The Untouchables

More so than a movie, more so than a story, this flick is an entertainment. It can hardly be called flawless, but when you’re watching it you really couldn’t care less, because it is so engaging. Those flaws come largely—and somewhat ironically given the screenwriter’s reputation for a smartly crafted story—from David Mamet’s script, which indulges in a lot of bland exposition in its dialogue and plays fast and loose not only with the history, but also with just plain good storytelling. Despite his legendary arrogance about his craft, this work suggests Mamet doesn’t merit the rep. So if the storytelling is less than Grade A, why then does this movie work so well? Chalk it up to a host of likable characters, truly exceptional production design—everything looks fabulous, from the Armani clothes to the period cars to the detailed build of every inhabited space—and a plethora of fantastic scenes, including great, well-choreographed action sequences, impressive visuals (director Brian de Palma’s handiwork), and a whole catalog of memorable lines. Get enough of those goodies together and an audience will forgive a movie’s flaws. (One extra perspective added by re-watching this film in 2026: just how much Robert De Niro’s Al Capone stirs up echoes of a certain president.) I don’t know about untouchable, certainly not impeccable—but very, very watchable.

The Odyssey

It’s not the oldest story—as of this writing the Epic of Gilgamesh still holds that title—but Christopher Nolan’s retelling of the famous Greek epic poem seems to argue that Homer’s work may be the most significant. What is this ancient story about? Not a man, not a war, not a family, not a journey; according to this telling, the story is about everything. Nolan and company present a tale that is civilizational in scope, one that argues that Homer’s masterpiece is a song about all of those things and more, all the way to the very collapse of the world those people were living in. This may be a radical reinterpretation of the text—students reading the book in literature classes, at least back in my day, rarely heard such a theory—and it requires a substantial amount of revision to the tale and the presentation of some of these characters, but it is an idea that makes this movie a provocative and, in some instances, a profoundly emotional experience. Anne Hathaway stands as perhaps the most traditional depiction of a character here, showing a Penelope who is both clever and courageous but also deeply vulnerable. Tom Holland is similarly traditional as Telemachus, though perhaps a touch wiser and more agentic than you usually see in stagings. Other characters show a range of redevelopment, from a brutish but wise Meneleus (Jon Bernthal) to a vaguely sympathetic Circe to an Athena (Zendaya) who comes across like a girl who wandered into the movie from the local hangout. (Come on, dude—Athena was, among other things, a war goddess, not some wispy, weak twentysomething.) And then there is Matt Damon’s titular protagonist: a king and a general and a hero, but also a man broken by his recognition of the consequences of what he has done. It is an affecting performance, and it ultimately confronts the viewer with an emotional depth that matches the pain endured by Penelope. Put the personal struggles together with the global characteristics of the story—war and violence and greed and hatred, courage and cowardice, loyalty and treachery, tyranny and tragedy and love and death—and you can see the outlines of a world descending and being remade in real time (with clear parallels to an all-too-familiar scenario playing out in the world around the viewer). All of that speaks of the tremendous ambition that went into the creation of this film; the judgment here is that that ambition achieved most of its goals most of the way, with just touches of false steps just here and there. Like its story, the movie is long and takes you to many places, but it ultimately arrives at the desired destination: the victory that is great art and great storytelling, combined with cinematic techniques of the highest order. I sing, O Muse, of a work that should not be missed; don’t take ten years to watch this one.

Jason and the Argonauts

A re-viewing of a classic from childhood. There is so much about this movie that is thoroughly impressive. The film’s most famous elements, the Ray Harryhausen effects, are worth the effort to watch it alone. The script is remarkably faithful to the original Greek myth, unlike so many other adaptations that play fast and loose with a well-known story. Even the acting is quite good here, which is unusual for many of your b class mid-century swords and sandals epics. Special props go to Honor Blackman as Hera (you remember her as Goldfinger's Pussy Galore); she gives the story a lot of its vibrancy, especially early on. Todd Armstrong is convincing as well as Jason; you believe him as a guy who combines both brawn and brains and can pull off a dazzling feat or two. Mostly, though, the stars of this show are those effects: the skeleton soldiers, Talos the living statue, the Harpies and the Hydra. It’s one hell of a show, the sort of flick that could make a young boy understand just how awesome movies can be. This is no serious study of suburban angst, and thank goodness! It’s more like what cinema was made for: a great story told with fabulous visuals and exciting action. If you too are on a quest for a great treasure, this is where you’ll find it.

Hard Boiled

It had been forever since I first watched this movie, so most of it had long since been forgotten—and thus most of the film came across as fresh and surprising. Well, not the hospital sequence—that is simply unforgettable. What truly came as a surprise to me, upon re-viewing, was this movie’s inspirations and antecedents. I didn’t recognize it upon first viewing, but this flick actually comes across as an extended, Hong Kong flavored Miami Vice episode. It’s all there, pretty much from the first scene: the ‘80s music video styling, with plenty of quick cuts and rapid fire beats; the saxophone laden soundtrack; the mismatched partners, with Chow Yun-Fat and Tony Leung Chiu-wai as the Chinese Crockett and Tubbs: one plain and veteran and tough, the other fashionable and somewhat mysterious; and all the cop story cliches, including the rogue inspector, the angry, yelling supervisor, the thin line between the cops and crooks, and even the glamorous port city setting. It becomes clear watching this story how much John Woo, far from being an innovator, owes a great deal as a director to Michael Mann and countless MTV video directors. None of which is to say that this movie gets downgraded in any way—it remains a smashing good time as a viewing experience, with all the action one could want (or even stand), terrific performances by the leads bolstered by strong supporting work, and just enough pathos to make all that violence seem to have real importance. It’s still one of my favorite foreign language films—nothing hard about making that call.

  

Ice Road: Vengeance

That title? Kind of dumb. The rest of the movie? Well, I wouldn’t say it’s smart, per se. It’s formulaic, not especially creative, lacks any really memorable moments…but that doesn’t mean it’s bad. The movie certainly accomplishes what it sets out to do, which is put Liam Neeson in yet another in an endless series of situations that require action action action. Neeson can do this stuff in his geriatric sleep by now, so there’s no problem with that. What’s encouraging and a bit charming about this flick is that Liam here gets to share the load; there’s ass-kicking aplenty for the locals to enjoy as well as the star's usual share of the fun and games. As action pics go, the attitude towards the foreign types shown here is almost enlightened. That, plus the battles, plus a few hair-raising moments on those crazy Himalayan mountain roads, plus some truly gorgeous scenery (maybe real, maybe matte or CGI) all add up to a decent time at the direct to home viewing. (The internet claims that this is actually a sequel to another movie that apparently has nothing to do with this storyline. No wonder the full tableau seems a bit weird.) Now if only someone had come up with a title that made a lick of sense. 

Hero

China has always been a big country with a lot of people and resources. Why then has it not, until recently, been more dominant among the world’s nations? Well, if this movie is any indicator, it’s because every action there has to be so formal, so subject to rules and norms, so profoundly hierarchical, that to get anything done there has always required enormous effort and time and consideration. Watching this movie makes you feel that way, too. It takes a lot of effort to tease out the full arc of this story, which starts out straightforward and direct and shows signs of being entertaining and even clever…but that then descends into recursiveness, repetition and odd motivations. Some of the characters are assassins, then they don’t want to be. Some of them love each other, then they’re fighting each other. Some die, then they’re not dead. It also helps not that, due to frequent scenes where everyone is wearing the same outfit and has the same hairstyle, it can sometimes get difficult to tell characters apart. One character in particular, Broken Sword, flips his position back and forth so many times it’s hard to be sympathetic for him by the end. (He also seems to die in sword fights numerous times; better name for the character: Pin Cushion.) Beyond narrative unsteadiness, we also are subjected to numerous examples of the famous flying fighting that permeates these martial arts epics—which look just as silly here as they do in other entries in the genre. The style is reminiscent of fights in anime, which are also silly; one can accurately think of a film like this as live action anime. Perhaps the trope is no sillier than the magic depicted in western fantasy movies, but that does not necessarily recommend it, either. (Recall too the metaphysical expectations of the insurgents in the 1900 Boxer Rebellion for an example of how this form of fantasy meets with hard reality off the screen.) The movie does deserve props for its visual flair; many of the shots display an impressive artistic eye and interesting composition. Ultimately, though, the confusing nature of the story—muddled and tangled in motivations—drops the assessment of this flick down from solid action story to only modestly satisfying work. Also, one cannot pass this movie by without noting that the story’s clearest aspects show a deep sympathy with the idea of the unification of China by the first emperor over the liberty of the predecessor kingdoms—a theme that surely found approval with the leadership in Beijing. So, propaganda, even if a muddled sort of propaganda. I know fans of the genre love this kind of film, but for me, storming this castle just wasn’t that much fun. 

Terminator: Dark Fate

An early scene features a whole chase sequence through Mexico City destroying cars left and right...and not one vehicle’s horn was playing “La Cucaracha.” That’s just bad production values. So much for what this flick lacks. What it does bring to the screen includes most of this franchise’s typical palette: a familiar scenario, featuring familiar characters from past outings, the standard warnings about technology going mad and traitorous—it’s not like they’re wrong about that—and, of course, a planet-sized helping of violence and mayhem. It’s remarkable that the formula works as well as it does after all these years and episodes, especially considering some earlier missteps in the series. This is still perfectly decent sci-fi, competently executed and entertaining, if not exactly groundbreaking stuff. If it winds up being your fate to have a couple of empty hours to burn, it won’t be any kind of apocalyptic disaster if you spend them watching this movie. 

Predator: Badlands

We’ve come a long way since Ah-nold was rolling around in the mud in Central America. I confess that I am much out of date as far as this franchise is concerned. I didn’t even know going in that it had been folded into the ever-metastasizing Alien-Blade Runner universe. So there’s quite a bit here that was new to me. What is not new—indeed, it has become a reliably predictable trope—is the phenomenon of the monster from an original story sooner rather than later becoming the hero insubsequent iterations of the franchise. So we have it here. That plot trajectory makes this film a target for skepticism right from the start, and for sure, many of the movie’s early details lead the viewer to question the premise and execution of this work. You get a lot of stuff that follows the “wouldn’t it be cool if…” line of thinking—note to would-be filmmakers: generally, no, it wouldn’t—without much evidence that any real inspiration went into the production beyond that initial thought. What saves the proceedings from full-on ridiculousness is a certain level of cleverness in the action sequences, as well as some unexpected wry humor in the characters’ interactions. So while I can’t make the case that this movie is particularly great, I must somewhat grudgingly admit that it holds the attention and entertains throughout. Nothing here is groundbreaking—this is treading on ground that was thoroughly broken long ago—but you can watch it without feeling like you have wasted your time. It’s like you’re bringing home the measliest hunk of meat you could find, but nevertheless, it goes into the books as a successful hunt. 

One Battle After Another

Well, that’s an interesting concept for a movie: make a film about characters whom only a crazy person would find sympathetic. I guess this is what happens when you start from a position of making sure you have the correct politics, and then work on developing the story from there. That applies especially so when those correct politics echo the most deranged fever dreams of campus justice warriors. The result here is that the story’s villains are plainly villainous, but the putative heroes are simply bundles of uncontrolled animal urges who are not any more admirable than the other side. Other relatively minor issues grow out of a muddled timeline—the tale clearly has contemporary happenings on its mind, but includes a time shift that requires an origin point much further back in the day—and a central relationship that is preposterous on its face. So much for the problems. On the other hand, one must acknowledge that the plot has good pacing, the performances are solid all around, the script does not shy away from any particular difficulties, and—lastly but certainly not least—the core story in its human dimensions overcomes the film’s self-inflicted wounds to grow increasingly more compelling as the narrative moves forward. Also, the movie deserves credit for presenting a most compelling argument for the fact that security and liberty are diametrically opposed forces; increased emphasis on the former necessarily undermines the latter. That’s a political statement that is very much worth making these days, more so perhaps than the blanket canonization of one population cohort versus the demonization of another. So while this flick would hardly qualify as a Best Picture nominee (let alone winner) but for it tickling the strings of Hollywood’s preferred viewpoints, it must merit consideration as a good to maybe even excellent film—it’s just not an example of greatness. So don’t take that PURR as more than it really is. As usual, the real neverending battle is the fight to get people to stop overhyping whatever catches their momentary, acculturated but unrelated fancy. 

Nobody 2

See, these people understand one of life’s fundamental principles: violence is always the answer. Conflict inevitably follows one of two paths: resolution or escalation. And this story decidedly leans towards the latter. Bob Onenkirk’s Hutch is a man who simply can’t avoid escalation, even when he wants to, and that produces both some rumination on the nature of one’s being, and a metric ton of cinematic carnage of the mostly amusing type. The proceedings don’t start out particularly promising, but soon enough the mayhem starts, and it includes not just an orgy of entertaining terrible things—or, perhaps, terribly entertaining things—but also some laugh-out-loud visual humor. The family angle plays well enough, but it never gets in the way of Hutch throwing down in his creative and oddly indestructible way. Christopher Lloyd provides able if limited support as the grandfather who got this train rolling, Connie Nielsen starts out as a long-suffering wet blanket but eventually rallies to stand tall and enjoy some mayhem of her own, and Sharon Stone gives one of the most scenery-chewing performances ever committed to media (before the scenery gets blown up, that is). It’s not a great movie by any measure, but this flick does exceed expectations and entertain the audience, especially so for a sequel. And who can resist that? Well, you know… 

The Fantastic Four: First Steps

Maybe if this film had been made and released two decades ago, before the entirety of the superhero splurge, I might have watched it thinking, wow, they really made something amazing here. But we cannot undo these things we’ve done, as someone once said, and the effect of having seen superhero group after superhero group after superhero group save the world again and again and again cannot be easily nullified. As it is, no amount of interesting conceptual design, or nostalgic kicks, or even just plain, good storytelling and performances, can get this work to break through against all that has come before it and lead the viewer to anything more than mild appreciation, to a diminished admiration that battles against a flattened sense of what a movie like this is supposed to be. It’s fine, really; all of the above mentioned elements are well done, and if you’d never seen another entry in the genre you’d probably rave about this one. But few of us out here are infants without prior experience, so the impact of this iteration is very much dulled. More standard than fantastic. 

The Time Machine (2002)

This movie starts off highly unpromising. The immediate impression is one of TV movie production value, if not even lower depths of cheesiness. And the initial setup scenes—including a hastily arranged romantic subplot that ends with an inciting incident—have little in the way of entertainment value. But then, once the plot really kicks into gear, with Guy Pearce making ever further forays along the timeline, the whole story really starts to hum and grows quite engaging, if perhaps not truly engrossing. The future world is actually well conceived, with appropriately stepped up production values and effects to go with. I can’t speak to the physics of the thing—the story’s justifications may ultimately be full of holes—and there’s at least one piece of the future puzzle that comes across as unaddressed, at the very least, if not actually impossible, but as a light work of movie making, this one does its job to an adequate degree. And it clocks in at under two hours, so you won’t feel oppressed by the passage of time as you view. That makes it time mostly well spent. 

Mission: Impossible - The Final Reckoning

Sic transit gloria cinema. If this really is the end, that is. What was in many ways the most unlikely of top-level movie franchises—in story, in execution, in star power, in sheer quality of execution—has apparently reached its denouement with an outing that is, perhaps, not the best of the series, but one that is representative and certainly full of entertainment value. You don’t really need to fret too much about the story here; this installment is continuing a thread that has been building for around three episodes now (and arguably grew out of the details of the entire series, as the movie makes clear with numerous self-referential flashback montages)--and all that really takes a back seat to the typically audacious stunt sequences anywat. Tom Cruise is very much his usual self here: strong, on-point, and totally in control of his character and environment (and he is deserving of accolades for clearly being a driving force in making this franchise what it became, which is a film series that far exceeded any reasonable expectations). The supporting cast does good work, too, including fine goodbyes to stalwarts Ving Rhames and Simon Pegg in their definitive roles, as well as solid performances from the rest of the crew--including Pom Klementieff in a role where, oddly, she speaks only French but apparently understands English in amazing detail. But hey, we’re not here to quibble; this stuff is all about a fun times at the movies, and this flick mostly pays that off, without ever descending into self-destruction. That’s a good mission to complete successfully—and here’s the proof. 

Lara Croft: Tomb Raider

Late on a Saturday night. I was just looking for some mindless entertainment…and boy did I find it. I don’t know if this flick was meant to be in 3D, but Angelina Jolie’s character certainly was: 3D x 2, to be precise. Lara’s enhanced physique is so prevalent throughout the show that it is almost like a running—and occasionally bouncing and bobbing—joke, which is ironic since one of the key missing elements of this movie is actual humor, as in humor that is a) intentional and b) something you would actually laugh at. Further conceptual follies are found in the story’s half-assed attempts at being vaguely scientific, via some humbug about a planetary alignment, not to mention various other plot missteps. Even the raw action sequences come across as bland and not particularly inventive (a real black mark considering this film was made contemporaneously with the Matrix trilogy). If I had to point to some good aspects of this work, I suppose I could say that Jolie’s performance is decent, and she gets acceptable support from a pre-Bond Daniel Craig, plus the story does provide a bare minimum of entertainment despite its many flaws. Still, you can’t be too generous towards a dunce work like this one. Instead of pulling things out of a tomb, a better idea would probably be to bury this flick in one, and leave it there for a bad long time. 

Ballerina

If someone could be as inventive about solving the world’s problems as this movie is about killing people, we’d probably have a paradise in no time. There wasn’t nearly as much thought put into the movie’s plot; you just get a relatively thin story that serves as a skeleton upon which the movie’s meat is hung—that "meat" being extended and audacious fight sequences. Those are done with this franchise’s usual aplomb, and are enough to satisfy any moviegoer's thirst for mayhem. Ana de Armas already has the human pincushion thing down to a T (as in "trauma") here, displaying admirable survivability even in the face of some truly savage stuff. Indeed, that is the element that makes this feature very much a guilty pleasure; you only hope and pray that no one out there takes this exercise in bad behavior seriously, or indeed as a template for how to engage in such behavior IRL, as the texters say. This movie does stand as a model for how to artfully present action sequences (a hallmark of the franchise going back to the very first Wick flick). Indeed, the aforementioned Baba Yaga makes an appearance here, one that is actually surprisingly deep and lengthy for an off-the-main-storyline work. I don’t know if this qualifies as an actual good movie, but it does deserve props for mostly living up to expectations via its expertly choreographed carnage. Light as a feather, perhaps, but this one does move in an appealing way. Hard to ask for more than that. 

Jurassic World: Rebirth

Memo to all screenwriters: giving your script’s unfamiliar characters a set of background sob stories does not make them automatically sympathetic. That constitutes one of the large problems with this movie: you don’t really have much sympathy for the group of mercenaries who form the core of the cast, so whatever is going to happen to them comes across from the start as low-stakes. Things are mildly better with the vacationing family, who at least come across as relatively innocent and thus worthy of the viewer’s consideration. Perhaps the story should have opened with them, and then there would  have been a rooting interest from the first scenes. As it is, it’s only well into the action that you start to care about what happens to these people. (Except the sociopathic corporate type, who practically has “dino food” tattooed on his forehead.) The aforementioned “action” is the key element here; the action set pieces are the most effective elements throughout the film, more so than any individual plot point or character or even the creatures themselves. Whereas once upon a time the identifiable species were the real stars, this outing mostly features a bunch of weirdo hybrids that are scary, yeah, but have no real personality or charisma. (The best sequence in the whole flick may be the one that features the good old-fashioned T. rex.) Mix it all together and you wind up with a competent but not all that compelling franchise entry that mostly makes you wonder, “When is this thing going to go extinct?” So long as no one comes up with a better idea, the answer to that question should be "now"— but the real-world answer will be, alas, "not anytime soon" (if there's money to be made). 

Superman (2025)

Sometimes, it helps to be old. Just not this time. If you’ve been around a while, you’ve seen so many iterations of this character that you can’t expect anything particularly new in yet another outing for the Man of Steel. So going in, if you’re not a child, expectations for this flick are low. That actually works to this pic's advantage, as it means that, if nothing is really screwed up, the odds turn heavily in the movie’s favor. And that’s mostly how it works out here. There are enough fresh elements in this presentation—most notably, the expanded context of Supe's story, including some decent supporting work from some slightly off-brand heroes—that even the weariest viewer will get a few kicks out of these proceedings. The film does include a few missteps—today’s Lois is not quite all that, and there’s a notable bit of condescension in the depiction of the Kents as flyover yokels—but ultimately, the story gets back to the core of the title character’s appeal: his choice to be one of us, not one above us. That rap has played well for almost a century now and it never really gets old…even if those of us who have seen it all before keep putting on the years. Oh, yeah, and the dog is fun, too. 

Thunderbolts*

We’ve come a long way…um…babies? You have to be forgiven if, upon watching this installment of the MCU, you find yourself contemplating the Marvel movies of yesteryear and how invigorating they were, whereas this flick evokes, largely, little more than a “huh?” reaction. Oh, sure, there’s entertainment to be had here, including both a fair dose of humor and an appreciable overarching metaphor about overcoming abuse, in addition to the standard action tropes. But…the history does not disappear, and the influence of the past weighs heavily upon this “new” venture. The sense that this is little more than a photocopy of a degraded original—a vibe that is even acknowledged in the film itself, at least at the ending—is hard to get over. At least the cast of characters features a mostly likable group. Reservations aside, an honest assessment says that this movie is good enough to watch, and the studio seems determined to move forward with its plans, so maybe we can just keep an eye on things and see if something truly enjoyable develops down the line. Stranger things have happened, even within this very franchise. 

The Outlaw

What a weird movie. The film was directed by both Howard Hughes and Howard Hawkes, and it’s pretty apparent where the direction came from the amateur and where it came from the pro. Many scenes are oddly paced and strangely cut—editing may more accurately be called the issue, rather than directing—while the script sort of meanders through a story that has little real narrative and careens wildly between overly dramatic and jarringly comedic. In short, the piece is something of a mess. Yet, it is a relatively entertaining mess at that. Though the writing may be idiosyncratic in terms of narrative, there’s some good, snappy dialogue in many of the scenes. Meanwhile, the actors mostly acquit themselves well; Walter Huston in particular stands out, while Jane Russell lets it all hang out (metaphorically, of course; this was made in the 1940s, after all). As for historical veracity, your guess is as good as mine. Probably little to none, but that hardly detracts from the entertainment value. All in all, it’s not a great movie, but it isn’t a bad one, either. Nor is it really as scandalous as the reputation may have it. A curiosity, but hardly an outlaw production. 

Ghost in the Shell

Style and substance, yet ironically little soul. The warning about a cybernetic future is well taken, though at this point it feels both derivative and a bit too late. One can’t help but mentally compare this movie in real time to the Matrix films, with their similar themes and at least congruent visuals, but the more widely known—and successful—iteration of this vision injected touches of humor and humanity into the technological spectacle, whereas this work is largely grim and almost as mechanical as the very thing that it wants to warn us about. Even the opportunity to ogle Scarlett Johansson, in various painted-on get-ups, only provides a thin layer of extra entertainment to these proceedings. I guess cyber dystopias only have so much appeal. Who would have thought that (besides anyone with a soul)?