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Billy Crystal’s direction is admirable, and you can feel his passion bursting through the screen, but the way the story is told mostly in prose rather than poetry, which is needed when you tell a baseball story. The script’s also a little rough and moves too fast.
I've never been much of an "eh, I'll throw this on" movie-watcher but for whatever reason, the urge came.
This is about how I remember it, but tbh, has aged really well in its social conscience, as most of the McKay films of this era have. At this rate, this current era will have the reverse effect.
Not sure why, but the news team visibly being in the bar and their reveal as Ron is called back to duty might be my favorite joke.
That and Vince Vaughn dialing it up for no particular reason.
Amidst a wave of other filmmakers (Spielberg, Anderson, Branagh to name a few too many) digging into their pasts to tell their boyhood stories, Richard Linklater's first film since 2019's bizarre but well intentioned Where'd You Go, Bernadette? is arguably his sixth film in that mold.
This time, it feels a lot more autobiographic, and instead of shooting on old film stock or lighting every shot like it's a folgers commercial, Linklater went back to a rotoscope style, which fits…
Over two hours of mystery, creepy clues and suspicion and the big reveal is that the most famous mafioso in Batman lore is… exactly who he was in Batman Begins and The Long Halloween, his two most famous appearances.
I’m just confused about how Reeves expected us to react to all of this, and viewing it through the lens of someone not as plugged into the Batman lore, is a mafia…
This was an absolute hoot. And I'm not just saying that because U2 got multiple shoutouts and needle drops (none of which really fit with the scenes but you won't find me complaining about that) but because some beautiful, wonderful casting director, dialogue coach and studio executive gave us two hours of Tommy Lee Jones and Jeff Bridges going all in on terrible but amazing irish accents.
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