A history lesson in every utterance of dialogue, you can’t go a minute without the filmmakers reverting to the Third Reich elementary textbook, because, as audience members, we’re of course incapable of reading.
So much about this trite, lightweight, run-of-the-mill drudgery infuriated me, but just to illustrate, here’s an example of its level: The nauseating alleged psychiatrist in this train wreck of a motion picture performs a card trick to pick up a lassie on a train. I found this rather amusing and thought the writers were taking the piss. But then he does another magic trick. And then another.
I think I’ve seen this in a dozen motion pictures, and they were all shite. But this one is curiously honking given the gravity of the events depicted.
The hammy ‘acting’, especially by the untalented, non-talented, talentless Rami Malek (Remi Maplin) pratfalling around like a tormented hipster, is a wee bit of an insult considering the subject matter. A snoozy exposition that takes an epoch to get going, the narrative has no choice but to truncate the Göring cross examination, reducing it to a five-minute ‘gotcha moment’.
A stupid movie made by folk who should know better, it’s an utter slog.
And the thoroughly wooden Colin Hanks is in it, the Pinocchio-like thesp quite possibly an even more glib actor than his father.
I’ve seen worse films, but if Tom Hanks is near celluloid, even if he doesn’t feature, you’re going to be in huge trouble.
Avoid this pish like the plague and all that.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 