A bigger misfire than its predecessor, and a waste of a great cast. Unsupportably overlong, with a feel-good self-care denouement that’s almost dangerous. The only terrifying thing here is the tedium.
An anxious moan, a looming disquiet of a reckoning coming for America. This is horror as weird, funny, damning, and more disconcerting the more you think about it, finding fear right in front of us.
The Goonies, Stand by Me, and Poltergeist went into a blender with a pinch of E.T. and John Hughes to smush into a mess of retro 80s mush.
Leaden and witless, though it obviously believes there is humor in its loud, chaotic juvenility. It would be an insult to cartoons to call this cartoonish.
There isn’t an authentic human motivation or emotion to be found here. The bar has been raised too high on comic-book movies for us to accept junk like this.
An inoffensive time-passer for youngsters, but adult genre fans who recall the 80s classics it draws on — E.T. and The Goonies — will be bored.
Not actually. It’s part of an art exhibition in California.
It’s a rare thing, but sometimes digging up the past and giving it another spin is a good thing.
Is it weird that the overwhelming feeling I’m left with after Super 8 is one of a nostalgic melancholy?
I can’t wait to see Super 8, J.J. Abrams’ tribute to Steven Spielberg. For now, I have to make do with some actual Spielberg…