
British director Alfred Hitchc*ck’s reputation as the “Master of Suspense” is still familiar to moviegoers around the world 25 years after his death. Hitchc*ck’s jowly visage and drawling accent are pop culture fixtures, and his movies are endlessly imitated and even spun-off into popular TV series. However, Hitchc*ck was more than just the man who gave the world Norman Bates and that infamous shower scene in Psycho (1960).

I flipped the final page of Andy Weir’s “The Martian” a couple of weeks ago. Thousands of other people have done the exact same thing since, and we all had similar motivations. I didn’t do it because I had heard good things about the book (at least, that was not the primary reason); rather, I did it because Ridley Scott’s adaptation of the book will be released in theaters this October.

To put it bluntly, Ricki and the Flash is a film which feels unfinished. It’s not a poorly made film, everyone involved seems to be at least putting in some effort, it’s just that between the script and overall editing, large chunks of the film seem to be missing and the film feels like it doesn’t deliver a full story. This is quite surprising, as the cast and crew behind the film are quite talented.