“Corporate Animals” falls into the category of one of the worst cinematic offenders of all: the unfunny comedy. This movie is not even mildly amusing nor entertaining, and nothing about it works. It becomes evident just two minutes in, as the clunky opening obviously is meant to be hilarious, but there are zero laughs. I actually felt some secondhand embarrassment for the filmmakers and cast after their dozens of attempts at comedy continued to fall flat.
Horrible boss Lucy (Demi Moore) leads her staff on a corporate team building exercise deep in the deserts of New Mexico. With a useless spelunking guide (Ed Helms) encouraging the polar opposite coworkers (Martha Kelly, Isiah Whitlock Jr., Martha Kelly, Dan Bakkedahl, Calum Worthy, Nasim Pedrad, Jennifer Kim) to take the advanced route underground, they first hesitate but then follow. When a cave-in traps them beneath the surface with no food and little water, the group must work together in order to survive. After the first day, things don’t seem so bad. But after the third, and fourth, and fifth, the coworkers turn on each other and things get savage.
Screenwriter Sam Bain has created thinly written characters that aren’t relatable. Without any depth to them or the story, it’s hard to care about anything that’s happening onscreen. Most of the dialogue feels improvised, which doesn’t help. The film never gets its footing because not only is the script not funny, the premise isn’t either. The cast of talented comedic actors do their best with the material, but there’s only so much they can do. Jessica Williams and Karan Soni unfairly shoulder much of the burden, but even they can’t keep the film afloat.
A big problem with the cast is Moore. She has zero comedic timing, coming across as unnatural and stiff. She’s trying too hard. And Helms has only a few minutes of screen time. Maybe if his character had stuck around longer, this could’ve been a different movie.
The film goes from bad to worse as the days trapped in the cave tick on, with madness slowly setting in. Just when you think the film can’t derail any further, there’s an awful extended hallucination sequence with ugly animation and bloody body parts. And in a desperate attempt to shock and offend, there’s even a tasteless joke that “your boss has been Weinsteining you.” (As expected, this didn’t go over so well with the Sundance audience at the film’s premiere).
I hated everything about this movie. It didn’t even make me chuckle. Ultimately, this whole thing just feels pointless — except for its front-runner status for worst movie of the year.
With a funny women-driven premise and talented comedic cast, everything about the Netflix original film “Wine Country” would seem destined to be a slam dunk. The idea of “Sideways” meets “Bridesmaids” must’ve sounded great on paper, but this blunder of a hybrid version isn’t sincere enough nor raunchy enough to be successful. Directed by and starring Amy Poehler, this story of a scenic Napa wine country getaway to celebrate a friend’s 50th birthday is one of the very worst movies I’ve seen all year. It is a chore to sit through, and I couldn’t wait for it to end.
The friends fit into the same old neat little stereotype boxes that you’ve seen a zillion times before. There’s birthday girl Rebecca who’s trapped in an unhappy marriage (Rachel Dratch), workaholic Catherine (Ana Gasteyer) who stays glued to her cell phone the entire trip instead of letting loose and enjoying life and her friends, cheery Val (Paula Pell) who provides most of the comic relief because she’s not one of the skinny ones, homebody Jenny (Emily Spivey) who is little more than a body to fill in in the background, the type-A uber planner Abby (Poehler), and mom Naomi (Maya Rudolph) who is too afraid to call her doctor to find out the results of her breast cancer test. Learning about the characters in these vague, cookie-cutter descriptions actually provides enough information for you to figure out what happens in the story. It’s that basic.
I can’t stop lamenting what this film could’ve been. Instead of a celebration of decades of friendship and focusing on a group underrepresented on screen, the film takes the laziest route possible and gives us scene after scene of drinking and bickering. The comedic flops are downright agonizing, with a labored gag about cooking paella to the very worst: an extended bit at a millennial art show that I can only guess was included to show how “woke” these women are. There are so many scenes of the gals sitting in a van and singing along to 90s songs that you could walk away from the movie for twenty minutes, come back, and have missed nothing important to the plot. All of this feels like an excuse for Poehler to take her real-life friends along to Napa for a free trip.
The product placement is unintentionally funny here too, with every single bottle of onscreen wine being shown with its label out and facing the camera. (As my fellow vino aficionados can attest, most of the wines they’re drinking are total junk). There are plenty of stale scenes of the ladies sitting around drinking wine, getting “day drunk” at wineries, and bickering about the dumbest things, all under the guise of accepting your age, loving your friends, and questioning your future. Too bad the spiritless character development and flat script are so tedious that nothing advances the story.
As a frequent visitor to Napa Valley, it was disappointing to see the setting mostly ignored. There are a couple of scenes at wineries, but there could be so much more. At least the gorgeous vineyard landscape is presented in intermittent sweeping shots. The worst sin is that the film encourages bad behavior, as the women lack even the most basic wine tasting etiquette. Call me a snob if you must, but these are exactly the type of women and groups that winery workers have a major hostility towards — and so do fellow visitors. If you want to sit around and get drunk rather than take the time to learn about the wine you’re drinking, do it at home.
Glum rather than amusing, most of the intended jokes feel labored, forced, and thoroughly unfunny. It’s so bad that the lack of laughs, especially from a cast like this, is shocking. This should be a trip to wine country that you’d like to be invited to join, a festive, good time with your group of besties, not one where you’re ready to head back home after the first day.
I was close to walking out of “Good Boys,” the raunchy supposed comedy about a trio of twelve year old friends. Trapped in the theater made me restless because it didn’t take long to realize how sloppy, indifferent, unfunny, and charmless the film is. It has such a low energy that anything, even strenuous housework, sounds better than being forced to watch the majority of this film. The only things that saved this movie for me are the fun 80s themed musical number and the thoughtful message about growing up and apart, but both came far too late.
Focusing on raunchy situations rather than inspired gags, the film tells the very loose story of best buddies Max (Jacob Tremblay), Thor (Brady Noon), and Lucas (Keith L. Williams) and their quest to make it to a tween kissing party. A series of dumb misadventures befall them along the way, from destroying an expensive drone to skipping school to stealing illegal drugs to running from two determined older girls (Molly Gordon, Midori Francis), but nothing is interesting enough to carry an entire story. The film isn’t offensive, at least to me, but having kids spew profanity is not an acceptable substitute for humor.
Just when you think a scene is going to be good, like an encounter with an internet pervert or a run-in with a cop at a convenience store, the potentially funny situation is squandered and left laugh-free. It’s apathetic, lazy, and frankly inexcusable when you consider the talent that had a hand in creating this movie.
Even worse is that the characters are little jerks, three boys I had zero interest in. I didn’t care about them, didn’t believe their friendship, and had such a disconnect that I would’ve been just fine not knowing how their story ultimately came to an end. I hate to criticize child actors, but there’s nothing else to call the performances other than dreadful. The overacting and stiff line reading is super distracting, and it truly feels like amateur hour. Maybe these kids will have a future in the film industry, but this will not be one of the better projects to paste in their resume.
My mantra is that nothing is worse than an unfunny comedy, and “Good Boys” is one of the most painful, strained excuses for one that I’ve seen in years. When there are just one or two genuine laugh-worthy moments, you know it’s a colossal dud. The folks both in front of and behind the camera didn’t care enough to work hard at making audiences chuckle so in turn, audiences shouldn’t care enough to shell out good money to watch it.
M. Night Shyamalan has always been a filmmaker who seems a bit too full of himself, a disagreeable trait that manifests through his writing and directing style. This has never been more evident than with his latest pet project “Glass,” a long-winded, thinly-premised, half-baked mess of a movie. It’s a project that could’ve (and should’ve) been a slam dunk but, and it’s rare when this happens, I cannot think of one positive thing to say about this film.
In this supposed grand finale of Shyamalan’s “Unbreakable” and “Split,” villains Elijah Price / Mr. Glass (Samuel L. Jackson) and Kevin Wendell Crumb (James McAvoy), and hero David Dunn (Bruce Willis), are brought together under unusual circumstances, as the trio find themselves in the same mental health facility.
There’s a half-baked subplot about psychiatrist Ellie Staple (Sarah Paulson), the treating physician who specializes in patients who believe they have superhuman powers. She uses science to explain away Dunn’s strength and the myth of Crumb’s violent alter-ego The Beast. But as the film reminds us (as if nobody in the audience has ever heard of a comic book before), there’s always a mastermind with a nefarious conclusion in mind.
The lean story isn’t helped by the clunky dialogue and the phoned-in turns from the cast. The performances are so bad that they’re borderline laughable, with a brooding, half-whispering Willis, and Jackson stuck with no lines for the majority of the movie as his character is in a drug-induced stupor. Anya Taylor-Joy reprises her role from “Split” as abducted girl Casey, giving it her teary-eyed all with weak (and often ridiculous) material.
McAvoy is the only one handed anything to do, but it’s mostly a showy, rapid-fire back and forth with his list of multiple personalities. It’s mildly amusing at first to watch him turn his “horde” on and off with the literal flash of light, but then the repetition made me want to pull out my hair after the third (of many more) identical scenes. The movie comes at you with more of the same, over and over and over, in terms of plot and scene, a fifteen minute idea stretched out over two hours.
Everything about “Glass” is a disappointment. The direction is shoddy, the original score is an eardrum-assaulting lesson in mediocrity, and the draggy snail’s pace of the story is an aggravating endurance test. It’s an unfocused, strangely dumbed-down play-by-play explanation of comic book writing styles, faux sentimental family moments, and some of the very worst visual effects that mostly appear choppy and blurry. Even Shyamalan’s trademark twist ending is a bust here. It’s like he’s both given up and run out of steam.
“Ugly Dolls” is a film that has its heart in the right place, but the execution is disastrous. How ironic that a film intended to celebrate our differences is so bland and poorly animated that it, too, becomes a forgettable face in the crowd. It’s projects like this that ensure audiences and critics will continue to be dismissive towards animated films for years to come.
Here is yet another over-commercialized movie based on uninteresting characters that nobody asked for (this would make an excellent companion piece to the god-awful “Emoji Movie,” which is an equally pointless exercise). Based on the odd looking UglyDolls toy line, the pink and spunky, free-spirited Moxy (Kelly Clarkson) and her misfit friends live in — wait for it — Uglyville. In their little corner of the world, the strange and weird are celebrated, and every day is a happy one. After embarking on a journey beyond the borders of their own village, the band of imperfect dolls comes face to face with perfection and struggle with what it means to be different. (Spoiler alert: they learn they don’t have to be perfect because they are already amazing just as they are).
Look, the film takes a positive anti-bullying stance and preaches self confidence. Those aspects are admirable, and they are important lessons for kids to learn. It’s the derivative plot coupled with an off-putting insincerity that does the film few favors. The story puts forth the bare minimum when it comes to encouraging children to “be yourself” in a generic (albeit slick) package of mixed messages. It looks and feels like a daily affirmation self-help video for “Teletubbies” fans, with characters screeching eloquent gems like “let your freak flag fly” and celebrating having gapped teeth and wearing glasses because “it’s okay to be ugly.”
The studio honchos thought it would be a brilliant idea to hire several famous singers to headline the cast, a move I assume came about only because they’d be belting out original pop songs on the soundtrack. The music in this movie is already terrible, but the voice performances are even worse. Everyone is either grossly miscast (Blake Shelton, Wanda Sykes) or overacting (Nick Jonas, Janelle Monáe) or both (Pitbull, Clarkson). Everything grated on my last nerve and caused my ears prolonged discomfort for 87 unpleasant minutes.
Do not waste your money on a full-priced ticket in the theater and instead save this one for your next two hour road trip. It’s best suited as a mindless babysitter for fussy kids watching dvds on a tiny screen in the back of the minivan.
“Men In Black International” surprisingly starts off strong, but completely falls apart within the first twenty minutes. When the movie is at its best, it feels like a project that would be better suited as a direct to video release. When it’s at its worst, it’s no better than a second rate mockbuster knockoff that you’d find in your local Redbox kiosk.
I place the blame squarely on the shoulders of all involved in this debacle. You can point fingers at the writer, the director, the studio, the editor, and even the actors. It’s the overwhelming lack of effort from the entire group that makes this movie absolutely insufferable. When it is so crystal clear that nobody attached to the film cared much at all, then why should audiences? It’s lazy, it’s dumb, and it’s boring.
The Men (and now, Women) in Black are back to protect the Earth from the scum of the universe. When it’s discovered there may be a mole in the MIB organization, superstar Agent H (Chris Hemsworth) and new recruit Agent M (Tessa Thompson) are hot on the case. With the help of extraterrestrial Pawny (voice of Kumail Nanjiani), they travel the planet to uncover the evildoers and restore the integrity of the top-secret society.
The first part of the movie isn’t totally unwatchable, as there are a few fun (and funny) naughty female-driven jokes that acknowledge the film’s major selling point: the eye candy it provides in the form of Hemsworth. Add another round of applause for the addition of a strong female character that doesn’t seem like a forced effort to be politically correct.
What doesn’t work is the dumb story and the long-winded filler that’s just so draggy. The movie is very dull and slow, so much so that even the action scenes are boring. (The barely adequate CGI effects don’t help).
Once the film lost me, it failed to win me back. It’s too bad because Thompson and Hemsworth make such a great team. Their banter and chemistry both skyrocket off the charts, and the duo work ridiculously well together. They’re funny and charming, and I’m angry how both actors are wasted in a junk film like this. It’s the perfect pairing that’s squandered with the laziness in the filmmaking, an astounding lack of effort that may seal their fate as future stars of the dying franchise. Nobody behind the camera truly seems invested in this movie, and neither will audiences.
“Blinded by the Light” pissed me off so much that I don’t want to listen to Bruce Springsteen ever again.
Yeah, I’m angry.
This monotonous, lazy movie is a textbook example of why you can’t simply pump a film full of beloved pop songs and rely on feel-good nostalgia rather than taking the time to craft a thoughtful screenplay to convey heartfelt emotion. It feels fake, inauthentic, unoriginal, and doesn’t seem to come from a place of sincerity. Perhaps it would’ve worked better as a fantasy.
Set in 1987, teenager Javed (a delightful Viveik Kalra) discovers Bruce Springsteen for the first time and his world is turned upside down. A lover of music and aspiring writer, Javed lives with his two sisters, hardworking mother (Meera Ganatra), and overbearing dad (Kulvinder Ghir). Yearning to escape his hometown and the strict rules of his traditional Pakistani household, the lyrics speak to him with an understanding that no one else seems to have. His 16th birthday wish is to “make loads of money, kiss a girl, and get out of this dump,” and The Boss may inspire him to do just that.
This film takes a sweet idea (that’s based on a true story) and proceeds to beat you over the head with it until you’ll cry out for it to stop. Director Gurinder Chadha treats audiences like they’re stupid, and the real kicker is that viewers willingly sit there and take it. Who falls for this crap? I love music and I love Springsteen, but the majority of my time in the theater was spent with constant eye rolls, face slaps, head shaking, and uncontrollable, inappropriate laughter.
This is coming from a person who loves all genres of music and absolutely understands how art can speak to a person on a much deeper level, as I am often inspired by paintings and prose and films and song. It’s a beautiful sentiment (that’s been done far, far better by others; check out any of John Carney’s films), but here it’s conveyed in the most cheesy way possible. I’ll give you one of the many examples: there’s a scene where Javed’s sister skips school to attend a daytime party so she can “be herself,” telling her brother “when I’m dancing, I block out the world.”
OH MY GOD, MAKE IT STOP!
I suppose I should be thankful that there are several scenes where characters actually speak in song lyrics. Springsteen’s music is great, but here it has magical superpowers that can help kids muster up the courage to stand up to racist bullies and controlling fathers. I’m sure this has happened to many and I’m not arguing against the true force of music to speak to people, but the clichés are hurled fast and furious, like rogue alien forces sent to exploit Earthlings into slopping this junk up with a silver spoon. Whatever overused trope you can imagine, it’s rolled out here. The politically savvy love interest. The authoritarian dad who just doesn’t understand. The supportive war veteran neighbor. The tears-rolling-down-cheeks big finale speech that gosh darn it, makes us all just get along!
Want to talk more about how dumb this movie is? There’s an extended scene of happy people running in slow motion through the streets, singing and dancing along to “Born to Run.” There are more that actually project the song lyrics on the screen, just in case you missed it. This movie is more obvious than the rat in “The Departed” or the feather floating in the wind in “Forrest Gump.”
It’s sad that the film chooses to gloss over the more interesting aspects regarding Pakistani culture and the constant tug of war between the older and younger generation. Much more could’ve been explored by way of and immigrant family’s journey in England and the threat of American culture seeping into traditional ways of life. Instead, the bulk of the movie is spent kissing Bruce Springsteen’s ass. There’s no real story or payoff either, just that some random fanboy finally met his idol.
The charming cast tries their best (admittedly, Kalra gives a delightful, breakout performance), but they are the only bright spots in this steaming pile of manipulative horseshit.
It’s a real shame that “Motherless Brooklyn” lands with a such a resounding thud because I was clinging to the hope that it would finally break the curse of the passion project. It doesn’t. Written and directed by actor Edward Norton, this too-lengthy film is awkward, lifeless, and often downright comical in all the wrong ways. If I had to choose one word to describe this film, it would be ‘pointless.’ I’ll stop short at calling it embarrassing, but the line hovers mere inches away.
Based on the novel by Jonathan Lethem, the mystery film is set against the backdrop of 1950s New York and follows lonely private detective Lionel (Norton) as he tries to solves the murder of his mentor and friend, Frank (Bruce Willis). Lionel lives with Tourette Syndrome, which causes speech and motor ticks which he says stem from all the “threads in my head.” Clues are revealed as he winds his way through the city’s neighborhoods, from underground jazz clubs to the slums of Harlem, facing thugs and corruption every step of the way.
It’s an uninteresting mystery that sputters along, goes nowhere, and is saddled with an unsatisfying conclusion. Both the story and the storytelling flatline, with too much fluff and not enough substance. It’s a movie that’s long-winded and short on content, and will try your patience to extreme limits.
The only entertaining element is the unintentionally laughable performance from Norton, which is so bad it could very well be in contention for a Razzie Award this year. In fact, let’s go ahead and throw in many of the supporting turns too (Willis, Willem Dafoe , Alec Baldwin, Gugu Mbatha-Raw). I’d say that you have to see it to believe it, but I wouldn’t wish for anyone to waste a couple hours watching this movie.
Norton is a perfectly acceptable director and this isn’t a poorly made film (there are some admittedly handsome shots throughout), but overall he tries his hand at noir and fails. Many famous actors want to direct and get their shot at an Oscar for doing so, and this whole thing screams out ‘I was made for awards season!‘ It ticks all the boxes, but it’s just not any good.
I have a message for those hoping that “Last Christmas” is an instant holiday classic: prepare to be disappointed. This unfunny, jumbled, and contrived movie, said to have been inspired by the George Michael song of the same name, is an absolute clunker.
Kate’s (Emilia Clarke) life is a total mess. A series of very bad decisions has landed her without a place to lay her head and a bore of a job as an elf-clad assistant at a year-round Christmas shop in Covent Garden. Her boss (Michelle Yeoh) doesn’t like her, her mom Petra (Emma Thompson) annoys her with constant worrying, and her attorney sister Marta (Lydia Leonard) thinks she’s wasting her life. When handsome Tom (Henry Golding) walks into her life, he seems too good to be true. He’s absolutely perfect, but of course he has plenty of secrets of his own.
Tom is the perfect Manic Pixie Dream Boy and Kate is a girl you want to root for. The two leads have a decent enough chemistry, but Clarke is the real standout. She has a bright future as a rom-com star. She’s delightful and charming, with a lovely comedic timing. What’s so disappointing is that her breezy, charismatic performance is held back by the film’s story and pacing. She deserves a much better vehicle to showcase her talents.
There is no reason for this film to have a Christmas theme or to be set in late December. It’s just a cheap way to sell tickets to a supposed “holiday movie.” The script, penned by Thompson, is dreadful. It lacks focus with too many jumbled subplots rambling all over the place. The disjointed story tries to be too many things at once, including a comedy, a drama, and a romance, and somehow manages to fail at all of them. Even worse, it’s too serious and not very fun — an element that most consider a holiday movie must-have. The film is at its best when it goes for the laughs early on, but quickly turns into a dreadfully slow and boring drama and a ho-hum romance.
Of course Tom has a mysterious secret but once it is revealed, it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, especially in relation to Kate. I can’t say more because it would spoil the surprise, but this is one of those films with a gaping plot hole that raises a ton of new questions instead of answering the ones already presented.
That’s not where the screenplay’s missteps end.
There are forced dramatic situations and strange, inexplicable, liberal-minded story arcs that are forced into the story to fill gaps in the script (including a bizarre Brexit subplot, homosexual relationships and gay rights, and the current hot-button issue of immigration). There’s even an off-putting scene of homeless and disabled people auditing for a talent show that’s played for laughs. It feels so gross.
You’d be better off asking Santa for a lump of coal in your stocking than wasting money on this mess of a movie.
We need to talk about Thor.
Let me back up for a second and explain. I love superhero movies. Marvel is by far my favorite cinematic universe. “Avengers: Infinity War” was on my Top 10 Best Films of the Year list. It pains me to say it, but “Avengers: Endgame” left me so disappointed in its (what I had hoped would be an exciting) conclusion. This sequel is a complete letdown.
From the beginning, everything about this movie feels “off” in terms of tone and attitude. There’s an inordinate amount of moping and glassy-eyed staring into the camera. It’s great that the filmmakers choose to focus more on the human connections between the group, but the emotional character development turns this into a thinking person’s “Avengers” that stresses brains over brawns.
Smart superhero movies are great, but I doubt this is the film’s target audience. Adult themes like remorse, heartbreak, crushing guilt, and making the tough decisions that can ruin your own family while saving others is something that may punch a 40 year old man in the gut but will leave his 8 year old slumped in his seat with his hands on his chin. I feel most of this movie will go over the heads of most kids. Hell, I’ll wager a bet that half the adults in the audience will be confused by the inconsistencies of the varied time travel explanations.
You heard me.
They’re the two most dreaded words in a blockbuster movie that’s written itself into a corner: time travel. Can’t figure out a solid ending? Go the cheap “let’s go back and rewrite history by transporting ourselves through the space / time continuum” route. The film plays with time in a way that is less fanboy fun and more lazy storytelling. It’s so similar to the “Star Trek” reboot and “Back to the Future” that it feels like a cop-out rather than a well thought out solution to the Thanos puzzle. Once again, fan theories that have peppered the internet in the last year prove to be more exciting and interesting than the actual movie.
“Endgame” is entertaining enough, but not what I would call enjoyable. The story is at its best when it jumps around in time and we see how each of the remaining heroes deal with life after the snap, grappling with their colossal failure to save half of the universe. It’s humanity like this that makes us all aware that even superheroes are fallible, and it’s darker territory for what normally would be a lively springtime blockbuster.
The snapped Avengers play very little role in the narrative and the remaining heroes aren’t robust nor charismatic enough to carry the movie (Hawkeye and Black Widow, I’m looking at you). There’s also zero sense of real danger, something that the film’s predecessor had going for it (but at least the menacing Thanos firmly clinches his throne as one of the very best screen villains in comic book movie history here). But what’s truly unforgivable is the decision to make an iconic character an absolute laughing stock and the butt of many jokes. His initial introduction in the film is mildly amusing, but increasingly feels more and more distasteful as it drags on.
Most of the new Marvel clichés make an unwelcome appearance, including the continuous, borderline offensive pandering to women that kicked off in a spectacularly over-the-top fashion in “Captain Marvel.” We get it, House of Mouse: women can be superheroes too! There’s no need to include disingenuous all-female shots of your complete roster of lady characters when they are fighting among men. It’s time to buck up, really show them as equals, and refrain from treating them as a separate movie still that’ll look good on a poster touting the studio’s diversity initiatives come awards season.
There are even more emotionally manipulative “hold for applause” (and “hold for tears”) moments accompanied by soaring music that are dripping with an obnoxious insincerity that quickly sours the whole experience.
It’s not all bad, however. Alan Silvestri’s score is beautiful, and there are some clever plot points that are sure to bring delight (I especially enjoyed the way Ant-Man is brought back into the story). While the majority of the comic relief goes for passive, obvious jokes, there are some unexpected cameos guaranteed to bring smiles to faces. Also enjoyable is how several previous “Avengers” movies are incorporated into the story, providing Easter eggs that will deliver diehard fans the appropriate closure as the arc comes full circle.
The brightest spot here is the cast, all giving performances from the heart. There’s not a dog in the bunch, and this is one of the very best acted MCU films to date. You can tell how important these roles are to the actors, so much so that they literally lend their personal signatures of approval to the closing credits.
Much has been said about the 3 hour plus run time and yes, this movie feels long. There’s too much story exposition at the start, which kicks everything off with a sentimental whimper rather than the bang many will be expecting. The film follows a conventional storytelling timeline, and the couple of obvious, direct rip-offs of “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” did nothing but remind me of the far better movie. It’s as if J.J. Abrams set the new standard of what’s supposed to happen in a big budget studio movie, ensuring that any “surprises” no longer feel that way.
What doesn’t work outweighs the good, making “Endgame” and its anticlimactic ending a real bummer. While this film is disappointing, I need to be fair: it’s something I feel is a direct result of “Infinity War” and its outstanding setup being so great. But even when taken as a standalone film, this sequel proves to be a letdown.