I don’t really believe in the notion that some types of movies are “lesser” forms of art than others. Better writers and teachers of film will tell you that some movies are inherently more important than others. I’m not really arguing with that, but I’m also going to ultimately tell you that the films you consider cinema are indeed cinema. As far as you’re concerned.

Where I start to get cranky is when people tell me that I must consider your favorite films to be cinema or high art (or whatever you call it). This insistence is becoming increasingly rabid from certain sections of people who love movies. Yeah, I’m obviously talking about some of the more intense Marvel fans. They’re at least the most annoying and problematic of the bunch, but really, in fairness, this applies to just about everyone.

While most people are probably just going to the goddamn movies, never mind how increasingly fewer movies are available for them to see, the rest of us are losing subjective nuance in everything we discuss. The margin for respect with regard to subjectivity does feel like it’s getting smaller and smaller. I don’t have anything useful to say about that, but I would tell Marvel fans in particular that it’s okay if someone doesn’t like your thing. There’s bringing willful, joyful ignorance to a topic, but there’s also still a place for just not liking something.

It seems weird to want to throw these sentiments into the void in hopes that someone with MCU fan in their social media bio will read this and think “You know, he’s right. My favorite movie made a billion dollars and is loved by quite possibly half of the movie-watching planet. That’s probably enough.”

But here we are.

I’m also finding it increasingly difficult to find people, again, particularly the more ardent MCU fans, who are willing to meet me halfway on this. We can define that together. Seriously. But there still isn’t on a whole lot you can say to people who aren’t even going to do some research.

Annette (2021): A-

I’ve been thinking about this movie an awful lot after finally seeing it a few weeks ago. It’s hard to watch this endlessly bizarre story of a standup comedian (Adam Driver) beginning a disastrous relationship with an opera singer (Marion Cotillard), and not feel like I’m watching one of the most brazenly pretentious arthouse epics released in my lifetime. Experiencing Annette is at times a little like watching a long-form music video from a highly stylized artist who rarely works in the medium anymore.

Some of that could arguably apply to Leos Carax. The director of Boy Meets Girl and Holy Motors makes his English-language debut here. While there might be an element of novelty to that, as Annette never stops surprising you with its characters, musical set pieces, or bombast, this movie has to be appreciated entirely on its own. While the movie sometimes lost its tempo with me, with the occasional scene that felt a little like a fancier version of padding, Annette is quite frankly spectacular.

This is an admirably strange and elaborately creative feature film. The performances from Driver and Cotillard go for broke in a film that quite frankly demands a lot from its leads. More than the norm. Driver in particular has become almost unstoppable in his versatility. Annette is another good one for him, and it’s one of the most striking cinematic efforts of the decade so far.

Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2022): C

Boy, people stopped talking about 2022’s Texas Chainsaw Massacre on Netflix after just a couple of weeks. It’s either an indication of how disposable this legacy sequel to 1974’s The Texas Chain Saw Massacre really is, or just a reminder that so much freaking stuff comes out from one week to the next. I’m going with the latter.

Some people hated this movie for reasons ranging from fair (characters were a mixed bag) to silly (the movie sucks because it’s a victim of “woke” culture). From the perspective of at least this fan of the franchise, I liked it more than I didn’t. My expectations are non-existent for a franchise that just seems weird to bring back at this point. What really gives Texas Chainsaw Massacre its distinction are the good performances from its cast, including Elsie Fisher and Sarah Yarkin. Mark Burnham also makes for a very strong Leatherface.

Where this movie falls apart is when it tries to address its ties to the original, or just the concept of legacy sequels. The movie has some excellent tributes to the 1978 classic, particularly in the ending. Nothing with Sally (although Olwen Fouéré is very good) really clicks, but these and other issues don’t keep TCM ’22 from at least being fun. That’s all it seemingly aspires to be, and that’s generally fine.

Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022): A+

For most of the people who have seen this, I’m not saying anything about this movie that you didn’t already know. I’m just here to express my wonder in print that 2022 has been a year for remarkable action movies so far. If you’re a little burned out on most comic book movies, something like Everything Everywhere All at Once can feel like a relief.

One of the many wonders of this movie, in which an aging mother and owner of a failing business (Michelle Yeoh in one of her best) is suddenly thrust into the role of saving all known existence, is in how this movie maintains itself. There are dazzling fight sequences, deep ties to absurdism and science fiction, a story of a woman trying to reconnect with her daughter and her world at large, and it goes on like this. Ke Huy Quan, the charismatic and talented child star of The Goonies and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, is now one of my favorite action stars. I don’t know if I want a sequel, but I want this entire cast, including Stephanie Hsu, James Hong, and Jamie Lee Curtis, to work together again.

Everything Everywhere All at Once tries for more simultaneously than a lot of movies being released right now. This feels like the first time in a while where every single note was perfect to me. I don’t know if that’s actually true, but this film in general just leaves you feeling happy you were alive to see it.

RRR (2022): A+

I have to admit that I don’t know quite as much about Bollywood or the cinema of India as I probably should. It’s one of those fields of interest where I’m working on changing that. RRR, which I went into as cold as one can get for a film these days, reminds me of all of this. It’s another superb, singular action movie epic for the calendar year. Watching this relatively close to when I saw Everything Everywhere All at Once is probably why I’m feeling hopeful about this genre maintaining an element of originality. RRR starts at over-the-top for its story of two revolutionaries joining forces and squaring off at different points of a long war involving British colonists.

As you’re enjoying the overwhelming fight choreography and wild plot twists, you’re also stunned by a movie that can alternate between deeply dramatic musical sequences and unreal bouts of physical comedy. I have to imagine there’s some cultural ignorance on my part, but I can’t recall offhand the last time I saw a movie try so many completely different things without crumbling under ambition.

Even Everything Everywhere All at Once sticks to a structure that at least struck me as familiar. It’s understandable that this movie clocks in at over three hours. Not a second of it felt like a waste of time.

The Sinful Nuns of Saint Valentine (1974): B-

We don’t really have time to get into whatever my fascination might be with horny nun movies. Nunsploitation is about as specific as it gets in the larger exploitation category. Yet like many of those smaller sub-genres, it’s filled with at least a few dozen examples. Most of them are technically terrible, but most of them are absolutely fascinating for one reason or another.

The Sinful Nuns of Saint Valentine manages to be not only as salacious as the title suggests, but an enjoyable and memorable exploitation film outside of the racier elements. The movie could be considered tame compared to some of the stuff that’s been released over the past 40+ years, but the sexual electricity which dominates much of this film is still pretty potent.

The story concerns a young man trying to save his girlfriend from a convent run by nuns who could be gently described as overstimulated. That’s pretty much it, with Jenny Tamburi in particular as a distinctive heroine, one who manages to create a genuinely sympathetic portrayal in a movie that doesn’t particularly care about such things. Françoise Prévost as The Abbess who runs the whole nightmare is also the kind of outrageous entertainment you’d expect from a picture like this.

Gabriel Ricard writes, edits, and occasionally acts. His books Love and Quarters and Bondage Night are available through Moran Press, in addition to A Ludicrous Split (Alien Buddha Press) and Clouds of Hungry Dogs (Kleft Jaw Press). He is also a writer, performer, and producer with Belligerent Prom Queen Productions. He lives on a horrible place called Long Island.