Crackles with life and energy, depicting a grand adventure in journalism from almost half a century ago with vigor, suspense, and an urgent relevance for today.
Save us from male artists who think they are dangerously, uniquely innovative. This stew of toxic masculinity and CGI-cartoon violence is nothing but tediously mundane.
It’s all rather implausible and hugely melodramatic as it milks ham-fisted histrionics from high soap opera. A pitiable excuse for a movie.
There are important issues running through this, but the film forgets to be sufficiently engaging in the course of being Significant.
Atom Egoyan is all over the real-life case of American injustice surrounding the West Memphis Three. But sadly, I’m not sure why.
Shockingly not terrible, and says some things that need to be said more often, like how dads do not own their teenaged daughters…
A Star Trek for our times. Very much for our times. Which means there’s little hope to be found here…
It’s happy birthday to Bruce Greenwood today. Any excuse to look.
It’s not so much *Dinner for Schmucks* as it is *Waiting for Dinner for Schmucks.* You know, like *Waiting for Godot,* only in reverse. Because the schmucks start showing up right as the damn movie starts, and they never go away.
Take a break from work: watch a trailer… Why, Bruce Greenwood, why?! And Ron Livingston? Why? Oh, wait, now I get it: The schmucks are the kiss-ass employees who actually go along with this assholery. The big boss is in fact looking for someone to stand up to him, to not be a schmuck. Or … more…