‘The Chernobyl Diaries’ review
For a film so blatantly designed to be provocative, Bradley Parker’s The Chernobyl Diaries is a shockingly dull affair.
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For a film so blatantly designed to be provocative, Bradley Parker’s The Chernobyl Diaries is a shockingly dull affair.
A dedicated cast, authentic characterisation and a couple of genuinely terrifying moments lift Eduardo Sánchez’s horror from exploitative slasher into bone-jolting thriller.
If you think the idea of someone with a sheet over their head in a haunted hotel is more laughable than scary then think again.
Killer Joe is on the comical end of the crime-drama spectrum. That said, comedy doesn’t get much blacker than it does here.
An intriguing opening and a surprising finale cannot quite save The Pact from the tacky realms of ‘70s shlock horror.
You can deliberate over whether Rock of Ages is paying tribute to or poking fun at the music featured. But to do so would be to over analyse.
Already nicknamed ‘Sprint it like Beckham’ in some quarters, this is one British feel-good film we can all rally around even if we don’t do well in the Olympics this summer.
There are a lot of ideas and flourishes floating around in Prometheus – too many, in all honesty – and as a result the film lacks focus at times.
For all the film’s breathtaking landscapes and outfits, there’s a sense of something being kept back most likely to meet the film’s 12A certificate.
MIB3 may not quite reach the heights of the original, but it does a much better job than the last effort.