Director: Chris Columbus
Writers: Katy Brand, Suzanne Heathcote
Stars: Pierce Brosnan, Helen Mirren, Ben Kingsley

Synopsis: Four irrepressible retirees spend their time solving cold case murders for fun, but their casual sleuthing takes a thrilling turn when they find themselves with a real whodunit on their hands.

As Netflix is getting ready to premiere Rian Johnson’s Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery at several fall festivals, just in time for Awards season, the streamer seems to have found a niche in viewers who enjoy watching crime comedies focused on a group of characters solving a murder. That’s why it feels natural that they would eventually end up adapting Richard Osman’s best-selling franchise, The Thursday Murder Club, a fun murder-mystery novel focusing on retirees who have a Thursday club focused on unsolved cases, set about solving the real-life murder of one of the owners of the retirement home they live in.

The group is comprised of individuals who each had particular skills that proved useful in solving cases before they retired. Former spy Elizabeth Best (Helen Mirren) leads the group, with union leader Ron Ritchie (Pierce Brosnan), psychiatrist Ibrahim Atif (Ben Kingsley), and recently retired nurse Joyce Meadowcroft (Celia Imrie) rounding out the club. The four enjoy their company inside Cooper’s Chase, which is more than a mere retirement home for them. It is an active community of retirees who are always there for each other, no matter what, even if co-owner Ian Ventham (David Tennant) wants to destroy the home and turn it into a luxury apartment complex.

However, his business partner, Tony Curran (Geoff Bell), vehemently opposes Ventham’s plan and prepares to fight against him. That is, until he is bludgeoned to death shortly after an altercation with Ventham. Of course, he becomes the primary suspect. However as the Thursday Murder Club uncovers more clues leading to Curran’s murder, they realize that something far more sinister is lurking behind the shadows waiting to be revealed that will turn this seemingly simple case into something no one could ever expect.

On paper, the idea sounds fun, and Columbus is undoubtedly a capable enough filmmaker who will bring this star-studded ensemble film to life. After all, his ensemble pictures, including Adventures in Babysitting, Home Alone, and the two Harry Potter films he directed, are among the highest-rated of his career. Yet, the filmmaker seems to be on autopilot, creating a visually and thematically dull murder-mystery that offers only sporadic surprises, while the rest of the picture is fairly pedestrian. If it weren’t for its cast seemingly having a good time, I would’ve checked out of Cooper’s Chase long ago.

Mirren, Brosnan (who were both excellent in Guy Ritchie’s MobLand, and so was Geoff Bell, by the way), Kingsley, and Imrie hold the glue together, alongside Naomi Ackie, whose resume this year continues to impress with a hugely entertaining turn as police officer Donna De Freitas, who helps the club find information on Curran’s murder that they don’t have in their possession. It’s because of them that we ultimately crawl to a particularly telegraphed ending, even if the screenplay by Katy Brand and Suzanne Heathcote never gives us a compelling reason to care about anyone on screen.

Worse yet, Don Burgess’ cinematography is as flat as most direct-to-streaming offerings, which is a true shame, considering the bevy of visually inventive movies he’s helped bring to life. Real cinemaheads will notice his collaborations with James Wan first, before discussing his longstanding partnership with Robert Zemeckis, especially given how horrid Here looked, while Wan’s filmography is visually unimpeachable. Sadly, the photography in The Thursday Murder Club is far too clean (especially its black-and-white cold open, which recalls the worst instincts of post-digital Zemeckis) to titillate imagination, even during sequences of high-spirited tension.

While these moments are sparse, there’s definitely a succession of thrills in its back half, where a mysterious third owner of Cooper’s Chase is revealed to Elizabeth. The cameo from a veteran actor is certainly welcomed and creates a disquieting sense of tension. However, it arrives way too late when the feeling of surprise has been completely evaporated and the movie reaches to a clumsy denouement without much attachment to anything occurring on screen. When one stops to think for a bit and parse what Columbus stages, none of it makes much sense, and is terribly underdeveloped, as many characters shift motivations or disappear entirely from the picture until a big reveal brings them back to the fold.

Although this section is rather unremarkable, nothing prepares for how distastefully staged its final scene is, giving a rather sour note to end another forgettable piece of “content” on. If it weren’t for its lively cast of characters giving life to this otherwise dour caper, The Thursday Murder Club could potentially be passed off as a Hallmark Original rather than the serious adaptation of a bestselling novel it wants to be. Now, only Rian Johnson can save Netflix from the dreary, anti-art slump the streamer has been producing for some time, despite having pedigreed talent attached to its projects. Will he be able to do it? Here’s hoping…

Grade: D+

Director: Toby Schwarz, Aizea Roca Berridi
Writer: Peter Dollinger, Tess Meyer, Marcus Sauermann
Stars: Lilly Graffam, Tom Zahner, Leonardo Lucero

Synopsis: Free spirited Heidi faces forces beyond her years to protect her Grandfather and the alpine wilderness she loves from a ruthless businessman and the hungry jaws of his new saw mill.

Adapting a classic work of art for modern times is not an easy task. Especially dealing with children’s literature, trying to eliminate problematic parts or ideas that don’t fit into today’s grander themes and empowering girlhood tropes. As beautiful as the original tale of Heidi is, this rendition is an excellent modernization and upgrade of the timeless classic tale. 

Proper introductions first; Heidi: Rescue of the Lynx is loosely based on Swiss author Johanna Spyri’s ageless classic. It has many of the themes in the original book, but takes a dramatic shift in its representation. Heidi is not illiterate, a key important message to send to young girls nowadays if we want them to cling to her image as their animated movie hero. Her grandfather is not a misogynistic villain, but a grumpy recluse who takes good care of her and stands up for his village, Dörfli, refusing the intrusion of an industrialist stranger willing to destroy the nature of the alpine meadows. 

Heidi is no longer a people-pleasing Pollyanna. In this version of the story, she has intelligent conversations with her grandpa, she plans to travel and see her best friend, Klara. But Heidi’s real adventure starts when she rescues a little lynx kitten from a trap, nursing him, and warning the entire village from the greedy Mr. Schnaittinger who intends to graft the resources of this idyllic alpine village and ruin it with the industrialization plans, killing its natural life and imbalancing its ecosystem in the process. 

Heidi and her grandpa embody the hero’s journey in all its complexity and honor. Events intensify when Heidi decides to return Pepper to his natural habitat, and her grandpa defies the shady Schnaittinger. The plot thickens and the characters embark on separate mini journeys where their paths cross but don’t collide. Heidi retains her individuality, independent of any of the male figures in her life, even her grandpa, who has a growth arc and a redemption tale of his own to follow. But Heidi stands up for herself, her grandpa, and the entire community, showcasing her active role in changing the course of actions in this small town, taking her grandpa’s firm stance against industrialization and saving the wildlife to a whole other level.

Teaching kids to save wildlife is as important a message as it is for adults. Recently, Kelsey Taylor’s To Kill A Wolf tackled a similar theme, with the main protagonist freeing wolves from traps. It’s an environmentalist, ethical animated film. It raises awareness in the minds of children and tweens while also paving the way for fruitful discussions afterward with parents.

Not only is the animated feature important and informative, but it is also gorgeous to look at. The 3D design of the characters looks great, and are very Pixar-inspired with detailed structuring. The lynx, especially, looks immaculate with its perfect feline features. The visual effects team has some great names such as David Bobichon, Annick Buhr, Frank Dürschinger, and Sean Heuston. Together, they work harmoniously to create the perfect image, from texturing, modeling, and lighting to the animations themselves. Kudos to animators Cristina Vargas Villa and Estefany Villarreal for bringing those magical characters to life with such vivid detail, especially Pepper, the lynx kitten, beautifully drawn and adorably expressive. The voice actors also do a great job; every element complements the others, resulting in a refreshing story—a great escape from the redundancy of chronically online worlds and summer heat. 

Heidi: Rescue of the Lynx proves that many childhood fairytales and bedtime stories contain rich material for a modern adaptation. Even problematic tales can be improved and adapted to fit changing times, and Toby Schwarz and Aizea Roca Berridi succeed in creating a modern twist on a beloved children’s story that can entertain both kids and adults.

Grade: A

Director: Darren Aronofsky
Writer: Charlie Huston
Stars: Austin Butler, Regina King, Zoë Kravitz

Synopsis: Burned-out ex-baseball player Hank Thompson unexpectedly finds himself embroiled in a dangerous struggle for survival amidst the criminal underbelly of 1990s New York City, forced to navigate a treacherous underworld he never imagined.

Much has been made, and will continue to be made, about the auteur theory. In this day and age of (way) too much information, we can even troll through trailers looking for signs of a director’s personal stamp on even the slightest bit of footage. Prior to release, this was the case for Darren Aronofsky’s Caught Stealing. And this has not stopped, even in early reviews of said film. Many comparisons, some earned, some not, have been made in the few days it has been available. Despite this, Aronofsky’s core is quite evident here and it is to the film’s great advantage. His emotion-driven focus in the quiet moments elevates the film from simply fun to thought provoking.

Caught Stealing introduces us to Hank Thompson (Austin Butler), a NYC transplant from the California Bay Area who works as a bartender and has a possible relationship on the horizon with paramedic, Yvonne (Zoë Kravitz). Set in 1998, the film manages to set the tone of that time nearly perfectly. The lack of technology, the griminess of the city, even the costume design from Amy Wescott manages this with aplomb. Despite being our hero, Hank is certainly not perfect. He drinks too much, his friends are mostly degenerates, and he struggles with commitment. 

As shown in flashback, Hank also has a bit of past, and was on the cusp on being drafted into professional baseball. Much of his personal potential was lost when he was involved in an automobile accident that also killed his best friend, Dale (D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai). However, this did not kill his love for baseball, or his beloved San Francisco Giants, as evidenced by his daily calls to his mother that usually end with “I love you too, Mom. Go Giants.” He even tries to impart knowledge to Yvonne, much to her playful chagrin. Luckily, this does not affect their chemistry one bit, as evidenced by each and every scene that Butler and Kravitz share. If anything, the audience will crave more from the two of them, hoping for a real happy ending.

Hank, living in a run-down apartment, is also friends with his neighbor, Russ (Matt Smith), a British punk, who also may have some less-than-legal employment. Hank’s agreement to watch Russ’s cat, Bud, while he is visiting his sick father ends up putting Hank in very real danger when Russian mobsters, Aleksei (Yuri Kolokolnikov) and Pavel (Nikita Kukushkin) come looking for Russ and take out their anger on our hero. This sets off a series of events, including a hospital stay, visits from police Detective Roman (Regina King), avoidance of Hasidic brothers (Liev Schreiber and Vincent D’Onofrio), an impromptu trip to Shea Stadium, and the list goes on. Happily, Bud the cat is along for the vast majority of the film and is a welcome addition to Hank’s life, no matter how much he might deny it. Given that Hank spends the runtime surrounded by dangerous enemies, Bud gives him someone to care for, even if he’s a biter.

Now, this all seems like a lot, and it very much is. The responsibility of all of this adventure rests squarely on the shoulders of one Austin Butler. And oddly, this is where the Aronofsky of it all comes in. At his best, he leans on movie star performances and puts his characters through the ringer. He is more likely to do this effectively with his leading women (especially Jennifer Lawrence and Natalie Portman in mother! and Black Swan, respectively), but nevertheless, despite the madcap adventures inherent in this script from Charlie Huston, there is a deep undercurrent of sadness in this story. More than anything, Caught Stealing focuses on the poisons of running from your problems, regret, and living in the past. It also has a constant focus on the mother-child relationship, though nowhere near as unhealthy as in his previous work. 

This may not be the best performance in an Aronofsky movie (that is a tall order), but it creates a particular challenge for Butler. Because of the literal run through New York City, there is little time for Hank to deal with the pain and trauma that he has experienced in his past and is currently experiencing in the present moment. And yet, in those few instances where he has a moment to breathe and process emotionally, Butler knocks it out of the park. It has become popular to detail that when a movie star “carries a movie” it is a pure negative about the film. But Butler’s casting is someone’s choice, and that should be lauded.

There are certainly moments that strain credulity, especially connected to what the human body can go through after surgery, but because of the nature of the film, it can be brushed aside. More importantly, Butler is so watchable because we want to believe in him, we want to believe that he can survive and finally do better. As he pushes his body (which is on full display more than once) to the limit, it is next to impossible not to pump your fist at each increasingly narrow escape. Also, this is not even standard movie star stuff in which he is untouchable. Butler manages to thread the needle between lovable loser and matinee idol in a way that few have been able to in this most recent generation. 

One can view Caught Stealing as an extremely fun action-driven movie, and there is no world in which that is incorrect. Yet, when looking a bit deeper, it is so much more than that. It is easy for us to not own up to our mistakes and take our piece of the responsibility. As Hank journeys to a sense of understanding about himself, we feel Butler trying to distance himself from these errors through sex, drinking, and even violence. And who among us has not tried to create that same gap between our worst moments and our daily lives. But Caught Stealing shows us that no matter how fast we run, no matter how far we get from home, our past and present live inside of us, waiting for us to finally learn our lesson.

Grade: A-

Director: Jay Roach
Writer: Tony McNamara
Stars: Benedict Cumberbatch, Olivia Colman, Andy Samberg

Synopsis: Life seems easy for picture-perfect couple Ivy and Theo: successful careers, a loving marriage, great kids. But beneath the façade of their supposed ideal life, a storm is brewing – as Theo’s career nosedives while Ivy’s own ambitions take off, a tinderbox of fierce competition and hidden resentment ignites.

In case there any rich, successful husbands out there wondering whether or not it might be worthwhile for them to spend their savings on a seemingly-rundown shack in order for their wife to open the restaurant she’s always dreamed of running, just know that the investment might be equivalent to you biting off more than you can chew. That is, at least, what Jay Roach’s The Roses argues, in a way. A thorny yet playful reimagining of William Adler’s 1981 novel “The War of the Roses” – as well as the Danny Devito-directed film from 1989 starring Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner – this vehicle, starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Olivia Colman, throws the aforementioned romantic gesture into the mix relatively early on (in the movie, not its central relationship). Having already enjoyed a delightful meet-cute, 10 years of married bliss, and two children to show for it, Theo (Cumberbatch) decides that the earnings he had tucked away from years of dissatisfying architecture gigs would be better served to help fulfill Ivy’s lifelong goal. So he wanted to spend that money on a dream home for their family; he can always make more money, right? And, as the saying goes: Happy wife, happy life.

There’s just one problem: Theo always assumed that Ivy’s restaurant – not exactly located in a desirable area for Northern Californian diners – would fail to take off. It was a nice idea, but it was mainly supposed to serve as an extension of the cooking and baking that has become, more or less, a hobby since the beginning of their relationship. Ivy had spent years parenting and chef-ing it up from home, but when a freak storm led to dozens of patrons pulling off of the highway and into the parking lot of the aptly-named seafood joint, “We’ve Got Crabs!,” she becomes a massive, if belated success. At the same time, Theo suffers a huge professional blow, one that sets off the derailment of his own career. Thus, he is tasked with parenting duties, and given plenty of time to resent his now-thriving spouse. Ah, dramatic irony. A dish best served cold, and perhaps with a strong drink to wash it down.

The funniest thing about The Roses, however – apart from the fact that screenwriter Tony McNamara has been afforded the opportunity to wield the same profane sense of humor that made his two scripts for Yorgos Lanthimos such a delight – is how often the eventually-dominant marital disharmony presaged by these previously-detailed events is coated in a too-slick armor by witty British banter. Perhaps it should be said: It’s a funny movie, but this particular “funny” thing isn’t a laughing matter. It’s more of an oddity in this case, given how the film’s marketing (and the works on which it is based) promised for, well, war. And there is war aplenty: As Theo and Ivy crawl closer to couple’s therapy, as promised in the film’s quippy prologue, cruelty and chaos have no bounds in their partnership, to the point where Theo is shaving off a wart into Ivy’s cooking, and the latter dumps live lobsters into his once-serene bath. It’s just not quite as constant in its prickliness as audiences may have imagined it would be. If not for its R-rating, one might have been right to assume that this adult comedy is perfectly appropriate for youngsters. 

Then again, there are themes abound here, those prone to sailing so far over a child’s head (en route to hitting Theo squarely in the cornea, naturally) that an excess of sexual repartee might be the least of the relevant worries. In modernizing the story, Roach and McNamara lend a great deal of their focus to matrimonial politics, allowing for the emergence of probing conversations about household roles between man and wife, especially when they are reversed from “traditional” (read: outdated and ridiculous) standards. Adler’s novel and DeVito’s black comedy adaptation were both products of the 1980s, and therefore treated the idea of a successful businessman not having a fundamental right to his home and assets as a notion worthy of a scoff. It was a plot device rather than a narrative pillar. 

In The Roses, Ivy’s success certainly goes to her head and leads to Theo harboring a serious resentment, but his handling of the situation is severe and selfish at heart. Once he accepts the role of homemaker, he twists his responsibilities in a way that makes him the primary parental influence to their kids, Hattie (Hala Finley) and Roy (Wells Rappaport). He trains them like Olympians, taking away access to their mother’s famous desserts in favor of homemade protein blasts – I must confess I don’t know what that means – which causes Ivy to feel like she’s at a constant distance from the children she raised. The already-cavernous rift between our titular lovebirds only grows as the children age; friends of the couple, including Andy Samberg’s Barry and Kate McKinnon’s Amy, notice it early on. Other equally-forgettable supporting characters, played by Ncuti Gatwa, Sunita Mani, Jamie Demetriou, and Zoë Chao all catch on in kind. Occasionally, it’s as fun to watch them react to the chaotic tendencies of their pals as it is to watch the hijinks unfold. Just occasionally, though.

Such mayhem would become rather grating if it weren’t for Cumberbatch and Colman’s willingness to play along, and both actors go to any and all lengths to challenge for the summer’s loudest theatrical guffaws. And after a while, the physical comedy, albeit committed and as serious as Oliver’s heart attack in The War of the Roses, plays itself off. (If I never see crustaceans and/or oranges used as weaponry again, it will be too soon.) Yet both of the film’s stars make even more hay from a handful of intelligent conversations about relationships – with the occasional barb related to one’s penis size sprinkled in, for taste – than they do in the film’s hand-to-hand combat. The cruelest lines in the film are often those that are delivered straight, like when Theo shares that he didn’t want to tell Ivy a piece of good news because he “didn’t want [her] to ruin it.” If nothing else, contemplative realizations like this one should have had more of a space at The Rose’s table, even if the table was damn-near destroyed at a dinner party gone wrong. 

It’s a tough balancing act to pull off, and try as he might, Roach may be too composed and anonymous in his filmmaking style to ever fully grasp hold of his foremost narrative assets. That’s not to say he doesn’t churn out suitable cinema on a semi-regular basis – he last directed Bombshell in 2019, and made Trumbo, The Campaign, Dinner for Schmucks, and a smattering of Fockers films before that – but that you never quite feel that any true artistry is on display. There’s a roboticism to his proceedings, even when things are meant to be energetic. You never want to feel like you’re witnessing an artist grapple with their decisions in real time while watching a film of theirs, but you certainly don’t want to feel like the one call they ever made was, “Yeah, that looks fine.” The Roses certainly does, though there’s a world in which it exceeds those hyperlimited expectations. Perhaps the same world where Theo and Ivy are able to accept one another for their humanity rather than their superficial value. Hey, Siri, play “Happy Together” by The Turtles, would you?

Grade: C

Director: Angus MacLachlan
Writer: Angus MacLachlan
Stars: Jane Levy, Will Pullen, David Strathairn

Synopsis: A man tries to protect his daughter-in-law when he finds out that his son is having an affair.

As the scale of cinema grows and budgets become exponentially larger, it is easy to forget the little people who make watching a film feel personal. The locations may be small, and the characters may seem familiar, but it is just as important to tell a story about a family trying to make it in the world as it is to show superheroes attempting to save it. In A Little Prayer, we see a family doing their best to get by; there are no over-the-top scenes of screaming dialogue or emotionally manipulative moments, but instead quiet, tender scenes that, while predictable, are charming enough to evoke a poignant feeling that is sometimes needed.

The family in A Little Prayer consists of a husband and wife, Bill (David Strathairn) and Venida (Celia Weston), their son David (Will Pullen), and his wife, Tammy (Jane Levy). Bill and David are similar in many ways; they both work for a company that has been in the family for generations, they’re both veterans, and they both struggle with problems related to drinking and trauma. Bill understands his son, David, more than David knows, because he sees him going down a similar path, leading to the regret he faces and questioning the job he did in raising his son. Because of his understanding, he shares a strong bond with Tammy, guiding her through the complicated marriage he knows she is dealing with. The bond between the two makes it difficult for Bill when he realizes that David has been cheating on Tammy, as he struggles with whether to protect his son and his marriage or to tell Tammy and give her a fair chance to move on.

Writer-director Angus MacLachlan is a playwright, bringing his knowledge of the stage to the screen. This film is minimalist, with the home serving as the primary setting where most of the action unfolds. Other settings are used, but for the most part, we deal with this family inside their home and the conversations they have, attempting to understand each other and their place in everything. While it can cause the film to feel slow, and maybe too slow for some viewers, the approach invites the audience to feel connected to the family on a personal level, as if they were viewing conversations between their own parents, siblings, or in-laws. As a director, MacLachlan doesn’t have to do much as the personal, charming, and emotional script carries much of the weight.

However, it isn’t as though he reinvented the wheel in terms of Small-Town, USA stories. The script does tend to be predictable at times, following a similar path and dealing with the same kind of characters, such as older people trying to understand the world around them and young people who are in situations that hurt them for whatever reason, which have become all too synonymous with this style of film. While these are the same kinds of characters that appear in this film, the performances, particularly from the never-better David Strathairn and Jane Levy, prevent this film from falling into melodramatic territory. Their individual performances rank among the absolute best of their careers, including a truly heartbreaking scene involving Bill and his son’s mistress. Still, it is the moments they share and the chemistry they have that make their performances two of the best of the year. There is a genuine love and understanding between Bill and Tammy, and their care for one another is palpable throughout. Celia Weston, as a mother who tries to understand what is happening but seems to be left out, also has a moment towards the middle of the film that is genuinely heartbreaking, and makes it apparent that the performances in this film are what does the heavy lifting.

A Little Prayer shines when MacLachlan gives these talented actors the time to express their emotions. While the film may feel somewhat slow during its quieter moments, the understated script and direction do not come across as amateurish. Instead, they evoke a sense of personal experience that resonates with viewers in various ways. Although A Little Prayer may not revolutionize the family drama genre, the remarkable performances by David Strathairn and Jane Levy ensure that it fits seamlessly into the style and essence of what the genre offers.

Grade: B

Director: Alex Russell
Writer: Alex Russell
Stars: Théodore Pellerin, Archie Madekwe, Zack Fox

Synopsis: A retail employee infiltrates the inner circle of an artist on the verge of stardom. As he gets closer to the budding music star, access and proximity become a matter of life and death.

Most of us believe that we can see the bad things coming. That we have a sense of what is around the corner when we meet someone new. Sadly, this is almost never true. Bad actors are among us and some only must wait for an opportunity to ingratiate themselves. This must be exponentially true for the rich and famous. Stan culture being what it is, there is an inordinate amount of information just available for the taking. The progress we have made technologically has made it so easy for manipulators to worm their way in if a person is not careful. The obsession inherent in our popular culture has found acceptance through sheer numbers and the swarms shout down any criticism. 

In Lurker, Matthew (Théodore Pellerin) is working at a trendy clothing shop when Oliver (Archie Madekwe) walks in. The camera leers as the public closes in on the burgeoning pop star. Matthew does not speak, but dives into action. As people rush to take pictures, nearly useless mementos of a brush with fame, Matthew plays a song on the store’s speakers. This gets the exact reaction he hoped for, real attention and affection. He pretends to not know who Oliver is, and this endears him to the star, who is constantly surrounded by worship and adoration. Madekwe and Pellerin have instant, albeit strange chemistry. Oliver is the perfect star, easy with a smile and a searching glance. Matthew is an enigma, having the ability to both blend and stand out, but specifically to Oliver, as someone just different enough to be worthy of attention. 

In his first feature, Alex Russell manages to remain patient as this relationship ebbs and flows. We are allowed to see only what Matthew wants us to witness. Even when by himself, there is the sense that he is coiled, but he never attacks. The audience wants an easy answer. He is clearly a villain, but Russell does not give us enough background to draw our combined ire. Instead, we are left with a deep feeling of unease from the start of the film. It takes Oliver longer, as he is inundated with praise and connection from all sides. But Matthew, by his presence combined with mild acceptance from Oliver, begins to be seen as necessary by the entire entourage. His mild skill with a camera gives an excuse for Oliver to keep him around, along with his distance from the rest of the crew. There is a certain amount of discomfort from these others, but as would be expected, they eventually fall in line with Oliver’s needs.

There are a few moments in which Russell’s script falters and the film slows a bit too much. But this also gives Pellerin the opportunities to fill the screen and plot his return wordlessly. It is a special gift to make us feel this sense of unease with little actual proof. When these plots come to their fruition, our patience is rewarded in an upsetting turn of events. As we watch with Matthew, there is a deep lack of rooting interest, to the film’s benefit. Being unsure of what we want to happen enables the film to find its own path. Of course, there are many films about sociopathic upward mobility, but most of these films either have us approving this vendetta or actively hoping that the protagonist gets his or her comeuppance. Lurker, on the other hand, is not afraid to force us to feel the squirming sensation of not knowing. 

Lurker forces us to face the darkest part of ourselves. We all engage in the internet, which allows a certain anonymity, along with a perceived closeness to the biggest stars on the planet. We might tell ourselves that there are steps that we would not take for that connection. But what if you were accepted for a brief moment into that focused embrace? Would you be able to simply do the right thing and be yourself? Or would you become what they wanted, simply to stay in that light. None of us are above obsession in the wrong situation. More importantly, none of us are beyond being obsessed over. There is a dangerous allure at play in Lurker that is likely to haunt viewers long after the lights come up in the theater.

Grade: A-