Its pantomime villains aside, this is a film about men who are doing their best to serve God.
The film is most interesting when observing the subtler power dynamics at play within frats.
The answers the series doles out are a lot less interesting than the questions.
The miniseries boasts the same relentless energy as Gael García Bernal’s eponymous boxer.
It quickly becomes clear that Greg Jardin’s film isn’t just here to dazzle us with visual trickery.
The particulars of time travel in the film give the whole thing a tactile quality.
The eponymous character’s air of mystery quickly fades across the show’s eight episodes.
It retreads ideas familiar from time-loop stories without offering anything especially new.
The series delights in both concealing and revealing its secrets.
The series uses a criminal case from 50 years ago to explore a critical moment in U.S. history.
Most of the show’s mythological aspects are rendered in uninspired terms.
The continued cutaways back to Earth effectively de-pressurize Slingshot’s main plotline.
For better and worse, you can tell that The Wasp was initially written for the stage.
The film somehow shows its hand too early and plays its cards too close to its chest.
The way Nora Fingscheidt captures two modes of life is one of the film’s greatest strengths.
This cunningly devised thriller wields our assumptions against us like a sharp implement.
In Constance Tsang’s feature-length directorial debut, silence speaks volumes.
The film seems content to merely adapt the “Personal Life” section of Beckett’s Wikipedia page.
Like a well-executed heist, the film knows how to get in and get out with minimal fuss.
The series concocts a hard-edged crime tale within the boundaries of a kid-friendly show.