Director: Han Han
Writers: Han Han, Zhou Yunhai, Meng Wenyu
Stars: Teng Shen, Yin Zheng, Wei Xiang

Synopsis: Bearing the glory of being the “King of Bayanbulak,” Zhang Chi once again embarks on his racing journey, aiming not only to win the race but also to achieve something beyond the competition itself.

In the opening scene of Pegasus 3, a montage intricately set to Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now,” the evolution in the directing skills of former rally car driver Han Han is loud and clear. Whereas the first movie in the popular trilogy of Chinese sports films was an aesthetic (and editing) nightmare, Han began to hone in on his capabilities as an artist in the second installment, with more fluid cuts and sharper camerawork, but it wasn’t perfect. In Pegasus 3, he takes criticisms to heart and crafts a final hour of bravura filmmaking so exhilarating it might as well give Joseph Kosinski’s F1 a run for its money. 

The first Pegasus was terrible. The second was much better, but the difference between Pegasus 2 and 3 is night and day. Instead of retreading the same narrative beats as the previous two films, which saw rally car driver Zhang Chi (Teng Shen) stage a comeback in the Bayanbulak race, Han makes everything grander in scale and scope by ditching the central race of the first two films and prepping Zhang and his partner Sun Yuqiang (Yin Zheng) to compete in the MuChen 100. It’s essentially a longer (and more dangerous) version of the Bayanbulak, but it’s undoubtedly the best thing Han has ever directed. 

Old rivalries become friendships, as Zhang discovers that the team that initially brought them on board has been purposefully sabotaging their chances of competing. It gives Zhang, with the aid of Manager Ye (Wei Xiang), the opportunity to plan an intricate finale to get back at the people who have always doubted them at every second. Nothing is truly reinvented from a narrative perspective, most of it is actually plucked from F1 meets Neill Blomkamp’s Gran Turismo, but the aesthetic experience of Pegasus 3 is second-to-none and is well worth the time you’ll spend in a cinema with a sold-out crowd that will erupt in applause by the time Han reaches his final setpiece and consistently dazzles your eyes and ears. 

It does take a while to get there, and the forward-momentum can be slightly hampered by some lethargic pacing, but Han more than compensates with the trilogy’s funniest comedy and a genuinely heartfelt performance from Teng Shen, whose Zhang Chi is more vulnerable than he’s ever been and is still trying to make ends meet, despite retaining the title of “King of Bayanbulak.” In the more talky opening half, we ruminate more with the protagonist as he grapples with what the world of racing means for him and the friends he’s forged along the way, which makes the resulting propulsive energy of its final race more urgent and tangible. 

The final race is where the movie truly comes to life – a staggering hour-long scene where literally anything can happen, and every camera technique you can think of is employed. There isn’t a single moment where my jaw wasn’t on the floor, as we observe Zhang precisely execute his plan, where not even one step can falter. Of course, this being a movie, the inevitable pitfalls do happen, but how he surmounts them is when the movie is at its most dynamic. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a race quite like the one Han visualizes on screen before. The less you know about it, the better, because it takes turns (pun absolutely intended) you will not expect. 

What I can say, however, is that Han draws a cogent message on the use of AI integration and contrasts it with the sheer human willpower of Zhang’s plan. As sophisticated as machines can get, nothing – and I mean nothing – will beat human creativity and feeling. When the inevitable machine vs. human final stretch comes into play, who do you think will come out on top? I could spell it out for you, but the pleasures of watching a film like Pegasus 3 lie in your being transported by Han’s sheer mastery of the visual medium of cinema, who finally shows us the thrills of rally racing in a way no other filmmaker could. It took him several tries for the former racer to get to that point, but one can absolutely say that the third time is indeed the charm.

Grade: A-

Director: Polly Findlay
Writers: Bernard MacLaverty, Nick Payne
Stars: Lesley Manville, Ciarán Hinds, Niamh Cusack

Synopsis: Midwinter Break is a stirring meditation on faith, commitment, and the enduring power of love, as a longtime couple takes a life-changing trip to Amsterdam.

Sometimes, saying nothing at all is more powerful than uttering a word. This was true in Joachim Trier’s (incredible) Sentimental Value, and is the main driving force behind Polly Findlay’s Midwinter Break. Adapting from the book of the same name written by Bernard MacLaverty, Findlay, in her feature directorial debut, thrives in the silence and unspoken words of couple Gerry (Ciarán Hinds) and Stella (Lesley Manville), as the two go on a trip to Amsterdam over the holidays and perhaps fracture their longstanding marriage forever. 

Findlay is best known for her theater work, and she seems to apply the techniques developed in this art form to the medium of film. After all, Midwinter Break is essentially a two-hander between Hinds and Manville as they walk around the streets of Amsterdam and begin to reveal their vulnerabilities throughout their visit. Stella is a devout catholic who feels a close connection to a higher power and is travelling to Amsterdam for ulterior motives Gerry doesn’t know about, but he’s completely oblivious to anything going on since he’s always drinking. To say he has a drinking problem would be an understatement (we see him take his statins with a fairly full glass of whiskey, as an example), which bothers Stella, but she keeps these thoughts to herself. 

There was once love in this couple, but it’s nowhere to be found by the time the film opens. There’s an appreciation, sure, and they don’t mind being together, but the passion at the heart of the marriage is long gone, and has been for at least a decade. We know this because the characters barely look at one another when they’re speaking, and what they’re not saying about themselves reveals more about Gerry and Stella than a litany of extended dialogue scenes, which would’ve turned this filmic object into pure theatrics. 

There might have been a version of Midwinter Break in which MacLaverty’s book was adapted into a play, and the actors would have had to represent their innermost feelings through exaggerated histrionics, which wouldn’t have worked. Findlay keeps everything subdued for the most part and only reveals the reason why both characters have been drifting apart for a long time when the plot truly requires it. When that happens, it’s also the moment where Manville has to monologue in front of someone she has recently met (played by Niamh Cusack) and deliver a powerful gut-punch that will not only linger with you, but repurpose what came before in a genuinely meaningful way. 

Of course, this critic is trying to be (extremely) vague, not revealing what has caused the fractures in Gerry and Stella’s marriage, but I can say that Manville likely gives the best performance of her career in this. It’s a role that thrives on silence, until the unspoken feelings are too hard to bear and Stella must let it all out and reveal it all. When this occurs, it might be hard for you to hold back tears, because the emotions in Manville’s face, which have been built up throughout the film’s brief runtime, all cascade down in a monologue filled with immense, raw power. 

The final scene is also an exemplary demonstration of both Manville and Hinds’ acting talents, as Gerry and Stella reckon with their own beliefs and ask themselves if staying together is truly worth it. I’ll let you discover this incredible sequence on your own, but it’s clear that audiences are sleeping on this simple yet emotionally impactful film that does a lot more by thriving on minimalism and sitting with the two protagonists grappling with an unfulfilled life than by making them speak about these feelings. It might be a little too standard on the filmmaking side, but it also doesn’t need to be flashy. 

That said, the final image will probably stay with you forever, as Gerry and Stella now realize what’s most important about living in a world they don’t understand, and that has brought them massive amounts of pain. When this happens, you might gain a different understanding of your own life and perhaps see the world differently. In any event, don’t let this movie fly off your radar.

Grade: B+

Director: Frank E. Flowers
Writers: Joe Ballarini, Frank E. Flowers
Stars: Priyanka Chopra Jonas, Karl Urban, Safia Oakley-Green

Synopsis: A Caribbean woman gets her secret past revealed when her island is invaded by vicious buccaneers.

The high seas of making a film with pirates aren’t easy to navigate at all. Filmmakers don’t want to make another Cutthroat Island, they want to make another Pirates of the Caribbean. The vacancy of this kind of movie has been reduced to zero with the new film, The Bluff. The Bluff stars Priyanka Chopra Jonas as Ercell Bodde, who is  a housewife who’s awaiting the return of her husband Captain T.H. Bodden (Ismael Cruz Cordova) and his ship’s crew. The two share a son Isaac (Vedanten Naidoo) and T.H. ‘s sister Lizzie (Sofia Oakley-Green). Their home, Cayman Brac, is a little slice of paradise. Locals are able to raise their kids, work, and enjoy the weather every day without interference from others that aren’t welcome. That’s until Captain Connor (Karl Urban) and his men wash ashore searching for something that’s rightfully his.

Chopra Jonas is our lead and she gives a decent performance as Ercell. She doesn’t play her character as a damsel in distress. Ercell gives it her all by fighting these unwanted visitors with guts and grit. Protecting her family is her main priority and if she has to cut men from their upper torso down to their toes, then so be it. Jonas’ background as an actress in Bollywood films has always been one of her strengths as a performer because she’s an absolute pro in action sequences. The first thing I ever saw her in was the ABC series, Quantico. My eyes were fixated on her and the way that she commanded the audience with her beauty and her performance as an action performer.

As the movie goes on, we find out that Ercell has a secret life that she had before her husband came into the picture. She lived a life of swashbuckling and crime after being forced into it as a child by Captain Connor. Connor kidnaps her husband, T.H., after he finds his gold on their ship, they sail back to Cayman Brac, and that’s where the real story begins. Ercell turned into a killer in order to survive on the high seas with Connor. During a battle with others Ercell stabbed him and took his treasure. That brings us back into the present. Chopra Jonas and Urban try to sell the confrontation between the both of them but the blandness of the script doesn’t allow for the two to give us great performances. I know Karl Urban is known for his role as Butcher on The Boys but his acting as a villain in this didn’t make me feel anything. He wasn’t intimidating, scary, or a villain with traits to be frightened by. One thing I did notice was how he was constantly rubbing some sort of drug inside of his mouth. It looked like seaweed but it gave him the energy he needed to fight everyone that wasn’t in his crew. 

Pirate movies were made to be filmed on location. There’s no way that you can capture the magic of an actual island via green screen. It feels very manufactured and cheap when productions shoot beach and island scenes on a soundstage. Director Frank E. Flowers made a great decision to set principal photography in Australia because you feel the authenticity of the landscape. This was definitely a plus for me because they use the location to their advantage as much as they can. The action sequences are all heightened by the location. The cinematography from Greg Baldi was decent when there wasn’t any unnecessary cgi. 

Towards the third act of the movie we’re left with predictable plot points that have been done before, supporting characters with no real development, and some effects that don’t look convincing. While I’m happy to see Priyanka give a better performance than she’s had since Quantico, I really hope that she can pull off a surprising performance in another genre. Karl Urban is just using elements of his performance as The Butcher in The Boys. At this point in his career, I hope that he’s still able to switch things up like Liam Neeson. The Bluff will give audiences a nostalgic feeling of older movies focusing on pirates. Unfortunately, the feeling fades away when they realize that decent action sequences and bad dialogue aren’t enough to push this boat to shore.

Grade: C-

Director: Nick Corirossi
Writers: Nick Corirossi, Armen Weitzman
Stars: Armen Weitzman, Nick Corirossi, Sarah Ramos

Synopsis: Jack Jr, Miles Jr, and the gang are back for one last wine-related journey set forth by the mysterious “Sommelier.” Joined this time by Puck, a fan of The Napa Boys comics, the group will learn about love, loss, friendship, and viticulture.

Who would’ve thought that the ever-growing, multi-million dollar Napa Boys IP would reach its fourth installment, and a spinoff entirely focused on The Napa Girls bowing out in theatres soon? Well, here we are with THE Napa Boys 4: The Sommelier’s Amulet, and fans of the comics – and prior films – will not be disappointed. After Napa Boys 3: Return of the Grape, the franchise had peaked, but somehow director Nick Corirossi has given us a bolder, more thematically rich entry than its predecessor. How he pulled it off feels like a miracle, and yet here we are. 

Of course, I’m joking. The Napa Boys is not part of a franchise, although this movie is introduced as the fourth installment of a longstanding intellectual property and runs with it, which could prove disconcerting for audiences, but is, in actuality, one of the greatest troll jobs I’ve likely ever seen. Not all of it works, and I suspect many will hate this feeble-minded, pea-brained comedy that seems to throw every joke targeted at four-year-olds in a blender and see what sticks. 

Did I laugh? Yes. More than once? You bet. There’s something so stupid about it that your eyes eventually can’t look away, even during a sequence that involves, as a character would mildly put it, “shit and cum.” That scene is definitely the most disgusting, unbelievable thing about this extremely dumb movie, yet its sincerity can’t be overstated. At any moment where you think Corirossi will open up the film to give some texture to the characters, from the sex-crazed Jack Jr. (played by Corirossi himself), the depressed Miles Jr. (Armen Weitzman), or the Napa Boys superfan Puck (Sarah Ramos), who wants to be a part of a group of wine aficionados who travel to Napa County for the Great Grape Festival, he does the exact opposite. 

None of the characters has a modicum of development, nor are they people you’d want to spend time with. They’re all ridiculously selfish, perverse, and completely misogynistic towards any women they meet. That may be why some audiences will be immediately put off by the film’s gross-out humor and attempts at empty provocation, and there definitely are some jokes that don’t land as well as others (sadly, more often than not). Anything revolving around the main antagonist, Squirm (Paul Rust), is a bit more childish than funny, but perhaps that’s the point?

The thing is, this movie is utter nonsense. In fact, it’s pure nonsense, distilled from the nether regions of stupidity. You can’t get any more nonsensical than that. You’re either fully on board with it from the moment it opens and consistently tests your patience, or you aren’t. In my case, I love any good movie that blatantly antagonizes its audience and directly tells them, “You are wasting your time, and we’re going to make sure you realize this,” although it might not be the stroke of genius Corirossi might have hoped for. Still, the visual gags and DIY inventiveness of its filmmaking are as good as Matt Johnson’s Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie, which more than makes up for the movie’s so-so verbal humor. 

That said, there are a number of incredible quotes, such as “Napa Valley is the closest Earthly embodiment of Cesar Catalina’s vision for Megalopolis,” or “Don’t shoot up your school! If there’s anything that ruins the vibe in America, it’s a school shooting.” If this level of dark – almost niche – comedy doesn’t make you laugh, perhaps this thing isn’t for you. However, if you’re a sucker for a generational shitpost, you’ve come to the right place. Everything feels so off, yet the actors are perfectly in tune with the atmosphere they want to convey. They want you to embark on this crazy, nonsensical journey and have a bit of fun, even if it’s likely going to offend many, many people. 

But Corirossi doesn’t care, and neither should you. However, one has to recognize that this movie won’t be for everyone, and there will be critics (and audiences) who will say that The Napa Boys is one of the worst movies ever made. I am not one of those people, even though I appreciate Quentin Dupieux trolls more than this film. Bring on The Napa Boys 5 and The Napa Girls. The world needs real cinema, now more than ever.

Grade: B+

Director: Daniel Chong
Writers: Daniel Chong, Jesse Andrews
Stars: Piper Curda, Bobby Moynihan, Jon Hamm

Synopsis: A 19-year-old animal lover uses technology that places her consciousness into a robotic beaver to uncover mysteries within the animal world beyond her imagination.

Within the recent years of Pixar’s output, the famed animation company hasn’t been “washed” per se, more so in a lull, post the doldrums of the COVID-19 pandemic. Their string of theatrical releases post their three straight-to-Disney+ films have ranged from complete creative and financial misfires like Lightyear to sequel mega hits and struggling new originals like Inside Out 2 and Elio, respectively. While none of their films (besides Lightyear) have been poor in quality, they’ve often missed the spark that made Pixar films so distinct in the first place and have remained in a somewhat average state, which is why a film like Hoppers is so important within its placement in the Pixar catalog. Director Daniel Chong of Cartoon Network fame brings an absurdist charm of heart and humor to the 3D-animated medium that is completely unique to the landscape of Pixar in ways, adding a new flavor to their films that is sorely needed. The film blends an unhinged nature of shock and infectious energy that might throw some off, but Hoppers’ delightful quirks and strong message of unity amongst nature add up to a truly delightful experience and one of the best Pixar films of the current decade.

Hoppers starts its clever premise from the view of our lead, Mabel (Piper Curda), at a young age. Mabel has always longed for nature and protecting the animals of her community to the point of attempting to steal class pets and free them into the wild. She feels her aspirations and care never felt by anyone until she forms a special bond with her grandmother Tanaka (Karen Huie). The two shared a love for animals and the plights of protecting the environment by any means necessary, learning to be at peace with the elements of the world, on top of a glade where they would go to sit and view the world’s beauty each day.

Now in the present day, Mabel is an energetic 19-year-old college student, wanting to make her grandma proud after her unfortunate passing, but protecting their sacred glade from local mayor Jerry Generazzo (Jon Hamm), who is driving animals away from there to complete the construction of a brand new highway for the city of Beaverton. Mabel is stumped on how to stop her plans until she discovers her professor, Dr. Sam (Kathy Najimy), is testing out an experiment she just finalized, where humans can now “hop” their consciousness into incredibly realistic robot animals, allowing the species to connect with one another. Mabel goes rogue with the tech and transfers her mind into a robotic beaver in order to find more beavers and animals alike to help her stop Jerry’s plans, but along her journey, she makes insane discoveries about the animal world that are beyond her wildest dreams.

Hoppers’ log line is just as absurd as the experience of watching the film’s zaniness unfold, but the inherent wild nature of the story is exactly what makes it stand out amongst other Pixar originals. Films like Elio and Elemental had otherworldly premises but lacked a truly compelling hook that made their more compelling angles extremely predictable as their stories unfolded. For some, Hoppers will have the opposite problem of being a bit too unhinged, but that’s what’s so great about it. Chong and writer Jesse Andrews craft such a delightfully unpredictable story that’s intriguing to explore across so many multiple avenues that the bounds of Hoppers’ humor and chaotic energy are distinct in all of the best ways. 

When the story further introduces the world of these and the character of King George (Bobby Moynihan) the humor starts flying a mile per minute with its goofy idiosyncrasies, dark jokes, and conversational humor making it the hardest I’ve laughed at an animated feature in years (always appreciate an Avatar joke), aligning perfectly with the humor of Chong’s Cartoon Network series We Bare Bears, but what ends up even more creative is the use of the hopping technology itself. In many ways, the heightened sci-fi feels like a mix of Back to the Future and Studio Ghibli, and as the hopping between multiple humans and different species of animals escalates, it leads to some of the most wildly deranged series and third acts ever conceived for a Pixar movie, and it only makes Hoppers more of a blast. 

This isn’t to say that Hoppers doesn’t have its fair share of emotional and poignant highs, too, as the film blends its quieter themes and absurd plotbeats beautifully. The film’s connection to themes of preserving our environment and unity amidst our differences is present throughout many films, but the characterization of Mabel, specifically how she feels helpless in multiple sections of the film, is the driving force. Mabel is insanely lively throughout the film, going to great lengths to save the glade, no matter how far things escalate, and she feels the need to do so because a lot of the time it feels like she’s the only one who cares about changing the world for the better. 

I love how much the film delves into not only the complexities of how much you can do to change things within your certain role in the world, but the overarching theme of how nature being what can connect us even through the worst of human conflict as people and animals alike even characters that completely oppose each other like Mabel and Jerry find their own connections by the end. It’s not groundbreaking material, but it represents an emotional core that will resonate with adults and children alike, and Piper Curda’s spirited vocal performance only further elevates that.

Even the film’s animation, despite not being too different from the modern norm, has its own edge to stand out amongst the crowd. Pixar is well renowned for the quality of their film visuals and that remains no different here; the art style lends itself will to louder and wackier moments and touching emotional beats alike and it style showcases that it isn’t afraid that things don’t look nearly as realistic as the animation within other pixar films and it lends itself well to the tonal indications of this world. 

Hoppers fits alongside Turning Red in the Pixar oeuvre, while taking a bigger swing in both style and tone that will inevitably not meld with all viewers, but Hoppers is a welcome change of direction in nearly every avenue for the studio. It’s a weird, chaotic comedy blending emotional nuance and lovely craziness that features the studio at the most creative level they’ve been from a writing perspective. Hoppers is one of the best Pixar films released in the 2020s, and the type of innovative energy that the studio needs more of. A pure delight through and through.

Grade: A-

Director: Rod Blackhurst
Writers: Rod Blackhurst, Brandon Weavil
Stars: Fabianne Therese, Russ Tiller, Michalina Scorzelli

Synopsis: Macy, a young woman, is abducted by a monstrous figure intent on raising her as their own child.

Rod Blackhurst clearly adores Tobe Hooper’s 1974 slasher classic The Texas Chain Saw Massacre and has put all his efforts into making his feature, Dolly, a replica of abject madness in the South. Therein sits the primary issue with Dolly (scripted by Blackhurst and Brandon Weavil). Where Tobe Hooper’s film was in part investigating the economic failures in society that could create a family of cannibals in rural Texas, Blackhurst has no thesis beyond, “There’s a creepy masked killer with a creepy house in the creepy woods with creepy dolls.” And while most would admit that dolls in horror films are indeed creepy, and a killer who wears a porcelain doll’s mask is likely to unsettle, it’s not nearly enough to hang an entire movie on. Yes, Dolly is gore-tastic and will likely make the viewer squirm in places, but even at under 90 minutes there is almost no plot and the plot points given are either irrelevant or scratchings of poorly copied homework.

Split into chapters for no discernible reason, Dolly begins inside the home of the masked menace (Max Lindsey). A giant woman dressed in a red child’s playsuit cutting the fingers off a beheaded corpse. Flies buzz around the body and Dolly’s emotional state is telegraphed by using signs of hand posturing and stimming related to non-verbal autism. It’s one of the film’s greatest sins to decide to project intellectual difference and assumed disability as monstrousness. Yet here we are with it on full display. Dolly’s world is deeply infantilized with dingy floral wallpaper and dirty lace frills meeting shagpile carpet and doll after doll after doll. Dolly’s domain spreads out to the woods where she (presumably) has decorated the forest with her unending collection of vintage fetishes. An open grave is attended by a circle of dolls where the corpse will lay. Dolly is remarkably strong, lifting the body as if it were made of tissue paper. Dolly is “disturbed” yet methodical. Violent in moods, yet able to plan. Dolly is a terribly drawn character – the monster who wants to mother.

Macy (Fabienne Therese) plays with her boyfriend Chase’s (Seann William Scott) daughter Evy (Eve Blackhurst) in a car before he drops her off at his aunt’s house. Chase has plans to propose to Macy on a hiking trip. As Chase is speaking with his Aunt Macy, she is facetiming her sister Rachel (Kate Cobb) about how she’s not sure she wants to be a mom to anyone, especially as their mother was a monster. Macy does adore Chase and Rachel assures her that Macy will be a good mother. Macy’s uncertainty about her ability to mother is plot padding as it doesn’t pay off in any manner. Whatever her mother did is also abandoned as a plot device. The primary take away from this section is Chase is serious about Macy, and she about him, and soon they will be in one of his favorite places, a vast forest where he will ask her to be his wife.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize that this forest is also the forest where Dolly has created a bizarre garden of corpses and doll attendants. Macy and Chase come across the doll forest and Chase notes, “This is new.” Macy takes it all as a joke, or an art project and plays kissy with dolls who could represent Chase and herself. Chase would prefer she didn’t, and they go on to the scenic outlook where he plans to propose. Before he can do so they hear an odd lullaby from a toy radio and Chase decides to investigate. What’s waiting for him is Dolly and her shovel (Leatherface had his chainsaw, Dolly has her shovel). Chase approaches her gently, trying to assist her. For his trouble he is picked up like a doll himself by Dolly (Max Lindsey’s wrestling physicality is used to good effect) choking under Dolly’s grip. Dolly then throws him on the ground and uses the shovel to cut into his leg and then split his mouth so his jaw is hanging only by tendons. 

Macy had jokingly told him not to go off the path but becomes concerned when he doesn’t return. She finds him positioned against a tree and Dolly ready to take her for her own. Although Macy is faster than the lumbering Dolly, she trips and knocks herself out in the woods. When she awakes she is dressed in babydoll clothing and placed in a cradle inside Dolly’s nursery. From that moment on, it’s a fight to the death so Macy can escape her deranged captor who thinks Macy is her baby.

Blackhurst then decides to go full Tobe Hooper madness, although his horror is gynocentric. Big “babygirl” wants to mother little Macy (everyone is little in comparison to Dolly). Any transgression by Macy is met with violence that’s familiar to Dolly. Dolly tries to feed her baby and when Macy refuses slop and the bottle, Dolly pulls out her breast which Macy takes a solid bite from.

It’s unsurprising that Dolly is a result of some tremendous trauma inflicted on her in the backwoods house of horrors. A wheedling voice through the wall (Ethan Suplee) attempts to help Macy get free and Macy, being not the brightest spark, listens to it. Trap after trap must be overcome for Macy to find her way back to civilization, and most of the time it’s pure dumb luck that gets her over the line.

Dolly has some very good practical effects (and some very bad SFX) and the cinematography by Justin Derry shooting on 16mm gives a particular crackle to the proceedings, as does the score by Nick Bohun. However, it barely exists as a script and drags itself from one gross out to the next with no care for the why and how of a narrative. Dolly wants to be a throwback, so much so one of the characters is called Tobe. What Dolly is amounts to very little. Great if you’re after something that acts as a particularly mindless slasher/survival horror. Not so great if you’re after a functioning work that goes beyond the premise of “Dolls, girls, women, mothers… horrifying!” Blackhurst relies on throwing enough blood and bone-cracking around that no one will notice how incredibly slight, hackneyed, and generally offensive his movie is.

Grade: F

Director: Kevin Williamson
Writers: Kevin Williamson, Guy Busick, James Vanderbilt
Stars: Neve Campbell, Courteney Cox, Isabel May

Synopsis: When a new Ghostface killer emerges in the town where Sidney Prescott has built a new life, her darkest fears are realized as her daughter becomes the next target.

The next chapter in the Scream franchise is not horrendous. It is certainly not great, just eye-openingly unpleasant and, at times, lazy. The 2022 relaunch recaptured what made the original films clever, addictive, and humorously meta, a rare horror film that was in on the joke and always smarter than its built-in audience. However, the filmmakers never looked down their noses at the fanbase or the genre’s staples.

That’s what makes Scream 7 so disappointing. The madman behind the slasher horror phenomenon, Kevin Williamson (I Know What You Did Last Summer), finally steps behind the camera after writing the original thirty years ago. Williamson co-wrote the script with Guy Busick, whose breakout script for Ready or Not, like Scream decades earlier, reinvented the horror genre with staggering results.

Yet, Scream 7 has no laughs, comic relief, or magnetic appeal. The slasher scenes are tepid, lacking cleverness, and settling for brute brutality without emotional stakes. The plotting is vapid, the tone is all over the place, and the self-referential humor is now a distant memory. The final product is hubristic, displaying an unearned confidence rooted in the names on the marquee and an intellectual property that has reached creative exhaustion. 

Another point of contention is that the opening scene, a franchise staple, does nothing to set up the movie other than serve as a red herring. A true-crime superfan, Scott (Jimmy Tatro), and his girlfriend, Madison (Landman’s Michelle Randolph), visit the site of the gruesome murders at Stu Macher’s (The Life of Chuck’s Matthew Lillard) residence. Scott retells a rumor that Stu may still be alive, roaming the area after having his head smashed in by a television set.

The scene is lazy, not to mention narratively untethered, creating a hollow inciting tease. (After watching the movie, you’ll understand there is no reason for the sequence to exist.) This leads to the return of Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell), who is raising her family in Pine Grove. Sidney is married to Mark (Joel McHale) and is trying to keep their daughter, Tatum (Isabel May), from letting her boyfriend (The Fabelmans’ Sam Rechner) sneak into the house at night.

From there, the film becomes rinse-and-repeat well past the point of nostalgia. Sidney receives a phone call from Ghostface. There is a slight twist here that I will skip to avoid spoilers. The infamous villain tells their old friend that they are about to murder her daughter at school. The script still operates on the basic principle that, in this day and age, no cloud-based surveillance systems, cell phone tracking, or even plain old locks on doors exist.

There are very few surprises in the latest chapter of Scream, which had to find a new trajectory after Melissa Barrera was let go after social media posts about the Israel-Hamas war, and Jenna Ortega left after the franchise pivot. That would be like taking the original without Sydney and Gale Weathers (Courtney Cox). The result is a paint by the bloody numbers brutality that does not have nearly enough fun with the script as it should.

Williamson and Busick’s script settles into a tired rhythm. They set up a killing, insert nostalgic callbacks to previous chapters, then repeat. All scenes are so loosely connected, the film unfolds like a first draft, or so is chopped from cast changes, comes across as stitched together storyboard. In addition, the big reveal of who the killer is is easily the biggest letdown and is nothing more than a tribute-killing trope. 

The ending combines two clichés from hour-long dramas. First, if you’ve watched movies as long as I have, you know that when a recognizable actor from the 2000s appears in a small role, they’re part of the plot. Then there’s the eye-rolling reveal of a close family friend, which is something anyone can see coming. It’s remarkable how little thought went into the execution, with ineptitude masked by one gruesome killing.

Scream 7 is a chapter that betrays the slasher thriller’s legacy. A franchise that taught multiple generations how to survive a horror film now outlines how to leave one behind, and without regret. 

You can watch Scream 7 only in theaters starting February 27th!

Grade: D+

Director: Tamika Miller
Writers: Anita M. Cal, Tamika Miller
Stars: Wanda Sykes, William Stanford Davis, Bentley Green

Synopsis: A boxing trainer re-connects with the son she abandoned.

The majority of boxing movies focus on the fighters. That’s where the drama is built from, a boxer’s need to win and to prove their worth. They bring everything from their lives into that ring and we watch them work their bodies and lives into shape. The heart of the fighter is what we come to see. Even though the trainer is an important piece of that puzzle, they’re a mentor and a guide and their troubles only serve to motivate the boxer. What the filmmakers of Undercard do to great effect is to show us the complicated life of a person who was in that ring and now teaches others to survive. This film is the inner life of someone who’s no longer in the spotlight and the toll that takes. It’s a hard role to make compelling.

When a comedian makes the shift from comedy to drama there will almost always be a bit of incredulity at first, but as quick and hilarious as Wanda Sykes is, there’s no doubt she has the gravitas for drama. Her performance in Undercard never feels like she’s acting. For the whole film, the actor we know is completely transformed through body language and an imposing presence. Sykes is able to command the screen with her willingness to lay herself bare. It’s a very raw role and one that can’t be hidden behind a large cast. Sykes proves she has the moves to go toe-to-toe with anyone and everyone. This story needed an actress like her to make it compelling.

Undercard is a unique take on a redemption story. Cheryl (Sykes), who earned the fighting nickname “No Mercy,” is not just down on her luck, but battling more demons than just that of the ignominious end to her career. She’s not like other aged fighters who feel their only shot at creating a legacy is fighting for themselves. Cheryl understands her skill is more powerful when she can train others to fight like she does. The conflict lies in keeping her past from encroaching on and debilitating her present. Writers Anita M. Cal and Tamika Miller, who also directed, created a story that has depth and history to it. It’s more than a sports drama. Undercard uses sports as a way to tell a harrowing domestic drama. The layers and twists and turns of the story are as riveting as the way the film plays visually.

One of the most intriguing aspects of the film is the way the boxing scenes are shot. Director Miller and cinematographer Ana M. Amortegui shot most of the action from outside the ring. Not just overhead or at the level of the ring itself, but from below, where the trainers stand. These shots remind us that as much as it is Keith’s (Bentley Green) or Kordell’s (Xavier Mills) fight to win, it’s Cheryl who has everything riding on their success. This combined with the brilliant move to have Cheryl, Baba T (William Stanford Davis), and Hector (Berto Colon) completely audible during the fight, doling out advice, puts us squarely in their perspective.

If the film has a fault, it is in its antagonists. In some ways Hector functions as a bit of comic relief, but his need to refer to himself in the third person is at first confusing, then a little silly, and ends up being kind of annoying. The same goes for the very arch presentation of sleazy all-powerful boxing promoter, Bob Fox (Danny Pardo). He’s so smarmy and moustache twirling that it wouldn’t surprise us to see him lighting his cigar with a hundred dollar bill while laughing maniacally.

Even with these missteps in character, Undercard is a good boxing movie. Not only that, but it is a great domestic drama that uses boxing as a crucial common ground for Cheryl to try and make amends for the worst mistakes of her life. The performances are excellent and the story is very moving. It has a depth and emotional heft that most boxing movies can’t compete with. It’s a film well worth seeing and getting immersed in.

Grade: B

Director: Zhang Yimou
Writer: Liang Chen
Stars: Jackson Yee, Zhu Yilong, Song Jia

Synopsis: Vital intelligence leaked. The national security team vowed to find the traitor, but arrests failed repeatedly. As tension mounted, suspicion turned inward to the team itself. A silent battle unfolded amid trust and betrayal.

There may never be a better example of the sentence “when you find out your goat washed” than in watching Zhang Yimou’s Scare Out, a film whose questionable politics are the least of its problems, because every single aesthetic choice made by one of the most prolific Chinese filmmakers working today completely sinks this entire thing. It’s even baffling to wonder how the same guy who gave us the staggering works of art of Hero, House of the Flying Daggers, and Shadow could ever direct something this incompetent, where every attempt at dazzling the audience through a series of intricate stylistic flourishes goes catastrophically wrong. 

Even Zhang’s most recent works, while imperfect, didn’t look (or feel) this sloppy. This is truly something to behold. One may even be tempted to watch this to see how such a great visual artist could stoop so low, especially a few years after the incredible Full River Red (which also starred Jackson Yee), but I’m here to tell you all to avoid it altogether. Zhang has rarely disappointed, and less so in the visual department (The Great Wall, while terrible, looks immaculate in IMAX 3D). This is a complete disaster right from the get-go, which attempts to blend the digital textures of Michael Mann’s Blackhat and Michael Bay’s Ambulance, alongside a galaxy-brained approach to Tony Scott’s Enemy of the State. Yet, none of its filmmaking inspirations feel earnest in any way, or as exciting as when Zhang meaningfully paints with his camera and crafts tableaux the likes of which you’ve likely never seen anywhere else. 

This is a film where one single artistic choice – hyperactive editing – ruins everything. I don’t want to sound hyperbolic, but Scare Out is likely the worst-edited film I’ve ever seen, trumping Olivier Megaton’s TAK3N by a country mile. In fact, that film is smartly edited and looks coherent compared to this trainwreck. For reasons I can’t explain, which bear no meaning to the paranoia Zhang wants to instill in the story of two security officers (played by Jackson Yee and Zhu Yilong) who are suspected of being a mole after crucial intelligence leaks outside their purview, the movie is edited as if someone wanted to break the world record of most nonsensical cuts during a film. 

Here’s an example: instead of cutting a typical foot chase in a relatively standard fashion, which would mean intercutting between the antagonist running away from the people chasing him, and the point of view of the protagonists, which would create a sense of rhythm within the action, Zhang cuts within the scene. This means that in the middle of a shot where the supposed good guys are running, he’ll cut to nowhere (he’s basically showing the same frame split twice), and often weirdly zoom into a given character, not with his camera, but with the digital tools of his editing software. This creates awkward, unnatural compositions that are always hampered by the most random cuts at any given occasion. It never allows the audience to sit with anyone or anything, because no one can actively discern what’s happening. The lyricism that defines Zhang’s work is completely gone. 

Scare Out moves at a mile-a-minute pace without ever making the threat (or the “scaring out” of who the mole may be) urgent enough for the good guys to find the plant before more information is leaked. Only an inexplicable phone explosion, which comes out of left field, brought me the biggest laugh of any film I’ve seen this year so far. That must be seen to be believed, but should you trudge through at least an hour and a half before you get to this point? That’s debatable…

As far as the rest is concerned, Zhang can’t muster up interest in this thriller devoid of any dramatic tension and political intrigue. It almost feels like you’re watching an extended episode of an elongated soap opera, complete with ridiculous wigs, bludgeoning string-heavy music that tells the audience when a big moment is coming, and twists that make little sense as the movie progresses. Instead of homing in on one specific plot point, which is finding a mole who may be a part of a shadowy organization that could be much vaster than he thinks, Zhang adds several nonsensical reveals that turns this self-serious conspiracy picture into a pure farce, one whose last scene landed with such a thud its almost sold-out crowd laughed at how preposterous the whole thing was. 

That’s also how I would describe the entire viewing experience of this profoundly perplexing motion picture by a once-great artist who has now fully become a mouthpiece for government propaganda. The signs were there in his post-Coming Home films, but they’ve reached their apotheosis inScare Out, a movie that has completely removed the modicum of artistic imprint that was left after Full River Red, as Zhang has now embarked on a “for-hire” era of painfully unremarkable pictures that the Western world will completely ignore, except this critic who longs for the return of his great masterworks. Maybe he’s got one more left in him, but today is not that day.

Grade: F