Mary Poppins Returns
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All Critics (11)
| Top Critics (7)
| Fresh (1)
| Rotten (10)
There's more boobs than brains in Adam Sherman's semi-true tale of heedless, bored debauchery
An astoundingly bad memory piece that blows its potential dramatic heft at every turn.
This strident exposé may gladden the hearts of some anti-'60s conservatives, but it is a shapeless mess steeped in prurience.
Rarely has anything so lurid seemed so downright mundane.
O.K., life without structure or purpose leads to disillusionment and angst, but we knew that already. I'll be darned if I know what deeper lesson we're supposed to learn after suffering through 88 minutes of misery.
The film builds on a fascinating cautionary tale, but doesn't develop its characters past whatever movie-of-the-week crisis each suffers from.
Happiness Runs wears its air-quote truth like a protective cloak, to fend off dismissals of its narrative inadequacies: after all, if it's based on a true story, how could it not be infused with hidden profundity?
Sherman's macabre dream-fueled imagery elevates the material from solely navel-gazing, but only slightly.
"Callow" would be too kind a description of this messy, unoriginal and dull treatise of a filmmaker's youthful years in a commune.
An unexpectedly subtle coming-of-age film, Happiness Runs is also something of an allegory for Generation X's conservative reaction against the flower-power excesses of their baby boomer progenitors.
Disturbing, uncomfortable, and somehow pervasively dull. I kept waiting for an actual plot to develop, but it never really does.
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