Stress Positions

Terry is a bit of a mess, but he now needs to keep it together to care for his 19-year-old nephew Bahlul, who has a broken leg. Surely he can do so for a little while, right?

Well, first step is to get rid of all the sex-party stuff from the house—his ex-husband’s aging townhouse, by the way; the only thing Terry can afford to live in, because Terry hasn’t worked in years. And did I mention that Bahlul’s mom/Terry’s sister is disgusted by Terry’s gayness? Covid is striking, too, and none of this is stopping Terry’s friends from wanting to meet the “little brown-boy” male model that is Bahlul.

Welcome to Stress Positions! It is wit, heart, and cringe that’s hard to summarize, but fun to watch!

We follow Terry as he spins around his house trying to maintain a calm and care for Bahlul. It is comically stressful and charming. Disinfectant sprays will choke people, kitchen messes will break people, and banter will bite people.

Balancing out the high nervous energy is calm, patient narration from Bahlul and Terry’s friend Karla. Everyone is trying to live together, it seems, while also carving out a space all their own.

The moviemakers hint strongly that fiction can be freeing; that you can think of yourself the way you want to. For Terry, this might be the root of his unhappiness, but for Bahlul, it might be the path to a healthier life. Who knows? Let’s get some food delivered, drink too much, and talk about it.

Can’t clink pots; dirty hands.

Wonka

Please share Wonka with someone you love. Not only does it capture the excitement that chocolate can bring, it reminds us of the deeper truth behind the feeling: It is a gift to share moments with your special people.

The story is that Willy Wonka finally has a chance to sell chocolate in the big city! He’s poor, young, and illiterate, but the lad has a heart of gold—and well, the most incredible chocolates the world has ever seen! Made with fantastical ingredients, these chocs can somehow create a feeling that the eater needs, right then.

Of course, small print and big business want to take advantage. They make it difficult for Wonka (and his new friends) to live their dreams.

What to do? Give up, or use creativity and hard work and friends to make the day brighter? Become greedy, or sing songs to express your emotions, because you’re too important not to be yourself?

Folks, take notes and enjoy. Wonka is the best of cinema: both entertaining and meaningful.

Leo

Leo follows the fifth-grade pet lizard as he observes this year’s group of kids. Though it starts at surface-level, at some point it blasts through itself with such pure heart, again and again, that it becomes a real tear-jerker. Both sweet and meaningful.

Unexpected! Because everyone expects an ordinary year this year. Same teacher; bully; clown. Then a substitute arrives and forces each student to take home gross old Leo for the weekend. Until this point the movie is just an onslaught of gags (which sometimes are hilarious and sharp, like the piranha-esque kindergarteners causing mayhem, and which are other times eye-rollingly cheap); but soon, it’ll transform.

Another year; another batch.

As Leo learns at the students’ homes, these kids have problems. Instead of helicopter parents, a drone. Instead of hugs, a deceased loved-one. And so on. So Leo, who has seen it all before, decides in his old age to do something meaningful with his up-until-now-oh-so-meaningless life. And to do it he breaks the biggest rule there is.

What follows is a series of funny and deeply tender interactions, about as realistic as you could expect it to be when a benevolent lizard speaks human. With some coaxing the kids sing about their problems, and Leo, all wobbly and phlegmy, sings back.

Teaching. An art and a science.

Sure, the pacing can be jerky and uneven. And sure, we could do with quite a few less jokes. But the way the moviemakers capture real concerns—and real solutions to them—is as patient and beautiful as kind old Leo is.

Mamacruz

Grandma’s feelin’ frisky!

Hey, if that makes you uncomfortable, you’re not alone. Cruz herself is ashamed and confused about feeling sexual urges after all these years.

Don’t ask her to ask what Jesus would do; she tried that and it brought her face to face with a life-size, tall young thing. His beard was so thick . . . his torso, so toned . . .

Agh! Cruz’s church-going friends are no help either. Almost as bad as her husband’s snoring. Anyways, we begin to wonder whether abuela is destined to suffer in silence.

And yet, God always gives us a sign, doesn’t God? I mean, the flyer was right outside church!

Soon we see Cruz attending a new kind of service. It’s called sex therapy, and though its devoted are also trying to live better lives, there is no judgment here for confessing fears and desires. Until this point the movie had been delicate, funny, and interesting, but from now on the goodness compounds. Smart moviewriting dissolves witty jokes with touching tales; balances heavy stuff perfectly with light.

Without a doubt Mamacruz would upset a few of Cruz’s old friends. They’d be overreacting, though. Even if ever-so-mildly explicit, it’s a wholesome movie about a person trying her best. Whether by edits or imagery, breathing or focus, it knows just how to build. And release!

Cruz somehow turning a bland moment into a peep show.

Official Competition

Movie people suck. They’re pretentious and vacuous, unabashed and flighty (kinda like this sentence!).

Well, maybe not all of ‘em, but certainly the ones we see in Official Competition. And that’s why this movie is SO MUCH FUN.

In this one, a rich old man funds the production of an artsy movie. He wants awards guaranteed (LOL), so he engages a decorated and eccentric director to help (further LOL). After a well-paced intro establishes all that, the bulk of what we watch is our director and her two lead actors preparing for their new project.

Lola, the free-spirited, genius director that she is, is overbearing. Repeat-that-word-five-times-in-five-different-ways overbearing. Félix gets paid so much he couldn’t care less. Iván, an actor’s actor who thinks the world of himself, puts up with the both of them for the love of his art. Or maybe for the opportunity to win another award.

Their rehearsals are cringe-worthy; each a crapshoot of who will be the most self-serious and antagonistic this time. Not only are their idiosyncracies somehow both silly and creative, the constant uncertainty of who’ll be normal this time adds to the hilarity (helping us identify with otherwise unsympathetic characters).

Smart story-structuring unveils the climax of our movie and their movie at just the right time. Sincere, subtle, and suspenseful when it needs to be, and observant, charming, and funny as all heck, Official Competition is the work of excellent moviemakers. These people don’t take their job too seriously, but they do seriously appreciate its virtues.

Um . . . let’s take a break?

The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls in Love

The title says it all. The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls in Love is an amusing, light-hearted, and romantic affair.

It begins with Randy, the punk. The one who daydreams about her yet-to-be-formed rock band instead of doing homework. The one unashamedly out—and ostracized for it.

Now Evie, she’s oblivious to all that. Popular, scholarly, and conventionally pretty, sure. But naive. So when there’s something wrong with her car, it’s a nerve-wracking experience. Can someone, anyone help? Randy steps in with a smile. In more ways than one, she’s thinking, as she pretends to inflate Evie’s tires. Our characters are revealed.

A first move is made; a friendship blossoms. Scenes where the two interact (think a glance in the hallway while changing classes, or a smile over the table at the diner) capture well the nervous energy of young love. The acting in these moments is pitch-perfect (and redeems the very few moments of over-the-top anger which are clearly manufactured—and uncomfortable to witness). The writing is similarly heavy-handed a very few times, our characters throwing out platitudes that just don’t fit the scene; but again, these moments drown in the sea of good ones.

The story moves at a clip, and is full of humor. Even the dinners leave a mark. Evie’s: refined French inspirations with matter-of-fact conversation. Randy’s: a cacophonous, vegan, lesbian controlled chaos. Each endearing and silly in its own way.

The picture quality lends a certain nostalgic, romantic fuzz to it all. Smart close-ups retain focus on the girls even as they interact with others: We care about what they’re experiencing, after all.

Oh, young love! I hope it lasts. But if it doesn’t, hey, we’ll always have this movie!

Hustlers

Hustlers is about strippers, but not stripping. About beautiful women: beautiful because of their human trials, not their genes. It is funny, serious, and tender all at once.

And it begins with energy. In the first, unbroken scene, Destiny walks out onto the floor of the strip club. With every step the anticipation builds. Music pulses; bodies twist; glitter shimmers. Could this be the way to support grandma?! Then quick edits show us what a shift truly looks like. Glamorous maybe, but work, definitely. And Destiny is not as popular as the other girls.

Then the answer walks into our lives. Gorgeous and experienced, intelligent and independent, she is what Destiny wants to be. So Destiny reaches out for tips (so to speak). 

As Ramona teaches the newbie about how to carry oneself—and gauge the clientele—the two become fast friends. They see themselves in each other, each wanting to be a provider. Destiny especially finds in Ramona the mother she has always wanted. Friendship and commerce? Talk about beauty! 

Then the money dries up. It is 2008, and Wall Street’s excesses have destroyed these Main Street jobs. The movie was delightfully engaging until this point, but now is when the show really gets good. 

When the only way our leads are able to make money is taken away from them, they brainstorm a bailout of their own: Hustle the grand hustlers. The plan is bold and intriguing; creative and creepy. But is it tenable?

Destiny’s part is performed with both range and depth. Big time acting. Her growing closeness with Ramona and their co-workers is touching, even as their plan spirals out of control. Subtle social commentary adds oomph to the show, as do other fantastic moviemaking decisions (like precise use of music and sound effects to emphasize a feeling).

Not only is Hustlers surprising, it is surprisingly good.

Don't Look Up

A comet is heading directly for Earth. Now what?

I’m not quite sure how to answer that question, but Don’t Look Up has me thinking. Although this witty satire is no horror movie, it is recognizable enough to be alarming.

It spotlights ridiculous, frustrating human behavior—yet remains silly and funny and entertaining. Somehow light; somehow tender.

The story begins with Kate, a PhD student. Her anti-establishment haircut is almost as loud as the rap escaping her headphones. She (like her generation?) is smart, capable, and a bit disillusioned with how disgusting and hypocritical people in power seem to be.

Then she discovers a comet. She does the math with her professor, Randall, and the answer is ice cold: The Earth doesn’t stand a chance.

At its simplest, Don’t Look Up is the story of these two (very different) people trying to warn others about impending danger. Though they’re imperfect—she a bit too cynical, he a bit too science-focused—they’re rational and well-meaning overall. And this is where the satire comes in.

Hardly anyone listens. From the classroom to the newsroom to the White House, the people who learn about the comet either shrug it off or look to exploit it for their own gain. We, like our heroes, begin to wonder how the people of the United States have devolved so. Will rationality not be enough to save the day? Will short-sighted self-interest really propel us into the future? Has it always?

One scene sums it all up. When Kate and Randall are waiting to deliver the news to the President, a military man charges them for snacks. We later learn that these snacks were free. Why did he do that? It’s kind of hilarious, kind of enraging. Kate cannot shake this meaningless greed out of her head, even though all of existence will be over soon.

This movie will undoubtedly polarize its viewers, each of whom might have a different perspective on interactions like that one. It lambasts the ethos of many Americans who believe, for example, that scare-tactics are purely power tools, or that profit is the next step in human evolution. But because Don’t Look Up raises important questions about self-education and the role of the individual in a complicated and dangerous world, and because it does so with humor, I can’t help but like it.

Spider-Man: No Way Home

It’s way deep down, I think. The one, irreducible reason why we watch movies. We want to feel again how we felt that very first time, when something on a screen had us thinking, just, WOW.

Sometimes I think chasing that sensation is useless. And then a movie like Spider-Man: No Way Home comes along and I have hope again. Just, WOW.

I’ll get to the story in ten seconds, but at the risk of overstating things, it’s hard to understate how well written, produced, and acted this movie was. The action/adventure/thrills are entertaining, yes; but more importantly, they are held together by the strands of a believable coming-of-age story. In this one, empathy and love don’t always make things easier. Characters—both good and bad—have nuanced internal struggles. This is a superhero movie, matured.

Peter Parker therefore struggles for much of it. This good-natured, rather jacked teen is trying to figure out how to best live in a world that villainizes his superhero alter ego, Spider-Man. His loved ones (Aunt May, girlfriend MJ, friend Ned) usually keep him grounded, but he’s tired of the dramas of his life hurting theirs. So he asks an older, wiser fellow superhero, Dr. Strange, for help. Oh child, how the problems do follow.

If you ever have the chance, I would recommend not pulling on a loose string in the fabric of space and time. To share any other plot points with you would be to spoil (several, wonderful) WOW moments, but it’s sufficient to say that this movie is as fun and funny as it is surprising and deep. Truly a blockbuster.

Sure, you’ll enjoy the story far more if you’re a fan of comic books, previous Marvel or Spider-Man movies. But I wouldn’t consider myself much of either, and boy—no, man—have I been trapped in this web. I am so happy about it.

Vivo

Has your life gone the way you thought it would?

Or does it sometimes feel like you’re just a monkey, flailing around in a complicated world? Well, Vivo can relate with the latter.

OK, he’s a kinkajou, not a monkey. Irrelevant! What matters is that he can sing and dance! Along with friend Andres, he busks at the local plaza. Connection and fulfillment in sunny Havana, Cuba; what’s not to love?!

A letter. A letter written by someone from Andres’s past, asking him to travel all the way to the United States. The old man is ready for this, probably his last big adventure. But Vivo is not. His world was once big and scary, before he found meaning in Andres and his music, and he’s not ready to lose either.

But life happens, doesn’t it? Vivo finds himself journeying alone to Miami, and in doing so, re-learning what it means to engage with his surroundings.

It’s a sweet story, and very often funny. This world is colorful; its animation, in that sweet spot between campy and hyperrealistic. And though a cute, singing animal can do no wrong, Vivo’s friend-along-the-way Gabi, played by Ynairaly Simo, steals the show. Not only is her character (arc) adorable and instructive, Ynairaly’s performance hits high notes across the emotional spectrum.

Music, of course, rounds out the movie. The songwriting is recognizably modern (and recognizably Lin-Manuel Miranda), though rooted firmly in its Afro-Cuban inspiration.

Vivo’s earliest scenes may be on the nose, but that doesn’t bog it down. It’s an energetic, fun family movie—and one whose best parts, funnily enough, are its heavier scenes. When the music stops and the hard work of feeling begins, characters and audience alike have a chance to reflect.

So what if life doesn’t always go the way you thought it would? If it did, how could it ever be better than you had imagined?

Free Guy

Do we need another movie about the rat race? Well, why not? Creatives gonna create, and we can always take it or leave it.

As for Free Guy, you might just leave it.

In this one, we follow handsome but plain Guy. Good morning!, he says to his goldfish each day. What an exceptional experience!, he croons, sipping the same coffee he always orders. Ryan Reynolds’s performance here is typical: Quip after quip gives the feeling of a lively character, but a restrained delivery has us questioning if the character—or the actor—has anything else to offer. The answer is yes and no.

You see, this is no repetitive time-loop movie. Though Guy (and everyone else in his world) sticks firmly to the comfort zone, Guy chases his (apparently unique) intuition that there must be more to life. Mundane but honest banter with his security-guard office-pal (played sweetly by Lil Rel Howery) brings a certain charm to the movie.

And it’s funny, too, in large part because Guy is a stooge. Literally. He is a background character in a video game. As tanks rampage through his city and as his office is robbed he doesn’t blink an eye. This makes about two thirds of the movie a running joke—and one that often pleases. It’s a novel idea, seeing a game from the perspective of a clueless insider, and a good metaphor for our own lives sometimes.

When the jokes don’t cut it anymore, the movie tries to level up by introducing a couple of programmers involved with Guy’s universe. One works for the game’s host company; the other plays the game. Their three paths eventually cross in unexpected, cute, and dangerous ways. And this is where the movie lost me.

The programmers might have feelings for each other; the computer might be sentient; the head of the game company might be evil. Yadda yadda. Not only do parallel, drawn-out storylines fail to keep the movie fun, they refocus it away from truly interesting ideas: Guy, our thinking, feeling protagonist who dared for something greater in his life, was in true human fashion being used all along as a tool to tell a less interesting human story.

Watch Free Guy and you might find Easter eggs about intelligence, or love, or evolution. That can be nice. But those tidbits don’t make up for the logic errors in this movie’s programming.

The Get Lost Losers

Your family is trash.

This is just one of many colorful songs written and performed by The Get Lost Losers. To name others would risk spoiling their bite; each—like the movie itself—is acerbic and hilarious, and must be experienced. What we have here is a pitch-perfect mockumentary. 

We begin by meeting the band several years into its rock and roll lifetime—at a time when most of the members are, quite frankly, tired of rock and roll. Our permanently-scowling bassist, Orly, can’t hide her disgust at how uneventful this has all been. She’s about ready to pounce on other work. And our drummer, Christophe, smartly written as the opposite of that wild, unintelligent-drummer stereotype, introduces himself by sharing his love for his 401k and catered office lunches.

This is funny stuff, and the moviemakers know it. From jokes and characters to the story arc itself, they use (and twist) band stereotypes to wonderful effect.

Art is precarious, but the tension here is next-level thanks to Sereno. He’s the arrogant, insufferable front man who seems to think that rock and roll requires it of him. That most everyone in the Los Angeles music scene hates him actually fuels his passion . . . until it drives his band members away.

Right before the band showcases its talent to industry executives, it falls apart. Even Anthony, the hilariously docile, verging on air-headed guitarist; even Anthony, the man who can attract girls with his sensitivity just as fast as he can . . . repel them with his sensitivity, has lost his patience for his friend Sereno.

Can Sereno form another band in time? Will any one of the rest succeed without the others?

Maybe you won’t care: This humor isn’t for everyone. It's quite dry, and lands better if you have preconceptions about rock and roll and band dynamics. But if you like it, you’ll really like it; it’s clever and hilarious, close to but never over the top. The band—or what’s left of it—has a new fan in me.

Drunk Bus

How do you feel when things don’t go as planned? Do you get frustrated, or down? Do you giggle and shrug it off? 

Our reactions to life are important, and this is what Drunk Bus is all about. Take its open-air screening last night at the Montauk Film Festival, for example.

The showing started a tad late; we had to wait for the sun to set. Gorgeous, elemental, but slow! And when the sky eventually darkened enough to see the projection, the movie wouldn’t play. And when the movie played, no sound came out.

And then the heavens smiled on us and said let there be sound. I was ready to be hurt again! A darkly beautiful, music-driven opening scene drew me and the rest of the crowd in. It was at precisely this point that the director stood up and asked us to stop the movie. We should have been hearing dialogue, but weren't. Did I mention that it rained, too?

Michael, our lead, would’ve sat through all of this with a blank stare, his mind elsewhere. Actually—he wouldn’t have come at all. A late-shift campus shuttlebus driver, he’s stuck to the same routine for years. Since his girlfriend left for New York, he’s been both upset and incapable of changing anything about his life.

The college-coming-of-age tale has been written before, but that takes nothing away from this one. Michael is played convincingly by Charlie Tahan, a young and promising, depressed and muted individual all at once. And then there’s Pineapple.

This punk rock, Samoan Santa is hired as security after Michael loses his latest battle with belligerent passengers. Pineapple is not the answer to all (or really any) of Michael’s issues, but he is something different. Very different. Thanks to Pineapple Tangaroa (the real person), Pineapple (the character) is a confusingly soft and intense presence. His dark sense of humor and worldliness makes it easy to build a bond with Michael—and just about every passenger who jumps on that bus.

Their interactions move the movie, but even bit players like Fuck You Bob (a grumpy passenger) and Michael’s intercom-only boss add levity and depth to the story. The writing here—like the direction, art direction, camerawork, editing, and music—are thoughtful, well-balanced, and dark in the lightest way.  

As expected, Michael and Pineapple go through their ups and downs. Michael’s loop of indecision and unhappiness doesn’t change, but it hurts ever more. The impending return of his ex adds to the discomfort. We begin to wonder whether he will ever make it out of his self-imposed prison, just as we wonder where the heck Pineapple came from.

Before Drunk Bus, my perspective was lacking. After Drunk Bus, I was able to see how a speed bump-filled evening was indeed a fitting host for such a quirky, touching movie. 

Space Jam: A New Legacy

To succeed, don’t do what you want; do what they tell you.

This is what LeBron James—perhaps the greatest basketball player of all time—tells his computer-code-wiz son, Dom. By working hard and pushing computer games aside, he says, one can provide for themself and their whole family.

LeBron may be right. And this is a big problem.

You see, Al G. Rhythm is jealous of it all. The fame, the adoration. As an algorithm for Warner Brothers Studios, his work creating movies has gone unloved and unrewarded. But not anymore.

Al has a plan to finally win over the hearts of humans: He will kidnap LeBron and Dom and challenge them to a game of high-stakes basketball. Oh, and whereas Al’s teammates will be NBA and WNBA superstars, LeBron must pick his crew from the lowliest of the low, some stale old Warner Brothers intellectual property called the Looney Toons.

If you have questions at this point, I have answers. Yes, this movie is ridiculous. Yes, about half of it is as stiff and try-hard as you’re afraid it’s going to be.

In fact, it feels like Warner Brothers rushed through the brainstorming phase and made this movie purely to advertise its previous hits: It constantly ties characters, quotes, and even clips from its more successful movies into this story. Sometimes it works, but most times it doesn’t. It’s uncomfortable and embarrassing to watch a studio stoop this low, just as it’s embarrassing to think that in what was clearly planned as a blockbuster advertisement for itself, it decided to have its own computer—the thing that we’re supposed to believe creates its movie ideas—be evil. (Let’s not even think about the computer knowing that the Looney Toons have overcome impossible odds to win a basketball game before, and that it has decided to attain human validation by beating down a human admired by millions of people.)

So, this movie may be the most expensive, least effective advertisement of all time. But it’s not all bad. LeBron’s conflict with his son Dom is believable, and Dom’s acting is genuinely good. LeBron’s slighty-more-stiff delivery even punches up a few one liners. And the second half of the movie almost redeems the first: It reinvigorates the clever ridiculousness of the Looney Toons of old, toying with our natural instincts and creating laughs for the whole family. 

But that’s not enough. Although light and family-friendly, Space Jam: A New Legacy is a forgettable movie. Though “don’t overthink it” can sometimes be good advice about a movie, this is more a “don’t think it at all” one, which, if you ask me, is not a worthy way to spend your valuable time.

Shiva Baby

Somebody died. Wanna get frisky? 

That’s one of the things Danielle is thinking right now. Others include does my mother think I’m a failure because I’m bisexual and why can’t I get a job in gender business?

These concerns may sound naive or niche, though Shiva Baby is anything but. It is a transgressive, sensitive, and observant work, one that’ll mesmerize you even as you peek through the cringe-shielding hands on your face. 

After meeting Danielle in a most abrupt (compromising?) fashion, we are thrown just as abruptly into a shiva. People, at a house, in mourning. And wow are they alive. 

They’re saying hi, catching up—and asking Danielle questions she can’t answer. Things become increasingly uncomfortable as it becomes clear that she isn’t growing up at the pace or in the way everyone expects. And the schmear on the bagel? Danielle’s ex-girlfriend and current sugar daddy are in attendance.

The editing and direction superbly cramp us in, and together with pitch-perfect writing, acting, and music, connect us with Danielle. Can we just have a minute, please?! Yes, yes, back to the food table for the fifth time, whatever works!

And so, we swim with Danielle through a sea of cloying, judgmental people, watching her young mind fire neurons in all sorts of directions. And so, this movie is a moving, impressive work of art. 

America: The Motion Picture

Lest you forget that the Declaration of Independence was written over a game of beer pong, or that Washington and Lincoln were totes besties . . . behold, America: The Motion Picture.

It throws whatever you know about American history into a blender, and pours out a raunchy, pun-filled adventure. Namely, some of America’s biggest names form a supergroup to, well, form the nation.

It’s mostly outrageous, and often hilarious. Take Sam Adams. He’s just a beer-chugging college bro, with blind dedication that’s somehow endearing—and racist giggles that’re telling. The writing respects people’s contributions while acknowledging their (grievous) faults. But what’s it all for?

Washington is our main character, and his inner journey leads him to realize that what makes America great is its openness. But in a whiplash moment even for such a wacky story, the movie ends with Americans fighting because of their differences, and Washington losing hope.

This is disappointing. If the moviemakers wanted to make a ridiculous, fun movie, they could’ve done so. But they brought in philosophy, and only did half the work.

Free thinking is not just a luxury, it is a responsibility to approach other ideas with patience and charity—especially if you disagree. The moviemakers seem smart enough to understand this, so the next time they make a movie about their country burning down, they’d do better than to simply draw a caricature from across the street, point, and laugh.

I'll Never Forget My High School Friends

Some people grow up faster than others. Ryan doesn’t seem to think about this when he hands his friends cameras to document the end of high school.

Not everyone likes the idea, but they oblige their nerdy, aspiring director. Unfortunately (for all of us), naiveté, intergroup romance, and jealousy get in the way. Very not lit.

There is promise in the moviemaking here, but the story does not hit home. More than one character vanishes from the plot without adequate explanation. And though we are watching people spend their last moments together, we haven’t learned enough about them—or found in them sufficiently worthwhile traits—to care.

The actors are most convincing when they lean into being teens: self-centered, peacocking, and defensive. These portrayals and their writing can be insightful. The direction, editing, music, and coloring show care, too. But the lack of connection with our characters and other blemishes outweigh the good. The sound quality drops in and out, and sustained naturalistic camerawork can be jarring. 

But, because in the casual dialogue and uncomfortable emotions there is some truth, my advice to the moviemakers is to keep putting themselves out there. To quote the All American Rejects once more, “when we live such fragile lives, it’s the best way we survive.”

Wish Dragon

You have three wishes! Go!

Of course Din, our dear, kind-hearted Din, can’t go. What he wants most in this world can’t be granted. 

It has to do with Li Na. She’s gone from the neighborhood and on to richer things. But she still remembers Din and their friendship, right? If there ever was a time for him to find out, it’s now, with the help of a wish-granting dragon from a teapot.

Don’t let the extremely-on-the-nose opening sequence scare you off. What we have here is a wholesome story for the whole family to enjoy, one that highlights the deep joys of human connection. You’ll smile and chuckle plenty—and breathe a sigh of relief when you realize it’s not another story where a dull boy pines for an impossibly perfect girl.

Smooth, soft animation rounds out the feel-good feeling. Though we’ve seen this idea done before, good execution is good execution.

Cruella

In to déjà vu? Then Cruella is for you.

It’s the origin story of a fashion designer, though you need not care about clothes to enjoy: Everything about this outfit is high-end.

From the larger costume and set design down to the quirks of the perfectly acted, perfectly one-dimensional supporting characters, many of its threads are creative and entertaining. How can you not feel for a little girl wronged before she had a chance to do right? And did I mention that the lead acting is fantastic? Cruella and her frenemy boss provide brilliant, brilliantly wicked performances.

The problem is, we’ve seen this all before—and to better effect. A hard-driving, ungrateful superior; the strength of chosen family; revenge and dirty tactics posing as justice. OK, but what have you done for me lately?

Although the movie’s production aspects deserve display at the poshest runways and movie theaters, the goal of its writing seems to be lionizing a deranged selfishness. This is not something our world needs more of, and no amount of glamour should change that.