
Entourage movie review: say goodbye to Hollywood
Hollywood does kinda make sense now: it’s a neverending frat party of talentless rich bastards.

Hollywood does kinda make sense now: it’s a neverending frat party of talentless rich bastards.

A repulsive and disgustingly manipulative roundrobin of revenge that veers from softcore porn to an emotionally ignorant parody of a family drama.

No one has done a musical like this before, keeping an uneasy beat to craft a dark replica of scared community spirit in the wake of a shocking crime.

I am the prime demographic for this movie, and I found it only sort of inoffensively blah. Chris Pratt: He’s no Jeff Goldblum.

A cold, sterile film, bereft of the spirit and danger Gustave Flaubert’s groundbreaking novel demands.

The highlight is the absolutely astonishing “World of Tomorrow,” which crams in more SF ideas than you’ll find in a decade’s worth of summer blockbusters.

An unlikely duo of films in which folks way beyond their teens fight hauntings injects a bit of the unexpected into a genre now tediously predictable.

Leaves no doubt that its central supernatural event is 100% real, yet it makes absolutely no case for it whatsoever, and refuses to even engage with it.

A quietly devastating film about the impact of colonialism and paternalism on Australia’s indigenous people via one man’s very personal journey.

If there’s a thriller to be found in international travel regulations, this is not it. Makes a mockery of the unsung heroes it’s meant to celebrate.