"Who killed the world?" asks Mad Max: Fury Road at various points in its runtime. It's a sweeping question and an essential one for the film's brutal beating heart, but unlike a question such as "who watches the watchmen?" there is very little ambiguity here.
I like to see big summer movies in the theater, I really do. It's my hope that the disappointing box-office receipts wake up the studios, and spur riskier ventures that attempt to keep up with what's going on in the online world.
After his questionable union with his stepdaughter, I'd abandoned Woody Allen. Not completely, but the once-brilliant auteur creeped me out, so I couldn't give his movies my full attention, respect, or merit.
In the hands of Guillermo del Toro, a cinema savant with an unbridled imagination and a unique talent for creature and set design, Pacific Rim is a modern triumph and probably the most fun you'll have at the movies this summer.