
The Square review: power from the people
This is history firsthand, in progress, and unfinished.

This is history firsthand, in progress, and unfinished.

What is supposed to be funny and heartwarming is instead creepy and stalkerish. There’s no charm or emotional plausibility in a tale that cannot work without it.

As with the semifictionalized Rush, this documentary look at the first superstars of Formula One is gripping even if you couldn’t care less about racing.

It’s the rise of the machines as romantic dramedy, and the Singularity as romantic tragedy. It’s the nicest, gentlest sci-fi horror film ever.

Acknowledges the powerful fraternity of soldiers without being jingoistic, and depicts the intensity and adrenaline of a battlefield without being pornographic.

An airy fairy tale, buoyed by an infectious joy, about the very modern, bittersweetly pragmatic ache that comes with maintaining your soul and integrity as the world falls apart around you.

A smart, snappy, soulful look at how Mary Poppins got Disneyfied, and the redemptive power of story for both teller and listener.

Far from perfect, but its humor is nearly Monty Python-esque, much more deliciously absurd and creatively bizarre than its predecessor.

Sub-vaudeville 1950s sitcom humor and a horrifically dated message about boys as heroes and girls as the heroes’ property. You know, for kids!

Bursting with insanely engaging characters who are impossibly real and impossibly ridiculous whose stories you don’t ever want to end.