Due to my deplorable white counts, I've been watching a lot of Netflix these days from my bubble house rather than venturing out among the great unwashed (no offense, y'all).
I have most recently seen Casino Royale. My four word review?
It looks so good! Daniel Craig is the hotness! The Bond women are the hotness! His gritty realness is refreshing! The better writing is fantastic! The human--rather than technological--feats are fantastic!
The ending is LAME.
In one scene, (spoiler alert!) he's having his gonads tortured. In the very next, he's convalescing in some beautiful villa, apparently not healed enough to be sitting in a regular chair sans blanket, but "healed" enough to get it on with Eva Green. And the next 8 minutes are spent wondering what segue or transitional scene got edited out in between.
I know the movie was long, but when you're already up at 2 hours, keeping in two more minutes to explain such a jarring change in storyline and setting wouldn't be a bad decision.
In short: After this movie I was shaken but not stirred.
(Gene Shalit better watch his back, yo! I'm coming for him, with puns blazing!)