So, hammering yet one more nail into the coffin of originality, here comes another remake. Or is it reimagining? 
Leigh Whannell is Australian for horror the way Fosters is Australian for beer. And this is his second take on a classic Universal monster, following by The Invisible Man.
That movie was a rather interesting modern revision, girl-powered for the perfect modern messaging platform and actor-powered by the talented Elizabeth Moss.

Wolf Man doesn't have that. What it does have is a very realistic, visceral, body horror approach to the theme. And yes, the practical effects are very impressive, but that's about it.
The movie dragged, despite its very reasonable length, and failed to wow at almost every turn. You could see what Whannell was going for, and you'd be very impressed just watching the special features on the DVD, but the movie itself was just so consistently underwhelming.

First, off, there's almost no story to speak off. The movie is essentially a three-player special--a family of three, mismatched and bizarrely cast. Meet Blake, Charlotte, and Matilda Lowell. They are not particularly happy and oozing chemistry, and yet when Blake's psychologically abusive father is finally declared dead, Blake can think of nothing better for their family than to take them from the big city and his wife's job for a summer in the woods to clean out his cabin.
Mind you, this is the very same cabin where Blake had endured a very traumatic childhood with a prepper type of dad. The same place Blake couldn't wait to leave as a kid and did as soon as he was able to. Makes you wonder just how bad Blake's memory is. Or does the tired trop of city folk who just need some time in nature override all good sense?

Anyway, once they get to the woods, things go bad immediately. And it's all downhill from there. The rest of the movie is dedicated to Blake's transformation into the titular monster much to his wife's and daughter's terror. Again, just the practical effects and makeup that took up to seven hours to apply are particularly impressive here.
To be fair, it stands to mention that Whannell tries for some dimensionality here by switching you to the Wolf Man's POV as he drifts further and further away into a world of his own - as in he sees eyes as glowing lights and cannot understand speech.

The acting? Christopher Abbot does a solid job with what he's given, though he isn't all that likable or sympathetic in any iteration. Garner, who plays Charlotte, is a perfectly decent actress, woefully miscast in the role of a mother of a ten-year-old. (Sure, she's technically old enough, but she looks much too young for Abbott's wife or Firth's mom), and consequently the entire family appears wildly mismatched.) The kid's great. Kid actors are almost always great.

But the movie doesn't thrill. Didn't thrill the box offices either, which is pretty unusual for Whannell's work. No matter how much it tries to growl and claw its way into the major leagues, it falls flat and stays flat. Pass.

The ubiquitous A24 is no stranger to horror. While a lot of their offerings tend to be woefully overrated--yeah, I'm looking at you Midsommar and I Saw TV Glow--Heretic hits all the right notes. In fact, it is a pitch-perfect symphony of dread, wrapped in arguably the most disturbing slice of real estate since H.H. Holmes' nightmare mansion and anchored by fantastic performances from its succinct cast.

It starts of simply enough with two young female missionaries, Sisters Barnes and Paxton from the Church of LDS--Mormons for those who don't go in for acronyms--paying a house call to a man, Mr. Reed, who signed up to receive more information.
They enter his house with the best intentions and slowly come to find out that they cannot leave.

You see, Mr. Reed has his own (deadly) game to play. His own conversion to offer, as it were. As the creeping unease mounts into edge-of-your-seat tension, Sisters Barnes and Paxton soon find themselves for their lives.

As it turns out, the theology-obsessed Mr. Reed has a very specific theory about religion and will go to any lengths to prove it. And his house is built for keeping people in.

This movie could have been many things had the stars (quite literally) not aligned to make it so freaking good.
As Mr. Reed, Grant (nominated for this role for BAFTA, Golden Globes, and Critics' Choice Awards) is sheer perfection. A creep extraordinaire. The winsome charm of his youth gets obscured in the wrinkles of age and turns on a dime into something utterly terrifying.

He's such an interesting actor, really, maturing from the floppy-haired, goofily charming Brit of the 90s rom-coms into a properly serious, fascinating, unpredictable character actor he is now. His aged cuteness, droll sense of humor, and a certain world-weariness collude to make him a perfect villain.

Sophie Thatcher as Sister Barnes (the more reserved, cautious, and cynical of the two) continues to impress. She's terrific on Yellowjackets, a perfect blend of strength and vulnerability that shines through here, albeit in a different light. And she's multi-talented too. Stick around for the credits to hear her beautiful cover of a classic tune.

Chloe East (Sister Paxton) I wasn't familiar with, but she has arguably the strongest arc in the movie and does a great job with it. 

What's interesting is that both Thatcher and East grew up Mormon, though both are no longer practicing. It is likely what fueled their stunning performances as young women whose faith gets tested in the worst possible way.

Another fascinating thing is how pro-religion the movie is. For the hyperwoke, avantgarde studio like A24 to produce a movie with such a strong message speaks volumes to the increasingly conservative American zeitgeist. 
I mean, this is very much a story about two young religious people whose faith is tested by the devil (or at least a devil) and (I'm about to give away the ending, watch out!) they come through with shining colors ... or at least with their faith intact.
Moreover, it is an overwhelmingly positive depiction of a religion with numerous controversial practices. Practically a recruitment video. Though Scott and Beck, the writers and directors of the movie, don't seem to have any Mormon associations. Go figure.

But sociopolitical connotations aside, Heretic is awesome. One of the smartest, best made horror movies I've seen in some time. Be a convert. Go see for yourself. 

People just can't get enough of a good real-life tragedy. This vulture-like appetite leads to the constant dissecting of the lives of the rich and famous in various formats. Larrain has made something of a career of it, lately gearing specifically toward iconic dead women. 

I watched his Callas drama first, before checking this out, so it's easy to see that he definitely has a very specific narrative style. And I don't think I like it.
Instead of focusing on the entire life or even a good chunk of it, Larrain zooms in on a specific time and place and eviscerates it with the voyeuristically macabre glee of a child pulling wings off a butterfly.
In this instance, his subject is Princess Diana, and his focus is on the 1991 Royal Christmas celebration which she attends against her will and spends the entire time contemplating leaving it all behind.
Diana is presented as a very fragile, moody, unstable, self-harming individual, prone to active hallucinations. The situation is politely volatile as it is blatantly clear that it's a bad fit for all parties involved.
It isn't a flattering representation, although apparently accurate enough to draw praise from some former royal employees. But more importantly, it isn't a very interesting one.
The movie is too narrow in focus and too idiosyncratic for proper appeal. It's pretty but dreadfully slow and soporific. And KStew in it ...
Well, here's the thing. KStew is a remarkably talented actress. Her career has managed to survive and evolve since being a kid actor despite various personal scandals and the dubious rise to fame via Twilight garbage. As far as depictions of real-life people onscreen goes, she does a lot here from inhabiting the voice and the accent to embodying the certain mannerisms. It was apparently enough to secure her nominations from Oscars, Golden Globes, and Critics Choice. And yet, the entire time I kept thinking that's KStew in funny hair doing a British accent. Despite being the same age as her character at the time and similar gamine physicality, she just didn't quite lose herself in the role to the point where it was no longer her.
Overall, the movie didn't work for me and was difficult to stay awake for. User milage may vary.

The Your Monster looks like yet another retelling of the Beauty and the Beast. But it isn't. It so wonderfully isn't. It's deeper and sadder and more disturbing. It's also kind of awesome.

Melissa Barrera, who has screamed her way through two Scream movies, before being canned for not being able to shut up about her political views, and also has slashed through the vampire delight that was Abigail, has certainly earned her street cred as a scream queen.
But with this movie, she finally gets a proper star turn. Utilizing her musical theatre background and her comic-horrific skills, she is pitch perfect in the role of a freshly dumped actress who moves back to her childhood home to lick her wounds and discovers a monster living there.
He growls, grumbles, and tries to kick her out, but they end up getting along famously, because fundamentally they are both profoundly lonely. And also, the monster is so freaking charming.
The more involved the two of them get, the more go-gettery and outspoken Barrera's originally meek character becomes. And then she starts getting carried away with it.
I'll avoid saying more, but it's a doozy of an ending.

Aside from Barrera, the movie's full of talented nobodies and lesser-knowns, with Dewey as the Monster being a real standout. Clever, morbidly whimsical, and as charming as the best kind of monsters, this is an absolute delight from start to finish. The poster may scream romance, but it's a completely unique take on it. And yes, it may scream :) Recommended.

As a huge Agatha Christie fan, I was delighted when Branagh started his line of adaptations. Despite the fact that he has wildly miscast himself as Christie's eminent detective.

And sure enough, the first two movies were dizzying delights that respected the source material while providing stunning exotic backdrops and equally stunning casts of actors.

This movie was decidedly less so on all accounts. Set only a few years after the end of WWII, it has a strong melancholy streak. Venice is as beautiful as ever, but the people, including the protagonist who claims retirement (as if he ever could leave it all behind) all bare emotional scarring.

Then an American friend, the author Ariadne Oliver, shows up to brighten the mood. She drags Hercule to a most unusual Halloween Party, featuring the female medium who she swears is the real deal and daring Hercule to debunk it.

And so, they go to a dark and gloomy palazzo for a party, like one does. The palazzo used to be an orphanage and is said to be haunted by the spirits of dead children.
Adding to the creepy ambiance is the fact that the current owner's, Rowena's, daughter had recently gone mad and committed suicide there.

So, throw in a mixture of diverse characters with their own agendas and traumas, introduce a frightening medium performance followed by an equally frightening murder, and what do you get? A locked palazzo mystery!

And how does it work? Well ... decently enough. There are plenty of surprises until the very end, trying to dazzle the audience enough to make them overlook how many things don't add up. After all is said and done, looking back on it introduces a lot of questions about the what and who and why. Especially, the why.
Would Dame Christie approve of such a thing?

Well, the funny thing is that this movie is only "inspired by" her novel, Halloween Party, and is far from a direct adaptation. Moreover, the original was one of her least successful books. When the book came out, it was widely panned by the critics, some of whom cited the author's age as the problem. And yes, there were some plot snafus too.

So, okay, but is an imperfect Christie-inspired mystery still worth watching? Yes, but with expectations adjusted accordingly. Again, this is very different from Branagh's first two movies - much, much darker, at times positively veering into the realm of supernatural.
Visually, it's gorgeous, with Venice effortlessly doing most of the heavy lifting. Mind you, the book was set in England, so it's almost like Branagh knew he was going to need more pizazz.
The cast is solid, if a bit unremarkable, and a messy attempt at diversity that seems to override plot faithfulness and other logistics these days. Not sure Tina Fey quite worked for me in this. And why on Earth is an Eastern European housekeeper named Olga Seminoff played by a French and French-accented actress?  
There's some choppy editing and unnecessary scene lingering and close-up. Branagh's movie feels self-indulgent, like he's buying his own act more than everyone else.
The man he plays has a notorious ego, but it's different in appearance. Much like the character's actual appearance differs from Branagh's representation.

But, in the end of the day, the mystery proved unpredictable and the setting irresistibly beautiful, so, while somewhat disappointing, this wasn't a regret. User mileage may vary.

The fact that Eastwood, now well into his 90s, is still making movies, let alone decent one, is wildly impressive. But how impressive was the movie?

Well, it featured more moral complexity that a lot of similar vehicles, but in the end, narrowed down just enough to appease the average i.e. black-and-white morality viewer.
The plot revolves around a man named Justin Kemp, a journalist who, against his wishes, gets stuck being juror. The defendant is James Michael Sythe, a white-trashy sort accused of killing his girlfriend.
Right there, you have a very interesting class dynamic to explore.
But that's only a small slice of this pie. The much bigger one has to do with the fact that as the evidence are presented, Kemp begins to suspect that he was the person responsible for the death of the young woman, however inadvertently.
His guilty conscience forces him to throw the otherwise unanimous jury decision into a tailspin. But in the end, he can only do so much, leaving him faced with a terrible decision: confess or condemn an innocent man.

Kemp is a recovering alcoholic, just getting his life together, with a new baby on the way, which put him under an enormous amount of pressure. So what will he do? What would you do?

The case is being prosecuted by an ambitious, justice-devoted, ridiculously named Faith Killebrew. (Thus reuniting the lead with the woman who played his mother 22 years ago in About a Boy.) And there is her journey to consider too. She is someone who convinced justice equates to the truth, coming to realize that in this case it may not be so.

The movie is very well-cast and acted, so as a serious drama, it's nice to watch.
On the logistics side, it leaves something to be desired, with a highly circumstantial case, an inexplicable late-in-the-game pseudo confession, and the heavy-handed ending, where subtlety would have won the day.

Warning for those who haven't see the movie - stop reading.

By all rights, the movie should have ended with Kemp in his child's bedroom, peering out of the window, jumpy as a police car goes by, leaving him forever haunted by his choice. And leaving Sythe locked up for a crime he did not commit to comment on how the justice system works for people of his socioeconomic class.
Eastwood is too All-American of a character for such nuance, so he goes for a more crowd-pleasing conclusion, simplifying the moral conundrums for the audience.
It's a choice. It's fine. It works. Some may want more, but what are you going to do?
The movie is solid, if unremarkable. But no, it doesn't quite impress as much as its director's longevity and prolificity.

An Aster, mostly known for his indie terrors like Midsommar, has come up with an entirely different nightmare here. It is still very much his style and, more importantly, still a very A24 movie, but it's different.

How so, you may ask? Well, for one thing the horrific elements here are more absurdist; for another, they are stretched out over 180 freaking minutes. And because, like most nightmares, this one is weirdly compelling, you end up watching the entire thing in a sort of disbelief and bewilderment. 
There is a plot here. This is a movie about Beau, played by a flabbed-up, whimpering, simpering, greying, and balding (but hey, at least he isn't singing!) Joaquin Phoenix. Because he's such a good actor, he can do just about anything, but the whimpering alone makes you want to smack him. A lot.
But then, Beau has been smacked by life, which explains his tragic lifestyle. And of course, he isn't very good at life. When he sets off on a trip to visit his mother, it becomes an odyssey through an apocalyptic world that looks eerily plausible, violent, and terrifying. And Beau surviving it is due to chance not skill.
The real question here is will Beau survive returning to his mother.

The entire movie as seen in retrospect is actually all about guilt, specifically the sort Jewish mothers lay on their sons. But because An Aster's brain appears to be wired differently, it comes out as this mad allegory/metaphor. 
Joaquin is game the entire way and his mother, played by LuPone with a frightening gusto, is scarier than a clown in a sewer.
There are some fun smaller roles too, and a sex scene that truly etches itself into your mind whether you want it to or not. (One should hope not, but different strokes ...)

Overall, this isn't a movie one recommends to others or even enjoys. But it's striking enough in its awfulness and oddness to merit a view from a curious cinema buff.
Unlike so many, I wasn't a Midsommar fan. But I still remember it and may occasionally reference.it. This movie has the same sort of quality. It's weird (inventive, creative) enough to be memorable. Which seems to be Aster's thing. 
Beau is Afraid got Joaquin a Golden Globe nomination, but the movie isn't going to be another Midsommar - it's simply too weird and too long for that. Still, it may become some bizarre cult classic. 
​Watch at your own discretion.

The Creator is a peculiar movie. On one hand, it is a proper modern blockbuster, complete with bombastic special effects and a photogenic, ethnically diverse cast.
On the other, it's curiously at odds with the modern American zeitgeist of jingoistic pride and fears of Artificial (or sadly any other) Intelligence.

Specifically, in The Creator, robots are the good guys. Just how I like them! Man(and women)kind are the problem here, as exemplified on one side by the protagonist (a US Army sergeant Joshua Taylor, sent to investigate the mastermind behind the robots - Nirmata) and the amusingly militant Alison Janney and his boss, the Colonel with a personal grudge against the robots.

Joshua, played by Washington Jr., goes native on his assignment, falling in love and knocking up with the woman he is meant to investigate. When things go wrong, he is left to his own sadness, until a new mission and an unusual child who will change his mind about everything.

Gareth Edwards is known for huge, CGI extravaganzas, and this movie is no exception. It's fun and fun to watch, and, crucially, smarter than the average cinematic bonanza of this kind.
John David Washington is a lead that's serviceable at best. The industry has been trying to make him into one for a while now, but sadly he just doesn't have the looks, presence, or talent of daddy Denzel. In this movie, he is constantly outshined by ithers, mainly the wonderful child actor who plays Alphie.

The movie didn't lend in the best of times, amid strikes about AI use, etc. nor is it dumb enough for the public at large, but the quality is there, and it is thought-provoking in a way few effects-driven vehicles are and is well worth a watch. And a surprisingly sharp commentary on the society that is more eager to destroy that coexist.

This was definitely one of my favorite recent robots-on-screen representations.
As anyone who has spent a significant amount of time around people and/or read the news, I'd love to see the future of intelligent, compassionate, sentient robots. Bring it!