A recipe for a Soderbergh streaming era caper rendered an ugly, stillborn mess of buzzwords and tryhard quips. Marginally better than Road House if you value unremarkable bad over interesting bad. being a Doug Liman completist has become a miserable occupation since the pandemic
Ethan's in total hired hand mode here -- although hardly anybody could have done more with pre-existing (and very Lewis-centered) material only and the task being a postmortem celebratory doc. That Jerry Lee's achievements include marrying a teenage relative is a fact Coen & Cooke don't entirely shy away from: they ostensibly try to avoid lecturing and let us draw far-reaching conclusions* for ourselves. And featured interview excerpts make Lewis look an egotistical dork anyway, don't they? Well, it's just the…
Operation Fortune was Guy Ritchie faking himself, this is Guy Ritchie faking Operation Fortune (and also finding an excuse to fully lean into triumphant bloodthirst and unabashed jingoism -- an excuse that already questionable The Covenant still didn't provide). No running gags this time, the weakest Benstead score, Til Schweiger as discount Hans Landa and insanely hot cast generating as much chemistry as dead Walter White (Alan Ritchson and Eiza Gonzalez shine through this dreck, but alas). Would love to…
