Review: The Wizard Of The Kremlin

Image courtesy of Gaumont.

The latest film from the great Olivier Assayas is a political thriller that operates in the same vein as "The Last King of Scotland" in that it centers around a fictional character - although the one played by Paul Dano here is inspired somewhat by Vladislav Surkov, a helper to various Russian oligarchs - who is in the orbit of a sinister political figure (in this case, Vladimir Putin, portrayed in the film by Jude Law). The only difference is that Dano's character is nearly as corrupt as the man for whom he works.

The wraparound story in the picture involves a writer, Rowland (Jeffrey Wright), who is in Russia in 2019 to research the author Yevgeny Zamyatin, author of the dystopian novel "We." He is sent a note by Dano's Vadim Baranov, who has a memento of Zamyatin's that he wants to show him. But, of course, this is not the purpose of the visit.

Baranov regales Rowland with his story about how he started as a writer of avant garde theater and then became a Russian state newsman before getting drawn into Putin's orbit by oligarch Boris Berezovsky (Will Keen), with whom Baranov was familiar. At a party in the early 1990s, Baranov also meets the woman - Ksenia (Alicia Vikander) - who will be his on-again, off-again paramour. 

The picture chronicles the decline of Boris Yeltsin's health and his choice of former KGB officer Putin, who in the film is found languishing in the KGB's successor agency, to lead the country. As played by Law, Putin is a man who is always scheming and finds that projecting strength is more important than actually delivering for the Russian people. He's also a bit paranoid.

"The Wizard of the Kremlin" is an often fascinating - if somewhat condensed - version of one of the most catastrophic geopolitical events of the 21st century - Russian's newfound freedom as a democracy in the 1990s quickly devolving into an authoritarian state led by a corrupt and cruel man who remade the country in his own image.

Assayas has deftly brought captured geopolitical moments in the past - his chronicle of Carlos the Jackal in 2010's "Carlos" is probably his masterpiece, while 2012's "Something in the Air" was an engrossing tale set against the backdrop of France's student revolution in the 1960s and 1970s and his Cuban spy movie "Wasp Network" was also memorable. "The Wizard of the Kremlin" may not have been greeted with the same lauds as some of those previous films, but it's a very worthwhile addition to his oeuvre.

Law captures the mannerisms and look of Putin and is very good here, but Dano's soft-spoken portrayal is the performance that carries the film. While the former is a man who feels the need to speak loudly and announce himself in brutish fashion, the latter is comfortable talking quietly because he knows he has power and feels no need to flaunt it.

Our current political crisis - and the U.S. president at the center of it - is never mentioned, but Russia's aggression against Ukraine (here during the War of Crimea) is present, and while the 2016 election is never referenced, Russia's data centers populated by those sending out misinformation - spreading anti-vax views, for example - make an appearance. This is a chilling and engrossing movie about how easily a society can unravel when it falls into the wrong hands.

Review: Obsession

Image courtesy of Blumhouse Productions.

I'm probably going to be in the minority here, but I found Curry Barker's acclaimed horror movie "Obsession" to be a film that I occasionally admired, but by which I was mostly underwhelmed. The past few years has seen the release of a number of well-received horror movies of some depth - "Weapons," "Sinners," "28 Years Later: The Bone Temple," and "Hokum" - that have given new life to the genre. Barker's film has been mentioned alongside that crowd, but I found it to be the weakest link by far.

The setup is fairly simple - it's a new take on "The Monkey's Paw" in which a character comes to learn that what they wished for is certainly not what they wanted. In this case, it's so-called nice guy Bear (Michael Johnston), who has pined for Nikki (Inde Navarette), a member of his circle of friends, for some time but hasn't told her his feelings.

Bear's best friend, the abrasive Ian (Cooper Tomlinson), begs him not to confess his love to Nikki during the group's trivia night and possibly upset its balance, while Sarah (Megan Lawless), the group's other member, has an obvious crush on Bear.

After failing for the umpteenth time to tell Nikki how he feels, he buys a trinket at a shop that could best be described as selling mystical stuff that allows its purchaser to make a wish and requires them to break it in half to seal the deal. Of course, Bear wishes that Nikki would be infatuated with him - and his wish comes true, but in a deranged sort of way.

Suddenly, Nikki moves in and doesn't want to let Bear out of her sight. He recognizes that she is likely with him only due to the wish he made - and not for genuine reasons - and he overlooks this, that is, until her behavior turns increasingly disturbing (her movements suggest something otherworldly at times) and violent.

Navarette deserves credit for her completely committed - and often unhinged - performance as the girl under the spell. One of the film's biggest problems is that by making Bear, a misogynist masquerading as a nice guy, the protagonist and relegating Nikki to outlandish behavior, it robs her of agency. There's a brief moment at the film's end when we could have gotten a glimpse of Nikki's perspective, but we don't.

Worse, the film's nastiest death is perpetrated against another female character, who also happens to be the best person in the movie. A less likable male character is later dispatched so quickly that it barely registers. The film also falls into a repetitive pattern in which Bear leaves the house, comes home, and is treated to increasingly frightening scenarios involving Nikki.

Also, I often believe that the less said the better in the case of horror movies and their mythologies, but "Obsession" is a film that flirts with providing answers, but doesn't do so in a satisfactory manner. At one point, Bear calls a phone number listed on the back of the wish object's packaging and he speaks to someone who sounds like a bored office worker, but who seemingly has insight into how the object works. But we gain no insights. Then, another character makes a wish later in the film that is granted immediately in an unexplainably silly manner.

There are elements of "Obsession" that I admired - namely, Navarette's performance and the picture's memorably gloomy cinematography. The low lighting in nearly every scene helps to convey a sense of doom that never lifts. And the fact that the film's director is only in his 20s suggests that he could have a better movie in him next time around. I didn't dislike "Obsession," but I'm a little surprised by the mostly glowing reviews for a movie that I found to be, at best, only moderately effective.

Review: Blue Heron

Image courtesy of Janus Films.

Much like the recent film "Aftersun," Sophy Romvari's debut film, "Blue Heron," takes a quiet approach in delving into the sad memories of its lead character and much of the tragedy in the story is left to the imagination.

The film feels like - and could very well be - a reenactment of past traumas presented as semi-realistic home movies. Set in Canada at some point in the past - perhaps the late 1990s - the film follows a Hungarian family that includes a father (Adam Tompa) and three children that he has with his wife (Iringo Reti) as well as a teenage boy who was the only child of her previous marriage.

The film is told through the remembrances of the only girl among the four children, Sasha (Eylul Guven), whom we meet later in the film as an adult (Amy Zimmer) as she looks back with sadness and a sense of unknowing about the trials and tribulations of her family. 

Most of the drama revolves around Jeremy (Edik Beddoes), the bespectacled teen from the mother's first marriage. Jeremy clearly has problems - he is brought home by the police for shoplifting, he takes part in dangerous stunts such as walking on the family's roof, and at one point punches out a window, leaving his hand covered in blood. We also overhear a discussion that he once also threatened to burn down the family's home and keeps a gas canister in his room.

The reason why Jeremy engages in this behavior - which also includes intentionally annoying his siblings and refusing to listen to his mother and stepfather - is somewhat of a mystery. There's a scene later in the film in which grownup Sasha meets with a group of professionals in the psychology field who discuss how they would have gone about dealing with Jeremy if they had met him, but they don't provide any easy answers.

The film has a somewhat experimental vibe, with less of an emphasis on plot or traditional scenes and more of one on observance of behaviors among the family members as they idle around the house or spend a day at the seashore, where Jeremy mostly sits atop a large rock by himself.

Unlike her other brothers, Sasha seems at an early age to be more aware of Jeremy's increasingly darker behavior. His parents seem like good people, but they struggle and are frustrated as to how they should handle Jeremy, and a visit with a social worker who suggests they place him in a home only leads to more anguish.

The picture is from the perspective of Sasha, who is a young girl and is, therefore, an unreliable narrator. She tries to recall memories from the time when she was young, but they are insufficient in explaining what happened to she and her family at that time, and what we suppose eventually happened to her brother.

This is a sad movie that has its own unique rhythm and pace. It's the type of film to which the viewer must get onto its wavelength and see where it takes them, rather than trying to pick it apart and explain it in simple terms. 

There's a scene late in the film that requires some work from the viewer, but it's a particularly impactful sequence in which an adult Sasha travels back to the late 1990s - literally, though not in the way most movies would handle such a scenario - to sit in on a consultation between her parents and the social worker. The scene acts as a means of trying to understand and provide grace for all who were involved in that turbulent time - and it, ultimately, becomes the film's raison d'etre. "Blue Heron" is a solid and memorable debut.

Review: The Devil Wears Prada 2

Image courtesy of 20th Century Fox.

While "The Devil Wears Prada" might have seemed like a movie to which no sequel was necessary, this follow-up 20 years after the original is an enjoyable lark and a surprisingly impassioned plea about the importance of retaining historical and cultural outlets in the face of media conglomeration, buyouts, and AI.

The picture picks up two decades after the original with the sort of fairy tale plot that only happens in movies: Anne Hathaway's Andy Sachs wins a journalism award on the same night that her company lays her and her fellow employees off due to a buyout. Now jobless, she reads an article online about how Miranda Priestley (Meryl Streep) threw her weight behind a fashion company that utilized sweatshop labor and has come under fire.

Andy receives a call from Irv Ravitz (Tibor Feldman), who owns the media conglomerate that includes Runway,  offering her a position at that magazine that would enable her to steer its editorial direction. Miranda seems none too pleased, going out of her way to pretend that she doesn't even remember Andy. Stanley Tucci's Nigel - Miranda's right-hand man - gives Andy a warmer reception, albeit one replete with digs - "Look what TJ Maxx dragged in."

Andy writes a piece in which Runway takes responsibility for its actions, which goes down well with media critics, but is otherwise ignored by the public. To impress Miranda, she tries to land an interview with a reclusive billionaire's ex-wife (Lucy Liu) who has refused to speak to the media. She is also shocked to find Emily Charlton (Emily Blunt) working at Dior and that she is now seemingly a rival of Miranda.

Yes, "The Devil Wears Prada 2" still lays it on thick when it comes to the fashion shows, the frosty relationship between Miranda and Andy, and the cultural call-outs (Lady Gaga briefly pops up as herself). But the film also takes seriously its theme of a company with history that favors artistry, craft, and human endeavor - Andy is passionate about journalism that is not determined by advertising -  in the age of media consolidation and the takeover by AI.

At one point, Runway's operations are taken over by Irv's younger son, whose corporatized approach to running the magazine puts everyone's jobs on the chopping block, and an attempt to prevent the buyout with another buyout leads to an even worse scenario, though the film culminates with the type of happy ending that might not seem realistic in the current moment, but felt right for the purposes of this movie.

As always, Streep is great as Miranda and Hathaway is very good as her foil, while Blunt is fun as always to watch as the icy Emily. But Tucci's more subtle performance as the loyal Nigel is the glue that holds it all together. It's fun to watch a cast of talented people having a good time as they revisit these characters.

So, no, "The Devil Wears Prada 2" probably didn't need to exist, but the filmmakers have managed to find an enjoyable and surprisingly relevant reason for returning to this material. Regardless of its fairy tale ending and almost too pat means of solving the characters' problems, I couldn't help being a little moved as well as entertained.

Review: Hokum

Image courtesy of Neon.

While I enjoy horror films, there are few in recent years that I have actually found to be scary. The films of Irish director Damian McCarthy - at least, the two I've seen - are exceptions to the rule. His latest, the haunted hotel film "Hokum," is a great showcase for lead actor Adam Scott and an almost nonstop barrage of spooky moments.

The film opens with a scene from the final novel in Ohm Bauman's (Scott) conquistador series. As Ohm types away in a dark room, we get the sense that something is watching. Much like his previous film, "Oddity," McCarthy is not hesitant to rely on jump scares - but unlike most American horror movies that use them, they are utilized for maximum effect and actually make you jump out of your seat, rather than roll your eyes.

Ohm is haunted by the death of his mother - a somewhat nebulous scenario in which she was shot - and the subsequent death by alcoholism of his father. He plans to travel to Ireland to visit a small country inn where his parents once stayed and to spread their ashes somewhere within its environs.

From the moment Ohm arrives at the inn, he gives off a caustic vibe. This involves a humorous series of scenes in which he denies a bellboy who wants him to read his own manuscript and a man whose son is a fan of his work and wants an autograph. Ohm is off-putting, but his behavior comes off as a defense mechanism for reasons we'll later discover.

The one employee at the hotel to whom he takes a shine is Fiona (Florence Ordesh), who comes to Ohm's aid in a major way that I won't spoil. Later, he learns that Fiona has gone missing and comes to believe that she has visited the hotel's honeymoon suite on the second floor. He is told that the suite has been locked for years because the hotel's owner trapped a witch up there and keeps it closed off to ensure she remains imprisoned.

Ohm meets a strange man in the woods named Jerry (David Wilmot), whom the locals say has an unsettling history, and the two of them agree to visit the suite to look for Fiona. But Jerry gets detained and Ohm ends up in the suite by himself, leading to a night of horrors as he is plagued by creepy visitations - an individual who looks like part-donkey, part man; an actual corpse; and a basement that can only be reached by the world's creepiest dumb waiter and seems to lead into the bowels of hell.

McCarthy's previous film, "Oddity," is one of my favorite horror films of recent memory. It is likely the scariest movie I've seen in years (certainly since "Hereditary") and has a series of diabolically effective set pieces. It's still my favorite McCarthy film, though "Hokum" is a strong following act. Scott is great here as a sarcastic man who unpleasant facade hides a world of pain. The film's setting is unique and spooky and, as was the case with "Oddity," the atmospheric touches go a long way.

And like the best horror movies of the past decade - such as "It Follows" or "Weapons" - "Hokum" is thematically rich and has actual substance (its final scene especially), other than just trying to scare its audience. But for those who just want to be frightened, rest assured that this picture delivers in that department.

Review: Mother Mary

Image courtesy of A24.

David Lowery's surreal pop star saga "Mother Mary" is half of a good movie and half of a baffling one. If you're aware of my tastes, you'll know that I appreciate - and often love - movies that might be labeled as weird, but this one's purpose is somewhat nebulous. To quote Anne Hathaway's pop singer, after whom the film is named, at one point in the picture: "The metaphors are exhausting."

The film opens with Mother Mary (Hathaway) dealing with some sort of crisis by seeking out an old friend and collaborator, Sam (Michaela Coel), at the latter's secluded house, where it seemingly rains nonstop. Sam is a fashion designer and we learn early on that not only did she and Mother Mary once work together, but she is possibly the one who came up with the singer's wardrobe and look. It is also suggested that she was not given proper credit for her efforts.

Mother Mary needs a need dress for an upcoming performance and believes that the one designed by her team doesn't cut it. She seemingly only trusts Sam to do the job, but there's obvious tension between the two women as they sequester themselves in a large room on Sam's property, despite Sam having an upcoming fashion show for which she needs to prepare.

Sam refuses to listen to Mother Mary's music, so when the time comes for the singer to show Sam a dance that she plans to perform in the new dress, she does it without music. It's one of the film's stronger moments and it takes place during the first half, which is better than the second.

At about the midway point, Sam discusses what could best be described as a "ghost" - a large piece of red fabric that takes on different shapes - that she's been seeing. Oddly enough, Mother Mary has seen it as well. The film detours into Mother Mary's history with the "ghost," which began at a seance. As the film goes on, it becomes more symbolic and opaque.

Does the ghost symbolize the two women's partnership - as work collaborators - or is it representative of their friendship that has been lost? The film is often compelling visually, but during its second half, the filmmakers seem to have a difficult time expressing what this all means. Despite this, Hathaway and Coel - who was very good in last week's "The Christophers" - give strong performances, and the film's best scenes involve their monologues or squabbles with each other.

Lowery has delved into offbeat terrain before - namely, "A Ghost Story" and "The Green Knight" - but those films felt as if the strange goings-on merely complemented the overall style and story. Here, the film takes a sharp-right turn in its second half and it feels as if we are watching two distinctly different movies. The first one is compelling, while the second - although visually rich - might leave the viewer scratching their head. The film is a wild swing - the type I'm glad to see directors make - but it only connects about half of the time.

Review: Michael

Image courtesy of Lionsgate.

There has been a fair amount of invective hurled at Antoine Fuqua's "Michael" biopic - and some of it is fair. Some complaints should, perhaps, be saved for later, considering that the story of Michael Jackson is being broken up into two films.

I don't intend to make this the focal point of the review - but to be up front: No, the film does not tackle the allegations made against Jackson involving sexual misconduct. A number of critics have, as a result, blasted the movie for this reason, but they are criticizing a movie that doesn't exist - at least, not yet.

The picture starts in Gary, Indiana in 1966 and ends during Jackson's "Bad" tour in 1988, a period during which no allegations took place. Some might argue that ending the film at this point is a choice in itself - a means of avoiding the problem altogether. Then again, as I mentioned, this biopic is meant to be two films. Considering that the film has been Jackson family-approved, one might have reason to be skeptical as to what will be covered in the second film - but we're not there yet.

To get back to the film that currently exists, my biggest complaint is that, despite Jaafar Jackson's committed performance as his uncle, the film provides a mostly skin-deep portrayal of the King of Pop. Most of the information we get is what we already knew - that Michael was shy, probably lonely, and had a menagerie of animals - including Bubbles the chimp - that he considered friends; and that he had a difficult relationship with Joseph Jackson (Colman Domingo), who ruled over Michael and his brothers with an iron fist and, according to this movie, wasn't afraid to use his belt as an incentive.

But what ultimately makes "Michael" work well enough as a biopic is a combination of two things: the first of which is Jaafar Jackson's portrayal of Michael that, despite being underwritten, is an incredible act of mimicry. It's easy enough to make up someone - especially a relative of the subject - to look like someone else, but it's a whole other thing to capture their aura, their vocal tics, cadence, and dance moves - but Jaafar Jackson does this, especially during scenes recreating the making of the "Beat It" and "Thriller" videos.

It also helps that the movie is chock full of great music and performance sequences - though some might argue that the nonstop concert scenes are meant to pad out a movie in which background is kept at a minimum. There are some curious choices, however - other than the fact that Janet Jackson seemingly doesn't exist, the film barely pays attention to the music from the great 1979 record "Off the Wall," other than a recording session for "Don't Stop Til You Get Enough." The making of and publicity for the "Thriller" album makes up the bulk of the adult years - and I was glad that "Human Nature," my personal favorite Jackson song, makes an appearance.

While Jaafar Jackson is obviously the focus in the film, the supporting cast has its moments, from Miles Teller's John Branca to Larenz Tate's Berry Gordy. Nia Long has some strong moments as Katherine Jackson, Michael's mother. Domingo, who is very good in nearly every movie he is in, has his moments, but Joseph is written as the film's primary villain - and the role mostly requires him to be as unlikable as possible in every scene he's in, not leaving much room for subtlety. 

So, no, "Michael" isn't on the level of some of the best music biopics of recent years - Todd Haynes' "I'm Not There" and F. Gary Gray's "Straight Outta Compton" are high points in the subgenre - and follows the beats one would expect from this type of film. We don't learn much about Michael Jackson, but the film does a good job of capturing his aura, his meteoric rise to the top of the charts, and that moment during the 1980s when he was ubiquitous. 

It's a movie in which energy and music carry the weaker moments just past the finish line. As to what has been left out, it remains to be seen how that will - or won't - be handled in the next film. "Michael" works well enough and should please Jackson fans - for others with reservations, reactions are likely to vary.

Review: The Christophers

Image courtesy of Neon.

Can one be a great artist if one's work isn't recognize - or, in the case of Steven Soderbergh's new film, "The Christophers," can one be considered great if others believe that a great work of art they produced was created by someone else?

That's one of the questions driving the film, which is for much of its running time a two-hander starring Ian McKellen in a great performance as Julian Sklar, a washed up artist who has become cranky and sour, and Michaela Coel as Lori Butler, a young painter with a talent for forging others' work who is hired by Sklar's greedy children to complete a series of unfinished Sklar paintings, so that when he dies they can sell them for a large profit. 

Lori, who has a bit of history with Sklar that is only later revealed, is tasked with obtaining the job of Sklar's assistant, locating the unfinished works (known as "The Christophers"), and completing them in Sklar's style.

Once a fashionable artist in the 1960s, Sklar has become a parody of himself. The only remaining interest in him from the art world revolves around the incomplete paintings, which he made to pay homage to a former lover around the time he came out as gay. In recent years, he has taken to selling his painting on street corners for much less than they are worth to thumb his nose at the art world, and was once on a TV show that can best be described as an "American Idol" for artists where he treated contestants shabbily.

It doesn't take long before Lori admits to Julian that she has been hired by his children (James Corden and Jessica Gunning) to complete "The Christophers," and despite his continuous assertion that he wants to destroy the paintings, Lori recognizes that he, perhaps, actually wants to revisit them.

This is a smaller film for Soderbergh - some critics have called it minor, though I'm not sure that description fits - and its success is derived from the two lead performances. McKellen, always a treasure, is great here as Sklar, whose obvious talent as an artist is often overshadowed by his ego and ability to always say something that will offend others around him. Coel's character is a bit more of a cypher, but there's a reason why her character would need to play it closer to the vest.

Soderbergh has recently been on a tear, releasing three movies in the past year - including the very good and twisty "Black Bag" and the low-budget ghost story "Presence." "The Christophers" is the middle of these recent three - better than the horror movie but not quite on the level of "Black Bag" - but it's a film that follows two intriguing characters who are played by talented actors and provides an interesting twist on the concept of communal art. It's a film that leaves you with something to chew on.

Review: Faces Of Death

Image courtesy of IFC Films.

As a movie-obsessed child of the 1980s who spent a lot of time watching trashy horror movies, I have naturally come across the "Faces of Death" series - at least, the first one - at some point. I'm not sure if I've seen one of the films in full - but suffice it to say, I've seen enough. 

So, it comes as a surprise that director Daniel Goldhaber - whose "How to Blow Up a Pipeline" was a very effective low budget political thriller - has used the notorious mondo series as a jumping-off point for a solid meta slasher film about how the internet has essentially desensitized us all - and begs the question of why people would enjoy watching the real-life suffering of others.

In the film, Barbie Ferreira plays Margot, a young woman who works at a company named Kino that has a TikTok vibe. Her job is to allow content online or flag it as inappropriate, and much of her day is spent watching videos and then either pushing them through or pumping the brakes. Tellingly, she is told to flag anything that is remotely sexual in nature or has to do with drugs - even videos showing how to properly administer Narcan during overdoses - but most of the violent and disturbing content gets a pass.

When Margot flags a series of videos in which a masked man seemingly kills people in gruesome and realistic manners while surrounded by mannequins, her boss essentially tells her to take a chill pill. "We have to give the people what they want," he says, arguing that the videos are probably fake anyway. But Margot is not convinced.

A little research leads her to discover that the murders are inspired by the first "Faces of Death," a film posing as a documentary but in which most of the deaths were actually faked. That film, directed by John Alan Schwartz, featured a fictitious Dr. Francis B. Gross, whose studies revolving around death led him to capture people's demises via alligators, firing squads, and decapitations as well as a sequence involving the killing of a monkey and the devouring of its brains. Yeah, icky stuff.

Curiously, the film's second lead character is Arthur (Dacre Montgomery), a mobile phone store employee who is the person carrying out the murders on film. When necessary, Arthur can charm people to keep them off his trail - there's a scene in which he smooth talks the police into walking away from his house, where he has a young woman wrapped in plastic and fighting for survival. There's a consistent theme in the picture of law enforcement not believing victims.

The film's other - and most fascinating - concept is why we have all become so numb to what we see online. Margot's past involves a video gone wrong on a train track, and her mission to unmask the killer is mostly driven by her desire to clean up the internet. Most of the victims whom Arthur tracks down, drugs, and then reenacts "Faces of Death" sequences upon are influencers or members of the media.

Although the film's gory finale, perhaps, is a case of a movie eating its cake and wanting to have it too, the picture is an effective, disturbing, and suspenseful story that examines why people have a desire to see horrific things online - which include everything from people performing stupid stunts and getting injured in the process to violent death or dismemberment. 

And it's fascinating that it takes an infamous object created prior to the age of viral video - the "Faces of Death" series - and uses it as a commentary on the dehumanizing impact of the life lived online. For a movie birthed from such a disreputable source, this was a genuine surprise.

Review: Miroirs No. 3

Image courtesy of The Match Factory.

The films of German director Christian Petzold are often stories about identity or memory, and often feature people on the run from something. Both of these concepts apply to "Miroirs No. 3," a film that might seem like a slight entry in the director's oeuvre, but is more substantive than one might originally recognize.

Petzold's films "Transit" and "Phoenix" were both films about characters fleeing fascism and the latter had to do with a woman under a new guise seeking revenge, while "Undine" was a story that involved a mermaid. "Miroirs No. 3" also fixates - though more subtly - on transformation and identity and, to an extent, a character fleeing something.

In the film's beginning, a depressed piano student named Laura (played by Petzold muse Paula Beer) tells her boyfriend (Philip Froissant) at the last minute that she doesn't want to take a trip with him and his friends, so he is forced to drive her back, a trip during which they get into a car accident that kills him and leaves her dazed.

A woman named Betty (Barbara Auer), who lives near the crash site, finds Laura and brings her to her home. Surprisingly, while talking to the police, Laura tells them that she doesn't want to go home, but instead hopes to continue staying at Betty's house, an arrangement to which Betty agrees without much deliberation.

The two women get along, and we learn that Laura wasn't particularly close to her boyfriend and, therefore, not as distraught as one might think. We then meet Betty's husband, Richard (Matthias Brandt), and son, Max (Enno Trebs), whose existence comes as somewhat of a surprise. It is suggested that the woman and two men might be somewhat estranged - and it's only later that we realize the full circumstances.

Richard takes to Laura pretty quickly, but there's an edge between her and Max, who is somewhat reluctantly tasked with driving her around and helping to fix her bike whenever it needs repairs (which is frequently). Then, a secret is revealed and the group splinters. The picture's final scenes involve a concert in which Laura is performing and ends with a reaction shot of her face that is likely to be debated as much as the ending of Jafar Panahi's recent "It Was Just an Accident."

I won't debate those who'd consider "Miroirs No. 3" a small - or even minor - film for Petzold. It certainly isn't a film that could be considered his defining work - that would be the excellent "Transit," which focuses on his obsessions and themes on a grander scale - and isn't one of his historical dramas or thrillers (such as "Barbara" or "Phoenix"). 

It's a smaller-scale and intimate film about human nature, but there's a lot going on in the picture for a relatively short movie in which not a whole lot happens narratively. It's well performed - especially by Beer and Auer, each of whose characters are fragile in their own right - and written, and makes great use of its desolate locales. Patient viewers who enjoy subtle character dramas will be rewarded.

Review: You, Me and Tuscany

Image courtesy of Universal Pictures.

There's an entire sub-genre of movies about people, often women, traveling abroad and discovering love and things they didn't know about themselves - two of which get name-checked in "You, Me and Tuscany" during the film's funniest running gag - while traveling abroad, although it usually takes place in Italy.

The difference for "Tuscany" is that, unlike so many of the other films in this sub-genre that lean toward being syrupy or maudlin, it's actually funny and, for the most part, a good time. It's a film filled with characters whose offbeat and often amusing traits are utilized for maximum effect.

The picture opens with Anna (Halle Bailey) getting booted from her latest job as a house sitter after the boss gets home early from a trip and finds out that she's been parading around town in the boss's clothes and taking her cute pup out for a stroll, pretending it belongs to her. Anna later admits that she does a better job pretending to be someone else than living her own life. This likely has to do with her giving up on her dream of becoming a chef after her mother died from an illness.

A chance encounter at a bar with a suave Italian named Matteo (Lorenzo De Moor) that almost results in a one-night stand gives Anna the idea to go to the Tuscan town of which Matteo showed her numerous, gorgeous photos. She goes and when she realizes that she has arrived during the height of a popular festival - and, therefore, she can't find a hotel - she finds Matteo's abandoned villa (he's living abroad, much to the dismay of his family, who wants him to take over the family restaurant), locates an extra key, and breaks in.

After being discovered by the family, she is nearly arrested until they spot her wearing a ring she found in the villa and believe her to be Matteo's fiancee. A run-in with Matteo's at-first gruff, but then later charming, brother, Michael (Rege-Jean Page), leads to a conundrum: She can't exactly strike up a romance with him when he and his family believe that she'll marry Matteo.

Story-wise, the film doesn't go anywhere you don't expect it to, with the exception of Anna taking over the family's restaurant for a special occasion that further endears her to them. But what makes up for a lack of originality and the familiar terrain is the gorgeous scenery, the likable and amusing characters, and the film's good-natured approach to the story.

Typically, these type of romance-abroad-while-finding-yourself movies don't typically lay on the humor too heavily, so it's a breath of fresh air that "You, Me and Tuscany" does. There's a particularly amusing running joke involving tour buses full of women, there's an energetic member of Matteo's family who treats Anna like a confidant regarding her affair with a plumber, and Anna's best friend from home, Claire (Aziza Scott) is the queen of voicemail messages.

Again, the film's beats from start to finish feel overly familiar. But there's a theory that there are basically only seven plots in fiction, whether it's a novel or a movie, so what makes a work successful is the how, rather than the what. "You, Me and Tuscany" approaches its material lightheartedly and with a good sense of humor and, as a result, it makes for a pretty good time.

Review: The Drama

Image courtesy of A24.

Much like Kristoffer Borgli's previous film, the oddball "Dream Scenario," the director's latest film - "The Drama" - works much better when it realizes that it's a dark comedy and finds the absurdity in its premise. It's when the film tries pushing the envelope too hard in being provocative or exploring its back story with any amount of seriousness that it feels less sure of itself.

This is the type of film that audiences will want to walk into without knowing too much as there is a significant twist that comes about 30 minutes into the film that resets the course of the rest of its story. It is nearly impossible for me to write about the film without discussing it, so anyone who doesn't want the plot to be spoiled should stop reading now.

Still here? If you've seen the trailer for "The Drama," you'll know that Robert Pattinson and Zendaya play Charlie and Emma, a couple in love who are about to tie the knot. However, at a dinner with two friends - Rachel (Alana Haim) and Mike (Mamoudou Athie) - the conversation turns to the subject of the worst things that those at the table have ever done.

For three of the participants, it's all stuff that involves shitty decisions, but Emma, probably a bit drunk, reveals that she once planned and nearly carried out a school shooting when she was a bullied teenager. She later got rid of her father's gun and went on to become involved with gun control activism, all of which she later explains to Charlie, but the damage is done.

From there, the relationship begins to unravel, but mostly due to Charlie's behavior. At first, he can't stop prodding her for information, and then becomes increasingly awkward with others - at one point, he sort of harasses a wheel chair-bound cousin of Rachel and, during another, he acts erratically toward and then borderline sexually harasses a coworker. 

Everything culminates with a wedding dinner sequence that makes the scene in "Rachel Getting Married" where Anne Hathaway gets up to speak seem tame by comparison. And scenes like that one, as outrageous as they are, play best as comedy. Despite the dark subject matter, there's a fair amount of humor to be mined from the scenario.

It's when "The Drama" aims to be provocative, or especially when it tries to over-explain Emma's backstory - which remains somewhat thin regardless - that it stumbles. Much like Borgli's previous film, the strange "Dream Scenario," in which a guy played by Nicolas Cage began showing up in everyone's dreams and, as a result, got shunned by society, the film works best when it leans into the oddball humor of its scenario. Although a film that seriously explores material like that in "The Drama" would no doubt be fascinating, this picture only does so half-heartedly.

One dramatic element of the film that works is the crumbling of Charlie and Emma's relationship, and it's in these scenes that Pattinson and Zendaya are most effective. But this is the rare example of a movie where it might have benefited if the character's backstory was kept more under wraps. How ironic that a film titled "The Drama" works much better as a comedy.

Review: Alpha

Image courtesy of Neon.

The 2026 year in film's most prominent attribute so far has been misfires from acclaimed or reputable directors of note - first, it was Emerald Fennell's misguided "Wuthering Heights," then Maggie Gylenhaal's tonally scattershot "The Bride!" and, now I'm sorry to report, Julia Ducournau's "Alpha."

Ducournau's debut, the grim cannibalism tale "Raw," generated a fair amount of excitement among cinephiles. It was more a picture that I admired more than loved, but her sophomore effort, the deranged (and I say that lovingly) Palm d'Or winner "Titane," announced her as a major filmmaker and made my top 10 of that year.

At last year's Cannes Film Festival, "Alpha" was considered one of its biggest misfires, so I went into it knowing that it was considered a step down for the French filmmaker. On the positive side, I didn't think it was as bad as some critics contended, but it's still a movie with some interesting concepts and imagery in search of something better.

The film opens with a young girl of Berber descent named Alpha (Melissa Boros) having the letter "A" tattooed on her arm while she's drunk and passed out at a party. This violation is especially egregious considering that the Paris depicted in the film is being ravaged by a plague of sorts that is similar to AIDS in that it is passed along by exposure to blood, through sex, or from sharing needles.

The only difference is that the afflicted begin to grow skin that could best be described as having marble-like qualities. It chips off in chunks and the infirm tend to cough up dust. As the disease takes over, they begin to look more and more like a statue.

Alpha has already seen the disease up close. Her protective nurse mother (Golshifteh Farahani) is caring for her drug-addicted brother, Amin (Tahar Ramin), who will become a mentor of sorts for Alpha, in their home. Amin is nonplussed about the disease and seemingly has a death wish. After a few mishaps in which Alpha draws blood - plus the letter "A" tattooed on her arm - her fellow students begin to believe that she is also infected and torment her as she awaits the results of a test from a hospital. She also sneaks around with a boy in her class who has a girlfriend.

The letter "A" tattooed on Alpha's arm carries the weight of several concepts - for starters, "A" is literally for Alpha, but it is also the letter with which "AIDS" begins. It's also clearly a reference to the letter "A" in Nathaniel Hawthorne's novel "The Scarlett Letter," which in that book stood for adultery, but here is intended for outcasts in general - and Alpha is certainly one.

While all of this interesting - and the film's visuals are compelling enough, though not on the level of "Titane" - none of these themes particularly go anywhere. They are given to us to ponder, but there is little development of these themes or concepts. Much of the film involves Alpha being harassed by other students, sneaking off to see the boy in her class, or spending time with her uncle, who takes her out to clubs and hotel rooms, where he shoots up.

Farahani is particularly good as the overprotective mother and Rahim is lively as Amin, but their characters are somewhat thinly drawn. The family's Berber origins make for some interesting moments, but they are merely used as color here - a dinner table scene for example. 

And while this material should be well utilized in the post COVID era, the film opts instead to be an AIDS metaphor, but for no particular reason. I'm not sure the film has much to say about that health crisis, other than to use some of its tenets to craft a Cronenbergian body horror drama.

Ducournau is a talented director, as evidenced by "Titane," a film that refused to be pinned down as one thing or another - at moments, it's a film about a female serial killer, then it's a father-daughter drama, and at other moments it veers into wildly surreal territory (a woman is impregnated by a car). It was a film that showed strong directorial command and was one of the most memorable films of the year it was released. 

"Alpha," by comparison, has elements that make it compelling in spurts, but it's a grim story with striking visuals that are in search of a more cohesive framework. I'm not sure what "Alpha" had to say about its subject matter - and I'm not sure the film knows either.

Review: A Magnificent Life

Image courtesy of Picture Box.

It's been 15 years since animator and director Sylvain Chomet released a film, so "A Magnificent Life" is a cause for celebration. Chomet's debut, the acclaimed "The Triplets of Belleville," was an oddball surprise hit, though his follow up, "The Illusionist," although decent, was met with some controversy regarding representation - it was built around an unproduced Jacques Tati script and featured a Tati stand-in as its lead character.

Chomet's latest film is also centered around a French cinematic icon - Marcel Pagnol, a novelist and playwright who turned to film and ended up building his own French movie studio. Some reviews have noted the odd technique that "A Magnificent Life" utilizes by presenting Pagnol trying to write a memoir and being helped along the way by what could best be described as the ghost of his childhood self.

While responses to this conceit may vary, I found "A Magnificent Life" to still be a lovingly detailed and gentle portrayal of a French cinematic icon and an interesting glance at various points in his life. While I'm familiar with Pagnol's work and have seen some of his films - most notably, "The Baker's Wife" and "Merlusse" - I knew little about him otherwise, including that he was a prolific playwright and author for years before becoming involved in cinema.

The early years depict his fleeing Marseille, where he'd later return to build his studio, and his father, an academic, to move to Paris, where his work was performed on the stage to acclaim. The film also shows the dissolution of his first marriage and his friendship and collaborations with Raimu, the jowly, cigar-loving comedian who would star in some of Pagnol's greatest films (such as "The Baker's Wife" and "Fanny").

Considering I'm currently reading Daniel Kehlmann's "The Director," a novelized take on director G.W. Pabst's work while stuck in Nazi Germany, I found the sections in Chomet's picture particularly interesting as Pagnol attempts to ward off the Nazis who take over Marseilles during World War II and seemingly want to collaborate with him. It seems that Pagnol was more adept at navigating these waters than Pabst.

So, ultimately, "A Magnificent Life" might not be as unique or quirky as "The Triplets of Belleville" and I'm not sure it says anything too deep about art or Pagnol's body of work, but it's an engrossing and occasionally moving story about a life well lived.

Review: Project Hail Mary

Image courtesy of Amazon Studios.

Chris Miller and Phil Lord's "Project Hail Mary" is an amiable space adventure that boasts a solid lead performance by Ryan Gosling, a few mesmerizing special effects, and a mostly compelling, albeit challenging to explain, story about the attempts to save the Earth and universe from a decaying agent.

Gosling plays Ryland Grace, a brilliant guy whose slightly out-there theories and difficulty working with others has made him an outcast in the scientific community. Instead of pursuing a career in the field, we find him in the film's beginning teaching middle school.

Grace is approached by a government type (Sandra Huller), who tells him that a theory of his has compelled her to add him to a team of world scientists who are trying to grapple with an infection that has damaged the sun and could cause it to die in a number of years.

As a result, Grace finds himself on a ship with two other dead crew mates, whose demises remain a mystery to him, floating toward a planet some 11 years away that might possibly hold the key to saving the solar system. Somewhere out there in space, his ship comes into contact with another ship that also holds only one passenger - an extraterrestrial that looks as if it's made of stone that Grace ends up calling Rocky who is also the only survivor on his spacecraft.

The two form a quirky duo with the same mission of finding the planet with the possibly cosmos-saving materials on its surface to save their own planets. Grace finds a way to communicate that allows Rocky to be translated into English, although his grasp of the language isn't always top notch - he says "fist my bump" for fist bump and ends every question by saying the word "question."

While this partnership provides a decent amount of laughs along the way, it ultimately finds its way to a surprisingly moving place. Although Huller and some other supporting characters pop up during flashback scenes, this is mostly a one-man show and Gosling gives a lively performance. 

"Project Hail Mary" doesn't break much ground as a space adventure saga, but then again not every film can be "2001: A Space Odyssey." It's an enjoyable, funny, and occasionally moving film about finding courage in oneself for the greater good and the surprises found in connecting with others. 

Review: Undertone

Image courtesy of A24.

Ian Tuason's "Undertone" is a film that I admired and found effective, even if it ultimately felt a little thin and didn't excite me like some of the best examples of the horror genre that we've seen recently - "Weapons," "Sinners," or "28 Years Later: The Bone Temple," for example. The picture makes great use of its single location, it has an unsettlingly effective sound design, and utilizes negative space - also, it's legitimately scary at moments.

The elements that hold "Undertone" back are its story and characterization. The film jumps right into the action as Evy (Nina Kiri), a young woman living at home with her bedridden and ailing mother, and her friend, Justin (Adam DiMarco), who is only heard and not seen, have wrapped up their latest podcast. Their subject matter revolves around supernatural occurrences - often captured on video or audio - that Evy wants to debunk, whereas Justin seems to be more of the true believer.

We only learn a little about Evy as the film moves forward. She seemingly once had a drinking problem, though not much is made of that, and she seems to blame herself for her mother's deteriorating condition, although little is made of that either. Her mother (Michelle Duquet) is positioned on a bed in an upstairs bedroom with her eyes closed and never says a word.

Justin forwards to Evy a group of 10 audio files that were mysteriously sent to him. They appear to be documents of a couple who underwent some sort of supernatural occurrence. The man recording the files claimed that his wife was talking in her sleep and, to prove it to her, began recording her. 

The recordings become increasingly bizarre and frightening as they include strange, unexplainable children's chants and other noises. Justin increasingly becomes convinced that it all has something to do with an ancient demon named Abyzou, who is often blamed for miscarriages and infant mortality. 

Much of the terror in the film has to do with its sound design. Most of the sound we hear comes through Evy's noise-cancelling headphones, but she and the audience increasingly begin to wonder whether the sounds she is hearing are coming from the headphones or her own house. The filmmakers also effectively place Evy on the far side of the frame during a number of shots, leaving the viewer to glance into the darkness on the other side and wonder whether we're actually seeing something or if it's our imagination.

So, while "Undertone" is effective in its sound design and visuals, it often feels undercooked in its storyline. Much like the "Paranormal Activity" films, from which this one seems to have taken some inspiration, it's all about the plot and the scares, rather than building a story. Although Kiri is good as the lead, her character is underwritten and her motivations aren't particularly clear. 

This is a film that is effective for those looking to be creeped out a little, but not so much for those who want something more - which, in this current age of high-quality horror movies, isn't a naive expectation. 

Review: Reminders Of Him

Image courtesy of Universal Pictures.

Now that Nicholas Sparks adaptations have seemingly disappeared, author Colleen Hoover has become the new go-to for soapy melodramas that often feature tragedies and ill-fated romances. The adaptation of her "It Ends With Us" was a surprise hit - and so was all of the legal melodrama that followed - while her "Regretting You" was released last fall and an adaptation of "Verity" is heading to theaters later this year.

The latest in the Hoover book-to-movie pipeline is "Reminders of Him," a modestly engaging story about a woman with tragedy in her past who returns home to try to start over again. The woman's name is Kenna and she's portrayed by Maika Monroe, arguably the scream queen of the past decade whose work in "It Follows," "Watcher," and "Longlegs" was impressive. She does a solid job here, although her character's (well deserved) gloomy nature here isn't a far cry from the bleak horror material that she previously tackled.

Kenna is returning home after a seven-year prison stint and hopes to meet her daughter, Diem (Zoe), who is in the care of her grandparents (Lauren Graham and Bradley Whitford). That couple wants to keep the girl away from Kenna, whom they blame for the car crash that claimed the life of their son, Scotty (Rudy Pankow). Both Kenna and Scotty had been drinking at the time of the crash, but we later learn that the scenario wasn't as cut and dry as most people, other than Kenna, seem to think it is.

Kenna slinks back into town and manages to score a job at a grocery store, all the while living at a cheap motel. She happens to meet Ledger (Tyriq Withers), Scott's best friend who spends a lot of time with Diem and blames himself to an extent for not having been there for his friend. Ledger, who had been living in another city playing professional football before losing his career to an injury, is at first hostile to Kenna, although he warms to her and, as he learns more about the tragedy, begins to have feelings for her.

The trajectory of "Reminders of Him" is not likely to surprise you. It's pretty easy to see the plot developments from a mile away and it's filled with the type of behaviors and decisions that cause drama and only exist to further a film's melodramatic beats.

And yet, Monroe and Withers are convincing as the burgeoning couple that are faced with challenging odds - keeping their romance a secret, all the while trying to find a way for Kenna to convince her daughter's grandparents to let her into their lives. 

"Reminders of Him" is mostly an average film, but it's better than a lot of the Sparks adaptations that seemingly came out every other week some years ago. It's filled with gorgeous photography of the Wyoming locations in which it's set and it has two lead performances that are convincing. While I'm not sure that adds up to a recommendation on my part, there are numerous other films in this same sub-genre that are far less in quality. 

Review: The Bride!

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

I’m always pleased to see directors take wild swings, some of which connect (Darren Aronofsky’s unfairly maligned and kind of brilliant “Mother!”) and some of which miss the mark (Richard Kelly’s “Southland Tales” and Emerald Fennell’s recent “Wuthering Heights” adaptation).

Sadly, Maggie Gyllenhaal’s outrageous and visually stylish “The Bride!” belongs to the latter camp. It’s a movie with almost nonstop energy, although it clearly doesn’t know how to channel that energy into something coherent or captivating.

The film often looks incredible and there references galore – “Bride of Frankenstein” obviously and “Bonnie & Clyde” but also, strangely, “Young Frankenstein” during a scene in which the filmmakers thought it would be a good idea to recreate the famous “Puttin’ on the Ritz” sequence from Mel Brooks’ picture.

One must throw all sense of logic out the door while watching “The Bride!,” which is set during the 1930s, but features modern music and a hodgepodge of other styles and language that are drawn from other eras.

At the film’s beginning, a young woman named Ida (Jessie Buckley) does some sort of work for a notorious gangster (Zlatko Buric) in Chicago. She gets a little rowdy at a club one night and two hoods (John Magaro and Matthew Maher) with whom she is sitting end up killing her. Somewhat unexplainably, the woman has been possessed by the spirit of Mary Shelley (also Buckley), who pops up in black and white to speak to her.

Shortly thereafter, Frankenstein’s monster, known as Frank (Christian Bale), shows up in Chicago at the home of a mad scientist (Annette Bening) saying that he’s lonely and needs a mate. She helps him dig up the body of Ida, whom he renames Penelope, and brings her back to life. In the process, she spits up some black goo, some of which stains part of her face.

The two instantly find themselves in trouble after attending a speakeasy type of club, where Penelope is harassed by two men, whom Frank ends up killing. The two go on the run, with the newspapers reporting about the search for the “monster killers” and two detectives (Peter Sarsgaard and Penelope Cruz) on their trail.

“The Bride!” wans to have its cake and eat it too. There’s a musical number, some grotesquely graphic violence, elements of gangster pictures, a bit of horror thrown in, a romance (sort of), and some nods to other genres (Jake Gyllenhaal pops up as an arrogant song and dance man with whose movies Frank is obsessed).

This is not a film without context or ideas. It is made clear that Penelope is a woman who, having been created at the request of a man, has a fate that is seemingly not hers to control, that is, until she decides to start doing things her way. At the same time, Frank is not overbearing and abusive toward women as nearly every other man in the film appears to be.

During the course of the picture, the bride decides she wants to have agency of her own as do the film’s other women – Bening’s scientist and, especially, Cruz’s detective who exists in a world in which she isn’t taken too seriously by her male coworkers. At times, this material is promising – at others, a little too on the nose, especially during a scene in which Buckley shouts “me too!” over and over.

However, the film is all over the map thematically and the film overall feels disjointed. The manner in which Buckley, who’s the frontrunner for best actress for her powerful turn in “Hamnet,” was seemingly directed is a bit mind-boggling. At times, she speaks as the voice of reason, while at others she goes off on strange tangents in weird voices - during one scene she shouts numerous words ending in “mate,” such as stalemate or checkmate, while in another she does an extended Marlene Dietrich impersonation. Bale, on the other hand, veers from calm and collected to melodramatic shouting.

I’ll give the filmmakers credit – this is a movie with almost nonstop energy and a fair amount of chutzpah. It’s a picture that takes risks. Unfortunately, in this case, it’s not one in which the risks pay off. It’s one that’s destined to be a curio, rather than a picture with the lasting power of the numerous movies to which it pays homage.

Review: Pillion

Image courtesy of A24.

"To thine own self be true," Shakespeare once wrote - and while this command seems simple enough, standing one's ground and admitting aloud what one's wants and needs are might feel like an almost insurmountable obstacle. This applies to Harry Lighton's very funny, often fascinating, well acted, and occasionally moving "Pillion."

The film's title refers to the seat for a passenger behind a motorcyclist, which is fitting enough considering that one of the characters in the film is a gay biker named Ray (Alexander Skarsgard) and the other is a shy young man named Colin (Harry Melling), who rides on the back of the bike behind the hulking man who becomes his lover as they ride to the latter's apartment time and again to spend the night.

The catch here is that the duo are in a dom-sub relationship. Interestingly, this is never spelled out or even discussed. Colin meets Ray at a bar where the former is taking part in an a cappella performance and is approached by the latter. They get together shortly thereafter while walking their dogs on Christmas Day, and Colin is expected to obey Ray's commands and perform oral sex on him in an alleyway.

When Colin is asked to spend the night, he is expected to cook dinner for Ray, serve him, and then sleep on the rug in front of his bed, while Ray sleeps in the bed alone. Colin is meant to be submissive to Ray's needs, and while the latter doesn't display cruelty toward the meek, younger man, he's brusque when the rules are questioned.

The scenario lends itself to a lot of humor, surprisingly, but the dom-sub relationship is not treated as the butt of a joke. One of the funnier scenes is when Colin's well-meaning and square - but honestly trying - parents (Douglas Hodge and Lesley Sharp) come outside to greet Ray on his motorcycle when he comes to pick Colin up as if they were going to prom. Even funnier is when Colin shouts out an awkward "thank you!" while leaving after having gone through an absurd ritual with Ray in which the two wrestle in butt-less outfits and Colin is humiliated.

But despite being a film with many laughs, "Pillion" takes seriously the theme that finding oneself and learning about one's needs requires experience - and that sometimes the relationships that give one the most aren't the ones that necessarily last. There's a scene late in the film in which Ray and Colin spend an abnormal day - at least, abnormal to their typical rituals - that is followed by a moment of genuine heartbreak and then a flash forward to a moment of self actualization.

Skarsgard gives an intentionally restrained performance as his character is inscrutable, but there's also warmth underneath his surface, especially during a scene in which he defends Colin's decisions during a dinner with Colin's family as well as during the aforementioned scene in which they spend a day away from their normal rituals.

Melling - whom most will remember as the armless and legless character from the Coen Brothers' "The Ballad of Buster Scruggs" - is great as Harry, a man who is not so much repressed as he is painfully shy and completely unaware of what he wants out of a relationship. The film is often seen through his expressive eyes, displaying his wonder as he takes part in activities that he most likely would never have experienced had he not met Ray. 

"Pillion" was widely praised at last year's Cannes Film Festival and is the type of film that will likely find a larger audience based on word of mouth. It's often funny, but also sharp in its of observations of how people come to realize who they are and what they want. In its final moments, the film is surprisingly moving. It's one of the year's most memorable films so far.

Review: Scream 7

Image courtesy of Paramount Pictures.

Once upon a time, Wes Craven's "Scream" - which was scripted by Kevin Williamson, who has taken over directing duties here from Tyler Gillett and Matti Bettinelli-Olphin  - was a game changer, a relatively low-budget film that was to the horror genre what "Pulp Fiction" was to the movies in general just two years earlier.

The film's self-referential and meta nature - in which characters realize that they are living through a slasher movie and, therefore, know the rules, having grown up with such pictures as "Halloween" or "A Nightmare on Elm Street" - was praised for its originality and spawned numerous copycats, much like Tarantino's film did.

This year marks the 30th anniversary of that film with the release of "Scream 7," which has mostly made headlines due to its troubled production - the director quit after one of its new-generation leads was fired over comments criticizing Israel's treatment of Palestine and another quit shortly thereafter (possibly in solidarity).

Despite reviews that have been nearly as brutal as some of this latest entry's kills, "Scream 7" is not all that bad. The formula feels a little musty, but it's not the worst entry in the series - a franchise that, miraculously for horror movies, has yet to deliver an outright bad sequel. The film's first half is significantly better than its second, which becomes a bit rote and features what has to be the worst killer reveal in the series.

But it all starts out well with its cold open - a scene in all of the "Scream" films that is set apart from the rest of the action and typically features a character getting bumped off by Ghostface thereby setting off the killing spree - as two horror tourists played by Jimmy Tatro and Michelle Randolph stay at the home of Stu Macher, which was once the site of two bloodbaths but has now been turned into a tourist attraction with ghoulish chalk outlines where people were murdered and memorabilia from the "Stab" films that have been based on the Woodsboro murders.

Shortly after those two characters are dispatched, we learn that Sidney Evans (Neve Campbell), nee Prescott, is operating a small coffee shop in a generic town, living with her good-natured cop husband (Joel McHale), and trying to navigate having a rebellious teenage daughter, Tatum (Isabel May), who is named after Rose McGowan's character from the first film and has a boyfriend, Ben (Sam Rechner), who sneaks in her window just like Billy Loomis once did into Sidney's room.

Sidney has a neighbor pal (Anna Camp) with a slightly creepy son who is obsessed with true crime (Asa Germann), while Tatum's friends include characters played by Mckenna Grace and Celeste O'Connor. Just after the murders at the Macher house, Sidney gets a face-time call from none other than Stu (Matthew Lillard), one of the original "Scream" killers who died at the end of the original film. Sidney wonders whether Stu actually survived and is now taunting her and her daughter or whether someone else is using deep-fake A.I. to mask their true identity.

The attacks begin against Tatum's friends, and this latest "Scream" ups the ante on the gruesomeness - a character gets a knife in the skull at an agonizingly slow pace, another is disemboweled while swinging on a wire above a school stage, and a third is victim to what I believe is cinema's only death-by-beer-tap. Of course, the list of subjects is long - namely, all of the characters mentioned above as well as an employee (Ethan Embry) of the psychiatric hospital where Stu might possibly have been a patient.

Gale Weathers (Courtney Cox) makes a great entrance with the Meeks twins - played by Mason Gooding and Jasmin Savoy Brown - in tow, although they are sidelined later in the film as Sidney and her daughter face off against the Ghostface killers in their secluded, cookie-cutter town.

"Scream 7" has its moments, from its solid cold open to the joys of watching Campbell and Cox team up again. Lillard makes his moments count as Stu, who pops up in face-time messages to Sidney, while Gooding and Savoy Brown deliver some levity. The newer cast mostly exists as knife fodder, with May as the only exception.

But while this seventh entry in the series is not at the bottom of the list - my personal least-favorite was the fourth one - "Scream 7" easily features the worst killer reveal at its end. One character's motivation seemingly doesn't even exist, while another's is long, convoluted and not connected to anything else from the "Scream" movies.

The film tackles some thematic concepts in modern cinema as previous "Scream" films have - in this case, it's A.I. and nostalgia - but the one scene in which a character displays movie knowledge is quickly shut down by another. Overall, this is an OK "Scream" entry - not the worst, but far from the best. If anything, it's a series that still holds together due to its characters - while Melissa Barrera and Jenny Ortega are missed, it's good to see Campbell and Cox back in action.

Review: Psycho Killer

Image courtesy of 20th Century Studios.

A new serial killer thriller from the writer of "Seven" and "8mm" would seem like a movie of some intrigue, but unfortunately Gavin Polone's "Psycho Killer" is a mostly lumbering affair, much like its villain. It feels like a movie that is scraped together with pieces of other, better movies of this type as well as some lesser efforts (the killer's gas mask seems to be borrowed from the grisly and mostly unseen "Found").

The picture follows a young state trooper, Jane Archer (Georgina Campbell), who becomes obsessed with catching a killer who preys on those along the nation's highways and is known as the Satanic Slasher, whose name is more descriptive than it is creative. Her obsession started after she watched the killer murder her husband, also a cop, along a desolate stretch of Kansas highway.

The killer leaves satanic symbols in the wake of his murders and his trail seems to be heading toward a specific purpose. That, at least, is what Jane believes, though she's stymied at every turn by the FBI, which seems pretty bungling, whereas Jane appears to be unbelievably resourceful.

One of the problems with the film is that the Slasher, as portrayed by James Preston Rogers, isn't particularly compelling or convincing. His victims could probably hear or see him coming from a mile away as he's always stomping around in big, loud boots; he wears a radiation mask; he's about seven-feet tall; and has a voice so deep that it sounds as if it should be reading the scripts for movie trailers.

As Jane continues to track the Slasher across the country - a journey that begins in Kanas and makes its way to the east coast - the film begins to get progressively stranger. It all culminates with a bloodletting at a satanic orgy where Malcolm McDowell is acting as the master of ceremonies and everyone is eating boxed Chinese food. It then veers into a plot line that could best be described as "The Silence of the Lambs" meets "The China Syndrome."

Campbell, who was the lead in Zach Cregger's breakout film, "Barbarian," is good enough here as Jane, though she's stuck with some ridiculous dialogue - "go to hell, psycho!" - and her character seemingly exists only to seek revenge for her murderer's husband. But she still can't save a mostly mundane serial killer thriller that gets increasingly ludicrous. 

"Psycho Killer" was apparently stuck in development hell for years before it was finally released this week. That it is now finally seeing the light of day is, perhaps, only a cause for celebration for those who made it.

Review: How To Make A Killing

Image courtesy of A24.

There have been wiser and more thematically rich movies about the haves and have-nots (Bong Joon Ho's "Parasite") and others that are more scabrous ("Triangle of Sadness"), but John Patton Ford's "How to Make a Killing" - a comedic thriller that follows his promising debut, "Emily the Criminal," which explored some similar themes but more seriously - is one that is merely amusing without getting too heavy about the topic.

The reviews for the film, which is a remake of the 1949 film "Kind Hearts and Coronets," have mostly been middling, perhaps because other films have explored the ideas therein in a manner that was more reflective of the times or had more to say. This is probably true, but I still enjoyed Ford's film, which makes up for its lack of rich thematic content with dark humor and some solid performances.

The story follows the tale of Becket Redfellow (Glen Powell), whom we know must have been born into a rich family because who else would give their children such a name? Becket's mother was one of the children of a rich man named Whitelaw Redfellow (Ed Harris) - again with the names - who disowned her after she became pregnant with a poor man's child.

She is ostracized and her son, Becket, faces a lower middle class upbringing. His desire to attain wealth first finds its inspiration in a haughty young girl who will grow up to be a sinister femme fatale played by Margaret Qualley. The other inspiration is that he learns that his mother, despite being kicked out of the family, is still in line to obtain the family fortune.

Becket gets an idea to get close to the seven family members ahead of him on the family tree and, learning that most of them are terrible anyway, decides to bump them off. The first murder is amusingly simple, although they become more elaborate from there.

During this scheme, Becket meets two people of worth - Ruth (Jessica Henwick), the girlfriend of a layabout artist cousin who is among the seven to knock off, and Warren (Bill Camp), an uncle who is among the seven but has a kinder heart, helping Becket to get a job in the family business, where he quickly ascends the ranks, all the while killing family members in manners that he attempts to make look like accidents.

Soon enough, a pair of FBI agents begin sniffing around and, considering his recent appearance on the scene, make Becket their prime suspect. Meanwhile, Qualley's horrific Julia pops back up and, when he spurns her for Ruth, begins to blackmail Becket.

Like other recent films such as "The Menu" or "Blink Twice," Ford's film finds humor in awful rich people getting their comeuppance. The murders in "How to Make a Killing" are not particularly gory, but they are pretty funny. And most of the family members - especially Topher Grace's televangelist character - are absurdly awful individuals. 

So, while "How to Make a Killing" doesn't particularly say anything that films like "Parasite" or "The Menu" didn't say better, it's still an enjoyably well made, well acted, and darkly comedic remake of the classic British film by Robert Hamer. It's certainly better than some of the reviews out there may have led you to believe.

Review: Wuthering Heights

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

There are times when a director of some acclaim or success becomes drunk on their own style and, in the process, goes a little off the deep end. 

Such is the case with Emerald Fennell, whose "Promising Young Woman" was a critical success - and it remains her best film in my opinion - although some have taken aim at the way it portrays justice for survivors of sexual assault. Her second film, "Saltburn," was effectively made, while at the same time making it very clear that Fennell's primary interest is pushing buttons.

Her latest, an adaptation of Emily Bronte's masterpiece "Wuthering Heights," finds her taking a beloved Gothic tale and turning it into a horny harlequin romance - but one that's a bit on the dark side. Yes, it's stylish in the manner of her other films and features a soundtrack by Charli XCX, which is honestly the least distracting thing going on here.

Remember in Bronte's novel when a man on the gallows gives all new meaning to being hung as the crowd giggles at his prominent erection and the executioner shouts, "It's a fucking hanging!"? 

Recall that scene when Heathcliff ties up poor Isabella and makes her bark like a dog? Or that scene when Heathcliff and Catherine watch two servants get randy in the barn? How about that other sequence in which Heathcliff catches Catherine masturbating on a rocky cliff?

Me neither. Before being accused of being a prude or someone who doesn't like to see great works deviate from the text in new adaptations, I must point out that my problems with Fennell's "Wuthering Heights" has less to do with the fact that she is mucking about with a story that has been done better in 1939 by William Wyler and in 2011 by Andrea Arnold, but rather that the film is concerned more with style over substance and button pushing over providing a new perspective on a classic tale. It also conveniently skips over the possibility of Heathcliff being of mixed race.

Both Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi do their best as Catherine and Heathcliff, while Alison Oliver is amusing as Isabella and Hong Chau is an effective Nelly Dean, but it's the material - or rather, the interpretation of it - that fails them.

This is an often visually gorgeous film, and the set design is immaculate, from Isabella's somewhat creepy doll houses to the interior decor at the home of Edgar Linton (Shazad Latif), the rich man whom Catherine marries. There are beautiful shots of snow falling and scenic views of the cliffs surrounding the home where Catherine and Heathcliff face a cruel childhood, only to reconvene years later for a fated romance.

The film ends somewhere around the novel's midway point, perhaps because the second half of the novel would have made for a too long and expensive film - or maybe because it lends itself more to being the kind of tragic romance to which the filmmakers seemingly aspired.

I've read in interviews that Fennell said the film was inspired by her reading it as a teenager and how it made her feel at that time. The picture was borne out of her 14-year-old's obsession, apparently, with the novel. This might explain why the film could best be described - to quote the Sex Pistols - as oh so pretty... vacant.