It has its moments.
Oh, these poor actors.
This is one of those vengeance movies where the audience waits impatiently for the bad guys to get it so it really, really, really hurts. And they do.
At a dinner party for old friends, the guests decide on a dumb whim to place their cell phones on the table and share every text or call.
You’ll never want to go in a lighthouse again.
It’s good enough to make you wish it were better, less slack, more resolved.
From the start, it’s clear director Jen McGowan will be putting her heroine through hell while protecting her from degradation.
The movie’s climactic musical number is positively award-worthy. It alone is worth enduring the opening slog.
The Ruth Bader Ginsburg biopic hits its marks with the subtlety of a legal brief. But that’s not fatal.
Adam McKay has devised a rollicking comic style for what amounts to an anti-hagiography, a scabrous portrait of Dick Cheney the Unholy One.
In Barry Jenkins’s work, loss is a given. He lyricizes it and sometimes seems to wallow in it.
Including Bradley Cooper, Zoe Kazan, and Rachel Weisz.
Without many advance screenings or the usual ballyhoo for a Clint Eastwood film.
It’s a work of painstaking re-creation, and it’s full of nice touches. But it’s a bit of a dud.
No matter how far back it reaches, Divide and Conquer always feels as if it’s in the present tense.
I can’t remember ever having seen Julia Roberts work this hard.
Including a few directorial debuts — and some incredible new works from old favorites.
Part of the movie’s fun is how it forces you to share Lazarro’s go-along-to-get-along ebullience.
Though mostly twaddle as history, it’s the machinations of the movie’s characters that will sweep you up.
As an act of sympathetic imagination, the movie is only partly successful, but that part can take your breath away. The images vibrate with emotion.