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This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
This movie marks the first time I have ever yelled, “Oh my God!” out loud in a movie theatre. (It was in March right before the pandemic hit.)
(And, to those who saw this gem: It was the fine dining restaurant scene that made me scream.)
This public gasp is a compliment.
Never have I seen such a thriller/sci-fi hybrid masterfully blend the fantastical with the tangible. This is such a rare feat because there’s actually little suspension of disbelief…
You’ve lost me on this one, Mr. Fincher.
Your latest feels like a bad bland Hollywood motion picture trying to be a good bland Hollywood motion picture.
Yes, the Tinseltown ambiance and “aw shucks” winks and wisecracks pay tribute to a time when exposition was more prominent than character development, but that’s the crux of Mank: If it wants to be old school celluloid, then why is it playing tongue-in-cheek games through a digital lens, characters made of shells, and…
Surface level compared to The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (2007) and The Wrestler (2008) but immersive and organically empathetic nonetheless. The sound design is groundbreaking, but the dialogue is rudimentary and all too familiar in the trope of an “acceptance” movie. I went back and forth on this one, yet the performances (especially Riz Ahmed) drew me into that phenomenal ending. What makes this one stand out from all the other conventional addict narratives is its quasi-documentary perspective - an observant take on developing acceptance in both literal and metaphoric deafness. That ending...
A cerebral, extremely adult-oriented product of Pixar/Disney, Soul delivers on an audacious, imaginative level but may leave the kiddos bored, confused, or making fart noises to make up for the lack of humor. This is the advanced follow up to Inside Out (2015) for those who wanted to philosophize more or even delve into analytic cubism. (A dream come true for every child in America.) I wanted to like it more but felt like it was playing the meaning of life card so safely that it ended up lacking...well...soul. This is no Coco.
1917 is a miracle in filmmaking. Never have I been so deep-seated in a journey through the shrapnel-infested bloodshed of war and my theatre chair at the same time. I blame it all on the camera work.
The camera puts you right there.
As British soldiers Blake (Dean-Charles Chapman) and Schofield (George MacKay) deliver a message to higher authority to end an invasion against a retreating German front that will end up being a deathtrap for thousands, the camera follows…