film criticism by maryann johanson, not an AI | since 1997
A stew of “hilarious” toxic masculinity and nonstop violence as the solution to all problems. Sexist, stupid nonsense, tediously familiar and wholly predictable. Even the cartoonish action falls flat.
Jason Statham versus a giant prehistoric shark. It’s never less — yet also never more — than you expect, and never more suspenseful or scary than it is cheesy. But whatev. Go, and enjoy.
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?
Deeply uninvolving, often weirdly stilted and amateurish, and emotionally inert, which is pretty unforgivable given its subject matter of grief and despair.
Moonlight leads, with seven awards…
It’s supposed to be intense, but it’s just silly. Unless it’s secretly about one woman ridding the world of notorious arms dealers through sly manipulation.
There isn’t a single level on which this crass reboot operates that isn’t a disaster. There is all sorts of stupid at work here, and all sorts of offensive.
Does some wonderfully seditious feminist things while also being funny as hell. Finally, we are asked to laugh with Melissa McCarthy, not at her.
Too long, too convoluted, too sentimental, and too ridiculous. Some will say those are its good points. Will they embrace the homoeroticism too?
Piles of noirish exposition get the better of Jason Statham in this unpleasantly retrograde crime drama. What happened in Vegas should have stayed there.
