
The Double review: now you see him… again
A painfully funny odyssey of personal ineffectualness that is bitterly wonderful in how it revels in the decrepit horror of the everyday world.

A painfully funny odyssey of personal ineffectualness that is bitterly wonderful in how it revels in the decrepit horror of the everyday world.

A weirdly beautiful film, eerie in its complicated simplicity, and open to seven billion interpretations, all of them valid.

An overwrought pastiche of Hitchcock that makes less sense and renders its protagonist far less plausible the longer it goes on.

This is what passes for a children’s movie these days: a 1950s sitcom drawn in pretty tropical CGI colors with a few mostly forgettable songs tossed in.

The movie equivalent of a mean girls’ game whose only goal is humiliation. Also: a failed parable of the twistedness of the 1 percent.

A marvelous little unpacking of the meaning of happiness, precisely what constitutes it, and how to know whether you’ve found it.

A Biblical action disaster fantasy epic that is completely bonkers, endlessly entertaining, and actually religious in that inspiring-and-instructional way.

Nothing here is terribly haunting, but at least someone is trying to make something like a horror movie these days that isn’t about gore and torture.

Finds absolutely nothing new in the supposedly spooky found-footage subgenre, unless all the typical haunted-house frights occurring in a church counts.

I’ve never seen the show that spawned it, but it was still exactly what I was expecting. I am neither overwhelmed nor underwhelmed by it. I am whelmed.