Allan Northrop

Full of Gothic cliches, Campos's adaptation meanders in and around the lives of weary Appalachians who have a gloomy and violent relationship with God and each other. It's unfocused and uninteresting. The inner lives of characters are never given a second look, the score is a bland, generic re-working of bluegrass, country, and melodramatic notes that try to elevate the mood with no success. An ensemble cast only highlights the narrative shortcomings of this film. Robert Pattinson takes a turn as a philandering preacher in all his nasal glory; Tom Holland stops slinging webs long enough to channel his late father's rage (funny enough, it's the almost involuntary violence enacted by Holland's character that has the most consequence); Jason Clarke is a slimy, sweaty serial killer with a passion for photography; Sebastian Stan is a corrupt cop whose jacket doesn't fit him.... The story, after more than two hours, finally wraps up by tying up loose plot ends. And then mercifully, like Arvin Russell, we close our eyes and it's over.

I gave up on this polished turd a mere 57 minutes in. Why a studio would let Michael Bay anywhere near a movie set is beyond me. His disdain for his audience's intellect coupled with his borderline sexual obsession with special effects and explosions (what is the medical term for being sexually attracted to fire?) make this movie unbearable to watch. Sharp, quick, epileptic cuts, out-of-focus zooms, redundant car chases, a meagre plot...when does it end? Ryan Reynolds is long overdue to retire that superficially charming (slightly) fictionalised version of himself. He's unfunny, repetitive, and far too comfortable playing the same character over and over and over again. And Melanie Laurent...Such a waste of talent. This is a stupid movie made by stupid people for stupid people. Here's hoping Michael Bay has an accident on set sometime soon.

Heavy-handed and bereft of any true moral redemption. There is no character arc, nothing un-formulaic, and Mel Gibson is a sadist who does his best to remind us how cool war was. Gore-obsessed and lacking any subtlety, Gibson ignores the philosophical and ethical underpinnings of a character like Desmond Doss (i.e. motive), preferring slow motion action shots, flat dialogue, and close-ups of dead bodies to underscore his fetish for violence. Credit goes to Andrew Garfield and Vince Vaughn doing the best they can with what they're given. 1/5.