Verbinski inflates a story ready-made for a brisk Gothic shocker into a bloated, self-important mess.
Somewhere around the middle of the film, one begins to realize it probably isn't going any place worthwhile.
At 90 minutes it could have been an eerie, tricky, well-crafted thriller. At two hours its wheels start to fall off. And then it continues to limp along for another 30 minutes, after which you wonder what the point of it all was in the first place.
Seems to last forever and, when it finally ends, leaves a sour aftertaste of overproduced, overblown schlock.
There is tremendous visual craft and inarguable style here, but none of the discipline, the sense of pacing and proportion that would allow the filmmaker's creative instincts to soar rather than merely splutter.
A deft illustration of the desire for retreatism inspired by the ruthlessness of modern urban life, and the ways that desire can be exploited.
Any movie physician would declare Wellness not healthy enough to stand on its own two feet as horror.
[Director Verbinski] takes the campy dread of Hammer horror films (Horror of Dracula, et alia) and builds it into a a gorgeous, epic assault on anti-immigration sentiments in Europe and elsewhere.
A Cure for Wellness [has] a swell title for a godawful gothic horror flick.