I really want to cheer for Ridley Scott. I really want to defend him, to call myself a forever fan. He directed one of my all-time favorite movies, Blade Runner, and he’s a Hollywood rarity: a bigshot, big-budget director with genuine artistic talent and ambition. Too bad he keeps putting out trite, confused mediocrities with pretensions to social and political commentary. His latest, Body of Lies, is, alas, no exception. My only hope, at this point, is that losing a box-office war to a talking chihuahua might knock some sense into him.
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