My 10 Best Movies of 2025

  Looking for coherence and themes in a year's worth of movies can be a fool’s errand. A 10-best list reflects the taste and judgment of the person who prepares it. I offer no grand conclusions in this attempt to remember the movies that defied the trend of disposability and stayed with me.  My list of honorable mentions, by the way, could appear anywhere on my list, but tradition calls for 10, so here's my list:

1. Sinners

Director Ryan Coogler employed an expansive film vocabulary to create one of the year's most boldly exciting movies. Sinners can be viewed as another entry into a growing list of horror movies, but it's also a genre rarity, a movie that makes room for vividly drawn characters introduced during the course of a single day. Set during the oppressive Jim Crow era, the story revolves around twins -- both played by Michael B. Jordan -- who return to the Mississippi Delta in 1932 to open a juke joint. What follows is an impressive look at the blues mixed into a cultural gumbo spiced with production numbers that encompass a dazzling array of Afro-American expression.

2.  One Battle After Another 

Director Paul Thomas Anderson’s loose adaptation of Thomas Pynchon’s Vineland (1990) captures more of the novelist’s feverish absurdity, incendiary humor, and ragtag relevance than I thought possible — particularly after Anderson’s less successful Pynchon adaptation, 2014’s Inherent Vice. Anderson updates Pychon's story to sync with a badly fractured society as he spins out one dizzying scenario after another. Capturing social incoherence isn’t easy, but Anderson comes close with a range of characters led by Leonardo DiCaprio’s Bob Ferguson, a failed rebel now shedding the last vestiges of youth. With fine supporting performances from Sean Penn as a whacked-out colonel and Benicio del Toro as a martial arts instructor and unrepentant hippie. One Battle After Another brims with countercultural chaos.

3. Sentimental Value

Director Joachim Trier sets a father/daughter story against a backdrop that includes theater and film. The choice deepens and complicates the questions the film raises about the relationships it depicts. A terrific Stellan Skarsgard brings weary depth to the role of a filmmaker who wants his actress daughter (Renate Reinsve) to star in the film he hopes will re-ignite his career. Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas masterfully inhabits the role of the director’s other, less embittered daughter. The screenplay, co-written by Trier and Eskil Vogt, allows gifted actors to create characters of uncommon complexity.

4. It Was Just An Accident

Iranian director Jafar Panahi’s latest raises disturbing ethical questions in a story that’s so deeply embedded in ordinary life, nothing feels oversold. A chance incident on a lonely road brings Vahid (Vahid Mobasseri) into contact with Eghbal (Ebrahim Azizi), a man who may have tortured him in prison. Vahid gathers a cohort of additional victims for a score-settling scheme that will be executed if Eghbal’s identity can be confirmed. None of the prisoners ever saw the face of their masked tormentor. Panahi, who has been imprisoned by Iranian authorities, continues to make movies. Like other films in Panahi’s filmography, It Was Just An Accident stands as both a work of art and an expression of courage. 

5. No Other Choice

 

If the films Oldboy, The Handmaiden, and Decision to Leave ring a bell, it’s because you’re familiar with the work of Korean director Park Chan-wook. Wook focuses his latest movie on Man-su (Lee Byung-hun), a manager at a paper mill who begins the film proclaiming he has it all. Of course, Mansu’s overly buoyant observation suggests that an avalanche of misfortune will soon overwhelm him. Shocked to learn that he's been fired, Man-su embarks on an often-humiliating job search that teaches him the folly of regarding himself as an indispensable cog in a churning capitalist wheel. Park turns his movie into a dark comedy about the lengths one man will go to preserve his sense of self, including murder. All this may sound ominous, but I laughed plenty en route to the film’s bitter conclusion.

6. The Secret Agent

Steeped in 70s atmosphere, this thriller from Brazilian director Kleber Mendonca Filho, immerses us in the life of a researcher (Wagner Moura) who’s trying to evade the Brazilian dictatorship. Without amping up the ubiquitous tension of life under an authoritarian regime, Filho shows how the tentacles of the dictatorship extend in all directions. A puzzle composed of colorful, intriguing pieces, The Secret Agent captures the collective madness of a society in which oppression doesn’t exist apart from the cultural chaos it wants to suppress.

7. Sirat

This  compelling film from  Spanish director Oliver Laxe follows a father (Sergi Lopez) and son (Bruno Nunez Arjona) on a Moroccan desert adventure. Lopez’s character hopes to find his daughter, who may have disappeared into the rave culture of wandering bands that roam the country's deserts. Laxe's visceral helping of film includes moments that made me gasp. As soon as the movie finished, I wanted to watch it again to make sure I hadn’t hallucinated this gripping, unforgettable journey.

8. A House of Dynamite 

Tense and chilling, director Kathryn Bigelow’s A House of Dynamite offers a series of different views of the same brief period in which a nuclear missile hurtles toward Chicago. A perfectly cast ensemble of actors, including Rebecca Ferguson, Jared Harris and Idris Elba, rivets attention as Bigelow's characters are put to the most severe of tests. House of Dynamite serves as a sobering reminder of looming threats we mostly avoid considering. The movie leaves us wondering whether preoccupation with the quotidian flow of our daily lives might be the equivalent of burying our heads in the sand.

9. The Plague

Director Charlie Polinger’s The Plague sets its story at a water polo camp where teenage boys establish a culture of camaraderie and cruelty. In tone and texture, The Plague resembles a horror film, but its ability to unsettle stems from its deeply rooted understanding of adolescent boys. Polinger’s imagery adds an unexpected eeriness to a story that focuses on Ben (Everett Blunck), a new arrival in a camp where one of the boys (Kenny Rasmussen) is rejected as having the plague, a concocted story the boys take seriously. Steeped in anxiety, The Plague features a small performance from Joel Edgerton as a water polo coach. Polinger deftly depicts a part of adolescence most men would prefer to forget. 

10. 28 Years Later

Director Danny Boyle and screenwriter Alex Garland follow their 2002 hunk of horror with a movie that easily could have degenerated into another helping of post-apocalyptic terror. Cue the zombies. Instead, Boyle's display of unhinged weirdness stands on its own. Dad (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) takes his son (Alfie Williams) on the boy’s first zombie hunt. The movie's sound design and a score from a group called Young Fathers help permeate the screen with dread. Jodie Comer plays a pivotal role as Williams character's dying mother. Ralph Fiennes provides bizarre flourishes as a character who utters the movie’s sobering motto: Memento mori, remember you must die. Boyle and Garland approach mortality seriously in a movie that speaks in a distinctive, haunting voice.

Honorable mentions: Weapons, The Perfect Neighbor and The Alabama Solution (both documentaries), Friendship, Sorry Baby, and Nouvelle Vague, the latter for reminding me what it felt like to discover the French New Wave as a young moviegoer.

Special Mention:  Left-Handed Girl

 

In a family drama full of twists and hidden agendas, director Shih-Ching Tsou immerses us in the lives of those who struggle to make ends meet in the bustling city of Taipei. The story focuses on a mother (Janel Tsai) who works at a night market and her two daughters (Shih Yuan Ma and Nina Ye). I admire movies that find ways to tell us how life is lived in specific places. As is often the case with such movies, Left-Handed Girl never lets plot overwhelm its characters. Its story feels lived-in.  Shih-Ching bends what could have been a pat ending into something more surprising.

So much for 2025. Happy New Year to all. Feel free to let me know your 2025 favorites.

The woman who shook religion

  Norwegian director Mona Fastvold, who co-wrote The Brutalist with her husband, Brady Corbet, goes all in stylistically on The Testament of Ann Lee, an exploration of the life of the founder of the Shaker movement. 

  A bit of background: Shakerism began in the 1740s in Manchester, England, moving to the US in 1774, where it attracted some 6,000 members at its peak.

  Departing from the Protestant Christianity of its day, Shakers recognized sex as the source of all evil, resulting from animalistic urges released when Adam and Eve copulated in the Garden of Eden. 

   Beyond that, Shakers believed God had a masculine and feminine nature. Jesus manifested God's masculinity. Ann Lee proclaimed herself the manifestation of God's feminine nature. She was the Second Coming.

    I'm no expert on Shaker theology. Much of what I've just said comes from research, but I offer it here by way of introducing a movie that's deeply rooted, as was its main character, in what might be called "radical expression." 

   Although Fastvold's movie covers much of Lee's life,  it can't be viewed as a traditional biopic. Testament bills itself as a musical -- albeit not the kind that leaves you humming on the way out of the theater.

   Fastvold's musical numbers stem from the way Shakers prayed. Public confessions were followed by quaking and shaking, speaking in tongues, and other ecstatic movements that were thought to lead to purity. 

   Choreographer Celia Rowlson-Hall gives the movie's dances a rhythmic, ritualized quality inspired by Shaker worship. Incorporating the influence of Shaker hymns, composer Daniel Blumberg's score occasionally strikes harsh chords that seem intended to shock us out of complacency. 

   I begin by describing the movie's tonal atmosphere, greatly helped by the work of cinematographer William Rexler, because The Testament of Ann Lee speaks in its own voice, and its musical numbers sometimes make it feel like an extended art piece.

   None of that obscures the power of Amanda Seyfried's vigorous, committed performance as Ann Lee. Seyfried embeds Lee's charisma in religious commitment rather than in showy displays of oratory. Seyfried's deeply physical portrayal of a woman who renounced the flesh grounds a portrait that easily could have drifted into an ethereal haze.

   The movie quickly gets some basics across: Ann Lee had been married prior to her revelations about sex. Intimate, arduous scenes of sexual intercourse with her husband (Christopher Abbott) are followed by agonizing scenes of childbirth. 

     Lee lost four children before any of them reached the age of one, a fact some cite as motivation for her advocacy of celibacy. Abbott's James is sympathetic and supportive of Ann's beliefs until he can no longer abide her celibacy -- or his own.   

    Fastvold brings rawness to her early scenes, which have a graphic quality. Blood and sex underscore the carnality of the world that Lee would reject. The movie then assembles bits of Ann Lee's life like pieces of austere Shaker furniture, which -- by the way -- receives no mention until late in the film.

    A prison sentence Lee served in England for her pacifist views provides an opportunity for surrealistic flourishes that underscore the jailhouse visions that cemented Lee's newfound beliefs and her need to propagate them. 

     Mostly, though, Testament remains earthbound, assembling bits of Ann Lee's life like pieces of austere Shaker furniture, which -- by the way -- receives no mention until late in the film. 

    As the story progresses, it becomes less internal, focusing more on the world Lee encounters. New segments are marked by title cards that set up events or establish a mood.

   When Lee leads her followers across the Atlantic, shipboard scenes roil with turbulence, perhaps the equal of the shock of the earlier birth scenes. Her movement would be reborn in the New World -- albeit not without obstacles, including violent attacks by some who saw her as a heretic.

    The story culminates in 1784 with Lee's death at the age of 48, leaving it to us to remember that the 18th century wasn't known for the kind of fierce female leadership embodied in Seyfried's work.

   Now, for some critical cautions. I respected what Fastvold accomplished, but my involvement became increasingly intermittent as the movie wore on. Running voice-over narrations delivered by several of the movie's characters, as well as production designer Sam Bader's period recreations, sometimes made it feel as if the story were taking place in an alternate universe, cinema in a bubble.

    Centering the movie on major events in Lee's life, almost a chapter-and-verse approach, can create a draggy, episodic quality. I wouldn't want to discourage anyone from giving the movie a try, but at times during the film's 136-minute run time, boredom fogged my mind.

     Still, I can't bring myself to harsh rejection. Fastvold and her team are as committed to their approach as Lee was to hers. She makes few concessions to crowd-pleasing even if her movie sometimes feels trapped by the same formality and rigor that defines its best moments.

    

'Marty Supreme' fires at close range

 

     Readers will hear a lot about director Josh Safdie's Marty Supreme, a feverish, energized look at a rising table tennis star (Timothee Chalamet) who adds new dimensions to the idea of abusing people as he relentlessly pursues Ping-Pong glory.

   Yes, that’s right, Ping-Pong.

   Chalamet's Marty Mauser wants to rule the sport of Ping-Pong, which during the 1950s, when the story takes place, was mostly associated with neighborhood rec centers or finished basements in suburbia.  Marty Supreme tries to do for table tennis what boxing did for Raging Bull; i.e., link the sport to a furious expression of character that says something about ... well ... I’m not sure what. 

   Operating at peak form, director Martin Scorsese turned boxer Jake LaMotta's story into a steaming brew of anger, suffering, and redemption. Watching Marty Supreme, I sometimes wondered why I was subjecting myself to its pummeling style. The movie can be funny, but it can also feel punishing.

    I say this because it’s difficult to watch Marty Supreme without wondering whether Safdie's assaultive style isn't competing with the movie's main character. The camera hovers so close to Chalamet’s face, you can practically count the pores in his skin. 

    Closeness, though, isn't the same as revelation, and it's not always easy to digest a movie when a director seems to be firing at point-blank range. Safdie favors close-ups and tight shots. His camera nearly pins his characters to the screen. 

    Fair to say, then, that there are two major performances in Marty Supreme: Safdie’s and Chalamet’s. The makes the movie less a character study than a showy display of acting and directorial bravado.

    If nothing else, Safdie can be bold. His movie includes shocking moments. You'll be talking about a scene in which a bathtub crashes through the floor of a flop-house hotel, and Chalamet's knife-edged intensity cuts through the entire movie. Chalamet's playing a character who improvises on the fly, and he pulls it off.

    Safdie offers Ping-Pong scenes as he charts Marty's desperate attempts to become a world champion and gain US recognition. A climactic match involves an appearance by Koto Endo, a real table tennis player, but Safdie doesn't overdo footage of Marty's matches. Marty's too busy being a jerk away from the Ping-Pong table, and you’ll be justified if you find yourself asking whether the movie is about Ping-Pong at all. 

      Marty isn't the least bit likable; he's the kind of guy who makes a remarkably distasteful wisecrack about the Holocaust and then excuses it because he's Jewish. He's a user who believes he's entitled to his devious ways.

      An oddball supporting adds pungent flavors. Wisely operating at a slower speed, Gwyneth Paltrow plays a fading movie star who sleeps with Marty.  

   Married to the entrepreneurial owner of a pen company (Kevin O'Leary), Paltrow's Kay Stone may be acting out her rage at her husband. Maybe Marty's primal energy and brashness turn her on. Marty wants the pen company to sponsor his effortsm, and his relationship with O'Leary's character becomes increasingly important.

   When we first meet Marty, he's working at a shoe store owned by his uncle (Larry "Ratso" Sloman). Sloman's Uncle Murray wants Marty to manage his store, but Marty won't settle for life as a retail schlub. He wants more. He wants everything. 

     Odessa A'zion plays Rachel, a married woman with whom Marty cheats. Rachel becomes pregnant, but Marty fears attachments will interfere with his single-mindedness. Rachel, by the way, is married to Ira (Emory Cohen), also a jerk -- albeit a less ambitious and talented one than Marty.

    Tyler Okonma (a.k.a., Tyler, the Creator) signs on as a taxi driver, a pal of Marty who helps him work his way through his many jams. 

    Director Abel Ferrara, a director who knows plenty about intensity, has a notable turn as Ezra Mishkin, a sleazy criminal with whom Marty gets crosswise.

     Mostly set in New York City, the movie treats New York as a seedy cauldron where Marty's sickness blisters and boils. 

     Perhaps as relief, the movie also travels to London, Tokyo, Paris, and Cairo as Marty ceaselessly scrambles for money to support his Ping-Pong quest, a search that improbably leads to a lethal episode in New Jersey. Pieces of the story break off in slabs.

      It's possible to view Marty Supreme as a twisted, go-for-broke comedy. Safdie treats Marty's stint as a halftime act for the Harlem Globetrotters as an opportunity to add laughs.

    Bouncing from one thing to another like a Ping-Pong ball slammed against a wall, Marty Supreme is fueled by Marty's frenzy and Safdie's whiplash editing, but a last-minute attempt at redemption struck me as unconvincing -- unless Safdie intended it as a kind of cruel joke in his formula-defiant effort. Whatever was intended, I didn't buy it as a point of rebirth and transformation.

    Safdie (Uncut Gems) is no stranger to frantic levels of intensity. At times, I got caught up in Safdie's relentless pacing, even as I wished the movie would stop to take a breath. Marty Supreme didn't bore me, but Marty's aggression, along with some of the humiliations he experiences, left me with a sour aftertaste. 

   Or to reiterate: Instead of getting under your skin, getting in-your-face may just get on your nerves.*

*For the record: Director Josh Safdie, who co-wrote the screenplay for Marty Supreme with Ronald Bronstein, treated real-life Ping-Pong champion Marty Reisman's life as a springboard for a movie that fictionalizes much of its main character's world and some of the characters who inhabit it. Reisman died 2012 at the age of 82. The movie struck me as more a work of fiction than anything else, which is why I didn't mention any of this in the body of my review, but am adding it as an addendum for those who have read about the movie's connection to a real-life figure.

   

      

‘Sirat’ may leave you shaken

   It's rare that a film leaves me speechless, but that's what happened with Sirat, a movie that struck me with the unsettling power of its immediacy.

 Spanish director Oliver Laxe takes a desert journey through Morocco, immersing his characters and us in a nomadic rave culture that feels unmoored from ordinary life. Laxe's film works on visceral levels that include a moment that made me gasp. I won't describe it here because the surprising horror of what happens needs to be experienced without anticipation.

  It took me a minute to adjust to Sirat, which begins at a desert rave where men are setting up enormous speakers for a crowd that will respond to a steady stream of electronic music. Without offering context, Laxe deposits us in the midst of dancers who seem carried away by an unrelenting beat. 

  Initially, I feared that this opening salvo would persist. Could this be the whole film? Laxe draws out the scene to make sure we understand the environment we're in. 

  Once that's accomplished, he begins telling a story. A father (Sergi Lopez) and his young son (Bruno Nunez Arjona) wend their way through the dancing crowd. Lopez's character is searching for a daughter he suspects has disappeared into this near-nihilistic world.

  When the ravers are dispersed by the military, Lopez's Louis joins a small band that's heading for another rave. Maybe he'll find his daughter there. 

   These ravers (Jade Oukid, Richard Bellamy, Tonin Janvier, Stefania Gadda, and Joshua Liam Henderson) become an impromptu family, overcoming their initial reluctance to accept Louis and his son, who don't fit easily into a renegade vibe. 

  Sirat becomes a road movie that includes tension reminiscent of the great work that Henri Georges Clouzot did in the classic, Wages of Fear. Water, food, and gas take on new importance in a merciless desert environment.

   The group begins to form bonds, but we're caught up in extreme isolation, a sense of loneliness that's exaggerated at night when headlights penetrate the desert darkness. The travelers represent a cultural mix -- European and North African. Their small society becomes a human oasis in the desert. 

    Unlike the others, Lopez is a professional actor. He has the strength and talent to keep the movie from ripping at the seams, but nothing interferes with the feeling of authenticity Laxe creates.

   I won't say more, but as is the case with a movie such as this, Laxe continues to surprise and stun throughout. Sirat is a rare movie, the kind that made me want to find someone to watch it with again to make sure that I hadn't hallucinated this strangely compelling journey.*

*Sirat will open around the country in the coming weeks. Keep an eye out for it in your locale.

Sometimes a little corn helps

 Calling a movie corny usually qualifies as a condemnation. Let's call Song Sung Blue an exception to the rule. Starring Hugh Jackman and Kate Hudson, the mostly buoyant Song Sung Blue tells the story of a Milwaukee couple that finds its calling with a Neil Diamond tribute act.

  And, yes, the movie makes heavy use of Sweet Caroline, a Diamond anthem that fans can't get enough of -- even if the movie's characters think overuse diminishes Diamond's other achievements.

   You'll hear lots Diamond tunes, all packaged with verve and presented by Jackman and Hudson with crowd-pleasing gusto that doesn't tarnish when the movie takes a shockingly dark turn involving Hudson's character.

    Director Craig Brewer (Hustle & Flow, Dolemite is My Name) gets the most out of a pairing in which Jackman, as an alcoholic auto mechanic with musical ambitions, and Hudson, as a single mom and hairdresser who begins her career doing spot-on Patsy Cline impersonations.

    Jackman's Mike and Hudson's Clair soon dub their act Lightning & Thunder, and become local sensations. He's Lightning. She's Thunder.

   At one point, the duo even serves as the opening act for Pearl Jam. Eddie Vedder (John Beckwith), Pearl Jam's frontman, recognizes that Lightning & Thunder can energize crowds with liberating verve.

    It doesn't take long for Mike and Claire to form a family that includes her teenage daughter Rachel (Ella Anderson) and her younger son (Hudson Hensley). Mike's daughter (King Princess) also fits into the family, though with a bit more difficulty, and the two teenage girls form a convincing bond.

    The film has its oddities. Mike's manager  (Fisher Stevens) also happens to be his dentist. Jim Belushi appears as a booking agent who lands Lightning & Thunder jobs at venues that don't exactly qualify as glamorous. Michael Imperioli plays a Buddy Holly impersonator who joins the Lightning & Thunder band.

     In a disarming turn, Shyaporn Theerakulstit portrays  the owner of a Thai restaurant who hires Mike to run karaoke nights when a horrific accident leaves Claire depressed and slipping into a fog induced by painkillers.

     Brewer keeps things humming, skimming through incidents that might have sunk the movie. Rachel's unplanned pregnancy, for example, is dealt with a little too breezily.

      Based on a 2008 documentary by Greg Kohs, the movie feels authentic enough, though, and Brewer isn’t afraid to jerk a few tears. Even if you haven't been yearning to take a plunge into Neil Diamond nostalgia, Hudson’s dynamism and the movie’s high spirits make for a rewarding diversion.

     

     

Can stand-up save this marriage?

 

  Bradley Cooper keeps his camera close to his actors in Is This Thing On?, the story of a New York guy who steadies his life during a separation from his wife. How? He tries his hand at stand-up comedy. 

   Cooper's movie focuses on Alex Novak (Will Arnett), a guy who works in finance. Alex seems dejected by his separation from Tess (Laura Dern), his wife of 20 years, but he's not doing much to buck the tide of marital failure.

  Parents of two 10-year-olds (Calvin Knegten and Blake Kane), the Novaks don't argue or ever seem to fret about money. We're asked to assume that their marriage has gone stale. We're also told that the two 10-year-olds are "Irish twins," siblings born in the same year.

   The breakup goes smoothly enough. Tess and the kids remain in the Novaks' suburban Westchester County home, and Alex finds an apartment in the city. He buys a VW van to transport the kids back and forth.

   A bit at loose ends, Alex discovers stand-up almost by accident. Wandering around his new neighborhood, he spots The Olive Cafe, a club that looks inviting. In the club's basement, comics use open-mic nights to polish  their acts.

   To avoid the club's $15 cover charge, Alex signs up to do a set. On stage, he begins talking about the new phase of his life. He's doing what he thinks a comic might do in his situation.

  Cooper shows a fair amount of Alex's burgeoning act, which centers on his new status as a single guy. He has a few clever lines and learns how to work an audience, but -- in my view, at least -- he's not especially funny. 

   The odd and slightly disturbing thing about Alex's journey doesn’t get much play. What’s Alex’s  public display about? Does he really require a microphone to get on with his life? Is he just another part of our current moment of hear-me excess?

   Alex and Tess have a circle of friends, but Alex develops a new cohort, aspiring comics who are trying to find a breakout moment. 

   Scenes with real comics (Jordan Jensen, Chloe Radcliffe, and Reggie Conquest) add authenticity, as does Amy Sedaris, who plays a showbiz-savvy booker. The movie needed more of her.

   Cooper mostly stays off-screen. A thick bushy beard functions almost as a disguise. He plays Alex's buddy Balls. (Hey, it's in the credits.) An old college pal of Alex's, Balls works as an actor, but his career seems wobbly. 

   Disarmingly credible, Dern's Tess, a former Olympic volleyball champion, tentatively approaches the idea of expanding her horizons. Tess decides to revitalize her routine by becoming a coach. The upcoming Los Angeles Olympics beckon.

   A pivotal scene arrives when Tess goes on an impromptu date -- her escort is played by Peyton Manning -- and winds up at a club where Alex performs a bit in which he reveals that he's had his first sexual encounter since the breakup. 

   Initially miffed, Tess responds to Alex's frankness; it seems to re-light her spark, and Alex begins, as he puts it, "an affair with his ex-wife."

   Is This Thing On? might be Cooper's least momentous directorial effort. His previous work teamed him with Lady Gaga in a remake of A Star is Born, which he followed by playing Leonard Bernstein in Maestro, a look at the emotionally conflicted life of a musical genius.

   Aside from a couple of group gatherings, the  supporting cast remains on the periphery. Andra Day portrays Balls' bitchy wife. Christine Ebersole and Ciaran Hinds appear as Alex's parents. Hinds has a nicely anchored scene with Arnett toward the end, but the movie belongs to Arnett, whose likability   keeps Is This Thing On? from derailing.

    Is This Thing On? was inspired by the true story of English comic John Bishop whose experience resembled Alex's. I guess such knowledge, revealed in interviews with Cooper, shows that Alex's transition to comedy isn't as far-fetched as it might initially seem.

   I wasn’t enthusiastic about Is This Thing On? The  movie is tolerable, but Cooper doesn't find much bite in its two-hour and four-minute runtime -- either in Alex's stand-up or in the movie itself.  

   

Sex, torture, and the hired help

   The Housemaid may not be a great thriller, but it hosts enough plot twists to sustain interest while offering a lush  mixture of sexual and psychological maneuvering.

  Amanda Seyfried and Sydney Sweeney team as a wealthy woman and her housemaid Millie, a woman hired to keep Seyfried's Nina's NewYork manse in shape and care for her bratty young daughter (Indiana Elle). 

  No fair telling more, but Seyfried's Nina may have more in mind than benefiting from some help around the house.

   As for Millie, she’s on parole from a sentence for murder. She needs the job lest she be returned to the slammer.  The more abusive Nina becomes -- and she's very good at it -- the more trapped her live-in housekeeper feels. 

   Brandon Sklenar portrays Andrew, Nina’s hunky, empathetic husband,  a guy who seems to have become rich without breaking a sweat. Andrew, who might have fallen into the movie from a soap opera, stands up for Millie when Nina’s torments reach intolerable levels. 

  Previously homeless and in need of a safe heaven,  Millie falls hard for him. 

   This could be a big year for Seyfried, whose performance in The Testament of Ann Lee, due on Christmas, probably will win her an Oscar nomination. Sweeney was better in Christy, the story of a woman who made boxing history, but her performance in Housemaid hits enough of the right notes.

    Although she doesn't have a big role, a severely coifed Elizabeth Perkins impresses as Andrew’s bitchy mother.

    Based on a novel by Freida McFadden, The Housemaid might be another two hour and 11-minute movie that could have hit harder at an hour-and-a-half. But director Paul Feig (A Simple Favor) knows how to manipulate our sympathies, and Seyfried’s performance adds elevated vigor.

   Some of the movie’s violence and its over-cooked sex scenes earn it a well-deserved "R" rating. A grisly scene involving a tooth adds a talking point that may make you flinch. 

    Inspired trash? Not really, but Housemaid earns additional points for glamor and unabashed guile. 

 

Another 'Avatar' meets expectations

  Avatar: Fire and Ash,  the third movie in the Avatar series which began in 2009, is three hours long, and the version I saw was presented in 3D. That's too many threes as far as I'm concerned. Together, director James Cameron's Avatar series would take nine hours and nine minutes to watch, longer than the average workday.

  Let's be clear: Length in itself isn't a worthy criterion for judging a movie, but when a story becomes this gargantuan, it gives me pause and raises questions about whether its themes and characters merit such treatment.

   OK, enough eye-rolling about length. I leave it to you to answer the question about the depth of Avatar’s themes and whether each additional movie becomes more than a search for ways to extend the series. 

   As Avatar movies go, this one pulls out all the stops, wrapping up loose ends and adding new wrinkles -- all presented with Cameron's signature capacity for extensive, encompassing world-building. That’s another way of saying, the movie holds its own, providing you're a fan. Newbies needn't apply

   The loose ends Avatar: Fire and Ash wraps up can't be revealed here without spoilers, but I can say that the movie provides an overdose of sonic and visual excitement, most of it involving heavy combat.

   Cameron and his team create lots of dazzling imagery to support a variety of plotlines and a couple of villains. Varang (Oona Chaplin) leads the barbaric Ash People, a Na'vi clan that can't quash its savage bloodlust.

   Varang, by the way, sports a spiky red headdress that stands out nicely against her Ashen Mangkwan complexion. The Mangkwan are also called the Ash People, which brings me to another point. Cameron expands his complex universe of characters and ethnicities so much that his movie practically requires an annotated glossary.

   As mean as ever, Colonel Miles Quartich (Stephen Lang) adds more villainy, joining with Varang to defeat the nature-loving Na'vi.  In a Star Wars-like twist, we learn that the Colonel is the father of his human son Spider (Jack Champion), a young man who lives with the  Na'vi. Spider wants to be regarded as one of them, despite genetic differences.

   In another father-son dynamic, Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) argues with his son Lo'ak's (Britain Dalton), a kid who blames himself for his brother's death -- in the previous movie, I think. 

   For a shift, Lo'ak is given narrating chores, a useful aid for those who tend to be overwhelmed by the story's complexities, which include the addition of a trading tribe that ... well ... handles trade.

   Zoe Saldana returns as Neytiri, Jake's wife. She objects when Jake decides that he should acquire guns to fight the human colonialists who loom over a fractious adventure  that puts high-tech savvy and tribal wisdom at odds.

   Cameron stirs in spiritual elements as well. Teenage Kiri (Sigourney Weaver), the adopted daughter of Jake and Neytiri, has a special connection with Eywa, the deity that presides over Pandora, the moon that humans want to inhabit, presuming they can do enough genetic tinkering to breathe Pandora's air.

   Cameron keeps the movie's various plot threads going as he builds toward a finale in which he uses every trick in the book, including a literal cliffhanger. Fire and Ash may not be the last Avatar movie, but it boasts some big, noisy heft.

  All of this happens in service of the need to preserve ecological order by defeating the savage Ash People and the unscrupulous human invaders, who command enough weapons to set off explosions in several galaxies.

    I'd be lying if I told you I was familiar with the entire Avatar lexicon. And my heart sank a little when I learned that Fire and Ash was going to unfold over three hours. At some point, visual pyrotechnics become normalized and wonder evaporates.

    Look, Cameron's abundant and carefully detailed displays of imagination provide sufficient reason to conclude that the director won't cheat his fans.

    For an ongoing series -- more movies evidently are planned -- that's saying something, three-plus hours worth of something, but still something.

    

A disappointing 'Ella McCay'

 

 If you have fond memories of Terms of Endearment,  Broadcast News, and Good As It Gets, you've probably been looking forward to a new movie from director James L. Brooks. 

  No slouch as a writer/director, Brooks not only directed the three movies I mentioned, he also played a role in creating the landmark TV comedies, The Mary Tyler Moore Show and Taxi.  Additionally, he's known as a creator and developer of The Simpsons.

 Ella McCay is Brooks's first movie since 2010's How Do You Know, which wasn't greeted with much enthusiasm. Still, as an admirer of Brooks's ability to create memorable characters in movies that hit plenty of strong notes, I was hoping for a bullseye.

  Aside from enjoying the always-welcome presence of Albert Brooks -- this time as a governor who resigns his position to take a job as Secretary of the Interior -- I spent much of Ella McCay fighting off disappointment. I expected a movie that spoke to the moment, and found one that seemed to have been taken from the day-old cinematic shelf.  

   Set in 2008, the movie gives a major role to Emma Mackey (Netflix's Sex Education). Mackey plays the title character, an amped-up policy wonk. As  a 34-year-old lieutenant governor, Ella lands the governor's job when Brooks' s character departs for Washington. 

   If you're looking for intermittent displays of charm, Mackey's performance may hit the spot, but the character she's playing didn't strike me as intriguing  enough to carry the film past Ella's commitment to   political pablum: She wants to help mothers and children.

   Perhaps to add some conflict, Brooks adds wrinkles involving a misuse of government property and the brewing jealousy of Ella's increasingly bitter husband (Jack Lowden). The owner of a pizza restaurant, Lowden's Ryan begins to resent his wife's success.

  A promising supporting cast can't put much spring into Ella McCay's step, either. Jamie Lee Curtis signs on as Ella's no-nonsense aunt, the woman who raised her. Woody Harrelson portrays Ella's philandering father, and Kumail Nanjiani plays Trooper Nash, the state cop who becomes Ella's loyal driver.

   Spike Fearn appears as Ella's brother Casey, a computer genius who's trying to win back the woman (Ayo Edebiri) he didn't know how to court. Brooks resolves the relationship a little too easily.

    Despite a variety of complications, the comedy often flatlines. We never learn what state Ella is governing, and her work as governor often plays second fiddle to her personal issues: coaxing her nerdy brother out of isolation, visiting her aunt, or dealing with her husband.

     No more need be said: My heart sank for Brooks, now 85, and for myself; I was hoping that Ella McCay would serve as a sparkling addendum to a strong career. What I got instead was what an admired editor I knew used to say when confronted with something he found wanting: "a tepid potato."

A different kind of “Secret Agent”

 

  If you title a film The Secret Agent, you shouldn’t be surprised if audiences are primed for a thriller that thrives on pulsating tension. Setting his story against the holiday backdrop of Carnival, Brazilian director Kleber Mendonca Filho takes a different, more immersive approach.

  Filho's Secret Agent drips with 1977 atmosphere, replicating the loosey-goosey quality of life in the 70s. Various elements collide or coexist -- music, politics, and movies. In this case, though, the abundant cruelty of Brazil's dictatorship, then at its height, taints everything.

   Early on, we meet Wagner Moura’s Marcelo, who's driving to his hometown of Recife in northeastern Brazil. When he stops for gas, Marcelo notices a cardboard-covered corpse lying several feet from the gas pumps.  Ignored by local authorities, the corpse suggests that murder has lost some of its shock value.

       Although on the run, Marcelo wants to reunite with his eight-year-old son (Enzo Nunez). The boy lives in Recife with Marcelo's father-in-law (Carlos Francisco). As is often the case with important information in Secret Agent, Filho takes his time revealing what happened to the boy's mom.

     Instead, we learn that the boy has become obsessed with Jaws, the popular movie of the moment. Too scary for kids, Dad thinks. The irony can't be missed: Dangers posed by Brazil’s military dictatorship far exceed any shark threats.

   In Recife, Marcelo -- an assumed name adopted for self-protection -- takes up residence with an ad hoc community of similarly endangered folks. They live in apartments owned by a savvy 77-year-old woman (Tania Maria) who arranges a job for Marcelo. He’ll work at an identification office, unusual employment for a fugitive, but Marcelo wants to find his late mother's records. His family story remains incomplete.

   The tentacles of the dictatorship extend in all directions. Various contract killers stalk Marcelo, who protested when the research effort he led at a university had its funding cancelled. Marcelo’s wife (Alice Carvalho) vigorously condemned the official who pulled the funding. 

    Marcelo has told his son that Mom died of pneumonia. Could her death have been another assassination?

   Throughout, Filho uses a present-day investigation to add perspective to the main story. Two researchers transcribe old tapes that provide glimpses into Marcelo's story. The keen interest of one of them (Laura Lufesi) sets up the film’s moving finale. 

   Although the film can feel scattered, the pieces are colorful and intriguing, and Filho eventually pulls them together. In what initially looks like an aside, the late Udo Kier appears as a Jewish immigrant who fled the Holocaust. In a display of stupidity and insensitivity, Brazilian thugs keep referring to Kier's character as German.

   The film's atmosphere is heated -- both in terms of temperature and mood. One of the story's threads involves a limb cut from the belly of a shark. The rotting leg creates a tabloid frenzy; the papers write about a “Hairy Leg’’ killer, thus reinforcing an urban myth. The so-called killer seems to have a special interest in gay men, suggesting a ruse used to cover murders by police.

    Bubbling with colorful detail, flashes of dread, and suggestions of collective madness. Filho’s film brims with flavors of ‘70s Brazil: spicy, hot, familiar, yet dangerous.

    Stay with it, and you may experience a growing sense of outrage nestled amid a story that becomes all the more powerful by insisting that oppression doesn't exist apart from the cultural chaos it so desperately tries to conquer.