
Bullet Train movie review: total derailment
The cast is, on paper, terrific, but there’s nothing engaging in their bloody savagery. A misfire of a supposed action comedy, this mind-numbing mess is by turns grating, tedious, and infuriating.

The cast is, on paper, terrific, but there’s nothing engaging in their bloody savagery. A misfire of a supposed action comedy, this mind-numbing mess is by turns grating, tedious, and infuriating.

This 60-year-old story of pursuing a dream with resolute kindness could not feel more fresh in its knowing class clash. Lesley Manville is an absolute treasure, her command of comedic pathos supreme.

Full of honesty and humanity, utterly lacking in shame over a basic human need, the female experience of which is almost universally ignored onscreen. Light, funny, diverting. So why was I bawling?

A book is born; its author dies. Her husband takes up her work in a process of gentle, active mourning. Honest and hopeful, this journey through grief is beautifully structured for maximum poignance.

A “critique” of misogyny that is outright misogynist, even before it goes down a gorefest rabbit hole of infuriating contempt for women. What the hell is going on with this would-be-mythic mishmash?

One of the most beautiful movies I’ve ever seen. It is impossibly small, and emotionally immense, full of the most bittersweet of pathos that the coming-of-age genre offers. A treasure, and a gift.

With its melancholy regret and bittersweet nostalgia, this is far superior to the 1986 blockbuster. But as the sun goes down on American imperialism here, the last-gasp celebration of it unsettles.

Dismantles myths about motherhood and misconceptions about child-free women with brisk, cheeky humor and intersectionality, and begins to build the cultural scripts we need for paths without kids.

An intense, intimate tale of historical illegal abortion, with a central performance of focused terror; a harrowing body horror that looms again. I cannot overstate the absolute urgency of this film.

Steady your heart palpitations: it’s the same old era for the nicest feudal hangover. The delusional reactionary fantasy of wealth and privilege for some, cheerful servitude for others remains intact.