
The Beatles: Eight Days a Week – The Touring Years documentary review: yeah yeah yeah
There’s not a lot new here, but the vintage footage is fab, as is the much-needed reminder that the supposedly innocent past was hardly innocent at all.

There’s not a lot new here, but the vintage footage is fab, as is the much-needed reminder that the supposedly innocent past was hardly innocent at all.

Riveting and repulsive, with a claustrophobic perspective that mirrors its subjects: all id, all in the moment. But it’s also shallow, all on the surface.

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.

The delicately balanced foolishness of Now You See Me gives way to impossibly supernatural magic tricks aimed at thwarting the least menacing villain ever.

Sends up one-upwomanship, egotistical self-help, and reflexive hedonism with zing. It is a sheer triumph to see two older women being really funny onscreen.

Smartly elegant; the fantastic cast makes it worth your time. But it does feel as if it belongs on the small screen spread across six or eight hours.

Fantasy meandering twists into something more action-oriented, and there’s little magic in it. This is not what we expect from a master cinematic fantasist.

“Less Ed and Lorraine” and “more cheese and cardboard” is precisely the last direction a sequel to the classy original should have gone in. Yet here we are.

Believes six impossible things — like implausible character motivations, or big emotions — because they’re in the script, without bothering to earn them.

As entertaining on an escapist level as it is irrefutably engaging on a level that is essential for citizens who are players in our political environment.