Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters is instantly forgettable, and while the worlds of gods and demigods is relatively different than that of wizards, warlocks, talking lions, wardrobes to different dimensions, dwarves, hobbits and dragons, it’s not so much so to make all that great a difference.
The script has issues, way too many of them, and it isn’t like the great stuff is so good as to make up for the bits and baubles that fall short (way, way short). We’re the Millers just isn’t a disaster, and considering how badly it treats two of its main characters and the ways that it seems to be making itself up as it goes along this in and of itself is a trait almost worth celebrating. Almost.
Would I watch 2 Guns again? Maybe, when it shows up on Cable and I’m folding laundry, this thin piece of comic book inspired hokum might fit the bill perfectly.
The reason to see Blue Jasmine, however, and why it will be garnering Oscar talk come next February (and while it’s certain a Best Actress nomination is guaranteed), has everything to do with Blanchett and Blanchett alone.
Fruitvale Station will undoubtedly be seen in context of current events, and in many ways that’s both to be expected as well as perfectly fine. But on its own, as a stand-alone release depicting a tragic true story with candor, grace and realism, Coogler’s movie makes as indelible an impact as anything I’m likely to see in all of 2013.
The To Do List isn’t a great comedy, but it is a very, very good one, and as far as 2013 goes it’s on my personal list of movies I can’t wait to see again.
They keep things intimate, personal and close to the vest, events revolving around Logan’s battles with his inner demons above all else. The Wolverine isn’t interested in the big or the audacious, instead choosing to turn inward whenever it can, in essence making it one of the more anachronistic Marvel superhero epics to grace the multiplex up to now.
Made with style, imagination, confidence and panache, [The Conjuring (2013)] gets under the skin right away and then stays there for the remainder of its innervating 112 minutes, building to a solidly sinister and unsettling finale that had the audience I watched it with on collectively disquieted pins and needles.
Directed with whimsically audacious precision by Jon Wright (Tormented), featuring a crackerjack, and surprisingly intelligent, script by newcomer Kevin Lehane, the movie is a stupendously entertaining hoot start to finish, and by the time it was over all I wanted to do was start the darn thing over from the beginning and watch it again.