The game’s in the name! I love movies and television, and I always try to look for the good in everything while also respecting the amount of work that goes into creating a piece of content. After years of reviewing for the Cape Cod Chronicle, I decided to start my own self-published review website where I can continue to build my skills and experience as a critic while also chronicling my love and appreciation for new and older films alike.
You’d think that the quirk of Wes Anderson and Roald Dahl would be a match made in heaven, meshing perfectly and complementing each artist in turn, and yet it still feels like both refuse to compromise and let the other dominate the project — an odd thing, considering Dahl has been dead for over thirty years. I think that speaks to the testament of his writing and how unique his style actually is.
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| Image courtesy of Netflix |
I should have expected it — after all, the world has been crazy enough these last few years — but it’s still surreal to see major studio releases about events that happened not only within my lifetime, but during a time when I was actively paying attention to the news. The pandemic has ensured that this has increased over the last few years, but no new release feels more familiar than Dumb Money.
Dumb Money tells the story of a group of amateur investors who were able to put a short squeeze — look it up — on two hedge funds that bet on video game retail company GameStop to fail. The effort was led by YouTuber and financial analyst Keith Gill (played in the film by Paul Dano), a financial broker from Massachusetts who led a ragtag campaign to invest in GameStop to ensure the hedge funds would not succeed in profiting from the company’s demise. The movement led to an SEC investigation and a Congressional hearing, all of which is depicted in the film.
What began as petty revenge is now the blockbuster phenomenon of the summer.
To be clear, we can never be entirely sure of the “revenge” part, but it sure seems like there’s some triviality involved. Writer/director Christopher Nolan, whose acclaimed masterpieces include Memento, Interstellar and the Dark Knight trilogy, parted ways with Warner Bros. in 2021 after a nineteen-year partnership, which included the production and distribution of the majority of Nolan’s films during that time.
Elsewhere in the entertainment world, a live-action film about the iconic Barbie doll has been in various stages of development since the mid-2000s. It cycled through various writers, directors and stars, and eventually was set to be directed by Greta Gerwig (fresh off of hits Lady Bird and Little Women), co-written by Gerwig and her partner Noah Baumbach, and starring Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling as Barbie and Ken, respectively.
As a queer, gender-fluid person with big thighs and a tendency to talk more than I should, I’ve always identified with cartoonist ND Stevenson’s work. Netflix’s futuristic fantasy Nimona, an animated adaptation of Stevenson’s 2015 graphic novel by the same name, is no exception.
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| Image courtesy of Netflix |
I was impressed with how the animators translated the 2D drawings from the graphic novel into 3D animation for the film. The art is unique and the animation feels very fluid. It’s a different spin on Stevenson’s characters in a new style, while preserving important parts of the character design. I loved seeing Nimona as a punky delinquent covered in piercings, but I also love that she retained her big thighs and partially shaved head from the comic. It feels fresh and new, while still true to the source material in the ways that matter.
It can be tricky to know what type of story can sustain a film’s runtime, especially one with a basic premise that sounds more like a short film or a sitcom episode. Such is the case with You Hurt My Feelings, a new comedy-drama from A24 that makes no apologies for its capacity of brevity.
You Hurt My Feelings features Tobias Menzies (Game of Thrones) as therapist Don, husband to novelist Beth, played by Julia Louis-Dreyfus (who still finds time to star in more modestly-budgeted films, even as she begins to make her mark on the blockbuster Marvel movies). They have a near-perfect marriage, anchored by great communication, an adult son (Mrs. Fletcher’s Owen Teague) still in their life, and a close relationship with Beth’s sister’s family. But that begins to unravel when Beth inadvertently hears Don’s honest opinion of her latest book, which doesn’t align with what he had told her about it. A misunderstanding follows, and you might be able to figure out how the rest goes.
You Hurt My Feelings runs a tight 93 minutes, and packs every facet of relationship drama it can into the time it has. It’s the latest feature from Oscar-nominated writer/director Nicole Holofcener, who made her mark on the film scene with 2018’s Can You Ever Forgive Me?. Like that film, You Hurt My Feelings is driven by its central cast, all with commanding presences and the ability to expertly juggle comedy and drama, oftentimes in the same scene.
Given time and opportunity, the best filmmakers are able to hone their craft and create a unique reputation for themselves within the cinematic sphere. It’s difficult to think of a modern director with a more recognizable visual style than Wes Anderson. A slew of AI-generated videos have recently attempted to capture said style, but what those lack are the soulful core of what Anderson imbues every frame of his films with, and that sort of thing is impossible to digitally replicate.
Anderson’s latest is Asteroid City, which I see as the culmination of years spent establishing and sharpening the aforementioned style. It features an impressive cast of both Anderson regulars and newcomers alike, all of whom are fully committed to the very particular way of speaking and acting that has come to define Anderson’s characters. What sets Asteroid City apart is that, while some of his other films occupy a specific world all their own, here there is a narrative purpose behind the strangeness, which brings a whole new dimension to what we’re seeing. There doesn’t always have to be a story-motivated reason behind the design, but in this case, I find it fascinating that Anderson has decided to go that route, and I wonder what it could mean for the stories he decides to tell in the future.
In 2018, Into the Spider-Verse blew away any preconceived notions of how a Spider-Man movie, and even a superhero film in general, should operate. It introduced Miles Morales, the first Black Spider-Man, to mainstream filmgoing audiences. It completely flipped the expectations of how animation can behave on the big screen.
Unsurprisingly, it also cleaned up at the box office. A sequel was inevitable, and after a hefty half-decade wait, Across the Spider-Verse is now upon us. Nearly half an hour longer than its predecessor with a monumental weight on its shoulders, this may be the most pressure a superhero sequel has ever been under (excepting, perhaps, Avengers: Endgame). It had to deliver in ways that were previously unprecedented.
I was only a young, doe-eyed theater worker when Book Club was released in 2018, but it dominated my small community cinema. I myself saw it later in its run, and although my developing sense of film criticism appreciated its cheesy charm, I could not stop asking myself “how did this make over $100 million?!”
The (debatably) long-awaited sequel Book Club: The Next Chapter mostly abandons the titular element, instead taking the central ladies out of their comfortable homes and flying them to Italy, jumping from one unexpected adventure to the next. Diane Keaton, Jane Fonda, Candice Bergen and Mary Steenburgen all make a triumphant return (and no, even though it might seem like it, this is not the same crew from 80 for Brady — at least not entirely) as seniors seeking a new lease on life. And since this is a feel-good comedy, that’s exactly what they find across the pond.
Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 is perhaps Marvel Studios’ most exciting project since Avengers: Endgame. It’s been long-delayed, and more newsworthy than most Marvel projects (especially considering writer/director James Gunn’s firing and subsequent rehiring), and as many consider the Guardians series to be among Marvel’s best sub-franchises, expectations are high.
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| Image courtesy of Marvel |
I am one of those people who was absurdly excited for Guardians Vol. 3. It’s been my most anticipated Marvel movie since 2021’s No Way Home, and I (along with many others) were eagerly, and somewhat nervously, anticipating how Gunn would end his trilogy of wackos and weirdness. This is one of those rare Marvel films where anything can happen, and the stakes are exponentially higher than normal (after all, are they going to make any massive story swings in Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania, or save the big moves for the next Avengers movie?). With unpredictability at an all-time high, it’s time to return to a cosmic corner of the universe for a grounded space adventure with the capability to absolutely destroy me emotionally.
I should start out by saying I have never read the classic Judy Blume book that Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret is based on. It was a valuable part of the childhoods of many, and so beloved that Blume was resistant for nearly half a century for the book to be adapted to film. It took the brilliant brain of legendary writer/director/producer James L. Brooks (The Simpsons, Broadcast News) and the keen eye of writer/director Kelly Fremon Craig (who burst onto the scene in 2016 with the marvelous coming-of-age story The Edge of Seventeen) to convince her that it deserves to be brought to life on the big screen.
Universal hasn’t been doing well with their monster-related cinematic universes since the 1950s, when the overlapping and screen-sharing came primarily in Abbott and Costello crossover movies. The “Dark Universe,” which was supposed to kick off with 2017’s The Mummy (a favorite of both critics and fans), was a catastrophic failure. It’s astounding when you think about it — you’d think that a studio that owns the rights to such iconic characters and stories would know how to handle them, and give them the films they deserve.
The solution? Begin again, of course — but not overtly. Start off with a film that establishes the world in a unique and exciting way, but could function as a one-off if it all goes south. Throw in Chris McKay, director of The LEGO Batman Movie, and Rick and Morty writer Ryan Ridley and you have a certifiably bonkers movie on your hands.
There have been very few times in my life that I have been so floored by a television series that I want to sit with it for a while before going out and telling everybody about how absolutely incredible it is. The only show that has done that more than once (to the best of my knowledge) is HBO’s Barry, which is now in its fourth and final season.
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| Image courtesy of WarnerMedia |
Barry, which premiered in 2018, stars former SNL star Bill Hader as the titular ex-military hitman who struggles with anxiety and focus in the very profession he’s gifted in. After a job goes awry, Barry decides to dedicate his life to acting, choosing to forsake the world of crime in favor of taking a class with washed-up performer Gene Cousineau (Happy Days’ Henry Winkler). Soon after, Barry begins to learn it’s not that easy to quit the world he’s so deeply ingrained himself in, and maintaining a life in both of his chosen worlds is only viable for so long.
Through a complex web of events, Barry has found himself in prison by the beginning of the show’s fourth season, as his relationship with nearly every single other character has been irreversibly changed and, in some instances, destroyed entirely. There’s an air of seriousness and solemnity settling over this season, as every choice that every character has made thus far comes back to haunt them. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s Barry’s final season, and it’s the last chance for bold tonal swings — but maybe it’s because everything that has happened in the show’s first three seasons causes the stakes to feel so real and grounded (and sometimes downright scary), in addition to being even more crucial for the eventual outcome. The words ‘final season’ only add more urgency.
Succession is my latest obsession. For years, I’ve been hearing all sorts of talk around every corner of the internet about how incredible it is, how it outpaces nearly every other HBO original series, and how it elevates every single one of its performers to the next level of their acting careers. In the second week of March, with three weeks until the premiere of the fourth and final season, I decided I would stop missing out. I pressed play, and my perception of what makes a dramatic series succeed irreversibly changed.
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| Image courtesy of Warner Bros |
On average, I watched two episodes a day, somedays so much as five. I became enthralled with its characters and fascinated with its penchant for playing out its biggest drama off-camera, instead primarily dealing with the way the characters react to these events. It’s something I’ve never seen before, and it’s one of the things that sets Succession apart from the rest in an incredibly unique way.
The final season premiere turned into an event. Even though I had just finished the show-stopping third season two days before, it felt like I had been waiting far longer to see how it would all resolve. And just like that, it’s back to live TV again — no more binging, no more auto-play that would resolve the previous episode’s cliffhanger in an instant. We have to wait a week to see how it all turns out, and that’s part of what makes shows like this work so well. They make you wait, they make you theorize, and they make you excited to see more.
I have a special relationship with Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre. It was originally slated for release in January 2022, before a standard push-back two months to March. Then, for seemingly no reason whatsoever, it was “indefinitely delayed”…a sentencing with the potential to kill a film’s release entirely. I was assigned the review for SiftPop in December 2021, and I have been eagerly awaiting the film ever since.
It would eventually come out that Operation Fortune was locked back in the vault for a bit due to the presence of some notably Ukrainian bad guys, and its release may have seemed in poor taste (or, at the very least, badly-timed) due to the inception of the Russo-Ukrainian War, which began to dominate headlines on nearly every major news site.
But now, a year later, Operation Fortune, the latest from action director Guy Ritchie, is finally in theaters. Comparatively, a year’s delay isn’t too much (The King’s Daughter, the last film to feature William Hurt, was finally released in 2022, a full eight years after it was filmed), but I didn’t let the delays hinder my excitement. I like Guy Ritchie, and the cast seemed like nothing to scoff at. I kept my faith, and I was rewarded for it.
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| Image courtesy of Warner Bros |
I feel like there’s no need for a question today, because if you simply read what Spirited is about, it’ll pop into your head automatically. We follow the Ghost of Christmas Present (played here by Will Ferrell) who takes on the challenge of haunting an “unredeemable” human soul, a manipulative businessman played by Ryan Reynolds who is “dogmatically committed to the idea that people never change.”
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| Image courtesy of Apple TV+ |
Say it with me: do we really need another retelling of A Christmas Carol? It’s a classic story that everyone knows the major beats to, even (sometimes especially) if they’ve never read the source material. But Spirited practices what it preaches and presents a promisingly original take on Dickens’ novella, utilizing the proven comedic talents of its leads and (wait for it) transforming the tale into a vibrant musical.
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| Image courtesy of Netflix |
“Italy’s just so romantic…you’re gonna die. They’ll have to drag you out of here,” says an outgoing guest at the very start of the second season of The White Lotus, which proved a hit for HBO when it premiered last year. From the instant those words left her mouth, I had the sense that they would be true, in both a literal and metaphorical sense.
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| Image courtesy of Warner Bros |
