The film matches stylistic experimentation with a multi-tiered narrative of equal ambition.
For both better and worse, I Love My Dad feels less like a film than an exorcism.
This a much leaner film in terms of narrative incident than In the Family, though it paves the way for Patrick Wang to step into new artistic terrain.
Adam Sandler’s celebration of stunted-maturity stupidity continues unabated in That’s My Boy.
Considering the sorry state of American romantic comedies, Just Go with It’s wholesale predictability is a moot point.
Nia Vardalos soldiers on with the painfully unfunny assumption that everyone wants to be Greek.
Teh film is a groan-worthy SNL sketch distended to feature length.
The film’s Gut-Buster-to-Forehead-Slapper ratio is relatively even.
The film puts on a surprisingly mawkish show of political correctness against distinctly retrograde forms of homophobia.
The episodes are structured around broad screwball plots in which Fey is made to jump through all kinds of hoops to keep her job and/or her sanity.
The only relief here is that Ed Burns doesn’t conclude the story with a group of sensitive men cathartically crying.
The film delivers nothing more than a familiar Sundance-style brand of stagy, small-scale drama.
A not-so-solid film gets a solid audio and video transfer and the red carpet treatment in the features department.
There’s potential here for potent Hollywood ribbing, but Dickie Roberts mostly plays like an E! True Hollywood Story.
Peyton Reed successfully recreates the pathology of a time period without ever really addressing it.