September 5

During the 1972 Summer Olympics in Munich, Germany, an American sports broadcasting team must adapt to live coverage the Israeli athletes being held hostage by a terrorist group.

September 5 is an expertly crafted, tense docudrama set only in the ABC control room, and it’s this restraint, or visual distance from the actual violence, that makes the unfolding of events and revealing of information so much more impactful. Peter Sarsgaard gets to let out an unfiltered side to his character which is fun to watch, while John Magaro gives a wonderful performance in the lead, as the character who serves as the audience’s gateway into this situation and makes us ask what we would do when presented with such dilemmas. The film is so gripping not just because it focuses on a real-life historical tragedy, but because it’s rooted in the human soul of its characters. September 5 is about when humanity and journalism cross, and asks questions about journalistic ethics, and why people are so attracted to such spectacle and horror on the news. Each character’s decisions comes from a place of humanity and conflict, and we understand every perspective, even when they differ.

Most importantly, September 5 feels like it’s not only bringing you into a horrific event from 50 years ago, but heavily mirroring the present, especially viewing the film as a Jew and Israeli. It’s a riveting and urgent film about the role of broadcasting and storytelling in our lives, well making its audience reflect on the ripples of such violent and provocative images captured and shown to the world. It’s a tightly paced, gripping, and emotional film about the dangerous responsibility for the truth that’s a thoughtful and powerful experience, whether or not you’re already familiar with the tragic events of that day.

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.

Better Man

Better Man chronicles the rise, fall, and resurgence of popstar Robbie Williams, with a twist: Williams himself as depicted as a CGI monkey. This odd approach threatens to distract at times, and works better conceptually than in execution. However, this musical biopic rises among the crowd of forgettable tellings of famous musician’s lives through its vivacious musical sequences and booming soul. Williams, who narrates the film himself, doesn’t let himself off the hook, inviting us into genuine introspection of his ugliest parts: his insecurities, self-destructiveness, addiction, and depression. Michael Gracey’s direction puts everything in his last grand musical film The Greatest Showman to shame within minutes — the lively numbers, dynamic camerawork and choreography make the visual style bombastic while remaining intimate with Williams’ core as a man, not just his journey as a famous singer.

The effect the main character being a CGI chimpanzee has is occasionally jarring and even laughable at worst, but at best, creates an interesting visual experience compared to films with similar plots, and brings you into Williams’ imposter syndrome and self-perception. However, one can’t help but think the gimmick would’ve worked stronger if it had only lasted for one scene. Still, the film is such a breath of fresh air in that it tackles familiar points and themes from the genre on a far more up-close manner, such as feeling trapped by fame, or being numbed by addiction. Non-fans will want to learn much more about Robbie Williams’s story and learn more about his story. Fans will greatly enjoy Williams’s songs being elevated by such beautiful sequences and appreciate a bold and eccentric yet humble, emotional, and entertaining biopic.

A Real Pain

A Real Pain beautifully balances the heartbreaking and hysterical through the dynamic of Jesse Eisenberg and Kieran Culkin as cousins David and Benji, who travel from New York to Poland together on a tour in memory of their deceased grandmother, a Polish Holocaust survivor. It’s about so many things, whether big or small. From a Jewish perspective, the film powerfully touches on complicated feelings of nationality towards countries in which one’s family lived but suffered horrific atrocities, as well as generational trauma. As someone who has embarked on this tour myself, the film captures not only the visceral nature of walking into places where such evil was committed eight decades ago (which both I and the characters here came to feel, wasn’t even that long ago), but the deep emotional connection towards one’s ancestors, community, and people it invokes.

From a personal perspective, the film is also very much about empathy — the idea of feeling others’ pain, and sadness, to better understand and connect with oneself. Kieran Culkin in particular brings such harsh complexity to his character. Benji is fascinated with human connection and constantly in pursuit of embracing living life with all his senses, but doesn’t always know how to feel, or express himself to others. Even when he pushes others away and embarrasses himself, the audiences can’t help but hold him close to their heart and feel deeply for him in every moment, because of his desire to grieve for his grandmother, and true yet misguided desire for the best. Eisenberg, in one of his most substantial and beautiful performances, wonderfully conveys David’s pull to and from Benji — his responsibility yet resentment towards the way Benji feels, which comes from a distance and envy from him, yet a dear love for him. Their bond is as moving as it is poignant, and even irreverent, and best of all, it’s easy to connect with them both as an audience member, despite how wildly different they are. Eisenberg’s script is devoted to his love for his Jewish heritage and culture, and exploration of the human condition that may even make you reflect on how you live your life. He and Culkin together make for a wonderful pair in a film that’ll take you on an emotional journey filled with weight and resonance.

Nosferatu

Out of all the reimaginings of the tale as old as time that is Dracula, none have been quite as chilling and outright transfixing as Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu. Eggers captures beautiful simplicity yet utter darkness in the film’s breathtaking imagery, as well as deeply terrifying sequences of gothic horror. From the jaw-dropping opening scene, the film captures its audience in a sense of heart-stopping fear that never ends until long after the credits roll. Jarin Blaschke’s cinematography wonderfully uses imbalanced lighting, gloomy color schemes, and silhouettes to create something that looks timeless. Every shot evokes a feeling of an ancient evil’s presence that’s about to be awoken and get ahold of what we’re looking at, which is exactly what happens with Count Orlok. Bill Skarsgard is unrecognizable under stunning makeup and changes his voice to create a towering and skin-crawling vampire, who’s face we wisely don’t see in close-ups until much later on. Lily-Rose Depp is a scene-stealer whose performance is so astounding that if you stop to realize it’s acting, it becomes hard to comprehend the sheer levels of physical and emotional commitment required — Depp never makes you question it once. Though the film cleverly shifts main characters between her and Nicholas Hoult, she’s the film’s beating heart and muscle.

Eggers expands on all his trademark oddities as a filmmaker, making us feel helplessly entranced. It’s nail-biting, gory, and does not hold back on scares and twisted, graphic content. The director feels in complete command of the style, whether the score, production design, or material, that digs into ideas of masculinity, obsession, and self-deception, without needing to overexplain what it’s truly about. Though I was dreading what was about to happen between the main characters and the titular vampire, I could never look away; I was deeply unsettled yet never wanted the experience to end, knowing I was in such good hands. No matter whether you know the story beats or not, there’s genuine shock and brilliance in every scene’s execution, breathing new life into a story that felt like it was always meant to fall into Eggers’ hands. It’s masterful and haunting, like watching a gorgeous fever dream that keeps building and building until an unforgettable final act. You may be going for the cast, the monstrous scares, or even just the cinematography — individually, they’re remarkable, yet together, the parts create a spellbinding whole.

The Fire Inside

Rachel Morrison impresses in her touching and exciting directorial debut. The film focuses on Claressa Shields, the only American boxer to win a gold medal at the Olympics — let alone at age 16!

Morrison’s energetic style and the vibrant soundtrack give a Creed-like energy to The Fire Inside, a film that portrays the city of Flint as the ultimate underdog and gives the audience characters we can really interact with and understand, even if we don’t always agree with them, such as Claressa’s parents. Ryan Destiny shines in her first major role, giving Claressa Shields a titular fire and rageful drive to win that makes her fascinating and lovable.

What makes the film worth the price of admission is watching Brian Tyree Henry work his magic in an awards-worthy powerhouse of a performance. As Claressa’s coach Jason, Henry not only extends an enduring tough love that anchors the film, but makes the audience fall in love with the character and wish for him to be our coach and grounding force. Henry’s one-of-a-kind humanity and charm makes Jason lovable and riveting, and we as an audience deeply care for him and understand his decisions even when Claressa might not.

As for the film as a whole, there are many familiar beats to other sports and boxing films that it touches on, but it never loses its heart and engagement and even subverts the typical uplifting sports film structure to show that its true soul was in this coach-student relationship that feels like so much more to us. It’s not going to rank among the greatest boxing pictures, but surely is worth a watch for a feel-good story.

Babygirl

It’s so easy for erotic thrillers to fall too far into camp, or take themselves too seriously, which has caused many, such as Unfaithful or Basic Instinct, to fall into either melodrama or laughability. Babygirl not only succeeds because of its layered themes, but also because of its irony. It feels like a film that has to be made today. Only Halina Reijn behind the camera could’ve made Babygirl feel as audacious as it is without the moral discomfort taking over. The direction, cinematography, editing, and score pack surprises and evolve with the film as the story descends into murkiness and the situation gets increasingly out of hand. 

Nicole Kidman gives her most daring performance in years, a character that on the page seems like many others she’s played, but is ultimately anything but. The script explores Romy’s inability to recognize her freedom to choose after an awful decision, as she throws herself into a situation she suddenly can’t escape. The film dives into power and gender dynamics, workplace standards, and the murky idea of submission. Is power the ability to lie? To be reckless? To screw up, or even give that power up? Are those powers and luxuries different for women, even today?

While Kidman is incredible, Harris Dickinson is equally magnetic. He’s equal parts silly and brutish, and the tough masculinity bursts out of his awkward softness, indicating a desire to pin down and control. Their dynamic is fascinating, but the movie brilliantly leans into camp humor during some of the more cringey scenes, without it overshadowing the mature undertones. Antonio Banderas also has plenty of strong moments, playing Kidman’s husband, a complex, empathetic character in his own right. Sophie Wilde shines as well, and her scenes are brilliantly played and key to the film’s themes.

The film’s thrills come in this fusion of feelings we have towards these characters, and how easily it all escalates. Reijn is clearly having fun with it all, whether the shots of corporate Manhattan, the mirror she holds to these characters, or the remarkable soundtrack choices. The runtime is enticing and you never quite know what you’re about to get. There’s nuance to unpack and never provides easy answers to its questions about its workplace and familial settings, but it all feels so effortless that you never feel like the movie’s working too hard to make you think, laugh, or have fun.

Babygirl - Wikipedia

Mufasa: The Lion King

Rafiki tells Simba and Nala’s daughter Kiara the story of her grandfather Mufasa, the once king of Pride Rock, and his upbringing with his brother Scar.

Mufasa boasts a beautiful cinematic experience that’s best experienced in 3D. The visuals are transporting with their photorealism and colorful sceneries of the wild world, and get to develop new settings without behind held back by recreating scenes from another movie the way 2019’s The Lion King was. That alone warrants the theatrical experience here, and not much else. Though Mufasa isn’t remaking another beloved movie anymore, it’s still restrained by the same lack of characterization that made the photorealistic animals feel emotionally distant in its predecessor. The animals can’t quite emote like they can in other animated films, and this creates a tonal dissonance between what the original 1994 film set for the franchise and the photoreal road the filmmakers are going down now. Aaron Pierre’s gravitas gives Mufasa just the right profundity, but Kelvin Harrison Jr., who’s a wonderful actor, feels rather miscast as Scar, a character who feels inconsistent both performance and character-wise. The problem with the rest of the characters is that save for Mads Mikkelsen’s villain, who’s basically Scar from the original minus the intrigue, everyone is a younger version of a Lion King character, and are stuck doing impersonations of the actors that came before them. There feels like there is nothing to discover emotionally, and the backstory behind the characters doesn’t really enrich what came before rather than just filling in some logistical gaps, all of which form a very cliche story. Not to mention, Billy Eichner and Seth Rogen as Timon and Pumbaa’s gags have been done to death and annoy more than they charm.

Though this one isn’t following the same story of another film beat for beat the way The Lion King was, that movie at least had the advantage of inheriting phenomenal songs from the original film. Lin-Manuel Miranda’s music here is incredibly lacking, with every song feeling derivative of a song from its predecessor, or even more recent Disney films. The worst part is, despite some of the action being visually stunning, the musical sequences are weakened because of a lack of connection to the animal characters who are less animated when they’re made to look real. If this made the 2019 film feel cold to you, this one won’t feel any more energetic. The film opens with a powerful tribute to James Earl Jones, the original voice of Mufasa — the fact that that’s the most (and maybe only) emotionally touching part of the film is very telling. Despite stunning visuals, including some beautiful sequences of the animals in the snow, Mufasa doesn’t offer much originality from a thematic, character, or musical point of view, and everything underneath the breathtaking aesthetic is easy to forget after watching.

The Brutalist

There’s no shortage of incredible films covering the dark chapter of humanity that is the Holocaust, not to mention one starring The Brutalist’s Adrien Brody. That said, no film has asked in this fashion what comes after a film like The Pianist, or even The Zone of Interest — life after the war ended for survivors of one of humanity’s great atrocities, including mass immigration to America, was no “fairy tale” happy ending. Instead, The Brutalist portrays mere life for a Holocaust survivor as what it really must have been: an endless waking nightmare. An early shot sets the tone perfectly: our main character Lazlo Toth, is on a boat arriving in New York, only the camera frames the Statue of Liberty sideways and shakily — a look into Lazlo’s hidden perspective of the world ahead of him.

Brody’s performance is integral to our journey with the film. The unlocking of Lazlo’s ambitions is gripping for the audiences, but even more so is his struggles with his surroundings and his outlook on his sense of self, which has been fractured after the war, as for every survivor. Brody’s chronicling of a fictional man’s journey, who is brought to life with such pain and understanding that some viewers may be surprised this isn’t a biopic, is a tremendous performance and some of the decade’s most remarkable acting. When Lazlo is cold, angry, or hard to read, we still understand and care about him because he’s incredibly delicate and empathetic. Felicity Jones is heartbreaking and vulnerable as Lazlo’s wife, whose tenderness anchors him, while she goes against odds to stand up for him when even he can’t. Guy Pearce is riveting and unforgettable as a larger-than-life man who starts an almost angel in Lazlo’s life, sweeping him from the poverty of immigrant life and giving him a canvas for glory and success. What’s key to the intrigue is that Pearce’s character isn’t so easy to read. He’s elegant, but also temperamental and has a sick idea of power and control.

The film captures a chapter in history in its grandeur, powerfully covering Jewish assimilation in America, and how willing America is to truly let others. There’s a sense of hopelessness to the struggles they endure, as the promises of immigration prove more difficult than meets the eye, but not just that. There’s a feeling of horror underneath, even when there isn’t a moment of violence, and you’re simply witnessing the towering cinematography and hearing the booming score. Brady Corbet brilliantly hides discomfort and terror that’s itching to break out of this historical drama about architecture, and it seeps deep into its audience while never quite making it to the surface in a literal sense. Still, the gorgeous shots, magnificent production design, and undertones of every scene grip us throughout the long time it depicts.


The ending is delivered in a way that’s tonally unexpected and polarizing compared to the rest of the film and hits you like an emotional sledgehammer. It makes the entire experience more heart-shattering and important and is impossible to forget. The Brutalist is a devastating and sweeping epic like we’ve rarely gotten in recent decades, with a look and feel that stuns as much as it quietly terrifies, capturing an entire era with a long but mostly earned runtime. Like the big epic films like Lawrence of Arabia and Schindler’s List, The Brutalist is massive and transformative and is one of those films that’ll stay with you forever.

Kraven the Hunter

Sergei Kravinoff, the son of a crime lord, develops a gift for fighting for and defending wild animals, but soon old and new foes from his life converge as he must embark on the most dangerous fight of his life.

Explaining the movie just then was a difficult task, not in an effort to avoid spoilers of the premise, but because the movie is so shallow it’s hard to really try and sell. It doesn’t quite make much sense, but worst of all, it isn’t fun to sit through. Weak character motivations and a hideous visual style plague this so-called origin story for another Spider-Man villain who Sony tries to manipulate into an antihero, rather unconvincingly. Aaron Taylor-Johnson’s casting as the titular character could’ve been promising in another movie, but he instead looks bored with the material he’s given, and who can blame him? Ariana DeBose and Fred Hechinger are also trying to salvage characters given no weight, but Alessandro Nivola, Christopher Abbott, and Russell Crowe are all awful. Nivola especially is given a lot of screentime but his slimy, unintimidating villain is flat and downright unwatchable.

Kraven, who in the source material is a terrifying brute, is supposed to be a much more sympathetic protagonist here, but we’re never given much reason to like him besides the fact that he’s played by a charismatic, good-looking actor, who isn’t really allowed to exercise too much of that charisma here. The action scenes are ruined by what looks like unfinished CGI, and every character’s look and dialogue is annoying, besides a moments Oscar winner DeBose has that are tolerable at best. The plot points are repetitive, the themes are undercooked, and the overall style is dull and feels more like test footage than a finished film that this character deserves. Not to mention, there’s some painfully obvious dubbed-over lines, which was also a glaring issue in Sony’s Marvel spin-off Madame Web from earlier this year. There’s no real reason here to root for any sort of journey here, as there’s never a promise of any real reward. The film pretends to be gritty, but only ends up being unintentionally humorous. It’s a fittingly empty end to Sony’s Spider-Man Universe of villain spin-offs that like its predecessors in the franchise, you’ll be begging to forget the moment it’s over.