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Review by Jonathan Berk  It never fails that come December, movie nerds will debate whether Die Hard qualifies as a Christmas movie. Well, director Jaume Collet-Serra's Carry-On feels like a spiritual sequel to Die Hard and Die Hard 2, aiming to be the next holiday action-thriller that frequents screens during the season. While it doesn't quite reach the heights of its inspirations, Carry-On still delivers enough entertainment to be worth checking out. Taron Egerton stars as Ethan, a TSA agent working on Christmas Eve in Los Angeles. At a crossroads in his life, Ethan decides it’s time to get serious about his career — but those plans are derailed when a mysterious traveler (Jason Bateman) coerces him into letting a dangerous package through security. Bateman as a villain works surprisingly well. His trademark dry sarcasm and smart-ass charm translate seamlessly into the role of a mastermind antagonist. Bateman’s character exudes calm control, and his portrayal as the smartest man in the room feels utterly convincing. Egerton, meanwhile, demonstrates once again that he has all the makings of a compelling lead, despite somehow seeming to always be just out of the limelight. Known for his standout roles in Kingsman: The Secret Service, Rocketman, and Eddie the Eagle, Egerton brings innate charisma to Ethan. His American accent is solid, and he sells the cat-and-mouse dynamic with Bateman, making their verbal and mental sparring a highlight of the film.  A robust ensemble cast supports them. Danielle Deadwyler plays an LAPD officer who catches wind of the chaos unfolding at the airport. Her storyline intersects with Ethan’s early on and provides a much-needed reprieve from the airport setting. Deadwyler, who has dazzled in dramatic roles like Till and The Piano Lesson, shines in this more action-driven part, showcasing her versatility.
Sofia Carson plays Ethan’s girlfriend, a fellow airport worker whose encouragement sparks his desire to get his life on track. While her role is initially minor, Carson gets more screen time in the third act, and her chemistry with Egerton makes the relationship and journey between these lovebirds compelling. The supporting cast also features Dean Norris, Sinqua Walls, Logan Marshall-Green, Tonatiuh Elizarraraz, and Theo Rossi, all of whom contribute to the film’s tension-filled airport setting. The chaotic holiday travel atmosphere, mixed with Bateman’s high-stakes machinations, gives this movie its Die Hard 2 vibes, leaning into the airport as both battleground and nightmare fuel. While the performances and story are the film’s biggest draws, its visuals leave something to be desired. At times, the lighting and cinematography feel more akin to a straight-to-TV movie than a cinematic spectacle. The action sequences, while effective, often rely on digital effects that lack polish. The car “chase” scene in particular feels either overly reliant on CGI or distorted by lens choices, creating a focus-breaking distraction rather than an immersive experience. Despite these shortcomings, Carry-On offers enough thrills and holiday spirit to make it a worthwhile watch. Collet-Serra has had his share of hits (Orphan, The Shallows) and misses (Black Adam, Jungle Cruise), and while Carry-On may not be a masterpiece, it feels like a step back in the right direction. Fans of holiday action-thrillers or Taron Egerton’s work will likely enjoy the ride, even if the film doesn’t soar as high as its predecessors. While some may not feel that a Netflix holiday action-thriller doesn’t qualify, it worked for me. Carry-On arrives on Netflix on December 13. Rating: 3/5
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Review by Jonathan Berk  James Mangold made the beloved musical biopic Walk the Line, starring Joaquin Phoenix as Johnny Cash, which was later parodied by Jake Kasden’s Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story, forever changing the way audiences view musical biopics. Now, Mangold returns to the genre with A Complete Unknown, an exploration of Bob Dylan, another musical icon of that era. While elements of the traditional biopic formula remain, this film feels more like a tribute akin to the old MGM Studios The Great Movie Ride — a cinematic ride through Dylan's life, full of admiration and allure. Both the audience and many of the other characters seem transfixed by Dylan, gazing at him from one key moment to the next, as we ride the wave of his musical genius. It’s very much a "vibe" movie, and if you click with it, you’ll find yourself completely engrossed throughout its two-hour and twenty-minute runtime. Timothée Chalamet stars as Bob Dylan, who arrives on the New York folk music scene in the early 1960s at just 19 years old. He’s come from Minnesota to visit Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy), who is bedridden in the hospital. Dylan sings to Guthrie and Pete Seeger (Edward Norton), and from there, he becomes part of the West Village music scene, rubbing shoulders with the prominent figures of that era. Dylan’s influence grows as the film moves from one musical performance to another, with each sequence depicting the forging of relationships along his journey all while guided by his iconic songs. Mangold portrays Dylan as someone whose magnetic personality effortlessly draws people in, and Chalamet captures that magnetism flawlessly. While I can’t speak to whether Chalamet's Dylan is technically accurate, I can say that his performance is undeniably captivating and demanding attention. Chalamet achieves this without needing to overact, relying instead on subtle gestures, body language, and an unassuming presence that somehow defies the draw he has. Whenever Mangold cuts to Elle Fanning, who plays Dylan's on-again, off-again girlfriend Sylvie, or Monica Barbaro, who portrays the equally iconic musician, Joan Baez, it’s hard not to understand exactly what their characters feel as they look at Dylan — whether it’s love, admiration, jealousy, or frustration — because we feel it, too. Chalamet has a unique way of bringing nuanced depth to his roles, and here, much of his talent comes from what remains unsaid. His enigmatic portrayal of Dylan taps into the mystique surrounding the musician, reminiscent of the many faces of Dylan presented in Todd Haynes’s I’m Not There, but with a more straightforward narrative that lets Chalamet explore those complexities.  The supporting cast is also quite strong, with Monica Barbaro standing out as Joan Baez. Her scenes with Chalamet crackle with tension, providing some of the film's most electric moments. Their chemistry is palpable, and the highs of the film often come when Dylan and Baez are together on screen. Edward Norton delivers as Pete Seeger and gets two memorable scenes that allow him to showcase his talents. Fanning’s portrayal of Sylvie is emotionally compelling, particularly in a moment where her character comes to a crushing realization—a scene she handles masterfully.
Other standout performances include Boyd Holbrook as Johnny Cash, Dan Fogler as Albert Grossman, and Norbert Leo Butz as Alan Lomax. They help shape some of the film's pivotal moments, and the scenes with Johnny Cash are particularly unforgettable. McNairy, portraying Woody Guthrie during his period of decline, has perhaps the toughest role in the film. He conveys depth and emotion through mostly nonverbal communication. Despite the challenge, McNairy’s understated performance speaks volumes. Adding to the impact of these performances is Mangold’s stylistic direction. From the way the camera moves lovingly around the musical performances, letting us sink into the songs, to the period-perfect costumes and settings, every aspect of the film’s production design immerses us in the era — and it’s just a joy to watch. It often feels as if we are there, witnessing musical history in the making. For viewers like myself, who may not be well-versed in this particular musical movement, it’s a compelling, almost educational experience. Mangold’s evident love for both Dylan and the era of folk music translates clearly to the audience, making this film feel like a celebration of an important musical moment. Unlike some biopics, A Complete Unknown doesn’t attempt to judge whether Dylan was a "good" person. The film shows questionable decisions and complex relationships, but it leaves room for the audience to draw their own conclusions. The central message is clear: Bob Dylan was an unparalleled musical genius, and his art is worth celebrating, regardless of his flaws. The film's true conflict seems to be that anyone would try to stifle Dylan’s creative brilliance—those who did were clearly misguided or selfish. A Complete Unknown will likely be divisive. It’s long, and diehard Dylan fans may take issue with some of the choices made by Mangold or Chalamet. However, for those without that baggage, who simply love music and vibrant storytelling, this film will be a joy. I connected with its tone early on and never doubted my enjoyment. A Complete Unknown is in theaters on December 25. Rating: 4.5/5 NICKEL BOYS -- A Powerful, Heart-Wrenching Film That Shines a Light on Humanity’s Darkest Corners12/9/2024 Review by Jonathan Berk  The real tragedy of humanity seems to be that every time we think we understand the depths of human horror, we uncover yet another atrocity. Just when we believe that humanity couldn’t sink lower, there’s a reminder of how evil we can be. While some might not turn to cinema for a history lesson that could lead to existential dread, it’s crucial to know what true evil looks like so we can recognize and confront it when it resurfaces. Nickel Boys, RaMell Ross's powerful adaptation of Colson Whitehead’s novel, inspired by the horrific story of the Dozier School for Boys, sheds light on the darkest corners of our world. This is a powerful, devastating film that demands to be experienced. Elwood Curtis (Ethan Herisse) is a young man with dreams of going to college and making a difference through civil disobedience in the ’60s. But an innocent mistake shatters his ambitions and lands him in Nickel Academy, a reformatory school deep in the Jim Crow South. Isolated and disillusioned, Elwood eventually befriends Turner (Brandon Wilson), and together they form an unlikely alliance. Elwood’s enduring optimism, even in the face of unimaginable cruelty, ignites a spark of hope in Turner. There’s no denying the emotional power this film holds. It’s one of the few times at a critic screening that the room was silent once the credits rolled—no murmurs, no whispered reactions, just the weight of the story settling over every viewer. Nickel Boys is a bleak reminder of the horrors we cannot ignore or allow. It’s hard to recommend lightly, as most will leave feeling shaken, but the storytelling and craftsmanship make it a must-watch. Ross makes a bold directorial choice by telling much of the story from a first-person perspective. The film opens with a character gazing at his hand while lying in the grass, and then at oranges on a nearby tree. For several moments, Elwood’s face remains unseen, only appearing in reflections or glances. Initially, this perspective felt challenging, but as the film progressed, Ross’s vision clicked into place, and the unique viewpoint became integral to the story’s impact. While I hope this style doesn’t become a trend, Ross’s use of it here feels entirely justified.  Herisse faces a unique challenge in this role, as he must convey emotion with limited traditional screen presence. Yet, despite these constraints, he brings Elwood’s personality, inner turmoil, and steadfast optimism vividly to life. Wilson serves as a powerful counter to Herisse’s performance. Turner’s confidence and edge contrast sharply with Elwood’s idealism, and Wilson’s screen presence is undeniable, adding depth to their complex friendship. Unforgettable performances and bold direction make Nickel Boys an absolute must-watch.
Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor also stands out as Elwood’s grandmother, offering some of the film’s most memorable moments. One scene, where she quietly speaks while cutting a slice of cake, is a simple act rendered unforgettable through her performance. Meanwhile, Hamish Linklater’s portrayal of Spencer, the head of Nickel Academy, is chilling. He doesn’t play a cartoonish villain but embodies an evil made terrifyingly mundane. Ross wisely leaves much of the horror to the imagination, but Linklater’s towering presence over the boys is enough to convey the unspeakable cruelty of Nickel Academy. Chillingly authentic, Nickel Boys leaves a weight on every viewer’s heart. Nickel Boys is a stark reminder that we cannot afford to be complacent. Stories of prison horrors are not new, but the abuse of imprisoned youths is even more harrowing, especially when society knows and allows it to continue. This film reminds us that allowing such mistreatment is unacceptable and that by ignoring it, we risk becoming complicit ourselves. Nickel Boys will be in theaters on December 13. Rating: 5/5 Review by Daniel Lima  Anyone used to exploring the depths of the low budget genre movies of yesteryear will be familiar with a particular kind of disappointment. You come across a film with an exciting title, a promising premise, and a cool poster: Dracula’s Dog, The Drifting Avenger, most giallo. Then you watch it and find that it’s mostly people standing around and talking to each other, with a handful of moments sprinkled about that capture that imagined greatness. Werewolves hearkens back to that ignoble tradition, but in the days of bloated, sanitized, impersonal studio IP movies, its shaggy contours become charming in their own right. “One year ago a supermoon turned millions into werewolves.” This ludicrous line opens the film, immediately setting the stakes and the tone. With a new supermoon about to rise, a crack team of CDC scientists seeks to test a way to prevent these transformations. Frank Grillo barricades the home of his brother’s wife and daughter before leaving to head the operation, as the world’s least convincing virologist. Naturally, things go awry, and both Grillo and his family must fight to survive the night. The ironically self-aware genre throwback has been a plague on modern cinema, and thankfully Werewolves avoids that trap by committing wholeheartedly to the silliness of its premise without ever tipping over into parody. Though many elements are fantastic and absurd — the gung ho neighbor, the repeated use of the word “moonscreen”, the monsters themselves, Frank Grillo playing a scientist — they are treated with the frankness and gravity they should demand within the context of this reality. Beyond providing the audience a level of buy-in that makes what happens feel like it matters, this straight-faced treatment of the material makes it even seem even goofier; I know I laughed every time someone said “moonscreen”, or a character did something that strained credulity, or an entire conversation did nothing but reiterate the obvious. That’s helpful, because one thing this movie has plenty of is filler. Even at barely over ninety minutes, Werewolves strains to engineer enough narrative momentum to propel it to the credits. There is barely any character work to speak of, with the action divided between Grillo’s homeward quest with his forgettable companion, and his forgettable sister-in-law alone at home with a forgettable child. The number of times the gruff man of action stops to just say, “We have to keep moving”, is truly baffling. As funny as it is at first, when it dawns on you that this will be most of the movie it becomes a tad less amusing.  The most confounding choice, however, is how the film looks. This would largely be in keeping with most modern low budget genre thrillers, if it werent’t for the lighting. Throughout the first set piece, when the titular creatures first rear their heads in a government facility, the lights are flashing so rapidly it creates a migraine-inducing strobe effect. Never before have my eyes been so physically discomforted by a movie; epileptics, stay away. More annoying is the amount of artificial lens flare, often overwhelming the screen to the point that it’s hard to make out what is happening. I can only imagine these choices were made to help obscure how cheap the actual werewolf costumes actually are, but it instead just makes the film an ugly mess.
It also obscures what is far and away the best part of the movie. Yes, these are practical werewolves. Yes, they are stiff, only vaguely dog-like,, and look like hair stuck to rubber or latex. Yes, they are awesome. For some reason filmmakers and audiences have decided that a fake, rubbery CGI creation that does not exist is somehow easier to believe in than a fake, rubbery piece of fake rubber that does. The latter, since it actually exists in physical space, allows for more interesting ways to shoot the monsters: they can share the frame with the heroes without breaking the illusion, interact with the environment to make them seem more of a threat, a scene can be staged without have to guess how it will look after post. As obviously artificial as they are, the magic of cinema quickly asserts itself, and you accept that these are dangerous, bloodthirsty predators. Are they utilized to maximum effect? Not quite. Again, the visual language of the film does undermine their appearances, along with some rapid editing to further make things unintelligible. Too often do the wolves appear only for nothing to actually happen, and as the finale draws near it does seem like they are rather easy to outsmart and outfight. That said, this movie is at its best when they are front and center, and towards they end it finally delivers on the high-octane lycanthropic thrills that one would hope for. Ultimately, Werewolves does fail to be a proper spiritual successor to the excellent Dog Soldiers, but in doing so hits on a particular niche appeal that is increasingly rare. It’s messy, it’s dumb, it’s occasionally boring, but when it works it works. If this movie had come out forty years ago, it might have looked and felt largely the same, spoken about today as a hidden gem of an era that looks even better in hindsight. Hopefully, the decades to come will see this in that same light. Werewolves is now in theaters. Rating: 3.5/5 Review by Camden Ferrell  Despite being in his late 70’s, legendary writer and director Paul Schrader is still pumping out movies on a consistent basis. Oh, Canada is his most recent effort based on the novel Forgone by Russell Banks. It had its premiere at the Cannes Film Festival earlier this year. While it touches on poignant and fascinating themes, the movie’s undercooked narrative prevents this from making the most of its thought-provoking premise. Leo Fife is a legendary documentary filmmaker at the end of his life. As he grapples with his imminent demise, he agrees to have his final testament filmed by other documentary filmmakers. We see Leo’s life as a young adult as he recounts his story of draft-dodging during the Vietnam War and the life he previously had. Leo, despite being an unreliable narrator, attempts to break down his mythological life. I think this premise tackles legacy in a fascinating way, and it’s a lens that feels almost meta due to the unintentional role Schrader has carved for himself in American culture. Schrader clearly knows what he’s trying to say with this movie, but the script has a hard time translating this into a tight and cohesive story. The themes linger throughout every scene, but the narrative fails to enhance it. Beats feel out of place and disjointed, and this ultimately undermines the beautiful and enigmatic ideas that are present. Despite this, there are still a handful of brilliant narrative moments that show promise if only it was a characteristic that was present throughout the movie.  This movie is led by Richard Gere and Jacob Elordi who play Fife at different points in his life. Both men are subdued but occasionally captivating in their portrayal of such a complex character. They certainly don’t blow you away, but they do have some tender moments that are hard to deny. The ensemble is rounded out with actors like Uma Thurman and Michael Imperioli who are both serviceable if not memorable.
This movie ultimately tackles the line that blurs myth and truth and the ways in which idols are flawed. It tackles how a deeply complicated man can almost by accident become an artistic legend despite his numerous flaws. It explores the legacy of such an artist, especially in the face of a terminal illness. It houses tender truths that could have been explored in a movie twice as long, and while it gets points for its profound themes, its narrative shortcomings prevent this from becoming great. Oh, Canada is a promising entry in Schrader’s 21st century repertoire. It suffers from a messy narrative but excels thanks to its fantastic ideas and profound beliefs about art, legacy, and the inherent flaws of being human. It may not go down as his most memorable late period film, but it’s one that will be remembered for its undeniable potential. Oh, Canada is in theaters December 6. Rating: 3.5/5 Review by Adam Donato  There are not a lot of studios that regularly pump out Christmas movies like Netflix. That Christmas is an animated film that was supposed to be a Warner Bros film, but got bought by Netflix. It’s based on a series of children’s books from Richard Curtis. The studio responsible for the film is Locksmith Animation, who was responsible for Ron’s Gone Wrong. The cast sports notable British actors like Bill Nighy, Jodie Whittaker, and Fiona Shaw, as well as the Scottish Brian Cox voicing Santa Clause. Does this Christmas adaptation have enough heart to be included in the family's Christmas movie rotation? That Christmas has nothing but heart. The story follows the impact of a major snowstorm on a community of families in a small town in England. There’s three central narratives that intertwine with one another. Who but the writer of Love Actually to pen this one. A shy new kid struggling with his parents divorce, twins who can’t be more opposite, and a group of children fending for themselves as their parents face the weather to get back home. These stories are all blended together nicely and come together in the end in a satisfying way. The themes of the movie deal with some pretty serious subjects and there’s some mild language, but this story works for all members of the family.  All the characters have so much personality and are each memorable in their own way. The child characters sound and act like actual children, without being annoying. The character designs are nothing to write home about. The animation looks like any old computer generated animated movie these days. The lack of visual style to the film is covered by the personality, humor and heart of the characters. The dialogue is very cleverly written and the delivery from the reputable cast is on point.
One cliche of the medium is present in this film. About halfway through there’s a montage set to an original song from Ed Sheeran. The song is alright, but the film could’ve done without it. That being said, the runtime is already at a low 95 minutes. The rest of the film features a collection of references to radio hits. This coupled with some more modern references date the film. Nothing outwardly cringe worthy, but certainly noticeable. Unfortunately for That Christmas, it will probably be forgotten in the depth of Netflix’s catalog. 2019’s Klaus, which is a superior film, was so well regarded it received an Oscar nomination, but has seldom been talked about in the last half decade. The family that stumbles upon That Christmas when it’s auto played after The Christmas Chronicles will be rewarded for their faith. That Christmas is an absolute delight and better than most of the theatrically wide released animated films this year. It’s a family film that takes its audience seriously and would be enjoyed by all this holiday season. That Christmas is out on Netflix on 12/4. Rating: 4/5 review by Jonathan Berk  In 2018, fans of metal music and outrageous comedies were treated to a charming cinematic merge with directors Juuso Laatio and Jukka Vidgren's Heavy Trip. After six years, the guys are back with the aptly titled sequel, Heavier Trip. The first film was full of charm and some wild comedic moments that made it extremely memorable. While the second film tries to give audiences more of the same, it doesn’t quite live up to its predecessor. After the events of the first film, the members of Impaled Rektum — Turo (Johannes Holopainen) on vocals, Xyrtax (Max Ovaska) on bass, Oula (Chike Ohanwe) on drums, and Lotvonen (Samuli Jaskio) on guitar — are still serving time in Norway’s nicest prison. The guys are initially content with finishing their sentence until Lotvonen’s parents' reindeer farm is about to be foreclosed upon. If they can land a big gig and get paid some big bucks, they could potentially save the farm — and Lotvonen’s father’s health. After busting out of prison, they set their sights on getting added to the Wacken festival in Northern Germany. It’s not uncommon for sequels to attempt to give us more of the same. Heavier Trip commits the sequel sin of bringing the guys back to what is essentially the same place they were at the beginning of the first film. There is mention of their fame and the demand for their music after the exploits of the first movie — but the plot quickly undercuts this, still leaving them as a group of nobodies. A large part of the film essentially debates whether they should “sell out” or not, and every moment connected to that seems to ignore the fact that they played a major show at the end of the first film. The conflict in this sequel feels contrived, and while the idea of a road trip is embedded in the name, this particular trip just feels like more of the same. If it managed to be as endearing and as funny as the first film, maybe this could be overlooked…but something is missing here that keeps those feelings just out of arm’s reach.  That’s not to say there aren’t elements that work. Xyrtax is still such a fun character. Aside from being the one truly dedicated to the music — at least from his perspective — his interactions with others are often the best moments. The real-life band Babymetal shows up as a recurring joke, with Xyrtax at the center, and it’s an excellent addendum to his character and the clear highlight of the film.
The band as a whole is what makes Heavier Trip worth watching. While it doesn’t quite hit the highs of the first film, the band’s charm remains intact, making it easy to root for these metal misfits the more you’re with them, despite the predictable plot. Turo’s drive to be an epic metal singer is unmistakable, and you genuinely want him to succeed. Lotvonen and Oula have their quirks and are also very likable. The amiability of the band, despite the extreme nature of their music and songs, makes this an easy watch. As every bump along the journey happens, you hope the guys can figure it out. Unfortunately, many of those bumps feel silly, redundant, or too predictable to make the entire journey memorable. There are a few cool set pieces that make the film pop a little more — yet, for a film about a band, it doesn’t feel like there’s enough music. Even when we do get scenes of the band playing, they’re often cut a little too short, only giving us a taste of their talent. The camerawork, costumes, and production all make those scenes visually pop, which only makes it sadder when we realize how brief they’ll be. Heavier Trip feels like it lands squarely in the sophomore slump often associated with a band’s second album. It’s not that the movie isn’t good, but it’s clearly not as good as the first. That comparison makes this one simply feel lesser. Imagine waiting for a band to finally come back to play the encore, only for them to replay some of the songs they played earlier in the night — it’s hard not to be disappointed. Heavier Trip is in theaters and available on VOD on November 29. Rating: 3/5 Review by Jonathan Berk  The concept of “paint-by-numbers” is often associated with biopics. If you’ve seen one, you can often see the pattern in which filmmakers shape the story. That’s why when a filmmaker with a distinct style and approach takes on a film in this genre, they can break away from the status quo. Director Pablo Larraín has done just that with Jackie, Spencer, and now with his newest film, Maria. Maria Callas was once the world’s most renowned opera singer. But in 1977, she is living a life of seclusion in Paris with her butler, maid, and two poodles. Her health is in decline, but a request for her to return to opera for a tour raises an important question: Will La Callas sing again? And if so, for whom? One way Larraín approaches these three biopics that stands out is by choosing to focus on a very narrow portion of their life. He utilizes some flashbacks to explore outside the limited window in which the primary story is told — but for the most part, he chooses an impactful moment of these figures' lives rather than employing the “cradle to grave” format that many other biopics strive for. The sad reality, however, is that most moments in our lives are mundane and uneventful. By choosing to focus on these pivotal moments, Larraín provides a strong sense of who the person was rather than simply documenting the events they experienced. His approach, similar to Danny Boyle’s Steve Jobs, creates a heightened version of reality — one that makes for an enthralling cinematic experience that centers on the heart of who these people were, or what they may have been like.  While the storytelling in Maria is captivating, Angelina Jolie’s performance as the diva is equally impressive. The film chooses to integrate an operatic style into many of the sequences, and Jolie is tasked with delivering these incredible vocal performances. She not only shines in these grand moments — but also in the quiet, introspective ones. Maria’s mental and physical decline is conveyed so poignantly through Jolie’s portrayal. Her performance is spellbinding, bringing both vulnerability and grandeur to the screen, capturing Maria’s struggle to find her voice once again.
Pierfrancesco Favino and Alba Rohrwacher play the two other primary characters in the film — the butler and maid, respectively. Their performances are also incredible, and add depth to the depiction of Maria’s seclusion. There is a recurring motif where Favino’s character has to move the piano for a variety of reasons, despite having an injured back. It’s an element that could feel inconsequential, but instead carries an emotional weight that matches that of a man struggling with the burden of moving such a heavy instrument. The chemistry between the three forms the emotional spine of the film, and it’s in far better shape than the butler’s. The visuals in the film are extraordinary, matching the emotional richness of the performances. Larraín likes to dabble with surrealism, which results in some stunning cinematography. Various stylistic flourishes make scenes feel like documentary footage, while others play with our perception of reality or draw attention to the form itself. A black-and-white close-up of Jolie as she sings is one of those early images that instantly burns into your mind. We are introduced to the character in such an intimate way, locking eyes with the diva who we will be spending the next two hours with. Larraín’s style and voice shine through, demanding our attention, and making this film unforgettable. There is so much to take away from this movie that it is easy to recommend. Maria is a captivating portrait of a legend in her twilight, demanding that we remember her voice, her talent, and her struggle as tragedy fell upon her. This film may not paint the entire picture of her life, but it gives us a sense of who she was. For that alone, Larraín’s film is worth watching. Maria will be in select theaters on November 27 and on Netflix on December 11. Rating: 4/5 Review by Adam Donato  Disney Animation Studios may not be dealing with a world war or near bankruptcy, but this era is quite a low point for the studio. Wish and Strange World were total flops. Even when Encanto succeeded critically, it underachieved at the box office by the studio’s standards. Another hindrance in their box office is the insistence of Disney+. Audiences have been conditioned to know that they can skip the theaters since the movie will drop on the streaming service for free in a couple months. It’s safe to say Disney’s Revivial Era is long over. Besides Encanto, Disney has been crapping out impactless originals and lazy sequels. Will Moana 2 perpetuate this downward spiral? Not unlike Frozen 2, Moana 2 has been plagued with bad press centered around the making of it. Moana 2 was supposed to be a Disney+ series. Last year, Nielsen crowned Moana as the most streamed movie of the year with over 11 billion viewing minutes. From a business perspective, it was a no brainer to stretch this sequel out into a full blown movie. After seeing the film, there are pacing signs that show this was repurposed content. The animation feels up to par and the main voice cast is back, but Lin Manuel Miranda is noticeably missing. Do these disadvantages ruin the film? Moana 2 is fine. Every single aspect about this sequel is inferior to the original. There is not a single song here that is better than any song from the first movie. The jokes are lazy retreads of the exact same jokes from the first movie. The narrative is reminiscent of the story of the first movie. It’s really depressing for a movie about venturing outside of the norm to discover the new to have a sequel lacking in ambition. The only thing really new about this story is the sequel bait, which is hard to get excited about when the story of this movie feels like it’s lacking purpose. Families won’t go into this sequel with as much cynicism as cinephiles, but even then it will be surprising to see any fans of the first movie preferring the sequel.  Criticisms aside, Moana 2 is a very digestible movie. The animation is still pretty and the world of this movie is such a vibrant place to revisit. It would’ve been nice for Moana 2 to take notes from another Disney sequel, The Rescuers Down Under, which sports a similar plot to the first, but feels unique as the location of the film couldn’t be more different from the first. Luckily for Moana 2, the location reflects a beautiful vacation type spot. Watching Moana swing around her boat is almost like watching Spiderman swing around New York City. She’s such a proactive character that’s full of personality so hanging out with her again is a delight. Seeing her grow as a leader and build more relationships with her people is rewarding. The songs aren’t anything to write home about, but there are songs and they are generally fun. There’s kind of a villain song that feels like a villain song, but isn’t really a villain song. Nothing bad with the music, just entirely unspectacular. The new characters are not very memorable, but cool enough and not annoying. Moana has a little sister with big front teeth who is very adorable. Moana 2 is one of the cutest movies of the year and families will eat it up.
Rewatching the first Moana after seeing the sequel is a depressing act as the level of passion and artistry has taken a huge hit. It’s not an instant classic, but it’s a fun and light movie that will entertain the masses. It will contend for the highest grossing animated movie of all time, but if Frozen 2 didn’t warrant a Best Animated Feature nomination, then this shouldn’t get one either. Listen to what the studio was saying in the first place: this “movie” belongs on a streaming service for kids to play on repeat. Watch it in theaters for a mildly fun, if not forgettable time. Even in a dismal year for animation, Moana 2 is more of the same for Disney Animation Studios: passionless and cynical content. Moana 2 is in theaters on November 27. Rating: 3/5 Review by Borja Izuzquiz  Renate Reinsve in Halfdan Ullmann Tøndel’s ARMAND. Courtesy of Pål Ulvik Rokseth. An IFC Films Release. “I love you” Elisabeth (Renate Reinsve) exclaims as she races down a countryside road. Having not received an answer, she inquires whether that sentiment is reciprocated. Armand introduced itself to Cannes audiences with that short yet compelling scene that foreshadows the tendency of influencing and manipulating perceptions from that moment onwards via shocking and muddled reveals.
Elisabeth’s query remains unanswered as she arrives draped with exquisite elegance to her son’s school. She is there to discuss an incident that occurred between her son Armand and fellow classmate Jon, neither of which make an appearance. First time director Halfdan Ullmann Tøndel manages to create an elaborate space surrounding an otherwise simple affair. The incident in question is kept secret at first, but the school’s insistence on the details not being leaked alludes to a potentially sinister occurrence. Furthermore, Tøndel envisions Elisabeth as otherworldly, with her radiance existing in stark contrast to the surroundings she’s arrived at. The setting is basic enough, yet after the categorical introduction, Tøndel leisurely reveals details that increasingly challenge perceptions. Elisabeth, along with Jon’s parents Sarah and Anders meet with their children’s teacher Sunna. The conversation is cordial enough partly due to the fact she and Jon’s parents are related. However, Elisabeth finds it difficult to make sense of the serious accusations, leading her to ferociously defend her son. The school where the film takes place offers its own dosages of mystery and tension. Unpredictable oddities made possible by the excellent cinematography of Pål Ulvik Rokseth, are liable to take place in dark hallways as fire alarms incessantly go off, adding to the increased tautness. Classroom walls hold lies and dark secrets people tell themselves to justify their purpose and prejudices, as the past and present lure their heads to defend their side of the story. Films related to family drama run through Tøndel’s family history. His grandparents, Ingrid Bergman and Liv Ullman were two of the greatest filmmakers to ever tackle these subjects. Bergman and Ullman directed and starred in Autumn Sonata, a 1978 film dealing with family dynamics and the effect of parental absenteeism on children. Tøndel retraces those themes here, but layers with a unique style and thematic vision that helps him stand apart from his famous grandparents. In fact, Tøndel gleefully navigates the film towards increasingly odd and surreal depths. Anchoring the hellish landscape is Renate Reinsve. Already having proven herself an excellent actress in The Worst Person in the World, Reinsve elevates her abilities even further here. Her performance of Elisabeth spiraling into a state of anguish and despair is extraordinary. Reinsve’s pinnacle moment occurs during a seven-minute scene where she completely takes over with an absurdity that defies convention. Tøndel’s direction slings Elisabeth towards unforeseen situations from that point, and Reinsve continually more than meets the challenge. Armand is as ambitious a debut as can be. Not every swing connects for Tøndel, yet he remains committed to push boundaries. As the answer to Elisabeth’s initial question remains unanswered, so too does Tøndel refrain from revealing the reasons for his unconventional decisions or for his characters motivations. Whether that weirdness is ultimately earned is up for debate, but the unique vision is appreciated. Armand is in theaters on November 29. Rating 3.5/5 |