Set in 1987, 40-plus years into the Cold War, Mayday follows US Air Force pilot Troy Kelly (Reynolds) on a covert spy mission over Soviet Russia. After being shot down, an injured Troy is rescued by Nikolai Ustinov (Kenneth Branagh), a former KGB officer. When Troy is brought in, he notices that Nikolai harbors a secret love for American culture—sparked entirely by his bootlegVHS copy of Top Gun. Because of this, and seeing an American in trouble, he agrees to help Troy navigate hostile territory and escape, setting the stage for a chaotic cross-country journey.

Within a few minutes of Mayday, you might ask yourself, “Am I getting the same shtick from Ryan Reynolds attempts at getting laughs?” Well, you are, but Goldstein and Daley (who also wrote the film) know exactly how to channel his humor without letting it overstay its welcome. Reynolds plays the part fine, but the film’s real MVP is Branagh. Reminding Hollywood of his immense range, Branagh kicks ass and grounds the narrative, and we learn that there’s more to this former KGB officer as the film progresses. And once Branagh’s character enters the picture, Mayday really starts to flex its muscles, and the duo’s chemistry carries them through a series of increasingly absurd and dangerous predicaments where action and hilarity ensue.

Most action films these days feel especially vanilla in their presentation to its viewers. But veteran cinematographer Barry Peterson elevates the action here with cleverly framed, dynamic action sequences rather than just standstill shots. A great example of this is when the film introduces Nikolai’s movements to Troy, who is taken aback at this discovery. And when the humor hits, it hits just the right amount. For example, the relentless Top Gun references land surprisingly well here, serving as a clever connective thread between the two leads rather than a tired gimmick. In the hands of other writers, the jokes likely would come across as beating a dead horse.

Mayday scratches the buddy-action comedy itch that we saw stretch from the late 80’s well through the 90’s; no matter the subgenre of comedy, comedy as a whole is missing films like this. While another Reynolds action-comedy might sound exhausting on paper, the direction, excellent chemistry with Branagh, and well-balanced set pieces make this delayed release a pleasant, highly entertaining surprise to cap off the summer.

RATING: ★★★1/2

(out of five stars)

COYOTE VS. ACME

3.5 out of 5 stars

Once upon a time, Coyote vs. Acme was set to never see the light of day. Warner Bros. Discovery, headed up by a real-life incarnation of a Looney Tunes villain, David Zaslav, was going to shelf it for a $30 million tax write-off. But the backlash became too much and Ketchup Entertainment (the same company that released The Day the Earth Blew Up: A Looney Tunes Movie) swung in and scooped it up. A huge victory for director Dave Green, screenwriter Samy Burch, and the rest of the cast and crew.

I’m elated to proclaim that Coyote vs Acme was undoubtedly worth saving. This live-action/animation hybrid is charming, funny, clever and heartfelt, effortlessly capturing the unruly, snarky and silly spirit of our treasured Looney Tunes cartoons. It’s also a crazy courtroom drama. Imagine Who Framed Roger Rabbit? shaking hands with A Few Good Men.

Will Forte is the ideal human to join in on the fun. Him and Wile E. Coyote end up becoming a dynamic underdog duo pushing back against Acme, a big greedy corporation that inflicts inestimable amounts of abuse against our looney faves. John Cena is great in bringing that classic cartoon-style hostility as Acme’s big shot lawyer, Buddy Cane. He’s also shares an unforgettable scene with Tweety Bird that’s hysterical.

The movie strikes a surprisingly emotional chord using the Coyote and Roadrunner relationship, showcasing what they truly mean to one another. Though, what I loved most is this newfound outlook provided by Green and Burch on Coyote and what we should really take from his countless tries and failures. It’s about time we give credit where credit is due and appreciate his dedication and empathize with his years and years of pain and suffering. His never give up attitude would certainly make Cena proud. The movie shares through Coyote a sense of hope, inspiration and purpose.

Judging by the discourse online, a lot of folks missed that nice little one-shot. I’ve seen critics of Bernthal’s performance citing Castle’s happy-go-lucky demeanor…or I guess as “happy-go-lucky” as Frank Castle can get…as distracting and not fitting of the character. But, I found it to be the natural evolution of the character. Where One Last Kill left off, it certainly makes sense that we have a more well-adjusted Castle who is back on his feet. It’s not like that came out of nowhere. Maybe watching it pretty recently to Brand New Day helped that, but his portrayal didn’t bother me at all. In fact, I felt quite the opposite. I loved his chemistry and back-and-forth quips with Peter Parker. We’ve hollowed out the depths of the Frank Castle character. To me, I’m fine if they want to lighten things up, have him kick some ass, and deliver gritty one-liners.

The Punisher has certainly been done before. From Dolph Lundgren to Thomas Jane to Ray Stevenson, the character is no stranger to the big screen. But, I don’t know that any previous iteration of Frank Castle has struck lightning in a bottle the way Jon Bernthal’s portrayal of the character has since we first saw it in 2016. Some roles are simply meant for a certain actor. Bernthal and Castle make for a perfect match, but it’s his appearance in One Last Kill that I really want to key in on today.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Stoney, that special dropped over three months ago. You’re just now discovering it? Just before Brand New Day comes out?” And, the honest answer is “yes.” Truth be told, I had grown a little weary of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I had heard a couple of things about this Punisher one-shot, but my compulsion to keep up with all of the MCU films, specials, and series has waned in the last several years. Sure, I found Thunderbolts and Fantastic Four enjoyable. I loved Wonder Man. But, the days of eagerly anticipating the next installment of the MCU by scrolling Reddit theories aimlessly is long behind me.

So, forgive me. I’m just getting caught up. But, as I watched this special, it occurred to me that this role feels tailor made for an actor with the bravado of Jon Bernthal. Bernthal brings a certain charisma to every role he’s in, and I do find him to be quite underrated in the larger conversation about the greatest actors in the game today. But, as Castle, Bernthal gets to let his guttural side run roughshod. It’s something that makes perfect sense watching him play Shane in The Walking Dead in hindsight. If only we’d seen it then. Bernthal smoldered with intensity in that role, and some of Shane’s more gravitational scenes in that series make for a fun re-watch after seeing him as Castle. I’m glad Marvel decided to run this casting back. Not only has it been a symbiotic relationship between actor and character, but it still feels like there’s room to let this thing breathe. The best may still be to come with The Punisher in the MCU.

Bernthal has a writing credit on One Last Kill and the idea for this special presentation was his brainchild to begin with. From a narrative standpoint, the film doesn’t do anything revolutionary. Without Bernthal, it probably does feel a little soulless…more mindless self indulgence than a story to tell. But, it does get its point across seamlessly and efficiently, and to me, that point was clearly made to the larger MCU: The Punisher is back. This special certainly makes some choices when it comes to the violence. It’s known as a grittier property anyway, but not only does One Last Kill not shy away from the violence, it amps it up.

I can honestly say I never thought I’d see the day that I was watching a Marvel special only to see Frank Castle stab someone 18 times with a pen while Hatebreed was playing over it. Even that choice of song in that moment felt like a calculated decision to amplify the theme of the story - the chorus of “I Will Be Heard” reads:

Now is the time for me to rise to my feet
Wipe your spit from my face
Wipe these tears from my eyes

..and the rest of the lyrics feel fitting for where Castle is at in his life at the time too. I usually find these grandiose action sequences set to some grating metal song a little cheesy and cringe-inducing. But, for this particular character in this moment, I found it to be a nice way to convey what Castle is feeling without having him verbalize it. It was such a nice touch, and if I may guiltily admit, had me wanting to put my fist through a bad guy’s face myself. That’s how the special hooked me in Bernthal’s portrayal of Castle.

But there’s only so much moping “woe is me” we can take from this character. And, that’s something that Marvel properties have struggled with in general in recent years. We get it - you have to be down and out before you can be built back up. Every story has to have its conflict. But, sometimes…man, we just want to get back to some ass-kicking. We’ve grown to understand Castle’s pain, and that’s thanks to Bernthal’s ability to push a type of anguish that haunts a man to his core at all times through his voice, his face, and his body. But, it’s time for this character to get past that. We’ve seen the depths of despair and it’s time to join the ranks of the heroes again - that’s where One Last Kill excels, and Brand New Day really sees it through. I’m excited to see where the character goes from here.

Camp Miasma here is a pastiche for Friday The 13th and Sleepaway Camp with a killer known as Little Death wielding a double edged spear and wearing a ceiling air vent for a mask. After a steady decline in quality, the initial star exiting after the first films in the series, and bizarre scandals surrounding their merchandise, Hollywood is looking to resurrect the dormant IP. Its home studio has tapped Kris Williams (Hannah Eichbinder), a queer filmmaker fresh off a Sundance hit, with directing a modern, “elevated” reboot of the franchise which Kris is a die-hard fan of, despite a transphobia controversy surrounding the original film.

Kris has a work meeting planned with the original final girl Billy Presley (Gillian Anderson), who lives a reclusive life in Camp Tivoli, the original sleepaway camp location where the first Camp Miasma film was shot. After a night of eating fried chicken and discussing their careers, Billy invites Kris to stay overnight with her due to a raging snowstorm. Over the course of Kris’ near week-long stay, the young director’s fascination with her host grows until she not only wants to cast her as the lead in her upcoming film, but also plunges herself and Billy with her into psychological chaos, threatening Kris’ professional endeavors and state of mind.

In their previous film I Saw The TV Glow, Jane Schoenbrun made a cautionary tale about nostalgia’s capability for deception that doubled as a trans allegory for staying true toward your interior identity rather than repressing it, and Camp Miasma contains as many if not more multitudes to which audiences of all types can attach themselves. One such level is as a slasher movie where the monster is representative of one’s sexual power and confidence; this is accomplished through a marvelous oner where Little Death makes his initial rampage, as well as handheld shots from Kris’ perspective as she spies on Billy through slits in her bedroom wall not unlike Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers would his next unsuspecting victim.

A love story also unfolds in Schoenbrun’s latest with beautiful writing thanks to a well-established dynamic between the film’s two leads. Kris is a workaholic, socially conscious with Camp Miasma’s problematic history and aware of her place in Tinseltown as a spoke on the capitalistic wheel, while Billy understands horror’s basic appeal and why the schlock in which she starred was made in the first place. Schoenbrun also demonstrates deep emotion through lovely choices such as shooting a beautiful exterior scene in a slower frame rate, and the noirish, Norma Desmond-esque reveal of Billy, regardless of any shifts in tone and mood.

To that end, Camp Miasma is also a love letter to the practical way movies used to be made and observed, from Schoenbrun’s decision to shooting on 35mm film stock and using painted background mattes to simulate a snow-covered tree line surrounding a small theater, to authentic recreations of 80s slashers as far as their narrative simplicity, grimy aesthetic, synthesizer musical score, and even one-dimensional characters when Billy and Kris experience the first Camp Miasma film together.

As far as acting goes, Hannah Einbinder does a stellar job of wearing Kris’ devotion to film on her sleeve through visible tears in her eyes while watching movies and stammering her way toward an answer through energetic naturalism upon being asked a personal question. And Gillian Anderson came to play as well; the former X-Files star chews scenery by lending Billy Presley more than just a Southern accent via impeccable range, whether it’s the confident and spirited but slightly menacing way she laughs or the delicate sensitivity she wears on her face while treating her guest with motherly comfort and lack of judgment.

Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma has a lot going on thematically, but sporadic instances of exposition come off a little clunky in order for Schoenbrun’s efforts in subverting its subgenre to fully work, and the pacing is off at points due to the film not having a traditional climax, as far as narrative structure is concerned. On that note, closed-minded viewers expecting a brainless throwback to the terror of yesteryear will be disappointed by the surrealist, genre-bending turns that familiarize us to the universal fear of being misunderstood, in addition to the queer yearning for power, and anxiety of being an outsider in a place they’re unwelcome.

But more open-minded, empathetic moviegoers will comprehend the heartfelt, empowering messages within the ingenious and artistic craft on display, gain the bravery to tell their partners about their own erotic desires, reflect on late nights spent seeing movies they were too young to watch, go back to reinterpret that look in Billy’s eye and what it means again and again, and celebrate slashers for all the flesh that’s been cut and fluids they’ve sprayed over the years. Jane Schoenbrun has made another cerebral, gutsy, genre-blending standout with nothing but love for its characters, slasher films and movie lovers, and that’s why horror fans and accepting cinephiles should seek out the truly special Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma.

Rating: ★★★★1/2 (out of five)

The critics have not been kind to Broken Lizard throughout the years. Their highest-rated film from the Tomatometer on Rotten Tomatoes is the aforementioned Beerfest with a 41%. Every other film they’ve written and produced sits comfortably in the thirties, with the low-end of the spectrum being 2004’s Club Dread, which has a rating of 31%. Words like “silly” and “gross” litter reviews. I read one review in which a critic critiqued the pacing of Quasi, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Sure, if you’re going to release a film and open it up to the critics, it’s the critic’s job to hold it to the same standard as every other film. I get that. But, these films are a hilarious example of “we don’t care” from the target audience. And, make no mistake about it - the “we” in that equation is who Broken Lizard movies are for. The films that qualify for the Tomatometer happen to have an average Popcornmeter score (audience rating) of 63.6 - certified fresh to moviegoers.

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Sweet, delicious ice cream is a summertime staple. So leave it to horror master Eli Roth (Hostel, Thanksgiving) to take this tasty treat and turn it into a demonic device that has children going berserk and butchering grownups. Kid murderers aren’t anything new to the genre, so Roth’s vision is far from revolutionary. He appears to be more than happy frolicking in such silly yet sadistic possibilities that are hardly memorable. His latest effort is a touch above those awful Children of the Corn movies. Released under Roth’s new indie banner, The Horror Section, Ice Cream Man is mean and merciless that has an overpowering flavor of dumb and disgusting.

Bayleen Bay becomes Bloodbath Bay after the Ice Cream Man (Ari Millen) comes rolling into the idyllic town, serving up endless scoops of ice cream carnage. He brings a whole new meaning to the saying “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!” Savoring the variety of creepy choices on a cone, the children become crazed - chopping, cutting, sawing, beating, smashing and any other violent acts imaginable.

With an old timey cartoon and a catchy ice cream jingle bouncing around in their heads, the children treat themselves to twisted fun with plenty of blood and guts. Oh the horror these adorable little faces (with dried-up ice cream smeared on them) can commit. Luckily you can avoid getting down with the sugary sickness by puking it up or simply being lactose intolerant. That’s how Jared (Charlie Zeltzer) and his sister Lizzie (Sarah Abbott), Mia (Kiori Mirza Waldman) and Tommy (Shiloh O’Reilly) end up banning together to try to outrun the massacre and get rid of the Ice Cream Man.

Appreciation can surely be found in its sickening prosthetics and practical gore, but that’s about it. Ice Cream Man is Roth’s desperate attempt to be like Terrifier or Weapons. But there’s no comparing when there’s barely a story, terrible dialogue, and abysmal AI imagery all over. You probably won’t give a damn about the characters, either. From the adults to the kids, everyone’s performances are struggling to be convincing if not flat-out laughable. Speaking of laughable, it’s also in dire need of some actual humor. Roth does all he can to shock us, though no matter how many crushed faces or bodies severed - how serious this movie takes itself is the most appalling of all. Even the Ice Cream Man himself isn’t all that terrifying or interesting. And how he came to be is shoddily thrown together at the very end.

It’s hard to believe Ice Cream Man is two decades in the making. It feels like it was thought of yesterday and released today with not a lot of effort in between. This is solely for fans of Roth and the explicitly graphic, gruesome excess that made him a household name in horror. However, after this, he may be in jeopardy of losing some of them, too. Ice Cream Man is about as enjoyable as your ice cream melting, falling off the cone, splattering on the ground and leaving you with sticky shoes.

Directed by Craig Gillespie, Supergirl is loosely adapted from the acclaimed Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow comic series by Tom King and Bilquis Evely. The core plot revolves around Supergirl/Kara Zor-El tracking down the villainous Krem of the Yellow Hills after he gravely injures her dog, Krypto, and traumatizes a young girl named Ruthye Marye Knoll, who joins Kara on her quest for vengeance.

In the film’s opening minutes, it’s clear the studio is trying to capture the same wavelength as the Guardians of the Galaxy trilogy: otherworldly creatures, vibrant-enough planets, incredibly powerful beings, and a deeply flawed protagonist at the center of it all. While those elements are on full display in the comic, the film barely scratches the surface of what makes the original story so great. I understand why the adaptation is so loose. From an IP perspective, green-lighting a space epic for a non-mainstream superhero is a massive financial risk. But loudly promoting that you are adapting King’s specific comic actually does a disservice to the source material when you omit its most beautiful and monumental imagery—like Supergirl fighting a cosmic dragon or riding a horse named Comet through space. Including even a few of these elements could have elevated this from a “fine” movie to a much better one.

Rather than embracing the comic’s more beautiful moments, the film inserts the antihero Lobo, played by Jason Momoa. Like the film itself, Lobo’s inclusion is fine. Again, the IP strategy is obvious: beef up the film’s marketability by bringing in a proven comic-book-movie veteran actor like Momoa for motorcycle action sequences rather than sticking strictly to the book. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make for a standout viewing experience, especially when combined with other less-than-stellar choices. Matthias Schoenaerts feels miscast as the antagonist Krem, and several visual and song choices—particularly the needle drops during the climactic final battle—fall flat.

With all of that said, Milly Alcock is fantastic as Supergirl/Kara Zor-El. She is the heart and soul of this film, successfully bringing the comic character to life. I will admit I was initially skeptical when her casting was announced, but she proved to be the right choice for this character. In addition, David Krumholtz is excellent as her father, Zor-El, making the absolute most of his very brief screen time.

Early on, James Gunn emphasized that the characters in his DCU would matter. And so far, he’s building that foundation with David Corenswet’s Superman and Milly Alcock’s Supergirl—both are likable leads the audience can rally behind. Ultimately, though, Supergirl feels almost exactly like Marvel’s sophomore slump, The Incredible Hulk. It’s a passable second installment featuring a great lead who will clearly play a pivotal role in future team-ups (like next year’s Man of Tomorrow), but the standalone movie itself is just okay. However, where the DCU goes next is critical.

Rating: ★★★ (out of five)

Where the DCU Goes from Here

It won’t be long before the DCU turns the page, as James Gunn’s universe is expanding across both film and television very soon.

Lanterns

In a couple of weeks, the highly anticipated Lanterns series will premiere on HBO. Helmed by Ozark showrunner Chris Mundy alongside Damon Lindelof (Lost) and Tom King, I’m extremely confident this is going to be quite good based on the footage we’ve seen. Starring Kyle Chandler (Friday Night Lights) and star-in-the-making Aaron Pierre (Rebel Ridge), this should hopefully give us the proper live-action introduction to the Green Lantern Corps (sorry, Ryan Reynolds) and John Stewart—a character who is long overdue for the spotlight after carrying the iconic Justice League cartoon. When the project was first announced, James Gunn said that the “terrifying mystery” of Lanterns ties into the larger story of the DCU, so we'll see how that unfolds very soon.

Clayface

Then, in October, we have Clayface hitting theaters. Directed by James Watkins (Speak No Evil) and starring relatively unknown actor Tom Rhys Harries, this movie has massive breakout potential. In what has already been a stellar year for horror, the footage from its two trailers give off creepily-good, body-horror vibes. It looks fresh, different, and exciting, which is exactly what the comic book genre needs right now. Made on a low budget and releasing just in time for Halloween, this could quickly course-correct the DCU’s momentum if it’s also good. However, the complete omission of Batman is noticeable. While he certainly isn’t necessary for a Clayface origin story, the absence of Batman in the DCU looms larger with every new release.

The DCU Film Slate Early On - Nothing Like it Was First Announced

Looking ahead to next July, the released DCU film slate will look like this so far:

• Superman

• Supergirl

• Clayface

• Man of Tomorrow (Superman Sequel)

It’s an odd rollout, to say the least, and certainly different from the grand vision Gunn originally announced three years ago; in retrospect, it felt like putting the cart before the horse. While things don’t always go according to plan, I’m not saying they need to shoehorn Batman and Wonder Woman into the universe right away. (Although, it is heavily rumored that Adria Arjona’s mysterious role in Man of Tomorrow is Wonder Woman). Still, with three of the first four DCU films centered on the Superman family, it’s time to expand. The clock is ticking on assembling the Trinity, which is what everyone wants to see—especially if the studio remains adamant about keeping Robert Pattinson’s Batman separate. James Gunn swears we will have two active Batmen on film between Gunn’s iteration and Matt Reeves’ universe, but we’ll see if they change their tune…

The Dink follows Dusty “The Hammer” Boyd (Johnson), who works at his dad’s (Ed Harris) country club serving up tennis lessons to children. Dusty was once a world-renowned tennis prodigy, but a horrific wrist injury during a match against Andy Roddick abruptly ended his young, professional career. Now, he’s living an aimless life, seemingly disappointing his father at every turn. However, when his dad goes on the offensive to prevent pickleball from taking over his country club, Dusty must pick a side: stick to his tennis roots or adapt and embrace the pickleball club he has started to hang around.

On paper, a plot exploring the rivalry between tennis and the rising tide of pickleball is ripe for comedy--especially when you give it an underdog twist. However, The Dink’s formulaic plot can be seen coming from a mile away, and more than a few jokes simply miss the mark. For instance (as seen in the trailer), the scened involving a doctor (Stiller) literally prescribing “pickleball” for Dusty--which Dusty doesn’t realize until he takes the prescription to the pharmacy--falls entirely flat. Writer Sean Clements’ script suffers from several of these eyerolling instances, leaving you wondering if his screenplay needed another polish. But despite these unforced errors, the film still shows potential, much like a newcomer who picks up a new sport and immediately gets the hang of it. There are genuine laughs to be had, and it’s largely thanks to Jake Johnson.

Jake Johnson has had an interesting post-New Girl career, and he proves here that he can absolutely anchor a comedy when given the right material. He carries The Dink for the most part through his persona as Dusty. While the performance might remind some viewers of his iconic role as Nick Miller, that doesn’t matter to me when he’s able to provide this film what it needs: laughs. In the supporting cast, Mary Steenburgen (Step Brothers) is good as a pickleball club member, while Aaron Chen serves up solid chuckles as a country club employee who frequently interacts with Dusty.

The fast-growing world of pickleball may ultimately be better suited for a TV comedy series, but The Dink serves as a solid pilot run for the sport’s onscreen potential. You can’t blame Apple for betting on another sports-centric project, as they already have given us one of the most memorable comedies in years centered around the world’s most popular sport (Ted Lasso). Given the talent assembled here, The Dink is admittedly a bit of a letdown. Still, it serves up enough laughs to be worth you tuning in if you’re looking for a new comedy to stream.

Rating: ★★★ (out of five)

The Odyssey follows Odysseus (Matt Damon) on his decade-long journey home following the Trojan War to reclaim his throne as King of Ithaca and reunite with his wife, Penelope (Anne Hathaway), and now grown-up son, Telemachus (Tom Holland). But rather than take a direct route home like his commander, Agamemnon (Benny Safdie), Odysseus, and his men find themselves navigating a treacherous detour through parts of the world where magic and dangerous mythical creatures lurk seemingly on every isle. Meanwhile, back in Ithaca, Penelope and Telemachus—along with their loyal servant, Eumaeus (John Leguizamo)—must fend off a swarm of power-hungry suitors salivating over the unoccupied throne, including the sinister Antinous (Robert Pattinson).

Unsurprisingly—and to state the obvious up front—The Odyssey is grand in scale and masterful in its technical execution. Through the lens of cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema, the film delivers cinematic vistas that never cease to amaze. Whether depicting a forest ambush by armored giants, a terrifying encounter with Cyclops, or intense chaos aboard Odysseus’ ship, the camera hurls you directly into the peril of the journey. Elevating what we see play out on screen is Ludwig Göransson, whose Oscar-worthy score drives the momentum with perfectly timed, pulse-pounding crescendos when the action ramps up. Furthermore, the extensive on-location shoots, production design, and costumes ground the mythology, providing a tactile authenticity rarely found in today’s green-screen-dominated blockbusters. Of course, all the above-mentioned components of the film come together in a breathtaking fashion that demands to be experienced in IMAX—Nolan’s definitive vision for the epic.

And yet, for all its epic scale, what you might not expect from The Odyssey is its surprising intimacy and exploration of the deeper themes behind the consequences of main character’s actions and their defiance of the gods. We bear witness to the raw elements of the human condition, testing the limits of “Zeus’ law” (the sacred duty of hospitality to strangers) and demonstrating how such codes can ultimately corrupt the very mortals the gods look down upon. At its core, the narrative gives us a better understanding of who Odysseus is, highlighting how his decisions permanently impact both him and the people who surround him in his kingdom and on the battlefield. This psychological toll is brilliantly showcased in one particular sequence when Odysseus encounters Sinon (Elliot Page) on the black sands of the underworld. In this haunting sequence, Sinon sees his captain for who he truly is, while the ghostly presence of fallen soldiers looming in the background forces Odysseus to confront the grim ramifications of his leadership.

Rarely have on-screen adaptations of Greek mythology cast their heroes in such a complex moral light. This internal struggle takes center stage, supplanting an overabundance of gods or magical elements teased in the film’s opening text. Sure, those fantastical aspects may be what audiences leave the theater buzzing about—especially during a few nightmare-inducing sequences that mark Nolan’s closest foray into pure horror. But ultimately, Nolan’s interpretation forces Odysseus to navigate his own internal compass just as carefully as his voyage home, offering a profound sense of clarity as to why Homer’s legendary character took so long to complete his journey. And as the voyage progresses, the film only grows more powerful, building up to an unforgettable third act that stands as one of the finest conclusions in Nolan’s filmography.

The cast of The Odyssey is uniformly excellent. Headlining the ensemble, Matt Damon delivers one of the better performances of his career as Odysseus. However, Anne Hathaway and Tom Holland—playing Odysseus’ wife and son, respectively—are arguably even better. Holland, in particular, finally lands a weighty role that proves his talents extend far beyond his usual spandex-clad superhero outings. Yet, where the cast truly hits it out of the park is in its supporting cast members. John Leguizamo is an outstanding presence as the loyal Eumaeus, while Robert Pattinson chews up the scenery as the sinister Antinous (I mean, what a year this guy will have had when the year comes to a close). Elliott Page’s Sinon and Samantha Morton’s Circe leave massive impressions, despite their limited screen time, and Himesh Patel shines as Odysseus’ second-in-command. Others who make appearances throughout with various screen time with noteworthy moments include Lupita Nyong’o as Helen of Troy, Charlize Theron as Calypso, Corey Hawkins as Polybus, and especially Zendaya as Athena.

Christopher Nolan recently described himself as the “representative of the audience” on set, and he pushes the limits of that philosophy with The Odyssey. While it is certainly the biggest undertaking of the filmmaker’s career to date, it’s difficult not to be wowed by the film’s profound lasting impression—one that will surely only deepen upon repeat viewings. Leading up to the release, the siege of Troy and the iconic wooden horse have been front and center in the marketing. And while that sequence is nothing short of breathtaking on screen, it serves as a brilliant allegory for the movie itself. What appears to be a colossal action spectacle on the surface hides a complex, unexpected core, culminating in a cinematic experience that defies our expectations just as boldly as Odysseus defies the gods.

Rating: ★★★★★

(out of five)

An English-language remake of the Spanish film The People Upstairs (in the credits as Sentimental), The Invite begins with Joe (Seth Rogen), a music teacher at a New York college appearing displeased with life since failing as a musician, reflecting on the last time he was happy with his wife Angela (Olivia Wilde), to whom he comes home and sees her laser focused on getting their apartment ready for a dinner party with their upstairs neighbors Hawk (Edward Norton) and Piña (Penelope Cruz). Joe and Angela bicker non-stop about everything from his forgetting to pick up wine and when they planned this night of social interaction, to Joe’s desire to ask the two about the rambunctious noise their fellow residents produce at night.

Hawk and Piña arrive when Joe and Angela are in the middle of their ceaseless argument, and the more put-together couple are quick to take note of the high tension between their hosts. Tension builds to a fever pitch until Joe decides on his own to confront their happier acquaintances about their aural cacophony, to which Hawk and Piña make a genuine apology, but then make their own invitation to an activity that piques the interest of Joe and Angela, inspiring hope that this new adventure could very well save their marriage.

Wilde improves upon her sophomore slump by approaching her third feature with her best directorial foot forward. The Invite drips with inspiration right at the beginning through a title sequence which divides the screen into a multitude of squares to introduce our characters, replicating a trend from the late 1960s-early 70s New Hollywood filmmaking movement. Meanwhile, creative staging and choices in the camerawork drive home Joe and Angela’s distance from each other in every shot of the two together, and compositions of Joe by his lonesome still feel isolating as if the proverbial walls are closing in on him.

The Invite was co-written by Rashida Jones and Will McCormack, who have been writing partners since Celeste and Jesse Forever released in 2012, and their penchant for crafting compelling relationship dynamics pays off here, as Joe and Angela’s unrelenting lines of dialogue in a given scene tell the story of two people who yearn to do more in their personal lives but feel like they are neither receiving ample support nor have enough power in their marriage. The film is also full of dry but sharp quips from every single character, whether it’s Joe’s snippy selfishness or Hawk’s peculiar fascination with random objects during Angela’s tour around the apartment.

Recurring motifs are also there to move the story forward and tell a melancholic tale about how Joe and Angela got to this contentious point in their union, whether it’s Joe’s assertive demands for his guests to not play music from his old band on their record player or his repeated back issues as a metaphor for the overwhelming responsibilities of family life. All four actors demonstrate phenomenal chemistry with each other, as Seth Rogen and Olivia Wilde trade Joe and Angela’s barbs and zingers with uncomfortable yet fascinating intensity, Edward Norton shows Hawk’s vulnerability in a revealing monologue, and Penelope Cruz conveys an almost seductive curiosity within Piña throughout intimate moments with Joe, in addition to a confident comfort to resolve an altercation with Hawk when the two lovers have a sudden disagreement.

Wilde is on top of her game with The Invite, but it does have so much dialogue delivered at such a fast pace that they oftentimes overlap, causing audiences to miss either a joke or a moment that reveals important details about our players. To that end, the unnerving string-based musical score from Devonté Hynes does add to the suspense and is an overall positive to the film, but on occasion overpowers the compelling verbal clashes McCormack and Jones have put to paper. It’s also worth noting that as the aforementioned motifs alluded to, Seth Rogen is playing the same overgrown manchild he always has since breaking through with Knocked Up in 2005.

But unlike his earlier stints as this character type, Rogen’s efforts here are more grounded, raw and realistic, and Wilde’s latest is all that plus a humorous, honest and heartfelt look at a relationship gone south. Audiences will be along for the movie’s breezy paced ride, laugh at the outrageousness unfolding among these two couples, watch with intrigue as sparks, freak flags and frustrations fly across this apartment, and find themselves empathizing with Joe and Angela at the end of the day. Middle age brings up a bevy of inner battles that bleed into marital relations, and Wilde replicates that before our eyes with an assured hand which keeps this night between neighbors true to life, and propels The Invite to one of the best movies of the summer.

Rating: ★★★★1/2 (out of five)

Thankfully, Chris Dortch Sr. and Chris Dortch II also offer its large audience of horror fans a virtual portion, which this time contained solid examples of genre entertainment and proverbial gems in the rough that are worth seeking out once they acquire distribution or make their way onto VOD. The films sought out in this edition include a pair of wonderful feature debuts, a psychedelic one-take odyssey, a love letter to a cinematic redheaded stepchild of the 1980s, and a recount of a forgotten but valiant effort to change news media for the better. The Dortches have consistently celebrated the handmade craft of making movies for thirteen years as of this writing, and this critic hopes to physically attend 2027’s summer camp for cinephiles. But until then, here begins Nashville Movie Dispatch’s recap of the 2026 Chattanooga Film Festival! All reviews are out of five stars.

Big City Pizza (Dusty Saunders, 2026) ★★★

Dusty Saunders is a writer and animator based in Los Angeles whose first feature Big City Pizza had its Tennessee premiere at the Chattanooga Film Festival. The movie follows Boney (Sean Berrie), a pizza delivery man (who also happens to be a skeleton, hence the name) starting his shift for the titular fictional pizza joint on the same night of the Omniball Championship, in which the city’s local team is playing what might as well be literal sportsball, as the game itself combines pieces from every single sport into one bonkers athletic competition. Boney juggles romantic feelings for his coworker Mia (Ali Graba) and demands from his overbearing boss with the deliveries on his route, which grow more and more bizarre and strange by the stop.

The best element of Big City Pizza is the animation. Saunders created the entire film in Blender entirely from Boney’s perspective, and the fruits of his DIY labors drop our hero into a trippy world full of vibrant colors and uncanny landscapes, plus a unique visual decision to have exterior storefronts and certain objects in the background of various scenes jitter in size and structure. Because of its first-person POV gimmick, Big City Pizza often feels like you’re watching someone play a video game which is both a positive and a detriment; on one hand the experience plays into a recurring motif of taking control of one’s life and even carries the tone of interacting with NPCs in an open world game, but on the other hand impatient audiences are left waiting for the pace to pick up. But Big City Pizza does indeed get going at the halfway mark, where it also clicks that Saunders’ feature is a laid back visualization of the absurd state of things, and in the director’s own words, a stoic but surreal and hilarious take on the hypernormalization of the cartoonish chaos taking place in our world today.

Sunshine Girls (Madeleine Hicks, 2025) ★★★★1/2

After making its world premiere at the 2025 Defy Film Festival in Nashville, Tennessee, Madeleine Hicks’ first feature film Sunshine Girls made the trek toward the virtual portion of the Chattanooga Film Festival, and deserves all the acclaim it’s received to date. In a low-oxygen future where scientists and government officials have legalized a “minimally invasive” surgery to allow women’s reproductive systems to host photosynthesis and produce air, unhappy housewife Elaine (Harley Walker) decides to become a “Sunshine Girl” by enlisting in this procedure. She moves to a medical facility for mental and physical preparation, where she meets and develops feelings for fellow Sunshine Girl Phoebe (Delaney Keith). But the unusually perky demeanor of their supervisor, Counselor Lauren (Heather LeRoy), suggests to the Sunshine Girls there’s more to this operation than meets the eye.

It can be debated that more physical effects might be necessary to make this more viscerally terrifying, but the intent of Sunshine Girls is not to scare. The induction videos’ distortion, LeRoy’s delightfully twisted performance, and the powerful imagery get across the grandiose ominousness of the ensemble’s dystopian situation along with stylish colors, moody shadows and ambient score. Writer/director Hicks matches that brilliantly with a quiet but dark sense of humor; questions about whether the Sunshine Girls initiative is good for land development during an early radio broadcast and Counselor Lauren’s admissions to volunteers are especially uproarious for those who catch the gags.

The other element Hicks implements is an indelible earnestness that comes through in the film’s budding relationship between Elaine and Phoebe, bolstered by the strength and chemistry that Walker and Keith have as actresses. A beautiful scene where the two tend to each other’s side effects is so weird and grody, but the way both characters create pleasure from their pain via love, friendship and camaraderie is full of lovely tenderness that comes through in their dialogue, intimate framing and their affecting performances. With Sunshine Girls, Hicks and company have made a heartrending plea for acceptance that feels like an internal cry underneath a smile, and one of the best examples of grassroots filmmaking.

Pitfall (James Kondelik, 2026) ★★

Don’t be fooled, Pitfall is not a film adaptation of the classic Atari 2600 video game of the same name, but it’s a pretty fair bet that premise would be more fun than what the folks at Cineverse and director James Kondelik actually brought to Chattanooga this year. Their Pitfall is a movie following siblings Scott (Marshall Williams) and Ashley (Alexandra Essoe) struggling to handle their shared trauma of losing their mother and father in a car accident five years earlier. They go on a camping trip with their respective significant others Gwen (Jordan Claire Robbins) and Charlie (Matt Hamilton) as well as Scott’s best friend Lars (Richard Harmon), only for Scott to be ensnared in a pitfall trap set up by a survivalist serial killer credited only as The Hunter (Randy Couture) and impale his leg on one of the many spikes below. From there, Scott must battle the internal demons he’s been suppressing since the death of his parents and trying to get himself out of his bloody predicament while Ashley, Charlie and company scour the wilderness to find him, only to be in the crosshairs of The Hunter and his myriad of weapons and forest traps.

Pitfall aims to be ‘The Most Dangerous Game meets Saw’ and succeeds as such when Randy Couture’s mostly silent monster is on the prowl. The special makeup effects provided from Masters FX are some of the gnarliest, most excessive gore effects recently created in the independent horror scene. Many limbs get torn up and blood spills in creative ways, doing an excellent job of rendering these deaths viscerally disgusting and The Hunter an intimidating threat, further emphasized by Randy Couture’s screen presence and body language. It’s also worth noting that Kondelik and his director of photography, Robert Zawistowski, make great use of their locations by staging this cast to run past beautiful moonlight filtered by a labyrinthian treeline, and framing Scott’s isolation in a wide shot that centers his pitfall in the frame and surrounds it with the underground darkness, like the world’s simplest yet most painful Dig Dug map ever devised.

Sadly, Pitfall overcomplicates its simple plot by trying to do too much. It aims to be both a slasher as well as a dramatic character piece about a brother and sister overcoming their traumas, but the problem is our heroes and their allies don’t have enough dimension to their personalities, as evidenced by the movie’s often flat and tired exposition which fails to justify the ensemble’s melodramatic approach to their performances, and their results more off-putting than endearing. The editing also tries to juggle a lot of Kondelik and co-writer Victor Rose’s ambitions with this story but falls apart with slapdash choices that come out of nowhere, whether it’s random side characters brought back in for the convenient sake of their dying so none of our core cast does, or sacrificing its structure for a baffling emotional pull during a climax that feels longer than it actually is. And all this is before mentioning the shoddy CGI effects from computer-generated blood to Scott’s initial slip into his underground hell. Pitfall tries so hard to do more than your average slasher but ends up this festival’s biggest disappointment.

This is Buzz (Mark Pellington, 2026) ★★★★

The Chattanooga Film Festival also celebrated Mark Pellington, who came to town with his new documentary This Is Buzz, a chronicle of the short-lived MTV program called Buzz which he co-produced with Jon Klein in 1990. Both creators as well as various executives from MTV’s heyday recall their experiences watching the show’s assembly in the editing bay, detail how the avant-garde magazine-style news show’s concept came about, and propose the consistent idea that Buzz was ahead of its time, and even a prescient manifestation of how the general public would consume content and search for information on the Internet today.

While there isn’t much of a challenge to all the claims about Buzz’s forgotten place in television history (the show’s greatest foe, executive Doug Herzog, is not interviewed), and all the constant positivity about the show can cause this doc to drag in parts, This Is Buzz nevertheless excels at informing audiences who missed the proverbial boat about what Buzz did that was unheard of at its airing, from the show’s collage-style editing and trust in its viewers to think critically and put together what a story was saying for themselves, to the ingenious approach of assigning super 8 cameras to youths all over the globe who volunteered to shoot man on the street interviews in their home countries about the issue of the day.

Pellington also succeeds at demonstrating how his project with Klein differentiated itself visually from other shows through the Dada-esque visual flourishes that arise when the documentary does a three-way split screen between a talking head, a Buzz clip and an abstract animation. Finally, This Is Buzz does an excellent job of persuading us that a show like this doc’s subject is a necessity for the digital age with the chilling juxtaposition of Eric Garner’s 2020 death by police brutality next to a Buzz segment in Ghana encouraging the African Goju fighting technique as an act of self-defense, as well as the underlying thought that Buzz was the ideal example of media bringing populations together through not only a global fanbase, but also a shared humanity and generosity in spirit. That was at the heart of Pellington’s project, and This Is Buzz makes that clear with infectious energy, rebellious soul and lovely fondness.

The Mothman Prophecies (Mark Pellington, 2002) ★★★★

The celebration of Mark Pellington continued with a repertory screening of The Mothman Prophecies, his 2002 narrative feature about John Klein (Richard Gere), a journalist for the Washington Post, who’s taken it upon himself to solve the mystery surrounding the death of his wife Mary (Debra Messing) following a car accident. The doctors examining her believe a glioblastoma in her brain to be the catalyst, but John discovers she had drawn several pictures of a moth creature called The Mothman that appeared in her vision on that fateful night. John’s findings and growing obsession lead him to Point Pleasant, West Virginia, where he is assisted by the town’s sheriff Connie Mills (Laura Linney) and even helps with the welfare of Gordon Smallwood (Will Patton), a local man hearing ominous warnings of upcoming mass death events in the United States, and having strange visions not unlike his late wife.

The Mothman Prophecies may be thin on characterization and some of the visual effects are dated, but that’s more than made up for by fascinating direction. Pellington’s experience as a promo director for MTV detailed in This Is Buzz pays off here through abstract transitional elements like a speed ramp on an aerial of a city skyline, as well as blurry slow motion in the film’s more emotional developments, while compositions with shallow depths of field convey John’s loss through beautiful artistry, such as a shot of John blurred in the background during a phone call conveying his impending distance from sanity. Pellington’s third feature also oozes with an ominous mood and intrigue, whether it’s through moody shadows that cross characters’ faces or voice distortion effects and the deep, dark minimalist score from electronic duo Tomandandy. It all combines to communicate the difficulty and melancholy part of moving forward in life after personal trauma or global catastrophes with the awareness that both circumstances are beyond our control, while the quiet fire Richard Gere sells as John conjures the feeling we’re all watched by the same dark entity as he is in a powerful display of the human condition, showing our nature to persevere even when the world is at its darkest. With that, it’s understandable why moviegoing audiences weren’t ready to face that four months after 9/11, but thankfully The Mothman Prophecies has aged into a dreary and prescient but honest horror-mystery about the cosmic unfairness of our world that sadly still holds up today.

Demonetize (Alexander Boyd Watson, 2026) ★★★1/2

It wouldn’t surprise this critic if moviegoing audiences are clamoring for a movie where Internet influencers and/or content creators are killed off one by one, and thankfully writer-director Alexander Boyd Watson and his co-writer Janine Hogan are up for the challenge with Demonetize. This horror-comedy follows a band of social media stars accepting challenges from ex-television ghost hunter Martin Robinson (Sean Carrigan) to stay one night in a house once populated by a God-fearing but cannibalistic family of three for the cash prize of $100,000. The show’s special guests include Logan Paul stand-in Paul Cory (actual social media personality Cherdleys), ditzy makeup tutor Tara Ahlquist (Lexi Collins), “face dancing” trendsetter Brie Padilla (Alice Wen), Spencer Adams (Juliano Hodges), a tech promoter with an unconventional dating partner, and Jane Lincoln (Janine Hogan), an ex-comedienne on a content creating sabbatical. But little do these cyberspace celebrities know that Martin and his assistant Terrence (Matty Cardarople) are not just using them to prove to the world that ghosts are real, but for their own selfish interests.

Demonetize does lay its satire on thick at some points and may not have ideas of which we’re not already aware, and marinates a little too long in the otherwise familiar stereotypes of content creators. But once these players have posted their final videos and given their phones away for the night, Watson’s film gives way to great verbal comedy and creative character development, helped by the actors doing a stellar job of timing their one-liners. A humorous example comes after Martin informs the hapless ensemble their managers agreed to a condition for them, to which Paul responds with, ‘My mom’s a dumb bitch sometimes’, while one in perilous situations comes when the team is confronted by a demonic animal, to which Brie responds with a sweet, perky and oblivious “Is it cute?”

Hogan and Watson’s sharp writing also makes Demonetize a standout of this year’s festival through biting at the self-absorption that comes with content creation until it gives way to the cast’s humanity, such as an instance where Spencer talks about how many followers he’s lost, to which Tara responds with, ‘I lose followers all the time,’ only for the techbro to fire back: “I didn’t ask.” That extends to the progression of each player; Brie is very agreeable with Jane instead of having a real conversation with her upon their group splitting up, but their dynamic allows the dancing influencer to become vulnerable about how isolating it is to be a live-streamer. The sequences of terror also match the film’s comedic elements and character drama through novel practical effects and designs for the spectres haunting our heroes. Add an enjoyable bookended cameo from genre film legend Doug Jones, and you have a solid, sharp horror-comedy making the suggestion that social media stars should not make their content for monetary gain, but to better connect with people.

MegaForce (Hal Needham, 1982) ★

If you need more evidence that the 80s were a wild time, look no further than MegaForce. This obscure relic follows General Edward Byrne-White (Edward Mulhare) and his assistant Major Zara (the late, great and underappreciated Persis Khambatta) as they trek their peaceful Republic of Sardun to enlist a globally yet secretly known shadow army called the MegaForce led by Hunter (Barry Bostwick), and populated by cowboy Dallas (Michael Beck), Hispanic Lopez (J. Victor Lopez) and Asian Suki (Evan C. Kim, and yes, that’s all the characterization this movie gives its viewers) in a fight to stop incursions from the neighboring mercenary Guerera (Frank Silva) who slowly but surely grows an army of laborers exploited by the government of his fictional home country of Gamibia.

After the success of Smokey And The Bandit and both Cannonball Run movies, director Hal Needham had the ambition to make a blockbuster franchise that rivaled Star Wars and Mad Max. Unfortunately, the fruits of his labor ended up nominated for three Razzie awards after its release in 1982 and it’s easy to see why, because like many other 80s action films, MegaForce cares more about selling toys than crafting a compelling story or memorable characters. The first half is spent in the team’s secret base where scientists show Zara and Edward all their cool gadgets and rattle off all their abilities in boring exposition, while little effort is made to make Guerera a formidable villain. In fact, Hunter divulges a revelation about him that supplies potential for added drama, but the script doesn’t bother to explore that conflict or develop the relationships amongst our heroes in any convincing way because the dialogue is flat and clunky. So much about MegaForce is dated, from its war-obsessed Reagan-era patriotism and a score that can’t decide whether it’s 70s funk or 80s rock to the blatant sexism on display through extreme closeups that tilt up Khambatta’s full body, and even a turret on the top of a vehicle that projects holograms of scantily clad women to distract the enemies. Yes, really.

The IntroVision technology makes our protagonists appear like they’re standing on action figure playsets come to life and what little action that exists is entertaining, if only because the vehicles are framed like the toys from which they’re based, but those elements aren’t enough to elevate this up from 99 minutes of nothing. MegaForce was the disastrous equivalent of playing with off-brand action figures from Goodwill, and a movie devoid of enough riffable moments to put it on the level of The Room, but its legacy as one of 1982’s biggest flops will have anyone seeking it out of morbid curiosity wondering how it got made in the first place.

Making MegaForce (Bob Lindenmayer) ★★★1/2

Thankfully, filmmaker Bob Lindenmayer has an answer to that question. Despite Hal Needham’s failed blockbuster’s reputation as one of the worst movies of 1982 and a largely forgotten movie by the American populace, Lindenmayer is a die-hard fan of MegaForce to the point of having the largest collection of the film’s memorabilia and even vehicles piloted in the film which he’s refurbished to their original working conditions. Lindenmayer’s first feature documentary, Making MegaForce, had the initial intent of exploring his collecting habits, only for the project to turn into something much bigger, snagging interviews with the film’s co-writers and producers Albert S. Ruddy and Andre Morgan as well as its star Barry Bostwick, with whom he forms a special friendship along his quest to make people appreciate MegaForce better.

Making MegaForce is all over the place with its semblance of a narrative, often feeling more like an assembly of various stops on Bob’s collection spree with interviews from cast, crewmembers and producers peppered in with no clear throughline or motivation. What’s also worth noting is that some of the more rudimentary editing choices, such as the use of basic fonts and lack of a background behind vertical photos, may be off-putting for more seasoned film connoisseurs. As an informative experience, however, Lindenmayer’s documentary is an absorbing watch when Ruddy and Morgan spill secrets about the production, and again when crewmembers reveal the reckless extent to how unsafely a lot of the action sequences were managed, with one stuntperson recalling his passing out behind the wheel of a vehicle due to smoke inhalation.

Lindenmayer is also aware of how silly his pursuits may look to the average person, as his interactions with Barry Bostwick are full of many hilarious moments, from Bostwick’s getting up and leaving when asked about the experience of riding a flying motorcycle to his and Bob’s humorous replication of Hunter and Zara’s “romantic” scene as silhouettes in front of a pink backdrop. Bob also isn’t afraid to get vulnerable as a subject by divulging early on why the summer MegaForce came out was so pivotal in his upbringing, in addition to the personal nature of his attachment to Needham’s minimum opus. The results hoist Making MegaForce up to an engaging reminder that we all have our guilty pleasures and obscure favorites (eg. millennials who grew up with Crash Bandicoot and Bubsy video games), and a feel-good story about an ordinary man making his unordinary dreams come true by building an idyllic world that doesn’t exist for his own mental health, and then pass it down to his children who’ve joined him in his hobby. Now can we get a documentary about how Tuff Turf got made next?

Fatal Frame (Mari Asato, 2014) ★★★★

This critic could only experience one of the Chattanooga Film Festival’s famous Red Eye secret screenings this year, but thankfully it was Fatal Frame, a J-horror gem curated by Fangoria staff writer Amber T. Based on the video game franchise of the same name as well as the book Fatal Frame: A Curse Affecting Only Girls by Eiji Ōtsuka, Mari Asato’s 2014 film takes place at an all-girls Catholic school where Aya (Ayami Nakajo) has mysteriously locked herself in her dormitory and refuses to come out. Her classmates try to bring her back through an ancient ritual of kissing her photo in hopes of making their unrequited love come true, only for all who take part to begin seeing ghosts and vanish into thin air before coming back having inexplicably drowned. It’s up to Aya and her fellow student Michi (Aoi Morikawa) to solve the mystery of the curse surrounding their school and why she’s at the center of its chaos.

Amber T. mentioned in her introduction to Fatal Frame that the film’s director Mari Asato, was mentored by Japanese film legend Kiyoshi Kurosawa, and Asato demonstrates what she learned from him very well; combining clever staging and moody shadows to add a creepy atmosphere which conjures chills when a ghost stands right behind an unsuspecting girl at the bathroom sink. But Asato also separates herself from Kurosawa through her own unique touches such as keeping the sound of superiors’ footsteps down hallways at a deafening volume to suggest a romantically repressive ruling class, and a creative musical score well layered with instruments that aurally build more suspense as the film goes along, and even implements jug blowing in a pivotal scene. One of the best examples of Asato’s visual flourishes is a smash cut from a wide shot of Michi eating with classmate Kasumi (Kasumi Yamaya) eating at a cafeteria to a closeup of Kasumi facing the camera head-on against a black background, as if she’s gone from reality to an abstract, nightmarish space. The brief elements of surrealism are gloomy but full of familiar imagery, and while the narrative does an excellent job of keeping audiences guessing the real nature behind this curse, it gets unnecessarily twisty toward the conclusion, and could have ended five or ten minutes earlier. Despite that, however, Fatal Frame stays on the positive end of the video game-to-film spectrum for its solid performances plus Asato’s directorial vision, and is an overlooked piece of horror ready to be rediscovered.

The King of Black Goo (Andrew Zappin) ★★★★1/2

The King of Black Goo world premiered virtually at the Chattanooga Film Festival from Los Angeles-based filmmaker Andrew Zappin, receiving a rapturous reception in addition to the Dangerous Visions Award in the Feature category, both of which are well deserved for this stellar debut feature. Lou Vile (DJ Qualls) is a bitter, lonely and all around unpleasant podcast host who believes he’s a fearless revolutionary, but elects to change his pessimistic ways after romantic feelings for his single mom neighbor Oralee (Marisé Alvarez) give him a heart attack on the spot. He enlists for an experimental operation called Positive Personality Transformation through seedy medical practitioner Dokter Pfeffer (Matt Malloy) who promises to change his inside and outside with only a 10% chance of relapse or dangerous side effects. The radiation procedure successfully transforms Lou into a man deserving of love, and under the new name of Uli Love, he pursues a relationship with Oralee, getting married to her one year later. In that time, he’s become the host of a successful podcast themed around love and positivity through a network run by Opulence Montenegro (Margaret Cho), to resentment from his true crime podcaster colleague Digger (Johnno Wilson). All is well until Uli’s punk rocker mother Mutha Teresa (Kathleen Wilhoite) returns, and brings insecurities back to our hero in the form of black goo in and around his lungs, threatening his dreamlike existence.

Zappin succeeds in creating the universe of The King of Black Goo as a place appearing straight out of an absurdist cartoon to visually show audiences how our protagonist perceives the world, from an early palm tree covered in CGI flames along the California sidewalk and hilarious sight gags on hospital and street signs when Lou bikes around LA, but as Uli, his home is lined with beautiful floral-printed wallpaper while the outside environment is full of gorgeous, intentionally oversaturated colors. That also extends to the immaculate way production design tells Zappin’s story, such as when Uli is surrounded by black and white balloons mirroring his struggle to maintain emotional neutrality during a photo shoot, and many plants decorating Opulence’s office communicate the performative self-righteousness of podcast culture.

As both sides of the same podcast host coin, DJ Qualls adds an excellent lead performance to what’s been an unsung career as a character actor; he expresses Lou’s toxic vitriol for everything with relentless energy and exaggerated facial expressions, but always wears a smile on his face after he’s become Uli, even as doubt and insecurity creeps through his eyes. Select scenes could highlight the strength of Qualls’ and Alvarez’s performances a little more by cutting in tighter on extended wide shots, and it can be debated that an opportunity was missed for the film’s practical effects to pay off through an ebony explosion for the ages, but Zappin wants to do more than another clone of The Substance in his first feature. He wants to make an original statement about how we can retain positive emotions despite all the negative happenings in our past and the world at large, achieving as much through a natural, well-written progression from cartoonish absurdism to grounded reality via brilliant pacing and heartfelt restraint. The King of Black Goo is a great sign that Zappin and everyone around him could very well be kings of independent cinema as their careers move forward, as well as a prime example of the handmade, collaborative spirit of moviemaking that the Chattanooga Film Festival celebrates.

Minions & Monsters follows a duo of Minions named James and Henry, who, along with their tribe of fiendish yellow compadres, scour the globe in search of new villains to serve. Just as they find their groove, something inevitably goes wrong, sending them off to the next master. But at long last, they land in Hollywoodland during the Golden Age of cinema. It’s here where James and Henry use their love for storytelling to forge their own path to success in the movie business. However, in their desperate attempt to secure their place in the city of dreams, they accidentally conjure up the worst kind of trouble, which puts everything in peril: real monsters.

Following an opening sequence at a film history museum, you might think you’re in for more of the same. The early slapstick certainly delivers the silly laughs that kids expect. But once the narrative firmly plants its feet in Hollywoodland, Minions & Monsters truly takes flight. It becomes a deeply detailed meta celebration of cinema, overflowing with Easter eggs and surprisingly dark jokes tailored specifically for adults. Whether spoofing the silent era or the introduction of talkies, the amount of detail from films and characters that helped shape cinema is terrific and are ones that won’t lose the interest of kids viewing the film; let’s not forget that the film on the whole is still rightfully aimed at kids. And when the film eventually shifts into monster territory, that in and of itself keeps things fresh, ensuring that its brisk 90-minute runtime never ceases to entertain audiences of every age.

The worlds the Minions inhabit have always been colorful and packed with the kind of humor that draws in younger audiences time and time again. But six films in, this franchise needed to do something different. With Minions & Monsters, writer-director Pierre Coffin delivers exactly that, crafting an entry that stands tall as the best installment since the original Despicable Me. While the iconic yellow henchmen—and their beloved bananas—have been pop-culture staples for over a decade, keeping the magic alive required a pivot of sorts, and that is exactly what this seventh entry provides. It’s such a good time that cinephiles will rightfully argue it was made specifically for them. If anyone thought this franchise was nearing its expiration date like three-day old bananas, Minions & Monsters proves otherwise, showing there is plenty of fuel left in the tank for the franchise as a whole.

RATING: ★★★1/2

(out of five stars)

Pixar wouldn’t be what it is without Toy Story. Easily one of the best franchises in cinema history, these films have given us so many unforgettable memories about our own childhood and loving our toys before we inevitably grow up. Over three decades, audiences of all ages have come to cherish what Woody, Buzz, Jessie, and the rest of the gang have brought to our lives.

So ranking all five Toy Story films is an impossible task, but here I go anyway. Just know that no matter their number, all of these are pretty close to perfection.

#5 Toy Story 4

A fourth movie of this beloved series seemed to serve no purpose after everything we went through with Toy Story 3. But we are oh so wrong. From the classic characters to the hilarious new ones, it’s still at the top of its game. Woody gets his own emotional, soul-searching story of purpose, coming to a fork(y) in the road of what kind of toy he wants to be. No one should be shocked that the animation is spectacular, and the wonderful new direction director Josh Cooley takes these toys in is unexpectedly touching, funny, and positively profound.

#4 Toy Story 5

Bursting with girl power, this latest entry is just as exceptional as the others. This time around it’s Jesse who gets to finally shine, adding a fresh perspective to a timely story where tech is conquering our children. Pixar’s brilliant choice to not constantly bash screen time is highly effective, opting instead to explore issues much more consequential involving kids feeling isolated and hiding in fear of being themselves, which could very well hold them back from forming genuine connections that could blossom into lifelong friendships. It’s wonderfully sweet, earnest and insightful. Woody and Buzz are distinctly delightful as always and Conan O’Brien’s Smarty Pants is hilarious. At the same time, too many of our favorite toys are partially pushed aside. Though, with some Toy Story 2 nostalgia sprinkled in - it’s Jessie and Bullseye who are riding high, providing poignant moments about being there at the right time even if that time flies by. It mattered. Toys matter.

#3 Toy Story

The one that started it all. Woody and Buzz became a part of our lives in a film about toys and their lasting effect on a child and vice versa. Unlike anything we had seen before, Toy Story is madly inventive in its storytelling, paving the way for future animated movies to find the heart, humor, and meaning of life in so many unique possible ways.

#2 Toy Story 2

It’s Buzz’s turn to rescue Woody in this spectacular and substantial sequel that takes our beloved toys out of Andy’s neighborhood to discover a whole new world. And in Woody’s case - a whole new family. We get the great pleasure of being introduced to Jessie and Bullseye, two incredible toys that have immensely added to the greatness of this franchise. Toy Story 2 also marks a significant turning point in its storytelling. The series begins to go much deeper into what it means for a toy to become outdated, be abandoned, and finding a new purpose when the playing is over. It’s an emotional gut punch to imagine Andy not being a part of these toys’ life. It’s a future we didn’t think was possible until now. Toy Story was growing up right in front of our eyes.

#1 Toy Story 3

An end of an era. In what began over 15 years ago, Woody, Buzz Lightyear and the gang have been through a lot. They have fought, been lost and kidnapped, but they always managed to stick together and find their way back home. And their dedication and loyalty remained with Andy all through his childhood and beyond. But, Toy Story 3 is about letting go and moving on in an incredibly heartfelt, endearing finale, instantly cementing Toy Story as one of the greatest trilogies of all time. There’s excitement, suspense, and humor all involving toys, yet the movie delivers a miraculous human experience.

Leviticus follows Naim (Joe Bird), a homosexual teenager freshly moved into a small town around Victoria, Australia with his devout mother Arlene (Mia Wasikowska). Naim becomes attracted to his classmate Ryan (Stacy Clausen) and sees him on the outskirts of town for affectionate explorations of his first love, but soon discovers that Ryan is also seeing a boy named Hunter (Jeremy Blewitt) on the side, and informs Hunter’s parents of their encounters out of jealousy.

This leads Hunter’s family to calling a religious zealot referred to as The Deliverance Healer (Nicholas Hope) who seemingly “cures” Ryan of his supposed affliction with a frightening spiritual ritual, but Arlene calls upon his services to put Naim through the ordeal as well. The results of this hex see Ryan and Naim cursed with the constant presence of a violent entity that only they can see, one which takes the form of the person they desire most: each other. The two boys are left trying to find a way to rid themselves of this curse as it drives a devastating wedge through their relationship and threatens to kill either one or both of them.

Leviticus is a solid indie horror movie for its smart writing and direction. Chiarella demonstrates great restraint to keep The Deliverance Healer from quoting exact passages from the third book of the Old Testament verbatim, restricting the messages of God’s wrath on those disobedient to Him within the title of the film alone. The script also does a good job of establishing what an attack by the entity looks like to unaffected passers-by in the movie’s opening scene, and making its appearance slightly different from the actual Ryan in instances where Naim sees two Ryans in the same relative location.

Chiarella also makes simple visual choices to tell his story, often placing the viewer in Naim’s perspective with shallow depth of field that keeps Ryan in sharp focus while the streetlights they pass make for a lovely background bokeh which not only creates a beautiful image but also communicates that Ryan is the center of Naim’s world. Conversely, Naim’s uncertainty and distrust ramps up the tension when a faint blur of Ryan’s figure appears out of focus in the background as he traverses his school’s hallway.

Another element that injects Leviticus with its unsettling horror are the drones Jed Kurzel produces for the musical score, and lead actors Joe Bird and Stacy Clausen are also great in doing the emotional heavy lifting in their excellent lead performances. Bird in particular excels in conveying the nonverbal conflict going on within Naim’s mind as he ponders in the moment whether or not to fight the demon terrorizing him not knowing it may or may not be the object of his affection, and Clausen matches him with an unbridled intensity in his facial expressions as well as line delivery when he feels deathly threatened by the monster haunting him.

Leviticus is a solid first horror movie for Adrian Chiarella, but even though the movie is a tight and breezy 85 minutes that’s refreshing for most theater crowds, there’s room for Naim and Ryan’s relationship to be developed because we’re dropped right in the middle of it as soon as the film begins, creating a jarring start. The biggest strike against it, however, is that it doesn’t entirely feel like it has its own unique voice, in part because the execution of the terror sequences is so reminiscent to David Robert Mitchell’s masterpiece It Follows, that some viewers will just feel like watching that movie instead.

But the niche Chiarella is targeting with his debut feature will relate to the trials and tribulations Naim and Ryan face on-screen, because despite its familiarity to other films, Leviticus is a bleak and unnerving, but honest and heartrending depiction of the self-hatred imprinted on LGBTQ+ youths in religious communities, and a terrifying visualization of conversion therapy done by God’s wrath. Moviegoers will empathize with Naim as he isolates himself by running through darkness to escape his romantic thoughts of Ryan, cringe over all the brutal, bloody pain these two boys inflict upon themselves and each other, and come away with a better understanding of what many homosexual adolescents experience as they come of age. It’s terrifyingly real in that regard, and that’s why horror fans and queer audiences alike should seek out Leviticus.

Rating: ★★★1/2 (out of five)

The Furious follows a tradesman with a grey past (Xie Miao) on a mission to rescue his kidnapped daughter (Yang Enyou) from a criminal empire. Along the way, he encounters a journalist (Joe Taslim) investigating the same syndicate for his own reasons. And when their paths collide, they team up to dismantle a criminal network that stretches further than either could have imagined.

Once the plot kicks in, The Furious is almost entirely a thrill ride. That said, there are a few moments that could have been finely tuned or cut completely. Clocking in at around an hour and 50 minutes, you definitely feel the runtime during a pivotal sequence in the final act. Viewers will know it when they see it (no spoilers here), but the script could have been reworked to deliver a much tighter conclusion. Additionally, a subplot involving the daughter interacting with other kidnapped children could easily have been left on the cutting room floor. If the film had trimmed these two aspects, then it would sit right alongside The Raid, a film many of us still talk about to this day. Regardless, this film is still so much fun.

The stunt work puts most modern action films to shame. You’ll frequently find yourself gasping, cheering, or just nodding in approval at the onscreen chaos. From brutal hand-to-hand combat to the use of everyday objects as weapons, The Furious continuously surprises. And just as you find yourself asking, “How are they going to top that?” the next sequence miraculously raises the bar.

Ultimately, the sheer mayhem of The Furious easily paves over its shortcomings, which are mostly just nitpicks anyway. This film delivers the goods and embarrasses other recent genre entries (looking at you, Mortal Kombat 2). And as the summer box office heats up and audiences return to theaters in numbers we haven’t seen since before the COVID-19 pandemic, you do not want to miss seeing this on the big screen. Buckle up for an indisputably fun ride—it’s the most fun I’ve had at the movies so far this year.

RATING: ★★★★

(out of five stars)

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Pressure follows Group Captain James Stagg (Andrew Scott), a British meteorologist recommended to Dwight D. Eisenhower (Brendan Fraser) by Winston Churchill as “the best of the best.” With just 72 hours until D-Day, Stagg is brought in to forecast the weather, determining the exact window when Allied forces can safely storm the beaches of Normandy. The stakes couldn’t be higher: conditions need to be precise, and getting it wrong could throw off the invasion entirely, jeopardizing the fate of the free world. Adding to the tension is US meteorologist Irving P. Krick (Chris Messina), who constantly butts heads with Stagg over forecasting methods, creating friction as both men race to secure the best possible outcome.

As my colleague Mike noted after an early press screening, Pressure might have been best served as a short film or documentary—a sentiment I share. The incredible true story of the people behind these logistical decisions would make for an exceptional documentary if done right. Still, this live-action adaptation delivers the goods. While the narrative might be a bit light on plot and remains confined to a handful of rooms throughout the runtime, it’s still informative and tense. And best of all, the brisk 90-minute runtime and strong performances ensure this chamber-piece war drama flies right by.

Andrew Scott (Ripley, Sherlock) leads the charge, proving once again that when given the right material, he will deliver an excellent performance and does so here as Stagg. Brendan Fraser (The Mummy) is solid as Dwight D. Eisenhower, even if a few of his outbursts feel slightly forced. The supporting cast shines as well: Kerry Condon (F1) is great as Stagg’s capable assistant, Chris Messina (The Mindy Project) brings a genuine energy to Irving P. Krick, and Damian Lewis (Band of Brothers) is fine casting as Bernard Montgomery.

When Stagg breaks down the sheer importance of the weather in the film’s first half, you quickly realize how vital this overlooked aspect of D-Day preparation truly was. While Pressure probably won’t be dominating the awards circuit, it’s a highly informative and engaging look at a critical, behind-the-scenes moment in world history. By the time the climax hits, you feel the crushing weight of just how many things had to go perfectly right for the invasion to succeed. Despite its quiet subject matter, Pressure sticks the landing, turning a daily talking point—the weather—into a genuinely compelling historical thriller.

RATING: ★★★1/2

(out of five stars)

*The following contains spoilers from the film, so you’ve been warned.*

The Mandalorian and Grogu centers on another mission for our favorite space cowboy and his Force-sensitive green companion. A New Republic leader (Sigourney Weaver) tasks the duo with tracking down Rotta the Hutt (Jeremy Allen White), the son of Jabba, to bring him to the remaining Hutt family in exchange for vital New Republic intel.

Yes, the plot feels like another season of the show: another bounty for the man in armor and his little friend. But instead of being carved into 30-minute episodes over two months, we get a complete, streamlined adventure in just over two hours. Remember in the 2000s when your favorite television show would air a two-hour TV movie as a weekend “must-see” event? That is exactly what this is—but scaled up for the big screen. There are scenes shot for IMAX that simply cannot be replicated at home, like the opening AT-AT sequence, Mando battling an aquatic monster, the tense encounters at the Hutt fortress: you cannot get that same visceral, visual experience on a standard television, nor can a soundbar match the weight of Oscar-winner Ludwig Göransson’s exceptional score.

Director Jon Favreau understands this perfectly, and he knows how to invite audiences into this film even if they haven’t watched a single episode of the Disney+ series. He delivers a low-stakes, entertaining film built on familiar Star Wars elements. While other directors might have overcomplicated the lore, Favreau—a veteran behind the camera who successfully launched the MCU with Iron Man—knows exactly how to feed general audiences. This is the kind of accessible filmmaking that welcomes new viewers into Mando and Grogu’s world, inevitably driving them back to watch where it all started on streaming.

But here is what I think gets lost among the people griping: The Mandalorian and Grogu focuses almost entirely on its two main stars. There are no narrative distractions, no shoehorned cameos, awful de-aging, or CGI resurrections of deceased actors—crutches that Disney has driven into the ground since acquiring the franchise from George Lucas. The film features other human characters, but they are few and far between. As for the encounters our leads do have, I thought this tweet summed it up perfectly:

The film keeps the focus squarely on Mando and Grogu’s ever-growing relationship, which is exactly why audiences are drawn to this corner of the Star Wars universe right now. The Grogu-focused stretch of the film is the best part of the film, and underscores exactly why people are so invested in this duo. And let’s be honest: if it weren’t for the massive success of The Mandalorian, the franchise might still be six feet under thanks to the awful taste The Rise of Skywalker left in our collective mouths.

Is this film perfect? Absolutely not. Is it one of the best Star Wars films? That’s a stretch. It has its flaws—like Jeremy Allen White voicing a Hutt (someone please find this guy an agent who will hand him better projects), and a narrative that doesn’t exactly throw any curveballs.

Regardless, you get a solid two-plus hours of everybody’s favorite duo taking care of business, blending blaster fire and Force abilities with genuine humor and heart. Star Wars is always best experienced in a theater, but not every story needs the fate of the entire galaxy resting at the center of the plot. Sometimes, you just need to watch a heavily-armored single dad and his frog-eating, telekinetic toddler clock in for a shift, and that’s why The Mandalorian and Grogu works.

Tuner tells the story of Niki (Leo Woodall), an apprentice piano tuner who spends his days driving around New York City with his boss (Dustin Hoffman) servicing pianos in homes and businesses. A formerly skilled pianist himself, Niki suffers from hyperacusis (hypersensitivity to sound), but his acute hearing allows him to expertly tune instruments to perfection. Though the job pays, it’s barely enough to make ends meet. Desperate for cash after an unexpected crisis, Niki remembers a previous tuning gig where his sensitive ears allowed him to help a security group open a safe. Realizing his hyperacusis is the ultimate safecracking tool, Niki turns to a life of crime that becomes lucrative. And complicating his new double life is a blossoming romance with a talented piano player (Havana Rose Liu).

Directed and co-written by Daniel Roher (whose 2022 documentary Navalny won the Academy Award for Best Documentary), the young filmmaker proves he has a keen eye for standout projects, and Tuner is no exception. Using a unique hearing condition as a safecracking tool provides a clever twist on standard heist tropes, and clocking in at a brisk 100 minutes, the film wastes no time getting to the crux of the plot. While some plot beats feel familiar—such as Niki’s motivations for turning to crime and the romantic subplot that crosses path with the double life—the execution is what matters. After all, as I’ve noted in previous reviews, true originality is rare these days.

Leading the cast is Leo Woodall, who delivers a fantastic performance as Niki. Showcasing impressive emotional depth and a natural sense of humor, Woodall proves he is a rising star with the potential to anchor even bigger roles; needless to say, Hollywood needs more up-and-comers like him. The same can be said of Havana Rose Liu. Her chemistry with Woodall keeps you invested in their budding relationship. And, of course, the great Dustin Hoffman never fails to deliver, bringing wonderful, supporting gravity as Niki’s mentor.

Ultimately, Tuner delivers from start to finish. It weaves a satisfying narrative that hits all the right dramatic notes while offering surprising chuckles along the way—much like a beautiful piano melody filled with unexpected chords. Fueled by masterful sound design that perfectly captures both the beauty of the instruments and the tension of a heist, Tuner is a highly satisfying thriller that demands to be viewed in theaters.

Rating: ★★★★1/2 (out of five stars)

Looking back on its release in December of 2022, I remember a distinct feeling from the trailers of not knowing what the fuck the movie was even about. All of the good buzz I heard was based around how ambitious the film was, how long it was, and how wild it was. It was more “Chazelle really went for it - wow” than it was “what a great story this is.” I pride myself on being able to glean a positive from even the worst cinematic experience, but anecdotally speaking, if I’m watching trailers and having a hard time connecting to anything from it, I can’t imagine what my mom is thinking watching that trailer. What’s there for casual moviegoers who aren’t keeping tabs on Chazelle’s filmography to latch onto? You were supposed to go see Babylon because Brad Pitt and Margot Robbie were in it, and that should have been enough! But, the masses spoke with their wallets - they didn’t see it.

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