This page is about movies I've seen and thought were worth writing a little about, so expect it to update pretty rarely (not because I am a snob, just because I rarely get around to watching anything). Spoilers are revealed on click like this.
The Fly (dir. David Cronenberg, 1986)
This is, as you probably have heard, a great horror movie. There are basically three people in it and the rest is carried by truly stellar practical-effects work. Having finally watched this I'm struck by how sad it is in addition to being obviously gross; in the original movie the tone was a very straight "this would be crazy, huh?" and in this version the transformation is much easier to read as an allegory for illness or addiction (the early stages where Jeff Goldblum feels really good are almost as upsetting as the later body-horror sequences, and not just because the heavier and heavier makeup looks harder and harder to act through).
I think some of the later action (like when Brundlefly smashes through the hospital window, leaving a cartoon guy-shaped hole, then carries Geena Davis away like a Universal monster) leans a tad silly, but also taps into a sort of classic Frankenstein energy where your empathy for this increasingly alien creature is only deepened the worse he gets.
The Fly (dir. Kurt Neumann, 1958)
Well, first off, you just love to see Vincent Price in anything. Second, I can see what David Cronenberg liked about this movie—it's fairly corny and a little slow, but as a 50s B-movie it's totally proficient, and the ending is shockingly grim for something in this vein. The effects are pretty dated, but I genuinely really liked the laboratory set—they bent so much neon for this movie!—and while the bug-head-and-arm are not that crazy to look at the way they're revealed is pretty effective. Not bad!
The Burbs (dir. Joe Dante, 1989)
I'm becoming a big Joe Dante guy. Lately we've watched a lot of stuff that's packed with gags but doesn't have much of a plot. The Burbs is knocking out solid work on both sides. There are so many weird little jokes and great line deliveries in this, and I was very engaged by Tom Hanks' performance especially. They don't let him play crazy guys enough anymore. I guess my one complaint is that I wish it was left more open-ended whether everyone's paranoia is justified.
Scream (dir. Wes Craven, 1996)
This was a rewatch, but this time we saw it at the indie theater. Still whips. Watching Scream is like watching one of those magic tricks where the guy is explaining the magic trick to you while he's doing it, and it still pays off because he's so good that you don't believe it. There are so many great little payoffs that are improved if you understand the grammar of horror movies but still work if you don't. On this watch I noticed you can tell right away that the fakeout Billy kill scene is weird; he's facing away from camera and it looks way more amateur than the previous kills. It's so fun to let this be a hint to people who are paying attention to the craftsmanship that something is up.
Have parts of it aged? For sure, but only in ways that are kind of fun, e.g., how absolutely hideous all these expensive 90s homes look, or how the script demands people say "cellular telephone" in full. One of my top Halloween movies ever.
Rosemary's Baby (dir. Roman Polanski, 1968)
This is another classic one you really want to like, and it has some likable bits—I think the overall concept (that everyone close to you is on the verge of selling you out for their own gain) is frightening, and the long dissolves and dream sequences are cool. The first act where it's just a wacky movie about having an annoying neighbor is pretty charming. But overall it deflates into a frustrating watch. Mainly, there's no establishment that Rosemary's husband is a cool and nice guy to begin with, such that when he starts acting weird and evil it's not a shocking inversion so much as it feels like "okay I guess this guy is mean and shitty. Why is she married to him?". I guess in the 1960s a lot more people were afraid of vanilla witchcraft, but today the final scene where a bunch of old people are sitting around in wool suits talking up the devil feels incredibly corny, and an opportunity to have this woman snap from a year of mistreatment such that something can actually happen gets passed up—which, even if that's in service of a more conceptually-scary point about helplessness, is not very interesting to watch. Can't recommend.
Mars Attacks! (dir. Tim Burton, 1996)
There are some pretty good gags in the back half of this, when it's basically a Tim Burton Gremlins movie. Unfortunately the first half is very boring because we have to build up to the gags but there's no plot or characterization or anything else. You just kind of check in with various characters, watching an insanely stacked cast starved for any acting to do, and then it's over. Easily a four-or-five-star CGI demo reel—the effects are charming, if clunky—but not much of a movie, in the typical sense.
Slash/Back (dir. Nyla Innuksuk, 2022)
My two notes here are that the camerawork was a little static (is this a documentary crew, or is that just how I'm used to seeing Inuit people on screen?) and that I wish these teenage actors had more input over whether their dialogue sounds like a thing a teenager would say. But you can tell they're having fun anyway, the plot hits all the right beats at the right pace, and the SFX look decent for what I assume was not a lot of money (there's some great physical acting in the second half). If you haven't heard of this one, check it out.
They Live (dir. John Carpenter, 1988)
A rare airball from JC here. Even imagining watching this in a world where it's new and I haven't heard of it before, it spends so, so long making sure we all get it before moving on to the next scene. I get it! I'm not even that smart and I got it almost right away!
Would be a solid Twilight Zone episode if you cut out the cruft. Personally, I'd start by trimming the scene where Roddy Piper and Keith David punch each other in an alley from 35 minutes to like 5 minutes.
Monster Squad (dir. Fred Dekker, 1987)
This one stinks. Gets one star back because it doesn't waste a bunch of time explaining why the monsters are hanging out in one place, but I can't go any higher because it takes all that time and spends it doing some very nasty 1980s stuff. Also makes a bewildering allusion to the Holocaust in between scenes of Dracula running around throwing dynamite at people.
Scanners (dir. David Cronenberg, 1981)
Everything about this movie is great except for how jarring it is to cast a bunch of Real Actors who know how to act (they got Patrick McGoohan!) and then give the lead role to some guy you know who always talks like he woke up one second ago. Cheap but effectively put-together, and alternates between drawn-out scenes of one single thing happening and crazy peaks of a ton of stuff at once with a really engaging rhythm. Also gotta give it up for "Daryl Revok," one of the best David Cronenberg character names on the board. My obligatory mention of the guy's-head-exploding scene is that I did not realize it happens in the first ten minutes.
Killer Klowns from Outer Space (dir. Stephen Chiodo, 1988)
Got to see this one in a theater, which was fun. As a sendup of 50s B-movies it hits every note (the young cop / old cop dynamic feels like it's lifted right from THE BLOB). Knows exactly where to spend its money, which is on creature effects and gags; the last act when we descend into the clown spaceship is incredibly cheap-looking but in a way that by that point only charms you. My primary beef is that the main character sounds like John Mulaney's "drunk child" bit and could stand to have substantially less dialogue, but I did laugh out loud when the credits reveal that his name is "Mike Tobacco."
The Blob (dir. Irvin Yeaworth & Russell Doughten, 1958)
The Blob is obviously corny but a lot about it works, too—Steve McQueen is extremely charming, the effects are a lot of fun (so many reverse shots of the Blob consuming a tiny diorama of the current location), and altogether it's a fun watch. The ending is one of the funniest "we ran out of money" endings I've seen in any movie; I don't even want to spoil it here. Go check it out.
An American Werewolf in London (dir. John Landis, 1981)
This is foremost a Special Effects Movie, and of course all of that stuff is great (Rick Baker one of the greatest). The climactic transformation scene involves so many different lovingly-crafted SFX gags. There is also a coherent and enjoyable movie in here, and the two main guys are so lovable as friends. I don't think anyone should do this, but I think you could put up a serviceable remake of this one starring the guys from Nirvanna The Band The Show.
Weapons (dir. Zach Cregger, 2025)
Man, this one has a lot of potential in the first act and sort of lost me when they reveal what's actually going on, which turns out to be so much less interesting than I hoped. It feels like it had some weirder corners cut to try and head off the modern ambiguity-averse movie nerd.
Kind of tough to not draw a line between this plot, which pivots around a classroom, and the ongoing cultire-war tornado surrounding public schools. To the reactionary mind, the "LGBT Agenda" or whatever other bogeyman you're afraid of might as well be a literal evil witch stealing your child away from you or controlling the minds of your peers. The main credit I'll give Weapons is that it looks like it was fun as hell to be a kid in this movie, especially in the last sequence where they get to smash through like a dozen fake windows. That part is sick.
Young Frankenstein (dir. Mel Brooks, 1974)
Not every gag in this one hits but a lot of them do, mostly from Marty Feldman (Igor), who is just great. Drags on a few of its punchlines too long but the commitment to shooting and staging it the old-fashioned way is cute. Pretty good!
Teen Wolf (dir. Rod Daniel, 1985)
This movie is mostly very stupid but I do like the idea of a werewolf who is a normal guy and just stays home and relaxes when it's wolf night.
Halloween III: Season of the Witch (dir. Tommy Lee Wallace, 1982)
Kind of charming in its absurdity, which borders on the dream logic of a folktale. I don't understand why every woman in this guy's life can't resist fucking him even though he is demonstrably a schlub. Giving it some stars back for the solid effects work and visual direction; it's not the production staff's fault the idea is silly.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers (dir. Philip Kaufman, 1978)
This movie does not look like it cost a lot of money but it knows where to spend it (on weird slimy dummies of our actors and one very funny dog mask). I really liked it! Does a good job setting up each character and doesn't rush to the crazy part, which gives the few stunts they can pull off here a lot more impact. Obviously Donald Sutherland is praised for this one but Veronica Cartwright (Nancy) is really great.
I could spend some words wondering if this movie about the belief that everyone except yourself is a mindless duplicate being actually true is inherently reactionary, but that would be exhausting.
The Mist (dir. Frank Darabont, 2007)
I loved Darabont's Blob remake and I like Thomas Jane (watch The Expanse) so I figured this one would be a slam dunk. It is not like The Blob. Tough to pick a number of stars here, because I think the performances are great and the film itself is well-crafted. I'm also glad they did the responsible thing when adapting Stephen King and dropped the apparently extensive teenage sex scene. But this version is also exponentially more bleak over time to where it ends up fully over the swingset. I know the ending of this one is somewhat controversial, and my take is that I found it A Bit Much. Probably worth watching but did not suit the vibe of our mostly-fun pre-Halloween watchlist.
The Invisible Man (dir. James Whale, 1933)
Dracula kind of set me up to think the rest of the oldies would be stinkers. This one rocks. Obviously it all hinges on the special effects, and obviously the effects are not that tough to work out how they were done, but the charm level is off the charts. It's funny that the invisibility serum has the side effect of making you evil. It's really funny to have multiple scenes of random guys calling the police to suggest ways to catch the Invisible Man. It's great for the middle portion of the film to be a bunch of people getting invisibly pranked with rude voiceover. If you're gonna watch one movie from the 1930s this is the best one I've seen by far.
Death Becomes Her (dir. Robert Zemeckis, 1992)
To be real I did not really care for this movie's single gag that it does 100 times. Bruce Willis is not very believable as an old nerd but he's pretty good as a guy being hassled beyond sanity. The most enjoyable part of this one is probably the completely insane interior design (marble columns in a morgue!). Overall fine, I guess.
Dracula (dir. Tod Browning, 1931)
Man, you really wanna like this one due to its "classic" status, and I'm sorry to say it is a real snoozer. For all the cool castle sets and weird closeups there is also probably 30 to 40% of the runtime occupied by people just standing around in a room. You do perk up when Bela Lugosi is doing his vampire stuff, which is totally charming, and the eye-light thing they do to suggest his mesmerizing power is kind of fun, but otherwise not much to see here. Oh, I guess also the fake bat on a wire is cute.
Creature from the Black Lagoon (dir. Jack Arnold, 1954)
I would call this movie "efficient." It all works and it all makes sense and it's just kind of moving through the steps one at a time. They do a nice job of not showing you the entire Creature right away, because they knew it looked corny, but the underwater shots honestly look great. Worth seeing if you get the chance but I can't say I'd go out of my way to watch it again.
Also, not unlike War of the Worlds, this movie starts with a guy narrating about the formation of the Earth four billion years ago. Is that like, a standard device in 1950s movies? I would have to watch a lot of cowboy stuff to find out. Or actually I pulled up the Wikipedia list of movies from this year to try and find a funny one to reference here and I found out they made a Prince Valiant movie, so maybe I will actually watch that.
Heretic (dir. Scott Beck & Bryan Woods, 2024)
First off, get ready for a lot of Halloween stuff in a row on this page, because it's the only time of year when I am regularly watching movies.
This movie ended up being way more interesting than I expected from the premise (two Mormon girls knock on the door of a guy who turns out to be Weird), and it pretty much all rides on the three main performances. Hugh Grant is so good as a guy who's disarming in a scary way, and it kind of feels like how the Zucker brothers took Serious Actor Leslie Nielsen and made him do comedies, as in "this guy has an entire range that has gone unexplored until now." Even the middle act, where he is essentially delivering a TED talk on the history of religion for 20 minutes, has an unnerving edge that keeps you from falling asleep.
The girls' performances are also solid, although it's a shame the more likable one is killed first. There's a lot of empathy here for Mormons, and I would typically not buy it, but as this movie is an examination of the nature of belief (and maybe how examining what you know to be true for too long can drive you insane) the specific belief they represent is less important than it just being something you can frame up to tear down.
Very tight script here with very little chaff—everything is in motion the whole time, and every setup pays off by the end, including stuff I assumed was just a momentary punchline. (keep an eye out for Chekhov's Plank.) It even drops in a litte seed of ambiguity over whether the crazy guy is right in a tasteful way. And, speaking of taste, isn't too nasty or bloody on the whole, if that sweetens my recommendation.
The Phoenician Scheme (dir. Wes Anderson, 2025)
This sure is a Wes Anderson movie, which means it's a series of cute little dioramas strung together in sequence. I didn't dislike it but I find that sometimes the cute-little-diorama structure can get wearisome when there's nothing else to hang on to. The performances are all solid, especially Jeffrey Wright, who should get to be in more than ten minutes of the film for being so funny.
A general thumbs-up here, has some good gags and isn't technically lacking in any way, but I like it less than his stop-motion stuff.
The War of the Worlds (dir. Byron Haskin, 1953)
Now and then I throw on a very old movie thinking "this will be funny" and am struck by how genuinely I like it. The special effects are obviously the main sell here, and they have become kind of quaint but are also at times truly impressive. Anybody can throw a model plane at a tiny tree; these guys knocked down half of a full-size house. The lighting, which does so much of the lifting here, is gorgeous, and just drips off the screen in that weird Technicolor palette.
There are some pacing stumbles: the opening sequence where a guy describes all the planets to you contains some delightful matte paintings but is not relevant to anything else, and the stock-footage montages of like "people of every nationality are panicking about these aliens!" is terribly hokey today.
On the plot side there's also some goofy stuff that you have to just accept: how did the park rangers know the guys camping down by the lake were scientists, why did this librarian lady decide to go check out a dangerous meteor with a guy she just met except for there to be a lady in the movie past Act One. But plenty of stuff also pays off effectively! The scene where Dr. Forrester and Sylvia escape the knocked-down house is great.
The weakest effects are the clunky rotoscoping and opticals, and for most of the film they're used in tasteful moderation. They start to lose me a little when the alien guys are just hovering around blasting Xacto-cut heat rays for the last 20 minutes of the movie (you know, the sequence someone is always watching on TV in an '80s movie). But the scene before that of the scrabbling mob is unnervingly real by comparison, and makes way more of a "maybe we're the real monsters, under the thin film of society" than I expected. The ending being a little bit of a squeaker is more the source material's fault than anything else.
I'm gonna say check this one out—when it's not overly silly it's totally competent, and when it's not totally competent it's pretty charming.
O Brother, Where Art Thou? (dir. Ethan & Joel Coen, 2000)
The Odyssey is a funny story to retell in this way because we all read it in high school and kind of remember the beats of it, and then forget it's what this movie is until a one-eyed John Goodman is whacking our protagonists with a caveman club or three singing ladies are hanging out on some rocks. Lauren and I decided to watch this because we've been listening to the soundtrack a lot, and while that soundtrack outperforms this movie I think it's still a good time. I think it's fascinating how almost the entire movie is a one-two cycle of these three guys looking at something and then a stagelike flat shot of the thing happening to them, which does feel like the way those Greek epics have to wait for the gods (here, the law and the TVA) to spur on the next plot beat. Overall a fun watch and packed with great one-off deliveries ("Your foldin' money is blowin' away!") that I used to think were just things my dad said all the time for no reason.
I also kind of like the wrap-up theme of rural electrification and the spectre of "progress" being what incidentally frees these poor guys from a life of forced labor, while also ending their run from the law. It's the kind of optimistic idea that the New South didn't end up deserving, but is nice to imagine.
Boys Go To Jupiter (dir. Julian Glander, 2024)
I was really fortunate to score a ticket to the Pittsburgh premiere of this movie. I've been a fan of Julian Glander for a long time and I think his influence on my creative work is pretty obvious. This movie is visually delightful—it's bright, goofy, and a just rough enough around the edges to be super charming. A precision strike in the “well I could do that” zone that might get me to try out Blender after I 've avoided learning it for ten years.
It's also really funny and sweet. There's a little bit of that Hot Rod “here are some losers hanging out with nothing to do” energy, and some great gags that arise from it, but the main focus is on Billy 5000's overlapping conflicts: making money vs. spending time with friends, acting grown-up vs. fitting in, accepting a cash settlement from the CEO of a juice company vs. protecting a mysterious round creature he found. The underlying theme of all these is the overhwelming banality of modernity: phone mazes, customer support, food delivery, corporate security. Unaccountable systems made of people beholden to arbitrary rules have diffused across the entire adult world. How does that change its appeal to somebody on the cusp of joining it?
I also have to mention that the cast is stacked. Chris Fleming is so good Julian recut his one scene to let him riff longer. Joe Pera makes a cameo basically just doing Joe Pera stuff and it matches the tone perfectly. I do not know when this movie will be available online but check it out when it is.
Dune: Parts I & II (dir. Denis Villeneuve, 2021 + 2024)
I caught the first DUNE movie in the theater a couple of years ago. While I'm more or less satisfied with which parts they filmed and which they skipped—because there is a huge amount of movie-poison in there about, like, imperial tax policy—I found it a little bland. DUNE, as a fictional work, is a unique peak on the plot of "widely known" and "extremely weird" that I think it's a whiff creatively not to take advantage of. DUNE is obviously a psychedelic text (in that it asks whether someone can get so monumentally high that they become Christ), but it's deeply and indelibly "of its time" in other ways, too—the pretty unsubtle Catholic stuff, the whole "slow blade" thing, et cetera. So for the last couple of years my take was "Denis did a good job with the structure but seems afraid to make it look as joyously bizarre as I think it should." It feels like a missed opportunity to adapt a work so steeped in medieval feudalism, far-future speculation, and the occult—a work that honestly straddles the fence between science fiction and fantasy—and streamline it to this extent. When Zendaya showed up to the Part 2 premiere wearing that Hajime Sorayama-ass chrome armor? That's how I think the movie should look.
When I rewatched Part One at home with my partner in preparation for Part Two this was still basically my impression. Some parts shine through the constraint of the 2020s gunmetal-and-fog sci-fi aesthetic (which, to be fair, Villeneuve is largely responsible for revving up) but there's as many bunts as there are hits. The fields of bluey-pale Harkonnen troops doing their weird blood ritual? Sick. The nasty spider guy we get to see for like two seconds? Sick. I got the impression that there was a desire on the creative side for more stuff like this and a boundary on the financial side keeping it to this limit.
Fortunately, Part One was a broad enough success to sway the bean-counters, because Part Two is roughly a hundred times more interesting to look at. With the heavy lifting of explaining what the hell is going on out of the way, there's plenty of screen space to devote to saluting H.R. Giger and rotating a CGI fetus and riding a giant worm (a scene which apparently took months to shoot practically and I'd say is worth it). Dune: Part Two in IMAX might be the most buckwild moviewatching experience of my life. The middle act of the movie being shot in infrared because even the sun on Geidi Prime is fucked-up and evil is a tremendous choice, and I have to give special mention to the weird ink-blot fireworks constantly going off as well.
The casting is great. Picking up Austin Butler fresh off playing Elvis and giving him the role of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, The Universe's Wormiest Pervert, is extremely funny, and yet somehow he completely crushes it. Christopher Walken as the Emperor has like eight lines in the whole flick but is a joy just to see show up. Javier Bardem is acting his fucking ass off (I mean this in a good way. I can never tell if people mean that in a good way) the entire time.
Does Part Two have some flaws? Yeah, I guess. I think Chalamet is a totally serviceable Paul Atreides—his uncertainty might even make him more interesting than Paul is on the page—but I wish the characters around him (Jessica, Gurney, Thufir) who clearly care about and like Paul in the novel were filmed that way a little more. For the most part it's a relief to gloss over a lot of the higher political Great Houses stuff, but I did find it weird that the anti-nuclear-arms pact wasn't mentioned at all and didn't play into Paul's hesitance to deploy the family atomics, a moment which in the book is a nice rubicon leading into the final act that proves his commitment to going through with the plan.
Overall I think both parts are entirely worth watching, but I would put the second one well above the first. I also very much hope that the continued fiscal success of these films loosens the reins on portraying the borderline-unfilmable stuff in Messiah and onward, and maybe serves to kindle a new wave of interesting scifi all around.
Avatar: The Way of Water (dir. James Cameron, 2022)
The Avatar movies have been really fascinating as a cultural phenomenon. In 2009 when the first one came out I remember headlines about how people got addicted to watching it because they were so sad their real lives outside the theater didn't look and feel like Pandora (Pandora is the fictional moon where the Avatar movies take place). The tone of these shock pieces was two-pronged: they probably illustrate better than most reporting of the period just how beaten-down Americans were and would stay following the 2008 financial crisis, and also they seemed to suggest that James Cameron had created a movie so detailed and captivating in its production that it improved on reality and made reality look like a big pile of shit by comparison.
I did not watch Avatar 2 in IMAX the way many people recommended. This is partly because I heard that some indigenous groups took issue with having their culture sloppily coopted by imaginary blue aliens and were asking people not to pay money to see it—a completely valid argument that I both support, and, having seen the film, fully understand—and partially because my friend told me it gave them the worst headache of their life. Instead of paying through the nose for the premium theater experience, I simulated IMAX at home by watching a 38-gigabyte 4K copy of this film on my big desk monitor while leaning in really close. Also I was pretty stoned.
As an expression of James Cameron's creative vision, The Way of Water is even more focused on the world of the Na'vi and their crazy-ass ecosystem than the first Avatar. It's very funny that Miles Quaritch and his henchmen are now also blue aliens, such that normal human people (excluding Spider, I guess) are fully absent from the important scenes and are pretty scarce overall. I'd bet Avatar 2 spends a smaller portion of its runtime with human people on screen than any "live-action" movie ever relased. And to be clear I think that's sick. Avatar 2 is a stunningly detailed and immersive computer-animated film where sometimes a normal guy is greenscreened in for a minute before getting impaled by a spear. I spent a lot of my watch thinking about how sick it would be to use some of this alien-ecosystem-rendering technology remaking Solaris (I know they did this in 2002 but that one looks bad).
My main takeaway in terms of characters and plot is that Quaritch is one of the most unfiltered, undiluted Evil Guys ever written. He's the Everclear of being evil. The scene leading up to the big confrontation where he says completely deadpan to the protagonist, but might as well be saying into the camera, "I Will Not Hesitate To Combo-Kill Your Three Children. I Hate This Planet And Its Blue Inhabitants So Much" is comically over the top. Compare him with one of the secondary villains—the Australian whale-hunter guy, or Jemaine Clement doing an American accent even though he works for an Australian guy: Evil, for sure, but in a more schlubby doing-my-job way that I found more interesting. Is Quaritch being such a cartoon evidence of a creative drought on the movie's part, or just the necessary level of exaggeration required to make sure people don't side with The Troops here? I don't know.
The plot of Avatar 2 feels like sort of an afterthought, but by this movie's curve it's not a bad script or a weak idea. It's just so overshadowed by the visual craft that I simply can't care about Sully's alien kids and their relationship with a traumatized whale nearly as much as I care about seeing said whale absolutely wreck a bunch of space-boats and cut the Australian guy's arm off by whipping him with a cable. It's not a dumb action movie: it's a fairly smart and well-planned movie where the action just happens to be so sick that it drowns out the emotional and character stuff. Nearly the last hour of this film is nonstop flipping around shooting arrows and bullets and fighting. It rocks. Again, I took half a weed gummy worm so by this point I was pretty high.
It's not without problems, mainly the appropriation of indigenous culture (the reef-dwelling Na'vi who practice the titular Way of Water have Maori-style tattoos and wrap food in banana leaves, or I guess what we are to believe is a banana-like leaf native to Pandora). This is both uncool and also weirdly immersion-breaking to see in this Roger Dean-esque imaginary world which otherwise feels very original. I would have thought up a different way to show that these people live on islands, personally. There's a plot point about Jake's daughter (sorry man I can not remember the name of a single Na'vi) thinking that she has some Alia Atreides-style spiritual power related to the big tree but which might be epilepsy that I suppose is a setup for a big reveal in 2035's Avatar 3 but feels like sort of a loose end here.
Finally, this movie is long as hell. Minus credits it's like three hours flat. I was never bored but I think that's just a lot of movie. Overall I'd say Avatar: The Way of Water is worth viewing for the effects and also has a story under the effects that is totally serviceable.
The Creator (dir. Gareth Edwards, 2023)
I liked this movie a lot. It's cool to see an original science fiction concept get a decent budget and some good talent together and turn into a well-made and cool-looking movie. The main sell for me was the visual direction. I think that in 20 to 30 years this movie will be considered the key example of the circa-2020 brutal-futurist aesthetic that spent the late 2010s taking over ArtStation: massive structures in weird shapes, realistically-weathered bright paint, cop robots with weird heads. Even if this look is starting to get slightly played-out I think it's a cool vibe that was worth doing a movie with. The robots look great, the environments look great, the prop direction is excellent, and even the title cards are sick.
When the trailer came out for this I remember saying "Worst-case scenario it'll be like Oblivion," which is to say a weakly-written but cool-to-look-at movie, which is still pretty enjoyable to me. But! I am pleased to report that this movie also has a totally solid script and a lot of good performances. The little kid is great, which you rarely see in a movie. John David Washington is really good at playing a run-down tough guy in a way that's more relatable than goofy.
Now I'm gonna spoil the plot a little bit, so skip the rest of this if you want to watch this movie fresh (which I think you should):
It's kind of wild (good) how overtly anti-American and anti-military this movie is—not even in a Starship Troopers way where an extremely dumb guy might take it at face value. It's ostensibly about a war America is fighting against A.I., but the obvious villains are the protagonist's superiors and former comrades. The subtlety comes off insanely fast—there is literally a scene like 25 minutes in where one of the American troops the plot is following threatens to shoot a child's dog. The main character's arc is finding out that his commanders lied about his wife being killed to keep him in line and eventually sympathizing with the robots. A major confrontation in the second act involves the US Army leveling a village with a 300-foot-wide tank and multiple extremely expensive-looking robot bombs whose entire job is to run in a straight line and then explode. The triumphant climax of the film is a montage of crowds of people across southeast and central Asia cheering as the exploded wreckage of the NOMAD orbital missile platform—the literal manifestation of America's military global hegemony—crashes to Earth.
My single complaint is that I should have watched this as soon as it came out when the term "A.I." was slightly less devoid of all meaning, because the line "Launch on all A.I. bases" made me laugh. Otherwise this movie rocks.
© 2025 Jack Grimes. Made by human labor.