The film follows fictional versions of Matt Johnson (who is also directing) and Jay McCarrol (who also serves as writer alongside Johnson) as they attempt to book a gig at the Rivoli for their band, Nirvanna the Band. To give you an idea of tone right off the bat, the pair don’t appear to have ever actually contacted the bar’s management, but instead opt for increasingly elaborate plans to force the bar’s hand. These range from hanging posters advertising gigs they haven’t booked yet, to BASE jumping into baseball stadiums. Naturally, one of these plans inadvertently leads to time travel and our duo finds themselves back in 2008, when their past selves had just formed Nirvanna. From there it’s a matter of finding their way back to the present, and seeing if they can’t make a few small tweaks along the way.

That setup may not sound as fresh and original as implied at the beginning of this review, but Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie sets itself apart with its execution. In any given sequence, it might mix true hidden-camera crowd work with scripted bits and paid actors, and then pair it with footage filmed for the web series back in 2008, but not before altering the archival clips to include our characters’ current/future selves… with obligatory stuntmen for the aforementioned BASE jumping sprinkled in of course. Somehow, the film stitches all these disparate elements together seamlessly. It’s wildly impressive and worthy of an extensive behind the scenes documentary of its own.

The inventive filmmaking combined with Johnson and McCarrol’s off-the-wall brand of comedy just works. If you’re able to see this in a theater, do it. The film engages crowds from start to finish, with non-stop laughing and multiple uproars at my own showing. Hearing a full house gradually key in on a joke is so much fun, and is something Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie continuously sets up so well. Whether it’s riffing off changes in socially acceptable language or going full send with Chekhov’s Gun, the film knows how to deliver a punchline.

While Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie may be hard to describe, it’s not hard to recommend. It’s rare to see such an obvious passion project, at this budget, executed so successfully. At any given moment the film could collapse under the weight of its own ambitious construction, but it doesn’t. It instead relentlessly delivers joke after joke, landing way more than any film has a right to. Find a packed room or theater, grab some popcorn, and kick back and listen as Nirvanna brings the house down.

The post Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie – Review appeared first on MovieRiffing.

To get the basics out of the way, the directing, acting, and shot selection in Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die all result in a generally well put together sci-fi adventure / satire. Some of the CGI in the third act doesn’t exactly dazzle, but it more than serves its purpose. From a technical perspective director Gore Verbinski does his part, and makes sure to add plenty of his signature off-kilter flair and humor. With that said, the screenplay is the real star of the show. Writer Matthew Robinson’s narrative and themes are what give the film its bite, and are what will stick with you long after the credits roll.

I honestly haven’t been this surprised by a film in a long time. The way Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die tackles contemporary themes of AI, screen addiction, harmful escapism, school shootings (!), and the subsequent preying on the grieving deeply resonates. This is a film that defiantly shouts into the void – shouting at all we’ve already resigned ourselves to. It’s a film where the lead explicitly spells out, multiple times, that we and he have already lost to the matrix. There’s already giant cat-centaurs lurking about. However, while we might already be past the point of no return, it insists the good fight is still worth fighting anyway, no matter how long or how many times it takes.

As Sam Rockwell and his jolly band of misfits traverse the neighborhood and an escalating series of confrontations, from run of the mill hitmen to AI-children demigods, they continuously confront these very issues. We watch as they grapple with the disconnect between their own lived experiences and truths, and what the rest of society is telling them is now table stakes.

It takes an outsider (Michael Pena) to recognize that the schoolchildren are not alright and that the teachers have already accepted defeat. It takes a newly grieving mother (Juno Temple) to (somewhat) realize how society has commoditized the pain from school shootings instead of trying to stem the violence itself. These characters live in an absurd world that’s absurdly not too different than our own. The only difference being, they have a schizophrenic looking Sam Rockwell forcing them, under threat of murder-suicide, into actual action (well that, and again, the giant cat-centaur).

While everyone else has already succumbed to indifference, accepting that society has slipped away, Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die reassures you that you aren’t crazy for noticing how far gone we are. It reassures you that it’s okay to scream, that it’s okay to point out this isn’t normal, and that it’s essential to remember this isn’t inevitable.

Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die is a film that forces you to confront your reality, even if on the surface it’s not saying anything too revolutionary and might appear overly preachy at first blush. The themes it confronts are incredibly pertinent to the moment, and the way it navigates these tough conversations with a mix of absurdism and dark humor is masterful. Not even a third act that comes dangerously close to grinding the whole thing to a halt can derail it. Director Gore Verbinski definitely returned with a vengeance, and is hoping you’ll join him.

The post Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die – Review appeared first on MovieRiffing.

No Other Choice follows Yoo Man-su (Lee Byung-hun, of recent Squid Game fame), a long time paper industry professional. After 25 years of loyalty, his company abruptly lays him off and casts him off into the world to fend for himself. As his homemaker wife Mi-ri (Son Ye-jin), teenage step son Si-one (Woo Seung Kim), and young neurodivergent cello prodigy daughter Ri-one (So Yul Choi) start to notice their carefully cultivated lives fray at the edges, Man-su realizes he’ll have to take his job hunt (*wink wink*) to the next level. With his Pulp Man of the Year award not doing the heavy lifting he had hoped it would, Man-su shifts from trying to out-class his competition, to trying to out-last them instead. Of course, what kind of man would he be if he didn’t try and hurry them along?

One of the first things you’ll notice on a craft level with No Other Choice is that Park Chan-wook considers every frame. Shots are grand and filled with vibrant color, and the camera has tremendous confidence in letting the perfectly choreographed scenes unfold. No Other Choice is consistently and beautifully shot.

Its leading man, Lee Byung-hun, also turns in a commendable performance as Yoo Man-su. He brilliantly captures the psyche of a man teetering on the edge, with just the right amount of darkly comedic flair sprinkled in. Tagging along with Man-su as he glimpses into the personal lives of his soon to be victims is a delightfully voyeuristic adventure and is immediately gripping.

Those peeks into lives beyond Man-su’s are where No Other Choice really finds its footing and begins to shine brightest. Those are the moments when the film first starts to peel back the curtain on its world, and offer a fresh perspective on what you’ve been watching. It’s the first time you truly get to see the full extent of the cognitive dissonance on display, as everyone – everyone, does what they “need to do” to survive. Whether that’s laying off their friends, stealing phones, seducing the neighbor, assassinating the competition, having an affair, drinking away their sorrows, or any other vice under the sun. And while it might be cleaner and more satisfying to simply blame this all on capitalism or any single economic system, the overwhelming variety of vice points to something much larger – that this is a fundamentally human experience. It’s a coping mechanism for survival that can lead even the best down a dark and winding path that just doesn’t make a whole lot of sense by the end. And it can do that because, people at least believe they have no other choice.

While No Other Choice is enamoring on both technical and thematic levels, it does lack some of the moment-to-moment bite that makes Park Chan-wook’s most well known films stand out. Make no mistake, this is no Oldboy (2003), The Handmaiden, or Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance. The buildup to No Other Choice’s crescendo is much more drawn out, and while all of the pieces fall into place by the end, there are several noticeable points in the second act where it starts to drag. It never approaches “unenjoyable”, but it doesn’t emotionally escalate like Park Chan-wook’s best works.

While No Other Choice might not have as much bite as the Vengeance Trilogy, it’s not fair to make a man do the same trick for the rest of his life… even if it’s a really good trick. That goes for directors as well as paper professionals. No Other Choice still delivers in spades when it comes to its characters, cinematography, and overarching themes, and is definitely worthy of inclusion in Park Chan-wook’s stellar filmography. So when you have a moment of peace in your life as you look out from the mountaintop, remember to take a deep breath and maybe give this one a watch, as you never know how long you’ll be up there or what you’ll have to do to make it back.

The post No Other Choice – Review appeared first on MovieRiffing.

Avatar: Fire and Ash follows the escalating conflict on Pandora as Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) and Neytiri (Zoe Saldana) process their son Neteyam’s death and encounter a new violent, fire-worshiping tribe led by fresh antagonist, Varang (Oona Chaplin). Varang makes quick friends with Jake’s recurring enemey, Colonel Miles Quaritch (Stephen Lang), and aids him in kidnapping his estranged son, Spider (Jack Champion), and capturing Jake for betraying the RDA (the human organization intent on exploiting Pandora for its plethora of valuable resources).

That’s a lot of moving pieces, and you can certainly tell that Avatar: Fire and Ash struggles to put them all into place. Similar to Avatar: The Way of Water, this latest film is noticeably choppy before it settles in for its major action set pieces. While James Cameron certainly delivers on the spectacle and action you would expect in an Avatar climax as he gets to smash all his toys together, the editing you have to endure to get to that point can be rather disorienting. Avatar: Fire and Ash is constantly jumping from topic to topic and scene to scene. The film will often quickly mention or show something, and then almost immediately reintroduce it as a core plot point or motivator. With so much to touch on and so many pieces to move, there’s simply not enough time to let everything breathe, even with a 3hr 17min runtime.

The constant focus shifts might be more forgivable with a more compelling script, but Avatar: Fire and Ash stumbles there as well. Lines are often… uninspired, to say the least. Prepare yourself to hear “bro” at least 1000 times and an out of place “no shit” when you least expect it. The line delivery also doesn’t help. Jack Champion is noticeably bad as Spider throughout, and is not improving as much as everyone had hoped between films. Having to listen to him flatly deliver his lines is incredibly grating. His character is essentially an excuse for the VFX artists to show off their CGI work with a human actor in frame. Honestly, it’s so impressive that it almost makes his character bearable. Almost.

On the bright side, the new villain, Varang, is the clear standout of the film. She injects the most new life into Avatar: Fire and Ash and easily steals the spotlight in any scene she’s in. Her ruthlessly violent personality and obsession with fire lets the film cleanly pair her up with Colonel Miles Quaritch (the big bad from the first movie, if you don’t remember). Varang’s legitimately fun and engaging character brings out the most from the Colonel, and let’s him shine as a much more compelling character than in Avatar: The Way of Water.

Even with all the above negativity, Avatar: Fire and Ash still manages to deliver some absolutely jaw dropping scenes. The stunning visuals, moving score, and triumphant battles all manage to pick up a bit of the slack from the remainder of the film’s parts. The climax is what Avatar: The Way of Water’s should have been, and feels as though it has finally closed the door on this latest arc. However, it also comes across as somewhat of retread of the prior film. For all the advertising focus on “fire”, Avatar: Fire and Ash largely sections itself off in the previously introduced water biomes. While the second film treats the audience to a fresh new corner of Pandora, this one struggles to establish its own identity.

While I will continue to defend the first Avatar and James Cameron’s obsession with this fascinating world, if the scripts are going to be this stilted with stuck in the mud narratives, then this franchise may be starting to overstay its welcome. At some point the visuals, score, and expansive lore of Pandora will start to buckle under the weight of all the mediocre baggage stacked on top. As of now this is still an experience worth seeing on the big screen, but noticeable cracks are starting to show. If this series is going to continue, hopefully Avatar: Fire and Ash represents James Cameron getting his toys in order, ready to move onto tighter, more focused entries.

The post Avatar: Fire and Ash – Review appeared first on MovieRiffing.

Timothee Chalamet does a tremendous job of selling this raw passion. Maybe it’s because it mirrors his own drive as an actor, or maybe it’s because native New Yorkers are just a little off, but whatever the reason, he delivers one of the year’s best performances. Similarly, Gwyneth Paltrow, Tyler The Creator, and Odessa A’zion all shine as Marty’s older mistress, hustling partner, and girlfriend, respectively. Even the much maligned Keven O’Leary captures the essence of a ruthless businessman ready to capitalize on any opportunity… naturally. Marty Supreme carries on in Uncut Gems footsteps, and lets Josh Safdie show off his talent as he draws the most out of a somewhat unconventional cast.

To detail all of Marty Supreme’s many diversions and side quests would take far too long, but know this is no straightforward narrative. While the overarching goal of standing at the ping-pong mountaintop is always looming, Marty has to scrape and crawl to get there. Plans that start out promising predictably fail, only to incur more hardship for our hero. Those failures come with their own new sets of demands, spawning a whole new set of plans. Each time Marty doubles down on his determination to succeed in spite of his doubters, and finds a sparkling new way to rob Peter to pay Paul. Whether that’s hustling kids at the bowling alley, finding a dog he himself lost, seducing a married woman, or subjecting himself to the whims of that very mistress’ husband, Marty will do whatever it takes to reach Japan and claim his crown.

As you sit back and watch Marty’s unwavering drive, with the triumphantly nerve wracking soundtrack seemingly never taking a breath, you can’t help but feel your heart race. Marty’s dream is commendable, but he is not a good person (at least on the surface). He does not let rules or morals slow him down. He doesn’t pause to assess a situation. He flows with the momentum and strikes when he sees a window, whatever or wherever that might be. Marty has a singular goal – greatness, and he knows he has the capability to see it through. Marty Supreme holds up the core of the American Dream and puts it on full display, warts and all. It’s up to you to decide if Marty, and all of us, have gone too far.

From the opening overture to the final scream, Marty Supreme takes viewers on a non-stop ride through the life of a New York City hustler, ping-pong prodigy, womanizer, father, shoe salesman, and above all else, competitor. The film revels in the madness caused by one failed plan after another, continuously stirring the pot until something greater comes from the entropy. Until we see a man on the mountaintop. A man who has done it all at so many others’ expense. With those oh so poor others having tried to do the same. How much is too much when it comes to achieving your dreams? What are you willing to sacrifice? What have you convinced yourself is worth breaking? Where does that leave us as a collective? Regardless of your assuredly fluid answers to those questions left in Marty’s wake, only one thing is is for certain at the end of the day, and that’s that Marty reigns supreme.

The post Marty Supreme – Review appeared first on MovieRiffing.

Warning! Spoilers for Kill Bill: Vol. 1, Kill Bill: Vol. 2, and Kill Bill: The Whole Bloody Affair below. If you haven’t already seen Vol. 1 and Vol. 2, please do yourself a favor and fix that.

Kill Bill: Vol. 1 & Vol. 2 (2003 & 2004) follow The Bride (Uma Thurman), a former assassin who awakens from a four year coma after her jealous ex-lover, Bill (David Carradine), attempts to have her murdered during her wedding rehearsal. We watch as she seeks to extract revenge against all those who wronged her, her husband to-be, and her unborn daughter. Both volumes are generally highly regarded for their slick editing and “jukebox” style – remixing the films, genres, songs, and tropes that Tarantino holds oh so dear. The pair are a true film nerd’s love letter to the medium.

With that said, the one major compromise Tarantino had to make when releasing the originals, is that he never wanted them to be separate works in the first place. He always envisioned them as one project, yet allowed himself to be (rightfully) convinced that a nearly five hour long film would not be commercially well-received. The Whole Bloody Affair is Kill Bill the way it was originally meant to be seen.

Not only does The Whole Bloody Affair stitch together the two original films along with an additional intermission, it completely re-frames Vol. 2. I personally always preferred Vol. 1, and at the risk of embarrassing myself, found Vol. 2 just a bit too slow, a little too down tempo… almost like it was the second, concluding half of a much more boisterous and indulgent affair (wink wink). With The Whole Bloody Affair removing Vol. 1’s cliffhanger reveal of The Bride’s child surviving the incident, and allowing us to go on that emotional journey with her, the entirety of Vol. 2 feels that much more coherent and impactful. Seemingly small changes made to connect these two films end up truly elevating the entire experience.

In addition to the obvious stitching together of Vol. 1 and Vol. 2, The Whole Bloody Affair also includes the iconic Crazy 88 fight scene in color. It’s fun and plenty bloody, but honestly the black and white version found in the original release is already a chic stylistic choice. So that change is a wash. In this latest version, you also get to see The Bride chop off Sofie Fatale’s (Julie Dreyfus) second arm, which again is neat, but doesn’t exactly add a whole new layer to the narrative. It’s an interesting addition that aids with continuity, but not much beyond that.

The largest source of new content actually comes in the form of an extended anime backstory for O-Ren Ishii (Lucy Liu). If you’re a sucker for badass 2D animation, this sequence delivers in spades. It might throw off the original film’s incredibly hard hitting timing just a smidge, but fans of the original definitely won’t mind spending a few extra minutes in this beautifully drawn flashback.

There’s also a… Fortnite tie-in after the credits? The Lost Chapter: Yuki’s Revenge animates an additional scene that Tarantino was never able to bring into the films, and feature’s Uma Thurman vocally reprising her role as The Bride. It depicts Gogo Yubari’s (Chiaki Kuriyama) twin sister, Yuki (Miyu Ishidate Roberts), seeking revenge on The Bride in Los Angeles for killing Gogo. It’s not particularly worth watching, and a number of in-universe Fortnite gags heavily weigh it down, but Tarantino clearly positions it as a thing unto itself and it isn’t worth getting up in arms over.

Overall, while the new scenes (both long and short) are welcome additions for long-time fans, the true value of Kill Bill: The Whole Bloody Affair is in what it does to elevate Vol. 2. No longer does Vol. 2 awkwardly act as the conclusion to a much more “exciting” film you watched either days or years prior. Now, it delivers its emotional punches and twists in real time, elevating the experience across both volumes of content. If you can find a theater to watch this in 70mm film, it only enhances the experience even further. Kill Bill: The Whole Bloody Affair is the definitive way to watch Quentin Tarantino’s love letter to cinema, and should be required viewing for any fans of the originals.

The post Kill Bill: The Whole Bloody Affair – Review appeared first on MovieRiffing.

The Running Man (2025) follows our hero, Ben Richards (Glen Powell), as he competes in the dystopian future’s most popular game show, “The Running Man”, to win the money his sick daughter (Alyssa Benn) and struggling wife (Jayme Lawson) need to escape the thralls of poverty. To do so, Ben must survive for 30 days while both professional assassins and goon squads hunt him down. Regular citizens even get in on the action by reporting his every move for reward money of their own. It’s a fight for survival as the show’s producer (Josh Brolin) progressively raises the stakes all in the name of ratings.

To address the positives first, Glen Powell turns in yet another compelling performance. Powell first showcased his leading man capabilities in 2023’s Hit Man, and he continues to showcase them here. His charisma and screen presence are often the only things holding The Running Man (2025) together, and they manage to do so without much strain. Colman Domingo also turns in a fun performance as Bobby Thompson, the show’s over-the-top, eccentric host who pursues audience engagement over all else. His flexible relationship with ideals like “truth” and “moral obligation” gives the film a sturdy thematic foundation to build off of.

Beyond the performances, there are a few chuckle-worthy gags in the later stages of the hunt, and an admittedly decent stretch in the second act where the film finds its rhythm.

Unfortunately, that’s about it for nice things to say, which brings us to The Running Man (2025)’s long list of issues. The biggest, and perhaps most disappointing, is that the film truly could have been directed by anyone. Edgar Wright’s trademark editing, witty dialogue, and impeccable pacing are all noticeably absent from the very first scene. Instead, the film blitzes through the first act with a clear lack of direction. Nothing is given time to breathe. Within 30 seconds Ben goes from promising to never go on the life threatening show to being fitted for his onscreen uniform, and it definitely doesn’t come across as intentional. The film never even gives us enough time to start caring about Ben’s sick daughter, which is rather problematic as her illness is the catalyst for the entire plot.

To extend an olive branch, The Running Man (2025) does obviously try and lean into the cheesy over-the-top satire the material lends itself to, but it never quite clicks. This then drags down all the other creative choices that were clearly made with that angle in mind. It also sadly gives the studio an excuse to jam in as much product placement as they can, and they certainly take advantage. Monster, anyone? No? How about some Liquid Death instead?

As previously mentioned, the The Running Man (2025) does start to find its stride in the second half, but horrific child acting and cringe-worthy reoccurring characters continually interrupt it. What’s worse, is that some of these awkward gags sneak back into the final moments of the film, robbing it of any opportunity to end on a high note. So what we’re left with is a rushed and messy first act, some passable action in the middle, and a rudely interrupted climax.

With all these structural issues you may be wondering if the film at least has any rich thematic layers to dig into. And deep down, you already know the answer. The Running Man (2025) only offers some very surface-level critiques of the media, and of its role in sowing division within and between social classes. It also, without ever name dropping the technology, gently warns of how AI can further those deceptions. Nothing particularly novel.

Ultimately, The Running Man (2025) falls short on multiple levels without ever crossing the line into being truly awful. Edgar Wright’s fingerprints are conspicuously missing, the pacing is haphazard and breakneck, many performances are downright embarrassing, and the film does its best to sabotage itself when it finally tries to land the plane. Add in the fact that it has shockingly little to say about a country run by a game show producer with roving bands of headhunter goons (bad or good), and I’d say to run far away from this one.

The post The Running Man (2025) – Review appeared first on MovieRiffing.

Bugonia follows our two protagonists, Teddy (Jesse Plemons) and Don (Aidan Delbis), as they kidnap and torture Michelle Fuller (Emma Stone), a high-powered female CEO. They operate under the belief that Michelle is not just a cold and calculating corporate elite, but that she is actually an alien from Andromeda intent on destroying the Earth. Her and her brethren supposedly brainwash the masses, manipulate individuals through their baser instincts, and wage ecological warfare through honey bee colony collapse disorder (CCD). In case you haven’t picked up on it yet, Bugonia takes aim at the seemingly ever growing and prominent class divide in modern society. The twist, of course, is that those “elites” might really be from another world.

As you might imagine, two conspiracy obsessed recluses attempting to torture a “confession” from a corporate executive inevitably results in a tug-of-war, where each side attempts to present their case. This back and forth is where Bugonia predictably has the most to say. On one hand you have the elites, overworking and exploiting their historically obedient and dutiful worker bees, and on the other hand you have the abused working class, who realize something is wrong, but resort to the most farcical of conspiracies to explain their suffering. Regardless of who you sympathize with, when these two groups sit down at the proverbial and quite literal kitchen table, conversation grinds to a halt. One side sees the other as predestined losers and the other quite literally fails to see the humanity in their opposition. Instead of finding common ground, corporate jargon and hallucinatory ramblings fly back and forth. Progress stalls, the queen languishes, and the worker bees fall further into disillusionment. The colony teeters on collapse.

While the opening act does a commendable job of introducing us to our outlandish cast of characters, and the last third truly goes off the rails in the most delightful ways (including a gratifyingly poignant conclusion), the core of the film does wear on. Emma Stone and Jesse Plemons deliver the performances required for such a dialogue heavy film, but Lanthimos leans too much on repetition. Seemingly in an effort to retain some of the pure zaniness of the original South Korean outing, the film repeats jokes (usually with Don, to poor effect) to fill space while the second act takes its time to dryly move the narrative along. While a certain level of deadpan is expected in a Lanthimos production (and by certain level, I mean a tremendous amount), he fails to find the right cadence in Bugonia.

With Bugonia, Yorgos Lanthimos sets out to remake one of South Korea’s true dark comedy cult classics, Save the Green Planet!. On nearly every technical level, Lanthimos succeeds. And even beyond the craft, Bugonia delivers its message in a much more impactful and timely manner. It thoroughly explores the unending conflict between queens and worker bees, and doesn’t stop at simply noting that the social contract between the two has deteriorated. It casts aside the notion that the colony is failing for mysterious, unexplainable reasons, but instead asserts that no one has any realistic interest in saving the hive. While some second act pacing issues hold it back, and Don could probably use another re-write, Bugonia is another strong entry in Lanthimos’ rapidly growing catalogue.

The post Bugonia – Review appeared first on MovieRiffing.

John Wick: Chapter 4 opens with John Wick (Keanu Reeves) and the Bowery King (Laurence Fishburne) ominously discussing the onset of John’s new counter-offensive. From there John kills some people, other people get increasingly upset and punish his friends to varying degrees, and ultimately John challenges the new big bad, Marchese de Gramont (Bill Skarsgard), to a duel in order to secure his freedom from the High Table. Admittedly, the plot is a bit thin, even if the list of exotic destinations is not. It serves its purpose well enough, acting as the connective tissue for the real reason you’re watching this and even closes on an emotionally touching note. The acting itself is similarly serviceable. Bill Skarsgard dons a truly insane French accent and Keanu’s struggle with the spoken word continues. That’s not to say the performances take away from the film, for the most part they actually work quite well with the overwhelming style emanating from every frame.

Speaking of exotic destinations, oh boy does this film have a lot of them. New York City, Japan, France, and more turn this entry into a globetrotting epic. Only the quality of one of the first locations, Morocco, feels a bit out of place in the grand scheme of things, especially since it houses the inciting incident of the whole story. Watching John chase a handful of men around on horseback in the empty desert before executing a (very important) man who might as well be at a picnic just feels underdeveloped compared to the brilliance of what quickly follows.

And what follows truly is brilliant. Once you get past that one rushed scene, every frame oozes style. Bright, vivid, neon colors paint the screen. The electrifying soundtrack sets the blood racing. Whereas earlier entries had one or two truly standout sequences, along with some filler duds, each and every scenario here impresses. There is no shortage of sexy, loud, and stylish locations for John and friends to cause absolute mayhem in. Demand to see this on the biggest screen with the loudest speakers possible. The only drawback is the often noticeable CGI backgrounds, but again, they mostly melt into the positively overpowering decadence of the scenes- so they work.

Now let’s address the obvious. The real reason you’re watching John Wick: Chapter 4 isn’t the acting, overarching narrative, or (thankfully) non-existent social commentary. You’re here for the stunts and oh my does John Wick deliver. Throughout the entire film, the fight choreography is truly insane and incredibly inventive at every opportunity. Whether the characters on screen are using guns, knives, katanas, nunchucks, suits, dogs, or pencils it all flows so fluidly and shockingly never feels silly. The film consistently one-ups itself when it comes to the creativity of the deaths as well. Shooting arrows through arms to create human pinwheels, scaling men’s backs with knives, and lighting enemies on fire with dragon breath ammunition are just a few examples of what keeps you fully engrossed in the ever changing action. Director Chad Stahelski even manages to blend humor into the fight choreography itself without undermining the overall tone of the film, which deserves a round of applause. Caine (Donnie Yen) is simply the cherry on top. A former friend of John Wick turned enemy, the blind assassin acts as an inspired creative wrinkle to the numerous deadly dances. You have not seen door bells used like this before.

John Wick: Chapter 4 is the culmination of the entire series and represents the perfection of all of the different ideas and concepts that have been toyed with up until now. The film’s lengthy runtime flies by, with every second of it earned. It not only delivers top notch inventive action sequences, a Hotline Miami inspired climax which will leave you mesmerized, and a satisfying payoff to the earlier entries’ elaborate world building, but it accomplishes all that with such visual and auditory style and finesse that it honestly sets a new standard for martial arts films moving forward. John Wick: Chapter 4 is a crowning achievement for the genre.

The post John Wick: Chapter 4 – Review appeared first on MovieRiffing.

At the center of Titane’s madness is Alexia/Adrien (Agathe Rousselle), who at a young age caused her father (Bertrand Bonello) to crash the car while vying for his ever distant attention. This results in the installation of a metal plate in her head and the doctors advising her father to watch for any abnormalities. Hint hint. Without giving too much away, Alexia goes on a bit of a killing spree and winds up disguising herself as Adrien, the long missing son of fire chief Vincent Legrand (Vincent London). Agathe Rousselle gives a phenomenal performance throughout her character’s transformation from Alexia to Adrien. Similarly, Vincent London truly captures a broken father’s desperation.

Underneath Titane’s bizarre sensibilities is a strong undercurrent of people looking for family. However, not just a superficial family defined by blood relations, but a family where each member openly loves and supports the others’ honest selves. We watch as Alexia craves paternal love and acts out predictably, then experiences an avalanche of unrequited affection that simultaneously corrupts other “chosen” family members, and then settles with the family that embraces each other for who they actually are. A family where a child has to show her true self and gender to her father despite his expectations, and a father who has to come to terms with his aging masculinity. Simply acknowledging what a family member tells you and truly embracing and supporting the concept are two very different things, and sometimes life has a way of confronting you with realities you have been hopelessly trying to avoid.

While on Titane’s wild ride, a haunting soundtrack, dazzling cinematography, and stylish saturated colors will accompany you. Whether you are watching dancers on the hoods of cars at an auto show, Alexia dramatically marching towards her newfound lover while dripping with water, a man simply playing with a lighter, or an eruption of flames Titane does not disappoint visually.

One area the film does stumble in is how it handles the second half. As Titane (somewhat) pulls away from absurdities and thrills in favor of more tender moments, it also loses some of the edge and shock value that the first half successfully relies upon. In doing so Titane also loses a bit of itself until it comes roaring back in the conclusion. The film puts its more outrageous concepts on the back burner until it’s ready to deal with them again, and in doing so relinquishes some of its much earned momentum.

From the opening scene, Titane continuously doubles down on its own outrageous absurdity until it suddenly pulls back. You go from watching a thriller, to body horror, to something that has a lot to say about what it means to be family. Specifically, what it means to be family in action, not just by blood or oil. Titane somehow addresses gender fluidity, the role of parents to support and accept, the male ego slipping as bodies and testosterone age away, and the opportunity to choose a family not given to you by birth all while bombarding the screen with gore and squirm inducing violence. You find you cannot look away from these disturbing images partly because of how beautifully Titane presents them and partly because they all have something to say. Even though the film may retreat too far from its own deliriousness in the second half, it comes speeding back just in time for a finale that will have you guessing until its last push. Strap in because Titane is one hell of a ride.

The post Titane – Review appeared first on MovieRiffing.