The sense that children’s attitudes toward militarization are being normalized is its objectionable given.
From the fidgety lead performances to the seemingly Ron Howard-inspired aesthetic, it’s rife with bad choices.
The Soloist is a crude fiasco that trivializes the very values it allegedly enshrines.
Joe Wright is prone to frustrating tendencies that are ascendant in The Soloist.
If grief were as easily overcome as it is in Catch and Release, Prozac sales would be in dire trouble.
To say that Charlotte’s Web doesn’t dishonor its source sounds like a backhanded compliment, but it’s actually the highest praise.
Charlotte’s Web tempts us to look for allegory in Charlotte’s politicking for the other white meat.
If only the movie could have found a way to put Shirley MacLaine in every scene.
Girlfriend talks as if she’s constantly burning her bras but she can’t tell when some scumbag is trying to shamelessly get into her panties.
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon?