Cocaine Bear

Director: Elizabeth Banks
Starring: Keri Russell, Alden Ehrenreich, O'Shea Jackson Jr., Ray Liotta, Isiah Whitlock Jr., Brooklynn Prince, Christian Convery, Margo Martindale, Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Kristofer Hivju, Hannah Hoekstra, Ayoola Smart, J.B. Moore, Scott Seiss, Matthew Rhys
Running Time: 95 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Labeling Elizabeth Banks' horror comedy Cocaine Bear as "based on a true story" probably stretches things a bit, but it's at least loosely inspired by one. In 1985, A giant black bear did ingest a duffle bag of drugs worth $15 million, only to die shortly thereafter. Edit out that very last part out and the rest of this dramatization is an uproarious "what if..," calling to mind other campy animal attack movies like Snakes on a Plane or Anaconda. The commercials and trailer pretty much guaranteed this, and whether you're even a fan of the sub-genre, it's hard to accuse anyone involved of false advertising. 

There's something to be said for a movie that knows exactly what it is. No more and no less. With few grand ambitions, the premise doesn't runs out of gas, clocking in at a lean, mean running time of barely over an hour and a half, which isn't only a relief, but feels just right. After meeting the characters and getting a very straightforward set-up, chaos ensues, followed by lots of laughs and carnage.

In many ways, it's the ideal project for Banks, a filmmaker whose choices have endured the usual mocking reserved for movie stars turned directors. And the decision to make this definitely wasn't an accident, as if to shut down any misconceptions she's taking herself too seriously. But it's still a shrewd move, mostly because it works and ends up being a lot of fun. Apparently, her idea was to view this as the bear's fictional revenge story, with the real animal now gaining an infamy and respect it couldn't have achieved as just a helpless casualty. Strangely, that sort of makes sense.

It's 1985 when drug smuggler Andrew C. Thornton II (Matthew Rhys) drops a large stash of cocaine from his plane before knocking himself unconscious and falling to his death with a duffle bag of drugs in Knoxville, Tennessee. Local detective Bob (Isiah Whitlock Jr.) identifies the body and links the coke to slimy St. Louis drug kingpin Syd White (Ray Liotta). But when the rest of the supply shows up in Chattahoochee National Forest's Blood Mountain, a giant black bear ingests it, becoming hyper-aggressive and out of control, killing a hiker. 

Skipping school, young Dee Dee (Brooklynn Prince) and her friend Henry (Christian Convery) come across the drugs in the forest, putting them in the crosshairs of this dangerous animal. As detective Bob descends upon the forest, Syd sends his right-hand man Daveed (O' Shea Jackson Jr.) and grieving, emotionally fragile son Eddie (Alden Ehrenreich) to find and retrieve the stash. Also arriving is Dee Dee's mom Sari (Keri Russell), a nurse, who searches for the kids with the help of park ranger Liz (Margo Martindale) and wacky wildlife activist Peter (Jesse Tyler Ferguson). But as the bear consumes increasing amounts of cocaine and takes more victims, the chances of anyone escaping alive start to look a whole lot worse.

Despite the early steps taken to set this scenario up, it isn't long before the bear's on the loose eating any brick of coke it can find. The eclectic cast of characters all have differing motivations but once they come to the realization of what's happening, it's not difficult figuring out where the plot has to go next. Jimmy Warden's script may not have a handful of surprises up its sleeve, but the story's what it needs to be as far as crazy cocaine bear movies go.  

Once the action gets going, the gore and excitement rarely let up and Banks does bring a little extra flair to the proceedings and relishes the 80's setting, particularly with some key song choices (like in a thrillingly hilarious Depeche Mode-backed ambulance chase scene), Mark Mothersbaugh's synth-driven score and the costuming selections. We even get an opening "Just Say No" PSA montage featuring Nancy Reagan and in a fitting cameo from Smokey Bear, at least in cardboard form. But it's really "Cokey" we're more interested in and the CGI beast really doesn't look half bad in a movie where they easily could have gotten away with it looking far worse.

Aside from the bear itself, there are some surprising scene stealers, namely Ehrenreich (who has great interplay with Jackson) and a very funny Christian Convery, who gives a performance right out of the precocious, geeky action kid handbook and really nails it. And even if this isn't what most envisioned for a major headlining Keri Russell role, she kind of holds it all together, especially in the second half where her adventure with the kids arguably carries the most interest among numerous sub-plots. Acting vets like Isiah Whitlock and the great Margo Martindale predictably shine, and though this won't be the late Ray Liotta's final screen appearance, he's perfectly cast, comedically sending up the type of sleazy, intimidating heavies he played throughout his career.

In the real story, there's a missing block of time between when the bear took the drugs and its death, so this creatively fills in those blanks. While no one knows exactly what happened, it's a safe bet the animal uneventfully succumbed before it could eat and dismember everyone in a coke-fueled rampage. But a documentary on a quiet, sleeping bear isn't what we came for. All the actors understand the assignment and seem to be having a blast. And why wouldn't they? Cocaine Bear lives up to its outrageous title, which is all that can reasonably be asked of it.

Yellowjackets (Season 1)

Creators: Ashley Lyle and Bart Nickerson
Starring: Melanie Lynskey, Tawny Cypress, Ella Purnell, Sophie Nélisse, Jasmin Savoy Brown, Sophie Thatcher, Samantha Hanratty, Steven Krueger, Warren Kole, Christina Ricci, Juliette Lewis, Courtney Eaton, Liv Hewson, Kevin Alves, Rekha Sharma, Jane Widdop, Sarah Desjardins, Rukiya Bernard, Aiden Stoxx, Peter Gadiot, Alex Wyndham
Original Airdate: 2021 

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)  

Lost meets Lord of the Flies in Showtime's Yellowjackets, which already managed to stand out as a major achievement in an increasingly crowded TV field. But what's most intriguing about this psychological thriller created by Ashley Lyle and Bart Nickerson is how it superficially appears to be taking us down a familiar road, before developing its premise in increasingly inventive ways that set it apart. At this point, the "mystery box" genre is basically an art form unto itself, often accompanied by demanding viewers' fears they'll only get burned in the end. And that's a real risk here, as questions and plots continue to accumulate, possibly increasing the odds of eventual frustration. Then again, maybe not. 

Considering how much is still likely to come, it's worth stopping to appreciate a series that feels as if its potential is limitless. And judging this season in a vacuum, freed from expectations of what's next, it's pretty astounding. While a truly accurate verdict can only come once the succeeding chapters play out, it's still impossible no to revel in its addictiveness. Whether or not this is the high water mark, when you get a ten episodes this meticulously constructed and suspenseful, the optimism feels warranted. 

Straddling two timelines, the show invites a rewatch for clues and details that could easily go unnoticed the first go-around. A chilling, occasionally gory survival tale and darkly comical coming-of-age story, it's most interested in how one event can leave lasting emotional trauma that shapes and scars its survivors well into adulthood. And in reframing the idea of what actually constitutes "surviving," it also provides some underappreciated 90's actresses the best roles of their careers, while being backed by a lineup of younger talents who match them at every turn. With a killer soundtrack and unmatched eye for period detail, it's a throwback that's also timely, digging deeply into current culture's true crime obsession.

It's 1996 when a plane carrying the Wiskayok, New Jersey high school girl's yellowjackets soccer team crashes in the Canadian wilderness en route to nationals in Seattle. They'll be stranded for 19 months, scouring for food and struggling to stay alive, holding out hope for a rescue that doesn't look imminent. Among the survivors are team captain and popular queen bee Jackie (Ella Purnell), her best friend Shauna (Sophie Nélisse), stubborn, super-competitive Taissa (Jasmin Savoy Brown), class burnout Natalie (Sophie Thatcher), wisecracking goalkeeper Van (Liv Hewson), schizophrenic Lottie (Courtney Eaton), devoutly religious Laura Lee (Jane Widdop) bullied, awkward equipment manager Misty (Samantha Hanratty) assistant coach Ben (Steven Krueger) and Travis (Kevin Alves) and younger brother Javi (Luciano Leroux), sons of Coach Martinez (Carlos Sanz), who perished in the crash. As winter approaches and the need for food becomes increasingly urgent, tensions bubble over, fragmenting the group. With the woods possibly holding some dark secrets of its own, it's heavily hinted they may soon be resorting to cannibalism to survive.

In present day, we meet the yellowjackets as middle-aged adults when they start receiving mysterious postcards marked with a familiar symbol, reuniting them to protect the secret of what really happened in the woods 25 years earlier. An impulsive Shauna (Melanie Lynskey) feels trapped in a sexless marriage with Jackie's ex-boyfriend Jeff (Warren Kole) when she's approached by suspicious reporter Jessica Roberts (Rekha Sharma), who's attempting to extract information about the crash. 

Taissa (Tawny Cypress) is running for state senator while trying to keep her family out of the public fray. Fresh out of rehab and struggling with her sobriety, Natalie (Juliette Lewis) attempts to locate recently missing ex-boyfriend Travis with geriatric nurse and self-proclaimed "citizen detective" Misty's (Christina Ricci) help. Clingy as ever and still desperately trying to be liked and accepted by the group, there's little she won't do to solve this mystery. With the crash's effects still impacting their lives, finally facing the truth might be the only way out. Unless a threatening blackmailer exposes it first.

Flashbacks and video footage are utilized in showing the public attention the accident has gotten, while we meet the team in the days leading up to the '96 crash. There's a heavy focus on Jackie, who's anointed team captain more for her influence over the others than soccer skills or leadership abilities. Her close friendship with sidekick Shauna seems partially built on a power dynamic that keeps Jackie  the center of attention as she runs around with Jeff (Jack DePew). But there's this subtle tension between the two girls you sense early on, as well as a gigantic secret that completely alters their relationship once the accident occurs, prompting Shauna step out of her friend's shadow. Physically and emotionally suffering in the wild, Jackie's social standing proves irrelevant when pushed this far outside her comfort zone.

With Taissa emerging as the group's leader, previously ostracized Mindy proves medically invaluable in the wilderness. And she knows it, the satisfaction of being needed causing her more manipulative, sociopathic tendencies to surface (like an obsession with Coach Ben). Samantha Hanratty is revelation in the role, which becomes even more apparent when you take Ricci's performance into account as the adult version.

Plagued by substance abuse and a rough upbringing, Natalie unexpectedly bonds with a very distant Travis. And off her medication, Lotti is having eerily prescient visions that are rapidly separating the believers from everyone else. That these sub-plots aren't entirely divorced from real teen problems in the 90's give them even more weight, as many of them were already bubbling under the surface before that fated flight took off.

Perceived pecking orders and hierarchies are flipped once everyone's thrown into a do-or-die scenario that exposes their strengths and weaknesses. It's not surprising things get ugly fast, but the series excels most in depicting the tiny, uncomfortable details that aren't talked about or don't initially come to mind when considering the challenges of being stranded in the woods with no help in sight. 

Credit the makeup and effects team for believably depicting some gruesome deaths and injuries that only intensify in number as this wears on. If episode 7 ("No Compass") contains the season's scariest and most shocking event, tensions reach a peak in the ninth ("Doomcoming"), when the group trips on hallucinogenic shrooms, causing all hell to break loose. What happens next ensures there's no turning back from the darkness. Some will embrace that, even as others don't.  

Ella Purnell's complicated and nuanced performance as outgoing, insecure "mean girl" Jackie creates somewhat of a dilemma since she's the lead and her character isn't seen in present day.  That we immediately assume the worst only increases the intrigue level, prompting speculation as to whether the writers would actually kill off such a major player this early. And if so, why? While there's a genuine sense no one is safe, many reasons work in explaining why we haven't met certain adult versions of the girls. At least as of yet. Everything's on the table, with the only guarantee being that the worst is certainly still ahead. 

All the older actresses are accurate ringers for their younger counterparts in looks, demeanors and personalities, so even as Jackie's future absence remains conspicuous, Shauna, Taissa, Natalie and Misty more than carry the load. Stuck in a state of arrested development, Shauna has a terrible relationship with her rebellious daughter Callie (Sarah Desjardins) and in therapy with husband Jeff when she embarks on an affair with the younger Adam (Peter Gadiot). A suspicious artist who happens to land in her life just as the yellowjackets are being blackmailed, he immediately sends up all sorts of red flags. 

Lynskey carries much of the present day story and it might go unnoticed just how consistently effective she is in playing a woman so used to burying her trauma that she can hardly recognize herself anymore. Based on recent life choices, guilt-ridden Shauna should be the the series' most unlikable character, but in Lynskey's capable hands she's actually sympathetic, and a times hilarious with a twisted, deadpan sense of humor. Part of the our attachment to her may stem from what Sophie Nélisse does as the teen version just seeing what she went through out there. It's just not the kind of emotional trauma that heals overnight, making it easier to see why she'd be prone to these disastrous decisions.  

What hasn't changed about adult Taissa is the stubbornness, throwing herself into the public eye with a senate run that not only draws unwanted attention to the group, but compromises the safety of wife Simone (Rukiya Bernard) and their troubled young son Sammy (Aiden Stoxx). What's going on with her is viscerally disturbing and on an entirely different level than the other survivors, suggesting a full-fledged dissociative disorder of some kind. Tawny Cypress does an exceptional job conveying the growing panic of someone whose private and public personas are simultaneously unraveling. The biggest danger Taissa's family faces just might be her, and she knows it.

Few would complain if the whole series were a middle-aged Misty and Natalie buddy comedy, as their onscreen chemistry is priceless, providing Ricci and Lewis the ideal outlet for their distinctive talents. Misty is who she is, and unapologetically so. If the rest were forever changed by the crash, you get the impression she's always been like this. Thirsting for acceptance, unable to read social cues and yet strangely comfortable in her own skin, there's hardly a moment of reflection or regret for this toxic caregiver, even when leveraging others to further her agenda. Everything is a means to an end, but Ricci brilliantly imbues this painfully self-aware character with such funny, likable quirks that you can't help but want to believe good intentions could be buried beneath even her most deluded behavior. 

Misty is the ideal foil to Nat, played by a manically unhinged Juliette Lewis at the top of her game. Wildly unpredictable and constantly on the verge of substance relapse, she doesn't suffer fools, which Misty appreciates. Nat actually does seem to need her help, but isn't above above using manipulation or blackmail either, representing a stark change from the brave, resourceful girl we see in the woods in '96. It's obvious Nat's had the roughest post-crash existence, greatly contrasting with how highly she's been spoken of by Shauna and Taissa. But that was the past and this is the present. What happened in between is still largely unknown, despite an abundance of clues and bread crumbs dropped throughout.

The show's already mastered the lost art of classic opening title sequences, with Craig Wedren and Anna Waronker's theme, "No Return" seemingly arriving via time machine from the mid-90's. It's accompanied by a grungy, VHS-style assortment of obscure shots sure to have fans frantically searching for Easter eggs. And the rest of its Gen-X infused soundtrack lives up to that musical promise, featuring an onslaught of cleverly placed, period specific needle drops from the likes of The Smashing Pumpkins, The Offspring, Jane's Addiction, Hole, Collective Soul, Liz Phair, The Cranberries and Belly. 

It's hardly a spoiler to reveal that the Eduardo Sánchez-directed finale ("Sic Transit Gloria Mundi') contains multiple surprises and tragedies, as the events of 1996 continue to inform our evolving perceptions of 2021 and its current characters. The tensions between young Jackie and Shauna will have to reach a head, the repercussions of which still clearly reverberate decades later. Adult Misty's desire for control reaches alarming levels as the fragility of Taissa's mental state proves even more precarious than initially suspected. And how about the postcards and blackmail? What about Adam? But maybe more importantly, who's the Antler Queen?  

A genre mash-up of sorts, this feels like the kind of series we've been waiting for, even if it's necessary to temper those expectations with the possibility it can just as easily fly off the rails. While there have already been teases of the supernatural, it's probably too risky a proposition to build the series around it. It's been at its best when exploring the interpersonal relationships and psychological trauma resulting from the crash's aftermath. There's likely to be a continued emphasis on the mystical horror/sci-fi elements, but that tends to work better in a less literal sense, instead reflecting the characters' fractured psyches. How to balance that is a decision they'll have to make before the show can truly know what it is.

If the writers play their cards right, they can expand not just this story, but the series' entire universe. The media circus and the public obsession with the crash seems like fertile ground for future episodes, as does the eventual rescue itself, assuming that's what happens. We could also get a glimpse into what the survivors' lives were like after their return, or even further before the flight. And we'll definitely be getting more older versions of the '96 characters, only further fueling speculation.

Supposedly, the creators have a five-year plan in place, and while it's easy to imagine there's enough story to sustain that, the details will be what matter most. In the meantime, it's safe to bet on many twists and blindsides, as the series continues to show all the signs of evolving into something really special. Whether what follows is capable of sustaining its creative ambition is another matter. Either way, what comes next is anyone's guess, so it's probably just best to buckle up and prepare for a wild ride. 

Quantum Leap: Season 1 (2022)

Creators: Donald P. Bellisario, Steven Lilien, Bryan Wynbrandt
Starring: Raymond Lee, Caitlin Bassett, Mason Alexander Park, Nanrisa Lee, Ernie Hudson, Susan Diol, Georgina Reilly, Walter Perez
Original Airdate: 2022-23 

**The Following Review Contains Plot Spoilers For Both The Original And New Versions of 'Quantum Leap'**

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

If there's a film or TV series you hold in the highest regard, just the mere mention of a potential reboot or sequel is unsettling. Often these feelings are tied to a formative viewing experience, the memories leaving as lasting an impression as the actual entertainment itself. Even in a pop culture landscape where everything's on the table for reinterpretation, telling fresh stories off the backs of widely beloved characters and plots still triggers immediate cynicism. But even sometimes against our better judgment, we need to find out. So now, after decades of false starts, unsubstantiated rumors and conflicted feelings of dread and anticipation, a new Quantum Leap finally arrives. 

On May 5, 1993 the original series aired its polarizing finale, "Mirror Image." And something seemed different when Sam entered that mysterious bar and saw his own reflection.What few realized then, but many have come to appreciate since, is just how perfect an ending it was. 

Sending the time traveling Dr. Sam Beckett (Scott Bakula) home would have been so easy, providing closure for the selfless hero leaping to "put right what once went wrong." But creator Donald P. Bellisario had other plans. Such an ending may have satisfied fans, but it would have been a fleeting high. Instead, he crafted a piece of art that's continued to inspire debate and analysis in the decades since.

When the title card appeared on screen informing us of Sam's fate, it was an emotional gut punch, but also the most fitting send-off a series could get. It was about sacrifice and he still had one left to make for his friend Al (Dean Stockwell), who got his own richly deserved ending. Bakula and Stockwell would never act together again in a QL-related project and it's a testament to the episode's impact that you can strangely feel that in the closing minutes. While the door was intentionally left ajar, a follow-up never came and any chances of a continuation suddenly seemed impossible following Stockwell's 2021 passing. Even if Bakula could be coaxed into returning, discussion soon shifted to whether it was still worth doing anymore.

NBC's announcement of a new series was met with understandable skepticism and disbelief well before cameras even started rolling. But roll they did, with an announced cast, a change in showrunning duties (with Martin Gero stepping in for Steven Lilien and Bryan Wynbrandt, who stayed on as executive producers alongside Dean Georgaris and the returning Deborah Pratt), a reconfigured pilot and no Bakula, who many fans assumed would at least be partially involved. It's disappointing, but regardless of what factored into that decision, he's more than earned the right to make it after all he's done for the franchise.

This airing on NBC rather than Peacock was seen as another red flag, with increased worries that network tinkering would compromise what made the series special, abandoning the original blueprint in favor of attracting more casual viewers. But it turns out there was no need to hit the panic button. Even if the jury's still out on whether all the kinks can be worked out, it's a safe bet no one expected the show to dig this deeply into the time travel mythology, escaping the confines of a network procedural to appeal to hard sci-fi fans.

It's been thirty years since Dr. Sam Beckett vanished into the Quantum Leap accelerator and now the time travel project has been restarted with a new team attempting to unravel its inner workings. But when lead physicist Dr. Ben Song (Raymond Lee) inexplicably decides to enter the accelerator early after uploading a new program code, he gets stuck in the past, leaping into others. Guiding Ben along the way is fiancée and co-worker, Addison Augustine (Caitlin Bassett) who appears in the form of a hologram that only he can see and hear, just as Al did for Sam.  

Helping to retrieve Ben are the project's head, Herbert "Magic" Williams (Ernie Hudson), chief programmer Ian (Mason Alexander Park) and head of security Jenn (Nanrisa Lee). Recently deceased Al's daughter, Janis Calavicci (Georgina Reilly), is also involved, possessing valuable intel about why Ben leaped, her secrecy potentially stemming from lingering resentment over being shut out of the project. With each new leap Ben changes people's lives, but when an unexpected complication arises, he realizes there's far more at stake than him being permanently lost in time. 

While bringing Sam home was a main objective in the classic series, the stories were more character-driven, spending the entire length of its episodes on the leap at hand. Him returning wasn't the focal point so it was rarely essential to watch episodes in chronological order. Here, there's a long mystery arc doled out over the course of the season that's splitting screen time with the actual leaps. Because of this, there's a large present day focus on the new headquarters (now relocated from New Mexico to L.A.) with an expanded cast of regulars.

Whether it was partially due to budgetary concerns, getting only occasional glimpses of the project itself did sure work out well for the original, at least story-wise. But with the emphasis on serialized drama these days, there was little chance we'd see that again, or have a lead called upon to appear in each minute of every scene in all the episodes, as Bakula did. It's just a lot for any actor to take on without the support of an ensemble, so this project-heavy approach makes sense from a practical standpoint.

Fears about this change aren't immediately alleviated, as the show does take some time finding its legs. With nearly every network series being a procedural of some sort, the pressure's on to stand out in other ways and you sense that as the leaps and HQ scenes awkwardly battle for prominence early on. There's a ways to go before those feel seamlessly interconnected, but once we're past the background exposition to catch viewers up, a gradual uptick in quality is noticeable.

Ben and Addison as an engaged couple represents such a seismic shift in the leaper-observer dynamic that you almost have to believe it was a network decision. Yet it's easy to see why they did it as a way to raise the stakes and maybe eliminate the complication of our protagonist becoming romantically involved with supporting characters while physically occupying other people. Elements that worked with Sam just won't fly as well today so it's not difficult to believe this was a consideration. I initially groaned at the notion of them being a couple, but after seeing it executed, it's almost impossible to imagine a version of the script without their relationship, especially considering the whole series revolves around it. 

The idea of Ben leaping through time with a Swiss cheese memory (a carryover from the original) with Addison advising him does provide a hook. In the dark as to why he left, she can't completely trust him, and he can't fully believe in himself, at least until the amnesia wears off  The only character who does is the rebellious Janis, who provides the show's the most vital, sustaining link to the original. Denied the opportunity to help fulfill her dad's dying wish to find Sam, she's grown to resents mom Beth (guest star Susan Diol, reprising her classic role) and Magic for cutting her off from the project.

We know Janis can't be an outright villain, but she has answers, refusing to reveal the intricacies of Ben's motivations to the team. Whereas the original series saw Sam indiscriminately flung from year-to-year, Ben's journey is more coordinated, with a specific path mapped out before stepping into that accelerator. The entire season hinges on what that is, with a leap order that fits together to form pieces of a larger puzzle. 

Doing away with the infamous HQ "waiting room"  that temporarily held those being leaped into likely resulted from a desire to streamline the  process for new viewers. Its presence could have infused the project scenes with an urgency more closely tied to the leaps, but the team dealing with that in an already jam packed forty minutes is still a big ask. That this is a new project with more advanced technology probably supplied the writers enough headcanon to justify not addressing it. We'll just have to chalk this up to the tough compromises made in trying to please two audiences.    

You see that juggling act in the pilot ("July 13th, 1985"), where Ben leaps into an undercover cop thwarting an attempt to steal the Hope Diamond. In an extremely compressed time frame, the writers need to introduce the premise and its characters, provide a project history lesson and establish the present-day scenario at HQ. The episode was reportedly stitched together with a later one, but the potential is still evident. In an effort to grab viewers right away with action and adventure, the biggest worry would be foregoing the human element that made the classic series so unique.

Those concerns begin dissipating in the third episode ("Somebody Up There Likes Ben"), which not only calls back to Sam's leap into a boxer in "The Right Hand of God," but returns the show to its roots in dealing with serious issues like PTSD. And we see those themes emerge throughout, with Ben stepping into the shoes of those struggling with divorce ("What A Disaster!"), child abuse ("Stand By Ben") medical malpractice ("Paging Dr. Song"), discrimination ("Let Them Play," "Family Style") and even mental illness ("Ben, Interrupted"). Of course, that's an oversimplification of what actually unfolds in these leaps, which revolve around strong guest star performances from Jon Chaffin, Justin Hartley, Sofia Parnas, Jewel Staite, Deborah Ann Woll and Brandon Routh. And that's just to name a few.

If there's a recurring quibble it's that the episodes share a similar look from week to week, at times appearing visually indistinguishable aside from certain costuming and soundtrack choices. To be fair, the classic series frequently had the advantage of covering an earlier era that offered more opportunities in this regard. But even the episodes where Ben leaps out of his own lifetime do tend to more closely resemble how the past looks from a 2022-23 perspective. Since most of this could be budget related, it's worth keeping an eye on next season.

Give the producers credit for realizing the leaper and hologram need to be two different personalities from what we previously got. But they've definitely found the right guy in Raymond Lee, who you can't help but positively compare to Bakula because there are certain similarities. Charismatic and believable when in reluctant action hero mode, he also brings that much needed vulnerability to the season's more dramatic arcs, with a performance that steadily grows and impresses with each new revelation about Ben's history with Addison and his ultimate purpose.

Lee doesn't miss a beat, and if it seemed like a huge comedic event on the rare occasion Sam leaped into a woman, Ben frequently does this like nobody's business. That the gender swap isn't mined for laughs or treated any differently reflects current times, but also demonstrates how certain details of this premise have been retooled in ways you may not consciously stop to consider. 

In her television acting debut, Caitlin Bassett brings a playfully direct, no-nonsense energy to Addison, with the actress's own military background likely coming in handy while playing a character who's also a vet. As the only cast member consistently appearing in both the past and present, she has to do some heavy lifting, frequently functioning as the glue that holds these two timelines together. Not completely sure she can trust Ben's reasons for leaping and emotionally fractured by his memory loss, their relationship is fraught with obstacles. Clearly, her greatest fear is that he's destined to become another Sam Beckett and never return home, or possibly worse. 

Sam is referenced often enough you'd be fooled into thinking Ben stepped into the accelerator to find him, and while Janis' presence only seems to lend further credence to that, this is all about Ben and Addison, as it should be. But that's not to say proper reverence isn't shown toward the original, since it's sometimes shocking just how far down the rabbit hole this goes. 

Having already experienced his own brush with Dr. Beckett in the classic 1990 episode "The Leap Home (Part 2-Vietnam)," that Magic's now leading this team speaks to the impact Sam leaping into him had. As expected, Hudson's phenomenal as the show's firm, stabilizing moral center, still shaken by that event decades ago, tough as it may be to fully articulate. We see it through his relationships with Janis and Beth, at headquarters, and in his dedication to not letting history repeat itself with Ben. 

The cutting between Ben's leaps and the project takes some getting used to before hitting its stride at the season's midway point, and once the big mystery is revealed, all bets are off. During this and throughout these 18 episodes, the performances of Mason Alexander Park and Nanrisa Lee become exceedingly crucial. The former brings some well-timed sarcastic humor and heart to even the tensest moments as Ian, operator of the project's supercomputer Ziggy, who's either more or less important than in the original, depending on your perspective. 

The writers wisely acknowledge that the internet  sort of stole Ziggy's thunder, as Ian's increasing reliance on Reddit groups and Wikipedia conveys. Being slightly aloof and harboring a checkered past, Jenn at first seems to have more in common with Janis than the rest of the team. But Nanrisa Lee lands her character in a more relatable place, eventually emerging as an undeniable fan favorite.

The possibility we'd ever see "evil leapers" again seemed unfathomable, but that's kind of exactly what occurs. There's a twist to the concept, but it isn't long after Ben's memory partially returns that the mysterious "Leaper X"/Richard Martinez (Walter Perez) makes his first appearance. 

A solider with one goal in mind, Martinez sees himself as the true hero, with motivations that are  surprisingly timely. Crossing paths with Ben multiple times, their conflict reaches its crescendo in the final stretch, with our protagonist laying it all on the line to save Addison and potentially everyone involved with the project itself. It's here where things go a little caca, but not so much that audiences can't divorce themselves from the minutiae of every detail and just enjoy. 

Time travel fanatics will be dissecting this until their brains hurt, but it's really just a relief to have a major network series that doesn't insult the intelligence of its viewers, regardless of whether it all completely holds up. Just imagine Doc Brown's Back to the Future Part II chalkboard explanation on steroids, with leapers leaping into leapers, multiple timelines and even different versions of the same characters sharing scenes together. It's also tough to remember Sam ever being in the physical jeopardy Ben is in the season's pulse-pounding penultimate episode.

The sinking sense Ben may not actually survive doesn't let up in the finale ("Judgment Day"), temporarily causing us to forget there's another season to get to. It's fair to call this one particular story closed, with potentially larger issues still ripe for exploration. Unlike the original, Ben returning isn't out of the question, but it's even less difficult imagining a scenario where he'd somehow need to step into the accelerator again if he did. Since Addison already leaped in the original history, it's also conceivable any of the other characters could too, should the situation demand. And having already seen them all as observers in the finale, the floodgates have really opened in terms of how the writers want to shake this up.

When promos and commercials for the revival aired showing clips of watershed events like 9/11, the Berlin Wall falling and the O.J. Bronco chase, you see the untapped potential that can still be mined from one of television's most inventive premises. But regardless of whether we do get any of those teased "kisses with history," I'd still put money on Bakula appearing. If only even for a couple of minutes, seeing him and Raymond Lee bounce off each other would be something else. With this many episodes under its belt and a story already well underway, the encounter might make more sense now than it initially did. 

With many more viewing options now than when the original aired, it's somewhat ironic this returns as the traditional network model struggles to maintain relevance. As fun as it is to imagine the potential of a tight, higher budgeted 10-episode season on a streamer like Peacock, this is what we have, with the cast and crew doing an admirable job working within that creative sandbox. And any worries about the show finding an audience were unfounded, as the series was able to see its multi-episode arc through while setting the stage for more.

While fans shouldn't feel obligated to warmly embrace everything about the new Quantum Leap out of franchise loyalty, prematurely disregarding this solely on the basis it exists seems equally unfair. A weight's definitely been lifted by getting it, and whatever issues need ironing out have nothing to do with the original, which isn't going anywhere. Far from a desecration, it's a sequel that takes the story in a different direction that mostly works, making it easier to judge this for what it is rather than whatever we envisioned it would be.                                                   

Knock at the Cabin

Director: M. Night Shyamalan
Starring: Dave Bautista, Jonathan Groff, Ben Aldridge, Nikki Amuka-Bird, Rupert Grint, Abby Quinn, Kristen Cui
Running Time: 100 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

The opening minutes of Knock at the Cabin are so tense and gripping you worry it can't possibly last, while we anxiously wait for the rug to be pulled out from under us with another M. Night Shyamalan twist. But then a weird thing happens as the story escalates and becomes absorbing enough to wash away any lingering fears of disappointment. In its place comes the realization that the polarizing director could actually nail this, potentially delivering his best work since Unbreakable. And then he does.

In recent years Shyamalan's shown flickering sparks of former glory with stronger efforts like Split, but has remained an unfortunate punchline, most recently bumbling a promising premise with 2021's Old. If there's a flaw with this film it's that we know in advance who directed it, making it difficult not to carry in some of that baggage. But whatever you may think of his output, he's still here plugging away, ignoring the criticisms and attempting to tell fresh stories in a moviegoing landscape where good ideas aren't always celebrated. That has to count for something. 

On description alone, it's easy to see why The Twilight Zone-inspired filmmaker was drawn to Paul Tremblay's 2018 novel "The Cabin at the End of the World," and maybe even less surprising that it's the quickest script he's ever hammered out. Working with a terrific concept that plays on Shyamalan's strengths while suppressing what many believe are his worst impulses, he's back at his most precise and restrained, efficiently letting this play out in the most suspenseful manner possible. It also features an unexpectedly rich performance from a promising actor who really turns it up a notch here, further establishing himself as a talent worth taking very seriously. Reminding us just how skilled he can be at handling this type of material, Shyamalan's again firing on all cylinders for the first time in a while.

While vacationing with her two fathers Eric (Jonathan Groff) and Andrew (Ben Aldridge) at a remote cabin in rural Pennsylvania, 7-year-old Wen (Kristen Cui) is approached by a hulking, soft spoken stranger named Leonard (Dave Bautista). After engaging in some friendly if slightly unsettling banter, he explains to Wen that he needs desperately needs her family's help to save the world. After three other mysterious companions named Sabrina (Nikki Amuka- Bird), Adriane (Abby Quinn) and Redmond (Rupert Grint) show up alongside Leonard, she frantically runs inside to warn her dads. But armed with makeshift weapons, they force their way into the cabin and tie up Eric and Andrew.

The intruders warn of an oncoming apocalypse that can only be stopped if one family member is sacrificed. If they refuse to make a choice, they'll survive, but as the last remaining people on Earth. Believing themselves to be targeted by a gang of delusional psychopaths fueled by fear and hatred, Eric and Andrew understandably push back, refusing to buy any of this. But as news reports of natural disasters and pandemics quickly intensify, Leonard's warnings of impending doom become frighteningly prescient. Assuming any of this is true, their continuous denials could have dire consequences, unleashing a series of plagues that threaten humankind. Whether they were specifically targeted or not, their survival may depend entirely on the decision they make, as the intruders' doomsday clock continues to tick.

Introducing itself as a home invasion thriller, there's a clever conceit around which the film revolves. And yet there's still a strong possibility the crime is exactly what it looks to be on the surface, despite many inexplicable occurrences and coincidences. That no character would reasonably believe any of these warnings is Shyamalan's biggest challenge, as he has to create enough doubt for this abducted family to let their guard down enough to start questioning themselves. With a timely script that openly acknowledges the absurdity of its own premise, the invaders are fully aware that not a word they speak will be taken at face value. At points they're even downright apologetic toward their hostages, as if they've been called to duty by visions and reasons still unfamiliar to them. 

That all this screams "suicide cult" only makes it easier for Eric and Andrew to categorize this as a gay hate crime. And we find out they have good reasons to assume it is, as vital flashbacks of their lives before and on the day they arrive at this cabin help establish who they are and where things could be headed. As for the antagonists, their histories and intentions are understandably left murkier, since fleshing that out would compromise the pervasive sense of existential dread and mystery the plot calls for. Their stated purpose needs to be just as crazy as it seems, with holes big enough to drive a truck through, but containing just enough evidence to invite questions. Shyamalan opens the door for audiences to contemplate how much it takes to believe the impossible, before taking it a little further, digging into how easy it is to deny anything, with or without irrefutable proof. 

Eric is the more even headed husband, but far from ready or willing for this confrontation, as an injury early on has us questioning his judgment. Andrew assumes the worst in people, even as his refusal to budge on the simplest, most logical explanation initially seems justified. Groff and Aldridge bring different tools to the table while both conveying the primary objective of these men to protect their little girl. As the predicament wears on, each undergo a transformation, discovering some painful truths about themselves they wouldn't have otherwise known or admitted. 

Kristen Cui is a real discovery, precociously playing Wen, while remaining smart and observant about the horror unfolding around her. This child is understandably scared to death and shows it, but there isn't a false moment in the performance or a sense she's not completely aware of the stakes. Amuka-Bird, Quinn and Grint are all impressive in depicting the intruders' own fears and uncertainties about this mission, but it's Dave Bautista who sets the tone, showing us what he's capable of in the hands of a major director. 

Carrying the whole film from the moment he comes out of the woods with a quiet, remorseful presence, Bautista portrays Leonard as a calm, outwardly kind man unwilling to deviate from a plan we're not sure he wants to go through with, or even can. The performance doesn't give any hints, leaving equal room for theories that this giant could be a complete sociopath, a prophetic truth teller or gullible mark sucked into a dark web of conspiracy theories. It's a fairly complex role, but he completely owns it, fully immersing himself in this compelling character.  

Shyamalan endings are often fodder for ridicule, but he sticks this one by not trying to be overly clever, opting instead to provide a definitive answer. There are only two real ways this can go, and while variations exist within those possibilities, everything still comes down to the single question of whether these people are telling the truth. Without any unnecessary fakeouts, he lands in the right place, with a chilling finale as focused as anything he's ever done. Knock at the Cabin doesn't cheat, giving audiences craving an intelligent thriller the satisfaction of knowing they got what was promised.                                       

Armageddon Time

Director: James Gray
Starring: Anne Hathaway, Jeremy Strong, Banks Repeta, Jaylin Webb, Anthony Hopkins, Tovah Feldshuh, Ryan Sell, John Diehl, Jessica Chastain, Andrew Polk
Running Time: 115 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

While watching writer/director James Gray's semi-autobiographical, coming-of-age drama Armageddon Time, it's almost impossible not to subconsciously think of Steven Spielberg's The Fabelmans. But even as both respected filmmakers' childhoods are defined by complicated relationships with their Jewish families, there are key differences. This is more intimate, dryer and less showy than Spielberg's effort, which isn't necessarily a put down. And with the exception of a couple of cameos sure to stir debate, it's not nearly as eccentric. A subdued experience that functions as a time capsule of early eighties New York, it's also a project that transcends the director's own nostalgia to convey larger points about inequality and prejudice. 

Gray deserves credit for making this less about him than how a kid his age viewed a changing world. Known for smaller character driven pieces, it snuggly fits into his filmography, and since Gray isn't the public figure Spielberg is, it feels like less of an event. But that works well in managing viewer expectations, enabling us to more easily lose ourselves in the story and performances. Despite a downbeat tone, the care and attention to detail make it a comfortable universe to reside in for nearly two hours, as its young leads convey an authentic friendship that's tested by the biases surrounding them.  

It's 1980 in Queens, New York and on his first day of sixth grade, Paul Graff (Banks Repeta) befriends a rebellious African-American student named Johnny Davis (Jaylin Webb), who was held back a year. When the two start getting into trouble, Johnny receives the brunt of the blame, while Paul's ambitions of becoming an artist are scoffed at by his caring but strict Jewish parents, Irving (Jeremy Strong) and Esther (Anne Hathaway). Only grandfather Aaron Rabinowitz (Anthony Hopkins) encourages his artistic pursuits and dispenses sage advice, while still acknowledging he has some growing up to do.

When the two boys are caught smoking a joint in the school restroom, Paul is sent to the same private school as his older brother Ted (Ryan Sell), trying to fit in as he and Johnny's bond is challenged by the move. Feeling burdened by the weight of his parents' lofty expectations, Paul soon realizes just how much his friend's perilous situation is dictated by outside forces far beyond their control.   

Shot in this brownish, old timey hue by cinematographer Darius Khondji, it sometimes feels as if this takes place earlier than 1980, with references to the Beatles and just a general feeling that Paul's being guided into conforming to the standards of his parents and grandparents' generation rather than his own. Some of the best scenes are at school, with him and Johnny immediately forging a friendship based on shared interests and a penchant for creating chaos. 

The story reaches a point that that you start wondering whether the adults are inadvertently pouring gasoline on the fire, with the kids' behavior worsening with each new warning or consequence. We also get the impression that they're being held to entirely different standards, with many believing Paul's been corrupted by this new black kid in class. That both could be equally responsible rarely crosses anyone's minds, leading to even uglier consequences later on.

Paul dreams of becoming an artist and Johnny intends to work for NASA, but both are discouraged at every turn, which is ironic considering how anyone today would be impressed a pair sixth graders have such grand ambitions at all. But these goals are really only attainable for Paul, who's white. Johnny has no parents and lives with his grandmother, while his more privileged, connected friend has a mom on the school board and a hard working father with high standards. Young actors Repeta and Webb are extremely likable in their roles, even when doing unlikable things. And is this gets progressively heavier, both are up to the task, subtly projecting a potential in their characters that flies over the heads of these authority figures.    

Anthony Hopkins makes the most out of his supporting role as the boy's pragmatic grandfather, a wise, empathetic figure who stands in stark contrast to Paul's dad, or so we think. It's revealed just how much the pressure of living up to that example weighs on Irving, with a performance from Jeremy Strong that only becomes more nuanced as the film progresses, establishing the character as someone more than a strict disciplinarian who reaches for the strap every time Paul tests him. 

Hathaway is effortless in her part, sliding into Gray's early 80's universe as a working mother  contemplating conflicted feelings of concern and uncertainty over the right way to handle their son's behavior. Paul fears the beating of his young life when his dad discovers his worst transgression yet, only to realize that's preferable to the actual punishment, which involves a transfer to Forest Manor Prep in Queens. This leads to a face-to-face encounter with the school's primary financial donor, a mustachioed businessman by the name of Fred Trump (John Diehl). 

If that wasn't enough, Paul even sits through a speech by Fred's daughter and school alumna Maryanne Trump (Jessica Chastain). So even if it may be more interesting to watch a documentary detailing Gray's conversation with the Oscar winner about taking the role, this apparently happen, as the family's involvement at Forest Manor during this time is quite real. Their brief inclusion, as shocking as it is, does seem less about them than what they represent. Fred's most infamous son may not be in it, but Gray's intentions still come across loud and clear.

Maryanne's motivational talk foreshadows the film's ending, even if Gray has a tougher time directly tying that to the featured news clips of Ronald Reagan, who takes more of a thrashing here than the Trumps, as he's frequently mocked by Paul's liberal, minded parents. This all makes it sound like a political film when the intention is really to point out the uneven playing field Johnny continuously endures.

For certain people to succeed, others are inevitably thrown under the bus, and the best Irving can do for his son is make him acutely aware of it, preparing him for the inevitability that life's more unfair for some than others. There's a moment in the last act where Gray has an easy out, but instead decides to go a step further and write the characters into a corner that forces them and the viewers to confront harsher realities. It's through this that Paul realizes just how fortunate he is and how you sometimes take the lucky break, no matter how bad or wrong it feels. 

At its core, Armageddon Time is a period piece about kids who just want to be kids, despite having little wiggle room to learn, grow or make mistakes. And unfortunately for one, there's no room whatsoever. The hypothesis Gray eventually reaches is something we know, but isn't often expressed through a child's perspective. It's blunt but effective, leaving a lasting impression that sure to receive criticism better reserved for films far less accomplished at handling the tricky material this does. Gray walks a thin line in attempting to draw parallels between his childhood and the world today, but he mostly pulls off, enveloping us in a deeply personal story that suggests far broader implications.