As the series progresses toward its climax, its frequent tonal shifts distract from the substance of the story.
It’s difficult to imagine a worse time to release Brian Kirk’s 21 Bridges than the present.
Joseph Kosinski’s Only the Brave displays a kinship to Howard Hawks’s hard-nosed, old-fashioned pragmatism.
It’s impossible to take it seriously as anything other than an Abercrombie & Fitch ad posing as a political thriller.
This is an irritating table-setting episode in which the characters constantly explain how the pieces fit together.
Everything you need to know about the inconsistencies of the show can be summed up by the two standoffs that occur in this episode.
Good and evil have often been described as two sides of the coin that is humanity, and “Down Will Come” certainly puts that theory into practice.
Ultimately, what gets Frank out of bed is an echo of Leonard Cohen’s sentiment in the show’s theme song, “Nevermind.”
All the central characters have moments here in which they, for all intents and purposes, might well be dead.
There’s an engaging trashiness to season two of True Detective, but the overall production feels overbearingly self-serious.
Like many films that contrast the simplicity of a rural community against the confusion of city life, The Grand Seduction exhibits a patriarchal, xenophobic attitude.
Like his prior The Kingdom, Peter Berg’s film pretends to dabble in a frothy moral ambiguity, swiftly betraying its true aims with trigger-happy jingoism.
Stone returns to the grit, grime, and blood of his glory days with this breakneck SoCal-set thriller.
While his classic hyperbolic visual style is back in force, Oliver Stone can’t bother to muster any of his usual righteous anger.
The odd, uneven John Carter is better than you’d expecting, but it’s still an unwieldy collection of mostly half-realized dreams.
What’s most insulting about Battleship isn’t its awfulness, but that everyone involved knew it was a terrible concept from the get-go.
It’s probably not a good sign that the poster for Oliver Stone’s Savages makes a perfect column subject for Easter Sunday.
Imagine you’re at a picnic, and you have a paper plate.
The film is less interested in questions of photojournalistic ethics than the emotional and psychological suffering of its four white South Africans in apartheid-torn 1994.
On a whole, the new season manages to retain its depth and heart-wrenching warmth despite a sea change in its structure and characters.