Director:  David Bushell
Stars: Tommy Chong, Cheech Marin

Synopsis: Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong discuss their lifelong friendship and popularity as a comedic duo. Features interviews, sketches and never-before-seen footage spanning their five-decade career.

Cheech and Chong are my unofficial uncles. At least, it has felt that way with their presence in some of my earliest childhood memories. Outside of hearing their voices in family-friendly fare such as Ferngully and The Lion King, my late father made the dubious parental decision to share with me some of his favorite Cheech and Chong bits and scenes during my first decade of life. As something of a long-haired hippie type himself before becoming a respectable family man, he was in exactly the right time and place to be hit hard by the wave of these comedy legends. With Cheech and Chong’s Last Movie, the pair come together for the first time in a while for a substantial feature outing, and this time they are looking back on their journey to this moment. As with any time you catch up with family, you are going to hear some stories you have heard before, but there is always a revelation casually dropped that will make you glad you checked in. 

The journey begins with a present-day Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong driving in a car as a montage of some of their career highlights acclimate newcomers to their general vibe. This is no road trip documentary in the vein of Will & Harper—it is made quite apparent that the drive is pure artifice for the two to interact in the present as a gateway to telling the story of their past (longtime fans will appreciate that they are searching for “Dave”). The line between documentary and fiction film often feels a bit hazy; at one point, Cheech asks, “Is this a doc or a movie?” Neither party seems particularly sure about this point, but it is clear that some exchanges have been telegraphed ahead of time, while a few genuine moments struggle through. The latter is when the movie springs to life, and, tragically, this is a very small part of the trip. 

For the most part, this feature follows the general template for celebrity retrospective documentaries. Each performer gets the chance to tell tales of their childhood woes. Tommy was othered as Chinese-Canadian in Vancouver, while Richard Anthony “Cheech” Marin was going through similar tribulations as a Mexican-American living in South Central. The linear progression is familiar, but director David Bushell attempts to make things a bit more lively with original animated recreations accompanying archival footage and the modern reflections from the car. There is a surprising amount of ground to cover before the duo even meet one another including tuberculosis, infidelity, draft-dodging, the consideration of a religious calling, writing an R&B hit, and more. The two comedians feel the most forthcoming during this half of the film, possibly because they don’t have to consider the other’s feelings. 

Of course, the two eventually meet by chance, and we get to see the gentle build to becoming some of the first “rock and roll comedians.” Audiences are treated to the lore behind some of their most famous bits, the dirt behind business decisions with key collaborators, and project-by-project excavation of the impact it had on their friendship and creative partnership. All of this information is baseline entertaining and enlightening if you care at all about the subjects. This may not make it an exceptional documentary, but it generally accomplishes what it sets out to do. 

The film only begins to touch on something truly surprising during the last twenty minutes or so, as the documentary begins to explore the deterioration of their partnership. Tommy admits that he wanted to be in charge as the director of their projects to ensure his vision of their legacy was protected, leaving his voice as the final say in any matter. Cheech reveals he built up a resentment from feeling like he did not have a voice in his own comedy team. The two still have clashing points of view as to why things unfolded as they did, and the experience of watching them drop the artifice and dive into the discomfort is gripping for the small stretch it occurs. These are the moments when you actually feel as if you are reaching a form of truth. 

The trouble with this is that the discomfort is swatted away so quickly in service of a pleasant ending and a fade to black that you suffer major tonal whiplash. The movie already feels a bit on the long side thanks to a bloated midsection, but you would forgive it if more time were spent with the honest dialogue and bonding. Going into the picture, you know the subjects are participating with their full cooperation, so there is going to be a limit to what they are willing to share. Even within such confines, it is up to a director to be a good tonal shepherd for the audience, and Bushell does not always hit that mark. Nevertheless, the subjects are so much fun with such a rich history that you are bound to have a good time; you will just know that there is a more rewarding version of this film in a different universe. 

Grade: B-

Director: Daniel Minehan
Writers: Bryce Kass, Shannon Pufahl
Stars: Daisy Edgar-Jones, Jacob Elordi, Will Poulter

Synopsis: Muriel and her husband Lee are about to begin a bright new life, which is upended by the arrival of Lee’s brother. Muriel embarks on a secret life, gambling on racehorses and discovering a love she never thought possible.

The post-World War II baby boom and subsequent decades are among some of the most romanticized eras in American history. Hundreds of thousands of folks flocked to newly developed parts of the country as suburban housing began popping up rapidly around growing cities. Men worked tough jobs, while their wives stayed home to keep up the house and raise the kids. It was an exciting time, and film often shows it to be one of the best times to be alive in this country. So much opportunity was available that all you had to do was put yourself out there, and you could be successful just like everyone else. 

At first glance, it certainly seems that way, considering the state of our country today. But the problems of today plagued us back then, as showcased in Daniel Minahan’s latest film, On Swift Horses. Adapted from Shannon Pufahl’s novel of the same name, the film follows Muriel (Daisy Edgar-Jones) and Lee (Will Poulter) as a newly married couple trying to achieve the American Dream in San Diego, California. Parallel, and at times interwoven with their story, we see Lee’s younger brother Julius (Jacob Elordi) as he struggles to stay afloat along his travels as a gambler, casino worker, and gay man. 

The opening scene sees Julius visit Lee and Muriel at her late mother’s Kansas home. Something sparks in Muriel the second she meets Julius, something that she chases for the rest of the film. They are drawn together in an unspoken yet unmistakable way, one that they subconsciously don’t bring up around Lee. From here, the rest of the film shows the parallel journeys of Muriel and Julius as they are continually trying to find their footing in the new spaces they find themselves in

On Swift Horses is beautifully shot, evoking that American exceptionalism by framing this period piece with exquisite detail and precision. Luc Montpellier’s work behind the camera is slow and steady, with little flair to take note of. His patient eye captures both city streets and vast landscapes with a quiet beauty that is a force to be reckoned with. In many ways, the cinematography sets the slow-burn tone the film carries right to the end. 

The film’s later stages get a burst of energy from the entrance of Henry (Diego Calva), a fellow card cheat and coworker with Julius at a Las Vegas casino. The two quickly fall in love and begin meeting in secret at Julius’ motel. Calva’s performance offers the more assured version of what we’ve seen of Julius. Willing to take risks outside of the motel, he pushes Julius to be freer and more self-confident. Elordi’s moody meandering (reminiscent of his role in Oh, Canada) is challenged by Henry’s more fun, reckless lifestyle. Even someone as magnetic as Julius meets his match here. 

Bryce Cass’s script frankly doesn’t give most of its characters much to do, save for Muriel. She’s the one character that seems to have a full arc, while Lee and Julius remain pretty stagnant. Edgar-Jones is solid as Muriel, and plays the quietly dissatisfied suburban wife with a lot of nuance. After finding herself trapped in the classic boring suburban dream, she becomes taken with betting on horses. This journey leads to a lot of thrills as well as a realm of self-discovery that she never imagined. 

On Swift Horses attempts to tackle several mindsets and social norms from the time: the American Dream, sensibilities on homosexuality, and the place of women in suburban society. From the jump, Muriel doesn’t seem thrilled about the prospect of getting married and heading west to find a small house in a neighborhood with Lee. This picture-perfect life that Lee has dreamt of since being in Korea should be all they can ask for, but she’s just not as enamored with it as he is. Her spot in the home is to look nice and support him in his work. In a world like this, it stands to reason that women like Muriel have a lot of time on their hands and a lot of time to find things to keep secret. Early in the film, she finds success with her horse betting but keeps her major winnings a secret from Lee. 

At this time, even out west in more progressive states like California, being gay was frowned upon by most. There are very few places where people are free to be fully themselves, and both Julius and Muriel find those around them who have managed to build a secure enough life to be fulfilled in their desires while also masking them from others. Even Lee can’t bring himself to fully talk about what he knows of Julius’ sexuality. All he can say is, “He’s different from us.” 

On Swift Horses is the definition of a slow burn, with beautiful people and beautiful cinematography at the forefront. With the novel receiving mixed reviews, it’s a peculiar choice for an adaptation, but the visual medium gives an interesting look into the longing and dissatisfaction found in this era of American progress. While it may be quiet, it’s a deeply human story that doesn’t pass judgment on its characters and paints a realistic portrait of what this kind of life looked like. 

Grade: B

Director: Maurice O’Carroll
Writer: Maurice O’Carroll
Stars: Ciara Berkeley, Chrissie Cronin, Sinead O’Riordan

Synopsis: Set backstage at a major boxing event, a young boxer is plunged into a tumultuous journey from the dressing room to her ring walk in a night of deceit, betrayal, and life-altering decisions.

People forget about the mental toughness it takes to be a boxer. The mind games your opponents and your own brain play out before a bout can take a great fighter down faster than the hardest uppercut. One good punch from an opponent in the ring and it’s all over. Once the heart is out of the fighter, the head goes with her and she’s done for.

That’s where the deftness of writer/director/editor Maurice O’Carroll’s concept of the backstage of a boxing match comes in. Swing Bout isn’t about fighting with fists, it’s about fighting the demons of doubt and anxiety that plague a boxer before and after her match. To combat this mental war, Toni (Ciara Berkeley) has a voice in her headphones, The Guru (John Connors). He guides her with motivational words and builds her confidence in her abilities. Every time she has a verbal sparring match with her opponent, Toni just gets her headphones on and tunes everything out. These snippets of courage give the film a sense of grandeur that one expects from a boxing film even if there’s no boxing in it.

With all of the action taking part backstage, we don’t get to see how the fighters fare in the ring, but the anticipation of the fight is tense enough. In the final training sequence, we are treated to O’Carroll’s editing prowess as he lets the sound of the current bout in the ring play over both Toni and Vicki (Chrissie Cronin) as they punch their trainer’s mitts. O’Carroll cuts between the two fighters as if it’s them in the ring battling each other. They fight hard even though it’s just training. It’s a brilliant scene to include, especially as we will never get a better glimpse at how these two fight.

The problem with Swing Bout overall is that there is too much other than boxing, or mentally preparing for boxing, going on. Interpersonal relationships are important and the set up of Toni and Vicki’s matchup being “fixed” is key, but there are characters introduced who get short shrift or are never put into the main plot and become entirely superfluous. After hearing Mary (Megan Haly) and Bernie’s (Niamh Cremin) fight in the overhead we get an inspired bit of filmmaking where we know Mary has lost the fight, but in the medical bay and when she returns to the dressing room, we only see the back of her head. The extent of her injuries, physically and mentally, are a slow reveal and it adds to the anxiety felt by the remaining fighters waiting for their bouts. Yet, even as she’s given a dramatic turn in her story she is carted off without a resolution. The same goes for the tacked-on story of the troubles of Flann (Baz Black); a down, but not out, fighter who needs just one more chance. His story comes and goes without heavily affecting anything and makes you wonder if he should have been knocked out of the final film altogether.

Many of these side plots prove, while contributing to the pressure put on this one bout between Toni and Vicki, that the issues facing the promoters and the married coach and commentator are simply taking away from the intensity felt in the dressing room. This film cries out for more of Toni and Vicki and of Mary and Bernie. These fighters are the main event, but they get sidelined all too often.

In one of the best performances of the film, Chrissie Cronin as Vicki changes our perception of her entire character. Right up until she is in the final moments of her preparation she’s picking on Toni, threatening her, pacing like a predator stalking her prey. Then, as her father, who is also her coach, wraps her hands in tape, she begins to unravel from that persona to the scared and doubting woman underneath. Cronin handles this shift brilliantly and changes everything we know about Vicki and everything we understand about the merit of a boxer getting a professional shot. She is electric to watch and that added layer of character gives her a platform to shine.

Swing Bout spars with a lot of heady issues facing athletes as well as the darker side of professional sports. It has intriguing central characters and for a boxing film without any filmed boxing, Swing Bout delivers the tension of a championship bout. If it were more focused, Swing Bout would be near brilliance, but as it is, it is just a very good watch and a unique take on the backroom deals of professional boxing.

Grade: B

Director: David F. Sandberg
Writers: Gary Dauberman, Blair Butler
Stars: Ella Rubin, Odessa A’zion, Michael Cimino

Synopsis: A group of friends trapped in a time loop, where mysterious foes are chasing and killing them in gruesome ways, must survive until dawn to escape it.

David F. Sandberg’s adaptation of Supermassive Games’ Until Dawn is an adaptation in name only. Instead of directly transposing the 2015 interactive movie of the same name to the screen, and its “butterfly effects” to fit cinematic conventions, Sandberg and writers Gary Dauberman and Blair Butler create an original story set within the world of the game. That would’ve been fine if the story actively expanded upon the mythology that Larry Fessenden and Graham Reznick (unlike Sony, who did not credit the writers of the game during the end credits, I am giving them their proper recognition) built upon in the video game. However, it chooses to ignore all of that completely and instead make a conventional time loop movie that fundamentally misunderstands the core mechanics of terror at the heart of Until Dawn. 

The only tangible connection we have to the video game is the appearance of Peter Stormare, who reprises his role as Dr. Alan J. Hill, and traps a group of teenagers inside an endless time loop that forces them to relive their deaths over and over again, unless they survive the evening until dawn and break the loop. That’s about as far as I’ll go in describing what happens, because, to Sandberg’s credit, the movie does have some neat connections to the game within that specific story itself, and how each death brings them closer to something they do not want to become. 

That said, transforming the “butterfly effect,” which meant that players could make critical choices at pivotal turns in the game that would affect the story, with a time loop, may be the single most significant mistake that entirely sinks this supernatural horror movie. Of course, making an interactive live-action film is complicated, as illustrated by David Slade’s Black Mirror: Bandersnatch, which makes it understandable for Sandberg to want to stay away from doing something like this on a large scale. Yet, in not wanting to stage sequences that showcase how each choice the protagonists make affects their survival of the time loop, the movie becomes nothing more than a repetitive series of over-the-top deaths with very little thrills, and little to no tangible connections to genuinely titillate fans of the game. 

Sure, the use of nifty practical effects to visualize the most agonizing end for our protagonists is certainly fun, notably a sequence that sees them violently react to the water they’ve drunk in the most explosive fashion. It certainly has the most creative use of blood I’ve seen since Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance, but even the funniest – and most unexpected – sections of the movie become increasingly tiresome when they’re frequently repeated, diminishing the intended effect they had when first employed. What remains is a series of haphazard connections to the video game, which seem to have been added at the last minute instead of being integral to its plot development. 

Without giving much away, the integration of these elements is only there for the audience to artificially point and clap at the screen when they recognize something they’ve heard from the video game. There’s no tangible desire for Sandberg to genuinely expand upon the mythos of its creatures, or in the repercussions of a “butterfly effect.” It’s a time loop movie that has Until Dawn connections in it. If you removed those altogether, it wouldn’t make a difference in the plot, and in how the story eventually wraps up, fundamentally misunderstanding the core concept of Fessenden and Reznick’s approach to horror, not only in the cinematic aesthetic it appropriates, but also through its ludonarrative. 

Throwing all of that out of the window in making an Until Dawn movie seems as pointless as the idea of making a film based on what is essentially a movie, where the subtle choices you make affects the overall story. It also doesn’t help that its ensemble cast, comprised of burgeoning stars, can’t hold weight to the shoddy material they’re given, often producing unintentional bouts of hilarity rather than imbuing them with the same emotional textures the protagonists in the video game had. Even sequences with significant dramatic power fall flat, as they contain more than one jumpscares to keep the viewer on edge instead of letting the drama speak for itself. 

The end result is sadly insulting for gamers who have spent their time examining the lore beneath the actual game, and doesn’t feel like it holds as much reverence to the source material as Jared Hess did while making A Minecraft Movie. That’s something I never expected to say, since Sandberg does hold a formal edge over his contemporaries, and he does possess great skill in crafting neat transitions, particularly one at the top of his movie. But Hess understood something that Sanderg sadly doesn’t. When making a video game adaptation, of course you want to appeal to a broad audience, but your primary targets are the people who have played it and hold great appreciation for the game. That’s why Minecraft did so well – it understood that it specifically needed to target the gamers first before anyone else. If you fail the fans at the top of your Until Dawn film, who is this offshoot for?

Grade: D

Director: Paul Feig
Writers: Darcey Bell, Jessica Sharzer, Laeta Kalogridis
Stars: Blake Lively, Anna Kendrick, Allison. Janney

Synopsis: Stephanie Smothers and Emily Nelson reunite on the island of Capri, Italy, for Emily’s extravagant wedding to a rich Italian businessman, which is interrupted by murder and betrayal.

A Simple Favor introduced audiences to mommy vlogger Stephanie Smothers (Anna Kendrick) and her increasingly twisted friendship with the urbane and impeccably stylish Emily Nelson (Blake Lively). Paul Feig’s movie managed to balance satirical camp with a relatively satisfying thriller, proving that the Venn diagram between zucchini and chocolate muffin recipes for mommies and true crime obsession was, in fact, a circle. Warfield, Connecticut, a sweetly suburban town was hooked on the mystery surrounding Emily, her former novelist husband, Sean (Henry Golding), and Stephanie’s “problem solving” mind being put to use not only in providing handy hints for mommies and caring for Sean and Emily’s son Nicky (Ian Ho), but also “Nancy Drew-ing” Emily’s disappearance. 

By necessity to engage with Another Simple Favor, spoilers for the original movie follow. Emily Nelson turned out to be Hope McLanden who, with her twin sister Faith, killed their abusive father by burning him alive in the west wing of their sprawling home. On the run since the age of sixteen, Hope took on many aliases and formed close relationships with people who could give her money and security. Her sister, Faith, was less successful in shaking off her demons and re-emerged, only for Emily to have to put her down. Faith’s death provided an opportunity for Emily to collect on a large insurance policy Sean had taken out. It all would have been perfect if Emily hadn’t chosen to befriend Stephanie who turned out to be darker, cleverer, and more cynical than her cutesy “super-mommy” exterior belied. Long story short: Stephanie solved the mystery, Emily and Stephanie developed a grudging respect for each other (with the exception of Emily being happy to kill Stephanie), and Emily/Claudia/Hope ended up in prison.

Cut to years later where Stephanie’s son, Miles (Joshua Santino), is now on the edge of puberty and Stephanie is about to launch her book “The Faceless Blonde” about her experiences with Emily, when the woman herself enters the event – out of prison and about to be married in Capri. An event she rather forcibly invites Stephanie to attend by threatening a large lawsuit. “I’m the best thing to ever happen to you,” Emily tells Stephanie, along with a strange promise that she is going to spend the rest of her life trying to find ways to “thank” Stephanie for blowing up her life. The first act of “gratitude” is picking Stephanie to be her matron of honor — making it clear that this time Stephanie won’t be able to sleep with her husband.

The film opens with Stephanie under house arrest speaking to her mommies on her vlog. How did Stephanie end up arrested in Italy? Funny you should ask. Even funnier if you try to care. Feig and the screenwriters, including Darcey Bell, who wrote the novel the first film was based on, have decided that extreme camp trumps any form of actual plot. Someone decided the movie contains Blake Lively wearing impossibly glamorous outfits trading coded quips with Anna Kendrick there’s little else required to keep audiences entertained. Throw in Capri looking gorgeous, some hunky mafiosi, a sassy literary agent Vicky (Alex Newell), and a couple of gruesome murders that was enough. “Someone” was wrong.

Gathered at the wedding are Sean (Henry Goulding overacting), Nicky, Emily’s resentful mother-in-law to be Portia Versano (Elena Sofia Ricci) and Emily’s new beloved, crime family scion, Dante Versano (Michele Morrone) and rival Matteo Bartolo (Lorenzo de Moor). As a barbed “treat” for Emily, Portia also invited Emily’s mother Margaret (recast with Elizabeth Perkins taking up Jean Smart’s mantle) and Emily’s Aunt Linda (Allison Janney). Stephanie is clearly concerned Emily might be using the wedding as an excuse to exact her revenge, and Emily hints that could be the case if her mood goes that way. Once again the two “besties” feel each other out (verbally, no kissing this time) and the absurd behavior of almost everyone around them seems to be par for the course. 

Sean has taken to day-drinking and bitterly complaining about being present at the wedding of his ex who shot him; apparently forced to attend due to the “magic lawyers” who were able to get a self-confessed double murderer out of prison and able to travel internationally (don’t question how the magic lawyers work). Nicky is now a pre-teen with dyed hair who missed his mom and slightly resents his dad. Grandma Margaret is more gin soaked than the first film. Only Aunt Linda seems to be functioning on Emily’s side of the wedding aisle. Perhaps, considering the McLanden family, a little too functional.

If people found the first film to be a little too twist heavy they’re in for even more in Another Simple Favor but this time the twists are so ludicrous that the movie feels almost like a comedy sketch sending up the original. There’s an extremely green FBI agent (Taylor Ortega) on Capri whose original presence back in Warfield makes little sense. Stephanie has become very friendly with Detective Summerville (Bashir Salahuddin) presumably because of her amateur sleuthing adventures, but he, like Andrew Rannell’s fellow mommy, Darren, is back in America while all the action is in Italy. The action being Emily’s outfits, insane people, veiled and real threats, Stephanie’s “not that nice” side being brought out by Emily, and corrupt police serving the various Napolitano crime families whose fantastic wealth is the higher stakes game.

Trying to describe the plot is akin to welcoming an aneurism with every sloppy and ludicrous detail putting further pressure on a previously functional brain. Stephanie, who is supposed to act as the audience’s stand-in witnessing the shenanigans, doesn’t have enough quips to illustrate how overwhelmingly stupid the entire proceedings are. When she tells Emily she might be overdoing it on the outfits (there’s a hat that basically requires tent struts to keep it up), she’s underplaying how surface the film is. Jokes are dry and dusty, characters are profoundly stupid, and a sense of actual danger is missing because it’s impossible to care what happens to anyone in the movie.

A Simple Favor wrapped itself up quite nicely in the post movie “what happened to” epilogue. Forget everything they stated for Another Simple Favor. Forget subtlety, mystery, black comedy, social commentary on the suburbs and secrets… in fact forget almost every positive aspect of the first movie and be prepared for bonkers and badly done. The simplest favor you can do for yourself is to ensure you’re six martinis deep before you hit play on Another Simple Favor – you’re going to need them.

Grade: F

Director: Gavin O’Connor
Writer: Bill Dubuque
Stars: Ben Affleck, Jon Bernthal, Cynthia Addai-Robinson

Synopsis: Christian Wolff applies his brilliant mind and illegal methods to reconstruct the unsolved puzzle of a Treasury chief’s murder.

The Accountant 2, the sequel to the modest 2016 hit, is less structured, more fun, and big on action. It’s not nearly as exciting or well-crafted as the first, which featured a fascinating exploration of backstories and a mythology reminiscent of a graphic novel. The sequel is more interested in watching its neurodivergent protagonist step out of his comfort zone, engage in social situations, reunite with family, and follow wherever the wind may blow.

You could argue that The Accountant 2 is more fun—maybe even unpredictable—with a decent twist involving the film’s main villain. But throughout, I kept wondering: what was the point of the experience? The result is a film that feels more like one of those ’80s action sequels made just to cash in. The thing is, those movies were usually rushed to meet a deadline. Yet this Gavin O’Connor film took nine years to make, making it all the more puzzling that they couldn’t develop a stronger script that further explored the characters’ histories and how they got to where they are now.

The new chapter continues to follow Christian Wolff (Ben Affleck), our favorite accountant who is also a hitman with autism. It’s quite the gig—a killer for hire who can also launder money for some of the world’s wealthiest criminals. After moving on from a dinky strip mall and flying under the radar, he relocates his silver Airstream to a lot full of them. We can only assume he bought an Airstream dealership, living the dream under the cover of shiny silver anonymity.

However, Wolff is pulled back in when an old friend, Raymond King (Academy Award winner J.K. Simmons), the former Director of the Treasury Department, becomes the target of unknown assassins. King’s replacement, Treasury Agent Marybeth Medina (The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power’s Cynthia Addai-Robinson), contacts the Harbor Neuroscience Institute—a kind of Bat-Signal for Wolff. He reconnects with Justine (Allison Robertson, replacing The American’s Alison Wright, who is on the autism spectrum, bringing authentic representation to the role), his childhood friend with nonverbal autism, and communicates using a supercomputer-assisted system.

Where The Accountant 2 finds its groove is in turning the film into, essentially, a buddy comedy. That’s where the magnetic Jon Bernthal comes in, reprising his role as Braxton, revealed at the end of the first film to be Christian’s long-lost brother. Bernthal is electric here, effortlessly shifting between action star and comic relief—you just can’t get enough of him. His character is the foil to Affleck’s straight man, who still delivers his signature deadpan, dry humor through a neurodivergent lens. Braxton tags along with Christian, working alongside Medina as they hunt for an assassin tied to King’s case.

The script, written by Bill Dubuque, who also penned the original and several standout episodes of the Netflix series Ozark, leans more heavily into comedy this time. Affleck continues to display his dry wit, while Bernthal proves to be a natural comedic presence. The fact is, Braxton is the more compelling character here, often overshadowing Affleck’s Christian, and easily merits his own spinoff. However, the film’s central plot feels like a contradiction. It hinges on a convoluted setup meant to elicit emotional investment through a murder in the first act. Still, the reveal is well-executed, delivering a satisfying twist reminiscent of the best moments from the first film.

However, the film is incredibly uneven, becoming frenetic and shifting to a melodrama while wavering in tone and substance. One third plays as a buddy comedy, another as an ultra-violent action thriller, and the final portion aims for something heartwarming—bordering on manipulative—as it tries to showcase a team of students at Harbor working together to help Christian advance his mission. Unfortunately, the subplot involving the mysterious henchman is so underdeveloped and inconsequential that you’re left wondering why it was included at all.

You will undoubtedly be entertained by The Accountant 2—Lord knows there are worse ways to spend your cinematic escapism. Yet the film is so uneven, so lacking in a clear point of view, that it feels like an action-packed version of Whose Line Is It Anyway?—a story unfolding without a clear destination. You begin to wonder: if not for the likability of the actors, would the film hold up at all? Strip away the charm, and what’s left is a movie riddled with plot holes, coasting more on charisma than on meaningful, escapist substance.

You can watch The Accountant 2 only in theaters starting April 25th!

Grade: C

Director: Hwang Byeng-gug
Writers: Kim Hyo-seok, Hwang Byeng-gug, Yoon Soon-yong
Stars: Kang Ha-neul, Yoo Hai-jin, Park Hae-jun

Synopsis: In drug crime circles, ‘Ya-Dang’ informants sell criminals’ info. Criminals use this to reduce sentences, while law enforcement uses it for arrests. Ya-Dang, police and prosecutors form a key triangle.

Yadang: The Snitch begins in media res, introducing us to its protagonist, Kang-su (Kim Hyo-seok), in the middle of an interrogation as he attempts to extract critical information on a drug deal being made. Kang-su is now an expert informant, or “snitch,” in extracting the most important details before intervening with prosecutor Koo Kwan-hee (Yoo Hai-jin). After being framed for a crime he didn’t commit and getting a second chance at life with the prosecutor, Kang-su seems to be at the height of his “career” of swindling people and looking immaculate while doing it. 

All of this changes, though, as Kang-su becomes embroiled in a political scandal, which reveals that Cho Hoon (Ryu Kyung-soo), the son of South Korea’s top Presidential candidate, is a massive drug addict, and a video showcasing this is on the verge of getting out. With Kwan-hee being the candidate’s right-hand man, he silences Kang-su. The people surrounding him who also knew of Cho Hoon’s drug addiction, including police detective Oh Sang-jee (Park Hae-jun), and Uhm Su-jin (Chae Won-been), an actress caught in a similar drug scandal, after taking an unknown substance she thought were “vitamins” and testing positive for drugs, are also in trouble. 

A few months pass, and Kang-su finally regains the strength he needs to take all of the people responsible for his downfall out, leading to a classic revenge thriller that, while not reinventing the wheel, still ends up being admirable enough for a Saturday evening watch. What sets its apart from other revenge thrillers of the sort is its incredibly precise use of swift, invisible transitions that pull us further into its world than a line of dialogue would, especially when being tasked to visualize how the character feels inside a spiderweb of corruption that keeps expanding, making it impossible for Kang-su to fully eliminate it. 

This verve gives Yadang: The Snitch some formal edge that compels us to watch the film until the very end. Even if the beats are familiar and one knows that, once Kang-su teams up with Oh and Su-jin, they have more than one trick up their sleeves to bring the prosecutor’s entire corrupt operation down. In fact, the dramatic crux of the movie is its biggest weakness, despite Squid Game’s Kang Ha-neul modulating tangible comedic and dramatic registers. Sadly, the material he has to work with is fairly nonexistent, even when representing how difficult it is for an addict to quit drugs altogether. 

It gets even worse when a tragic event drastically changes their mission, a telegraphed moment that would give some emotional heft to the rest of Kang-su’s desires to see the prosecutor behind bars. Yet, that shockingly violent moment is quickly brushed aside in favor of an Ocean’s Eleven-like climax that, while perfectly executed, still leaves us with a sour taste in the mouth. It also doesn’t help that the narrative is frequently jumbled, between flash-forwards and flashbacks in time in rapid succession, one can easily lose sight of what exactly director Hwang Byeng-gug wants to discuss in his 122-minute thriller. 

It’s only when it reaches that aforementioned climax that one knows what Byeng-gug wanted to talk about all along, and he provides a potent anti-corruption message that hits much truer in this era. It also helps that this entire finale is slickly shot and edited, deceiving the audience to the very end until its denouement gives us the biggest smiles on our faces. No matter how corrupt the powerful may be, the people always have the last word and have the power to stand up, even if the ones on top may seem unstoppable. Spoiler alert: no one is, and if there’s anyone who will demonstrate this inextricable fact, it’s Kang-su, who will give power back to the hands of the people deciding the country’s ultimate fate, before being forced to make the wrong choice.

Grade: B

Director: Lorcan Finnegan
Writer: Thomas Martin
Stars: Nicolas Cage, Finn Little, Julian McMahon

Synopsis: A man returns to the idyllic beach of his childhood to surf with his son. When he is humiliated by a group of locals, the man is drawn into a conflict that keeps rising and pushes him to his breaking point.

Despite what our culture, especially when involving men, teaches, singular focused obsession is dangerous. Although there is a disturbing focus on “the grind” and getting what we are supposed to crave, that can be just as dangerous as consistent laziness. The car, the job, the perfect family image. All of these things are both worth striving for and a poisonous addiction. As we try to undo our mistakes and mistakes that we are saddled with, we must consider that sometimes it may be better to just walk away, or in the case of this movie, surf away.

The Surfer follows our eponymous protagonist (Nicolas Cage) as he has returned to a scene seemingly out of a perfect postcard. The film opens with him giving an obviously prepared monologue to his son (Finn Little) tying the idea of surfing to life. It is revealed soon after that he has traveled here to live, to buy a massive house on the hill overlooking the beach. Further, it was the house that his own father had owned before everything went south for the family.

Seems like a nice father-son moment, but it doesn’t quite work out that way. At this beach during this time, only locals can surf. As is repeated constantly in a threat, “Don’t live here, don’t surf here.” And no, no one cares that he used to live here and is in the process of trying to live here. This creates immediate tension which provides an enjoyable contrast from the idyllic setting. The visuals, shot by Radek Ladczuk, gives us an immediate understanding of why The Surfer wanted to return.

Due to this awkward situation, his son eventually leaves and the film quickly spirals into a trippy, strange, confusing journey into our protagonist’s mind and into the world of toxic masculinity. This toxicity is mostly shown through “The Bay Boys,” locals who run the beach, led by Scally (Julian McMahon). The film tries to thread two very difficult needles, and is only moderately successful with both.

The idea of these toxic men, many of them quite young, only works in moments. The violence and anger is so over-the-top that it borders on too comical. McMahon is the best of the bunch, as he offers at least a manipulative presence that has minor shades of grey, as opposed to literal screaming closeups of angry, young, white men. His sense of intimidation, aided by his striking voice and facial features, sells this much better than any amount of yelling possibly could. Additionally, there is so much room to explore this toxicity and have something to say, but The Surfer consistently falls short of this lofty goal. 

This is likely because the film also chooses to have Cage slowly lose his sense of reality. He stays in this horrific situation because of his desire to reclaim his place in this paradise as we are slowly shown some of the history he and his family have endured. This could have been an interesting character piece, but the decision to focus on a Cage spiral robs us of any real deeply felt emotion. That is not necessarily a net negative. There is no one better than Nicolas Cage to play an unraveling man. His performance, along with some clever use of fish eye lenses and unmooring camera angles certainly makes us feel as uncertain of the truth as The Surfer, himself. 

The Surfer is a strange movie, caught somewhere between being in love with the B-movies it idolizes and wanting to say something about family, home, and masculinity. It becomes an enjoyable watch as the performers go for broke, regardless of whether the audience is on the same page. There is certainly a joy in the absolute extra that director Lorcan Finnegan is able to pull from even these picturesque surroundings and actors. There are interesting questions initially posed (What does home mean? Can we fix our parent’s mistakes?) that deserve more focus than a starving, confused man, but through sheer force of nature, The Surfer, is still worth the experience.

Grade: C+

Director: Matt Winn
Writers: James Handel, Matt Winn
Stars: Alan Tudyk, Shirley Henderson, Rufus Sewell

Synopsis: Sarah and Tom are in deep financial trouble. Their situation takes a terrifying nosedive with the shocking behavior of their uninvited dinner guest, Jessica.

The title of Matt Winn’s black comedy of manners, The Trouble with Jessica,  immediately brings to mind Alfred Hitchcock’s classic comedy The Trouble with Harry but other than a somewhat inconvenient dead body compelling the plot, there is no comparing the skill of good old Hitch with Winn’s underdeveloped and predominantly under-acted farce. The audience might find themselves wishing to be in Jessica’s (Indira Varma) position – oblivious to what is happening around her.

Sarah (Shirley Henderson) and Tom (a muted Alan Tudyk) are having a special dinner party with their closest friends, Beth (Olivia Williams) and Richard (Rufus Sewell). Tom gets a call that Beth and Richard will be bringing Jessica. They all knew each other at university and Sarah is particularly bitter that Jessica has invited herself along. Jessica has just published a successful book and Sarah fears, or rather, knows that somehow, in true Jessica fashion, she will ensure the evening is all about her. 

Sarah and Tom’s beautiful North London home is due to be sold to cover debts incurred by Tom trying to finance his dream architecture project. Sarah hoped that the last dinner in their house will be a celebration. Instead, it becomes a night that will strip away all the middle-class politeness that existed between the group of friends: as Jessica says, “Stop the bullshit.”

Jessica has some acidic things to say about her friends. She calls Sarah an “adult fuck up,” criminal defense lawyer Richard a “charming amoralist,” his wife Beth who works in domestic violence support is “a po-faced do-gooder,” and Tom a “pathological dreamer.” Dinner heats up as Sarah and Jessica face off. Sarah resents Jessica’s narcissism and constant flirtations with Tom. Sarah reveals that Tom’s dream project has bankrupt them and the only way they can survive is to sell the house immediately. With two teen children to support, she snipes that Jessica has no idea what it’s like to have real problems that can’t be exorcised by a memoir of travel adventures and illicit love affairs. 

Whatever Sarah may think, Jessica has enough problems that she takes herself out to their garden and hangs herself. An act that leaves the group astonished and confused. It’s also an act that puts the essential sale of Tom and Sarah’s house in jeopardy. Sarah convinces Tom that calling 999 will lead to their ruin. They now need to convince Beth and Richard pretend Jessica’s suicide didn’t occur in their home, but rather at her own, and Sarah isn’t above blackmail to do so. A visit from the police due to the disconnected 999 call places everyone as an accessory to failure to report a death. From there, the cracks in the relationships between them all come to the surface in a pseudo-comedic “move the body” gambit.

Matt Winn and James Handel’s script had the potential to be a wicked farce, especially when it appears that night is when everyone wants to knock on Sarah and Tom’s door. From their elderly neighbor, Miranda, who wants to meet and congratulate Jessica (now deceased) on her book, to the buyer of the house; a German oil lobbyist named Klaus (Sylvester Groth). The problem is that only Rufus Sewell seem to have understood the tone of the work, meaning he stands out as apparently overacting because everyone else is underplaying their characters. There’s no great statement being made by The Trouble with Jessica – the fact that middle-aged couples grow tired of each other, and long-term friendships collect grievances over the years is hardly a revelation. Thus, the satire is almost non-existent, and the farcical elements get tiring quite quickly. A late attempt to add honest emotional weight to the film fails.

Of unfortunate note is the music composed by Matt Winn and Matt Cooper. It tries desperately to tell the audience that a scene is funny, chaotic, or serious in such an overbearing manner that the rest of the film is competing with it. Not that there is much competition offered with the all too obvious twists and the one running joke being a clafoutis made by Richard. When a cherry pudding is the gag the film keeps returning to, bland fare is the menu.

Other than Sewell trying to keep the energy and engine of the movie running, there’s very little else to recommend it. Shirley Henderson and Alan Tudyk are both accomplished comic actors, but they do extremely little to make anyone invested in their fate. Tudyk is particularly floundering as Tom whose main personality trait is “no personality.” Olivia Williams comes out of the film with her dignity intact, but Beth isn’t her finest characterization. Indira Varma manages to play movable corpse just fine – but as a living character, Jessica’s main trait seems to be “a bit of a bitch.”

The Trouble with Jessica not only misses its farcical marks, but it is also irritating when it’s trying to be funny and uninteresting when it’s not. Middle class hypocrisy is rote in British cinema and Winn’s work doesn’t manage to mine anything of consequence. I’d like to write something witty about The Trouble with Jessica but I don’t want to rub further salt in Matt Winn’s wounds by proving critics can be funnier than he is. The Trouble with Jessica isn’t pithy, it isn’t surprising, and it isn’t worth coming to the table for.

Grade: F

Director: Shinji Higuchi
Writers: Kazuhiro Nakagawa, Norichika Ōba
Stars: Tsuyoshi Kusanagi, Kanata Hosoda, Jun Kaname

Synopsis: Tension mounts aboard the Tohoku Shinkansen Hayabusa No. 60, bound for Tokyo, where a bomb is rigged to instantly detonate if the train’s speed drops below 100 km/h. As panic grips the passengers following the announcement of conductor Takaichi, the crew, passengers, and the Shinkansen General Operation Control Center race against time to avert disaster.

If you’ve seen Jan de Bont’s Speed, chances are you didn’t know that Junya Satō’s 1975 classic The Bullet Train was the precursor to such a movie, where a simple premise (in this case, a bomb planted in a high-speed bullet train that is set to explode automatically if it slows down below a certain pace) delivered high-stakes, non-stop thrills. Its revolutionary use of miniatures to visualize moments of pure, agonizing terror, as the train continues to encounter bumps while unable to slow down, still holds up to this day as a significant example of creativity that we seldom see in the filmmaking sphere anymore.

The funny thing about the film is that the miniatures are incredibly obvious, so much so that it breaks our suspension of disbelief. Yet, we become so riveted by Satō’s precise employment of crash-zooms and whip-pans to establish palpable, textured suspense in its sequences of walking-and-talking as a revolving door of characters attempt to defuse the bomb that we completely buy into the artifice of it all. That’s because Satō spends a good amount of his runtime giving personality and a tragic, urgent backstory to the antagonist, Tetsuo Okita, played by Ken Takakura, one of the great actors of Japanese genre cinema.

The final shot, while logical in its development and building up to its natural conclusion, acts like a true shock to the system. The frame turns pink and immediately slows down, giving the police the victory they wanted in apprehending the criminal responsible for such an ordeal. However, to the audience, such a denouement could’ve been prevented, and likely would’ve prevented unnecessary suffering. It’s an image that’s stuck with me ever since I saw the original, which is used as the foundation for Shin Godzilla co-director Shinji Higuchi’s Bullet Train Explosion, releasing on Netflix this week.

Part remake and reboot, this repurposed story for contemporary sensibilities stays excitingly tense and kinetic from the moment characters learn a bomb has been planted on the Tohoku Shinkansen Hayabusa No. 60. A key scene from the original film is modernized, as the bullet train must avoid clashing with another locomotive without slowing down, and its impact is much more visceral and intense than in Satō’s picture. Gone are the miniatures, we now have expensive CGI visualizing massive, larger-than-life explosions and crashes that are so death-defying it looks like a thrill ride plucked straight from the depths of Hell. Whereas the 1975 film had more realistic action based entirely on mounting tension, Higuchi’s reimagining is more explosive, and cartoonishly over-the-top. 

It simultaneously acts as a feature, especially when adrenaline-fueled scenes inside the train exaggerate the sense of tension at play to ridiculously silly heights, and a bug, when explosions are unrealistically large and defy all laws of physics. However, I’d be lying if I said none of it is terrifically entertaining, even if the reliance on CGI to craft the exterior sequences lacks the artistry of miniatures, where the limitless imagination of the director made us forget we were watching entirely plastic creations, as chintzy as it may look to viewers who have no sense of creating strong images with their mind.

That said, Higuchi is a smart enough filmmaker to at least prime us that this film is more digital than its analog predecessor, with its stacked cast of characters consistently “plugged in” on their devices and eventually utilizing them to document what’s happening in the train, while the political establishment attempts a diplomatic solution to end the bomb instead of acquiescing to the perpetrator’s demands. The social commentary doesn’t break any new ground, but it’s executed well enough that we do ultimately become invested in the large number of people who populate both the internal (on the train) and external (outside the train) conflict of the story.

However, Bullet Train Explosion eventually loses steam (pun absolutely intended) when it reveals the identity of the bomber. I will not spoil it in this review, but let’s just say that the differences are night and day between this version and the original, which spent more than half of its hefty 152-minute runtime to develop our connection with the antagonist, making the final shot all the more heartbreaking, despite the array of bad decisions he makes. Bullet Train Explosion is slightly leaner than The Bullet Train and doesn’t spend a good amount of the runtime on flashbacks, which could be a good thing if focused solely on the meat-and-potatoes of its primary story. Yet, it also barely develops the villain, despite a shocking moment introducing us to the character that could’ve worked in its favor, but isn’t at all fleshed out to its fullest potential.

From there, my interest in the film shockingly dwindled, because Higuchi doesn’t give us the same attention that Satō gave when creating a layered and complex villain that wasn’t simply a mindless terrorist who wanted to blow up a train. He had his reasons, and we completely understood his side of the story by the time we’re caught up to speed (this review contains many train puns for a reason) on his perspective. In Bullet Train Explosion, we have the motivations, but they’re so paper-thin that it won’t take long for you to unplug as it reaches a generic, paint-by-numbers climax with little to no emotional stakes for us to hold onto, despite well-mounted action scenes that are always a shot in the arm with adrenaline.

And then, the movie suddenly ends, without a final shot that’ll live in your retina forever, despite Higuchi’s gift at image-making, as illustrated in Shin Ultraman and his incredible short film Giant God Warrior Appears in Tokyo. It’s a rather unceremonious way to conclude a pretty agreeable time at the movies, despite its obvious inconsistencies dampening the enjoyment significantly. Truth be told, I never expected the movie to be as good as Satō’s original. However, I didn’t expect to feel completely indifferent by the time the credits rolled, despite having a good time in its opening sections with the bevy of thrills and mordant humor Higuchi offered, until it was completely nonexistent by the time it reached its climax. I won’t remember it by the time I’ve finished writing this review, while I may think about the final shot of The Bullet Train for the rest of my life…

Grade: B-