Fuck the haters.
This is the summer movie I've wanted all season.
Jason Bourne is not without issue. Direct references to Snowden and the not-so-veiled Assange character were completely unnecessary. The script feels about 20 pages too long. And many of the tried and true Bourne beats are getting very tired. But I still found myself gripping the seat throughout, and that's more than I can say for just about anything else I saw this summer.
Do we need another Jason Bourne movie? No.
Will I watch another Jason Bourne movie? Yes.
A powerful portrait of sexual addiction. Michael Fassbender gives his most captivating performance (of so many) of the year as Brandon, a man drowning in emotionless rage. McQueen's use of camera placement puts the audience intimately close to Brandon, creating a simultaneously repulsive yet engrossing experience.
The gorgeously gritty images of New York City and Brandon's inability to connect with anyone, not even himself, create a film that feels like an update to the world of Travis Bickle. The streets…
Well... That whomped. Truffaut + (Future-dystopia + the 60s) = a pretty awful idea. Honestly that equation probably works just the same without throwing Truffaut into it, but as the director and a screenwriters he must be held responsible. Why are there soooo many shots of the fire truck speeding to its location? Why did it all look like a sitcom set? Why does the future look so much like the 60s? Why did no one even try to get…