Nyad

Directors: Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin
Starring: Annette Bening, Jodie Foster, Rhys Ifans, Karly Rothenberg, Jeena Yi, Luke Cosgrove, Eric T. Miller, Garland Scott 
Running Time: 120 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

It isn't long into Netflix's sports biopic Nyad when we realize record breaking long-distance swimmer Diana Nyad has that same competitive itch most world class athletes can't seem to scratch, even long after retirement. Many are initially plagued by second thoughts for walking away, realizing later time will always catch up. In that respect, Diana's urge to return at age 64 to finish what she couldn't decades earlier isn't surprising. But the impossibility of her goal is, regardless of age, gender or physical conditioning. She can complete this grueling 110 mile swim from Cuba to Florida because failure isn't an option, even as her stubbornness and oversized ego frustrate those helping make it happen.

The burden Diana carries to be the best is heavy, and as pieces of her troubled past are shown in fleeting glimpses, that desire starts making more sense. Attempting this swim still seems crazy, but we get it, and much of why rests on Annette Bening's performance in the title role, which is defined by her willingness to explore unlikable places with Diana's prickly personality. Bening specializes in steely, determined parts, but the sports psychology angle here really distinguishes it, as does her pairing with fellow acting icon Jodie Foster, who's arguably even better in a welcome, exciting departure.

Shortly after her 60th birthday, former marathon swimmer and ABC "Wide World of Sports" correspondent  Diana Nyad (Bening) shocks longtime best friend Bonnie Stoll (Foster) by announcing plans to begin training for the brutal Cuba-Florida swim she failed to finish in the late 70's. With the assistance of a steel shark cage, she veered off course, eventually taken out of the water after nearly 42 hours. A reluctant Bonnie agrees to coach Diana, but it's soon clear this is as much a battle against nature's uncontrollable elements as it is a test of the latter's drive and limitations. 

Looking to avoid previous pitfalls, Bonnie recruits grizzled navigational expert John Bartlett (Rhys Ifans) and an entire team of divers and scientific experts given the thankless task of providing the defiant Diana guidance she doesn't want or listen to. Unsurprisingly, this isn't a feat she'll be able to accomplish her first try, or maybe any of them, but for her there's no quitting until reaching the Florida shore.

As someone who sucks up all the air in the room, Diana has to humble herself enough to let the people around her actually do their jobs. In that sense, five attempts at this seems about right, even if few athletes would have the endurance to withstand one. Compellingly, the notion is presented that Diana could be more mentally equipped to do this now than in her physical prime due to experience and motivation that only comes with age. Of course, this sounds great until you're in the water and all the damaging effects begin to take hold.

On top of unmanageable tides, volatile weather patterns, sharks and deadly box jellyfish, Diana must contend with physical challenges and hallucinations her famished, dehydrated mind conjures up. With a collection of familiar 60's music comprising the playlist in her head and clad in a custom silicon face mask and suit, she's flanked by numerous boats and a professional medic. The nighttime scenes are most effective, creating a sense of isolating terror despite the fact she's hardly alone out there. It isn't lost on anyone she could die at any moment, her odds only worsening with each subsequent try. During this, flashbacks of a traumatic childhood event are cut in, informing the woman she'd later become.

Dina's penchant for exaggerating her already impressive accomplishments is a flaw Foster's Bonnie pushes back against, calling out the swimmer's self-centeredness and aversion to the truth. Aside from that, Julia Cox's screenplay is mostly reverent in its depiction, as Bening and Foster naturally play off each other, conveying the rhythms of lifelong friends incapable of sugarcoating anything. Whatever Diana dishes out, Bonnie gives right back, with Foster doing great work as a warm but no-nonsense voice of reason. Rhys Ifans also impresses as an exasperated navigator more than willing to put Diana in her place when necessary.     

Uplifting as it is, Nyad isn't a game-changer, but goes down easily under the skilled direction of Oscar-winning Free Solo helmers Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin. But unlike that documentary, this narrative feature about going to extremes will probably play better for those unaware of the end result and ensuing controversy. That the 2013 swim is noticeably absent from the record books is a detail the film doesn't touch for obvious reasons, instead showing real footage of Diana's media appearances over the closing credits. But even as all the attempts at completing this achievement sometimes keeps the action stuck in repetitive mode, it succeeds by emphasizing the failure and tireless work that led her there.                                                  

The Killer

Director: David Fincher
Starring: Michael Fassbender, Tilda Swinton, Charles Parnell, Arliss Howard, Kerry O' Malley, Sophie Charlotte, Emiliano Pernía, Gabriel Polanco, Sala Baker, Endre Hules, Monique Ganderton
Running Time: 118 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

The title character in David Fincher's The Killer prides himself on not being sloppy, or at least that's what he'd have us believe, as this unnamed assassin painstakingly walks through the steps of his job with enough precision and synchronicity to make Dexter look like a clueless hack. Just take his word for it, with a hypnotic voice over narration that not only runs down his static routine, but the skills and life philosophy needed for it. "Stick to the plan." "Don't improvise, anticipate." "Trust no one." "Forbid empathy." 

While those mantras are repeated throughout as we hang on every word, many his actions will eventually contradict them. He has the pre-kill ritual down to a science, eating, practicing yoga, and listening to The Smiths while waiting for his heartbeat to drop under 65 beats per minute before pulling the trigger. There's no room for trepidation or errors, until he actually misses and the fallout causes him to make some unexpected adjustments. Out for the revenge he can't admit to craving while carrying a guilt he's incapable of expressing, it's suddenly personal now.  

The killer (Michael Fassbender) hauls up in any empty office building across the street from a Parisian hotel, preparing to take out his latest target with a sniper rifle. But despite his obsessive preparation, the job goes horribly wrong, causing him to fall out of favor with his handler Hodges (Charles Parnell). Fleeing the country, he arrives back at one of his secret homes in the Dominican Republic to find girlfriend Magdala (Sophie Charlotte) viciously attacked by assassins sent by Hodges to satisfy the client. 

With vengeance in mind, the killer sets his sights on those responsible for ordering and carrying out the attack, targeting Hodges himself, the thuggish "Brute" (Sala Baker) living in Florida, the New York-based "Expert" assassin (Tilda Swinton) and billionaire client Claybourne (Arliss Howard). The question now becomes whether he can remain as calm and coldly proficient in his technique when the stakes are this high.  

Following a quick but transfixing opening title sequence and that meticulous setup, the killer missing his target hits particularly hard given all the precautions taken in avoiding this exact scenario. Wearing his bucket hat and Hawaiian shirt, he informs us his disguise is that of an easily avoidable German tourist, acknowledging the impossibility of going unnoticed in this day and age, aiming instead to be unmemorable. And he is, with everyone too busy, distracted or self absorbed to notice there's a murderer in their midst, providing valuable cover from his increasing carelessness.

Because we're so fully immersed in the killer's procedure, it's only more jarring when the wheels fly off, causing him to step outside a very familiar comfort zone. The assault on his partner is turning point since he could have just disappeared under one of his many fake names (a great running gag), sheltering himself and her from any further fallout, never to be seen or heard from again. Instead, he opts for payback, evolving from someone who despises improvisation into the rashest of improvisers. Either way, it's apparent he's much better at this in his head than reality.

Anything that can go wrong almost does, and multiple times, especially during a spectacular mid-film fight where the target's fate takes a backseat to his probability of survival. It may have been a lie at the beginning, but now the killer truly doesn't care, his recklessness most evident when confronting Tilda Swinton's previously untouchable assassin. Their extended one-sided conversation is the closest he gets to any kind of emotional connection, as it nearly breaks him discovering just how similar they actually are. 

The only quality differentiating him from Swinton's character is her ability to enjoy what appears to be a normal life in plain sight, free from the idiosyncrasies he leans on to do the job. She may have been worse at it this time, but it's not lost on him that their roles could have easily been reversed. And she won't let him forget that, regardless of her fate. None of his targets should really stand a chance since they're loose ends, but the unthinkable notion someone could be spared creeps through the further off course he veers, discovering buried pieces of himself along the way. 

Fassbender drolly delivers the unreliable but endlessly quotable voiceover, while also allowing each little movement, twitch and expression to do all the talking when he's not. An ideal fit for such oddly specific material, he quietly plays this without so much as a shred of humanity, squashing any chances the character will be experiencing any kind of epiphany or redemption.

Clinical to a fault, Fincher's chief interest lies in the process itself, with help from cinematographer Erik Messerschmidt's impressive location shooting, a propulsive, anxiety inducing score from Trent Rezor and Atticus Ross and a Smiths' soundtrack that humorously clashes with what unfolds. There isn't an ounce of excess fat here, with every scene and episodic stretch visually advancing Se7en writer Andrew Kevin Walker's script. Fincher's best in years, it also shares some of the same thematic elements of technical obsession contained in Zodiac and his brilliant but prematurely cancelled Mindhunter Netflix series.

The Killer is about a perfectionist suddenly left twisting in the wind, more desperate than ever to maintain his illusion of control. Skirting the line between genre exercise and art film, every move he makes feels compulsively purposeful, causing many to cite it as the definitive commentary on Fincher's own work. But it's also thoroughly rewatchable, finding the master again in top form, filling each frame with an abundance of details viewers experience entirely through the eyes and mind of an assassin who might be too fastidious for his own good.

Fair Play

Director: Chloe Dumont
Starring: Phoebe Dynevor, Alden Ehrenreich, Eddie Marsan, Rich Sommer, Sebastian de Souza, Sia Alipour, Brandon Bassir, Geraldine Somerville, Patrick Fischler
Running Time: 113 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Chloe Dumont's thought provoking psychological thriller Fair Play starts with one of the more unusual marriage proposal scenes you'll see, largely indicative of the chaos and sexually charged turmoil that follows. It's all downhill for this couple from there as a major job promotion suddenly challenges everything they think and feel about each other. But the most intriguing aspect of Dumont's debut feature is how it suggests anything else could easily have been the trigger. It just so happens to be a seemingly pleasant surprise that unravels their relationship, exposing him for who he is as she struggles to hold herself together.

In a perfect world, fiancés and spouses would be entirely supportive of their partner's accomplishments, chalking it up as a team win. And yet from the moment we meet this entirely relatable couple, it's clear they're built a little differently, though cut from a similar cloth. Both are competitive, highly ambitious financiers working together in a pressure cooker environment where one decision can push you out the door or into a comfy corner office with a raise. Everything revolves around what you've done lately, any misery balanced out by the monetary benefits. She's the better end of the deal, especially as his sanity gradually slips away, culminating in a finale where only one can be left standing. 

Emily Myers (Phoebe Dynevor) and Luke Edmonds (Alden Ehrenreich) are analysts at the high-powered Manhattan hedge fund One Crest Capital and recently engaged, keeping their romantic relationship secret from co-workers. Despite rumors Luke may be replacing a recently fired portfolio manager, Emily is informed by the firm's cutthroat CEO Campbell (Eddie Marsan) that she'll be receiving that promotion instead. 

After initially offering his congratulations, Luke's jealously surfaces, putting a serious strain on their relationship as he continues to obsess over advancing his career, potentially at Emily's expense. Even her attempts to advocate for Luke backfire when it's clear just how little the higher-ups think of him, potentially numbering his days at the firm. Filled with guilt and uncertainty, Emily forges forward as Luke's erratic behavior threatens to destroy their relationship and careers. 

Ehrenreich does a masterful job portraying Luke as completely diminished by Emily's promotion, seemingly overnight made to feel three quarters less of a man than he thought. Never mind that she runs circles around him and everyone else at the firm, he takes it personally, as if her advancement is the ultimate betrayal. It also speaks volumes that his first excuse and allegation is that she must have slept her way to the top or gotten the job due to being a woman. 

Over the course of the film we realize just how little Luke's allegations mean, and not just because her performance is head and shoulders above her co-workers. Because the firm appears to be such an exclusive men's club, it's hard to believe they're just granting women unearned promotions when the financial stakes are this high. And if they wanted to ogle Emily or treat her as their "hooker" as Luke insinuates, it would have been easier to dish out that harassment when she was an analyst. Played by a great Eddie Marsan, the intimidating Campbell is an egomaniac, but he clearly promotes Emily for all the right reasons, revealing Luke's shortcomings and insecurities as the problem. 

This kind of three-dimensional shading of the characters is why Dumont's script works so well, as Luke gaslights Emily with terrible advice, backhanded compliments and even leverages her into helping him while pretending to be insulted by the gesture. Desperately clinging to a self-help guru to improve his standing, he casually tears Emily down, planting doubts in her head about how she looks, acts and dresses. Lingering in the back of our minds is what could happen if he totally snaps, exposing their relationship and blowing up everything she's worked for.

To a degree, Dumont seems to sympathize with Luke's plight while Ehrenreich subtly turns the volume up and down on Luke's behavior at just the right moments, keeping him out of sociopathic territory as long and believably as he can. It's easily the best performance he's ever given, making you wonder if reactions to Disney's Solo would have been the same if he was permitted to give us a little darker, more roguish version of the title character. He was better there than most acknowledged, but this confirms he may have been more stifled than originally believed. 

Even better is English actress Dynevor, who unexpectedly shifts gears when Emily's forced to quickly toughen up and overcome Luke's escalating mind games. It's her journey and that the two have such an intense physical connection further complicates matters, establishing how sex is as important to the equation as office or gender politics. This proves especially true in the controversial last act, prompting us to second guess whatever we assumed was obvious. 

Superior to the trashy, erotic 90's thrillers to which it's being compared, Fair Play is sleek and suspenseful, with Dumont's depiction of the finance world and tight screenplay solidifying it as more than a mere guilty pleasure. And with workplace scenes that invite comparisons to the underappreciated Margin Call, it effectively exposes the types of characters that populate such a setting. What happens isn't beyond the realm of plausibility in toxic relationships, but amped up, making for a gripping, insightful trip into the psyche of someone whose entire identity hinges on power and control.                 

Black Mirror (Season 6)

Creator: Charlie Brooker
Starring: Annie Murphy, Salma Hayek, Michael Cera, Myha’la Herrold, Samuel Blenkin, Daniel Portman, Monica Dolan, John Hannah, Aaron Paul, Josh Hartnett, Kate Mara, Auden Thornton, Rory Culkin, Zazie Beetz, Clara Rugaard, Danny Ramirez, Anjana Vasan, Paapa Essiedu
Original Airdate: 2023

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Once counted among Netflix's earliest successes, Charlie Brooker's technology themed British anthology series Black Mirror hasn't aired since 2019's underwhelming 3-episode fifth season. And that's assuming you'd consider such a small amount of content a season at all. This followed 2018's interactive, "choose your own adventure" feature Bandersnatch, which garnered a mixed response, leaving viewers wondering if the series could recapture its former glory, which peaked with the third season's Emmy-winning "San Junipero."

While that episode (and to a lesser extent, season four's "USS Callister") has justifiably been cited as a series high, let's not kid ourselves into thinking consistency has been its key strength, with length and pacing issues leading to some real stinkers along the way. But now after a production rights battle had even its creator expressing uncertainty about further seasons and what incarnation those could take, it's finally back.

The good news is that this sixth season sees the series retaining much of what originally worked, while still managing to go in wildly clever new directions. Even if five episodes still doesn't feel like enough, there is a cohesiveness to the storytelling that's been lacking for a long time. Discussions and arguments will undoubtedly break out over the subjective rankings of these episodes, but at least that debate has rarely felt this purposeful. 

Less acceptable is the complaint this "isn't Black Mirror" because it supposedly skews too far from its original intentions. In actuality, this change is a relief, as the show often tripped up by shoehorning outrageous plots into its tech-themed premise rather than organically incorporating them. This new batch is given a little more room the breathe, leaning into the sci-fi, horror and dystopian elements that first invoked all those Rod Serling comparisons. And you wonder whether we'd even be hearing those criticisms if word hadn't leaked that Brooker was planning a "Red Mirror" horror anthology that was intended to showcase the season's final entry. 

These five episodes could be viewed as two halves, with a meditative psychological drama sandwiched in the middle. The season starts in slightly familiar territory before moving to darker places that deviate unexpectedly from the show's tangentially shared universe. One of the installments feels like a miscalculation, a couple linger in the mind longer than others, but it all still fits together really well, offering up a little something for everyone.

In the opener, "Joan is Awful," Annie Murphy gives a tour de force comedic turn as tech CEO Joan, who  discovers the very recent events of her life are unfolding on screen for the world to see in a new "Streamberry" series starring Salma Hayek (played by Salma Hayek). This is easily the lightest, most playful episode of the bunch, not to mention the funniest. And nearly all of it can be attributed to Murphy's wacky turn as Joan, a woman overwhelmed by awkwardly firing employees at the board's will before coming home to safe, but boring boyfriend Krish (Avi Nash). 

Between Joan's trips to her therapist and a temptation to cheat with returning ex Mac (Rob Delaney), the revelation that all of this has been adapted into a series causes humiliating embarrassment on a grand scale. Luckily, she has a plan to get the show cancelled that may or may not involve Hayek and a really disgusting public act. What works best is how the story peels back a few more layers than you'd think, capped it all off with a fun final twist that plants it firmly alongside other similarly themed Black Mirror episodes covering technology's trappings. 

Netflix also really skewers itself here, showing a surprising amount of self-awareness, with Brooker's script humorously taking aim at their "terms and conditions" and greedy business model. In tackling the issue of AI and CGI replacing actors and writers, it's one of the timelier episodes, capped off by a memorably uproarious Michael Cera cameo.   

The second episode, "Loch Henry," finds film student couple Davis (Samuel Blenkin) and Pia (Myha’la Herrold) traveling to his quaint Scottish hometown to visit his widowed mother Janet (Monica Dolan) and shoot footage for their documentary on a local conservationist. But during a stop at the bar owned by Davis's childhood friend, Stuart (Daniel Portman), a far more sordid subject piques Pia's interest

Daniel tells Pia the story of local murderer Iain Adair, who was responsible for the torture and deaths of numerous tourists in the '90's, resulting in the shooting of Davis's late policeman father Kenneth (Gregor Firth) and the town's decades-long decline. Despite Davis's obvious discomfort, Pia convinces him to focus their film on this, doing the research and even visiting the scene for additional footage. But since crime documentaries are a dime a dozen, they'll need a hook for it to stand out from the pack, And boy do they ever get one. 

When this starts you're unsure what the goal is, at least until Pia convinces Davis to shift course and an incredible musical montage featuring Melanie's "People in the Front Row" signifies they're off to the races. Blenkin and Herrold build on their natural chemistry, while a subtle Dolan convinces as a mother willingly participating to keep her husband's memory alive. 

Of all the episodes, this contains the biggest twist. And for every viewer saying they saw it coming will be others totally taken aback. What really matters is whether it lands, as this unquestionably does, with Brooker turning his retro VHS camcorder on Netflix's taste for true crime exploitation and the viewers' willingness to join in for entertainment's sake. 

"Beyond The Sea," takes place in an alternate 1969, with astronauts Cliff (Aaron Paul) and David (Josh Hartnett) aboard a ship on a six-year space mission. In between medical physicals and repairs, their consciousnesses are transferred to artificial replicas of themselves on Earth, enabling both to spend time with their respective families.. 

While the emotionally distant Cliff lives quietly off the grid in an idyllic rural farm house with wife Lana (Kate Mara) and their son, David settles in California, making him a more recognizable celebrity. But when tragedy strikes and replicant David and his family are targeted by a violent, Manson-like hippie cult, Lana suggests Cliff lend distraught, depressed David his replica so he can unwind back at their home. As David's trips become more frequent, he becomes unhealthily attached to a life that isn't his. 

Going on cast and premise alone, this seemed a likely frontrunner for the season's best going in. And even while that designation is arguable, few could claim it disappoints. Running a robust 80 minutes, it's the longest episode, but a meditative slow burn that perfectly suits the material's melancholic tone. There's a mesmerizing, contemplative quality to how it all unfolds, thanks largely to John Crowley's steady direction and the impressive production design that goes into creating both the shuttle and Earth-bound 60's settings. It's 2001: A Space Odyssey meets Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, as its story wrestles with some heady sci-fi themes that are only bolstered by three terrific central performances.

Paul and Hartnett are devastating in their roles, with the former pulling off the tricky job of playing both Cliff and David, going home first as Cliff before sporadically returning as David occupying Cliff's body. It's sort of a Face/Off-like scenario with Paul never leaving doubt as to which character he's inhabiting, completely adjusting his mannerisms, speech and physicality to match each. And Mara doesn't have it easy either, having to react differently to both while struggling with Lana's guilt in finding David more attentive and engaged than her actual husband. 

After seemingly years away, Hartnett returns in a major role and is also apparently now five times the actor he was, capturing the loneliness, anger and jealousy of a man who's lost everything. Believing Cliff doesn't appreciate what he has, David walks up to the edge of madness before crossing that line into the unthinkable, perhaps damning both of them to share in their own separate hell together. You may generally know where Brooker's headed from the start, but this Twilight Zone-inspired morality play will benefit from repeated viewings, satisfying the most cynical series purists with its brutal ending.

In "Mazey Day," increasingly disillusioned celebrity photographer Bo (Zazie Beetz) gets a tip that missing actress Mazey Day (Clara Rugaard) may be hiding out nearby following a hit-and-run overseas. Despite recently quitting the paparazzi game, she knows photos of the starlet could command a lot of cash. Looking to dig herself out of a financial hole, she follows some leads to locate Mazey, with disastrous consequences. 

The season's shortest episode is also its most underwhelming by a large margin, testing the theory that less is necessarily more with Black Mirror. From a technical standpoint, it's fine, but despite the next entry demonstrating how the show can successfully dip into unchartered territory, there just isn't a lot of purpose behind this, regardless of genre.   

Brooker setting the action in 2006 is smart since the very idea of a celebrity "disappearing" in the current age of social media is close to impossible, especially following a vehicular assault. The paparazzi was also at their most venomous during this era so that helps in setting the stage for what could have been a promising look at media obsession. Unfortunately, this takes a lesser route that isn't poorly executed, but just very run-of-the-mill. 

After making that hard narrative pivot, the intrigue comes to a sudden halt, leaving us with an entertaining diversion in search of something larger to say. Beetz makes an effective lead but can't overcome the deflation of that sudden detour, which leaves a potentially better story on the table in favor of shocks and gore.

A beautifully bleak opening set to Art Garfunkel's "Bright Eyes," begins the final episode, "Demon 79," which takes place in a small English town of Tipley, circa 1979. It follows meek, mild mannered department store associate Nida (Anjana Vasan) into work where she puts up with a prejudiced co-worker (Katherine Rose Morley) and boss (Nick Holder). Despite fleeting daydreams of enacting violent revenge, she remains composed and polite, quietly suffering as further anti-immigrant rhetoric is spewed outside the door by campaigning conservative politician Michael Smart (David Shields). 

When Nida takes home a mysterious wooden talisman from the store's basement, she inadvertently  unleashes an aspiring demon named Gaap (Paapa Essiedu), who appears in the human form of Boney M. band member Bobby Farrell. Told she has to make three human sacrifices before May Day or the world will end, she's suddenly faced with some monumental choices as the clock winds down. While definitely not a murderer, the skeptical Nida will need Gaap's help to learn quickly, assuming the fate of the world does really lay in her hands.

This joins "Beyond The Sea" as the best directed episodes of the season, as Vasan's heartbreaking turn proves to be the real draw here, with the actress nothing short of extraordinary in depicting the emotional stages this shy woman goes through, even before this supernatural entity appears. While its premise draws heavy parallels to the recent Knock at the Cabin, a better thematic comparison might be the classic Twilight Zone episode, "The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street," at least in terms of its examination of "otherness" and xenophobia. 

Gaap believes Nida's been chosen because she's a good person, but also an easily corruptible one. And you see that aspect peeking through every corner of Vasan's performance, which has her character torn between doing what's dutifully expected and finally taking a stand. The comedic banter between Vasan and Essiedu keeps everything rolling, but her fear and anger is palpable when it starts seeping through to the surface.

It's one thing to talk about preemptively doing the world a favor by killing someone like Hitler, but not as easy to actually go through with when you're the person swinging that hammer. While the possibility of Nida being mentally ill hangs over this story like a specter, Brooker and co-writer Bisha K. Ali realize what such a decision would mean, ultimately staying true to their original conceit without undermining it. Divisive as this episode is, it's ironic that an homage to 70's British horror devoid of modern technology further illuminates how challenging perceptions has always been the series' biggest strength.   

You (Season 4)

Creator: Greg Berlanti and Sera Gamble
Starring: Penn Badgley, Tati Gabrielle, Charlotte Ritchie, Tilly Keeper, Amy-Leigh Hickman, Ed Speleers, Lukas Gage, Stephen Hagan, Adam James, Aidan Cheng, Niccy Lin, Eve Austin, Ben Wiggins, Greg Kinnear, Victoria Pedretti, Elizabeth Lail
Original Airdate: 2023

**The Following Review Contains Plot Spoilers For The Fourth Season Of 'You' **

★★½ (out of ★★★★)

After a hugely successful run following its move to Netflix in 2019, the psychological drama You finally breaks the streak, with a messy and confounding fourth season. But it's not as if leaps in logic haven't always accompanied the show's premise of an outwardly charming but obsessively sociopathic serial killer who moves from woman to woman as he attempts to curb his violent impulses. Ridiculous developments often caused former bookstore manager Joe Goldberg to evade capture and even death, with the writers (and Penn Badgley's instinctually creepy performance) often doing an unusually decent job covering his tracks. 

As crazy as these scenarios got, there was this sense the show remained somewhat bound to the rules created for its own universe. And even on the occasions those were violated, a pretty good reason accompanied it and they'd get a pass. This marks the first time believability flies off the rails, and while it doesn't spell doom for a series that could still easily recover in the final season, it's definitely indicative that wrapping things up soon may not be such a bad idea. 

Broken into two parts, the entire season hinges on a big plot twist that has to be discussed since all ten episodes hinge on it, which could be part of the problem. That this revelation comes so late doesn't help, giving viewers little time to process the fallout before being blindsided by another turn or two. After a while you just start rolling your eyes at certain plot holes that detract from the occasionally gripping second batch of episodes. But the first half is the bigger problem, introducing us to a multitude of unlikable, headache-inducing characters before knocking most of the them off.

Even what's arguably the series' most inventive creation in Joe's "glass box" strains credibility this time, with viewers more likely than ever to be distracted by lingering questions of its transport and construction. Still, it results in the most thrilling episode, despite its somewhat convoluted follow-up. Thankfully, the series isn't running on fumes yet, at least attempting to put the pieces into place for a stronger closing chapter.

After killing wife Love (Victoria Pedretti) and setting a fire to fake his death, Joe (Badgley) is approached by a fixer working for her father who offers him a new identity, provided he ties up loose ends by murdering his ex, librarian and single mom Marianne (Tati Gabrielle). But after tracking her down in London, he can't go through with it, instead letting her escape before starting anew as university English professor "Jonathan Moore." 

It isn't long before Joe's sucked into a group of spoiled rich aristocrats consisting of hard partying department colleague Malcolm Harding (Stephen Hagan), his ice cold girlfriend Kate Galvin (Charlotte Ritchie), ditzy but well intentioned socialite Lady Phoebe (Tilly Keeper) and her arrogant playboy love interest Adam Pratt (Lukas Gage). Rounding out the pack are artist and influencer siblings Simon (Aidan Cheng) and Sophie (Niccy Lin) Soo, loud, abrasive socialite Gemma Graham-Greene (Eve Austin), Kate's dour childhood friend Roald Walker-Burton (Ben Wiggins) and rags-to-riches author and aspiring politician Rhys Montrose (Ed Speleers). 

When Malcolm and others turn up dead, Joe begins receiving anonymous texts from the murderer threatening to expose him as this "Eat The Rich" Killer. With his secret life and true identity suddenly hanging in the balance, he relies on advice from star student sleuth Nadia (Amy-Leigh Hickman), to determine who the blackmailing mastermind is. Matters are further complicated as he falls hard for the standoffish Kate, potentially endangering them both. But like Joe, she has a painful history of her own.

From the start, there's just something missing this season, which could partially stem from Joe now being the hunted, or so it seems. That and barely escaping a previous season where he was married to someone just as dangerous appears to have maybe tamed him a bit. But if entering these episodes with a lower body count and new identity temporarily lulls you into considering Joe's turned over a new leaf on his fourth try, think again.

It isn't immediately apparent Kate will become Joe's latest obsessions, much like Beck, Love and Marienne before her. Of all the twists and turns this season, how their relationship plays out might actually be the most shocking given its uneventful beginning. Because the cast is so large and overstuffed, Kate almost initially fades into the background, but that doesn't last long since Joe needs someone to fulfill his twisted proclivities as the bodies start piling up.  

Kate's at least radically different from the rest, coldly and sarcastically pushing back in ways he doesn't expect. While her aloofness practically guarantees she won't extract the same emotional response from viewers as his preceding victims/girlfriends, Charlotte Ritchie really commits to the role, peeling back layers to reveal a past and present that more than explains Joe's fascination with her. And as we already know, it's not a good sign when he's fascinated with anyone.

While the idea of dropping Joe into this new London setting as a professor probably looked great on paper and promised a dynamic scenario, some of these early episodes become a chore to sit through due to some obnoxious supporting characters. That's especially true of Adam, and to a lesser extent, his British Paris Hilton-like girlfriend Lady Phoebe, who Tilly Keeper does manage to inject with some wounded humanity. 

The fact that so many of these people are cut from the same cloth starts to wear on you, especially since it's obvious most won't be surviving. And seeing Joe on the defense rather than the primary instigator of destruction isn't something we're used to. In a reversal, he's supposed to feel what it's like to be stalked and tormented.   

A more platonic target of Joe's obsessions is author and politician Rhys Montrose who, aside from Kate, proves to be the only wealthy aristocrat whose company he can stand. Devouring his book and advice, Joe digs into his socio-political philosophies, but it's only when Rhys reveals himself as someone far more important than Joe suspected that the season's off and running, nearly five episodes in. Despite being led to believe Rhys is the killer framing him, he's actually Joe's own Tyler Durden and a psychological manifestation of his worst impulses. 

Once again Joe's responsible for all the murder and chaos, with this Rhys alter ego representing some kind of psychotic break. While it reframes everything we've seen, the reveal does feel kind of empty, taking an entire season to return Joe to where he should have started at. And since this specific gotcha device has become such a storytelling crutch of late, you can't really blame anyone for viewing it as a cheat, especially looking back on the totality of events that unfolded. 

What ends up selling any of this is Badgley's performance, with Joe awakening from his fugue state to realize he's as demented as ever. Reaching new levels of madness and depravity by compartmentalizing his actions with another personality, the realization sets in that he's still holding Marienne...somewhere. Episode 8 (""Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?") is easily the most accomplished of the season, harkening back to what originally made the series so suspenseful. Kidnapped and drugged, she struggles to survive inside Joe's glass prison, even as he has no memory of exactly where that is.

Only reinforcing how much Tati Gabrielle's presence is missed from the rest of the season, her portrayal of Marienne's anger and desperation distracts from the logic holes of a scrambling Joe contending with Kate's meglomaniacal businessman father Tom Lockwood (Greg Kinnear) and an increasingly suspicious Nadia. The logistics of the glass box notwithstanding, this is probably the most amount of time the show's spent with someone inside of it. And is Marienne ever battling, with Joe taking advantage of her history as an addict and the very real possibility she may never see her daughter again. It's a match of wills as she nears the end of her rope, before having to put all trust in someone else. 

There's a moment toward the season's close where one phone call to police would end everything and the only reason it doesn't happen is so this predicament can continue. It's the kind of obvious misstep the show never used to make, or at least took proactive measures to ensure wouldn't occur. This choice leads to an even more complicated plan and diminishing sympathies for a supposedly heroic character who just doesn't know when to say when, still trying to expose a proven serial killer after accomplishing what's necessary. Of course, we're fully aware the writers are using every possible tool to extend this, regardless of how much sense it makes. The irony is that Joe still ends up exactly where he should at season's end, as sloppy as it was. 

With Joe preparing to start over with Kate by his side, the writers were smart enough not to tie up the many loose ends, as more than a few characters remain who could still fully expose his crimes. While Elizabeth Lail and Victoria Pedretti's deceased characters both briefly cameo in a Joe dream sequence, the writers may have accidentally struck gold when they opted to have Joe send Jenna Ortega's Ellie away unharmed at the end of the Season 2 with that bag of cash and more than enough motive to return.

If ever there was a time to bring out the big guns it's in the last season, as you could see anyone suddenly reappearing to upend Joe's new life, delivering the final fitting blow this character and the series deserves. Whether the writers can successfully pull that off after such a hit-or-miss season is the bigger question. Either way, there are still plenty of options left on the table to give fans hope that even after this shaky showing, You is still capable of going out on top.                                                                          

White Noise

Director: Noah Baumbach
Starring: Adam Driver, Greta Gerwig, Don Cheadle, Raffey Cassidy, Sam Nivola, May Nivola, Jodie Turner-Smith, André Benjamin, Sam Gold, Lars Eidinger, Barbara Sukowa, Francis Jue, Gideon Glick, Chloe Fineman, Kenneth Lonergan
Running Time: 136 min.
Rating: R

**The Following Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers For 'White Noise'**

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

When certain novels are deemed "unadaptable" it's often due to the widespread fear it'll inevitably fail for not being the book. In other words, any filmmaker who knows what's good for them should just stay away. That feeling has long circled Don DeLillo's postmodern classic, White Noise. For decades, no filmmaker has dared to take on this existential apocalyptic satire set in a small college town in the mid 80's shaken by an air contamination disaster, and it's easy to see why. But now Noah Baumbach gives it a shot, resulting in what's easily the most ambitious, polarizing entry in his filmography, which isn't a surprise considering the monster he's attempting to wrangle.

Since the story's core crisis serves as the ultimate metaphor for pandemic times, you'd assume that's what finally brought this to the screen after thirty years of false starts. Of course, that the crisis taking place here lacks the same worldwide reach and impact is almost beside the point. In capturing the novel's essence and sense of impending doom, Baumbach is less interested in exploring the event itself than the true ramifications for those directly affected by it. You can feel that tension building before it occurs, often in darkly humorous ways that were prescient when the book was published, but seem even more alarmingly on target now. 

Tackling and spoofing consumerism, misinformation, higher education, religion and healthcare, it's both humorously touching and deadly serious. Much of it rests on Adam Driver's lead performance, which defies description and surpasses anything he's previously done on screen. It's also the best looking film Baumbach's directed, with cinematography and production values uncommon for Netflix's features, most of which tend to all look and sound the same. And after immersing viewers in its eccentric world for the entirety of its running length, it closes with a brilliantly out-of-left field musical number that reaches unmatched creative heights in its final thrilling minutes.

It's 1984 and Jack Gladney (Driver) is a professor of "Hitler Studies" at the College-on-the-Hill in Ohio. Together with his fourth wife, Babette (Greta Gerwig), they share four children; Heinrich (Sam Nivola), Steffie (May Nivola), and Denise (Raffey Cassidy) and their youngest, Wilder (Henry and Dean Moore). As Jack secretly taking German lessons to prepare for an upcoming conference, he's approached by a concerned Denise about Babette's increasingly bizarre behavior and memory issues. The discovery of her mom's mysterious pill bottle for an unlisted drug called Dylar only causes additional worry. 

When a nearby train accident spreads a giant cloud of chemical waste over town, causing an "Airborne Toxic Event," Jack scrambles to keep his family safe during a mass evacuation. As he and Babette are now forced to confront their mutual fear of death head-on, the disaster leaves a lingering impact on her already deteriorating mental and emotional state. Suddenly faced with the prospect of his own worsening health, Jack's becomes determined to get to the bottom of his wife's drug dependency, regardless of the dark road it takes them down. 

An opening scene where Jack's colleague, Professor Murray Siskind (Don Cheadle) gives a lecture on cinematic car crashes (complete with a highlight reel of famous film collisions) sets the tone early. He's clearly enamored by all the work and innovation that went into staging these, optimistically seeing beauty in destruction. Conversely, Jack's more entranced watching neighborhood cars orderly line the streets at the start of the college semester, babbling on about it to Babette. It's predictable comfort for him before their lives are upended, interrupting the daily routine he's established to distract himself from the inevitable. And yet for a man so terrified of dying, he sure goes out of his way to surround himself with it, even while clarifying he's not interested in talking about the one thing he's constantly talking about. It's not a coincidence he describes Hitler as "larger than death," giving us a major inkling as to why he felt compelled to create this field of study in which he's the leading expert. 

Before the incident occurs, death's specter hovers over everyone despite the routines they engage in to tune out those fears. The local A&P supermarket is established as the town's communal safety net, a brightly colored temple where they can preserve a seemingly idyllic existence, free from contemplating their own mortality. But a distraction is all it is, or a rather a postponement, until the illusion of their ordinarily comfortable lives is turned upside down by the toxic spill. Initially, Jack brushes off the danger, mostly because it represents his worst nightmare and what he's jumped through hoops to avoid acknowledging. The fear is most evident in Jack and Babette's weirdly unsettling conversation about which of them should die first

The Gladneys fleeing the hovering cloud of toxins while attempting to avoid exposure eventually leads to a car chase and quarantine, luring us into thinking this will be a sci-fi thriller. But it's just a red herring, as they soon discover no one really knows what's happening or will, the truth buried under mountains of medical misinformation and bureaucratic incompetence. The immanent danger ends as quickly as it began, leaving in its aftermath a couple who must now learn to somehow function again after staring death in the face. 

Jack's own potential exposure becomes a ticking time bomb that psychologically cripples him, as does his obsession in uncovering the source of Babette's Dylar. Once he knows, things gets even worse, as they're set on a surrealistic path involving this shadowy organization and a wacky, off-the-wall drug supplier named "Mr. Gray" (Lars Eidinger), culminating in a bizarre but strangely life-affirming visit with German atheist nuns. Besides Baumbach's ability to seamlessly switch tones at the film's midway point, it's really Driver's enigmatic performance that helps make all of this so compelling to watch. 

Nearly unrecognizable with a middle-aged paunch and disheveled appearance, Driver conveys a myriad of dimensions to a secretly troubled man whose entire life revolves around his denial of reality. How Driver emphasizes certain words, uses hand gestures or even moves around a room is fascinating, as he takes full command of every scene with a strange, unhinged charisma. He's also perfected a droll, dry line delivery that functions as the ideal vessel for the darkly satiric worldview the source material requires.

Driver's best moment comes opposite Cheadle's Murray, who's attempting to replicate the niche success of Jack's Hitler course, but with Elvis as his subject. As the two professors circle each other, trading historical commonalities about their famous figures' childhoods, the camera swoops around the lecture room following them, creating this uncomfortable atmospheric tension we can read on the transfixed faces of their audience. When Jack completely takes over like a mad preacher, Baumbach cuts between these prophetic rantings and the train disaster, resulting in what's easily the most impressive directorial work of his career. At least until the film's euphoric ending.

As Babette, Greta Gerwig comfortably slides right back into a big co-starring role on the heels of her successful directorial run. Sporting a fantastically frizzy mane of 80's hair noteworthy enough for even the characters to discuss, she brings a benevolent quirkiness to this optimistic free spirit slowly crippling under the weight of festering depression and anxiety. There's an offbeat sincerity to Gerwig that definitely suits Babette, who's racked with guilt, straining to maintain a happy facade as she sinks deeper into her own hole.

In addition to Cheadle's fairly prominent and effective supporting turn as Murray, Jodie Turner-Smith plays reserved brainiac Winnie Richards, the college's neurochemist who helps Jack in his quest to uncover the origins of Dylar. André Benjamin also has a small role as Elliot Lasher, another colleague at the school. Neither are given much, at least until you arrive at the spectacular musical finale, which you'd have a tough time envisioning without them prominently featured. In a monster adaptation like this, there almost isn't room for sub-plots so everyone surrounding the Gladneys are primarily present to reflect the mindset of the town before and after this catastrophe hits. And given the story's enormous scope, that's understandable. 

Whatever Netflix spent on this was worth every penny, as production designer Jess Gonchor and cinematographer Lol Crawley not only replicate the look, tone, and feel of the period, but movies made during it, to the point you'd think this was actually shot in the mid 80's. Danny Elfman's synthesized throwback score fits right in, only enhancing that aesthetic. Even the smallest set and costume details  astound, but it's the transfixing A&P supermarket dance scene (choreographed by David Neumann) set to LCD Soundsystem's "New Body Rhumba" that gives the film its triumphant send-off, with customers dancing in unison down brightly colored aisles adorned with pyramids of meticulously organized retro labels and boxes. 

For the Gladneys, this shopping trip allows them to bask in the mundanity of everyday life that Babette previously said she wished could last forever. We know it can't and won't, but the irony that they're still out there buying stuff to numb the pain and lose themselves isn't lost. It begins where it ends. Same as it ever was. And Baumbach keeps our eyes glued to the supermarket sequence all the way through, utilizing a visual style and aesthetic that recalls Wes Anderson, but with more narrative and thematic purpose. 

To say White Noise isn't for everyone is an understatement, and that's the thing with bringing challenging literary material like this to the screen. No matter how much critics and audiences initially revile it, the results are rarely forgettable. A robust 136 minutes probably isn't even be enough to delve into all the novel's ideas, but Baumbach still cracks its seemingly impenetrable layers to deliver a thought provoking meditation on the human condition. It's everything an adaptation should be, lingering in your mind long after the final credits roll, perpetually ready for another go-around. 

Cobra Kai (Season 5)

Creators: Josh Heald, Jon Hurwitz and Hayden Schlossberg
Starring: Ralph Macchio, William Zabka, Courtney Henggeler, Xolo Maridueña, Tanner Buchanan, Mary Mouser, Jacob Bertrand, Peyton List, Dallas Dupree Young, Vanessa Rubio, Thomas Ian Griffith, Martin Kove, Yuji Okumoto, Alicia Hannah-Kim, Oona O'Brien, Joe Seo, Griffin Santopietro, Paul Walter Hauser, Sean Kanan, Robyn Lively, Luis Roberto Guzmán
Original Airdate: 2022 

**The Following Review Contains Plot Spoilers For The Fifth Season Of Cobra Kai **

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Having now wrapped its fifth season, Netflix's Cobra Kai still shows absolutely no signs of slowing down. While it's already common knowledge just how good this Karate Kid continuation is, showrunners Josh Heald, Jon Hurwitz and Hayden Schlossberg are constantly readjusting and evolving the story to keep it fresh. So even if the series already has an established creative voice and tone we're accustomed to, they're still finding new ways to continually top themselves. This latest batch of episodes are no exception, as the writers turn obstacles into opportunity, navigating their way around potential issues many assumed could become major pitfalls the longer this went. Inevitably facing some criticism from diehards insisting it's veered too far into comedy or devolved into a typical "teen show," they've wisely stayed the course, delivering the same high quality entertainment.  

Whereas last season seemed to take the characters in different directions that came together in a really clever cliffhanger, these episodes have a more singular focus that serves the storytelling and performances equally well. Nearly everything revolves around the sinister, looming presence of the show's main antagonist and he doesn't disappoint, taking center stage like a scheming Bond villain with his evil expansion plan. It isn't an easy line to walk, but a big part of the show's success has been taking itself just seriously enough, while still retaining a playful tongue-in-cheek tone. And now they've done it again, delivering a new batch of episodes capped with a bold exclamation point that leaves us wondering what's next.

Terry Silver (Thomas Ian Griffith) is flying high after Cobra Kai's tainted tournament victory at the end of last season vanquished Daniel LaRusso's (Ralph Macchio) Miyagi-Do from the Valley, And after framing John Kreese (Martin Kove) for his own drunken beatdown of Stingray (Paul Walter Hauser), Silver's grabbed full control of Cobra Kai, aggressively attempting to expand the franchise while his old Vietnam buddy rots in jail. But Daniel's not quite out of the picture yet, enlisting former Okinawa rival Chozen Toguchi (Yuji Okumoto) to help take Silver down for good. Meanwhile Johnny's (William Zabka) traveling with son Robby (Tanner Buchanan) to retrieve Miguel (Xolo Maridueña), who fled the tournament for Mexico in search of his biological father. 

With Robby contemplating the negative influence Cobra Kai's having on his former protege, Kenny (Dallas Dupree Young), reigning women's champion Tory (Peyton List) is still wracked with guilt over witnessing Silver pay off the tournament ref following her finals win over Sam LaRusso (Mary Mouser). As Silver's strategy to eat up the competition and take the dojo national picks up steam, he recruits a skilled group of South Korean senseis led by the ruthless Kim Da-Eun (Alicia Hannah-Kim), whose grandfather's teachings espoused a cutthroat "no honor, no mercy" philosophy. Now with a cutting edge, state of the art training facility and enough capital to take Cobra Kai's vicious methodology global, a rattled Daniel will need to call on some connections of his own to cut off the head of the snake.

Silver's sole control over Cobra Kai ups the stakes for the entire season, especially given who he eliminated from the equation to attain it. While last season's power struggle with Kreese ended in Silver having him wrongly incarcerated, it was rash to assume the betrayed sensei could ever be "softened" by jail or even want to help Daniel and Johnny if he's released.

Kreese is still the devil we know, and as these episodes dive deeper into exploring the reasons why, Silver is still far worse, driven exclusively by his insatiable appetite for money, power and greed. The season's heavily anchored by Thomas Ian Griffith's performance, with the actor again given an opportunity to shift gears and play the maniacal Silver more cerebrally than he did in The Karate Kid Part III. 

While Griffith was by far the best thing in the franchise's underwhelming second sequel, he's now bolstered by a better character arc and story, allowing him to further build on the added dimensions he brought to the role last season. A master of mind games, the wealthy business mogul completely throws Daniel off his game, slithering into every facet of his life, jeopardizing the LaRussos standing in the community and even causing cracks in he and Amanda's (Courtney Henggeler) marriage. It even gets so bad between them that she has to retreat back home to Ohio to seek advice from her cousin, and another familiar returning face, Jessica Andrews (Robyn Lively). Most of this rift is due to Daniel being unable to just sit back and watch this twisted sensei psychologically torment a whole new generation of karate students. 

To thwart Silver, Daniel not only enlists the help of Chozen, but tracks down former nemesis and Silver pupil, Mike Barnes (Sean Kanan), the latest legacy character to be creatively resuscitated by the series. Fans will be surprised to see what he's been up to, his reaction to Daniel and how he really feels about both now in middle age. The part isn't huge, but Kanan's effective in it, and par the course for most of these returns, his presence fits into the story's larger context. 

Chozen emerges as a major player after his memorable min-arc in the third season, now living with Daniel and Amanda while attempting gain Silver's trust and infiltrate the dojo. Some purists may complain the character's being reduced to a foil or sidekick, but with his timing, facial expressions and deadpan delivery, Okumoto's such a natural in the role that it's hard to see this as anything but a positive. It's also easy to forget these are Chozen's first interactions with both Silver and Johnny, opening up all sorts of possibilities that the writers take full advantage of, especially when it comes the combustible dynamic between Chozen and Silver. 

It's become a series-long joke that whenever Johnny googles something, hilarity ensues from his inability to move past the 1980's and socially adapt to modern day norms. Since Zabka is such a riot doing this, it never seems to get old, but the ongoing struggle from the series' inception has always revolved around Johnny's potential growth, or more specifically, how much and at what pace. It's a balancing act since you don't want to strip away what's made him who he is, especially considering how that's driven so much of the show's success. 

Making Johnny less of a jerk is one thing, but you don't want a sappy, overnight change that takes away all his bite. It's a credit to the writing and Zabka's performance that it took five seasons for us to revisit this conversation, indicating just how careful they've been about this. Now the trigger's been pulled, with him not only reconciling with Robby, but even taking Daniel's advice to get him and Miguel to bury the hatchet. And after Miguel's encounter with his slimy, criminally connected birth father, Hector (Luis Roberto Guzmán) in Mexico ends in disaster, you could argue that it just reinforces for all three what a real family actually is.

Johnny's relationship with Miguel's mom, Carmen (Vanessa Rubio) is still probably the flimsiest, most overly convenient subplot of the series, but the best news is that they've somehow managed to make him an expectant father without heavily sacrificing the character's rougher edges. His attempts to find new employment and personally recalibrate in the wake of this shocking news comically shifts Johnny's focus in a direction it hasn't gone since the series started. 

Maybe for the first time since the original films, Johnny takes a backseat to Daniel, if only because his beef with Silver doesn't run as deeply personal. It's undeniably Daniel's battle, but that doesn't mean he won't still need help fighting it. This is an improvement over last season when Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang attempted to co-exist in the midst of Daniel and Johnny's predictable bickering. Having them go in different directions for most of these episodes before eventually joining forces again was probably a smart move.                     

Tory's allegiances are torn being forced to carry a secret that could destroy Silver's plan to have Cobra Kai take over the karate world through their potential participation in the famed international Sekai Taikai tournament. She could really be considered the show's true protagonist, as the guilt of knowing how he bought the win eats her alive, eliminating whatever satisfaction she could have gotten from defeating Sam to win that trophy. 

As Cobra's Kai's fastest rising star, Tory faces a choice. Much like karate came between Sam and Miguel, staying on this dark path would further decimate Tory's already shaky relationship with Robby, who already saw the light. The long troubled Tory is wrestling her own conscience and Peyton List knocks this out of park, subtly conveying the self-loathing and indignation Tory faces each time she steps inside that dojo. 

One of the most affecting aspects of Tory's arc is how she takes ex-Eagle Fang up-and-comer, Devon Lee (Oona O'Brien) under her wing like a sister, seemingly not wanting to see this girl go down a similar road. After briefly impressing as a new addition last season, O'Brien shines in a much larger role, with Devon contemplating if she still wants to be a Cobra in spite of the morally duplicitous qualities senseis Silver and Kim are promoting.

Miyagi-Do doesn't yet know how badly they need Tory on their side, but Daniel definitely needs Stingray, who's also battling his guilt over the Silver's payout to frame Kreese. Now driving Johnny's Dodge Challenger as a full fledged, card-carrying member of Cobra Kai, he's gotten everything he wants, provided he keeps his mouth shut. 

With Silver delivering on his word and welcoming Stingray back with open arms, there's little incentive for him to squeal, especially considering the potentially dangerous consequences if he does. But as badly as Daniel, Johnny and Chozen want him to flip, their biggest asset in destroying Silver is currently behind bars. 

Early signs point to a potentially rehabilitated Kreese being in a reflective, contemplative state of mind, attempting to stay out of trouble in hopes of an earning parole. And this prison stint gives the writers another chance to delve even further into the character's turbulent past and possible motivations. Kove plays it cool much of the way through, as we eagerly anticipate the moment Kreese decides to have his way with the fellow inmates. 

Kreese also has a great scene with the prison counselor where he emotionally cracks coming face-to-face with the ghosts of his past (including a digitally de-aged Johnny). But like everything involving him, you never stop wondering whether he's playing an angle. In the season's final minutes we discover he most definitely is. Part Halloween, part The Silence of the Lambs, his latest con job will probably earn a few laughs for its audacity, but that's Kreese in a nutshell, so it's perfect. Of course, if he held off a little longer he'd have been released instead of a fugitive, but timing wasn't always his strong suit.

The explosive, twist-laden finale ranks amongst the series' strongest, with Silver struggling to maintain a stranglehold over Cobra Kai as all his criminal deeds and dirty laundry float to the surface. Another action-packed, season-ending showdown takes place between Cobra Kai and Miyagi-Do that seriously tests allegiances and loyalty, but it's Silver and Chozen's one-on-one encounter that leaves the more lasting impression after slowly simmering throughout the ten episodes. Johnny also takes the worst beating he's ever gotten on way toward Daniel finally settling his score with Silver in a very public forum, with Cobra Kai's future on the line.

If there's a criticism you could level against this season (albeit an extremely minor one) it's that the bench of characters is so deep it starts becoming impossible for all of them to get a focus, forcing the writers to pick their spots. They've done it well, but it's hard not to notice the somewhat reduced role of All-Valley champ, Hawk (Jacob Bertrand), which may be less a reflection of his importance than the necessary drawback of being part of such a huge ensemble. And aside from a couple of brief scenes of him enduring Kenny's bullying, you may forget Anthony LaRusso's (Griffin Santopietro) even there, while wondering if he's interested in karate at all. 

The show's always excelled at depicting the characters' constantly evolving interpersonal relationships, so it's likely all of these aforementioned moves are purposeful and temporary, with the writers prioritizing which stories to put the heat on at any given moment. If the challenge comes in integrating the stories of the original legacy characters with compelling newer ones, that's where Cobra Kai finds the key to attracting viewers of all ages to a franchise over three decades old.

There's definitely a formula at play here, but it works, proving the series to be far more than just a nostalgic one-trick pony. The returns, reversals and surprises just keep coming, with the show constantly managing to reset itself on an episode-to-episode basis. And it all always comes back to the two middle-aged men who still can't let go of the 1984 All-Valley Karate Tournament final, passing their complicated high school legacies on to the kids, both for better and worse. Daniel and Johnny may be fighting on the same side now, but it hasn't dulled the series one bit.                 

Stranger Things: Season 4 (Volume Two)

Creators: The Duffer Brothers
Starring: Winona Ryder, David Harbour, Millie Bobby Brown, Finn Wolfhard, Gaten Matarazzo, Caleb McLaughlin, Noah Schnapp, Sadie Sink, Natalia Dyer, Charlie Heaton, Joe Keery, Maya Hawke, Brett Gelman, Priah Ferguson, Matthew Modine, Paul Reiser, Jamie Campbell Bower, Joseph Quinn, Eduardo Franco, Mason Dye, Thomas Wlaschiha, Nikola Ðuričko, Sherman Augustus
Original Airdate: 2022

**The following review contains major 'Stranger Things' spoilers for all of Season 4 **

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Whatever your opinion of Stranger Things' two-part supersized fourth season, there's no denying its been the series' most ambitious yet, and for good reason. Wrapping up with two extended episodes and a finale that runs almost two and a half hours long, it's clear the Duffer Brothers were given free reign to run amok, with Netflix setting no creative boundaries. Or, what if they did? It's entirely possible what we've just seen is the result of exhaustive compromises and multiple edits that don't even reflect the complete scope of their vision. That's a scary thought.

All this becomes important to consider as the show readies for its last lap, amidst the looming possibility that things could get even bigger and crazier from here. So while this definitely could have been shortened with little lost, "Chapter 8: Papa" and "Chapter 9: The Piggyback" are far from a slog. Neither are what anyone would categorize as traditional TV episodes due to their running times, but judged as the full-length features they are, it's a massive success.

The penultimate episode is tighter with an explosive finish that helps set the stage for one of the busier, messier action-packed conclusions the series has seen yet. But what makes it work are all the emotional character moments and mystery concerning who makes it out alive, reaching a fever pitch when Eleven collides with Vecna in the ultimate battle of good and evil, with the soul of Hawkins, Indiana hanging in the balance. 

Given everything that could go wrong, it's amazing how much doesn't, largely because the Duffers find a way to keep all the factions of characters simultaneously involved and connected with the same goal despite being geographically separated. There's a lot of cutting back and forth, but it's done really well, leading to an ending with serious ramifications and more than enough juice to carry the story into its fifth and final season, whenever that should come.

With Volume One revealing Vecna (Jamie Campbell Bower) as both Henry Creel and 001, the splintered groups prepare for battle as Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown) is torn between the increasingly divergent philosophies and methods of Brenner (Matthew Modine) and Owens (Paul Reiser). El's powers are returning thanks to the NINA project, but getting back to Hawkins to stop the carnage will be a challenge, especially with Lt. Colonel Sullivan (Sherman Augustus) still determined to find and eliminate her.  

As Mike (Finn Wolfhard), Will (Noah Schnapp), Jonathan (Charlie Heaton) and Argyle (Eduardo Franco) continue their search for El, Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo) out west, Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin), Steve (Joe Keery), Nancy (Natalia Dyer), Robin (Maya Hawke), Eddie (Joseph Quinn) and Erica (Priah Ferguson) are all still in Hawkins, formulating a plan to infiltrate the Upside Down and vanquish Vecna for good. But they'll need to use Max (Sadie Sink) as bait, on the heels of her barely surviving her last frightening near-death encounter with the mind controlling creature. 

With the grandfather clock literally ticking away until Vecna can open the gates to the Upside Down and destroy Hawkins, the gang continues to face danger from every direction as Jason (Mason Dye) and the basketball team are still after the Hellfire Club "cult" they blame for Vecna's brutal murders. Meanwhile in Russia, Joyce (Winona Ryder) and Hopper (David Harbour) are finally reunited, but before they can return home there's some Demogorgon business that needs taking care of.

As its title implies,"Chapter 8: Papa" further fleshes out the emotionally complicated love/hate relationship El has with Brenner, not to mention her role in Henry's monstrous transformation, which was arguably well underway before she sent him spiraling into the Upside Down. And now after appearing to see the light in aiding Owens, mad scientist Dr. Brenner is back in full control freak mode, claiming El isn't yet "ready"for Vecna. It's the latest game being played by a psychotically twisted father figure whose cruel manipulation nurtured and created this monster, who then killed the children he bullied and exploited for years. 

El and Henry were unfortunately the most gifted of Brenner's test subjects, earning them the full brunt of his time and attention, with disastrous consequences. When El takes a stand and tells him off, it's a cold, but short-lived dose of reality, as Sullivan's troops arrive to extinguish them both. Of course, they're no match for a now fully powered El, who telepathically crashes their military chopper in  awesome, Vader-like fashion. 

Considering the Duffer's reluctance to kill off characters, it's somewhat of a breakthrough that Brenner  finally get his, or so it appears. Here's hoping his death sticks this time since backtracking on this would undo everything that's been accomplished in having El grow and mature enough to break from "Papa" for good. As usual, Brenner only shows a conscience or remorse when things go horribly wrong...for him. It's only when he's clinging to life and drawing his final breath that he realizes it might be time to let her go, and even then, he seems more motivated by being forgiven for the unforgivable. El doesn't seem interested, as he slips away, his lifeless body lying in the desert when she escapes into the Surfer Boy Pizza van, reunited with Mike and crew.

A lot of credit should go to Matthew Modine, whose performance took Brenner to another level, bringing shades of humanity to the series' most diabolical character. And that viewers are actually left contemplating how much of his concern was genuine or manufactured is a testament to the mark he left. Going into the final season without him feels right, if El is to move forward, not to mention this also facilitates Owens' inevitable return.

It isn't exactly a secret that Jonathan and younger brother Will were given the short shrift all season, possibly because the entire original group were separated across state lines, only to reconnect in the finale's last 30 minutes. How much of that plot arose from scheduling difficulties or some other considerations we'll never know, but the show makes the most of it, even if the dynamic could be inconvenient at times. Jonathan (whose triangle with Nancy and Steve seems pushed to the next season) and new addition Argyle are mostly used for stoner comic relief while the bigger question revolves around figuring out what Will's deal is. 

Assumptions about Will's sexuality have been simmering since the series' start, but for a character they've done less and less with since Season 1, the writers sure have turned him into a bigger discussion point upon Mike's arrival in California. Will's apparent jealousy over Mike's feelings for El and his emotional outburst in the van (noticed only by concerned older brother Jonathan) over that painting has seemed to only increase that speculation. 

Considering how frustrated diehard fans get over ambiguity and unresolved plot threads, there's likely there's a plan for Will, even if it's probably truer to the era for him to fear coming out at all. While an understandably oblivious Mike misses cues of his best friend's crush on him, it's worth remembering that a similar situation with Robin permanently altered her relationship with Steve, and not necessarily for the better (see this season's clumsily handled Robin sub-plot with the Molly Ringwald dressalike). So, the Duffers will probably need to tread carefully here, doing something that feels authentic to both the character and period, while still complimenting the overall story.

Anyone still wondering where Netflix's budget goes,"Chapter 9: The Piggyback" basically confirms how much of it gets poured into Stranger Things' visual effects, as most of the episode takes place in the Upside Down. While you could argue maybe a little too much time is spent there, it's definitely exciting, with the series again striking soundtrack gold with Eddie having his Metallica moment with the "Master of Puppets" guitar solo and El entering Max's mind to get at Vecna via the makeshift pizza tank, getting around the logistical impossibility of having the entire gang back in Hawkins in time. 

While Mike professing his love for El as she's on the heels of defeat could have come off as corny, it works, mainly because it was a big point in Volume 1 and he provides that extra jolt of motivation for her to get over the hump and win this fight against the big bad of the Upside Down. And by facing a monster in a world she unintentionally helped shape and open, it makes this a lot more personal than her previous season ending battles.

With a bigger than ever cast, the series finds its loophole in killing off key characters by introducing enough compelling new ones that the impact of their deaths feel equally important. Such is the case for Joseph Quinn's delightfully crazed, big-hearted metal head Eddie, who goes through the entire season misunderstood, on the run and hunted like an animal by townsfolk fingering him as a murderer. 

Targeted in what was the very definition of a witch hunt, Eddie's sacrifice and eventual demise give him a hero's exit that recalls Steve's selfless actions at the end of the first season. The emotional moment Dustin shares with Eddie's uncle is one of the series' most moving, enabling Matarazzo to go places with his character he often isn't asked to, providing fitting closure to a brief but impactful friendship that emerged as one of the show's true highlights.

If Wolfhard, Schnapp and Heaton's characters fell somewhat off the radar in these nine episodes, it did allow some other supporting faces to shine through, such as Modine's Brenner and Brett Gelman's Murray. Whether it needed to take nine episodes for Joyce and Murray to bust Hopper out of that prison (and back in again) will be up for debate, but all the hijinks involving Yuri (Nikola Ðuričko) and Enzo (Thomas Wlaschiha) do lead to a satisfying payoff. You could probably bet on not seeing either again, but at least the finale finds the trimmer, samurai-sword wielding Hopper back in full ass-kicking mode, ready to head back home where he belongs.    

Few could have guessed Vecna would again come so close to killing Max that, by all intent and purposes, he does. The blame for that largely falls on psycho jock Jason, as his breaking of the Walkman ensured there would be no Kate Bush to save Max this time. Only Lucas, who puts up a hell of a fight against Jason, and El, who eventually resurrects her. But the sight of Max floating in the air, this time with arms and legs twisting and breaking as blood drips down her face is easily the finale's most jarring moment, further solidifying this as Sadie Sink's season. 

It's usually bad form in entertainment for anyone to use their superpowers to bring back the dead but the Duffers get a pass on this since Max is not only in a coma by episode's end, but the price Hawkins pays couldn't be any steeper. The gates open anyway, Vecna's probably still alive, and what's reported to be an "earthquake" is clearly just beginning. Everyone's reunited (most notably El and Hopper), but they're all in a very bad spot, making this a far cry from the El victories we've become accustomed to.

Closing on a cliffhanger that requires the action to pick up exactly where it left off is a first, leaving unfinished business that seems to require immediate attention when the show returns. Another years-long wait for the remaining episodes might not be feasible this time so the pressure's on for the remaining episodes to have a far faster turnaround. Rather than betting on viewers being as tolerant for another season that equals this in length, you have to think that a return to the tighter, hour-long, seven to nine episode format is the best way to close things out.

Notwithstanding any potential spin-offs, when the book of Stranger Things is written, this could be the season that's most remembered, discussed and argued over. The open-ending appears to take any sizable time jump off the table for the fifth season premiere, but I still contend it would be fascinating for the series' final minutes to take place in present day, but with different actors playing older versions of the surviving characters. But they need to get there first and these two volumes may have helped build a bridge that brings them closer. Until then, this continues defying the odds as Netflix's only long-running series left with true cross-generational appeal. All that's left is sticking the landing.