‘I Love Boosters’ – Weird, Wonderful and Fearlessly Original

Boots Riley’s “I Love Boosters” is a work of pure creative freedom, mainstream cinema at its most unhinged.

This is what happens when a filmmaker allows their imagination to go wherever it wants at the screenplay level, then makes a film that doesn’t hold back but actually propels the imagination to fire off into the stratosphere.

What I’m trying to say is that a cult following is guaranteed down the road. For now, this will put off audiences wanting something easier to define. For the rest of us, particularly those who loved “Everything Everywhere All at Once” (2022), here is a worthy counterpart.

We meet a trio of “boosters,” led by Corvette (an excellent Keke Palmer), Mariah (a livewire Taylour Paige) and Sade (the wonderful Naomi Ackie), who identify as someone who “steals from a store and sells it as an affordable price.”

Another early reference to boosters pops up in a store they’re robbing, which touts a “Boosters Get Busted” sign. Most of the locations getting robbed are Metro Designer, an expensive and popular brand from mega mogul Christy Smith (Demi Moore, in a witty turn).

There’s also a guru named Dr. Jack (an unrecognizable Don Cheadle), and a handsome supporting character (LaKeith Stanfield) who seems like he’s positioned to be the love interest. Nothing goes as expected, not for the characters, nor the audience witnessing this bonkers and consistently funny treat.

From the very beginning, there is an unceasing joy in the filmmaking and vibrancy in the colors visible on screen. The key is to embrace how nutty this is from the start and stick with it when it gets unapologetically wacky.

Palmer has never been better, while Paige (a scene stealer in every movie she appears) and Ackie (another solid performer who takes on consistently interesting roles) have some great moments and a way with Riley’s one-liners.

Moore isn’t playing a caricature and brings surprising depth to a designer with a guru-like pull and Will Poulter is hilarious as the insufferable manager of a posh Metro Designer outlet, who blasts techno music over the store speakers.

Stanfield, who was the lead of Riley’s endearingly odd “Sorry to Bother You” (2018), has a supporting role here that plays like a parody of a handsome leading man. In case you’re wondering, this is a far crazier, riskier juggling act than “Sorry to Bother You.”

Some bits either don’t work or are better upon reflection, when one can consider the cleverness of a gag that went by too quickly to land as hard as it should have.

There’s also a graphic sex scene that takes a bizarre, horror movie-worthy turn, then is brushed off entirely with a funny punchline. A character is visibly reading Salmon Rushdie’s 1981 novel “Midnight’s Children,” noted for its magical realism, a quality that Riley also generously applies here.

By the second act, a sci-fi plot twist fuels the story and Riley, rather than making it a non sequitur, runs with it until the very end. The jarring tonal change that commands the latter half of the film is even battier than the one in “Sorry to Bother You” and is an out-there but welcome touch.

Something I loved about Riley’s film, as well as David Lowery’s recent “Mother Mary”: for a reasonable budget, these filmmakers have given us wildly entertaining and personal films that are neither timid nor predictable.

As a spoof of consumerism, particularly a landscape where those who would even want to buy Smith’s hideous products can’t afford it, Riley gets some digs in, but this isn’t as malicious as “Zoolander” (2001) or “Ready to Wear” (1994).

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Nevertheless, this is the antidote to “The Devil Wears Prada 2,” which aims solely to celebrate and worship both the materialism and self-absorbed figures of this world.

Riley is celebrating artistic freedom, not those who seek to control it and aim to make it inaccessible. It seems that Riley’s goal is mostly to allow his storytelling instincts and joy of filmmaking to take him where he wants to go. Smith declares early that “reality is unchangeable, but we can change how we see reality,” a line of dialogue that also sounds like Riley’s approach to his narrative.

There’s never a dull moment, as the two-hour running time flies by. Sometimes it’s too much but I have a weakness for something this original and presented with the eye of an artist.

Riley has created a film with so visually and tonally in synch with his imagination, it deserves comparison to the works of Wes Anderson. Some will take that as a final warning, while others know that means they should see this immediately, on the big screen and in a packed theater.

Three Stars (out of four)

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‘Mandalorian and Grogu’ Sinks ‘Star Wars’ to Kiddie-Level Lows

If you can’t say something nice, say nothing at all.

In that spirit, the puppet dubbed “Baby Yoda” is still adorable in “The Mandalorian and Grogu.”

The rest of the film? Mum’s the word. Except this if a film review, so proceed we must, hmmm?

The first new “Star Wars” film in seven years is messy, an adjective several characters say in this bloated blockbuster. Messy covers a lot of sins, and this TV show extension commits more than a few.

“The Last Jedi” broke plenty of franchise fans with its woke detours and canon-crushing twists. “The Acolyte” insulted more with its feminist blather.

“The Mandalorian and Grogu” might tell any remaining fans to find another franchise. This one is creatively spent.

The setup here is simple, allowing for plenty of interesting detours that never arrive.

Our hero Din Djarin, or Mando, (Pedro Pascal) is tasked with finding rogue Imperial Warlords hoping to resurrect the Empire. He’s a bounty hunter, but as we’ve seen in three “Mandalorian” seasons, his heart is more or less in the right place.

That means he’s team New Republic, AKA the good guys. Just don’t expect any complexity or nuance to his character. This film has all the shadings of a Benjamin Moore color sample.

So off he goes, along with his trusty sidekick Grogu (still an analog puppet) to track down a mysterious figure known as Janu (Jonny Coyne). Mando’s only clue? He’s given a blank card from a deck of missing Imperial Warlords.

Really.

Mando must make a deal with members of the Hutt family to find Janu, which brings Rotta the Hutt (Jeremy Allen White) into the picture. Hey, that’s Jabba’s son, and the resemblance is striking.

Rotta has been kidnapped, and his family members want him back at any price. Except it’s a little more complicated than that.

The rest is a blur of nonstop action, tin-eared dialogue that moves the story forward in jerky fashion and no sense that adults were considered as the film’s audience.

This is kiddie entertainment from start to finish, a parade of new creatures, mediocre CGI and cuddly characters who would make the Minions blush.

The fact that Jon Favreau (“Swingers!” “Elf!” “Iron Man!”) co-wrote and directed this slop is tragic. He gets little out of his cast. Pascal, who previously made his presence felt while behind a mask, has zero arc or character to play.

He’s Protagonist 101. That’s it.

Sigourney Weaver walks through her role as a New Republic commander. She’d be Razzie worthy if she had more screen time.

The new villains barely have a pulse, from Coyne to a crimelord (Hemky Madera) who couldn’t threaten a toddler with his theatrics.

“The Mandalorian and Grogu” overdoses on action, barely taking a moment to breathe. The sequences are competently shot but never memorable, and the lack of stakes is startling. On more than a few occasions, Mando rushes into battle essentially alone, squaring off against literal armies without fearing he could get killed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Plot inconsistencies abound. Newer creatures appear and leave no mark, including Mando’s quasi-partner Garazeb “Zeb” Orrelios (Steve Blum). Cutesy cameos prove distracting, nothing more, including a vocal turn from Martin Scorsese.

There’s no talk of The Force, Skywalkers or other “Star Wars” essentials. The story overlaps with other, more recent “Star Wars” content to little satisfaction.

The movie literally stalls midway through, and you expect a Netflix-style button on the bottom right of the screen to say, “Next Episode.”

Ludwig Göransson’s score, like everything else, is trying too hard to make us think this is epic storytelling. And whenever there’s a lull in the action, which is rare, we get a new CGI creature thrust into our face.

That Mando-Grogu bond endures, and it’s as endearing as it was in the past. So what? There’s no growth here, no sense of a story evolving in any meaningful way.

Why was this made again? What’s the point beyond more content for Disney+ in a few months?

“The Mandalorian and Grogu” exists as a placeholder, a way to say the franchise still belongs on the big screen.

You sure about that? You sure ’bout that?

HiT or Miss: Children will enjoy the breezy new “Star Wars” adventure, “The Mandalorian and Grogu.” Die-hard fans will wonder how far the franchise can possibly sink after this.

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‘Wizard of the Kremlin’ – Year’s Biggest Disappointment So Far?

Olivier Assayas’ “The Wizard of the Kremlin” is a disappointment on its own but even more so when you compare it to the filmmaker’s earlier works.

Despite the talent involved and the lure of the subject matter, this won’t be a project anyone involved cites as a career highlight.

Assayas’ film portrays how Vadim Baranov (Paul Dano) went from a young Russian artist to a political mover and shaker during the late 20th century. Baranov has his brushes with history making, particularly when he meets the ambitious Vladimir Putin (Jude Law).

A theater visionary who changed politics, the story of Baranov seems like it can’t miss at the start, but the result is a film with too many scenes of actors on lush couches having conversations about moments in Russian history that we should be seeing.

The opening scenes are stiff and mannered, immediately making me wonder if Assayas was the right filmmaker for this story. Things get wild once the flashback structure kicks in, as we see Baranov emerge in both 1980s excess and USSR espionage.

Based on the 2022 book by Giuliano da Empoli, it shapes an imagined encounter between Baranov and Jeffrey Wright’s fictitious author, whose opening narration I prefer to Dano’s. Baranov is based on the real Vladislav Surkov, whose life should at least merit a compelling non-fiction film.

Baranov proclaims early, “My pain only augmented her boredom.” I know how she felt, as Dano spits out every line in the same whispery British accent. If there’s a way to make this bureaucrat interesting, Dano hasn’t found it.

There’s a mannered, one-note quality to his work here, a major letdown, considering how great he is elsewhere.

To address the obvious – I don’t agree with Quentin Tarantino’s public and unfortunately dismissive assessment of Dano’s acting abilities (nor what he declared regarding Owen Wilson). Dano’s performances in “The Batman” (2022), “Prisoners” (2013) and especially “Love & Mercy” (2015) are Oscar-worthy.

Also, in addition to his canny direction and quotable, unpredictable screenplays, Tarantino has a steady knack for taking underrated actors and casting them in offbeat parts, which showcase their willingness to take on offbeat material.

Dano is wrong for Baranov, but he’s a better actor than Tarantino has stated and can shine in the right role, and the director should know that.

The Batman star Paul Dano opens up about the harsh criticism he received from filmmaker Quentin Tarantino and the stars who came to his defense. https://t.co/Yfc2k7nOP5

— CBR (@CBR) February 25, 2026

“The Wizard of the Kremlin” often cuts to real-life clips and news footage so compelling that this clearly should have been made as a documentary.

The whole thing is too on-again, off-again for 136 minutes and the accents are all over the place. It would have been better with a cast of Russians speaking in subtitles to the what-is-that dialects that are used inconsistently or not at all.

Each narrative section comes with chapter headings, which don’t help. The Law-less sections are dull, which is a major problem, as his performance is, at best, an extended cameo role and he’s barely in the movie.

There are moments to savor, such as the sight of Yeltsin literally being propped up to give a speech. Likewise, I loved hearing Baranov having to explain to Putin who Daft Punk is.

Law has an uncanny resemblance to Putin, but this is undermined by his lack of a Russian accent. With his normal voice and the Putin cut, Law looks a lot more like Martin Freeman. Law is a terrific actor, but his real voice doesn’t match the appearance.

At one point, Law’s Putin declares, “we’re fighting to keep Russia from disintegrating,” suggesting a far more exciting film. Likewise, when Baranov announces in narration, “That day, Putin became a czar.” If only this would take up the focus and not be a passing moment, akin to Forrest Gump meeting JFK. We needed more of the Pygmalion angle on the making of Putin, a subject worth exploring.

Alicia Vikander steals all of her scenes as Ksenia and, like Law, isn’t in the movie nearly enough. There’s a weird cameo appearance from Matthew Baunsgard, unconvincing as Larry King.

Most cinephiles cite Assayas’ “Irma Vep” (1996) and the controversial “Demonlover” (2002) as high points but I think his best was ahead- the 2008 “Summer Hours” (2008), “Clouds of Sils Maria (2014) and the 2018 “Non-Fiction” (which has made me re-think the contemporary definition of a writer).

“Personal Shopper” (2016) remains my favorite Assayas film, a slice of life drama and supernatural thriller that stars Kristen Stewart, a sharp and original film I revisit often.

Assayas’ films aren’t like most others, as they lean into moments and character choices more than cleanly laid out narrative possibilities. The dialogue in his films is a pleasure to listen to. His latest isn’t lacking in ambition but, at best, this is cable TV movie worthy.

The boldest is the very last shot – it’s memorable but comes too late.

Two Stars

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Anne Hathaway’s Pop Star Pose Powers Polarizing ‘Mother Mary’

David Lowery’s “Mother Mary” is exactly the kind film I love to see in the theater, as it’s made for the big screen and an experience that is guaranteed to polarize just about everyone.

I get it, as Lowery’s latest is bizarre, challenging and, on a scene-to-scene basis, risks falling on its face.

All I knew of the film going in is that it’s “the Anne Hathaway movie where she embodies Lady Gaga.” Not an unreasonable synopsis, but there’s much, much more.

Hathaway stars as Mother Mary, a pop singer super star whose awesome stage performances suggest the elaborate production values of Lady Gaga, Madonna, that time Britney Spears danced with a snake and anything from Cirque De Solei. Mary’s music and persona are on fire with the public, while her private life is a different matter.

Mary takes a trip to a secluded countryside and reconnects with Sam, an acclaimed fashion designer (Michaela Coel) who was never given enough credit for the iconic designs she provided Mary on her tour. Sam expresses animosity and distance towards Mary, until the two come to a strange common ground: lately, they’re both haunted by the same ghost, which appears as a massive floating red silk cloth with a glowing red ball.

Long scenes of dialogue exchanges between Hathaway and Coel are broken up by Hathaway’s stage performances, which are knockout set pieces. From the widescreen cinematography, which captures the musical numbers in the most you-are-there, immersive manner possible, to the songs themselves, which are good and performed well by Hathaway, these scenes are the biggest mainstream draw the film has.

The rest of the film is take-it-or-leave-it weird and even plays that way before the supernatural elements surface. Lowery seems to be making a comment on how Mary’s stage and personal life are all, in one way or another, a performance, which explains why even the quiet scenes with only two characters are presented in a theatrical manner.

Some scene transitions are even conveyed with large doors opening into another setting, as though this were all a filmed theater piece.

To answer an obvious question – yes, “Mother Mary” could work well as a play and presumably would be an event on Broadway. As a film, even for those who love theater, heady art movies, pop music and Hathaway, will be a challenge to absorb, especially on the first viewing.

Some moments are silly and are just asking for mockery, such as when a character declares they’re about to sing “the greatest song ever written,” which we never hear (maybe Lowery knew this was too big a feat to pull off, unless Hathaway started singing “Baby Got Back.” I’m kidding).

Lowery previously wrote and directed the 2021 masterpiece, “The Green Knight,” the best blend of magical realism and grandiose storytelling from him yet. The 2016 remake of “Pete’s Dragon” is also from Lowery and easily one of the best, most refreshingly different of the live action Disney remakes, which retells the tale without simply xeroxing the original scene-for-scene (like most of the other live action Mouse House remakes).

The closest film Lowery has made to “Mother Mary” is his “A Ghost Story” (2017), which matches this film for its audacity, character-driven narratives and staging that straddles the possibilities of theater and cinema.
If Lowery keeps making movies like this, he’ll likely end up recognized as an artist making distinctive and personal works.

For now, he’s a visionary with a cult following that should be larger.

Hathaway is electric in this, on stage and in her dramatic scenes, but she’s matched by a towering performance by Coel.

The songs were written by Charli XCX, Jack Antonoff and FKA Twigs, and they’re all good enough to start popping up on an FM station. If Hathaway decides to perform on tour as Mother Mary, it wouldn’t be a bad idea.

Many will understandably hate it, a few (including me) will defend it and the rest will likely call it a future camp classic…and they’d be right.

If anything, I’m excited that something this wild is playing in mainstream theaters, though most of Hathaway’s fanbase is clearly more willing to turn up for the middle-of-the-road “The Devil Wears Prada 2.”

I applaud A24 for continuing to distribute risk-taking art movies, especially when they’re as untamed as this one.

Three Stars (out of four)

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‘My Dinner with Andre’ Made Conversation Cinematic

Louis Malle’s “My Dinner with Andre” (1981) begins with the line, “The life of a playwright is tough.”

It’s uttered by Wallace Shawn, playing himself, as his narration follows him as he scrambles down a New York street. Shawn is off to meet his friend Andre Gregory, the actor/director who had been gone for some time and is reuniting with Shawn.

The two meet for dinner in a posh restaurant, the chatter begins and we’re off into a movie unlike any other.

Malle’s film steps inside the creative process. Describing the film, which is mostly an extended conversation between two people and has mostly one location, sounds drier than toast. I avoided the film when I was young, discovered it in college and now recognize how special and one-of-a-kind it is.

Shawn, who is now known worldwide for his performances in “The Princess Bride” (1987) and as Rex in the “Toy Story” franchise (1995-present day), was 36 when he made this.

The opening narration fills us in on where these artists stood at this point in their careers (though both have subsequently noted that, despite the reality of who they are/were, the film is based on reality but not a documentary).

From the very first words uttered, their exchanges are not dull.

Shawn’s narration makes it feel less like a cinematic stunt and more like a filmed play. Once the clever narration ceases, we get into their extensive conversation, which takes some wild turns.

It helps that Gregory has a hypnotic voice and that he and Shawn are such a fascinating contrast. Topics like Chappaquiddick, Bulgakov’s “The Master and the Margarita,” fawns, Gregory’s metaphysical experience and theater’s ability to make a difference all come in and out of focus.

This isn’t claustrophobic, as reflective surfaces and reaction shots make us feel like we’re there, up close and fully engaged. Malle’s film is, of course, not for everyone but not a bore fest, either.

By the time Andre and Wallace (yes, the first Pixar short, “The Adventures of Andre and Wally B” in 1984 is named after them) get to dessert, we arrive at the core element of the discussion. A verbal crossroad is met with Shawn’s skepticism in Gregory’s recollections and Gregory’s embrace of wonder, as Shawn’s response hits upon logical vs spiritual, faith vs the scientific.

Rather than either patron resorting to histrionics or feeling a definitive conclusion on the matter must be met, they both allow the possibilities to dance in our subconscious.

As a film, “My Dinner with Andre” is alive, as the performances, cinematography and editing are at a master-class level.

For diehard fans of “The Princess Bride”: At one point, Shawn does utter the word “inconceivable.” Another fun tidbit is that the production services were provided by none other than Troma, Inc.- Thank you, Uncle Lloydie!
When the two friends bring up AI, the talk it inspires sounds relevant to right now, amazing for a film that is now 45-years old.

A decade ago, I was teaching a Films of the 1980s course at University of Colorado Springs (UCCS) and showed Malle’s film. When it ended, the response from the students was divided, with the ones who loved it admitted to appreciating it more than ever, wanting to sit through it again.

The naysayers couldn’t believe they just sat through a movie about people talking. The class shuffled out and one last student, named John, waited to talk to me. I knew that John was in a band and had a hip sense of humor, but I had no idea what he thought of the film and was not expecting what happened next.

John told me that he thought “My Dinner with Andre” was “the best movie I’ve ever seen.” I laughed, because I assumed he was kidding. He assured me the film was about things he had been thinking about, spoke to where he wanted to go in his life and was deeply connected with him.

On the last day of the class, he reminded his classmates and me that the film was still the best he had ever experienced.

Not every word of Andre and Wallace’s conversation will grab you, but the juiciest parts will stay with you. “My Dinner with Andre” is a film in love with language, people and the experience of being human.

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‘Clash of the Titans’: Medusa, Kraken and Ray Harryhausen Magic

Desmond Davis’ “Clash of the Titans” (1981) reveals that mankind is a mere plaything for Greek gods, who watch us from above, adorned in robes and using action figures to keep track of where we are.

Did I say action figures? I meant to write dolls, but a movie that includes a winged horse, a lady with a head full of snakes and a mechanical owl has me wondering why my childhood shelf was adorned with Jedis and Ewoks but never a line of Greek monsters?

Perseus (Harry Hamlin) is understandably in love with Andromeda (Judi Bowker), who is due to be sacrificed to the Kraken, a massive, goofy sea monster. Thankfully, Perseus has both the guidance of Ammon (the always welcome Burgess Meredith) and the whinnying Pegasus to guide him on his journey.

“Clash of the Titans,’ a surprise hit in 1981 and a beloved favorite for fantasy fans, is still so much fun and charming – the latter quality is especially unexpected when the film begins with a mother and child being sealed in a coffin, which is tossed into the ocean (!).

For a film to begin that way, you wouldn’t expect what follows to be so joyous, goofy and overstuffed with delightful visions.

As producer and supervisor of the stop motion animation effects and characters, the film’s real MVP was Ray Harryhausen. The creatures here are still so wondrous, it doesn’t matter that they’re not life-like or match CGI precision.

What Harryhausen’s work here demonstrates is how a personal touch (both in the creatures designs and the movement of stop motion creatures) can astound an audience in a different manner than contemporary special effects. The latter aims for realism and often seems cold and hollow by comparison.

The blend of live action and animation isn’t always seamless, but the creatures have texture and character that still beat any CGI upgrade, including the actual remake of this movie (more on that later).

There are two showstoppers: the Medusa encounter (which made me turn my eyes away in fright when I first viewed this on HBO as a child) and the moment where the Kraken is unleashed; these sequences energize the third act.

As a child, nothing beats Bubo the mechanical owl, who is to this movie what R2-D2 is to “Star Wars” (1977).

It’s amusing to see Zeus, the Greek God, using dolls to position humankind, since no less than Laurence Olivier is playing him. I’d argue that Olivier’s last truly great performances were in “The Boys from Brazil” (1978) and “Marathon Man” (1976) but there is still passion and proper theatricality in how he presents his take on Zeus.

Hamlin is game in the lead role, but the movie really needed Olivier, Meredith and especially Maggie Smith to put over how silly this plays.

Harryhausen’s showmanship, the delight in the best scenes, and a total lack of a heavy hand in tone and storytelling make this such a fun trip, even 45 years later.

About the 2010 remake, I’ll say this – most will remember how it was the first post-“Avatar” (2009) film released in 3-D that infamously was not shot in the format, converted later and looked like junk to most filmgoers. It slowed down the enthusiasm of early 20th century 3-D films at the time, which were getting a newfound interest because of James Cameron’s planet Pandora.

With or without the 3-D, the visual effects are decent, but the movie bites. Bubo the owl makes a single scene cameo, then is literally tossed aside, which is all you need to know about it.

The sequel, “Wrath of the Titans” (2012) and the similar “Immortals” (2011) are actually better, but why bother? They’re not as fun as the original “Clash of the Titans,” which has Bubo, a terrifying Medusa and is neither Kraken-lacking nor short on golden moments, like Olivier playing with dolls.

Harryhausen retired from filmmaking after “Clash of the Titans.” If you’ve never seen the work of this master film magician, I recommend “Mighty Joe Young” (1949), “Jason and the Argonauts” (1963) and this one.

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Charlize Theron’s ‘Apex’ – Why Wasn’t This in Theaters?

Many Netflix originals feel like made-for-streaming content.

That’s not remotely a compliment.

Yes, they have recognizable stars and movie-level budgets. They still leave something to be desired, and that’s being kind. Even the better titles, like “Nonnas,” leave a pleasant aftertaste more than must-see energy.

And then there’s “Apex.”

The thriller stars Charlize Theron as Sasha, an adventure junkie working through a major personal loss. So she sets out to explore the Australian Outback, eager to spend time alone with her thoughts.

It might be good for her soul, and perhaps her sanity. She gets some unexpected company from randy locals eager to get to know her better.

Yech.

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Another stranger seems more promising. He’s clean cut and refined, and he offers some neighborly advice sans the creep factor.

He’s played by Taron Egerton, all buff and bald and ready to embrace the outdoors in every way possible. He’s the kind of guy you want when you’re alone in the big, bad Australian Outback, right?

Right?

A quick peek at the trailer suggests otherwise.

Director Baltasar Kormákur (“Beast”) opens the film with bravura shots of Sasha and her climbing partner defying gravity with every inch up a formidable mountain. The camera work is unsettling, making even pedestrian moves feel dangerous.

Deadly, even.

Kormákur’s camera moves are equally slick later in the film, as Sasha navigates an unforgiving river and scrambles over the challenging terrain. This film feels like a Jillian Michaels’ workout.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Theron doesn’t have much to work with – the storyline is purposely lean and mean. She still evokes a woman at an emotional crossroads, and one whose physicality could be her only way out of certain doom.

No Girlbossery here, just a middle-aged survivor who knows how far to push her body. The Oscar winner is increasingly adept at these kinds of physical roles, from “Atomic Blonde” to this punishing affair.

Egerton has never been so lethal, and his character carries a secret that makes the cat-and-mouse storyline even more frightening.

Chomp, chomp.

“Apex” offers a few wrinkles in its third act, another sign that everyone involved acknowledged the formula at work but refused to connect the usual dots. That results in some wild jolts and a finale that proves even more satisfying than we hoped.

Now, why did this movie skip theaters again? Netflix and chilling should be “Apex’s” second act, not its first.

HiT or Miss: “Apex” doesn’t reinvent the “woman stalked in the wilderness” template. It’s just a first-class variation on it.

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‘Caveman’s Valentine’: Samuel L. Jackson’s Best Performance?

Kasi Lemmons’ “The Caveman’s Valentine” (2001) stars Samuel L. Jackson as a homeless man in New York named Romulus Ledbetter, a former Julliard pianist whose schizophrenia destroyed his once promising career.

Romulus maintains his intellect and ability to play the piano beautifully, but he’s also prone to outbursts, particularly towards the Chrysler Building, where he believes a man named Stuyvesant is blasting invisible rays at the population. There’s more – Romulus lives in a cave and explains to anyone who will listen that he has moth-like creatures living in his head.

When Romulus discovers a dead body, he has a big clue to share with the authorities, but no credibility with law enforcement.

So he takes on the case himself.

Lemmon’s film, her second after the acclaimed “Eve’s Bayou” (1997), which also starred Jackson, is tough, bold and in dire need of rediscovery. I saw it in the theater, was spellbound by the experience, then puzzled how it faded into obscurity.

As of this writing, the film has reappeared as an option on Prime Video, where I hope adventurous filmgoers will find it and give it a look.

The screenplay is by George Dawes Green, based on his 1994 debut novel; having the novelist who concocted the tale also acting as screenwriter is a mixed blessing.

FAST FACT: Lemmons created a short film in college, “Fall from Grace,” that found her interviewing homeless people on the streets. That experience helped her say yes to the script for “Caveman’s Valentine.”

On the plus side, the story’s untamed wildness is intact, as are the visionary touches. Nevertheless, some aspects that were easy to accept on the written page, and can be interpreted as magical realism, are harder to buy when made literal.

I’m not referring to the most magical moments but the basic concept, which is flawed: Romulus is out of his mind but his state of consciousness ranges from madly bonkers to a keen sense of observation that matches Sherlock Holmes.

Romulus is a heartbreaking character, especially during the moments when he loses control of his temper in public. We can’t help but root for him and hope he’ll either heal or, at the very least, be able to pull himself together.

Yet, when outbreaks of madness are followed by scenes where he possesses Columbo’s crime fighting skills, it suggests an ability to control his demons in the story’s second act that contradicts the first.

I was always rooting for Jackson’s character, even as the story greatly stretches credibility by the third act. In fact, (minor spoiler) the upbeat conclusion is nice, but I would prefer something more credible.

RELATED: WHY JACKSON’S ‘UNFORGETTABLE’ WAS SO RADICAL

Terry Gilliam’s thematically similar “The Fisher King” (1991), which lacks a mystery plot but also centers on a schizophrenic homeless man (played by Robin Williams, in a magnificent performance) is as wild as Lemmons’ film but is better at balancing the fantastical with the hard “reality” of the narrative.

Nevertheless, Jackson is amazing in this, somehow making Romulus intimidating and painfully vulnerable in equal measures. This is my favorite of Jackson’s performances and easily one of his most underappreciated. Despite my problems with the story’s credibility, Jackson makes Romulus the riveting center.

Ann Magnuson, Anthony Michael Hall and Colm Feore also stand out, as does Tamara Tunie, wonderful as a figure from Romulus’ past who constantly checks in on him.

At the midpoint, Romulus confronts Lulu, his daughter (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor) and the two share a drive and find common ground for the first time. This sequence is so powerful, thinking about it reduces me to tears.

The best parts of “The Caveman’s Valentine” have that kind of power.

“The Caveman’s Valentine” is a strange but often dazzling film, with an outstanding Terrence Blanchard score (the end credits suite is a joy to revisit). The scenes taking place in Romulus’ mind, particularly the moments where we see the seraphs (moth-like creatures with human bodies) buzzing around, are stunning.

Lemmons’ film was produced by Danny DeVito’s Jersey Films and Elie Samaha’s Franchise Films, the latter company that released Sean Penn’s “The Pledge” the same year.

That film, starring Jack Nicholson, is also about a crime fighter with a broken mind struggling to solve a mystery while facing his inner demons. I love both of those movies, but watching them as a double feature is too much.

Despite the imperfections, this is my favorite film from Lemmons and, for the many cinephiles who never miss a film from Jackson, this is a milestone performance.

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Mortal Kombat II: Chaotic, Silly and Somehow Still a Guilty Pleasure

“Mortal Kombat II” is pure torture for film critics.

How do you assess a movie that doesn’t play by the rules, offers an utterly confounding story and leaves actors scrambling for their dignity?

And, the most amazing part? What if it’s sorta, kinda fun in a way you couldn’t confide to even your closest friend?

That’s the challenge in briefing readers on this video game sequel, a film that never takes itself seriously but packages more supercharged fight sequences than any film not named “Wick.”

It’s silly. It’s a mess. It’s way too long. And it packs suitcases of guilty pleasures in its bloated running time.

Where to even begin with a traditional plot synopsis?

A sinister realm dubbed Outworld is intent on taking over Earthrealm. To do so, it gathers a team of high-powered warriors led by Emperor Shao Kahn (Martyn Ford) to defeat Earthrealm’s finest fighters. Think a Thanos-like villain who makes mincemeat of his enemies.

He seems pretty inevitable.

The good guys this time around include, inexplicably, a has-been movie star named Johnny Cage (Karl Urban). Why would he be one of the chosen ones to fight Shao Kahn and his forces?

Make it make sense. Good luck.

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‘THE LAST STARFIGHTER’ STILL THE BEST VIDEO GAME MOVIE

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Just know that Urban knows exactly how to play this absurd material, adding charisma and humor where it’s desperately needed.

His co-stars aren’t as fortunate, lacking the comic notes needed to ground their characters. Still, Adeline Rudolph does as much as humanly possible as the fierce Kitana, and both Jessica McNamee (Sonya Blade) and Mehcad Brooks (Jax) offer agreeable turns.

We’d also praise Josh Lawson’s Kano, a wisecracking warrior, but who in the world knows what he’s doing or why he’s here? Newbies will need to do some heavy research to fill in these backstories.

Then again, this franchise is meant for hardcore fans, not the casual filmgoer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Eager for cool kills? “Mortal Kombat II” has your back. Curious why one wounded warrior floats in a coma-like state, or why a washed-up film star should be summoned to save the world?

Darned if we know.

You’d think a two-hour film that offers nonstop character fights would grow dull, but one thing director Simon McQuaid gets right is how to make over-the-top slugfests pop.

Some warriors deploy fireballs, while others wield massive weapons. Either way, every battle sequence rocks, and thank goodness.

Because that’s all there is.

Urban’s addition to the franchise suggests he’ll be the main attraction. The story splits time between Johnny and Kitana. Neither is a bad choice, but the ensemble approach works against the film, making sure neither has much of an arc.

Video game movies aren’t meant to be high art, but the chaotic nature of “Mortal Kombat II” can leave some woozy. There’s talk of an important amulet, but that subplot feels insignificant in the big picture. Whatever moral ambiguity resides in Johnny’s call to heroism barely leaves a mark.

The sequel is akin to someone giving us a satchel of quarters and saying, “have fun!”

There are worse ways to spend two hours, but calling it a “movie” feels like a stretch.

HiT or Miss: “Mortal Kombat II” offers non-stop action, mind-numbing plot beats and a hero who doesn’t even know the meaning of the word.

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Did 1981’s ‘Enter the Ninja’ Help Launch Ninja Craze?

Menahem Golan’s “Enter the Ninja” (1981) has a title sequence where a ninja provides a demonstration, ranging from kicks to weapons preparation, as the opening credits unravel.

Leave it to Golan, the infamous businessman and canny filmmaker, for knowing what his audience wants and insists on giving them right away.

We meet our ninja, a man named Cole, played by Franco Nero, who is visiting a friend in Manila, where nefarious business practices are occurring. When Cole’s best friend is murdered, he goes on a one-man war against a sleazy business tycoon, Charles Venarius (played by the wonderful character actor, Christopher George, the lead of the 1976 drive-in smash, “Grizzly”).

There’s also a rival ninja named Hasegawa, played by Sho Kosugi, the true star of the film and the breakout who not only followed this series, but numerous martial arts thrillers inspired by it.

Another major star of the film is Mike Stone. The Maui-born martial arts sensation who was originally hired to play Cole and, reportedly due to lack of acting experience (though likely Golan’s belief that a movie star should carry this), he was replaced by Nero but wisely kept on the film as the fight choreographer and ninja double.

I’m a fan of Nero, who has obvious gravitas and a cool accent as a leading man (he was perfect playing a Castro-like villain in the 1990 “Die Hard 2”). However, to put it mildly, Nero gives the role his all, but he’s not believable as a ninja, and it’s obvious when Stone was brought in to double him.

The decision to have Nero’s deep vocals dubbed is as ridiculous as the unnaturally chipper voice that replaced him.

Kosugi, with his intense, Toshiro Mifune-level stare and intimidating presence, is the real deal and so is Stone, whose imprint on the film is undeniable. I wish Kosugi were in “Enter the Ninja” more, as his character makes a strong entrance but doesn’t get to take center stage until the film is nearly over.

In addition to his obvious martial arts showcases, Kosugi is also excellent as the disproving father in “Aloha Summer” (1988) and as The Assassin in “Blind Fury” (1990), the better-than-expected American remake of the essential “Zatoichi” (1962-1989) film series.

In addition to love scenes and a romantic subplot the film has no idea what to do with, there are also war flashbacks, indicating that Golan and Globus were visibly chomping at the bit to start their “Missing in Action” franchise (1984-1988).

Golan’s film is completely ridiculous and wildly entertaining, easily one of the best of the Cannon Films titles unrelated to their arthouse fare (where the 1985 “Runaway Train” and the 1987 releases “Barfly” and “Street Smart” rank among their proudest releases).

Sure, the dialogue is risible, and the plot is by-the-numbers, but when you have multiple shots of ninjas diving headfirst off a waterfall in slow motion, the lack of a fresh story can mostly be forgiven.

“Enter the Ninja” is credited, in film textbooks, as well as the 2014 documentary “Electric Boogaloo: The Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films,” for igniting a ninja craze in the U.S. and in video stores. I’d argue that Eric Van Lustbader’s 1980 bestselling novel “The Ninja” and choice moments from the top-rated 1980 TV mini-series “Shōgun,” as well as the growing appeal of martial arts movies in the U.S., were also the reason.

I vividly recall a 1-800 ad that aired in the late 1980s on TV after midnight, which showed a karate-kicking, black-attired ninja, running through the woods and doing flips over bridges – a narrator stated that “you, yes, YOU,” could become like the warrior on your TV set!

How? By sending $100 to the address listed on screen, in order to obtain a massive book that reveals all the secrets of the ways of the ninja. Despite asking my mom about it the following morning, I have yet to obtain a copy.

Enter the Ninja (1981) pic.twitter.com/NPWLUwpvAp

— Retro Recall (☥) (@RetroMoviesDB) January 16, 2026

Whatever the reason for the fascination with all things masked, aikido-trained shadow warriors, Golan’s film and his Cannon Films (co-founded by his partner, Yoram Globus) exploited the notion, in this and many other films that followed.

The best and worst thing about “Enter the Ninja” is that it’s hilarious and rarely on purpose.

What came next? For starters, the unrelated “Revenge of the Ninja” (1983) and the hall of fame guilty pleasure, “Ninja III- The Domination” (1984), which all starred Kosugi, whose plays different ninja characters in each. From Cannon Films, the Michael Dudikoff “American Ninja” franchise followed, as did a Kosugi-starring TV series called “The Master” (1984).

“Enter the Ninja” isn’t great art, but it’s a fun B-movie and a well-made Cannon Film. There are better ninja and martial arts films that came before and after it, but where else can you see Nero explain to the villain, in a badly dubbed voice, “My friend, a ninja doesn’t kill, He eliminates and only for defensive purposes,” then kick the crud out of them?

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Is ‘The Christophers’ Ian McKellen’s Career-Best Performance?

Steven Soderbergh’s “The Christophers” showcases one of the best performances Sir Ian McKellen has ever given, which is enough reason to see it.

This one-of-a-kind comedy/drama is also unlike most other films about artists.

McKellen plays Julian Sklar, a reclusive but celebrated painter who infamously never finished a set of works titled The Christophers. Sklar’s rotten, money-hungry children (played by Jessica Gunning and former talk show host James Corden) hire Lori (Michaela Coel) to finish The Christophers herself and pass it off as Julian’s work.

When Julian meets Lori, he’s taken by her intelligence and skill, but has his own ideas about what to ultimately do with The Christophers.

Soderbergh’s wonderful new film isn’t just about art but, refreshingly, also the joy and agony that goes into the process of creation. Considering that most films about the art world are either museum heists or bios about self-destructive painters, the film’s exploration of the actual work of painting and the frustrations it elicits is downright novel.

Movies about painters or artists in general typically have a montage of the brushes engorged with paint, the artist madly working the canvas, in the same way movies about artists have scenes of actors furiously typing. It’s a cliché and doesn’t tap into the actual process, let alone how much fun it is to create.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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To give most filmmakers a break, staging the act of creating art as a cinematic event isn’t easy. Outside of the pottery montage from “Ghost” (1990), does any film, let alone a mainstream movie, reflect how an artist’s imagination, skill and obsession lead to a physical approximation of the idea?

I suppose the ultimate film that painstakingly demonstrates how art emerges from artists has to be “La Belle Noiseuse” (English title “The Beautiful Troublemaker”), in which a legendary artist paints a young Emmanuelle Béart nude in real time and we experience every paint stroke and literally watch paint dry.

Oh, and the film is four hours long.

For everyone else, there’s “The Christophers.” McKellen gives such a forceful performance, flush with lengthy, hilarious monologues, that he’s almost the whole show here. Coel brings dimension and intelligence to her role, and its refreshing to see Cordan play a character we’re supposed to loathe.

“The Christophers” plays like a companion piece to McKellen’s vehicles “Mr. Holmes” (2015) and especially “Gods and Monsters” (1998), the latter of which is still McKellen’s best movie and performance. In both that film and “The Christophers,” he plays an elderly artist who challenges and inspires a young protégée.

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The music and cinematography are crisp, and Soderbergh allows the extensive two-person scenes to go long but the edits never allow it to drag or feel claustrophobic.

The final scene brought a tear to my eye, as screenwriter Ed Solomon arrives at a perfect conclusion. Film buffs will remember Solomon, not only as the author of Soderbergh’s prior “No Sudden Move” (2021) but, no joke, as the writer behind every single “Bill and Ted” movie (!).

There are so many McKellen hall of fame performances, such as “The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring” (2001), “X-Men” (2000), “Richard III” (1995) and “Apt Pupil” (1998). This one is among his richest and most complex.

“The Christophers” could have been a filmed play and, at times, feels like one. This is among its boldest achievements, as it manages to keep us engaged in what is mostly a movie about two people in a house trying to figure one another out.

Considering the achievement of Richard Linklater’s three-person 2001 drama, “Tape,” it’s almost as if Soderbergh was attempting to audaciously make the two-person variant. What could have come across as a potential stunt or something that should have stayed on stage instead emerges as a thought-provoking comedy on the notion of authorship, both in art and life.

Three and a half stars (out of four)

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