Jojo Rabbit

Taika Waititi's film is tender, daring, and sharp -- precisely pitched so that it keeps its path steady and its ambitions in check.

The tonal shifts in Jojo Rabbit don't work because they're not seriously intended, the intention here being instead to remain consistently cute.

Jojo Rabbit is many things, well-intentioned among them. Brilliant it is not.

Jojo Rabbit is bold in its inversion of expectations and its reimagining of a familiar subject. There's nothing trivial about it.

A pointless Hitler-spoofy YA adventure with a 12A certificate, obtusely accentuating little-kid cuteness and optimism amid the quaintly imagined non-horror.

A staggeringly ill-conceived satire that completely fails to explore its own premise.

One of director Waititi's real achievements is balancing his orchestration of this fantastical fable with the need to make periodic guest appearances as Adolph.

Jojo Rabbit feels genuinely spontaneous from moment to moment even as Watiti's clear focus on motif and foreshadowing reveals a film that reflexes and reflects upon itself.

Wes Anderson is a good reference point; Waititi's film is saturated in a similar aesthetic and tone.

JoJo Rabbit doesn't work as a satire because no matter how much time has passed, the tragedy continues to overwhelm the ridiculous.