For 3,750 reviews, this publication has graded:
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46% higher than the average critic
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3% same as the average critic
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51% lower than the average critic
On average, this publication grades 8.9 points lower than other critics.
(0-100 point scale)
Average Movie review score: 56
| Highest review score: | A Bread Factory Part Two: Walk With Me a While | |
|---|---|---|
| Lowest review score: | Deuces Wild |
Score distribution:
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Positive: 1,540 out of 3750
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Mixed: 1,542 out of 3750
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Negative: 668 out of 3750
3750
movie
reviews
- By Date
- By Critic Score
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Reviewed by
Chuck Wilson
Proteus carries an air of forced-wit experimentation that never quite gets its anachronisms in order -- this 18th-century tale features a Jeep, a radio, and female court reporters with typewriters and bouffant hairdos.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ella Taylor
The movie’s glib trafficking in illness, death and pinched little faces to jury-rig our emotional responses (Gibb was inspired by the equally likable, equally pandering Czech film "Kolya") lost me at hello.- L.A. Weekly
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Even the promising team of Peter Dinklage’s mad scientist Simon Barsinister and Patrick Warburton’s henchman Cad turns out to be a bust.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Scott Foundas
After a lively first half-hour, the scenes start to feel heavy, as though Serrano suddenly decided he was actually making a meaningful drama, and the ensuing, halfhearted political satire is like an extra weight on top of that.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ella Taylor
Something there is about the '60s that undoes the most intelligent of filmmakers.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ella Taylor
Too sensitive for this world or any other, this stifling portrait of a family stuck in bereavement offers the painful sight of at least two highly accomplished actors frozen for lack of direction from novice writer-director Josh Sternfeld.- L.A. Weekly
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- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Chuck Wilson
At only 84 minutes, Phone Booth's brevity turns out to be its only saving grace.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
F. X. Feeney
The barometer of the film's undoing is Burns' super-low-key performance, which starts out as a pokerfaced spoof on heroic cool, but takes a misstep more fatal than mere time travel can undo.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Chuck Wilson
The director pulls back from the hotel, placing it against the skyline of our beautiful city, which appears to be waiting, patiently, for a more original exploration of its inhabitants.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ella Taylor
Remember the Daze has the irony-free, instant-nostalgia earnestness of your high school yearbook, but watching it is not likely to conjure your own youthful emotions -- it’s more like flipping through the generic memories of a complete stranger.- L.A. Weekly
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Tries a bit too hard to give off the impression of experience, and consequently, the film's explicit dialogue and pseudonaughty tone result in mostly shallow, giggly humor that rarely delves into the kinkiness and hang-ups that make sex a topic both obsessed over and rarely discussed.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ernest Hardy
What really sink the film are the script's reductive, outdated psychological implications (molestation leads to queerness/transsexualism) and its clumsy melodramatics.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Paul Malcolm
The film at times feels less than objective, in part due to Douglas' often breathless narration.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ella Taylor
Raising Helen is the kind of movie you watch on a plane while muttering “utter crap” under your breath -- and then burst into tears.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Hazel-Dawn Dumpert
If there's any reason to watch this otherwise inept romance, it's to witness the late Nell Carter nail a Louis Jordan tune, and to see master comic Jonathan Winters downplay his more manic tendencies and effortlessly spin gold from straw.- L.A. Weekly
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- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
John Patterson
Even more problematic is the script's clumsy, sprawling architecture, Sheridan's clubfooted sense of pacing and his grubby, indistinct visuals. The only upside? The Chieftains aren't on the soundtrack.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Hazel-Dawn Dumpert
In lieu of developing a plot, the brothers opt to cram their cache of forced quirks and hit-or-miss sketches into a framework of predictabilities.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
John Powers
The movie's one unalloyed pleasure is a funny Goth Girl, played by Melissa McCarthy, who grasps, as Parker apparently doesn't, that the script is energetic rubbish, not The Greatest Story Ever Told.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Alan Scherstuhl
While sometimes messy, this material is emotionally resonant and cinematically alive.- L.A. Weekly
- Posted Sep 20, 2018
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Reviewed by
Ernest Hardy
Intermittently amusing, rarely illuminating and ultimately tedious documentary.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ella Taylor
My own view is that, like me, the LAPD was defeated by the movie's incestuously proliferating plots. I've seen Dark Blue twice, and I still don't have a handle on all its comings and goings.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ella Taylor
Under Peter Hewitt's phoned-in direction, Garfield chugs along like the slow train to Chattanooga, with only Jennifer Love Hewitt, as the local vet, twittering pertly in a desperate effort to raise Jon's feeble pulse.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Paul Malcolm
Though the two-hour film can go slack with excess explication, Shiri compensates with an overheated drive that forces the myopia of current events toward a broader field of vision.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Paul Malcolm
Unfortunately, it's our knowledge of what's actually to come that puts much of the chill and complexity in Hopkins' rather formulaic script.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Mark Olsen
Tamara simply doesn't cover all the bases in its drive to be both a grubby teen splatter flick and a more high-minded thriller.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
John Powers
The story itself falls to earth with a thud, not least because of a casting catastrophe. The boyish, goofily smiling Wahlberg is egregiously out of place as the kind of charming-ambiguous dreamboat you'd have to be Cary Grant to pull off.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ella Taylor
The question is not how bad this excuse for a domestic comedy is (medium cringe), but how the gifted Fred Schepisi got suckered into directing a vanity project.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Jon Strickland
The film is naive in its glorification of violence and vengeance.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Manohla Dargis
This upscale Harlequin fantasy film works much the same terrain as Douglas Sirk's All That Heaven Allows, a '50s weepy about an affair between an older woman and a younger man, though without an iota of its wit or intelligence.- L.A. Weekly
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You could make a case that any movie in which Mexicans and rednecks become best of friends is a net positive for society. But to do that, you'd have to ignore the severe boredom that sets in about halfway through this comedy.- L.A. Weekly
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In the age of creationism, a sympathetic mix of science and religion sounds like a promising premise. But in this genre-blending cocktail of drama, documentary and computer-graphic animation, quantum physics is so subordinated to the service of an anything-goes mysticism that little remains of the science except the terminology.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ella Taylor
Mired in noir cliché, the movie manages to be simultaneously overwrought and undercooked, with the Bambi-eyed Akhtar giving such a relentlessly inscrutable performance, one wants to poke him with a stick.- L.A. Weekly
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- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ella Taylor
Might have something interesting to say about cultural ambivalence by and toward the maternal impulse if only it had a spark of originality or verve.- L.A. Weekly
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This glorified infomercial glosses over the underlying tension of a young man's introduction into a society whose materialistic, capitalist tendencies are diametrically opposed to his country's values.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Scott Foundas
It's not that Noya is bad as kid actors go, but a pair of dewy, crossed eyes and a beyond-his-years melancholy do not an entire movie make.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Chuck Wilson
A film where everyone -- white, black, gay or otherwise -- is equally, lovably dumb.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Manohla Dargis
While the length and ridiculous finale are a drag, the only thing that stinks about Sphere is its pervasive boys-club snarkiness, especially since Stone is actually good. Levinson has always been a better director of men, but it would be nice if Attanasio could learn how to write a role for a woman that wasn't an embarrassment as well as an insult.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
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- L.A. Weekly
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- Critic Score
Scott's lack of faith in the script is all too evident -- in most scenes, the lines are so dull, he has to up the ante of his already-infamous attention-deficit style.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ella Taylor
Too long, too slow, too self-consciously chatty and too much at the mercy of a slim premise that doesn't wear well under endless repetition.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Scott Foundas
The dancing is dazzling in director Emilio Martínez-Lázaro's The Other Side of the Bed, but the movie itself is a dud.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Chuck Wilson
Coury has made a technically polished first film, but her sense of comic timing and sexual politics is strictly borscht belt.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Paul Malcolm
A Rumor of Angels beats its wings furiously, only to sink back into spiritualist goo.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ernest Hardy
It could have been a hoot in a bad-movie way if the laborious pacing and endless exposition had been tightened. As it is, only LaSalle's sizzling performance makes Crazy more than a by-the-numbers psycho-horror thriller.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Tatiana Craine
Despite valiant effort from the performers — especially Usher, who's onscreen for nearly every scene — this three-hander is no joyride.- L.A. Weekly
- Posted Oct 4, 2018
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- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Craig D. Lindsey
Knuckleball mostly fills up its running time by being a twisted, even more ridiculous Home Alone.- L.A. Weekly
- Posted Oct 4, 2018
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Reviewed by
Ella Taylor
Cliché, or experiment with cliché? Really, it’s not worth sticking around to find out, since the action mostly involves the monotonous Romain Duris standing around in his underpants or sitting on the toilet banging on about why love has fled.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ella Taylor
This suffocatingly pleasant cross between "Sliding Doors" and "Six Degrees of Separation" is barely rescued by one beautiful scene.- L.A. Weekly
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Perhaps the best compliment that can be paid to Hunter Richards' directorial debut is that it nearly manages to make some of the most irritatingly shallow human beings on Earth seem tragic.- L.A. Weekly
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- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Paul Malcolm
Salva falls back on dull, jumbled action and an awkward subplot as he lurches toward a sequel.- L.A. Weekly
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The Open Road isn’t an unwatchable howler -- instead, writer-director Michael Meredith’s film is merely dull and obvious.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ella Taylor
The setup and execution of this quietly histrionic tale of the distorting power of thwarted love are so patently ridiculous that the urge to laugh gets in the way.- L.A. Weekly
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Manohla Dargis
The most pleasure to be had from this high-tech bore is to compare the Disney world-view evidenced here (the triumph of collectivism) with that of DreamWorks’ own creepy-crawler animation, “Antz” (the triumph of individualism).- L.A. Weekly
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- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ella Taylor
A stripling of 24, Tierney has a very young man's immature passion for unrelieved misery, which borders at times on the tedious, at others on the downright comical.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Hazel-Dawn Dumpert
While Gardos knows what to ask -- and though Kinski and Johansson both easily command attention -- the filmmaker lacks the storytelling sophistication to answer with anything but prettily rendered cliches.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Scott Foundas
Reverts to a fire-sale slapstick scenario that includes multiple tumbles into toilets/sewers/ dumpsters; a visit to a Harlem beauty shop that's all homily-spouting mammies and swishy, finger-snapping dandies; and the attempted inducement of a constipated dog's bowel movement.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Robert Abele
Burt Reynolds, whose near-vaudevillian comic timing, is refreshing but not enough to carry the picture.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
David Chute
The film's snazzy new automated animation style falls short: The supposedly human face of our metal-plated robocop's partner -- the inevitable curvy female in a leather jump suit -- is an inexpressive, glossy doll mask, untouched by human hands.- L.A. Weekly
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Drags through one tough-love moment after another without much energy or originality from its single-monikered star.- L.A. Weekly
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Failing in its attempts at Zhang Yimou–like poetry, Azumi calls to mind a long, blood-splattered director's cut of a Power Rangers episode.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ernest Hardy
What really hamstrings Sinner, though, is the hetero narcissism beneath its enlightened posturing.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Scott Foundas
Infernally boring for much of its running time, and then, just as the pulse starts to quicken: To be continued.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
John Powers
Spacey is nobody's idea of a goodhearted innocent, and I wonder why nobody has told him he'll blow his career if he keeps trying to pass himself off as Mr. Sensitive. It's time to go back to playing assholes. That's what he's good at, and that's why we love him.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ernest Hardy
The result is at once a woefully overfamiliar bashing of Hollywood superficiality and a seemingly unwitting paean to the self-absorbed enlightenment that passes among industry folk for personal growth.- L.A. Weekly
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From tepid start to laughable middle to thudding finish (and the final two minutes smack of a reshoot), it's nothing but a herky-jerky clusterfuck of noise and nonsense.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Scott Foundas
The dance sequences might have saved it, were it not for the fact that director Guy Ferland seems to have learned everything he knows about (over) shooting and (blindly) cutting such scenes from watching "Moulin Rouge" and "Chicago."- L.A. Weekly
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It isn't really a documentary about the porn industry but rather a documentary about the making of a coffee-table book containing posed photos of porn stars, fans and moguls. Director Michael Grecco is also the photographer making the book, so perhaps "infomercial" would be a more accurate description.- L.A. Weekly
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For a movie that preaches cultural understanding, it sometimes seems a little too comfortable perpetuating ethnic stereotypes.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Scott Foundas
Cold Creek Manor's prime reason for being seems to be a set piece involving poisonous snakes, directed by Figgis with a drunken gusto the rest of the film could use, and as a comeback vehicle for Stone, who tries hard at motherly warmth, but can't quite wash the Catherine Tramell out of her hair.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Scott Foundas
Touch of Pink is really a big glob of "The Wedding Banquet," with some "Will & Grace" mixed in to remind us that gay people are actually quaintly neurotic and funny once you get to know them.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Kim Morgan
A story that's so ridiculous you'll at least be entertained by the outrageous plot contortions to come.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Chuck Wilson
A twisted black comedy -- The accomplished ensemble meshes nicely, but the actors all look pale and exhausted, an effect that may be a byproduct of the film’s photography, which is terrible.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Alan Scherstuhl
Double-stuffed with kill squads, killer ’80s couture and mood-killing howlers, Fernando Leon de Aranoa’s Loving Pablo is more a greatest hits than a story, the kind of radically compressed life-of-a-legend movie where everything happens in a giddy, ridiculous gush — except for when it slows down to dwell on horrors.- L.A. Weekly
- Posted Oct 4, 2018
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Scott Foundas
Too often, though, Jakubowicz falls back on his relentlessly pirouetting DV camera, attention-deficient editing and ear-splitting sound effects as a substitute for real tension, or a more piercing inquiry into the bubbling tension between South America's haves and its poverty-stricken have-nots.- L.A. Weekly
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The two disparate yet thematically linked storylines are far too faithfully transposed for a feature-length treatment -- crammed together, they're denied the space to flesh out as a cohesive whole.- L.A. Weekly
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Isn't a bad film, but as we watch it we're constantly rewriting it in our minds to make it a better one.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Chuck Wilson
Rosman and Wendkos run dry of ideas in the film's inert, overextended finale, when the "Believe in yourself" speeches grow so thick that even the Duff-devoted may start rolling their eyes.- L.A. Weekly
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Manohla Dargis
Burns, who made a career out of his mildly charming Irish-American rogue persona, has, with his latest and fourth feature, finally sloughed off the remaining traces of that charm, along with, apparently, the vestiges of a personality.- L.A. Weekly
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Perfunctorily shot and edited, the project hinges only on Rutledge-Taylor's findings, which begin to raise eyebrows once pragmatic activism is thrown out the window in favor of the blame game.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Ernest Hardy
Has one thing to recommend it, but even that will likely appeal to a small subset of filmgoers: the cult of Brendan Sexton III.- L.A. Weekly
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- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Hazel-Dawn Dumpert
Voice-overs and commentaries are piled on top of contrived intimate moments until, despite some easygoing performances, the movie -- the actual movie -- is a blur of undercooked motivations and halfhearted improv.- L.A. Weekly
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Ernest Hardy
Mangold can't escape the fact that instead of someone in the throes of a genuine existential crisis, his star comes off as -- to paraphrase nurse Whoopi Goldberg -- a spoiled, lazy girl who's afraid to face life.- L.A. Weekly
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The main drawback is Claudio Chea's vertiginous camera work -- and the print's continual alternations between black-and-white and color add nothing but a distracting ornamentation.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Manohla Dargis
In its exploitation of human misery, Monster's Ball doesn't just invite cynicism; it provokes hostility.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Scott Foundas
The movie is leaden and self-serious, with an unusually hollow performance from Norton, who's not for a moment convincing as a man of raging passion. Far better is Paul Giamatti.- L.A. Weekly
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Predictable and overly busy, this sci-fi adventure should nonetheless appeal to computer-game-savvy tots, especially those familiar with the source material, while boring their parents silly.- L.A. Weekly
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Ernest Hardy
Ultimately, Psycho...can't overcome the redundancy of parodying a genre that long ago sank into its own satiric muck.- L.A. Weekly
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Reviewed by
Manohla Dargis
The less ticklish bad joke of Scream 2 is that self-referentiality has its limits.- L.A. Weekly
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Scott Foundas
This Thing of Ours is infatuated with the romance of gangsterism -- with an absurdly straight face, it asks us to feel mournful for the loss of “respect” and “integrity” in the mob community.- L.A. Weekly
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Ernest Hardy
The tedium of the situation is felt by the audience, but too often in the wrong way: We don't empathize so much as suffer through the movie.- L.A. Weekly
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Scott Foundas
Those viewers who found anti-Semitism lurking under every stone in The Passion of the Christ may rejoice in this celebration of Jewish heroism; all others should rest assured that falling asleep in the cinema is not a mortal sin.- L.A. Weekly
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The military eventually shows up to nuke the joint (L.A., incidentally), but there's no urgency, suspense or charm with all that back-row rattle.- L.A. Weekly
- Posted Nov 17, 2010
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The cars and stunt work are real, and so is the rather endearing retro cheesiness. This is the movie that really belongs with Quentin Tarantino's "Death Proof."- L.A. Weekly
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