Ralph Hammann

This bears no resemblance to the original which already has two worthy sequels, the widely despised (and undervalued) Heretic and the terrific Exorcist 3). It needn’t necessarily resemble it, but something other than the presence of Burstyn and cameo of Tubular Bells, ought to justify its claim of heritage. Empty script, pedestrian direction and characterization, and a total absence of atmosphere are its most memorable qualities. Friedkin’s head must be spinning in his grave.

This is one of the best in the series. Unlike many, it got under my skin and left me more than entertained. A delightful action sequence at a Cuban nightclub is counterbalanced by an existential ending that works on multiple levels.

Hugely enjoyable satire on elitist Liberals and Clinton-labeled “deplorables”, the film takes no enemies as it twists and turns to its kickass climax. Plenty of red mayhem leavened with black humor and at least one amusing reference to Orwell. Betty Gilpin is terrific with a host of superbly timed reactions, intriguing facial expressions and nuanced line delivery. She’s as powerful as any A list actor in any A list Oscar contender. Wow!

To miss this film would be to deprive oneself of one of the best performances in Cate Blanchett’s sterling career. The plot requires a few leaps of faith and challenges suspension of disbelief, but the uniformly excellent, right down to the briefest cameo, cast offer flawless support. And Blanchett is riveting in a large, complex and fascinating role. Any critic who misses this loses all authority and Is not even good enough for the compost bin.

A narrative mess with poor transitions and makeup. Strong acting, especially by Florence Pugh who rises above inadequacies of the script with its unsubtle speechifying. A poorly curated succession of pretty pictures.

This film disgusts me. Dafoe might as well be anyone walking through Julian Schnabel’s self conscious, self indulgent and pretentious mess. It is less enlightenment than obfuscation. Easily the worst attempt to capture van Gogh on film.

The first hurdle to accepting this film is believing Melissa Leo as a classical Shakespearean actress. The next hurdle is believing anything else about her coarsely acted revenger. Save for Bella Thorne, everything about this amateurish film is either ham-fisted or boring. Leo’s hallucinations of herself in tragic roles do provide a few risible distractions.