This movie is a miracle of casting, acting, scripting, cinematography, and action choreography with tender love scenes, kick-ass violence, awesome gay love, and a reaffirming message about the value of a life.
Though perhaps hilarious at the time (as evidenced by the spinoffs), the humor leans so heavily on 1950s gender expectations that it’s hard to enjoy today.
The film’s magnificent title is out of sync with the emotional weight it tries to deliver, and Sam Elliot may be too understated an actor for the film’s ambitions.
This is a muddle of a movie plagued by inconsistent characterization and dominated by terrible policework, especially in the interrogation room.
Final Score tried so hard to be Die Hard, from useless police and minority sidekicks down to recording villains on your hand and throwing corpses off of roofs, but forgot to give us a charismatic villain or to humanize the hero with doubts or injuries that matter.
Stanley Tucci and Kiernan Shipka acted brilliantly, and Tucci headbutted someone with his perfect forehead, but this is otherwise a weak, watered down version of A Quiet Place with none of the daring.
Despite Reeves’ predictable flat affect, the two leads do a good job of portraying two damaged people grasping for joy in a toxic love affair that ends appropriately abruptly, as does the movie.