The film feels like sitting through acting exercises where everyone is giving it 110% every take.
Kevin Smith toys with death in Clerks III as a shortcut to bring emotion to a film that otherwise has no meaningful hook.
If Junebug focused on quieter moments of extended family dynamics, Angus MacLachlan’s film never goes beyond signpost sentiment.
A heartfelt retro flashback littered with pop-culture iconography and much slang, it focuses on the importance of friendship and loyalty rather than social standing.
For all the fuss, it dissolves almost immediately upon contact.
Beware the Gonzo is a dramedy set in the present day that doesn’t seem to know much about the present day.
Tanner Hall isn’t so much kaleidoscopic, episodic drama as underdeveloped, perfunctory multi-character mash-up.
The real target of the film’s ire is New York envy itself, and the sad people who simply couldn’t stomach living anywhere else.
The film is on shaky ground when trying to adopt slasher conventions, and less so when adhering to traditional body-horror tropes.
The film often plays like a straight-faced homage to a genre of film that has been cannily geared in recent years to urban audiences.
Judah Friedlander’s character is the only one in this pretentiously darling little indie dud who earns our compassionate respect.
Throughout, David Gordon Green’s style is as arbitrary as the Cloverfield monster.
The closing scene is so modestly pitch-perfect that the perfectly average preceding material barely deserves it.
The characters in John Turturro’s directorial efforts have a yen for treating choleric fits like arias.
Dedication at least deploys the darling chemistry between Billy Crudup and Mandy Moore to good effect.
Like Spider-Man 3, Shrek the Third is an experiment in excess.
No matter how long the film runs, it’s still a funny addition to the Strangers with Candy universe.
Amy Sedaris’s Jerri Blank is the project’s greatest visual effect.
In Chicken Little, the only thing that falls apart quicker than the sky is Foxy Loxy’s sexual identity.
A better name for Chicken Little might have been My First Spielberg Movie.