The funny thing about this Bond series is that they’re always trend-chasing and they’re typically a year or two too late.
Alright, the first column seems to have gone fairly well. An observation though: not enough conflict. We’re in agreement on far too much.
Once upon a time, Kate was a favorite character of mine.
What rankles me the most is the received wisdom that somehow Flags of Our Fathers has too broad of a canvas for Eastwood and thus is outside his particular wheelhouse.
Call it a coincidence, call it karma, call it the weirdest grand design imaginable.
One of the things that makes Lost such a trying viewing experience is its frequently lazy narrative shortcuts.
Now in the third episode of the new season, Lost appears to be hitting its stride.
Don’t be surprised if it turns out Sun is pregnant with Hurley’s love child.
And I thought they got rid of that damn hatch.
Last weekend marked a dubious footnote in movie history.
Its opening credits are not an ordinary credits sequence, but a series of four short films that distill each season’s themes, goals, and motifs.
In fighting off waves of melancholy over Deadwood’s premature demise, it’s helpful to reflect on the improbability of the show’s existence.
Often Lost’s greatest failing is the way it shoe-horns in extraneous flashbacks to pad-out the run-time.
The feeling of déjà vu in “Three Minutes” permeated beyond the recycled footage.
Give the producers of Lost credit: They know the pulse of their audience.