“How do we get ahead of crazy if we don’t know how crazy thinks?”
It’s to the Oscars’ shame that they couldn’t nominate a pair of movies each containing multitudes that would give Baskin-Robbins a cold sweat.
It mostly succeeds in conveying a galvanizing sense of what made Winehouse so immediately engaging.
Asif Kapadia’s Senna would be merely another in a long line of tragic-athlete documentaries were it not for the director’s compelling approach.
A straightforward ghost story whose nonsensicality—unlike most J-horror thrillers—doesn’t seem to be intentional.
It’s to the film’s credit that it’s able to say so much with very little words and even less righteousness.