
Elysium review: third world rock from the sun
Neill Blomkamp cements his science-fiction credentials as a filmmaker with a genre vision the likes of which we haven’t seen since the socially conscious SF of the 1970s.

Neill Blomkamp cements his science-fiction credentials as a filmmaker with a genre vision the likes of which we haven’t seen since the socially conscious SF of the 1970s.
If you didn’t know that Jack Kerouac’s novel was a seminal influence on postwar America, you would never, ever guess it from this lifeless, soulless, pointless adaptation.
After District 9, I will follow Neill Blomkamp anywhere…
Sort of a Xerox copy of the 1987 *Predator,* with the only point perhaps establishing Adrien Brody’s action creds, in case that Oscar for *The Pianist* starts holding him back from getting good work.
“Christ, have you seen what these assholes are doing with the idea I so generously bestowed upon them?” She didn’t quite throw *Repo Men* at me — for which I was grateful, because an enraged muse can hurl something as physically nebulous but as psychically powerful as a story with the force of a tornado — but she was about to if I didn’t calm her down.