Emotional complication might have elevated Maze Runner: The Death Cure out of its programmatic torpor.
The film is an awkward mix of swashbuckling love story and polemic, painted in very broad strokes.
The film’s sense of nostalgia is ultimately a reflection of how little the film asks of its audience.
Every set piece brings to mind an Epcot Center attraction built from borrowed parts, and on a CW show’s budget.
The film devolves quickly into a pedestrian character study that basks in Gary Webb’s public shaming and victimization.
Gore Verbinski’s real purdy (and genuinely entertaining) big-budget western has been snuck out on video under cover of darkness.
The movie, of course, barrels toward climax upon climax, and while possibly better photographed, the crashes, bangs, and booms are no less numbing than anything else you’ve seen in this summer of garbage blockbusters.
So-so features can’t dampen an otherwise prodigious presentation of the Coens’ latest masterwork. Fill you hand, you son-of-a-bitch!