On the occasion of Spider-Man: Brand New Day’s release, we ranked all the films in the MCU.
The film scarcely bothers with the rudiments of plot before streaking off into the atmosphere.
The film clings to the honeyed morbidity of sultry music and smart talk, yet it also puts the sting into an archetypally Gallic l’amour fou.
Perhaps the loudest summer film of all time, Van Helsing is apt to provide more migraines than nightmares.
Its musty, jaundiced sensuality characterizes Hammer’s blending of gothic tradition with modern prurience.
Every movement in the film seems to exist solely to show off the filmmakers’ CGI expertise.
A canary-yellow Lamborghini’s license plate reads “Caca King” in Envy, nicely summing up this dreadful money-versus-friendship comedy.
Like any great work of art, it reveals more to the spectator each time it’s experienced.
The vampire is only the all too naturally spreading weed in a disregarded and unkept Victorian garden.
The film establishes itself as one of the finest of the seven entries in Hammer’s Frankenstein cycle.
From God’s (rear)end to our cinema screens plops the latest pile of obsequious Hollywood shit: the aptly and ironically titled Godsend.
Morgan Spurlock’s film is a Happy Meal for those who can’t take the Frederick Wiseman diet.
King Arthur’s dour war story may be what legends are technically based on, but it’s certainly not the stuff they’re made of.
Missing here is the awe-inspiring wonder or exhilarating originality that might elevate the film above its mega-budgeted counterparts.
The film exists in a fantasy New York City no one has ever seen before.
The success of The Five Obstructions depends almost distressingly on the audience’s cheeky sense of bad faith toward Lars von Trier.
The long-neglected middle child of art cinema’s triptych of psychodramas surrounding misplaced/mistaken/stolen female identities
Playing Melvin in the film, Mario taps into the madness that drove his father to re-politicize the way blacks were consumed on screen.
The film ends up too steeped in surrogate conscience twaddle to even be bothered to provoke a response, positive or negative.
At a certain point, the film is not merely bathing in its puddle of grotesquerie, but drowning in it.
This millennium edition of the film exists only to give Jackie Chan a hundred different places to kick the shit out of people.