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+

Director: Durga Chew-Bose
Writer: Durga Chew-Bose, Françoise Sagan
Stars: Chloë Sevigny, Lily McInerny, Claes Bang

Synopsis: Cécile’s relaxing summer with her father in the south of France is upended by the arrival of the enigmatic Anne.

Bonjour Tristesse is a weird little movie that seems out of place in today’s idiosyncratic film scene, where gender and sexual lines are blurred in a cacophony of bodies and even asexual characters dominating storylines, carving their own lane in a turbulent, more liberating time for the chance to be every multitude of sexual. It’s a very male-centric love story, a man surrounded by the three women in his life and how the lust surrounds him like a peacock in the heart of a lush, beautiful environment. Adapted from Françoise Sagan’s novel of the same name, it’s a celebration of liveliness in all its arrogance, elegance, and fragility.

It starts from a vantage point of pure aesthetics. Three rich people enjoy themselves by the French seaside, until the father, Raymond (Claes Bang), receives a letter from a mysterious stranger, Anne (Chloë Sevigny), who was a friend of his late wife. With Anne’s insertion back into their lives, Raymond, his daughter Cécile (Lily McInerny), and his lover Elsa (Nailia Harzoune), have their coexistence stirred into uncertainty by this mysterious presence.

Bonjour Tristesse is pure eye candy; there’s not a lot that bothers the Upper Class. Materialistic hardships seem outside their focal interest, yet they experience agony over heartbreaks and jealousy. The perspective is mostly from the point of view of Cécile, as the camera voyeuristically follows Anne, who engages in all womanly things in a poignant, refined manner. She resembles an ethereal figure passing through the walls of the spacious, serene house. She unifies the polar opposites of Raymond and Cécile while commanding attention with every step, moving from room to room and space to space with chilly confidence and an ice queen attitude that never fails to get her what she wants.

Director Durga Chew-Bose mentioned during a Q&A that her main focus in driving the characters is jealousy. The film references this intense emotion multiple times, making it one of the central concepts that drive the narrative forward. Raymond was jealous of the relationship his late life had with Anne. Elsa is jealous of Anne. Cécile is jealous of the developing romance between her father and Anne. Everyone is envious of everyone. It’s fantastic and delicious to watch, like a Zoomer Dangerous Liaisons, without the sex.

Chew-Bose smoothly ventures into this velvety world of slicing fruit, buttering toast, lying lazily in the sun for hours, and having breakfast in pearls. This imagery brings to mind Éric Rohmer’s gorgeous naturalistic settings with daylight and intimate production design. It also embodies the spirit of Luca Guadagnino’s Desire trilogy as Maximillian Pittner’s curious camera follows the protagonists as they go about their daily lives—neither too close nor at a great distance. The viewer will feel like a fly on the wall, watching as these people attract and repel one another, failing to get a grasp on their latent desires as they each grow into the confined spaces they create for one another.

None of this would have worked without the chameleonic Sevigny. How many times has she played a character so different from the one she portrayed before? She’s convincing as the tight-lipped, snobbish Anne, who has a tender heart but a crushing command over both her feelings and those of the people around her. Sevigny is compelling as an abusive mother, a rebel teenager, a mutant, as much as she is as Anne; the only acting standout in the entire movie. Without her, everything would have taken a turn for the worse. Unfortunately, the entire cast doesn’t match her level of acting prowess, especially Bang, who is completely out of his element here.

Bonjour Tristesse is a razzle dazzle of a film. Flawed, a bit too long, but not for the sensuality seekers. It’s a great escapist piece for the old souls.

Grade: B+

Director: Isaiah Saxon
Writer: Isaiah Saxon
Stars: Helena Zengel, Willem Dafoe, Emily Watson

Synopsis: In a remote village on the island of Carpathia, a shy girl is raised to fear an elusive animal species known as ochi. But when she discovers a wounded baby ochi has been left behind, she escapes on a quest to bring him home.

As a distributor, A24 has released almost exclusively adult fare over the last 12 years since its inception, all while establishing themselves as a prominent voice in the independent film community and creating a massive following among moviegoers. That changes with The Legend of Ochi, as it marks the first movie in their catalogue to be rated PG and made for all audiences.

Based on an original story written and directed by Isaiah Saxon, the movie follows Yuri (Helena Zengel), a shy, introverted girl living in a village on the island of Carpathia. Her father, Maxim (Willem Dafoe) and adopted brother, Petro (Finn Wolfhard), are part of a hunting team that goes into the forest at night to find Ochi; mythical creatures who the villagers are afraid of and believe cause nothing but harm to humans and kidnap them. During one of these hunts, however, Yuri finds an injured baby Ochi, who is separated from the rest of its family. Wanting to help it return to its home, Yuri sets off on a journey across the island to find the other Ochi, as her father and brother attempt to find her.

The Legend of Ochi wears its influences on its sleeve, being a love letter to family fare such as E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial and The Neverending Story with several shots and visuals a direct reference to each movie, and even the recent The Mandalorian with the young Ochi having parallels to the universally beloved Grogu. A blend of actual environments and matte paintings to showcase its backgrounds and environments, the old-school approach to filmmaking on display is commendable, with the Ochi portrayed with puppets and animatronics, with some CGI added throughout. The result is a mostly dazzling experience with impressive production design and Evan Prosofsky’s often colorful, vibrant cinematography, and filled with solid performances from Helena Zengel and Willem Dafoe, as well as Emily Watson as Dasha, a mysterious character with close ties to Yuri and Maxim, and all layered with a beautiful score from David Longstreth.

Saxon’s world building in Ochi is fascinating, often showcasing a land lost in time with the forest, as well as one incredibly contemporary with modern technology and buildings outside of it. His message about the world is clear: protecting the environment and animals is key to having a more beautiful planet. It is a message echoed across countless movies, but still an effective one. Where the movie does suffer, however, is in its callbacks to those inspirations Saxon derives The Legend of Ochi from, as it makes the progression of the narrative quite predictable. Certain moments where Yuri and the Ochi find themselves wondering how to escape a situation are met with the exact adversity audiences would expect to see, as well as similar solutions to get to the next scene. This further extends to the supporting characters like Maxim and Petro, who initially believe everything about the Ochi is wrong, only to have their beliefs challenged by Yuri’s actions.

Ochi’s world-building is also given a lack of expansion in parts, where its more unique aspects, such as their language, habitat, and mythos are sidelined in order to focus more on the humans and their pursuit, despite those elements being highlighted as more important to Yuri’s journey. As such, the movie can feel a bit incomplete in areas and lack a clearer focus. However, the child-like wonder of The Legend of Ochi and its creativity cannot be understated. Despite its flaws, the movie remains an overall very sweet and enjoyable watch, and a decent start to A24’s more family oriented fare.

Grade: B

Director:  David Bushell
Stars: Tommy Chong, Cheech Marin

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grade: B-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grade: B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grade: B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grade: D

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grade: F

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grade: C

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grade: B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grade: C+