Without soul or wit, we're left with nothing but bad Halloween costumes and artillery. Nostalgia never felt so bad.
For those who don't mind a little blood & gore and a lot of profanity, Free Fire is a superior alternative to the big-name, bloated action films hogging the largest screens in most multiplexes.
Cornfed curse words fuel a script that doesn't amount to much more than a hateful snatch of Tarantino's set-bound posturing, spiked with a blend of pre-Madonna, semi-intelligible Guy Ritchie oddballs.
Ben Wheatley shouldn't settle for becoming the next Guy Ritchie. For some reason, he'd like to.
Armie Hammer has a gift for deadpan humor, and it's put to great use here. Cillian Murphy is the closest thing to a hero (or at least anti-hero we can root for) in the movie. Brie Larson is a gamer.
If its clip gets emptied before the characters' ammunition runs out, the film still hits its target dead-center.
A mostly fun, over-the-top ode to the siege movie, as well as a love/hate letter to all things firearm-related.
An exhausting, masturbatory, self-indulgent Tarantino facsimile.
We cease to care about who lives, dies and what body parts are shot off. It doesn't help that, at certain points in the chaos, it's hard to tell who's whom.