The Bride!

A fascinating concept that immediately becomes nonsense in execution, it’s almost impossible to believe that Maggie Gyllenhaal wrote The Bride!, as its the opposite of the subtlety and patience of The Lost Daughter. It attempts to be a more feminist take on the Bride of Frankenstein, while acknowledging other cinematic renditions of the story, including James Whale’s Frankenstein and even Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein, but it throws too much at the wall and none of it sticks at all. Not a single scene, story thread, character arc, or creative swing feels earned or even sensical in the final product. Even Oscar winners Jessie Buckley and Christian Bale, who are throwing themselves into these silly and unhinged performances, don’t get close to saving any of it.

The film aims for many themes that it fails to explore with any sort of substance, like female liberation or having one’s identity forced upon you. The detective characters played by Peter Sarsgaard and Penelope Cruz feel completely unnatural, and the dialogue is the film’s most glaring weakness; unsubtle, and completely groan-worthy at times. In another film, this level of cinematography (done by Oscar-nominated Lawrence Sher who was acclaimed for his neo-noir approach to Joker), makeup, and production design would have stunned, but here it just feels even more like a shame that the material at the center of the story for such a nice-looking production is so pointless and frustrating. This feels like it was only made because of a lot of good will for a known filmmaker, and at some point, you stop even trying to figure out who this movie was made for and what the point of it all is.

Ready or Not 2: Here I Come

Moments after surviving an attempted Satanic ritualistic sacrificial game of Hide and Seek by her in-laws, Grace is pulled into a greater, global stakes world of survival by a game she hadn’t realized she’d triggered, only this time, her sister is in danger too.

Though not as funny, shockingly original, and nail-biting as the first, this is a worthy sequel that boasts the same level of insane violence thanks to Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett’s direction. Samara Weaving gave one of the most iconic horror “final girl” performances in the original film and continues here to solidify herself as one of the generation’s most outstanding scream queens. Her commitment to the role and the sheer terror Grace is unrivaled, though she’s been toughened by her prior experience with this madness.

What this film leaves to be desired that the first film nailed is the hilarious ensemble cast of antagonists, while here, only Shawn Hatosy and Sarah Michelle Gellar really stand out as the central villains, twin siblings whose dynamic twists and turns as the runtime progresses. Hatosy’s performance in particular is impressive and interesting to watch in every scene he’s in, while Kathryn Newton is great as Grace’s sister Faith, though the backstory between them is a bit haphazard and thrown in just for the sake of having some sort of conflict between them that needs to be resolved. Still, it’s thanks to the energy that the directors and writers provide to offers more than enough entertainment and satisfying irreverence and macabre, with an expansion and execution that makes this one of the more inherently earned sequels of the last few years.

Scream 7

In the words of Christopher Nolan’s great superhero epic The Dark Knight, all great franchises can either go out a hero, or live long enough to see themselves become the villain. Too many great franchises that haven’t concluded on their own terms find themselves in the latter trap, running out of steam because they went on too long for the simple reason of trying to make more money. A project that may have been doomed from the start after the departure of franchise leads Melissa Barrera and Jenna Ortega, Scream 7 feels almost like an apology for the freshness of Scream VI, trading everything that made that film exciting for more of the same that we’ve seen done several times, over and over again.

We’ve seen the series return to Sidney Prescott years later in Scream 4 and the fifth Scream, which also finally allowed the big three of Neve Campbell, Courtney Cox, and David Aqruette to give up center stage to new leads. At this point, not only does Sidney’s return feel stale, but Campbell and Cox’s leading performances feel rather boring and fail to carry the film. Meanwhile, Jasmin Savoy Brown and Mason Gooding’s characters are by far the most fun and not given much to do. The film does up the gore from past installments, but the small town set pieces aren’t that engaging and the ensemble cast doesn’t hook you in much either, providing for a far less exciting guessing game about who might be behind the Ghostface mask than before, and it’s never a good sign when I was able to guess the killer less than halfway into the runtime.

Nostalgia in Scream (2022) and Scream VI was cleverly used as a tool to flip expectations and actually satirize and deconstruct the idea of nostalgia itself. Now, Scream 7 feels too afraid to critique or even surprise its audiences any longer. The commentary on other horror film and franchise tropes that has become a staple of the Scream films feels groan-worthy and half-baked here, especially because the movie is just reusing the same old tropes like a checklist, resulting in an installment that feels like a whole lot of nothing and especially underwhelming compared to the great fifth and sixth films. It’s time Paramount learned that if you don’t have anything new to say, it’s best not to say anything at all.

Send Help

Rachel McAdams and Dylan O’Brien are employee and conceited millionaire boss who are forced to survive together after a plane crash leaves them stranded on an island. Sam Raimi embraces his horror/thriller roots with humor more clever than his past entries, and an exciting structure that pulls out another surprise every time you think the concept is about to wear out.

McAdams is always such a delight in any role she graces, but this may be one of her best performances — a woman whose lack of validation from others in her life turns into the ability to make horrific decisions. O’Brien is delightfully awful yet there’s a pity to the way he is unable to carry himself like a mature, generous human being. The CGI has a few distractingly bad moments, but that also contributes to the film’s silliness that it finds within the dark situations it finds, and then escalates. It’s a survival thriller that’s not a full on comedy, or a full on horror film, but has a bit of it all. The more the runtime goes by, the more intrigued you are to see what bloody chaos will play out between the two, with a true sense of unpredictability to it.

28 Years Later: The Bone Temple


28 Days Later is not only a fascinating zombie film, but has spawned a unique and exciting franchise since. Releasing two films within the span of seven months isn’t something most film series can truly earn, but 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple continues to embrace the violent setting and genre while flipping the themes and styles of its predecessor on their axes. Nia DaCosta’s direction is far more patient and just as dark, but there also seem to finally be some cracks of optimism in the world that’s gone to hell, with people fighting against a terrifying virus, and some humans even killing one another. That hope comes in the form of Dr. Ian Kelson. Ralph Fiennes’ intelligence, compassion, and gravitas serve as a light in the film and to the circumstances that have turned the world into a landscape of fear and carnage. Equally captivating on the other end of things is Jack O’Connell as a vicious cult leader. O’Connell brings to life a character whose ruthlessness takes up so much space on the screen, led by his conviction that his duty is to spread Satan’s work and better the world by preying on the weak and selecting only the strongest to serve him as his acolytes.

Alfie Williams is a strong breakout star as the lead of this new trilogy within the franchise. Spike is a kid who’s lost so much but always determined to stay noble and do good to himself and others, even as he’s forced into a murderous cult. DaCosta brilliantly utilizes some soundtrack choices, and creates some stunning set pieces. Thematically, these films have thrived on the idea that as humanity is being threatened by the apocalypse, it’s actually doomed to tear itself apart, but here, the script proposes that maybe there’s something after those ideas of cruelty and nihilism, which is that goodness and integrity may still prevail. 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple doesn’t answer all these questions, but it’s certainly one of the most unnerving and inventive horror films of the decade and the best one in the franchise yet.

Frankenstein (2025)

This retelling of one of the most famous novels in history feels like Guillermo del Toro’s ultimate passion project, with a sweeping scale, and breathtaking cinematography. The production design is perhaps some of the greatest of all time here, with the attention to detail and color schemes serving as the source of much of the film’s beauty. Oscar Isaac is great as the titular scientist whose ambition becomes his own undoing, while Jacob Elordi is incredible, disappearing into the Creature but delivering much soul beneath the towering makeup work. The supporting cast stand out too, including Mia Goth, Christoph Waltz, and Charles Dance, and it feels like everyone is honored to have been given the chance to show up and work with the master of gothic fantasy.

Though its ambition is spellbinding, Frankenstein‘s first half suffers due to its pacing — some of the story feels drawn out to the point where it feels like del Toro showed us the extended version of his masterpiece before trimming some tedious details, with some events happening in the runtime much later than it feels they should have. But when a narrative turn comes in at the film’s midpoint, the themes all click into place and become very powerful — the script also forgoes big action where you’d expect it and allows these bigger themes to speak for themselves. Frankenstein feels like the culmination of Guillermo del Toro’s creative endeavors from a stylistic standpoint, though far from its best film; it could’ve been at least 10-15 minutes shorter and been an even better film, but its weight will also grow on you after the credits roll due to its beautifully expert storytelling.

Weapons

When seventeen children from the same class all disappear one night, a community is sent reeling and forced to deal with the terrifying consequences.

Weapons is a film that bids farewell to all the tropes we’re used to in even the best of modern horror movies, throwing us first into how a community is affected by such cruel and unexplainable loss. Julia Garner is at the film’s heart as a gentle teacher who suddenly loses all but one of her students — and is quickly blamed by her peers for it. Garner is immediately bondable with the audience due to her desire for answers and peace amidst her unfair situation. But on the other side of the public tensions is what comes off as rage but reveals itself to be fear and desperation in Josh Brolin’s performance as a father hellbent on finding his missing son. His hardness reveals itself as pain and vulnerability and stands out among many others of the actor’s roles.

Though writer-director Zach Cregger sets out to make Weapons feel far more patient than other horror films, he also goes for broke structurally, stylistically, and graphically. The editing, score, and cinematography are chilling, with moments that may end up in modern horror classic territory. Cregger retains some of his previous film Barbarian‘s DNA, such as jumps in time and perspective — some less interesting than others yet necessary for the film’s slow revelation of its mysteries. Within the film’s title lies many of the answers, including the weapon of the human soul itself: the harm that we can inflict or can be inflicted on us. But it’s because the film does hold back so much, and for so much of its runtime, that everything clicks so beautifully. We see and learn just as much as we need to in order to be asking the right questions, and hopelessly guessing what might really be going on here. Once you reach the end of Weapons, you may find yourself equal parts terrified and delighted, but its unraveling will make your heart sink and your legs shake. Weapons is bold and extraordinary even in today’s ever challenging horror landscape. Cregger’s cynical and at times darkly humorous lens fits perfectly into a modern folk tale of sorts that radiates the kind of singular originality felt in M. Night Shyamalan’s golden days of making thrillers. In this epic yet personal horror film, the scares aren’t nearly the whole point, but the whole point is seriously scary — just not in all the ways you’d expect.

28 Years Later

Out of all the zombie epidemics we’ve seen in cinema history, 28 Days Later and the franchise it’s spawned has depicted perhaps the bleakest, most horrifying, and cynical approach to the creatures. 28 Years Later carries that sheer terror and gore over in this generally rewarding continuation, as well as some of its predecessor’s more outdated stylistic choices that director Danny Boyle seems to cherish. Despite a few slightly self-aware soundtrack or action moments, the film portrays a hopeless future in which a nightmarish virus has caused a zombie apocalypse, and human nature is hardly a bright alternative. Now that it’s been decades since the world went to hell, we see the impact this has had on different sects of survivors, and small peeks at how the rest of the world may be interacting with this situation on the outside.

Boyle has a glaring pull to editing scenes like a music video, which frustrates when overdone, especially due to the prominent shaky cam, but when he trades this for calmer, more wide shot-driven scenes, the film looks beautiful, particularly the scenes set at night. The world isn’t given a wasteland-like look we’ve seen in films like Zombieland or I Am Legend — rather focusing on large fields and tidal islands filled with green and surrounded by blue sea.

Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Jodie Comer are great here, while Ralph Fiennes is a scene-stealer in a supporting role that’s incredibly powerful. The film does leave much to be resolved in a forthcoming sequel, which results in an underwhelming ending, but one that still very much leaves you excited for more after a stunning and unexpected final act.

Sinners

Twin brothers Smoke and Stack return to their hometown to open a blues club for a fresh start, only to discover that an even greater evil is waiting to welcome them back.

Ryan Coogler, one of the most impactful filmmakers to come out of the last decade, creates his most original, commanding, and dazzling film, a kind many have been waiting to see for a long time. Coogler gets free reign to blend genres with unique storytelling on a larger scale than we’ve seen before. The characters leap off the page and screen with their wonderful portrayals from Michael B. Jordan, Hailee Steinfeld, Wunmi Mosaku, and Delroy Lindo, as well as a more menacing turn from Jack O’Connell. As both Smoke and Stack, Jordan plays characters who aren’t free of moral question marks but still worth rooting for, and have excellent romances with Mosaku and Steinfeld, while Lindo has brilliant moments of reflection, strength, and humor.

The film portrays America in the 1930s as a place of difficulty and strive, with a system built to oppress black Americans, but in the main characters’ blues club, a dazzling, one-of-a-kind portrayal of black culture and music in a safe space of untouched, booming joy. The music is a language of its own in the film, not just another magnificent score by Ludwig Goransson, but the way music inspires and drives the characters across generations of their history. Music in the film is its own plane of sacred storytelling and unity, and it’s brought to life with roaring energy that the audience can enjoy yet by moved by. The cinematography by Autumn Durald Arkapaw, who also collaborated with Coogler on Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, also takes the film to another level, with distance between objects, characters, and backgrounds — or mere darkness — creating a weight in its shock. The film develops its characters in a world that’s breathing and moving around them in unexpected and exciting ways, even before the blues kicks in, and far before the horror action elevates the film to yet another level of mastery. The bloody violence is unpredictable and riveting to look at, and balances the line between horrific and irresistibly fun.

Though an ending scene stretches out and explains the themes too excessively, Sinners brings together genres and a remarkable cast full of life and heart that spreads to the audience. The visionary cinematography, music, and costume design compliment a story that’s filled with as much adoration for the immersive settings it creates as it is deeply hinting at themes of the system’s attempts to appropriate and erase black culture and history, and much more beneath the surface. Not only does it work for action, horror, or thriller fans, but it’s a beautiful piece of storytelling that only comes every few years. Not quite like any blockbuster we’ve seen, Sinners is a journey of pride, terror, and legend that needs to be experience on the big screen, solidifying Ryan Coogler as one of our great modern filmmakers who deserves all the more creative freedom and spotlight that’s coming his way.

Companion

Companion might fall apart if you think too much about plausibility, but that’s not the whole point. It starts out as a “getaway” thriller like any other, but soon things go, well, incredibly south. There isn’t much I can say beyond that because the story and its unfolding take so many unexpected directions that elevate the enjoyment of watching the film. Not to mention, it’s incredibly funny. Sophie Thatcher continues breaking into the thriller genre amazingly, giving her all to what the character needs. Jack Quaid is also fittingly cast as a seemingly “nice guy” with more insecurity under the surface. Rounding out the great supporting cast are Harvey Guillen and Lukas Cage, who nail the comedic timing and pitiful complexities of their characters.

The editing, comedic timing, music choices, and thrills elevate Companion above a few minor writing missteps towards the end. It’s entertaining while smart, with some outrageous dialogue and very well-filmed sequences and production value. It’s not the first modern film to try the satirical horror-thriller approach to issues of masculinity and toxic relationships, even in the last few months, but does it cleverly and with so much fun, including the humor and twisted violence, that it wins you over from start to finish.