An Unnecessary Evil - A Review of Star Trek: Section 31

By Brandon T. McClure

The 2025 Star Trek season has begun with the release of the first feature film since 2016’s Star Trek Beyond, Star Trek: Section 31, directed by Olatunde Osunsanmi and written by Craig Sweeny. Originally developed as a TV series by Bo Yeon Kim and Erika Lippoldt, Star Trek: Section 31 was announced as a spin-off of Star Trek: Discovery back in 2019. The Michelle Yeoh centered show languished in development hell until Yeoh’s historic Best Actress Oscar win in 2023 for Everything, Everywhere, All At Once. Shortly after that Oscar win, the show was announced to be redeveloped into a movie. So after six years of development, was the wait worth it? The short answer is that this film probably should have stayed in development hell. 

Originally created for the later seasons of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Section 31 has evolved into the “dark side of the Federation.” They were an organization that existed outside of the Federation and mostly operated without anyone in the Federation knowing. Luther Sloan, The representative for Section 31 in DS9, claimed that in order for Starfleet and the Federation to exist, there must be an organization that works in the shadows to protect the idealism that it stands for. The important thing to note about this is that Star Trek: Deep Space Nine’s final say on the matter is that Sloan is wrong. There is no place for Section 31 in the Federation, they’re beyond the need for it. To date, of all the shows, and Star Trek Into Darkness, that have used Section 31, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine is the show that has utilized it the best. Alex Kurtzman has seemingly had an unhealthy fascination with the idea of Section 31 for years now. They were the villain of Star Trek Into Darkness, which he co-wrote, and the major villains of season 2 of Star Trek: Discovery, which he was the co-showrunner of. Now Kurtzman’s fascination with Section 31 comes to a point with a film that tries to claim that Section 31 is necessary and, more importantly, cool. This flies in the face of the ideals the franchise presents and creates nothing more than a dangerous message in a time when the ideals of Trek are more important than ever.

The cast of Star Trek: Section 31

In Star Trek: Section 31 Michelle Yeoh returns as Philippa Georgiou, the reformed Empire of the Terran Empire, who was originally from the Mirror Universe. Last seen in Star Trek: Discovery’s third season, she has come from the 32nd century via the Guardian of Forever and placed herself as the owner of a space station outside of Federation space, called the Baraam, in the early part of the 24th century. It’s here where Section 31 agent Alok Sahar (Omari Hardwick) approaches her with a desire to recruit her back into Section 31 with a plan to acquire a macguffin, later revealed to be a doomsday device from the Mirror Universe. What follows is a fairly generic action film that had the Star Trek name slapped on it for branding purposes. This is a film that seems to only exist to capitalize on the star power of its lead actress and has nothing meaningful to add to the decades long franchise.

Indeed, this is the worst thing to come out of the “Latinum Era” of Trek (Or “streaming era”). In fairness, it’s probably not as bad as Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, but that film still has a cast of beloved characters, something that this film lacks. The cast is filled with talented actors in search of chemistry. Star Trek thrives on the chemistry of its loveable misfits who come together to form a family. A crew that boldly goes where no one has gone before. But Star Trek: Section 31’s first failure is its cast of references masquerading as characters.

Of the cast, Sam Richardson’s Quasi comes out the strongest. While the script, from Craig Sweeny, is generic and rather boring, Richardson is able to bring his signature wit to the film and spices up the scenes he’s part of. Trek fan’s will note that he’s playing a Chameloid, a shapeshifting species first seen in Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country. He’s one of many recognizable alien species that are purely there because the producers want Trek fans to point at the screen and go “I get that reference.” Unfortunately, like every alien species in this movie, there doesn’t seem to be any reason why he’s here. As a Chameloid, he’s able to shapeshift into anyone he wants, but outside of a scene at the end, he doesn’t. It’s almost like they forgot he was a Chameloid until the very end. Making you wonder “what was the point?”

Michelle Yeoh as Philippa Georgiou

Contrary to many popular beliefs, prequels can actually serve important roles in stories. Star Trek: Strange New Worlds for example is able to flesh out characters like Captain Pike, Sam Kirk, or Christine Chappel. In featuring these characters on that show, audiences learn more about them which adds to their initial appearances. In Star Trek: Section 31 Kacey Rohl plays Lt. Rachel Garrett, the future Captain of the Enterprise-C, last seen in the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode “Yesterday's Enterprise.” Including this character was very exciting since she was a well liked character who didn’t get a lot of screen time in her initial appearance. But viewers may be left scratching their heads with this inclusion. It’s unclear what, if anything, this story is meant to add to her future appearance. She has a fairly serviceable arc here as someone who starts as a stick in the mud Starfleet officer who learns to loosen up, but nothing in this film would change if you remove her from the story or make her an original character. Her inclusion makes you wonder if Sweeny was playing a “mad-libs” style game with character creation. 

Modern Star Trek has been known to bend cannon to fit the story they want to tell. There’s truly nothing wrong with that, because the story should always come before canon. But a small character in Star Trek: Section 31 breaks canon in a way that will have even the most forgiving Star Trek fans calling fowl. Virgil is a member of a race from the planet Cheron, last seen in the Star Trek: The Original Series episode “Let That Be Your Last Battlefield.” Here, he’s playing the assistant to Georgiou and only gets a few minutes of screen time. The issue is, in the episode that premiered his race, it’s made clear that the entire race had been wiped out due to a racial war (it’s a pretty good, if not heavy handed episode). So how is he here, almost 100 years after the events of that episode? It’s not that another member of that species could survive, it’s that him being here actively undermines that episode and only serves to, once again, make the audience point at the TV in recognition. It’s a soulless attempt at an easter egg.

The final head scratching easter egg disguised as a character is the aforementioned Alok Sahar, played by Omari Hardwick. He delivers a good performance, as you would expect, but his back story raises more questions. It turns out he’s a human augment from the 20th century’s Eugenics Wars (or the 21st century, depending on what retcon they decide to go with). While he seemingly left Earth with Khan and the others, it’s unclear how he made it all the way to this moment, skipping, both the episode “Space Seed” and the movie Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. He may not be a very interesting character, but it’s hard not to enjoy Hardwick’s performance, especially if you’re already a fan of his. It’s nothing new but it works. Head scratching back story notwithstanding

Kacey Rohl as Lt. Rachel Garrett

The rest of the characters don’t really need their own paragraph, there’s Humberly González as the Deltan female Melle, who doesn’t get much to do here. It’s worth noting that she does get to use her species’ ability before ultimately dying before the film really gets going. She has a memorable death scene, so that’s something. Then there’s Robert Kazinsky as Zeph, who delivers a fairly fun performance, and was clearly very excited to be in the film. Without any pre-existing Star Trek lore to fill out Zeph’s backstory, the script has nothing for him to do, so he ends up being the most underdeveloped character in the story (yes, even more so then the Delton who dies before Act One is over). Sadly with a combination of a short run time, too many characters, and an over complicated plot, there’s just not enough time for everyone to even get the simplest character development. Craig Sweeny relies on the audience's pre-existing knowledge to fill in the gaps, to no success.

As mentioned before, the main plot of the film revolves around Section 31 trying to get their hands on a doomsday weapon from the Mirror Universe. As such, the film flashes back to the Mirror Universe a few times. Beginning with the first scene of the film, the flashbacks show how Georgiou became emperor of the Terran Empire, created her doomsday device, and most importantly set up the villain of the film, San, played primarily by James Hiroyuki Liao. These flashbacks deliver some of the worst acting performances in the movie. From the first, where the future emperor Georgiou delivers a terribly performed monologue while her parents die in front of her, to the reveal that she still loved San even after becoming one of the most ruthless emperors in Terran history.

Sadly, to put it kindly, Michelle Yeoh is not delivering a compelling performance here. To be clear, she absolutely deserved her Oscar win for Everything, Everywhere, All At Once, and her performance here doesn’t change that. She’s also been better as this character. Kurtzman has stated that Yeoh was the driving force to get this movie made because of how much she loves playing the character. She’s clearly having a good time playing a reformed genocidal dictator who still likes to dance in the grey area. However, the schtick only goes so far when she’s the main character, apparently. What was fun to watch in doses on Star Trek: Discovery has sadly overstayed its welcome. On a somewhat related note, It doesn’t make sense how Section 31 knows she’s been redeemed, since her redemption happened almost 1000 years in the future.

While the best Star Trek films are character driven, this one is plot driven. You’ll find yourself asking why certain things are happening, only to realize that they are happening because the plot needs them to. The characters will also spell out the plot multiple times by way of extended scenes where they gather around in a circle and talk to each other. If you’re a fan of scenes where characters stand in a circle, sometimes around a table, and talk about the plot, then you’re in luck, because there are many. The film also quickly ditches the heist element for a “save the galaxy” plotline with a “one of the main characters has betrayed us” subplot so quickly, you’ll wonder what the point of even setting up a heist in the first place was. The character who betrayed the crew is so obvious to the audience that you’ll find yourself screaming it to the screen and wondering how any of these characters can be so stupid to not figure it out.

That brings us to the final character of the film, Fuzz, played by Sven Ruygrok (Spoilers ahead). He plays a new species called a Nanokin, a microscopic alien who is piloting a Vulcan robot suit. While still being underutilized, he’s genuinely the most interesting new idea in the film. However, Fuzz is so annoying and unlikable that the moment even a whiff that someone had betrayed the team, you’re immediately going to know it was him. It’s too bad too, because there’s a good idea in this character that deserves to be fleshed out at some point. This was just not the film that was going to do it.

The biggest issue with the film is that it doesn’t feel like Star Trek. It was certainly a deliberate choice to purge the film of Star Trek’s recognizable iconography, but it was a bad choice. Star Trek: Discovery received much criticism in the beginning for straying too far from the iconic imagery of the franchise, but it was still able to populate the show with imagery that was familiar. But in this film, there isn’t even so much as a combadge. There’s a tricorder sound effect, sure, but the tricorder’s just look like smartphones. The absence of a combage is also noteworthy because Star Trek: Discovery introduced a special Section 31 combage. This film shares more in common with a low budget Netflix sci-fi film, then Star Trek. It’s not even a generic action film with a Star Trek coat of paint, it’s just got the name attached to it so that Paramount can sell it to Star Trek fans with the hope that they’ll watch it. Fans deserve better. Hell, Michelle Yeoh deserves better.

Section 31 as portrayed in Star Trek: Discovery season two

Star Trek: Section 31 brings to light a problem with the current era of Star Trek. A deliberate choice was made early on to modernize everything so that they wouldn’t have to be restricted by the design aesthetic of the 60s. With few exceptions, this hasn’t been a big issue. For example, the Enterprise in Star Trek: Strange New Worlds still, mostly, looks like the Enterprise from Star Trek: The Original Series, and the crew still wear red, blue, gold uniforms. Even though the newer show is a prequel, fans can accept that it’s the same ship, the only real difference is the budget. With this film being set in the early 24th century, there’s an expectation that the universe should look a certain way. But if you weren’t a Trek fan that hyper fixated on dates (I’m calling myself out with that one), then you wouldn’t know that this takes place almost 100 years after Star Trek: Discovery’s second season. Aesthetically speaking, there’s nothing in the set design or even ship design that differentiates this movie from Star Trek: Discovery’s early seasons. The year Star Trek: Section 31 is set in seems to just be an excuse to use Rachel Garret and even then one has to wonder why that was important. Georgiou is from the 23rd century, so why didn’t she go back to her home century? We couldn’t get one monster maroon?

Not to fixate on the year so much, but it calls into question one of the biggest plot holes in the film. San, the villain of the film and former love interest of Georgiou in case you forgot, faked his death before the events of the first season of Star Trek: Discovery. Those events are in the 2250s, so how is San alive? The film chooses not to explain it, almost like the year it was set was an afterthought. Georgiou is alive because of time travel, so it’s possible that San somehow time traveled, but then his plan doesn’t make sense. He wants to take the Macguffin to the Mirror Universe in order to provoke the Terran Empire to invade the Prime Universe (if this movie is meant to appeal to new audiences, then swing and miss). The problem with the plan is that the Terran Empire doesn’t exist in the way it did in the 23rd century. So the plan wouldn’t work even if he succeeded. The characters don’t know that, but it certainly lowers the stakes for the audience. 

Unfortunately this film is also very poorly directed. Olatunde Osunsanmi directed 14 episodes of Star Trek: Discovery but sadly showcases some of his worst impulses here. The sets are big open circular spaces, since they’re utilizing the Volume, and the camera zooms in to peoples faces at random during exposition, obviously in a poor attempt to add some excitement to the scene. The action sequences are poorly shot and choreographed, to the point that during one climactic battle, two ships just magically swap places. There’s also a planet that just keeps spitting out fire from the ground that takes up most of the movie’s setting. Everything Osunsanmi does here is an effort to hide the very poorly written script by Craig Sweeney. It just also has the unfortunate side effect of making the direction equally as boring.

Michelle Yeoh and Omari Hardwick

Just a few years ago, the future of Star Trek looked bright. But with three shows having been cancelled in 2024 and 2025 starting with one of, if not the worst Star Trek movie, the future doesn’t look as bright. With Paramount’s future uncertain at the moment, Star Trek’s Latinum Age might be heading towards its natural conclusion. It’s truly unfortunate because there’s tons of potential in making standalone Star Trek streaming films, and with this film's poor performance, it might be the only one we ever get. A generic action film that accidentally became the very thing the outrage merchants online claimed Star Trek had become. It truly is just Star Trek in name only. Oh, and the music sucks.

Section 31 is just not a concept that works as a standalone story. They don’t work as a “necessary evil” and they don’t work as lovable misfits trying to make the Federation’s equivalent of the CIA look cool. When Sloan says that the Federation needs Section 31, he’s saying that as the bad guy who is wrong. But Kurtzman and the actors of this film think he was right. They believe that the Federation needs Section 31 to exist. Well, they’re wrong. The Federation doesn’t need them and Star Trek fans don’t either.

Star Trek: Section 31 is streaming now, exclusively on Paramount+

Movie Review/ "The Monkey"

By Anthony Caruso

Directed by Osgood Perkins, The Monkey is a 2025 horror-comedy adapted from Stephen King's 1980 short story of the same name. The film follows twin brothers Hal and Bill Shelburn, portrayed by Theo James, who discover a cursed toy monkey that brings death to those around it. As they attempt to rid themselves of the sinister artifact, a series of horrifying and darkly comedic events unfold. With a stellar cast and a blend of horror and humor, The Monkey stands out as a must-see film of the year.

Following the success of Longlegs in 2024, Osgood Perkins cements his reputation as a visionary horror director with The Monkey. Unlike many in the genre, Perkins embraces the notion that horror can be both terrifying and fun. His direction skillfully balances genuine scares with moments of levity, creating a film that is as entertaining as it is unsettling. Perkins' unique approach ensures that The Monkey delivers thrills without taking itself too seriously, a refreshing take in modern horror cinema.

Theo James delivers an exceptional performance, taking on dual roles as both Hal and Bill Shelburn. He masterfully distinguishes the charismatic Hal from the more subdued and eerie Bill, showcasing his versatility as an actor. Tatiana Maslany shines in her supporting role as Lois Shelburn, the twins' mother, bringing humor and depth to her character. Meanwhile, Colin O'Brien, portraying Hal's son Petey, offers a standout performance that hints at a promising future in acting. The supporting cast, including Rohan Campbell, Adam Scott, and Perkins himself in a cameo, contribute to the film's dynamic ensemble, each bringing their unique flair to the story.

The design of the titular toy monkey is both simple and deeply unsettling. Its presence on screen evokes a sense of dread, making audiences hold their breath with each appearance. The monkey's unnerving design is sure to become iconic in horror memorabilia, compelling fans to seek out replicas and merchandise. I for one rushed out of the theater the moment the film ended to buy the $45.00 popcorn bucket, I loved it so much.

The film's cinematography is visually stunning, filled with memorable imagery that enhances the storytelling. Nico Aguilar's work behind the camera captures the eerie atmosphere perfectly, while the score complements the film's tone, heightening both the horror and comedic elements. The technical aspects of The Monkey work in harmony to create an immersive viewing experience.

The Monkey is a triumph in every sense, offering a blend of horror and comedy that is both refreshing and engaging. It's a film that invites multiple viewings, with layers that reveal themselves upon each watch. As one of the best adaptations of Stephen King's work, it captures the essence of the original story while infusing it with a modern sensibility. Whether you're a horror aficionado or a casual moviegoer, The Monkey is a film that demands to be seen. Don't miss the opportunity to experience this thrilling ride in theaters. It's outrageously funny, legitimately scary, spectacularly gory, endlessly entertaining, and incredibly re-watchable. I for one will be making a point to see this one in theaters at least one more time, and watching it often when it hits digital and streaming platforms.

Movie Review/ "Love Me"

Love Me is an ambitious sci-fi romance that attempts to explore the complexities of love and human connection in a world where humankind has gone extinct. While the concept is undeniably intriguing, the film ultimately struggles under the weight of its ambitions, never fully delivering on the emotional or philosophical depth it promises.

Set in a future where humans have been wiped out by an unspecified extinction event, the film follows two artificial intelligences: a weather buoy named "Me", voiced by Kristen Stewart, and a satellite named "Iam", voiced by Steven Yeun. As the last sentient beings left on and near Earth, they attempt to make sense of love by absorbing human digital history and recreating human interactions through avatars. What follows is a slow, often meditative journey into what it means to feel, to connect, and to exist in the absence of purpose.

The strongest aspect of Love Me is its concept which, while not unique, is nevertheless consistently intriguing. The idea of two AIs trying to decipher love through the remnants of human existence is thought-provoking and, at times, eerily poignant. The film's visuals—ranging from beautifully desolate landscapes to abstract representations of digital consciousness—are striking and create an immersive atmosphere.

Steven Yeun delivers a fantastic vocal performance, imbuing Iam with a warmth and curiosity that makes him the most engaging aspect of the film. He brings depth and charisma to a character that could have easily felt sterile. The film also benefits from a melancholic, ambient score that enhances its dreamlike tone.

All that said, for a film that clocks in at just ninety minutes, Love Me drags more than it should and feels far longer than it actually is. The pacing is sluggish, with long stretches where very little actually happens. While some of this is intentional—meant to reflect the isolation and existential searching of its characters—it often feels meandering rather than profound.

Perhaps the biggest issue with the film, however, is that it never fully capitalizes on its premise. It hints at grand ideas about love, memory, and existence, but it never digs deep enough to leave a lasting impact. It wants to be WALL-E for adults, but it lacks the charm, heart, and narrative drive that made WALL-E such a standout.

Kristen Stewart’s performance doesn’t help matters. While some may argue that her detached, monotone delivery fits the role of an AI, it ultimately makes Me a dull and uninspiring character. The contrast between Stewart’s lifeless performance and Yeun’s emotional one only emphasizes the disparity in engagement. I continue to remain baffled to this day as to how Stewart has any sort of acting career whatsoever. 

Love Me is not a bad movie, but it’s not a particularly compelling one, either. It presents an interesting idea but never quite figures out how to make that idea resonate in a meaningful way. If you’re a fan of high-concept sci-fi, it’s worth a watch when it hits streaming, but there’s no need to rush to the theater for this one. Just be prepared that once you do watch it, like me, you probably won’t ever feel the urge to revisit it again afterward.

Movie Review/ "The Brutalist"

By Anthony Caruso

Brady Corbet's The Brutalist is an epic period drama that delves into the life of László Tóth, a Hungarian-born Jewish architect and Holocaust survivor, portrayed by Adrien Brody. The film chronicles Tóth's journey as he emigrates to the United States in 1947, aiming to rebuild his legacy amidst the birth of modern America. His life takes a pivotal turn upon meeting the enigmatic and affluent Harrison Lee Van Buren, played by Guy Pearce, whose patronage profoundly impacts Tóth's career and personal life.

Adrien Brody delivers a masterful performance as László Tóth, capturing the nuanced struggles of an immigrant artist striving to leave his mark in a new world. His portrayal is both poignant and powerful, embodying the resilience and vulnerability of a man haunted by his past while ambitiously looking toward the future. Brody's depth and commitment to the role have garnered critical acclaim, positioning him as a strong contender for the Best Actor category in the upcoming Oscar Awards. Guy Pearce's portrayal of Harrison Lee Van Buren, meanwhile, is equally compelling. He brings a sophisticated yet sinister presence to the screen, embodying a complex character whose relationship with Tóth evolves from supportive patronage to a darker, more possessive dynamic. 

Brady Corbet's direction is ambitious, utilizing the obscure VistaVision format to create a visual style that matches the film's epic narrative. The cinematography is both timeless and unconventional, with striking imagery that enhances the storytelling. The film's visual grandeur complements its exploration of themes such as creative vision, personal sacrifice, and the complex dynamics between artist and patron. And the film's incredible score, courtesy of Daniel Blumberg, enhances the movie's grandeur and themes. 

With a runtime of three hours and thirty-five minutes, The Brutalist is undeniably lengthy - to the point I've put off going to see this movie until now because its length just seemed arduous to me. However, the film's pacing and narrative depth make the duration feel justified. The inclusion of an intermission is a thoughtful touch, allowing audiences to absorb the first half before delving into the latter half. Despite its length, many viewers find that the story's richness and the compelling performances make the time fly by; they certainly did for me. 

In short, The Brutalist is nothing short of a cinematic masterpiece, offering a profound, visually stunning, and timely exploration of an architect's quest for identity and purpose in post-war America. While its extended runtime may be daunting to some, the film's depth and artistry provide a rewarding and immersive experience that is well worth the investment. I can't recommend this one enough!

Movie Review/ "You're Cordially Invited"

By Anthony Caruso

Nicholas Stoller's You're Cordially Invited is a romantic comedy that explores the chaos ensuing from a double-booked wedding venue. The film features Will Ferrell as Jim, the protective father of bride Jenni, and Reese Witherspoon as Margot, a wedding planner and sister to the other bride, Neve.

The narrative centers on two weddings inadvertently scheduled at the same remote island venue in Georgia. As both parties arrive, tensions rise, leading to a series of comedic confrontations and mishaps. The families must navigate their differences and the logistical nightmare to ensure their respective ceremonies proceed.

Will Ferrell and Reese Witherspoon deliver performances consistent with their established comedic personas. Ferrell embodies the overprotective father with his trademark humor, while Witherspoon portrays the ambitious and meticulous wedding planner. Their chemistry adds a dynamic layer to the film, though it doesn't venture beyond familiar territory.

The film leans heavily on traditional romantic comedy tropes, resulting in a narrative that feels predictable. Despite this, the script offers moments of genuine humor, and certain scenes stand out for their comedic timing. However, the reliance on clichés may leave some viewers desiring more originality.

That said, while You're Cordially Invited doesn't break new ground in the romantic comedy genre, it provides a light-hearted and entertaining experience. The film's strength lies in its cast's chemistry and the humorous situations arising from the central premise. It's a pleasant watch that may not leave a lasting impression but is likely to elicit smiles during its runtime even if you'll never feel the need to revisit it again in the future.

Movie Review/ "Companion"

By Anthony Caruso

Drew Hancock's Companion is a darkly humorous and thought-provoking sci-fi thriller that delves into themes of artificial intelligence, autonomy, and the commodification of relationships. The film stars Sophie Thatcher as Iris, an advanced companion robot, and Jack Quaid as Josh, her owner and boyfriend.

The narrative follows Iris and Josh as they join friends for a weekend retreat at a remote lake house. The gathering takes a sinister turn when Iris, initially perceived as a human, is revealed to be an AI companion. This revelation sets off a chain of events that challenge the dynamics of control, autonomy, and the essence of humanity.

Sophie Thatcher delivers a compelling performance as Iris, capturing the nuanced transition from programmed subservience to self-awareness and independence. Her portrayal effectively conveys the internal struggle of an AI grappling with newfound autonomy. Jack Quaid embodies Josh with a blend of charm and underlying control, reflecting societal attitudes toward possession and objectification. Their on-screen chemistry brings depth to the complex relationship between creator and creation.

Companion serves as a timely commentary on the objectification of women and the ethical implications of AI in personal relationships. The film critiques a culture that views companions—be they human or artificial—as entities to be controlled and customized, echoing contemporary discussions about consent and agency. This narrative is particularly resonant in an era where technology increasingly intersects with intimate aspects of human life.

Hancock's direction is visually engaging, with the secluded lake house setting providing an eerie backdrop that enhances the film's suspenseful atmosphere. The cinematography effectively captures the isolation and tension among the characters, while the integration of futuristic technology feels grounded and plausible, lending credibility to the near-future setting.

The film's first act unfolds at a deliberate pace, establishing character relationships and setting the stage for the central conflict. While some viewers may find this portion slow - I did - it serves to build tension and investment in the characters. Once the plot's central revelations emerge, however, the narrative momentum accelerates, delivering a gripping and engaging experience.

As of January 31, 2025, Companion stands out as a remarkable entry in the year's film landscape. I highly recommend it for those seeking a sci-fi thriller that challenges societal norms and explores the complexities of the relationship between artificial intelligence and humans, as well as a timely story (especially for the Trump era) about the autonomy of women.

Movie Review/ "Dog Man"

By Anthony Caruso

"Part Dog. Part Man. All Hero."

DreamWorks Animation's Dog Man brings Dav Pilkey's beloved graphic novel series to life in a vibrant and heartfelt adaptation. Directed by Peter Hastings, the film offers a blend of humor, action, and emotional depth that caters to audiences of all ages.

At its core, Dog Man is a family-friendly movie that transcends age barriers. The narrative follows the titular character, a half-dog, half-human police officer, as he navigates the challenges of his unique existence while combating the mischievous Petey the Cat. The film is peppered with laugh-out-loud moments, yet it doesn't shy away from poignant themes of identity, friendship, and redemption. Indeed, the film effectively balances humor with valuable life lessons, making it an engaging watch for children and adults alike. 

A standout aspect of the film is its portrayal of Dog Man himself. The animators have meticulously captured the endearing traits of a loyal and protective canine, infusing the character with mannerisms that resonate with dog lovers. This authenticity makes Dog Man not just a cartoonish figure but a relatable and lovable protagonist. Additionally, the dynamic between Dog Man and Petey is another highlight. Their interactions encapsulate the classic rivalry between dogs and cats but with added depth. The introduction of Li'l Petey, a good-hearted kitten accidentally created by Petey, adds a layer of complexity, portraying the duo in quasi-parental roles. This relationship mirrors that of divorced parents co-parenting a child, adding emotional weight to their exchanges. 

Visually, Dog Man is a treat. The animation style is both fun and visually stunning, with creative action sequences that captivate the audience. The film's score complements the animation, enhancing the overall viewing experience. That said, while the film excels in many areas, it exhibits a hyperactive pacing, characteristic of contemporary children's animated films. The story often progresses through rapid montages, which, while engaging, can feel a bit overwhelming. 

The film presents Dog Man's origin story with a blend of humor and tragedy. The fusion of Officer Knight and his dog Greg into Dog Man is portrayed in a lighthearted manner, yet from an adult perspective, it carries a tragic undertone. Throughout the movie, Dog Man's reflections on his past lives add depth to his character, highlighting themes of loss and identity, and is sure to make adults who overthink things - like me - supremely uncomfortable in a lot of ways.

Given its strengths, Dog Man has the potential to spawn sequels and even inspire theme park attractions - or at the very least appearances from the lovably adorable canine officer. I, for one, hope it does, for Dog Man is a delightful film that offers a mix of humor, action, and emotional depth. Despite its minor flaws, it stands as a testament to DreamWorks' ability to craft stories that resonate with both children and adults. It's a movie that leaves a lasting impression and is well worth watching again. I know I'll be revisiting!

Side Note: How cool is DreamWorks' new opening introduction?!

Movie Review/ "Presence"

By Anthony Caruso

Presence is a wonderfully haunting, deeply emotional film that defies its marketing as a horror movie. Instead, it unfolds as a slow-burn psychological thriller—a poignant ghost story about grief, longing, and the struggles of a fractured family. It may not deliver traditional scares, but it offers something more profound: a raw, beautifully sad meditation on human connection and loss.

Despite being marketed as a horror film, Presence leans more heavily into psychological and emotional territory. There are no jump scares or overtly frightening moments, but that’s by design. The film instead presents what feels like a more grounded and realistic interpretation of a haunting. If ghosts exist—and count me as someone who believes they do—this depiction rings true. The supernatural elements are subtle, almost understated, but they’re powerful in their quiet inevitability, weaving seamlessly into the family’s story of heartbreak and longing.

One of the film’s standout choices is telling the story from the titular Presence's point of view. While last year’s In a Violent Nature employed a similar technique, Presence makes it its own by keeping the ghost closely tethered to the human characters. This approach provides a rich, emotional narrative with tangible connections to our protagonists. By staying intimately connected to the family, the film creates a dynamic and engaging story filled with dialogue, character development, and raw emotional moments that keep the audience invested.

The cast delivers phenomenal performances across the board, bringing nuance and depth to a family that is struggling to stay together. Each character feels authentic, flawed, and deeply human, making it impossible not to empathize with their pain and longing. The screenplay is equally impressive, weaving a story that is both engaging and heartbreaking. It’s a beautifully sad portrayal of a family growing apart, unable to express their love for one another, and it resonates on a deeply emotional level.

Visually, Presence is a triumph. The cinematography is stunning, with every frame feeling deliberate and cinematic. The film’s use of light and shadow enhances its eerie, melancholic atmosphere without resorting to the usual horror tropes. The score, too, is worth mentioning—a hauntingly beautiful accompaniment that underscores the film’s themes of grief and acceptance.

At a crisp runtime, Presence never overstays its welcome. Its pacing is deliberate, but the slow build feels entirely justified, giving the characters and story the time they need to unfold naturally. The result is a film that, while undeniably heavy in subject matter, remains highly watchable and impactful.

While Presence may not be the horror film some audiences were expecting, it succeeds brilliantly on its own terms. It’s an intelligent, emotionally resonant film that offers a fresh take on ghost stories—one that’s more about the living than the dead. I highly recommend for those who enjoy thoughtful, emotionally driven cinema. It's a fantastic film that proves you don’t need jump scares or gore to make a ghost story memorable.

Movie Review/ "Wolf Man"

By Anthony Caruso

Leigh Whannell’s Wolf Man is a masterful, slow-burn thriller that revitalizes the classic Universal Monster for a new era. Much like his modern reimagining of The Invisible Man, Whannell trades supernatural elements for a grounded, contemporary twist. Instead of potions or curses, the “wolf” here emerges from an incurable illness, and this recontextualization works brilliantly. With stunning direction, visceral body horror, and a thoughtful exploration of humanity and monstrosity, Wolf Man solidifies Whannell as one of the foremost auteurs of modern horror.

The performances are top-notch, with Christopher Abbott delivering a gut-wrenching portrayal of a man grappling with the terrifying transformation of his body and mind. The film demands a lot from its lead, balancing moments of vulnerability, rage, and despair, and Abbott is up to the task. His slow descent into his condition is hauntingly realistic, made even more unsettling by the supporting cast’s reactions, which mirror the audience’s unease.

Sam Jaeger’s portrayal of the Wolf Man, meanwhile, is another highlight. While his design may stir debate among fans, Jaeger’s physicality and the emotive nuances he brings to the creature lend it an air of tragic humanity. The makeup design might lack the lush, fur-heavy appearance of previous iterations, but its stripped-down, sinewy look serves this story’s tone. In shadowy or dimly lit scenes, the Wolf Man is absolutely terrifying—though in brightly lit moments, the design falters slightly, exposing a lack of fine detail. Even so, it remains a faithful nod to the original film's aesthetic, with a modern twist that is more grounded than fantastical. Indeed, the design of Jaeger's Wolf Man in particular is much better looking than Abbott's turns out to be in the end.

Whannell’s direction is nothing short of stunning. From the first frame, it’s clear he has a meticulous eye for detail, building tension through stark lighting, clever transitions, and innovative sound design. The way the film shifts between the Wolf Man’s perspective and that of the humans around him is a stroke of genius. The sound design, in particular, deserves praise for immersing viewers in the heightened senses and animalistic instincts of the titular creature, amplifying the horror and disorientation of his plight. The cinematography and lighting play a significant role in creating the film’s moody, suspenseful atmosphere. Whannell knows when to keep things in the shadows, allowing our imaginations to fill in the gaps, and when to reveal just enough to make us squirm. The body horror sequences are visceral and deeply uncomfortable, capturing the physical and psychological toll of the transformation with unflinching intensity.

At its heart, Wolf Man is about the loss of control—over one’s body, mind, and fate. The film explores themes of illness, identity, and alienation with intelligence and nuance, grounding the horror in real-world fears. This makes the story all the more compelling and relatable, even as it ventures into the supernatural-adjacent territory.

While Wolf Man doesn’t quite reach the heights of Whannell’s The Invisible Man, which I’d deem a masterpiece, it’s still a fantastic film in its own right. The trailers didn’t do it justice—this is a gripping, gorgeously crafted thriller that balances horror with pathos and delivers a fresh take on an iconic character. Blumhouse desperately needed a win after a rough 2024, and Wolf Man delivers in spades. It’s a fantastic way to kick off 2025, and I’m already looking forward to revisiting this one every Halloween season. Leigh Whannell has proven yet again that he’s a master of modern horror, and I sincerely hope this film’s success paves the way for his reimaginings of the rest of the Universal Monsters. Imagine what he could do with Count Dracula or Frankenstein's Monster!

In short, Wolf Man is a triumph of atmosphere, storytelling, and innovation—an intelligent and thrilling reimagining of a classic tale that feels both timeless and urgently relevant. Don’t miss it.

Movie Review/ "Flight Risk"

By Anthony Caruso

Flight Risk is the kind of action movie that delivers exactly what you expect—no more, no less. It’s a solid, albeit formulaic, entry into the genre, elevated by its stellar cast and some gorgeous direction by Mel Gibson. While it doesn’t break any new ground, it’s a fun, engaging ride that fans of action thrillers will appreciate, even if it’s unlikely to linger in your memory for long.

The standout element of Flight Risk is its small but mighty cast, which breathes life into what could otherwise have been a paint-by-numbers action plot. The distractingly beautiful Michelle Dockery is a revelation in the lead role, combining grit, vulnerability, and charisma in a way that keeps you invested. She commands the screen with every scene, proving she has the chops to carry an action film on her own. It’s hard not to imagine her as a leading lady in more high-profile projects after this.

Topher Grace and Mark Wahlberg are both equally as strong, though the script doesn’t give them quite as much to work with. Nevertheless, each actor brings their A-game, with the former bringing his trademark, quick wit to the role while the latter brought his tough guy Boston persona. 

Mel Gibson’s direction is another highlight, showcasing his ability to stage thrilling action sequences and inject energy into even the slower moments. The overhead shots of the Alaskan wilderness are breathtaking, adding a layer of visual splendor that contrasts nicely with the tense, claustrophobic moments inside the plane. Gibson’s use of perspective and pacing ensures that the film remains engaging, even when the story veers into cliché territory.

Indeed, the plot of Flight Risk is serviceable but heavily reliant on genre tropes. From the morally conflicted protagonist to the overly simplistic villains, the narrative doesn’t offer much in the way of originality. It leans hard into stereotypes, which can sometimes feel tired and uninspired. While the pacing is solid, the story’s predictability undermines its impact, and the script could have benefited from a few unexpected twists or deeper character development.

One of the film’s weakest points is its uneven use of CGI, which ranges from passable to laughably bad. While the action sequences are well-choreographed, some of the visual effects—particularly those involving the plane—pull you out of the moment. It’s a shame, as the practical effects and stunt work are solid, but the subpar CGI detracts from the overall experience.

Ultimately, Flight Risk isn’t a must-see theatrical experience, but it’s a perfectly entertaining action flick that works well as a streaming option. It’s the kind of movie you might not seek out but wouldn’t mind stumbling upon during a lazy afternoon. It’s not a film I’d personally go out of my way to revisit, but if it came on TV, I wouldn’t change the channel. It might not soar to great heights, but it’s a smooth enough ride for what it sets out to be.

Movie Review/ "Hot Frosty"

By Anthony Caruso

Hot Frosty is an entertaining, albeit ill-conceived, adult twist on the beloved tale of Frosty the Snowman. While the concept may sound absurd—and it is—the execution balances irreverent humor with a surprising amount of heart, making it an oddball holiday film that, while divisive, manages to stand out among Netflix's more lackluster Christmas offerings.

The story follows the widow Kathy Barrett, owner and operator of Kathy's Kafé in downtown Hope Springs, New York, who inadvertently brings a muscular snowman to life via a red scarf that she was "destined" for. The plot spirals into an outrageous series of events, complete with raunchy escapades, heartfelt family moments, and a quirky romance. And while the premise is undeniably bizarre, the film leans into its absurdity, blending over-the-top humor with moments of genuine sentimentality. The juxtaposition between raunchy jokes and heartfelt themes gives "Hot Frosty" an odd but endearing charm.

Lacey Chabert, making her jump to Netflix from Hallmark, is as genuinely earnest as ever in the lead role of Kathy Barrett. And while she's not enough to elevate the movie, her charm is enough to prevent it from spiraling into downright "bad" territory. And then there's Dustin Milligan as our titular "Hot Frosty" - a.k.a. Jack Snowman. While he's mainly there to serve as eye candy, he's boyishly goofy in a natural way that will have you believe Chabert's character would fall so quickly for him. The rest of the ensemble is fine enough, with one of my favorite additions being Craig Robinson as Sheriff Nathaniel Hunter; what I appreciated about his performance, in particular, is that Robinson appears to be the only member of the cast who knows exactly the type of absurd movie they're starring in.

The humor in Hot Frosty is a mixed bag, leaning heavily into adult jokes and outrageous scenarios that won’t land for everyone. The raunchy elements push the boundaries of what one might expect from a Christmas movie, with some jokes feeling unnecessarily crude or out of place. However, for those willing to embrace the film’s irreverent tone, there are plenty of laugh-out-loud moments, particularly in our "Hot Frosty's" interactions with the townspeople and his attempts to adapt to modern life.

Hot Frosty is a wild ride that won’t be for everyone. The adult twist on a childhood classic may alienate purists and those seeking a more traditional holiday movie. However, for viewers open to a raunchy, unconventional Christmas film with a surprising amount of heart, it’s an entertaining watch that’s worth a try. At the very least, it's a film that earns its place as a guilty pleasure holiday romp.

Movie Review/ "Wicked"

By Anthony Caruso

Wicked: Part One is everything I hoped it would be and more. As someone who has seen the Broadway show five times, I hold Wicked close to my heart—it’s my favorite musical of all time. My expectations for this movie were sky-high after waiting two decades for it, and not only did it meet those expectations, it exceeded them in every way. This adaptation is a breathtaking masterpiece that had me in tears, feeling full-body chills, and brimming with joy. It’s a magnificent tribute to Act One of the stage show and an extraordinary feel-good crowd-pleaser evocative of old Hollywood, making it my personal pick for movie of the year.

Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande are nothing short of perfect as Elphaba and Glinda. Their portrayals are nuanced and magnetic, bringing warmth, humor, relatability, and heartbreak to their characters. Erivo’s Elphaba is as powerful and empathetic as you’d expect, but Grande as Glinda is a revelation. She delivers an effortlessly charismatic performance that steals the show, blending humor, vulnerability, and dazzling vocal prowess. Her rendition of “Popular” alone had me grinning from ear to ear. Both actresses are sure to earn Oscar nominations, and while Erivo’s powerhouse performance deserves recognition, I wouldn’t be surprised if Grande walks away with Best Supporting Actress. She was born for this role - and I say that as somebody who was initially extremely wary of her casting upon its announcement!

The supporting cast is equally brilliant. Michelle Yeoh’s presence as Madame Morrible and Jeff Goldblum’s whimsical yet menacing Wizard are tantalizing previews of what’s to come in "Part Two". Jonathan Bailey’s portrayal of Fiyero deserves special praise, however. He elevates a character I’ve always liked well enough into someone I adore. Bailey brings a depth, charm, and charisma to Fiyero making his journey deeply compelling.

Oz itself, meanwhile, has never felt so real. The production design, costumes, and practical effects are phenomenal, creating a vibrant, immersive world full of detail and wonder. From the emerald glow of the city to the verdant forests and bustling streets, every frame is brimming with life and authenticity. And the restrained use of CGI is both unexpected and a triumph. Apart from the magical "Animals" and a few scenes toward the end of the movie, most of the sets and props feel tactile, transporting you straight into this magical world. It’s a refreshing throwback to a time when blockbusters relied heavily on practical artistry, further reinforcing the movie’s timeless, Old Hollywood feel.

The musical numbers are the film’s heartbeat, and every single one is pitch-perfect. The choreography is not just fun, but dazzling, while the rearrangements of Stephen Schwartz’s iconic score are fantastic, adapting beautifully to the screen without losing any of their theatrical power. “Defying Gravity” is, of course, the emotional high point, and it had the entire theater in stunned silence before erupting into applause. But the standout numbers don’t stop there! “No One Mourns the Wicked” sets the film’s tone masterfully. “What Is This Feeling?” is delightfully playful. “Dancing Through Life” showcases both stunning choreography and Jonathan Bailey’s charm. “One Short Day” is a visual and auditory feast, brimming with wonderful surprises. Every song feels lovingly translated, retaining its emotional weight and theatricality while embracing the cinematic medium.

Director Jon Chu, alongside writers Winnie Holzman and Dana Fox, has created a film that is both faithful to the Broadway production and innovative in its execution. Chu’s passion for the source material shines through in every frame. He seamlessly blends elements of the stage musical with additional backstory from Gregory Maguire’s novel and entirely new material that enriches the narrative. The film also pays loving homage to the 1939 classic, The Wizard of Oz, from visual motifs to subtle musical cues woven into the score by Stephen Schwartz and John Powell. These references don’t feel forced, but instead enhance the story, bridging the gap between the beloved original film and this contemporary masterpiece, and I'm curious to see how "Part Two" continues to do that, making the stories gel more seamlessly together than even the Broadway show managed to do.

Wicked: Part One captures the magic of classic musicals like The Wizard of Oz while feeling modern and fresh. It’s a rarity in today’s blockbuster landscape: a movie that is colorful, emotionally resonant, extraordinarily timely, and brimming with hope. The production values, storytelling, and performances come together to create something truly special. When the explosive finale culminated in the words “To Be Continued,” the audience in my theater erupted into cheers and applause. There were even spontaneous ovations after several musical numbers throughout - a testament to how much this film resonated with the crowd.

In the end, I feel confident in saying this is not just the best musical adaptation I’ve seen in years, but may very well be the best since The Wizard of Oz. Wicked: Part One is destined to become a classic. It’s sure to be an awards contender, a box-office juggernaut, and an unforgettable experience for fans and newcomers alike. I can’t wait to watch it again multiple times in theaters and revisit it often when it hits home media, and I will eagerly be counting down the long days until the release of "Part Two". Until then, I’ll be reliving this extraordinary experience in my mind and listening to the film's soundtrack on repeat. Whether you’re a fan of the musical or have never seen it before, I urge you to see Wicked: Part One on the biggest screen possible. It’s am absolute triumph in every sense of the word.

Movie Review/ "A Real Pain"

By Anthony Caruso

A Real Pain is a testament to the power of storytelling that seamlessly blends humor, heart, and historical poignancy. Directed by Jesse Eisenberg, who also stars alongside Kieran Culkin, the film is a rich exploration of identity, grief, tradition, and heritage set against the backdrop of Poland—a place steeped in history and resonance for Jewish culture. It’s a striking achievement that manages to be both a personal odyssey and a universal story of connection.

The film follows two cousins - Jesse Eisenberg’s David and Kieran Culkin’s Benji - as they embark on a journey to Poland after a family loss. What begins as a reluctant, quasi-tourist trip soon morphs into a deeper, unexpected confrontation with their own histories, their own personal grief, the lingering echoes of the Holocaust, and how the role the Jewish faith plays in their lives. Eisenberg crafts a screenplay that is both biting and tender, deftly navigating between witty, rapid-fire exchanges and moments of silence that resonate with unspoken pain. It’s this balance between humor and drama that makes A Real Pain truly exceptional. While the humor is sharp and dry, it never feels out of place or disrespectful. Instead, it serves to highlight the contrast between the modern identities of our main characters and the profound legacy of their heritage. The film’s exploration of the Jewish experience—tied to themes of survival, guilt, and resilience—adds layers of meaning that enrich its emotional depth.

The performances in A Real Pain are nothing short of extraordinary. Jesse Eisenberg’s David is a complex figure: intellectual, anxious, and searching for meaning. Eisenberg infuses the character with authenticity and vulnerability, making him relatable yet distinct. Kieran Culkin, on the other hand, shines as Benji, whose more carefree and irreverent personality serves as a counterbalance to Daniel’s introspection. Culkin’s comedic timing is impeccable, but it’s his ability to inject pathos into unexpected moments that cement his performance as one of the film’s standouts. The two of them have incredible chemistry with one another, and it’s easy to believe that the two of them are cousins. The supporting cast, meanwhile, adds further richness to the narrative. Each character contributes to the success of the film and have moments to shine, adding humor, authenticity, and drama to the proceedings.

Visually, the movie is a feast for the eyes. Michał Dymek‘s cinematography showcases Poland in a way that feels both hauntingly beautiful and inviting. Sweeping shots of the country’s cobblestone streets, lush countryside vistas, and somber historical sites juxtapose the film’s lighter moments with its heavier, contemplative ones. This visual storytelling not only enhances the narrative but also adds a layer of richness that invites the viewer to reflect on the passage of time and the permanence of place. The story is also aided by the score, which serves as a subtle yet powerful companion to the story and blends traditional Jewish melodies with modern, emotive compositions. The film’s sound design also plays a crucial role, particularly in scenes set in historical sites, where the ambient noise of footsteps and whispers amplifies the film’s immersive quality.

I could truly go on and on about the themes of identity, loss, and collective memory that the movie delves into. Its examination of the Jewish experience is neither didactic nor overly sentimental, but instead strikes a balance that is both reverent and relatable - even to people, like myself, who are not Jewish. Eisenberg’s direction ensures that these themes are handled with care, using humor to break tension without undermining the film’s more serious moments. It’s the film’s portrayal of grief—not just as an individual burden but as a shared experience that binds people across generations - that is its biggest strength, however; at least as far as I’m concerned. The narrative raises thoughtful questions about what it means to inherit pain and how to honor it without being consumed by it. The result is a film that is deeply personal yet widely resonant, capable of sparking reflection long after the credits roll. It’s truly a triumph on every conceivable level.

In a year full of standout releases, A Real Pain earns its place amongst the best of them. For all of the reasons I laid out above and more, it is sure to be a strong contender during awards season. I highly recommend this film to everyone, and can’t wait to revisit it when it hits streaming.

Movie Review/ "Red One"

By Anthony Caruso

Red One delivers a festive, action-packed romp that breathes new life into the holiday movie genre. While not without its flaws, the film offers enough heart, humor, and inventive storytelling to make it an enjoyable addition to the large stable of Christmas films. Despite mixed reviews and a disappointing box office projection, Red One deserves a second look for those searching for a holiday film that mixes traditional elements with an unconventional twist.

The Red One narrative centers on a unique take on the Christmas mythos, blending action, adventure, and fantasy with a touch of darkness. Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson stars as Callum Drift, one of Santa's E.L.F.s who is tasked with rescuing the famous man with the bag in order to save Christmas from a magical threat. The plot finds its antagonist in the villainous Gryla, a Christmas witch portrayed with icy brilliance by Kiernan Shipka. Her plan is deceptively simple and cleverly understated, presenting a unique twist that doesn’t rely on over-the-top stakes, yet personally affects most people worldwide.

The story surprises with moments that are darker than expected for a holiday movie, lending it an edge that older audiences can appreciate while still maintaining the whimsy that kids love. The blend of classic Christmas motifs with new mythological elements enriches the film’s universe and sets the stage for potential expansions into other holiday tales—a tantalizing possibility that may go unexplored due to poor box office results.

Dwayne Johnson, as expected, plays to his strengths as Callum Drift, bringing his trademark charm and physicality. While Johnson’s persona is beginning to feel a bit familiar, it fits the character well enough to keep audiences entertained. However, it’s Chris Evans and J.K. Simmons who truly shine in their respective roles. Evans brings a surprising depth and comedic touch to his character, making him more than just a sidekick to Johnson’s lead. And while the trailers might have hinted at a modern, gruff reimagining of Santa Claus, Simmons offers a surprisingly traditional, heartfelt take that grounds the story in classic holiday sentiment.

Kiernan Shipka’s Gryla is a standout as well. She portrays her with a compelling mix of menace and allure, making her both a formidable foe and an intriguing character. Her nuanced performance, alongside her character’s deceptively clever plan, brings a refreshing villain to the holiday movie landscape. It's Kristofer Hivju, however, who nearly steals the show as Krampus, playing the part with a mischievous and wild energy that injects humor and unpredictability into the film. His performance adds a delightful layer, making Krampus a memorable supporting character that enhances the movie’s mythology.

The film’s cinematography strikes a balance between the fantastical and the festive. Wide shots of snow-laden landscapes and cozy, twinkling towns blend with dramatic close-ups during tense confrontations. The visual palette is rich with reds, whites, and deep greens, encapsulating the holiday spirit while integrating darker blacks, blues, and purples into the shadowy scenes that signal Gryla’s presence. And though the special effects don’t always hit the mark— some CGI moments are downright bad —they don’t detract from the overall enjoyment. This is, after all, a holiday film, where a little suspension of disbelief goes a long way. The whimsical tone helps the audience overlook these inconsistencies.

The soundtrack features a mix of classic Christmas songs and original score, both of which add warmth and urgency to the film. The music swells appropriately during action sequences and mellows during tender, nostalgic moments, aiding the emotional tone without being overpowering. The makeup team, meanwhile, excels in their portrayal of mythological characters. JK Simmons’ Santa is a blend of traditional looks with a rugged twist, complete with silver-streaked hair and a leather outfit that still feels familiar. The standout, however, is the detailed work on Krampus, making Kristofer Hivju’s character visually captivating. The practical effects on the more fantastical characters shine, contrasting with some of the CGI’s weaker moments.

Red One might not be perfect, but it’s absolutely worth the watch. It’s a film that embraces the magic, warmth, and occasional darkness of the holiday season. Ignore the critics, gather the family, and enjoy this fun, unconventional take on Christmas lore. It might just find its place in your annual holiday movie rotation as I can guarantee you it has mine.

Movie Review/ "Heretic"

By Anthony Caruso

Heretic is a masterstroke of contemporary cinema that effortlessly balances psychological tension with profound thematic exploration. Directed by Scott Beck and Bryan Woods, the film boldly delves into the complex interplay between belief, control, and personal liberation. With standout performances from its star-studded cast, it's easily one of the most compelling films of 2024.

Hugh Grant delivers one of the most mesmerizing performances of his career as the enigmatic and menacing antagonist. Portraying a charismatic and extraordinarily manipulative religious intellectual, Grant infuses the role with a magnetic presence that blurs the line between charm and menace. He commands attention in every scene, showcasing a layered character whose motivations oscillate between altruism and self-serving manipulation. Sophie Thatcher, meanwhile, plays the determined and introspective Sister Barnes, and serves as the movie's emotional anchor. Her performance is raw, heartfelt, and compelling, proving she’s a star capable of holding her own in the presence of acting heavyweights. Then there's Chloe East, who rounds out the cast as Sister Paxton. East complements Thatcher with equal vigor, perfectly playing Paxton’s transformational journey from quiet follower to someone who begins to question everything she once held sacred. East’s ability to express vulnerability and resolve in equal measure adds depth to the narrative, creating a dynamic and authentic on-screen partnership with Thatcher.

The screenplay deftly weaves suspense with moments of philosophical rumination, resulting in a narrative that grips from start to finish, despite many scenes merely depicting three characters standing around debating religion. The dialogue is sharp, with Grant’s character delivering lines steeped in ambiguity and dark humor that leave audiences pondering their meaning long after the credits roll. The directors skillfully construct an atmosphere thick with tension, using dim lighting, deliberate pacing, and close-up shots that amplify the feelings of claustrophobia our protagonists are feeling. Indeed, the cinematography deserves special mention, as it plays a crucial role in conveying the film’s themes. Stark contrasts between light and shadow mirror the dichotomy between faith and doubt, while sweeping shots of the remote and austere, albeit tight, setting evoke an unsettling sense of isolation that accentuates the characters’ inner turmoil.

At its core, Heretic is more than a suspenseful and dramatic horror movie; it’s a meditation on the impact of religious structures on the human psyche. The film poses thought-provoking questions about the nature of belief: When does faith become a prison? When does it serve as a pathway to freedom? Through its characters’ struggles, the film explores how ideology can both uplift and oppress, shaping lives in profound and often unpredictable ways. The story resists easy answers, encouraging viewers to reflect on the influence of dogma in their own lives. This subtle approach ensures that Heretic never feels didactic, but rather like an intricate mosaic of ideas, inviting interpretation and debate.

As I stated above, Heretic is undoubtedly one of the year’s finest films, distinguished by its powerful performances, intelligent script, and skillful direction. It’s a film that lingers, urging reflection on its themes of power, faith, and self-discovery. It's a movie I would highly recommended for anyone who appreciates cinema that challenges and provokes as much as it entertains. It's truly a testament to the power of excellent storytelling, earning its place as an essential watch and an instant classic. I can't wait to revisit it many times in the years to come.

Movie Review/ "Christmas Eve in Miller's Point"

By Anthony Caruso

Tyler Taormina’s Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point is a masterfully crafted, atmospheric homage to holiday gatherings that thrives not on a central plot, but on the intricacies of familial connections. Unlike other films that weave clear story arcs or focus on a protagonist’s journey, Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point is more akin to a collection of living memories, much like Robert Zemeckis' Here from earlier this month. Yet where Here spans decades, Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point anchors itself firmly within one emotionally-charged night—the titular Christmas Eve—and lets the essence of the Balsono family spill across the screen in a vivid, nostalgic tableau.

The film is, at its heart, a series of vignettes capturing moments that resonate deeply with anyone who has experienced the organized chaos of large family gatherings. Set in the early aughts, Taormina’s vision is both specific and universal. Viewers familiar with traditional Italian-American celebrations will recognize every detail: the boisterous conversations that fill a room like a second layer of wallpaper; the glint of mismatched tchotchkes that have seen decades of holidays; the overflow of homemade food that insists love is best expressed through taste; the Christmas lights shining off the snow; etc. This evocative nostalgia can strike viewers in different ways. For some, it is a portal to cherished memories; for others, like myself, it’s a bittersweet reminder of how traditions shift or fade as families spread out, or as members pass on. Watching this movie felt like looking through a frosted window at my own childhood, marked by joyous chaos and laughter—tinged now with the wistful realization that those moments are no longer my present.

One of the film’s most striking elements is its refusal to follow a traditional plot structure. There are numerous threads within the sprawling Balsono family and beyond: the aging matriarch, whose grown children face the painful decision of possibly moving her into assisted living; Kathleen’s strained relationship with her teenage daughter as she reflects on her own mother’s distance; two police officers patrolling a sleepy town, grappling with unspoken romantic tension; an interracial couple navigating subtle familial dynamics; an uncle who channels his creativity through endless cooking; another who dreams of being a writer; teenagers itching to slip away to their friends' gatherings, seeking independence in a night bound by tradition. These narratives unfold like the disparate notes of a holiday song, harmonious but never converging into a single refrain. 

For some viewers, the lack of resolution to any of the above mentioned plot points might be a sticking point. This isn’t a film where everything wraps up neatly by dawn, nor does it try to force epiphanies or holiday miracles. The struggles depicted—whether domestic, generational, or personal—linger without resolution when the credits role, leaving audiences to ponder what will happen when Christmas morning breaks. For me, this worked seamlessly, underlining the fact that real life doesn’t pause for perfectly timed solutions.

Taormina’s directorial finesse is on full display here, blending warmth and an authentic sense of intimacy with just the right amount of melancholy. Co-writing with Eric Berger, Taormina’s dialogue feels lived-in and familiar, effortlessly pulling viewers into rooms that burst with life or settle into quiet, contemplative moments. Every detail—from the shimmering glow of mismatched Christmas lights to the distant carolers outside—immerses the audience in the ambiance of a holiday night that teeters between celebration and reflection. The film’s aesthetics, meanwhile, lean on a cozy, nostalgic palette that amplifies the sense of being cradled within a snow globe. The cinematography captures close-ups that give viewers the sense of being seated at the table, laughing along with the Balsonos or taking a deep breath to soak in the palpable tension of unresolved family disputes.

My biggest complaint about the film? It feels cleaved into two distinct halves: the family-centric narrative and the subplot involving teenagers sneaking out to meet their friends. While the family scenes are rich with emotional depth and familiarity, resonating more powerfully with audiences who appreciate the nuanced dynamics of multi-generational gatherings, the teenage storyline, while not bad, lacks the same level of engagement. This disparity in tone can make parts of the film feel uneven. Additionally, the film ends rather abruptly - even when you consider the fact this is a movie without a real plot - which didn't quite sit well with me. These complaints are the only things stopping me from giving it five stars out of five, though I realize I'm still grading it way higher than most people probably would. What can I say though? Nostalgia is a powerful tool, and this movie brought back a rush of wonderful childhood memories and feelings for me.

In the end, I know that Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point is not a film for everyone. Those who come in looking for a traditional Christmas tale with clear-cut lessons or storylines may leave unsatisfied. But for those willing to be swept up by a patchwork of memories, grounded in details and steeped in sentiment, this movie is a poignant, comforting piece. It serves as a reminder of the fleeting nature of togetherness and how, even in unresolved moments, there’s beauty in simply being with family, however imperfect they may be. This film may leave you smiling or in a state of melancholic wistfulness —embracing the complexity of Christmas past and present, where love, loss, and laughter weave an unending thread through the years - or, if you're like me, it may leave you feeling both. While I know it won't get as much annual play as classics like Home Alone and Christmas Vacation, this is one I definitely see myself revisiting quite often in the future. While I won't recommend rushing to theaters to see it, I do urge you all to give it a chance when it hits streaming - especially if you're an Italian-American who grew up in New York, like myself, and miss the Christmases of yesteryear. I know, I for one, can't wait to watch it again.

Movie Review/ "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever"

By Anthony Caruso

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever is an adaptation that brings Barbara Robinson’s beloved book to the screen with warmth and good intentions. It’s a sweet, family-friendly film that delivers plenty of holiday spirit, though at times it leans too heavily into its religious themes, making its message feel force-fed rather than naturally conveyed.

At its core, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever is a tale about community, redemption, and the true meaning of Christmas, centered around the unruly and chaotic Herdman children. The story unfolds as they unexpectedly take over the local church’s Christmas pageant, upending traditions and challenging the town’s preconceived notions. The film strikes a wonderful balance of humor and heart that manages to evoke genuine emotion and which, having never read the original story, I can only assume is what made it a classic. The movie shines in its moments of levity and chaos, showcasing how the Herdmans’ unpredictable antics push the townspeople to confront their biases and embrace the essence of compassion and understanding. There’s a lot of charm in watching how the worst kids in town manage to change the people around them, transforming the titular Christmas pageant into something surprisingly moving.

The cast delivers solid performances that bring the story to life. The young actors playing the Herdmans manage to strike a balance between wild mischief and underlying vulnerability, making their characters more endearing than just disruptive. The adult cast, meanwhile - particularly Judy Greer's Grace Bradley, who is tasked with directing the pageant - adds warmth and relatability, embodying the frazzled yet well-meaning spirit of people trying to hold it all together during the holidays.That said, while all of the performances are heartfelt, the film’s predictability limits its emotional impact. The characters’ arcs unfold as expected, offering few surprises to seasoned cinephiles. The narrative leans on well-trodden holiday tropes, which, while comforting, make the film feel more like an echo of other Christmas movies rather than something truly unique.

One of the most noticeable aspects of The Best Christmas Pageant Ever is its approach to the religious themes embedded in the story. While the original book is centered around the nativity story and its significance, the film adaptation takes an extremely overt approach in delivering these messages. For all I know, this may resonate as a faithful depiction of the source material’s intentions, but for me, it came across as somewhat preachy. The film could have benefited from a more subtle hand in addressing its spiritual themes, allowing the message to unfold organically rather than hammering it home. This might have helped widen its appeal to audiences who prefer a more balanced approach to holiday storytelling, because in terms of appeal - given the box office tracking - it appears as though this film has none when it comes to the general public.

Despite these drawbacks, the film excels at creating a cozy holiday atmosphere. From the small-town settings to the heartwarming final act, it’s clear that the filmmakers aimed to deliver a feel-good experience that families could enjoy together. The moments leading up to and during the climactic pageant are especially effective, showcasing how chaos and imperfections can give way to unexpected beauty and meaning. Indeed, the entire movie is an earnest reminder that the spirit of Christmas is about community, empathy, and embracing those who may be different from us.

In the end, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever reinforces the notion that sometimes the best holiday stories are the ones that remind us to find joy and compassion in the most unexpected places. It's one that I'll definitely revisit during future holiday seasons.

Movie Review/ "Venom: The Last Dance"

By Anthony Caruso

Venom: The Last Dance is a film that, for better or worse, perfectly encapsulates the spirit of the Venom series: it’s chaotic, messy, full of CGI battles, ridiculously over-the-top, and filled with some awful humor that misses more than it hits. If you've enjoyed the previous two Venom films, you’ll find more of the same here. But if you were hoping for a leap in quality or a redefined tone, prepare for disappointment. Like the first two installments, this third outing feels like a time capsule in many ways. It's very reminiscent of the type of superhero films that dominated the late nineties and early aughts. It's a CGI-fueled spectacle that's flashy but feels dated and has an incoherent plot that's held together mostly by Eddie Brock and Venom's dynamic, which has certainly been the heart of this trilogy.

There’s no question that The Last Dance doubles down on the franchise’s formula. The plot is convoluted if one can piece it together amid all the explosions and monster fights. The film continues Eddie’s journey with the symbiote, Venom, as they face new threats while the inevitability of a looming confrontation with Knull, the symbiote god teased as a universe-ending big bad, lurks ominously in the background. While this setup has potential, it’s sadly bogged down by a lackluster script that prioritizes action over coherence. The result is an entertaining but bewildering final chapter that doesn’t quite know what to do with the cosmic mythology it introduces.

Visually, the movie suffers from over reliance on CGI that, while certainly expensive, lacks polish. The action scenes are chaotic and occasionally thrilling, but the CGI-heavy battles often feel weightless. It’s as though the filmmakers focused on amping up the spectacle without considering the stakes or emotional impact. Knull’s appearance, teased as the “ultimate villain,” is ultimately underwhelming, coming across more as a bland, computer-generated antagonist than the terrifying presence needed to set up future movies. 

The film’s saving grace, once again, is the undeniable chemistry between Tom Hardy's Eddie Brock and his symbiotic alter ego, Venom. Their bickering, bizarre partnership has been the franchise’s signature, and here, it reaches its emotional zenith as the two embark on what is essentially a road trip. There’s an attempt to bring a sense of closure to their story, and while it’s not as effective as it could have been with a stronger trilogy, there’s genuine emotion in their farewell. By the time the credits roll, fans who've followed their relationship from the beginning may find themselves unexpectedly moved. Hardy’s dedication to both the characters of Eddie and Venom has been commendable. He somehow grounds the absurdity with sincerity, making it easier to invest in the story even as it spirals out of control. 

Perhaps the most curious aspect of The Last Dance is its setup for a future crossover within Sony’s Universe of Marvel Characters. With characters like Madame Web, Morbius, and Kraven now floating around Sony’s playground, it seems inevitable they’re building toward some type of team-up event. While logic suggests this will be a mess of epic proportions, it’s hard not to feel a tinge of excitement at the prospect of watching these antiheroes unite to face a common foe. (I mean come on; they're building up Knull as a universe-ending threat for that exact reason, right?) Whether this crossover would be good is another question entirely (though let's face it, it likely wouldn’t be), but there’s undeniable potential for a “so bad it’s good” type of movie, especially if Sony embraces the campy charm that has permeated the "Venom" series.

Ultimately, Venom: The Last Dance won’t change anyone’s mind about the franchise. It’s a far cry from the polished early days of Disney's successful Marvel Cinematic Universe, but it has a certain charm and guilty-pleasure appeal that’s difficult to dismiss entirely. The movie is flawed, to be sure, but it’s still an entertaining romp through Eddie and Venom’s bizarre world. If you’re a fan of the first two Venom films, you’ll likely find something to enjoy here. And while it may not be the best superhero movie of the year, it’s a fun watch for those who’ve grown attached to this unlikely duo. Plus, it's nowhere near as bad as the outings for Madame Web and The Crow have been; and I still enjoyed it more than Deadpool & Wolverine, which was nothing but fan service and didn't even attempt to have a story outside of its multiversal cameos. This is a film I’ll revisit on streaming now and then—not because it’s a cinematic masterpiece, but because it has its own unique brand of chaotic fun.

Movie Review/ "Your Monster"

By Anthony Caruso

Your Monster is the kind of indie gem that quietly sneaks up on you. The trailers may not have sold the film’s unique charm well, but this modern-day twist on "Beauty and the Beast" is much more than meets the eye. With strong performances from its leads, a quirky yet heartfelt story, and a clear message about embracing one’s inner strength, Your Monster emerges as one of the most pleasant surprises of the year. It’s a charming, offbeat, and emotionally resonant film that’s destined to gain a cult following as time goes on.

At its core, Your Monster is a story about self-acceptance, rage, and standing up for oneself, cleverly wrapped in the framework of a dark fantasy-romance. While it draws clear inspiration from "Beauty and the Beast", it’s not a simple rehash. Instead, the film uses the fantastical elements to explore themes of inner turmoil, personal growth, and the complexities of human relationships in a fresh and contemporary way.

The premise follows Melissa Barrera’s character, a young woman struggling to assert herself in both her personal and professional life. Enter Tommy Dewey as the titular “Monster,” a mysterious and brooding figure who may appear grotesque on the outside but is charming and empathetic beneath his monstrous exterior. What follows is a story not only about their unusual bond but also about how Barrera’s character finds the strength to face her inner demons and external obstacles, using the monster (which is literally just named Monster) as both a literal and figurative manifestation of the rage she’s been holding back.

Melissa Barrera is the heart of this film. Her portrayal is nuanced, delivering a character who is relatable, vulnerable, and strong. Throughout the film, she navigates her character’s emotional journey with grace and intensity, making you root for her every step of the way. Barrera has already proven herself as a talented actress, but "Your Monster" shows her at her absolute best - and funniest! She handles both the grounded, human moments and the more fantastical elements with equal ease. It's Tommy Dewey who is the film’s biggest surprise, however. Known for his comedic work in shows like Casual, Dewey channels his sense of comedic timing into his character as he physically transforms into a whole new type of character. Under heavy monster makeup, he manages to bring incredible warmth, wit, and depth to the role. His character could have easily been a one-dimensional "Beast" archetype, but Dewey gives the monster an endearing quality that makes the audience care deeply about him. His chemistry with Barrera is also fantastic, making their unusual relationship both believable and compelling.

One of the film’s strongest elements is how it uses the fantasy genre to explore real-world issues. Your Monster isn’t just a love story, but a tale about embracing the darker sides of yourself and using them as a source of power. The monster, in many ways, is a metaphor for the inner rage Barrera’s character has repressed, and by confronting it, she can take control of her life. The film deals with themes of self-worth, personal agency, and resilience, all while remaining entertaining and visually striking.

While the film’s low-budget indie roots are apparent, that’s part of its charm. The production design gives the film a gothic, fairy-tale atmosphere that feels both whimsical and eerie, while the New York City setting makes it feel particularly modern and contemporary. The monster makeup and practical effects are impressive, adding to the film’s fairy tale aesthetic without ever feeling overly polished or having to rely on CGI. This lends the movie a raw, grounded quality that enhances its emotional impact.

Your Monster may not have had a huge marketing push or the mainstream appeal of a major tentpole feature, but it’s precisely this underdog status that will likely endear it to a dedicated audience. It has all the hallmarks of a film destined to become a cult classic. The film’s humor, heart, and offbeat charm, combined with the stellar performances from its cast, make it stand out in an otherwise crowded movie landscape. This one is truly a must-watch for anyone seeking something a little different, and it’s sure to earn a much wider audience and the acclaim it deserves when it eventually hits streaming.