
Midsommar movie review: välkommen to weird Ikea
It’s hard to escape the sense that Ari Aster is getting off on Florence Pugh sobbing and screaming as he fetishizes her terror and torment. And none of it is in the pursuit of any meaning or message.
It’s hard to escape the sense that Ari Aster is getting off on Florence Pugh sobbing and screaming as he fetishizes her terror and torment. And none of it is in the pursuit of any meaning or message.
Tense, gripping, enraging, but only about things that black Americans already know. This is a primer about racism for white people, and we must pay attention.
A 90-minute shootout that never makes us care who lives and who dies. In attempting to send up a cinematic cliché, this only becomes a tedious example of same.
He doesn’t only look and sound like Harrison Ford, he’s got the charm and the presence for the role.
A bit of House of Windsor fan fiction: cute but slight, though the re-creation of London’s citywide VE Day celebrations is kind of amazing.
Stupid sexist Michael Bay.
Rearranger of space and time Michael Bay has reached a level of aggressive self-actualization that perhaps no other human being has reached before.