Derek Smith

John Turturro, Steve Buscemi, and Giancarlo Esposito all bring a weary soulfulness to the film, helping it cultivate a melancholy tone without tipping into sentimentality.

The film gestures toward interrogating state-sanctioned violence, but dubiously so, as it’s mostly content to celebrate revenge as justice.

It delivers enough lean, mean action to almost distract from the fact that it’s another in a long line of Die Hard rip-offs with little of that classic’s wit, verve, or charm.

This cheery trifle amounts to little more than a collection of quirky character interactions.

The film does at least freshen up the series formula, slyly using the kid-favorite Minions to smuggle in a celebratory message about the theater-going experience and the enduring power of cinema.

If the last film suggested that Knoxville and company were more than ready to pass the torch to a younger generation, Jackass: Best and Last represents a course correction of sorts, as it proceeds as a celebration of the gonzo accomplishments of the original core group.

The film often strikes the right balance between loony satire and heartfelt commentary.

This endlessly playful, humorous, and mirthfully gory film is pure Jane Schoenbrun.

The film turns the realities of a tragic, deeply complicated life into a sanitized popcorn film.

Aneil Karia’s Hamlet, which is nearly defined by its handheld camerawork and the medium close-ups on Riz Ahmed’s face, is one of the more intimate adaptations of Shakespeare’s play to date.