Directors: Scott Beck & Bryan Woods
Starring: Hugh Grant, Sophie Thatcher & Chloe East
Rated: R (violence) 
Runtime: 1 hour & 51 minutes 

 
I remember reading an interview with director David Fincher when he was doing press for “Gone Girl” where, in talking about adapting the book, he stated, "You have to choose which aspect you want to make a movie from." The idea that adapting didn't simply mean altering the material to fit a new medium but adjusting, modifying even - so that said material was suited to this new medium and complimentary to it stuck with me. “Heretic” was not adapted from a book and didn't *really* take Fincher's advice when picking a single aspect from the topic it's covering to focus on. “Heretic” operates more in the "go big or go home" line of thought as it attempts to be a mind game, a mind fuck, as well as a critical reading of organized religions that ring “as hollow and as capitalistic” as board games like Monopoly with all its "zany spinoffs."
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I bring up this Fincher quote because it helped me narrow my thoughts in response to “Heretic” for, despite the sprawling breadth of the subject matter and epic monologue deliveries via a charming-as-ever Hugh Grant, what I zeroed in on was this idea of "iterations" and how the film presents this idea that these amalgamations of fantastical stories meant to serve as moral channels have ultimately given us diluted and obscured worldviews. Views that people have died in the name of, views that have created rifts between entire civilizations and have fostered countless forms of violence throughout history despite being perceived as a significant contributor to a peaceful society. That isn't to say this is any single religion's fault - people will find anything to argue about - but that it has become the basis for such negative repercussions says a lot about how organized religions have imported their ideas to their followers and how that shapes how those followers then choose to experience the world.

This is why the pairing of Grant's character, Mr. Reed, who is seemingly nothing more than a reclusive Englishman, with that of Sister Barnes (Sophie Thatcher) and Sister Paxton (Chloe East) - two missionaries of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints - is so fascinating in that writer/directors Scott Beck and Bryan Woods place each character at a different stage of their religious and faith journeys. Reed is an expert who has studied various meanings and perspectives on the nature of belief. In contrast, Barnes is a convert to the Mormon faith but more world-weary than the bright-eyed Paxton, who was born and raised in the church and whose most significant goal is to convert one of the people behind the many doors she and Sister Barnes knock on during their evangelizing missions.

Being able to co-exist at these different levels while engaging in the beliefs and ideas, even in the various denominations within Christianity, should be a selling point, celebrated even, given that institutions' main objective is to achieve salvation for as many people as possible. This would mean meeting people where they're at and, in turn, having those people engage with a certain religion's teachings in an introspective fashion rather than in a competitive one. That the film proposes a kind of embrace of the mystery of the unknown allows it to lay claim to this acceptance of these varying meanings and interpretations derived from different religious texts, but because of the role Grant’s Mr. Reed takes in the encounter and how he drives the philosophical and psychological aspects of the conversation make it overwhelmingly clear the type of person he is meant to be. Though a disturbed and irrefutably bad person, he makes some valid points and has obviously spent so much time reading, researching and considering all of this that his arguments are often more convincing than anything the girls can respond with. Of course, and this is why the second half of the film succeeds despite what many will say about it, as we get deeper and deeper into discovering Mr. Reed’s true intentions and how he means to test the hypothesis he’s been formulating for some time it becomes clear that, just like the religions he accuses of merely being echoes of something that might have once been true, he too is simply an amalgamation of the stories and opinions he has read, regurgitating it all as if it’s his thought and trying to convince those who are willing to engage with him that he holds the key to the one true conclusion.

Because of this, complaints around the movie will either be that it is essentially "Mansplaining: The Movie" or that it starts strong but devolves into some of your typical genre trappings. There is no denying the first hour or so is superior to the second purely from an immersive experience perspective but despite some of the holes one could poke in the plotting (though Elizabeth Smart would undoubtedly disagree) and in light of the defense I stated in the previous paragraph, it felt as if Beck and Woods successfully managed to both upend expectations while taking things to another level through to the final confrontation in which the film's central thesis is both nicely stated as well as visually illustrated in one of the coolest shots of the year; utilizing the maze motif the film employs to depict the control one can have over a person when they've overseen the construction of their worldview.

Director: Edward Berger
Starring: Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci & John Lithgow 
Rated: PG (thematic material & smoking)
Runtime: 2 hours 

​A film about the selection of the next Pope shouldn’t be as thrilling and fun as director Edward Berger’s “Conclave” proved to be.

“Conclave” takes one of the world’s most secretive events – participating in the selection of a new leader of the Catholic Church – and turns it into a barnburner of a thriller where multiple characters might become the next Pope or see their chances fall by the wayside with controversies bubbling to the surface.

In a world that feels like politics, and the film's release in the U.S. directly before the Presidential Election was almost certainly intended, there’s infighting, liberal vs. conservative ideology, and the idea of the church moving forward or falling decades behind.

It’s incredible that screenwriter Peter Straughan’s screenplay, based on the 2016 novel by Robert Harris, was able to make such deliciousness out of something that should’ve been a crawler of boredom.

The film begins with the death of the Pope, who is hilariously billed as “Dead Pope” in the end credits (no, this isn’t a comedy, but that was objectively funny). Cardinal Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes) oversees the conclave to select the next Pope as the Dean of the College of Cardinals. There are four Cardinals primarily in the fight to become the next Pope: American liberal Cardinal Bellini (Stanley Tucci), moderate Cardinal Tremblay (John Lithgow), who may be American or Canadian – I can’t tell if they ever specifically say but Wikipedia has listed as Canadian, Nigerian Cardinal Adeyemi (Lucian Msamati), a popular choice with conservative social views such as anti-homosexuality and Italian Cardinal Tedesco (Sergio Castellitto), a hardliner traditionalist who wishes to return the church to its original ways, including Latin mass.

Some also want Cardinal Lawrence to be Pope, even if he initially disagrees. He’s been embroiled in self-doubt and a crisis of faith and even tried to resign before the Pope’s death.

Then there’s the mysterious Cardinal Benitez (Carlos Diehz), unknown to the other Cardinals because of his dangerous work in war-torn Afghanistan, which the Pope had kept secret.

The other significant characters with essential roles in “Conclave” are Sister Agnes (Isabella Rossellini) as the head caterer and housekeeper of the conclave, who plays a substantial role in knocking some sense into the Cardinals at a critical moment in the film as the feminine voice the church so often fails to listen to. And there’s Monsignor Raymond O’Malley (Brían F. O’Byrne), an assistant to Lawrence who’s essentially playing the role of private investigator, as he’s able to leave the conclave and run down leads and search for information while the Cardinals are all secluded for the event.

As with most mystery-thrillers, getting too far into the plot could serve as a spoiler and would undoubtedly impact the enjoyment level of viewers, which I would never want to do. So, I will say that the path to being the next Pope holds many intriguing controversies and showdowns between characters so amazingly portrayed by veteran actors the likes of Fiennes (he’s going to be one of the front-runners for Oscar’s Best Actor), Tucci and Lithgow that you’ll be unable to take your eyes off the screen. And the ending … wow. It was one that simultaneously made me smile while also making one nearby member of my audience audibly gasp. You probably won’t see it coming.

You’ll hear about this one a good amount come awards season, so it's a must-watch if you’re into that stuff.

It'll also be a pleasure if you’re looking for a taught two-hour thriller about a topic we rarely see.

I didn’t have any recommendations this year that made for perfect October Halloween watches, as I did in 2023, so I chose the closest one to it in the 1985 murder-mystery-comedy “Clue,” directed by Jonathan Lynn, and based on the classic board game.

My friend Remington recommended this one last December when I asked for a recommendation for 2024. In a unique coincidence, he’ll actually be starring as Boddy in a local playhouse version of “Clue” in early November.  

“Clue” finds the popular characters from the board game: Mrs. Peacock (Eileen Brennan), Mrs. White (Madeline Kahn), Miss Scarlet (Lesley Anne Warren), Colonel Mustard (Martin Mull), Mr. Green (Michael McKean) and Professor Plum (Christopher Lloyd), all at a mysterious mansion one night in 1954. They have been invited by butler Wadsworth (Tim Curry) to find out and kill the person who has been blackmailing them.

Well, someone does just that, and the rest of the movie is spent trying to figure out which one of the characters committed the murder, just as the gameplay goes in the board game.

I wouldn’t recommend turning many board games into films, but Clue sets up perfectly for an Agatha Christie-like story, and the talented cast and crew of the film do a good job in spoofing those stories, even if I wish the film overall provided more laughs than it does.

I understand the film wasn’t well reviewed by critics when it was released but has developed something of a cult status over the decades.

The performances that I found to be the most entertaining were Curry’s as Wadsworth, especially the running around the mansion trying to recreate the entirety of the evening at the outcome, and McKean as Mr. Green, a homosexual who’s been forced to keep his sexual preference a secret for his government job.

The biggest laugh I had during the entire movie was McKean’s response of “No, thank you” to the buxom maid Yvette’s plea to go with her upstairs in the dark after Plum and Mustard’s enthusiastic “I will!” answers.

Having known Lloyd and Kahn for their incredibly humorous roles in other comedies of that era or prior, I was surprised by how little laughter their performances as Plum and White, respectively, brought out of me.

One of the more intriguing things about “Clue” is something I wouldn’t have gotten had I seen it at the cinema in 1985. The film has three different endings, and via home video and streaming, all three are strung together at the end, whereas when shown in theaters upon its release, each show was given a different ending: A, B, or C, to have people watch the film multiple times (it was a ploy that didn’t work on audiences).

It's an interesting ploy, but after the first ending, when the film continued with the possibility of another murderer, I grew concerned the film was going to have six different endings, one where each of the main board game characters committed the crime. That was one of the film’s initial plans until they realized it would make for a two-and-a-half-hour movie. While I understand the reasoning behind doing it, I wish we had only one ending.  

“Clue” is worth watching for anyone interested in board games—one of my favorites as a child, which I need to revisit—or murder mysteries. I don’t think it’s a standout of the genre, but it’s certainly interesting enough for one viewing.  

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Gabriel LaBelle, Rachel Sennott & Willem Dafoe
Rating: R (language, sexual references, drug use & brief nudity)
Runtime: 1 hour & 49 minutes

 
On Oct. 11, 1975, television changed forever when the first group of people who grew up watching television took over television for 90 minutes late on a Saturday night. The show was “Saturday Night” (which would become “Saturday Night Live”) and director Jason Reitman’s “Saturday Night” tells the story of the 90 minutes before the show changed television.
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I’m predisposed to enjoy “Saturday Night.” I’ve been a fan of “Saturday Night Live” for most of my life. I watch every new episode of the show, and the history of ‘SNL’ is one of my favorite topics in pop culture history. So, “Saturday Night,” the film would’ve had to be REALLY bad for me not to enjoy it.
“Saturday Night,” which Reitman co-wrote with Gil Kenan, is certainly not REALLY bad.

The film begins roughly an hour-and-a-half before the first episode of ‘SNL’ is set to go live on NBC, and there is mayhem in Studio 8H in Rockefeller Center. Some cast members are fighting (Chevy Chase and John Belushi), some are having existential crises (Garrett Morris), and some haven’t even signed their contracts (Belushi). Meanwhile, the crew is in disarray, with the lighting guy being let go after lights almost crushed a couple of cast members during rehearsal. Some crew members refuse to help laying bricks because it’s not part of their union. Oh, and the show itself is running about two hours too long. It’s a mess, but Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle), creator and producer of the show, insists everything is going to work out fine, even though he can’t even quite tell NBC’s Dick Ebersol (Cooper Hoffman), who was tasked with finding a program for late Saturday nights, and NBC’s head of talent David Tebet (Willem Dafoe), what the show is.

If you’re a hardcore ‘SNL’ fan, as I am, you will need to try not to fact-check the film to enjoy it. Did everything happen exactly as it does in this film? No. But the film is trying to capture the essence and feeling of the night, and how many who were there 49 years ago even remember accurately every little thing? What’s impressive is much of what you see in this movie did reportedly happen, just maybe not in the 90 minutes leading up to the first show – like Milton Berle (J.K. Simmons) waving his Little Miltie around, Garrett Morris (Lamorne Morris) singing “I’m going to get me a shotgun and kill all the whiteys I see,” etc.

There’s so much to love about “Saturday Night,” like how Reitman, Kenan, and cinematographer Eric Steelberg crafted the film's breakneck pace with walk-and-talks throughout the studio halls that make the film come off like a thriller and the fantastic, nearly perfect casting that makes you feel as if you’re in the room with legends like Chase (Cory Michael Smith), Belushi (Matt Wood), Gilda Radner (Ella Hunt), and Dan Aykroyd (Dylan O’Brien).  

Rachel Sennott as writer/Michael’s partner/cast whisperer Rosie Shuster and Nicholas Braun in the dual roles of Andy Kaufman and Jim Henson (imagine being tasked with portraying two pop culture legends!) are true standouts.  

Pretty much every character in this film gets their particular scene to shine, something that I imagine was challenging to do with a story essentially told in real-time and the lead character, Michaels, needing to be at the forefront of much of the story.

LaBelle does an admirable job of leading the cast as Michaels, even if he’s almost a decade too young for the part. But the real star of “Saturday Night” is the script by Reitman and Kenan, which keeps it speeding through one problem after another until Chase finally utters that iconic line “Live from New York, It’s Saturday Night.”

If you’re a fan of ‘SNL,’ I don’t know why you wouldn’t love this film. If you’re not all that interested in the show, it might not be for you, but it also works as a nice behind-the-scenes snapshot of a time in history.

Director: Josh Greenbaum
Rated: R (language) 
Runtime: 1 hour & 54 minutes

 
The best documentaries inform and entertain while potentially changing the world. I think that’s what “Will & Harper,” directed by Josh Greenbaum, has done.  
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The film, which is streaming on Netflix, features the friendship of modern comedy acting legend Will Ferrell and comedy writer Harper Steele. The relationship developed at “Saturday Night Live” in the mid-‘90s when the two worked on the long-running NBC sketch comedy show.

The film begins with Ferrell receiving an email from his old friend Andrew Steele, a writer at ‘SNL’ from 1995-2008, explaining how they’d always felt different and how they were transitioning and hoped this transition wouldn’t affect the relationship between the two (Steele sent the email to many friends).
Ferrell envisioned a road trip across the country with Harper. He wanted to spend time with an old friend he hadn’t seen in a while and learn more about their transition.

The two began a 17-day cross-country journey from Harper’s home in New York to California. Harper had always enjoyed making cross-country trips before transitioning but didn’t know if it would be safe now. One of the many purposes of the trip was to sort of feel out how the country felt about her now with one of her best friends at her side.

Because of how funny both Ferrell and Steele are, it’s a journey filled with laughter but there are also tear-jerking moments throughout, some of the pleasant variety like when Harper befriends folks at a bar and dirt track in Oklahoma, showcasing how Middle America might not necessarily be as anti-trans as one would assume but also of the harmful variety like at a steakhouse in Amarillo, Texas where it felt like she was on parade, unfortunately helped along by her friend’s outlandish outfit and celebrity.

Along the way, we see familiar faces that Ferrell, Steele, or both worked with at ‘SNL’, like Tina Fey, Seth Meyers, Tim Meadows, Molly Shannon, Kristen Wiig and Will Forte. As a big ‘SNL’ buff, these were among my favorite scenes in the film, but the meat and potatoes is the Steele/Ferrell friendship and just how hard it is for one to make such a big change in one's life.

I can’t commend Steele enough for being so brave to not only go on this trip but also film it and show it to the entire world.

Some have criticized how this film could only come to fruition because of Ferrell’s celebrity and how if Steele makes such a trip on her own without a film crew, it might not be safe or come out the same way. The criticisms are valid, but how else does a film like this get made?

If the film can help change the minds and hearts of viewers, getting the people who need to see it would be the main challenge (though hopefully, Ferrell’s involvement helps), then it would have been worth it all.

“Will & Harper” is a moving film about a couple of generally good people learning about life in a world new to them.   

The hallway is only full after a lifetime of achievements. And 50 is generous. Demi Moore is 61.
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I really dug how heightened everything was in “The Substance” - the editing and music especially - to emphasize how heightened the images we see of people on billboards, TV and especially in magazines are. These already pretty people made beautiful by teams of experts who are then put in flattering clothes and photographed at the most complimentary of angles while much of what these images do is compel the subjects as well as those who see and admire them to maintain their own appearance to the best of their ability - if not more.

The commentary on remaining youthful, the pigheadedness of men in Hollywood and how each time we do something to alter our appearance in unnaturalistic ways, we become more and more of a shell of who we once were is all plain text, but “The Substance” also has plenty to say about addiction, the pharmaceutical industry, as well as the general absurdity of the preciousness we surround the human form with if one cares to dissect it further.

Writer/director Coralie Fargeat makes these rather obvious observations seemingly more ...ahem... substantive by utilizing the presence of Moore and the audience's relationship with her outside of the film to accelerate the understanding of who Elisabeth Sparkle is and what she means to the culture. Moore's transformation over the course of the film, the dynamic she develops with Margaret Qualley's Sue, and how she quickly realizes her "true self" is who benefited least from trying to please everyone else is all executed with such over-the-top body horror hilariously excessive imagery of women's bodies and an aesthetic that is calculated and curated as meticulously as its characters make the style of expression as key as the content itself. One can't help but be fascinated at every turn, not simply by what the film is saying or how it's saying it but also by how unabashedly bold it is in making such assertions. It may go on for a bit too long in the third act, but deliberate exploitation is the name of the game, and Fargeat knows how to play it well.

Is it weird I no longer believe a single individual can save the world?
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Adam Driver is a good actor. He does a great David Dastmalchian impression here.

For Driver to go from a bit supporting part in a Coen Brothers movie 11 years ago to fronting Francis Ford Coppola's most significant bid in decades while working with Scorsese, Jarmusch, Baumbach, Spike, Soderbergh, Gilliam, Ridley and Mann in between is ... something ... and will absolutely look good for his cumulative legacy down the road, but my guy flips his cape more in this movie than he did as Kylo Ren.

I mean, bravo for large-scale ambitious storytelling, but upon first impression (and that part is key) “Megalopolis” feels like a collection of dialogue that FFC has kept a log of over the years that he believed - to varying degrees of truth - might be groundbreaking to the masses less privileged than he.

Some examples:

"When does an empire begin to die?"

"We've always got time...even if I don't understand it."

"Our life is what our thoughts make it."

And yet it's as if he never bothered much with finding a throughline of cohesion within these thoughts that he could transpose in a filmmaking fashion that might actually enlighten. What's most fascinating about this line of thinking - even if it's only true on the most granular of levels - is that FFC is 85 years old, has made some of the most celebrated films in history, and yet the commentary he provides here is more a series of acknowledgments about how screwed we are and that things need to change more so than it is statements on why, after watching the world actually change, evolve and adapt for nearly a century, things continue to falter and each new incarnation of generations continue to fail. Are we doomed to constantly repeat ourselves because everyone must learn from their own mistakes, or are the incremental steps forward every 50 years or so actually due to the fact we learn something from the past?

I stopped believing a long time ago that movies and entertainment could actually enact change in the greater scope of the world, but that genuinely seems to be FFC's goal here. Yet he offers no contributions to the conversation — only ostentatiously rendered observations that compare the fall of Rome to that of our current civilization ... as well as giving Shia LaBeouf and Aubrey Plaza the opportunity to fully camp up the place.

"I don't mind the lightning, but the thunder scares the shit outta me."

I wish, Mr. Hoffman. I felt nothing while watching this.

“My Old Ass” is a movie about savoring people, experiences and the moments we share in and with them. From the bike riding to the rocking of a newborn baby and through to the emotional mountain top this movie reaches, everything about Megan Park's ode to time and understanding that it is the one thing we cannot make more of absolutely wrecked me. Some will call it mawkish, and others will say it is manipulative, but everything is done in such a sincere fashion it's hard to believe Park was attempting to do anything other than remind her own self of these realizations and hopefully help a few others do the same in the process.

It's a great premise that I'm sure has been attempted before yet it never squanders the execution in the ways I expected it to. Initially, as a father of young children, I found the film incredibly depressing so far as I'm now fully sympathizing with adults in movies more so than the bullheaded teen protagonists which I know to be 1000% true because Maisy Stella's Elliott begins the film feeling like her life is finally starting on her 18th birthday, days away from leaving for college, despite it coming to the end of this major chapter for her parents.

That “My Old Ass” makes the arc of Elliott's character realizing how good she has it, how fleeting this moment in time truly is, and that she should take advantage of certain connections while she still can not only made me appreciate the film from an old man perspective but made me fall in love with it in the same way you fall in love with the comfort of a warm blanket and hot bowl of chili after working or playing in the cold for too long. This immediately shot to the top of my "share with friends" list and likely will become one of my default views when I crash into bed after a long day and simply need something to soothe, console and ultimately cheer me up.

Call it low expectations or lack thereof, but Alexandre Aja (“Crawl”) has crafted one of the more distressing, darkly psychological and all-around depressing movie-going experiences of my year in “Never Let Go.” The film manages to remain enticing through its escalating tension rather than get bogged down in its own misery.
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As something of an elaborate metaphor around how the restraints placed on our minds due to certain beliefs are stronger than the convictions they supply, this is pretty rattling. KC Coughlin and Ryan Grassby's screenplay goes one step further though, attempting to parse out what a belief system reflects of the believer, what it says about them individually, and even why certain people become susceptible to certain ways of thinking. Plagued by the context of today's world and in an election year no less, it was difficult for me to look past how certain characters - no matter the amount of evidence provided - were incapable of perceiving things differently from how they've been conditioned, almost groomed, to perceive them.

Not expecting a grand twist or the focus of the third act to rest on a surprise factor made this more enjoyable. I have no idea if that is part of general audience expectations going into this, but given the set-up, it feels like it might be. A twist for the sake of trying to make sense of this world and Halle Berry's character's point of view is not what the film is about though, it's about how Berry's character compiled her orientation in the first place and the harm she is doing to her children by passing it on despite genuinely believing she is saving them. Truly disturbing shit.

In addition, Aja's film is atmospheric as fuck. Shoutout to the production and set design teams, the set decorators (the curtains that look like snakeskin were a great touch), and the costume designers whose contributions all lend to this uncertainty that hangs over the film, trapping viewers in that space of never knowing what to believe is real and what is not.

Robin Coudert's score has some really cool elements as well.

And finally, just some stellar child performances from both Anthony B. Jenkins and Percy Daggs IV, who are both tasked with convincing us of their character perceptions in ways that could have easily been lost in translation from page to performance, but that these guys convey naturally and with such conviction in their presentations that we're truly torn between setting them free and trying to find the cons in letting them continue to believe.

Director: Todd Phillips
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Lady Gaga & Brendan Gleeson
Rated: R (some strong violence, language, some sexuality & brief nudity)
Runtime: 2 hours & 18 minutes

 
They say the art of originality is knowing how to hide your sources, but if you saw the first ‘Joker’ film, you know writer/director Todd Phillips has no qualms about sharing his sources.
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Interestingly enough, it would seem that Phillips' foray into the world of his titular character was based not only on making something in the vein of some of his inspirations but also on telling a story of inspiration itself while somehow crafting a film that doesn't feel the least bit inspiring.

"They" AKA Shakespeare also stated that “all the world's a stage,” and it is this divide within the psyche of our main character who so badly desires to be the center of attention - the main character of his own story if not others as well - yet is unable to necessarily stand out without doing something drastic that hangs over Phillips' follow-up. It is this coming to terms with his actual mediocrity that pains Joaquin Phoenix’s Arthur Fleck to the extent he doesn't know which side of himself to turn to in the aftermath of killing five people (actually six) - one of which was live on national television. As lost as Fleck seems, the same could be said for “Joker: Folie à Deux,” the sequel to the billion-dollar-earning and Oscar-winning 2019 film, at least over its first hour. 

On the one hand, Phillips is keen on making a film that subverts expectations and doesn't allow itself to fall into any trappings audiences might expect from a typical sequel. The desire to subvert going so far as to cause the filmmaker to claim this is a musical, but this is true only in so far as the characters sometimes burst into sing-songs that further highlight their emotions in ways intended to deepen our understanding of these aforementioned psyches yet these moments never transcend the reality or develop into full-on musical numbers. The splitting of hairs between avoiding the obvious path of a ‘Joker’ sequel and committing to being something else entirely gives the result an unbalanced feeling, as if the ambition and desire are present but the passion to execute is not. Somehow, this identity crisis becomes the main text of the film, which is an interesting idea, yet in addition to feeling unbalanced, the film becomes a tedious experience where the overarching intent is never quite clear. The film even goes so far as to acknowledge how much the Arthur character wanted to do what the audience expected him to do, for him to give them the Joker they're begging for, but instead simply admits he could no longer carry on the facade, essentially coming clean about his state of mind during the murders and how desperate he is to begin anew - conveying to the audience and more specifically, the fanbase, that they may want to do the same. Admirable, bold even, but not always entertaining.
 
Speaking of entertainment, the idea of this being a full-on musical feels more like a bit after having seen the film, though not one the film nor Phillips was necessarily committed to. Was he simply trying to provoke a fanbase known for getting up in arms about the slightest interpretation changes to their holy canon? Possibly, but the casting of Lady Gaga would suggest he was willing to take the bit pretty far. Also implying a fondness for the melodic is Phillips' choice to have Vincente Minnelli's 1953 film “The Bandwagon” seemingly serve as a prime source of inspiration (his relationship with sources does, in fact, continue here). That film, starring Cyd Charisse and Fred Astaire, was about an aging movie star uncertain of his future who teams up with a top ballerina to headline a new Broadway musical, but the pretentiously artistic goals of its director threaten to change it beyond recognition. In other words, don't fret if you feel called out by ‘Folie à Deux’ because Phillips is making fun of himself too. Phillips and co-writer Scott Silver specifically use the "That's Entertainment!" number from that film to both imbue a sense of that era of backlot movie musicals onto their production but mainly utilize it to highlight (and dismiss) that much of what Fleck's doing is “just a performance” and that he, more than anyone around him, sees all of it as if “it’s all theater” as he genuinely gets upset should anyone attempt to make it about themselves, taking the spotlight away from him. Ultimately, the crux of the film is Arthur finally having to accept his place in the society that bred him. Despite the slight glimmer of hope offered here, Fleck is not dealing in reality as reality is forcing him to come to terms with the fact those professing their adoration for him are doing so for Joker and not Arthur Fleck. In an even more depressing turn, by giving up the fantasy that is the Joker character, he realizes that a slight glimmer of hope wasn't the exception but the definition of the rule. 

If Phillips were going to paint this as a musical and cast Lady Gaga as one of the two leads, though, it would feel like a missed opportunity not to go big or go home, as, unfortunately, ‘Folie à Deux’ just hangs around.

While the opening Warner Bros. cartoon is a fun idea and more or less sets up that aforementioned central text/internal conflict, it was a mistake not to intro with a huge song and dance sequence in the vein of those golden Hollywood-era productions it's drawing (some kind) of inspiration from. This would have both given the audience a particular set of expectations immediately as well as standards for the film itself to sustain throughout, but given the film is actively trying to defy every possible expectation every possible viewer could have, nothing - especially the musical sequences - go nearly as big or as ballsy as they should. Are the breaks from the bleakness welcome? Sure, but only Phoenix’s courtroom performance of a song aptly titled “The Joker” hints at what could have been as this idea that the Joker of this film is relegated mainly to Fleck's subconscious dreams and/or fantasy sequences and doesn't make an appearance in the actual reality of this film until well past the hour mark comes to feel more like a scapegoat than a storytelling choice. 

Though Lady Gaga's Lee Quinzel enters the picture almost immediately, her increased presence in Arthur’s life cracks the code on how much of a martyr Fleck is being positioned as and how much of a monster the people and the system that failed him are. At first glance, Phillips and Silver's screenplay seems to suggest that at the heart of even the worst of humanity are people who want to feel special, if not loved, primarily by at least one other person who understands and supports them in the deepest, most meaningful of ways. After Fleck's childhood and the treatment, he received from his mother, Arthur is thrilled to encounter someone who is not only infatuated with him but who openly declares she would do anything for him. Much like with the story here, it seems this relationship would take on more depth as it continues, yet sometimes, the longer we know people, are conditioned to their ways, and become accustomed to them being around, the less special they begin to feel. The initial period of a relationship when feelings are intense, and the person you're falling for is more an idealized entity than a real human being is what is commonly referred to as the "honeymoon phase" and applies to ‘Folie à Deux’ because such feelings are what make up the entirety of Joker and Harley Quinn's relationship in this film. While the execution of the musical numbers is underwhelming, the characterization of this relationship is most disappointing. How the film posits the dynamic is not the issue - it’s a real connection, love even, that makes Fleck hopeful and gives him the sense of purpose he's been searching for - but instead, it is how transparent Lee's intentions are, and in many ways how predatory they seem (which are surely present to reinforce who the real monsters of the piece are) yet for all the thematic heavy-lifting this relationship is meant to do to get Fleck from where he begins to where the film ends, there is never a sense these two people could build that mountain together - not even when starting with a hill.

It's hard not to make this sound like a dreadful experience, and while it certainly isn't enjoyable, it has its redeeming qualities that at least make it a fascinating case study of playing by your own rules. Phillips is a director I've always appreciated, likely because of my age and the kinds of movies he made in my teens and into my early 20s. His somewhat smug and sadistic sense of humor that made his characters always seem as if they were looking down on you for not taking the same kind of pleasure in the dirty jokes and vulgar acts they enjoyed participating in will always resonate with certain sections of the youth, and Phillips was able to tap into that for a large swath of an entire generation. On top of that, it didn't hurt he has this pristine sense of style and atmosphere that elevated his comedies from low-brow, middle-of-the-road comedic vehicles to art pieces with more of a twisted sensibility than one might expect. A callous, perverted sense of humor is exactly the type of personality one would seemingly need to craft a standalone ‘Joker’ film and his 2019 original created this mythic tale around how a disturbed individual, in the right set of circumstances, might be inspired to become what he believes necessary to remedy others from those same, undesirable circumstances. This recognizable IP and infamous villain transformed into an epic fable when paired with his visual stylings and Hildur Guðnadóttir's score. 

If there is a single reason to seek out this sequel in the largest format possible, it is for some of the genuinely incredible imagery Phillips and cinematographer Lawrence Sher have composed (a lot of extended takes with hypnotizing camera movements) that, again, when paired with Guðnadóttir's score, give way to immediate chills. Despite the inspirations not being as populist or recognizable this time, the source texts reveal themselves and clarify that Phillips and Co. didn't have as much of a handle on how best to interpret despite knowing where they wanted to take the character. My favorite moments of the film are when Arthur laughs at inappropriate times along with some of his expressions/reactions to different witness statements, while the centerpiece Joker scene in which he questions Leigh Gill's Gary Puddles functions as the catalyst it is intended to yet ultimately feel too little too late in a film whose pacing is its enemy. 

“Joker: Folie à Deux” is not as consistent as its predecessor but is still interesting enough in both the familiar turf it treads and the bold swings it takes that it can't help but provoke admiration for its ambition, even when it's not always satisfying.

It would be easy to think of “Wolfs” as a feature-length version of that one scene in “Ocean's Eleven” where George Clooney's Danny and Brad Pitt's Rusty "discuss" the right amount of people for the job they are getting set to pull. In many ways, that is likely exactly what writer/director Jon Watts (the Spider-Man ‘Home’ trilogy) was going for when trying to pick up from where he'd left off before entering the Marvel and Sony Spider-verse when all he had to his name was a Sundance standout starring Kevin Bacon called “Cop Car.”

​Two dudes, in rooms, assessing one another while remaining highly self-aware at the same time. Though George and Brad might not know much about multiverses and the like (well, George might), what both of these credible but aging movie stars do know is how to pull off the balance of tone that Coen brothers' films do so well and if “Cop Car” was anything, it was a loving homage to the bleak eccentricities the Coens typically highlight in both their worlds and their characters.

With “Wolfs,” Watts has dug deeper into the neo-noir side of the Coens with what is a surprisingly but purposefully low-key chronicling of two hit men or "fixers" that tend to approach their grim, disheartening work in good nature, if not necessarily in jest. And despite the abundance of its subdued, sleek style that somehow makes it look simultaneously like a corporate confection as well as a thematic echo true to Watts' intent featuring fun banter and so many plot contrivances that the characters are searching for answers to the same questions audiences are asking themselves by the time we reach the climactic shootout what is most fascinating about the film is its meta-commentary on its two leading men, who they once were, where they currently sit in their careers and, of course, where they go from here.

“The 4:30 Movie” is a movie about watching movies. It's about seeing movies to make sense of life, not necessarily escape it. As saccharine as that may sound, Kevin Smith's “The 4:30 Movie” basks more in the glow of the sentimental than the typical gross-out vulgarity we've come to expect from him. It's his best-looking movie in a decade, even if it is not as thematically rich as “Clerks III.” And despite the fact it doesn't necessarily feel like a movie made in 1986 it somehow manages an authenticity that feels true to the spirit Smith wanted to capture. That is to say, the camaraderie of the three leads in Austin Zajur (who is dating Smith's daughter but stood out in 2019's “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark”), Nicholas Cirillo (whom I was convinced had to be Skeet Ulrich's offspring) and Reed Northrup (who I hadn't seen before but has plenty of Brian O'Halloran energy) goes a long way.
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It's not a cornerstone of cinema, but a cornerstone of cinema isn't what Smith set out to make. It is a well-meaning and good-natured nostalgia trip with plenty of notable touches (yelling at friends so they don't miss a commercial, guessing how many previews will play and debating which ones you'd rather see, and coming up with workarounds for R-rated movies when you're on the edge of 17) that all contribute to building the kind of film Smith did intend to make: a love letter to not just movies, but movie theaters, and the countless experiences and memories cineplexes housed for him.

In addition, this helped me realize that all Catholic moms are the same, no matter if they are from Jersey or Texas, that Justin Long remains an underappreciated national treasure, Adam Pally still deserves more and that it's always a treat to see Sam Richardson and Diedrich Bader ham it up. And finally, if nothing else, I'll forever hold a soft spot for “The 4:30 Movie” for confirming my dad wasn't the only one who repeated "pork chops and applesauce" well into the ‘90s.

Taking the concept of a certain modern masterpiece and focusing more on class and gender than racial politics, Zoë Kravitz’s directorial debut “Blink Twice” means to illustrate the complicated web (wealthy) men weave to realize their simplest whims. Absolutes are always touchy, but the charismatic ensemble, crisp editing style and very intentional soundtrack and sound design let us know Kravitz means business both thematically and in terms of entertainment value.
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Most appealing about “Blink Twice” is Kravitz's clear obsession with image coordination and consistency, which allows the film an aura of cohesion that works with the themes of solidarity and women choosing to support rather than compete. Still, Kravitz (who also co-wrote the script) doesn't allow the elegance of her imagery to detract from the ugliness of her character's actions and the ideas they are used to signify. Kravitz says all men want/desire is for pretty women to indulge and praise them - even for our smallest wins - and while I won't necessarily argue the point, what she's really exploring and eventually dissecting is the power dynamic women have been conditioned to sustain with men and of course, naturally, how to break that dynamic.

Despite a not-so-subtle "burn it all down" act of symbolism in the final moments and the fact this will likely benefit from a second viewing, “Blink Twice” is far too contemplative and considered in its tone and compositions to be dismissed as little more than a #MeToo companion piece. A shot where Channing Tatum is framed in the background standing over a desk as Naomi Ackie cowers underneath in the foreground hits like a truck while a dinner table sequence in which so much is said, understood, and conveyed without a single line of dialogue being spoken crystalizes the core ideas of the film so well it almost didn't need the surrounding paragraphs of the movie to emphasize its point. Adding some Chaka never hurts, either.

As for specifics on the aforementioned charismatic ensemble, both the casting and performance of Geena Davis are a genuine highlight. Simon Rex has one job and makes the most of it. I wish there'd been more for Haley Joel Osment to do, but Adria Arjona continues to cement her star power and Baby Hawke No. 2 has some solid line readings, "What do you mean? We’re such nice guys!" There is an insert shot of Christian Slater that is just ... the best, while C-Tates remains one of the GOATs in a role that requires him to use his charming, comforting image in order to accomplish the most abusive and exploitative actions. It worked for me.

Have you seen those videos of Cracker Barrel updating its classic look to more of the modern farmhouse style? And while watching it you can feel the soul that was once there being sucked from the establishment? That's kind of what watching this new version of “The Crow” feels like.

​In the 1994 film, Eric Draven was a rock musician, but he's barely a DJ in this new film.

Remember that movie “I, Frankenstein”?? Yeah, me neither, but Letterboxd tells me I saw it. I imagine my relationship to this movie will largely be the same.

Anywho. Brought to you by the guy who cheated on his wife with Kristen Stewart in 2012, this retelling of the story based on the 1989 comic book series by James O'Barr broadens the context and fills in details where the original film remained vague and, thus, more mysterious. Rupert Sanders’ film lacks the style - and frankly, the insanity - that allowed Alex Proyas’ film its distinctive flavor. The fleshing out and over-rationalizing of Draven’s myth does the opposite of what’s intended, making the character and his plight predictable and bland rather than enigmatic and epic.

The most epic thing in this version is the Enya needle drop. And I like Bill Skarsgård well enough, but my man tried to pull a Christian Bale here, and it didn’t work out. His final act and the climactic action sequence are generally pretty punk rock. Still, FKA twigs' Shelly going back to her friend’s apartment knowing the baddies are on her scent, those same bad guys not thoroughly disposing of a body they didn't want to be found ... there's just a lot of dumb decisions all the way around.

“The Instigators” is a buddy comedy with robbers instead of cops, but when the buddy chemistry is so effortless that the comedy grows organically from Matt Damon and Casey Affleck's camaraderie, the way it does, all Affleck's script and Doug Liman's direction had to do was be sturdy enough to support all the seasoning these two defining factors were adding to it — and they do, bountifully so.
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Having never been to Boston but I have to imagine “The Instigators” does a damn good job of making both Bostonians proud as well as making those not from the area get a real sense of what the city and its people are like. For example, the Massachusetts State Police picking fights with officers from Vermont after a failed car chase because neither could pin down the fugitives is some real "in the spirit of" shit.

These details are included in everything from the smallest character interactions to large-scale set pieces. They are so consistent and feel so precise that they are ultimately what separates the film from everything else in the otherwise (over)crowded genre.