The Voyeurs

Director: Michael Mohan
Starring: Sydney Sweeney, Justice Smith, Ben Hardy, Natasha Liu Bordizzo, Katharine King, Cameo Adele, Jean Yoon
Running Time: 116 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Prime Video's aggressively unsubtle erotic thriller The Voyeurs is yet another reminder that few other films have been remade as much as Rear Window without being explicitly acknowledged as such. This latest hypersexualized twist on the premise won't be the last, incorporating elements from that and some other knock-offs through the years, many of which are inferior. A recent one, Netflix's problematic The Woman in the Window, was heavily criticized for taking itself too seriously and failing to fully embrace its absurdity, a cardinal sin when dabbling in this genre. Anyone turned off by that restraint should find much more to enjoy in writer/director Michael Mohan's far racier, adventurous escape since the last thing it'll be accused of is holding back.

There are some intriguing ideas here and even if a good amount of them seem casually discarded in favor of third act twists and shocks, it's at least craftly made and features a noteworthy lead performance. But while it may be fun to speculate what these actors could have done with more elevated material, the realization quickly sets in that's just not what this is. If a movie's trying to be a trashy modern day erotic thriller and is, does that make it a success? This isn't Hitchcock, much less Lynch or DePalma, but that's not the goal, as there's this strange pull to it's ludicrousness that makes it hard to turn away despite its obvious narrative missteps. In other words, you get what's advertised.     

Young couple Pippa (Sydney Sweeney) and Thomas (Justice Smith) are on cloud nine having just signed the lease to move into their first apartment together in Montreal. Noticing their windows give them an excellent view of the neighbors across the street, they've taken an increased interest in this mystery couple they've named "Margot" (Natasha Liu Bordizzo) and "Brent," (Ben Hardy). After seeing them having sex in the kitchen, Pippa and Thomas develop a bit of an stalkerish obsession with the pair that they know is wrong, even as they can't seem to control themselves, simultaneously repulsed and turned on by what appears to be a psychologically abusive relationship. But when they realize "Brent" uses the pad to bed models when "Margot" isn't home, things take a more serious turn with Pippa feeling obligated to expose the truth. Complicating matters is her burgeoning friendship with "Margot," leading Pippa to make a fateful decision that sends all four of their lives spiraling toward an unexpectedly tragic destination. 

Much of the opening act consists of Pippa and Thomas jokingly and nervously attempting to downplay their voyeuristic interest until letting their guard down and just proudly submitting to their curiosity. But it isn't all fun and games for long, as it's impossible to overlook the very obvious irony of us intently watching them watch this couple, waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it does. After assigning the impossibly attractive neighbors names, Pippa and Thomas get a little too close for comfort, their true lives coming into full view. "Brent" is Seb, a sleazy, succcessful photographer who prefers to go shirtless while shooting his models and "Margot" is actually a seemingly directionless ex-model named Julia who seems to be stuck in his web of gaslighting deceit.

That Pippa just so happens to be an optometrist might be the most notable example of Mohan's obsessive use of ocular symbolism and motifs, executed with all the subtly of a sledgehammer. But it helps that Pippa and Thomas are actually fairly likable, proving especially beneficial in the early going as their couple chemistry and banter is required to move the story along. Similarly, Seb and Julia do emerge as something more than the constructs they start as, at least before things start unraveling later on. 

The White Lotus and Euphoria's Sydney Sweeney has already been earmarked as a major breakout and watching this it's easy to see why since her performance outright carries the film, bringing a heartbreaking realism to some really crazy material and character choices that are questionable at best. But she handles it all, exposing herself in more than just the strictly literal ways, as the admittedly silly but fun script pushes and pulls in wild directions to deliver some decent-sized thrills. Her aforementioned scenes opposite Justice Smith carry a natural vibe to that of those with Bordizzo and Hardy, who are both effective in roles that could be considered bizarro opposites of the two leads.

To its credit, the plot hinges on a big twist that's fairly surprising and insane, destined to either induce unintentional laughter or praise at its sheer audacity. Lacking the typical problem of most modern erotic thrillers that tend to be neither erotic or thrilling, The Voyeurs deserves credit for putting forth an admirable effort in both departments, throwing back to tawdry 90's entries in the genre that used to run on late night TV. It's even clear from the opening title sequence, during which Danielle Steele-stylized credits appear on screen as Angel Olsen's cover of Billy Idol's "Eyes Without a Face" plays over the action. It's a pretty bold introduction, but also fitting for a film that walks right up to that line and practically dares you to mock it, unafraid of embracing its own campiness.

Kate

Director: Cedric Nicolas-Troyan
Starring: Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Miku Martineau, Woody Harrelson, Tadanobu Asano, Jun Kunimura, Michiel Huisman, Miyavi, Amelia Crouch, Ava Caryofyllis, Gemma Brooke Allen, Kazuya Tanabe
Running Time: 106 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Netflix's Kate may as well be the intersection where Crank meets John Wick meets Kill Bill, but director Cedric Nicolas-Troyan's explosive, over-the-top, high octane thriller also serves as Mary Elizabeth Winstead's rite of passage into full-fledged action star. There were hints of it in Birds of Prey, but now the actress takes the next logical leap in what's been an unexpectedly adventurous career arc that seems to paint further outside the lines with each passing role. And much like Charlize Theron and Scarlett Johansson, who both frequently alternate between giving powerful dramatic performances in smaller films and taking ass-kicking action parts that diversify their portfolios, Winstead is just as perfect a fit for this genre. As for the film itself, it's the very definition of a "love it" or "hate it" affair, as certain fans will eat it up while others may slightly cringe at how derivative it is of some titles that preceded it. 

Troyan proudly wears his influences on his sleeve and if there are points where you wish things were a little less predictable or tidier, that's mostly offset by what he gets right, from the visuals to the sensationally choreographed fight sequences. But it's Winstead who carries it, bringing a Ripley-like tenacity to the title part that's only enhanced by another performance that's just as good, enabling both to pick up the slack when the narrative starts playing itself out. They also take one of the more tired action tropes and elevate it,  leaving viewers contemplating all the creative possibilities for the inevitable sequel or spin-off that must already be in the planning stages. There's a lot to like here, but where it earns most of its stripes is in the commitment to go all out with the kind of inspired lunacy an action vehicle like this requires.     

When Kate (Winstead) was orphaned as a young girl, mentor and father figure Varrick stepped in, training her as a member of his elite team, as she developed into an expert assassin. Now, complications arise when she's in Osaka to kill an officer of the dangerous yakuza syndicate, as a child is unexpectedly accompanying the intended target. Kate's decision to take the shot anyway and complete the job leaves her in emotional distress, vowing to Varrick that she will only do one final mission before calling it quits and retiring. But after experiencing dizziness and unable to hit her mark, Kate soon comes to the harsh realization she may have been poisoned by a mysterious man named Stephen (Michiel Huisman), whom she hooked up with at a hotel bar. 

The toxic cocktail of choice was apparently Polonium-204, a radioactive agent that will kill Kate within 24 hours, as all clues lead to the Kijima crime family being behind the poisoning. On a desperate mission to find the reclusive Kijima (Jun Kunimura) himself, she kidnaps his niece Ani (Miku Martineau) while injecting herself with stolen hospital stimulants to keep going. With the clock ticking away, Kate sets her sights on extracting revenge, unaware of the many emerging roadblocks that could jeopardize that.   

While you could quibble about its originality, there's little room to deny this as a visually stimulating experience with an almost dizzying array of neon and blacklight coming at you from all directions to create this kinetic, propulsive nighttime Tokyo atmosphere. Early on, an exhilarating car chase through the busy streets evokes an aesthetic straight out of TRON: Legacy or Speed Racer. It's only when you get into the mechanics of the plot when Umair Aleem's screenplay exposes itself as treading over some familiar territory, but even that's done fairly well, as Winstead's intensity and the maternal connection Kate forms with Ani more than making up for those shortfalls. 

There are echoes of The Professional and probably dozens of other titles featuring a hitman or assassin as reluctant child protector, but there's something about how this one develops that really elevates the story, with Kate's hard exterior slowly cracking the more she sees of herself in this kid. Part of that's Winstead, but young newcomer Miku Martineau is a spunky revelation as Ani, peeling back the layers of her tough, outwardly rebellious character to show she's not quite as in control as she thinks, disregarded in much the same, sad way as Kate. Harrelson isn't incredibly involved until the last third of the picture, but leaves a sufficient enough impact with the screen time he's given.

With Kate as fixated on finding her favorite energy drink as she is hunting Kijima, amongst Winstead's many accomplishments is her ability to infuse as much deadpan humor into the material as possible. Say what you will about the 24-hour poison plot but there's a reason it's used so frequently in action films. When executed right, it works, helping here to give a sense of real-time immediacy to the events, aided in no small part by two wildly choreographed fight scenes that stand as the film's anchors. One in a restaurant, during which Kate battles a gang of yakuza, and another thrilling apartment fight with flamboyant assassin Jojima (Miyavi), both leading her closer to Kijima and possibly some answers. Of course, the answers she finds may not be what she was looking for.

This all does start losing some steam as it approaches a somewhat predictable, but still undeniably exciting finale carried by the Kate and Ani dynamic, not to mention a lot of gunfire and hand-to-hand combat. If nothing else, it's the genre film most likely to appear atop Quentin Tarantino's favorites of the year, which is less a testament to enduring quality than it being the exact kind of in-your-face female-driven action escape he'd likely overpraise. But this case, he'd kind of be right, with eye-popping visuals, some great fight scenes, and a coolness factor provided by Winstead's performance that powers Kate to a far less disposable level than most of the other action junk we're used to being served. 

Worth

Director: Sara Colangelo
Starring: Michael Keaton, Stanley Tucci, Amy Ryan, Tate Donovan, Shunori Ramanthan, Laura Benanti, Talia Balsam, Marc Maron, Chris Tardio, Victor Slezak
Running Time: 118 min.
Rating: PG-13 

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

For the longest time any discussion about a movies focusing on 9/11 would revolve around one question: "Too soon?" But as years passed and more were released, those concerns eventually faded into the background, replaced with conversations about how accurately and tastefully this particular part of history would be handled. Paul Greengrass' United 93 set the gold standard in 2006, with most others that followed falling short, even occasionally using the tragedy as mere window dressing to tell another story altogether. With Worth, director Sara Colangelo takes a slightly different approach, zeroing in on a controversial aspect of its aftermath that's never been this exhaustively dramatized. The legalities and ethics related to the September 11th Victim Compensation Fund is fertile territory, with many still somewhat unaware of the exact complications and challenges surrounding it. And you'd be hard-pressed to find a more accurate title for the film than Worth, as it most definitely addresses the many meanings and implications that word carries. 

If this has a deficit, it's that some may find it clinical or dry in how it hits the same note repeatedly, albeit in slightly different ways. Luckily, that's offset by not only how elegantly and efficiently that note is struck, but a compelling lead performance that helps in juggling such a sensitive topic. This just so happens to echo the ethical dilemma its protagonist is faced with, attempting to quantify something so steeped in human emotion that any decision he makes will at least feel wrong. What's the monetary value of a human life? That's the big question, and whatever formula he and his legal team can come up with to please the powers that be simply won't hold in this scenario. It's only when he truly comes around to acknowledge and listen to the victims' families and their needs that some kind of path to justice can be forged. The story's best when focusing directly on that, walking us through the messy, uncomfortable process of eventually getting there.

Selected by the Attorney General to serve as special master to disseminate funds to the families and victims directly impacted by the 9/11 attack, lawyer Kenneth Feinberg (Michael Keaton) eagerly accepts the appointment, believing his extensive experience in dispute resolution make him an ideal fit for the position. But the primary purpose of the fund is for the government to avoid the inevitable barrage of impending lawsuits that would potentially cripple major industries and destroy the economy. Working pro bono with co-counsel Camille Biros (Amy Ryan) and the rest of his assembled team, Feinberg must determine proper compensation using a fairly inflexible plan he's objectively devised based on variety of socio-economic factors and circumstances under the law. 

Feinberg's given a limited amount of leeway from the government as he's faced with an almost impossibly tight deadline to get these families on board. After a chilly start that sees him scientifically discounting any emotion from his stringent equation, he draws the ire of Charles Wolf (Stanley Tucci), whose wife died in the north tower.  Becoming the program's harshest critic, he creates the web site, "Fix The Fund," but it isn't until Feinberg stops calculating and actually listens that he wakes up to the true enormity and purpose of the job put in front of him.    

Sitting on the shelf for over a year before finally dropping on Netflix, this is noticeably more intelligent and restrained than anyone could expect given its extended post-production history. Keaton's in nearly every scene, sporting a noticeably thick Massachusetts accent for what's probably his most prominent leading turn since 2015's criminally underrated The Founder, even as the material's likelier to remind audiences of Spotlight. But more like the former, he's again inhabiting a character on shaky moral ground throughout, regardless of his intentions. It's a tricky part, but one that again benefits from the actor's fast-talking edginess, as Feinberg constantly straddles that line between hero and villain while still remaining relatably human. On one hand, he can be viewed as a dedicated public servant, taking on a Herculean task no one in their right mind would dream of signing up for. Then again, must of that is quickly erased once we realize how he's going about it, which marks him early on as another disimpassioned bureaucrat looking to cut corners just to save a buck.

Keaton excels at conveying Feinberg's lack of self-awareness, plowing through his formula while displaying little regard for the mitigating factors involved. It's not that he doesn't care, it's that he cares in the wrong way, and it isn't until Charles Wolf enters the picture that he starts second-guessing his entire approach. Tucci's plays Wolf refreshingly against type, his character approaching the situation with common sense and respect rather than hostility. He aims to meet Feinberg on a certain level as opposed to merely reprimanding him and it works since the attorney doesn't have much of a choice. He's taking a pounding from all sides, whether it's the families, the government or the airline industry. 

Keaton's most memorable moment finds him in front of a room of distraught, grieving families attempting to explain his plan, soon looking as if he's about to crawl into a hole after unintentionally offending everyone with his business-like demeanor and condescending word choices. An unexpected phone call from President Bush sarcastically and almost comically "congratulating" him lets the lawyer know exactly what he's gotten into. There are also some strong supporting performances from Laura Benanti and Chris Tardio as the surviving wife and brother of a firefighter who died in the tower, Tate Donovan as an opposing lawyer looking to launch a class action suit and Shunori Ramanthan as a member of Feinberg's team with a personal connection to the attacks.

Max Borenstein's screenplay suceeds in making the realizations that Feinberg reaches seem as organic as possible, even if it's due mostly to Keaton's mastery at juggling a complicated range of emotions and reactions that sell an ending that may seem a little too pat for some. But it works, largely because Colangelo (no stranger to challenging material having directed The Kindergarten Teacher) ackowledges there's little about this fund that will ever be celebrated given the context, managing to strike an appropriate tone that stops short of over-sentimentality. She also wisely refrains from using reenactments, choosing instead to sparingly intersperse actual news footage when it's called for.  As an overlooked corner of the 9/11 story that hasn't properly been given its due, Worth proves to be a low-key, eye-opening examination of those who were left to pick up the pieces of what happened that day. 

He's All That

Director: Mark Waters
Starring: Addison Rae, Tanner Buchanan, Madison Pettis, Rachael Leigh Cook, Peyton Meyer, Isabella Crovetti, Myra Molloy, Annie Jacob, Kourtney Kardashian
Running Time: 91 min.
Rating: TV-MA

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

The notion of whether it's a good idea to remake the 1999 romantic comedy She's All That is entirely beside the point. Setting aside the fact we've become numb to any reboot by now, the original is hardly an impeachable cinematic treasure to be passed down through the ages, its basic plot never to be tinkered or toyed with again. After all, it's essentially a remake in itself, having cribbed its basic framework from My Fair Lady and the many ugly duckling makeover plots before and since. Now with Mark Waters' Netflix release, He's All That, it's officially happening again, complete with a gender swap twist and some other elements thrown in to appeal to more modern audiences.

There's always a certain nostalgic appreciation that accompanies even the worst films if you were in the right place and time when it hit. As a serviceable rom-com with two likeable leads that went on to become somewhat of a parody of itself in pop culture, She's All That might conjure up those feelings for some. If anything, you could argue it's one of the better remake candidates, as there's pretty much nothing that can be done that would would either enhance or diminish its source material, which was always pretty malleable.

Having successfully directed genre favorites Mean Girls and Freaky Friday, Waters not only knows the territory, but would also seem to be the ideal choice to deliver what Netflix wants. And it's very clear what that is, with their big idea revolving around an influencer playing herself and using that to commentate on social media's shallowness. Of course, when the movie's simultaneously promoting and benefiting from this, it creates a complicated dichotomy that they navigate more gracefully than expected. While stopping just short of labeling it "self-aware," the approach isn't a terrible idea on paper. But by so blatantly relying on current technology for every facet of the plot, it does run the risk of eventually looking and feeling as dated as the original might to some now, assuming that even matters to fans down the road. What it may best be remembered for is culminating in a painless, hit-or-miss experience with a few bones thrown to fans of the original. 

Instagram influencer and high school senior Padgett Sawyer (TikTok star Addison Rae) appears on the surface to be living the high life, milking a lucrative corporate sponsorship and dating aspiring hip hop artist Jordan Van Draanen (Peyton Meyer). While Padgett's divorced mother Anna (She's All That's Rachael Leigh Cook) pulls down extra shifts as a nurse, encouraging her daughter to pursue a degree, everything comes undone when Jordan's hook-up with a backup dancer is captured on Padgett's live stream. 

Humiliated by her embarrassingly honest, over-the-top meltdown that goes viral, Padgett's suddenly bleeding followers and risks losing her sponsorship. In an attempt to reclaim her social status, she accepts a challenge from best friend Alden (Madison Pettis), to turn transform one of the school's least popular losers into prom king. She's handed anti-social outcast Cameron Kweller (Cobra Kai's Tanner Buchanan), who's so miserable that even his precocious younger sister Brin (Isabella Crovetti) and only friend Nisha (Annie Jacob) are losing patience. 

After initially rejecting her superficial attempts to take an interest in him, Padgett and Cameron gradually grow closer, realizing they share more in common than they could have thought. The problem is preventing him from finding out he's just a bet, as Padgett discovers there may be more to life than accumulating likes on social media.  

Taking the circumstances and blueprint of the original into account, there's a quick turnaround in Cameron's attitude and tolerance of Padgett. After what seems like relatively short time spent on establishing his unpleasantness on the lowest scale possible, he doesn't seem incredibly resistant to her advances, or even all that suspicious of the intentions. In a sense, this might be the most realistic aspect of R. Lee Fleming Jr.'s script if the goal was to present someone so terminally unpopular instantly taken when this girl's attention suddenly comes his way. But they make such a point hammering home his disgust for high school, social media, and anything resembling attention, that's kind of tough to buy. 

If everyone's bone of contention with the 1999 original was that the removal of a girl's glasses transformed her from ugly bookworm into the most popular, beautiful girl in school, this take is at least slightly more nuanced. In a deliberate attempt to avoid potential accusations of sexism and misogyny, they've swapped the genders and while the end results remain mostly unchanged, Buchanan's performance helps, putting the emphasis of Cameron's apathy toward the world on his personal grief and past trauma. It's a decent distinction, distracting from the fact that his moppy hair, flannel and social awkwardnessis are the new version of Rachael Leigh Cook's glasses, even if it just makes him more throwback than loser. 

Addison Rae isn't a professional actress, but apparently there are ways to work around that, with the film bending over backwards to exhaust most of them. She smiles and charms her way through this, pushing the limits of just how important a lead rom-com performance really is, as the rest of the cast picks up the slack, aside from a horrifying celebrity cameo that has this year's Razzie locked up. As for Cook, she appears as Padgett's mom, just so fans of the original can feel super old. That works, but she's given very little to do in what's arguably the film's most thankless role. But at least an entire younger generation gets to feel old also when they realize Aldin is played by the same Madison Pettis who appeared as The Rock's 8 year-old on screen daughter in The Game Plan. But if there's any positive to Freddie Prinze Jr. opting out, it's that fellow She's All That alum Matthew Lillard gets to take the spotlight with his brief, eccentrically crazed turn as Principal Bosch.

If acting is usually the last thing to go wrong with a film, someone forgot to tell Kourtney Kardashian, whose minutes-long stay as Padgett's passive-aggressive social media sponsor is neither passive nor aggressive, succeeding only in making Rae look like Sir Laurence Olivier in comparison. Even while acknowledging the practical desire to stunt cast a reality star in something like this, did it have to be someone you can see physically struggling to bring even the slightest sliver of believability or humanity to the dialogue?

Rae and Buchanan do share some nice scenes together when the ball gets fully rolling with the plot, but it's Peyton Meyer's performance as a self-absorbed viral hip hop egomaniac and Isabella Crovetti's scene-stealing turn as Cameron's caring sister that go above and beyond, with the latter especially adept at making the kind of honest, wry observations you'd hope a character with a front row seat to this silliness would.

Since this wouldn't be complete without somehow working in Sixpence None the Richer's ubiquitous "Kiss Me" song (or at least a cover of it) and a dance-off, we get both, even if the latter seems a bit too choreographed, failing to even capture the spontaneous spark and energy of the '99 film. There's nothing too objectionable about the angle they chose for approaching this material so much as how obvious the execution is. That Netflix has this down to a science by now might be a part of the problem since they've been dropping so many identically filmed and performed titles lately it's become hard for any to register as more than clickbait, even one with the seemingly built-in nostalgia factor of He's All That.   

Beckett

Director: Ferdinando Cito Filomarino
Starring: John David Washington, Alicia Vikander, Boyd Holbrook, Vicky Krieps, Maria Votti, Panos Koronis, Lena Kitsopoulou
Running Time: 108 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

Tightly wound and consistently suspenseful, Netflix's political conspiracy thriller, Beckett is bit better than it first appears, wringing genuine tension from the familiar premise of an ordinary man facing insurmountable circumstances. In certain ways, it starts out recalling something along the lines of 2010's The American in terms of tone and style before taking a more action-oriented turn that ups the excitement and violence level. In this case, the American in question is an innocent vacationer rather than a contracted killer, even as he inches closer to the latter by film's end. 

Having already acclimated himself nicely as the quintessential man on the run in Christopher Nolan's Tenet, this is the kind of role John David Washington has already proven to excel at. Here, he plays a man helplessly spiraling into imminent danger after making one horrible mistake that sets off a chain of almost inhumanly bad luck. Having to readjust quickly, he proves more formidable and resourceful than expected, as director Ferdinando Cito Filomarino tries his best to recreate the kind of old school, paranoid atmosphere prevalent in '70's pictures like The Parallax View, with decidely more mixed results.  

U.S. Tourist Beckett (Washington) is vactioning in Greece with girlfriend April (Alicia Vikander) when the two decide to leave their hotel in Athens due to nearby protesting. But when Beckett falls asleep at the wheel, veering off the road and crashing into a nearby house, April is killed immediately. Badly injured and trapped in the car, Beckett can make out a boy being accompanied out of the house by an unknown blonde woman (Lena Kitsopoulou) before he wakes up in the hospital the next day. 

After Beckett gives his statement to the Officer Xenakis (Panos Koronis) at the station, he returns to the accident scene, only to get followed and shot at. Running for his life with these assailants on his trail, Beckett needs to find a way to get to the U.S. embassy in Athens, relying primarily on the help of political activists Lena (Vicky Krieps) and Eleni (Maria Votti). With the truth behind why he's being hunted still unclear, Beckett must come to grips with his own fatal mistake while attempting to escape a dangerous web of deceit and corruption that cuts to the core of the country's unrest. 

With a premise and opening half hour that teases a Hitchcockian puzzlebox, it starts becoming clear later that there just isn't enough style and substance present for it to truly earn such a lofty comparison. That's fine, as few can, bit it does settle into more conventional action territory as Kevin Rice's script fleshes itself out, leaking morsels of information as Beckett deals with one complication after the next in his mission to find safety. But what he really wants is only to get his deceased girlfriend's body returned to the states so that this nightmare can end.

Beckett's guilt and anger over April's death seems to be his primary driving force, which is ironic considering the car accident doesn't have as much to do with the actual conspiracy as you'd think, at least directly. But does this guy ever take a beating, from getting shot, jumping off cliffs to getting stabbed, you could be fooled into thinking this is an unannounced Superman sequel. But because the story follows a clear trajectory of events and Washington's so effective at selling the anguish and frustration over his plight, it at least clears the low action movie threshold necessary for us to temporarily suspend disbelief.

Compared with Washington, Alicia Vikander's role as the doomed April is minor, her performance playing better in hindsight once the fallout following the character's death is fully accessed by film's end. That said, the two actors have very little chemistry as a couple and some of their early small talk is insufferable, putting a damper on the proceedings right out of the gate. Curiously missing in action since her breakthrough in 2017's Phantom Thread, Vicky Krieps turns in solid supporting work as the headstrong, but skeptical activist faced with the dilemma of whether to trust a desperate, volatile stranger. Boyd Holbrook also memorably appears as a U.S. embassy employee Beckett is forced to rely on if he has any hopes of extracting himself from this mess.  

It's up for debate whether the final explanation of events lives up to the action preceding it, but the creative execution mostly delivers, as the script's clarity and cleanliness is appreciated in a time when movies of this ilk pile contrivances on top of contrivances to get where it needs to go. There may be moments of that going on, but not an egregious, empty-headed amount, making it easier to become invested in the outcome. Revolving around a somewhat sympathetic protagonist in the wrong place at the wrong time, Filomarino holds our attention by using all the reliable tricks a throwback potboiler should. Beckett doesn't reinvent the wheel, but adequately accomplishes what's needed, making it more than worth a watch.

Jungle Cruise

Director: Juame Collet-Serra
Starring: Dwayne Johnson, Emily Blunt, Edgar Ramirez, Jack Whitehall, Jesse Plemons, Paul Giamatti
Running Time: 127 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)
 
It's hard not to have a conflicted internal dialogue regarding Dwayne Johnson's on-screen career, which seems to grow by leaps and bounds with each new release. In case you haven't heard, he gets paid a lot of money to star in some very big movies that make serious bank and audiences seem to really enjoy. While some are undeniably better than others, it wouldn't be irrational to categorize all of them as pure escapism or entertainment with a capital "E." And that's not a dig. His projects may have little sustaining nutritional value but he has the charismatic ability to basically pull off anything, making you wonder whether he should attempt some seriously challenging material instead of continuing to elevate lesser mainstream movies that more desperately need him.

Maybe that pivot will eventually come for Johnson, but for now we're kidding ourselves if we think he's going to stop making movies like Jungle Cruise. He knows his audience, cleverly blazing a career path even the biggest stars would be envious of. In other words, if it aint broke, don't fix it. For now. This one's more of the same and pretty disposable, sharing much in common with the Disney theme park attraction on which it's based, genuinely feeling like a movie adapted from a ride. It's occasionally funny, the performances are enjoyably hammy and there's a lot happening. In fact, so much is going on that for a while I actually just started to tune out, only making a rebound of sorts toward the final act. It's a mess, though not an agressively offensive one, improved greatly by two winning leads who deserve better, but remain undeniably great together. 

After a flashback to 1556 shows a Spanish conquistador-led trek to South America in search of the mystical Tears of the Moon healing tree, Dr. Lily Houghton's (Emily Blunt) research on it is presented by her brother MacGregor (Jack Whitehall) to the Royal Society of London in 1918. Despite the siblings' claims that the tree's healing flowers can revolutionize medicine and cure disease are met with skepticism and derision, Lily steals an arrowhead artifact she believes is key to discovering its whereabouts. With that and an ancient map in hand, Lily and MacGregor arrive in Brazil as she recruits cheap jungle cruise skipper Frank Wolff (Johnson) to take them down the Amazon. 

Upon stealing his boat back from his scuzzy boss Nilo Nemolato (Paul Giamatti) Frank heads down the river with the Houghtons, unaware they're being followed by a German sub commandeered by the conniving Prince Joachim (Jesse Plemons), who's desperately seeking the Tree for his own fame and fortune. With Lily unsure she can trust the cocky Frank, he views her as a humorless, pampered princess. Even if there's a lot more to both, they'll have little choice but to co-exist to survive this trip, if they want to reap the benefits of the elusive Tears of the Moon.

Sticking strictly to the Disney playbook, anyone expecting to be dazzled by plot twists and suprises or taken aback by its unexpected edginess will be disappointed. Co-writers Michael Green, Glenn Ficara and John Requa actually bring more narrative nuance to the brief flashbacks involving Frank's backstory and that of Edgar Ramirez's embattled Spanish conquistador than a lot of main arc involving the hunt for the Tree. Most of the mission revolves around slapstick silliness and the mustache-twirling Prince's cat-and-mouse game with the Houghtons and Frank. Thankfully, none of this is completely unbearable, in no small part due to the chemistry between Johnson and Blunt, with the former having some real fun with the character's one-liners and cheesy puns throughout. 

With Johnson's overconfident con man taking center stage, it's been somewhat overlooked just how good Blunt is opposite him, showcasing some excellent comedic timing and physical chops in over-the-top sight gags they could have easily fallen flat with less game actress in the part. If there's a drawback, it's that the pair bounce off each other so naturally that their relationship seems almost asexual, strangely lacking any romantic sparks to the point that they seem more like siblings than Blunt and Whitehall do. Of course, this doesn't entirely fall on them, as bringing heated chemistry to a family film based on a kids' park ride probably wasn't high on Disney's priority list, nor should it be. 

Plemons isn't exactly miscast in the Prince Joaquim role since he's played more than his fair share of villains, but it's still odd watching him play one this over-the-top. He's compulsively watchable in a scenery-chewing kind of way, occasionally making you wonder if he stepped in after Chistoph Waltz passed on what plays like one of his trademark parts. As a sidekick character, Jack Whitewall is more entertainingly endearing than you'd expect given MacGregor was probably intended as more of a one-dimensional, snobby irritant. 

The real star might be composer James Newton Howard's clever reworking of Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters" as the backdrop to what's by far the best sequence in the entire film, where Frank's origin story is revealed in full. Skillfully constructed, exciting and well shot, you'll wish the whole film were as absorbing as these five minutes, offering up substantial proof there was potential to be mined from at least part of this premise. And it's not that the rest looks bad per se, just very artificial and effects heavy. At certain points many shots have this enticing, picaresque quality to them, until you realize it only looks nice in the superficial way you'd expect to appreciate in a Thomas Kincaid painting. And the less said about Frank's pet tiger the better, as it's about time to call a moratorium on CGI animals if this is the best they can do.

The African Queen this isn't, but it doesn't need to be, even as it deliberately draws upon the 1951 film as a blueprint, along with some added inspiration from the Indiana Jones franchise (mostly Crystal Skull though). At just over two hours it isn't a total slog and reliable action director Juame Collet-Serra keeps the story moving at a fast enough clip that you can imagine families losing themselves in all the bells and whistles, as intended. But many more will have little difficulty filing Jungle Cruise under "not my thing," acknowledging its obvious strengths while recognizing it's nothing we haven't seen before.

Spiral: From the Book of Saw

Director: Darren Lynn Bousman
Starring: Chris Rock, Max Minghella, Marisol Nichols, Samuel L. Jackson, Dan Petronijevic, Richard Zeppieri, Patrick McManus, K.C. Collins, Zoie Palmer
Running Time: 93 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

When news broke a couple of years ago that Chris Rock had an idea to revitalize the struggling Saw franchise so promising that Lionsgate immediately signed off, interest was piqued. Much of that anticipation stemmed not only from the actor/comedian's direct involvement, but the bewilderment of what could possibly resuscitate a franchise that already blew its shot at rebirth with 2017's underwhelming Jigaw. Far from the "reboot" fans were promised, it only delivered more of the same, doing little for a series that remained on life support, straying so far from the series' initial intent that it became unrecognizable. 

Trampling over the simplicity of James Wan's thrilling 2004 original were a string of neverending sequels that each tried to top the body counts, gruesome traps, and superfulous law enforcement characters of its predecessors. And by prematurely killing off its main villain, everything then became about the gore, revolving around scenarios that were unnecessarily disgusting rather than clever, existing solely for shock value. It didn't even start as a horror franchise, but rather devolved into the worst kind of one, becoming at least partially responsible for introducing the term "torture porn" into the cultural lexicon. 

Now, after a year-long delay, Saw II, III and IV director Darren Lynn Bousman is back at the helm for Spiral, a spin-off that ends up being the best entry since he left. So while I'm still unsure about any new idea for the franchise including more law enforcement and copycat Jigsaws, it does fit the story this time and jumps off the page as a big improvement over most of the sequels. For once, the traps feel in service of the screenplay rather than the other way around and it doesn't look like it was shot in a septic tank, even featuring scenes that take place in actual daylight. With a pacing and style that deviates considerably from what's come before, it gets a fresh enough coat of paint while retaining just enough original elements to satisfy hardcore fans. 

Det. Ekekiel "Zeke" Banks (Rock) is an unpopular, insubordinate police officer assigned by Capt. Angie Garza (Marisol Nichols) to investigate the brutal death of his friend and colleague, Det. Marv Bozwick (Dan Petronijevic), who was hit by an oncoming train while chasing a perpetrator off-duty. Vocal in his complaints about the inner workings of the department, Zeke's begrudgingly assigned a new rookie partner for the case named William Schenk (Max Minghella), as both officers quickly realize the odd circumstances surrounding Bozwick's death point to a potential Jigsaw Killer copycat. 

With tapes and clues leading the way and a climbing body count, it becomes obvious the murderer is exclusively targeting corrupt cops, something Zeke knows about all to well, having snitched on his dirty co-workers years ago while serving under his father, the now-retired chief Marcus Banks (Samuel L. Jackson). Presently a pariah on the force and attempting to fix the fractured relationship with his dad, Zeke's struggling to stay a step ahead of the mysterious killer, whose motivations may cut deeper than anyone expected.

What's most noticeably different from the previous Saw films is how this looks. It still has that grungy, basement-dwelling aethetic but at least we're not watching something that seems to have been filmed in complete darkness. At points, the daylight scenes (itself an anomaly for this franchise) even look fairly slick, heightening the visual impact when the darker trap scenes eventually do arrive. And despite how they're shot and edited not differing all that much from the series norm, it doesn't feel as if we're being bombarded by too many of these gory sequences for no reason, which had long ago emerged as the series' biggest problem. 

Co-writers Josh Stolberg and Peter Goldfinger gradually build the story to each trap with Bousman judiciously spacing them out enough so that audience fatigue doesn't set in. Of course, there's the usual problematic irony that these victims don't really have much of a "choice" at all in these torture devices, unless you count perishing in two different, equally grisly ways as a selection. But it helps that there's at least a solid narrative foundation in place this time, as the plot follows a tight, linear path in which each clue leads to the next in a logical manner unseen since the franchise's infancy. 

Criticisms this all plays like a police procedural are valid, but also hardly worth complaining about since it's done well and the one thing this series desperately needed was that kind of straightforward structure to stay on course. Compared to its predecessors, this is practically a downright restrained character study in terms of the buddy-cop relationship that develops between frequently aggravated Zeke and his idealistic young partner. It feels very Training Day or Se7en, which helps in further solidifying that the characters actually have some agency here.

A dark departure from the roles he's known for tackling, Rock's casting is exactly what the entry needed, with the actor bringing a cutting, humorous edge that becomes invaluable to the dour proceedings. Combine that with Samuel L. Jackson's fiery intensity as a character with constantly questionable motives and you have a a pretty gripping dynamic throughout. It was always fun speculating how unexpected bigger name stars could acquit themselves a Saw movie and this is definitely the closest we've come, with better than anticipated results.

That Tobin Bell's John "Jigsaw" Kramer only appears in some newspaper clippings and gets a passing mention is the right call in terms of the story being told. As much as Bell's creepy performance provided the only worthwhile element in so many uneven sequels, we desperately needed a break if his only function is to be misused in flashbacks. Due to the machinations of this particular plot, the iconic pig head takes center stage in both the clues and recorded video form, with Billy The Puppet nowhere around, perhaps being saved for a future sequel. That's fine, but what's missed most is Bell's unmistakable voice, as his generic replacement sounds more like a nagging granny than a sinister serial killer. Of all the changes made, this is probably the only big miss, albeit one producers would try to explain away as starting anew with a fresh slate. With the series stuck in such a rut, it's an admirable approach, but they could have at least thought to electronically alter the voice to sound scarier and more threatening.  

Even for those who will claim to have seen the big twist at the end coming, the payoff's still no less effective. In fact, it's easily the most rewarding Saw finale in years in how it manages to cover all its bases, invoking genuine tension and excitement while returning the series to the moral complications it's initial premise was built on in 2004. The final minutes unfold as a bigger deal than we're used to,  with actual stakes. Supposedly, there are plans to spin this off into a TV series and given how everything shakes out, that actually doesn't seem out of the realm of possibility considering the format and style might lend itself well to that medium.

If the film's best moments recall Se7en and its worst recall previous Saw installments, there's relief in knowing what exists of the latter Bousman molds into something more digestable for the mainstream. For most horror franchises, that's a criticism, but this one went so far off the rails in abandoning the key tenets of its success that any change is welcome. A shot in the arm that puts story first, what Spiral means for the series moving forward is vaguer, but they could really be onto something by presenting these new films as standalones that aren't creatively beholden to all the inferior entries preceding it.