The film mines a rich vein of emotive pain without sacrificing an inch of its spooky sense of fun.
The show's hacky obviousness couldn’t be any further removed from the ethos of Jonathan Demme’s seminal 1991 thriller.
It was clearly conceived by men who have no interest in approaching female friendships with any degree of complexity, curiosity, or respect.
The film is clearly influenced by Wes Craven’s shrill, violent, and weirdly erotic Scream series.
The film is so unusually moving and penetrating because it refuses to cloud its emotions in distancing irony, anger, or nihilism.
It places its characters in a reflexive historical continuum that dooms them to be mere demonstrative types from start to finish.
The film comes to play like a sly sales pitch for 3D TV sales, directed squarely at coach-potato potheads.
The film’s amplification of scale and subject matter isn’t, alas, accompanied by an upgrade in humor.
Epic Movie is something of a wake-up call to how low our collective standards have really become.
Mort Nathan’s Van Wilder 2: The Rise of Taj defines pedestrian filmmaking on every conceivable level
The disc’s intense focus on the film’s production and Brandon Routh’s transformation into Superman probably makes this a must-own for fans.
It’s a pleasant enough piece of hackwork, anonymous in all the right ways so that it neither offends nor thrills.
True to the spirit of the film, the hearty supplemental materials arranged on this DVD set range from the dope to the simply flatulent.
There’s little to distinguish the film from its dope-loving forefathers aside from its shameless shilling for artery-clogging junk food.
Since ABC never really pandered to urban crows, now little kids in the hood can have their own After School Special to make them vomit.
The film serviceably recreates the clique-infested teen culture of an affluent suburban high school.
Like Slackers, Super Troopers, and last year’s Wet Hot American Summer, Van Wilder brings to mind the gross-out yarns of yesteryear.