Death Becomes Her

The target of the movie's jokes is female vanity, but since Zemeckis exhibits not a trace of affection for the actresses (or for any of the men, either), one feels humiliated merely watching his crude-spirited wit.

This new horror-comedy has to be one of the most heartless mainstream pictures ever made.

If there were something resembling genuine satire of human behavior beyond the simple pretexts for fancy special effects and relentless sadism, I might have found some of this funny.

An elaborate piece of work with more than a little on its nasty mind, "Death" finally falls flatter than many a less ambitious film, proof once again that just because an idea is audacious doesn't necessarily mean it's good.

Meryl Streep shines in a glitzy black comedy, but it's still She-Devil with a make-over.

Insistently grotesque, relentlessly misanthropic and spectacularly tasteless, ''Death Becomes Her'' isn't a film designed to win the hearts of the mass moviegoing public. But it is diabolically inventive and very, very funny.

It’s funny, horrifying, and tightly plotted. It goes down a little too smooth, but it may have been all that was possible at the time.

Streep and Hawn are divine in their respective roles, but it's Bruce Willis who steals the show in Robert Zemeckis' special effects showcase.

A delightfully bitchy camp fest that features absolutely committed comedic performances by Streep, Hawn and a surprisingly understated Bruce Willis. An absolute treat of a film, even if the third act is a little too Ernest-centric.

Death Becomes Her is a magical and delightful illustration of queerness without sexuality.