Josh Parham

[Sarnoski's] greatest accomplishment is crafting beautifully intimate portraits of these earnest subjects, set within aesthetically pleasing arenas that highlight impressive craft and alluring performances. It’s an inventive take on Robin Hood to strip away the merry men, nasty sheriffs, and pining love interests. This presentation is much more somber, yet in a way that conveys a far greater significance. It’s what turns what could have been a needless adaptation into a profound experience.

The action sequences are banal, the narrative underwhelming, and the acting unextraordinary save for a few standouts. Maybe there is room one day for a thoroughly enjoyable render of this material, but this is sadly not the finest effort.

Even though there are still endless possibilities to discuss the aftermath of these great conflicts spread throughout history, this one’s execution is too flawed to be entirely riveting, despite some components being still worthy of praise.

The final notes are disappointingly underwhelming, but the emotional journey leaves a lasting impression.

The story still isn’t the most captivating and has another bit of frustrating sequel bait that muddies some arcs towards the finale, but it has a clearer sense of focus, at least putting the exciting sequences to the forefront. The filmmaking still has a bit of a stiltedness to it, but it leans further into an energizing tone that is far more engrossing.

The potential for a much more engrossing venture is sadly bypassed for a merely passable showcase.

It may not always be easy to thoroughly enjoy a work like “Blue Film” because of its tough subject matter. Nobody wants to see an entirely sympathetic perspective of a person who has committed some of the most horrible deeds imaginable. But the strength of the film is not in seeking to answer those pure moral questions. It thrives in that gray area, contemplating the pain that leads people to the lives they end up creating for themselves.

It’s a tale as old as time, but the filmmaking basks in its luxurious style as the performances do their best to create captivating portraits of their own. There may not be too much distinctiveness from what’s on the page outside of the lack of talking, but sometimes words fail. Action is needed, and this has more than enough to satisfy.

There are very dark chapters in Michael Jackson’s life that one would not expect a film with the full endorsement of his estate to approve. It’s understandable, even expected, for these kinds of works. But what makes “Michael“ come underneath that generously low bar is that it refuses to paint its subject as anything less than saintly. It truly feels like this version of Jackson has been deified, shown to be consumed by his talent but without any dramatic stakes to accompany his triumphs.

Bunnylovr is another attempt to examine the melancholy that is especially prevalent among the young. What it gleams is an intriguing portrait, but it is also inconsistently engaging.