Starring: Kevin Singh, Claire Theobald and Donovan Workun
Directed by: Simon Glassman
Rated: Unrated
Running Time: 99 minutes
Yellow Veil Pictures

Our Score: 3.5 out of 5 Stars

Having worked in local news, I’ve always appreciated the “can-do” spirit of local advertisers. Whether it’s pure DIY ingenuity by a tiny agency doing its best, or the awkward business owner subbing in for a slick national spot, there’s a charm to it. Enter “Buffet Infinity,” a VHS-style collage of local news, ads, and a story that feels easy to explain, yet strangely hard to fully convey.

As the film begins, we’re introduced to this unnamed town through a string of commercials. A pawn shop where the owners seem to enjoy filming more than selling, an insurance company with one of the dimmest spokespersons imaginable, a sandwich shop hyping its homemade sauce, and then there’s Buffet Infinity. At first glance, it’s just a buffet with a few items and low prices. Nothing suspicious…except for a monotone voiceover that feels more like bored improvisation than bored script reading.

But things begin to spiral as local news teasers and segments weave into the mix. It becomes clear that Buffet Infinity is more than a flashy new business. It’s an all-consuming presence that may be tied to strange disappearances, biblical shifts in nature, and possibly even a cult.

“Buffet Infinity” feels reminiscent of Panic Fest’s “VHYes,” but where that film leaned into a straightforward ghost story within the VHS chaos, this one uses sketch comedy to build something more layered. Absurdity reigns supreme as Buffet Infinity evolves from mundane burgers and salads to offering global cuisine and a sandwich that rivals the Tower of Babel. But underneath the jokes is a sharp critique of corporate expansion.

What makes the film work is how it forces you to piece together its story through seemingly trivial segments. Even the dull lawyer’s commercial plays a role. Slowly, the horror reveals itself: a force that enters a community, consumes it, overwhelms local competition, and then pretends it’s always belonged. Growing up, that force might have been Walmart. Today, it could be data centers, taxpayer-funded entertainment districts, or the endless spread of Amazon warehouses.

“Buffet Infinity” is an indie, anti-consumerist comedy that feels as old as Reaganomics but as current as Silicon Valley branding. It uses retro aesthetics for laughs while delivering a story about very real, very modern anxieties. Not every segment lands, and it can take a bit to find its rhythm, but its originality carries it. And when it hits, especially with the Buffet Infinity ads themselves, it’s an absolute riot.

Starring: Mercedes Mason, Rob Huebel and Barbara Crampton
Directed by: Ed Dougherty, Brea Grant and Chelsea Stardust
Rated: NR
Running Time: 104 minutes

Our Score: 4 out of 5 Stars

“Parasite,” “The Big Short,” “Sorry to Bother You,” “The Menu,” and “Glass Onion” all take aim at late-stage capitalism. Enter “Grind,” the first horror anthology built around the gig economy, one of the many aftershocks of that same system. As a former and current gig worker, I can say “Grind” is not only sharp in its critiques, but so inventive in its structure that it stands as one of the better original anthologies of this century.

Like some of the “V/H/S” entries and films such as “Scare Package,” there is clear connective tissue throughout. Every story links to the next or feeds the larger world, rather than settling for the lazy anthology formula of stitching together vaguely similar shorts. “Grind” creates a living, breathing universe for its stories to inhabit, allowing even the weaker entries to feel like added flavor rather than dead space.

Without walking through every segment beat by beat, “Grind” opens in an Amazon-style warehouse run by the sinister DRGN Corp. Workers whisper about an ominous punishment for anyone who falls behind schedule, setting up the film’s larger framing device. One employee lags while searching for a lamp for influencers, which segues into a story about social media influencing as the newest frontier of multi-level marketing, pyramid schemes, and general nonsense.

That eventually morphs into a DoorDash-style segment about a driver who simply cannot resist a rising payout. From there, the film shifts into one of its strongest chapters: a man desperate to break into DRGN’s corporate ranks, only to learn that a $175,000 salary means spending endless hours, days, and maybe years moderating grotesque social media content. It says a lot about what modern labor asks people to stomach. The movie then moves into a story about coffee shop workers unionizing under the DRGN umbrella before circling back to the warehouse and its mysterious punishment system.

At no point does “Grind” run out of steam. Each segment has its own spin on horror and comedy. Some lean darker, like the content moderation story, while others embrace absurdity, such as the delivery driver whose tip keeps rising as the requests become more deranged. Barbara Crampton shines in the MLM chapter, Rob Huebel is a blast as a DRGN liaison, and the supporting cast is stacked with memorable turns from Jessika Van, Vinny Thomas, and Christopher Marquette.

What makes “Grind” work is that it targets a labor system becoming deeply embedded in modern life. Instead of forcing horror onto these jobs, it uncovers the horror already inside them. With a game cast, sharp writing, and a rare talent for making an anthology feel cohesive, “Grind” has the potential to become a franchise in the spirit of “Creepshow.”

• MICHAEL  (2026)
• Starring:  Jafar Jackson, Nia Long and Colman Domingo
• Directed by:  Antoine Fuqua
• Rated:”  PG 13
• Running time:  2 hrs 15 mins
• Lionsgate/Universal

Our score:  2.5 out of 5

I don’t envy Jaafar Jackson.

His dad is Jermaine Jackson, and he looks and sounds uncannily like his uncle Michael. He can replicate the King of Pop’s dance moves, but the movie where he plays Wacko Jacko constantly feels like listening to an indifferent cover band playing his hits.

Screenwriter John Logan, who gave us Martin Scorsese’s The Aviator, struggles to tell viewers something they don’t already know about Michael Jackson. That’s almost impossible because so much of his Jackson’s was in front of cameras and microphones. As a result, Michael plays more like a PowerPoint presentation than an actual movie.

It’s not exactly a secret that his early success with the Jackson 5 denied him a childhood and friendships with others his age or that his father Joseph (Colman Domingo) was an abusive stage parent who could have given the Beach Boys’ Murray Wilson a run for his money.

Domingo is grossly overqualified to play such an overbearing heel, but the script never asks him to do anything else. Considering the nuanced performance he gave as civil rights pioneer Bayard Rustin, it’s shame to waste his skills on such a monotonously beligerernt role.

After all, you don’t have to work too hard to make a child beater unlikable.

Similarly, other essential figures in Jackson’s like merely appear. Nia Long doesn’t make much of an impression as his mother, other than providing the emotional support Joseph doesn’t. Motown patriarch Berry Gordy, who brought the Jacksons’ music to the world, and producer Quincy Jones who helped shape Jackson’s distinctive groove are reduced to walk ons.

Mike Myers plays CBS Records honcho Walter Yetnikoff the same way he played the record company flack in Bohemian Rhapsody, but he seems to be the one person enjoying himself in this enterprise. Yetnikoff was instrumental in ending MTV’s ridiculous exclusion of black artists, so this brief scene brings some welcome levity and purpose.

Director Antoine Fuquoa has made countless music videos but recreating the magic of Michael Jackon’s output is a lost cause. CBS Records spared no expense on what they shelled out for the clips that promoted “Thriller,” “Beat It” and other hits. His videos were events, so that MTV even announced when “Thriller” would be broadcast.

Director John Sayles who made music videos once lamented that many simply said that point of them was to show that if one became a rock star one could see lots of models in their underwear. Jackson’s videos were far slicker and more sophisticated. The budgets on the Bruce Springsteen videos Sayles shot were bigger than the ones for some of the movies he made.

Fuquoa doesn’t appear to have access to the excess that Micheal and Yetnikoff could summon so easily in the 1980s. The musical numbers here lack the energy and the gravity defying wonder of Jackson’s peak. If you wonder why people cared about this guy who spoke with such a high-pitched voice, go to YouTube and watch the videos for his hits. Seeing him dominate the camera while other performers were simply standing and strumming will be a treat.

Frankly, if you want to learn why his music, his stage act and his videos were so revolutionary, check out Spike Lee’s Bad 25, which expertly dissects the album and shows how he pieced it together through multiple overdubs and a careful ear for detail. Hearing characters in Michael casually discuss tunes that would be classics shortchanges them and the process it took to make them special.

At 2 hours and 15 minutes, Michael manages to feel both rushed and bloated. It’s light on the euphoria of his triumphs and misses the moments that made his human. There’s no discussion of his faith as a Jehovah’s Witness or the charges of child molestation. I can see wanting to celebrate the art not the terrible things he might have done, but much of the content of Michael is downright dull and about as imaginative as a conversation with ChatGPT.

Michael’s fight for control of his music has been copied and pasted from previous biopics (A Complete Unknown, etc) and lacks any real tension. Even if you’ve never heard a note of his music, you already know what’s going to happen.

In the end, no matter how valiantly Jaafar Jackson performs, the film that surrounds him feels more like a tomb than a tribute to his late uncle. There is little to justify leaving home for replicas of videos that will look better on your TV.

On a scale of zero to five, “Michael” receives ★★ ½

• MICHAEL  (2026)
• Starring:  Jafar Jackson, Nia Long and Colman Domingo
• Directed by:  Antoine Fuqua
• Rated:”  PG 13
• Running time:  2 hrs 15 mins
• Lionsgate/Universal

Our score:  4 out of 5

September 21, 1984.  RFK Stadium, Washington D.C.  That night my then girlfriend, myself and 89,998 other people waited anxiously.  The show, referred to as “The Victory Tour,” featured the Jackson brothers from Gary, Indiana.  But the one person everyone was there to see was the man who had taken the music world by storm.  His name was Michael.

A well-crafted, but sanitized look at the King of Pop, “Michael” tells the familiar tale of a young man touched by talent and the people that would take advantage of it.  Even if you’re just a casual fan, you know a lot of what the film tells you.  Father Joe Jackson, played by Colman Domingo in an award worthy performance, is a bastard.  Tough and seemingly uncaring, Joe groomed his boys to become the musical stars they became, discipling them with a whipping when they did not please him.  Mother Katherine was a saint…the voice of reason and compassion in the family.  And then you have sister LaToya and the brothers:  Jermaine, Tito, Marlon and Jackie.  Unexplainedly missing:  daughters Janet and Rebe and little brother Randy.  And then there’s Michael!

The nephew of the late star (he’s the son of Jermaine), Jafar Jackson becomes Michael Jackson before our eyes.  He not only has the look but the voice and the moves as well.  An amazing breakout performance.  The supporting cast is also strong, including Miles Tenner as Michael’s promoter, Larenz Tate as Motown founder Berry Gordy and Mike Meyers, who has found a second career playing pushy record company executives.  Special shout-out as well to young Juliano Valdi, who plays Michael as a child.

The film was produced in association with Jackson’s brothers and children, so it’s more like a musical love letter then an in-dept look at his life.  We get the familiar:  Michael never really being able to be a child, his love for animals and their friendship and, of course, his music.  Several major parts of his life are recreated, including the shooting of the “Beat It” and “Thriller” videos as well as the 25^th Anniversary Motown Special.  And here is where the movie excels.  If you’re a fan of the music, you will not be disappointed here.

On a scale of zero to five, “Michael” receives ★★★★

Starring: Brendan Kelly and Kaitlyn Boye
Directed by: Brendan Kelly and Kaitlyn Boye
Rated: NR
Running Time: 89 minutes

Our Score: 4 out of 5 Stars

Meta narratives are fertile ground in horror, from “Scream” to “Cabin in the Woods” to “One Cut of the Dead.” While “Break a Leg” is in strong company, it does something I haven’t really seen since “Birdman.” Its meta commentary is focused less on genre itself and more on acting, ambition, and the people chasing both.

Aspiring actor Patrick (Brendan Kelly) is thrilled to land an audition for a play directed by a legendary and infamous stage auteur. But when he arrives, the director is nowhere to be found. Instead, he’s greeted by Molly (Kaitlyn Boye), a disgraced former child star who is also auditioning for the same role. Their early awkward friendliness soon turns into distrust when they realize the director may not be coming at all. Even worse, they appear to be trapped inside the theater.

The film rests almost entirely on its two leads, which works because Kelly and Boye also wrote and directed the movie. Wearing multiple hats clearly benefits the project, allowing them to fully explore their ideas about performance, ego, insecurity, and the strange emotional warfare that can come with creative ambition. They dissect the craft through their characters’ clashing perspectives, while the structure of the story, the gradual revelations about the unseen director, and the escalating chaos all feel like a polished statement about their relationship with acting itself.

There are several scenes that feel drawn from real-world experience, whether it’s one character delivering a monologue, the two verbally sparring at high speed, or one pushing the other’s creative and mental limits. By placing all of this inside a horror framework, the film gets to play with reality in clever ways. Are they actually trapped in a theater? Is the director really there? Is some unseen force manipulating them? Is anyone ever truly in control? That final question becomes the film’s sharpest trick, especially as the last act pushes you to reflect on your own life, whether you’re an artist or not.

“Break a Leg” could have used a bit of trimming, but it makes strong use of its simple setting and premise, crafting a bloody, eerie, and imaginative bottle thriller. Kelly and Boye are not only the selling point, they’re the glue holding everything together. Their chemistry is immediate and infectious. You won’t mind being trapped in the room with them, though you may not like the skeletons they uncover.

Starring: Michael Johnston, Inde Havarette and Cooper Tomlinson
Directed by: Curry Barker
Rated: R
Running Time: 108 minutes
Focus Features

Our Score. 4.5 out of 5 Stars

Butterflies. It’s that feeling you get when you’re smitten. Maybe you find purpose, meaning, and reason. Maybe you find your partner in crime. Maybe you find your little food critic. Or maybe you find yourself trapped in a psycho-excessive, sleep paralysis nightmare of a toxic relationship that feels more like a 21st-century cautionary tale than hyper-realistic reality.

Well, that’s “Obsession,” a film that’s been stuck in my head like a fresh…well…obsession. Bear (Michael Johnston) is doing a pathetic man’s version of Nathan Fielder’s “The Rehearsal.” He’s practicing pickup lines with a waitress who is clearly hoping the tips outweigh the effort. Bear’s goal is winning over Nikki (Inde Havarrette), whom he believes is his soulmate, even though they’ve only bonded as co-workers and at half-hearted trivia nights with two other co-workers. He apparently thinks he’s collected enough platonic points to cash in for a real relationship.

He’s rehearsing because Nikki decides she needs a change, which means a new job that puts her platonically out of Bear’s range. So he tries to flirt…and it fails spectacularly. Like starting a diet on edibles at Golden Corral. But Bear happens to possess a magic willow wish that is every bit as hokey as it sounds. He picked it up while buying Nikki a small gift at a hippie shop. In a moment of desperation, he snaps it in half and wishes that she loves him more than anything else in the universe. Bear may not realize how big the universe is, or how horrific Nikki’s devotion is about to become.

“Obsession” isn’t breaking much new ground. At its core, it’s an old-fashioned monkey paw story built around the warning to be careful what you wish for. What elevates it are Johnston and Havarrette. Johnston is as pathetic as Bear sounds, writhing in every inch of uncomfortable sweat his character creates. Havarrette, meanwhile, makes Nikki almost supernaturally haunting. She lingers in dark corners watching Bear sleep, her silhouette slithering through rooms like something both wounded and predatory. She is absolutely iconic. As the film builds toward its climax, it keeps teasing that it’s about to go for the jugular, and eventually it does.

The other thing “Obsession” nails is how toxic relationships begin subtly before spinning into emotional violence. Through evolving set pieces, Nikki becomes more manipulative and controlling, while Bear refuses to take responsibility for the chaos he created, choosing emotional regression over growth. The film balances comedy and tension flawlessly, capturing the manic swings of a relationship on fire. One moment Bear seems willing to endure Nikki forever. The next, Nikki seems willing to stay with Bear only if he’s dead and festering.

There’s a reason Curry Barker is already being linked to a remake of “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” and it’s “Obsession.” This film is wild, vicious, and gripping. It puts you in the front row for the yin and yang of abuse and power. Heavy subject matter aside, it’s a roller coaster of emotions that absolutely kills with a midnight crowd.

Starring: Midori Francis, Madeleine Madden and Danielle Macdonald
Directed by: Natalie Erika James
Rated: R
Running Time: 112 minutes
IFC Films

Our Score: 3 out of 5 Stars

Medical student Hana (Midori Francis) is determined to get to 60 kilograms, or 132 pounds for us Americans. She basically starves herself, pushes through a grueling multi-week fitness program, and generally seems miserable on her weight-loss journey. We’re not quite sure what is driving her to these extremes when she runs into an old high school acquaintance. That former classmate used to be morbidly obese, but is now almost unrecognizable to Hana. Her former classmate’s secret? She basically claims it’s a magic pill.

And just like Jack and the Beanstalk, it works. Hana, now deeply curious, analyzes the pill and discovers it contains phosphates, chemicals … and human ashes. She knows what everything else is and its impact, but it’s the human ashes that have her questioning, not only if it’s the key ingredient, the consequences. But she also really, really wants to lose weight. If human ashes are the key, surely Hana won’t mind continuing this new weight-loss regimen as a med student. Especially when a whale-sized cadaver arrives and no one notices a few ribs missing.

As a mix of “The Substance” and “Thinner,” “Saccharine” swings from comical body horror to unnerving possession tropes. There’s a lot going on here, and the film never quite finds a delicate balance between its many ideas. As mentioned earlier, we never fully understand what drives Hana to such horrific extremes. Is it love? Social media? Parenting? Bullying? Societal pressure? It’s all piled onto the movie’s plate, but it never takes the time to savor the bites. That being said, Francis does a fantastic job of savoring every scene she’s in.

Francis fully commits to Hana’s shocking transformation alongside the increasingly spiritual and supernatural developments bubbling beneath the surface. The obese corpse haunts her from afar even; its presence ranges from uncomfortable chuckles to genuine winces. The overweight specter hangs over nearly every scene, though I wish I had a stronger grasp of the Eastern influences at play. There are clear Buddhist and other religious images throughout, but they often feel buried beneath the film’s many competing ideas.

In the age of GLP-1s, and with my own struggles with weight over the years, “Saccharine” feels timely even when it’s a bit of a mess. For a film inherently about excess, it could use some trimming. Still, Francis helps smooth over many of the rough spots, and when Hana is alone in her apartment after dark, the movie usually delivers a freaky good time.

• PROJECT HAIL MARY
• Starring:  Ryan Gosling, Sandra Huller and James Ortiz
• Directed by:  Phil Lord and Christopher Miller
• Rated:  PG 13
• Running time:  2 hrs 36 mins
• Amazon Studios/MGM

Our score:  5 out of 5

There’s a great line in “The Hunt for Red October” where Jack Ryan, after having given a briefing to the powers that be, mumbles to himself “next time Jack, write a G.D. memo.”  I’m guessing high school teacher Ryland Grace (Gosling) never saw that film.

Beautifully shot, with a true stand-alone performance from Gosling, “Project Hail Mary” tells the story of the possible threat to Earth from an unknown subject and the mission to prevent it from happening.  Grace is a one-time, and disgraced, former NASA employee, whose name is well known in the scientific world, just not for anything good.  Now teaching high school science, Grace is approached by a former colleague to discuss the current situation and ask for his assistance.  Grace looks forward to the day when everyone involved is trained and he can just walk away.  But, as often happens, fate steps in and soon Grace finds himself with a new, but unusual, friend.

Leave it to the team behind the amazing “The Lego Movie” to create a film as exciting as “Star Wars” and as beautiful as “2001.”  The film is buoyed by an award-worthy performance from Gosling who, with the exception of some flashback scenes, pretty much carries the film.  I was going to say “carries the film alone,” but Dr. Grace makes a friend with the oddly shaped alien he names “Rocky.”  As voiced by Mr. Ortiz, Rocky is a friendly type who has been trying to get back to his family for years.  Creating a device to let both understand each other, Grace and Rocky seem resigned to their fate as they both work to solve their mutual problems.

Visually the film is stunning, with the filmmakers using the opportunity to show places in the galaxy never before portrayed on screen and using their imagination to make them extraordinarily wonderful.  The script, by Oscar nominee Drew Goddard (“The Martian””) and the book’s author, Andy Weir, is both dramatic and funny, with nary a false note on either side.  The musical score, by Best Song Oscar nominee Daniel Pemberton, is the perfect accompaniment for the on-screen adventure.

I know the year is young but I’m sure by year’s end “Project Hail Mary” will still be considered one of the year’s best.

On a scale of zero to five, “Project Hail Mary” receives ★★★★★ 

Starring: Ryan Gosling, Sandra Huller and James Ortiz
Directed by: Phil Lord and Chris Miller
Rated: PG-13
Running Time: 156 minutes
Amazon MGM

Our Score: 4 out of 5 Stars

Sometimes you need a pick-me-up. My 2026 has begun with several funerals and a smattering of other bad news. I won’t bog you down with the details, but as I walked into “Project Hail Mary,” I expected something entertaining from Phil Lord and Chris Miller. What I didn’t expect was a film that would not only let me forget my personal hurdles, as well as the chaotic world outside the theater, but also give me something I haven’t felt in a while: genuine hope.

“Project Hail Mary,” based on the novel by Andy Weir (who also wrote “The Martian), follows science teacher turned humanity’s last hope Ryland Grace (Ryan Gosling). When we first meet Ryland, he wakes up aboard a spaceship called the Hail Mary with no memory of how he got there or why he’s millions of lightyears from Earth. Worse yet, his crew hasn’t survived the journey, leaving him alone to slowly piece together both his mission and whether he’s even capable of completing it. Through flashbacks we learn the stakes: a mysterious microbe is consuming stars across the galaxy and our sun is next on the menu.

Dystopia and science fiction usually go together like spaghetti and meatballs or Tommy Wiseau and cinematic disaster. That’s what makes “Project Hail Mary” feel refreshing. Even when it leans into familiar tropes, including the introduction of an alien that channels shades of Spielberg and “WALL-E,” or an AI system that’s sometimes more annoying than helpful, the film focuses on themes that feel surprisingly sincere.

At its core, the story explores chosen family and unlikely connection. On Earth, Ryland is portrayed as an introverted loner. In space, he becomes the only human for tens of millions of miles. When he encounters an alien trying to solve the same cosmic mystery, the film pivots toward something warmer: a partnership built on curiosity, communication and survival. Their friendship becomes the emotional engine of the story and a reminder (one that feels especially relevant right now) that collaboration with those we don’t understand often beats going it alone.

Those ideas fit neatly into the wheelhouse of Lord and Miller, whose past projects like “The LEGO Movie,” “21 Jump Street” and “Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs” balance comedy with surprising emotional depth. Here they bring that same lightness to what is technically an end-of-the-world scenario. The humor eases the tension while quietly setting up the emotional stakes that pay off in a third act full of action, twists and genuine heart.

“Project Hail Mary” has the scale of a big, bombastic sci-fi film, but its true strength is how intimate it feels. Like Ryland, we’re awed by the vastness of space, but the real spectacle isn’t the universe. It’s watching an unlikely hero overcome isolation, fear and self-doubt through curiosity and connection.

In the end, “Project Hail Mary” offers more than visual wonder. It delivers a surprisingly personal science-fiction story about cooperation, empathy and resilience. Ryland Grace may be flawed, but his curiosity and willingness to reach out lead to peaceful cosmic dialogue, a deeper understanding of existence and (as these things tend to go in movies like this) saving the world.

• CRIME 101
• Starring:  Chris Hemsworth, Mark Ruffalo and Halle Berry        
• Directed by:  Bart Layton
• Rated:  R
• Running time:  2 hrs 20 mins
• Amazon Studios/MGM

Our score:  4 out of 5

First off, even though this film features Thor, the Hulk and Storm, “Crime 101” is not the latest entry into the MCU world.  What it is is a tightly made, action packed crime thriller bolstered by fine performances and great action scenes.

Davis (Hemsworth) is living the good life.  A beautiful house on the beach, wonderful cars and, when he needs money, the ability to pull of high stakes robberies with very little trouble.  His trademark: no violence.  However, when his benefactor gives what should have been his last job to the wrong person, Davis must use all of his skills to not only save himself but others close to him.

The story starts out with three main chapters that eventually come together.  There’s Hemsworth’s Davis, calm and, as the late Stuart Scott would say, “cooler then the other side of the pillow.”  Balance him against a rumpled Mark Ruffalo, who plays a police detective that has been on the hunt for Hemsworth for years, failing to convince his superiors that he is the one person responsible for the string of burglaries  that have plagued the area.  With his hair askew and choice of clothing, Ruffalo reminds one of the popular Lieutenant Columbo from the 1970s, played to perfection by Peter Falk.  Berry is an insurance broker, worried about her career path and the possibility of being replaced by a younger version of herself.  Once everyone’s paths cross, the action begins to ramp up to a fever pace.

Credit the films’ director and co-writer, Mr. Layton, for keeping the film moving and finding inventive ways to make what could have been a standard Hollywood car chase a true rollercoaster ride for the audience.  Lots of practical effects here and they are greatly appreciated when achieved.  Action fans will not be disappointed.

On a scale of zero to five, “Crime 101” receives ★★★★

Starring: Sam Rockwell, Haley Lu Richardson and Michael Pena
Directed by: Gore Verbinski
Rated: R
Running Time: 133 minutes
Briarcliff Entertainment

Our Score: 3.5 out of 5 Stars

Imagine you’re sitting in a diner when a crazed man (unwashed for years but recently trimmed beard), wrapped in plastic with tubes dangling from his pants, storms in screaming, “I am from the future.” Thumb over a glowing button, ready to obliterate himself and everyone else, he announces that AI is about to rat-fuck the world and he needs a handful of strangers to help fix the future. You wouldn’t go. Right? “Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die” asks what happens when half a dozen people in that LA diner go, “Sure.”

Since it’s Gore Verbinski directing and Sam Rockwell playing the lunatic, of course the man is from the future. What starts as a bleakly funny “Black Mirror” sketch slowly expands into a string of “Black Mirror” episodes, both past and present, explaining why these people join him and just how unhinged their mission becomes. The absurdist comedy is strong, and while the film is technically anti-AI, it’s not in the usual “technology run amok” way. Instead, it holds up a mirror to the ways we’ve voluntarily outsourced societal functions to technology because dealing with real issues would require effort, empathy, and other things we’ve collectively misplaced.

Without spoiling the future-gone-sideways gags, Verbinski’s thesis is blunt: for every problem, there’s a technological solution. But instead of ocean-cleaning robots or cancer-curing models, the solution here is to further normalize school shootings. It comes complete with tiered pricing and the ad-supported version for those who can’t afford dignity. It’s bleak, but it’s also very funny in that “we deserve this future” way.

Rockwell’s manic energy works in short bursts, so Juno Temple, Michael Peña, Haley Lu Richardson and others carry the emotional stakes as the volunteers on this bizarro adventure that may (or may not) involve killing a child who may (or may not) be one keyboard stroke removed from becoming an “Akira” creature. Describing it without sounding like a monster is hard; the dystopia is constantly undercut by zany dry wit.

A film like this keeps escalating, so sticking the landing matters. The finale half-sticks it as both a bit of a cop-out and an earned payoff. Social satire + time travel rarely behaves in the third act, but even when it wobbles, the ride is worth it. It’s the rare AI comedy that feels original in both messaging and execution, and while the flaws are visible, the ideas linger. I suspect a second viewing will reveal more.

“Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die” is profound and silly at the same time. It’s an AI film arriving before a wave of bad “AI-gone-wrong” movies (looking at you “Mercy”) floods theaters. It’s unique, funny, and uncomfortably close to the world we’re already building, if not already living and breathing in.

Starring the Voices of: Roma Fay, Juliano Krue Valdi and Natalie Portman/Mark Ruffalo
Directed by: Ugo Bienvenu
Rated: PG
Running Time: 89 minutes
Neon

Our Score: 4 out of 5 Stars

There are a few things that make me suspicious of people: hating animals ranks high, and as a critic, hating kid-driven adventure stories is a red flag. It’s OK not to like some, but to not like all of them? Serial killer stuff. That’s because there’s an innate wanderlust baked into films like “The Goonies,” “E.T.” and “How to Train Your Dragon.” “Arco” doesn’t just stir that longing to explore the world, it reminds us of the world we’re actually living in.

Arco (Juliano Krue Valdi) is a 10-year-old boy living in 2932, an era where nature appears to have harmoniously reclaimed humanity in the clouds. It’s basically the Garden of Eden via sustainable urban planning. Instead of exploring the lush environment, Arco impatiently waits for his family to return from their time-travel expeditions. In this universe, people travel through time for holistic purposes. Arco’s father brings back plants from the dinosaur era to cultivate, not sports almanacs to gamble with. And nobody needs a DeLorean; they suit up and ride rainbows, as if a first-grade class designed time travel after parachute play. Arco steals his sister’s suit and rides the rainbow anyway.

In 2075, Iris (Romy Fay) lives in a household run entirely by a nanny-bot. Her parents are too busy to cook, clean, or tuck her in. When Iris discovers Arco unconscious in the woods, she drags him home and learns he’s from the future. They both learn…he might be stuck here. It’s the kind of child-like adventure you’d sketch on a notebook margin during a boring school day.

“Arco” gives us two dystopias. 2075 feels painfully plausible: suburban bubbles shield families from climate disasters, while robots and AI substitute for human connection. 2932 is gorgeous, but humanity lives on pillars above a flooded Earth. Adults in the audience will see the ecological alarm bells; the kids just see the magic. Yet both Arco and Iris seem to intuit the peril their worlds are in. Children often understand environmental stakes faster than adults. It echoes “C’mon C’mon,” where kids articulate climate fears more blatantly than the grown-ups interviewing them.

And still, “Arco” refuses to be bleak. It’s silly, adventurous, and sweet, with detours involving conspiracy-minded weirdos who know Arco is from the future and absolutely do not want to help him get back. All of it builds toward a third act that ups the peril, lands the themes, and might put a lump in your throat. Visually, the hand-drawn animation blends 1970s American aesthetics with Miyazaki. The artistry reinforces the film’s core belief that love, family, compassion, and simply talking to one another could fix more than we assume. It may even repair the damage we’ve already done.

• MERCY
• Starring:  Chris Pratt and Rebecca Ferguson
• Directed by:  Timur Bekmambetov
• Rated:  PG 13
• Running time:  1 hr 39 mins
• MGM/Amazon Studios 

Our Score:  4 out of 5

A.I.  Artificial Intelligence.  It’s everywhere these days.  You can’t throw a rock and not hit something that has been affected by the increasingly popular technology.  Take the city of Los Angeles.  Crime has gotten so bad that the criminals are now made to occupy designated “red zones.”  The court system is so overwhelmed that the most heinous crimes are now judged by the Mercy Court in a trial that not only presumes the defendant is guilty but gives them just 90 minutes to plea their case. If found guilty, execution is instantaneous.  Detective Chris Raven is a supporter of the process.  In fact, he was the cop that made the arrest resulting in the very first trial (and execution).  But when he finds himself on trial for his wife’s murder, Detective Raven begins to wonder if maybe he should rethink his opinion.

Full of twists, turns and some amazing set pieces, “Mercy” is a film that makes the viewer constantly second guess themselves.  Is Raven guilty?  If he isn’t, who is?  And, more importantly, in a world where EVERYTHING is captured on film, how did they do it?

My Chris Pratt viewing history consists of mostly television’s “Parks and Recreation,” “Moneyball” and the MCU.  He’s always been solid but he’s never really carried a film.  Here he proves himself a very capable dramatic actor, his work going up and down the spectrum from dry humor to true despair.  As the “Judge” – an A.I. image who professes that her verdict will strictly be rendered on facts presented – Ms. Fergusson also excels.  She is emotionless and to the point, dismissing any suggestion from Chris that is not based on facts.

Visually, the film manages to show two sides of L.A.; one sleek and modernistic, the other cloaked in dismay and chaos.  The action scenes are well paced with a scene featuring a semi-truck rampaging through the steets a highlight.

To sum it up, “Mercy” is a wild ride at the movies!

On a scale of zero to five, “Mercy” receives ★★★★   

Starring: Lee Byung-hun, Son Ye-jin and Park Hee-son
Directed by: Park Chan-wook
Rated: R
Running Time: 139 minutes
Neon

Our Score: 4 out of 5 Stars

Yoo Man-su (Lee Byung-hun) is living the good life, or at least the upper-middle-class representation of it. He has a roof over his head, his childhood home no less, a homemaker wife (Son Ye-jin), and two kids who have the freedom to explore their hobbies. His steady job at a paper company keeps everything humming. That’s why it stings when Man-su informs his family that the company has been bought out by Americans and he’s officially on the chopping block. But he’s determined. Determined to get another paper job. Determined to provide. Determined because, in his head, he’s the best at papermaking, almost like a South Korean Dwight Schrute.

A year later, that determination dissolves into humiliation. The family is pinching pennies. Hobbies are no longer affordable. And during an interview, Man-su is told bluntly and cruelly that he’s too old and too inferior to get back into the game. It’s here that Man-su decides to change tactics. The adaptation he chooses, however, involves murder.

What’s compelling is who Man-su decides needs to die for him to return to his former life. His choices reflect a broader working-class crisis: instead of blaming the systemic forces that push us down, we’re encouraged to blame each other, an eerie representation of our current climate where we second guess and distrust our neighbor, immigrant, or that slightly more valued coworker. “No Other Choice” is full of these digs at capitalism, and they land harder because they’re not delivered as sermons, but as survival logic.

Tonally, the film balances the bleakness with a surprising layer of absurd comedy. There’s a Looney Tunes quality to the murder attempts and the prior plotting. It’s inept, overcomplicated, and occasionally slapstick in a way that even Wile E. Coyote would diagnose as poor engineering. The misunderstandings and bursts of rage sometimes flirt with soap opera parody, but Park Chan-wook never lets the humor overwhelm the dread. It’s just enough to keep us breathing while Man-su makes things increasingly worse for himself.

Man-su lives by capitalism’s favorite rule: survival of the fittest. But in his mind, being “fit” means returning to the comfort he once reached. He craves the house, the status, the security, and the feeling that life finally makes sense. It’s not greed, exactly. He’s not looking to kill his way up the corporate ladder to become CEO. It’s the horror of losing something you were told you deserved, whether through indirect pressure, upbringing, societal standards, etc.

On the surface, “No Other Choice” feels predictable: the arc is clear, the anti-capitalist critique is worn openly, and the runtime lets you marinate in it a touch too long. But that roughness becomes sharper because of the comedy. Without the absurdity, the film’s obviousness would dull its knives. With it, the absurdity becomes the point. We’re looking in the mirror and wondering why we’ve allowed ourselves to reach this point.

Comparisons to “Parasite” are inevitable for American audiences, and while “No Other Choice” doesn’t reach those same highs, it distinguishes itself in what it finds tragic. “Parasite” is about clawing and scrounging upwards into the comfort zone, even if it’s fleeting and brief. “No Other Choice” is about what happens when you live and adapt to that comfort zone, only for a single economic decision to kick you back out. Where “Parasite” wastes no seconds, “No Other Choice” occasionally feels like it needs the runtime of a comedy. “No Other Choice” might have weasled its way into my favorite films of the year if it was shorter, punchier, meaner.

Even so, the film lingers. It’s funny, but it’s the kind of funny that gives the working-class viewer a pit in their stomach. It’s a pit that whispers, in a very real way, that absurd solutions begin with realistic scenarios. And that’s a feeling Americans, and apparently South Koreans, know all too well right now.

Starring: Ralph Fiennes, Jack O’Connell and Ralfie Williams
Directed by: Nia DaCosta
Rated: R
Running Time: 109 minutes
Sony Pictures Releasing

Our Score: 4 out of 5 Stars

In my review of “28 Years Later,” I noted that the film needed “Bone Temple” to really understand what Alex Garland was aiming for. I still don’t fully know, but this film offers a lot more to chew on. Picking up right where the prior film ended, we learn that the soccer-hooligan-looking “Warriors” gang is actually a Satanist cult (I wasn’t expecting that either). Led by Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal (Jack O’Connell), they force Spike (Alfie Williams), the lead of the prior film, into a ritual built around the simple principle of kill or be killed. Meanwhile, Dr. Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes), creator of the titular bone temple, begins to bond with the infected Alpha from the previous film, whom he names Samson (Chi Lewis-Parry). Again, I wasn’t expecting that either. These two threads converge in what I can only describe, without spoilers, as the greatest use of an Iron Maiden song on film.

What fascinates me about these new “28 Years Later” entries is the way Garland keeps trying to deconstruct the zombie genre the same way “28 Days Later” detonated it two decades ago. This time, Nia DaCosta is the one corralling his ideas, and the tonal shift is noticeable. The editing isn’t a gore-splattered machine gun over London backwoods; DaCosta brings more humanity without imitating Danny Boyle, making the film more watchable without defanging it.

What’s most surprising is that “Bone Temple” behaves like a counter-middle chapter. Yes, it’s technically the fourth film, but “28 Years Later” is being shaped as a trilogy. And instead of going darker, “Bone Temple” goes more hopeful. Spike’s path pulls him deeper into Jimmy Crystal’s orbit, where apocalypse becomes an opportunity for domination. On the other end, Dr. Kelson humanizes the infected, believing empathy might be the only way out of hell. Fiennes has a blast playing a loner who decides to befriend the most lethal cannibal alive. Together, these arcs reduce the apocalypse to two pathways: brutal control or stubborn compassion.

If that sounds simplistic, it’s deliberately so. Garland has always flirted with the big themes, militarism, pandemics, survivalism, etc., but here the real axis is science vs. religion. Kelson embodies the scientific impulse, acknowledging science’s role in creating the nightmare while believing it is also the way out. Crystal embodies faith. He believes faith is why the world has crumbled like tissue paper and he has adorned himself as a messiah figure to lead the way. Even at the end of the world, the two remain in conflict, and religion happily weaponizes science when it serves its power.

All of this leaves a single question: where do we go in the final film? After “28 Weeks Later” jammed conflicting themes and styles together, “Bone Temple” gives the series a breather. It’s still bloody and bizarre, but it’s also personal and weirdly optimistic. For the first time in the franchise, perception becomes the enemy. That makes Garland’s landing in the final film that much harder.