Woke Disney, trying to navigate a tricky representational path, steps all over itself throughout.
A mostly laugh-free, paint-by-numbers approach to a pair of former pros vying for relevance as they enter into their mid 30s.
The Returned works best in its quieter, more contemplative moments, as the living struggle with how to reintegrate the returned into their lives.
The film is the cinematic equivalent of a teen making everything more melodramatic than it needs to be.
Ultimately, the film is nothing more than a Lifetime movie dolled up in cheap Philip K. Dick drag.
Paramount’s highly admirable transfer of Clueless makes a renewed claim for the film’s place in the canon.
The film isn’t sexy, it’s devoid of campy thrills, and it’s singularly unfunny.
These episodes uphold the show’s recent trend of slowly and seamlessly exposing the characters’ personal lives.
There’s a certain lurid fascination at play in Damian Harris’s fictional account of the abduction and sexual abuse of an eight-year-old girl.
The granddaddy of Dick Wolf’s franchise turns 18 this year. Which is 126 seasons in television years.
Waitress suggests an SNL alum’s reinterpretation of the TV show Alice.
A point emerges, this notion that we’re all born good, but it’s not one that gets a concerned workout.
The film awkwardly shifts gears from gritty independent film realism to gonzo hysteria without ever feeling accurate.
The show is predicated on a concept, rather than a plot, that has never allowed a fully realized exploration of its many devices.
Why can’t we all just get along?
Like the club-kid docu-drama Kids before it, Thirteen is a very real depiction of what life is like for a small faction of America’s teenagers.
Luis Mandoki’s Angel Eyes could pass for a lost M. Night Shyamalan film.