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A feature-length Oscar clip, two hours of Gary Oldman stomping around in a Winston Churchill suit. There’s too little drama and too much inevitability in what amounts to a reanimated Madame Tussaud’s waxwork scene.
A bleakly funny, genteelly twisted gloss on the clichés of temperamental creative genius, via the relationship between an artist and his subject, one that questions the sometimes high personal price of great art.
You can feel the stillness and the heat of this sultry, sensual summer in Italy. This is a glorious romance about falling in love with life itself, and living with gusto.
Ben Stiller is having another midlife crisis, and only his sincere, heartfelt performance saves this pile of unchecked white male privilege from self-parody. But only just.
The most interesting thing about this all-over-the-place drama-thriller is Ridley Scott’s last-minute Hail Mary pass to replace a disgraced cast member. The finale is tense and exciting, but it’s a slog to get there.
Bold, tough, hugely entertaining. Like a new GoodFellas, except about a woman caught up in her own impudence and daring. Jessica Chastain is badass.
Crackles with life and energy, depicting a grand adventure in journalism from almost half a century ago with vigor, suspense, and an urgent relevance for today.
Trolls the viewer and condescends to genre fans. A smirking, tone-deaf parable about racism that is itself racist, including about its made-up orcs and elves.
The slim charms of the previous movies have been tossed away in favor of cringe-inducing cattiness and a ridiculous plot. There’s barely even any music. Aca-palling.
Absolutely stupendous: smart, funny, poignant, a true original. A thrilling odyssey of ideas that takes its sci-fi concept to the very edges of extrapolation.
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