You (Season 3)

 

Creators: Greg Berlanti and Sera Gamble
Starring: Penn Badgley, Victoria Pedretti, Tati Gabrielle, Saffron Burrows, Shalita Grant, Travis Van Winkle, Dylan Arnold, Scott Speedman, Michaela McManus, Ben Mehl, Mackenzie Astin, Terryn Westbrook, Marcia Cross, Scott Michael Foster 
Original Airdate: 2021

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Few cable series have benefitted more from a jump to streaming than Netflix's You, which premiered its superior second season in late 2019 after languishing on Lifetime. Since then, the creative improvements have been so noticeable that you'd be hard-pressed to recognize it's the same show. Last season represented the apex of that achievement when creators Greg Berlanti and Sera Gamble transplanted stalking, serial killing former bookstore manager Joe Goldberg (Penn Badgley) from New York to L.A. with thrilling results. Hoping to put to bed the memory of his last obsession and victim, Guinevere Beck (Elizabeth Lail), he finds a new unhealthy relationship with chef Love Quinn (Victoria Pedretti). Of course, with the big twist being that she might be his perfect match, as psychotic and prone to violence as he is.

While last season ended with Joe and Love settling into the suburbs to begin their happy, ordinary life together, if we know anything about him and the series it's that he won't stay content for long. Best laid plans for a "happily ever after" are bound to be in constant jeopardy when these two toxic, damaged personalities attempt to co-exist as a normal married couple living under the same roof. The writers really milk this, forcing the viewer to pick sides this season as the pair constantly try to scheme and outmaneuver each other, extracting revenge for slights both real and imagined, all while attempting to suppress their worst impulses.

What distinguishes this from the superficially similar Dexter is Joe's bitingly sarcastic and self-aware recognition of his circumstances, and an equally dangerous partner in Love. But the biggest recent shift has been Joe's legitimate attempts to try to recognize what's right and do it, despite rarely accomplishing this feat and falling back into his old ways. That's a stark departure from its first season, which presented a nearly remorseless killer whose social media manipulation became his most defining characteristic. Badgley's performance always teeters on the edge of normalcy, giving audiences just enough hope that Joe could possibly turn things around. A wife and child give him an added incentive to try harder, while also providing just as many excuses not to.

Putting down roots in the San Francisco suburb of Madre Linda, the now-married Joe and Love are just starting to settle into a quaint existence with their newborn baby boy, Henry, when Joe starts having eyes for next door neighbor and realtor Natalie Engler (Michaela McManus). But just as his interest becomes more, Love takes matters into her own hands and kills Natalie, leaving both a physical and figurative mess for them to clean up just as she's planning to open her new bakery, "A Fresh Tart." 

With all of Madre Linda focused on finding Natalie, Joe and Love continue to project a facade of normalcy to the community, with the latter befriending local mom influencer Sherry Conrad (Shalita Grant) and her flaky supplement company owner husband, Cary (Travis Van Winkle). Meanwhile, Joe's working at the library, where he develops a burgeoning interest in his no-nonsense boss, Marienne Bellamy (Tati Gabrielle), a single mother struggling through some serious issues of her own.

As the Goldbergs' plan to cover-up Natalie's murder proves more complicated than expected, her distraught, pill popping CEO husband Matthew (Scott Speedman) grows suspicious, while his troubled college student son Theo (Dylan Arnold) develops a crush on a flattered Love, simultaneously consuming her with guilt and excitement. In keeping their horrific secret in the face of public suspicion, Joe and Quinn must somehow cooperate as a team even as their marriage crumbles under the weight of jealousy, mistrust and betrayal. With all their dreams of having a perfect family deteriorating into a nightmare, their relationship soon becomes a dangerous cat-and-mouse game.                

Minutes in, Joe's already sick of married suburban life as his attentions immediately turn to this married neighbor, which makes sense knowing his impulsive history. And that's merely the jumping off point for what the show continues to do so well, taking Joe's established pattern with Beck, only to continue it with Love, and now possibly again. But this season's more interested in deconstructing that entire idea, introducing Natalie as proof that Joe's inability to settle down or control his demons have little to do with his partner. There's no soulmate for someone we learn through flashbacks (this time involving his an abused school nurse from childhood) already had that soul damaged by his troubled upbringing. 

Still devastated by brother Forty's (James Scully) death and fighting with her controlling, alcoholic mom Dottie (Saffron Burrows), Love's not exactly a catch either. Trapped in a marriage of toxic co-dependency, what she and Joe most have in common is their ability to kill, even while sometimes vehemently disagreeing about the who and why.  Love's murder of Natalie sets in motion the series of crazy events that define these 10 episodes, bringing both their worst instincts to the surface, even as Joe really tries fighting back against what defines him. It's a slippery slope, as they try to cover their tracks and work together despite the rapidly eroding trust. 

The story of Joe's new obsession is more of a slow burn than in season's past, gradually evolving as Joe sorts out his feelings and wrestles with the accompanying guilt. Briefly, it might be the closest he's come yet to not seeming like a total stalker, as Badgley gives us passing glimpses of who a more adjusted Joe could be. But we know him too well by now, recognizing his interest in Marienne the librarian has much more to do with him feeding his narcissistic tendencies than it does her. It's easy to recognize everything he sees in this woman, and even while fitting the damaged type he typically latches onto, she transcends that narrow categorization thanks to the fortitude and grace rising star Tati Gabrielle brings to the role.

While completely grasping the idea of Marienne as Joe's idealization, Gabrielle still plays her with plenty of agency, as the character battles a recent history of addiction and tries to protect her daughter from slimy newcaster ex-husband Ryan (Scott Michael Foster). But the show's told from Joe's warped point of view and the writers make sure we don't forget it. 

Joe's still the one calculating every move, hoarding creepy keepsakes, breaking and entering and reminding us that as long as she's in his life in any capacity, she isn't safe. All the potentially disastrous scenarios involving Joe or even Love finding them out marinate in viewers' minds throughout the season, with the biggest source of tension coming from what could happen to Marienne, or even her daughter.  

The show's penchant for incorporating controversial, hot-button issues like cyber-stalking and pedophilia into its narrative continues this season with a sub-plot involving an anti-vaxxer parent, Gil, (Mackenzie Astin) who both is and isn't exactly what he appears. This again places the series well within its creative wheelhouse of reflecting reality, but twisting it just enough to provoke discussion and bring a little more out of the material. Love's inability to control herself when it comes to protecting her child might play as the character's most relatable moment thus far, especially when taken outside the context of her other actions. Victoria Pedretti gives this emotional whirlwind of a performance throughout, with Love's insecurity over their marriage pushing she and Joe over the edge. 

Love's bid for societal acceptance starts as strategy before evolving into what resembles a desperately genuine desire to fit in. At first glance, the phony, condescending Sherry Conrad and her himbo husband Cary couldn't seem any more broadly comedic or ridiculous, albeit in the best possible way. 

It's only when circumstances turn that Sherry and Cary are collectively revealed as more authentic than either Joe or Love could dream of being, while worthy of a begrudging amount of respect. And a lot of the success of these two characters can be attributed to Grant and Van Winkle's collective timing and chemistry, which evolves into one of the season's biggest highlights.

At first, it's hard to get a read on the grieving Matthew, with Scott Speedman playing him in a constant state of distracted, drugged-out insomnia, obsessed with obtaining the necessary surveillance footage he believes will uncover his wife's true killer. This comes at the expense of his fractured relationship with son Theo, who's fallen so hard for Love that it's blinded his ability to see that infatuation can't possibly end well. Before long, he'll just be another pawn in the Goldbergs' game to cover their tracks.

It isn't exactly a spoiler to reveal the reconstruction of Joe's infamous "cage," again located in a setting that makes for easy storage. Nor is it particularly suprising that it sees a lot of action this season, with big questions surrounding not only who gets locked in, but whether they'll be exiting with their lives. 

Digging out of holes is what this series does best, surrounding Joe with indispensably memorable and colorful supporting players who could drive a show of their own. It's the best and most frustrating element since we know there's a good chance a few may not survive past these ten episodes. Suprisingly, more loose ends are left than usual, which only increases speculation about what a fourth season will look like.

With Joe and Love working with and against each other in a battle for their own self-preservation, it ends the only way it can, as the writers continue making the tough but necessary decisions that mark each new installment as its own self-contained film with a concrete finale. The writers are always looking at the bigger picture in realizing the only way to ensure the show's successful continuation is to tear it all down again and move forward with another reset. Expertly combining horror thrills with soapy dramatics, You has officially hit its stride, remaining as wickedly smart and addictive as it's ever been.

Halloween Kills

Director: David Gordon Green
Starring: Jamie Lee Curtis, James Jude Courtney, Judy Greer, Andi Matichak, Will Patton, Anthony Michael Hall, Dylan Arnold, Thomas Mann, Charles Cyphers, Kyle Richards, Nancy Stephens, Omar Dorsey, Jim Cummings, Scott MacArthur, Michael McDonald
Running Time: 105 min.
Rating: R 

**The Following 'Halloween Kills' Review Contains Some Plot Spoilers**

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Even by Halloween franchise standards, David Gordon Green's sequel to his well-received 2018 reboot is insane in ways both thrilling and infuriating. If his initial installment took great pains to move as far away from the series' mythology as possible, retconning everything that came after John Carpenter's 1978 original, Halloween Kills does a complete 180, agressively engaging in call backs and fan service to the point that it nearly feels like a horror convention reunion. It even features one of sorts, as a major plot point revolves around the gathering of legacy survivors and flashbacks that frame past events in a new context. It's also overflowing with about as many characters as a horror film can contain, opening up its world while shifting some focus away from the three main heroines.

With Blumhouse delivering something that feels more akin to a Friday The 13th installment, complete with a Rob Zombie-like zest for brutality and gore, the envelope's pushed in terms of how much enjoyment that can be creatively derived from within the confines of this property, or even the genre itself. We've been kidding ourselves for a while now with Halloween as it's continued to ride the goodwill of a 40-year-old classic, all while fans cling to potentially getting a new film worthy of sharing its title with the groundbreaking original. 

2018 gave us the return of Jamie Lee Curtis to her most famous role and a respectable writing and directing team at the helm promising a return to basics. Bolstered by Carpenter's credit as a producer, that film may have been a minor triumph, but a certain ceiling and stigma have remained from the sequel silliness endured by fans through the years. As messy as it is, Halloween Kills doesn't pretend to be anything other than what it is, never dragging despite a number of elements that could have been excised without consequence. But no matter where this lands in the rankings, it still strangely fits in with the rest, while also managing to stand on its own as a major outlier.  

Immediately following the events that occurred on Halloween night, 2018, a seriously injured Laurie Strode (Curtis), her daughter Karen (Judy Greer) and grandaughter Allyson (Andi Matichak) rush to Haddonfield Memorial Hospital as the Strode residence burns to the ground with Michael Myers (James Jude Courtney) still trapped in the basement. When the firefighters arrive, they're systematically picked off one-by-one by the The Shape, who survived the blaze and now has his sights set on terrorizing Haddonfield before going "home" once again. Meanwhile, Allyson's ex-boyfriend Cameron (Dylan Arnold) discovers deputy Frank Hawkins (Will Patton) bleeding and clinging to life after having been stabbed and run over by Dr. Sartain. He'll soon be joining Laurie in the ICU, even as he's still haunted by the results of an encounter he had with Michael on Halloween night 1978 that led to a fellow officer's death. 

At a local bar, another Michael survivor, Tommy Doyle (Anthony Michael Hall) has gathered with friends Marion Chambers (Nancy Stephens), Lindsey Wallace (Kyle Richards) and Cameron's dad, Lonnie Elam (Robert Longstreet) to mark the 40th anniversary of Michael's imprisonment. Unbeknownst to them, he's already returned to Haddonfield and is still on the loose, continuing his murderous rampage. After hearing the news, a determined Tommy begins organizing a mob of other furious Haddonfield townsfolk intent on capturing and killing Michael, whose body count is sure to increase as he lurks in the shadows, stalking his next victims.

Green doesn't exactly pick up where he left off, opting instead for flashbacks to previously unseen events involving a young officer Hawkins (Thomas Mann) the night of Laurie's ordeal in '78, as well as a backstory of a young, bullied Lonnie (Tristian Eggerling) and his close encounter with Michael (Airon Armstrong). This is a hard, sharp turn considering the 2018 reboot was built on the promise of a fresh start, free from the baggage that followed the original. For an opening, it's fine, aesthetically recreating the atmosphere of the late 70's Haddonfield well enough with a believable performance from Mann, but when Green breaks into the already loaded present-day action to revisit this throughout, it does become a bit much.

While those scenes work, they certainly don't simplify things, and there may be a 50/50 split among fans about being visually treated to a new scene at the Myers house that would have only otherwise existed in our imaginations. The Star Wars-like digitized audio sampling of Donald Pleasence's voice as Dr. Loomis (played by Tom Jones Jr. in the flashback), comes off far better than it should, only leaving the question of whether any of this is entirely neccessary. Still, it gives the picture an unusually old school start that segues into the franchise's classic pumpkin title sequence, complete with John Carpenter, Cody Carpenter and Daniel Davies' hypnotizing score, arguably the most valuable element in both Green films.   

The idea of a horror sequel, or even specifically a Halloween, picking up minutes after the previous one concludes is tremendously smart because it keeps the narrative momentum going. That concept is somewhat blunted here, with not only the insertion of an opening flashback, but even a scene from 1981's Halloween II, which shouldn't technically exist if we're holding Green to his word about this trilogy. With Laurie bedridden at Haddonfield Memorial Hospital for much of the first hour, it's natural to assume we're being set up for another round of Laurie vs. Michael in the same vein and setting that closed the original sequel. Luckily, this doesn't happen, maybe partly because the script can only squeeze in so many callbacks, topping out long before that. Most of them involve the group of survivors led by a revenge-consumed Tommy. Their storyline is undoubtedly engrossing, even as it does temporarily push the three generations of Strode women to the sidelines at the hospital, grappling with the realization that they didn't finish off Michael after all.

The Boogeyman is definitely in top form, with James Jude Courtney again an imposing presence in kill scenes that carry more emotional weight than usual due his eventual victims getting more screen time and personality this go around. Green also lingers on the deaths in ways he didn't in his previous outing, both in registering their reaction to impending doom and as the life escapes their eyes in the final moments. It isn't gratuitous as much as disturbing, with the slaying of a bickering elderly couple (played by Diva Tyler and Lenny Clarke) standing out as especially bone-chilling and uncomfortable.

Costumed doctor and nurse couple Vanessa (Carmela McNeal) and Marcus (Michael Smallwood) return in larger supporting roles, providing surprisingly fun comic relief, as do new, noteworthy characters Big John (Scott MacArthur) and Little John (MADtv's great Michael McDonald) a same-sex couple currently occupying the Myers residence. Transitions between this kind of comedy and the slayings aren't as jarring or clumsily handled as they've been in previous outings, rarely resulting in the usual tonal whiplash associated with the series. There's also a great deal of suspense generated from a forest scene involving Kyle Richards' Lindsey, who, aside from Anthony Michael Hall, leaves the most lasting impression of the legacy cast.

Hall presents a jarring Tommy Doyle, who proves to be a far cry from Paul Rudd's version in Halloween 6. It turns out that kid Laurie babysat grew up to be a one-man vigilante machine with a shaved head and brutish obsession with revenge, while still remaining a decent enough guy to root for. Michael's return changes everything for him as he rallies the Haddonfield mob in what ends up being the most controversial aspect of an an already polarizing film. Green doesn't quite connect the dots with whatever socio-political statement he's trying to make about mob mentality, but when the angry residents descend upon the hospital with blood lust in their eyes, what unfolds is comparable to a car crash you can't turn away from, or more accurately, a modern day take on The Twilight Zone episode, "The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street." 

The hospital riot provides Judy Greer with one of her two big showcase sequences, perhaps to make up for playing a somewhat smaller role opposite Curtis last time. If Andi Matichak stepped up to emerge as one of the stronger components of H18 as Allyson, now it's Greer's turn. Matichak impresses again, especially toward the final act, but it'll be Karen's literal face-to-face with a maskless Myers that's talked about. Recognizing the value that still remains in keeping Michael's features a mystery, Green is careful to show just enough, but not too much as to demystify him. Someone had to go, and it wasn't going to be Laurie, with key lynchpin Curtis still due for her final showdown with Michael. Matichak's Allyson is the next generation, so process of elimination leaves us with the only major death possible, done in a way that cleverly calls back to the '78 original, all while ensuring there's still hell to pay in Halloween Ends.    

More than most, this effort represents the idea that we've all reached a point where it's just not important whether some masterpiece Halloween movie ever comes down the pike again. And that might not be such a bad thing. So while it's possible a much better film could have emerged without the extra post-production time afforded to overthink certain decisions, that's not likely knowing the franchise's track record. Instead, we're left to be entertained by an installment that's sure to be argued about and rewatched for some time to come. And the first since Zombie's underrated 2009 Halloween II to take some real risks, both for better and worse. It's not hard to imagine this getting a similar reappraisal down the line, as its flaws possibly iron out with future viewings.  

Green getting a jump on some of these characters and ideas in 2018 probably would have led to a smoother, less busy result, but the craziness is a big part of its charm. That can't always be said for a lot of these. Some of the worst entries manage to be dull and poorly made, two categories under which Halloween Kills definitely wouldn't fall. While frequently overindulging, at least Green isn't phoning it in, clearly laying the groundwork for what's next. Everything points toward a more streamlined finale that's sure to focus almost entirely on Laurie and Michael. But this sure took us on a wild ride to get there.    

Intrusion

Director: Adam Salky
Starring: Freida Pinto, Logan Marshall-Green, Robert John Burke, Sarah Minnich, Yvette Fazio-Delaney, Clint Obenchain, Mark Silvertstein, Megan Elisabeth Kelly   
Running Time: 92 min.
Rating: NR

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Netflix's Intrusion features one of those impossibly cool modern houses that you either see exclusively in movies like this or within the pages of Architectural Digest. Cavernous, sleekly sterile and set alone against a vast desert landscape, it's the real star, but won't be mistaken for a "home" so much as an impeccably designed building where two people happen to sleep. In this instance, the lack of a security system could serve as the equivalent of a blinking neon sign reading, "Intruders Welcome." It should take the average viewer less than 15 minutes to figure out things are off since home invasions are rarely ever about home invasions at all, the actual break-in functioning as an inciting plot device for the script to take us somewhere else. 

Director Adam Salky's film is about secrets between spouses and much of its first half is at least partially successful and competent at conveying that, bolstered by some strong acting, a fairly intriguing set-up and a patient groundswell of suspense. Then it shows its cards too early. Way too early. And we're left wondering what's left while awaiting the protagonist to come to conclusions we already arrived at a while earlier. The film's in a tough spot because there's only one explanation to the mystery when no other alternative makes sense. Still, you hope for one because, from a craft standpoint, it's not terrible as far as thrillers like these go. But once everything's all laid out, it's just kind of done.

Married couple Meera (Frieda Pinto) and Henry (Logan Marshall-Green) have just moved from Boston to their new dream house in Coralles, New Mexico, designed and built by architect Henry. A recent breast cancer survivor, Meera is on edge worrying that the disease may return, but her husband's unqualified support provides great comfort, as they share phone-less date nights to go out and relax. After one, they return to discover the house has been burglarized, and at the urging of the local police Detective Morse (Robert John Burke), Henry installs a security system. A few nights later, the electricity goes out and they're awakened when masked men intrude, tying Meera up as Henry uses his hidden gun, shooting them. 

Henry wants to move past all this while Meera is traumatized, only further rattled that one of the men her husband shot could potentially have important information regarding a missing local girl (Megan Elisabeth Kelly). As strange clues pop up about the intruders, Meera does some digging, discovering that Henry may be holding some info back about what these men were really after. Soon she's torn between her loyalty to him and discovering the ugly truth of what happened, as dangerous as that may be. 

The home invasion is merely warm-up for what follows, as screenwriter Chris Sparling sows the seeds of doubt and mistrust between a couple who up to that point seemed to have an ideal marriage. But their far differing reactions to this event bring certain questions to the surface and the script is none too subtle in announcing this is about never really knowing the person you're with. That's made abundantly clear when the rest of the film's running time consists almost entirely of Meera sleuthing around town and in the house to find answers, all while Henry sensitively tries to convince her there's nothing to worry about.

It's a pleasure seeing Freida Pinto anchoring this since she brings more to the role than most would, rarely playing Meera as any kind of damsel in distress, entirely cerebral in her actions and asserting real agency to get answers viewers have already beaten her to. The wheels are always turning, and even if her character has a handful of intelligent, quietly intense moments opposite Henry, it's just not helpful that we know the entire outcome long before her suspicions truly kick in. 

Logan Marshall-Green continues his formidable streak as an acting chameleon, again unrecognizably disappearing deep enough into a part that you'd have trouble picking him out of a lineup. Clean cut, calm and reassuring, it's tough to believe this is even the same bearded, disheveled guy everyone mistook for Tom Hardy in 2015's far superior residential thriller, The Invitation. And yet he finds ways to make Henry just a little too smooth and impossibly supportive enough that we have to stop and consider something's not quite right. 

With each unsurprising turn of the plot, the restraint and nuance Pinto and Green attempt to bring to the material is dampened when the wheels fly off the narrative heading toward the "big reveal." As much as their performances do keep it watchable as it crosses the finish line, the script really pushes the envelope far in terms of predictibility, regardless of whether it even makes logical sense. The acting, some nice photography and admittedly impressive production design become harder to tout as major accomplishments when viewers are yelling at their screens for a the main character to figure it out already. 

While the closing minutes are tension-filled and relatively well directed by Salky, it's hamstrung by the inevitability that Intrusion can only go so far. With a pay off that shares more in common with a random Saw entry than you'd hope, the end result isn't boring, just entirely forgettable, which is a shame considering how the early scenes teased a potential sophistication to the material that could have been built upon. But by patterning itself after other thrillers of the same ilk, it's indistinguishable, wasting an opportunity to present a more deeply disturbing social commentary.         

The Guilty

Director: Antoine Fuqua
Starring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Riley Keough, Peter Sarsgaard, Eli Goree, Ethan Hawke, Da'Vine Joy Randolph, Christiana Montoya, Paul Dano, Gillian Zinser
Running Time: 90 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

It's understandable that some just won't be onboard for Antoine Fuqua's single location crime thriller The Guilty, citing its superficial similarities to 2013's The Call, starring Halle Berry. There's also a general belief that movies advertised as "thrillers" should take place in various locales, with breakneck action scenes involving multiple actors playing characters engaged in direct conflict with each other. It hasn't helped that recent circumstances have given us less of that than we've ever imagined, causing the novelty of these stripped down efforts to wear off considerably. But despite a title that makes it sound more like a Grisham adaptation, the thrills Fuqua provides are slightly more cerebral in nature and are kind of a departure for a filmmaker known for bombastic efforts like Training Day, Olympus Has Fallen and The Equalizer. Nothing he does feels small, but this arguably comes closest, clocking in at a tight hour and a half that's best described as a claustrophobic morality play centering around a polarizing, even intensely dislikable protagonist. 

Playing a man unexpectedly forced to come to terms with his failings, Jake Gyllenhaal's performance finds the actor again in Nightcrawler mode, nearly dripping in emotional and physical desperation for the film's entire duration. He's somewhat of a monster, easily triggered and prone to fits of explosive rage while giving us glimpses of someone with an urgent need to help that isn't coming from the healthiest place. But that matters less upon realizing a personality this damaged may actually be a better fit for this emergency than most. Never held accountable or called out on anything, it's his day of reckoning, with Gyllenhaal suspensely holding this character's feet to the fire right through to its twist-laden finale. 

Embattled LAPD officer Joe Baylor (Gyllenhaal) is working the night shift as a dispatcher at the 911 call center following an unspecified incident for which he's awaiting a hearing the following day. Already on his last nerve due to that and problems with his ex-wife Jess (Gillian Zinser) over their daughter, Joe receives call from a woman named Emily (Riley Keough), who reveals she's been abducted by a man in a white van. Without a plate number to go on and fires blazing in the L.A. area making visibility difficult, Joe's forced to grasp at any lead he can, including Emily's ex-husband and prime suspect Henry (Peter Sarsgaard) and their scared six-year old daughter, Abby (Christiana Montoya) While able to contact all of them, the situation proves much more complicated than expected, as the asthmatic, exhausted Joe unravels under the weight of his impending hearing and former partner Rick's (Eli Goree) testimony. Calling upon all his experience and the clock rapidly ticking down, Joe must find a way to save Emily's life, while still fixing his own.

Depending upon perspective, Joe is either the worst person to be on duty at a 911 call center this night or the best. Whether it be supervisors, co-workers or even the callers themselves, he lashes out at or berates anyone with whom he encounters. To say he easily loses his patience would seem to imply he has any to start, as the unknown incident for which he could be facing criminal charges has him at the end of his rope, irritable as ever. But the no-nonsense approach he brings as an officer can't be discounted, even as he frequently oversteps his bounds by bullying everyone involved into doing what he wants so this woman can be found. Sometimes it works, with fellow officers and dispatchers caving to his demands, but in many other instances it doesn't, checked and reminded at every turn he isn't exactly in a power position given his own potential legal problems. 

There are many points where Gyllenhaal makes you respect the fact that Joe's highly aggressive tactics and experience are needed to get this done, since without that, it's entirely impossible the call would be in the hands of someone lesser qualified or not nearly as invested in following through. This is the rollercoaster the actor takes us on, as Joe's outbursts of anger are interspersed with quieter moments of consolation he offers Emily that can only come from both being parents. It's through this, and the crime crime Joe's been accussed of, that we can finally view his behavior in full context, grasping his obsessive determination to rescue this woman. 

Fuqua keeps us entrenched enough in the plot to distract from the fact all the action takes place entirely in the call center, even as it's Gyllenhaal taking us through all the painful modulations of this officer's night from hell. There are some familar names providing the disembodied voices at the other end of the phone, but you'd be hard-pressed to recognize any without looking at the credits, which was a smart casting move that keeps focus only on the story. Of them, Riley Keough probably has the heaviest lifting to do as Emily, caught in a perpetual state of fear and distress that only worsens with each call and subsequent development.  The plot's stretched a little thin in the last act as it boils to a point where you really expect things could bleed over into the "real world." But other than brief flashbacks and hazy glimpses of vans and headlights, it doesn't really go there and whether it should have will likely provide debate fodder for afterwards. 

Since the whole movie is essentially an escalating series of phone calls, it's possible a surprise excursion out of this call center could have given the already suspenseful finish an extra jolt. Of course, that could just as easily misfire so it's tough to blame Fuquaua and screenwriter Nic Pizzolatto for so closely adhering to the 2018 Danish film on which it's based. Both for better and worse The Guilty surprises, starting as one story before evolving into something slightly different and more ambitious, the hints of such were being dropped the entire time. But Gylennhaal turns that occasionally frustrating journey into a deeper character study, providing glimpses into this man's damaged psyche, transcending whatever creative limitations may have existed on the page.     

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.