A movie about how Jeremy Irvine really, REALLY wants to fuck that horse, and nothing else. Exactly +1 star for every good half hour this movie has and -1 for each shitty one; a really decent back 50 minutes following a laborious hour and 40 minutes of pure suckage. Spielberg isn't very good anymore, dudes - and even when his films are half tolerable now he still forgets how to actually craft good characters or a story that isn't either…
Why do the domesticated PG-13 horror movie throwaways get all the clever concepts? Needless to say that my main problem with this - as with most of these - was that it was too damn tame. If you're going to attempt to make Final Destination meets Truth or Dare through a phone app then by God at least have the decency to show more than THREE visible deaths and use more to replace much of this stock, hokey…
A narcissistic sexual abuser pens a sappy, conventional "ball is life" poem then somehow bagged Glen Keane and John Fucking Williams to make a shitty vanity fluff project that wouldn't suit the DVD extras of a low-grade sports film.
*Gets nominated for Oscar, in the year of #MeToo nonetheless*
Here's a petition to take away this hack's nomination, in case you were wondering: www.thepetitionsite.com/678/266/652/take-oscar-nomination-away-from-kobe-byrant-a-known-rapist/