2018

Hereditary
The Favourite
First Reformed
Leave No Trace
BlacKkKlansman
Roma
Mission: Impossible – Fallout
Shoplifters
Eighth Grade
The Night Comes for Us
If Beale Street Could Talk
Burning
Stan & Ollie
Can You Ever Forgive Me?
Cold War
A Quiet Place
A Star Is Born
Annihilation
The Ballad of Buster Scruggs
Boy Erased
Widows
Mandy
At Eternity’s Gate
First Man
Dragged Across Concrete
Halloween
A Simple Favor
Upgrade
The Hate U Give
Vice
Creed II
The Rider
Ant-Man and the Wasp
Den Skyldige
mid90s
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse
Overlord
Wildlife
Destroyer
Outlaw King
Black ’47
Love, Simon
Solo
Bumblebee
Revenge
Tomb Raider
Juliet, Naked
Mom and Dad
The Miseducation of Cameron Post
Mortal Engines
What Keeps You Alive
Aniara
Avengers: Infinity War
Ralph Breaks the Internet
Sicario: Day of the Soldado
Suspiria
The Mule
Searching
Thank You for Your Service
Alpha
The House with a Clock on Its Walls
Kursk
Raazi
Beautiful Boy
Black Panther
The Front Runner
The House That Jack Built
Shadow
Duck Butter
On the Basis of Sex
Aquaman
Hotel Artemis
Ophelia
Ocean’s 8
Aterrados
Crazy Rich Asians
Super Troopers 2
The Wind
Rampage
Stop-Loss
The Strangers: Prey at Night
The Girl in the Spider’s Web
Mary Queen of Scots
Red Sparrow
A Vigilante
The Wife
Adrift
I Think We’re Alone Now
The Meg
Girl
The Predator
Venom
The Oath
A Wrinkle in Time
The Commuter
Hunter Killer
Hot Summer Nights
Skyscraper
Final Score
Jurassic Park: Fallen Kingdom
15:17 to Paris
Death Wish
Superfly
Book Club
Vox Lux
The Grinch
The Professor
Insidious: The Last Key
Bohemian Rhapsody
Life of the Party
Robin Hood
Time Freak
The First Purge
The Getaway
Green Book
Holmes & Watson
Ready Player One
Under the Silver Lake
The Nun
Peppermint
Assassin’s Creed
Overboard
The Super
Replicas
Unfriended: Dark Web
The Possession of Hannah Grace
Terrifier
The Happytime Murders
Supergrid
The Con Is On
Truth or Dare
Fifty Shades Freed
Lez Bomb
Hurricane Heist
Welcome to Marwen
Future World
Slender Man

Note: These lists are always slowly growing, so this represents all the films so far from 2018 that I have reviewed on the site, in order of best to worst based solely on score (ties are ordered alphabetically).

Hereditary (2018)

Directed by Ari Aster. Starring Toni Collette, Alex Wolff, Gabriel Byrne, Ann Dowd, Milly Shapiro, Mallory Bechtel. [R]

Supremely intense, emotionally raw story of trauma and suffering expressed through a dysfunctional nuclear unit that’s been ravaged by the demonic rot of its family tree; as much a harrowing family drama as a stomach-churning horror film, but it’s not a pastiche—these facets intertwine so tightly that everything is elevated to the territory of unholy yet operatic tragedy. Eerie, troubling incidents and visions wreak havoc upon Collette and her clan while they grieve for her departed mother, a woman who had been concealing dark secrets that threaten to come back and destroy them (or even worse, if that can be imagined). Writer/director Aster makes a remarkably assured feature debut, building dread and doling out the shocks with the ease and skill of someone’s who’s been at it for decades, and his script lays out small, understated breadcrumb hints at what’s to come that can easily go overlooked, but patient and attentive viewers will be rewarded during its go-for-broke finale (others, however, may be turned off by its unnerving audacity). The cast is virtually flawless, with special notice to Collette’s mesmerizing tour de force as a mother, wife, and daughter tearing apart under immense psychological distress. Colin Stetson’s ominous score has an unnerving effect and, like the film itself, possesses queasy, lingering power.

93/100

The Favourite (2018)

Directed by Yorgos Lanthimos. Starring Emma Stone, Olivia Colman, Rachel Weisz, Nicholas Hoult, James Smith, Joe Alwyn, Jenny Rainsford, Mark Gatiss. [R]

Debilitated Queen Anne (Colman) rules England in the early 1700s, though her close friend, confidante, and sometimes-lover, the ambitious Lady Sarah (Weisz), handles most of the governing duties herself. But then a new, young servant, Abigail (Stone), arrives, who reveals herself to be an even more cunning schemer for the affections and favor of the queen. Deliciously clever and witty costume drama, with moments of absurd and explosive humor that are all the more outrageous set against the ornately stuffy trappings, but it’s also a fascinating study of character and rivalry among the three sharply-defined women. The most accessible (and also the least daring) of director Lanthimos’ work to date—most likely, the result of him directing a screenplay he did not write himself (credited to Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara); what the film lacks in his typically outlandish conceptualization, it more than makes up for in waggishness and visual splendor. Plus, there’s Stone, Colman and Weisz giving three of the most memorable performances of the year; all were nominated for Academy Awards, with Colman winning. Bunny lovers beware: Elmer F. has got nothing on Emma S.

92/100

First Reformed (2018)

Directed by Paul Schrader. Starring Ethan Hawke, Cedric Antonio Kyles, Amanda Seyfried, Victoria Hill, Phillip Ettinger, Michael Gaston, Bill Hoag. [R]

Tricky, contradictory, yet wholly engrossing film set on the eve of the 250th anniversary of a small New York town’s historic First Reformed Church. Pastor Toller (Hawke) is going through a number of personal Bergman-esque crises related to isolation, powerlessness, illness, environmental despair, spiritual uncertainty, and more. His church is struggling with low attendance, and he turns to help from a nearby megachurch, but their chief financier (Gaston) is an industrialist contributing to the erosion of planet Earth; meanwhile, he’s dealing with the suicide of a man he was trying to counsel, developing confused feelings for the man’s pregnant wife, and learning he has stomach cancer. A social issue parable, psychological drama, and existential thriller rolled into one, it feels unremittingly pessimistic, yet it curves around the themes of ideological extremism with equal parts vengeance and hope. Writer/director Paul Schrader seeks to confront and unsettle, and he does so with some audacious choices in the back end that shouldn’t work, but do, notably a “cosmic” out-of-body-experience during a peculiar form of physical intimacy, and the entire ending sequence, which doesn’t quite sit right whether interpreted literally, metaphorically, or as pure dream/fantasy. This unease, however, is one of the film’s strengths, not weaknesses, as it’s one of those increasingly rare examples of a film narrative frequently going to unexpected places and making you feel fidgety in the best way imaginable. The static camera shots and symmetrical framing and inserts and unconventional 1.33:1 aspect ratio create a rigid, cramped canvas, so it’s even easier to see through the paint to the impotence and anxiety beneath its central figure. Hawke’s internal strife, world-weariness, and shaky croak make for perhaps his most stunning film performance to date, and there are deft turns in the supporting cast, too, such as delicate Amanda Seyfried as the widow and Cedric “the Entertainer” Kyles as a megachurch pastor with buddy-buddy charisma and compromised motives. Finally earned veteran screenwriter/filmmaker Schrader the first Oscar nomination of his career (for Best Original Screenplay). Debuted at the Venice International Film Festival in 2017.

92/100

Leave No Trace (2018)

Directed by Debra Granik. Starring Thomasin McKenzie, Ben Foster, Jeff Kober, Dale Dickey, Isaiah Stone, Dana Millican, Michael Prosser. [PG]

Foster and Mckenzie are never for a moment unconvincing as a father-daughter pair who live “off the grid” in the woods of Oregon—Thoreau by way of Into the Wild. They’ve carved out an unconventional lifestyle that works for them, but it’s uncertain if it can last. Foster’s war vet suffering from PTSD doesn’t want to exist any other way, but if his little girl gets a taste for the comforts of community, will she be able to go back? A quietly profound film, gentle and thoughtful, advancing at a deliberate yet absorbing pace, its overall effect gathering steam in an unforced way that never overemphasizes its themes or evolving lead relationship. The typically intense Foster is damaged in a subdued way, approaching his troubled condition on cautiously studied terms; McKenzie’s restraint and soulful naturalism is a breath of fresh air in the realm of youthful angst and growing pains. Earned a lot of comparisons to director Gradnik’s earlier film, Winter’s Bone, but they’re night-and-day, rewarding in very different ways. Shot on location in Clackamas and Multnomah Counties; Michael McDonough’s photography exquisitely captures the chilly dampness of the Pacific Northwest wilderness and rural backroads.

89/100

BlacKkKlansman (2018)

Directed by Spike Lee. Starring John David Washington, Adam Driver, Jasper Pääkkönen, Topher Grace, Laura Harrier, Ryan Eggold, Ken Garito, Robert John Burke, Ashlie Atkinson, Paul Walter Hauser, Michael Buscemi, Fred Weller, Corey Hawkins, Nicholas Turturro, Harry Belafonte. [R]

Hard-hitting yet hugely-entertaining story “based on some fo’ real, fo’ real shit”—dramatic license is implied solely by the involvement of fearless provocateur Spike Lee, but the heavy-handedness and self-indulgence that color his less successful “joints” are far less prevalent and more potently weaponized. It’s one of those stories so impossible to believe, it has to be (partly) true: in the early-70s, Ron Stallworth (Washington) becomes the first ever African-American detective in Colorado Springs, proceeds to infiltrate a local chapter of the Ku Klux Klan through phone conversations with the chapter president (Eggold) and Grand Wizard David Duke (Grace), and recruits a white, Jewish colleague (Driver) to “play the part” in person. Sharp, funny, disturbing, relevant, and with one narrative exception, paced like a freight train; that exception would be the subplot where Stallworth gets close to a student union activist (Harrier), which may be smartly-written and acted with shaded nuances, but it adds up to negative space in the grand scheme—either there should have been more scenes between them so we’d care more about the issues at stake and their difficult companionship, or most of the material should have been dropped to focus on the central Klan subterfuge narrative. By appearance alone, there’s no doubt who Washington’s father is, but the ex-football player gives the sort of breakthrough performance that mocks any “nepotism baby” accusations, and Driver is aces leading a fine supporting cast who convincingly play into well-founded stereotypes and real-life counterparts. Adapted from Stallworth’s memoir, the screenplay won an Academy Award, the first of Lee’s career (shared with David Rabinowitz, Charlie Wachtel, and Kevin Willmott). Alec Baldwin cameos during the prologue; Donald Trump appears in archival footage during the epilogue.

87/100

Roma (2018)

Directed by Alfonso Cuarón. Starring Yalitza Aparicio, Marina de Tavira, Jorge Antonio Guerrero, Nancy García, Fernando Grediaga, Marco Grag, Diego Cortina Demesa, Daniela Demesa, Carlos Peralta, Verónica García. [R]

Brotman’s Law states that “if nothing has happened by the end of the first reel, nothing is going to happen.” Roma goes through several reels without anything particularly interesting happening. But patient viewers who stick with the “beautiful bore” that is the first hour are rewarded with the intimate and heartbreaking chronicle of Cleo (Aparicio), a live-in maid working for a family in Mexico City. She demonstrates resilience through grace, no matter the dire circumstance (including being impregnated by a boyfriend who threatens her harm if she insists that the child is his), her emotional turbulence expressed assuredly through the suffocating restrictions of class, heritage, and morality. Writer/director Cuarón pulled the story and feelings from his own memories growing up in Mexico City, and regardless of how certain plot turns may appear at a glance to be contrived, like the identity of a gunman that Cleo encounters during the Corpus Christi Massacre, it almost never feels anything less than utterly authentic and deeply personal. Cuarón picked up two Oscar statuettes from AMPAS (for his direction and his lensing), and unofficially picked up a third when the film also won for Best Foreign Language Film, which, weirdly, is kept by the director but is “given” to the country as a whole.

86/100

Mission: Impossible – Fallout (2018)

Directed by Christopher McQuarrie. Starring Tom Cruise, Simon Pegg, Ving Rhames, Henry Cavill, Rebecca Ferguson, Sean Harris, Vanessa Kirby, Angela Bassett, Alec Baldwin, Michelle Monaghan, Wes Bentley, Frederick Schmidt, Kristoffer Joner, Liang Yang. [PG-13]

Ethan Hunt may have cut off the head of the Syndicate by capturing Solomon Lane in Rogue Nation, but the remnants have regrouped into a new terrorist organization dubbed the Apostles, and they’re looking to get their hands on plutonium cores—nuclear destruction…don’t mess with a classic, I guess. The CIA assigns a special agent (Cavill) to join Hunt’s IMF team in their mission to recover the plutonium, and things get more complicated when Ilsa Faust emerges with (murderous) eyes on the prize—Lane himself, who’s the price for the cores per an inscrutable broker known as the White Widow (Kirby). Sixth M:I entry shows no signs of slowing down or running out of inspiration; the plot elements are mostly of the recycled and/or boilerplate tradition of high-style high adventure flicks, but rarely is any minute of this blockbuster not an arresting blast. Returning favorites are all in fine form, including Ferguson’s Faust, just as elusive and lethal as before, but showing an even softer spot for Hunt…even though he runs her over with a car at one point, such are the breaks in international spycraft. The action scenes are sensational, from an eye-popping HALO jump onto the roof of a French nightclub and a slam-bang restroom brawl inside to a frenetic helicopter chase over the Western Himalayas where Hunt finally bests his foe, ahem, hook, line and sinker (couldn’t help myself). Granted, there’s a shortage of humanity, and a character’s coincidental appearance in the final act is awfully far-fetched even by nefarious design, but it’s such a sleek and straightforward machine, and so cleanly executed by Christopher McQuarrie, Cruise and company, the set pieces are the movie as a whole…and there are so many of them…and they are so, so good. Cavill and Kirby both make vivid impressions as newcomers to the series, and Angela Bassett is appropriately no-nonsense and hard to pin down as the calculating CIA director. Followed by Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part 1. Wolf Blitzer appears as “himself”.

85/100

Shoplifters (2018)

Directed by Hirokazu Kore-eda. Starring Sakura Ando, Lily Franky, Kairi Jyo, Mayu Matsuoka, Miyu Sasaki, Kirn Kiki, Sôsuke Ikematsu. [R]

An unconventional—to put it mildly—and impoverished Tokyo family gets by on menial labor jobs, a deceased relative’s pension, and shoplifting, and as gradually revealed by the unpredictably unfolding story, “shoplifting” takes on multiple meanings for this clan. Writer/director Hirokazu Kore-eda recognizes the power of empathy, and wields it with borderline satirical precision when demonstrating how survival among the down-and-out is dependent on compassion and loyalty. These are deeply amoral people, capable of emotionally destructive deeds when cornered, but while the camera observes the minutiae of their unordinary lives like a fly on the wall, the lens may as well be the POV of yet another family member “adopted” under dubious circumstances. It’s not always believable, and the finale comes close to cheating its earned emotional weight, but until a crucial point in the story, the societal antagonist to these bonded crooks and enablers is an implacable offscreen entity, making it easier to buy into the us-vs.-them stakes. Forcing us to question and confront our values is no easy task, and it’s rare to find a movie as heartstring-tugging as this one that also encourages complex intellectual debate in the aftermath—meditative manipulation, if you will. Palme d’Or winner at Cannes.

85/100

Eighth Grade (2018)

Directed by Bo Burnham. Starring Elsie Fisher, Josh Hamilton, Emily Robinson, Catherine Oliviere, Daniel Zolghadri, Jake Ryan, Luke Prael, Fred Hechinger, Imani Lewis. [R]

Intriguing look into the social anxieties of adolescence as experienced by shy eighth-grader Kayla (Fisher). For older viewers, she’s trapped in an alien world where interconnnective technology have robbed kids of innocence and privacy—information and communication come so fast and frequent, no one has a chance to find themselves on their own, ‘lest they be shunned forever by the in-crowd. Bound to be an uncomfortable watch for most viewers—no matter how generationally-specific most of these details are, juvenile embarrassments are universally felt—but the refreshing candor and resistance to formula character arcs make it almost impossible to turn away for more than a few seconds at a time. In between Kayla’s difficulties with classmates (including an apathetic queen bee-type and an oblivious boy crush) there’s also room for subtly effective scenes where Kayla’s single dad (Hamilton) struggles over how to reach out and connect with his daughter and when he needs to give her space. Another nice (if acidic) touch: despite being voted “Most Quiet” by her peers, Kayla records motivational vlog posts for YouTube where she talks about how to be outgoing and confident. Actor/comedian Bo Burnham’s screenwriting and filmmaking debut.

82/100

The Night Comes for Us (2018)

Directed by Timo Tjahjanto. Joe Taslim, Iko Uwais, Sunny Pang, Abimana Aryasatya, Julie Estelle, Salvita Decorte, Zack Lee, Asha Kenyeri Bermudez, Dian Sastrowardoyo, Hannah al Rashid, Dimas Anggara. [TV-MA]

Practically on a whim, a Triad enforcer (Taslim) goes rogue and slaughters gangland soldiers to protect a young girl (Bermudez); meanwhile, a friend from the old gang (Uwais) is ordered to kill him, sending the pair on a corpse-strewn collision course. A rampaging, hyperkinetic, carnage-filled beast of an action film, as breathlessly creative in its sensory assault techniques as it is in its whirling, thrashing choreography, a ballet of blood-soaked brutality. A sensational showcase for its stylish performers—Taslim and Uwais, of course, who have an unforgettable knock-down-drag-out showdown at the end, but don’t sleep on what the ladies (Estelle, Sastrowardoyo, al Rashid) are capable of, as their three-way clash is potentially its equal. The plot is a simple mechanism (though still unclear at times), characters are presented in minimalist terms, and it’s a bit exhausting (if not desensitizing) at length—not to mention entirely unrealistic (Deadpool couldn’t recover from some of the non-fatal blows received by the main characters)—but there’s no denying the tremendous craftsmanship, skill, and visceral effect. Note: the score below is only—repeat, only—for those with a high tolerance, if not appreciation, for extreme violence in their action movies.

82/100

If Beale Street Could Talk (2018)

Directed by Barry Jenkins. Starring KiKi Layne, Stephan James, Regina King, Colman Domingo, Brian Tyree Henry, Teyonah Parris, Michael Beach, Aunjanue Ellis, Finn Wittrock, Ebony Obsidian, Dominique Thorne, Pedro Pascal, Dave Franco, Diego Luna, Ed Skrein. [R]

Leisurely-paced but immersive adaptation of James Baldwin’s book about an innocent black man charged with a heinous crime and the loving young woman carrying his child who wants him to be free. Director Jenkins’ followup to his Oscar-winning Moonlight features the same gorgeous photography and expressionistic pause-passages spent with scant dialogue that could clutter the breathtaking meditation. Less a flowing, cause-and-effect narrative than a series of non-linear vignettes, overly meandering at times, studded with flashes of Douglas Sirk-ian melodrama; there’s minimal plot but it’s heavy on emblematic theme, presented never so clearly or simply as in Baldwin’s line: “Every black person born in America was born on Beale Street.” Nicholas Britell’s score is gorgeously dissonant and haunting, but the application of music (his and others’) is often overbearing, smothering much of the sad romance insinuated by both image and sentiment; Jenkins treats most of their flashback moments as tone poems held within gazes, unbroken with each other’s and directly into the camera, suggesting a connection that goes beyond personality and attraction and deep into the soul, which makes for more memorable imagery than ruminative passion and kinship. Imperfect but heartfelt, and worth watching for anyone, even though it won’t be for all tastes.

81/100

Burning (2018)

Directed by Lee Chang-dong. Starring Yoo Ah-in, Steven Yeun, Jeon Jong-seo, Choi Seung-ho, Kim Soo-Kyung.

After aspiring writer Jong-su (Yoo) runs into a childhood classmate, Hae-mi (Jeon), he starts spending time with her, and even agrees to feed her cat while she’s away on a trip to Africa. She doesn’t return alone, however—she met and befriended another young Korean man, Ben (Yeun), and the twosome becomes a threesome, one which Jong-su doesn’t know what to make of, especially since not only is it peculiar that Ben is able to afford a wealthy playboy lifestyle without a clear source of income, but he also admits to having the bizarre hobby of burning down abandoned greenhouses (or is that code for something even worse?). A character study that becomes disturbed and disquieting so gradually, there’s no clear turning point to spot where it becomes a thriller, and a very ambiguous one at that—there are multiple interpretations to chew on after watching, the sort that made me wrack my brain wondering (e.g., is it a key detail that Hae-mi claims she had plastic surgery, which is why Jong-su didn’t recognize her?). The cumulative tension helps dissipate some of the frustration related to a less-focused and overlong final hour, but there’s something to be said for a finale of such startling violence that offers no answers or catharsis, only more doubt and discomfort. Self-effacing as the protagonist is intended to be, Yoo Ah-in gawps enough to seem slow-witted at times; Steven Yeun, however, is a marvelous mystery of cryptic smirks and elusive menace—is he sociopathic or just untrustworthy and elusive? A book of William Faulkner stories can be spotted at one point, and it was his story, “Barn Burning”, which inspired the same-named tale by Haruki Murakami the screenwriters adapted for the screen.

80/100

Stan & Ollie (2018)

Directed by Jon S. Baird. Starring John C. Reilly, Steve Coogan, Shirley Henderson, Nina Arianda, Rufus Jones, Danny Huston, John Henshaw, Joseph Balderrama, Suzy Kane. [PG]

The famed comedy act of Laurel & Hardy (Coogan & Reilly) sets off on a UK music hall tour during the 1950s, a potential motion picture comeback on the horizon. Less a biopic than a laidback buddy picture about past-their-prime entertainers (who happen to be real life figures), filled with sniping, aggravation and humor, but also affection and tenderness. Reilly and Coogan are both pitch-perfect in their roles; terrific makeup helps make the physical resemblances for both men uncanny, and their performances are warm and nuanced, with a real lived-in quality to them—there’s never a moment’s doubt that they really are the venerable duo. Henderson and Arianda are also memorable as their wives, sharing their own brand of amusing, resigned chemistry with each other. Baird’s scrupulous detailing is effective, but he treats everything with a light touch (too light to explore some of the darker elements of their private lives beyond the surface: divorces, alcoholism, and so on), and the actual plot is a bit too familiar and pedestrian; the script’s dialogue is much more cleverly written. A wistful and valedictory film, but also loaded with a lot of laughs, including some recreations of the team’s material (delivered with not quite the same level of grace and crack timing as the originators, but close enough for consistent amusement).

80/100

Can You Ever Forgive Me? (2018)

Directed by Marielle Heller. Starring Melissa McCarthy, Richard E. Grant, Dolly Wells, Jane Curtin, Stephen Spinella, Ben Falcone, Gregory Korostishevsky, Marc Evan Jackson, Anna Deavere Smith, Brandon Scott Jones. [R]

Based on her confessional memoirs, Lee Israel (McCarthy) is a struggling, misanthropic writer who adopts the scheme of forging letters from famous, deceased authors and selling them off to collectors and dealers; Grant is her impish, improvident friend (and eventual accomplice). Darkly comedic but nuanced, caustic yet creepingly sympathetic, director Heller finds the right barbed tone for the script (adapted by Nicole Holofcener and Jeff Whitty), and gets a wonderfully shaggy and bitter performance from McCarthy and an even better one from Grant as her hopeless but hilarious “drinking buddy.” It’s never clear exactly what propels Lee to continue taking risks even after recovering from her debts, and the story is padded with a couple of detours without much payoff (Wells does fine work as a quiet bookseller, but the threads of her sub-plot are tugged at during the denouement without resolution or catharsis). A tangled portrait, to be sure, and how one ultimately judges its subject will likely differ from person to person, but don’t expect it to be an easy and clear opinion, which is ultimately one of the film’s finest traits.

79/100

Cold War (2018)

Directed by Paweł Pawlikowski. Starring Tomasz Kot, Joanna Kulig, Agata Kulesza, Borys Szyc, Cédric Kahn, Jeanne Balibar. [R]

Set primarily in post-war Poland, this pic is roughly a decade-and-a-half of two aching souls (Kot & Kulig) at the mercy of a fractious political climate, showcasing tortured reunions of almost destructive infatuation that burn out quickly only to get ignited again at a later time when their paths next cross. The lurches through history are signed in black, which serve as voids in the story that keep the leads at arms’ length—the double meaning of the title was presumably intentional—but the idiosyncratic layers of their personalities and predicaments suggest that they’re not meant to be symbols that represent the troubled times (plus, the camera loves Kulig too much). Her fierce performance dominates the austere environments; the other unshakable highlight is Łukasz Żal’s ravishing photography, the meticulous symmetry of the compositions framing the film’s contentious motifs of exile and reconciliation. Though a bittersweet resolution to their unrest is all but guaranteed, the film doesn’t fully earn what should have been a powerful finale. Pawlikowski won the Best Director prize from Cannes.

79/100

A Quiet Place (2018)

Directed by John Krasinski. Starring Emily Blunt, John Krasinski, Millicent Simmonds, Noah Jupe, Cade Woodward. [PG-13]

Sightless alien creatures with hypersensitive auditory perception have seemingly decimated Earth’s population down to just a handful of scattered survivors, among them the Abbott family, who scavenge for supplies beyond the boundaries of their refuge, the ever-present threat reducing their lives to ones spent in near-silence. An uncommonly humane yet elemental thriller; tense, well-crafted and acted, and carrying its basic but effective sound design component about as far as it can possibly go—most fright flicks ratchet up the soundtrack to raise the gooseflesh, but here, silence is as nerve-wracking as any orchestral sting. Considerable suspension of disbelief is required to get all the way through, but even at his most flagrantly studious in shopworn manipulation tactics, director Krasinski delivers the goods more often than not. A pity that the creature design is so derivative, but at least the filmmakers know how to withhold them until the crucial moments most of the time. Krasinski also co-scripted alongside Scott Beck and Bryan Woods, who came up with the original story treatment.

79/100

A Star Is Born (2018)

Directed by Bradley Cooper. Starring Bradley Cooper, Lady Gaga, Sam Elliott, Anthony Ramos, Andrew Dice Clay, Rafi Gavron, Dave Chappelle. [R]

Fourth version of the tragic showbiz evergreen is set a second time within the music industry. Alcoholic country rocker Jackson Maine (Cooper) “discovers” a singing/songwriting talent named Ally (Gaga) when he meets her in a drag bar, and after he brings her on tour with him to sing some of her songs, she gets an offer for a recording contract. Strikes the usual story beats—they fall in love, his addiction spirals out of control, etc.—but they’re struck with assured restraint and vulnerability, earning the shattering emotions of the characters’ rocky but devoted relationship. There may be too little here to differentiate the story from its predecessors, and some decisions feel clumsily manufactured to get the leads to their inevitable destinies a little quicker (music producer Gavron as little more than a plot device, for example), but powerhouse performances breathe new life into the old formula. Gaga is very effective in her first starring film role, believably transforming from a hesitant and nervous creature to a bold performer through the sort of support that encourages inner strength; ditto for gravel-voiced Cooper, also making his debut as a director and co-writer, never for a moment seeming like an “actor playing rock bottom.” As for Elliott (as Jackson’s older brother and manager), he steals a couple of heavy scenes with a deep pain he’s rarely hinted at ever before. In a moment of meta-irony, notice how Ally’s performance on “Saturday Night Live,” which resembles the kind of stage spectacle that Gaga is best known for, is what results from the influence of the industry’s shallow cynics. Oscar winner for the song, “Shallow,” by Gaga, Mark Ronson, Anthony Rossomando, and Andrew Wyatt.

79/100

Annihilation (2018)

Directed by Alex Garland. Starring Natalie Portman, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Gina Rodriguez, Tessa Thompson, Tuva Novotny, Benedict Wong, Oscar Isaac, Sonoya Mizuno. [R]

Garland, the writer/director of Ex Machina, offers another oblique trip into the intersection of cerebral science fiction and tense humanist thriller. More literally—and “literally” is hard to trust here—it’s a trip into a mysterious zone dubbed “the Shimmer” that emerged from a crashed meteorite; within its expanding borders exists a dangerous jungleland teeming with dangerous animal and plant mutations where our concepts of time and physics no longer apply with consistency. Portman’s grieving biologist joins an all-female team headed by Leigh’s psychologist for a new expedition into the Shimmer after the last one ended in disaster, and there’s no preparing for what they find there. A heady challenge, fascinating and frustrating, never quite as bold or affecting as it wants to be, where the existential unknown wrestles with more conventional genre terrors…but it never goes all the way with its trippy imagery and ambiguous metaphors, nor does it fully satisfy on the elemental us-vs.-them pulp level. However, the hallucinatory visuals, ominous atmosphere, and central fear of not being able to trust someone/something is what you think are so well-executed, it’s still a near-must for those brave enough to be transported. Based on a Jeff VanderMeer story.

77/100

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (2018)

Directed by Joel & Ethan Coen. Starring Tim Blake Nelson, Bill Heck, Zoe Kazan, Tom Waits, Harry Melling, Grainger Hines, Liam Neeson, Chelcie Ross, Jonjo O’Neill, James Franco, Saul Rubinek, Tyne Daly, Jefferson Mays, Brendan Gleeson, Ralph Ineson, Stephen Root. [R]

A six-part anthology of Western shorts from the Coen brothers not only confirms the filmmakers’ treasured varied-but-specific sensibilities, but also proves just how malleable the genre/setting can be. Nelson’s quick-draw singing cowboy discovers the hitch in being considered the “top dog,” Waits’ patient gold prospector taps a rich vein, Neeson’s impresario deals with the growing disinterest in his limbless performer, Kazan must choose between the pistol and a worse fate at the hands of an Indian war party, etc. Sharp, detailed, bursting with mannered-yet-juicy vernacular, flippant one moment and haunting the next; an essential work only for the slavishly devoted, but just charming enough for the uninitiated to give it a shot, too. By it’s very nature, satisfaction can be erratic even if the craft is consistently fab, but it could’ve used a reconsideration in terms of sequencing—although the later episodes tend to be richer in character and emotion, they’re also generally longer, slower, and less conventionally entertaining. Presented as dramatizations of six stories in an old-timey tome, some of the vignettes are originals, while a couple are based off fiction from Jack London and Stewart Edward White.

77/100

Boy Erased (2018)

Directed by Joel Edgerton. Starring Lucas Hedges, Joel Edgerton, Russell Crowe, Nicole Kidman, Joe Alwyn, Flea, Xavier Dolan, Britton Sear, Madelyn Cline, Cherry Jones, Troye Sivan. [R]

Baptist preacher (Crowe) and his wife (Kidman) send their son (Hedges) to a gay conversion therapy center for “treatment,” where he and his fellow youths are subjected to physical abuse and psychological torture. Based on Garrard Conley’s memoir of the same name, the film refrains from presenting a grueling endurance test of cruelty, but focuses instead on the simmering turmoil in a confused, wounded young man who wants to “do right” by the moral standards he’d been force-fed all his life, but can’t ignore who he is and how he feels. Director Edgerton (who also wrote the screenplay, co-produced, and co-stars as the program’s chief therapist) achieves a sometimes uneasy balance between the sensitive and the unflinching; the timeline jumps are jarring (and confusing) at first, and characters and episodes are sometimes bracketed to the point of narrative/thematic isolation. His steady influence on the drama, however, is commendable—one rarely feels manipulated or coaxed towards a melodramatic response to the appalling but sometimes abstruse horrors—and the major performances are strong across the board (Crowe even finds a surprising amount of humanity in what could have easily been a hard-nosed dogmatist role).

76/100

Widows (2018)

Directed by Steve McQueen. Starring Viola Davis, Elizabeth Debicki, Michelle Rodriguez, Colin Farrell, Brian Tyree Henry, Cynthia Erivo, Daniel Kaluuya, Lukas Haas, Garret Dillahunt, Robert Duvall, Kevin J. O’Connor, Liam Neeson, Carrie Coon, Jacki Weaver, Matt Walsh, Jon Bernthal. [R]

Cash-strapped and threatened by unsavory and ruthless types, the widows (Davis, Delicki, Rodriguez) of dead professional thieves come together in desperation to steal millions from immoral politician Farrell. More weight and nuance than the typical heist movie, with a tangled web of unscrupulous characters and sub-plots (some better than others, and some left dangling and forgotten by the end) always circling the central storyline. Grim and nail-spiked, as expected from director McQueen, with equal parts gritty-realism and Hollywood-polish mixed together into a viscous tar that coats the entire film. Well-acted by an unusually deep cast (especially Davis and Debicki) with heavy dollops of social commentary and narrative switchbacks, but the heist itself is disappointingly routine and the gaping story holes (that only grow larger upon post-credits reflection) threaten to collapse the entire enterprise. What could have been a great genre-bound epic (such as Heat) ends up being just an uneven-but-occasionally-excellent exercise.

76/100

Mandy (2018)

Directed by Panos Cosmatos. Starring Nicolas Cage, Linus Roache, Andrea Riseborough, Ned Dennehy, Bill Duke, Richard Brake, Olwen Fouéré, Clément Baronnet, Line Pillet. [R]

Bizarre, surreal horror-phantasmagoria provides no short cuts or amendes honorable; either one resists, or one gives in. A deviant cult, working with (presumably) actual demon bikers, kidnaps Riseborough, sending her beau (Cage) on an anguished mission of blood-soaked revenge. A volcano of ultra-saturated colors (reds, mostly), lysergic acid-soaked celluloid, gonzo performances, extreme gore, madness and despair. At its best, hypnotic and visceral, an unforgettable vision quest like the most gorgeous of nightmares; at its worst, soporific navel-gazing to compete with the worst aspects of Nicolas Winding Refn. Obviously not for all tastes, but if the mood strikes just right, the rewards will linger long after. Numerous camera shots could easily be used as album cover art for progressive rock and/or death metal bands.

75/100

At Eternity’s Gate (2018)

Directed by Julian Schnabel. Starring Willem Dafoe, Oscar Isaac, Rupert Friend, Mads Mikkelson, Mathieu Amalric, Emmanuelle Seigner, Niels Arestup. [PG-13]

Dramatic portrait of the final years of Vincent Van Gogh (Dafoe), told through his genius-stroke art, fevered mind, and tireless obsessions. Dafoe’s remarkably affecting work ranks with the best of his career, though his performance gets obscured at times by a showy visual palette. Meant to reflect Van Gogh’s mindset and feelings on painting, the restless handheld camera wavers and tilts and crashes into close-ups at whim; the technique is effective when the artist travels into the countryside to catch inspiration in natural light, but tends to be erratic and ostentatious in closer, more confined quarters. Rarely, however, has the act of creating art been realized in such a striking, arousing fashion. The film’s postulation that the artist’s death was not a suicide is bound to rankle those in faithful circles. Title is derived from the name of one of Van Gogh’s paintings, also known as “Sorrowing Old Man.”

74/100

First Man (2018)

Directed by Damien Chazelle. Starring Ryan Gosling, Claire Foy, Kyle Chandler, Ciarán Hinds, Jason Clarke, Corey Stoll, Shea Whigham, Christopher Abbott, Lukas Haas, Patrick Fugit, Olivia Hamilton, Gavin Warren. [PG-13]

Visually striking but curiously earthbound biopic/historical drama focusing on Neil Armstrong (Gosling) and NASA’s efforts to put him on the moon during the 1960s. Film’s brushstrokes are often painted in a detached, procedural fashion, aiming more for docudrama authenticity than stirring melodrama. While this pursuit seems appropriate given the enigmatic character of its hero, it misses out on opportunities to find the music and poetry in such a colossal endeavor, only occasionally finding its beating heart and expressive imagination. Nevertheless, the technical achievement on display cannot be overlooked (especially the sensational X-15 test pilot and lunar landing sequences) and the script and performances are solid across the board; Foy, as Armstrong’s wife, Janet, stands out among the reliable cast. Could have been a nice companion piece to The Right Stuff (which focused on the Mercury program, while this one involved the Gemini and Apollo missions), but can’t compete with the earlier masterpiece in scope, meaning, or entertainment value; still worth a look, though, especially to those interested in the space race.

74/100

Dragged Across Concrete (2018)

Directed by S. Craig Zahler. Starring Mel Gibson, Vince Vaughn, Tony Kittles, Michael Jai White, Laurie Holden, Jennifer Carpenter, Tattiawna Jones, Myles Truitt, Thomas Kretchmann, Don Johnson, Primo Allen, Matthew MacCaull, Fred Melamed, Udo Kier. [R]

Long, methodically-paced crime thriller delivers the moral ambiguity, fatalistic provocation, and slow-burn pulverizing we’ve come to expect from writer/director Zahler. Gibson and Vaughn are hard-bitten police partners, recently suspended for applying excessive force on a drug dealer, who embark on a dangerous surveillance of an enigmatic criminal (Kretchmann), intending to rip him off. A little too self-conscious at times, and the payoff isn’t as churlishly satisfying as it could have been, but Zahler knows his way around arthouse pulp excess and populates the wings with intriguing side characters (though one participant is set up with a pointless abundance of personality detail and back story only to kill them off as soon as they enter the main storyline). Same as Zahler’s last two directorial efforts, not recommended for those with an aversion for nasty, ultraviolent genre fare; those that can embrace those qualities can go right ahead.

73/100

Halloween (2018)

Directed by David Gordon Green. Starring Jamie Lee Curtis, Judy Greer, Andi Matichak, Will Patton, Virginia Gardner, Toby Huss, Dylan Arnold, Haluk Bilginer, Jefferson Hall, Rhian Rees, James Jude Courtney, Drew Scheid, Miles Robbins, Omar Dorsey. [R]

Every Halloween sequel since the original is dismissed with the wave of a chef’s knife (good call) in this follow-up that finally gets it right. Forty years have passed since Michael Myers wiped out a handful of Haddonfield teenagers, and survivor Laurie (Curtis) has devoted her distressed life to preparing herself, her home, and her family for the possibility of Michael’s return; that “family” was hardly enthused about the whole thing, which explains why her daughter (Greer) is estranged and her granddaughter (Matichak) does a lot of the same stupid things that most soon-to-be-victims do in slasher films. Filled with clever throwbacks to the earlier films (the original, mostly), not to mention real scares and suspense (how novel!), this does almost everything a good horror sequel should do—escalate matters, remain faithful, but carve out a new identity. Some predictable plotting during the middle act when the Shape does most of his standard stalk-and-slash-the-young’uns routines, and a sub-plot with Bilginer’s Dr. Loomis-esque character doesn’t pay off so much as fly off the rails immediately before fizzling out, but some good spooky moments and lockstep build-up in the early passages, a terrific long-shot sequence with the Shape weaving in and out of houses gathering weapons and upping the body count, and the climactic confrontation with three generations of Strode ladies battling against “pure evil” put this one, ahem, a cut above the competition. Script by Green, Danny McBride, and Jeff Fradley; John Carpenter is one of the executive producers.

73/100

A Simple Favor (2018)

Directed by Paul Feig. Starring Anna Kendrick, Blake Lively, Henry Golding, Bashir Salahuddin, Andrew Rannells, Linda Cardellini, Rupert Friend, Jean Smart. [R]

Single parent and mommy vlogger Kendrick turns into an amateur sleuth after her recently-acquired best pal Lively (a stylish and tart-tongued enigma) asks her to pick up her kid from school as a favor, then disappears. Clever, semi-chic mystery-suspenser is bright but coldly ironic, full of strong frozen-gin martinis, divine walk-in closets, and 60s French pop that swings; well-matched Kendrick and Lively keep the proceedings invigorating enough, which makes up for Golding’s lack of panache as Lively’s arch husband. Jessica Sharzer adapted from Darcey Bell’s debut novel, and kudos to her for keeping the scripting tight and piquant—the average Feig film, the decent ones and the otherwise, tends to be overly flabby with improv and listless interludes. Can’t escape some cursory similarities to the superior Gone Girl, but fans of sophisticated comic-thrillers should find this to their liking.

73/100

Upgrade (2018)

Directed by Leigh Whannell. Starring Logan Marshall-Green, Harrison Gilbertson, Betty Gabriel, Melanie Vallejo, Benedict Hardie, Linda Cropper, Richard Cawthorne, Christopher Kirby, (voice) Simon Maiden. [R]

A technophobic average Joe (Marshall-Green) and his wife (Vallejo) are attacked by four violent thugs, leaving her dead and him as a quadriplegic, but after being given an experimental chip implant that allows him to walk again, the implant’s AI (voiced by Maiden) states that it can help him track down the men responsible and exact revenge. An unapologetically schlocky B-picture bristling with kineticism and deadpan black humor, its mix of cold tech, brutal violence, body horror, and straight-faced melodrama is reminiscent at times of early-80s John Carpenter and David Cronenberg. Writer/director Whannell doesn’t overreach in terms of ambition or satirical targets, keeping it lean, tight, and nasty; he especially has fun with the fight choreography and gyroscopic camerawork, turning the protagonist into what can honestly be described as an unwitting “Smooth Criminal” backup dancer who obliterates his enemies. Most of those enemies—the ones cluttering his path for retribution—are a dull pile of tough-guy clichés, and at least one of the twists is obvious from the get-go, but kudos to Whannell and company for going the extra step and wrapping it up with a nihilistic kick of an epilogue. Set in the US, but filmed in Australia (pay attention during the car chase scene).

73/100

The Hate U Give (2018)

Directed by George Tillman Jr. Starring Amandla Stenberg, Russell Hornsby, Regina Hall, Lamar Johnson, Keneti James Apa, Common, Dominique Fishback, Sabrina Carpenter, Anthony Mackie, Megan Lawless, Algee Smith, Issa Rae, TJ Wright, Rhonda Johnson Dents. [PG-13]

Starr (Stenberg) attends a predominantly white private school while living in what her classmates would dismiss as “the ghetto”, and having to alter her behavior back and forth to fit in at home and school comes to a head after being witness to a black friend’s murder at the hands of a white police officer, leaving her to choose between playing it safe and standing up for what she believes is right. Timely enough to describe as “ripped from the headlines”, this motivated and sometimes provocative narrative doesn’t shy away from complexities, but has the fiery, hurting point of view of good agitprop, and Stenberg was well chosen for a face that can be expressive while trying to hide bottled emotions. Ambitions leave a few strands slender and frayed, like the grip a street gang has on her community and Starr’s father’s background within their ranks—his speeches explaining how he came up with his children’s names gives Starr’s burden an intriguing quasi-mythic quality—but while the accumulation can turn into a sprawling jumble at length, enough secluded episodes, conversations, and conundrums have visceral yet intelligent power. Only the staged and hard-to-swallow climactic scene strikes a truly sour note, sending things off into the denouement beneath a cloud of frustration. The title, referencing a Tupac Shakur song/philosophy (the acronym T.H.U.G.L.I.F.E. standing for “The Hate U Give Little Infants F—s Everybody”), is also the name of Angie Thomas’ source novel; Audrey Wells adapted the material for the screen.

72/100

Vice (2018)

Directed by Adam McKay. Starring Christian Bale, Amy Adams, Steve Carell, Sam Rockwell, Jesse Plemons, Son McManus, Justin Kirk, Alison Pill, Lily Rabe, Eddie Marsan, Tyler Perry, Naomi Watts, Bill Camp, John Hillner. [R]

One would probably have to go back almost twenty-five years to Ron Shelton’s Cobb to find a biopic that so vociferously insisted that its subject was such an irredeemably heinous human being. Bale is both brilliant and uncanny as Dick Cheney, the man who—the film argues—went from someone with no principles or passions to speak of to perhaps the most powerful and insidiously influential person in the free world (even more so than the president), someone who went all-in on both the unitary executive theory and the concept that since the vice president straddles the executive and legislative branch, he/she does not need to answer to either one. As with The Big Short, writer/director McKay uses snarky satire as a delivery system for a wealth of information (much of it fictionalized or tweaked through creative liberties, but then again, the film does confess up front that Cheney is an intensely secretive individual and “[they] tried [their] f—ing best”), but even though the script is creative and provides plenty of laughs, it’s also overly gimmicky and rarely insightful, preferring an ironic, almost smug spin on historical events and figures of gross corruption to ever tackling the subjects with courage or illumination. Among the unsuccessful gimmicks is the employment of an odd (and oddly unsatisfying) plot device in the form of narrator and occasional onscreen participant Plemons; one of the more successful ones is the hilarious happy-ending “fake-out” just before the hour mark. Bale is surrounded by a game and well-chosen supporting cast, including Adams channeling a little bit of Lady MacBeth as Lynne Cheney, and Rockwell channeling the sort of good ole (frat) boy who’d rather let others do the dirty work as George W. Bush. McKay makes a “cameo” through a brief clip of his own stent insert after suffering a heart attack during post-production; it was slipped into a scene of Cheney undergoing his own operation during the film. Alfred Molina also appears briefly. Oscar winner for Best Makeup & Hairstyling. Co-produced by, among others, McKay, Will Ferrell, and Brad Pitt.

72/100

Creed II (2018)

Directed by Steven Caple Jr. Starring Michael B. Jordan, Sylvester Stallone, Tessa Thompson, Wood Harris, Dolph Lundgren, Phylicia Rashad, Florian “Big Nasty” Munteanu, Russell Hornsby. [PG-13]

Despite a satisfying wrap-up with closure at the end of Creed, the temptation to return to the well for another go-around was too strong to ignore; fortunately, while the script reverts to formula and offers few surprises, it still works, thanks in large part to its commitment to character and heart. The premise is the sort of thing that could only exist in Hollywood: after Adonis Creed (Jordan), son of the deceased Apollo Creed, wins the heavyweight championship belt, a challenger arrives in the form of Viktor Drago (Munteanu), son of Ivan Drago (Lundgren), former opponent of Creed’s trainer Rocky Balboa (Stallone) and, oh, yeah, the man who killed Creed’s pop. Though the boxing scenes are competently-staged and rousing enough, it’s the performances, relationships, baggage and emotion that make this a cut above the routine cash-grab sequel level—not just the well-worn ones from the prior film, but also the morose fate of elder Drago and his family after losing his mid-80s bout. Brigitte Nielsen reprises her role from Rocky IV as well, though it would best be classified as a cameo.

71/100

The Rider (2018)

Directed by Chloé Zhao. Starring Brady Jandreau, Tim Jandreau, Lane Scott, Cat Clifford, Lily Jandreau, Terri Dawn Pourier. [R]

A once-promising Lakota rodeo cowboy (Brady Jandreau) is sidelined by an accident that leaves him brain-damaged and prone to seizures. In recovery, he insists his future is in riding and performing, but it’s a struggle just to make ends meet, his family ties are frayed, and the outlook is bleak. Chloé Zhao’s sophomore feature is raw and honest, told at the pace of an elegy (which it is to a degree), and mostly avoids overplaying the familiar process through which the protagonist comes to term with his life, masculinity and responsibilities. The “Indians-as-cowboys” conceit is promising, the symbiosis of direction and performance engenders a low-key and wistful mood, and the photography is ravishing, but it’s still disappointing that the opportunity to explore the customs and identity of this culture with complex definition is passed over in favor of surface studies and generalized emotions (calling it “The Wrestler, but with a rodeo rider” would be wrong, but not entirely wrong). Young Jandreau’s onscreen family is his real family, and most of the supporting cast of non-professional actors essentially play themselves using their real names. Debuted at Cannes in 2017.

71/100

Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018)

Directed by Peyton Reed. Starring Paul Rudd, Evangeline Lilly, Michael Douglas, Hannah John-Kamen, Michael Peña, Laurence Fishburne, Michelle Pfeiffer, Randall Park, Walton Goggins, Abby Ryder Fortson, David Dastmalchian, Tip “T.I.” Harris, Judy Greer, Bobby Cannavale. [PG-13]

Under house arrest for the last couple of years because of his involvement in the dust-up among the fractured members of the Avengers in Captain America: Civil War, Scott Lang/Ant-Man has become estranged from the Pym’s, who are working to construct a “tunnel” into the Quantum Realm so they can try and rescue the long-missing matriarch. But fate (and contrivances) intervene, and soon the three of them are working together at not only “going subatomic,” but also fending off a mysterious interloper (John-Kamen) who can phase in and out of a physical matter state. The engine driving this Ant-Man sequel never reaches a higher gear, failing to trigger much in the way of high stakes or suspense—a lack of a compelling or consistent antagonist certainly hurts—but it’s pacy and funny enough to still make for solid entertainment. Lilly’s promotion from trainer/love interest to super-powered partner, Wasp (possessing many of the same abilities as Ant-Man, plus a set of wings that negates the need for her to hitch a ride on flying ants), is a gratifying one, but in spite of the more substantial role, her heroics never come into their own, and the duo doesn’t “team up” often enough in the action sequences. As in the predecessor, Peña steals a few scenes as Lang’s loquacious and upbeat ex-crook partner; Fishburne gets a thankless role as a former associate of Hank Pym’s, and almost all of Pfeiffer’s screentime is reserved for the final fifteen minutes or so. After his “On Cinema” partner/nemesis, Gregg Turkington, showed up for a scene in the first Ant-Man, Tim Heidecker makes a brief appearance as a tour boat captain here.

70/100

Den Skyldige (2018)

Directed by Gustav Möller. Starring Jakob Cedergren, (voices) Jessica Dinnage, Johan Olsen, Omar Shargawi, Katinka Evers-Jahnsen.

Temporarily reassigned to answer emergency switchboard calls, Copenhagen policeman Cedergren is already feeling the pressure from impending fallout over on-duty misconduct when he receives a call from a woman who may have been kidnapped by her husband. Good single-location exercise in escalating tension, evolving narrative, and thematic parallels (if a touch all-too-convenient on the last count) make the most of the limited story idea. Cedergren is effective whether under guarded control or fraying at all ends, which is critical to the film’s success because debuting director Möller struggles to find fresh ways to stage the action; even with a veteran in command, I suspect this material would still work just as well (if not better) as a radio play. Debuted at Sundance. English title translation is “the guilty”, which is the name of the 2021 American remake.

70/100

mid90s (2018)

Directed by Jonah Hill. Starring Sunny Suljic, Na-Kel Smith, Olan Prenatt, Lucas Hedges, Gio Galicia, Katherine Waterston, Ryder McLaughlin, Alexa Denise. [R]

Young Suljic seeks respite from his troubled home life by ingratiating himself into a pack of older skater kids. Coming-of-age drama doesn’t break ground so much as relive past snapshot glories (literally and figuratively); nostalgic, but it eschews rose-colored shades for tougher truths and uglier fall-outs. Hill, making his directorial debut (he also wrote the script), shows confidence, if not much originality, preferring to “attack” the material as a laidback but observant witness, echoing early Richard Linklater and Larry Clark’s Kids (that film’s writer, Harmony Korine, has a cameo). Much of the cast is comprised of non-professionals (and it shows), but they bring a rough-around-the-edges authenticity that couldn’t have been achieved by up-and-coming stars. Soundtrack captures notable tunes of the era (Pixies, Wu-Tang Clan, Nirvana, Morrissey, etc.), though it’s curious that the era’s so-called “skate punk” of Strung Out, NOFX, et al, was ignored.

70/100

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)

Directed by Bob Persichetti, Peter Ramsey, Rodney Rotham. Starring (voices) Shameik Moore, Jake Johnson, Brian Tyree Henry, Hailee Steinfeld, Mahershala Ali, Liev Schreiber, Lily Tomlin, John Mulaney, Kimiko Glenn, Nicolas Cage, Luna Lauren Velez, Kathryn Hahn, Zoe Kravitz, Chris Pine. [PG]

Ambitious animated adaptation of the Miles Morales-storyline in the Spider-Man universe centers on an Afro-Latino teen taking over as the webslinger after the death of Peter Parker, as well as the introduction of a multiverse concept where myriad spider-centric heroes from different dimensions appear in NYC (including, among others, a perky, anime-styled Peni Parker and Peter Porker, aka Spider-Ham). Dazzling production is as close to one-of-a-kind as mainstream feature-length animated films go, combining hand-drawn and computer animation in exciting, fluid ways; it’s always great to look at. Unfortunately, the story itself is often plodding, obvious, and illogical (despite the positive message it’s delivering) in all the ways that hinder many modern superhero movies, and the over-extended climax is more noisy and chaotic than visceral and rousing. The voice work is uniformly good while Mulaney, Glenn and Cage’s characters are the scene-stealers, but they are sadly underused; spin-off, anyone?

70/100

Overlord (2018)

Directed by Julius Avery. Starring Jovan Adepo, Wyatt Russell, Mathilde Ollivier, John Magaro, Pilou Asbæk, Dominic Applewhite, Iain De Caestecker, Bokeem Woodbine, Gianny Taufer. [R]

Blood-splattered war-horror-action hybrid sends the few survivors of an American paratrooper behind-enemy-lines mission to a small French village where Nazis are secretly carrying out shocking (and shockingly gruesome) experiments in order to create immortal and indestructible super-soldiers for a thousand-year Reich. Reads like schlock on the page—and it surely is—but it’s very serious schlock, with hardly any tongue-in-cheek humor or winks to the audience; it’s also skillfully-made schlock, with a number of visually exciting sequences that compensate for a lack of character definition and uneven levels of suspense and overall interest. Most of the best bits are throwaways, like a talking head attached only to a naked spine or a baseball bouncing down stairs like an homage to The Changeling, but gorehounds should be delighted by a plethora of sickening sights, and the average unsqueamish action fan should find its pace and periodic eruptions of Wolfenstein-esque slaughter satisfying enough throughout. Co-produced by J. J. Abrams.

69/100

Wildlife (2018)

Directed by Paul Dano. Starring Carey Mulligan, Ed Oxenbould, Jake Gyllenhaal, Bill Camp, Darryl Cox, Zoe Margaret Colletti. [PG-13]

1960s-set domestic drama seen primarily through the eyes of a sad, uncertain teenager (Oxenbould): Dad (Gyllenhaal) loses his job and leaves home for an extended spell fighting a forest fire, resulting in Mom (Mulligan) having an affair with the owner (Camp) of a car dealership while struggling to keep it together. Paul Dano’s directorial debut, an adaptation of a novel by Richard Ford (Dano scripted with partner Zoe Kazan), is meticulous in its period-piece details, but unresolved in its tone from scene to scene. Mulligan’s brittle demeanor as a repressed housewife peels away while she transitions into the frayed hysterics of a Todd Haynes-style tragedy-in-heels for the final act; she pushes it right to the line without going over, and saves the character-behavior particulars that don’t always ring true. Scenes of uncomfortable dancing and through-the-blinds stalking are uncomfortable bedfellows with the warmth each parent shares with their confused child. The times they were a-changin’ in the early-60s, but the picture-perfect exterior masking a volatile, ugly underbelly idea doesn’t always flourish within such trim dressing and a handful of clunky dialogue passages. Debuted at Sundance.

69/100

Destroyer (2018)

Directed by Karyn Kusama. Starring Nicole Kidman, Sebastian Stan, Toby Kebbel, Tatiana Maslany, Jade Pettyjohn, Bradley Whitford, Scoot McNairy, James Jordan, Beau Knapp, Toby Huss. [R]

Grim, brooding crime drama centered on haggard detective Kidman (barely recognizable except in flashback) suspecting that criminal Kebbel, who she associated with when she was undercover years ago, is responsible for a recent murder. As an experience, sometimes grueling, sometimes riveting; as a story, it covers pretty familiar territory, masking its late-game revelations in ways that are less clever scheme than artifice. Proudly wears its no-holds-barred badge, even at excess (the protagonist even grudgingly trades sexual favors for information at one point); though never dull, its pace sometimes resembles the sluggish shuffle that Kidman sports. She is what holds the film together, a weary but obsessed figure stalking the city on a slow-burn rampage, pausing only to measure the weight of regret and loss for her and her fractured family.

68/100

Outlaw King (2018)

Directed by David Mackenzie. Starring Chris Pine, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Tony Curran, Florence Pugh, Billy Howle, Alastair Mackenzie, Lorne MacFadyen, Stephen Dillane, Callan Mulvey, James Cosmo, Stephen McMillan, Paul Blair. [R]

Muddy and bloody medieval story of Robert the Bruce (Pine) during the Wars of Scottish Independence, defying English King Edward’s heir (Howle) without the support of most of the Scottish nobles, which leads to a series of brutal skirmishes between those loyal to the Prince of Wales and the outnumbered few who flock to the Bruce’s banner. Organizing the dramatically-licensed historical details and various principal players isn’t director Mackenzie’s strong suit, so he overcompensates in the early-going with distracting camerawork employing lengthy tracking shots, as if afraid viewers will get restless listening to all the lofty chatter of bending the knee, deep-seated feuds, ancestral holdings, etc. There’s also the issue of Bruce’s courtship/marriage with Elizabeth de Burgh (Pugh), which is hard to swallow—more swooning than pragmatism—despite the actors being up to task. Indeed, Pine’s earthy gravitas is the firm foundation the movie needs as it transitions into a battle-strewn action picture down the stretch, with Robert’s strategies and mercurial ally James Douglas’ (Taylor-Johnson) vengeful rage resulting in plenty of carnage both graciously suggested and graphically depicted. Doesn’t have the broad-stroke emotional satisfaction of the best medieval war epics (including quasi-precursor Braveheart), but it’s a ripping yarn for genre enthusiasts in spite of the missteps. Debuted at the Toronto International Film Festival, but was shortened by the director by more than fifteen minutes before its commercial release.

68/100

Black ‘47 (2018)

Directed by Lance Daly. Starring James Frecheville, Hugo Weaving, Freddie Fox, Sarah Greene, Jim Broadbent, Stephen Rea, Moe Dunford, Barry Keoghan, Andrew Bennett, Aidan McArdle, Dermot Crowley. [R]

Relentlessly dour period revenge story set in Ireland during the Great Famine. A humorless ex-Ranger for the British infantry (Frecheville) returns to his suffering homeland to find much of his family dead and the survivors in a bad way (and about to get worse); when he sets out to “right a few wrongs,” a veteran (Weaving) who once served with the Ranger joins up with an English officer (Fox) assigned to pursue the murderous brigand and bring him to justice. Shot on an aptly desaturated palette (nearly everything in sight save for the red and gold of the English uniforms looks some shade of grey), the film takes on a curious tone, tackling serious subject matter and then rendering it in pulp. As such, it’s rich in visual detail and grim splendor, but too programmed to take seriously and too somber for visceral pleasures—one starts to wish that director/co-writer Daly had a little more Quentin Tarantino in him and just gone all the way. Ending at a literal crossroads is a touch heavy-handed, but the pic gets at least one detail right—those mid-19th-century firearms sure were unreliable. Dedicated to the memory of “all those who died, and those who went away, never to return,” but not, surprisingly enough, to “John Rambo,” who Frecheville oftentimes resembles (the First Blood version, at least).

67/100

Love, Simon (2018)

Directed by Greg Berlanti. Starring Nick Robinson, Katherine Langford, Alexandra Shipp, Logan Miller, Jorge Lendeborg Jr., Jennifer Garner, Josh Duhamel, Tony Hale, Keiynan Lonsdale, Miles Heizer, Natasha Rothwell, Talitha Bateman, Clark Moore. [PG-13]

Simon (Robinson) narrates at the outset that he’s just like “you” (presuming that this “you” is an upscale suburban with good friends and an almost impossibly happy and well-adjusted family), except that he has a secret that no one knows but him: he’s gay. He discovers a confession on the internet from a closeted gay student with whom he strikes up an anonymous epistolary relationship, but when a cluelessly exasperating classmate (Miller) learns about the secret, he extorts Simon to help him with get with Simon’s cute friend (Shipp) in exchange for his silence. A crowd-pleaser dealing with a potentially touchy subject, but handled with a careful mix of candor and sensitivity. The characters are quirky and likable, there are a few bright and affecting moments that bring on the smiles (cheerful or bittersweet), but the movie too often has an insular, overly-polished reality and never fully takes off; plus the script manufactures plot turns and character decisions that don’t feel organic, especially the blackmail angle that feels like it belongs in one of the dime-a-dozen teen movies from the turn of the century (She’s All That, Whatever It Takes, etc.). Being the first film produced by a major studio with a gay teen as the central focus (instead of an ancillary character), it may not be the winning leap one might wish it was, but it’s certainly a step in a promising direction.

67/100

Solo (2018)

Directed by Ron Howard. Starring Alden Ehrenreich, Woody Harrelson, Emilia Clarke, Donald Glover, Joonas Suotamo, Paul Bettany, Thandie Newton, Erin Kellyman, (voices) Phoebe Waller-Bridge, Jon Favreau, Linda Hunt. [PG-13]

Spinoff “origin story” of Han Solo (Ehrenreich) in the Star Wars universe is loaded with references and explanations (including unnecessary tidbits like revealing that “Solo” isn’t his actual last name), but gratefully has minimal connection to the main saga beyond a few recognizable names. In escaping from gangsters and Imperial troops, Han is forced to abandon his childhood friend/lover (Clarke), but does whatever he can to get a ship and go back for her, including take part in a criminal enterprise to steal valuable fuel for crimelord Bettany. Hardly a space opera, with virtually no mention of the Force or Jedi knights, this combination space western and heist actioner is fairly predictable and sticks to conventional plot ingredients and character types, plunging headlong through a series of fights, chases and escapes that can be exciting in the moment, but have minimal weight or lasting power. Quality-wise, the most consistent film scene-for-scene in the franchise since The Empire Strikes Back…but its consistency is simply being fine. Ehrenreich has the smirk and twinkle down, but lacks Harrison Ford’s laidback charisma; Glover stands out as a younger version of silky smooth Lando Calrissian (the picture’s superior rogue); Waller-Bridge amusingly voices a droid as a parody of militant activism (Droid Justice Warrior?) but has too much “personality” for a robot, even by Star Wars universe standards. A cameo from a presumed-dead villain is asinine (though apparently canon??); Clint Howard, of course, also cameos. Full title: Solo: A Star Wars Story.

67/100

Bumblebee (2018)

Directed by Travis Knight. Starring Hailee Steinfeld, Pamela Adlon, Jorge Lendeborg Jr., John Cena, Jason Drucker, Stephen Schneider, John Ortiz, Len Cariou, Glynn Turman, Gracie Dzienny, Ricardo Hoyos, (voices) Angela Bassett, Justin Theroux, Peter Cullen, David Sobolov. [PG-13]

It took six tries, but they finally got it right—a giant, shape-shifting alien robot movie set mostly on Earth that kinda works! (Michael Bay stepping down from the director’s chair for a more limited role as co-producer couldn’t possibly have anything to do with that, right?) Arriving just a year-and-a-half after the last swollen trainwreck in the franchise, this is a spinoff/prequel with a much smaller Transformer cast—aside from a few appearances by Optimus Prime, it’s mostly just one Autobot and a pair of Decepticons causing mayhem—and a much, much less annoying collection of human heroes and antagonists. On the verge of losing the war against the Decepticons on their home planet of Cybertron, the Autobots dispatch a scout called B-127 (Bumblebee, if ya nasty) to Earth as a last-ditch effort to regroup. After surviving an attack by American military forces and a Decepticon ambush, Bumblebee hides out as a yellow Volkswagen Beetle, and is subsequently discovered and claimed by Steinfeld’s frustrated teenage tomboy. Friendship blossoms between the girl and the ‘bot, but here comes a couple more Decepticons to finish the job on the underdog Autobot. There are plot holes aplenty, especially as they relate to connecting this story to the main series, and just an iota of character development for John Cena’s square-jawed tough guy would have been nice, but unlike the earlier Transformers movies, the action scenes are shot and edited with clarity, the stakes are both comprehensible and reasonable, the colors are bright and images crisp, the CGI effects mostly look realistic, the big robots move and metamorphose smoothly, the comic relief is actually humorous, no disgusting race/gender stereotypes, the whole thing clocks in under two hours…it’s not a great movie by any means, but it feels practically miraculous after years of bombast and bloat insulting the senses and intelligence of astute moviegoers. Minor point of frustration: the relentless pop song cues used as a nagging, lazy reminder this story is set in the 1980s. Followed by Transformers: Rise of the Beasts.

66/100

Revenge (2018)

Directed by Coralie Fargeat. Starring Matilda Lutz, Kevin Janssens, Vincent Colombe, Guillaume Bouchède. [R]

The title says it all for Matilda Lutz’s wannabe starlet, so desperate to break into the biz she’d accompany a married man to a stylish desert resort in the middle of nowhere with a couple of his staring, slobbering hunting friends in attendance. Things go from awful to worse for her, abandoned to a grisly fate in the wilderness, but she’s resourceful and determined (and, apparently, able to withstand high amounts of extreme pain and duress), and she chooses reciprocal bloodshed as the best means for survival. Misogynist exploitation is turned on its head in this blunt rape-revenge fantasy; there’s less art than artifice, and it’s high on style, low on plausibility, lit and colored to dazzle, although its favorite hue is blood red. Its attitudes mostly rest on the surface, with thoughtful dialogue and character depth at a premium, but there’s a little subversive wit tucked in there to break up the violent, panting monotony. In the opening act, the camera ogles the female form more than the average stripclub-set music video, but after the turn toward the brutal and barbaric, she’s desexualized as a silent avenging angel. Now when the camera tracks her from behind, it’s her lower back we follow, cheeks tastefully kept below frame, and the director turns the tables (and the gaze) so it’s the male abuser who’s fully undressed during the climactic stalk-and-shoot. A glossy product full of righteous fury that does the genre tropes pretty well, but when all is said is done, the spin is fleeting, trapped by archetypes, and a package of “pretty well-done” genre tropes—even after the transformation—is all it really is. Premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2017.

66/100

Tomb Raider (2018)

Directed by Roar Uthaug. Starring Alicia Vikander, Dominic West, Walton Goggins, Daniel Wu, Kristin Scott Thomas, Derek Jacobi. [PG-13]

This franchise reboot goes the expected route—character origin story—but is refreshingly unpretentious and grounded enough to make most of the (bad) memories of the earlier efforts fade away. Vikander slides right into the new-and-improved Lara Croft role, capable but flawed, investigating the disappearance of her archaeologist father (West). The clues take her to an island in the Devil’s Sea (where she ignores the fact that it’s called the Devil’s Sea) and encounters an expedition to uncover the tomb of the fabled Yamatai Queen Himiko, led by the ruthless Goggins, who works for a shadowy organization called Trinity. Fleet of foot for a little over an hour, coasting on the cultivated fire of its heroine and a series of visually exciting, hanging-by-the-fingernails set pieces, but loses its way in the trudging final act, often sidelining the star of its own show. The script’s shallow, almost obligatory swipes at backstory and mythology don’t spark much interest, but when it sticks to Vikander’s “rise of the Tomb Raider” arc and nimble but exhausted athleticism, there’s fun to be had. Nick Frost cameos.

65/100

Juliet, Naked (2018)

Directed by Jesse Peretz. Starring Rose Byrne, Ethan Hawke, Chris O’Dowd, Lily Brazier, Ayoola Smart, Denise Gough, Azhy Robertson, Phil Davis. [R]

After museum curator Byrne negatively reviews an old collection of acoustic demos from Tucker Crowe (Hawke), a former musician long absent from the public eye, Crowe contacts her and they slowly begin an epistolary relationship, even though she already has a boyfriend (O’Dowd), an obsessive fan of Crowe’s music. Quaint, rambling, semi-charmed seriocomic romance is a mixed bag, but has its share of pleasures. Hawke is well-cast and Byrne’s rumpled optimism makes for a winsome protagonist; O’Dowd plays arrogant, but there’s weary wisdom to the way his idealized fixation on someone else reveals how he’s actually self-absorbed. Hawke’s lifetime regrets and family drama aren’t nearly as interesting as the film’s perceptive attitudes toward the meaning and ownership of art. Bits of Crowe’s music play throughout, very middle-of-the-road stuff—it would have worked a lot better if it was either actually quite good (to play up the poignancy angle) or embarrassingly bad (to play up the satire angle). Based on a Nick Hornby novel. The biggest laugh lands during a mid-credit sequence, so stick around for it.

64/100

Mom and Dad (2018)

Directed by Brian Taylor. Starring Nicolas Cage, Selma Blair, Anne Winters, Zackary Arthur, Robert T. Cunningham, Olivia Crocicchia, Lance Henriksen, Marilyn Dodds Frank, Rachel Melvin, Sharon Gee. [R]

A mysterious television signal turns parents into raving lunatics driven by an unstoppable impulse to murder their own offspring. Wickedly over-the-top horror-comedy doesn’t have much going on underneath the surface (its satirical attacks are old hat in all ways but tone), but gives Cage and Blair a darkly giddy opportunity to swing for the fences. Even at just eighty-something minutes, it comes dangerously close to wearing out its welcome, so thank goodness for scattered, off-kilter highlights like Cage’s line reading of, “Sawzall saws all!” and a fiendish kink to the routine in the final act when the predators suddenly become the prey. Director Taylor also scripted and co-produced, and it’s shocking to realize his last film (also with Cage) was that deplorably bad Ghost Rider sequel. Premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2017. “Dr.” Mehmet Oz appears as himself.

64/100

The Miseducation of Cameron Post (2018)

Directed by Desiree Akhavan. Starring Chloë Grace Moretz, Sasha Lane, Forrest Goodluck, Jennifer Ehle, John Gallagher Jr., Emily Skeggs, Owen Campbell, Melanie Ehrlich, Christopher Dylan White, Kerry Butler, Quinn Shephard.

Story of Moretz’ titular teen’s tenure at a gay conversion therapy center has poignancy and some telling details, but it eschews a probing and/or hard-hitting approach for softball sensitivity. No real surprises, either, as it demonstrates that the youths find more comfort with their fellow “disciples” than the oppressive, close-minded authoritarians, and that maybe—just maybe—this isn’t the way to treat confused adolescents. Several good performances hold the picture together when it meanders or hits the same notes too often, but the ending is a tough nut to crack since it manages to be tidy and open-ended, plus a little hard to swallow. Slapped with an NC-17 by the MPAA despite containing no graphic nudity, the producers released it without a rating instead. Premiered at the Sundance Film Festival.

63/100

Mortal Engines (2018)

Directed by Christian Rivers. Starring Hera Hilmar, Robert Sheehan, Hugo Weaving, Jihae Kim, Leila George, Stephen Lang, Ronan Raftery, Patrick Malahide, Colin Salmon, Andrew Lees, Regé-Jean Page, Frankie Adams, Leifur Sigurdarson, Menik Gooneratne, Sarah Peirse, Kee Chan. [PG-13]

In a distant post-apocalyptic future, a motorized London-on-wheels devours smaller, weaker towns for Darwinistic harvesting purposes; young Hilmar and Sheehan are pursued by the city’s guildmaster Weaving after a couple of botched murder attempts, eventually joining forces with an opposition group called the Anti-Traction League. Epic-scale, superbly-designed production is a feast for the eyes and imagination, an extravaganza of inventive special effects and technology, but it’s populated by thinly-drawn characters and driven by an incessant, unevenly-paced storyline—a strange but promising premise never fully realized. Aside from Lang’s haunting, relentless cyborg stalker, nothing much registers beyond the sheer spectacle and exciting world-building ideas; it’s the sort of steampunk-fantasy world one would love revisiting and exploring at length…just with something more original and/or engaging in the narrative driver’s seat. With everything so rushed and jumbled and overstuffed (Raftery’s character simply disappears around the two-thirds point, never to be mentioned again), it almost certainly would have worked better expanded into two parts or even a trilogy, but considering how unsuccessful the film was at the box office, the completing story chapters would have never made it to the big screen anyway.

61/100

What Keeps You Alive (2018)

Directed by Colin Minihan. Starring Brittany Allen, Hannah Emily Anderson, Martha MacIsaac, Joey Klein. [R]

A young couple (Allen, Anderson) travel to—where else?—a remote lakeside cabin to commemorate their one-year anniversary, but the celebration is marred by betrayal and murder and cat-and-mouse games (someone should have told them that the traditional first anniversary gift is paper, not a hunting knife). Writer/director Minihan’s chilly, tense thriller is engrossing and suspenseful at the outset, but stumbles in the back half with redundant stalking/chasing scenes and senseless decision-making designed only to keep the story going. Despite abandoning reality, Allen and Anderson’s performances keep it watchable throughout. Allen also composed the film’s score; the use of a Silverchair song is peculiar enough to assume it’s based on some sort of in-joke with the filmmakers/actors.

61/100

Aniara (2018)

Directed by Pella Kågerman & Hugo Lilja. Starring Emelie Johnson, Bianca Cruzeiro, Arvin Kananian, Anneli Martini, Jamil Drissi, Jennie Silfverhjelm, Emma Broomé, Dakota Trancher Williams. [R]

A spaceship transporting passengers from the ruined Earth to a settlement on Mars finds itself drifting off course after an emergency maneuver. With natural air and food generated by algae farms (not to mention a curiously inexhaustible supply of alcohol?), they should be able to survive just fine in a sheltered community, but then there’s the psychological factor… Bleak, intriguing science fiction story soaks in its own languorous existentialism, keeping the audience at an arm’s length from the (mostly) weakly-developed characters. Has a number of clever ideas—an AI computer becoming suicidally depressed after absorbing all the despair of its human users—but never fully congeals into a remarkable whole. Based on a poem of the same name by Harry Martinson; that title means “despairing” or “sad” in Greek, so you should have an idea of what you’re in for.

60/100

Avengers: Infinity War (2018)

Directed by Anthony & Joe Russo. Starring Josh Brolin, Robert Downey Jr., Zoe Saldaña, Chris Hemsworth, Chris Pratt, Benedict Cumberbatch, Mark Ruffalo, Paul Bettany, Chris Evans, Tom Holland, Elizabeth Olsen, Scarlett Johannson, Dave Bautista, Pom Klementieff, (voice) Bradley Cooper. [PG-13]

The first half of the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s grand smackdown finds cosmic supervillain Thanos (Brolin) collecting infinity stones to give himself the ultimate power to wipe out half of the intelligent life in the universe. Depicts the efforts of some fifty or more characters across several storylines in both outer space and on Earth, this exhausting “event movie” is so relentless yet dramatically diffuse that it’s difficult to engage with anything besides individual moments: a snappy quip here, a brief break from the fever pitch for reflection there. Requiring the absorption of about a dozen-and-a-half prior movies to be able to clearly follow what’s happening, the effort lacks proper isolation, resulting in what feels like an incomplete film (and experience); it even opens in media res and ends on a cliffhanger. Despite two-and-a-half hours of action, most of the cast have only a few minutes of screen time to leave a mark (even major players from previous films, like Chadwick Boseman and Don Cheadle, aren’t given much more than glorified cameos), but Brolin does manage to create a formidable yet conflicted—even humanized—enemy, which only makes his decisions more startling to behold. Has all the fingerprints of filmmaking-by-committee, but it should still satisfy most fans to at least some degree.

60/100

Ralph Breaks the Internet (2018)

Directed by Rich Moore & Phil Johnston. Starring (voices) John C. Reilly, Sarah Silverman, Taraji P. Henson, Gal Gadot, Bill Hader, Jack McBrayer, Jane Lynch, Alan Tudyk, Sean Giambrone, Phil Johnston. [PG]

Wreck-It Ralph sequel switches focus from video games to the worldwide web as Ralph and Vanellope visit the arcade’s new Wi-Fi router to buy a replacement part on eBay in order to save Sugar Rush. Lacking the funds to pay for their winning bid, Ralph becomes a viral video sensation (where “likes” translate into cash?), yet Vanellope is starting to think she’d rather be a part of a new cutting-edge racing game instead of returning to her candy-coated haunt. The shiny visuals, busy palette, and irreverent humor are all back, but the change in scenery is no more than surface deep, and staleness starts to creep in. With Ralph and Vanellope’s friendship already locked in at the beginning, and no substantial antagonist to defeat (Ralph’s greatest foe, as it turns out, is himself—or, more specifically, his insecurities), the story happens to the viewer rather than inviting participation, and there aren’t enough good gags or set pieces to excuse the overlength—as of 2023, only Fantasia is longer among the sixty-plus Disney animated features. The biggest problem is the choice of subject matter, since not only are the satirical jabs aimed at the internet old hat (annoying pop-up ads, “presumptive” search engines, references to flash-in-the-pan pop culture trends, etc.), but they’re also instantly dated because fads fly through the information superhighway at light speed. The positive message and a handful of clever bits make it an okay viewing, but if Ralph’s not careful, he’s gonna end up breaking something far worse than the internet—a third trip to the well would be ill-advised. Bill Hader went unbilled; voice cameos include a few returning characters (e.g., Ed O’Neill as the arcade operator) and several new ones (e.g., Alfred Molina as a dark web denizen), plus nearly all of the original voices of the “Disney Princesses”.

60/100

Sicario: Day of the Soldado (2018)

Directed by Stefano Sollima. Starring Benicio del Toro, Josh Brolin, Catherine Keener, Matthew Modine, Isabela Moner, Jeffrey Donovan, Manuel Garcia-Rulfo, Elijah Rodriguez, Shea Whigham

Sequel drops its central—and most compelling—character (Kate Macer, played by Emily Blunt) to focus on the continued exploits of aggressive intelligence officer Brolin and black-ops assassin del Toro in their war against the drug cartels south of the border. This time, Brolin is tasked with starting a war within the enemies’ ranks to make it easier to combat them, so he gives del Toro’s hardened professional carte blanche to start a ruckus, which includes kidnapping the daughter (Moner) of one of the kingpins. More action-packed than its predecessor, guided by macho posturing and less political grey area (the Mexican stereotyping runs pretty rampant), where characters often operate as chest-beaters who simply want to come out on top—and look cool doing it—regardless of motivation or consequence. If the film was more thoughtful about this behavior, it might have worked, but its concerns wander elsewhere and it winds up little more than a well-crafted exercise in violence and nihilism. The far-fetched “surprise” that follows a late-night confrontation toward the end spoils what could have been a jarring plot development, and throws everything into the gleeful unrealism of superhero movies and John Wick.

60/100

Suspiria (2018)

Directed by Luca Guadagnino. Starring Dakota Johnson, Tilda Swinton, Mia Goth, Ingrid Caven, Angela Winkler, Sylvie Testud, Elena Fokina, Renée Soutendijk, Chloë Grace Moretz, Christine LeBoutte, Fabrizia Sacchi, Jessica Harper, Malgosia Bela. [R]

Strange, alienating reimagining of Dario Argento’s horrific magnum opus, less a swirling and garishly-hued nightmare than a conceptual abstraction of psychosexual mistrust and fear. As in the original, an American ballerina (Johnson) travels abroad to join a renowned dance academy that conceals dark, appalling secrets. Its arthouse ambitions only tighten the seams of its poisoned, puzzled heart, but Guadagnino and writer David Kajganich fail to resolve the thematic indulgences of its threads of personal, political, and cerebral upheaval; its central shortcoming is how cold and bloodless it feels as a whole, resulting in a periodically draggy pace for an already overlong film. There are startling sequences of body horror, a couple of astounding performances (which includes Swinton in a triple role, one of them “secretly” performing as a male doctor where she went credited as an actor named “Lutz Ebersdorf”), and a repulsively perverse texture that should cause even hardened genre fans to feel the itch to recoil, but its bound to infuriate most of the original film’s most faithful adherents because of its long, slow sojourns into the likes of Holocaust guilt and women’s empowerment panic. Often visually astonishing, with Thom Yorke’s hypnotic score as an unsettling complement; the over-the-top Lovecraftian finale is bound to be just as polarizing as the rest of the film as a whole. Harper, who has a small supporting role, played the lead role in the original.

60/100

The Mule (2018)

Directed by Clint Eastwood. Starring Clint Eastwood, Bradley Cooper, Dianne Wiest, Michael Peña, Laurence Fishburne, Ignacio Serricchio, Andy Garcia, Eugene Cordero, Taissa Farmiga, Loren Dean, Alison Eastwood, Lobo Sebastian, Robert Lasardo, Manny Montana. [R]

Cash-strapped octogenarian horticulturist Eastwood becomes an astonishingly prolific drug mule for a Mexican drug cartel; Cooper and Peña are the DEA agents closing in on him. Would be staggeringly implausible if not for the fact that the premise is based on a true story (truth is stranger than fiction, after all), but an abundance of dramatic license leaves a fair share of holes and contrivances in its wake. Eastwood gives a typically solid performance (and his smooth, efficient direction works for the material), but his character is never completely persuasive, and is too naïve and/or stupid at specific points for the convenience of the plot machinations—example: how could he possibly be shocked when he discovers he’s been transporting drugs all along after completing multiple runs? His pursuers have minimal character depth (and “dogged” is not how one would describe them), making the entire parallel narrative flimsy and unnecessary. Wiest is underused but still effective as Eastwood’s ex-wife; the entire sub-plot with his estranged family (surely included to humanize the ol’ codger) could have used deeper exploration and fewer clichés. Despite the shortcomings, Eastwood’s confident hand at crafting engrossing drama is still evident, even while bulldozing past moral dilemma, and he makes the movie stubbornly watchable.

59/100

Searching (2018)

Directed by Aneesh Chaganty. Starring John Cho, Debra Messing, Michelle La, Joseph Lee, Sara Sohn. [PG-13]

Unusual, gimmicky mystery thriller takes place almost exclusively on the screens of computers and cell phones, detailing the efforts of a distraught father (Cho) trying to find his missing daughter (La). The visuals are distracting at first, but as the story becomes more absorbing, they’re easy to (almost) forgive and forget—there’s just no sensible reason to present the narrative in these terms aside from technological commentary. Full of dead ends and red herrings, the sinuous suspense and Cho’s credible central performance grab the viewer’s attention and won’t let go; those efforts are undermined, however, by a late twist so labored and unlikely that the film never recovers, souring the whole experience. From a technical and organizational standpoint, a rare tour de force that should never be attempted again.

59/100

Thank You for Your Service (2017)

Directed by Jason Hall. Staring Miles Teller, Beulah Koale, Haley Bennett, Scott Haze, Joe Cole, Omar Dorsey, Keisha Castle-Hughes, Erin Darke, Amy Schumer, Brad Beyer. [R]

Serviceable service drama has through-the-roof good intentions, but writer/director Hall, working from a non-fiction book by David Finkel, is unable to carve out any new territory in what is now a well-worn (if still harrowing and relevant) subject. Soldiers returning from the war in Iraq exhibit troubling signs of PTSD as they try—and often fail—to readjust to civilian life; Teller is haunted by casualties he feels responsible for, Koale descends into drug use and crime, Cole feels betrayed and adrift after discovering that his fiancée has abandoned him, etc. Contrivances mar the pic’s determined stabs at authenticity, with the usual “big” soul-baring encounters of shared grief hitting their dramatic moments with muted emotional impact, but no matter how much it feels like a rerun of a dozen other distressing studies of soldiers abandoned to their physical and psychological trauma back on their home turf, it’s still an intimately-observed account of veterans in a voiceless void. Song played over the end credits (“Freedom Cadence”) was contributed by Bruce Springsteen.

59/100

Alpha (2018)

Directed by Albert Hughes. Starring Kodi Smit-Mcphee, Jóhannes Haukur Jóhannesson, Natassia Malthe, Jens Hultén, Leonor Varela. [PG-13]

The callow son (Smit-McPhee) of a Stone Age hunter gets left for dead by his tribe after he falls off a cliff onto an unreachable ledge, but the determined young man makes his way down and begins an odyssey to return home, where he gradually befriends a wounded wolf that becomes his companion for the journey. A strikingly designed and photographed adventure with only the flimsiest thread of a story; it’s hard to dislike a boy-and-his-dog story, but the suspension of disbelief needed to accept the “domestication” of the wild predator is awfully demanding. Never rousing, and rooting interest in the human hero is by unearned default, but it’s a passable wilderness tale unburdened by ambitions beyond basic but scant deep-rooted pleasures. First directorial effort for Albert Hughes without his twin brother, Allen.

58/100

The House with a Clock in Its Walls (2018)

Directed by Eli Roth. Starring Owen Vaccaro, Jack Black, Cate Blanchett, Sunny Sujlic, Kyle MacLachlan, Renée Elise Goldsberry, Lorenza Izzo, Vanessa Anne Williams. [PG]

A considerable change of pace for gorehound director Eli Roth, this family-friendly fantasy-horror tale, based on a juvenile book series dating back to the 1970s by John Bellairs, has only some of the right pieces, and the missing ones make all the difference. Formula setup finds an orphaned boy (Vaccaro) going to live with his eccentric uncle (Black) in a weird house, and proceeding to discover the uncle is a warlock (“nice”, but not “good”), the uncle’s affable neighbor and best pal (Blanchett) is a witch, and the two of them have long been trying to find a magical clock of mysterious purpose hidden away somewhere in the house. Black and Blanchett are game, although neither is used quite to their strengths, and the story stays fairly busy most of the time, but too much information is provided without interest and too much additional detail is left out. For instance, there needs to be a lot more given about a no-good husband/warlock-and-wife/witch pair—the story’s second-rate antagonists—to really get invested in the conflict and stakes, and just when the kid starts getting taught about magic, the movie just sort of abandons his training to keep hitting the standard story beats at regular intervals and get everyone home in about a hundred minutes. Could have been a fun romp in the youth-oriented magical-fantasy traditions of the big-screen Lemony Snicket adventure or the Harry Potter movies or their ilk, but winds up being a mixed bag…like that Lemony Snicket adventure or the best of the Harry Potter movies or their ilk. Adaptation by Eric Kripke, who also co-produced.

58/100

Kursk (2018)

Directed by Thomas Vinterberg. Starring Matthias Schoenaerts, Léa Seydoux, Colin Firth, Peter Simonischek, Magnus Millang, Max von Sydow, Matthias Schweighöfer, August Diehl, Pernilla August, Helene Reingaard Neumann, Peter Plaugborg, Pit Bukowski, Joel Basman. [PG-13]

Glum, based-on-truth story of the Kursk disaster, which occurred when a torpedo exploded aboard a Russian nuclear submarine in the Barents Sea, and the survivors were stuck on the sea floor waiting for a rescue operation. The grueling bits aboard the sunken sub are offset by scenes on dry land where Russian administrators mislead the public and leaders refuse assistance from British and Norwegian vessels, which wind up becoming the more compelling part of the story—the cramped, poorly-lit confines of an immobile submarine don’t offer many opportunities for visual invention, after all, and depicting a mostly anonymous crew trapped in relentlessly harrowing conditions causes the emotions to turn static. A tense sequence of Olympic swimmer-level breath control in submerged compartments of the sub is effective, but it’s the human interest stories that would have benefited from more oxygen. Final film performance from von Sydow released during his lifetime; Michael Nykvist also filmed scenes shortly before his death, but they were cut from the final film. Issued in the U.S. in 2019 under the more nondescript title, The Command.

58/100

Raazi (2018)

Directed by Meghna Gulzar. Starring Alia Bhatt, Vicky Kaushal, Jaideep Ahlawat, Shishir Sharma, Rajit Kapur, Amruta Khanvilkar, Soni Razdan, Ashwath Bhatt.

Overlong Hindi spy melodrama inspired by the based-in-truth story of a young female intelligence agent in India named Sehmat (Bhatt), placed into an arranged marriage with the son of a Pakistan Army officer so that she can relay information about the foreign nation’s military plans. Bhatt repeatedly lurches from phlegmatic to histrionic and back again, which doesn’t make for an especially convincing (or sympathetic) spy—she cries more than a packed house watching Old Yeller for the first time—and the jingoistic touches are overkill, but at least it’s a fresh spin on the cookie-cutter espionage thriller model, willing to sacrifice tautness and special effects for emotional stakes. The star’s sobbing is counterbalanced by a more complex portrayal from Kaushal as the husband she betrays, and the gravitas of Ahlawat as her handler/mentor, no matter the tacky dialogue he’s forced to periodically spout. The incessant music cues are a distracting irritant, although fans of that sort of music may disagree. Adapted from Harinder Sikka’s historical novel, “Calling Sehmat.”

58/100

Beautiful Boy (2018)

Directed by Felix van Groeningen. Starring Steve Carell, Timothée Chalamet, Maura Tierney, Amy Ryan, Kaitlyn Dever, Timothy Hutton, LisaGay Hamilton. [R]

Chronicle of coping with addiction over the long haul, as young Nic Sheff’s (Chalamet) drug habit sees him spiraling out of control, in and out of rehab for years without ever truly recovering, and his despondent family feels powerless to help him. It’s not very difficult to make this all-too-real (and common) situation harrowing and dramatically potent, and the actors do excellent work across the board in making it physically and emotionally believable—another showcase for Carell’s heavier acting chops as father David, and a successfully grueling and moving effort from young Chalamet—but the film’s focus on the family side keeps us at an observational distance to the young man’s ordeal and sickness, and the circular storytelling patterns only partially mimic the cycle of relapse, a technique that falls apart anyway since the film is broken up by brief flashbacks to the kid’s youth (not for insight into the path toward experimentation and addiction, but mostly so that David can reminisce about better days). Being based on two separate memoirs—one written by the father, the other by the son—makes one hard-pressed to criticize the inclusion of certain scenes/episodes because they feel phony, forced, or unnecessary but may very well have happened (e.g., David deciding to experiment with hard drugs himself, a low-octane “car chase,” etc.), but then again, it’s the filmmakers’ task to decide what best serves the reality of the story being told and message behind it, regardless of veracity. On the other hand, it’s not the filmmakers’ fault that the dramatic suspense is diminished by the knowledge that Nic would survive and one day pen a memoir. Director van Groeningen adapted the script with Luke Davies. Stay tuned through the credits to hear a monologue from Chalamet reciting a Charles Bukowski poem.

57/100

Black Panther (2018)

Directed by Ryan Coogler. Starring Chadwick Boseman, Lupita Nyong’o, Michael B. Jordan, Letitia Wright, Danai Gurira, Martin Freeman, Angela Bassett, Daniel Kaluuya, Forest Whitaker, Andy Serkis, Winston Duke, Sterling K. Brown, John Kani, Denzel Whitaker. [PG-13]

T’Challa/Black Panther (Boseman), heir to the throne of the camouflaged African kingdom of Wakanda, assumes the mantle of power after his father’s passing (as seen in 2016’s Captain America: Civil War), but must soon contend with a vengeful challenger (Jordan) who intends to use Wakanda’s unrevealed might to conquer the oppressors of the world. A vibrant, syncretic vision and celebration of Afrocentrism/Afrofuturism make this chapter of the MCU franchise a bold and inspiring effort, but the results don’t always answer the call of its ambitions. Director Coogler’s confused action staging and low-watt thrills combined with grievous storytelling flaws (none more so than its muddled isolationist debate) and absurd gimmicks (like the all-purpose “magic” metal that is Vibranium) deliver a middle-road franchise entry in spite of its achievements in other departments. Among those are a handful of good performances (including Boseman, who sacrifices charisma for nuance), the stimulating makeup and wardrobe design, and Ludwig Göransson’s arresting score (the latter two, along with the production design, were given Academy Awards). The visual effects, however, are of surprisingly shoddy quality, most clearly demonstrated by the phoniest-looking skirmish in the MCU since the climax of The Incredible Hulk. The first superhero film to ever get a Best Picture Oscar nomination…even though it wasn’t even one of the five best examples of the sub-genre from 2018! Forest and Denzel Whitaker play older/younger versions of the same character, but the two actors are not related.

57/100

The Front Runner (2018)

Directed by Jason Reitman. Starring Hugh Jackman, Vera Farmiga, J. K. Simmons, Mamoudou Athie, Chris Coy, Alfred Molina, Steve Zissis, Bill Burr, Sara Paxton, Molly Ephraim, Josh Brener, Kevin Pollak, Kaitlyn Dever, Oliver Cooper, Tommy Dewey, John Bedford Lloyd. [R]

In 1988, Democractic presidential candidate Gary Hart (Jackman) was the unquestionable front runner for the nomination until an extramarital sex scandal abruptly ended his campaign in a matter of weeks; does the personal life and flawed character of a politician truly affect their occupational integrity, and is the media unfair in chasing scandal and gossip over more meaningful attributes of their political platform? Film presents a dramatized record of events, but lacks a clear attitude or perspective to really dig into the tabloid-style reporting issues and moral dilemmas it raises (not to mention transformational politics in general)—there’s more scathing insight in the average episode of “Veep.” Despite Jackman’s best efforts, he’s miscast as the charismatic, glossily-coiffed candidate; the supporting cast is littered with a mix of seasoned character actors, relative unknowns, and recognizable favorites, some of whom are given small moments to shine, but many go underused. Doesn’t squander its potential the way that the Hart campaign crashed and burned, but still rarely presents material more compelling than your average “ripped from the headlines” exposé.

57/100

The House That Jack Built (2018)

Directed by Lars von Trier. Starring Matt Dillon, Bruno Ganz, Riley Keough, Uma Thurman, Siobhan Fallon Hogan, Jeremy Davies, Sofie Gråbøl. [R]

Disturbing serial killer drama from controversial director Lars von Trier; familiarity with his output should prepare you for what’s in store. Dillon plays the titular psychopath as a volatile, obsessive-compulsive creep, lacking empathy but not detachment, and it’s certainly a bravura piece of unsettling acting. Unfortunately that performance is at the center of an overlong (2.5+ hours), deeply unpleasant film-going experience, one that mistakes provocation with statement too often not to be dramatically uneven. Despite the gruesome murder and mutilation on display (including a brief scene that will make bird lovers wail in horror), the most difficult thing to endure here are the bits of pretentious navel-gazing during off-screen “narration-style” philosophical discussions of life and art between Dillon and Ganz, who plays the Roman poet Virgil (he’s called “Verge” through most of the film, but a remark about “Aeneid” around the midway point is a glaring enough clue that we’re headed for some Dante’s “Divine Comedy” applesauce in the epilogue). Excluding that epilogue, the film is broken up into five chapters (or “incidents) detailing past killings, mostly involving women, “stupid,” as he calls them, and all but one unnamed; it’s perhaps telling that von Trier provides them such limited human qualities so that they represent innocent flesh more than substantive character. Difficult to recommend, even if you don’t mind the sensation of your skin crawling and stomach turning, but even more difficult to dismiss entirely.

56/100

Shadow (2018)

Directed by Zhang Yimou. Starring Deng Chao, Zheng Kai, Sun Li, Wang Qianyuan, Guan Xiaotong, Hu Jun, Wu Lei, Wang Jingchun.

Director Zhang’s first wuxia epic in over a decade is visually striking, but rates as a disappointment. In an attempt to retake a city lost to a rival kingdom, Deng’s military commander has been secretly training a lookalike “shadow” (also played by Deng) to accomplish this goal. Aside from the flesh tones of the characters’ skin, all color has been banished from the martial arts melodrama; costumes, sets, weapons, etc. are depicted in various shades of grey, with frequent rain-saturation giving the trappings an ink-like gloss. This technique makes the action sequences look dazzling, but does no favors for the sluggish narrative in the first half (the color of lead is appropriate, though…). The fight scenes are often shown in slow motion—eye-filling but repetitive—and the use of unusual “bladed umbrella” weapons turns at least one battle scene into a unique spectacle. Unfortunately, the story and character relationships inspire incurious levels of involvement that sap away quickly, rendering said spectacles into weightless feasts for the eyes, and the lengthy, cumbersome final scene is too overwhelmed by dreary stabbings and gurgling blood to rally interest in the outcome. Certainly a case of style over substance, and the style barely wins out. Screened almost simultaneously at both the Venice International Film Festival and the Toronto International Film Festival.

55/100

Duck Butter (2018)

Directed by Miguel Arteta. Starring Alia Shawkat, Laia Costa, Mae Whitman, Angelina Llongueras, Kate Berlant, Hong Chau.

Shortly after meeting and sleeping together for the first time, a struggling actress (Shawkat) and an enigmatic young woman (Costa) decide on a whim to spend 24 hours together to cut through all the awkward “growing pains” of a relationship and achieve rapid-fire intimacy, understanding, and sexual compatibility. How could this possibly go ~~wrong~~ right? Director Arteta developed the schematic story idea with co-writer Shawkat, and credit is due their decision not to turn it into a soul-exposing, twee-yet-frank romance where the two “rookie lovers” go through their up and downs but emerge triumphant in their discovery of potential soulmates. Yet for all of the movie’s raw immediacy and its swooshes of genuine character detail and expression, it’s a hard film to embrace for the emotionally-stunted inscrutability on display, and its sense of spontaneity not as an authentic theme but as a reflection of uncertainty on behalf of the filmmakers—it feels like an acting workshop exercise or one-act theatrical experiment, not a snapshot of real life. You may be wondering what the title means, but you also may not want to know. Among several filmmakers and actors playing themselves in brief appearances, Kumail Nanjiani is weirdly credited as “Jake,” even though he’s correctly called “Kumail” onscreen.

53/100

On the Basis of Sex (2018)

Directed by Mimi Leder. Starring Felicity Jones, Armie Hammer, Justin Theroux, Sam Waterston, Stephen Root, Cailee Spaeny, Kathy Bates, Ronald Guttman, Chris Mulkey, Jack Reynor, Gary Werntz, Francis X. McCarthy, Ben Carlson. [PG-13]

Adequate but unexceptional biography of law grad—and future Supreme Court Justice—Ruth Bader Ginsburg (Jones), who overcomes sexist conventions in her industry and handles a groundbreaking case of gender discrimination with the ACLU, arguing in front of the Court of Appeals alongside her husband (Hammer), an expert on tax law. There’s no faulting the film’s intentions or (sadly) its relevance, but the script rarely meanders from the connect-the-clichés program, and is reverent to the point of hagiography. Though there isn’t much on the page to fully bring their characters to life, Jones and Hammer both give solid portrayals. The workmanlike production avoids most of the easy pitfalls to keep on the steady and undisturbed path, aside from an artless scene with Ruth and daughter Jane (Spaeny) as they are hailing a cab—“Look at you, Jane…you’re a liberated, fearless young woman!” In the absence of a full-blooded treatment that finds passion for its argument for equality under law, this is a case of “good enough,” but RBG deserved better. Scripted by Daniel Stiepleman, who is Ginsubrg’s nephew; the real Ginsburg appears as herself at the end.

53/100

Aquaman (2018)

Directed by James Wan. Starring Jason Momoa, Amber Heard, Patrick Wilson, Willem Dafoe, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, Dolph Lundgren, Nicole Kidman, Temuera Morrison, Michael Beach, Graham McTavish, Randall Park, Ludi Lin. [PG-13]

The waters get choppy early and often in this big-budget, bigger-spectacled film that focuses on a superhero so often ridiculed that he was the subject of a satire on Hollywood excess in the television show “Entourage.” That hero is Aquaman, a half-human descendant of the people of Atlantis with superhuman strength and resilience, the swimming prowess to make Michael Phelps look like Digger Phelps, an impressive array of tattoos and saltwater-saturated locks of hair, and the ability to communicate with and control the fishies. As it was when Marvel brought Thor to the big screen, the grandiose and overly self-serious mythology and world-building can very easily teeter into the realm of the bewildering, the boring, or the laughable, but when the movie just focuses on having fun, it usually works. Though the big action set pieces (including a destructive chase just above and below the rooftops of Sicily and an epic climactic battle involving armies of giant crustaceans and sharks, a kaiju-esque leviathan, and more) never quite elevate the pulse—they’re too busy and chaotic for that—they are certainly eye-filling, and at least they do a good job of staving off the solemnity for a spell. The production design is impressive (though a little more physical and a little less digital would have been preferable) and director Wan likes to paint in the corners with throwaway details; unfortunately, nothing can be done to make it not look absurd for humanoid characters to be having crisp conversations with each other underwater. Not bad as a thick slice of bioluminescent cheese, but the aquarium-on-steroids sights are what have resonance, not the one-note characters or confused plotting. Julie Andrews, Djimon Hounsou, and John Rhys-Davies lend their pipes to some of the underwater creatures.

52/100

Hotel Artemis (2018)

Directed by Drew Pearce. Starring Jodie Foster, Sterling K. Brown, Sofia Boutella, Charlie Day, Jenny Slate, Dave Bautista, Zachary Quinto, Jeff Goldblum, Brian Tyree Henry, Kenneth Choi. [R]

In the riot-plagued Los Angeles of the not-too-distant future, the Hotel Artemis serves as a hospital/hideout for criminals with a membership, run by the weary, no-nonsense Foster (in a typically strong performance). It’s pretty much all surface here, as any attempts to plumb character profiles or the intricacies of the strange but intriguing setting results in cliches or absurdities; the premise is ripe with possibilities but the messy results meander predictably and/or forgettably. Stylish but hollow, and driven by at least one too many far-too-convenient plot development, everything unrelated to the flashy style, the occasional amusing line, and Foster’s performance evaporates not long after each scene ends. Even a late appearance by Goldblum can’t save the picture, though he (like the rest of the supporting cast) does what he can with the underwritten role. Pearce, in his feature debut as director, shows promise, but hopefully he’ll have more substance and organization in his next outing.

52/100

Ophelia (2018)

Directed by Claire McCarthy. Starring Daisy Ridley, Naomi Watts, Clive Owen, George MacKay, Tom Felton, Devon Terrell, Daisy Head, Dominic Mafham, Sebastian De Souza. [PG-13]

Progressive spin on the Bard’s most famous work slots the indecisive Danish prince (MacKay) as a supporting player and retells the story through the eyes of Ophelia (Ridley), giving her not just prominence, but agency and wiles as well. Based on a YA novel from Lisa Klein, the language has been made plain and fruitless (and when characters pine for one another, borderline insipid). The novelty of seeing familiar characters and scenes in altered ornamentation maintains the pitch of curiosity throughout, but too little here brings a bold or fresh perspective to the material, just revisionism-via-empowerment. Ridley lends Ophelia a dignified pilot light to keep her stubborn resolve aflame even when the conceit fails her, but Owen seems utterly disinterested playing the most plebeian Claudius imaginable. Plodding nature aside, it is an intriguing twist to have Ophelia slyly faking the growing madness that her character is best known for; a few more contortions like that—without going so far afield of the original tale (the ending, anyone?)—might have made it a nifty little experiment.

52/100

Ocean’s 8 (2018)

Directed by Gary Ross. Starring Sandra Bullock, Cate Blanchett, Anne Hathaway, Sarah Paulson, Helena Bonham Carter, Awkwafina, Mindy Kaling, Rihanna, James Corden, Richard Armitage, Nathanya Alexander. [PG-13]

All-female sequel/spin-off in the Ocean’s series casts Bullock as the felonious sister of George Clooney’s character (who’s reportedly dead now—it’s suggested it may be a ruse, but the movie never confirms one way or the other). She’s been paroled and is eager to dive into another heist: swiping $150 million of diamonds off the neck of a flaky movie star (Hathaway). She and former partner-in-crime Blanchett enlist the aid of a routine grab-bag of criminals (fencer Paulson, pickpocket Awkwafina, etc.); the rest will, of course, fall into place. Sleek and lightweight caper doesn’t leave much of a lasting impression; the theft plot is needlessly convoluted (an obvious clue that not all is as it appears…), and one of the twists is especially weak—anyone who can count past seven can see it coming miles in advance, and the fact that some members of the crew were kept in the dark about it makes no sense. Mostly sage casting decisions, with Hathaway appearing to have a ball sending up shallow celebrities. Director Ross does his best to mimic the chic style that Steven Soderbergh brought to the last three pictures in the series, but mimicry is exactly what it feels like, and the panache is noticeably absent. A large number of celebrities (shallow or otherwise) cameo as themselves; Elliott Gould and Shaobo Qin from the earlier films also appear briefly.

51/100

Aterrados (2018)

Directed by Demián Rugna. Starring Maximiliano Ghione, Norberto Gonzalo, Elvira Onetto, George L. Lewis, Agustín Rittano, Demián Salomón, Natalia Señorales, Julieta Vallina.

A series of horrifying supernatural occurrences in a Buenos Aires neighborhood—a woman thrashed to death in a bathroom, the corpse of a recently-deceased child “returning home”, etc.—captures the attention of a trio of paranormal investigators in this structurally-experimental and ultimately-hollow fright flick. Writer/director Rugna demonstrates far more interest in manufacturing set-ups and payoffs for skin-crawling set pieces than in telling a compelling story, which just meanders among different creepy entities and incidents without a clear throughline or end goal. What do the “ghost watchers” hope to accomplish exactly; what do these seemingly malevolent spirits want; where does everything stand when the final jump scare is (literally) thrown at the audience? These questions and more remain vaguely misunderstood or entirely unknown, so if you’re just in it for the pulse-pounding scares, it’s an effective machine, but if you want emotional investment and satisfying story and/or character arcs, you’d best look elsewhere. Appeared at a few film festivals in 2017 before a commercial release in Argentina the following year. English title translation: “terrified”.

50/100

Crazy Rich Asians (2018)

Directed by John M. Chu. Starring Constance Wu, Henry Golding, Michelle Yeoh, Gemma Chan, Awkwafina, Chris Pang, Lisa Lu, Sonoya Mizuno, Nico Santos, Pierre Png, Jing Lusi, Ronny Chieng, Jimmy O. Yang, Remy Hii, Ken Jeong, Tan Kheng Hua, Koh Chieng Mun. [PG-13]

Chinese-American professor Wu is invited by boyfriend Golding to his best friend’s wedding in Singapore, and she’s finally getting the chance to meet his family…but she’s surprised to learn he comes from one of the wealthiest families in the country, and is a prized bachelor whose potential mate must pass certain litmus tests from his frosty, overbearing mother (Yeoh). It’s hard to tell what the goals of the filmmakers are here (or those of Kevin Kwan, who penned the book upon which the screenplay is based): to hammer home the “we’re not so different” theme by showing the exorbitantly rich in Singapore are just as superficial, sealed-off, and vulgar with their opulence as other cultures; or to show how “tiger mom” types in the privileged class have offspring who are treated (and traded) like members of royalty in archaic social structures; or to simply give the audience a lot of objectified eye candy and materialism-run-amok fantasies (à la “Sex and the City”, Pretty Woman, etc.). However it might be, stereotypes are reinforced instead of overturned, and although Wu makes for an amiable font of good-natured dignity to attract viewer sympathy, there are too many (barely) moving parts in the supporting cast where it’s easy to lose track of who is who, and is dating or married to whom, and is who’s cousin, and on and on (I confess I have no idea who Gemma Chan’s character shared a meaningful glance with during the mid-credits scene). If you’re looking for crazy richness among Asians in a package that feels like a three-way intersection among soap opera, fairy tale, and reality TV, you’ll get what you’re looking for, but I wanted more, especially at the end, which fizzled like a surrender instead of strutting like a triumph.

49/100

Super Troopers 2 (2018)

Directed by Jay Chandrasekhar. Starring Erik Stolhanske, Steve Lemme, Jay Chandrasekhar, Kevin Heffernan, Paul Soter, Brian Cox, Emmanuelle Chrisqui, Hayes MacArthur, Will Sasso, Tyler Labine, Rob Lowe, Marisa Coughlan, Paul Walter Hauser. [R]

Slipshod sequel to the cult comedy took long enough to arrive, and sadly, it wasn’t worth the wait. After a land survey discovers that a small chunk of Canadian land along the border actually belongs to the United States, the dopey “super troopers” are sent in to take over for the region’s Mountie unit. Leans heavily on good will and “reunion tour” joke references, which are mildly amusing at best, tiresome at worst; takes on the saturation comedy approach, which means that while there are some funny bits here and there, the overall affect is faintly numbing (no surprise, considering the usual glut of stoner-friendly humor, which is dominated by even larger collections of jokes about male genitalia and how “wacky” Canada is different from “normal” America). As Stolhanske’s character (still referred to as “the rookie” even though it’s been over fifteen years) incorrectly puts it: “I love it, it’s like we never left!” Like watching a rerun of an okay episode of a fairly good sitcom, it’s not uncomfortable, but seems kinda pointless. Funded in part by a very successful crowdsourcing campaign. Lynda Carter briefly reprises her role as the Vermont governor; other cameos include Seann William Scott, Bruce McCulloch, Jim Gaffigan, Clifton Collins Jr., Fred Savage, and more.

48/100

The Wind (2018)

Directed by Emma Tammi. Starring Caitlin Gerard, Julia Goldani Telles, Ashley Zukerman, Dylan McTee, Miles Anderson. [R]

Paranoid frontierswoman Gerard lives in extreme isolation with her husband Zukerman, fearing a sinister presence in the area, but then new neighbors (Telles, McTee) arrive and take up lodging in a distant cabin. Rather than calm her fears, though, she becomes even more unsettled, especially when Telles starts whispering about demons. Arty, austere folk horror film supplies the eerie aesthetic but not the reasons to care about the underdeveloped characters and situations; ultimately, it remains too enigmatic, with more chuckles than chills—the ominous goat stare is a real crack-up. Lyn Moncrief’s desolate photography deserves merit, as does the slow but tense build-up orchestrated by first-time director Tammi, but the script promises more than it can deliver. Encouraging but ultimately hollow.

48/100

Rampage (2018)

Directed by Brad Peyton. Starring Dwayne Johnson, Naomie Harris, Malin Åkerman, Jake Lacy, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, P. J. Byrne, Demetrius Grosse, Joe Manganiello, Breanne Hill, Jack Quaid, Marley Shelton. [PG-13]

A weaponized genetic-editing pathogen aboard a space station crashes to Earth, gets exposed to an albino gorilla, a wolf, and a crocodile, and mutates each of them into a massive, super-aggressive beast—ex-Special Forces primatologist Dwayne Johnson to the rescue! A big, dumb monster-masher that knows what it is…so why didn’t the filmmakers excise at least twenty minutes of the downtime between the scenes of mayhem? They should have started with the cartoonishly evil/immature corporate clichés played by Åkerman and Lacy, who bring nothing to the table aside from hibernation padding. Johnson does what he does best, Morgan chews a bit of scenery as a shifty agent for the “other government,” Harris is a wooden sidekick who is entirely unnecessary aside from advancing the ridiculous, razor-thin plot. The effects are good and the “money shot” moments deliver what the target audience wants, but the whole thing is too derivative and unevenly-paced to watch without a lot of fast-forwarding. Inspired by an arcade game franchise dating back to the mid-80s; the film in turn inspired a few new video game tie-ins, including one that was exclusive to Dave & Buster’s (which gets an enormously distracting bit of product placement here).

47/100

Stop-Loss (2018)

Directed by Kimberly Peirce. Starring Ryan Phillippe, Channing Tatum, Abbie Cornish, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Rob Brown, Victor Rasuk, Timothy Olyphant, Ciarán Hinds, Linda Emond. [R]

Story of Iraq War veterans returning from a tour of duty and struggling with displacement, PTSD, and other psychological effects of combat. For Staff Sergeant King (Phillippe), it only gets worse when he becomes a casualty of the military’s illegal “backdoor draft” known as the stop-loss policy—soldiers who have finished their tour of duty are forced to return to combat, and any refusal to cooperate is branded a criminal act of desertion. Dramatically sound but preachy; a modestly effective first half succumbs to melodrama, including a ham-fisted funeral scene that plays like bad theater. Curiously, the strongest scenes in this raw emotional journey of the veteran experience on the homefront are the harrowingly visceral ones set back in Iraq. The director’s intimate connection to the subject of the movie (her brother was a gung-ho soldier who grew disenchanted after his wartime experiences) should have inspired something more personal, but here’s a mediocre effort that gets lost in the slew of movies released around the same time tackling a lot of the same topics (Home of the Brave, In the Valley of Elah, Rendition, The Messenger, et al).

47/100

The Strangers: Prey at Night (2018)

Directed by Johannes Roberts. Starring Lewis Pullman, Bailee Madison, Martin Henderson, Christina Hendricks, Emma Bellomy, Damian Maffei, Lea Enslin. [R]

Sequel to the home-invasion thriller, The Strangers, brings back the same trio of masked maniacs (they of few words), descending on a nuclear family visiting relatives that were already dispatched in the prologue. Opens up the action to encompass an entire mobile home park (multiple trailers, vehicles, a swimming pool, etc.) and sets a relentless pace once things get going, but the trim and taut coldness of the original is absent, and the script embraces the clichés rather than avoid them. Generic encounters and characters behaving stupidly almost cry out for a parodic angle (utilizing several chintzy 80s pop tunes as a sort of ironic counterpoint to the ruthless violence comes close on that count), but it’s relatively well-made as these sorts of efforts go, and because these default heroes sometimes give as good as they get, there’s less of a nihilism hollowness—only the eye of the beholder can determine if that’s an advantage or detriment. Bryan Bertino, the writer/director of the first film, co-scripted this one with Ben Ketai.

47/100

The Girl in the Spider’s Web (2018)

Directed by Fede Álvarez. Claire Foy, Sverrir Gudnason, Lakeith Stanfield, Stephen Merchant, Sylvia Hoeks, Synnøve Macody Lund, Vicky Krieps, Cameron Britton, Claes Bang, Andreja Pejić. [R]

The further grimdark adventures of Lisbeth Salander (now played by Foy) is sort of a sequel, sort of a reboot, only sort of entertaining. Here, Lisbeth tracks a secretive, anarchic organization trying to get their hands on a dangerous program called “MacGuffin” (actually, “Firefall,” but, well…). Physical, well-mounted production with a solid performance from Foy (though she can’t quite compete with either Noomi Rapace or Rooney Mara); unfortunately, most of the intriguing, bristly edges of the protagonist have been sanded off, transforming her into a fairly generic action hero—there is (of course) a child in peril, and the airport scene feels lifted wholesale from a Jason Bourne picture. The unimaginative script also sets up a tangled, emotionally-brittle reunion for Lisbeth and Mikael Blomkvist (Gudnason), then all but ignores the relationship during the back end. Based on the way Lisbeth sits in her chair while doing her hacking schtick, if they end up doing another sequel/reboot, it better be called The Girl with the Terrible Posture.

46/100

Mary Queen of Scots (2018)

Directed by Josie Rourke. Starring Saoirse Ronan, Margot Robbie, Jack Lowden, David Tennant, Martin Compston, Guy Pearce, Joe Alwyn, Adrian Lester, Ismael Cruz Córdova, James McArdle, Gemma Chan, Brendan Coyle, Ian Hart. [R]

Unaffecting, slapdash dramatization of the life of Mary Stuart (a.k.a., Mary, Queen of Scots), played by Ronan with fierce conviction but very little dimension or refinement. Covers a lot of historical ground—and even more historical tropes—but too often reduces the tense conflict between Mary and cousin Queen Elizabeth I (Robbie) to the snotty soap operatics of reality TV. Because they’re less interesting than petty jealousies and sexual shenanigans, theological disputes are sidetracked, primarily shouldered by Church of Scotland founder John Knox (Tennant), whose support in the screenplay is both obtuse and heavy-handed; it’s a surprise he wasn’t granted a name tag and a clickable link for the viewer to learn more about him. The allegorical nature of the recitation could have used more punch and politesse, too impersonal to warrant investment, but tawdry enough to capture fleeting attention now and again. Robbie has some fine moments, but it’s not even close to an even-hander, and Elizabeth is mostly left to react now and then to what “camera hog” Mary is up to many miles away. Credits John Guy’s “Queen of Scots: The True Life of Mary Stuart” as the source material for the adaptation.

46/100

A Vigilante (2018)

Directed by Sarah Daggar-Nickson. Starring Olivia Wilde, Morgan Spector, Tonye Patano, Judy Marte, C. J. Wilson, Betsy Aidem. [R]

A raw, steely drama that tries to have it both ways and comes up short on both sides of the gulf. After fleeing her sadistic husband (Spector), emotionally-scarred Wilde devotes herself to helping women escape abusive relationships through vigilante tactics. Rather than focus on the psychology and behavior patterns of these situations, or commit to being a down-and-dirty violent thriller dishing out payback to “ordinary” scum of the Earth, writer/director Sarah Daggar-Nickson wavers to the point of frustration, attempting to elevate the genre without satisfying its core, visceral needs, and ultimately barely scratching the surface when it comes to exploring its cold, damaged heroine. The latter flaw is especially daunting because the viewer is always experiencing trauma and retribution from her perspective, and yet I felt little of the vindication the viewer is meant to savor. Wilde co-produced.

46/100

Red Sparrow (2018)

Directed by Francis Lawrence. Starring Jennifer Lawrence, Joel Edgerton, Matthias Schoenaerts, Jeremy Irons, Charlotte Rampling, Bill Camp, Thekla Reuten, Mary-Louise Parker, Joely Richardson, Ciarán Hinds, Sakina Jaffrey. [R]

After suffering a career-ending injury, Jennifer Lawrence’s ballerina is trained by Russian intelligence to become a Sparrow—an expert in seduction and manipulation (“sexpionage”). She’s assigned to ensnare a CIA agent (Nash) in order to expose a mole, but he believes he can convince her to defect. As expected, the twisty narrative is ripe with danger and double crosses and the like, and it’s all served chilled on ice. Trouble is, the protagonist is designed for empathy (she even has a sick mother of indistinct design), so the studied emotional remoteness counteracts involvement on the part of the viewer; it’s also not smart enough to coast as a brainy exercise in cinematic espionage. Inscrutability does no favors for Jennifer’s character, but the entire roster lacks depth, and can be sorted into one of two columns: someone to mechanically progress the plot or someone to be a cipher for our curiosity. Showing up in a few late scenes, Mary-Louise Parker comes close to turning the whole thing on its head, but she’s on such a different wavelength from everyone else, it’s like she wandered in from another movie (maybe a different secret agent thriller with the letters R, E, and D in the title?). Doesn’t work as mindless entertainment either since its harsh violence isn’t exciting, and its uninhibited sexual frankness isn’t erotic. Adapted from a novel written by a former CIA agent, Jason Matthews.

46/100

The Wife (2018)

Directed by Björn L. Runge. Starring Glenn Close, Jonathan Pryce, Christian Slater, Annie Starke, Harry Lloyd, Max Irons, Karin Franz Körlof, Elizabeth McGovern. [R]

“Please don’t paint me as a victim, I’m much more interesting than that,” says the wife of an acclaimed writer (Pryce) who’s about to be awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature. But is she? As played by Close, she’s understandably bitter about a secret the two of them have kept from everyone else, including their adult son—she’s the wizard “behind the curtain”, the one who actually wrote all of her husband’s books. And the veteran actor does what she can with the role, simmering in pinched near-silence about the lack of recognition and her husband’s myriad infidelities over the years, very human yet very matter-of-course. But Jane Anderson’s screenplay (adapted from a book by Meg Wolitzer) is obvious to the point of condescension, erasing all the suggestions and subtext in the earlygoing for the kind of hand-holding that insults the audience’s intelligence—Scripp’s National Bees have less spelling out. Plus, without the courage to confront these Bergman-for-Dummies issues realistically, the movie surrenders to a facile resolution that neatly sidesteps confrontational fallout. Annie Starke, who plays the younger version of “the wife” in flashbacks, is Close’s real-life daughter. Premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival the year before its release.

46/100

Adrift (2018)

Directed by Baltasar Kormákur. Starring Shailene Woodley, Sam Claflin, Jeffrey Thomas, Elizabeth Hawthorne. [PG-13]

A young couple, Tami (Woodley) and Richard (Claflin), agree to sail a yacht from Tahiti to California, but a hurricane flips and cripples the vessel, leaving Tami to keep the yacht afloat, search for Richard, and summon the resilience to survive long enough to be rescued. Competently-crafted survival yarn covers a lot of all-too-familiar territory; it’s one of those based-in-truth stories that’s either been reduced to clichés or verifies how real-life circumstances birthed those clichés in the first place. There’s a respectable showing from Woodley, but she only shines in her moments of dread and determination at sea, since Tami and Richard make for one of those attractive-but-banal pairings where you hope they’re enamored because you’re not. Structured as parallel courses—one starts with Tami arriving in Tahiti and meeting Richard and running up to the destructive storm, the other opens with Tami regaining consciousness on the broken boat and working to save herself and the lost Richard—toggling back and forth for ninety-something minutes. And as devastating as Hurricane Raymond was to the yacht, a “surprise reveal” gimmick toward the end is just as damaging to the integrity of the filmmakers’ trust toward the (manipulated) audience. The real Tami Oldham Ashcraft can be seen at the very end.

45/100

I Think We’re Alone Now (2018)

Directed by Reed Morano. Starring Peter Dinklage, Elle Fanning, Paul Giamatti, Charlotte Gainsbourg. [R]

Following a cataclysmic event that wiped out nearly all of mankind, loner Dinklage meticulously cleans up and takes care of the otherwise unoccupied small town he inhabits. The arrival of another survivor (Fanning), however, throws his sheltered order off-balance. Promising premise, but premise is all there is; the second act is predictably plotted on steady character arcs, and then everything spins out of control down the stretch with rushed and underwritten surprise developments. Mike Makowski’s script takes a tedious approach to themes of grief, isolation, loneliness, and community, and director Morano confuses dreary pauses and ashen photography for existential ruminating. Dinklage and Fanning work around the confines of the script to locate the logic behind the messiness of their characters, but emotional investment in their plight peters out instead of piling up. Premiered at Sundance, where it won a special jury prize for Excellence in Filmmaking. Dinklage and Makowski also co-produced.

45/100

The Meg (2018)

Directed by Jon Turteltaub. Starring Jason Statham, Li Bingbing, Rainn Wilson, Winston Chao, Cliff Curtis, Page Kennedy, Sophia Cai, Ruby Rose, Robert Taylor, Ólafur Darri Ólafsson, Jessica McNamee, Masi Oka. [PG-13]

What if oceanographers are wrong and there’s a region on Earth that goes deeper than the Mariana Trench? And what if when mankind explores it, they unleash an enormous prehistoric megalodon that immediately jumps to the top of the food chain and goes on a rampage? Well, that’s what this is, a big-budget B-movie only interested in delivering on expectations of cheap thrills and cheesy laughs. Unfortunately, it’s not “good” enough to be an effectively suspenseful monster movie or “bad” enough to be a full-bore extravaganza of mayhem, so it just wades somewhere in the middle, offering fleeting moments of goofy entertainment while frustrating the viewer with its inability to deliver the goods memorably or efficiently. With his deadpan scowl and deep masculine timbre, Jason Statham is the right fit for the material, but his fish-food castmates are a mixed bag—Li Bingbing, in particular, is astonishingly bad, and Page Kennedy is a walking (cheap) stereotype. Based on a book by Steve Alten (“Meg: A Novel of Deep Terror”). Followed by a sequel.

45/100

Girl (2018)

Directed by Lukas Dhont. Starring Victor Polster, Arieh Worthalter, Katelijne Damen, Valentijn Dhaenens, Olivar Bodart, Tijmen Govaerts. [R]

Distressed drama of transgender teen, Lara (Polster), adjusting to the early stages of her changing body—the physical recovery, effects of hormone therapy, etc.—while also suffering emotional and bodily damage from attending a high-pressure ballet school. Polster’s self-assured yet invariant performance carries the film (his casting came with some controversy), more concerned with technical detail than psychological truth; Lara’s story feels sketchy and incomplete, with too much focus on the physical toll that the transition has on her and her inability to cope with gender dysphoria—visceral trauma is more easily expressed and understood than emotional development during an already difficult time in most adolescent’s lives made more turbulent from a stressful procedure. If these moments had been treated with more depth and empathy, they might have given insight to a potentially fascinating character; as is, they’re used more for shock value (particularly a discreet but grisly scene of self-mutilation) that equates enduring agony as an under-represented representation of brave determination.

44/100

The Predator (2018)

Directed by Shane Black. Starring Boyd Holbrook, Olivia Munn, Sterling K. Brown, Trevante Rhodes, Keegan-Michael Key, Thomas Jane, Jacob Tremblay, Augusto Aguilera, Alfie Allen, Yvonne Strahovski, Jake Busey. [R]

Another entry in the Predator series, and weakest yet (no one should ever count the ones where they tango with the Alien xenomorph), featuring a rogue Army Ranger (Holbrook) teaming up with a group of legitimately loony Marines, plus his kid and a biologist, to fight off our favorite outer space game hunters. Fairly fast-paced, with enough yucks and yuks to appease less-discriminating fans of this kind of programmer. Not especially faithful to the spirit of the previous films—the first couple minutes look like they belong in an action scene from the Abrams Star Trek universe; the cloaking technology is used more often by the humans than the Predators; and until the last twenty minutes or so, nearly all of the aliens’ victims are nondescript nobodies. Contains the requisite number of in-jokes/references (the original music score makes a comeback, Busey plays the son of the character that his own father, Gary, played in the first sequel, etc.). Holbrook is the dullest main protagonist the series has yet produced; Brown and Key steal most of their scenes, though not always for good reasons. Tough to say what’s a harder pill to swallow: the autism-is-a-next-step-in-evolution sub-plot, or the epilogue’s groan-inducing setup for even more sequels.

44/100

Venom (2018)

Directed by Ruben Fleischer. Starring Tom Hardy, Michelle Williams, Riz Ahmed, Reid Scott, Jenny Slate, Scott Haze, Peggy Lu, Melora Walters. [PG-13]

Disappointingly unimaginative big screen treatment of one of Marvel’s more popular villains-turned-antiheroes. Spider-Man is nowhere to be found (or mentioned), but one of his chief antagonists comes to life through molten rubber CGI after disgraced investigative journalist Eddie Brock (Hardy) is infected by an alien symbiote while trying to dig up dirt on one-note evil genius Ahmed. The symbiote speaks to him telepathically while occasionally taking control of his body and turning him into a powerful being that enjoys chomping off heads and feeding on flesh—or so it’s implied, since the studio must have hard-lined that PG-13 rating. A rote origin story that takes too long to get going, and then once it does, it turns into a ho-hum comic book actioner that flits by without leaving any real impression. Hardy side-steps most of the generic action hero clichés, but it’s still an odd portrayal (like a parody of twitchy Method performances); Williams is wasted as the standard-issue estranged love interest who gets a little excited by the “new side” of her ex-beau’s persona. As in the other projects he’d helmed recently, director Fleischer continues to fall short of the stylish promise he demonstrated with his debut, Zombieland. Stan Lee cameos, as does Woody Harrelson in the mid-credits scene.

43/100

The Oath (2018)

Directed by Ike Barinholtz. Starring Ike Barinholtz, Tiffany Haddish, Jon Barinholtz, Nora Dunn, Carrie Brownstein, Chris Ellis, Meredith Hagner, John Cho, Billy Magnussen, Priah Ferguson, Jay Duplass. [R]

Dark political satire taking the time-honored tradition of uncomfortable conversations around the Thanksgiving table to the next level: the (fictional) U.S. President has “requested” loyal patriots to sign an oath of allegiance to the country while government agents fearlessly arrest vocal dissenters. The outspoken liberal (and news addict) played by Ike Barinholtz is appalled, but some of his holiday guests feel differently, so it doesn’t take long before the grandstanding begins, and then everything escalates out of control when a couple of G-men (Cho, Magnussen) show up because someone in the house called and reported him. Although intended to be an exaggeration on our partisan times, it’s actually on the timid side, and while it’s easy to recognize the truths beneath the stereotypes, they rest on the surface and offer next to nothing when it comes to detailed parallels to real life. Ultimately, it’s a one-trick pony with a confused outlook/agenda, an all-too-facile (and unbelievable) conclusion, and too much repetition along the way (I lost count of the number of variations on, “Can I speak to you outside/in the other room?” there were). Comedy troupe Boom Chicago alum Barinholtz’s feature directing debut; he also wrote and co-produced, and real-life brother, Jon, plays his onscreen sibling.

42/100

A Wrinkle in Time (2018)

Directed by Ava DuVernay. Starring Storm Reid, Levi Miller, Reese Witherspoon, Mindy Kaling, Oprah Winfrey, Chris Pine, Deric McCabe, Gugu Mbatha-Rawe, Zach Galifianakis, Michael Peña, Rowan Blanchard. [PG]

Overstuffed and erratically-plotted adaptation of Madeleine L’Engle’s popular children’s novel centered on a smart pre-teen girl (Reid) who is visited by a trio of astral travelers that show her how to transport herself across the universe to look for her long-missing father (Pine). Ambitious and well-meaning, but the filmmakers afford no time to fully grasp the premise and engage with the characters on any sort of meaningful level before the frenetic adventure through time and space begins. The opportunity to gain ground on the fly also fizzles because of an excessive amount of clunky jargon and fractured pacing that consistently quashes narrative and visual flow—it’s easy to root for the young heroine, but it’s a chore trying to care about what happens to her and why (at least indifference makes it easy to shrug off the plot holes). The sights can often be described as wondrous, yet nothing about their context inspires wonder. A much-appreciated stab at delivering an optimistic message of diversity and empowerment, but the bungled execution leaves nothing else worth remembering. The book was previously turned into a 2003 made-for-television movie by the same parent company (Disney).

42/100

The Commuter (2018)

Directed by Jaume Collet-Serra. Starring Liam Neeson, Patrick Wilson, Andy Nyman, Jonathan Banks, Vera Farmiga, Sam Neill, Shazad Latif, Roland Møller, Clara Lago, Colin McFarlane, Ella-Rae Smith, Adam Nagaitis, Killian Scott, Florence Pugh, Elizabeth McGovern, Dean-Charles Chapman. [PG-13]

Newly-fired insurance salesman Neeson, a regular commuter on the Hudson Line train, is riding the rails when he’s approached by an anonymous woman (Farmiga) who offers him a hefty cash payout with the simple task of identifying someone aboard the train who doesn’t belong there. The scenario is, of course, not on the level, but the money is too tempting, and soon he’s plunged into peril where not only his life, but the lives of his family and everyone aboard in the train, hangs in the balance. Yet another one of those high-concept thrillers where you have to accept the preposterous premise on its own terms, but the movie never pays off in a satisfying way and throws away its already dubious credibility far too early. The largely faceless and boilerplate enemy possesses an omniscience sometimes to rival the Almighty’s, and even with Neeson’s character’s background as an ex-cop, it’s hard not to laugh or roll the eyes when he’s called upon to do a few superhuman feats before all is said and done. Spoils its own surprises in part by introducing two characters you know are going to reappear later (why would Patrick Wilson and Sam Neill show up for small, meaningless roles at the beginning?), and after Neeson starts to figure out what’s really going on, the movie (literally) runs aground with absurdities in the second half. The train derailment scene is a hoot for unabashed fans of cartoonish mayhem and phony CGI, but nothing tops a scene that follows which rips off a key scene from Spartacus. Among the other passengers, stock characterizations the lot of them, is Florence Pugh in her first Hollywood film role. Kingsley Ben-Adir has a small part.

41/100

Hunter Killer (2018)

Directed by Donovan Marsh. Starring Gerard Butler, Gary Oldman, Michael Nyqvist, Common, Linda Cardellini, Toby Stephens, David Gyasi, Alexander Diachenko, Mikhail Gorevoy, Carter MacIntyre, Gabriel Chavarria, Zane Holtz. [R]

Instantly forgettable, by-the-numbers military actioner is a submarine thriller, Navy SEAL expedition, government coup drama, and war room chest-beater all rolled up into one. Butler is the new skipper aboard a nuclear sub that is drawn into a rescue mission on foreign soil after rogue Russian minister Gorevoy overthrows the powers that be; being that it’s Butler, of course, it’s a president he has to save (the Russian one, at any rate). Slick but second-rate on most technical levels, everything here is utterly featureless, right down to the direction, protagonist’s name (“Joe Glass”), and musical score, which sounds made up of clips from the soundtrack to TV show “24.” Echoes of The Hunt for Red October and Tom Clancy in general are surely intentional, but there’s no human interest in the form of a Jack Ryan-esque character to provide ballast to all the high-tech hardware, grave proclamations, and sluggish suspense. Based on the novel “Firing Point” by Don Keith and George Wallace.

41/100

Hot Summer Nights (2018)

Directed by Elijah Bynum. Starring Timothée Chalamet, Alex Roe, Maika Monroe, Maia Mitchell, Emory Cohen, Thomas Jane, William Fichtner, (voice) Shane Epstein Petrullo. [R]

It’s the summer of 1991, Terminator 2: Judgment Day is all the rage at the local drive-in, and assembly-line semi-awkward skinny teen Daniel Middleton (Chalamet) makes the acquaintance of bad boy delinquent Hunter (Roe) and together they start selling marijuana. In the span of only a few months, Daniel and Hunter become best buds, Daniel starts romancing the dude’s “unattainable hottie” of an estranged sister (Monroe), and he finds so much success moving pot that he decides to graduate to the next level and start buying/selling cocaine. Meanwhile, a young unseen narrator pipes in from time to time to speak in near-mythic terms about how legendary these events and people were to the Cape Cod misfits. Debuting writer/director Bynum brings a glossy, neon-nostalgia style to the proceedings, and sets the story spinning to an eclectic soundtrack mix that’s better than just a rote shuffle of late-80s/early-90s pop hits (most of them date back to the 60s and 70s), but what’s it trying to say? What is its vision of these characters and their lifestyle? What hasn’t been either lifted wholesale or cribbed by intent from any number of earlier coming-of-age, counterculture, drug, or crime movies? Plus, because of the predictable arc of fantasy-fulfilled highs leading to crashing new lows, the absence of details that create these incredible circumstances (how exactly did these two flunkies get so good at their criminal enterprise?) and the insanely compact time frame in which these incidents occur make it impossible to take anything seriously—if someone told you this stuff happened to some guy they knew, you’d call them a liar. Filmed in 2015, so Chalamet made this before shooting his breakthrough roles in Call Me by Your Name and Lady Bird.

40/100

Skyscraper (2018)

Directed by Rawson Marshall Thurber. Starring Dwayne Johnson, Chin Han, Roland Møller, Neve Campbell, Byron Mann, Pablo Schreiber, Noah Taylor, McKenna Roberts, Noah Cottrell, Tzi Ma, Hannah Quinlivan. [PG-13]

Shameless cross between Die Hard and The Towering Inferno sticks Johnson’s private security specialist into a super-duper Hong Kong skyscraper—taller even than the Burj Khalifa—while it’s on fire and under attack from a team of terrorists led by Møller. Why doesn’t he make like a tree and get outta there? Because his family is trapped in that thousand-meter state-of-the-art “chimney”, of course. The pieces are here for a little dumb excitement, but the experience is spoiled by too much unattractive lighting and unconvincing CGI; the hanging-on-by-the-fingernails sequences might have been legitimately suspenseful if they didn’t look so phony (the fourth Mission: Impossible movie raised the bar to an unfair level, what can I say?). It’s a brainless way to kill some time, so if you can believe that a man with a prosthetic leg can jump from a crane to a building ledge, you’ll be willing to overlook the fact that the only time anyone ever seems bothered by smoke inhalation is during one episode involving a kid with asthma. But couldn’t the hero have been given any kind of fresh spin besides the leg, and couldn’t a more memorable gang of baddies have been assembled? Writer/director Thurber co-produced with Johnson, among others.

40/100

Final Score (2018)

Directed by Scott Mann. Starring Dave Bautista, Ray Stevenson, Amit Shah, Lara Peake, Pierce Brosnan, Ralph Brown, Alexandra Dinu, Julian Cheung, Bill Fellows, Lucy Gaskell, Martyn Ford. [R]

In what is essentially a knockoff of a knockoff (Die Hard via Sudden Death), Bautista’s gruff, brooding ex-soldier with a soft spot for his deceased best friend’s teenage daughter (Peake) is forced to become a one-man army when Eastern European revolutionaries infiltrate and lock down a London football (soccer) stadium while he and the girl are attending a match. Pretty routine action aside from a ludicrous motorcycle chase through the stadium, and too many “oh, come on” moments spoil the low-rent fun—Bautista is about as unstoppable as the Terminator, and the filmmakers insult the audience’s intelligence by suggesting that plastic explosives can be detonated by shooting them with a bullet. Projects a grey, grubby appearance (presumably for the sake of tough, grim atmosphere), but the effect merely drains the events of color and clarity, mimicking the bored look on the face of Pierce “I’m Here for the Paycheck” Brosnan, whose underwritten character happens to be the reason why villainous Stevenson and his mercenary goons are at the stadium in the first place. Bautista also co-produced.

39/100

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (2018)

Directed by J. A. Bayona. Starring Chris Pratt, Bryce Dallas Howard, Rafe Spall, Isabella Sermon, Ted Levine, Justice Smith, Daniella Pineda, James Cromwell, Toby Jones, B. D. Wong, Geraldine Chaplin, Jeff Goldblum. [PG-13]

A few years after the events of Jurassic World, a team led by former park operations manager Howard returns to the now-abandoned Isla Nublar in a dinosaur rescue effort now that the island’s active volcano appears to be on the precipice of erupting. But that’s just the set-up for the second half of this dubiously-structured franchise entry, where a bunch of dinos—including a new genetically-tweaked super-predator called an “Indoraptor”—run amok in a mansion that had been hosting an elite auction of the prehistoric titans (think of it as a throwback to musty-castle horror pics). The basic elements and character types are all old-hat by now (nerdy technician, mercenary with a dark agenda, precocious child in peril, etc.), and the adjustments to the formula are typically laughable, not inspired (the Indoraptor behaves more like a maniacal stalker from a slasher flick than a, you know, wild animal). Succeeds more at inspiring sympathy for the dinosaurs than evoking terror, which might have been a novel new direction for the series to take, except that was clearly not the filmmakers’ main goal. The transition between the perfunctory, déjà vu island adventure and the upmarket fright night set-pieces is full of more holes than the dino DNA first extracted by John Hammond. Followed by Jurassic World: Dominion.

39/100

15:17 to Paris (2018)

Directed by Clint Eastwood. Starring Spencer Stone, Alek Skarlatos, Anthony Sadler, Judy Greer, Jenna Fischer, Thomas Lennon, Tony Hale. [R]

A remarkable true story becomes an unremarkable motion picture, one of director Eastwood’s most unfocused and pedestrian efforts to date. Lifelong friends Spencer Stone, Alek Skarlatos, and Anthony Sadler subduing a gunman aboard the titular train from Amsterdam to Paris makes for anxiety-inducing drama and a worthy profile of courage, but the bulk of the film treads water while telling fragments from the rest of their lives that stretch all the way back to their childhood, which simply aren’t very interesting or insightful (and are also overwhelmingly skewed in favor of showing Stone’s aspirations for life-saving military service). The other fatal flaw is the decision to have the three real-life individuals play themselves; they’re nonprofessional actors, and it shows, although to be fair to their profitless efforts, even the real actors flounder with screenwriter Dorothy Blyskal’s stone-faced melodrama and oversincere dialogue (see: Fisher’s airport sendoff, Greer’s “My god is bigger than your statistics!” etc.). A few brief segments of the terrorist attack reenactment are ineffectually parsed out across the first hour. Three other passengers aboard the fateful train ride (Mark and Isabelle Moogalian, Christopher Norman) also play themselves.

38/100

Death Wish (2018)

Directed by Eli Roth. Starring Bruce Willis, Vincent D’Onofrio, Dean Norris, Kimberly Elise, Camila Morrone, Beau Knapp, Elisabeth Shue, Kirby Bliss Blanton. [R]

Misconceived remake of the “classic” vigilante drama, with Willis stepping into Charles Bronson’s shoes as a man driven to extremes after his wife (Shue) and daughter (Morrone) are viciously attacked by thugs. The moral conflict so central to the original’s limited success is only given token recognition here, pausing periodically to address the issues and then immediately getting back to “delivering the goods,” revenge-style. Roth’s self-satisfied and crowd-pleasing efficiency is all wrong for the material, and after Willis gets to show off actual emoting for a scene or two, he switches back to his comfort zone of brooding anti-heroic menace. Joe Carnahan’s script even glances past a few opportunities for blackly comic satire, but proves too timid and complacent for that as well. Anyone who just wants to watch repulsive creeps get it good will find what they’re looking for here, but it’s been done better, smarter, and more satisfactorily elsewhere.

37/100

Superfly (2018)

Directed by Director X. Starring Trevor Jackson, Jason Mitchell, Lex Scott Davis, Esai Morales, Kaalan Walker, Big Bang Black, Jennifer Morrison, Michael K. Williams, Brian F. Durkin, Andrea Londo, Antwan “Big Boi” Patton, Jacob Ming-Trent, Allen Maldonado. [R]

Remake of the same-named blaxploitation heavy-hitter has been relocated from Harlem to Atlanta and given a fresh, shiny coat of paint, but its story of a drug pusher trying to go straight has turned into just another trope-heavy urban gang thriller. As “super fly” Youngblood Priest, Trevor Jackson evidently believes the formula for being imperturbably cool is to be rigid and unreactive, so the protagonist winds up being one of the least interesting characters in a movie full of character clichés. Director X (née Julien Christian Lutz) adds oodles of surface style, but it’s all color and polish, no substance or purpose. Ultimately, this hollow genre exercise does what some critics wrongfully accused the original movie of doing: glorify drug trafficking and the criminal lifestyle. Several hip hop tracks fill out the ATL-centric soundtrack, but the only tunes that leave their mark are a couple of reprises of Curtis Mayfield’s stone cold 1972 classics. Produced by Joel Silver and Nayvadius Cash, a.k.a. the rapper Future.

37/100

Book Club (2018)

Directed by Bill Holderman. Starring Diane Keaton, Mary Steenburgen, Jane Fonda, Candice Bergen, Andy García, Craig T. Nelson, Don Johnson, Richard Dreyfuss, Alicia Silverstone, Katie Aselton, Ed Begley Jr. [PG-13]

Four aging female friends in a book club are having issues with losing “that lovin’ feeling”—one is recently widowed, one is in a stale marriage, one has been in a lengthy rut after her divorce, and one is only interested in flings and one night stands. But after choosing “Fifty Shades of Grey” as the next book to read and discuss, they get a “wake-up call” to go for it with their romantic partners, new and old. A good cast trapped by a banal script; an innocuous four-pronged fantasy without the charm or laughs to just go with the flow. For better or worse, the details and impressions of the “Fifty Shades” books are all but forgotten during these seasoned gals’ escapades (seeing as how they’re all menopausal, it wouldn’t make much sense for Richard Dreyfuss to pluck out Candice Bergen’s tampon); in fact, so few seconds are devoted to the ladies enjoying their hobby, the book club plot device turns out to be just a lazy, half-forgotten contrivance. As for the glossy but mundane misadventures, you’ll probably need to drink more white wine than these gals do to get any pleasure out of them. Wallace Shawn makes a cameo appearance, as does a certain “author” who didn’t need the free publicity.

36/100

Vox Lux (2018)

Directed by Brady Corbet. Starring Natalie Portman, Raffey Cassidy, Jude Law, Jennifer Ehle, Stacy Martin, Micheál Richardson, Christopher Abbott, Meg Gibson, (voice) Willem Dafoe. [R]

A survivor of a shocking tragedy “goes viral” with a tribute song, and her fame provides her a budding music career that furthers the erosion of her innocence; almost two decades later, she’s become a self-destructive, alcohol-and-drug-dependent diva on the verge of a mental breakdown. Split into two halves, with Cassidy playing the protagonist, Celeste, as an ingenuous teenager, and Portman playing her as an exhausted adult, this is a movie that aims to be bold, provocative and controversial solely for the sake of being bold, provocative and controversial, with almost nothing new to say about pop star pressures and toxic celebrity worship. Teeming with nearly equal parts pretentiousness and contempt, its storytelling is as erratic as its subject, with narration (provided by Dafoe) intermittently spelling things out, including a revelation at the end that attempts to shock but comes off as phony, even juvenile. The most promising angle with the material as presented is the perspective of what it’s like for Celeste’s child (also played by Cassidy) to be raised under such strained circumstances, but she’s sidelined and voiceless most of the time. Portman gives it her all, but the characterization is more cartoonish than harrowing, and she chews too hard on an accent that Cassidy barely employed when essaying her younger self. Scott Walker composed the score, the singer-songwriter’s final completed work before his death; all of Celeste’s (intentionally?) insipid electronic pop songs were co-written by co-executive producer Sia Furler, better known as just “Sia.” Dedicated “in memory of Jonathan Demme.”

36/100

The Grinch (2018)

Directed by Yarrow Cheney & Scott Mosier. Starring (voices) Benedict Cumberbatch, Cameron Seely, Rashida Jones, Kenan Thompson, Angela Lansbury. [PG]

Latest attempt to adapt the classic Dr. Seuss book (and even more classic 1960s television special) for the big screen isn’t quite as repellent a disaster as the live-action atrocity starring Jim Carrey, but it’s in the same ill-conceived, unwanted ballpark. The expansions to the original text are inadequate—and no one would expect otherwise—but the pandering and altered spirit could have (and should have) been avoided. Benedict Cumberbatch is both barely recognizable and inconsistent in voicing the Grinch, as if he started some recording sessions trying to echo Carrey’s flamboyant mugging and other sessions trying to sound like the grounded opposite, but his “grinchiness” is too mild, his character design too polished and ordinary. On the latter count, so, too, do the residents of Whoville come off as indistinct in a roundly cartoonish sort of way; an improvement over the ghastly makeup jobs in the live-action version, but with the action being brightly animated again as in the TV staple, why settle on safe contours and inexpressive features? It ends up being just some anonymous product churned out by the Illumination factory—when the Grinch goes into town and “pranks” the Whoville citizens, he’s basically just Despicable Me’s Gru covered in green fur; Cindy-Lou goes from being a symbol of sweet innocence to an amalgam of the two younger girls Gru adopts; the dog Max would fit right in among the goofy canines from The Secret Life of Pets; and so on. Sanitized, lacquered, and pointless, no one would complain at all if the Grinch stole this thing on Christmas, or New Year’s, or any day of the week. Passing away a few weeks after its release, this was the final Dr. Seuss adaptation released during his widow’s (Audrey Geisel) lifetime; she served as one of the executive producers. Narrated by Pharrell Williams.

35/100

The Professor (2018)

Directed by Wayne Roberts. Starring Johnny Depp, Danny Huston, Rosemarie DeWitt, Zoey Deutch, Odessa Young, Ron Livingston, Matreya Scarrwener, Devon Terrell, Paloma Kwiatkowski. [R]

College professor Depp learns he has terminal cancer and decides to face his mortality with confrontational and hedonistic attitudes. Misguided attempt at pointed humor and revelatory pathos. Depp creates a plausibly unpleasant academic who treats his students poorly and his family even worse (his friend, Huston, gets off easiest, but even then, the relationship is hardly a smooth two-way street); rather than lean into it for acerbic or trenchant commentary, writer/director Roberts expects the audience to sympathize with the mopey protagonist solely because of his predicament. Depp even delivers a late-game Carpe-Diem-style speech (at a formal dinner instead of inside a classroom), strings whittling away on the soundtrack, all to very little effect. Huston and Deutch (as a friendly student) provide the only bright spots; Depp does manage a few moments of sad honesty and wry humor, but the character grasp simply isn’t there, and he has nowhere to go during the sappy, soppy concluding scenes—the final one strives for profundity but just leaves a single concerning thought: what’s going to happen to the dog??

35/100

Insidious: The Last Key (2018)

Directed by Adam Robitel. Starring Lin Shaye, Angus Sampson, Leigh Whannell, Caitlin Gerard, Kirk Acevedo, Spencer Locke, Josh Stewart, Ava Kolker, Tessa Ferrer, Hana Hayes, Bruce Davison, Pierce Pope. [PG-13]

Empathetic medium Elise Rainier takes a case that may as well come with a declaration of, “This time…it’s personal,” but the well has already run dry for this minor paranormal horror series. She and her colleagues head for her childhood home after the current occupant reports a haunting, giving her a chance to confront the demons of her past; she also confronts a literal demon from said past known as “Key-Face,” because, sure, it’s fun to laugh during a spook story. The “jump scares” are feeble, the atmosphere is middling, the plot is uninvolving, and the stop-restart structure is so ungainly, it’s hard to even figure out where the climax is supposed to be until it’s all over. Less time is spent delving into the particulars of the spirit world and demonic “motivations” than watching Elise’s cohorts clumsily hit on her young nieces, so there’s a sense that even writer Whannell is getting tired of the recycled material…although he’s credited as a co-producer for the first time in the franchise.

34/100

Bohemian Rhapsody (2018)

Directed by Bryan Singer & Dexter Fletcher. Starring Rami Malek, Lucy Boynton, Gwilym Lee, Ben Hardy, Joseph Mazello, Aidan Gillen, Allen Leech, Mike Myers. [PG-13]

Superficial (and largely artificial) biopic of rock band Queen from their early 70s roots in London up to their famous 1985 Live Aid charity performance. Focus falls heavily on frontman Freddie Mercury (Malek, in an Oscar-winning performance); so much so that Brian, Roger and John barely register anything that even remotely resembles individual personalities. Countless cornball moments along the way such as offering “origin stories” of big radio hits and Myers’ obnoxiously wink-wink anti-“Bohemian Rhapsody” routine, separated by cloying glimmers into Freddie’s personal life, with dialogue that no one in real life would ever speak and clumsy approaches to most of his important relationships, to say nothing for the wince-inducing, bordering-on-offensive surface examinations of his homosexuality. Don’t expect more than a little leather-clad texture, a handful of innuendos, and a clichéd declamation or two; the PG-13 rating keeps the usual rock star excess on the sidelines, but neutering Freddie’s sexual identity/conflict felt more like a (poor) choice on the part of the filmmakers and the awful script. Despite distracting dental prosthetics, Malek is sometimes credible but mostly carrtoonish in the lead role, and what few shining moments he has come when he’s performing on stage; the film itself only comes alive during those same concert moments, especially the Live Aid finale. Better, though, to skip the reproductions and all the connect-the-dots filler in between and just watch archival footage of the real deal. A band as driven and theatrical as Queen deserves better than this rote and absurdly inaccurate coloring book of clichés.

33/100

Life of the Party (2018)

Directed by Ben Falcone. Starring Melissa McCarthy, Gillian Jacobs, Molly Gordon, Maya Rudolph, Jessie Ennis, Luke Benward, Heidi Gardner, Adria Arjona, Matt Walsh, Julie Bowen, Debby Ryan, Chris Parnell, Stephen Root, Jacki Weaver. [PG-13]

Newly-divorced McCarthy returns to college (the same one her daughter attends) to finish her degree, ends up making friends, joining a sorority, hooking up with a frat boy, etc. One of the vaguest movies I can recall having ever seen—if anything was vaguer, what chance would I have of remembering it?—as it dutifully drifts through the facsimile of conventional story beats and collegiate comedy tropes without any noticeable resistance or momentum, as half-formed character types corralled by stage directions come in and out of scenes (or simply the frame), and nothing of any interest at all ever happens. Where’s Rodney Dangerfield when you need him?? Rarely painful—the inexplicable, flapping desperation of McCarthy’s “stage fright” oral report scene being the major exception—but even rarer are the gentlest of chortles this stillborn material inspires. In a supporting role as a stereotypical mean girl, ultra-deadpan Debby Ryan seems to be trying so hard to pull off a second-rate Selena Gomez mimicry, I briefly thought it was Selena Gomez. Christina Aguilera cameos as herself.

33/100

Robin Hood (2018)

Directed by Otto Bathurst. Starring Taron Egerton, Jamie Foxx, Ben Mendelsohn, Eve Hewson, Tim Minchin, Jamie Dornan, Paul Anderson, F. Murray Abraham, Cornelius Booth. [PG-13]

Another retelling of the Robin Hood legend, this time produced as if trying to appeal to modern action movie fans with its sleek but dismal vintage, arrows flying and exploding like machine-gun bullets, a horse-and-cart escape resembling a car chase, and so on. As such, it’s hugely anachronistic in ways both knowing and stupid (the lavish party scene alone…), but resorts to tired clichés and story beats so often that any chance for it to feel fresh (if still extravagantly silly) is defeated. Ben Chandler and David James Kelly’s screenplay treats the titular outlaw as something of an Olde English Bruce Wayne, and laughably incorporates democratization alongside GOP-style fear-mongering for an unwieldy blend of politics and escapism. Minchin’s flustered technique puts an amusing spin on the Friar Tuck character, but Mendelsohn’s sheriff is gruffly repetitive and an overly made-up Hewson makes for one of the most colorless and unappealing Marian’s to reach the big screen (it doesn’t help that she has no chemistry whatsoever with Egerton). A labored misfire that should have all but the least discriminating viewers constantly thinking, “That’s not how that sort of thing works!”

33/100

Time Freak (2018)

Directed by Andrew Bowler. Starring Asa Butterfield, Skyler Gisondo, Sophie Turner, Will Peltz, Aubrey Reynolds, Jillian Joy, Joseph Park. [PG-13]

Well, “freak” is a little harsh, but Butterfield’s physics genius is selfish, obsessive, a bit creepy, and I think we’re supposed to feel for him on his time-hopping quest to save his relationship with girlfriend Turner. In the movie’s far-fetched and logically-impaired premise, a college student somehow finds the scientific inspiration/knowledge and the finances to build a time machine, which he uses for the very limited and unoriginal purpose of fixing mistakes he thinks he made while dating an aspiring musician (Turner) who’s fated to break up with him…or can fate be changed? Too derivative as a story idea—a ream of forefathers, ranging from About Time to Groundhog Day, get all but plagiarized—and plagued by an unappetizing protagonist, an unfunny (and sometimes plain annoying) stoner best bud (played by Gismondo), and a thinly-drawn object of infatuation, little more than a bundle of clichéd characteristics out of a Cosmo quiz. The movie even lacks the courage of doling out real consequences, and wraps things up so pat it feels like a surrender. Expanded from a same-named 2011 Oscar-nominated short film by writer/director Bowler.

33/100

The First Purge (2018)

Directed by Gerard McMurray. Starring Y’lan Noel, Lex Scott Davis, Jovian Wade, Patch Darragh, Marisa Tomei, Rotimi Paul, Mo McRae, Jermel Howard. [R]

Fourth in the Purge franchise goes back to the beginning—and for a good portion of the runtime, back to its more down-and-dirty horror roots—by showing how, after taking control of the White House and federal government, the New Founding Fathers tested a “sociological experiment” on Staten Island by making all crime legal for a 12-hour block of time in the year 2014 (whoopsie!). For a moment, it looked like the filmmakers (including new series director McMurray) were going to make their otherwise thuddingly obvious screeds on politics and class a little more complex by having the “hero” be a drug kingpin (Noel) who even takes advantage of the Purge by conducting a little homicidal payback on one of his enemies. But, alas, ambition ultimately isn’t in the cards, as the second half surrenders to the formula dreck and a series of increasingly unbelievable episodes and shootouts. I’m not sure what Marisa Tomei is doing here—in a blonde wig, maybe trying to collect a paycheck incognito, since I didn’t even recognize her during her first scene?—but her exit from the picture is handled so clumsily, if not for the hair color as an indicator, it would’ve been hard to guess what happened to her! Contempt for the audience only earns contempt from me. Premiered a couple months prior to the debut of the cable TV series (“The Purge”); a fifth film in the series, The Forever Purge, would follow in 2021.

32/100

The Getaway (2018)

Directed by George Ratliff. Starring Aaron Paul, Emily Ratajkowski, Riccardo Scamarcio, Francsesco Acquaroli. [R]

A couple (Paul, Ratajkowski) travel to an Italian vacation rental home for a weekend while trying to get past an infidelity on Ratajkowski’s part, then cross paths with neighbor Scamarcio, who acts friendly and good-natured, but has a sinister edge that he doesn’t even bother to mask (just as well, since the lumphead lovers don’t notice in time). Formulaic thriller is low on tension and interest, flatly performed by the leads, and takes too long to get to the inevitable violent conclusion. The filmmakers seem to be laughably trying to argue in favor of “making things even” when it comes to hanky-panky…as well as murder. Then they slap on an inane “twist” during the denouement that’s as murky as it is pointless. Initially released under its alternate title: Welcome Home.

32/100

Green Book (2018)

Directed by Peter Farrelly. Starring Viggo Mortensen, Mahershala Ali, Linda Cardellini, Joe Cortese, Dimiter D. Marinov, Sebastian Maniscalco, Tom Virtue, Brian Stepanek, Iqbal Theba, P.J. Byrne, Maggie Nixon. [PG-13]

Tony “Lip” Vallelonga (Mortensen), loving husband and father, wise-guy-adjacent tough guy, and casual racist, is selected to drive acclaimed black pianist Don Shirley (Ali) on an eight-week road trip through the Deep South; no need for the audience to bring the rose-colored shades since all cameras used to shoot this picture apparently had that filter on preset. Old-fashioned to the point of insult, the majority of the running time is spent in the company of both men, who “learn” from each other and “bond” as a result (at least they both know how to eat fried chicken by the end), although their camaraderie rarely exceeds the level of a second-rate buddy movie. It’s a trial to watch good actors like Mortensen and Ali try to breathe life into one of the hokiest and most obvious screenplays for a major motion picture in several years; granted, it doesn’t help that Mortensen chooses to play it too broad (the crass Italian-American stereotyping feels pulled less from reality than from sketch comedy). Ali fares a little better, but his tightly-wound but wounded stoicism does not profit from the producers’ decision to rarely let Shirley be onscreen without Vallelonga, depriving us of critical reactions and emotions that aren’t surface-deep and observed through another character’s eyes. (There’s even a brief episode where it’s revealed that Shirley is gay, but Vallelonga barely seems interested and the movie never brings it up again.) Focusing almost entirely on the white character wouldn’t have been so problematic if Vallelonga actually showed growth and regret and changed for the better, but he’s pretty much the same person he was at the beginning, just willing to accept this specific black man as slightly-more-friend-than-employer. Designed and packaged as crowd-pleasing fare, and the con seemed to work when it nabbed a Best Picture Oscar, but this is little more than a clumsy reversal of Driving Miss Daisy, another inexplicable populist victor that feels a little embarrassing in retrospect.

32/100

Holmes & Watson (2018)

Directed by Etan Cohen. Starring Will Ferrell, John C. Reilly, Rebecca Hall, Rob Brydon, Ralph Fiennes, Kelly MacDonald, Lauren Lapkus, Steve Coogan, Pam Ferris, Hugh Laurie, Michael Culkin. [PG-13]

Broad, anachronistic comedy version of the relationship between Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s indefatigable characters Sherlock Holmes (Ferrell) and Doctor Watson (Reilly); here they try to solve a rather pedestrian murder mystery and assassination plot against the queen. A scattering of laughs in the hit-or-miss early-going, but they dry up quick; far too many dated gags, lame contemporary references (selfies, MAGA hats, “Unchained Melody,” etc.), and uninspired slapstick routines sour the experience. Cohen’s script is especially lazy, using puerility as a crutch and even botching a Billy Zane cameo. The stars have been typically funny together in the past, but they don’t even try to play actual characters here (no matter how thinly-defined), and settle on being vaguely dumb, pompous and socially awkward; the supporting cast is littered with talent but they’re largely wasted (Lapkus hardly even gets to speak until the denouement). Not quite as awful as initially reported, but still not worth anyone’s time.

32/100

Ready Player One (2018)

Directed by Steven Spielberg. Starring Tye Sheridan, Ben Mendelsohn, Olivia Cooke, Mark Rylance, Simon Pegg, Lena Waithe, Hannah John-Kamen, Philip Zhao, Win Morisaki, Ralph Ineson, Susan Lynch, (voice) T.J. Miller. [PG-13]

Shortly after the creator (Rylance) of a massive—and massively popular—virtual reality program dies, his avatar announces a contest of sorts involving clues, keys, and a literal Easter egg, where the victor can claim full ownership of the fantasy world. Enter teenage Sheridan, who teams up with several other players to uncover the secrets before ruthless businessman Mendelsohn can. Clumsy storyline full of plot-holes and confusing “rules” populated by unexciting, ill-defined characters with a series of third act climaxes that drag on and on, yet its major failure is in the nearly non-stop parade of cluttered, garish digital effects, a stupefying assault on the eyes (and brain, trying to process all the soupy information). It’s hard to complain that it all looks so flagrantly phony—it’s not a real world with real people in it, after all—but the film is set a few decades in the future, so why are the graphics so outdated even by current PC/console standards? Exists solely as a pellet feeder for nostalgia and pop culture references (ooh, there’s the time-traveling DeLorean…hey, I’ve played “Halo”…oh, did you spot the Gremlins?), but rarely with any context or substance to warrant interest. One can find the occasional appreciable moment (a few wry lines from Miller, the surprising use of the Chucky doll as a weapon, etc.), but sorting through the chaotic farrago to find them isn’t really worth the taxing effort.

31/100

Under the Silver Lake (2018)

Directed by David Robert Mitchell. Starring Andrew Garfield, Riki Lindhome, Callie Hernandez, India Menuez, Riley Keough, Grace Van Patten, Jimmi Simpson, Don McManus, Jeremy Bobb, Zosia Mamet, Topher Grace, Patrick Fischler, David Yow, Wendy Vanden Heuvel, Rex Linn. [R]

Writer/director Mitchell tackles missing-person mysteries, cult headspace, and conspiracy theories in this Los Angeles-set neo-noir, a thinly-veiled metaphor for the West Coast meat grinder that feeds on young wannabe starlets. For no convincing reason, rent-dodging layabout Sam (Garfield) decides to investigate the disappearance of a neighbor (Keough) he barely knows, following cryptic clues (many of them embedded into pop culture) down strange, sometimes surreal avenues. The plot particulars could have been inspired by literal interpretations of unpublished Bob Dylan lyrics for all they end up mattering, since the film is so doggedly out of time and out of place, and the screenplay is little more than a crowd of postmodern ciphers and plot devices. Summons clouded memories of Dashiell Hammett, David Lynch, Inherent Vice, and others, absent any manner of tension or personal interest, but at least Michael Gioulakis’ photography is ravishing. Has inspired a minor cult following devoted to spotting all the clues and unraveling the puzzles behind them. Released in a few European markets in 2018, but didn’t open in the States until the following year.

31/100

The Nun (2018)

Directed by Corin Hardy. Starring Demián Bichir, Taissa Farmiga, Jonas Bloquet, Charlotte Hope, Ingrid Bisu, Bonnie Aarons, Gabrielle Downey. [R]

Excessively absurd and unimaginative outing in the Conjuring Universe, this one a largely self-contained spinoff featuring a demon wreaking havoc at a Romanian monastery. Priest Bichir, nun-in-training Farmiga, and average Joe guide Bloquet head out to investigate…let the “spooky” stuff begin. Those quotation marks should be emphasized since it bears warning that this sinister nun business isn’t scary even in the slightest; it’s merely laughable, earning embarrassed snickers every time one of them tries to look evil and menacing. Hackneyed and repetitive, with every jump scare telegraphed way in advance, and a story that’s even less interesting than the series’ sub-mediocre average. Can anyone really not see its “big twists” coming long before the characters catch on? The closest this thing comes to crafty is the way it connects to the original Conjuring at the end, incorporating archive footage in a way that should satisfy fans. Farmiga is the sister of frequent franchise co-lead Vera Farmiga.

30/100

Peppermint (2018)

Directed by Pierre Morel. Starring Jennifer Garner, John Ortiz, Juan Pablo Raba, John Gallagher Jr, Annie Ilonzeh, Pell James, Cliff “Method Man” Smith, Jeff Hephner, Richard Cabral. [R]

Over-the-top yet deathly grim riff on Death Wish with Garner going vigilante after her family is mowed down in a drive-by shooting. Garner tries her best, but her character is untethered from reality; within a few years, the suburban mom transforms into Lady Frank Castle, a supremely-skilled and armed-to-the-teeth avenging angel that only seems to slip up when humanity breaks through her steely shell; emotional vulnerability has no place in the pursuit of cold, hard justice, it seems. It’s tough to tell what’s riddled with more bullets over the course of the movie: criminal scum or credibility. Too dreary and rote to qualify as gruesome escapism (if you want that, watch Punisher: War Zone) and too silly and disinterested in the moral conundrums to rate as sensationalist drama (if you want that, watch The Brave One).

30/100

Assassin’s Creed (2018)

Directed by Justin Kurzel. Starring Michael Fassbender, Marion Cotillard, Jeremy Irons, Charlotte Rampling, Brendan Gleeson, Denis Ménochet, Ariane Labed, Michael K. Williams, Khalid Abdalla, Javier Álvarez, Hovik Keuchkerian. [PG-13]

Fassbender plays a member of a sect known as the Assassins Brotherhood, operating during the Spanish Inquisition; he also plays a modern day descendant of that man, recruited by the enigmatic Abstergo Foundation so that they can use his “genetic memories” and discover what the assassin did with a valuable artifact centuries ago. Feature film adaptation of the popular video game series jumps back and forth between these precariously tethered timelines, but doesn’t have a plot progression worth describing or a character worth caring about; considering the solemn mood that hangs over everything like a shroud, that makes for one long and uninvolving slog. The fights and chases in the 15th century Spain scenes might have been exciting to watch if the shots hadn’t been hacked and slashed to incoherence in the editing room, or if the picture wasn’t always such a grungy blur (must hold some sort of record for most dust clouds seen in a single movie—apparently, the past was really hurting for Swiffer technology). Though they also suffer from a weak balance between the historical exploits and the modern tech angle, the games are much more engaging.

29/100

Overboard (2018)

Directed by Rob Greenberg. Starring Eugenio Derbez, Anna Faris, Mel Rodriguez, Cecilia Suárez, Hannah Nordberg, Eva Longoria, Alyvia Alyn Lind, Payton Lepinski, John Hannah, Mariana Treviño, Fernando Luján, Swoosie Kurtz. [PG-13]

A rich, spoiled playboy (Derbez) on a yacht screws over the hired help (Faris), a single mom working two jobs to make ends meet, but the latter gets their revenge after the lazy jerk falls off the yacht and gets amnesia, and the blue-collar gal convinces the forgetful fool they’re married to each other and makes him “work off” the debt. Gender-swap remake of the 1987 Kurt Russell-Goldie Hawn rom-com, although since there’s a throwaway reference to “a blonde” amnesiac woman going through the same situation in the 80s, I guess it’s…an impossible-to-swallow sequel? That doesn’t make any sense, but nothing here does, starting with casting—since they’ve been compared to each other on numerous occasions, why wouldn’t Anna Faris be playing the Goldie Hawn role? After all, when it comes to high-concept situational comedy, casting against type almost never works, and I didn’t believe her as a working-class slob with three daughters, just like I didn’t believe his wimpy wisecracks coming from a spoon-fed snob. The script hits nearly all the same story beats, recycles a majority of the same jokes, and its attempts to get around the original plot holes and sexist attitudes (even by Reagan-era standards) create all new and bigger moral catastrophes and absurd lapses. The overall ineptness of the project fails to even satisfy demands when rehashing old scenes—just look at the finale, interrupted by a financial security wrinkle after the supposedly reformed jerk jumps overboard!Way to undercut the pre-programmed happy ending by making true love seem more like a reluctant convenience. The writer of the original film, Leslie Dixon, earns story and co-screenplay credits here. Derbez co-produced.

28/100

The Super (2018)

Directed by Stephan Rick. Starring Patrick John Flueger, Louisa Krause, Yul Vasquez, Val Kimer, Paul Ben-Victor, Taylor Richardson, Alex Essoe, Mattea Conforti. [R]

Someone’s creeping around an apartment building killing off the tenants in gruesome and implausible ways; could it be one of the supers, Kilmer’s enigmatic weirdo who’s obsessed with black magic? Tired devices aplenty in this silly, indistinct horror movie (e.g., a tinkling music box melody tipping off the audience that a canned “boo!” moment is on the way). There’s no one to care about, and since the filmmakers cheat in terms of both the plot and the scares, it quickly turns into a lurid potboiler that’s forgotten the instant you stop laughing at the inane climactic twist. Co-produced by Dick Wolf. Premiered at the Sitges Film Festival more than a year before its release date.

28/100

Replicas (2018)

Directed by Jeffrey Nachmanoff. Starring Keanu Reeves, Thomas Middleditch, Alice Eve, John Ortiz, Emily Alyn Lind, Emjay Anthony. [PG-13]

Reeves plays a neuroscientist (sure) who’s working on synthetic biotech and memory transplants when he takes his loving wife and three straight-from-the-catalog kids on a boating trip (so, yeah, they’re obviously doomed). After halfheartedly skimming the surface of the ethical considerations, Reeves goes about cloning the fam and uploading their thoughts into the specimens…but not before erasing all memories of the youngest kid, ‘cause the poor guy couldn’t save ‘em all. Implausible muddle of a second-rate science fiction idea, loaded with goofy plot twists in the second half, and character reactions that are so awkwardly labored, it’s surprising that “they’re all actually aliens/robots” isn’t one of them. The bizarre and abrupt ending isn’t funny, but don’t be surprised if it still inspires laughter. Filmed in 2016, presumably to fulfill a promise to occupy a contracted amount of space in Wal-Mart’s DVD bargain bin.

26/100

Unfriended: Dark Web (2018)

Directed by Stephen Susco. Starring Colin Woodell, Connor Del Rio, Rebecca Rittenhouse, Andrew Lees, Betty Gabriel, Stephanie Nogueras, Savira Windyani. [R]

More “screenlife” horror with another group of unlikable, none-too-bright young people trapped in Skype sessions while unsettling things take place which threaten their lives. Worse, because the sequel drops the supernatural “ghost in the machine” angle, the viewer is forced to take the events at face value: after taking possession of a lost-and-found laptop, Woodell stumbles across access to the dark web where the original owner, a sadistic and practically omniscient hacker, can see everything he does and threatens to kill his friends if he doesn’t give it back. As before, this gimmicky visual format doesn’t work at feature length, with extended time spent in its techno-conceit grating on the nerves (and senses) and exposing itself to too much ridicule. By the final twenty minutes or so, all sense of artificial reality is vanquished, and we’re left to watch scenarios with trivial emotional investment play out like the hypotheticals of the damned (sure, somehow we’ve got minions ready to go at a subway platform and a random hospital, and no one can stop us, bwahahaha). When writer/director Stephen Susco presented his screenplay for studio approval, did no one bother to respond, “Obvious troll is obvious”?

26/100

The Possession of Hannah Grace (2018)

Directed by Diederik van Rooijen. Starring Shay Mitchell, Grey Damon, Stana Katic, Nick Thune, Louis Herthum, Max McNamara, Jacob Ming-Trent, Kirby Johnson. [R]

The possessed young woman of the title is killed during an exorcism ritual, and the body later shows up at a hospital morgue, checked in by a young and troubled ex-police officer (Mitchell) working the graveyard shift. Strange and disturbing occurrences soon make her realize that the body may be dead, but the evil entity “living” inside the cadaver is not. Limp, regurgitated horror pic wastes a darn good setting and setup of skin-crawling suggestions and things-that-go-bump-in-the-next-room—see the vastly superior The Autopsy of Jane Doe—but after the pieces are in place, it becomes clear the filmmakers have no idea what to do with them, and the whole thing collapses like a house of cards atop the DVD bargain bin heap. Sloppy in narrative construction and choppy in assemblage, you’ll have to squint and pause sometimes to parse out what you’re looking at (if you really cared, and by the last half-hour or so, I sure didn’t), and the lack of discipline and explanation shows a borderline contempt for the audience’s intelligence, never addressing some of the most puzzling characteristics; e.g., how can contorted little Hannah Grace go anywhere she wants in and around the morgue and keep ending up back in the body bag? The filmmakers can’t even follow the tired formula right, as scenes that build tension and connect one action shot to the next are missing…but it’s hard to complain too much since brevity might be the movie’s sole virtue. Its original working title, used for some international markets, is Cadaver, which makes sense since the possession angle is just an unexplored gimmick to “explain away” the monster.

25/100

Terrifier (2018)

Directed by Damien Leone. Starring Jenna Kanell, Catherine Corcoran, David Howard Thornton, Samantha Scaffidi, Matt McAllister, Pooya Mohseni, Katie Maguire.

A maniacal killer dressed as a clown (known as “Art the Clown”, who had previously appeared in a couple of short films and the feature, All Hallow’s Eve,although I don’t recall the name ever being mentioned here) stalks and slaughters a bunch of people on Halloween night, starting with drunk party girls Kanell and Corcoran. Terse, extremely violent and gory slasher movie cuts and cuts and cuts until there’s no character development or narrative arc left; just a series of sadistic slayings with a strange—and sometimes ghoulishly amusing—mass murderer dragging it along. The gratuitous gruesomeness seems to be the only point, including one set piece that tries to outdo anything yet produced for theaters in the “torture porn” subgenre; if you’ve ever wanted to see a topless woman sawed in half from groin to skull, your ship has arrived. The acting is slightly above amateur hour, the direction lacks any innovation beyond the routine grindhouse/slasher playbook, and although every micro-budget dollar is onscreen, the muddy high-contrast camerawork gives the buckets of blood-and-guts an even grimier finish. On a personal note, I’m of the opinion that if a horror movie isn’t going to be a spine-tingling and/or bloody good time, there better be a point to it or a vision behind it, and if writer/director Damien Leone has either one (a big “if”), it is distressingly narrow and hateful. First played at a film festival back in 2016 before being granted a limited theatrical release almost two years later. Went on to make a minor dent while building small-scale cult interest, enough to warrant a sequel in 2022.

25/100

The Happytime Murders (2018)

Directed by Brian Henson. Starring Melissa McCarthy, Maya Rudolph, Leslie David Baker, Joel McHale, Elizabeth Banks, Michael McDonald, (voices) Bill Barretta, Dorien Davies, Kevin Clash, Drew Massey. [R]

Take Who Framed Roger Rabbit, multiply by Meet the Feebles, subtract all charm and laughter. Set in a world that inexplicably finds mankind and puppetkind living together in civilized society, McCarthy (human) and Barretta (puppet), former partners on the police force, reluctantly team up to solve a series of murders that are targeting former stars of a television program called “The Happytime Gang.” Consists primarily of humdrum detective work, chemistry-free buddy cop rapport, and a heavy peppering of dirty jokes that nine-year-olds may find hysterical (few of which don’t feel forced for the sake of shock value). The puppet work is pretty solid (this does come from a division of The Jim Henson Company, after all), but their integration with humans is never convincing; the occasional attempt to supply a racism metaphor always lands with a resounding thud. Clocks in at less than eighty minutes (not counting credits), but don’t be surprised if you check your watch/phone about a dozen times before it’s over.

23/100

Supergrid (2018)

Directed by Lowell Dean. Starring Leo Fafard, Marshall Williams, Jonathan Cherry, Natalie Krill, Daniel Maslany, Fei Ren, Amy Matysio, Jay Reso, Tinsel Korey.

In a virus-plagued post-apocalyptic future, two brothers trek out into the lawless wilderness, battling rebel/robber gangs to locate and bring back a Macguffin (in this case, a mysterious cargo that turns out to be…well, it’s pretty obvious). Unexciting retread of a dozen grungy actioners before it, populated by grim, uninteresting characters that are forced into uttering obvious and clichéd dialogue; the filmmakers were obviously striving for a harsh, intense mood, but more comic relief (besides a couple of D.O.A. one-liners from Maslany) would have helped make the experience more campy, less tiresome. Shot on a shoestring (and it shows), only the most undiscriminating action junkies would find the ugly, formulaic chases and shootouts worth watching. Highlight: a grotesque baddie wearing a sack over his head like Jason Voorhies in the second Friday the 13th flick, though he disappears way too quickly. Sure, no one should have been expecting Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior, but this Canuck crack can’t even approach the level of Doomsday.

23/100

The Con Is On (2018)

Directed by James Oakley. Starring Tim Roth, Uma Thurman, Alice Eve, Crispin Glover, Parker Posey, Sofia Vergara, Maggie Q, Stephen Fry, Michael Sirow. [R]

Normally, the prospect of pairing up two Quentin Tarantino regulars for a con artist caper would be promising, but that optimism deflates quickly in this depressing misfire. It’s an utterly ineffectual attempt to be cool and ironic and stylish, the sort of movie that thinks it’s “clever” for having the first line be a profane question coming out of the mouth of someone dressed like a nun—because, see, we thought she was a real nun at first, get it?? Despite the title (and the lead characters being scam artists), the main plot—such as there is one—involves a jewel forgery/heist, not a complicated, twisty con job, although the early portion of the story tries its darndest to pile on the cynically arch layers: a stream of anecdotes, flashbacks, back stories, and whatever else the filmmakers can deploy to camouflage how unoriginal and bankrupt it all is. Some of the actors try, but when saddled with self-conscious lines like, “If you’re going to wear shorts like that, you really must expect to be shot, mustn’t you?” there’s not really much they can do. Even if the “con” was on (and it ain’t), the light is assuredly off. Filmed in 2015.

22/100

Truth or Dare (2018)

Directed by Jeff Wadlow. Starring Lucy Hale, Violett Beane, Tyler Posey, Hayden Szeto, Nolan Gerard Funk, Landon Liboiron, Sam Lerner, Sophia Taylor Ali, Tom Choi. [PG-13]

College students on spring break meet a stranger who invites them to play a game of truth or dare, but the game ends up “following” them wherever they go, and whenever one of them is forced by a sadistic, body-jumping entity to take a turn, he or she has to either pick “truth” and tell the truth or pick “dare” and do the dare or else they die. Sure, it’s a dopey high-concept premise, but maybe worth a few decent jolts or creative death scenes, except…nope! The way the mischievous, game-loving demon repeatedly possesses both strangers and participants (and “ideas”, oooh-oooh!) earns howls of laughter—you thought the “scary smiling” in Smile was embarrassing?—and the PG-13 rating keeps all the mayhem toothlessly tame. I don’t think you could write crummier dialogue if you tried (example: “This game is smart…we’re not playing it, it’s playing us”), andthe capper is how the roster of victims isn’t merely underwritten, they’re actively awful people, corroborated by an ending which essentially turns the survivors into willing accessories of mass murder! Note: if the movie was ever forced to play its own game, it would be wise to choose “dare”, because it’s terrible at telling the truth (e.g., per Hayden Szeto, “Everyone loves Beyoncé”).

22/100

Fifty Shades Freed (2018)

Directed by James Foley. Starring Dakota Johnson, Jamie Dornan, Eric Johnson, Eloise Mumford, Luke Grimes, Rita Ora, Amy Price-Francis, Brant Daugherty, Arielle Kebbel, Hiro Kanagawa, Tyler Hoechlin. [R]

Compared to the last two softcore-via-Ambien Fifty Shades outings, this third chapter actually moves on a few occasions, but where it’s moving is anyone’s guess. Married life turns out to be a mundane life for Ana and Christian, and their extracurricular skin shows are starting to feel both gratuitous and routine (a little handcuffing of the limbs is about as kinky as it gets). Instead of spicing things up in the “playroom,” the filmmakers instead treat the audience to unbridled flirtations from an architect (Kebbel), a low-stakes car chase, an unwanted pregnancy, a kidnapping, etc. Sure, it’s a touch more interesting than the drab yet unseemly relationship drama, but the film is missing a few ingredients needed to make any of this ludicrous nonsense involving (some manner of interior logic and a memorable antagonist certainly would’ve helped…). Ends less with a sense of closure than a shrug of disinterest; what has been gained from six hours of stultifying sub-eroticism other than the sense that being super rich is not in and of itself super exciting? A few actors from the earlier films (such as Marcia Gay Harden and Victor Rasuk) are limited to mere walk-ons, while Kim Basinger’s “Mrs. Robinson” rapist only appears briefly in the unrated cut.

21/100

Lez Bomb (2018)

Directed by Jenna Laurenzo. Starring Jenna Laurenzo, Caitlin Mehner, Brandon Micheal Hall, Dierdre O’Connell, Kevin Pollak, Davram Stiefler, Bruce Dern, Cloris Leachman, Elaine Hendrix, Steve Guttenberg, Rob Moran, Jordyn DiNatale.

College student Laurenzo takes girlfriend Mehner and roommate Hall with her to Thanksgiving dinner at her parents’ house with the intention of finally coming out of the closet to her family, which is easier said than done, and way more labored than anyone onscreen or in the audience wants. More than an hour of beating around the bush (pun not intended, I promise), with infuriating levels of misunderstandings and miscommunications and people not listening to each other and people giving up trying to explain things to people who won’t listen. Then the weed cartel shows up (not a euphemism or lie, I promise). Feeble attempts at humor, characterization stereotypes galore, and a failure to given even the screen veterans in the cast anything at all with which to work make the movie’s Idiot Plot (to borrow a term from Roger Ebert) even more insufferable—I actually felt bad for Steve Guttenberg. Co-executive produced by Bobby Farrelly.

20/100

Hurricane Heist (2018)

Directed by Rob Cohen. Starring Toby Kebbell, Maggie Grace, Ryan Kwanten, Ralph Ineson, Ben Cross, Melissa Bolona, Christian Contreras, Ed Birch, James Cutler, Jimmy Walker, Moyo Akandé. [PG-13]

In this staggeringly imbecilic, Hard Rain-esque combination disaster flick/heist thriller, a buncha baddies (including a corrupt Treasury agent and sheriff) try to pull off a huge cash theft in the middle of a category 5 hurricane. This is all that matters: 1) one of the film taglines is “Make It Rain,” 2) the trailer promises “$600 million stolen at 600 miles per hour,” which would make this the first film ever filmed deep inside Jupiter’s Great Red Spot (not bad!), and 3) the climax shows an image of a skull emerging from the storm clouds as if being manipulated by Imhotep from the Mummy pictures. ‘Nuff said.

19/100

Welcome to Marwen (2018)

Directed by Robert Zemeckis. Starring Steve Carell, Leslie Mann, Merritt Wever, Eiza González, Diane Kruger, Gwendoline Christie, Janelle Monáe, Leslie Zemeckis, Neil Jackson, Falk Hentschel. [PG-13]

Suffering from PTSD and memory loss, hate crime victim Mark Hogancamp (Carell) frequently retreats to a complex fantasy world of “living dolls” he’s created: the village of Marwen, threatened by Nazi attackers, defended by himself (“Captain Hogie”) and his fashion model-esque female allies inspired by women in his life (a neighbor, a nurse, a hobby shop employee, etc.). A spectacularly wrong-headed disaster of concept, tone and execution—being based on a true story isn’t enough license (or rope) to forgive how shallow and skin-crawlingly creepy it is—which begs the question of who this would-be uplifting movie was meant for. The real-life scenes are as phony as the make-believe ones, and although the mo-cap animation used to bring the WWII-themed imagination to life is polished, the results are some match made in hell between Toy Story and Sucker Punch. Its message is muddled, its schmaltz is excessive, its protagonist is unappealing, its results are execrable; in short, a story about dealing with trauma with the capacity to leave sensible viewers traumatized…in all the wrong ways. Hogancamp’s life, artistic pursuits, and psychological ordeal were the subject of a 2010 documentary, Marwencol.

16/100

Future World (2018)

Directed by James Franco & Bruce Thierry Chung. Starring Jeffrey Wahlberg, Suki Waterhouse, James Franco, Milla Jovovich, Margarita Levieva, Snoop Dogg, George Lewis Jr., Lucy Liu. [R]

Indifferent post-apoc-crock, scraping the bottom of the eyesore barrel, sees wasteland scrapper Wahlberg (an instantly forgettable protagonist, even scene-by-scene) dragging his way across the grungy sprawl in search of medicine to save his ailing mama. He encounters a cut-rate psycho warlord called Warlord (Franco), a cut-rate hammy druglord called Druglord (Jovovich), and a murderous, malfunctioning android called Ash (Waterhouse)—it’s hard to tell if the filmmakers were sloppily attempting an homage with the name of the latter. An ugly film (and not in the way as intended), filled with roving camera shots that search for focal points as if they were as elusive as Waldo himself, and production values as assembly line-generic as the movie’s title. Even by the low standards of Mad Max rip-offs, an interminable experience. Liu, despite being billed high on promotional materials, only appears briefly at the beginning and end; Method Man also cameos.

15/100

Slender Man (2018)

Directed by Sylvain White. Starring Julia Goldani Telles, Joey King, Jaz Sinclair, Annalise Basso, Alex Fitzalan, Taylor Richardson, Kevin Chapman. [PG-13]

Illogical, ultra-derivative tripe based on an entity of “creepypasta” internet folklore; whoever thought it would make a good feature film should have to deal with the ILOVEYOU virus infecting every computer they ever own in perpetuity. Four not-very-bright high school friends “summon” the titular being (because they’re not very bright), and each of them starts disappearing one by one. Not a single original idea or creepy moment; just a poorly-deployed mash-up of scenes and tactics from second-rate chillers of the new millennium. In the pantheon of movie spirits and monsters, Slender Man surely ranks as one of the most generic and insipid, inspiring far more eye rolls than clammy brows. And it’s not enough to merely be mushy, perfunctory idiocy…it’s also excruciatingly dull. Maybe someone should’ve paired him up with a Husky Man for some Laurel & Hardy style hijinks so that something could be entertaining in this mess; it wouldn’t have been a worse idea than the one the filmmakers landed on: explain away the bogeyman until it’s drained of every last iota of its bogeyness. Appears as if the entire movie was filmed inside of a paper bag that the cast couldn’t act their way out of. And that ending sure is abrupt, but whatever gets this thing over and done with quicker…

9/100

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