Supergirl

Director: Craig Gillespie
Starring: Milly Alcock, Matthias Schoenaerts, Eve Ridley, David Krumholtz, Emily Beecham, David Corenswet, Jason Momoa, Ferdinand Kingley, Diarmaid Murtagh, Clara Rosager, Heather Agyepong, Alice Hewkin, Paul Hunter
Running Time: 108 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)   

If Craig Gillespie's Supergirl seemed like it never stood a chance, it wasn't due to quality, but the realization everyone had already made up their minds. And even if a standalone film centered around this character was always considered a tough sell for DC, the hostility still stung. Whether it was complaints about casting, its script or nearly any other aspect of a picture no one yet laid eyes on, financial failure gradually became inevitable. So despite the enthusiastic reception Supergirl's cameo got at the end of 2025's Superman, skeptics' knives were sharpened a while ago  

It's never a good sign when your interest in a project rests on finding out whether it really is as bad as everyone says. And considering all the venom spewed in its direction, you can't help but think it must be. But that's the thing with Supergirl. There are no "correct" versions of her, just varying incarnations of a character that needs constant reinvention to stay relevant. This is the latest, and though she's a mess, the movie isn't, as writer Ana Nogueira sets her on a journey to move past the pain and find some version of "home." Clocking in at just under two hours, it has a clear mission and equally strong execution, making for a fun, breezy watch that's superior to lot of the underwhelming superhero fare it's accused of resembling.   

Growing up on Argo City, Kara-El (Alcock) was raised by scientist father Zor-El (David Krumholtz) and mother Alura In-Ze (Emily Beecham) after they fled their destroyed planet of Krypton. But when the citizens of Argo suddenly start dying from the effects of Kryptonite, Zor-El sends Kara and her dog Krypto on a ship to Earth, where they're taken in by her cousin Kal-El/Superman (David Corenswet). Now on the eve of her 23rd birthday, Kara spends most of her time planet hopping and getting drunk, much to Superman's concern. 

Partying on the planet Holzherr, Kara encounters young Ruthye Marye Knoll (Eve Ridley), who seeks vengeance on the Krem of the Yellow Hills (Matthias Schoenaerts) for brutally murdering her family. Initially, Kara dismisses Ruthye's pleas for help, at least until Krem shoots Krypto with a poisoned dart. Desperate to locate Krem and the antidote to save Krypto, Kara reluctantly takes Ruthye along as they face numerous obstacles, like a cocky bounty hunter named Lobo (Jason Momoa) who has a score of his own to settle with the Brigands. But as Krypto's life hangs in the balance, Kara and Ruthye must somehow move beyond their traumatic pasts to help each other. 

Rather than digging into Kara's origin story right away, it's inserted into the film's middle section, allowing for a more memorable, attention grabbing introduction. And given her bratty, wisecracking attitude, the rebellious Supergirl does immediately leave a lasting first impression. That the script's adapted from Tom King and Bilquis Evely's beloved comic book series, Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow sets the bar high, but producer James Gunn picked the right actress in Alcock, who successfully captures an unconventional version of the character most haven't been exposed to. 

Apathetic and perpetually hung over, Kara wears a brown duster, sunglasses and a Blondie tee in place of that iconic suit for most of the running time. But it works, largely because it's a welcome departure that temporarily frees us from your usual superhero tropes. Just as Melissa Benoist wouldn't copy what Helen Slater did or Sasha Calle didn't pattern her performance after Benoist's, no Supergirl can fill the other's shoes. It's apples to oranges when we debate our favorites, each of whom personified a version of the role that suited their story's specific vision. So in this sense, Alcock fits right in, carrying on the tradition of being different from whoever came before.

Alcock does have a tight rope to walk in depicting a Kara who appears to be the polar opposite of her altruistic cousin, but still likeable enough to really root for. And her explanation that Superman sees the best in everyone when she sees "the truth," is a great line made better by the actress's dry, matter-of-fact delivery. But if Kara's recklessness and pessimism seems understandable once we recognize it as survivor's guilt, an even angrier Ruthye is hellbent on revenge, despite the further emotional scarring it'll bring. Of course, Kara's recognition of that and the begrudging willingness to take this girl under her wing suggests a bit more of Clark in her than she's willing to admit.

Cinematographer Rob Hardy's grungy, brownish, hue has drawn considerable comparisons to Mad Max, but Gillespie's entire approach is more reminiscent of Star Wars, as there's definitely a Mos Eisley cantina vibe to the bar scenes and a thrilling mid-air sequence featuring a plethora of alien species. As for all the complaints about its effects, they're surprisingly strong, even as the digitized Krypto has you wondering if they'd be better off casting a real dog. Doing that comes with its own set of challenges, but considering he spends most of this film asleep on a gurney, now was probably the time to do it. There's just something to be said for a pet owner's connection to their dog that can't be replicated with CGI stand-in.   

Alcock and Ridley share natural big sis/little sis chemistry throughout, but when Kara's incapacitated, the latter actress proves herself capable of carrying the load alone with spunk and vigor. It also doesn't hurt that Schoenaerts' Krem makes for a formidably menacing villain who gets just the right amount of screen time to make an impact. And while many already believed the charismatic Momoa was born to play Lobo, his turn as the vicious but cool anti-hero supports that theory, stealing every scene he's a part of. Corenswet's effectively used as the Man of Steel, mostly because Gillespie doesn't get bogged down by it, wisely incorporating him in key spots to emphasize Kara's past and present. 

Kara slipping into the suit for the action packed final act carries weight because it feels earned by a simple story told well, which in this frequently overcomplicated genre, shouldn't be dismissed. Lacking unnecessary sub-plots, distracting DCU crossovers or anything else that shifts the focus, it's briskly paced and efficiently constructed, creatively eclipsing this summer's The Mandalorian and Grogu and The Masters of the Universe. Unfortunately, Supergirl had people rooting against it in ways those other two didn't. Maybe now with more time and distance, this gets another look, and a renewed appreciation for all it gets right.                                                                                   

Backrooms

Director: Kane Parsons
Starring: Chiwetel Ejiofor, Renate Reinsve, Mark Duplass, Finn Bennett, Lukita Maxwell, Avan Jogia, Robert Bobroczkyi, Krista Kosonen
Running Time: 110 min.
Rating: R

**This Review Contains Plot Spoilers**

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

Certain expectations will accompany a film with a premise as far out there as Kane Parsons' creepy and mesmerizing Backrooms. So much so that even fans of the web series on which it's based doubted how such a sparse, high concept idea would play as a feature. But with a staggering directorial debut, Parsons proves them wrong, transporting us into a seemingly endless hell of liminal spaces and quietly foreboding dread. It's a hypnotizing world where stacked furniture, barren corridors and humming florescent lights appear to be the biggest threat, until we realize the gravest danger facing anyone who enters are themselves. 

It's a place that misremembers details in shockingly disturbing ways, creating an endless loop where the search for answers only results in more questions and frustration for those willing to take the risk. Since coming and going is fairly simple, Will Soodik's puzzle box script really revolves around why its protagonist feels so compelled to stay, aside from his adventurous curiosity. But as each corner beckons the latest human guinea pig to go further, it absorbs every piece of their lives in the process, drawing visual and thematic comparisons to Cube, The Shining, Twin Peaks, Vivarium, Severance and even The Blair Witch Project. And yet there still isn't anything quite like it. 

It's 1990 in Santa Clara, California and financially struggling former architect Clark (Chiwetel Ejiofor) owns and manages Clark's Ottoman Empire, a furniture store with a peg-legged pirate as its mascot. Battling alcoholism and struggling to cope with his wife leaving him, therapist Dr. Mary Kline (Renate Reinsve), grows exasperated by Clark's refusal to take responsibility for any of it. And as he continues to blame everyone but himself, she engages him in role playing exercises that frustratingly confirm his chronic complacency. 

Rather than attempt to change, Clark doubles down, obsessing over an invisible portal in the furniture store's basement showroom that leads to an eerily threatening maze of dimly lit hallways and unoccupied office spaces. He also convinces reluctant employee Kat (Lukita Maxwell) and her stoner boyfriend Bobby (Finn Bennett) to join him in documenting this on video to show Mary he isn't crazy. But the deeper they go, it's clear this hidden space poses a far greater threat than anyone anticipated, including Mary, who searches for him just as the dimension's terrifying truths start to surface. Though for Clark, it may already be too late. 

The first thing we see isn't Clark, but a prologue featuring a hazmat suited researcher with a camcorder filming the backrooms, frantically searching for a way out after being separated from the rest of his group. A lesser story would have employed a first person shaky cam perspective for the film's entire duration and probably focused solely on efforts to retrieve him. But this isn't your ordinary horror. Overwhelmed by the endless continuation of long corridors, the man runs from an unseen entity, failing to reestablish communication as we're shown a pair of scientists later studying this recovered footage. It's the ultimate tease, setting the stage for what Clark and Mary will ultimately experience.

Many of Clark's problems stem from his own denial as he dodges accountability at every turn. Mary sees through him right away, indulging his worst impulses with the hope he'll eventually have a breakthrough. Instead, he seems more comfortable listening to himself complain about his ex-wife. And if the biggest surprise about Clark's therapy sessions is him agreeing to go at all, Ejiofor's performance invests you in a flawed character whose fleeting moments of clarity conceal his resentful bitterness. 

It's also hard not to share in Clark's excitement when he walks through that wall, dumbfounded by what he finds on the other side. Parsons lets us follow him into these rooms with the same sense of urgency as he that ill fated researcher did before things went south. None of this is about leaving, but what's left behind, as Ejiofor lets Clark's nervous silence do all the talking while he finds the way out, desperate to share what he's uncovered. 

That Clark's so willing to tell this to a therapist who could have him committed speaks to how desperate he is. But it's only when a concerned, incredulous Mary reacts as anyone would that he goes off the deep end, selfishly dragging Kat and Bobby along for the ride. Aside from some excellent sound design, Parsons creatively employs found footage by confining it to the section where it's most needed. And though Clark doesn't have a clue just how dangerous it is in there, after a while, we start to wonder whether he even cares. 

As an architect and personality, few are more likely to appreciate this space than Clark, who's finally found a home for the self satisfied smugness that defines his life. He is, after all, just "wired differently." Except the biggest problem with this new home isn't getting lost, attacked by furniture or even dying of starvation or thirst. It's something more sinister and possibly supernatural, despite Parsons' ability to keep one toe firmly rooted in reality. Mary's overtaken by the urge to find her patient not because she believes him, but out of a concern he's become a harm to himself or others. And she's not far off.   

Some of the film's more underappreciated scenes involve flashbacks to Mary's tumultuous childhood under the care of her agoraphobic mother. And when we first meet the therapist, she's watching the house she grew up in get demolished, along with all the complicated memories that accompany it. Understandably gravitating toward a psychology career, she's tucked away painful parts of her past she'd rather not confront. Unfortunately, the backrooms will unlock it by trapping her in a prison similar to the one she grew up in, shut off from the real world.

Reinsve provides a lot while saying very little, as an empathetic Mary displays more patience with Clark than most could, plowing past his obnoxious facade and explosive temper to help. But as the story wears on, you slowly see her therapy mask slip and a fighter emerge when Clark's "connection" to this environment grows stranger. And in keeping with Parsons' brilliant melding of practical and digital effects, a terrifying figure emerges, culminating in a spectacular, vertigo inducing shot of Mary looking down at this phenomenal space in all its overwhelming expanse. 

At one point, Clark equates his discovery as describing a dog to someone for the first time and asking them to draw it. And while that feels oddly accurate, it's also a lot more. By the time its conclusion arrives, we understand why Mark Duplass' mysterious researcher seems so permanently awestruck. By making us believe he's only scratched the surface of this bizarre universe, Parsons goes all the way down the rabbit hole with a final scene that's the stuff of nightmares. It'll provides answers, if only just enough to help viewers interpret the rest for themselves.                                                            

Masters of the Universe

Director: Travis Knight
Starring: Nicholas Galitzine, Camila Mendes, Idris Elba, Jared Leto, Alison Brie, James Purefoy, Charlotte Riley, Morena Baccarin, Jóhannes Haukur Jóhannesson, Jon Xue Zhang, Sam C. Wilson, Sasheer Zamata, Christian Vunipola, Christiaan Bettridge, James Wilkinson, Kojo Attah, James Apps, Stephen Adentan, Kristen Wiig, Gary Martin, Tom Wilton, Artie Wilkinson-Hunt, Eire Farrell
Running Time: 140 min.
Rating: PG-13

**This Review Contains Plot Spoilers**

★★½ (out of ★★★★)     

The biggest challenge in making a new Masters of the Universe movie was always going to be finding the right tone. Either you fully commit to capturing the sense of silly fun that defined the 80's toy line and cartoon series or more seriously embrace the mystical fantasy elements as if it were a continuation of The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Obviously, there are significant drawbacks to either approach, with each potentially alienating different segments of the audience. It also helps explain why we haven't seen any live-action attempts at tackling this material since 1987's poorly received cult flop starring Dolph Lundgren and Frank Langella. 

Unlike Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or G.I. Joe, Mattel's slightly older MOTU franchise only peaked for a few years in the early to mid 80's, and aside from Kevin Smith's recent Netflix Revelation series, hasn't reinvented itself since. So for those wondering who this updated He-Man movie is "supposed to be for," few candidates seem better suited to tackle it than Bumblebee director Travis Knight, who briefly resuscitated one ailing retro franchise when Transformers was down for the count. But in paying tribute to the original Filmation series and introducing this world to a new, younger generation of fans, Knight does something few could have guessed. He tries a little too hard, resulting in a film that's almost too clever and subversive for its own good, but still sort of fun.  

On the planet Eternia, a young Prince Adam is being trained for battle alongside his friend Teela's adoptive father and the king's Man-At-Arms, Duncan (Idris Elba). Weak and undersized, he progresses slowly as his parents King Randor (James Purefoy) and Queen Marlena (Charlotte Riley) worry about the future prospects of a son who can't even defend himself, much less their people. But when the evil, skull faced Skeletor (Jared Leto) attacks their city with right-hand woman Evil-Lyn (Alison Brie) by his side, Adam's parents are taken while Duncan's brutally injured by mercenary cyborg Trapjaw (Sam C. Wilson). Hoping to protect the young boy, Eternia's Sorceress (Morena Baccarin) sends Adam through a portal to Earth, entrusting him with the coveted Sword of Power, which he loses during his trip.

Fifteen years later, an adult Adam (Nicholas Galitzine) is living in Oklahoma with friend and roommate Hussein (Christian Vunipola). Now working in human resources, he clings to childhood memories of Eternia. having drawn sketches and come up with descriptively cartoonish nicknames for those he once knew, such as Fisto (Jóhannes Haukur Jóhannesson), Ram-Man (Jon Xue Zhang), Mekaneck (James Wilkinson) and Moss Man (Stephen Adentan). 

Though returning home is impossible without the sword, Adam receives a tip on its possible whereabouts, bringing him face-to-face with Skeletor's vicious Beast Man (Gary Martin). Rescued by Teela (Camila Mendes), Adam is taken back to an unrecognizably decaying Eternia decimated by Skeletor's rule. Now with the help of Teela, Duncan and the rest of the crew, he'll need to summon the power of Grayskull to vanquish Skeletor for good. 

Seeing that classic MGM lion logo replaced by the green, roaring Battle Cat makes it difficult for He-Man fans to not feel an optimistic rush when the opening chords of Brian May and Daniel Pemberton's chill inducing throwback theme, "Eternia" hits. To say it's all downhill from there is an overstatement, but it definitely qualifies as a mixed bag of hits and misses. 

Despite atrocious visual effects and CG backdrops that remain a distraction throughout, the film starts on a relatively promising note with Adam's origin story baring more than a passing resemblance to Superman's. After being sent to Earth for protection, the script jumps ahead, allowing us to speculate how "Adam Glenn" acclimated himself as a parentless child. Instead, we get what amounts to an Office Space parody, where as an adult he's going through the motions of an HR job and drawing the ire of his condescending boss Suzie (Sasheer Zamata). 

Adam's office scenes are the film's weakest link, if only because the four credited writers keep  hammering the gag into the ground. These references even carry over into Adam's later return to Eternia and eventual transformation into He-Man, becoming the centerpiece of a plot that already seems desperate for laughs. But while more time is spent exploring Adam's "normal" existence on Earth than fans will prefer, it at least culminates in a thrilling highway action sequence that re-introduces a now adult Teela.

You'd think the joking would gradually subside when Adam starts to recognize the responsibility put before him, and though his physical metamorphosis into He-Man is a highlight, there isn't much of a change beyond the costume. And with no firm line differentiating the personas, Adam's whiny goofiness persists, leaving Galitzine to play this as a farce. Teela's exasperated reactions to his persisting insecurity reflect that, with the warrior goddess frequently rolling her eyes in disbelief, remaining reluctantly hopeful he'll maybe rise to the occasion. So are we.  

A fantastic Camila Mendes doesn't misstep once in consistently portraying Teela as a formidable bad ass who might care a little more for her childhood friend than she's willing to admit. Or maybe not, considering all the babysitting she has to do for him during their adventure. This also extends to her dad, Duncan, who's now a disheveled alcoholic seemingly stricken with PTSD in the years following Trap Jaw's attack. 

With a wisecracking Roboto (voiced by Kristen Wiig) by his side, the former Man-At-Arms aims to dust off the uniform and return to fighting form. And while it happens rather abruptly, Idris brings vulnerability and gravitas to Duncan, as he and Mendes successfully convey the challenges of repairing their broken father-daughter bond. For a short while, he even rubs off positively on his former pupil, helping Adam find some inner strength, at least until his quirkiness takes center stage again during the story's most crucial juncture. 

Adam's nicknaming of Eternia characters is another joke that probably looked great on paper but doesn't play nearly as well on screen. One minute Fisto and Ram-Man are deeply offended by their monikers, only to later do an about face and embrace it during a cringeworthy pep talk from Adam that has us questioning how he really felt about his HR job. For someone who supposedly despised it, he sure loves talking about all the motivational lessons it instilled, causing him to come across as a slightly more sincere version of his nightmare boss, complete with the same politically correct corporate speak. 

As Skeletor, Jared Leto again proves (as he did in Tron: Ares), that the frequent complaints about his casting have little to do with his on screen performance. In fact, no one would have a clue it's Leto behind that digitized skull face and blue muscled body suit had his name not been advertised. But since it was, there's an uproar, discounting the reality that his interpretation of this iconic villain ranks alongside Mendes' work as one of the film's very best aspects. 

Replacing the cartoon version's nasally inflection with a Shakespearean British accent, Leto strikes just the right balance of frightening menace and comedy, like a Skeletor meme brought to life. And how the VFX team can so compellingly capture this character's look but fail hard in their depiction of a mostly absent Cringer/Battle Cat (voiced by Tom Wilton) is a mystery. But the reframing of Evil-Lyn as an abused, submissive underling who's a step away from turning on Skeletor is inspired, if underdeveloped, depriving us of more Alison Brie, who's great in this.

Possessing the sword and seemingly ready to take out Skeletor, complications and even a couple of deaths arise for He-Man as the movie drags its feet before arriving at the final showdown. And while the writers still can't resist turning this battle into a stand-up routine that calls back to Adam's experience in "conflict resolution," there's a saving grace. It comes in the form of a mind meld sequence where Skeletor hilariously inserts himself into Adam's memories and Knight finally nails that tone he seemed to be searching for throughout.  

Extremely difficult to adapt, this is about as entertaining as it gets for a flawed movie based on a nostalgic toy franchise. Still, it's tempting to wonder what the results could have been with writers less interested in telling everyone how embarrassed they are by the original property. It's as if they seem desperate to make fun of the material before anyone else can, proving they're in on the joke. Some of that humor works, but the constant need to infuse every scene with it starts to takes its toll, especially when the stakes are highest. 

In laying the groundwork for a sequel, post-credit teases involving Orko and She-Ra will now be remembered as mere footnotes, which is a shame considering how all the pieces were already there. Even when a story's ridiculous, audiences shouldn't be constantly reminded of that when they only want to escape, as has been proven with movies ten times more preposterous than this. But whether longtime fans feel betrayed or newer viewers roll their eyes at these characters, it does get a lot right. The music's incredible, certain performances hit in all the ways they should and the plot structure holds up. It's just everything else in between that ends up falling short.           

The Mandalorian and Grogu

Director: Jon Favreau
Starring: Pedro Pascal, Jeremy Allen White, Jonny Coyne, Martin Scorsese, Sigourney Weaver, Brendan Wayne, Lateef Crowder
Running Time: 132 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

Whatever problems exist with director Jon Favreau's The Mandalorian and Grogu actually have little to do with the film itself, which marks an admirable big screen outing for the once popular Disney+ series. The real issue is that it comes about five or six years too late, long after the show's popularity peaked and briefly gave Star Wars fans hope their franchise may have turned a corner. And with pop culture moving faster by the day, it's easy to forget just how big a moment it was when a Mandalorian bounty hunter discovered this adorable, childlike green creature we initially dubbed "Baby Yoda." 

With that reveal, it seemed as if any criticisms, complaints and lingering resentment from the sequels momentarily subsided, replaced instead with the adoration millions suddenly had for Grogu. And for at least the first two seasons, Favreau and co-creator Dave Filoni couldn't miss, crafting a deliriously creative space Western that didn't coast on overexposed legacy names of the past. That is until Disney got greedy, flooding the market with inferior spin-offs and abandoning The Mandalorian after 2023's rough third season. So now amid creative chaos and confusion, this oddly becomes the first full-length Star Wars feature to hit theaters since 2019's The Rise of Skywalker. But awful timing aside, it is a blast seeing these two characters reunited in a film that's better than expected. 

Mandalorian Din Djarin, aka "Mando" (Pedro Pascal) and his foundling Grogu are hunting down Imperial forces on the outskirts of the galaxy when New Republic commander Ward (Sigourney Weaver) tasks Mando with rescuing the late Jabba the Hutt's son Rotta (voiced by Jeremy Allen White) and returning him to Jabba's twin successors. In exchange for this, the Hutts' promise Ward intel on the whereabouts of a mysterious warlord, with Mando begrudgingly accepting the assignment after a new Razor Crest ship sweetens the deal. 

Joined by his mini apprentice, Mando is directed to the moon Shakari, where he discovers Rotta pit fighting for crime-lord Janu (Jonny Coyne), Determined not to be judged by his father's tainted legacy or take part in the family business, Rotta enjoys newfound popularity as a fighter, making his extraction messier and more complicated than Mando anticipates. With Rotta disinterested in returning home and Janu unwilling to give up his prized competitor, Mando takes drastic measures, putting him and Grogu in harm's path. Only this time it's the foundling who's called upon to protect his adoptive father. 

In keeping with recent tradition for the spin-offs, this begins with a short title card rather than the franchise's iconic opening crawl, wisely distancing it from the other films and dropping us into the action right away. For fans of the series, a formal introduction is unnecessary while new viewers won't feel lost when Favreau and Filoni stick to the familiar formula, albeit with a few added flourishes.

The central mission to save Rotta is a good one that isn't bogged down by extraneous side quests, setting Mando on a collision course with three formidable villains, two of which share a connection to one of the original trilogy's more substantial characters, both in girth and importance. And though it's awkward seeing any member of the Hutt clan move (think Jabba in Lucas's '97 Special Edition) much less engage in combat, Rotta's backstory is certainly developed well enough. So even if there's no getting around his visual limitations as a muscular, intergalactic UFC fighter, White's vocal performance creates a sympathetic character, especially in scenes opposite Grogu. We're also treated to brief but humorous voice work from Martin Scorsese as a fearful Ardennian fry cook who nearly steals the film's first half.

Sigourney Weaver's role as Ward is smaller than advertised, to the point that some of her scenes in the trailers and commercials appear to have been cut. But in terms of kicking off the plot, the actress's fair, no-nonsense approach as an authority figure can still be appreciated, however briefly. As for Grogu, he kind of tags along for the ride during the first hour, engaging in his typically cute antics while Mando handles the heavy lifting, at least until a major development changes the course of things. 

Sixty minutes in, it feels as if this story's all wrapped up and the closing credits are ready to roll. Of course, we know that's not the case as Mando gets into deeper trouble escalating from his earlier decisions. And by necessity, Grogu will become more involved, giving the film its big payoff when he takes the initiative to rescue his dad. 

Despite a slow section where maybe too much time is spent with Grogu alone in the woods, everything does come together for an exciting finale. And those still complaining about Pedro Pascal's overexposure may want to prepare themselves for Mando's helmet coming off, as it did a couple of times already during the series' run. But how he loses it is thematically warranted, hardly lacking in either context or motivation. 

If Grogu's the real star, his closest competition might come from Oscar winning composer Ludwig Göransson, whose music here actually exceeds and builds on what he did on the show. And besides a return of that main title theme majestic enough to compete with John Williams' best, his electro-synth sounds interestingly highlight Mando and Grogu's excursion into Shakari's gritty fight pit. 

The biggest concern was always whether this would go a more cinematic route or safely play like an extended episode of the series. As a "two-parter" of sorts, it's clearly the latter, hypothetically ranking among the show's stronger entries. But in successfully harnessing the spirit of a series we'll probably never see again, you wonder why Disney couldn't even manage to announce they were shelving it. To this day, no one knows. Still, Favreau and Filoni get their act together to deliver a fun, tightly scripted adventure that recaptures much of the early magic. It's just a shame it didn't come sooner.                                   

Michael

Director: Antoine Fuqua
Starring: Jaafar Jackson, Colman Domingo, Nia Long, Miles Teller, KeiLyn Durrel Jones, Laura Harrier, Juliano Valdi, Joseph David-Jones, Nathaniel Logan McIntyre, Rhyan Hill, Judah Edwards, Jamal R. Henderson, Jayden Harville, Tre Horton, Jaylen Lyndon Hunter, Jessica Sula, Mike Myers, Kendrick Sampson, Larenz Tate, Liv Symone, Deon Cole
Running Time: 127 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)   

Despite widespread opinion that musical biopics are interchangeable, most can actually be distinguished by how far filmmakers stretch the truth and the level of devotion they hold for their subject. Director Antoine Fuqua's Michael proves this by delivering what's partially a tribute to unparalleled talent, but also an acknowledgment of his sad upbringing, both of which inform the superstar he later becomes. At one point he's told they'll never be anyone like him, and for better or worse, we realize just how accurate that statement is. More enamored with his fans than the idea of fame, he was pushed too far too soon, launching a career that reshaped music, but also destroyed him in the process. 

Michael never stood a chance at a normal life, and while Fuqua predictably caught heat for omitting the serious allegations leveled against the singer, he didn't have much choice, reshaping his third act to clear the legal hurdles required in getting this made. But it wouldn't fit the tone or timeline anyway, which revolves around a rags-to-riches story that helps explain why it's hard to find anyone who doesn't call themselves a fan, regardless of age, race, gender or nationality. And this captures that with spectacular musical sequences and a pair of performances in the title role that avoid the groans and awkward laughs you'd expect to associate with the project.

It's 1966 in Gary, Indiana and steel laborer Joseph Jackson (Colman Domingo) forms and manages a boy bond consisting of sons Jackie, Tito, Jermaine, Marlon and 10-year-old prodigy and lead vocalist Michael (Juliano Valdi). Collectively dubbed the Jackson 5 by the strict, domineering Joseph, he works them into the ground as they perform gigs across the country, catching the attention of Motown record executive Suzanne De Passe (Laura Harrier). But with the Jacksons topping charts and the family relocating to an Encino, California mansion, label founder Berry Gordy (Larenz Tate) sees even bigger money in Michael as a solo act.

In 1978 when an adult Michael (Jaafar Jackson) releases his first solo album "Off The Wall" for Epic Records producer Quincy Jones (Kendrick Sampson), Joseph starts tightening the powerful grip he holds over his youngest son who yearns to break away and assert his creative freedom as an adult. With the support of mom Katherine (Nina Long), friend and bodyguard Bill (KeiLyn Durrel Jones) and loyal attorney John Branca (Miles Teller) he does just that, emerging as a pop culture phenomenon. But Michael's success comes at a cost, as he struggles to completely free himself from his father's grip.

From an early age, Michael is told by Joseph that life is made up of "winners" and "losers" and he'll have to decide which he wants to be. It's ironic advice coming from someone who couldn't be a bigger loser in life or this movie, as we've long heard how all of Michael's issues can be traced to his dad. Colman Domingo's performance as this monster definitely tracks, but the actor's perceptive in how he plays him, depicting a man for which nothing is good enough, pushing his kids as far as he wants while lining his own pockets in the process. And in finding hurtful ways to phrase even the most fleeting  compliments, Domingo still manages to give Joseph small doses of humanity, until you realize it's just another con job to get what he wants out of his boys. 

That the Jackson kids never refer to their father as "Joseph" is telling, highlighting not only the distance between them, but the fact he's their manager first, especially when it comes to Michael. So talented on stage that his brothers may as well be invisible, the ten-year-old's potential places him under enormous pressure and first in line for Joseph's vicious belt beatings. 

In vaguely expressing her disapproval while occasionally offering up a delicately worded objection to Joseph's behavior, it's clear wife Katherine fears him. Long's role is easily the film's most thinly written, as we're expected to believe Joseph's reign of terror somehow skipped over the woman he married. For young Michael, escape comes in the form of Peter Pan, a story that reverberates through his adult life when he attempts to manufacture a childhood that was robbed from him. 

Juliano Valdi's heartbreakingly impressionable turn as young Michael and the Jackson 5's formation is probably the least explored, but most pivotal aspect to his biography. It's also a credit to John Logan's script that this period doesn't differ dramatically from the adult section, much like Michael himself. Similar to his fictitious hero, he never grows up and can't, torn between the dread of standing up to Joseph and forging a career on his own terms with the help of super attorney John Branca. There's also an appearance from Mike Myers as CBS Records president Walter Yetnikoff that just might be his least distracting cameo yet.   

Despite the two sharing only a handful of scenes, Michael's bond with his bodyguard Bill represents the rare instance where the singer seems able to forge a real connection with another human being. But like most of Michael's interactions, even this carries a sad transactional quality that could only come from being a star of such stature. His only true friends are the giraffes, snakes and dogs that will roam "Neverland Ranch" along with Bubbles the chimp, who's depicted with CGI laughable enough to temporarily take us out of the plot. 

The second and third acts revolve completely around Michael's music, with Fuqua essentially transforming this into an extended concert film that recreates the singers' most iconic performances and videos. And did he ever make the right decision by casting Michael's own nephew, Jaafar Jackson, who's marvel in the role. Not only does he nail the voice, changing looks and isolation of a scared little boy trapped inside an adult's body, but shows us Michael's brilliance as a performer and choreographer. Whether it's "Beat It," "Billie Jean," "Thriller" or "Bad," even the most skeptical fans are in for a treat watching him capture the King of Pop's moves and mannerisms, all while capably filling the sadder, quieter moments in between. 

The Pepsi commercial disaster is rightly marked as a huge pivot point, officially signaling the last gasp for the Jackson 5 as a unit and Joseph as a promoter too sleazy for even Don King (Deon Cole) to trust. More concerned with exploiting Michael than admitting his own role in the accident that nearly took the life of his now burned and disfigured son, this event only feeds into the star's obsession with altering his appearance. What starts as a rhinoplasty and treatment for vitiligo will spiral into multiple plastic surgeries, but the film stops just short of that. Instead, the focus remains on his stage shows and superstardom, with Fuqua depicting the hysteria of fainting concertgoers being carried out by security.  

If Michael's easily the most eccentric, complicated and strangely inaccessible artist to have such a massive reach, this presents a strong case for why. In scenes when he's visiting hospitalized sick children and relating better to them than any adult his own age, an innocence and kindness shines through, perhaps hinting at what could have been. Of course, it's also impossible to watch this without the looming specter of those eventual allegations crossing our minds, creating an uncomfortable dichotomy.  

Since the first hint of those still legally unproven claims don't surface until 1993, Fuqua gives us a Michael most would prefer to remember, with the caveat that anything resembling a normal, well adjusted life was sacrificed for the music. In a sense, Joseph was right about Michael eventually wanting to surround himself with enablers and "yes" men, possibly in an effort to retain the independence he was cruelly deprived of as a child. It's this that eventually leads to his undoing.  

Michael's a true rarity in possessing near universal appeal, a fact this movie solidly hits on, justifying what some have labeled a "paint by numbers" treatment of the legendary entertainer. But given the scope of his music, this traditionally straightforward approach feels right, especially since the essence of Michael's likability depended on a desire to reach as many people from different backgrounds as possible. So whether his idealistic goal to unite the world can be traced to arrested development or an abusive childhood, he believed it. And as a result, so did his fans.                                                           

Obsession

Director: Curry Barker
Starring: Michael Johnston, Inde Navarrette, Cooper Tomlinson, Megan Lawless, Andy Richter, Haley Fitzgerald, Darin Toonder, Curry Barker
Running Time: 109 min.
Rating: R

 **This Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers**

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

The supernatural premise driving writer/director Curry Barker's mind blowing horror thriller Obsession is so simple that it's easy to overlook all it does well, aside from the obvious. But audiences have noticed, which is a credit to how certain scenes and sequences linger, inviting the repeated viewings that's given it an unrivaled staying power. But it's tough going into a movie like that, almost as if you're primed for disappointment before the opening credits have even rolled. So this somehow still being able to overcome all the surrounding hype and expectations almost feels like an achievement in itself. 

After this, we can at least hope those who routinely dismiss and dissect even the worthiest films for resembling The Twilight Zone will finally realize it's a compliment to earn comparisons to television's greatest anthology series. But this monkey's paw morality tale shares as much in common with the comedically twisted Tales From the Crypt, which also featured a similarly themed episode involving a mystical love curse. But here, Barker's tone, style and execution puts this in a different class, exploring issues of agency and autonomy that are sure to spark discussion as it builds toward its chillingly chaotic conclusion. 

Shy, socially awkward Baron "Bear" Bailey (Mike Johnston) has a secret unrequited crush on his friend Nikki (Inde Navarrette) he considers revealing to her despite the uncomfortable dynamic it could create with their friends and music store co-workers Ian (Cooper Tomlinson) and Sarah (Megan Lawless). Grieving the sudden death of his beloved cat Sandy, Bear takes a trip to the local crystal shop to buy a Nikki a necklace, but instead picks her up the "One Wish Willow," a vintage toy promising to grant one wish per person when broken in half. 

After driving Nikki home from the bar later that night, Bear nervously chickens out and misses a golden opportunity to reveal his feelings. After frustratingly breaking the Willow and wishing she "love him more than anyone in the world," Bear unleashes an unhinged, erratic Nikki who's immediately obsessed with him. Now prone to outrageous lies, screaming fits, self harm and violent outbursts, she smothers Bear with affection, causing Ian and Sarah to express serious concern for her mental state. But as Bear continues to date Nikki and frantically tries to curb her dangerous impulses, he'll find out the hard way to be careful what you wish for.

It's almost a relief to find a horror film with four characters who lack some kind of traumatic backstory, at least as far as we know. And though their ages are in question (with a minimum of two homeowners and another applying to schools), they're just normal friends and co-workers hanging out, which only heightens the impact of the curse that's about to upend their relatively mundane lives. Bear's the unassuming "nice guy," Nikki's an outgoing fun loving personality, Ian's an irritating frat boy while sympathetic tattoo artist Sarah seems the most grounded. She also harbors a crush of her own on Bear, who's too infatuated with Nikki to notice.  

While it's easy to question Ian's motives for discouraging Bear's intended confession to Nikki and belittling him, we're also forced to admit he has a point since it's clear Bear was friend zoned a while ago and should probably just move on. Regardless, he can't muster up the guts to shoot his shot and instead breaks the Willow, robbing Nikki of whatever choice she would have made. It's here where things start to get really interesting since Bear's selfish actions aren't yet recognizable as those of a crazed misogynist. But having no clue this gag gift would work is a viable excuse for only so long, or exactly until the girl of his dreams transforms into "Freaky Nikki."

If all the characters suffer to some extent, a possessed Nikki easily endures the worst, causing stressful uncertainty in viewers about what this entity inhabiting her will do or say next. And she hasn't a clue herself, which makes this experience all the more nerve wracking, as its story rides entirely on an incredible performance that walks a razor's edge between campy humor and unrestrained terror. Everything Navarrette does could have so easily been cringy or flown off the rails, causing the whole premise to collapse under the weight of its lofty ambitions. Instead, we're on the edge of our seats dreading how far Nikki will go, or more alarmingly, what it'll take to stop her. 

For all the justifiable praise Navarrette's gotten, an underappreciated Mike Johnston doesn't have it easy either, constantly reacting to the insanity and abuse his apathetic Bear unleashes, going along with this until Nikki's behavior forces him to take action. But he's weak, outing himself as a coward more interested in controlling Nikki's thoughts and feelings while she's relegated to helpless observer, trapped inside the mind and body of someone else. Of the three friends, only one seems to genuinely care about her well being, even if that concern comes at a deadly price.              

More than a few scenes stand out, such as Nikki menacingly lurking in the shadows of the bedroom, her uproarious and instantly memeable reaction to a seemingly harmless house party game or Bear's desperate phone call to "alter" rather than reverse a curse he'd gladly support if all this other stuff didn't accompany it. There's also an unforgettable jump scare in the third act we do see coming, but still manages to shock since Barker is so skillful at distracting us, expertly milking the scene until he's ready to pull trigger. And when he does, we're devastated by just how long and uncomfortably brutal it is. 

Consider that the final warning shot, leading to a cruelly karmic final act where Bear finally runs out of options and all hell breaks loose. Through all this, Navarrette consistently conveys fleeting glimpses of the old Nikki struggling to slip out and escape, waging a battle within herself she can't possibly win. The cruel victim of circumstance and hardly a survivor, she's now looking at a very bleak future once authorities arrive at the gruesome crime scene. And in wisely opting not to show any of it, Barker lets a single blood curdling scream tell us everything we need to know.                                  

How to Make a Killing

Director: John Patton Ford
Starring: Glen Powell, Margaret Qualley, Jessica Henwick, Bill Camp, Zach Woods, Topher Grace, Ed Harris, Bianca Amato, Raff Law, Alexander Hanson, Adrian Lukis, James Frecheville, Nell Williams, Grady Wilson, Maggie Toomey
Running Time: 105 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)     

Extending his streak of compelling, outside the box choices, a still very busy Glen Powell delivers another charismatic turn in writer/director John Patten Ford's unjustly overlooked How To Make a Killing. Seemingly popping up everywhere, Powell's been labeled as overexposed, this despite challenging himself in a variety of different roles where he's fared better than most. And having now recently proven his worth as an action and rom-com lead, he tackles a wicked, biting satire best described as Dexter meets American Psycho. It's also a real hoot, subverting expectations at nearly every turn.

As the narrative unpeels its numerous layers, it's easy to envision audiences complaining about an abundance of plot holes. But the script's tighter than you'd think, with Ford effectively covering his tracks by keeping the focus squarely on the antagonist's complicated and constantly evolving motivations. Skillfully mixing dark humor with social commentary, it aims higher than being the latest Hollywood outing obsessed with eating the rich, as there's actually a lot more happening beyond it. 

On death row for murder, Becket Redfellow (Powell) awaits his final meal while telling a priest (Adrian Lukis) the story of how he wound up in prison. It begins decades earlier when his mom Mary (Nell Williams) was disowned by her father and wealthy Redfellow patriarch Whitelaw (Ed Harris) after her unplanned teen pregnancy. With Mary trying to make ends meet as a single mother to young Becket, the boy's crush on wealthy friend Julia Steinway falls by the wayside after his mom's shocking death sends him through a series of foster homes.

Years later, Mary's final wish for Becket to "fight for the life he deserves" still echos in his mind as an adult selling luxury suits in New York City. But after uncovering a legal loophole that entitles the last living Redfellow heir to a $28 billion inheritance, he gets an idea. Just as a recently married Julia (Margaret Qualley) reenters his life, he formulates a plan to kill the remaining members and collect the money. Considering the suspicions those consecutive deaths would raise, this proves challenging, at least until he's welcomed into the family by his generous Uncle Warren (Bill Camp). Though Becket starts to obtain the acceptance he's longed searched for, the murder and subsequent guilt continues, threatening to unravel this new life he's built for himself.  

By bookending events with Becket's imminent execution, the film not only creates a sense of urgency, but enables Powell to establish this confident and relaxed character who strangely appears resigned to his own fate. And while the story he spins is far out there, we're left with the impression he isn't lying or fudging facts, allowing us to see how this cocky but superficially likable guy ends up on death row. It may be easy to assume he gets sloppy and his luck runs out, but what actually happens is a lot more complicated.    

The intriguing pre-credit flashback prologue crucially sets the stage for all that follows, giving resonance to the cruel ultimatum Becket's mom receives at the hands of her cold, dismissive father. And whatever meaning she intended with her last words give him the green light for revenge, providing in his mind a reason to take what he's owed.    

That whole section is enhanced by the brief but impactful performances of child actors Grady Wilson and Maggie Toomey, who play the respective younger versions of Becket and Julia. Not only do they physically resemble their older counterparts, but certain quirks and details of their personalities are later replicated by Powell and Qualley. For a change, it's actually not a stretch to believe both pairs of actors are portraying the same people, with only time and age separating them.

Once Becket commits to clipping the leaves off his family tree to become sole heir, hilarity ensues when he clumsily realizes he's good at this whole murder thing. Dimwitted, arrogant Stock broker Taylor (Raff Law) and pretentious artist Noah (Zach Woods) are his initial targets, but these hapless younger cousins are merely in Becket's way, standing between him and a huge payout. The plot then further thickens once he falls hard for Noah's girlfriend Ruth (Jessica Henwick), who hasn't a clue she's involved with a serial killer. 

To Ford's credit, he preemptively addresses issues with the premise by having the FBI trail Becket early, even if they're incredibly dense and struggle to find a shred of evidence linking him to unexplained deaths of multiple family members. But at least the script has them make enough of that connection for us to accept he can't outmaneuver authorities forever, always remaining a misstep away from being caught. 

Becket's bond with his uncle Warren might be the most genuine relationship he has, if only because he's the sole Redfellow sincerely apologetic about what happened to him and his mom. And in giving this long lost nephew a job and opportunity, he proves it, earning Becket's loyalty and presumably ending his killing spree, at least until he's tempted to finish off other slimy cousins like crooked pastor Steven J. Redfellow (hilariously played by Topher Grace).

When Becket keeps the murder train rolling long after he's accumulated enough money and status to stop, Powell's performance helps explain why. If maybe there's a sick, addictive rush that comes in getting away with it, everything still comes back to the quest to avenge his mother and fulfill her dying wish, however twisted that logic becomes.  

Some may think Powell should have gone darker, but he gets it just right by playing him more reluctantly, putting viewers in the awkward spot of examining his justification, perhaps even while condemning the selected methods. Amid a plethora of less redeemable characters, he's at least given somewhat of a conscience as the actor strong arms us into considering whether Becket's really some sort of anti-hero. 

Margaret Qualley electrifies as Julia, popping in and out to prey on her childhood bond with Becket. Every mannerism and line delivery help define the eccentricities of a quirky, unpredictable character you can't take your eyes off. And neither can Becket, whether he wants to or not. Inevitably, he's torn between Julia and loyal, pure hearted girlfriend Ruth, who Henwick effectively plays as nearly her polar opposite. In many ways she represents Becket's best life, if only he can let go of his obsession with the inheritance. Instead, the lies and games continue to pile up. 

All this leads to the heavily awaited showdown with grandfather Whitelaw, who's chillingly played by a quietly intense Harris. And while Becket's encounter with the Final Boss who kicked his mom to the curb doesn't disappoint, there's also that nagging issue of how he ends up on death row. It's not for the reason you'd think, resulting in a devilishly ironic third act twist that carries strains of a gender reversed Gone Girl. 

Loosely based on the 1949 British film Kind Hearts and Coronets, this is Ford's follow-up to his indie sleeper hit, Emily The Criminal. But save for a law breaking main character, it's a total 180, with the director using this bigger platform and budget to make a far different film featuring an exceptionally loaded cast of talent. Compelling from start to finish, it's just a lot of fun, as wild developments lead the story exactly where it needs to go, climaxing with a final act that solidifies this as a strange trip worth taking.