The Flash

Director: Andrew Muschietti 
Starring: Ezra Miller, Sasha Calle, Michael Shannon, Ron Livingston, Maribel Verdú, Kiersey Clemons, Antje Traue, Michael Keaton, George Clooney, Jeremy Irons, Temuera Morrison, Saoirse-Monica Jackson, Rudy Mancuso 
Running Time: 144 min.
Rating: PG-13

**The Following Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers For 'The 'Flash' **

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

Contained within director Andrew Muschietti's The Flash are glimpses of the project Warner Bros. hoped could give DC's Extended Universe the ammunition it needed to redefine an overexposed genre and finally compete with Marvel. And despite roadblocks like its lead star's highly publicized legal troubles and the announcement of this as a closing chapter of the current DCEU, a genuine sense of optimism did surround that very real belief.

Using the 2011 comic crossover "Flashpoint" for inspiration, this was touted as a sci-fi driven time travel story marking the triumphant return of Michael Keaton as Batman, as well as a handful of other familiar faces. It's also a tale of two movies, as its emotionally resonant central plot is derailed by what sometimes feels like committee-approved fan service. That would be its biggest flaw, if not for the spotty visual effects that take over a memorable final act bustling with AI generated cameos of legends past. 

While there are still some really good ideas in here, it probably comes as little surprise that the film's biggest assets aren't a pair of bickering Barry Allens around which the majority of the action revolves, but Keaton's Batman and an impressive new Supergirl. It might be worth seeing just for their performances, even if each would be better served by a standalone entry of their own. But now, given The Flash's underwhelming reception and a misjudged ending, it's possible neither actor gets an opportunity to play these characters again. And that's the biggest disappointment in what turns out to be a fascinatingly mixed bag. 

In present day, forensic investigator and Justice League member Barry Allen/The Flash (Miller) still carries the trauma over his father Henry's (Ron Livingston) wrongful imprisonment for the murder of his mother Nora (Maribel Verdú) when he was young. Desperately trying to clear his dad's name, a conversation with former college crush and current journalist Iris West (Kiersey Clemons) gives Barry the idea to use the Speed Force to travel back in time and prevent his mom's death. Dismissing dire warnings from friend Bruce Wayne/Batman (Ben Affleck) that changing this could carry disastrous consequences, he goes anyway, attempting to save her in the least disruptive way possible to the timeline. 

Barry's trip is wrought with complications, as he's suddenly stuck in an alternate 2013 with mother Nora still alive, but coming face-to-face with his college-aged self the day he gained the Flash powers. Trapped in an alternate universe without the Justice League, both Barrys must work together to thwart General Zod's (Michael Shannon) invasion of Earth. But they'll need help, which may come from an older version of Bruce Wayne/Batman (Keaton), who they coax out of retirement in hopes of locating Superman. But after instead discovering his imprisoned cousin, Kara Zor-El/Supergirl (Sasha Calle), all four must work together to topple Zod and undo the catastrophic damage Barry accidentally caused.

There are definite parallels to what Marvel recently did with 2021's Spider-Man: No Way Home in incorporating multiverses and various versions of canonical characters. But in some sense, this contrasts what Marvel usually gets right, with DC buckling under the pressure to adopt that model rather than chart a different course. But while this plot draws from a highly regarded comic, a more noticeable influence is Back To The Future, or more directly, the paradoxical Part II. And even as the screenplay fully acknowledges its debt to the trilogy with a number of shout outs and a clever gag involving the aborted casting of Eric Stoltz, we're reminded just how high a bar this is trying to clear.

That Barry's well-intentioned quest involves a parent's death only compounds the butterfly effect, adding personal weight to Batman's involvement since it's a tragedy he knows all too well. Where problems arise are in execution, or rather the mind-numbing interaction between the two Barrys, which becomes the definition of beating a good joke into the ground. The idea of current day Barry showing his reckless and irresponsible younger counterpart the ropes after losing the powers his past self gains does work in principle. But present Barry must have the patience of a saint since this kid's unhinged behavior really tests the nerves, turning a situation initially ripe for comic possibility into the lost Multiplicity sequel no one wanted.

Though Miller excels at playing both and it's the least jarring effects work in the picture, you'll still be counting down the minutes until Keaton arrives. Until then, get used to seeing Barry stuffing his face with calories to maintain his super speed and arguing with the older doppelganger. And there's a nauseating amount of running inside, outside and everywhere else before the two arrive at Wayne Manor to find a reclusive, unkempt Bruce, who clearly hasn't seen much crimefighting since 1992. Initially showing little interest in donning the cape and cowl once more, his change of heart is unusually sudden, but welcome, since the over 70 year-old Keaton slides back into this iconic role as if no time passed at all. 

Not only does the entire film temporarily improve ten-fold with Keaton's arrival, the feuding Barrys become more tolerable when he subtly steps in as a mediator and guiding force. The best scenes take place within in the desolate batcave as the three formulate a plan to retrieve Superman in Siberia and restore older Barry's powers. Of course, it all provides the opportunity to again witness Keaton believably kick ass in the batsuit, putting to shame Affleck's sleepy performance from earlier. 

Michael Shannon looks bored to tears, possibly because the Zod plot feels shoehorned in as an excuse to tie the DC universe together and bring in auxiliary characters. Thankfully, we have Supergirl, played by an actress who redefines the big screen presentation of Kara. From the short pixie cut to that stone cold death stare, Sasha Calle is a real find, conveying an ideal combination of grit and vulnerability, more than proving herself deserving of another shot at this. Unfortunately, due the film's performance and DC's pigheaded future plans to recast every role in sight, she may not get it.

The visual effects do few favors for anyone, but as insane as the last act is, it at least differs from your usual 40 to 45 minute CGI superhero slugfest by centering around an Edge of Tomorrow-like time loop. And it might be fun to poll fans still sore over Luke Skywalker's treatment in The Last Jedi to find out if they're just as disgruntled about how Keaton's arc wraps. It's unlikely they'll care since anything that happens (or doesn't) in superhero multiverses can usually just be wiped out in the blink of an eye. Let's hope that's the case with this Batman and Supergirl, possibly keeping the door open for future appearances after all.

When Barry regains his powers and reenters the Speed Force alongside his 2013 self, this hurls toward a trippy ending that speaks to obsessing over what wasn't. Put in an unenviable position of accepting the lowest moment of his life in order to selflessly prevent worse, the two Barrys get a whirlwind tour of DC's past. This includes the likes of George Reeves and Christopher Reeve's Superman, Helen Slater's Supergirl, Adam West's Batman, audio samplings from Cesar Romero and Jack Nicholson's Joker, and in the deepest cut, Nicolas Cage's Superman from Tim Burton's unproduced Superman Lives. 

Though a few of these appearances bring back bad deepfake memories of Princess Leia in Rogue One, the technology has improved since, with the noticeable exception of a scarily de-aged Cage. Still, it's a moment, in addition to the powerful one Barry shares with his mom that shows how involving this story is when staying the course. The final scene exemplifies that mishmash of tones, with the filmmakers going for a self-referential joke that's not quite as amusing as they think. Supposedly, the original plan was for Keaton to step out of that car instead of Clooney, which would have resulted in a far more satisfying payoff. But at least the latter makes the most of his admittedly goofy Bruce Wayne cameo.

It may be messy, but Keaton and Calle shine, which isn't a knock on Ezra Miller, who excels in a tricky dual role that the writers go comically overboard with. And you start to wonder if those accusations about DC's lack of direction are true and whether this was worth the studio suffering through all that bad press. Superhero fatigue or not, the stakes seemed higher than usual, reinforcing how difficult it is to unlock an event movie's fullest potential. Extended portions of The Flash come close, providing a valuable look at what could have been under better circumstances.                                                      

Asteroid City

Director: Wes Anderson
Starring: Jason Schwartzman, Scarlett Johansson, Tom Hanks, Jeffrey Wright, Tilda Swinton, Bryan Cranston, Edward Norton, Adrien Brody, Liev Schreiber, Hope Davis, Stephen Park, Rupert Friend, Maya Hawke, Steve Carell, Matt Dillon, Hong Chau, Willem Dafoe, Margot Robbie, Tony Revolori, Jake Ryan, Grace Edwards, Aristou Meehan, Sophia Lillis, Ethan Josh Lee, Jeff Goldblum
Running Time: 105 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

The style vs. substance debate that's followed Wes Anderson throughout his career again rears its head with Asteroid City, an ambitious effort from a very distinctive filmmaker sure to split critics and audiences down the middle. He must be used to it by now, considering how each new release is accompanied by conversations about how Andersonian it really is. For rabid devotees, there's no such thing as too much, whereas just a couple of minutes is more than enough for the harshest detractors. But even as his singular aesthetic still prompts accusations of superficial repetitiveness, few contemporary directors have amassed a body of work so instantly recognizable. No matter what you think of it.  

For all the SNL skits or viral video spoofs, making a Wes Anderson picture is a market he'll always have cornered because there's an underlying sincerity to what he does that no one's been able to duplicate. Even when the execution seems like a parody of itself, there's more there. It's especially true of his best efforts like Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums, where style and substance overlap in character-driven stories that go to deeper, rawer places many feel he hasn't returned to since. The jury's still out on where this one lands, but it's definitely a departure of sorts. Or at least as much of a departure as we've gotten from the divisive director in a long time. 

The film's retro futuristic desert setting is a hugely impressive visual achievement brought to surreal life by Robert Yeoman's cinematography and Adam Stockhausen's production design. But there's also a meta layer that distinguishes it, as a stacked cast pulls double duty in both a black-and-white TV documentary special of a play and the play's events, presented in vibrant color. It's also a pastiche of postwar Americana, UFO paranoia and old Hollywood moviemaking that further explores the themes of grief and ostracization constantly present in Anderson's output. In other words, there's a lot to unpack.

The film opens in black-and-white as a TV host (Bryan Cranston) introduces renowned playwright Conrad Earp's (Edward Norton) production of "Asteroid City," a play that takes place in a fictional 1955 desert town of the same name. In it, war photographer Augie Steenbeck (Jason Schwartzman) arrives with his intellectual teen son Woodrow (Jake Ryan) and three daughters at the Junior Stargazer convention where Woodrow is being honored. But Augie's inability to tell the kids of their mother's recent death complicates his already fragile relationship with curmudgeonly father-in-law Stanley (Tom Hanks). 

Also in town is Midge Campbell (Scarlett Johansson), a famous, melancholy actress whose teen daughter Dinah (Grace Edwards) is also being recognized at the convention. Among the other attendees are elementary school teacher June Douglas (Maya Hawke) and her class, a cowboy band led by a singer named Montana (Rupert Friend), the brilliant but eccentric astronomer Dr. Hickenlooper (Tilda Swinton) and five star General Grif Gibson (Jeffrey Wright). 

When a major extraterrestrial event inexplicably occurs during the awards presentation, the U.S. government frantically intervenes to contain the site and quarantine witnesses in town. We're also shown glimpses of the TV special detailing the play's evolution, as the actors struggle to make sense of their roles, most notably Schwartzman's Jones Hall, who helplessly turns to director Schubert Green (Adrien Brody) for creative guidance.

It isn't clear where the story's going for much of the first forty minutes, or even if it's headed in a direction that would set it apart from what we've already seen from Anderson. And despite his penchant for attracting huge names, the involvement of Hanks and Johansson doesn't necessarily signify we're in for something especially unique, as sometimes even the biggest stars have taken back seats to the framing and visual presentation of his pictures. And this one is mind-blowing, shot by Yeoman with a bright, oversaturated artificiality that recalls 50's Westerns like Bad Day at Black Rock. 

As usual with Anderson, the actors dryly deliver their lines with a kind of detached bemusement that almost implies they're playing imitations or mockeries of themselves. Only the real kicker this time is that they actually are. The "play within a play" conceit allow the actors to carry aspects of their performer's uncertainty toward the material into the actual roles, adding an important contextual layer. This works especially well with Schwartzman and Johansson, who delicately depict Augie and Midge's ambivalence toward each another, dancing around their feelings before eventually connecting on a deeper level. Schwartzman's nuanced turn has you wondering why he isn't cast more often as a lead while Johansson perfectly captures this moody, morose Hollywood starlet with an edge. 

Once the UFO event unfolds with the appearance of a wacky looking alien, the script's characters really start to wrestle with various forms of loneliness and uncertainty. And like many Anderson films, it celebrates the quirky outsider, as the Junior Stargazers are far more tuned in and observant than any of their parents, scientists and especially government officials. Those Moonrise Kingdom vibes are definitely present in Woodrow and Dinah's relationship, while the film still manages to incorporate an endless parade of well known faces without it coming across as a stunt.

Hanks, Hawke and Swinton make the most impact with what they're handed and even the smaller parts occupied by Hope Davis, Liev Schreiber and Willem Dafoe humorously fill out the corners of this bizarre world. If there's a true highlight, it's Margot Robbie's sensational single scene opposite Schwartzman, which ties the movie's metaverse in knots to gain invaluably greater insight into Augie and the actor who plays him. Most assumed Hanks' cranky part was originally intended for Bill Murray, but the latter was actually cast as Steve Carell's motel manager before having to pull out. Regardless, Hanks puts his own spin on Stanley and Carell's tiny role would likely be a waste of Murray anyway. 

From the moment an entertainingly deadpan Cranston appears on screen channeling Rod Serling in a Playhouse 90-style special, it's apparent we're in for a rarer breed of nostalgic escape than Anderson usually delivers. A single viewing of Asteroid City won't determine its ranking in his filmography or win over doubters, but much of what the trailer hinted at pans out with Anderson flair, again making it difficult to separate the filmmaker from his creation. But like these characters, we'll just have to accept that understanding everything isn't the goal, or really even necessary at all.

80 for Brady

Director: Kyle Marvin
Starring: Lily Tomlin, Jane Fonda, Rita Moreno, Sally Field, Tom Brady, Billy Porter, Harry Hamlin, Guy Fieri, Alex Moffat, Rob Corddry, Glynn Turman, Ron Funches, Bob Balaban, Jimmy O. Yang, Matt Lauria, Sara Gilbert, Sally Kirkland, Andy Richter, Patton Oswalt, Retta
Running Time: 98 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

When everyone heard that now retired NFL legend Tom Brady would be producing and acting in a major motion picture, this probably wasn't what they had in mind. But 80 for Brady is exactly the type of mainstream, inoffensive comedy he'd likely latch onto, allowing the former quarterback to easily dip into entertainment waters while playing off his popularity. If it flopped, no big deal. If not, even better. Very loosely based on a true story about a foursome of senior citizens who travel to Houston to watch their hero play in Super Bowl LI, it actually turns out far better than expected. 

What succeeds can be attributed to its lead actresses, all of whom make the most of a fairly ridiculous premise. More jokes hit than don't and director Kyle Marvin keeps things moving fast enough that you're not aggravated by its missteps, which are surprisingly few. Providing a service to the industry by catering to an underrepresented population of older female moviegoers, those fully prepared for disaster will be relieved this isn't the abomination its cringe worthy trailers and TV spots hinted at.

It's 2017 and elderly best friends Lou (Lily Tomlin), Trish (Jane Fonda), Maura (Rita Moreno) and Betty (Sally Field) are all New England Patriots fans, having gathered weekly for the past fifteen years to cheer on quarterback Tom Brady. While making plans for their Super Bowl LI watch party, they decide to enter a sports radio contest rewarding the best story of Patriots fandom with free tickets to the big game in Houston. 

After discovering they've won, getting there and holding onto the tickets prove to be a challenge when a myriad of obstacles stand in their way. Determined to see this through, they stumble upon various hijinks at the NFL Experience while also getting caught up in the celebrity-filled events taking place over that weekend. With each navigating rough patches in their personal lives, the trip isn't only a needed escape from the stresses back home, but possibly one of their final chances for a wild adventure. And they've come too far to turn back now.  

Given the onslaught of jokes and sight gags that come a mile a minute, it's kind of surprising how many manage to land, thanks mostly to these actresses, whose collective talents help elevate a decent amount of ridiculousness. In a refreshing change, the women are rarely the butt of insults about their ages, and when it happens, they're usually the ones dishing that out. The characters aren't complex and shouldn't be, but the script makes a decent enough go at giving them meaningful backstories, allowing the four to just run with it, as we know they can.  

Tomlin's Lou is a cancer survivor who's partially using the trip to avoid her latest test results, Fonda's Trish is a former beauty queen unlucky in love, Moreno's Maura is living in a nursing home by choice while still grieving her husband's death and Field's retired MIT professor Betty seems to be the most well-adjusted of the group, at least when not attending to her needy husband (Bob Balaban). 

If pushed to choose, Trish's subplot involving her publication of Rob Gronkowski fan fiction and a burgeoning relationship with a former Patriots player (Harry Hamlin) is probably the least effective. But even here, the character isn't written as some vain, aging narcissist and Fonda adds just the right dose of sarcastic cleverness to the role.

All of them do a fine job believably bouncing off each other, especially Grace and Frankie co-stars Fonda and Tomlin, whose TV chemistry translates to this bigger stage. And Moreno's side story involving a recently widowed retirement home resident (Glynn Turman) courting her strikes just the right balance. Of course, there's a also a fair amount of silliness in the form of a spicy wings contest, a cannabis-laced poker party and appearances from the likes of Billy Porter, Patton Oswalt, Andy Richter, Rob Corddry, Retta and Guy Fieri. Some work better than others, although it's kind of bizarre just how large a role Fieri has. .

Given the amount of Brady Super Bowls the writers could choose from, they at least knew to center it around the one that would provide the most creative possibilities, especially in the final act. The Patriots impossible comeback against the Falcons is exploited to full effect, as you can imagine the filmmakers' eagerness at incorporating the ladies into this in a way that earns heartfelt laughs. For the most part it does, despite including extensive footage of a game most know all too well at this point. But if nothing else, you have to at least respect the effort put into that old school NFL opening title sequence.

None of this is complete without Tom Brady's acting chops being put to the test, but he's actually an engaging and charismatic presence in the few minutes he shares onscreen with Tomlin. It helps he's not asked to stretch outside his comfort zone, which could also easily apply to the movie as a whole. It's a fun, harmless ninety minutes audiences won't have to totally shut their brains off to enjoy. They just might have to put them on autopilot for a little bit.  

Tetris

Director: Jon S. Baird
Starring: Taron Egerton, Nikita Yefremov, Sofia Lebedeva, Anthony Boyle, Ben Miles, Ken Yamamura, Igor Grabuzov, Oleg Shtefanko, Ayane Nagabuchi, Rick Yune, Roger Allam, Toby Jones, Togo Igawa, Matthew Marsh
Running Time: 118 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★)  

Simple, straightforward and addictive, it's easy to see how Tetris became such a phenomenon during the mid to late 80's video game craze. The story behind its development and licensing is lesser known, as director Jon S. Baird attempts to make sense of its complicated journey to store shelves. The latest in a string of biopics focusing on big brand products, the script stretches the idea of creative license to its breaking point, as even the actual participants have candidly implied in interviews that some of the events here are either heavily exaggerated or flat-out didn't occur.

Those watching Tetris with even minor background knowledge of the game's origins will feel those Hollywood liberties being taken, which is nothing new for the genre and certainly doesn't disqualify it. But there is an inflated sense of frenetic urgency surrounding this, possibly stemming from concerns that a movie about video game rights might prove too dry for mainstream audiences. This justifiable concern results in an overcompensation of sorts, as the film succumbs to some wheeling and dealing messy enough to give viewers whiplash.

It's 1988 and Henk Rogers (Taron Egerton) of Bullet-Proof Software is in the midst of marketing his newest video game at the Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas when he notices another game called Tetris, created by Soviet programmer Alexey Pajitnov (Nikita Yefremov). But while there Henk finds out that Robert Stein (Toby Jones) of Andromeda Software bought worldwide licensing rights from the Soviet government-owned ELORG. 

It turns out that Stein signed a contract with media magnate Robert Maxwell (Roger Allam) and his son, Mirrorsoft CEO, Kevin Maxwell (Anthony Boyle), enabling them to distribute the game in exchange for royalties. Unfortunately for them, Rogers also claims rights, having recently gotten another Mirrorsoft executive to sign off on the game for PC, console and arcade use. 

After Rogers proposes to Nintendo CEO Hiroshi Yamauchi (Togo Igawa) that they co-produce the game for NES, the company's new Game Boy handheld device readies for launch, just as Sega and Atari also enter the fray. The battle between Rogers and the Maxwells come to a head in Moscow, as ELORG chairman Nikolai Belikov (Oleg Shtefanko) struggles to sort this out with the Soviet Communist Party and a scary KGB operative (Igor Grabuzov) breathing down his neck. Having leveraged everything he has on Tetris, Rogers needs a way to secure the rights and escape Russia alive, even while Pajitnov runs the risk of not seeing a penny from his own creation. 

Under ideal circumstances, a story based on real-life events this chaotic would be streamlined for viewers completely unfamiliar with what happened. And you'd figure that's a sizable majority, some of whom were likely prompted to check this out because it covers the origin of a popular, iconic video game they've played or maybe even grew up on. It's to the film's credit and detriment that it refuses to cut corners, giving us an agonizingly detailed look at all the business complications involved with the licensing. And are there ever a lot, with rights changing hands half a dozen times during about fifteen double crosses as Rogers desperately tries to finalize his deal. 

In a way, this turns out how many worried Ben Affleck's Air would, as both feature entrepreneurial disruptors bucking corporate culture to bring a game-changing product to the masses. Each comes with great personal and professional risk, but the key difference is that Tetris was getting released no matter what. Rogers saw an opportunity and pounced, while Sonny Vaccaro made his own by signing Michael Jordan to Nike. Without him there are no Air Jordans and the film goes to great lengths showing Sonny's vision for the brand. A game involving colorful interlocking blocks is a far cry from that, but it's still a commodity, and beyond Rogers staring at monitors in astonishment, we're rarely given glimpses into why he feels so strongly about it.

Regardless of Rogers' fascination with the game, Noah Pink's script effectively convey the stakes by showing the personal toll this obsession takes on his wife (Ayane Nagabuchi) and young daughters. But when the characters aren't bickering over contracts, it's mostly aiming to be a Cold War spy actioner, complete with a young Russian interpreter (Sofia Lebedeva), high-speed chases through the Moscow streets and even a Mikhail Gorbachev (Matthew Marsh) appearance. Of course, the Soviet leader knowing about the game, much less having a vested interest, requires a big suspension of disbelief. To Baird and his cast's credit, implausible moments like these do come across better than expected, even when getting lost in the minutiae of legal details. 

Moving briskly and incorporating a clever use of 8-bit animated effects throughout, Tetris ticks all the nostalgic boxes with its retro aesthetic and 80's soundtrack. It also contains a handful of solid performances, most notably from Egerton and some slightly lesser known faces. They carry this through some heavily comedic stretches before veering into dramatic territory that resembles a lesser Argo. Crafting a political thriller around the ownership of a video game was never going to be easy, but Tetris could have leveled up by instead exploring what actually went into its creation. 

Renfield

Director: Chris McKay
Starring: Nicholas Hoult, Nicolas Cage, Awkwafina, Ben Schwartz, Shohreh Aghdashloo, Brandon Scott Jones, Adrian Martinez, Camille Chen, Bess Rous, Jenna Kanell, James Moses Black, William Ragsdale
Running Time: 93 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

For many, the primary reason to see Chris McKay's horror comedy Renfield was locked into place upon discovering Nicolas Cage would be playing Dracula, donning the iconic cape previously worn by Bella Lugosi, Christopher, Lee and Frank Langella. After Universal's failed attempt at rebooting their movie monster franchise with 2017's The Mummy, casting Cage as the Prince of Darkness seems almost too perfect, as it's just the kind of character this notoriously risk-taking actor can literally and figuratively sink his teeth into. You can also picture him doing backflips reading the script, salivating at the idea of putting his own distinctive spin on a role that lends itself to the kind of weird, wild reinterpretation he specializes in.

As you'd expect, Cage doesn't disappoint, and though it won't lead to big budget sequels or spin-offs, that likely wasn't the intention anyway. After all, the story's emphasis is cleverly placed on Dracula's beleaguered assistant, opting instead to administer just the right amount of Cage, whose fantastical take comes in measured, but memorable doses. The rest falls on his co-stars, who more than hold up their end by continually bringing the laughs. Working from Ryan Ridley's screenplay, McKay balances two seemingly disparate plots with very little fussiness or confusion. And in featuring some humorously exciting action sequences and impressive practical effects, it's 93 minutes seem to fly by at a breakneck pace.

After ninety years, former attorney R.M. Renfield (Nicholas Hoult) has grown tired of serving as Dracula's (Cage) loyal assistant and constantly being at his beckoned call. In exchange for bringing him master victims, he's been granted immortality by his master, gaining super speed and strength when he consumes insects. But when Dracula must recuperates from a brutal attack, the two relocate to New Orleans, as an increasingly fed up Renfield secretly joins a 12-step support group for people stuck in toxic, co-dependent relationships.

Following a warehouse massacre, Renfield finds himself in the crosshairs of Lobo crime family enforcer Teddy (Ben Schwartz), which catches the attention of hot headed N.O.P.D. officer Rebecca Quigley (Awkwafina), whose own father was killed by the Lobos. As Renfield and Rebecca form an uneasy alliance, Dracula concocts a huge plan, further manipulating his assistant. But at some point, Renfield will need to tell Rebecca about his dilemma and eventually summon the courage to break free from Dracula's control.  

While various attempts at bringing Dracula into the modern world have yielded mixed results, this takes a fresh approach by adopting Renfield's point-of-view. Without wasting time getting to business, it dives headfirst into a black-and-white opening flashback sequence that inserts its two leads into 1931's Dracula. As an early indicator of McKay's willingness to take creative leaps and make some unexpected choices, it works, providing a memorable first look at Cage in the part. He still makes this Dracula outrageously his own, but seeing him incorporated into the classic film underlines how good a fit he is, resembling Lugosi at points and even lifting mannerisms from other past portrayals (with a little Quasimodo thrown in).

As Renfield, Hoult plays straight man to Cage's ghoulish creation, faring especially well when his character yearns for a more normal life outside of pleasing his abusive master, which the film's self-help spoof really hammers home. Awkwafina's casting brings an entirely different dynamic to the type of role usually occupied by a safer, less polarizing choice. The gamble pays off, as she shoots off some sarcastically clever one liners while exterminating the bad guys alongside Hoult, with whom she shares some good chemistry. And the always entertaining Ben Schwartz steals his scenes as the loud mouthed, self-proclaimed hitman who wimpily takes orders from his mob boss mom Bellafrancesca (Shohreh Aghdashloo).  

This can all lead to one place, with Renfield seeing the light and attempting to get out from under Dracula's thumb. For Rebecca, it's about cleaning up the streets and avenging her dad's murder. Both intersect in a gory, violent climax that's as comically action packed as everything preceding it. Cage's performance may not be the only thing worth talking about, but it's high on the list, aided in part by the comparable craziness surrounding him. Undeniably odd and not for everyone, Renfield isn't perfect, but fans of the genre will probably have a tough time resisting its unique charms.           

Black Mirror (Season 6)

Creator: Charlie Brooker
Starring: Annie Murphy, Salma Hayek, Michael Cera, Myha’la Herrold, Samuel Blenkin, Daniel Portman, Monica Dolan, John Hannah, Aaron Paul, Josh Hartnett, Kate Mara, Auden Thornton, Rory Culkin, Zazie Beetz, Clara Rugaard, Danny Ramirez, Anjana Vasan, Paapa Essiedu
Original Airdate: 2023

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Once counted among Netflix's earliest successes, Charlie Brooker's technology themed British anthology series Black Mirror hasn't aired since 2019's underwhelming 3-episode fifth season. And that's assuming you'd consider such a small amount of content a season at all. This followed 2018's interactive, "choose your own adventure" feature Bandersnatch, which garnered a mixed response, leaving viewers wondering if the series could recapture its former glory, which peaked with the third season's Emmy-winning "San Junipero."

While that episode (and to a lesser extent, season four's "USS Callister") has justifiably been cited as a series high, let's not kid ourselves into thinking consistency has been its key strength, with length and pacing issues leading to some real stinkers along the way. But now after a production rights battle had even its creator expressing uncertainty about further seasons and what incarnation those could take, it's finally back.

The good news is that this sixth season sees the series retaining much of what originally worked, while still managing to go in wildly clever new directions. Even if five episodes still doesn't feel like enough, there is a cohesiveness to the storytelling that's been lacking for a long time. Discussions and arguments will undoubtedly break out over the subjective rankings of these episodes, but at least that debate has rarely felt this purposeful. 

Less acceptable is the complaint this "isn't Black Mirror" because it supposedly skews too far from its original intentions. In actuality, this change is a relief, as the show often tripped up by shoehorning outrageous plots into its tech-themed premise rather than organically incorporating them. This new batch is given a little more room the breathe, leaning into the sci-fi, horror and dystopian elements that first invoked all those Rod Serling comparisons. And you wonder whether we'd even be hearing those criticisms if word hadn't leaked that Brooker was planning a "Red Mirror" horror anthology that was intended to showcase the season's final entry. 

These five episodes could be viewed as two halves, with a meditative psychological drama sandwiched in the middle. The season starts in slightly familiar territory before moving to darker places that deviate unexpectedly from the show's tangentially shared universe. One of the installments feels like a miscalculation, a couple linger in the mind longer than others, but it all still fits together really well, offering up a little something for everyone.

In the opener, "Joan is Awful," Annie Murphy gives a tour de force comedic turn as tech CEO Joan, who  discovers the very recent events of her life are unfolding on screen for the world to see in a new "Streamberry" series starring Salma Hayek (played by Salma Hayek). This is easily the lightest, most playful episode of the bunch, not to mention the funniest. And nearly all of it can be attributed to Murphy's wacky turn as Joan, a woman overwhelmed by awkwardly firing employees at the board's will before coming home to safe, but boring boyfriend Krish (Avi Nash). 

Between Joan's trips to her therapist and a temptation to cheat with returning ex Mac (Rob Delaney), the revelation that all of this has been adapted into a series causes humiliating embarrassment on a grand scale. Luckily, she has a plan to get the show cancelled that may or may not involve Hayek and a really disgusting public act. What works best is how the story peels back a few more layers than you'd think, capped it all off with a fun final twist that plants it firmly alongside other similarly themed Black Mirror episodes covering technology's trappings. 

Netflix also really skewers itself here, showing a surprising amount of self-awareness, with Brooker's script humorously taking aim at their "terms and conditions" and greedy business model. In tackling the issue of AI and CGI replacing actors and writers, it's one of the timelier episodes, capped off by a memorably uproarious Michael Cera cameo.   

The second episode, "Loch Henry," finds film student couple Davis (Samuel Blenkin) and Pia (Myha’la Herrold) traveling to his quaint Scottish hometown to visit his widowed mother Janet (Monica Dolan) and shoot footage for their documentary on a local conservationist. But during a stop at the bar owned by Davis's childhood friend, Stuart (Daniel Portman), a far more sordid subject piques Pia's interest

Daniel tells Pia the story of local murderer Iain Adair, who was responsible for the torture and deaths of numerous tourists in the '90's, resulting in the shooting of Davis's late policeman father Kenneth (Gregor Firth) and the town's decades-long decline. Despite Davis's obvious discomfort, Pia convinces him to focus their film on this, doing the research and even visiting the scene for additional footage. But since crime documentaries are a dime a dozen, they'll need a hook for it to stand out from the pack, And boy do they ever get one. 

When this starts you're unsure what the goal is, at least until Pia convinces Davis to shift course and an incredible musical montage featuring Melanie's "People in the Front Row" signifies they're off to the races. Blenkin and Herrold build on their natural chemistry, while a subtle Dolan convinces as a mother willingly participating to keep her husband's memory alive. 

Of all the episodes, this contains the biggest twist. And for every viewer saying they saw it coming will be others totally taken aback. What really matters is whether it lands, as this unquestionably does, with Brooker turning his retro VHS camcorder on Netflix's taste for true crime exploitation and the viewers' willingness to join in for entertainment's sake. 

"Beyond The Sea," takes place in an alternate 1969, with astronauts Cliff (Aaron Paul) and David (Josh Hartnett) aboard a ship on a six-year space mission. In between medical physicals and repairs, their consciousnesses are transferred to artificial replicas of themselves on Earth, enabling both to spend time with their respective families.. 

While the emotionally distant Cliff lives quietly off the grid in an idyllic rural farm house with wife Lana (Kate Mara) and their son, David settles in California, making him a more recognizable celebrity. But when tragedy strikes and replicant David and his family are targeted by a violent, Manson-like hippie cult, Lana suggests Cliff lend distraught, depressed David his replica so he can unwind back at their home. As David's trips become more frequent, he becomes unhealthily attached to a life that isn't his. 

Going on cast and premise alone, this seemed a likely frontrunner for the season's best going in. And even while that designation is arguable, few could claim it disappoints. Running a robust 80 minutes, it's the longest episode, but a meditative slow burn that perfectly suits the material's melancholic tone. There's a mesmerizing, contemplative quality to how it all unfolds, thanks largely to John Crowley's steady direction and the impressive production design that goes into creating both the shuttle and Earth-bound 60's settings. It's 2001: A Space Odyssey meets Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, as its story wrestles with some heady sci-fi themes that are only bolstered by three terrific central performances.

Paul and Hartnett are devastating in their roles, with the former pulling off the tricky job of playing both Cliff and David, going home first as Cliff before sporadically returning as David occupying Cliff's body. It's sort of a Face/Off-like scenario with Paul never leaving doubt as to which character he's inhabiting, completely adjusting his mannerisms, speech and physicality to match each. And Mara doesn't have it easy either, having to react differently to both while struggling with Lana's guilt in finding David more attentive and engaged than her actual husband. 

After seemingly years away, Hartnett returns in a major role and is also apparently now five times the actor he was, capturing the loneliness, anger and jealousy of a man who's lost everything. Believing Cliff doesn't appreciate what he has, David walks up to the edge of madness before crossing that line into the unthinkable, perhaps damning both of them to share in their own separate hell together. You may generally know where Brooker's headed from the start, but this Twilight Zone-inspired morality play will benefit from repeated viewings, satisfying the most cynical series purists with its brutal ending.

In "Mazey Day," increasingly disillusioned celebrity photographer Bo (Zazie Beetz) gets a tip that missing actress Mazey Day (Clara Rugaard) may be hiding out nearby following a hit-and-run overseas. Despite recently quitting the paparazzi game, she knows photos of the starlet could command a lot of cash. Looking to dig herself out of a financial hole, she follows some leads to locate Mazey, with disastrous consequences. 

The season's shortest episode is also its most underwhelming by a large margin, testing the theory that less is necessarily more with Black Mirror. From a technical standpoint, it's fine, but despite the next entry demonstrating how the show can successfully dip into unchartered territory, there just isn't a lot of purpose behind this, regardless of genre.   

Brooker setting the action in 2006 is smart since the very idea of a celebrity "disappearing" in the current age of social media is close to impossible, especially following a vehicular assault. The paparazzi was also at their most venomous during this era so that helps in setting the stage for what could have been a promising look at media obsession. Unfortunately, this takes a lesser route that isn't poorly executed, but just very run-of-the-mill. 

After making that hard narrative pivot, the intrigue comes to a sudden halt, leaving us with an entertaining diversion in search of something larger to say. Beetz makes an effective lead but can't overcome the deflation of that sudden detour, which leaves a potentially better story on the table in favor of shocks and gore.

A beautifully bleak opening set to Art Garfunkel's "Bright Eyes," begins the final episode, "Demon 79," which takes place in a small English town of Tipley, circa 1979. It follows meek, mild mannered department store associate Nida (Anjana Vasan) into work where she puts up with a prejudiced co-worker (Katherine Rose Morley) and boss (Nick Holder). Despite fleeting daydreams of enacting violent revenge, she remains composed and polite, quietly suffering as further anti-immigrant rhetoric is spewed outside the door by campaigning conservative politician Michael Smart (David Shields). 

When Nida takes home a mysterious wooden talisman from the store's basement, she inadvertently  unleashes an aspiring demon named Gaap (Paapa Essiedu), who appears in the human form of Boney M. band member Bobby Farrell. Told she has to make three human sacrifices before May Day or the world will end, she's suddenly faced with some monumental choices as the clock winds down. While definitely not a murderer, the skeptical Nida will need Gaap's help to learn quickly, assuming the fate of the world does really lay in her hands.

This joins "Beyond The Sea" as the best directed episodes of the season, as Vasan's heartbreaking turn proves to be the real draw here, with the actress nothing short of extraordinary in depicting the emotional stages this shy woman goes through, even before this supernatural entity appears. While its premise draws heavy parallels to the recent Knock at the Cabin, a better thematic comparison might be the classic Twilight Zone episode, "The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street," at least in terms of its examination of "otherness" and xenophobia. 

Gaap believes Nida's been chosen because she's a good person, but also an easily corruptible one. And you see that aspect peeking through every corner of Vasan's performance, which has her character torn between doing what's dutifully expected and finally taking a stand. The comedic banter between Vasan and Essiedu keeps everything rolling, but her fear and anger is palpable when it starts seeping through to the surface.

It's one thing to talk about preemptively doing the world a favor by killing someone like Hitler, but not as easy to actually go through with when you're the person swinging that hammer. While the possibility of Nida being mentally ill hangs over this story like a specter, Brooker and co-writer Bisha K. Ali realize what such a decision would mean, ultimately staying true to their original conceit without undermining it. Divisive as this episode is, it's ironic that an homage to 70's British horror devoid of modern technology further illuminates how challenging perceptions has always been the series' biggest strength.