Letterboxd — Your life in film

It has some funny moments, and Ferrell and Wahlberg make a decent comedic duo, but the plot is rather lackluster, and the humor is hit and miss.

I like how the film doesn’t always resort to CGI when many others would in the same position, and the ending is a nice subversion of expectations, but this certainly is no Gremlins when it comes to both laughs and frights, and it isn’t a good sign when you end up rooting for the villain over the main characters.

The occasional soapiness, shallow characterization of the colonialists, mechanical progression of the plot that sometimes relies on contrived conflicts, and premature peak in excitement failed to meet my standard for what I deem a bonafide masterpiece, but the story at least is well-structured and has good messages, not a moment is wasted in its epic runtime, the action is at times baffling and insane, and the two leads are both full of irresistible charisma and impressive vigor and virtuosity, so RRR still fits the bill for a fun cinematic experience.

Woody Allen offers an another absorbing drama with his expectedly captivating dialogue and human characters while exploring this time how shitty men exist at every corner, and Cate Blanchett delivers one of the finest performances of her career.

Working as both a love letter to the Golden Age of Hollywood and as a critique of the tyrannical entertainment industry, Hail, Caesar! is a diverting satire that shines thanks to its splendiferous visuals, star-studded cast, entrancing musical numbers, amusing caricatures, and witty dialogue but falls short of reaching the brilliance of some of the Coens’ previous comedic efforts.

Another entry into the eat the rich subgenre is this fun satiric thriller in which the rich, this time, eat, and it offers not just a fine dining experience full of twists, shocks, symbolism, dark humor, and good food, but also good food for thought—with a biting social commentary that shows the ruthlessness of the service industry while stabbing at each of its reprehensible guests in unique ways.

Art is back for more comical, sadistic carnage; the gory violence is notched up to some of the gnarliest and most savage to hit the silver screen; and we have another heroine that manages to earn the title of the final girl this time, but the film is paced to hell, especially with one dream sequence that seems to go on forever, and the plot is quite repetitive with its endless succession of drawn-out murder scenes.

I do wish it was presented less like a feature length movie trailer and told Elvis’ tragic life story with more nuance and sensitivity, but it does move quite swiftly with such glamor and verve and is elevated by a flawless, star-making turn by Austin Butler.

Showcasing the beautiful scenery and desolation of its Irish setting while buoyed by a bulletproof cast, The Banshees of Inisherin is unfortunately far less compelling, witty, and funny than McDonagh’s previous efforts and doesn’t have much to offer from an emotional standpoint aside from being feckin’ depressing.

Yeah, characters act unbelievably stupid at times, and certain things don’t make a whole lot of sense, but Barbarian constantly reinvents itself in a way that’s interesting, and it is incredibly refreshing to see a mainstream horror picture this entertaining, suspenseful, unpredictable, and downright creepy amid all the vapid, unoriginal garbage we’re used to.

A seminal and iconic work of horror that Craven clearly borrowed from when he went on to make Scream over a decade later, and although that film may be more enjoyable and inspiring of a cult following, A Nightmare on Elm Street still stands the test of time with its grisly violence, creepy villain, and admirable audacity.

Even if it is carried with great gusto and élan and is entertaining enough to pass the time, Bullet Train is ultimately a shoehorned collection of things we’ve already seen, albeit with cleverly staged fight sequences and Brad Pitt as The Dude but if he were an assassin, while riding on a plot that drags things on past the point where I stopped caring about what was happening.