The Spielberg this most reminds me of is 1941. Like that film it’s absolutely choc-a-bloc with visual information and infinite content to the point where you just end up glazing over and unplugging from the action, barely engaging with it beyond an appreciation for the showmanship. I can admire the surface pleasures as much as the next person and as a computer generated Frankenstein’s monster assembled from 80s pop-culture totems, it has its shallow delights (Chucky in a Spielberg movie?!?) but it is sorely missing a heartbeat.
Watched at the cinema.