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.

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.

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.

Sing Sing

Sing Sing takes place in the titular New York prison and focuses on inmates involved in the Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA) program, as they work through their traumas to find redemption through acting.

Colman Domingo beautifully leads this film as one of the only actors not starring as themselves, opening us to a completely different side of him from his turn in Rustin, but equally moving and majestic. His charisma and soul commands the screen like not many actors can, balancing authority in his efforts to strengthen camaraderie throughout the RTA’s production at Sing Sing, and a longing to leave his imprisonment and prove his innocence from a crime he’s doing time for that he didn’t commit. He makes us deeply care for Divine G’s struggle but his “performance within a performance” scenes are also impossible to look away from. Paul Raci is also lovely as the RTA director encouraging the inmates to open up and unlock their deepest feelings through the process of acting and imagination. Besides those two Oscar nominees, almost everyone else is a veteran of the RTA program playing themselves, unlocking a naturalistic sincerity in not just the characters but the experience (similar to watching Frances McDormand interact with real-life nomads in Nomadland).

As these inmates find the hidden parts of themselves and get in touch with their most vulnerable sides, the experience of watching Sing Sing becomes just that for the audience. We’re left reflecting on our own livelihoods we’ve taken for granted, and the times we may have felt trapped and longed to escape from realities of our own. Acting is not just redemption for these characters we grow to feel deeply for — it reinvigorates their love for being alive, and reminds them of something to fight for, including their brothers on the stage with them. The film frames this rehabilitative process as a reclamation of the self, even behind bars where people are often treated as, well, less than people. It’s a rare experience that breaks down barriers and makes us feel close to characters that would often frighten us from the outside in any other film. Beyond those discussions about empathy it may stir within us, the film is kind-hearted and funny even amidst the most difficult of settings. In this mix of Oscar-nominated actors alongside a number of men playing themselves, the real often blends with the scripted, both for the characters and the art, that invites audiences for a complex but loving and extraordinary drama of raw and beautiful storytelling.

Twisters

Kate Cooper, a retired tornado-chaser and meteorologist, is persuaded by her former colleague Javi to return to work with a new team and new technologies to stop deadly new tornadoes from wreaking havoc on central Oklahoma.

Twisters is a film that takes a vastly similar premise to the original, and a genre that’s been tired and torn since that first film’s release — a few good-looking movie stars trying to survive a deadly natural disaster — but winds up being better and more engaging than that first film in just about every way. The stars’ endless charm is the film’s secret weapon. Often in a modern effects-centric disaster film, one might find themselves either bored to death by the human scenes or yelling at their dumb decisions. The characters here aren’t just compelling, they’re also so much darn fun to watch. Daisy Edgar-Jones (of Normal People, Fresh, and Where the Crawdads Sing fame) is one of the reasons the film is so interesting to watch, and Kate’s intelligence, empathy, and passion for making a difference through science make for an emotional lead. If Hit Man hadn’t already proved that Glen Powell was a superstar here to stay, he’s again awesome here as a scientifically smart, behaviorally dumb Internet-famous tornado chaser whose group and approaches clash with Kate’s. His character genuinely feels layered, in addition to the funny cowboy side we first meet, and his chemistry with Edgar-Jones is irresistible. Not many actors have the charm Anthony Ramos has given every film he graces, and his presence in the film isn’t taken for granted. A few great actors like Brandon Perea and Sasha Lane could’ve been given a little more to do, though.

In addition to genuinely wanting to watch these characters interact and survive, the tornado action and destruction are a blast. The effects look like a great blend of that Amblin Spielbergian practical look and some large CGI set pieces. They all come together seamlessly with the booming sound effects to create an edge-of-your-seat experience. But director Lee Isaac Chung’s style is never only about big effects and havoc. The characters, science, and even the editing are always key to the story and pace here — not to mention, the soundtrack adds a terrific lot to the film. This new take on a familiar story meshes the old and the new with plenty of genuine thrills that I haven’t felt in many franchise films this year. But none of it matters without its stars’ infectious charisma, which, together with the tornado action, will put a big smile on your face and prove one of the year’s strongest blockbuster sequels that undoubtedly tops the first.

The Fall Guy

Colt Seavers, a down-and-out stuntman, must find the missing star of a new blockbuster film he’s doubling on, while (hopefully) winning the director (and his ex-girlfriend)’s affection back.

David Leitch continues to be a leading voice in action movies with his creative and passionate voice for action and comedy that often turns out star-studded and visually appealing. Much of the film’s charm comes from Ryan Gosling’s brilliant turn as Colt. Like his Oscar-nominated Ken in Barbie, Colt is a sad shell of a “cool guy” who’s too evidently madly in love. Gosling’s comedic timing is at the lightning speed of his Ken, or Holland March from The Nice Guys, and his big personality infuses Colt with a foolishly endearing heart. Emily Blunt also gives one of her most entertaining performances of late as the romantic lead, and Winston Duke is also loads of fun as Colt’s best friend and the film-within-a-film’s stunt coordinator, while Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Hannah Waddingham, and Stephanie Hsu also round out the stellar cast. Waddingham in particular is very extravagant but delightful as Gail, the producer of the film Colt’s working on.

The most clever and thrilling part of The Fall Guy is that Leitch makes the movie stunt-filming scenes as high-stakes and exciting as the actual action scenes of the film. The great scale, dedication, and sound effects make shooting an action movie stunt feel like the incredible, hard-achieved feat that it really is. Additionally, the lightspeed humor feels effortless thanks to the writing, editing, and the cast’s delivery. The lively soundtrack does have a few generic and overused selections, but it’s not enough to sink this smooth romantic action comedy where all the different genre pieces play off each other pitch-perfectly. The director’s career as a stunt coordinator is made evident by the love and tribute to the stunts community here, in this blockbuster that’s hilariously pleasing and greatly worth the big screen price of admission.

The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare

Guy Ritchie’s latest action film is loosely based on true, mostly encrypted stories, in which the British military recruits a small group of highly skilled soldiers to strike against German forces behind enemy lines during World War II.

Guy Ritchie seems to be racking out more movies than some of his fans will be able to keep track of, but among a slew with varying qualities, this one may end up being looked back at as one of his most entertaining films ever. Ritchie imbues the screen with an Inglorious Basterds-like irreverence to its Nazi-killing action. The WWII battles are swiftly edited and have action sequences that’ll make you cheer with glee at the bad guy body count and the different ways they get killed by the titular heroes. Henry Cavill leads the pack with a similar irreverence he gave Ritchie’s The Man From U.N.C.L.E., but with an even rougher edge to his badassery. The ensemble of Eiza Gonzalez, Alan Ritchson, Henry Golding, and Cary Elwes all give the film a liveliness that makes up for a lack of uniqueness to them, as well as a menacing Til Schweiger who maintains a strong presence. Unlike last year’s Operation Fortune, the film’s witty humor matches the extra wicked energy the director is known for, but it may lack character depth for some viewers. Most of the characters have little substance besides “recently incarcerated” or “they’re crazy”, but their outlandish personalities make up for that in the case of this film. The soundtrack choices aren’t always on-point, but the Western-inspired music usually adds to the film’s sharp direction. The film also doesn’t manage to always balance the different moving plots seamlessly, as Ritchie sometimes can’t help but indulge too much in his trademark banters which can sidetrack, but ultimately culminates in some strong tension in the third act. The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare perhaps achieves what Matthew Vaughn’s The King’s Man failed to do — turn covert misfit spies into World War heroes and make the journey feel exciting and earned on the way. Ritchie is no stranger to the approach he set out to achieve here, but he manages to balance out his quirks with an excellent style, an interesting mission and cast of characters, and a rewarding catharsis when the action and comedy hit their peaks, as you might not want the fighting to stop out of sheer Ritchie delight.

Back to Black

Back to Black chronicles the life and music of Amy Winehouse, through the journey of adolescence to adulthood and the creation of one of the best-selling albums of our time.

It may feel like a step up from recent music biopics like Elvis and I Wanna Dance with Somebody, and may be on par with something like Respect and not quite at the glory of Rocketman. Marisa Abela is great as Winehouse, bringing the young music-loving girl to the screen in the start and the mess of an unstable addict she becomes later in life. But what’s most unbelievable is Abela’s singing which completely captures the one-of-a-kind grandeur of Amy’s voice. There are times when Abela completely disappears and you simply feel the singer alive in front of you. Eddie Marsan gives one of his most memorable performances to date as Amy’s father, while Lesley Manville also brings a lot to the movie as her grandmother. When Jack O’Connell comes in, however, as Amy’s love interest and eventual husband, the film falls into messy melodrama that sinks the runtime and falls into the same traps that many of these biopics suffer from when channeling the artist’s pain and troubles. Winehouse’s journey through love and addiction is filled with cliches, but is empathetic enough for us to forgive her shortcomings. The film also does a great job of incorporating her songs into the film, and best of all, it manages to have its audience actually interact with the subject as a tangible person, rather than just a larger-than-life legend. The more minimalistic approach to the musical biopic gives Back to Black a strong start, but you’ll also have a few too many instances of deja vu, though we’ve certainly seen it done worse. It’s watchable enough for non-fans of the late singer, but for some, it might not stand out among similar films with similar beats that have come out far too recently.

Dune: Part Two

In the second part of Denis Villeneuve’s adaptation of the classic sci-fi novel, Paul Atreides seeks revenge against the Harkonnens, who slaughtered most of his House Atreides, and liberate the native Fremen of the planet Arrakis while joining them and learning their ways, all while the fate of the Imperium lays in the balance.

The first Dune from 2021 may have been one of the most stunning blockbusters in recent memory, but this extraordinary sequel puts everything in its predecessor — and almost any action movie I’ve ever seen — to shame. Picking up shortly after the first film, the drama is heightened, the world-building is bombastic, and the sound and visual experience is a one-of-a-kind theater trip. Visceral is such an overused term these days that it wouldn’t do Dune: Part Two justice; you feel how wide this universe spreads and the history of the different conflicts and races that inhabit it. And once you’re brought into this fictional world, you’ll never want to leave, as the nearly 3-hour runtime flies by and every plot development is fascinating. Beyond Villeneuve’s imagination, Greig Fraser’s cinematography is the real MVP here. The beauty within the uncertainty of the desert planet is captured in such a scope that it demands in IMAX viewing, and the different planets all contribute a symbolic and gorgeous aesthetic. Timothee Chalamet takes us on the next step of Paul’s journey: his desire to adapt and fight and his fear of allowing power and faith to corrupt him. He proves that he’s always been a movie star that’s here to stay, and Rebecca Ferguson’s Lady Jessica also takes really interesting directions that make you see her role in the story, and of her son’s, in a murkier way. Zendaya also becomes a lot of the heart here as Chani, one of the franchise’s most noble characters, and Josh Brolin is always terrific as Gurney, while Javier Bardem puts his soul into the role of Stilgar, whose faith drives him towards Paul and Jessica. Austin Butler may be the standout, however, as Feyd-Rautha, whose deranged and sadistic presence create a nail-biting character and a powerful young man who has fully embraced his disturbed nature.

Though Dune: Part Two ups the ante with its visuals and performances, its the powerful script and heightened emotional stakes that make this experience what it is. The film explores questions as to how faith and hope can be exploited, and if the urge for power truly corrupts whoever gets a taste of it. Though you may find yourself trying to guess which paths these characters will take, there’s also lots of unexpectedness and the film’s most intense moments took my breath away. You understand so deeply the dynamics of this galaxy and its cultures, and how much lays in the balance. The exhilarating scale and exciting, constantly developing pace only works because of the passion behind each character and story thread: passion to lead, rule, fight, love, honor, avenge, or secure a future. These moral greys form the dark and poetic drama that’s impeccably guided by frame-worthy shots and booming sound. Never have I felt so deeply that I didn’t want a film to end, as once you’re sucked into this marvelous world by Villeneuve, you’ll never want to go home. We’ve rarely seen emotion and grandiose like this in action movies so flawlessly convert to a magnetic cinematic experience. The Empire Strikes Back comparisons are worthy but also a little humbling; this reaches the bar that The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King set for sci-fi/fantasy epics. It’s a show-stopping galactic saga that unleashes its ambition and magnitude onto you in a way that will entrance and thrill whoever buys a ticket. It’s a spectacle that sets the bar so high for whatever else is to come in blockbuster filmmaking, and like the unreal visuals and scale of Avatar: The Way of Water, needs to be seen on a massive screen, to be transported with other people, and watch a story unfold that you’ll never forget.

Argylle

Elly Conway is the reclusive author of the Argylle spy novels . Soon, she realizes the plot of the new book she’s writing starts to mirror real-world events, as a global spy syndicate starts to come after her.

It’s always a blessing when Matthew Vaughn gives us a glimpse into his twisted mind with his witty and bombastic action scenes, and Argylle has a few of those, but it’s everything else that disappoints. Vaughn directs with a love for spy material and cartoonish entertainment mixed with modern, meta flare. The script, however, completely misses the mark and looks the commanding energy that his Kingsman had. Even Sam Rockwell, whose charm and goofiness often comes effortlessly, has to work with dialogue that falls flat and the attempts at humor don’t manage to illicit a response. Though Henry Cavill has some fun and Bryce Dallas Howard tries her best in the leading role, there’s more left to be desired in Ariana DeBose, John Cena, and Samuel L. Jackson’s screentime. Bryan Cranston’s villain may be the weakest link of the cast, as everything he’s given to do is annoyingly generic.

The movie’s downfall is also its ambition, which is often what lifts Vaughn up above the rest. The ludicrous twists are executed in a head-scratching way, and all the film’s rules or explorations of fiction vs reality are thrown to the side for more frustrating decisions that make its lead character less interesting. The pacing also suffers greatly in the film’s second half, the end of which sees us getting a few of those glorious scenes of carnage Vaughn’s known for, which still feel softened compared to what they could’ve been due to the PG-13 rating, but are delightfully exaggerated and have great soundtrack choices. By then, however, the journey to get there is simply exhausting and it may be too little, too late for many viewers.

Argylle is a massive disappointment in which a singular director brings his trademarks to the screen yet again, only this time without the laugh-out-loud glee or the clever script that usually support his vision. Its ambition unfortunately exceeds its grasp, and its inconsistent and convoluted execution make this invitation to take the world a little less seriously with Matthew Vaughn a sadly unrewarding one.