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

Director: Joe List
Stars: Tom Dustin, Joe List

Synopsis: Follows comedian Tom Dustin in Key West, featuring stand-up performances and his friendship with Joe List, while exploring depression and alcohol through comedy and storytelling.

It’s always interesting when someone makes a documentary about their friends. The perspective is unique, fresh, but also biased. There’s that sense of understanding and empathy that is unmistakably bittersweet. This was the first thought that came to my mind while watching the famous comedian Joe List’s documentary debut, Tom Dustin: Portrait of a Comedian, about his best friend and fellow comedian, Tom Dustin. 

List perfectly changes the chronological order between decades, showing us Dustin at his youngest, most energized self, followed immediately by a recent clip where time and missed opportunities have humbled him. List loves his friend. That’s one thing the viewer can tell just by following how he frames Dustin, even at his lowest, through a nurturing, kind lens. One can’t help but fall for Dustin, even as it seems like he’s not the wild hotshot he was in the past (and how his knack for comedy, even at his youngest and most creative, never led him to a success similar to List’s). 

There’s not a hint of pity or deprecation in the way he portrays his friend’s mishaps and regrets. It’s all done through an understanding of a man who shares his best friend’s passion, but doesn’t let it consume him. List provides us with a glimpse into the behind-the-scenes of Comedy Central. In one scene, a regular bystander talks to Dustin and calls comedians “Some of the bravest people on the planet.” But List unveils the façade of the fantasy of living life as a stand-up comedian. A life without rules, where drugs and alcohol course through the veins of those brave men, turning them into after-night special heroes, stripping bare what lies behind the glamour of this hedonistic, rebellious existence that goes beyond what society requires. List portrays himself and Dustin as two dudes on the fringe of society with the hopes of making it big, he doesn’t glamorize or sugarcoat the life of comedians, so that dream of living off jokes doesn’t seem as fantasy-like as most people envision it to be.

This documentary wouldn’t have worked if it was only a portrait of Dustin, despite how enriching and endearing his journey as a stand-up comedian is. The back and forth between List and Dustin brings a lot to the table, but their story in its extreme personal status has an underlying universality that feels familiar with a lot of people. List and Dustin can be any of us, friends at different stages of life, with varying degrees of success and self-actualization, and yet, the bond between them is what keeps them together stronger than ever.

I couldn’t help but wonder while watching this documentary: what makes or breaks a talent? It poses the important question of showing, through a carefully crafted storyline, the change of tone and character of an artist who does not rise and fall from grace, but remains stable in a middle ground where no major change truly occurs, yet no significant tragedy befalls him. It’s refreshing to see Dustin engaging in his shenanigans, supported by his friend, while also realizing that a stress-free approach to a bumpy artistic journey is the best way to be. 

Tom Dustin: Portrait of a Comedian is a great picture to watch if someone wants a peek inside the lives of two men burdened and broken by life but still kicking and cracking a joke or two about the pain. It may seem like a vanity project of two cool guys who were once even cooler kids, but it’s more of a love letter not just from a friend to his less lucky pal, but to the comedy scene at Comedy Key West.

Grade: B

Director: Timothy Scott Bogart
Writer: Timothy Scott Bogart
Stars: Clara Rugaard, Jamie Ward, Jason Isaacs

Synopsis: Based on the real story that inspired Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, follows the greatest love story of all time, set as an original pop musical.

When a writer and/or director sets out to make a film based on a well-known story, there is an inherent risk involved. When everyone knows the story, what exactly do you have to offer? What is the hook, the new angle? There are many stories that have been told over (and over) again. But perhaps none of them have been told as often as “Romeo and Juliet.” It is so famous, I don’t even need to tell you who wrote it. And certainly, it has been done well on film. Whether you prefer George Cukor (1936), Franco Zeffirelli (1968), or Baz Luhrmann (1996), there are numerous options to choose from and many of high quality. The great thing about a classic play is that you can take it from many different angles.

Juliet & Romeo certainly has a new look for the classic story. Writer/director Timothy Scott Bogart set out to tell the “true story” that inspired the play. Essentially, this means adding in a nonsensical plot point featuring a Pope. To add to this, he also makes it a pop musical. You might think these two ideas would work in opposition with one another and, sadly, you would be absolutely correct. It is a strange thing to want to tell a story of hidden truth and then couch it in the highly produced musical stylings of pop. And frankly, all of that could be forgiven with either great performances or great music. 

To be clear, with any musical, great music is imperative. And this is not something to bide your time with, you cannot simply ramp up to the “good songs.” If you don’t grab your audience immediately, it is over. And folks, it is so over. There is some solid pop music hidden within, but it simply takes too long to get there. Most of the music is uninspired. Put simply, if you are not a fan of pop music, this is probably what you think pop sounds like. The attached choreography is similarly conventional. And this is what most of the film feels like, never completely awful, but certainly not something you might remember, fondly or otherwise.

Especially compared to recent versions of this story, the visuals also simply don’t measure up. Either a more muted palette or an maximalist explosion of color can work (as proved previously). Unfortunately, Juliet & Romeo falls somewhere in the black hole of the in between. The costumes are certainly colorful, but to the level of garishness. The film is also lit quite strangely, making it difficult (if not impossible) to view anything in the background which would give needed context to world being inhabited. 

In many adaptations and, indeed, even in the source material, the titular characters are not the best of the bunch. There are a myriad of moments from supporting characters (the Queen Mab speech from Mercutio, Nurse being playful with Juliet, Tybalt fighting the Montagues) that are arguably more impactful than the lovestruck pair. Sadly, many of these are not present or even presented in a way that equals the palpable energy of just about every other version. This is a real shame because there is a solid cast gathered. Of note, Rupert Everett (Lord Capulet), Jason Isaacs (Lord Montague), and Derek Jacobi (The Friar) all might excite a prospective viewer, but they are given little to do. And Everett, especially, is given little to play off of, as his consistent scene partner, Rebel Wilson, is wildly miscast as Lady Capulet. Just because one can manage a passing English accent does not mean there is any substance to the performance. Romeo (Jamie Ward), an accomplished musical theater actor seems hamstrung by the material but Juliet (Clara Rugaard) should be commended on somehow creating a watchable performance that deserves a better movie.

Honestly, the lone, true bright spot comes from a part that is usually relegated to a necessary evil, The Apothecary (Dan Fogler). He has a musical number (featuring interjections by Derek Jacobi) that is the sole ear worm on a soundtrack stacked full of lyrical attempts. His jolly presence and genuine excitement feels almost out of place compared to the near sleepwalking attempts at other memorable songs. 

So yes, there is yet another adaptation of the western world’s most famous love story. Unfortunately, this one removes many of the most iconic moments and adds in a soundscape that mostly fades into the background. But hey, we will always have our chosen Romeo and Juliet, whether that be full of sound and fury or a true Elizabethan version. This bubblegum pop, “true story” will simply make you want to skip the track.

Juliet & Romeo will be in UK Cinemas for One Night Only on 11th June

Grade: D

Director: James Madigan
Writers: Brooks McLaren, D.J. Cotrona
Stars: Josh Hartnett, Charithra Chandran, Katee Sackhoff

Synopsis: A mercenary takes on the job of tracking down a target on a plane but must protect her when they’re surrounded by people trying to kill both of them.

One location action films always seem like a good idea at the time. Yes, they sometimes work. The Raid: Redemption and Dredd are perfect examples. But these are the exception, and not the rule. Most times, it seems to have been planned more for financial reasons, as opposed to artistic ones. The bad side of this is really that it is limiting. Some creators work well within these structures, but most find themselves hamstrung and throwing everything against the wall to see what will stick. First time feature film director, James Madigan, truly struggles with this, despite some minor bloody fun experienced on the trip.

Fight or Flight follows ex-Secret Service agent, Lucas Reyes (Josh Hartnett), who is tasked with tracking down a wanted person on a particular flight. If he is able to bring them back alive, he will get his life back. There is, of course, a catch. Everyone else on the flight has been tasked with killing this asset. Plus, the asset might actually be doing good for the world. He is given this “opportunity” by Katherine Brunt (Katee Sackhoff), an agent with whom he has history. So, after a screaming fit at Brunt, our intrepid hero (doused with a great deal of alcohol pre-flight) must not only find this mystery person, but also deal with contract killers in every row. You can almost hear the elevator pitch. “It’s like John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum mixed with Bullet Train. Everyone is after him, and they are all trapped in a metal tube hurtling through the air!” And honestly, that sounds a lot better than the results we are given. 

However, the film does have one thing going for it, and that is its lead performances. Hartnett uses every bit of his considerable charm to drag the film to watchability. Even if this does feel like a movie he would do before his mini-renaissance, he is still a walking example of what charisma can do for a film. When he meets Isha (Charithra Chandran), a flight attendant, Fight or Flight certainly is the better for it. Their connection, and back-and-forth rapport is the saving grace of the movie, and the otherwise weak screenplay from Brooks McLaren and D.J. Cotrona.

And thank goodness for that, because they are the only actual characters that exist in the world of Fight or Flight. The other attendants are pretty obvious stereotypes, but the real issue is the myriad of other killers. For a movie that is mildly concerned with the morality of its lead character, it does absolutely zero work to engage with those choices or the other characters. It almost feels like a cheap video game knockoff, in which Lucas must defeat them solely for plot reasons. It even falls short of the aforementioned Bullet Train (a thoroughly mediocre film, in its own right) because at least that film paid credence to its other characters, for better or worse. To say that this should have been “Bullet Plane” is shockingly an insult to the previous film. 

That all being said, most of the action is actually quite fun. Sure, it makes no sense that no one would come knocking on the first class bathroom as Lucas is drugged, beaten, and eventually makes a comeback to brutally murder a singing contract killer (don’t ask), but the scene is visceral and well-filmed. There are numerous memorable moments of bloodshed, but most of it is played with a shrug as there is no time to rest before the next villain must be vanquished. To continue the video game analogy, Fight or Flight is a movie in need of a boss who never appears at the end of the level.

If you love Josh Hartnett, blood, and silly action, you will absolutely have a good enough time onboard Fight or Flight. But if your expectations are lifted to the level of even Bullet Train, you may end up disappointed. Honestly, avoiding spoilers, the film seems to be following the wrong lead character. There are interesting moments hidden in this simple script that could make for a better story than what we receive. We deserve more, and so do Hartnett and Chandran.

Grade: C-

Director: Jake Schreier
Writers: Eric Pearson, Joanna Calo, Kurt Busiek
Stars: Florence Pugh, Sebastian Stan, Julia Louis-Dreyfun

Synopsis: After finding themselves ensnared in a death trap, an unconventional team of antiheroes must embark on a dangerous mission that will force them to confront the darkest corners of their pasts.

Here’s the deal regarding Marvel closing out its latest phase: they’ve finally remembered the fun of their earlier entries. Along with the devilishly entertaining Deadpool & Wolverine, Thunderbolts* is the most downright entertaining MCU experience since the first Guardians of the Galaxy. A dirty (almost) half dozen that revitalizes the “bad guys doing good” trope, it doesn’t take itself too seriously, but still packs a big, beating heart that’s surprisingly poignant.

Thunderbolts*, like Guardians of the Galaxy over ten years prior, revitalizes the Marvel Cinematic Universe—but with a more grounded, darker, grittier approach that explores these beloved characters’ moral gray areas with unapologetically exhilarating results, real stakes, and something to say on the matter. 

The story mainly centers around Yelena Belova (Florence Pugh), who is grappling with an existential crisis of her own. The former assassin is still doing cleanup work—painting houses, if you will—for CIA director Valentina Allegra de Fontaine (Emmy winner Julia Louis-Dreyfus), who is on trial for her life, facing impeachment for her callous attempts to create super soldiers with little regard for human life. The only thing keeping Yelena going is the job, as she ruminates on thoughts of her family, including her deceased sister (Scarlett Johansson) and nonexistent relationship with her father, Alexei Shostakov (Stranger Things’s David Harbour), aka The Red Guardian, a former supersoldier himself. 

Yelena needs a change, wanting to shed the “anti” in antihero by doing genuine superhero good. However, like a cop going out on one last call before retirement, Fontaine asks Belova to do one more job for her, promising it will set her free. The director tasks her with locating and erasing any evidence of her past deeds that could be used against her at the impeachment trial. What Yelena underestimates is just how cunning Valentina is: she sends Yelena into a trap, luring all her assassins to a hidden compound—a birds’ nest—where they’re ordered to kill each other, because they are the evidence.

Yelena runs into a few familiar faces (and a couple of others I couldn’t pick out of a lineup). These include John Walker (Wyatt Russell), the disgraced stand-in for Captain America, who we last saw in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier killing Nico. You also have Ghost (Hannah John-Kamen), Taskmaster (Olga Kurylenko), and the Winter Soldier himself, Bucky (Sebastian Stan), who shows up looking for evidence to take down Fontaine and bring her reign of terror to an end. However, they soon realize it’s a trap, with the director sending a team after them, only for a mysterious figure named Bob (Lewis Pullman, not reprising his Top Gun: Maverick role) to help the team escape.

At the core of Thunderbolts* is a deeply felt story of redemption. Sure, the film delves into your classic comic book movie clichés in the third act, but it is, after all, entertainment. The premise tackles the seriousness of mental health, resilience, and reinvention with thoughtful care. Director Jake Schreier (Paper Towns), working with a script from Eric Pearson (Thor: Ragnarok) and Joanna Calo (The Bear, Beef), doesn’t reinvent the wheel here, but he gives Marvel a darker take than any recent MCU film—a version that may make Christopher Nolan proud of its aesthetic. It finally lets go of colorful cosmic antics in favor of some rebellious and ominous irreverence that Kevin Feige has obsessed with for decades.

While many have commented that the humor is hit or miss, for this critic, most hits—especially with Harbour, who has a direct line to my funny bone. Like he did in Black Widow, Harbour fills this action-packed entry with comic relief. And we can’t stress enough how good Pugh is here: she takes what could have been a one-note, fairly paper-thin character and rounds out the performance with tremendous heart that’s genuinely moving. Meanwhile, Dreyfus revels in the role, perfectly embodying why a bureaucrat with unlimited power is the most dangerous villain. She’s so evil, it’s practically… polarizingly great.

It’s not hard to love Thunderbolts* since it had some bad press coming into the season, and not to mention, the terrible result of Captain America: Brave New World. However, the best superhero movies push boundaries, have murky moral complexities, and feature teamwork, which this new entry does nicely. The final result feels fresh because it is seen through a mental health lens that gives the films some added cinematic weight, and a touch of CGI that doesn’t feel overwrought to the point of cinematic subterfuge. It’s an excellent standalone entry that opens intriguing possibilities for a new phase. 

You can watch Marvel’s Thunderbolts* only in theaters May 2nd!

Grade: B+