Sentences with phrase «enough love for the film»

Not exact matches

It thinks there's magic in watching a middle - schooler dance with a giant robot, and maybe that's enough for families seeking a film about hope, love and brawling machines.

The non-Rhode Island portion of the film that introduces a sociopathic albino, a profoundly implausible love story and subplot involving a country club (that's not «sub» enough) is wrought with pleas for laughter.

Critic Consensus: A loving and meticulous send - up of 1970s blaxsploitation movies, Black Dynamite is funny enough for the frat house and clever enough for film buffs.

All in all a great movie to watch with many references to the previous films & comics that fans will love & more than enough weight to stand on its own for new comers to the series.

It's an interesting enough trip and admittedly, it was great fun listening to critics discuss their love for not only the movies themselves but writing about them but the film lacks any conviction.

We must also give kudos to Kumail Nanjiani and Emily V. Gordon, who share a writing nomination for «The Big Sick,» a film that hasn't gotten enough awards season love; Kazuhiro Tsuji, who is nominated, for the third time, this year for the «Darkest Hour» makeup; and Agnès Varda and James Ivory who, at 89, are our oldest nominees this year (and the oldest on record), for the documentary «Faces Places» and adapted screenplay of «Call Me by Your Name,» respectively.

This is really Tom Tykwer's (Perfume, Paris I Love You) showcase, and what the film lacks in terms of exciting and novel plotlines, it makes up for with the director's more realistic approach to the action, where the hero can get hurt, characters aren't always living or dying on cue, and one bullet isn't enough to kill every nameless henchman instantly.

He also won the endless love of arty film critics like me, but apparently that's not enough for him, because he's gone back to the rubber - face, mostly.

«Endless Love» is a serviceable enough romantic drama which largely follows the path of Franco Zeffirelli's 1981 film of the same name, though the some aspects have been changed for a more Hollywood ending.

If Candyman is a sociological horror film, it's also a scatological one steeped in shit and piss and, by the end, courageous enough to martyr its martyrs (educated women and defenseless children) and re-imagine its avatar as something more current in modern conversation than a black man murdered for love.

Even The Price of Salt — her second novel, adapted last year, by film director Todd Haynes, as Carol — was more than merely a lesbian love story (certainly a bold enough literary statement for 1952, when it was first published), occupying, in its intense focus on desire and its consequences, similar territory to Highsmith's thrillers about killers.

And I love other Nicholas Ray films, so that's enough for me to be interested in catching this one.

Just a taste of a bigger world (usually in a love match) is enough for the Burton protagonist's fandangos to take flight — for good or for ill, his films are ferociously romantic.

His love for Satine (Nicole Kidman) is enough reason to get sucked into the film, plus the songs are pretty awesome too.

The love story is a bizarre mix of Christian sexual repression and Hollywood navel gazing that's more than enough for the film to handle before Hughes even really enters the plot.

We were lucky enough to have Peter join us at UNIT BAR, where he shared charming, insightful and emotional stories on the topic of our favourite Bogdanovich films, specifically those that are criminally under - seen for various reasons: Saint Jack, The Thing Called Love, Texasville, and Noises Off... He also mentions two new projects in development at the time, including She's Funny That Way (formerly known as Squirrel to the Nuts).

There's a couple genuinely funny parts, but not enough; and while you have to love a sport where drinking is an integral part of the training regimen, at no point in the film does one feel the slightest bit of empathy for the players who are about to lose their jobs... and in a movie with that as the central conflict, that's a problem.

Forbidden love is a decent enough concept for a feature film, but if we're not told why it's happening in the first place, it merely comes off as scandalous for the sake of selling tickets.

Good performances keep the film buoyant, and there are some killings late in the movie that are delivered with impact, enough to garner the meekest of recommendations for genre fans, especially those who love the ones from the 1970s.

My best explanation for this is that the film ultimately found itself betwixt and between: too big to be the kind of arty film that critics love to champion, but not big enough (its domestic box office was almost exactly $ 100 million) to force its way into the conversation, à la Avatar, in a «the people have spoken» fashion.

Spotlight Award: Sicario, for Outstanding Collaborative Vision Lowdown: A welcome honor to a film that hasn't gotten enough real awards season love.

And who knows, maybe this film will find enough fans as a rental, and one day be known and loved enough for someone to call it, «overrated!»

The one thing I can say in its favor is that Amanda Peet (Syriana, A Lot Like Love) is quite good in it, and Dermot Mulroney (The Wedding Date, Must Love Dogs) is more than adequate in his role (that's two films in a row for Mulroney featuring people dying of cancer before they can see their next Christmas — The Family Stone is his other), but even then, they aren't quite enough to elevate the terrible script into something remotely approaching believable or plausible.

Although I loved the original film overall, I was definitely one of the viewers (or «bloody feminists,» to quote director Michael Vaughn) who felt that the now - infamous «joke» at the very end of the film was a letdown after the movies» otherwise awesome representation; and although that scene alone wouldn't have been enough for me to dismiss a sequel outright, Vaughn's mansplaining response to criticism was.