The living, breathing, bleeding life of the breathtaking fight scenes cannot overcome confusingly twisty spy intrigue and multiple male gazes on the story.
Boiled down to its bonkers essence, Skull Island is a Vietnam war movie with monsters, a retro analog vibe, and a dash of both Moby-Dick and The X-Files.
Unfocused like a 1970s cast-of-thousands disaster flick, and with little point beyond engaging in bland and easy propagandistic cheering. Boston deserves better.
A marvelous little movie: compact, efficient, almost unbearably intense, smartly (perhaps accidentally) feminist. A glorious treat of pulp genre fun.
Glossy Hollywood automatons sleepwalk through family dynamics full of forced quirkiness, excruciating cuteness, and phony emotion. Absolutely cringeworthy.
Marvelously balances the silly and the solemn. There’s almost a whiff of the Coen-esque in its slick sharpness, in its whistling past the graveyard.
It doesn’t quite work as a package, but Wahlberg is a real pleasure to watch as he crafts a portrait of a tormented anti-hero with an apparent death wish.
As jaunty as Jean Dujardin’s beret, but in a sincere, old-fashioned kind of way. It could almost have been rediscovered from the 1940s…
Very intimidating! Especially when you know that everyone on the other side of the barriers is thinking, Who the hell is that? Should I know who she is?
Monsters, Inc. was in no way calling for a sequel, and here it is. (new DVD/VOD US/Can)