Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (Ryan Coogler)
The most important beats may be fully discernible after only a few scenes, but out of unenviable circumstance Coogler - no stranger to a somber tone - has crafted a satisfyingly plot-driven blockbuster event in the now practically throwback mold of James Cameron. “Wakanda Forever” is of course beholden to an inferior if popularly resonant predecessor as well as its place in the ongoing MCU canon, but stands on its own as much as any of this gargantuan franchise’s individual pieces has. Letterboxd.
The Bob's Burgers Movie (Loren Bouchard, Bernard Derriman)
What you'd expect in the sense that a bigger animation budget means an extra layer of shading and a lot of CG… yet they couldn’t get Bill Hader back to voice his character for half a scene and part of a song? It feels more like a long episode of the regular show where the "South Park" or "Simpsons" movies felt like bigger events, and it gets off to a very dull start but between the catalyst and the climax a good enough time is to be had with at all the same stuff one usually enjoys with this program.
The Bubble (Judd Apatow)
Absolute disaster of a production that... actually kinda gets by because it’s about a disaster of a production? Some of the absurdist beats land, and some of the situational humor is helped by Apatow’s experienced Hollywood perspective. That said, you can go back and underline 'disaster'. A few times I actually rewound scenes thinking I must have nodded off and missed something… but no, it’s just that disjointed (which isn’t excused by the same we’re-in-on-it coda "Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back" used two decades ago). Still better than "Funny People".
The Card Counter (Paul Schrader)
Framed before the instantaneous successes and failures teased by the gambling world's flashing prism, Oscar Isaac's stoic visage slices through Schrader's locked-down surety in "The Card Counter" - part "Hard Eight" with less deliberately vague an insight into Sydney's perspective, part statement on 21st Century American fatalism without 'tilting' into being an 'issues' movie.
Framed before the instantaneous successes and failures teased by the gambling world's flashing prism, Oscar Isaac's stoic visage slices through Schrader's locked-down surety in "The Card Counter" - part "Hard Eight" with less deliberately vague an insight into Sydney's perspective, part statement on 21st Century American fatalism without 'tilting' into being an 'issues' movie.
Casino (Martin Scorsese)
The main difference between "Goodfellas" and "Casino" is really that the cinematography in the latter is on such a higher level of sophistication. Just in terms of Marty's mafia pics, "Goodfellas" is already a leap forward from "Mean Streets", and Casino is another leap forward from that. "Casino" could easily be taken as a companion piece to its predecessor in the way it's laid out, but where "Goodfellas" romanticizes the violent world of scumbags turning on each other, this is one demonizes it. It's scummy and violent but it's presented in a way that makes you want nothing to do with it. Plus Sharon Stone is incredible as a prostitute who is just falling to utter pieces more and more as the story progresses. That said, I don't love the movie; I just think it's very well made with very few things detracting from it. It does, however, have a number of extraneous sequences and plot points that slow down its otherwise consistent energy, and I feel it'd be a significantly better film if it was closer to the 2-hour mark. Also, I don't know if Don Rickles had debts or if his casting was just a prestige thing or a buddy thing but he's totally wasted. DeNiro and Pesci are playing the same characters they were already best known for at the time, and yet through his several scenes Rickles doesn't hurl a single insult while overseeing the removal of cheating gamblers. It's just irresponsible writing. NXT 8 Years Back (subscription required)
Chip & Dale: Rescue Rangers (Akiva Schaffer)
Left-field references so rapid fire I was exhausted at the halfway mark, but of all of them I never expected a nod to “Midnight Cowboy” let alone three. Letterboxd.
Clerks III (Kevin Smith)
I still like “Clerks”. After my days of wearing out Smith VHS tapes, I continued liking the man’s work consistently enough to remain agnostic when it became (even more) self-indulgent in recent years. The scale tips somewhere, though, and with “Clerks III” Smith is worshiping at the altar of his own cult of personality. There are early glimmers that we’re in for a look at lifelong losers coming to terms with the fact that they’re still clerkin’ at age 50, but those glimmers ultimately only contribute to the tonal discordance in Smith’s love letter to himself. Even still there’s a clear chance for something to be salvaged in the end - to find some reason not to call this the worst Smith film since “Cop Out” - and it results in a swing and whiff so wide it sabotages any surviving forgiveness from the “well, at least they all had fun being together again” side of the brain. Then as if it wasn’t tarnished enough, Smith speaks over the end credits in the most self-important tone about just how wonderful “Clerks” really is. And again, I do still like “Clerks”. I agree. But damn, shut up, man. Letterboxd.
Don't Look Up (Adam McKay)
To this point I guess I’d figured Adam McKay was simply inept, but now it’s clear his choices are deliberate. Why would someone make a movie this way on purpose? Godard would love it.
Elf (Jon Favreau)
Worse than remembered, with barely a complete story. The first half is practically just a sequence of Will Ferrell non-sequiturs (due credit to the inverse "Midnight Cowboy" of apologizing after being hit by a cab) and the second half is a bizarre and unmotivated trudge through paying off the few things that were blatantly set up in the beginning, forcing the obvious conclusion out of obligation as opposed to reason. While the Christmas spirit thing does work on a base level even if it seems to come from nowhere (the film states once or twice that people are believing in Santa less, but it is never shown - this New York is idyllic, not a place shown to be without spirit) it’s intermixed with the very 2003 sequence of Santa being chased by Nazgul-like cops. Apparently the helicopter shot of Ferrell trekking atop a mountain wasn't enough of a timely "Lord of the Rings" reference for Favreau. The best compliment can be paid to the cast. Ferrell is doing his thing for better or for worse. Caan is pitch perfect, naturally. Asner as Santa is funny simply because it’s Asner as Santa. Deschanel is earnest with the little asked of her. Steenburgen glows. Tay is actually rather likable as the little brother. Love makes the most of his few scenes. Sedaris is sadly wasted as a generic secretary, but the two bits with colleagues Gass and Richter pitching children’s book ideas are the funniest in the entire thing. Plus Dinklage just before people knew who he was. And Harryhausen briefly voicing an animated character? Alright!
Elvis (Baz Luhrmann)
Holy hell, Austin Butler. Movie plays like a giant music video and only proves fully worth the attention when its last act finally soars, but… holy hell Austin Butler. Letterboxd.
Eternals (Chloé Zhao)
Wonderful cosmic ideas, and this side of James Gunn some of the most a director’s voice has been permitted to shine through in the established Marvel Cinematic Universe. Unfortunate, then, that absolutely none of the prolongation ever comes together but rather stiffly stagnates until no conclusion remains but to call it one of the continuity’s worst outings. Letterboxd.
Ghostbusters Afterlife (Jason Reitman)
Extremely corporate. Apart from the lineage behind the camera, everything feels like a checklist of board room decisions in the interest of economically jumpstarting another possible nostalgia-based movie universe merchandising machine. So many elements would be frustrating if they came along with any reason to care about them at all. Like, if you’re going to have the granddaughter find a classic character’s glasses, why have her inexplicably wearing those exact frames up to that point? If you want that to be a moment, do something like giving her the quirk of constantly fiddling with her eyewear because she recently had to upgrade her lenses. She doesn't feel the doctor got them quite right, and she’s fiddling with them in every other scene. Then she finally finds the old glasses, wipes them off, and they’re perfect. The mother can even recognize them and inquire, only for the daughter to coolly quip back, "New prescription." It’s that easy, but, y’know, no time for that when you have to make sure Paul Rudd goes to a weirdly empty Walmart to get Baskin-Robbins for absolutely no reason whatsoever. At least the practical creature effects - when they were used - looked great.
Good on Paper (Kim Gatewood)
Openly jumping off from Shlesinger‘s uneven yet always positively memorable stand-up, this feminist flip on ingrained romcom expectation is conceptually inspired and plays out as if it would have been at home among classics of Hollywood’s golden age. Too bad it’s the 2020s and the goal is creating disposable efficiency shovel content for the algorichurn subscriptmendation. Letterboxd.
Goodfellas (Martin Scorsese)
"Goodfellas" is often compared to "Boogie Nights". The 1990s films share similar cinematic styles, and both follow wide-eyed young men who get taken in by surrogate families with a lifestyle that feels fantastical to the wide audience. The difference is that the "Boogie Nights" characters are likable despite their flaws, and you want everything to turn out well for them even when they lean dark because you feel they have good hearts and all love each other. In "Goodfellas" everyone’s a total asshole because of their flaws, and you want them to get taken down because they’re nothing but deviant scum cheating the system and hurting people. And when things finally turn in the end it’s only so the main character can selfishly save his own ass, after the external consequences have been minimized at that. He’s not someone righteous at his core who sees the light, he’s a sleazebag to the end who spends his life taking the easy way out of everything. The sudden stylistic shift in the sign-off whiffs big, as well. I might like "Goodfellas" better if the Karen character was the protagonist, as not only is she the one sympathetic and redeemable character but she’s the sole character in the movie who’s actually really affected by anything that happens. Sure, people get screwed, people get shot, people go to jail, but it’s all just the set progression of the spiral they’ve set themselves on so none of it is nearly as affecting as when Karen simply has an emotional reaction to any of it. NXT 8 Years Back (subscription required)
Halloween Ends (David Gordon Green)
Sometimes you just know the ending right when it’s teased, eh? Not necessarily a bad thing. Along with the benefit of subtler (read: less distracting in their relative naturalism) nods to the original, “Ends” expands the examination of the human evil Michael Myers represents that was on display more in “Kills” than any other Myers movie since 1978. Green takes a narrative detour historically dubious in slasher cinema and through it guides one of the most engaging “Halloween” films we’ve seen. That is until the supporting short film of a climax which by the time it arrives feels obligatory and ultimately detracts from the dichotomous themes preceding it. In retrospect, with some light remixing, “Kills” and “Ends” could be swapped in continuity for greater effect. Overall a worthy endeavor. Letterboxd.
The Harder They Fall (Jeymes Samuel)
Better than expected despite major 2007 Tarantino wannabe energy.
The Harder They Fall (Jeymes Samuel)
Better than expected despite major 2007 Tarantino wannabe energy.
Hellraiser (David Bruckner)
Call it a sequel, a reboot… imagine the new Hell Priest is in fact Kirsty Cotton if it suits you. Where we've ended up in 2022 is a half step between the unrelenting inspiration of this franchise's theatrical outings and the obligatory rights retention of its prior home release perpetuations. While several of the Weinsteins' cheap contract extensions rise above their purpose with readily apparent love for the rivetingly deviant franchise and even an interest in further exploring it rather than simply keeping it on life support, one needs but glance at the promotional art for the last couple entries to glean the brand had fallen into disrepair. While this "Hellraiser" can't be held to Clive Barker's original nor its first three follow-ups, it features enough Barker-approved lore suffusing where foolish humanity has deigned to prod that it practically cries out for a more grungy 1990s aesthetic as opposed to its overly sleek new millennium digital sheen. Reports of this production had many believing it would be a direct retelling of Barker's "The Hellbound Heart", and thankfully that is not the case at all. The 1987 film may have alternately adapted certain details from the companion text, but as such it is more sensible for its medium than had it retained minor elements like, say, Frank's ceremonial jar of urine. Barker's creations instead land in a relative sweet spot in their fifth calendar decade, though dedicated fans may wonder amid configurations more thoroughly ominous in and of themselves than ever... if we've lost the core concept of pain and pleasure, indivisible. Letterboxd.
Judas & the Black Messiah (Shaka King)
Manages to render subjects as interesting as Black Panthers and undercover agents boring by simply having characters flatly talk at one another for two hours.
Judas & the Black Messiah (Shaka King)
Manages to render subjects as interesting as Black Panthers and undercover agents boring by simply having characters flatly talk at one another for two hours.
Jurassic Park: Dominion (Colin Trevorrow)
With due respect to the VFX artists, stunt performers, COVID protocol folks and anyone else who worked tirelessly to bring it to the screen, the simultaneously overthought and undercooked "Dominion" is one of the least cinema-literate mounds of refuse that's been financed in the age of the soft reboot. Truly, it makes you wonder if the key people in charge have ever actually watched movies. Already behind the eight after the safely water-treading masquerades that were the prior two prestige-diminishing franchise installments (the second of which was arguably the worst major film of 2018), this imitation of dinosaur spectacle spews out the highest dinos-per-minute rate while utterly failing on every level to comprehend what makes its genre superiors effective. Visual beats are clumsily repeated simply for the sake of brand recognition. Concepts are introduced and disposed of in single sequences as if desperately dredged from a first draft dumping ground. Then, somehow surviving to the final product, is the fractured skeleton of a main narrative that locust swarms are in fact more threatening than the box office draw of massive prehistoric beasts retaking the planet. While the prime target young audience attending what was supposed to be the humans-getting-devoured event is failing to grasp an indirect menace of corporately manipulated bugs devouring human food sources, the humanoid dolls in the cast are covertly globetrotting as if wishing they were in a 007 flick instead. When Laura Dern had to mimick her 29-year-old moment of awe while being told she was looking at not her first glimpse of a living brachiosaurus but instead an empty wheat field, I hope she renegoiated her paycheck. Letterboxd.
Licorice Pizza (Paul Thomas Anderson)
In many ways, particularly cinematographically, the movie I’ve been waiting for Paul Thomas Anderson to make since his unrivaled masterpieces of the 1990s. Still, the curious vignettes with their wacky side characters more spotlighted than the principles, though packed with wonderful moments and loving details (I kept looking for Philip Baker Hall), amount only to a pleasant yet fleeting experience with little staying power especially when compared to the indelible ensembles of “Boogie Nights”, etcetera. Any real feeling associated here, as tribute is paid to those greats of PTA’s past, is simply a deepening of how rawly missed Philip Seymour Hoffman is and always will be. Letterboxd.
The Munsters (Rob Zombie)
If you hate Zombie, "The Munsters" would be a torturous hour and fifty minutes of next to zero plot and barely explicable production design. If you love Zombie, "The Munsters" is still terrible but it’s easy to get a kick out of the fact it exists in the deliberately cheap and stilted way it does, as well as some of the tongue-in-cheek stylistic decisions that just feel like Zombie being Zombie because he can. At the very least it’s highly .gif-able (and still better than “31”). There are even small elements that feel almost autobiographical for the Zombie couple - falling in love and seemingly being perfect for each other. If not a labor, the flick is perhaps a lark of love, and a harmless one at that. And hey, it's not like the "Munsters" show is sacred. It's always been fun but there's really nothing to ruin. Plus I can appreciate the sense of humor that casts the divine Cassandra Peterson then makes her wear cheap wicked witch prosthetics for most of her screen time.
Nightmare Castle (Mario Caiano)
Babs Steele: original cenobite. Letterboxd.
Nobody (Ilya Naishuller)
Cheeky in a way that doesn’t always play, with appealingly unreal kinesis not quite in balance with its grounded basis, but I’d’ve watched it a lot sooner had I known it features Jim from “Taxi” teaming up with The RZA to all but randomly start blowing away reams upon reams of nameless motherfuckers without blinking. Letterboxd.
Nobody (Ilya Naishuller)
Cheeky in a way that doesn’t always play, with appealingly unreal kinesis not quite in balance with its grounded basis, but I’d’ve watched it a lot sooner had I known it features Jim from “Taxi” teaming up with The RZA to all but randomly start blowing away reams upon reams of nameless motherfuckers without blinking. Letterboxd.
The Northman (Robert Eggers)
The thorough dive into the grimy setting is respectable, but the surface-level results wind up totally uninvolving to the point of being unintentionally comical. I also almost want to commend the thorough presentation of how dumb men can be, but by the end I was just thinking how dumb the main character himself was in every single scene... and sheerly lucky that the only people dumber than him were his enemies.
Obi-Wan Kenobi (Deborah Chow)
"Star Wars" has slowly but surely reached such a low point that you can do this plot that 12-year-old me would have been fascinated to see play out, and in the era of monetized nostalgia adult me feels absolutely nothing. Vader's up there swingin’ a saber and he may as well be generic villain #3 from a forgotten action movie. What a dog of a miniseries.
RRR (S. S. Rajamouli)
Tonally disjointed and overstays its welcome with copious subpar animation while only really getting by on the basics of revenge narrative and plain ol’ lookin’ cool, but I've definitely gone back and watched that one awesome dance sequence again and again.
Sonic the Hedgehog 2 (Jeff Fowler)
Takes almost every shortcut to avoid having an actual plot en route to simply providing the fanservice moments hungered for by its target audience (which is not in fact thirty-something males). A fast food kids' meal, but one of those is fine every now and again. On the side we get a bevy of unintentional laughs via limited effects work and the awkward framing of our interdimensional heroes as literal children living with James Marsden, plus a few intended ones via Carrey seeming like he simply filmed a day's worth of improvised green screen non-sequiturs that got patched in as a joke. So it's not dissimilar from the first serving, albeit now with Elba not quite connecting with his swing at "Guardians of the Galaxy" Dave Bautista. What must be seen to be believed, though, is just how very much time gets dedicated to a zany wedding subplot almost exclusively involving tertiary human characters. Paramount must really have needed to hit that two-hour mark. Letterboxd.
Sonic the Hedgehog 2 (Jeff Fowler)
Takes almost every shortcut to avoid having an actual plot en route to simply providing the fanservice moments hungered for by its target audience (which is not in fact thirty-something males). A fast food kids' meal, but one of those is fine every now and again. On the side we get a bevy of unintentional laughs via limited effects work and the awkward framing of our interdimensional heroes as literal children living with James Marsden, plus a few intended ones via Carrey seeming like he simply filmed a day's worth of improvised green screen non-sequiturs that got patched in as a joke. So it's not dissimilar from the first serving, albeit now with Elba not quite connecting with his swing at "Guardians of the Galaxy" Dave Bautista. What must be seen to be believed, though, is just how very much time gets dedicated to a zany wedding subplot almost exclusively involving tertiary human characters. Paramount must really have needed to hit that two-hour mark. Letterboxd.
Thor: Love & Thunder (Taika Waititi)
After every "Thor" to this point has been enjoyable - particularly "Ragnarok" under the otherwise less sufferable Waititi's watch - 'T4or' was an easy pocket cut. "Endgame" set up a new phase for the hero as he flew off with the endearing Guardians of the Galaxy, and we knew Natalie Portman would be returning to claim Mjolnir. Couldn't go wrong. Right? Alas, 'Thfour' disappointingly yet unsurprisingly casts the Guardians angle aside free of further substance, and the arc we do get fails to compel while relying far too heavily on what has historically been a more balanced comedic slant. Natalie Thor-tman doesn't even get to be all that cool, even if her narrative purpose is the most relatively affecting element on offer. The ingredients suggest '4: Love & Thunder' should have had a good movie somewhere in the mix even if the final plating failed to dazzle, but even that much cannot be stated.
Together Together (Nikole Beckwith)
Reclaiming Windsor, one title card at a time. Letterboxd.
Together Together (Nikole Beckwith)
Reclaiming Windsor, one title card at a time. Letterboxd.
Top Gun: Maverick (Joseph Kosinski)
Just as the Cruiser promoted it, an all-capital-letters MOVIE. Joins “Creed” among the best examples of a soft reboot that essentially remakes its original yet sensibly freshens the context as opposed to feeling like bait. (Letterboxd)
Turning Red (Domee Shi)
The post-analog, pre-smartphone aughts seemed indistinguishable as they were happening, but 2002 makes for an instantly identifying period in which to set what is essentially an updated “Teen Wolf”. Letterboxd.
Turning Red (Domee Shi)
The post-analog, pre-smartphone aughts seemed indistinguishable as they were happening, but 2002 makes for an instantly identifying period in which to set what is essentially an updated “Teen Wolf”. Letterboxd.
