This is, without question, the most artistic homage to dog shit ever filmed.
Author Rich Heimlich
I love movies, tech, politics, games and more. I've been writing professionally since 1985 and, thankfully, have worked with some of the best editors in the business. I never planned to be a writer. It just kept happening. I always tell people I don't believe in fate but that fate seems intent on believing in me. I'm also a proud member of the Philadelphia Film Critics Circle.
It’s exactly the film that May and Taylor wanted, and it’s a complete bore.
An endless parade of clichés and logic issues that ruin an otherwise potentially interesting plot.
Attempts to walk a very fine line between campy and creepy, between reality and dystopia.
Two-and-a-half hours of nonsensical jibber-jabber interspersed with adrenaline-inducing special effects.
It’s too long where it should be shorter and too short where it should be longer.
It holds the tension with the empathy and effectiveness of a large metal vise.
An experience every bit as chaotic as the exploding island of Isla Nublar.
Foster sports the look of a no-frills grandmother with a deadpan gaze that could stop a bullet.
This is one flat Ocean. That might make for smooth sailing, but not so smooth for a film.