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Amused to Death

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Digger

by George Wolf

Don’t listen to me about Digger.

Don’t listen to anyone about Digger. I’d say the odds are 50/50 that you’ll love it or hate it. But if you appreciate a positive ratio of sheer ideas per moviegoing minute, you’ll be hard pressed to beat the latest opus from Oscar-winning Mexican auteur Alejandro G. Iñárritu.

Speaking of awards, get used to seeing Tom Cruise in the upcoming nomination lists, and he most definitely earns the acclaim. Call it tour de force, over the top or whatever, but he absolutely commands the screen and this satirical epic as Digger Rockwell, a my-way-or-the-highway oil tycoon whose company has caused an environmental disaster that threatens life as we know it.

Can Digger dig us all out? And can director/co-writer Iñárritu climb out of the narrative hole he digs in the early going?

For my money, yes.

His impressive resume (including The Revenant, Birdman, Bardo, and Babel) is stacked with impeccable craftmansmanship, ambitious framing, boundary pushing visuals and increasing self-indulgence. You’ll find it all in Digger, and per usual, subtlety is not in the toolbox.

If you thought Don’t Look Up was too direct, buckle up. This message, and this coal black humor, is obvious and repetitive, layered through extreme POVs and garish sets that underscore Digger’s promise of damage control through performative storytelling. And just when the bombast threatens to bring the entire film down, Iñárritu makes a shocking pivot that is sure to make Digger one of the most divisive films in recent memory.

I’m not spoiling it, and shame on anyone that does.

Even with Cruise dominating the film, the incredibly stacked supporting cast carves out a steady stream of interesting and often larger-than-life characters. From John Goodman, Riz Ahmed, Sandra Hüller to Michael Stuhlbarg, Jesse Plemons and even a Burn Gorman sighting, there is excellence evident on nearly every corner of the screen.

And by the way, choose that screen wisely. Iñárritu shot this in VistaVision, so unless you want the pillarbox view, avoid the standard widescreens.

But if you appreciate the movie theater experience, do not avoid Digger. And don’t leave halfway through, even if you’re tempted. You’ve got to see this through — including a few minutes into the credits — before you can really start mulling over what you’ve seen.

Hell, a year from now I may wish I’d given this five stars, or two. But right now, I’m glad it’s given me this much to think about.

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Now Pulp Free!

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Verity

by George Wolf

The most interesting thing about Verity is what a stupefying mess it turns out to be. Anne Hathaway and Dakota Johnson aren’t just stars, but producers as well. And though Michael Showalter might seem a surprising choice to direct an erotic thriller, his resume includes some big wins (The Big Sick, Wet Hot American Summer).

Where did it all go wrong? Pretty much everywhere.

Based on Colleen Hoover’s best seller, the film follows struggling novelist Lowen Ashleigh (Johnson) as she is hired to finish a book series by world renowned writer Verity Crawford (Hathaway). Crawford is incapacitated after a car accident, so her husband Jeremy (Josh Hartnett) invites Lowen to stay in their Vermont mansion, pour over Verity’s notes and deliver three much-anticipated books.

But Lowen finds more than notes. She finds a flash drive holding a secret manuscript that appears to be an autobiography where Verity makes some earth-shattering confessions.

Cue the thunder claps and lightning strikes, and hold any trace of a winking nod to how ridiculous this all is. Hoover’s story (adapted by Nick Antosca) seems heavily borrowed from a couple more well-plotted novels, and Showalter’s humorless tone never leans into the pulpy aspects that might have made this a fun, guilty popcorn pleasure.

Sexy moments aren’t sexy. Jump scares aren’t scary. Witty banter isn’t witty, and the three very talented stars just seem confused. That’s a bad combo, one that allows for plenty of time for us to wonder about those breakdowns in internal logic.

But honestly, there isn’t much concern with any one thinking too much. An over-reliance on voiceover narration drains the shock value from big reveals, and ends up negating those seeds of doubt the film seems to think it is planting.

This type of Neo-noir blurring of truth and fiction has resulted in some twisty fun in the theaters over the last several years. But what might have been a self-aware ride on the order of A Simple Favor or The Woman in the Window barely rises to the level of Hathaway’s own curious dud Serenity.

Too much talent, not enough pulp. Sad to say, that’s Verity.

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Discontent

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The Last First: Winter K2

by George Wolf

“Whoever climbs K2 in the winter will claim the last great prize in mountaineering.”

In 2021, that mission became a deadly competition. Businesses were reeling from COVID restrictions, social media likes became a new form of currency, and an unexpected crowd gathered to earn that last first: summiting the world’s second-highest peak amid the worst conditions imaginable.

K2 — aka “The Savage Mountain” — had proved too much for all previous winter attempts. But veteran climber John Snorri Sigurjónsson and local Pakistani hero Ali Sadparas thought they could be the first, only to be met with an unexpected crowd thinking the same thing.

There was filmmaker Elia Saikaly, Nepalese legend Nims Purja and his team, extreme athlete Colin O’Brady, Italian climber Tamara Lunger and a commercial group of climbers from Seven Summit Treks. The party atmosphere at base camp deteriorated into a brutal fight for survival, and director Amir Bar-Lev deconstructs the bad decisions with reverence and determination.

The visuals are often breath taking and the quest gets jaw-droppingly tense, which is not uncommon for this type of extreme documentary that we’ve seen over the last several years. What sets Bar-Lev’s approach apart is how he balances the multiple factors lurking behind the tragic deaths of five climbers.

When the over-commercialization of summitting meets an industry struggling to survive the pandemic, social media dopamine addiction and foolish hubris, common sense caution struggles for attention. The contrasts between tourist climbers and seasoned vets, layered into the already tense caste system of the region, creates an added atmosphere of suspicion and finger-pointing once the situation turns dire.

If the time of pioneers is truly gone, The Last First: Winter K2 bids them a stark, unforgettable farewell. At times thrilling, tragic, and exasperating, it is ultimately a sad reminder of how high human folly can climb.

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Yes They Canada

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You Had to Be There

by George Wolf

Don’t pretend you don’t want to hear a homemade recording of a 15 year-old Martin Short singing Frank Sinatra tunes in his bedroom.

You Had to Be There gives you that gem early on, and then rolls out a succession of beautifully human moments that live inside the story of one ridiculously talented 1972 Toronto production of Godspell. More than one thousand people auditioned, and an ever-growing tree of success began to take root.

Not just Short, but Gilda Radner, Eugene Levy, Andrea Martin, Victor Garber, Dave Thomas, Paul Shaffer and more. Household names, plus other veteran performers who have carved out long careers and influenced generations of popular culture. They were all here together for a magical time that “felt like Paris in the ’20s,” and director Nick Davis (with executive producer Judd Apatow) tells their tale with absolute joy and reverence.

There are no videos of the actual shows, but thanks to the always resourceful Short, there is audio from a small cassette recorder stashed on the stage. And some from that same recorder pulled out at cast parties. It’s great stuff, and Davis presents it with some fitting, SNL-style animation that makes sure you can identify each player. So fun, even without the archival footage.

Current interviews with living cast members are presented in front of colorful blank screens, illuminating each personality in a different glow before cutting away to animation or due praise from admirers such as Lin-Manuel Miranda, Janeane Garofalo, Mike Myers and more.

And as the film moves into the closing stages, it becomes undeniably touching. We feel the love these people have for other, and for the wonderful experience they shared. We also see the highs and lows of their respective lives, including Radner’s tragic passing and one cast member admitting — for the first time — about sexual assault she endured on the set of a network TV show.

Then we, and this cast, see something else. And it results in such a warm surprise I’m not going to spoil it. But it’s special. So is the film.

You Had to Be There not only supports the claim that this Godspell production was the ’27 Yankees of comedy, it reminds us to cherish the good friends, good times, and yes, good art that we are blessed enough to experience in our lives.

Curtain call!

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Rocket Ride

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The Stunt Driver

by George Wolf

If you’ve seen the underrated 2011 hockey comedy Goon, you’ll understand why I was stoked for The Stunt Driver. It reunites writer/director Michael Dowse with star Jay Baruchel for another based -on-true-events look at a rough and tumble lug fighting to stand out in the crowd.

Back in the 1970s Ken Carter was known as “The Mad Canadian,” a cross-eyed, bushy-haired high school dropout who made his name through high-flying car stunts. So, when Evel Knievel’s Snake River Canyon jump fizzled out in ’74, Carter hatched a plan to show him up.

He would jump over the St. Lawrence river in a “rocket car,” taking off in Canada and landing a mile away in Ogden Island, New York. In Carter’s view, Evel was “a nerd and a coward,” and the St. Lawrence jump would put the stunt driver glory – don’t call him a “daredevil!” – where it belonged.

As Carter, Baruchel delivers a career-best performance. Stunt driving is all Carter knows and the passion to “leave his mark” is felt throughout the years-long journey toward the jump. When doubt and even fear creeps in, Baruchel makes sure both are just shades of a completely human character we want to succeed.

Much like Goon, the commitment to character drives the film. Dowse surrounds his Mad Canadian with interesting people on all sides. From Carter’s long-suffering wife (Laurence Leboeuf) to his engine designer (Ed Helms), his protege (Marc Beaupré) and his promoter (Dan Bakkedahl), we get a series of fleshed-out personalities to bring a perfectly 70s aesthetic to life.

And when producers on ABC’s Wide Wide of Sports insist on bringing Evel himself (Ben Foster) on as a tech consultant, the relationship between Knievel and Carter instantly becomes a deadpan delight.

Dowse takes inspiration from the 1981 doc The Devil at Your Heels. He juggles different film stocks and aspect ratios throughout the film’s 99 minutes, which makes the use of real jump footage feel seamless, and bolsters the hardscrabble appeal of Carter’s entire persona.

Even when the tonal path starts to wobble in the second act, The Stunt Driver again shows Dowse and Baruchel can find heart, soul and authenticity in the life of a true sports underdog. Maybe Ken never got as famous as Knievel, but it’s a good bit of absurd fun getting to know him.

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Put It Right On Me

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The Weight

by George Wolf

A few desperate men are given the chance to wipe their slates clean. Transport some precious cargo across 100 miles of hazardous terrain —including one very unstable bridge — and they’ll all be free to start new lives.

The Weight will bring to mind Sorcerer and The Wages of Fear, specifically, but on a more general level it recalls a throwback brand of thriller that’s dense with themes of sin and redemption layered through the choices, toil and sweat of conflicted souls.

It’s 1933 in Oregon, and the country is still reeling from the Great Depression. Sam Murphy (Ethan Hawke) is already struggling to provide for his young daughter Penny (Avy Berry) when a brush with the law lands him in a labor camp.

Warden Clancey (Russell Crowe) notices that Murphy is a quiet man who can solve problems, so he presents a tempting offer: move the stash of gold out of Blackhawk mine before FDR confiscates it, and Murphy will be out of jail in time to save his daughter from becoming a ward of the state.

It’s an easy call, so Murphy handpicks a small team, and heads out — under the watchful eyes of two armed chaperones, of course.

Director Padraic McKinley, reuniting with Hawke after The Good Lord Bird series, crafts his big screen debut with detail and vision, adapting the weighty script from Matthew Booi, Shelby Gaines and Leo Scherman into a tense and visually striking adventure. The forests and rivers become daunting obstacles that raise the stakes, while McKinley illuminates an exquisite fight for life via lighting bursts of a thunderstorm.

And of course Hawke is perfect. He’s become such a reliably wonderful actor, and this type of understated inner struggle is his sweet spot, finding an authentic, cautious chemistry with a terrific Crowe and the solid ensemble, including Julia Jones (Dexter: New Blood) as a runaway woman eager to join the mission and not look back.

You may guess a plot turn or two, and a tighter grip in the editing room would have trimmed some bloat from the nearly two-hour runtime, but The Weight still carries plenty of welcome genre heft. It manages to balance familiarity with richness of character and craft, giving us the kind of movie we should be glad to still find in the theater.

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Action Hank

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Runner

by George Wolf

When all the running is done, Runner ends up caught in a movie limbo that is very 2026. If this has gone direct to streaming, it would rate above average among some less than stellar action romps. But among big screen releases, the latest from Angel Studios feels more like a passable but forgettable reach.

And yes, entertaining in its 97 PG-13 minutes.

Alan Ritchson stars as Hank Marlowe, a former military badass who “doesn’t hurt people anymore.” He’s a got a haunted past, a one year sobriety chip and a job in Australia as a “runner” who can deliver important packages such as priceless parakeets to various clients and destinations.

So even though he’s not hankerin’ for some action, action finds Hank when Ben Bishop (Owen Wilson) arrives with a very valuable asset. It’s a human liver meant to save the life of a seven year-old girl, and Ben will be serving as chaperone on Hank’s mission of mercy.

The mission get messy when a cartel kingpin (Rodrigo Santoro) comes calling. Turns out the girl and the liver share a rare blood type with the kingpin’s mother, who has a surgeon on standby waiting to perform her own life saving surgery.

As you might guess, Hank’s vow of non-violence gets thrown out the window alongside plenty of henchmen and bad guys.

Director Scott Waugh – a former stuntman – choreographs some decent actions sequences that cater to Ritchson’s size, physicality and understated charisma. Wilson is on auto pilot as the awkwardly enthusiastic comic relief, with the script from Miles Hubley and Tommy White conjuring moments of good natured rapport among some common action comedy beats.

It’s all a bit familiar and silly, and definitely guilty of too many bland, off- brand needle drops. But Ritchson and Wilson make their mismatch work well enough, and the film finds a groove of goofy fun that actually seems respectful of its audience.

So while Runner might be punching above its weight class, Ritchson is the perfect hero to put up the dukes and blow up some stuff while Wilson is quick with a quip. It ain’t quite art, but it’s not another streaming pile of algorithm, either. And if that’ll do, then enjoy.

Outtakes

What the Hell?

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Boorman and the Devil

by George Wolf

There was a new list floating around social media this week, and it ranked the 25 all-time worst movie sequels. 1977’s Exorcist II: The Heretic was nowhere to be found. That will probably surprise a bunch of people, including some that are part of Boorman and the Devil, a fascinating look behind one of the most infamous productions in film history.

John Boorman was fresh off of an Oscar nomination for Deliverance when he accepted the gig to follow up the phenomenon that was The Exorcist. Looking back, the now 92 year-old Boorman realizes Stanley Kubrick was correct when he warned the only way to follow Friedkin’s classic was to bring even more shock value.

Boorman chose an approach that focused on light over dark. Plus “the Synchronizer,” a tap-dancing Linda Blair and James Earl Jones in a locust getup.

It was a complete disaster. But director David Kittredge’s look back is so captivating, the urge to give The Heretic another look will be strong.

Boorman’s candor about the pain of failure is refreshingly honest, and the way that Kittredge surrounds it with insightful commentary from filmmakers such as Karyn Kusama, Mike Flanagan and Joe Dante creates an engaging filmmaking conversation.

Kittredge also shows some sharp editing skills, weaving in specific moments from the film to create wry commentary on the battles going on behind the scenes. Linda Blair would show up late, Richard Burton would leave early and Oscar-winner Louise Fletcher wound up exasperated.

Plus, there was the battle over the script re-writes, some ballooning budget and production schedules and Boorman’s case of Valley Fever that shut the whole thing down for five weeks.

Was there a Devilish curse at work?

Kittredge makes sure you appreciate all the things Boorman did right, and hear from a few critics who insist The Heretic is more triumph than tragedy. Either way, Boorman and The Devil is an essential and entertaining breakdown of one infamous film, and the devil-in-the-details of the filmmaking process itself.

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On the Road Again and Again and Again

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It Ends

by George Wolf

Just in case Backrooms was too abstract about the anxieties plaguing Gen Z right now, It Ends arrives to hammer the point home more directly. Writer/director Alex Ullom’s feature debut is a well-constructed metaphor for a timely existential dread, with a slam-bang setup fueled by one early kickass jump scare.

Four twenty-something friends pile in a trusty four-door and head out. They’re laughing, talking and trusting their GPS until driver Tyler (Michael Cole) suspects that something doesn’t seem right.

He’s correct.

One wrong turn has trapped them on a never-ending backroad through the woods, where stopping for even a few minutes can be deadly. Don’t worry about the gas gauge, bathroom breaks or starvation, Ullom sees those questions coming. Instead, worry about how Tyler, Day (Akira Jackson), Fisher (Noah Toth) and James (Phinehas Yoon) will try to deconstruct this road trip rubric, and what they’ll learn as the miles add up.

If you’re thinking Exit 8, understandable, but that game offered a finish line that these drivers can only dream of.

They’re fresh out of college, and now they’re just facing an endless road of toil and frustration, managing a few fleeting moments of joy while they hang on to the hope that one day they might find salvation.

What kind of life is that?

Horror movies have always reflected generational fears, and this particular anxiety continues to resonate as an anchor for psychological torment. After that first act blast of terror, Ullom settles into a groove of introspection and gloom, with his four talented actors elevating a script that is a bit light on character development.

The important thing is, we believe these people are friends, and for the most part, their reactions to the situation (and, by extension, what it represents) seem genuine. The road only gets bumpy in act three, when Ullon seems desperate to reach a feature length runtime, spinning his wheels a bit before hitting us with his Rod Serling-esque finale.

It Ends still leaves a well-earned mark. It’s more proof that horror can be trusted to these talented young storytellers, and the future is looking scary good.

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Kitchen Knives Out

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Tony

by George Wolf

Among other things, Tony is another reminder that we’d all be better off if everyone’s first job was in a restaurant. It certainly altered the course of Anthony Bourdain’s life, and director/co-writer Matt Johnson makes the most of focusing his biopic squarely in that one eventful summer of 1975.

“Tony” was 19 then, and by his own admission decades later in the Kitchen Confidential memoir, a narcissistic lout in need of a “good ass kicking.” The story of that BTA wakeup call makes for an entertaining coming-of-age tale full of humor, humanity and one righteous clambake.

Dominic Sessa is exceptional as the young Bourdain, who is so caught up in his future writing genius that he lies to everyone about the huge Vassar fellowship that he didn’t get. Following his crush Nancy (Emila Jones) to Provincetown, Mass., Tony is forced to earn his keep by washing dishes at The Flagship restaurant and sleeping in Chef’s (Antonio Banderas) hammock out back.

And so the education begins. While co-worker Sal (Tuner‘s Leo Woodall) schools him on the local women and party life, Chef’s gentle and patient influence nudges Tony to stop pretending and follow his passions.

Sessa, with his frantic hair and brooding intensity, makes the gradual transition frustrating, relatable and heartfelt. His chemistry with Banderas (in a performance perfectly suited for an Oscar nod) is warm and real, providing the film a reliable anchor that does not disappoint.

Johnson (Blackberry, Nirvana the Band the Show the Movie) has been clear that he came to the project with little knowledge of the Bourdain brand. That helps the film avoid undue reverence, and lets Tony’s future accomplishments hang bittersweetly in the air, an unspoken but understood step in this character arc from lout to legend.

Because in the summer of 1975, Bourdain’s future could have taken many different paths. Though the end was tragic, Tony finds a messy, inspiration joy in the beginning, and in the subtle twists of fate that can change lives forever.