Boots Riley may be "new" to narrative, mainstream-ish filmmaking, but he's a natural/pro at articulating the populist anger, so to speak. Few films since NETWORK are that level "mad as hell" and even fewer are as wildly inventive and self-satirical yet righteously driven as DR. STRANGELOVE, but somehow this movie achieves both comparisons. Our gig economy to the max, our hero worship of the top 1% bros spotlighted and our numb dumb over-worked minds are exposed in heightened but real…
"Tales to astonish!" indeed. Grand scale spectacle to small stakes drama makes for some goofy doofy fun. Rudd and Lily are cute and great together, playing off their foibles and hang-ups with much ease. And, of course, the plot boils down to giving Michelle Pfeiffer her rightful spot in the light. Not bad, but if only some scenes knew when to quit. If only some of the sillier dialogue and conversations hadn't been done to death. If only we didn't get multiple moments of Michael Douglas rolling his eyes at everyone (he knew). If only it had another shot at being trimmed for length. If only.
Utterly deplorable. Horrid melodrama with a time and setting used only for dramatic exploitation. Nothing new is revealed or anything found within us, just people weeping, bickering, coughing and yelling like Nolan's Batman. When you use green screen, cgi smoke and desaturated lighting to indicate fiery conditions, you're telling me how cheap and uncreative you are. Rushed through to ... make a buck? To capitalize on ... that sweet 9/11 nostalgia we all share? Why was this movie made? It…
A devastating production that's less scary but more tragic than you'd think. It holds back on exposition and meaning, leaving the images and action to speak for themselves. At twenty-four paintings a second, never wasting a sequence, the film is like a Cormac McCarthy cover song if performed by David Lynch. That's a dangerous pairing.
Go in knowing nothing, come out feeling everything.