The fun but more predictable Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald moves the new series forward, but only incrementally.
When its tone slides firmly back into the murk, it’s hard not to see DC’s notion of heroism as borderline nihilistic.
The film exists resolutely outside of salience and doggedly within the comfort of escapism.
The script doesn’t revel in Amy’s quite harmless flaws, or at least examine them in the spirit of benevolence.
The formalism fashions effective textural shortcuts to behavioral understanding that the remarkable cast fills in with finesse.
It neglects to thoroughly conceive of Emma’s plight, instead making only sporadic gestures to it.