This unfunny, unscary mess is a series of missed opportunities that has no idea what to do with its attempted class-warfare satire. It’s cheap but not even cheesy: that would require some passion, which is completely lacking.
Ben Stiller is having another midlife crisis, and only his sincere, heartfelt performance saves this pile of unchecked white male privilege from self-parody. But only just.
Precious, fatuous, Nancy Meyers–lite rom-com about a privileged rich white lady with no real problems who can’t help but mom her much-younger new boyfriend. Barf.
After a few quick nods to the profoundly unethical act at its core, it shrugs it off and uses it as the basis for its fairy-tale romance. This is not okay.
Ridiculously romantic in all the best ways, and more modern, more progressive, and even just plain more grownup that half the movies thrown at us today.
The world’s most insipid vampires are back in inaction! Twilight has never been more about people standing around waiting for stuff to happen to them…
“Forever isn’t as long as I’d hoped.” The wisdom of Bella Swan, ladies and gentlemen.
Midnight in Paris becomes the butt of its own gentle joke… perhaps the most Woody Allen joke ever, one that wraps up a paralyzing self-awareness in a redemptive self-deprecation to, finally and splendidly, laugh with great good humor at itself.
“The German invasion continues to advance north and west”? Oxford? Swindon? What the–?
Michael Sheen being funny? I did not know that I was waiting for such a thing till right now.