OSCARS 2026: Weapons (2025)

 

After "Barbarian" became the surprise horror hit of 2022, Zach Cregger immediately went from merely a member of a cult favorite sketch comedy team to the hottest up-and-coming genre director in Hollywood. The press seemed incapable of not comparing Creggor's career path to that of friend Jordan Peele. Well, Creggor didn't win an Oscar for "Barbarian" but his next script – a so-called "horror epic" entitled "Weapons" – did result in a highly publicized bidding war between studios. Despite all the buzz around "Weapons," lips remained tightly sealed concerning the film's actual premise. As the marketing machine started to roll and trailers came out, only the inciting incident of the story remained revealed. I guess everyone realized that "Barbarian" prospered greatly from gaining a "go in knowing as little as possible" reputation online. Clearly, this mysterious approach worked, as "Weapons" became a proper blockbuster this past August. As with Creggor's first hit, I somehow managed to enter the theater without learning too much about it. Was the effort to avoid spoilers worth it? 

In the autumn of 2023, at 2:17 A.M., seventeen children in the town of Maybrook, Pennsylvania left their homes and never returned. All the kids were part of teacher Justine Grady's third grade class with only one, Alex Lilly, arriving at his desk the next day. The local police scrambled to undercover answers but found none. Justine becomes the target of heavy scrutiny and harassment from the parents of the missing children, insisting she must somehow be responsible, but she's as clueless as everyone else. She becomes concerned about Alex and attempts to reach out to him, despite being barred from doing so by the school principal. Archer Graff, father of one of the missing boys, begins to pursue his own investigation. He also determines that the Lilly household is at the center of the enigma. Justine's ex-boyfriend and local cop Paul, her boss at the school, a crackhead named James, and Alex's peculiar Aunt Gladys all become entangled in the mystery as well in increasingly violent ways.  

"Barbarian" started out as a writing exercise for Creggor who, dissatisfied with the direction of the scene, then introduced a wild twist. The rest of the film spun out of that swerve. "Weapons" has a somewhat similar approach, while also drawing from the novel-like structure of "Magnolia." The film is broken into seven chapters, each one following the perspective of a different character. The timeline traces back and forth, sometimes showing the same events from different points-of-view. Creggor often ends each segment with a cliffhanger or exciting reveal, each part of the film only giving the audience a little more information about what exactly is going on here. It is a script designed to draw you ever-more into this narrative, while always having another unexpected twist or shocking event up its sleeve. Two features in and it's clear that this kind of playful storytelling is Creggor's style. Maybe he's a writer with a short attention span who has to repeatedly shift directions in the story to keep himself interested. It's certainly a clever way to catch the viewer's attention and keep us off-guard. 

"Barbarian's" twists were outrageous in nature, a slow-burn battle of the sexes thriller suddenly becoming a monster movie and then shifting towards finding the parallels in the #MeToo era and small town horrors such as those committed by Ariel Castro. "Weapons" is much more of a mystery, presenting us and the characters with a haunting series of disappearances. The film gets a lot of mileage out of shadowy nighttime shots of kids Naruto running out of their houses and into the dark. Starting with Justine's perspective, a baffled bystander who is too empathetic to stop looking into what happened, allows the viewer to also come into the story from the side. We are also an outsider to what is happening here. Archer, meanwhile, is obsessed with uncovering the truth, pushing his wife away and failing at his job as he devotes every waking minute to finding his boy. He looks for clues, re-watching the doorbell camera footage of his son running away and badgering other parents for similar evidence. These are two people at odds with each other but they are both compelled by a search for answers. It's the kind of narrative hook that you can't help but get caught up in too, like any sort of puzzling true crime incident. 

Both of them are also haunted by nightmares centered around the crime. The most beguiling of which has Archer seeing a massive assault rifle emerging from the sky. When paired with a story involving a communities of parents who are enraged, confused, and desperate over the sudden loss of their children, some pressing real world issue come to mind. Is “Weapons” inspired by the unending wave of school shootings we have in this country? Justine being wrongfully targeted as having some sort of responsibility for what happened, meanwhile, brings stories of the mourning parents of dead children being harassed by unhinged conspiracy theorists. Archer's behavior certainly resembles the Sandy Hill Truthers and PizzaGate crowd, with the way he obsessively searches video and images for clues only he can see. There's other ideas floating around inside Cregger's film, concerning police accountability and abuse of power, which could also tie into these themes. Instead, after a fascinating first half steeped in mystery, “Weapons” turns towards providing concrete – albeit supernatural – answers to most of its questions, none of which address these real world parallels. As someone who was, just yesterday, complaining about how modern horror films foreground their subtext at the sacrifice of scares, maybe I shouldn't be complaining about this. Nevertheless, “Weapons” is more compelling when presenting its mystery than when resolving it. 

Which isn't to say that I didn't enjoy “Weapons.” I did, a lot. Creggor's film trusts the audience in a way that most horror movies released by New Line Cinema these days usually don't. Strictly through visual means, the mechanics of the otherworldly forces at work here are explained. This pays off especially nicely in the last act, when a child grasps the same system of sympathetic magic practically intuitively. Further more, there are hints throughout concerning the nature of parasites. It is briefly discussed in Justine's class room and a pair of supporting characters watch a documentary about ophiocordyceps in ants. Both of which give us an idea of the villain's motivation without spelling it out via blunt exposition. In general, “Weapons” is a very assured film. Joe Murphy's editing is tight. Larkin Seiple's cinematography is moody. The soundtrack, from the Holladay brothers, is a little heavy on the discordant ambiance but works more often than not. Much like “Barbarian,” this takes some wild tonal turns in its second half. There's explosive moments of brutal gore, more painful and subtler scenes of bodily injury, before the film veers towards a mad cap sense of high-energy retribution at its climax.

Part of why I felt “Weapons” dropped off a little in its second half is because I found its first two protagonists so much more compelling than its other ones. The script does a very good job of making Justine and Archer complex, layered human beings. Without tediously detailing her backstory, we learn that Justine is a recovering and often relapsing alcoholic. She's made some mistakes in the past but they are often centered around her desire to help people, in her own insistent way. Julia Garner – who is having quite the year – does an excellent job of creating this fail-daughter who is trying her best. Garner makes Justine's frustration and stubbornness amusing and relatable, rather than annoying. While Archer does some shitty things throughout the story, Josh Brolin's performance makes sure to center the pain he feels as a dad that's let down his only child. There's a deep-seated self-loathing to his actions, this sense that he's failed in his goals and now is desperate to make up for them. The rest of the cast is quite solid as well. Benedict Wong gets a few laughs as the person reacting to a lot of the unlikely shit. Austin Abrams is especially amusing as a tweaker always on the search for his next easy buck. Amy Madigan vacillates nicely between a seemingly harmless old lady and a much colder, more sinister figure. I just wanted to know more about Justine and Archer. They were really compelling and the film ends with their arcs both feeling a little incomplete. 

An element of “Weapons” that I did find interesting is the way the camera lingers on brand names throughout. A can of Coke is centered early on. Campbell's chicken noodle soup shows up prominently in the second half. The bedroom of Archer's son is decorated with recognizable athletes and other pop culture figures. The Batman logo makes an interesting appearance. I don't think this an example of product placement or cross-corporate synergy. Another element emphasized in the film is the presence of cameras and recording devices. Everyone in town seemingly has Ring devices on their door bells. Phones are used throughout. A police officer's dash-cam is a plot point. This goes hand in hand with the presence of familiar, comforting brand names and the small town setting. The characters in “Weapons” are surrounded by modern convenience and have their every move recorded. It still doesn't protect their children. It doesn't make their law enforcement any more productive. It does not actually make them feel any safer. This is, perhaps, where the lingering undercurrent about school shootings and conspiracy theories actually build to something. That there is something very wrong in the American psyche, that violence and tragedy can still strike at any point despite all the measures we've taken to make ourselves feel more comfortable 

Another element “Weapons” has in common with Creggor's debut is that, as soon as the story is resolved, the film more-or-less ends. That, combined with the naturalistic way it hints at back story and focuses on being a swiftly paced horror story over any thematic concerns, makes it feel like a very eighties style sort of movie. You can imagine both this and “Barbarian,” in different forms, being actually made in the seventies or eighties. (Instead of merely being an attempt to replicate that style, like most throwback films try to do.) Normally, that would be exactly my kind of thing but I left “Weapons” wanting just a little bit more. That's probably a sign of its high quality, that this two hour and nine minute long film felt like it could have been a little bit longer to me. If nothing else, if New Line Cinema ever gets around to actually making a new “A Nightmare on Elm Street” movie, Creggor's clear ability to get at the heart of darkness underneath a small town's pleasant exterior might make him the guy for the job. Instead, he's rebooting “Resident Evil” next. Anyway, “Weapons” will probably play a lot better for me on a second viewing but it's still definitely a very strong motion picture. [7/10]

OSCARS 2026: Sinners (2025)

 

(In an unlikely turn of events, the bloody vampire movie I reviewed last September has become the most nominated movie in Academy Award history. Please don't held it against me if I reuse my review I wrote last fall during this Oscars season, as my opinion is unlikely to have changed much since then.) 

 

Perhaps I was the last movie nerd in the world to underestimate Ryan Coogler. Establishing himself in 2013 with ripped-from-the-headlines indie drama "Fruitvale Station," Coogler would bring that same level of grit and sincerity to franchise filmmaking with "Creed." "Black Panther" would launch him into the stratosphere but, I felt anyway, at the sacrifice of a lot of his more intimate style. This was truer still of the superhero blockbuster's inevitable sequel, which wasn't all that distinguishable from any other mid-tier Marvel movie. A lot of smaller directors have signed up for massive studio projects with the understanding that this will give them a blank check to fund their weird, personal efforts from now on, an agreement that is increasingly unfulfilled. It seemed like Coogler was going down this same path but, actually, I'm a wrong idiot who is wrong. Coogler came back with "Sinners," a personal, gritty, weird genre hybrid that became a big hit earlier this year. It's also the best new release I've seen in theaters in a while and looks unlikely to be dethroned as my favorite film of 2025. Here, let me ramble about it some more. 

In Prohibition-era Mississippi, twins Elijah and Elias – nicknamed Smoke and Stack – return to their home town. Using money and booze stolen from the Chicago mob, they purchase an old sawmill with the intention of turning it into a juke joint. They recruit several locals to run it, including their cousin and aspiring bluesman Sammie, experienced musician Delta Slim, Smoke's ex-wife and Hoodoo practitioner Annie, and a pair of Chinese immigrant shop owners. The club attracts a crowd, including Stack's white passing ex-girlfriend Mary and Pearline, a singer Sammie takes a liking to. Sammie's soulful playing also draws the attention of Remmick, a white vampire recently chased into the area. Unable to enter the joint without an invitation, he begins to transform anyone who ventures outside into undead bloodsuckers. A tense standout ensues through the night that will change the lives of everyone involved. 

“Sinners” is a movie of great texture and I mean that almost literally. Cinematographer Autumn Durald Arkapaw shot the film on 65mm, ensuring a depth to the film's look that seems much more difficult to achieve with digital technology. Every shot of the film is filled with details, from the extremely precise period costumes to the production design that makes every setting seem like a real, lived-in location. This sense of specificity extends all throughout “Sinners.” The characters' backstories and pasts are discussed naturally through dialogue, suggesting a whole world existed before the viewer sees the events of the film. Whether its the fate of Smoke and Annie's unborn child, the brothers' history as World War I veterans or time working with the mob, or the personal recollections of Mary or Delta Slim's lives, it all adds up to create a world that feels utterly fully formed. The film embraces the shared histories of blues music, the lives of the black community in the American south, how Hoodoo grew out of African mysticism, and a vampire mythology all its own. This pairs extremely well with the Mississippi setting, where everyone is always glistening with a layer of sweat and dirt. 

Honestly, the first act of “Sinners,” devoted entirely to introducing this cast of extremely well realized characters and the world they inhabit, could have gone on longer than it did. However, “Sinners” is also a hard-hitting monster movie/action flick mash-up. A sequence in which the established cast stand in a circle and eat garlic cloves in order to determine if any of them are vampires is clearly inspired by the blood test scene in “The Thing.” It's a logical homage, as “Sinners” captures that same Carpenter-style mixture of anticipation and catharsis. Once the vampires outside become a known factor to the humans inside, “Sinners” turns into a tense stand-off. The undead taunt and interrogate the people inside, attempting to draw them out. This is broken up with some expertly crafted action sequences, of brilliantly devised gun fights, extremely physical close-quarters fights, and lots of spurting blood. When the vampires do make it inside the juke joint, it results in one of the most exciting climax in recent history. And “Sinners” isn't afraid of its status as a low-down horror flick either. These bloodsuckers flash their fangs, have eyes that glint in the darkness, leap eerily through the air, and grow increasingly more grotesque looking as the film goes on. 

By inserting its story into such a layered world, “Sinners” touches on about a dozen fascinating observations about America's racial history. Perhaps the most important idea present in the film is the power of music. Blues and black roots music is depicted as spiritually transcendent, melodies filled with so much emotion and power that they pierce spectral boundaries, time and space. This is fantastically depicted in a jaw-dropping sequence where Sammie's performance causes spectres from the past and present to appear throughout the juke joint. It's almost like a crash-course in the history of African-American music, its relevance as a spiritual and cultural force, all in one spellbinding scene. Coogler's film innately understands how music creates a ritual space and doesn't limit that power to any one culture or race. As wicked as the film's vampires are, they were once human too. Remmick is Irish, implied to be as old as the Roman invasion of the British isles. Him and his trope of vampires play bluegrass and dance jigs, equally driven into an almost religious frenzy by the sense of community created by this music. Their music is good too, the film acknowledging that all traditional folk music has the power to bring people together and create an otherworldly connection. 

Music also represents an escape from the troubles of daily life, of which people of color in the thirties south had more than their share of. The undead creatures pressing down on the juke joint feels, at times, like a metaphor for the pressures of existing as a black person in a racist, white-dominated society. The extended epilogue of “Sinners” establishes that, for a brief moment, they all had a taste of true freedom. Throughout the rest of the film, the white vampires – chased by Native American hunters in their introduction and, later, explicitly aligned with the Klu Klux Klan – attempt to force their way into this space. Remmick uses a need for money, a necessity to exist in a capitalistic culture, to try and worm in. At a key moment, a white authority figure similarly attempts to temps Smoke with an offer of money. Throughout the film, the evils of white Americans are aligned with greed and money. Some have read “Sinners” as arguing for racial essentialism when it seems much more critical of the cash-driven systems of repression than anything else. 

“Sinners” is an all-around work of infectious brilliance. The cast is excellent, lead by two extraordinary performances from Michael B. Jordan, who makes both brothers totally distinctive characters in their own right. Jack O'Connell and Miles Caton, as the villain and Sammie, should become stars based off this. Delroy Lindo, meanwhile, once again proves himself as one of Hollywood's most underappreciated character actors, turning Delta Slim into such a fully realized, funny, tragic character. After being a damn good ensemble piece and vampire thriller for most of its runtime, “Sinners” then turns into a bad-ass action film in its final act, featuring a shoot-out set piece for the ages. Nobody needs me to heap more praise on this one. Plenty of other folks have pinpointed it as the stand-out horror fusion of the year. On the big screen, it played out like a magnificent rush and proves just as thrilling, exciting, and touching upon re-watch. [9/10]

 

OSCARS 2025: Final Reviews Round-Up

2025 marks my sixth year completing the Oscar Death Race, a little community of people setting out to watch all of the films nominated at the Academy Awards that year. I also make an effort to review as many of the nominees as possible, to placate my own obsessive desires. This year, I got extremely close to doing full-blown reviews of each nominee. I probably could have done it to but, simply put, ran out of energy a little bit. Here are four reviews for films I saw prior to the Oscars. I'm recycling all of these from my Yearly Retrospective but decided to collect them here simply for ease. If you want to read my full review of "Alien: Romulus," you can find it here. See you tomorrow at 7PM EST for my yearly live-blog of the ceremony!

A Different Man

A film with a great many things to say about how we perceive ourselves, how we are perceived by others, what others truly value in us, what society values in appearances, and to what degree an author owes their inspiration anything. It's also a hilariously dark, surreal comedy with fantastic performances from Sebastian Stan and Adam Pearson that only grows more nightmarish as it goes on. I wasn't crazy about the crash-zooms in the cinematography though. 

Inside Out 2

The cliché of all modern CGI family films including a realistic depiction of a panic attack is fulfilled here, though at least it's a natural extension of the story's themes. The depiction of Anxiety is well done, the new emotion not being portrayed as a villain so much as an overwhelming overcorrection. The other new emotions mostly result in some cute jokes. Honestly, this sequel might be funnier than the first, thanks to some extremely amusing sight gags about Riley's secrets. Yet, much like the first, I still feel like the central metaphor is oddly strangled and the teenage girl isn't as fleshed-out as you'd expect considering the story takes place in her head.

Memoir of a Snail

I admire the grubby, hand-made quality to the stop-motion animation, as well as the grotesque-cute character designs. The script itself I'm less certain of. The entire film walks a very unsteady line towards sympathizing with its often depressed, mistreated characters and playing their eccentricities and misfortunes for dark laughs. The misery the characters experience is so non-stop that the film often feels like a slog on the wat to a hopeful, life-affirming ending.

The Wild Robot

By adding a little painterly smearing and naturalistic lighting, this is made so much prettier than it would've been otherwise. “The Wild Robot” definitely needs that additional visual flair, since its story – full of wacky animal sidekicks and an obvious moral about the challenges and compromises of parenting – is nothing especially new or novel. The dynamic between the titular machine and the gosling she adopts is still awfully adorable. Chris Sanders never doubts the emotions in his films, despite how formulaic they may be. This went almost its entire runtime without introducing a single person.

OSCARS 2025: The Substance (2024)

(Part of why Oscar season interests me so much is because my personal taste and the Academy's do not cross over very often. I like weirdo cult shit and trashy horror movies, not middle-brow prestige dramas and celebrity biopics. However, this year represents one of the rare cases where a movie specifically on my wavelength has become an award season front-runner. Despite featuring enough spurting blood, gross-out special effects, and warped latex to please any Fangoria reader, "The Substance" is nominated for several big Oscars. Since I watched and reviewed the film recently, I'm unlikely to have any new thoughts on it but, in the name of completion, here's my review of the film from last October once again. Excuse me for recycling.)

If you are willing to dig deep enough, every year is a good year for horror. Thinking more specifically, if you stay in touch with the indie scene and don't judge merely based on what is playing at the multiplexes, you're likely to find lots of fantastic offerings in any given year. However, 2024 has been an especially good year for indie horror at the box office. As I type this, an unrated gore-fest made entirely outside the studio system is hacking up the top ten. NEON and A24 continue to make break-through hits with smart marketing. Most recently, arthouse digital distributor MUBI has proven the power of buzz-worthy genre films at the box office with “The Substance,” which has become a word-of-mouth hit and stuck around in theaters far longer than niche pictures like this usually do. “The Substance” has already been hotly debated but the simple fact remains: People are seeing it and talking about it. I'm a little behind, as usual, but it's my turn to weigh in.

Elizabeth Sparkle was once the toast of Hollywood, with awards and fame to her name. That was a long time ago. Now, she hosts a morning exercise show that is slipping in the ratings. On account of producers desiring a younger star, her show is canceled. Feeling despondent, she receives a tip about a new product called the Substance. She must go to a secluded locker to retrieve the order, a dispassionate voice on the phone informing her of the product's rules. She injects herself and a younger, sexier version emerges from Elizabeth's back. Her original self rendered catatonic, the new and improved model – who takes the name Sue – immediately finds fame and success in Sparkle's old timeslot. The conditions of the Substance dictate that “Sue” must trade places with Elizabeth every other week. Hungry to be loved and adored more, Sue begins to bend the rules... Which immediately has gruesome, horrifying side effects.

“The Substance” comes to us from Coralie Fargeat, previously of “Revenge.” That film aggressively shook up the formula of the rape/revenge premise. Fargeat's latest attacks the systemic issues of youth, vanity, and women being disregarded by the entertainment industry with similar ferocity. The point it makes are not subtle. Shortly after Sparkle's introduction, the grotesque face of a shrieking male exec is shoved into the camera. In a later scene, he's scarfing down on shrimp in the most disgusting manner possible. Later, Fargeat cuts from a close-up of a woman's perfectly shaped buttocks to a less appealing male buttocks. In other words: Women are subjected to beauty standards that men simply don't have to deal with. This ties into other commonly observed points, about how women are judged much more harshly when aging, how women's values are attuned to their appearance, and how Hollywood is obsessed with beauty and abhors ugliness. These points are thrown at us via over-the-top satirical exaggeration. 

No, “The Substance” isn't subtle. However, Fargeat's film isn't merely taking potshots at the obvious inequalities we are all very aware of in Hollywood. Instead, this is a far more personal story about self-hatred. Sparkles – played by a fearless Demi Moore – obsesses over her own image as much as the industry does. She stares at her own body in the mirror. After getting a date with an old high school body, she smears her face with make-up over and over again before staying inside. After Sue – Margauret Qualey, a vision – emerges, Elizabeth begins to judge herself harsher than before. She sinks into self-destruction, resenting her better looking half. This is despite the mysterious voice on the phone assuring her that Sparkles and Sue are one. They are same person. However, Sparkles inability to love herself – an internalizing of Hollywood' brutal beauty standards – is ultimately what pushes her to more extreme actions. “The Substance” is an indictment of Hollywood's treatment of women but it explores that theme through the the more personal lens of self-hatred. 

Whatever criticism you can leverage at “The Substance's” lack of subtly, you can't deny that the film embraces it. Benajamin Kracun's cinematography is highly stylized. It switches between extreme close-ups and the characters standing in the distance amid the highly stylized sets. Gliding camerawork carries one scene into another, often paired with Raffertie's aggressive electronic dance score. That lends a propulsive effect to many of the sequences, often centering around Qualley's expertly sculpted gluteus maximus as she writhes and bounces about many scenes. As “The Substance” grows more grotesque, this directorial style begins to feel like a hammer to the head. Every gross-out hits with maximum strength between the carefully constructed editing and often unrelenting visuals. By the blood and pus filled finale, “The Substance” makes you feel properly assaulted, feeling like one hell of an experience. 

The fact that “The Substance” has crossed over to some degree of mainstream success is what surprises me the most. This movie is, ya know, pretty fucked-up. It attacks the body horror element with the same over-the-top vigor that is approaches its satire with. This results in one shockingly gross sequence after another. Notably images like multiple eyeballs swishing around inside one socket or a tumor appearing on an ass cheek is the movie only getting started. The emergence of a turkey leg seemed to be the nastiest scene... Until “The Substance” kicks further into gear in its second half, throwing one misshapen body part after another at us. By the finale, the film is reaching levels of spurting fluids and malformed flesh that would put a Troma movie to shame. It's over-the-top, vile, disgusting, and holy shit did I love it. That a movie can still make me wince is a sign that I appreciate it. 

Since the Discourse moves so quickly these days, a certain contingency has already decided that “The Substance” is overrated. Or that it's secretly sexist or that it's not feminist in the right ways. All the tiring ways the discussion of cinema has been reduced down to tweets and buzz words these days. That the movie might end up being an awards season contender – improbable as that seems to me, stranger things have happened – means we are only in the beginning of the great debate around “The Substance.” Whatever the consensus ends up being, it's safe to say I loved this one. Gross, endlessly stylized, very European, and a ride from beginning to end, “The Substance” certainly won't be a film I forget any time soon. [9/10]

OSCARS 2024: Final Reviews Round-Up

This marks my fifth year completing the Oscar Death Race. I'm still not at the point where both watching everything and writing full-length reviews of everything is realistic for me, I did manage to write full length reviews for 44 of the 53 nominated movies this year. (My review of "Society of the Snow" will be part of my J.A. Bayona Director Report Card, whenever that happens.) Here's capsule reviews of everything else! See you at the Live Blog!

The Boy and the Heron

Thank god we still have a master like Miyazaki around to gift us with these beautiful, detailed worlds. “The Boy and the Heron's” fantasy novel structure allows the director to reflect on themes like growth, acceptance, forgetting, ecological collapses, and archetypes Jungian and alchemic. Through it all, there's the unmissable sense of Miyazaki grappling with his own legacy and wondering if anyone can shoulder the burden. Of course, it's an absolutely gorgeous, incredibly creative fantasy as well. [9/10]

The Creator

Summarizes all of Gareth Edwards' strengths and weaknesses as a filmmaker. On one hand, this looks damn good. The cinematography has a vast, epic quality to it. The special effects and production design are fantastic, creating a lived-in version of the future that seems plausibly connected to our current world. On the other hand, the characters and story here are as stock-parts as can be. Charismatic as John David Washington is, he can only do so much to elevate a hero with yet another dead wife and baby to motivate him. You never feel anything for him or his relationship with his surrogate robot daughter. The themes and subtext are as warmed-over and obvious as can be, the movie essentially saying nothing about mankind's relationship with robots or each other. [5/10]

El Conde

Gorgeous black-and-white cinematography makes this one of the year's best looking movies. The first act, which dryly sets up an alternate history where Augusto Pinochet is a vampire, in-between brutal violence and darkly funny satire, is fantastic. Once it settles into being a slightly comedic story of family in-fighting and finances, it becomes less interesting. The last third features enough twists to keep my attention, even if this is never as strong as when taking a poetic or epic approach to its vampiric subject. I'm not Chilean, so I can't reflect on whether this is a tasteful or tactful treatment of real life butchery though. [8/10]

Elemental

Pixar tries their hand at a romantic-comedy and it's not half-bad. The chemistry between Ember and Wade is genuinely sweet. That allows many routine moments – the big romantic gesture to win her back, for example – feel a lot more earned. It helps that the conflict that inevitably breaks the two up is based in something more meaningful, the push-and-pull of wanting to please your parents but also live your own life, than the contrived melodrama usually seen in this genre. The animation is also lovely and the Element City setting allows for some clever sight gags. As a discussion about being a foreigner assimilating into a big city, I'm not sure the film has anything clever to say though. [6.5/10]

Four Daughters

The meta conceit, of having the real people and the actors playing them in re-enactments directly interacting, produces some interesting results. Olfa was not a good mother, though you do come to understand many of her actions. Overall, this is a good portrait of the delicate balance of dysfunction and deep emotional bonds that keep most families together. Once it becomes more of an issues doc, about how two of the sisters became radicalized, this bends more towards a tragic atmosphere. [6/10]

Golda

Approaches history as a chamber drama, focusing mostly on people in command centers and offices tersely discussing geopolitical moves and strategies. The result is that “Golda” is all about how the Yom Kippur War made one woman feel really bad. Perhaps not the most responsible direction to approach this story with, especially in light of recent events! Director Guy Nattiv is also fond of some extremely heavy-handed visual symbolism. Having said that, there is something weirdly captivating in the choice to shoot this biopic like a horror movie, with its vertigo-inducing camera angles and seasick close-ups. The performances are sturdy and, yeah, the make-up is pretty good. [6/10]

Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny

Maybe it lacks the magic of Spielberg. However, “Dial of Destiny” does provide geriatric Indiana Jones with a fitting send-off. There's a layer of regrets to Harrison Ford's performance, that grows more evident as the film goes on. Mads Mikkelsen makes a compelling, conniving villain. I like that this one makes the points that Nazis never really went away and we should always punch them. The McGuffin is an intriguing one, leading to some exciting action, ancient temple set-pieces, and a surprising finale. And you know what? I even like Indy's new sidekicks in this. [7/10]

Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One

I've somehow never seen a single “Mission: Impossible” movie before, so any meaning the callbacks to previous films or the characters' established history didn't mean anything to me. The plot is a largely unimportant MacGuffin hunt, so many of the exposition scenes are tedious. However, the cast is decent. Cruise and Atwell having decent chemistry and Pom Klementof is a good unhinged henchwoman. The action scenes are obviously the main attraction here. Some of the melee fights look a bit silly but the stunt work is generally excellent. I do admire the film's commitment to topping itself with more ludicrous set pieces. Guess I gotta watch the rest of these now? [7/10]

The Teacher's Lounge

As a thriller about how a single mistake can have oversized ramifications on your life and other people, this is often nerve-wracking. The music is very intense, the camera emphasizes the crushing smallness of the school rooms, and Leonie Benesch gives an excellent performance as a woman barely holding it together. One definitely feels like there's commentary here about the omnipresence of surveillance in our modern age and how easily so-called “cancel culture” can get out of control. I wish this actually had an ending though! [7/10]

OSCARS 2023: Final Reviews Round-Up

Once again, the night of the Oscars ceremony is here and I've just barely watched everything that was nominated. The fact that this is more than most of the actual Academy voters attempt does make me feel a little better. Here's my thoughts on everything else I've seen that I just didn't have the time or inclination to write a full review of. I previously reviewed "Black Panther: Wakanda Forever," "The Batman," "Avatar: the Way of Water," and "Pinocchio." If you're wondering where my review of "The Fabelmans" is, it'll go up whenever I finish my Steven Spielberg retrospective. Whenever that will be. Anyway, come back at 8:00PM EST for my annual live blog of the broadcast!

All That Breathes

The most effective element of this documentary is showing how polluted and torn apart by political turmoil New Delhi is. The opening shot of rats crawling over the streets, or the subtly conveyed growing pressure of national discontent, make those ideas clear. I do wish this unusually quiet film focused more on the inner life of the men determined to save these birds. We only get a little insight into their personal motivations and thoughts, via some too brief narration. Moreover, I wish this was about the birds themselves more. Ostensibly the main topic of this doc, the black kites feel pushed to the margins too often. [6/10]

Argentina, 1985

Handsomely produced courtroom drama with strong cinematography and solid pacing, that heats some totally expected emotional beats but makes everyone inspiring. Richardo Darin's lead performance is fantastic, the emotional heart of a story with many political ramifications. The testimonies of human rights abuse under the Military Junta's rule are harrowing, though I do wish a little more time was spent with the generals themselves, to give non-Argentinians a better idea of what our heroes were up against. [7/10]

Close

One of the best films I've ever seen about the masculine need for emotional and physical intimacy and the shame associated with showing it. So keenly observes the way boys invent hyper-macho personas for themselves to cover up any perceived vulnerabilities. The story only grows more heartbreaking as it goes along, until a deeply cathartic final scenes. The young actors are both fantastic and the filmmaking is unobtrusive. The symbolism of the flower farm might be a bit much but otherwise this was brilliant. [9/10] 

Empire of Light

Not the disaster I've read but it's definitely a bit muddled. Is this a movie about the magic of movies? Not really, as that element feels shoved in at the last minute. The reflections on race feel p
retty clumsy. When focused on Olivia Coleman's character and her struggles with mental illness, I found some things to like her. Coleman has an unhinged, manic monologue that struck me as pretty true to life. The romance story build around that plot point is cute, if never developed much. And Roger Deakins' cinematography is fucking gorgeous, the film aglow with warmth and an amazing use of light and shadows. [6/10]

Everything Everywhere All at Once

What I loved about this is how it handles massive themes, like feeling insignificant in the vastness of the universe or the ripple effects of every choice we make, alongside highly personal concepts, like the power of kindness or love connecting us all. This is tied to an amazingly zany sense of humor, always throwing increasingly wacky sight gags while wildly creative instincts direct every aspect of the story. An ode to the sheer scope of Michelle Yeoh's talent and a rebirth for Ke Huy Quan. [9/10]

Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris

Well, this was adorable. Lesley Manville makes for a protagonist you can root, if only because her actions seems so genuinely sweet. Seeing her break out of her shell and come into her own is worthwhile. Yes, those Dior gowns look splendid and the movie, in general, has a perfectly presented and charming appearance. Every single event that happens in the story can be easily predicted from minute one but the entire concoction is so fluffy and nice to look at that you don't mind at all. [7/10]

The Quiet Girl

The Academy must really love the Irish countryside this year! This is an incredible sweet and quiet film, watching its characters go about their lives with no judgment or contrivances. Watching the titular character slowly be accepted into the hearts of a new family are touching, in a soft way. The performances are down-to-earth and realistic. It's also almost unbearably slow at times, no matter how touching it ends up being. [7/10]

RRR

The manliest movie of the year, this is pure entertainment from beginning to end. The over-the-top action scenes continuously top themselves in terms of ridiculousness. A musical number/dance-off in the first half ranks among the most joyous cinematic moments of 2022. The bro-mance at the film's center is hilariously overwrought and amusing. Undeniably jingoistic, with its cartoonishly evil colonialist villains and ra-ra final song, but I admire its spirit. The three-hour run time sags a little in the middle but it perks back up for the absolutely bonkers finale. [9/10]

The Sea Beast

Chris Williams is really repeating himself here. Red looks and acts a lot like Toothless, while Blue was clearly inspired by Stitch. Yet the giant monsters are still the highlight of this motion picture. It's certainly not the characters, who remain shallow sketches with utterly generic arcs. The story is thematically muddled, with too much pontificating about peace and heroes, while the exact rules of this world never solidify. (This is especially true about a very confusing sequence involving a witch.) [5/10]

Turning Red

Anybody who thinks the amazingly specific sense to the setting, characters, and story is anything but a huge benefit to it is a dense motherfucker. I love so many of the animation quirks here, the details in the face. The influence of anime and manga led a special zing to several key moments. The relationship between the central four characters is totally delightful. The emotional climax to the mother/daughter story arc is extremely well done. Generally speaking, this is a really funny, beautifully animated, breezy flick. Oh, and the songs are really catchy too. [9/10]

OSCARS 2022: Final Reviews Round-Up

For the third year in a row, I'm happy to say I've seen every movie nominated for an Oscar. I was really hoping I'd be able to do full-length reviews for each of them but, as is too often the case, just ran out of time. I did manage to write about more 43 of the 53 nominated films, which is a personal record for me. (I reviewed "No Time to Die," "Raya and the Last Dragon," and "Shang-Chi" last year.) However, just to make the effort worthwhile, I've once again written capsule reviews of everything else I saw. All of this is in preparation for my Live Blog - the twelfth year I've done that! - which I'll be doing as the ceremony unfolds, which I have no doubt will be an absolute fiasco. Anyway, on with the reviews:

Cruella

Disney squeezes one of their most amusingly devious animated villains through the superhero origin story meat grinder. This includes a secret identity, a supervillain to fight, and a big dramatic reveal in the second act. The already ridiculous story gets increasingly unlikely as it goes along. The soundtrack choices and references to the cartoon are both painfully obvious. Emma Stone and Emma Thompson, along with Craig Gillepsie's energetic direction and some admittedly spiffy costumes, give it their all. But it's not enough to justify this crass studio product's existence. [5/10]

Cyrano

Joe Wright knows how to direct the hell out of an sword fight or a dance number. Which makes it odd that so much of this romance feels strangely passionless. The songs aren't bad but ultimately prove forgettable. Peter Dinklage is well cast in the titular part except for the fact that he can't sing. In fact, most of the cast is made up of non-singers and it's really distracting. Ultimately, this is a nice try to blend indie rock songs, respectful costume drama, and sweeping romance but doesn't make for a satisfying whole. [6/10]

Documentary Shorts:

Audible

Textbook definition of a short that probably should've been a feature. “Audible” shoves in so many topics and ideas into its forty minutes run time. What begins as the story of the struggles a deaf high school football team face soon grows to touch upon mental illness and teenage suicide, sexuality and relationships, and the main boy's relationship with his estranged father. While it's compellingly assembled, well directed, and especially good at putting us inside the mind of deaf youths, many of the other topics are not really explored in any meaningful way. [6/10]

Lead Me Home

Bracing depiction of the homelessness crisis in the United States. The interviews and footage of people forced into these desperate situations are absolutely heartbreaking. The brief scenes devoted to the "Not in My Backyard" crowd will make you want smack someone. Yet this still comes off as a bit shallow. (Which makes it ethically dicey, considering the subject matter.) I think focusing on just one story, instead of short slices of a whole swath of folks, would've helped this feel more substantial. This definitely needed fewer drone shots of the city streets while sad music plays and no scenes of politicians talking about how hard it is to solve this problem. [6/10]

The Queen of Basketball

Lusia Harris strikes the viewer as an utterly delightful human being. She's all smiles, laughing frequently, as she describes her achievements. She's incredibly humble, seeming more like a small town grandmother than a basketball champ and Olympian. She's doesn't linger on the question of what might have been, had she came along when women's sports were more prominent. Which allows this short to capture a place in not just sports history but women's history too. [7/10]

Three Songs for Benazir

An intimate look at life in an Afghanistan camp for people displaced by war, following a young man who wishes to join the army. What most strikes me about this short is how funny the guy is, how much he loves his wife, the joy he feels when their first child is born. Despite the absolute poverty they live in, they find a degree of happiness just by being together. This makes the ending, which jumps ahead four years, all the more effecting because it shows keenly and bluntly how war and limitations effects the lives and dreams of young people more than most. [8/10]

When We Were Bullies

A guy made a movie about a kid he bullied in elementary school obviously to absolve himself of the guilt he felt for these actions. He then changed his mind about including an interview with the guy, making this documentary feel like it doesn't have an ending, and concludes by telling this person the short was never about him anyway. I enjoy trying to unravel the mental gymnastics necessary to figure out why the fuck this filmmaker thought that was okay. If you look at the entire short as a self-aggrandizing and incredibly half-assed apology, it becomes an amusing examination of the psyche of the director. That does feature some insight into how and why bullying happens and a quirky visual style. [7/10]

The Hand of God

The first half of this is a frequently absurd comedy about extremely Italian topics such as having a huge and weird family, being horny, and loving soccer. At almost exactly the half-way point, the protagonist suffers a personal tragedy that triggers a severe tonal shift. That's pretty interesting but this still felt kind of shapeless to me. Beautiful cinematography and interesting individual scenes - like the virginity loss scene or the bear-related prank - are pretty memorable. [6/10]

House of Gucci

Ridley Scott plays this story of a rich family in-fighting like an opera, which often veers towards full-blown camp. Every effects a ridiculous Italian accent, with Jared Leto's make-up covered performance being especially over-the-top. The script is highly episodic, with far too much time devoted to squabbling over stock shares, to the point that the climatic act-of-murder almost feels like an afterthought. This leads to a tonally uncertain and overlong motion picture. [5/10]

Luca

Pixar in slice-of-life mode, it turns out, really works for me. The story here, of friendship and simple life goals, is so lovely and heartfelt. The characters, both in their designs and personalities, are adorable. Watching these three misfits grow and adventure together is so endearing. The animation is utterly gorgeous. And it's all so fantastically Italian. The narrative may be derivative in some regards but that did nothing to prevent me from enjoying it. [9/10]

The Mitchells Vs. the Machines

The expressive, multi-media animation style provides a kinetic energy that carries this one a long way, supporting a lot of manic humor and nicely cartoon-y character designs. The Mitchells are mostly a pretty lovable group, with the dinosaur-obsessed son being my favorite. This also feels like one of the few big budget studio films to understand the internet. It's way too fucking long though and some of the gags are repeated far too much. [7/10]

Director Report Card: David Fincher (2020)

12. Mank

On the surface, a biographic film about beloved Hollywood screenwriter Herman J. Mankiewicz probably seems like blatant Oscar bait. There's nothing the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Science loves to celebrate more than the history of (American) film. And yet, quite unexpectedly, “Mank” is a personal project for David Fincher. His father, Jack Fincher, began writing the script thirty years ago. It was a passion project for David's dad, who died in 2003. The director previously almost made the movie in 1997, with Kevin Spacey and Jodie Foster set to star. That version stalled and it was for the better. Fincher would finally bring the long developing project to the theater screens – or Netflix menus anyway – last year.

In 1940, RKO wunderkind Orson Welles was given complete creative freedom to make whatever movie he wanted. And the movie he wanted to make was “Citizen Kane.” He recruited Herman J. Mankiewicz, a known Hollywood hellraiser, to write it. Recovering from a broken leg and writing via dictation, Mankiewicz has sixty days to complete the script. As he works on the story, he reflects on his past. On his time working on the M-G-M back lot, where he butted heads with studio executive Louis B. Mayer and newspaper magnet William Randolph Hearst... Who would provide direct inspiration for Mank's script. 

“Mank” is a film overflowing with love for the cinematic form. From the opening minutes, Fincher shows his love and fidelity to film history. Cigarette burns appear in the corner of the screen before scene transitions. As Mank remembers his past, words from a screenplay appears on-screen to establish the time and place. The story isn't just about the making of a movie but also indulges in the cinematic language of the forties. Fedoras, classy dames, and lightning-fast dialogue co-exist alongside slightly chunky montages, antiquated titles, and wonky rear projection car rides. “Mank” isn't just a homage to “Citizen Kane” but to all forms of classic cinema.

The film's greatest homage to the golden age of cinema is Erik Messerschmidt's utterly gorgeous cinematography. “Mank” is shot in crisp black-and-white. The lights filter through the shades or glow from fire places in all the perfect ways. It's notable that the scenes set in 1940, as Mank is composing “Kane,” are lit in a more naturalistic – though no less gorgeous – way. The flashbacks, meanwhile, are painted in this film noir-esque paintbrush. This is another way “Mank” speaks to the power of the silver screen. Films are like dreams and memories, projected straight from our subconscious into theaters. “Mank” perfectly understands this, putting together amazing images to subtly presents the divide in its story.

Another pitch perfect homage to “Mank's” era is the fantastic score. Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross' score is full of foreboding pounding piano notes, ominous strings, and mournful horns as intentional callbacks to “Kane's” widely famous score. Yet there are also more playful moments in the score, with almost mischievous sounding notes and melodies or boozy bass. When the time comes, Ross and Reznor also up the dreamier sounds, mostly during Mank's creative moments. Not only does the music bring “Kane” to mind, without directly quoting it, it also so perfectly sounds like the 1940s to me. Maybe not the real forties but at least the one that exists in the old movies. 

More than anything else, “Mank” is a beautiful homage to a real life hero. Herman J. Mankiewicz was a silver-tongued man that was always ready to speak truth to power. All throughout the film, he takes every opportunity he can to call people like Mayer and Hearst on their bullshit in his own sly manner, in such a way that sometimes people don't notice he's insulting them. In the final act, Mank becomes representative of every other unrepresented talent in Hollywood. As he demands to receive credit for writing “Kane,” he even stands up to his own director, the man writing his checks. Mank represents someone determined to stand up for what's right, even when it costs him.

Bringing Mankiewicz to life is Gary Oldman. Oldman is the perfect person to embody Mank's acerbic wit. Oldman has the ideal handle on the fast-paced dialogue. He cuts into every one of Mank's witty turns-of-phrase with the perfect amount of sardonic glee. Even in his most self-destructive moments, like the titanic drunken rant that provides the film's climax, Oldman retains that fantastic sense of humor that makes Mank so goddamn likable. Yet he has quiet moments too, self-deprecating moments, that expose the softer side of this man. Say what you will about Oldman as a man but he's a terrific actor. This may be his best performance yet, combining his gift for bombast with a more restrained abilities. 

Of course, like all great men on the silver screen, Mank has his demons too. He's an alcoholic, constantly struggling to stay dry. He's depicted as blind drunk multiple times throughout the story. Even while recovering from the broken leg, he convinces the house caretaker to slip him bottles of lodium. He's also a compulsive gambler, making bets on random coin tosses and leaves falling out of trees. Yet these flaws cover up insecurities, like the guilt he feels over falling to prevent a friend's suicide. Or a time his sarcasm backfires on his stenographer. This is not the only way he tries to make-up for past mistakes. He also personally paid to transports the same housekeeper's village out of Nazi Germany, an act he insists on keeping secret. He was, to put it simply, a complicated man.

While Oldman's Mank obviously dominates the film, he is backed up by an impressive supporting cast too. Amanda Seyfried has never been better utilized here, as Marion Davis. Hearst's girlfriend of the time, Seyfried is utterly delightful. She can wrestle with the stylized dialogue while being perfectly charming the entire time. Lily Collins is well-utilized as the stern but fragile counterpoint to the exaggerated figures of Mank's memories. Charles Dance's deeply intoning voice, used sparingly, makes Hearst a towering and intimidating figure. And Tom Burke does a damn good Orson Welles impersonation, who is smartly kept as this mythic off-screen icon for most of the movie.

A film about screenwriters in the thirties and forties probably doesn't seem like a very relevant story to our modern world. Yet “Mank” also reflects on our own times in interesting ways. A subplot in the film involves the upcoming election between socialist Upston Sinclair and conservative Frank Merriam. Merriam demands that M-G-M produce propaganda reels to discredit Sinclair. The testimonial in the news reel are actors, a black man and a German cast as the Sinclair supporters. This is, in other words, fake news. Fincher and his team make sure to target the real root behind these deceptions. Millionaires like Hearst put the pressure on people to enforce their worldview, to make sure who they approve of stay in power. This is made all the more apparent in a shared anecdote from a supporting character about being physically intimidated by Boss Tweed goons as a boy. The rich use force – intellectual or literal force – to get what they want.

From a particular angle, “Mank” probably seems like one great big reference to “Citizen Kane.” The film is actually pretty subtle about this. Obviously, the musical score and the visuals are heavily inspired by the Welles' classic. Yet Fincher makes sure to include several specific homages to the original movie. Such as a bottle falling from Mank's hand mimicking the infamous snow globe image from “Kane.” Motifs that were present in that film, like flashing light bulbs or mirrors, reappear here as well. The shadow drowned mansion that is the film's climatic location obviously owes a debt to Kane's Xanadu. Yet “Mank” is far more than the “Citizen Kane” fan-film it sounds like on paper.

That Fincher would make a feature length homage to “Citizen Kane” is, in retrospect, not too surprising. One can see shades of Welles' classic in the black-and-white images of so many of Fincher's early music videos. Finding where “Mank” fits into the thematic concerns of Fincher's career is a little trickier. There's no grand conspiracy or criminal masterminds at work here. Instead, “Mank” continues to show the director's interest in exploring the psychology behind difficult people. Mank isn't a mysterious killer, a plotting femme fatale, or a cold-hearted tech billionaire... But he is yet another Fincher protagonist that is uncompromising in his vision, that damn near destroys himself as he moves forward with a single-minded determination towards his goal.

Debuting among much hype, “Mank” had a somewhat lukewarm reception among a lot of critics and especially the Film Twitter/Letterboxd tastemakers crowd. I don't know if people were expecting more from Fincher or if a story about old white guys seemed especially irrelevant in 2020. (Though it's not) The movie still managed to grab the most of all Academy Award nominees this year, winning several in the technical categories. In ten years or so, I think “Mank” will be better received. It's a gorgeous and brilliant homage not just to “Citizen Kane,” not just to all of movie-making, but especially to the irrepressible spirits that make this business we call show possible. [Grade: A]

David Fincher has been attached to an almost countless number of unrealized projects over the years. I guess that's what happened when you're one of the most respected filmmakers in Hollywood. A few come to mind for me as especially interesting: Adaptations of comic books, like Frank Miller's “Hard Boiled” or a new version of “Heavy Metal,” or classic novels, like Arthur C. Clark's “Rendezvous with Rama.” Around the time he was working on “Zodiac,” he was attached to a comic-inspired film about another uncaught serial killer: The Cleveland Torso Murderer. 

Even though his movies aren't exactly known for mindless thrills, the director has still been attached to would-be blockbusters as well. Such as a big budget Disney movie based on “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea,” a new version of “Cleopatra” with Angelina Jolie, and even a sequel to “World War Z.” (One assumes Fincher got attached to that as a favor to his buddy Brad Pitt.)

None of these came to fruition, so whose to say what will actually be next for the director? Yet it's increasingly looking like his next project will re-team him with Andrew Kevin Walker. It's another off-beat comic adaptation called “The Killer,” inspired by a French comic, about the life story of a hitman. After backing the series “Mindhunters” and “Mank,” Netflix seems ready to back the bill for that long-simmering project as well. I'm looking forward to it, as this project renewed my interest in the filmmaker. Go figure, this David Fincher guy is actually pretty talented.