‘Nuremberg’ Should Crush TDS Once and for All

“Nuremberg” offers a slick, satisfying look at critical trials following the Third Reich’s demise.

Until it doesn’t.

Buried in the middle of this well-packaged drama is shocking footage of the Holocaust’s atrocities. What might seem tonally imbalanced is actually a perfectly deployed smart bomb.

It’s vital to the story in play, while reminding anyone cold enough to compare President Donald Trump to Adolf Hitler that they should be ashamed of themselves.

Yes, writer/director James Vanderbilt’s film is shrewdly assembled and brimming with snappy dialogue. The “why” behind the film, and its vital importance at the end of 2025, comes through with those visuals.

Never forget, it all but screams. And, in many ways, too many global citizens have. It renders “Nuremberg” a first-class film and cultural necessity.

The second World War is finally over.

Now, the battered Allies must wrestle with the remnants of the Nazi regime. International law isn’t clear on how to process the monsters who oversaw the murder of six million Jews.

Supreme Court Justice Robert H. Jackson (Michael Shannon) understands something must be done, and if the guilty parties must hang by their necks, it should be done after a public trial.

Meanwhile, the U.S. government tasks a headstrong psychiatrist Jack Kelley (Rami Malek) to interview Germany’s remaining officials.

Are they psychologically fit for trial? What led seemingly sane souls to endorse such an inhumane war? And could they reveal critical information that can be weaponized on the witness stand?

For Jack, the assignment could lead to a book deal that makes him more than a footnote to history. But first, he’ll have to match wits with Hermann Göring (Russell Crowe), the highest-ranking Nazi left standing.

Few stars could rally the charisma and cunning needed to capture the evil within the regime’s second in command like Crowe.

A duel of wits ensues, with Jack trying to connect with the brash leader and Hermann seizing on any kindness offered his way. Malek and Crowe crackle together, but reality suggests their paths will diverge in ways that aren’t tailor-made for drama.

For that, we turn to Jackson, now the chief prosecutor seeking to expose Göring and co. for all to see.

“Nuremberg” is nothing if not efficient, ladling out key historical facts between smartly choreographed sequences. One minute, we’re left agog at some of the atrocities Team Hitler set in motion. The next? Jack is finding the human side of a monster, particularly while meeting Göring’s wife and daughter.

Vanderbilt, whose career includes writing the revelatory “Zodiac” and directing the insufferable “Truth,” balances a heady amount of storylines and historical nuggets with ease. He’s also partial to old-fashioned Hollywood storytelling.

That includes a heaping helping of humor, which may surprise some viewers. So will the spiffy banter and, to a lesser extent, the polished period trappings.

Malek delivers in ways that remind us of his Best Actor Oscar win for “Bohemian Rhapsody.” His shrink is headstrong and wise, then churlish and naive. Even better? Malek refuses to camouflage his flaws.

And they are plentiful.

“Nuremberg” also brims with memorable supporting turns, from Jack’s fascinating translator (Leo Woodall) to Richard E. Grant as a critical British lawyer. 

It all adds up to a rousing experience, one filled with big ideas but no finger wagging. The drama brings history to life in ways that are both accessible and bold. “Nuremberg” also should make it harder to forget what too many are oh, so eager to memory hole.

HiT or Miss: Russell Crowe’s towering performance makes “Nuremberg” a must-see in this crowded Oscar season.

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Why ‘French Connection II’ Was a Minor Miracle

John Frankenheimer’s “French Connection II” (1975) had the impossible task of following a massively popular thriller that forever changed the police procedural genre.

William Friedkin’s “The French Connection” (1971) wasn’t just a substantial hit. It walked away with Best Picture honors at the Oscars and solidified its star, Gene Hackman, as one of the most reliable, effortlessly authentic and hardest working actors.

Making a sequel without Friedkin seemed foolish and potentially disastrous. What Frankenheimer, Hackman and the screenwriters (Alexander Jacobs and Robert and Laurie Dillon) pulled off with the second chapter is a minor movie miracle.

Four years have passed since the events of the first film. New York City cop Popeye Doyle (Hackman) is still infuriated by having failed to capture Alain Charnier (Fernando Rey), the drug kingpin who escaped the U.S. at the end of the original film.

When “French Connection II” begins, Doyle has arrived in France, immediately causes trouble and is hot on the trail of Charnier. The villain now dines at luxurious restaurants in broad daylight.

Doyle is paired with a no-nonsense cop (an excellent Bernard Fresson), who fails to keep him in line and operating by the book. When Doyle finally catches up with Charnier, he’s caught off guard and the unthinkable happens.

“The French Connection” is untouchable, but Frankenheimer doesn’t just honor it but matches it by being as equally uncompromised but also something even more daring. This follow up is nothing like the original, takes enormous narrative risks and manages to extend the chase between Doyle and Charnier into something deeper and existential.

Nothing about the sequel seems inevitable or forced.

“French Connection II” is an amazing sequel and one of the best films of the 1970s. In the age where the director and screenwriter were king, here is a character-driven, unpredictable and tough-as-razor-wire thriller.

The second act of the film is rough, as it should be. We watch as Doyle is crippled by what Charnier does to control him, and it’s not a given that Doyle can escape. Also, Doyle’s rehabilitation isn’t shown through a quick montage or handled in a way to make us think he will survive.

Hackman has a monologue here, the “baseball” scene, where he explains why he became a cop and gave up his hope of becoming a ball player. In a career where Hackman proved he could play absolutely anyone and always make us believe; his work here is astonishing.

Ray made for a hissable villain in the original, but here, playing Carnier out in the open, enjoying his freedom and attempting to control Doyle in the vilest way possible, he becomes so much more than a heavy.
Because of the emotional stakes and the rough, unsentimental manner of the second act, the third act is even more thrilling.

There is such a long passage, devoid of action or guarantee that things will turn out okay for Doyle. When he is finally able to take action, every set piece excites.

When I’m asked why the 1970s are considered the best decade ever for cinema, its movies like this that come to mind. “French Connection II” is an exceptional sequel, easily one of the best chapter twos of cinema ever made (yes, I’d place it next to “The Godfather, Part II,” “Aliens” and “The Empire Strikes Back” without hesitation).

Frankenheimer and Hackman avoided doing an easy, mainstream cash-in sequel and made a movie every bit as down and dirty, as well as compassionate and enthralling, as the one that came before it.

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‘The Secret Agent’ Is Like No Other Film This Year

Kleber Mendonça Filho’s “The Secret Agent” is a wonderful film that stretches the possibilities of cinema narrative and approaches to storytelling.

This is a love letter to cinema and, among my favorite kind of movie, you won’t get ahead of it or guess where it’s going, ever.

Set during the Brazilian military dictatorship that lasted from 1964-1985, we meet our protagonist, Armando (Wagner Moura) as he’s passes through town and makes a stop at a gas station where a corpse is visibly rotting nearby. The way the body is treated is both ghoulish (the owner of the station explains how it got there) and hilarious (a vehicle drives by with audible screams).

A tense encounter with officers who harass Armando only adds to the odd, exhilarating feel the movie provides; I couldn’t predict what was coming and just surrendered to Filho’s storytelling, with anything-goes touches (the appearance of a certain cat will become a talking point), vivid period details and a main character whom I was always rooting for.

The opening sets the tone – get comfortable and be ready for anything, as there’s always something unexpected ahead.

Some of this plays like a thriller. At other times, it’s a hangout movie, then it dips into surrealism. There’s a suspenseful chase sequence and a quiet but emotionally rich epilogue that provides perspective on the passage of time.

I suggest that audiences just go with it and embrace the surprises ahead.

Moura has one of those faces that can convey movie star confidence but also be vulnerable and open. Moura is excellent as Marcelo, who is revealed to be a widow, a former teacher and dissident. Moura plays the role in varying stages – we’re watching the making of a movie star, as well as an excellent showcase performance.

Considering the character’s trajectory and the surprising way that Moura contributes to the final portion, this is among the most vivid performances I’ve seen all year.

In “American Cinematographer” online, DP Evgenia Alexandrova told me about her subversive visual approach to the Brazilian thriller, “The Secret Agent,” using bright, saturated colors as a counterpoint to the dark slow burn.https://t.co/6Sbb5yaSlk

— Bill Desowitz (@BillDesowitz) December 23, 2025

My only complaint is that the story is complex and layered but purposely not told clearly. Only after seeing the film from start to finish and, perhaps, a second time, will everything click. The third act belatedly reveals how everything connects and allows every subplot and character to finally connect.

Although not a spy film in the traditional sense, the story is comparable to a John le Carre thriller, with emphasis on setting and character first; the specifics of the story and how it all connects arrive much later.

This is a wild period piece that captures Brazil of 1977 under dictatorship and flush with corrupt figures in power. However, describing it that way might bring to mind a dry historical reenactment or a more conventional political thriller, which this absolutely isn’t.

A tiger shark and a missing limb (as well as that corpse in the first scene) become major plot points that evolve in surprising and funny sequences. I won’t give it away, but the bit with the severed limb may wind up the sequence from “The Secret Agent” that everyone will be talking about.

Udo Kier has a memorable scene that is among his last performances. Tania Maria steals scenes as Marcelo’s family matriarch and Luciano Chirolli is vivid as a loathsome villain.

There’s a surprise of some kind in nearly every scene. “The Secret Agent” is like a sprawling mini-series that has been skillfully shortened down to two and a half hours. It goes by fast and overflows with scenes I can’t wait to revisit.

This is one of the best films of 2025.

Four Stars

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‘Shell’ Makes Most of Body Horror Run Amok

The 2024 shocker “The Substance” earned raves, but the film’s extreme gore kept some far away.

Even Art the Clown might recoil at its blend of body horror and extreme FX. Demi Moore deserved an Oscar for enduring such a goopy film set.

“Shell” stakes out similar territory, but you’ll only cringe a few times as its protagonist’s vanity quest goes south. The films share a similar message, but “Shell” knows the concept goes down easier if the story embraces its campy DNA.

Good instincts. And, while “The Substance” is the superior film, “Shell” doesn’t implode in the third act like that 2024 film did.

Elisabeth Moss stars as Samantha, a former sitcom actress trying to resurrect her career. She isn’t as thin or beautiful as she used to be, so when she hears about a mysterious beauty regimen she’s intrigued.

The company behind the process known as “Shell” promises the closest thing to eternal youth. Just look at CEO Zoe Shannon (a divine Kate Hudson). She’s in her late 60s, for crying out loud, but looks like … Kate Hudson.

Samantha decides to try Shell on for size, and she quickly lands a film role and feels immeasurably better about herself.

It’s strange how that works, especially since the film does little to dramatically upgrade Samantha’s appearance. Her psoriasis does clear up in a jiffy, to be fair.

Another side effect? Zoe befriends her, which instantly upgrades Sam’s social status and career potential. 

So why does Sam’s Spidey Senses go off long before an inky skin rash blossoms on her neck? It turns out the Shell medical process hasn’t worked all the kinks out.

That’s being kind.

Is Zoe and co. to blame, or has Sam’s poor self-image manifested itself in dramatic fashion?

Screenwriter Jack Stanley makes sure we grasp the gender inequities built into Hollywood, but the script doesn’t wag its finger at us. Yes, Samantha should trust her talent and not fall for a dubious Shell game.

We all know that, but serial rejection can leave one famished for shortcuts. It’s one reason we’re solidly on Sam’s side. The other, of course, is that Moss excels at playing wounded characters whose inner strength rallies in the nick of time.

Remember her shockingly good “Invisible Man” remake?

“Shell’s” heady blend of horror/comedy has its warts, including a lack of sophistication that would sell the social satire better. The film’s quasi-futuristic trappings also reflect a modest budget. They mostly include a cyber watch that doubles as an iPhone.

Whoa!

Director Max Minghella (“Teen Spirit”) keeps the story humming, with new challenges cropping up at the right time. The few action sequences show Sam as resourceful, not Jane Bourne-esque.

Refreshing.

The third act approaches bonkers territory, but given everything we’ve learned up until then, it’s not entirely unexpected.

Moss may anchor “Shell,” but Hudson delivers an outsized performance that sells the material like a crazed carnival barker. She’s sinister but sweet, a manipulative beauty who will do what it takes to preserve her brand.

We’ve seen her kind before, but the performance doesn’t feel routine or predictable.

“Shell’s” main selling point is how it doesn’t take itself too seriously. Sure, there’s a “message” in play, and it’s one more than a few Hollywood suits should hear. The bigger priority is campy fun, and when an oversized crustacean shows up, you know that’s exactly what we’re getting.

HiT or Miss: “Shell” isn’t as message-obsessed as some socially conscious horror films, and it’s all the better for that streamlined approach.

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HiT’s Best Movies of 2025 (Behold the Ping Pong Prodigy!)

The most important movie of 2025 didn’t get enough attention.

Maybe they should have hired Timothée Chalamet, the star of the year’s best movie, to uncork his marketing madness on its behalf. 

Either way, the actor and that film in question head this year’s list of genuine “must-see” movies. And it’s not even close.

Chalamet’s bravura turn in “A Complete Unknown” seemed primed for a Best Acting Oscar. Biopic? Check. Real-life legend? Check. Performance that required years of extensive training?

Check.

Yet the honors went to Cillian Murphy for “Oppenheimer.”

It’ll be even harder to deny Chalamet following his stunning work in “Marty Supreme.” The tale of a ping pong pro’s quest for greatness in the obscure sport doesn’t sound like cinematic catnip.

Just wait.

Director Josh Safdie (“Uncut Gems”) uses a true story as the framework for this delirious tale of a young man missing a moral compass. Chalamet is mesmerizing in scene after scene, and there’s so much imagination stuffed into Marty Mauser’s story it could fuel a dozen Hollywood films.

Take that, A.I.!

It’s hard to like Chalamet’s Marty, but it’s impossible to deny he powered the most entertaining film of the year…

The current, horrific rise in antisemitism will be studied for years. Future generations can watch “October 8” to see how a calamitous terror attack actually made matters worse.

Director Wendy Sachs crafts a sobering look at Jew hatred across Western culture, with special attention paid to the halls of higher learning. “October 8” isn’t political, and that restraint is remarkable given the proclivities of the modern Democratic party.

It’s all the better for keeping partisanship off camera. This is a story everyone must watch and learn from, or we’ll get a second, harrowing round of “never again” regrets.

We may be there already…

The HBO series “Crashing” captured what it takes to become a stand-up comedian. It’s not for the faint of heart.

The male protagonist in “Is This Thing On?” doesn’t set out to become a comedian. He just needs someplace, anyplace, to vent about his impending divorce.

So when Will Arnett’s character finds himself at the Comedy Cellar’s open mic night, some unexpected magic happens.

The “comedy as therapy” approach works wonders for director Bradley Cooper’s latest, even if his supporting character in the story is its weakest element. This honest look at relationships, featuring yet another killer turn by Laura Dern, proves fresh and insightful…

Rom-coms generate plenty of derisive reviews, and deservedly so. Even “hit” rom-coms have their flaws, like the daffy 2023 breakthrough “Anyone But You.”

So director Celine Song decided to ease up on the comedy for “Materialists,” a smart look at a love triangle that’s all too relevant to our times. A better than expected Dakota Johnson plays a high-end matchmaker torn between her old beau (Chris Evans) and a wealthy rival (Pedro Pascal).

What happens next is smart and satisfying, and while the rom-com tropes are familiar, the intellectual way Song approaches them is anything but…

Zach Cregger’s “Barbarian” offered a benign title along with something of a tease. The film was far from perfect, but this guy “gets” horror. Where has he been hiding? Turns out the comic actor-turned-auteur is merely a late bloomer, and his 2025 masterpiece “Weapons” proves it.

The tale of a town where all the children in a particular class go missing – save one – sets a delirious movie in motion. The stars are all aligned on Cregger’s behalf, including Julia Garner and Josh Brolin, but it’s the startling turn by Amy Madigan that sets this sucker ablaze.

We’ll say no more about her Aunt Gladys character for those who haven’t seen “Weapons” yet.

Cregger uses a non-traditional approach that not only clicks but makes the madness to follow even more explosive…

Ryan Coogler took a break from the MCU to reinvent the vampire movie.

“Sinners” casts Michael B. Jordan and Michael B. Jordan as brothers hellbent on starting a juke joint in 1930s-era South. That setup allows Coogler and co. to riff on racism, cultural stereotypes and the healing power of music.

Then, mid-way through, a vampire movie breaks out. And a great one, at that.

Coogler knows enough horror movie tropes to implode them while keeping the scares intact. Yes, the film’s ending is far from perfect, but everything up until that disappointing coda is so very good it doesn’t matter…

Hollywood refused to copy, clone or otherwise riff on 2022’s “Top Gun: Maverick.” So it took that film’s director to handle the chore himself.

Yes, Joseph Kosinski’s “F1” isn’t about a brash fighter pilot seeking middle-age redemption against all odds. The film follows a brash driver seeking middle-age redemption against all odds.

If the formula ain’t broke, don’t even try fixing it.

Kosinski does nothing of the kind, leaning on Brad Pitt’s star power as the story’s NOS. Pitt’s character has a young rival (Damson Idris) a la “Maverick,” along with a love interest (Kerry Condon) who sparks his life off the track.

What follows is pure exhilaration, from the camera work that deposits us in the driver’s seat to the old-school populism touching every scene. Pitt’s character even prays at one point in the story.

It’s not as good as “Top Gun: Maverick,” but “F1” comes close enough to matter.

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Powerful ‘Anemone’ Highlights This Legend’s Startling Return

Ronan Day-Lewis’ “Anemone” is a directorial debut that touts a return to film acting by star Daniel Day-Lewis.

It could have potentially been an unwise, self-indulgent father/son collaboration.

After all, when your dad is considered one of the greatest living film actors of all time and famously stated his last filmed performance was in 2017 (in no less than a Paul Thomas Anderson film), the danger is that this film won’t measure up to impossible expectations.

Despite a few bumps, “Anemone” emerges as a poetic, intense and visually astonishing film. Both father and son Day-Lewis have something to take pride in this Christmas.

We meet Jem Stoker (Sean Bean), who is struggling with the actions of Brian, his troubled teenage son (Samuel Bottomley) and tries to calm his shell-shocked wife (Samantha Morton). We initially don’t know what Brian did, only that it’s serious enough that Jem takes off on a journey into the woods to find the one person whom Brian could talk to: Jem’s estranged father, Ray (Daniel Day-Lewis).

Ray is living off the grid and can barely contain how caustic and ferocious he is.

For the first 20 minutes, there’s no dialogue. When the conversation finally arrives, there’s initially a lot of talk about fecal matter, an easy way to generate shock. As the story progresses, generally as a two-hander, it emerges as a profane take on “Waiting for Godot.”

Day-Lewis’ performance is controlled, devoid of his habit for grandstanding but riveting as ever. What Day-Lewis does here is closer in tone to the work in his best vehicle, “In the Name of the Father” (1993) and not the grandstanding tendencies of his Oscar vehicles, “There Will Be Blood” (2007) and “Gangs of New York” (2002).

Bean matches him scene for scene and more than holds his own. The two make every word and gesture count.

“Anemone” explores how catharsis can manifest and if it’s even possible after so many years of lost time and steady animosity. Heavy topics arise, like the Irish Republican Army and military actions against them, but the focus overall is on the impact of choice.

While the story pauses for some tough monologues and arresting visions, it never feels like easy melodrama or anything remotely formulaic.

Many have noted the wild occurrence that takes place in the third act – the sequence will divide some, but I found it a bold touch the film earns. I won’t spoil it, but will say this – because the film is exploring family tensions and struggles in a relatable and probing fashion, the decision to include a mythic disruption feels in line with everything else here.

This is Ronan Day-Lewis’ stunning directorial debut. I hope his film career is long and steady, as this is one of the best films of 2025. It’s also one of my favorite films that Day-Lewis has starred in.

Perhaps that means his announced retirement from acting is belated or maybe this is now his final film. If the latter is the case, then this is one hell of a great performance to leave us with.

Four Stars

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‘Train Dreams’ Is One-Way Ticket to Snoozeville

Clint Bentley’s “Train Dreams” is about the life of Robert Granier, played by Joel Edgerton, who works the railroad during the early 20th century and lives to be 80 years old.

His final words at the end of the film are, “Beautiful ain’t it? Just beautiful.” That sums up how I feel about the film overall. “Train Dreams” sure is purty to look at, and it’s duller than a pile of dirt.

This period drama reflects on the optimism and struggles of those living during the early 1900s, and how the industry and obstacles changed for the entire world. Granier is ably played by Edgerton, whose character is a sort of stand-in for long-suffering, working-class types who believe hard work can lead to a good life.

Edgerton reminded me of my grandfather and some of the values he carried with him until the end of his life. Yet, the actor can only do so much with his character, more a symbol of American possibilities than anything else.

Despite how good Edgerton is here (and when is that not the case?), the film is stolen by William H. Macy, playing an explosives expert on Granier’s team of workers. Macy has all the best lines and walks away with the film in a role that is little more than an extended cameo.

If you’ve seen “Days of Heaven” (1978), then you’ve already watched a vastly superior version of this movie. There are also visuals suggesting aspects of “Badlands” (1973), “The New World” (2005) and “The Tree of Life” (2011), all films by Terrence Malick.

“Train Dreams” is obviously a Malick movie clone, minus the poetry and mystery. The narration spills everything out, providing literal observations that are unnecessary. The contrast to the stale narration here is that the narration in Malick’s film’s provide the inner thoughts and private realizations of the characters, not fodder to push the story along and cater to the audience’s attention span.

A late subplot in which Granier reconnects with a missing family member is impactful, but it’s a fleeting bit that arrives too late.

What I was left with are lots of beautiful shots that could be framed and lovingly hung over a fireplace. The costumes, sets and music are all on the same level as the cinematography, which is the highest praise I could give.

The final scenes are too on the nose, too obvious. Everything about this is familiar, not only in the way it demonstrates that, yes, Bentley is a fan of Malick’s but also in the limitations of the story.

Say what you will about Ron Howard’s commercial, uneven Irish epic “Far and Away” (1992) but it created more suspense, immediacy and rising stakes than anything here.

I get it, Malick is a genius, one of the few poet filmmakers still among us. On the other hand, his approach comes across as pretty wallpaper if there’s no psychological texture and applicable symbolism going on.

Malick’s films look like memories, whereas filmmakers who copy Malick’s style tend to nail the rich visuals but lack the art behind it. Kind of like all the filmmakers who envy Stanley Kubrick but cannot come close to matching his work.

Two Stars (out of four)

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‘We Bury the Dead’ Offers Somber Spin on Zombie Craze

We’re due for an old-fashioned, no-nonsense zombie movie in the grand George A. Romero tradition.

The last decade has brought Zom-coms, undead musicals, micro-indie shockers and other spins on the zombie menace. Anything but a straightforward tale of brain-chomping ghouls.

“We Bury the Dead” isn’t interested in old-school zombie thrills. Instead, the somber story delivers a treatise on healing as much as a horror.

Yes, the undead litter the landscape, but writer/director Zak Hilditch has other plans for his bedraggled characters. What emerges won’t quicken your pulse, but it might make you look at loss in a whole new way. It’s a shame that Hilditch isn’t always sure which style of zombie movie he’s making.

Daisy Ridley, no stranger to genre films in her post-“Star Wars” life, stars as Ava. Her character volunteers to identify bodies following a U.S. Military accident that unleashed a new type of weapon off Australia’s coast.

The EMP-like device brought death and destruction on a major scale. Now, it’s up to the military to pick up the pieces, with an assist from brave volunteers.

Ava signs up for personal reasons. Her husband (Matt Whelan) is presumed dead following the accidental attack, and she needs to see the body for closure.

Or is it more complicated than that?

She’s joined by a seemingly dense volunteer named Clay (Brenton Thwaites), who treats the work as casually as a McDonald’s fry cook. They couldn’t be more different, but he’s open to helping her get to where her husband was last seen.

Will military officials let them happen? And what about the dead bodies that, according to early reports, refuse to stay dead?

Hilditch (“1922”) knows how to uncork a grisly zombie sequence. He also leverages the undead for maximum creeps. “Dead” is akin to a “Paranormal Activity” film where it pays to watch every part of the screen at all times.

It’s often worth our while.

More of Queen Daisy Ridley at The Kelly Clarkson show as she talks about horror films & a clip from We Bury The Dead‍#DaisyRidley #WeBuryTheDead pic.twitter.com/LPF1gKJhRI

— Daisy Ridley is queen! (@Scavenger_Jakku) December 16, 2025

The poor undead here click and grind their teeth, a sound that’s unnerving at first and never loses its shock value. Neither do the spare FX, including zombie close-ups that offer a stark departure from the usual undead aesthetic.

Except this isn’t a typical survivalist yarn or blood-drenched affair. Ridley’s Ava is inconsolable, and she must see her husband one last time. She’s even holding out hope that he’s one of the victims who may spring back to life, even if said life is little more than a grunting spectre of his old self.

“We Bury the Dead” offers a grounded, tonally dark character study that demands plenty of its lead actress. Ridley is up to the task, even if the screenplay can’t always say the same.

It can be … dull, without enough backstory or character development to sustain our interest. The most intriguing element is something the movie unveils in methodical fashion. Ava’s marriage may not be as picture-perfect as those flashbacks suggest.

The film proves superior to “Handling the Undead,” knowing that even a stoic genre film needs the occasional jolt to keep the stakes elevated. One such scene, teased in the trailer, shows Hilditch can uncork a dizzying set piece on par with the best zombie auteurs.

It’s so good, in fact, that we’re left teetering between B-movie thrills and a haunting portrait of grief. At its best, “We Bury the Dead” finds common ground between the disparate styles, offering a zombie tale well worth your time.

HiT or Miss: “We Bury the Dead” offers a textured look at grief and healing, all through the lens of a zombie-like outbreak.

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‘Avatar: Fire and Ash’ Won’t Save Mother Earth

James Cameron is a genius.

If we didn’t know it after “Aliens” (1986), “Terminator: Judgment Day” (1991) and “Titanic” (1997), it’s clear after a trio of “Avatar” films.

Geniuses, alas, aren’t perfect.

Cameron’s eco-saga offers so many flaws that it’s hard to process them in one sitting. Visually magnificent and narratively sloppy, the saga shows no signs of improvement via “Avatar: Fire and Ash.”

It’s a mess. Yet you can’t look away, and Cameron’s refusal to give up on 3D may be its key selling point.

We pick up the saga shortly after the events of “Avatar: The Way of Water.” The Sully clan is still mourning the loss of Neteyam (Jamie Flatters), the family’s oldest son. The clan appears at peace all the same, but the evil/wicked/monstrous Colonel Quaritch (the great Stephen Lang) hasn’t given up the fight.

He’s still hell bent on taking over Pandora and setting up shop to make millions. That Military Industrial Complex doesn’t happen by itself, ya know.

This time, the Colonel teams with the leader of a fractured tribe known as the Ash people, led by Varang (Oona Chaplin). She’s a force of nature, cunning and deceptive.

Man, those ones and zeroes can make movie magic.

Together, they pose an even more dangerous threat to the Na’vi, and it will take the planet’s peace-loving members to find a way to thwart their latest attack.

If this all sounds familiar, it should.

RELATED: KARMA COMES FOR JAMES CAMERON’S ‘AVATAR’ SAGA

The elements trotted out here replicate some of the last film’s story. And, to a lesser extent, “Avatar.” It’s not uncommon for a franchise to repeat key elements, but at three hours and 15-odd minutes that repetition is, well, unconscionable.

Why would an artist like Cameron essentially copy himself, spending endless dollars in the process? His mission with the “Avatar” saga is to make audiences rethink their connection to Mother Earth.

That’s simplistic and noble, but his films are increasingly detached from that messaging. “Fire and Ash” isn’t as heavy-handed as before, but mostly because the lectures feel familiar at this point.

They didn’t move the pop culture needle the first time. There’s little chance that will change with Chapter 3.

What’s maddening this time around is the Quaritch/Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) tension. These mortal enemies squabble and fight, but it seems perfunctory at this point. At one key moment, they lay down their theoretical arms, as if Cameron himself isn’t sure why they’re still at each other’s throats.

This saga is exhausted, and even Cameron senses it.

The new film is once again overstuffed with characters, subplots and visual marvels, to the point where it deadens our senses. The first 10 minutes have us staring at the screen, our mouths agape at what Cameron and co. cooked up for our pleasure.

Digital trickery feels routine at this point. Not when you’re witnessing an “Avatar” spectacle.

That sense of wonder doesn’t last. At some point, we need compelling characters and a story that demands our attention. What we get are two marvelous villains, a crush of character beats that alternately impress and underwhelm and little sense of storytelling momentum.

Where is this all going? To the big battle, of course, just like in the first two films. If that’s a spoiler … then you don’t recognize franchise storytelling on autopilot.

And then there’s the dialogue. Some characters offer glib takes on life and native culture, a sop to spirituality and eco-worship. Take it or leave it, but “Fire and Ash” has a point of view and boasts a consistent approach here.

But Cameron, who co-wrote the script with Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver, can’t help ladling out 21st century colloquialisms which take us out of the story. Again and again.

Think Christopher Reeve seeing that shiny brown penny in “Somewhere in Time.”

Isn’t there anyone on the crew who can tap them on the shoulder and say, “Maybe this kind of corny banter is beneath your vision?” And then, of course, duck, because that might not end well for the person who says it.

Cameron’s genius infects every frame of “Avatar: Fire and Ash.” His inability to see his own flaws does, too.

Hit or Miss: “Avatar: Fire and Ash” introduces us to new villains, old friends we barely cared about in the first place and a story that’s both exhausting and familiar.

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‘Jay Kelly’ Gives Hollywood an Unflattering Closeup

Writer/director Noah Baumbach’s “Jay Kelly” depicts a celebrated movie star (George Clooney) as he tries to get his personal life together, while traveling to a prestigious film festival where he will receive a lifetime achievement award.

Clooney’s Jay Kelly has a team of assistants includes his loyal manager (Adam Sandler) and an annoyed publicist (Laura Dern). Along the way, Kelly reflects on his choice to pick his career over being a father and how he once aced a script reading that gave him a big break but ruined his friendship with a nervous, less prepared actor and former friend.

“Jay Kelly” is a self-congratulatory dud. Everything about it is low stakes, starting with the big incident (a fight at a bar) that is supposed to build towards a dramatic reconciliation but never does. In fact, this subplot is settled with a simple phone call and, like most of Kelly’s problems, just fades away.

The same goes for the father/daughter conflict, as everything is tidied up neatly in the everybody wins conclusion.

The real issue explored here is that Kelly’s team realizes that there’s a difference between being his actual friend versus being a part of the machine that creates his opportunities for success. Okay, but this is also wrapped up with hugs and a reminder that everyone visible is living a swanky existence based on the career of one man.

“Jay Kelly” is nearly plotless and ambles from one scene to another but without the rapid patter a farce about Hollywood needs. Everything about it is too slow, too chill and too low stakes, which is a problem when your film has no real tension but still manages to clock in at two and a half hours long.

It may surprise readers to know that I like most of Clooney’s films, don’t care about his life outside of his work as an actor and director and have forgiven him for once playing Batman. Nevertheless, halfway through “Jay Kelly,” I began to wonder with astonishment:

Does Clooney think he’s underrated?

 

 

 

 

 

 

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“Jay Kelly” may as well have just been titled Being George Clooney, as the character recalls that he arrived around the time of the “first ‘90210’” and, in a painfully shameless moment, Kelly stares at himself in a mirror and compares himself to Cary Grant.

Then there’s the much-discussed final scene where (not really a spoiler) Kelly watches a montage of his film work and, instead of it being fake clips starring the young actor who ably played Kelly early on, it’s all snippets from Clooney’s real film career.

It’s a bizarre choice, because it once again underlines how Clooney should have played “himself” instead of the thinly veiled Kelly and, seriously, are we supposed to get teary-eyed, as Clooney visibly does, looking at clips from “The Peacemaker” (2007) and “Leatherheads” (2008)?

Considering how Clooney did a 2012 Oscar roundtable interview where he bashed “The Thin Red Line” (1998) and writer/director Terrence Malick, bragging that he was glad to get cut out of most of the movie, it seems disingenuous to have that clip here.

For this movie to work, you need an actor with a long career that has had lots of ups and downs and was never as popular as Clooney, who is an Oscar winner, former People Magazine “Sexiest Man Alive” and played Danny Ocean three times.

No matter how you feel about Clooney, his film career is too much of a success story to merit a down-on-his-luck quasi-kinda-sorta-biopic.

Watching Mickey Rourke in “The Wrestler” (2008) is to witness an artist battle his past glories and missteps in raw self-analysis; here, I never bought it. Clooney has conveyed insecurity much better in other movies and typically appears more vulnerable during interviews when he laments about “Batman & Robin” (1997).

My easy picks for a Kelly recast would be Michael Douglas or Michael Keaton, only the former did this kind of late-career soul searching vehicle in “Solitary Man” (2009) and the latter already made the far more daring, thematically similar and superior “Birdman” (2024).

Here’s another idea: swap the roles played by Clooney and Sandler! Although now rightfully acknowledged as an astonishing dramatic actor, Sandler’s career early on had a hard-won trajectory – actually, scratch that, Sandler already did this kind of movie: Judd Apatow’s wonderful “Funny People” (2009).

Here’s another dread-inducing thought I had while watching “Jay Kelly”:

Has the monster success of “Barbie” (2023) spoiled Baumbach? Did co-writing that gigantic hit give Baumbach, formerly an industry outsider, an ongoing desire to find for mainstream acceptance?

It’s hard to believe that Baumbach, the author of bitter, defiantly unpleasant dramas that are a challenge for his actors as much as his audience, would want to make something this fluffy and inconsequential.

Where is the Baumbach who authored and directed the caustic “Greenberg” (2010) or the vicious “Margot at the Wedding” (2007) or the brutal “Marriage Story” (2019) and “The Squid and the Whale” (2005)? Baumbach opens “Jay Kelly” with a showy one-take shot that in no way matches, let alone deserves comparison to, the start of Robert Altman’s “The Player” (1992).

Baumbach’s latest is glossy and completely unnecessary.

The saving grace of “Jay Kelly” is Sandler who, once again, demonstrates that he has the heart of a character actor and, when tested, can play just about anyone.

If one is really needing to celebrate Clooney’s contribution to cinema, I recommend revisiting “Michael Clayton” (2007), “O Brother Where Art Thou?” (2000), “Up in the Air” (2009), “Out of Sight” (1998), “Solaris” (2002), “Three Kings” (1999), “The Descendants” (2011) and “Fantastic Mr. Fox” (2009).

I’d even throw in a forgotten gem like “The Good German” (2006). Clooney’s is terrific in all of those. At the opposite end, I’d pick “Ticket to Paradise” (2022) and this movie.

One and a half stars (out of four)

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The One Rob Reiner Classic That Gets Overlooked

“The Princess Bride.” “This Is Spinal Tap.” “Misery.” “Stand By Me.” “When Harry Met Sally.” “A Few Good Men.”

Director Rob Reiner leaves a dizzying legacy of movies behind following his Dec. 14 death. Early indications point to his grown son, Nick, as the person who allegedly killed both the director and his mother, Michele Reiner.

It’s a Hollywood tragedy of the first order.

Fans will spend days, even weeks, revisiting Reiner’s film canon, one that also includes solid entries like “The Bucket List,” “Ghosts of Mississippi,” “The American President” and “Albert Brooks: Defending My Life.”

One movie will get little mention in the crush of reports recalling his life and legacy – “The Sure Thing.”

The 1985 charmer didn’t get much love at the box office that year – a solid but unremarkable $18 million. It’s also pushed aside by Reiner’s other, iconic films.

Movies like “The Princess Bride” endure, inspire memes and capture the very best of populist Hollywood. It’s tough for any film to measure up. “This Is Spinal Tap” launched a wave of mockumentaries, from “Waiting for Guffman” to “Borat.”

Yet “The Sure Thing” is both raunchy and sweet, a singular rom-com with great chemistry and a keen understanding of the gender divide.

Walter “Gib” Gibson (Cusack) is having a hard time with the ladies at his new college. So when his old high school chum (Anthony “Talk to me, Goose” Edwards) invites him to visit his California campus, it comes with a tease.

There’s a “sure thing” waiting for Gib, the kind of girl who doesn’t take much to woo. ’nuff said.

RELATED: IS ROB REINER’S ‘MISERY’ THE BEST STEPHEN KING ADAPTATION?

Naturally, Gib falls in love en route to his dream girl. His road trip partner, Alison (Daphne Zuniga), is buttoned-up and cerebral. She’s also in a committed relationship with an older man (Boyd Gaines).

They’re a terrible match, at least on paper.

Funny things can happen when you’re crossing the country, losing your money and fending off show tune-loving drivers.

“The Sure Thing” showed Reiner’s gift for comedy and ability to wring winning performances from young stars. It’s the proverbial movie they couldn’t make today, even though the story eschews the bawdy template set in motion by the plot (and title).

The sad part? According to JustWatch.com, there’s no current way to stream “The Sure Thing.” Your best bet is to pick it up on Blu-ray or DVD.

It’s well worth the investment.

Reiner’s place in Hollywood history is etched in stone, and “The Sure Thing” is one of many reasons why.

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How ‘Henry & June’ Made Most of Its NC-17 Label

Philip Kaufman’s “Henry & June” (1990) was the first film given an NC-17 rating.

It remains one of the few studio-backed films to openly, unashamedly explore sexual topics and has lost none of its ability to shock.

For a movie now 30 years old, Kaufman’s film remains a rich portrait of artists in pursuit of literary greatness.
When we meet Anais Nin (Maria de Medeiros), she is playful and uninhibited in some ways but shy and reserved in others. She is a striking, talented writer and the wife to the kindhearted Hugo (Richard A Grant).

When Nin meets the outspoken, rowdy and similarly talented Henry Miller (Fred Ward), their professional collaborations and social encounters eventually become a sexual relationship. Initially a secret from Hugo, the private encounters between Nin and Miller are also something they try to keep a secret from Miller’s wife, the outspoken June (Uma Thurman).

“Henry & June” is a lot to take and not just in the abundance of frequent verbal and visual eroticism. Sometimes the erotic moments feel like proper extensions of the characters, at other times, you can feel Kaufman testing the audience and ratings board in a game of chicken.

To Kaufman’s credit, his film comes across more as classy than the crass, self-consciously sleazy “erotic thrillers” that overwhelmed the decade. Yet, just how many sex scenes one is comfortable watching over the course of two hours will be tested by casual viewers expecting this to be more like Kaufman’s acclaimed but seriously overrated “The Unbearable Lightness of Being” (1988).

Exquisite and self-consciously risk-taking as Kaufman’s film is, “Henry & June” isn’t perfect nor definitive. The lives of Miller and Nin went far beyond the timeline presented here, as Miller’s works post-“Tropic of Cancer” were extensive.

Likewise, Nin’s diary, which she started writing when she was 11 years old, covered decades of her life. To put it mildly, as thorough a character study as they get here, only a documentary could likely do justice to their overall reach and achievements.

As a film about Miller and Nin, “Henry & June” remains the only current, authoritative work. The little remembered “Tropic of Cancer” (1970), starring Rip Torn as Miller, remains out of print.

With characters this larger than life, I suspect a documentary, which wouldn’t test the inhibitions and broader instincts of actors, may be the best way to tell this story. Or, perhaps, if a different time were chosen as the setting – having read Nin’s diary when I was in college, the years of 1937-1947 were among the most surprising and richest in the collection.

Kaufman’s film finally hits a wall in the third act, when June returns as the focus and the story hammers us with melodrama and histrionics. It’s an ironic misdirection that a film about writers would lose its way by suddenly coming across as so blatantly written.

FAST FACT: Director Philip Kaufman’s second film, 1967’s “Fearless Frank,” is notable for the first screen appearance by future Oscar winner Jon Voight.

I find “Henry & June” utterly fascinating, in the way it is so fearless about portraying the personal lives of risk-baiting writers and how it is a prestigious period film that, nevertheless, isn’t afraid of alienating its audience. I’m fascinated that Alec Baldwin was once cast as Miller, then dropped out and was replaced by Ward, who I find perfect for the part.

I’m fascinated that Ward did this movie right after “Tremors” and is such a good actor he doesn’t seem out of place in either movie.

Finally, I’m fascinated that the NC-17 rating had a good run that began with this movie and continued with films like Almodovar’s “Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!” (also 1990) and a handful of others. There was clearly a need for the NC-17.

Look, whether you have an adult guardian or not, there are some movies that kids should not be able to see in a theater, period. The lack of a babysitter or the feeling that a 9-year-old “can take it” doesn’t justify taking a small child to see an R-rated movie.

I love the idea of the NC-17 rating and suspect filmmakers loved it too, as they didn’t have to worry about being censored.

What killed the NC-17 rating? In one word: “Showgirls” (1995), the lavish, envelope-pushing erotic drama that was supposed to be the film that pushed the NC-17 into the mainstream.

Instead, the film was a laughingstock with critics and audiences, who abandoned it after a single weekend. “Showgirls” wasn’t just expensive and “sleazy,” it was an embarrassment. Yes, director Paul Verhoeven recovered from the debacle, and “Showgirls” is a major cult film today, but its high-profile failure is what killed the NC-17 rating.

Did we really need that rating to persist? Yes, absolutely.

The summer of 1999, for example, had “South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut,” “American Pie” and “Eyes Wide Shut,” all rated R and reportedly created trouble for theater owners who struggled to keep underage audiences from seeing them. Look, young people will find ways to see cinematic forbidden fruit and now, with the internet allowing dozens of possibilities, guarding underage audiences from movies R and up has become impossible.

Nevertheless, the idea of the NC-17 rating, which wasn’t aligned with “dirty” movies but filmmakers who didn’t want to prune their works down to a more mainstream cut, was a good one.

“Henry & June,” which was successful, critically acclaimed and Oscar nominated, was a solid test case for the rating and, more importantly, a great film on its own.

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‘Sheltering Sky’ Still a Gorgeous, Maddening Affair

Bernardo Bertolucci’s “The Sheltering Sky” (1990) is set in North Africa of 1947 and filmed in the Sahara Desert, Morocco and Algeria.

It’s based on Paul Bowles’ 1949 novel and plays like a depressed David Lean epic.

When we meet Kit and Porter, played by Debra Winger and John Malkovich, they’re attractive, young, well attired and have been on vacation for quite some time. “We’re tourists, not travelers,” they tell us and announce, without irony, that they “might not come back at all.”

Campbell Scott plays Tunner, the third wheel, an irritating travel companion who only seems somewhat aware of how irritating Kit and Porter find him.

The fascinating but unlikable Kit and Porter aren’t traveling just to find transcendence; they’re bored and would rather push onward to another spot than face the state of their unsteady marriage.

Bowles appears as The Narrator. It’s a weird cameo, as we hear his narration, a means of getting more of his great prose into the film, but his lips never move. The narration comes across as his inner monologue but, because he is never identified, those unaware that they’re looking at Paul Bowles may wonder who this mystical old man is and why he’s in the movie.

A “making of” documentary declared the film, without irony, a “producer’s nightmare.” Bertolucci and Mark Peoples wrote the screenplay, which attempts to be as faithful to the novel as possible.

This is Bertolucci basking in the Oscars and box office success of “The Last Emperor” (1987), leaning into his reputation as an exquisite director who takes on provocative, challenging material. Bertolucci paints his visual canvas like the artist he is and has a true master capturing the many visions on hand.

Vittorio Storaro’s cinematography matches the grandeur and elegance of “Lawrence of Arabia” (1962). This is one of the dreamiest, most superbly photographed films I’ve ever seen. The music and imagery are celebrated, while the rest will test your patience, whether you’ve read the book or not.

“The Sheltering Sky” is flush with imagery I’m happy to revisit, mixed with unpleasant melodrama that is hard to watch, followed by more visual splendor and back to more melodrama.

For a film so lavish and intricately detailed, it often feels like it’s a coasting, downbeat travelogue. The novel often found enough internal insight and nuance to contrast this, whereas the film struggles when the characters aren’t touring their new environments.

When the film fails, it seems as airless and unceasing as Kit and Porter’s voyage. When it soars, however, there are riches here to experience at least once.

35th Anniversary: THE SHELTERING SKY (1990) Bernardo Bertolucci pic.twitter.com/BCr8pl4FhD

— Cinema Phenomenology (@phenocine) October 25, 2025

It begins with a gorgeous crane shot, with the camera flying upwards into New York. The celebrated scene and famous single take of Winger walking up a sand dune, with miles of desert behind her, is sublime.

So are the sequences of travel parties making their way through desert landscapes, with not a footprint or sign of life in sight. Or the shot of camels sitting around after a long day’s walk through miles of sand.

Winger and Malkovich were at the top of their fields here and succeed at achieving what the screenplay requires at surface level, but they fail to bring true nuance and pathos to their characters, which the film sorely needed.

The third act is nightmarish, but it would be even more harrowing with actors who connected with Kit and Porter’s humanity. Winger and Malkovich are compelling and work hard, but they’re playing snobs and little more.

Bertolucci makes Tunner and the audience a tourist along for the ride, which is sometimes captivating and often a test of our patience. Every off-putting scene with Timothy Spall’s grotesque caricature makes me grateful for the long passages of travel.

“The Sheltering Sky” is stronger as a visual journey through a lost time than a proper exploration of a failing marriage and the couple’s doomed adventures. Bowles’ novel isn’t unfilmable, as some have complained, but for all the intense acting and narration on hand, the film never fully penetrates the aching heart of its characters.

FAST FACT: Bernardo Bertolucci’s father, a film reviewer, exposed the future Oscar winner to the art form at an early age. Bertolucci shot his first two short films at 15. 

The first time I read Bowles’ novel was on a long train ride from Colorado to Oregon. I sat in a train car with massive windows and long couches, providing a space for passengers wanting to read (the most popular car on the train, without much competition, was the one designated for Smoking).

Although the story is sad and the narrative developments of Kit and Porter are tragic, I sat enraptured, taking my time to finish the novel. It remains one of my favorite books.

The last words in the film are uttered as thoughts from Bowles himself. This passage appears early in the novel and was intriguingly repositioned to conclude the film. Because I love it so much, having read and re-read it often, here it is, in full:

“Because we don’t know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well.
Things happen only a certain amount of times. And a small number, really.

How many times will you remember an afternoon of your childhood…an afternoon so deeply a part of you that you can’t be without it? Perhaps four or five times more? Perhaps not even that.
How many times will you watch the moon rise? Perhaps 20. Yet, it all seems limitless.”

-Paul Bowles, “The Sheltering Sky”

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‘Rosemead’ Brings Us Too Close to Real-World Horrors

Lucy Liu’s dramatic performance is a reason to see “Rosemead,” a ruthless, often punishing true-life drama.

Liu stars as Irene, a struggling mother whose teenage son, Joe (Lawrence Shou), has been acting bizarrely in school. Initially, some dark moments from Joe’s past appear to be the culprit, as revealed in family therapy sessions.

We see how Joe’s interest in school shootings and infamous massacres becomes an obsession. While Irene’s health is declining, she dedicates her time to her son and strives to find a way to stop his escalating behavior and possibly save him from himself.

Sadly, this is based on a horrifying true story.

The lead performances by Liu and especially Shou as her son are dramatically rich, but the story puts us in a weird place – you either await something bad to happen or hope that someone intervenes in time.

In addition to how discomforting the premise is, it also presents Irene’s struggle with cancer. Because this is a true story, I want to give the film a break, as this is a lot for one movie. So is the use of images of real-life shooters.

Maybe discomforting is the wrong word and queasy is the right one.

Perhaps I’m being oversensitive, but I can’t overlook the ick factor, let alone the feeling of exploitation, when watching a movie that is all too happy to horrify us and little else. Having lived in Colorado when the Columbine High School and Aurora movie theater shootings occurred, it strikes me as bad taste to have a movie bringing us this up, unless you have a damned good reason outside of shock value.

I don’t want to see another photo of the monster who shot up that Aurora, Colorado movie theater again, let alone in a movie theater, in addition to the portrait of a man obsessed with school shooters, while his mom is trying to hide her cancer diagnosis. Even Lars von Trier knows when to make us stop yelling “Uncle!”

Minor spoiler ahead that should come as no surprise: the ending is very hard to take. I don’t mean that as a dare, the way I’d write about a shocker ending of a horror movie or a big twist in a suspense thriller. No, the ending of “Rosemead” intends to gut punch us and succeeds.

The performances are admirable all around, but the film generates suspense over whether one of the main characters will become a school shooter. Does this sound like a movie you want to see, let alone one we need?

Whatever the intentions of the filmmakers were, a part of me refuses to overlook how icky and manipulative “Rosemead” feels. I wasn’t a fan of Gus Van Sant’s “Elephant” (2003), either, despite the critical acclaim and reception at the Cannes Film Festival.

A note to the filmmakers: diving headfirst into human muck isn’t the same thing as properly exploring it, let alone explaining it and providing necessary insight. This doesn’t play like a cautionary tale but a grim reenactment of a terrible incident.

Thankfully, it’s closer to “’night Mother” (1986) than “We Need to Talk About Kevin” (2011). Still, “Rosemead” wallows in ugliness and, in a matter-of-fact manner, dishes out tragedy, without offering much perspective.

If “Rosemead” leads to valuable post-screening conversations about its uncomfortable subject matter, then the film will have done its job. I applaud the actors, but hope to never see this one again.

Two Stars

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‘Hamnet’ Is This Year’s Oscar-Bait Sob Fest

No, that’s not a typo: Chloé Zhao’s “Hamnet” is the story of how William Shakespeare came to write “Hamlet,” with the title a reference to the name of the Bard’s son.

I’m getting ahead of myself. Zhao’s blend of character-driven cinema, punctuated by dreamy visions of vast landscapes, has made her a critic’s favorite.

Zhao garnered the Best Director and Best Picture Oscars for “Nomadland” (2020), which appeared to usher her into an exciting second act as a film artist. Marvel’s “Eternals” (2021) followed “Nomadland” and proved to be, without much competition, the most unliked work in the MCU, with a massive running time and auteur touches at odds with fan expectations.

I’m not defending “Eternals,” but I suspect that, over time, it will be reappraised as one of the most interesting misses in the studio’s history. Her latest is already awash in great reviews and Oscar talk, but let me be frank – If I had to choose between watching “Hamnet” again or binge watching “Eternals” three times in a row, then more “Eternals,” please!

“Hamnet” stars Paul Mescal playing William Shakespeare as a young man with a vicious father and a miserable upbringing. Shakespeare is immediately twitterpated by Agnes (Jessie Buckley), and the two express their love mostly by frolicking in the forest.

When Agnes discovers she’s pregnant, the couple becomes Mr. and Mrs. Shakespeare, have kids and live happily ever after.

Just kidding.

The second and third act of the film grind down the audience in sorrow, but the film doesn’t earn the tears it tries to acquire by shaking us and just stopping short of turning us upside and smacking pepper into our eyes. “Hamnet” is less an exploration of the grief that awaits the Shakespeare family and more of an extended, filmed acting exercise. You read that right.

Zhao’s cinematographer ensures that we gaze at every moment of agony, internal or otherwise, that comes in the form of inducing labor, illness and experiencing loss. We witness so much horrible stuff; only Shakespeare’s “Titus Andronicus” is a bigger bummer to endure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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“Hamnet” is a slog, full of melodrama and scenes of actors resorting to histrionics that likely resulted in sore throats or loss of voice for at least a few days. I love actors and want to give them a break, especially if they’ve been good before, but they come up short in their latest venture.

After all, I don’t know if I’m seeing them at their best or if misdirection, a poor editing choice or perhaps a bad take undermines their work. Here, I felt bludgeoned by Buckley’s work, which, like Rose Byrne in “If I Had Legs, I’d Kick You” and Jennifer Lawrence in “Die My Love,” appears to be a failed attempt to top Isabelle Adjani’s hall of fame breakdown of a turn in “Possession” (1981).

Like Vanessa Kirby’s performance in “Pieces of a Woman” (2020), I admired how hard everyone is trying, how the look-at-me rawness of the acting is undeniable, but I left the film unmoved.

It’s Buckley’s movie, though Mescal, in addition to failing to connect with Shakespeare, makes some puzzling early choices (why is he smiling so much, particularly during the bleak beginning?).

The camera as a traveling eye is the most interesting touch, as striking sets or exteriors are shot in a way to suggest the eye is searching for details. Shakespeare fans can forget about feeling connected to the Bard’s inner life and work, as some awkward (and, frankly, implausible) rehearsal scenes and a few line drops of iambic pentameter aren’t enough for this to compete with “Shakespeare in Love” (1998).

The ending is too much; I love “Hamlet” and once played the Danish Prince in my younger years. There is joy and excitement, plus wit and genuine humor in the works of Shakespeare. This film leans in on ferocious scenes of tragedy, then laughably attempts to uplift us at the very end.

In the past two months, I’ve endured Mescal and Buckley in this, Byrne in “If I Had Legs, I’d Kick You,” Lucy Liu in “Rosemead,” and Lawrence and Robert Pattinson in “Die My Love,” not to mention the cast of the forthcoming hard-to-watch Oscar hopeful “Sirāt.”

My question is – is there a support group for actors who spill their thespian guts out for a movie but don’t win an Oscar?

One and a half stars (out of four)

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‘Silent Night, Deadly Night’ Won’t Scare a Soul

Modern movies rarely cause a stir like “Silent Night, Deadly Night” did in 1984.

The low-budget shocker showed a serial killer dressed as ol’ St. Nick slicing and dicing his way through the holidays. Many Americans recoiled at the imagery.

Even Siskel & Ebert cried foul.

“I would like to hear the filmmakers explain to their children and their grandchildren that it’s only a movie.” – Roger Ebert.

Now, bloody Santas are part of the Yuletide tradition – make of that what you will.

So “Silent Night, Deadly Night” has its work cut out for it. The remake takes the “Dexter” route, imagining the psychologically scarred killer as a vigilante sorting out who’s naughty and nice.

What’s missing? Genuine scares, for starters. 

Young Billy witnesses his parents’ murder in a chilling prologue. The lad, permanently scarred by the attack, takes on the spirit of the killer.

Said killer was dressed as Santa Claus for some reason. Now, an adult Billy (an effective Rohan Campbell) hacks people to death while wearing the same red and white ensemble.

The fluffy white fur quickly turns red with blood, of course.

He’s egged on by Charlie (Mark Acheson of “Elf” fame), a voice in his head that coaxes him to kill without getting himself caught. It’s a fascinating element to bring to the remake, and Acheson’s voice is the movie’s chief selling point.

Billy finds work at a Mom and Pop-style convenience store where he meets Pam (Ruby Modine, daughter of Matthew). The two unexpectedly click, but can Billy keep his hobby a secret from her?

Or is she even more twisted than Billy?

First poster for the ‘SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT’ remake.

In theaters on December 12. pic.twitter.com/mKHEcDGck6

— DiscussingFilm (@DiscussingFilm) October 16, 2025

Add a jealous ex-boyfriend, a separate serial killer and a Nazi hoedown and you have more elements than necessary for a slasher film.

Those Nazis suggest the film’s desperate quest to offend. It’s a murder-palooza that’s indifferently choreographed, unnecessary and politically timid.

Ooooh, our antihero is killing Nazis! You know who ELSE is a Nazi? There’s no overt political nods here, but it still feels safe, not subversive.

The segment does end with one of the film’s better “kills,” for what that’s worth.

Writer/director Mike P. Nelson (the tepid “Wrong Turn” reboot) gets the most from his cast, from the leads to supplemental players. The Christmas tunes add some snark to the proceedings, too.

Campbell and Modine share genuine chemistry as extremely lost souls desperate for a life line. Too bad the film’s horror beats keep getting in the way. That shouldn’t be an issue for a genre film, but the generic murders and milquetoast subplots barely sustain our interest.

Had “Silent Night, Deadly Night” leaned into its bloody rom-com DNA it might have made more sense.

As is, the remake offers a twisted alternative to Rudolph, Buddy the Elf and the Snow Miser. If that’s your speed this holiday season, it’s better to stick with “Bad Santa,” “Violent Night” and “Krampus” and skip one mediocre “Night.”

HiT or Miss: “Silent Night, Deadly Night” isn’t offensive like the 1984 original. It’s also not interesting enough to get outraged about.

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‘Family McMullen’ – Comfort Food Direct from the ’90s

Edward Burns never stopped making films, even after his “next Woody Allen” branding fell flat.

Burns’ 1995 drama “The Brothers McMullen” explored his Irish Catholic heritage in warm and witty ways. It felt fresh, even exciting, and the press dubbed him New York’s next indie auteur.

Except his bright Hollywood career eventually faded. Burns refused to quit, continuing to make movies on smaller budgets that spoke to his creative muse. In a way, he showed what storytellers can do when the Hollywood marketplace pivots to superhero films and undead IPs.

Keep. On. Shooting.

So it makes sense that his latest project recalls his breakout work. “The Family McMullen” is time well spent with old friends, even though said friends have flaws that never went away.

It’s much like the man pulling the strings.

Burns returns as Barry AKA Finbar, a 50-something Irish Catholic dad suddenly hosting not one but two of his grown children again. Also under the roof? Brother Patrick (Michael McGlone), who still holds tight to Catholic doctrine, unlike his wisecracking brother.

There’s chaos aplenty but also lots of love, and Barry is overjoyed to have his brood back together. And the lads could use some fatherly wisdom.

That’s assuming Barry has any to dole out.

Charismatic Tommy (Pico Alexander) wants to give acting a try, but before he can nail his first audition he falls for Karen (Juliana Canfield, “Succession”). They’re both aggressively single, but they can’t stop pawing at each other.

Life always gets in the way, right?

Patty (Halston Sage) is engaged, but her beau suggests they take a calculated break to date other people. Huh? It’s the kind of line only a guy could attempt, framing it as getting those wild oats sown before exchanging “I do’s.”

There’s more, too, including returning “McMullen” player Connie Britton as Molly McMullen, now a widow eager to stay in the clan’s good gracesfds. Plus, Karen’s mom (Tracee Ellis Ross) is Barry’s old flame, and those embers still have plenty of heat.

“I started as a writer, then a director, and became an actor by default. When the parts got less rewarding, I bowed out.”

Edward Burns talks to @djmecca about his independent filmmaking spirit, ‘The Family McMullen,’ his most underrated movies, and more: https://t.co/nCcZKghirb pic.twitter.com/XzX1mzlPnq

— The Film Stage (@TheFilmStage) December 4, 2025

Burns’ screenplay isn’t Allen-level funny – they never rose to that exalted level, even back in the ’90s. The dialogue is sharp enough to convey these flawed souls and their aspirations, and along the way, some life lessons peek through the maelstrom.

The romantic subplots line up perfectly, albeit too perfectly, to keep the story humming. Some twists feel organic, enhanced by the Irish Catholic culture in play. A little guilt goes a long way.

Other shifts feel too manufactured to steer us to the inevitable third-act confrontations. The fortunate reunions come at us at breakneck speed.

The standouts here are Alexander and Canfield, brimming with star appeal and undeniable chemistry. Nearly as good are Burns and McGlone, at least when it’s time to spar. Their brotherly banter feels like 1995 was yesterday, not 30 years ago.

Gulp.

Sequels serve as comfort food for the cinematic soul, the chance to revisit old friends and see what’s changed since the last time we met. Turns out we didn’t know we missed the McMullens, or Burns’ sly way with storytelling, as much as we did.

HiT or Miss: “The Family McMullen” proves there’s still a spot for understated family dramas shot on a shoestring budget. Phew.

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