“This close. You were this close, Sergei Bodrov, this close to finding the right ratio of badness to goodness—this close to churning out a ham and cheese sandwich to rival the likes of Beastmaster, Willow and Hawk the Slayer. Bodrov’s Seventh Son is cut from the same cloth, an ’80s schlockfest made in the wrong time and, perhaps, by the wrong person. It’s terrible, but it’s that special kind of terrible that can make a wary genre fan fall head over heels for its unapologetic awfulness. You’ll want to root for Seventh Son in spite of yourself. This is a movie where Oscar nominees spout nonsense about blood cakes, blood moons, blood rituals and other blood-related topics. How can you not love that?” (Via Paste Magazine.)
A Constant Visual Feast 