Director: Dylan Meyer
Writer: Dylan Meyer
Stars: Kristen Stewart, Alia Shawkat, Cate Blanchett

Synopsis: Two aimless young women inadvertently gain telepathic abilities after ingesting an experimental drug, pitting them against dangerous rivals pursuing the same powerful substance.

Why did Hollywood stop making stoner comedies? Once a staple of the early 2000s, films such as Grandma’s Boy and Pineapple Express proved that audiences were looking for a friendship film with a hazy flair. They offer an abundance of laughs, quotable moments, and original stories that resonate with broader audiences. Thankfully, The Wrong Girls enters the genre at just the right time, and it is a blazing blast. With Kristen Stewart’s cool girl charm and Alia Shawkat’s easygoing comedic timing, The Wrong Girls is the female friendship film of my stoner dreams.

It’s a rather straightforward story by writer and director Dylan Meyer: two roommates with their cats living in a rented house they have dubbed their chill zone. There’s the munchie chef Molly (Shawkat), who manages spreadsheets (poorly) for cash while spending her free time creating her wildest stoner snacks. Frankie (Stewart) is a college dropout, working for a delivery company with a joint hanging out of her mouth. Neither woman is highly motivated; they don’t even earn enough to cover their rent without extensions from their landlord, Jose (Chris Estrada). The film opens with them taking long hits from the masterful glassware that Frankie creates using her engineering skills. From the start, their laid-back, chilled-out personas pull you into a wild trip as the pair have to find a way to make their rent or be thrown to the streets.

When Molly’s boyfriend Josh (Zack Fox) wants her to live her dream of becoming a chef and move in with him, the best friend dynamic shifts. At the same time, Frankie learns that her ex has replaced her with Frances (Kristen Stewart, also), who looks identical to her. They look so much alike that Not Metal Head Dave (LaKeith Stanfield) mistakes Frankie for Frances and hands off an incredibly important briefcase that holds the answer to Frankie’s money woes, or so she thinks. Meyer has all the pieces of a stoner classic on the board, and The Wrong Girls goes from a buddy comedy starring two lovable potheads into a psionic test of loyalty.

It’s hard not to see yourself in either roommate’s shoes; it’s the life everyone has wanted to live at least once. Eating junk food all day with your best friend and smoking weed together while living under the same roof. Getting baked while watching Shark Week, or taste-testing a new culinary concoction that only the inebriated mind can create. Barely making enough to get by but loving every minute of it, there’s no doubt that both Molly and Frankie share a bond that goes beyond a regular friendship. They are inseparable; it’s almost as if they share the same mind, split between two bodies. A sisterly connection that comes naturally to both Stewart and Shawat; it helps that both already genuinely exude a chill girl vibe as is. Their chemistry is what elevates the film from good to great, especially when the pair has to deliver their lines telepathically. It’s hard to see the film working with any other talent in Stewart’s shoes, especially given her performance, which leaves a yearning for more comedy roles.

The Wrong Girls is a refreshing expression of female friendship and of embracing the imperfections of even those who are dearest to us. Yet, the film spends a lot of time insulting Molly and Frankie. Meyer makes it a point to have Molly and Frankie called out several times for being “stupid stoner chicks,” even to the film’s detriment, and it’s the biggest blemish on it. The choices the pair make are definitely facepalm-worthy, but it’s part of the cartoonish humor that comes with the genre. Audiences go into the film knowing the humor will be dumb and silly at times; constantly calling out their choices for that feels redundant. Especially when each scenario the pair are faced with (in their journey to make cash from their mysterious briefcase filled with pink drugs) is that much more hilarious, as the tables turn on those who doubt their stoner powers. Still, the overwhelming insults hurled their way start to become distracting; luckily, they fizzle out right when they become most irritating.

Visually, there’s a signature absurdist nature to The Wrong Girls that is seen from the designs of the chill zone to the clothing each character wears. This is especially evident from the use of bright colors that illuminate the trippiest parts of taking psychedelics, and distorting wide angles. There’s an atmosphere created that makes us question if these things are really happening or if they’re just the imagination of two women who take their fair share of drugs. Todd Banhazl, the film’s cinematographer, captures their dreamlike states as their buzz creeps in, in a place that makes it hard to want to stay sober. Frankie and Molly are styled to reflect their personalities: Frankie likes to wear band T-shirts and has a thin layer of grime in her hair. Molly dons more colorful pieces that glow brightly with the film’s use of neon lights. Each visual element pairs well with the others, elevating it beyond just another comedy film.

While the film’s humor won’t be for everyone, it is more in line with comedy like Superbad; there’s no doubt it has aged. With recreational use legal in many states, the need for counterculture mid-budget films fell off. It’s no longer taboo to talk about using marijuana, and it’s not uncommon to see it in public anymore. But for people who grew up with those films and embraced their themes, The Wrong Girls will more than likely be a hit. Admittedly, some of the film’s bits go on too long, like random dance numbers or telepathic back-and-forths. Meyer juggles a lot within her script; it all mostly works until you’re in the third act of the film waiting for the punchlines to roll. When she is displaying the perks of female friendship with a chronic twist, she knocks it out of the park, but as the film delves into increasingly wild predicaments, like car shootouts, it suffers most.

Overall, summer should feature more films like this, original mid-budget comedies for adults. Stewart and Shawat will hopefully usher in a new wave of stoner comedies that place broke 30-something cat-mom girl failures at the forefront. For her first feature, Meyer’s The Wrong Girls is ambitious; though it’s far from perfect, it’s a breath of dank air.

Grade: B

Director: Jean-François Richet
Writer: J.P. Davis, Lindsay Michel
Stars: Jason Statham, Annabelle Wallis, Adrian Lester

Synopsis: After his billionaire industrialist boss is murdered in front of him, Cole Reed is set up to take the fall for the crime — leaving him on the run as he works to uncover an international conspiracy.

I remember my grandparents once telling me that if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all. So, let me start here: if you have 90 minutes to waste, there are certainly worse ways to spend them than watching Jason Statham’s latest. Unfortunately, I’m also obligated to point out the ineptitude and laziness of Mutiny.

And if Grandpa Frank is looking down at me today, I’d remind him that when he gave me that advice, he never had to sit through a Statham-by-the-numbers action picture that is anything but spectacular. So much for smooth sailing, as the viewer has no choice but to go overboard, and even the most passionate Statham supporters have no choice but to abandon ship.

Yes, you know exactly what you’re getting in a Jason Statham thriller like Mutiny. The modern-day Steven Seagal, minus the obligatory environmental message and slapfighting, has produced his own brand of action-movie comfort food: inane plot points, generic characterizations, and the same tried-and-true recipe. 

Unfortunately, “Handsome Rob’s” latest formula is a New Coke version, not the classic. To illustrate the point, a scene in Mutiny is so laughable and befuddling that it shows how little the filmmakers respect their audience. In the scene, the villain knows Statham’s character is going to create a diversion. The foe knows the hero has to get to the bridge.

Why? Simple: to contact the authorities. It’s the one place they can do it. Even the high-seas menace says out loud that he knows exactly why the diversion is happening. Yet, all the bad guys run off in search of the dangerous Mr. Clean, leaving just one villain to guard the freighter’s communications deck, the sole connection to the outside world.

Mutiny is that kind of film. The script, from Lindsay Michel (Sandpiper) and J. P. Davis (Plane), offers your standard action fare. Statham plays Cole Reed, a former London police officer who also served in the British Army’s Special Forces. Reed comes from a long line of cops but lost his job after failing to play the political game necessary to climb the bureaucratic ladder.

Cole works as a personal bodyguard for Tibu (Ramon Tikaram, of the upcoming The Magic Faraway Tree), a wealthy billionaire industrialist and shipping tycoon. Tibu considers Cole family after he saved his life five years earlier. Reed plays chess with Tibu nightly and even gifts him a Rolex for his retirement.

Tibu has decided to sell the business so his son, Kameron (Black Narcissus’s Chaneil Kular), can pursue his own path. Which, frankly, makes no sense. Tibu is a billionaire. He can fund his son’s dreams and still keep his baby. But then we wouldn’t have a plot point to move the story along excruciatingly, painfully.

If you watched the trailer, you know what happens next. It is pretty obvious who is involved, making it painfully clear you just have to add or subtract who was there. Statham’s character then heads to one of Tebu’s ships, on flimsy evidence, to seek vengeance, where he finds Angie (Annabelle Wallis), a last-minute addition to the crew, who tags along for the ride. 

Mutiny is from Jean-François Richet, whose Plane is one of the most overrated action films in recent memory. The film here is incredibly predictable, with some bone-crunching action in between to pass the time. The rest of the film, like the scene described above, is plot-induced incompetence, idiot logic, and artificial jeopardy. 

A handful of scenes are like the one described above. For one, after Cole rescues a group of human-trafficking victims, he tells them not to wait for him and to leave immediately. He takes off, and at least ten minutes pass. Yet, in a later scene, no more than 20 people are somehow still piling into a lifeboat, allowing the villains to catch up and recapture them.

By then, the group could have floated by the Statue of Liberty. But again, Mutiny is that kind of film, one that asks you to ignore cinematic incompetence to watch Statham break bones and end lives. Yes, the genre is deliberately formulaic, but for a Statham film, this has a remarkable blind spot for polishing all the absurdity. 

You can watch Mutiny exclusively in theaters starting August 21st!

Grade: D+

Director: Cato Kusters
Writers: Cato Kusters, Angelo Tijssens
Stars: Nina Meurisse, Laurence Roothooft, Rosalia Cuevas

Synopsis: Fleur and Julian fall madly in love and decide to get married in all countries where they, as two women, are allowed to do so. After only four marriages, their journey comes to a painful and unexpected halt.

It has only been 25 years since the first nation, the Netherlands, legalized same sex marriage. In the United States, federal recognition, not just individual state recognition, has only existed for 11 years. Since the year 2001, of the 195 recognized nations of the world, 38 recognize legal protections for same sex marriage. It’s heart breaking to know that the majority of the world views the commitment of two people as a political or heretical act more than a human and philosophical right. It’s heart breaking to see that, in spite of their efforts, Fleur (Nina Meurisse) and Julian (Laurence Roothooft) never got to realize their goal of fully raising awareness of marriage equality by getting married in each country that would allow them to do so.

The film, Julian, is based on the book of the same name, written by Fleur Pierets. While the book is about the endeavor of a real project, the film never feels more like a civil rights drama than a love story. For drama’s sake there are mentions and moments of the news and progress of the project, but the story of Julian and Fleur is the most important piece and it shows throughout. This is thanks to the script by director Cato Kusters and Angelo Tijssens, which leaves room for deep breaths and long drinks of a happy couple. 

We feel the love of these two in the pauses and in the quiet moments. Some of the best filmed scenes have little to no dialogue at all. Kusters, along with cinematographer Michel Rosendaal, find beautiful moments of light and shadow to linger on our couple. So much of the film is in close up or in a cozy hug of nearness. It feels like we’re being held and like we’re searching our lover’s face and finding nothing, but yearning and joy in it. It’s a beautifully shot film that drives right to our hearts.

In a quiet, but impactful scene, we have our couple at the waterfront in New York City. They’re there for wedding number three and it’s a bit of a logistical nightmare. Fleur, the workaholic, is formulating, tabulating, and ruminating on all that has to be done. Julian, the romantic, gets Fleur to see that work can wait because they are together in a beautiful city and they’re allowed to enjoy it. The two of them stand at a railing, Fleur in front, Julian behind. The light of the sunset plays on their faces and Julian motions toward another couple and expounds on how much she hopes for a love like that. Fleur laughs at being compared to a duck. The camera lingers on them as they laugh and snuggle together.

Julian is a film that captures a relationship so beautifully and the way in which a relationship will play in our minds afterwards. This play on memory lends itself to non-linear storytelling. We begin with the first meeting and fast forward to preparations for Fleur’s solo lecture after Julian’s death. The film weaves us through memory and time not as a device that makes the story more interesting than if it were linear, but in a way of Fleur reckoning with her own understanding of her relationship with Julian. It helps us understand too that Fleur’s words to a dying Julian weren’t just lip service. She is honoring, remembering, and loving Julian, but in a way that makes logical sense to her, as her memories flood in like the clips from the camera they used to film parts of their life together.

Julian is heartbreaking at the same time as it is heart lifting. The project, even unfinished, is a testament to what these two women firmly believed in. Yet, it’s also so much about love, pure and simple. The deep affection and need is palpable in every second of this film. It doesn’t wallow or sit still, but it breathes with us, communes with our hearts, and keeps us in a daze of light and happiness even amongst the tears. Julian is a beautiful film in every way imaginable.

Grade: A

Director: Antonin Baudry
Writers: Antonin Baudry, Bérénice Vila
Stars: Simon Abkarian, Simon Russell Beale, Benoît Magimel

Synopsis: June, 1940. France collapses and signs the armistice. In the midst of the chaos, one man refuses to give up. Alone against the odds, this unknown general flees to London to save what remains of freedom.

Antonin Baudry’s De Gaulle: Résistance, the first in a two-part epic based on Julian Jackson’s “De Gaulle: Une certaine idée de la France,” Marvelizes a figure whose role in history remains the subject of controversy. Some laud the general-turned-President as a hero; others vilify his policies and style of governance. The film, of course, refuses to interrogate any of it. Some audience members will likely dismiss it as nothing more than “propaganda,” and they would be correct to think so. After all, glorifying such a figure without ever attempting to examine the thought behind his decisions seems strange, but at least most of its star-studded cast will repeat “LA FRANCE!” a thousand times to reinforce the sentiment of patriotism seeping across the country, right? Right?!??

The Marvel comparisons are exacerbated when, later in the movie, as French resistance protestors Fernand Bonnier de La Chapelle (Florian Lesieur) and Olivia (Anamaria Vartolomei) must flee Paris after the Nazis overtake a protest on November 11, Jean Moulin (Félix Kysyl) is introduced as if he’s Nick Fury. I was almost waiting for the “Jean Moulin will return in Moulin” tagline after the film’s post-credits scene (yes, there’s a post-credits scene, I’m not joking) to link this interpretation of the resistance hero to Gilles Lellouche’s portrayal in László Nemes’ upcoming film, but that didn’t happen. 

Of course, the bulk of a “Part One” will mean lots of table-setting and exposition before the (likely) action-heavy second part, and that is what Résistance (mostly) delivers. A good chunk of the film examines the power relations between a once-unknown Charles de Gaulle (Simon Abkarian) and Winston Churchill (Simon Russell Beale), who doesn’t know whether he should unquestioningly trust the general’s instincts in the wake of France’s capitulation. Its Head of State, Philippe Pétain (Alain Libolt), and his second-in-command, François Darlan (Mathieu Kassovitz), have succumbed to Nazism and are now working hand-in-hand with Hitler to integrate the party’s core ideologies within France. 

Churchill is, of course, strongly opposed to Hitler’s totalitarian reign and the Nazi ideology as a whole. He is looking for allies across all countries. However, the United States President, Franklin D. Roosevelt (Campbell Scott), wants no part in the war, and most governments believed the Germans would win World War II and capitulated. De Gaulle is the Prime Minister’s last hope, but his methods in toppling the Vichy government to liberate France are complex and unorthodox. 

We thus get a fairly sanitized examination of De Gaulle’s methods, alongside frictions between the United Kingdom and France, as the general’s actions may very well put the future of the war in jeopardy. Simultaneously, we examine the story of Fernand, an anti-Vichy protester and member of the French resistance whose disdain for the country’s current authoritarian government will ultimately lead him to assassinate Darlan, resulting in his execution. This event removed a massive hurdle for the Allies and ultimately led to De Gaulle becoming the leader of Free France, though this part is reserved for the second installment. 

Most of the first part occurs through tense, closed-door conversations between Churchill and De Gaulle, as the general’s actions don’t seem any closer to ending the war. These conversations are of varying quality, but the one undeniable thing is how great its massive ensemble is. Abkarian impresses as De Gaulle, perfectly embodying his stern mentality even during times of great uncertainty. There’s a certain stoicism to his performance that feels as if De Gaulle was brought back to life; the intonations of his words always feel urgent and necessary, as composer Volker Bertelmann reheats his All Quiet on the Western Front and Conclave nachos (yet again) to draw pressure-cooker compositions even when there’s no “action” on screen. 

Even with the same string-heavy patterns as his most recent scores (hopefully, Clayface will be different), Bertelmann’s music still punctuates the film’s images well, which are of sweeping grandeur and scale. In an era where American blockbusters look smaller in scale and have the ugliest possible aesthetics, Antonin Baudry reminds us all what a massive motion picture should not only look, but feel like. The film’s final battle in Bir Hakeim is what the French call “un grand morceau de bravoure,” because the sense of scope and immediacy that such a scene evokes is genuinely awe-inspiring. Baudry also doesn’t shy away from showing the brutal, inhumane, cost of war, even if he’ll occasionally veer into jingoism, especially when “LA FRANCE!” is screamed and repeated ad nauseam. 

The climax sets the table for what’s to come, which, from the looks of its post-credits trailer, will be much grander (and more patriotic) than this drawn-out, but admittedly entertaining first part. One can complain that the movie does feel very much in the line of modern-day propaganda pieces such as Tsui Hark, Chen Kaige and Dante Lam’s The Battle at Lake Changjin diptych, but the thing is: there’s enough here that feels more like a real movie than something so blatantly nationalistic. There’s texture in the character work. The performances are genuinely impassioned. The action scenes have genuine scale and clarity. The tension is simmering, and the exchanges between diplomatic figures cut deep. It sometimes veers into dull nationalism, but never to the detriment of the film’s emotional experience. 

When the credits ultimately rolled, the question that was at the back of my mind was simple: will I return to the cinema next month for Part II: Liberté? No hesitation that I will be there, and I assume the Québec audience will also fly out in droves, considering how packed my 2 pm public showing of the film was on a bright, sunny Friday afternoon…

Grade: B-

Director: Julia Hart
Writers: Laura Hankin, Julia Hart, Jordan Horowitz
Stars: Sunny Sandler, Melanie Lynskey, Stephanie Beatriz

Synopsis: Sophie Birenbaum is ready for the spotlight as the lead in her high school musical — until suddenly she’s living with even more drama at home than on the stage.

I cannot remember a movie from Happy Madison Productions like Don’t Say Good Luck, this heartfelt, this poignant, or this beautifully done. We are talking about a company that has given us some of the quintessential sophomoric comedies, from Happy Gilmore and The Waterboy to films Adam Sandler made for his friends, like Grandma’s Boy and the Deuce Bigelow franchise.

Yet, a funny thing happened a couple of years ago when Sandler made You Are So Not Invited to My Bat Mitzvah. That family affair was sweet, unlike anything the brand had made before, while still carrying dashes of Sandler’s comedic sensibilities. However, with Don’t Say Good Luck, he has produced something entirely different: something wonderful, tragic, and deeply moving.

Yes, Don’t Say Good Luck isn’t as intimate in nature as Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.

nor does it capture the coming-of-age awkwardness of Eighth Grade or the visceral antipathy of the mother-daughter dynamic in Lady Bird. However, this Netflix film is so heartfelt and grounded that it makes you appreciate what you have or long for what you don’t.

The story follows Sophie Birenbaum (Sunny Sandler, wonderful here), a seventeen-year-old shy theater kid who tries to win a small part in her high school’s production of “Waitress.” Sophie is the oldest daughter of Elizabeth (Melanie Lynskey of Heavenly Creatures fame) and Ted (New Girl’s Max Greenfield), who are also raising her rambunctious young twin brothers.

However, Sophie’s parents, in a charming and poignant running bit throughout the film, have a habit of accidentally calling their daughter. One of those times, Sophie picks up and hears something she was never meant to hear: her mother’s cancer has returned. She calls her best friend (Scarlett Estevez), and her grandparents (Bebe Neuwirth, Steve Buscemi) come to help.

Ted runs a local delicatessen, making it a family affair. Sophie comes running in to announce that, with the support of her teacher (Stephanie Beatriz), she has landed the coveted lead role. Soon, she is paired with the theater heartthrob (Avatar: Fire and Ash’s Jack Champion), navigating the awkwardness of coming-of-age just as her mother’s health begins to deteriorate.

Don’t Say Good Luck comes from director Julia Hart, who wrote and directed the criminally underseen streaming crime thriller I’m Your Woman. Hart co-wrote the script with Laura Hankin and La La Land producer Jordan Horowitz, with the story reportedly inspired by Hankin’s own life. Hankin, an acclaimed novelist, makes her first screenplay, where the characters feel lived-in.

In a coming-of-age drama, it is unusual to see teenage life portrayed with so little sensationalism. Sophie’s parents and grandparents don’t threaten the teenage boy dating their daughter. The kids are empathetic, treating each other with respect and kindness. Where another film might turn a friend spending more time dating into a major rift, here, fences are mended with tenderness and care.

A clever storytelling trick is that much of the anxiety and conflict surrounding her mother’s deteriorating condition plays out in the background whenever Sophie puts on her headphones. The most critical moments where family members snap at each other happen with Neuwirth’s character, whose anxiety about her daughter’s health is understandable. 

Also, there is a scene where Sophie becomes angry that her mother cannot see her performance. Some may be quick to call the teenager selfish. However, what they may fail to understand is that this is a young woman projecting her fear and anxiety over the possibility of losing her mother. Over the course of the movie, the screenplay connects these two perspectives. 

Lynskey’s performance shows viewers the profound selflessness of motherhood. This being a Netflix film, it is a genre picture, designed to pull at your heartstrings and build to a finale designed to open the waterworks. Or at the very least, put a giant-sized lump in your throat. This isn’t a raw look at cancer like in Our Friend. This is designed to be a tearjerker, but not a shameless one. 

Hart, Hankin, and Horowitz’s film is indeed a tearjerker, but unlike many others, it knows exactly which emotional buttons to push and earns every single one of them. Sunny Sandler steals the show in the finale, as a warm family film gives way to inevitable sorrow. Yet it’s the moments lived in between that make life worth living, in a story about a young woman finding her voice, guided by love, by family, and, to a point, by community. 

You can stream Don’t Say Good Luck exclusively on Netflix August 13th!

Grade: A-

Director: Cal Brunker
Writers: Cal Brunker, Bob Barlen
Stars: Carter Young, Mckenna Grace, Ron Pardo

Synopsis: The Paw Patrol lands on a mysterious dinosaur island after a storm, where they meet Rex, a stranded pup. When Humdinger’s reckless mining triggers a volcano, the team faces their biggest rescue mission yet to save the island.

Perhaps I’m not the right person to be reviewing PAW Patrol: The Dino Movie, because this isn’t really an animated film destined for a broad audience. It’s only going to function as something truly entertaining if you’re under the age of 3 (or maybe 2). Anyone else might be too old for such a coddling adventure film that takes zero screenwriting (or thematic) risks and is so easy-to-follow you don’t even need to pay attention half of the time, because the film will constantly tell you what’s going on. 

If you’re a parent, though, you might be asking yourself the following question: should I bring my child to the cinema to see this? After all, there probably isn’t a more exciting outing for kids than the movie theater, where they can munch on popcorn and be wowed by the transformative power of the silver screen. Perhaps they will run in the aisles and begin talking loudly during the movie, but they will learn valuable lessons on how to behave in public spaces, and the cinema is probably the best place for them to know how to watch – and appreciate – a movie with an audience. 

The core problem at the heart of PAW Patrol: The Dino Movie is how adult viewers will probably be bored out of their minds watching this. It’s easy to say “I’ll bring my kid to this film,” but the thing is: you have to watch the movie, too. In many cases, studios understand that mainstream animated movies should be for a broad audience, because parents are seeing the film with their children. In the case of PAW Patrol, it’s hard to see a parent enjoying a movie that won’t activate their inner child, because it will only stimulate audiences that don’t really know how to watch something on a screen just yet. 

This is a film that one can easily watch in the comfort of their living room and understand what’s going on in the background instead of having your full attention directed towards it. Director Cal Brunker will show you something – a ravine filled with water that could stop the eruption of a long-dormant volcano – and will have a character say “I must get to this waterfall to stop the lava!” or something along those lines. I’m not trying to denigrate the film at all, but this is truly a product for babies who are still trying to understand how the world works, through the eyes of characters that will bring them safety and comfort. 

In that regard, it’s thus unsurprising that PAW Patrol: The Dino Movie, while grander in scale than the previous two films, has zero stakes. Oh, sure, they put Marshall (Carter Young) in mortal danger in this one, and even give him a textured flashback that’s highly reminiscent of the drive Carol Danvers had while training in the military in Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck’s Captain Marvel (shades of Zack Snyder are also present in these scenes). Let’s be real, though: is Brunker ever going to kill a member of the PAW Patrol? Of course not! 

However, part of the enjoyment of watching The Dino Movie is seeing how the titular patrol will get out of a dangerous situation, and there is a bevy of well-mounted (and superbly animated) action scenes that are sure to enthrall younger moviegoers who probably can’t watch Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park. Montréal’s Mikros Animation has greatly improved itself from The Mighty Movie to this one and realizes sequences of actual grandeur that are constantly kinetic and involve the audience’s active participation in wanting the characters to be out of harm’s way. The level of detail is far more staggering than the TV show, and Brunker has also improved his skills as a director to make this third outing more cinematic. 

The voice cast is also particularly inspired, with Young a standout, giving Marshall the depth he needs to be the beating heart and soul of The Dino Movie. The dinosaur world itself needed a bit more development for it to feel tangible, but the film stops dead in its tracks in fleshing it out to bring back Mayor Humdinger (Ron Pardo) and his umpteenth evil plan. While Pardo’s vocal turn is as dynamic as ever, the villain has grown to be tiresome, since none of the characters meaningfully evolve or learn anything along the way (minus Marshall). 

This is where the televisual language comes into play, something that Brunker and co-writer Bob Barlen can’t fully overcome. At the end of the day, this is an extended episode of the TV show. And while it looks much better and flows more like a movie than usual, PAW Patrol remains an IP exclusively for (very) small children. I can’t say that, from a technical standpoint, the film is “bad” by any means. It is competently made, the animation is rock-solid, the action is fun, and there are surprising attempts at deepening the characters that television doesn’t allow. However, I also can’t recommend this film to anyone who isn’t a very small child. If you’re a parent, it would be preferable to watch Toy Story 5 with your child than a big-screen adventure made primarily for babies. 

That said, by bringing your child to PAW Patrol: The Dino Movie, it will likely be their first big-screen experience, and could unlock a lifelong passion for movies. This is what happened when my parents brought me to the cinema for Shrek 2. At the end of the day, just remember who you’re doing this for, and why it’s important that your child is exposed (at a young age) to the transformative power of cinema. Who knows? You might be raising the next Steven Spielberg…

Grade: C-

Director: Michael Russell Gunn
Writer: Michael Russell Gunn
Stars: Jeff Daniels, Jared Harris, J.K. Simmons

Synopsis: President Reagan races to save a nuclear deal with Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev as pressure mounts all around him. Every word spoken could move the world closer to peace – or destruction.

The Cold War is one of the most fascinating conflicts in humanity’s brief but destructive history. Despite lacking the large-scale military clashes of more famous conflicts, civilization has arguably never been as close to mutually assured destruction as it was at the height of hostilities. Angel Studios’ historical political drama The Brink of War aims to capture that feeling, focusing on one of the Cold War’s most pivotal moments as humanity stood at a crossroads and delivering a movie that history buffs are bound to enjoy.

The Brink of War takes place over 36 hours during the now-infamous 1986 Reykjavík Summit. The unprecedented gathering saw then-President of the United States Ronald Reagan (Jeff Daniels) and his trusted confidant George Shultz (J.K. Simmons) meet with Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev (Jared Harris). Under immense pressure from their respective advisors and intelligence agencies to reach a resolution, the summit presented a remarkable opportunity for the two leaders to find common ground as they attempted to pull their countries back from the threat of nuclear confrontation.

Brought to life by debut writer-director Michael Russell Gunn, the movie has clearly been meticulously researched, aided by Shultz’s transcripts. This is most apparent in the scripted exchanges between Reagan and Gorbachev, whose verbal jousts and constant one-upmanship provide some of the movie’s most entertaining moments. Their dialogue is consistently sharp and cutting, creating palpable tension that could be cut with a knife as their strategic chess match unfolds.

From the outset, there’s an evident deep-rooted mistrust between the two leaders. Even as much needed breakthroughs appear to be imminent, the “trust but verify” mentality underpinning the negotiations means everything could fall apart at any moment. It creates an unnerving sense of anxiety around their discussions, yet Gunn’s tight script almost always keeps things moving forward.

That’s not to say it’s perfect. There are more than a few occasions where the historical accuracy of what is unfolding feels questionable. In one particular scene, at the height of the disagreements between the leaders, Gorbachev can be observed in his private quarters lauding Reagan’s achievements, something that feels strangely out of place given the circumstances. There’s also some forcibly inserted political mudslinging that sees Democrats become the butt of several jokes, which doesn’t fit the otherwise serious tone of the movie.

More significantly, Reagan is painted as a patriotic hero who remains virtually immovable in his stance, with his stubbornness presented as the primary catalyst for change. Gorbachev, meanwhile, is portrayed as the weaker of the two and seemingly willing to concede ground at every opportunity. It reduces one of the most complex political relationships ever into an oversimplified “I’m more stubborn than you” dynamic. History tells us that Reykjavík was not simply defined by one leader standing firm and the other yielding, but by two men pursuing ambitious nuclear-arms reductions while remaining divided over Reagan’s Strategic Defense Initiative. By sacrificing some historical nuance in favor of a more flattering portrayal of Reagan, it prevents The Brink of War from becoming anything truly special. 

The movie also struggles whenever it leaves Reagan and Gorbachev’s meeting room. Scenes elsewhere feel like palate cleansers designed to break up the dialogue-heavy negotiations, but they mostly serve as distractions. They’re considerably less compelling and repeatedly halt the momentum of the developments unfolding behind closed doors. A more focused approach may have made the movie stronger.

True to form for many Angel Studios productions, the heavy-handed religious messaging can also be a little on the nose. Admittedly, it’s less distracting than regular viewers may be used to, but it’s still weaponized in a way that belittles the Soviet Union, which at times seems to be deemed morally inferior partly because of the state atheism associated with its Marxist-Leninist ideology.

That said, there is something slightly ironic about the core message of the Reykjavík Summit. The prevailing sentiment throughout is that building a lasting peace, even with your greatest adversaries, is ultimately more beneficial than going to war. Given the increasingly confrontational posture of many world leaders today, that message carries renewed weight at a time when history often seems in danger of repeating itself.

Of course, for a dialogue-heavy movie of this nature to work, the performances have to keep audiences engaged. That’s where Jeff Daniels and Jared Harris excel. Their back-and-forth tête-à-têtes are completely captivating as they transform themselves into two of the most famous leaders of the 20th century. J.K. Simmons, in a much more limited role, threatens to steal the whole movie with an effortlessly commanding performance that brilliantly captures the gravity of what is at stake should the negotiations fail.

For a movie predominantly shot in one location, Gunn, alongside cinematographer Magdalena Górka, makes an admirable attempt to create interesting and inventive shots that keep things visually fresh. Set decorator Marta Luiza Macuga also provides impressive period detail that helps transport audiences back to the ’80s.

Less impressive, however, is the dreadfully misplaced whimsical score. The world is staring down the possibility of nuclear catastrophe, yet the music wouldn’t feel out of place in a fantasy drama. It’s a baffling creative choice that rarely captures the gravity of what is unfolding on screen and easily becomes one of the movie’s weakest elements.

Overall, it’s safe to say The Brink of War is a mixed bag. Those who aren’t fans of historical political dramas will likely be bored to tears. But for those who are, there’s enough to admire, particularly in the sharp dialogue and commanding performances, to make it a worthwhile trip to the cinema. Its oversimplified political framing prevents it from becoming the definitive Reykjavík Summit drama it might have been, but when Daniels and Harris are sitting across the table from one another, it’s difficult not to be captivated.

Grade: C+

Director: Dave Green
Writer: Samy Burch, James Gunn, Jeremy Slater
Stars: John Cena, Lana Condor, Will Forte

Synopsis: A story set in the ACME warehouse, the manufacturer of anything and everything used by the Looney Tunes characters.

What you will find absurdly ironic about the new film Coyote vs. Acme only strengthens the movie and, for that matter, the source material’s satire. The once-great and mighty studio that produced films like Casablanca, A Clockwork Orange, Goodfellas, and The Lord of the Rings trilogy tossed the Looney Tunes film into the ACME dustbin of corporate history.

Then, somehow, some way, Ketchup Entertainment found a bucket of ACME paint, threw it against a wall, and found the film, bringing a great comedic brand back to the people. A David-versus-Goliath story in its own right, Coyote vs. Acme has finally seen the light of day,  bringing back the Looney Tunes brand’s classic recipe that remains sophisticated and subversive. 

The experience is full of incredible, escalating, visceral visual gags and intellectual satire that few can match, even fewer can replicate, and that remains timeless. How many comedic institutions can be so cultured while combining social satire with an anarchic slap in the face of the establishment? In that sense, Coyote vs. Acme is practically punk rock: erudite, irreverent, and hilarious.

The story follows Wile E. Coyote, who is sick and tired of ACME putting dangerous products in the hands of him and his cartoon compatriots, placing them in almost daily peril. Coyote then travels to see Kevin Avery, Esquire (Saturday Night Live’s Will Forte), a personal injury attorney he sees advertised on billboards along a desolate desert highway.

Kevin wants nothing to do with the case, probably having read “A Civil Action,” because taking on a corporation like ACME could bankrupt his practice. However, his niece, Paige (Lana Condor of To All the Boys fame), is an idealist who encourages him to take the case. After Wile E. takes matters into his own legal hands, Buddy Crane (John Cena), ACME’s corporate lawyer and Kevin’s former Harvard classmate, tends to buy their way out of this mess. 

However, before Wile E. is sent packing with a bindle full of cash, the desert-dwelling canine refuses the offer. Despite objections from Kevin’s staff, including Sal (Tone Bell) and Dottie (Euphoria’s Martha Kelly), the case moves to court, sparking a national debate over what matters more: our enjoyment versus the exploitation required to produce it?

Coyote vs. Acme comes from Dave Green, in easily his best film to date, working from a script by, get this, Academy Award nominee Samy Burch (May December). It’s hard to believe the studio wanted to bury this film, considering the enduring popularity of the source material and Hollywood’s insatiable need for intellectual property in the streaming content wars. 

The movie strikes a near-perfect balance of nostalgia, comedy, innovation, and satire. The film turns a cartoon premise into a surprisingly sharp commentary on product liability and corporate accountability. Then there is the endlessly clever legal and entertainment-industry subversion, which is about as meta as it gets. 

Then there are the Looney Tunes easter eggs and “cameos” from classic characters, dropping one-liners and sight gags that will induce the giggles for kids and belly laughs for adults. The animation is beautiful and wonderfully playful, while at times harkening back to the live-action/animation heyday of Who Framed Roger Rabbit. 

Yet, at the end of the day, it is the nature of what Wile E. is actually trying to accomplish that gives the film some unexpectedly ominous juice. Is he really fighting for cartoon rights, or is he using the legal system to trap his nemesis finally? It is a surprisingly sophisticated question that Burch’s script layers into the story, giving the film an unexpected degree of moral ambiguity.

While Will Forte is no Bob Hoskins, he is the perfect straight man for the nonverbal, obsessive canine because Forte can be naturally sympathetic and awkwardly earnest. There is a surprisingly emotional scene in the third act where both Kevin and Wile E. lay their cards on the table and face their own demons, giving unexpected depth to the typically nonverbal scavenger.

Yet, Coyote vs. Acme, beneath all those observations of exploitation and commodification, are enough anvils that drop like rain to the sky, cartoon explosions, and classic Looney Tunes mayhem that make this David-versus-Goliath one of the year’s best comedies and most heartfelt. See it in a theater near you, and let the corporate bigwigs and Warner Bros. Discovery know they made an ACME-size mistake. 

You can watch Coyote Vs. Acme exclusively in theaters August 28th!

Grade: A

Director: Aaron Strand
Writer: Aaron Strand
Stars: Millie Rose Evans, Brent Michal

Synopsis: A passionate young songwriter and her rebellious boyfriend must withdrawal from heroin to keep her conservative parents from sending her to rehab.

The Georgian film scene is becoming more active, with films spanning documentaries and gritty social dramas, including director Aaron Strand’s latest film, Withdrawal; a tale of artistry, love, addiction, and a night of terror that would change everything for our heroes. It tells the story of two disillusioned artists, Viv and Jay, who dream big of making it in New York. But dreams turn into a nightmare when Viv’s wealthy parents stage an intervention, stop her credit cards, and give her an ultimatum, either go clean or be admitted to rehab. That’s when Viv and Jay change the course of events for each other. 

The indie feature is a striking and highly ambitious addition to a string of kinetic social realism films like Trainspotting and Requiem for a Dream. If Darren Aronofsky and Danny Boyle were heralded for their work on those two masterpieces about addiction and its inevitable humanist fall from grace, then Strand deserves the highest compliments for continuing what they started, and stripping addiction off the newest trend of dreampop, glittery, glamorization of addiction and drug use (Euphoria, are you listening?). Especially in the artistic sphere, drug use has always been linked with looking cool or finding inspiration, so the attempt to dethrone that idea by giving us a grim dissection of how a life is ruined by that.

It’s a tale as old as time. The relentless pursuit of inspiration and all the dark routes it leads to. Passion spiraling out of control, and artistry done wrong in the hopes of feeling something grander than a provincial life that others are so comfortable living without second-guessing.

The movie wouldn’t work without the two leads, Millie Rose Evans and Brent Michal as Viv and Jay, respectively. Michal has the aura and the charm of a sexy, dark king vampire à la Sam Reid as Lestat in the AMC adaptation of Interview with the Vampire. Michal steals every scene he’s in, and it’s undeniable it’s not just his acting talent, but his charm and sex appeal as the drug-soaked painter Jay, the dichotomous half of the toxic lovestruck pair. Evans, as Viv, on the other hand, does all the heavy lifting. Her sacrificial, dark poetess, musician persona requires a more grounded approach to the performance which she masters. Both actors have great chemistry together and that’s what makes their unbelievably toxic relationship work for the audience.

Strand and Director of Photography Emily Marquet create a drug-hazed, blurry screen that unsettles and immerses the viewer in this psychedelic rush of images. The camera is handheld, chaotic, and unstable. It has a voyeuristic, pink-hued quality to the scenes, especially when we are trapped with the two leads alone in their isolated bubble of lust and getting high. Kudos to indie cinema for holding on to boldness and sexuality on screen, where sex scenes are realistic, raw, and awkward. After recent comments from a certain director that sanitized their latest big budget sex comedy to be devoid of sex scenes, it’s refreshing to see works still faithful to the craft rather than catering to nonexistent audiences. This is all thanks to Strand for handling the subject matter with realistic poignancy without exploitation of the female lead, especially since sex scenes are integral to the progression of the central character’s relationship.

The director doesn’t shy away from the grime and splatter of drug withdrawal, or whatever comes after that. The only takeaway that this review can give him is that his future scripts need more polishing, a bit of creative flair. Strand would reach even more authentic levels of storytelling when paired with the right screenwriter, even if he is aiming for the actors’ improv and naturally flowing dialogue, but that’s a story for another day.

Withdrawal doesn’t try to make a big statement about drug abuse. But if film lovers truly want to watch real cinema, this one is a great opportunity to soak themselves in it.

Grade: B+