No movie has ever been higher-concept than this: Today-aged Will Smith versus CGI-young Will Smith! It’s the future of film in an anemic, tedious, ironically dated spy-action shell. Bafflingly awful.
The romance lacks chemistry, and the villain lacks bite. It seems embarrassed to be a musical, failing to embrace the necessary ineffable daydreaminess. Somehow even more cartoonish as live-action.
Designed to cash in on the popular mobile game, this kiddie noir nevertheless sparkles with charming originality. Gentle enough for tykes but with satirical bite for grownups, too. Downright adorable.
Trolls the viewer and condescends to genre fans. A smirking, tone-deaf parable about racism that is itself racist, including about its made-up orcs and elves.
Appalling and sadistic. How can anyone who is not a sociopath look at this horrible attempt at feel-good fantasy and say, “This is fine, this is healthy”?
Should be grim, bitter, and as horrifyingly alluring as Hannibal Lecter. But it’s nothing but a teen-friendly ad for toys, Ts, and other disposable merch.
The Invitation Committee fears that this fictional popular entertainment reflects Human tendencies to illogic, lack of imagination, and rank sentimentality.
A quietly horrifying, solidly entertaining medical procedural that makes no bones about the terrible damage American football causes to its players.
Unpleasant, humor free, and contrary to accepted codes of movie morality. And that’s before it shows its hand as a pile of implausible sentimental mush.
A leaden, charmless movie that is unable to commit to its own fantasy. So implausible that even Colin Farrell’s own Irish accent sounds fake.