A film that's as forgettable as its title, with the poster perfectly summing up the movie: hollow and flashy, relying completely on the starpower, half of which half ass through their scenes. Imagine wasting Aubrey Plaza by:
1. Making her a cringey goofball.
2. Having her crack terrible sex jokes.
3. HER DIALOGUE AAAAAAAAAAAAA!
There's exactly one scene which felt well acted and interesting, and even that gets parodied during the credits diluting its effect.
Just no.
[Film #800!]
This is what perfect harmony between elements of filmmaking feels like. The snazzy script, the effortlessly suave acting, Curtiz's fluid work with the shadows and the songs! I was expecting a slow drama/romance, but was pleasantly surprised with how stuff moves so quickly, with setting up the political tumult before letting the personal tumult loose. Although I feel that Ilsa should've been a more active presence, with regards to Rick and Victor both. The war added a sense…
"If you expect disappointment, then you can never really be disappointed."
Not only is this line terrible, but it also isn't quite true: I expected to be disappointed by the film, and the film delivered on my expectations. It tries to juggle a lot, and isn't successful enough. Somewhere at the core premise lies a good film, maybe even a great one, but some lazy writing and a cop-out ending whose ramifications aren't truly explored paired with a director who…
What an unexpected, darkly hilarious surprise! It functions more like a tense thriller in the first half, where the humour is drawn from how the elaborate plan has unplanned minor obstacles, one of which does come bite our ragtags as a Chekhov's gun, while the second half lets loose all
the comic genius present in front and behind the camera. Subodh Bhave enters right at the halfway mark, and his doings complicate matters. Is the perfect murder the perfect suicide,…
