For all of its talk about pushing boundaries, the film seems content to remain in the past.
For all of its slavish devotion to Mary Poppins, the sequel doesn’t even seem to recognize its greatest attribute: its star.
This PG-rated romp is, refreshingly, less notable for its happily-ever-afters than its oh-no-they-didn’ts.
Michelle Williams quickly settles into one of the year’s best performances, and one of its purest sources of movie bliss.
So, this is going to get very disgusting very soon, and it’s not for the squeamish.
There’s nothing strange—or in any way extraordinary—about this dim-witted bore.
Like Nine, and like Robert Altman’s Ready to Wear, this dud coasts entirely on the reputations of its participants.
Nine is a passionless production by a creatively blocked director.
Natasha Richardson, certainly not a singer at the level of Liza Minnelli, was faced with numerous challenges when starting to work on this role.
Zellweger’s generic, front-page-ready, girl-next-door smile is outshone by the desperation in Minnelli’s eyes when Sally sings.
Rob Marshall doesn’t hype the soul of Japan, only its artifice.
Best Picture Oscar-winner Chicago gets a no-frills package on this DVD edition.
Because Rob Marshall takes little pain to create a life between musical numbers, Chicago plods along from one outburst to the next.