• Spectre

    Spectre

    ★½

    Not quite as rubbish as I remember. The first 90 minutes are solid Bond stuff, but the final hour…woof. And, tonally: pick a lane! Either you’re a tongue-in-cheek gonzo spy flick or you’re a dark and gritty action film. What we end up with are head-scratching gags (the couch landing) or laughable contrivances (the entire third act) and never the satisfying, coherent vision of new millennium Bond from the prior three Craig entries.

  • No Time to Die

    No Time to Die

    NO TIME FOR FUN

  • Malignant
  • Pépé le Moko

    Pépé le Moko

    ★★★½

    This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.

    Jean Gabin is so goddamned French he’d rather stab himself in the heart than be with a Casbah gypsy LMAO

  • Dazed and Confused

    Dazed and Confused

    ★★

    Linklater’s American Graffiti.

    Everything I actively avoided in high school set during the lamest period (post-imperial Stones, pre-punk) in pop music history.

  • The Little Things

    The Little Things

    I doubt anyone would be surprised to learn John Lee Hancock’s warmed-over “thriller,” The Little Things, had been gathering dust for thirty years. This inept, uninspired mess stars three Academy Award winners that are—each uncannily apropos—out of their depth (Rami Malek), sleepwalking (Denzel Washington), or insufferably didactic (Jared Leto). That The Little Things fails at such a feeble attempt to subvert post-Se7en crime film conventions shows us the dire state of the industry a year in to a global pandemic. Sure, I’m as starved for quality entertainment as the next film buff but to paraphrase The White Stripes, I’m desperate, but I ain’t that desperate yet.

  • Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance

    Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance

    ★½

    Like a couple YouTubers had carte blanche and went overboard with the stock presets in Adobe After Effects.

  • Seven Samurai

    Seven Samurai

    ★★★★★

    Never noticed Katsushiro’s shame boner before: the grip of Katsushiro’s katana protrudes from his silhouette during the post-coital confrontation between the young samurai’s new lover, Shino (freshly “damaged goods”), and her farmer father, Manzo. To boot, Kurosawa engulfs Shino (in frame) in the roaring flames of a bonfire as Manzo whales on her relentlessly. Just as the flames of their passions (Katsushiro’s shame, Manzo’s wrath, Shino’s despair) are doused with regret, a torrential rain puts out the bonfire as the bandits mount their final assault on the village.

    When it rains, it pours.

  • Mank

    Mank

    ★★

    A remarkably mediocre and unambitious film about the creation of perhaps the most remarkable, stunning, and ambitious film ever made. Mank, with it's woefully inept digital chiaroscuro, makes abundantly clear Fincher's lack of visual finesse; it's a disgrace to Citizen Kane's—and Greg Tolland's—legacy.

  • Ghost Rider

    Ghost Rider

    Like a film made by an alien—all the constituent ingredients of a drama are technically there but none of it is right...the performances, the editing, the musical cues...pretty much the only stuff that works here is what came back from the VFX house, kudos.

  • Jingle Jangle: A Christmas Journey

    Jingle Jangle: A Christmas Journey

    Glad to see Representation Matters for shitty movies too.

  • The Family Stone

    The Family Stone

    ★★½

    An earnest, if flat-footed, family Christmas melodrama for the new Millennium.