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King Louis XIV has a mermaid kidnapped and brought to an “underground river” in Versailles to be sacrificed during a solar eclipse so that he can become immortal. Mermaid murder? Isn’t that a Dethklok song?

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Lansky must be a case of incipient Alzheimer's disease. How else could Harvey Keitel have forgotten that this movie had already been made a long time ago and a lot better, and that he was in it. Sure, Bugsy was about Ben Siegel (Warren Beatty) and it featured Meyer Lansky (Ben Kingsley), whereas Lansky is about Meyer Lansky (Keitel) and features Ben Siegel (David Cade), but tomato tomahto.

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Things to do to pass the time while watching this movie: enjoy the bucolic Tuscan landscapes (but a documentary on this Italian region would achieve the same effect); wonder how Liam Neeson and his real-life son can have so little chemistry; spot plotholes.

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It has flesh-and-blood actors (and competent ones, too, like Sean Bean, Famke Janssen, Nick Stahl, and Mark Dacascos), but Knights of the Zodiac somehow manages to be more of a cartoon than the mid-to-late 80s anime based on the same intellectual property.

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Older Gods’ title alone is a dead giveaway that the film is going to opt for a sort of lovecraftian brand of cosmic horror. The problem is that writer/director David A. Roberts does Lovecraft by way of August Derleth; in other words, Older Gods is less a lovecraftian pastiche than it is a derlethian bastardization.

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The protagonist's humorless, overbearing, self-aggrandizing stream of consciousness quickly becomes a relentless, deadening hum; the sound of someone who loves to talk just to hear himself speak. He's a bore (i.e., someone who deprives you of solitude without providing you with companionship) who thinks everyone is a bore but him, an irony that’s completely lost on the filmmakers.

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Watching She’s the Man now is to look back on a happier time when Amanda Bynes was crazy hot — as opposed to just plain crazy —, yet not so happy as, say, when Just One of the Guys was released some 20 years prior. Both films are Idiot Plot versions of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, but in the latter at least there was a modicum of frontal nudity.

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The Battle of Hürtgen Forest, which included the titular assault on Hill 400, was the longest battle on German ground during World War II, and the longest single battle the U.S. Army has ever fought. Surely it deserves better than a loafer budget (because it can’t even afford to be shoestring) Asylum clunker.

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A Good Person is a giant qualitative leap for Zach Braff from the steaming pile of unadulterated horseshit that was his directorial/scriptorial debut. I haven’t seen the two movies he made between Garden State and this one, but they must have been enriching experiences, because Braff has clearly matured as a writer and director.

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I’m not sure that The Beanie Bubble is about a plush toy. In fact, I’m not altogether sure that the filmmakers even care about beanie babies at all. They’re just using the rise and fall of Ty Inc. as a thinly veiled MeToo lecture.

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Joy Ride only perpetuates the stereotype that young Asian-American women are obnoxious, foul-mouthed, drug-addled, booze-guzzling, oversexed philistines with no self-awareness or respect for other people’s boundaries.

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Any horror movie/thriller featuring schools and shootings is bound to be offensive because it can’t help focusing on the violence (otherwise it wouldn’t be all that horrific or thrilling, would it?), whilst the best films on that same subject wisely and respectfully prefer to focus on the people. Last the Night also throws the Covid pandemic into the mix, I guess just to add insult to injury.

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Don’t call it a comeback, because this isn’t one by any stretch of the imagination. The good news is that Sympathy for the Devil is not quite the kind of movie that you need to come back from; the bad news is that every time Nicholas Cage takes one step forward, he takes at least two steps back. Based on the evidence at hand, we should all be dreading, rather than anticipating, Nic’s next move.

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The problem with Ladybug & Cat Noir: The Movie is that it lies in a limbo somewhere in between reboot and retcon; that is to say, it doesn’t know what it wants to be. Actually, it’s safe to say that it wants to be a musical, but this doesn’t help its cause at all.
& : The
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Hidden Strike is not unlike many another Jackie Chan movie you may have seen before, this time with John Cena following in the footsteps of Chris Tucker, Owen Wilson, and Johnny Knoxville as Chan’s laidback, wisecracking American sidekick. The only difference is that Cena is fluent in Mandarin, making this Odd Couple less odd than it could have, and perhaps should have, been.
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Raymond & Ray is just like Jeff Nichols’s Shotgun Stories, minus the latter’s poignant urgency. It takes all of McGregor’s and Hawke’s considerable combined gravitas to keep this unfocused, derivative plot from entirely dissolving into the ether.

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This 2021 mini-series is an exhaustive — epic, even — documentary about the most important writer of the 20th century, totaling over five hours in three episodes. It is not a hagiography; director Ken Burns (of Burns Effect fame) takes note of, but doesn’t emulate, Ernest Hemingway's tendency to self-mythologize.

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I was hoping against hope that the new Hellraiser would receive the same treatment as the new Candyman and the new Scream, only to see it get the all-girl Ghostbusters treatment instead. I can see that the filmmakers had good intentions, but good intentions will drag you straight to hell faster than the Cenobites’ hooks and chains.

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Dying seems to be the only thing for which there is no time in this unreasonably long movie. The inclusion in the end of a Jack London quote turns out to be unwittingly ironic: “I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.” Director Cary Joji Fukunaga uses and abuses his time, for no apparent purpose other than to prolong the film as much as humanly possible.

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Here’s an action movie where the difference between success and failure, between victory and defeat, ultimately lies in the ability, or lack thereof, to avoid being sodomized.

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JP

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