I’ve never really been attracted to Ryan Gosling until he brought Emma Stone home, put on a record and crafted a cocktail for her, garnished with orange peel. Swoon.

A funny film with an extraneous poop scene that made my husband, who dissects mice as part of his job, gag almost to the point of vomiting. I closed my eyes as soon as I knew where it was going. Wise move on my part if you ask me.

If you are a feminist, do not have sex the same night you see this film.

Monty Python’s first feature film is an hour and a half of the best sketches from their BBC show, Monty Python’s Flying Circus, reshot for an American audience.

In theory it should be just as funny as the original. Same jokes, same people. But somehow, everything falls flat. It feels joyless. Perhaps retread doesn’t make for good comedy, or maybe they lost something by performing for a camera rather than a live audience.

If you don’t know Monty Python’s work, this would be a great introduction, but if you’re already well-versed in their rather offbeat humor, I wouldn’t recommend it.

Listen. Your tie is always perfectly tied, your tax affairs are rock solid, but let your brush with psychoanalysis teach you this at least: you do not master everything. Some things escape you.

This film was all over the place, starting with the casting. Liam Niison (who I saw, six hours before this film, as a stuffy academic 1950s sex researcher, a much more fitting part) is paired with Bradley Cooper (okay, I can kind of buy that one) and a UFC fighter? Odd, no?

The plot was all over the place. There were obstacles put in the team’s way, over and over again, and while I would imagine there was meant to be an overall narrative arc, it was lost on me. Too many sudden stops and starts. It was like the story was being driven by a nervous sixteen year old testing for his license.

There were several action scenes where it wasn’t entirely obvious what was at stake. There was a terrible CGI scene at the end—terrible in that the CGI was gratuitous and obvious—not to mention the entire denouement was based on a shell game. In my opinion, narrative should aim to be clear above all else. Using the method of short-con doesn’t seem like the best way to satisfy an audience, but maybe it’s just me. Movies don’t seem to be financially viable these days without a twist, or, even better, lots of them.

Of course, I should say that I didn’t see The A-Team on television—before my time—nor did I choose to see this film. (Not my turn to pick.) Maybe I just didn’t have enough emotional attachment to the characters going in. But when Jon Hamm popped up at the end for a brief cameo as a CIA agent, I couldn’t help but wish that I’d spent the last two hours of my life watching a film based on that.

Watching this movie is like eating steak and eggs for breakfast. So utterly 1950’s melodrama, right down to the soundtrack.

The color palate, however, is more the way we remember the 1950’s in our romanticized haze than than the movies of the 1950’s actually were. It’s lovelier—and more deliberate, I’d suspect—than anything from that era.

Frequent fliers will no doubt relate to Ryan and his life in Airworld.

I was lucky enough to read this while flying, and it made for perfect plane reading. It’s a bit like people watching with someone you’ve never met. Plus, it’s nice to think about living such a mobile life, somehow.

It’s like a gay after school special. For Christmas!

I found this film to be visually striking.

Emily Blunt’s character fascinated me as well. I think a lot of girls at her age take great pleasure in inventing personalities for themselves, and it’s interesting to watch the power she has over Natalie Press’ character.