Grade: B minus

Original Screenplay Weekend, Again: Honey Don’t, Eden, and Relay

Jeremy BeckReviews
Ana de Armas in Eden, Margaret Qualley in Honey Don't, Riz Ahmed in Relay

The top grosser at the box office last weekend was a sing-along version of KPop Demon Hunters, Netflix’s animated phenomenon about a girl-pop trio who use their musical talents to battle demons disguised as a boy band. I’m not lamenting this; it’s a mostly charming movie, and it’s nice to see any Netflix product in theaters, even if that company remains philosophically committed to eradicating the very existence of cinema. KPop Demon Hunters is also an original work, meaning its success derives from thoughtful artistry and word-of-mouth rather than by leveraging intellectual property.

Not every new release last weekend was so triumphant. Look considerably lower down the box-office chart, and you’ll find the debut of three movies with original screenplays that combined to gross less than one-third of Demon Hunters’ $19M. (I’m ignoring Splitsville, which played in just five theaters across the country.) When I last performed this exercise in 2021, I expressed gratitude that original pictures had returned to theaters as the industry rebounded from the COVID-19 pandemic. Four years later, I’m less optimistic about our cinematic future. But let’s celebrate (and evaluate) what we’ve got, while we’ve still got it. Read More

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The Fantastic Four, First Steps: Blue Is the Stormest Color

Jeremy BeckReviews
Ebon Moss Bachrach, Vanessa Kirby, Pedro Pascal, and Joseph Quinn in The Fantastic Four First Steps

Things are different on Earth-828. I’m not talking about the laws of physics or the division of diplomatic supremacy or the popularity of late-night talk shows; all of that stuff is basically the same. (OK, maybe the talk show thing is a bad example.) No, what’s really jarring about this multiversal variant is that on this planet, nobody has ever heard of The Avengers.

Such ignorance is, if not exactly bliss, at least a small mercy. The Fantastic Four: First Steps is the fourth feature to depict Jack Kirby and Stan Lee’s superpowered quartet, but it’s the first to formally integrate them into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Yet any proper crossover that pairs this new/old foursome with our more established caped heroes—an upcoming collaboration that’s teased in the stingers to both this film and Thunderbolts—will need to wait. This movie, for all its interstellar escapades and cosmic hand-wringing, is a relatively self-contained adventure, disregarding the extant members of the MCU and instead focusing exclusively on these four playful, imperiled heroes. Read More

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F1: Rogue Fun, a Car Wars Story

Jeremy BeckReviews
Brad Pitt and Damson Idris in F1

Pay attention to the tennis balls. As a middle-of-the-road racing picture, F1 supplies the expected zoom-zoom accoutrements: checkered flags, roaring engines, heavy tires frantically drilled into mighty chassis. But the most symbolically meaningful piece of sports paraphernalia on display is the set of yellow-green spheres that the film’s hero routinely bounces against a wall in order to test his reaction time. His facility may be equipped with a fancy electronic dummy that measures responses down to the millisecond, but he has no need for such new-age flourishes. He’s old-school.

So, in some ways, is F1, even if its presentation is also robustly contemporary. As a piece of storytelling, the movie is painfully obvious and familiar—a clumsy grab-bag of buddy comedy, underdog melodrama, and other hoary templates. But despite its thinness and its predictability, F1 isn’t without its durable pleasures. It has been muscularly directed by Joseph Kosinski, and it affords the satisfaction of watching talented actors execute their assignments with warmth and precision. Read More

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Better Man: Diary of a Chimpy Kid

Jeremy BeckReviews
A scene from Better Man

The story of an artist’s rise and fall and rise again, Better Man is in many ways a thoroughly typical picture. Like most musical biopics, it conforms to a three-act structure, dutifully following its hero’s rags-to-riches trajectory while interspersing boisterous performances of the songs that made them famous. Like most musical biopics, it juxtaposes euphoric highs (the thrill of nailing an audition, the joy of climbing the charts) with crippling lows (drug abuse, daddy issues). And like most musical biopics, it aims to provide a three-dimensional portrait of its subject while still ultimately lionizing them. In fact, Better Man is like most musical biopics in virtually every way. Except one.

I generally try to go into movies as cold as possible, but I’m wondering how a truly oblivious ticket-buyer might feel upon randomly selecting a screening of Better Man, settling in for the opening voiceover (in which its protagonist declares that he’s been called “narcissistic” and “punchable”), and then watching as the camera focuses on… a monkey. Not an actual monkey—a computer-generated chimpanzee who otherwise walks, talks, and behaves like a human, to the point where nobody remarks on his biological dissimilarity. Even the kids in Paddington acknowledge that they live with a bear. All of the characters here are either extraordinarily tolerant or exceedingly near-sighted. Read More

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Babygirl: Breaking the Crass Ceiling

Jeremy BeckReviews
Harris Dickinson and Nicole Kidman in Babygirl

Screw delayed gratification: Babygirl opens with the sound of a woman moaning in apparent pleasure before its vanity card even appears. (I get it, I like A24 movies too.) Then its first frame shows her enthusiastically riding her husband before they collapse onto the sheets and embrace, whispering sweet nothings, having been mutually satisfied… or at least that’s what he thinks. As her partner falls asleep, the woman discreetly slinks into the adjoining room, fires up her laptop, and masturbates to pornography, muffling her own gasps to avoid waking anyone. The implication is obvious: Whatever she’s getting in bed ain’t cutting it. She needs more.

That sense of need—of pure, bottomless craving—is what animates Babygirl, Halina Reijn’s strange, messy, intriguing new psychodrama. It’s a movie about the paralyzing quality of desire—how coveting something forbidden can upend even the most carefully cultivated lives. The body may want what it wants, but the brain knows that our wants can get us into trouble. Read More

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