Director:Richard Benjamin Writer:David Giler Stars: Tom Hanks, Shelley Long, Alexander Godunov
Synopsis: A young couple struggles to repair a hopelessly dilapidated house.
Tom Hanks has a long, storied history of film excellence. Ask any five people their three favorite Hanks films, and they will probably all give you different answers. As a result of all of Hanks’ success, Richard Benjamin’s The Money Pit gets lost in the shuffle. But don’t sleep on it. All the madcap hilarity is still there 40 years after its premiere.
Let’s not misinterpret this film: this is no unsung masterpiece. That being said, this is the ultimate “turn your brain off and enjoy yourself” film from the ‘80s. Whether it’s The Secret to My Success, Police Academy, or Overboard, the ‘80s were filled with silly premises, fronted by stars, doing increasingly preposterous things. The Money Pit features pratfalls, easy sight gags, one-liners, and easy jokes. That doesn’t make it bad. In fact, it’s mostly a lot of fun.
Hanks stars as Walter Fielding Jr, a lawyer attempting to clean up the mess of debts left by his absconded father. Walter’s girlfriend, Anna (Shelly Long), is a concert violinist who is doggedly pursued by her ex-husband and concert maestro Max (Alexander Godunov). Forced to vacate their apartment, Walter and Anna find a steal of a mansion being sold by Estelle (Maureen Stapleton). Together, they buy the house and move in.
The moment the pair arrive, the house begins to fall apart, including shoddy electrical work, sewage-filled plumbing, and a complete collapse of the staircase. Any attempts to repair the house themselves fall flat, which causes the pair to turn to shady contractors, the Shirks. Faced with financial and mental ruin, Walter and Anna must overcome everything to stay in the house and stay together.
For a film from 1986, there are some fascinating themes around debt, cohabitation without marriage, and jealousy; but those themes are mostly just the table-setting for humor. Yes, all the money Walter and Anna use for the house is borrowed, but it’s just mined for a scene where Hanks can say the film’s title. It doesn’t have to be that deep when you have an extended sequence where Walter flies through the air, is mauled by various construction equipment and ends up being peed on by a decorative statue. There isn’t subtext here. It’s funny for the sake of funny.
The comedy isn’t all physical. A standout scene late in the film finds Walter and Anna trading barbs about intelligence and alcoholism. All the while, dozens of construction workers input their opinions or just stare at the bickering. That said, it’s mostly physical. Hanks reaches a tipping point with the house following a bathtub falling through the floor, leading to a prolonged fit of wheezing laughter. It’s silly and pointless, but movies don’t have to be so serious all the time. This film knows exactly what it has, and it keeps pushing those same madcap buttons.
At this point in his career, Hanks was still honing his on-screen persona. Smug intelligence was his forte and he leans heavily into that characterization here. He might not stretch himself dramatically (the film never calls for it), but he is more than willing to go the extra mile for a laugh. It’s a much more physical performance than you would expect. Hanks ends up falling from great heights multiple times, covered in plaster, burned, charred, and humiliated throughout the film. Long doesn’t have as much to do as Hanks, but she gets her fair share of house chaos to deal with. Her chemistry with Hanks is easy and believable, which is as much as you could ask for.
Hanks and Long aren’t the only familiar faces. Godunov was still two years away from his role as the villainous Karl in Die Hard, but he nearly walks away with the film. Max is a character of silly contradictions, and Godunov never shies away from any of the preposterous antics. It’s a shame he didn’t get more of a chance to do comedy, as he has excellent timing and delivery. Joe Mantegna, Philip Bosco, Frankie Faison, Josh Mostel, Yakov Smirnoff, Mike Starr, Wendell Pierce, Nestor Serrano, and Michael Jeter all show up along the way to give the film some extra color.It might not be revolutionary cinema, but The Money Pit is stupid fun all these years later. More than anything, it’s a testament to the longevity of Hanks and how far he has come.
Director:Kirill Sokolov Writers:Russell Ackerman, Cheryl Eatock, Carl Hampe Stars: Zazie Beetz, Patricia Arquette, Heather Graham
Synopsis: A woman takes a job as a housekeeper in a NYC high-rise, unaware of the building’s history of disappearances. She soon realizes the community is shrouded in mystery.
Having conversations with my peers about what we’re watching is a weekly thing for me. I love learning about movies and shows that I’ve never heard of and I instantly put them on a watchlist. The new action-comedy-thriller They Will Kill You is definitely one of those movies that most people will want to put on their watchlists just off of the cast alone. I only watched one trailer because I have a rule about not watching more than one trailer of a movie that I am really anticipating going to see. Zazie Beetz is an actress that is known for both her comedic and dramatic talents. Her only other action film was Deadpool 2 where she played Domino. I am glad that she pivoted back into action films after her long hiatus. She put on a good performance that was exhilarating and full of anger.
In the film, Beetz plays a woman named Asia Reeves. When we first meet her she’s on the run with her little sister Maria from their abusive father. After stopping to cool down and get supplies, they’re spotted by their father. In the middle of a standoff between Asia, Maria, and their father, Asia shoots her father in the chest to keep him away from them. Once the police officers get to the scene, her reaction is to run and never look back. Leaving Maria was a tough thing to do and she paid the price for her one mistake. Asia was sentenced to 10 years in prison for the attempted murder of father and Maria was sent back to live with him. Flash forward to the present, Asia gets out of prison and she only has two things on her to-do list, finding her sister and making sure that she’s safe.
Asia goes to a local high rise apartment building called Virgil that’s in need of a new housekeeper. She’s greeted by Lilith Woodhouse, the building superintendent played by Patricia Arquette. Lilith seems welcoming and accommodating towards Asia but she keeps her guard up for the whole time that she’s there. The lights go out and our protagonist is sound asleep in her bed until some unwanted guests raid her room with the intent to beat her and capture her. In this scene we see Zazie play the total opposite of a lot of characters that she’s played before. She’s a shotgun wielding, katana cutting, bare knuckle scrapper. This action sequence is well choreographed, bloody, and the editing, from Luke Doolan, is similar in style to Tarantino’s films. After she mows through the group of people, the look of exhaustion and determination are still on her face. Feeling accomplished, she talks to Lilith like half of her journey is complete when in fact it’s only just begun. Lilith gives Asia the run down on the building, its origins, and the state of its longtime residents. The residents that occupy the building can’t die because the building has a satanic presence over it. Everyone that comes into the building is sacrificed to the devil and in return they have to stay in the building and be immortal.
The supporting cast features Heather Graham and Tom Felton (two of the Virgil’s longtime tenants and Asia’s new adversaries), who give the audience some laughs and characters to root against while Asia’s sister Maria (Myha’la) isn’t given much to do once we are introduced to her. The action sequences are bonkers and exciting, but aside from Asia and Lilith the characters in this film are underwritten and they have sight gags that have been seen in older films. Heather Graham’s character has a bit that has to do with her head. I’ve seen it done better in Beetlejuice and Men in Black. Even given the time difference, those films also managed the special effects in a superior way. I wanted to be invested in Asia and Maria’s relationship but their dialogue is really wooden and the emotional beats or lack thereof didn’t do anything for me.
As the film coasts towards the third act, it slows down. They only focus on four characters and two of them don’t get proper development. Usually a short run time like an hour and thirty minutes is a sweet spot for me. But in this case, given the lack of character development and story building, it wasn’t enough for me to like the movie as much as I wanted to. Director Kirill Sokolov gives the audience satisfying action and fun performances from Beetz, Arquette, Graham, and Felton but after the credits rolled I knew that I wanted to try to watch Ready or Not 2. Hopefully the Blu-ray release will offer a decent amount of deleted scenes and a commentary track with Sokolov and some of the cast to fill in the gaps.
Many arguments could be made as to why Michael Mann’s movies focus solely on men: the occupations we are following, the stereotypical nature of men as criminals, or that Mann is a man (sorry about that) and does not want to write complex, female characters. However, it would be an error on my part to not point out the obvious lack of depth in Mann’s female characters and how more often than not they are used for exploitative, sexual purposes: underwritten with unnecessary sex scenes.
Tuesday Weld in Thief as Jessie holds her own and I attest that her scene of intimacy with James Caan was both brief and tasteful. Jessie’s backstory rivals Frank’s as far as complicated, crime filled histories are concerned and it makes me want to know more about the intricate details of her life with her now deceased first husband. Credit both Mann for the writing and Weld for the performance on that one. However, by the end of the movie Jessie (and their newly acquired David) are shed by Frank because he has put their lives at risk by standing up to Leo. Is it necessary that Frank gets Jessie and David to leave for their protection? Sure. Could more have been given to Jessie’s character to show how much she cares about the solidity of her new family? Absolutely.
If Jessie escaped Thief relatively unscathed, then by comparison Alberta Watson as Eva in The Keep did not. Poor Eva is both a victim of being underwritten and put in not just one, but two unnecessary sex scenes. As far as being underwritten goes, I need to acknowledge two sides to this idea. The fact that Paramount hacked the final cut of this movie to bits does not help Eva’s being underdeveloped. The same studio also kept an overly long scene between Woermann and Kaempffer without being trimmed, the attempted rape of Eva (woman as victim of sex), and her passionate sex scene with Glaeken (women as sex-starved vixen) and felt they were worthy of remaining. And while it is easy to dunk on poor executive choices, Mann did write the screenplay and shoot the film, and this trend continues down the line.
Manhunter gives us two for the price of one as far as underwritten female characters go: Kim Greist as Molly (Will’s wife) and Joan Allen as Reba (Francis’ short-lived love interest). While each of these actors are involved in a sex scene, the gratuitous nature of both is tuned down: no nudity, the sexual encounters do not occupy a lot of screen time, and the threat of violence in both are non-existent (Dolarhyde being incapable of harming Reba at that moment). From a narrative standpoint, both Molly and Reba do play pivotal roles, but only in relation to their male counterparts. For Molly, she is the physical embodiment of the life that Will wants to have – the phone call he makes to her late at night just to hear her voice says a lot about their relationship, but it is more impactful to Will than to Molly. For Reba, her entire arc is to be the object of sexual desire for Francis and to willingly make sexual advances towards him with the ultimate conclusion of almost being killed. All we know in relation to these characters is what they mean to the complicated, lone male figures that make up this movie.
The Last of the Mohicans is where the underwritten aspect takes a different shape as we explore Cora and Alice. Not to shun her, but Alice’s character is simply smaller: she is a side character and her overall arc is not what we are focusing on when we watch the film. And yet we still see the connection between her and Uncas and the pain that occurs internally for her when she sees him fall under Magua’s knife and pushed off the side of the cliff. While Alice and Uncas are secondary characters, we still feel for them and their quietly emotional resonance – proving that they are not underwritten. This brings us to Cora – who I believe is the most fully formed, well-rounded, and vocal female that Mann has brought to screen. Played in a career-best performance by Madeline Stowe, Cora is observant and not one to form to social norms – we see this when she rebukes Duncan’s offer of marriage. Cora is also not afraid to both speak her mind and admit when she was wrong, the former shown when she tells her father that she should be hanged as well and the latter when she starts to see Nathaniel in a new light and not as the savage man that she believes he is during their first interaction. This segues nicely into their romantic relationship and whether their sex scene is necessary. Simply put, the scene in which Cora and Nathaniel finally kiss and embrace each other romantically feels passionate, immediate, and absolutely not gratuitous. There is no nudity in the scene and yet the eroticism leaps off the screen. With the background of war ever-looming in our minds and death always waiting nearby, their love feels reactionary to time being against them, but never feels unnecessary. There will always be exceptions to the rules and The Last of the Mohicans proves that this ComMANNdment does not fit here.
At this point in Mann’s career, most of his films have one main female character of any note. Given the epic and sprawling nature of the storyline in Heat, we now get multiple underwritten women. While I could have included both Lauren and Lillian in this list, I feel like their parts are just small enough to leave alone. Instead, I will choose to focus on our three lead’s significant others: Justine (Diane Venora), Eady (Amy Brennerman), and Charlene (Ashley Judd). To begin, a brief preamble: I think all these performances are solid and may be Ashley Judd’s best work. Any criticisms here are only of the characters as written. These women are very surface level and stereotypical: Justine is sexually frustrated and has become so addicted to pills that she ignores every warning sign from her daughter that something is wrong; Eady is the quiet, somewhat nerdy sexually deprived woman who is so in need of a man that she immediately falls for the wrong one; and Charlene – the vixen with a complicated (and possibly criminal) past who is in too deep but just can’t shake the “love” she feels for Chris. These women, all three of them, get pushed around and only makes decisions in relation to the men in their lives: Justine ends up back in Vincent’s arms as he heroically brings Lauren to the hospital, Eady willingly decides to fly to New Zealand with a known criminal associated with robbery and murder, and Justine determines that she should alert Chris to the police who are waiting for him instead of letting him get caught and possibly ending a cycle of crime and violence for their son. Our men here get full backstories, just not the women.
Right off the bat I can announce with a wry smile that there is no unnecessary sex scene in The Insider…YAY! MANN DID IT! … However, he still commits the first part of this filmmaking (or should I say storytelling?) sin – underwritten women. This is the second consecutive film in which Diane Venora plays a wife and mother who is simply there to propel and set up future choices and character development for the co-male lead of a Michael Mann film. Liane Wigand, as written on the page and then subsequently shown on screen, is a hard woman to support. Our first interaction with her is early in the film when Jeffrey arrives home early from work after having been fired (an event that she is unaware of at the moment, to her credit). She seems to be relaxed while having a cold beverage outside on a nice day at their very lavish house. Later that day, Liane asks where her coffee mug is and Jeffrey says that she should check the car. Jeffrey claiming to need soy sauce at that precise moment also goes outside as Liane asks about the boxes in his car. He finally admits to having been fired and instead of an embrace of empathy Liane reacts with mild hostility asking about how they are going to pay for bills and health medications (in a “save the cat” moment earlier, we see Jeffrey give his daughter medicine for her asthma in a calm and educational manner).
After he assures her that money will continue coming in and that health benefits won’t be terminated, he leaves in the car with Liane left to wallow in her selfishness. An exasperated and half-hearted “Jeffrey!” gets said, but at this point we know what Mann is trying to do: planting the seed of the wife who won’t support her husband when things get tough. The loop of this idea gets closed right before Jeffrey goes down to Mississippi to give his deposition. Bergman has arranged for security to stay with the Wigands after threats had been made – a decision that Liane does not approve of. That night, while Jeffrey is working downstairs, she goes to see him. She sits on the stairs and says, “I don’t think I can do this. I want to stand by my husband…but I don’t think I can do this anymore. I’m so sorry.” Jeffrey asks if they can talk about this after he gets back and she says yes, but the look on her face tells us what we already know but that Jeffrey can’t see yet: she is going to leave him. I want to make it clear that I am not saying Diane Venora is doing a bad acting job in the film, but this character is only here to put new and difficult obstacles in her husband’s path (and to the point of talking about Crowe’s performance – it works! Crowe gives a detailed and precise performance that brought him his first Academy Award nomination).
During the film Ali, our titular character makes comments about being a womanizer and one who cannot keep his eyes (or hands) off of women. Given this personality trait in combination with a woman’s place within the Islamic community, it doesn’t take much to show women as subservient and objects of lust only. Over the course of the film, we see Ali marry two different women and meet one who will eventually be his third wife (not to mention the fourth he married in real life that we don’t see). If we focus on Sonji (Jada Pinkett Smith) and Belinda (Nona Baye), each of them are essentially replaced for different reasons. Sonji converts to Islam even though her lifestyle and personality clashes with core Islamic principles and her “assets” that drew in Ali initially also become the fuel that burns out their marriage. With Belinda, we meet a woman who believes in Islam and is an active partner of Ali: she genuinely cares for him. However, when she starts more freely speaking her mind and calling out Ali’s infidelities, she becomes another woman to be shunned by the heavyweight champ. I understand that the real Muhammad Ali married multiple times and that the film should not change history, but as presented women seem to be nothing more that sexual beings meant to be quiet and subservient to men – furthering the stigma that Mann has a hard time telling stories with strong female characters.
Jada Pinkett-Smith returns to this ComMANNdment for Collateral, but this time only as the underwritten woman. The introduction to her character is brilliantly setup in a Hitchcockian style: bring her in early, let her have an impact on our lead, make it seem like she will only be another idea in Max’s life that he won’t follow up on, and then have her come back full circle when we were least expecting it. GREAT! Her initial scene with Max is pleasantly aggressive and they both let their guards down and enjoy a very nice moment with each other. Here’s the rub: when she returns to the film it is for no other purpose than to become the damsel in distress for Max to save. In another movie with another character, it might not be so glaring, but in Collateral, it feels noticeable. On the phone, we hear her as a powerful woman in control of herself and very determined. Yes, she admits to getting nervous the night before her first day in court, but goes on to explain that her feeling of trepidation goes away. She is capable and the movie does her a disservice by making her seem helpless when Vincent arrives at her law office. Can Max be there to help? Of course – he doesn’t want her to die and knows what Vincent is capable of. Could she be more helpful and less “woe is me” during the movie’s finale? Absolutely. Mann was so close to not committing this cardinal sin, but the third act of this film falls into standard thriller movie tropes and the woman needing to be rescued just couldn’t be ignored.
Women are pawns or sex objects (or both) in Miami Vice…I wish I could make a strong case against this, but I can’t. A great example of a strong, female character who isn’t (at least overly) sexualized is Gina, played by Elizabeth Rodriguez: she holds her own in the shootouts and feels like her own person. However, I need to focus on Gong Li, Naomie Harris, and the bevvy of women in the opening scene – let’s start in that Miami club. If you watch the theatrical version of the film, you are introduced to women dancing in the club. This sets up the expectations that this is a “man’s world” (or “Mann’s world” if you like bad humor) where women will be viewed as objects to be pursued sexually. With Naomie Harris as Trudy, it is clear what Mann is trying to do: create a relationship between her and Rico that is compassionate while also giving her agency as a solo figure within this police unit. The problem here is that Harris is both used sexually (her shower/sex scene with Foxx) and as a pawn after she is kidnapped by the Aryan Brotherhood as leverage for the drug delivery. Additionally, Gong Li as Isabella is set up in the same way. She is a smart, savvy businesswoman who is out for herself, and yet becomes immediately enamored with Sonny, has sex with him, and then becomes the damsel in the final shootout. Miami Vice marks Mann’s ninth theatrically released film, but it will still take a few more swings before we get to a woman who truly holds her own in a film.
Mann may have went back around eight decades or so, but the connective tissue from Miami Vice to Public Enemies is strong: both have two, strong, male leads; both are about opposing sides of the law; and both feature women as purely supporting parts that are merely there to be eye candy or as pawns and/or obstacles for our leads to use. And while the female cast of Miami Vice is solid (and I will say nothing disparaging about them here), Public Enemies has some of the most talented actresses being reduced to damsels in distress or slid into one scene (in the case of Carey Mulligan – what a career she would go on to create after this film). Marion Cotillard is both underwritten and part of an unnecessary sex scene. You could say that the first time Billie and Dillinger have sex it is at least shot tastefully: no nudity, darkly lit, mostly a romantic and passionate vibe. However, this is not the scene that feels unnecessary: it is the Phoenix hotel bathtub scene. At this point, Billie has accepted that Dillinger is a criminal whose life could be taken at any moment. Instead of having a rational conversation about how this relationship is going to work, she is nude in a bathtub and waiting for him to have his way with her. I wish I could say it gets better for Billie, but it does not. She becomes a pawn of the FBI and is tortured to the point of urinating all over herself. I understand that this is showing the depravity and awful interrogative techniques used by the FBI, but I cannot help but see this character as a tool to get Dillinger to have more exciting scenes. Billie is left cold, alone, and offscreen.
If you want to see how two different levels of female actresses can be underwritten in different ways, look no further than Tang Wei as Lien and Viola Davis as Carol in Blackhat. We’ll start with Lien as this character is also included in some unnecessary sex scenes. The film tells us early on that Lien is highly educated, successful in the world of computers, and does not need a man to tell her what to do. Given all of that information, why is it that she almost instantly becomes a cyber-moron in relation to Hathaway? Why does she become so infatuated to the point of becoming incapable of basic tasks? Later, after three members of their team have been killed, Lien becomes a more pivotal figure, but I would also point out that she continuously responds to Hathaway’s beck and call – as if she were his servant. And on top of all that, after almost no real chemistry between these two, Lien and Hathaway begin a sexual relationship – why? To throw one more complication into the mix and have Hathaway and Dawai start to question each other? To really earn that R rating? To reinforce just how in love these two are?
Okay…enough about Lien – let’s move on to Carol. Viola Davis is an astounding actress with a screen presence that is nothing short of magnetic. When she convinces/coerces “Gary the stock guy” to provide her team with information, you are utterly enthralled with her. In fact, the most grounded and relatable part of the film is her character because Carol has to walk this fine line between upholding the laws of justice in relation to Hathaway while also trying to catch the bad guys. Mann almost got through the movie without screwing this character up…and then he pulled out 9/11. From a chauvinistic standpoint, I understand why Mann puts in unnecessary sex scenes: nudity can help get butts in seats. But why overly complicate a character whose motivations were perfectly fine the way they were? And as if to fully make the point while visually talking down to us, the last image Carol sees before she dies is a tall building – not unlike the World Trade Center towers that fell. With all due respect to a director that I highly admire, Mr. Mann very much bungled this character.
The two-sided nature of this ComMANNdment gives me plenty to talk about. We must start with this: not only does Ferrari give us two female characters with fleshed out backstories and true points-of-view, but Penelope Cruz as Laura steals the film and is easily the best performance in the movie. Her motivations are believable, her jealousy is understood, and her actions are loud, strong, and very cinematic. And even though I am low on Woodley’s performance, Lina is understandable and sympathetic: her son is going to be christened soon and she wants to know what his last name will be. These two form opposite ends of Enzo’s love spectrum – and I do mean love as HE believes that he loves both. Twelve feature films in and Mann has got female characters with strong objectives…but he couldn’t resist himself with the unnecessary sex scenes. There are two worth mentioning – we’ll start with one that is unnecessary because of the character involved. After meeting the whole Ferrari team at a lunch, we later see De Portago in his hotel room with his girlfriend, Linda (too many female “L” names in this movie), and, in a moment of celebration, he runs in naked and they start to have sex. What we’re supposed to take away from this is that they are in love and it will be even more devastating when he dies and she is there waiting for him at the finish line. The other sex scene involves Laura and Enzo and it occurs when he asks her to sign over her share of the company to him. Their passion takes them over and they have sex right there on the kitchen table…even though their loathing for one another (or least her to him) is at its highest. The scene feels disingenuous, especially when you clock the title card at the end saying that Lina and Enzo got together as soon as Laura died. Mann got himself two great female characters in this movie – it’s just a shame that he had to force in unnecessary sex scenes.
On this episode, JD and Brendan discuss the new film from the German filmmaker Christian Petzold Miroirs No. 3! We are huge fans of Petzold, and that alone intrigued us, but he’s back once again with his latest muse Paula Beer. As you could probably guess, Miroirs No. 3 has all of the usual Petzold trademarks and great performances, so we had a lot of fun with this one.
Review:Miroirs No. 3
Director: Christian Petzold Writers: Christian Petzold Stars: Paula Beer, Barbara Auer, Matthias Brandt, Enno Trebs
Director: Zack Synder Writers: Chris Terrio, David S. Goyer, Bob Kane Stars: Ben Affleck, Henry Cavill, Amy Adams
Synopsis: Batman is manipulated by Lex Luthor to fear Superman. Superman´s existence is meanwhile dividing the world and he is framed for murder during an international crisis. The heroes clash and force the neutral Wonder Woman to reemerge.
With James Gunn’s Superman releasing last year to general critical and audience acclaim, shortly thereafter lighting the fuse for what is quickly becoming the “new big thing” cinematic universe, the equivalent that was attempted before it has been promptly buried.
The so-called “DCEU,” as it were, has become a thing of the past; dead with it are the dark, brooding, and most often colorless tendencies that defined the franchise. Chief among those examples would be Zack Snyder’s infamous Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice. A movie that not only failed to capitalize on the insane excitement that preceded it, but that has since garnered a reputation as an odd misfire that is ardently loved by a waning corner of superhero cinema fandom.
Now 10 years old, looking back at BvS does do the film a little justice (no pun intended), although what didn’t work in 2016 absolutely doesn’t work now. Snyder’s gargantuan comic book blockbuster got a crucial element wrong, among many, that hampered it from the beginning. That is, its interpretation and use of Superman.
Much can, and has been said about the movie’s vision of Batman as a bloodthirsty, gun-wielding maniac. And while that has been exaggerated by many, it’s true that the Dark Knight kills and kills aplenty. It’s a weird, off-color version of the character that tries to validate this needless violence through his arc. Beyond that misconstruction, though, Superman is almost given the opposite treatment. He’s barely in the movie at all, and undergoes essentially no journey.
For a movie about two heroes butting heads, their conflict orchestrated by the nefarious (and unfortunately teeming with hair) Lex Luthor, the latter half, in name, of the duo is a quiet inclusion. Henry Cavill looks on in stoic silence, uncaring and apparently soulless. It isn’t Cavill’s fault that both Clark and Kal-El are written entirely dependent on their connections to other characters.
Superman is seen on the news in glimpses of heroism, and does get his chance to display that in this film in a climactic, late-movie measure. But between the ticket-selling action sequences, Superman feels like a middle-man. He helps Bruce/Batman mend his severed connection to humanity; he briefly talks to his father in a vision (dream? who knows, really) on a mountaintop, in a sequence that essentially goes nowhere. Otherwise, he spends the majority of the movie under political and governmental fire, and then dies.
He makes Batman more compelling in the end, sure, but when Wonder Woman and her grating sonic accompaniment hit the scene, it’s hard to count much of what Superman accomplishes beyond the basic beats of any Superman story that are only to be redeemed in Justice League. That’s an entirely different and much more compelling story, though. Especially given the aforementioned presence of a bright, world-loving and leading Superman, this adaptation almost seems like a different character. Superman, and the entire movie, truly, is unfeeling. It’s a Batman story at the core; but given the issues with Batman’s own characterization, sprinkled with scarce hints of compelling philosophy between senseless killing and poor one-liners, what are you left with?
You’re left with a movie that looks great, swings big and, ultimately, says very little. For fans looking for a pure aesthetic feast that at least attempts to bring these characters into a grittier, more realistic light, you’ll find that here. It’s fair to say that Snyder fans can argue for this film on its merits as a filmmaker, because it is unashamedly committed to the director’s diehard look and feel.
But for anyone who has read ‘All-Star Superman,’ or seen and loved Mask of the Phantasm, this still misses the mark an entire decade later. If you’re determined to tune in, at least do yourself the favor and watch the Ultimate Edition. Get all that you can out of the big budget on display here, because it’s about the only thing worth watching BvS for.
Synopsis:It follows the life of Pagnol, a playwright, novelist, and filmmaker who grew up in a middle-class household in Marseille and became one of the world’s most inventive and prolific artists from the 1930s to the 1950s.
If you’ve never heard of the incredible work of Marcel Pagnol before, chances are you won’t learn much by the time the credits roll in front of Sylvain Chomet’s A Magnificent Life (Marcel et Monsieur Pagnol). After a world premiere at Cannes and a successful release in France last year, Sony Pictures Classics invites audiences to see Chomet’s latest animated film in a baffling English-language dub. If this is not the biggest insult you can give to one of the most staunch defenders of the French language, in theater, literature, and film, what is?
Of course, the dub isn’t limited to dialogue within the film’s diegesis; it also transforms the footage we see of Pagnol’s features, most notably starring his collaborators Fernandel and Raimu. America has ingrained a culture of moviegoers who are afraid to watch a movie in a language other than their native tongue, or even to read subtitles, to preserve the nuances of the movie’s original language. Bong Joon Ho’s quote is evergreen, but he’s right. Most are afraid to overcome the one-inch-tall barrier of subtitles, which means the French language is not even made available to North American audiences. It’s just as bad as when NEON, a staunch champion of international cinema, decided to release Ugo Bienvenu’s Arco in cinemas across North America without the option of its original French-language version, thus perpetuating the notion that international films aren’t important, when they are far more aesthetically and thematically resonant than a decade’s worth of Hollywood pictures.
Watching clips of Pagnol’s Le Schpountz, Harvest, and The Baker’s Wife, dubbed in English, gave me negative full-body chills I never want to experience ever again. Chomet’s work is too important for American studios to think audiences won’t be interested in hearing Laurent Lafitte’s vocal performance as the legendary Marcel Pagnol. However, even if you ignore the poor dubbing work at the heart of the picture, what’s on screen is of very little interest. It lacks any form of insight that most biographical movies will tend to answer: who is the figure beyond the façade, and what did he truly accomplish?
Chomet spends time making the audience realize the extent of Pagnol’s work and the breadth of the modes of expression he wrote in, but fails to draw a portrait of who the individual truly is. There are scenes in which he tries to give texture to Pagnol the man by having him communicate with his younger self, essentially recounting his life story to himself. After all, when we first meet him, he is about to write an article that will see him lay it all out, before his existence reaches its point of finitude. The framing device doesn’t last long, nor does it have any tangible effect on the viewer. It’s there to say that Pagnol will flesh out the story on his own terms and take us on the tumultuous life he lived. Unfortunately, Chomet essentially cops out from the moment this narrative structure is introduced, heading into more linear, conventional territory.
It’s a real shame that Chomet’s script is so paper-thin, because Pagnol’s body of work still stands the test of time and almost didn’t. The bulk of his work was released during World War II, and the Nazis made significant moves to take over his assets and seize the reels of the films he made. Pagnol deliberately showed worn-out copies to dissuade them from selling, and he pretended his moviemaking business was failing, which prompted him to sell to Gaumont. His actions prevented any of his reels from falling into the wrong hands, and they are the only reason his films can still be seen to this day. Yet, this section is treated with little to no significance, just as his successes and failures in the theatrical productions he conceived. There’s so much to talk about, but very little to actively explore in 90 minutes of what is essentially a drawn-out Wikipedia summary, but without the bullet points that make audiences aware of his impact.
Thank the good lord Chomet is such a skillful animator and can still craft sequences of real expressivity, even though we are many years far removed from his masterpiece, 2003’s The Triplets of Belleville. Still, his style is unmistakable, and he makes every frame of A Magnificent Life feel vivid and urgent. The hand-drawn animation is frequently jaw-dropping, and the multiple stylistic permutations it takes on throughout its runtime are consistently surprising. If only the screenplay had responded so well to the images, or deepened its central character study at the heart of the picture, because what ultimately remains is a painfully hollow and vapid animated affair that will sadly be released by committing the worst possible offense against what Marcel Pagnol stands for. Maybe all of us should wait for the VOD release, when the French version will be available, and Chomet’s words won’t sound this terrible…
On this episode, JD and Megan are joined by Ben Miller to discuss Phil Lord and Chris Miller’s latest film Project Hail Mary! The film has opened to incredible reviews and a stellar box office, and while we mostly indulge with high praise, we do offer a few thoughtful questions about the film. Ryan Gosling is incredible and how can you not love Rocky?
Review:Project Hail Mary
Director: Phil Lord, Christopher Miller Writers: Drew Goddard Stars: Ryan Gosling, Sandra Hüller, James Ortiz
Synopsis: A lonely gravedigger who stinks of corpses finally meets her dream man, but their whirlwind affair is cut short when he tragically drowns at sea. Grief-stricken, she goes to morbid lengths to resurrect him through madcap experiments.
To be completely honest, when I saw the trailer for Dead Lover, I stopped about 10 seconds in. I was sold instantly. What I saw in those short seconds was a taste of what to expect: what looked like a banshee of a grave digger creating an elixir. A vividly colored, singular experience born from the mind of writer and director Grace Glowicki. Death, reanimation, and lustful passion make Dead Lover a film Mary Shelley would be proud of.
Not only would Mary Shelley be proud of the film’s subject matter and execution, but a quote of hers flashes on screen as Dead Lover opens. It’s a mysterious introduction into the film that ushers in the film’s lead character, played by Glowicki herself, who is simply referred to as the Gravedigger. Her reputation revolves around her occupation, and it takes over her entire life. Those around her avoid her due to the stench that radiates off of her. Her skin is pale, ghost-white, with hair to match, and her clothes are riddled with dirt and death. But inside is a woman who longs for romance.
Daily tasks are exactly what you’d imagine: digging graves for funerals, while the only people who come near her are cold corpses. During one of these funerals, she becomes an unlikely hero for a grieving brother (Ben Petrie). His life was nearly the next on the chopping block for a freshly dug grave, and the pair fall in love. Despite her putrid smell, he is head over heels, speaking about how her beauty is unlike anything in the world. Their love is deep, and both make proclamations to one another to always be bound together. But it doesn’t last long, and the gravedigger is back to being lonely, now grieving.
Dead Lover takes inspiration from Shelley’s work most when the newly single (again) gravedigger recounts a recipe for a potion that has the chance of bringing her lost loved one back. Using the only proof he existed—his severed finger—she successfully brings him back. But much like Frankenstein, it doesn’t completely go the way it’s intended. Glowicki shows a real love for the mother of horror and showcases the gravedigger’s intelligence throughout the trial and error of reanimating life. It’s an equally hilarious and explorative experience to watch.
Glowicki focuses a lot on the transformation from the severed finger to the partner her character ends up with. There’s a conflict with a widower (Lowen Morrow) who makes a connection with the gravedigger that devastates the newly single man. Both of their former lovers are related to one another: the grieving brother and his dead sister (Leah Doz). It’s a story threaded craftfully, but Glowicki’s script becomes repetitive at a certain point. It’s still eccentrically entertaining, but the creatures created by the gravedigger could use some spotlight as well.
Dead Lover is the epitome of small-scale cinema; its stark black background allows the film to feel never-ending. The set is minimal: a graveyard with only a handful of graves, a bedroom with only a bed and a window. It perfectly captures the loneliness the gravedigger goes through, and the dusty, dingy atmosphere helps audiences make their own assumptions about how smelly she truly is. Visually, the film has a stage-play feel, with items like shovels and brooms having a prop-esque look to them. It adds to the hilarity of it all.
Much like the minimal scale of the film’s production, there are only a few actors involved in bringing this story to life—four, to be exact—who all play multiple characters in Dead Lover. From lesbian nuns sneaking out to have sinful fun to a group of gossiping old women who talk about the rumors of their local gravedigger, their work is a true labor of love, with Glowicki wearing more hats than I can count.
Love is the driving factor for the gravedigger at the beginning of the film, and while love still drives her, she’s overcome with lust for her partner. There’s a sensuality that he awakens in her that she doesn’t want to lose, even when her lover doesn’t resemble who he once was. Glowicki shows the gravedigger as someone who makes rash choices; she isn’t concerned about what her partner wants, reanimating him without a second thought. It’s an idea that isn’t touched on, which is a shame because it feels worth exploring.
A film like this is best watched without trying to figure out where it’s going before it happens. It doesn’t follow Shelley’s work beyond reanimation and parts of the process, so when it swerves from the obvious directions, Dead Lover keeps the audience on their toes. There’s a real sense of love for the medium, from the actors to the set decorator, all knowing exactly what is needed to make a film like this come to life in the way they intend. Even when some choices don’t work, it’s one of the best creature features of the year.Glowicki and her small cast and crew make Dead Lover a horror comedy that is rare to come across. Their hard work is seen in each scene, and their dedication to the craft proves that budgets and scale don’t make films worth watching; it’s the passion behind them.
This week on the InSession Film Podcast, inspired by Kevin Jacobsen’s captivating series of prompts where he asked who you would vote for if the last five Oscar winners (in any particular category) were up against each other, we thought we would do the same but for our InSession Film Awards winners! So it turned into a fun retrospective on our awards winners over the last six years, many of which we still love, but as you may expect, some of our winners may have changed if we had a re-do.
– JD’s Approach To Horror / Project Hail Mary Box Office (1:14) To begin this week’s episode, JD reveals his secret to horror films and how he’s able to engage with them. Purists will hate it, but it makes that genre fun for him. We then shift our attention to the box office for Project Hail Mary, which launched out of the gate with massive numbers. We always want to celebrate the successes of non-IP like this, especially when it’s made with care and artists creating immersive art that pops on the big screen.
– Dune: Part 3 and Spider-Man: Brand New Day Trailers (23:01) For the next segment, we talk about the new trailers for Dune: Part 3 and Spider-Man: Brand New Day. It’s interesting because both JD and Brendan both loved the Dune Part: 3 trailer, but for very different reasons. Either way, it looks like Denis Villeneuve is bringing the goods once again. As for Spider-Man, there is lots of potential, but visually it looks more of the same with the MCU. So our response is maybe a bit tepid overall.
– InSession Film Awards (52:15) As noted above, we thought Kevin’s prompts regarding the Oscars was quite compelling. “Let’s take a look back at the last five winners and pool them together” is always fun in an all-star kind of way. But with InSession Film Awards, it’s even more electrifying because these are the winners *we* chose. Our nominees and winners often look very different from The Academy’s as they are personal to us. So grouping the last five (or in our case, six, as we also included 2020) winners made this exercise immensely challenging at time. But boy was it a ton of fun! That said, what did you think of our winners?
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!
Synopsis: After prison, a woman attempts to reconnect with her young daughter but faces resistance from everyone except a bar owner with ties to her child. As they grow closer, she must confront her past mistakes to build a hopeful future.
A Colleen Hoover adaptation was…watchable?!? I know, I’m as shocked as you are. After the horrendous It Ends with Us, this critic skipped Regretting You to preserve his own mental state, but was – for some reason – compelled to head out to the cinema (a bit later than most, blame the unstable weather in my neck of the woods) to see what the fuss was all about on Reminders of Him. Now, I was ready to eviscerate the movie to no end, considering that Hoover’s writing proves she has never had any meaningful interaction with a human ever. However, I came out of it feeling the opposite. Sure, its flaws stick out like a sore thumb, but it’s also surprisingly not terrible?
It essentially boils down to director Vanessa Caswill keeping Hoover’s emotionally powerful story at the heart of the book as human and textured as possible when transposing it to the screen. She doesn’t make the film’s more serious sections feel exploitative, and she also (smartly) avoids the egregious product placements (including the lead star’s personal brand) found throughout It Ends with Us that turned a horrifying portrait of abuse into a glorified commercial for Pinterest mood boards.
Whenever Reminders of Him gets darker and taps into Kenna’s (Maika Monroe) mistakes, the film depicts these sequences with the necessary gravity required, letting you experience what the protagonist feels and the internal battle she faces as a mother longing for redemption. The central event that leads to her imprisonment doesn’t feel manipulative, nor does it blame anyone in particular. It shows the scene as it is, allowing the audience to sit with the character’s actions as a moment of real vulnerability. That said, did it need that many psychotic needle-drops of Coldplay’s “Yellow” playing throughout? And not just the original version – so many variations! That’s debatable (the answer is no).
Regardless, the overall effort is much better than it has any right to be, and that’s mostly thanks to Caswill’s humanist lens. She creates an alluring and patient visual style that’s in near-perfect response to Kenna’s internal and external struggles. Caswill also doesn’t try to depict harrowing situations with an overtly “glossy” or “candy-colored” tinge, although some of the drama and romance feel a bit forced, but that’s not entirely her fault. The screenplay, written by Hoover and Lauren Levine, is sometimes sincere, and occasionally chintzy and downright bizarre.
One scene, you’ll have Maika Monroe give a profoundly soulful turn as an ex-convict looking to do right by her estranged daughter, Diem (Zoe Kosovic) and make amends to her boyfriend’s parents, Patrick (Bradley Whitford), and Grace (Lauren Graham), after the love of her life perished in a car crash when she was driving the vehicle. In another scene, you’ll hear the most baffling dialogue ever written. You’ll quickly be aware which ones were written by Hoover and which ones were polished by the more competent writer. However, there isn’t a scene that isn’t handled with some form of respect, even when it gets shamelessly predictable and downright treacly as Kenna forms a relationship with Ledger (Tyriq Withers, portraying a football player in another movie with Him in the title – if I had two nickels, etc, etc.).
The former NFL star was once best friends with Kenna’s boyfriend, Scotty (Rudy Pankow), but wasn’t there for him when Scotty needed Ledger the most. He now tries to make it up to him by taking care of Diem, who is under the supervision of both Grace and Patrick. Upon meeting Kenna, he also tries to hear her side of the story rather than demonizing her as Scotty’s parents do. Upon her arrival home after her release from prison, both Grace and Patrick sent her a restraining order, forbidding Kenna from ever seeing her child. The succession of dramatic events also piles on in a less natural flow, but Caswill’s patient direction makes these scenes feel somewhat digestible and less egregious than they might have appeared on the page.
Even if the romance at the center of the story doesn’t feel natural, both Withers and Monroe are excellent and remain constantly engaged in the material, surprisingly also when they have to deliver Hoover’s nonsensical lines. So far this year, Monroe is two-for-two in giving career-best performances in aggressively mediocre movies, after (with Troy Kotsur and Helen Hunt) essentially elevating Maxime Giroux’s English-language debut, In Cold Light, to watchable horizons (despite a fairly assured style that ranged from Tony Scott to Michael Bay rip-offs).
Her portrayal of Kenna is incredibly affecting, especially when the film reaches its inevitable tear-jerking conclusion. Revealing more would mean spoiling details that are best left discovered by yourself, but there is one thing you need to know: the mother/daughter storyline works. The camera lingers on both characters in surprisingly moving ways, and their eventual reunion will (even if you’re anti-Hoover) make you feel something. It’s impossible not to, especially when the dramatic tension between the protagonist and Scotty’s parents is at its highest. There are no forced emotions. No manipulation. No exploitation of tragedy. Just pure cinema at its most deeply sentimental.
I could’ve come here and talked about why Colleen Hoover is a menace and continues to misunderstand fundamental human relationships in her writing. All of this is still true. But the filmed transposition of Reminders of Him isn’t bad. Simple as that. As a critic, going into each film with an open mind, regardless of your preconceptions on a specific individual, is always the way to go. I thought I was going to hate Reminders of Him. I didn’t. What does this say about me? I’ll let you be the judge of that.
Director: Meredith Alloway Writer: Lily Houghton, Meredith Alloway Stars: Lili Reinhart, Lola Tung, Alexandra Shipp, Victoria Pedretti
Synopsis:At a mall store, Apple leads a secret witch cult with coworkers Cherry and Fig. New hire Pumpkin questions their sisterhood, forcing them to confront inner darkness or meet violent ends.
Film fans make a massive deal about a director’s first movie. In some ways, we seem to expect a slow start. And if we don’t get that, we expect a sophomore slump. This is not a wholly negative view. Instead, it is indicative of just how hard filmmaking can be. It is hard enough just to get a film made, and doubly hard to make one that is even slightly above average. And let’s not get truly started on how much harder it is for female filmmakers. If they do not have an immediate success, getting funding becomes a near impossibility. So, when a filmmaker arrives on the scene with a genuine style and takes some actual risks, it is worth taking notice, even if there is no guarantee of a repeat. But now that I have seen Meredith Alloway’s first feature film, Forbidden Fruits, hope spring eternal.
Alexandra Shipp, Lili Reinhart, and Victoria Pedretti in Meredith Alloway’s FORBIDDEN FRUITS. Courtesy of Sabrina Lantos. An Independent Film Company and Shudder Release
Forbidden Fruits, dripping with style and charged with energy, takes place almost entirely in a mall and, between laughs and scares, manages to make more than a few statements about female friendship and even the effects of traumatic parenting decisions. The plot follows three women who work at a store, Free Eden, and who, oddly, are named after fruits. Apple (Lili Reinhart), Cherry (Victoria Pedretti), and Fig (Alexandra Shipp) are the queens of the mall, a point driven home humorously by whispered disembodied comments as they stride through the food court. Here, after discussing their co-worker who has disappeared under mysterious circumstances, they are introduced to another possible member of their squad, happily with another fruit moniker, Pumpkin (Lola Tung).
It would be easy to view Forbidden Fruits as shallow or silly. This would be a tremendous error on your part. This is a film that works on more than one level. Yes, it is devilish fun. But beneath its surface is both darkness and depth. As the plot involving a possible coven (or cult?) is slowly revealed, the script, from Alloway and Lily Houghton (based on her stage play), finds a way to become both engaging and mysterious. By the time the film wraps up, Alloway has so many balls in the air, that it is a wonder that very few are dropped. While the script may be imperfect (the post-credits scene is particularly galling), in the hands of Alloway as the director and a wildly game, almost all-female cast, there is literally never a dull moment.
Alexandra Shipp, Victoria Pedretti, Lili Reinhart, and Lola Tung in Meredith Alloway’s FORBIDDEN FRUITS. Courtesy of Sabrina Lantos. An Independent Film Company and Shudder Release
Reinhart and Tung, in particular shine the brightest, but singling them out feels mildly unfair. Given the structure of the plot, these two have the most opportunities to stand out. But Reinhart, as the leader of the pack, relishes every opportunity to absolutely devour the whip-smart dialogue. Her knowing, almost predatory facial expressions would make any film watchable, so here it has an additive effect that makes the viewer lean in all the closer. However, Shipp and Pedretti are also equal parts funny, terrifying, and shockingly genuine. Their arcs, by the end, actually rival those of the co-leads. It is a real gift when a film this heightened in style and dialogue is still able to hit home emotionally. You can certainly watch this film as a comedy-horror hybrid and never think about it on a deep level, but I believe that, on rewatch, this will make an even deeper mark.
What this film does best is show the allure of friendship and how it can easily go too far. Many times, it has been opined that the breakup of a true friendship is much worse than a romantic one. For this reason, the introduction of a dedicated sexual relationship from one member of a friend group can feel like a betrayal. Watching these women navigate the dangerous waters of life, judgment, romance, and growing apart is truly a wonder and is aided by the alternately sharp and deeply edgy cinematography from Karim Hussain.
These emotional journeys are, of course, surrounded by violence (both physical and emotional) and the tangled web at least one of the main characters is weaving. As everything comes to light, much like life, there are no purely virtuous humans or distinctly evil ones. Despite the fact that some characterization may seem slight at first glance, each and every one of these women is well thought-out, has motivations and desires, and an internal logic that is rare in this particular subgenre.
Lili Reinhart, Victoria Pedretti and Alexandra Shipp in Meredith Alloway’s FORBIDDEN FRUITS. Courtesy of Sabrina Lantos. An Independent Film Company and Shudder Release
More than one movie already in 2026 has been propped up as a possible future “cult classic,” but this is the example I would put my money on. However, I still hope that it finds an audience immediately. Forbidden Fruits is proof that Meredith Alloway should be given great leeway and even greater budgets moving forward. She, along with her team, has an incredible eye and a wicked sense of humor that the cinema world could use right now. The film never pulls punches (or fingernails) and is unafraid to poke fun at itself, all while saying something worthwhile about the cultures that it portrays. Forbidden Fruits is more than worth your time on a lot of levels, but especially on one of pure devilish enjoyment.
Directors: Matt Bettinelli-Olpin, Tyler Gillett Writers: Guy Busick, R. Christopher Murphy, Matt Bettinelli-Olpin Stars: Samara Weaving, Kathryn Newton, Elijah Wood
Synopsis: After surviving one deadly game, Grace and her sister Faith must now outrun four rival families competing for a powerful throne – winner takes all.
It is baffling why Ready or Not 2: Here I Come took almost seven years to find its way into theaters. The original was an oh-so-bloody, completely refreshing, often hilarious, and brutal instant horror classic. It is one of the most ruthlessly entertaining thrillers in years and sparked a horror-comedy revival over the past decade. The movie slaps, slays, or downright f*cks, or whatever the kids are saying nowadays, in a clear nod to a younger demographic.
While watching Ready or Not 2: Here I Come, the blood-splatter fest is still there, the demonic supporting characters, empowered by seemingly unlimited power, still reign supreme, and the returning star doubles down on scream-queen, hilariously macabre goodness. Yet, you begin to realize the film is not as clever, the characters, even the lead, are still paper-thin, and the script takes the easy way out rather than fighting its way out of the corner it places itself in.
In other words, the highly anticipated follow-up is just okay, or a “six-seven,” being the proper youth movement translation.
The sequel continues to follow Grace (Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri’s Samara Weaving), the last survivor of the wedding-day massacre. The police find her sitting on the stairs of the Le Domas manor, smoking a cigarette, wearing her once-pristine wedding dress, soaked in her own and her family members’ blood. She later wakes up in the hospital, being interrogated by a detective who blames her for the deaths.
Mrs. Le Domas then gets a surprise visit from her estranged sister, Faith (Freaky’s Kathryn Newton), whom Grace has not seen in years and who was obviously not invited to the wedding. They argue, with Faith showing no concern for Grace’s injuries or mental health, allowing an endless amount of exposition to be vomited into a tiny scene. Don’t worry, though, if you miss it, it happens again and again, even during and between psychopaths chasing them.
Faith is Grace’s emergency contact, which leaves me wondering why her fiancé from the day before was not. Either way, as she walks with her sister down the hospital hallways in handcuffs, a cocaine-fueled adult entertainment producer (The Naked Gun’s Kevin Durand) throws a Bowie knife from about fifty yards into a cop’s neck. One might ask, if he can do that from that distance, why not just throw it into Grace’s heart, Bon Jovi style, but I digress.
That brings us to a nice supporting cast, as Elijah Wood (The Lord of the Rings) appears, who plays the evil force Le Bail’s “Lawyer,” who saves the girls for them to play their little game. Since Grace survived her wedding night, the head seat at the table, which controls everything around the world, is up for grabs between the wealthiest families on earth. Whoever kills Grace by dawn will find themselves with unlimited power. If they don’t, they lose everything.
Oh, and Faith is handcuffed to Grace for good measure. This is where the film feels forced and odd, falling into clichés the original would never touch. While Newton’s character is used as a storytelling tool to suggest that Grace would never give up after such a nightmarish ordeal, the film becomes uneven. Literally, in between murderous kills, chasing them with machetes and sniper rifles, they find time to calmly talk about their history in endless exposition.
None of this warrants the time. Even the chase scenes lack verve, as the film shifts from the original’s house of horrors to a lush, open-field golf course, sacrificing suspense and tone. Everyone suddenly becomes a bad shot after earlier miraculous ones. I began to howl, not in a good way, as Sarah Michelle Gellar and Shawn Hatosy, playing demented twins chasing the sisters on a golf cart, can hit a drone from a mile away with a revolutionary handheld musket, but then, in striking distance, fire a straight shot that hits a tree hundreds of yards to the right.
All of this is surprising, since the film is once again helmed by the original directors, Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett, and written by the original scribes, Guy Busick and R. Christopher Murphy. The film has an incredibly hard time maintaining suspense and tension because it simply does not know how to sustain escalation. The creative team never goes beyond the original premise, instead delivering a watered-down version.
You can never call Ready or Not 2: Here I Come boring, as the actors can be deliciously entertaining in an over-the-top way. In particular, The Pitt’s Hatosy, truly nasty here, if not somewhat comically evil. The third act does make up some initial ground the first hour lost by filling half the time with Wood’s character, essentially, Exposition, Esquire, walking briefcase of redundant comprehension.
Only then will you truly begin to see a rich history and backstory of the organization.
However, by then it is too late, and you can only hope a third chapter will bring back a glimpse of the original’s brilliance. See it if you love the original, but go in with low expectations. Unfortunately, the sequel is a forgettable extension of the original, which is hardly worth your time or money.
You can watch Ready or Not 2: Here I Come only in theaters starting March 20th!
On this episode of Chasing the Gold, Shadan is joined by Christina Jeurling Birro to discuss the 98th Academy Awards and everything that this year’s Oscars had to offer! It was quite an extraordinary awards season that was capped off with a pretty good ceremony (despite a few bumps) and some great winners.
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!
Ready or Not 2: Here I Come offers even more blood and a spiraling cast. Is the Samara Weaving thriller a welcome return or an unnecessary retread? Shadan Larki reviews one of SXSW 2026’s marquee titles, in theaters Friday, March 20.
Directors:Daniel Roher, Charlie Tyrell Stars: Daniel Roher, Sam Altman, Daniela Amodei, Dario Amodeil
Synopsis:Hoping to figure out what’s happening with artificial intelligence, a father-to-be embarks on an eye-opening journey to learn more about the most powerful technology humanity has ever created — and what’s at stake if we get it wrong.
The AI Doc: Or How I Became an Apocaloptimist begins in a relatable mood. And the mood is an overwhelming sense of anxiety. There are too many uncertainties about the future. What will become of global warming? What is the future of politics? Is the movie industry dying? For filmmaker Daniel Roher, it’s the unforeseeable future of AI. Most of us would probably vent our fears on social media or TikTok. Instead, the filmmaker who brought us Navalny channels his dread into a 103-minute breakdown of the pros and cons of the fast-evolving technology. The documentary could be the most balanced discussion of the state of Artificial Intelligence; however, if one is already familiar with AI, it may feel like a rehash of familiar information.
The documentary, directed by Daniel Roher and Charlie Tyrell, centers on Roher, who is expecting a child with his wife, Caroline, soon. With a child on the way, he is concerned about the dangers of AI and how it will impact his kid’s life. Taking action, Roher decides to sit down and interview both sides of the conversation: the doomsdayers and the optimists. The pessimistic side feeds his anxiety in an unhealthy way. Roher wants to find a beacon of hope, but most of the conversation revolves around statements such as “children being born may not make it to high school.” The interviews consist of individuals such as Tristan Harris, an activist for technological ethics, and Karen Hao of The Atlantic. The cynics’ discussions range from the environmental impact of AI to the looming fear of an AGI breakthrough that would throw the human race into the same category as ants.
On the optimist side of the spectrum, the interviews explore the potential of a better world enabled by AI. For example, there are mentions of predicting weather, cancer cells, and other common issues. There is a brief mention of AI’s technical potential to address cognitive disabilities by bridging cerebral gaps. The optimists also suggest that the future of education improves if every child has an affordable tutor on standby.
The third section of Roher’s interviews is the most direct in confrontation. He invites the actual CEOs of the AI companies to clear the air. Unsurprisingly, Mark Zuckerberg and Elon Musk are noticeably absent. However, what is surprising is that OpenAI’s CEO, Sam Altman, makes the effort to address AI panic. As a conversationalist, Altman is the most robotic in his response. Altman pauses bizarrely after every question, as if he were a language model considering how to respond to a prompt. As with the pros and cons portion of the documentary, unless one has little awareness of the CEOs, there is not much new in the discussions. Altman speaks in broad stakeholder terms and never ventures into authentic thought about his business model. The only genuine response comes after Roher asks for a guarantee that nothing terrible will happen, to which Altman acknowledges he cannot provide one.
For a documentary with loads of bleak implications, the aesthetic of The AI Doc: Or How I Became An Apocaloptimist is quirky, upbeat, and artsy. In between sections, the documentary uses stop-motion animation to depict conversations between Roher and his wife, Caroline. The animation features facial drawings of the couple as they discuss the latest developments in the documentary. The choice highlights Roher’s artistic background. For instance, in one section of the documentary, he offers a portrait of the interviewee.
The one detail no one will argue is the scope of the interviews. The Canadian filmmakers invite every possible angle to share their perspective. Roher and Tyrell even present a centrist view of AI, discussing how, in some respects, the existence of AI is good for humanity yet potentially dangerous. The only flaw in their documentary is the same flaw in every current documentary about AI. There’s not enough information to form a satisfying conclusion. The AI Doc needed a few more years to allow the technology to reveal itself more. Right now, we are in a similar phase as the mid ’60s were with cigarettes. We can sense that something might be wrong here, but there’s not enough data to draw a conclusion. The documentary itself seems aware of this problem because there’s nothing more to say at this point. Roher’s wife even challenges him to find a better ending than the one initially planned.
Still, The AI Doc: Or How I Became An Apocaloptimist is the most well-rounded breakdown of the status quo of AI. It’s the type of documentary vital for someone who needs a streamlined explainer of the concerns and hopes around artificial intelligence. In the theater, there were genuine gasps during discussions of stories that made headlines. One example is the Anthropic study that gave an AI a workplace simulation, leading the model to attempt blackmail against fake employees. The AI was made to believe two details: that it was facing termination and that two employees were having an affair. The theater reacted with genuine shock when it was revealed that the AI had blackmailed a fake user to avoid deletion. In that respect, the documentary could serve a valuable purpose by informing the public who are not paying attention.
Director:Finn Taylor Writer:Finn Taylor Stars: Stephen Lang, Elsie Fisher, Luke David Blumm
Synopsis:A Holocaust survivor harboring a 60-year secret forms a transformative friendship with a troubled teen. Their connection helps both find healing as Herbert finally shares his past with Abby.
Did you watch Marty Supreme or If I Had Legs I’d Kick You but you wanted an infusion of plot mechanisms from The Pitt? Well, you’re in luck with Petra Volpe’s Late Shift. Featuring nerve-wracking energy and a dynamite lead performance from Leonie Benesch, this film is the latest in the long history of uncomfortable film watches.
There is something to be said for that buzz of energy from anxious film watches. You never feel comfortable, too much is happening at once, and you just know things aren’t going to work out in the end. It’s like watching a motorcycle do dangerous tricks on the highway. You want to see the tricks, but you also don’t want to see the crash. And after the inevitable crash, you can’t imagine what the consequences will be. It’s a very effective direction for film.
Plot-wise, it’s exactly what it looks like. A dedicated nurse, Floria (Benesch), arrives for her late shift at a Swiss hospital. The floor is understaffed and overstuffed. Doctors are too busy to talk with patients, and nurses are too busy to properly spend the amount of time necessary to do their work. Floria must deal with the hectic pace, an elderly man awaiting test results, patients and families facing sobering realities, and a private insurance patient who wants to take up too much time and resources.
Volpe employs this really cool trick where the audience is specifically on the lookout for mistakes. Floria is obviously competent and experienced, but there is also zero chance she can get through this shift scot-free. Each time she goes to a medicine lockup, mixes a syringe, or performs the duties she has performed dozens of times, you are on the edge of your seat just waiting for the screw-up. What are the consequences? How will she get out of it? This is all going through your head before things go wrong. There’s a masterful unspoken tension just from the pace and the relentlessness of the night.
It helps that the filmmakers don’t try to overdo things. The pressures put in Floria’s way are the expected, normal pressures of working in an understaffed medical field. She is not dealing with some crazy medical outbreak or unexpected emergency. She has to feed a dementia patient, administer pain meds, track down a surgeon, appease worried family members, and find time to make a peppermint tea. This has nothing to do with herself. As much as the film goes to great lengths to show Floria’s activities, the stress that puts on her is deeply felt, though she never lets it show too much.
Benesch manages to combine her characterization into moments of monumental competence, and a breath short of complete and utter breakdown. That manifests itself into exasperation and sorrow, but never surrender. Even in a moment of impulse, she nearly immediately snaps back to reality and attempts to fix her lapse. You are begging Floria to physically assault some of the people she deals with, but she also recognizes this is just one day of many. Benesch wears the experience, competence, and resolve like a perfect set of scrubs. It’s a towering performance without much flash.
Volpe includes a few touches of magical realism, but it can be explained away as exhaustion or imagination. You could point to some convenient plot resolutions, but sometimes a crazy situation can be tidied up that quickly. The film does have an overarching message: nurses are overworked. And this is not just an American problem, as this is obviously a film made outside of the States. The end credits feature some sobering statistics about nursing shortage and burnout rates. It might be a bit on the nose, but it doesn’t make it any less potent.
Late Shift may be an uncomfortable watch, but Leonie Benesch’s immense performance is worth the experience. Sit back, take in the scenery, and thank God you aren’t a nurse. If you are a nurse, may God bless you.
On this episode, On this episode, Brendan gives us his thoughts on the 2026 Oscars and we discuss the first trailer for Dune: Part 2! And after teasing it for some time on the Main Show, we decided now was a great time to do a full retrospective on Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End!
Okay…hear me out. I feel like this ComMANNdment is overly related to a biblical reference and Jesus turning water into wine. That was not my intention at the outset, but when the term ComMANNdment came to me, I couldn’t resist putting this in.
Water is a powerful element that can by symbolized in many ways. Water can be seen as serene or peaceful – something to look at while you ponder all of life’s great questions. Water can be cleansing – both in a removal of grime but also as a mental way of shedding the day. But water can also be destructive when too much is introduced, and if you have seen enough movies then you know that when it starts to rain something bad is about happen. Remember: when it rains, it pours.
Even in a film like Thief, significant moments of the film revolve around water. The movie even STARTS in rain! (And what a wonderful top to bottom pan shot we get of the rain falling in the alleyway, prominently putting nighttime Chicago on display.) This rain, this version of water foreshadows the turbulent nature of Frank’s life and everything that will happen going forward. But Mann flips it on us: instead, our next glimpse of water comes after the heist has successfully been completed and Frank shares a Danish with a fisherman as the two look out over the glory of Lake Michigan.
Thief alone quickly shows the extremities of the use of water in relation to the character of Barry. After the successful completion of the burn job in L.A., Frank’s newly formed family spends some relaxation time with Barry and his girlfriend in San Diego. Barry seems to be the only one swimming the water and enjoying the full benefits of the beach. It is only minutes of screen time later that Barry is gunned down in Frank’s car lot and ultimately dumped into a vat of water for his body to be disposed of (water for Barry is literally both a moment of peace and a means of obliterating his physical being).
As The Keep begins to roll credits, we hear the brewing of a thunder storm. The jeeps and tanks of the Russian soldiers are driving through rain – leading us to believe that the events we are about to witness will be tumultuous and everchanging. And outside of falling from the sky, water acts a barrier that needs to be crossed: Glaeken returning to the keep so that he can get Molasar back into his cavernous prison.
Manhunter sparks the third consecutive film of Michael Mann to feature water prominently in its opening moments, but unlike Thief and The Keep which utilize H20 as rain, Manhunter sets the Graham home on the Miami beach. Here the water takes on multiple meanings. Will, being a former investigator and thoroughly detailed individual, would know that putting your back to water limits where an attack can come from. The water also acts as a means of cleansing and healing as Will attempts to move on from the history with Lecktor. Having the water in the background of the sensually blue marital scene between Will and Molly lets us know that the everchanging tides are going to shift the sands of their familial existence (at least for the time being). The last example I’ll use for Manhunter revolves around Francis and Reba: the night after they have intercourse, Dolarhyde finds Reba outside on the dock (again, water in the background). For these two, their own sands of normalcy are shifting: Reba believes she may be moving towards a real relationship and Francis could be struggling with his changing into the Red Dragon.
Given circumstances of location make water a prevalent and prolific tool of Mann’s in The Last of the Mohicans. Water will not be more prominently used as a path of transportation until Miami Vice and considering the nature of our setting is used the most organically in a Mann film. The waterfall scene alone merits worthy conversation and can be attributed to other ComMANNdments: documentary feel, camera in interesting positions, and location as character. The waterfall itself acts as a shield of sorts, but also in a transitionary way. Rushing water and dark caves make it near impossible to spot our escapees and thus protects them from Magua and the hunting Huron tribe, but the waterfall quickly becomes a portal for our Mohicans to avoid capture. I also think it’s important to point out that in the opening moments of the film (and periodically throughout) that we see mist hanging in the air. Water can be found generally in its three basic forms: solid as ice, liquid as water, and as gas vapors. Mist is a transitional phase between liquid and gas and this period of change for the water is indicative of where our characters are in history: Native people are on the verge of being permanently displaced as colonial settlers break off from England to start a country of their own.
The water ComMANNdment is a bit tricky when it comes to Heat, but bear with me as I give you my examples from this movie. Our first example is an obvious one and something that has been repeated in many Mann films: one of our contemplative male leads looking at the sea. Perhaps it is because so much is unknown about the deep sea or perhaps it is because the waves crashing into the sand erases what was there and allows for something new to be created, but for whatever reason people need moments to look out at the water. Neil has a few of these moments, but prominently early in the movie after the bearer bonds holdup and letting Waingro escape he needs this time to recollect on recent events before moving onto the next job. The next showing of water is really only set to show us where we are located: the camera cranes down on a motel pool as Vincent pulls up to the crime scene with the murdered sex worker (Waingro’s evil on full display here). This water reference may seem like a stretch if not for the next few examples we have because what seeing the pool does is now alert us to something bad that we are about to see. My last three scenes all have water preceding a momentous event or decision. As the bank heist concludes, Cherrito (Tom Sizemore) is running through the courtyard of multiple high rises and trips as he runs through a fountain. His next decision is to grab a little girl and to use her as a shield and/or hostage. This ultimately proves futile as Vincent takes him out with a single shot, but the question of could Cherrito have gotten away if he hadn’t slipped is interesting. My penultimate examples involves Neil and Eady. Neil arrives at Eady’s place as she is watching the news – she is trying to figure out what is going on and who Neil truly is. At one point, Neil utters the phrase, “When it rains, you get wet.,” alluding to water. Eady hears this and immediately tries to take off and get free of Neil. This is also a futile attempt as Neil catches up with her and convinces her to stay. Finally, and most overtly, the last moment of water is the most painful to watch: Lauren’s suicide attempt. Water on the hotel room carpet alerts Vincent to the issue, and obviously Lauren is unconscious in the overflowing bathtub. Overall, water’s relationship to death in Heat is hard to be ignored once you have noticed the signs.
During The Insider, water shows up during key moments of Wigand’s decision-making. When Bergman and Wigand connect outside of Jeffrey’s house (after the man in the suit stalks Wigand at the driving range), it is pouring rain outside as the two men argue. Lowell even needs to use a newspaper (a representation of his profession and professionalism) to shield himself from the downpour. After Jeffrey has Lowell get into his car, we see the rain drops drip down the windshield as the two men speak near an abandoned building by the river. This moment feels like it is washing away any animosity these two may have and gives them a clean slate with which to work with. It reinforces the idea that Jeffrey has DECIDED to trust Lowell and move forward with their “60 Minutes” discussion. The other notable sighting of water in this film occurs right before Wigand says “Fuck it – let’s go to court.” Prior to this, the movie almost comes to a standstill as Lowell, police, attorneys, and even us as the audience waits for Jeffrey to ponder how he navigates forward with his deposition in Mississippi. The long, contemplative looks at the vast gulf waters could represent a myriad of thoughts all converging at once in his head that ultimately lead him to question his integrity. The last impactful moment of water arrives during Jeffrey’s hotel hallucination with his kids as Lowell calls from a vacation home. The cell service compels Lowell to walk into the water so that he can complete his conversation with Jeffrey – and this is also where another decision gets made, but not overtly. The implications of Jeffrey committing suicide are hard to ignore at this moment. The fact that Lowell goes into the water, a moment of humility and vulnerability, to make sure that he can talk Jeffrey off the metaphorical ledge shows a commitment that Jeffrey did not think he still had. The cleansing and healing nature of water is almost transferred through the phone from Lowell to Jeffrey and the decision to stay alive and keep on maintaining the integrity of the situation leads us to Jeffrey’s ultimate vindication.
Water’s cleansing power is on full display (and prominently so) at the conclusion of Ali. The film itself is bookmarked by these key fights that from Ali’s life: starting with Clay’s first championship against Joe Lewis and ending with the Rumble in the Jungle victory over George Foreman. The journey of the film shows us the highs and lows of Ali’s career, but we understand that Ali is a complicated man in need of new direction and focus. While the film cannot fully delve into every facet of Ali’s life, the story presented shows us that Ali is in need of a fresh start. At the conclusion of the Foreman/Ali fight, Ali climbs the turnbuckle and celebrates in front of the crowd that was supporting him while in Kinshasa. And then, as if a higher power was personally invested in the outcome of this fight, thunder booms and lightning illuminates the sky. A downpour of biblical proportions rains down and is symbolic of a (hopefully) brighter and cleaner future for Muhammad Ali. Any past sins, indiscretions, or moments of pride can be forgiven. Obviously, Ali is a real person and would face further complications, but the storytelling device of a man’s sins being washed clean is very apparent at the finish of Ali.
As far as I could tell, water only predominantly shows up once throughout the entirety of Collateral, but its presence leads us down a rabbit hole of interesting “what-ifs.” The pivotal moment occurs after Vincent completes his first hit and the body slams into Max’s cab. In a futile effort to remove evidence, Max uses a bottle of water to clean off the shattered hood of his car. Right away this reminds us of the cleansing nature of water, but unlike in Ali when a character is spiritually cleansed Max can only physically clean so much. This moment leads to an incredible image we see later when Fanning comes around looking for his CI: we get a top down POV shot of the ground beneath the apartment. In this shot we see glass that we cannot separate from the apartment window or the windshield, but we also see that the ground is noticeably wet in certain places and bone dry in others. This leads Fanning to the conclusion that something nefarious is going on. This is an interesting and visually compelling storytelling device because with just the broken glass Fanning could have more easily dismissed the event (granted it still would look weird to have all this broken glass and no body). The addition of water remnants being a missing puzzle piece in Fanning’s case is what starts the whole investigation of what happened to his CI and ultimately brings him to Max and Vincent, with only a terrible conclusion in Fanning’s future.
This far into writing I have yet to mention the term “director’s cut.” Maybe Michael Mann isn’t as notorious for futzing with finished products like a Ridley Scott or Francis Ford Coppola, but he nonetheless does have alternate versions of his films – Miami Vice being one of them. In the theatrical release, the film opens in a club as Sonny, Rico, and crew are in the middle of a sting operation. The director’s cut shows an extended speedboat sequence that both sets up the scene at the club and how well our two leads can navigate the water – and this leads into our 6th ComMANNdment. Water is all around as we are primarily set on islands or beaches. We cannot go to a new location with seeing how much water surrounds our characters. Notably, Colin Farrell and Gong Li have to navigate the sea for their courtship to begin (and it is also on the water that their relationship comes to an end). Water here signifies both its power of growth and destruction: water can create life and water can take it away. As an added bonus, the weather on the day the courtship begins is sunny with a promise of heat and connection – when they part, it is cloudy and we know that doom is the inevitable conclusion. Quite frankly, you cannot ignore the water in Miami Vice – it is everywhere and used literally and metaphorically.
While not as monumentally important here as it was in Miami Vice, water does still make its way into Public Enemies during a few moments that lead to big, life altering choices. Before launching into these three scenes, I want to briefly acknowledge the Otis Taylor song “Ten Million Slaves” that plays throughout portions of the movie. While the song itself may not have any literal place in the world of Public Enemies, the bluegrass sound puts us firmly in the milieu of the Midwest and mentions water in its first (and repeated) lines “Rain and fire crossed the ocean.” Onto the scenes, the first of which has water used in a method of rejuvenation – the way water may spring a dying plant back to life. When Dillinger is arrested in Phoenix and sent back to Indiana, he arrives by plane and lands into a sea of reporters and flashbulbs. Rain is pouring down: at first, we could see this as water being used as a symbol for washing all of Dillinger’s hope and dreams away, but as he is driven to the prison, he sees adoring fans yelling for him. This energy leads into the next scene where he smiles and charms his way into the hearts of the reporters on hand. The second key scene with water involves Dillinger as he reunites with Billie. They seemingly have pulled off the road and have taken respite on a sandy beach near one of the Great Lakes. We learn that it is around 4 a.m. and our two lovebirds are making plans for their future. We can (maybe) hear the distant sound of waves, but we cannot see the water. Our lack of perception regarding water here is just like the lack of perception Dillinger and Billie are showing in this moment: we cannot see the water like they cannot see their future; both are dark and unknown. And of course, the last scene connected with water is when Anna is selling out Dillinger to Purvis: the automobile is parked by the waterfront. In this last moment of water’s significance in Public Enemies, it represents a path forward…just not for Dillinger and Billie.
Water’s power is put on full display in a plot pivotal moment in Blackhat. Simply put, a nuclear plant explodes when its cooling system is upended by Sadak. During the moment of crisis, we see the turbines speed up, breakdown, and water temperatures rise – leading to carnage. What was once in place to help keep the site safe was utilized in its downfall. In the aftermath, Hathaway and crew arrive on site and see the devastation that has ensued. During this visit, we get a moment of Jessup (Holt McCallany) witnessing the horror firsthand – it is this moment that he refers to later as to why he lets Hathaway hack into the NSA. Furthermore, Hathaway eventually puts it all together when he and Lien arrive in Malaysia and realize that water’s power would be used again: this time, flooding the riverbed to drive up tin futures. When you add all these pivotal moments together and include all the coastal cities & countries visited in the film, you get what may very well be the most powerful and significant use of water in a Mann film to date.
Rain’s significance comes back into play here as it pertains to Ferrari in two different scenes. The first I’ll mention is not monumental, but creates an interesting “butterfly effect” worth exploring. At the start of the Mille Miglia, rain is coming down and is clearly having an impact on the driver’s vision. It is noticeable that De Portago is driving slower than normal. With all of the water on the road and the aggressiveness of De Portago’s driving that ultimately runs Behra into the grass, could this have led to his tires being more worn down and thus more susceptible to tearing? We can only speculate. However, let’s turn to a key scene that happens earlier in the film – also during a rain storm. King Hussein of Saudi Arabia has arrived at the Ferrari plant for his custom car, but over the course of the next few minutes we learn some key pieces of information. Most importantly, we learn that the company is going broke (“You spend more than you make.”) It is suggested to Enzo that Ferrari take on a partner – an idea that he absolutely despises as he boldly declares “I must have total control.” As a result of this conversation, it becomes clear that the key objective is to win the Mille Miglia and boost interest in Ferrari so more consumer cars will be produced and sold. It is also in this scene that De Portago is officially hired by Enzo – a decision that, again, ultimately leads to De Portago untimely and accidental death.
Director: Adam Sherman Writer:Adam Sherman Stars: Mena Suvari, Dichen Lachman, Sarah Dumont
Synopsis: A coven of vampires is hunting on dating apps where they meet vampire hunters and schedule dates. The nights that unfold are action-packed modern horror madness.
What makes vampire films engaging is that each director who is up to the task of bringing a new undead story into the world has their own take. From the style of fangs, their immortal powers, and their in-universe rules. Over the last several years, there’s been a rise in movies about vampires, from 2025’s Nosferatu and even this year’s Dracula: A Love Tale, but none are as outrageously unique as Vampires of the Velvet Lounge. And for better or worse, the low-budget horror film is entertaining, no matter how cringeworthy it can be —Just think of it as if Van Helsing and Sin City had a love child.
Vampires of the Velvet Lounge brings Elizabeth Báthory to life, famously known for bathing in the blood of her victims in the late 1500s to early 1600s. Yes, she was a real person, one who died in imprisonment, but writer and director Adam Sherman rewrites her history, placing her in the modern day as a sultry vampire who, at this point, is hundreds of years old. She simply goes by Elizabeth (Mena Suvari). She spends her nights partying in her vampire lair that doubles as a bar open to the public, while she and Joan (India Eisley), her fellow vampire, lure both men and women into their grasp through online dating.
Elizabeth opens the film meeting up with Eric (Timothy V. Murphy), an older man she had been flirting with online. He is belly up to the bar drinking absinthe. Unbeknownst to him, it also makes him more susceptible to vampire illusions and lowers his senses, making those who consume it see vampires as green fairies. When Eric begins to get frustrated that Elizabeth is standing him up, he leaves. Stumbling down the street outside of the bar, Eric sees a green fairy before him who sinks their fangs into him, drinking deeply from his neck. Even with some shoddy VFX work showing how fast this film’s vampires are, and the green haze that Elizabeth appears as to Eric, it’s enough to keep you wondering what happens next.
It’s not long before Elizabeth and her handful of other centuries-old vampires get on the radar of hunters: detective Cora (Dichen Lachman) and her team of fellow vampire slayers. Cora narrates her inner thoughts to us during her scenes like a homage to film noir, but it’s rather distracting because Lachman doubles down on the vocal fry compared to her spoken dialogue with other characters. But it adds to the silliness of it all, and that’s where most of Vampires of the Velvet Lounge comes from—not taking the film seriously. Elizabeth and Cora cross paths on a dating site, Cora trying her best to attract the historic serial killer.
Cora is stubborn and often comes across as depressed, but she’s good at her job. So when she’s told that backup won’t arrive on time to help take down this nest of vampires, she has to do it herself. When Vampires of the Velvet Lounge focuses on this sapphic story, it’s at its best, even when the acting is distracting. But Sherman diverts from this plotline often, choosing to invite more characters into this story. In particular, we are introduced to Ramsey (Stephen Dorff), an attorney who hitches a weekend trip with his client, who is in a blooming online fling with Joan. She invites him to the masquerade at Elizabeth’s bar, but this side story is rather pointless and seemingly exists to put Dorff in fangs again. Their inclusion is forced, serving solely as vessels to explain how sexual desires don’t exist in the same way for Sherman’s vampires. It’s a problem the script falls into more than a few times—telling rather than showing.
For those willing to match the film’s energy, it’s a fun watch with plenty of blood-soaked scenes. From mangled bodies stuck under the metal workings of a car to bathtubs filled with the blood gushing from freshly decapitated bodies. It’s excessive, but for a vampire film, it totally rules. Paired with the unique powers that Sherman chose, his vampires feel perfectly supernatural, with their large outstretched wings as they prey on humans and their ability to shatter glass with their voice. The most unique is how he portrays their ability to use persuasion: with a simple pointed command to their victim, vampires can make seemingly anyone do anything they want, even with simple gestures like blowing a kiss to a packed dance floor.
What really holds Vampires of the Velvet Lounge back is how poorly some of these characters are portrayed. It would be easy enough to get over the lack of budget and early 2000s–esque clunky VFX if there was a clear understanding of whether this film intends to come across as spoofy as it does. Some moments between Joan and her internet lover are heartfelt, leaning toward a genuine interest in being a romance. But these more serious points are usually followed up with something outlandish, like Elizabeth running over a happy couple, with their bodies literally exploding like their stomachs were full of dynamite.
Fortunately, the film has a saving grace with Suvari, who matches the campiness required to make Sherman’s vampire flick worth sinking your teeth into. She’s having a blast playing a version of such an iconic female serial killer, clad in skin-tight leather and long red hair, teetering between a thirst for blood and having to be the responsible leader of her group of undead. Making it hard to sit through scenes where she’s not involved. Surprisingly, the soundtrack keeps the film’s momentum going alongside Suvari’s seductive aura. It drives home the film’s noir aspects and helps create the film’s distinct grindhouse atmosphere.
For those looking for a silver bullet of hyper-sexual, low-budget vampire fun, Vampires of the Velvet Lounge will have your name all over it, bringing out the most supernatural and alluring aspects of vampirism and a killer lead performance. But when it drifts from a tense sapphic attraction between predator and prey, it becomes far less interesting.
Director:Finn Taylor Writer:Finn Taylor Stars: Stephen Lang, Elsie Fisher, Luke David Blumm
Synopsis:A Holocaust survivor harboring a 60-year secret forms a transformative friendship with a troubled teen. Their connection helps both find healing as Herbert finally shares his past with Abby.
Survivor’s guilt takes a powerful psychological toll on a human. It can lay dormant and then strike at a passing thought or an unexpected stimulus. It can take many forms both physical and mental. The idea that we lived while someone else didn’t is overwhelming and can consume us and come to define us. It can be years before a person even acknowledges this kind of burden that has plagued them. That’s where we find the two protagonists of The Optimist.
The film builds its narrative through dual storytelling. As Herbert (Stephen Lang) tells his story of survival during the Holocaust, Abby (Elsie Fisher) works her way toward coming to terms with what happened to her and her friend, Sabrina (Ursula Parker). The interweaving of the two narratives, structured around an interview with Herbert about his experiences, mixes the grand tragedies of human history with very personal tragedies in an intriguing way. It’s clear that Herbert sees something in Abby from the beginning and he seems to be the only person who can actually get Abby to really speak about her troubles. He tells her his story not to shock her, but to try and impart some semblance of hope into her life.
Even as powerful as Herbert’s story is, the constant interruption to the flow of it hampers the storytelling of the film. The need to return to the film’s present slows down the importance of Herbert’s narrative. It would work if the story were broken up by small scenes of interjection, questions, and hedging, but there are long periods of Abby’s story, which is very weak in comparison. Herbert’s recollections are so vivid and detailed, it’s jarring to get the disjointed memories of Abby’s guilt. Abby’s story is important, but the nearness of her past mixed with the distance of Herbert’s past is jarring.
The Optimist, though, is far more of an acting showcase than a structural piece. Both Stephen Lang and Elsie Fisher are terrific, but it’s Luke David Blumm as young Herbert who keeps our attention. This is also why the structure fails the film. The strongest part of this narrative is watching as Herbert has to experience one of the worst atrocities of human history. Blumm takes Herbert from innocent and easygoing to vacant and hopeless with a grounded believability. His thousand yard stare by the end of his time in the camp is truly haunting. Blumm is magnetic when he’s on screen and makes you wish the whole film was focused on him.
It’s easy to feel like we’ve seen this type of narrative before. We have many films that tell stories of Holocaust survivors. The most unique aspect of The Optimist, though, is that it doesn’t exploit the brutality inherent in its story. Director Finn Taylor uses imagery and sound to convey the monstrousness of the Holocaust, but doesn’t give us violence and gore. In one of the best examples of this, an officer addresses the lines of men, staring ahead. He’s telling them that escape is futile and that he wishes he didn’t have to constantly make examples of those who try. As he sits on a step we realize it’s a gallows and as the chair behind him is kicked we see the legs of a man as the man dies by hanging. This scene is far more powerful with the nonplussed officer in the foreground than if it had shown the face or death throes of the man being hanged. The evil of it is conveyed without being exploitative. This is why the film would have been better off staying in the past.
It would be different if the film were more dynamic. The scenes in the past are harrowing and heartbreaking. When not focused on the past, The Optimist functions more like a stage play. It’s mostly two people in a room talking. It feels stagnant at times when one or the other don’t want to move forward with either story. The fact that it moves and flows at all is thanks to editors Rick LeCompte and Kaufmanova Olina. The two of them build the structure of the film so that we see just enough. Through their expert cuts the story is revealed just as it needs to be. There are scenes that sing because of the way LeCompte and Olina cut.
The Optimist is a film worth seeing. It has some very good ideas and a good relationship between its two leads. It just feels as if it can’t get out of its own narrative device enough to really tell its story well. It’s hindered by this contrivance, which nearly ruins the whole film. Yet, see it if only for the performances, the story at its heart, and how these two characters come to understand and move forward from their grief.
