Dolittle’s inability to completely develop any of its characters reduces the film to all pomp and no circumstance.
The film’s victims are pawns in a super-gory bacchanal, which is aesthetically striking but emotionally dull.
Brad’s Status resonates because Mike White clearly sees Brad’s faults but refuses to judge him for them.
Writer-director Joseph Cedar charts Norman’s rise-and-fall arc with the attention to detail of a procedural.
Monogamy, Passengers suggests, is tantamount to existing in a world where nothing else matters outside of the bond you and your partner share.
The film gets close to a double-barreled satirical thriller commenting on the historic rift between city and country.
The film’s story threads are of a tonal piece, all about striking poses as opposed to exploring humanity.
The film doesn’t clear the CGI cobwebs or successfully anchor any of its new events with emotional heft.
In its third season, Masters of Sex continues to exude a feeling of undue self-satisfaction.
The actor discusses what drew him to Far from the Madding Crowd and Vinterberg’s approach to improvisation.
The lack of real analysis or consideration leaves this perilously close to a Goldilocks-style depiction of privileged female indecision.
The film devolves quickly into a pedestrian character study that basks in Gary Webb’s public shaming and victimization.
Its second season is no more or less disappointing than a grand seduction that concludes with a minute-long roll in the hay.
It gradually reveals a lot of unsavory motives, which ultimately deflate the buoyant virtues on which it had blithely coasted.
It seems rigidly anchored to its basic premise: Everything revolves around sex, and frankly, the daily grind grows monotonous as time goes on.
The estrogenic elements prove widely ineffectual, but they’re just pieces of this overloaded misfire whose double-entendre title ultimately just goads the jaded viewer to admit defeat.
The film is going to net a lot of undue, hyperbolic ink, simply because it’s the first Twilight installment that’s compulsively watchable.
The title alone invites you to cuss at this smug film out.
Fable-like, if not exactly fabulous, Midnight in Paris gets shoved onto shelves in a barebones edition from Sony Pictures Home Entertainment.
The point is not to fix what’s happened but to learn to live with it.