Reviews

Plotwise, Hobbs and Shaw doesn't give anything we haven't seen before and isn't trying to pretend otherwise. The film makes it obvious that the pair are going to bicker and then make up, and it makes that aspect feel half-assed. Even a pair that is supposed to hate each other should have chemistry, but Johnson and Statham mostly phone in their animosity, save for a few good scenes. Their ostensibly humorous bickering mostly consists of taunts about ugly faces or grating voices that lack any real wit (maybe in the inevitable sequel the pair can go undercover on RuPaul's Drag Race where they learn how to give a proper read). Once the two start to work in tandem they develop chemistry, but that doesn't happen until we're in the final act.

What it consistently delivers, however, is tons of action that will stimulate your adrenal gland, if not your cerebrum. Leitch (who directed the first John Wick, as well as Atomic Blonde and Deadpool 2) knows how to keep the set pieces from becoming too one-note by alternating between car chases, gunplay, and old-fashioned fist fighting. He also knows that the action is the most important part of the movie, making sure that we don't go more than 20 minutes without some sort of violence happening on screen. This keeps the 136-minute runtime feeling brisk, and is a welcome break from the comedic relief.

While the action is fantastic, there are some aspects of it that stretch belief. Some of them are hand-waived away by Brixton's cybernetic enhancements (He starts out a chase scene by carrying Hattie/Kirby while running vertically down the side of a skyscraper and ends it by managing to slide under two moving trucks without a scratch), but the ones portrayed by non-enhanced human became almost parodic, culminating in a scene where Hobbs manages to hang onto a chain that is attached to an ascending helicopter without any being lifted up. This ridiculous stunt made even the most enthusiastic audience members groan in protest.

Hobbs and Shaw attempts to transcend its meatball plot by leaning into its thematic elements, to mixed results. The story is set in motion by a mysterious group that wants to advance the human race with technological advancements. As such, the plot does venture into a Diet Coke version of the transhumanist debate, with it (predictably) landing on the side of "stay human" crowd. However, it doesn't really focus on what constitutes humanity or the ethics of changing the human body with technology and instead focuses on the unethical way they want to achieve their goals. In the end, the transhumanist theme feels like a way for the filmmakers to inject aspects of the megapopular superhero genre into a franchise that was about as far removed from the superhero genre as an action film can get.

This is a cheerful addition to the F&F family and a must see for the fans!

Politics is a game of appearances and navigating mass appeal, of course, and it's doubly hard for a woman, no matter how beautiful, how solid her policy positions; early focus groups score Charlotte in the 90th percentile, but "if you were a man, you'd be in the '190s," Lisa Kudrow's press manager admits. The key to ensuring her electability? To bring her 'humor' factor up a few points, to make her seem more relatable to the American public. After all, a woman can't just be smart and capable - she has to be one of the guys, as well. On top of that, she has to be fodder for romantic gossip, whether with Fred or the gormless Justin Trudeau-like James Steward (Alexander Skarsgård), with his toothy grin and inoffensive good looks.

Much the same can be said of Theron, an actress who can seemingly do no wrong, offering crackerjack chemistry with Rogen while standing out in her own standalone comic scenes. Rogen's the funnyman of the equation, but even his wisecracks can't hold a candle to a late-film scene where Charlotte has to suddenly negotiate the return of a captured American soldier while rolling Molly hard. Whether she's kicking ass in full-on action pictures, winning Oscars in prestige dramas, or cracking wise with the best of them in comedies like this, Theron is a movie star of indefatigable range. Hell, I'd vote for her.

All of this only scratches the surface of Long Shot's unconventional charms and doesn't even mention the beautiful, scene-stealing presence of O'Shea Jackson Jr. (an actor I've loved since Ingrid Goes West) as Fred's laidback, successful best friend. But that's the appeal of something as warm, easygoing, and unexpectedly political as Long Shot: if you want to see it for the Seth Rogen jokes, have at it. But fully engage with it, and you'll find a lovely romantic comedy about two people struggling to make a relationship work when the fate of the free world (and public opinion) is at stake.

German directors have a big problem when it comes to portraying a crucial part of their history. Unlike Americans, Brits, or Russians any German celebration of their accomplishments during World War II would be deemed as glorifying villains. As a result other films about World War II come out on a yearly basis while German films on the subject could probably be counted on your hands. But some directors have managed to figure out ways to present the themes of the time or the subjects in a way that fails to offend. Lars Von Trier's The White Ribbon addressed the mindset that led to the Nazi state while Downfall showed Hitler as the insecure child he truly was (and gave us an internet meme for the ages). Turns out there's one more direction to go and Wolfgang Petersen found it in Das Boot.

Das Boot documents the life on a German U-Boat tasked with taking out supply lines towards the end of the war. While the crew earned many victories early, newer battleships with anti-submarine measures mean every enemy encounter could lead to the drowning of the entire crew. Though the crew initial fights boredom an malaize they're quickly thrust into the crucible of battle that appears more and more pointless as the days and losses continue to mount.

So before I get into this movie as a piece of cinema you're probably wondering how we don't hate this entire U-Boat crew. Well this done in a number of clever and probably accurate ways. First and foremost, they're not a bunch of goosestepping Nazis. In the sailors first scene a captain insults Hitler and once they get on the boat the crew ridicules the young "true believer" for his love of the Nazi ideal. This is their job and they're average guys doing it. Hitler being in charge is incidental and they couldn't care less about him. They only care about their own survival and their mission.

There's also a couple other smart script choices. The men are visibly disturbed when they see a ship they've sunk still has has crewman aboard, they handle bureaucracy that screws them over, and they spent most of the movie on the run.

With all of this distance between the crew and the stereotypical German soldier, the audience can enjoy Das Boot as a reflection on the pointlessness of war and a tale of survival. Though the film may lack the quickdodge excitment of The Hunt For Red October this movie does a phenomenal job of putting you in the mindset of the men and gives you a realistic portrayal of the action. The cramped quarters, the panic that comes from every depth charge, it's all there in impressive glory. It's also a major credit to Wolfgang Petersen that the geography of the sub is so clear despite a number of chaotic battle scenes.

Aside from the sub scenes this movie also plays out like a spiritual predecessor to flicks like Jarhead where the crew try to fight boredom and depression as they look for an enemy because it gives them something to do. Even seeing another German U-Boat is cause for a massive celebration because hey they're not alone! The extended cut in particular really drags this section out (I mean it's over three hours) but if you're looking for an accurate portrayal of sub life this isn't bad.

The most notable weakness is the one note nature of all the characters. Considering the amount of time we spend with the crew you'd think we'd get more than the Captain is moral and stoic, the first mate has a tragic backstory but he's reliable, and the audience avatar spends most of his time going "this is awful!"

That's the point though. Director/writer Wolfgang Petersen isn't trying to glorify battle or make it all about heroic sacrifices. People are just trying to survive often against incredible odds and even then it may not matter. Though it's a slow burn, Das Boot knows how to deliver the knock-out punches and really hammer its message about the futility of fighting.

I don't know why critics are being so harsh on the ending. For me, and for most people/fans I feel, it was awesome! Tarantino's always been a collage artist, a man cobbling together new stories from shards of the odd bit of cult culture here and there, and Hollywood sees him fully embracing that mode.

This approach lets Tarantino cut loose, which is probably to the film's benefit, especially as we center on DiCaprio and Pitt as his leads. It's a bizarre thing to see former teen heartthrobs like these two suffer and flail about their closing careers, or to hear so many people call Pitt's character "old." (As one shirtless scene shows us, even old Pitt can still get it.) Of the two, Dalton has a harder time with it, his ego comically wrapped around the idea of his career fading. In one of his latest guest stints as a heavy on a Western, he connects briefly with his precocious eight-year-old co-star (an unstoppable Julia Butters) who reinvigorates his confidence as an actor, especially after an explosive breakdown in his trailer.

DiCaprio is having particularly garish fun here, ripping into his signature Jordan Belfort-era intensity and turning his washed-up TV star into a petulant, gurning child, as you do when you're forced to contemplate cranking out spaghetti Westerns in Rome to keep your career afloat. On the other end of the spectrum is Pitt, all Southern drawl and stoicism, the kind of unstoppable Billy Jack figure who can fight to a draw with Bruce Lee (Mike Moh) and even hold his own in some tense confrontations with the Manson family. The two are gangbusters together, evincing even in their quiet moments the camaraderie of two men who've spent their lives together, Cliff being "more than a best friend and a little less than a wife" to Rick. They shine even when they split apart for their separate stories - Rick's guest spot on Lancer and Cliff's unexpected detour to the Manson Ranch - but each feels of a piece with the other.

As for the Mansons themselves, they play a much more peripheral part in Hollywood than one might expect from a gore-lover like Tarantino. Instead, they're another layer to the gonzo tapestry he's woven, a group of young nutcases who've taken over Spahn Ranch (where the fictional Bounty Law was shot) and who give the older Cliff no amount of discomfort. They're a group of kids resentful of the largesse of Hollywood, who want to "kill the people who taught us to kill" through violent TV shows and movies; as one of cinema's foremost purveyors of bloodshed, it's a bold move for Tarantino to take.

And yet, that self-reflexivity beats at the heart of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, a film made by a man who sees his own obsolescence coming. Just as Cliff and Rick barrel inexorably toward the "end of the trail" for their partnership and the era of Hollywood that would take them in, so too does Tarantino see the same for himself. It's tempting to read it as an "old man yells at cloud" feature, with its characters' many resentments toward young bucks taking their jobs. But it's just as easy to imagine Tarantino owning up to the limitations of your age and range, instead tipping his hat and riding off into the sunset. He's got one more film in him, but even if this were Tarantino's swan song, it wouldn't be a bad note to go out on.

To be upfront, I am notedly critical of the biopic genre, particularly those that center around musicians and performers, primarily because a life's story does not provide a narrative structure with an actual plot. When the totality of a career is the crowning achievement of a life that is being depicted, the guidelines are often too vague to create an actual cohesive tale about said life. Biopics are the film counterparts to nonfiction biographies you can find at your local publicly funded library, and if you have not read one of those since doing a book report in Elementary School, you can be forgiven. While the material could be fascinating, the medium consists of a recitation of facts and events, as opposed to an actual story. In my opinion, biographies translate better into a documentary-style film, rather than a forced narrative out of a compilation of factually embellished, loosely connected significant moments.

Having said that, it is to a film's credit when it tries to be creative with the material it is given, even as it is simultaneously handicapped by its ill-defined goals. "Rocketman" attempts to remedy this obstacle by using Elton's group therapy in rehab as a framing device, where he recounts his life up until that point. It is not the most original technique ever utilized, but it does signify an effort to create an organized story. But ultimately, people do not go to see films like "Rocketman" to identify if there is a narrative structure or not. Chances are that I am amongst the few who suck the fun out of an experience by demanding certain checkmarks that are irrelevant to most. The masses flock to the theaters to see Elton perform his many hit songs and possibly learn a little something along the way, and by that measure, "Rocketman" succeeds beyond a shadow of a doubt. This is a film with exceptional performances and musical displays.

If you are a fan of Elton John, and I believe that is a safe assumption if you are a viewer of the film, you shan't be disappointed with the renditions of most of his greatest hits in the film. The cast is brilliant with their singing, treating the songs like the true art they are, often incorporating elements of fantasy into the choreography that accompanies the lyrics. And to the film's merit, the songs are actively used as plot devices to facilitate character development, a technique that can often be difficult to effectively execute. The entirety of the productions of "Saturday Night's Alright (for Fighting)", "Your Song", and "Yellow Brick Road" are personal favorites of mine, as they display the heights of heart and passion within Elton.

Lead actor Taron Egerton deserves an immense amount of praise for his performance in this role. He fully encapsulates every aspect of Elton, including his display of exceptional vocal talents and energetic, rhythmic dance moves. On the more personal angles of Elton's life, Egerton totally espouses the pain and rage of the loneliness he endured, whether it be due to him coming to grips with his sexuality or the void left by the cold-heartedness of his mother and abandonment by his father, as well as the hedonistic lifestyle Elton embraced as a coping mechanism throughout much of his life. This role was exceptionally demanding and accompanied with sky-high expectations, and Egerton was spectacular.

The third Chapter is utterly incredible. Like the second film, Chapter 3 expands on the mythology and world-building, opening up the world John inhabits even wider. The more we learn about this assassin underground, the more preposterously complex it grows. And yet, there's always thought put into things, to the point where even the grandest absurdities have their own kind of logic. It makes for a highly enjoyable world that we want to spend more time in, and learn more about. That's the true brilliance of this franchise. To just have John killing off people, with no real meaning, would get old fast. But by constantly expanding this heightened reality, we can't help but get drawn deeper and deeper into this Wonderland, tumbling down a rabbit hole, waiting to see where it all goes. By the time John Wick: Chapter 3 ends, you'll be almost as exhausted as John Wick himself. And just like him, you'll be ready to come back for more.

If there's also any single phrase that sums up the guiding principle of the Marvel Cinematic Universe it's this: Hold that thought. (Truth be told, with Endgame's running time of three hours, "hold that bladder" would also apply.)

But the bottom line is that it's as hilarious as mush as it is Heartbreaking.

It's helpful, before going to see Endgame, to cast your mind back to the contradictory feelings of that final scene. This one focuses on the efforts of Cap and the remaining Avengers to implement a do-over - essentially rewinding the effects of Thanos' snap - feels at once sad and deeply satisfying, complicated and surprisingly comic. If many of us have grown up with the MCU, the films themselves have also grown more complex, like a fine wine.

In a sense, Endgame is an example of the MCU cannibalizing itself, but it has always done so. And it does so here in a fresh way that is closer to homage than lazy appropriation. These affectionate flashbacks also serve as a tip of the hat to all the loyal fans who have held this sprawling mythology so dear.

Spoiler Alert? Sure! THOR IS FAT!!!

As high as the stakes are in Endgame, it is also a very funny movie. The humor of the story - some of which takes place in the future, five years after the end of "Infinity War" - has to do with surprising ways in which the lives of certain characters have changed (along with their personalities and, in some cases, their physiques). If Infinity War was about failure, Endgame is, ironically, all about acceptance and moving on. After 11 long years, the Infinity Saga is finally, fulfillingly over.

There is no post-credit scene. But oh, what a going-away party these old friends have thrown for themselves. You'd certainly be in more tears then you were during Infinity war's climax. Tears of joy for most, that is.

These days, it's easy to be cynical about superhero movies. Over the last two decades, the genre has all but consumed the blockbuster business, leaving a trail of predictable, formulaic spectacles in its wake. Most are fine, and some are pretty good, but rarely are they any better than that, even (and sometimes especially) when they aspire to more.

That's a big reason why Shazam! is such a low-key delight. Its aspirations are modest-it wants to amuse and entertain while delivering a feel-good moral about the value of family-but it works hard to achieve them. Although it is loosely connected to other movies in the DC Comics universe, it largely stands on its own, and it actively rejects the gritty pomposity that has plagued so many recent movies based on DC characters, choosing instead to emphasize the idea that being a superhero is fun-especially if you're a kid. It's a movie that aims to defeat superhero movie cynicism. For the most part, it succeeds.

Not many superhero movies can claim to be charming, but Shazam! has personality to spare. Much of that is a result of winning performances from its trio of leads: Asher Angel as Billy Batson, a foster kid who is granted magical powers by an ancient wizard; Jack Dylan Grazer as Freddy Freeman, another foster kid in Batson's group home, who ends up teaching Batson how to be a hero; and Zachary Levi as Shazam, the adult superhero that Batson becomes. Levi, in particular, plays the role of the comically oversized hero with a madcap commitment that is hard to resist: Not since Tom Hanks in Big (which gets an obliging reference) has an adult actor managed such a joyous display of childlike energy and enthusiasm.

There's a villain too: Dr. Thaddeus Sivana, a scowling, bald baddie with dastardly plans to blah blah blah something about the Seven Deadly Sins and infinite power...it doesn't really matter. Sivana doesn't have much depth, but he's played with reliable gusto by Mark Strong, who is so consistent in so many movies that it sometimes seems as if he has entirely cornered the market on middle-aged supporting actor roles. He's the Tommy Lee Jones of the 2010s.

Sivana exists mostly as an adult contrast to the childish glee of Batson/Shazam. Indeed, a significant part of what sets Shazam! apart from so many other superhero movies is its firm focus on children and their view of the world: Superhero movies are often designed to appeal to adolescents, but this one is actually about the often difficult experience of being one, even when you end up with superpowers Batson, who was separated from his mother early in life, finds himself surrounded by a makeshift family in a messy but emotionally warm foster home packed with cute-occasionally too cute-kids who ground the film in a geeky, gee-whiz innocence. (This is a movie in which one character says he took a "deep dive into peer reviewed studies about superpowers" and appears to be completely serious.) Shazam! isn't exactly a big idea movie, but it doesn't need to be: It's a big-hearted film about finding yourself by finding family, and its emotional simplicity and goofy earnestness account for much of its appeal.

Of course, there's the requisite superhero business as well. The movie refers other DC heroes, mostly Superman and Batman, but instead of setting up crossovers or franchise synergy, it treats them as childhood idols, role models for Batson as he struggles to figure out how to be a better hero.

If you go for the flying and punching and magical energy zapping, you won't be disappointed. But even the action scenes work a little differently from most superhero movies, where the object seems to be to show off the CGI budget. But instead of rolling out colossal spectacle for its own sake, Shazam! uses these sequences to support the movie's themes and define the characters and their personalities.

It helps, of course, that Shazam isn't as well known as some of his superpowered contemporaries. The character began in the 1940s as a Superman knock-off called Captain Marvel, which was later acquired by DC Comics after a legal dispute. Eventually, the name had to be changed for legal reasons. That old moniker now belongs to DC Comics' biggest rival, Marvel, which rolled out the big-screen debut of the current Captain Marvel last month.

The contrast between the two films couldn't be more stark: Captain Marvel was a charmless and underwhelming film about an personality-free character who struggled with nothing. The movie worked through predictable, forgettable superhero movie paces in pedestrian fashion, then expected viewers to show up and cheer simply because it existed. Shazam! is an energetic, charismatic movie about a relatable hero who struggles with everything. The movie works overtime to entertain, giving viewers something to appreciate and remember in nearly every scene. Captain Marvel, in other words, was the kind of superhero movie that breeds cynicism; Shazam! is the kind that defeats it. Finally, there's a Captain Marvel movie worth seeing.

Technically speaking, no one gets actually dragged across concrete in Dragged Across Concrete. But S. Craig Zahler's latest film is packed with enough crunchy violence, nasty behavior, and reprehensible characters that you might feel like you are as you sit there watching it. You don't have to like these guys - and they are all guys - to enjoy the wallow either. After all, you never get the sense that Zahler's endorsing his ugly characters' brutal behavior so much as acknowledging that it exists and is worth looking at even if you have to avert your gaze.

It gives nothing away to say that Dragged Across Concrete doesn't end with the good guys winning. There are no good guys in DAC! Period. But as you're sitting in your seat wondering where this is all headed, you won't be disappointed when it finally gets there. It's a cliché to say that they don't make movies like this anymore - nasty, nihilistic, nicotine-stained '70s death trips. But thank goodness that Zahler's doing everything in his power to prove that cliché wrong.

An eclectic group of security breakers get hired by the government to retrieve a very special item. Team leader Robert Redford accepts the deal and the gang plan the heist, execute it and make off with a very unique item.

However, they soon learn they've been duped! The government imposers snatch that item from their hands, Redford's past and a distant old pal come bubbling back, the team looks guilty of crimes and everyone's lives are threatened. The only way to clear their names and ensure the world is safe is to steal that all important item back! But with the security at its highest level can they manage doing it again?

Sneakers isn't a terrific film, but it is an entertaining piece of fluff. Writers/director Phil Alden Robinson crafts an innocuous, enjoyable piece of cinematic candy with an all-star cast in this caper film. There's nothing mind-blowing about it. It's a very likable cast in a fairly by-the-numbers mainstream heist flick. I've read that the cast had a great time shooting the movie. And I suppose that's the feeling it wanted the audience to have - just have a good time.

The story is not complicated at all. Redford's old pal Ben Kingsley dupes him and the team which corners them to steal back that very special box. So, Redford and his team Dan Aykroyd, Sidney Poiter, River Phoenix, David Strathairn and ex-gal Mary McDonnell plan and go about their heist.

It's a breezy movie with the cast exchanging cute one-liners with one another. They come up with some snazzy devices to beat the security that Kingsely has set up in his hi-tech building. Then we watch as it all unfolds and hope Redford can swipe that little box back from Kingsely. For a reward we get a nice, happy, amusing ending that will leave us smiling at the end.

Here's to films about sad-sack professional killers and the sex workers they love. For decades now, Hollywood has been telling elegiac stories of people on the run from lives of violence. Over time, this narrative has become cinema's answer to the jazz standard, a familiar conceit that gives its performers ample opportunity to show off their own individual style. Mélanie Laurent's Galveston is one such example within the genre; while there's a thread of familiarity throughout the movie, her steady hand and the powerful performances of her leads give Galveston its own alluring sense of self.

Few actors embody the threat of violence quite like Ben Foster. From his recent supporting roles in Hostiles and Hell or High Water - not to mention his off-Broadway stint as Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire - Foster seems born to play the abuser, a man hellbent on punishing those around him for the injustices he feels he's been offered by the world. This sometimes leads us to forget Foster's nuance as an actor. Foster finds little moments of fragility amidst the bravado and outrage; in one scene, for example, he contemplates a cigarette before choosing to light it, making a clear decision to embrace his end when it occurs.

And then there's Elle Fanning. Those familiar with her work in The Neon Demon know that Fanning possesses uncanny depth for an actress her age. With Arceneaux, she convincingly moves between innocence, innocence lost, and a calculated innocence that she uses to earn the trust of those around her. Galveston is cruel to Arceneaux, as it is to most of its characters, but Fanning's performance keeps her character from ever falling into cliche. To borrow a phrase from another story set in Texas, there is a part of herself that she keeps just for herself; she has power, even if it's just in the tough decisions she makes to keep ends together.

And what of Galveston itself? Outside of the film's ill-conceived framing device of an impending hurricane, Galveston's story is well-matched to its coastal setting. This is a city that has been wiped away by countless storms, only to rebuild unevenly across economic lines; at times, Galveston feels more like a movie borrowing from The Florida Project than a traditional crime thriller. Laurent delves into the poorest parts of the city to shoot her film - one particular tracking shot is like a guided tour of economic anxiety - allowing Galveston a sense of location unique to many of its peers. If Galveston is indeed just another hoary standard, then it proves more about the talent of the performer than the quality of the song. No noir can truly disappoint when you've got East Texas on your side.

Bumblebee is the best film in the Transformers franchise since the live action original. It's not a bloated, juvenile, CGI barrage with a hackneyed script and terrible acting. In other words, Michael Bay is not the director. The sixth volume succeeds because the story and characters are well-written, have depth. Bay's dripping machismo is replaced by a more feminine sensibility. Screenwriter Christina Hodson and director Travis Knight breathe fresh air into a stale commodity. Bumblebee rekindles the spirit of the cartoon, while adding an unexpected dose of warmth and humor.

Set in 1987, Bumblebee opens with the fall of Cybertron. As the Autobots evacuate the planet, Optimus Prime (Peter Cullen) dispatches B-127 (Dylan O'Brien) to Earth. He is to scout the planet as a possible secret base. The journey does not go smoothly. The Decepticons are one step behind him. His landing observed by a stunned military officer (John Cena).

Hailee Steinfeld stars as Charlie, a grease-monkey teenage loner with a tragic past. Her mother (Pamela Adlon) and goofball stepfather (Stephen Schneider) are constant annoyances. On the cusp of her eighteenth birthday, she's stuck in a minimum wage job, riding a clackety scooter to work. She spends her spare time at her uncle's junkyard, scavenging for parts to fix her beloved father's Corvette. Charlie discovers a beaten up, yellow Volkswagen Beetle. Her attempts to fix the car uncovers an amazing new friend. Charlie finds happiness in the gentle robot. But is completely unprepared for the bad-ass Decepticons, Shatter (Angela Bassett) and Dropkick (Justin Theroux), searching for him.

Bumblebee can be described as The Breakfast Club meets Transformers. The roaring eighties soundtrack and teenage girl angst is skillfully blended with the robot carnage. Christina Hodson's screenplay respects the characters. Charlie has a lot of personality. Her family and social life are thoroughly explored. Charlie finds Bumblebee at a low point. He's confused and frightened, needs help. They grow together, developing a strong bond in the process. It sounds sappy as hell, but actually works. The previous Transformers films lacked feeling. They were cold, purely visual spectacles. Hodson, who's also writing Birds of Prey and Batgirl, delivers a complex heroine. Hailee Steinfeld, Oscar nominated for True Grit, plays Charlie perfectly. Girl power is the fuel that drives Bumblebee.

Travis Knight's experience as an animation director is evident here. Knight previously made the brilliant Kubo and the Two Strings. He understands how to use visual effects to express intent and emotions. Bumblebee says very little in the film. His facial expressions and mannerisms convey meaning. He goes from tender, humorous moments, to knockdown brawls. Bumblebee's smaller stature in comparison to other Transformers is used to his advantage. He has a unique fighting style that beats down larger opponents. Except for the huge opening scene, Bumblebee's fights are mano a mano. I think these are far more effective than CGI onslaughts. Travis Knight brings a vastly different style to Transformers. It's a welcome change that will definitely be embraced by fans.

Bumblebee reinvigorates the Transformers franchise. Christina Hodson and Travis knight have broadened its appeal to a wider audience. Paramount Pictures and Hasbro have smartly taken a new approach. I hope they stick to this path for the next installment. There are additional scenes during the credits.

One of the most compelling aspects of Aquaman is the underwater superhero himself. While his initial casting was rather controversial, Jason Momoa absolutely nailed the role of Arthur Curry. Right off the bat, Momoa sold his performance to audiences as both a badass and charismatic character that everyone could root for. He had the perfect balance of snark that made Iron Man such an entertaining character and fervor that has made Batman such a big-screen spectacle. Even with these qualities, the future King of Atlantis was still a flawed protagonist. He wasn't a perfect character, which really only made him more compelling as the story went on.

While the actual plot of the movie may have seemed incredibly familiar, being another one of the brothers fighting for the throne stories like Thor, Black Panther and The Lion King, it still did a decent job at making it stand out from the competition. While there were certainly familiar aspects that were similar to those other movies, like the duelling scenes in Black Panther, Aquaman still kept some originality in the matter in order to keep things unpredictable. Additionally, the movie did a great job of avoiding cop-out deaths in order to trigger emotional reactions from the audience, with all of the emotion in the movie developing from the story itself rather than from these cheap tricks that many superhero movies have ridden on recently.

The absolute best feature of Aquaman, however, had to be its visuals. Whether the scenes took place underwater in Atlantis or in a city in Italy, nearly every shot of James Wan's was absolutely breathtaking. While previous DC movies like Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice had clever framing, the shots didn't really stand out like the shots in Aquaman. The main difference that made this DC adventure stand far above Batman v. Superman was the color pallete. Previous DC movies attempted to have darker visuals with a desaturated look, whereas Wan and his team pushed the limits of color throughout the movie's entire duration. Its color and visual effects were even better than Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, which broke records with the amount of visual effects put into it.

All things considered, Aquaman is a huge win for DC and Warner Bros. Pictures. Its narrative is compelling, the protagonist is well developed, and it's just a whole lot of fun to watch from beginning to end. This is definitely a movie that you will not want to miss in theaters, as the big screen is truly the best way to experience the visually stunning look that this brings to the table. At the end of the day, Aquaman may just be the best DC movie we have seen in years, possibly even better than last year's Wonder Woman. Hopefully this fantastic storytelling becomes a pattern for DC movies going forward.

This is the third remake of a classic flick, the Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga film is an impressive spectacle that hits most of the emotional highs and lows audiences want from a movie that promises to take you on a melodramatic journey.

Not melodramatic in a bad way, melodramatic in that everything is heightened - the triumphs are soaring, the tragedies are crushing. Musicals are not subtle beasts.

Is it perfect, the most amazing movie you'll see this year? No, but it is pretty great.

It's an electric experience, with Cooper borrowing filming and editing techniques from concert films, filling the frame with an undeniable energy. When Ally hits those first notes, you are completely with her. Her joy is your joy - that emotional transference from screen to spectator is seamless.

Their chemistry is palpable - Cooper and Gaga are clearly on the same wavelength and they're able to have you invest in Ally and Jack's relationship immediately.

Anyone who has seen any of the three previous versions, starring Janet Gaynor (1937), Judy Garland (1954) and Barbra Streisand (1976), will no doubt remember how it ends. But even for those who haven't, it's a familiar trajectory.

The idea is that there are only so many stars - one must move aside for another. So the story isn't just about Ally's journey to the top of the charts and acclaim, it's also about Jack's descent and increasing irrelevance.

Telling the downfall story requires more finesse than A Star Is Born is able to manage - the Garland version does this very well and it's inevitable that this version will always be compared to the ones before it.

Cooper's performance as the sad and struggling Jack is brilliantly calibrated, and consistent throughout - he even nailed the physicality of it, from that leathered, fake-tanned face to the lower octave voice and the constant, sweaty sheen of an alcoholic.

As a director, Cooper is exacting and meticulous with every detail - it's a real achievement for a first-timer.

Sam Elliot as Jack's older half-brother and manager brings another level of humanity to the film while Dave Chappelle is always welcome in a dramatic role.

The Garland version was able to tap into the dehumanizing side of the Hollywood studio system and the trappings of fame, but Cooper's A Star Is Born is more ambivalent about the music business.

A Star Is Born is a satisfying and emotionally evocative epic, nevertheless. And perhaps the "best film" this year.

The best thing I can say about Sean Anders' lovely new movie Instant Family is that it made me consider fostering children, something I had never even begun to consider in my entire life. It's not that the movie shies away from how hard fostering can be-if anything, the movie leans into the difficulties of fostering. Rather, Instant Family does a public service about the foster system and then packages it in a charming comedy that prevents the story from ever being preachy or mawkish. There's a surprising amount of bite in Instant Family, but none of it is mean-spirited or at the expense of foster children. It's a movie where the judgment is reserved for those who take the responsibility of fostering too lightly, and while the film has a glossy Hollywood sheen, it's deeply earnest about the importance of foster care.

Some will likely find that Instant Family is a little too cloying or that it doesn't go far enough in depicting the hard realities of the foster care system, and those are fair criticisms. When tackling social issues, it's almost always possible to do better. But to levy those complaints against the film would be to miss how much it's doing right, and how compelling it can be for an audience that doesn't mind seeing a light family comedy, but also might be a bit more reluctant to watch a documentary or an indie about the challenges of foster care. By presenting this topic within the comforts of a familiar genre, Anders has found a way to bring light to an important issue that some audience members have never considered.

If A Simple Favor gave us more of Kendrick's aw-shucks sarcasm and Lively's surprising acidity, this might've been a dynamic comedy in the vein of Feig's madcap Spy, which veered brilliantly between Melissa McCarthy's self-deprecation and Miranda Hart's cutting exasperation. But the movie aims to be a cheekier Vertigo, and even with a running time of almost two hours, it speeds too choppily through Stephanie's detective work, relying instead on inelegant exposition. Stephanie does run into a couple of fun cutups along Emily's paper trail, including Rupert Friend as a viperish fashion designer and the great Jean Smart boozing it up in an attic like a rejected suspect on HBO's other recent gossipy thriller, Sharp Objects. It all makes for one of the more twisted, circuitous and silly capers in recent memory.

But the biggest pleasure from A Simple Favor is watching Lively, who was so searing in the taut thriller The Shallows and elevated 2016's baffling All I See Is You. She's a slyly versatile performer, capable of landing a killer punch line. When Lively dead-eyes the ever apologetic Kendrick and threatens to "slap the sorry out of you," you laugh, sigh and practically feel the handprint on your own face. She's fearsome and great-even when the movie is only tolerably absurd.

A stunning performance by the unstoppable Amandla Stenberg alone justifies the film's existence as a smart kid in a troubled African-American neighbourhood. Her dad (Russell Hornsby) has cleaned up his act after a spell in prison and set to running a successful local store. Her mom (the consistently excellent Regina Hall) remains a pillar of strength while pressures surge on all sides.

Talking us through an uncomfortable choice, Starr tell us that the local high school "is where you go to get jumped, high or pregnant". With that in mind, her parents have paid to send her to a posh private school that - though nominally inclusive - only allows less threatening manifestations of diversity. This allows Starr a decent education. It also allows investigation of the questions mentioned above.

The tensions come to a head when cops stop Starr and an old pal from the hood while the pair are driving home from a party. It says something about the current American condition that - as with similar scenes in Get Out and Widows - we immediately feel for the safety of the passengers. Prevailing culture layers the sequence with an inherent tension. Things go badly and Starr's world implodes.

There has already been a lot of debate around The Hate U Give - its title derived from Tupac - but nobody sane has been questioning Stenberg's contribution. The young actor has the gift of spreading warmth wherever she goes, and her intelligence shines through in every scene.

Stenberg also has the ability to listen convincingly. It sounds like a small thing, but it is important in a film so fraught with debate.

The Hate U Give clocks in at well over two hours, but there is so much going on that it never drags. There's humour mixed in with the tragedy. There's reason mixed in with the rage - perhaps too much reason for some. Though the film is charged with anger, it skews towards compromise and strives for balance. The first ending stirs the blood. The second spreads a slightly sickly balm across the narrative.

Very worthwhile, for all that.

Midway through First Man, astronaut Neil Armstrong is asked by a reporter at a press conference how he feels about the fact that, should the Apollo 11 mission be successful and he lands on the moon, he'll go down in history.

Armstrong can't answer the question. He impatiently snaps that NASA and the ship's crew plan to be successful. Buzz Aldrin, seated by his side, eventually has to step in to talk about the crew's great responsibility and excitement, while Armstrong stares intently into the middle distance.

The stoicism that might have prevented a man like Armstrong, who was facing either death or a kind of immortality, from being able to articulate an answer in that moment is the heart and soul of First Man. The film is less concerned with delivering a triumphalist portrayal of the 1969 moon landing - which has been done before, we've all seen it - and more with probing what kind of person is able to white-knuckle through the physical, emotional, and psychological toll of this sort of mission and successfully pull it off.

The answer is gratifyingly, understandably intricate. Like last year's Dunkirk, First Man funnels a historical moment through an intimate experience, reminding us that events that appear triumphant in history's rear-view mirror often come at the expense of pain and great personal sacrifice shouldered by real people. But the movie, first and foremost, tells Neil Armstrong's story. We're allowed to see it through his eyes, but in return, it asks us to respect what he went through - and that is not always easy.

First Man is the story of Project Gemini and the moon landing through one man's eyes. At the distance of a half-century, the facts of the moon landing are well-known to most Americans: Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin became the first humans to set foot on the moon on July 20, 1969, the culmination of a "space race" between the US and the USSR.

All these elements are present in First Man, but the challenge with any movie based on epochal historical events is to find a fresh story in familiar facts. In this case, screenwriter Josh Singer (The Post, Spotlight) adapted James R. Hansen's authorized biography of Armstrong. (Armstrong was famously private, but he granted more than 50 hours of interviews to Hansen and gave him access to private documents and family sources.)

The resulting film, directed by Damien Chazelle (who won the Best Director Oscar for La La Land in 2017) is laser-focused on Armstrong's life, beginning with the tragic cancer-related death of his 2-year-old daughter Karen in 1962, prior to him being chosen for Project Gemini. Like the book on which it's based, First Man paints a portrait of Armstrong as someone for whom heroism was never a motivator, and who viewed notoriety with deep reluctance.

That the movie never really reaches a state of full-blown exhilaration is likely to frustrate viewers who are looking to have their sense of ownership in its historical events reinforced. But rather than focus on American achievement, First Man pays its deepest respects to Armstrong and to the men and women who risked and sacrificed their lives to get to the moon. The movie sees Armstrong's reserve as both a blessing and a curse, a gift and a problem, but it's unequivocal in its admiration of his humility. And in this way, it feels less like it's forcing a myth onto the man who made it clear to his biographer that he wasn't seeking renown - and more like a statement of gratitude.

A Star is Born has seen grown men cry and in First Man people quite literally go to the moon and back, but after you watch Boots Riley's searingly funny, painfully true, deliriously deranged debut, you will realise that while those films are comfort food - filling but somehow lacking - Sorry To Bother You is the richest of cinematic caviar.

It is, more simply, the kind of wild ride of invention and intellect you almost can't believe still gets made, but are so grateful when you find out it does.

It's been glibly called this year's Get Out, and I see why.

It is, after all, a film from a black, first-time writer-director (substitute comedian Jordan Peele for rapper Boots Riley). It's a smart genre-blending mix of comedy and drama and, eventually, horror. And, at its heart, it's a subversive take on the black experience in America. Tick, tick, tick. Commission the think pieces!

And yet ... while the comparisons work from a distance, they actually do Sorry To Bother You a disservice when viewed close-up.

Get Out was a fantastic Trojan Horse of a film, at once unsettling and funny and then something else entirely. But Sorry To Bother You - though it also boasts a grand, final twist that boy do you not see coming - is in its own unique groove from the get-go: a heady mix of Charlie Kaufman smarts and Spike Lee social conscience, a visual mashup that's part Michel Gondry and part Stanley Kubrick. It is - we have to assume - pure Boots Riley.

I don't often get the chance to take in foreign cinema, but in the case of The Intouchables, I'm reminded of why I enjoy every opportunity to watch something fairly magical unfold on the screen. Sure, it sounds cheesy, but I have to say, the more foreign films I see, the more I find that I truly enjoy.

The Intouchables, written and directed by Olivier Nakache and Éric Toledano, is a total wild card, and it works in ways that are completely indescribable. The sense of purity and genuinity is evident throughout the film, and is wholeheartedly embraced by the audience. The Intouchables is based on the true-life events of Philippe (François Cluzet), a wealthy quadriplegic, and Driss (Omar Sy), a young man with a troubled background, who Philippe hires as his caretaker. The film follows the interesting relationship that develops between these two men - one of mutual respect and true friendship.

While the foreign reception of this movie has been overwhelmingly successful, the stateside opinions of this movie have been fairly varied, most of which find this movie to be racist, demeaning, or otherwise offensive. I feel as though these opinions are somewhat ridiculous, as the movie itself doesn't ever make race an issue; unless you are trying to read into the fact that the white man is rich and the black man is poor, these men are more peers that initially meets the eye. The unexpected companionship of these two men results in fantastic comedic opportunities, and not only are they hilarious, but they are touching and emotionally raw.

The true magic in this film shines through by way of the incredible acting talent, and their obvious fervor for their craft. It is no surprise that both actors were awarded the honor of Best Actor at the 2011 Tokyo International Film Festival; additionally, Omar Sy's performance as Driss helped him to edge out Jean Dujardin (The Artist) for the César Award for Best Actor. It is rare to find two individuals that have the connection that Sy and Cluzet share on screen, and their interaction is wholly refreshing.



This and the remaining components of the movie all seamlessly work together to provide a satisfying backdrop for the heartwarming story. At one point, Philippe's lawyer displays concern over the choice of Driss as Philippe's caretaker, due to his questionable background. Philippe indicated that such was of no concern, and he was merely grateful to be treated as a person, not as someone with a disability.

While I understand that many American viewers will maintain a perception that this movie is offensive on some level, I feel as though the way we as Americans view race is severely different from those in other countries. While I don't consider myself an expert or "advocate" for awareness of racial discrimination, I find that the perpetuation of such through the media is unacceptable. Still, I think that this movie warrants an open mind, as it ventures beyond the obvious issues, and touches on a level of humanity that surpasses the pulling of the racism card.

To be quite honest, this movie was probably one of the best movies I have seen all year. From a fantastic cast to an emotionally touching story that doesn't get lost or muddled in translation, The Intouchables has leaped its way to the top of my list for possible Oscar nominations (which isn't a far stretch of the imagination). I would definitely recommend this as a movie to put on your "must see" list - I don't think you will be disappointed.

In the vein of Locke, this super low-budget but effective thriller had me on the edge of my seat. It had the appropriate twists and turns to keep the audience guessing. It played with my emotions and had me in tears. How come Danish films are often just so good?

Unfolding in real time, this immediately involving story bends and turns in surprising, sometimes horrifying ways. Enriched by Oskar Skriver's marvelous sound editing, which takes us from a speeding van to a bloodcurdling crime scene with equal authenticity, the movie smoothly blends police procedural with character study. What's happening on the end of Asger's phone line is gripping enough, but what's happening inside his head - illuminated by Jasper Spanning's almost abusive close-ups - is every bit as fascinating.

I think this is the first time I've seen Leaving Las Vegas since that time I'm not really sure when. It still holds up as a serious emotional wallop of a movie. Nicolas Cage plays Benjamin, a drunk whose life is coming apart at the seams already when we meet him. He hounds a friend for a few bucks in a fancy L.A. restaurant. He's let go from his job. He burns or trashes all his possessions, including a photograph of a wife and son, a fleeting glimpse of Ben's past that is never accompanied by explanation. Then he moves to Vegas, sells his car, and meets Sera (Shue) whom he tells of his plan to kill himself by slowly poisoning his body. It ought to take three to four weeks, he figures.

Ben and Sera have an immediate and inexplicable attraction to one another - or at least she to him. Ben seems more in need of a little bit of human companionship in his final weeks. She's a prostitute. He's a drunk. The two of them wear these titles as if they're immutable facts of their lives. He tells her, after she asks him to stay at her place, that she can never ask him to stop. And she gets this because she knows he can't ask her to stop turning tricks. Although maybe she needs someone to care enough to ask that of her, and maybe that's why she eventually asks him to see a doctor.

Figgis wrote the screenplay based on the novel by John O'Brien, with which I have no familiarity. We know Ben lost his wife and son, presumably through divorce resulting from his alcoholism, and a rage in the middle of a casino from which he's dragged away while screaming, "He's my son," suggests perhaps he lost custody. All we know about Sera is that she's been under the thumb of an abusive pimp (Julian Sands) until he's dispatched by some gangsters to whom he owe money. In any other film it might be a major fault that the characters have so little back story, but there's a magnetism in Cage's and Shue's performances and in Figgis's screenplay that makes it better that we know so little about Ben and Sera outside the actual events taking place on screen. It forces the viewer to directly confront their behaviors and actions without consideration for where they've been. The effect is a spare, yet highly effective, film.

The heist genre is one that's been done to death, but with American Animals, filmmaker Bart Layton manages to pull off something wholly unique. Best known as the director behind the wildly entertaining documentary The Imposter, Layton brings his non-fiction background with him to his first narrative feature film, interlacing the movie's fictional portrayal of events with interviews with the real-life subjects. The effect is engaging, offering a self-reflection not often seen in crime films, and while the movie ends up hollow in some spots, the cast is terrific and Layton announces himself as a filmmaker to watch.

When American Animals begins, text appears on the screen stating "This Is Not Based on a True Story," but after a few seconds the "Not Based on" drops out, and we're left with "This Is a True Story." The film chronicles the real-life heist of precious rare books from Transylvania University in 2004 Kentucky, pulled off by a quartet of mostly well-off college students. The central mastermind duo behind the heist is Spencer (Barry Keoghan), a talented young art student, and his adrenaline-fueled troublemaking best friend Warren (Evan Peters). First pitched as something of a joke, the two begin to meticulously plan a heist of a couple of rare books kept in a secure library on the Transylvania University campus. Spencer is spurred by the notion that all great artists had to endure some kind of hardship to become great, and he's lived a perfectly nice family life. Warren, meanwhile, is a bit of a free spirit, spurred to act mostly out of the desire to see if they could actually pull this off.

From the get-go, Layton establishes a slick framing device that sets this movie apart. Keoghan-who had a tremendous 2017 with breakout turns in Dunkirk and The Killing of a Sacred Deer-may start a sentence as Spencer, but the camera will then swiftly move right to reveal the real Spencer, finishing the character's sentence. All of the major players involved in the real-life heist show up as part of these interviews, and it's kind of like I, Tonya if the framing interviews were the real people. American Animals uses this device to address the idea that one individual's recollection of events may be completely different than another's, but more importantly it adds a layer of self-reflexivity that's much welcomed.

Indeed, the biggest turnoff of American Animals is we don't really understand why these idiot college students did what they did. It was a flawed plan from the get-go, they weren't particularly hurting for money, and one of them came from a supremely wealthy family. So it's hard to get invested in the planning of the heist-which takes up the bulk of the film-when you don't really care if these guys succeed or not. It's here where the interviews play the most crucial role, as the real-life counterparts in hindsight provide perspective regarding just how idiotic and harmful this whole pie-in-the-sky idea really was.

Upgrade is set up as a colorful near-future thriller, but it's actually pure body horror. It is a movie about a man who looks like Tom Hardy who becomes incredibly violent and skilled at fighting thanks to a symbiotic add-on embedded inside him. He can talk out loud to the implant's voice, and he's the only one who can hear it. With its help, the Tom Hardy-type is able to easily defeat a bevy of anonymous alley thugs and their ilk, though he's plagued with the suspicion that the implant may not be entirely moral.

In the film, written and directed by Saw co-creator Leigh Whannell, the Tom Hardy-type is Logan Marshall-Green. There are some truly interesting, if not unsubtle, themes at play in "Upgrade". As technology continues its endless march of progress, it is important to consider how much control we give computer systems over our lives. Everything in this movie's vision of the future is automated or computerized in some way. Not even analog technology can save the day. In the same year that we get the mostly pro-VR "Ready Player One", "Upgrade" gives us imagery of VR addicts in a derelict building reminiscent of an opium den. It may be lunkheaded, but the messages are sufficiently alarming.

The only flaw with "Upgrade", coincidentally is with its universe. The story Whannell decides to tell is just too interesting compared to the various other things hinted at in this sci-fi setting. Like for instance, Grey's revenge plot gets repetitive around the time he offs the second bad guy and decreases in excitement as it becomes increasingly obvious the movie is headed for a dumb villain reveal (which, alas, it is). I was much more interested in the strange cyberpunk underworld that exists just below the cold, sleek surface of the movie's futuristic technology.

Overall, the film is very entertaining and a "must see" for most filmgoers.

BlacKkKlansman walks a fine line between the hilarious and the horrifying - with some unbearable tension thrown in as the KKK's plot comes to a head. Ron's conversations on the phone with Duke are some of the most memorable and amusing in the movie, with the cop and his pals guffawing at the pomposity and ignorance of the Grand Wizard.

The film will tickle you at one moment, and the next hit you with some of the foulest and most hateful language a person could use against black people, Jews and women. It's chilling, literally, like a dunk in a cold bath - and it's also impossible to pretend that you would have to go far to hear this sort of rhetoric used today. Welcome to 4chan, ladies and gentlemen.