"Everything is as it should be."

                                                                                  - Benjamin Purcell Morris

 

 

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Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere - A Review: Born to Run in Place

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 2.5 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. This bio-pic starts strong but finishes much too weakly to be a worthwhile venture. It could have, and should have, been significantly better.

Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere, written and directed by Scott Cooper, is a bio-pic of sorts that chronicles both Bruce Springsteen’s struggle to make his critically-acclaimed 1982 album Nebraska and his battle with depression.

The film, which stars Jeremy Allen White as Springsteen, hit theatres on October 24, 2025 and is now available to stream on Hulu…which is where I watched it.

When I was growing up my first real introduction to Bruce Springsteen was his massively popular 1984 album Born in the USA. I was not fan of that song in particular, and the album in general…so much so that I wrote off Springsteen altogether. He seemed terribly uncool (something that was important to me as a young teen) and the jingoism of Born in the USA was repulsive to me on its face.

Then about a decade later a buddy of mine had an extra ticket to a Springsteen concert and gave it to me for free…and who am I to turn down a free concert ticket…so I went.

The concert was Springsteen without the E Street band and was part of the tour promoting his solo albums Human Touch and Lucky Town – two albums I didn’t think much of if I ever thought of them at all. Our seats were elevated and essentially behind the stage…which didn’t seem ideal….then Springsteen hit the stage.

It is a testament to Springsteen’s talent and skill that he turned a malevolent anti-fan like me into a big fan over the course of one concert. I understood by the end of that night what all the fuss was about regarding Springsteen…and why he was called The Boss.

Since then, I have essentially gone back and experienced his early albums for the first time, and even saw Born in the USA from a different perspective and liked it. It also helped hearing the stripped-down acoustic version of the song which is deliciously caustic in regards to its intentions.

After having spent the last three decades appreciating and absorbing The Boss’ work, I have come to the conclusion that he is one of the most essential American singer-songwriters of his era and maybe of any era.

Which brings us to Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere.

This film is a bit of an odd duck, as the first half of it is as ambitious and audacious as any music bio-pic you’ll find, but the second half of it is so painfully trite and pedestrian it feels like an after-school special.

Let’s start with the good. The film’s first half deals with Springsteen fighting to keep his artistic integrity amidst pressure from his record label and struggling to make a stripped down, dark album that satiates his artistic urges.

Watching a film attempt to dramatize an iconic artists’ life by getting into his actual creative process and seeing what inspired him and propelled his work, is something that doesn’t fit nicely into the music bio-pic formula…and that’s what makes this choice so bold and brazen.

This is easily the best part of the film, as we see Springsteen research a murder in Nebraska that piques his interest and sparks his imagination and artistry. This is the less glamourous part of The Boss being The Boss. No fanfare, no nonsense, just him, his guitar, paper, pencil and long hours.

The album he eventually records at home on a four-track becomes his iconic work Nebraska…but he has to get the record label on board first, and maybe re-record in the studio…and this is when the film shifts.

The second half of the film is not about creation or artistry, it is about Springsteen dealing with his family, his fame, and his depression…all standard fare for a music bio-pic….and none of it is very compelling.

The decision to all of a sudden make the movie about Bruce’s struggle with depression is a bizarre creative choice as it scuttles any momentum and it feels entirely unearned. Also unearned is a romance with a local Jersey girl that feels random and lifeless.

The ending of the film has a written epilogue that is reminiscent of an after-school special where the viewer is informed that everything worked out for Bruce as he becomes a massive superstar and he essentially overcomes his depression with help from professionals. Yikes.

That epilogue reminded me of the textual epilogue at the end of Clint Eastwood’s 1988 film Bird – a biopic about jazz legend Charlie Parker that features a brilliant performance from Forest Whitaker. Bird is overall a pretty bad movie, and that is only accentuated by the epilogue which – in true Regan era sloganeering form, tells us that unlike the drug-addled Charlie Parker who died at 34, supporting-character “Red Rodney is actively performing today, providing an example of musical excellence and a drug-free life.” Thanks, Nancy Reagan.

Deliver Me from Nowhere didn’t need its textual epilogue…at all. It should have just let sleeping dogs lie but it couldn’t, probably because Bruce Springsteen had control of what could, and couldn’t be in the movie. That is unfortunate because when it happens the much-needed hard edges of drama and artistry get softened and rounded.

Jeremy Allen White does a decent enough job as Springsteen throughout. He is hamstrung by the script which in the second half is a bit too melo-dramatic than it should be.

I’ve not watched White’s popular series The Bear, but I can see why he is as popular as he is because he has a screen presence that is appealing and a certain magnetism that serves him well. I thought overall his work as Springsteen was not spectacular but, ironically, workman like.

Jeremy Strong plays Springsteen’s manager Jon Landau – who is a legend in the music industry. Strong is a very good actor, but he isn’t given much to do in this role. He, like White…is just fine in the role but not great.

The biggest takeaway I had from the performances of both White and Strong was that this movie had the opportunity to be great…but it never coalesced into what it could have, and maybe should have, been.

A lot of the blame for the film’s failing lies with writer/director Scott Cooper. Cooper has had a strange career. His first film was Crazy Heart (2009), which won Jeff Bridges his best Actor Oscar. Pretty impressive. His next film was Out of the Furnace (2013) – which despite a stacked cast bombed at the box office and was critically forgotten.

In 2015 Cooper delivered the film Black Mass, about the life and times of Whitey Bulger, and while I like that film, it underperformed and underwhelmed. Since then, he’s made Hostiles (2017), Antlers (2021) and The Pale Blue Eye (2022), none of which made much of a dent in the culture despite their top-notch casts.

Cooper’s biggest issue with Deliver Me from Nowhere is that he doesn’t commit to the arthouse version of the film where it is just about Springsteen trying to write and record Nebraska. Trying to round out that story with flaccid familial drama and cookie-cutter mental health stuff feels like an attempt to make the movie more commercially viable…which ironically is what I think made it less commercially viable.

Speaking of which, Deliver Me from Nowhere did not do well at the box office, making $45 million on a $55 million budget. It also did not receive any award nominations or critical praise…which pretty much is in line with what happened to the rest of Scott Cooper’s filmography.

Ultimately, Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere is a harmless and pretty forgettable movie which has moments of artistic insight that if further pursued could have led to brilliance….but t’was not to be.

I’d also like to say one thing about Springsteen himself. I think you’d be much better served going back and listening to his entire discography, including the outtakes and live material, than watching this movie. I also think you’d be better served watching his Broadway one man show, Springsteen on Broadway, on Netflix, and reading his autobiography Born to Run…both of which are excellent.

One final matter regarding the The Boss that I feel needs be said, and it’s this. Bruce Springsteen is an icon and avatar for the working class in this country, the white working class in particular…despite by his own admission, having never had a real job in his entire life.

What bothers me about Springsteen nowadays is that he has more money than he’ll ever know what to do with….and his kids, his grandkids, and all the way to his great-great-great grandkids, will never have to work a day in their lives if they don’t want to. And yet…Springsteen charges the most exorbitant and outrageous prices for his concert tickets…essentially forcing his hard-working fans to either shell out a huge chunk of their savings/credit or miss out on seeing their blue-collar savior.

This bothers me no end. It bothers me because I want to believe that Bruce Springsteen is the real deal…that he gets it and gets working class people and understands the struggle. But then he gets greedy, and reveals himself to be just another pompous, self-serving, boomer shit-lib prick who is only playing the working-class thing as a shtick to separate fools from their money – (consider me among the fools).

I feel the same about another band of greedy boomer shit-libs, U2, who have forever and ever been preaching about their political and spiritual righteousness in one form or another, and lots of people…like me for instance…have fallen for it. U2 are calculated con-men playing the role of concerned citizens. They don’t believe in anything but their own fame and fortune. This is why they spoke out about South African apartheid in the 1980s, but refused to pick sides in the struggle in Northern Ireland (only waving a white flag)…because one of the sides in that struggle was the largest market they needed to break in to…England. They couldn’t make a moral and ethical stand over civil rights for Catholics in Northern Ireland because that would alienate the audience they needed...but it cost U2 nothing to make a stand regarding South Africa. This is also why U2 refused to speak out against apartheid Israel and its ethnic cleansing of Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank…they wouldn’t dare stand up to the powerful Zionist moneyed interests in Israel and the U.S. Nevermind the bands use of tax havens while demanding working Americans and the Irish pay for their foreign policy moral preening projects.

Now that the scales have fallen from my eyes, I see U2 and Bono and The Boss not just as bullshit artists but genuinely malignant and nefarious actors in the public sphere. That’s not to say that their music sucks and to discard all of the things they’ve created…it’s just to say that it’s difficult to take what they say – be it in the world or in their music, at face value once you’ve seen who they really are behind the mask.

The truth is that this entire topic is worthy of a much deeper conversation, but that conversation is for another day, but I thought I’d just throw these thoughts out there as a little appetizer.

As for Springsteen: Deliver me from Nowhere…if you are a Springsteen fan you will probably watch it regardless of what I say, and you’ll probably be a bit underwhelmed by it just like me. If you’re not a Springsteen fan, the reality is that you really have no need to watch this movie at all.

©2026

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota: Episode 148 - Bugonia

On this barn-burner of an episode, Barry and I shave our heads and castrate ourselves as we fight over Yorgos Lanthimos' Academy Award nominated film Bugonia, starring Emma Stone. Topics discussed include the positives and negatives of Lanthimos' particular taste and style, challenging audience expectation, and Alex Jones, David Icke and the current conspiracy cultural moment.

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota: Episode 148 - Bugonia

Thanks for listening!

©2026

If I Had Legs I'd Kick You: A Review - The Madness and Mania of Motherhood

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SEE IT. Be forewarned, this film isn’t so much a dramedy as it is a horror-comedy that is nightmare fuel for parents…it also features a terrific performance from Rose Byrne.

If I Had Legs I’d Kick You, written and directed by Mary Bronstein, follows the travails of Linda, a mother who must deal with a plethora of disasters in her life all while caring for her chronically ill daughter.

The film, which stars Rose Byrne – who is nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actress for her work, opened in theatres back on October 10th, and is now streaming on HBO Max…which is where I just watched it.

The basic plot of If I Had Legs I’d Kick You is that Linda (Rose Byrne) is caring for her daughter, who I guess is maybe 7 or 8 years old, who has a mysterious chronic condition that requires a feeding tube. Linda is caring for her daughter while working full-time as a psychotherapist and while her husband is away for a few months for his work. In other words, Linda is on her own and has her hands full…and life keeps throwing one catastrophe after another at her until she is overwhelmed by the sheer scope and scale of disasters in her life.

The film bills itself as a psychological comedy-drama…which is sort of a tortured way to describe it. When I was about two-thirds of the way through the film I finally recognized what the movie really is…it is a horror movie. I think if you watch the movie as a horror film it will actually make a lot more sense and it will heighten its positive attributes.

If I Had Legs I’d Kick You is a difficult film to watch…that’s not to say it’s bad because it isn’t, but it is extremely effective and affecting. The odyssey that Linda goes on and the gauntlet she endures is the stuff of real-world nightmares. Any parent will immediately recognize the hell on earth that Linda is living through and will be greatly uncomfortable. Every parent has been through those times when everything is off and everything goes wrong and you have a bad day…or even a bad week…but Linda’s torment goes on for months and it is excruciating to witness.

Filmmaker Mary Bronstein does a terrific job of using all the tools at her disposal to increase the anxiety of viewers throughout, most notably through sound…the constant sound of the daughter’s over-night feeding device beeping, or the incredulously grating sound of the daughter’s voice whenever she opens her mouth…all of it adds to the tension.

Bronstein also is very clever in that she puts all the focus on Byrne’s Linda and just uses the child as a prop of agitation…so much so that you never see the daughter’s face. The faceless daughter is not an object of love to be adored, she is an irritant to be endured. In this way Bronstein effectively captures what it’s like to be in the worst moments of parenthood…unfortunately for Linda this moment lasts for months on end and not an afternoon.

Rose Byrne has gotten much acclaim for her performance in the film, and there’s an outside chance she wins a Best Actress Oscar for it…and it would be well-deserved. She is fantastic as the haggard Linda, who is constantly on the verge of absolutely losing her mind and with it her shit.

Byrne has always been an under-rated actress, and seeing her embrace such a tortured and ugly role is a joy and reveals her to be quite the subtle craftswoman. Watching Byrne’s Linda shift the masks she wears in public for differing audiences…be they her daughter, her daughter’s doctor, her clients, her own therapist, her neighbors…and have it all be believable no matter how unbelievable she is, is impressive. Her performance is akin to watching as frog in a pot of water as it slowly boils…as it is both captivating and cruel.

The film is not perfect though, as it has some stories and character arcs that are pretty ineffective. For example, there’s a whole storyline involving James, Linda’s neighbor, that doesn’t make a bit of sense and sort of sucks the life out of the film every time it takes center stage. James is played by rapper ASAP Rocky, and he is, to be kind – a lifeless screen presence.

On the plus side, Conan O’Brien has a small supporting role as Linda’s therapist and he does a good job at being a douchebag…which I found amusing.

Speaking of amusing, If I Had Legs I’d Kick You certainly has funny moments but it doesn’t feel like a comedy. The laughs it generates are more a function of anxiety and tension than anything else. The biggest joke of all, of course, is just the Book of Job-like, continuous onslaught of horribleness that is perpetually inflicted upon poor Linda.

Ultimately, If I Had Legs I’d Kick You is a grueling endurance test for parents to watch…but it does bring with it some psychological insight and the briefest sprinkling of profundity, which all parents will recognize when it rears its head.

That said, I watched the film on my own, and I would be very curious to know what mothers think of it as I think it may cut way too close to the bone for even the most-hearty of matriarchs to endure. I mean, if a mother finally gets some free time, and they use it to watch a movie, do they want that movie to essentially be a horror film about a cavalcade of awful parenting shit being thrown at the lovely Rose Byrne who gets buried under a mountain of said shit? I honestly don’t know.

Mothers may find catharsis in the film by seeing themselves and their struggle, or they may leave the movie more anxious than when they went in. Who knows?

All I will say is that I think overall, the film is well-made by Mary Bronstein, and Rose Byrne gives a terrific performance as Linda. If you have the stomach for it, I recommend you at least give If I Had Legs I’d Kick You a try…but go into knowing it is essentially a horror film for parents…with a few laughs sprinkled throughout.

©2026  

The Smashing Machine: A Review - MMA Drama Lacks Punch

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. A missed opportunity of a movie that wastes a good performance by Dwayne Johnson with a bad script and sub-par filmmaking.

The Smashing Machine, written and directed by Benny Safdie, is a biopic that chronicles the personal life and career of esteemed amateur wrestler and MMA fighter Mark Kerr.

The film, which stars Dwyane “The Rock” Johnson and Emily Blunt, was released in theatres on October 3, 2025, and is now available to stream on HBO Max, which is where I watched it.

Director Benny Safdie, who along with his brother Josh, made his name as a member of the Safdie brothers directing duo, is flying solo with The Smashing Machine just like his brother Josh was alone at the helm on his new movie Marty Supreme. I reviewed Marty Supreme yesterday and revealed how underwhelmed and annoyed I was with that movie…now it’s Benny’s turn in the barrel. (As an aside, a scandal broke yesterday regarding the Safdie brothers and the mistreatment of an underage actress on the set of their 2017 film Good Time – but that is a discussion for another day.)

The Smashing Machine follows the ups and downs of Mark Kerr (Dwayne Johnson), a decorated amateur wrestler turned mixed-martial arts fighter, as he navigates the early days of MMA, a tumultuous relationship with his girlfriend Dawn (Emily Blunt), and drug addiction.

The Smashing Machine is a truly perplexing movie. It is one of those films where you are constantly waiting for the actual story to start, but it somehow never does. The whole venture feels entirely cursory, scattered and frivolous, which is an odd thing to feel considering the rather compelling life that Mark Kerr has lived.

It is also a movie that seems at odds with itself. For example, the film’s star, Dwayne Johnson, is notorious for his rather putrid filmography and The Smashing Machine was supposed to be his big-breakout as a “real” actor and a potential Oscar contender. But that didn’t happen because the film flopped at the box office and with critics. What is crazy though, is that Johnson is actually pretty good in the role of Mark Kerr.

Johnson, aided by some fantastic make up by Kazu Hiro, is…as incredible as it is to say since he is such a distinctive star – unrecognizable as Kerr. His face is altered to look like Kerr – or at least to not look like The Rock that we all know. And Johnson does a good job in the dramatic scenes where he must navigate a character that is both guarded and yet also on the verge of being out of control.

The problem though is that the film never lives up to the good work Johnson does in it. The script is a dramatically incoherent mess that flits from one inconsequential scene to another, inhabited by paper thin caricatures pretending to be characters.

You would think that the fight scenes would at least be where Safdie and his cinematographer Maceo Bishop would flex their muscles…but no. The fight sequences in this movie are so visually stilted and relentlessly dull that it is rather shocking to behold.

It isn’t just the fight scenes that are cinematically flaccid, as the entire film looks like a second-rate tv movie.

Emily Blunt plays Kerr’s girlfriend Dawn, who is both a loving partner and an insidious influence on him. Blunt looks amazing, and actually does decent work in the role, but her character makes absolutely zero dramatic sense thanks to the abysmal script.

Both Johnson and Blunt deserved better…a better script, better direction, better cinematography. But what they got was a series of disconnected scenes where they do their best but it is all for naught.

The Smashing Machine eschews traditional sports movie structure and narrative arc, and that would have been a noble arthouse choice to make if the film were even remotely well-made…but it isn’t and so this eschewing of sports movie orthodoxy becomes nothing more than just another frustration for viewers.

The most frustrating thing about the film is that it could have, maybe even should have, been great…and it had many paths to greatness but Benny Safdie chose none of them.

It could have been a straight forward sports movie…sort of an early MMA Rocky movie. Or it could have been an arthouse exploration of a fighter’s dark side and decline…like Raging Bull. But for some reason Benny Safdie took the very worst aspects of both of those type of movies and threw them together haphazardly and turned out a movie so instantly forgettable it feels like it doesn’t even exist when you’re watching it. Hell, it could have been an intimate and in-depth study on the intricacies of mixed-martial arts and the clashing of fighting styles…but it isn’t that either…and it isn’t a redemption story or addiction story or relationship story.

One would assume that since Dwayne Johnson did not get the Oscar nomination and critical-praise he was seeking with The Smashing Machine, that he will revert back to being The Rock and churning out the most reprehensible big budget garbage imaginable from this point forward. That would be unfortunate for everyone involved…audiences most of all.

One hopes that Johnson continues to at least take chances in the roles he chooses and avoids the pitfalls he has repeatedly fallen in to over the course of his career.

One also hopes that Emily Blunt, who is a terrific actress and very charming movie star, will choose more arthouse movies and more challenging roles going forward. She is someone who should be in Oscar contention year in and year out…but she needs to make better choices in the movies she makes.

As for Benny Safdie…I don’t know what to say. I didn’t like Josh Safdie’s Marty Supreme but there is no doubt that it is a vastly superior to The Smashing Machine. Josh is definitely winning the battle of the brothers and has shown himself to be the filmmaking talent in the duo.

Benny has fancied himself an actor as well, with roles in both Licorice Pizza and Oppenheimer….and he was as awful in both roles as he was at directing The Smashing Machine. Not good for Benny…and considering Benny might be the source who leaked the new Safdie scandal on Good Time in order to sabotage his brother’s Oscar chances this year…it would seem a filmmaking reunion between Benny and Josh isn’t in the cards.

As for The Smashing Machine…I simply can’t recommend it to anyone…be they cinephiles, sports movie lovers or MMA fans. It is a terribly missed opportunity for all involved and an absolute waste of Dwayne Johnson’s rarely seen talents.

©2026

Marty Supreme: a Review - Supremely Over-Rated

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. An overlong, annoying, grating and irritating movie devoid of drama, comedy, meaning, and purpose.

Marty Supreme, written and directed by Josh Safdie, is a dramedy that chronicles the travails of an arrogant, narcissistic, world-class ping pong player/con-man in the 1950’s.

The film, which stars Timothee Chalamet in the titular role, hit theatres on Christmas and has made over $100 million on a $70 million budget. It has also garnered nine Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor (Chalamet), Best Original Screenplay and Best Cinematography.

Director Josh Safdie, formerly of the directing duo the Safdie brothers, is the darling of the hipster set. His previous film (directed by the Safdie brothers) was Uncut Gems, which was adored by critics and despised by me.

That film featured Adam Sandler in the lead role playing a grotesquely repugnant gambling addict on an extended odyssey. Marty Supreme follows a similar roadmap, it tells the story of a grotesquely repugnant ping-pong player who is an arrogant asshole and compulsive bullshit artist on an extended odyssey.

I have heard in my life a lot of people complain about one movie or another by saying that ‘there was no one to root for’, or something along those lines. I understand that criticism but have never found it compelling. I don’t need to root for someone to enjoy a movie…at all.

But the problem with Marty Supreme…and with Uncut Gems…is that I found myself absolutely despising every single character on-screen for the duration of the film. I wasn’t rooting for them or against them…I was just wanting them to go away. I also was mystified by these lead characters and the actors playing them because they lacked charisma and magnetism and yet were supposed to be charismatic and magnetic. Shrug.

The problem with Uncut Gems and Marty Supreme is not unlikable characters, but rather unbelievable one-dimensional characters that are unlikeable.  

What bothered me about Marty Supreme is that it is much too sprawling and meandering a movie to hold one’s attention on such a fruitless ride with such a repulsive character as the lead.

The film never grabs you by the neck and demands your attention because it lacks focus and dramatic verve. Marty goes from one frying pan into the fire situation after another, and none of them are the least bit compelling…just repetitive and grating.

Marty’s odyssey takes him all over the world and puts him into conflict with rich and powerful men of varying degrees wherever he goes…and while the rich and powerful don’t come across very well at all, Marty comes across even worse. Marty is such a relentless, gigantic douchebag that this movie feels like a piece of anti-proletariat agit-prop.

I’ve heard the argument that Marty Supreme is about ‘the pursuit of greatness’ and I find that argument to be sorely lacking. Marty is not pursuing greatness – the truth is ping-pong is a distant second place in his hierarchy to his ego and his baser instincts. He isn’t pursuing greatness he is pursuing his own gratification and self-aggrandizement.

What I find fascinating is that Josh Safdie is Jewish (and obviously his brother is too) and yet in both Uncut Gems and Marty Supreme he has turned his Jewish protagonists into the most awful human beings imaginable animated by nothing more than Jewish stereotypes. They literally have zero redeeming qualities. I am not sure why he has done that, but he has definitely done it. It is so bad that if a non-Jewish filmmaker had made those two films, they would have been pilloried for being anti-Semitic…and rightfully so.

I have intentionally avoided delving too deeply into the morass that is the plot of Marty Supreme in order to avoid spoilers and because it is annoying to even try and recall. Just know that it is all over the place and none of it is worth paying attention to.

There are so many worthless and wandering scenes and sequences in this film it made my head hurt…for example there’s an entire chunk of the movie dedicated to Marty and a dog that is so relentlessly inane and absurd as to be infuriating.

Timothee Chalamet is the favorite to win Best Actor at this year’s Academy Awards, and I get why that is and it has nothing to do with this particular performance but rather with how he has masterfully positioned himself in the industry over the course of his career.

The reality is that Chalamet’s Marty is not a masterclass in acting. It is like a reality tv star performance crossed with a twitter troll come to life. Chalamet has one very good scene in the film and it is his final one…but beyond that he is less acting than he is play-acting…and badly at that.

Something that aggravated me throughout the film is that it is set in the 1950’s and yet Chalamet, and everyone else, speaks in a modern vernacular and acts in a modern way. I understand this is intentional on the part of Safdie – as he uses modern music throughout too, but I found it annoying as it took me out of the story – a story I was struggling to stay in to begin with.

Gwyneth Paltrow plays Kay Stone, a former movie star now trophy wife, with whom Marty has an affair. She does the best she can with a rather thinly written character, and has one scene where she realistically gets frantic, but beyond that there’s not much to see here.

Cinematographer Darius Khondji does his usual supreme – pardon the pun, work on the film. It is well-shot and well-lit, but that doesn’t make its storytelling failures any more palatable.

The success of the Safdie brothers in general, and Marty Supreme in particular, is a mystery to me. I find this film, and all of the Safdie brother’s films, to be relentlessly vacuous, vapid and venal. That critics and hipsters adore them doesn’t make me question my feelings about these films, but reinforces my feelings about critics and hipsters instead.

Ultimately, I cannot think of anyone who I know who would enjoy Marty Supreme, or even appreciate it as a work of cinematic art…and that is because I do not think it is much a work of cinematic art at all.

If you’re a Safdie brothers fan and loved Uncut Gems, then you will no doubt enjoy the interminably long, rather irritating roller coaster ride that is Marty Supreme. For everyone else…there’s nothing to see here.

©2026

Hamnet: A Review - To Be or Not To Be?

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SEE IT. A flawed but very affecting movie that features a fantastic performance from Jessie Buckley.

Hamnet, written and directed by Academy Award winning filmmaker Chloe Zhao, is a tragedy that dramatizes the life of William Shakespeare and his wife Agnes, as well as the alleged origins of the play Hamlet.

The film, which is based on the book of the same name by Maggie O’Farrell, who also co-wrote the screenplay, stars Jessie Buckley as Agnes and Paul Mescal as the bard.

Hamnet hit select theatres here in the U.S. at the end of November and is in wide release still. I watched it over the weekend.

Let me start by saying that I am the ultimate target audience for this movie. First off, I am a classically trained actor…so I’ve done lots of Shakespeare, including playing Hamlet. And more importantly, how I got to be a classically trained actor fits perfectly into the thesis of Hamnet.

Here's the story…twenty-nine years ago my best friend, creative collaborator and overall partner-in-crime, Keith Hertell, with whom I had suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune that accompany life as an artist in a cruel world, was killed in a car crash in Titusville, Florida.

At the time of his death, Keith and I were working a soul-crushing office job together, and he took a Friday off to fly down to Florida for a wedding. He never came back.

Due to a lack of talent and skill I am incapable of adequately expressing the devastation I felt, and still feel, regarding Keith’s death. He was the most unique, original, talented and magnetic person I have ever met. He was brilliant in a multitude of ways – a staggeringly gifted actor, comedian and musician. The most notable thing about Keith though was that he was unanimously adored by everyone who ever met him. He had an absurdly kind heart, a razor-sharp wit and an easy-going, disarming smile.

In the wake of Keith’s shuffling off his mortal coil and departing for the undiscovered country, from whose bourn, no traveller returns, I was absolutely inconsolable. I was disoriented, furious and depressed. I had nowhere to turn. Religion would have been somewhere for me to go but I was so angry at what God had done that I declared war on him…a foolish endeavour, no doubt, but fuck him…I had nothing to lose. It should come as no surprise that my war against God was an impulsive, ignoble cause and I was soundly defeated…although it took considerably longer than to be expected – anger is a remarkably useful fuel.

Then one day out of despair I picked up a paperback copy of Hamlet. I read it. In those pages I found a profound reflection of my own grief. It all made perfect sense to me now. Hamlet wasn’t crazy…he was grieving – which looks a lot like insanity to those outside of it.

I vividly remember riding the subway one day and being lost in my thoughts of Keith and having tears streaming down my face, and then remembering something hysterical he had done and laughing uncontrollably, and then weeping again…and then I sort of snapped out of it and noticed that everyone on the subway was staring at me like I was a lunatic – which I sort of was. My behavior on the subway that day was a perfect encapsulation of Hamlet. Grief knocks you out of the rhythm of everyday life, and you seem mad because you’re so out of sync with everyone, and everything, else.

Reading Hamlet, I found a dramatic rendition of my grief, which felt like profundity, if not solace, or at the very least understanding…which then gave me meaning and purpose. I set out from that moment on a pseudo-religious quest to learn as much as I could about Shakespeare’s work – not in an academic sense, but in an artistic one. I auditioned for a Shakespeare company, got in…then trained as much as I could…and ultimately went to London and studied at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. Pretty great experience born out of the most brutal experience imaginable.

Speaking of great experiences…or magical ones…I got to see Ralph Fiennes play Hamlet on Broadway thirty years ago…the best I’ve ever seen…then got to meet him – and his brother Joseph (of Shakespeare in Love fame), at RADA…pretty cool experience.

Which brings us to Hamnet. The thesis of the film is essentially that the play Hamlet was written in the deep throes of grief as a dramatic eulogy for Agnes and William Shakespeare’s lost child…which aligns with my experience of the play as grief personified.

The film is undeniably affecting, and boasts an emotionally powerful final twenty minutes that elicited from me guttural wails of grief, no doubt built up over a lifetime of heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.

The problem with Hamnet though, is that despite its moving final act, the film fails to fully form in its opening two acts.

The film is up and down…a walking dichotomy. For example, it is beautifully shot but poorly staged. There were multiple times where I marveled at cinematographer Lukasz Zal’s stunning work but was frustrated by a failure to provide adequate visual coverage of the dramatic events unfolding.

Another example is that the film boasts two exquisite performances from Jessie Buckley and Paul Mescal, but the script never develops the characters in any substantial way to have the drama they endure be anything but window dressing for the rending of garments that comes in the final act.

Speaking of the performances, Jessie Buckley, who is nominated for a Best Actress Academy Award for her work as Agnes, is spectacular in the role. Agnes is a delicious character for an actress, wild and witchy, and Buckley devours her with aplomb.

Buckley is the embodiment of primal maternal energy as Agnes…mother nature incarnate. She is grounded yet ethereal, and is aggressively compelling.

In the final act it is Buckley’s Agnes that is our avatar, and we watch the dramatic events unfold on stage through her eyes and it is a truly magical and mesmerizing experience.

Paul Mescal is not given quite as captivating a character as Buckley’s Agnes, but he makes the most of his Shakespeare role and truly comes to life when he is called upon to actually recite Shakespeare’s written words.

As previously stated, I am a sucker for anything in the SCU (Shakespeare Cinematic Universe), and while I found the final act riveting and emotionally potent, I feel like Hamnet could have…and should have…been better.

Unfortunately, Hamnet never fully coalesces into the coherent cinematic masterpiece that it obviously possesses the ability to be…and that was disappointing.

That said, I still found the film very moving, and if you like Shakespeare and like to cry, then Hamnet might be for you too. Is it as good as seeing a top-notch performance of Hamlet on stage? No. But what is?

So is Hamnet to be, or not to be? The answer is that conscience makes cowards of us all, and thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied over with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pitch and moment, with this regard their currents turn awry, and lose the name of action….and so it is with Hamnet.

©2026

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota: Episode 147 - The Rip

On this episode, Barry and I go undercover to discuss all things The Rip...the new Matt Damon and Ben Affleck cop action drama on Netflix. Topics discussed include our opinions on Matt, Ben, and Matt and Ben...and the nefariously negative influence of Netflix on the art of cinema.

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota: Episode 147 - The Rip

Thanks for listening!

©2026

The Rip: A Review - Damon and Affleck's Generic Netflix Cop Slop

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 1.5 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: So instantly forgettable I am not entirely sure this movie even actually exists.

The Rip, starring Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, is an action thriller about Miami narcotics cops who discover a huge pile of drug money and have to figure out who among them is corrupt.

The film, written and directed by Joe Carnahan, is a Netflix original and hit the streaming service on Friday January 16th.

First off, let me say that in general I am a fan of both Matt Damon and Ben Affleck as individuals, and have enjoyed the majority of work that they’ve done together over the years.

Damon and Affleck, of course, came to prominence in 1997 as writers/stars of the Academy Award winning Good Will Hunting, which is a deliriously compelling film. They didn’t write another film together until 2021’s The Last Duel – directed by Ridley Scott, which they also acted in. The Last Duel was overlooked due to Covid and disappointed many, but I thought it was quite good. Their most recent pairing on-screen was Air (2023) – the story of Nike saving itself by creating the Air Jordan sneaker, which neither of them wrote but which Affleck directed – it was good enough.

Good Will Hunting, The Last Duel and Air are a great, a good, and a decent film respectively, all of which feature, at a minimum, solid performances from Matt and Ben. The most striking thing about all three of these films is that they are well-made films that actually, in one way or another, mean something…and that is a credit to both Matt and Ben’s talent, and more importantly, their artistic integrity.

The Rip is a dramatic detour from the usual Damon and Affleck path as it is a rather thoughtless, tedious, worthless exercise in nothingness and meaninglessness. It is a painfully pedestrian affair that is steeped in the Netflix philosophy of “second-screen viewing”…trust me when I tell that if ever a movie were designed to have you scroll on your phone while watching it, it is The Rip.

The specifics of the plot are so generic as to make an AI bot blush. There’s a rough and tumble Miami Narcotics team whose captain was just murdered, and everyone is now a suspect. Then they go to a drug house and find millions of dollars in cash…do they steal it? Or is it a set up? Who is setting them up? They can trust no one!! Not even themselves!!

Yawn.

If you want to see Matt Damon and Ben Affleck say “ the rip” a lot, watch Affleck smoke some frighteningly feminine looking cigarettes that may or may not be Virginia Slims, see a bunch of absurdly improbable consequence-free action sequences despite being set in a “gritty” realist universe, and be fed a bunch of twists and turns and double-crosses and triple-crosses that don’t make a lick of sense…then The Rip is for you.

The film, like the vast majority of Netflix films, looks like shit. It has a budget of $100 million, bloated mostly because Damon and Affleck’s production company, Artists Equity, demands money up front to cover the equity cast and crew lose in the streaming world – a noble effort. But the film, instead of looking shadowy and sharp – like a noir, looks flat, muddled and hazy, like every other Netflix piece of shit product.

You’re supposed to care about the characters in the movie not because they are well-written and compelling characters – they aren’t, but because they are Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. And yet, even though they are Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, you really don’t give a shit about them.

Damon and Affleck do well-enough at the kind of move star play-acting that is required for their roles, but this is essentially them sleepwalking through the movie for 113 minutes.

I like Matt Damon a lot, and think he is actually a very under-appreciated actor on top of being a solid movie star, but I couldn’t help but notice that this is the second big streaming service movie he’s made that he essentially gives little to no effort in…the first being 2024’s The Instigators for Apple TV, starring another Affleck…Casey.

The Instigators – also an Artists Equity production, was the same sort of cheap, thoughtless, half-assed movie that The Rip is…and Damon sleepwalks through that one too.

The Instigators was so instantly forgettable I am not entirely sure it even ever really existed. It’s like one of those inconsequential dreams you have in the middle of the night that has no discernible attributes and distinguishable moments or scenes in it and then after waking up from it and going back to sleep you forget everything about it but then when you wake up in the morning you vaguely remember you might have had a dream at one point but you have no recollection of any of it at all…which now that I consider it sounds exactly like with The Rip too.

The Rip is so instantly forgettable that despite having watched it this past weekend I am still not sure it really exists…it may have just been something I heard discussed on an episode of Entourage back in the day (which is something you can say about virtually all of writer/director Joe Carnahan’s films).

It would seem that Damon and Ben Affleck are trying to churn and burn with these rather vapid, vacuous and venal movies in an attempt to build up Artists Equity’s filmography and standing in the industry. Unfortunately for them, and us, these movies are so egregiously insignificant and unexceptional that they are going to drain the hard fought, long-fostered equity they’ve built up with their audience over the years.

It would be one thing if Matt and Ben were failing at making some arthouse, experimental or avant-garde movie in the service of an auteur’s vision and the art of cinema, or some political progressive polemic…but they’re not…they are failing at making cookie-cutter, dime-a-dozen, generic action movies…quite a shameful turn of events.

As for The Rip…if you want to have something on in the background while you doom scroll Instagram or X, then this movie could conceivably be that thing. You won’t miss anything in the movie while scrolling because you won’t care what’s happening anyway…and if you did pay attention, you still wouldn’t really know or care what is going on the movie anyway…so there’s that.

In conclusion, in order to both express my disdain for this film and to also adequately spotlight how incredibly clever I am, I will conclude my review of The Rip thusly…

The Rip? More like R.I.P.

©2026

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota: Episode 146 - Jay Kelly

On this episode, Barry and I talk all things Jay Kelly, the new Noah Baumbach Netflix movie starring George Clooney and Adam Sandler. Topics discussed include the mystery of George Clooney's success...the mystery of Adam Sandler's success...and the mystery of Noah Baumbach's success...plus a new round of everybody's favorite game "Studio Exec!" where Barry and I pretend to be studio execs and recast the movie!!

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota: Episode 146 - Jay Kelly

Thanks for listening!

©2026

Bugonia: A Review - The Madness and Mastery of King Yorgos

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SEE IT. An arthouse gem of a film that speaks insightfully to the madness of our modern age.

Bugonia, directed by Yorgos Lanthimos and starring Emma Stone and Jesse Plemons, tells the story of two conspiracy-obsessed cousins who kidnap a CEO of a nefarious company.

The film, which is a remake of the South Korean film Save the Green Planet!, hit theatres on October 24th and didn’t make much of a splash – despite mostly positive reviews it made $40 million on a $45 million budget. It is currently streaming on Peacock, which is where I just watched it.

Director Yorgos Lanthimos is definitely an acquired taste…but one which I am grateful to have acquired. I remember years ago loving Lanthimos’s film The Lobster (2015), which is an absurdist arthouse black comedy, and highly recommending it to a friend of mine. He then went and saw the movie with his parents and all three of them hated the movie with the fury of a thousand suns. What can you do?

Since The Lobster, Lanthimos has churned out a bevy of really fantastic and unique films. The Killing of a Sacred Deer (2018) was a weird and woolly arthouse gem. The Favourite and Poor Things were phenomenal films that garnered Best Actress Academy Awards for their lead actresses Olivia Colman and Emma Stone respectively. Kinds of Kindness was an oddball anthology that was one of my favorite films of 2024.

Bugonia is right in Lanthimos’s wheelhouse as it is definitely an arthouse black comedy project but one that can appeal to more mainstream tastes if given the chance.

I won’t give much of the plot of the film away as I think it best to avoid any semblance of spoilers in order to appreciate the film to its fullest. But as stated in the opening paragraph, Bugonia follows the travails of Teddy (Jesse Plemons) and Don (Aiden Delbis), two conspiracy theorist cousins, as they plot to kidnap Michelle Fuller (Emma Stone), a hard-charging CEO of a pharmaceutical company.

The magic of Bugonia is that it could be a stage play as it is rudimentary in its dramatic set-up, but it is also gorgeously photographed by Robbie Ryan with a stunning simplicity. In other words, it is an actor’s dream of a screenplay – which Emma Stone and Jesse Plemons devour with aplomb, that is glorious to look at due to Ryan’s deft, subtle and crisp cinematography.

The performances of Stone, Plemons and even newcomer Delbis, are remarkable.

Emma Stone has two Best Actress Academy Awards and if we lived in a just world, she would be receiving her third one this year for her work on Bugonia. Stone is at the point in her career where she is so good her greatness is taken for granted and overlooked.

As the CEO Michelle, Stone delivers a dexterous and complex performance that is sharp, savvy and nimble. Stone’s Michelle is always believable even when she isn’t.

Jesse Plemons is a terrific and often overlooked actor and he brings the full weight of his talents to bear as Teddy, the “brains” of the two-man conspiracy addled operation.

Plemons’ Teddy is a cauldron of suppressed emotions and wounds ready to burst at the seams. Thanks to Plemons’ mastery, Teddy’s eyes betray his twisted and tormented inner life.

One of the more incredible performances in the film comes from newcomer Aiden Delbis as Don. Delbis, who is autistic, was discovered in an open casting call to play the autistic Don…and he is amazing in the role.

What is most striking about Bugonia is that it is ideologically audacious and philosophically brazen. There is something in the zeitgeist in the last year or so, with films like Eddington and now Bugonia, both of which wear their conspiracy obsession on their sleeves and poke their thumbs into the eyes of their target audience while pretending to cozy up to them.

As someone who is often contemptuously labelled a conspiracy theorist by friend and foe alike, I was both unnerved and overjoyed when Plemons’ Teddy numerous times vociferously pontificated an unhinged conspiracy rant that was alarmingly similar to rants that I’ve shouted over the years…so much so that I thought to myself the old joke, ‘I resemble that remark!’

Of course, the joy of being a conspiracy theorist in our current corrupt and crazy age is that the time between being ridiculed for presenting a conspiracy theory and that conspiracy theory being proven correct is at an all-time low.

While discussing the film afterwards with my wife, we spoke about how Bugonia is a perfect double feature with Eddington, a conspiracy themed movie directed by Ari Aster - and one of the very best films of 2025, when her keen eye spotted that Ari Aster is one of the producers of Bugonia. This makes sense, as both Aster and Lanthimos are unique auteurs and artists who are keenly aware of the collective unconscious and the murmurings of madness just beneath the surface of our civilization…and have dramatized that in their films.

Bugonia and Eddington are films that have expansive artistic vision and enormous political and cultural insight to them, which is in stark contrast to the current film bro darling and Oscar front-runner One Battle After Another.

One Battle After Another is what comfortable neo-liberal activists imagine themselves to be, while Eddington and Bugonia are glimpses of the ugly and messy reality at contrast with that self-serving and delusional vision. In other words, One Battle After Another tells liberal coastal elites what they want to hear, and Eddington and Bugonia tell them the unvarnished and uncomfortable truth. Or even more bluntly…One Battle After Another is what “resistance” liberals want to be, and Eddington and Bugonia are what they really are.

My despondence over the state of the world is well-documented. The world is losing its mind faster and faster as every hour of every day passes…and we hurtle blindly toward a conflagration that will engulf us all and suffocate all the humanity out of us and the world. (As an aside…if you think Venezeula is a one-off and not a continuation, or is the end and not the beginning - God help you because you’re too thick for words.)

In my despondence over the world, I turn to art to try and find some insight or solace or understanding…and what I usually find is artistically benign and politically malignant neo-liberal corporate capitalist garbage. But with Bugonia and Eddington I find hope amidst the hopelessness. If two great artists like Lanthimos and Aster are seeing and saying what I am seeing and saying…then at least there is a light that can be a beacon to others who have not lost their way in all of this darkness. Or maybe it isn’t as positive as all that…maybe I am just a cynical, self-serving prophet who is happy to see signs that I am right. Who knows?

All I know is that Bugonia is one of the best films of the year. Be forewarned…it is an arthouse film and it is not for everybody. But even mainstream audiences, if they go into the film with an open mind, can enjoy the madness and mastery of Bugonia.

So go to Peacock – and if you don’t have a subscription, you can get a free week trial – and watch Bugonia, it is well-worth your time, and it might even open your eyes and your mind.

©2026

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota: Episode 145 - Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Story

On this episode, Barry and I put on our detective hats and investigate the new Netflix movie, Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Story. Topics discussed include the mystery of why people like this franchise, Barry's disdain for Daniel Craig, and the trouble with the whodunnit genre. 

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota: Episode 145 - Wake Up Dead Man

Thanks for listening!!

©2026

Stand-up Comedy Review: The Dave Chappelle and Ricky Gervais New Netflix Specials

COMEDY ROUND UP

Dave Chappelle’s The Unstoppable – 2.5 out of 5 Chuckles

Ricky Gervais’ Mortality – 2.5 out of 5 Chuckles

This holiday season has seen two Netflix comedy specials from two of the more notable anti-woke stand-up comedians of our current age released to the masses. Dave Chappelle’s The Unstoppable hit Netflix on December 19th and Ricky Gervais’s Mortality hit the streaming service on December 30th.

Chappelle is widely considered to be the best stand-up comedian of his generation, and he has been on a real heater in the last decade, churning out seven very solid – to often spectacular, comedy specials dating back to 2015.

Deep in the Heart of Texas (filmed in 2015 but released in 2017), The Age of Spin (filmed in 2016 and released in 2017), The Bird Revelation (2017), Equanimity (2017), Sticks and Stones (2019), The Closer (2021), and The Dreamer (2023) is a murderer’s row of comedy specials that eclipses any of Chappelle’s contemporaries by miles.

Chappelle made some tsunami-sized waves with his iconic bits about transgenderism in Sticks and Stones, The Closer and The Dreamer, which put him front and center in the culture wars and in the crosshairs of the tiny Torquemadas of the woke brigade.

Those bits were extraordinarily funny, and effective, because they were so savagely incisive and insightful. Unfortunately, Chappelle’s new special, The Unstoppable, is neither incisive nor insightful. It is a rather meandering set that lacks vigor, comedic vitality and initiative, and is devoid of any particularly memorable bits.

Chappelle’s main focus of the show is him talking about his recent well-paid appearance at a Saudi Arabian comedy festival, which triggered his detractors, like Little Bill Maher, to call him a hypocrite. The argument being that Chappelle is outspoken about free speech and assaults on his right to it, but then would bend the knee to an oppressive regime like Saudi Arabia just for cash.

Chappelle’s response to the criticism, most notably from Maher, lays bare who pulls the strings of whom in the comedy business and Hollywood…and let’s be clear…the Middle Eastern country that controls Hollywood ain’t Saudi Arabia.

Chappelle’s self-defense is, all things considered, mild to say the least…he could’ve eviscerated Bill Maher – a target rich environment if there ever was one…but he doesn’t…he gives him a gentle but firm bitch slap. I personally would’ve loved it if he referenced Maher fellating his Israeli pay masters, as well as the U.S. intelligence and military industrial complex, at every chance he gets, but that’s just me (and that’s something I do on a regular basis).

Chappelle’s set runs just over an hour and it is rather listless and mostly lifeless. It is a disappointment to see Chappelle be less dynamic and vital as we’ve become accustomed.

To close the set Chappelle does talk about how a high-profile, controversial guy like him has a target on his back and maybe someone or some group of people would try and take him out…like they did to Charlie Kirk. Chappelle may be correct with that concern…but my guess is he’ll die of lung cancer before anyone attempts to murder him…or they’ll murder him by giving him lung cancer…because his chain smoking during the special is the most memorable thing about it.

Since 2018 Ricky Gervais has been consistently touring and releasing comedy specials, some of which have been very good.

His last three specials, Humanity (2018), SuperNature (2022), and Armageddon (2023), have all been top-notch, with Gervais slapping woke culture with verve and aplomb on all of them.

Gervais has never been considered a great stand-up comedian, but with those three specials he showed himself to be quite adept at the art form. Unfortunately, Gervais’s newest special, Mortality, is a divergence from recent history, as it’s a pretty flaccid affair.

Gervais throughout seems detached, and the special feels less like a real stand-up show captured on film than a choreographed comedy special masquerading as a real stand-up show.

Gone from Mortality is Gervais’s usual verve and vitality and in its steed is a rather rudimentary set that feels small and creatively and comedically withered. Gervais’s timing is off throughout and his energy is diluted and distracted.

The material in Mortality is, on the rarest of occasions, clever, but never insightful, and it all feels rather sub-par and unoriginal…so much so that the best parts are when Gervais recounts better jokes he told while masterfully hosting the Golden Globes in years past.

In contemplating Chappelle and Gervais’s sub-par comedy output on these new shows, the conclusion I came to is this…that the fever of wokeness – and its accompanying hysteria, has broken, at least for now, and so comedians who thrived pushing against that madness, now find themselves without a formidable foil and thus they lose some vitality and verve.

Chappelle and Gervais were so good at standing in the eye of the woke storm and sticking a thumb in it that now with the hurricane winds subsiding, they have lost some meaning and purpose in their work.

Another comedian who thrived in opposition to wokeness was Bill Burr, whose anger and rage found a perfect target in the silly and soul-sucking mania of the woke movement. Burr though has now lost his fastball…and the majority of his other pitches, not because wokeness seems to be receding, but because he has essentially acquiesced to the woke mob – instead of beating them…he joined them – and lost his edge in the process.

It seems incomprehensible to even consider Chappelle or Gervais doing such a thing…but in the current moment, where wokeness has loosened its manic grip on the culture, Chappelle and Gervais have in response lost their comedic fervor. They seem to be men wandering the new cultural landscape trying to find their way and identify some landmarks with which to orient themselves and their comedy.

All in all, The Unstoppable and Mortality are forgettable comedy specials that are entirely harmless…and essentially toothless. They are worth maybe three or four chuckles each, and frankly, that’s the bare minimum for an hour long special.

If you are looking for some transcendent, insightful stand-up comedy from Chappelle and Gervais, The Unstoppable and Mortality is not it. That said, you could do worse than watch these two specials if you’re looking for a laugh or two and to pass the time.

©2026

Emptying the Notebook - Four Film Reviews for the Price of One

END OF YEAR HOUSECLEANING

As the year is coming to a close, I went back through my notebook and discovered some films I watched but did not properly review. So I figured why not just empty everything out and share some brief thoughts on these movies in case you were looking for something to watch over the holidays.

THE APPRENTICEAvailable to stream on Amazon Prime

The Apprentice is actually a 2024 film but I never got around to watching it…and I have to say I was pleasantly surprised as I had very low expectations for the film and they were easily exceeded.

I expected a sort of run of the mill anti-Trump diatribe in film form…a sentiment I understand but which I believe would make for a rather dull feature film. What I got instead was a really incredible performance from Sebastian Stan as The Donald, in a rather nuanced and, all things considered, restrained biography of the early adult years of our current President.

Directed by Ali Abbasi, The Apprentice chronicles Trump’s ascent in the New York real estate and social world from a nepo nobody to a socialite somebody. Trump’s relationship with uber-scumbag Roy Cohn – portrayed with aplomb by Jeremy Strong, gives the background to his cutthroat approach to both business and politics.

The film is shockingly good in the first half in presenting Trump as an actual human being trying to understand the world and his place in it. In the second half it loses some steam, some perspective and nuance, but Stan never loses his grasp of the character or his humanity (or inhumanity as the case may be).

Sebastian Stan’s portrayal of Trump in this film is jaw-droppingly good. He doesn’t imitate Trump, but he is subtle in recreating some of his mannerisms and speech, and he gives a truly seamless and sterling performance. Stan was nominated for a Best Actor Oscar and Strong for Best Supporting Actor…and both nominations are very well deserved.

If you are looking for a solid movie to watch, you could do much worse than watching The Apprentice. That said, if you are burned out on all things Trump…I get it.

My Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

WARFARE – Available to stream on HBO MAX

Warfare is a 2025 film directed by Alex Garland and Ray Mendoza that sort of slid under the radar when it hit theatres in April.

The film chronicles a single military encounter of a Navy SEAL platoon in 2006 during the Battle of Ramadi. It is based on the real-life experience of director Mendoza and accounts from his team members.

Alex Garland is a filmmaker who showed great promise in his debut feature Ex Machina, but who has disappointed since then. His most recent film, 2024’s Civil War, showed great promise as well but never was quite as good as it should have been.

Warfare is, in my unhumble opinion, Garland’s best film since Ex Machina. It is a rather simple set up, a platoon of Navy SEALS is stuck doing surveillance in a house in Ramadi. Then the shit hits the fan and a battle erupts.

The film is well shot by cinematographer David J. Thompson, and well-choreographed by Mendoza. The battle is chaotic and feels entirely real. The best thing about Warfare is that it feels like you are plunged into a real setting and situation with real warriors. It doesn’t have the usual Hollywood film structure or pacing or anything like that. There are no grandiose speeches are dramatic movie star posturing, just a cast of regular looking dudes thrown into a hellish environment and trying to survive it.

The film is not overtly political, but it certainly does have something to say about the Iraq debacle if you have eyes to see it.

I found Warfare to be an effective and affecting piece of moviemaking. It isn’t a great film, but it is a good enough one to recommend people check it out and do so with an open mind.

My Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

28 YEARS LATER – Available to stream on Netflix

28 Years Later is the sequel to the 2002 film 28 Days Later, both of which were written by the aforementioned Alex Garland. It is the third film in the 28 Days Later franchise…and a fourth is on its way in 2026.

I greatly enjoyed 28 Days Later when I saw it in the theatre back in 2002, as it gave a real jolt of energy to the zombie genre – a genre I admittedly had little interest in or knowledge of.

Having revisited 28 Days Later recently, the shine has come off that film in many ways. It wasn’t quite as good as I remembered it (I hadn’t seen it since seeing it in the theatre).

That said, I went into 28 Years Later with an open mind. I found the film, which is directed by Danny Boyle – the director of the original, to be mostly underwhelming.

The movie features a top-notch cast of Jodie Comer, Aaron Taylor Johnson, Jack O’Connell and Ralph Fiennes, so there is a great deal of potential there…but unfortunately it never coalesces into a compelling piece of cinema.

To be clear, it isn’t a bad film, but it also isn’t a great one…it just kind of exists. It is less a zombie movie than an existential and philosophical one…and that gives it some energy, but the plot and the execution of it all never quite comes together in a way that satisfies or satiates.

The biggest question I had at the end of the film was why was this necessary? I mean, I get that the first movie was compelling and the second – 28 Weeks Later (2007), was forgettable…but why make another movie in the franchise nearly twenty years later when there wasn’t exactly a rallying cry from the masses to get it done?

Ultimately, 28 Years Later is a pretty forgettable bit of moviemaking, something that has become all-too common in the last decade of Danny Boyle’s directing career.

I say skip 28 Years Later unless if you’re a gigantic zombie movie fanatic…but even then, you’ll be disappointed with the general lack of zombie mayhem captured on screen.

My Rating: 2.5 out of 5 stars

THE SHROUDS – Available to stream on The Criterion Channel

The Shrouds, iconic filmmaker David Cronenberg’s latest film, hit theatres in 2025 and is now streaming on The Criterion Channel.

The film, which stars Vincent Cassel, Guy Pearce, Diane Kruger and Sandrine Holt, tells the story of a widower who has invented a new technology called “GraveTech”, that helps the grieving to monitor the decomposition of their loved one in the grave. Yes…this is some weird Cronenberg-ian shit.

The film is a sort of glorious concoction that mixes the usual Cronenberg body horror with a philosophical mediation on love, death, life and the modern world. Throw in some conspiracy theorizing and some big business corruption and you’ve got quite the arthouse phantasmagoria.

If you are a fan of David Cronenberg – and I consider myself one…not a super fan but a fan, then you will absolutely love The Shrouds as it is quintessential Cronenberg – most especially late-stage Cronenberg, as a man grappling with his own mortality and the death of his wife.

If you’re a normal human being you will probably find The Shrouds to be a completely alien, convoluted, and rather ghoulish cinematic experience. I understand that entirely and don’t judge anyone for feeling that way.

But if you are a Cronenberg fan, or a fan of somewhat eccentric arthouse cinema from a quality filmmaker who sometimes makes somewhat eccentric arthouse cinema…then I recommend you at least check out The Shrouds.

Ultimately The Shrouds might not be everybody’s cup of tea, but it is undeniably an original idea…and that is pretty rare nowadays.

My Rating: 2.5 out of 5 stars (3.5 out of 5 stars for Cronenberg fans)

If you want to check out some other Cronenberg films here is a brief rundown of movies to see.

Solid horror moviesThe Brood, Scanners, Videodrome, The Fly, Dead Ringers.

Very Solid Mainstream MoviesA History of Violence, Eastern Promises, A Dangerous Method.

Gloriously Bat-Shit Crazy Movies Worth WatchingCrash (1996)

Alright gang…that is all I have for now. I hope everyone has a happy and healthy New Year!!

©2025

Megadoc: A Documentary Review - Chronicling a Movie Mega-Disaster

 ****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SEE IT. A compelling and insightful journey through the madness of Megalopolis.

Megadoc, directed by Mike Figgis, is a documentary that chronicles the production of Francis Ford Coppola’s infamous 2024 film, Megalopolis.

Once upon a time, Francis Ford Coppola - director of such iconic films as The Godfather I and II, The Conversation, and Apocalypse Now, was among the greatest filmmakers of all time. That time has long since passed….as evidenced by the catastrophic artistic and commercial failure that was Megalopolis.

Megalopolis was a bloated, incoherent disaster area of a movie that tried to mix filmmaking with theatre to tell the story of the Roman Republic morphing into the Roman Empire as a metaphor for modern-day America. The movie was so bad, so poorly designed and poorly executed that instead of making me mad, it actually made me sad.  (My review and podcast on the film)

Megalopolis was Coppola’s white whale…an ill-fated, grandiose ambition that first lured, then dragged, the famed director’s artistry to the depths of its watery grave. Coppola had been chasing this idea for forty some odd years, (twenty-five years ago he even cast the movie and shot some footage which is shown in Megadoc – and seems like it would have been a much better version as it starred Ryan Gosling, Uma Thurman and Robert DeNiro) and having watched Megalopolis I can confidently say that he should have never caught it.  

Watching the consistently compelling Megadoc gives a hint as to why and how Megalopolis failed so spectacularly.

Mike Figgis, an acclaimed filmmaker himself best known for his 1995 film Leaving Las Vegas, posits himself right in the middle of Coppola’s production and guides us seamlessly through the hopeful and creative rehearsal period to the ponderous and perplexing shooting up to the debut at Cannes.

Coppola is known for his extravagant approach to shooting, and the chaos that reigns upon his set…most notably on Apocalypse Now – the production of which was captured by Coppola’s wife Eleanor in the masterful documentary Hearts of Darkness. Eleanor, who is seen briefly in Megadoc, sadly passed away in 2024, six months before Megalopolis was released in the U.S.

The chaos on the set of Megalopolis pales in comparison to that on Apocalypse Now. Apocalypse Now was a concoction composed of clashing artistic brilliance and attempting to capture bold ideas as they lurked deep in the heart of the jungles of the Philippines. From that concoction came a masterpiece that accurately captured the madness of its maker.

Megalopolis, on the other hand, is just a truly bad idea – painfully trite and devoid of insight or originality, that fails to ever come into complete focus in the mind of an old man nearly fifty years passed his prime.

Coppola is now 86 years old…and that is way too old to be making a movie this ambitious. Hell, Coppola at 46 years old would not have been able to pull this off.

Figgis captures the organizational clashes on Coppola’s set between artistic department heads and the stubborn and dated director. Coppola wants all sorts of remarkable things and fails to understand how much those things will cost and how difficult they are to create.

Adding to the tension is the fact that Coppola essentially paid for the film himself and is throwing away his family’s inheritance in order to get it made.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, Coppola fails to grasp what it will take to make the movie work, and the budget balloons to over $125 million. A budget this large is no longer uncommon in Hollywood, but the overwhelming majority of those movies are financed by studios – who have money to burn, and not filmmakers spending their own savings.

Coppola hasn’t made a good movie in thirty-five years, which is why no studio would give him $125 million to make this ill-conceived movie in the first place. And seeing him try and navigate production of Megalopolis painfully reveals that his vision for the movie, even if executed perfectly, was never going to work. Theatre and film mix like oil and water, and the theatricality of Megalopolis is like a poison coursing through the veins of the film.

One of the more interesting parts of Coppola’s process is how he rehearses his actors. Figgis deftly captures the theatre games that Coppola makes his cast play and they both seemed very familiar to me as a former actor and acting coach, and also somewhat silly. Coppola’s rehearsal process would be deemed brilliant if the films that followed them turned out good…but that hasn’t happened in a really, really long time.

Unfortunately for Coppola, some of his biggest mistakes on Megalopolis were made in casting. The star of the film, Adam Driver, delivers a dead-eyed and dull performance that lifelessly floats through the movie – as does his co-star Nathalie Emmanuel – both of whom refuse to let Figgis shoot them on set for the documentary (Driver does do an interview after shooting).

But as bad as the casting decisions of Driver and Emmanuel are, the worst decision Coppola made was casting Shia LeBeouf. LeBeouf was in the wake of a physical, emotional and sexual abuse scandal when Coppola cast him in the film, and was desperate to be back in the movie game.

You’d think LeBeouf, who was well-aware of his negative reputation, would work extra hard not to be a gigantic pain in the ass on the set of Megalopolis…you’d be wrong.

LeBeouf is such an incorrigible douchebag on the set, constantly questioning Coppola on his choices and often demanding changes to suit his own artistic interpretation, that Coppola at one point just walks away saying Lebeouf is the worst casting decision he’s ever made. LeBeouf argues back that he is not as bad as Marlon Brando who showed up to Apocalypse Now 70 lbs. overweight.

Here's the thing that Shia LeBeouf seems to not understand. When you are an undeniable, million-watt mega-talent like Marlon Brando…or Sean Penn or Daniel Day Lewis…you can be an absolute pain in the ass anytime you want because you are the best at what you do.

When you are Shia LeBeouf, a middling talent at best, who is lucky to be there in the first place…you cannot ever be a pain in the ass. You have to do what you’re told, when you’re told, and keep your mouth shut about it. Shia was unable to do that…and as a result he is exposed as utterly unemployable in Megadoc. He may work again, but he’ll never work with any director that matters in any movie that matters, ever again. His career is, essentially, over. Good riddance.

Other actors give not-very-good performances but fare much better than LeBeouf as they seem like good people who are fun to work with are Aubrey Plaza, Dustin Hoffman and…believe it or not…Jon Voight.

Ultimately, Megadoc is a much better movie than Megalopolis, which is a scathing indictment of Megalopolis and a tip of the cap to Mike Figgis and his deft documentarian directing abilities.

Megadoc is streaming on the Criterion Channel streaming service. I know most people don’t have that service but let me say that it is essential for any cinephile. The service costs about $100 a year and is well worth it. I watch a lot of movies per year, and the majority of the films I watch are on the Criterion Channel – it is well worth the investment.

In conclusion, Megalopolis is truly terrible. Megadoc is pretty good. My recommendation to get the most out of the experience is to watch Megaloplis first, then watch Megadoc, then watch Megalopolis again. This process might drive you absolutely insane…in fact it should drive you absolutely insane…but if you’re not spending your time trying to figure out the madness of others, then you’ll just be left with only the madness of yourself.

©2025

Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Story - A Review: Please Go Back to Sleep Dead Man

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 1.75 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. If you like the Knives Out formula of convoluted and absurd murder mystery mixed with bad writing and even worse performances, then this movie might be for you. It wasn’t for me.

Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Story, written and directed by Rian Johnson, is the new mystery in the Knives Out franchise that once again features master detective Benoit Blanc solving an impossible case.

Set in a small town in upstate New York, Wake Up Dead Man – which premiered on Netflix on December 12th, revolves around a tyrannical, dare I say it – Trumpian Catholic priest, Monsignor Jefferson Wicks (Josh Brolin), who is surrounded by a tight-knit group of sycophantic parishioners.

Enter into this dynamic a young former boxer turned priest, Jud Duplenticity (Josh O’Connor), sent by a Bishop to try and bring some semblance of Christ and normalcy back into Msgr. Wicks’ parish.

Father Jud runs into lots of resistance from not only Msgr. Wicks but from his coven of adherents. There’s steely church lady Martha Delacroix (Glen Close), alcoholic town Doctor Nat Sharp (Jeremy Renner), former best-selling author turned right-wing loon Lee Ross (Andrew Scott), tightly wound lawyer Vera Draven (Kerry Washington) and her adult son Cy (Daryl McCormack) – an aspiring slimy politician, disabled former concert Cello player Simone Vivane (Cailee Spaeny), and finally church groundskeeper Samson Holt (Thomas Haden Church).

In order to avoid spoilers, I will refrain from going any deeper into the plot so that those that wish may watch the film with as little information about it as I did.

The first Knives Out film came out in 2019 and was a smash hit. People loved it. I loathed it. In fact, I wrote an article about the film shortly after its release that caused quite a kerfuffle.

That article, titled “Knives Out Sharpens the Blade of Anti-White Racism”, pointed out the fact that Knives Out was a not-so-thinly-veiled piece of anti-white racist propaganda. Despite a very angry response from many readers, time has been extraordinarily kind to that piece and to its main thesis.

The second Knives Out movie, Glass Onion – which came out in 2022, was riddled with much of the same sort of trite cultural politics and anti-white animus.

Wake Up Dead Man is not infused with as much anti-white animus as Knives Out or Glass Onion…which is a nice change of pace. It is also surprisingly more even-handed when it comes to Christianity than you would otherwise think.

That said, I still thought it was a bad movie. It was poorly constructed, abysmally executed, politically trite, culturally patronizing, and exceedingly dull…BUT it was the best of the Knives Out movies so far…sort of like being the tallest dwarf.

The best part about the movie is Josh O’Connor who gives a pretty good performance as Fr. Jud – a man trying to come to grips with himself, his God and his purpose and meaning here on earth.

O’Connor does not make for a believable former boxer…but he does make for a believable tormented priest struggling with his consistently frail humanity. So, hats off to Josh O’Connor.

The rest of the cast are…well…pretty atrocious…mostly because they are given a script that is so unforgivably poorly written.

Josh Brolin’s Msgr. Wicks is a pseudo-Trumpian figure and is a caricature’s caricature. Glen Close’s Church Lady is a one-note bore and snore. Andrew Scott’s frustrated writer is like the invisible man…you forget he’s even in the movie. Kerry Washington is, shock of shocks, all righteous indignation – yawn. And Jeremy Renner as the drunk doctor is like a tumbleweed rolling through the festivities unnoticed.

I didn’t even mention Daryl McCormack’s Cy or Thomas Haden Church’s Samson or Cailee Spaeny’s Simone because they are so shallow as characters they don’t even register.

The worst of all is Mila Kunis who plays local police chief Geraldine Scott. Kunis is so bad in this role and so uncomfortable on screen it felt like she was an amateur who won a raffle and the prize was getting cast in the movie.

Speaking of awful…now is when I must comment on Daniel Craig as the world’s greatest detective Benoit Blanc. I admit I greatly enjoyed Craig as James Bond…but I find his Benoit Blanc to be an unamusing, unfunny version of Foghorn Leghorn and Forrest Gump. He also looks like he has had some particularly unfortunate plastic surgery…which was about as well-done as his performance. Yikes. Every moment with Craig on-screen is a moment of cringe.

I must admit that the whodunnit is not really my cup of tea to begin with, and your mileage may vary in regards to that, but the problem with Wake Up Dead Man is not that it’s a mystery but rather that it is so clumsily written and executed.

As I watched the film I was never trying to figure out ‘who did it’ but rather ‘how much longer is this?’ Unfortunately, it has a run time of two hours and twenty-four minutes…and it feels longer.

Another issue with the film is that while it is set in a Catholic church it is more Catholic in aesthetic than in theology. The truth is the film is decidedly Protestant, if not outright Evangelical, and it feels like the Catholic setting is just to make it feel more profound…which amuses me – a Catholic, no end. I mean you really can’t set a murder mystery worth watching in a church in a strip mall, right?

Writer/director Rian Johnson may or may not be a Catholic, I have no idea, but he certainly seems pretty obtuse when it comes to Catholicism.

One thing Johnson does believe in with great faith is making unnecessarily convoluted and absurd murder mysteries saturated in Boomer shit-liberalism that is the left-wing mirror of the mental midgetry of MAGA mindlessness. Good for him?

Ultimately, I did not care about any single person in this film, didn’t care who was killed and who killed them, and why. I just wanted it to end.

Wake Up Dead Man is yet another frivolous and inconsequential piece of pop culture garbage that the mindless masses who confuse mediocrity with mastery and vacuity with verisimilitude will find to be phenomenal.

God help us all.

©2025

Spinal Tap II: The End Continues - A Review: Old Timer's Day

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. You can’t really dust for vomit.

“The bigger the cushion, the sweeter the pushin’, that’s what I said”

Spinal Tap II: The End Continues, directed by Rob Reiner, is a mockumentary that chronicles the return, and farewell, of Spinal Tap – the fictional British heavy metal band made famous in the iconic 1984 mockumentary This is Spinal Tap.

This is Spinal Tap is one of my all-time favorite comedies. Featuring sterling improvisational comedy from its lead trio of geniuses – Michael McKean, Harry Shearer and Christopher Guest, as well as a cornucopia of supreme supporting turns from the likes of Fran Dresher, Paul Shaffer, Bruno Kirby, Billy Crystal and Ed Begley Jr., This is Spinal Tap mastered the mockumentary genre.

Christopher Guest, who plays dim-witted Spinal Tap guitarist Nigel Tufnel, is one of my all-time favorite comedic actors/directors. He made a bevy of mockumentary films in the decades after This is Spinal Tap, which include such glorious gems as Waiting for Guffman (1996) and Best in Show (2000).

All of this is to say that I am a fan of Spinal Tap in general, and Christopher Guest in particular. But even I was shocked when I saw that Guest, McKean and Shearer were getting back together with Rob Reiner to make a sequel to This is Spinal Tap. I mean…why now? Forty years after the original?

“My baby fits me like a flesh tuxedo, I’d like to sink her with pink torpedo”

Spinal Tap II hit theatres back on September 12th and made zero ripples in the pop culture pond and disappeared almost instantly. I didn’t see any marketing for it at all, and its box office was a startlingly low $2.2 million on a $22 million budget.

The film is now available on HBO Max, which is where I checked it out.

“I saw her on Monday, t’was my lucky bun day, you know what I mean”

Let me start off by saying I was rooting for the film because I love the original and Christopher Guest so much. My assessment is thus…the film certainly doesn’t live up to the original, and it doesn’t even really live up to my very low expectations for it.

Christopher Guest is 77 years old, Michael McKean is 78 years old and Harry Shearer is 81 years old…and I think it is safe to say that they have lost their fastballs. These men once threw 100 mph…and now they can barely throw at all. Watching Spinal Tap II is like watching old timer’s day at the ballpark. It’s nice to see the famous old faces wearing their uniforms again but watching them try to play the game and stumble and fall down instead, is a painful and often cringe-filled reminder that Father Time is undefeated.

There are a few funny bits and lines in the film where I chuckled out loud, but those were few and far between. In fact, the scene I found funniest was in the closing credits, which was an odd choice.

“I love her each weekday, each velvety cheek day, you know what I mean”

A big issue with Spinal Tap II is that it undermines the comedic  premise that was the foundation that fueled the original…namely that Spinal Tap are delusional about their abilities and their fame. For example, there’s the scene where they want to say hello to another rock star of the moment at a hotel or airport and they are blown off – an embarrassing moment where their self-delusion is challenged.

In contrast, in this film, Spinal Tap are slavishly adored by such rock royalty as Paul McCartney and Elton John. That’s a cute thing to have these two legends be Spinal Tap fans, but if we are trying to stick with the bit, both McCartney and John would never have heard of Spinal Tap and if they did, they’d laugh at them.

The majority of bits in the film don’t really work, and some of them fall really flat. For example, the film’s opening, where Reiner gives a little talk and then knocks over a bunch of chairs, made me wince as it got the movie off to a very cringe start.

The films meanders along from there, occasionally with a laugh, but usually with a doddering incoherence and comedic flaccidity.

The majority of characters, like concert promoter Simon Howler, or fitness guru Bob Kitness (played by the usually superb John Michael Higgins), are never really fleshed out for their comedic value.

Kerry Godlimen, who plays the daughter of Spinal Tap’s original manager and who has inherited her father’s rights to the band, is terrific comedic actress but is underused and poorly used.

“Big bottom, big bottom, talk about bum cakes, my gals got ‘em”

Unfortunately, the funny moments in Spinal Tap II are never as funny as you want them to be and the less funny moments are so numerous that they are hard to ignore no matter how hard you try.

The original Spinal Tap was chock full of quotable lines, like “it goes to eleven”, “you can’t really dust for vomit”, “shit sandwich”, and unforgettably funny scenes, like Stonehenge and getting lost on the way to the stage, but this new Spinal Tap movie has none of those moments or lines.

Ironically, the new Spinal Tap feels terribly old, while the old Spinal Tap felt incredibly new.

Ultimately, Spinal Tap II is a perfectly harmless movie, and I do admit it was nice to see the boys back together again even though they now look like very old ladies.

“Big bottom, drive me out of my mind, how can I leave this Behind?”

So, if you want to go to the comedy (and rock and roll) nursing home and spend some time watching to three old men who look like old ladies try and fail to capture the truly remarkable magic of their younger years, then check out Spinal Tap II. It is good for a few laughs I suppose.

But if you really, truly want to have a fantastically funny time…go watch the original Spinal Tap, then watch Waiting for Guffman and Best in Show, three of the greatest comedies ever made.

©2025

Caught Stealing: A Review – A Criminally Awful Movie

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 1 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. An instantly forgettable and irritatingly moronic movie that when it isn’t being incoherent is idiotic.

Caught Stealing, directed by Darren Aronofsky and starring Austin Butler, is a “black comedy crime thriller” that follows the travails of Hank (Butler), a former baseball player turned alcoholic bartender who unwittingly gets mixed up with a bevy of New York criminal gangs. 

I vividly remember twenty-five years ago seeing director Darren Aronofsky’s film Requiem for a Dream (2000) - a gritty and cinematic examination of addiction, and immediately thinking, “this guy is gonna be something!”

A quarter of a century later I have been proven absolutely correct in my assessment, Aronofsky has become “something”, but unfortunately the “something” he has become is the feckless hack who made Caught Stealing, one of the more abysmal and idiotic films of the year.

It didn’t have to be this way. Aronofsky, a graduate of the esteemed AFI Conservatory, started out making ambitious arthouse fare like PI (1998), and then graduated to ambitious arthouse projects with some crossover mainstream appeal, such as the previously mentioned Requiem for a Dream, The Fountain (2006), The Wrestler (2008) and Black Swan (2010).

All of these movies were very good…but never quite touched upon greatness…but what they did most of all was showcase Aronofsky’s potential. They left cinephile/film bros like me with the feeling that Aronofsky was going to make the leap one day and become THE GUY.

In 2014 Aronofsky attempted to make that leap to even more mainstream success than he had with The Wrestler and Black Swan, with the big budget movie Noah (2014) starring Russell Crowe – based on the biblical tale.

Noah was a very moderate box office success (it made $359 million - essentially breaking even due to its large budget), but it was a horrendously awful film – just utter garbage from start to finish.

It was at this point that the Aronofsky film bro bubble burst like the deluge that flooded the earth in Noah.

Following Noah, Aronofsky made Mother! (2019), a very ambitious, dare I say experimental, arthouse film starring Jennifer Lawrence (at the height of her powers), and it was universally panned and flopped at the box office. The wheels seemed to be off the wagon at that point.

Aronofsky’s most recent film was The Whale (2022) a truly insipid piece of dramatic detritus that won Brendan Fraser a Best Actor Oscar (yes, that really happened despite all of us forgetting about it…or trying to forget about it).

Despite Aronofsky’s failings on Noah, Mother! and The Whale, at least he was trying…failing but trying. With Caught Stealing, it feels as if the wheels aren’t just off the Aronofsky wagon, but the wheelless wagon is overturned in a ditch and Aronofsky is next to it curled in fetal position weeping uncontrollably in a pile of horse manure.

For such a promising talent like Aronofsky to make such a dead-eyed, instantly forgettable, truly idiotic piece of trash like Caught Stealing isn’t just disappointing, it is frightening. I mean, if he could fall so low as to make this movie, how low could the rest of us fall in our own lives? Yes, I am sure Aronofsky was paid more to make this movie than I’ve ever made in my entire life…but you get my point.

Caught Stealing is lazy and stupid and useless. It is a “black comedy” that is allergic to being funny. It is a crime thriller devoid of thrills.

The script, written by Charlie Huston - based upon his book of the same name, is incoherent and moronic. There are all sorts of incomprehensible plot twists and a cornucopia of caricatures in place of characters, and none of it makes sense or even remotely captivates or compels.

The performances all feel like something out of a sixth-grade talent show.

Austin Butler is supposed to be the next big thing. I was believing the hype on young Austin, as I thought he was good in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, Elvis, and Dune II. But let me tell you…after seeing Butler’s star turn in Caught Stealing I have come to realize he ain’t no burgeoning movie star. He might be a successful supporting actor type guy, but he can’t carry a movie to save his life.

Butler is brutally bad as Hank. He is obviously hampered by the trite and inane script, but Butler does himself no favors with a lifeless and mannered performance. He is so devoid of charisma and screen presence they would’ve been better served casting an inanimate carbon rod in the role instead.

Other once promising actors find themselves wallowing in the same shit script as Butler…as Regina King, Zoe Kravitz, Matt Smith, Liev Schreiber, Griffin Dune, Carol Kane and my old friend Vincent D’Onofrio all turn in gruesomely amateurish performances that sully their reputations.

Caught Stealing bombed at the box office, making $32 million on a $65 million budget, and is now streaming on Netflix, which is where I saw it. The film runs an hour and forty-seven minutes, and is right at home among the usual mindless Netflix slop. This is the type of movie you watch while scrolling on your phone or while having sex with your girlfriend on the couch after your parents go to bed early.

I wish Darren Aronofsky was good. I wanted Darren Aronofsky to be great. But Darren Aronofsky isn’t good and he isn’t great…he’s the guy who made the thoughtless, mindless, worthless Caught Stealing. How disheartening.

©2025

Jay Kelly: A Review - George Clooney as George Clooney in an Underwhelming George Clooney Film

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT/SEE IT. If you love the George Clooney Experience, you’ll find this harmless and rather hapless film to be a pleasant experience…if Clooney is not your cup of tea, this lukewarm gruel will go down like bad milk.

Jay Kelly, starring George Clooney and Adam Sandler, is a dramedy that tells the story of a somewhat fictional actor - considered the last of the great Hollywood movie stars, coming to grips with his life and career.

The film, written by Noah Baumbach and Emily Mortimer and directed by Baumbach, premiered on Netflix on December 5th.

Jay Kelly is essentially A Christmas Carol for the Hollywood sect, as it’s the tale of a Hollywood star having an existential crisis being visited by the ghosts of his Hollywood past and present…and maybe future.

The film masquerades as a search for profundity but is actually a cloying and treacly exercise in mawkishness wrapped in self-pitying movie star charm and insider winks.

Jay Kelly is no doubt designed to elicit knowing nods and hopefully some nominations from the movie industry insiders it dramatizes and humanizes – a wise strategic maneuver by both Baumbach and Clooney as the narcissism capitol of the world - Hollywood loves, nothing more than movies about itself. The problem though is that I don’t think Jay Kelly is going to win any Oscars despite its narrative pandering, mostly because it just isn’t particularly good.

The film is sort of a poor man’s attempt at Robert Altman. It would be too generous to call it Altman-esque, or even Altman-lite…but let’s just say it has some stylistic flourishes – in the party and group scenes for instance, that somewhat resemble the work of Robert Altman.

The structure of Jay Kelly, which features a series of flashbacks, is less than compelling. Watching Clooney watch an actor play a younger version of himself is amateurish at best, and ridiculous at worst.

The film is also deeply marinated in a saccharine sentimentality that irritates. Jay Kelly is, besides being a movie star, a bad father, bad friend and overall bad person…so this story is reduced to “poor little rich boy feels bad”.

The same is true of Adam Sandler’s character – Ron, who is Jay’s manager and he apparently really “loves” him…but this love never seems earned or genuine despite it being told to the audience over and over that it is.

In this way the snake pit that is Hollywood is glossed over in favor of a sort of silly and goofy take on the truly vile villains who inhabit the place – who actually see human beings as nothing more than pieces of meat to exploit for personal profit, rather than as “members of the family”.

George Clooney has at times been called the last movie star – a label I would vociferously argue against (that title might go to Leonardo DiCaprio – but maybe not even him), so his playing essentially a version of himself – or at least a version of his public self, is a mildly intriguing premise.

Clooney’s career, or more particularly, his movie stardom, has always been a mystery to me. I understand that he is a good-looking and charming guy, but he isn’t that good-looking or that charming to have become the massive movie star he did.

The truth is that Clooney is not a very good actor (and don’t get me started on Clooney as director - YIKES!). The proof of this is easily discovered if you watch the plethora of movies he’s made – most of which are pretty sub-par too. Instead of listing the cavalcade of films he’s made that stink, I’ll just list the ones worth seeing – a much more manageable list. Three Kings, Michael Clayton, The American…that’s it, that’s the list.

That Clooney, a talent-deficient, pseudo-nepo baby (his aunt is Rosemary Clooney), could go from being a two-bit tv actor to a movie star seemingly overnight speaks to something broken in the system…and Clooney’s massive failing over the last decade or more a symptom of the disease of sub-mediocrity ravaging Hollywood.

Clooney’s lone super power appears to be his unrelenting ambition – how American of him. In some ways he is, and he will shudder at this comparison – the Hollywood version of Donald Trump…all hat and no cattle so to speak.

Perusing Clooney’s filmography – which shows that over the last dozen years he hasn’t made a single relevant film, reveals that whether his star status was ever earned or not – it is certainly now hemorrhaging…and Jay Kelly is a last-ditch effort to stop the bleeding.

In some ways Jay Kelly succeeds in being a tourniquet, a short-term fix to temporarily stop the bleeding. Clooney, who always seems to play himself in films, once again plays himself – an aging movie star adored for being a charming fellow who plays himself…sort of like a mirror reflected into a mirror reflected into a mirror and on and on. Admittedly…that is very clever.

Clooney does Clooney things throughout…he smirks and tilts his head and does a bunch of silly running (a cloying Clooney signature). But here’s the thing about Clooney’s “charming” performance…it is demonstrably better than the movie surrounding him.

Baumbach struggles to find a coherent tone and a coherent narrative throughout, but there are a bevy of sequences which are baffling in both their creation and execution. For example, there’s a train sequence that is so awful it made my teeth hurt. There’s also a bizarre side story regarding an old classmate that could have been something but was turned into absolutely nothing. The same is true of a long lost love interest.

And then there is Adam Sandler. Sandler plays Jay’s manager Ron. Ron is the picture of patience and thoughtfulness. He has a wife and kids at home that he doesn’t spend enough time with because he is always doing stuff for Jay Kelly. He even neglects his other clients because he has to handle Jay Kelly.

Sandler is, at best, grating in the role. But to be fair, I find Adam Sandler grating every time I see him. Sandler, like Clooney, is a star whose success I find to be a complete and utter mystery. He isn’t funny, he isn’t interesting, he isn’t talented and he isn’t original. He is a waste of space, so much so that if it were up to me - he’d be melted down and we’d start over from scratch.

Sandler does his usual schmaltzy shtick of soft talking and sad eyes as Ron, and it hits with about as much dramatic power as a week-old dog turd baking by the side of the road.

As off-putting as Sandler is, the real problem with Jay Kelly is Noah Baumbach. Baumbach has made some interesting films in his time – and by some, I mean two…The Squid and the Whale and While We’re Young.

Baumbach isn’t a visual stylist, he’s more of a wordsmith…but the problem is he’s not that good of a writer. His stories are more often than not narratively trite and reek of an arthouse desperation that feels palpably mainstream in its execution. In other words, Baumbach is an arthouse poseur, who makes third-rate, middlebrow muck for the masses while pretending to be an cool-kid auteur.

Jay Kelly is not the worst film ever made. It has a certain charm about it, which is probably the same undefinable charm that has kept George Clooney on the A-list in Hollywood for the last twenty-five years or so.

Some people will love Jay Kelly as it is lukewarm pablum that can be digested with ease and little effort. I am not one of those people.

That said, if you are looking to spend a breezy two-hours and twelve minutes with George Clooney being George Clooney pretending to have an existential crisis…then I genuinely think you’ll enjoy Jay Kelly and encourage you to check it out as it is harmless enough.

As for me…if I ever get the urge to watch George Clooney…I’ll rewatch The American or Michael Clayton…thank you very much.

©2025

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota: Episode 144 - Eddington

On this scintillating episode, Barry and I don our tinfoil hats and go down the rabbit hole to debate the merits of Ari Aster's neo-Western Covid comedy/thriller Eddington. Topics discussed include the Covid/#MeToo/BLM hysteria, Joaquin Phoenix's brilliance, Barry's lust for Austin Butler, and the bizarre and mesmerizing wonders of this peculiar, yet terrific, movie. 

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota: Episode 144 - Eddington

Thanks for listening!

©2025