Imagine a group of antiheroes teaming up to defeat a common foe.

We’ve already seen that with not one but two “Suicide Squad” films. Now, it’s the MCU’s turn.

“Thunderbolts*” runs with that formula, never forgetting how crucial comedy is to the equation. The results? An MCU film worthy of the brand and two breakout performances by the team’s Russian contingent.

Awkward!

Director Jake Schreier (“Robot & Frank”) re-introduces us to Yelena Belova (Florence Pugh), a reluctant gun-for-hire as she goes through her paces. The Russian’s first action sequence is shot from above, and we realize this won’t be a cookie-cutter franchise extension.

Schreier means business. So does Pugh, who anchors the ensemble in ways only the best actors.

Yelena is soon sent to a mysterious location where she bumps into other super-powered souls. Think John Walker (Wyatt Russell, son of Kurt), a low-rent Captain America, the Ghost (“Ant Man and the Wasp” alum Hannah John-Kamen) and a befuddled Bob (Lewis Pullman, son of Bill).

What about Bob, you say? He’s critical to the story, but we can’t say more than that.

They soon realize they’re pawns in a game set in motion by Valentina Allegra de Fontaine (Julia Louis-Dreyfus), whose motives make her a target on Capitol Hill. She wants to create a new, Avengers-like team, and she’s willing to do whatever is necessary to make that happen.

The unlikely warriors must team up to thwart de Fontaine’s plans, setting this oddball squad in motion.

Other wannabe Thunderbolts include Yelena’s father, the Red Guardian (a scene-stealing David Harbour) and Congressman Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan), AKA The Winter Soldier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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“Thunderbolts*” lacks the air of a film tinkered with (“Captain America: Brave New World“) and the stench emitted by “The Marvels.” It’s a solid tale filled with interesting characters, sharp dialogue and plenty of comic relief.

Some of that falls to Harbour, whose eagerness to be a hero once more never gets old. Not even close.

The other “heroes” remain conflicted to the core. Yelena’s complicated past haunts her and the mission. John Walker’s marital woes hang over his every move. He’s a caricature of a star-spangled hero, and no one knows it more than he does.

It’s a shame the film’s introductory sequence, set in an expansive vault-like locale, takes forever to be resolved. The film’s pacing is otherwise crisp, but that protracted sequence dulls the film’s momentum.

The screenplay, credited to just two scribes (Eric Pearson, Joanna Calo) leans hard into the teammates angle. It’s all the antiheroes talk about, refusing to let the growing bond settle in on its own.

Think the “family” blather in your average “Fast & Furious” movie, and you’ll get the gist.

That team dynamic still plays out as intended, with the deeply flawed heroes realizing what it means to save the day. It’s about more than helping innocents.

It’s therapeutic.

That’s a powerful message to embed in a superhero romp, especially one dedicated to keeping the MCU relevant.

RELATED: CRITIC V CRITIC: THE GREAT SCORSESE-MCU DEBATE

Schreier proves more than adequate on the action sequence front, even though no post-“Avengers” has matched what that two-film finale mustered.

Not even close.

“Thunderbolts*” mixes up the action beats, including a finale that proves both imaginative and fresh. It’s both impressive and unexpected.

“Thunderbolts*” unwisely name-checks the Avengers. A lot. The comparisons rarely flatter, and it’s still a longshot that these wayward heroes will ever stand tall next to Thor, Hulk and company.

What the film accomplishes is still considerable. It makes the MCU feel necessary again, even if the two post-credit scenes add little to the bigger picture like past films effortlessly did.

HiT or Miss: “Thunderbolts” serves up some less-than-super heroes who charm us all the same.

The post ‘Thunderbolts*’ Makes Misfit Heroes Matter appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

The recent passing of character actor Tony Todd brings to mind just how fully he established himself in the horror genre.

Despite roles in films like “Platoon” (1986) and “Colors,” Todd became a household name after he played the title role in Bernard Rose’s “Candyman” (1992) and its sequels, as well as the cryptic, commanding Bludworth in the “Final Destination” films.

That includes the upcoming “Final Destination: Bloodlines,” which marks Todd’s final film role.

Despite this horror pedigree, a big one that is oddly overlooked is the 1990 Tom Savini-directed remake of “Night of the Living Dead.” The film marked the first time the classic George A. Romero film was officially remade.

“Dead’ gave Todd his first lead film role, taking over the part of Ben, made iconic by Duane Jones in the 1968 original.

The ’90 “Night of the Living Dead” is a controversial topic for genre fans, as the film was dismissed outright upon release 35 years ago but has grown in appreciation over the years, particularly for the crucial changes it makes to the classic formula.

The set up remains the same: the graveyard, Barbara (Patricia Tallman) and her brother Johnnie (Bill Moseley), enter a cemetery. The exchange is almost identical to the original (“They’re coming to get you, Barbara!”).

So is the way in which the undead suddenly stumble and lurch into the frame and we’re thrust into a world where the dead rise from the grave to stalk and feast on the living. Barbara makes her way to an abandoned house, where she works with Ben, played by Todd, to keep the house secure and the cannibal zombies out.

We eventually learn the house isn’t as deserted as it seemed, and more humans come out from hiding. After a while, it’s a toss-up what’s worse – the hordes of zombies trying to get in or some of the truly awful humans Barbara and Ben are struck with.

RELATED: ZOMBIE-FUELED ‘BATTERY’ NOTHING LIKE WE EXPECT

Savini’s hit-and-miss remake mostly remains faithful to the original screenplay by John Russo and Romero’s original screenplay (at least at first), is now in color and has the involvement of many of the original filmmakers. A cynical reason why so many alumni of the ’68 film are involved is because the original became public domain and, therefore, no one was making a profit off the obvious, lingering popularity of the classic original.

Yet, while there were obvious financial gains to be made in creating an official remake (after decades of rip-offs and Romero’s own spinoffs), Savini has also made a film that somehow stands on its own, both a replication of the ideas of the original and also an extension of it.

For starters, Barbara isn’t down for the count after the first act. I’ve always admired the honesty in Judith O’Dea’s portrayal of Barbara in the ’68 version, as her fear and remorse causes her to shut down.

I always wondered if I’d do the same thing in her position. On the other hand, Tallman plays Barbara as a traumatized soul and victim who become a warrior, the Ellen Ripley of this film.

It’s an inspired update.

The upside is Todd’s superb performance, the reimagining of Barbara, the impact of the best scenes and the beefed up, unsettling finish.

The bad news is that Savini doesn’t shake up the formula like Romero’s prior “Dawn of the Dead” (1978) and “Day of the Dead” (1985), nor the subsequent “Land of the Dead” (2005). In mostly keeping things faithful to the original, Savini, the horror make-up artist maestro, makes his directorial debut in the horror genre, in a film that isn’t as scary as needed.

Key scenes from the original are duplicated but somehow don’t hit hard enough. A key example is the horrifying basement reveal in the original, truly the stuff of nightmares, which doesn’t land the same way here.
The biggest flaw is the awful score by Paul McCollough, which sounds like a keyboard temp track and not fitting a theatrical release.

While Savini’s film is not an improvement and will never be remotely definitive, it manages to stand on its own where is counts. The final reveal of Ben is haunting – rather than utilized as a shock to conclude the film on, Savini, Tallman and Todd create a truly haunting moment.

Savini stages the action well but, strangely, the make-up isn’t as stunning as the prior Romero films.

Having Barbara provide last minute, on-the-nose commentary is unnecessary, though the wrap-up scenes succeed at worldbuilding and maintaining an unease that follows audiences out of the theater.

Savini’s “Night of the Living Dead” is inconsistent but often powerful, as it has a compassion for its two central characters but is otherwise as fed up with humankind as the zombies.

The post Tony Todd Pumped Life into ‘Night of the Living Dead’ Remake appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

David Cronenberg’s “The Shrouds” begins with an image so powerful, strange and emotionally resonant that the themes and ideas are in place immediately.

We see a dead body, deep under the earth, being illuminated by a light from an insect buzzing within the coffin. The body was the late wife of an inventor named Karsh, who is given a window to look at his late wife closely underground.

He lets out a deep, guttural howl of grief.

This introduction is either meant to be a literal part of this story or simply a symbolic expression of the film’s themes. Either way, the film had me in its grip from the very start.

Karsh, played by Vincent Cassel, is an inventor and businessman who runs a death-themed restaurant in the middle of a sprawling cemetery. During an interview, lots of obvious questions arise about the morbid nature of the setting, as well as the grim decorations positioned for the patrons to view (imagine a morbid Planet Hollywood or Hard Rock Café).

Karsh responds to a question with, “How dark are you willing to go?” Cronenberg, who wrote and directed this, his 21st full-length feature film, is toying with us, but also providing his audience with a warning early on: Leave Now If You’re Not Ready For This.

Karsh engages the curiosity of the interviewer and shows her, and us, that the cemetery is unconventional, as each tombstone has a touch screen that allows visitors to view the current state of the decomposed body beneath the earth.

This is just the opening minutes of “The Shrouds.”

In the latest edition of FLC Luminaries, THE SHROUDS writer and director David Cronenberg discusses his latest film: a profound reckoning with personal grief and a descent into noir-tinged dystopia.

Watch the full episode: https://t.co/0y7NFFl71E

: https://t.co/aHwpu468aD pic.twitter.com/YESWWu0dXy

— Film at Lincoln Center (@FilmLinc) April 25, 2025

Cronenberg still has the power to shock us and there are moments here that are so upsetting, I chickened out at the opportunity to see this a second time. Yet, this isn’t akin to a “Saw” or “Terrifier” sequel, but it does have a meaningful connection to Cronenberg’s wonderful “The Fly” (1986), particularly in the way he shows us devastating body rot but also cares deeply about his characters.

While clearly taking place in the near future (I’m guessing the setting is about a decade away), the look and feel of the film is distinctly in the vein of prior Cronenberg works. We get the expected icky technology and dialogue loaded with dry wit (someone wryly announces to Karsh that, “What you do creeps me out”).

Cassel, sporting the director’s trademark hairstyle, so closely resembles Cronenberg that this feels more revealing than usual.

Karsh is ostensibly a filmmaker who creates films about death and carries a morbid sense of humor. Karsh is accused of being a “techno atheist” and refers to the human body as an intricate system, devoid of warm humanizing.

Perhaps it’s naïve to suggest that Karsh is a literal stand-in and that this is among Cronenberg’s most autobiographical films. On the other hand, it possesses, in favorable ways, some of the best common traits from his prior movies.

“The Shrouds” is cool, original and compassionate. It’s also so dialog and idea-driven that it strongly compares to Cronenberg’s “Cosmopolis” (2012), which I mean as a compliment but not everyone who saw that Robert Pattinson-led thriller will agree with me (I love that movie, though I remember people walking out of the theater well before the movie ended).

The elegant cinematography (by Douglas Koch, who previously shot Cronenberg’s “Crimes of the Future”) and art direction are at a master-class level.

Some have contemplated that, since he is now 82 years old, this might be Cronenberg’s final film. I certainly hope not. What should be stated is that, aside from the rare misstep of “Map to the Stars” (2014), Cronenberg has not only created an extraordinary body of work but some of his best films have come late in his career.

Cronenberg has never made a film where he held back, reigned in or muted his vision. Even his most Hollywood efforts, “The Dead Zone” (1983), “The Fly” (1983) and “A History of Violence” (2005) are among his most popular and celebrated but still exude the uneasy pull, uncompromised vision and human struggles we expect.

My favorite Cronenberg works are “Spider” (2002), “Eastern Promises” (2007), “M. Butterfly” (1993), and “Crimes of the Future” (2022), in that order.

Cronenberg’s films have always been jolting (the exploding heads of “Scanners” are, after all, among his signature visuals) but his latest creations demonstrate an ongoing mastery of the craft and absolutely no intimidation in expressing the darkness of his visions.

I wish “The Shrouds” was as good, from start to finish, but it unravels a bit at the end. Many of Cronenberg’s works have also explored subterfuge but this one gets too caught up in its conspiracy plot. The espionage overwhelms the emotional core of the story.

“Crimes of the Future” also had this problem, though the closing revelation felt like last-minute narrative busywork and not an overall hindrance.

Here, the whodunit distracts from the central focus, which was so brilliantly set up in the first hour and couldn’t be more compelling. The biggest problem with the cloak and dagger stuff in “The Shrouds” is that the movie doesn’t need it.

Everything else here is so compelling.

Cassel is a good choice for Karsh, though the supporting performances steal the movie. Krueger appears in flashbacks as Karsh’s wife and also as two other characters, one of whom is a personable AI assistant. Kruger gives such distinct human dimension to three very different roles and it’s enjoyable seeing Guy Pierce playing such a scuzzy, off-putting character (akin to Paul Giamatti’s knockout performance in “Cosmopolis” and Ed Harris in “A History of Violence”).

I will eventually revisit “The Shrouds,” as I do all of Cronenberg’s films, but I don’t think his wrap-up is as strong as the buildup. Nevertheless, like his prior films, Cronenberg has, yet again, given us a vision to wrestle in our subconscious.

Like it or not, there is no forgetting a film by David Cronenberg.

Three Stars (out of four)

The post Why ‘The Shrouds’ Is Quintessential Cronenberg appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

The architecture of George Lucas’ imagination merges in his third “Star Wars” prequel, “Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (2005).

Now returning to the big screen for its 20th anniversary, this highly debated final entry in the prequel trilogy has slowly acquired a fanbase since its Cannes Film Festival premiere.

The film is still flawed in some ways and quite extraordinary in others.

The release of the “Star Wars” prequel trilogy, “Episodes I-III,” was met with mixed reviews upon release and mostly contempt from longtime fans of The Force. The films don’t deserve to be treated like cinematic black sheep.

In fact, considering how strong the final 2005 release is, I suspect a reassessment and prolonged appreciation of both Lucas and his 1999-2005 directorial work overall is in order.

Add the passing of time and the positive reception to the Disney+ TV series extensions of these prequels (particularly “Obi-Wan Kenobi,” which revisits the central figures of “Revenge of the Sith”) and you have an altogether different assessment of their value.

The uneven quality of the first prequel, the enormously popular but now widely unloved “Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace” (1999) gave way to the superior, underrated and mostly grand “Star Wars: Episode II- Attack of the Clones” (2002).

The criticisms hurled against the initial entry carried over to the second and were mostly absent by the third.

Lucas’ longstanding vision of the fall of Jedi apprentice Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christenson), his betrayal of his best friend and teacher Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) and directionless dalliance with Padme Amidala (Natalie Portman) had reportedly always existed in his mind.

Prior to “Sith,” that vision was never realized on film.

Everything comes together so well in “Revenge of the Sith,” both as a fantasy/drama and as a bridge to the older films that begin with “Star Wars: A New Hope” (1977), it seems as though Lucas hit his creative stride in finally bringing the crucial third episode to life.

In “The Phantom Menace,” the film peaked with the extraordinary pod race sequence, showcased a pulse-quickening, three-way light saber battle but mostly struggled to connect on an emotional level. “Attack of the Clones” had a similar on-again, off-again quality, but featured a coliseum battle/Yoda unleashed climax that salvaged the film (and its unfortunately clumsy love story).

In “Revenge of the Sith,” Lucas gets things off to a running start from the first frame: a terrific outer space dog fight leads to a series of extended cliffhangers, with some leftover business from the prior film reaching a conclusion.

The rousing start builds to a standout scene, in which the brooding, emotionally immature Anakin Skywalker meets with the sinister Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid) at an odd, opera-like event (the visualization is gorgeous, but it’s impossible to tell if it’s performance art or a musical production).

This carefully paced sequence, in which Palpatine verbally seduces Skywalker into embracing the Dark Side of the Force, is one of the best-written and most pivotal in the entire franchise. From there, the film remains on strong footing and, even with a few missteps, is consistently terrific.

Many complain about the uneven acting, but the storytelling and filmmaking are so strong they keep this space opera focused. Christensen’s line readings are hit and miss, but his take on Skywalker’s petulance and escalating madness is just right.

The Chosen One is ready to celebrate the 20th anniversary of Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith with the theatrical re-release.

Experience it in theaters April 25. pic.twitter.com/zoQAUSCFS5

— Star Wars (@starwars) April 24, 2025

When you consider Lucas’ overall take on Darth Vader, that the man behind the mask is a stupid, arrogant young man who brings about his self-destruction, Christensen’s often unlikable portrayal feels in key with the character arch. Lucas’ take on the young Vader-to-be is unsympathetic, gloomy and that of a misguided fallen prince, an intergalactic Hamlet.

The presence of R2-D2 and C-3PO, the Rosencrantz and Guildenstern of this galaxy, only pushes this idea further.

Portman’s last scene with Christensen is wrenching (in fact, both Portman and her co-star’s performances get better as the film progresses), though she has some of the most intriguing lines early on.

I’ve never been compelled by the political qualities of these movies, but this one had me intrigued. Portman has a few tasty lines: “This is how liberty dies…with thunderous applause.” She also asks Anakin, “Have you considered we’re on the wrong side?”

At the time of the film’s release, some questioned if Lucas was criticizing President George W. Bush. It seems more likely he’s urging viewers to not simply stand by while a wrongful leader or powerful figure takes control.

This could also reflect Lucas’ famous stance on having artistic control on his work and not allowing outside influence to compromise his art.

The film belongs to McDiarmid, who is so magnetic and vile as the film’s true villain, that his performance anchors the film. McDiarmid makes choices both subtle and wildly theatrical, resulting in a true tour de force in a film (and series) not always associated with fine acting.

RELATED: ‘STAR WARS’ COLORING SHEET FOR THE KIDDIES

McGregor also has some great moments, particularly his sad, “You were the chosen one” lament at the film’s end. The CGI Yoda is as expressive (and athletic) as ever, and there’s the glorious image of the tiny green Jedi master getting a piggyback ride from Chewbacca.

While the highly-touted Wookie battle scene goes by too quickly, Lucas wisely edits back and forth between the two duels between Yoda and the Emperor, and Anakin and Obi-Wan; the former is spectacular, while the latter is equally a visual marvel but goes on too long.

Moments of comic relief are brief and welcome, as this isn’t just the darkest in the series but also contains violence that is downright sadistic.

The somber, central set piece of “Order 66” (the number is likely intentional, as is Palpatine’s resemblance to the devil) is strong stuff. So is Skywalker’s physical demise and transformation into one of the most famous villains in cinema.

All of this is done so well, with an emotional richness that took me off guard, it concludes with the feeling that Lucas capped off his highly touted and debated return to directing with one of his best “Star Wars” movies.

Both popular in theaters and underappreciated today, “Revenge of the Sith” is Lucas unleashed.

The post ‘Revenge of the Sith’ Showed Lucas as His Creative Peak appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

The beast at the core of “It Feeds” will look familiar to horror fans.

Inky. Skeletal. Long, talon-like fingers. It comes on the screen with a jolt and leaves even faster.

We’ve seen this dozens of times before.

The difference lurking within “It Feeds” makes this genre outing worth a look. It starts with a screwball secondary character, the likes of which we haven’t seen before. Add a mid-film twist, and “It Feeds” is more nourishing than expected.

Horror veteran Ashley Greene stars as Cynthia Winstone, a widowed mom with the power to peer into people’s minds. Call her a therapist with a trick up her dainty sleeve.

That skill lets Cynthia process harrowing sights, like malevolent spirits that sometimes cling to her patients.

Her daughter Jordan (Ellie O’Brien) acts as Mom’s assistant, guiding wayward clients through the unusual therapy. A troubled teen named Riley (Shayelin Martin) comes to their home one day, complaining of a cruel beast that’s feeding on her.

Literally.

The teen’s father Randall (Shawn Ashmore) will have none of that crazy talk, and he whisks her away from the Winstone’s home.

Riley’s appearance inspires Jordan to do a little digging. Now, the Winstone family is in for the fight of its life.

First Trailer and Poster for IT FEEDS, Starring Ashley Greenehttps://t.co/1BaAHVmvMh#ItFeeds #trailers #horror #film #movies #AshleyGreene #ShawnAshmore pic.twitter.com/fToXrCdW1M

— The Movie Waffler (@themoviewaffler) March 7, 2025

Greene knows how to handle the themes found in “It Feeds.” She’s alternately grim and maternal, convincing on both counts. She’s also relentless when trying to rope local law enforcement to her side. 

This is a genre affair, so the jump scares start early and grow increasingly raw. This movie won’t let you stay still in your seat. Not gonna happen.

Writer/director Chad Archibald makes the most of the creature F/X, and he’s equally assured with his cast. Kudos to Juno Rinaldi who adds some comic relief as Agatha, a neighbor who decides to finally take charge of her life – at the worst possible time.

She’s silly but the kind of character rarely seen in this genre. That’s refreshing.

So is young O’Brien, tasked with anchoring key scenes and never seemingly overwhelmed by the task. She’s neither a morose teen nor a girlboss, just a young woman thrown to the B-movie wolves.

Production values are solid all around, and Archibald makes his movie feel like a studio effort – without the gaudy price tag.

“It Feeds” feels like a horror movie of its moment, but we’ll look back on it knowing it flashed some of this era’s better qualities.

HiT or Miss: “It Feeds” doesn’t reinvent the horror wheel. It just knows what scares us and gets straight to the point.

The post ‘It Feeds’ Knows What We Crave from Horror appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Richard Pryor’s “Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life is Calling” (1986) is a harsh, strange and wildly entertaining drama by producer/co-writer/director/star Pryor about his life up to that point.

Ostensibly “The Richard Pryor Story,” though containing only a few stand-up routines, a single scene exploring his film career, and lots of scenes depicting his self-destructive behavior and drug addiction.

When this film arrived in 1986, everyone was all too aware that Pryor, the stand-up sensation who became a massive film star, had been hospitalized after much of his body was severely burned while freebasing cocaine. Pryor’s post-rehab comeback, included concert films, playing the quasi-villain in “Superman III” (1983), leading a few bad movies that were big hits (like the wretched but enormously successful “The Toy”) and even attempting a “Sesame Street”-esque Saturday morning program called “Pryor’s Place” (1984).

If the idea was to endear himself back to his fanbase and connect to a new, younger audience, then the last thing Pryor needed was making a movie like “Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life is Calling.”

Pryor’s film depicts some of the darkest moments of his life, with Pryor replaying these vignettes, many of which were likely as painful for him to play as they are for us to watch. Here is a work that could have felt congratulatory or cloyingly sympathetic, but Pryor goes exactly in the opposite direction.

His film admirably never plays like a self-righteous plea for forgiveness.

Pryor avoids making excuses or seeking to reshape himself for a mainstream audience. To say the least, it’s a daring work. Long out of print, “Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life is Calling” is now back, thanks to a great new edition from The Criterion Collection.

Jo Jo Dancer may be the character’s name, but the story is all Pryor’s. The title character is, as Pryor’s bio and especially his stand-up routines informed us, a child who was raised in a brothel. Early promise and failures as a stand-up comedian lead Dancer to explore edgier material on stage, which is when his comic abilities sharpen but also when the temptation and substance abuse starts.

Pryor weirdly has the story begin with Dancer/himself in the hospital, where, wrapped in bandages, Dancer’s soul leaves his body and Pryor, playing a naked ghost, provides acidic commentary (but no ironic self-deflection or excuses) on the incident.

The flashbacks unravel in conventional order, but Pryor often cuts back to the hospital room, where the burned Dancer appears to be a goner, while Dancer’s soul revisits pivotal encounters that shaped his life.

Considering how mainstream, safe and celebratory recent movies on everyone from Freddie Mercury, Bob Marley, Elton John and Tupac Shakur (to name a few) have been, it’s refreshing and downright radical to see how Pryor shapes this.

Pryor’s Jo Jo Dancer is a talented artist and grateful survivor, but that doesn’t mean Pryor is letting himself and/or the character off the hook. It’s as though Pryor made this as a cautionary tale to himself as much as his fanbase.

The story angle of Dancer’s soul cutting loose and looking back on his life could have proven to be a mawkish misstep, not to mention painfully sentimental, but Pryor mostly makes that work.

The reason why so much of this is powerful is due to how terrific Pryor’s performance is. Instead of freezing up in his directorial debut (as well as producing, writing and starring), Pryor’s ability to pull off such a daunting creative juggling act is amazing.

Considering how demanding the role of Jo Jo Dancer is (the harrowing free base scene, a cabaret performance and a public nude scene), Pryor’s extraordinary and mostly dramatic performance impresses for how much nerve it must have taken him.

“Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life is Calling” is too limited in its timespan and running time to be definitive and far harder to watch than any of his fans could have expected. However, alongside his concerts “Richard Pryor: Live in Concert” (1979) and “Richard Pryor: Live on the Sunset Strip” (1982) and Pryor’s excellent lead turn in “Blue Collar” (1978), “Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life is Calling” is unmissable.

The Criterion release has an interesting discussion of Pryor’s influence by actor/filmmaker Robert Townsend; I like Townsend (his “Hollywood Shuffle” is wonderful) but a more definitive reflection on Pryor’s life would likely come from his former “Harlem Nights” (1989) co-star Eddie Murphy.

A better feature on the disc is an extended 1986 interview between Pryor and Dick Cavett, which begins well, turns into a trainwreck, overcomes this and grows fascinating, then becomes embarrassing until it ends up with a great discussion.

Cavett asks probing questions and shoots himself in the foot throughout, and Pryor allows himself to be as vulnerable as he is funny. It’s among the most fascinating discussions I’ve ever seen someone have with Pryor.

Over the years, many news outlets have reported attempts to make a new film on Pryor’s life; after Pryor’s death in 2005, everyone from Marlon Wayans to Mike Epps were once attached to announced but unmade movies about Pryor.

Now, in a time when movie biopics have become not only routine but too precious about the people they’re portraying, it’s worth noting that a film about Pryor could cover a lot of ground…and likely wind up nowhere near as harrowing as Pryor’s own movie about himself.

The post ‘Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life is Calling’ Set Biopic Bar Sky High appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Calling “Sinners” a vampire movie is both accurate and misleading.

Yes, the main characters fend off an army of the undead. Director Ryan Coogler’s ’30s-era film offers much more than B-movie fireworks.

It’s smart, sophisticated and sultry, for starters. We meet strongly defined supporting players along with the great Michael B. Jordan in two roles.

Again.

“Sinners” has plenty to say about racism, culture, religion and more, but entertainment remains in sharp focus. The year hasn’t offered up much to date, cinematically speaking, but it’s a lock “Sinners” will decorate plenty of Best Films of 2025 lists.

Including this critic’s lineup.

Jordan plays both Smoke and Stack, dapper twins with an eye on a glorious prize. They want to open a juke joint in their Mississippi hometown after spending time on two very different battlefields.

The siblings served their country in World War I and survived Chicago’s gangland culture.

Now, they’re pooling their resources into a musical Mecca to the Blues. They’ve got the booze and a guitar wunderkind named Sammie (Miles Caton in an intriguing screen debut). An abandoned mill offers all the room needed for some foot-stomping fun.

The stars are aligned, and the brothers’ wobbly moral compass means anything goes. 

Coogler isn’t interested in a traditional, slow-burn horror outing. He revels in the brothers’ backstory and gives all the key characters time to leave an impression. That means Stack’s old flame Mary (Hailee Steinfeld, “Begin Again”) wants to settle a score with him, or maybe just make up for lost time.

The avuncular Cornbread (Omar Miller) provides the “muscle” and guards the door against unwanted intruders. And then there’s Annie (Wunmi Mosaku), who offers a maternal presence that ties to the film’s heart-wrenching climax.

Meanwhile, a gentleman with a broad grin named Remmick (a chilling Jack O’Connell) threatens the brothers’ vision. Those red eyes are a dead giveaway.

The era’s entrenched bigotry hangs over every scene.

“Sinners” clicks as an exuberant, musically-charged drama about Deep South racism. The characters defy cultural shackles, creating their own rich sense of community in the process. The musical sequences soar, and Coogler expertly splices joyous songs with the story’s increasing tension.

It helps that our heroes live up to the film’s title.

Smoke and Stack aren’t angels. Far from it. They’re still embracing an all-American ethos the only way they know how.

Jordan remains a compelling film anchor, but the choice to have him play both leads proves distracting. Yes, he and the film’s costume designer (Ruth E. Carter, “Black Panther”) create distinct personas for Smoke and Stack. Casting two, equally charismatic leads would bring more dynamism to the story.

Coogler’s vision allows for classic vampire tropes to weave effortlessly into the story. Garlic. Wooden stakes. Holy water. It’s all here, and the sly special effects never lean too hard on CGI wizardry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Once the vampire menace appears, the film slips into Horror Mode. Imagine “From Dusk ’til Dawn” without B-movie winks decorating the screen.

Coogler refuses to deploy jump scares or other shopworn tics. His horror elements prove fresh and shocking, embracing genre mandates without feeling constrained.

The film’s setting alone sets this vampire yarn apart from its predecessors. So do the emotional stakes. The vampires promise victims a new life, one free of 20th Century hate. Eternal life has its rewards. So does an existence without bigots haunting your dreams.

“Sinners” wraps with an unnecessary blast of vengeance that comes close to a lecture. And if you’re tempted to leave the theater when the end credits begin … don’t.

HiT or Miss: “Sinners” delivers original vampire thrills with a nuanced tale connecting to our country’s troubled history.

The post ‘Sinners’ Offers Colossal Upgrade to Vampire Genre appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Brian De Palma’s “Mission to Mars” was the first of three high-profile, sci-fi event films about the red planet in the early 2000s.

It’s easily the one that arrived with the most fanfare.

Disney’s big-budgeted “Mission to Mars” came with a wave of hype and the bragging
rights of appearing months before “Red Planet” (also 2000) and John Carpenter’s
“Ghosts of Mars” (2001).

I’d argue that Carpenter’s robust guilty pleasure is the best of the lot, though “Red Planet” and even De Palma’s critically dismissed work are better than most remember.

Set in the year 2020, it centers on a cluster of astronauts who are initially on a rescue
mission, when a team led by Don Cheadle is sucked up into an awesome sandstorm.
Later, another team featuring Gary Sinese, Jerry O’Connell, Connie Nielsen and Tim
Robbins investigate the highly atypical activity occurring on the red planet.

You may have noticed I only listed the actors and not the names of their characters. This is on purpose.

A few of the performances (namely that of Sinese and Cheadle) are good, but you won’t care about the humans.

De Palma, coming off the mega-blockbuster of the first “Mission: Impossible” (1996) and
the smaller scale, rousing and flawed “Snake Eyes” (1998), was on a rare hit streak, but
hardly anyone’s idea for the director of a lavish sci-fi epic.

The result was a mixed bag and a bumpy ride, but I have a soft spot for it. The better than expected but still underwhelming “Red Planet” (2000) and John Carpenter’s campy, clunky but still enormously entertaining “Ghosts of Mars” (2001) have slightly better reputations than De Palma’s film.

The latter opened big then dropped harder than a comet.

Today, De Palma’s film has fallen out of favor even more so than during its initial release. It’s often an afterthought when one reflects on his body of work. Yes, “Mission to Mars” is not up to one of his classics, but it’s not “Wise Guys” (1986) or “The Black Dahlia” (2006), either.

The worst parts of “Mission to Mars” are overly reminiscent of other, better sci-fi films. The best scenes demonstrate why De Palma is a master filmmaker.

Brian De Palma’s Mission to Mars was released 24 years ago today.

“When the first manned mission to Mars meets with a catastrophic disaster after reporting an unidentified structure, a rescue mission is launched to investigate the tragedy and bring back any survivors.” pic.twitter.com/79bsjoDJE1

— The Spaceshipper (@TheSpaceshipper) March 10, 2024

It opens with a BBQ party, filmed in a single take, like a backyard version of the justly celebrated opening of De Palma’s otherwise atrocious “The Bonfire of the Vanities” (1990). After the impressive start, De Palma tops it with a zero-gravity dance sequence, set to Van Halen’s “Dance the Night Away.”

It’s clearly intended as a tribute to a famous scene in “2001: A Space Odyssey” (1968). To give De Palma a big and deserved compliment – here is one of the few times where someone ever attempted to match Kubrick and nailed it, even if only for a few minutes.

A mild spoiler for this one paragraph: Once we finally get to the extraterrestrial (the reveal is similar to how Dorothy first meets the Wizard of Oz), the Martian resembles a cross between a harp and a disco ball.

Despite a fairly conventional story, it gets crazy during the first and especially the third act. The ending is ludicrous, but I absolutely loved it.

Most of “Mission to Mars” is visually breathtaking, with excellent sound design (note the
skill of the aforementioned sand funnel attack) and FX that are always dazzling.

On the downside, it needed a tighter edit, a lot more of Cheadle and much less pre-
mission chatter. It reminded me of Barry Levinson’s “Sphere” (1998), another lavish, all-
star, equally spectacular, totally bananas and wonky flop that is better than its reputation.

“Mission to Mars” is the kind of movie that, decades earlier, would have starred Leslie Nielsen and Richard Denning and sported cardboard sets.

RELATED: BRIAN DE PALMA’S ‘FEMME FATALE’ LET IT ALL HANG OUT

I found “Mission to Mars” underwhelming the first time I saw it and still acknowledge the
flaws, particularly in the overly drawn-out second act. Nevertheless, the director’s ability
to stage wonderful set pieces, give each moment the space to unfold in real time via
one-take shots and ultimately take the goofy but audacious premise as far as it can go is an asset.

There is an unabashed optimism here, as the screenplay celebrates the wonders of
human ability and “the 3% difference between man and ape DNA.” There’s even a line
that sounds like it could have been uttered by Jeff Goldblum in “Jurassic Park” (1993):

“Life reaches out for life.”

This is such an upbeat view of the possibilities found in the universe. There’s even a “Treasure Island” reference.

An aspect that is rarely mentioned is that, like the subsequent “Country Bears” (2002)
and “Pirates of the Caribbean: “The Curse of the Black Pearl” (2003), this is based on a
Disney park ride: Rocket to the Moon, later retitled Flight to the Moon, then retitled
Mission to Mars in 1975.

Had De Palma’s film been a huge hit, we’d probably be looking at as many sequels as there are Captain Jack Sparrow flicks.

Despite the PG rating, there’s a moment here that continues to traumatize me: we watch an astronaut get caught in a vortex, screaming as he spins until he rips apart. Ah, De Palma.

The biggest misstep here will sound like nitpicking but its almost a total dealbreaker for me: Ennio Morricone’s score sounds like a placeholder, a softer, inconsistent variation on his work for “The Mission” (1986).

During the film’s worst scene, it sounds like Morricone is playing a church organ. Morricone has authored and conducted some of cinema’s greatest soundtracks, but this is at the opposite end of that spectrum.

At times, the film matches De Palma’s attempts to give the sci-fi genre a jolt, which makes it worth seeing at least once.

The post Why ‘Mission to Mars’ Failed to Launch appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Michael Angarano’s “Sacramento” is a comedy/drama that initially comes across like a filmed play until it turns into a self-indulgent actor’s exercise.

Rickey (Angarano) is an insufferable man-child who has grown apart from his best friend, Glenn (Michael Cera). He’s stunned to see Rickey just show up at his home after considerable time apart.

While Rickey has been floating through life and tries to insert himself as an authority during group therapy sessions, Glenn is struggling to keep himself together as the stress of a baby on the way is taking a toll on him.

Glenn’s supportive but fed-up and very pregnant wife (Kristen Stewart) gives Glenn her blessing to join Rickey on a road trip to Sacramento, where he plans to spread the ashes of a dead relative.

Angarano, who stars, directs and co-wrote the screenplay with actor Chris Smith, shapes this into a road movie. That only shows how far the subgenre has fallen (even “Due Date” and “Kodachrome” were much funnier than this).

The big twist is easy to guess immediately, and it often feels like a sitcom without a laugh track.

The timing of the film’s arrival is unfortunate for Angarano. “Sacramento” is awfully similar to a recent and far superior comedy/drama that recently garnered Kieren Culkin an Oscar; if “A Real Pain” could create its own genre, it’s this movie.

However, “A Real Pain” was soulful and never as needy as this film. Both films are about an old, hard to like friend that tests the limits of a long-suffering best friend as they travel together. Unlike Culkin’s character in “A Real Pain,” I wasn’t happy to be stuck with Angarano’s Rickey.

Cera’s performance is much stronger, as his Glenn is better defined (I liked the nice character detail where Glenn wakes up in a single mom’s apartment after a long night and immediately cleans it for her). Otherwise, both Glenn and Rickey are annoying.

Instead of creating a potent, odd-couple pairing, they cancel each other out.

Stewart picks the perfect tone for her scenes, which appear to have been filmed in a single day. Rosalind Chao, a jewel of an actress (she should have been an Oscar contender for “The Joy Luck Club”) is sadly wasted in an early bit.

There’s a slow-motion montage of Glenn and Rickey wrestling while drunk which must have seemed funny while they shot it. The whole thing becomes like its main character – initially interesting, then an endurance tester.

Cera’s fanbase will be more forgiving, but this is a long way from his strongest vehicles (look no further than “Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist” or “Scott Pilgrim vs. The World”).

“Sacramento” loses all credibility in the third act. The story takes a wildly improbable turn, assumes we’d find it darkly comic (dark yes, comic, hell no) and hopes both we and the onscreen characters would forgive a deal-breaking act of child abduction(!).

It’s at that point that “Sacramento” goes from being overly mild to downright awful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I like that Angarano has intended to make a film that emphasizes compassion for those down on their luck. Finding empathy for those we have “outgrown” is the core of what “Sacramento” is about but, to quote the late, great Roger Ebert, the problem with this movie isn’t what it’s about, but how I just wanted these characters to grow up already.

I believe that keeping in touch with old friends and maintaining meaningful friendships is a necessity, but there’s also an awareness of boundaries and time to consider. These characters do not care about any of that.

Their shenanigans are hard to watch.

A typically glib line of dialog sums up my feelings for the entire film. After Rickey gives another yet another feel-good statement (an example – “anger is just sadness with nowhere to go”) and pleads for forgiveness, a character responds, “I’m sorry, I don’t care.”

Yep, me too.

One and a half stars (out of four)

The post Road Trip Comedy ‘Sacramento’ Runs Out of Gas appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Who hasn’t had an epically awful first date?

It can’t be worse than what our heroine endures in “Drop.” The thriller imagines a worst-case scenario with a twist sure to make audiences squirm.

Yes, everything that could go wrong does on this date from hell, but you can’t stop rooting for this couple to make it to Date No. 2.

That sets this lean shocker apart from lesser fare.

Violet (Meghann Fahy) is overdue for a romantic night on the town. She’s a widowed mom who always puts her adorable son Toby first. She’s been cyber-flirting with a photographer for weeks, and it’s finally time for them to meet.

That’s Henry (“Green and Gold‘s” Brandon Sklenar), a handsome gent who seems just as eager for romance. They’ve chosen a restaurant with a stunning view of downtown Chicago, so the mood is just right.

Except Violet’s phone won’t stop buzzing. She thinks it’s her sister, touching base about some minor toddler hiccup. Instead, it’s a series of “DigiDrops” (think AirDrops) from someone in the restaurant.

Look at your home security cameras on your phone’s app, the message tells her. She sees a masked man lurking within her house, mere yards away from Toby.

The stranger demands she do exactly what he requests or lil’ Toby won’t survive the night.

The trailer gives away even more of the story, suggesting it’ll be a loooong 60-plus minutes until we get either a reveal or a resolution. Director Christopher Landon (the excellent “Freaky“) keeps our interest while making the absurd events as rational as possible.

Yes, most men would have fled the restaurant after 15 minutes of Violet staring obsessively at her phone. The film acknowledges this while leaning, hard, on the couple’s chemistry. It pops off the screen.

Violet and Henry bring some serious Samsonite luggage to the date. Her past is cleverly revealed throughout the story, while we get glimpses of why he’s so hesitant. Violet’s back story is heavier, suggesting an imbalance that raises the emotional stakes.

That grounds a film that goes from surreal to absurd at warp speed. And we haven’t gotten to the third-act fireworks yet.

Meghann Fahy and Brandon Sklenar answer our Very Important Questions about their latest film, #Drop, from @blumhouse, which *drops* into theaters April 11. pic.twitter.com/5eJrNEpWRn

— Los Angeles Times (@latimes) March 18, 2025

Screenwriters Jillian Jacobs and Christopher Roach populate the restaurant with quirky characters, the kind that relieve tension while nudging the plot along. We meet a nervous, middle-aged man on his own blind date and a plucky bartender who serves as Violet’s counselor.

Plus, Violet’s server is a wannabe actor who thinks he’s “performing” for the new couple.

Funny. Engaging. And necessary given the tension in play with every new “DigiDrop.”

You can’t escape “Drop” without muttering, “Oh, come ON” at least once (it happened to this critic at the very end). The setup is improbable, and the execution is even more laughable.

That’s unfortunate, but from the start, we’re captive to the screenwriters’ knack for blending the preposterous with moments that feel all too real.

That mix makes “Drop” worth a reservation. Just know if you’re bringing a date the night can’t go any worse than what’s happening on screen.

HiT or Miss: “Drop” delivers head-smacking contrivances, but the core of the film is impossible to resist.

The post ‘Drop’ Is Either Best – or Worst – First-Date Movie appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

The spy thriller needs a facelift.

Yes, modern films flex the latest technology, turning a simple drone strike into an urgent war upgrade. They still depend on bulky heroes, crazed conspiracies and maddening gaps in logic.

“The Amateur” falls hard for the latter, but in other ways the thriller feels fresh and vital. Blame star Rami Malek, whose curious screen presence is welcome in any genre. The film’s central gimmick is the real game changer, a chance to reset the spy thriller on its own terms.

Charlie Heller (Rami Malek) works as a CIA decoder, but life’s basic tasks seem out of reach. He’s too nervous to travel with his adoring wife Sarah (Rachel Brosnahan), for example. His dependence on her borders on obsession.

They’re still a sweet couple, and his nebbishly nature is lapped by his killer coffee skills.

Sorry, ladies … he’s taken (but not for long, sadly).

Terrorists kidnap Sarah during her work trip to London, an incident he watches with horror play out on the news. She’s killed in the melee, and Charlie becomes hellbent on revenge.

His whole life disappeared in a muzzle flash.

His CIA bosses are literally the best people to mete out justice, but they can’t act immediately for broader reasons (no spoilers, please!). Outraged, Charlie gets a crash course in Spy School to pursue the guilty parties personally.

He’s paired with an old-school instructor named Henderson (Laurence Fishburne) but is told he’s not cut out for spy work.

At least on paper, he thinks with a grin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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“The Amateur” burns precious calories on character development, and it doesn’t end with the first act. Malek’s Charlie is an eccentric, but watching him push past his neuroses is fascinating.

Except when it’s time to take out the trash. Dum-dum dummmm!

Like most thrillers, “The Amateur” asks us to swallow hard as some farcical plot developments take over. The screenplay never turns Charlie into Jason Bourne-lite, a lean, mean fighting machine. His intellect is his secret weapon, plus a knack for building impromptu gadgets.

At the London premiere of “The Amateur,” Rami Malek reflects on his transition from a villain in the “Bond” franchise to playing an “unexpected hero” who is relatable to everyone. pic.twitter.com/WIM4L4GGjp

— AP Entertainment (@APEntertainment) April 1, 2025

Malek isn’t challenged by “The Amateur,” but he’s perfectly cast as a man living outside his comfort zone. What’s missing? An organic evolution from desk jockey to killing machine. And, more importantly, the psychological angst that might come with that shift.

Supporting players add necessary layers to the story, including the intimidating Holt McCallany as Charlie’s supervisor and Julianne Nicholson as the CIA’s public face. Fishburne’s presence matters most, but his limited screen time proves problematic.

Caitriona Balfe shows how “The Amateur” can soar when it remembers the story’s DNA. She plays a fellow spy, the real deal, and her partership with Charlie includes an incredibly tender moment. It’s brief, but it suggests the kind of attention to detail spy films often lack.

These are human beings risking life and limb, remember?

So how does Charlie track terrorists despite his lousy social skills?  Well, it helps to have screenwriters (Ken Nolan and Gary Spinelli) who can steer a novice through his paces. He even stays a few steps ahead of his CIA pals.

Some amateur!

Director Jason Hawes (“One Life”) makes the most of today’s technology, allowing Charlie to circument his lack of training with ingenious traps and digital assistants.

“The Amateur,” an update on the 1981 movie starring John Savage, delivers a third act twist that lands with a thud. A character reemerges in a way that may make theater goers laugh out loud. The moment also doubles as a potential franchise starter.

“Amateurish?” “Amateur 2: Still Learning?”

This odd genre twist is worth a look but let’s leave it at that. 

HiT or Miss: “The Amateur” wisely updates the spy thriller template, with star Rami Malek making the most of the welcome twist.

The post Here’s How ‘The Amateur’ Upends the Spy Thriller appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

“Minecraft” isn’t like most video games of the modern era.

The pace is leisurely and the graphics are purposefully crude. Picture a series of blocks meant to portray sheep, pigs and our plucky avatar, Steve. Those old enough to remember the Atari 2600 gaming system may feel a pang of nostalgia with every round.

That retro charm is everywhere in “A Minecraft Movie,” a gaudy attempt to translate the blockbuster game to the big screen.

What’s simple and streamlined at home is complicated to the Nth degree on screen. Stars Jack Black and Jason Momoa guide newbies and rabid fans alike through the digital haze. Their distinct personas make the goofier bits go down easily.

They have their hands full on that front. “A Minecraft Movie” is silly on steroids, a key reason it’s hard to get mad at its fractured storytelling.

The world building required for this “Movie” is sizable. Younger viewers may be confused, but so will their parents. Our hero Steve (Black) rushes through the hurried exposition, eager to get to the scenery chewing ASAP.

Turns out poor Steve couldn’t fully tap his imagination as a younger man, leaving him on the outside looking in. One day, he enters a mine shaft that has fascinated him for years.

He discovers a portal to an alternate universe called the Overworld where he can create to his heart’s content, brick after brick. Naturally, he doesn’t want to leave.

His tranquility is tested when he accidentally enters a second realm known as The Nether. Creepy, pig-like beasts roam this bleak landscape, led by the villainous Malgosha (Rachel House).

She vows to conquer Overworld in a generically evil fashion.

Meanwhile, four Earth-bound strangers end up in Overworld, including the cartoonish Garrett “The Garbage Man” Garrison (A pink-clad Momoa, having a blast). He’s joined by shy Henry (Sebastian Hansen), his big sister Natalie (Emma Myers) and real estate agent Dawn (Danielle Brooks).

Poor Brooks is given little to do save provide reaction shots and Mary Sue-like heroism. Myers is ignored for long stretches at a time.

The quartet joins forces with Steve to save Overworld and themselves.

The story echoes the chaos found in too many kiddie movies today, the opposite of what made the “Minecraft” game matter. It’s still harmless, all of it, and that’s to director Jared Hess’ credit.

The “Napoleon Dynamite” helmer refuses to take anything seriously.

Phew.

Some comic bits score and Black’s enthusiasm is beyond infectious. He goes to 11 in every scene. Maybe even 12. He even gets to break out his Tenacious D pipes a time or three.

Momoa, playing against his hunky appearance, is similarly sweet as a delusional video game champion who peaked in the ’80s.

One of the film’s charming elements? The time period is hard to suss out. That anachronistic sense is oddly appealing in our digital age.

The visuals are delightfully droll. Is this a CGI wonderland, or are some of the Minecraft creatures people in dopey costumes? Either way, it works.

And then there’s Jennifer Coolidge as a lonely teacher flirting with an Overworld refugee who escaped his realm. The “White Lotus” alum can conjure smiles from thin air, which is exactly what happens here.

“A Minecraft Movie” duplicates some of the source material’s core functions, from those blocky swords to creating structures out of thin air. Newbies may be confused, but it’s incorporated reasonably well into the story.

That’s assuming you can follow what’s happening from beat to beat. Just try keeping focus on the mission in play.

“Minecraft” remains a deeply inventive game that lets players explore their budding imaginations at their own pace. The story gives lip service to that reality, but it’s far more interested in “Napoleon”-style shtick.

Gosh!

HiT or Miss: Children will get the most pleasure out of “A Minecraft Movie,” a collision course of blocky odes to the enduring video game smash.

The post ‘A Minecraft Movie’ Misses the Whole Point appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

In a year when the Oscars’ Best Documentary award went to “No Other Land” — an equivocating Palestinian drama of local activists fighting the Israeli military’s alleged displacements and discrimination — it is fascinating to see a pro-Israeli film break through mainstream Hollywood.

Despite Americans’ overwhelming bipartisan support for Israel’s right to defend itself, Hollywood is torn on the issue.

The Far-Left and the far-Right either support the Palestinian cause or dissident Christians struggling in the Holy Land. Moderates generally affirm that Israel has not been the aggressor and has held back on intentionally killing civilians.

That’s despite repeated cries of genocide.

Releasing a film like “September 5” amid this conflict is fascinating given that division. The film only received a wide release in December and is currently trickling out on VOD and physical media. It’s also currently streaming on Paramount+.

The film follows the infamous terrorist attack that occurred at the 1972 Munich Summer Olympics. The Palestinian group Black September kidnapped 11 Israeli athletes and got into a gunfight with German police at the Munich airport that killed an officer, the athletes and the militants.

The event overshadowed the games and became one of the most televised terrorist attacks in human history. Roughly 900 million watched the live broadcast from the Olympic Village.

“September 5” is told from the ABC News sportscasters who collaborated with Peter Jennings to use their unique access to get the news out to the world.

This lens is the beating heart of the film’s pathos and perspective. The sportscasters were out of their league and participating in an unfamiliar form of journalism. They make several key mistakes throughout the film, up to and including accidentally keying in the terrorists to the response of the Munich police.

It’s clear that Roone Arledge (Peter Sarsgaard), Geoffrey Mason (John Magaro), and Marvin Bader (Ben Chaplin), in their capacity as sports journalists, aren’t in the best position to be making objective calls about what is happening.

They’re able to put a live studio camera on the ground and point to the hostage situation, drawing concerns that they might accidentally broadcast a murder on live television. They’re also fighting their limitations.

They don’t speak German, forcing them to rely on a translator. They regularly find themselves getting lied to by the police. The latter are internally cracking under the pressure and unable to adequately respond.

RELATED: ‘SCREAMS BEFORE SILENCE’ IGNORED BY CRITICS

By the film’s end, there’s a bleak sense that the journalists didn’t make a difference. Despite being praised by their higher-ups and making some correct, risky calls, the humanity of the situation is ultimately too much to bear.

They’re going to win Pulitzer Prizes and go down in history for their reporting, while the bodies of 17 people and government helicopters are smoldering at the airport.

The politics of such a terrorist attack also gum up the situation. Given that the Munich Olympics were happening in Germany just 27 years after the Holocaust, there is a palpable pressure for the German government to show it has reformed.

Officials want to protect the Israeli athletes at all costs, but its police and military are inexperienced and neutered, hiding important details from the public. When the pressure gets too hot, their first response is to shut down the broadcasts.

“September 5” certainly isn’t a deep cut against the Fourth Estate. If anything, it’s meant to lionize it. Given its unique perspective, though, and the insane history in play, it captures many of the fascinating tensions that exist within journalism.

ABC’s voyeuristic viewpoint, inexperienced journalists and reliance on press releases from the state mean that it is doomed to misreport important details that can get people killed. They want to make a difference, but their success can only be bittersweet.

Their best efforts make them, at best, documenters of man’s inhumanity.

Not surprisingly, the film’s approach to the underlying issue of Israel vs. Palestine is mostly to sideline it. There isn’t much reflecting on the morality of the conflict.

The focus stays on the human cost of its consequences.

This isn’t Steven Spielberg’s “Munich,” which approached the same events with a far more polemic viewpoint. The Israeli activists are portrayed rightly as innocent victims in “September 5,” while athletes from other Arab countries fully condemn the terrorist attack as evil.

Regardless, it is still brave in this moment to posit that the modern state of Israel can be in such a position. It’s one thing for recent films like “Bardejov” and “The Zone Of Interest” to condemn the genocide of the Jewish people during the Holocaust, especially while their filmmakers concurrently condemn Israel on the national stage.

It’s another for recent films like 2023’s “Golda” or “September 5” to draw the lines of good and evil so directly.

The post ‘September 5’ Draws Powerful Distinction Between Good and Evil appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Every once in a while a comedy creates its own wacky universe.

Think “The Greasy Strangler” or “Napoleon Dynamite.”

The normal rules don’t apply in these films. Everyone in the cast is sticking to a new, absurdist playbook. “Audrey” is one of those movies.

The Aussie comedy is bold and black, a charcoal-hued tale of a stage mother willing to do anything to steer the spotlight back to her.

Anything.

What begins as a gloriously original romp quickly runs out of steam, falling back on wacky sex scenes and immoral twists to keep us engaged.

Nothing doing.

Ronnie (Jackie van Beek) longs to reclaim her brief acting career, and she’s eager to push her teen daughter into the biz at the same time. That’s Audrey (Josephine Blazier), who isn’t as excited about a theatrical life as much as Mama.

Audrey wants to run off to Nepal with her beau, but before that can happen she falls off the roof of her home and ends up in a coma.

Don’t ask.

That won’t do, Ronnie mopes. My daughter has rehearsals coming up! So she steps in and pretends to be Audrey at her local school.

Meanwhile, Audrey’s father Cormack (Jeremy Lindsay Taylor) does handyman work for a church dabbling in spiritual pornography.

Don’t Ask, The Sequel.

Cormack falls for one of the church’s male leaders, a rabbit hole that makes little sense at first and gets more confusing as the story trudges along.

“Audrey” grows darker and darker, and it’s clear the filmmakers aren’t sure what they want from their broad farce. Is this the story of a middle-aged mom pretending to be her teen daughter (and all the wacky high jinks that ensue)?

Yes and no.

Is this a dark tale of a stage mom on steroids? Sure, but not really.

Is it a portrait of marital malaise? Yes, but only to showcase unnecessary sex scenes that aren’t funny or engaging.

We’re left with that coal-black tone, too few laughs and a narrative that keeps pushing us away.

Defeated by Dashed Career Dreams, Jackie Van Beek Takes on Daughter’s Identity in ‘Audrey’ – SXSW Trailer Drop https://t.co/4FrNcAW2IS

— Variety (@Variety) March 7, 2024

Some laughs emerge but not enough to justify the wacky world building. The family’s other daughter, who has cerebral palsy, gets to experience a flood of emotions that some physically challenged actors aren’t allowed to explore.

That’s a plus, and actress Hannah Diviney quietly steals a few scenes.

The film’s dirty little secret is that life gets substantially better with Audrey out of the picture. It’s another meaty conceit, but screenwriter Lou Sanz gets distracted by other subplots.

Smaller scenes score bigger, like Ronnie’s acting classes under the tutelage of a teacher who seems as crazed in her own way as her ‘star’ pupil.

Van Beek is dialed in as the star-hungry Ronnie, and her arc could have gone in any number of hysterical ways. Instead, she finds herself fighting for her marriage in shockingly conventional fashion.

A third-act play stops the film’s crazed momentum cold, or whatever is left of it. Oh, what might have been with the maddening “Audrey.”

HiT or Miss: “Audrey” is so promising that the film’s eventual implosion is all the more painful.

The post ‘Audrey’ Is Guaranteed to Make You Squirm appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

The boldest touch in Oliver Stone’s film “The Doors” is that it never glorifies its subject matter, rocker/poet Jim Morrison.

Rather than create an ode to the so-called “Lizard King” and celebrate his body of work, Stone’s film portrays Morrison as a vile monster, a wordsmith who tarnished every meaningful friendship he had.

Morrison fronted The Doors, one of the most influential bands of the 1960s. He left us with a lot of great music. Here’s a movie that gives fans what they want and expect but also depicts its key figure in the most off-putting manner possible

Val Kilmer stars as Morrison, a free spirit whose filmmaker aspirations were cut short after he meets Ray Manzarek (Kyle MacLachlan). The two form a band (Frank Whaley and Kevin Dillon play the other members of The Doors) and create some groovy, poetry-driven rock.

Then, Morrison’s behavior, constant public intoxication and button-pushing actions on stage tarnish their image.

Kilmer’s monumental performance as Morrison is fearless, an uncanny embodiment that transcends mere impersonation. The movie doesn’t let us into Morrison’s personal head space but reflects his state of mind and the world he inhabited.

Of the band members, MacLachlan fares best as Manzarek (Dillon and Whaley remain in the background of most scenes).

Meg Ryan’s turn as Pam, Morrison’s girlfriend, is underappreciated. Like Kilmer, Ryan never flinches from showing her character at her most unguarded and unfavorable. Crispin Glover’s scary/funny Andy Warhol is one for the time capsule. So is Kathleen Quinlan’s ferocious work as a journalist/witch who entices Morrison.

An intriguing idea is implied early on: Stone appears as Morrison’s UCLA film professor and accuses Morrison’s work of being “pretentious.” Morrison is crushed and dramatically leaves the class (it’s among the more subtle things he does in the film).

The Doors (1991)
Val Kilmer lived and breathed Jim Morrison for almost a year before cameras rolled, afterwards he had to seek psychiatric help get ‘Jim’ out of his head. He should’ve won an Oscar for his incredible performance… he wasn’t even nominated.
RIP Val Kilmer pic.twitter.com/ZMoP8H1E60

— The Sting (@TheStingisBack) April 2, 2025

It could be suggested that what came next, Morrison’s career as a musician, was the worst thing that could have happened to him. Being famous enabled him to indulge in every temptation imaginable. Pam reminds Jim early on, not unreasonably, “You’re a poet, not a rock star.”

Morrison was addicted to drugs and obsessed with death, even before he had copious amounts of money, drugs and booze at his disposal. Morrison’s life gradually became self-destructive performance art, in which he was constantly surrounded by “vampires” (like the eerie pop figures he encounters at Warhol’s Factory).

Stone’s filmmaking mirrors the carnival mirror approach of Nicolas Roeg or Ken Russell at their battiest. With its gauzy haze and many, many hallucinatory scenes, it’s as though the whole movie were high.

It feels less like a facsimile and more like a movie that escaped from its era. At one point, Morrison declares “I live in the subconscious.”

So does this movie.

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If “The Doors” doesn’t sound like fun, it’s because it mostly isn’t. Before Morrison’s life and the story become a series of unfortunate incidents, there’s the early scene where he takes the band and their girlfriends on a trip to the desert where they take acid. It’s a long scene and a patience tester, even for fans of the band and music bios.

Stone’s vision of Morrison is of a man terrible at facing reality. We constantly cut back to the young Morrison remembering a car crash from his childhood. The incident may be the key to the character, or not at all, merely the only moment that resonated from his younger days.

The most revealing character moment is when Quinlan’s reporter informs Morrison that she located his parents; it’s one of the few times when we see Morrison caught off guard. Otherwise, forget waiting for a character dissection. Morrison’s life as a rock god is presented as an escalator heading down, a red-tinted descent into hell.

Some have come forward over the years to defend Morrison’s memory and accuse Stone of exaggerating (Oliver Stone bending the truth? No way!). Even if the three most objectionable and over the top moments are removed (there are dozens to choose from), the point is still made that Morrison was a drifter, an artist and a bully.

Michael Wincott’s manager character has a key line early on, in which he addresses Morrison’s outrageous behavior: having witnessed Janis Joplin “fall into a bottle,” he doesn’t want the same thing to happen to Jim.

The thing is, I love The Doors, have read Morrison’s book of poems and dig his music but, no matter how you want to spin it, his life is a cautionary tale, not a thing to celebrate. The closing scenes show us his grave and reveal the startling fact that Morrison only lived to be 27 years old.

Morrison is never made sympathetic here, and the film itself is often hard to endure. Both Stone and Morrison’s excess become too much. It’s a silly and overlong film but not a stupid one.

Here is a rock and roll epic that strangely draws us to the music but makes us think twice about celebrating the man behind it. Much of this plays like a bad acid trip…but it’s still a trip.

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