film criticism by maryann johanson | celebrating 25 years: 1997–2022
A miraculous blend of grief and humor. Big, bold, brash, then sneakily meta. I am only starting to get my head around the emotional and creative right-hook of it. A fitting end (for now) to the MCU.
Stereotypes and contrived shenanigans don’t seem to actually offer much catharsis for harried moms seeking escape. And the dads inevitably butt into their me-time.
Tough, unanswerable human questions frame spectacular, innovative action sequences that are like superhero ballets. This series just keeps getting better.
Marvel’s tiniest hero stars in the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s smallest movie so far, one that loses Paul Rudd’s charm among familiar comic-book action.
It’s not as raunchy as the title suggests, but Paul Rudd and Amy Poehler pull off a hilarious sendup of every rom-com cliché with only a few (easily forgivable) missteps. I laughed a lot.
Stuff I found on the Net today.
Far from perfect, but its humor is nearly Monty Python-esque, much more deliciously absurd and creatively bizarre than its predecessor.
A romantic dramedy about a passionate erudite oddball woman with her own life? Hooray!
Paul Rudd is so often so misused or underused onscreen. Maybe he’ll have a chance to shine here.
I like the look of this. Tina Fey and Paul Rudd together has got to be made of win.
