The film is eventually caught up in the very pomp and splendor that it initially lampoons.
The film teems with a palpable sense of terror and outrage.
The film’s charm and compassion is repeatedly drowned out by completely lowbrow distractions.
It’s rather like watching zee Frenchman kick zee puppy poodle for an hour and a half.
Consider Sitcom a work of corrective sexual politics.
Stone Reader is a humanitarian effort, but Mark Moskowitz’s preening and cloying voiceover can wear on the nerves.
Ella Enchanted is a ramshackle mess that is all the more frustrating for those brief times when it pulls itself together.
Spartan is a genre wank job every bit as cheesy and psychologically weightless as Heist.
One could say that the film is about nothing more than the clanging of armor or the movements of legs.
Jacques Nolot’s film is an almost nonchalant ethnography of the inner workings of a gay cruising haunt.
Director Manuel Boursinhac’s film at times suggests a Cliffs Notes knock-off of The Sopranos.
Barbershop 2 has too many creaks in its gears to earn a wholehearted recommendation.
Kitchen Stories begins promisingly enough, but it turns into a male weepie with a serious case of the cutes.
The film lasciviously devours all basic notions of intelligence and sophistication in its destructive, rampaging wake.
The filmmakers end up with one too many Superman fantasies piled up on top of one another.
Think Braveheart Down Under, an impossibly masturbatory, unilateral act of hero worship.
Earth may be silent, but there’s so much vitality in any given frame as to suggest a non-stop primal scream.
Jonathan Demme’s film was apparently too powerful for audiences to handle back in 1998
Kurt Russell is the true miracle of Miracle.
The film ultimately comes off as a crass amalgamation of all its influences, The Italian Job with go-karts instead of Mini Coopers.
Judging by Todd Phillips’s tired Starsky & Hutch, it appears that ’70s nostalgia has finally run its course.