
Ten Thousand Saints movie review: exhausted urban elegy
An achingly perfect evocation of New York’s East Village in the 1980s and an amazing cast cannot make this tale of adolescent anxiety catch fire.

An achingly perfect evocation of New York’s East Village in the 1980s and an amazing cast cannot make this tale of adolescent anxiety catch fire.

A Scorsese-esque look, fascinating and horrifying, at the 1990s NYPD scandal that saw cops become the biggest, baddest gang on the city streets.

There isn’t an authentic human motivation or emotion to be found here. The bar has been raised too high on comic-book movies for us to accept junk like this.

Is the man who sang “We Saw Your Boobs” at the Oscars one to give us a touching story about civil rights and human dignity? Take a guess..

If there’s a thriller to be found in international travel regulations, this is not it. Makes a mockery of the unsung heroes it’s meant to celebrate.

With supercool 70s chic and a smart crime thriller vibe, this is a welcome throwback to action dramas of the past, before they chose spectacle over story.

It gets a tad heavy-handed, but my eyes welled with tears of geeky joy at the film’s embrace of an optimism it steadfastly refuses to see as old-fashioned.

Meet the crotchety, bitter old man who, back in 1983 as a crotchety, bitter younger man, refused to initiate global nuclear war. A true story!

Writer, director, and star Chris Rock is so close to something great here, but he gives in too easily to the unchallenging and the very conventional.

Julianne Moore’s terror at watching her own emotional and intellectual life slip away is palpable, and much scarier to me than any slasher movie.