Author: Jeremy Werner

Starring: Chloe Levine, Will Peltz and Peter Vack
Directed by: Rachael Cain
Rated: NR
Running Time: 92 minutes
Yellow Veil Pictures

Our Score: 3 out of 5 Stars

Humans spend a lot of time trying to decode our dreams. We may hesitate to admit why something as surreal as an ex’s head on a goat’s body matters, but we still wonder why our brains conjured it up. That’s why when we meet Gemma (Chloe Levine), we’re immediately drawn in. She’s a small-town girl who’s come to LA to become a star. Until that happens, she’s pulling graveyard shifts at a sleep clinic called Somnium, where her job is to monitor and record the dreams of strangers.

But Gemma starts seeing something in those dreams. At first it’s just a shadow. Then it appears more frequently. Sometimes it creeps from one patient’s nightmare to another, until it begins to seep into her waking life. Or maybe she’s still dreaming. Imagine if Adult Swim’s Dream Corp LLC turned into an evolving psychological horror and you’ve got “Somnium.”

The film would work better with fewer characters outside of Gemma. Many side characters feel introduced without clear purpose or payoff. An aging actor offers her a shortcut into the industry—whether sincerely or as part of some mass dream manipulation is never made clear. Noah (Will Peltz), Somnium’s leader, is treated like a pivotal figure, but we never get close enough to him to understand who he is or what he wants. The film keeps pulling us back to Gemma’s perspective, which is a smart anchor, but giving these supporting characters more shape might’ve enriched her internal conflict without needing so much exposition.

That’s the film’s biggest flaw and unfortunately it’s not a minor one. “Somnium” sometimes feels unsure of its own narrative focus. These detours dilute the tension and stretch a lean story longer than it needs to feel. Still, Cain delivers a solid, at times chilling thriller. Levine carries the film with quiet intensity, which feels fitting for a character unsure of her own abilities. And Cain, in her directorial debut, crafts genuine unease from familiar genre elements. The shadowy antagonist may not be wholly original, but the way it’s framed and escalated within dreams gives it a fresh edge.

“Somnium” ends on a note that’s mildly satisfying, though still loaded with unanswered questions. Whether that’s intentional ambiguity or not, it leaves the story feeling just short of fully realized. But as a debut feature, Cain’s control over tone and visuals suggests a promising future, but with a more focused script next time, something great might follow.

Starring: Austin Butler, Regina King and Zoe Kravitz
Directed by: Darren Aronofsky
Rated: R
Running Time: 107 minutes
Sony Pictures

Our Score: 4 out of 5 Stars

It’s always hard to know what you’re going to get from Darren Aronofsky. Three years ago, he gave us a rough, intimate drama that won Brendan Fraser an Oscar in “The Whale.” Eight years ago, he gave us one of Jennifer Lawrence’s lowest career points in “mother!” 11 years ago, he managed to get Fox News riled up over “Noah.” So, what should audiences expect from his latest film, “Caught Stealing?” It’s a violent, offbeat misadventure through 1990s New York City; a genre mashup of crime, thriller, comedy, and an oddly specific love for the San Francisco Giants.

Hank (Austin Butler) tends bar at a grimy, hole-in-the-wall dive. He drinks with customers, stumbles home to his dingy apartment, keeps drinking, and sleeps with Yvonne (Zoe Kravitz), who genuinely loves him despite his downward spiral. Once, Hank was a rising baseball star with legitimate MLB dreams, but alcohol wrecked those plans, quite literally. His dear friend booze continues to derail his life, pulling him deeper into trouble when he crosses paths with both the Russian and Jewish mob.

Everything kicks off when Hank agrees to watch his neighbor Russ’ (Matt Smith) cat while Russ heads back to England to care for his ailing father. Unfortunately, Russ leaves behind dangerous unfinished business, and a string of furious mobsters want something badly enough to beat Hank within an inch of his life and start killing anyone around him. What exactly they want becomes Hank’s mystery to solve, and Aronofsky uses that hook to drive a steadily escalating spiral of violence, paranoia, and absurdity.

Most of “Caught Stealing” thrives on tension and intrigue: what’s hidden in Hank’s past, what’s driving the chaos, and how far he’ll go to survive. Aronofsky stages the violence with care by grounding the stakes when it matters but leaning into absurdity when the tone allows it. The film moves between gritty realism and pitch-black comedy, creating a sense of unpredictability even when the plot itself edges toward the familiar.

The ensemble helps hold it all together. Character actors like Vincent D’Onofrio, Carol Kane, and even Bad Bunny bring bursts of personality to every chaotic encounter. Butler’s brooding performance anchors the chaos, though the tonal mismatch between his straight-edged intensity and the stranger supporting turns occasionally clashes. Still, the off-balance approach mostly works, creating a sense of danger that feels earned rather than manufactured.

Ultimately, “Caught Stealing” is a pleasant surprise because it’s part “North by Northwest” paranoia and part “Big Lebowski” absurdism. It doesn’t quite reach the brilliance of either, but it refuses to play by genre rules, and there’s an admirability in that. It’s bloody, darkly funny, and weirdly endearing. Considering Aronofsky adapted this from a series of books, Sony might greenlit a sequel or two if the box office dictates it. If they do, I’m in for more breezy, violent fun.

Starring: Katie Douglas, Aaron Abrams and Carson MacCormac
Directed by: Eli Craig
Rated: R
Running Time: 96 minutes
Shudder

Our Score: 3.5 out of 5 Stars

“Clown in a Cornfield” finds itself in a peculiar spot. It stands in the long shadow of director Eli Craig’s debut, “Tucker and Dale vs. Evil,” even though that film came out 15 years ago. Expectations are immediately high for subversive laughs, heartfelt slaughter, and buckets of gore. While it doesn’t fully step out from behind that legacy, Craig channels the energy of his title character, Frendo, slicing through a brisk 96-minute runtime to deliver a clear message: Boomers would rather kill us than admit they’re wrong.

Quinn (Katie Douglas) is pulled from her East Coast life to the rural town of Kettle Springs, Missouri, a place that romanticizes the past with its annual Founders Day Festival. Locals still pine for the glory days of Baypen Corn Syrup, which once provided the town with jobs, prosperity, and purpose. For Midwesterners like me, the imagery is all too familiar. The background and town are littered with empty factory remnants, a dying downtown square, judgmental stares, and teens getting drunk in cornfields. It’s not long before Quinn learns about Frendo the Clown, Baypen’s old mascot. And soon after, meets him face to face.

Based on the 2020 young adult novel, the film embraces its source material’s corny tone. It never takes itself too seriously, never fully leans into scares, and doesn’t do much to subvert the slasher genre. In many ways, “Clown in a Cornfield” functions as a slasher intro course for younger or less horror-inclined audiences, while still offering enough blood and bite to entertain veterans like me who’ve seen one too many murderous clowns, horny teens, and small-town massacres.

The teen cast doesn’t get much depth to work with. Their scenes often serve the plot more than character development, especially compared to the more grounded and textured adult roles. Performances from Kevin Durand (as the town’s mayor), Will Sasso (the sheriff), and Aaron Abrams (Quinn’s dad) bring a lived-in feel that the younger cast can’t quite match. Still, Katie Douglas injects enough heart and grit into Quinn to make her easy to root for.

Because the film feels like it’s aimed at a younger or more casual horror audience, I found myself wishing it pushed harder in terms of kills and commentary. Frendo doesn’t have the screen presence of Pennywise, Art the Clown, or even the gonzo weirdness of “Killer Klowns from Outer Space.” But that’s not really the point. “Clown in a Cornfield” isn’t trying to redefine horror, it’s trying to say something about how clinging to the past can curdle into something violent and unrecognizable. And on that front, it mostly succeeds.

Starring: Liam Neeson, Pamela Anderson and Danny Huston
Directed by: Akiva Schaffer
Running Time: 85 minutes
Rated: PG-13
Paramount Pictures

Our Score: 4 out of 5 Stars

The “Naked Gun” is back as a legacy sequel, reboot, and remake rolled into one. And it has some absurdly big clown shoes to fill. The original 1988 film helped define an entire era of spoof comedies, arguably doing more for the genre than even “Airplane!” It remains a cult favorite, beloved for its relentless gags, offbeat charm, and layers of absurdity that reward every rewatch. While the original’s director has publicly said he won’t see this new version, he probably should because it’s a worthy and laugh-filled new chapter in the police squad files.

Liam Neeson plays Frank Drebin Jr., son of the iconic original character, now leading a modern-day police squad. When a dead man turns up in a submerged vehicle and a high-tech gadget with world-ending potential is uncovered, Drebin springs into action. But let’s be honest: the plot is barely the point. Supporting him is Paul Walter Hauser as his loyal partner, and Danny Huston delivers a hilariously unflinching performance as the villain. The real surprise, though, is Pamela Anderson. As the film’s love interest, she plays her role completely straight despite the absurdity of the role.

What makes this revival shine is its commitment to the classic Naked Gun formula: Deadpan delivery, slapstick chaos, sight gags, layered wordplay, and absurd satire. It’s all here, and it all lands. The cast handles the material with just the right mix of sincerity and silliness. But the credit doesn’t stop there. Writers Dan Gregor and Doug Mand, alongside director Akiva Schaffer, deserve major praise for crafting a comedy that not only honors the ZAZ legacy but also stands tall on its own. This is their second winning collaboration following 2022’s unexpectedly delightful “Chip ‘n Dale: Rescue Rangers.”

Their script is razor-sharp, balancing clever and juvenile humor with an ease rarely seen in modern comedies. “The Naked Gun” isn’t just funny, it’s consistently funny, and possibly the most laugh-out-loud movie of the year. With gags layered in nearly every frame, it demands a second viewing just like the originals.

Starring: Madelyn Cline, Chase Sui Wonders and Jennifer Love Hewitt
Directed by: Jennifer Kaytin Robinson
Rated: R
Running Time: 111 minutes
Sony Pictures

Our Score: 3 out of 5 Stars

There’s not a deep well of nostalgia for “I Know What You Did Last Summer,” even though I fall squarely in its target demographic. While the 1997 film probably played at countless slumber parties, I was more interested in ‘80s slashers like “Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan” and “A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors.” That’s not to say I skipped the original and its 1998 sequel. I just never went deeper with the 2006 direct-to-video sequel or the short-lived Amazon series. That said, nostalgia is a powerful thing, and I may have enjoyed this 2025 reboot/sequel more than it probably deserves.

The formula remains unchanged: a group of teens does something terrible and tries to cover it up, only to be stalked by a killer in a fisherman’s raincoat. This time, the inciting incident involves a group of five young adults causing a car to veer off a cliff and into the ocean, thanks to one of them goofing around in the street while high. It’s a shaky start, not just because the setup feels contrived, but because it raises questions about whether they’d even be charged with murder under existing law. It might’ve been cleaner, and way more relevant, to have them hit someone while distracted by TikTok or shopping on Etsy.

The first 30 minutes are a slog, nearly nap-worthy, but things pick up once the hook-wielding fisherman shows up and makes a mess with a harpoon. From there, the film taps into its nostalgia engine. Freddie Prinze Jr. returns with a seaman’s beard, weathered charm, and the same heartthrob energy that made him famous. Jennifer Love Hewitt, now playing a psychology professor, also makes a welcomed return. With a dead serious face, she gives the teens predictably awful advice that works perfectly in this kind of film. At this point, I was fully on board this sinking ship, content to go down with it. Because while this isn’t a good movie, it is pretty damn fun.

That fun comes in spite of a script littered with pointless side characters, wandering subplots, and character decisions so illogical they’d make a puzzle book combust. The tone swings wildly from serious to silly, and the attempts at humor mostly fall flat. Even the film’s biggest “wink” moment lands with the laughter and joy of a tax audit. A tighter runtime might’ve helped, but instead the film drags longer than necessary, testing your patience between the kills.

Like the 1997 original, this 2025 edition still lives in the shadow of “Scream,” chasing that meta-slasher magic nearly 30 years later. And while it never matches “Scream’s” cleverness, there is a sense of fun that seeps through, especially during the kill sequences. The deaths are satisfyingly brutal, and the film actually does a better job crafting a believable killer than the original.

It’s not a genre-defining entry like “In a Violent Nature,” nor is it as viciously funny as “The Monkey,” but it comfortably lands in the middle of the 2025 horror pack. There are better horror films out this year, but there are far worse, too.

Starring: Scarlett Johannson, Mahersha Ali and Jonathan Bailey
Directed by: Gareth Edwards
Rated: PG-13
Running Time: 133 minutes
Universal Pictures

Our Score: 1 out of 5 Stars

We had a 14-year break between “Jurassic Park III” and “Jurassic World.” Time away from the constantly calamitous dinosaur park made us appreciate it again when the doors swung back open. I’m not saying we need another 14-year dry spell, but after watching “Jurassic World Rebirth,” I’m beginning to think the creative team and writers need one.

17 years after a candy bar wrapper (not making this up) left a trail of devastation and chaos at a secret island lab, Earth’s environment is now too hostile for most of the dinosaurs and prehistoric creatures once resurrected. In a hail mary pharma-fueled effort to save humanity, a shady biotech firm assembles a ragtag crew to return to the long-abandoned, off-limits island of Ile Saint-Hubert. Led by Scarlett Johannson (don’t remember the names, or else you’ll get attached when they become dino snacks) and extract genetic material from the world’s last prehistoric specimens.

I’m not saying the premise is dumb. It’s a dinosaur movie. The narrative and ideas it posits gets in the way of perfectly fine escapism. The opening sequence makes sure to hammer in two asinine facts: No one cares dinosaurs are escaping zoos and dying in downtown Manhattan and dinosaurs aren’t cool anymore. As someone who has worked in news, if any animal escapes from the zoo, even a capybara, it makes national news. And what the hell do you mean dinosaurs aren’t cool? They hammer the latter point more by recruiting a paleontologist, played by Jonathan Bailey, from a natural history museum that’s shuttering. He bemoans several times about how no one cares to see dinosaurs anymore. Have any of these writers visited a zoo lately?

The obnoxiousness doesn’t end there as characters spit out dialogue that sounds like it was written by ChatGPT after a few drinks. “A car bomb killed my dad. It came out of nowhere.” Car bombs don’t come out of nowhere. They’re planted. Also, for a film about dinosaurs wreaking havoc, we expect some fantastic kills, but they’re so quick and off-screen that they make death boring. Not even the T-Rex gets a kill. So, maybe give the people what they want next time, if you catch my drift.

Worst of all, it’s boring. The action sequences are flat and lifeless. Once it’s clear who lives (almost everyone) and who dies (mostly nobodies), the chase scenes lose all tension. At the very least, you gotta kill one secondary character that’s had more than two lines of dialogue. Then, there’s too much downtime with characters you’d rather see eaten, and even the callbacks to prior films feel forced and hollow. There’s no awe, no wonder, no…anything. Just another joyless cash grab from a franchise that forgot why people showed up in the first place.

I didn’t walk in expecting to hate it. Quite the opposite. The trailer gave me hope that it might tap into that silly joy of watching dumb humans try to outwit dumber, bigger, toothier animals. I was wrong. The audience at my screening seemed to enjoy it, but it was the end of June with nothing going. Also, maybe I’m just bitter. But if you’re picking “Jurassic World Rebirth” over fireworks this weekend, prepare to be disappointed.

Starring: Brad Pitt, Damson Idris and Kerry Condon
Directed by: Joseph Kosinski
Rated: PG-13
Running Time: 156 minutes
Warner Bros. Pictures

Our Score: 2.5 out of 5 Stars

One of the key reasons “Top Gun: Maverick” resonated with audiences was its use of practical effects. You could feel every jolt, every turn, every pulse-pounding second in the cockpit. “F1 The Movie” offers a similar thrill, dropping viewers into the high-stakes world of Formula 1 racing with visceral, immersive action sequences. If you’ve ever found racing dull on TV, F1 may be the antidote. Although you may still find watching racing at home dull once you leave the theater, but I digress. On the track, “F1” is a perfect symphony of tension and speed. Everything off the track is where things falter.

The comparisons to Maverick are hard to avoid as “F1” clearly follows the same blueprint: stunning set pieces surrounding a story about aging, redemption, growth, and legacy. Brad Pitt plays Sonny Hayes, a retired F1 driver forced out of the sport after a near-fatal crash. Years later, he’s pulled back into the game by former teammate Ruben Cervantes (Javier Bardem), who needs Sonny to help steer his struggling team, APXGP, through the season alongside rookie driver Joshua Pearce (Damson Idris).

But while Maverick benefited from emotional investment and nostalgia, “F1” has to stand on its own—and it doesn’t quite get there. Pitt is reliably cool and watchable, but his laid-back charm lacks the sharp emotional edge Tom Cruise brought to his return as “Maverick.” And despite strong performances across the board, the film struggles to make any of its characters, aside from three, feel essential. It’s overcrowded, with too many subplots and too few payoffs, drowning out the film’s emotional core.

The racing scenes are breathtaking—seriously some of the best you’ll see all year—but the pacing of the story sputters. At times, it feels like a condensed TV series, or a script that lost track of itself. Fortunately, Kerry Condon adds some much-needed depth as Pitt’s love interest and team engineer. She brings a steely, scientific sensibility that grounds the film, and her chemistry with Pitt works. Bardem also elevates every scene he’s in, but unfortunately, there aren’t enough of them. Too much time is spent on side characters who don’t need speaking roles; just background presence, and the film loses momentum every time it wanders away from its main players.

I walked into “F1” with little interest and found myself wanting it to be great. It has the makings of a classic summer blockbuster: high energy, big stakes, and enough sensory overload to make you forget the real world for a while. And in that sense, it succeeds. But when the engines quiet down and you’re left with the people behind the wheel, there just isn’t enough there to hold on to. “F1” may offer the thrill of the race, but it never fully wins you over.

Starring: Alfie Williams, Jodie Comer and Aaron Taylor-Johnson
Directed by: Danny Boyle
Rated: R
Running Time: 115 minutes
Sony Pictures

Our Score: 3.5 out of 5 Stars

It’s only fitting that “28 Years Later” arrives in the midst of global political chaos and years after a real-world pandemic (thankfully, not one involving zombies). “28 Days Later” was released in the shadow of 9/11. “28 Weeks Later” came during the era of American military overreach in a war-torn country. So naturally, the question for longtime fans becomes: how soul-crushing does it get nearly three decades into this franchise’s apocalyptic future?

Humanity—at least in the UK—still lives in fear of the Rage virus, which first escaped a chimp research facility 28 years ago. The survivors we follow now live in a fortified community on Holy Island, guarding a tidal causeway and venturing to the mainland only for essential resources. Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) is preparing his son, Spike (Alfie Williams), to become a scavenger.

Scavenging means using a bow and arrow, navigating the desolate mainland, and being capable of taking down a pack of infected in seconds. The Rage virus has evolved, and we see its grotesque aftermath throughout the film. But don’t worry—plenty of them can still sprint like Usain Bolt. While Jamie looks to instill a sense of community through violence in Spike, his son is preoccupied. Spike can’t take his mind off his ailing mother, Isla (Jodie Comer), as she writhes and moans in pain back at home.

“28 Years Later” doesn’t unfold as expected. It’s bold—not just for waiting 18 years to return to the franchise, but for rewriting elements of its core DNA. Thematically, it’s overloaded: pandemics, war, military hubris, societal collapse, parental rifts, rebirth, survivalism, even a coming-of-age arc.

This genre stew is dense; sometimes too dense. The film juxtaposes serene countryside vistas with thunderous jump scares and blood-splattered chaos. It’s like machine-gun fire in a conservatory: beautiful, jarring, relentless. And yet, somehow, it finds poetry in the mayhem. There’s an odd elegance to its grotesque vision, like discovering a basket of blood-covered puppies while fleeing through the woods. That said, audiences expecting a standard summer blockbuster (“Lilo & Stitch” or “F1”), might find it alienating. Even for someone like me, who thrives on this kind of film, I occasionally found myself questioning the more stylistic choices, especially a final teaser that feels like it’s mocking everything that came before it.

My rating may seem lower than expected, but that’s only because “28 Weeks Later” feels incomplete. The film’s legacy now hinges on how “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple” closes the franchise. A weak sequel can retroactively cheapen what came before, much like the “Matrix” sequels.

Still, while some fans may have hoped for a more expansive or catastrophic finale, “28 Years Later” goes big in a different way. Instead of going global, as “28 Weeks Later” teased, it scales down to something more intimate. The heart. It looks at devastation, death, and despair, and responds with something more meditative. Almost peaceful. Albeit with nude, flesh-hungry creatures roaming the British countryside like rabid wolves.

Starring: Benicio Del Toro, Mia Threapleton and Michael Cera
Directed by: Wes Anderson
Rated: PG-13
Running Time: 105 minutes
Focus Features

Our Score: 3.5 out of 5 Stars

Since “The Grand Budapest Hotel” in 2014, Wes Anderson fans have been chasing that perfectly symmetrical high—the kind of quirky, charming brilliance that only Anderson seems capable of. But we may have to admit: that was the peak. It’s been a decade, and while he’s delivered solid work since, nothing has quite reached the heights of “Budapest.” That said, “The Phoenician Scheme” is still a strong entry in his catalog. It hits all the Anderson notes, even if it doesn’t sing quite as sweetly.

Imagine if “The Royal Tenenbaums” had a baby with “Beirut,” and you’d get something close to The Phoenician Scheme. It plays like a living political cartoon—satirizing war-driven infrastructure plans, economic collapse, and family dysfunction with pastel flair. Zsa-Zsa Korda (Benicio Del Toro) is an aging industrialist trying to glue together the financing for his overreaching global project, while grooming his daughter, Sister Liesl (Mia Threapleton), to inherit the chaos. Along for the ride are assassination attempts, underworld syndicates, failed rail lines, a basketball game with geopolitical stakes, and Bjørn (Michael Cera), a bewildered, yet suspicious entomologist turned assistant.

For die-hard Anderson fans, this might sound like a dream. But it’s worth tempering expectations. While I enjoyed “The Phoenician Scheme” quite a bit, it never quite rises to the level of Anderson’s best. It flirts with emotional depth but can’t seem to commit. Zsa-Zsa feels more like a mustachioed “Three Stooges” character than the kind of tragic antihero Anderson has pulled off in the past.

As a pure comedy, though, the film is a delight. It’s a whirlwind of dry wit, elaborate sets, and eccentric characters firing on all cylinders. Just don’t expect the emotional gut punch of “Budapest” or “Tenenbaums.” “The Phoenician Scheme” is Anderson comfort food—odd, satisfying, and occasionally unforgettable. Maybe that’s enough.