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Review by Sean Boelman
Photograph Courtesy of HBO
Jeremy O. Harris’s Slave Play was one of the most buzzed-about works in the theatre community upon its off-Broadway debut in 2018, so it’s shocking that it’s taken more than five years for a behind-the-scenes documentary to be made about it. That documentary -- Slave Play. Not a Movie. A Play. — reminds audiences of the play’s explosive moment, but will work best for audiences already in the loop about this incredible work.
The documentary, directed by Harris himself, follows him as he workshops and produces Slave Play, the record-breaking, Tony Award-nominated play that served as his big break. Those unfamiliar with Slave Play are in for a surprise with the incendiary, experimental work of metafiction. Long stretches of the documentary are made up of rehearsals of Slave Play, with Harris occasionally interjecting to guide his actors. It’s clear that this aims to allow the work to speak for itself, which is refreshing in many ways. The audience shouldn’t need critics or Harris’s peers to ramble on about how impressive and vital his work is — the accomplishments of the play and the quality of its words should be more than enough to convince us of its merit. Because of this approach, it’s also incredibly easy to admire Jeremy O. Harris for his tremendous artistry — both as a playwright and a director. The recordings of rehearsals make it clear that Harris sees theatre as a collaborative process. The freedom he gives to his actors allows the work to feel all the more powerful and authentic. 
Photograph Courtesy of HBO
However, the documentary largely lacks the perspective of these actors. Although we do get introduced to the performers in brief sections where they talk about their origins and backgrounds, these only serve to humanize them. They don’t quite go so far as to provide a deeper connection to their characters on stage.
There is also something to be said about watching so many portions of a work out of context. Those familiar with the source material will be able to fill in some of the narrative and thematic gaps. Since Harris is so anti-exposition, it is up to the audience to make sense of a lot of what they see. Granted, Slave Play isn’t exactly subtle in its messaging, but to trust audiences with this — especially today, when media literacy isn’t at its best — is more than a little bit bold. This approach also doesn’t make for the most cinematic presentation. Harris tries to use some gimmicks, like split screen, to make the documentary a bit more engaging, but it’s not too visually ambitious. How invested the viewer stays in this experience will hinge entirely on their interest in the source material. Ultimately, this is perhaps the biggest problem with Slave Play. Not a Movie. A Play. It’s a documentary for people who already know and admire Slave Play. You don’t necessarily have to have seen Jeremy O. Harris’s opus to appreciate this documentary, but you need a pretty solid familiarity with it. But for those who already admire it, this documentary will give you deeper insight into and appreciation for Harris’s process. Slave Play. Not a Movie. A Play. is screening at the 2024 Tribeca Festival, which runs June 5-16 in New York City. Rating: 3.5/5
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Review by Sean Boelman
Filmmaker Tommy Wirkola is no stranger to boundary-pushing films, with the Nazi zombie comedy Dead Snow putting him on the map. His latest effort, in collaboration with animation director Ramsus A. Silvertsen, is probably his edgiest yet. Feeling like the evil twin of Inside Out, Spermageddon is an edgy, often hilarious, and surprisingly heartfelt adult animated flick. Although it isn’t without flaws, this is an enjoyable and provocative movie (mainly in the right ways), which is more than can be said about many entries in the genre.
The film tells two stories: one of a duo of awkward teens who decide to have sex for the first time and the other of the sperm cells on the journey to (potentially) create life. It’s an animated blend of a sex comedy and an inner-body adventure (like a raunchier Fantastic Voyage), and the result is a lot better than many adult animated movies as of late. As far as characters go, Spermageddon is pretty rudimentary. On the human front, we have the nerdy virgin and his crush; on the cell side, we have the slacker and the overachiever. These are conventional dichotomies, but because the movie uses these coming-of-age beats in such a satirical way, it is easy to forgive it for its conventionality. Furthermore, with a runtime of around 80 minutes, the film moves along at a nice pace. The writers do a good job of balancing the two parallel storylines, and it never feels like we’re merely waiting to get back to the other. Viewers will be pretty invested in all of the characters’ arcs, even if their eventual end is incredibly obvious. 
It will come as no surprise that Spermageddon constantly seeks to push the envelope. While many of the edgy moments are funny — some even hilarious — there are some points at which it feels like it goes too far. It can be hard to get past some of the graphic sex scenes. Even if they are animated and by no means intended to titillate, it can still be difficult to get past the fact that we are watching two teenagers have sex. These are far from the funniest moments in the movie, so it could have spared to be a bit less gratuitous in this department.
Still, for all of the moments in the film that feel raunchy for the sake of it, some parts feel incredibly sincere. The movie even gets highly political in its final act in a way that will undoubtedly alienate some conservative audience members — but in true adult animated fashion, it’s a satirical message that really makes the well-meaning, progressive political point hit much harder. The animation style is done in a way that is clearly meant to mimic the aesthetics of mainstream animation — namely Pixar — and it mostly works well. Admittedly, the human sequences are lacking, both in terms of character design and environments, but there is so much fun detail in the microscopic world that it’s easy to forgive the shortcomings of the other storyline. Beyond that, the amount of emotion that the animators achieve out of mere gametes is impressive. Spermageddon isn’t perfect, but it is pretty consistently funny and mostly impresses with its sense of heart. It does go too far at times, but there’s so much authenticity and genuinely excellent satirical humor that it compensates for some of the moments that fall flat. Spermageddon screened at the 2024 Annecy Animation Film Festival. Rating: 4/5
Review by Sean Boelman
Morrisa Maltz’s first narrative feature, The Unknown Country, starring the then up-and-coming Lily Gladstone, debuted at Tribeca in 2022, and she is returning to the festival with her follow-up, Jazzy. Although Jazzy certainly has some merit in its visuals, performances, and authenticity, it fails to engage audience members with meaningful, interesting conflict.
The film follows a young Lakota girl growing up in South Dakota as she transitions from childhood to young adulthood, having to deal with challenges like her best friend moving away. Capturing the complex emotions of growing up with mundane interactions and low-key conflicts through a child’s eyes is not an unusual concept, and Jazzy offers a refreshing perspective to this approach. However, where Maltz, along with her co-writers Andrew Hajek, Lainey Bearkiller Shangreaux, and Vanara Taing (who all serve in various below-the-line positions too), fall short is in giving the movie meaning. Of course, there’s something to be said about simply providing a platform for underrepresented stories like this. Still, it all feels so inconsequential that it can be difficult to get invested in the story. The biggest issue with the film is that it all feels a bit too trite to make much of an impact. Although the purpose is clearly to capture a very specific experience and perspective, it’s still a story that feels broad in its emotional beats. It is this balance between specific and universal that the movie is unable to accomplish. 
Although the protagonist is compelling, the film lacks interesting supporting characters. The protagonist’s best friend, for example, isn’t written with much depth — acting as little more than a device for the protagonist’s development. If the movie had spent more time developing this friendship from both sides, it would have helped both characters (along with the story as a whole) be more engaging.
Jasmine Shangreaux (the eponymous “Jazzy”) gives a very solid turn in the lead role. Shangreaux has been gifted with the opportunity not only to play a role that is essentially a version of herself but also one that was written by her own mother. As a result, she feels incredibly naturalistic and authentic. In the supporting cast, the most recognizable name is Lily Gladstone (Killers of the Flower Moon), who is fine in what is essentially a cameo. (She also executive produced Jazzy and worked with Maltz on her last movie, The Unknown Country, so her participation feels more like a show of support than anything.) It’s also quite easy to admire what Jazzy is doing aesthetically. Maltz’s choice to shoot the film — a coming-of-age story that would typically be seen as intimate — in a widescreen format is quite intriguing, drawing the viewer into the grandeur of childlike idealism. Cinematographer Andrew Hajek’s work is fantastic, being consistently gorgeous to look at. Yet, for all of the visual splendor of the movie and even its welcome perspective on these common tropes, it feels like Jazzy is missing something. Although the film will certainly find its supporters, especially among those who can more directly identify with the specific experience it sets out to showcase, many viewers will find themselves bored. Jazzy is screening at the 2024 Tribeca Festival, which runs June 5-16 in New York City. Rating: 2.5/5 [Tribeca 2024] BEACON -- Dull Psychological Thriller Destined To Be Lost in the Sea of Content6/8/2024
Review by Sean Boelman
Directed by Roxy Shih and written by Julio Rojas, the psychological thriller Beacon feels like the type of movie that feels destined to end up in the annals of a streaming library, discovered by a bored subscriber looking for something late at night while scrolling social media on their phones. It’s a high-concept, technically competent, but altogether unmoving film that fails to give the audience any reason to get invested.
Beacon follows a young sailor on an ambitious solo trip who wrecks her ship and gets rescued by a lighthouse keeper, only for the duo to descend into madness. It’s a classic set-up for a psychological thriller — hell, look no further than Robert Eggers’s The Lighthouse — but its overwhelming simplicity keeps Beacon from ever instilling the same sense of dread or paranoia as the films it borrows from. The most frustrating thing about the film, though, is how little the characters’ arcs make sense. Are we supposed to believe that these two people who have chosen solitary occupations — a solo sailor and a lighthouse keeper — are driven mad by isolation? Their personalities, or at least what little personality they are given, don’t fit. It is under these conditions that Beacon begins to completely unravel itself. There’s conflict, but little of it is of any consequence. For a psychological thriller that deals so heavily in paranoia and mistrust, the characters are swift to forgive one another when they do terrible things. Like so many other aspects of the film, it just doesn’t make any sense. 
Atmospherically, director Roxy Shih does her best with the material she is given. The cinematography and production design do a good job of creating a sense of claustrophobia, even if the visuals are derivative of virtually every other psychological thriller you’ve seen. Shih is able to build the sense of tension that the narrative needs for propulsion, but the script lets her down.
However, at a certain point, one begins to wonder what writer Julio Rojas even had to say with this script. Is it a Sartre-esque satire on the ways in which society drives itself apart? Or are we giving Rojas too much credit by assuming he has anything to say at all? Maybe this is just intended to be a lean exercise in atmosphere — and even in that regard, it’s a failure. And with a film like this, where the cast is entirely limited to two people, it is paramount that those performances be strong. Demián Bichir and Julia Goldani Telles do not deliver in the lead roles. Bichir is at least somewhat entertaining to watch, but his performance feels far too big — almost as if it is ripped out of a different film with more exciting conflict. With all this in mind, it becomes clear that Beacon is no shining light in the sea of festival thrillers. Psychological thrillers need to create a feeling of dread to be successful, or at the very least menace, but Julio Rojas’s script is so devoid of originality that it cannot achieve either. At least it’s merciful enough to be a mere 90 minutes, meaning it isn’t asking viewers to waste much of their time. Beacon is screening at the 2024 Tribeca Festival, which runs June 5-16 in New York City. Rating: 2/5
Review by Sean Boelman
After debuting at Berlinale earlier this year to mixed reviews, Julia von Heinz’s Treasure is making a stop at Tribeca before its US theatrical release. Although the film is not without its flaws, and one will be left wishing that it would have engaged with its themes in more depth, the film works as a crowd-pleaser, largely thanks to two strong performances in its leads.
Treasure follows an American journalist who takes a trip with her father, a Polish Holocaust survivor, to his homeland in the hopes of regaining touch with her roots, only to make some interesting discoveries while there. The film is based on an autobiographical novel, and while it does feel like some creative license was taken in this cinematic adaptation, it offers a unique perspective on these common themes. However, where Treasure comes up short is exploring the nuances of its character arcs. For much of the runtime, the new Polish settlers are villainized, and the Holocaust survivor and his progeny are looked at with basic pity. Although the final act acknowledges that the situation is not as black-and-white as it seems, the shift the characters experience to this understanding is incredibly sudden, leaving the audience wanting a more gradual and nuanced development. Tonally, it’s hard to tell where Treasure wants to fall. Some moments lean into broad comedy, emphasizing comedic hijinks, while other parts feel like they want to be an earnest and meaningful commentary on these issues. The result is generally likable but does suffer from a few moments of significant tonal whiplash. The film does ask some interesting questions about the ethics of post-Holocaust reparations. At what point is disrupting the lives of the people who have lived in these homes for years now no longer justifiable? Of course, the film does not probe too deeply into this issue, as this would open a whole can of worms that it doesn’t want to explore, given the current state of international politics. The film’s biggest strength is in the performances by Stephen Fry and Lena Dunham. Fry plays a role not too out of his comfort zone — a lovable, goofy guy with some serious boundary and filter issues. Dunham is much less comedic, giving a performance that doesn’t quite feel as vulnerable as what her role seems to have called for, but that is still emotionally effective nonetheless. Visually, Treasure is solid, if not particularly special for the genre. The costuming does a solid job of establishing the temporal setting of the ‘90s, and the film uses some of the actual locations in Poland to create a strong effect. Otherwise, it’s a mostly straightforward drama in terms of execution. In many ways, it’s unfortunate that Treasure is coming out in the same year as Jesse Eisenberg’s A Real Pain, which explores similar themes with much more depth and acuity. However, there’s still something undeniably charming about Julia von Heinz’s exploration of the return of the Jewish people after WWII if you’re willing to look at it as a broad crowd-pleaser. Treasure is screening at the 2024 Tribeca Festival, which runs June 5-16 in New York City. Rating: 4/5
Review by Sean Boelman
It’s always nice to see an indie filmmaker get to work with an ensemble of A-list stars and tell a story with more mainstream breakout potential. This is the case with Malaysian-American filmmaker Yen Tan, whose latest film, All That We Love, features an ensemble led by recognizable faces like Margaret Cho and Jesse Tyler Ferguson, among others. The result is a generally pleasant watch, even if it doesn't “wow” in any way.
The movie follows a woman who, after the unexpected loss of her beloved dog, faces a flurry of emotions and possibly even a rekindling of passion as she sets out to start anew. From the film's opening moments, it’s clear what kind of experience you are in for. Beginning a movie with a scene of a woman crying and holding her dead dog makes it clear to viewers that they are in for a sentimental tear-jerker. For those charmed by the lowest common denominator of canine dramas, this is satisfying — perhaps even a little better than average. It has a few laughs and more than a few heartfelt moments that will leave a bittersweet smile on your face. However, it’s clear that Clay Liford and Yen Tan’s tribute to the people — and animals — we love has greater aspirations that are never delivered on. The maudlin tone of All That We Love isn’t helped much by Tan’s overwrought style. The cinematography is oversaturated, and the score is overbearing. It’s not “show, don’t tell” filmmaking or even “tell, don’t show” — it’s “show AND tell” filmmaking, doing everything in its power to get the audience to feel sad. It’s a shame that Tan felt the need to resort to these near-manipulative filmmaking tactics, as the story could have spoken for itself. Animal-centric stories are generally some of the easiest to win audiences over, as most viewers will immediately empathize with a character’s love for their furry friend. When you add another universal theme like grief into the mix, it becomes even more poignant. However, All That We Love has a nasty tendency to overcomplicate itself. Instead of sticking with this simple story of a woman grieving the loss of her parent, we get an interconnected web of stories, each of the protagonist’s acquaintances having their own arc. While the loss of a pet is certainly devastating, it feels almost reductive to compare this to other experiences like grieving a partner or losing one’s life to addiction. That said, Tan assembled a strong ensemble, elevating the material above its melodramatic shortcomings. Margaret Cho plays her character in a way that feels constantly grounded, even when the character’s actions feel borne out of the need for cinematic conflict rather than genuine character growth. Jesse Tyler Ferguson is another standout, giving a performance that, while a tad on the stereotypical side at times, provides a solid foil to Cho. It’s hard to hate a movie like All That We Love, with a heart in the right place and a story that just desperately wants to charm. However, there’s really not much to the movie beyond the surface. At under 90 minutes, it gets a pass, but don’t expect to walk away feeling much of a connection to the material beyond the bare minimum. All That We Love is screening at the 2024 Tribeca Festival, which runs June 5-16 in New York City. Rating: 3/5
Review by Sean Boelman
Warner Bros. MonsterVerse has shown that there is a way to take Japanese IPs and make them Hollywood-friendly on a massive scale. Netflix hopes to replicate that success with Ultraman: Rising, a kiddie animated superhero flick featuring one of the most popular characters in Japan — and the world. While the film is passable, it leaves much to be desired for young and old viewers alike.
The movie follows Ultraman, whose double life as a superhero and a star baseball player is threatened when he is faced with unexpected responsibility when he adopts a baby kaiju. In a way, the film feels almost like a mixture of Three Men and a Baby and an Ultraman movie — a combination that is every bit as weird as it sounds. The biggest issue with Ultraman: Rising is that it is simply too long for a children’s animated film. The runtime is over two hours; when you subtract credits, it’s still more than an hour and 45 minutes. There’s not enough action or humor to sustain the narrative momentum, with the movie settling for many of the same telegraphed emotional beats we’ve seen before in the animated genre. Yet, despite this somewhat bloated runtime, Ultraman: Rising still struggles to juggle its many themes. It’s hard to tell what the core arc is. Is it Ultraman’s foray into fatherhood? His struggle to cope with his father’s legacy? His desire to balance his passion for baseball with his duties as a superhero? At a certain point, the film not only becomes overstuffed, but you have to wonder who this is really for. At what age will children relate to the struggles of parenthood? 
Ultraman: Rising also suffers from having a weird place in the canon. It certainly assumes that audiences know who Ultraman is, but younger viewers aren’t likely to know the backstory. To them, he’ll be just another superhero (and merchandising opportunity). The title also implies that this will be an origin story, but we’re thrown into a world where the protagonist has already taken up the mantle. Unless you already have a connection to Ultraman, it may be hard to find a reason to care about this story beyond its cuteness.
The animation has pretty much the quality you’d expect of a straight-to-streaming animated movie aimed predominantly at younger audiences. The character design is far cutesier than you would expect to see from a film that’s literally about kaiju, and the action is very colorful and not too intense. While it would seem like this style would be a natural fit for a franchise with its roots in the low-budget tokusatsu films and shows of yesteryear, it’s all just a little *too* bubbly to work. The voice cast is solid, but nothing particularly memorable. Christopher Sean is likable and charming in the lead role, but what’s more impressive about it is the level of growth he is able to show through his performance. He starts with a cocky arrogance before shifting into something much more nuanced and approachable. Ultraman: Rising is a likable animated adventure, but it’s hard to recommend to kids because of its length and focus on themes they won’t relate to, and adults might find themselves bored. However, there’s plenty of potential here, and hopefully, this will serve as a launching pad for more family-friendly outings for Japan’s most notable superhero. Ultraman: Rising hits Netflix on June 14. Rating: 3/5
Review by Sean Boelman
With a star-studded ensemble of subjects and a meaningful message, Group Therapy should be an absolute knockout. While Neil Berkeley’s latest documentary does a solid job with these aspects, it embraces its fluffiness a bit too much to be the socially impactful film it clearly hopes to be.
The documentary is a presentation of a live event where a group of comedians got together to have an intimate discussion about mental health and their experiences with it for a small audience (and the cameras). It definitely feels a little more in-depth than a comedy special but has too many elements of that style to fully work as a “serious” documentary, causing the movie to pose more questions than it provides answers. The comedians participating in this experiment are Mike Birbiglia, Nicole Byer, Gary Gulman, London Hughes, Tig Notaro, and Atsuko Okatsuka, and the moderator is Neil Patrick Harris — all celebrities with sizable followings. Each person gets their own “section” where they go in-depth about their own struggles for a few minutes, but the sections where the film thrives are when conversing and supporting one another like they would in an actual group therapy session. Admittedly, many of the subjects in Group Therapy discuss topics that they already well covered in their stand-up. This is particularly true with comedians like Birbiglia and Notaro, whose material is primarily derived from their personal experiences. They are such open books on stage that the “insightful” stories they share aren’t all that revelatory. 
The conversation around mental health is incredibly important, and the organizers of this event and movie have found an effective way to make it accessible. There’s something compelling about the idea of celebrities showing their humanity, and Group Therapy certainly cashes in on that. However, as comedians, these people know how to tread sensitive subjects in a way that feels equally poignant and humorous.
However, the subjects make the mistake of presenting the audience with a frustratingly broad solution. With the exception of Gulman, who acknowledges that his experiences are very different from other people he has heard from, it feels like these people offer a very narrow-minded vision of the “fix” for mental health. While it’s understandable that they want to call attention to the fact that struggles with mental health are universal, they don’t approach the nuance and diversity of these experiences with satisfying depth. Berkeley also struggles to make the conceit feel more cinematic than it is. After all, watching a bunch of people sit around in a circle talking isn’t all that exciting — even if those people are some of the funniest people alive. To add some excitement, Berkeley works in archive footage from the subjects’ performances and “backstage” conversations between smaller groups. However, the cameras being on for the latter moments makes them feel somewhat inauthentic. Still, despite these shortcomings, Group Therapy is a thoroughly charming documentary with a good message. While it would have been preferable to see the film’s discussion of these essential topics be less dogmatic, it calls attention to a topic that isn’t discussed nearly often enough in a very palatable way, and it deserves praise for that. Group Therapy is screening at the 2024 Tribeca Festival, which runs June 5-16 in New York City. Rating: 3/5 [Tribeca 2024] WINTER SPRING SUMMER OR FALL -- Jenna Ortega Teen Romance Is Charming but Generic6/6/2024
Review by Sean Boelman
Jenna Ortega is one of a new batch of movie stars who has reached superstardom so quickly that she still had indies in production that were yet to be released when she blew up. The teen romance Winter Spring Summer or Fall is one such film, shot before her star-making turn in Wednesday was unleashed onto the world. It’s a charming, quaint flick that doesn’t reinvent the wheel but has more than enough charm to win over viewers.
The movie follows two teenagers — one an overachiever and the other a charming but aimless loner — as they fall in love over the course of four seasons. These snapshots of their relationship follow the beats you’d expect from a story of young love, leaning heavily into the melodrama and cheese, but it’s ineffably enjoyable nevertheless. In addition to hitting mostly familiar beats, Winter Spring Summer or Fall addresses the most common themes of the YA romance/coming-of-age genre. Topics like finding yourself and discovering love are timeless, and yet, this film somehow manages to feel overwhelmingly dated. Even more frustrating is that there is so much potential to explore more here, yet Dan Schoeffer’s script is content with the minimum. Themes like the protagonist’s Latino heritage and her parents’ expectations are only used to introduce secondary conflict into the story. However, where the movie falls short in offering something fresh to say, it makes up for it in esoteric and strangely relatable humor. Although the film is rarely laugh-out-loud funny, viewers may find themselves chucking throughout, reminiscing about the times when they would do stupid things for love, like making playlists (of Talking Heads music) or changing life plans to be with someone. Most people will understandably be drawn to this movie because of its star, Jenna Ortega. And while Ortega has shown her talent in the past, her performance in Winter Spring Summer or Fall does feel a tad phoned in. Although it’s not a bad performance by any means, her turn lacks vulnerability, making her feel like any other lead you have ever seen in a teen drama. Her chemistry with co-star Percy Hynes White is quite strong, though — one of the film’s saving graces. The other saving grace of the movie is that it’s easy to fall in love with these characters’ romance. Although both characters are written to be very archetypal, they’re given personalities that feel real and lived-in. Although some of the decisions in the later acts feel rushed — an unfortunate byproduct of the episodic narrative structure — the meet cute in the first segment does a good enough job of investing us into the relationship that it’s easy to overlook these shortcomings. There was clearly a great deal of attention put into everything from the production design to the soundtrack choices to make them feel like they accentuate the world of these characters, and Paulsen deserves a lot of credit for making that work. It has a lot of personality — something that can’t be said about more than a few entries into this genre. Winter Spring Summer or Fall isn’t likely to become a classic in the canon of teen cinema, but it’s charming enough that it will find its admirers. Admittedly, the best parts of the film are those that will get lost on the younger audience that is likely to be most drawn to this, but it’s still a very charming movie nevertheless. Winter Spring Summer or Fall is screening at the 2024 Tribeca Festival, which runs June 5-16 in New York City. Rating: 3.5/5
Review by Sean Boelman
The long-delayed third film in the Bad Boys series, Bad Boys for Life, came right before the COVID-19 pandemic and was one of the last “big blockbusters” for over a year. Its sequel, Bad Boys: Ride or Die, is coming out at a time when the summer box office is struggling — largely from the lingering impact of last year’s SAG and WGA strikes. While Will Smith is hardly the savior that anyone wants right now, this enjoyable action-comedy is enough of a crowd-pleaser that it has the juice to revitalize multiplexes — if only for a weekend.
In the movie, Miami PD officers Burnett and Lowrey set out to clear the name of their late captain when he is posthumously framed for corruption. It’s an incredibly generic cartel-driven police storyline, and you will be able to see every predictable beat coming from the moment the new characters are introduced. That being said, this is a Bad Boys movie, after all. No one’s coming to this expecting any more than a dumb action comedy. The biggest issue with the latest entry in the now almost 30-year-old franchise is that the humor style hasn’t aged particularly well. The film is at its funniest when it allows Smith and Lawrence to lean into the slapstick (emphasis on “slap”) side of the comedy. When it’s trying to be witty or insightful with one-liners, it’s often reductive at best and sometimes even downright offensive at worst, including one truly baffling and overtly laughable reference to 9/11. However, where Bad Boys: Ride or Die falls short in its humor, it makes up for with some of the most kinetic action in a mainstream action flick in years. It’s clear that Adil and Bilall have a deep admiration for the work of Michael Bay, infusing their movies in his franchise — this one, in particular — with a level of gonzo, over-the-top energy that matches Bay’s. But they also play around with the camera in ways that creates a ton of excitement. 
Perhaps out of concern of lingering controversy surrounding Smith, much of the focus of the narrative is on Lawrence. The result is that we get to see Lawrence shine in a way he hasn’t in more than a decade. Although it can be hard to take some of the more sincere aspects of his story seriously, Lawrence has an impeccable sense of comedic timing and excellent chemistry with Smith.
Smith’s portions of the film feel much less developed. The movie’s conflict is largely driven by Smith’s character — with most of the narrative propulsion being from conflicts in that character’s life. However, there are several gaps in his arc, and it’s hard to tell whether this is the fault of sloppy writing or gaps created with reshoots. The rest of the cast is a mixed bag. The performances by some of the faces from earlier in the franchise, like Dennis Greene, allow them to stand out in unexpected ways. Then, there are the returners from Bad Boys for Life, like Vanessa Hudgens, Alexander Ludwig, and Paola Nuñez, who all feel wasted. Jacob Scipio is the only one who feels well-used. Of the new additions, including Eric Dane, Ioan Gruffud, Tiffany Haddish, and Rhea Seehorn, no one really makes much of an impact. Bad Boys: Ride or Die is probably the weakest entry in the franchise by virtue of its generic storyline and humor that is even more hit-or-miss than is usual for the series. However, some incredibly inspired action direction from Adil and Bilall makes this more of a fun time at the movies than many of the other movies you’ll see at the multiplex in this particularly dry summer. Bad Boys: Ride or Die hits theaters on June 7. Rating: 3/5 |