#188. Hollywoodland (2006)

 

 

I'll say this for Hollywoodland: as fictionalized Old Hollywood detective movies from 2006 go, it's certainly better than The Black Dahlia.

 

Granted, that's not saying a whole lot. The latter was almost unwatchable, and the former's still pretty bland. I guess there's some decent atmosphere here and there (even if the saturated cinematography completely kills the immersion), and Affleck and Brody are mostly turning in good performances, but everything else feels uninspired to me, from the hokey genre tropes to the trite stabs at drama.

 

More than anything, though, I think my biggest problem probably comes down to structuring. Like, as much as I can appreciate the attempt to tell two related stories with two different protagonists, this approach results in a mystery that barely scratches the surface of its subject matter from either side. And what we're left with is a pair of underbaked halves instead of a satisfying whole, which ultimately lessens the movie's overall impact.

 

Grade: C+

P.S. Is Ben the first actor to technically play both Batman and Superman in live action?

#187. F1 (2025)

 

 

The surprise Best Picture nominee of the year, F1 probably isn't going to blow too many people away on a story level. It's basically your typical "Older guy plays by his own rules and shows the youngsters how it's done" narrative, with cookie cutter arcs and spelled-out dialogue. But the execution's ultimately strong enough that none of this really impaired my enjoyment all that much.

 

For example, the races are immaculate. They're exciting and suspenseful, and you always know what's going on (possibly to a fault; the announcer exposition felt a little condescending at times). And everything around them is mostly well-plotted and solidly structured, even if a few of the detours don't go anywhere or add a whole lot. Plus, with names like Pitt, Condon, and Bardem in the cast, adjectives like "cool" and "charismatic" are pretty much a given. 

 

So, yes, the movie's formulaic, to the point where Joseph Kosinski essentially just remade Top Gun: Maverick with cars instead of planes. But I'm certainly not immune to a superficial crowd-pleaser, and this one kept me invested and enthralled enough that I can't pretend to have any issue with the nomination.

 

Grade: A-

 

#186. The Birds (1963)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Surely, this script, about birds that suddenly lose their minds and start terrorizing a small town for seemingly no reason, is the silliest one Hitchcock ever attached himself to, right? Like, it's the kind of concept that probably should've led to an all-time disaster (a la Birdemic), or at least been remembered as little more than a bizarre curiosity.

 

But The Birds isn't a bizarre curiosity, and that's because it's in such seasoned and capable hands. Hitch combines mysterious atmospherics, clever set pieces, and that patented mastery of suspense (a good example: his decision to rely on realistic sound design instead of a conventional score) to lend a world of credibility to this premise. And the result is one of the most vicious films of his career.

 

Here's how you know it's a genuine winner, though: even if you were to remove every single bird, you'd still be left with a compelling, cozy (there's a lot of lighthearted rom-com energy here, and I just love that quiet coastal setting), and slightly deranged movie about sexual longing and familial relationships. The character drama is as compelling and effective as the horror elements, which makes the eventual bird attacks feel seamless as far as tone, conflict, and overall consistency go.

 

Now, does it ever actually add up to anything? I'm honestly not sure (though the lack of answers/closure definitely contributes to the eerie effect), but, either way, I enjoyed this rewatch enough to place the movie just outside of its director's top tier.

 

Grade: A

 

P.S. The surviving members of that town should count themselves lucky that geese weren't involved. Take it from a Canadian: those fuckers are ruthless.

 

#185. Monkey Business (1952)

 

 

The Howard Hawks one, not the Marx Brothers one. Though, while I've never seen the latter, I have a sneaking suspicion that the two are pretty similar on a tonal level (which stands to reason, given the title).

 

Monkey Business is something of a throwback to the screwball comedies of a slightly earlier era. It doesn't necessarily reach the same delirious heights as a few other Cary Grant movies, but, between the fountain of youth premise, the two lead performances (especially Ginger Rogers, who's really going all out here), and Hawks's snappy direction, it mostly compensates with similar amounts of buoyancy and energy.

 

It's also got some of that characteristic Old Hollywood charm that you can't help but smile at, from the the director saying "Not yet, Cary" when Grant opens the front door prematurely (I'm not always big on fourth wall jokes, but that one was cute and creative enough to tickle me), to the adorable and surprisingly elaborate chimp antics, to seeing our dignified actors behave like juveniles. Sure, the whole thing's pretty rudimentary, and not exactly clever or consistent, but it's also affable, amusing, and animated enough that I can agree with its "minor classic" status. 

 

Grade: A-

#184. Instant Family (2018)

 

 

Every once in a while, you're just in the mood for something nice and sweet, y'know?

 

I won't act like Instant Family doesn't have its share of problems. The first act is somewhat rocky, the characters' decisions and reactions aren't always super believable (especially in the support group scenes, where I feel like I'm watching aliens pretend to be human), and the muddy colour grading is a bit of a tonal buzzkill. But I suppose the mood is otherwise endearing and heartwarming enough that these issues mostly melt away by the time the story takes off.

 

And what a pleasant little story. You can't help but grow to love this group, partially because the cast has so much charisma and chemistry, and partially because the script balances its tones in such a fresh way (for instance, I found many of the jokes genuinely funny, and not in the meek and bittersweet way that you tend to get in this genre). And even if the movie rarely gets as deep or authentic as it would probably prefer, the fact that it cares so much is usually enough to make it resonate.

 

Plus, it's all in service of an actual cause, so there's an additional layer of sincerity and emotional impact here.

 

Grade: B+

 

#183. The Secret Agent (2025)

 

 

The main talking point with this one seems to be its length/pacing/sluggishness. I'll admit that two hours and forty minutes is a trying amount of time to spend on a movie that only intermittently springs to life, especially when much of the meandering feels so shapeless (though the kinetic camerawork, snappy editing, and lively performances help to keep the energy up), but I think I otherwise liked the slow burn. It gave the setting some immersion, the thrills some tension, and the structure a chance to unfold in bizarre and unexpected ways, especially in the third act.

 

There's also a good balance of personal drama and paranoid thriller here (with some cartoonish surrealism thrown in for good measure), which usually kept me invested in the conflicts and characters, gripped by the plot developments, and on edge whenever we did get some action. So even if I don't think the overall movie's quite as consistent or memorable as the two other Best Picture contenders I've watched thus far, the positives regarding scale, rhythm, tone, and political commentary (the bulk of which probably went right over my head) still make it entirely deserving of the nomination in my opinion.

 

Grade: A-

 

#182. Deep Blue Sea (1999)

 

 

I have a soft spot for late '90s studio schlock, as well as simplistic horror movies where a small group of characters fight to survive in an isolated setting. This one manages to hit both of those weak points, and has a good time doing it, so I can only dock so many points for stupid writing and terrible effects.

 

Actually, if anything, those two qualities only serve to enhance the charm. This isn't a Sharknado situation, where the entire project reeks of laziness and cynicism. No, Deep Blue Sea cares, and plays everything completely straight (with just the right amount of self-awareness), which makes the cornier elements a million times more likeable and fun as a result.

 

Plus, while this earnestness often takes us in some strange directions (the whole religious subplot, for instance, goes over really weird), it also allows for some effective genre scares, creative violence, cheesy dialogue, committed performances, surprisingly decent action set pieces, and LL Cool J's absolute masterpiece of a theme song. The whole thing's a junk heap, but it's a determined and entertaining junk heap.

 

And regardless of where you stand on the movie's quality, I think we can agree that Sam Jackson's big speech is a legitimate top hundred horror moment.

 

Grade: B+