I almost dread to look at the filmmaking masterpieces, Best Picture winners and certified classics I've given a lower score to - but then I remember Christine Baranski saying 'be still my beating vagina' and all the guilt disperses
With just the right amount of dramatic weight, well-measured humour and tenderness, St. Vincent is a charming piece that will find its way into your heart. While it becomes a little too sentimental at times, the terrific cast - led by Bill Murray, Melissa McCarthy and Jaeden Lieberher - do a mighty fine job of preventing it from feeling too twee by delivering well-rounded performances that dive into a multitude of hard-hitting themes explored in writer-director Theodore Melfi's script.
A brutal, unflinching and gritty piece of filmmaking with a shattering performance of Olivia Colman that cements her position as one of the UK's superlative talents, of any gender, generation or age. It's perhaps one of the most depressing things put to screen, and the continued bleakness is often too difficult to handle, but it's a well-crafted, sombre evaluation that marks Paddy Considine as a director to watch out for.
I’d rather be stripped naked and tied to the back of a moving truck by my leg, dragged kicking and screaming over 22 miles of shattered glass and then set alight than experience this shitshow again.
Genuinely one of the most shambolic, offensive and abysmal pieces of fimmmaking I have clocked eyes on. A hateful experience, as incoherent as it is mean-spirited, with some of the worst editing to be thrown on our screens in a long time. A complete…