Director: Adam Volerich
Writer: Leo Winters
Stars: Jefferson White, Shawn Christensen, Siobhan Fallon Hogan

Synopsis: At a struggling New York dive bar in the days leading up to Christmas 2019, Chet, a beleaguered bartender in a state of extended arrested development, must balance caring for his misanthropic, aging regulars – who have nowhere else to go, and rely on him for far more than pouring drinks – with his naive desires to muster some Christmas spirit.

Drink and Be Merry arrives just in time for the season when sentimentality flows as freely as cheap mulled wine. The film roots itself in a dingy New York dive bar, a place where the tinsel looks a bit tired, the lights flicker, and it lacks holiday cheer. So Drink and Be Merry is one for those more cynical Christmas viewers, wanting a little more true grit on their festive screens. 

Drink and Be Merry sets its story in the final days before Christmas 2019, and follows Chet, a bartender who seems to be living in a holding pattern he can’t quite name. Played by Jefferson White (Yellowstone), Chet is earnest, well-meaning, and perpetually exhausted, and White brings warmth to the role and is the reason to keep watching.

Chet’s bar is populated by an assortment of aging, misanthropic regulars who treat the place as something between a sanctuary and a personal dumping ground. These are not the lovable eccentrics of a traditional holiday comedy; they’re cranky and occasionally intolerable, but there’s something you like about them. Very early on, there is a section where some women come into the bar, and the men all look confused, and there’s a pause. Chet then doesn’t have the ingredients for a cocktail, so Vodka Sodas it is. Reaffirming this is a bog-standard dive bar. Subtle and great storytelling. This is where you get a glimpse into the subtle humor throughout. 

The characters are naturally funny in the way everyday people often are: unintentionally, or simply out of sheer human absurdity. Chet’s attempts to summon even a flicker of Christmas spirit are met with blank stares, insults, and plain refusals. The regulars aren’t interested in transformation; they’re just trying to get through the season in one piece. Siobhan Fallon Hogan, Delaney Williams, Brian Anthony Wilson, and Shawn Christensen round out the ensemble with performances that lean into the characters’ abrasiveness while revealing small, surprising wells of vulnerability. Everyone has believable chemistry; you’ll feel as if these men have been at this bar for years, basically part of the crappy furniture. 

The film’s central tension lies in Chet’s growing awareness that his bar is on the brink of closing, and to his punters, he’s not just their bartender. He’s their sounding board, caretaker, reluctant therapist, and in some cases, their only consistent point of human contact. The weight of that responsibility presses on him as Christmas approaches, and there seems to be no way out. Jefferson White delivers a fantastic performance, blending vulnerability and strength and soaking up every moment on screen. 

Visually, Drink and Be Merry embraces the cramped intimacy of the bar. The entire film takes place mainly in this one setting, which is pretty impressive. The only other setting is a small bedroom/apartment. The claustrophobic settings keep the focus on the characters, who are constantly bumping up against each other both physically and emotionally. Despite the cold dispositions of everyone in the bar, the bright lights and Christmas music build a festive vibe. The colors have a very warm tone to them – it’s a bar that’s inviting, despite only one or two customers being in it at one time. 

If the film falters anywhere, it’s in its occasional hesitance to push deeper into the messiest corners of its characters’ lives. There are hints at darker histories and unresolved grief that sometimes feel skimmed over. And it’s a simple story, easy to follow, and keeps a solid pace throughout. Viewers might find the film slow, lacking in action, and needing more conflict for a memorable and meaningful resolution.

Drink and Be Merry lands somewhere between melancholy and hope. After Christmas, in his bar, Chet sees a future going back to acting classes and a world beyond the responsibilities he’s burdened himself with. But a regular in the bar isn’t in his usual spot. Looking around an empty bar, still covered in Christmas lights, Chet’s reflective on what is next for him and his life. In its modest way, the film captures something true about the season: that sometimes the best we can do is gather in a place that feels familiar, raise a glass, and make it through together.

Grade: C

Director: Bryan Fuller
Writer: Bryan Fuller
Stars: Mads Mikkelsen, Sigourney Weaver, David Dastmalchian

Synopsis: An eight-year-old girl asks her scheming neighbor for help in killing the monster under her bed that she thinks ate her family.

The biggest fear most children have at a young age is wondering if there is a monster under the bed. More often than not, we would ask our parents to check there or in the closet, in case something was ready to pop out and either give us nightmares for life or eat us up. But what if there was indeed a monster under the bed and it actually did want to eat everything in its path? This–among other things–is the question posed by Dust Bunny, the directorial debut from Bryan Fuller (Hannibal).

The plot is simple: Aurora (Sophie Sloan) is a 10-year-old girl living in New York City who is fully convinced that her home is haunted by a monster under the bed that comes out at night to try and eat her. This thought is escalated by the sudden death of her parents, who she believes was killed by the monster in the middle of the night. She eventually has to move around the house in a rowing hippo, afraid that she will be eaten if she steps foot on the floor. Taking matters into her own hands, Aurora decides to enlist the help of her neighbor (Mads Mikkelsen), who she sees fight monsters as a skilled hitman and believes could kill her own monster.

Dust Bunny often feels like the moments in Bill Watterson’s Calvin and Hobbes strips where Calvin checks if there’s a monster under the bed and hears or sees no one, but then they make a noise or move something on the bed to give themselves away. Given how vibrant Calvin’s imagination is, readers can flip a coin on whether or not the monsters are in fact real, or if Calvin’s tiger Hobbes is even real, and much of that plays into the ongoings of Dust Bunny as well. Aurora believes it without question, and wants to convince others of the fact, but often to no avail. Her neighbor–referred only to as Resident 5B–is still fascinated by the notion however, and does decide to look into it, leading to an incredibly entertaining flick that’s as charming and funny as it is often intense and unsettling.

Where Dust Bunny succeeds a lot is in its clever and inventive visuals. Fuller fills the movie with tons of visual gags and surreal props to make Aurora’s reality even more fantastical (watch out for the chicken lamp), while built over something that is definitely much darker and sinister beneath, and very much tapping into the childlike wonder of the situation, which increasingly becomes more sinister as the movie progresses, and the line between what is real and what might not be becomes more blurred, albeit in some incredibly unexpected ways. The movie is incredibly colorful, with some vibrant cinematography from Nicole Hirsch Whitaker and stylized violence where blood is either confetti, and the often wacky production design with maze-like homes and restaurants shown throughout, amplified by Aurora’s perspective of everything. Adding to that is Isabella Summers’ score that also brings the emotional beats and the bizarre New York City to life in truly fantastical ways.

Sophie Sloan conveys all those feelings wonderfully, giving a great performance and holding her own terrifically next to Mads Mikkelsen, who plays the assassin next door in a cold and calculated manner, but one who cannot help but be charmed and curious about what Aurora claims exists while helping her. The two have hilarious chemistry throughout as they navigate different facets of the underworld trying to find answers, even when the people they interact with become increasingly more evil, including a very fun turn from Sigourney Weaver who plays a mob boss trying her best to keep up with everything and get Resident 5B away from this situation.

When the action does go down, Fuller directs it in the most amusing ways, with everything given a more kid-friendly approach so Aurora doesn’t have to witness something too intense, with not a single drop of blood spilled (at least, not that she can see) and everything looking more like a comic panel than often. The more creepy moments as Aurora wakes up at night to the monster under her bed becoming bigger and angrier are also incredibly well done, with a very effective blend of practical effects and CGI throughout. Towards the third act, these hit exhilarating highs and lead to some lovely use of said practical effects and even solid puppetry, and even more clever use of the malleable sets present in the movie.

Could Dust Bunny delve a bit more into what led to everything with Aurora and her family? Perhaps, as the movie does allude often to a shadier past with her parents and what may have really gone down with them, and the story doesn’t look into that aspect as much as it hints at past a certain point, or what else is going on with Resident 5B and his line of work, but by the end, Dust Bunny is so much fun and so charming in its execution that it is able to overcome those minor flaws and result in an entertaining experience that is definitely worth a watch. Make sure to look under the bed after seeing it though, just in case.

Grade: A-

Director: Matt Danner
Writer: Jeff Kinney
Stars: Aaron D. Harris, Chris Diamantopoulos, Bashir Salahuddin

Synopsis: Greg continually finds himself at odds with his dad’s outsized expectations. As pressure builds to turn his act around after a series of hilarious near disasters, Greg’s dad presents him with an ultimatum—and a trip to wilderness camp—that just might challenge Greg’s wimpy ways for good.

While watching Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Christmas Cabin Fever in 2023, a feeling of dread slowly started creeping into me, as I suddenly realized, “Disney can’t be making these flimsy animated movies forever, can they?” Because the animated transpositions of Jeff Kinney’s popular book series took a one-year hiatus in 2024, I had foolishly thought The Mouse had put an end to what could’ve been a promising way to adapt Kinney’s work, without having to recast live-action actors as they grow old consistently, but it was ultimately disappointing endeavor that served to only mindlessly adapt the books, without trying anything different outside of its surface. The prior live-action works (minus The Long Haul) had a massive cultural imprint, as they were released a few years after the books took off. The animated franchise has never been able to recapture the same feeling, preferring to illustrate its bevy of humorous stories with the laziest, second-rate designs possible, without meaningfully expanding upon Kinney’s text.

There’s very little creativity in these movies, and the task of watching these admittedly short installments seems more like a chore than something you look forward to every holiday season. This latest effort, a semi-adaptation of The Last Straw, is just as boring as the other three entries in Disney’s most unimpressive modern-day animated works. That said, credit needs to be given to director Matt Danner (who previously helmed the unwatchable Night at the Museum: Kahmunrah Rises Again for the streamer) for at least trying to make Greg Heffley’s (Aaron D. Harris) latest adventure more expressive in its stretching and squashing than the desire to be animated but never do anything with the medium of the first three movies of this “reboot.” 

The animation flows much better – and is more vivid – in sequences where Greg’s “wimpy” antics blow out of proportion, which makes this entry more serviceable than the last films we got out of this series, meant to promote Kinney’s books but did nothing genuinely interesting with them. Kinney once again takes screenwriting duties, and his words aren’t as sharp (or resonant) as they are in his books, because the film lacks any form of verve, even if Danner is more interested in making this animated entry feel like…*checks notes*…an animated movie than the previous filmmakers who were tapped to helm these forgettable titles and did nothing with the prospect of an animated adaptation of these highly imaginative books. 

It still doesn’t change the fact that these movies aren’t remotely good, and this latest installment isn’t either, although it has a more concise story than the previous three movies, deciding to focus on Greg’s relationship with his father, Frank (Chris Diamantopoulos), rather than other characters from the books. For example, Greg’s friendship with Rowley (Jude Zarzuar) falls by the wayside, while Danner and Kinney further flesh out how Greg and Frank feel towards each other. Frank wants to send his son to military school so he can be whipped into shape, while Greg gives his father an ultimatum: if he reaches the badge of Woodchipper Elite at his Scouting club, he’s off the hook. If not, he’ll accept his Father’s choice to send him to Spag Union, the military academy.

Of course, several antics ensue, but they’re all indifferently bland, even if Danner’s semi-piquant style is more energetic than the previous three entries of this franchise. For once, there’s movement and attempts at expressivity. That said, it’s completely far removed from Disney’s current big-screen animated effort, Zootopia 2, which stimulates the senses for both young and old moviegoers alike in frequently jaw-dropping ways. There isn’t a single image in the animated Diary of a Wimpy Kid franchise, apart from Kinney’s hand-drawn drawings transposed to the screen, that stays with us. It’s a series of mindlessly forgettable motion pictures that undoubtedly serve as “second screen” entertainment, where the primary goal is to distract children for an hour and 15 minutes or so, rather than giving them something substantial to be transported by. 

Story-wise, it’s as “been there, done that” as you think, unable to bring its message home more effectively than simple morals that will leave your head as soon as they enter. There’s rarely anything of note in this, other than a light chuckle or two when Danner (or Kinney) reference more popular IPs, making you yearn to watch these titles instead of wasting your time with movies that haven’t improved, four entries in, and likely won’t, since they keep churning them out rapidly, as if audiences are clamoring for them when less and less of them are tuning in with each passing installment. 

Kids deserve so much better than this. The fact that parents will put them in front of a television to show them anything destined for children, as if their minds can’t comprehend what they’re seeing, is honestly contemptuous. They’re much smarter than you think and more averse to the world they’re living in than adults who were once in their shoes but have seemingly forgotten the magic of discovering life before it dawned upon them that this world is actually much harsher than they think. A film like Zootopia 2 will remind them of the joys of rediscovering cinema, as kids learn the true power of image-making and are consistently dazzled by what directors Byron Howard and Jared Bush put on the screen. A movie like Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Last Straw will do the exact opposite. They’ll be momentarily distracted, sure, but will they like what they’re seeing? Will it have any lasting impact? Let’s talk in two weeks from now…

Grade: D-

Directors: Hélène Cattet, Bruno Forzani
Writers: Hélène Cattet, Bruno Forzani
Stars: Fabio Testi, Manon Beuchot, Yannick Renier

Synopsis: A retired spy suspects his former adversaries have resurfaced when his intriguing neighbor vanishes.

I would be lying if I said I understood everything about Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani’s Reflection in a Dead Diamond. In fact, everyone outside of the filmmakers probably would be. As confusing the narrative may be, it doesn’t take away from the style and substance the film delivers.

Fabio Testi stars as John Diman, a retired spy living in luxury on the French Riviera. Seeing his beautiful neighbor, John’s memories of his spy life in the ‘60s are rekindled. Young John (Yannick Renier) is tasked with protecting Markus Strand (Koen De Bouw) from a killer alongside his partner, Cantatrice (Kézia Quental). When Cantatrice disappears, John must piece together what happened while evading a killer named Serpentik.

Without giving too much away, there is much more to it than that. The story begins as a Bond tribute of a man looking back on the failings of his past, only for shocking bits of ultraviolence and reveals to twist the narrative into something completely different. At one point, you aren’t even sure John was a spy, but maybe was actually a movie star in a Bond-like franchise. Then again, maybe he was and this is the work of a more nefarious agent. When the film ends, there are certainly no definitive answers.

Instead, the film disorients while entertaining. Flashes of madmen in madness, memory-infused sequin dresses, layers upon layers of rubber masks, and dozens of other memorable images assault the senses. Even the action scenes invoke a sense of misunderstandings and bait-and-switches, mixed with an occasionally shocking amount of ultraviolence. At times, the audience is unaware what is a memory, a film scene, a hallucination, a dream, or a fantasy.

But understanding isn’t as important as experiencing. It’s completely possible (though, I believe unlikely), the filmmakers don’t actually care to present a coherent throughline and story and want to keep you guessing. This is certainly the type of film to become a candidate for cult classic status, only to be dissected and analyzed for years to come. But, don’t let the confusion turn you away. The Bond reference (and reverence) is enough to set you on the path to enjoying yourself. While the film does not have direct correlation to any spy genre, it pays homage and parodies all of those films.

While not playing the character in the present, Renier is the runaway star of the film. Balancing the debonair spy attitude with dashing good looks, but also a streak of insanity, the Belgian actor looks, acts, and lives the role. As a testament to his devotion, Renier never blinks at the insanity the filmmakers ask of him. This film marks his highest profile film in the United States, he stands a good chance of becoming the next international breakout star. In a supporting role, De Bouw paints a devilish picture as the erstwhile villain while Quental paints an indelible picture of the doomed female spy equivalent to John.

Testi does a fine job as the elder John, languishing in memories and possible psychosis in his modern-day luxury. Maria de Medeiros is the most famous face to American audiences, showing up to deliver a scene-stealing late-film performance. Every actor is equally committed to their roles and each excel. Reflection in a Dead Diamond might be confusing and alienating, but if you let the iconography and intrigue take you in, you might find yourself overwhelmed and enhanced by the experience.

Grade: B

Director: Jim O’Hanlon
Writers: Jimmy Carr, Patrick Carr, Andrew Dawson, Steve Dawson, Tim Inman
Stars: Damian Lewis, Tom Felton, Thomasin McKenzie

Synopsis: A new porter forms an odd bond with the youngest daughter of a well-known UK family. As the Davenport family, headed by Lord and Lady Davenport, deals with the epic disaster of the wedding of their eldest daughter to her caddish cousin.

Parody can be subtle like a hint of something in the background. It can also be blunt and sit on your chest like an overly large dog who instead of woofing, shouts, “Did you get it?” over and over again. Movie parodies are especially difficult to maneuver. In the ’80s heyday of the genre, they rarely referenced the films they were skewering directly, but built a story around the concept of the original with gags that were simultaneously clever, stupid, and crass. In more recent outings like the “[Blank] Movie” movies of the ’00s the parody is overt, often putting direct analogs from the films they’re skewering into a very heavy gag and non-existent story structure. Fackham Hall attempts to straddle these types of parody with varying degrees of success.

The film has genuine moments of humor. There are several funny gags or line readings that will make you chuckle, but it often relies heavily on crass gags. If you’re a person who likes your silly comedies with more wit, you’ll find with Fackham Hall you get more… toilet humor. It would be one thing if the film relied so much on the low brow, that has its merits as well, but these aren’t new lowbrow jokes, they’re stale and boring. Most of these gags feel cribbed from much better and far more interesting films. Fackham Hall feels very lazy in that way.

The actors, who can pull off some funny bits, also seem to forget to deliver their lines with a bit more sincerity because their characters shouldn’t know they’re in a comedy. Most of them deliver the lines with a bit of a goofy look on their faces, so the gag falls flat. While most of the principal cast have been in comedies before, they aren’t used to this type of comedy or delivery. They rush to get the lines out and when they pause behind it, it’s awkwardly long because they’re hoping for a laugh in that space. But that space becomes a place where our brain catches up with an, “Oh, right, that’s funny,” while it waits for the next gag.

The filmmaking itself, directed by Jim O’Hanlon, is very close to its source material. He and cinematographer Philipp Blaubach have the sweeping vistas of the great manor and the crowded party scenes well in hand. There’s one incredible special effects gag in the film that these two pull off very well. Eric (Ben Radcliffe) is wanting to show up the boorish Archie (Tom Felton) and so he takes the rifle Archie claims is defective and aims it at a beer bottle. It looks as though Eric has missed, but then we’re given the POV of the bullet as it lights a cigarette, ricochets off the dome of a serving tray, back the way it came to open a bottle of champagne, break the original bottle and land in the gun’s chamber with a smug Eric smiling down at Archie. It’s one of the best gags in the film and it feels fresh because of how they shot the scene.

That’s Fackham Hall‘s biggest problem. It feels so stale to parody Downton Abbey, Gosford Park, and other between the wars, class struggle stories. The prime of these stories was about twenty years ago. We’re well past when this parody would have been relevant. Sure the “final” Downton Abbey film was just in theaters a few months ago, but even then, the cultural moment has long passed it by. The concept is as stale as the comedy within.

It’s difficult to judge a film like this as comedy is a very subjective medium. There are going to be many people who laugh heartily at this film. There will be people who believe this film is a terrific time. If you like purely dumb comedy and just want to laugh at something silly, then more power to you. For those of us who have seen Airplane and other classic parodies, this film will feel too much like those. Worse, it feels like the used gum you step in on the street the day you wear your new sneakers. It’s gross and annoying.

Grade: D

Director: David Freyne
Writer: Patrick Cunnane, David Freyne
Stars: Miles Teller, Elizabeth Olsen, Callum Turner

Synopsis: In an afterlife where souls have one week to decide where to spend eternity, Joan is faced with the impossible choice between the man she spent her life with and her first love, who died young and has waited decades for her to arrive.

“What happens when we die?” is a question that has plagued humanity since the dawn of time. There are all kinds of answers to this: a place in the clouds opens up, a reincarnation takes place, nothing at all, and the list goes on. Unfortunately, no one can really know the answer to the question because one only finds out when it’s time. Eternity, directed by David Freysne, answers this in its own way: a transit station where people who have passed on decide where to go next.

Larry and Joan (Barry Primus and Betty Buckley) have been married for 65 years, with a loving family surrounding them as they go about their lives. However, one day at a party, Larry dies and lands up in the transit station as his younger self (Miles Teller) and is given a week to decide what eternity he would like to spend the rest of his soul’s life in. Later, Joan arrives as her younger self as well (Elizabeth Olsen) and to her surprise, finds out that not only is Larry there waiting for her, but so is Luke (Callum Turner), Joan’s first husband who died 67 years ago in the Korean War and has been waiting since then for her. What results is a love triangle between the three as Joan has to decide who to spend eternity with before time runs out as, in the Afterlife transit hub, everyone only has a week to figure out where they go.

In many ways, the premise of Eternity is a nightmare to imagine, where someone meets the multiple loves of their life and all interacting with each other, and having to then figure out who to be with going forward. This is something even the movie acknowledges, having every scenario looked at skeptically as everyone from Joan to the Afterlife Coordinators Anna and Ryan (Da’Vine Joy Randolph and John Early) weigh the pros and cons of Larry and Luke, while knowing full well how awkward and bizarre the situation is. The result is a slew of very entertaining performances from the entire cast, with hilarious work from Teller and Turner who try their best to win Joan’s affection, and Olsen has a really great time here trying to navigate the situation while time runs out. The scene stealers however are Randolph and Early, providing some of the funniest line deliveries and charming character turns of the movie, as they continue to compete against each other and try to make cases for Larry and Luke. As Joan goes on trips to the two potential eternities with them and both husbands confess their love for her, the romance and love is captured between them very effectively, and the sentimentality in those moments comes through in spades.

Freysne also plays into the self awareness and bizarre nature of Eternity well, with the Afterlife Hub shown like a convention floor that offers multiple different eternities to enter along with brochures to explain how they work, and advertisements on TVs that further embrace their silliness and euphoria, and even looking into eternities that are either too full or deactivated because of demand or being outdated. The production design and creativity on display is sublime, and the cinematography is incredibly vibrant and colorful, exploring every facet of the Hub in quirky ways and providing a lot of visual comedy. The playful score by David Fleming underlines the world of Eternity further, providing an enchanting feeling to the proceedings. As a result, on many levels, the movie succeeds in being a charming romantic comedy.

Where it runs aground, however, is in its exploration of deeper ideas and stretching itself a little too thin towards the third act. At almost 2 hours, the movie eventually runs out of steam before it wraps and some of its darker themes and conflicts are only addressed in a surface level manner, and much of the charm and humor it was running on doesn’t work as well and even gets a bit repetitive. There is a more complex movie underneath Eternity, but it never fully gets to shine. However, thanks to its stellar cast and clever moments in the first two acts, it still manages to be a solid watch overall and a trip worth taking to the Afterlife.

Grade: B+

Director: Lee Sang-il
Writer: Satoko Okudera
Stars: Ryo Yoshizawa, Ryusei Yokohama, Ken Watanabe

Synopsis: Nagasaki, 1964 – After the death of his father, the leader of a yakuza gang, 14-year-old Kikuo is taken under the wing of a famous Kabuki actor. Alongside Shunsuke, the actor’s only son, he decides to dedicate himself to this traditional form of theatre. For decades, the two young men grow and evolve together – from acting school to the grandest stages – amid scandals and glory, brotherhood and betrayals… one of them will become the greatest Japanese master of the art of kabuki.

Lee Sang-il’s Kokuho begins with an intriguing premise, as the son of a yakuza leader is plucked out of a life of uncertainty and bloodshed to be trained by one of the best Kabuki actors in the world. Sang-il immediately grabs our attention by setting its main protagonist, Kikuo (played by Sōya Kurokawa and Ryo Yoshizawa), as an already burgeoning actor who wants to pursue a life away from what his father wants him to be, in a world full of violence where no one will truly flourish and perhaps not even live long enough to see any success through. He performs in front of actor Hanai Hanjiro II (Ken Watanabe), who is already impressed by his skills as a Kabuki performer, and asks his father to speak with him.

Sadly, this occurs during the day when a rival gang attacks and kills Kikuo’s father in cold blood. He first gains the upper hand and wants to show strength to his son, but is instead gunned down in front of him. The experience profoundly changes Kikuo, who is taken under the wing of Hanjiro, in an attempt to have his own son, Shunsuke (played by Keitatsu Koshiyama and Ryusei Yokohama), take the craft of Kabuki seriously. Shunsuke is set to become Hanai’s heir when he eventually passes away, but his head isn’t so much in the art as is Kikuo, who thinks that, despite his Yakuza tattoos, he has a future in this artform, The first hour or so of Sang-il’s film is genuinely impressive, shot with a deft eye that makes each Kabuki performance feel as textured as it would be in a cinema, with subtitles highlighting the significance of each drama and ensuring each audience member understands what the performers are doing on stage. 

In lesser hands, this would feel like handholding, but Sang-il and writer Satoko Okudera give enough context for audiences to latch onto the characters and the importance of their gestures. Each look, or stomping of the foot, means something in the broader context of the play, which cinematographer Sofian El Fani highlights with a show-stopping use of shadows and striking, eye-popping colors. Even during more subdued sections, El Fani’s use of contrasting colors imbues each image with more meaning than you’d expect. Sang-il and Okudera adapt the book of the same name by Shuichi Yoshida and visualize each element of Kikuo’s journey, who is eventually renamed Toichiro when adopted by Hanjiro, with enough intimacy to make us feel close to the character at all times. 

Close-ups are Sang-il’s preferred shot composition, especially when homing in on the subtle face shifts Kikuo/Toichiro performs, making us aware of what he’s conveying to the audience watching him on stage and to us, viewing the film. We quickly understand why his performance works, while Shunsuke’s acting lacks conviction, and this is where a rivalry begins to brew. It’s also where the movie starts to lose steam and barely recovers by the time it trudges to a slow and painstakingly obvious denouement, tracking the lives of both performers from the cradle to the grave, instead of choosing which elements are the most meaningful and will have enough dramatic potency to make a lasting impact in the eyes of the viewer. 

In some cases, this could be the preferred aesthetic approach for a decade-spanning drama, but Kokuho’s pacing is extremely slow, perhaps too slow to justify such a hefty, 174-minute-long runtime, especially when its latter half is nowhere near as interesting as its amazing first hour, where Yoshizawa acts in ways he was never able to within Japan before joining the project. Of course, we all know how great an actor Ken Watanabe is. That said, for many westerners, seeing fresh faces like Yoshizawa and Ryusei Yokohama express a litany of complex emotions the way they do will quickly sideline the veteran Japanese actor’s talents in favor of a younger generation finally making themselves known not only to a specific public, but to the world. 

It’s a shame, then, that Kokuho gets painfully conventional and pedestrian during a jarring shift in atmosphere that makes the film feel much longer than it actually is, and refuses to explore the interiority of the protagonists in the same fashion Sang-il did in the movie’s first half. It also sidelines most of the themes developed in that introductory section for a more traditional approach that continuously keeps us at a distance from the movie’s main characters, even though this is where the tension begins to heat between them, and their kinship becomes forever fractured…until it isn’t…until it is, and then it isn’t anymore. 

Motivations become unclear, the characters aren’t as intriguingly fleshed out as they were, and the most interesting aspects of Kokuho begin to fall by the wayside. There’s still much to like and parse in Japan’s official entry for the 98th Academy Awards, but it genuinely feels like one of the rare cases of a film being unable to justify its lengthy runtime, which is made clear by the time the movie reaches its hour mark, or when Watanabe’s Hanjiro becomes less critical to the picture. Watching Kokuho, I was reminded of Chen Kaige’s Farewell My Concubine, which Western critics may find similarities between, especially in how it explores most of the characters’ rawest emotions on the stage (it’s also just as long as Sang-il’s film), but the reason why that film was quickly hailed as a masterpiece was simple: it knew what to focus on and never stopped caring about anyone on screen. 

When Kokuho begins to lose sight of what it wants to talk about, the movie also begins to suffer. Sometimes, there’s a better – leaner – movie to make of this story, which likely would’ve provided a more considerable dramatic impact when it reaches its admittedly sobering conclusion, earning our tears naturally instead of pushing the old “now, cry” buttons. Sang-il’s ambition should still be admired, but the end result is far wobblier than I would’ve hoped.

Grade: B-

Director: Nicholas Hytner
Writer: Alan Bennett
Stars: Taylor Uttley, Ralph Fiennes, Emily  Fairn

Synopsis: A choral society’s male members enlist in World War I, leaving the demanding Dr. Guthrie to recruit teenagers. Together, they experience the joy of singing while the young boys grapple with their impending conscription into the army.

The Choral begins softly, almost tentatively, as if afraid to raise its voice. Then it gradually swells into something rich, layered, and unexpectedly resonant. At first glance, it’s a story about a struggling community choir in a northern English town. But underneath the harmonies lies a drama about loneliness, forgiveness, and the futility of war.

The film follows a choral society, during World War I, where men are being enlisted every day, leaving the chairmen no options but to hire demanding Dr. Guthrie to lead their beloved and respected choir. Dr. Guthrie has been living in Germany and many rumors surround him. His high expectations and artistic flair bring together a community to perform a reimagining of a beloved score by Elgar (The Dream of Geronitus).

The Choral does have a familiar standard “community band/choir comes together” formula, but that doesn’t make it any less enjoyable. When the choir falters, the emotions are messy. When they succeed, the victories feel earned, not engineered.

The pacing is gentle but assured; the story never rushes its characters into growth, which makes their breakthroughs all the more affecting. This all leads to the final performance from the choir, which is nothing short of breathtaking. It’s not performed anywhere grand, with no large audience, and this was more moving than expected. As they sing, actors dressed as soldiers are being shot (not literally) on stage, and it’s incredibly thought-provoking and moving. 

Whilst the film is uplifting and filled with small moments of joy and humor, there is an underlying theme of sadness. This is done in subtle ways, showing very real themes other films in the war genre have not. An example being where women are receiving letters of their loved ones passing, and audiences are given time to see and feel their reactions – living this harrowing experience with them.  

Ralph Fiennes as Dr. Guthrie is strong, poised, and professional. With small moments of vulnerability, his character is one you’d follow to the ends of the earth. Robert Emms, as his sidekick pianist, does a wonderful job as someone who doesn’t have to tell, we can just see his feelings and fears through subtle looks and moments. His scene as a conscientious objector is especially powerful. Jacob Dudman as Cylde, who returns bruised from war, is honest and sweet. He has one small monologue which grounds the film and is a reminder of the pain which is to come to other young choir members who are excited to turn 18 and serve their country. The rest of the large ensemble cast all do an excellent job in bringing the story to life and singing their hearts out.

It would be impossible to discuss The Choral without acknowledging its strong ties to Yorkshire, not just as a backdrop, but as a creative force. The rolling hills, village halls, and brick terraces do more than create atmosphere; they root the film in a place where the community is both fragile and fiercely protected. As someone from and living in Yorkshire, watching this film, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and comfort. However, the downside to this is that the film isn’t universal. If you’re not from Yorkshire some of the jokes might go over your head. 

Screen Yorkshire’s involvement in bringing The Choral to life is palpable in every frame. Their support for regional filmmaking has allowed stories like this one to flourish without being swallowed by more commercial pressures. Yorkshire has long been a fertile ground for authentic, character-driven drama, and the fact that productions of this calibre continue to choose the region is a testament to the talent, infrastructure, and landscapes it offers. If you’re looking for other Yorkshire-based films that showcase the gentleness and grit of its people, Kes, Brassed Off, and Rita Sue and Bob Too have to be added to your watch list. 

The final shot of three cheeky choir boys, in their army uniform, happily waving goodbye with glee, to faces filled with fear, is simply beautiful. The Choral is a film for those who enjoy the war genre, but instead of seeing bullets and battlefields, we see what it was like for those back home. Trying to live amongst change and chaos, and finding community and comfort in the power of music. The Choral is tender without being sentimental, hopeful without being naïve, and anchored by performances that feel quietly remarkable.

Grade: B+

Director: David C. Roberts, Billy Shebar
Writer: Billy Shebar, David C. Roberts, Trish Dalton
Stars: David Byrne, Ping Chong, Philip Glass

Synopsis: The boundary-breaking composer and performer Meredith Monk overcame a hostile critical establishment to become one of the great innovators of her generation. Now, Monk faces mortality: can such singular work be performed without her?

New York City, in the 1970s, was a dirty, grimy, dangerous, and bankrupt place. In certain places, it meant large lofts and offices for wannabe artists, musicians, and dancers to move in with cheap rent. Out came another generation of talent with original and thought-provoking content that would change how we see and hear things today. A lot of them don’t have the nationwide recognition they deserve, but they influenced many of those nationwide names we do know. Monk In Pieces brings us the story of one of those unsung artists, Meredith Monk.

The story begins with Monk’s childhood and how her career was influenced from the very start of her life. Diagnosed with a rare eye disorder in which the two eyes are not coordinated, her mother signed Monk up for Dalcroze Eurhythmics. It integrates music and movement, allowing the person to walk and move their body in unison. To Monk, this allowed her to develop a creativity where music is visual and dance perfectly fits in her style, reflecting how she sees and hears things. It allowed her to open her mind to do things out of the box and push the boundaries of how we look and hear things. 

Moving into Greenwich Village, Monk and her theater troupe began their interdisciplinary work in song and dance on stage and screen. We see through raw footage everything they work on, including two films that were basically extended music videos, continuing to pull out tricks from Monk’s past, and how much was never really covered by traditional media. It’s a stepping stone for each of her works with the side visits of her family and personal life, like how she’s in the same loft and her pet turtle from fifty years ago is alive, to interviewing her ex for insight of Monk’s off-stage life.

As Monk made her name in the 1970s and ‘80s, the documentary reveals how much the mainstream critics reviled her work while inspiring her contemporaries. Infamously, one review of The New York Times described Monk’s choreography as “a disgrace to the name of dancing.” Yikes. Tell that to David Byrne, who is interviewed and has always been a fan; just thinking about it, Byrne’s ideas as a solo artist and with The Talking Heads could not have been the way they are if it weren’t for Monk. Byrne credits her for a major scene from his film True Stories. In an archive interview, pianist Philip Glass even praises Monk when he says, “She, among all of us, was – and still is – the uniquely gifted one.”

Directors Billy Shebar and David C. Roberts have created a mosaic about a woman looked over and unheard of by the new generation (like me) that finally reaches its eclipse. The film ends with her in her 80s giving up her opera direction of Atlas, one of her more acclaimed works, for someone else to control as she realizes the end for her is near. Monk In Pieces is not a documentary that breaks down the context of her work and goes too deep into Meredith’s psyche, which is a shame because while someone may learn about her and the work she’s put into, the documentary only goes so far as it wants to in getting into the heart of Monk’s genius.

Follow me on X: @brian_cine (Cine-A-Man)

Grade: B-

Director: Emma Tammi
Writer: Scott Cawthon
Stars: Josh Hutcherson, Elizabeth Lail, Piper Rubio

Synopsis: One year has passed since the supernatural nightmare at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. Former security guard Mike has kept the truth from his 11-year-old sister, Abby, concerning the fate of her animatronic friends. When Abby sneaks out to reconnect with Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy, she sets into motion a terrifying series of events that reveal dark secrets about the true origin of Freddy’s.

Video game movies have been around for decades, but they’ve never reached the extreme heights of success within the film industry until very recently. From the slow rise of The Sonic the Hedgehog trilogy to the revitalization of Mortal Kombat in movies, videogame adaptations have clearly been on fire, and the mega success of the first Five Nights at Freddy’s, is no exception. The first film, despite its negative critical reception, was a smash success and was seen as a roaring comeback for the creator of the game series, Scott Cawthon. So of course, they were going to make a sequel, but unfortunately, Five Nights at Freddy’s 2 is even more of a pathetic attempt at a film adaptation than its predecessor. You can feel every moment of this sequel trying to up the ante in the scares and presentation, but it’s all let down by abysmal jumpscares, laughably bad dialogue, and a screenplay so focused on dumping as much game lore and references as possible that it barely resembles a complete film. The children and die-hard fans this sequel is clearly targeted for will likely be the only audiences appeased, but they deserve better than a sequel that insults their intelligence and easily cements itself as one of the year’s absolute worst films.

Five Nights at Freddy’s 2 picks up about one year after the events of the first, with Mike (Josh Hutcherson) still reeling from his experience at the long-abandoned Freddy’s Pizzeria, but he’s doing his best to help his sister Abby (Piper Rubio) and new friend from the previous film, Vanessa (Elizabeth Lail) forget about the trauma they all experienced. While Vanessa tries to get over the pain that her evil father, William Afton (Matthew Lilliard), inflicted upon her for so many years, Abby still misses the memories she formed with her animatronic friends. In the background of these events, unwanted guests lurking about in the original Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria and darker secrets about the past of Freddy’s are uncovered, surrounding yet another mysterious child death in the ‘80s. 

The central issue that destroys Five Nights at Freddy’s 2 from the get-go is the screenplay and story at its center. One would imagine that having the creator of the games himself as the sole screenwriter would yield, at the very least, more interesting results, but Cawthon’s script only seems concerned with pouring as much lore and easter eggs from the games as possible. For all its many faults, at least the first film had a clear semblance of basic plot developments and structure, but this sequel simply lacks interest and decides to dump monotonous, convoluted lore about the formation of other FNAF characters, like the marionette who acts as this film’s antagonist. Not only is the explanation of the marionette’s conceit preposterous, but it adds to the further problem of every character in this film acting as an exposition machine; every performance in the movie truly feels like an “in it for the paycheck” experience, and it only adds more to the tedious experience of watching the story unfold.

Then there’s the direction of the film itself, which has a whole other set of issues. Director Emma Tammi clearly wants to lean into more genre elements than the first film ever entertained, so it’s a shame that they’re so poorly conceived here. The film often uses the laziest loud jump scares imaginable to scare audiences, and there’s absolutely no innovation to be found in the horror besides ambient quiet followed by loud noises or crazy stuff flying at the screen. It remains the most annoying type of way to execute on elevating tension and is predictable nearly every time. Matters are not helped by the film’s PG-13 rating, which only hampers any potential terror that could be witnessed in the kills that are so clearly meant to be show-offs. 

To top it all off, as an irony of sorts, the film doesn’t even have an ending, choosing to instead leave jingling keys in front of the eyes of mega fans, teasing what’s next for the future, essentially encapsulating the core problem with this movie. FNAF 2 is only focused on teasing and providing for the fans first and actually forming a cohesive film second, and there’s a world where both can be done with balance to provide an experience that can be enjoyable to everyone, rather than a jumbled mess for anyone who isn’t initiated.

The sole positive aspect of this sequel, like the first, remains the great work done by Jim Henson’s creature shop on the titular animatronics, but Five Nights at Freddy’s 2 is devoid of quality in nearly every other aspect. From its baffling screenplay to its laughable attempts at scares and developments between these characters, this sequel is truly adrift and only exists to tease and jingle keys rather than providing anything else worthy of substance, cementing it as a truly hollow experience.

Grade: D-