Director: Michael Shannon
Writer: Brett Neveu
Stars: Judy Greer, Paul Sparks, Alexander Skarsgård

Synopsis: It tells the story of Janice, the mother of a teenager who shot and killed three of his classmates.

It is not surprising that we have experienced more than a few movies about school shootings and school shooters. In our country, this is a true epidemic. After all, every day 12 children die from gun violence in the United States, and 32 more are injured. Hollywood has certainly picked up on this trend, as seen in films like Elephant, We Need To Talk About Kevin, Mass, and Vox Lux; just to name a few. Given that this topic has been covered, and covered well by many of these films, it is important for movies tackling this now to have a fresh perspective. In many cases, it helps to have an experienced director at the helm. Unfortunately, Eric LaRue has neither of these in its favor. 

Eric LaRue, based on a play written by screenwriter Brett Neveu, never shows us the bloodshed. Instead, it focuses on the aftermath of three students dying at the hands of a school shooter, mostly as experienced by family members. Janice LaRue (Judy Greer), the titular shooter’s mother is, understandably, having an extremely difficult time functioning in the world after the horrific events. Her relationship with her husband, Ron (Alexander Skarsgård), her work, and even her faith are all impacted negatively. For most of the film, she appears to be sleepwalking through her days, merely putting one foot in front of another to avoid truly engaging. 

The film has a secret weapon that makes it just watchable enough. The secret weapon has been available to so many filmmakers and they have never taken advantage. Judy Greer is a powerhouse of an actor and has really not been given enough real opportunities to showcase that talent. Greer’s silence speaks volumes and, as her character slowly unravels, she lets the audience in, and the results of this are fascinating. Unfortunately, Shannon and Neveu do not seem comfortable with setting a serious tone for the film to follow. The script quickly loses its way as it leans in on Ron and his burgeoning flirtation with a parishioner at his new church, Lisa (Alison Pill). Skarsgård’s unassuming, bordering on goofy, performance is deeply out of place. While it does serve the purpose of separating Janice and Ron emotionally, it all feels just a bit silly. Skarsgård’s height and presence do not help matters as he comes off as more imbecilic, rather than pained and lost. 

The drastic shifts in tone, especially the comedic moments, are more uncomfortable than clever. There is a rather large subplot featuring faith and this could be a promising addition, had it been explored in interesting ways. Instead, it features Janice being convinced to meet with her pastor, Steve Calhan (Paul Sparks), who, in turn, wants her to meet with the three mothers of the children that her own child shot and killed. Sparks seems out of his depth when faced with Greer. This is especially true when the meeting with three of the four mothers does take place. The script feels like it is constantly searching for a way out and, just as this scene picks up steam, it abruptly ends. On the other side of the faith aisle, Ron’s move to another church does offer us a few scenes with his engaging preacher, Bill Verne (a perfect Tracy Letts). But again, these moments are too brief and serve very little purpose.

The whole film builds to a very particular climax and it mostly works. Unfortunately, the journey is arduous and slow. Shannon’s inexperience behind the camera shows in both the slipping tone and pace of Eric LaRue. There are a handful of powerful, impactful moments, but it is simply never enough. If a viewer has a great deal of patience, Judy Greer will reward that restraint with a character arc worth watching. It is just a shame that she is not surrounded by a better film that would lift her up even higher.

Grade: C

Director: Barry Levinson
Writer: Nicholas Pileggi
Stars: Robert De Niro, Debra Messing, Kathrine Narducci

Synopsis: Two of New York City’s most notorious organized crime bosses vie for control of the city’s streets. Once best friends, petty jealousies and a series of betrayals set them on a deadly collision course.

There will almost never be a time when the prospect of a new movie starring Robert De Niro won’t be a bit enticing for audiences. Despite an incredible and versatile career, spanning decades with movies like The Godfather Part II, Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, The Untouchables, Goodfellas, A Bronx Tale, Casino and The Irishman (to name only a few), it is wonderful to know that there is more he still has to offer as an actor. It is this knowledge that makes The Alto Knights, a movie starring De Niro in a dual role, all the more interesting a movie at first glance.

Based on true events, De Niro stars as Frank Costello and Vito Genovese, two childhood friends who make their way up the ranks together in the New York crime syndicate. Soon, Genovese even becomes the head of the syndicate for a while, but, after he murders someone and flees the country, Frank takes over. Years later, Vito returns and wants his power back, leading to escalating tensions and even an assassination attempt on Frank, and the two former best friends now find themselves becoming enemies, ultimately resulting in a rivalry that could potentially decimate the entire New York mafia.

Despite the movie releasing now in theaters, The Alto Knights was a pitch that spent years gathering dust on the shelf, as many studios were offered the movie, but everyone passed on it. In 2022, however, newly appointed CEO of Warner Bros. Discovery, David Zaslav, personally greenlit the project, with Barry Levinson (Rain Man, Good Morning Vietnam) tapped to direct, with a script from Nicholas Pileggi, most notable for writing Goodfellas. When a team of such talents is brought together, one might expect that the end result might be something quite extraordinary. Unfortunately, The Alto Knights plays a lot like a watered down version of The Irishman, down to the events of the movie being narrated by De Niro playing Frank Costello in his twilight years, except this time, most of the interesting moments are shown through a slideshow rather than actual scenes.

Where The Alto Knights succeeds is, as expected, with De Niro. As an actor who has established himself as one of the greatest to ever live, he once again proves he has a versatile range with two very different performances between Costello and Genovese, showcased rather spectacularly when the two eventually come face-to-face in a pivotal moment of the movie and try to figure out how to stop a war from igniting between them, somewhat reminiscent of the famous diner sequence between Al Pacino and De Niro in Heat. Backed with some good supporting performances from Debra Messing, Katherine Narducci and an unrecognizable Cosmo Jarvis, the movie excels in this department often.

Unfortunately, that is also where the praise mostly subsides. Despite some strong dialogue exchanges between characters, particularly a court standoff between De Niro and Narducci, much of the movie’s intrigue is built on layers of exposition that jumble the narrative quite often, and makes the proceedings feel less like a movie made for theaters and more like an old news segment that is recounting a moment in time, with some incredibly choppy editing and odd fade outs that continually break the flow of the movie. The rushed nature of many scenes, which could have been engrossing, are shown through the slideshow, which results in a sluggish pace with the rest of the movie, making it feel far longer than the aforementioned The Irishman, which is 92 minutes longer.

The story of The Alto Knights and how the New York mafia crumbled due to the rivalry between Costello and Genovese is a fascinating one, and there are hints of it scattered throughout the runtime, but it comes up short often due to a lack of momentum and even a surprising amount of tired narrative tropes revisited from far more effective movies in the genre. Were it not for De Niro’s performances and some solid work from the rest of the cast, The Alto Knights would fall apart entirely. Despite them, however, the movie feels like it was shelved this entire time for a reason.

Grade: C-

Director: Alex Garland, Ray Mendoza
Writer: Ray Mendoza, Alex Garland
Stars: D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai, Will Poulter, Cosmo Jarvis

Synopsis: A platoon of Navy SEALs embark on a dangerous mission in Ramadi, Iraq, with the chaos and brotherhood of war retold through their memories of the event.

Ray Mendoza spent significant time with Alex Garland, his co-director on Warfare, when he was acting as a military consultant on Garland’s Civil War. While Civil War imagined a divided America through the eyes of photojournalists, Warfare is not imagined, it is remembered. An immersive cinéma-vérité recounting a mission Ray Mendoza (D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai) was a part of serving as a JTAC in 2006 in Iraq. Mendoza is committed to replicating the experiences of a group of Navy SEALs who were tasked with identifying al-Qaeda insurgents in Ramadi.

Unlike many a war movie, even those that recreate real events based on a living person’s experiences, Warfare isn’t interested in giving background or backstories to the soldiers involved. Mendoza and Garland show a pre-mission gathering around a video of Erik Pryde’s Ministry of Sound club hit “Call on Me.” What the audience sees is that the soldiers are young, pent up, and ready to go. Camaraderie is established and that’s all. Rank, specialty, and relationships unfold within the operation and the miasma of an unexpected IUD attack.

The lack of “characterization” is deliberate. Mendoza and Garland reiterate that the events happened as they are filmed and unless something was said by the soldiers during that time it wasn’t included. The audience has to sink or swim with the people they see on screen; there’s little time to judge any of the ethical issues, of which there are inherently many, nor is there space to bond with the soldiers. It’s war and you’re inside it. 

Not knowing much about the men means they become a kind of “everyman” inside the pressure cooker. Will Poulter’s Officer in Charge, Erik seems collected and battle ready, but like the rest of his squad he’s barely able to keep it together once the chaos begins. The two armed translators who are tasked with keeping the Iraqi families whose house the squadron have decided to use as a vantage point for the operation are almost pushed as fodder into the fray. Tommy, a younger recruit played by Kit Connor, stands shocked, unable to work out what is going on. Cosmo Jarvis’ sniper Elliott makes jokes with his fellow sniper Frank (Taylor John Smith) to try to relieve the tension of looking down the scope at men gathering across the street. It is up to them to report if someone is “peeking or probing” suggesting they’re insurgents, or if they’re simply innocent residents going about their day. Joseph Quinn’s Leading Petty Officer, Sam, waits in another room. The wearing pressure of “hurry up and wait” during the surveillance is its own pressure cooker. 

Warfare is replete with talented young actors. Charles Melton, Noah Centineo, Evan Holtzman, Henrique Zaga, Finn Bennett and actual Iraq veteran Alex Brockdorff are amongst the mix of SEALs, FSOs, ANGLICOs (Marines) in the cinematic real time operation. They’re each solid in the ensemble which favors the point of view of Ray who switches between communicator, stand-in field medic (along with Michael Gandolfini’s Lt. Macdonald), and interim 2IC. 

The sound design, editing, and cinematography are top notch and there’s no doubting Warfare is a visceral experience as it moves through the chaos of a dangerous and desperate military situation. However, the authentic reproduction of the operation is both a boon and an impediment to the film. Mendoza and Garland so want the audience to experience events that they actively discourage consideration of them. It is all too easy to get caught up in the whirlwind of pain, fear, bravery, and “brotherhood” in propulsive war stories, that the focus excludes contextualizing whether that war was something soldiers should have been deployed in. The Second Gulf War, or the Iraq War, remains controversial as it was considered illegal by the United Nations and the cumulative cost in terms of civilian lives and the lives of the United States Military and its allies, plus the post invasion disorganization and monetary investment were widely condemned.

Warfare is a technical achievement par excellence; both raw and urgent. But once the adrenaline wears off and the movie reaches its coda, the questions begin to gather – the main being, “Why were they there in the first place?”

Grade: C+

Director: Noah Pritzker
Writer: Noah Pritzker
Stars: Griffin Dunne, James Norton, Miles Heizer, Rosanna Arquette

Synopsis: Manhattan dentist Peter Pearce is facing a midlife crisis after his wife of 35 years leaves him. On the spur of the moment, he books a trip to Tulum, Mexico, only to crash his son’s bachelor party.

It sounds like a half-baked Hangover retread, or perhaps a version of American Wedding where Eugene Levy’s Mr. Levenstein is the one to threaten his son’s nuptials rather than the almighty Stifler. But Noah Pritzker’s wry and honest dramedy Ex-Husbands – which sees a father inadvertently crash his eldest’s bachelor trip while on a personal journey of his own design – is careful to be light on tigers and face tattoos in favor of heavy emotional breakthroughs, ones so purposefully crafted that they hit home, even if our homes have never dealt with the same unease in an explicit fashion. Pritzker’s emphasis on making growth and reflection the pillars of his sophomore feature doesn’t abuse the viewer with psychotherapy-friendly personal revelations as much as it introduces them as unique individual scenarios for its characters to work through in real time. What could have been a lazy, bro-happy raunch fest about what happens to our testicles when we age instead becomes a male-heavy dramedy focused on the lessons we learn both for and about ourselves as we get older, wiser, and occasionally, lonelier.

Originally written as a salve in the aftermath of his own parents’ decision to separate after 35 years of marriage, Ex-Husbands shares some thematic and spiritual tissue with Pritzker’s 2015 directorial debut, Quitters, which followed a young man’s search for found family after his mother checks into rehab and his relationship with his father crumbles in kind. The former, however, is a more confident (and interesting) step into the independent filmmaking landscape for Pritzker, whose assured direction and few-frills script is the indication of someone more seasoned than his young career might otherwise indicate. Better still, it’s a tale of masculinity that isn’t too eager to prove itself as a modern rejection of deservedly oft-ired tropes; it would rather eschew that toxicity in a manner as natural Griffin Dunne once felt in a zany thriller directed by a young Martin Scorsese.

Not that Dunne couldn’t feasibly slot back into the singular vision of After Hours’ Manhattan underworld today, but the now-grizzled veteran of more understated dramatic work feels right at home in Pritzker’s rendering of New York. Plus, Rosanna Arquette isn’t the onset of a terrifying evening in the city that never sleeps in this setting; she’s merely filing for divorce. The unexpected news sends Dunne’s Peter Pearce into something of a personal rut, not least because Arquette’s Maria seems to have been inspired to pull the ripcord by Peter’s own father (Richard Benjamin), who abruptly shares that he is leaving Peter’s mother after 50 some-odd years of marriage for a slew of half-baked reasons that amount to a state of late-in-life boredom. As the opening credits roll prior to the film they’re seeing that afternoon at Lincoln Center’s Walter Reade Theater (much of Ex-Husbands’ Manhattan-set sequences maintain an authenticity that New Yorkers should recognize, cinephiles or not), so, too, do Pritzker’s titles. By this point, the film’s whip-smart, mature tone has already been set in motion with more sincerity than most seasoned directors feel the need to employ. 

What follows keeps apace, with more marital/familial snags resulting in unearthed tensions coupled with newfound common ground, two narrative aspects that only work as well as they do because we believe that the Pearces – a nuclear family in every sense of the word – have plenty of shared issues, too. When we first meet Nick (an understated, soulful James Norton) and his eventual fiancé, Thea (Rachel Zeiger-Haag), they’re the embodiment of the picture that sits next to the phrase “meet cute” in a dictionary; it’s a slight, delicately-crafted prologue filled with shared smiles that indicate the potential for a more meaningful future together. Six years later, a few months before their wedding, we come to realize how difficult things have gotten at home thanks to Nick’s lack of writerly ambition and Thea’s urge for a stable future. Nick doesn’t share the nature of his inner turmoil with his brother, Mickey (Miles Heizer), who planned an epic weekend in Tulum, Mexico for the former’s bachelor party. Naturally, the somber Peter has unknowingly booked a trip to the same resort on the same weekend for some much-needed bumming in the sun. Once word of this mishap reaches the groom, Peter ensures his boy that he won’t even know he’s there. 

Of course, that wouldn’t make for much of a movie, so Nick, Mickey, and the groom’s dopey gaggle of bros include Peter in their getaway’s proceedings, making their elder feel seen, accepted, and loved, all of which had been lacking from his life prior to his vacation. Yet despite Pritzker’s insistence on keeping his characters connected in a shared space, a distance between them remains, one that necessitates a number of exposition-heavy dialogues that afford the Pearce men opportunities to explain how and why they’ve landed in their respective set of circumstances. Peter is getting divorced; Nick’s relationship is on the ropes; Mickey hasn’t been able to meaningfully connect with a romantic partner since coming out, and soon finds himself entangled in a complicated affair with a married friend of his older brother’s; they all frequently wax poetically about why these situations are difficult to be in, and how easy solutions have been difficult to come by. Thankfully, there’s never an absence of thoughtfulness in Pritzker’s writing, thus keeping Ex-Husbands optimistic in the midst of its slew of seemingly dour situations. In other words, there’s a future for each of these men, even if it isn’t quite the one they imagined they would be embarking on when their stories began. 

That core notion is aided most by the main trio’s performances as the male members of a family in need of a compass to point each of them toward their individual north stars, though it’s undoubtedly Dunne whose work most stands apart from that of the film’s ensemble. His turn here is quietly reminiscent of his time on NBC’s family drama This Is Us, though there was an anger to his character on that show that Peter eschews in favor of existing as a kettle eager to boil over. Once he does, the inevitable screech is one that we accept given how much life we’ve witnessed over the previous 90 minutes, in all its pain and glory. That’s also precisely why it doesn’t matter that Ex-Husbands doesn’t break the mold. It’s focus on proving that we’re never stuck inside the molds our lives present us with is what really counts.

Ex-Husbands will be available to rent on PVOD on March 24.

Grade: B-

Director: Jessica Palud
Writer: Jessica Palud, Laurette Polmanss
Stars: Anamaria Vartolomei, Matt Dillon, Giuseppe Maggio

Synopsis: Maria Schneider, a young, struggling actress, lands her dream role in a film by an emerging Italian director, starring alongside an American superstar. What begins as her big breakthrough quickly turns into a living hell.

“Let the scene lead you,” Bernardo Bertolucci (Giuseppe Maggio) tells Maria Schneider (Anamaria Vartolomei), the ingénue starring alongside the larger-than-life force that is Marlon Brando (Matt Dillon) in the Italian director’s new film, Last Tango in Paris. He doesn’t want to rehearse the scene in question – one in which Brando’s character rapes Schneider’s – not in spite of its intensity, but because of it. Bertolucci wants raw intimacy; “On my films, there are no actors,” he later tells Schneider, noting that he “didn’t want [her] to act,” only to exhibit her true feelings as the scene unfolded. In the decades since production concluded, the film’s leads, the filmmaker himself, and others on the outskirts of the production have had differing accounts as to whether or not the rape was actually in the script. In 2007, Schneider told the Daily Mail that the scene was abruptly added after Brando came up with the idea, while at a 2013 Cinémathèque Française retrospective, Bertolucci claimed that it was performed as it was written. One thing is for sure: the use of butter as a sexual lubricant was nowhere to be found in the script. In addition, though the rape itself was simulated, Brando’s application of the butter and his forcible actions during the take felt authentic to the unsuspecting Schneider, which left her feeling “a little raped, both by Marlon and by Bertolucci.”

There’s more to Jessica Palud’s Being Maria – which premiered at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival and screened at Film at Lincoln Center’s 2025 edition of Rendez-Vous with French Cinema – but Maria Schneider’s days on the Tango set play a more pivotal role in the film than any other, much like its consideration in Schneider’s life and career. The French star, who was 19 when she filmed Tango and 58 when she died of cancer in 2011, suffered abuse and used drugs in response to the instant fame she obtained following her breakout, and Being Maria goes to reasonable lengths in its efforts to paint the full picture of a life in the limelight. But it’s admittedly difficult to latch onto everything else Palud’s biopic attempts to mine from the aftermath of the aforementioned trauma, not least because of how vivid and harrowing the director’s depiction of that on-set assault is. Both what precedes and follows one extended moment in this movie is an uninvolved glance at the booklet of biopic tropes, disappointingly so. Much like what Brando tells Schneider right before action is called on the now-infamous incident, “It’s only a film.”

The one person who understands that sentiment to greater heights than anyone else in Being Maria is Vartolomei, whose own burgeoning star and seemingly endless range are put to great use in the titular role. The French actor, who recently stole a few scenes in Bong Joon-ho’s Mickey 17 but should be better remembered for turning in one of 2021’s best performances in Audrey Diwan’s Happening, likely called upon that breakout to inform this part given its psychologically unrelenting similarities, though it feels as though she’s evolving in real time here. Expressive and entrancing, Vartolomei is never once overshadowed by Dillon’s Brando, perhaps because the actor’s hair and smirk are about as close as he gets to the complex, venerated legend of stage and screen, but in actuality, it’s because she’s a presence unto herself. You can feel Vartolomei actively embodying Schneider’s conflicted gamut of emotions while filming Tango, the nature of acting while feeling truly broken as she inhabits a “part.” That she and Dillon have a real chemistry is indicative of how Schneider said she felt in his orbit prior to the scene that altered their professional relationship: “There was no attraction between us. For me, he was more like a father figure and I a daughter.”

Aside from what occurred on Bertolucci’s film, the relationship between Schneider and her family is much of what Palud and co-writer Laurette Polmanss lend their focus to. Working from Vanessa Schneider’s 2018 memoir, “My Cousin Maria Schneider” – great SEO, to be fair – Being Maria attempts to create dramatic tension from estrangement, though those links aren’t nearly as fleshed out as what the film is clearly most interested in. It doesn’t help that the first time we see Maria, she’s watching her father, the French actor and director Daniel Gélin (Yvan Attal), as he directs a film of his own; this seems to be the beginning and end of their bond, one that is more professional than it is personal. Of course, that was partially due to the fact that Maria was the result of an affair and thus could not be recognized as his daughter, and partially because Maria’s mother (Marie Gillain) wanted Maria to have no contact with him. But it’s one thing to interrogate the turmoil that such discord could cause and another thing entirely to accept it on its terms, finding alternate ways to examine why this ultra-green actress just might have some daddy issues. Brando and Bertolucci, as much blame as they deserve for the torment Schneider endured for the remainder of her life given their actions towards her, are positioned as fuel to Maria’s fatherless fire. It’s no wonder that Gélin appears in so few scenes yet is mentioned in so many, as a tale of a young woman’s tribulation can never be about her suffering alone, but about who caused it and why.

There’s some merit to that: Men should be held accountable for the pain they inflict on women, no matter the circumstances nor their claims that calls for accountability should fall anywhere but on their shoulders. And Palud understands that, but only to a point. Being Maria spends a lot of time portraying Schneider in pain and enduring ridicule and criticism from the press, audiences, and friends alike, yet in doing so, it remains intent on repeating one refrain: “You wanted this.” It’s a common idea to include in a film about young artists who struggle, either at the onset of their careers or in the heart of their fame, but it’s a frustrating one to cling to as a narrative buoy. Not coincidentally, the only time Maria seems to be far from drowning is when she’s in the company of her eventual partner, Noor (Céleste Brunnquell), though that is a part that is as thankless as Maria’s joy is treated. Another film could have lent just a touch more focus to the fleeting instances of euphoria shared between lovers, a sometimes necessary reprieve from perpetual agony. Then again, if my grandmother had wheels, she would be a bike.

Being Maria was released in theaters by Kino Lorber on March 21.

Grade: C

Director: Tracie Laymon
Writer: Tracie Laymon
Stars: Barbie Ferreira, John Leguizamo, French Stewart

Synopsis: When lonely 20-something Lily Trevino accidentally befriends a stranger online who shares the same name as her own self-centered father, encouragement and support from this new Bob Trevino could change her life.

The simple kindness of another human being is something we could all use. An acknowledgement of our existence or a bit of encouragement is fulfilling. It can be hard to be lonely and to not know how to tone down the excitement you, as a lonely person, feel because of a simple interaction. It can be hard when you’re desperate for that modicum of human kindness because the people who are supposed to do it unconditionally and don’t are the cruelest of all.

Bob Trevino Likes It isn’t reinventing the idea of found family, but reinforcing why it is the most important thing we can do for one another. To choose to love someone is to show them that they are known. While most of us haven’t experienced the utterly reprehensible self-centeredness of Lily’s (Barbie Ferreira) father Bob Trevino (French Stewart), we still feel that a biological link isn’t the strongest link there is even with the worst of our biological family shouting at us how important that link is.

Writer and director Tracie Laymon has brought a story to life that will open up a lot of wounds, but only to allow the idea that they can heal properly. The story is based on Laymon’s own experiences and she brings a depth to it that really opens Bob Trevino Likes It to a wholly new take on a strained parent/child relationship. She writes each character with such a loving eye. All of them are broken, but with each other can be rebuilt.

There aren’t any easy answers, either. There are difficult conversations, things left unsaid, and misinterpretations of actions. There’s a scene with Lily and her new friend Bob Trevino (John Leguizamo) that really emphasizes this shift in perception. The two of them are having a nice, if a little stiff, conversation when Lily takes a call from the woman she works for, Daphne (Lauren “Lolo” Spencer), who accidentally mentions Lily’s lie that this Bob is her father. Bob is notably upset and, as a defense mechanism, Lily tries to do everything she did to appease her father when he got upset, but none of it works. She then tries to walk away. Bob stops her and says that they need to talk about it. He’s telling her in a way he wants to try and work out why Lily lied and get past it.

This is where Laymon’s great work as a director matches her phenomenal script. Instead of shooting Bob as he calms Lily down, Laymon and cinematographer John Rosario focus on Lily’s face. We watch as Lily realizes Bob is making an effort. Her face gets softer and her mouth opens a little. It’s a perfect turning point in this character’s life. It’s like a light bulb has been illuminated. Laymon and Rosario then continue this movement as we watch from outside as Lily and Bob talk, really talk. The shot of the two of them through the diner window, the silence of the dialogue, and the musical cue is just beautifully composed.

Bob Trevino Likes It is not only blessed with behind-the-scenes talent, but the actors are superb as well. While French Stewart gives a villainous performance for the ages, the two leads are utterly magnetic together. Barbie Ferreira is an actress who is incredibly adept at character work. Her physicality and presence make her a chameleon. As Lily, she breaks your heart and then mends it so that you laugh through your copious tears. John Leguizamo proves once again he’s an incredibly talented actor, if given the right material. He plays mundane in a way that’s incredibly compelling to watch. The two of them together are the perfect combination. Their chemistry is dynamite even as they have those awkward first steps that all new friendships go through.

Bob Trevino Likes It is a film that reminds us of the capabilities we all have to be better humans to each other. You don’t have to go as far as Bob, but meeting someone where they’re at is a good first step. A hello, a small conversation, or an acknowledgement of their being is sometimes enough. It’s enough to give that person the strength and knowledge that they are seen. That’s a beautiful thing and Bob Trevino Likes It is an absolutely beautiful film.

Grade: A

Director: Anthony Russo, Joe Russo
Writer: Christopher Markus, Stephen McFeely, Simon Stålenhag
Stars: Chris Pratt, Millie Bobby Brown, Woody Harrelson

Synopsis: An orphaned teen hits the road with a mysterious robot to find her long-lost brother, teaming up with a smuggler and his wisecracking sidekick.

I used to think the gold standard of product placement in films was any Michael Bay Transformers movie or that moment when Brad Pitt took a satisfying swig from a can of Pepsi in World War Z, proving he was smarter than a world full of zombies who ran past him (and somehow not into him). But no—the Russo brothers told the entire world to hold their beers.

Not only do they discuss Panda Express at exceedingly ridiculous lengths (yes, I agree, everything they make is delicious—please send all Panda Express inquiries to the InSession Film email), but the Russos also create an entire character out of a mascot for a fine American company, Planters. Again, I love the Dry-Roasted variety—send all proposed business collaborations below.

Speaking of product placement, I am writing this review on a brand-new HP Envy laptop. With premium features, top-tier performance, and a high-resolution display, it’s one of the most versatile laptops on the market.

Now, do you see how distracting product placement can be—especially when it’s thrown right into the middle of this review? Yes, Anthony and Joe, we can agree that popular movies can (and should) be held in higher esteem. Here’s looking at you, Top Gun: Maverick, but not at the expense of ruining the story. 

Based on the popular graphic novel of the same name by Simon Stålenhag, the story follows a teenager, Michelle (Stranger Things star Millie Bobby Brown), who lives with her abusive father, Ted (Jason Alexander). Michelle resides in a world under authoritarian rule after a war broke out between humans and robots in the early ’90s.

Fortunately for the human race, Sentre CEO Ethan Skate (Stanley Tucci) developed Neurocaster technology, allowing humans to upload their brains to drone robots, ultimately winning the war. As a result, all robots were banished to the “exclusion zone.” However, as a metaphor for the overuse and dependence on modern technology, humans escape their mundane lives through an established virtual reality, remaining in near-comatose states while robots handle all the work.

That is until an adorable robot named Cosmo—who communicates in a way reminiscent of Wall-E—runs into Michelle. She takes them in and soon realizes that this bot contains the uploaded mind of her deceased younger brother, Christopher. After a violent encounter with her abusive father, Ted, Michelle and Cosmo escape. As they venture into the dystopian landscape, they cross paths with Keats (Chris Pratt), a smuggler, and his towering robot companion, Herman (Martin Klebba). Together, they set out for the exclusion zone, hoping to prove that Christopher may still be alive.

The Russo Brothers didn’t just create the year’s biggest dumpster fire; they made a large metal trash receptacle on wheels filled with boxes of fireworks going off. It looks flashy, colorful, and expensive, as the filmmakers hope to use a barrage of bad CGI to cover up a story with little depth, unfunny humor, and—most importantly—such a lack of emotional connection that the big moment the film builds toward feels practically sterile. 

This marks yet another Netflix film where Millie Bobby Brown encounters characters with little nuance as the studio attempts to cash in on expensive streaming entertainment that hardly works. I’m worried she will be typecast in these roles when she should focus on mainstream scripts like Enola Holmes, highlighting her strengths, like verbal and physical comic timing. Meanwhile, Chris Pratt does his usual routine. He looks like a disheveled, unkempt surfer living out of his van, going off on tangents that combine comedic relief with product placement word vomit that never seems to end.

To summarize, The Electric State’s story and performances are paper-thin. The movie is a recycled effort, which is also an issue that should be pointed out with the source material. The approach is heavy-handed when the film tries to focus on its core themes. Essentially, this is an expensive story about collective synergy and the idea that “family is what you make it.” Yet, it lacks cohesion and, even worse, fun—pure cotton candy cinema at its worst.

You can now stream The Electric State only on Netflix!

Grade: D-

Director: Ami Canaan Mann
Writer: Julia Fisher Farbman
Stars: Natalie Dormer, Clancy Brown, Jimmi Simpson

Synopsis: 1969. Dr. Audrey Evans joins world-renowned children’s hospital and battles sexism, medical conventions, and the subterfuge of her peers to develop revolutionary treatments and purchase the first Ronald McDonald House, impacting millions.

There is perhaps no other genre quite as maligned as the ever-present biopic. I have been one of its many detractors as every year we are inundated with “important stories” or tales of untold greatness; from Lee to A Complete Unknown. It is no longer enough to tell these stories in a straightforward way. Because we are all aware of the tropes and signals of biopics, only the greats, like Oppenheimer or The Social Network, will stand the test of time. The rest, well meaning as they may be, are likely to be watched and forgotten. One of the reasons that the above examples are lasting is due to their decisions to focus on specific sections of their subject’s life. But the exact section matters. 

Audrey’s Children is the latest on the biopic train, focusing on Dr. Audrey Evans. Evans pioneered treatment for Neuroblastoma, an incredibly deadly form of cancer which, before her advancements, killed 90% of patients, many of which were young children. She was also the Chief of Pediatric Oncology at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. Further, she was one of the founders of the Ronald McDonald House, helping to provide housing for millions worldwide. And herein lies the problem. Choices must be made in what to cover, and for how long in a standard two-hour film. Entire movies could be made about the founding of the house, about her struggles bucking up against a misogynist system, or about her new treatment strategies. 

The film, instead, covers all of these areas. Director Ami Canaan Mann does an admirable job of balancing all of these ideas, from a script penned by Julia Fisher Farbman. The film begins with Audrey (Natalie Dormer) immediately making waves on the staff in Philadelphia, including Dr. C. Everett Coop (Clancy Brown) and Dr. Dan D’Angio (Jimmi Simpson). Dormer expertly performs the role with equal parts good humor, hardened focus, and kindness. This is a difficult performance that feels effortless, as all of these many plots hinge on Dr. Evans being both aspirational and charismatic.

The movie mostly gives lip service to the assumed sexism she must have faced before reaching the heights of her profession. This is understandable given the incredible life and accomplishment of Dr. Evans. Audrey’s Children has to make room for her research, her connection with her patients (the titular children), her incredible passion and intelligence, battles with hospital administrators, and even a burgeoning romance with Dan. None of these plotlines are problematic, in and of themselves, but the story seems a bit out of balance. 

All of that being said, it is nearly impossible to not be moved by this incredible story. After all, the focus is children literally dying from cancer. Really, the moments where the film loses its motivation is when it is forced to set the time and place. One can almost feel the effort being made, despite little payoff. Although the production design (Amber Unkle) and costume design (Sarah Maiorino) do an admirable job, the film ends up looking just slightly muted. Audrey’s Children is at its best when focusing on the intensity of Dr. Evans and her relationships. Her back-and-forth conversations with Coop ring true, if a bit too focused on capturing the look of future Surgeon General. On the other hand, Simpson and Dormer together, though chaste, have an immediate spark and connection that is impossible to ignore. Despite the romance being a B plot, every time they are together, we simply want more. His gentleness, paired with her passionate desire for both life and the children afflicted by Neuroblastoma, makes for a relationship that pulls the movie forward despite its crowded screenplay.  

As the film moves through her many accomplishments in the second half, it moves with a speed that is staggering in comparison to the rest of the plot. It plays as a bit of a greatest hits montage, and there is where the frustration can creep in again. The sheer amount of good that Dr. Evans has done, in many different arenas, ends up being what holds Audrey’s Children back from greatness.

This is a good, honorable story to tell. Despite many wonderful performances, a story worth telling, and emotional connection, Audrey’s Children will not be seen as one of the greats of this particularly difficult genre. However, it nowhere near the bad side of the biopic. Dormer, Simpson, and Brown all make this a worthy, if eventually forgettable watch.

Grade: B-

Director: Marc Webb
Writer: Erin Cressida Wilson
Stars: Rachel Zegler, Gal Gadot, Andrew Burnap

Synopsis: A princess joins forces with seven dwarfs to liberate her kingdom from her cruel stepmother the Evil Queen.

As easy as it is to attack the Disney live-action remake machine, there is certainly a variety when it comes to quality. Cinderella (2015) is the gold standard, taking advantage of visual flourishes and an astounding villain performance. On the other side of the spectrum lies The Jungle Book (2016), a film so tedious that one struggles to remember anything about it besides Bill Murray half-heartedly voicing Baloo the Bear. As adults, it is important for us to remember two things. First, these movies are not primarily for us as an audience. They exist to pass the torch from father and mother to son and daughter. These stories, for better or worse, are the closest that we have to an oral tradition. Secondly, despite the perceived lack of originality, these movies can be done well.

Snow White does not manage this in nearly any way. This is the story you know, mostly only in name, and that is not inherently a problem. This version of Snow White (Rachel Zegler) is much more active, as opposed to her namesake who essentially had a snack and a nap. This Snow was raised by a King and Queen and taught that the right way to live was through sharing resources among all of the subjects. Of course, very quickly, Snow White’s mother takes ill and dies. After, the woman who would become The Evil Queen (Gal Gadot) enters, marries Snow White’s father, and eventually sends him off to war, never to be seen again. Snow White essentially becomes a servant to the Queen and is struggling to find a way to help her people. After helping a dashing thief, Jonathan (Andrew Burnap), escape she eventually meets the dwarves and a group of bandits pushing Snow along her journey. The film, oddly, is a bit of a greatest hits of Disney, featuring introductory art that looks like Sleeping Beauty, a servant subplot that feels like Cinderella, and the costume of the original Snow White.

Rachel Zegler is the only person who manages to come out of this troubled film unscathed (the internet’s monsters, notwithstanding). That poor woman’s arms must be exhausted from carrying this movie toward being almost watchable. It is no secret that she is a talented singer (watch West Side Story (2021) for proof). Here, she manages to make the uninspired new songs from Pasek and Paul worth listening to for her tremendous performance, and is able to breathe new life into the classic songs from the original Disney version. She even managed to uplift most of her scene partners, both human and hideous CGI creations. Most, but not all. 

Much has been said about Gal Gadot’s poor performance as the Queen and, somehow, the negativity goes nowhere to describing the pain she puts the audience through. Her line readings are terrible, as expected, but sadly, it does not stop there. Director Marc Webb, along with screenwriter Erin Cressida Wilson, decide to give her a musical number explaining that she is essentially a mean girl and there are almost no words to describe the experience. This extremely extended sequence, choreographed by Mandy Moore (La La Land), is full of exaggerated hand motions, missed notes, and leaves you begging for the end. It seems almost like a Mel Brooks musical moment, but played painfully straight. We talk (too much) about nepotism and its effect on the film industry, but here we have pretty privilege running amok. There is no possible way that she was the best person they could find for this role and every time she is on screen, fashion moments aside, Snow White comes to a screeching halt. Her acting makes us pine for the days of Angelina Jolie as Maleficent, an actual performer who owned the screen instead of making us turn away from it. When she becomes a hag, the continued poor effects work matches her acting prowess.

One of the biggest problems that this film has is the lack of true laughs or enjoyment. Is this because the dwarves all look horrifying? Only partially. The “jokes” aren’t funny, unless you consider the fact that a possible regent is supporting a share and share alike political system. Of course, with a large corporate identity like Disney, one cannot expect anything truly radical. This is the best we can hope for and a good message for children. It is just a shame that the movie surrounding it, both visually and narratively, is so excessively sloppy. 

As much as we hope for a remake that takes chances and shows us something we could not see in our old clamshell VHS days, it still has to be done well! Once your eyes adjust to the uncanny valley of dwarves that are supposed to be both comic relief and have character journeys, it becomes ultimately clear that Snow White had nothing but a few good ideas, along with a perfect lead. Sadly, this, and all movies have so many moving parts, so many variables that can affect the end output. This simply has too much working against it. Middling direction, poor writing, horrifying animated characters, and the blackest hole one can imagine in its antagonist. Snow White might keep children mildly entertained for its runtime, but it will not be destined for repeat watches, even in the most pro-Disney home.

Grade: C-

Director: David Yarovesky
Writer: Mariano Cohn, Gastón Duprat, Michael Arlen Ross
Stars: Bill Skarsgård, Anthony Hopkins, Ashley Cartwright

Synopsis: A thief breaking into a luxury SUV realizes that he has slipped into a sophisticated game of psychological horror.

This summer will likely be the summer of the gritty thriller genre. Novocaine has been out already exceeding box office expectations. Black Bag brings a twist on the spy thriller genre game with two hot leads and a hotter director. Now, David Yarovesky’s Locked releases in cinemas with much anticipation, and for good reason. It is one “Highway to Hell,” a rollercoaster ride of a movie that delivers everything it sets out to achieve.

Last year, I watched Bill Skarsgård in Boy Kills World and I wasn’t impressed. I felt that he needed a better film to place him as one of the upcoming movie stars of a turbulent, unpredictable period in the film industry, where nothing makes sense anymore, and the ebb and tide can crush a promising young actor in a minute. Then they released Nosferatu, but it was more of a Lily-Rose Depp star vehicle than Skarsgård’s, and even as he received praise, he still needed something worthy of putting his face on the screen.

This is where Locked comes into play. Some of the most enjoyable 95 minutes of my life, a film purely made for the big screen and one, that if someone is a thrill seeker or a midnight moviegoer like me, then this is the film to buy a ticket for. The claustrophobic survival thriller is an ongoing horror ride, one where the moment our protagonist enters the demon car -yes, that’s what I call it- nothing slows down. The action-packed flick goes on from there to draw in lovers of Skarsgård but also those on the hunt for the action movie that would keep them pressed to their seats, unaware of the passing time.

Formalities first: Eddie is a down-on-his-luck petty thief, a former delinquent with a baby face and family baggage. To pay a debt, Eddie breaks into a luxury SUV, thinking it’s his lucky day, but his labyrinth of pain starts when he hears the car owner’s chilling voice enthusiastically explaining Eddie’s dire situation as a hostage of the Death Proof-like automobile. The fun begins, and it feels like a sophisticated Jigsaw trap between Eddie and William (Anthony Hopkins), and with Skarsgård’s star power and Hopkins’s chilling performance, it can’t get any better. It’s “Eat the Poor” as if the rich are given the chance to strike back after a series of now predictable films about the working class rising to flip down the social order and consume the rich. Now the rich get their payback time and it’s so fun to watch.

Events unfold quickly without losing Eddie’s sense of humanity, whom audiences slowly warm up to as the harsh cases of his imprisonment become more and more emblematic of the sinister nature of William’s faux moral system. William exacts his punishments like a scary Biblical figure, his utter dismissal of Eddie’s vulnerability seems baffling, but as the film progresses it becomes clearer where his disturbing moral code stems from, and it’s a fun cat-and-mouse game between two wonderful actors.

Locked would have never worked out without the stellar performance from both leads, Skarsgård and the veteran Hopkins who mostly appears as a cold, detached, psychopathic voice. But the credit goes more to Skarsgård, who is at his best here, flipping from anxiety, bitterness, and rage, all the way to despair. Playing a character out of his comfort zone -which is primarily nonexistent at that point- he bares his beautiful face, but uses the physicality of a down-on-his-luck man, creating an illusion of fractured beauty, a man beaten down by life and its cruelty left its marks on him. He basically acts with himself, a one-man show for the masses, and Bill’s girlies are in for a treat because even with blood pouring down his face and some mild gore (and gross out) moments, he looks hotter than ever.

Locked doesn’t weigh itself down by asking questions or giving answers. It doesn’t set a firm line between victim and perpetrator and in that lies its magic. The magic of that obscure action thriller that one discovers randomly on a trip to the movie theater, oblivious to the buzz of film tweeters and movie recommendation channels. Go watch it on a big screen where it belongs.

Grade: A

Director: Jon Gunn
Writer: Jon Gunn
Stars: Zachary Levi, Jacob Laval, Meghann Fahy,

Synopsis: When Scott and Teresa LeRette learn that their son Austin is both autistic and has brittle bone disease, they initially worry for their son’s future. But with Scott’s growing faith and Austin’s incredible spirit, they become ‘unbreakable’, finding joy, gratitude, and courage even in the most trying times.

As distressing as it is that quote-unquote inspirational, faith-based dramas continue to get made on a churn-happy assembly line that is somehow only slightly less bankrupt than the films it produces, it’s relatively easy to understand why once you’ve suffered through one. So long as an audience member is unwilling to ask any questions of the substance being violently jammed down their esophageal tubes over two hours and change, these movies have the Power™ to make people feel better about themselves. Most of the time, those behind the one-way mirror supplying this force believe that they are doing so in a manner that their God would approve of, hence the “no questions asked” policy that many viewers believe should be the de facto rule when it comes to their adulation for such works. You might have noticed that most Sound of Freedom truthers were happy to take umbrage with any minor theatrical inconvenience that disrupted their screening of 2023’s most problematic (and, domestically, 10th-highest grossing) feature presentation, but questions about whether or not the film stokes the QAnon movement’s favorite conspiracy theories should not be levied so long as they reside in one of the 50 glorious United States of America. (Or are we at 51… have we commandeered Greenland yet?)

For these reasons – among other, similarly pitiful ones – the folks at Angel Studios and their brethren alike continue to creep in their petty, cinematic pace from day to day, with Kingdom Story Company being but one of the growing many. The Lionsgate offshoot behind Ordinary Angels (shockingly solid), the KJ Apa vehicle I Still Believe (uhhhhhh…), and Jesus Revolution (UHHHHHH…) were built on the ideology (and reliable profits) of films by the Erwin Brothers and, since 2019, have had their clasped hands in nine different projects, all of which manage to sound and look like the same sunny glint from the heavens that repeatedly takes on the most basic, rudimentary approach to personal growth.  If ChatGPT has yet to develop a Biblical arm, it’s probably being programmed by someone in their ranks. Thoughts and prayers, as they say. 

Case in point: Jon Gunn’s The Unbreakable Boy, though with this film, the top believers somehow stumbled even further into the depths of Hell by doubling down on their Zachary Levi stock. Just four short years after RFK Jr.’s could’ve-been running mate starred as Kurt Warner in Kingdom’s production of American Underdog, the odyssey of a grocery store shelf stocker who became a Hall of Fame quarterback, all thanks to the man above, Levi returns here as Scott, the man in need of a spiritual awakening. Will it come in the form of a relationship with Teresa (Meghann Fahy; innocent, methinks) that is rushed along by a surprise pregnancy after date number three? As a cause of that eventual birth, one that brings Austin – their autistic son who also has the same Osteogenesis imperfecta (“brittle bone” disease) as his mom, though hers is a mild case – into the world? The revelation that his heavy, midday-to-midnight drinking might represent a real problem? 

It should come as no surprise that the answer to all of the above is “yes,” both because The Unbreakable Boy is based on the true story of the LeRette family, one to which it is ostensibly faithful, and because there’s no other direction for the film to go. Once Austin (Jacob Laval) is introduced, the film’s title is given a physical and supposedly emotional representation, but even his most compelling moments in this anecdote-based sketch of a character’s life feel like offramps deliberately implemented to provide Scott with a way through what the film believes to be an infinitely more complicated journey. To make matters worse, Gunn’s most concerted efforts to make what could have been the heartwarming tale of a theoretically-different kid’s discovery that it was never his job to fit in, but for others to accept him for who he is, seem designed to bolster audience satisfaction scores. Remember, as long as we end a movie feeling validated re: how we’re all good people, it doesn’t matter what the movie actually has to say, how it says it, or if it bothers going beyond the surface at all.

Every introduction of a new character aims to serve this same goal. Scott’s parents (Patricia Heaton and Todd Terry) only pop up to give Austin a less enthusiastic hug than they gave their other grandchild, Logan (Gavin Warren), or to reassure their son that his bad choices don’t define him. Teresa’s sister (Amy Acker) essentially does the same, reminding the former that Scott is nothing like their Dad; his drinking went on for years, she says, while Scott’s has only been a real problem for… well, about a decade, but still! The two men Scott can regularly confide in come in the forms of his lifelong imaginary friend-slash-conscience, Joe (Drew Powell) and their local church’s preacher (Peter Facinelli), whose bond with Scott grows as they discover they have much more in common than just the Higher Power they theoretically share. 

Above all of its many detracting elements, The Unbreakable Boy can’t even be bothered to mine the right lessons from its painfully obvious set pieces. That is, if there are “right” takeaways to be had, given how thinly they’re all drawn. Attending, let alone speaking at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting should be categorized as a step in the right direction for any human being who struggles with such a cunning, baffling, and powerful disease, but Gunn’s film treats each of Scott’s revelations in those settings like the aforementioned Warner probably felt each time he won his way to a Super Bowl. When Scott and Teresa fight for their son’s right to stay at the school that opted to direct the family to a care center more capable of aiding Austin’s special needs, it’s the teachers and students who are afforded an assembly to celebrate their hand in bringing him back, not his family nor the unbreakable boy himself. Even as the narrative crawls its way toward its inevitable, cloying conclusion that Austin was always going to be the one to fix his dad, not the other way around, it’s hard to buy any of it given the common knowledge that its star supports an administration that believes vaccines cause neurodivergence. One can only hope that Levi’s insistence on how it was less important to save his career than to vote the way he did actually has some real ramifications. 

That prayer might make its way from moviegoer’s mouths to God’s ears, but if Kingdom-esque companies have anything to say about – and they are literally the ones who have something to say about it – it will only be a matter of time before his beliefs and those of others like him (looking at you, Caviezel) will be plastered across yet another poster and/or trailer urging us to open our hearts to love and acceptance. (At the moment, Kingdom Story has four films in various stages of production.) What’s ironic is that the studio has yet to open their own hearts to anything that isn’t already festering within the dingy cavern pumping blood, oxygen, and blindness to the brain. The Unbreakable Boy is no different, a shortsighted, ill-conceived document that proclaims to have seen the light while it only actually cares about banging the drum its makers have been recycling since they opened their doors. The shell is hollow; if only the noise it unfortunately continues to create wasn’t so loud. 

The Unbreakable Boy will be available to rent on PVOD on April 4.

Grade: D