Undimmed. As much as the paintings of Otto Dix and Max Beckmann, M captures the decay of interwar Germany and a perverse romanticism among the artistic class. Here, a Weimar neighborhood is populated by lovable crooks, self-serious lawmen, and enervated townspeople. Almost every person is grotesque, and yet Peter Lorre stands out among them for the way his restless face shifts — calmly persuading a child, then freezing in fear, and then somewhat persuasively arguing for the innocence in his repugnant compulsion. 

In the great cinema tournament of nations, Germany’s entry is M.

What in the Cocoon, A.I., Arrival, Melancholia, E.T., 39 Steps of the Third Kind was that?

Before the movie, I traded seats with an African American short king so he could see. Soon after, he offered to share his vegan chocolate chip cookies with me. That’s the spirit.  Later, something happened and he said, “This fuckin guy!” 

Top notch moviegoing experience. Was it because of the movie? In spite of it? Do you even care?

This is dewey eyed-Spielbergian brie — soft cheese, easy noshing, so-fist-i-cay-ted

They made their movie! A little repetitive, derivative, and not terribly scary… but I do feel like I spent a week in the company of five high school bullies in rural Ohio, kids raised on Jackass and living out their derelict dreams in the late spring before their dying

A perfect creature feature.

Fred Ward can get it

Sally Hawkins eats like a goddess, serving Happy Go Lucky and maximum cunt in one of the top five performances of her outstanding career.