Lizzy’s review published on Letterboxd:
It's to such a tragic point that Nolan has no ideas, no passion, and no point to making any form of art beyond showing you how good he is at making art, that his movies have just completely devolved into sluggish stone-cold bloat-piles that have no mouth or eyes but can only scream at you about how well-made they are because somebody used an IMAX. The chronology of Nolan's Inferno has gone full-circle and warped itself. There is no innovation, there is nothing fine, nothing true, and nothing even remotely vulgar or fun. There is only flexing. The two and a half hour nightmares are so abundant that they become the same thing. Someone please fire this man.