The slower it moves, the more obvious the film’s deficiencies become.
Its mix of compassion and clarity allows it to avoid the easy sentimentality of similar tales.
The film is much more interested in the logistics of bomb defusal than any of its characters.
The show’s second season is just as sharply written and darkly funny as the first.
This remake’s influences are clear, but it doesn’t really do anything with them.
The series plays out more like soap opera or a full-blown farce than a grounded satire.
Meredith Alloway’s immediately conjures its own strange reality.
The film is lean, mean, and feisty, even if it doesn’t quite stick the landing.
The film is a drug-and-dance-music-fueled party girl’s lament.
The series boasts a unique charm that sneaks up on you.
There’s nothing to distinguish the series from the raft of other recent animated sitcoms.
Adam McDonald’s film struggles to bring its non-zombie characters to life.
The film is at its most powerful when its message is condensed down into a single image.
The longer the film continues, the more nuanced our picture of Natchez grows.
Green’s continually, and slyly, confronts us with our mortality.
Moments of humanity glimmer on the show’s fetid surface like stars in a dirty street puddle.
We Bury the Dead uses the walking dead to ruminate on loss and closure.
Fuller’s film is essentially a dark fantasy spin on Léon: The Professional.
Lee’s adaptation of Kokuho takes a novelistic approach to scene and character.
The cast seems to know exactly what they’re doing even when the series doesn’t.