
Terminator Genisys movie review: back from the future… again
I have a terrible feeling of deja vu. I have a terrible feeling of deja vu. I have a terrible feeling of deja vu. I have a terrible feeling of deja vu.

I have a terrible feeling of deja vu. I have a terrible feeling of deja vu. I have a terrible feeling of deja vu. I have a terrible feeling of deja vu.

A cringe-worthy jamboree of dimbulb manflesh that’s even more embarrassing than the first film. If you want a picture of the future, imagine Channing Tatum grinding his crotch in a human face, forever.

An immense film, looming in tragedy, an infuriating portrait of how celebrity warps artistry and how wealth warps love and how suffering trumps everything.

Hooray for movies about sex and love that aren’t about teenagers trying to get laid but adults still trying to figure it all out.

This funny and enlightening exposé of how unhealthy “healthy” processed food actually is is shocking, even if you’re already down on corporate food.

Michael Fassbender is never not worth watching, and his unique blend of cynical smarts and weary humor is perfectly suited to this bitterly funny road trip.

I love the Minions and I thought they totally deserved their own movie. But I was wrong. Or, at least, this movie is not the movie they deserve.

Strange and wonderful and unclassifiable in the best way, this is an unexpectedly touching and oddly funny platonic romance. Sort of.

There are no cartoon Mean Girls here; instead, we get striking portraits of girls in pain, desperately grasping for coping mechanisms.

A sort of miracle. A black comedy about a not-well woman saving herself is a savage satire on a not-well world that doesn’t realize anything’s wrong.