The Naked Gun (2025)

Director: Akiva Schaffer
Starring: Liam Neeson, Pamela Anderson, Paul Walter Hauser, Danny Huston, CCH Pounder, Kevin Durand, Liza Koshy, Eddie Yu, Moses Jones, Cody Rhodes, Busta Rhymes, Dave Bautista, "Weird Al" Yankovic 
Running Time: 85 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

What's immediately obvious in the opening minutes of co-writer/director Akiva Schaffer's sequel to the classic 80's and 90's Naked Gun comedy franchise is that he understands the assignment. And by successfully translating that same style of humor into the current era, the film doesn't let up for a second, bombarding us with an avalanche of jokes and sight gags that rarely miss during the entirety of its surprisingly tight 85 minutes. 

None of it's easy for any comedy to do, much less one based on a decades old movie adapted from a far older, even less known TV series. But in the spirit of those, this masters the lost art of playing it straight, as the best spoofs always have. Beating viewers into exhaustion before they can come up for air is a good problem to have, especially considering the concerns a promising trailer may have given its funniest bits away. As it turns out, that preview was an ideal tease, barely scratching the surface of the ensuing hilarity we'd get.

When LAPD Lieutenant Frank Drebin Jr. (Liam Neeson) attempts to thwart a bank robbery, his risky law enforcement methods get him reassigned to work alongside Capt. Ed Hocken Jr. (Paul Walter Hauser) investigating a fatal car crash involving software engineer Simon Davenport. After initially ruling the death a suicide, Frank's confronted by Simon's crime novelist sister Beth (Pamela Anderson), who suspects foul play and urges him to dig deeper, despite his noticeable doubts. 

Following the evidence, Frank questions Simon's wealthy boss and Edentech CEO Richard Cane (Danny Huston), prompting suspicions that the bank robbery and car crash could be linked. But as Frank and Beth grow closer, Cane sets the wheels set in motion for an over-the-top plan involving a device capable of reverting the population back to their primitive states so billionaires can rule the world. Now with the clock rapidly ticking, Frank and Beth must work together to somehow foil Cane's scheme before it's too late.

It's a pretty good sign when you're already in stitches after the opening sequence, an action packed robbery during which a valuable lockbox is opened to reveal the hilariously named electronic P.L.O.T. (Primordial Law of Toughness) device. And as we get our first dose of Neeson's physical comedy chops and deadpan delivery, it's obvious a lesser script would probably try to explain Frank Jr.'s relationship with his late father or maybe even include clips from the original. Schaffer isn't interested in any of that, instead wisely mocking that detail and an entire department of legacy hires in a gut busting moment before moving on.  

With each succeeding scene, Neeson proves equipped at filling Nielsen's shoes, gamely tackling this material no differently than he would the high octane thrillers he's built his reputation headlining. And already clever lines play only seem that much goofier when delivered in his gruff, no-nonsense tone. Though it's hard to cite every highlight, a running visual gag involving coffee and some unfortunate body cam footage of Frank's lunch break have to rank up there, along with a hysterical romantic weekend getaway involving him, Beth and a maniacal snowman. 

Pamela Anderson continues her career renaissance as the ideal onscreen partner for Neeson, keeping pace with him as the pair encounter one absurd situation after another. If her role recalls Priscilla Presley's, that's not a drawback since Anderson's better at it, sharing effortless chemistry with Neeson as she dives headfirst into the silliness required of her. And with all the sneering, cerebral menace he displays in his villainous turns, Danny Huston earns huge laughs doing it in a different context as psychotic billionaire Cane. There are also a handful of brief cameos that really hit the mark, mainly because the filmmakers don't overdue it, getting the most out of these appearances by utilizing them at opportune times.

Even when the plot seems to run out of gas in the third act it hardly matters since the jokes still hit hard right up to and including the final credits. Of course, this wouldn't be possible without Neeson, whose unflappable performance not only does Nielsen's outings proud, but proves "reboots" or "sequels" don't have to be dirty words. And unlike the recent Happy Gilmore 2, this doesn't abandon the original's rowdy attitude for a kinder, gentler trip down memory lane. Schaffer knows exactly what The Naked Gun should be and makes good on that promise, likely pleasing fans worried how this would turn out.                                                                

Cruella

Director: Craig Gillespie
Starring: Emma Stone, Emma Thompson, Joel Fry, Paul Walter Houser, Tipper Seifert-Cleveland, Emily Beecham, Kirby Howell-Baptiste, Mark Strong, John McCrea, Kayvan Novak, Jamie Demetriou
Running Time: 134 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

It's understandable that a certain amount of cynicism would accompany the release of Disney's Cruella, their latest attempt to repackage another one of their classic animated properties as a live-action adaptation. While they've traveled this road before with 101 Dalmations in 1996 and its sequel four years later, those predated the company's recent realization they could mine their entire catalog for a new generation unbothered by frequent complaints they're shamelessly cashing in on the past at the expense of creativity. Whether it's Cinderella (twice), Beauty and the Beast, The Lion King, or more recently, Mulan, results have been decidely mixed, most succeeding only in promoting a greater appreciation for the originals, which is probably still fine with Disney. 

Part fairy tale, Part supervillain origin story, part The Devil Wears Prada, director Craig Gillespie's take on Disney's most nororious dog hater doesn't deserve mention alongside those aforementioned reboot experiments mainly because there actually seems to be a definitive reason for its existence. It's worthwhile not only for adding something new to the mythos, but having more vision, style and purpose than most of what they've released in recent years. Taking place in kind of this heightened, hyper reality, it looks and feels tonally different from their usual fare, displaying far more ambition than anyone could have reasonably expected when the project was announced.

Comparisons could be made to 2019's Joker, until stopping to realize it still manages to be an entirely satisfying family movie that doesn't look out of place next to Disney's biggest hits. And that's a major accomplishment considering dalmations literally murder a woman in the opening minutes. It's crazy and audacious, but the key is in recalibrating this eventual villain as an anti-hero rising up against a system holding her down. Dana Fox and Tony McNamara's inventively tight script pushes back on the idea that Cruella de Vil is someone to root against or delusional in her beliefs. She's basically right about everything, and watching Emma Stone navigate that while battling an inescapable nastiness bubbling up inside is really something to behold. This, along with an inspired premise and frenetic pacing make its 134 minutes feel more like 30, demonstrating the potential benefits of repurposing classic characters to more strongly resonate with contemporary audiences. 

As a young child, Estella (Tipper Seifert-Cleveland) is a talented artist with an eye for fashion and a mean streak matched only by the white streak covering half her hair. After school fighting prompts mom Catherine (Emily Beecham) to remove her and relocate to London, she stops at a posh upper-class party to ask a mysterious woman for financial help. But when Estella's antics accidentally attract the attention of three ferocious dalmations, her mother is pushed off a balcony to her death. Orphaned and guilt-ridden, we flash forward to the height of the 70's fashion craze in London as a now young adult Estella (Stone) and pick-pocket friends Jasper (Joel Fry) and Horace (Paul Walter Houser) get by with thievery before she lands a janitorial job at the Liberty department store. 

With Estella's dreams of a career in fashion design quickly fading with each toilet she cleans, a chance encounter with legendary, but ice cold haute couture design chief, the Baroness (Emma Thompson) leads to an apprenticeship at her prestigious firm. But as the talented nwecomer rises up the ranks as the Baroness' go-to underling, she makes a shocking discovery about her abusive boss' relationship to her birth mother, leading Estella to plot revenge and introduce the fashion world to her outrageously diabolical alter-ego, Cruella.    

None of this would be worth doing if not for the surprisingly fresh, modern take on Cruella, who's placed against a backdrop and colorful punk aesthetic perfectly suited to the material. But before the narrative even gets there, the prologue focusing on a young, troublemaking Estella provides an effective entry point, at times resembling a rock biopic more than your typical Disney outing. Of course, some cartoonish bells and whistles are still present, but Gillespie incorporates those in better than anyone else in his position has, keeping the focus where it belongs as we follow this little hellraiser on her journey. 

Seifort-Cleveland plays the misbehaving Estella with moxie and heart, immediately getting us on her side despite the character's bratty behavior, then eventually because of it when we realize what she's truly going through. It might be the most overlooked, underappreciated performance in how it sets the stage for what Stone will do later, with both working as mirrors for the other in ways you rarely see when two actors play the same character at different ages. 

It's a seamless transition when Stone's bespeckled, but determined Estella begins ingratiating herself into London's fashion scene and falls under the wing of Emma Thompson's Baroness. Given its context, Thompson's turn is just as effective as Meryl Streep's, whose Miranda Priestly had to at least partially serve as some kind of inspiration for this. She walks all over Estella until the power dynamic of their initially imbalanced relationship is considerably altered by a major development.

The ensuing feud that escalates when the two Emmas face off is where the movie really finds its voice. And it's a loud one, complete with numerous musical montages and music video-style cutting that goes way over-the-top, but intentionally so. Everyone from The Stones to The Doors to Blondie to Queen are all over the soundtrack, but the movie gets away with it since everything fits the action and setting of the story like a glove. That's only bolstered by Nicolas Karakatsanis' cinematography and some wild costume designs by Oscar winner Jenny Beaven that doesn't just compliment the proceedings, but plays as integral a part in the story as any single character, if not more so.

All these elements converge to make the character of Cruella seem more like a counter-culture badass and social disruptor than just a formidable challenger to the Baroness' fashion throne. Stone plays Cruella as Estella's lastest design, carefully cultivated to hurt and humiliate Baroness, but matched by her quieter Estella scenes as a mousy busybody trying to protect her cover. This leads to a Clark Kent-Superman dynamic hinging on whether the two can continue co-existing, a hook the film's able to retain right up until its final minutes. Keeping the childhood trauma in the front of our minds, Stone gives an already unfairly overlooked, award-caliber performance made all the more remarkable by the fact that she's pulling double duty the whole time. In playing a character playing a character, the actress is consistently add layers of complexity and nuance to what could have been a live-action caricature, all within the tight confines of a big budget family vehicle.

Speculation as what this would look like if it wasn't a Disney film, or maybe had an 'R' rating instead of its already unexpected 'PG-13,' seems inevitable. Could it have gone further if commercial concerns weren't such an issue and there wasn't a product or franchise to push? Maybe, but to some degree Gillespie deserves even more credit for not only creatively delivering with those guardrails in place, but using them to his advantage in crafting an original story freed from any noticeable concessions. In doing that, Cruella pulls off a tricky balancing act, boldly reconciling art and commerce in a style its title character would unquestionably appreciate.