Jared Mobarak

This insane stable of A-list actors finally got to show their chops. Downey Jr. gives some of his best work during act one with Johansson, Renner, and Evans coming a close second to matching his pain as they try to lick their wounds.

It helps, too, that the music is good (Kat and Bastian sing a lot, each song being plot-specific considering they’re writing about their love and its demise), the integration of social media effective (Kat’s life is online and Charlie still uses a flip phone), and the inclusion of Lou and the kids as a way to see both Kat’s and Charlie’s hearts beautifully tears down their defenses as well as ours where accepting this “whirlwind” (it is months, not days) at face value.

Kemble takes great care to construct a tough Staten Island-raised, Irish-American history so each personal struggle depicted can be traced back and rendered authentic.

Benson and Moorhead removed all excess—great for propulsion, but a detriment to investment. Actions become almost robotic at times as their inclusion is more about advancement than character building.

The whole possesses a pretty consistent narrative timeline, each new step building off the last with more invasive measures keeping colonialists’ descendants fat and happy.

I’m not certain if the truth ever came out about that evening’s events beyond speculation, but I don’t think anyone would question the believably authentic script that Taylor Allen and Andrew Logan wrote for Chappaquiddick.

Familiar yet effective, straightforward yet unapologetic.

Stevens excels at playing put upon characters mired in self-doubt with both heavy drama and infectious humor (see Legion for another great example). He deftly pulls off the necessary instantaneous shift from frustration to epiphany very well.

We Summon the Darkness reveals itself to be a fun ride when all is said and done because nobody on-screen knows what he/she is doing.

The documentary gets repetitive as Mokhnenko does his thing over and over again. The promise of more keeps us engaged and the absence of it disappoints. This is too bad because when it works it is captivating.

There’s also some commentary about twenty-first century technology and cellphone culture, but I don’t think Taylor goes far enough to make it more than throwaway insight soon forgotten for crazed violence. As far as the latter goes, Mom and Dad delivers crazy in an exciting way that never bores.

Nothing Blakeson gives us is necessarily new or unique, but his ability to put it all together into this very American capitalist greed package is fresh enough to enjoy that familiarity for its sheer hilarity.

Oh is fantastic as the earnest socialite who appears to have never lifted a finger towards work her entire life, but she’s also superb at the contriteness necessary to believe in a rebirth. Heche revels in playing a narcissistic taskmaster.

If some things could perhaps be narratively tightened, you always get the gist of what Fessenden is going for while knowing those moments which might be lacking aren’t a product of intent. And if you somehow find yourself unable to get past them, it’s impossible not to enjoy the stellar cast of supporting players.

Level Up feels familiar without boring us because we’re unsure how Matt will get out of his next predicament devoid of the skillset necessary to fight his way through.

The title De forbandede år [Into the Darkness] isn’t therefore solely about Hitler’s shadow absorbing Denmark into its empire. It’s about the insidiousness of white supremacy consuming those who believed themselves immune days earlier.

If anything it simply reminds us of his onscreen charisma and endearing humor, his handle of Hughes’ descent into eccentricity and insanity proving memorably entertaining. While he’s not the lead, he is the glue.

The result is an introspective character study caught against a gorgeous yet volatile backdrop. While I personally believe the payoff is worth the journey, however, I wouldn’t begrudge others for feeling as though they’ve been jerked around.

Where things go is easy to guess considering the plot’s rather simple trajectory of personal growth and emotional maturity, but the pathway is always surprising.

It’s using a taboo topic to compare/contrast how those existing within it can be angel and/or demon. It’s not, however, trying to comment on that topic, so don’t expect a message movie. This is a genre film utilizing its subject matter as a springboard towards drama.

Picking one direction and sticking to it may have served the whole better, but at least these issues can be dismissed as hiccups more than deal-breakers. They hold it back without sinking it. Credit the actors for this truth because they ensure the fun never ends.

You won’t get the gravitas of Rocky, Raging Bull, or Creed, but you will get a character worthy of immortalization thanks to spirit and shenanigans.

The marketing may try to dress it up like a prestige picture, but Magnificent Seven is a summer season thrill ride.

That pace can also lead to some wonky performative moments, but everyone is earnest and charming enough to overcome brief lapses pushing for a laugh.

The film bills itself as a suspense thriller due to the predicament Kyle and Swin must eventually try to escape, but it works best as a comedy using that narrative drama to entertain regardless of the stakes.

Cvetko isn’t therefore interested in mining what it means for these three to get together. That they join is inevitable. It’s what this relationship gives them that matters.

What makes The Quarry compelling is the fact that we know from the start that Whigham isn’t a monster. His performance is too full of heartbreak and remorse for that to be true. This man is caught within a loop he knows he can stop if he only finds the courage to do so. It’s not easy.

A walk through the woods is thus the scenario that brings up the two genres. Mona sees promise and excitement being alone with Faruk while he sees the shadowy unknown harboring monsters ready to pounce. The film ultimately exposes that neither is true thanks to Drljaca’s decision to keep things firmly rooted in the uncertain volatility of reality—these teens crossing paths creating as much room for strife as joy in the grand scheme of things.