Director: Joshua Overbay
Writer: Andie Morgenlander, Joshua Overbay
Stars: Erik Odom, Andie Morgenlander, Dustin Whitehead

Synopsis: Two artists collide at the lowest point in their lives and they form a deep emotional bond that alters them both in unanticipated ways.

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Joshua Overbay stunned us in 2014 with As It Is In Heaven, one of the better movies about spirituality we’ve seen in recent years. Well Overbay is back with a new film, Luke & Jo, a stark departure from the rural nature of Kentucky to a suburban drama about two lost individuals who bond over their similar dilemmas. But like As It Is In Heaven, Luke & Jo is handled with grace and diligently explores what drives the emotional displacement in both Luke and Jo.

Luke (Erik Odom) is a married man and an aspiring screenwriter who travels to Hollywood where he’s hoping to meet producers who would be willing to look at his latest script. Jo (Andie Morgenlander) is a struggling musician who can’t seem to get her life in order. The two of them randomly come across each other at a local bar and strike up a friendship after learning about how comparable their lives are. The relationship gets even more complicated as Luke, whose marriage is on the fringe, begins to flirt with thoughts that test his morals.

The biggest strength of Juke & Jo lies within Overbay and Morgenlander’s script, which wonderfully balances both arcs of Luke and Jo, while dabbling into themes of temptation, depression, isolation, ambition and one’s inability to cope. The conflict in both characters evoke a pathos that many people will be able to connect to as they begin find hope in each other. However, what makes the script even more transcendent is how Overbay and Morgenlander upend that hope with the harsh realities of life. Back in 2014, the ending to As It Is In Heaven was by far one of the best endings of that year, and once again Overbay delivers on something magical. Instead of lingering in sentimentality or being spiritual cloy, he ambiguously offers a dichotomy that leaves us wondering what happens next for Luke and Jo.

This is amplified by great direction and cinematography as well. Much like the dialogue, a lot of imagery in Luke & Jo was improvised to make the naturalistic components to the film even more palpable and evocative. And boy, did they succeed. In one scene, as Luke and Jo are walking through the town and talking, the camera tracks with them glistening in the city lights and it gorgeously captures their bond in the moment. This is a motif we see constantly throughout the film. The camera isn’t overly active or calling attention to itself, but rather being another natural participant alongside our main protagonists.

Erik Odom gives a solid performance as Luke. There are perhaps a few instances where he’s unable to deliver on his Luke’s most extreme emotions, but when focused on the internal ramblings of the character, Odom is more than servicable. Andie Morgenlander is excellent as Jo. She’s constantly on the fringe, but never to the point of being detached from reality. She is wanting more out of life but not sure how to attain it, and Morgenlander taps into that struggle with a robust poignancy that comes through with intense vigor. The chemistry of Morgenlander and Odom is very good, giving credence to that final scene and its ambiguity.

Luke & Jo is a small film that continues to show promise for Joshua Overbay. Yeah, you could nitpick a few things here and there that are a result of being on a micro-budget, but if you push those aside there is some real depth on display here. In a pivotal scene where Luke has a meeting with a producer, Overbay orchestrates symbolism and narrative storytelling in some rather remarkable ways. I can’t imagine what he’d be able to do with a real budget. If he’s able to get his hands on some real money, watch out.

Overall Grade: A-

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Luke and Jo Official Trailer from Solis Films on Vimeo.

Director: Andy Serkis
Writer: Callie Kloves (screenplay by), Rudyard Kipling (based on the stories of)
Stars: Christian Bale, Cate Blanchett, Benedict Cumberbatch

Synopsis: A human child raised by wolves must face off against a menacing tiger named Shere Khan, as well as his own origins.

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Things get complicated when one is stuck between two worlds. Much like the title character of Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle, the film itself seems to be trapped between two worlds: the world of men and the jungle. With the film, on one side it’s the source material, Rudyard Kipling’s 1894 collection of stories known as The Jungle Book, and on the other side is the duality of Disney’s animated film (1967) and a live action version (2016). Also allowing this film to be caught between two worlds is the fact that while Mowgli has all the names attached that would make it a blockbuster theater release, it instead drops on Netflix with only slight fanfare. So, somewhere between the darker source material and a lively sing-a-long as well as a Hollywood spectacle debuting on the small screen, Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle sits in no-man’s land, and no-man’s land is not a great place to be.

The story is familiar enough. Mowgli, an orphaned boy, grows up among wolves and other jungle creatures to one day battle the threats of a deadly tiger who killed his parents and the existential dangers of an encroaching man village. There is true power in this story, a story of identity, belonging, and change. However, the story gets muddled and lost among deep plot holes and unanswered questions. The familiarity of this story is a weight this film cannot handle. In trying to be different, it fails at almost every turn. Mowgli tries to be darker more realistic than the Disney version, but why? The ‘why do we need this’ question hangs over the whole film. Is it needed to work as a tentpole for future Mowgli films?  Is it needed to present and new side to the story (which it does not)? Is it needed because all that singing gets in the way? Seemingly, there are no answers to these riddles. This film has no point; if it did, it probably would have been a theatrical release.

So, what could be the point? Perhaps it’s the use of motion capture technology for which director Andy Serkis is best known. So, if you have big-name actors like Cate Blanchett, Benedict Cumberbatch, and Christian Bale, then what better way to showcase their talent then letting them act their performance instead of merely lending a voice.  The problem with this is it creates an image that is exceedingly creepy. A panther’s face with the characteristics of Christian Bale seems like an excellent idea on paper. However, in execution it is disturbing at best. Sometimes it feels as though the floating, talking heads are unattached to bodies, making the images seem disconnected and eerie. Nothing about these images conveys the heart and soul needed to disseminate this story. Instead, the viewer is left distracted by the anthropomorphic depictions and unable to invest oneself into the film completely. If I had paid money to see this on the big screen, I would have been deeply disappointed. However, on Netflix, alongside much more quality entertainment, Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle just seems like another juxtaposition of moving images to watch when all other options are exhausted.

Overall Grade: C-

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Director: Hirokazu Koreeda
Writers: Hirokazu Koreeda
Stars: Lily Franky, Sakura Andô, Mayu Matsuoka, Kirin Kiki, Jyo Kairi

Synopsis: A family of small-time crooks take in a child they find outside in the cold.

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“Giving birth automatically makes you a mother?” – Sakura Andô as Nobuyo Shibata

Nobuyo’s challenging question forces us to reconsider our predetermined definition of family, and serves as the thematic through-line for Hirokazu Koreeda’s latest drama, the Palme d’or winning Shoplifters.  Following a poverty-stricken Tokyo family, who must resort to shoplifting just to gain the most minimal form of nourishment, they take in (or, steal?) a scarred 5-year-old girl left in the cold in front of her own home.  That plot synopsis might make Shoplifters sound more like a “movie”, but for those familiar with Hirokazu Koreeda’s best work (After Life, Nobody Knows, Still Walking, and Like Father, Like Son), the film nevertheless still continues his tradition at subtly deconstructing our perceptions of what defines a family, possibly in his best and most open-minded ways yet.  If anyone commits the biggest theft here, it’s arguably Koreeda himself, as Shoplifters has a way of sneaking up on you like a thief in a supermarket.

Despite its grander premise, Shoplifters is very much a Hirokazu Koreeda film, favoring stillness over melodrama.  There’s a natural tranquility to Koreeda’s films, making his work feel like casual experiences, forcing those to dwell in what’s devastatingly familiar.  In Shoplifters, thievery and poverty come off like second-nature for this family, as if none of this is new for any of them; there’s a longevity in their hardships, a tragic history which we never see for ourselves, heightening the film’s saddening interior by keeping things momentary and within a specific fragment of time.  We are introduced to this family during a playfully choreographed act of shoplifting by father-figure Osamu (Lily Franky) and his little boy Shota (Jyo Kairi), followed by a comically written dinner with the rest of the household, including mother-figure Nobuyo (Sakura Andô, who gives one of the year’s best supporting actress performances), oldest child Aki (Mayu Matsuoka), and their pension-providing grandmother Hatsue (Kirin Kiki), who has her own separate familial past that makes for an interesting dichotomy with the rest of this household.  There’s no exposition, but each of these actors give their respective characters their own distinctions that Koreeda wants us to observe; he loves making his audience feel like flies on a wall, and for those willing to give in to its calmness, you’ll probably love it too.

From there, very little conflict occurs at the macro level, even after taking in young Yuri (Miyu Sasaki) from the cold.  This family’s introduction is deliberately right in the middle of their hardships without any setup, with the rest of the film spent observing this household gradually behave more like a family with each passing day.  Many examples of this are sprinkled through the film like a series of vignettes; Shota and Yuri go on their own exciting adventures through Tokyo together (even questionably teaching her how to shoplift with them), Aki morally struggles over her source of income, and Osamu and Nobuyo gradually redefine their roles as “parents”.  In the process, Shota slowly transitions from selfish child to big brother, Osamu and Nobuyo become more intimate with one another (a great moment of such intimacy is first met with confusion, as if this is an act of sexual awakening for each of them), and Aki wrestles with the choice she has made to live with this particular family despite another life she may have.

And that’s the key word in all of this; choice.  I will not dare reveal the specifics, but Shoplifters crystalizes with a revelation that recontextualizes the film’s definition of family, whether a family by choice is perhaps more of a family than those by blood.  But Koreeda relishes in the questions instead of the answers; were these familial bonds on display in fact genuine, does a loving relationship surpass growing up in a stable environment, and was it right to bring a young girl like Yuri into a family of thieves?  We trust the love and affection these people share with one another, but we also feel fooled in their familial believability, and the point is to sense that tug of war.  A pivotal scene burning Yuri’s old clothes serves as this moral turning point, not just for all these characters, but in Yuri’s informal adoption into this family; we are moved by their acceptance in one another, while simultaneously questioning if we should be moved by it at all.  And this is the mark of a great film, when you find yourself questioning notions that the film may not even be directly asking you, but Koreeda gives you permission to look for them.

As we circle back to Nobuyo’s aforementioned question, does giving birth in fact automatically make you a mother? To put it more generally, as a family by choice over lineage, does that make these bonds any less familial? Koreeda seems to think not, but he’s not trying to forcibly convince you of that.  In one scene, grandma Hatsue agrees that you usually can’t choose your own parents, to which Nobuyo answers by saying, “Maybe the bond is stronger when you choose them yourself.”  It may sound like Nobuyo has just answered her own questioned, but the key word there is “maybe”, and that uncertainty matters. 

Not since Satyajit Ray introduced us to the world of Apu in Pather Panchali back in 1955 have we seen such cultural specificity on economic hardship and family, with an emotional calmness that feels heavily inspired by the Ghibli roots of Isao Takahata.  I’m not going to generically say that the film stole (ahem, shoplifted) my heart, but it gave me something in return – an additional outlook on familial relations.  The best movies teach you something you may not have already considered, and Shoplifters might do just that for many people, especially families. Embrace it. 

Overall Grade: A

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Hear our podcast review on Episode 302:

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Director: Otto Bathurst
Writer: Ben Chandler and David James Kelly
Stars: Taron Egerton, Jamie Foxx, Ben Mendelsohn

Synopsis: A war-hardened crusader Robin of Loxley and his Moorish commander mount a revolt against the corrupt Sheriff of Nottingham.

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There have been dozens of Robin Hood movies over the years, the first being a silent, black and white film in 1908. Some of the more notable films are Errol Flynn’s The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991) with Kevin Costner, Disney’s animated Robin Hood (1973), and Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993) starring Cary Elwes. This latest version isn’t the best addition to the long list of Robin Hood films, but it’s probably not the worst either.

The plot of this Robin Hood doesn’t differ too much from most of its predecessors, other than to ditch the traditional role of Little John (Jamie Foxx) and morph him into Morgan Freeman’s character from Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. Not sure why they did that, but he wasn’t the only “Merry Man” to get a backstory makeover. In general, it’s a predictable Robin Hood plot that should have been an easy, action packed, decently casted success, but it was ruined by its multitude of anachronisms, lack of character building, and wonky plot.

There have been a handful of period piece movies that have successfully included historically inaccurate elements. My favorite example is A Knight’s Tale (2001). It embraces its campy/fun vibe, includes modern music, and things that just would not have happened in medieval England, but somehow it works. Robin Hood, which clearly states it takes place during the Third Crusade (1189-1192), has so much historical weirdness that it is unforgivable. It can’t decide if it wants to be a real historical action movie or accept its fate as a bargain bin, popcorn flick. Some examples of historical inaccuracies that ruined the movie; things constructed with steel beams and rivets (an Industrial Revolution invention), medieval grenade launching crossbows, Call of Duty style Middle East warfare, a gambling party including roulette which wasn’t invented until 1655, an attempt at a motivational metaphor around the word “firedamp” which originated in 1662, etc. The costumes were also inaccurate but I’m usually okay with that when they are done tastefully. The hoodie style jacket Robin wears was a stretch but it kind of worked. I feel like this film would have been better off it they had tried a slightly modern take instead of setting it in the 12th century.

The anachronisms weren’t the only things wrong with this film. While some of the cast was decent, Marian (Eve Hewson) and Will Scarlet (Jamie Dornan) were flat and unlikable. I still haven’t decided if I liked Jamie Foxx in this yet. He wasn’t bad, he had a good mix of comedic relief and action moments, but I feel like they tried way to hard to make him Morgan Freeman. I also had an issue with some of the action sequences- one at the end where they blatantly ripped off one of my favorite heist movies, and the crusade street fighting that was pulled right from a first person shooter game or Black Hawk Down (2001).

This movie wasn’t entirely bad, I did like Taron Egerton as Robin Hood, even if he looked a little young. Ben Mendelsohn did his best with the script he was given to portray the evil Sheriff of Nottingham. I kept waiting for his character to get better, luckily he does get to show off his bad-guy skills towards the end of the film. Friar Tuck (Tim Minchin) was also a nice addition to the cast. I’m not sure what else I’ve seen him in, but he was probably the best character in the movie.

Another positive would be some of the action scenes. There were some slow-motion, fighting bits that could have easily been overdone but I think they were interesting and well edited. They also had a few fights that were up close and personal that gave me a Game of Thrones season six vibe.

Robin Hood is simply not a good movie. It would have probably been better off direct to Netflix or Amazon Prime. It has its moments where it is entertaining, but overall it’s a Guy Ritchie film wannabe, with a messy plot, that fails on many levels, and is only saved by Taron Egerton’s good looks and a snarky Friar Tuck.

Overall Grade: D+

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Director: Luca Guadagnino
Writers: David Kajganich, Dario Argento (characters), Daria Nicolodi (characters)
Stars: Dakota Johnson, Tilda Swinton, Mia Goth, Chloë Grace Moretz, Elena Fokina

Synopsis: A darkness swirls at the center of a world-renowned dance company, one that will engulf the artistic director, an ambitious young dancer, and a grieving psychotherapist. Some will succumb to the nightmare. Others will finally wake up.

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“Love and manipulation, they share houses very often. They are frequent bedfellows.” – Dr. Josef Klemperer

In this case, that house could be the Markos Dance Academy itself, or even all of 1977 Berlin, which saw the events of the German Autumn and the kidnappings by the Red Army Faction (RAF). These acts were carried out due to anti-imperialist beliefs, and those notions challenging colonialism run through Luca Guadagnino’s Suspiria. This is barely a remake, and despite dancing around the bare bones of Dario Argento’s 1977 giallo classic (with a nice historical tribute to Argento’s film setting this one during that same year), Guadagnino has made a different film with a different agenda, from gothic horror to social nightmare. It’ll also make you squirm, whether you like it or not.

Like Argento’s film, Suspiria follows one Susie Bannion (this time played by the always commanding Dakota Johnson), now running from her Mennonite family in Ohio to join to a mysterious dance academy run by Tilda Swinton’s Madame Blanc (one of at least three characters she portrays here). Ballet takes on two forms here, artistic expression and (of all things) witchcraft, and it’s clear that this academy would be more accurately defined as a coven. This coven suggests its own imperialistic battle between the women who govern it, challenging each other over who should maintain control; a horrific curse against one such opposition (Olga, played by Elena Fokina) leads to a bone-crushing ballet sequence that’ll make the queasiest of people pass out, an agonizing example of the film’s glorious aesthetics.

The social and political parallels may be quite clear, but are nonetheless felt. Susie is perhaps running from her own history of religious colonialism and abuse, or maybe that’s just how she perceives it to be. Perhaps a similar history can be shared among the women of this coven, leading them to act out in the ways that they do. With this in mind, it’s no coincidence that Suspiria is a female dominated film, depicting those who feel the need to offer strength and protection amongst each other, and rightfully so, given our current social climate; a through-line within the film asks people to “believe women”, openly enforcing the film’s notions on femininity. This is further explored through the film’s only prominent male character, Dr. Josef Klemperer (Tilda Swinton again), who attempts to intervene for those seeking outside help; he is driven by guilt due to the tragic political history involving his late wife, and Swinton’s performance provides a pathos that lingers from the film’s opening scene to its concluding epilogue. I think we can finally acknowledge that Tilda Swinton is in fact a chameleon.

Films with this much ambition are easily respected and appreciated, but not always perfect; thankfully Suspiria works much more than it doesn’t. It does, however, stumble in some of its editing choices, particularly during Act One, where it seems clear that Guadagnino had initially shot a much longer film and was pressed for keeping things within a reasonable running time; an initial conversation between Klemperer and Patricia (Chloë Grace Moretz), for instance, seems constantly interrupted by insert shots in order to shorten the actual conversation, and it can feel distracting. The final act as well (Act Six) also wraps up many of the film’s central themes with a revelation that narratively seems to come out of nowhere, even when it is surrounded by a most over-the-top climax that could have veered dangerously close to self-parody. But somehow Guadagnino makes it work emotionally; Suspiria is once again a very sensory experience (with nightmare sequences that sear to the brain), and his use of music (courtesy of the great Thom Yorke) mysteriously gives that final act dramatic validity that would have seemed impossible on paper (the song “Unmade” in particular is hauntingly gorgeous).

As an interconnected tale of imperialism, emotional manipulation, and femininity, Luca Guadagnino’s Suspiria is one social nightmare of a movie, one that marries 1977 Berlin with witchcraft as a means of granting one their free will. Perhaps these witches were once victims of abuse in their own respective ways, only to now become inadvertent culprits of those same colonial and dominating ways within their own coven; and how ironic that it’s a certain “goddess of death” that intervenes and grants these women the freedom to govern themselves.

Dance everyone, dance. It’s so beautiful.

Overall Grade: B+

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Hear our podcast review on Episode 298

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Director: Phil Johnston, Rich Moore
Writers: Rich Moore, Phil Johnston, Jim Reardon, Pamela Ribon, Josie Trinidad
Stars: John C. Reilly, Sarah Silverman, Gal Gadot

Synopsis: Six years after the events of “Wreck-It Ralph,” Ralph and Vanellope, now friends, discover a wi-fi router in their arcade, leading them into a new adventure.

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Disney has been recently acquiring the rights to entertainment companies like Marvel, Lucasfilm, and soon Fox. This monopoly over a mass amount of pop culture and beloved fandoms has had a lot of people worried what Disney is going to do with them. Ralph Breaks the Internet is a fantastic example of what good came come of it.

This movie is packed full of references and easter eggs for all ages. I saw all my favorite Disney princesses, lolcats, Jason Mantzoukas, and references to video games I’d completely forgotten I had as a kid (Twisted Metal). I need to watch it at home, 5 feet from my tv, pressing pause every two seconds to find everything Disney threw in there. It follows our heroes from the first film, Ralph (John C. Reilly) and Vanellope (Sarah Silverman), as they explore the internet to save Vanellope’s game from being unplugged for good. During their adventures they encounter Ebay, Oh My Disney, Google, YouTube, Pinterest, ClickBait, Spam, and everything else you can imagine is on the internet and is appropriate for children.

The film includes many of the same characters from the first film and adds a handful of new ones. My favorites being Taraji P. Henson as Yesss the algorithm and Alan Tudyk as the search engine KnowsMore. Gal Gadot also makes an appearance as Shank – a character that reminds me of her role in the Fast and the Furious series. Most of the cameo roles are also voiced by their original actors. I loved how they managed to include so many well-known characters and pop culture references and the film was sill coherent and watchable. This movie could have easily turned into a gigantic, confusing, Disney mess.

Another positive for me were the messages embedded in the film. They managed to slip in tips on good internet behavior / etiquette while explaining about trolls and bullies. The overall theme was about being a good friend, feeling insecure, and how to not let that hold each other back. It was cute and well done. The animation techniques continue to amaze me. I watched the first movie about two hours before seeing the sequel and love the transition between retro and modern art styles. They continue that back and forth in this film with the added challenge of Pixar, classic Disney, and Marvel characters.

I can’t think of any negatives for this movie. The mass amount of advertisements, product placement, and references to other Disney characters might be a bit much for some. But that aspect of the film is made very clear in the trailers, so if you don’t like that sort of thing, then this movie probably isn’t for you… My stepdad who can’t stand animated movies, and has a specific distaste for Disney, actually saw this with me and laughed out loud many times. I don’t think he’ll admit to “liking” the movie but he will say it’s “not bad”.

Overall I think Ralph Breaks the Internet is a great film for kids and adults. It has a positive message, a wide array of nerd references to look for, and is genuinely fun to watch. It’s definitely another contender for Best Animated Feature so it will be interesting to see how that plays out this awards season. Until then, I will probably go see it again. If you choose to see it in theaters please, please stay until the very end of the credits.

Overall Grade: A

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Hear our podcast review on Extra Film soon!

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Director: Steve McQueen
Writers: Gillian Flynn, Steve McQueen; Lynda La Plante (based on)
Stars: Viola Davis, Elizabeth Debicki, Michelle Rodriguez, Cynthia Erivo, Colin Farrell, Brian Tyree Henry, Daniel Kaluuya, Carrie Coon

Synopsis: Set in contemporary Chicago, amid a time of turmoil, four women with nothing in common except a debt left behind by their dead husbands’ criminal activities, take fate into their own hands, and conspire to forge a future on their own terms.

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When the widows come knocking — masked and armed — the right thing to do is to roll out the carpet that leads to the safe.

Simply put, Widows is a ride. The film is your favorite theme park’s “deceitful attraction,” one that abandons its minimal-in-thrills guise the moment it’s in motion. Imagine boarding one of those teacups and then discovering there are boosters on the sides — that is how it is going to be from minute one. As for accompanying music? It will be commentaries both potent and pointed (and give merit to the argument that 20th Century Fox has mistimed this film’s release i.e. after midterms).

This Widows is a feature-film, Chicago-set version of the 1983 British series, and on a similar no it asks you to cross out all the husbands from the get-go. After some hurried morning embraces and equally so breakfasts, the four men are off to procure cash, illegally and with artillery, not knowing that today will be their last time. Melancholy promptly comes knocking on the wives’ door, of course, and for one of them — Veronica Rawlings (Viola Davis) — there is that plus politically tinged menace in the form of Jamal Manning (a masterfully intimidating Brian Tyree Henry) and his hitman brother Jatemme (a freaky Daniel Kaluuya). Per Jamal’s telling, the heist that Veronica’s husband (Liam Neeson) led was supposed to add $2 million to his campaign coffers, which should give him an edge over a legacy politician (Colin Farrell, properly weaselly), and since the cash isn’t here it’s now her job. With that much danger and threat, she won’t do it alone…

The four leads — Davis, Michelle Rodriguez, Elizabeth Debicki and Cynthia Erivo — are living winds, brewing affecting storms when the stacked script from Gillian Flynn and director Steve McQueen approaches chaotic beats or jolting gusts in calmer times. That said, it’s easy (yet wonderful!) to not sure which is which when the surprises arrive, which are gasp-inducing by design but — true to McQueen’s style — are delivered without any fluff. Davis and Debicki are the definite highlights in the cast here; as Veronica, the former capable of discreetly turning others’ underestimation into a power source and make that hoping of reaping what’s sown into a surety. Regarding Debicki, there is much engrossment to be found in seeing her Alice evolving from a frail heron — she is abused by both her mother (Jacki Weaver, rechanneling her Animal Kingdom days) and her husband (Jon Bernthal) — to one who can use that image to conquer the opposition.

Through that, however, the commentaries shine. Widows is a “heist film,” true, but during the planning it has the means to prove that it’s more; certain beats replicate first-page headlines and, in the bigger picture, an increasingly devastating transactional culture. In moments addressing these McQueen displays more ease and elegance. Brief flashbacks shock. What begins as a one-take that’s semi-confounding from a technical standpoint ends as a potent visual thesis on the ripples of corrupted power plays. Not that the grander set pieces aren’t affecting — credit to McQueen’s upfront style — but in this area the signs of unfamiliarity are seen. They’re fleeting, thankfully, since backing the director are Joel Walker and his smart editing plus Sean Bobbitt who dips every frame in contemporary grit.

Though worlds apart, Widows is in the same neighborhood with First Man (which our writer, Ryan McQuade, loved) as a quality show that is struggling at the box office. How odd, seeing there is no flag-in-absentia incident or anything of the sort to scream at? Whatever the case, the film’s current performance reflects a willingness to let anything coming for your wallet instead of those who, like these widows, will do that through thrilling movements and edifying conversations.

Overall Grade: A-

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Hear our podcast review on Episode 300:

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