Nickel Boys

Nickel Boys tells of the powerful friendship between two young black men navigating the harrowing trials of a notoriously abusive reform school together in Florida. From that description alone, this may not sound like such a radical work of cinema quite yet, until you learn the key piece that defines it all: the movie is filmed completely from the first-person point-of-view of the teen friends and protagonists Elwood and Turner. Through this effect, you feel like you’re living a lifetime with them, traveling back to the 1960s, particularly into some of the deepest, darkest holes dug by America’s foundations that ruthlessly and systemically discriminated against people of color. It’s an invisible feat to get your audience to immediately care about a character whose face you barely see, but through Elwood’s perspective, we’re pulled and immersed into a heart-stopping time capsule. This experience may feel jarring at first, and the editing does occasionally break the gimmick’s own rules, the approach enhances the film’s thematic weight. From the cast, Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor is in particular brilliant in a small but unforgettable performance as Elwood’s grandmother.

RaMell Ross brings us into the sensory experiences of the characters with convincing production value, showing us subtly a world that ignores and persecutes teenagers of color, with a system built to see black men as guilty before charged and unworthy of the same chances. It’s also a film about how trauma can root itself into the soul and reshape a person’s being and outlook. The final act in particular is unforgettable and will stick with you for a long, long time after the credits roll. Nickel Boys is important, daring, and affecting in a deeply haunting way, and is a must-watch essential film of the year.

Moana 2

Moana and her people have now rightfully reclaimed their place in history as wayfinders who sail the ocean in search of exploration. One day, Moana receives a call from her ancestors to embark with an unexpected crew across dangerous waters, and reteam with her old friend, demigod Maui, for their most challenging and important quest yet.

The first Moana remains an unforgettable and impactful film among Disney’s recent animated films. This sequel retains everything that made that first film look so gorgeous, and builds on the dynamic colors of the ocean and its mystical findings. The transformative magic of watching the first film, though, is missing in this sequel that can’t quite justify its existence. Moana doesn’t feel like a film that has sequel potential built into it, as opposed to even other Disney sequels like Frozen II and Inside Out 2. Watching the sequel unfortunately didn’t convince me otherwise. Though its still charming and has some fun to be experienced, it’s basically retreading the same beats from the first film.

Auli’i Cravalho proves again why she’s earned the spotlight in her wonderful voice performance as the titular character, but Moana lacks any actual internal conflict this time around — there’s even an opening song all about how she’s finally become who she’s supposed to me, and the movie never ends up convincing us that she does need to change and grow, just to remember who she’s already become. Speaking of the songs, there are only two that manage to stand out at all, “Beyond” and “Can I Get a Chee Hoo?”, but even those are stuck in the shadow of the overly similar — and far more original — “How Far I’ll Go” and “You’re Welcome” from the first film. There are a few laughs and solid new characters, including Moana’s trio of new voyagers and companions, and an unexpected antagonist. However, the key piece that’s missing from Moana 2 is any sort of feeling that something is at stake here — what happens to Moana’s people, the ocean, or even her own internal journey if they fail this mission? What does Moana have to learn here, now that she’s embraced who she needs to be and discovered her destiny? The answers to these questions are unfortunately insufficient and affect the excitement levels older audiences may feel watching it.

Moana 2 is colorful and has its share of sweet moments (it certainly has way more soul than Strange World and Wish), but most of what works about it is drawn from the first film, including its beautiful depiction of the ocean, tributes to Polynesian culture, and lovely characters. Rehashing the incredible themes, numbers, and world-building doesn’t work, though, without the same spark of originality and wonder that made us never forget Moana. Whether you’re going in expecting a serviceable adventure aimed towards younger audiences or just unsure why this movie needed a sequel, Moana 2 is unlikely to change your mind.

Wicked

Wicked tells the story of Oz in a new light, as we meet Elphaba and Glinda in their early years of sorcery, who eventually become the Wicked Witch and the Good Witch, respectively.

Few stage-to-musical adaptations in recent memory capture the excitement of being there with the actors on a production filled with song and dance like this one. Despite its title, Wicked is one big burst of joy, led by the spectacular Cynthia Erivo, who makes the material, and the mere art of musical theater itself, feel like they were made for her. Erivo’s enchanting voice is moving and never quite lets go of the audience, rather you’ll be begging for more of her songs. Ariana Grande plays into type well as Galdina, who starts of as quite the narcissist, but the characterizations of both her and Elphaba soon become more complicated in a way that feels genuine and touching. Michelle Yeoh is also wonderful, and Jonathan Bailey and Jeff Goldblum are delightful. But it’s not one element that makes the movie works: it’s the beautiful costumes and sets, put together with the music and story, brought to life by these talents. The songs might have not worked without the incredible musical numbers and dance sequences, but Jon M. Chu steps up to the responsibility of bringing out the best of this bombastic fantasy tale. It also deeply humanizes an infamous movie villain in a way that feels natural and oddly grounded, with themes that may connect with audiences.

As this is only the first part of the two-film adaptation of the musical, the pace dives deep into unexpected subplots, and though this approach threatens to deem the split unnecessary, it ends up fleshing out its world in a rewarding way, making the runtime worth it, and leaving audiences with much anticipation for the next film. Wicked is a cinematic experience with exciting musical numbers, an incredible leading performance from Erivo, and mesmerizing execution that’s a must for both fans and non-fans. It’s hard to believe there’s so much more to come, though where you’re left here in Elphaba and Glinda’s journey is still an astounding and gratifying moment.

Gladiator II

Decades after the events of Gladiator, the Roman Empire has fallen into the tyrannical hands of Emperors Geta and Caracalla. Hanno, a young man taken to Rome as a slave, learns of his connection to the Empire and trains to be a Gladiator to fight against the corrupt emperors.

This long-awaited sequel doesn’t have the same visual beauty and flare as its predecessor, but is still a solid action film that embraces the best aspects of the first film’s story. It’s quite an uphill battle to create a hero as strong as Maximus Meridius now that he and Russell Crowe are out of the picture… unless, of course, you cast Paul Mescal. Mescal brings a tenderness to his performance that shows through even when he ought to show strength and ferocity in the arena. Pedro Pascal is also fantastic and completely chews up the scenery, as do Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger as the spoiled and maniacal emperors. Denzel Washington gives so much life to the film, seemingly just by being his soulful, fun self. He brings a lot of humanity as he and Mescal enter a mentor-student dynamic. The film doesn’t work as well without Washington’s presence, whose character takes unexpected turns throughout the film.

Gladiator II‘s script works when focusing on its protagonist’s journey, as well as his fight against tyrrany. The power dynamics and engaging action scenes carry the story forward, though visually, it feels held back from what could’ve been compared to the first film. Ridley Scott’s style here doesn’t feel as patient and refined as in his recent The Last Duel, and the CGI could’ve used a lot more improvement. However, the action choreography is as bloody and grand as fans of the original could hope for, and the ending is beautifully done as a realization of promises we didn’t even realize the first film had. It’s a noble continuation that honors the first film, and its cast led by Mescal and Washington, while never quite reaching that original movie’s breathtaking heights, but still better than some of Scott’s other recent outings, and worth a watch in theaters.

Heretic

When two Mormon missionaries arrive at Mr. Reed’s house attempting to convert them, they find themselves stuck there in a game of wits, fighting for their lives.

When two Mormon missionaries arrive at Mr. Reed’s house attempting to convert them, they find themselves stuck there, fighting for their lives.

Heretic doesn’t play out with the typical levels of jump scares and macabre we’re used to from horror films these days — rather it’s a battle of wits in which the characters contemplate belief, religion, and faith… oh, and an adult man is terrorizing two young women as they’re held captive in his house, which becomes a maze of puzzles related to his disdain for their faith. Hugh Grant is rather terrifying as Mr. Reed here, but he’s clearly having such a delightful time in the character’s skin. He’s as threatening as you can imagine a mysterious man in his 60s alone in a large house but also has plenty of outlandish and hilarious dialogue. Some viewers simply looking for an intellectual dark comedy could most definitely find satisfaction in watching Heretic. You also genuinely care about our two protagonists. Sophie Thatcher and Chloe East both bring cleverness to the film, a willingness to challenge their captor, and not break down and quit. Thatcher brings a rebellious sense of mystery to Sister Barnes, while Chloe East is heartfelt and capable as Sister Paxton.

Though Heretic takes some time for the uniqueness and thrills to set in, it stands out from other recent horror films thanks to its restraint on its scares, as well as its smart screenplay and chilling villain. The three performances are integral and lift up the film’s shocking fun, and may even make you think about some big ideas all while you’re enjoying this dark ride.

Emilia Pérez

Lawyer Rita receives an unusual offer from cartel leader Manitas — to help him evade the authorities and disappear by becoming Emilia Pérez, the woman she always was meant to be inside.

There hasn’t quite been a film remotely like Emilia Pérez, at least not in recent memory. One that so effortlessly blends seemingly alien genres and stories together, and utilizes its story, themes, and cast in such a surprising way. Zoe Saldaña shines in her most electric role yet, in an entrancing narcotics thriller meets rock opera musical where all the show-stopping elements create a magical experience you can’t look away from. Karla Sofia Gascon gives the character an identity defined by envy and a desire for redemption that’s also reflected in Saldaña’s character. Selena Gomez rounds out the poignant cast, getting to balance her great star power with a more rageful side to her acting we haven’t seen before. 

The journey of watching the film is one that gleefully navigates its way through tones and genres that wouldn’t have meshed so beautifully in other films. The musical numbers give the characters a voice that they otherwise lack or are searching for at the start. Every character, from the main ones to the background singers, is looking for validation, redemption, or recognition, and that binds the themes of the film together. There’s a scene about halfway in where I leaned forward in my seat, and never quite leaned back because I was so entranced by the mood the film created with its music and style. It’s director Jacques Audiard taking an exciting leap to create a really special and breathtaking experience; an outlandish, wonderfully performed film that dares to challenge but wow it’s viewers.

Venom: The Last Dance

Eddie and Venom are now fugitives on the run after the events of the previous film, and soon run into threats that threaten their existence together, and that of the entire world.

The third and final Venom movie offers much stronger laughs due to the bromance between Eddie and Venom. Though there’s still a fair share of cringe, there are some more genuinely funny moments, which for some is all you can ask for from these movies. But it’s hard to pinpoint whether it’s a genuinely better movie than its predecessors, or the bar was set so low by them that enjoying this one is a little easier. Not to mention, coming out after Morbius and Madame Web does this movie many favors considering it’s nowhere near as unwatchable, but how high of a compliment is that really for a movie? Where the film struggles again is making any sense of its story or having any engaging conflict beyond its titular dynamic. For the first bit of the movie, I was enjoying the chemistry between Tom Hardy and the CGI black blob much more than in the past films, but it soon descends into the same dull action scenes and tedious symbiote science exposition these films have subjected us to before.

The action scenes, including the uninspired CGI character designs, feel recycled and unattractive and do nothing different from the past films, as well as a few uninspired soundtrack choices. The rules to the conflicts are inconsistent and contrived, not to mention the disappointing use of great actress Juno Temple, who’s mostly just there to give exposition and stand on the sidelines. It’s also slightly distracting to have cast Chiwetel Ejiofor and Rhys Ifans, who have already had other Marvel roles, and Ejiofor’s character has no depth or originality to him. Every time we come back to the fighting and stakes, it’s hard to care, especially due to a few unrewarding story threads. It’s much more of the same, and leaves no impression despite its efforts to close out the trilogy. It may be the best of these films but that’s hardly a compliment considering how mindless and uninspired they already were.

Conclave

Cardinal Lawrence is tasked with overseeing Conclave, the selection of a new pope. Soon, secrets reveal themselves that could shake the very foundation of the Roman Catholic Church and bring Lawrence’s faith in his colleagues into question.

Edward Berger’s drama transcends conversations about faith and asks about men and values. The idea that selfishness and lies prevail in any space of remote competition or power is about so much more than the Catholic Church, but there are genuine stakes and universal truths to the story here. Ralph Fiennes gives one of his best performances ever as Cardinal Lawrence, a man trying to guide his belief in his Church and his peers while grappling with his understanding of faith and his place there. His character does what he feels is necessary but there’s a prevalent goodness and softness to Fiennes’ performance that beautifully accompanies his wisdom and elegance. Fiennes gives a breathtaking monologue about the coexistence of doubt and faith that took the air out of the theater — and that’s only half an hour in. I could’ve watched Fiennes embody this character for hours. Stanley Tucci is also exceptional as another one of the more moral members of the Church.

The cinematography is stunning, with colors that always stand out, and symbolism in items or actions. Even a light entering a room represents so much more for the characters and their path ahead. The action movie-like orchestral score by Volker Bertelmann is enticing and helps define the pace, which never wastes a minute of its 2-hour runtime that flies by. Though a twist at the end feels unnecessary, the idea that men flock to accusations, deception, and harm when they need to cover for themselves is delivered with heft. Fiennes’ performance gives the film the identity it needs to connect, and the writing dissects the flaws of humanity and absolution with fascination and conviction. Berger’s outstanding film invites you to continue guessing, indulging, and marveling.

The Apprentice

The Apprentice envisions the rise of billionaire tycoon and megalomaniac Donald Trump as a teacher-student relationship between Trump and his cutthroat attorney Roy Cohn, the acolyte of many evildoers in American history such as Nixon and McCarthy. It takes a serious approach with only a dash of irreverence in its script and style, showing the true scope of the values America represents and the ones it claims to but fails. Sebastian Stan isn’t doing a comedic impersonation of the man like many we’ve seen on Saturday Night Live, rather he transcends that and embodies Trump’s skin, becoming more and more like the Trump we’re used to seeing and hearing as the runtime progresses. Donald in the film is chronicled in his journey from a spoiled brat living off his dad’s achievements, to the narcissistic bully obsessed with greed and demonizing others. Much of what he seems to learn is attributed to his mentor, attorney Roy Cohn. Jeremy Strong is incredible in the role, giving a massive performance as a man who dominates every room yet evidently has a small sense of self. Cohn is played by Strong with immense physicality and a fragile fearfulness to his appearance. Even when the film’s pacing occasionally slows down or falters, the film is entirely worth it for those two principal performances.

Director Ali Abassi is fascinated with the American ambitions and values that surfaced in the 1980s, including Cohn’s “kill or be killed” mentality that many big American wealth giants lived by, or splitting the world into “winners and losers”. The use of various vintage cameras to immerse the audience in its 80s period can come off as indulgent and even distracting when too rushed, but the production value looks uncanny to how the Trumps at that time and their “achievements” really looked. Most importantly, it shows the normalization of bigotry and corruption in the American system, and how it’s rigged to enable the wealthy to get richer, and continuously toss the needs of the people aside. Trump comes of age in the film, but perhaps for the worst. His wishes are all granted, but at what cost? The spread of his ambitions to conquer the world and rub it in everyone else’s faces seem never-ending, but we see his infamous persona here originating from a desire to always be strong and win no matter the cost. The Apprentice isn’t just an origin story of modern evil, but a tale of the delusional men who roam at the top of society, capturing the essence of how a force of destruction and its hunger for power was activated and enabled by forces not so unlike him.

Anora

Anora, a young exotic dancer and call girl, meets the son of a wealthy Russian oligarch, and they soon spark up a fairytale romance. But that soon is threatened once his family gets word and sets out to break them up.

Sean Baker’s latest film is his biggest, utilizing more settings than his other films yet still addressing issues related to the working class. However, this one isn’t as grounded as his other films about America’s divisions — and flourishes because of it. The movie effortlessly balances fairy tale romance, screwball comedy, and tense drama, even becoming a hostage thriller of sorts at one point. Mikey Madison delivers a star-making performance as the titular character of Ani. She may be looking for love, control, validation, security, glamour, or respect — it varies every moment and that’s what makes Ani so unpredictable. She owns the screen with her every move and line. We meet her at her job as an escort, a role that doesn’t normally constitute a movie protagonist, but Mikey is immediately lovable despite her being from a world new to us. All the supporting characters are also expertly utilized, and the look and soundtrack make Anora feel like a lovely adventure… until things soon spiral out of control into a very different mood, yet equally fascinating and out there. 

There may be parts later on that are drawn out, but it never lets go of your attention for a moment as the stakes rise. The ending changed my entire outlook on what the film was really about all along. There’s so much depth to uncover and your expectations are completely flipped in a ruthless, heartbreaking, and unforgettable final act. But Baker’s love for his characters, even the smallest parts, breathes a human life through them and winds up making Anora a beautiful, resonant, and truly one-of-a-kind experience that juggles so much without ever compromising its nature or grasp on the audience.