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Hollywood has lost the ability to buckle swash. Guy Ritchie, shamelessly stealing from Indiana Jones, gives us a charmless treasure hunt that feels honed by corporate focus groups and cinematic SEO.
The Brutalist, Conclave, and The Substance are the big winners…
Not a knockoff of that other quiet horror flick, though this familiar monster movie works hard to convince otherwise. But the terrific cast makes it worth a look, at least for Netflix subscribers.
Courtroom drama? Portrait of a marriage? Character study of a workaholic? This frustratingly random film cannot figure out what it is or what it wants to say… but Emma Thompson’s beautifully empathetic performance is worth your time.
Embarrassingly bad CGI; pratfalls; genital humor; denigration of cat ladies; horrible clichés and stereotypes. This is the cinematic equivalent of stepping in dog poop. You know, for kids!
In the moment of #MeToo, this tale of the relationship between a male professor and a young female student is howlingly out of step and outrageously tone deaf. And that’s on top of its tedious clichés.
A bleakly funny, genteelly twisted gloss on the clichés of temperamental creative genius, via the relationship between an artist and his subject, one that questions the sometimes high personal price of great art.
An elegy for old-school reportage and the people who pursue it, and a journalistic procedural with a snappy rush of urgent discovery and consequence.
One of the smartest and most enthralling SF film series ever breaks more new ground as it ends on notes as emotional and provocative as they are explosive.
Romantic and funny and smart and wise and just plain different. This is a historical costume dramedy romp about gardening. How cool is that?
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