Directors: Zach Lipovsky and Adam Stein
Writers: Guy Busick and Lori Evans Taylor
Stars: Kaitlyn Santa Juana, Teo Briones, Richard Harmon, Tony Todd

Synopsis: Plagued by a violent and recurring nightmare, a college student heads home to track down the one person who might be able to break the cycle of death and save her family from the grisly demise that inevitably awaits them all.

Marcus Aurelius was dead long before the Final Destination franchise was even a scribbled note in creator Jeffrey Reddick’s notebook, but his idea that “death smiles at us all” is an unofficial pillar of the horror mainstay that has entertained audiences for the better part of 25 years. What’s missing is the idea that “all a man can do is smile back,” for as one or more characters in the series’ now six films love to say, “Death doesn’t like it when you fuck with his plans.” The Grim Reaper himself, hood and scythe and all, isn’t so much a character in these gory romps as he is a constant, the idea of a shadow lingering over his next many victims rather than a literal shadowy figure. But his ploy tends to be the same: Cheat death, and you’ll soon meet your maker, always in the order that was initially intended when your plane fell out of the sky, or your roller coaster came undone at its hinges, or the bridge on which your corporate retreat bus sat was moments away from crumbling beneath you.

The franchise’s newest feature, Final Destination Bloodlines, is not only the first in almost 15 years, but the first flick out of the lot to change up its tried-and-true formula, if only just. What tends to occur in the opening scenes of a Final Destination film is a massive calamity that takes the lives of most, if not all of the main characters we’ve been previously introduced to through overwritten banter and vague flirtation that hints at who’s in a relationship with who, only to reveal that said disaster was a premonition. One of the characters has inexplicably seen the future, and it’s not bright; they then do their best to remove their pals from the soon-to-be dire situation, typically succeeding and leading to the disruption in Death’s chain of kills. At the onset of Bloodlines, we’re transported back to the late 1960s, where Iris (Brec Bassinger) and her boyfriend Paul (Max Lloyd-Jones) are hoping to enjoy a fancy dinner at the Skyview, a new restaurant that – you guessed it – sits in the sky, as if the Seattle Space Needle had a fine dining establishment on its top floor. A series of troubling signs stick out to Iris, including a creaky elevator, 50-too many dancers on the restaurant’s glass floor (on which they stomp to the tune of the Isley Brothers’ “Shout!,” and a chandelier that looks all-too eager to fall from the ceiling. 

The only difference here is that the ensuing carnage isn’t so much a premonition as it is a nightmare, one that Iris’ granddaughter, Stefani Reyes (Kaitlyn Santa Juana), has been repeatedly jolted awake by, much to the disdain of her roommate. What Stefani can’t seem to figure out is why exactly she is plagued by this recurring terror; it’s only later that the gaps in our knowledge are filled in, most notably the fact that Iris’ night atop the Skyview actually happened, and though she saved a number of people prior to the disaster, Death eventually made up for lost time, killing them in the same order they were meant to die during the rooftop’s collapse. We get to see the event in full, thankfully; after all, this is a Final Destination movie, and one of those can’t go too long without a number of grisly kills, hypothetical or not. But that it didn’t happen as advertised in Bloodlines’ prologue is precisely what starts the domino effect of the film’s real-time tragedies, each passing one more grisly than the last. 

Bloodlines’ trailers and marketing materials have teased a number of setpieces – from a backyard barbecue gone wrong to one character’s closing duties at the local piercing parlor becoming more than he bargained for when he took the job – but there’s plenty more to enjoy, depending on how sick your taste is (and how much you can withstand before getting sick all over the theater floor). This, of course, has always been the draw to Final Destination, the aggressive, ridiculous nature of its many deaths and accidents. But where Bloodlines finds its true stroke of brilliance is in how it views death as a birthright, a genuine form of generational trauma that waits for the opportune time to strike. Iris escaped death, and has continued to avoid it for decades, not least because she’s spent most of that time hidden in a hut, estranged from her family. That doesn’t mean her family members will be so lucky.

As ever, the actors that play these sons, daughters, grandchildren, and nieces/nephews aren’t exactly worldclass, but the point of the Final Destination franchise is that they don’t have to be. The main attraction has always been (and will forever be) the gore-filled hijinks, like when blood spurts from a face that has been chewed up by a lawn mower or a metal rod goes flying through one’s eye socket. (These movies tend to love a good decapitation, or something adjacent and still involving the skull.) Credit to co-directors Zach Lipovsky and Adam Stein, the former of which being a special effects artist whose insight on that front have clearly been put to good use here despite the overreliance on digital blood and guts, a frustrating trend in modern horror that persists here. Nevertheless, they take what Guy Busick and Lori Evans Taylor have laid out on the page and bring it to splattered, bone-crunching life, often in ways that previous Final Destination entries have failed to explore. 

Where the franchise’s other films were more interested in how easily dimwitted high schoolers could be lured into Death’s clutches – whether they came in the form of a tanning bed or a public pool drain – Bloodlines is curious in multiple ways, from how a magnetic MRI machine could become a death trap to what it might actually look like for a group of people to come together in a collective effort to stop Death in his tracks. (The late, great Tony Todd also plays a part in furthering their unenviable quest, a fitting send-off for an actor whose sinister demeanor was always a calling card.) That said group is a family makes Bloodlines’ proceedings much more intriguing; not only does it provide us with something worth investing in, but it makes the characters inherently invested in one another. The teenagers and 20-somethings from past Final Destination offerings have almost always eventually given up on one another, either by rejecting the main character’s psychic episodes or by prioritizing their own survival over the inevitable demise of others. When it’s your brother or cousin on the chopping block, the stakes are higher. Even Bloodlines’ black sheep, the tattoo-covered Erik (Richard Harmon), becomes a sympathetic figure, one who is as eager to ensure his brother’s safety as he is to tempt Death at every turn.

And though it’s likely that no one who finds these flicks entertaining is itching for them to contain some heart, Bloodlines offers just enough of that thematic device to add an interesting, unforeseen wrinkle to its narrative. Final Destination’s emotional stakes tend to start and stop with the unconvincing relationships between its vaguely-attractive D-list stars, but to ask “wouldn’t you be scared if your family member was guaranteed to perish in a matter of days?” is as much a feat of genius as the franchise’s willingness to send a log through a character’s face when you least expect it. Lipovsky and Stein clearly understood their assignment here, that being to add a few new gadgets to its wheel, not to reinvent it. In that sense, the co-directors are a bit like Death: The way he strikes comes in various ways, but the result is always the same. Ditto for Final Destination; this execution, though, should be the blueprint moving forward.

Grade: B

Director: Min Kyu-dong
Writers: Kim Dong-wan, Min Kyu-dong
Stars: Lee Hye-young, Kim Sung-cheol, Yeon Woo-jin

Synopsis: An aging assassin with a knack for taking out society’s worst encounters a young protégé eager to learn the trade. As they form an unlikely bond, the veteran killer discovers fresh purpose in her twilight years of violence and routine.

Spoiler alert: The old woman does have a knife in The Old Woman with the Knife. Eventually, though, she carries a gun to eliminate a horde of baddies when a relatively simple situation begins to overcomplicate itself. But director Min Kyu-dong always goes back to the knife, at any given opportunity, because it’s “Hornclaw”’s (Lee Hye-young) weapon of choice. Hornclaw is the nickname she gave to herself after a traumatic event in her past led her to become the young protégé of an assassin. In her 60s, she now works for a secretive organization that specializes in killing the biggest of all vermin, but faces a new challenge when a young man with the nickname of “Bullfight” (Kim Sung-cheol) wants to work with her.

Of course, she works alone and accomplishes all of her assignments on her own. However, Bullfight is so eager to meet her that he always interferes with her work. What she doesn’t know, however, is his true identity, related to an event that has shaped the rest of his life ever since he was a child. That’s about as far as I will go without revealing a thing, as the pleasure of watching The Old Woman with the Knife is learning the story developments as the 124-minute runtime progresses.

It does, frequently, complicate itself as if it’s a piece of soap opera, but there’s never a dull moment inside Kyu-dong’s genre hybrid that goes from a nifty slasher to a poignant character drama so it can end with an action-filled climax sure to rock your world. The truth is that, as Hornclaw ages, she is beginning to question her place in this society and whether or not she is a good person, after all the harm she has caused for the better part of forty years. It’s only after meeting veterinarian Dr. Kang (Yeon Woo-jin) that Hornclaw begins to open up and potentially realize that she can, if she wants to, do some good on this planet as her time begins to dwindle.

Is it because she is finally reckoning with her own mortality – and age – that she has grown a conscience that is at odds with what she’s doing? Or is it because a figure from her past has come back to her life and wants revenge for what she has committed? It’s possibly the most unclear thematic (and narrative) thread of the whole movie, but it also continuously keeps us on our toes. The constant parallels to her actions in the present, which communicates with what she did in the past, is a great bit of associative editing that recurs as the film’s story develops. In fact, the editing is a massive highpoint of the whole package, notably a match cut so thrilling during the climax that I had to rewind my digital screener five times to properly sink in such a major visual cue.

And it’s incredible how it unabashedly steals from a known video game, to then cut to the exact image from that game (what it is, I’ll let you find out on your own) and get away with it. Few filmmakers are able to execute it like this, but it’s also part of the development of such a character like Bullfight, who associates his past with Hornclaw with the strong images he took away from his time with her. The movie will frequently cut to fragments of Bullfight’s past, as he interacts with Hornclaw, so the audience can understand his connection with her, and her connection with him, as well. It’s mutual, but since she doesn’t recognize him, the confrontation between the two is semi-complicated.

Had the film only focused on this particular aspect, it probably would’ve been one of the best thrillers of the year. Its action sequences are terrifically shot and cut, particularly the final knife fight. As much as Kyu-dong allows the old woman to carry more than just a knife, it eventually leads us back to the titular weapon and makes the audience observe her dexterity at manipulating such a dangerous object. In any event, the movie culminates in one of the year’s most thrilling finales, a terrific mélange of various fighting styles until the knife makes its grand return and directly shows us why Hornclaw is not to be screwed with.

As the protagonist, Hye-young imbues her with as much complexity as possible, especially when Kyu-dong develops her through fractured flashbacks, where she is played by Shin Si-ah. Both portrayals of the protagonist are equally affecting, from our understanding of the trauma she has turned into pure rage that feeds her violence, to her atonement of her past sins as she grows older. The relationship between Hornclaw and Bullfight is incredibly complicated, especially when she finds out his identity. Sung-cheol is also terrific in the movie, as a worthy opponent to Hornclaw, even if Kyu-dong eventually loses the meaning of that conflict through subplots involving the veterinarian and his daughter, and trying to build a shadowy organization for its assassins that feels highly reminiscent of the world of John Wick.

Yet, even with those hurdles, The Old Woman with the Knife succeeds in drawing an entertaining thriller with a few narrative tricks up its sleeves to keep the audience invested. It helps that it contains as much verve as it can to visually stimulate genre aficionados, especially when it’s executed so well. Do yourself a favor and go in as blind as possible, and you may end up appreciating it more when you reach the end credits…

Grade: B+

Director: Christopher McQuarrie
Writers: Bruce Geller, Erik Jendersen, Christopher McQuarrie
Stars: Tom Cruise, Hayley Atwell, Ving Rhames

Synopsis: Our lives are the sum of our choices. Tom Cruise is Ethan Hunt in Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning.

Every entry in the Mission Impossible franchise contains one non-negotiable constant. Beyond the obvious institutions, of course, like Tom Cruise’s presence, a handful of death-defying setpieces – shot and performed practically in accordance with the star’s apparent death wish commitment – a larger handful of Bond girl-esque heroines for Cruise’s Ethan Hunt to woo, save, and occasionally mourn, etc. No, the stalwart pillar of each film, from 1996’s Mission Impossible¹ through 2023’s Dead Reckoning, has been a choice, though Hunt has never wavered in his ensuing decision. “Your mission,” a recorded voice from inside a pair of sunglasses, a Jazz record, or the hollowed out pages of Homer’s “The Odyssey” says, “should you choose to accept it…” Perhaps it comes within a few minutes, or within the film’s first hour; either way, Ethan is always presented with an option. The road less traveled, in his case, tends to be the avenue to safety, to life as a ghost, away from Luther (Ving Rhames), Benji (Simon Pegg), and whoever else he’s aligned himself with for the time being. The path he always selects is precisely what has made Mission: Impossible the most consistently exhilarating franchise to grace modern multiplexes, if not since it debuted ‘96, then certainly since 2011’s Ghost Protocol, the Brad Bird-directed fourth film that saw the explosion of the Kremlin, Cruise literally scaling the Burj Khalifa, and somehow the only entry to ever include the words “mission accomplished!” in its physical text.

It’s also what has made its inevitable finale – the conclusion of the Cruise-led era, anyway – that much more anticipated. Couple that excitement with the belated removal of Dead Reckoning’s “Part One” designation, and the picture came into fuller focus: The end was nigh. Despite the (very funny and realistic) jokes that Cruise would continue to make Mission: Impossible films until he died performing one of its insane stunts, getting out while the getting was still good was likely always in the cards for Hollywood’s rebel leader and the de facto savior of the cinematic experience, as to remain Ethan Hunt for the rest of his career likely would have become caricaturistic at some point. Imagining an 80-year-old Cruise² dangling from the side of the Eiffel Tower is a comical (if not entirely unrealistic) vision, but to have it come to fruition would imply that 1) our nation’s geopolitical relations with other countries were in better standing and, 2) he never actually moved on to the stage of his career where he fully realizes his own reclamation project by making more arthouse films in addition to the franchise fare that he’ll never be able to leave behind. 

So it was understandable, and even exciting to a select few, when the title of the eighth Mission: Impossible film was revealed to be The Final Reckoning, seemingly putting the close to Cruise’s Ethan Hunt chapter in writing. To get out while the getting is good, as aforementioned, isn’t necessarily such a bad thing, especially when you look at the fates of other mega-franchises that have frittered away for the better part of a decade in search of their next step(s). With The Final Reckoning, Cruise and his now-longtime collaborator Christopher McQuarrie – who has directed and written every M:I film since 2015’s Rogue Nation – gave themselves the opportunity to gracefully close the door. To send Hunt into retirement, if you will, perhaps on a remote, undiscoverable island, one where he could reunite with his ex-wife, Julia (Michelle Monaghan), or maybe Ilsa Faust (Rebecca Ferguson’s character, who fans have long-suspected didn’t actually die in Dead Reckoning), or even Grace (Haley Atwell), who Hunt held more longing, horny gazes with than any other woman in just one film. Benji and Luther would be okay; after all, Ethan disappeared from their orbits before, and while he always returned with a new mission in his pocket, their partnership couldn’t last forever.

The Final Reckoning thus not only serves as, literally, the final reckoning for Ethan Hunt and his Impossible Mission Force, but the final reckoning for this iteration of the Mission: Impossible franchise as a whole. So it’s only fair – if a touch over-indulgent – that the very beginning of The Final Reckoning is chock-full of voiceovers and furiously-montaged clips featuring characters from the franchise’s  past, including those of Solomon Lane (Sean Harris), August “John Lark” Walker (Henry Cavill), Alan Hunley (Alec Baldwin) and others, all recounting moments from Ethan’s previous adventures in a way that will seem vague to the less initiated, yet ultimately are just specific enough for obsessives to clock the fact that ensuing near-three hours are, indeed, about to be detail the biggest test of Ethan Hunt’s life. His final mission: Somehow taking down The Entity,a  malicious A.I. with world destruction on its sentient mind that was introduced in Dead Reckoning. “Everything you’ve done,” President Erika Sloane (Angela Bassett) tells him in the franchise’s most personal briefing to date, “has given the world another sunrise.” Cue Ethan’s huggy reunion with Benji and Luther, both of whom he has evidently not seen in at least a few weeks since the final moments of the most recent installment, and the description of this film’s very broad stakes: Should Ethan and his team fail to stop The Entity, the world as they know it will end.

That the lead-up to how Hunt and co. will approach this mission of devastating proportions is how The Final Reckoning’s first hefty chunk is spent is nothing if not regrettable, as it tasks various characters with the unfortunate responsibility of delivering grating exposition dumps that feel designed to serve an audience that is glued to a second screen. (Here’s hoping you time your Paramount+ free trial just right.) It’s unexpected, sure, but not in the way that this franchise has made its name. Since McQuarrie took over directing duties – ending a string of one-off Cruise-approved hires ³– each Mission: Impossible film has been singular and whip-smart on its own merits while still remaining referential to its predecessors. The Final Reckoning is the first time McQ’s M:I has felt hamstrung by the unbearable weight of being a film within a franchise. Perhaps that’s due to the burden grand finales tend to be tasked with carrying, or because its own road forward had to be repaved once it shed its direct attachment to Dead Reckoning. Either way, the movie spends so much of its first act (and then some) operating in Part Two mode, thus spoon feeding its audience narrative context that it should already know, that you almost forget you’re watching a movie about a crew that has mastered the art of deception. 

This is not to say that it doesn’t look, sound, nor feel like a Mission: Impossible during this time. Ethan Hunt’s big running moment occurs during this span, as do a number of important conversations in large, government-designated meeting rooms, a few unspoilable moments that go directly for the emotional jugular, and a hilarious combat scene in which Grace watches in horror as Ethan brutally dispatches a few enemies. (We know what Ethan can do; not everyone has seen it up close.) It also features a pivotal encounter with The Entity itself, thanks to a perfectly-planned game of cat and mouse that the A.I.’s chief operator, Gabriel (Esai Morales), devised in order for Ethan to come face-to-face with his past, present, and future. But it also includes six or seven separate line readings from Gabriel in which he says the same thing over and over again – “Your choices have led to this, and you can’t win,” or something to that nature – three or four inexplicable mentions of Inuit fisherman, and the big, inane reveal that [redacted] is [redacted’s] [redacted]. 

There’s something glorious about how overstuffed The Final Reckoning’s first half is with its own lore, just as there is something fascinating about watching its brass force themselves to tie up ends that weren’t even loose to begin with, yet it doesn’t occur in the way we’ve come to expect from the same folks who have made some of the best spy thrillers ever made, not to mention one of the very best films of the 2010s. Maybe that has more to do with outsized expectations, but hey, our lives are the sum of our choices. The choice made here has the film flirting with being an honest-to-God mess to the point of desperation, almost like Cruise, McQuarrie, and the like are desperate to save something that didn’t need saving. (Sound familiar, Ethan?)

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to survive a first hour and change that is so high on its own expositional supply that not even The Entity would bother analyzing the script in its efforts to achieve global destruction. Should you do so, you’ll be met with rewards befitting a journey so taxing that your head spins more than the biplane Hunt hangs from in the film’s oft-teased climax: Thrills aplenty, logic… just enough. Prior to that, we’re introduced to a whole new cast of characters, including Hannah Waddingham’s Admiral Neely, Katy O’Brian’s⁴ Kodiak, and Tramell Tillman’s⁵ Captain Bledsoe, all of whom have their own unique rapports with the strange agent who has stumbled onto their aircraft carriers and/or submarines in search of the Sevastopol, the Russian military sub that houses The Entity’s command center, as teased in Dead Reckoning’s opening scene. 

The stunt-and-fight-ridden sequences that unfold from here are worth the price of admission alone – and who are we kidding, that’s why you came, isn’t it? – and some of the best practical work that the franchise has pulled off yet, on par with (if not exceeding) the insanity of Fallout’s Halo jump, rooftop-set chase scene, and helicopter duel, as well as the aforementioned Burj Khalifa climb and Dead Reckoning’s motorcycle jump. Cruise’s ever-sincere performances in each M:I film have never been up for questioning, let alone worth much critique given how similar many have suspected the man himself is to the character he plays, but there’s something method about how he embodies Hunt’s fear as he ventures thousands of leagues under the Bering Sea and, later, thousands of feet into the skies above South Africa. 

What Benji, Grace, and Paris (Pom Klementieff, practically begging to be the series’ next steward) get up to while Ethan trots the open seas and clouds doing his half of the work to stop The Entity’s powers from launching a global arsenal of nuclear missiles is difficult to discuss while spoiling, but that’s half the fun. Mission: Impossible tends to separate its leader from his trusted confidants for tens of minutes at a time, only for them to reunite in a last-ditch effort to accomplish the job once and for all. And in some ways, The Final Reckoning is no different. How we get there is intercut with a lot of panicked isos of United States military officials stuck in rooms with too many red buttons to push – that we’ve yet to mention Holt McCallany or Nick Offerman’s names should tell you all you need to know about their collective presences here – and it’s hard to know whether or not Fallout, Dead Reckoning, and Top Gun: Maverick editor Eddie Hamilton’s clunky chopping during these stretches has to do more with an overflow of footage to deal with or a surplus of story that Cruise and McQuarrie seem overwhelmed by. But it’s all rounded out nicely, if only because the Mission-making duo never fail to stick their landings. Even with all of the easter eggs ⁶they’ve saddled themselves with in an attempt to bring *gestures wildly at everything* to a proper close, they even manage to make great use of Bill Donlow (Rolf Saxon), the food poisoning-addled Langley pencil pusher from Brian De Palma’s original M:I offering. (I said the film was messy, I never said it wasn’t surprising.)

For some, getting to this point could be the most impossible mission these films have tasked their viewers with yet, and certainly since the John Woo-ified Mission: Impossible 2, widely considered the worst movie in the franchise if only because it favored maximalist action over any true substance on a character-driven level. It arguably took until Ghost Protocol for the series to find a true footing as a series – 2006’s Mission: Impossible III featured Philip Seymour Hoffman as the dastardly villain Owen Davian, so we can’t be too critical – primarily because that’s when a consistent team began to take shape for Hunt, with Benji and Luther both accepting greater responsibility and power as far as their leader’s safety went. While it spins its wheels in the lead-up to an action-packed finale that Woo and Abrams would be proud of, The Final Reckoning upholds the spirit of each later entry by infusing more heart into its proceedings than any of the previous films combined. We may be one utterance about the importance of “family” away from this feeling more like a Fast & Furious effort than an impossible mission, but the folks calling the shots from this franchise’s command center at least have a sense of how real human beings communicate, fight, and what hijinks ensue as they hurtle towards their fitting ends. 
Which is precisely what makes The Final Reckoning’s landing a smooth one despite the turbulent ride it took us to get there. Most early reactions to the film have leaned mixed rather than positive, a response that diehard fans have balked at out of hope for cinema’s most reliable franchise to end on its highest note. That’s not the case, but there’s some level of charm to watching Cruise and McQuarrie actively try to connect so many moments from past films to this new one, even if that means telling a wholly new story gets lost in the shuffle. What can also be true is that the final half of The Final Reckoning is among the most thrilling 90 minutes of the series, a mad dash to save the world – and each other – one last time. The most fitting thing of all, like the oft-mocked cruciform key that accesses The Entity, is that one half is rendered entirely ineffective without the presence of the other. Whether that’s for better or for worse is ultimately your mission, should you… ah, you know the rest.

Grade: B-

1. Ethan Hunt receives the primary mission briefing in every film but the first. Jim Phelps (Jon Voight) is the recipient of the initial message – on an airplane cassette tape, disguised as “the cinema of the Ukraine” – while Hunt’s arrives at the end. 
   ↩︎
2. Cruise previously indicated that he would like to be making Mission: Impossible films until he is in his 80s, similar to how Harrison Ford continued appearing in Indiana Jones movies until he was well past octogenarian age. ↩︎
3.  Cruise had a hand in hiring John Woo for M:I 2 (citing a desire for the director to “make it his own”), J.J. Abrams for M:I III (he loved Abrams’ television series Alias), and Brad Bird for Ghost Protocol (because of the heart he brought to his animated works The Iron Giant, The Incredibles, and Ratatouille). ↩︎
4. Woefully underused, despite receiving one cheer-worthy moment. ↩︎
5.  Fans of Apple TV’s Severance are in for a treat once Tillman’s now-trademark inflection rears its glorious, low-timbred head. ↩︎
6. Yes, The Rabbit’s Foot plays a pivotal role. The knife from Mission: Impossible, well… ↩︎

Director: Marianne Elliott
Writer: Rebecca Lenkiewicz
Stars: Jason Isaacs, Gillian Anderson, James Lance

Synopsis: A couple lose their home and later discover the husband has been diagnosed with a terminal illness as they embark on a year long coastal trek.

Sentiment takes precedence over what should be viewed as a devastating failure in Britain’s legal and care systems in Marianne Elliott’s ‘true story’ inspired, The Salt Path. Based on Raynor Winn’s (played by Gillian Anderson) bestselling memoir-travelogue about her walk with her husband, Moth (Jason Isaacs), along the 630-mile South West Coast Path from Minehead, Somerset to (eventually) Land’s End. Screenwriter Rebecca Lenkiewicz and cinematographer, the immensely talented Hélène Louvart, take the audience and the couple through King Arthur’s Land (Cornwall), as well as Devon and other ruggedly beautiful or lushly beautiful coasts and forests. The journey, although perilous, is so immersive and healing in Elliott’s frame that it becomes all too easy to forget what necessitated it in the first place.

Arthur, ‘The Once and Future King,’ would be disappointed with what has befallen the Winns. A protracted legal case where the judge refused to admit evidence that the Winns were not responsible for the debts incurred by a former friend’s business has left them penniless and soon to be evicted from their home which has been seized. Moth Winn’s ‘arthritis’ turns out to be an incurable degenerative neurological condition, corticobasal degeneration, or CBD, which isn’t enough for the local council to put the couple on the emergency list for housing. If this story were told by Ken Loach there would be a lot more justified seething instead of soothing. It’s clear that neither Moth nor Ray wants to lean on friends or family for support (which is admirable, and one might say ludicrously, selfless). They are in their 50s, the parents of two adult children, Tom (Tucker St. Ivany) and Rowan (Rebecca Ineson), they lose everything they’ve built by hand which includes their farm, and one of them is, in medical terms, dying. 

With the bailiffs banging down their door, Ray comes up with the idea that they take a walk following the path set out in a book they own. It will give them time to “work things out” if they camp along the path. Their only belongings are two backpacks, a cheap tent, a copy of Seamus Heaney’s translation of Beowulf (which comes into play in a rousing moment) and a lot of pot noodles. Expecting to receive a tax credit of forty pounds a week, they decide that they can find a way to survive in the elements, relying on each other for support and hopefully the kindness of strangers along the way.

If The Salt Path were entirely fiction it would be nigh on unbelievable that the two don’t, at some stage, succumb to exposure or starvation. They are ill-prepared to deal with the wild weather and the steep and punishing path. There are remarkably few scenes where either Ray or Moth actually loses their temper at their situation or properly grieves it. The one foot in front of the other maxim keeps them going as does their abiding adoration for each other and their inherent “goodness.”

The one section where Moth’s health really is at risk doesn’t come from his condition, but rather from his decision to go cold turkey off pregabalin – something that is highly dangerous and reckless. Moth is extremely lucky that his health is somehow boosted by the exercise and plain eating instead of going through deterioration. It’s most certainly luck that isn’t medically advisable and the warning “do not try this” should probably flash up somewhere.

Luck does seem to be on the side of the Winns who at times of extreme crisis do find people who are willing to share with the couple, just as the couple are willing to share with an endangered young woman, Sealy (Gwen Currant) who Ray quietly convinces to come along with them.

The Salt Path is one of those films (and books) where the indomitable human spirit overcomes the worst of circumstances, where nature puts life into perspective and heals the heart, hurt, and bodies of those who need to feel as if there is something beyond the snatching away of security and livelihood they saw as their future. It’s difficult to argue with the majesty of coastal South West England and the subtle and lovely performances given by Anderson and especially Isaacs. Yet, with every deer, rabbit, underwater paradise, and soaring gull they see accompanied by Chris Roe’s whimsical score, the sense that these two people are the exception and certainly not the rule grows stronger. 

The Winns eventually decide that they need and prefer the freedom that walking the path gives them and Ray’s deep love for Moth means that even if there are safer alternatives to look into, she will go with him. The idea of giving up everything and following their example isn’t pushed in the film, but nor is it thoroughly discouraged when the one person who offers them housing in exchange for labor, Polly (Hermione Norris) is painted as a nuisance rather than someone who is trying to help her friends.

The Salt Path is enthralling because where they go is gloriously picturesque as an idealized England, even with the squalls, bad weather, blackthorn bushes, and dangerous mud. Ray and Moth were salted by their travels and enlivened by their unusual swerve that saved them from a fate they should never have been subjected to. The location and the performances make the film more than the writing itself. There will be audiences who find The Salt Path a wonderful tale of resilience and hope, and others who cast a slightly more cynical eye over the undoubtedly stunning proceedings and ponder how a single serious misstep could have led to something much darker.

Grade: C

Director: Laura Piani
Writers: Laura Piani
Stars: Camille Rutherford, Pablo Pauly, Charlie Anson

Synopsis: A desperately single bookseller, lost in a fantasy world, finds herself forced to fulfill her dreams of becoming a writer in order to stop messing up her love life.

When women are written in a realistic manner, giving them personal agency and with their intelligence at the forefront, it’s no wonder those stories stand the test of time. Jane Austen’s work has been a comforting hand to hold, especially as a woman whose path in life refuses to adhere to societal norms. Countless adaptations of Austen’s work have been brought to any and every form of retelling imaginable, from plays to television; you don’t have to look far to see her influence on the world still today. Writer and Director Laura Piani pays an endearing homage to Austen’s work with her newest film Jane Austen Wrecked My Life, a lively rom-com that is equally smart and giddy with love.

In true Austen fashion, Piani opens her film in a bustling bookshop, where audiences are introduced to Agathe Robinson (Camille Rutherford), a lonely bookkeeper looking for love while working on her writing. It’s clear from our first encounter with Agathe that she is the epitome of an Austen main character; she seemingly has no prospects, is unhappy with the direction of her life, and has little to no self-esteem. Working in a bookstore in France, Agathe passes time during her workday dreaming of romance while suggesting only the best Austen books to her customers. Her writing is a point of frustration in her life as much as it is her creative outlet; stories as of late have been going unfinished, leaving Agathe unfulfilled. One drunken night at a solo sushi date, Agathe finds inspiration at the bottom of her sake glass, a story that would launch her into a new adventure.

There’s something special about Agathe’s writing that catches the right attention as she finds herself with an invite to a retreat for writers. There’s a reluctance in Agathe while she mulls over if she should take this opportunity or continue to live in a cramped apartment yearning for purpose. With some convincing by her coworker best friend Felix (Pablo Pauly), she agrees to take the trip, hoping that the location will inspire her. The trip is already set off with hiccups, with Agathe butting heads with her overbearing chauffeur Oliver (Charlie Anson), who quickly becomes a recurring annoyance during her retreat away. Those in Agathe’s life know that her writing is praiseworthy to the highest degree, but, in true writer’s fashion, she doesn’t believe it’s anything extraordinary. While away from the distractions of home, Agathe finds herself in a dreamlike retreat that has more than enough inspiration in both writing and romance to go around.

There’s a wonderful tonal balance in Jane Austen Wrecked My Life, as there’s no lack of humor with Agathe going through some skin crawling embarrassing moments. Romance is alive and well just as much as the humor, with characters exploring their newfound feelings with one another. Piani’s writing within the film is witty and this is where Austen’s influence is at its most. Most of these influences come from Agathe and the situations she finds herself in, either as a critique of societal demands of women, or her walking into the room of her crush naked by accident. While Agathe plays things off for laughs more often than not, there’s a pain that can be felt from each awkward chuckle she lets out. Piani shows Agathe settling into a different form with her time at the retreat as she gains confidence within her writing and herself.

Jane Austen Wrecked My Life gives a cozy familiar feeling while exploring love through the life of Agathe, mainly due to the performance from its lead. Rutherford’s brilliant portrayal of Agathe, even in slapstick moments, is utterly convincing.  She doesn’t shy away from physical humor, showing her dedication to the role. Her character is a plain Jane, making her easy to see yourself in but also admire through the personal journey she goes on. The best moments from Rutherford are when she’s letting her character’s intelligence shine through quick-witted comebacks, paired perfectly with Piani’s superb writing. They show a woman that wears her insecurities on her sleeve but has enough confidence to stick up for herself when it’s needed.

There are plenty of tropes within Jane Austen Wrecked My Life that Piani is playing with, some directly coming from Austen’s work and thoughts. Within the relationship between Agathe and Felix, there’s an inkling of attraction; they both have different ways of finding love, with Felix relying on dating apps that Agathe despises. A genuine connection is felt between them with their shared interests, but there also feels like a vital romantic connection isn’t there, and that they are only attracted to one another because they have no other options. Their relationship reflects Austen’s thoughts on friendship being great sources of happiness, but also disappointment. Piani subverts expectations with the romance, letting Agathe flourish in her work rather than making a choice of partner be the focal point of the film. Marriage is not at the height of Agathe’s life; rather, finding purpose through her writing first before romance.

Cinematographer Pierre Mazoyer brings a warmth to the film through his work that pulls the fantasy of Austen’s work to life through the picturesque French countryside of the writing workshop. Who wouldn’t want to fall in love with their own work, and potentially a dreamy man, with a background of lush greenery and a lavishly decorated manor away from it all? Mazoyer captures the yearning between characters with his framing, making sure that although Agathe might not see Oliver secretly yearning for her, the audience does. There are many scenes that stand out to display Mazoyer’s work, but the best comes from Agathe sitting in a windowed nook desperately trying to finish her work with a yellow glow from the sun enveloping the room. The film’s combination of radiant visuals and inspiring storytelling will have audiences reflecting on their own fantastical dreams.

Overall, Piani takes a spin on Austen’s work that is refreshing with its use of romance, and charming with its humor. Agathe is a character that is easy to root for with her relatable relationship woes and her struggle to hone her talents. Jane Austen Wrecked My Life sweeps us off our feet and encourages us not to settle for anything less than what we deserve, reminding us that love and personal growth go hand in hand.

Grade: A

Director: Victor Danell
Writers: Victor Danell, Jimmy Nivrén Olsson
Stars: Inez Dahl Torhaug, Jesper Barkselius, Sara Shirpey

Synopsis: A rebellious teenager who believes her missing father was abducted by aliens joins forces with a quirky UFO club of endearing misfits. They embark on a high-stakes adventure that defies the law and challenges the very fabric of reality.

There is a disclaimer here for people watching Watch the Skies in the US or other English speaking countries. For the US release, the filmmakers partnered with a company called Flawless, which takes AI tools and does a process they call visual dubbing. The cast is still speaking their lines and, since many of the cast members also speak English, they are also delivering those lines. Yet, instead of the dialogue and the movements of the actor’s mouth not matching like with traditional dubbing, Flawless has developed processes to make the voice and the mouth on screen sync. The technology also works for written language on screen, so any important written ideas are also available in the viewer’s language. 

That being the case, the real question is, can you tell? The answer is if you’re looking for it, yes, but it is rare that a mouth is in an uncanny position. It’s honestly a little worse on the ears. Because of the dubbed dialogue, the sound of voices is always crisp and nearly always audible. There isn’t the layering that occurs with sound captured on a film set, so like with other dubbing, the vocal track doesn’t perfectly match the scene and so it feels otherworldly with these subtleties. For those of us that are cinema purists it’s a bit of a let down as we don’t mind that “one-inch tall barrier of subtitles,” to quote filmmaker Bong Joon-ho. Yet, for those that create exciting films with universal themes in their own language, this is a way to really reach a broader audience who would otherwise eschew a foreign made film. With that being written, though, how is the movie?

Watch the Skies evokes the golden age of the late 20th century adventure story. It features a group that stumbles upon a conspiracy theory, a shady government organization, and unexplained phenomena that makes us question all that we hold as truth. It’s a fantastically well executed story that has inaccessible science explained in layman’s terms mixed with incredible visuals.

Co-writer, co-editor, and director Victor Danell has a panache when it comes to filmmaking. His feature is Speilbergian in the scope of his project and the heart he injects into it. With co-writer Jimmy Nivrén Olsson, Danell has created a story that feels familiar, but never the same as everything it is influenced by. There is an excitement for scientific curiosity and a complicated familial relationship at its core that really sings through the film.

The only disappointing aspect of the script is the interpersonal relationships. It often feels like the characters are doing or saying something to strain their relationships artificially. They don’t talk with each other enough about their feelings and in some ways it rings false. The personal resolution of the final frames feels diluted in a way because it’s hard to believe in such a short amount of time these people would have formed a bond that would supersede the slights suffered within the action of the film.

Watch the Skies can be forgiven for this disappointment because it is so thrilling. There is a sequence as UFO Sweden, the group investigating the unexplained phenomena, really ramps up their operations. They attach a magnet to a raft and slowly row it out to a lake that is the crash site of what they hope is a UFO. Once they have something attached to the magnet, the team tries to reel it in with a winch. There’s shouts as the truck with the winch begins to move and the object gets closer. The butting heads come to the fore as the group notices that the UFO is an IFO (identified flying object) and not what they hoped, but Denise (Inez Dahl Torhaug) will not give up. It’s a taut sequence with a lot of shots edited expertly by Danell and co-editor Fredrik Morhedon and beautifully composed by cinematographer Hannes Krantz who is a director of photography who really knows how to shoot in the dark. 

In spite of complicated feelings about the use of AI, Watch the Skies is worth the price of admission. It has that feeling of when you were a kid at the movies and you saw something that made you want to find out the mysteries of the universe. It has that spark of adventure and the filmmaking acumen to go along with it. It’s a film meant for the big screen and hopefully with its slight augmentation will reach a much wider and enthusiastic audience.

Grade: B

Director: Eli Craig
Writers: Carter Blanchard, Eli Craig
Stars: Katie Douglas, Aaron Abrams, Carson MacCormac

Synopsis: A fading midwestern town in which Frendo the clown, a symbol of bygone success, reemerges as a terrifying scourge.

The slasher subgenre is appealing because it rarely delves too deeply into the supernatural. The slasher is mayhem and carnage that, while sometimes impossible, is most terrifying because behind the mask is a fellow human choosing to kill others for their own reasons. There is someone mortal behind the mask. That is of course until the sequels when all bets are off as the killer can and will come back again and again with increasingly supernatural abilities. In these first films the killer can be hurt and killed, but they seem invincible because of the terror they’re able to invoke. This subgenre endures because of its tropes and formulas. Every new iteration is a new way to show off horrifying new ways to kill people, but also to show how even if we have different technologies or knowledge, we’re still vulnerable to a person in a mask with a grudge. The slasher is evergreen because it can change while staying the same. Clown in a Cornfield is a lot like its slasher predecessors. It’s got nothing very new about it.

Familiarity is fine. Formula is fine. These axioms are true especially for a slasher because the slasher doesn’t need to be elevated in any way. Clown in a Cornfeld sticks to that well worn territory. Though, just as you start to become Randy Meeks (Jamie Kennedy) from Scream, shouting at the screen, pointing out the “rules” of the slasher, a twist comes in and changes the film into something else. The issue with Clown in a Cornfield is that its filmmakers wait far too long into the action to pull this twist and to put their specific spin on the slasher formula.

Much of the finger pointing at possible suspects is absent. Much of the terror of thinking the killer clown, Frendo, is one of the core group of teens is too subtle. Everything but the gore and the motive for the killings is subtle. Too much of the film is focused in the wrong direction and for the wrong reasons that the unique aspects of Clown in a Cornfield quickly become too predictable once they’re known.

Even with this predictability it’s difficult to write about particular scenes or plot points that are good because with slashers any details of the journey can ruin the catharsis of the ending. Though, it is easy to praise pieces of the whole in a way that doesn’t give too much of the plot. There are a lot of good points about director Eli Craig’s style for instance. He’s an old hand at horror-comedy and while not everything that is intended to be a joke in Clown in a Cornfield lands, Craig at least has the pacing down. There isn’t a wasted moment or a reveal that’s not timed perfectly. Even his jumpscares, though very predictable, are not drawn out or attempts to trick the viewers. He gives us what we want.

Katie Douglas, who plays our heroine, Quinn, is also quite intriguing. She plays Quinn with a brassy sense of street smarts that comes from growing up in a city and being forced out to the country. Douglas gets us to believe in his character’s vulnerability and sadness. Unlike many slasher heroine’s of the past, Quinn isn’t hung up in the innocent camp. She’s a modern teen with a mix of experience and naivete that breaks the rules of the horror film, while also honoring them in a way. Douglas plays this mix well while also having excellent timing and an expressive face.

Clown in a Cornfield is a pretty O.K. film. A clown is used to scare instead of delight, teens are killed in gruesome ways, and we all walk away from the film a little more unsettled than we were before it started. While the story and film attempts new twists on the old formula, it doesn’t commit hard enough to the old formula to make the new twists all that fresh or exciting. If you’re a fan of the subgenre, you may want to check it out, but if you’re looking for a unique take on the subgenre, this isn’t it.

Grade: C

Director: Andrew DeYoung
Writer: Andrew DeYoung
Stars: Tim Robinson, Paul Rudd, Kate Mara

Synopsis: A suburban dad falls hard for his charismatic new neighbor.

I don’t think it would be unfair to say that the expectation of Friendship is that this would be a feature length I Think You Should Leave sketch. Tim Robinson has a unique style of humor that is strictly his own and while it may not work for everyone, it definitely works for me. Starting off, the theater was laughing at every little thing Robinson was doing on screen. However, as the film went on, a collective anxiety and unnerved feeling washed across the theater. Friendship definitely lives up to the expectation that I described before, but what I didn’t expect was something so nightmarish and, to put it bluntly, depressing. Don’t get me wrong, it’s hilarious, but by the time the credits roll I was wiped out.

Craig Waterman (Robinson) is a simple man that does very little outside of his day-to-day work. He is a married man with a son in high school, he gets a new neighbor that he quickly befriends, and frequently talks about “the new Marvel.” What sets him apart from the other characters in Friendship is he speaks almost exclusively in awkward jokes – common fare for his characters in I Think You Should Leave. But as the film progresses and he opens himself up more, it’s clear he is afflicted with arrested social development as he makes off putting comments and does bizarre things like shoving a bar of soap in his mouth as a joke (which does not land). 

What makes I Think You Should Leave likely to be rewatchable is that everyone in each bit is in on the joke to some degree. In I Think You Should Leave you’re being transported to some bizarre other world where the inhabitants are mild mannered individuals and one or two characters that perpetuate and drive a bit. In Friendship, if you remove Tim Robinson, it is a deathly serious movie. No one is feeding into a bit outside of him. The coverage of topics in Friendship include cancer, marital collapse, and a situation involving a missing person. I know the goal, even in the I Think You Should Leave bits, is to make the viewer cringe, but at times Friendship becomes a little suffocating.

Furthermore, Tim Robinson’s character he does – which he does for all of his comedy – works in small doses. On Saturday Night Live and I Think You Should Leave you’re given about 5 minutes, max, of this type of character. However, this type of character in a feature film is a little too much by the end. Each bad decision or off putting comment Craig would make compounds in the viewer. While I’m not entirely averse to the ‘cringe’ comedy, by the time the 100 minute runtime is up I was thoroughly exhausted.

With these things in mind, I weirdly found Friendship to be affecting. While I don’t directly identify with the Craig Waterman character or the things that he does, that feeling of longing was extremely palpable. Connecting with people is incredibly difficult, I wanted to see Craig win even if I wouldn’t want to be friends with him personally. And anytime he didn’t win (which is frequent in Friendship), I couldn’t help but feel a little sad. Life is weird how we’re just thrown into things and there’s a certain socially acceptable, binary way of living while we’re all extremely different from one another and offer completely different things to each other.

To that extent, even if there were elements of Friendship I found exhausting, the other elements elevated it to the same, yet opposite, levels. There was a cohesion to this film that is rare to find in films from sketch comedy regulars. For example, while I love films like Stepbrothers, Wayne’s World, or Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping, the bits in those movies act as a way to get laughs rather than something that coexists with the world in their respective films. In Friendship you find a collection of bits that feels like it belongs to the world being built. The one bit I’ll mention, as to not spoil anything, is the “Marvel” bit that they’ve already pushed in their marketing. Once the “Marvel” is introduced it is integrated effectively and not seen as just a one-off. There’s a particular moment involving a client meeting where the bit isn’t directly referenced but is alluded to and the pay off is incredible.

Rarely does a film come around where I feel so starkly conflicted about it. And even with that, I really want to see it again. If you’re not a fan of the Tim Robinson style of comedy, this is probably the last thing you should consider if you’re looking to change that. But if you’re already a fan, this is a four course meal and then some. This film is nuclear levels of hilarious and simultaneously the worst trip imaginable. Friendship absolutely rules and should be seen in the largest and most uncomfortably crowded room imaginable. Excited to tell my therapist about this film!

Grade: C+

Director: Karan Kandhari
Writer: Karan Kandhari
Stars: Radhika Apte, Ashok Pathak, Chhaya Kadam

Synopsis: A genre-bending comedy about a frustrated and misanthropic newlywed who discovers certain feral impulses that land her in unlikely situations.

When a film begins without dialogue, it can let its aesthetics sink in. You get a feel for the characters, the setting, and the way the filmmakers will tell their story. Sister Midnight begins this way and introduces writer/director Karan Kandhari’s strange vision of domestic frustration that morphs into a sort of Vampire’s Kiss in the style of Wes Anderson.

That Andersonian-like feel is all over Sister Midnight; from the quirky absurdity to the way the camera moves. In their own style, Kandhari and cinematographer Sverre Sørdal, make a film that lets the camera itself be a driver of jokes. There is a shot that begins with Uma (Radhika Apte) sitting on a seawall contemplating the disease she hasn’t yet figured out. She just wants a moment to be with her thoughts, but to her right there is a crying woman, the camera slowly pans to the woman, then back to Uma, who also hears a crying man on her left, to whom the camera pans, and then back to where Uma was only to find her running from the seawall and back into the city behind it disgusted that she can’t find peace. In another perfect scene, Uma takes Reshma’s (Smita Tambe) dog for a walk. She stops in place and shouts to a boy off screen if he wants a dog, the camera pans to the now very excited boy and his guardian. There’s a cut with Uma back to where Reshma, her husband, and Gopal (Ashok Pathak) sit. Uma remains standing and tells the other couple that she and Gopal have to go and, by the way, the dog ran away.

These touches come from Kandhari as a director, but also his whip smart script. This tale of a misanthropic, frustrated newlywed is brimming with dry humor and the bizarre. The wordless bits are fantastic, but it’s Uma’s sharp tongue that will have you bursting out laughing. She has a comeback or a barb for every perceived wrong and the fact that it comes from this unassuming woman makes the verbal jabs even sweeter. There are also some terrific scenes between Uma and Sheetal (Chhaya Kadam), Uma’s neighbor. The two of them create the imaginary dialogue of a sordid affair while they go through the drudgery of their day. These scenes show a different side of Uma and that she hasn’t entirely sworn off all human interaction.

That balance is pulled off so well because of Radhika Apte’s stellar performance. She has a ferociousness that makes the scenes of Uma’s anger and frustrations entirely justified. Apte has incredible timing and a great aptitude for physical humor. As Uma, Apte makes us hope we can find a way into her heart as some of the other characters in the film do because the warmth Apte portrays when Uma likes someone creates a yearning from us to hope to be one of those people and feel that warmth.

If Sister Midnight has faults it is in the drag of its final act. It doesn’t help that otherwise superior editor Napoleon Stratogiannakis and Kandhari keep stalling the action with many fades to black. They use the technique throughout the film to denote the passage of time, but after the turn in the story it just feels like many minutes are needlessly added to the film when we want more story. When Uma is stagnant, so is the script. While it feels like the filmmakers were trying to create a circle back to the isolation of the beginning of the film, the momentum is lost.

Though, how can you really dislike any film when that film includes a roaming band of vampiric goats? Sister Midnight is one of those rare horror comedies that never lets the horror elements overpower the humor. If anything, the horror just heightens the earned bit of tragedy at the turn. Sister Midnight will have you laughing in ways you won’t expect and loving the visual feast of an artist who knows how to create a story with a camera.

Grade: A