Dexter: Resurrection (Season 1)

Creator: Clyde Phillips
Starring: Michael C. Hall, Uma Thurman, Jack Alcott, David Zayas, Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine, Kadia Saraf, Dominic Fumusa, Emilia Suárez, James Remar, Peter Dinklage, Eric Stonestreet, Steve Schirripa, John Lithgow, Erik King, Jimmy Smits, Marc Menchaca, C.S. Lee, Desmond Harrington, Neil Patrick Harris, Krysten Ritter, David Dastmalchian, Christian Camargo
Original Airdate: 2025

**The Following Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers**

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Having last seen former Miami Metro forensics expert and vigilante killer Dexter Morgan lying lifeless in the snow after being shot by his own son, the anti-hero got about as conclusive a finish as we've seen since Walter White's demise in Breaking Bad. But in one of the more shocking TV developments in recent years, Dexter returns with its best iteration yet after seemingly concluding for good after 2022's underappreciated New Blood finale. 

For those still upset how the original series signed off in 2013, that ending should have been their antidote, as Dexter's crimes weren't only exposed, but he accepted his fate, willingly facing consequences at the hands of the person he hurt most. Instead, fans proved they're still tough to please, even when given what they've claimed to want all along. But no matter how anyone feels about creator and showrunner Clyde Phillips' creative decisions, the announcement of three new impending Dexter shows (including the now cancelled prequel Original Sin) prompted justifiable skepticism.  

The idea of picking up where New Blood left off may have caused jaws to drop, but whatever ideas remained from its hypothetical second season now morphs into the brilliant Dexter: Resurrection, which isn't just a huge departure from the formula, but sets a new bar for the franchise as a whole. Armed with a fresh setting, top notch writing and acting, a dream cast and possibly its most potent villain yet, these ten thrilling episodes find a physically and psychologically spent Dexter at the end of his rope. Reckoning with his past while facing the reality he's brought more harm than good to those closest to him, he'll try not to squander a second chance at being the father he couldn't before. 

This is a different, more determined Dexter, intent on controlling his dark side to protect the only person who still matters. But after finding a safe space where his worst impulses are accepted and encouraged, he finds dangerous strings attached, just as a familiar face from his past reemerges to take him down. Full of mind blowing developments, this season finds the show firing on all cylinders, finally giving fans something they can unanimously agree on. 

Dexter Morgan (Michael C. Hall) has awakened from a ten week coma after suffering a near-fatal gunshot wound at the hands of his son Harrison (Jack Alcott), who's since fled Iron Lake for New York City. Still believing his father died, he works as a bellhop at the Empire Hotel while Dexter continues to recover. But when Harrison snaps, killing a sexual predator to prevent the rape of a hotel guest, the crime immediately grabs the attention of meticulously wired NYPD homicide detective Claudette Wallace (Kadia Saraf) and her skeptical partner Oliva (Dominic Fumusa). 

Upon hearing of the killer's familiar body disposal method, Dexter heads to NYC to help Harrison. Unfortunately, former Miami Metro police captain, colleague and friend Angel Batista (David Zayas) trails behind, more determined than ever to prove Dexter's guilt. But as deceased adoptive father Harry (James Remar) reappearing as his inner consciousness, Dexter watches Harrison from afar, forging a friendship with kindly rideshare driver and new landlord Blessing (Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine). 

It's only when serial killer Ron "Red" Schmidt (Marc Menchaca) is branded with Dexter's own "Dark Passenger" moniker for murdering the city's drivers that his vengeful yearnings take hold, leading him to a secret society of serial killers funded by billionaire philanthropist Leon Prater (Peter Dinklage). But as Batista closes in on Dexter, an impressed Prater takes a real liking to his newest recruit, despite suspicions from icy, loyal head of security Charley (Uma Thurman). Now Dexter not only needs to protect his cover, but also Harrison, who he's on the cusp of reconnecting with. 

You'd figure it would be impossible to explain away Dexter surviving that apparently fatal gunshot wound at the end of New Blood, but the writers cleverly manage to do this logically. And while there are still minor plot holes, it's surprising just how cleverly they account for him not being booked on murder charges, clearing the table for a next crucial chapter. 

As Dexter fights for his life, some of the show's most pivotal figures reappear to him in a vision, offering valuable insight into his past and potential future. It plays as kind of a series highlight reel, with John Lithgow's Trinity Killer, Jimmy Smits' Miguel Prado and even Erik King's Sgt. Doakes returning to remind him that Harrison needs his best. Of course, the most important voice occupying Dexter's mind is his Dark Passenger, conveyed through the hallucinatory presence of late father Harry. 

Remar's role as Harry only gains greater significance after seeing how Christian Slater's take on the elder Morgan in Original Sin shed additional light on the impetus of he and Dexter's complicated bond. And it's also why this season functions as a closer companion to the prequel than original series, with the two trading barbs back-and-forth throughout. Ghost Harry may be hilariously sarcastic and disapproving, but Dexter gives it right back as he expresses serious hesitancy at the notion of reentering Harrison's life.

Moonlighting as a rideshare driver shortly after arriving in NYC, an emotionally paralyzed Dexter knows Harrison needs help but has no idea how to approach a son who still thinks he killed him. And while Jack Alcott impressed in New Blood, many didn't count on him getting the chance to reprise this role again, much less add so many new wrinkles to a character who's endured a lot. 

Though Dexter and Harry are both responsible for the deaths of their son's mothers, Harrison isn't necessarily destined to follow in their flawed footsteps despite also being "born in blood." Like Dexter, Harrison has the ability to fit in anywhere, finding a job and a place to temporarily crash, even managing to easily make friends without the social awkwardness that defines his dad. Where he differs is in feeling remorse for a crime committed not out of an uncontrollable urge, but a desire to help someone. It's his very fear of becoming Dexter that stands as the most conclusive proof he isn't.  

Harrison just goes too far in the moment, recognizing this in a self reflective way Dexter never could when his reckless behavior harmed those he loved most, like Rita and Deb. It's a moral distinction that more closely aligns Harrison with his late mom than a dad who continues to view himself as a "Dark Avenger." In actuality, he'd be better off taking lessons on being a superhero from his own son. 

Much of Harrison's story revolves around Dexter realizing he can't be the father Harry was for him since the youngest Morgan lacks that Dark Passenger gene. The kid just needs his dad, which doesn't mean Harrison isn't still shaped by Dexter's past, whether he's being drawn to rescuing co-worker and single mom Elsa (Emilia Suárez) or potentially pursuing a career in law enforcement. 

True to his character, Harrison's also a bad liar who finds himself in the crosshairs of neurodivergent, Bee Gee's loving homicide detective Wallace. Fittingly played by Law and Order alum Saraf as the smartest, most observant cop either Morgan could encounter, she quickly puts the pieces together, zeroing in on the nervous bellhop as her prime suspect. Watching Harrison clumsily try to cover his tracks before stammering under the pressure of Wallace's questioning, we're reminded of young Dexter's mistakes in Original Sin, minus the eager enthusiasm. 

Harrison hates himself for pulling the trigger, but also despises his dad for asking him to, even as Dexter rightly accepts the blame. It won't be until he saves his son from a growing mountain of circumstantial evidence that the ice between them starts thawing. But while everyone's new favorite UrCar driver shows promising signs of selflessness in his conversations with Harrison and bond with Blessing and his family, the darkness persists. Having already eliminated Dark Passenger knock-off Red, Dexter can't pass on joining an exclusive serial killers club, regardless of whether he was officially invited. And though his best lies always contain an abundance of truth, he's really playing with fire this time. 

Surreal as it is to see Uma Thurman in the Dexter universe, her introductory scene goes quite a distance in establishing the badass Charley as a cold, calculated fixer who doesn't suffer fools. Clad in tactical gear, she slyly maneuvers herself into Red's apartment, leaving the gift and dinner invitation Dexter claims as his own, making it that much easier to speculate just how dangerous her boss is. 

While Dinklage's Leon Prater is a serious threat, he's not your usual Dexter adversary, giving the newest member of his secret society an enthusiastically warm welcome. But with each word, expression and mannerism, Dinklage subtly hints at a god complex bubbling beneath, suggesting much more to this wealthy collector with a mysterious past. 

Dexter may be Prater's latest prize, but he's hardly the first, as confirmed by a trophy room filled with personally obtained effects and evidence from infamous serial killers such as John Wayne Gacy, Ted Bundy, Son of Sam, Jeffrey Dahmer and the fictitious "New York Ripper" Detective Wallace has devoted her career to catching. 

Of course, that elaborate display that wouldn't be complete without souvenirs from Trinity, Dexter's Ice Truck Killer brother Brian Moser (Christian Camargo) and the legendary Bay Harbor Butcher, who Prater has now unknowingly let into his inner sanctum.

The reveal of this vault might be the season's creepiest scene but what stands out more is Dexter's reaction to seeing his infamous blood slides or the gurney on which he ended Brian's life. And any lie he tells as Red reveals more than a bit of truth about himself, his mask dropping at many points, much to the delight of a giddy, starstruck Prater. 

Joining Dinklage and Thurman is a stacked supporting ensemble comprising of Krysten Ritter, David Dastmalchian, Neil Patrick Harris and Eric Stonestreet as the various killers, each of whom have their own twisted methodology. Ritter's "Lady Vengeance" and Dastmalchian's "Gemini" leave the largest impressions, not just due to their chilling performances, but how their characters are written and played to reflect different aspects of Dexter, who adheres to a code neither could possibly understand or abide by. 

All of these members have a loose, preconceived sets of rules, but they're really no different than Dexter's many other cold blooded victims, regardless of how closely their past traumas resemble his. With Ritter's Mia, it's a dysfunctional family history while Dastmalchian's Gareth dredges up Dexter's unresolved baggage with his own brother. 

Despite her penchant for offing sexual predators, Mia isn't the heroic vigilante the media or Dexter assumed, even if she still proves valuable in his quest to protect Harrison. Unsure whether to befriend or murder these killers, Dexter treads carefully at first, calculating the risk of everyone disappearing immediately after he's joined the group. 

Impressed and deliriously pleased by his newest recruit, we get the impression serial killer fanboy Prater might be ecstatic after uncovering Dexter's true identity, especially since most everything else Dexter reveals about his tortured soul is true. And the more we learn about Prater's Bruce Wayne-like backstory, the clearer it becomes why he's so intrigued by his favorite pupil's unusual "share" with the group. 

But whatever childhood commonalities he may share with Dexter, Prater thrives on manipulation and control, getting his kicks from others needing him to survive. Expertly conveying both sides of this meglomaniac, an Emmy-worthy Dinklage inhabits a greedy monster who wields superficial generosity as a weapon, his wealth merely a means to own people for personal amusement. 

While Prater exhibits uncontainable excitement at the members' various kills and methods, Charley acts as his loyal soldier, particularly suspicious of Dexter from day one. But even her allegiance to the boss extends only so far as we gradually learn the true nature of their arrangement, leading to some intense, vulnerable work from Thurman in the home stretch. 

With Batista continuing to close in on a united Dexter and Harrison, it's only a matter of time before it all lands on Prater's lap. If Dexter fails again in keeping Harrison safe, much of that can be traced to his own past haunting him in the form of Batista. Now that the co-worker and friend he bonded with for over twenty years knows he's the  Bay Harbor Butcher, every Batista memory is tainted by the totality of Dexter's crimes. Most especially the deaths of ex-wife Maria and Sgt. Doakes.

All of this provides David Zayas with the chance to play an obsessive, unhinged version of his beloved character who'll stop at nothing for justice, despite being recently retired. The problem lies in him having only vaguely circumstantial evidence of Dexter's guilt,along with the fact he's impersonating an active law enforcement officer. 

While we know Batista's right about everything, it's understandable why he'd start looking like a crazed madman to Wallace or just about anyone else, including promoted former colleague and friend Lieutenant Quinn (a returning Desmond Harrington).  

Though Batista's attempt to catch the Butcher in action backfires spectacularly and destroys his case, Dexter's respect for him doesn't waver. His warnings to back off aren't threats, but pleas, knowing it always ends badly for those who choose this path. And that's exactly what happens to Batista once he meets Prater, who's predictably wowed to be in the same room as the notorious Bay Harbor Butcher. Only we know Dexter could never bring himself to kill Batista, or at least not for the sole purpose of indulging Prater's sick thrills. 

It's ultimately Batista's hatred and sense of justice that consumes him, angrily sacrificing his own life to destroy Dexter, who underestimated just how much pain and damage he caused. Even without literally killing Deb, Maria, Doakes or Rita, he remains unquestionably responsible for their deaths, causing any apologies to ring hollow. 

Dexter probably knew Batista aligning with him was a long shot, and unlike in his earlier fallout with Blessing, doesn't receive the forgiveness he genuinely seeks. So hurt and rattled by Batista's dying words, all he can do now is let out an anguished, primal scream.

Dexter's relationship with Harrison is the one he ends up salvaging, simply by being somewhat transparent and accepting that his son isn't him. Prater's machinations seal his own fate once Charley realizes she's also had enough, paving the way for Dexter to deny him a dignity even his most depraved victims receive. Categorizing Prater as irrelevant and unmemorable, Dexter uses the puppet master's own words against him, spitefully foregoing the minimal attention a blood slide could provide.  

Where this resembles the original series is in a lack of cliffhangers or loose ends, with the book closing until a new season, whether that's in NYC or possibly somewhere else. Just about the only lingering thread is the question of Batista's body being found in the vault, which glaringly links Dexter and Prater. It'll be interesting to see if this raises any red flags, assuming the writers choose to go there. 

The closing image of Dexter on a yacht as he disposes of Prater is the scene we didn't know we needed, calling back to his days in Miami. And with unfortunate cancellation of Original Sin, it might be the closest we'll get, at least for now. With Dexter wrestling with the reality of who he is, this season was all about Harrison helping him learn how to better control and accept it. And while we all know Michael C. Hall's versatile enough to tackle any other project right now, this showcased exactly why he shouldn't. Much like the actor who plays him, Dexter's back where he belongs, even if it'll be an excruciating wait to see what comes next.                                                                                                                          

I Know What You Did Last Summer (2025)

Director: Jennifer Kaytin Robinson
Starring: Madelyn Cline, Chase Sui Wonders, Jonah Hauer-King, Tyriq Withers, Sarah Pidgeon, Billy Campbell, Freddie Prinze Jr., Jennifer Love Hewitt, Gabbriette Bechtel, Austin Nichols, Joshua Orpin, Georgia Flood, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Brandy Norwood
Running Time: 111 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★)  

In the pantheon of horror movie villains, The Fisherman may have trouble cracking most's top ten lists, and yet, 1997's I Know What You Did Last Summer still manages to impressively retain a devoted following of hardcore fans. Riding the wave that began with Wes Craven's Scream, a week couldn't go by in the 90's or early 2000's without teen audiences getting variations on that film's formula, even if lacking its subversive wit. So a few of the era's hottest stars, a deadly fishing hook and a somewhat compelling whodunnit was all it took, even if many wouldn't pass a quiz on key plot points or the killer's identity after it ended. 

While nothing about the original stood out from similar projects in the genre released that decade, there's something to be said for getting there second and holding on long enough to earn an underwhelming follow-up, a worse direct-to-video sequel and a short-lived streaming series. For almost thirty years, it's sort of endured, proving nostalgia goes a long way, both for those old enough to have their early moviegoing experiences shaped by it and a newer generation just discovering the franchise. It wasn't a terrible idea to do this, but the bar's set higher now, as co-writer/director Jennifer Kaytin Robinson's take closely follows the basic blueprint, leaving us with a modernized, mechanical update in search of a consistent tone.    

It's the Fourth of July and Ava (Chase Sui Wonders) is returning home to Southport, North Carolina to attend friend Danica's (Madelyn Cline) engagement party before she, Danica, Ava's ex Milo (Jonah Hauer King), Danica's fiancé Teddy (Tyriq Withers) and former classmate Stevie (Sarah Pidgeon) go out to watch the fireworks. But when a drunken Teddy causes a commotion in the middle of the road that leads to an oncoming vehicle swerving off the side of a cliff, its driver is presumed dead. Despite Ava's pleas for them to contact the police, Teddy vows everyone to secrecy while his politically influential father Grant (Billy Campbell) covers up the accident. 

Flash forward a year later and Ava's back for Danica's bridal shower, meeting her friend's new fiancé Wyatt (Joshua Orpin) and reuniting with the rest of the gang. Only now, Danica receives a mysteriously threatening note just as a new hook wielding fisherman starts targeting those involved in the crash. But while Ava seeks the help of original survivor Julie James (Jennifer Love Hewitt), the local government and police work to hide any signs of unrest in their idyllic tourist town. That is until Julie's ex-husband Ray Bronson (Freddie Prinze Jr.) reemerges to remind everyone what happened in 1997, as they all unite to uncover the Fisherman's identity and stop the carnage.

Once you get past a somewhat clunky opening, its premise of karmic retribution for careless, selfish behavior was promising the first time around and still is. But Robinson and Leah McKendrick's script telegraphs the most unnecessary, unlikable characters right away, marking them for obvious exits that usually involve a harpoon through the chest. 

As the victims' gutted corpses are displayed for the public to ogle, the script assembles a suspect list that not only includes those aforementioned friends, but other shadier characters like obsessed true crime podcast host Tyler (Gabbriette Bechtel) and the potentially evil Pastor Judah (Austin Nichols). Of course by description alone both are such genre stereotypes that you can immediately cancel them out as possible killers. 

Of the core five, Danica's a ditzy partier, Teddy's a drunk who can't get over their break-up, Stevie's a recovering drug addict, Wyatt's a non-entity, while pure intentioned Ava has a conscience, making her our likeliest Final Girl candidate. And in setting up a very familiar scenario where it could be anyone, the story gradually takes on this sort of feminist slant that may actually remind some of 2019's polarizing Black Christmas remake. 

More noteworthy is the dynamic within town, as corrupt officials bend over backwards to erase the '97 murders from collective memory in an attempt to preserve Southport's thriving economy. Now as the killings ramp up again, they double down on denials and gaslighting, with Campbell's greedy land developer attempting to channel Mayor Vaughn from Jaws. This and the potential of a conspiracy surrounding these crimes would contain promise, if only the town had a hint of local color or sense of place to help convey a community on edge.

Since Chase Sui Wonders already seems on track to break out as a star, the best news for her is that nothing she does here compromises it. As the only honest, likable character of the bunch, the actress handles her thankless assignment well enough to laugh later without embarrassment or regret. Madelyn Cline is saddled with an airheaded part, and while she's been better, delivers what's necessary, as does Sarah Pidgeon, whose solemn Stevie has less screen time, but a more complicated past. 

Possibly by design, none of the guys are really given a chance to register as they're picked off one-by-one. And though we're nearly an hour in before the legacy players show up, it's mostly worth the wait. Jennifer Love Hewitt's cranky, traumatized Julie isn't messing around about wanting no part of this again, Sarah Michelle Gellar's brief but creepy cameo as Fisherman victim Helen Shivers makes for an impactful moment while Freddie Prinze Jr. gives the film's best performance as a protective Ray. Successfully easing into middle-aged character roles of late, he anchors much of this, at times saving the story from going completely off the rails. 

Slightly overlong with one finish too many, this fittingly tears a page out of Scream's playbook in how it executes a couple of big reveals, the second of which bests the first. There's also a dangling thread the filmmakers probably counted on carrying over into a sequel that won't be happen. A better effort would have taken its cues from Eli Roth's substantially more fun Thanksgiving, where an instantly recognizable villain and memorable setting was used to great effect, making it feel like a new incarnation of an old school slasher. Instead, this only repeats some of the same problems as its 90's predecessor, minus years of distance and a pair of rose colored glasses skewing viewers' perception of its quality.             

Superman

Director: James Gunn
Starring: David Corenswet, Rachel Brosnahan, Nicholas Hoult, Ed Gathegi, Anthony Carrigan, Nathan Fillion, Isabela Merced, Skyler Gisondo, Wendell Pierce, Sara Sampaio, María Gabriela de Faría, Pruitt Taylor Vince, Nina Howell, Mikaela Hoover, Beck Bennett, Christopher McDonald, Bradley Cooper, Angela Sarafyan, Alan Tudyk, Michael Rooker, Pom Klementieff
Running Time: 129 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)  

In the decades following Richard Donner's Superman and its 1980 sequel, there's been this massive struggle over how to best present a new film that would again do justice to an iconic character. But from the slavish homage that was 2006's Superman Returns to Zack Snyder's broodier take on the material with his divisive Man of Steel in 2013, no one's really been able to crack the code since. 

Part of the problem stems from just how familiar we are with the origin story, putting the franchise in a precarious spot where DC's entire future hinges on studio chief and writer/director James Gunn's ability to somehow work around it. But within the first few minutes of 2025's Superman, he does just that, as a few sentences of text appear across the screen to concisely bring us up to speed. 

We're immediately off to the races with composer John Murphy's spine tingling new version of John Williams' iconic score as backdrop, giving us our most promising sign in years that someone may finally get this right. And with our hero's beaten and bloodied body prone on the ground, Gunn already sheds much of the baggage that's held this property down by simply getting right down to business. From then on, there's no looking back, which isn't to say the movie's flawless, just that it seems to grasp Superman's essence in a way other attempts haven't. 

After stopping the nation of Boravia from invading the neighboring country of Jarhanpur, Superman (David Corenswet) is left battered by an armored metahuman assassin known as the "Hammer of Boravia" before rambunctious super dog Krypto drags him back to his Fortress of Solitude to heal. But upon returning to Metropolis, Superman discovers billionaire Lex Luthor (Nicholas Hoult) has unleashed a monster kaiju on the city, getting help to fight it from"Justice Gang" heroes Green Lantern (Nathan Fillion), Mr. Terrific (Ed Gathegi) and Hawkgirl (Isabela Merced).  

As Superman's interview with Daily Planet colleague and girlfriend Lois Lane (Rachel Brosnahan) puts a temporary strain on their relationship, Luthor and his mercenaries Ultraman and The Engineer (María Gabriela de Faría) have infiltrated Superman's fortress, restoring a controversial message from his birth parents, Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van (Bradley Cooper and Angela Sarafyan) that turns the public and government against him. Demoralized and full of self-doubt, Superman will now need to rediscover his true purpose in order to thwart Luthor's master plan. 

Gunn doesn't shy away from Superman's inherent goodness, reflected in the character's ability to see the world for how it should be rather than what it is. Christopher Reeve played this trait sincerely, which is what made him the measuring stick for all who followed, including Corenswet, who possesses that similar quality when wearing the cape or bumbling around the Daily Planet offices as Clark Kent. And like Reeve, there's no adjustment period needed for us to wrap our heads around the fact he's Superman. From the first moment we see him, he just is.

With Superman still beloved by the citizens of Metropolis at the film's start, alter ego Clark Kent is in the awkward early goings of a secret relationship with Lois, who's already well aware of his true identity. While none of their Daily Planet co-workers even know they're dating or have an inkling who Clark really is, the fun facade they put on at work is enough to wish the film spent even more time there. 

You could actually quibble we don't get quite enough of Corenswet as Clark, if only because he plays the role so effectively. With his trademark glasses and  moptop of unkempt curly hair, his physical transformation is topped only by an underconfident demeanor and body language that has you believing photographer Jimmy Olsen (Skylar Gisondo) and editor-in-chief Perry White (an underutilized Wendell Pierce) wouldn't suspect a thing. 

If it's easy to immediately accept Corenswet, this applies equally to Brosnahan as the spunky, determined reporter with whom he shares a palpable chemistry that serves the film well, even when they're apart. Their flirty but occasionally contentious back-and-forth during her interview sets the stage for what follows, including the crisis of confidence Superman experiences when his biological parents' unsettling goal for him is revealed. So rattled by this, he'll eventually seek solace and answers back home in Smallville, where adoptive parents Jonathan and Martha Kent (Pruitt Taylor Vince and Neva Howell) help him rediscover his true purpose.

Once Superman surrenders and is held in Luthor's pocket universe prison, Gunn's script hits its stride at a midway point where most superhero entries drag or lose steam. Helping is Hoult's coldly consistent portrayal of Luthor as an Elon Musk-inspired meglomaniac who not only comes across as a credibly dangerous geopolitical threat, but a petty, jealous control freak whose ego can't handle the mere existence of a Superman. And those  worried the ancillary heroes would overwhelm the story or merely serve as a DCEU spin-off teaser will be pleased to know the Justice Gang's introduction couldn't go smoother. The only complaint is that Merced's Hawkgirl should have more to do, but Fillion's cocky, bowl haired Guy Gardner and Gathegi's stoic but hilarious Mr. Terrific make up for it, each leaving huge impressions.  

Gathegi's Terrific nearly steals the movie in his teaming with Lois, particularly during a brilliant fight sequence set to Noah and the Whale's "Five Years Time." But the most important supporting character is Krypto, the loyal caped canine with a knack for misbehaving at the right moments, like during Superman's fight against a formidable and strangely familiar looking Ultraman. Gisondo's Jimmy Olsen's involvement plays better than expected while Anthony Carrigan impresses as Metamorpho, a cell mate whose unusual abilities could either destroy or save Superman. 

It may be the worst kept best secret but Milly Alcock's cameo as Superman's cousin, Kara Zor-El/Supergirl is noteworthy, less for her showing up than the edgier context and presentation of this character. Think Will Smith in Hancock, or maybe more accurately the beloved comic book on which her upcoming film is based. True to form, Gunn also delivers a highly anticipated Superman/Luthor showdown that'll be remembered more for philosophy than fists. The speech and ensuing reaction is surprisingly emotional, resulting in a different kind of closure. At least until we get the inevitable rematch. 

With a plot both timely and direct, this incarnation of Superman doesn't lose sight of the idea that heroes are nothing without formidable villains and action spectacles mean more when you care about those involved. Briskly paced and judiciously edited, it's a good sign when any blockbuster comes to a close and you find yourself wanting more. By giving us what many complain superhero movies lately lack, Gunn avoids the pitfalls plaguing an iconic character and hampering a desperately needed rebirth. Now that he's gotten one, the rest of the pieces just might fall into place.                                               

Materialists

Director: Celine Song 
Starring: Dakota Johnson, Chris Evans, Pedro Pascal, Zoë Winters, Marin Ireland, Dasha Nekrasova, Louisa Jacobson, Eddie Cahill, Sawyer Spielberg, Joseph Lee, John Magaro
Running Time: 117 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

Going by its wildly misleading trailers, you might expect Celine Song's Materialists to be an unremarkable rom-com centering around a love triangle full of goofy misunderstandings and tired tropes. What we get instead is a compelling, shrewdly written romantic drama with an IQ twice the size of other offerings in the genre. And that's evident in a scene where its matchmaker protagonist lists all the reasons she's wrong for her date, spouting off the same calculations and criteria she uses with her clients. But when a similar scenario plays out later with a different guy, so much has happened in between she's no longer the same person, her entire perspective altered by a single event.

Song, whose 2023 semi-autobiographical debut Past Lives quietly landed a Best Picture nomination, hasn't exactly gone more mainstream with her follow-up, nor has she "sold out," an especially ironic assertion considering the film's themes. In fact, it's refreshingly outside the box for a commercial release featuring these stars, all of whom play real, relatable characters who can't stop themselves from making believably human mistakes. Ultimately though, it's a timely examination about connecting, told through an emotionally detached woman so skilled at her job that it affects her entire outlook on relationships.

Successful matchmaker Lucy Mason (Johnson) works at Adore, an elite company in New York City that sets clients up based on a number of specific criteria, including age, income, height and level of attractiveness. A self proclaimed "voluntary celibate," she's committed to being alone, unless a really rich guy comes along and changes her mind. But while meticulously ensuring her clients' prospective dates check all the right boxes, Lucy struggles to find a match for the recently rejected Sophie (Zoë Winters), who she's come to view as her own personal challenge.    

Frustrated by everyone's unrealistic standards for a long-term partner, Lucy attends a client's wedding and meets the groom's wealthy brother Harry Castillo (Pedro Pascal), who's immediately more interested in her than signing up for a dating service. After charming Lucy over, she reluctantly agrees to go out with him, just as her ex-boyfriend John Finch (Chris Evans), an aspiring actor, reappears, jogging up memories of their break-up years ago over money issues. But as Lucy's relationship with the seemingly perfect Harry grows more serious, an unexpected catastrophe occurs, forcing the cynical matchmaker to take a closer look at everything she thought she knew about life and love.

Methodically building her story and its main character, Song kicks this off with a 2001-inspired opening that shows a prehistoric cave couple committing to each other. But as opposed to apes, these early humans are further along in their development, discovering what they want and how that affection can be bought. So when the action seamlessly cuts to busy, bustling present day New York, we soon find out just how little has changed, forming the basis for how Lucy and others can often cripple under  societal expectations. 

Lucy's pitches to prospective clients is unusually strong, in no small part due to a blunt delivery that convinces us she makes them feel important and seen. Adopting an almost mathematical method when it comes dating, there's no denying her commitment, which sets the stage for the film's ethical dilemma. And from the moment she first appears, Johnson owns the screen with a sincerity that's business-like, but hard to fake, even when the character's lying. Because of this, the setup's whole appeal comes in us wondering what in Lucy's past led her down a path where statistics trump feelings. 

Upon meeting her match in Harry, a conflict develops between who Lucy was and what she wants to be, doing everything in her power to avoid the attraction. But as someone who's also in a profession revolving around facts and figures, he sees right through her defense mechanism, demonstrating how little she actually differs from the clients she goes to bat for on a daily basis. 

It's all about feeling valued, and while Harry definitely does that for Lucy, John's reemergence does something else entirely, and it isn't all positive, especially considering he hasn't changed at all since both were aspiring actors financially struggling to make it in their twenties. Sharing a cheap apartment with a couple of aimless roommates, he now working as a caterer and waiter as Lucy tries to convince herself she's moved on. 

Under normal circumstances, we'd have the ideal ingredients for a love triangle where the career woman is torn between her flawed ex and the rich, charming playboy. But that's all a red herring for the major incident that shakes Lucy to her core, forcing her to take serious stock. And though the film undergoes a titanic shift that nearly takes this into thriller territory, Song retains command of the controls, asking a lot of Johnson, who really comes through with a versatile turn. 

While Johnson's been grinding it out in populist projects and edgy indie fare, this feels like the best balance of both, prompting audiences to see her in a new light and get a glimpse of just how adaptable she is as an actress. And for all the flak Pascal gets for popping up in everything these days, his portrayal of the suave, direct Harry serves as an ideal reminder why, showing us exactly what he adds in the right part.

Appearing to have it all, Harry carries a secret that encapsulates the picture's materialistic slant and masks people wear. He's a decent guy, just not someone who takes his own advice, complicating a process he even admits should be easy and effortless. Evans' likable John wears his heart on his sleeve over how things with Lucy ended, but that rift is as much about his insecurity as her judgmentalism. It's only when they're given an opportunity to meet in the middle about their problems that a chance comes to finally settle them.  

After getting the impression Lucy's smart and talented enough to do anything, it isn't long before we're asking why she's doing this. And soon enough she's exploring the same question herself in a prescient film that says a lot, but gets its biggest boost from Johnson, who delivers her most nuanced work to date. Far from predictable in either tone or execution, she's the anchor for a thought provoking look at compatibility that goes layers deeper than you'd expect from its plot description.             

The Phoenician Scheme

Director: Wes Anderson
Starring: Benecio del Toro, Mia Threapleton, Michael Cera, Riz Ahmed, Tom Hanks, Bryan Cranston, Mathieu Amalric, Richard Ayoade, Jeffrey Wright, Scarlett Johansson, Benedict Cumberbatch, Rupert Friend, Hope Davis, Bill Murray, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Willem Dafoe, F. Murray Abraham, Stephen Park
Running Time: 101 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)       

For anyone wondering how a Wes Anderson directed international espionage picture would play out, an answer comes with The Phoenician Scheme, which looks and feels a lot like previous Anderson efforts. But that's only bad news if you happen to detest his dry humor, twee tone, penchant for recycling the same actors in different roles, or even that unmistakable Futura font. And while it all converges into a distinctive style sometimes known as the "Anderson aesthetic," it has just as many fans as detractors, many of whom eagerly await each new release. 

When cinephiles rank Anderson's' divisive output there's largely agreement on what they've seen, often causing them to love and hate chosen titles for exactly the same reasons.  But after the visual and narrative spectacle of Asteroid City hinted at more complex themes bubbling just under the surface of its meta structure, this satire reprsents the latest signpost for his brand of mannered quirkiness. And though it can't help but feel like a slight step back in comparison, there's no denying it still showcases what he does best. 

It's 1950 and eccentric arms dealer/industrialist Anatole "Zsa-Zsa" Korda (Benicio del Toro) is busy trying to evade multiple assassination attempts until a horrific plane crash nearly does him in. Fearing time may be running out, he attempts to reconnect with his only daughter, Liesel (Mia Threapleton), a Catholic nun repulsed by her father's behavior and suspicious he murdered her mom. Still, he persuades her to leave the Church to help run his business on a trial basis, also hiring Norwegian entomologist and family tutor Bjørn (Michael Cera) as administrative assistant.

Risking his wealth on a scheme to overhaul Phoenicia's infrastructure with slave labor, Korda plots to thwart the government's plans to bankrupt him by duping investors into covering the budget shortfall. Joined by Liesel and Bjørn, he starts with Californians Leland (Tom Hanks) and Reagan (Bryan Cranston) before moving on to French nightclub owner Marseille Bob (Mathieu Amalric), Newark investor Marty (Jeffrey Wright), and even his own cousin, Hilda (Scarlett Johansson), an heiress to the family fortune. Infuriating them with his lies, Korda refuses to enlist the help of estranged half-brother Nubar (Benedict Cumberbatch) due to their troubled history. But as Liesel spends more time with her dad, she reluctantly holds out hope that he's capable of change.

Somehow both convoluted and mind numbingly simple, the plot's almost beside the point, serving as an excuse for its characters to engage in the absurd, but highly entertaining hijinx put in motion by Korda's embarrassing scheme. Much of why involves the road trip element, which gives Anderson's troupe of regulars a chance to shine in wildly different roles. But none of that would be possible without del Toro's brilliantly bonkers performance as Korda, a clear amalgamation of narcissistic industrialists like William Randolph Hearst and Aristotle Onassis. 

Anderson employs a treasure trove of cultural, historical and cinematic references to fill out this story centering around his main character's eccentric peculiarities, such as adopting as many kids as possible and organizing his business files into separate shoeboxes. Del Toro has to walk a thin line line here, playing a selfish swindler, deadbeat dad and charmingly likable rogue all wrapped into one, showing just enough humanity for us to understand why Leisel bothers sticking around.

Amid a flood of famous faces, it's a revelatory Threapleton who makes the strongest impression as Liesel, whose faith is tested when confronted with the prospect of not only forgiving her emotionally inaccessible dad, but somehow forging an actual relationship with him. And it's when her character experiences Korda's moral failings up close that Threapleton's sarcastic wit and bemused facial expressions supply the film its heart. And opposite both in his largest Anderson role to date, an ideally cast Cera plays the awkward, bumbling Bjørn to perfection, just as we'd expect.  

While Hanks and Cranston's appearances do feel more like celebrity cameos than fleshed out parts, they're still sort of a hoot as brothers, with Wright and Johansson managing to give the looniest, most worthwhile turns of the investors. Others like Bill Murray, Willem Dafoe, Hope Davis and F. Murray Abraham only pop in and out. It's really the uncomfortable camaraderie between Korda and his two travel companions that carry this, leading right into the eventual sibling showdown with Cumberbatch's scary, bushy eyebrowed Nubar. The result is a surprisingly sentimental finale that prioritizes substance over style. 

Anchored by a charismatically flawed character in the vein of odd, ornery Anderson protagonists like Royal Tenenbaum and Steve Zisssou, it's hard not to wish this was at least slightly better, or even a little less messy. But with a trio of tremendous lead performances, a clever structure and stretches of hilarity, there's a lot to appreciate. Those rooting for Anderson to completely step outside the box may have to wait a little longer, but in giving us more of the same he continues to prove that few do it better.                        

Final Destination Bloodlines

Directors: Zach Lipovsky and Adam Stein
Starring: Kaitlyn Santa Juana, Teo Briones, Richard Harmon, Owen Patrick Joyner, Rya Kihlstedt, Anna Lore, Gabrielle Rose, Brec Bassinger, Tony Todd, Jayden Oniah, Tinpo Lee, April Telek, Alex Zahara, Max Lloyd-Jones, Brenna Llewellyn
Running Time: 110 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)     

The Final Destination franchise has always been somewhat underappreciated, especially considering how its premise of death taking who it wants when it wants contains more than just a kernel of truth. Characters who can't shake that sinking feeling of quiet dread may decline to take that last minute flight or pause before getting in the car to drive to work. And yet their fates are still sealed when they learn the hard way that the grim reaper doesn't take kindly to being messed with. 

It's an idea the supernatural horror series has exploited to mixed effect, as a number of gruesomely elaborate sequences show many failing in their attempts to avoid the inevitable. But in Final Destination Bloodlines, a thrilling opening lays the groundwork for co-directors Zach Lipovsky and Adam Stein to reinvigorate this moribund property with a wild ride that prioritizes story over gore. We still get our fair share of over-the-top death scenes, only with higher stakes as its insanity serves a larger purpose. 

College student Stefani Reyes (Kaitlyn Santa Juana) is haunted by reoccurring nightmares of her grandparents, Iris (Brec Bassinger) and Paul Campbell (Max Lloyd-Jones) dying in the 1969 collapse of the Skyview tower restaurant in her hometown. Heading back to New York to see her father Marty (Tinpo Lee) and younger brother Charlie (Teo Briones), she searches for answers after discovering the tower never actually collapsed. Though her dad is unwilling to dredge up the past, she grills Uncle Howard (Alex Zahara), who begrudgingly shares that Iris subjected him and Stefani's mother Darlene (Rya Kihlstedt) to a childhood of extreme isolation in the years following the Skyview's closing. 

After meeting an ailing Iris (Gabrielle Rose) at her secluded, reinforced cabin, Stefani realizes she somehow inherited her grandmother's Skyview premonition that saved hundreds of lives. Or at least until death spent the ensuing decades picking off the survivors and their offspring, who were never meant to exist. Now coming to finish the job, death's targeting Iris's entire bloodline, which not only includes Stefani and Charlie, but Darlene, Uncle Howard and his kids, Erik (Richard Harmon), Bobby (Owen Patrick Joyner) and Julia (Anna Lore). Armed with Iris's survival handbook, time's running out for Stefani, who has to convince her skeptical family that they're next.  

The film's sensationally staged opening shows what happens when the impending sense of doom that's defined this franchise is put in the right directors' hands, firing on all cylinders. From the moment the credits roll, we're bombarded by a series of close calls and "almosts" that visually manipulate the audience in order to generate maximum suspense. And the opening of this Space Needle-like tower provides countless opportunities for that with its creaky elevators, extreme heights, irresponsible patrons, structural flaws and sizzling cuisine. But as is usually the case, the catalyst for chaos is what you least suspect.

Carried by capable performances from Bassinger and Jones as the young couple, we wait for the other shoe to drop, feeling every bit of Iris's anxiety as catastrophe approaches. It's only after an onslaught of nerve-wracking fake-outs that the skyscraper transforms into a towering inferno full of guests meeting their grisly demises. Cleverly though, screenwriters Guy Busick and Lori Evans Taylor use what could have easily been the script's high water mark as a launching pad for the idea this fatal premonition is passed on through the generations. And with death climbing down the family tree one branch at a time, it lands on Stefani, who's plagued by Iris's vision of the averted disaster.  

There are more twists where that came from, most of which involve Stefani's efforts to stay a step ahead, cracking the code in an attempt to assign an order to the victims. An immensely likable Santa Juana capably carries the load as this heroine struggling to regain the trust of a family who believes she's been as emotionally absent as her estranged mom. On the verge of failing out of school, she needs these nightmares to stop, even if that means playing a dangerous cat-and-mouse game with death. 

Richard Harmon delivers a great supporting turn as the heavily pierced and tattooed Erik, eerily channeling the kind of crazy jerk Matthew Lillard would have played in a 90's. Put through fate's wringer, he'll gradually show that familial loyalty comes first, while the late, great Tony Todd makes his final appearance in the series as creepy coroner William Bludworth. With a backstory crucial to the main plot, his role proves to be a moving send-off for both the character and horror icon portraying him.      

If uncontrollable havoc is par for the course in this series, Bloodlines raises the bar with some immensely satisfying set pieces. One centers around a family barbecue where unattended drinks, hoses, trampolines and runaway lawnmowers transform into instruments of mass destruction. But it's a jaw-dropping incident involving an MRI machine that rightly earns its designation as the franchise's most memorable death sequence. 

Despite us having a strong idea who might be left standing at the end, the film's final minutes are surprisingly gutsy in hammering home its dark central conceit. While the reaper occupies every corner of this universe, previous installments sometimes struggled to cohesively present the notion as more than just a collection of creative kills. Breezily paced and edited, this sequel exceeds those expectations with an experience that keeps audiences guessing through each outrageous development.                               

Happy Gilmore 2

Director: Kyle Newacheck
Starring: Adam Sandler, Julie Bowen, Christopher McDonald, Benny Safdie, Bad Bunny, John Daly, Ben Stiller, Jackie Sandler, Sadie Sandler, Sunny Sandler, Maxwell Jacob Friedman, Ethan Cutkosky, Philip Fine Schneider, Conor Sherry, Dennis Dugan, Kevin Nealon, Haley Joel Osment, Lavell Crawford, Bryson DeChambeau, Brooks Koepka, Rory Mcllroy, Scottie Scheffler, Will Zalatoris, Eminem, Steve Buscemi, Eric André, Martin Herlihy, Margaret Qualley, Travis Kelce
Running Time: 118 min.
Rating: PG-13

**The Following Review Contains Plot Spoilers** 

★★ (out of ★★★★)  

Netflix's heavily anticipated Happy Gilmore 2 answers the question of whether it's really possible for a comedy classic to go home again, responding with a mixed bag full of more misses than hits. But the real concern was whether it would feel like a reunion and little else, made with the presumption fans would simply rejoice at the whole gang returning after thirty years. 

Now after actually seeing what Adam Sandler director Kyle Newacheck cooked up, we're again reminded of the original's greatness, though not for the reasons they likely intended. Their biggest challenge is following a film that was never about positive vibes or giving us a likable protagonist. It was mean, nasty and hilarious, each scene dripping with the attitude that audiences who rejected it could trouble themselves to a warm glass of shut the hell up. 

While the original aligned perfectly with Happy's rebellious, anti-establishment spirit, this sequel represents something else. Given how decades have passed and characters age and evolve with its fan base, there's clearly a conscious attempt to pull on the heartstrings by taking a sentimentally inoffensive trip down nostalgia lane. But no matter how you frame it, that's just not who Happy Gilmore is. And this results in a middling effort more interested in paying tribute to the original's popularity than staying true to the character's arc.  

Having won multiple tour championships in the 90's, golfer Happy Gilmore (Sandler) went on to have five kids with wife Virginia Venit (Julie Bowen) before retiring from the sport when personal tragedy struck. After losing all his money in a lawsuit, depressed alcoholic Happy now works at a supermarket while his four sons Gordie (Maxwell Jacob Friedman), Wayne (Ethan Cutkosky), Bobby (Philip Fine Schneider), and Terry (Conor Sherry) support him and their sister Vienna (Sunny Sandler), a gifted dancer aspiring to enroll in a Paris ballet school. But after rejecting an offer to join energy drink CEO Frank Manatee's (Benny Safdie) new Maxi Golf league, Happy gets the itch to make a tour comeback in hopes of earning enough to fund his daughter's dream. 

As old friends help motivate Happy to pick up the clubs and improve his game, he's attending a court ordered alcoholic treatment program led by his late grandma's abusive nursing home orderly Hal L. (Ben Stiller). He also contends with returning arch nemesis Shooter McGavin (Christopher McDonald), who's unexpectedly been released from the psychiatric hospital he was committed to after his 1996 Tour Championship loss to Gilmore. But with the non-traditional Maxi Golf threatening the sport's sanctity, Happy will have to defeat Frank's squad and redeem himself in the eyes of his family.

Though we find out about Virginia's death via flashback within the first few minutes, the circumstances surrounding it indicate this film's tone will wildly differ from its predecessor's, at least to start. And while it's a bold choice having Happy accidentally kill his wife with a golf drive, it does provide a justifiable, if overly extreme, explanation for his personal troubles. Uncomfortably teetering between dark humor and tragedy, it's almost as if the writers thought that Happy losing Virginia wasn't enough unless he was solely responsible. 

If much of the first hour finds Happy in dire straits, there is a clever visual gag involving his hiding of alcohol in various household receptacles and funny antics from Steve Buscemi and former golf pro John Daly, who plays "Uncle John," a fictionalized version of himself living in Happy's garage. And despite a failed attempt to convince us Happy having five kids is somehow hilarious, the overall plot of him reigniting his career to help his daughter does make for a solid launching point. 

For all the flak Sandler gets for casting friends and family, both Sunny and Sadie's performances (the latter as a member of Happy's support group) are effective. It's really a reminder that no one would care who Sandler put in his projects they just delivered. Unfortunately, his recent output has been underwhelming enough for complaints like these to keep flaring up.  

After an overlong sequence involving Happy's unsuccessful return to the green alongside a trio of recreational golfers (played by Eric André, Martin Herlihy and Margaret Qualley), the movie sort of turns a corner. Much of that has to do with the great Christopher McDonald's work as Shooter and some spirited appearances from PGA pros Scottie Scheffler, Bryson DeChambeau, Brooks Koepka and Rory Mcllory. Of those, Scheffler fares the best in a meta sub-plot parodying his recent arrest.

This wouldn't be a sequel without Happy again coming face-to-face with Shooter, but the real enemies are Safdi's obnoxious, scene stealing Maxi golf founder Frank and Stiller's Hal, whose brief, uncredited role in the original stole that movie. While his presence here as Happy's treatment counselor is noticeably expanded, the novelty of a seemingly accommodating character revealing himself as an unhinged lunatic is gone.With his mask already off, we're left with this weird guy who's just a run-of-the-mill jerk. 

Ironically enough, Travis Kelce actually comes closer to capturing Hal's phony, disingenuous attitude as a restaurant boss who fires waiter (and Happy's future caddy) Oscar (Bad Bunny). Both of them are highlights, proving how this fares better when incorporating newer faces rather than leaning entirely on callbacks. After a while, so many relatives of deceased characters start showing up that it almost plays like The Naked Gun reboot trailer if it wasn't in on the joke. Newacheck also has an annoying propensity for awkwardly inserting clips from the original, which seems equally pointless for hardcore fans and the uninitiated.                   

Sandler is Sandler in this, but has his moments, even if at times he's going through the motions and the Happy we're watching seems entirely different from the protagonist we remember. But that's probably the point. Aligning him on the side of tradition against this upstart league is a decent idea, but it's mainly to send up the ridiculousness of "extreme" sports and spoof LIV Golf with an insane finale featuring celebrities like Eminem, Guy Fieri, Stephen A. Smith, Post Malone, Becky Lynch and countless others. There must be close to a hundred cameos in this and it's overkill, making you appreciate Bob Barker's iconic appearance in the original that much more.    

We also see the return of those "Happy Place" dream sequences, but with an updated twist that's almost as humorous as anything involving McDonald's Shooter and Haley Joel Osment's tour prodigy turned rival. But perhaps realizing nothing Shooter does could possibly top his bombastic villainy in the previous film, they forego repeating that, opting to take the character in another direction, at least until he vanishes in the second half.

There's a temptation to cut Happy Gilmore 2 some slack since we get what was generally expected under the circumstances. But while many have rightly ranked this at the higher end of Sandler's Netflix titles, a legacy sequel to his all-time best comedy should probably be held to higher standards. Whether this comes down to Sandler waiting too long or just a general lack of quality control, the finished product feels like a misguided attempt at paying homage to the original while abandoning the edgy humor that defined it. That's not to say it isn't still good for some laughs, but they're fewer, even for those approaching this with lowered expectations.