Critic Reviews



Based on 20 critic reviews provided by
Fredrik Bond makes a promising feature debut with this fanciful crime-drama romance that gratifyingly eschews strict genre classification.
The bad guys really stand out, with Mikkelsen pulling off something he never managed as a Bond villain. He's genuinely frightening.
Wood, for her part, can appear sad, or seductive, or mysterious, or happy, or lovestruck, or deeply troubled. Gabi is also very good with a gun, so look out.
A caper thriller that's sufficiently zippy to hold the attention. LaBeouf's current notoriety adds extra piquancy to those urban fight scenes.
We could have lived without another '90s-influenced exercise in gritty wonderment. But thanks to a perfectly-matched lead, Shia LaBeouf, the movie makes enough impact to justify its existence.
In a film this hapless, it's hardly a surprise that no one can keep Bucharest and Budapest straight.
It's an engrossing, overstuffed disaster-sometimes captivating, sometimes too ingeniously terrible to turn away from; it's like watching a car wreck in slow motion, if both cars were stuffed with confetti.
An egregious entry into the pantheon of films about white Americans traveling to exotic lands in search of identity and soul-searching adventure.
A dull collection of unlikable, paper-thin characters, all of them stuck in a story that has nowhere interesting to go.
Charlie Countryman opens up with an interesting first section, but only backslides deeper and deeper in its overwrought and incoherent second and third acts.
LaBeouf and Wood don't clang, but they don't quite click, either. That's not enough for the film to persuade us of its message, that love is worth any sacrifice.
Charlie Countryman feels like the cinematic equivalent of a dodgy first novel, the kind authors write when they're young and full of romance, hubris, and pretension-then look back on later in life with something approaching mortification.
Every now and then, one comes across an indie film that's so showily awful, so drenched in bathos and cliché, and yet features such a uniformly sharp cast that you have to wonder: "What is it with actors?" Or, if one already knows what it is with actors, "Did this material actually look good on paper?" The heavy-sigh-inducing Charlie Countryman is just such a motion picture.
Fredrik Bond's direction and Matt Drake's screenplay deliver a charisma-free trip into a world of gratuitous violence, contrivances and tedium.
A pastiche of bad film cliches and scenes devoid of any real conflict or character development.
The result is the most idiotic excess of sex and bloodshed since "Only God Forgives."

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