This is, without question, the most artistic homage to dog shit ever filmed.

It’s exactly the film that May and Taylor wanted, and it’s a complete bore.

A tedious experience that made me cringe more than applaud or smile.

First Man attempts to bring color to a man who embodied the dull grays of the very surface to which he will forever be anchored.

Leans more toward unintentional comedy than summer blockbuster disaster movie.

The film ultimately collapses under its own weight.

It holds the tension with the empathy and effectiveness of a large metal vise.

Sadly only inherits the bad habits of the worst M. Night Shyamalan films.

A film bursting with potential that slowly deflates like an overfilled balloon.

Director Kormákur seems to have a knack for draining all of the energy out of life’s most epic stories.

Reitman taps into the same invigorating emotional reservoir as his brilliant 2007 film Juno.

A slow burn of political chess across a white-hot board where every move comes from the shadows.