Reviews

When everything gets taken away from one's life, it must be nearly impossible to find something that provides a reason to carry on. So it is for the incarcerated, individuals faced with an uncertain future of indeterminate duration. And, under conditions as difficult as these, realistically speaking, one can't help but wonder whether rehabilitation will actually pan out as a viable option. But, for some, there's hope through a seemingly unlikely source - the arts, as chronicled in this fact-based drama about the participants in the inmate theater program at New York's Sing Sing maximum security prison. With a cast featuring both professional actors and current and former members of this gifted incarcerated troupe, viewers witness the highs and lows of these men as they strive to bring meaning - and hope - to their time behind bars. Director Greg Kwedar's second feature provides an up-close look at the lives of these aspiring actors, both in terms of their on-stage pursuits and their everyday lives under conditions most of us probably can't even begin to imagine. While the picture's narrative is admittedly a little thin and meandering at times, that's more than made up for in the film's superb performances, led by Colman Domingo, Clarence Maclin, Paul Raci and Sean San Jose, who, like virtually everyone else in this fine ensemble, bring an unmatched depth to their characters and interpersonal relationships, easily among the best work in these areas that I've seen in quite some time. In doing so, this offering also takes audiences on a rollercoaster ride of emotions, from uplifting joys to heartfelt disappointments, revealing the tremendous strength of character driving these individuals. That's particularly poignant knowing that many of those in this production can relate to their circumstances from firsthand experience, thereby infusing this release with a level of unabridged authenticity seldom seen on the big screen. For its efforts, "Sing Sing" stands a good chance of being one of 2024's awards season contenders, especially in the acting categories, showing us what's possible when we allow our passions to surface for their own sake, especially when we have nothing to lose by doing so, a genuine source of inspiration from whom we might least likely expect it.

In moviemaking, sadly, there can be a problem with going to the well too many times, and this latest installment in one of filmdom's better cinematic franchises verges on proving just that. This offering's predecessors (2016, 2018) significantly distinguished themselves from the kind of fare typically found in the superhero genre with their outrageously bawdy humor, hilarious sight gags and relentlessly maverick attitude. This time out, however, director Shawn Levy's latest effort is a decidedly hit or miss affair, with an often-incoherent script that feels like it was cobbled together from a collection of leftover parts, some of which work and some of which don't. I suppose that's not entirely surprising from a screenplay that was penned by four different writers, making me wonder how much consensus was in place in compiling the finished product. Moreover, this film appears to be intended to fold the Deadpool franchise into the X-Men franchise, an intriguing idea that, regrettably, is handled rather clumsily (as has often been the case with many other recent fusion offerings in the Marvel Universe). And, if all that weren't bad enough, this release gives short shrift to the colorful cast of supporting players that made the Deadpool films so funny, original and enjoyable, relegating them to little more than cameos in favor of walk-ons by a host of other MCU characters (some of them remarkably obscure, I might add) in an attempt to help cement the franchise cross-pollination going on here. It makes for awkward storytelling at times, especially for viewers who might not be familiar with these lesser-known figures, some of which are drawn from Marvel source material unrelated to its big screen offerings. To the picture's credit, it features yet another stellar turn by Ryan Reynolds as the off-color protagonist, as well as its share of hilarious bits (without a doubt the franchise's historically strongest suit), including a number of unabashed, razor-sharp asides referencing off-screen developments related to the studios that produced these films and the actors who have appeared in them. These strengths notwithstanding, however, this is a production that has sadly watered down the elements that best made this franchise work in favor of an overarching programming agenda that simply doesn't serve this film or the series particularly well. The creators would have served themselves and viewers better by sticking with what works and the basics of good storytelling than trying to force an issue for the sake of future productions that may or may not work over the long term. This has been a noticeable downfall in the quality of many of the most recent Marvel Universe releases, and I'd truly hate to see this franchise befall a similar fate.

In the interest of full disclosure, I must confess that this long-delayed sequel to its 1996 blockbuster predecessor is not nearly as awful or hokey as I thought it would be. As a prototypical summertime popcorn movie, director Lee Isaac Chung's latest hits every item on the checklist of requirements for what such a release should do, and, in that sense, it's admittedly rather fun - to a point. With that said, however, there's only so much belief that one can realistically suspend while watching this often-preposterous tale, one that frequently pushes the limits of silliness and credibility. As expected, the tornadoes are the real stars of this picture (and, arguably, justifiably so), while the film's clichéd, largely monodimensional characters and often-clunky, highly implausible narrative take a dutiful back seat to what clearly (and deservedly) lies front and center. That's not to say these other elements are completely overshadowed, but their inherently predictable qualities and general lack of imagination fail to set this film apart as something genuinely different, particularly from its precursor. That dearth of innovation is especially apparent, for example, where good ole boy storm chaser Tyler Owens (Glen Powell) is concerned, whose testosterone-soaked persona makes him look more like a reckless, simple-minded yokel than a character to be legitimately taken seriously as someone who might actually know something about cutting-edge meteorology. At the same time, though, by employing these qualities where Powell's character is concerned, I'd contend that maybe the film should have played them up more, transforming this offering into more of a campy romp, an approach that might have helped to distinguish the picture more than haplessly trying to make it into something to be taken so seriously. In any event, "Twisters" may not be the disaster that it could have been, but, as disaster movies go, it could have been better with a little less predictability, a lot less cliché and considerably more originality.

Ever watch a movie that isn't what it should have been? Such is the case with writer-director Amei Wallach's third feature documentary, which is supposed to be an account of the US government-backed campaign to capture the grand prize for painting at the 1964 Venice Biennale, the world's most influential art exhibition. The thinking behind this effort was to showcase the supposedly superior nature of the nation's art and culture, one in a series of comparable American propaganda initiatives aimed at winning over the hearts and minds of the citizens of the world at the height of the Cold War. The plan here was to secure top honors for the works of artist Robert Rauschenbach (1925-2008), one of the most influential innovators of the emerging pop art movement, who was best known at the time for his "combines," three-dimensional creations that straddled the line between painting and sculpture. This venture thus helped enable the US to become a major player on the international arts scene and did much to change the ways that fine art was exhibited, marketed and appreciated. The problem with this film, though, is that it frequently deviates from its stated intent; its unfocused storyline often jumps about wildly, straying from the thrust of the narrative. In fact, the picture actually works best - and ultimately would have worked better overall - as a biography of Rauschenbach. Indeed, that's the story that should have been told here, given that the artist's life and career are far more interesting than this largely anemic chronicle of the exhibition, a tale that often comes across as scattered, shallow, gossipy and not especially insightful. In short, this is a project that should have been significantly retooled right from the outset. While a segment about the Biennale certainly should have been included as part of such a hypothetical production, there's not enough worthwhile material to make it into a standalone work of its own (at least based on what's presented here). A biography of the artist, on the other hand, would have made for a release worth watching, especially since 'Taking Venice" frequently veers off onto tangents about its principal that are much more engaging than what the film is supposed to be about. In watching this offering, I was reminded of an anecdote I heard in one of my journalism school classes: A cub reporter was assigned to cover a speech by a public official but returned from the event with nothing to report. When his editor asked him about it, the young journalist said there was no story to tell, because the official didn't give his talk, having been shot by a gunman in the audience. Now there's a message the filmmaker here obviously should have taken to heart.

Few Hollywood productions have been as utterly prescient as director Sidney Lumet's cinematic masterpiece "Network" (1976), a chillingly serious satire about the television business in the 1970s and where it was ultimately headed in years to come. Written by TV pioneer Paddy Chayefsky, this winner of four Oscars on 10 total nominations provides a comical but cynically disturbing look inside the workings of a fictitious American television network. In telling this story, the film eerily forecast the direction this medium would take in the decades that followed with remarkable accuracy, stunningly predicting such developments as the tabloidization of TV, the consolidation of media ownership, the impact of foreign influence and investment, and the dumbing down, sensationalism and line-blurring of its content in both its entertainment and journalistic programming. It also nailed developments outside the television business with great clarity by focusing on the pivotal role that TV played (and would come to play) in those occurrences. And, even though it's something of a nostalgic time capsule of the period in which it was filmed, the picture has held up remarkably well, even unwittingly providing viewers with an ironic and unsettling metaphor for the ubiquitous rise of social media (with TV serving as a stunningly fitting stand-in). Chayefsky's Academy Award-winning script is positively brilliant, epitomizing what good screenwriting can (and should) be. And its casting is about as good as it gets, earning Oscars for the performances of Faye Dunaway, Peter Finch and Beatrice Straight, along with well-deserved nominations for William Holden and Ned Beatty and noteworthy accolades for Robert Duvall and Marlene Warfield. In fact, I'm stunned that this offering lost out to "Rocky" for best picture and that nominee Lumet was passed over for the best director award. Those oversights aside, however, I was nevertheless privileged to view this offering at a retrospective screening in honor of the filmmaker's 100th birthday to a nearly sold-out audience. I'm pleased to see that this celluloid gem still garners so much viewer attention nearly 50 years after its release and that it's attracting the interest of moviegoers of all ages. This is an absolute must-see for avid cinephiles, as well as highly recommended viewing for anyone who truly wants a poignant, insightful look at what's truly going on in the world around them, particularly when it comes to the workings of said world and the selective filtering of information about it. "Network" just might deservedly open a few eyes - and raise quite a few eyebrows at the same time.

Many of us have experienced situations in life that have left us wondering "what might have been," especially in matters of romance. And sometimes these scenarios can linger in our psyche for a lifetime, gnawing away at us and potentially leaving us with feelings of profound regret. Some of us, though, vow not to succumb to such disappointment, taking action to resolve these matters before it's too late. Such is the case of a 75-year-old Icelandic man (Egill Ólafsson) suffering from the onset of dementia during the early days of the COVID pandemic. With the clock running out, his health faltering and stringent quarantine measures being put into place, he's nevertheless desperate to learn what happened to the love of his life, a beautiful young Japanese immigrant (Koki) he met 51 years earlier while his younger self (Pálmi Kormákur) was living in London. After a brief, passionate love affair, she suddenly vanished and returned to Japan without an explanation, an event that has haunted him ever since. He decides to search for her before health and travel restrictions prevent him from doing so, an impulsive journey that takes him back to London and then on to Japan to find out what happened. To say much more would reveal too much about the secrets driving this compelling romance/mystery, suffice it to say, though, that the protagonist's tale is an engaging one, told through an absorbing story line deftly peppered with flashbacks to different points in the characters' lives. In telling this story of love and intrigue, writer-director Baltasar Kormákur presents a colorful mix of genuinely original characters in a variety of circumstances not depicted on the big screen before. Admittedly, the pacing could stand to be stepped up in a few places (an outcome that could have been accomplished with some judicious editing), and further enhancement of the back story and character development might have provided more meaningful depth to the overall narrative. However, given the captivating trail of bread crumbs that the filmmaker doles out for viewers, this heartfelt release leaves audience members continually wondering what's coming next. And, in doing so, the picture serves up a number of little-known, eye-opening cultural revelations that add spice and diversity to a genre that seldom ventures into such unfamiliar territory, an objective carried out with a tremendous sense of warmth without becoming unduly sentimental. In my view, this is the picture that the vastly overrated "Past Lives" (2023) was trying to be (and could have been), one that entertains, enlightens and educates all at the same time while providing audiences with a tale that's sure to tug at the heartstrings - and shows us how "what might have been" could have actually been brought into being.

When testing a new technology, one might realistically think that its creators should be able to evaluate its effectiveness after a reasonable number of evaluations, such as, say, several dozen trial runs. But, if that's genuinely the case, then why did it take American nuclear weapons developers 928 tests to do figure out that their devices indeed worked? That's not an unreasonable question, but it's one of many such issues raised in this often-shocking documentary from directors Douglas Brian Miller and Mark Shapiro. According to the film, between 1951 and 1992, the US government detonated 100 aboveground and 828 underground nuclear weapons at the Nevada Nuclear Testing Grounds, with fallout from these blasts spreading downwind from the detonation site (and not just in the immediate vicinity). This relentless onslaught of tests thus earned the US the dubious distinction of having experienced the heaviest bombardment of atomic devices on the planet. This weapons research subsequently affected a wide range of the population, from resident Native Americans to Hollywood movie crews working in nearby desert filming locales to average citizens far removed from the site of the explosions, nearly all of whom were disparagingly and uncaringly looked upon as expendable "for the sake of national security." The resulting widespread environmental damage and devastating public health effects are still being felt to this day, ramifications that are likely to be around for many, many years to come. And, to add insult to injury, through a carefully orchestrated campaign of propaganda and disinformation, the public has been misled for decades regarding the severity of this calamity. The film details all of these issues, both on the macro level and in a variety of personal case studies, through a variety of recent interviews and a wealth of archive material (including a number of now-laughable government-sponsored films), all narrated by actor Martin Sheen. While the contents of a few of this documentary's segments could have been a little better organized, the magnitude of these troubling revelations is quite astounding, particularly in terms of how much this story has been downplayed and the extent of lies that have been systemically perpetrated over the years. And don't become complacent in thinking that this is all in the past: The film reveals that present-day proponents of this type of testing would like to see the current moratorium against them ended in favor of a new round of experiments. And, if that's not unsettling enough to get our attention, I don't know what is. Do watch this.

Alternative "family" structures have been around for some time now, and they've assumed a variety of forms, both domestically and overseas, as well as in their essential composition. And, in a number of cases, it has taken some trial and error to figure out what works best for these diverse groupings, depending on the various factors that characterize the individuals involved. Such is the case in this profile of a multi-ethnic, mostly LGBTQ+ household in Skopje, North Macedonia that struggles to find a harmonious footing when stricken by a tragedy involving a family matriarch (Alina Serban). Those left behind (Anamaria Marinca, Vladimir Tintor, Samson Selim) must figure out how to regroup, particularly when it comes to the care of a belligerent adolescent (Mia Mustafa) and her sweet, young, surprisingly worldly half-sister (Dzada Selim). It's especially challenging for those in charge, given that they're not terribly experienced at (nor overly interested in) the responsibility for such matters. They truly find themselves engaged in a crash course of "housekeeping for beginners," one that finds them with one foot each in the middle class world of Skopje and in the impoverished world of nearby Shutka, an enclave of Roma (a.k.a. "Gypsy") culture. Writer-director Goran Stolevski's third feature outing provides an intriguing look at life in locales that have not received much cinematic attention, depicted through the eyes of an eclectic mix of characters living lives far different from what one typically finds in most conventional households. This domestic comedy-drama gets off to a somewhat rocky start, mainly due to a failure in identifying the nature of the relationships among the principals, and a narrative that can be rather episodic at times, with resolutions to its multiple story threads that feel incomplete or end abruptly (most notably in the final act). Viewers probably would have benefitted from some additional information about the ethnic backgrounds of the characters, too, given that many viewers are likely unfamiliar with the cultures involved. However, once the picture starts settling down and finding its rhythm, this release definitely gets stronger and more involving as it progresses, touching audiences profoundly, given that the situations that arise are often universal in nature, no matter what structure a family unit takes. "Housekeeping for Beginners" definitely has its strengths and touching moments; it's a little disappointing, though, that there aren't more of them. Greater clarification and consistency in the storytelling would have done this offering a world of good in its depiction of a world otherwise seldom seen.

Sometimes a story is so big and involved that it's difficult to get a handle on it. That can be quite a challenge for even the most adept documentarians and investigative reporters, no matter how eager or adept they may be in taking on such an ambitious project. And that, unfortunately, is the case with the latest offering from director Gabriela Cowperthwaite in her eight-year-long collaboration with journalist Nathan Halverson of The Center for Investigative Reporting. In essence, the film seeks to identify and characterize the new flashpoints underlying emerging geopolitical conflicts. Just as those in recent years have been driven by the compulsion to secure valuable energy supplies, today's budding battlegrounds are once again tied to acquiring access to precious resources - in this case, food and water, along with the aquifers, agricultural land and processing facilities needed to yield these commodities. Evidence of the desperate, growing need for obtaining these materials has already begun to surface - albeit not always overtly - in such incidents as the Arab Spring and even the War in Ukraine. And, because of this developing crisis, those interested in locking down these resources have started scrambling to acquire them, primarily clandestinely, in regions where they're most plentiful. These efforts have been spearheaded by multinational corporations and global financial institutions in cooperation with countries that are experiencing, or have historically experienced, critical food and water shortages, such as China, Russia, Venezuela and the nations of the Middle East. And, to help ensure the success of these ventures, they have enlisted the support of mercenary muscle to achieve their goals. High-profile targets, primarily in Africa and even parts of the US, have come under growing scrutiny, unscrupulously grabbed from their rightful owners and leaving them destitute as a result. Needless to say, this is an incredibly complicated story, one that's difficult to tell, and, regrettably, that's somewhat apparent in the finished product. While the work of Cowperthwaite and Halverson is undoubtedly sincere, having brought a great deal of previously buried information to light, it's nearly impossible to relate this complex narrative in a concise and coherent manner. Given the many story threads involved and the well-camouflaged structures that have been set up to keep the truth and its principal participants concealed, it's a genuine challenge to intelligibly expose the overarching nature of this highly convoluted big picture. Some elements are thus underdeveloped or left incomplete, making this film an often-frustrating watch. That's unfortunate considering the importance of this story, one that has been largely flying below the radar and certainly deserves to be more widely exposed and detailed. With that said, though, "The Grab" represents a valuable start, and one can only hope there will be more releases like this that manage to dig deeper and discover more. It's also heartening that the picture addresses some of the victories that have come about in combatting this issue, particularly those that have benefitted Africans who have been subjected to what is essentially a new form of continental colonization. In an age where increasing social and political volatility is arising due to a failure to effectively address the world's hunger, it's essential that we become aware of this issue before it gets out of hand and leads us down a path we don't dare pursue.

I'm going to say up front that this is a film I'm probably going to be processing for quite some time. The latest offering from writer-director Yorgos Lanthimos - best known for films like "The Lobster" (2015), "The Favourite" (2018) and "Poor Things" (2023) - is as much a puzzle as anything else. Told in three loosely interlaced stories with mostly the same cast members playing different roles in each, the film primarily deals in explorations of control and abuse examined from various angles. The individual stories plumb an array of additional subjects, including life, death, sanity, religion, cult membership, sexuality, dreams, surreality and self-indulgence, among others, most of which are tinged with exceedingly dark, macabre, cynical, satirical humor (evident even in its title) very much in the same vein as one of the filmmaker's other, more troubling releases, "The Killing of a Sacred Deer" (2017). Unlike that mess of a picture, though, "Kinds of Kindness" is somewhat more coherently structured, both in its individual segments and overall, even though the finished product still has an overly cryptic eccentricity that could have benefitted from better delineated refinement. To be sure, "Kindness" has its strong points, such as its sardonic humor that may often have you giggling at things that you probably think you shouldn't be laughing at. It also has strong performances from many of Lanthimos's regulars, including Emma Stone, Willem Dafoe and Margaret Qualley, along with newcomers Hong Chau and Jesse Plemons, winner of the Cannes Film Festival Best Actor Award (though I can't help but wonder what effect this film may have on the future of their careers, talent notwithstanding). And, much to my surprise, the pacing is fairly well sustained for a movie with a 2:45:00 runtime, probably because it holds viewer attention well, leaving audiences perpetually wondering where each of the vignettes is going next. On the downside, however, its graphic imagery, explicit sexuality, extreme violence and other questionable story elements may easily turn off some members (myself included at times), particularly when they push the limits of acceptability (sensitive viewers take note, especially animal lovers). So the bottom line questions here would be, "Did I like it?" and "Would I recommend it?" Well, that depends on how open one is to edgy content that clearly pushes the envelope. To be honest, there are things about this offering that I truly liked, but, then, my tastes tend to be more open-ended than those of many more conventional moviegoers. Because of that, however, this may consequently be seen as the kind of picture that many of those same audience members might find unduly troubling and offensive, readily labeling it as such and claiming that this is the sort of movie that gives many reviewers a bad name (and they probably wouldn't be entirely wrong in saying that). Lanthimos has certainly pushed limits in many of his previous works, such as "Poor Things," "The Lobster" and "The Favourite," but the edginess of those releases had a playful, warmer, more whimsical feel to them than this outing, which is much more akin to the disturbing shadowiness of a film like "Sacred Deer." Keep all of the foregoing in mind if you're contemplating a screening of this one. And, in any event, if you come away from it outraged, disappointed or confused, don't say you weren't warned.

When a film feels it has to beat its message to death to get it across, it loses much of its effectiveness, and that's very much the case with director Andy Vallentine's debut narrative feature. The picture tells the story of an upscale Los Angeles gay male couple, Thomas (Nico Tortorella) and Oscar (Juan Pablo Di Pace), who become foster parents to a six-year-old boy (Matthew Jacob Ocampo) whose drug-addicted mother (Colleen Foy) is incarcerated. But, when mom is released from prison, she wins back custody of the child to raise as her own, a development that tears Thomas apart. His anguish is exacerbated by many of his LGBTQ friends becoming parents and Oscar's lack of interest in fostering another youngster, causing a serious rift in their relationship. To its credit, the premise behind this comedy-drama is admittedly refreshing for a work of gay cinema, but its execution misses the mark due to its unoriginal, undercooked, redundant screenplay. For instance, some of the humor is decidedly catchy, but much of the basic dialogue sounds like it could have been pulled from episodes of Queer as Folk. And then there are the trite characters and scene settings, many of which resemble entries from the Big Book of Gay Stereotypes, a lazy approach to telling this picture's story. What's most tiresome, though, are Thomas's endless laments about losing custody of his foster child and his indecisiveness about how to resolve his despair, script elements that become irritatingly circular and repetitive. Even the title is somewhat problematic in that it could easily be interpreted in several ways, several of which could be taken as misleading (which I'm certain is not what was intended). In short, despite this production's attempts at doing something inventive and different, "The Mattachine Project" is nevertheless one of those projects that clearly should have gone through a few more rounds of revisions and rewrites before being committed to celluloid.

It's frustrating to watch a movie that gets most everything right but ends up going off the rails when it really counts. Such is the case with writer-director Erica Tremblay's third feature outing about a Native American woman (Lily Gladstone) from Oklahoma's Seneca-Cayuga Reservation who goes in search of her missing sister (Hauli Gray) at the Grand Nations Powwow in Oklahoma City with her 13-year-old niece (Isabel Deroy-Olson) in tow. But the duo's road trip odyssey soon turns into a statewide crime-ridden misadventure not unlike the narrative in "Thelma & Louise" (1991). Much of this multilayered tale is actually carried off quite skillfully, spotlighting the challenges that indigenous people (especially women) face and presenting a story with a capably executed, tension-filled, edge-of-your-seat quality, prompting viewers to wonder what's coming next. However, as the story wears on, it becomes increasingly implausible, culminating in a climax that's more than a little difficult to believe, its heartfelt sentiments notwithstanding. There are also some intriguing back story elements scattered throughout that, quite frankly, could have been better developed and resolved. That's indeed a shame, considering how these shortcomings undermine the production's many strong points. These weaknesses also take away from the outstanding performances of Gladstone (who turns in even better work here than in her Oscar-nominated role in "Killers of the Flower Moon" (2023)) and Deroy-Olson in her big screen debut, as well as an outstanding cast of supporting players. This AppleTV+ original truly has a lot in its favor, but it's unfortunate that it didn't carry through on its strengths throughout the entire film. A near hit but one that doesn't live up to its promise or potential.

In an age where personal responsibility and accountability have become increasingly hard to come by, it's comforting to know that it's never too late to grow up, as evidenced in director Lisa Steen's debut feature outing. This touching yet insightful comedy-drama tells the story of Louise (Karen Gillan), a 28-year-old Brooklynite seriously in need of getting her act together. When the would-be musician breaks her hip while in a drunken stupor, she undergoes surgery to repair the damaged joint, but, while recovering in the hospital, she's assigned to a semi-private room with a cantankerous old woman who only speaks Polish, Antonina (Margaret Sophie Stein). Language considerations aside, they get off to a rough start on a variety of fronts. But, before long, Louise comes to understand and appreciate Antonina's simmering frustration with essentially being treated as though she's invisible and ends up, quite surprisingly, becoming her caretaker after being released from the hospital. And, through this unlikely relationship, Louise starts to take her own life more seriously, leaving her irresponsibility behind and finally living up to her obligations, most notably reconnecting with her mother, Dorothy (Talia Balsam), who's in the late stages of early onset Alzheimer's Disease. Based on this picture, it's certainly heartening to see that it's possible for those in need of getting their lives in order can still do so, even with some slip-ups along the way. "Late Bloomers" serves up a charming mix of laughs (many of them unexpected in nature) that are well integrated with its share of tender, sensitive moments, all brought to life by the excellent performances of the two leads and a host of colorful supporting players. There are a few points where the narrative meanders a bit, but these are more than made up for by everything that the filmmaker, cast and crew get right. Based on what I've seen here, I'm anxious to see what this director comes up with next, as this effort represents an auspicious start to what I hope and believe will be a promising filmmaking career.

Retirement is supposed to be one of those times of life that we eagerly look forward to. Having the free time to do what we want, when we want, is thought to be liberating and thoroughly enjoyable. But, for some, the transition from full-time working life to full-time leisurely living can be challenging, especially in the relationships of long-partnered couples, as seen in this latest feature outing from director Barbara Kulcsar. When Peter Waldvogel (Stefan Kurt) retires from his job of 37 years, his wife, Alice (Esther Gemsch), looks forward to spending more time with him, growing closer and falling in love all over again, a process she hopes will begin with a Mediterranean cruise. But Peter is unsettled and restless, not sure what to do with himself. And, when a family friend suddenly dies, he becomes obsessed with his own mortality and well-being, so much so that it becomes irritating to Alice. She wants to enjoy life with her husband traveling, meeting new people and having new experiences. Those plans get thwarted at seemingly every turn, however, even when it comes to embarking on the cruise, developments that drive a widening wedge between Peter and Alice and threaten the very foundation of their marriage. Is this what retirement is supposed to be about? Alice doesn't think so, and these ever-intensifying circumstances push the couple to take a hard look at what their future will hold. In addressing this issue, the film presents a refreshingly honest take on what can emerge in the golden years of life, a time of transformation but not necessarily one that emerges in the form that we might have envisioned. Admittedly, some elements of the picture are rather predictable, but then there are also numerous twists and turns that take the story in unexpected directions. The film also would have benefitted from better audio quality (a growing problem with many releases these days) and a score that doesn't sound like it was plucked from a 1980s Neil Simon movie. However, the performances of this offering's fine ensemble cast, its beautiful cinematography of European locales, and its delightful and sometimes edgy humor make this romantic comedy-drama an enjoyable watch, now available online and in limited theatrical release. Undoubtedly, we'd all like for our golden years to live up to their hoped-for luster, and, if we approach them realistically, they truly can, as long as we provide the necessary spit and polish to make that happen.

There's a difference between minimalist and vacuous, and writer-director Annie Baker doesn't seem to know the difference. The playwright's debut feature, to put it simply, is boring, pretentious, meandering, unfocused and a big, fat waste of time. It's so dull, in fact, that the film makes the works of Kelly Reichardt appear utterly fascinating. Set in 1991 in the hippie-dominated arts community of rural western Massachusetts, the film follows the story (if one could even call it that) of middle-aged acupuncturist Janet (Julianne Nicholson) as she struggles to sort out what appears to have been a wayward, meandering life. And, as this tale plays out, it faithfully sticks to that course, too, an influence that's clearly wearing off on Janet's equally clueless, incessantly brooding, 8-year-old daughter, Lacy (newcomer Zoe Ziegler). Along the way, the duo experiences an array of cryptic, inconsequential involvements with others who are apparently fascinated with Janet (though goodness knows why), all of whom (Will Patton, Sophie Okonedo, Elias Koteas) are just as lost and boring as Janet is. So what's the point in all this? Who knows - and, not long into the picture, who cares? The raves that have been showered on this tedious, tiresome piece of filmmaking are a complete mystery to me, given its prevailing mundane nature and monotone performances by players who all sound like they've been shot up with sodium pentothal. Nicholson, in particular, comes across as so disengaged that she probably could have just as easily phoned in this performance (despite claims that this is the breakthrough role that she's supposedly been waiting for - please, watch her in "August: Osage County" (2013) instead). What's more, this picture probably has some of the worst sound quality I've ever seen in a contemporary production - so bad that I had to struggle to be able to hear what was being said (and I was sitting in the theater's second row). And the film's feeble attempts at trying to incorporate some kind of subtle, nuanced metaphysical undercurrent fail miserably as well, treated almost as if their inclusion was an afterthought. If you dare to consider giving this one a look, make sure you don't watch it when you're tired - you just might fall asleep soon after the opening credits roll, an understandable reaction, to be sure.

Smart horror films are one movie genre of which not nearly enough offerings are produced. These pictures are proof positive that edgy, spooky stories can be successfully made without having to kill off the cast or engage in spectacles of gratuitous gore. The works of filmmakers like Jordan Peele and Alex Garland exemplify this, as do the three releases in this impressive franchise. And this latest entry is, without a doubt, the best of the lot. "Day One" draws upon the mythology introduced in the series' first two films, but it takes matters in a new, more insightful direction and does so, ironically, by way of a prequel going back to the origin of this gripping, ongoing saga. What separates this film from what preceded it, however, is that it presents yet another story in the franchise but from an entirely new angle, with new characters, a new setting, and a new, more profound, more nuanced focus. Instead of small-town America, where the first two pictures were set, this offering takes place in New York City, showing what happens when the Big Apple is attacked by the now-familiar aliens that hunt by way of sound as the means for finding their prey - and the measures that surviving humans must take to stay silent to keep from being spotted. The narrative principally follows a terminally ill poet (Lupita Nyong'o) living in hospice care who has become resigned to the fate of her impending death but now seeks to stay alive at all costs, most notably in helping a frightened Englishman living in Gotham (Joseph Quinn) and protecting her beloved (and adorable) comfort cat. These circumstances give her a new purpose at a time when she might have otherwise completely given up hope. In telling this story, the film also examines the perils of having to suddenly adjust to a "new normal" under unpredictable conditions, as well as the need for all of us to pull together in a united front in the wake of these trying circumstances. But there's more to it than that, including metaphorical themes and symbolic imagery that truly make this more than just a horror film (and even more than just a smart horror movie at that). While it's true the story meanders somewhat at times, it nevertheless presents viewers with a thoughtful tale, punctuated by excellent camera work, a fine soundtrack and a superb, award-worthy performance by Nyong'o. Even if you haven't seen the two previous films in this series or have much interest in this genre, writer-director Michael Sarnoski's second feature outing is well worth your time. It's a smart, smart, smart film that rises far above what one might typically expect from a horror flick - and one that will leave you with a lot more than just a few good scares upon exiting the theater.

According to playwright David Mamet, "Age and treachery will always beat youth and exuberance." And, if 93-year-old Thelma Post (June Squibb) has anything to say about it in this fact-based action-comedy-drama, you can take that notion to the bank. In this story of a spry but sometimes-gullible widowed retiree living on her own, we watch - often in jaw-dropping awe - a feisty, independently minded senior determined to get her money back when she's scammed out of her funds in a phone-based phishing scheme. Thelma says nothing about her plan to her family (Fred Hechinger, Parker Posey, Clark Gregg), who are already concerned about her ability to continue living on her own, and recruits the assistance of a wily old friend (Richard Roundtree) to join her in her quest to retrieve the stolen cash. The result is an uproarious farce featuring humor that's clearly outlandish but never implausible or over the top. But there's more to this offering than laughs - the sight of capable, underestimated elderly folks taking charge over their lives (and, in the case of this picture, even performing their own stunts!) is truly inspiring. This is backed by a potent, poignant (though never preachy) underlying look at what it's like to grow old and the losses that come with it, a bittersweet meditation on the inevitable changes that come with age and how all too quickly they arrive, material that's deftly and often philosophically interwoven with the comedy. Director Josh Margolin's debut feature represents an impressive premiere for the writer-actor, featuring a superbly penned, well-balanced, evenly paced script relating the experiences of his own 103-year-old grandmother, who's still alive and kicking and whose real-life home was used as one of the film's principal movie sets. It's also a triumph for 94-year-old Squibb in her career's first-ever lead role, one worthy of Oscar contention that effectively depicts a wide-ranging talent that's been bottled up for far too long. And the film is a fine showcase for Roundtree in his final feature film performance, one in which we see him in a different light from many of his previous roles and in which he's perfectly matched with his cunning co-star. My only issue with the picture is with the portrayal of Thelma's family, in which the development of its three principals never comes off quite right, seemingly reaching for something that doesn't gel properly, an aspect of the narrative that clearly could have used some further refinement. Otherwise, though, "Thelma" (or "Thelmaf" as it was known in an alternate version of the title) is one of the funniest, best produced releases that I've seen in quite some time. So hop on your scooter and get your behind to see this one - or else.

In an age where the lines of what makes for a successful relationship have become increasingly blurred (and simultaneously more liberating), we're seeing all manner of partnership combinations emerge that are just as valid as conventional models, no matter how different they may appear. And thank goodness for that, as evidenced by the profound connection depicted in this delightful animated feature from writer-director Paul Berger. In a diversely multicultural version of 1980s New York (some might more correctly call it a multi-species zootropolis), Dog is a lonely soul. He longs to find someone to make his life fulfilled, a dream that appears to come true when he purchases an Amica 2000 Robot. Once activated, Robot and Dog quickly bond and spend a fun summer getting to know one another and enjoying each other's company. But, when a late summer beach outing inadvertently separates them until the following spring, each is left alone, wondering if they'll ever see one another again, despite often dreaming about what such a reunion may hold. During this separation, though, both parties begin to realize what could occur if they never reconnect, prompting them to consider how to forge new forms of companionship. But will those alternative arrangements be satisfying, or will their longing for one another never let up? These are the kinds of relationship questions that many of us face in life, so the circumstances ring familiar, even if the parties involved are vastly different from us. The result is a warm, touching, heartfelt story that's decidedly sweet and cute (though never cutesy), with more than a few bittersweet moments to keep it real. The picture's charming, imaginative animation presents a whimsical, nuanced view of the Big Apple in the late 20th Century with virtually no dialogue but backed with a killer soundtrack. The narrative, based on a graphic novel by Sara Varon, is a bit sluggish at times (especially in the film's opening half) with some sequences that could have been trimmed or eliminated. In fact, some have contended that "Robot Dreams" is a glorified short that's been needlessly padded to stretch out its runtime, though that's a view I don't share, despite my belief that this release would have benefitted from some judicious editing. As a general rule, I'm not an overly huge fan of animation, since much of it in my mind is excessively silly, manic and inane (especially among American productions), so I tend to pick what I screen in this genre very selectively. However, when animation works well, its offerings frequently turn my head, as this one often does. This Oscar-nominated title is a fun little picture that will surely put a smile on your face and tug at the heartstrings, and that's something worth dreaming about.

Fables often make for intriguing storytelling and engaging cinematic experiences. And such is the case for the debut feature from writer-director Daina Oniunas-Pusic, a whimsical yet profound tale about the acceptance of death (or, more precisely, the ability to move beyond that and learn how to make friends with death). It's told through the experience of 15-year-old Tuesday (Lola Petticrew), a terminally ill adolescent whose mother, Zora (Julia Louis-Dreyfus), is struggling to accept the inevitable. Zora looks for excuses to avoid spending time with her daughter, because she's unable to face the impending truth. But, when death itself suddenly and unexpectedly appears to claim Tuesday, taking the form of a talking, shape-shifting parrot (voiced by Arinzé Kene), Zora's hand is forced. Somewhat surprisingly, Tuesday reconciles herself to her fate rather easily and subsequently ends up spending most of her remaining time trying to help her mother understand the nature of what's about to happen - and what will unfold if it doesn't, consequences with larger implications. In doing so, the film gets into some deeply meaningful material, presenting insights that most of us probably have never considered, let alone explored, shedding an entirely new light on the essence of death, as well as the tremendous burden it has placed on its ornithological messenger. The result is a truly moving story, one that deftly mixes joy and sadness, pathos and humor, and anger and sympathy, not only for mother and daughter, but also for death itself and the wider world of which we're all a part. The narrative certainly gives viewers much to contemplate, introducing notions that might well raise eyebrows and perhaps even ruffle a few feathers (no pun intended) for those accustomed to more conventional interpretations of this subject. But, in the end, the picture provides a fresh, more mature take on these concepts. Admittedly, the pacing sags a touch in the middle, and the flow of the story may seem somewhat strange or a tad unfocused at times. What's more, some may question the reasoning behind why death appears as a talking parrot (but, then again, why should it necessarily take some of the more familiar forms we have seen in other stories, such as the grim reaper, for instance?). The film features fine performances, most notably the best screen work Louis-Dreyfus has ever turned in. It also respectfully recalls material presented previously in such perceptively prescient tales as the moving Australian comedy-drama "Baby Teeth" (2019) and the classic Twilight Zone episode "Nothing in the Dark" (1962) featuring a very young Robert Redford. Still, the premise may strike some as odd, absurd or implausible, but, then, when have fables, fairy tales or opera librettos ever faithfully stuck to the tried and true? Suspend your disbelief for this one, and sit back and immerse yourself in what it has to say. You may never look at death the same way ever again.

As a big sci-fi/fantasy fan, I generally look forward to seeing new releases in this genre. However, when the first part of this story was released in 2021, I was sorely disappointed by this tedious, overlong slog that, despite its stunning visuals and cinematography, never really engaged me. Though, for all my disappointment with the initial installment, it can't begin to compare to my reaction to "Part Two" - an even more tedious, unengaging, overly complicated offering that had me bored by 20 minutes in. I found myself not caring a whit about the characters or their story (which could have used a scorecard to help viewers sort out everything), and even the supposedly superior visuals of this iteration failed to capture my attention or interest. I can only conclude that I must be missing something, given the generally positive reactions and accolades this film and its predecessor have received, but I'm mystified that I haven't yet figured out what. By all rights, the elements would appear to be in place here to make this picture succeed - a stellar cast, great special effects and the skillful directing of filmmaker Denis Villeneuve, who created such excellent works as "Arrival" (2016) and "Blade Runner 2049" (2017) - but "Part Two," like its predecessor, just never grabbed me. To be honest, I'm truly surprised that I made it all the way through, considering the nearly constant temptation to want to fast-forward through the egregiously dull sequences (of there were many). From all this, I can only surmise that this film and the one that preceded it were created simply to milk as much box office money as possible out of the source material, despite the fact that the story isn't captivating enough to live up to that challenge. Indeed, if you're like me and found the first part boring, you'll probably find this one even more tiresome and lackluster (I'm certainly glad that I waited for this one to come to streaming and didn't waste my money on theater ticket prices). And now, as I understand it, another sequel, "Dune: Messiah," is in pre-production to continue a story that has still yet to reach conclusion after more than five hours of screentime. Be aware that the "Dune" films are far from the quality of other lengthy trilogies like the "Lord of the Rings" and "Dark Knight" series, films that definitely hold viewer interest from start to finish. Instead, "Dune" and "Dune: Part Two" are more like such mind-numbing stand-alone offerings as "Heaven's Gate" (1980), "Ishtar" (1987) and "Tenet" (2020) than anything of a genuinely epic nature. Treat the hype for this one with a hefty grain of salt, and don't say you weren't warned.

It's unfortunate that a good premise can't be saved from poor execution, but such is the case with this undercooked sci-fi thriller. When three Americans and three Russians aboard the International Space Station are stranded there when war breaks out between the two countries on Earth, the previously congenial crewmates turn against one another when the two teams of astronauts each receive orders to take control of the facility at any cost. The question in this, of course, is why? As a scientific research center, what material value would there be in taking charge of a remote space-based facility to the Earth-bound survivors of a war-ravaged planet? While the reasoning behind this is eventually explained, its revelation is delayed, leaving viewers with a drawn-out mystery that doesn't make much apparent sense, especially when taking control calls for a team of intelligent, convivial, supposedly mature scientists to instantaneously turn into murderous territorial thugs. And, even when the big reveal is finally made, it seems like it's hardly justification enough for this kind of behavior from a group of individuals who are allegedly more psychologically evolved and have supposedly risen above the infantile geopolitical bickering of their counterparts on terra firma. That's particularly true in light of the many (and I do mean many) references to the crew's "enlightened" outlook and assumed solidarity, qualities that are repeatedly browbeaten into viewers in the film's opening act. The fault here lies with a rather lame narrative and a screenplay that doesn't do much to overcome that failing. The special effects are also somewhat underwhelming for a sci-fi offering, one in which the filmmakers could have done considerably more to make the picture more visually engaging. Sadly, director Gabriela Cowperthwaite, perhaps best known for the superb documentary "Blackfish" (2013), is in over her head with this release, a project that really could have used a more skillful hand in making it the kind of edge-of-your-seat thriller that it deserved to be. Instead, audiences are left with a mediocre sci-fi tale that feels more like something one would find on the SyFy Channel or some other B-grade cable network. You won't miss much by skipping this one.

A lack of familiarity can produce so many needless problems, especially when it involves individuals about whom we know little or nothing. That lack of understanding can consequently yield issues that plainly aren't warranted and, more importantly, can be easily dispensed with by simply taking the time to find common ground. Such is the case in what is said to be the final film from legendary director Ken Loach, who tells the story of a group of Syrian refugees who relocate and settle in an economically depressed former coal mining town in northern England. The locals, who themselves are struggling to get by, are far from welcoming to the new arrivals, who have essentially lost everything and are merely looking for a place to start over. In many respects, both constituencies have much in common, but their unfamiliarity with one another gets in the way, leading to friction between them, especially on the part of the town's long-term residents, who feel they're being crowded out and left behind. But hope is not lost, thanks to the efforts of the owner (Dave Turner) of the community's principal local meeting place, a rundown pub called The Old Oak. He befriends one of the new arrivals, a young woman and would-be photographer (Ebla Mari), who manages to ingratiate herself into the lives of the barkeep and many other local residents. Their connection is not without its challenges, but the solidarity that emerges from it helps bring people together who might not do so otherwise. The style of filmmaking and narrative themes in this offering are classic Loach, recalling many of the works this prolific director has made for nearly 60 years, and, in many ways, it feels like the perfect send-off for this thought-provoking artist. Some story elements are, admittedly, rather predictable, and the ending feels somewhat truncated and abrupt, with a few story threads that aren't fully resolved. Nevertheless, the filmmaker has made the kind of parting statement here that he's been making in his other noteworthy works about the perils of the downtrodden, the need to help them and the necessity for fostering an intrinsic sense of fairness in the lives of us all. And what better way is there for a talent like Loach to say his last goodbye.

Coming out isn't always an easy process, especially for anyone who has lingering doubts about his or her sexual orientation. However, given the prevailing conditions present in contemporary society, this gay comedy-drama from directors Stephanie Allynne and Tig Nataro stretches credibility where that notion is concerned. Thirty-two-year-old Angelino Lucy (Dakota Johnson) can't figure herself out sexually speaking. She's not particularly interested in men, as her sometimes-male companion, Ben (Whitmer Thomas), finds out, but she's not sure if she's genuinely attracted to women. She spends considerable time with her bestie, Jane (Sonoya Mizuno), a straight woman whom she's known for years but who is also about to relocate from Los Angeles to London for work, a development about which Lucy has mixed feelings. So, when Lucy at last opens up to Jane about her possible lesbian leanings, she does all she can to get her friend a date before she leaves for England. But, somewhat perplexingly, Lucy hesitates at every turn, fearful of what might transpire. And therein lies the problem with this film - it's just not believable. If this picture were made (or set) 40 years ago, when social acceptance of alternative lifestyles was more problematic, then it would probably come across as more plausible. But, given current conditions, it's simply not convincing. If Lucy were to live in an isolated conservative small town, it might be more conceivable, but she lives in Los Angeles, for goodness sake, where alternative sexuality is virtually a prerequisite for residency. Lucy's exaggerated whining about her reluctance to move forward grows tiresome, too, and it's easy to see why Jane loses patience with her. That's a problem compounded by Johnson's underwhelming performance, which is annoying and anything but persuasive. The script's humor is fairly thin, too, save for the laughs generated in cameo appearances by LGBTQ+ icons like Sean Hayes and Nataro, who delivers a positively hilarious performance as a deadpan New Age retreat facilitator. But the film genuinely could use more of these edgy narrative elements (along with greater overall believability) to succeed as a viable release. In fact, given Nataro's reputation as a source of outrageously sidesplitting comedy, this project is surprisingly tame and inherently more conventional than what one would expect out of someone so innately talented. The picture's aptly timed streaming release for Pride Month isn't at all unexpected, but it's genuinely unfortunate that this just isn't a very good movie. Gay cinema has come a long way in recent decades, but this offering feels like an anachronistic throwback to the early days of the genre. We've seen stories much like this before, but the LGBTQ+ community deserves something more inventive - and better overall - at this point.

In the interest of full disclosure, I've never been a fan of Japanese monster movies, and, considering how many times the Godzilla story has been told so far, I've never been particularly interested in seeing any of them (after all, how many different variations can realistically be incorporated into the big guy's single-minded mythos?). In any event, I relented in this case, because I was admittedly curious to see the film's Oscar-winning visual effects, which, in all honesty, weren't bad (though definitely not outstanding - how this picture bested the far-superior visuals of "The Creator" truly baffles me). However, capable special effects and production design considerations aside (the basis for the generous ratings I've given to this title), this release has little else to offer that hasn't already been depicted countless times before. What's more, the film's attempts at trying to incorporate post-World War II political commentary and to be more than just a simplistic monster movie are fairly lame. Its non-devastation story threads are frequently predictable, heavy-handed, slowly paced, occasionally corny, often implausible, and, above all, boring. I frankly couldn't wait for these segments to end and get back to the supposed "it" factor - the monster's destructive hijinks (of which, to be perfectly honest, there were too few, given that this is supposed to be this offering's primary drawing card). Even the title of this production needs work; any picture that requires a Google search to find out what it's supposed to mean has inherent issues in my book. To its credit, writer-director Takashi Yamazaki's effort to elevate the Godzilla narrative above the B movie camp fest level genuinely seems sincere, but the end product is little more than the standard item with better visuals and a well-intentioned (but largely failed) aim at infusing the story with more substantive content. In light of the many iterations of this saga that have been filmed over the years, I think it's high time to give the persecuted sea monster a well-deserved rest for a while - a long while - and get on with the business of making movies that aren't tiresome retreads and that at last give Tokyo a chance to rebuild.

Some may find it discouraging to look upon the world with a robustly cynical outlook, yet, given prevailing conditions in the world today, it may sometimes be unavoidable, an attribute reflected in many contexts, including art and cinema. And that's just what Romanian writer-director Radu Jude has done in his latest feature outing, a biting, darkly satirical comedy-drama that lays bare many of the everyday frustrations that his countrymen experience in areas like politics, corruption and economic opportunities. The film tells this story through the experiences of Angela Raducani (Ilinca Manolache), an overworked, underpaid, sleep-deprived movie production assistant as she struggles to make it through her daily work routine, an unappreciated effort not unlike that thrust upon many contemporary Romanians. To compensate for the tedium of her career and to let off some considerable pent-up steam, Angela makes short videos of her own featuring a foul-mouthed, sexually provocative male alter-ego, Bobitja, who swears like a sailor and describes explicit erotic encounters that would make a porn star blush. She also wrestles with the many self-serving demands of her arrogant Austrian corporate sponsors and a bloated Romanian bureaucracy that proves ineffectual in resolving property ownership issues related to her family's cemetery plots. Moreover, the picture draws uncanny parallels in the living and working conditions experienced by the nation's present-day residents with those who lived under the Communist dictatorship of Nicolae Ceausescu in the 1980s, presented here through intercut thematically linked film clips from the 1982 Romanian melodrama "Angela merge mai departe" ("Angela Moves Forward"), the story of a taxi driver whose circumstances mirror those of the beleaguered PA. It all makes for quite an intriguing and engaging mix of story elements, one the holds viewer attention well for about two-thirds of the release, especially in its deliciously bawdy, ribald humor. However, with a 2:43:00 runtime, it becomes somewhat trying as a comedy (and as a movie overall), serving up an excess of almost everything. Unlike comparably long offerings such as "Triangle of Sadness" (2022), which manage to successfully sustain their humor for such a lengthy duration, this effort starts getting repetitive, running out of gas to keep propelling it forward, especially in the somewhat exasperating final half-hour. Like Jude's previous release, "Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn" ("Barbardeala cu bucluc sau porno balamuc") (2021), this outing definitely could have benefitted from some judicious editing, particularly in its endless footage of the protagonist driving through heavy Bucharest traffic. To the filmmaker's credit, "End of the World" deserves kudos for its irreverence and its ambitious inventiveness and willingness to try the untried, but this is yet another example of a project where the creator fails to kill his darlings, an undertaking that could have been accomplished successfully in lobbing off about 20 minutes of extraneous material, especially in the closing moments. This one is worth a look if you're willing to be patient with it, as that's essential to make your way through all the way to the end. But, if you don't go in with that attitude, you might be expecting too much from the end of the film.