The Circle ★★½

The Circle wants to say so much about the death of privacy; the erasure of the boundary between life and work; the co-opting of the public sphere, even government, by neo-corporate interests; and so on and so forth. But it comes out as a sausage stuffed with blather, the poorest kind of blindingly obvious satire that doesn’t leave the audience with any questions to ponder, so proud it is of answering them for itself. One exception being a frustratingly stupid subplot based on the notion that people don’t realise deer shed their antlers? Oh, and its decidedly mixed messages about radical transparency. (Maybe blame Dave Eggers for that, though I haven’t read the novel.) Still, I’ll give it something: my chest tightened five minutes in at the realisation that Bill Paxton and Glenne Headly are no longer with us. They are the soul of the film that’s conspicuously absent in the eyes of fresh-faced tabula rasa Emma Watson.