What films like this need to do instead is construct steel-man arguments for both sides. Make the opponent's argument a fortress. Let us see the handiwork of both sides and judge accordingly.

Nolan’s true triumph lies in filling this complex world with characters who keep it spinning with their desires, which in turn are finely tuned products of the new world and the familiar.

What enhances nostalgia from a malingerer’s daydream to worthwhile study is the ability to re-evaluate the joy against what soured it—precisely what’s missing here.

It is his and others’ many honest, searing flares of temper that give Lance a rapturous allure. The anguish, both self-imposed and in response to a corrupt system, has built up over decades and finally finds an outlet.

I’ve seen many films, but I’ve never cried and laughed at the exact same moment. Until now.

What we lack is a real Vader, even a Tapia-level villain. Ours spends most of the film barking orders on the phone, her plotting like an incantation, more of the same.

A creative amalgamation of seemingly dissonant themes that end up combining surprisingly well.

The Titanic of finance; focus on one group scrambling all night to survive gives us the collapse’s emotional heartbeat.

It pays to consider the wake Life is Beautiful left behind; the controversy would be moot if not for Jojo’s brilliance.

We ought to remember, and not lament, that we are all fit for many things, but the greatest of these is still love.

Plenty of films squeeze their protagonists under deadline pressure; rarely is it so keenly felt.

Martin does his work for the Art; Moore does his for the fans whose adulation he craves.

Good that rookie Brian Kirk admires Michael Mann more than Michael Bay.

Baumbach has created a masterful elegy for Nicole and Charlie's love story.