A satisfying conclusion to a campy slashed trilogy that has all intentions of being the the jumping off point to weave its own Netflix cash infused, MCU style horror cinematic universe.
I love this movie. I suck at cards. I love the outrageous characters. It is a quintessential 90s flick. In so much as it does no favors to its female actors or their story arc.
It lives by one of its quotable mantras (that today would be call cringe) That in the poker game of life, women are the rake. They’re the fucking rake. Worm, the movie agrees with you.
I love Malkovich as Teddy KGB, I often quote him…
After Ryan Cooglar left me emotionally spent from the, immensely undervalued work from both Academy and the masses, Fruitvale Station- I knew Creed would carry the Rocky torch proudly. Michael B. Jordan gives yet another "knock out" performance, and continues to grow in his acting range.
I have come to realize that I am a sucker for a good boxing film. The sport has lost relevance in today's "everything now" culture. There is no beauty of the build up to…