After the Hunt review: Sexual Behavior in the Human Yale

Julia Roberts and Andrew Garfield in After the Hunt

Like everyone else, the title is hiding something. The prepositional phrase “after the hunt” implies an event followed by an aftermath: cause and effect. Yet one of the purported insights of this intriguing, frustrating movie is that contemporary life is a pinwheel of controversy and catastrophe—a perpetual cycle of predation, victimization, and antagonism. After this hunt is over, another one is sure to follow. And eventually, they’ll come for you.

Who are “they,” exactly? After the Hunt, which was directed by Luca Guadagnino from a script by Nora Garrett, supplies no shortage of potential bogeymen. The woke mob. Coastal elites. Old white men encrusted with privilege. Young Black women exploiting affirmative action. Out-of-touch shrinks who don’t know the difference between The Doors and The Smiths. Bearded professors. Protesting students. Queer people. (Seriously, at one point somebody snarls at a non-binary character, “Beat it, they!”) Read More

Tron: Ares review: Jet with the Program

Greta Lee, Jared Leto, and Arturo Castro in Tron: Ares

There has never been a good Tron movie. But Ares, the third installment in this baffling techno-obsessed franchise, is probably the least bad of the bunch. It retains the series’ sleek, color-coded aesthetic while also taking steps to minimize its mythological inanity. Calling it smart would be a stretch, but it reflects enough considered thought to qualify as sensible debugging.

Not that the storytelling in Ares is especially persuasive, or even interesting. In an accidental flirtation with topicality, its screenplay (by Jesse Wigutow) contemplates the rewards and costs of artificial intelligence. Corporate warfare has broken out over the search for “the permanence code,” an electronic MacGuffin that will allow digitized creations to attain lasting physical form. On one side of this commercial conflict is Eve (Greta Lee), an environmentally conscious entrepreneur who longs to continue the work of her deceased sister, envisioning the code as a vehicle for medical and scientific breakthroughs. On the other is Dillinger (Evan Peters), an industrial scion who dreams of commodifying and militarizing the technology; when we first meet him, he’s demoing its capabilities to a brigade of generals who salivate at the notion of a powerful and indefatigable soldier who executes all commands without question. Eve, in contrast, wants to make an orange grove whose trees always bear fruit. You earn no points for guessing which character is the movie’s chief villain. Read More

Jurassic World Rebirth: Yawn of the Dinosaurs

Jonathan Bailey and Scarlett Johansson in Jurassic World Rebirth

Do people still like dinosaurs? The box office data would seem to say so, but the deflated characters of the new Jurassic World movie aren’t so sure. “Nobody cares about these animals anymore,” bemoans Dr. Henry Loomis (Jonathan Bailey), the curator of a prehistoric museum with flagging attendance. Shortly before, we learn that a brachiosaur has escaped from confinement in New York City, yet while the sight of a mighty beast roaming the Big Apple’s sidewalks might have once provoked astonishment or panic, now it results in a simple traffic jam. The return of ancient “terrible lizards” to contemporary civilization is no longer cause for wonder or terror. It’s just an annoyance.

The chief innovation (or regression) of this latest episode in the Jurassic World franchise—which is subtitled Rebirth, and which has been directed by Gareth Edwards from a script by David Koepp—is that it’s aware of its own potential obsolescence. Now that hulking computer-generated monsters are pro forma in mainstream cinema, a new Jurassic flick has little hope of conjuring the sense of majesty that accompanied Steven Spielberg’s 1993 classic. So despite some cheeky references to that picture—the shot of a car’s mirror with its famous “Objects are closer than they appear” warning; a faded banner proclaiming “When dinosaurs ruled the earth”—Rebirth doesn’t attempt to match its conceptual grandeur or vast ambition. It’s a blockbuster about huge creatures that keeps things relatively small. Read More

Bring Her Back: Foster, It’s Australian for Fear

Sally Hawkins and Jonah Wren Phillips in Bring Her Back

For two guys who cut their teeth making YouTube videos, Danny and Michael Philippou are curiously retro when it comes to horror iconography. Their first feature, the indie hit Talk to Me, fashioned its inciting instrument as a large ceramic hand, one that facilitated spiritual possession through the nigh-quaint process of physical connection. Their follow-up, Bring Her Back, opens with grainy VHS footage depicting an enigmatic ritual whose significance won’t be established until some time later. The movie features a fair number of scares, but the biggest jolt for this Xennial was remembering just how frustrating it was to futz with the tracking setting on a VCR.

This doesn’t mean the Philippous are classicists. But they aren’t exactly modernists either; their skills and shortcomings could easily belong in any era of horror filmmaking. Bring Her Back confirms their talents as purveyors of mood, taking place in an unsettling surreality where the vibes are always off and your danger sensor is constantly on. As a piece of evocative atmosphere, it’s quite creepy. As a work of dramatic storytelling, it’s stillborn. Read More

The Accountant 2: In Autism’s Life, No Second Tax

Jon Bernthal and Ben Affleck in The Accountant 2

The Accountant 2 could’ve been a pretty good movie, if it weren’t a sequel to The Accountant. It’s best suited as a hangout picture, sporting playful dialogue, a light comic touch, and a pair of appealing performances. Yet because this emergent franchise made its bones as a hot-blooded crime yarn, it subjugates its mild-mannered strengths in favor byzantine plotting and stale gunplay. It’s guilty of genre evasion.

Yet the Hollywood IP machine cranks on, and there are worse figures to resuscitate than Christian Wolff, the autistic genius and assassin who first appeared on screen nine years ago in the hunky, bespectacled form of Ben Affleck. The decade away hasn’t improved Christian’s social skills: When we first catch up with him, he’s the eye of a speed-dating hurricane, only we learn that single ladies are throwing themselves at him because he hacked the app’s algorithm; once he opens his mouth and starts rambling about appreciating assets, their excitement quickly curdles into dismay. Read More