#200. Peggy Sue Got Married (1986)

 

 

Couldn't get into this one, unfortunately. As much as I enjoyed the fantastical premise, the cute setting, and the quirky performances from our two leads (overwhelming lack of chemistry notwithstanding), the movie as a whole just didn't click for me. 

 

I don't know if that's because the script rarely bothers to play around with its time travel concept, or because I couldn't quite grasp the intended tone (I found the comedy pretty weak, and I could never tell how sincere the attempts at sentimentality were), or because the storylines were kinda draggy, or because I'm simply getting tired of boomer nostalgia, but, whatever the reason, I was mostly checked out by the hour mark.

 

The one element that kept me on course, though, was Nic Cage. You can say he's the worst part of this movie, and you certainly wouldn't be wrong to hold that opinion (the dude looks out of place every single time he shows up), but his absurd voice and terrible hair and inexplicable vampire energy made things a lot more fun and endearing for me. If every other element was similarly excessive and silly, I might have come out with a better understanding of why this thing has so many fans.

 

Grade: C+

 

P.S. It feels wrong seeing young Cage share the screen with young Jim Carrey. That's simply too much unbridled crazy for one frame.

 

#199. Train Dreams (2025)

 

 

I think what I like most about Train Dreams is that it knows how to convey the beauty and tactility of its environment. You can practically feel the crunching of the leaves, the chirping of the birds, the breeze in the air, and the chopping of the trees, and it's all captured via breathtaking shots, pristine compositions, and poignant imagery.

 

Sure, a lot of these visuals look like something you'd see in a maudlin commercial for soap or deodorant, and, yeah, they're in service of a simple, meditative story that only occasionally comes to life, but they also help to quietly anchor the themes of loneliness and grief, which makes our protagonist's arc that much more impactful (even if a lot of the structural beats are pretty familiar), and ultimately gives the movie its depth and resonance.

 

Granted, it doesn't always make for especially dynamic viewing, and I'll admit that I found the middle chunk a bit dry and draggy at times (plus, despite Will Patton having the perfect voice for this material, I wasn't always especially crazy about the heavy use of voice-over narration), so it's likely gonna land closer to the bottom of my Best Picture ranking, but the tranquil locations, delicate emotions, and contemplative exchanges still make it a worthy and rewarding watch in my eyes.

Grade: B+

 

#198. Freeway (1996)

 

 

Matthew Bright read "Little Red Riding Hood" and thought to himself, "You know what this needs? Prostitution and pedophilia."

 

In fairness, though, I guess Freeway isn't that tonally out of line compared to a lot of older fairy tales. It just feels that way because it's a million times sleazier and trashier. The writing is edgy and in-your-face in the most '90s way imaginable, the high-contrast cinematography ensures that the subject matter remains disgustingly believable, and the performances are so heightened that the characters might as well be cartoons.

 

It all makes for a pretty fresh and fun take on a classic story, and even if the entertainment levels aren't always as consistent as I'd prefer (I think the movie loses some of its juice one we shift from the highway portion to the courtroom/prison stuff), the interesting range of exploitation subgenres keeps things playfully energetic, while also ensuring that the formulaic structure is at least somewhat upended.

 

More than anything, though, I think Reese Witherspoon is what makes the movie so messily enjoyable. I couldn't get enough of her spirited attitude and exaggerated accent, and I kinda wish we got to see this side of her more often.

 

Grade: B+

 

#197. Frankenstein (2025)

 

I'm starting to worry that Guillermo del Toro might be on something of a Tim Burton trajectory (though not nearly as severe) in that he's continuing to pick projects that feel a bit... obvious? Expected? Like, you hear "Guillermo del Toro's Frankenstein", and the images you picture in your mind aren't far off from the real thing.

 

Fortunately, unlike Burton, del Toro hasn't gotten noticeably lazy yet, so this movie's about as striking, gorgeous, and tangible as anything else he's made (even if the visuals are occasionally marred by dark lighting, unconvincing CGI, and excessively slick digital cinematography). And while he sometimes takes a few bizarre and frustratingly literal liberties with the source material, his perpetual enthusiasm ensures that the tones, textures, and emotions are appropriately operatic.

 

Plus, I love his sense of scale. We can discuss whether the world needed another Frankenstein movie in 2025, but the fact that this version has such a consistent vision, while also being more ambitious and over-the-top than any of the prior adaptations I've seen (even the Branagh one), not only justifies its existence in my eyes, but it gives the experience a certain maximalist conclusivity. Whoever tries to tackle Mary Shelley's story next will have a difficult bar to clear as far as ambition is concerned.

 

Grade: A-

 

#196. Singin' in the Rain (1952)

 

Prior Viewings: 3-4

 

I usually feel a slight sense of trepidation when it comes to tackling the more popular and acclaimed movies, but not so much here. And I think that's because Singin' in the Rain is so pleasant and likeable and beautiful and entertaining that the positives basically speak for themselves.

 

Like, where to start? The gorgeous Technicolor? The catchy songs? The athletic choreography? The breathtaking pastel sets? The funny dialogue? The sharp industry satire? It's all so marvelously composed and effortlessly executed (despite the fact that these numbers are clearly exhausting) that you can't help but smile through the entire thing.

 

And unlike a lot of musicals from the time (or any time), there's not a single dull moment throughout. The title sequence, "Make 'Em Laugh", and "Good Morning" are all rightfully immortalized, but then you've also got the lovely "You Were Meant for Me", the energetic "Moses Supposes", and the show-stopping "Broadway Melody", as well as a fun showbiz plot and a cute romance in between all the winning numbers. It's about as joyous and perfect as Old Hollywood gets.

 

Case in point: the movie has appeared on pretty much every significant film list there is (including a top ten placement from both the American Film Institute and Sight & Sound), and you almost never hear any objections.

 

Grade: A+

 

#195. Hamnet (2025)

 

 

This is the first nominee of 2025 that I didn't quite take to, but it still has enough obvious positives that the nod makes sense to me. Like, even when you put aside the fact that the subject matter and tone fall right in line with what the Academy's always looking for, the meticulous staging is visually appealing, the atmosphere has an eeriness about it (especially in those quiet woodland scenes) that elevates the drama, and the vague approach gives the potentially tired premise some necessary rejuvenation. 

 

And yet, there's something slightly distant and detached about the movie that mostly left me cold. I don't know if that's due to the bland colour palette, the odd structuring, the underbaked character dynamics, the strained performances (Jessie Buckley and Paul Mescal are clearly giving this thing their all, but it gets a bit showy at times), or just the general lack of vitality, but I didn't find the majority of the plot developments all that moving.

 

Fortunately, the third act play started to bring things back around for me. Sure, it's a pretty forced and corny conclusion, but it's also the first time that I felt fully invested in both the story and the characters. Honestly, if the whole movie leaned into that kind of emotional shamelessness, I might've connected with it more, especially with the non-dramatic elements generally being as sturdy and potent as they are. 

 

Grade: B

#194. Bon Voyage! (1962)

 

 

Over the last few weeks, I'd been toying with the idea of watching every single live-action Disney movie (of which there are currently over 300), much in the same way that I'm planning on seeing their entire animated catalogue. But while the latter still seems like a reasonable challenge to me, wading my way through Bon Voyage! has almost single-handedly killed my interest in the former.

 

Like, did this seriously pass as children's entertainment back in the '60s? Was the landscape really so barren for kids at the time that they were willing to endure 130 minutes of empty hijinks and forced family values? 'Cause I truly can't imagine a single person, young or old, watching this movie for the first time today and not being at least somewhat bored. It's aimless, it's tedious, it's overlong, it's full of frustrating conflicts, and it's tepid at best on a comedy level.

 

Granted, the travelogue element is pretty pleasant, and I guess I should give Fred MacMurray credit for trying to liven the material up a bit (even if his performance isn't all that funny or dynamic), but I found nearly everything else to be a chore. And I can't say that it's left me especially eager to get to The Shaggy Dog or The Absent-Minded Professor any time soon.

 

Grade: C