MADAME WEB: HOW NOT TO MAKE A MOVIE

Madame Web, oh boy, where do I even begin with this cinematic catastrophe?

To start off, the ADR in this disasterpiece is so horrible, it feels like they had an intern stay late and do impressions into a microphone. And don't even get me started on the god awful CGI. I feel like comic book flip art would have done this film more favours.

Next thing is the time-period. The movie is based in 2003, but it seems like the writers were born in 2005 and only had access to a singular Google search of what was popular in the 2000’s. I also really enjoyed the part where a writer must have just googled “Were cell phones a thing in 2003?” and got the response yes but they weren't common.” A rouge Beyoncé's poster and a brawl set to Britney Spears' "Toxic" might be the only redeeming Y2K-esq qualities about this entire movie.

A personal note for Dakota Johnson. Dakota… I don't want to be your enemy, but right now, I can't be your friend. Thank you for inspiring me with confidence, and making me believe that if I had famous parents, even I could play a superhero. Sydney Sweeney is stuck playing a poorly written character who is apparently a teenager, but I was more convinced about her being a teenager in "Euphoria" than whatever this film was.

Celeste O'Connor is fine, I guess, but the only one who seems to have remembered they were meant to be “acting” was Isabela Merced. Even Adam Scott looked like he was just there for a cheque. And Zosia Mamet, one of the coolest and most talented actors around, was forced to sit behind a desk and play secretary to the Villain. The villain? Ezekiel Sims, a one-dimensional character so bland it feels like they’ve asked AI to write a villain for a kids show.

And, oh, possibly the biggest crime this movie has committed—the glow-down of Emma Roberts. They’ve taken a vibrant, fierce actress and turned her into a pathetic damsel in distress with a questionable pregnancy pillow. Bravo, Marvel, you've managed to reduce some of the most talented  ensemble to date, into a collection of weak community-theatre recitals which just happened to be caught on camera.

Madame Web isn't just a film; it's an insult to the art of storytelling, film-making, and script writing. The amount of genuinely good films which studios are not releasing, instead opting for tax cuts, makes me wish Madame Web stayed on the cutting room floor.

I wish I had those 2 hours of my life back.