
The Man Who Invented Christmas movie review: but would Charles Dickens approve?
There’s charm and wit in its fanciful depiction of the creative process, but the film downplays the social activism that Dickens fully embraced in his work.

There’s charm and wit in its fanciful depiction of the creative process, but the film downplays the social activism that Dickens fully embraced in his work.

There is such kindness here, such humanity, such warmth and optimism. This is a fantasy of unique scope and astonishing emotional depth beneath the silliness.

Save us from male artists who think they are dangerously, uniquely innovative. This stew of toxic masculinity and CGI-cartoon violence is nothing but tediously mundane.

It’s tormented hotheads all around with a hero and villain who are almost indistinguishable and same-old spy stuff racing to a seen-it, been-there ticking-clock finale.

Lush sensationalism and Dickensian social justice collide in 1880s London, and if there isn’t quite enough of either, it’s still a slice of satisfying gothic horror.

Its message of interfaith understanding is an undeniably necessary one; too bad it’s delivered with the obvious broad humor of a sitcom Very Special Episode.

Derivative, rote, devoid of heart and hope. Guy Ritchie has found no reason to retell Arthur’s story, or to render a mythic hero as a self-serving thug.

There’s stuff in this spy thriller that’s fresh, and lots that’s familiar, but Noomi Rapace using her brains and brawn to fight bad guys is a genuine thrill.
But in a good way!

Doesn’t hit all the noir tropes so much as it wrings all the gloomy joy from them, and the mystery is underwhelming and unmysterious, but still: Riz Ahmed.