Folks, I love Charles Bronson. His films are garbage, but he usually makes me smile with little effort.
The “climax” of the film is another high point. I’ll go ahead and give it away.
If other children’s movies were as good as The Iron Giant, I might consider having children.
Once again, it is easy to become enveloped in this world as it plays out as it must, without tidy resolutions or soothing homilies.
A time-killing, Wes Anderson knock-off at best, a harbinger of things to come in the increasingly intolerable “independent” film scene at worst…
You haven’t seen a gay action movie shot until you’ve seen Chuck look back over his shoulder as he dispatches an enemy with his devastating tailpipe.
Really, any political content just kind of confused mess to serve as backdrop for all the ninjanity.
Feeling very much like an X-Files episode writ large for the big screen, The Forgotten is forty-five minutes too long and all too easily forgotten.
Feathered hair, sunglasses, tight jeans, firm muscles, and ready to kick Commie ass.
And at 53% good, well, I’m not sorry I watched it.