The episode gives the audience exactly what it expects, and absolutely nothing else.
Violence is teased, but tantalizingly withheld, throughout the season-seven finale of Game of Thrones.
The episode that dials back from the epic confrontations that have filled out the majority of this season.
Even after six seasons, Game of Thrones still doesn’t know what’s most important to its own story.
The depressing truth to the episode’s title may be that no one can get what they want without violence.
Jerzy Skolimowski fetishizes objects, imbuing them with a kind of debauchedly contemporary totemic power.
Those expecting it to be one of To’s manic comedies will instead be met with arguably his most dour drama.
The Gerard Johnson film’s blanket cynicism is its most shopworn quality of all.
It distinguishes itself from Pual Greengrass’s films by virtue of its close attention to political and moral ambiguities.
Marina de Van’s film is beholden to a strange internal logic that gives primacy not to its protagonist’s suffering, but to its maker’s thirst for fun.
The film dissects the intersection of two men’s lives in the aftermath of wartime and sectarian conflict.