11.13.25
by

Now You See Me: Now You Don’t

The Horsemen band together once again after years apart to train a new generation of magic criminals and pull off a seemingly impossible heist.

Devoid of the fugitive thrills, star charisma, and moral ambiguity that made the first film remotely a success, this movie turns its protagonists into superheroes with plot conveniences at their disposal, and none of the big names in the cast really get to shine their personalities, with every character feeling empty, with the exceptions of those played by Dominic Sessa, Ariana Greenblatt, and Morgan Freeman. Rosamund Pike is given truly awful material to work with and a very odd South African accent.

The movie struggles to answer the question of, why this sequel so many years later? Why this heist? Why this villain? The stakes feel rather low for a third film, and when the script finally comes around to attempting satisfying responses to these questions, you’re left wishing you hadn’t heard them. The movie isn’t even quite able to tell us why we should be so impressed by these magicians, and if what they’re doing really has any meaning at all besides prestige. Things happen because the story begs them to, but a turn in the final act also comes in and makes any development the whole thing feel null and void, anyway. The action ranges from fine to filled with glaring gaps in logic, and even when the movie begs you to turn off your brain and enjoy some of the fights and humor, there’s a real lack of excitement and very irritating script directions in the way of that.

Like the Horsemen’s magic tricks, Now You See Me: Now You Don’t feels forcefully manufactured for a wide audience. If you enjoyed both the previous films, this one is a lot more of the same, but it seriously fails to justify its existence besides some big visuals and sets, even with all the star power and energy at the table.

11.10.25
by

Predator: Badlands

A young outcast Predator named Dek finds himself stranded on an unfamiliar planet, and must band together with android Thia in order to face some new threats and survive.

Predator: Badlands proves that for some franchises, the standalone spinoff method can certainly hold better than trying to directly recapture the essence of the original. Badlands starts off a bit rocky, with the stunts team’s work impressing but the characterization of the Yautja feeling too distant to connect with Dek as a protagonist. Once Elle Fanning’s character is introduced to the mix in the first act, we’re finally able to feel for what’s going on, thanks to her bond with Dek, and Fanning’s wonderful performance as not one but two androids.

The action ranges from forgettable earlier on in the runtime to exciting later. Thankfully, the story and fights get better and better as the film goes along and not the other way around, and manages to stay interesting with relatively low stakes. Maybe the Predator himself makes for a cooler villain than hero, but this story works well because of Fanning and the intricate stunt performances and visual look.

11.06.25
by

Sentimental Value

Joachim Trier once again is drawn by the quirks, faults, and excellences that drive people towards and away from each other. Sentimental Value is very much about the need to express oneself and tell one’s story, often through art, or discover oneself through it. 

Renate Reinsve shines in a role both subtle yet demanding though never reminds you it’s such. Meanwhile, Stellan Skarsgard finds himself in one of the most powerful roles of his career. He gives a richness to his role, the distant father who in most films would be painted as a humiliation, but rather Trier and co-writer Eskil Vogt make Skarsgard’s character’s journey just as valid as that of his daughters, never trying to make the audience judge whether any of these characters are “better” or “worse” than one another.

Elle Fanning’s character enters this world with fascination, and her character is filled with empathy while avoiding predictable tropes the role could’ve easily fallen into. The film often lets us inhabit a space with these characters in long scenes of reflective — and introspective — dialogue, though sometimes the story takes time to pick up between acts. Once the final act comes, though, it pieces together everything the film had to say about individuals’ need to be spoken and heard through emotional intimacy — with art often being the only way — in a big and resonant manner.

11.04.25
by

Nuremberg

This accessible and matter-of-fact historical drama is engaging and makes good use of its runtime and central cast. Rami Malek inhabits the role of Douglas Kelley quite well, a psychiatrist brought to assess the mental state of Nazi prisoners convicted of war crimes leading up to the Nuremberg trial. Russell Crowe gives one of his strongest performances in recent years as Hermann Goring, one of the most evil and infamous figures of the Nazi party responsible for carrying out many of the Reich’s atrocities, including Hitler’s plan to conquer Europe and murder millions of innocent Jews and others the party deemed inferior. Crowe’s performance emulates a manipulative coldness that’s hard to read, as the film examines how such ego would respond to losing such immense power, and Malek’s character attempts to find the man’s weaknesses. Michael Shannon gives an excellent performance as Justice Robert H. Jackson, who leads the charge in the trial and remains the film’s most passionate and likable character, though Richard E. Grant does effortlessly steal the screen later on, too. Leo Woodall is solid, but his and Colin Hanks’ characters are slightly underwritten.

The film’s main distracting element is the color-grading that’s oddly dull and dry, even for a film of such hefty subject material. The movie does do a great job, however, of showing the importance of the Nuremberg trials in a broader historical context, and ensuring that such evil would never be enabled again. It also powerfully connects the rise of Nazi ideology to history that followed, including McCarthyism and other far-right movements in America. It’s an interesting watch, if not one of the most resonant recent films about WWII or the Holocaust and their aftermath, led by an all-star cast.

11.01.25
by

Bugonia

Yorgos Lanthimos creates worlds of oddity, discomfort, and unease in most of his film, but Bugonia has the most to say about our world now. Jesse Plemons and Aidan Delbis play two extremists who kidnap the CEO of a pharmaceutical company (Emma Stone), believing her to be an alien in disguise sent to enslave humanity. Plemons and Stone are daring, unsettling, and riveting in the film, continuing to surprise and take their characters further, even with both being alums of Yorgos’ filmography and tone. Plemons’ turn is scary based on the conviction of his belief that comes from lifelong pain, and Stone is phenomenal as a character who’s also done some awful things, but clearly has the moral high ground while challenging the other characters. Delbis is convincing as a character who beneath the darkness, possesses a helplessness and strange empathy.

Lanthimos’ best traits as a filmmaker are that he finds the funny and big in every circumstance, making the story feel large-scale with the editing and storytelling. He also recognizes how equally unsettling and hilarious the concept can be, and that the two almost always go hand in hand in the case of Bugonia. The cinematography by Robbie Ryan, is unique and often stunning, and the thrills come from itching to find out the insanity that’ll unfold in every moment of the tense situation. It doesn’t let any of its characters off the hook but also allows the audience to understand some of their points, while debating on which characters are less sympathetic. It’s a film about shared delusions, stemming from our modern world of online radicalization, ideology-based violence, and corporate corruption on a vast scale. The symbolism and hidden layers reveal so much more about the characters’ world and the film’s messages, and there is much horrific yet calculated madness and macabre to expect from the director, while leaving an incredibly satisfying amount of ambiguity. It balances genres, tones, and themes effortlessly, leaving food for thought in all its aspects while allowing its stars to beautifully share the spotlight in one of the most unsettling and brilliant works of film this year.

10.29.25
by

If I Had Legs I’d Kick You

If I Had Legs I’d Kick You digs deep into the darkest corners of the human souls, of the ugliest thoughts that plague our minds, and the crippling anxiety and depression that traps us in the most banal of existences. Rose Byrne gives one of the most demanding, devastating, and furious performances of the last decade, as a woman suffocated by the horror and weakness of her being, confined by the truths of her situation and lacking the strength to find meaning or love in any of it. The remarkable filmmaking and camerawork allows us to pinpoint exactly how Linda interacts with her surroundings, without having to imagine any of what she’s feeling. The dread that anything is about to go wrong, that it’s all your fault, and that this excruciating guilt is forever. The feelings are so tangible to the audience, yet their roots of why she feels responsible for the life she hates are intangible and ambiguous for much of the film. 

Byrne’s character channels universal struggles, including with motherhood, while taking them to the most extreme depths and circumstances. However, we’re never brought to think that she’s a bad person, simply someone who’s isolated and unable to cry for help or carry herself along with those around her. As Linda is inconvenienced with a gaping hole in the roof of her house, the hole metaphorically grows and becomes one with her. 

The final few minutes are haunting and left me dumbfounded. The nightmarish imagery and dark humor play off each other to create a final product that’s arguably more stressful than any horror movie could be. This movie left me dumbfounded and at a loss for words, one of the most anxiety-inducing, uncomfortable, and emotionally raw films I’ve seen in a while. It’s a one-of-a-kind film, with an astounding and unforgettable lead performance, that shook me to my core.

10.26.25
by

A House of Dynamite

Tension escalates real fast in Washington, D.C., when US officials detect a ballistic missile fired from an unknown source towards American soil, as impending dread hangs over the country’s highest-ranking rooms.

Kathryn Bigelow’s urgent ensemble piece boasts incredible tension while fully gripping onto its audience with its singular structure and building of suspense. The director, who also helmed the remarkable Hurt Locker and Zero Dark Thirty, gives A House of Dynamite the same sophistication and attention to detail. Rebecca Ferguson gives the audience their entrance into this incredibly bleak time window. In a movie that could’ve come off as cold and procedural, Ferguson’s humanity and gravitas make us feel like we’re in good hands, as well as a handful of terrific actors like Idris Elba, Anthony Ramos, and Tracy Letts. The proficiency and cooperation the characters demonstrate makes the person behind each role interesting.

The nuances behind this (hopefully forever a) hypothetical situation are compelling, and the film’s secret weapon comes from the unity between the stylistic parts: Bigelow’s direction, Barry Ackroyd’s handheld camerawork, Volker Bertelmann’s potent score, and the meticulous editing. The film maintains both intimacy and sweeping scale simultaneously, focusing on tight spaces with happenings of global implications. Although the ending avoids making a more terrifying stance with its ambiguity, it’s still an expertly crafted and cinematic two hours that I didn’t want to end.

10.25.25
by

Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere

Music biopics have found themselves a tried and true formula, and though Springsteen deviates from it, it also falls into a few of the same familiarities. Instead of focusing on the Boss’s entire life and on the creation of each and every one of his hits, it’s a quieter film about the recording of his more stripped-down, intimate album Nebraska, that lets us get up close with the man behind the legend. Jeremy Allen White is excellent as one of America’s most iconic and beloved rock stars, capturing the singer’s desire for versatility and personality in his art while struggling with depression. Jeremy Strong, however, ends up stealing the screen in almost all of his scenes. Refreshingly for the genre and the actor, music producer Jon Landau isn’t portrayed as a greedy, conniving villain, but as Bruce’s most reliable and caring friend who’s willing to stand up for his art and vision, even against his own corporate interests. Strong wonderfully captures the delicacy behind the businessman and the relationship between the two is the film’s strongest part. It’s also fascinating to see the old-fashioned ways of recording the songs, some of which have gone down in history, including “Born in the U.S.A.”.

The film does have its weak points, including a romantic subplot that touches on too many cliches, and the traumatic childhood flashbacks, which are rather tiring, though they boast a great performance from Stephen Graham as Bruce’s father. That said, it’s still a refreshingly smaller and far more personal biopic than most, focusing more on emotional journey than big musical numbers, and works thanks to White’s great turn as an American legend.

10.19.25
by

Good Fortune

An angel (Keanu Reeves) intervenes in the life of a man (Aziz Ansari) who’s about to give up on life, but things soon get uncontrollably out of hand very quickly.

Aziz Ansari’s fantasy comedy, which sees him directing, writing, producing, and starring, is clever, laugh-out-loud funny, relatable, and inspired. The concept plays a cross between Trading Places and It’s a Wonderful Life, while never feeling generic or derivative of those films, even if the idea’s similarities aren’t being hid. Ansari gives a flawed yet understandable frustration and hopelessness with his circumstance, and a charismatic humorous side. Seth Rogen gives an incredibly funny and physical performance as his character goes on quite an unexpected journey. Keke Palmer shines as Ansari’s love interest Elena, who’s passionate and humble, with Palmer providing lots of genuine heart to the film. The casting of Gabriel was perfect and Reeves was perhaps the only actor who could convey this emotional sweetness come off as effortless yet genuine and real.

The film’s best when looking at humanity’s relationship with materialism, and contrasting wealth with the the lower class trying to achieve the seemingly impossible task of making ends meet, including the unreasonable cost of living, the terrifying market of finding a job (and usually one isn’t enough), and the corporate greed that makes harsh conditions for minimum wage workers. The film feels like it’s missing a piece of the puzzle when it comes to its main character’s arc, but it’s got a real heart to it that’s boosted by it’s lovable actors and the humor’s attempt to keep one-upping what came before. Somehow, it still feels restrained enough to be a screwball comedy that’s not completely silly, and still very genuine while fantastical and uplifting.

10.17.25
by

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.