It manages to update the genre while still giving those starved of seeing it on the big screen something familiar to savor.
Love and Thunder is, quite simply, a mess.
It’s still an overstuffed show, but in building up the relationships audiences truly care about, season 3’s existential musings become time well spent.
A masterpiece? No. A Céline Dion biopic? Sort of. A vision you could never anticipate and may never see again? Completely.
A perfectly fine little film with engaging characters, parent-appealing cultural throwbacks, and the familiar message to embracing yourself.
There’s a sweet, charming rom-com in there, but it’s constantly being put on hold by its own incessant flitting.
Their Tammy Faye is a caricature masquerading as a real person. The assertion that they find out who she really is, or even present a twisted, subjective version, is nothing but a beautiful lie.
Jungle Cruise is not the artistically devoid offering you may have feared, but it’s not stretching itself to be anything too great, either. Instead, it settles for being a lark, and its winning cast nails the frivolous good time it aims to be.
Betty is a disrupter. A disrupter of expectations, of stereotypes, of procedure. It says forget six seasons and a movie, we’re going to make a movie and then some television. It says forget your straight, white, male world, we’re going to follow a bunch of young women, some queer and not all white. It says forget plot, just vibe.
While not hitting the high marks of the best live-action Disney movies, Cruella succeeds because it abandons the sketch we had of the deliciously reviled character and strikes out on its own.