Wicker - Review: A Tisket, A Tasket, A Very Sexy Basket

 

Love can be found in any corner of the world, and that is a wonderful thing. Any person can fall for any other person and often times the tales of how they fell in love make for moving films and examples of the power of romance. Love can also provide a cautionary tale for many a person, and it's the subject of many many fables like "The Wicker Husband" by author Ursula Wills. That fable serves as the basis for writer/director Alex Huston Fischer ("Save Yourselves!") and Eleanor Wilson's ("Save Yourselves!") quirky, sexy take on a romantic fable that proves to be quite attractive in its own right.

"Wicker" follows the Fisherwoman, played by Olivia Colman ("The Favourite," "The Night Manager"), who lives out her life as an aging spinster amongst her towns happily married couples. One day, she asks the Basket Weaver, played by Peter Dinklage ("Game of Thrones," "Death at a Funeral"), to make her a husband of her own. Much to her surprise, not only does he agree, but the Wicker Husband, played by Alexander Skarsgård ("True Blood," "The Northman"), he builds proves to be a living thing. He quickly makes the Fisherwoman's life better, much to the chagrin of the rest of the townsfolk, including the jealous Tailor's Wife, played by Elizabeth Debecki ("The Crown," "Tenet").

Fischer and Wilson keep the tone of this tale sweet and spicy in equal measures, and it gives the entire project a very lighthearted appeal. This is very much a fable, with a moral quandary in its third act and characters that fit into very tight archetypes. However, they never let that hold the script back; it lightly pokes fun at the very conventions that it's playing in and manages to establish real drama between each character. For a film as silly as this in its base premise, it's kind of a miracle that Fischer and Wilson are able to foster genuine connection to each character and their stories, regardless of what they're made of. The film also manages to be sexy without feeling perverted, keeping each characters desires at the forefront and letting the Fisherwoman and other women have a clear sense of agency. The way it deconstructs the sexual politics of the town is delicate, but also biting and silly. It's purposefully horny, one might say.

Colman plays these kinds of roles flawlessly, and the Fisherwoman is no different. She knows what level of serious and silly to be at each moment, how to mix the two together, and how to just revel in the drama. She's effortlessly charming and makes for a delightful lead. Opposite her, Skarsgård completely gives himself over to a role as physical and endearing as the Wicker Husband. He takes things completely seriously, often acting as the straight man in numerous scenarios while the Fisherwoman or the rest of the town goes crazy around him. Debecki gets a bit less to do, but is a remarkably compelling antagonist and likely the most complex character of the bunch. Dinklage rounds things out as a comedic side character who proves to be as interesting as he is mostly due to Dinklage himself. As he paces back and forth, citing borderline Shakesperean monologues to himself, the mystique around him grows, but remains in the background so as not to overshadow the rest of the characters. The surrounding cast all keep things light and frothy, providing plenty of comedic bits throughout. It's a who's-who of character actors, and each excels.

Everything is awash in a warm glow, with a sunny atmosphere that comes somewhere between 1970s Hollywood production and historical reenactment. No one attempts to keep to old English dialogue or keeps truly accurate accents. It's a very loose atmosphere, which again ties back to its origins and identity as a fable. The look of the film might be fairly straightforward, but cinematographer Lol Crawley ("The Brutalist," "The Devil All The Time") keeps things just askew enough to match the rest of the film's energy. On a technical side, for as simple as the film might look, the Wicker Husband himself is a true feat of practical effects and engineering. Scenes go by where the Husband will move and act, with Skarsgård clearly inside the suit, but sunlight shines through the holes in the wicker, as if there's nothing inside but air. It's a simple but borderline mind-boggling effect that sells the magical act at the center of the film's events. Enough cannot be said at how seamless it looks.

"Wicker" is a simple fable, but one that executed quite fantastically. Coleman and Skarsgård are perfect together, and the silly nature of it all never wears away. It's effective character drama, dressed up in period strife and magic to craft a unique romance that's heartwarming and sexy in equal measures. Definitely a surprise of the year, not only in how sweet it is as its core, but how genuinely romantic it ends up being by the end. 4.5/5

Wildwood - Review: A Handmade Masterpiece

"From the Hands that made Coraline" the poster proudly declares. That may be true, but Laika has been gracing movie goers with new stop-motion adventures every few years since their founding in 2005. The studio has given us the 2009 modern classic, as well as "ParaNorman," "The Boxtrolls," "Kubo and the Two Strings," and "Missing Link," each beloved upon their releases. Now, after seven years in active production, almost seventeen in development, and having reinvented their own production tools, Laika's longest and most ambitious film yet hits theatres. "Wildwood" is here.

After her baby brother Mac is taken by a swarm of crows, 13-year-old Prue McKeel, played by Peyton Elizabeth Lee ("Andi Mack," "Doogie Kameāloha, M.D."), ventures into the Impassible Wilderness, the fog covered woods surrounding Portland, Oregon. Accompanied by her classmate Curtis, played by Jacob Tremblay ("Room," "Wonder"), she ventures into the land known as Wildwood, a seemingly separate world of humans and animals living together in a woodland society, as she attempts to find her brother and seek out the leader of the Coyote army, Alexandra the dowager governess, played by Carey Mulligan ("Promising Young Woman," "Pride & Prejudice (2005)").

Adapted from the 2011 novel by Colin Meloy and Carson Ellis, Chris Butler's ("ParaNorman," "Kubo and the Two Strings") script manages to expertly handle the film's grand adventure and heavy themes with a deft hand. No parts ever feel watered down, and yet also never feel trumped up purely for the sake of it. It's an unflinching movie in its drama and violence, earning a rare PG-13 rating for an animated film. Prue is an excellent protagonist, and her coming of age tale is an inspiring and thrilling one. Butler avoids any moments of grand speeches or opining to overexplain themes. In fact, one monologue moment is completely muted, with only the music swelling behind it. Butler and director Travis Knight ("Kubo and the Two Strings," "Bumblebee") so clearly understand their audience's intelligence and sincerely respect it, letting the film's ideas flourish and speak for themselves. 

Lee's vocal performance is nothing short of perfection. Prue is the sort of exceptionally complex character most actors would dream of, and she imbues her with a teenaged energy and mentality that perfectly sets her up against the fantastical nature of her adventure. This is a classic coming-of-age arc, but one that's made more complicated by Prue's own nature, with Lee's performance perfectly buoying those intricate details. Tremblay's role may initially seem like a comedic supporting act, but Curtis's arc through the film is a perfect example of how the film starts simple and builds to something far more complex. His performance is excellent as well, and Curtis becomes a standout throughout the film. Mulligan is a menacing and heartbreaking antagonist, and her motherly voice is a soothing sense of dread throughout this tale. It's a performance that stands out as one of the actress's best in an already storied career.

These three leads are bolstered by an impressively broad supporting cast with all manner of talents behind them. Some appear for mere moments in more comedic capacities, like Jemaine Clement ("Moana," "What We Do in the Shadows") or Marc Evan Jackson ("Brooklyn Nine-Nine," "The Good Place"), while others make big impacts with limited screentime. Jake Johnson ("New Girl," "Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse") and Maya Erskine ("Children's Hospital," "PEN15") play Mac and Prue's father and mother respectively, and they do wonders of warmth and emotion with only minutes of screentime. Angela Bassett ("What's Love Got to Do with It," "Black Panther") is the Avian General and sets her commanding presence on the screen alongside a massive wingspan. Tom Waits ("Short Cuts," "Bram Stoker's Dracula") gives life to Maksim, one of Alexandra's coyote commanders, and his gravelly voice is a menace whenever it crawls back into your ears. Awkwafina ("Crazy Rich Asians," "The Farewell") plays Septima, a rat who befriends Curtis, and she manages to deliver a remarkably somber and understated performance given her previous vocal work. It's a cast full of character actors, big names and small, and each and every line melts into the fantastical world until they're imperceptible from the character.

The film's characters and story are excellent, and reason enough to see the film, but the sheer feat of technical craft on display makes this a film that simply inspires awe. Entirely animated by hand, with 24 frames for one second of film, "Wildwood" is simply breathtaking. From the smaller moments of almost imperceptible human detail to massive battles with hundreds of characters on screen together, it's a mind-boggling amount of work put into this story. Scenes of characters wading through leaves as the wind blows them around them or tussling and rolling around in fights are exciting to watch, but then the thought reenters that every bit of what is on screen is not only human made, but handmade and it becomes all the more impressive. To have a story so focused on growing up and becoming a new person crafted with this level of intricacy lends a new level of meaning that even other animation mediums simply cannot match.

Beyond even the handmade nature of everything, it's a gorgeous film. Cinematographer Caleb Deschanel ("The Right Stuff," "The Black Stallion") works to frame each moment as precisely as possible. His specific look meshes with Laika's animation beautifully. This is backed up by Dario Marianelli's ("Atonement," "Anna Karenina") phenomenal score that blends traditional fantasy instruments and themes with an undercurrent of alt guitars and drums. These help the film's pace to never falter, keeping you immersed in the tale without overloading things with saccharine moments or incomprehensible action. It's a believable tale, despite the seven-foot-tall birds and armies of coyotes. Knight's hand is a calm, commanding one that steers this ship into the territory occupied by other fantasy epics like "The Lord of the Rings" and "The Dark Crystal." It's a sweeping film for all ages, but with the maturity and respect that will make it last across generations.

"Wildwood" is a fantastic coming-of-age tale, packed with complex characters and arcs in a world that's easy to get lost in. It's one of the best stories of the year, and it would already be an easy recommendation if that was the end of it. But the sheer technical feat on display for the gorgeous, jaw-dropping animation pushes it over the edge into the realm of the sublime. This is a truly special film, even amongst Laika's already impressive catalog. Knight leads his team forward into new territory for this beloved medium and turns a fantasy epic into something more. It's not a film. It's magic. 5/5 

Full of Grace: Reflecting on "Ken Russell's The Devils" 55 Years Later

 

The following contains spoilers for the full plot of "Ken Russell's The Devils."

In 1634, a group of nuns in the town of Loudon in the kingdom of France reported being possessed by devils, all beset upon them by the town's head priest Urbain Grandier. He was investigated by the Catholic Church, found guilty of witchcraft, and burned at the stake. The tale of Grandier and the town of Loudon became known as the Loudon Possessions, subsequently written as the novel "The Devils of Loudun" by English philosopher Aldous Huxley in 1952, then adapted into a play simply titled "The Devils" in 1961 by John Whiting. A decade after the play's release, United Artists brought a film adaptation to British film director Ken Russell's as a potential next project. However, after reading his finished script, the studio backed out, fearing the potentially controversial nature of the material. It was at that point that Warner Bros. stepped in to fund the project, eventually being released in 1971. 

But that was not the end of the trouble for Russell's project. While it was eventually released, the film was a lightning rod for controversy due to the depictions of nudity, sexuality, and violence within the religious story. It was branded with an X rating, the 1970s equivalent of the NC-17, even after receiving heavy edits for its content. While a modest success at the European box office, the film has since languished. Every subsequent release, either streaming or home media, was the censored version, and it has remained a subject of intense controversy. Initially met with a mixed reception, the film's esteem has grown over the decades since its release, in part due to the rumor uncut version eventually being released, but also due to even the censored version being notoriously difficult to watch.

In April 2026, Warner Bros. announced that they would launch a new label focusing on smaller independent projects as well as restorations of more obscure classic Warner Bros. Films, named Warner Bros. Clockwork. Alongside announcing that they would distribute the newest projects from the likes of Sean Baker ("Anora," "The Florida Project"), Mary Bronstein ("If I Had Legs, I'd Kick You"), Park Chan-Wook ("Oldboy," "The Handmaiden"), and Noah Baumbach ("Marriage Story," "The Squid and the Whale"), it was announced that the first film released by the new studio would be a full restoration of the original uncut version of "The Devils," now referred to as "Ken Russell's The Devils" and released in theatres for one week only on October 16th, 2026, with a home media release to follow later.

This has been, understandably, hailed as a massive success for cinephiles but also for anyone interested in film preservation and censorship. For years, it was assumed that the reason the full version had yet to be released was because it had been lost to time. After all, why would a company like Criterion, Kino Lorber, or Arrow, home media distributors who specialize in restorations and cult films, not pick it up if it did exist? But beyond that, the film's existence in its entirety means that we can examine what it was trying to say and hold it up against a modern lens. An exercise that reveals that, despite being over half a century old now, it is far more potent and representative of our modern-day political landscape than one would hope.

As is often the case with films that deal with religion, the controversy the film elicited in its original release stood in stark contrast to the film and story's morals. The film sees the charismatic priest of Loudon Father Urbain Grandier, played by Oliver Reed ("Gladiator," "Oliver! (1968)"), accused of causing the possession of Sister Jeanne des Agnes, played by Vanessa Redgrave (" Morgan – A Suitable Case for Treatment," "Julia"). These accusations result in the Catholic Church sending Father Pierre Barre and Father-Canon Jean Mignon, played by Michael Gothard ("Arthur and the Britons," "For Your Eyes Only") and Murray Melvin ("A Taste of Honey," "Barry Lyndon") respectively, to investigate the possession and ultimately hold a witchcraft trial for Father Grandier. Yet, very early on in the film Russell's makes an important distinction: Sister Jeanne, as well as the rest of the nuns in her convent are faking their possessions and the Baron de Laubardemont, played by Dudley Sutton ("The Leather Boys," "Lovejoy"), has been sent to oversee the exorcisms specifically so they can get Grandier out of the picture and take the town over for King Louis XIII of France.

That falsity is where the film's intrigue lies, and it's also where it becomes as politically relevant now as it has ever been. Grandier is a man who openly admits that he has faltered in position in the church. The first time we seen him, he is laying naked with the daughter of one of the town's other priests as she confesses that she is pregnant by him. But as the film progresses, it becomes apparent that, whatever his faults, Grandier is a man of faith and puts the people of his town above himself. He states as much during his trial, "My lords, I am innocent of the charges. And I am afraid. But I have the hope in my heart that, before this day ends, Almighty God will glance aside and let my suffering atone for my vain and disordered life. Amen." He may be a fornicator, as the film itself describes him, but when he finds a woman he truly loves in Madeleine de Brou, played by Gemma Jones ("Marvellous (2014)," "Gentleman Jack""), he commits to her. Their marriage might be in secret, but it is performed by Grandier to the specifications of church doctrine. The first time Laubardemont appears to attempt to demolish the town's walls, he demands he stop, or Grandier will make sure he and the demolishers do not leave the town alive. During his trial and final moments at the stake, Grandier does not just proclaim his innocence in the possessions but encourages the townsfolk watching to not stand by as their homes are taken by the political elite. "Don't look at me! Look at your city! If your city is destroyed, your freedom is destroyed also... If you would remain free men, fight. Fight them or become their slaves." He is the example of a man who lives to the meaning of his religion, even if he falters in his own actions. 

It would be easy to end things there, to make the film and story be about political leaders weaponizing citizen's disdain for an individual for their own gain. But Russell's is smart in his depictions and broadens the film's scope to also encompass the members of the church who are unwittingly pitted against Grandier. Father Pierre Barre and Father-Canon Jean Mignon are men who believe in what they are doing, unaware of how they are being manipulated by the nuns and Baron. If you were to ask them, this is an unfortunate but righteous mission. But they are all too easily manipulated by those with true evil in their hearts to attack and harm their fellow Priest. As Grandier is tied to the stake, Father Barre shouts at him, "Confess! Confess! You have only a moment to live!” Before Grandier retorts, “Only a moment, but then I face the just and fearful judgment that you too, reverend father, will soon be called."

There's much to be made of the political message of the plot, but most interestingly isn't how the 1971, or even 1952 and 1961, interpretation feels just as relevant today. It's that even shortly after the original event in the 1600s, the public was aware that this was all likely a sham made up to get rid of Grandier. English philosopher John Locke stated "The story of the nuns of Lodun possessed, was nothing but a contrivance of Cardinal Richelieu to destroy Grandier... the nuns played their tricks well, but all was a cheat," and he made this observation in 1679. We can be as observant as humanly possible in hindsight, but the most pain is caused at the moment of the deception. Russell knows this and showcases this as numerous characters are slowly turned into props for the King of France and Sister Jeanne throughout the film. Their beliefs are never shown to be faults or a poison within them, but rather it is time and time again the power held over them by those with higher status that is the greatest sin, and it is that which contorts their honest and innocent beliefs into their own downfall.

There is something truly poetic about a film like this, after being buried for so long, being the first film released after Paramount/Skydance's purchase of Warner Bros. Beyond the fact that Paramount as a studio has rarely touched material like this, Skydance is run by David Ellison, a self-proclaimed close friend and advisor to President Donald Trump. To have the first film released underneath this new ownership be a long censored religious story involving heresy, blasphemy, and accusations of witchcraft made to benefit the political elite and harm the everyday citizens does not fall on deaf ears. Yes, it is a triumph that the film exists in its current form at all, and that should be celebrated. It also cannot be ignored that, due to its content, the film simply will not be for everyone and will likely still be argued against for years to come. But we cannot be so naive as to ignore so much of the relevance that is at its core. For once the vitriol and controversy begins, it is impossible to quell no matter the effort. Father Grandier says so himself with a line that eerily predicts how the film would be received even before its release: "If the Devil's evidence is to be accepted, the most virtuous people are in the greatest of danger, for it against these that Satan rages most violently. I had never set eyes on Sister Jeanne of the Angels until the day of my arrest, but the Devil has spoken, and to doubt his word is sacrilege."

Street Fighter (2026) - Review: Combo Breaker

 

They have always existed together, in sync, like brothers. Of course, one could only be referring to the two legendary fighting game series "Mortal Kombat" and "Street Fighter." While the latter was introduced five years before the former, once they both hit arcades at the same time, they were sympatico. One was more violent than the other, one had more realism (so to speak), and both incited schoolyard arguments of which was better and which characters could take on the other. So, just as each got their own live action films in the 90s, they are both getting live action reboots in the 2020s. We had "Mortal Kombat" a few years ago and "Mortal Kombat 2" just a few months ago, so now it's time for "Street Fighter"... again.

The film follows best friends Ken Masters and Ryu, played by Noah Centineo ("Black Adam," "To All the Boys I've Loved Before") and Andrew Koji ("Warrior," "Bullet Train"), years after the pair parted ways after Ryu won the 1987 World Warrior tournament. Now, six years later, Ken is a celebrity fighter taking on publicized stunt fights while Ryu is in hiding due to being sought out by Akuma, played by Joe "Roman Reigns" Anoa'i. After M. Bison, played by David Dastmalchian ("The Suicide Squad," "Murderbot"), declares a new World Warrior tournament in the hopes of luring Ryu out of hiding, the friends reunite and team up with Chun-Li, played by Callina Liang ("Tell Me Everything," "Presence"), to stop him from stealing Ryu's power.

When it comes to bringing the world of "Street Fighter" to life, that's the one aspect of co-writer/director Kitao Sakurai's ("Bad Trip," "The Eric Andre Show") new film that is undoubtedly a knockout. It seems as though virtually every cent of the budget was spent on building the world up with elaborate practical sets and costumes, and it shows. The film bursts with color in every scene, and neon purples and reds pop off the screen with reckless abandon. Cinematographer Ken Seng ("Deadpool," "Terminator: Dark Fate") frames the fights clearly, keeping the over-the-top action at the center as it dances back and forth around the environments. It completely nails the aesthetic and feeling of the games, right down to showcasing any flashbacks using hand-drawn anime style sequences from Titmouse Inc. Even the score from composers Leo Birenberg ("Weird: The Al Yankovic Story," " Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man") and Zach Robinson ("Weird: The Al Yankovic Story," " Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man") is above average, with chunky electronic retro beats mixed with some somber strings. 

Sakurai's cast does a mostly good job keeping things together with a campy tone, but the mileage between each member varies wildly. Centineo has surprisingly good chemistry with Koji, and the pair are at their best when they're on screen together. Koji is more serious than one might expect, but it works opposite the wackier elements of the world. Dastmalchian is cheesy, but wavers between being miscast and the best part of the film. Liang, like Koji, is more serious than the plot around her, but it works less with her story than it does with Koji. The supporting cast mostly consists of wrestlers turned actors hamming it up, and things are fine enough on that front. No one is expecting an Oscar winning performance from Cody Rhodes as Guile. Andrew Schulz ("Benders," "Tires") and Eric André ("Man Seeking Woman," "Disenchantment") also appear as Ken's manager Dan Hibiki and fighting announcer Don Sauvage, respectively. Schulz plays the slimy manager role well and is a decent highlight, while Andre appears, does his loud and obnoxious thing, and then disappears from the film.

If the sets look great, and the actors are decent, then it stands to reason sitting at the bottom of that pile is the script. Unfortunately, co-writers Sakurai, T.J. Fixman ("Carry On," "Ratchet and Clank (2016)"), Dalan Musson ("Iron Sky: The Coming Race," "Captain America: Brave New World"), and Gary Dauberman ("IT (2017)," "Until Dawn (2025)") have packed as much into the film as possible with little success. Anything with Ken and Ryu's brotherhood is engaging, but the rest is a mishmash of overly explained plot points, underdeveloped characters, or confusing moments. Why, in a movie about fighting, are so many of the tournament fights off screen? Characters go from being kidnapped to free to kidnapped again within a matter of moments, and characters vanish as soon as they can't be used for punching bags. It feels like three different drafts of the script were thrown into a blender and spat onto the screen. It also has an obnoxious, frat bro sense of humor that permeates the entire film. There are jokes that are amusing, but it's mostly a lot of cursing and jokes that feel ripped right out of a 2003 high school comedy. 

If you watched it on mute, there's a lot to enjoy about "Street Fighter." That mostly comes down to its cast embodying the characters well, and every visual aspect firing on all cylinders. You might miss the fun musical score, but you'd at least be saved from an incredibly poor script and maddening plot. It runs right through you with its blistering colors and nonsense events, leaving you feeling like you're the one who just got beaten into oblivion. While it certainly is goofy and gamey, it's hard to call this a film that knows what it is. Because it thinks it's cool. It wants to be cool. It isn't. 2/5 

Whalefall - Review: The Belly of the Beast

 

Crack open any English textbook, flip through the pages, and at some point you'll find a series of classic storytelling conflicts: "man versus self," "man versus man," "man versus nature," etc. One could also call the latter of those conflicts "man versus animal," as there have been plenty of stories over hundreds of years that specifically pit a protagonist against one specific creature instead of their entire ecosystem. Author and co-screenwriter Daniel Kraus took that idea quite literally when writing his 2023 novel "Whalefall," now being adapted into a film sharing the name by co-screenwriter/director Brian Duffield ("Spontaneous," "No One Will Save You").

One year after the death of his father Mitt Gardiner, played by Josh Brolin ("Avengers: Infinity War," "The Goonies"), Jay Gardiner, played by Austin Abrams ("Resident Evil (2026)," "Weapons"), returns to his seaside California hometown. Determined to put their contentious relationship to rest, Jay decides to dive to the bottom of the ocean to find his father's remains for his mother and sisters to bury. However, while diving, Jay becomes caught in a struggle between a giant squid and a sperm whale, resulting in him being swallowed by the whale. Now with only one hour of oxygen, Jay must use his father's lessons and his own skills to escape the whale and return home.

There's a term in television for an episode that takes place almost entirely in one location, normally to save on budget, and that's a "bottle episode." While "bottle movies" certainly do exist, "Whalefall" isn't one made for the purpose of saving budget. The $60 million price tag is on full display for the entire runtime, with every squishy noise to every slimy visual. It really is a terrifying, claustrophobic visual feast of a film, with a near perfect mixture of physical and digital effects. It overwhelms you with sensations, completely captivating you from the moment Jay is swallowed to the very end of the film.

Composer Joseph Trapanese ("No One Will Save You," "The Witcher (2021)") incredibly somber score provides an antidote to the more tense and suspenseful moments, and Cinematographer Aaron Morton ("The First Omen," "Orphan Black") gets a surprising amount of mileage out of the confined spaces and sharp close ups. His look makes sure things don't get too samey by the time things are over, and the heavy use of bioluminescent lighting and glow gives everything a blue tint that works to alienate Jay. For as isolating of a film as this is, Abrams really gives his all in such a singular performance. It's a role of few words, but his physicality is what sells everything. Riding the line between a competent hero and a weak everyman, it's inarguably the most intense of his downtrodden roles yet and also inarguably the most viscerally thrilling. Brolin is turning in some work that's better than the cliched role he's been written, but he's nevertheless an arresting presence when on screen. His gruff voice also lends itself well to a heavy amount of voiceover work towards the film's conclusion that further builds up the character.

The film's script is arguably its weakest element. While Kraus and Duffield walk the tightrope between having too much or too little of Jay talking to himself within the whale, it's the flashbacks that suffer the most. It's a blue-collar kind of script, one that gets the job done before and after the film's central premise, setting up motivations and payoffs well. Those flashbacks bolsters its themes, but they're riddled with cliche. While not inherently a bad thing at all, it's the sort of film where, if you've seen one "son and dad have a strenuous relationship" plot, you've seen this one as well. It's a wonder the internal solo work with Jay works so well, and when the third act kicks off and things get very weird, Duffield and Kraus seemingly lock in and deliver material far better than a premise like this might deserve.

The embracing of its goofiness and weirdness really kicks off in the third act, and that's when the film truly shines. It's where Brolin's voice over is at its best, when Abrams threads the needle between emotion and physicality, and when Duffield decides to take everything about the film's premise so deathly serious that it becomes admirable. Almost despite itself, it becomes a moving film by the end. It's a wonderful example of a work taking itself so seriously that it breaks through the barrier of its B-movie genre to become a genuinely thrilling piece of work by the end.

That's where "Whalefall" lands by the end of things. Somehow, given the absurdity of its premise and thanks to the commitment of its lead and a fantastic mixture of technical and practical effects, this ends up being an effective thriller. Just about 100 minutes is spent telling Jay's story, and it's a thrilling time, more serious and engrossing than its summary might suggest. 4/5

You Can See Everything - Review: Can You See Everything?

 

Elizabeth Holmes is a woman most famous for founding a company with the goal of creating a household device that could run thousands of tests from one drop of blood. Nathan Fielder ("The Rehearsal," "The Curse") is a comedian and filmmaker most famous for creating elaborate schemes to help everyone from small business owners to airline pilots to himself overcome struggles in their everyday lives. Both are con artists, experts at tricking the public and others into seeing what they want them to see. But while Fielder does so for entertainment purposes on Comedy Central or HBO, Holmes defrauded investors and the public to the amount of around $700 million and was eventually sentenced to eleven years in federal prison for doing so.

Then, why in the world would she and her partner Billy Evans invite someone like Fielder into their home? Not only is he a comedian, not a documentarian, but he is well known for being abrasive and awkward in his material, purposefully putting people off to try and elicit something different out of them. Perhaps Holmes and Evans thought they could manipulate him more easily than a typical documentary filmmaker? Perhaps they gravitated towards his awkward stylings? Perhaps they just simply didn't know who they were getting involved with?

Those questions are where the film starts. And they aren't even remotely close to where the film ends. This is an enigma of a project, virtually impossible to talk about in normal terms because it regularly doesn't feel like a normal documentary or even a normal film. There's an air of awkwardness and intrigue to every moment. You're peeking around every corner, leaning forward, waiting for some new revelation or oddity to be shown. But that's the oddest thing: virtually nothing shown here is particularly revelatory when it comes to what is already known about Holmes and her company Theranos. If you're coming here to see more nitty gritty information about how she fooled everyone, then you're likely to be left disappointed. But a large part of why there aren't any further revelations to her deception is because she seems to not believe she did deceive anyone.

Unless she really did? Is her belief that she did not deceive deceit in itself as well? Most fascinatingly, Fielder and his co-director Lance Oppenheim ("Primetime," "Some Kind of Heaven") seem content to let Fielder become a part of Holmes and Evans' lives to interrogate their own natures. But that results in a documentary, the very type of film that purports itself to be about the truth, to turn into a far more manipulated piece of filmmaking than one might intend. Whether intentionally or otherwise, Fielder's growing relationship with Holmes and Evans turns this from a project into genuine emotional concern he has for these people. And as things go on and his own feelings begin to turn and become stronger, the line between objective documentary filmmaking begins to blur. If Fielder wasn't there, things surely would not have turned out like they did, would they? As Holmes tells Fielder partway through the film, "You can see everything." But the word "can" is the most interesting part of that statement.

It would be easy to think that this is nothing more than an interesting hook for the film to hang its hat on, but it quickly and clearly becomes more than that. Instead of some bombshell moment, the film ends on a recreation of an event that we are not able to see happen in real time. We are relying on a reenactment based on the recounting of someone emotionally involved in this situation. Therefore, we have to wade through multiple layers of potential bias: the bias brought by the actors doing the reenacting, the person writing the project, the memory of that person, as well as the decisions made by the filmmakers shooting the project, all of that either unconscious or not. The complicated nature of all of that, whether in reenactments or the real footage, seems to be the point of Fielder's exercise with this project.

He's picked one of the most famously manipulative people currently living to make a documentary on the nature of manipulation, making you question if you can really trust his own project as remotely objective. The crowning achievement of the film may very well be that, within all of these questions, Fielder and Oppenheim never forget that these are real people we're following. Holmes might be manipulative, but she is a real person. The team takes care to make sure that always comes across, but never letting it apologize for her past or present actions. For all the film's questions about truth, it's remarkably empathetic to everyone on screen.

In terms of the film's technical merits, the 4:3 shooting style makes for a claustrophobic image that frames each interaction and person with a voyeuristic atmosphere. Oppenheim is behind the camera almost entirely, working with cinematographer David Bolen ("Primetime," "Thelma") and composer Ari Balouzian ("Primetime," "Some Kind of Heaven") to set up the film's specific atmosphere. It isn't a sinister film in terms of material, and it's actually quite funny when it leans into Fielder's deadpan nature and the general absurdity of what's going on. But things still feel uneasy and bizarre, mostly down to the film's central idea of truth and trust and who's playing who.

So often the film throws objectivity out the window, if it existed at all, and it becomes a fever dream. Not in terms of how it's shot or any kind of psychedelic visuals, but rather in what it wants you to question. Fielder and Oppenheim have created a documentary that could only exist right now. Not because of its subject, but because of the way it presents truth, subjectivity, objectivity, and emotion in our modern day. Can we ever be truly objective? Is it possible when we're alone with someone or surrounded by multiple cameras and multi-million dollar backing? Is it a bad thing if we aren't? If you're on board with Fielder's style, this is the most serious project he's ever worked on but still packed with the deadpan weirdness that he's made a trademark. Is it good? Is it bad? It's hard to say. It is undeniably fascinating. You can see everything. But can you actually?

Other Mommy - Review: Are You My Mother?

 

What’s in a name? Well, a name as silly as “Other Mommy” can do wonders for a film’s marketing campaign. When you pair a title like that with a well edited trailer playing before one of the biggest box office hits of the year, you have a recipe for the kind of buzz any studio would kill for. So, if nothing else, director Rob Savage’s (“Dashcam,” “The Boogeyman”) latest horror film has plenty of eyes on it regardless of any level of quality. If it’s actually good, then things could be even better.

“Other Mommy” follows 7-year-old Bela Martin, played by Arabella Olivia Clark, as she attempts to adjust to her new life and school. Her father Russell, played by Jay Duplass (“Transparent,” “Dying for Sex”) is a stay-at-home dad and her mother Ursula, played by Jessica Chastain (“Interstellar,” “Zero Dark Thirty”), is consumed by her corporate job. So, Bela decides to befriend a shadowy shapeshifting creature that lives in her bathroom who she calls Other Mommy, played by Chastain, who soon turns quite sinister as she attempts to invade Bela’s family so that she can “live inside her heart.”

Adapting from the book “Incidents Around the House” by Josh Malerman, screenwriter Nathan Elston hits the ground running and throws us directly into Bela’s difficult circumstances. There’s just enough familial drama going on to keep things engaging, and the brisk pace helps keep things feeling lively. For as quick as things are, at a runtime of just barely over 90-minutes, the film never sticks to even its own sense of internal logic. The rules by which Other Mommy seems to abide by are never consistent, but things shift from set piece to set piece so quickly that you’ll hardly notice. There are some admirable attempts to mix things up, such as the genuine childlike perspective and the lack of any explanation as to what Other Mommy is, but most of the script is material made to move from one scare to the next.

Chastain is certainly having a lot of fun here, and while the material might not be solid gold, she’s committing to the madness of it all admirably. She really gets to go off the rails as Other Mommy though, and that's where she gets to shine. Duplass is fun as the overwhelmed dad caught in the middle of all of this, and the family dynamic is really one of the film’s best aspects. Clark is surprisingly effective with the material. She delivers a genuinely good performance, especially given her age, and it makes the third act work wonders.

That third act is a perfect example of what the film does well: when it leans into the imaginative and childlike nature of things. This is still a rated-r horror film, so there’s plenty of blood and language, but the best aspects are when Savage zeroes in on the fact that this story is from the perspective of a young child. It embraces the nightmare versions of these events, and even the sillier aspects as well. Things still make little to no sense half of the time, but it at least makes no sense while embracing itself and the look. Cinematographer Lowell A. Meyer (“Knock at the Cabin,” “Greener Grass”) gets a lot of mileage out of twisty upside-down angles and reverse shots, and it's effective. Really the entire film could be summarized as incredibly derivative, but effective and entertaining.

“Other Mommy” isn’t the next massive Blumhouse cult hit, nor is it unwatchable slop either. This is a very middle of the road and derivative horror flick that benefits wildly from a committed cast and concept. Anyone going in expecting anything close to coherent logic or a deeply crafted script should leave their expectations at the door. This is a silly kind of horror film, the kind that almost wants you to be a kid again. A kid that can handle dismemberment, blood, and cursing that is. 3/5

The Social Reckoning - Review: To Be Reckoned With

 

In 2011, they made a movie about Facebook. “The Social Network” became one of the most acclaimed films of the year, grossed $225 million, was nominated for eight Academy Awards including Best Picture, and won three, including Best Adapted Screenplay and giving Aaron Sorkin (“The West Wing,” “A Few Good Men”) his first and at this time only Oscar win. The film’s esteem has only grown in the years since, now becoming one of the most beloved films of the 2010s. Given everything that’s happened with the social media/tech juggernaut in the following years, it only makes sense that Sorkin, now directing as well as writing, would want to take another swing at Zuckerberg and his website. Hence “The Social Reckoning,” a semi-sequel/follow-up that seeks to reexamine Facebook’s place in our lives and judicial system since the 2011 hit.

Set in 2019, the film follows Facebook data engineer Frances Haugen, played by Mikey Madison (“Anora,” “Scream (2022)”), who approaches Wall Street Journal reporter Jeff Horwitz, played by Jeremy Allen White (“The Bear,” “The Iron Claw”), to help her break the story that Facebook was aware of harmful societal effects from its platforms, and chose to prioritize their profit over addressing them. Meanwhile in 2021, Mark Zuckerberg, played by Jeremy Strong (“Succession,” “The Trial of the Chicago 7”), butts heads with his crisis management specialist Raya, played by Wunmi Mosaku (“Sinners,” “Loki”), and a former investor and member of his legal counsel Charlie Garrigan, played by Bill Burr (“The King of Staten Island,” “F is for Family”), over how to handle testifying before the U.S. Senate on Facebook’s effects on the world.

It’s not hard to see why Sorkin would want to return to this well. Not only is the original film likely his most well-known and acclaimed work, but since its release, he’s pivoted mostly to making films about true events, instead of fabricated ones. His writing comes across as far more forced than ever before though. Sure, it still has his trademark rapid fire dialogue and pop culture jabs. But things feel more transparently performative this time. Sorkin has clearly always been a nerd at heart, but this film is truly written like he’s trying to get back at someone, rather than present a genuinely compelling scenario. While Sorkin has also had issues with writing women in the past, numerous scenes here also stand out as being bizarrely sexist. Worst of all, these lines and moments serve no purpose in the actual narrative, instead existing for... seemingly just no reason. Somehow, despite the script's weak elements, the film doesn’t drag, pacing itself well enough to get through its two hour length without much downtime. 

Madison and White are good here, doing a lot with a weak script. Madison is clearly the film’s stand out, and each moment she spends on screen is injected with little moments that build Frances out as an unlikely heroine. She’s a compelling character, and while the script may falter, Madison’s performance never does. White is less successful mostly because the character is less interesting, but he’s still good in the role. He’s the film’s moral center and spends much of his time standing around as Madison explains technical terms and algorithms to him. It’s not a bad role, but it's almost cartoonish in how cliched it feels. Strong is the most fun to watch mostly because he’s the one doing the most acting in teh whole film. His voice and mannerisms for Zuckerberg may or may not be accurate, but he’s always the most interesting person on screen when he appears. Burr is an unexpected highlight, as he drops in like an acidic guardian angel to lecture Zuckerberg in some of the film’s better dialogue, and Mosaku is good but painfully underutilized by the film’s end.

The film has a painfully flat and grey look to everything, sapping much of the events of any sense of distinction or color. Cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth (“Gone Girl,” “Fight Club”) returns from the previous film, and he does the best he can with Sorkin’s direction, but it's a very static movie. So many scenes take place inside buildings and offices where only important characters exist. A few scenes outdoors in Puerto Rico with background cast not only come alive in terms of color, but in terms of warmth and liveliness. A movie inherently being cold isn’t a bad thing; the bad thing is that this coldness feels like a byproduct rather than anything intentional. Alexandre Desplat’s (“The Grand Budapest Hotel,” “Fantastic Mr. Fox”) score can’t hold a candle to Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’s work on the first film, but it stands on its own as a good mixture of warm human instruments and electronica beats.

It’s obvious that Sorkin wants this film to be in the vein of movies like “All the President’s Men,” but he’s failed to capture any sense of warmth or humanity that those films have. Instead, things are routinely scenes of people explaining statistics to other people, having the dramatic tension hinge on percentages and numbers. That’s not a bad way to make a film, and there are plenty of examples of excellent movies built around those ideas. The problem is Sorkin’s direction leaves everyone feeling more like standees made to recite numbers rather than people. It just feels like a film where all of its worst aspects are due to Sorkin’s control, like everyone was afraid of the prospect of telling him no. It’s a film with too much scope and yet not enough going on, and the third act climax builds to a real-life event that is quite baffling to have in a mainstream Hollywood film like this.

On paper, everything about this film makes sense. Sure, the original actor for Zuckerberg declined to return, as did the original film’s director, but those are minor bumps in the road. Well, apparently not, as the resulting film ends up being far blander than it should. Even at his worst, Sorkin manages to be somewhat inflammatory. Here, it’s as if he wants to make a film for everyone... about politics and social media and the divide they’ve created. The musical score is good, it’s paced well enough, and the actors are clearly talented and doing the best they can with what they’re given. But when all a film like this, that clearly wants to say something and be important, can muster is a blasé feeling of indifference, something has gone truly wrong. 2/5

Digger - Review: Burning Down the House

 

It’s hard to know where to even begin with a film like “Digger.” The decade long passion project of co-writer/director Alejandro G. Iñárritu (“Birdman,” “The Revenant”), the return to more “serious” dramatic acting for Tom Cruise (“Top Gun,” “Mission: Impossible (1996)”) after decades of blockbuster action work, the last film developed by executives Michael De Luca and Pamela Abdy’s auteur driven push at Warner Bros., and the last film ever release by Warner Bros. Before they got gobbled up by Paramount and Skydance. Suffice it to say, “Digger” is unlike any other big-budget blockbuster film you’ve seen in recent years, if ever. And that’s not just because of the production behind it. The real question remains: that’s a fun list of facts behind its making, but is the film any good?

The film follows Digger Rockwell, played by Cruise, an aged oil magnate whose latest drilling operation off the coast of Greenland sets off an explosion that causes an ice shelf the size of Maryland to break off and head directly for coastal Europe. The disaster means that Digger must enlist in the help of his head of environmental safety and security Dr. Nirav Ganesh, played by Riz Ahmed (“Sound of Metal,” “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story”) and the United States President Compson, played by John Goodman (“The Big Lebowski,” “Roseanne”), to tackles the fallout head on. And things only get weirder from there.

“Digger” is a film virtually impossible to discuss without spoiling major elements, something seemingly bizarre given its relatively straightforward nature. While this will be a spoiler-free review, suffice it to say that there’s a lot going on here and one development in particular that will divide audiences almost immediately. It’ll work for some people, it won’t for others. It’s a daring twist that makes the film’s satirical edge much sharper than it otherwise would be and results in a type of story that hasn’t really been attempted on this scale before.

Cruise absolutely runs away with the movie, turning in a truly fantastic and audacious kind of performance. It’s the best he’s been since at least “Collateral” if not “Magnolia.” If Cruise has been said to embrace every stunt like it's the last thing he’ll ever do, then he takes the same approach with the character of Digger. Ahmed is also excellent, embracing the larger-than-life material and turning in a performance opposite Cruise that’s unlike anything the actor has tackled before. He’s just a lot of fun to watch navigate this material, and any scene with him and Cruise is feels like a kind of maddening magic. Goodman is good, but he’s chewing so much scenery he threatens to derail the entire production. It’s an understandable interpretation given the material, but whereas Cruise and Ahmed manage to be real people despite the extravagance, Goodman is a cartoon even as much as he is entertaining.

The supporting cast all vary in different ways and for vastly different reasons too. Sandra Hüller (“Anatomy of a Fall,” “Project Hail Mary”) plays Digger’s sister Emma and while she is great when she appears, she’s also vastly underutilized. Most of the other supporting actors also fall into a trap of cartoonish bumbling, without any real substance to their performances. The exception is Jesse Plemmons (“Game Night,” “Bugonia”), who makes a brief appearance as Kenny. He injects a different kind of seriousness into the events that not only helps to set up the actual central idea of the film, but is a breath of fresh air in the surrounding madness of the rest of the film and characters.

There’s a lot to like with the film’s production as well. The sets and overall look are daunting and surreal, bending slightly to the reality of the story in interesting ways. Everything feels heightened at all times, as if the idea of even one moment being grounded would result in the cameras exploding. It's a deliberate choice that further enhances the maddening cartoonish tone the runs throughout most of the film, shot with a keen and fantastic eye by Emmanuel Lubezki (“Birdman,” “Children of Men”). Virtually every element of the physical production is astonishing and near perfect. The musical score that backs things up is certainly unique as well, with Cosmo Sheldrake composing his first film score that alternates between actual music and rhythmic background sounds, like water droplets and machinery.

Now, a film like this is clearly trying to say something. That much is obvious from the subject matter, marketing, people involved, etc. What it's trying to say seems a bit confused, both from the film itself and the results of said message. There’s a lot here about the nature of satire, of pointing and laughing at something in lieu of actually doing anything about it. There’s also a lot being said about if that is beneficial just by the collective exhale that can be had by doing such. There’s a lot said and yet Iñárritu and his co-writers Alexander Dinelaris Jr. (“Birdman,” “The Revenant”), Nicolás Giacobone (“Birdman,” “Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths”), and Sabina Berman (“Gloria,” “Backyard”) seem to not know where they want to land. That’s not necessarily an issue, but for a film making this kind of a statement, landing in the middle can’t help but feel deflating.

The script and dialogue itself ping pongs back and forth between being cartoonishly overdone and remarkably insightful. Given that it seems to mirror the performances in that way, one might even wonder if that was intentional. Is it supposed to be both blithering overblown and introspective to the nanometer at the same time? This sense of tonal whiplash creates a work where you really don’t know what to expect from moment to moment. This, combined with Cruise’s energy and the look of the film, makes for a movie that, for all its faults, manages to be just relentlessly entertaining. Whether it’s pure bewilderment or genuine enjoyment, it’s a film that’s hard to look away from, and Cruise seems determined to make you have a good time through his sheer movie star willpower. Then the ending hits and it's as if the entire film’s undecided ice cream sundae of ideas gets a big old rotten cherry on top in the form of a, pardon my French, fucking bleak ending that leaves you sitting with a blank stare, mouth agape.

“Digger” will likely appeal to many based purely on its nature of being a completely different film that what anyone has made recently. Led by a commanding and fantastic lead performance from Cruise, a great supporting role from Ahmed, and a gorgeous physical production, this is a film that leaves you flabbergasted. It’s certainly something new, something entertaining, and something with... something to say. How well that will all go over with you is a person by person matter though. Alejandro G. Iñárritu has certainly dug himself quite the hole here. Whether or not you want to see it through and help him out of it is your decision. 3.5/5

Verity - Review: Pulp Fiction

 

Colleen Hoover might just be the best thing to happen to the entertainment world since Stephanie Meyer. Formerly self-published, her books have rocketed into the stratosphere of the literary world, and in just three years she’s received four film adaptations of her works: “It Ends with Us,” “Regretting You,” and “Reminders of Him” have already grossed over half a billion dollars against budgets that total around $75 million. This latest adaptation promises to be the darkest and most seductive yet with her take on a sexy thriller with “Verity.”

The film follows Lowen Ashleigh, played by Dakota Johnson (“Fifty Shades of Grey,” “Materialists”), a small-time fiction writer living in New York City. She’s approached by a publishing company with the offer of a lifetime: to ghostwrite the latest novel by world famous bestselling thriller author Verity Crawford, played by Anne Hathaway (“The Devil Wears Prada,” “The Princess Diaries”). Lowen is hired by Verity’s husband Jeremy, played by Josh Hartnett (“Penny Dreadful,” “Trap”), and invited to their lakeside home to stay and research Verity’s notes, which is where she learns that Verity has been paralyzed in a car accident, unable to speak or move for the foreseeable future. While staying at the house, Lowen believes something sinister might be going on, and begins to question if Verity herself is all that she appears to be.

It’s a tight concept, and one that has worked for decades in cinema. You get a cast of sexy actors together, let them brood it out and have banter, and then end things with a crescendo. However, screenwriter Nick Antosca (“Channel Zero,” “Brand New Cherry Flavor”) just doesn’t fill the movie with enough interesting goings on to keep anyone's attention for long. There are long stretches of the film where seemingly nothing significant happens and its, quite frankly, just boring. There definitely are major developments, but they all come in the last fifteen minutes, leaving no time to actually explore them. The plentiful sex scenes don’t help either as most just boil down to awkward moments of faux sexiness. Smeared cupcake on someone’s face certainly could be sexy, but not the way it’s presented here. The dialogue suffers as well, with a lot of odd bits that come across like a first draft or a teenager's idea of layered material.

The film’s director Michael Showalter (“The Big Sick,” “The Lovebirds”) isn’t helping much either. While his background in comedy is extensive, it simply doesn’t translate here. The moments that should be cheesier or campier are never leaned into in the way that they need, resulting in a film that feels flaccid for virtually anything it tries to do. And it certainly tries to do quite a bit, with twists right up until the last shot. It’s not a complete mess, as there are scenes of tension that work well, and the mystery is interesting enough to hold attention. But, like the script, large swaths of the film simply feel cold and boring.

Johnson certainly isn’t the most emotive actress in the world, but she’s turned in some fine work in other films before. However, her more prosaic personality is the exact opposite of what the film needs from its lead. She’s just cold and flat, failing to garner much attention for any length of the film. Hartnett fares much better, mostly due to him playing up his emotions in many later scenes. Hathaway steals the show, despite her considerably limited role. It speaks to her ability to captivate that she is the most interesting person on screen despite not being able to move or emote for large chunks of the film. Her flashback sequences and narration are the highlight, managing to inject enough energy and intrigue into the film to prevent the viewer from nodding off.

If a sexy thriller is what you want, then “Verity” technically delivers in that it is a film that calls itself a sexy thriller. But it also feels like every other film of that ilk, with a high dose of valium snuck in the middle. It’s competently made, and fans of this genre should have a fine enough time thanks to Hartnett and Hathaway doing their damndest to lift the project up. But there are also far too many better examples of this genre to feel satisfied with this kind of dime store pulp story. 1.5/5