This is, without question, the most artistic homage to dog shit ever filmed.
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.
It holds the tension with the empathy and effectiveness of a large metal vise.
Foster sports the look of a no-frills grandmother with a deadpan gaze that could stop a bullet.
Sadly only inherits the bad habits of the worst M. Night Shyamalan films.
A film bursting with potential that slowly deflates like an overfilled balloon.
Delivers the goods as an irreverently hilarious and literally side-splitting comedy.
Reitman taps into the same invigorating emotional reservoir as his brilliant 2007 film Juno.
A slow burn of political chess across a white-hot board where every move comes from the shadows.
A farcical mixed bag that will work for some and land with a dull thud for others.