Director: Rob Savage

Writers: Scott Beck, Bryan Woods, and Mark Heyman

Stars: Sophie Thatcher, Chris Messina, Vivien Lyra Blair

Synopsis: High school student Sadie Harper and her younger sister, Sawyer, are still reeling from the recent death of their mother. They’re not getting much support from their father, Will, a therapist who’s dealing with his own intense pain. When a desperate patient unexpectedly shows up at their house seeking help, he leaves behind a terrifying supernatural entity that preys on families and feeds on the suffering of its victims.

Everything that master horror author Stephen King, who has created classic tales like Carrie, The Shining, and Pet Sematary, doesn’t turn into gold. And although I really respect his constant drive for creating horror stories decade through decade, there have been plenty of lackluster ones. An example is the short story included in King’s 1978 ‘Night Shift’ collection, The Boogeyman. The acclaimed genre auteur’s name isn’t enough to excite me to watch a feature anymore. You need a talented director who has their own voice and can translate that story from the pages onto the big screen successfully. I believed Rob Savage was once that director that could bring enough horrific pizzazz onto a project and make it its own, even if it’s an adaptation, because of his hit debut Host, which startled many horror cinema lovers during the pandemic. Unfortunately, the British filmmaker makes a highly disappointing feature that dwells in every genre trope imaginable, making it a tough watch due to its dullness. 

The Boogeyman centers around a sixteen-year-old girl named Sadie (Sophie Thatcher) and her ten-year-old sister, Sawyer (Vivien Lyra Blair), who are struggling to connect and move forward in the wake of their mother’s brutal passing. Their therapist father, Will Harper (Chris Messina), seems to be so isolated emotionally that he’s distant, not only to his patients, but also to his two daughters. After introducing these characters, a cheesy high school bully scene follows, inducing plenty of eye rolls. The dialogue feels that it was generated by an A.I. of some sort. Nonetheless, Sophie heads home after an altercation with the mean girl in the locker near her. And that’s when a strange man, Lester Billings (David Dastmalchian), knocks on Will’s door, asking him to understand his pain and the belief of a dark entity haunting his daily life. Haunted by the entity that personifies his grief and depression, Lester kills himself at the Harper house, paving the way for the creature to lurk in their hallways. 

Putting all of the cliches aside, the narrative is intriguing enough for the audience to put their attention into. Everything might not be sharply put together until this point, yet you go with it to see where it might lead. Unfortunately, it doesn’t go anywhere interesting. The biggest problem of them all is that The Boogeyman is, in all of its aspects , average and harmless – never having a unique identity of its own and choosing to go down a route that doesn’t deliver an emotional payoff. I heavily disliked Rob Savage’s previous feature, Dashcam. But, I’d prefer him to go broader into shlock-like horror cinema – with buckets of blood being spilled, people throwing up, foul-mouthed characters, and some experimental direction – because, in those films, he can express himself better as a filmmaker. Unfortunately, in these studio films, Savage is restrained from demonstrating his talents because he has to curate a film that targets the Stranger Things audience. 

With The Boogeyman, Savage presents us with one of the most bland and uninspired horror narratives this year. Not even the titular creature has a great design; it feels like a copy of a Demogordon, albeit without the flower-like head and with a more hound look to it. Some of the same problems I had with Scott Derickson’s The Black Phone, targeted to the same audience as this one, are repeated here. Both films frustratingly rely on the precise Stephen King horror tropes to the point where they are rendered indistinguishable and hollow. This is an issue because you can’t shake the feeling that we have seen this type of film before, and has been done better by filmmakers that make twists to the narrative or, at the very least, develop a unique directorial language to tell a commonly seen tale about the effects of grief and trauma, which seems to be the central theme in most recent big studio horror pictures. 

There are a few instances in which you see Rob Savage trying to breathe life into the film with some flashy lighting and using shadowplay. In those moments, you notice Savage’s gift of providing good scares. Yet, those moments are forgotten by the time the end credits arrive. The performances carry the emotional weight and heart that The Boogeyman has on its sleeve, particularly the leading girl Sophie Thatcher, Chris Messina, and the always fascinating (but ultimately wasted) Marin Ireland. Both Thatcher and Messina portray the drowning sensation grief puts onto you in a way that makes you believe in their pain. The former has several moments where she can express her desire for her mother to return with her facial expressions rather than by dialogue. Ireland has the most superficial role in the film compared with the two aforementioned actors. But she’s so engaging to watch, no matter the role, that you are excited to see her, even if it is for less than five minutes. 

Nevertheless, the cast can only go as far as the screenplay, rapidly filling in the tension and risk-less blanks. It sometimes feels as if Savage and his team of screenwriters barely want to create an inventive story. Every narrative beat has been seen before multiple times; cliches and tropes of teen-oriented horror pictures are at the forefront – the unnecessarily mean bully (whom Sadie slaps at one point in the movie and people cheered for some reason), the “you never listen to me” line and a literal fiery climax. You can see everything coming from a mile away. And since the direction is uninspired, the viewer doesn’t want to engage with what’s happening. Even when the actors have shared the respective ways they prepared for the role and to connect with them more, Thatcher created a playlist that resembles the feeling of a grief-hardened heart, every cinematic element in The Boogeyman seemed that there wasn’t any care or thought put into it. I have wanted to cheer Rob Savage’s career on since he made one of the very first highly effective pandemic horror films with Host. But, his latter works have made me hopeless to see him in top form again. 

Grade: D

Director: Celine Song

Writer: Celine Song

Stars: Greta Lee, Teo Yoo, John Magaro

Synopsis: Nora and Hae Sung, two deeply connected childhood friends, are wrest apart after Nora’s family emigrates from South Korea. 20 years later, they are reunited for one fateful week as they confront notions of love and destiny.

As humans, we’re only trying to do our best with what we’re given. Choices we make and the people who become a part of our short lives only happen through circumstance, chance, and ultimately, fate. Throughout, people will come and go and love will be had and lost, but the one thing you can never force in this world is fate.

Past Lives starts with our three characters, Nora (Greta Lee), Arthur (John Magaro), and Hae Sung (Teo Yoo) conversing at a bar while onlookers try to guess what their relation to one another is. Without delay, it jumps 24 years into the past to see a younger Nora (then Na Young) and her best friend, a younger Hae Sung. From a young age, the connection the two share is obvious and feels even more than friendship. However, when Na Young has to immigrate with her parents from Seoul to Canada, the bond they share becomes simply a memory.

Fast forward 12 years, and the two reconnect in their 20s after Hae Sung attempts to find Na Young, now Nora, through Facebook. She sees his attempts and reaches out to him looking to rekindle the dying flame. Through emails and plenty of Skype calls back and forth, they pick up as if they had never lost one another and their romance blossoms even more. That is until Nora, heartbreakingly, has to end it between them to focus on her current life, and not dwell in the past. After they end communication, she meets Arthur at a writer’s retreat over the Summer. The bond they share isn’t as quick, or as natural, as the one that is shared between Nora and Hae Sung, but it’s real.

12 years later, Nora and Arthur are now married and living in New York together, and Hae Sung is about to make a trip to see her in person for the first time in 24 years. From the first look shared between them, there is a feeling that is natural yet distant. The quiet walks and time shared feel like everything that should make for a pretty fantastic romance story, but, as shown throughout the film, not all romance is physical, and not all love is acted upon.

In her debut, writer/director Celine Song takes the quiet side of love and fate and creates something full of vibrancy. Her script is subtle, weaving in Nora and Hae Sung’s connections with poignancy, leaving some of the best moments left unsaid rather than spoken. Past Lives revolves heavily around the Korean/Buddhist term “In-Yun.” As explained in the film, this is an all-encompassing term that references fate or the ties two strangers share throughout their many lives. Sometimes the ties two people share bring them together in a way that is explored in their current life, and sometimes two people can feel so right for each other, but it just isn’t their time yet.

The love between Nora and Hae Sung is there, it is evident in every moment and the glances they share, but sometimes fate just gets in the way. While Song’s script beautifully articulates this notion, it’s her directing that truly shines. Her majestic sense of framing continuously shows how these two are so close to being perfect for one another, but there is constant space between them. Coming from a theater background makes sense given how well she positions her characters to tell a story visually rather than verbally. It might, at times, feel too precise, but it never once feels dull.

Bringing to life this vision are three performances worthy of awards consideration. Greta Lee, John Magaro, and Teo Yoo all find their place in this film. Magaro and Yoo, each playing a different half of Nora’s love. For Yoo, he is the theoretical love, someone who feels comforting to her in a fantastical way. While Magaro is the practical love, the person who is there and is present and makes sense. Each of these men wants what the other person has, and both of them effectively display the struggle that goes on with trying to be the right person for her. However, it’s Greta Lee’s transcendent performance that shines above the rest. Torn in two directions, it’s Lee who constantly has to make the impossible choice. Does she follow her heart or does she listen to fate? It’s a complex decision, especially in her case, in which one half feels right while the other half is right, and a choice is made near the end that is genuinely heartbreaking.

That’s because there are no right answers; no matter the choice made, someone will be hurt. Past Lives tells the story of the “right person, wrong time” in a gorgeously subtle way. Even if it can be too subtle at times, Song’s writing and directing help display a longingness of wanting to be the perfect person for someone, but fate makes other plans. The trio of actors all give stellar performances but it’s Greta Lee who should be remembered throughout the year. One of the most brutally honest love stories in quite some time.

Grade: B+

Director: Peter Atencio

Writers: Kevin Biegel and Scotty Landes

Stars: Bert Kreischer, Mark Hamill, Jimmy Tatro

Synopsis: Bert’s drunken past catches up with him 20 years down the road when he and his father are kidnapped by those Bert wronged 20 years ago while drunk on a college semester abroad in Russia.

Something that catches the short attention span of humans in the 21st century will likely be forgotten by the majority of us about an hour after we see it. We’ll see it again when someone shows it to us and we’ll agree with them that it’s a very funny thing. After about five or so viewings, it loses the spark. After a month, it’s likely gone. Then it’s three or four years later and there’s a movie adaptation because a producer saw the story potential and needed the rights to it, but film production is glacial compared to the internet. so It’s far too late. The moment has passed. So, here’s The Machine, a film that expands the world of a very funny story comedian Bert Kreischer tells during his stand up act that was captured on video and went viral.

The story is funny enough. Kreischer is funny when telling it. Yet, this new adventure Bert goes on is just O.K. The reason it never elevates beyond its source material is because it wants to be something more than just a wacky story. There is an emotional throughline in the film that is never earned. At one point Bert’s eldest daughter has an outburst at her birthday party. She starts crying and rather than the scene feeling real, it’s too intimate, too early. It’s stuck to the narrative like gum on a shoe.

This odd feeling is perpetuated by a lack of score in some of the beginning where jokes are supposed to be vulnerable and from a dark place, but fall flat. Without something underneath the tension never resolves. The jokes land with a thud. They’re funny and you know they’re funny, but unlike in the best kinds of cringe comedy, there’s not that good timing or reaction. It’s a bit of a Mike Myers effect where in the early scenes Bert has to be the only one who’s funny and the one who gets the best lines. Without music or a reaction to underscore it, he just looks like a complete jerk.

There are other pieces that don’t really fit as well. It’s mostly the action scenes. They are superbly choreographed and shot very well. They just don’t fit. They feel entirely tacked onto the film like they can be cut out and used for someone’s demo reel. Director Peter Atnecio already has a reputation as an action comedy director, but maybe he’s disappointed Marvel hasn’t brought him on for a project yet. The fight scenes make sense when Bert and Albert (Mark Hamill) get into it with some foes, but there’s no real need for so much Irina (Iva Babic) in full Black Widow mode kicking henchman keister some place else.

What is a delight to see is Mark Hamill. Hamill is so rarely given the opportunity to show off his talent outside of a Star War or some heightened version of himself that he’s a refreshing presence. He’s got such excellent comedic timing and he plays the nitpicking father so well. He’s the highlight of the film for sure.

There are enough laugh out loud one liners that the film isn’t utterly unwatchable. The Machine wants to be the kind of phenomenon that people talk about and word of mouth spreads, but it just doesn’t have the legs the original viral video had. Too much of it tries to be something it’s not, like an all out action film or an emotionally tinged comedy. It’s just so so, which can be a nice distraction from the summer heat.

Grade: C

Director: Ric Roman Waugh

Writer: Mitchell LaFortune

Stars: Gerard Butler, Navid Negahban, Ali Fazal

Synopsis: A CIA operative and his translator flee from special forces in Afghanistan after exposing a covert mission.

I think it’s safe to say that Gerard Butler has been typecast in a slew of B-level action pictures and is on track to become the next Liam Neeson. He even reunites with director Ric Roman Waugh for Kandahar. Waugh directed Butler in Angel Has Fallen and the surprisingly fun Greenland. One who expects Butler to go through an impossible mission to get to his family (that has been the plot of every Butler action film for a while now) may enjoy Kandahar. However, those looking for serious entertainment may leave the theater feeling disappointed. 

At least the action scenes are good. Waugh knows how to direct tight and exciting setpieces, ranging from a car chase inside a densely-packed market, a night vision battle between Tom Harris (Gerard Butler) and a helicopter, and a duel in the sand between Harris and ISI agent Kahlil (Ali Fazal). The latter is the coolest setpiece of the bunch, with Waugh and cinematographer MacGregor amping up the tension with long, wide shots, whilst editor Colby Parker Jr. cuts the confrontation with precision. The result is terrifically exciting and worth the price of admission for the big screen experience. 

Unfortunately, it takes a long time to get going. The film spends a good forty minutes setting up its multiple storylines, of many enemies going after Harris and translator Mo (Navid Neghaban) trying to flee Afghanistan to get to Kandahar after their cover is blown. There are perhaps way too many characters that, unfortunately, do not do much other than act in a brooding evil look. Fazal’s Khalil is a one-note ISI agent with a cool motorcycle. That’s it. He does nothing else but travel on his motorcycle, travel in a truck that carries his motorcycle, and then prepares his motorcycle to travel with it once more. At least it looks cool as hell. 

There’s a journalist character who gets kidnapped, which serves as a way for Waugh to insert a half-assed geopolitical commentary that goes absolutely nowhere, just like most of the film’s side characters. One character appears during a pivotal action scene, only for him to completely disappear during the rest of the film until he reappears at the end to reveal that he died. It’s as if the filmmakers forgot to show that he died in action. But since the side characters are so forgettable, maybe they thought no one would notice?

That said, Butler gives his all for the first time in a long time. He has phoned it in since starring in Olympus Has Fallen and hasn’t gotten any better with time. But in Kandahar, he seems to care about the bond between Harris and Mo genuinely, played with great emotional resonance by Negahban, who is one of the most underappreciated character actors working today (I’ll direct you to his work as The Shadow King in FX’s Legion). They’re why you slowly care about their quest because their performances are excellent. However, this exact story was done in a much better movie a month ago, with only a few differences: Guy Ritchie’s The Covenant (it also doesn’t help that I watched that film last week, which left quite an impression on me). 

In a sense, Kandahar is the Cannon Group version of Guy Ritchie’s The Covenant. It’s got great action and two great lead performances. However, the difference in quality between the two is staggering, especially when it tries to shoehorn a geopolitical commentary that doesn’t work since Waugh doesn’t do anything with his journalistic subplot. There’s a lot he’s trying to balance out in this film  — some of it works, but most of it doesn’t. As far as his collaborations go with Butler, it’s, unfortunately, his weakest, even if he manages to get a great performance out of him. Here’s hoping his next B-grade action film will be significantly better. 

Grade: C

Director: Rob Marshall

Writers: David Magee and John Musker

Stars: Halle Bailey, Jonah Hauer-King, Melissa McCarthy

Synopsis: A young mermaid makes a deal with a sea witch to trade her beautiful voice for human legs so she can discover the world above water and impress a prince.

While the ongoing debate surrounding Disney’s decision to adapt its older animated movies into live-action films continues, it is undeniable that these adaptations persist due to their financial success. The latest addition to this lineup, The Little Mermaid, not only aims to be profitable but also endeavors to capture the essence of the original animated classic while offering a fresh perspective. This recent rendition of the beloved Disney Renaissance tale manages to achieve this goal, although it is not without flaws. The film succeeds in bringing the enchanting story to the big screen, evoking a strong sense of nostalgia for Disney movies of the past. The Little Mermaid stands as one of the finest live-action adaptations released to date, if not the very best.

However, engaging with the film proves challenging from the start. While the breathtaking cinematography captures the mesmerizing and perilous nature of ocean waves, the story loses its momentum thereafter. The absence of an opening musical sequence, omitting both the sailor’s song and the introduction of the sisters, immediately raises concerns about the pacing, which persist throughout. It takes around 15 to 20 minutes before “Part of Your World” finally emerges as the film’s first musical sequence. This peculiar pacing sets the tone for the movie, struggling to strike a balance between providing an enjoyable and entertaining experience while grappling with scenes that feel necessary but uncomfortably protracted.

As one dives into the underwater realm, the captivating visual effects draw viewers into the story. While the film’s promotional campaign may have hinted at a more subdued color palette, the underwater world is surprisingly vibrant and colorful. However, there remains a pseudo-realistic quality that prevents complete immersion. In comparison to James Cameron’s Avatar: The Way of Water, which achieves near photorealism, The Little Mermaid retains a distinct animated quality. At times, it feels as though I am watching CGI recreations of the actors rather than the actors themselves, contributing to occasional clunkiness. The characters’ hair never quite appears natural, and their attempts to simulate swimming seem off, revealing that they are clearly not in water but rather creating the effect in a studio. Nevertheless, the design compensates for these shortcomings. The visually stunning mermaids’ fins appear realistically adapted, as if mermaids truly existed. The extension of scales onto their bodies creates an appearance akin to clothing, offering a unique and distinct look that sets them apart from the shell-bras of the 80s animated film.

A notable addition to the story is the introduction of mermaids possessing a unique and individual “Siren’s Song,” seamlessly integrating with the film’s narrative and aligning with the lore surrounding mermaids. Ariel’s (Halle Bailey) song serves a dual purpose, proving her voice to Ursula (Melissa McCarthy), the sea witch, while encompassing “Part of Your World” with similar melodies. This subtle addition adds significant context to why Ariel ultimately loses her voice. In addition to surrendering other aspects of her mermaid identity, Ariel must also relinquish her captivating Siren allure, including her voice. This added dimension grants her more autonomy, even in the absence of her voice. It is a much-desired inclusion that, coupled with other expanded character traits, grants Ariel greater depth, enhancing the captivation of her story.

Prince Eric (Jonah Hauer-King) also receives substantial additions that greatly enhance his character, transforming him from a somewhat bland yet visually appealing animated counterpart into a more well-rounded persona. While some of these traits effectively contribute to his emotional growth and his relationship with Ariel, others feel lacking and fail to provide meaningful progression for his character or the overall story. Instead, they seem clumsily inserted into the narrative to attempt a more three-dimensional portrayal. Unfortunately, this expansion comes at the cost of other characters such as Flounder and Scuttle, who are reduced to near accessories. Their inclusion becomes almost superfluous, reaching a point where their presence seems unnecessary from the outset.

Among the core characters, Halle Bailey as Ariel and Melissa McCarthy as Ursula truly stand out. Bailey flawlessly embodies the titular character, showcasing her remarkable voice and effortlessly capturing the naivete of the young mermaid who yearns to explore a world she does not perceive as the evil her father warns her about. McCarthy initially struggles to find her rhythm in the early scenes, but once she delves into “Poor Unfortunate Souls,” she completely embraces her performance, becoming the iconic sea witch in a truly captivating manner.

Undoubtedly, the songs are the standout moments of the film, elevating it into a truly enjoyable and entertaining experience. Alongside the heavily marketed “Part of Your World,” the film includes several songs from the original, along with a few additional songs for Ariel, Eric, and Scuttle. “Under the Sea” evokes vibrant visuals reminiscent of the animated musical numbers found in another Disney hit from 1994, “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King” from The Lion King. These songs pay homage to the grand musical style prevalent in Disney films of that era. Ariel’s new song seamlessly blends in with the rest of the soundtrack, fitting as if it were part of the original film. Eric’s song, while pleasing to the ears and visually appealing, feels slightly too modern in style, without necessarily adding a distinct positive or negative impact to the overall film. However, the same cannot be said for Scuttle’s song addition, a rap number clearly penned by Lin-Manuel Miranda, included primarily to showcase the rap skills of Awkwafina as Scuttle and Daveed Diggs as Sebastian. While both actors demonstrate impressive abilities, the song itself becomes grating and easily stands as the weakest aspect of the film, perhaps better off left on the editing floor.

Another minor point of discussion has been the decision to alter some lyrics in “Kiss the Girl.” Personally, I found the alteration to be so slight that I hardly noticed the difference. The change promotes a healthier environment by encouraging the two main characters to kiss, even though one of them cannot verbally express consent. However, it’s worth noting that the original version contains other problematic lyrics that remain unchanged in this adaptation, creating a sense of cognitive dissonance regarding the film’s intended message.

Despite the unevenness resulting from these additions and adaptations, watching The Little Mermaid was still an enjoyable experience. Halle Bailey undeniably shines in the leading role, and her future in the film industry is undoubtedly promising. The songs and story beats evoke a powerful sense of nostalgia, and although I may not actively seek to revisit the film in the near future, I can envision myself casually putting it on in the background for some lighthearted fun. The Little Mermaid successfully brings the beloved Disney classic to life, showcasing captivating visuals, enhanced character development, and memorable performances. While it may not be without its flaws, it stands as one of the finest live-action adaptations released to date, preserving the essence of the original while offering a fresh take on a timeless tale.

Grade: B

Director: Laura Terruso

Writers: Austen Earl and Sebastian Maniscalco

Stars: Robert DeNiro, Leslie Bibb, Kim Cattrall

Synopsis: When Sebastian tells his old-school Italian immigrant father Salvo that he is going to propose to his all-American girlfriend, Salvo insists on crashing a weekend with her tony parents.

Even if you are a serious cinephile who considers film an art form, you have to be a fan of genre movies. From the drenched digital effects of an action-adventure picture to the ominous murder-mystery thriller, movies are meant to entertain the masses. The same goes for the semi-autobiographical comedy that makes you laugh from your gut, despite its faults. That’s what you have with About My Father, coming from the mind of one of the hottest comedians in the world, Sebastian Maniscalco. This is a comedy in the vein of Meet the Parents and Wedding Crashers that plays into standard family dynamic tropes but happens to be very funny,

Directed by Laura Terruso, About My Father was written by Maniscalco and veteran CBS sitcom writer Austen Earl. The story follows Sebastian, a Hilton hotel manager who is dating Ellie, a delightful artist played by Leslie Bibb. Ellie has a down-to-earth personality and a sparkling smile that lights up the room. They are your classic “opposites attract” type of couple, with Ellie bringing a smile to Sebastian that he didn’t know he had. Quite literally, Ellie has to teach him how to practice and strengthen his facial muscles to smile more consistently.

The couple comes from extraordinarily different backgrounds. Ellie’s family can trace their roots back to the actual Mayflower. Her mother, Tigger (Kim Cattrall), and her father, Bill (David Rasche), are your typical blue-blood yuppies who lament that his father only gave him one hotel to start after he graduated from Harvard. Not to mention her brothers: Lucky (Anders Holms), a champagne socialist, and Doug (Brett Dier), a hippie trained in the art of Tibetan singing bowls, round out an eccentric group.

On the other hand, Sebastian comes from a blue-collar family led by his father, Salvo (Robert De Niro), a stylist who has been building women’s confidence and hair volume for decades. Knowing the value of a dollar, Salvo would always keep his son from ordering appetizers or desserts off the menu. When Christmas came, he would make homemade toys for Sebastian, such as a skateboard (and comments next year, he will make him “one of those Nintendos”). Sebastian needs his grandmother’s ring from Salvo, which he plans to give Ellie as he asks her to marry him. However, his father will only allow it once he meets Ellie’s family at their summer home on the Fourth of July.

The comedy is inspired by Maniscalco’s father, an immigrant from Sicily and an Army veteran who supported his family by being a hairstylist in a working-class neighborhood in Chicago. As a fan of Maniscalco for years, going way back to the days of the 2008 documentary comedy tour Vince Vaughn’s Wild West Comedy Show: 30 Days and 30 Nights – Hollywood to the Heartland, not much has changed since then. The finely groomed and cologne-doused Italian American comedian, with a penchant for class, style, and dry cleaning every piece of clothing down to his boxer shorts, has the same cartoonish delivery that makes for a welcomed juxtaposition on stage, as it does in this film.

About My Father excels when Maniscalco waxes poetically about his life and nostalgically looks back at his upbringing. You’ll also enjoy how the comedian openly disagrees with his father but recognizes the differences in lifestyles with these blue bloods that cannot be ignored. It’s no coincidence that those scenes, particularly when Sebastian and De Niro’s Salvo begin to make jokes at his future in-laws’ expense in private, work because they are straight from the theme of Maniscalco’s “Can you believe this?” stand-up act.

The cast has a nice chemistry together, including the humorous rapport between De Niro and Maniscalco. This is their second film together since The Irishman, where, if you remember, the latter received a bullet to the head from the legendary actor. De Niro has always been comedically gifted in culture clash comedies, but he never plays against type for a reason. While most characters outside the leads are cardboard cutouts from genre comedies, Cattrall stands out the most here as a fire-breathing conservative politician. While some scenes are typically outlandish (such as Sebastian losing his shorts on a Flyboard) and others may elicit eye-rolls (like Salvo using a family mascot for dinner), the scenes are still funny, albeit a bit too long and overplayed at times. The scenes where Sebastian is overtly rude to his father are purely manipulative to play into themes of the comedian coming to his own realization of what family means to him.

Still, you don’t go into About My Father expecting a reinvention of the genre with its lightning-quick running time. It’s a culture clash farce that works because of Maniscalco’s style of comedy and De Niro playing to his long-established comic strengths as a cynical curmudgeon set in his ways. This highly enjoyable movie has an infectious sense of humor and delivers a handful of belly laughs that will put a smile on your face, even as you come to terms with its imperfections.

Grade: B+