#50. One Battle After Another (2025)

 

 

Watched at: Cineplex Cinemas

 

I hadn't been to a theater since the release of Knives Out - nearly six goddamn years ago - so I knew it was high time that I finally made a return, and I knew I needed to mark that return with something special.

 

Enter one of the grandest, one of the showiest, and one of the most popular movies of the last half-decade. I've heard nothing but great things about One Battle After Another over the past few weeks, and I'm so, so, so glad to say that it lived up to the hype. From start to finish, this is just an uninterrupted flow of movement, mayhem, thrills, laughs, and uncomfortable sexual tension. And no matter how insane or silly it gets (which is obviously the appeal), the political overtones are so palpable and so frustratingly relatable that the whole thing feels not only sincere, but refreshing.

 

I'm a Paul Thomas Anderson fan. As directors go, he'd easily be in my top ten. But I don't often find myself loving a movie of his after just one viewing. It usually takes more time and patience than that. Not here. This one had me from the very start, and I thought it only got better as it went along. It's too early to say that this might be my favourite work of his, but I will tell you that it's already the conversation, which is saying something.

 

Grade: A+

 

P.S. Oh my god, was that car chase awesome. I genuinely felt like I was on a roller coaster for the bulk of it.

 

P.P.S. Sean Penn's walk in this movie is some of the funniest physical acting I've ever seen.

 

#49. Only When I Laugh (1981)

 

 

Murder by Death is one of my all-time favourite movies, and James Coco gives possibly my favourite performance in that film (it's either him or Falk), so I've long been curious to see the Neil Simon adaptation that got Milo Perrier a Best Supporting Actor nomination. And I was ultimately pretty pleased with the result.

 

This is one of those sigh-and-smile movies, the sort of bittersweet comedy-drama that Woody Allen churned out almost annually around this time. And while the presentation's a tad stagey (to the point where you can tell that this was originally a play), the writing is so sharp and compelling that the material works for me. It offers some gentle insight into complicated relationships and human nature, while also throwing out the kinds of clever one-liners and rapid-fire turns of phrase that make you wish you were much quicker on your feet than you actually are.

 

Granted, the genres do sometimes clash with one another (during the big dramatic scene, characters are still speaking in a droll manner, and it seems a little out of place), but there's a palpable insecurity and anxiety to these characters that keeps everything stabilized and believable. I liked spending time with these people, and I liked seeing them interact with one another, even if the subject matter isn't always pretty.

 

As for Coco, he's incredibly warm and funny in the role (to such an extent that the Razzie nomination makes zero sense to me), but this is clearly Marsha Mason's show. And if she's as good in her other Neil Simon movies as she is here, the 0/4 Best Actress shutout she received wasn't deserved.

 

Grade: A-

 

#48. Sinister (2012)

 

 

Back in 2020, Broadbend Choices did a study based on viewer heart rates, and came to the conclusion that Sinister is the single scariest movie ever made. And you know what? I kind of get it.

 

That doesn't mean that it's without its share of issues. The premise is pretty unoriginal (even if the story does take a few interesting turns), the family drama is largely tedious, and my god are those jump scare noises insufferable - whether or not they actually get a reaction, it's such a lame and manipulative tactic. Plus, a lot of the reveals are too silly to be effective.

 

But, man, the lead-ups to those weak payoffs are really strong. This is a movie that knows how to build suspense. And not much is required, either: just Ethan Hawke (who really sells the weight of this stuff) watching creepy Super 8 footage and walking around dark rooms at night. That's all. Does it always lead to something terrifying? Not exactly. But I felt like I could hear my own pulse in the meantime.

 

So, yeah, the result checked out in my case.

 

Grade: B+

 

#47. The Crush (1993)

 

 

I'd like to think that I have a pretty high tolerance for shitty thrillers from the '90s, but even I'm struggling to drum up a defense for this one. Not only is it extremely unoriginal (it's basically just Lolita meets Fatal Attraction, though far less entertaining than either one), not only is the direction clumsy and the writing borderline-inept, not only are the two lead performances generally unconvincing, but it barely even passes as cinematic. Between the cheap quality and the by-the-numbers storyline, everything about The Crush screams "movie of the week" to me.

 

Also, on a more personal note, I'm just not a big fan of this kind of conflict in general. You know, the "some lunatic's trying to ruin my life and everyone else is too stupid and gullible to believe a word I say" conflict. Even at the best of times, it makes me anxious and frustrated in a way that I almost never enjoy watching. So maybe this one didn't stand much of a chance with me in the first place.

 

Like I said, I have a weakness for the trash of this era, so I can't pretend that I was having a truly torturous time or anything. But, having said that, I can't really think of a single reason to recommend it to anyone, either (except perhaps for that brief moment where one character gets socked in the face and flies across the room).

 

Grade: C

 

#46. Walk on the Wild Side (1962)

 

 

And all the coloured girls go: doo, do-doo, do-doo, do-do-doo...

 

The problem with a lot of movies from the early '60s is that they clearly wanted to be seen as daring and dangerous, but they weren't allowed to go all the way yet, so we're left with stories that lean too heavily on vague implications, with lame and generally underbaked results. And that's the case with Walk on the Wild Side: despite all the risque subject matter, it mostly just comes off as bland.

 

It's also overly dramatic, but I didn't mind that aspect as much. I kinda liked the soap opera theatrics and the generally trashy vibe, especially in the opening half hour or so. It's only once Laurence Harvey and Capucine reconnect that the story starts to lose me. The pacing suddenly becomes far more sluggish, and we're never really given much of a reason to care about their relationship in the first place (which isn't helped by the fact that both actors lack charisma, especially compared to Jane Fonda and Barbara Stanwyck), so the drama's even further diluted.

 

Frankly, I think the entire movie should've been about Harvey and Fonda catching trains and bumming rides during the Depression. That would've been far more interesting, and almost certainly more wild.

 

Grade: B-

 

#45. Dracula (1979)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

When a story has been adapted as many times as Dracula has, certain iterations are bound to get lost in the shuffle. And while that's arguably the case here, I really don't think that fate was deserved. This version is every bit as good as anything Universal or Hammer ever made, in my opinion.

 

Granted, I can see why it didn't blow audiences away. The pacing's pretty slow, the washed-out visuals don't exactly pop, and the tone emphasizes romance over scares, which likely disappointed many viewers. But there's something about the elegance of this one that really works for me. Between the characteristically gloomy atmospheres, the dreamlike movements, and the fog-and-cobweb-covered sets, Dracula '79 creates the exact kind of classy-yet-spooky texture that I want from these movies. 

 

It also breaks from the typical structure, which I actually find pretty refreshing (frankly, a lot of adaptations start to lose me a little once Dracula leaves his castle and travels to London). I get that this is by no means the definitive version of the character, but I like that it was daring enough to take a few liberties here and there, and I like that it focused on mood and style over anything else.

 

Grade: A-

 

#44. Forgetting Sarah Marshall (2008)

 

 

At some point in the late 2000s, it seems like we all grew kinda tired of the Judd Apatow formula. Of the improv-heavy dialogue, the overlong runtimes, and the less-than-stellar track record of trying to infuse some forced drama. But while Forgetting Sarah Marshall is arguably guilty on the first two counts, I'd say that it largely succeeds in the genre-mixing department.

 

Probably helps that the movie's as cozy as it is. A lot of that comes down to the genial Hawaiian setting, as well as the remarkable supporting cast (particularly Jonah Hill and Paul Rudd), but I think it's mainly because Jason Segel provides a lot of heart. His script is full of warmth and sincere emotion, and he's a much more likeable lead than most of the funnymen from this time. Plus, the fact that his character is so depressed means that the bulk of the humour is actually pretty reserved - or at least reserved for a raunchy comedy with three separate penis shots.

 

I still have my Apatow-related issues with this movie (some of the romantic stuff isn't super believable, and the obvious ad-libs occasionally to get on my nerves [Bill Hader's gotta be the worst offender here]), but I was otherwise taken by its funny and unusually friendly manner. I would also pay to see that puppet Dracula musical in its entirety.

 

Grade: A-