Director:Josef Gatti Writer: Josef Gatti, Joseph Nizeti Stars: Josef Gatti
Synopsis: A psychedelic odyssey into the fabric of the universe, guided by a filmmaker’s immersive practical experiments that transcend into a deeply hypnotic audio-visual experience of awe and human connection to the natural world.
There are films that one watches and realizes it is difficult to encompass an entire universe in a few simple words. It’s a case where “a picture is worth a thousand words” becomes a valid statement. But then, what’s the point of writing about images or motion pictures when sentences fail to convey the magic one watches on a screen? Those are the first thoughts that come to mind while watching director Josef Gatti’s psychedelic odyssey Phenomena, which is the weirdest documentary I have watched as of late.
How does one catch lightning in a bottle? To be fair, that’s easy nowadays, but the notion of recording the universe compressed in 10 chapters per session, one chapter per microuniversal process, is something that I haven’t heard of before. I am not saying Gatti (or Joe as he refers to himself) invented the wheel, but this is, for sure, a unique picture, unlike anything we’ve seen, not just lately, but probably at all.
It’s difficult to describe what Phenomena is about. One artist’s mad obsession with science, to the extent of falling madly in love with the universe and trying to capture it. Complex ideas like visualizing light and sound become the stage on which Joe showcases his talents as a filmmaker and a creative. The dream collab (creativity in science) is not just an education lesson but a true formula to conceptualize cinema as a visual language, especially in documentary filmmaking, rather than merely a vehicle for a topic or a subject matter as vast as space or as miniature as salt crystals.
Despite the subject matter hinting that it might be just another boring academic lecture, there is not a dull moment in this film. Joe is in love with the universe and wants this love to transcend to us. It’s his passion that makes this psychedelic trip superior to any other scientific-themed documentary. His creativity in showcasing the universe in its intricate details but also his subtlety in handling those natural phenomena. Without visual effects or artifice, Joe immerses himself in the world of scientific trials, acting as the orchestra of the film, with the mesmerizing cinematography and the narration complementing his visual journey to the bone. He seeks help from his father, hands-on in front of the camera, to help visualize procedures that seem impossible to put on camera. Without the help of the sound department, composer Nils Frahm’s compositions and Rival Console’s original scores blend multiple genres from electronica, classical, to ambient compositions.
Music creates a trance that envelops the visual magic and elevates the viewing. But at the end of the day, what key message is Joe trying to deliver with this visual feast? Our planet is beautiful, but it’s becoming more and more difficult to notice that in current circumstances. The world seems to get uglier by the day with wars, degradation of soil, deforestation, and loss of resources. But through films like this, people can hold on to nature for dear life.
It is almost impossible to rate Phenomena, because how can one rate mega concepts like light, sound, air, matter, and velocity? This is not a documentary one can discuss on film forums or have a chat about with their friends after a screening. This is something that a viewer enters a dark room to let it wash all over them, and they come out healed and energized, maybe a little bit in love with the world.
This movie belongs on the biggest screen possible. All this beauty deserves to be witnessed in silence, in a dark, air-conditioned room. Hopefully in the company of strangers.
Director:Alan J. Pakula Writer:Carl Bernstein, Robert Woodward, William Goldman Stars: Robert Redford, Dustin Hoffman, Jack Warden
Synopsis: “The Washington Post” reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein uncover the details of the Watergate scandal that leads to President Richard Nixon’s resignation.
In our current climate, the very idea of boots-on-the-ground journalism feels 300 years old. Print journalism in a time before cell phones, the internet, and the proliferation of information seems almost impossible. Unromantic long hours at obscure offices, disheveled clothing, ink-stained fingers, endless cups of coffee, and a truly shocking number of cigarettes. Who could possibly want to do this job?
“They’re hungry. Do you remember when you were hungry?” These words are spoken by Washington Post local news editor Harry M. Rosenfeld about reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, the two reporters who doggedly pursued corruption around the Watergate break-in and the presidency of Richard Nixon. These men aren’t half-invested. Their whole lives revolve around uncovering the truth and bringing that truth to light. It’s not glamorous, and it’s not easy, but it has to be done.
That pursuit is the subject of Alan J. Pakula’s All the President’s Men, currently celebrating its 50th anniversary. Woodward and Bernstein are portrayed by Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman, two bonafide actors and movie stars. But what they look like isn’t nearly as important as what they are doing. Whether it’s cold-calling potential sources, showing up at people’s doorsteps, or sorting through seemingly endless library reference cards, the work is more important than the man.
Not just the work, the importance of getting it right. The truth is the overarching theme of the film, living just below the surface, beating with the ever-increasing deadline of importance. But being right isn’t enough. It has to be undeniable. Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee (Jason Robards, in an Oscar-winning performance) relays the story of being given the correct information but still being made to look foolish. The truth doesn’t matter. What can you dictate to actually bring about impactful change?
With that in mind, Woodward and Bernstein begin to build the story from the micro to the macro. As soon as they believe they have something worthwhile, Bradlee chops their story to pieces for a lack of reliable sources, but tells them to keep going. Woodward makes contact with the mysterious “Deep Throat” (Hal Holbrook), who verifies information, but speaks in vague metaphors and refuses to give direct information. Each new reveal leads the pair to a new story with escalated visibility, but even more questions.
No moment of the 138 minutes is wasted. Each scene is like its own short film, connected with the desire for the truth, filled with detail, but with the emotional intelligence that the public isn’t stupid. In fact, you could pick out a dozen or so scenes and watch them as a snippet to understand the big picture. At one point, Bernstein meets with a bookkeeper (Oscar-nominated Jane Alexander) who reluctantly divulges information. Bernstein is forced to keep asking for more cups of coffee from the bookkeeper’s sister in order to keep her talking. It’s a fascinating scene of human behavior, but also of the tenacity of journalists. Later, Woodward convinces Bernstein to go back and meet with her again, just to verify one detail. It doesn’t matter how much information they get, it’s about the right information.
And even then, the characters wonder aloud why the powers at be would even do the things they are doing? When it all comes together, it makes sense, but it isn’t logical. There is a core American belief that the people in charge will do the right thing and have the best interest of the American public in mind. When that facade is broken, the American people have a right to know. This was one of the first investigations to uncover the levels of government corruption and duplicity.
50 years later, anyone who didn’t live through it can’t fully grasp the gravity and inescapability of words like Watergate, CREEP, E. Howard Hunt, or H.R. Haldeman. This was not some small investigation into a few bad apples. This was the first domino in a series of investigations that brought down President Nixon. With our current affairs the way they are, it seems unfathomable that a few proven lies could bring down a president.
With his recent death, Redford’s career has undergone a welcome reassessment. Despite having his undeniable looks and charisma, Woodward is not a character of charm and panache. Instead, he gets by on his tenacity, drive, and all-around effort. Redford doesn’t resort to any backstops of his looks, but embodies the spirit of Woodward, without doing a direct impression. On the flipside, Hoffman goes out of his way to be repellant. Bernstein smokes, annoys, interrupts, and yells whenever he feels he is in the right. The two couldn’t be more different, but they work together in the best possible way to get to the truth of the matter. Neither pulls focus, and that in and of itself is a feat for two movie stars of their caliber in 1976.
The rest of the cast is filled to the brim with character actors filling out their roles with life and color. Martin Balsam and Jack Warden feel like old-school newspapermen, while Ned Beatty shows up as a shady lawyer for one scene. Ironically, Stephen Collins might be the only honest person the pair interview. Robert Walden, F. Murray Abraham, Meredith Baxter, and Penny Fuller do a fine job in their small, but vital roles. Alexander also stands out in her one big scene, despite having little to do besides being frazzled.
Robards delivers every line with humor, guts, and integrity. Eternally with his feet up on a desk with a laid back demeanor, Bradlee is a character Robards fits like a glove. His experience is vital for Woodward and Bernstein to lean on, while also serving as a sage source of reliability when their work is criticized. In a long and storied career on screen, Robard’s performance here may well be his lasting legacy.
In a film completely devoid of sex or violence, the rhythm and pacing is impeccable. William Goldman’s Oscar-winning script sends both men on a mission of discovery while never waiting around. Gordon Willis’ pitch-perfect cinematography paired with Oscar-winning sound design either traps the audience in the overstimulated typewriter noise of the newsroom, or the paranoia of the outside world, accompanied by David Shire’s brooding score, edited together with a fine touch by the Oscar-nominated Robert L. Wolfe.
Pakula, consistently the most underrated director of his era, compliments his previous paranoia thrillers Klute and The Parallax View with this film. Smartly, the director never defaults to paranoia, but comes to it naturally over nearly two hours of hard hitting journalism. When it finally arrives, it feels warranted and earned. Outside of a number of perfectly positioned split diopter shots, Pakula doesn’t employ too many tricks. He knows what he has in Goldman’s script, and lets the narrative do the work.
All the President’s Men is a perfect film and the apex of film journalism. 50 years later, it hasn’t lost one ounce of impact, and may be growing more impactful by the day.
Director:Aneil Karia Writer:Michael Leslie, William Shakespeare Stars: Riz Ahmed, Morfydd Clark, Joe Alwyn
Synopsis:Hamlet comes home for his father’s funeral and finds his uncle Claudius marrying his widowed mother Gertrude. His father’s ghost reveals Claudius murdered him, leading Hamlet toward revenge and introspection.
“Hamlet” is a great work of fiction, this cannot be denied. Unless you want to be anti-Shakespeare. And in that case, I am not sure I wish to have a conversation with you. This is not to say that every credited work of his is unassailable, but the sheer number of creations that led to the way we speak and write is impressive by any measure. “Hamlet” is probably the closest thing to a perfect play, and has been performed countless times, in any number of settings. It can work just as well in Elizabethan, modern, or a fantastical realm.
So, it is no surprise that we have yet another adaptation releasing. Many actors have taken on this mantle, including Laurence Olivier, Kenneth Branagh, Ethan Hawke, Richard Burton, and Mel Gibson. In our latest adaptation, the inimitable Riz Ahmed fills the shoes of the Danish (although not in this version) prince. For those somehow unaware, the plot of Hamlet shows us our protagonist returning home to find that his father has died, and his mother is marrying his uncle. Understandably, this has an effect on him and he slowly becomes mentally unmoored trying to solve the mystery of this death (aided by his father’s apparition, claiming that he was murdered). This is, of course, simply a broad strokes detailing of the story, and many other important characters interject and cross our hero, such as he is. And frankly, this is the largest weakness of this version. That being said, the film has the distinct advantage of a new take on the setting and having Ahmed willing to play the lead role.
But first, let’s talk about where and when it takes place. Choosing a modern, South Asian community in London is, frankly, a masterstroke. It allows a distinct perspective, both one of financial privilege and that of an outsider, power within an outsider subculture. Additionally, it provides a mixture of language and cultural style that keeps the audience fully engaged, even if Shakespeare is difficult for you. The (sometimes parallel) conversations occurring in Hindi and English provide a commentary on this particular family and South Asian families in the UK, generally. The scene between Hamlet and his father’s ghost is particularly effective, making plot machinations clear only to the lead character and the audience. Plus, there are sequences of celebration and dance which hammer home the cultural differences, while also proving that Hamlet can be set in any time and any place. The classic nature and the familial drama inherent in this story has no limits and, in fact, expands when the setting is altered. This celebration sequence, along with the play-within-a-play is beautifully filmed and framed by director Aneil Karea and cinematographer Stuart Bentley. As a note, the costumes, designed by Nirage Mirage, are impeccable and worth the film lingering on. These moments offer a vision of the greatness that could have been.
Luckily, there is almost no world in which a version of Hamlet starring Riz Ahmed could be a bad movie. Ahmed has the perfect countenance and style for Hamlet, given that he is convincing as a grief-stricken, brooding son or as a man whose sanity is questionable as he unleashes his emotion on everyone around him. Unfortunately, given the massive cuts to the original text (while keeping the style of the original language) by writer Michael Lesslie, all of the other characters are given short shrift. While it is understandable to want this to be the The Riz Ahmed Show, Hamlet is not simply about the main character. This leaves a number of talented actors, especially Morfyyd Clark (as Ophelia) and Joe Alwyn (as Laertes) to be wildly undeveloped and with upsettingly rushed arcs. These arcs do come to a kind of fruition, but the last half of the film seems to be mostly spinning its wheels due to the changed structure of the film.
Sadly, the only moment from Ahmed that doesn’t land is the all-important “To be or not to be” speech. While the choice to have that scene take place in a vehicle is understandable within the context of this film, robbing the audience of Ahmed delivering that speech with a still camera feels almost criminal. This brings back (bad) memories of watching the back of Ethan Hawke’s head as he gives this same soliloquy in an earlier film version of the play.
Hamlet (2025) is a tremendous idea that never fully reaches the level that it should. With more of Shakespeare’s language, a full arc from the ancillary characters, and a little more trust in the audience, this could have been one of the best adaptations of a great work of art. As it is, the film is worth watching for Riz Ahmed’s stunning performance and a twist in the setting. Aneil Karea manages to modernize Shakespeare and utilize one of the very best actors working, if only there was a bit of a wider scope to include everyone else.
Synopsis:A woman, employed as a website content moderator, comes across a series of violent videos reproducing death scenes from a film.
We live in a film world where, frankly, reimaginings, remakes, and revamps of previously dormant IP have been the least interesting they’ve ever been. There’s the occasional new spin on an idea that needs updating or wasn’t very enticing in the first place, but most cases involve the common quick cash grab or something so unnecessary to be toiled with in the modern age that it would leave countless baffled. This knowledge makes Daniel Goldhaber’s Faces of Death inherently fascinating from concept alone; the original 1978 film was maligned for its brutality, getting banned in multiple countries and criticized for its lack of any real depth behind its gruesome imagery, and being seen as more harmful than anything else. Goldhaber and his co-writer, Isa Mazzei, put their own brilliant spin on the original’s reputation, updating its themes to our modern era of technology, where these horrifying images that were once shocking are now desensitized into our minds through nearly every corner of the internet. It makes for a meta remake, adding further depth to the hook of its concept while never sacrificing any gory ferocity or thrilling setpieces, making for one of the most unique horror remakes to release as of late.
The film follows Margot Romero (Barbie Ferreira), a content moderator for the TikTok-like website Kino, where she parses through short-form videos every day, approving or flagging content. Margot is an extremely isolated person, with her very limited social interactions being with her roommate, Ryan (Aaron Holliday). Part of the reason for this isolation is Margot’s own viral gone wrong moment she had on the internet, leading to the loss of her sister, which is why she sees moderation as a means to protect people. Her work continues as normal until she comes across a particularly violent set of videos, seemingly recreating the gruesome deaths from the infamous film Faces of Death.
Margot is unsure whether they’re real or fake, but when she questions her boss (Jermaine Fowler) and fellow employees on the matter, no one seems to care about anything but keeping the trend going. Margot soon decides to take matters into her own hands, researching the situation to uncover if what she’s seeing truly is real, but when the creator of the videos, Arthur (Dacre Montgomery), begins to discover Margot’s investigation, he starts setting in motion for her to be a part of the madness, all for the sake in his words of “giving the people what they want.”
From the premise alone, Faces of Death is already metatextual in its commentary, with the original film existing as a piece of VHS memorabilia in this film’s universe. There’s a point in the film where Ryan is explaining the film to Margot and describes it as “the original viral video” of sorts, and this idea punctuates the entire messaging of Goldhaber’s reinterpretation. The tackling of technology paranoia has been explored plenty of times (most prominently recently in 2023’s Red Rooms), but Faces of Death brings the idea of our cultural desensitization to horrific imagery to the forefront, questioning the relationship to awful content being left to breed and the ultra corporations that refuse to do anything about their existence but continue to chase its popularity. Goldhaber’s Cam also revolved around a similar type of social media paranoia revolving around losing oneself to the vast arrays of media, and the way this film engages with our relationship to dangerous violence in our everyday modern media consumption (vs the past with the original film) is incredibly effective. It’s to the point where it almost feels like there’s even more to delve into here that is left more vague, but it remains chilling nonetheless.
Even with so much theming between the lines of the film’s plotting and regular horror tropes, Goldhaber also showcases his extremely well-equipped skills behind the camera to craft tense and thrilling set pieces. Everything in the presentation here is so slickly effortless, the quick editing between splitscreen screenlife sequences of Margot researching her way through the darkest depths of the web, the presence of multiple handheld and tracking shots to make perfect use of holding your breath through every scene, and an immersive thumping synth score from Goldhaber’s frequent composer, Gavin Brivik. All these elements stand out most through a killer one-take in the movie’s back half, making perfect use of all the film’s best technical qualities, which are only further bolstered by a chilling antagonist performance from Dacre Montgomery, who sees implementing Margot into his videos as his crowning achievement, considering her reputation.
Simply put, however, this movie would not be remotely believable without Ferreira as the lead here, firmly cementing herself as a standout scream queen within recent genre fare. As the final girl to a content creator serial killer, she goes through a wide array of horror conventions that may be eyerolly or predictable to some, but she’s so committed to every moment of terror and bloody brutality that nothing ever falters. Most importantly, however, is that her struggle as the central character and why she’s committed to solving this mystery when no one could be bothered is enough to root for her to finally be seen as right amongst her peers and the internet that has mocked her for so long.
It’s rare to find the film remake or reimagining that isn’t just an evolution of the original’s material, but redefines it through the modern lens of today’s culture, and Faces of Death is that rare successful venture acting as delve into the desensitized nature of our modern relationship with violence in our social media, without missing a beat on providing thrilling sequences and killer gore to boot. With Barbie Ferreira’s excellent final girl stint as the glue holding it all together, Faces of Death will stand as one of the more intriguing horror revampings of older IP in recent times.
Synopsis: An intimate portrait of cyclist Moriah Wilson, raised by a fierce, loving family, whose singular drive propelled her to athletic brilliance before her life was tragically cut short by murder.
True crime documentaries have a familiar rhythm that includes crime, investigation, and resolution, all neatly packaged for consumption. That’s mostly likely why they’re so popular amongst audiences. The Truth and Tragedy of Moriah Wilson, is Netflix’s deeply affecting portrait of the young cyclist whose murder shocked the sporting world in 2022. This is not a documentary driven by twists or revelations. Instead, it’s a study in the absence of a life interrupted, and the effects that follow. The documentary is one hour and thirty-seven minutes long, which makes it a nice, well-rounded piece of film. A perfect binge for true-crime fans.
At its center is Moriah “Mo” Wilson, a rising star in competitive cycling whose discipline and focus are framed by a fiercely supportive upbringing. The film spends its early moments carefully constructing her world: family home videos, recollections from loved ones, glimpses of her training and achievements. It’s a deliberate choice, and an effective one. By the time the narrative turns toward tragedy, you’ll feel like you know Mo, and that makes what happened to her even more heart-wrenching.
The case itself, her murder and the subsequent manhunt that captured national attention in May 2022, is handled respectfully and carefully. The filmmakers shift the focus to those left behind: her family, friends, and the wider community trying to process an unthinkable loss. This emphasis on perspective is where the documentary finds its strength. Her parents speak with a mixture of pride and devastation, grappling with the dual reality of celebrating her life while mourning its abrupt end. Friends recall small, specific moments that might seem insignificant in isolation but, collectively, form a portrait of a happy, clever, and determined girl.
The film’s pacing unfolds the story slowly, allowing space for reflection rather than pushing relentlessly toward the trial’s outcome. There are no flashy reconstructions or stylistic flourishes designed to heighten drama. The documentary is layered with home videos throughout Mo’s life, complemented by intimate interviews with her close loved ones and people who worked on her case. There are also so many photos of her winning medals and making a life for herself. All of this creates moments of unexpected lightness, stories that prompt smiles as much as tears, reminders that Mo’s life cannot be defined solely by its ending. These glimpses of joy are crucial, preventing the film from becoming overwhelmingly heavy and underscoring its commitment to balance.
That said, The Truth and Tragedy of Moriah Wilson is not without its limitations. Viewers expecting a detailed investigative breakdown may find the film’s focus frustratingly narrow. The mechanics of the case, while present, are not explored in depth, and the broader cultural context surrounding the crime is only lightly touched upon. The documentary is less interested in the “why” of the crime than in the “what now” of its aftermath. However, there is an exciting cat-and-mouse chase when the suspected killer is on the run, and the police and FBI must track them down.
Ultimately, The Truth and Tragedy of Moriah Wilson is a quiet, compassionate piece of filmmaking. It doesn’t seek to shock or to solve, but to honor and to understand. In doing so, it offers something rare within the true crime genre: a space not for speculation, but for empathy. When the legal proceedings do come into focus, justice, the film suggests, is not a clean resolution but a complicated, often unsatisfying attempt at closure. And in that space, Mo’s life continues to resonate through those who refuse to let it be reduced to a headline.
Director: Alice Maio Mackay Writers: Alice Maio Mackay, Benjamin Pahl Robinson Stars: Alexandra McVicker, Scott Major, Charlotte Chimes
Synopsis: After escaping her transphobic hometown, Anna meets goth tattoo artist Gen. They bond over shared supernatural abilities, but Gen’s tattoo work accidentally conjures a demon before their romance can bloom.
As a cisgender woman, I’ll never fully understand the hardships trans women go through. It’s hard enough living in a patriarchal world as a femme-presenting woman, and when transphobia enters the equation, trans folks face obstacles that increase in severity exponentially. The Serpent’s Skin is Alice Maio Mackay’s sixth feature film, which opens viewers’ eyes to see the world through a trans woman’s perspective. It is an exciting fairytale-like love story with a witchy edge.
Mackay tells us this transgender film, as indicated by the film’s opening credits, through Anna (Alexandra McVicker), who just embarks on a journey for herself to get out of a transphobic town where she lives with her non-accepting parents. It’s a sad reality that many trans people face, and a realization for those not in their shoes that even places marginalized people inhabit, like their childhood home, don’t feel safe. Anna goes to live with her sister Dakota (Charlotte Chimes), but as accepting as her sister is, rent has to be paid, and Anna begins her job search.
Finding a job is nerve-wracking enough, let alone when you just move to a new city. Add in the stress of trying to find friends to make it easier to transition into social spaces; needless to say, Anna finds more than what she imagined she would. In a steamy hook-up with the neighborhood hunk Danny (Jordan Dulieu), Anna begins to have visions of a dark-haired woman that doesn’t feel like a stranger. The Serpent’s Skin doesn’t shy away from the intimate scenes and shows a healthy sex life of a young woman enjoying life as her true self.
Anna has a somewhat chaotic life, attracting increasingly strange and unusual situations. Like when she lands a job at a music store, in fact, it’s the first place she even inquires about a job, getting an on-the-spot training session to see how it goes. She’s a natural and has a kind, welcoming personality. Making it much more upsetting when she finds herself in danger during a shift, being assaulted during a robbery, leaving a gash from hitting her head.
But once again, she sees visions of a mysterious dark-haired woman, this time giving her the courage to stand up and face the robber, making him leave with his tail between his legs. When Anna eventually meets face-to-face with the woman she’s been having thoughts of, she introduces herself as Gen (Avalon Fast). Their connection and physical attraction toward one another are felt instantly, and it’s easily The Serpent’s Skin‘s most heartwarming aspect: two people who feel made for one another. Gen is a tattoo artist who essentially tells Anna that they are connected because they are both as close to witches as one can be.
Their love story is incredibly well done, and I felt myself swooning at both of these women falling for one another. Through the many lessons that Gen gives Anna involving their powers, they look out for those around them from being hurt. Though Anna is more reckless with her newfound powers, she takes scaring off bad guys too far. When a monster spawns in their town, seemingly an outcome of the witches’ powers, they figure out how to save their dearest loved ones.
The Serpent’s Skin has such an exciting screenplay from Mackay and fellow writer Benjamin Pahl Robinson. It’s refreshing to see a romantic relationship that shows love through a trans lens. Firstly, it’s an intoxicating romance between two women, especially through Mackay’s vision. Secondly, Anna is a sexually active person and has her fair share of sexual encounters. But there’s a real dedication to representing how trans women have to face sex in different ways than cis women, and it’s something that is rarely explored in film. Altering their partner beforehand to inform them that they are a trans woman, and breathing a sigh of relief when they are met with overwhelming acceptance.
There’s a nostalgic essence to The Serpent’s Skin, like it’s a film that was thought to be lost in the ‘90s and resurfaced all these years later. From the pink glow of Gen and Anna’s eyes when their powers are being used, to the design of the monster they awaken. And if you’ve seen any of Mackay’s other films such as T Blockers or Satanic Panic, then you’ll know that there’s a unique haze to her films that makes the use of bright neon lights pop that much more. It’s a joy to watch a filmmaker with such a unique vision be able to bring it to life with such confidence.
Admittedly, this is the first performance of McVicker I’ve seen, but her work as Anna is addictive to watch. She makes Anna such a lovable and approachable character, one that, at the end of the day, is just looking for a connection. It helps that McVicker herself is trans, making her character that much more captivating to watch. Her shared moments with Fast are some of the film’s best work, and Fast really knows how to lay on the charm, making their love feel intense and worthy of fighting for when need be.
Mackay’s films are some of the most unique I’ve had the pleasure of watching; the visual allure of them is reminiscent of the cover of a Goosebumps novel. The Serpent’s Skin has a timeless aspect to it, maybe because it’s a trans story that we’ve heartbreakingly heard from someone we know. Or the love-at-first-sight romance we’ve all been through. Making it an instant trans classic that not only is yearningly romantic but a riot with its use of witchy magic.
This week on Women InSession, we discuss Halina Reijn’s erotic thriller Babygirl and why it’s such a captivating depiction of sex and womanhood! Reijn has openly talked about how the film is meant to explore the gap between men and women sexually, and breaking the stigma’s that are often associated kinks and specific desires. It goes without saying, but we had the best time with this one.
Panel: Megan Kearns, Jaylan Salah, Amy Thomasson
On that note, check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!
ComMANNdment #8: Thou Shall Explore “Good vs Evil”
Yes – the battle of “Good vs Evil” is at the heart of most storytelling because we want our protagonist to triumph over the antagonist. It is not a shocker that Michael Mann leans into this mode of storytelling, especially given how many of his films revolve around crime, war, and/or the legal system. However, Mann does not rest easy with these broad parameters in his filmmaking and often the ideas of “Good” and “Evil” are blurred and blend together.
Mann blending criminal activity with law enforcement sworn to protect and serve starts with his first theatrical feature film, Thief. Here we have three separate groups: Frank’s crew, Leo’s organization, and the Chicago PD. At a surface level, the separation of these units may be obvious: Frank and his team are crooks and therefore inherently bad; they go to work for Leo (whom we come to find out is incredibly diabolical) and now all of our evil is lumped together; and this leaves us with the Chicago detectives that are only motivated by doing right and keeping the city clean of crime. Except that most of what I just wrote is untrue: the police are just as corrupt as Frank and Leo. The disparity between good and evil is almost non-existent. It doesn’t matter that Frank has a code (no home break-ins, no cowboy jobs), “Good vs Evil” here (and in most Mann films) are two sides of the same coin.
Similarly to Thief, The Keep also plays with the many sides of “Good vs Evil.” As the movie begins, we are initially set up with the soldiers as bad and the villagers as good. But as the movie progresses, we realize that the Russian soldiers are being ordered by higherups of the SS. By no means does this excuse their actions, but this lets us know that they are being controlled. The issues of concentration camps come up and “Good vs Evil” continues to be explored, but we see that a good person like Dr. Cuza can be led into the realm of evil once he is manipulated by Molasar. And it is the Molasar/Glaeken relationship that really puts the “Good vs Evil” theme into prominence: Molasar wanting to destroy everything and Glaeken doing everything possible to put Molasar back into the depths of the keep.
Let’s start with the overt “Good vs Evil” examples in Manhunter: Graham vs Dolarhyde & Lecktor. Lecktor has been imprisoned already for his evil deeds (of which in this film we only glean so much information) and Dolarhyde is targeting families and killing for no other reason than for them to be witnesses to his great transformation. Graham is our hero in this journey: the man who has stopped one killer and has been reluctantly brought back in to do it again. We know this story and we know how reliable it is at keeping us enraptured. However, there are varying degrees of evil and it is worth bringing up the characters Freddie Lounds and Jack Crawford. Freddie is a parasite whose gains only arrive at the suffering of others – true terrible tabloid tactics on display. When Freddie meets his demise, it’s the first death in the movie we don’t overtly mourn: Freddie has been as asshole or advantageous in all the wrong ways. But it is also worth mentioning Crawford here. Is he trying to stop the next family from being murdered before the next full moon? He sure is. Does he go to Will, who has seemingly retired, because he knows that Will cannot say no to trying to save the next family? YES – and Crawford even exclaims later in the movie that he would do it again. One of the world’s necessary evils is putting people into uncomfortable situations for them to give you the answer that you believe is right. While Crawford may not have any malicious intent in going to Graham for help, he nevertheless knows exactly what he is asking of him despite Graham’s post-traumatic stress.
On the battlefield, lines are often blurred between “Good vs Evil” or right and wrong. For the characters living in the world of The Last of the Mohicans and for those living through the French-Indian War, “Good vs Evil” was all a matter of perspective. With the framing device as set by Michael Mann, the only real good side that we can see is our last Mohicans: Uncas, Chingachgook, and Nathaniel. We see people shift and support these three as the movie goes on: the initial settlers that our Mohicans break bread with that first night, Cora & Alice, and even Duncan to a degree given his final sacrifice to set Cora free. If we think about these people as good or tangentially related to good, then our evil side would be both the French and the Huron tribe with hyperfocus given to one of the greatest villains set to screen: Magua. Two things to mention here: 1) Magua’s villainy, and 2) if is he evil. Speaking to playing a villain, what all actors who play villainous characters want is the REASON: why does my character think and feel the way they do? Too many times villains have weak objectives or motivations fueled purely by monetary gains…but not Magua. What Magua wants is not only the satisfaction of killing Colonel Munro as revenge for the death of his children, but he wants to kill Cora and Alice and wipe Munro’s seed off of the earth forever. Now, that all sounds evil…UNLESS you see it from Magua’s perspective, in which case the evil lies within the British forces. So, what we have here is an issue of optics – an issue that makes the “Good vs Evil” argument even more enthralling in this picture.
Neil and Vincent are flipsides of the same coin – this we know. “Good vs Evil” in this relationship is really a matter of perspective. Should Neil and his crew be robbing and killing people? No – but they seem to have fairly decent family lives (maybe no Chris and Charlene, but they have their moments). We know Vincent is not a great husband, but does that make him evil? Of course not. No, for the film Heat, true evil lies in the actions of Waingro. Early on, his choices and character decisions make sense: shooting the armored car guard was motivated only from an urge to kill. It could be argued that Waingro becomes so evil that he should have been given a handlebar mustache and villainous laugh: making him a serial rapist/murderer is awful, but adding the swastika on his chest – do we need that? Regardless of your answer, it is clear that evil only exists through Waingro, whose death is the only one that makes me do a mini fist pump every time I watch the film.
The Insider may be the best example Mann has of “Good vs Evil” as it pertains to the stoic and proud individual standing up to big business. The structure of our story gives us two examples of this and both only exist to bolster the other. We clearly start with Wigand: a man within big tobacco fired for disagreeing with the way decisions were being made. When Brown & Williamson get the scent that he may be breaking his confidentiality agreement, they relentlessly go after him. They start to follow him, stalk him from one house to the next, and ultimately issue death threats both explicitly and implicitly with the bullet in the mailbox. When these scare tactics don’t work and Wigand decides to do the interview with Mike Wallace, big tobacco immediately begin the smear campaign to discredit Wigand. So we have example one: Wigand vs Big Tobacco. In trying to tell Wigand’s story, Lowell gets presented with the term “tortious interference” by Helen Caperelli (Gina Gershon), a term that states CBS Corporate could be held liable for damages because they convinced Wigand to talk. This infuriates Bergman, but ultimately he is abandoned by his CBS News cohorts to fight this battle on his own, thus brining us example two – Bergman vs CBS. What makes this “Good vs Evil” example different is that Bergman can take more active steps to combat the situation: discrediting what is being dug up about Wigand, exposing the truth about what happened in a private meeting, and never giving up on Wigand. Jeffrey is not as lucky and most of the time he is reacting to what is happening to him. Our two stories of “Good vs Evil” here work tremendously well together for storytelling purposes and proves that sometimes fighting the good fight means going at it alone.
Now is a good time to note that the subtitle to this ComMANNdment revolves around corruption and greed, which can be seen all over the film Ali. Corruption can be seen prominently in the subplot revolving around Malcolm X, Ali, and the world of Islam. Malcolm is seen as a Black radical and is currently being followed by the FBI. We are presented with a tough equation: how can an agency meant to protect the interests of America through stones at a man for speaking out using his 1st Amendment rights? A corrupt government wanting to only have certain religious beliefs said by people who are white is on display. If we focus on the main story, Ali is being taken advantage of constantly and is not always fully aware of it. His managers and contacts within the Nation of Islam only are supportive of him when he is winning, but once he refuses induction for military service, the Islamic leaders turn their back on Ali. Not unlike both Wigand and Bergman in The Insider, Ali becomes a man with a mission to restore his name and earn back the championship that he feels like truly belongs to him.
Max and Vincent in Collateral don’t just represent “Good vs Evil” in very literal terms, but also that they have the capacity for emotion and empathy. With Max, we meet a person who seems entirely genuine and open to human connection. As a cabbie for 12 years, Max has clearly learned when to engage with his customers and when to stay silent. Max has a real depth for understanding body language and tonal shifts, almost acting as a therapist in the front seat. Vincent, on the other hand, either does not know how to show emotions, does not know what emotions are, or only has the gears of rage and determination. The pure villainy that Cruise brings to Vincent is what sets up this dichotomy between our two leads. Max, who may be motivated but lives purely in his daydreams, is upended when this unstoppable force enters his cab. He is confronted with a worldview that is so foreign to him: at one point Vincent brings up the genocide in Rwanda and how Max most likely didn’t have a strong reaction to it, but when Vincent “offs one fat Angeleno” Max throws “a hissy fit.” We find ourselves with true representatives of “Good vs Evil,” but the good in Max is only brought to the forefront because of the intense evil of Vincent. Max can’t grow until Vincent enters his cab.
When we think of the police or government agencies, we assume these are people who want to wholly uphold the law and protect the innocent from the evil that lurks around the corner. As we have come to discover in Mann’s cinematic universe, people are fallible and greed can seduce even the most pure-hearted amongst us. Miami Vice shows that there are varying degrees of evil: just when we think Jose Yero (John Ortiz) is the big bad in the film, we meet Luis Tosar as Montoya and we understand the depths of the evil on display. What essentially launches the film is that the FBI unit run by Ciaran Hinds’ character was ratted out – this is how our Miami squad gets involved. And it is this level of distrust built up in other agencies that leads to the plan to use different days of the week regarding shipments to figure out just what agency is leaking information. But Miami Vice also gets us to look at the people who may be considered less evil; characters whose backstories are a bit tragic and are only doing what they’re doing to make a living. Isabella is really set forward as a character who can be redeemed because she only works with finances and numbers, but it becomes clear that she works directly with Montoya and is not innocent at all. Her beauty and brilliance really messes with Sonny to the point that one of our essential good guys has been compromised because he has gone too far with her. The “Good vs Evil” lines in this film are blurry at best, and I truly appreciate that about the film because that’s how life is. Borders are hard to define and the good and the bad in Miami Vice are the same way.
Mann revisits the thematic makeup of characters from Thief in Public Enemies. With the former, James Caan plays a career burglar with a code about what scores he takes down and a clear path forward with his life. In the latter, John Dillinger robs banks without taking the money of patrons and hopes for a future somewhere far away with Billie. Taking in the rest of Mann’s filmography, it is easy to see that he is interested in criminals with hearts and moral compasses. Mann also knows that what every character like this needs is someone chasing them: the law. With Public Enemies, we are presented with Melvin Purvis – a man who is trying his utmost to bring the burgeoning FBI into mainstream prominence and respect. Purvis also has a code and is a respectable and formidable foe for Dillinger to face off against. But because the world isn’t just black & white, the range of “Good vs Evil” get blurred. Purvis has a young officer on his crew, Agent Harold Reinecke, who both physically and psychologically tortures Billie until Purvis can intervene. Dillinger does a score with Babyface Nelson, a man with no code that he cannot stand. “Good vs Evil” have many shapes and sizes, but when put into a corner those with seemingly “good” qualities may inadvertently seek help from those who are bad.
Considering that so many of Mann’s films deal with criminal activity, it is interesting that this is the first time I am bringing up the concept that “money is the root of all evil.” Within Blackhat, think about how many terrible events happen because some Aussie wanted money: the stock exchange was manipulated causing those affected by soy markets to live in fear and chaos, a nuclear plant exploded killing dozens and injuring more, and a shootout occurred during a peaceful night in Jakarta. Money drives people to do the worst things, but Blackhat succeeds at making it more complicated with the anonymity of the internet. How do we catch criminals we cannot see? How do we understand motives when demands are only given via messages? Evil lurks around every corner and the world wide web is full of them. When Hathaway meets evil face to face, we almost fear it less because now we know who we are dealing with. When our enemies hide in the shadows and our imagination is all we have, that’s when evil feels the scariest.
“Good vs Evil” can lie within one person – we all possess the emotions and thoughts to be wonderfully nice and terribly malicious. Enzo Ferrari is a complex character/person, and in this film we find him at a complicated period in his life. And whether you find the following examples I give as “Good vs Evil” or not, it is worth noting that Enzo’s actions and reactions prove the complicated nature of the human mind. As I don’t want to step too much on ComMANNdment #9, I will be brief here. The script plants an expected payoff early in the film: Piero really wants his father to get De Portago’s autograph. So much of the film goes by that as an audience we start to feel like Enzo is not going to do it. It’s just an autograph, it’s not that important, maybe he can meet him in the future: these are all possible thoughts that could have been going through Enzo’s mind. However, right before the Mille Miglia and right before the last moment he could have asked, Enzo pulls through and gets the autograph. HOORAY!!!! A noble ACTION done for his son, but Enzo also has a rather heartless REACTION. When Castelotti is trying to take the track record back, his wife is also there. After Castelotti’s accident, his wife goes running towards him and an ambulance drives onto the track, but Ferrari barely does anything. He turns his head to the side and utters to De Portago “Call my office on Monday.” And that’s it – Enzo does not mourn or seem sad. He asks Laura to send a check to Castelotti’s widow, but out of formality only and without any empathy. Enzo Ferrari contains multitudes, as do we all, but this film really expresses just how easily it is to go from good to evil and back and forth.
Director: Howard J. Ford Writers: Howard J. Ford Stars: John Rhys-Davies, Sarah Alexandra Marks, Louis James
Synopsis: Six young friends investigate missing persons cases in a remote cave system, unaware they’re being stalked by an ancient creature lurking in the depths
There’s a certain comfort in a well-worn horror setup: a remote location, a half-forgotten legend, and a group of curious souls walking straight into danger. Bone Keeper, written and directed by Howard J. Ford, delivers a creature feature that leans heavily on atmosphere, folklore, and the creeping dread of the unseen.
The film opens with an intriguing hook. A cosmic fireball crashes into a dense woodland, awakening something ancient, or perhaps something newly arrived. The prologue then jumps to 1976, where a young ambitious adventurer (Wheeler) ventures into a cave in search of answers, only to vanish without a trace. All that remains is a fragment of Super 8 footage: a fleeting, grainy silhouette that sets the tone for everything that follows. It’s a strong beginning, tapping into the classic phrase curiosity killed the cat.
Decades later, Wheeler’s granddaughter Olivia leads a small group of explorers back into those same caves, in a search and rescue, determined to uncover the truth behind the so-called “Bone Keeper.” From here, Bone Keeper shifts into more familiar territory, part found-footage homage, part survival-horror, as the group descends deeper underground and, inevitably, into danger.
Sarah Alexandra Marks anchors the film as the emotionally invested lead, bringing a sense of personal stakes that elevates the narrative beyond a simple monster hunt. Her performance is grounded and believable, particularly as the film leans into the psychological toll of isolation and fear. Her character is overshadowed, she needed a true standout emotional moment, and unfortunately that didn’t happen. There is a very dramatic, weird moment toward the end which Marks plays very convincingly.
Around her, the ensemble, including Louis James and Tiffany Hannam-Daniels, serves their roles effectively, even if their characters occasionally fall into familiar genre archetypes. James’ character is one we’ve seen him play before in Howard J Ford films, a rude, sarcastic guy you dislike, who then redeems himself with a heroic end. It’s repetitive but he does it so well.
John Rhys-Davies presence lends the film a touch of gravitas. While his role is more peripheral than some might expect, his involvement adds a layer of credibility. He’s a great addition whose character’s motives will keep you guessing.
Where Bone Keeper truly excels is in its use of setting. The caves are oppressive, labyrinthine, and convincingly disorienting. The sense of claustrophobia is one of horror’s most reliable tools, and this film uses it well. Filmed in Wales, the cold weather and misty mountains bring the film to life.
The creature itself, kept largely in shadow, is another strength. The glimpses we do get are fleeting and unsettling, leaving enough to the imagination to maintain a sense of mystery. The mythology surrounding the “Bone Keeper” is sketched rather than fully explained, which works in the film’s favor, even if it may leave some viewers wanting more strong visuals and jumpscares.
That said, the film isn’t without its shortcomings. Pacing is an issue, it’s quite a slow burner of a beginning and in the middle act the narrative occasionally stalls as characters wander, argue, and repeat information the audience has already grasped. There’s also a slight imbalance between concept and character. While the premise is strong, the script doesn’t always dig deeply enough into the relationships within the group, which can make some of the later emotional beats feel less impactful than intended. In a story where survival is key, investment in the characters is crucial, and here, it’s just a shade underdeveloped.
With a strong final act and creepy ending, Bone Keeper is an engaging addition to the indie horror landscape. Its World Premiere at FrightFest Glasgow feels like a natural fit, as the film embodies the festival’s spirit: bold ideas, atmospheric execution, and a clear love for the genre. Bone Keeper leaves you with that familiar, lingering unease; the sense that some places are better left unexplored, and some legends exist for a reason. The film is a must-watch for indie horror fans.
On this episode of Chasing the Gold, Shadan is joined by Sari Cohen to discuss this year’s SXSW Film Festival and the movies that stood out to us the most! There were some great docs, some memorable horror films and a few notable films that could make its way into awards season by year’s end.
Check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!
Director:James McAvoy Writers:Gavin Bain, Billy Boyd, Elaine Gracey Stars: James McAvoy, Amber Anderson, James Corden
Synopsis: Two Scottish lads from Dundee conned the music industry by pretending to be an established Californian rap duo, bagging a record deal and appearing on MTV until their scam unraveled..
If the music industry has always thrived on image, California Schemin’ asks a deliciously uncomfortable question: what happens when the image is entirely fabricated? Directed by James McAvoy, this stranger-than-fiction story follows two working-class lads from Dundee who successfully convinced the industry they were a Californian rap duo, long enough to land a record deal and even appear on MTV, before the illusion inevitably cracked.
It’s a premise that sounds almost too outrageous to be true, and yet that improbability becomes the film’s greatest strength. From the outset, California Schemin’ leans into the absurdity of its central con. Two young men, armed with little more than ambition, nerve, and a carefully constructed persona, navigate an industry that proves surprisingly willing to believe what it wants to believe.
McAvoy proves a confident presence behind the camera, balancing humor with a sharper observational edge. The scam itself is undeniably entertaining; there’s a mischievous energy in watching the duo build their alter egos, refine their accents, and step into a world that feels galaxies away from Dundee. The music industry is portrayed as both gatekeeper and enabler; eager for authenticity, yet oddly blind to it when it’s staring them in the face.
The screenplay maintains a lively rhythm. There’s an awareness that, beneath the surface-level comedy, lies a more complex story about identity, aspiration, and the performative nature of success. It’s the one-liners that will make you laugh, ‘tele-com Jesus’ and ‘Beverly Hills council estate’ being some examples. Scenes like teaching grannies to rap on a coach to London are the exact type of content our screens need. They’re wholesome, relatable, and not exaggerated to the point where they’re unbelievable.
Performances across the board are excellent. The central duo, whose journey anchors the film, is portrayed with a balance of cheek and vulnerability, ensuring they’re more than just punchline machines. Seamus McLean Ross (Gavin) and Samuel Bottomley (Billy) give an honest and undeniable performance. They’re charming and simply sweet on screen, and their characters are so easy to root for. What’s hilarious is that the dynamic duo doesn’t sound (or look) the part, but you want them to be better and succeed. They do get better, though. Ross has some lovely, emotional moments towards the end, showing audiences what he’s capable of as an actor.
James Corden brings his usual charisma to a supporting role, adding a hilarious layer of industry satire – his rapping is unmatched. Lucy Halliday’s character, Mary, injects perspective, bringing the story and the boys back to reality. McAvoy is a standout as always, stealing every scene with his sharp, serious tone.
The idea that you can simply decide to be someone else, and have the world accept it, is both empowering and deeply unsettling. The film plays with that tension, allowing the audience to revel in the audacity of the con while gradually recognizing its fragility. Inevitably, the story turns. As the cracks begin to show, the tone shifts subtly. Our loveable duo are slowly pulled apart, and tensions rise as Gavin wants to continue this facade, going deeper and deeper into the fame and fortune, and Billy wants to come clean. There’s the reality of how quickly the world can turn against you; they’ll tear you from the pedestal they put you on, and it’ll be your fault.
The film does occasionally skim over the deeper implications of its premise. Consequences and stakes do emerge, but don’t feel high enough. The only stake is between Billy and Mary’s relationship, which is emotional, but Gavin’s character needed a stronger reason to continue lying other than not liking Scotland. When the boys do come clean, Gavin spirals into drug and alcohol abuse, but it’s brief. With one final rap, it’s a gentle, poignant ending to an energetic film.
California Schemin’ is an engaging and joyful ride. It’s a story about ambition taken to its most illogical extreme, about the power of belief, and about an industry that sometimes values the myth as much as the music. In a world obsessed with image, California Schemin’ opens ideas on identity, reality, and faking it until you make it. A must-watch film!
Director: Kristoffer Borgli Writer: Kristoffer Borgli Stars: Zendaya, Robert Pattinson, Alana Haim
Synopsis:A happily engaged couple is put to the test when an unexpected turn sends their wedding week off the rails.
Director Kristoffer Borgli is known for helming dark comedies, tackling themes of cancel culture in his previous feature, Dream Scenario, and the unhinged lengths that narcissism goes to in Sick of Myself. The Drama represents his most audacious outing yet, balancing the tonal inflections of squirmy cringe comedy and stress-inducing drama that surround the real-world ramifications of its twist. Borgli is great at delving into the hilarity of these bleak confrontations and giving nuance to the subject matter at hand, but like his previous films, it lacks in a few key elements that keep it from being great, mainly residing in the deeper commentary that is touched upon effectively enough but always comes across as more that was waiting to be explored within difficult conversations. Still, thanks to a remarkably committed cast and Zendaya and Robert Pattinson rolling within the recoils of awkwardness in this story, it makes for a uniquely unhinged dramedy that’s as funny as it is thought-provoking around the conceit of love being or not being enough.
We begin the road to a wedding disaster following a happily engaged couple, Emma (Zendaya) and Charlie (Robert Pattinson). They’re about one week away from their wedding, and the preparations have been in full swing. The film’s editing stands out from the get-go, flashing us back to Emma and Charlie’s meet-cute and date where Charlie first discovers his girlfriend is deaf in one ear, as their first meeting begins awkwardly but has a cute, goofy charm to it. Their clumsily sweet chemistry is showcased in full as they both deliberate on the speeches to give and songs to dance to with the big night ever approaching.
Things start to take a turn, however, when, while walking on the street, Charlie and Emma see their wedding DJ smoking heroin just across from them. This sight leads to a discussion later in the night with their married friends Rachel (Alana Haim) and Mike (Mamoudou Athie) over a round of drinks, where they all reveal the worst thing they’ve ever done. It starts as a cutesy convo at first, revealing bad secrets through comedic banter until Emma’s incredibly bad secret flips the entire movie on its head, sending the couple and their friends into tough questions about morality and the impending wedding, essentially becoming a collision course.
The Drama’s tonal balance is like walking the world’s highest tightrope while juggling blades of fire. Borgli’s screenplay constantly shifts between the most absurdist comedy and the brutally bleak reality surrounding the psyche of nearly every character here and their response to the subject matter. The dark satire matched with nuanced conversations will test the limits of many audience members, but the movie manages to nail the balancing act thanks to the performances at its center and the shocking, brilliant usage of technical elements on display. The editing by Joshua Raymond Lee and Borgli is simply exquisite as the film takes its shift into darker territory within its second act. Scenes can often have a nightmarish quality to them, where the stressful cuts between flashbacks and fantasy create a mood where every sense of tension hits you like a ton of bricks. The cringe of anxious laughter followed by the shock of each revelation makes the viewer question their own judgment as the movie brings up further queries about what it really means to be unconditionally loved or acts as a stabbing, reflective critique of the obsessively juvenile and performative nature of our American culture.
Borgli’s screenplay sometimes falls short of its desire to ruffle as many feathers as possible, but the performances from the whole cast manage to elevate the flatter elements on the page. Alana Haim’s “holier than thou” Rachel particularly stands out within the supporting cast as someone whose hypocrisy shines bright, essentially claiming self-righteous superiority after the film’s central revelation with a standout speech in the third act, but Zendaya and Pattinson are electric on the screen. Pattinson’s Charlie is essentially a pressure cooker of slow but sure loss of sanity as the revelation grows in gossip and his charmingly weird demeanor dissipates as the events of the week go further off the rails, trying to make the indefensible defensible.
Zendaya’s role acts as a more tricky situation as there are key moments where the development of Emma needed something a bit more to fully earn more of the surprisingly bittersweet elements of the story as it concludes emphasizing more of the romance instead of the comedy, but this role is right up with Challengers in giving the widest range of emotions she’s had to play with yet. She tackles the thorniness of every conversation, wonderfully balancing the unhinged comedy and dramatic reveals in the third act so well. The two leads act as the perfect antithesis to the wide array of tones in the writing, and the questions are left to ponder over as the credits roll.
The aforementioned aspect of the film brings up more questions than answers surrounding its horrific real-life subject matter; rather than getting even further into the weeds of it, it will leave some a drift to the movie’s gestures, but it acts more in the film’s favor in a majority of cases. When sitting in the discomfort of something thrown straight in your face that’s no laughing matter, it forces you to question your own morality and whether it is just how possible it is to justify the past complexities, no matter how terrible they truly are, and while the lack of answers can be frustrating, it only adds to the movie’s overall twisted unconventionality.
The Drama is sure to be a discourse storm, with varied options across the spectrum, but Kristoffer Borgli crafts a successful pitch-black rom-com that tests the limits of its dramedy while also delivering on its bittersweet dynamics and unhinged cringe comedy in equal measure. Even within its more shaky components, thanks to the chemistry of its two leads and unbelievably stressful reveals, The Drama will stand out as one of 2026’s most unconventional films, completely reveling in its prickly complexities.
Synopsis: Julia Loktev documents independent journalists in Moscow facing government crackdown as Russia invades Ukraine, capturing their fight for speech amid risks of being branded “foreign agents” and the country’s drift towards authoritarianism.
Long films can be a big ask for some viewers, as evidenced by a nearly constant misunderstanding of what editors do for a living. But there is no ideal length for a movie, it all just depends. A perfect example of this is the documentary, My Undesirable Friends: Part 1 – Last Air in Moscow. Much has been made of its 5 hour and 24 minute runtime, and even more has been made over the fact that this is only part one. The length of this film is both the point and besides the point. The long form documentary has now generally been relegated to the streaming television world, which is both good and bad. It is hard to expect people to spend nearly a work shift in a theater and streaming offers more opportunities for films to be seen. However, there is a great deal to be gained by watching this film straight through, although there are chapter breaks built in for rest periods, should they be needed.
For anyone concerned about the encroachment of government overreach, regardless of location, My Undesirable Friends will hit uncomfortably close to home. As we are introduced to the many young people, mostly women, who populate this documentary, there is an energy and a sense of hope, even if we know that most of it will evaporate, given current events. The focus on TV Rain, which was supposed to be a fun, young, new station, is a perfect metaphor for what powerful governments do to their people. As it quickly transforms into a news station that is in direct opposition to government funded news in Russia, the individuals become “radical” by necessity. The title of the film becomes clear, derived from the message that must be placed before each and every broadcast (as well as their personal social media posts): stating that the information on the broadcast is from foreign agents, serving outside forces. This is, of course, blatantly untrue, but it enables them to continue broadcasting for the time being. And for the time, this is truly the last free breath of air in a country ravaged by overreach.
The film is broken into five chapters, with obvious time lapses between each. It begins in October of 2021, and ends in March of 2022, with the Russian invasion into Ukraine. Despite the terrifying situations shown in the day-to-day, interestingly, much of the bad news takes place interstitially. Often, the chapters end with a hopeful closing, only to be undone by text detailing what has happened in the interim. When viewers finish the final chapter (of part one), it will seem incredible that less than a year has passed in the lives of these subjects. They are almost unrecognizable, from an emotional standpoint, in comparison to the people we were introduced to in Chapter 1. And this is an important lesson, given without a sermon from director Julia Loktev. Loktev clearly has a rapport with her subjects that allows for honesty, both from a professional and personal standpoint. We are allowed to see not only their desire for a better world, but their struggles in relationships. Her minimal interruptions serve to make us feel like we are connected to their difficulties and her camera becomes less noticeable and intrusive as the time passes, yet another advantage to the film’s length.
The timing of this documentary was both upsetting and fortuitous from a filmmaking perspective. World events obviously shaped the inherent drama following these reporters, but it is their humanity that shines through. It becomes impossible to separate their difficulties from our own, despite a separation of thousands of miles. One might wonder how a documentary could fill this amount of time, but any of the women focused on here could have their own full-length documentary, as they all have struggles that make them intensely and immediately relatable.
In the first chapter, one of the main foci is Anna Nemzer. And yes, she is an on-air reporter, but she is also, just as importantly, a mother. As she drives through Moscow with her child in the backseat, she is like us, desperately attempting to explain the unexplainable. People in large cities are even more aghast at the controlling nature of fascistic governments. The unthinkable becomes not only possible, but probable. State control, even in a city of millions, is now the norm, unless you fall in line with what they want, an impossibility for a person of morality.
Later, we hear the story of Ksyusha, whose fiancée has been arrested by the government at some point earlier. Watching her struggles with frustration, loneliness, and rage all balanced with the reminders of her youth. She, like many others, is forced to face problems that would be impossible at any age. As she vacillates between trying to distract herself and processing the overwhelming sadness of possibly leaving the country, one cannot help but put themselves in her shoes. Would I have the strength to stay because of how it would impact those close to me that I am not allowed to see? I hope so, but watching this internal strength is both inspiring and rage-inducing. This young woman, who simply wants to do the right thing, is blockaded into decisions that have no correct answer.
And therein lies the trouble in our current world predicament, so perfectly echoed in this stunning, important documentary. As the government tightens its hold on certain inalienable rights, it becomes even more paramount to remember that it can move quickly. These women knew what was coming and made plans for an escape. The tearful goodbyes, the simmering rage at their leaders, the desire to simply enjoy a movie; it is all captured here and we cannot help but wish for a better world. But that is the trap. Wishing is not enough. Like these strong young women, actions must be taken. Even if they seem small, likely simply not parroting government talking points, every moment of truth makes us more human. They can call us traitors, undesirables, radicals, or whatever term they like. We live in hope that the pendulum will swing back and we can return to a sense of normality.
My Undesirable Friends: Part 1 – Last Air in Moscow is important, and not in the way we usually speak about movies. The parallels to our own experience in the United States are clear, and not because of a director weaving a fiction to lead us there. Instead, the clarity comes in opening our eyes and ears and feeling the human connection. A quest for truth, honesty, and a way through has been provided by Julia Loktev. She has enabled us to see a story we were not meant to see, and one that will repeat if we don’t have the strength to stand in the face of it. There are no guaranteed happy endings for the women in this documentary, they are bittersweet at best. Their survival and strength gives us hope and helps us to remember the importance of our freedom of speech and press, for as long as we have it.
On this episode, JD and Brendan discuss BenDavid Grabinski’s new time travel comedy Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice! It might not be reaching for genius comedic heights, but it’s arguably quite effective at what it’s trying to be. We do have a bit of debate on this one though.
Review:Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice
Director: Matt Johnson Writers: Matt Johnson, Jay McCarrol Stars: Matt Johnson, Jay McCarrol, Jared Raab
Director:Rick Gomez Writers: Rick Gomez, Steve Zahn Stars: Steve Zahn, Ethan Hawke, Audrey Zahn
Synopsis: A struggling single father tries to reconnect with his distant teenage daughter while chaperoning her at a regional dance competition in the Southeast.
She Dances steps into the quiet tradition of father-daughter stories; often rooted in tender moments, emotional distance, and unspoken love, with ease and sincerity. I won’t deny I’m a true lover of these types of stories, whether from the classic Cinema Days of Paper Moon to animated Features such as The Mitchells Vs The Machines, and even as recent as this year’s Best Picture Winner, One Battle After Another. So as soon as I discovered this feature and the people involved in this, I knew it was catnip for me, in the best ways. The picture follows Jason, a single father who volunteers to chaperone his daughter’s final dance competition before she graduates high school. This attempt comes after the loss of a loved one, which further complicates an already distant father-daughter relationship.
Emmy-nominated Steve Zahn has long been one of the most underrated character actors. Known for supporting roles in Rescue Dawn and Captain Fantastic, Zahn takes on something rare here: a lead role and co-writing credit. She Dances comes from a personal place, as Zahn himself has been a real-life dance dad to his daughter and co-star, Audrey Zahn. In a world often dominated by the motherly perspective elevated by mainstream shows like Dance Moms, the film offers a warm, easygoing indie experience.
One of the film’s strongest qualities is what it chooses not to do. It avoids typical Hollywood tropes: there are no climactic blow-up arguments, contrived misunderstandings, or on-the-nose dialogue. Rick Gomez, as a director, keeps the film engaging with a tight runtime and editorial choices that highlight the dichotomy of Jason and Claire. The use of split screens displaying the polar opposites lives and of Jason and Claire of one’s controlled mess and another’s messy control post family split up makes for an intriguing directorial approach. It’s utilized again for future scenes that bridges the gap symbolically between older to younger generations finding middle ground rather than further separation.
The film captures the intensity and nuance of dance competitions, the pressure of routines, the rivalries behind the scenes, all without descending into melodrama. Unlike reality shows that sensationalize conflict, the story humanizes a sports rivalry between Claire (Audrey Zahn) and an older rival with a clever reversed Rocky reference. Gomez and Zahn’s writing perfectly captures the small but well established stakes of the story. It isn’t afraid to show the uncertain realities of what process from injuries to simple wrong date reservations to hotels.
The performances, as a whole, are understated and naturalistic. Steve Zahn delivers one of the most memorable performances of his career, balancing quiet mourning, internal support, and everyday awkwardness. Audrey Zahn, in her feature acting debut, shows promise, though her first half performance struggles with consistency. Chemistry with her best friend Kat (former Dance Moms star Mackenzie Ziegler) is believable, but the intentional flow is uneven. The third act reveals her growth, through a heartfelt ending. An ending that does take a swing at her character’s striving to heal with emotional intelligence rather than concerns of who wins or not. But even with its good intentions and well written ending, it doesn’t fully resolve the unevenness that’s within the first half of the picture through her portrayal.
The film’s comedic nuances land in places, such as Jason’s encounters with eccentric dance moms or delivering a bag backstage. Yet some moments leave the audience unsure whether a scene is meant to feel sincere or awkwardly comedic.
Narratively, the film in small moments can feel incomplete. For instance, Brian (Ethan Hawke), is revealed as an important sentimental anchor for Jason as his business partner and best friend. While the subplot works conceptually, Hawke’s limited screentime and underdeveloped presence leave his character’s emotional significance somewhat undercut, despite a charming performance. Endearing performances are seen with other supporting cast members, including Sonequa Martin-Green and Wynn Everett, who give their all to roles that enrich this niche competitive world.
She Dances is a pleasant, heartfelt film made by friends and family. While it struggles with tonal balance and never reaches extraordinary heights, it remains an honest, well-intentioned indie that knows exactly what it wants to be. For many viewers, that will be more than enough.
Director:Oscar Boyson Writers: Ricky Camilleri, Oscar Boyson Stars: Jaedan Martell, Asa Butterfield, Chris Bauer
Synopsis: Follows a wealthy New York City teenager who, eager to impress his activist crush, follows an online connection to Texas where he believes he can stop an act of extreme violence.
What lengths will someone go through for a friend? How far will someone go through for someone they haven’t actually met? What difficulties will someone go through to be hailed as a hero in the eyes of someone they are desperate to impress? These are just a few of the questions that Our Hero, Balthazar brought to my mind. In his directing and from a screenplay he co-wrote with Ricky Camilleri, Oscar Boyson brings us a film that reminds me of Fight Club-era David Fincher. This film is a raw, bleak, disturbing, and hilarious look at youth culture in America.
From left, Balthazar (Jaeden Martell) and Solomon (Asa Butterfield) enjoy a bit of target shooting in OUR HERO, BALTHAZAR, an audacious and darkly comic coming-of-age satire about a wealthy New York teenager who follows an online connection to Texas, where he’s convinced he can stop an act of extreme violence.
Jaeden Martell plays the title character, Balthazar, a posh upper class private school kid growing up in New York City. He is obsessed with social media and makes videos in which he cries while speaking of loneliness. He even rehearses his tears until he gets it right. To impress a young woman in his class, he decides he will befriend another lonely teen, Solomon (Asa Butterfield), from Texas, to try to prevent him from becoming a school shooter, and become a hero. Solomon is a product of his environment, and is played to perfection. While the premise of the film seems simplistic, it is a damning look not just on gun culture in America; but social media, family, and societal pressure. These boys have grown up in vastly different environments, but the familiar ache of feeling isolated connects them.
Does this movie answer any of the many questions it raises? Not really. But what it does do is offer a glimpse into the lives of people society ignores, or maybe just refuses to see. Solomon is not just a violent kid. I went into the film expecting a series of tropes and cliches, but this movie tried to show him as a human being before being a stereotype. We see him taking care of his elderly grandma, for whom he is the primary caregiver. We see him try to connect with a woman he has a crush on, only to be humiliatingly rejected. As embarrassing as it is to watch his character, I do feel some sympathy for him. He wants someone to love and care for, and desperately needs someone to love and care for him. When Balthazar arrives in Texas with the sole purpose of befriending him, he believes his life is going to change. Will Balthazar become the hero of this story? You will need to see the film to find out.
I went into the film expecting the film to focus solely on the topic of gun culture in the United States. I was wrong. It explored family dynamics, and the universality of being disconnected from parents, the need for approval. The relationship between the ultra-wealthy Balthazar and his mother could use some deeper understanding, but Boyson really shows us the relationship, or lack thereof, between Solomon and his father. We see Solomon’s father impart some extremely toxic ideas of masculinity on his son. I also appreciated the film’s not so subtle jab at the Mid-Level Marketing business idea, and how it traps poor people into the idea that they will become wealthy if they keep spending their rent money on expensive products they won’t be able to sell. This not only made a statement on the importance of familial relationships, but added depth and understanding to Solomon’s character.
Jaeden Martell stars as Balthazar, a cynical and performative wealthy teenager made-up for a school shooting drill, in OUR HERO, BALTHAZAR, an audacious and darkly comic coming-of-age satire about a wealthy New York teenager who follows an online connection to Texas, where he’s convinced he can stop an act of extreme violence.
The writing and direction of this film are astounding. The screenplay is written by two men who clearly understand the subject matter and the world of youth today. They show the impacts on a national level of social media, and how it infects the minds of those who devote their lives to it. The film gripped me from the opening shots, and ended with what felt like an emotional punch to the throat. It lingered in my soul long afterwards. This film is not an easy film to watch. However, it is an important film to see.
Director:Frank Oz Writers: Howard Ashman, Roger Corman, Charles B. Griffith Stars: Rick Moranis, Ellen Greene, Vincent Gardenia
Synopsis:A nerdy florist finds his chance for success and romance with the help of a giant man-eating plant who demands to be fed.
Every time I watch Little Shop of Horrors, I’m reminded just how gleefully strange, and strangely perfect, it is. First released in 1986, the film follows meek florist Seymour (Rick Moranis), who stumbles upon a mysterious plant that promises fame, fortune, and romance… so long as he keeps it well fed with human blood. What begins as a scrappy skid row fairytale quickly spirals into a darkly comic morality tale with a killer hook (quite literally). Despite strong reviews and a growing fanbase, the film was only a modest success at the box office on its initial release, overshadowed by bigger studio offerings of the time such as Top Gun and Aliens. And yet, in the decades since, it has blossomed into something far more enduring: a bona fide cult musical classic.
Rewatching it now for its 40th anniversary, I felt the same rush of joy I did the first time. There’s something undeniably infectious about its blend of horror, comedy, and toe-tapping musical numbers. Directed by Frank Oz, the film adapts the off-Broadway stage musical with a cinematic flair that never loses its theatrical charm. It’s heightened, stylized, and proudly artificial in all the right ways.
The cast is a huge part of why it works so well. Rick Moranis is pitch-perfect as Seymour, bringing a sweetness and awkward sincerity that makes his increasingly questionable decisions feel oddly relatable. Opposite him, Ellen Greene reprises her stage role as Audrey, delivering a performance that’s equal parts cartoonish and heartfelt. Steve Martin absolutely steals every scene he’s in as the sadistic dentist, Orin Scrivello. His musical number is still one of my favorites; it’s completely outrageous, energetic, and just the right side of unhinged. Knowing where these actors would go next adds an extra layer of appreciation. Moranis would go on to lead family favorites like Ghostbusters and Honey, I Shrunk the Kids. Martin continued to cement his legacy as one of America’s great comedic performers, and the film itself has become a defining credit in all of their careers. There’s also memorable supporting performances from Bill Murray and John Candy that can’t go without mention.
Of course, it would be impossible to talk about Little Shop of Horrors without mentioning Audrey II – the man-eating plant with a voice smoother than velvet. Brought to life through extraordinary puppetry rather than CGI, Audrey II remains one of the most impressive practical creations in film. The fact that it still looks and feels so alive today is a testament to the craftsmanship behind it. There’s a tangible weight and presence to the character that modern effects often struggle to replicate.
The songs are catchy, clever, and packed with personality. From the infectious “Suddenly, Seymour” to the gloriously sinister “Feed Me,” every number pushes the story forward while deepening the characters. Beneath the camp and spectacle, there’s a surprisingly sharp commentary on ambition, consumerism, and the cost of “making it.” But it never feels heavy-handed. It’s too busy having fun and inviting you to do the same.
If I had to nitpick, there are moments where the pacing dips slightly, but honestly, it’s hard to dwell on that when the film is this charming. It knows exactly what it is and leans into it wholeheartedly. The costumes, the hair, makeup, everything about this film is thought-out and on-point and no wonder people come back to it time after time.
What was most surprising for me was the end. On my VHS, then DVD version the end is seemingly a happy one. In the cinema, I was given an ending where the plants win and take over the world. It screamed “let’s break the set because we can” and felt as if they didn’t know how to end the film. But there was something so interesting and nostalgic about this B-movie ending. I’m glad it exists. Forty years on, Little Shop of Horrors doesn’t just hold up, it thrives. Watching it back on the big screen feels like rediscovering an old favorite that never really left. If you’ve never seen it, now is the perfect time. And if, like me, you already love it, then you probably don’t need convincing. Go and see it. Let it pull you back in. Just remember… don’t feed the plants.
How did you all do during the Flash Sale? Coinciding with the release of Killers of the Flower Moon, hopefully a copy was procured during this semi-annual event. We are now a quarter of the way through the year, the Oscars are done, and it feels as if the 2026 film season can take its first steps as the 2025 film season soaks into history. This coming month, Criterion will be maintaining its high quantity of releases with three 4K upgrades, a Criterion Premieres release, a brand new 4K release, a new Eclipse Series release, and, to top it all off, a new box set celebrating three classics from an American great (you get all that?). No more wasting time, let me run it down.
Gilda (1946)
Anytime I think of this movie I always think of that scene from The Shawshank Redemption. Obviously, it’s the one scene everyone would know – “Gilda, are you decent?” “Me?”. That’s the priceless Hollywood charm you can’t replicate. Rita Hayworth is a treat to watch and it shows here. A dangerous game of lust between a kingpin’s henchman and the kingpin’s wife, Gilda is a visually rich, morally sultry picture that feels as fresh a watch today as it was back in 1946. Plus, I’ve said this before, but 4K restorations of black and white films are just as visually enriching as one of those pictures in color. Gilda is a 4K+Blu-Ray combo pack featuring a new 4K digital restoration.
Trouble in Paradise (1932)
Ernst Lubitsch, as a filmmaker, is one-of-one. His films, usually characterized by the ‘Lubitsch Touch’, appear to exist in a realm of reality that isn’t attached to any point and time. Trouble in Paradise is no different from that mantra. While this film was made and released during the Hays Code, it was during a period prior to rigid enforcement and is made as an act of defiance. Trouble in Paradise is about thievery and romance in Europe – delightfully devilish and brimming with style. This film would be a major inspiration for Wes Anderson’s The Grand Budapest Hotel. Trouble in Paradise is a 4K+Blu-Ray combo pack featuring a new 4K digital restoration.
Monty Python’s Life of Brian (1979)
British comedy was led by Monty Python in the 1970s and includes a number of films as well as the hilarious television program – Monty Python’s Flying Circus. One of Monty Python’s best films is Life of Brian which is about a Judean man named Brian who is mistaken for the Messiah during the time of Jesus. Expectations of comedy and film were constantly challenged under the Monty Python eye, and this film is no different. Considered blasphemous upon release, Monty Python’s Life of Brian was banned in multiple countries but now is considered a comedy great. The reverberations of Monty Python’s influence are still going strong in both film and television. Monty Python’s Life of Brian is a 4K release with a new 4K digital restoration supervised by Monty Python member and filmmaker Terry Gilliam.
Resurrection (2025)
In a new release from Criterion’s ‘Criterion Premieres’ line of films, Resurrection is a freshly released film from Chinese filmmaker, Bi Gan. Resurrection is an epic film spanning different time periods and visual styles in the form of cinematic chapters. The film premiered at the Cannes Film Festival and won the Special Prize. Criterion Premieres is a line of films that releases new Janus Film releases with minimal special features and Resurrection will release on Blu-Ray.
Point Blank(1967)
Not to be confused by the similarly named, and equally Criterion-worthy film, Point Break – Point Blank is a stylish revenge thriller that has had some form of influence on all revenge thrillers that came after. The endlessly cool Lee Marvin goes on a storm of vengeance in Los Angeles and anyone who is a fan of gangster films owes it to themselves to watch this (I will certainly be picking this up). Point Blank is a 4K+Blu-Ray combo pack featuring a new director approved 4K digital restoration.
Eclipse Series 48: Kinuyo Tanaka Directs
Japanese actress Kinuyo Tanaka spent most of the 1950s, as well as the early 1960s, directing her own films. The film industry, at the time, didn’t allow much room for female filmmakers to flourish and Kinuyo Tanaka made 6 feature films – all about women defying social norms. Tanaka criticized issues revolving around arranged marriage, the female body, imperialism, sex work, religious persecution, and love. The films are Love Letter, The Moon Has Risen, Forever a Woman, The Wandering Princess, Girls of the Night, and Love Under the Crucifix and they are all featured in a Blu-Ray box set.
John Singleton’s Hood Trilogy
John Singleton was one of America’s greatest filmmakers whose career unfortunately slowed down around the mid-2000s. While we did get a handful of excellent films from him, the lack of consistent releases is a Hollywood tragedy. Throughout his career, Singleton made films that represented his upbringing in Los Angeles in what Criterion would dub as his ‘Hood Trilogy’. Singleton’s directorial debut, Boyz n the Hood, was a devastating but brilliant film that ingrained itself into a part of American culture. His follow up, Poetic Justice, put musical superstar Janet Jackson onto the film scene and furthered Tupac Shakur’s acting capabilities after his excellent work on Juice. Then, after two films outside of the ‘hood’ setting, he returned to what would eventually be his last written feature film with Baby Boy. Originally written for Tupac Shakur before his murder in 1996, Baby Boy stars R&B artist Tyrese Gibson and rap legend Snoop Dogg. John Singleton’s Hood Trilogy is a 4K box set featuring a previously director approved 4K digital restoration of Boyz n the Hood, and new 4K digital restorations of Poetic Justice and Baby Boy.
On this episode, JD and Brendan discuss the Matt Johnson / Jay McCarrol mockumentary time travel film Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie! Talk about movie surprises, we absolutely loved this despite having no connection to the web series or the show. It takes guerilla filmmaking to a new level and is immensely successful in creating one of the year’s funniest films.
Review:Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie
Director: Matt Johnson Writers: Matt Johnson, Jay McCarrol Stars: Matt Johnson, Jay McCarrol, Jared Raab
Directors:Aaron Horvath, Michael Jelenic, Pierre Leduc Writer:Matthew Fogel Stars: Chris Pratt, Charlie Day, Anya Taylor-Joy
Synopsis: Mario ventures into space, exploring cosmic worlds and tackling galactic challenges far from the familiar Mushroom Kingdom.
I was surprised, like anyone, to enjoy The Super Mario Galaxy Movie, a far superior sequel to The Super Mario Bros. Movie. The sad part is that the less Mario and Luigi, the better, especially the latter. The sequel levels up, featuring some of the most beautiful and dazzling animation you will ever see, it is, at times, truly jaw-dropping.
There is a kinetic energy to Nintendo’s surging film studio, with plenty of intellectual properties in its pocket. However, The Super Mario Galaxy Movie thrives when it focuses on its supporting characters, even if the obvious goal is to launch a wave of IP spinoffs. For example, like Fox McCloud, voiced by Glen Powell (The Running Man), a desperate-for-a-hit legendary pilot from the Star Fox series.
The action is exciting and inventive, and most of the jokes land, ranging from cute to amusing to downright funny. Above all, the dose of nostalgia, paired with clever ways to blend old-school gaming with modern sensibilities, proves to be a genuine delight. While the film leans into “newer” character tendencies to attract younger viewers, it honors the original enough to embrace both the old and the new with enjoyable results.
The story begins with the introduction of a beloved Super Mario Bros. character who rarely gets her due: Rosalina (Brie Larson), a galactic princess and adoptive mother to the Lumas; friendly, mysterious, star-like creatures who bring new meaning to codependency. A beautiful blonde baddie with striking bangs that cover one eye, she cares for her star-children with deep empathy, proving more than capable of handling herself when things turn dangerous.
Cue Bowser Jr. (Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret’s Benny Safdie), the new leader of the Koopas, a hot-tempered turtle race. Junior is in constant search of his father, Bowser (Jack Black), who is currently under house arrest by Mario (Mercy’s Chris Pratt) and Luigi (Charlie Day, annoying as ever here). This follows Princess Peach (Anya Taylor-Joy) shrinking Bowser to an adorable size, with help from Toad (Keegan-Michael Key) and his allies.
What does Princess Rosalina have to do with Bowser and the future of the Koopa race? That answer lies in a father-and-son story, one Bowser, Sr. once told his son. Either way, when Rosalina is abducted, the Lumas journey to the Mushroom Kingdom, following her instructions to seek out Princess Peach if anything ever happened to her. This sets Peach, Mario, Luigi, Toad, and their new ally, Yoshida (Donald Glover), on a mission to rescue her.
The Super Mario Galaxy Movie, from the creators of Teen Titans Go! To the Movies, Aaron Horvath and Michael Jelenic, who also helmed the original, work from a script by Matthew Fogel (Minions: The Rise of Gru, The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part). The film capitalizes on Yoshi, a lovable dinosaur with a hearty appetite and a tendency to, ugh, “plop” enemies into tiny eggs, serving as a buffer between the Mario brothers, who remain the driest part of the film.
As I said, Charlie Day offers nothing to the Luigi character other than, to put it politely, a distinct voice that brings a beloved character down, which is grating. Chris Pratt, meanwhile, has capitalized on his The Lego Movie fame, cashing paycheck after paycheck with an animated filmography that is quietly on par with his Guardians of the Galaxy and Jurassic World franchises. Unfortunately, the characters are really straight men for a vibrant supporting cast.
Surprisingly, the most heartfelt story comes from Jack Black’s Bowser and his son, featuring a sweet scene that cleverly sets up the exposition for why Rosalina was taken. That thread drives the film more than Mario and Luigi, who, along with Peach, are given a more standard setup. The third act leans into retro charm that any gamer, and their kids, will appreciate. This is pure family fun and memory lane escapism.
The Super Mario Galaxy Movie is not without its flaws, like thin main characters, which is a drawback. However, the sequel’s plot is unusually heartfelt, with the villains being three-dimensional, which is welcome. Even though the Star Fox character is nothing more than a way to introduce a sequel, the other supporting characters and easter eggs throughout are richly rewarding.
The sequel delivers charm, humor, and visual spectacles, making it a definite crowd-pleaser, even though a third would be wise to focus on improving the main character’s story arc for a more well-rounded, soulful conclusion. Until then, The Super Mario Galaxy Movie is a fun placeholder while we wait for Super Mario Bros. film worthy of the titular characters that fans deserve.
You can watch The Super Mario Galaxy Movieexclusively in theaters starting April 3rd!
