Like Cake, Meadowland takes a slow, painfully close look at the effects of a parent losing a child.
Jeff Baena’s film, at heart, is just another overly familiar story of a boy struggling to get over his first love and who’s rewarded for his troubles with a less volatile replacement model.
The film is too over-determined and familiar to linger in the memory very long after the credits roll.
Essentially the film aims to trade in the awkwardness of teen sexuality, but too often settles for the gross-out gag instead.
The film is unfortunate proof that Pixar, previously known for its brains, is now resting a little too heavily on its nominal brawn.
The film’s indulgence of its central, vaguely monstrous figure is as stunning as its not-so-casual misogyny.
The posters chicly suggest this won’t be just another tour of Charlie Sheen’s twisted brain.
Given dreadful material, no one in the cast does even passable work.
If nothing else, 10 Years is hip to the fleeting, fundamental joys of revisiting one’s youth.
The film teases out the possibilities and perils of time travel without embroiling itself in the confusion inherent to the subject.
Ushering in new, smartly written characters and sculpting them into real people is something the show has perfected in season four.
The first six episodes of the third season display some of the sharpest writing currently on the air.
The film’s new DVD release will hopefully prove how long its legs are.
Judd Apatow’s reflexive, cock-obsessed picture posits Adam Sandler’s infantilism as something like an eternal condition.
It’s now just a waiting game to see if this patchy episodic specimen can gradually move past its Office-inspired roots.