Promising Young Woman

Director: Emerald Fennell
Starring: Carey Mulligan, Bo Burnham, Alison Brie, Clancy Brown, Jennifer Coolidge, Laverne Cox, Chris Lowell, Connie Britton, Adam Brody, Max Greenfield, Christopher Mintz-Plasse, Sam Richardson, Alfred Molina, Molly Shannon
Running Time: 113 min.
Rating: R 

★★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

To say that Emerald Fennell's revenge thriller Promising Young Woman is about someone who does bad things for the right reasons would feel like engaging in the same double talk excuse-making that plagues the "nice guy" would-be rapists its title character terrorizes. A more accurate assessment of one the year's absolute best and most thought-provoking films would describe it as being about accountability. It scares us to death into being better, holding its mirror up to a society assuming they've done enough and can't be bothered by the fact that they really haven't done anything at all. 

Squashing any preconceived notions about an issue we thought we've examined every facet of over the past two years, it throws those prejudices back in our faces with nihilistic, venomous glee. A surface-level reading the film's antagonistic protagonist would have some mistaking her for kind of a female Dexter, replacing retribution for serial killers with rapists. And yet this tramples over that buzzy oversimplification to deliver a story that cuts much deeper, complete with a pitch black satirical slant. 

While damaged, this isn't a character who murders or maims, with all questions concerning her potentially fragile mental state circling back to a single trauma from the past that feeds an obsessive motivation. Despite a plot built around such an explosive character, the film's greatest trick is that this isn't necessarily a study in her behavior, but rather those she targets. It's all about them, and ultimately us. Or really anyone who, if maybe not directly the perpetrator, could have found themselves in a situation where laughing things off or ignoring them altogether proved to be an escape hatch from its actual ramifications. 

If complicity comes in many different forms, the scariest realization is that we may never truly know anyone. That's not news, but how writer, actress and first-time feature director Fennell's script meticulously builds her case twist-by-twist before knocking the wind out of you in its closing minutes is. Like the mesmerizing lead performance carrying it, the film's fearless in refusing to pull any punches before arriving at a complex destination that's far from inevitable considering what came before. Stylish and beautifully constructed, it doesn't only give you something to think about following the credits, but provokes genuine discomfort and even outrage at having such thoughts. Whatever they may be.

Cassandra "Cassie" Thomas (Carey Mulligan) is 30-year-old woman living with her parents (Clancy Brown and Jennifer Coolidge) in Ohio after having dropped out of medical school years earlier due to an incident involving her best friend Nina. Now working at a coffee shop, she spends her nights at clubs pretending to be drunk to bait guys into taking her home, where they inevitably try to take advantage of the situation before she reveals her sobriety. 

As the reasoning behind Cassie's dangerous game starts to come into focus, her insulated world is temporarily turned upside down after a chance encounter with former classmate and pediatric surgeon Ryan Cooper (Bo Burnham), whom she eventually starts dating. Cassie's emerging feelings for him seem to conflict with news that a hated ex-classmate, Alexander "Al" Monroe (Chris Lowell) is recently engaged to be married. 

The mere mention of Al's name is an immediate trigger for Cassie, prompting her to embark on an intricate revenge plan involving multiple people entwined in a morally corrupt, misogynistic system that failed Nina and sent both fleeing from med school. As Cassie exacts revenge on those who wronged them, the idea of having actually met a good guy in Ryan could present the possibility of a future she gave up on having years ago. To embrace that, she'll need to let go of these revenge fantasies and an anger that's consumed her since the incident. But given the full nature of what happened and its lingering long-term impact, that could prove impossible. 

The film announces what it is right away, as a seemingly drunk Cassie lures her first victim in, if only he were actually a "victim" or even "lured." The young, outwardly affable businessman (played by Adam Brody) could be better categorized as the victimizer, or worse. He's just one of the unsuspecting marks Fennell brilliantly manipulates us into hanging our hats on by reconceptualizing the "nice guy" facade they've adopted to define themselves. Lulling us into considering they wouldn't dare take advantage of a barely conscious young woman without a ride home, how surprised or disappointed viewers are with the results goes a long way in confirming a certain level of pre-existing cynicism and awareness. Already an old pro at this, Cassie's ten steps ahead, complete with a personal scorecard that consistently yields a similar, if not identical, outcome each time. 

Never doubting that these guys have any other intention but to rape her, she's often alarmingly right, with one creep (played by Superbad's Christopher Mintz Plasse) going so far as to premptively victim-shame her before he can even get started. What they all have in common is the terrified looks on their faces when she reveals the con and exposes them for who they really are. Once confronted with her sobriety, they back off immediately, cowering in fear, suggesting she's really in this for that moment, knowing her actions could have just prevented it from happening again. Some want to run, others throw out excuses, but the upper hand is now hers in a power dynamic that's jarringly shifted.  

The script doesn't glide over Cassie's obvious issues, but the deeper understanding we get of the event that drove her here makes it easier for us to wrap our heads around the behavior. But it's still wrecklessly dangerous as she continuously places herself in harm's way to avenge a crime that can never be adjudicated or erased, having already caused irrecovable trauma. The arrival of Ryan into her orbit is when the material effortlessly alternates between some darker elements and a courtship that's enormously entertaining enough to stand on its own as a romantic comedy.

Fennell is so good at handling everything involving this relationship, as Cassie's walls gradually and believably start to crumble to the point that we think she may finally be able to turn the page on the grief that's emotionally paralyzed her. And we're rooting hard for it, while nervously dreading that a few potentially devastating scenarios could play out to derail it. Among them is the possibility Ryan ucovers her nightime hobby, isn't the true "nice guy" he seems or she's secretly targeting him next, playing some kind of long con in the hopes of exposing something.

While all of this adds an undercurrent of tension to every interaction, the chemistry between Mulligan and Burnham is such that we actually don't want any of these unsettling scenarios to come to fruition. The latter, better known as a comedian and director of 2018's critically acclaimed Eighth Grade, is especially good, conveying a geeky, self-depricating sense of humor that chips away at Cassie's defenses.

The idea that those who harm in the past rarely go away and are frequently incapable of significant change makes Cassie's work easier than it should be. Al's the ultimate end game in terms of her vengeance, but as she moves down the list, the enablers come off just as badly. Alison Brie as a stuck-up former classmate and Connie Britton as the University Dean are such realistically written and performed characters in terms of their normalized obliviousness. Exhibiting familar, if hypocritical behavior, they haven't a care in the world unless they're pushed, and something's on the line. For them, of course. 

Cassie exposes all their malfeasances and self-deception in a manner mirroring what she does with the aspiring rapists, refusing to draw the line between the actual act and those who stand by facilitating it. Given the stakes, even those wrestling with the morality of her methods would likely agree it's a message that badly needed to be delivered. Her encounter with a damaged lawyer (played by Alfred Molina) plays far differently, Cassie's reaction suggest she's playing with a fuller deck than initially suspected and there are certain lines that won't be be crosssed.

Despite the silly controversy that's arisen involving Carey Mulligan's looks as it relates to her qualifications for the role, the fact she's playing so agressively against her perceived screen persona only works to the material's favor. Usually more associated with period dramas, she enters the story as underestimated as her wild character, frequently framed in and surrounded by bright rainbow colors by cinematographer Benjamin Kračun as to contrast sharply with the story's inherent darkness. There are a lot of creative landmines for Mulligan to navigate to in terms of tone and intent, but she responds with her strongest ever work, reflecting in Cassie someone that's borne from tragedy, but cemented in a sadness and anger overlooked by those to whom she's closest, which are few. Alternating between observant girl-next-door and extroverted vixen, she carries the character's messy history on her shoulders, and as a result, the entire film.

When it's time to enter the lion's den and come face-to-face with the toxic jock bro she's been waiting years to destroy, Cassie comes prepared. Everything that happens in this movie's polarizing last act is shocking, but with an accompanying method to its madness. While the numbers game puts her in as serious danger, it's gone too far for her to turn back now, not that she'd even consider that. What actually goes down at the cabin bachelor party is jaw-dropping, but it's the fallout that gives Fennell's film its poisonous aftertaste, connecting all its dots in the most sensational of ways. All of it culminates in a revelatory closing sequence where you can almost literally hear the sound of a book closing or the last knot being tightly tied as the camera pans out.

All the praise heaped upon these final few minutes should extend past the editing and performances to also include the soundtrack. Often, the mark of truly great uses of popular songs in movies can be defined by a feeling that you've just heard it for the first time regardless of how frequently it's previously been played elsewhere. We get such a needle drop here, with a throwback tune that perfectly and ironically caps the moment, further enhancing the action it's juxtaposed against. It's such an ideal fit you'd figure it was written exactly for this scene, and unlikely to be heard the same way again. There's another more recent mainstream pop selection that makes a memorable karaoke cameo earlier on, but the closer is in a class by itself, marking one of many elements Fennell seamlessly harnesses to establish this nasty, confrontational experience as so much more than the mere sum of its parts.   

This would make for a great double feature with 2020's other provocative #MeToo drama, The Assistant, which could have easily been mistaken for a documentary given how raw and emotionlessly it depicted a similarly abusive environment. Tone-wise, they definitely don't match, but categorizing both under the same hashtag might be selling each short, reducing them to a very specific movement. It's never explicitly stated when the events here take place, and while the technology heavily implies present day, there's a timelessness to the proceedings and surroundings that force you to do a double take, speculating how a similar concept could have played out in the 80's or 90's. Or more pertinently, what the reaction would have been. Too full of jagged edges and black humor to be preaching anything, Promising Young Woman lets its scenario, and all the despicably flawed figures involved, speak for itself. And in doing that it becomes an outlier amongst socially concious thrillers by transcending the era for which it's made to become a stinging indictment on humanity as a whole.     

Freaky

Director: Christopher Landon
Starring: Vince Vaughn, Kathryn Newton, Katie Finneran, Dana Drori, Celeste O' Connor, Misha Osherovich, Uriah Shelton, Alan Ruck, Melissa Collazo
Running Time: 101 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

The body swap movie has always been a popular Hollywood standby, going all the way back to such titles as 18 Again!, Vice Versa and even the more contemporarily popular 13 Going on 30. Christopher Landon's Freaky has a unique take on this, adding comedic horror elements and a wildly effective gender flip to the equation. That it comes from the director of the underpraised, Groundhog Day-inspired Happy Death Day is of little surprise, with the two slashers sharing very similar sensibilities.This isn't quite as successful, but after an awkward start where the tone seems to be all over the place, it quickly settles into a groove, emerging more as a standout in a sub-genre where it seems as if everything's already been tried. 

It opens as the Scream sequel we never needed in going so over-the-top and self-referential to start that I half-expected the camera to pull back and reveal a theater full of cheering moviegoers. And when a giant title card reading "Wednesday the 11th" appears on screen, I figured it was only a matter of time. But no, this is all literally occurring, complete with a lanky, hulking figure who resembles Vince Vaughn offing teenagers in an intentionally cheap-looking monster mask stitched together from Leatherface and Michael Myers' leftovers. 

That this is a Blumhouse production makes perfect sense considering Blum himself has been trying obtain the remake rights to Friday the 13th, for which this opening sequence could be considered a trial run. The sequence ends with a clever tennis court kill that would immediately win any skeptic over. So  while still enagaging in a few familar tropes, this at least knows what it is and breaks free in a big way, thanks in no small part to a well-conceived scenario, lots of laughs and two opposing stars who literally and figuratively slay their roles. 

When four teenagers are murdered by the masked Blissfield Butcher (Vaughn), he's able to get his hands on an ancient dagger known as La Dola, the community goes on high alert. Bullied, insecure high school student Millie Kessler (Kathryn Newton) is still reeling from her father's sudden death a year ago, caring for her emotionally dependent, alcoholic mom, Coral (Katie Finneran) while older sister Charlene (Dana Drori), a police officer, dives into her work. After performing as the school mascot at the homecoming game, Millie's cornered alone by the Butcher, as he stabs her in the arm with the mystical dagger. 

With both waking up the next day realizing they've switched bodies, the Butcher now occupies Millie as she finds herself inhabiting the body of this serial killer. Conversely taking full advantage of his 17 year-old girl disguise, the Butcher goes to school and wreaks havoc as Millie, simultaneously shocking and exciting her peers with a dangerous new attitude. Meanwhile, the real Millie attempts to adjust to being stuck in a man's body, while trying to convince best friends Nyla (Celeste O' Connor) and Josh (Misha Osherovich) and crush Booker (Uriah Shelton) what's happened. But she'll need to take possession of the dagger and stab the Butcher by midnight to reverse the curse, or they'll be permanently trapped in the other's body. 

It's kind of a tradition in these movies that the two characters switch bodies due to some magical object they're exposed to, and as much as this film does differently, the script very much sticks to this. Even by those standards, the La Dola dagger that incites the switch is no more or less ridiculous than previous examples of this type of plot device. And no teen slasher could be complete without a central female character who's bullied for being either a "freak," or "loser," deemed undateable for no discernable reason other than they think they are, or maybe simply because it's high school. This can be challenging since the qualities they're looking for when casting an actress for that can sometimes oppose what's required when the cameras start rolling. She'll not only have to be popular and an outcast all at once, but pretend to inhabit the body of a killer more than twice her age and a different gender. 

Kathryn Newton deftly handles all of this as well as anyone could, marking it as a big, star-making outing for her after some rebellious teen turns on TV (Big Little Lies, Halt and Catch Fire) and the big screen (Blockers). While the movie lays it on pretty thick in the beginning to set everything up, it requires massive shifts in attitude and personality at the drop of a hat, providing a great showcase for a rapidly rising actress we'll definitely be seeing a lot more of. Once she does her slo-mo walk through the school's doors as Butcher it's game on, with the results being just as funny and thrilling as its wacky premise suggests. It also opens the floodgates for Millie's antagonists getting theirs, including Ferris Bueller's Alan Ruck, whose brief, but memorable work as an angry, abusive shop teacher is one of the movie's biggest treats, providing a textbook example of how to properly riff on a cult actor's reputation in a modern slasher.

You're initially sort of perplexed at Vince Vaughn's mannerisms as a teen girl, until the manhunt kicks in and he goes on the run, attempting to convince everyone he (or she) isn't what he appears to be. In this regard there are some great physical comedy scenes that revolve around the actor's size, more easily enabling the script to find ways for Millie to unlock the inner and outer strength residing in her, playing on the movie's themes. Because of its genre, and Vaughn's capabilities, this goes further you'd expect, with some highlights including a kitchen brawl with her friends and a great gag involving him bumbling around town in a creepy Aaron Rodgers mask. The height of Vaughn's portrayal comes in a department store fitting room conversation with Millie's mom who's completely unaware she's finally opening up to her own daughter, albeit while stuck in the body of a fugitive killer.   

Much of the third act revolves around comedic misunderstandings and mistaken identity scenarios, as it becomes a race to obtain the dagger and sell Millie's cop sister on the outrageous conceit that the murderer in her crosshairs is actually Millie. The ending is kind of a mixed bag in that it engages in something all slashers do, if rarely so blatantly. Given this is a parody of sorts, Landon gets away with it, even if you can't help but think there's an excised scene somewhere that clarifies a huge logic leap in the film's final few minutes. If it plays fast and loose with the rules even by horror comedy standards, Landon and co-writer Michael Kennedy earn points for a closing line that's memorable enough for them to deservedly be fist-bumping everyone in sight.

Freaky picks up steam and doesn't relent, exhausting every available plot avenue with its admittedly inspired twist on a familiar concept. You have to respect its willingness to go all the way with it, daring us to cringe and laugh in discomfort at its absurdity, which is exactly the point. Even if it all makes for a better body swap comedy than self-aware teen horror entry, we already have more than enough of the latter that it shouldn't matter one bit. It's easy to see what sets this apart, and there's little mystery in why fans of any genre would be raving about it.

Sound of Metal

Director: Darius Marder
Starring: Riz Ahmed, Olivia Cooke, Paul Raci, Lauren Ridloff, Mathieu Amalric
Running Time: 120 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

In director/co-writer Darius Marder's Sound of Metal, we meet a drummer on the verge of going deaf. He's also a recovering addict, though that doesn't factor into the story how you'd even guess or expect. Whatever rock bottom is, he's about to hit it, his mindset existing somewhere between extreme denial, anger and delusion. In some strange sense, you could force yourself into admiring his stubborness and refusal to give up in a battle he little chance at winning because he's fighting the wrong problem in the wrong way.

Unknowlingly his own worst enemy, this character is someone who clearly views seeking help as a weakness when it's so much more obviously the braver choice to be made. But that's so easy to say from the outside looking in, and what's most engrossing about this intimately sharp, painful character study is how Marder never pushes too hard, just letting this all unfold. Far from a comeback or inspiring redemption tale despite fleeting moments where it seems headed that way, it also somehow avoids being a depressingly hopeless indie about a damaged man destroying everything and everyone around him.

This road is more realistically bumpy than that, with ups and downs that move at a rhythm  fittingly matching the protagonist's occupation and obsession. And just when we think that he's making a major breakthrough, self-sabotage kicks in, revealing the true scope of his predicament. Featuring two of the year's best performances, it also employs some inventive sound techniques that places us in the literal head space of a character losing his hearing, making for a discomforting but fully immersive and memorable experience. 

Recovering drug addict and drummer Ruben Stone (Riz Ahmed) and one half of the popular metal group, Blackgammon, along with his girlfriend and lead singer, Lou (Olivia Cooke). Together, they travel cross country in an RV performing gigs, until Ruben notices he's losing his hearing. After an audiologist confirms it, he's warned to focus on preserving the little hearing he has left, which is  rapidly deteriorating. Despite the warning, he continues to play, further exposing himself to loud music that worsens his condition When the surgical possibility of cochlear implants is brought up, its hefty price tag and the fact it isn't covered by insurance make that option a seemingly insurmountable challenge.

With concerns about Ruben's sobriety and refusal to give up performing, Lou talks to his sponsor, who sends him to a community home for deaf addicts run by Joe (Paul Raci), a recovering alcoholic who lost his hearing in Vietnam. After initially resisting, Ruben returns and Joe takes him under his wing, with the community helping him learn sign language and adjust to his new life as a deaf person. But that itch to return to his former life remains, still hoping to reunite with Lou and pick up where they left off with the band and their relationship. If he can get the money, surgery remains a tempting prospect, even as Joe offers him the opportunity to make his temporary stay at the home more permanent. 

With static, uintelligible voices and faint muffled noises, the sound design lets the viewer into Ruben's hearing loss as he experiences it, and it's a punishingly empty vacuum, closing off by the second. Now suddenly cut-off and disconnected from the rest of the world, his ability to effectively communicate seems to go within days and that he's also an addict serves to make any potential adjustment even more traumatizing. As someone who always had to keep moving, playing and performing to maintain his sanity and sobriety, when it all goes away, that silence puts him in a dangerous place. Lou senses this before he pushes her away too, eventually agreeing to seek help, while still refusing to fully acknowledge what that assistance is actually for. 

Much as been made about all the preparations an unrecognizably tatttooed Riz Ahmed undertook for the role, including learning drumming and American sign language. While that brings the authenticity, the lasting imprint he leaves with this complex, intense performance is that of an individual whose music had replaced the drugs. With the possibility of that now going away, he's completely exposed, unsure if there's any more to him beneath that. Well-traveled character actor Paul Raci plays Joe as a man who's been around the block and sees right through him, knowing Ruben's only path to salvation lies with him being comfortable in the stillness and silence that comes from settling into his new skin as a deaf person. 

The film's middle section focuses on what we believe will be Ruben's breakthrough, as he sits in with Diane's (Lauren Ridloff) class of deaf children, learning the ropes as he teaches them a little something about music in return. But he views this a lot differently than they do and we'd want him to, almost as a vehicle to somehow triumphantly regain his old life, which is an impossibility at best. 

At the film's heart is this philosophical showdown revolving around what constitutes a "disability." Ruben's refusal to envision any type of scenario where his hearing isn't "cured" goes against everything Joe believes in and works toward in this home. From Joe's standpoint, Ruben most definitely needs to be fixed, but his problem has less to do with deafness than an inability to accept the reality of his situation. 

This all comes to a head in a powerful masterclass of acting between Ahmed and Raci, a fight of wills between two people who do really respect one another, even if it can only end in one way. For Joe, continuing to help Ruben and keep him there is a toxic betrayal of the people he helps, just as the latter views Joe's philosophy as the equivalent of throwing in the towel. Just the very idea of a deaf person potentially being shunned by the deaf community for wanting to hear again is controversial in itself, but the script excellently presents these two opposing ethical stances.  

Some may find themselves impatient with the film's deliberate pacing as the story takes a dramatic detour in its prolonged final third, but it's an unexpected and necessary one. Ruben's attempt to reconnect with Lou and the the life he was forced to leave behind brings with it some painful, eye-opening realizations about his condition, hearing and otherwise. What he thought he always wanted, he may not, at least not in its current state. That there's any kind of realization from him at all is where the ending's potency comes from, subtly indicating that he could be headed in a more productive direction. But given his demons, it's still hard to discount the chance he's not. 

If blindness or sight loss is a condition frequently covered in dramas, comedies and even action or mystery thrillers, deafness has rarely been handled on screen as often, especially in such an honest, confrontational manner. Sound of Metal succeeds by putting a laser-like focus on the diagnosis itself and exploring its ramifications in real-world terms, resulting in a painful examination of our capacity to adapt to change. Should Ruben eventually accept what constitutes a new life, we get the impression it may only be the first in a long line of battles he'll now be better equipped to handle.            

Wonder Woman 1984

Director: Patty Jenkins
Starring: Gal Gadot, Chris Pine, Kristen Wiig, Pedro Pascal, Robin Wright, Connie Nielsen, Lilly Aspell, Kristoffer Polaha, Lucian Perez, Gabriella Wilde
Running Time: 151 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Wonder Woman 1984 opens with a great sequence of a young Diana Prince (Lilly Aspell) competing in a triathalon-style athletic event on Themyscira. It's probably one of the more exciting and thematically relevant openings to a superhero entry in a long time, setting the bar extremely high for whatever follows. Racing against older, more experienced gladiators than herself, she takes a shortcut, attempting to cheat to secure a win. This doesn't go well for the future warrior, but perfectly sets the table for rest of the story, which eventually introduces a 1984 that can really only be seen through the prism of present-day. And in an an effort to depict the toxic selfishness and individualism running rampant in both decades, director and co-writer Patty Jenkins delivers a sequel that's actually about something. 

While that ambition doesn't always translate into creative greatness in a conventional sense, this is an effort that's ridiculously eager to please and entertaining in all the ways a new Wonder Woman entry should be. 2017's reboot of the franchise proved that Jenkins had a strong handle on what exactly this character should be, and now freed from handling the responsibility of an origin story, she lets loose. While the action's set in the '80's, it also carries with it many of the qualities that would accompany a big budget comic book movie that came out during that era, throwing a lot of elements against the wall with a cheeky tone. Most of it sticks, in no small part due to a plot that's silly beyond belief, but executed with enough flare and confidence that you can't help but respect her for going all the way with it.

It's 1984 and Diana Prince (Gal Gadot) is working as a cultural anthropologist at the Smithsonian in Washington, D.C., while also moonlighting as Wonder Woman when necessary. After encountering the shy, awkward new museum crypto-zoologist, Barbara Ann Minerva (Kristen Wiig), the two bond over antiquities and become fast friends, with the socially invisible Barbara envious of Diana's intelligence, beauty and confidence. But when both come upon a mysterious rock from a burglary they're able to eventually identify as a "Dreamstone," its Latin inscription reveals it to be capable of granting the holder a single wish. For Diana, that wish would be for her deceased love Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) to be alive, while the ignored, insecure Barbara wants only to be just like Diana. 

It turns out both wishes carry more baggage than expected, along with some dangerous trade-offs. Enter sleazy, failing oil businessman and TV personality Max Lord (Pedro Pascal) who, posing as a museum donor, looks to get his hands on the stone, planning to make a wish that could cause disastrous worldwide repercussions if it's successfully granted. With Max using Barbara as a pawn in his evil plan, Wonder Woman is faced with a debilitating decision, forced to choose between two unthinkable options in order to protect society from destroying itself.   

The biggest difference between this and the fairly praised first film is most obviously its setting, taking place nearly three quarters of a century later, Jenkins takes full advantage of the era to deliver a fish-out-of-water story of Diana attempting to find her barings without Steve in new, unfamilar territory. This opens the door for a lot of visual gags and jokes centered around the mid 80's, to the point you'd think this was a lost long-form episode of Stranger Things, even featuring a mall fight to start things off. While it's more of a corny, cartoonish version of the decade than that series, it still works really well since the actual plot is an ideal fit for the era during which it takes place, with Max's insatiable greed and Barbara's desperation in providing its driving engine. 

The Dreamstone's introduction doesn't initially inspire confidence the plotline can sustain enough narrative momentum, especially in regards to Steve's sudden resurrection. In some ways his body swapping return feels like the ultimate deus ex machina until we get an explanation of how it fits into the bigger picture. But it's still fair to say that the character feels more like Diana's appendage or sidekick this time around, reappearing with far less agency than he did in the first film. Due to these circumstances, the reunion itself doesn't emotionally land as solidly as it should, as Pine's sort of hung out to dry for extended stretches. If Steve's arc is the weak link, the idea itself eventually turns into an intriguing one for Diana when she has to face the true ramifications of her wish. 

Whatever may be sacrificed with Diana and Steve is made up ten-fold with a surprisingly involving pair of top-notch villains. Kristen Wiig, whose big screen mileage can vary depending on the role, is pitch perfect as this mousy museum employee who finally has a chance to be noticed and respected in a trajectory that's very similar to Selina Kyle/Catwoman's in Batman Returns. Her slow-burning transformation into Cheetah is built with just the right dose of empathy, moving at an ideal pace and peaking exactly when it needs to. Claiming she's the best thing in this movie wouldn't be inaccurate, but The Mandalorian's Pedro Pascal sure gives her a run for it as Max Lord, a crooked oil magnate obviously patterned as a hybrid of Gordon Gekko and Donald Trump, with heavier emphasis on the latter. 

Pascal really goes for the jugular with a maniacal, over-the-top performance that contains some quieter, subtler acting choices, investing what was probably intended as a broad parody with surprising depth. He makes this guy so deliriously full of himself that it's kind of a joy to watch, completely washing away whatever preconceived expectations fans may have had about his casting. One of the more impactful sub-plots involves Max's relationship with his young son Alistair (Lucian Perez), adding another interesting layer to this diabolical, larger-than-life scam artist turned deranged cult leader. 

If the third act is where most superhero endings falter, this one actually gains quite a bit of steam when the enormity of Max's plan comes to fruition, along with Wonder Woman's eventual showdown with Cheetah. The most resonant aspect of its concluding forty minutes is how the Dreamstone's powers, or more accurately Max's abuse of them, leads to the emergence of another villain: Us. With him preying upon and manipulating everyone into indulging in their basest instincts, the script takes a timely turn that's sure make more than a few viewers do a double take, if not outright squirm in their seats at what's unfolding.

Featuring two wildly entertaining supervillains that compliment each other surprisingly well, this doesn't feel overstuffed or self-indulgent, despite its extended length. Gal Gadot serves as its effortlessly steady anchor, impressing again in the role she was born to play, after Hollywood spent decades trying and failing to find the ideal actress for it. Of all the tentpole comic book franchise leads, whether it be DC or Marvel, she feels the least replaceable, lending even more credibility to a series that truly "gets" its character. Without discounting its minor issues, I'd still probably take WW84 over its predecessor simply because it's more fun, utilizing its setting and time period to deliver the rare superhero sequel that feels less like a cash grab than a smart, purposeful continuation.

Tenet

Director: Christopher Nolan
Starring: John David Washington, Robert Pattinson, Elizabeth Debicki, Dimple Kapadia, Michael Caine, Kenneth Branagh, Himesh Patel, Clémence Poésy, Aaron Taylor-Johnson
Running Time: 150 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)
 
Pending its heavily discussed arrival into theaters, Christopher Nolan's Tenet was promised to "save movies," which is a silly expectation to thrust upon any major release regardless of quality, but one Nolan can at least partially put on himself. Instead, it ended up being the equivalent of a tree falling in the forest, with the few who did risk venturing out to see it leaving perplexed and frustrated by its complicated plot, among other perceived issues. But those who loved it really did, touting it as a visionary accomplishment that's staggeringly original even by the director's highest standards. So here we are, and if two completely conflicting viewpoints could ever both be true, it's now.

What hits the screen is ultimately matters most, and as confusing as certain sections of this are, its strengths and weaknesses are plainly obvious, laid bare for everyone to judge. Technically, it may be the most ambitious picture Nolan's made, while still justifiably earning its label as his most inaccessible. Following the more conventional Dunkirk, it returns him to the cerebral mind mash that's become his trademark, both for better and worse. That inescapable feeling he's become a parody of himself in the public consciousness has always been mitigated by his sheer talent, the full scope of which is given an incredible platform here, despite any of the film's perceived faults.

When a CIA agent known simply as the "Protagonist" (John David Washington) has his life saved during an extraction operation at a Kyiv opera house, he ends up captured and tortured by unknown mercenaries. With the rest of his team dead, he's recruited by this covert organization called "Tenet," which is experimenting with time manipulation technology, such as bullets that can move backward through time. These inverted objects are believed to have come from the future, as The Protagonist is aided by his mysterious contact Neil (Robbert Pattinson) in tracing them to Priya (Dimple Kapadia), an arms trafficker who reveals they were purchased by ruthless Russian oligarch Andrei Sator (Kenneth Branagh). 

After approaching Sator's estranged art appraiser wife, Kat (Elizabeth Debicki), The Protagonist soon discovers the bitter, volatile nature of their relationship, which hinges on blackmail stemming from a falsely authenticated drawing. As he and Neil close in on Sator's catastrophic plan involving the inverted technology, they realize its capabilities are far more dangerous than initially feared, resulting in not only the entropy of objects, but people as well. With Sator holding all the cards, The Protagonist will have to depend on Neil and Kat to help stop him before it's too late. For everyone. 

It's odd resisting the temptation to describe Tenet as a time travel film because in many ways that's exactly what it is, and also isn't. When characters come face-to-face with past versions of themselves the general rule is that it qualifies as such, even if part of this confusion stems from the fact that nothing in the narrative is spoon fed to us.You can't help but feel the audience is being placed in much the same way as The Protagonist in that there's a certain disorientation that defines the first thirty to forty minutes where you literally have no idea what's happening or why. We're given some information, then a little more as he gets closer, before the film really kicks into high octane mode and everything somehow comes together as it goes.

A highway heist sequence and a gripping airport-set fight with a character moving backwards through time form the mostly solid foundation of a plot that's very Bond-like in presentation, aside from the script's complex, impenetrable ideas that required an almost inhuman level of attention from viewers. Most of it does make sense upon retrospection, but you're so absorbed in the breakneck action sequences and undeniably cool aesthetic that even its admittedly overlong two and a half hour running time feels less like a chore than a mission. And that's actually more of a compliment than it seems when you're talking about considerably harder science fiction than either Nolan's own Inception or Interstellar. This aims higher, unconcerned with the touchy feely component many thought bogged down that latter effort in the end. Clinical and cold as ice, this doesn't come without a cost, as its plot is packed with expository dialogue that gives up frustratingly little. 

Having disregarded most previous complaints about sound in Nolan's films, issues are unmistakenly noticeable this time, even on a home viewing. At the risk of joining a chorus of dissenters, it's called for here since there is a legitimate challenge hearing and understanding some the dialogue due to background noise or Luwig Göransson's score drowning it out. While he's probably the single best composer working today and this is a top tier effort from him, there's hardly a minute in the film where there isn't music, occasionally detracting from verbal exchanges that relay key information. It's to Nolan's credit that every spoken line is that important, but he just saved Oscar viewers the trouble of having to distinguish between sound mixing and editing this year since it won't be nominated for either. If he was going to so boldly demand this get the widest theatrical release at the worst possible time, it would have benefited him, and us, to fix that. 

Washington is the ideal fit for the unnamed Protagonist, subverting what could have easily been a standard issue superhero by conveying a fearful everyman quality that's masked by his cool and competent professionalism in the face of insurmountable danger. Branagh is barbaric in the best way possible as Sator, legitimately chilling and sadistic every moment he's on screen. If Pattinson has the least to do as Neil, he does it better and more agreeably than just about anyone else would, radiating a brooding inteligence that gives glimpses into why his run at (The) Batman is likely to work. 

The movie really belongs to Elizabeth Debicki as Kat, a physically and psychologically abused spouse desperate to get out. But here's the kicker. While that's exactly what it is, everything about that just seems like so much more in her hands. Unmistakably distinct and captivating in how she speaks, looks and carries herself, she brings an intellectual curiosity to the proceedings that would have been glaringly absent otherwise. The actress has been quietly on the upswing in various roles, but this feels next level, representing the best kind of supporting performance in that it's almost invisibly indispensible. Of all the crazy, inexplicable events that occur, it's actually her scenes opposite Branagh that strike the hardest, giving the film that emotional core we previously assumed was lacking. 

Tenet is something we've never seen before, and while it may take many more viewings and the use of subtitles to completely sort out, it's also unforgettable, looking and feeling like a groundbreaker the more you back away from it. Having finally made his own Bond film, this plays better than most of them, while containing a concept you'd believe gestated for over a decade and uniformly excellent performances from an intriguing, eclectic cast. Having already gone through the inevitable phase of parsing through it all, it's both more and less complicated than it appears. But as polarizing as it is, you'd have a harder time writing it off as insignificant, signaling that Nolan hasn't lost his touch, consistently confounding us as we bang our heads against the wall. 

Cobra Kai (Season 3)

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, Gianni DeCenzo, Martin Kove, Vanessa Rubio, Diora Baird, Ed Asner, Dan Ahdoot, Bret Ernst, Ken Davitian, Yugi Okumoto, Tamlyn Tomita, Traci Toguchi, Barrett Carnahan, Terry Serpico, Jesse Kove
Original Airdate: 2021  

**The Following Review Contains Major Spoilers For The Third Season Of Cobra Kai **

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Of the many elements The Karate Kid sequel series, Cobra Kai, has executed with creative perfection over its two seasons, the most glaring is that it's taken two iconic characters from a wildly successful movie made over thirty years ago and enhanced them. By deepening an iconic rivalry into something even more relatable, the show's freed from having to entirely rely on nostalgia as a storytelling crutch like so many failed reboots before it. Johnny Lawrence (William Zabka) and Daniel LaRusso (Ralph Macchio) are two fundamentally flawed characters whose lives have been framed and steered by what happened in high school, triggering both anytime they even share the same air space. 

While they've had fleeting moments of peaceful co-existence since Johnny's resurrection of the Cobra Kai dojo prompted Daniel to open his competing Miyagi-Do, their feud's fully spilled over into the All Valley community, with disastrous consequences. And in starting essentially from scratch with a new generation of teen characters, the show's other gigantic achievement is in getting us to care as much, if not more, about them as we do this legendary pair of dueling middle-aged senseis. 

If Johnny's purpose has been to correct the mistakes he's made as a person and father since high school, Daniel's focus has revolved around honoring the teachings of his late mentor Mr. Miyagi into his personal and professional life. Of course, the more he gets sucked into this rivalry the harder that becomes, reminding us that if there's one thing every fan thought was impossible, it was doing this series without the late Pat Morita's presence as Mr. Miyagi. And they don't, since hardly a minute goes by where he doesn't still feel like an integral part of the proceedings. These ten episodes do the best job thus far incorporating him in, not only with some really meaningful call-backs and flashbacks, but actual plot points that adapt his philosophies into action.

Any concerns the series would be lose steam with its jump from YouTube to Netflix or the creative well would start to run dry are unfounded as we're treated to the return of a major character that couldn't be handled any better, exceeding all expectations of how she would slide back into this story, no matter how briefly. And if the two previous season finale karate battles helped define its characters, we get a final episode here that simultaneously juggles three such sequences, including one that literally feels thirty years in the making.

As the fallout from the high school fight continues to reverberate through the Valley, Miguel (Xolo Maridueña,) lies in the ICU facing the prospect he may never walk again, much less compete. Johnny's estranged son Robby (Tanner Buchanan) is on the run, facing the prospect he could face charges for the attack, as both Johnny and Daniel reluctantly team up to find him, strongly disagreeing on the methods they'll use to do it. 

With a returning John Kreese (Martin Kove) having betrayed Johnny and taken ownership of the Cobra Kai dojo and Miguel's mother Carmen (Vanessa Rubio) blaming him for the accident, Johnny's spiraling again. Only a possible reconciliation with his and Daniel's ex-girlfriend Ali Mills (Elisabeth Shue) provides him with some semblance of a second chance as he helps Miguel recuperate.

Daniel's also struggling since Miyagi-Do's role in the fight has shattered his upstanding reputation, sinking sales at the car dealership. As he and wife Amanda (Courtney Henggeler) formulate a plan to save the business, daughter Sam (Mary Mouser) struggles with panic attacks in the wake of Miguel's fall and attack at the hands of badass Cobra Kai queen Tory (Peyton List), whose school expulsion and family problems have temporarily sidelined her. 

Assembling a more ruthless group than ever before, led by an angry Hawk (Jacob Bertrand), Sensei Kreese wants to extract revenge on Miyagi-Do, even as we learn about the traumatic life event that turned the hardened karate instructor into this monster. Now, Johnny and Daniel may have to put their differences aside long enough to deal with him while Miguel inches closer to recovery, only to return to a Cobra Kai that's channeling its bloodthirsty roots of decades past. The battle for the very soul of the Valley is on, and everyone's going to have to pick a side. 

There's a reshuffling of the deck, with Miguel's injury essentially ostracizing Johnny from everything and everyone, leaving him to contemplate the role he may have unintentionally played in encouraging the fight that saw his own son nearly killing the student he coached to the championship trophy. But his biggest mistake was letting let Sensei Kreese back into the Cobra Kai fold, somehow thinking things would be different, resulting in him again getting cruelly manipulated by the only father he's really ever known.

The relationship between Johnny and Miguel that's always been at the series' core is now strained, but undergoing repairs, with the rebellious sensei employing a grab bag of unconventional techniques to literally get him back on his feet. It calls back to some of their best training scenes from the first season, while providing some hilarious moments that effectively play off Johnny being stuck in the past. 

When the show was first announced, initial worries the material would be treated as merely a comedic spoof of the films proved completely unfounded as it ended up finding just the right dramedic mix. But by far the the most effective ongoing gag is Johnny being frozen in the '80s because it's not only good comedy, but completely true to the character. 

If the writers are ever in danger of veering into Encino Man territory with this, Zabka's smooth timing conquers all, whether Johnny's dishing out some "tough love" by setting Miguel's shoelace ablaze to get him walking again or making painfully dated Vanna White references. And while his inability to understand the concept of public parks or any social norms might raise eyebrows, nothing tops his attempts this season to use social media.

Despite Johnny steadily growing in this reluctant mentoring role, the writers and Zabka have excelled at making sure he's still very much the Johnny we knew, resisting the urge to have him go "soft," with those aforentioned scenes and occasionally boreish behavior reinforcing that. Mistakenly putting his trust in Kreese again may have put him on the outs with Robby, Miguel, the Larusso's and basically the entire community, but as the season progresses it becomes clear he's not ready to throw in the towel just yet. 

The past also catches up with Daniel when an unexpected business trip to Japan to save the dealership reunites him with former girlfriend Kumiko (Tamlyn Tomita) and arch nemesis Chozen (Yugi Okumoto) in a far different and more commercialized Okinawa than he remembers having visited with Miyagi as a teen (Ep. 3.4, "The Right Path"). While creators Josh Heald, Jon Hurwitz, and Hayden Schlossberg haven't shied away from diving into the film mythology, this is their biggest swing yet, if only because The Karate Kid Part II was always viewed as paling in comparison to its more respected predecessor. But hindsight has revealed it to be an undervalued chapter that actually did a lot right, delivering some memorable franchise moments. And since this isn't nostalgia for the mere sake of it, Daniel's scenes with Kumiko dovetail into his current situation, while continuing to emphasize Miyagi's lifelong impact on him. 

For those who do hold the sequel in high regard, his interaction with Chozen is even more satisfying, with Okumoto returning to the role a far better actor, and with a more complicated, intriguing character to play. Conveying a mix of menace and calm, he gives us more than what we came for, before the script is flipped and we also end up getting something else entirely. It's one of the season's many reunions that challenges Daniel, as many of his actions and decisions upon returning home can be traced to what occurs in the episode. 

If ever a character seemed immune to change or growth, it's the sadistic John Kreese, whose origin story is explored in considerable detail. There's always a level of creative risk when incorporating flashbacks that could potentially alter our perceptions of already established figures or overexplain actions better left to viewers' imaginations. The writers successfully walked this line in the first season in showing glimpses of Johnny's troubled childhood in pre-Karate Kid scenes and again last season with flashes of Kreese's life before he returned. 

Now with a full 1960's Vietnam subplot, they're able to go all in, showing how he came to be and what exactly led to his founding of Cobra Kai. But anyone understandably ready to reject any attempt at "humanizing" him or creating empathy that could suck the venom out of his villainy can breathe a sigh of relief since that's not at all what's done here. Seeing the show tackle a supporting story like this in its own action-adventure style is kind of thrilling, with end result being a presentation of Kreese completely in line with our previous perceptions, yet surprising at the same time. 

Focusing on the volatile relationship between a young Kreese (Barrett Carnahan) and his commanding officer, Captain Turner (a menacing Terry Serpico), it encapsulates why the series is so successful by adding layers to stories and characters without detracting from what we already knew. The desire to understand "why" with Kreese was already there from the beginning, but now we can appreciate Martin Kove's work even more knowing that the writing has caught up to his performance, investing him with substantially more depth than the movies did. 

If Kreese's return to prominence stoked the flames of a dojo feud that was already boiling over after last season's incident, Cobra Kai's now emerged as something more closely resembling a cult for disaffected youths. If there's any criticism to be made of the season it would be that the crimes and assaults committed would result not only serious jail time for all involved, but some kind of charges against the damaged vet. Of course, doing that would damper the escapism of a story that actually does an entertaining job showing how he pulls the wool over the community's eyes, convincing them he's a pillar of society while Johnny and Daniel fume. 

The one character who does serve jail time, Robby, has a really rough go of it, having to not only fight for his survival, but reckon that what he did to Miguel may qualify him as even more like his father than he feared. And we all know Johnny's diabolical former sensei won't waste any time exploiting that rift. It might be Hawk who emerges as the true second coming of Johnny, a dangerous bully whose betrayal of former best friend Demetri (Gianni DeCenzo) has been one of the more underappreciated long-term arcs in the series. It's taken to a whole new level here, even as Hawk shows his first subtle signs of doubt about the direction Cobra Kai's taking. 

Showing less hesitation is Tory, whose troubled home life and anger over Miguel results in the most intriguing Sam LaRusso storyline yet, as she struggles to mentally rebound from last season's attack. And since Peyton List is so ferocious as Tory, it's even easier to understand Sam's paralyzing fear at the mere thought or sight of this girl. Theres' no question it's leading to a big showdown between the two, with Sam having to dig down deep to overcome her crippling anxiety. 

After a clever early episode fake-out, the moment everyone's been waiting for since Ali acceptied Johnny's friend request in last season's cliffhanger finally comes to fruition with Academy Award-nominated actress and 80's movie icon Elisabeth Shue's highly anticipated return to the franchise (Ep. 3.9, "Feel The Night"). While we suspected the possibility, it was far from a lock considering how well they kept her appearance a secret. But does it ever deliver, undoubtedly causing diehards like to jump out of their seats when she reenters the picture some thirty plus years later to discover the more things change, the more they don't. Our first instinct is to want to see her and Johnny back together, and while I'm not sure that wish changes after the two-episode arc, the writers manage to again subvert expectations by giving her a more important purpose. 

The Johnny and recently separated Dr. Ali reunion we've been clamoring for ends up being much more than a mere tease, with them basically picking up where they left off, until Daniel squeezes his way back in (Ep. 3.10,"December 19"). The country club Christmas party scenes that bring the three together for the first time in over three decades just might stand as the best work the series has done thus far, with both guys instantly reverting back to their high school selves in her presence, as if they weren't already halfway there anyway. 

Shue's terrific as a wiser, more experienced Ali, effortlessly sensible and likable in these scenes as the only adult in the room. Well, besides Amanda. who also attempts to bring Johnny and Daniel back to reality (between this and that great Kreese confrontation, this is Henggeler's best season as Amanda).  Lesser writing would have Daniel's wife consumed with jealousy or attempted to manufacture another triangle of some sort that will threaten their marriage, but the show's too smart for that. They both tease and torture both guys about it instead, forcing them to come to realization that they'll always be more alike than different, even if both are too stubborn to admit it. 

Recognizing that Johnny needs to "move on" and the writers are painted into a corner with Shue's limited availability, I'm still not quite sold on his relationship with Carmen. There's a lot work left to do there and if it seems impossible for diehards to endorse him ending up with anyone other than Ali, that's because it is. Still, they made the right decision under the circumstances so if this does ends up being a one-off and we never see her again (please, no!) credit the show for still overdelivering. Waiting the two seasons to bring her in paid off big, maximizing the impact of a return that couldn't have possibly gone any better.

Thanks to Ali, Johnny and Daniel now know exactly what they need to do, if only their egos can allow it. An alliance of some sort is what we've been building toward since this started, but Kreese's stranglehold has forced it, with Cobra Kai's actions putting the community on high alert and even threatening the continuation of the All Valley Karate tournament. A wild Christmas brawl to settle the score between Miyagi-Do, Cobra Kai and Johnny's fledgling Eagle Fan faction rivals last season's school fight, forcing Sam to face her fears, Miguel to test his health and Hawk to make a choice. But its Kreese's attempted poisoning of Robby's mind that ends up being a bridge too far for Johnny.

The sight of Daniel saving Johnny is comparable to what Star Wars fans experienced in the gasp-inducing final minutes of The Mandalorian's second season in that it's this franchise's finest hour in many years, bringing everything back around while still pushing the characters forward. Having the two rivals finally on the same side does feel right for the story at this point, but also well-earned since all the pieces were so carefully placed to get them there. Brilliantly juxtaposing this with the culmination of the Vietnam story puts viewers in the awkwardly thrilling position of seeing Kreese through two different lenses, which are ultimately one in the same. 

With his reckoning in Vietnam, a young Kreese lights a life-altering fuse that rots his soul, causing him to continuously replay that defining event under far different circumstances. In a way it explains everything, while laying the groundwork for the return of another familar character that indicates his war with Johnny and Daniel is far from over. The Karate Kid fans will need to pinch themselves that they're getting all this, but still may need a flowchart handy to track all the turns, betrayals, and shifts in allegiances that take place, all of which feel completely organic to the "Myagi-verse" that's emerged from within this series. While it's becoming repetitive to heap piles praise on each season before the next tops it, Cobra Kai's momentum not only shows no signs of slowing, it may just be getting started.

Palm Springs

Director Max Barbakow 
Starring: Andy Samberg, Cristin Milioti, J.K. Simmons, Peter Gallagher, Meredith Hagner, Camila Mendes, Tyler Hoechlin, Chris Pang, June Squibb, Jena Friedman, Dale Dickey
Running Time: 90 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

To its credit, Hulu original Palm Springs takes what's been becoming a fairly familiar premise and does a lot of things differently with it, directly addressing some little nagging problems that have always held the idea back. A character re-living the same day in a continuous time loop has, ironically enough, been repeated many times since its most famously successful iteration, 1993's Groundhog Day, to decidedly mixed results. That no film has come close to equaling it since does have a lot to do with the fact there's only one Bill Murray, but also the many self-imposed limitations filmmakers have put on the concept. 

Director Max Barbakow (working from a script by Andy Siara) doesn't box himself in like that, allowing this take to reach for heights those many imitators wouldn't. So even while Groundhog Day remains the benchmark in having most everything else beat in the romantic comedy department, this adds more than a few wrinkles to a certain type of movie we thought we had all figured out already. Its willingness to break rules we weren't conciously aware existed and its excellent use of two leads who have rarely been better, leads to a somewhat unique experience that taps into current events and feelings in ways that would barely register a few years ago. While they may not have known it before the cameras started rolling, if ever there was a more relevant time to release a film about two characters stuck repeating the same day, it's 2020. 

Nyles (Andy Samberg) has a problem that no one else seems aware of.  He's reliving the day of November 9th over and over again, waking up next to his girlfriend Misty (Meredith Hagner) in Palm Springs on the day she's serving as bridesmaid in her friend Tala's (Camila Mendes) wedding to Abe (Tyler Hoechlin). Drunk at the reception, Tala's sister Sarah (Cristin Milioti) watches as Nyles delivers the speech she's supposed to give and the two form a bond, going out to the desert together before he's unexpectedly attacked. Crawling injured into a nearby cave, he's sucked into some kind of a vortex, which she follows him into despite his warnings. 

The next day Sarah discovers the truth that it's actually the same day, and she's now stuck in this time loop he's been in. Failing to find a way out and having repeatedly committed suicide only to awaken in the same bed, Nyles now has a partner in crime, as the two wreck havoc and live for the moment knowing there won't be consequences to face. But that only lasts so long, as Sarah realizes she has as much reason to get out of this as he does for resigning to stay. Having finally found someone he wants to spend the rest of his days with, Nyles will have to decide if he wants to continue living in this seemingly neverending loop.  

Cleverly, the script makes sure Nyles' journey is already well underway by the time we meet him, even if we're not completely sure what that is yet. By sparing the viewer that overly familar set-up of discovering the protagonist's situation as he does, we get to see how this guy already has everything down to a science, having done this hundreds of times already. This leads to a great early gag with him on the dance floor at the wedding reception, anticipating the moves of every guest. 

The story doesn't get bogged down in needless expository descriptions of how or why this is happening, opting to show instead of tell, trusting we'll be onboard because Nyles is just too wacky and entertaining for us not to be. Basically, there's a cave with a time loop and that's it. Bucking the trend of this sub-genre, he's not the only one going through this, as Sarah's unwittingly dragged along for the ride, becoming for her and him to be a lot more fun than expected, at least until it isn't. 

The picture's peak comes when Nyles and Sarah fully exploit this new world devoid of consequences in a montage highlighting their debaucherous behavior, which take wildly different turns in completely different locations with a wide variety of hapless victims. Of course, all of this helps correct the problem this premise has always faced in having one person going at it alone and trying to convince everyone else in their vicinity of their plight, over and over again. Having two people in this situation really opens up creative possibilities that weren't there before, many of which Siara's script fully explores, allowing the characters to bounce off each other and mock everything and everyone around them, upping the hilarity level. 

Samberg and Milioti have great chemistry, with the former again proving his chops as a funnyman in no way distracts from his believability as a lead, albeit one more in the vein of fellow SNL alum Adam Sandler, when he's on his game. This is probably the most high profile feature role Milioti's had and she displays some quick timing and brings genuine likability to a character who isn't easy to embrace considering she's kind of a selfish trainwreck. If anything, this should hopefully further erase painful memories of her brief, creatively botched run as the title character in How I Met Your Mother, which did little to properly showcase her true comedic talents. 

The plot wouldn't be complete without a villain, wedding guest Roy, who's played by the great J.K. Simmons, even if that one-word description unfairly oversimplifies a role that's actually a lot more clever than it appears on the surface. He's one of the many ways the screenplay upends expectations, with the actor bringing a welcome crankiness and sarcasm to the proceedings. While he's one of the many complication arising in a Nyles and Sarah's relationship that wouldn't seem out of place in a more generic rom-com, the time loop plot at least makes it seem like anything but, continually raising the stakes.

That this manages to do something fresh here would be a victory in itself without the added resonance, even if I'm still not sure the resolution is completely what it could have been. It settles into a more traditional rom-com groove in its last act, making the movie seem slighter than it was midway, where it seemed destined, if not for greatness, at least cult status. But it's still a surprisingly original time loop movie from the moment it starts, as even our introduction to the idea feels novel, appreciating the audience's intelligence and never taking itself too seriously. It also doesn't fall back on the old trope that moral lessons must be learned for the characters to physically escape this. Of course, they both learn something anyway, but a more practical solution is presented that firmly puts the characters in charge of their own decisions and fates rather than being jerked around by the concept.

Palm Springs' top priority is to get laughs, and that it does, before unspooling a high concept story that makes those jokes and gags even funnier. It should seem obvious that the one thing you don't want to do with a movie that's plot revolves around repetition is make it "feel" repetitive with the same locations serving similar functions and the same people doing identical things,  But that's hard. This might be the only recent one of these to avoid that extremely common pitfall, more interested in the characters than the machinations of its own script.