film criticism by maryann johanson | celebrating 25 years: 1997–2022
Ostensibly a movie in the same way that a Victorian folly is ostensibly a Japanese temple or a medieval castle. That is: not at all. Like a themed high-school prom from 1994, and an accidental horror.
Fairy tale goes jukebox musical with a feminist, gender-fluid spin. Throws irony and sarcasm at heterosexuality, patriarchy, even monarchy. Pretty darn fun, with a sweetly spunky Ella in Cabello.
Enjoyably intense, if you can get past the cultural narcissism that Western corporate colonialism only matters when it impacts a nice white American family.
Why is the U.S. marketing for Survivor pretending that Milla Jovovich is not the protagonist of the film?
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.
The jokes are as creaky as the aching bunions and bad backs onscreen, but Emma Thompson and Pierce Brosnan are incandescent together.
It shouldn’t work, but it does, as wonderfully sardonic British humor and as a reminder that you’re not alone in being messed up in this insane world.
At the Odeon on Shaftesbury Avenue, you can touch the hands of Ralph Fiennes and Pierce Brosnan. Sort of.
What starts out as conventional dramedy becomes a charming, wise story about making the most of whatever life throws at you…
It’s nice that there are suddenly lots of films aimed primarily at people who aren’t teenagers.
