More an editing masterclass than anything I’ve seen credited as such. Marker weeps (as do I).
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Babylon (Damien Chazelle)
I liked the part when they questioned whether audiences want synchronized sound in movies, then a big wet shitting effect played. Blatantly cribbed from superior films such as "Singin' in the Rain", "2001: A Space Odyssey", and "Boogie Nights" (already in part inspired by the priors), "Babylon" constantly feels like a gross exaggeration made with modern sensibilities that betray the history. That Chazelle continues to get his projects financed is a miracle that must be stopped.
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Banshees of Inisherin (Martin McDonagh)
Must have been absurdly hilarious on paper but is accomplished in a way that forces all but its biggest laugh lines tongue-in-cheek. That said, it oddly flies by as it casts something of an existential dread spell through its isolated setting.
Bardo: False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths (Alejandro González Iñárritu)
Despite minor dashes of (likely deliberate) rhythmic imperfection throughout, "Bardo" would be an absolute knock-out if not for its several runtime-extending dalliances in Sokurov-esque historical identity that do feel culturally meaningful but fall short of impacting the otherwise emotionally rocking meditation on death, life, and everything between. With the film's many great moments Iñárritu marries a Larry David-like whimsy to representational imagery bold enough that it would feel both too obtuse and too on-the-nose if it wasn't so cuttingly true to modern existence.
Batman Returns (Tim Burton)
A child of the ‘80s and ‘90s who recalls the film’s heyday but was restricted from seeing it as it was deemed “too scary”, I’ve heard for decades how “Returns” is for many the best Batman ever put to screen. Having just watched “The Flash” at a point where my enthusiasm for the superhero genre has never been more forgiving, having recently reminisced about how widely reliable Burton’s track record used to be, having maintained measured expectations due to negative memories of the ‘89 predecessor, and having downed a few watery beers on an empty stomach, I was never going to be more receptive to finally taking this thing in than I was tonight. And thank goodness for 5% alc./vol. because, still, yikes. Credit to the principles making what they could of their meatier scenes; without them we’d just have a couple cartoony hours where stuff happens because the script says so and the title character only shows up because the title obligates him to. It warrants repeating, even from this fan of the 2004 “Catwoman”: yikes.
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The Boogeyman (Rob Savage)
Nicely creepy ghoul-in-the-shadows sequences earn their jumps yet frustratingly shrink due to careless narrative structure. A surplus of purposeless side characters distracts from an overly familiar grieving allegory, wasting time that could have gone to building the better ideas on display (not to mention that cool creature design).
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Don't Worry Darling (Olivia Wilde)
Hinged on a reveal already tipped off by its premise, the amateurish and ultimately silly "Don't Worry Darling" attempts to subvert an illusion it never successfully establishes by looping through arbitrary images and dead-end red herrings in service of what was already a conceptual misfire on paper. A thorough disaster.
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DumbLand (David Lynch)
The Lynch production most identifiable as “From the director of ‘Eraserhead’”. The smartest thing to (never) appear on eBaum’s World. Peanut Butter Jelly Time. I fucking loved this.
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Dungeons & Dragons (John Francis Daley, Jonathan Goldstein)
Though more akin to “Mythica” than, say, “World of Warcraft” in modern fantasy fare (a comparison you may take as you will; I am a fan of both), this adaptation shares most with its direct box office contemporary “The Super Mario Bros. Movie” in that it primarily aims to please those experienced with its interactive basis. That concept seems to have become less risky in cinema as popular culture has moved more and more toward geek niche, and in this subjective case pays off through between-the-quips nuance one best appreciates as an experienced D&D roller. “Honor Among Thieves” hits its core beats effectively enough to play with the masses, though the notes will ring truest with those who have bellied up to the table fisting d20s and personalized stat sheets… and for that it will be celebrated.
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Everything Everywhere All at Once (Daniel Kwan, Daniel Scheinert)
Shockingly dumb and upsettingly interminable.
Evil Angels (Fred Schepisi)
When one finally watches the “dingo ate my baby” movie, one hopes it’s actually much better than its legacy suggests. One hopes the real impetus behind said legacy is a cuttingly raw marital yarn that only happens to contain a Meryl Streep dramatization of that yarn’s one absurd quotable. Whelp. The television-quality “Evil Angels” wades through a rehash of what was in its time a household story, focusing more on the timelessly cold - yet in this case wholly hackneyed - portrayal of exploitative media and irrational legal structures. It’s resonant and sympathetic (and, duh, Meryl is to credit for the rare striking moment), but the relentless dingo invocations are hardly worth experiencing in feature length.
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Friday the 13th Part II (Steve Miner)
No “Friday the 13th” beats the shabby ingenuity of the original, but Miner’s immediate follow-up earns its due. Where Cunningham’s economically derivative first gets Tom Savini’s genius, that Betsy Palmer climax, and plenty more to set it well apart, “Part II” cements the signature party movie feel with scene-for-scene thrills of all kinds along with creeping misdirection - drawn directly from its predecessor - that leads to several of Jason’s most classic moments. The central specter hadn’t quite found its iconographic mode yet, but what could have been the cheapest of cash-ins is in fact quintessential for its franchise.
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Friday the 13th Part III (Steve Miner)
When it comes to the infamous meat 'n' potatoes formula of the "Friday the 13th" franchise, "Part III" is the most pure entry. Jason introduces his lasting look with zero twists, plus a couple classic special effect moments as he carves through a cast only present for the purpose of being carved through. For these reasons "Part III" is widely considered the killer's optimal outing, and though I'll never place the first below the top I certainly never argued with that position prior to this viewing. Age and maturation certainly play into my shift here, though more than those I'd wager it's years and years of valuing what the series wrought only to realize upon further revisitation that its most critical lasting elements did not in fact originate where I'd previously assumed. Apparently it's just that easy to get wrapped up in the aesthetic swap between burlap sack and hockey mask! Miner returns to pick up more or less where he left off, though one would be forgiven for assuming someone new was at the helm as stylistic echoes of Cunningham's original from "Part II" are traded for pale imitations of specific moments including two of the very best scares in all slasherdom now rendered arbitrary in reproduction. Yeah we have the reputedly gimmicky ‘80s 3D now, though I'm far from radical when stating most of these moments make for memorable visuals with or without the cardboard glasses. As for narrative wrinkles, with neither Adrienne King nor Amy Steel agreeing to reprise their survivorgirl roles it's understandable a survivor backstory was wedged in for Dana Kimmell so this film's sympathetic vessel could have more going on than just looking so much like every other woman cast that we can only tell them apart by which boy they're with. This character's prior encounter with Jason is simultaneously the sequel's most interesting story element and its most extraneous. It's just as important as Laurie Strode being revealed to be Michael Myers' sister in "Halloween II". That is to say the reveal amounts to a single scene of intrigue before being all but forgotten. Most crucially, however, Miner and team had just the prior year set the template for the series moving forward. "Part II" is a party with nary a wasted moment, playing on what Cunningham, Savini, and the others crafted before them. Then, outside the amusement of what is essentially an opening short film set in a train-themed roadside mart, "Part III" often feels like we're just waiting around for the next kill to see if it's one of the flick's many forgettables or one of the few that would stand the test of our memories. So yes, in my mind "Part III" remains the purest "Friday the 13th" we got before the chronicles of Tommy Jarvis and Zombie Jason, et al, but no one is more surprised than I to accept that in being the purest it's also detrimentally the simplest... and what I'd previously considered a lesser installment in "Part II" is in fact the prime progenitor of what we love about the Jason Voorhees character.
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Friday the 13th: A New Beginning (Danny Steinmann)
Copycat slasher concepts are not inherently flawed, though the awkward reveal of “My Bloody Valentine” and the cop-out finish to “Halloween Ends” might steer one to feel otherwise. The idea that the now quiet yet provokable Tommy Jarvis was so deeply affected by his encounter with Jason that he’s plagued by visions and must ultimately confront his bogeyman in a different form is a compelling enough direction that, on its own, absolutely carries a continuation of a franchise that actually killed off its killer. The Zombie Jason we’d soon get with “Jason Lives” is a total blast, too, but the only reason “A New Beginning” becomes frustrating is in retrospect once the dawn of Zombie Jason throws away that Tommy angle that had been teased since the final moments of “The Final Chapter” and renders this fifth movie moot in continuity. Setting aside foreknowledge of the plot getting dropped, however, this is easily one of the more competent installments that relies heavily on character intrigue and sleight of hand - a stylistic new beginning in more than name only. Even the much-derided blue chevrons are a clever touch - though admittedly it took them several revisitations before proving as such. Through Tommy’s visions we get to admire still another improvement to the actual Jason look, whereas the alternately adorned copycat mask is similar enough to play while tipping to the keen eye - along with a couple conspicuous earlier close-ups - what’s really going on. If “New Beginning” makes any missteps it’s through an arguable overreach in body count fodder. Most of the victims are amusing pastiches, introducing an agreeable cartoony feel that would balloon with the next entry in direct contrast to more grainy bows from, say, Crispin Glover and Amy Steel. There are so many of these walking excuses for more boobs and blood, though, that many of them wind up feeling wasted simply due to the obligation to feed them through the grinder. “Friday the 13th” is widely unceremonious by design, and that’s mostly great, but it does frequently put the series in the position of literally cutting off its interesting subplots the instant they begin to develop. As goes Tommy Jarvis’ turn behind the mask, so goes the lunatic backwoods mother and the solemn drifter who just wants a taste of her stew.
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Friday the 13th Part VI: Jason Lives (Tom McLoughlin)
When Tommy Jarvis becomes a mash-up between Emilio Estevez and Woody Harrelson, Jason leaps into his lasting form with each subsequent film continuing to improve upon the appearance and mannerisms of our main man. Zombie Jason is the best Jason, and he would get better yet again with “The New Blood” (gotta love that chain remaining around the neck). From Alice Cooper and American Express to deadbands and Jean-Paul freakin’ Sartre, the very self-aware “Jason Lives” always stands out as the most fun “Friday the 13th”.
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Friday the 13th Part VII: The New Blood (John Carl Buechler)
Jason’s best look arrives just in time to cross over with his best actor for what is on paper the freshest take for the franchise since the beginning. “The New Blood” does widely deliver on its premise, too, if not quite to prior series highs. Inspired kills are detrimentally on hold for a couple movies here (save, naturally, for the sleeping bag), but at least the good ideas finally arrive with this one’s climactic showdown.
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Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan (Rob Hedden)
The Crystal Lake continuity comes to dubious end, though not one without ambition. It's really not all bad - the shift in setting shows potential, our now waterlogged killer makes for some creative gush, and the teeing up of New York City as scum in need of sluicing (the darkest side of the night, of course) is sufficiently enticing. Kane Hodder has Jason even more dialed in than for "The New Blood”, as well, and his positive influence on the production is routinely evident. This considered it's unfortunate the best actor beneath the mask had the least inventive slashing to do before "Jason X" rolled around. The most disappointing aspect of "Jason Takes Manhattan", though, isn't that its title promises one thing then primarily takes place on a river cruise but rather that it fundamentally whiffs as a furthering of the franchise's relatively consistent storyline. Now, "Friday the 13th" has never been logically perfect. Shoot, if you try to suss out a timeline this eighth and definitively 1980s entry takes place in something like 2002. Where "A Nightmare on Elm Street" has to totally change what makes Freddy tick from movie to movie, however, each "Friday the 13th" picks up more or less where the last left off with a discernible interest in key throughlines. Sure, the chevrons may shift here and there, but when our guy takes an axe to the face in "Part III" the battle wound is permanent. Yeah the Voorhees saga is an effectively simple one, but its attention to detail - albeit imperfect - makes it all the more rewarding to experience in full. This film does open with Jason still beneath the debris of the dock as he was last left. It even remembers that Jason no longer has a mask, as the one he'd managed to hold on to this whole time (thanks in part to Tommy Jarvis for nabbing it off-screen before "Part VI") was recently broken into pieces. "Part VIII" then decides that not only does Jason's first post-dredging victim erroneously have a hockey mask, the mask even more erroneously has a gash in its forehead identical to the old one. A nit-pick? If so, then we move to examine the new survivorgirl's visions of a drowning young Jason. It was memorably shown in 1980 that Jason's appearance was aberrant from youth, and it is arguably implied that is why he was neglected and subsequently died, but "VIII" contrarily decides to flash images of an average-looking boy who decomposes in the water. What's more, our new protagonist being able to see these flashes because she once also drowned in the same body of water is hinted at but not confirmed until far too late into the running time. The filmmakers were going for a theme that would pay off with an awkward final look at Jason's child form as the sympathetic resolution, but it never comes together and can at worst mislead one to think the character has literally transformed into his younger self (at least based on embarrassing personal experience prior to this clearer viewing). Looking even further, first-time writer/director Hedden is trading in unmotivated retreads of prior series tropes while also toying with spatial logistics that stretch to breaking what we've previously seen Jason's M.O. to be. Should we want to forgivingly applaud the varied efforts to make the most of the river cruise setting, we'd have to do so while sitting through sequences that simply do not work due to their blatantly amateurish crafting. It all leaves us with several wrong turns too many that arrive at an end point for Jason's sequential narrative both too divergent and too stuck to the basics. With corrected flashbacks, a couple better kills, and - hear it out - a Jason who recognizes and ultimately empathizes with the girl who nearly shared his fate (whom he does actually rescue from the aforementioned scum at one point), one wonders how passable (if not great) this one could have been before "Jason Goes to Hell" would toss it all out the window.
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The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies (Peter Jackson)
Though overall I am quite a big fan of Jackson’s “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy, it has always been the case that the first was the only truly great entry and - while the experience all told is still one of a kind - issues arise upon the splitting of the Fellowship and with it the focus. Now giving a second look to this prequel trilogy with the benefit of no longer having high hopes for it, escaping into the thoroughly realized Middle Earth is much easier but the same problems remain. Hell, even with that forgiving lens I still unwittingly took an almost exactly two-year break from it after “The Desolation of Smaug”. Among other things, holding “The Hobbit” back following its fraught production are wanting visual effects, a MacGuffin to end all MacGuffins, a big bad who’s mean and ugly for the sake of being mean and ugly, and most of all a party of heroes with less individuality than members of a boy band (IE the bald one, the fat one…) who consequently take away from the titular heart of our story as they make it impossible to care about them the way Bilbo does. With the revisitation, though, I will proffer that this - previously seen by me as a wanton last gasp that plays at best like one fifth of a Shakespearean Cliff’s Note with awkward prequelitis - is actually the best of its trilogy for the very reason that its singed setting gets us back to some form of what worked at the core of “Fellowship” - it sticks to one conflict throughout, and no matter how large the cast becomes along the way every character brought in is concerned with that same singular conflict to the end. Unlike even Jackson’s superior Middle Earth films since 2001, “The Battle of the Five Armies” thrives when it does because of its focus. Even with another swarm of CG eagles swooping in for the save, it thrives just enough for its emotional crescendos to sneak up on you if you let them.
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Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday (Adam Marcus)
If the confused flashbacks, bizarre evil laughter sounds, and Darth Vader breaths weren't glaringly out of place enough in "Jason Takes Manhattan", now New Line has the wheel and they're just doing their own damn thing. As it turns out, that thing here is making sure Jason gets a crack at the same forced family lineage angle both "Halloween" and "A Nightmare on Elm Street" had already faceplanted with by this point. Nine straight-forward movies in and giving Jason a sister makes about as much sense as also suddenly deciding Jason's heart has been an evil entity all along, passing itself from body to body. Thankfully "Jason Goes to Hell" includes an exposition dump character who knows all of this for... some reason probably. Similar explanation could be assigned to most of this movie's thoughtless gruel of events, which widely sideline Kane Hodder in favor of random possessed schmoes. Hodder's maskless cameo does tickle, though. And hey, the effect for that one guy's jaw adhering to the floor does at least create one cool lasting memory. Jason's mask embedding into his own head is also, y'know, an idea! The core concept of a slasher inhabiting the bodies of their victims isn't poor on the face of it, either. You certainly don't need some random review to point you toward John Carpenter's "The Thing". Just about everything the alleged "Final Friday" attempts, however, is either objectively poor in execution or it was plain rotten from genesis. Even if "Jason Goes to Hell" was an entirely original IP, it would still be a massive misfire among the worst major releases of its subgenre. As an official "Friday the 13th" film, it just makes we comparatively spoiled Voorhees fans hang our heads in shame.
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Jason X (James Isaac)
Yes, from the reviewer who finds the maligned and spaceship-set "Bloodline" to be the best "Hellraiser" sequel, here comes a bunch of sentences attesting why "Jason X" is the best "Friday the 13th" to follow its unmatched original. I'll personally confess that in rewatching through the equally beloved and ridiculed franchise yet another time, I was ready for this new millennium cash-in to strike me well below where it has previously. Set aside is all subjective sentimentality of the film being - gulp - the first Jason movie I ever saw. Where "Part II" cemented what the series would be moving forward from Cunningham's progenitor, though, "X" delivers on that formula more than anything preceding or yet succeeding it. A total rush of an experience, the observably early aughts feature takes faithfuls of Crystal Lake's sympathetic sentinel on an exponentially thrilling ride through the best material Kane Hodder had to work with beneath the mask. Our dear slasher's nigh invincibility is tested against the rigors of "Alien"-esque future craft, and each time his machete slices through reinforced steel in signature fashion it elicits more and more fist-pumps. While being primarily for fun, "X" also manages to respect Jason's roots more than even some of the highest of prior highs. The four-century setting leap not only keeps with the continuity closer than select prior examples, but also allows for a survivorgirl with the most believable connection to the events since 1980's Alice. Along the way we are also treat to sequences bearing more in common with Hammer's and Universal's monster movies than most slasher fare consciously aims for. Michael Myers may be the subgenre’s Godzilla, but Jason is its King Kong - and goddamn if Kong in space isn't an utter blast.
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Kimi (Steven Soderbergh)
Soderbergh gave us 13 consecutive years of great movie after great movie before “Kimi” came along. Incredible run.
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M3GAN (Gerard Johnstone)
When the seeds formula clearly plants just make you want to see them reaped all the more, you know the “RoboCop”, “2001”, “I, Robot”, “Terminator”, and even “The Shining” influences are paying off. A very smart movie.
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The Menu (Mark Mylod)
Schlocky Buñuel that could kick the sophistication up a notch and become much greater, but is thoroughly entertaining satire as plated. Someone forgot to properly level the tripods for those pans, though. I’ll take my emulsion bowl now (rewatch of “The Pest”, perhaps?).
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The Owl House: Watching & Dreaming (Bosook Coburn, Bridget Underwood)
Of course it sucks Disney canceled “The Owl House”, and it’s logical to surmise these concluding mini-movies are overstuffed for that reason - Terrace and the team cramming before the door slams on their collective foot. After the inspired first season, though, season two had already brought on such over-stuffing through a counteractively bloating cast and more major plot points than we can fully process from episode to episode. So this compromised trilogy may simply be a slight variation of what had been coming anyway. This finale feels like two seasons packed into less than an hour, with an episode’s worth of development every couple minutes. Some developments recall the series’ early peaks, while others dwell on useless elements like the Rain character. Some read in part like creators sticking it to their carrier since they can’t get double-canceled. Considering the evidence, it’s tough to trust all that would have improved much had the show continued. Yet, once the climax hits and the intro theme plays with magical animation swirling everywhere, it’d be a lie to claim the ultimate landing was missed. All told about half of “The Owl House” may be dubiously designed, but in the end it revolves back to what originally kept us at the table.
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The Pale Blue Eye (Scott Cooper)
Bale is naturally phenomenal, feeling the weight of his pauses between words and exhibiting subtleties so great he will shift nary a thing about his expression and you can still pinpoint the moment his character's psyche breaks in two. Cooper's tone is casually winning, and consistent throughout apart from an expository moment here or there utilizing techniques seen nowhere else in the film as if to patch over deleted scenes. What holds this back from being more than a suitable diversion is that it's a murder mystery in which much of the investigation takes place through a procession of willingly offered testimonials that barely require our protagonist's intervention. Among the spare deductions are a few moments - perhaps all too obvious ones - that do allow us to remain a step or three ahead, adding to what is overall a satisfying experience if not a particularly memorable one.
Rebel Moon: Part One - A Child of Fire (Zack Snyder)
I was immediately drawn in by how Rebel Moon feels like an uncompromised realization of a long-gestating vision, and possibly in part a tribute to Snyder’s late daughter. As the movie dwells and dwells (and sometimes contrarily zips forward) I kept waiting for the pacing to falter, but ended up finding the vast majority of individual scenes to be quite resonant. Like, how many drawn out planet-hopping character introductions can actually land? Turns out pretty much all of them, for me. I was even okay with how very close it blatantly draws from "Star Wars" because the tone and details of the Lucas rips were different enough. If anything is needed, it's getting-to-know-you scenes on the ship between planets. Sadly the film does end up betraying itself with a small-feeling climax that despite its backdrop plays like a couple actors tussling on a green screen. The action in general is hit and miss; I found myself rapt by some sequences and zoning out through others. But hey, I felt like I got dropped into a wondrous universe and understood everything I needed to about the setting and motivations, and I’m compelled to see all the introductions in this part pay off in the second.
Sea Countrymen (Vittorio De Seta)
Via wave-tossed film and tape despite the limiting confines, de Seta beauteously encapsulates circumstantial fraternity as sprung from one of the last generations of Sicily’s pre-industrial maritime traditions. More miraculous with every further moment of consideration, let alone every wistful viewing.
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Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, Justin K. Thompson)
The follow-up to the the best Spider-Man film we’ve yet seen is an overlong TikTok with form that wears itself to the point of cannibalizing its function. Not much feels forfeit, though, as that function - apart from a couple nice supporting father characters - is a Citadel of the Ricks Xerox that fails to complete a worthwhile feature arc before relieving us with its "Silence of the Lambs" cliffhanger.
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Sr. (Chris Smith)
It’s nice that Robert Downey, Jr. did “Sr.” for his father (and, really, for the purpose of his own grieving), but not only did I as an outside viewer not get much of anything out of it, I also didn’t learn anything significant that I didn’t already know about the elder’s career (which is not the highest bar as I’ve only seen “Putney Swope” and gathered other bullet points in passing over the years). Thinking on the eulogistic piece further I can say it's nice how Sr. himself is shown to be involved in influencing how it should be shot and edited - a commemoration of a filmmaker that exhibits a whiff of his own filmmaking knack. "Nice” about sums it up, though, and there just isn’t much more on the bone for those who didn’t know the guy personally.
