I’d probably be more forgiving of a fun Jai Courtney performance if it wasn’t in a listless approach to exploitation. All attempts at moral buy-in fall flat. Just make your genre movie balmy, it’s okay!

Not nearly a good Die Hard movie, not nearly a bad time. Comparing the tactile and conceptually insane action sequences here to the tedium of Ballerina makes you wonder where the fuck Len Wiseman went wrong.

And no, I do not accept Underworld slander because that franchise skyrocketed Kate Beckinsale to fame, my favorite celebrity to ever post about butt stuff on social media.

Melissa McCarthy dancing to Macklemore's THRIFT SHOP with a paper bag on her head before she robs a fast food restaurant is the most American scene in cinema this year.

Re-creation isn’t a personality.