For all of its slavish devotion to Mary Poppins, the sequel doesn’t even seem to recognize its greatest attribute: its star.
It arrives on home video ready for canonization as a new family-friendly classic, and this Blu-ray transfer immaculately reflects its inviting warmth.
Paul King’s Paddington 2 profoundly believes in the harmonizing power of warmth, politeness, and the absurd.
A beautiful presentation of a weird, sporadically exciting film that merges the tropes of the James Bond series with a startlingly expressive aesthetic.
The narrative is helplessly adrift, a yarn that extols vague grit and determination with no discernible through line.
One doesn’t doubt the filmmakers’ empathy for Lili even as one questions its sentimentality.
There’s much to admire here, from its symbolically sickly aesthetic to its clearly shot action sequences.
The film’s episodes and attitudes register with searing immediacy while feeling true to their time period.
As intelligent, often hilarious, and occasionally insightful as it is, it aslo shows a filmmaker’s style hardening into shtick.
The film is surprising for the way it finds a near-ideal balance between its childlike playfulness and displays of mature wisdom.
The drama over dinner comes in small analgesic portions, and the secrets feel canned and the dialogue is too pretty to be believable.
Lilting doesn’t have any momentum or any sense of ambiguity, once the setup has been established.
Wary as he may be about our chat turning too personal, his answers reveal more than he’s planned.
It’s another modern dystopia parable, which rehashes the same few superficial humanist/socialist platitudes over and over again, with such reliability as to nurture our complacency as effectively and insidiously as a Capital One ad.
It botches itself out of its own epic ambitions, an aesthetic slickness that seems to contradict, if not betray, its subject matter, and a maddeningly subdued critical spirit.
Like your buzzworthy British stars and venerable greats in the same place?
Was it fate that John Hurt provided the narration for Ben Whishaw’s 2006 breakout, Perfume?
You won’t find it on the top rosters of too many Oscar pundits, but at this stage, the alternately thrilling and unwieldy three-hour epic is the season’s closest thing to a wild card.