Blog Archives
It Was Just an Accident (2025)
Iranian writer/director Jafar Panahi (The White Balloon, The Circle) is an example of an artist literally willing to put it all on the line for his art. He’s been banned by the authorities of Iran from making movies, and then Panahi secretly made a documentary of himself serving as a taxi driver in 2015. Scanning his filmography, all of his movies after 2000 were either made “illegally” or banned in his home country before their release. He was sentenced to a six-year prison sentence in 2022 and was released shortly after undergoing a hunger strike. Panahi filmed his latest movie, It Was Just an Accident, in secret without knowledge by the Iranian Authority, which makes sense considering how openly critical it is about the regime. It won the Palm D’or, the top prize, at the 2025 Cannes film festival and has been one of the most acclaimed movies of the year. It’s also likely going to make life much harder for Panahi, who was also sentenced in absentia by Iran to another prison sentence for “propaganda activities.” Yet his art persists, and It Was Just an Accident is easily one of the finest movies of 2025 and it’s no accident.
It begins simple enough. A middle-aged man and his family have car trouble after accidentally hitting a stray dog (sorry fellow animal lovers, but at least you don’t see it). They are taken into a nearby garage and that’s where the owner overhears the family man’s voice and then freezes in terror. He sounds EXACTLY like the man who interrogated and tortured him for the Iranian government years ago. Could it be the same man? How can he verify? And if so, what does he plan to do with his possible former captor?
What a brilliantly developed and executed movie this is, taking a concept that’s easy to plug right into no matter the language and cultural barriers, and then to unfold in such contemplative, bold, and unexpected ways. It captures mordant laughter, poignant human drama, and a nerve-wracking thrills. Most of all it’s terribly unexpected. As more and more people get brought in on the kidnapping, and more reveal their personal trauma from their shared captor, I really didn’t know what the fate would be for anyone. Would they kill this man? If so, what would that say and how would they view themselves after? If not, what lessons might they have learned from this ordeal and what lessons might their former captor have learned? It really kept me guessing and because it’s so exceptionally well developed and written, the script could have gone in any direction and I would have likely found satisfaction. There’s even the question over whether or not all these people are mistaken and projecting their fury onto an innocent man. However, I will say, the movie flirts with Coen-essque dark comedy, almost at a farcical level for its first half as these amateurs stumble their way through a kidnapping plot they are not equipped to control (a woman is stuck in her wedding dress for the entirety of these vigilante deliberations). Then in its second half it transitions into a really affecting moral drama about the lengths of trauma and the desire for forgiveness as a key point toward processing grief and preparing oneself to move forward. Even though the circumstances are specific to Iran, the movie is emblematic of accountability and reconciliation, and those elements can be easily empathized with no matter one’s cultural borders.
As you might expect, this is a movie brimming with anger, but it’s not suffused with bitterness, which is a remarkable feat given its subject matter. This is a movie that unfolds like a crime thriller, with each scene unlocking a better understanding of a hidden shared history. Each new character provides a larger sense of a bigger picture of oppressive state control and abuses, with each new person adding to the chorus of complaints. Naturally, many of these victims want to seek the harshest retribution possible for a man who tortured them with impunity. It’s easy to summon intense feelings of outrage and to demand vengeance. The filmmakers have other ideas in mind that aren’t quite as tidy. It’s easy to be consumed by anger, by outrage, that surging sense of righteous indignation filling you with vibrant purpose. It’s another matter to work through one’s anger rather than simply serve it. I’m reminded of the masterful 2021 movie Mass, a small indie about two groups of parents having a lengthy conversation; it just so happens one couple’s son was killed in a school shooting and the other couple’s son was the gunman responsible. It was a remarkably written movie (seriously, go watch it) and a remarkably empathetic movie for every character. It’s easy to pick sides of right and wrong, but it’s so much more engaging, intriguing, but also humane to find the foundations of connections, that every person lives with their own regrets and guilt and doubts. It Was Just an Accident follows a similar moral edict. Every character is a person, and every person is deserving of having their perspective better known, and we are better having given them this grace.
I think the movie is also especially prescient about this time and place in American history. It very well may prove a sign of the future, detailing a populace of the abused and traumatized and the former aggressors who worked for an authoritarian agent and administered cruel violence to cruel ends. It’s not difficult to see a version of this movie set in, say, 2035 America, with a ragtag group of characters discovering a retired ICE agent who they all have an antagonistic relationship with. In many ways the movie is about Iran and its history of an oppressive government turning on its own people, but in many ways it can also be about any system of power abusing that power to inflict fear and repudiation. It’s about a reckoning, and that’s why I think while the movie is clearly of its culture and time it’s very easy to apply the movie’s lessons and themes and larger ideas to any country, It’s all about characters coming to terms with harm and accountability, and sometimes it takes a long time after the fact for the perpetrators to accept that harm has been done, especially if they can fall on the morally indefensible “just following orders” defense. In the near future, will ICE agents, especially the ones who joined up after Trump took office for the second time, argue the same as the Nazis at Nuremberg? Will they rationalize their actions as just fulfilling a job to pay a mortgage? It might even be overly optimistic to believe a reckoning would even occur in the not-so-distant future, not to the profile of the Nuremberg trials but even just an individual accounting of individual wrongdoing. That assumes an acceptance of wrong and ostensibly a sincere request for forgiveness. As I write this, with an ICE officer whisked away to the protective bosom of federal government after executing a woman shortly after dropping her child off at school, it’s difficult for me to even accept that those in power and so eager to impose their bottomless grievances upon the vulnerable and innocent would ever allow themselves to accept the possibility of blame or regret. But then again this is perhaps what the citizens of Iran felt and they’re presently marching in the thousands to protest their authoritarian government in 2026, so maybe there’s hope yet for we Americans in 2026 too.
There is a deliberate sense to every minute of It Was Just an Accident, from its long takes to its interlocking sense of discovery, to the questions it raises, answers, and leaves for you to ponder. It’s a movie that drops you into a fully-realized world with rich characters that reveal themselves over time. If there’s one pressing moral for Panahi, I think it’s that every person matters, even the ones we’re told have less value. This is an insightful, searing, and ultimately compassionate cry for justice and empathy. It will be just as effective no matter the date you watch it, but with a movie this good, why wait?
Nate’s Grade: A
The Secret Agent (2025)
The Secret Agent is a hard movie to fully categorize. It’s set in 1977 Brazil and with its title you might think it’s about some clandestine espionage operation or fighting against a corrupt government, and it does fit those descriptions but not in a traditional Hollywood way. We follow Wagner Moura (Narcos, Civil War) as a former grant-supported energy scientist who comes to clash with a powerful businessman who then hires an assassination team to kill this know-it-all. It’s also about entrenched police corruption and coverups, a found family of people seeking protection and new lives, the search for memory and proof of life, a father wanting to connect with his son in the wake of his mother’s death, and then there’s a running story about a severed leg that goes into the wildest, most unexpected places. It is a leisurely paced movie at almost two hours and forty minutes in length, but each scene is its own luxurious moment to dwell in. Take for instance the opening scene where Moura drives his car to a dusty, rural gas station and finds a dead body covered in newspaper. Nobody wants to come claim the corpse, and then the police do arrive but they take particular interest in Moura, wanting to search his car and ask him questions. Do they know something? Who is this man? A similar early scene involves the police investigating a dead shark where a severed human leg was found inside its mouth, and the way it unfolds and escalates is so naturally fascinating. The Secret Agent juggles many different tones, from nostalgic drama to crime thriller, but every scene is so expertly written and paced by writer/director Kleber Mendoca Filho (Aquarius, Pictures of Ghosts). You may grow weary by its length, but when I was in every scene, I didn’t want it to end because it feels so well-realized in its moment. There’s a subversive switch-out with its climax that reminded me of No Country for Old Men, and the ending coda ties together the flash-forwards and hits hard with the theme of uncovering and honoring the past. This is a lot of movie, much of it I admired more than I outright loved, but it’s such a fascinating balancing act that I would recommend The Secret Agent as a sprawling dive into Brazilian history, culture, and its own political reckoning.
Nate’s Grade: B+
Hamnet (2025)
It’s the sad Shakespeare movie, and with Paul Mescal (Gladiator II) as Will, it could just as easily be dubbed the Sad Sexy Shakespeare movie. Hamnet is a fictionalized account of Will and his wife Agnes (Jessie Buckley) processing the death of their young son, Hamnet, which we’re told in opening text is a common name transference for Hamlet. Right away, even before co-writer/director Chloe Zhao (Nomadland, Eternals) brings her usual stately somberness, you know what kind of movie you’re in for. It’s pretty (and famous) people in pain. The entire time I was watching this kid Hamnet and just waiting for the worst. It doesn’t arrive until 75 minutes into the movie, and it’s thoroughly devastating, especially the circumstances surrounding the loss. This is less a Shakespeare movie and more a Mrs. Shakespeare movie, which is more illuminating since she’s typically overshadowed by her verbose husband. She’s an intriguing figure who shares some witchy aspects, communing with nature and even foretelling her future husband’s greatness and dying with only two living children, which presents a pall when she has three eventual children. Once Will finds success as a London playwright, he feels like an absentee father and husband, briefly coming in and out of his family’s life in Stratford. However, the final act is what really doesn’t seal the movie for me. I don’t think it’s really a spoiler to admit the final 15 minutes of the movie is basically watching Hamlet performed on stage, with Agnes as the worst audience member, frequently talking through the show and loudly harassing the actors before finally succumbing to the artistry of the play and finding it a fitting outlet for her grief. In short, the movie is meant to provide more personal insight and tragedy into this famous play, asking the viewer to intuit more meaning (“Oh, Hamlet is his dead son, Hamnet! I get it”), but ultimately the ending is just watching Hamlet. I don’t feel like we get any meaningful insight into William Shakespeare as a person besides his irritation at being a Latin teacher, and frustratingly, Agnes is constrained as well, held in a narrow definition of the grieving mother. This is a shame since she showed such fire and individuality in the first half. Buckley (The Lost Daughter) is terrific, ethereal, earthy, and heartbreaking and a shoo-in for an Oscar. I found her final moments, especially reaching out to her son, so to speak, especially poignant. Hamnet is a good-looking, well-acted movie about sad famous people who then rely upon the arts to help heal their gulf of sadness. There’s not much more to Hamnet than that, but with such exceptional professionals and artists at the ready, it might be more than enough for most.
Nate’s Grade: B-
Marty Supreme (2025)
Marty Supreme is like the Oscar bait version of 2019’s Uncut Gems. Director/co-writer Josh Safdie, one half of the Safdie brothers that literally gave us Uncut Gems, has applied that same panic attack-inducing formula to a more broadly friendly combination of elements (example: this movie doesn’t open on a colonoscopy). Timothee Chalamet plays the titular Marty, a young man in 1952 New York City with a dream of being the best ping pong player on the world stage. He’s so supremely confident of his abilities that he never seems to plan beyond the immediacy. He’s a born hustler, and the majority of this 150-minute exercise is watching him work multiple schemes to gather the funds to secure a plane ticket to Japan. Reminiscent of Uncut Gems, it’s a movie of antic episodic events, with a charismatic but self-destructive lead spinning collapsing scheme upon collapsing scheme, one ending while another begins, and struggling to keep them all spinning and paying out. It makes for a frantic, propulsive experience, and even though there are some shady characters eventually and threats of violence, the stakes feel less dramatic and therefore more accessible to endure for so long. This is the kind of movie where, upon finally getting an item that will pay for that ticket, Marty’s own uncompromising hedonism has to be satiated in that moment of supposed triumph, all for it to get taken away again. In many ways, Marty is his own worst enemy when it comes to actually achieving his goals.
The whole thing is built upon the performance of Chalamet, who dominates the movie. There’s maybe five total minutes where Marty isn’t on screen. It’s a movie that needs a charismatic anchor. Chalamet digs in as the smooth-talking, impulsive, manipulative con man literally looking for his big ticket to stardom. It’s a brash performance of bravado, and it’s easy to get carried away by the actor, or at least intrigued to see how Marty is going to get out of all these crazy jams of his. The whole movie kind of takes a note from its lead to be bold. There’s digressions upon digressions. There’s key supporting roles for Tyler the Creator and Kevin O’Leary, yes, the bald guy from Shark Tank. There’s an opening credits sequence following sperm fertilizing an egg. The last 20 minutes is almost all ping pong action. There’s anachronistic music throughout. It’s remarkable how much of it works, but the frantic, anxious nature of the plotting covers up the hollowness of Marty. Perhaps he’s always yammering because a second of silence could force introspection. I don’t know if this man is capable of reflection, despite what the final image might infer. It’s a wild, whirling, consistently surprising movie that blends in so many characters and incidents to keep you entertained, but I don’t know if, much like Marty, there’s anything deeper under the surface of that desperation
Nate’s Grade: B
Bugonia (2025)
A remake of a 2003 South Korean movie, Bugonia is an engaging conflict that needed further restructuring and smoothing out to maximize its entertainment potential. Jessie Plemons stars as a disturbed man beholden to conspiracy theories, namely that the Earth is populated with aliens among us that are plotting humanity’s doom. He kidnaps his corporate boss, a cold and cutthroat CEO (Emma Stone), who he is convinced is really an Andromedan and can connect him with the other aliens. The problem here is that the story can only go two routes. Either Plemons’ character is just a dangerous nutball and has convinced himself of his speculation and this will lead to tragic results, or his character will secretly be right despite the outlandish nature and specificity of his conspiracy claims. Once you accept that, it should become more clear which path offers a more memorable and interesting story. The appeal of this movie is the tense hostage negotiation where this woman has to wonder how to play different angles to seek her freedom from a deranged kidnapper. Both actors are at their best when they’re sparring with one another, but I think it was a mistake to establish so much of Plemons and his life before and during the kidnapping. I think the perspective would have been improved following Stone from the beginning and learning as she does, rather than balancing the two sides in preparation. The bleak tone is par for a Yorgos Lanthimos (Poor Things) movie but the attempts at humor, including some over-the-top gore as slapstick, feel more forced and teetering. I never found myself guffawing at any of the absurdity because it’s played more for menace. The offbeat reality that populates a Lanthimos universe is too constrained to the central characters, making the world feel less heightened and weird and therefore the characters are the outliers. I enjoyed portions of this movie, and Stone’s performance has so many layers in every scene, but Bugonia feels like an engaging premise that needed more development and focus to really get buggy.
Nate’s Grade: B-
Wicked: For Good (2025)
To paraphrase a famous debate line, I knew Wicked, Wicked was one of my top films of 2024, and you, Wicked: For Good, are no Wicked. Obviously that’s not completely true as For Good is the second half of the adaptation of the popular Broadway musical, of which only the first act compromised the prior movie released a year ago. The problem was that the first Wicked movie felt complete, and had there never been another second after, it would have served as a fitting and even moving portrait of the unknown back-story to the Wicked Witch of the West and the implied propaganda that would taint the perception of the citizens of Oz. The movie was two hours and forty minutes but it felt extremely well-paced and developed. It felt, more or less, complete, even though I know it was only adapting half the musical. In short, it did too good of a job, and now Wicked: For Good suffers as a sequel because what’s left to tell just isn’t as compelling or as emotionally or thematically coherent as its charming predecessor. Plus, all the banger songs were clearly in the first movie.
After the events of the first movie, Elphaba (Cynthia Erivio) has assumed the mantle of the Wicked Witch of the West and is sabotaging the Wizard of Oz’s (Jeff Goldblum) plans at expansion and animal abuse. Glinda (Ariana Grande) is the Wizard’s public ambassador and the “good witch” to inspire the masses, even though she doesn’t possess actual magical abilities. Glinda wishes dearly that Elphaba will change her mind and decide to work with her and the Wizard. However, Elphaba wants to expose corruption, and the Wizard is at the top of her list of the corrupt and powerful needing to be toppled for good.
For Good suffers from the adaptation struggles the 2024 Wicked film was able to avoid. The first movie was an effervescent treat built upon a poignant friendship and some killer songs given the full showstopper visual treatment. It was a vibrant adaptation, and while it expanded upon the stage show significantly, the extra time with the characters felt like breathing space, and it all contributed to what felt to me like an extremely well paced and well developed and arguably complete movie experience. Now the second act of a musical is almost always the shorter of the two, and For Good is about 30 minutes shorter than its predecessor. The filmmakers even added two new songs for Oscar eligibility and further padding, neither of which are winners (more on the songs later in the review). That sense of care is not present in For Good, as characters are frustratingly repeating beats they already worked through. Take for instance Glinda, who begins the first movie as an entitled popular girl used to getting her own way, and by the end of the movie, she’s grown to see the world differently and through her sisterly friendship with Elphaba, she has a more empathetic and grounded perspective. She has already changed for the better, and yet in For Good it feels like the movie kicks her character growth backwards. She has to again learn that maybe the Wizard and others are not the best people in charge just because they are. Wicked is a victim of its own success. The character development and arc was so well realized in the first movie that Glinda feels like she’s repeating lessons she’s already learned. I also don’t buy Elphaba being seriously tempted by the Wizard’s offer of collaboration after all she experienced and learned earlier. It’s irksome to have the characters seem curiously different from where we left them in 2024’s Wicked. There is also a character relationship revelation that I and many others had figured out FROM THE OPENING SCENE of the first movie. Behold, dear reader, For Good doesn’t even address this until the last twenty minutes of the movie and it does absolutely nothing with this revelation. I was flabbergasted.
The biggest time-waster and padding is when Wicked drags The Wizard of Oz characters and plot incidents awkwardly into its own universe. Granted, the entire enterprise is supposed to be the unknown back-story for the villain of The Wizard of Oz which gives it its identity. Except Dorothy and her lot are not essential at all to telling this story, as evident with the sense that the 2024 Wicked could feel complete. Dorothy and her motley crew of locals, some of whom are made up of previously established characters, are given the Rosencrantz and Gildenstern treatment, meaning they’re primarily kept off-screen and incidental. You don’t even see Dorothy’s face once. These characters feel annoyingly tacked-on and inconsequential to the story we’ve already spent three hours with. They’re knowing nods for the audience and they’re also making efforts to better pad out the running time. I don’t fully comprehend their importance in this new retelling. The treacherous Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh) sees the presence of Dorothy as an advantageous development, like she can use her as a Chosen One to thwart Elphaba. It’s never remotely explained why this makes sense. Why this person versus any other Oz citizen? Dorothy possesses special shoes but we’ve seen what can be accomplished with them. They’re not really some superpower or a weapon, more an item of personal attachment for Elphaba she would like returned. In this retelling, the entire inclusion of Dorothy and her friends is a means to an end for a public ruse. It might seem odd to say this Wizard of Oz back-story would have been better minus Dorothy but there it is.
Now it’s time to discuss the actual songs for this movie musical. The best known and most popular tunes were all in the first act and thus the first movie. The songs for For Good are a combination of middling ballads and continuation of the leitmotifs and themes of the previous one. There’s perhaps a bigger emotional current when characters bring back melodies and lyrics from the first movie to expand or contrast, like “I’m Not That Girl.” Did you want another song with Goldblum singing? The biggest number is “For Good” where Elphaba and Glinda face off and admit their shared sisterly love for one another, but again this was already established by the end of 2024’s Wicked. It’s more explicitly stated through song but the sentiment was evident to me already. Adding further disappointment, returning director John M. Chu (Into the Heights, Crazy Rich Asians) lacks the same thoughtful staging of the musical numbers in this edition. He is a filmmaker who innately knows how to adapt stage musicals into the medium of film, and he did so splendidly with 2024’s Wicked. With For Good, the staging lacks a real immersion and visual dynamism, often murky or overly saturated, like “No Good Deed” being performed almost entirely with intrusive sunsetting silhouettes dominating the screen. The less engaging songs, added with less engaging visual staging, make the movie feel longer and less jubilant. I don’t know if “For Good” has the intended emotional crescendo simply because this movie isn’t nearly as good.
As a personal note, the 2024 Wicked was the last movie I saw in theaters with my father while he was alive. We were supposed to see Gladiator II together as a family after Thanksgiving but he wasn’t feeling up to it, and then a little more than two weeks later he was unresponsive. I’m happy Wicked was such a pleasant and enjoyable experience for him, but as we left the theater, he asked me, “Wasn’t there supposed to be more?” We had seen the stage show when it toured through our city many years ago, and I remarked that there was going to be a whole second movie adapting the second act of the musical and it was going to be released in a year. He nodded and I felt the silent acknowledgement shared between us: he would not be around to see the conclusion, that it was a future unavailable to him. So it’s hard for me to not have some melancholy feelings with For Good, and I’ll admit maybe that’s influencing my critique.
Wicked: For Good is a frustrating, disappointing extension of what had been a sterling and magical original movie. It doesn’t outright ruin what came before it but confirms for me that 2024’s Wicked could stand on its own. The songs aren’t as good. The staging and visuals aren’t as good. The character development feels repeated and occasionally confounding. The plotting is stretched and unsatisfying. The inclusion of the more direct Wizard of Oz characters feels arbitrary and unnecessary. The actors are still charming and affecting and sing wonderfully, but they’re also unable to defy the gravity of the material they’re stuck with. If you’re a super fan of the source material, albeit the original story by L. Frank Baum, the 1939 Wizard of Oz movie, the Gregory Maguire book, the 2000s stage musical, or even the first movie, you will probably find enough to sing along to and walk away fairly happy. I loved the 2024 Wicked and was left mostly cold at the concluding half but I realize I very well may be a curmudgeonly minority here. My advice would be to consider the 2024 Wicked a complete movie and skip For Good.
Nate’s Grade: C+
One Battle After Another (2025)
Over his thirty-year career, writer/ director Paul Thomas Anderson (PTA) has developed a mystique and reputation like few other auteurs working in cinema. He’s a visionary filmmaker whose first few movies count among my favorites of all time (Boogie Nights, Magnolia) and whose latter output can leave me shrugging and sighing (Licorice Pizza, Inherent Vice, The Master). My decade-plus-long observational bon mot has been that Anderson decided to make amends for his plot-heavy early movies with more airy, far less plotted vibes-movies. One Battle After Another is something far different from Anderson. He’s making his own version of a $150-million studio action movie, with big ideas and Leonardo DiCaprio as lead (DiCaprio has long regretted passing on Dirk Diggler, still Mark Wahlberg’s acting high-point, so thanks Leo). PTA is using the big-budget storytelling of action cinema to tell something new and personal and politically relevant behind all the gunfire and daring car chases. It’s been dubbed the movie of the moment and perhaps the one to beat for the 2025 Academy Awards. Now that I’ve finally watched all 150 minutes of Anderson’s opus, I’m not as high on it as others but do acknowledge it is a thrilling, engrossing, and occasionally frustrating work from a visionary artist.
Bob (DiCaprio) used to run with a leftist military group known as the French 75. He fell in love with Perfidia (Teyana Taylor), one of the leaders of the group, and together they had a baby, little Willa. Perfidia runs off, unable to settle down, leaving Bob to raise their daughter under a different identity. Sixteen years later, that old life comes back to Bob. It so happens Colonel Steven J. Lockjaw (Sean Penn) had an ongoing sexual tryst with Perfidia during one of their stings. There’s a chance that Willa (Chase Infiniti), now a teenager wanting to live a normal life, is actually his biological daughter. He needs to capture her under any circumstance and possibly dispose of her in order to be admitted to an exclusive white supremacist cabal within the U.S. government. Bob is forced back to action to find and protect Willa but he’s not exactly in the best shape. He’s been a burnout for so long. Can he now be a hero?
While the movie was filmed throughout 2024, and supposedly has been in the works for over twenty years by Anderson, One Battle After Another feels extremely timely and relatable in these troubled political days of ours (even the title expresses what it’s like to get up and try and process the daily barrage of horrifying news in this Trump Administration 2.0 Era). Anderson’s screenplay, loosely adapted from Thomas Pynchon’s 1990 novel Vineland, proposes a right-wing U.S. government swept up in fascist impulses that is highly militarized and declares war on immigration, rounding up primarily Hispanic men, women, and children and locking them away in camps. It’s also a law enforcement unit that pose as protestors to create a rationale for enacting physical violence and intimidation against peaceful protestors. At the core is a secret society of white supremacists running the show. Short of a concurrent documentary, it will be harder to find a movie more politically topical to the status of life in 2025, especially for the many shaking their heads and wondering how exactly we got here. Pynchon’s original novel was about the transformation of 1960s America to the 1980s, and it feels highly relevant to our 2025 times where there yet again seems to be great upheaval and conflict over those in power operating said power against the governed. It’s impossible to watch One Battle After Another and not think about the headlines. It’s not exactly the escapism many might be seeking. There’s never been a leftist paramilitary group as organized and as successful as the French 75 (they have their own affiliated convent – nuns with guns). The movie isn’t leftist wish-fulfillment to take down the current administration. It’s more a father-daughter battle to reunite in the face of state terror. It certainly has its fiery political commentary, but it’s more a family striving to stay together.
I did quite enjoy that the movie undercuts Bob as our hero, using him more as an entry point into other characters in this story, others who have a much larger impact and prove more capable. The character of Bob serves as a gateway for the other characters to really take over and shine, and it’s smart to use the familiar archetype of the old gunslinger being called back into action past his prime to atone for the sins of the past. We’ve seen this kind of character before, but Bob is kind of hapless and far out of his depth, and it makes the movie so much more entertaining. The rest of the movie exists in a more familiar action-thriller setting, albeit with some fun house mirror edges for pointed satire, but Bob is this bumbling, stumbling dope from a stoner comedy whose been copy-pasted into a different genre. He provided explosives for the French 75 but that doesn’t mean he’s got a wealth of clandestine knowledge and cunning at his disposal, especially since he’s normally inebriated. Now sixteen years later, the archetype would typically have to pull out their old skills that have calcified over a long hibernation, but Bob doesn’t have those skills. When he has an opportunity to take the big heroic shot, he misses. When he has the opportunity to make a daring escape, he falls off the side of a building. When he has to remember the coded exchanges of old, he can’t remember all of the parts. The climax doesn’t really even involve him as he’s playing catch-up for most of the extended conclusion. He’s more like the Big Lebowski waking up in, say, No Country for Old Men and desperately seeking shelter.
However, Anderson’s empathy for his characters of all stripes shines through, and while Bob is presented as diminished or bumbling, he’s not a complete moron without any redeeming qualities. His most resounding positive quality is his complete dedication and love for his daughter. We’ve seen this kind of story before, the overbearing parental figure trying to drill their child to be prepared for when danger inevitably arises, and the child growing resentful and distant to the parent because of that demanding and limiting home life. Then trouble strikes and the child has to rely upon those seasoned skills they practiced while that paranoid and obsessive adult was ultimately proven right for their unorthodox parenting. Bob’s love for Willa is what has shaped his life for these past sixteen years. He’s the parent who stayed, the one who settled from his old life to take on the responsibility of raising a child as a new life. He’s the one who changed her diapers, the one who shows up for parent-teacher conferences even if it’s to lecture the teachers about the curriculum while lighting up a joint. His love for his daughter is the thing that drives him forward and keeps him going. You feel that love between them, and in the climax of the movie, it becomes something poignant about the connection between these two over such extreme circumstances. There’s an ongoing question over the paternity of Willa but this never for a second changes Bob’s view of his daughter or his willingness to do anything to save her. If he was a Liam Neeson-styled master spy with a particular set of skills, the journey wouldn’t feel as rewarding. With Bob being punched down by the universe again and again but still going, it makes us root for him more.
Penn is completely enthralling as Lockjaw. His danger is never downplayed, and he’s frequently shown as a man who will use his considerable means of power to get what he wants, but Anderson also finds interesting ways to lampoon him and complicate him. I loved that the secret white supremacist society Lockjaw is so eager to join is called the Christmas Adventurers Club. It’s so stupidly anodyne that it sounds like a rejected title for a Boxcar Children novel. The members even pledge, “Merry Christmas. Hail Saint Nick.” It’s so stupid but so are many of the associative slogans of these right-wing groups (I learned the Proud Boys are named after a cut song from Disney’s animated Aladdin, “Proud of Your Boy,” and no I am not kidding). These men are indeed dangerous but they’re also not insurmountable, and I think that’s an important distinction. They’re small, angry, racist men trying to forcibly reshape the world but they are a minority of a minority clinging to power to reject progressive reforms. Lockjaw’s big problem is that he has a tremendous attraction to African-American women, the type of people he should see as inferior. The movie’s momentum is kicked into gear all because Lockjaw wants to be accepted in this special club. Penn is incredible in how he brings to life the snarling contradictions of this man, someone so aggressively challenging but who is also given to gnawing insecurities. Even the way Penn holds his body and walks is an indication of who this man is, with stick firmly planted in rear. He’s scary but he is also stupid, a fine encapsulation of our present political quandary. I’d expect him to be the current front-runner for Best Supporting Actor at the Oscars but it is still plenty early for predictions.
I do wish those engaging supporting characters had more to do besides Lockjaw. Even at 150 minutes, there isn’t much development for Willa to really grow as a character. She’s the target for the chase, and she’s the one trying to understand what is happening as it happens. It would make sense for her to have been the protagonist as she has the most to learn. For far too much of the movie she’s just a passive passenger, being shipped from one location to another. I wish we had more moments to really grapple with her perspective and her shifting opinion about her father and his past. I do enjoy that she’s the real star of the climax but at that point I wished we had seen far more of her resilience and determination and making use of what her father had been teaching her, not simply trading coded conversations. If she is the future, the possibility of turning this world around as someone declares by film’s end, then maybe let’s spend a little more time with her being active and reflective and taking more ownership of her survival. It’s as much her movie as it is Bob’s but he gets far more generous screen time over those 150 minutes.
The same can be said for Willa’s mother, Perfidia. I never found her that interesting as a character. She’s a true-born revolutionary from a family of revolutionaries, but some part of her is drawn back to Lockjaw, whether it’s simply the transactional exchange of sex for protection and assurances, or maybe something more, perhaps the power play of dominance over the very kind of bad men in power she wanted to control. She runs away from a domestic life with baby Willa because she knows she’s ill-suited for it. From there, she gets captured and turns on her former comrades to enter Witness Protection, which she runs away from. I kept waiting for her to resurface in a meaningful way in the story since we’re shown that she escapes into Mexico (Lockjaw lies that he killed her rather than admit she ran off). However, Anderson only utilizes the character as a catalyst, a means of entangling the two men into a paternal showdown. It’s disappointing that Perfidia is reduced to such a nothing of a character when there was much to explore.
And now comes the part of the review where we talk about Anderson’s bold leap into action filmmaking. He’s not the first prestige indie darling to make a grand genre jump into action-thriller bravado. One thinks of Sam Mendes tackling Skyfall with aplomb, Paul Greengrass with the Bourne series, Patty Jenkins going from Monster to Wonder Woman, Lee Issac Chung going from Minari to Twisters, and of course the big man himself, Christopher Nolan. It can be done with the right filmmaker understanding the key tenets of action, in particular how to connect the various set pieces and conflicts with the characters and their emotional state and chain of needs and priorities. I was impressed with Anderson’s sense of scope and his ability to wring tension. There aren’t really many strict action scenes. Much ink has been spilled on the climactic chase that utilizes a series of rolling hills as the focal point of this battle, and it’s immersive and exciting and different. I’d also be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed by it. This is because this sequence, up until the very very end, is all about one car tailing another. It’s taut and extremely well photographed, but ultimately it amounts to two cars following one another until one clever conclusion. It’s not really a sequence that changes and finds organic complications. It has the makings of a great action sequence but stalls. I thought back to 2014’s Snowpiercer and the sniper shooting match at two different points in the train, where each participant was waiting for the train to curve just so to better facilitate their shot. That was geography as advantage. Overall, Anderson is definitely making his version of an action movie but I don’t feel like he’s fully committed to the planning and development of those sequences. It feels more like ironic subversion when the genuine article would have been more appealing and impactful and just novel.
While One Battle After Another doesn’t rise to the capital-M masterpiece that so many of my critical brethren are falling over themselves to proclaim, it is a good movie with bold artistic swings. It thrums with energy and empathy. It’s probably PTA’s most accessible movie since There Will Be Blood or arguably Boogie Nights. I enjoyed the different characters and the brimming conflict and how much of the movie is grounded on the character relationships and their perspectives. There is a clear command of craft here like every PTA movie. He’s definitely passionate about bringing this world to life, which is eerily relevant to our own politically tumultuous times, but he still finds room for satirical mockery that doesn’t diminish the tension of the villains. It’s a universe I wanted more explanation and exploration, and the most interesting character by far is Benicio del Toro as a humble town sensei who is at the forefront of an immigrant underground railroad. I was never bored and often quite entertained but I stepped away wanting more, and maybe that’s greedy of me or an entitlement of the viewer. One Battle After Another flashes such terrific intrigue and personality that I wanted more refinement and development to better accentuate its mighty potential.
Nate’s Grade: B
Saturday Night (2024)/ September 5 (2024)
Recently two ensemble dramas were thought to have awards potential that never materialized, and I think I might know at least one reason why: they are both undone by decisions of scope to focus on either a single day or a 90-minute period to encapsulate their drama.
With Saturday Night, we follow show creator Loren Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle) the night before the premiere episode of the iconic sketch TV series, Saturday Night Live. The story is told in relative real time covering the last 90 minutes before its initial 11:30 PM EST debut in 1975. We watch Michaels try and deal with squabbling cast members, striking union members, failing technology, his ex-wife (Rachel Sennot) who also happens to be a primary producer of the show, muppets, and studio bosses that are doubtful whether this project will ever make it to air. I understand in essence why the real-time setting is here to provide more pressure and urgency as Michaels is literally running out of time. The problem is that we know the show will be a success, so inventing doubtful older TV execs to add extra antagonists feels like maybe the framing by itself was lacking. Think about Air but you added a fictional exec whose only purpose was to say, “I don’t think this Michael Jordan guy will ever succeed.” There are interesting conflicts and subplots, especially with the different groups that Michaels has to manage, but when it’s all stuffed in such a tight time frame, rather than making the movie feel more chaotic and anxious, it makes those problems and subplots feel underdeveloped or arbitrary. I would relish a behind-the-scenes movie about SNL history but the best version of that would be season 11, the “lost season,” when Michaels came back to save the show and there were legitimate discussions over whether to cancel the show. Admittedly, we would already know the show survives, but does the public know what happened to people like Terry Sweeney and Danitra Vance? Does the public know what kind of sacrifices Michaels had to make? That’s the SNL movie we deserve. Alas, Saturday Night is an amiable movie with fun actors playing famous faces, but even the cast conflicts have to be consolidated to the confined time frame. This is a clear-cut example where the setting sabotages much of what this SNL movie could have offered for its fans.
With September 5, we remain almost entirely in the control room of ABC Sports as they cover the fateful 1972 Munich Olympics after the Israeli athletes are taken hostage by terrorists. It’s a subject covered in plenty of other movies, including Steven Spielberg’s Munich and the 1999 Oscar-winning documentary One Day in September, but now we’re watching it from the perspective of the journalists thrust into the spotlight to try and cover an important and tragic incident as it plays out by the hour. It’s an interesting perspective and gives voice to several thorny ethical issues, like when the news team is live broadcasting an oncoming police assault, which the terrorists can watch and prepare for as well. The movie is filmed in a suitable docu-drama style and the pacing is as swift as the editing, and that’s ultimately what holds me back from celebrating the movie more. It’s an interesting anecdote about media history, but September 5 fails to feel like a truly insightful addition to the history and understanding of this tragedy. It’s so focused on the people in the studio and restrained to this one day that it doesn’t allow for us to really dwell or develop in the consequences of this day as well as the consequences of their choices on this fateful day. The movie feels like a dramatization of a select batch of interviews from a larger, more informative documentary on the same subject. It’s well-acted and generally well-written, though I challenge people to recall any significant detail of characters besides things like “German translator” and “Jewish guy.” It’s a worthy story but one that made me wish I could get a fuller picture of its impact and meaning. Instead, we get a procedural about a ragtag group of sports journalists thrust into a global political spotlight. There’s just larger things at stake, including the inherent drama of the lives at risk, than if they’ll get the shot.
Nate’s Grades:
Saturday Night: C+
September 5: B
A Real Pain (2024)
A funny, poignant, and surprisingly gentle movie about two cousins going on a journey to retrace their family history and honor that legacy while trying to reconcile their privileged connection to that past. Written and directed by Jesse Eisenberg, who also stars as David, a generally normal family man traveling with his much more jubilant and troubled cousin, Benji (Kieran Culkin). They’re on a tour through Poland and visiting infamous Holocaust historical sites, ultimately finding their grandmother’s home she fled so many decades ago. The cousins are dramatically different; David is timid and anxiety-ridden, and Benji is the life of any party, an impulsive yet charming people-person. The tour is meant to draw them closer together, to each other, to their shared historical roots, but it might also make them realize what cannot be reconciled. This is an unassuming little movie about a couple characters chafing and growing through their interactions, getting a better understanding of one another and what makes them tick. It’s really the Benji show, and Culkin is terrific, effortlessly charming and funny but with a real tinge of sadness underlying his garrulous energy. There’s real pain behind the surface of this character that he’s trying so hard to mask, though it appears in fleeting moments of vulnerability. Benji causes the various characters along the tour to think differently about their own situations, their own connections to the past, including his cousin, and ultimately makes the journey feel worthwhile. At a tight 90 minutes, A Real Pain is a small movie about big things, and Eisenberg has a nimble touch as writer/director to make he time spent with strangers feel insightful and rewarding.
Nate’s Grade: B+


















You must be logged in to post a comment.