Think of Julius Avery’s Overlord as a reminder from a major Hollywood studio that Nazis are really bad.
It’s the obnoxious equivalent of trying to have a serious conversation with people who are high out of their minds.
Violence is teased, but tantalizingly withheld, throughout the season-seven finale of Game of Thrones.
Three episodes into this truncated seventh season and Game of Thrones is spiraling toward a preordained place.
The exquisite Blu-ray transfer makes an argument for the film’s remarkable production design and audio/visual construction.
Even after six seasons, Game of Thrones still doesn’t know what’s most important to its own story.
Its headiness exists beyond its more pseudo-philosophical dialogue about the differences between fantasy and reality.
Ben-Hur director Timur Bekmambetov offers nothing new to the cinematic lexicon of the chariot race.
The show is no longer holding anything back in story or tone, and it’s making this fantasy world feel all too real.
Many of the events in Game of Thrones are developing so quickly that plot, by necessity, substitutes for development.
It stages its claims through clunky dramaturgical scenarios, with the seams exposed at every turn.
Luc Besson lacks the intellectual rigor to successfully realize the ambition evident in the metaphysical third act, but it’s still exhilarating to watch him try.
Regardless of how you rate Captain Phillips, this is the Greengrassian antidote, plumbing enormous tension by resisting precisely the kind of sensationalism that seems to be the siren’s call for this kind of story.
Tobias Lindholm’s hostage-negotiation drama wields its verité style for maximum tension.