All in Film

The best portions of A Star is Born play out more or less like the film’s well-edited trailer: fast-paced, gorgeously photographed scenes set against emotional tunes. But once past the moment in which Gaga gets her big break (a scene which is a contender for the very best of 2018) the movie settles into rote Behind the Music cliché. Cooper is better than he’s ever been, and shows great promise as a director. Gaga is, as ever, playing for the back row in every scene, whether she’s singing or acting. I’ll leave you to work out if that’s a compliment.

The Little Stranger contains everything that should result in an intelligent gothic chiller: atmosphere, methodical pacing, and a character-driven drama that hints at something grander beneath its surface horrors. Through its luscious cinematography, dense script, and acting strengths—Will Poulter is particularly excellent as a burned and shell-shocked war veteran—the film does an extraordinary job examining gender and 1947’s English class structure. Yet, the film is nearly derailed by its perplexing central conceit—is it a ghost or something else? By removing the horror elements, the film may have been a more effective standalone period piece about class relations and mental illness.

You don't have to be a fan of the original Halloween series in order to enjoy the new sequel; you really only have to like the first one, because everything after that is disregarded. Even a couple missteps and a strange bowl of party pudding (I mean what?!) don't detract from what is a pretty solid addition to the franchise, with plenty of gory nonsense to get you excited for the spookiest season of all. Jamie Lee Curtis is a treasure. We don't have to protect her, though; she's got it under control.

There are no shortage of films addressing the way we gather information in the age of social media, but what makes Searching more than just a gimmick (the film is told entirely through computer and phone screens) is the fine editing work and the multi-layered performance of John Cho as the missing girl’s father. Cho never goes big, and because we believe him we go along with some fairly hoary plot devices (the moment where we switch devices to follow along a car on Google Maps is unintentionally hilarious) to deliver a shockingly resonant narrative and emotional payoff. 

The Happytime Murders is Meet the Feebles-lite, and while it's obvious scenes have been scrapped for whatever reason (I'm guessing time), it's still a worthwhile movie to watch if you're not in the mood to think too much while having a few guilty laughs. Melissa McCarthy delivers as Edwards and Bill Barretta once again shows his puppetry mastery as Phil, her curmudgeonly ex-partner. Come for the murder mystery, stay for the copious amounts of puppet ejaculate.

What may have begun as an interesting concept has devolved into repetitive ilk. I don’t think anyone who wanted another Purge movie, and yet people flocked out to see it this week. I don’t know which was weaker: the characters, the social commentary, or the thrills. The film explores how the Purge evolved from a social experiment on Staten Island, where participants would receive a monetary stipend for their participation. I feel the cast and crew did the same when Hollywood asked them to make this film. The film’s one redeeming quality is that it emphasizes the importance of community.

Paul Rudd is a being composed of charisma and genial good humor, and that’s never more apparent then when he shares the screen with two of the most pissy and uninteresting characters in all of the Marvel Cinematic Universe: Hank Pym, played by Michael Douglas, and Hope van Dyne, played by Evangeline Lilly. But even Rudd’s considerable charm isn’t enough to distract from the fact that the only people worth paying attention to: Hannah John-Kamen’s Ghost and Michelle Pfeiffer’s Janet van Dyne, get the least screen time. I’d rather have spent two hours with Randall Park’s put-upon FBI agent. 

Gotti isn’t a good movie, but I urge people to see it. It's rare to see something this incompetent in theaters, starring an actor as well-known as John Travolta. Travolta's credit inexplicably appears over footage of the real Gotti, forcing the audience to think "Well, they don't really look alike", before they've had a chance to get invested. The rest of the film offers scenes that have no connection to those before or after them. Worse, you'd have to be an expert on the infamous mob boss to understand half of what is going on. Travolta tries his best, though.

You've probably heard people talk up Hannah Gadsby's Nanette, and if you're like me you sorta shrugged it off for a bit, but then smartened up and watched it and sobbed into a blanket for like, twenty five minutes. Hannah takes the act of a comedian turning their pain into humor and stomps it into the ground. I can't do this any justice -- it's something everyone should experience.

There have been many on-screen depictions of PTSD over the last few years, but none as well realized as Leave No Trace, because writer/director Debra Granik sees--correctly--the disorder as not just something that changes the perceptions of those afflicted, but completely upends the family dynamic. Ben Foster doesn’t rely on the now-familiar actor’s tropes of PTSD, but instead carries a weight that we see his daughter, newcomer Thomasin McKenzie in a brilliant performance, forced to bear. Their subtle work makes the ending, which you should have tissues on hand for, the only possible route either character can take.