Two brilliant dramas upend cinematic tropes of male vengeance with precision, patience, and grim humor. These are radical rethinks in emotional maturity surrounding men’s grief, remorse, and shame.
It’s more of the same tedious nonsense, all action sequences bereft of excitement and body-swap comedy minus any real laughs. An abysmal lack of fun with stakes way too low to generate much suspense.
The sinister ambiance has a terrible grace, but its raw and honest portrait of grief and guilt is ultimately diminished by the supernatural horror that is also at play.
Culturally clueless cinematic vomit, a cynical undertaking embracing the most diminishing clichés it can apply to its characters. Low stakes, and low humor.
Unfocused like a 1970s cast-of-thousands disaster flick, and with little point beyond engaging in bland and easy propagandistic cheering. Boston deserves better.