Even as someone who grew up with He-Man and the Masters of the Universe, I am not going to pretend that I am heavily steeped in the lore of the property or hold it as some sacred text to staunchly defend at every turn. Obviously I came out of the Dolph Lundgren live-action adaptation decades ago wondering why they had changed so much from the cartoon, but you know what . . . I still enjoyed that movie. I still enjoy it now! And while I skipped the cartoon revival of the early aughts, I absolutely loved what Netflix and Kevin Smith did with the property picking up where the original cartoon left off.

All this is to say that I went into this new adaptation of Masters of the Universe with cautious optimism. With director Travis Knight at the helm, I was willing to give this update the benefit of the doubt. Even more impressive was the physical transformation of star Nicholas Galitzine, as the often slender-framed actor appeared to have packed on the necessary muscle to play the main character. In a story that finds Eternia’s Prince Adam sent to Earth as a child to protect the sword of power from the evil Skeletor, he’s grown up living a difficult yet unspectacular life having been separated from the sword upon his arrival. After discovering its location on Earth, he’s reunited with his childhood friend Teela and taken back to a ravaged Eternia to face off against Skeletor and his horde of villains, and fulfill his destiny to become He-Man.

Even without the benefit of being someone who spent his fair share of days mashing together action figures from the cartoon as a child, there’s definitely more to Masters of the Universe that works than doesn’t for the uninitiated. So much of it is playing in the broader realm of 80s sci-fi fantasy and leaning into those campier aspects with reckless abandon. It understands the influences that gave us the original He-Man toys and cartoons in the first place, and manages to elevate them for this new era of cinema while also poking fun at them from time to time. As a film, Masters of the Universe owes a considerable amount to Flash Gordon, and especially that film’s soundtrack, as composer Daniel Pemberton is assisted by none other than Queen guitarist Brian May for an 80s-inspired power rock score that perfectly compliments the overall tone that Travis Knight is aiming for.

It still draws from the source material in terms of its vibrant and colorful visual aesthetic, aided by stellar production design and the use of both practical and visual effects, all this combined with some genuinely strong action set pieces. Fight scenes in particular are as dynamic as they are brutal, but never so gratuitous in the violence as to exclude younger audiences. As with Bumblebee, Travis Knight manages to balance nostalgia and love of the source material with winking acknowledgements throughout the film of its inherent absurdity. One thing I especially loved was the storytelling mechanic used to give a handful of characters their signature names, recognizing how silly it would be for characters like Ram-Man, Fisto, or Trapjaw to have those be their actual names within the context of this particular story.

Nicholas Galitzine has clearly put in the work to be that physical representation of He-Man fans are familiar with, but there is so much more he has to do as Adam that proves most vital to the overall film. Adam is a character who confidently expects people he encounters on Earth to believe him when he tells them about Eternia, and despite how often this is played for laughs, Galitzine’s performance also captures how isolating and lonely it’s been for Adam. Upon returning home, there is a genuine exploration of what it means for him to be the champion of Eternia, and there is an innocence and vulnerability to the performance that ultimately gives rise to confidence that only comes in truly understanding what it means to be a hero. The performance can feel a bit too broadly comedic in certain scenes, but Galitzine knows when to reign things in when the material calls for him to be more serious.

The supporting cast of this film is also exceptional. Camila Mendes as Teela is a perfect counterbalance to Galitzine as Adam/He-Man, as a confident freedom fighter that’s stern yet compassionate. Idris Elba is as reliable as ever as Man-At-Arms, clearly having the time of his life playing a royal command officer with a surprisingly deep character arc, feeling that he had failed to protect Adam’s parents from Skeletor and his forces. You believe him as a veteran hardened on the battlefield but weighed down by regret and failure, before he realizes he has a chance to redeem himself. We’re also reminded that the man has a knack for comedy being at the center of a handful of witty verbal gags and hilarious pratfalls. Morena Baccarin doesn’t have as much screen time as the others, but she is used effectively as the Sorceress, guiding Adam on his journey throughout the film. We even get a delightfully snarky voice performance from Kristen Wiig as Roboto, a decommissioned battle droid who reluctantly joins the fight to reclaim Eternia.

Of course a hero is only as good as the villain they’re pitted against, and if there is any standout in Masters of the Universe, it admittedly is Jared Leto as Skeletor. Many doubted the casting but this may very well be one of his best performances ever. This is exactly the kind of scenery chewing you want to see and Jared Leto left no crumbs to speak of. The “evil for the sake of being evil” quality fans appreciated from the cartoon is certainly there, complete with the ridiculous taunts and alliterative insults we’ve all come to love. It’s a performance almost evocative of Tim Curry in Legend, but played tongue-in-cheek in pure cartoon fashion at all the right moments.

If there’s anything to find fault in with Masters of The Universe, it may be that it comes dangerously close to being longer than it needs to be. A shame that it doesn’t reserve some of this runtime to add development to Adam’s time on Earth leading up to the present day. Some of the easter eggs and in-jokes can feel clunky, even though I appreciated the swing for the fences. Most of them DO work, but I can imagine one or two specifically that may have the audience groaning. And while I thought she did her best, Alison Brie as Evil-Lyn was probably the weakest part of the cast. Not to say her performance was bad, but just outshined by everyone else. There is at least potential for her to have more room to truly make the character her own if we’re fortunate enough to get a sequel.

When all is said and done, Masters of the Universe succeeds in being an all-around good bit of cheesy 80s fantasy-inspired fun. It is a film that should please fans of the original property while providing more than enough action, humor, and genuine heart for general audiences. There is an undeniable charm to the film as it dives headfirst into the silliness of the original cartoon while being chucklingly self-referential, but never embarrassed by it. Director Travis Knight is wearing his love of Masters of the Universe on its sleeve in a big way, ultimately giving us the adaptation we’ve all been waiting for.

(3.75 out of 5)

There has always been an art to making a good slasher film. It’s even better when you can balance the tone with that of a taut noir mystery. Screenwriter Andrew Kevin Walker succeeded with the latter in spades when he penned the screenplay for Se7en, which was directed by David Fincher back in 1995. To be fair, he’s never been particularly prolific, although his work on both Sleepy Hollow and 8mm are certainly appreciated. After reteaming with Fincher on 2023’s The Killer, Walker has returned to the murder mystery playground with the even more bluntly titled Psycho Killer.

After state trooper Jane Archer, played by Georgina Campbell witnesses the murder of her husband during a routine traffic stop, she decides to take matters into her own hands and search for the culprit. Suspected of being a serial killer known as the Satanic Slasher, he has cut a bloody swath through a handful of states, leaving grizzly crime scenes in his wake, complete with cryptic messages. It’s not long before Archer deduces that the killings may be connected to a mass murder committed decades earlier, and she may be running out of time to catch the Slasher before he enacts his final plan.

One of the biggest hurdles for Psycho Killer to overcome is its script. Having been in development since 2007, with Limp Bizkit frontman Fred Durst at one point tapped to direct, the final product, courtesy of first-time feature director Gavin Polone, is heavily mired in the early aughts aesthetic and tone influenced by films like Saw and its early sequels. Its nihilistic edge feels dull and dated with little to none of the subversiveness or nuance we saw in the few films of the era that managed to resonate with audiences. The plot lumbers along lifelessly from scene to scene as Archer tries to connect with law enforcement in states where the Slasher has killed, while we’re treated to scenes of the Slasher being the most conspicuous murder suspect put to film in recent memory whenever he’s not murdering people.

I can understand the desire for the character to be physically imposing, but the 6’5” frame of former professional wrestler James Preston Rogers may have been overdoing it. At this size, along with the character sporting a mane of long grungy hair and wearing sunglasses that obscure his face and wearing a long weathered duster coat, the Satanic Slasher can feel somewhat cartoonish, compared to the overall tone of the rest of the film. There are definitely instances where this can work, but Psycho Killer clearly wants to be seen as more cerebral and psychological . . . not that it’s doing any of the work necessary to convey such qualities.

Psycho Killer’s presentation of the “mystery” surrounding the Satanic Slasher is as lazy as it is laughable, with Jane haphazardly struggling to piece together his possible motives and his connection to a previous killer who seemingly died in prison. She’s introduced to an FBI agent sympathetic to her cause, turning in one of the dullest performances in the film to provide exposition, but I was surprised that this character never factored into the story again after this encounter. Perhaps that agent could have gotten more screen time if not for the inclusion of Malcolm McDowell taking up a sizable chunk of it in a film that clocks in at just over 90 minutes.

As elusive Satanist radio host Mr. Pendleton, McDowell slums it as only he can as a voice guiding the Satanic Slasher as kills his way through the bible belt, before the two finally meet in person at the film’s midway point. His inclusion is meant to serve the story in a rather vital capacity, but I am confident that the information the Satanic Slasher is searching for could have been acquired without the film taking this detour into Pendleton’s “inner sanctum”, as he and his followers engage in all manner of bacchanalia. Not to object to Psycho Killer’s transparent desire to earn its R-rating, but a short runtime coupled with tonal indecisiveness rarely makes for a satisfying cinematic experience. I respect Malcolm McDowell and believe him to be one of the finest actors ever to grace the silver screen, but he is giving us nothing with his performance.

Thank the heavens for Georgina Campbell doing her best despite the anemically-written material for her character. Her performance is brimming with emotion and gritty determination as she sets out to find the Satanic Slasher, struggling with where this road to vengeance will take her. A significant plot point is introduced to raise the stakes, but unfortunately never receives any genuine exploration to strengthen the story or the character. Still, Campbell’s tenacity proves to be one of the few sparks to the overall film.

A fair argument could be made that Psycho Killer could have worked in the hands of a more capable director, and not someone known almost exclusively as a producer throughout their 25-plus year career in the industry. The film goes through the motions with so few scenes leaving any true impact. Almost every character feels lifeless with no desire to add anything to their performances beyond reading what’s on the page. There are a handful of moments in Psycho Killer one would expect to have more of a visual flair to them or be presented in a way that builds tension, but I fear Polone lacked the creativity to push these moments further. We do get a long single take of gore that admittedly packs a punch, but nothing matches this energy in the preceding or subsequent scenes. I also came to a sobering realization by the third act of what Psycho Killer reminded me of, as I asked myself, “Is this movie an undercover adaptation of the spree-killing video game Hatred from 2014?!” The combination of certain aesthetic choices and a few major narrative similarities as the film reached its climax undoubtedly left me in a state of ponderance.

As much as I was looking forward to Psycho Killer, the resulting film proved to be a poorly-paced slog, aimlessly trying to recapture the hype of 2000s slasher films, most of which weren’t particularly worth their salt to begin with. The few that achieved some moderate success did so almost in spite of themselves, while capitalizing on the mainstream pop culture landscape that heavily favored teen and young adult audiences at the time. Almost 20 years later, Psycho Killer offers nothing new while struggling to bring its own unique quality to the slasher genre in any way that would make it at the very least palatable. As commanding as her performance is, Georgina Campbell can only do so much to elevate the material.

(1 out of 5)

How many more times can we adapt Dracula to film? Is there a limit? How much time should pass between adaptations?

I feel like these are important questions to ask, especially with French director Luc Besson offering his own adaptation of the legendary horror icon with Dracula: A Love Tale. I remember when the trailer for this film was released last year, and immediately thought that Luc was, rather shamelessly, reheating Francis Ford Coppola’s nachos. So much of it looked to be retreading the beats of that classic 1992 film to a degree one might categorize as obscene. I also found myself questioning the casting of Caleb Landry Jones in the title role. Not to say that he isn’t a great actor, but hardly my first choice to play the titular character.

Watching the film for myself, it’s still difficult to divorce one’s self from the idea of Luc Besson plagiarizing Coppola to some extent. This Dracula also brought the curse of immortality and insatiable bloodlust upon himself after believing that God had spurned him, rejecting his prayers to spare the life of his beloved Elizabeta, after he left to lead his army against the Turks. We even see Dracula as a decrepit old man with an absurd hairstyle, having lured Johnathan Harker to his castle 400 years later to broker a property sale. Upon discovering the uncanny resemblance Harker’s fiancée Mina bears to his lost love, Dracula plots to win her affection, after feasting on enough blood to regain his youth and acquiring a dapper suit and top hat. Besson’s cribbing of some of the visual language of Bram Stoker’s Dracula is shameless to say the least.

Despite this, I couldn’t bring myself to write the film off completely. Though not entirely without fault, the execution in retelling one of the most retold stories in classic literature was never boring. The production and costume design in this film are absolutely breathtaking, with the use of color being lush, vibrant and with earnest intent. Besson is less interested in presenting Dracula through the lens of gothic horror and more through that of a dark fairy tale, which I think works for the most part. This is accentuated by the score composed by Danny Elfman, giving the film a surprisingly whimsical undertone one might not expect from Dracula, yet manages to suit the character perfectly.

To that end, Caleb Landry Jones’ performance as Dracula feels more like a natural fit, given Besson’s approach to the material. He plays the character as a man madly in love only to have that love taken from him, and he conveys not just pain, but hopelessness, effortlessly in every scene. Even at his most menacing, the idea of Dracula being motivated by love and the pain of no longer having it is palpable. There is less pressure on Jones to play the character as a figure of terror than other actors have in the past. In certain scenes he’s even given the freedom to portray the character in a manner bordering on effeminate, if not outright androgynous.

For all its self-serious melodrama, Dracula: A Love Tale can feel unabashedly absurd if not downright campy at times, but never to a point that it breaks the overall tone of the film. One particular montage details Dracula’s quest to formulate a fragrance to make him to irresistible to anyone that catches its scent, encapsulating the unapologetic extravagance of the early era of music videos blended with off Broadway theater. The score breaks from the classical and whimsical to something that feels anachronistically electronic, if only for the briefest of moments. As a whole, the film never feels overtly tongue-in-cheek but for crying out loud, Dracula having imp-sized living gargoyles who do his bidding is unavoidable silly!

In addition to Caleb Landry Jones, the supporting cast is just a hair above average, with Zoe Bleu pulling double duty as Dracula’s would-be bride Elizabeta and Mina Murray, who he encounters centuries later. The chemistry between them is quite strong, especially as Mina is introduced to Dracula and is slowly drawn in by his charms, but there isn’t enough material for her to truly flourish beyond her connection to him. In this regard she is somewhat upstaged by Matilda De Angelis as her friend and Dracula’s vampire consort Maria. Even without her prosthetic fangs, she is chewing the scenery every moment that she’s on screen, playing her character as playful and mischievous as she is seductive. Never meant to be terrifying, Maria is chaotically playful, even in her interactions with other characters unaware of her true nature.

Surprisingly understated in his performance however is Christophe Walz as Abraham Van Helsing. The role seems tailor made for the actor’s often braggadocious demeanor, yet in this film he is reigned in and decidedly deadpan. Portrayed as a Catholic priest, Walz’s take on Van Helsing is that of a “matter of fact” pragmatist, which I suppose is a necessary counterbalance to the overall audaciousness of the film in general. I just wish there was a bit more of a spark to his character in certain scenes.

Dracula: A Love Tale still remembers to include some bloodshed, but does so in a collection of scenes that are patently absurd. Dracula’s initial rejection of God is a rather audacious display of violence; stabbing a stone cross like Gary Oldman did in Bram Stoker’s Dracula isn’t nearly blasphemous enough, apparently, when you can instead stab a priest with a giant gold cross. Trying to hide your vampiric nature from a human but still feeling peckish? Just sneak in a little rat’s blood when they’re not watching you. Need enough blood to not look like a wrinkled bulldog anymore? Dab a little CK One on your neck and whip a convent of nuns into hysteria until they lift you up to mimic a Frank Frazetta painting before sucking their blood. Soldiers storming your castle? Better give them some of that Fifth Element space opera fight!

Despite its flaws, I can’t sit here and tell you that I wasn’t entertained. As much as Dracula: A Love Tale owes to Bram Stoker’s Dracula, there is more than enough deviation for it to feel like its own unique interpretation of the character. Not every choice is successful, but there are others that worked to keep me engaged and willing to see how it all ended. Caleb Landry Jones is surprisingly effective in his portrayal of Dracula, fully invested in presenting him with genuine complexity, while balancing this with a flamboyance that straddles the edge without ever diving fully into pure silliness. Luc Besson’s ability to balance tones and tell a story that never undercuts the drama and romance is commendable, even if it does little to break any new ground with regards to such a timeless character in horror fiction.

(3.25 out of 5)

‘Dracula: A Love Tale’ Proves Too Fascinatingly Bizarre To Dismiss was originally published in Fanfare on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Few authors have produced as many works of literature in their lifetime as horror master Stephen King has in a career that has spanned over 50 years. Even fewer have had as many of their works adapted to film and television for that matter. His output has been so prolific in fact, that he created the pseudonym of Richard Bachman in the late 1970s to release more books than his publisher would allow him to under his real name. Of course the general public would get wise to the ruse by the mid-80s, especially with the film adaptation of his novel The Running Man starring Arnold Schwarzenegger in 1987. That film was still credited as being “based on a novel by Richard Bachman”, but credit was given to King in the most recent version released last fall, which was directed by Edgar Wright. This past fall also saw the release of another adaptation of a Bachman novel, The Long Walk. Both novels focused on dark totalitarian futures where the fates of the main characters feel hopelessly bleak.

However the novel Thinner made for a far more conventional horror tale. Originally released in 1984, Thinner tells the tale of heavy-set lawyer Billy Halleck, who is cursed by an elderly Romani man named Tadzu Lempke, as punishment for Billy running over his daughter, albeit accidentally, yet ultimately receiving no punishment. As a result, Billy starts losing weight dramatically without exercise or changing his diet, and eventually fears that he’ll keep losing weight until he dies.

Thinner would be adapted for the screen in 1996, directed by Tom Holland (NOT the star of Marvel Studios’ Spider-Man films), who is best known for horror films like Fright Night and Child’s Play, and starring Robert John Burke as Billy Halleck. Critics and audiences may have been lukewarm on the film upon its release, but I’ve always had a soft spot for it. In my opinion, it has a strong cast, some great makeup effects from the late Greg Cannom to show Billy’s progression from almost 300 pounds to looking damn near skeletal near the end of the film, and the comedic edge to the horror was something I especially enjoyed.

At its core, Thinner is your standard morality tale that feels very much in the vein of the classic horror anthology Tales From The Crypt. And as many times as I’ve seen the film since its release 30 years ago, I’m genuinely surprised at myself for having never considered how evocative it is of the series until recently. This is fitting when we consider Tom Holland directed a handful of episodes for that series at the height of its popularity. His approach to the horror and building of tension in Thinner feels almost Hitchcock-inspired, while being accentuated by moments of gallows humor. A nightmare sequence at a carnival in particular, after Billy has lost almost half his body weight and encounters the judge who cleared him of wrongdoing, now covered in flaking scales after being cursed as well, is as silly as it is terrifying.

The inclusion of Joe Mantegna as Richie Ginelli, a mafioso that Billy represents and wins an acquittal for early in the film, is a scenery chewing delight when reintroduced in the latter half. Bordering on parody, Richie is called upon by Billy when his condition becomes inescapably dire, taking it upon himself to orchestrate a string of violent escalations against Lempke and his people to force him to remove the curse from Billy.

As Tadzu Lepmke, veteran actor Michael Constantine makes the most of his character, able to play him with a range from justifiably enraged to comedically maniacal in certain scenes, to the end where his performance pivots to being surprisingly dramatic. His plea to Billy in their last scene together to “Die clean” is delivered with such genuine sincerity and sympathy for the man he cursed that it definitely caught me off-guard.

So much of Thinner is underscored with melodrama and camp while still managing to highlight the body horror of Billy Halleck, as he struggles to find answers, while also suspecting that his wife is having an affair with the town physician who he belittlingly refers to as “Doctor Mike”. Both want Billy admitted to a healthcare facility after preliminary tests fail to explain his rapid weight loss. One of Thinner’s biggest strengths is Robert John Burke, who lost 20 pounds for the role, in addition to enduring varying degrees of prosthetics and fat suits. He imbues Billy with a combination of confidence and optimism, tinged with insecurity about his weight early in the film. However this ultimately gives way to an escalating rage that eventually turns into a palpable dread that he effortlessly conveys as his character becomes more emaciated.

The timing of Thinner’s release also couldn’t be more apt in terms of viewing it through the lens of Tales From The Crypt. The property branched out into film with the release of Demon Knight in 1995, with its follow-up, Bordello of Blood releasing the next year, in close proximity to Thinner. It’s also worth noting two other films that were released in 1996, that were at certain points in their respective developments, considered to bear the Tales From The Crypt brand; The Frighteners and From Dusk Til Dawn. This expansion, especially into feature films, was clearly a high priority, even if the endeavor proved to be less successful than the creators and studios involved may have hoped. At least the Saturday morning cartoon was a modest hit!

It’s also interesting to consider how Thinner may have turned out if it had been successfully adapted to the big screen in the late 1980s. Producer Dino De Laurentis had wanted Sam Raimi to direct, and I can only imagine how much more visually dynamic Thinner could have been. Fast tilted zoom-ins on characters, cross-dissolve montages with floating hamburgers, desserts, and skeletons in black negative space, the possibilities were endless! To say nothing of the likelihood of Bruce Campbell being tapped to play Billy Halleck, and wouldn’t that have been something! I could certainly see an overlap between Campbell and Burke in terms of their physical builds, willingness to endure prosthetics, and their sensibilities as performers. Campbell has been well known throughout his career for his broadly comedic performances, but in thinking about what might have been, it’s not out of the realm of possibility for him to play this kind of role, and delve into its darker aspects.

Perhaps a bit outdated in its depictions of Romani people and their culture, Thinner does try to make some effort to explore prejudice, as Lempke seeks justice for his daughter’s death, only to be denied by a cabal of affluent white suburbanites. If they’re not making malicious claims of Lempke’s people being nothing but thieves and grifters who spread disease, they’re sexualizing his great granddaughter, played by Kari Wuhrer, any chance they get. Even as Billy pleads for forgiveness, claiming he didn’t see Lempke’s daughter when she was crossing the street before he hit her, Lempke’s response hits still stays with you; “Why wasn’t you watching, white man from town? Why wasn’t you watching? You never SEE us!” It’s not terribly deep, especially given how focused the story of Thinner is on Billy’s perspective, but SOME effort was made.

And at this point, you may want to stop reading, as I’m about to venture into spoiler territory, so I can once again explore how Tales From The Crypt-coded Thinner has always been, at least to me now in retrospect.

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Now, Tales From The Crypt has no shortage of tragically ironic endings throughout its seven season run. And while the adaptation of Thinner draws directly from the original novel for its ending, it makes a few choices to end things in a manner worthy of the Cryptkeeper himself. After Lempke agrees to help Billy pass the curse onto someone else, in a wince-inducing scene involving Lempke stabbing Billy in an already wounded hand and pouring his blood into a strawberry pie, he tells Billy to have someone else eat it to lift the curse. Naturally, Billy decides to offer it to his wife as retribution for her infidelity. The next morning, Billy awakens to her desiccated corpse and knows that she had a piece. He’s so proud of himself that he kisses her on the mouth like a right-proper freak.

The joy doesn’t last long however, as he heads down to the kitchen and sees two plates in the sink with remnants of pie on them. His teenage daughter comes into the kitchen, elated that he’s back home after being away for days. She tells him that she just had a piece of the pie, and Billy is now devastated. Thinking back to Lempke’s final plea to eat the pie himself so that he could “die clean”, he seemingly decides to end it all when the door bell rings. Answering, Billy is standing face to face with Doctor Mike, who has come to apologize for how he handled Billy’s situation. Billy tells the good doctor that all is forgiven . . . and that he should join him for a piece of pie. Doctor Mike accepts the invitation and enters the house, as Billy stays at the door, silently and ominously referring to him as “White doctor from town” before smiling to himself and shutting the door.

I remember watching this ending play out in the theater when I first saw Thinner, and it remains one of my favorite endings to a movie in general. Even in the sadness and grief of Billy realizing the fate he’s doomed his own child to, the final note of the film is delightfully devious and chuckle-worthy. Given some of the more outlandish moments in the film, I appreciated the consistency through to its ending. The film revels in its absurdity while never losing sight of the horror. The terror is ever-present even when the film invites you to laugh and take a moment to collect yourself, before pulling you back in and reminding you what’s at stake for the main character. The movie may be a mook . . . but it’s MY mook!

As difficult as it may be to discuss topics like sexual assault and suicide, there is value in exploring these issues through art, as is the case with the short film Shame. Starring and written by Ashna Sharan (Our Flag Means Death, Twenties) and directed by Kelly Lynn Warren, the short follows a young woman named Sophie as she returns home after being assaulted, and afraid to share what she’s been through with her friend and roommate, played by Sophia Cofino (Michael & Maria vs. The Multiverse), given that her assailant is someone they both know.

Clocking in at just under five minutes, Shame ambitiously crafts its story from the perspective of both women, highlighting Sophie’s emotional despair juxtaposed with Wanda’s excitement for the day her and Sophie have planned for themselves. Of course Shame never forgets that this is Sophie’s story, and the script and actors do the work to explore an all too familiar situation in our society with a deft hand and nuanced tone.

There is an efficiency and restraint to the dialogue that never overplays the central scene of the film. As Sophie, Ashna Sharan’s performance is understated and reserved, conveying the fear and apprehension of her character, as she struggles with what’s happened to her, and the likelihood of her friend not believing her if she shared the truth. As Wanda, Sophia Cofino never overplays the bubbly cheerfulness of her character, unaware of what her friend has been through. Their interactions feel natural with only a hint of escalating tension that leads into the finale.

Kelly Lynn Warren’s direction pulls the viewer in and trusts us to follow the story without laying everything out for us. Smash cuts to brief flashback moments of Sophia’s assault are shot with an awareness as to imply without being needlessly graphic. Closeups on restrained arms and legs without ever showing the actors’ faces or whole bodies, coupled with the occasional screams, leave more than enough to the audience’s imagination. The entire creative team behind Shame understand the risks of portraying sexual assault on screen and have done their best to include it in this short without it ever feeling exploitative.

Shame is an all too familiar story, but one always worth exploring to keep a dialogue open about the effects of such traumatic events. The team behind the short do not shy away from the plight of victims of assault, acknowledging the harsh realities of needing to be heard, and the fear of not being believed.

Please follow the links below for more information on Shame:

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There are a fair amount of unsettling horror films that revolve around children. It’s fair to say that the ground for mining deeply terrifying tales centered around them is especially fertile. Whether they’re framed as the protagonists or antagonists, prey or the hunters, there’s no denying the overwhelming dread that can come from placing children at the forefront of a given horror story.

With Weapons, writer/director Zach Cregger’s follow-up to 2022’s Barbarian, he’s set his sights on another suburban setting as a town finds themselves at a loss as to why all but one child from a single third grade elementary school class have gone missing. Beyond this common thread, authorities are able to ascertain that all of the children left their homes at exactly 2:17am, running out into the night. As the story unfolds, the audience is shown how this event has affected the lives of key members of the community, from the teacher whose students have disappeared, to the father of one of the students, as well as the one child who was left behind.

Overall, Weapons is more about its dark atmosphere and creating a sense of dread throughout the runtime. The pacing can be debilitatingly slow, but almost never without reason. This air of foreboding lingers throughout the town without ever feeling close enough for any of the characters to see it coming, until it finally does. Most members of the community are fixated on the idea of the children’s teacher Justine is responsible for their disappearance, and the film effectively conveys the “angry mob” trope without truly overselling it.

Helping this balanced approach to the story is Weapons’ adoption of a Rashomon-style framing device, with the film taking you through multiple series of events within a single time frame from each principal character’s perspective. We see how this event has affected each of them, and in most cases they’re experiencing their own unique terrors that manage to have a common denominator. Julia Garner’s Justine is inundated with taunts and threats from the parents of the missing children. Josh Brolin’s Archer is letting the loss of his son consume him, affecting his work, until he starts trying to piece together what may have happened. Alden Ehrenreich’s Paul is a police officer mostly just trying to hold the tenuous threads of his life together as external factors unrelated to the missing children serve to escalate the tension.

Weapons can feel like it’s trying to be about something, yet some of the symbolism that it employs is so ambiguous to the point of being superfluous. This is not to say that I wished for Weapons to make more sense than it ultimately did. Ambiguity can be effective in terms of how it’s incorporated into certain stories, especially within horror. However I did struggle with this at certain points during the film. While I can concede that some of these elements may have gone over my head, I’m more inclined to believe they just didn’t work as well as Zach Cregger may have intended.

Much of Weapons’ horror comes from that slow burn and a gradual building of tension that leads to multiple jump scares, even if some of them feel a bit too similar by the end of the second act. One of the things working in the film’s favor is the cinematography; the way the camera moves with characters draws you in while sometimes throwing you off balance at just the right moment. You’re waiting for that jump scare but you can never truly guess where or when it’s going to come, if it even comes at all. When certain characters start attacking each other, these are “off-the-rails” types of moments that can range from being genuinely frightening to almost comically absurd. It’s a testament to Cregger’s direction in knowing how and when to shift the tone in these moments without losing his hold on the audience. While I hesitate to call Weapons a gory film, there are a few scenes where audiences may wince in disgust.

In terms of performances, this is where Weapons shines the brightest. Julia Garner continues to prove herself as one of the best in the business at the moment, pivoting to her ominous and stoic turn as the Silver Surfer in Fantastic Four: First Steps just last month to here as a persecuted school teacher desperate to hold it together as the whole town is seemingly against her. Garner brings the right amount of depth and emotion playing Justine as confrontational but not entirely combative. The film gives her room to be playful and not as completely dour as one might expect. Ranging from bouts of controlled rage to overwhelming sadness, Josh Brolin is equally effective as Archer. Outside of more tense moments between him and Garner, there are quieter beats to his performance, selling you on the fear of the unknown as it relates to the disappearance of his character’s son. Brolin makes you believe in Archer’s confusion and the fear that he may never find out what happened.

As engaging as these two leads are, it’s the supporting cast members who prove to be the standouts. It’s been a joy to see Alden Arenreich grow from Solo: A Star Wars Story. In Weapons, so much of what he’s doing with his character is internal and being brought to the surface through sheer body language. His nervous posture and pensive facial expressions convey a deep well of insecurities that eventually push the character beyond his limits. Austin Abrahms performance as an enterprising yet frantic drug user helps to break the overall tension of the film, while Amy Madigan is appropriately chilling as the aunt of the only child who didn’t go missing, played by Cary Christopher.

Admittedly, I expected a bit more from Weapons but by no means am I disappointed by what it gave me. This is a moody, atmospheric slow burn of a thriller where much of the horror comes from your imagination in addition to what Zach Cregger is presenting as a filmmaker. The overall tone of the film is delightfully unnerving with a handful of chilling moments and a stellar cast, making it well worth keeping in the greater conversation with regard to horror films released in 2025.

(3.75 out of 5)

Yeah, this character was done so dirty

(Contains spoilers.)

Much has been said about the quality of Marvel Studios’ output recently, as fans and critics continue to bicker over the commercial success and/or critical reception of its latest offerings. From arguably dominating the summer of 2024 with the release of Deadpool & Wolverine, to the moderate success of this year’s Captain America: Brave New World, to the split-down-the-middle reaction to Daredevil: Born Again, things have been somewhat spotty, at least in my opinion. I didn’t even bother to watch the last season of Multiverse Madlibs (aka Marvel’s What If . . . ?).

I was certainly looking forward to Thunderbolts*, despite not being sure what to expect from its assembly of disparate characters from previous Marvel projects, including Yelena Bolova, The Red Guardian, U.S. Agent, Ghost, Bucky Barnes, and Taskmaster. Though I never read the Marvel comic, I was aware of its premise revolving around a group of heroes who were ultimately revealed to be lesser-known villains who were using the charade to enact a plan for world domination. The concept has evolved over time, as the team roster has changed, but the potential for taking some of the MCU’s more anti-heroic characters and making them a team certainly held promise.

Imagine my surprise upon watching Thunderbolts* and finding it to be one of the most grounded and almost un-Marvel films to come out from the studio in some time, which may be one of its biggest strengths. It is a film heavily invested in exploring the the choices of some of these characters, their grief, regret, and their feelings of isolation and depression in a genuinely mature way. In encountering the character of Bob, they’re forced to not only fight against the threat he poses late in the film, but most importantly themselves.

This is especially the case for Yelena, who feels lost as she carries out one mission after another for shady government agency director Valentina Allegra de Fontaine. She struggles with how to move forward with her life after the death of her sister Natasha, and wonders if she has anything to truly offer the world. Florence Pugh plays the role masterfully, imbuing the character with a deep emotional sadness that reaches its breaking point by the third act before giving way to a strength and resolve needed to combat her inner demons, as well as a seemingly incomprehensible evil.

Foregoing the grandiose spectacle of most Marvel Studios films, Thunderbolts* is refreshingly understated in its approach to action and visual effects, while offering a resolution that’s decidedly more psychological and emotionally impactful than most might have expected. This film is doing a lot to take each of these characters and provide some degree of self-reflection while offering them a chance to redeem and forgive themselves. A shame that one character in particular wasn’t afforded this opportunity.

Now I’m not stupid. Most of the footage used to market Thunderbolts* made it painfully clear that Taskmaster probably wasn’t making it beyond the scene where her, Yelena, Ghost, and John “U.S. Agent” Walker first butt heads. This of course didn’t stop Marvel Studios from deceptively shoehorning her into printed marketing materials for the film as if she was going to be as central a character as the others. Needless to say, I was extremely disappointed to see her dispatched so unceremoniously after little more than 60 seconds of screen time, courtesy of a bullet to the brainpan from Ghost.

Introduced in 2021’s Black Widow, Taskmaster was a character shrouded in mystery throughout the first two and half acts of the film. A ruthless assassin able to mimic the fighting style of any opponent, they proved incredibly formidable against Natasha Romanov and her sister Yelena. It stood to reason that Taskmaster’s identity would be revealed over the course of the film, but the mechanics of it never worked for me.

The reveal of the main villain pulling all the strings of a Widow program involving mind control being someone Natasha thought she had already killed was fine. But the idea that her target’s daughter had seemingly been killed instead, brought the picture into focus for me. Couple that with actress Olga Kurylenko being listed in the film’s opening credits but nowhere to be seen before the climax (opening credits being a rare occurrence for Marvel Studios films), and it wasn’t really that hard to put two and two together.

Kurylenko may not be as recognizable a name as other A-list actors, but she’s not without a handful of notable lead roles, including playing a Bond girl with an effectively layered backstory in Quantum of Solace. She certainly has enough of a resume that I always felt that casting her as the adult Antonia Dreykov/Taskmaster in Black Widow was a bit cheap. Most of the character’s action relied on stunt doubles, with Kurylenko only revealing herself at the film’s end. And like in Thunderbolts*, she has only a single line of dialogue.

If any character would have benefitted from deeper exploration after everything they had been through, you would think that she would have been at the top of this list. To say nothing of the opportunity to give a fairly established actress with 20 years of experience a chance to truly make the character her own. Not that chronically-online comic book fans upset at Black Widow’s version of Taskmaster not being “comic-accurate” would see it that way. And while I can understand the disappointment, it is once again important to acknowledge that the general audience that primarily contributes to the commercial success of most comic book films . . . I am almost certain . . . could not have given a dead moose’s last shit.

For the people who only enjoy these films on a level slightly above “filthy casual”, some of them may have been genuinely engaged by the reveal of a girl inadvertently caught in the crossfire of Natasha’s past misdeeds, subsequently being robbed of her identity and turned into a killing machine by her own father. Upon realizing that she’d be featured in Thunderbolts*, after being freed from her father’s control, I could see a fair number of folks intrigued at how that character could have been expanded upon. From the time Thunderbolts* was announced, I was personally excited by this very prospect.

So for her to be killed off so nonchalantly halfway through the first act of the film was genuinely disheartening. It felt like a missed opportunity. And with everything Thunderbolts* does so overwhelmingly right, this took the whole thing down a notch for me. Ultimately it just seemed like a waste for the film to not give Taskmaster some measure of grace, when it was so clearly deserved.

Thunderbolts* Is Great . . . Except For This One Little Thing was originally published in Fanfare on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

This summer, Marvel Studios brings their “first family” back to the big screen in Fantastic Four: First Steps. Directed by Matt Shakman and starring Pedro Pascal, Vanessa Kirby, Ebon Moss-Bachrach, and Joseph Quinn, the film finds Marvel’s premiere superhero team adjusting to life after returning from a space mission with extraordinary abilities. Comparable to 2011’s Captain America: The First Avenger, this latest cinematic incarnation of the Fantastic Four leans heavily into a 1950s timeframe and a retro-futuristic aesthetic, which harkens back to the characters introduction in the comics. And implies the film does not necessarily take place in the same universe as the MCU films that preceded it.

The first full teaser is definitely encouraging. It visually stands apart from other MCU films, which had a tendency to blend into one another. The “World’s Fair Americana” look gives it a visual texture that’s immediately engaging without feeling too saccharine, which is surprising. I still would have preferred either Timothy Olyphant or Chris Pine as Reed Richards, but oh well.

With a new film on the horizon, it’s natural to look back at the previous adaptations of these beloved characters, and perhaps trash those earlier efforts. I’m going to pass on that opportunity. For those who haven’t seen it, I highly recommend the documentary Doomed: The Untold Story of Roger Carman’s Fantastic Four, which shines a light on how the rights holders misled the cast and crew into believing the film they were making was actually meant to be released. And at best, I consider the 2015 incarnation woefully ill-advised on both the studio and the filmmakers’ parts.

Then there’s 2005’s Fantastic Four.

Some like to frame it as an objectively terrible film not worthy of the characters it’s based on. Not me. I can recognize its faults but I genuinely believe it absolutely nails is the chemistry of its cast. The interactions between the characters feel earned and believable. The idea of Reed and Sue not starting the film as a couple and in fact having broken up in the past makes for an engaging arc as both characters find their way back to each other. Johnny being playfully antagonistic towards Ben until it eventually comes to blows in public creates real tension. Ioan Gruffud, Jessica Alba, Chris Evans, and Michael Chiklis all turn in good-to-great performances. They do tend to lean toward being more comedic and admittedly cheesy at times, but the tone helps when they transition to more serious moments and have to come together as a team.

Each actor possesses a tangible quality that works for their character. Gruffud was a relative unknown to American audiences at the time, but he sells us on Reed’s analytical pragmatism. Hollywood may have wanted to capitalize on Alba’s model looks, but she conveys a warmth and desire to be the maternal figure of the group that resonates in her interactions with the rest of the cast. Evans proves himself highly adept at walking a fine line between being charismatic and maybe too arrogant for his own good in a way few actors are truly able to pull off, making him perfect for Johnny. And then there’s Michael Chiklis, who was at the height of his career as the star of the gritty FX cop drama The Shield (though many Gen X’ers remember him for his more lovable role on The Commish).

I remember folks not liking the idea of The Thing being just a practical suit, but it was executed quite well and still holds up today. It wasn’t a comfortable experience for Chiklis, but I don’t think he gets nearly enough credit for turning in such a strong and transformative performance as Ben Grimm. I know some fans on social media obsess over every minute detail of live-action interpretations of comic-based characters and scream “Comic Accurate!!!” as though that’s synonymous with “looks good in live-action.” However, it didn’t matter to me that Ben wasn’t over seven feet tall with an oversized brow when Chiklis was bringing the depth and sadness you expect from the character, while also managing to have moments of joy and resolve. There’s an emotional weight to how he plays the character, especially through the suit and prosthetics, and it’s always been a big part of why the film works for me.

There’s less meat on the bone for Julian McMahon as Victor Von Doom, but I’d argue some of that potential gets realized in the sequel (Rise of the Silver Surfer). It’s not hard to see why he was cast. Like Chiklis, he was making a name for himself on the popular FX series Nip/Tuck as Christian Troy. Playing an almost cartoonishly vain plastic surgeon with questionable ethics made him an all too obvious choice to play an image-conscious megalomaniacal villain. And for what it’s worth, I was never mad at his performance. I still like the green coat he rocks in the film in lieu of his more traditional tunic.

The action and overall scale of the film may not reach the heights teased in this new version, but I think a lot of the effects hold up. The costumes were simple yet effective. Pulling off Reed’s stretching powers was always going to be a challenge because it’s difficult to shake the inherent silliness of it. Sue’s invisibility always worked for me, especially whenever it looks like she’s made out of glass. The fire effects for Johnny are still solid after 20 years.

Despite none of my casting or director choices panning out, I’m genuinely looking forward to seeing how Fantastic Four: First Steps fares. Still, I’ll always have a soft spot for the 2005 version because of the family dynamic. I believed in the history and relationships of those characters. Dismiss it as being too campy or cheesy all you want, but everyone makes the most out of what they’re given and the film is breezy, fun, and perfectly watchable.

Discourse around comic book-based media is conditioned to push us towards the extreme ends of the spectrum, and quite frankly I find that sad. Since the days of Ain’t It Cool News and the evolution of social media, we’ve allowed ourselves to value and prioritize extreme reactions whenever we discuss media. We prime ourselves to love or hate something before it even comes out . People build their personalities on social media around upcoming IP and trash anything they believe stands in opposition of whatever brand they’ve pledged loyalty to. Some of those looking forward to the upcoming Fantastic Four film can’t do so without kicking previous incarnations in the teeth.

It’s honestly kind of ironic when you consider that once Marvel started playing around with the multiverse, fans who trashed pre-MCU adaptations started clamoring at the prospect of seeing those characters again, as evidenced by last summer’s Deadpool & Wolverine. While there is a danger to this being used as a crutch (Looking at you, Spider-Man: No Way Home!) the impact of these earlier adaptations can and should be acknowledged. Fans of them do exist, even if the fandom at large tries to speak for all fans. Maybe 2005’s Fantastic Four didn’t give us everything we wanted a Fantastic Four film to be, but I believe it gave us plenty to enjoy as a theatrical film.

In Defense of Fantastic Four (2005) was originally published in Fanfare on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Clearly a lot of fans loved X-Men ’97. The revival of the classic Fox animated series from the 90s was a bonafide hit for Disney Plus when it was released in March of last year. Bringing back a majority of the original voice actors and updating the animation were major points in its favor, as well as taking some legitimate risks in terms of some of the storytelling. And lord knows most fans have heaped praise upon its showrunner/head writer Beau DeMayo. So there was a fair amount of shock and outrage when Marvel Studios fired him just before the series was set to premiere.

I don’t want to get into the weeds of the “controversies” that have been speculated on regarding the potential reasons for his termination, but it’s hard not to feel as though some of his posting on social media in the aftermath didn’t rub me the wrong way. This isn’t to say that Marvel Studios can’t be the ones in the wrong, but even as important as it can be to speak up for yourself when you feel you’ve been unjustly targeted, I can’t help but feel like DeMayo has moved like someone for whom the attention was more important than the truth. And with one of his most recent posts, my “clout-chasing” Spidey Sense really kicked into gear.

Now, one of the biggest cinematic stories of the last few months has been the critical and commercial success of the adaptation of the musical Wicked. As such, the stars of the film Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande have been the “toast of the town”, so to speak. Erivo in particular recently expressed that a dream role for hers would be to play the X-Men character Storm, to which Beau DeMayo tweeted this:

I don’t want to be one of these people who says that Cynthia Erivo shouldn’t be considered for Storm at all, but I’m certainly one of those people who falls into the camp of having never once considered her as a possibility. Fans and their picks for who they want to see play Storm are ubiquitous, with a mix of legitimately thought-out picks and woefully surface-level suggestions. But even deeper than that is where I feel Beau DeMayo is feeding into a bit of recency bias or as it relates to this specific conversation what I like to call “black actor of the moment syndrome”.

Basically whenever a potential genre casting calls for a black actor, folks can only think of whoever the black actor of the moment is or pick from a selection of multiple black actors of the moment. This isn’t to say that some of them wouldn’t be right for a given role or that fans are approaching their suggestions without a reasonable degree of thought, but sometimes it can be painfully obvious when almost zero thought is employed beyond, “a physically fit and attractive black person who’s really popular right now!” Cynthia Erivo is great, but there are a handful of actresses I would rather see play Storm.

But all this has reminded me of some of the issues I legitimately had with X-Men ’97, especially in relation to those who believe Beau DeMayo created something without flaw and is beyond reproach. Because personally I felt like he kind of dropped the ball on Storm in particular. Some folks can piecemeal moments from the first season as examples of her being portrayed as a commanding and fully-fledged character that they claim she wasn’t in the live-action films all they want. But by the end of season one I found most of her character development a bit undercooked, especially given what she went through when the season began.

Facing off against anti-mutant bigots, Storm fell victim to a weapon that robbed her of her mutant powers. For a character as proud of being a mutant as she is often portrayed, this was a devastating blow. Leaving the X-Men and crossing paths with mutant tech master Forge, attempts were made to restore her powers that were initially futile. Of course this is all resolved after an encounter with a malevolent spirit and Storm was able to regain her powers . . . after one and a half episodes. . . Because for whatever stupid “Hanna-Barbera” inspired reason, the team behind X-Men ’97 decided to start a deep and introspective story of self discovery for one of the most beloved X-Men characters by making it the second half of an episode where the first half features Jubilee and Sunspot getting trapped in a video game and hijinks ensue.

And it doesn’t stop there. Sure, dropping the bombshell at the end of episode two that the Jean Grey Scott Summers conceived a whole-ass child with was actually a clone was appropriately shocking. There’s no denying that. My problem was them spending just one episode to have the clone discover that she was created by Mister Sinister, turn evil and terrorize the X-Men, have the real Jean Grey convince her not to be evil anymore, and then have to send her and Scott’s baby into the future to treat whatever techno-virus Sinister had infected him with. These were plot points that I think needed at least two or three episodes to space out and let breathe.

Then the island nation of Genosha became a safe haven for any and all mutants, and Magneto was invited to be part of the leadership. Too bad a terrorist attack by Sentinels resulted in tons of mutants being killed, including our favorite ragin’ cajun Gambit! This gave way to the one-two punch of the season’s “big bad” being revealed as Bastion; in the comics an advanced humanoid Sentinel, now some sort of nebulous fusion of a mutant with Sentinel technology that’s just too convoluted to explain, that’s trying to start a war between mutants and humans because . . . reasons. Meanwhile Magneto reverted back to his old ways and broke his promise to Professor X to lead the X-Men, stole a chunk of the Earth to lift into space and proceeded to butt-ream the magnetic field of the rest of the planet. I don’t know about the rest of y’all but that just seemed like a lot.

Let’s not even get into how clunky and potentially problematic Sunspot’s inclusion was in the series. Some fans have previously criticized the X-Men films for never portraying Sunspot as explicitly Afro-Latino. While he’s certainly visualized as having a darker complexion than his live-action counterparts in X-Men ’97, a few fans still called out the series for his look leaning more towards Latinos of indigenous-American descent. Being that the racial discrimination the character faced in the comics was a fundamental trait in his development, it was surprising how dismissive Beau DeMayo seemed to be regarding the criticism.

The original Fox series at least structured most of its episodes to work as two-parters, while also having 13 episodes per season to work with compared to X-Men ‘97’s ten. This allowed stories time to have a gradual progression. They did this for a Saturday morning cartoon for children 30 years ago! But for nostalgic adults making up the core audience for
X-Men ’97, I feel like we got a lot of sensory overload birthed out of the nature of the streaming model and an acknowledgement that for some of our attention spans have quite frankly devolved. The mandate most likely was to squeeze in as much fan service and overlapping storylines as possible to engender immediate goodwill from an audience already excited to relive their childhood through this new series. Which would make sense considering that there would naturally be frustration in having to wait a minimum of a year to 18 months for the next season.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed X-Men ’97 for the most part. However I feel like it awkwardly clown-carred at least two and a half seasons worth of material into ten episodes and it shows. Some of it works in pieces but as a cohesive narrative I just found there to be a lot of noticeable gaps. I know I shouldn’t accuse folks who praise it as being blinded by nostalgia. Trust me, I lose nothing from them getting more out of it than I did. Sure the animation is cleaner and more dynamic, and it’s not without some genuinely good writing. But I won’t apologize for having issues with it when all was said and done. And yes, I’m mad that they didn’t use the original rock music for the end credits that we never really got to hear from the first season of the Fox series, because they would always play a voiceover promo for other Fox Kids shows over it. Yeah . . . I’m salty about that.