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Spectacularly entertaining. As gripping, as suspenseful as a finely wrought fictional thriller; a sheer delight as a portrait of the man himself. Films don’t get much more daring or crucial than this.
Dull, earnest fanfic full of halfhearted secret-agent shenanigans and a misguided rethink of Chamberlain the appeaser. Same-old rote, by-the-number World War II–ing we’ve seen countless times before.
Badass UN Special Rapporteur Leilani Farha probes the global housing crisis and breaks down the complex cause into something readily comprehensible… then enraging. (But she has a solution, too.)
No movies directed by women, written solely by women, or centering only women open in the US this weekend. Two tiny releases feature a mix of men and women… [This post is for Patreon patrons only for the first month.]
Clint Eastwood turns a terrorist attack into a bit of post-hoc reality “entertainment” with the stunt casting of the actual heroes as themselves in a stilted, tone-deaf piece of Christian-American propaganda.
The living, breathing, bleeding life of the breathtaking fight scenes cannot overcome confusingly twisty spy intrigue and multiple male gazes on the story.
Thoroughly charming. Spider-Man’s signature light comedy works surprisingly well even as this story is uniquely steeped in the darker Marvel Cinematic Universe.
EMPs and nukular codes and cyber crap and submarines, oh my! “What does this have to do with us?” Michelle Rodriguez cries, and I’m like I know, right?
Everything looks great on paper here: Damon’s brawny presence; the smartly staged action, etc. And it’s not unfun. But it feels less black ops than old hat.
The two-hour-plus single-take gimmick disappears into the background as the implausibility and the flatness of the protagonist come to the unfortunate fore.
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