Search Results

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes May 8, 2024 By: Button Hunter Friesen Dubbed by many as the “thinking man’s action franchise,” the Planet of the Apes films has garnered itself quite high esteem over the years. What started as a single above-average 60s sci-fi blockbuster quickly became a cash-grab franchise, complete with a failed reboot at the turn of the millennium by Tim Burton. A balance of brain and brawn was finally met with Rise of the Planet of the Apes a decade later, followed by two excellent sequels ( Dawn and War ) that proved to be the exception to the rule of the dumbed-down CGI-heavy summer blockbuster. The momentum was too hot to put a cold towel over, prompting a continuation in Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes (the perfect title for critics striving to hit a certain word count). And just like they proved the doubters over the past decade, Kingdom rises above the notion that it’s an unnecessary addition, as it reaches for newer relevant themes in a world turned upside down. The central ape of the modern reboot trilogy, Caesar, has now passed, with his legend taking different forms in the many generations to follow. Earth is still an ape-dominant world, with them talking in semi-complete sentences and harnessing the power of other animals (eagles, horses, etc.) to progress their clans. It’s a feudal time of several clans all living disparately, one of them being a group of eagle herders deep within the jungle. A young ape named Noa (Owen Teague) knows that there is more to the world than the arbitrary borders his clan elders have drawn. But instead of a great journey inspired by self-discovery, Noa’s adventure is spurred by warring ape factions that seek to dominate and enslave others. The motivation for these aggressive apes is the deification of Caesar into a Christlike figure. Led by Proximus Caesar (Kevin Durand), who sees himself as the second-coming of the messiah, are essentially medieval crusaders, fighting to purify the land. “Apes together strong” has become one of their commandments, only this time it’s been twisted to brainwash apes into indentured servitude as there isn’t a common enemy in the form of humans, with only a few left who are intelligent enough to speak. Writer Josh Friedman keeps the brain of Kingdom firing at all times, holding up a mirror to the apes just as much as it does to all of human history. The words of Caesar have now become copies of copies of copies, with the loss of meaning being replaced by control and lust to grab hold of the power they possess. While it may sometimes over-explain itself, there’s a lot to appreciate in the moment and the many moments after the lights have gone up. In conjunction with Friedman, who is working from a foundation laid by Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver, the writers of Rise who James Cameron has recruited to help steer his Avatar films, is director Wes Ball, now also taking a few inspirations from that particular blue franchise. This is a new world from the time of Caesar, with Ball relishing in the time needed to relearn its environment and culture. There’s a patient rhythm to the storytelling, with just as many quiet moments of introspection as there are moments of shrieking bombastic. The overall production qualities are still top-notch, even if they are a mild step down from what director Matt Reeves was able to accomplish with his two most recent entries. The rich, natural colors of War have been replaced with an overly lit palette, and the ape CGI is slightly less expressive in the facial area. And the excellently underappreciated work by composer Michael Giacchino is sorely missing. It doesn’t feel like the highest form of criticism to simply compare the previous films to this new one, but it’s nearly impossible to avoid it after the bar has been set so memorably high. Under all that digital fur are some quality actors, notably Teague as our new hero. It must be catnip for an actor to inhabit a role such as this, especially after Andy Serkis revolutionized and displayed to the world just how seriously the craft of motion capture performing should be taken. There are real emotions on display, with Teague and his other ape castmates deserving just as much credit as the visual effects department. There’s also Freya Allan as the intelligent human Mae, who serves as the main catalyst for the debate over whether humanity has the right to take back that they once held a several millennia-long grip over. That debate will surely rattle on and become more intensive in the successive sequels, which will have the opportunity to follow the same trajectory of the previous sequels by improving on an already solid start. There’s also the possibility that they drag over the same terrain that we’ve become accustomed to. But this franchise hasn’t done us wrong for a while now, so I’ll let the side of optimism take over for the time being. It’s a nice feeling to have, and not one I take for granted. More Reviews One Battle After Another September 24, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen A Christmas Party September 23, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Him September 18, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen Swiped September 19, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Hunter Friesen

The New Hollywood of the 1970s May 4, 2023 By: Hunter Friesen In the late 1960s and early 1970s, many American filmmakers sought to revolutionize Hollywood cinema. For the past several decades, American films were built upon prestige and spectacle, drawing millions to see wondrous images and famous faces on a gigantic screen. Largely influenced by the French New Wave and Italian Neorealism, a new batch of American filmmakers created a movement called the “American New Wave” or “New Hollywood.” This movement defied the nostalgic standards of yesteryear and created a more innovative and artistic style of filmmaking. With the meteoric rise of television and inflated production costs, studios were in a state of financial ruin when this movement was beginning to form. Coupled with the disbanding of the Motion Picture Production Code in 1967, these filmmakers had a golden opportunity of artistic freedom and expression. Two of the most prominent filmmakers in New Hollywood were the Italian-American duo of Martin Scorsese and Francis Ford Coppola. They modeled their filmmaking process around the auteur theory and did whatever they could to break and reshape the rules of Hollywood. The two films that broke new ground were Coppola’s The Godfather in 1972 and Scorsese’s Taxi Driver in 1976. These two films challenged Old Hollywood storytelling through their use of social messaging, complicated central characters, and attitudes towards on-screen violence. The incorporation of social messaging within movies had been around for some time in Old Hollywood, but it was often lightened for audiences. Stanley Kramer spoke about societal issues in many of his films, such as The Defiant Ones and Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner . Despite being released right around the time of the counterculture movement of the 1960s, these films were geared towards older generations of moviegoers, the ones that would better respond to conventionalism and star power. While he revered Kramer, Martin Scorsese didn’t follow in his footsteps when it came to telling his story. Taxi Driver is set in the authentic 1970s version of New York City, filled with pimps, prostitutes, drugs, and murder. In a voiceover, the central character, a lonely taxi driver named Travis Bickle, describes his nightly routine: “Each night, when I return the cab to the garage, I have to clean the c** off the back seat. Some nights, I clean off the blood.” Travis is just a cab driver, and only about three feet separate him from his passengers. And yet, somehow semen and blood end up on his seats. Our imaginations can only run wild with the disgusting things he witnesses every night. Seeing these horrific events nightly slowly pushes Travis to his breaking point, which he was already a bit too close to due to the undiagnosed PTSD he carries with him since his discharge from the Vietnam War. He has no contempt for his fellow man and only sees them as the worst versions of themselves. In one of his monologues, Travis describes the cities residents as ”animals coming out at night – whores, skunk p*****s, buggers, queens, fairies, dopers, junkies, sick, venal. Someday, a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets.” This quote shows the mental downfall of Travis and how he decides to take matters into his own hands. Scorsese, and screenwriter Paul Schrader, give the audience an honest and unsensitized depiction of what New York City is like. Gone are the days of the glimmering bustle of New York in films such as Guys and Dolls and Breakfast at Tiffany’s . Taxi Driver, along with other New Hollywood films like Midnight Cowboy and The French Connection showed New York as a cesspool of crime and villainy that no decent person should visit, let alone live in. Also set in New York City, albeit a few decades earlier, was Coppola’s The Godfather . Adapted from the novel by Mario Puzo, Coppola steeps his film into the rich Italian immigrant culture, one filled with hardships and stresses the importance of family. Vito Corleone is a character that is given immense psychological development. Many of his actions are done to protect his family and strengthen his relationships with the other crime families. He still can be considered a villain, as he orders men to be killed and works in illegal enterprises. With Brando’s method acting, Vito was an unprecedented authentic depiction of Italian-Americans, distancing the image away from the Tommy Gun swinging depictions in earlier films such as The Public Enemy and Scarface . There could also be an argument made that Coppola’s new image became a harmful stereotype, as The Godfather became immensely influential in how Italian-Americans were portrayed in future films. Similar to Vito, it’s difficult to place the character of Travis Bickle on the spectrum of hero and villain. He takes a complicated journey from an outcast to a killer, with almost everything being under the surface. Scorsese and Schrader avoid what director Sidney Lumet called “the rubber-ducky moment,” a phrase that stemmed from the television specials of the 1950s where characters and their motivations could be easily explained. For example, a person’s rubber ducky was stolen as a child and that’s why they became a deranged killer. Lumet criticized this moment for being too simple and preposterous, as nobody’s personality and persona could come from just one experience. Scorsese and Schrader never simplify Travis as a character. Film essayist Matt Zoller Seitz (2016) noticed the initial complexity by writing: “There is nothing spontaneous or natural about this man. He’s deeply damaged, maybe by the war, maybe by his childhood; we don’t know exactly what his problem is, and ultimately it doesn’t matter.” We never truly know what Travis problems are, and we never know exactly what is going on inside his mind. Based on his monologues previously mentioned, we can only imagine what Travis sees and thinks about. Even if we don’t always know everything that’s happening internally, Scorsese does give us glimpses from time to time. The famous mirror scene is an example of Scorsese using his directorial toolkit to illustrate Travis, but not explain him. Using disjunctive editing, a radical departure from classic storytelling, and a technique reminiscent of the French New Wave, Scorsese breaks up the flow of the scene, separating the viewer from Travis. Travis practices confronting someone with a gun, pointing it at his reflection, and uttering incomplete sentences. In his article, "The Last Temptation of Travis Bickle," author Andre Caron (1997) described this technique as a “sudden distancing process in order to separate the viewer from Travis.” The only conversation Travis can hold throughout the film is with himself, and even that is just fragments of threats and taunts. With the cut-up editing, the viewer is disoriented and begins to mirror the paranoia that Travis has in his head. In the mob genre, there are no two more complicated characters than Vito and Michael Corleone. Before them, the genre was populated with more stereotypical and one-dimensional representations by the likes of James Cagney and Paul Muni. Vito Corleone was an immigrant of the United States looking to make a name for himself and secure a future for his family. He doesn’t see the mafia as a glorious lifestyle. He doesn’t want his youngest son, Michael, to be involved in the family business. Michael initially doesn’t play a part in the family and has no intention to do so. At the beginning of the film, he describes his father’s actions to his girlfriend as “that’s my family, Kay. It’s not me.” Throughout the film, Michael becomes more and more embroiled in his family affairs. After his father is gunned down in the street, he takes it upon himself to enact revenge on those responsible. The restaurant scene is the moment that marks Michael’s transition from innocent war-hero to mafia murderer. Michael meets with Sollozzo and McCluskey in a restaurant. Like Scorsese does in his mirror scene, Coppola uses character-driven editing to not explain Michael, but to give us bits and pieces of his thoughts. As the two men try to excuse their actions, Coppola cuts to a close-up of Michael as he stares at his opponents. He has a personal grievance with the men and a sense of duty to his family, but he still doesn’t know if should go through with the action. The sound of a corkscrew and wine bottle being opened add to the tension bubbling in Michael’s head. After some short conversation, Coppola recommits to the close-up of Michael, now slowly zooming in and overtaking the dialogue with the sound of an oncoming train. At this moment, Michael makes up his mind and commits to the deed, pulling out a gun and killing both men. With the power of sound effects, dialogue, and editing, Coppola doesn’t fall into the easy rubber-ducky trap, as he instead slowly exhibits Michael’s transition and demands the audience to feel the pathos behind his actions. Finally, both Taxi Driver and The Godfather feature moments of extreme on-screen violence, often committed by the main characters. They are both unflinching in execution and don’t shy away from the horrors. In Taxi Driver , Travis acquires his weapons through an illegal dealer. He buys more guns than a person could need, including many that are much more powerful than he requires. To him, the ends justify the means. Being a vigilante and having illegal access to firearms doesn’t mean anything if he has good intentions. While there can be an argument for that mode of thinking, Travis also doesn’t seem to care about the consequences of his actions, so long as they are deemed bad in his eyes. After a few outbursts here and there, the film culminates in a shootout at a brothel. Scorsese lingers on the scene with slow pans to show the aftermath but also uses quick edits when guns are being fired. The scene is brutal, with an extreme focus on the physical damage being done to bodies, and the mental damage being done to Iris, who witnesses the whole thing. Unexpectedly, the media portrays Travis as a hero who took matters into his own hands and saved a girl from prostitution. As the viewer, we know that Travis isn’t a prototypical hero and his actions aren’t ones to admire. This cycle of violence and interpretation goes back to the social messaging Scorsese and Schrader instill into the film. There is a disconnect between the true story and the one printed. Who is to blame for this disconnect, the readers of the paper, or the publications glorifying the disturbing act? The answer is both. The audience (the viewers included) crave violence with a morbid attraction. The media lives to meet that demand, writing stories depicting heroes and villains. Scorsese and Schrader emphasize that violence is inherently evil and that it doesn’t solve the worst problems in the world. No character’s situation is improved after the events in the film, as Travis feels empowered to commit more acts and Iris is forever scarred, both physically and mentally. The Godfather came a few years before Taxi Driver when auteurs were experimenting with the relationship both Hollywood and audiences had with violence. Bonnie and Clyde, The French Connection, and Straw Dogs broke into the mainstream, with their heavy use of screen violence being one of the central elements of their success. The violence within The Godfather does not sensationalize the crime lifestyle. Each death is stripped of stylization, often being shown in gruesome fashion. For example, the garrote scene has Luca Brasi’s eyes popping out of his head, and Sonny’s ambush leaves him in a bloody mess. Finally, the ending follows the massacre of several high-ranking mob bosses, including one being shot in the eye and another being gunned down in bed. None of this violence is played to be heroic or produce good consequences, similar to Taxi Driver and the films mentioned before. Taking a page out of their European contemporaries and defying the methods of their Hollywood elders, Francis Ford Coppola and Martin Scorsese became two of the most respected filmmakers of the New Hollywood movement. Because of their attitudes towards violence, character development, and social messaging, the pair revolutionized the role that a director played in the filmmaking process and the connection audiences had with cinema. More Reviews One Battle After Another September 24, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen A Christmas Party September 23, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Him September 18, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen Swiped September 19, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Hunter Friesen

The Pale Blue Eye December 22, 2022 By: Button Hunter Friesen There's no good way to say it, so I better avoid dancing around the subject and just come out with it: Christian Bale has not had a good year. Between the financial and critical disaster that was Amsterdam and the so-so quality of Thor: Love and Thunder , the payoffs have not matched the effort put in. To be fair, it’s not precisely Bale’s fault that those two movies did not meet expectations, as one actor can only do so much to affect the films they appear in. But I also can’t fully absolve him, or any other cast member within Amsterdam , of choosing to work with David O. Russell considering all that’s been revealed about him. So, in comes The Pale Blue Eye during the waning days of 2022, hoping to salvage what remains of the year through its murder mystery story. But unlike the other Netflix murder mystery of Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery , this case doesn’t contain a single smile, least of all a laugh. That is unless you’re the kind of sadistic person who thinks that people being murdered and having their hearts carved out is some kind of sick joke. The commanders at the United States Military Academy certainly don’t believe it to be a laughing matter that their cadets are being picked off one by one. The country is still in its infancy period at this moment in 1830, and appearances are vital to becoming a legitimate world power, so having your finest soldiers in perpetual fear of being horribly mutilated isn’t such a good scenario. Hired to solve this problem is Detective Augustus Landor (Bale), who’s been around the block more times than he can count. But the clues to this case don’t line up too well for an outsider like Landor, so he recruits a young cadet and future world-famous poet, Edgar Allan Poe (Harry Melling), to be his inside man. Writer/director Scott Cooper doesn’t waste any time plunging us into this cold and desolate environment. The opening shot of a hanged victim, with the thick fog shrouding him in mystery, is a primer for the savagery found within this time period and specific location. The sun never seems to shine during the winter months, with the only light being from the candles inside dingy taverns and cottages. The gothic exteriors of the military academy don’t present a very cozy feeling for its recruits, who are much more in line with posh gentlemen than stereotypical hardened marines. Poe seems to be the brightest of all his brothers, displaying genius levels of intellect through his frequent writing and readings of poetry. Melling overindulges on the character’s eccentricities, speaking in an accent similar to Benoit Blanc’s and with such rapid pace. Landor is the John Watson to Poe’s Sherlock Holmes, only this time the power dynamic has been reversed. Bale, who might as well be reprising his character from Cooper’s Hostiles based on his appearance and demeanor, displays a weariness within his character brought by his haunted past. It is a bit of a shame that some of the other members of this all-star cast, specifically Robert Duvall and Charlotte Gainsbourg, are wasted in nothing roles. Ranging from music dramas to mob biopics to westerns, Cooper has always been a chameleon director, molding his style to whatever the story requires. While he’s never done exemplary work, he does bring adequate professionalism, with some flashes of brilliance. The Pale Blue Eye unfortunately doesn’t contain any out-of-this-world moments as Cooper keeps the thread that ties all the clues together close to his chest, not revealing much until the final moments. But by that point, the answers come across a bit like cheating, as everything seems to be connected because of convenience rather than reality. But even with the central mystery within The Pale Blue Eye not entirely living up to the pedigree of its cast or the quality of its gothic production qualities, there are still enough intriguing elements within this world of the macabre. Chances are you’ll be surrounded by snow and frigid temperatures when this drops on Netflix, so you might as well settle in for a slow-burn mystery because I doubt the rest of the cinematic offerings in January will be much better. More Reviews One Battle After Another September 24, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen A Christmas Party September 23, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Him September 18, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen Swiped September 19, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Hunter Friesen

See How They Run September 19, 2022 By: Button Hunter Friesen “It’s a whodunnit. You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.” These are some of the last words used by victim Leo Kopernick (Adrien Brody) to describe Agatha Christie’s murder mystery, The Mousetrap . And after watching the film, See How They Run , I’d have to admit I share the same sentiment. Mine and Kopernick's feelings towards the genre seem to grow out of the common tiredness of it. Whether it be Rian Johnson’s riff on it with his Knives Out films (which I greatly enjoyed the newest edition at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival), or Kenneth Branagh’s classical revivals of Murder on the Orient Express and Death on the Nile (which I greatly despised), there seems to glut of whodunnits. And because I’ve seen one of them, I’ve essentially seen them all. And unfortunately for See How They Run , it has to take up the mantle as the runt of the litter, destined to be cast aside without anyone noticing, or caring. Before his demise (I’m not spoiling anything, they reveal his death ten seconds into the trailer), Kopernick was witness to the 100th performance of The Mousetrap , which is still playing today on London’s West End after nearly 28,000 performances. He’s been brought in to mount a film adaptation of the play. That is unless he can get along with his writer (David Oyelowo), who insists on “elevating” the material above its genre cliches, and his producer (Reece Shearsmith), who is more busy having an affair with his assistant than managing the talent. Once the deadly deed has been done, Scotland Yard’s own Inspector Stoppard (Sam Rockwell) is brought in to solve the case. He’s joined by the Constable Stalker (Saoirse Ronan), an eager rookie who’s a little too ready to nab her first killer. Writer Mark Chappell has assembled all the ingredients for a meta and wink-filled time as he stages a real murder mystery within a fictional version of a real murder mystery production. Anyone who’s seen their fill of community theater and Masterpiece productions will be able to pick on the jabs on well-worn genre tropes such as the butler playing a suspicious part and specific red herrings. And director Tom George, making his feature film debut after several years working on assorted series on the BBC, tries his best to keep things moving at a breezy pace with intricate cross-cutting and split screens. But even with all that's promised on the page and on the screen, there just always seems to be a disconnect that prevents it all from coming together. A joke may land with a thud, but it’s followed by a great cutaway. Or a joke may be a slam dunk, but then the scene plays a little too long and the air is sucked out of the room. There’s never really a moment where everything is flowing as harmoniously as it should. The one thing that consistently stays above water is the cast, even if they aren’t all served equally by Chappell (what’s Ruth Wilson doing in such a nothing role?). Rockwell makes a half-attempt at pulling off an Inspector Clouseau impersonation. It’s never fully explained why his character is so tired all the time, but Rockwell pulls it off well enough to just make it seem like it’s just part of his personality. And Saoirse Ronan is an absolute comedy delight in every moment she is given. Still, at only age 28, she could be in for an all-time career if she keeps up this pace. Although they share no living scenes together, a The Grand Budapest Hotel between her and Adrien Brody is a welcome one. While it may never be as funny or good as it wants to be, there are still a few glimmers of playful genius within See How They Run . It’s just a shame that Rian Johnson has fully harnessed that playfulness for his films, leaving not much room in the public’s collective memory for this so-so affair. More Reviews One Battle After Another September 24, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen A Christmas Party September 23, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Him September 18, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen Swiped September 19, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Hunter Friesen

The Power of the Dog November 29, 2021 By: Button Hunter Friesen Despite being the master of the gangster genre with such films as Taxi Driver, Raging Bull , and Goodfellas , Martin Scorsese cites The Age of Innocence as his most violent film. It’s a bizarre statement, considering the 1993 period piece features no sex, swearing, or physicality. Instead, the violence that the film harbors is purely emotional and under the surface, carrying far more damaging effects that linger longer than any external wound. Similarly, Jane Campion’s The Power of the Dog is one of the most violent films of the year - and of the Western genre - all without a gun, knife, or fistfight. The year is 1925. The Burbank brothers run one of the most successful ranches in Montana. Phil is handsome, calculating, and utterly brutal. He lives purely for the land, paying no mind to the feelings of those around him. George is pudgy and sensitive, and always on the receiving end of Phil’s torments. Together they represent Romulus and Remus, ruling over a vast empire that could topple at any moment. On one of their cattle drives, George becomes smitten by a widow, Rose. The couple swiftly marries and moves back to the mansion-sized ranch house. Disapproving of this union, Phil unleashes his cunning fury on Rose and her emasculated son, Peter. But there’s more to Peter than meets the eye, as his outward weakness may not be reflective of the inside. After some time, Phil begins to warm up to Peter and take him under his wing. Is this latest gesture a softening that leaves Phil exposed, or another one of his mind games that will delve further into menace? As a director, Campion has often been able to communicate the unsayable and unspeakable. Her films often resemble a poem more than a narrative. Based on her past features of The Piano and Sweetie , it can be said that she isn’t concerned with only opening one door, or telling her audience exactly how to feel. This ambiguity brings out the power of interpretation, leaving the viewer with the film in their mind long after the runtime has passed. The Power of the Dog doesn’t stray from that trademark as Campion tightly wounds this surprise psychosexual drama. There’s a cutting edge to each frame, epically lensed by Ari Wegner with the vast prairies of New Zealand standing in for Montana plains. A shot of a knotted rope, the castration of a bull, or the movement of a cigarette tell as much of the story as any piece of dialogue. Every act becomes a piece of symbolism, carrying an intentional ritualistic weight. With plucked strings, Radiohead frontman Jonny Greenwood (often a collaborating partner with Paul Thomas Anderson), squeezes those last drops of tension out of every scene. But when the dialogue takes precedent, Campion, adapting the words of Thomas Savage’s 1967 novel, makes sure it still stings. Phil uses his words to cut someone while they’re down, with a sharpness that cannot be matched. It doesn’t help that his cowhands, who worship his every move, sneer and snicker along. In the lead role of Phil, Cumberbatch reaches new heights in his career. The British thespian has built himself on playing the smartest man in the room, such as Sherlock Holmes on television, Alan Turing in The Imitation Game , and Doctor Strange in the ever-expanding Marvel Cinematic Universe. Here, that supreme intelligence brings its faults, such as emotional weakness and detachment. Branding Phil as carrying “toxic masculinity” would be too much of an oversimplification as Campion takes that weakness and spins it into something less one-dimensional. While Phil may hate himself on the inside, George is more outward with his self-loathing, which inevitably gets passed on to Rose, as she deals with despair by turning towards the bottle. The real-life couple of Jesse Plemons and Kirsten Dunst are great in their supporting roles, as they find solace in each other’s arms in the brief moments they have together. Acting as the yin to Phil’s yang (and also as the surprise actor showcase within the film) is Kodi Smit-McPhee as Rose’s son, Peter, whose external simplicity masks his internal strength and awareness. The battle between Phil and Peter is one of wits, with the outcome recontextualizing the film into something more than the sum of its parts. Jane Campion has made a grand return to feature films with The Power of the Dog . It’s an enigmatic modern take on the well-worn genre of the Western that leaves you with much more than you could ever bring in. Because of that, it’s one of the best films of the year, and should surely be checked out. More Reviews One Battle After Another September 24, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen A Christmas Party September 23, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Him September 18, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen Swiped September 19, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Hunter Friesen

Juror #2 November 6, 2024 By: Button Tyler Banark To the people at Warner Bros. who thought it was a good idea to give Juror #2 only a limited release: You should be fired! We'll probably never know the full extent of why the decision was made to play this film in only 50 theaters nationwide, with no plans for any subsequent rollouts. I'm one of the lucky few who live relatively close to a theater blessed with the film's presence, although my attendance is almost for naught considering WB is declining to report any box office numbers. All of this is to say that Juror #2 is an excellent courtroom drama that should be seen by everybody, whenever that'll be (a streaming release date has not been announced as of this review's publishing date). At the age of 94, Clint Eastwood proves that he can still get the job done as a director, even if this final outing could be considered a little too safe. The story follows Justin Kemp (Nicholas Hoult), an everyday man, who, like all of us, is reluctantly called upon for jury duty. It's supposed to be an open-and-shut case: A girl is killed by her seemingly abusive boyfriend after they have a fight at a bar. However, the more that time goes on and facts are presented, the more Justin begins to realize he might have played a crucial role in the murder. An ethical dilemma is put before him, with the penalty for telling the truth being that he endangers his future with his soon-to-be-born son, and the penalty for lying being that an innocent person will be convicted. This internal wrestling match is handled with care and complexity, allowing the audience to immerse themselves fully in Justin's struggle. Eastwood skillfully uses the courtroom as a pressure cooker, creating suspense and a palpable sense of urgency. Things gradually escalate as the film cuts back and forth between the trial and the night of the murder, mixing in eyewitness testimonies and Justin's memories. The blurred lines keep him in silence during the courtroom proceedings, but Hoult’s face captures the torment, similar to what Cillian Murphy did in Oppenheimer last year. While the ultra-limited rollout dampens its breakout potential, this film is Hoult's show and another notch in his current hot streak that includes the upcoming features of The Order and Nosferatu . To be fair, it's not like he was in a slump, as his previous significant roles over the last decade in Warm Bodies , the X-Men prequels, Mad Max: Fury Road , and The Menu are nothing to sneeze at. But this trio marks a reinvigoration of his career, bringing out his capabilities as an actor that we haven't fully seen before. Justin has a lot on the line, all with the threat that any expression he displays could be a hint of his hidden truth. Hoult delivers an outstandingly subtle performance, his brain being a thunderstorm that must be contained before it hurricanes into the trial. Several scenes are slightly protracted, which keeps the pace steady, but the overall proceedings feel a little easy. There's an effective exploration of the physical and emotional stakes that surround Justin's situation, with Eastwood and screenwriter Jonathan Abrams toying with the ideas of ambiguity and guilt. Even though we as the audience know more than most of the characters, there is still a little bit of a guessing game to be played, and a lot of thrill in seeing everyone else trying to connect the dots to varying degrees of success. Eastwood has been working for nearly 70 years, with a majority of them being behind the camera. The admirably no-nonsense craft at the heart of Juror #2 is emblematic of his status as one of Hollywood's most enduring figures. To see his (supposedly) final film, one that will skillfully loom with me into the future, swept under the rug by the studio that he's called home for decades is an embarrassing shame. I hope this review serves as the wake-up call that cleans up the stain that WB has placed upon this film. The evidence is all here, and the jury should find this movie not guilty of the drawbacks that have been placed on it. You can follow Tyler and hear more of his thoughts on Twitter , Instagram , and Letterboxd . More Reviews One Battle After Another September 24, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen A Christmas Party September 23, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Him September 18, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen Swiped September 19, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Hunter Friesen

Smile 2 October 16, 2024 By: Button Hunter Friesen It’s crazy that Smile 2 so casually assumes that you haven’t seen Smile , the $200 million smash hit and global marketing sensation. How else could one explain the gumption that writer/director Parker Finn has to repeat all of the beats to his previous film, even down to the exact same twists and explanations for what is going on? There could be a slight excuse if this was released several years later and given a semicolon title like Smile: Rebirth or Smile: A New Chapter . But no, this is literally Smile 2 and it’s only been two years (or one day for someone like me who watched the first film in preparation), so we’re all left to experience déjà vu. Finn is a talented craftsman, engineering some decent setpieces through brilliant camerawork and sound design. His use of creeping camera pans is commendable, stirring up the tension as he allows our minds to create temporarily unseen terror. The opening sequence exemplifies all of this, taking place almost immediately after the ending of the first film. Joel (Kyle Gallner) is afflicted with the curse that besieged Rose, needing to rid himself of it through either murder or suicide. He attempts one of those options in an extended long take that traverses in and out of a drug house, capping with the other option. Time goes by and the location changes, but the circumstances remain the same. Skye Riley (Naomi Scott) is your average pop star attempting to make a comeback world tour after a falling out through drugs and alcohol. She still has a drug dealer, but only for Vicodin to help with her back pain caused by a car accident that killed her then-boyfriend. What begins as a suspected bad drug trip turns into something much more sinister once the dealer sports an eerie smile and bashes his face in with a barbell plate. The chain of haunting ensues, ranging from terrible visions to… well, pretty much just visions. If you were to list all of the terrible things that happened to Skye in this film, the large majority of them didn’t actually happen. The stakes get increasingly lowered each time something gets interrupted by Skye jolting awake only to realize it was all just a dream. It’s no different than the age-old complaint of the Marvel movies undercutting every emotional moment with a joke. But even in those dreams, the scares aren’t conveyed as effectively as they were the first time. For as much as Finn knows how to set something up, he opts for the balloon-popping jumpscare nearly every time. If you listen for the silencing audio cue, you can guess when it’s going to come without fail. It takes a lot of skill to scare people, and a whole lot less to startle them. Finn has what it takes to truly scare you, and there were several moments here where I could almost taste it. There are inklings of other themes outside of the well-worn topic of trauma that the first film embraced so enthusiastically. The pressures of fame compress Skye at every moment, with hundreds of people depending on her at every moment. She never smiles outside of performing, hoping that faking it will eventually lead her to making it. The increased production budget, most likely supplied through the blatant product placement of Voss Water, allows for some of those intricately choreographed stage shows to highlight the physical and mental demands placed on those just looking to entertain us. Of course, if you want to see the total unraveling of a popstar due to the metaphysical darkness that lurks behind every corner, you’re better off with Vox Lux , which should be all the rage now with the director’s new film, The Brutalist , making waves on the festival circuit. Smile 2 saves its best idea and single shot for the absolute end, presenting a unique idea for what could be in store for Smile 3 . If only Finn had decided to expedite that process and save us the two tedious hours to get there. More Reviews One Battle After Another September 24, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen A Christmas Party September 23, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Him September 18, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen Swiped September 19, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Hunter Friesen

Magpie October 23, 2024 By: Button Hunter Friesen Magpie screened at the 2024 Twin Cities Film Fest. Shout! Studios will release it in theaters on October 25. Early on in Magpie , Annette (Daisy Ridley) feels trapped in her home in the English countryside. Her husband, Ben (Shazad Latif), is chaperoning their young actress daughter, Matilda, during a movie shoot. Playing Matilda’s on-screen mother is Alicia (Matilda Lutz), an actress who’s been involved in a number of tabloid sexcapades. Paparazzi snaps some photographs of her and Ben together on set, and Ben’s phone constantly buzzes from Alicia’s texts when he’s home. Annette stares at herself in the mirror, seeing nothing but a blank face. She presses her hands upon the glass, incrementally applying pressure until the whole thing shatters. The floor is a mess with shards, a few of them still stuck in her hands. But she doesn't seem to notice as the blood starts to drip. This scene is emblematic of director Sam Yates’ approach to the material. A veteran stage director, most notably for 2023’s Vanya starring Andrew Scott, Yates has dabbled a few times in film with some shorts and television. Magpie marks his feature directorial debut, and the results could be the start of a promising career. Nothing about his work is flashy (“flat” would be the derogatory term), but his approach to the material builds a tightly wound atmosphere. The gloominess of the setting, both literally and emotionally, is reflected in the cinematography. Distance and uncomfortable closeness are mixed for a revolving door of claustrophobia, with quite a few of those shots being reminiscent of the POV shots that Jonathan Demme made so famous in The Silence of the Lambs . It’s tough to distinguish between Clarice Starling and Hannibal Lecter in Annette and Ben’s relationship, an intentional blurring of the lines by screenwriter Tom Bateman. Similar to Yates, he’s making his feature screenwriting debut here, having previously appeared as an actor in Kenneth Branagh’s two initial Hercule Poirot films (he met Ridley on the set of Murder on the Orient Express ) and other British productions. The idea for this story came from Ridley herself, influenced by her experience as an on-screen mother in The Marsh King’s Daughter (at least something came out of that movie). Annette doesn’t want to jump to conclusions about Ben and Alicia’s relationship. And yet, it’s the only thing she can do as she sits at home looking after her newborn. There are hints of depression and manic behavior within her due to Ben’s past behavior. Bateman initially plants this as a potential conversation starter about the pressures of motherhood and burrowed trauma. That all gets morphed into something much more kitschy as time progresses, with late revelations making me laugh both with and at the movie. It wants to please you, even if that doesn’t please the movie as a whole. Ridley is fierce in the lead, maintaining a steely presence that keeps you on edge. There’s both sympathy and guilty pleasure you put upon her as she grapples with her domestic situation. Latif and Lutz display great confidence in their increasingly villainous roles. The whole thing feels like a throwback, while also having its cake and eating it too about so many modern topics. It’s a delectable cake, with just a bit too much sugar added. More Reviews One Battle After Another September 24, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen A Christmas Party September 23, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Him September 18, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen Swiped September 19, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Hunter Friesen

Tyler's Takes: 'The Polar Express' Should Be Live-Action December 14, 2024 By: Tyler Banark When The Polar Express debuted in 2004, it was hailed as a groundbreaking achievement in animation, employing motion capture technology to create a lifelike animated experience. However, despite all those technological advancements, the film faced criticism for its unusual visuals and lack of emotional resonance. While the animated approach was ambitious, a live-action version could have addressed the emotional disconnect of the animation, enhanced the film’s storytelling through authentic human performances, and created a more immersive holiday experience. Unfortunately, director Robert Zemeckis doubled down on this filmmaking tactic, employing it in his two following movies: 2007’s Beowulf and 2009’s A Christmas Carol . With this year marking the 20th anniversary of the movie’s release, here’s a look back on why a live-action version would’ve better suited it. One of the most significant criticisms of The Polar Express is its animation style. While innovative, the motion capture technology produced characters that many found unsettling due to the "uncanny valley" effect, the character’s lifelike movements juxtaposed with emotionless eyes and stiff expressions blurring the line between human resemblance and the emotional reaction to it. While many, including myself, find it disturbing to look at, it also confuses viewers. For the longest time, I couldn’t decide if this movie was live-action or wholly animated, with the eventual realization that it’s mostly animated with motion capture acting leaving me in a place of admiration for the accomplishment yet bewildered by the decision. The heartwarming story of The Polar Express —centered on belief, imagination, and the magic of Christmas—relies heavily on emotional engagement. In live action, real actors could convey the nuanced emotions of the characters more effectively. Because of the animation, it is hard to relate to Hero Boy’s (yes, that’s his credited name) arc if his physicality is barely emotive. The bond between the children on the train and the enigmatic conductor would be more poignant if portrayed by real actors. A live-action Tom Hanks playing the conductor could bring more charisma and gravitas to the role, making the character more engaging and memorable. Furthermore, the film’s climactic moments—such as the arrival at the North Pole and the protagonist’s realization of the magic of Christmas—would have felt more profound with live-action performances. The realism of live action allows for a greater suspension of disbelief because viewers can see tangible interactions between the characters and their environment. The fantastical settings of The Polar Express —from the mysterious train to the bustling North Pole—are undoubtedly imaginative. However, live-action with practical effects or seamless CGI could have achieved the same level of wonder without the drawbacks of the animation. Additionally, the North Pole’s grandeur could have been brought to life with detailed set designs and real-world textures, creating a sense of place that animation often struggles to achieve. Since 2004, Zemeckis has only gone back to animation twice and eventually found other technical filmmaking elements to tackle: 3D in 2015’s The Walk and stationary storytelling in this year’s Here . While The Polar Express remains a cherished holiday classic for many, its reliance on animation hindered its ability to fully capture its source material's emotional depth and immersive qualities. A live-action adaptation would have allowed the story’s themes to shine more brightly through authentic performances, relatable characters, and a realistic yet magical world. Coming from a director like Zemeckis, who has spent his career challenging the technicalities of filmmaking, The Polar Express is a misstep as he could’ve gone without diving into animation. You can follow Tyler and hear more of his thoughts on Twitter , Instagram , and Letterboxd . More Reviews One Battle After Another September 24, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen A Christmas Party September 23, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Him September 18, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen Swiped September 19, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Hunter Friesen

Cannes 2025 Recap May 27, 2025 By: Tyler Banark This year, I was honored to attend the 78th edition of the Cannes Film Festival. It was my first time attending the festival and being in Europe, and it truly was a wonderful experience. The sights, views, and movies were all something to behold and made me grateful that I could be in the presence of great people working in the industry. I saw eight films during the last three days, so here are my brief thoughts on everything I saw on the Croisette, in the order I watched them in. Sound of Falling One of the most hyped-up non-English-language movies of the festival, Mascha Schilinski’s Sound of Falling , will likely be on many people’s radar later this year. Unfortunately, I did not enjoy it as much as everyone else at the festival. It was boring, and I had no idea what it wanted to be. It does try to make a valid commentary on childhood trauma across different generations, but it gets convoluted in doing so. It also ended suddenly as I got into the moment and was eager to see where it would go. How this movie tied for the Jury Prize (third place) is beyond me. I would advise avoiding it. (2/5) The History of Sound The History of Sound sees Paul Mescal and Josh O’Connor, two actors at the top of their game, collide in a love story driven by folk music. The two are excellent, but the rest of Oliver Hermanus’ film is dull as it tries to mask itself with performances and enticing music moments.. There is a great movie somewhere underneath this movie’s surface, but whether that core can be reached is a stretch to see and may require a second viewing. For now, The History of Sound is a miss for Hermanus. (2.5/5) Eddington Eddington is a daring and complex film that challenges viewers to reflect on the societal divisions exacerbated by the pandemic. Its potent performances and atmospheric direction make it a standout entry in Aster's filmography, even if its political messaging occasionally lacks precision. It's the latest example of that and is a compelling film that provokes discussion and introspection about the pandemic, no matter how comforting or discomforting it may be. (4/5) Resurrection Bi Gan’s latest epic, Resurrection , is the big movie of the year that people will either love or not get. It’s best to go into it knowing little of the plot other than it falls into the genre of a love letter to cinema. Resurrection sees Gan passionate as ever, as it’s a visual feast. Bookended with a remarkable opening sequence and a final twenty minutes that will stun audiences, Gan should have audiences wrapped around his finger. (4/5) Sentimental Value Joachim Trier’s follow-up to his 2021 hit The Worst Person in the World sees him slowly reaching the Western Hemisphere. He’s back with Renate Reinsve and has Stellan Skarsgård on board. But in terms of Hollywood, he recruited American actors Elle Fanning and Cory Michael Smith in supporting roles. The actors make Sentimental Value what it is as we see a father look to reconnect with his adult daughter, but an American actress poses a threat. If Sentimental Value is looking to accomplish anything, it’s being a heavy awards season contender as the leading trio is all wonderful. If there are any flaws, it’s in the pacing, as it tends to drag for much of the movie’s runtime. Nevertheless, be on the lookout for this soon. (3.5/5) Die, My Love Lynne Ramsay’s long-awaited return to the silver screen is a bleak slice-of-life film starring Jennifer Lawrence and Robert Pattinson as a lowly couple living in the countryside of Montana. Lawrence performs daringly as she’s in a weird phase of looking to reinvent herself. As a fan of hers, I’m all for it, but I don’t know if others will see it that way. Don’t get me wrong, I want to see Lawrence back in the limelight, but I don't know if this will work for her due to the subject matter of the love. It’s a raw, physical performance, and she can do it. But when the rest of the movie isn’t as consistent as she is, where will the general viewers fall? (3/5) Honey Don't! The second film in Ethan Coen’s follow-up lesbian trilogy after last year’s Drive-Away Dolls , to Honey Don’t is another step down for his solo director career. While watching this film, I realized which past Coen brothers projects were helmed mainly by him and which were done by Joel. Margaret Qualley is looking to be his muse as she leads this queer crime comedy, and she owns the screen. She fits the mold of the Coen aesthetic, and is far from the most significant issue I had with Honey Don’t. The writing is the suspect here as Coen co-wrote this with his wife Tricia Cooke, and it leaves audiences unamused with lamely written characters. The only good thing to come out of the script is the humor. Still, even that didn’t do much to save. He wastes a stacked cast of Aubrey Plaza, Charlie Day, Chris Evans, and Talia Ryder with ho-hum character development, making the previously mentioned typecast. If there’s anything Ethan Coen should take away from Honey Don’t , it’s that he needs to reunite with Joel. (3/5) The Phoenician Scheme Wes Anderson's The Phoenician Scheme sees the director at a crossroads. His style is unique and can't be replicated, no matter how much people try. However, the relationship between Asteroid City and The French Dispatch has become stale in the past few years . Luckily, moviegoers and Wes heads can put this fear to rest as The Phoenician Scheme is a bold, genre-blending espionage comedy that both honors and subverts his signature style. For a while now, Anderson has been making the narrative approach of having a story within a story. And while it worked at first, it slowly got boring. Have no fear, as The Phoenician Scheme reverts to that and gives a direct plot that feels like a breath of fresh air for viewers like me. (4/5) More Reviews One Battle After Another September 24, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen A Christmas Party September 23, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Him September 18, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen Swiped September 19, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Hunter Friesen

The Witches October 29, 2020 By: Button Hunter Friesen I’ve always wondered what Robert Zemeckis thinks of his career. From 1984 to 2000, he was an A-level director who could seamlessly blend visual wizardry with fantastical stories. His output during that time consisted of the Back to the Future trilogy, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Forrest Gump (for which he won the Best Director Oscar), and Cast Away . Since then, Zemeckis has still incorporated fantastical ideas into his films, but his effects work has gotten progressively worse as time goes on. The Polar Express is only remembered for its acid-trip-inducing digital-capture performances. Beowulf , A Christmas Carol , and Welcome to Marwen were visual eye-sores. Even his adult-oriented films such as Flight and Allied - which are decent - came and went with barely a peep. Zemeckis has returned once again to the silver screen (or silver television since it’s being released on HBO Max) with The Witches , another movie filled to the brim with computer effects and a crazy story. Unfortunately, this new feature follows right in line with the latter of his filmography and again makes you wonder if we'll ever get the old Robert Zemeckis back. The Witches is narrated by Chris Rock, who in the opening segment explains to the audience that witches are real and are here to prey on little children, especially cute ones. This claim is supported by our narrator’s encounter with witches back in his childhood. From here we travel back in time to 1960s Alabama. Our narrator, named Charlie, has just become an orphan after a freak car accident. He moves in with his grandmother, a lady who would “ spank you when you deserved it and hug you when you needed it”. After some time, Charlie eventually comes face to face with a witch, which brings up memories from grandma’s past as well. As a precaution, the two of them head to a swanky resort to hide away for awhile. Unfortunately for them, this resort is the same location where a coven of witches are planning their nefarious scheme of turning every child into a mouse so that they can be easily squashed. It’s up to Charlie and his grandma to stop these witches before they cause the extinction of all children. Despite being in a slump for nearly two decades, Robert Zemeckis is still a capable director when it comes to blockbuster filmmaking. The Witches still showcases his talent with the camera as he uses a few tricks such as long tracking shots that dip and dive throughout the resort setting. It is kind of cheating since it’s obvious the camera and much of the set are digitally created, but it’s still nice to look at nonetheless. While the visual style of the film is in line with Dahl’s authorial vision, their quality is not up to the technological standards of 2020. With their razor-sharp teeth, hanging talons, and bald heads, the witches are pure nightmare fuel that will surely haunt small children (and adults) for days after. They may not look convincing, but they sure look frightening. Even though the witch effects kept things scary, the mouse effects did not hold up their end of the deal. The entire second half of the film is soiled because of the poor effects work on the rodents. Shockingly, mouse special effects have not progressed in the slightest since Stuart Little ( Ratatouille doesn’t count since that’s all digital). Filling in the role of the Grand High Witch is Anne Hathaway, who gives a no-holds-barred performance complete with heavy accent work and villainous speech patterns. She’s more cartoonish than most cartoons, which makes her the most memorable of the cast. Octavia Spencer as the grandmother and Stanley Tucci as the resort manager are much more subdued in their roles, which makes Hathaway stick out even more from the rest of the cast. The child actors that play both their human selves and voice their mouse counterparts rely too much on overacting to get the point across. Their performances can be both blamed on themselves and Zemeckis’ lackluster acting direction and screenplay, which was co-written by monster aficionado Guillermo del Toro of all people. Nearly all their dialogue is said in all caps with three exclamation points. The Witches may not live up to its print and celluloid predecessors, but it has just enough campiness and visual splendor that keeps it exciting from start to finish. It’s not a good film - or even one I wholly recommend - but it’s something that can be semi-enjoyed by the whole family during the waning days of spooky season. More Reviews One Battle After Another September 24, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen A Christmas Party September 23, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Him September 18, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen Swiped September 19, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Hunter Friesen

The Nun September 13, 2018 By: Button Hunter Friesen Over the last five years, the Conjuring Universe has taken the horror genre by storm. This has been made possible by having great directing and inventive scares that defy expectations. The Nun , the newest film in the series, has none (pun intended) of those quality traits. Instead, it ends up being one of the most generic and forgettable horror films in recent memory. Set in 1952 Romania, the body of a young nun is found outside a monastery. The nun committed suicide by hanging, but the purpose is unknown. The Vatican sends Father Burke and Sister Irene to investigate the nun’s death and find out if the monastery is still holy ground. Once there, Burke and Irene are met with many different types of supernatural evil, all of which spawn from a spirit that has been recently awoken. Marking only his second feature, director Corin Hardy fails miserably to make this film different than other supernatural horror films. He relies way too heavily on jump scares and doesn’t establish a creepy atmosphere. Despite having only a 96-minute runtime, The Nun is surprisingly boring. Hardy keeps the pace very slow and doesn’t allow for anything interesting to develop. Not much really happens until the very end when we get a quick final showdown that ends in the campiest way possible. Speaking of campiness, the film tries to interject the scares with a few slight one-liners. They make no sense in the context of the story and always fail miserably, invoking groans rather than laughter. One slight nod that can be given to Hardy is his average camerawork. Some of the overhead and pan shots are interesting to look at, but that’s about it. Written by Gary Dauberman with help from James Wan, The Nun could already take the cake for the worst writing of the year. The overall premise of the film is decent, but any resemblance to a story after that is downright terrible. Important elements have very little background and anything that happens is given no reasoning whatsoever. Each character is very dull. They have tragic generic backstories that try (and fail) to make us connect with them. They also make some of the dumbest decisions, such as splitting up multiple times and trying to fight a demon head-on. Similar to the directing, the writing fails to make the film scary in any way. Almost every “scare” is a jump scare that just startles you. After that, nothing really happens as the film cycles to the next jump scare. It’s very predictable and restricts any element of surprise. Completing the trifecta of horribleness is the acting. Demián Bichir plays Father Burke. Just like his character, Bichir is very bland and lacks any trace of personality. All he does is have a concerned look on his face and barely makes any meaningful interaction with the other characters. Taissa Farmiga, sister of franchise star Vera Farmiga, plays Sister Irene. Unfortunately, Taissa shares no quality acting traits with her superior sister. She constantly looks out of her element and isn’t able to be more than a one-note character. Last, and certainly least, is Jonas Bloquet as Frenchie, a local farmer who acts as a guide to Burke and Irene. Frenchie is the arrogant tough guy in every horror film that you just want to punch. He’s the source of all the painful one-liners and is just flat-out terrible to watch. The Nun is a boring and frightless mess that fails on all levels. By the time the credits roll, any audience member should feel insulted that they wasted both time and money on this pitiful excuse of a horror film. More Reviews One Battle After Another September 24, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen A Christmas Party September 23, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Him September 18, 2025 By: Hunter Friesen Swiped September 19, 2025 By: Tyler Banark Hunter Friesen