After some exhilarating, genre-melting moments in director Baz Luhrmann’s wildly anachronistic take on “The Great Gatsby,” things settle down and more closely resemble F. Scott Fitzgerald’s classic tale of love and loss amid the opulence of the roaring ’20s.
The only muscles they never exercised were their brains.
You don’t go to Tom Cruise movies to think.
Given the game’s inherent poetry, it’s nearly impossible to make a bad baseball movie.
Take away the woefully rudimentary computers, Laura Dern’s mom jeans and Samuel L. Jackson’s hair, and it has all the trappings of a modern blockbuster.
As franchises go, “G.I. Joe” was less a fixer-upper than the sort of thing you burn to the ground for the insurance money.
