The film never meaningfully reckons with the complexity of the characters’ motivations and the consequences of their actions.
The film is a second-rate airport thriller that makes The Hunt for Red October seem like nonfiction by comparison.
The Hate U Give has taken the recent Black Lives Matter movement—with all its passion, fury, and hunger for justice—and turned it into a lesson plan.
Smallfoot is ballsy for pushing young viewers to question culturally coded notions of good and evil.
Right out of the gate, the film only sees a kind of blunt irony in this blurring of her public and private selves.
The bulk of August Greene primarily operates in a pensive, minor-key mode.
A worthy escalation of its predecessor’s sleek charm, John Wick: Chapter 2 is the finest action film since Mad Max: Fury Road.
Everyone here, from fellow marines to Iraqis, is merely a supporting player in Megan Leavey’s emotional journey.
The film remarkably balances its predecessor’s spartan characterizations and plotting with an expansion of scale.
Most of the film’s characters are unconvincing, flattened out by Charlie’s self-focused lens.
The film is a pop sonata of stand-up comedy routines layered with, if not vitality, then at least honest energy.
It has a problem that’s familiar to sporadically involving crime procedurals: It’s just good enough to inspire wishes that it were better.
Ava DuVernay’s Selma paradoxically presents nonviolent civil rights protest as something akin to a military campaign.
This time around, in spotlighting Liam Neeson’s fatigued charisma, Jaume Collet-Serra’s formidable filmmaking chops have plateaued.
What will make it essential for future generations isn’t mere flashpoint topicality, but the way it aligns an old struggle with a current one.
On Nobody’s Smiling, a rejuvenated Common returns to the war-torn streets of Southside Chicago as a wise and focused veteran.