Variety spent 3 paragraphs explaining what a Pope is. In a Conclave review.

Peter Debruge has never met a simple observation he couldn't inflate into a thesis statement. His Conclave review opens by contextualizing the Catholic Church's electoral process as though his readers — who chose to click on a review of a film literally called 'Conclave' — might not be familiar with the concept of choosing a Pope. Thank you, Peter, for that orientation. Without your guidance we might have assumed the film was about a competitive baking show set in the Vatican.

Debruge is Variety's chief film critic, which means he reviews everything and has strong opinions about all of it, delivered in prose so dense it could be used as building material. His Conclave review is positive, but it's positive in that specific Variety way where the praise is buried under so many subordinate clauses that you need a machete to find the point. He calls the film a 'tense search' and praises it for treating its audience 'like adults,' which is less a compliment to the film and more a passive-aggressive jab at every other movie released in 2024. Peter doesn't just review films — he grades the entire medium on a curve, and the curve always favors whatever he's reviewing at that moment.

The review is competent. Debruge correctly identifies that Ralph Fiennes is very good in the film, which is like correctly identifying that water is wet — true, but not the kind of insight that justifies a byline. He discusses Edward Berger's direction with genuine knowledge of cinematic craft. The problem is that Debruge writes every review as though he's the smartest person in the room, and after reading enough of them, you realize the room he's imagining is always empty.