Christopher Nolan’s film willfully and startlingly dispenses with the plodding routines of the average biopic.
Rarely has a film used its foreknowledge of a happy ending as a reason to remain so uncritical and incurious of its central subject.
Netflix’s latest horror offering only rarely assumes a form greater than its individual elements and references.
Writer-director Susan Walter’s film is almost determined to disprove the causality of social phenomena.
Peter Landesman’s film is a kind of hagiography, and it leans toward whitewashing its subject’s legacy.
The film’s characters are stock types without enough satirical texture to fulfill their function in the narrative.
Above all of the more modest achievements in structure and casting looms Zucker’s garish comedic sensibilities.
Neil Burger’s film transcends the déjà vu of its borrowed trappings but ironically sacrifices all momentum in favor of a long series of physical tests.
Sony handles the second season of FX’s exemplary neo-western series beautifully in terms of technical transfer.
As far as frightful childhood figures went, to me the Boogeyman had nothing on Jason Voorhees.
Damages back-slips noticeably during its third season, but never so much that the show is worth writing off.
Justified’s first season is further proof that FX is now a major contender for provider of quality dramas and is not to be missed.
The film makes over its subpar predecessor into a generic yet serviceable Statham vehicle.
What you see is unfortunately all of what you get.
This sequel is one elaborate in-joke about itself, and if you like the series you might have affection for what it’s trying to do.
The film feels more like a harbinger for the Scream series with its self-aware jokiness.
As far as dumb but entertaining serial dramas go, you could do a lot worse than Dexter.
Our long national lousy-horror-remake nightmare has finally—or at least temporarily—ended.
As if Hollywood films needed any outside help to celebrate arrested narcissism, along comes The Last Kiss.
American Gun is the little sibling of Paul Haggis’s Crash. Its only charm is that it’s 20 minutes shorter.