Some movies aim for lofty vulgarities; this one aims low and hits all the marks. ... The result is tone deaf, dated, never sexy nor funny enough to grab our interest. What could have been good fun becomes a perpetual drag of jaw-dropping crudities and cringe-inducing antics that were seemingly written and directed by a horny teenage boy with no sense of taste.
Leto sadly feels more like the conclusion of summer than the start of the year’s brightest season, and is too devoid of energy to warrant a recommendation to anyone other than diehard fans of Serebrennikov’s prior work.
And to say that directors Joe and Anthony Russo fulfilled the promise set by last year’s blockbuster, and the 22-film MCU story arc, is a gross understatement. The directing duo has really outdone themselves with this one. It’s just that outdoing themselves comes with some consequences.
A magnificent, tight exploration of romance and what it means to walk that path wearing blinders. Most people have done this at one point or another, and Silver’s triumph is that he’s crafted a film that puts his audience both inside of this, but also at a distance where it can be appreciated.
It’s always dangerous to wonder about what a film might have been rather than contending with what it is, but in this case what it is, is so bland, and so stolidly workmanlike in execution that even the most dedicated viewer might find her attention sliding off DP Zac Nicholson‘s ration-book-colored images and wandering to the what-ifs.
Oscillating between traditional documentary and experimental, subjective attempts to capture what it’s like to be impaired, Evans creates a moderately successful portrait of, what the film references as, the space between seeing and not.
In being such a simple, unshowy film, it avoids asking too many questions or digging for the larger truths writ large in the story of Fyre about our society, about celebrity and influencers and Instagram, and the patently manufactured lives that we’re taught to believe we can have.