Charming based-on-fact British costume dramedy gently snarks about power and propriety but cuts a lot deeper when it comes to bigotry and bootlicking.
When FFJ sticks to farce, it works wonderfully, like something P.G. Wodehouse might have loved. But the longer it goes on, the more maudlin it gets.
A bravura dramedy that beautifully balances tragedy and comedy and asks a tricky question: Is it better to be cynical about art, or happily undiscriminating?
Pretty much strictly for fans of Ben Foster and Chris O’Dowd, who are both superb here. Probably not for fans of Lance Armstrong (if he still has any left).
A cry-till-you-laugh-dramedy about seeking lost family and finding new purpose; Judi Dench and Steve Coogan are fantastic. Seriously, though: bring Kleenex.
Steve Coogan, Judi Dench, Stephen Frears. So much goodness in yet another story about the inhuman awfulness of the Catholic Church. Hooray, I guess.
I’m hyperventilating from the array of overwhelming movie awesomeness before me.
Some of it is hilariously awful, and some is just plain awful. But Statham’s attempt to be taken seriously as an actor is honest, at least.
I’m always in for a new movie from Stephen Frears. But I do feel like I’ve seen this movie a hundred times before.
Loves me a Stephen Frears film. And this one is based on a graphic novel that is based on Thomas Hardy. And it’s about writers. And it’s about England. And it’s got one or two cute guys in it.