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.