Synopsis: When a Category 5 hurricane decimates a coastal town, the storm surge brings devastation, chaos and something far more frightening: hungry sharks.
By their very design, shark movies are meant to be thrilling, edge-of-your seat terror fests. While most shark films try to be Jaws, others lean into the more campy elements, like Deep Blue Sea or The Meg. Tommy Wirkola’s Thrash lands in that dreaded in-between where everything is taken too seriously, while forgetting to contain any sort of thrills.
It shouldn’t be that hard to get the base elements of a shark film correct, but the film is all the wrong kinds of stupid. Instead of dumb fun, it’s all just dumb. The characters are never developed enough to actively root for their survival or even be invested in them as characters. Instead, an increasingly silly amount of plot mechanisms get in the character’s way to put them at risk and up the stakes, except the audience barely cares.
In an unnamed coastal city, Dale Edwards (Djimon Hounsou) researches sharks off the shores. With an impending hurricane headed towards land, Dale worries about his agoraphobic niece, Dakota (Whitney Peak), getting out before the storm hits. Meanwhile, the very pregnant Lisa Fields (Pheobe Dynevor) attempts to get out of town, but is stuck when the interstate closes. Elsewhere, three foster siblings Ron (Stacy Clausen), Dee (Alyla Browne), and Will Olsen (Dante Ubaldi) are forced by their negligent foster parent (Matt Nable) to ride the storm out in their home.
As the hurricane makes landfall, the town’s levies break, causing floodwaters to engulf the streets and homes. Dakota stays in her home, while Lisa becomes trapped in her car next to a ruptured meat truck. The resulting blood in the water attracts a number of bull sharks who begin killing the citizens as the water continues to rise.
For a film under 90 minutes, it feels incredibly rushed. The characterization of Lisa and Dakota should have a bit more time to flesh out in order to understand and empathize with their characters, but instead get a one-line toss off explanation of why they are each alone. Dakota’s agoraphobia, something that should be a dynamic aspect of the story, is barely explored other than for obvious plot mechanics. It doesn’t present agoraphobia like a disorder, it makes her seem like an idiot. Same goes for Lisa. They are stuck because of bad decisions, not anything out of their control.
The Olsen siblings stop the film dead each time they show up. It’s not that they are uninteresting, they just have no backstory. Why are they foster kids? Why is their stepdad so cartoonishly evil the whole time? We barely have time to know their names, we just know they are obviously Australian actors doing terrible American accents. In fact, nothing the Olsens do is in any way consequential to the plot of the rest of the film. They are just added characters with no purpose.
The film does have two or three moments of legitimate interest, but that’s in a film of dozens of attempted moments. There is one memorable shark kill among the group, while an attempt to fight back by the Olsens is presented with a bit of flair and style. Outside of that, you know exactly how the film is going to progress, what is going to happen when a character grabs a weapon, and how it will all play out. It’s immensely predictable to the point of boredom.
While watching actors of the caliber of Dynevor and Hounsou, I just kept hoping they received a nice paycheck for their efforts. They have nothing to cling on to as actors, leading the film to float in a listless purgatory. Clausen, Browne, and Ubaldi don’t do anything wrong (besides miss their accent work), but they are too purposeless to make an impact. Peak is in the same boat, attempting to lean into her anxiety, but the film isn’t interested enough in her to be memorable.
You can tell there was a lot of thought, effort, and money put into the giant water setpieces, but they all end up for nothing. Each character is consistently pelted with rain and usually up to their waist in water. Even those setpieces are unmemorable, leading to a boringly predictable conclusion that boggles the mind. Thrash is a pointless survival thriller devoid of tension or investment. If this was ever released on physical media, it would be doomed to the $5 bargain bin where it belongs.
On this episode, Megan and Shadan discuss the latest film from Kristoffer Borgli in The Drama! Oh boy, there is a lot to discuss with this one given its titular drama and some of the ideas it wants to explore. Some of it’s interesting. Much of it is a mixed bag. Either way, the film does provoke some captivating conversation.
Review:The Drama
Director: Kristoffer Borgli Writers: Kristoffer Borgli Stars: Zendaya, Robert Pattinson
ComMANNdment #9: Thy Main Characters Will Not Be Able to Shake their Past
An actor’s job is to always look to the future. Whatever objective the character may have must constantly be ahead of them, driving them to navigate obstacles using a variety of tactics. The character’s history cannot help them achieve future goals, but it is something ever-present in their psyche. Mann, known for his visual filmmaking flair, is also a methodical tactician when it comes to creating full character biographies for his actors because he knows that information can get them to a place where pursuing their goals is fully motivated. And for most of Mann’s characters, what they want is a simple, normal life.
Frank in Thief has overcome a lot by his own admission: extended time in prison where he both inflicted extreme amounts of violence and absorbed damage to his body and mind, grew up state-raised in circumstances we are never fully are aware of but can infer were atrocious, and is exiting a marriage based on lies and deceit. Despite all these events, Frank has a collage he keeps in his wallet as a constant reminder of the dream he has: a wife, kids, home, and peace. Frank’s turn to thievery post incarceration is not because he loves the thrill – it’s a means to an end.
Under different circumstances, one might say that a “normal” life is not something to yearn for – that the quest for an extraordinary life made up of adventures and true tests of character is what human beings were made to search for. However, given the time in which The Keep is set, you cannot fault both the villagers protecting the keep in Romania nor Dr. Cuza and Eva for wanting their old customs and sense of normality returned to them. The depths and depravity of what occurred during the Holocaust does not bear repeating from me (I am just an actor and cinephile), but the idea of these people just wanting to freely roam the earth without cause of fear or retaliation…isn’t that a sense of normalcy we all would strive for?
Sometimes what makes a person tremendously gifted at what they do for a living can be a burden no one else could understand. This is the crux of Will Graham’s dilemma in Manhunter. He may be the best investigator the FBI has, but after his last case involving Dr. Lecktor and the physical and psychological scarring that took place, Will removes himself from this line of work. He wants to have his little piece of land on the beach and to be a committed and loving husband/father, but Will also knows how good he is at what he does. It is not that Graham is arrogant, but that he has a skill set no one else possesses at the level he does. Being a family man and seeing the atrocities that have already taken place on the Leeds and Jacobi families, Will knows that his quest for a normal life can thrive only if he can save the lives of another family wanting to co-exist in the same way.
Similar to the circumstances surrounding the characters in The Keep, wouldn’t the idea of normalcy be wonderful for many of the people living in the world of The Last of the Mohicans? This debate could take us into the argument of white settlers displacing Indigenous People from their ancestral lands (and it is a worthy debate to have), but for the purposes of this ComMANNdment, let’s focus on the time and place of this film. Native Americans and white colonists have seemingly found some semblance of peace and unity amongst each other. Given just the few scenes of interaction that we get, our Mohicans get along well with the farmers living nearby and there is an idea of harmony in the air. Clearly that has all been destroyed given the animosity between the French and English battling it out in America. The Natives have been divided and set against each other and settlers who have established new lives and traditions are being forced to fight an enemy that does not make absolute sense to them. Whoever you are in this film is almost irrelevant when the idea of getting your old life back is the key objective.
Given cinematic cliches, one would think that the cop would want the regular family life while the criminal would want to keep things simple and not be bogged down by a family. What Heat does is rearrange those expectations – like Neil states, “There’s a flipside to that coin.” For Vincent, a regular family life with parent-teacher meetings and 6pm dinners would only impede his primary objective: to catch whatever bad guy he is currently chasing. The idea of having a wife may only exist for Vincent because it is expected of him as a high-ranking member of the LAPD Robbery/Homicide division. Three wives in, it seems as if Vincent is not interested in “till death do us part.” Neil, on the other hand, talks a big game. “Don’t have any attachments, don’t have anything in your life that you cannot leave in 30 seconds” …right? His apartment is spare and he lives by the rules he has made up. And yet, he yearns for more. The way he looks at his crew’s relationships with their wives and children flips a switch in Neil’s mind: that one night stand with Eady – could it be forever? The idea of forever is an outlier for Neil and he uses his past (which we ever so briefly hear about) as part of his rationale for not settling down. But I guess it’s true that “love conquers all” and Neil is driven by the idea of a simple, normal life in New Zealand with Eady.
Not being able to let go of the past (or admit that past events even took place) becomes the impetus for Jeffrey Wigand’s downfall. Early on in their relationship, Lowell asks Jeffrey what past events from his life should he be aware of because Lowell’s experience in the industry tells him that Big Tobacco will go out of their way to discredit Jeffrey and anything he has to say. Wigand admits to a few events (drinking to excess, shoplifting, pushing Liane) while having dinner with Lowell, but it’s later when the Wall Street Journal gets involved that some major details get leaked – including that Wigand was previously married and had another child. Ultimately, these details should not pertain to the story that Wigand is trying to tell Bergman and the world, but when character assassination can do so much it does not matter. This is very telling for Wigand: he needs to be in control and certainly shows signs of obsessive-compulsive disorder. When events happen that are out of his control, he loses his sense of reality (hence the hotel hallucination). Thankfully, Lowell risks his journalistic credibility by fighting to get Jeffrey’s story on the air, but if Wigand had been more forthright from the beginning this situation could have been handled differently.
We know Muhammad Ali by that name now and it is synonymous with being at the apex of any sport. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.” It is hard to say for certain whether Ali wanted a “normal life” as he climbed to the peak of professional boxing, but we can certainly say that he had some difficulty shaking his past and even acknowledging that it existed. Ali was born Cassius Marcellus Clay Jr. and the movie does an adequate job of showing how his father feels about this. The Clay family was a mix of Methodist and Baptist and you see can the sting on the face of Cassius Clay Sr. (Giancarlo Esposito) when he hears from his son that he is changing his name. This brief scene does a good job of implicating that the father did not have much to give his son who is becoming the best boxer of all time, but that at least he could say he gave him his name. Ali would go on to have tough and interesting relationships with his family and the nation of Islam, but his quest for normality would prove futile. Set aside the fame that comes with being the heavyweight champ, Ali could not hold a marriage for very long and between 1964-1986 was married four times. Can you really have it all and still hope for the normal life?
What makes the characters in Collateral so fascinating to dive into is that we are only given so much explicit information about them. Trying to hone in on the sociopathic tendencies of Vincent seems both trivial and endless, so I will focus primarily on Max. What do we know about Max? We know he’s been driving a cab for 12 years even though he wants to start an upscale limousine service. We know that he is neat, tidy, fastidious, and particular. We know that he folds under pressure and does not like confrontation. And we know from what he implies and how he acts around her that he has a troubled relationship with his mother. We are not fully aware of why she is in the hospital, but it is clear that Max is the sole caregiver for her. We also know that Max has already told his mother that the limousine service is up and running. Inferences need to be made, but I can’t help but feel that Max is the middle child of the family and that his other siblings have left California and have busy, successful lives. Max is the caregiver of his mother by proximity alone and because of this his pursuit of a normal life has been put on hold. I also believe that Max’s relationship with his father (whom we never meet and know nothing about) must have been tough and that Max has been living in some state of fear for quite some time. As Collateral concludes and Max has been within an inch of death multiple times, we hope that he has recognized how fleeting life can be and that he should seize the moment and start his dream job.
What do we REALLY know about our two leads in Miami Vice? Tubbs is in a relationship with Trudy: this makes him more susceptible to anger when she is kidnapped. He is caring and compassionate towards her and is more protective of others than his partner. Sonny, on the other hand, is more of a mystery. We hear him tell Isabella that he didn’t really know his dad, but they were close. Sonny seems to be more reckless and a womanizer. Given how little we know about them, I’m not sure that we can assert that they want a normal life. Do you know who I think did? Alonzo (played by John Hawkes) seems like he was trying to turn his life around. Yes, he was a criminal informant, but he was married and very much in love with his wife. After learning that he doesn’t “need to go home” because she has been killed, Alonzo walks into oncoming freeway traffic in one of the most brutally devastating scenes in Mann’s filmography. What I’m getting at here is not so much about characters wanting a normal life, but being unable to shake their past. Alonzo could not escape his criminal past and it cost him.
In Public Enemies, when confronting Billie at her place of employment as a coat check girl, Dillinger explains himself this way: “I was raised on a farm in Mooresville, Indiana. My mama died when I was three, my daddy beat the hell out of me ‘cause he didn’t know no better way to raise me. I like baseball, movies, good clothes, fast cars, whiskey, and you… what else you need to know?” Dillinger poses this to Billie, but he is really asking this question to us. And in doing so, we are forced ask ourselves is that well-paced, witty retort enough for us to believe this is why Dillinger does what he does? Growing up without a mom and having a dad who beats you regularly would have a tremendous outcome on a person. As far as historically accurate goes, it is true that Dillinger was “Public Enemy #1”, but the film sets up a world in which Dillinger was trying to settle down after finding that one last, big score. However, Dillinger is also a man of control – something that his friend and confidant, Red Hamilton (Jason Clarke), brings up: “You gotta let go, John…And you gotta let Billie go, too. I know you. You’ve never let nobody down. But this time, you gotta go on. You gotta let go.” Red is expressing this as Dillinger is trying to stitch up his gunshot wound. Even though Red is on the brink of death he reveals a hard truth about Dillinger: he needs total control. He wants control of Billie, he wants control of his crews, and he wants control over his future. This lack of humility keeps him from reaching the end goal of a normal life with Bille – far, far away from here.
Here is a back and forth between Lien and Hathaway in Blackhat.
LIEN: Why…you in prison?
HATHAWAY: I was in a bar. I met some girl. Some guy got in my face about it. He started a fight. When it’s over, he’s the hospital and I’m arrested. I would up sentence to 18 months and MCI-Norfolk…and I traded academia for gladiator academy.
LIEN: Then what?
HATHAWAY: Then I got out. I’m 22. Not a lot going on in Silicon Valley for an ex-con with no degree, so-
LIEN: Carding?
HATHAWAY: Yeah, that and wholesaling internationally. I had an eight-year run. The feeb caught up with me and I got 13 years.
LIEN: You have regrets?
HATHAWAY: Regrets? No. The banks got his for the losses, not people. I didn’t burn people. I don’t burn people.
LIEN: No?
HATHAWAY Banks are chiseling everybody all the time anyway. I don’t feel sorry for banks.
LIEN: No, I mean, I’m sorry for what happened to you.
HATHAWAY: …Don’t be. I’m not fishing for sympathy here. I did the crime, I’m doing the time. Time isn’t doing me.
LIEN: What’s that mean?
HATHAWAY: I do my own time, not the institution’s.
Only a few moments later, we get this line from Hathaway: “What do you know about where I’ve been?” If you were looking for a textbook example of an exposition dump, then here you go. I understand that this dialogue is meant to feel genuine and organic because these two don’t fully know each other, but it isn’t as if Lien is unaware of who Hathaway is – he we to college with her brother. So…what is it? Bored white guy with too much spunk for college gets into crime? Did dad hit him and mom not care? It seems clear that Hathaway wants a break from cybercrime that got him arrested, but what exact future he wants is a mystery.
I’m not sure a normal life was ever in the cards for Enzo Ferrari – he experienced the highest of highs and the lowest of lows and all while trying to make a name for himself in the world of racing and sports cars. Troy Kennedy Martin’s script pulls me in opposite directions and I cannot tell where I land on it. By picking this specific moment in history, we see Enzo dealing with the personal and the professional with no reprieve on the horizon from either. And while I enjoy this conceit, there may be a few too many ideas or problems for us to try and care about. Let’s start with Ferrari’s brother, Dino, who dies during WWI and whom it seems Ferrari’s mother cared for more (“The wrong son died” she so eloquently states in the film). I understand that this may be factually accurate, but is it necessary? We get that Enzo cannot escape the past because he still cannot get over the death of his son (also named Dino) and has had another son with Lina. These two competing concepts are enough to understand how Enzo is incapable of shedding his past, so the creative decision to include his brother seems a like an added spice that the soup didn’t need. With a main character for whom normalcy will never be, the film should have kept his past more palatable for the audience.
Synopsis:In a world where humans and merpeople exist, Princess Chao gets engaged to human engineer Stephen. What will become of their romance?
As with Studio 4°C’s previous effort, All You Need is Kill, ChaO features some of the most staggering, creative animation you’re likely to see. It seems like a daunting task to visualize a credible animated world where humans and merpeople live together. However, director Yasuhiro Aoki understands the assignment all too well, pulling the audience into the story through his intricate animation. Every character – whether human or fish – has different proportions, the colors pop beyond the film’s diegesis, and the action sequences in the film’s back half are seriously unbelievable.
The use of geographical space rivals the likes of James Cameron. You want to look at what’s happening in front of you, but are also attracted to what’s on the periphery of the frames. Every single image feels lived-in and textured; there’s real emotional depth in seeing how this world operates. It almost exists beyond our imagination, something that feels too good to even paint on film. There isn’t a scene in the movie that doesn’t stimulate our senses – it’s so creative that it almost puts every single mainstream animated offering to shame, Hoppers included (even with that apex predator set piece that only the creator of We Bare Bears could bring to life).
How Aoki even highlights the human qualities of Princess Chao (Anna Yamada) before she becomes human after falling in love – and ultimately marrying – mechanical engineer Stephan (Ouji Suzuka), is also astonishing. He wants us to feel the emotions on the screen, which are always represented through painterly, moving shifts in how the protagonists appear. It’s profoundly affecting work, especially during flashbacks that provide audiences clarity of who Stephan was before he agreed to marry a shape-shifting mermaid that could potentially upend the relationship between both worlds.
But why is it so goddamned conventional? Worse yet, why is it so retrograde? Stephan isn’t initially in love with Chao, because she’s presented as a fish, and only begins to develop affection for her when he sees what she looks like as a human. Don’t get me started on all of the hypersexualized women with large breasts that populate this unwieldy city. It feels terribly uncomfortable watching a movie with such incredible animation that resorts to the lowest possible forms of female representation, where the character can only feel truly “free” if she’s in the hands of a man, while she also…learns how to cook? What year is this?!?
The story is also treated in such a matter-of-fact way that we never really develop any meaningful connections with anyone. It admirably tries to reinterpret the age-old narrative of The Little Mermaid, but ends up doing very little. We’ve seen this story before. It was treated with much less regression almost forty years ago when Disney adapted Hans Christian Andersen’s tale. A movie that’s this misogynistic in the year of our lord 2026 is unacceptable – full stop.
And it’s a shame, because Studio 4°C is a master of animation. They’re just terrible at literally everything else. All You Need is Kill had such incredible visuals, insane action, the likes of which we seldom see realized at this scale in anime. Yet the story was far worse than Doug Liman’s live-action adaptation of the material with Tom Cruise, which took many creative liberties. ChaO seems inspired by a core text, retains the household style we’ve come to know and love in the studio, and stages some impeccably mounted action in the latter half of the picture. Still, the story disappoints so greatly that one wouldn’t be wrong to dismiss this altogether. In fact, you should probably steer clear of it, which isn’t something I usually do in reviews, but I’ll make the rare exception for this one – and this one only.
Directors:Alex Mallis, Travis Wood Writers: Weston Auburn, Alex Mallis, and Travis Wood Stars: Tristan Turner, Anthony Overbeck, Naomi Asa
Synopsis: A documentary filmmaker depends on his friend’s airline employee benefits for free flights. When the friend finds a girlfriend, he desperately tries to preserve his travel privileges.
Growing up, there was nothing better than having a friend who had access to something cool that I didn’t. A lake house, a boat, or even an in-home movie theater completely elevated that friendship and made it more important for me to keep than some others. Of course, this is not the way to approach friendships as a mature adult, but I was just a kid. The Travel Companion explores what happens when you use a friendship for its perks and obsess over the possibility of losing both the friend and the perks.
From L to R: Anthony Oberbeck as Bruce and Tristan Turner as Simon in The Travel Companion. Photo credit: Jason Chiu. Courtesy of Oscilloscope Laboratories.
The film follows Simon (Tristan Turner), a young filmmaker working an aimless video production job at a taxi advertising company, and his best friend and roommate, Bruce (Anthony Oberbeck), who works as a project manager for an airline, as their relationship is put to the test when Simon’s free flights as Bruce’s travel companion are put in jeopardy by the latter’s new girlfriend. Simon has been using these flights to obtain footage for his new film, which has the longest explanation for a movie that I’ve ever heard. He tries to describe it to other filmmakers and festival programmers several times, and it just gets more convoluted and confusing each time. He’s just as aimless making this film as he is at his dead-end job.
Simon and Bruce have a solid dynamic at the start of the film, doing all kinds of things together and not getting tired of each other. It’s clear from the jump that Bruce is more of a career man, having all his ducks in a row and keeping things together for both himself and Simon. Oberbeck’s performance highlights a level of self-awareness and empathy that allows their friendship to make sense.
From L to R: Naomi Asa as Beatrice, Anthony Oberbeck as Bruce, and Tristan Turner as Simon in The Travel Companion. Photo credit: Jason Chiu. Courtesy of Oscilloscope Laboratories.
Turner’s turn as Simon is almost too good as the narcissistic, socially unaware friend who is holding on to dear life to the one thing that allows him a sense of freedom in his life. Once it becomes clear that Bruce’s girlfriend, Beatrice (Naomi Asa), is a contender for the travel companion perks next year, Simon finds a way to make every conversation with both of them about that decision and why he is more deserving of the spot. His lack of self-awareness and responsibility for himself is infuriating. The end of these perks, and potentially this friendship with the successful and stable Bruce, forces Simon to see a future where he has to fend for himself without much help. It’s hard to accept, and easy to relate to both parties in the relationship.
The story is simple, but I found it incredibly profound and reflective of many friendships throughout my life. Screenwriters Weston Auburn, Alex Mallis, and Travis Wood are touching on very real experiences and how hard it is for some people to grow up, even into their early thirties. Simon uses his dream of becoming a filmmaker as an excuse to shirk his other responsibilities, rather than using his dream and passion for filmmaking to propel him forward in his career. He’s scared of failing, which makes him not try as hard. What happens if it doesn’t work? What will people think of me? He can’t get out of his own head and into the real world, where he has agency to make things happen for himself if he just applies his talents more effectively.
The film’s use of a 4:3 aspect ratio heightens both the intimacy of our two main characters’ relationship as well as the anxiety that slowly builds in Simon throughout the movie. These tight shots and close-ups don’t leave a lot of room on the margins of the frame, leaving you feeling as trapped as Simon does.
Tristan Turner as Simon in The Travel Companion. Photo credit: Jason Chiu. Courtesy of Oscilloscope Laboratories.
The Travel Companion starts to lose steam towards the end as Simon’s antics grow increasingly tiresome and desperate. Bruce’s patience wears thin, and so does the audience’s. Despite this slowdown towards the end, the movie is incredibly funny and speaks to relatable themes of friendship and being stuck in a place in life that you are both desperate and scared to get out of. Turner and Oberbeck are great in their roles, and they bring out the script’s heart brilliantly.
On this episode, Megan is joined by Shaurya Chawla to discuss the new animated film from Illumination in The Super Mario Galaxy Movie! The movie has been getting panned by critics, and understandably so given its approach to the material, but there are some good things in the film as well.
Review:The Super Mario Galaxy Movie
Director: Aaron Horvath, Michael Jelenic Writers: Matthew Fogel Stars: Chris Pratt, Anya Taylor-Joy, Charlie Day, Jack Black
This week on the InSession Film Podcast, inspired by the success of Project Hail Mary and the historic launch of Artemis II, we thought it would be really fun to do a March Madness-style bracket discussing the best space movies of all-time! 32 movies. Only one winner. This was a lot of fun, even if some of these matchups were incredibly challenging.
– Bracket Criteria (3:05) To begin this week’s episode, we talk about our inspirations for doing this bracket and the serendipitous nature of it all given the remarkable run by Project Hail Mary and how that coincided with the Artemis II mission. We also break down our criteria for “space movie” as we wanted to have some distinction as opposed to sci-fi movies more broadly. Classics like Blade Runner, for example, are otherworldly but there’s no space element to it.
– 1st Round (16:50) This was the longest round by far. Not only because it has the most number of films (32), but this is where we spent time breaking them down and ultimately why we chose one over the other for each matchup. As you might expect, some were quite challenging and took some debating, but it was a ton of fun trying to disseminate which films moved on to the next round.
– Sweet 16 (1:35:24) / Elite 8 (1:39:38) / Final Four & Championship (1:43:47) The next four rounds were much quicker. Because we had already talked about the films and why we loved them, all we had to do was debate which one moved on to the next round. Some matchups were easy, others made us pull our hair out. Especially as we got into the Final Four and the Championship. We are talking about some of the best movies of all-time after all, so debating a winner for those matchups made for some tense moments. That said, what did you think of our space movie bracket challenge?
If you want to help support us, there are several ways you can help us and we’d absolutely appreciate it. Every penny goes directly back into supporting the show and we are truly honored and grateful. Thanks for your support and for listening to the InSession Film Podcast!
Director:Josef Gatti Writer: Josef Gatti, Joseph Nizeti Stars: Josef Gatti
Synopsis: A psychedelic odyssey into the fabric of the universe, guided by a filmmaker’s immersive practical experiments that transcend into a deeply hypnotic audio-visual experience of awe and human connection to the natural world.
There are films that one watches and realizes it is difficult to encompass an entire universe in a few simple words. It’s a case where “a picture is worth a thousand words” becomes a valid statement. But then, what’s the point of writing about images or motion pictures when sentences fail to convey the magic one watches on a screen? Those are the first thoughts that come to mind while watching director Josef Gatti’s psychedelic odyssey Phenomena, which is the weirdest documentary I have watched as of late.
How does one catch lightning in a bottle? To be fair, that’s easy nowadays, but the notion of recording the universe compressed in 10 chapters per session, one chapter per microuniversal process, is something that I haven’t heard of before. I am not saying Gatti (or Joe as he refers to himself) invented the wheel, but this is, for sure, a unique picture, unlike anything we’ve seen, not just lately, but probably at all.
It’s difficult to describe what Phenomena is about. One artist’s mad obsession with science, to the extent of falling madly in love with the universe and trying to capture it. Complex ideas like visualizing light and sound become the stage on which Joe showcases his talents as a filmmaker and a creative. The dream collab (creativity in science) is not just an education lesson but a true formula to conceptualize cinema as a visual language, especially in documentary filmmaking, rather than merely a vehicle for a topic or a subject matter as vast as space or as miniature as salt crystals.
Despite the subject matter hinting that it might be just another boring academic lecture, there is not a dull moment in this film. Joe is in love with the universe and wants this love to transcend to us. It’s his passion that makes this psychedelic trip superior to any other scientific-themed documentary. His creativity in showcasing the universe in its intricate details but also his subtlety in handling those natural phenomena. Without visual effects or artifice, Joe immerses himself in the world of scientific trials, acting as the orchestra of the film, with the mesmerizing cinematography and the narration complementing his visual journey to the bone. He seeks help from his father, hands-on in front of the camera, to help visualize procedures that seem impossible to put on camera. Without the help of the sound department, composer Nils Frahm’s compositions and Rival Console’s original scores blend multiple genres from electronica, classical, to ambient compositions.
Music creates a trance that envelops the visual magic and elevates the viewing. But at the end of the day, what key message is Joe trying to deliver with this visual feast? Our planet is beautiful, but it’s becoming more and more difficult to notice that in current circumstances. The world seems to get uglier by the day with wars, degradation of soil, deforestation, and loss of resources. But through films like this, people can hold on to nature for dear life.
It is almost impossible to rate Phenomena, because how can one rate mega concepts like light, sound, air, matter, and velocity? This is not a documentary one can discuss on film forums or have a chat about with their friends after a screening. This is something that a viewer enters a dark room to let it wash all over them, and they come out healed and energized, maybe a little bit in love with the world.
This movie belongs on the biggest screen possible. All this beauty deserves to be witnessed in silence, in a dark, air-conditioned room. Hopefully in the company of strangers.
Director:Alan J. Pakula Writer:Carl Bernstein, Robert Woodward, William Goldman Stars: Robert Redford, Dustin Hoffman, Jack Warden
Synopsis: “The Washington Post” reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein uncover the details of the Watergate scandal that leads to President Richard Nixon’s resignation.
In our current climate, the very idea of boots-on-the-ground journalism feels 300 years old. Print journalism in a time before cell phones, the internet, and the proliferation of information seems almost impossible. Unromantic long hours at obscure offices, disheveled clothing, ink-stained fingers, endless cups of coffee, and a truly shocking number of cigarettes. Who could possibly want to do this job?
“They’re hungry. Do you remember when you were hungry?” These words are spoken by Washington Post local news editor Harry M. Rosenfeld about reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, the two reporters who doggedly pursued corruption around the Watergate break-in and the presidency of Richard Nixon. These men aren’t half-invested. Their whole lives revolve around uncovering the truth and bringing that truth to light. It’s not glamorous, and it’s not easy, but it has to be done.
That pursuit is the subject of Alan J. Pakula’s All the President’s Men, currently celebrating its 50th anniversary. Woodward and Bernstein are portrayed by Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman, two bonafide actors and movie stars. But what they look like isn’t nearly as important as what they are doing. Whether it’s cold-calling potential sources, showing up at people’s doorsteps, or sorting through seemingly endless library reference cards, the work is more important than the man.
Not just the work, the importance of getting it right. The truth is the overarching theme of the film, living just below the surface, beating with the ever-increasing deadline of importance. But being right isn’t enough. It has to be undeniable. Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee (Jason Robards, in an Oscar-winning performance) relays the story of being given the correct information but still being made to look foolish. The truth doesn’t matter. What can you dictate to actually bring about impactful change?
With that in mind, Woodward and Bernstein begin to build the story from the micro to the macro. As soon as they believe they have something worthwhile, Bradlee chops their story to pieces for a lack of reliable sources, but tells them to keep going. Woodward makes contact with the mysterious “Deep Throat” (Hal Holbrook), who verifies information, but speaks in vague metaphors and refuses to give direct information. Each new reveal leads the pair to a new story with escalated visibility, but even more questions.
No moment of the 138 minutes is wasted. Each scene is like its own short film, connected with the desire for the truth, filled with detail, but with the emotional intelligence that the public isn’t stupid. In fact, you could pick out a dozen or so scenes and watch them as a snippet to understand the big picture. At one point, Bernstein meets with a bookkeeper (Oscar-nominated Jane Alexander) who reluctantly divulges information. Bernstein is forced to keep asking for more cups of coffee from the bookkeeper’s sister in order to keep her talking. It’s a fascinating scene of human behavior, but also of the tenacity of journalists. Later, Woodward convinces Bernstein to go back and meet with her again, just to verify one detail. It doesn’t matter how much information they get, it’s about the right information.
And even then, the characters wonder aloud why the powers at be would even do the things they are doing? When it all comes together, it makes sense, but it isn’t logical. There is a core American belief that the people in charge will do the right thing and have the best interest of the American public in mind. When that facade is broken, the American people have a right to know. This was one of the first investigations to uncover the levels of government corruption and duplicity.
50 years later, anyone who didn’t live through it can’t fully grasp the gravity and inescapability of words like Watergate, CREEP, E. Howard Hunt, or H.R. Haldeman. This was not some small investigation into a few bad apples. This was the first domino in a series of investigations that brought down President Nixon. With our current affairs the way they are, it seems unfathomable that a few proven lies could bring down a president.
With his recent death, Redford’s career has undergone a welcome reassessment. Despite having his undeniable looks and charisma, Woodward is not a character of charm and panache. Instead, he gets by on his tenacity, drive, and all-around effort. Redford doesn’t resort to any backstops of his looks, but embodies the spirit of Woodward, without doing a direct impression. On the flipside, Hoffman goes out of his way to be repellant. Bernstein smokes, annoys, interrupts, and yells whenever he feels he is in the right. The two couldn’t be more different, but they work together in the best possible way to get to the truth of the matter. Neither pulls focus, and that in and of itself is a feat for two movie stars of their caliber in 1976.
The rest of the cast is filled to the brim with character actors filling out their roles with life and color. Martin Balsam and Jack Warden feel like old-school newspapermen, while Ned Beatty shows up as a shady lawyer for one scene. Ironically, Stephen Collins might be the only honest person the pair interview. Robert Walden, F. Murray Abraham, Meredith Baxter, and Penny Fuller do a fine job in their small, but vital roles. Alexander also stands out in her one big scene, despite having little to do besides being frazzled.
Robards delivers every line with humor, guts, and integrity. Eternally with his feet up on a desk with a laid back demeanor, Bradlee is a character Robards fits like a glove. His experience is vital for Woodward and Bernstein to lean on, while also serving as a sage source of reliability when their work is criticized. In a long and storied career on screen, Robard’s performance here may well be his lasting legacy.
In a film completely devoid of sex or violence, the rhythm and pacing is impeccable. William Goldman’s Oscar-winning script sends both men on a mission of discovery while never waiting around. Gordon Willis’ pitch-perfect cinematography paired with Oscar-winning sound design either traps the audience in the overstimulated typewriter noise of the newsroom, or the paranoia of the outside world, accompanied by David Shire’s brooding score, edited together with a fine touch by the Oscar-nominated Robert L. Wolfe.
Pakula, consistently the most underrated director of his era, compliments his previous paranoia thrillers Klute and The Parallax View with this film. Smartly, the director never defaults to paranoia, but comes to it naturally over nearly two hours of hard hitting journalism. When it finally arrives, it feels warranted and earned. Outside of a number of perfectly positioned split diopter shots, Pakula doesn’t employ too many tricks. He knows what he has in Goldman’s script, and lets the narrative do the work.
All the President’s Men is a perfect film and the apex of film journalism. 50 years later, it hasn’t lost one ounce of impact, and may be growing more impactful by the day.
Director:Aneil Karia Writer:Michael Leslie, William Shakespeare Stars: Riz Ahmed, Morfydd Clark, Joe Alwyn
Synopsis:Hamlet comes home for his father’s funeral and finds his uncle Claudius marrying his widowed mother Gertrude. His father’s ghost reveals Claudius murdered him, leading Hamlet toward revenge and introspection.
“Hamlet” is a great work of fiction, this cannot be denied. Unless you want to be anti-Shakespeare. And in that case, I am not sure I wish to have a conversation with you. This is not to say that every credited work of his is unassailable, but the sheer number of creations that led to the way we speak and write is impressive by any measure. “Hamlet” is probably the closest thing to a perfect play, and has been performed countless times, in any number of settings. It can work just as well in Elizabethan, modern, or a fantastical realm.
So, it is no surprise that we have yet another adaptation releasing. Many actors have taken on this mantle, including Laurence Olivier, Kenneth Branagh, Ethan Hawke, Richard Burton, and Mel Gibson. In our latest adaptation, the inimitable Riz Ahmed fills the shoes of the Danish (although not in this version) prince. For those somehow unaware, the plot of Hamlet shows us our protagonist returning home to find that his father has died, and his mother is marrying his uncle. Understandably, this has an effect on him and he slowly becomes mentally unmoored trying to solve the mystery of this death (aided by his father’s apparition, claiming that he was murdered). This is, of course, simply a broad strokes detailing of the story, and many other important characters interject and cross our hero, such as he is. And frankly, this is the largest weakness of this version. That being said, the film has the distinct advantage of a new take on the setting and having Ahmed willing to play the lead role.
But first, let’s talk about where and when it takes place. Choosing a modern, South Asian community in London is, frankly, a masterstroke. It allows a distinct perspective, both one of financial privilege and that of an outsider, power within an outsider subculture. Additionally, it provides a mixture of language and cultural style that keeps the audience fully engaged, even if Shakespeare is difficult for you. The (sometimes parallel) conversations occurring in Hindi and English provide a commentary on this particular family and South Asian families in the UK, generally. The scene between Hamlet and his father’s ghost is particularly effective, making plot machinations clear only to the lead character and the audience. Plus, there are sequences of celebration and dance which hammer home the cultural differences, while also proving that Hamlet can be set in any time and any place. The classic nature and the familial drama inherent in this story has no limits and, in fact, expands when the setting is altered. This celebration sequence, along with the play-within-a-play is beautifully filmed and framed by director Aneil Karea and cinematographer Stuart Bentley. As a note, the costumes, designed by Nirage Mirage, are impeccable and worth the film lingering on. These moments offer a vision of the greatness that could have been.
Luckily, there is almost no world in which a version of Hamlet starring Riz Ahmed could be a bad movie. Ahmed has the perfect countenance and style for Hamlet, given that he is convincing as a grief-stricken, brooding son or as a man whose sanity is questionable as he unleashes his emotion on everyone around him. Unfortunately, given the massive cuts to the original text (while keeping the style of the original language) by writer Michael Lesslie, all of the other characters are given short shrift. While it is understandable to want this to be the The Riz Ahmed Show, Hamlet is not simply about the main character. This leaves a number of talented actors, especially Morfyyd Clark (as Ophelia) and Joe Alwyn (as Laertes) to be wildly undeveloped and with upsettingly rushed arcs. These arcs do come to a kind of fruition, but the last half of the film seems to be mostly spinning its wheels due to the changed structure of the film.
Sadly, the only moment from Ahmed that doesn’t land is the all-important “To be or not to be” speech. While the choice to have that scene take place in a vehicle is understandable within the context of this film, robbing the audience of Ahmed delivering that speech with a still camera feels almost criminal. This brings back (bad) memories of watching the back of Ethan Hawke’s head as he gives this same soliloquy in an earlier film version of the play.
Hamlet (2025) is a tremendous idea that never fully reaches the level that it should. With more of Shakespeare’s language, a full arc from the ancillary characters, and a little more trust in the audience, this could have been one of the best adaptations of a great work of art. As it is, the film is worth watching for Riz Ahmed’s stunning performance and a twist in the setting. Aneil Karea manages to modernize Shakespeare and utilize one of the very best actors working, if only there was a bit of a wider scope to include everyone else.
Synopsis:A woman, employed as a website content moderator, comes across a series of violent videos reproducing death scenes from a film.
We live in a film world where, frankly, reimaginings, remakes, and revamps of previously dormant IP have been the least interesting they’ve ever been. There’s the occasional new spin on an idea that needs updating or wasn’t very enticing in the first place, but most cases involve the common quick cash grab or something so unnecessary to be toiled with in the modern age that it would leave countless baffled. This knowledge makes Daniel Goldhaber’s Faces of Death inherently fascinating from concept alone; the original 1978 film was maligned for its brutality, getting banned in multiple countries and criticized for its lack of any real depth behind its gruesome imagery, and being seen as more harmful than anything else. Goldhaber and his co-writer, Isa Mazzei, put their own brilliant spin on the original’s reputation, updating its themes to our modern era of technology, where these horrifying images that were once shocking are now desensitized into our minds through nearly every corner of the internet. It makes for a meta remake, adding further depth to the hook of its concept while never sacrificing any gory ferocity or thrilling setpieces, making for one of the most unique horror remakes to release as of late.
The film follows Margot Romero (Barbie Ferreira), a content moderator for the TikTok-like website Kino, where she parses through short-form videos every day, approving or flagging content. Margot is an extremely isolated person, with her very limited social interactions being with her roommate, Ryan (Aaron Holliday). Part of the reason for this isolation is Margot’s own viral gone wrong moment she had on the internet, leading to the loss of her sister, which is why she sees moderation as a means to protect people. Her work continues as normal until she comes across a particularly violent set of videos, seemingly recreating the gruesome deaths from the infamous film Faces of Death.
Margot is unsure whether they’re real or fake, but when she questions her boss (Jermaine Fowler) and fellow employees on the matter, no one seems to care about anything but keeping the trend going. Margot soon decides to take matters into her own hands, researching the situation to uncover if what she’s seeing truly is real, but when the creator of the videos, Arthur (Dacre Montgomery), begins to discover Margot’s investigation, he starts setting in motion for her to be a part of the madness, all for the sake in his words of “giving the people what they want.”
From the premise alone, Faces of Death is already metatextual in its commentary, with the original film existing as a piece of VHS memorabilia in this film’s universe. There’s a point in the film where Ryan is explaining the film to Margot and describes it as “the original viral video” of sorts, and this idea punctuates the entire messaging of Goldhaber’s reinterpretation. The tackling of technology paranoia has been explored plenty of times (most prominently recently in 2023’s Red Rooms), but Faces of Death brings the idea of our cultural desensitization to horrific imagery to the forefront, questioning the relationship to awful content being left to breed and the ultra corporations that refuse to do anything about their existence but continue to chase its popularity. Goldhaber’s Cam also revolved around a similar type of social media paranoia revolving around losing oneself to the vast arrays of media, and the way this film engages with our relationship to dangerous violence in our everyday modern media consumption (vs the past with the original film) is incredibly effective. It’s to the point where it almost feels like there’s even more to delve into here that is left more vague, but it remains chilling nonetheless.
Even with so much theming between the lines of the film’s plotting and regular horror tropes, Goldhaber also showcases his extremely well-equipped skills behind the camera to craft tense and thrilling set pieces. Everything in the presentation here is so slickly effortless, the quick editing between splitscreen screenlife sequences of Margot researching her way through the darkest depths of the web, the presence of multiple handheld and tracking shots to make perfect use of holding your breath through every scene, and an immersive thumping synth score from Goldhaber’s frequent composer, Gavin Brivik. All these elements stand out most through a killer one-take in the movie’s back half, making perfect use of all the film’s best technical qualities, which are only further bolstered by a chilling antagonist performance from Dacre Montgomery, who sees implementing Margot into his videos as his crowning achievement, considering her reputation.
Simply put, however, this movie would not be remotely believable without Ferreira as the lead here, firmly cementing herself as a standout scream queen within recent genre fare. As the final girl to a content creator serial killer, she goes through a wide array of horror conventions that may be eyerolly or predictable to some, but she’s so committed to every moment of terror and bloody brutality that nothing ever falters. Most importantly, however, is that her struggle as the central character and why she’s committed to solving this mystery when no one could be bothered is enough to root for her to finally be seen as right amongst her peers and the internet that has mocked her for so long.
It’s rare to find the film remake or reimagining that isn’t just an evolution of the original’s material, but redefines it through the modern lens of today’s culture, and Faces of Death is that rare successful venture acting as delve into the desensitized nature of our modern relationship with violence in our social media, without missing a beat on providing thrilling sequences and killer gore to boot. With Barbie Ferreira’s excellent final girl stint as the glue holding it all together, Faces of Death will stand as one of the more intriguing horror revampings of older IP in recent times.
Synopsis: An intimate portrait of cyclist Moriah Wilson, raised by a fierce, loving family, whose singular drive propelled her to athletic brilliance before her life was tragically cut short by murder.
True crime documentaries have a familiar rhythm that includes crime, investigation, and resolution, all neatly packaged for consumption. That’s mostly likely why they’re so popular amongst audiences. The Truth and Tragedy of Moriah Wilson, is Netflix’s deeply affecting portrait of the young cyclist whose murder shocked the sporting world in 2022. This is not a documentary driven by twists or revelations. Instead, it’s a study in the absence of a life interrupted, and the effects that follow. The documentary is one hour and thirty-seven minutes long, which makes it a nice, well-rounded piece of film. A perfect binge for true-crime fans.
At its center is Moriah “Mo” Wilson, a rising star in competitive cycling whose discipline and focus are framed by a fiercely supportive upbringing. The film spends its early moments carefully constructing her world: family home videos, recollections from loved ones, glimpses of her training and achievements. It’s a deliberate choice, and an effective one. By the time the narrative turns toward tragedy, you’ll feel like you know Mo, and that makes what happened to her even more heart-wrenching.
The case itself, her murder and the subsequent manhunt that captured national attention in May 2022, is handled respectfully and carefully. The filmmakers shift the focus to those left behind: her family, friends, and the wider community trying to process an unthinkable loss. This emphasis on perspective is where the documentary finds its strength. Her parents speak with a mixture of pride and devastation, grappling with the dual reality of celebrating her life while mourning its abrupt end. Friends recall small, specific moments that might seem insignificant in isolation but, collectively, form a portrait of a happy, clever, and determined girl.
The film’s pacing unfolds the story slowly, allowing space for reflection rather than pushing relentlessly toward the trial’s outcome. There are no flashy reconstructions or stylistic flourishes designed to heighten drama. The documentary is layered with home videos throughout Mo’s life, complemented by intimate interviews with her close loved ones and people who worked on her case. There are also so many photos of her winning medals and making a life for herself. All of this creates moments of unexpected lightness, stories that prompt smiles as much as tears, reminders that Mo’s life cannot be defined solely by its ending. These glimpses of joy are crucial, preventing the film from becoming overwhelmingly heavy and underscoring its commitment to balance.
That said, The Truth and Tragedy of Moriah Wilson is not without its limitations. Viewers expecting a detailed investigative breakdown may find the film’s focus frustratingly narrow. The mechanics of the case, while present, are not explored in depth, and the broader cultural context surrounding the crime is only lightly touched upon. The documentary is less interested in the “why” of the crime than in the “what now” of its aftermath. However, there is an exciting cat-and-mouse chase when the suspected killer is on the run, and the police and FBI must track them down.
Ultimately, The Truth and Tragedy of Moriah Wilson is a quiet, compassionate piece of filmmaking. It doesn’t seek to shock or to solve, but to honor and to understand. In doing so, it offers something rare within the true crime genre: a space not for speculation, but for empathy. When the legal proceedings do come into focus, justice, the film suggests, is not a clean resolution but a complicated, often unsatisfying attempt at closure. And in that space, Mo’s life continues to resonate through those who refuse to let it be reduced to a headline.
Director: Alice Maio Mackay Writers: Alice Maio Mackay, Benjamin Pahl Robinson Stars: Alexandra McVicker, Scott Major, Charlotte Chimes
Synopsis: After escaping her transphobic hometown, Anna meets goth tattoo artist Gen. They bond over shared supernatural abilities, but Gen’s tattoo work accidentally conjures a demon before their romance can bloom.
As a cisgender woman, I’ll never fully understand the hardships trans women go through. It’s hard enough living in a patriarchal world as a femme-presenting woman, and when transphobia enters the equation, trans folks face obstacles that increase in severity exponentially. The Serpent’s Skin is Alice Maio Mackay’s sixth feature film, which opens viewers’ eyes to see the world through a trans woman’s perspective. It is an exciting fairytale-like love story with a witchy edge.
Mackay tells us this transgender film, as indicated by the film’s opening credits, through Anna (Alexandra McVicker), who just embarks on a journey for herself to get out of a transphobic town where she lives with her non-accepting parents. It’s a sad reality that many trans people face, and a realization for those not in their shoes that even places marginalized people inhabit, like their childhood home, don’t feel safe. Anna goes to live with her sister Dakota (Charlotte Chimes), but as accepting as her sister is, rent has to be paid, and Anna begins her job search.
Finding a job is nerve-wracking enough, let alone when you just move to a new city. Add in the stress of trying to find friends to make it easier to transition into social spaces; needless to say, Anna finds more than what she imagined she would. In a steamy hook-up with the neighborhood hunk Danny (Jordan Dulieu), Anna begins to have visions of a dark-haired woman that doesn’t feel like a stranger. The Serpent’s Skin doesn’t shy away from the intimate scenes and shows a healthy sex life of a young woman enjoying life as her true self.
Anna has a somewhat chaotic life, attracting increasingly strange and unusual situations. Like when she lands a job at a music store, in fact, it’s the first place she even inquires about a job, getting an on-the-spot training session to see how it goes. She’s a natural and has a kind, welcoming personality. Making it much more upsetting when she finds herself in danger during a shift, being assaulted during a robbery, leaving a gash from hitting her head.
But once again, she sees visions of a mysterious dark-haired woman, this time giving her the courage to stand up and face the robber, making him leave with his tail between his legs. When Anna eventually meets face-to-face with the woman she’s been having thoughts of, she introduces herself as Gen (Avalon Fast). Their connection and physical attraction toward one another are felt instantly, and it’s easily The Serpent’s Skin‘s most heartwarming aspect: two people who feel made for one another. Gen is a tattoo artist who essentially tells Anna that they are connected because they are both as close to witches as one can be.
Their love story is incredibly well done, and I felt myself swooning at both of these women falling for one another. Through the many lessons that Gen gives Anna involving their powers, they look out for those around them from being hurt. Though Anna is more reckless with her newfound powers, she takes scaring off bad guys too far. When a monster spawns in their town, seemingly an outcome of the witches’ powers, they figure out how to save their dearest loved ones.
The Serpent’s Skin has such an exciting screenplay from Mackay and fellow writer Benjamin Pahl Robinson. It’s refreshing to see a romantic relationship that shows love through a trans lens. Firstly, it’s an intoxicating romance between two women, especially through Mackay’s vision. Secondly, Anna is a sexually active person and has her fair share of sexual encounters. But there’s a real dedication to representing how trans women have to face sex in different ways than cis women, and it’s something that is rarely explored in film. Altering their partner beforehand to inform them that they are a trans woman, and breathing a sigh of relief when they are met with overwhelming acceptance.
There’s a nostalgic essence to The Serpent’s Skin, like it’s a film that was thought to be lost in the ‘90s and resurfaced all these years later. From the pink glow of Gen and Anna’s eyes when their powers are being used, to the design of the monster they awaken. And if you’ve seen any of Mackay’s other films such as T Blockers or Satanic Panic, then you’ll know that there’s a unique haze to her films that makes the use of bright neon lights pop that much more. It’s a joy to watch a filmmaker with such a unique vision be able to bring it to life with such confidence.
Admittedly, this is the first performance of McVicker I’ve seen, but her work as Anna is addictive to watch. She makes Anna such a lovable and approachable character, one that, at the end of the day, is just looking for a connection. It helps that McVicker herself is trans, making her character that much more captivating to watch. Her shared moments with Fast are some of the film’s best work, and Fast really knows how to lay on the charm, making their love feel intense and worthy of fighting for when need be.
Mackay’s films are some of the most unique I’ve had the pleasure of watching; the visual allure of them is reminiscent of the cover of a Goosebumps novel. The Serpent’s Skin has a timeless aspect to it, maybe because it’s a trans story that we’ve heartbreakingly heard from someone we know. Or the love-at-first-sight romance we’ve all been through. Making it an instant trans classic that not only is yearningly romantic but a riot with its use of witchy magic.
This week on Women InSession, we discuss Halina Reijn’s erotic thriller Babygirl and why it’s such a captivating depiction of sex and womanhood! Reijn has openly talked about how the film is meant to explore the gap between men and women sexually, and breaking the stigma’s that are often associated kinks and specific desires. It goes without saying, but we had the best time with this one.
Panel: Megan Kearns, Jaylan Salah, Amy Thomasson
On that note, check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!
ComMANNdment #8: Thou Shall Explore “Good vs Evil”
Yes – the battle of “Good vs Evil” is at the heart of most storytelling because we want our protagonist to triumph over the antagonist. It is not a shocker that Michael Mann leans into this mode of storytelling, especially given how many of his films revolve around crime, war, and/or the legal system. However, Mann does not rest easy with these broad parameters in his filmmaking and often the ideas of “Good” and “Evil” are blurred and blend together.
Mann blending criminal activity with law enforcement sworn to protect and serve starts with his first theatrical feature film, Thief. Here we have three separate groups: Frank’s crew, Leo’s organization, and the Chicago PD. At a surface level, the separation of these units may be obvious: Frank and his team are crooks and therefore inherently bad; they go to work for Leo (whom we come to find out is incredibly diabolical) and now all of our evil is lumped together; and this leaves us with the Chicago detectives that are only motivated by doing right and keeping the city clean of crime. Except that most of what I just wrote is untrue: the police are just as corrupt as Frank and Leo. The disparity between good and evil is almost non-existent. It doesn’t matter that Frank has a code (no home break-ins, no cowboy jobs), “Good vs Evil” here (and in most Mann films) are two sides of the same coin.
Similarly to Thief, The Keep also plays with the many sides of “Good vs Evil.” As the movie begins, we are initially set up with the soldiers as bad and the villagers as good. But as the movie progresses, we realize that the Russian soldiers are being ordered by higherups of the SS. By no means does this excuse their actions, but this lets us know that they are being controlled. The issues of concentration camps come up and “Good vs Evil” continues to be explored, but we see that a good person like Dr. Cuza can be led into the realm of evil once he is manipulated by Molasar. And it is the Molasar/Glaeken relationship that really puts the “Good vs Evil” theme into prominence: Molasar wanting to destroy everything and Glaeken doing everything possible to put Molasar back into the depths of the keep.
Let’s start with the overt “Good vs Evil” examples in Manhunter: Graham vs Dolarhyde & Lecktor. Lecktor has been imprisoned already for his evil deeds (of which in this film we only glean so much information) and Dolarhyde is targeting families and killing for no other reason than for them to be witnesses to his great transformation. Graham is our hero in this journey: the man who has stopped one killer and has been reluctantly brought back in to do it again. We know this story and we know how reliable it is at keeping us enraptured. However, there are varying degrees of evil and it is worth bringing up the characters Freddie Lounds and Jack Crawford. Freddie is a parasite whose gains only arrive at the suffering of others – true terrible tabloid tactics on display. When Freddie meets his demise, it’s the first death in the movie we don’t overtly mourn: Freddie has been as asshole or advantageous in all the wrong ways. But it is also worth mentioning Crawford here. Is he trying to stop the next family from being murdered before the next full moon? He sure is. Does he go to Will, who has seemingly retired, because he knows that Will cannot say no to trying to save the next family? YES – and Crawford even exclaims later in the movie that he would do it again. One of the world’s necessary evils is putting people into uncomfortable situations for them to give you the answer that you believe is right. While Crawford may not have any malicious intent in going to Graham for help, he nevertheless knows exactly what he is asking of him despite Graham’s post-traumatic stress.
On the battlefield, lines are often blurred between “Good vs Evil” or right and wrong. For the characters living in the world of The Last of the Mohicans and for those living through the French-Indian War, “Good vs Evil” was all a matter of perspective. With the framing device as set by Michael Mann, the only real good side that we can see is our last Mohicans: Uncas, Chingachgook, and Nathaniel. We see people shift and support these three as the movie goes on: the initial settlers that our Mohicans break bread with that first night, Cora & Alice, and even Duncan to a degree given his final sacrifice to set Cora free. If we think about these people as good or tangentially related to good, then our evil side would be both the French and the Huron tribe with hyperfocus given to one of the greatest villains set to screen: Magua. Two things to mention here: 1) Magua’s villainy, and 2) if is he evil. Speaking to playing a villain, what all actors who play villainous characters want is the REASON: why does my character think and feel the way they do? Too many times villains have weak objectives or motivations fueled purely by monetary gains…but not Magua. What Magua wants is not only the satisfaction of killing Colonel Munro as revenge for the death of his children, but he wants to kill Cora and Alice and wipe Munro’s seed off of the earth forever. Now, that all sounds evil…UNLESS you see it from Magua’s perspective, in which case the evil lies within the British forces. So, what we have here is an issue of optics – an issue that makes the “Good vs Evil” argument even more enthralling in this picture.
Neil and Vincent are flipsides of the same coin – this we know. “Good vs Evil” in this relationship is really a matter of perspective. Should Neil and his crew be robbing and killing people? No – but they seem to have fairly decent family lives (maybe no Chris and Charlene, but they have their moments). We know Vincent is not a great husband, but does that make him evil? Of course not. No, for the film Heat, true evil lies in the actions of Waingro. Early on, his choices and character decisions make sense: shooting the armored car guard was motivated only from an urge to kill. It could be argued that Waingro becomes so evil that he should have been given a handlebar mustache and villainous laugh: making him a serial rapist/murderer is awful, but adding the swastika on his chest – do we need that? Regardless of your answer, it is clear that evil only exists through Waingro, whose death is the only one that makes me do a mini fist pump every time I watch the film.
The Insider may be the best example Mann has of “Good vs Evil” as it pertains to the stoic and proud individual standing up to big business. The structure of our story gives us two examples of this and both only exist to bolster the other. We clearly start with Wigand: a man within big tobacco fired for disagreeing with the way decisions were being made. When Brown & Williamson get the scent that he may be breaking his confidentiality agreement, they relentlessly go after him. They start to follow him, stalk him from one house to the next, and ultimately issue death threats both explicitly and implicitly with the bullet in the mailbox. When these scare tactics don’t work and Wigand decides to do the interview with Mike Wallace, big tobacco immediately begin the smear campaign to discredit Wigand. So we have example one: Wigand vs Big Tobacco. In trying to tell Wigand’s story, Lowell gets presented with the term “tortious interference” by Helen Caperelli (Gina Gershon), a term that states CBS Corporate could be held liable for damages because they convinced Wigand to talk. This infuriates Bergman, but ultimately he is abandoned by his CBS News cohorts to fight this battle on his own, thus brining us example two – Bergman vs CBS. What makes this “Good vs Evil” example different is that Bergman can take more active steps to combat the situation: discrediting what is being dug up about Wigand, exposing the truth about what happened in a private meeting, and never giving up on Wigand. Jeffrey is not as lucky and most of the time he is reacting to what is happening to him. Our two stories of “Good vs Evil” here work tremendously well together for storytelling purposes and proves that sometimes fighting the good fight means going at it alone.
Now is a good time to note that the subtitle to this ComMANNdment revolves around corruption and greed, which can be seen all over the film Ali. Corruption can be seen prominently in the subplot revolving around Malcolm X, Ali, and the world of Islam. Malcolm is seen as a Black radical and is currently being followed by the FBI. We are presented with a tough equation: how can an agency meant to protect the interests of America through stones at a man for speaking out using his 1st Amendment rights? A corrupt government wanting to only have certain religious beliefs said by people who are white is on display. If we focus on the main story, Ali is being taken advantage of constantly and is not always fully aware of it. His managers and contacts within the Nation of Islam only are supportive of him when he is winning, but once he refuses induction for military service, the Islamic leaders turn their back on Ali. Not unlike both Wigand and Bergman in The Insider, Ali becomes a man with a mission to restore his name and earn back the championship that he feels like truly belongs to him.
Max and Vincent in Collateral don’t just represent “Good vs Evil” in very literal terms, but also that they have the capacity for emotion and empathy. With Max, we meet a person who seems entirely genuine and open to human connection. As a cabbie for 12 years, Max has clearly learned when to engage with his customers and when to stay silent. Max has a real depth for understanding body language and tonal shifts, almost acting as a therapist in the front seat. Vincent, on the other hand, either does not know how to show emotions, does not know what emotions are, or only has the gears of rage and determination. The pure villainy that Cruise brings to Vincent is what sets up this dichotomy between our two leads. Max, who may be motivated but lives purely in his daydreams, is upended when this unstoppable force enters his cab. He is confronted with a worldview that is so foreign to him: at one point Vincent brings up the genocide in Rwanda and how Max most likely didn’t have a strong reaction to it, but when Vincent “offs one fat Angeleno” Max throws “a hissy fit.” We find ourselves with true representatives of “Good vs Evil,” but the good in Max is only brought to the forefront because of the intense evil of Vincent. Max can’t grow until Vincent enters his cab.
When we think of the police or government agencies, we assume these are people who want to wholly uphold the law and protect the innocent from the evil that lurks around the corner. As we have come to discover in Mann’s cinematic universe, people are fallible and greed can seduce even the most pure-hearted amongst us. Miami Vice shows that there are varying degrees of evil: just when we think Jose Yero (John Ortiz) is the big bad in the film, we meet Luis Tosar as Montoya and we understand the depths of the evil on display. What essentially launches the film is that the FBI unit run by Ciaran Hinds’ character was ratted out – this is how our Miami squad gets involved. And it is this level of distrust built up in other agencies that leads to the plan to use different days of the week regarding shipments to figure out just what agency is leaking information. But Miami Vice also gets us to look at the people who may be considered less evil; characters whose backstories are a bit tragic and are only doing what they’re doing to make a living. Isabella is really set forward as a character who can be redeemed because she only works with finances and numbers, but it becomes clear that she works directly with Montoya and is not innocent at all. Her beauty and brilliance really messes with Sonny to the point that one of our essential good guys has been compromised because he has gone too far with her. The “Good vs Evil” lines in this film are blurry at best, and I truly appreciate that about the film because that’s how life is. Borders are hard to define and the good and the bad in Miami Vice are the same way.
Mann revisits the thematic makeup of characters from Thief in Public Enemies. With the former, James Caan plays a career burglar with a code about what scores he takes down and a clear path forward with his life. In the latter, John Dillinger robs banks without taking the money of patrons and hopes for a future somewhere far away with Billie. Taking in the rest of Mann’s filmography, it is easy to see that he is interested in criminals with hearts and moral compasses. Mann also knows that what every character like this needs is someone chasing them: the law. With Public Enemies, we are presented with Melvin Purvis – a man who is trying his utmost to bring the burgeoning FBI into mainstream prominence and respect. Purvis also has a code and is a respectable and formidable foe for Dillinger to face off against. But because the world isn’t just black & white, the range of “Good vs Evil” get blurred. Purvis has a young officer on his crew, Agent Harold Reinecke, who both physically and psychologically tortures Billie until Purvis can intervene. Dillinger does a score with Babyface Nelson, a man with no code that he cannot stand. “Good vs Evil” have many shapes and sizes, but when put into a corner those with seemingly “good” qualities may inadvertently seek help from those who are bad.
Considering that so many of Mann’s films deal with criminal activity, it is interesting that this is the first time I am bringing up the concept that “money is the root of all evil.” Within Blackhat, think about how many terrible events happen because some Aussie wanted money: the stock exchange was manipulated causing those affected by soy markets to live in fear and chaos, a nuclear plant exploded killing dozens and injuring more, and a shootout occurred during a peaceful night in Jakarta. Money drives people to do the worst things, but Blackhat succeeds at making it more complicated with the anonymity of the internet. How do we catch criminals we cannot see? How do we understand motives when demands are only given via messages? Evil lurks around every corner and the world wide web is full of them. When Hathaway meets evil face to face, we almost fear it less because now we know who we are dealing with. When our enemies hide in the shadows and our imagination is all we have, that’s when evil feels the scariest.
“Good vs Evil” can lie within one person – we all possess the emotions and thoughts to be wonderfully nice and terribly malicious. Enzo Ferrari is a complex character/person, and in this film we find him at a complicated period in his life. And whether you find the following examples I give as “Good vs Evil” or not, it is worth noting that Enzo’s actions and reactions prove the complicated nature of the human mind. As I don’t want to step too much on ComMANNdment #9, I will be brief here. The script plants an expected payoff early in the film: Piero really wants his father to get De Portago’s autograph. So much of the film goes by that as an audience we start to feel like Enzo is not going to do it. It’s just an autograph, it’s not that important, maybe he can meet him in the future: these are all possible thoughts that could have been going through Enzo’s mind. However, right before the Mille Miglia and right before the last moment he could have asked, Enzo pulls through and gets the autograph. HOORAY!!!! A noble ACTION done for his son, but Enzo also has a rather heartless REACTION. When Castelotti is trying to take the track record back, his wife is also there. After Castelotti’s accident, his wife goes running towards him and an ambulance drives onto the track, but Ferrari barely does anything. He turns his head to the side and utters to De Portago “Call my office on Monday.” And that’s it – Enzo does not mourn or seem sad. He asks Laura to send a check to Castelotti’s widow, but out of formality only and without any empathy. Enzo Ferrari contains multitudes, as do we all, but this film really expresses just how easily it is to go from good to evil and back and forth.
Director: Howard J. Ford Writers: Howard J. Ford Stars: John Rhys-Davies, Sarah Alexandra Marks, Louis James
Synopsis: Six young friends investigate missing persons cases in a remote cave system, unaware they’re being stalked by an ancient creature lurking in the depths
There’s a certain comfort in a well-worn horror setup: a remote location, a half-forgotten legend, and a group of curious souls walking straight into danger. Bone Keeper, written and directed by Howard J. Ford, delivers a creature feature that leans heavily on atmosphere, folklore, and the creeping dread of the unseen.
The film opens with an intriguing hook. A cosmic fireball crashes into a dense woodland, awakening something ancient, or perhaps something newly arrived. The prologue then jumps to 1976, where a young ambitious adventurer (Wheeler) ventures into a cave in search of answers, only to vanish without a trace. All that remains is a fragment of Super 8 footage: a fleeting, grainy silhouette that sets the tone for everything that follows. It’s a strong beginning, tapping into the classic phrase curiosity killed the cat.
Decades later, Wheeler’s granddaughter Olivia leads a small group of explorers back into those same caves, in a search and rescue, determined to uncover the truth behind the so-called “Bone Keeper.” From here, Bone Keeper shifts into more familiar territory, part found-footage homage, part survival-horror, as the group descends deeper underground and, inevitably, into danger.
Sarah Alexandra Marks anchors the film as the emotionally invested lead, bringing a sense of personal stakes that elevates the narrative beyond a simple monster hunt. Her performance is grounded and believable, particularly as the film leans into the psychological toll of isolation and fear. Her character is overshadowed, she needed a true standout emotional moment, and unfortunately that didn’t happen. There is a very dramatic, weird moment toward the end which Marks plays very convincingly.
Around her, the ensemble, including Louis James and Tiffany Hannam-Daniels, serves their roles effectively, even if their characters occasionally fall into familiar genre archetypes. James’ character is one we’ve seen him play before in Howard J Ford films, a rude, sarcastic guy you dislike, who then redeems himself with a heroic end. It’s repetitive but he does it so well.
John Rhys-Davies presence lends the film a touch of gravitas. While his role is more peripheral than some might expect, his involvement adds a layer of credibility. He’s a great addition whose character’s motives will keep you guessing.
Where Bone Keeper truly excels is in its use of setting. The caves are oppressive, labyrinthine, and convincingly disorienting. The sense of claustrophobia is one of horror’s most reliable tools, and this film uses it well. Filmed in Wales, the cold weather and misty mountains bring the film to life.
The creature itself, kept largely in shadow, is another strength. The glimpses we do get are fleeting and unsettling, leaving enough to the imagination to maintain a sense of mystery. The mythology surrounding the “Bone Keeper” is sketched rather than fully explained, which works in the film’s favor, even if it may leave some viewers wanting more strong visuals and jumpscares.
That said, the film isn’t without its shortcomings. Pacing is an issue, it’s quite a slow burner of a beginning and in the middle act the narrative occasionally stalls as characters wander, argue, and repeat information the audience has already grasped. There’s also a slight imbalance between concept and character. While the premise is strong, the script doesn’t always dig deeply enough into the relationships within the group, which can make some of the later emotional beats feel less impactful than intended. In a story where survival is key, investment in the characters is crucial, and here, it’s just a shade underdeveloped.
With a strong final act and creepy ending, Bone Keeper is an engaging addition to the indie horror landscape. Its World Premiere at FrightFest Glasgow feels like a natural fit, as the film embodies the festival’s spirit: bold ideas, atmospheric execution, and a clear love for the genre. Bone Keeper leaves you with that familiar, lingering unease; the sense that some places are better left unexplored, and some legends exist for a reason. The film is a must-watch for indie horror fans.
On this episode of Chasing the Gold, Shadan is joined by Sari Cohen to discuss this year’s SXSW Film Festival and the movies that stood out to us the most! There were some great docs, some memorable horror films and a few notable films that could make its way into awards season by year’s end.
Check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!
Director:James McAvoy Writers:Gavin Bain, Billy Boyd, Elaine Gracey Stars: James McAvoy, Amber Anderson, James Corden
Synopsis: Two Scottish lads from Dundee conned the music industry by pretending to be an established Californian rap duo, bagging a record deal and appearing on MTV until their scam unraveled..
If the music industry has always thrived on image, California Schemin’ asks a deliciously uncomfortable question: what happens when the image is entirely fabricated? Directed by James McAvoy, this stranger-than-fiction story follows two working-class lads from Dundee who successfully convinced the industry they were a Californian rap duo, long enough to land a record deal and even appear on MTV, before the illusion inevitably cracked.
It’s a premise that sounds almost too outrageous to be true, and yet that improbability becomes the film’s greatest strength. From the outset, California Schemin’ leans into the absurdity of its central con. Two young men, armed with little more than ambition, nerve, and a carefully constructed persona, navigate an industry that proves surprisingly willing to believe what it wants to believe.
McAvoy proves a confident presence behind the camera, balancing humor with a sharper observational edge. The scam itself is undeniably entertaining; there’s a mischievous energy in watching the duo build their alter egos, refine their accents, and step into a world that feels galaxies away from Dundee. The music industry is portrayed as both gatekeeper and enabler; eager for authenticity, yet oddly blind to it when it’s staring them in the face.
The screenplay maintains a lively rhythm. There’s an awareness that, beneath the surface-level comedy, lies a more complex story about identity, aspiration, and the performative nature of success. It’s the one-liners that will make you laugh, ‘tele-com Jesus’ and ‘Beverly Hills council estate’ being some examples. Scenes like teaching grannies to rap on a coach to London are the exact type of content our screens need. They’re wholesome, relatable, and not exaggerated to the point where they’re unbelievable.
Performances across the board are excellent. The central duo, whose journey anchors the film, is portrayed with a balance of cheek and vulnerability, ensuring they’re more than just punchline machines. Seamus McLean Ross (Gavin) and Samuel Bottomley (Billy) give an honest and undeniable performance. They’re charming and simply sweet on screen, and their characters are so easy to root for. What’s hilarious is that the dynamic duo doesn’t sound (or look) the part, but you want them to be better and succeed. They do get better, though. Ross has some lovely, emotional moments towards the end, showing audiences what he’s capable of as an actor.
James Corden brings his usual charisma to a supporting role, adding a hilarious layer of industry satire – his rapping is unmatched. Lucy Halliday’s character, Mary, injects perspective, bringing the story and the boys back to reality. McAvoy is a standout as always, stealing every scene with his sharp, serious tone.
The idea that you can simply decide to be someone else, and have the world accept it, is both empowering and deeply unsettling. The film plays with that tension, allowing the audience to revel in the audacity of the con while gradually recognizing its fragility. Inevitably, the story turns. As the cracks begin to show, the tone shifts subtly. Our loveable duo are slowly pulled apart, and tensions rise as Gavin wants to continue this facade, going deeper and deeper into the fame and fortune, and Billy wants to come clean. There’s the reality of how quickly the world can turn against you; they’ll tear you from the pedestal they put you on, and it’ll be your fault.
The film does occasionally skim over the deeper implications of its premise. Consequences and stakes do emerge, but don’t feel high enough. The only stake is between Billy and Mary’s relationship, which is emotional, but Gavin’s character needed a stronger reason to continue lying other than not liking Scotland. When the boys do come clean, Gavin spirals into drug and alcohol abuse, but it’s brief. With one final rap, it’s a gentle, poignant ending to an energetic film.
California Schemin’ is an engaging and joyful ride. It’s a story about ambition taken to its most illogical extreme, about the power of belief, and about an industry that sometimes values the myth as much as the music. In a world obsessed with image, California Schemin’ opens ideas on identity, reality, and faking it until you make it. A must-watch film!
Director: Kristoffer Borgli Writer: Kristoffer Borgli Stars: Zendaya, Robert Pattinson, Alana Haim
Synopsis:A happily engaged couple is put to the test when an unexpected turn sends their wedding week off the rails.
Director Kristoffer Borgli is known for helming dark comedies, tackling themes of cancel culture in his previous feature, Dream Scenario, and the unhinged lengths that narcissism goes to in Sick of Myself. The Drama represents his most audacious outing yet, balancing the tonal inflections of squirmy cringe comedy and stress-inducing drama that surround the real-world ramifications of its twist. Borgli is great at delving into the hilarity of these bleak confrontations and giving nuance to the subject matter at hand, but like his previous films, it lacks in a few key elements that keep it from being great, mainly residing in the deeper commentary that is touched upon effectively enough but always comes across as more that was waiting to be explored within difficult conversations. Still, thanks to a remarkably committed cast and Zendaya and Robert Pattinson rolling within the recoils of awkwardness in this story, it makes for a uniquely unhinged dramedy that’s as funny as it is thought-provoking around the conceit of love being or not being enough.
We begin the road to a wedding disaster following a happily engaged couple, Emma (Zendaya) and Charlie (Robert Pattinson). They’re about one week away from their wedding, and the preparations have been in full swing. The film’s editing stands out from the get-go, flashing us back to Emma and Charlie’s meet-cute and date where Charlie first discovers his girlfriend is deaf in one ear, as their first meeting begins awkwardly but has a cute, goofy charm to it. Their clumsily sweet chemistry is showcased in full as they both deliberate on the speeches to give and songs to dance to with the big night ever approaching.
Things start to take a turn, however, when, while walking on the street, Charlie and Emma see their wedding DJ smoking heroin just across from them. This sight leads to a discussion later in the night with their married friends Rachel (Alana Haim) and Mike (Mamoudou Athie) over a round of drinks, where they all reveal the worst thing they’ve ever done. It starts as a cutesy convo at first, revealing bad secrets through comedic banter until Emma’s incredibly bad secret flips the entire movie on its head, sending the couple and their friends into tough questions about morality and the impending wedding, essentially becoming a collision course.
The Drama’s tonal balance is like walking the world’s highest tightrope while juggling blades of fire. Borgli’s screenplay constantly shifts between the most absurdist comedy and the brutally bleak reality surrounding the psyche of nearly every character here and their response to the subject matter. The dark satire matched with nuanced conversations will test the limits of many audience members, but the movie manages to nail the balancing act thanks to the performances at its center and the shocking, brilliant usage of technical elements on display. The editing by Joshua Raymond Lee and Borgli is simply exquisite as the film takes its shift into darker territory within its second act. Scenes can often have a nightmarish quality to them, where the stressful cuts between flashbacks and fantasy create a mood where every sense of tension hits you like a ton of bricks. The cringe of anxious laughter followed by the shock of each revelation makes the viewer question their own judgment as the movie brings up further queries about what it really means to be unconditionally loved or acts as a stabbing, reflective critique of the obsessively juvenile and performative nature of our American culture.
Borgli’s screenplay sometimes falls short of its desire to ruffle as many feathers as possible, but the performances from the whole cast manage to elevate the flatter elements on the page. Alana Haim’s “holier than thou” Rachel particularly stands out within the supporting cast as someone whose hypocrisy shines bright, essentially claiming self-righteous superiority after the film’s central revelation with a standout speech in the third act, but Zendaya and Pattinson are electric on the screen. Pattinson’s Charlie is essentially a pressure cooker of slow but sure loss of sanity as the revelation grows in gossip and his charmingly weird demeanor dissipates as the events of the week go further off the rails, trying to make the indefensible defensible.
Zendaya’s role acts as a more tricky situation as there are key moments where the development of Emma needed something a bit more to fully earn more of the surprisingly bittersweet elements of the story as it concludes emphasizing more of the romance instead of the comedy, but this role is right up with Challengers in giving the widest range of emotions she’s had to play with yet. She tackles the thorniness of every conversation, wonderfully balancing the unhinged comedy and dramatic reveals in the third act so well. The two leads act as the perfect antithesis to the wide array of tones in the writing, and the questions are left to ponder over as the credits roll.
The aforementioned aspect of the film brings up more questions than answers surrounding its horrific real-life subject matter; rather than getting even further into the weeds of it, it will leave some a drift to the movie’s gestures, but it acts more in the film’s favor in a majority of cases. When sitting in the discomfort of something thrown straight in your face that’s no laughing matter, it forces you to question your own morality and whether it is just how possible it is to justify the past complexities, no matter how terrible they truly are, and while the lack of answers can be frustrating, it only adds to the movie’s overall twisted unconventionality.
The Drama is sure to be a discourse storm, with varied options across the spectrum, but Kristoffer Borgli crafts a successful pitch-black rom-com that tests the limits of its dramedy while also delivering on its bittersweet dynamics and unhinged cringe comedy in equal measure. Even within its more shaky components, thanks to the chemistry of its two leads and unbelievably stressful reveals, The Drama will stand out as one of 2026’s most unconventional films, completely reveling in its prickly complexities.
Synopsis: Julia Loktev documents independent journalists in Moscow facing government crackdown as Russia invades Ukraine, capturing their fight for speech amid risks of being branded “foreign agents” and the country’s drift towards authoritarianism.
Long films can be a big ask for some viewers, as evidenced by a nearly constant misunderstanding of what editors do for a living. But there is no ideal length for a movie, it all just depends. A perfect example of this is the documentary, My Undesirable Friends: Part 1 – Last Air in Moscow. Much has been made of its 5 hour and 24 minute runtime, and even more has been made over the fact that this is only part one. The length of this film is both the point and besides the point. The long form documentary has now generally been relegated to the streaming television world, which is both good and bad. It is hard to expect people to spend nearly a work shift in a theater and streaming offers more opportunities for films to be seen. However, there is a great deal to be gained by watching this film straight through, although there are chapter breaks built in for rest periods, should they be needed.
For anyone concerned about the encroachment of government overreach, regardless of location, My Undesirable Friends will hit uncomfortably close to home. As we are introduced to the many young people, mostly women, who populate this documentary, there is an energy and a sense of hope, even if we know that most of it will evaporate, given current events. The focus on TV Rain, which was supposed to be a fun, young, new station, is a perfect metaphor for what powerful governments do to their people. As it quickly transforms into a news station that is in direct opposition to government funded news in Russia, the individuals become “radical” by necessity. The title of the film becomes clear, derived from the message that must be placed before each and every broadcast (as well as their personal social media posts): stating that the information on the broadcast is from foreign agents, serving outside forces. This is, of course, blatantly untrue, but it enables them to continue broadcasting for the time being. And for the time, this is truly the last free breath of air in a country ravaged by overreach.
The film is broken into five chapters, with obvious time lapses between each. It begins in October of 2021, and ends in March of 2022, with the Russian invasion into Ukraine. Despite the terrifying situations shown in the day-to-day, interestingly, much of the bad news takes place interstitially. Often, the chapters end with a hopeful closing, only to be undone by text detailing what has happened in the interim. When viewers finish the final chapter (of part one), it will seem incredible that less than a year has passed in the lives of these subjects. They are almost unrecognizable, from an emotional standpoint, in comparison to the people we were introduced to in Chapter 1. And this is an important lesson, given without a sermon from director Julia Loktev. Loktev clearly has a rapport with her subjects that allows for honesty, both from a professional and personal standpoint. We are allowed to see not only their desire for a better world, but their struggles in relationships. Her minimal interruptions serve to make us feel like we are connected to their difficulties and her camera becomes less noticeable and intrusive as the time passes, yet another advantage to the film’s length.
The timing of this documentary was both upsetting and fortuitous from a filmmaking perspective. World events obviously shaped the inherent drama following these reporters, but it is their humanity that shines through. It becomes impossible to separate their difficulties from our own, despite a separation of thousands of miles. One might wonder how a documentary could fill this amount of time, but any of the women focused on here could have their own full-length documentary, as they all have struggles that make them intensely and immediately relatable.
In the first chapter, one of the main foci is Anna Nemzer. And yes, she is an on-air reporter, but she is also, just as importantly, a mother. As she drives through Moscow with her child in the backseat, she is like us, desperately attempting to explain the unexplainable. People in large cities are even more aghast at the controlling nature of fascistic governments. The unthinkable becomes not only possible, but probable. State control, even in a city of millions, is now the norm, unless you fall in line with what they want, an impossibility for a person of morality.
Later, we hear the story of Ksyusha, whose fiancée has been arrested by the government at some point earlier. Watching her struggles with frustration, loneliness, and rage all balanced with the reminders of her youth. She, like many others, is forced to face problems that would be impossible at any age. As she vacillates between trying to distract herself and processing the overwhelming sadness of possibly leaving the country, one cannot help but put themselves in her shoes. Would I have the strength to stay because of how it would impact those close to me that I am not allowed to see? I hope so, but watching this internal strength is both inspiring and rage-inducing. This young woman, who simply wants to do the right thing, is blockaded into decisions that have no correct answer.
And therein lies the trouble in our current world predicament, so perfectly echoed in this stunning, important documentary. As the government tightens its hold on certain inalienable rights, it becomes even more paramount to remember that it can move quickly. These women knew what was coming and made plans for an escape. The tearful goodbyes, the simmering rage at their leaders, the desire to simply enjoy a movie; it is all captured here and we cannot help but wish for a better world. But that is the trap. Wishing is not enough. Like these strong young women, actions must be taken. Even if they seem small, likely simply not parroting government talking points, every moment of truth makes us more human. They can call us traitors, undesirables, radicals, or whatever term they like. We live in hope that the pendulum will swing back and we can return to a sense of normality.
My Undesirable Friends: Part 1 – Last Air in Moscow is important, and not in the way we usually speak about movies. The parallels to our own experience in the United States are clear, and not because of a director weaving a fiction to lead us there. Instead, the clarity comes in opening our eyes and ears and feeling the human connection. A quest for truth, honesty, and a way through has been provided by Julia Loktev. She has enabled us to see a story we were not meant to see, and one that will repeat if we don’t have the strength to stand in the face of it. There are no guaranteed happy endings for the women in this documentary, they are bittersweet at best. Their survival and strength gives us hope and helps us to remember the importance of our freedom of speech and press, for as long as we have it.
