Directors: Neil Ely, Lloyd Eyre-Morgan
Writer: Lloyd Eyre-Morgan
Stars: Lloyd Eyre-Morgan, David Tag, Liam Boyle

Synopsis: Benji encounters Jake at an airport gate, sensing attraction. Their relationship unfolds through Amsterdam trips and intimacy, revealing complex power dynamics.

It’s extremely lonely when you feel that you are unloveable, or when you feel that you deserve to be treated poorly by someone else in a relationship. There are healthy relationships where one partner is dominant and the other submissive, but those are based on respect and consent. Any other form of this is emotional and physical abuse. To watch someone live in this cycle of toxic partnerships is painful and aggravating. It’s very hard to watch Departures for this reason.

The film is billed as a comedy. There are several funny scenes and lines, but the humor of the story is heavily carried by the narration and Benji’s (Lloyd Eyre-Morgan) point of view shots as well as a few fantasy sequences. Even with those, though, the film feels like it’s a friend who is finally ready to open up about a terrible relationship, describing the bad circumstances they’ve been living with while laughing as you sit in open mouthed horror. The funny moments never supersede these awful, depressing images.

That is the point that writer, co-director, and star Lloyd Eyre-Morgan is trying to make. His script is meant to evoke the hindsight that comes from the other side of a truly toxic relationship. In seeing Benji’s pain played out in the order and way he wants to show us, Benji is showing us an equation for comedy. Pain plus time equals laughter. We all have painful memories we can laugh about now or at least tell so that they don’t affect us negatively any more. Those incongruities can make for something funny in the long run. Yet, even the funny bits are a bit dull. 

The bits and quips can’t overpower the sadness in watching someone self-destruct. If it has a comparison, it’s like watching a film with a drug addict as the main character. They continuously use and it becomes far too painful to watch. Benji’s self-loathing in constantly chasing anonymous sex in order to feel something after his break up with Jake (David Tag) serves the story that the filmmakers want to tell, but is just not engrossing. It’s a turn off in many ways to just see the spiral, but never feel that there is a way out. Even when there appears to be a way out, it feels tentative and too much like the toxicity will seep back in.

What Departures has going for it is an excellent depiction of the ugliness of internalized homophobia. In the flashbacks we see Jake as both bully and bullied. His relationship to queerness is that it is his weakness, pure and simple. He engages in it with his trysts with Benji, but can’t bring himself to speak about it, to enjoy it, or label it. In flashbacks we learn how he was rejected completely by his family, not for queerness, just because of their own selfishness. This translates into his constant chasing of multiple partners, none of whom know that there is anyone else. Jake’s  loathing seeps out of him into every relationship he has and means he’ll never truly be happy.

It’s the same with Benji. While he knows he’s gay and is out of the closet, he still feels as if he has to be punished for it. He picks the worst men for himself because they will make him feel bad for being himself. He’s got such a deep self-loathing that the poison the men in his life spew at him feels like an antidote for his own hatred. It’s an external confirmation of what he’s always believed, that he’s not worthy or worth anything.

Departures is a difficult watch. It’s not meant to be. The filmmakers may have intended something more balanced. It’s likely that there will be people for whom this film rings true. It’s likely they will see themselves in this film and get some satisfaction about being on the other side of it. Though, it’s likely that this comedy is just too depressing for the rest of us to want to sit with. It’s definitely not a film for those that want a light send up of toxic relationships.

Grade: D

Director: Tyler Atkins
Writers: David Frigerio, Russell Crowe
Stars: Daniel MacPherson, Mojean Aria, Russell Crowe

Synopsis: MMA legend Patton James, now a commercial fisherman, is pulled back into the cage when his brother is in danger. Reuniting with his old coach Sammy, he commits to one final fight in ONE Championship against its brutal champion Xavier Grau.

Films that feature MMA fighting are so much more brutal than other combat sport films. While there are harrowing fight scenes in boxing films, the fighting is structured and regulated. The same with films that deal with martial arts competitions. In a film with MMA there’s technique and skill like the others, but it feels like the point of the fight is physical damage. In boxing you hit, but you hit to score or knock down. In most competitive martial arts films, the defeat of the opponent is done with points or a pin. The fighters in MMA hit seemingly without any motive beyond completely incapacitating their opponent. Unless in the narrative of the opponent being an actual “bad guy,” watching our hero beat the snot out of someone else is a bit unsatisfying and hardly motivational. This makes films like Beast struggle to find footing in a genre dominated by inspiration and heart.

Beast certainly tries every trope in the genre, though. It wants to get us to feel something for Patton (Daniel MacPherson) and his journey back into the fight game. Writers David Frigerio and Russell Crowe give Patton every one of the major sports motivations. His financial situation is precarious, sibling rivalry, sibling protection, revenge, and redemption are all reasons Patton returns to the fighting world. Even though most overlap at some point, they do try to let the story evolve into each of these motivations, but it’s at the sacrifice of all the characters.

The character that suffers most from this is Malon (Mojean Aria) who is Patton’s younger brother. Malon is a jerk. He’s brash, aggressive, and every cliche of the fighter looking for something to prove. After he’s seriously injured in a fight, Malon could have become more vulnerable, maybe made his way back into his brother’s life in a more meaningful way, but he’s not given that chance. He just becomes a prop in Patton’s motivation to fight Xavier Grau (Bren Foster) one last time. It’s even more confounding as Patton seems to have genuine affection for this little twerp. In the flashback scenes the two of them have, there is a heartfelt gauziness to the screen. Yet these are near wordless seconds of screen time. We’re given no real reason why Patton should ever give this goober the time of day. This relationship holds no real weight and so for it to be the linchpin for so many actions that Patton takes is baffling.

Though, most who may want to see this film may see the story and characters as just a means to an end anyway. The main reason to see a film like Beast is to see the emotional arc of the characters take physical form in the circle, as these fighters call their ring. The three fight sequences created by director Tyler Atkins and cinematographer Thomaz Labanca are exciting. They look like these blows are landing as hard as they would be in life. It looks utterly brutal. Thankfully you can forget the lackluster story once the final fight begins.

The final fight sequence is very long. There are lots of cuts to Luciana (Kelly Gale), Patton’s wife, terrified at home, Sammy (Russell Crowe), his former trainer, streaming on his computer at the gym, and Barry (Matt Nable), the loan shark, and his enforcers watching on Barry’s strip club headquarters’ big screen. The sequence is a far better short film than the feature before it. You almost wish they could have created a framework around this fight with short interludes of flashbacks between rounds to give context. Without the linear nature of the scenes that come before, though, the context of the fight is lost. The film builds up to this contest and makes it the make or break of the film.

With that in mind, your mileage with Beast may vary. There is certainly a story and plot, but it’s nothing new and really just everything old about combat sport films. The action is dynamic and the training montages are top notch, but most of the rest is not that interesting. A film about MMA shouldn’t be this much of a snooze.

Grade: D

Director: Taratoa Stappard
Writer: Taratoa Stappard
Stars: Ariana Osborne, Toby Stephens, Umi Myers

Synopsis: A Maori Gothic Revenge Horror set in Victorian England, 1859.

Gothic horror film Mārama, writer-director Taratoa Stappard takes familiar elements and reframes them through an Indigenous perspective, crafting a film that is as much about historical reckoning as it is about spectral terror. The result is a genre-bending work that is visually striking, thematically ambitious, and unconventional. As the first co-release between Dark Sky Films and Watermelon Pictures, Mārama signals a commitment to bold, boundary-pushing storytelling. It may not be a flawless execution, but it is a striking and thought-provoking one.

Set in North Yorkshire in 1859, the film follows a young Māori woman, played by Ariāna Osborne, who is summoned from Aotearoa (New Zealand) to England. As she uncovers the truth about her family’s past, her journey into the unknown becomes far more unsettling. She is forced to confront not only a legacy of colonial violence but her deeply personal connection to it.

Osborne’s performance carries the weight of the narrative with intensity, allowing grief, anger, and resilience to surface naturally. Her excellent and compelling performance is one of the many reasons to watch this film. The supporting cast adds texture to this world, all with an unnerving chemistry that will keep audiences guessing. Toby Stephens brings a measured menace to his role as the Englishman tied to the protagonist’s past, embodying an authority that feels both refined and deeply unsettling. Umi Myers and Erroll Shand round out the ensemble with performances that, while occasionally underwritten, contribute to the film’s broader sense of unease.

Visually, Mārama leans into gothic tradition while subtly subverting it. The Yorkshire setting is rendered in muted, cold tones, vast landscapes, austere interiors, and looming architecture that feels almost sentient in its watchfulness. Yet these familiar aesthetics are disrupted by the presence of Māori cultural elements, creating a visual and thematic tension that runs throughout the film. The result is a kind of cultural dissonance that mirrors the protagonist’s own experience. In this, it’s beautifully clever. 

From natural sounds of the ocean to hearing every heavy breath, the stillness keeps the film grounded. There are classical, striking violins and soft piano sequences to help drive the scenes along. As dialogue can be sparse, we’re observing the actors and the visuals around them. But what is most intriguing is the local indigenous singing, which is both beautiful and powerful.  

The “haunting” in Mārama is not just supernatural, but historical. Colonial violence is treated as an active force. This approach gives the film a weight that elevates it beyond standard gothic fare, even if it occasionally struggles to balance its ideas with narrative momentum. The film is, of course, very dimly lit, building a strong sense of tension and intrigue. There are one or two jump scares that might catch you out. Spoiler: there’s a scene with a mirror fairly early on that caught me off guard. A typical horror trope, but it was still effective. 

The pacing can feel uneven, particularly in the middle act, where the film lingers on atmosphere at the expense of progression. While the slow burn enhances the sense of dread, it also risks diluting the urgency of the protagonist’s journey. There are moments where the story feels caught between introspection and escalation, never fully committing to either.

Additionally, the film’s blending of genres, gothic horror, historical drama, and revenge narrative, doesn’t always cohere seamlessly. Some transitions feel abrupt, and certain plot developments arrive with less impact than they might have with tighter structuring. Yet these rough edges are also indicative of a film willing to take risks, to push beyond the confines of a single genre.

By centering an Indigenous voice within a traditionally Eurocentric genre, Mārama reshapes the conversation around who gets to tell these stories, and whose histories are allowed to haunt them. It’s a film that asks its audience to look beyond the surface-level chills and consider the deeper, more uncomfortable truths embedded within.In the end, Mārama is a stylish Gothic horror, filled with tension and suspense. The film challenges and reshapes the gothic genre, leaving behind an eerily unnerving feeling. With themes of identity, family, love and loss, this is a perfect film for fans seeking more meaning from the genre.

Grade: B

Director: Pete Ohs
Writers: Pete Ohs, Jeremy O. Harris, Charli XCX, Lena Góra, Will Madden
Stars: Charli XCX, Lena Góra, Jeremy O. Harris, Will Madden

Synopsis: When a volcanic eruption strands Bethany and her boyfriend Rob in Warsaw, Poland, she takes it as a sign to reconnect with her childhood friend, Nel. The pair go on an adventure through the city and Bethany must determine what she wants from life and love.

There’s a real uniqueness to Erupcja and yet the film is also pretty straightforward. Despite having Charli XCX in the lead role, this isn’t some flashy affair meant to announce her arrival as a movie star. That honor went to The Moment, which was a funny satire with surprising emotional depth. This follow up pairs her with director Pete Ohs and a small, but great cast to create something more intimate that sticks in your mind. 

When you talk about this narrative being unique and intimate, that begins with the fact it was written by Pete Ohs and his cast, which I’ve never really seen before. Charli XCX, Jeremy O. Harris, Lena Góra, and Will Madden were all in the room with Ohs trying to craft the best story and arcs for their characters. It could’ve been chaotic, but instead Erupcja not only flows well, but feels very close knit with no one character stepping over the others. 

Plot wise, it will bring to mind Frances Ha, as Bethany (Charli XCX) tries to uncover what she wants from both life and love in her own slightly messy way. Like Frances, Bethany doesn’t feel like a real person yet and leans on her closest friend in the face of anything that could force her to grow up. Even with a loving boyfriend in Rob (Madden), she has no idea what she wants from life and that’s part of what makes her a fascinating character. 

Throughout the film, she seems to be fighting between the idea of a humdrum life with Rob and adventures with her childhood friend Nel (Góra), who has actually built a stable life. There are moments when Bethany seems happy with Rob, but then the camera lingers on Charli XCX’s face and you can see her character’s unease paired with a burning desire to break free. That freedom comes out whenever she’s with Nel, but both of them seem to be being pulled in different directions even as they have a great time. What if they’re no longer good for each other and keep fighting against that notion until everything explodes? Erupcja is about coming into your own as an adult and it’s something that Bethany, Nel, and, to an extent, Rob are faced with. 

It’s really been awesome seeing Charli XCX enter the world of acting and genuinely give it her all, each time out. That doesn’t change here, she’s brilliant as Bethany, turning this, at times, frustrating character into someone sympathetic. She can conjure so many emotions without saying a single word because it’s written all over her face. The minute you start to get angry with Bethany, you’ll notice this shift in her demeanor which makes you hold your horses and consider what she could be trying to say.

Her moments of release during Erupcja are so satisfying because Charli XCX’s has been making you think about where this character’s mindset is and what she might actually want. The beauty of it all is that you won’t fully know which way Bethany is leaning until everything is over. 

You also won’t know what the end is for Nel and Rob because they’re both tied to Bethany. Lena Góra is so charming as Nel, serving as the ideal counter to Charli XCX’s performance as her fiery best friend. They’re in separate places in life, but Nel is willing to throw everything to the side for Bethany and it’s such a good dynamic because there’s a question of not only if Nel should, but if Bethany deserves it.  Góra captures that warmth of friendship while also harboring a sense of doubt. 

Rob, on the other hand, is a confounding character. He’s so tied to Bethany and we barely learn anything about him outside of their relationship. That said, the character is an important cog in this story and much like Bethany and Nel, Rob’s got to figure out what he wants from life and romance. The problem is this character isn’t interesting enough on his own to make you care, even with Will Madden giving a good performance. Every minute with him has something to do with Bethany and, as a result, you’re left wondering why you’re spending time with this one note wet blanket when you could be getting back to her and Nel. 

Another thing bringing Erupcja down is the cinematography by Pete Ohs. While I understand that he was going for an old school foreign film angle with this film, it doesn’t fully come together.  His shots are impressive at times, really capturing the beauty of Warsaw, Poland while also bottling up this feeling that we’re going through the lives of these characters. With that said, it becomes apparent Ohs only has so many tools in his arsenal to make his film capture the vibe of a bygone era. He cycles through the same shots and angles to the point it starts to feel like we’re watching a music video. Things look good, sure, but I would’ve appreciated more visual variety.

Erupcja is a chill relationship drama bolstered by Charli XCX’s charismatic, and outside her comfort zone, lead performance. This story of finding yourself worked far better for me than expected despite one of our central characters being pretty weak. There’s enough meat on the bone to make you connect with Bethany’s journey, and if the writing doesn’t do that for you, Charli certainly will. We now have proof that she can put together multiple good performances and this should make audiences want to see more of her.

Grade: C+

Director: Kirk Jones
Writer: Kirk Jones
Stars: Robert Aramayo, Peter Mullan, Maxine Peake

Synopsis: John Davidson: diagnosed with Tourette’s syndrome at a young age which alienated him from his peers, he struggled with a condition few people had witnessed.

The subgenre of the inspirational biopic is littered with well-meaning directors and actors attempting to educate while entertaining. This is a particularly difficult needle to thread as, with time passing, audiences have become hyper-aware of when they are being preached to about any number of subjects. Although they may have been positively received upon release, films like The Pursuit of Happyness and The Blindside are now looked at with derision, and for good reason. These films metaphorically hold the hand of the audience, telling them what to think and how to react. Now, even if most inspirational stories have this issue, it does not mean that all must. I Swear, a film about a man with Tourette Syndrome attempts to be equal parts uplifting, funny, and heart wrenching, and manages to succeed, to varying levels, at all three.

John Davidson (played as an adult by Robert Aramayo), is now quite well known as a Tourettes activist, and has even been given the title of Member of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (MBE) for his tireless work in normalizing and educating about the disorder that he has lived with. And smartly, I Swear begins just before the awarding by The Queen. This opening scene accomplishes a lot in a short amount of time. The audience is both let in on Davidson’s success and shown that said success does not solve everything. Additionally, it introduces us to Aramayo, who gives a dedicated, genuine, multi-layered performance. His willingness to engage with the tics, slurs, and movement, along with a real human experience is reason enough to watch I Swear.

As I Swear moves many years into the past, it performs a very special trick of context, provided by writer/director Kirk Jones. As Tourettes, especially the type that causes a person to hurl insults and slurs (echolalia), never allows the outside world to see the beginnings of the disorder, there is a distinct lack of understanding, and even fear. In this case, a young Davidson (Scott Ellis Watson) shows the beginning warning signs, just as he is about to attempt to impress some soccer scouts as a goaltender. It is the first in a series of times that life was made difficult for John, through no fault of his own. This continues throughout his childhood, especially from his parents. After his father (Steven Cree) leaves the home, his mother, Heather (Shirley Henderson), has a deeply difficult time with his constant spitting and cussing, and who wouldn’t? Given the misunderstanding of Tourettes even now, it is not hard to imagine that it was no better in the 1980s. But this, in general, is the minor issue with the film. Besides John, and one other character, most of the people shown here are caricatures, which only serve to show us either wholly positive or wholly negative reactions to the disorder. This makes the film wildly effective, but also lacking in a real supposed lived experience. Movies like these tend to take emotional shortcuts, and it can make an educated audience yearn for the shades of grey.

Luckily, as an adult, John is introduced to the mother of his friend, Chris. Dottie Achenbach (Maxine Peake) is nearly a literal angel, especially in comparison to the way he has been treated by his mother. As John is called in for a meal, his Tourettes (and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) symptoms begin to spike in his introduction to the Achenbach family. Through breaking mirrors, cursing, and destroying plates, she refuses to allow him to apologize, as it is not under his control. This is, of course, the platonic ideal of how to help someone with Tourettes, especially one who has been battered by the world. Aramayo and Peake have an immediate chemistry and this maternal replacement is all good nature and needed assistance. Aramayo truly shines in these moments, not just through his incredible physicality, but also his expressive eyes, deep pools that show us both the pain he has felt and the relief of having someone who accepts him, disorder and all.

She even connects him with a possible employment opportunity, something that John has always wanted, but long ago given up on. As he is introduced to Tommy Trotter (Peter Mullan) a caretaker for a local community center, I Swear becomes a much better movie than expected. Tommy is the first person in the film that is both understanding and has boundaries. There are things that he won’t accept, even if it is explained via a disorder. Aramayo and Mullan could have easily made an entire buddy comedy based on this portion of the story and no one would have tired of it. And throughout all of this back-and-forth, the humor of the film is unlocked. As Tommy quickly learns, both John’s physical movements and vocal tics can provide a soul of comedy.

I Swear sets itself apart from other films of its ilk by showing that one person alone cannot solve all of the problems of a disorder like this. More importantly, the film posits that the disorder is not the issue, but the lack of education. Aramayo is wonderful throughout, but really comes into his own when John Davidson begins to educate the public and bring in others with Tourettes so they can form a community. One can not only see the impact on others, but through his measured performance, there is a new lightness to John. This is not an easy thing to impart, but Aramayo makes it look so simple as to be natural. It is truly a masterclass in performance, without ever feeling like you can see him putting on said performance. Given the physicality he must engage in, it is impossible to overstate the level of difficulty involved.

I Swear has an extremely difficult task, given its attempts at being many types of film. And besides the use of all-or-nothing characterizations of the adults in John’s life, it manages all of them. I Swear is heartfelt, funny, educational, and entertaining. For the understanding of a difficult diagnosis, there is no better treatment than watching this film. I Swear is approachable, enjoyable, and buoys your spirits. If John Davidson can keep this positivity, then we, as a culture, owe him and others who struggle with Tourettes our best effort and understanding.

Grade: B+

Director: Kat Coiro
Writer: Ryan Engle, Kristin Engle
Stars: Regé-Jean Page, Halle Bailey, Marco Calvani

Synopsis: When a woman crashes at an empty Italian villa, posing as the owner’s fiancée, she discovers an unexpected romance that may transform her life.

When it comes to the genre of romantic comedies, there has always been a subsection of them targeted towards the African-American audience. Films like Love Jones, Love and Basketball, Think Like a Man, etc., provide audiences with examples of Black love and romance. Thus, providing representation in a genre that is white-skewing at best. In You, Me, and Tuscany, the latest rom com from producer Will Packer (the guy whose name has been all over the billboards) and his collaborators attempt to revive aspects of the subgenre. In both ways that it does and doesn’t work for the film and the representation at hand. 

In You, Me, and Tuscany, we follow Anna (Halle Bailey), a former aspiring chef, who is now working as a housesitter after a personal tragedy. After a really bad day in the office, Anna meets Matteo (Lorenzo de Moor), a wealthy real estate agent, who just so happens to be Italian. After a one-night stand (or an unsuccessful one), Anna is inspired to revisit her and her mother’s dream of going to Italy. However, once she gets there, due to a major holiday festival, she is unable to find a room. This leads her to devise a plan in which she pretends to be Matteo’s fiancée. All the while, Anna begins to fall for a winemaker named Michael (Regé-Jean Page), who just so happens to be Matteo’s adoptive brother/cousin. 

First off, the good, or the ways the film does work. Led by Bailey and Page, the cast delivers solid performances all around. Bailey is likable as Anna. Even in a predicament (that she somewhat caused herself), we still root for her. And that’s largely thanks to Bailey’s awe-inducing and innocent charm. As for Page, he makes Michael an interesting contrast. Whereas Bailey’s Anna is warm, friendly, and likable, Page’s Michael is the opposite, with Page playing the role cold, but still likable. When together, the two display solid chemistry. However, the standouts come from the supporting cast –  namely Aziza Scott as Claire, Anna’s best friend, Stella Percello as Francesca, Matteo’s sister, and Marco Calvani as Lorenzo, a cab driver that Anna befriends. All three, despite being supporting players, all manage to help separate this film from the others, especially in the humor department. Now, that’s not to say Bailey and Page aren’t humorous. But their comedy is a bit more understated than the others. As for other positives, the cinematography by Danny Ruhlmann was lush and clean, with Ruhlmann taking full advantage of the Tuscany countryside in some shots. 

Now, moving on to the negatives. Or rather, the ways the film doesn’t work. It should be noted that this reviewer isn’t the biggest romantic comedy fan. While there are some great ones like 1988’s When Harry Met Sally, most of them are a dime a dozen. Overall, it’s safe to say that the film is already starting at a disadvantage. When it comes to the script by Ryan Engle (who for context, is a white writer – more on that later) and Kat Coiro (also white)’s direction, Engle and Cairo make such a strict adherence to its conventions that there’s no room for innovation or even originality at times. Instead, it feels very surface-baked. Which is a shame, given the amount of emphasis regarding Black representation, primarily with Bailey, Page, and Packer being in front of the film’s marketing campaign. Had Engle and Coiro put in a little bit more originality, whether in the direction or the script department, we might have something truly unique on our hands as opposed to the same old. It doesn’t have to be awe-inspiring or fantastic, but it does have to expand beyond the genre its working in. To use an example, last year Sinners managed to bring in not just horror fans, but people who aren’t even into horror due to writer/director Ryan Coogler, taking in other inspirations and not just sticking to the original genre. In other words, to use a cooking term, a little bit more spice would have gone a long way. 

You, Me, and Tuscany is a bit of a mixed bag, in ways that are both in the movie’s favor and are not. As a piece of representation, the film is not as groundbreaking as it’s been pushed to be online, especially, once you start to factor in the inclusion of the behind-the-scenes talent beyond Packer. However, quality-wise, the film’s humor, supporting cast, and leads in Bailey and Page help it cross the finish line. Still, one has to wonder – maybe the basicness of You, Me, and Tuscany was the point? Most romantic comedies themselves aren’t anything unique. They’re just there. And maybe that’s what is needed. To just be there. Because even in a romantic comedy, we all want to be represented.

Grade: C+

Director: Tommy Wirkola
Writer: Tommy Wirkola
Stars: Phoebe Dyvenor, Djimon Hounsou, Costa D’Angelo

Synopsis: When a Category 5 hurricane decimates a coastal town, the storm surge brings devastation, chaos and something far more frightening: hungry sharks.

By their very design, shark movies are meant to be thrilling, edge-of-your seat terror fests. While most shark films try to be Jaws, others lean into the more campy elements, like Deep Blue Sea or The Meg. Tommy Wirkola’s Thrash lands in that dreaded in-between where everything is taken too seriously, while forgetting to contain any sort of thrills.

It shouldn’t be that hard to get the base elements of a shark film correct, but the film is all the wrong kinds of stupid. Instead of dumb fun, it’s all just dumb. The characters are never developed enough to actively root for their survival or even be invested in them as characters. Instead, an increasingly silly amount of plot mechanisms get in the character’s way to put them at risk and up the stakes, except the audience barely cares.

In an unnamed coastal city, Dale Edwards (Djimon Hounsou) researches sharks off the shores. With an impending hurricane headed towards land, Dale worries about his agoraphobic niece, Dakota (Whitney Peak), getting out before the storm hits. Meanwhile, the very pregnant Lisa Fields (Pheobe Dynevor) attempts to get out of town, but is stuck when the interstate closes. Elsewhere, three foster siblings Ron (Stacy Clausen), Dee (Alyla Browne), and Will Olsen (Dante Ubaldi) are forced by their negligent foster parent (Matt Nable) to ride the storm out in their home.

As the hurricane makes landfall, the town’s levies break, causing floodwaters to engulf the streets and homes. Dakota stays in her home, while Lisa becomes trapped in her car next to a ruptured meat truck. The resulting blood in the water attracts a number of bull sharks who begin killing the citizens as the water continues to rise.

For a film under 90 minutes, it feels incredibly rushed. The characterization of Lisa and Dakota should have a bit more time to flesh out in order to understand and empathize with their characters, but instead get a one-line toss off explanation of why they are each alone. Dakota’s agoraphobia, something that should be a dynamic aspect of the story, is barely explored other than for obvious plot mechanics. It doesn’t present agoraphobia like a disorder, it makes her seem like an idiot. Same goes for Lisa. They are stuck because of bad decisions, not anything out of their control.

The Olsen siblings stop the film dead each time they show up. It’s not that they are uninteresting, they just have no backstory. Why are they foster kids? Why is their stepdad so cartoonishly evil the whole time? We barely have time to know their names, we just know they are obviously Australian actors doing terrible American accents. In fact, nothing the Olsens do is in any way consequential to the plot of the rest of the film. They are just added characters with no purpose.

The film does have two or three moments of legitimate interest, but that’s in a film of dozens of attempted moments. There is one memorable shark kill among the group, while an attempt to fight back by the Olsens is presented with a bit of flair and style. Outside of that, you know exactly how the film is going to progress, what is going to happen when a character grabs a weapon, and how it will all play out. It’s immensely predictable to the point of boredom.

While watching actors of the caliber of Dynevor and Hounsou, I just kept hoping they received a nice paycheck for their efforts. They have nothing to cling on to as actors, leading the film to float in a listless purgatory. Clausen, Browne, and Ubaldi don’t do anything wrong (besides miss their accent work), but they are too purposeless to make an impact. Peak is in the same boat, attempting to lean into her anxiety, but the film isn’t interested enough in her to be memorable.

You can tell there was a lot of thought, effort, and money put into the giant water setpieces, but they all end up for nothing. Each character is consistently pelted with rain and usually up to their waist in water. Even those setpieces are unmemorable, leading to a boringly predictable conclusion that boggles the mind. Thrash is a pointless survival thriller devoid of tension or investment. If this was ever released on physical media, it would be doomed to the $5 bargain bin where it belongs.

Grade: D+

Director: Yasuhiro Aoki
Writer: Hanasaki Kino
Stars: Hiromi Kawatami, Kenta Miyake, Taro Nikuguso

Synopsis: In a world where humans and merpeople exist, Princess Chao gets engaged to human engineer Stephen. What will become of their romance?

As with Studio 4°C’s previous effort, All You Need is Kill, ChaO features some of the most staggering, creative animation you’re likely to see. It seems like a daunting task to visualize a credible animated world where humans and merpeople live together. However, director Yasuhiro Aoki understands the assignment all too well, pulling the audience into the story through his intricate animation. Every character – whether human or fish – has different proportions, the colors pop beyond the film’s diegesis, and the action sequences in the film’s back half are seriously unbelievable. 

The use of geographical space rivals the likes of James Cameron. You want to look at what’s happening in front of you, but are also attracted to what’s on the periphery of the frames. Every single image feels lived-in and textured; there’s real emotional depth in seeing how this world operates. It almost exists beyond our imagination, something that feels too good to even paint on film. There isn’t a scene in the movie that doesn’t stimulate our senses – it’s so creative that it almost puts every single mainstream animated offering to shame, Hoppers included (even with that apex predator set piece that only the creator of We Bare Bears could bring to life). 

How Aoki even highlights the human qualities of Princess Chao (Anna Yamada) before she becomes human after falling in love – and ultimately marrying – mechanical engineer Stephan (Ouji Suzuka), is also astonishing. He wants us to feel the emotions on the screen, which are always represented through painterly, moving shifts in how the protagonists appear. It’s profoundly affecting work, especially during flashbacks that provide audiences clarity of who Stephan was before he agreed to marry a shape-shifting mermaid that could potentially upend the relationship between both worlds.

But why is it so goddamned conventional? Worse yet, why is it so retrograde? Stephan isn’t initially in love with Chao, because she’s presented as a fish, and only begins to develop affection for her when he sees what she looks like as a human. Don’t get me started on all of the hypersexualized women with large breasts that populate this unwieldy city. It feels terribly uncomfortable watching a movie with such incredible animation that resorts to the lowest possible forms of female representation, where the character can only feel truly “free” if she’s in the hands of a man, while she also…learns how to cook? What year is this?!?

The story is also treated in such a matter-of-fact way that we never really develop any meaningful connections with anyone. It admirably tries to reinterpret the age-old narrative of The Little Mermaid, but ends up doing very little. We’ve seen this story before. It was treated with much less regression almost forty years ago when Disney adapted Hans Christian Andersen’s tale. A movie that’s this misogynistic in the year of our lord 2026 is unacceptable – full stop.

And it’s a shame, because Studio 4°C is a master of animation. They’re just terrible at literally everything else. All You Need is Kill had such incredible visuals, insane action, the likes of which we seldom see realized at this scale in anime. Yet the story was far worse than Doug Liman’s live-action adaptation of the material with Tom Cruise, which took many creative liberties. ChaO seems inspired by a core text, retains the household style we’ve come to know and love in the studio, and stages some impeccably mounted action in the latter half of the picture. Still, the story disappoints so greatly that one wouldn’t be wrong to dismiss this altogether. In fact, you should probably steer clear of it, which isn’t something I usually do in reviews, but I’ll make the rare exception for this one – and this one only.

Grade: C-

Directors: Alex Mallis, Travis Wood
Writers: Weston Auburn, Alex Mallis, and Travis Wood
Stars: Tristan Turner, Anthony Overbeck, Naomi Asa

Synopsis: A documentary filmmaker depends on his friend’s airline employee benefits for free flights. When the friend finds a girlfriend, he desperately tries to preserve his travel privileges.

Growing up, there was nothing better than having a friend who had access to something cool that I didn’t. A lake house, a boat, or even an in-home movie theater completely elevated that friendship and made it more important for me to keep than some others. Of course, this is not the way to approach friendships as a mature adult, but I was just a kid. The Travel Companion explores what happens when you use a friendship for its perks and obsess over the possibility of losing both the friend and the perks. 

The film follows Simon (Tristan Turner), a young filmmaker working an aimless video production job at a taxi advertising company, and his best friend and roommate, Bruce (Anthony Oberbeck), who works as a project manager for an airline, as their relationship is put to the test when Simon’s free flights as Bruce’s travel companion are put in jeopardy by the latter’s new girlfriend. Simon has been using these flights to obtain footage for his new film, which has the longest explanation for a movie that I’ve ever heard. He tries to describe it to other filmmakers and festival programmers several times, and it just gets more convoluted and confusing each time. He’s just as aimless making this film as he is at his dead-end job.

Simon and Bruce have a solid dynamic at the start of the film, doing all kinds of things together and not getting tired of each other. It’s clear from the jump that Bruce is more of a career man, having all his ducks in a row and keeping things together for both himself and Simon. Oberbeck’s performance highlights a level of self-awareness and empathy that allows their friendship to make sense. 

Turner’s turn as Simon is almost too good as the narcissistic, socially unaware friend who is holding on to dear life to the one thing that allows him a sense of freedom in his life. Once it becomes clear that Bruce’s girlfriend, Beatrice (Naomi Asa), is a contender for the travel companion perks next year, Simon finds a way to make every conversation with both of them about that decision and why he is more deserving of the spot. His lack of self-awareness and responsibility for himself is infuriating. The end of these perks, and potentially this friendship with the successful and stable Bruce, forces Simon to see a future where he has to fend for himself without much help. It’s hard to accept, and easy to relate to both parties in the relationship. 

The story is simple, but I found it incredibly profound and reflective of many friendships throughout my life. Screenwriters Weston Auburn, Alex Mallis, and Travis Wood are touching on very real experiences and how hard it is for some people to grow up, even into their early thirties. Simon uses his dream of becoming a filmmaker as an excuse to shirk his other responsibilities, rather than using his dream and passion for filmmaking to propel him forward in his career. He’s scared of failing, which makes him not try as hard. What happens if it doesn’t work? What will people think of me? He can’t get out of his own head and into the real world, where he has agency to make things happen for himself if he just applies his talents more effectively. 

The film’s use of a 4:3 aspect ratio heightens both the intimacy of our two main characters’ relationship as well as the anxiety that slowly builds in Simon throughout the movie. These tight shots and close-ups don’t leave a lot of room on the margins of the frame, leaving you feeling as trapped as Simon does. 

The Travel Companion starts to lose steam towards the end as Simon’s antics grow increasingly tiresome and desperate. Bruce’s patience wears thin, and so does the audience’s. Despite this slowdown towards the end, the movie is incredibly funny and speaks to relatable themes of friendship and being stuck in a place in life that you are both desperate and scared to get out of. Turner and Oberbeck are great in their roles, and they bring out the script’s heart brilliantly.

Grade: B