One of the biggest drawbacks to adapting a series of books for the big screen, especially with the obligatory splitting of the final novel into two movies, is the lack of closure.
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Bored. Just bored.
Bolivian politics? Indigenous peoples? The International Monetary Fund?
It’s more than a biopic, and it isn’t just a movie.
Children tearfully watch filmstrips about how their best chance to survive a nuclear attack is to “duck and cover.” James Donovan (Tom Hanks) looks on in horror as Berliners are gunned down trying to clamber over the newly constructed wall. At one point, shots are fired into his New York home.
It’s a little-known fact of film criticism: Saturday morning screenings are almost universally awful.
Hollywood wastes billions of dollars each year trying to figure out how to entertain moviegoers.
Well, at least they don’t sleep together.
You wouldn’t expect cable and streaming services, two relatively new enterprises, to adhere to something as archaic as the fall TV season, a practice begun more than 60 years ago to help sell new cars.
To the surprise of almost no one, M. Night Shyamalan has made 80, maybe 85 percent of an entertaining movie.
Martin Luther King Jr. Day weekend unleashed the megahit “American Sniper” on multiplexes, along with major studio releases “Blackhat” and “The Wedding Ringer.”
You know you’ve aged out of the target demographic for “We Are Your Friends” when during the triumphant pool party to christen the house up-and-coming DJ Cole Carter (Zac Efron) rents with his buddies — a blowout complete with booze and drugs, thumping music and topless girls — all you can think about are their poor neighbors and whether those homeowners will have some sort of recourse through their HOA.
Think of him as Bong. James Bong.
Every sensible executive in Hollywood should have laughed Guy Ritchie out of the room.
Poor Emma Stone.
Eight bits isn’t just the style of the video games celebrated in “Pixels”; it’s also roughly how much you should pay to see it.
Pet costumes. Anything that’s ever been labeled “as seen on TV.” That Carl’s Jr. burger that comes with a hot dog and potato chips on it.
As a movie, the nearly two hours of gyrating man candy known as “Magic Mike XXL” is awful. Atrocious even.
You can almost hear Seth MacFarlane trying to grow as a filmmaker during “Ted 2” — and not just because of the almost uncomfortable periods of audience silence that greeted sections of the sequel.
Not everyone could dream up a pink elephant with a cat’s tail and some dolphin parts who’s mostly made of cotton candy and whose tears take the form of sugary treats.
While nothing short of one of those “Men in Black” neuralyzers will make you forget the profound disappointments of the first two sequels, “Jurassic World” combines enough nostalgia, technical wizardry and nonsensically thrilling moments to make fans of the original feel like kids again.
Time hasn’t been kind to many of the Beach Boys’ early hits.
“San Andreas” is every bit as big, loud and ridiculous as anything you’ll see during this or any other summer. But what sets this bonkers earthquake extravaganza apart from similar bits of brain-dead escapism is the fact that its “hero” is extraordinarily selfish at best. At worst, he’s criminally negligent.
As movies loosely based on Disneyland attractions go, “Tomorrowland” is a far cry from the rollicking heights of the original “Pirates of the Caribbean.” Still, it’s worlds better than “The Haunted Mansion” and “The Country Bears.”
Odds are, when you hear the words “Mad Max,” you picture roving bands of psychopaths terrorizing the postapocalyptic hellscape in their souped-up war machines.
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