Rian Johnson’s film revives the comic whodunit, a la Clue, for an era of especially heightened class consciousness.
The series feels like a vehicle built merely to convey the information dug up by its progenitors.
With its silvery sheen and sexy lure of celebrity actors being naughty, the film recalls the decadent, self-consciously chic art it parodies.
Wanderlust arrives at the underwhelming conclusion that the grass only seems greener on the other side.
You may want for something to hold on to, but actors Tye Sheridan and Alden Ehrenreich slip through the fingers.
The actress discusses how she’s learned to protect herself from the afflictions her characters endure.
In writer-director Ari Aster’s smugly agitating feature debut, the devil is certainly in the hackneyed details.
The steadiness with which the film progresses through its dramatic beats is like its familiar-sounding indie pop.
It seems like Ari Aster’s feature-length directorial debut is being marketed as less miminalist in the horror department than both The Witch and It Comes at Night.
Dakota Fanning’s Wendy is less a truly thought-through character than a compendium of quirks.
With its dull mixture of indifferently staged exposition and action, it suggests a primitive side-scrolling video game.
The film is lazily content to simply put its female characters through the potty-mouthed, gross-out comedy ringer.
The action builds to such a head that even the serious stakes of the film’s motivation give way to pleasant vibes.
It demonstrates the fatal proximity and deceptive distance that can exist between the words and deeds of extremists.
At the center of the film is a conservative lesson that asks us to abide by society’s capitalistic impulses.
It winningly reflects how to utilize quiet understandings and, yes, very loud laughter.
It culminates in a weepy climax that verifies its status as a proud hunk of propaganda from America’s massive self-help industry.
An inept trifle, Pascal Chaumeil’s film reduces Nick Hornby’s novel of the same name to a series of smug self-help gestures.
The film is an almost plotless doodle, with low stakes made even lower thanks to the antiheroine’s bratty passivity.
The thinness of the material is only accentuated by the cast’s spirited efforts to pad it out.