The Holdovers - Review: Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime

 

Alexander Payne (“Election,” “Nebraska”) has made a career out of putting curmudgeonly characters in difficult and uncomfortable situations. Now, he’s turned back the clock to the 1970s and bringing snow down upon the New England regions to give its boarding school students a very merry (and for some unmerry) Christmas with “The Holdovers”. 

The film follows strict classical studies professor Paul Hunham, played by Paul Giamatti (“Sideways,” “Win Win”), who is forced to look after the students who have held over, i.e. not gone home for the winter break, at the boarding school where he teaches. Through a comical series of events, this results in him watching after just one student, Angus Tully, played in by Dominic Sessa in his debut film, alongside the school’s cafeteria manager Mary Lamb, played by Da'Vine Joy Randolph (“Dolemite is My Name,” “The United States vs. Billie Holliday”). 

Each of the three main cast members plays off the other expertly, really selling the idea that these are a gaggle of misfits forced to spend time together and only then slowly growing to care for one another. Giamatti is absolute perfection, giving a note perfect performance that balances the uppity snooty side of his dramatic roles with his excellent comedic talents. Sessa handedly holds his own against his fellow far more experienced actors and is the heart of the movie itself. He’s also just perfect. Randolph is heart breaking and fantastic, just as funny as Giamatti and Sessa and, like them, also just perfect. 

Payne makes full use of the chunky grain field of his photography and the time period and delivers an experience that doesn’t feel like a movie emulating the 1970s, but rather one that was simply sliced out and plucked from the era, dropped into out 21st century laps. The fuzz of it all, as well as the crackle of the sound and the period appropriate production design almost glows with a warmth and light all its own, as if everything had a string of Christmas lights wound up inside of it. 

While there are plenty of laughs here, Payne and screenwriter David Hemingson (“American Dad,” “Just Shoot Me!”) also mine the proceedings for some introspection and deep emotions, reflecting both on the inner lives of the characters and the place of academia and “higher” education in the lives of people. It’s somewhat surprising how effortlessly the film manages to critique the difference between highly educated people and those who aren’t and how the differing groups hold opinions of each other. All of this somehow not only works, but it never feels forced or brings down the holiday mood. 

There’s just something about the feeling that the film exudes that makes it such a source of pure holiday warmth and joy. Maybe it’s the welcoming feel of its cinematography from Eigil Bryld (“Ocean’s 8,” “In Bruges”). Maybe it’s the musical score, a source of quaint and fun delight, by Mark Orton (“Nebraska,” “The Good Girl”). Maybe it's just a bit of Christmas magic that makes everything feel as perfect as can be, making you smile despite the tears and laugh despite the pain. It’s an almost indescribable holiday miracle of a movie. 

What Payne has managed to do with “The Holdovers” is the kind of film that one could best describe as simply perfect. It might seem like hyperbole or like too little description. But truly, in every fiber of its construction and craft, in each performance, in each note of musical score and speck of grain on screen, it's as if it all has come together to just give you a big warm holiday hug. It’s something truly special and audacious, a modern holiday classic that will be revisited come the winter months for years and years to come. 5/5

Priscilla - Review: The King's Queen Finally Gets to Tell Her Story

 

In the pantheon of America musicians and pop culture in general, Elvis is one of the largest, most imitated, and most renowned figures in the world. There is plenty of merit to that as Elvis did, obviously, have a massive impact on the world of music as a whole. However, there are also plenty of sleazy and inappropriate things about the King, some worse than others. Now writer/director Sofia Coppola (“Lost in Translation,” “The Virgin Suicides”) has crafted a film to deconstruct the myth of Elvis using his first wife and fashion icon Priscilla. 

The film follows Priscilla, played by Cailee Spaeny (“The Craft: Legacy,” “Mare of Easttown”), meeting Elvis, played by Jacob Elordi (“euphoria,” “The Kissing Booth”), at the age of 14. Elvis, then 24, begins to romantically pursue Priscilla and the film traces their relationship from 1960 to 1973, following Priscilla moving to Graceland, finishing school, their eventual marriage, the birth of Lisa Marie Presley, and their eventual divorce. 

Coppola’s typical warm, unfiltered, hazy look fits the space the film occupies very well. Each shot has a slight fuzz to it, as if vaseline is smeared ever so slightly across the lens. It perfectly captures the time period, from the general look and feel down to the immaculate costuming and hairstyling. Cinematographer Philippe Le Sourd (“The Beguiled (2017),” “Seven Pounds”) frames it all in a very specific way, combining that haze and period aesthetics to create an ethereal, dreamlike film that helps to communicate Priscilla herself throughout the events. 

Spaeny is absolutely perfect, meandering between the childlike perspectives of her youth and the forced maturity she’s required to gain in this situation. She’s gorgeous and makes these moments come alive. Her chemistry with Elordi is fantastic as well, which makes the moments of horror within his Elvis’ behavior that much worse. He also plays the King fantastically well, keeping the energy up when needed while also toning it down during the more reserved moments, making it clear that it is, indeed, the same person in different modes. 

His performance is a fantastic way to look at the film itself compared to another recent Elvis related film. Whereas that one film is exceptionally bombastic and overblown, “Priscilla” takes a very subdued approach that allows you to get inside its protagonist’s headspace and really inhabit how she feels. It's boosted by the aforementioned dreamlike atmosphere and a phenomenal musical score from the bands Pheonix and Sons of Raphael. 

This more atmospheric approach does lead to an aspect that might leave some wanting. The movie doesn’t really have a strict three act structure, instead going for a more experiential format. It works to get you into Priscilla’s emotions and headspace and world, but does mean that the film doesn’t really build tension. It leads to a fascinatingly good performance and general vibe but means the overall story could be perceived as lacking due to that missing aspect. 

Coppola’s best films go for that kind of dreamlike angle, and “Priscilla” is no different, expressing a desire to communicate her headspace and feelings rather than summarize her life into a strict three act structure. Spaeny is absolutely fantastic, as is Elordi, and the entire film nails the technical and atmospheric aspects of the time periods. Its unconventional narrative structure might be frustrating for most, but for a film named after her, the most important thing is that it communicates who Priscilla Presley is, where she came from, and what she was feeling. And in those aspects, it's a resounding success. 4/5

Five Nights At Freddy's - Review: Only Stay As Long As You Need To

 

An almost accidental overnight success, the original Five Nights at Freddy’s game released in 2014 to virtually universal acclaim due to the distinctive vibe and approach to a horror video game. What followed was multiple sequels, fan games, novels, comics, theories, imitators, and spinoff games. Now, as with all massive media franchises, we have a film adaptation as the series is just shy of its tenth anniversary.

Set in the early 2000s, the film follows Mike, played by Josh Hutcherson (“The Hunger Games,” “The Kids are All Right”), a down on his luck guy trying to look after and keep custody of his younger sister Abby, played by Piper Rubio. After getting fired from his latest job, he receives a call from his career counselor Steve, played by Matthew Lillard (“Scooby-Doo (2002),” “Scream (1996)”). A local pizzeria and family entertainment center that has long since been closed down is looking for a security guard to watch the building at night to prevent any troublemakers from getting in to ransack the place. Mike takes the job, and therefore must spend his nights at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.

This is an admittedly simple premise, but anyone remotely familiar with the games knows just how convoluted things eventually get. Thankfully, the film’s screenwriters, which includes the franchise’s original creator Scott Cawthon, the film’s director Emma Tammi (“The Wind,” “Fair Chase”), along with Chris Lee Hill (“Tragedy Girls,” “Blowing Up Right Now”), Tyler MacIntyre (“Tragedy Girls,” “Patchwork”), and Seth Cuddeback (“Mateo”) make sure that the sense of convoluted mayhem remains in the film. It definitely requires some suspension of disbelief, but the movie is constantly reveling in the absurdity of it all. It takes itself just as seriously as it needs to not become a parody film, and no more.

Hutcherson does a pretty good job with the material he’s given. He’s committed to the kind of scream queen-esque, full body sweat physicality required and also throws himself headfirst into the movie’s more absurd elements. Rubio is also pretty good, smiling and looking adorable as a young child character in a horror film should. Lillard is practically tearing up the scenery when he’s on screen and it’s a complete delight to watch him gleefully play this kind of a role. Also in the main cast is Elizabeth Lail (“You,” “Mack & Rita”) as Vanessa, a police officer who befriends Mike and hangs around Freddy’s. She’s charming enough but isn’t particularly memorable.

That’s a problem with most of the film. When the titular Freddy and his friends are onscreen, it’s a cheesy delight. When Mike, Abby, Vanessa, or Steve are, it’s still a lot of fun. When basically any other characters are, it can become quite a drag. This isn’t a very long film, but it’s a movie that simply just isn’t as interesting when it’s trying to build a backstory to Mike and the rest of the characters that takes them away from Freddy’s. Those moments are serviceable, but not memorable. Tonally, the film is also wildly inconsistent, with moments of scares and horror followed up with segments that feel out of a Saturday morning cartoon show. It creates a weird kind of dichotomy that’s somewhat endearing while still jarring.

If ever there was a film that spent its budget in the right place though, it’s here. The animatronics, crafted by Jim Henson’s Creature Workshop, are phenomenal looking. Not only do they truly bring Freddy, Chica, Bonnie, and Foxy to life, but they feel like they never have before. It’s one thing to see these robotic animals in a video game where anything can happen. But the film grounds them to the rules of reality that makes them both that much more fascinating and also terrifying.

“Five Night’s At Freddy’s” is a film marketed as being “for the fans” and while that can help get butts in seats and boost the box office, it can’t apologize for quality. There are plenty of movies made “for the fans” that still manage to be objectively great as well. “Freddy’s” has some stark tonal shifts, pacing, lackluster backstory, and some weaker acting from some of its cast. When it hits, it hits particularly strongly and in a fun and cheesy way. When it doesn’t, it can really drag. There’s fun to be had here, but maybe not five nights worth. 3/5

Nyad - Review: An Undemanding Tale of a Demanding Trek

 

In the world of sports/inspirational films, on their most basic level, there are two distinct types of those films: documentaries and fictionalized movies. Both types of films require a deft hand as the techniques for making them are quite different. So, when a director makes the leap from one type to the next, it can have wildly varying degrees of success. Now academy award winning directors Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi (“Free Solo,” “Wild Life”) and Jimmy Chin (“Free Solo,” “Wild Life”) are making that leap here with “Nyad. 

Starting in 2010, the film follows Diana Nyad, played by Annette Benning (“American Beauty,” “The Kids Are All Right”), as she attempts a solo swim of the straits of Florida, assisted via boat by her best friend Bonnie Stoll, played by Jodie Foster (“Silence of the Lambs,” “Contact”) as her trainer and John Bartlett, played by Rhys Ifans (“House of the Dragon,” “Notting Hill”), as her navigator through the journey. The pair of friends struggle throughout, with Nyad’s stubbornness butting heads with Stoll’s concern for her friend and their mutual desire to set the record and cement themselves in the history books. 

Benning and Foster are fantastic here, with excellent chemistry and the sort of commanding performances that mean the entire film is based solely around them. The script by Julia Fox is certainly nothing revolutionary, the perfect kind of fodder for incredible actors to take and make their own. If nothing else, they’re the entire reason to watch the film itself. Ifans is also great, in a grumbly, jaded sea captain kind of way, but the movie belongs to Benning and Foster. It belongs to them so much in fact, that you’d be hard pressed to remember anything about literally any other character besides them and Bartlett. On the one hand, the film is named after Nyad, so of course she will be the focus, but on the other, any character besides the main three serves to either antagonize Nyad into continuing her quest or support her in that continuation. They aren’t characters, merely physical manifestations of the plot’s pushing or pulling. 

Vasarhelvi and Chin’s direction feels flat and bland, reflecting their background as documentarians to a fault. The direction feels authentic but flat, lacking any sense of cinematic breadth or atmosphere. They might be working with Academy Award winning cinematographer Claudio Miranda (“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button,” “Life of Pi”), but the movie is shot as if it’s a typical documentary, like they’re there with the characters and lacking any sense of urgency and vision. One sequence in the latter half has Nyad hallucinating visions of neon colored jellyfish, not only creating a beautiful visual but effectively communicating her mental state without spelling it out to the viewer. It’s a gorgeous moment and represents the kind of creative choices needed for a fictional film like this, that separates the different types of filmmaking. And it's the only moment like that in the entire film. It’s ironic then that one of the film’s best aspects is a lively and fantastic score from Alexandre Desplat (“The Grand Budapest Hotel,” “The Shape of Water”) that helps to breathe life into everything, taking over all the senses even though it only requires one. 

There’s also something to be said for suspension of disbelief and separating the actual truth from the fictionalized film. However, given how much of her life has been debunked over the years, including the very swim that this film is based around, and her reputation as someone who repeatedly embellishes and overexaggerates her accomplishments, creating a film based around her positioning her as a person who’s being question just because she’s old and gay and a woman is maybe not the best idea. She’s undoubtedly accomplished a lot and there is plenty of merit in creating a film about her, but this way of doing it feels more like hero worship than an honest portrayal of the truth. Ironic given the directors’ history and previous works. 

“Nyad” is a film that proves to be enjoyable and entertaining given its central three performances and the inherent “inspirational” nature of its subject matter, and almost in spite of the blandness of the rest of the filmmaking. If you’re unaware of who Diana is, you’re likely to have a slightly better time, but it's hard not to see an interesting story with great performances put on in the blandest fashion possible. 3.5/5

Killers of the Flower Moon - Review: A Truly American Tragedy

 

In the pantheon of directors whose names are associated with the mere concept of cinema, Martin Scorsese (“Goodfellas,” “Shutter Island”) is one of the greats. With a lineage of cinematic accomplishments most directors could never remotely dream of, he’s made his career out of films based around extremely volatile and violent subject material without ever glorifying or relishing in it. His latest, the epic in length and tone “Killers of the Flower Moon” is a fascinating exploration of his favorite and most violent concept and one on the opposite side of the coin: love. 

The film follows the years long murders of the Osage Nation, a Native American tribe in the Oklahoma who strikes it rich after discovering multiple oil wells on their land. Soon after this, members of the tribe are slowly murdered by those seeking to claim their fortune for themselves. Caught in the middle of the film’s narrative are Ernest Burkhart, played by Leonardo DiCaprio (“Catch Me If You Can,” “The Wolf of Wall Street”), a veteran set upon his murderous path by his greedy uncle William Hale, played by Robert De Niro (“Goodfellas,” “The Godfather”), while Ernest’s wife Mollie, played by Lily Gladstone (“Certain Women,” “First Cow”), attempts to solve and prevent further murders of her people while BOI agent Thomas White Sr., played by Jesse Plemmons (“i’m thinking of ending things,” “The Power of the Dog”), tries to solve the murders as well. 

While the four actors listed above inarguably have the largest roles in the film, this is unequivocally an ensemble piece, fitting together numerous performances large and small from actors whose talents are enough to lead any film on their own. The likes of Tantoo Cardinal (“Longmire,” “The Grizzlies”), John Lithgow (“3rd Rock from the Sun,” “Shrek”), Brendan Fraser (“The Whale,” “The Mummy”), Scott Shepard (“The Young Pope,” “El Camino”), Cara Jade Myers, Louis Cancelmi (“The Irishman,” “The Eyes of Tammy Faye (2021)”), and many more litter the screen, some taking up mere minutes and others staying with us for far longer. But they all make an impact thanks to a phenomenal script from Eric Roth (“Forrest Gump,” “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button”) and Scorsese that deepens each character and their choices, good and bad. 

DiCaprio is expediently excellent, playing Ernest like a sad, wet puppy. He’s a clear coward, moving from bad deed to bad deed, pushing most off to others to not get his own hands dirty. It’s a fascinating performance of a man who could easily have been portrayed as some kind of maddening psychopath but is instead shown to be a whining work of cowardice. De Niro is also great, but in a similar kind of fashion to how good he’s been in the past. It is still a great performance, but it's the kind of performance that is ironically unsurprising even in how great it is. Plemmons is similarly great, riding a line between intensity and warmth for the Osage people. It is a really fascinating role to see someone play; for as horrific as these killings are, this is just another day at the office for him, and Plemmons makes that feeling come alive in increasingly interesting ways. 

Gladstone is the absolute star of the show, however. Her performance is a legendary one, imbuing Mollie with a layer of grace and wisdom a character like hers simply wouldn’t get in a lesser film. It's as if Gladstone refuses to let Mollie simply be “the wife” to Ernest, instead commanding each and every moment they are on screen. An early scene between the two of them at a dinner table shows the difference not just between the characters but also the performances of DiCaprio and Gladstone; DiCaprio is feral, weak, talkative, and clamoring for attention. But Gladstone is calm, collected, massively intelligent, and tells us wonders with just a raise of her eyebrows and a cool gaze. 

As expected from a director this experienced and with a budget this large, the production design elements are phenomenal. From the large-scale towns and effects to the detailed pieces of clothing and use of real-world locations, it's a sumptuous feast for the senses, shot expertly by Rodrigo Prieto (“Brokeback Mountain,” “Argo”). That feast is bolstered by the musical score from Robbie Robertson (“The Color of Money,” “The Irishman”), as well as an abundance of Osage and Native actors and voices throughout. While this is still a film written and directed by a white man with no connection to the story, simply seeing the backgrounds and scenes filled out with actual Native actors breathes life into the proceedings and helps it all feel more powerful and earned. 

If there’s a place to criticize, and there is as “Flower Moon” is by no means a perfect film, it's the runtime. While it is well utilized, it is certainly not a film that feels any shorter than its massive three-and-a-half-hour-long runtime is. Likewise, while there is certainly merit in the film’s depiction of the brutalization of the Osage people, some moments come across more as reveling in the violence rather than respecting the people. It doesn’t feel intentional or purposeful, like Scorsese was trying to glorify the acts in any way, moreso that they’re simply being depicted by a director whose expertise comes with showcases of violence and simply that this is the only way he knows how to showcase them. It doesn’t mean they feel any less gross or uncomfortable however, even beyond having that uncomfort simply be “the point of it”. 

But even within those elements, there are layers upon layers that make the film itself such a fascinating thing to discuss and dissect. Yes, the violent elements can feel overbearing and overwhelming, but they clearly still serve their uncomfortable purpose. Multiple moments throughout seem to satirize the “true crime” obsession we have in the modern day, even as the film itself could be seen as an example of it. DiCaprio’s performance has layers as well, not only serving as an excellent portrayal of an evil man doing despicable things, but also providing the film with some levity given just how stupid and cowardly Ernest can be at times. It’s a very tightly woven ball of cinematic yarn, and not one element here could exist without the others. 

“Killers of the Flower Moon” is a remarkable kind of film because it's so clearly the kind of movie that no one but Scorsese would have attempted, and if anyone else had, it would’ve been a shell of this end result if it was even made. That doesn’t take away from its few flaws, but it's still a monumental and important film that highlights one of the worst brutalities in U.S. history, told with staggeringly good performances, production design, music, and cinematography. It's still shocking that a film like this could get made in this way, with this level of respect. 4/5

Anatomy of a Fall - Review: A Procedurally Excellent Courtroom Drama

There’s hardly a more classic form of cinema than the courtroom drama. Whether as a tightly crafted and dense narrative or just an excuse to see various actors all deliver incisive dialogue in angry tones, rarely does a film of this ilk disappoint. It's equally fascinating to see a film like this from a different country, given the differing legal standards around the world, especially as a showcase for some of the best acting and filmmaking talents from outside the U.S. This is all to say “Anatomy of a Fall” is not just a great example of those two aspects, but one of the best films of the year. 

The film follows a court case surrounding Sandra Voyter, played by Sandra Hüller (“The Zone of Interest,” “I’m Your Man”), who is suspected of possibly murdering her husband university professor Samuel Maleski, played by Samuel Theis (“Un village français,” “The Princess of Montpensier”), after his fall from the second story of their mountain home. She enlists in the help of her friend and lawyer Vincent, played by Swann Arlaud (“By the Grace of God,” “Bloody Milk”), to help build her case and help look after her son Daniel, played by Milo Machado-Graner (“Waiting for Bojangles,” “Stuck Together”), in the midst of the trial. 

Hüller is absolutely magnetic, perfectly setting up the ultimate Schrodinger’s cat of a performance. The entire film hinges on the central idea of if she did or did not actually kill her husband, and her performance never gives any indications either way. It’s a masterful role that keeps the central plate of the film’s ideas spinning amongst its many other spinning plates. Likewise, Arlaud essentially plays the straight man to her character, maintaining the level of logical deductions and realism needed to balance against her anxieties and frustrations with the circumstances. 

Given the fairly simple production design and settings, cinematographer Simon Beaufils (“Saturn Bowling,” “Astrakan”) does an excellent job staging the entire film for maximum suspicion and dramatic effect. It feels as though every other moment could reveal a new piece of information that could dramatically change the entirety of the film’s events. That’s not just due to the staging but the excellent script from writer/director Justine Triet (“Sibyl,” “In Bed with Veronica”) and writer Arthur Harari (“Sibyl,” “Dark Inclusion”). The layers are complex, but it all comes back to the ideas of perception and truth, filtered through Sandra and her son. 

By funneling the normal feelings of anxiety and courtroom drama directly through Sandra and her relationship with Daniel, it allows the film to hit much harder than it otherwise might. It’s the direct familial connections that lay the groundwork for each gut punch of a moment. Triet is also not afraid to get out of the courtroom when necessary, and there are large swaths of the movie spent outside of the courtroom, watching the impacts of the trial spiral throughout Sandra’s life. 

Most importantly, the film never feels like a drag. That’s partly because, despite the two-and-a-half-hour runtime, things move briskly and smoothly from moment to moment, keeping the beats up and excitement high. It's also because it is a remarkably funny movie, with plenty of amusing bits of wordplay and sly humor. It ends up feeling like one of those kinds of dramas that feels “real” without feeling dire or overbearing. 

There’s plenty going on under the hood of this taught, very amusing, very dramatic, very French drama, and it culminates in being one of the best films of the year and one of the best dramas in recent memory. Hüller is phenomenal, carrying the film amongst plenty of other phenomenal performances, and everything truly builds to a conclusion that feels remarkably satisfying in all the ways even the best movies like this normally struggle with. It’s just a phenomenal, fantastic film. 5/5

Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour - Review: One for the Eras

 

It could easily be called unfair to even count a film like this at the end of the year when awards season comes. For some, this was going to automatically become their best movie of the year the moment it was announced. But, even for those unconvinced or unconverted, let’s make one thing astronomically clear: “The Eras Tour”, separate from Taylor Swift’s reputation and music, is an astounding feat of concert filmmaking and technical wizardry.

Filmed over three nights at SoFi Stadium during Swift’s Eras Tour, the film showcases the nearly three-hour concert-slash-victory lap through the artist’s career with only minor variations and cuts from the actual live performance. The concept of the Eras Tour itself is a stroke of both marketing and artistic genius: instead of limiting herself to doing a tour of her most recent album, Swift decided to do a worldwide tour where she played select tracks from her entire discography.

It's a genius move, because not only does it allow old fans to revel in the tracks that they grew up listening to, but new fans who might have only started listening to Taylor’s works post 1989 or Reputation to get a good sense of her earlier works. It’s a kind of celebration, the likes of which has only really been attempted on this scale with “Avengers: Endgame.”

So, yes, the concert film is essentially just the concert, but there’s far more at play here. Filmed over those three nights, director Sam Wrench (“BTS: Permission to Dance on Stage - LA,” “Billie Eilish: Live at the O2”) takes his years of experience making these kinds of films to craft a technically impressive feat. The angles and shots used seem virtually impossible to get given the context of this all being shot during a live concert. It’s not the same as a filmed stage musical, where the audience isn’t there and the cameras can walk right up on stage. It’s the kind of production where you’re both marveling at the stage craft of the actual performance and also wondering “how the hell did they get that shot?”

Swift’s music at this point needs no introduction, but the film proves to ride the perfect line between being for the fans and also a great introduction point. That seems silly to say about a 169-minute-long film, but it sheds the pretense of “skipping the song” on the car radio. It also is more visually stimulating than just listening to the songs given the physical accompaniment via the stage presence and performances.

And what performances they are. From a cabin in the woods, to a sleepy midnight sky, to a burning house, no expense has been spared in crafting some fantastical looking sets on this massive stage. It’s a perfect mixture of digital screens, lights, and physical sets, with each one working in perfect choreography to bring the songs to life. There are so many moments where the film gets the perfect shot or angle for a specific moment it, again, brings to mind the question of “how the hell did they get that shot” and also “how long did it take them to practice this?”

For as big and bombastic as it all can be, there’s still the authenticity at the center of Swift herself that brings it all home. Despite the screams of literally thousands of fans, you can see the excitement on her face to do these moves, perform these songs, and celebrate her work with her fans. The acoustic section displays this the best of all, where Swift just takes a guitar and strums along, singing with the entire stadium.

When the credits roll, the first thing you see is a friendship bracelet. Something that came about naturally through the audience, not Swift herself. There’s no better representation of the film and the tour than that. It’s been a success because of the fans who’ve embraced Swift and her works and something like this is for them all: for the people who can afford the concert tickets and those who can’t and even for those who’re hearing most all of the songs for the first time. It’s a dazzlingly shot and technically impressive celebration, but not for Swift. For the fans. 5/5