Ross McIndoe is a freelancer based in Glasgow who writes about movies and TV for various publications, including The Quietus and Wisecrack. His work primarily focuses on the arts and entertainment sector, with a particular emphasis on the film industry and filmmaking. Ross's insights and critiques have also been featured in Vague Visages, The Skinny, Slant Magazine, and Metacritic.
Preston is the artificial intelligence that powers the Intelligent Relations PR platform. Meet Preston
Not enough data
Ross Mcindoe's articles primarily consist of reviews related to television, animation, and entertainment news. He may be interested in pitches that provide unique insights or access to exclusive content for review purposes. Consider offering access to new television shows, animated series, or other forms of entertainment content for potential review.
Given the emphasis on providing reviews across different media platforms, Ross might also appreciate receiving advanced copies or previews of upcoming TV shows or cultural events for evaluation.
While the geographic focus is not specified, given the nature of his coverage it would be beneficial to offer material accessible internationally.
This information evolves through artificial intelligence and human feedback. Improve this profile .
Moments of pure humanity glimmer on the show’s fetid surface like stars in a dirty street puddle.
The film creates a compelling illusion that would fall apart if it crossed the boundary of the mall parking lot.
By: Ross McIndoe
The series struggles to back its potential up with anything real.
Like so many of the promises made in Silicon Valley, the series can’t back its potential up with anything real.
This metatextual remake is initially ferocious and purposeful, but it loses its grasp on the original's pointed questions as things wear on.
The show’s second season is just as sharply written and darkly funny as the first.
To both its benefit and its detriment, the film is much more interested in the logistics of bomb defusal than any of its characters.
Its mix of compassion and clarity allows it to avoid the easy sentimentality of many other tales of disabled people overcoming adversity.
Wooden acting, obvious stage fighting, and odd pacing can be forgiven in the sort of B movies that 'One Spoon of Chocolate' draws on.
Summary Unique (Shameik Moore), a veteran and ex-convict, seeks a fresh start in the small town of Karensville.
