Challengers - Review: Game, Set, Matchmaker

 

There have been plenty of sports films before, but there’s never been a sports film quite like a Luca Guadagnino (“Call Me By Your Name,” “Bones and All”) sports film. The director has brought his penchant for sex, skin, bodies, and sweat to Tennis, a sport most commonly associated with repetition and, along with writer Justin Kuritzkes, delivered a combative, competitive love triangle film that exhilarates and excites and titillates from the jump.

“Challengers” follows the thirteen-year-long love triangle between Tashi Duncan, played by Zendaya (“Dune (2021),” “euphoria”), a former tennis played turned coach forced to retire due to an injury, her husband Art Donaldson, a tennis champion played by Mike Faist (“West Side Story (2021),” “Pinball: The Man Who Saved the Game”), and Patrick Zweig, Art’s former best friend and low circuit tennis player played by Josh O’Connor (“God’s Own Country,” “The Crown”). It traces their meeting in college up until the events of a wild card challenger event in New Rochelle, NY, 13 years later.

Before we can get into anything else at all, know this: Zendaya is spectacular. Every member of the main trio is, but there’s just something so particularly magnetic about her performance. Yes, the entire film is essentially based around Art and Patrick’s desire of her and her manipulation of that desire to get what she wants, but the fact that Guadagnino has almost crafted the film to put the audience in Art and Patrick’s position as well is nothing short of genius.

Faist and Zweig are no slouches either. The scenes with the two of them paired up, showcasing the evolution and crumbling of their friendship due to Tashi’s meddling are just as thrilling as the tennis matches themselves. It’s the kind of film where you can never truly tell what someone is going to do, how they’ll react, or if they’ll end up regretting it later.

For a film mostly about tennis, Guadagnino has managed to work with cinematographer Sayombhu Mukdeeprom (“Call Me By Your Name,” “Suspiria (2018)”) to shoot it in the most fascinatingly interesting ways possible. Not only are the standard dialogue scenes well shot, but the tennis matches are pure adrenaline, shot in specific ways that boggle the mind. Couple that with an invigorating score from Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross (“The Social Network,” “Soul”), and you have a recipe for a film that is tailor made to get blood pumping in more ways than one.

There’s a lot of sweat throughout the entire film, and not all of it is related to tennis. Kuritzkes and Guadagnino craft a tale full of metaphor and symbolism, where the back and forth of a tennis match can easily be about more than lobbing a ball back and forth.

On paper, it could be easy to call this a simple relationship drama and leave it at that, but it's not just that. It’s the specific combination of each individual element. Yes, the dialogue, music, cinematography, acting, etc. would all still be compelling in different separate films. But combined in this specific way, it creates a movie that is more than the sum of its already excellent parts.

“Challengers” is a giddy, thrilling drama equal parts sexy, funny, and invigorating. It’s the best Zendaya has ever been and represents a cross section between Guadagnino’s auteurist styles and broader audience appeal. The result is a concoction that is a delight to sit back and stew in, until it pumps you up so much you can't help but stand up and scream. 5/5

We Grown Now - Review: The Kids Who Would Be Kings

 

One of the greatest powers of film and the filmmaking craft is the ability to peer into the world of those you might not be able to otherwise relate to. While there are plenty of films that cover the various experiences of other cultures and peoples, it's always exciting to see a new film directly from the perspective of children, since they definitely cannot make a film about their perspectives in any way. “We Grown Now” takes that perspective and runs with it, treating the supposedly childlike events with the respect and reverence of something like a Shakespearean play. 

Set in 1992 in the Cabrini-Green housing project in Chicago, the film follows 10-year-old best friends Malik, played by Blake Cameron James, and Eric, played by Gian Knight Ramirez, as they work through their adolescence, dealing with issues as school, violence in their neighborhood, and slowly grow apart as they grow older. Jurnee Smolett (“Birds of Prey,” “Lovecraft Country”) and Lil Rel Howery (“Get Out,” “Free Guy”) also star in minor roles as Malik’s mother Dolores and Eric’s father Jason, respectively. 

The most immediately striking thing one will notice about “Now” is the specific angles and perspective of its camerawork. Shot by cinematographer Patrick Scola (“Pig (2021),” “Monsters and Men”), there’s a deliberately low to the ground viewpoint used for much of the film. It builds the childhood perspective up, establishing the film as an almost dreamlike recounting of these events from the point of view of its young leads. The dialogue supports this as well; the script by writer/director Minhal Baig (“1 Night,” “Hala”) gives these two kids plenty of wordy material, and while it clearly isn’t “how kids actually talk” it establishes something more important for a project like this: it understands how kids sound to each other. 

James and Ramirez work together flawlessly, never tripping over a line and delivering it all with the skill of actors four times their age. They quickly establish their friendship and invite us into this film’s world in a remarkably simple way. It really does feel as though we’re seeing this tale through a child’s eyes, and they effectively serve as our guides through it. Smolett and Howery are also fantastic in their admittedly limited roles, making the most of their screentime at every appearance.  

Even the film’s production design and lighting accentuate the feeling of this being a child’s interpretation of the world. The camera angles and perspective as mentioned before are much lower, but everything feels lit with a fuzzy, warm glow, with specific moments of lighting accentuating these environments. It feels like the entire film was shot with the kind of perspective one has when looking back on childhood memories with those often referenced “rose colored glasses.” 

This visual styling, the way the film is shot, and the performances of its young cast all come together to build a film that feels remarkably respectful of childhood and a child’s intelligence. It's been said by many scholars that children are far more intelligent than we give them credit for, and this film seems to operate on that ethos. It makes things far more interesting and engrossing than they otherwise would be if this story was exactly the same but told from the perspective of its adult characters. There is quite a bit of meandering though, and it is a deliberately paced film; even sitting at just over 90-minutes, it can feel longer than its runtime would suggest. 

“We Grown Now” treats its audience and young leads with the utmost respect and intelligence, resulting in a borderline Shakesperean interpretation of the adventures of youth. It serves as a love letter to this young age, loss of innocence, and the Cabrini-Green apartments it calls its main setting. James and Ramirez lead a cast with performances arguably more skilled than those of its older members, and the entire film draws you into this childhood world of hazy lights and low angles to fantastic effect. 4.5/5

Hundreds of Beavers - Review: The 19th Century, Black and White, Slapstick, Fur Trapper, Epic Comedy You've Been Waiting For

 

Even in the current era of YouTube, crowdfunding, and consumer friendly VFX and editing software, making a movie can still be an intense endeavor. There’s a reason most studios go for broke with budgets and don’t venture outside their comfort zones. Which is why a surprise like “Hundreds of Beavers” not only seems so bizarre but completely takes the world by storm. It bucks the trend of virtually every piece of modern filmmaking and emerges as a film that, simply, feels like it shouldn’t exist. 

Set in the snowy American countryside in the 19th century, the film follows applejack salesman Jean Kayak, played by the film’s co-writer Ryland Brickson Cole Tews (“Lake Michigan Monster”), who, after his orchard is destroyed, stumbles his way into becoming a fur trapper under the guise of a man known as The Master Fur Trapper, played by Wes Tank (“Mags and Julie Go on a Road Trip”). After meeting and falling for The Furrier, played by Olivia Graves (“Hunt Her, Kill Her”), the daughter of The Merchant, played by Doug Mancheski (“Appleton”), Jean sets out to win The Merchant’s approval by trapping and bringing him the furs of... hundreds of beavers. 

On paper, as absurd as it might sound, it is easy to describe “Hundreds of Beavers.” It’s a black and white, lofi, (mostly) silent, slapstick comedy influenced by everything from Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, SpongeBob SquarePants, and the Super Mario video games. It has the technical construction of something the neighborhood kids could make in a few months in an abandoned warehouse, a copy of Adobe After Effects, and copious amounts of lime-green cloth. Hell, every single animal in the film, from rabbits to beavers to wolves, is represented by a human in a mascot-esque outfit. 

Somehow, it all works brilliantly. Primarily, it comes back to the fact that at no point do Tews or co-writer/director Mike Cheslik (“Lake Michigan Monster”) feel like they’re winking at the audience. By fully committing to the absurdity of their tale, they allow us to buy into it as well. It doesn’t come across as a cheap film where humans dress in animal mascot outfits; that’s just the animals in the film and how they look. It’s the kind of film where you can imagine actual blood, sweat, and tears went into the making of it. It has more energy and effort than 99% of the Hollywood studio comedies released over the last decade. 

While the motley crew of mostly unknowns fleshes out this stilted view of American snowscapes, Tews himself is the backbone of the entire film. He throws himself into each and every scene, and it almost comes across as if his actual life was on the line given how energetic he can be. There’s a wide-eyed insanity to his physicality that never betrays a genuine beating heart at the center. Much like Wile E. Coyote, Tews’s energy and anarchistic wit comes from a need to survive, which makes the pratfalls and the laughs hit even harder. The rest of the cast fits neatly into a collection of slapstick archetypes, with Mancheski and Graves standing out particularly given their earnestness to slot into these kinds of characters. Mancheski is an easily silly threatening force, and Graves has the classic, Hepburn style beauty that makes it easy to see why Kayak is willing to murder so many woodland creatures for her. 

Despite the fact that the film doesn’t have the seamless effects of something like “Dune Part Two” or “Wicked,” what “Hundreds of Beavers” does have on its side is, once again, energy, heart, and grit. Cheslik serves as the film’s sole editor and visual effects producer, and his work feels like a minor miracle. Whereas some might choose their directorial debut as a small-scale feature to get their feet wet, Cheslik has dived headfirst into the realm of slapstick glory. Not only is there an impressive amount of compositing and green-screen effects, but the practical work is phenomenal as well. Thanks to Tews’s gung-ho performance, each and every hit, trap, slap, and rube-goldberg contraption has the madcap whimsy of a Chuck Jones cartoon. It's the perfect example of a film committing to a style and film language when the budget clearly won’t suffice. That’s where it truly succeeds, as at no point in the 108-minute runtime does that language ever falter from its low-budget black-and-white tendencies. 

A lot of times the independent film industry can come across as a “holier than thou” endeavor, packed with three-hour meditations on life or exercises in the pains of childhood. But at the same time, it's also a breeding ground for works like this. Because while it certainly has a handful of sequences that border on the surrealist and trippy, “Hundreds of Beavers” is also a film that just wants to make you laugh. It’s without a doubt the funniest film of this year so far, and it's hard to see any other movie topping it. There are pieces of comedy from all stylings, and it's a “throw it at the wall and see what sticks” approach that somehow works wonders. Even as it might turn too absurd for some in its final moments, it's over almost directly after, leaving the viewer almost out of breath from laughing as they wonder to themselves what just happened. 

In this day and age, where multi-hundred-million-dollar blockbusters can come out and maintain a shocking level of artistic expression, it's reassuring to know that a film like “Hundreds of Beavers” can even exist. Bold, black and white, absurd, and full of the kind of technical wizardry that can only come from a shoestring budget, if there’s any justice in the world or in Hollywood, then Tews and Cheslik deserve to have a career as long, funny, and absurd as this, their landmark film. And full of just as many beavers. 5/5

Civil War - Review: America the Beautiful

 

Making a film about a fictional future civil war taking place within the United States in our current political landscape is going to be quite the volatile decision. Very few people could take on such a task, and at least take it on with the kind of attention, nuance, and intelligence it would require to not turn into a two hour “Call of Duty” level. Is Alex Garland (“Ex Machina,” “28 Days Later”) that person? In some ways yes, and in some ways no.

The film follows a group of journalists consisting of Lee Smith, a war photojournalist played by Kirsten Dunst (“The Virgin Suicides,” “Bring It On”), her colleague from Reuters, Joel, played by Wagner Moura (“Narcos,” “Puss in Boots: The Last Wish”), a veteran New York Times journalist, Sammy, played by Stephen McKinley Henderson (“Lady Bird,” “Dune (2021)”), and a young photographer who idolizes Lee, Jessie, played by Cailee Spaeny (“Priscilla,” “Devs”). The group finds themselves on a road trip from New York to Washington D.C. to interview the dictatorial President, played by Nick Offerman (“Parks and Recreation,” “The Founder”), as a civil war caused by his actions in his third term ravages the United States.

There are some immediately fascinating elements to this film that bear discussing, but first and foremost, the performances are stellar. Even if you think the content of the film isn’t great or turn your nose to the general premise, the performances across the board manage to be exceptionally grounded and real without feeling flat or downplayed at any moment. Dunst in particular is a massive highlight, and Spaeny as well proves to be a great foil as we watch a younger and older generation feud over how to do this kind of job. Henderson and Moura are also great, but the film is completely stolen by Dunst and Spaeny.

While it may be the largest budgeted film A24 has ever released, it is still astonishing what Garland has managed to pull off for a price tag of just $50 million. Numerous shots seem so barren and open, but without any sense of CGI trickery. So many moments are packed with visual trickeries and staged moments that seem almost impossible to pull off for a production of this size and for this budget, but it’s not only achieved but done spectacularly. The only aspect of the production that feels a bit off is the score, from composers Ben Salisbury (“Men,” “Ex Machina”) and Geoff Barrow (“Men,” “Ex Machina”). Some moments feel perfect, and others simply feel like they’re underscored by a lot of thumping, cliched electronic music.

The real meat of “Civil War” is in the titular war and what is and isn’t shown. This is a film about perception, and much of the tale is spent with our pack of journalists, and as they travel the country, we get plenty of discussions on the nature of their job as observers. One character asks another how they would photograph them if they were killed on their journey. Because of this focus on observing, the film itself takes a remarkably subdued approach to the central conflict. We never learn what the war was about, what the President did to cause it, what “each side is fighting for.”

As opposed to other films where this could seem like a cowardly decision, here it fits as a distinct and purposeful choice to make a film about perceptions and observing. At one point, our group finds themselves pinned down by a sniper with a pair of soldiers. They refused to identify which side they’re fighting for and when questioned as to why they’re shooting at the sniper, they simply reply “We’re shooting at him because he’s shooting at us.” Lee at one point mentions that she photographed “the Antifa massacre.” The characters know what this event is, but we the audience don’t know if the name refers to an Antifa group doing the massacring or being massacred.

The lack of specificity will likely frustrate some and anger others. Why make a film like this if you aren’t willing to commit to a certain “side” or narrative? Much of the film is about questioning those who believe they can stay neutral. A few times Lee mentions that she does her job so others can take action; “we record so others ask.” Later on, we hear that her parents have essentially not left their rural Ohio house since the conflict started as they’re “trying to stay out of it.” But the film asks if, by taking such a passive perspective in her photography, if she herself is also staying out of it, and is such a position really possible? And is it even relevant with the scale of violence being perpetuated?

For some, “Civil War” will be a film more interesting to discuss and dissect rather than to watch. That’s not discounting the incredible work put into the production and performances. Merely, it's an unfortunate byproduct of the film’s central idea. For some people it just won’t work as well as it will for others, creating an insurmountable dichotomy between their experiences. Make no mistake though, any film that can create such heated debates over its elements is anything but bad. 3.5/5

The People's Joker - Review: See How She Got These Emotional Scars

 

In the world of modern cinema, there’s something kind of magical about actually being able to describe something as “unlike anything you’ve seen before.” Not just in terms of visual characteristics, but in storytelling and plot, it seems as if we’ve been to every world, seen every creature, and experienced every kind of trope possible on the silver screen. But in comes the unauthorized, authentically mad, wonderfully indescribable “The People’s Joker” to smash all of that to the ground.

The film follows Joker the Harlequin, played by writer/director/editor Verd Drew, a trans-woman and aspiring comedian living in Gotham City who struggles with her attempts to break into the world of stand-up comedy. After failing to make it on the standup show UCB Live, she decides to start an underground alt-comedy group with her friend Penguin, played by Nathan Faustyn, and ends up dating one of the comedians, the Marxist-joke telling Mr. J, played by Kane Distler. Eventually, fed up with Batman’s ruling over Gotham and the way UCB treats its comedians, Joker decides to fight back against the system to take them both down, while going through a gender transition spurred by the movement in the process.

Drew’s sense of humor and style will certainly not be for everyone, but there’s a deep level of authenticity that simply cannot be faked. Drew and co-writer Bri LeRose (“Magic for Humans,” “Chad and JT Go Deep”) might be painting this tale with sickly greens and the brushes of 1000 different online contributors, but there’s a deep-rooted genuine nature to this tale of self and gender identity. Drew herself is an okay actor, and the performance she gives succeeds in that authenticity as it falters in more strictly “good” acting choices.

The rest of the film’s ensemble fares well, essentially matching Drew’s efforts, with a handful of minor background voices or roles feeling more like fan-made YouTube level clips. Distler manages to rise to Drew’s level, putting some real heft into his delivery without doing so well as to cover up the amateurish nature of the performance. Surprisingly, it’s Faustyn that manages to steal the show, delivering a legitimately funny and endearing interpretation of the Penguin’s persona. Also stealing the show is “Tim and Eric” regular David Liebe Hart as UCB Live alum Ra's al Ghul, who mentors Joker through the comedy world in a surprisingly sympathetic and endearing portrayal of the older mentor trope.

Visually, you’ve truly seen nothing like “The People’s Joker” and its do-it-yourself filmmaking aesthetic. Scenes go from live action on green screens to action figures posing to hand drawn animation to stop motion to rudimentary CGI in the blink of an eye. This sporadic nature lends itself well to the absurdist way this tale is told, with flashbacks literally censoring out any use of the Joker’s pre-transition deadname. Various scenes were even made by completely different people from across the country, all coming together to form a hodgepodge mishmash of insanity. It’s the kind of film where one cameo can get edited out and replaced with another with virtually zero effect due to the visual styles of the film. Hell, even Bob Odenkirk gets a spliced-in cameo after he heard about and loved the concept.

For those calling the film out on its subject matter or even its depictions of various DC characters, it's obviously done in an unauthorized way, but not without appreciation. This is clearly the kind of project that, for all its joking nature and clear criticisms for DC, Batman, Warner Bros., and the comics industry at large, there’s also a deep love for this world on display. From the recreations of iconic landmarks to specific moments in comic history to namedropping C and D tier characters, this seemingly anti-superhero-movie movie might just be one of the most passionate displays of love for the medium in a very long time.

It’s not without its faults though. As said before, the visual style and sense of humor are not for everyone, and it might simply be too visually busy for some to watch, even before taking the humor into consideration. It’s a very brash film, not interested in toning itself down in any way, requiring the viewer to meet it on its own terms. It also spirals a bit into bizarre self-headiness within its last ten minutes. It’s certainly a bold choice for an ending, and it does end on one single perfect moment, but it still feels weirdly more “experimental” than even the rest of the film. And Vera, we love ya’, but singing is not your strong suit.

“The People’s Joker” is just that; a superhero-set film made for the people by a lot of talented people. It’s a miracle that this film even exists, let alone continues to exist safe from the nuclear bombs of DC and Warner Bros. (Drew does credit her lawyers, even the ones who wish to remain anonymous, in the film’s credits). It is a sheer force of creative will and energy, a blast of colorful, anti-establishment comedy and superhero takedowns used to disguise a deeply personal story of identity that might be the only film in decades that could legitimately be described as unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. And that’s no joke. 4/5

Monkey Man - Review: A Brutal and Punishing Debut

 

Barreling into cinemas proudly and confidently thumping its chest, Dev Patel’s (“Slumdog Millionaire,” “The Green Knight”) directorial debut, which he also produced, stars in, and co-wrote alongside Paul Angunawela (“Keith Lemon: The Film”) and John Collee (“Hotel Mumbai,” “Happy Feet”), “Monkey Man” is far more than just an “Indian John Wick” knock-off. It’s brutal, bloody, and unforgiving in ways that series and other action films aren’t, crafting a tone and work entirely its own. 

Following an unnamed man going by Kid, played by Patel, the film showcases his journey working odd jobs in India whilst moonlighting as an unnamed boxing heel known as Monkey Man, while secretly planning revenge against the military and the man who killed his mother and burned down his village as a child. 

Patel leads an impressive ensemble cast that breathes life into all facets of the Indian caste system as represented here. Sharlto Copley (“District 9,” “Elysium”) plays Tiger, the announcer of Kid’s nightly matches, Pitobash (“Million Dollar Arm,” “Shor in the City”) as Kid’s comedic accomplice in his quest Alphonso, Ashwini Kalsekar (“Jodha Akbar,” “Merry Christmas (2024)”) as Queenie, the matriarchal leader of a luxury brothel, Makarand Deshpande (“Darna Zaroori Hai,” “Dandupalya”) as Baba, a religious leader masquerading as an innocent man who’s actually giving the genocidal orders to the likes of Rana, played by Sikander Kher (“Aarya,” “Dukaan”). 

The whole cast is fantastic, and Patel really dives headfirst into an exceptionally physical role. He quite literally throws himself at most walls, structures, and fights with the sort of vigor that you’d typically only expect from someone who’s been doing this kind of action stunt work for decades. There’s a fresh-faced energy to the performance and the physicality of it all. Like the great every-man performances of times gone by, Patel’s ability to let himself get beat to hell and back and still come back from it is extremely endearing and works to build audience engagement with his tale. 

Everything here feels exceptionally gnarly and nasty, even for films that are always this traditionally violent. If John Wick and similar action films almost seem like the hero is bleeding too little, “Monkey Man” fixes this problem wholeheartedly. It does mean that, even for its genre, it can feel particularly unforgiving and mean, which could be a turnoff to some viewers. It prevents the movie from having a fun “blockbuster” effect like other similar action films, which while not affecting the quality, does mean it has less of a “throw it on at any moment” feeling. 

The cinematography, by Sharone Meir (“Whiplash,” “Silent Night”), is intense and chaotic, just as much as the fights and violence itself. It's gnarly and gets right up in the faces and spaces of the characters doing the swinging, resulting in some truly visceral and adrenaline pumping camerawork. This doesn’t just make for a great display of how to shoot action like this uniquely, but also as a window into the fractured psyche and headspace of the film’s protagonist. 

Underneath all of that, Patel has also managed to effortlessly weave a layer of queer representation to the events of the film. There’s a group of hijra refugees that help him later in the film as well as a group of trans women warriors he fights alongside in the third act. It adds to the film’s themes of oppression and revolution while also further connecting it to the various Indian religious groups and individual communities, fleshing out the film further. These badass moments are enhanced even more thanks to a rocking score from composer Jed Kurzel (“The Babadook,” “Overlord”), blending rocking action instruments with classical Indian music stylings. 

After being plucked from Netflix from Universal and Jordan Peele for a broad theatrical release, Dev Patel’s directorial debut manages to be a bone crunching action flick with deep cultural ties and a rebellious spirit. It isn’t just in camera work or colors either, as the ideas of rebelling and fighting oppression are tied into the fabric of the film’s identity. “Monkey Man” might be punishing even by its genre’s standards, but it's still a thrilling and exceptional debut no matter what. 4/5

Godzilla X Kong: The New Empire - Review: A Monkey and a Lizard Walk into a Brawl

In an age of increasingly noisy, smashy, crashy adventures that try to posit themselves as something more, it is admittedly refreshing to see a film not only know exactly what it is, but also communicate and excel at that aspect. Now the fifth film in Warner Bros. and Legendary’s american “MonsterVerse” series, “Godzilla X Kong: The New Empire” is exactly as absurd as that title would lead you to believe. 

Set three years after the events of the previous film, Godzilla is mostly roaming the Earth’s surface, fighting back stray kaiju and other creatures to protect humanity while Kong roams Hollow Earth, the gravity bending inner surface of our planet. However, the two are forced to team up once again when a crazed ape leader named the Skar King attempts to conquer the surface. 

Yes, there are humans here, but refreshing they feel far more like background characters than ever before. While Rebecca Hall (“Christine,” “The Town”), Dan Stevens (“Beauty and the Beast (2017),” “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga”), Brian Tyree Henry (“Causeway,” “Widows”), and Kaylee Hottle do the best with their admittedly thin material, they’re clearly aware of the kind of stuff they’re chewing. Stevens and Henry especially are hamming it up at almost every turn, and Hall and Hottle do provide some unexpected bits of pathos. When you’re handed a script with lines like “they just took out the power generator electrical... thingy,” it's easy to grasp the tone of what you’re doing. 

In an interesting inversion, meanwhile there are large swaths of the film spent with the Kaiju with no dialogue or even other humans. It’s refreshing to see for a series that has routinely had plenty of great actors wasted due to characters who were shoehorned in to explain things. Not only does it feel more natural, but it's also a bit smarter in its execution since so much of what it needs to communicate in those moments is communicated wordlessly. 

That being said, it is still a movie called “Godzilla x Kong” and when the fists and fur flies, it's pretty fun. Numerous moments in the film go for pure Looney Tunes levels of absurdity and it really works. It’s fun and lightweight, getting in and out in under two hours with writer/director Adam Wingard (“You’re Next,” “The Guest”) and writers Terry Rossio (“Aladdin,” “Shrek”), Simon Barrett (“Blair Witch,” “The Guest”), and Jeremy Slater (“Death Note (2017),” “Fantastic Four (2015)”) crafting all the junky, cool looking action one could hope for. 

It quite obviously isn’t anything spectacular. It’s the same kind of “excuse for a fight” story these films have been pumping out for years, and in a world where “Godzilla Minus One” exists, it's even more apparent this “MonsterVerse” is content to essentially exist as junk food and not much else. But it is junk food coated with chaotic colors that pop everywhere and a thick bundle of synths cranking a clearly “Miami Vice” inspired score from Tom Holkenborg (“Mad Max: Fury Road,” “Deadpool”) and Antonio Di Iorio, so what’s there to complain about?

“Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire” is about as mindless an action film can get while still being giddy and fun. It’s getting smarter with the balance of humans and monsters without smoothing things over too much. This is the sort of movie that looks like action figures smashing together with bright colors and cool sounds and delivers exactly what is advertised. 3/5

Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire - Review: A Chillingly Soulless Spookfest

 

If there are chills to be had, then that means there are either spooks about or temperatures dropping, and the latest from Sony’s busting bonanza has ample amounts of both. The aptly titled “Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire” has the gang of scientific specter wranglers taking on an ancient threat that wants to freeze New York City over. It also has them taking on bloated scripts, an overload of characters, and truly an abundance of remarkably in-depth lore. 

The film picks up a few years after the events of “Afterlife” and sees the extended Spengler family, consisting of Pheobe, played by Mckenna Grace (“Gifted,” “Troop Zero”), Callie, played by Carrie Coon (“The Leftovers,” “Gone Girl”), and Trevor, played by Finn Wolfhard (“Stranger Things,” “IT (2017)”), as well as Gary, played by Paul Rudd (“Ant-Man,” “Wet Hot American Summer”), busting ghosts in New York City under the advisement of Winston, played by Ernie Hudson (“Oz,” “Congo”). After an ancient orb that seems to contain an evil frost spirit falls into the possession of Ray, played by Dan Akroyd (“Trading Places,” “The Blues Brothers”), the city falls under threat as the gang must band together again to stop the incoming danger. 

Overall, there’s a very episodic sort of feeling to the general events of the film. Like a season of television condensed into a two-hour movie, with payoffs to previous events and escapades coming in the last ten minutes or so. There’s Trevor hunting a spirit living in the firehouse attic, Pheobe and Ray bonding over being ostracized by their friends and family, Gary trying to fill a fatherlier role in Trevor and Phoebe’s life, as well as the typical “save the world” and “stop the mayor from shutting us down” plots. There’s a lot going on and the script written by director Gil Kenan (“Monster House,” “City of Ember”) and Jason Reitman (“Juno,” “Up In The Air”) feels more than a little stuffed. It’s not just plots either, as there are plenty of other characters squeezed into the plot. 

We have the return of Bill Murray (“Caddyshack,” “Rushmore”) and Annie Potts (“Young Sheldon,” “Pretty in Pink”) as Peter and Janine, respectively, Patton Oswalt (“Ratatouille,” “The Sandman”) as a librarian obsessed with spiritual and ancient machinations, Kumail Nanjiani (“Silicon Valley,” “The Big Sick”) as Nadeem, a possibly haunted human who becomes an object of Peter and Ray’s fascinations, James Acaster (“Hypothetical,” “Cinderella (2021)”) as Lars, a scientist working with the Ghostbusters, and Emily Alyn Lind (“Gossip Girl (2021),” “The Babysitter”) as Melody, a ghost girl Pheobe strikes up a friendship with, as well as returning characters from “Afterlife.”

There’s plenty going on and not all of it receives the attention it needs to be compelling or thoroughly fleshed out. Also, while the “Ghostbusters” series has always had cruder and more innuendo-based jokes, there’s something very awkward and uncomfortable about having the main source of those jokes in this particular film not be any of the original cast or the adults at all, but instead one of the teenage girls, and those jokes are constant.

Without a doubt, the brightest spots in the film are anything involving Grace’s Pheobe. She’s clearly the star of this new series of sequels, and this film cements that without a doubt. She’s the most compelling from a character perspective, and her journey is also the most interesting from a storytelling perspective. Whereas the rest of the group can either underutilized, Grace gets the right balance of silliness and seriousness, especially with her subplot involving Alyn Lind’s ghost girl Melody. Akroyd also gets to shine, finally embracing the weirder more obsessive bits of Ray in a way that’s undeniably compelling, and his scenes alongside Hudson are great. It really does feel like two lifelong friends together again, instead of two performers. 

At one point during the production, Kenan mentioned being directly inspired by the various Ghostbuster animated series, and that’s very apparent in numerous aspects of the film. From the creatures’ designs to the larger scale destruction/doom-and-gloom of it all, there’s a very Saturday morning cartoon vibe to everything. This does mean that the film loses even more of the comedic tone that the original two films had. Love them or hate them, they were still comedies first and foremost, and this film continues the trend “Afterlife” started by having the films feel less and less like comedies and more like action films with comedic elements sprinkled throughout. “Frozen Empire” is clearly having more fun than “Afterlife” but it comes at a cost. 

The film just feels like diminishing returns. This is the fourth time, at least, that we’ve seen the Ghostbusters publicly save the world, and yet the mayor and city still treat them like random vigilantes. It’s the third time we’ve “discovered” Slimer and yet we still act as if he’s some random ghost causing mayhem. So many of the plot beats feel repeated from previous films, and they’d be overstaying their welcome even if the film didn’t have eight plots happening all at once. 

“Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire” certainly isn’t the worst blockbuster out this year or in the last decade. But it's disheartening to see a series that used to be packed with such genuine funny and anarchic energy be reduced to franchise fodder, complete with big CGI villains and overstuffed plots. It’s a fun enough time, bolstered by Mckenna Grace and any of the chunks focused on her, but the rest of the film struggles to rise above mediocrity. It’s a spooky series that’s missing the soul. 3/5

Snack Shack - Review: A Delicious and Foul-Mouthed Summertime Treat

 

As we slowly begin to reach the bottom of the barrel of 80s nostalgia, that means there’s only one logic next step for those wishing to recreate the warm glow of their childhood memories: the 90s. And in the grand spirit of that era, writer/director Adam Carter Rehmeier (“Dinner in America”) has delivered a foul-mouthed tribute to the summertime haze of melting ice cream, freshly mowed lawns, small town patriotism, friendship, and the paradise of the local town pool with “Snack Shack.”

Set in the summer of 1991, 14-year-old best friends AJ, played by Conor Sherry (“The Devil You Know,” “The Terminal List”), and Moose, played by Gabriel LaBelle (“The Fabelmans,” “American Gigolo (2022)”), land themselves in hot water with their parents after their latest money-making scheme, secretly fermenting beer in their basement, is exposed. Determined to still make money in a more acceptable manner, they decide to purchase the rights to run the snack shack at the local pool for the summer. Said local pool is also where their surrogate older brother figure Shane, played by Nick Robinson (“Jurassic World,” “Love, Simon”), works as a lifeguard, and AJ’s summertime next door crush Brooke, played by Mika Abdalla (“Project Mc²,” “Sex Appeal”), also works as a lifeguard as well.

Rehmeier seems like he’s almost designed this film from its inception as a tribute to not just the era of the 90s, but the feelings that can be elicited from that very specific early teenaged period of one's life. AJ and Moose are clearly best friends, but they also beat the hell out of each other and call each other the most vulgar insults imaginable. It’s the kind of bond that can only exist at that specific time in someone’s life, and Sherry and LaBelle embody these roles perfectly. Sherry keeps AJ from feeling like a complete pushover, while still making him the meeker, more lovable one of the duo. Despite being fresh off a role as the quiet, meek Sammy Spielberg in “The Fabelmans”, LaBelle is gloriously crude and foul-mouthed, channeling the kind of charming dirtbag energy last seen with performers like Vince Vaughn or Bill Murray.

Robinson also works fantastically as the idealized portrait of the local town golden boy/older brother figure so many remember from their small-town childhoods, and Abdalla manages to pull off the “girl-next-door" angle without feeling infantilized or objectified. They’re both also great examples of one of the film’s oddest and greatest strengths: weaponized, charm infused cursing. Hearing Brooke constantly refer to AJ as “shit pig” or the almost melodic way AJ and Moose talk to each other, with virtually every other word being some kind of four letter-expletive, not only creates a vivid picture of the time-period, but also allows Rehmeier to craft an almost Tarantino-esque level of flow. The dialogue may be great, but the overall plot does follow plenty of the same beats seen in numerous other teen coming of age movies, leading to a feeling of simplicity, even as it's being performed by some fantastic actors.

It also manages to create an effective semblance of the era, with just enough touch-ups to let anyone remember this period through rose-tinted glasses. Everything from the carpets to the handrails on stairs to the way the pools and shack look feels ripped right out of the time in the best way possible. It’s honestly impressive given the film’s low budget that it was able to effectively recreate the feeling so well, especially given the small-town setting and large number of interiors. A musical score by Keegan DeWitt (“Hearts Beat Loud,” “Her Smell”) keeps things lively and bubbling along, adding a rat-a-tat feeling to AJ and Moose’s schemes and the shack’s busiest days.

For those looking for a fun throwback to the era of 90s foul-mouthed, heart on its sleeve comedies, “Snack Shack” will absolutely be the perfect summertime treat. Sherry and LaBelle absolutely run away with the picture, and the near perfect feeling recreation of the period means that this is a simple and sweet treat that doesn’t reinvent the wheel but does make rolling it a blast. 4.5/5 

Love Lies Bleeding - Review: Muscling Your Way Through the Desert

 

It doesn’t get more genre cinema than a gritty crime romance drama set in the middle of the rural U.S. desert. So many films have headed in this direction before, and the quality of them runs the gamut. It’s to the point now where one can assume exactly what kind of film it’ll be based purely on this setting. Rose Glass’s (“Saint Maud”) new film “Love Lies Bleeding” certainly seems like that kind of a film, and it is... until it isn’t. 

The film follows Lou, played by Kristen Stewart (“Twilight,” “Spencer”), a reclusive manager at a New Mexico gym who soon falls into a romance with Jackie, played by Katy O’Brian (“Z-Nation,” “The Mandalorian”), a bodybuilder who comes to town looking for work before a bodybuilding competition. She finds work via Lou’s brother-in-law J.J., played by Dave Franco (“21 Jump Street (2012),” “The Disaster Artist”), with Lou’s estranged father Lou Sr., played by Ed Harris (“Westworld (2016),” “The Truman Show”), which complicates Jackie and Lou’s relationship before things begin to spiral.

Stewart works wonders as a lanky specimen of lesbian angst and nerves. She embodies a kind of threatening string bean role that feels remarkably different from anything else she’s done before, without straying too far outside of her established skills. O'Brian is a specimen of muscular emotion, effortlessly swinging between “teddy bear” energy and genuinely threatening presence. Franco is a limited but smarmy presence that radiates genuine malice, and Harris is a constant time bomb, truly feeling as if he could explode and ruin things for these characters at a moment's notice. Jena Malone (“Contact,” “The Hunger Games: Catching Fire”) has a smaller role as Lou’s sister and J.J.’s wife Beth and is heartbreaking and overall fine in her part. Anna Baryshnikov (“Dickinson,” “Superior Donuts”) is an unnerving and uncomfortable and fantastic presence as Lou’s infatuated borderline stalker Daisy. 

The biggest strength of the film, outside of Stewart and O’Brian’s fantastic chemistry, is the general feel of it all. Things are often dripping with inky blacks and neo-noir stylings, giving even the cleaner and nicer chunks of this New Mexico-set tale a seedy feeling. Glass keeps the pace moving smoothly, allowing things to boil and feel as though the violent conclusions are simply inevitable. It’s the sort of film that’s borrowing from plenty of influences but keeps things moving and absolutely puts its own stamp on things. 

As things progress and get increasingly more manic and weird, Glass’s deft hand keeps the ship afloat, even as it threatens to capsize under the weight of its queer and noir ambitions. The musical score from Clint Mansell (“Black Swan,” “Requiem for a Dream”) does wonders to help with this, as his cool synth music almost acts like a bucket of ice water for the viewer to keep things from burning too hot. 

Themes of abuse and addiction are clear within the entire picture, and Glass embraces them without allowing them to overwhelm the pulpy, bloody soul at the center. Even as the film spirals towards truly becoming unbelievable in its conclusion, the deft and assured vision at the wheel makes sure things never go becomes ridiculous or turn into self-parody. It still won’t be for everyone, but somehow Glass has her steroid filled cake and eats it too. 

Rose Glass’s latest is an absolutely delicious piece of new queer media. It feels violent and aggressive yet also wants to use those emotions to explore themes of abuse and addiction in various ways with its characters. Stewart and O’Brian are electric together, and Harris proves he can still be a terrifying screen presence. It’s a pulpy, sultry, bloody good time and one hell of a sophomore feature. 4.5/5