
Ex Machina movie review: damselbot in distress
There’s nothing fresh or even usefully true in its cartoonish dichotomy about men, but this pseudo-SF flick will expound upon it with pretentious tedium.

There’s nothing fresh or even usefully true in its cartoonish dichotomy about men, but this pseudo-SF flick will expound upon it with pretentious tedium.

It doesn’t quite work as a package, but Wahlberg is a real pleasure to watch as he crafts a portrait of a tormented anti-hero with an apparent death wish.

This painfully unfunny spoof of teddibly British nonsense couldn’t be less amusing if it were actually calculated to be totally laugh-free.

Simultaneously the dullest and the most insulting version of itself it could possibly be. If only it had managed to be campy, that’d be something…

If you didn’t think music could involve actual blood, sweat, and tears, this breathtakingly visceral coming-of-artistic-age drama will set you straight.

A banal, bland tribute to things no one questions as laudable (though it has to misrepresent its subject to do so). But Bradley Cooper is very good.

This is a movie as its own death wish. To call it cheap, lazy, and perfunctory grants it a dignity that implies there was another path it could have taken.

Thinks it’s hitting notes of subconscious dread, but it’s just swinging a sledgehammer of tropes and hoping one of them sticks. (Spoiler: None do.)

Jack O’Connell is the most exciting young actor to break out in years, and he makes this overly familiar film worth your time… if only just.

Quvenzhané Wallis is adorable and Cameron Diaz is a hoot. But the movie is energetic yet bland, inoffensive and instantly forgettable.