Cevin Kookman’s review published on Letterboxd:
"Ok... It's deep-fake time."
first ever money-laundering tentpole to take place in a COD map pack; milk Netflix for a couple hundred million and the final product can't even match up to a 2006 Machinima, but it'll... I guess... Look just as good? total, affectless brick, but not quite broken enough for you to be outraged if your parents said they had a decent time watching this on a wednesday night while on their phones.
streamer blockbusters are facsimiles of real movies, tech demos to make the consumer believe their monthly fee is poured into a collective pool that unlocks a free-toy-in-your-cereal-box summer movie while merely presenting the mirage of value for your dollar: this is, what, their fortieth in the last 12 months? the MILF from the IDF electrocutes The Rock's penis while singing "Downtown".... Ryan Reynolds follows in his father's footsteps of seeking out the plunder of Nazi treasures. Entire final set-piece relies on MP-40s, Hitler's Mercedes, and Stielhandgranates saving the day, in the same movie that gets a joke off about a Russian soldier's IG feed being just shirtless pics of Putin lmfao. moments of otherwise gleeful perversity sort of read as genuinely unnerving when the suits do them.