The film’s annoying glibness is neatly summarized by the line: “In life, going downhill is an uphill job.”
It ignores the delights and hardships of becoming an artist in lieu of simply presenting the long-touted liberating effects of art.
Books themselves become the story’s key symbol, representing the past and future, loss and possibility, of a place that’s ground zero for some of history’s darkest days.
Ken Loach’s breezy scribble about lowlife redemption and drunken buffoonery isn’t so much heavy-handed as it is charmingly weightless.
The most studied Best Picture nominee in ages, The Queen has been impeccably primped to neither offend nor elate no one.
V for Vendetta, unlike the Alan Moore comic from which it’s adapted, is scarily flat.
Like much of Michael Winterbottom’s work, Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story is a highly uneven enterprise.