This buckaroo of a disc does not blow it on the image and sound front, though the extras certainly don’t attest to Steven Spielberg’s seriousness of intent.
It climaxes with a clever workaround of the superhero blockbuster’s overreliance on apocalyptic finales.
If it turned out to be Spielberg’s final film, it would make for a fitting final curtain call for his brand of escapism.
It’s almost impossible for the film to honor its predecessor without lapsing into contrived and preordained formula.
Silicon Valley constantly draws on and deepens our understanding of its characters.
This is a beautifully constructed bottle rocket of an episode, shooting out a cascading shower of comic sparks.
Silicon Valley’s humor springs organically from the relationships between its well-rounded characters.
The episode abounds in the excruciatingly awkward would-be-alpha-male slang that is the show’s specialty.
The episode consists of comic meditations on the friction between programmers and the people they rely on.
The episode ties together multiple plot threads by connecting them all to the fate of See Food.
The latest episode of the show takes a satiric look at the all-important yet elusive concept of intellectual property.
The episode is full of wonderfully wooden nerd-boy stabs at what Donald Trump calls locker-room talk.
The latest episode of Silicon Valley skewers the industry’s social mores and morals with precision.
Josh Gordon and Will Speck’s Office Christmas Party generally smacks of trying too hard to earn its laughs.
The film’s whiplash contrasts between snideness and sincerity are deeply rooted in Deadpool’s psychology.
The film quickly becomes a study of grief and retribution, and the question of how exactly technology can and should be utilized in the treatment of these emotions.
Dean DeBlois’s film has the core of a genuine crowd-pleaser, but unfortunately something bigger and more all-consuming keeps getting into its head.
It isn’t a sophisticated comedy by any means, but its overall lightheartedness manages to save it from becoming completely dull.
The film is a predictable, drawn-out romantic comedy that happens to be set in the shadow of impending apocalypse.
If Our Idiot Brother clearly courts Gump-ian territory, its pattern finally bears a stronger resemblance to Pier Paolo Pasolini’s Teorema.