Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 (review)
This is simply a great flick: powerfully emotional, profoundly resonant, scary and funny and intense and wholly enrapturing.
This is simply a great flick: powerfully emotional, profoundly resonant, scary and funny and intense and wholly enrapturing.
Oh, it’s more of the same old crap we’re feeding our kids these days: Gratuitious destruction of the English language. Partial ursine nudity. Hunny abuse.
For a goodly while, it does feel, depressingly, as if Trust is going to morph into one of those luridly melodramatic made-for-Lifetime flicks gone theatrical feature thanks to the presence of a stellar cast…
Tree of life? Tree of sanctimonious mopey male egotism disguised as a search for meaning, more like. Or a search for God. Or for nostalgia. Or for innocence. Or for Mom. Or for something.
James Purefoy as a disillusioned Templar is as bleakly gorgeous as the film around him…
Admirable. Too, too admirable…
Aggressively meh. Larry Crowne is not a bad movie. It’s not a particularly good one, either.
Ewww. It’s got Michael Bay’s jingo-jism all over it.
A refreshing breath of just-so-wrongness in today’s movie milieu.
I am consumed by the aubergine power of muddled confusion and despair.