The show’s fourth season is a mad blend of pop-cultural references and meta-gags, some of which land and some of which don’t.
Travolta’s scenes are islands of tranquility in a jittery sea of rote crime-movie pyrotechnics.
The film turns a showdown between two basketball teams into an exhilarating experience.
The series proves that it’s still got plenty of life left in it, even after a decade in the deep freeze.
They Cloned Tyrone is a satirical science-fiction story styled as a Blaxploitation film.
The series is buoyed by a sharp script but fails to develop a real sense of momentum.
Mel Eslyn’s film is a thoughtful drama about life, gender, and male friendship.
Aside from the red stuff, the film is scarcely interested in what’s inside its characters.
As a locked-room mystery set 30,000 feet in the air, the series does a decent job of keeping you guessing.
Eva Longoria’s film is simply a 99-minute commercial for the Frito-Lay corporation.
The series is far better when it focuses on its characters’ shenanigans than on social commentary.
The film is an impressively complicated and compassionate drama about shame and desire.
The series is formally playful, deftly balancing its absurdity with healthy doses of sincerity.
The film stumbles sluggishly from one chapter in Foreman’s life to the next.
The series takes itself a touch too seriously to succeed as a farce but draws its characters too broadly to achieve any real pathos.
The series seems content to recreate the events of the case rather than explore them in any deeper psychological or thematic fashion.
Carmen leans into the physicality of its actors and the stirring strings of Nicholas Britell’s score.
With Suzume, Shinkai Makoto reaffirms his auteurist bona fides.
The series embodies the “this is fine” meme, exploring the desperate impulse to shrug your shoulders as the world burns around you.
The show’s fourth and final season finds it in full Shakespearean tragedy mode.