Scott Mann’s film succeeds by simply committing to and steadily ratcheting up the ludicrous awesomeness of its premise.
Writer-director Evan Spiliotopoulos barely capitalizes on the luridly sacrilegious implications of the film’s premise.
In season nine, The Walking Dead concerns itself with the nitty-gritty of ensuring an egalitarian system of government.
Unlike Gareth Edwards’s Godzilla, which benefited from its Jaws-style slow burn, it’s all noise without crescendo.
The season finale of The Walking Dead functioned mainly as a prolonged teaser for the battle to come.
The episode is at its most artful when sound accentuates the way the storylines have been braided together.
The episode takes a break from the hatchet-faced military strategizing and obligatory slicing and dicing.
The film joylessly coopts the hoariest stylistic tics and narrative tropes from your run-of-the-mill 1990s thriller.
The episode provides more examples of the authoritarian fascism that gives this season an urgent sense of relevancy.
The latest episode of The Walking Dead approaches war and other forms of carnage from a new direction.
Angela Kang’s screenplay efficiently establishes the riches that are available to the Santuary’s elite.
Every quick cut of a peaceful and happy time is a sliver of a lost past—or vision of a future that can now never happen.
Any perceptive dialogue or contemporary socio-political subtext is pummeled by Jonás Cuarón’s preference for empty genre thrills.
The season finale of The Walking Dead builds toward its conclusion with self-consciously melodramatic flair.
Mir-Jean Bou Chaaya’s Very Big Shot remains skeptical about the transformative power of cinema, since it operates by the whims and capital of a select few.
Scott Mann’s film gets by on chutzpah, growing more diverting with every ludicrous plot twist.
Everything here is needlessly bloated to accommodate its status as an international, prestige production.
The Salvation is hemmed in by its fealty to the ghosts of westerns’ past.
Kristian Levring’s film achieves nothing more than hollow caricature.
It feeds the warrior fantasies of adolescent boys with a testosterone-heavy tale of a war free of moral complications.