You all wrote off The Lone Ranger as big-budget Hollywood tripe but you were excessively incorrect. Are you equally mistaken to dismiss Verbinski’s latest, A Cure for Wellness?
A pleasant half-hour of light gags interspersed with 100 minutes of grueling, plotless CGI boredom does not a movie make.
An emoji is not an emotion, even if we’re talking about a smiling pile of poop.
Tom Waits made a bizarre, unique concert film people didn’t understand when it opened? And it’s actually wonderful? How very surprising.
This is a flying car that just took a high-caliber round through the engine block.
If it’s a pre-apocalyptic future wasteland you want to luxuriate in, Blade Runner 2049 is the movie for you.
Harry Dean Stanton is Lucky.
Imagine if you took Mad Max and mixed it with mumblecore and maybe a dash of Hal Hartley. Just, you know, with cannibals and psychedelics and fear of the other.
Whatever else you might think of mother!, you have certainly never seen this movie before.
In which I remember Harry Dean Stanton (not that I ever forgot him).
Evil clown fetishists, rejoice! The rest of you, move along.
You know what film I knew was going to be terrible within the first three minutes?
Logan Lucky frames itself as a paean to the people of the Mid-Atlantic and their underrated pluck. ‘Take me home, country roads,’ it croons, but I was not tempted.
In which movies of the past feel strangely suited to our absurd present.