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There is only one thing worse than an M. Night Shyamalan movie with a twist ending. And that is one without a twist ending. Feels like a faith-based movie trying to sneak in under a disingenuous wire.
Ridiculous excuse for a thriller — obvious, preposterous, ultimately banal — piles on psychological absurdities as it builds from a maddening middle to an enraging crescendo of misogynist nonsense.
A disaster of a kids’ fantasy caper; feels like it’s making up the plot as it goes. A mishmash of manufactured wonder: characters barely sketched, action seemingly setting up future DisneyWorld rides.
Charming entry-level spookiness and nicely old-fashioned eeriness for budding fright fans. A disarmingly goofy Jack Black and a vamping-it-up Cate Blanchett meet in a comic middle that is perfectly pitched.
A pretty blur of an apocalypse happens to pretty, blurry people in this dull SF drama. This end of the world brought to you by the Reykjavik Tourist Board.
Toilet humor, cars exploding for no reason, random naked boobies, and gay panic… although, weirdly, also lots of awkward, unerotic nearly naked Dax Shepard.
Jack Reacher is back. And no one seems to know why. Low stakes, a rote plot, and undistinguished action add up to a pointless and unnecessary sequel.
Found footage has come to be an excuse for storytellers to completely bypass drama, character development, and plot in an attempt to be “authentic.”
The annual celebration of people with superpowers beating the crap outta one another seems to result in only a handful of petty crimes. Any ideas why?
Walking into the historic Thames Tunnel…
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