Ayer hasn’t made a great WWII film, but aspects of it certainly are, and even with a handful of misgivings Fury is one ride onto the battlefield I can’t wait to sit shotgun on for a second time relatively soon.
Dracula Untold is as pointless as it is somewhat surprisingly bloodless, the heart beating at the center of this effort as cold and as lifeless as the central ‘hero’ around which everything revolves.
Not so much a disaster as it is a waste of time, one doesn’t need a jury’s declaration to know The Judge should have been sent to the gallows long before it ever went into production in the first place.
Yet it is that climax which truly sinks this prequel, Annabelle in the end only conjuring up my anger and vitriol that it would do something so horrifically stupid and think that would be okay.
Gone Girl is a movie aching to be seen, savored, discussed and debated, Fincher assembling a motion picture so of-the-moment the effect is so startling it’s practically a mirror reflecting truths we don’t want to think about back at us whether we want it to or not.
The Boxtrolls is a divine, intoxicating fantasy, and in the end is a first-rate marvel of originality and inspiration.
This iteration of The Equalizer losing too much steam and not maintaining strong enough focus to make all the sound and fury mean near as much as I wanted it to.
The infuriating thing about The Damned is that it comes agonizingly close to being a good horror yarn.
Tracks kept me at arm’s length, never allowed me to embrace any facet in ways that were entirely satisfying.