Rex Reed’s scalpel was particularly sharp in 2024, slicing through 43 films with the kind of ruthless precision only he can wield. This was the year he likened Mean Girls to “cinematic Covid,” torched Longlegs as a “dumpster fire,” and suggested that Cash Out had John Travolta so lost, “somebody stage an intervention.” For those seeking unfiltered truths about Hollywood’s latest offerings, Reed delivered—though not without a handful of pleasant surprises.
His ratings reveal a critic tough to impress: 28 percent of films earned 1 star, while 5 percent received the graveyard of zero stars. Horror films bore the brunt of his wrath—Longlegs and Heretic were sacrificed at the altar of his biting prose. Yet, amid the wreckage, 5 percent clawed their way to 4 stars, with dramas like One Life and Cabrini standing out for their emotional gravitas. Biopics, historical narratives and character studies fared best under his gaze, suggesting Reed still has a soft spot for films anchored in strong performances and rich storytelling.
One of the more controversial reviews? Reed’s glowing praise for Coup de Chance, which he called “Woody Allen’s best film in years.” In an industry where few dare applaud Allen publicly, Reed’s unapologetic endorsement (“unfairly derailed by obvious, headline-demanding personal problems”) was as bold as ever. Interestingly, the most-read review wasn’t the most positive—The Last Showgirl dazzled readers, perhaps more for the spectacle of Pamela Anderson’s Vegas reinvention than the film’s plot. It seems Reed’s audience enjoys his kinder takes, but they revel in his cinematic eviscerations just as much. When Reed loves a film, he ensures you know it—just as he ensures the worst offenders are left gasping for air.
Reed dismisses Across the River and Into the Trees as a “lifeless, meandering adaptation” of Ernest Hemingway’s novel, drained of the passion and intensity that defined the source material. Liev Schreiber’s performance feels muted, while the film’s pacing and direction fail to ignite any spark. Though Reed calls it “gorgeously photographed by cinematographer Javier Aguirresarobe,” he concludes that the essence of Hemingway’s work remains lost in translation. The movie “fails to find a dramatic thread that makes it worth sitting through,” Reed writes.
Reed calls American Dreamer “continually agreeable and full of surprises,” highlighting the irresistible pairing of Peter Dinklage and Shirley MacLaine. Dinklage plays a lonely professor who strikes a peculiar deal with MacLaine’s eccentric widow, leading to charming misadventures. Reed praises the film’s lightheartedness, describing it as “fresh, original, unpredictable and unexpectedly funny” a rare blend of whimsy and heart that allows its stars to shine.
Reed dismisses American Star as “a thriller with no thrills” and even less logic. Ian Mcshane broods through the film as a hitman sent to the Canary Islands, but the only thing he kills is time. Reed mocks the film’s attempt at suspense, describing it as a “meandering mess” where the scenery outshines the script. Even McShane’s gravitas can’t save this one from vanishing into irrelevance.
Reed grants Arcadian a rare nod, describing it as “balanced and solid, with equal measures of terror and suspense.” Nicolas Cage plays a protective father in a dystopian landscape filled with eerie creatures, and Reed acknowledges the film’s atmospheric tension and restrained use of Cage’s usual eccentricity. While the story follows familiar survivalist tropes, Reed appreciates its solid execution, calling it “satisfying entertainment” that “scared the daylights out of me.”
Reed watches Bleeding Love with all the enthusiasm of someone trapped in the backseat of an awkward family road trip. Ewan McGregor’s star power can’t rescue this meandering drama, which Reed says “moves too slow for its own good and hobbles its way to an inconclusive and unsatisfactory ending.” Starring alongside his daughter, Clara McGregor, Ewan’s performance feels sincere, but Reed finds the script lumbering and predictable, ultimately reducing the film to a personal project better left at home.
Reed hails Cabrini as “a massive achievement,” that transcends typical inspirational fare. Chronicling the remarkable journey of Francesca Cabrini, the first American saint, Reed praises the film’s emotional depth and historical significance. With a “valiant centerpiece performance” by Cristiana Dell’Anna, Reed describes the movie as “meticulously researched and unavoidably mesmerizing,” calling it “thoroughly and emotionally captivating.”
Reed laments Cash Out as another misstep for John Travolta, declaring, “if nobody cares enough to stage a career intervention, then it’s now up to Travolta to rescue himself.” The heist thriller limps through clichés and uninspired action, with Travolta’s performance doing little to elevate the paper-thin plot. Reed calls the screenplay “moronic and one-dimensional” and the direction “jerky,” concluding that Cash Out is less about thrills and more about reminding audiences how far Travolta has drifted from his Pulp Fiction days.
Reed describes Civil War as “a worthwhile movie to savor,” applauding its relentless pacing and striking visuals. While he critiques the thin character development, Reed notes the film’s gripping tension and provocative political commentary. “You will never be bored,” he quips, highlighting its ability to hold viewers hostage with high-stakes action and unrelenting dread. It may not be subtle, but Reed admits, “I don’t remember any movie as all-consumingly hopeless and depressing.”
Reed finds Close to You “emotionally observant,” praising Elliot Page’s performance as “brave and vulnerable.” Hillary Baack, on the other hand, is “miscast and inexperienced, mumbling so incoherently that whole scenes clumsily pass by without clarity.” The film’s intimate exploration of identity and family dynamics is heartfelt, though Reed notes the narrative occasionally feels meandering. While he credits Page for anchoring the film with authenticity, Reed ultimately doesn’t believe the “soapy resolve.”
Reed hails Coup de Chance as “restoring the masterful filmmaker to his deserved position as one of the screen’s most profound storytellers,” blending classic noir elements with Woody Allen’s signature wit. The story of love, betrayal and fate plays out in picturesque Paris, and Reed delights in Allen’s return to form, calling the film “endlessly mesmerizing.” While the plot veers into familiar territory, Reed notes that Allen’s deft direction and sharp dialogue elevate it to something special.
Reed describes Daddio as “a dreary two-hander word processed by first-time writer-director Christy Hall.” Though he praises a “wonderful” Dakota Johnson for her magnetic screen presence (“it’s nice to see what she can do with her clothes on”), Reed ultimately labels “the silly, pointlessly titled Daddio” a “terminal talkathon.” The entire film unfolds in the backseat of a taxi, where Sean Penn’s grizzled cab driver trades barbs and secrets with Johnson’s enigmatic passenger. Reed likens the film to eavesdropping on a conversation too juicy to ignore. The minimalism works, Reed notes, because “the film finds something to say about how human connection through the art of conversation is slowly being lost.”
Reed dissects Disco Boy as an exercise in artistic obscurity masquerading as avant-garde. Director Giacomo Abbruzzese crafts a film Reed dubs “genre-defying” but not in a good way—odd angles and narrative black holes abound. Franz Rogowski plays Aleksei, a man who ends up in the French Foreign Legion but somehow stumbles his way to half-naked nightclub dancing. Reed skewers the film’s incoherence, concluding, “If there’s a deeper meaning, it eludes me totally.”
Reed skewers Fly Me to the Moon for having “such severe narrative limitations it runs out of energy before the epic space vessel leaves the ground.” Despite Scarlett Johansson and Channing Tatum’s star power, the two “lack maximum charisma.” Reed laments the film’s attempt to blend space-race drama with romantic comedy and interjecting “so many conflicting subplots that they crash into each other faster than TV test pilot rewrites, resulting in uneven pacing.” Even the period charm can’t save it from feeling forced: “It’s much too long,” Reed quips.
Reed applauds Goodrich star Michael Keaton for “keeping the film balanced and beautifully timed” in his role as an aging art dealer grappling with late-life fatherhood. “He’s a master of the kind of uniquely personal leading-man character,” Reed writes. “He lets you know what he’s thinking even without words.” The film, Reed notes, matches Keaton’s charm “with an abundance of charms of its own, exploring a lot of characters without ever straining credulity” and the “superb” supporting cast—which includes Andie MacDowell and “a wonderful” Mila Kunis—never overstays their welcome. Despite some predictable beats, Reed credits the film’s emotional core and Keaton’s effortless charisma for elevating it above typical family dramas.
Reed compares Here to a collossally boring, “aimless, meandering comic book,” despite the star power of Tom Hanks and Robin Wright. While writer-director Robert Zemeckis attempts to craft a sweeping narrative of time and memory, Reed finds the film emotionally hollow (“a hateful experiment that backfires”) and overly reliant on tedius, digital gimmicks (“filling the screen with computer-generated robots defeats the whole purpose of making movies in the first place”), lamenting the absence of genuine human connection beneath the polished surface.
Reed finds Heretic an uneven horror-thriller, describing Hugh Grant as “an actor who couldn’t turn off the charm even if directed to.” Despite Grant’s best efforts, Reed feels the film’s scares are undercut by miscasting and lack of tension (“Shaving too fast with an old razor blade, I’ve had more scares than anything in Heretic from my bathroom mirror”). The plot, though ambitious, veers into predictability, culminating in a “disappointing greeting-card finale” where “everything collapses into hearts, flowers and butterflies.”
Reed praises Irena’s Vow as “one of the most astounding true stories to ever emerge from the ashes of the Holocaust,” lauding the film’s portrayal of Irena Gut, a Polish nurse who risked her life to save Jews during World War II. Reed highlights the emotional gravity of Sophie Nelisse’s performance, calling it “powerful and heartfelt.” The film’s gripping narrative and unflinching realism earn Reed’s near-perfect rating. “Never have a handful of non-celebrities better deserved their standing ovation,” he notes.
Reed finds Jeanne du Barry visually captivating but narratively thin. Johnny Depp’s portrayal of King Louis XV is understated (“he honors the fact that this is not a film about him”), though Reed notes the film’s true centerpiece is Maïwenn, who both directs and stars. Yet, while the lavish costumes and courtly intrigue shine, Reed criticizes Maïwenn’s script for dwelling “more on the decadent sexual excesses of period scandal than the underlying historical forces that changed the world.” Still, the spectacle and star power make it a worthwhile indulgence or, as Reed calls it, “a gorgeous period piece that is never boring.”
Reed describes Juror #2 as a “a work of consummate skill, control and suspense” with Clint Eastwood delivering sharp direction. Nicholas Hoult (“one of the best of the young breed of actors currently impacting the movie scene”) stars as a juror torn between duty and self-preservation, bringing intensity to the role. Reed praises the film’s suspense and Hoult’s layered performance, noting that he hasn’t seen “a courtroom drama this riveting” since 1957 (Witness for the Prosecution). While not groundbreaking, Reed highlights Eastwood’s craftsmanship, proving the veteran director hasn’t lost his touch.
Reed applauds Knox Goes Away as “an exemplary crime drama that looks at old cliches with a fresh slant,” showcasing Michael Keaton’s dual role as star and director. Keaton’s portrayal of a hitman battling memory loss is “solid and unwavering,” with Reed praising the film’s sharp pacing and emotional undercurrents. Al Pacino’s brief but electric performance adds flair, but it’s Keaton’s film through and through. Reed calls it “a chance to demonstrate the range and depth of character” that the veteran actor “rarely gets the chance to explore.”
Reed praises Lee as a “a riveting, honorable and comprehensive chronicle about the extraordinary life, work and importance of the impactful, world-famous photojournalist Lee Miller,” highlighting Kate Winslet’s powerful performance in the titular role. Reed admires the film’s blend of personal drama and historical gravitas, though he notes that the pacing occasionally lags. “A vivid and unforgettable tribute to one of the bold women who devoted her life to the penetration of male dominance to change the way we see the world,” he writes, applauding the film’s unflinching depiction of Miller’s life and career. “Don’t even think about missing it.”
Reed torches Longlegs, calling it “a load of total trash full of gimmicks instead of ideas, stolen scenes from other movies instead of originality, amateurish posturing instead of professional performances, clueless meandering instead of organized screenplays, and pointless confusion instead of clear-eyed direction.” Ridiculing its attempt at psychological horror, Reed dismisses Nicolas Cage for delivering “his most hysterical, unhinged, over-the-top performance” alongside a “charmless” Maika Monroe. The film’s overblown style leaves Reed exasperated, and he spares no mercy for the direction. Noting a lack of suspense and coherence, Reed concludes that Longlegs is a “tsunami of delirium, nothing less than moronic.”
Reed describes Maria as visually stunning but emotionally hollow. Angelina Jolie’s performance as opera legend Maria Callas is captivating, but Reed criticizes the film for lacking narrative depth, calling it a “dramatically listless biopic.” While Jolie shines, the film itself fails to match the grandeur of its subject, leaving Reed to conclude that Maria gazes admiringly at Callas but never truly gets to know her. “It is not a terrible movie, just a big disappointment,” Reed writes, after suggesting that Jolie would have done a much better job than director Pablo Larraín, “who did the same ‘poor me’ job on two previous bloated bios of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis and Princess Diana.”
Reed calls the Mean Girls remake “vapid, tasteless and monumentally stupid,” comparing it to “cinematic Covid you can’t beat to death with a stick.” Directed by Samantha Jayne and Arturo Perez Jr., this microwaved version of the classic offers loud costumes, screeching pop songs, and none of the wit that made the original worth watching. Tina Fey’s script update trades laughs for flat musical numbers, leaving Reed to conclude, “2024 is young, but I doubt things will get worse.”
Reed lambasts Never Let Go as “a stupid, time-wasting horror film that’s confusing and indecisive from start to finish,” with a phoned-in performance by Halle Berry (“one of the most undeserving victims of the mediocrity that is rampant on screens”). Searching for any kind of meaning is a waste of energy, Reed warns. The film is uninspired, incomprehensible and has “too many contrived surprises and twists to keep the audience awake.”
Reed lauds Nowhere Special as “triumph of sensitivity, humanity and good taste.” James Norton delivers a profoundly moving performance as a terminally ill father searching for the perfect adoptive family for his young son. Reed praises the film’s emotional restraint, which “manages to admirably transcend every tendency inherent to the usual label of ‘tearjerker.’” The intimate storytelling and authentic performances leave a lasting impact, making this quiet drama one of Reed’s top recommendations.
Reed praises One Life as “well-written and finely detailed,” with Anthony Hopkins delivering a masterful performance as Sir Nicholas Winton, the man who saved hundreds of Jewish children during the Holocaust. Reed commends the film’s relevance, calling it “so troubling that you cannot fail to be moved.” Hopkins, Reed notes, delivers “another in a long line of memorable, effective and inspired performances that resonate with truth.”
Reed finds Ordinary Angels to be heartwarming yet hard to swallow, calling it “one of those rare emotional sagas ‘based on a true story’ that begs to make it to the screen but seems preposterous when it gets there.” Hilary Swank plays a small-town hairdresser turned unlikely savior, and while Reed appreciates the film’s optimism, he calls the dialogue “simple as mud,” noting that “you don’t have to look hard to spot a cliché pandemic.” Still, Swank’s charisma and the film’s uplifting message make it a tolerable, if overly sweet, crowd-pleaser.
In his brutal takedown of Poolman, Chris Pine’s directorial debut, Reed spares no one. Describing it as “a vanity project of monumental miscalculation,” Reed lambasts Pine’s attempt at quirky noir, calling it incoherent, painfully unfunny and “one of the worst movies ever made.” Annette Bening and Danny DeVito appear, though Reed suggests this “distinguished cast of confused supporters” looks desperate for an escape route. The film’s oddball charm quickly wears thin, leaving Reed to conclude, “all hopes are eclipsed by its idiotic, self-indulgent nothingness.”
Reed skewers Red Right Hand as a “violent and nauseating excuse to entertain the portion of what is left of that dwindling movie audience that lives for nothing more than a lot of posing, crunching and muscle-flexing.” Orlando Bloom plays Cash, a reluctant hero drawn into a feud with a local crime boss (Andie MacDowell, whom Reed calls “a bland performer with no range of any importance who has devoted her career to roles that resemble cosmetics commercials”). With plot holes deeper than the Appalachian backdrop, Reed declares “the risk fails on every level.”
Reed commends September 5 for its gripping recreation of the Munich Olympics tragedy, calling it “the most rivetingly responsible film about journalism since Steven Spielberg’s The Post.” The film captures the tension and heartbreak of the hostage crisis, with Reed praising the direction for balancing historical accuracy (Reed was there!) and emotional weight. While difficult to watch at times, Reed highlights its importance as a sobering reminder of a moment that changed history, calling it “a film of gravity that screams relevance and is one of the best achievements of the year.”
Reed finds Sometimes I Think About Dying as lifeless as its title suggests. Daisy Ridley plays Fran, a socially awkward office worker adrift in mundanity. Reed describes the film as “blank as a sponged-down blackboard in an empty classroom,” with endless shots of Ridley staring blankly into space. While Ridley’s performance is committed, Reed laments that the film itself “barely registers a pulse,” ultimately offering more existential dread than insight.
Reed describes Speak No Evil as a one-man showcase for James McAvoy, who seems to have so much fun playing the villain that “you can’t take your eyes off him for a minute.” While the psychological thriller’s slow-burn approach tests patience, McAvoy’s unsettling performance (“sprawling, contradictory and totally galvanizing”) keeps the tension simmering. Reed highlights the film’s sharp dialogue and eerie atmosphere but warns that its grim finale may divide audiences. “The thrills are contrived but effective enough to make your hair stand on end,” Reed concludes.
Laura Linney’s star shines far brighter than Suncoast deserves, which Reed calls a “particular waste of her talent.” This coming-of-age drama, centered on a teenager grappling with family tragedy, feels like a Lifetime movie with better lighting. Linney’s heartfelt performance is the lone highlight in a film Reed dismisses as predictable and emotionally manipulative. Despite its earnest attempts, the movie never rises above cliché, leaving Linney stranded in a role that deserves a better script.
Reed declares The Fabulous Four “an unsalvageable mess,” deriding its forced humor and uninspired performances. Even Susan Sarandon can’t rescue this chaotic ensemble comedy, which Reed describes as “loopy and downright ludicrous.” The jokes rarely land, and the plot feels stitched together from clichés. “There is nothing fabulous about it,” Reed writes, advising viewers to avoid this cinematic detour.
Reed finds The Last Showgirl to be a dazzling yet bittersweet look at aging in Las Vegas, driven by standout performances from Pamela Anderson (“less of a comeback than a startling new beginning, hopefully promising more to come”) and Jamie Lee Curtis (“a supporting role so colorful it allows her to steal every scene”). Reed praises Anderson’s vulnerability and Curtis’s charisma, describing the film as “ a heartbreaking study of dreams and disappointments.” While not without flaws, Reed applauds the film’s heart and flair, calling it a tribute to the resilience behind the rhinestones.
Reed praises The Order as “first-rate filmmaking above and beyond the usual expectations of your standard thriller,” elevated by standout performances from Jude Law and Nicholas Hoult (“charismatic as hell”). The film’s tightly wound plot delves into a true story of neo-Nazi extremism, with Reed noting its chilling relevance and sharp execution. While dark and unsettling, Reed applauds its pacing and the actors’ ability to carry the narrative’s emotional weight. “At a crucial moment in modern history when the sins of the past are repeating themselves daily, I haven’t seen any film more relevant than The Order,” He writes.
Reed savors The Taste of Things as a luscious banquet of cinematic delight, praising its visual splendor and rich storytelling. Juliette Binoche and Benoît Magimel simmer with chemistry as 19th-century culinary artisans, elevating this French romance to near perfection. With “scenes designed to be tasted, chewed, savored,” Reed calls it a film to inhale deeply and digest slowly, applauding its elegance and restraint, even as he finds the plot’s deliberate pace challenging for those without a refined cinematic palate.
The Thicket drags Reed into a bleak, blood-soaked world he’s in no rush to visit. While Peter Dinklage delivers a committed performance, Reed laments that the film’s unrelenting brutality leaves little room for emotional connection. “There’s no plot,” he writes, criticizing the movie as a Western that mistakes bloodshed for depth. “In spite of its pointlessness, there’s always something visual to admire,” but stylish cinematography doesn’t make up for a hollow experience, Reed concludes.
Reed endures The Union like a chore, describing it as “perfectly in line with most of the other moronic time-wasters” in theaters these days. Mark Wahlberg and Halle Berry’s attempt at spy antics sinks under what Reed calls “endless predictable clichés.” The action sequences feel stale, and Reed notes the film never explains itself in a way that makes sense. “It’s to movies what salami on rye is to four-star gastronomy,” he quips, sealing its fate as another forgettable action flop.
Reed calls Thelma a feel-good comedy that flirts with farce, highlighting June Squibb’s standout performance as a feisty grandmother on a mission (“she makes every scene and every line so natural that when you laugh, you’re reacting to genuine humor, not calculatedly constructed punch lines”). While the plot leans into exaggerated antics, Reed finds charm in the absurdity, crediting Squibb for grounding the chaos with sincerity. “The film makes interesting contrasts between the elderly and the carelessly deviant society they live in,” he writes, noting that even when the humor borders on over-the-top, Thelma still manages to deliver heartwarming moments.
Reed describes Twisters as “one dimensional and tedious,” acknowledging the “superb” special effects while dismissing stars Daisy Edgar-Jones and Glen Powell (“the fastest rising glamour-puss since the young Robert Redford”) as “so undeveloped they seem like interlopers.” The disaster sequences provide excitement, but Reed finds little chemistry between the leads, calling their romance “as sexy as an algebra book.” Still, for fans of destruction, he admits, “the action sequences are nothing bland or dull, adding up to a whale of entertainment.”
Reed praises What You Wish For as “better than most horror movies,” acknowledging its clever twists and psychological depth. The film’s unsettling atmosphere and unpredictable narrative set it apart from typical genre fare. Reed highlights the performances of Nick Stahl, Brian Groh and Tamsin Topolski as keeping “exactly the right pace,” with just enough suspense to keep viewers engaged. While not groundbreaking, he calls it “a combination of thrills, suspense and creepy black comedy guaranteed to ingratiate seekers of films that are grim, offbeat and just a little bit different.”
