
Sinners movie review: bootleg vampires
Wildly primal, big and bold, fueled by pain and rage, by community and family, throbbing with love and sex and joy, infused with magic. A sumptuously textured, unmissable howl of a passion project.

Wildly primal, big and bold, fueled by pain and rage, by community and family, throbbing with love and sex and joy, infused with magic. A sumptuously textured, unmissable howl of a passion project.

Immerse yourself in pure unalloyed joy with a sweet, deceptively simple carbon-silicon platonic romance. Even the poignant bittersweetness of this emotional roller coaster is affirming and uplifting.

With human paradoxes at its nucleus, this is a riveting portrait, both intimate and epic, of the self-involved men who think they make the world go round… and too often, tragically, do.

The plastic terror of The Polar Express melded with the kooky charm of Forrest Gump is a bad, sometimes outright icky, way to tell a tale of trauma and recovery, and does a disservice to Steve Carell’s sensitive performance.

There’s charm and wit in its fanciful depiction of the creative process, but the film downplays the social activism that Dickens fully embraced in his work.

Fantasy meandering twists into something more action-oriented, and there’s little magic in it. This is not what we expect from a master cinematic fantasist.
The female protagonist has been scrubbed from this “classic story.” Why, Bekmambetov? You got a problem with women?
It’s okay to endanger lives to get a story about North Korea, but not okay to play “DIng Dong the Witch Is Dead” on the radio because someone’s fee-fees might be hurt. What the actual fuck, BBC?
Stuff my followers on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+ saw today…