laird’s review published on Letterboxd:
Pretty grim and foreboding from the get go when you open on lovers like corpses under sheets (and a bit of dialogue like, "They're gonna have to wheel me out of here on a stretcher"). Almost reminded me of Cosmopolis (of all things) in how Fassbender went around collecting objective data (times, dollar amounts, values, scales of quality in diamonds, etc), scribbling notes in his little black book, and seemed totally baffled by the messiness and chaos of the real world. "Do you understand what that all means?" he asks Javier Bardem, pointing to a monitor displaying what looks like financial figures. "No, but she [referring to Cameron Diaz's character] does." Darwinian.
I like in McCarthy's crime stories how insignificant the details of the crimes are. He takes the macguffin to a whole other level, almost abstraction. Ridley Scott's uber-slick style seems almost too neat, too beautiful at times for the content which is both ponderous and ugly in a way that Scott's movies rarely are. It's not really problematic, per se, but at least in my brain, it felt very odd, almost like cognitive dissonance.
Best Chekhov's "gun" in recent memory.