A scene with actual people just goes on and on.

Blonde – 2.5/5. It's a fascinating little thing. It's not Marilyn Monroe; it doesn't give a shit about facts. It's your grocery store's checkout lane tabloid story of the victimized plaything, designed to ride the line between sympathy and derision. It's a version, one of the many possible Marilyns that might exist in any single member of the public's eye. This version is the car crash. If you can take it as that, maybe there's something here. Ana de Armas does a good Marilyn, but I don't know if the story's good to Marilyn. The movie doesn't give a shit about facts, but how many people are going to bother to look into that? After a point, her body stopped belonging to her, and neither I suppose does her mind. Don't you see? It's a race. If you don't solve your own mystery within your own lifetime, someone else will attempt to solve it for you. Best version wins. 

Are these the kind of people we're going to be hanging out with now?

White Lotus, S2 — 4/5

I think the concept of White Lotus is a bit of a cheat. Yes, some characters cross over into other stories, but it's hard to call the stories "connecting." And if you don't want to call it connecting, then "thematic" is also even a loose term. "Money's effect on sexual relations." Yeah, sure. Maybe. What White Lotus smartly does is break up 4 (5?) different movies into an intercut TV show, and really, for it to be successful, only two of them need to be any good. And two out of the four are great! The Aubrey Plaza-led story is a wonderful story about paranoia and trust and new money and how individuals hold onto power within an equal relationship—and the impact of a little bit of a lie—that could have lived very well as its own stand-alone movie (that would have been one of my favorites of the year). Jennifer Coolidge and Haley Lu Richardson's story is one that shows how easily we allow ourselves to be kidnapped because, it's not that we're too trusting, it's that we're just too kind. We'd hate to offend our kidnappers by accusing them. It's not great enough to stand on its own, but there's value in it. I don't really care to talk about the other stories.

We have to go back.

Willow, Season 1 – 3/5

It was very sloppy! Plots jump forward with no connective tissue, character relations change suddenly. A Luke-Skywalker-in-'Last-Jedi'-esque mystery of 'why is Willow so grumpy now?' just ends up being 'eeey, he's-a cranky now!' But in that laziness, something kind of fun comes out. The show coasts on a sea of charm, with everybody in the main cast very capable rowers. By the end, I can't say it was very good, but I am also excited to keep following these people. It's a fun world; I want to see more of it.

How's the despair?

Banshees of Inisherin — 3.5/5

It's grown in my mind since I watched it nearly a month ago, perhaps because I just love the idea behind it so much (which I will now spoil here): the friend doesn't want to be friends anymore because the other person is dull and as such wasting his time, leaving no room for artistic endeavor, and friendship alone leaves no eternal legacy. And I relate to that!! Be careful of the people you let into your life as they may not desire to leave. All people are potential vampires waiting for an invitation; then sucking the potential out of you with their eternal presence. I unfortunately did not get along so well with the humor throughout. Everyone's good if not great in their role and everything runs like clockwork, but the tone that Martin McDonough weaves throughout feels incorrect, and something that bugs me in most of his movies. It's clearly written as a joke, but it's more sad than funny. And I suppose that's okay and that's where my expectations going in may have warped it and where another viewing may save it. There's something there and I feel I may return to it again someday; an ulcer in my mouth that I'll keep prodding with my tongue. In this way, it's in the same camp as 'Bringing Out The Dead.'

There's an error in me.

Good Luck To You, Leo Grande – 2.5/5

There is a good idea in here, surrounded by an inartistic expression of that idea. It's filmed like a network TV show, it feels like a one room play. And within that, it filled me with anxiety. Are we ever leaving this room? To be fair, the ultimate climax feels earned, and in particular Emma Thompson earns 'brave' as an acting descriptor, but I didn't enjoy the long climb to get there. It's all authenticity, and it needed more creativity. It's TV, it's a play; I want a movie.

Alright, that's enough jabbering.

X – 2.5/5

Fine. The sexiness doesn't feel dangerous except for that one little bit with Jenna Ortega. Everything else is just some blood and titties. 

This is perfectly natural.

Barbarian – 4/5

What fun! A rabbit hole that goes further and further down. The only flaw as I see it is that it introduced a wrinkle in a sexually abusive actor, and chooses catharsis over something more interesting. I can imagine a world where the rabbit hole just kept going down, with monsters at every seemingly innocuous turn. 

Sorrow is God's spade.

The Wonder — 4.5/5

As pretentious as its framing device sets the movie out to be, I loved it. That, coupled with the thaumatrope, are the prime showcases of a movie that is guiding you towards what to think. We look at these people as silly, yet we engage in that same silliness all day every day. We pay millions of dollars to create our fantasies, we fly people from around the globe to appear inside them, we make them put on a fake accent, we cut off the lights and put facts aside. Only ours is better, it's normal, it's less delusional, but not really. It's not just what you believe, but what you want to believe. No one wants to ruin a fantasy that creates joy; or purpose. 

For the poor, it's a fine.

For the rich, it's a fee.

I know there are people who are normal, but I don't know what those people do.

House of Games – 4/5

In Mamet's debut, he lays out his thesis statement for his career: those who have a desire to enter places they're not invited into, will be shown just how unwelcome they are. Stiff acting abounds but it all works towards the movie's aims—if no one's laughing around you, it's because you're the fucking joke. And the only answer to that awakening is violence. 

Nothing but heartache.

Black Adam - 1.5/5

Trash. But if it's the final piece of plastic at the top of Dwayne Johnson's trash empire that sets the whole mountain tumbling, then it's useful trash. Points to Pierce Brosnan, who tried, and to Noah Centineo for bringing charm to a role that had no reason to exist.

The game is trying to guess the overarching theme.

The Menu – 3.5/5

For a while, there's a lovely tone, which I think Nicholas Hoult helps to cement. Obliviousness. Eagerness to participate in your own destruction, because at least you get to be a part of the narrative. Entranced by the story of it all. It loses that tone as it focuses more on Anya Taylor-Joy, and the menu's central thesis gets complicated as it tries to create a movie-sized hero—and a third way out. Tertium non datur. The movie then calls out its own imperfections, which is never clever, just lazy. We yearn to see the rich eaten. Give us our cake.

There is no end.

This Place Rules – 4/5

Andrew Callaghan has this weaponized laziness about him. He's mostly a non-entity outside of his appearance. He doesn't try very hard. His greatest talent is knowing where to be, and knowing that it's enough to just be there. Just show up and they'll let you in. He wraps it all up in an opinion, he points a clear finger, which I appreciate, but I'm not even sure it's needed. It's cameras on the ground at the world dissolves around us. Rich get richer. Poor get poorer. It makes me wonder—do you think the revolution of 1776 was also this embarrassing?