Review by Chadd Clubine

The Bride! is the very definition of style over substance. It opens with an intriguing and boldly realized first act, evolves into something still compelling in its second, and then ultimately collapses under its own weight in the third. Warner Bros. has recently been slotting several of its more auteur-driven projects into the early part of the year, with only Sinners emerging as a clear standout. It’s admirable that the studio is willing to champion ambitious, director-driven films on such a large scale. However, when those projects carry hefty budgets and fail to deliver, the result can undermine the very box office confidence the studio is trying to build.

There’s no denying that Jessie Buckley and Christian Bale are phenomenal in their roles. Buckley has always operated at an exceptional level, but since Hamnet, it feels as though she’s been consciously building a lasting legacy. She performs with a rare abandon, disappearing so completely into her character that it feels as if no one else exists in the room. Bale, meanwhile, delivers one of the strongest performances in recent memory—measured, intense, and deeply layered. Together, these two richly drawn characters fire on all cylinders, their chemistry elevating every scene they share.

​From the moment the film begins, writer-director Maggie Gyllenhaal makes it clear she’s aiming to carve out a distinct identity for herself. The introduction is audacious and intoxicating—a reminder of why we fall in love with movies in the first place. With its striking cinematography, meticulously crafted production design, and an arresting, atmospheric score, the film radiates creativity. The opening act is so visually and sonically assured that it’s impossible not to be swept up in just how accomplished it feels.

Then the second act takes hold. There are still compelling ideas at play between the Bride and Frankenstein, and their dynamic continues to pulse with thematic weight. But once the narrative shifts toward the detectives, the film begins to lose its focus. Peter Sarsgaard and Penélope Cruz play the pair tasked with hunting the monsters down, yet their characters never feel fully realized or dramatically necessary. There’s little depth or urgency to their presence; in fact, you could remove them entirely and very little would change. Instead, they seem to materialize exactly when the plot requires them to, exposing a string of conveniences that gradually chip away at the film’s credibility.

By the time the third act arrives, you may find yourself checking the clock. The narrative unravels into a bloated, unfocused finale that strains whatever goodwill the earlier acts managed to build. If not for the strength of the central performances, this could have easily ranked among the year’s most disappointing releases. Instead, Peter Sarsgaard and Penélope Cruz are left delivering some truly clunky dialogue with admirable conviction, doing their best with material that never supports them. The film lurches through multiple false endings, with antagonists appearing and disappearing exactly when the plot demands it. By the finale, the accumulation of contrivances and baffling creative choices makes it feel as though the momentum—and perhaps even the filmmakers themselves—simply ran out of steam.

In the end, the film struggles to leave behind any lasting statement. The relationship between the Bride and Frankenstein, which should be its emotional core, feels underdeveloped and thematically thin. The story introduces a wealth of provocative ideas—identity, creation, companionship, persecution—yet repeatedly skims past them in favor of returning to a routine detective subplot. It’s clear the film desperately wants to inject a cat-and-mouse dynamic into the narrative, but it never generates the tension or urgency that structure demands. Despite its striking visual style, evocative score, and several commanding performances from its leads, the film loses its dramatic momentum by the midpoint and never fully regains it.

The Bride! is in theaters March 6th!

Review by Chadd Clubine

Review by Chadd Clubine

In the Blink of an Eye will likely slip quietly under the radar. It’s difficult to imagine the film even attaining cult status, as it proves to be as bland as it is ambitious. Sharp-eyed viewers may recognize director Andrew Stanton from his celebrated work at Pixar, including WALL-E, Finding Nemo, Finding Dory, and the upcoming Toy Story 5. On paper, this project appears to be an intriguing departure from his usual territory, and the ambition behind it is evident. Unfortunately, by the time the film’s central idea fully comes into focus near the end, it’s essentially over. Rather than landing with impact, the late reveal leaves viewers questioning what the film was building toward all along.

Set across three distinct timelines, the film weaves together three separate yet thematically connected stories. The first centers on a family of prehistoric humans struggling to survive in a harsh, primal world. The second follows the characters played by Rashida Jones and Daveed Diggs as they meet and fall in love in the present day. The third storyline tracks Kate McKinnon as a lone traveler journeying through the vastness of space. Ambitious narrative structures like this do not always cohere, yet the film ultimately succeeds in leaving audiences with resonant reflections on the meaning of life and human connection. It feels especially fitting for a filmmaker like Stanton to tackle material of this scope. The movie has been cited as drawing inspiration from 2001: A Space Odyssey, Magnolia, and Interstellar, while its cross-cutting between timelines also evokes the structure of Cloud Atlas. Each of those films has, in its own way, achieved classic status. However, given this film’s short runtime and comparatively modest impact, it is unlikely to reach the same heights as those landmark works.

The film finds its strongest moments within the storyline shared by Rashida Jones and Daveed Diggs, as well as in the eventual reveal that ties everything together. Jones and Diggs are inherently likable performers, and their natural chemistry provides the movie with much-needed warmth and momentum, keeping it engaging even when the broader narrative begins to drift. By contrast, the prehistoric storyline struggles to leave a lasting impression outside of its role in the conclusion—perhaps a result of its limited emotional grounding and absence of recognizable star power. Meanwhile, the space-set arc centered on Kate McKinnon offers a glimpse of a more restrained, dramatic side of her abilities. Still, it never fully lands, at times feeling slightly miscast or underdeveloped. As the film continually cuts between timelines, it becomes increasingly difficult to discern its ultimate direction. When the final revelation arrives, it is undeniably inventive and intriguing. However, the impact is softened by a rushed execution, causing what should be a powerful culmination to feel somewhat diminished.

Principal photography began in March 2023 and wrapped just two months later in May. With Thomas Newman composing the score, and a seasoned creative team both in front of and behind the camera, the project appeared poised for success from the outset. Given that Andrew Stanton is also set to direct Toy Story 5, it is particularly interesting to see how this film has taken shape—especially since it, too, falls under the Walt Disney Company banner. Stanton’s continued collaboration with Disney suggests a strong working relationship, one that has endured even after the commercial disappointment of John Carter. Three years after filming concluded, the movie finally saw the light of day. Given its muted buzz and uncertain commercial prospects, it likely would have struggled both critically and financially in a theatrical run. Opting for a streaming release ultimately feels like the most strategic decision—an effort to preserve and perhaps rediscover the potential the film once promised.

The film might have been better served as an episode of Black Mirror, where its high-concept ideas and technological themes could have been explored with greater focus and precision. In its latter half, the story leans heavily into questions about technology and the direction of humanity, suggesting it has something urgent to say about where we are headed. Yet it never fully commits to a clear perspective. It remains uncertain whether the film is arguing that technological advancement is pushing us backward or that human connection remains our only true evolutionary force. Just as it seems poised to offer a definitive statement, it instead pivots to a heavy-handed cosmic image meant to encapsulate the meaning of existence. Rather than delivering clarity, the moment feels abrupt and unearned—less like a profound conclusion and more like a vague gesture into the void.

Despite its shortcomings, the film is undeniably well-crafted on a visual level. The cinematography strives for a sweeping, cinematic scope, lending the story a sense of grandeur that may ultimately work in its favor as a streaming release. Even so, the three-year gap between production and release speaks volumes about the studio’s confidence in the final product. While the storyline anchored by Rashida Jones and Daveed Diggs provides the film with its emotional backbone, their performances alone are not enough to carry it across the finish line. Not even the unexpected conclusion fully compensates for the narrative’s uneven execution. At this point, it may be fair to suggest that Andrew Stanton is at his strongest working in animation rather than live-action—a medium where his storytelling instincts have historically flourished.

In the Blink of an Eye streams on Hulu February 27th!

Review by Chadd Clubine

The concept of The Bluff shows early promise. Priyanka Chopra Jonas once again brings her charm and commitment to the action genre, elevating even the film’s weaker moments. Opposite her, Karl Urban steps into a villainous role that hints at something more dynamic than the material ultimately allows. Both actors already have established relationships with Prime Video — Chopra Jonas through Citadel and Heads of State, and Urban through The Boys — which lends an air of familiarity to the collaboration. Yet that comfort may be part of the problem. Rather than feeling like a bold new venture, The Bluff comes across as a side project, a breezy detour from their more demanding work.

While the film flashes occasional potential in its action sequences, it ultimately falters. What begins as a promising swashbuckler gradually reveals itself to be a generic outing, thinly disguised beneath a surprisingly dull pirate backdrop.

At a lean 100 minutes, the film never quite gives its story room to breathe. The potential is evident, which makes it difficult not to measure it against the original Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy — films that fully embraced their swashbuckling identity with scale, spectacle, and personality.
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Here, however, the narrative hesitates. It never fully commits to being a true pirate adventure, instead settling for a straightforward rescue-and-revenge plot that merely happens to unfold against a pirate backdrop. The result feels less like a bold entry and more like a generic action story dressed in period costume. The film offers little that feels fresh within the action landscape, and the writing plays things as safely as possible, seemingly focused more on deliverability than distinction. It’s difficult to imagine this project earning serious consideration for a theatrical run. Still, despite its repetitive storytelling and underwhelming visuals, the film will likely find a measure of success on streaming, buoyed by its accessibility and the draw of its stars.

The opening sequence hints at the right tone for a pirate adventure, briefly suggesting a film willing to embrace the scale and tone its setting demands. Even when the first half is weighed down by underwhelming visuals, those shortcomings become easier to overlook whenever the movie leans into its action set pieces. The action is easily the film’s strongest asset, with sharp pacing and clean transitions that keep the momentum intact. For a time, it feels as though the cast and crew are doing their best to elevate material that doesn’t always support them. There’s a sense of effort in the early stretch — an attempt to compensate for thin writing and uneven effects through energy and commitment.

However, once the film crosses into its second half, that momentum fades. The urgency that once made the action engaging begins to dissipate, replaced by rushed storytelling and increasingly unconvincing visuals. What starts with flashes of promise gradually unravels into something far less inspired. By 2026 standards, this is the kind of mid-tier spectacle that feels more suited for streaming than the big screen.

Priyanka Chopra Jonas makes the most of what she’s given, though the material never allows her to stretch beyond familiar territory. Her charm remains intact — reliable, polished, and undeniably watchable — but it feels carefully calibrated rather than daring. In that sense, her presence here recalls the steady, brand-safe appeal Dwayne Johnson leaned into for years. That consistency may not surprise audiences, but it’s likely the very quality that keeps her fan base returning. Karl Urban, meanwhile, appears to be enjoying himself more freely, though not necessarily in pursuit of a standout performance. His villain carries flashes of personality, yet the execution feels uneven — particularly with an accent that shifts often enough to suggest a lack of clear direction. Temuera Morrison does what he can with limited material, bringing a degree of gravitas to his role. Unfortunately, much of the supporting cast never fully commits to their characters, resulting in performances that feel more functional than invested.
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With cliché writing, underwhelming visuals, and a noticeable lack of strong characterization or directorial vision, The Bluff delivers little that hasn’t been executed on a far grander scale elsewhere. Its action sequences show flashes of engagement, hinting at a more compelling film buried beneath the surface. Fans of Priyanka Chopra Jonas will likely find enough to appreciate her steady screen presence alone. However, viewers seeking a more imaginative, fully realized pirate adventure would be better served by revisiting the original Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy — a franchise that embraced its swashbuckling identity with far more confidence, spectacle, and originality.

The Bluff streams on Prime Video February 25th!

Review by Chadd Clubine

There’s plenty to unpack about the upcoming film How to Make a Killing. Among this weekend’s new releases, it stands out as the clear highlight. Carrying an R rating, the film is poised to draw audiences largely on the strength of its all-star cast, its intriguingly offbeat premise, and the backing of A24 as distributor. The concept may sound bizarre—even morbid—on paper, but under the direction of John Patton Ford, the material fully embraces its absurdity, balancing sharp intention with darkly comedic humor.

Looking at Glen Powell’s filmography, his strongest performance to date remains in Hit Man, directed by Richard Linklater—though this latest turn is a close second. Here, Powell taps into flashes of Patrick Bateman-esque slickness, blended with the calculated precision of Agent 47 from the Hitman video game series. While the film doesn’t fully flesh out his character’s motivations, it pointedly underscores how intimately tied he is to the family—and the weight of the choices he ultimately makes. The first act may not lean as boldly into its themes as it could, but by the final stretch, the film leaves little ambiguity about its intent.

At a brisk 105 minutes, the film moves with remarkable speed, propelled by an infectious, tightly controlled energy. That momentum feels like a natural evolution of John Patton Ford’s work on Emily the Criminal, while also signaling the emergence of a more defined signature style. There’s substantial thematic and narrative ground to cover, yet Ford never lets the story stall. By infusing the film with sharp humor and layered themes, he sustains its pace without sacrificing depth, ensuring the momentum carries through to the end.
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Each character feels vividly drawn and alive. Glen Powell commands the bulk of the screen time, but the supporting cast leaves a lasting impression despite more limited appearances. Margaret Qualley is especially striking in a deliberately distasteful role that serves as a warped mirror to Powell’s character. Jessica Henwick reveals a softer, more grounded dimension of Powell’s character—the version of him that could choose contentment. Bill Camp brings a quiet compassion to his role, suggesting that not everyone in the family shares the same immoral compass. Meanwhile, Zach Woods and Topher Grace inject sharp humor into the film, even if both could have benefited from additional screen time. Finally, Ed Harris makes a formidable impression in a brief appearance, his icy presence lingering long after he exits the frame.

The third act is packed with genuine surprises. Even with the film’s structural framework established early on, it continues to twist and recalibrate expectations in satisfying ways. While flashbacks can often stall momentum in film or television, here they’re used strategically—deepening the intrigue and prompting us to question how the protagonist arrived at this precarious point. There’s an argument to be made that the film could have explored Ed Harris’s character more fully, particularly the reasons behind his estrangement from Powell’s character’s mother. That added context might have sharpened the emotional stakes. Still, the conclusion effectively circles back to the film’s central themes, underscoring the extreme lengths people will go to for money. It lands with clarity and bite, leaving a lasting impression of the story’s moral undercurrent.

Drawing from its literary source material and additional influences, John Patton Ford crafts an adaptation that still feels distinctly original. Much of that uniqueness comes from the film’s striking visual language and evocative score by Emile Mosseri. Cinematographer Todd Banhazl washes the frame in a hazy green palette that subtly echoes the color of money, reinforcing the film’s thematic undercurrent without feeling heavy-handed. Meanwhile, Mosseri’s score injects a sense of character and texture that gives the film its own sonic identity. Together, these elements elevate the material, creating an atmosphere that demands attention and sustains it from beginning to end.
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How to Make a Killing stands as another strong entry in this year’s cinematic slate, signaling the promise still ahead. Glen Powell delivers a layered performance that balances sympathy, sharp humor, and moments of outright revulsion. The supporting cast makes the most of their material, each performance adding texture and dimension to the story. Behind the camera, John Patton Ford maintains a brisk momentum, using dark humor and timely themes to keep the narrative both entertaining and pointed. As it stands, the film ranks among the year’s most pleasant surprises so far.

How to Make a Killing is in theaters February 20th!