The Guardian's Scores

For 1,669 reviews, this publication has graded:
  • 43% higher than the average critic
  • 3% same as the average critic
  • 54% lower than the average critic
On average, this publication grades 1.2 points lower than other critics. (0-100 point scale)
Average Movie review score: 62
Lowest review score: 20 The Captive
Score distribution:
1669 movie reviews
  1. Even Stallone's rumbling voiceover possesses the drooping tone of a lullaby – like 45rpm vinyl played at 33. And if you think that reference is retro, you should see the actual movie.
  2. I give the odd, small film Maggie all the points in the world for experimenting with genre-blending and subverting audience expectations, but there’s just too much about it that fails to connect.
  3. Saint Laurent is a well made but bafflingly airless and claustrophobic film.
  4. It aims for sexy and/or dangerous, but the tone is dry and the pace lags.
  5. It’s a wildly dated-looking and derivative film, a quaint adventure in fantasised naughtiness.
  6. Horns plays instead like a high concept beer advert – breezily stylish, memorable in its time, but a bit too full of gas.
  7. Tom Gustafson's film proves genial to a fault.
  8. It’s flabby and repetitive, but peppered with moments of exquisite sonic lusciousness – not unlike the album itself.
  9. Wallace permits some debate as to what this tale represents – miracle? horror show? evidence of declining anaesthesiology standards? – yet that titular conclusion depends entirely on faith: what's on screen peters out.
    • 59 Metascore
    • 40 Critic Score
    For most of its length, in fact, the film seems to boil beneath its quiet surface like a Munro tale, and indeed like Joanna herself. Wiig carries this apparently unresolved tension in physical form: a wonderfully mannered performance of short steps and furious scrubbing and standing defensively behind chairs.
  10. It's quite a sweet idea, with a liberal attempt at balance, though Palestinian audiences may query the idea of making their half of this equation a child, and Fahed's motivation for defying his elders in quite so disloyal and dangerous a way, is never convincingly explained.
  11. There's undoubtedly a good film to be made out of the scramble for oil in the Arabian desert in the 1920s – but this, for all its herculean efforts, is not it.
  12. An incoherent, inconsequential picture which sometimes looks worryingly as if it is being made up as it goes along.
  13. Spiritually, it's closer to a mid-range crowd-pleaser such as City Slickers than Blazing Saddles, too enamoured of genre convention to reach for the comic dynamite.
    • 46 Metascore
    • 40 Critic Score
    The acting is wooden and the special effects aren’t all that special, but it’s a spirited effort and doesn’t drag during its 78 minutes. You’ll never approach après-ski in the same way again.
  14. A syrupy drizzle of tasteful prettiness covers this cloying movie about the painter Pierre-Auguste Renoir (Michel Bouquet) and his film-maker son Jean Renoir (Vincent Rottiers).
  15. Even by the standards of allowance-snatching half-term filler, this is pretty indifferent.
  16. This is a movie which begins with confidence and style, wearing its influences pretty insouciantly; the film sashays about the screen with a kind of sexy-chic smirk, like the unvarying facial expression of its co-lead Eva Green. But it wobbles at the brink of plot-holes which undermine the vital realistic plausibility of a film like this.
  17. It’s commendable that Perkins seems wholly uninterested in the tropes of the genre: there’s only one jump scare, hardly any gore and no final girl. The elusiveness of the narrative, however, grows weary fast.
  18. By the end of this 89-minute film, I was absolutely on the edge of my seat. Not due to suspense, but due to my utter disdain for the infantile plotting.
  19. So bogged down by form, Franco fails to get his head up enough to think about content.
  20. It has a sort of soapy reliability, but compare it to the blazing passion of Baz Luhrmann's modern-day version with Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danesin gangland LA and it looks pretty feeble. Plus, the liberties taken with the text mean that it might not even be all that suitable for school parties.
  21. The actors are committed – Mara, generally waif-like, appears frail indeed – but there’s barely anything worth committing to.
  22. It's imprisoned by its own glibness, grabbing for sensation over emotion, and looking silly whenever it misses.
  23. What we have on our hands is a dud, but there are a few grace notes that save it from being an unmitigated disaster.
  24. Pattinson gives what is simply a dull performance in a dull role: something in the casting and conception is wrong from the outset. Maybe he would have been better as Dean.
  25. Everyone is trying way too hard and Dom's final speech is toe-curlingly misjudged and charmless.
  26. Though our heroine remains more self-reliant than most Disney princesses, the film is too mild to constitute any kind of statement.
  27. The odd vivid shot reminds you of Rodriguez's dynamic visual imagination, but also what it's wasted on here: a project as indifferent as some of the trash that inspired it.
  28. What an extravagantly muddled, borderline incontinent film this is. You might call it genre-hopping, except that this would imply some degree of intent and control.
  29. The Transfiguration is a character study first and foremost, spending all of its time with Milo. Problem is, he’s so opaque that as a protagonist, he’s completely impenetrable.
  30. Novelistic, rich and awfully silly, London Fields – like Ben Wheatley’s take on High Rise - is a long-awaited adaptation of a popular and gloomily prophetic book, that seems unnecessary.
  31. It’s a strange, naive work, with something fundamentally misjudged about the drama, characterisation and casting.
  32. Even if you go into this film knowing absolutely nothing about the true story on which it’s based...you’ll sense something dreadful is going to happen because so much of it is crushingly dull.
  33. Dead Men Tell No Tales moves at a faster rate of knots than any Pirates film; trouble is, nothing has really been added. It’s the same soggy ride, set to a marginally preferable speed.
  34. Unfortunately both Eisenberg and Stewart, both frequently brilliant, are on unsure footing here. The movie simply doesn't know if it wants to be Jason Bourne or Cheech and Chong.
  35. A drama with interesting moments, but also some false notes and a wildly bizarre ending.
  36. The sharp edges of the story are sentimentally sanded down; there's a fair bit of slush, and it's a pretty quaint view of what writers and a writer's life are actually like.
  37. It's rammed with cliches and silliness and conforms to a lot of stereotypes, the most suspect being the obligatory scene in Ibiza whose only purpose is to show loads of young women with no tops on.
  38. A certain doofy sincerity – all fairy lights and lakeside kisses – and Wilde's nervy, natural responses keep matters semi-watchable. As a romance, though, it's by-the-book.
  39. A clotted, knotted, twisty noir that is, unfortunately, short on the required atmosphere.
  40. Overcooked, overcomplicated and underinteresting, this heist caper turns into a mess.
  41. Grimsby has the occasional laugh and a succession of finely wrought grossout spectaculars which are reasonably entertaining.... But with its cod-Bond and mock-action material it carries a weird overall feel, like kids’ TV but produced on a lavish scale with added filth.
  42. It could be that Hazanavicius wanted, once again, to channel some of that Old Hollywood big-hearted sincerity — just as he did with his silent-movie triumph The Artist. But the outcome here is naive and misjudged.
  43. The script's a drowner, the acting's awash. Again and again Butler returns to the sea. He just about survives the buffeting.
  44. Nanni Moretti's new film is occasionally amusing, but is also a frustrating and directionless experience.
  45. By itself, this would just be one of those workmanlike relationship films the French turn out by the yard; but all the Allen stuff throws its mediocrity into sharp relief.
  46. It runs out of steam, with plot revelations visible from a mile away and a bit of a plausibility gap.
  47. Pearce has fun; world-weary in the style of a 15-year-old told one too many times to tidy his room – but shoddy special effects and the surface-level sass of the president's daughter leave this one spinning in low orbit.

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