Embarrassingly bad CGI; pratfalls; genital humor; denigration of cat ladies; horrible clichés and stereotypes. This is the cinematic equivalent of stepping in dog poop. You know, for kids!
Analyzing jokes can ruin humor, but not here. This is a provocative, hilarious, and important discussion of comedy taboos, who gets to transgress them, and why.
Ridiculous coincidence drives the plot, but a reliance on outdated notions of gender expectations is what makes this neonoir such an infuriating experience.
Everything looks great on paper here: Damon’s brawny presence; the smartly staged action, etc. And it’s not unfun. But it feels less black ops than old hat.
There are important issues running through this, but the film forgets to be sufficiently engaging in the course of being Significant.
Hard to believe, I know, but this is a real movie that real people have unashamedly put their names to. Because a sweet paycheck trumps human dignity.
Piles of noirish exposition get the better of Jason Statham in this unpleasantly retrograde crime drama. What happened in Vegas should have stayed there.
Astonishingly athletic dancers express crazy-hot modern choreography, strung together by a flimsy narrative. Kinda like old-school Hollywood musicals did.
Diablo Cody has a new movie… but you’d hardly know it was her work, for all the bite it lacks.
It’s like they realized they never should have made a sequel, so for Part III, they didn’t even bother to make a Hangover movie at all…