Obsession

Bear wishes for his crush Nikki to love him more than anyone else in the world, but when the wish unexpectedly comes true, things slowly but surely start to get out of hand.

Though we’ve seen many films about “being careful what you wish for”, none have transcended the concept quite like this one into a terrifying and bone-chilling experience that’s destined to become a modern horror classic. The film examines romance, gender roles, and even the tired and true concept of possession in a way that’s far more twisted and demented than any other movie in recent memory.

At is irresistible center is Inde Navaratte, giving one of the best performances the horror genre has ever seen as Nikki. When we first meet Nikki, Navarette allows us to discover a full and layered person and a part of her own story, far greater than the image Bear sees her as, and when the wish begins to take control and basically puppeteer her body, Navarette is chilling in every moment. Her physical commitment is unpredictable as the actor embodies an inhuman entity in a human body, including the physical toll it takes on her. All that also gets so under our skin by reminding us pretty often that this was all our main character’s doing.

The film thrives in ambiguity, including the rules behind its supernatural elements (and the way it presents them through sound in a particularly horrifying scene), and the difference between love and entitlement. When the film starts holding less and less back, we’re not captivated because of the “wish gone wrong” but because this story is ultimately about chivalry and cowardice, and how self-image breaks into a gruesome possessiveness that is too weak to face actual responsibility. Bear may have a sympathetic start, but his willingness to fall into a control while avoiding responsibility for the sickly harm he’s imposed makes us unsettled to be spending such long shots with him so close to us in the frame. Obsession is what begins when love’s uncertainty is removed, and when fantasy becomes a corrupt currency of power. The film’s most horror-like moments are so visionary that they’ll stick with you long after the credits roll. It’s one you’ll need to shake off days later and will likely come to define the 2020s in horror.

Backrooms

Psychologist Mary Kline must enter a mysterious dimension beyond our own in search of Clark, a furniture store owner and troubled patient of hers.

Backrooms never satisfies with easy answers and clear meaning, and that’s what resonates the most about it. It evolves throughout its runtime, from a perspective, scope, and thematic lens. Expanding on its titular concept with mystery and curiosity as it continues, the movie is always fully aware of its roots within its characters and human nature. It blends claustrophobic and sweeping spaces very well along with found footage moments that are used wisely. The threats aren’t often in frame, but when they are, one in particular reveals itself as one of the most terrifying horror villains in recent memory.

Renate Reinsve is particularly excellent, and the film thrives most when we’re experiencing its events from her character’s eyes. The production design is incredibly impressive and the weird, almost random nature of the titular dimension keeps building more and more intrigue. Setting it during the 90s was also a clever way to address its satire on capitalism and consumerism, and their isolating nature that eats away at the individual’s ambition with the facade of excess and glamour. Beyond that, there’s some dark backstories to our main characters that informs the unusual choices they make, and some images will haunt you long after the credits roll. While the first half is engaging, the second half becomes seriously captivating and subverts all expectations. It never lets you decrypt anything too easily, avoiding straightforward messages and classic three-act structure, but that’s exactly what the unknown of the backrooms are all about, too.

The Sheep Detectives

George Hardy is a shepherd who reads murder mystery novels to his sheep every night. When George is found dead, his sheep must use the skills they’ve gathered from sleuth fiction and solve a mystery of their own.

Emulating a similar charm for all ages to Paddington and Wonka, this delightful family film never stops entertaining, while unironically amassing one of the year’s most stacked casts. The film takes inspiration in a self-aware manner from Whodunnits, from Agatha Christie literature to Rian Johnson’s Knives Out mysteries, and doesn’t shy away from ideas like death and grief. Rather it tackles these themes head-on while maintaining a kid-friendly PG rating but having much to say for adults.

Everyone seems like they’re having a blast here, from Hugh Jackman as George to Emma Thompson is a lawyer who’s quite the character. Nicholas Braun in particular is hilarious as a cop whose skills leave a bit to be desired, and Hong Chau and Molly Gordon are great, too. A number of A-listers also join the voice cast side and entertain as the sheep who enlist themselves in finding justice for their slain shepherd.

The pace and twists continue to work, and the humor is often laugh-out-loud and works great for older audiences too. At its heart is very strong themes about grief, remembrance, and togetherness that can stick with anybody — and best of all, you’ll fall completely in love with the sheep, even if the CGI behind them sticks out in a few weird shots.

Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu

In the age of the New Republic hunting down the remnants of the fallen Empire after the events of Return of the Jedi, Mandalorian Din Djarin and his adopted son Grogu embark on an exciting new Star Wars adventure.

The Mandalorian’s big-screen debut isn’t his most dramatic or revealing, but honestly, it’s refreshing that the stakes are changed up from “fate of the galaxy” level to focused more on crime syndicates and bounty hunters. The Neo-Imperial and Mandalore stories from the series aren’t revisited or touched on much, but that’s honestly a breath of fresh air to see Mando go in a new direction this time. The visuals are splendid, as always with Star Wars, and the action is expertly choreographed. Grogu is absolutely adorable and everything he does is a standout here, and Ludwig Goransson’s excellent score elevates the whole movie.

Jeremy Allen White also stands out in a motion capture role, playing Rotta the Hutt, who’s far gentler than any of the other Hutts we’ve met in Star Wars lore. Sigourney Weaver is no stranger to space action, and is yet again a delightful badass who gives much heart and authority to her character of Ward.

The Mandalorian and Grogu might not end up changing the game for the franchise, but it’s got just enough fun visuals and action, as well as the touching father-son dynamic at its center, to be worth a watch for action/sci-fi/fantasy fans and those who are invested in the galaxy far, far away.

Mother Mary

A profound drama that may leave many different interpretations, Mother Mary is one of David Lowery’s most interesting movies with one of Anne Hathaway’s best-ever performance as she wonderfully shares the screen with a ferocious Michaela Coel. Though it’s best to go into this one blind, the intimate lens with which the film focuses on celebrity through a conversation between a pop star and her stylist/former lover is fascinating. It’s so easy for depression to be portrayed as a caricature, especially with films dealing with women’s mental health, but this film is not only respectful but rich in its layered yet not defining depiction of depression. The supporting cast is also resonant, particularly FKA Twigs in a standout role.

The haunting production design is the glue between real and dream and puts the audience in a trance throughout the runtime. The film explores so much that’s only hinted at, but there’s much to be said about the relationship between humanity and the illogical, and the wounds that shape our being forever. Much of the film’s thematic material feels wholly original and left for the audience to unpack long after it ends. It may frustrate some with its lack of easy answers, but this deeply uncomfortable and transfixing journey is one that may marks a career milestone performance for Hathaway and many different aspects that could be unpacked by audiences for years.

The Devil Wears Prada 2

Twenty years after the first film, Miranda Priestly reunites with Andy Sachs to revamp and reignite the future of Runway magazine. The first Devil Wears Prada is a modern comedy classic, though far from perfect, its got a distinct originality, conflict, and remarkable performance from the great Meryl Streep. Save for the great performances from an all-star cast, this sequel doesn’t have any of that fuel, or much of a reason to exist. Andy’s decision to return to Runway feels rather under-explained after her decision to leave Miranda’s toxic orbit in the last film, and the pace lacks some urgency or objective. Not many characters are given the chance to grow or feel multi-layered besides Stanley Tucci’s endearing Nigel; Andy is ambitious and devoted, Miranda is narcissistic and intolerant, and Emily is stuck-up and vindictive. Anne Hathaway is a delight and Streep is always great, but Miranda doesn’t possess the same strength as a character and icon as she did in the script the first time around.

The Devil Wears Prada seemed to have a lot to say about the temptation of glamour and the seduction of power and the ability to make decisions that have an impact, but the second film doesn’t approach it with the same critical lens, rather showing us excess for the sake of the image, in a way that doesn’t feel quite modern or relevant anymore. Viewers may simply enjoy those images on the big screen if they’re focused more on fashion and less on story beats, and it may be enough to see how great Streep, Hathaway, and Tucci are in these roles, but there wasn’t much of a real narrative reason to revisit this so many years down the line in today’s world, save for the sheer scale and the main cast’s availability.