A man and a woman bickering for ninety minutes. That's my review summed up in one sentence. A young couple, who in theory care for each other, spend most of the movie sniping and yelling at each other. Maybe I was just raised differently, but I've promised my wife if I ever raise my voice towards her, it's because there's something imminently dangerous present, such as a fire, a mad gunman, or Nancy Pelosi at the door with a clipboard in her hand.

The murder mystery part of the story was good enough. There was a definite whodunit at the core of the movie. The nail-on-blackboard drama of the main couple's relationship, however, overshadowed all of that. This overdone tension made any comedic undertones null and void. And then add a couple of intersecting love triangles (a love rhombus?) and before long, I kept visiting the snack bar.

Your mileage may vary, of course. This wasn't the type of movie that prompts you to contact your Congressman and demand that all copies be collected and destroyed. I'd be fine if they were just locked in a vault.

If memory serves correctly, "Manhattan Murder Mystery" was only so-so Woody, kind of a throwaway, and this reboot/homage/ripoff is a lot more entertaining. The opening scenes are nothing special, but the murder plot starts heating up pretty quickly; the rest of the film's an interesting blend of comedy and suspense. The killer's MO is totally preposterous—maybe a comment on hipsters who always have some weird art project going on—but most of it's played pretty straight until the farcical climax, not counting a couple of ingenious sightgags; the script gets a lot of mileage out of one character's inability to figure out his new iPhone.

I'm pretty sure no other director would have picked (writer-director) Lawrence Michael Levine to play the male lead, but Sophia Takal has plenty of goofy charm as his suspicious fiancée. Indie stalwart Kevin Corrigan ("Results") makes a fine prime suspect; the attractive supporting cast includes Anne Parisse, Alia Shawkat and Jason Ritter as young creatives who get involved in various ways. At least one critic (Richard Brody of The New Yorker) picked "Wild Canaries" for his year-end-best-of list, though the critics on this site appear to be a much tougher crowd… Decidedly above-average streaming Netflix fare.

I never write reviews but 'Wild Canaries,' I feel, truly deserves a public service announcement. Please go see this movie. It is a perfect, if unintentional, blast of zeitgeist that will educate you on how the new America rewards its self-satisfied elite for the barest of efforts. You will swoon at the sad realization that this demonstration of talentless privilege unwittingly provides.

In short, this movie managed to make its lack of heart (and art) so outrageously offensive that I can only pray that it will quickly disappear from my consciousness..

From the moment Levine's idiotic presence graced my screen I knew I was in for it. My theory is that his brand of self- satisfied mug can only derive from a total lack of self-awareness coupled with a life of being rewarded for mediocrity, and I think this movie and some of the reviews on this site bear me out. Sophia Takal, who I really liked in the truly inspiring movie 'Supporting Characters,' joins him here with a screechy, sophomoric characterization that should, if there is any justice in this world, put an end to her acting career.

The writing, if I can call it that, managed to sap any and all energy and tension out of every single pivotal scene in the movie. Here's a clue: even if you're writing a 'screwball comedy,' the audience expects the characters to act in a somewhat believable manner. Situations, as opposed to screeching while jumping up and down and doing stiff 'funny walks,' are what drama, comedy, and tension should derive from. The 40's screwball comedy/mysteries they are trying to emulate were dripping with elegance, real mystery, tension, and charm. This movie has none of these things- and less.

The only mystery here is how this mess got funded, and, sadly, even that isn't much of a mystery; to answer my own rumination, there really is no justice in this world-- These are exactly the kind of entitled hipster idiots who somehow manage to convince gullible dental surgeons and rich families to open up their wallets and drop their pants so they can take a shot of uninspired arriviste 'art' up the wazoo.

But, not to worry for their future: I'm sure that what these hacks lack in talent will undoubtedly be assuaged by the oblivious and comfortable lives they will lead living off of their parents' real-estate investments while basking in the adoration of like-minded dimwits.

I truly wish these people the best in the hope that, for all our sakes, they stay far away from anything that resembles a movie set in the future.

And thank heavens there's a real world outside of Red Hook and Bushwick that knows crap when it sees it. And if it sounds like I'm making a personal attack on the makers of this movie, it's because I am; I don't like being taken for an idiot.