Englishman in Paris.
An interminable crock of shit.
The moments of Ian Malcolm's incredulity are as close as we get to charm. Every action sequence refuses to orient the viewer, to their great discomfort. The returned orig' tridge cast throw into sharp relief how poor company Owen and Claire have been.
I'm as happy as anyone that Malta got its first Hollywood dollar since Popeye, but that entire sequence was an unnecessary delay to the fun of assembling the dino avengers. With this…
Soul would have been called imaginative and original without hesitation a few years ago, specifically before its Pixar spirtual precursor Inside Out and Michael Schur's creative carte blanche The Good Place. Its timing is otherwise perfect. The emotional payoff peaks in the second act, with character moments strewn throughout a Pixarified New York. The central message of the film that life is bigger than a singular passion is muddied by an insistence that life is what New York makes it,…