Sketch: Colorfully imaginative

Sketch (2024) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG, for scary fantasy action and kid-level rude humor

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

Family-friendly films that persuasively deal with childhood grief are rare, and writer/director Seth Worley takes a cheekily original approach with this enjoyable little indie. His touch is Spielberg lite.

 

Amber (Bianca Belle, left), her brother Jack (Kue Lawrence, center) and tag-along frenemy
Bowman (Kalon Cox) are horrified to discover that they're being stalked by the enormous
"Blind One," one of many creatures brought to life from Amber's imagination.

Ten-year-old Amber Wyatt (Bianca Belle), artistic by nature, is deeply unhappy. She’s unable to process the unexpected death of her mother, Ally, and succumbs to dark thoughts that manifest in violent scrawled drawings. They’re dominated by monsters, blood and imagined revenge for other things that bother her ... such as unwanted attention from school mate Bowman Lynch (Kalon Cox).

Amber isn’t quite a brat, but she’s willful, sullen, disrespectful and difficult to handle.

 

Her 12-year-old brother Jack (Kue Lawrence) and their father, Taylor (Tony Hale), are stoic on the subject ... primarily because the latter has removed all traces of Ally from the house, which he also intends to sell as quickly as possible. Their refusal to face the loss is perhaps even less healthy, but Taylor is stuck; up to this point, Jack has quietly followed his lead.

 

Worley takes his time with this first act, establishing the daily school bus dynamics between these three children and several others, and the easily exasperated driver, Miss Thompson (Randa Newman). Taylor has put his Realtor sister Liz (D’Arcy Carden) in charge of selling the house; she cautions him every day to be absent when prospective buyers are expected, but — in a cute running gag — something always forces him to interrupt, much to Liz’s eye-rolling vexation.

 

Liz gets it, though; at one telling moment, she asks if Taylor truly wants to sell the house.

 

He briefly hesitates, prompting her to say, “You paused” (a line we’ll hear again).

 

When some of Amber’s drawings come to the attention of school counselor Dr. Land (Nadia Benavides, marvelous in this brief role), the girl is surprised by the result. Instead of a lecture, she’s given a fresh notebook, as Dr. Land points out that it’s better to put the darkness on paper, rather than leaving it bottled up inside, where it could fester and prompt harmful, real-life behavior.

 

She begins to fill the notebook pages with renewed enthusiasm, and eventually — at a crucial bonding moment — allows her father to see what she has drawn. This is a wonderful scene, with the two of them seated in the family car, particularly when Taylor is given the opportunity to prove how much his loves his daughter. Hale and Belle are note-perfect.

 

Meanwhile ... while exploring the nearby woods, texting and not paying attention to his surroundings, Jack stumbles, crashes down a slope, and stops at the edge of a large pond. His hand is badly cut; his phone falls into the water. When fished out, the screen is cracked.

 

The following morning, Jack is surprised to see that his hand is fully healed, the phone good as new. Further experimentation reveals that the pond has the ability to make things whole.

French Lover: An affair to forget

French Lover (2025) • View trailer

Two stars (out of five). Rated TV-MA, for sexual candor, mild nudity and profanity

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

Although numerous sources have called this romantic dramedy a French, gender-reversed response to 1999’s Notting Hill, the comparison is superficial at best.

 

Despite the fact that ABel (Omar Sy) repeatedly behaves badly, like a spoiled child, he
always apologizes ... and Marion (Sara Giraudeau) always forgives him. Too many times...

Hugh Grant’s “regular bloke” in that earlier film is a successful bookstore owner, with a solid gaggle of supportive friends; he also has his act together. Sara Giraudeau’s Marion, in director Lisa-Nina Rives’ new film, has neither a job nor savings, is in the midst of messily divorcing her loutish husband Antoine (Amaury de Crayencour), and is an emotional wreck. Her only companion is an adored Great Dane named Claudine.

Even so, Marion’s vulnerability is endearing, and Giraudeau plays her 

well; she’d have been a great character in a different film.

 

Getting back to Notting Hill, Julia Roberts’ famed Hollywood actress is a nice person ... whereas this story’s similarly celebrated Abel Camara (Omar Sy) is an arrogant, self-centered horse’s ass who expects everything, including female companions, to be handed to him on a silver platter.

 

Sy, who has charisma to burn, can’t make this jerk appealing. Not even at his better moments.

 

As a result, this story — scripted by Noémie Saglio and Hugo Gélin, loosely inspired by the Israeli TV series A Very Important Person — never successfully sells its relationship of unequals. Sy and Giraudeau give it their best, and Rives’ film has some charming moments ... but accepting the telegraphed inevitability of where this will conclude, is a major eye-roller.

 

The story opens with a terrific tracking montage, as Abel swans his way through a TV commercial shoot for a perfume dubbed French Lover; once in the can, he angrily stalks off, believing himself “above” doing such twaddle. He lands in a bistro where Marion works as a waitress; after taking his order, she responds to a text on her phone, at which point Abel narcissistically accuses her of filming him, in order to post on social media.

 

The resulting brouhaha costs Marion her job, and she stalks off in a huff. Suddenly contrite, full of apologies, Abel slowly paces her while in his car, insisting — at the very least — on being allowed to drive her home.

 

It’s important to note that although Abel behaves as if his contrition is sincere, he never clarifies why he’s apologizing ... meaning, he never acknowledges his conceited assumption.

Eleanor the Great: Indeed she is

Eleanor the Great (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity and mild profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

Obligatory confession: June Squibb can do no wrong.

 

I’m sure she’d somehow make grocery shopping a fascinating experience.

 

Now fast friends, Nina (Erin Kellyman) surprises Eleanor (June Squibb) with a nostalgic
stroll to see what remains of the golden age of Brooklyn's famed Coney Island.

Ever since her Oscar-nominated supporting turn in 2013’s Nebraska, she has moved from one memorably delightful role to another, and this one’s no exception.

But although Tory Kamen’s screenplay has plenty of lighter moments — with occasionally snarky one-liners well delivered by Squibb — the story itself is deeply poignant. Events unfold under the accomplished guidance of Scarlett Johansson, making an impressively sensitive feature directing debut.

 

The moral quandary here revolves around a crucial question: If a truth isn’t somebody else’s to tell, is it nonetheless a truth that should be revealed?

 

Eleanor (Squibb) and Bessie (Rita Zohar) share an apartment in a Florida retirement community. The story begins as they waken on an average morning, have breakfast, and then embark on another day. They have the comfortable — if mildly grumpy — camaraderie that bespeaks decades of friendship. Their lives are simple but enjoyably routine: greeting familiar faces, sparring with clerks and shopkeepers at nearby stores.

 

(Eleanor’s handling of a young stock boy, at their grocery store, is priceless.)

 

Then, suddenly, Bessie is gone.

 

Cast adrift and totally bereft, Eleanor — having lived in the Bronx for 40 years, back in the day — allows herself to be relocated to New York City, where she moves into an apartment with her daughter Lisa (Jessica Hecht) and grandson Max (Will Price). Lisa is overly attentive, which frustrates Eleanor, long accustomed to taking care of herself. Although Max obviously loves and admires his grandmother, he’s too occupied with his own “stuff” to pay her much attention.

 

Believing it necessary to keep Eleanor engaged, Lisa enrolls her into a singing class at the local Jewish community center. Eleanor pokes her head in the doorway just long enough to hear a woman warble several stanzas of Stephen Sondheim’s “I’m Still Here” (a bit on the nose, that), and bolts.

 

She’s “rescued” by another woman, who invites Eleanor to join her where a dozen or so similarly elderly men and women are seated in a circle. What Eleanor assumes is some sort of friendship meeting turns out to be a regular gathering of Holocaust survivors, who ease their ongoing torment by sharing their experiences with each other.

 

Embarrassed by being somewhere she doesn’t belong, when it comes Eleanor’s turn to talk, she hesitates ... and then relates what she must have heard hundreds of times from her departed friend Bessie, plagued by horrific memories in the middle of countless sleepless nights.

 

And claims these memories as her own.

Swiped: Bad behavior in the tech industry

Swiped (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated TV-MA, for profanity, nude images and deplorable behavior

Available via: Hulu

By Derrick Bang

The recent wave of tech-oriented origin sagas — 2023’s Blackberry and Tetris, and their ancestors, 2015’s Steve Jobs and 2010’s The Social Network — share an obvious characteristic: They’re all about young white guys, often working in a gender-hostile environment far closer to a frat house than a business office.

 

Having arrived as Texas' Southern Methodist University with the goal of getting sorority
and franternity gals and guys to sign up for their new dating app, Whitney (Lily James,
right) and Tisha (Myha'la) wonder where to start.

On top of which, the innovators often are arrogant, socially inept sociopaths: particularly true of Jesse Eisenberg’s handling of Mark Zuckerberg, in The Social Network ... a characterization that obviously was dead-on, given the actual Zuckerberg’s subsequent loathsome behavior.

All of which makes director Rachel Lee Goldenberg’s Swiped a breath of fresh air, since it giddily traces the rise, fall and rebirth of Whitney Wolfe Herd, who at the age of 31 became the youngest woman to take a company public, and also the youngest self-made billionaire.

 

(Clever title, just in passing.)

 

While fresh-out-of-college Whitney Wolfe obviously had some character shortcomings — chiefly naïvete and an overly trusting nature — she was then, and remains now, a rigorously honorable individual who has made a career of Doing The Right Thing, particularly on behalf of women.

 

Lily James’ performance gives Wolfe just the right blend of intelligence, breathless enthusiasm, sharp entrepreneurial impulses and an impressive ability to think outside the box.

 

Along with an unfortunate level of vulnerability, and a lamentable willingness to think the best of somebody, long past the point where self-preservation instincts should have kicked in.

 

But that comes a bit later. Goldenberg’s script, —co-written with Bill Parker and Kim Caramele — begins in 2012, as 22-year-old Wolfe tries to hustle her way into a sponsorship during a gathering of tech entrepreneurs and investors. She catches the attention of Sean Rad (Ben Schnetzer), one of several innovators brainstorming concepts in the Hatch Labs “incubator.”

 

Impressed by Wolfe’s enthusiasm and innovative suggestions, Rad puts her on his Cardify start-up. That’s just one of many potential projects in the Hatch Labs sandbox, and her attention soon turns to an embryonic dating app thus far known as MatchBox: a name that Rad dislikes. Given that existing dating apps are made for — and mostly used by — fortysomethings or older, Rad wants a catchy name for an alternative aimed at twentysomethings.

 

During a tempestuous meeting that typifies the mosh pit, dog-eat-dog behavior of her primarily male colleagues, Wolfe suggests Tinder. Delighted by this, Rad makes her the app’s vice president of marketing.

 

The additional all-important innovation comes from JB (Ian Colletti), who cleverly demonstrates what will become “the swipe.”

Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale — Going out in style

Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale (2025) • View trailer

4.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG, for no particular reason

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.21.25

Trust Julian Fellowes to strike gold again.

 

The creator and primary writer behind Downton Abbey has overseen an impressive and always engaging run since the television serial debuted back in September 2010. Six series — encompassing 52 episodes — and three big-screen films later, Fellowes has lost none of his narrative magic.

 

The Downton clan — from left, Lady Edith (Laura Carmichael), Lord Grandtham (Hugh
Bonneville), Lady Mary (Michelle Dockery), Tom Branson (Allen Leech), Cora Grantham
(Elizabeth McGovern) and Bertie Hexham (Harry Hadden-Paton) — pause during
dinner, to ponder some uncomfortable decisions.

This (truly?) final installment brings everybody back to their beloved Yorkshire country estate, along with sequences set in traditionally British high spots such as the Royal Ascot racetrack and a sumptuous formal London ball. (Entertaining as it was, the previous film — A New Era — found everybody a bit out of place, in the south of France.) 

Even so, I worried that the absence of Maggie Smith’s Dowager Countess Violet Crawley would leave a gaping hole in the many carefully crafted relationship dynamics, which Fellowes established over so many years. 

 

Happily, she’s very much in evidence, and not merely via the handsome portrait displayed prominently in the estate’s grand hall. The Dowager Countess’ spirit also is present, and her marvelously tart one-liners have been taken up by Penelope Wilton’s Lady Isobel Merton, who delivers them with equal genteel frostiness.

 

The year is 1930, and the Crawleys — Lord Grantham (Hugh Bonneville), Lady Cora Grantham (Elizabeth McGovern), Lady Edith Hexham (Laura Carmichael) and her husband, Lord Hexham (Harry Hadden-Paton) — have just enjoyed a performance of Noël Coward’s operetta, Bitter Sweet. They’re in posh orchestral seats, of course, while Mr. Bates (Brendan Coyle), his pregnant wife Anna (Joanne Froggatt) and Miss Baxter (Raquel Cassidy) watch from an upper balcony.

 

A backstage visit grants additional exposure to Coward (Arty Froushan, who truly nails the role), star Guy Dexter (Dominic West) and his valet/companion, Thomas Barrow (Robert James-Collier), former Downton junior footman-turned-butler.

 

Coward ultimately plays a significant role in the film’s third act, and his presence also allows for carefully placed and thematically significant songs, including “I’ll See You Again,” “The Stately Homes of England” and “Poor Little Rich Girl.” The first is from the operetta, while the latter two are clever, Coward-esque songs by soundtrack composer John Lunn, who has been with the series from the beginning. (And yes, his iconic title theme is suitably placed.)

 

A running plot line from the first two big-screen films continues to stress the Crawleys: the increasing financial difficulty of maintaining Downton, along with their lifestyle, amid the socio-economic changes taking place during this period between wars. To that end, the family has placed great hope in an inheritance due Cora, following the death of her mother; her “black sheep” brother — Harold (Paul Giamatti), not seen since the TV show’s fourth season — arrives to share these details, accompanied by financial advisor Gus Sambrook (Alessandro Nivola).

 

But that issue is torpedoed abruptly, by the public revelation of Lady Mary’s (Michelle Dockery) divorce from her husband, Henry Talbot. This makes her persona non grata at Lady Petersfield’s Ball — the highlight of the social calendar — where Mary is ordered to leave, because in their aristocratic circle she immediately shifts from society darling to shamed outcast. (Additionally a pity, because we don’t get to see much of the sumptuous gown in which costume designer Anna Robbins garbed her, for this scene.)

 

Highest 2 Lowest: Too much of the latter

Highest 2 Lowest (2025) • View trailer

2.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for relentless profanity, racial epithets and drug use

Available via: Apple TV+

By Derrick Bang

This film is a mess.

 

“Sloppy” and “unrestrained” aren’t words I normally associate with a Spike Lee endeavor, but this bewildering drama seems to have been stitched together like Frankenstein’s monster. The effort to blend predatory music biz avarice with a straight-ahead crime/police thriller ultimately fails on both counts.

 

Having ultimately agreed to pay an exorbitant ransom,, David King (Denzel Washington,
far right) boards a subway, cash-laden backpack in tow, and awaits a call with the next
set of instructions.

Matters aren’t helped by the fact that Denzel Washington — usually so adept at subtlety — behaves here like his character is high on coke the entire time. His David King too often is agitated, twitchy, impulsive and verging on out of control ... and, when interacting with his son Trey (Aubrey Joseph), unpleasantly emotionally abusive.

I realize, with respect to the storyline, that King always needs to be seen as The Man With A Plan, but — more often than not — he acts like the host of a particularly silly 

TV game show. And Lee let him get away with this?

 

Advance publicity has highlighted the fact that Lee’s film, scripted by Alan Fox, is adapted from Akira Kurosawa’s 1963 film, High and Low, which starred Toshirô Mifune. Less attention is paid to the fact that Kurosawa’s film was adapted from Ed McBain’s 1959 novel, King’s Ransom, 10th in his 87th Precinct series.

 

No surprise, Lee’s third-generation adaptation bears only faint resemblance to McBain’s novel, which shows poor judgment. McBain was an accomplished writer and plotter; Fox is neither. That said, the core plot has been updated to reflect today’s social media obsession, which adds an intriguing element.

 

Longtime Manhattan-based music mogul David King (Washington), once a mover and shaker who championed numerous young talents in the early 21st century, now is regarded as “past it.” He sold off majority interest in his company years back, in order to finance the lavish lifestyle enjoyed with his wife, Pam (Ilfenesh Hadera), and their son.

 

But now his beloved label, Stackin’ Hits Records, faces a buyout from a rival — Stray Dog Enterprises — that would exploit all the artists’ songs by turning them into TV commercial jingles (a fate worse than death). King concocts a Hail Mary plan to buy the shares belonging to partner Patrick Bethea (Michael Potts), in order to regain control, thus allowing him to rejuvenate the label ... but this will require leveraging all of King’s personal assets.

 

King’s chauffeur and longtime best friend, Paul Christopher (Jeffrey Wright), is an ex-con who nonetheless is regarded as family. King is godfather to Christopher’s son, Kyle (Elijah Wright), and the two teens also are inseparable besties. Christopher’s wife died years back, so Kyle means everything to him.

The Thursday Murder Club: Totally delightful!

The Thursday Murder Club (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, and too harshly, for occasional violent content, fleeting profanity and mild sexual candor

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.14.25

The talent involved here certainly is impressive.

 

Bringing British author Richard Osman’s 2020 debut novel to the big screen was one of the occasional “third rails” of cinema. The book is enormously popular: the UK’s best-selling title of the decade, and translated into 46 languages. Somewhat akin to the challenge of adapting J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series, Osman’s fans weren’t about to tolerate anything less than reverential.

 

With their new colleague PC Donna de Freitas (Naomi Ackie, center) leading the way,
she and the members of the Thursday Murder Club — from left, Joyce (Celia Imrie),
Elizabeth (Helen Mirren), Ron (Pierce Brosnan) and Ibrahim (Ben Kingsley) — confront
a rather nasty surprise.

They have nothing to worry about.

Director Chris Columbus and co-scripters Katy Brand and Suzanne Heathcote deftly retained Osman’s essential tone, atmosphere and mildly whimsical, British-dry wit. Of necessity, the labyrinthine twists within the book’s 400 pages have been condensed, with some minor sidebar individuals and distractions left behind, but the core plot and characters are solid.

 

The result is equal parts Agatha Christie and Downton Abbey, with a soupçon of Jane Austen thrown into the mix.

 

On top of which, you simply cannot beat a leading cast that features Helen Mirren, Pierce Brosnan, Ben Kingsley, Celia Imrie and Naomi Ackie. They’re all note-perfect.

 

The setting is the sumptuous Cooper’s Chase retirement village, plunked in the midst of Kent’s (fictitious) seaside village of Fairhaven. The well-to-do residents include Elizabeth Best (Mirren), psychiatrist Ibrahim Arif (Kingsley) and former trade union leader Ron Ritchie (Brosnan), who meet weekly — on Thursdays — to discuss long-dormant cold cases.

 

How they settle on a given case is left somewhat vague, as is Elizabeth’s background; this film deliberately leaves that detail unrevealed until late in the third act. That said, she clearly has “connections” of some sort.

 

The trio quickly is drawn to new resident Joyce Meadowcroft, (Imrie) a retired nurse and compulsive baker, whose facility for lavish cakes immediately endears her to Ron.

 

As the story begins, they decide to investigate the unsolved murder of a young woman named Angela Hughes: a case originally handled by Detective Inspector Penny Gray (Susan Kirkby), now comatose in hospice care, attended constantly by her devoted husband, John (Paul Freeman).

 

Coincidentally, the local police force headed by DCI Chris Hudson (Daniel Mays) has just been augmented by PC Donna De Freitas (Ackie), recently transferred from London. Given that Fairhaven’s police force is “provincial” (read: mostly male), she’s initially relegated to trivial duties. A chance encounter with the Cooper’s Chase quartet prompts a much more interesting collaboration, which in turn grants the retirees access to police intel.

Bob Trevino LIkes It: So do I

Bob Trevino Likes It (2024) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity and brief profanity

Available via: Hulu and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

This is a sweet little film, anchored by star Barbie Ferreira’s excellent, frequently heartbreaking performance.

 

It’s also one of the saddest films I’ve ever seen, with a concluding emotional wallop that left me a wreck. (In a good way.)

 

Although their initial in-person meeting is a near disaster, Lily (Barbie Ferreira) and Bob
(John Leguizamo) recover quickly, and soon settle into an increasingly strong friendship.

Indie writer/director Tracie Laymon’s gentle character study is built around a “life truth” that not enough people take to heart: Friends are the family we choose.

This is particularly important for those unfortunate enough to have toxic biological family members.

 

That’s the case with Lily Trevino (Ferreira), introduced at low ebb, having just realized that her boyfriend is cheating on her. (He was stupid enough to send Lily a message intended for the other woman.) Cinematographer John Rosario’s mercilessly tight close-up leaves no room for Ferreira to “cheat” the moment; her embarrassment, humiliation and anger are as palpable as the tears that flow down her cheeks.

 

And what does Lily do, in the moment? Rather than sending a “drop dead” message that the guy deserves, she more-or-less lets him off the hook, as if toying with her emotions is no big deal.

 

Alas, Lily comes by this reaction naturally, having lost her mother at age 4, and thereafter been raised by her selfish, manipulative and emotionally abusive father, Robert (French Stewart, whose performance takes no prisoners). Watching the two of them together is sheer agony. We grieve for her.

 

Lily isn’t quite a failure-to-launch, but she’s still a mess: self-esteem that wouldn’t fill a thimble, no respect for her body image, too many credit cards maxed to their limit, and no sense of basic survival skills.

 

She lucked into a good job, though, as a live-in aide for wheelchair-bound Daphne (Lauren “Lolo” Spencer), roughly the same age. But that’s also a crutch of sorts, because it allows Lily the luxury of not having to worry about more than grocery shopping, preparing  meals and being a compassionate companion. Which she is.

 

Even Lily’s attempt at self-improvement by seeing a counselor goes awry, when the poor woman (Ashlyn Moore), fresh on the job, bursts into tears after hearing a recitation of details about Lily’s horrific childhood.

The Map that Leads to You: Ultimately preposterous

The Map that Leads to You (2025) • View trailer

Three stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for sexual candor, partial nudity and brief profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.1.25

Seasoned travelers possessing a healthy dose of caution and self-preservation will have a hard time with this film’s first act, during which the story’s three young American college graduates foolishly abandon carefully established plans in favor of hooking up with random hunky guys.

 

Despite postponing her return to New York by two weeks, to work on her deepening
relationship with Jack (KJ Apa), Heather (Madelyn Cline) cannot get him to be
entirely candid about himself.

I mean, what could go wrong, eh?

Heather (Madelyn Cline) is the meticulous organizer: keeper of the itinerary, and the de facto mother hen who ensures they make all their necessary connections. Connie (Sofia Wylie) is laid back and goes with the flow. Amy (Madison Thompson), reeling from a recent break-up, is a reckless idiot who forever runs late.

 

One does wonder how they’ve managed to remain friends, as they approach the final few days of a European vacation that began in Amsterdam and — when we meet them — concludes with a few days in Barcelona. 

 

Their dynamic undoubtedly is better established in Joseph Monniger’s 2017 novel, upon which this film is based; the Leslie Bohem/Vera Herbert screenplay gets off to a rushed and clumsy start. (In fairness, the trio’s strong bond is depicted better, as the story proceeds.)

 

Even so, the early meet-cute between Heather and Jack (KJ Apa) is genuinely sweet, during an overnight train to Barcelona, as they bond over identical copies of Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises.

 

Texas-born Heather has organized this gal-pal getaway before she begins a banking career in New York City. She takes comfort in plans and predictability, likely in response to having been abandoned by her mother when 10 years old.

 

Jack charms his way into their group, bringing good friend Raef (Orlando Norman) into the mix; the latter clicks with Connie. An eye-rollingly lunatic misadventure follows, after which the story settles into its anticipated focus on Heather and Jack. He’s following in the footsteps of a European tour journal meticulously written and illustrated by his long-gone great-grandfather Russell, who embraced a free-spirited existence after barely surviving his World War II service.

 

That’s a captivating notion, and director Lasse Hallström frequently blends the live action with glimpses of Russell’s sketches, and narrated passages from the journal.

 

Jack emulates his great-grandfather’s come-what-may approach to each day, resisting Heather’s initially surprised — and soon probing — questions about his refusal to think about the future. He prefers “being present” in each moment. His affable smile and laid-back charisma notwithstanding, Jack is evasive to the point of unease. 

Winter Spring Summer or Fall: A romantic charmer

Winter Spring Summer or Fall (2024) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for teen drug and alcohol use, and brief profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.31.25

Ever since writer John Hughes started what became a popular sub-genre with Pretty in Pink and Some Kind of Wonderful, back in the late 1980s, one or two similarly witty, dialogue-heavy and sharply observed young romance films — blessed with similarly charismatic stars — have arrived every decade.

 

After initially failing to click, Remi (Jenna Ortega) and Barnes (Percy Hynes White)
gradually begin to enjoy each other's company. But can their relationship survive two
divergent career paths?

Before Sunrise (and its two sequels) and Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist immediately spring to mind.

This one belongs in their company.

 

Dan Schoffer’s cleverly structured narrative — which owes a nod to Alan Alda’s The Four Seasons — is matched by Tiffany Paulsen’s noteworthy feature directorial debut. Her touch is just right with each character, although she’s fortunate that stars Jenna Ortega and Percy Hynes White already share combustible chemistry. 

 

Although films of this sort are by nature fantasies, they work when we become invested in the characters; that happens quickly here.

 

(Fair warning: Viewers inclined toward cynical smirks and rolled eyes are advised to seek their pleasure elsewhere.)

 

High School senior Barnes Hawthorne (Hynes White) spots Remi Aguilar (Ortega) one winter day, while visiting his friend P.J. (Elias Kacavas), who lives across the street from her. P.J. explains that the young woman is super-smart, and has just completed a Google Fellowship interview. Barnes’ expression is thoughtful, his gaze intrigued.

 

Later that day, Barnes and Remi wind up on the same train; he’s attending a concert in New York, and she has an appointment to tour Columbia University. After some initial awkwardness — “I’m not a stalker,” he somewhat ineptly insists — they begin chatting, and share plans following their completion of high school. She intends to attend Harvard and become a lawyer, like her parents; he desires an unspecified gap year.

 

Little realizing that it makes her sound pushy, Remi suggests that he could use the time productively, by volunteering with sea turtles or working with a music group. (She comes by this behavior naturally, as we’ll discover after spending some time with her parents.) Barnes, sensing things aren’t working, counters by extoling the virtues of David Byrne and the Talking Heads.

 

Despite some mildly graceless conversational misfires, Barnes keeps trying. Alas, matters take an unfortunate turn after they disembark, and the already weak connection is severed.

 

Relay: A suspenseful race

Relay (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.24.25

This is a slick little burst of adrenaline.

 

Director David Mackenzie’s sharp handling of Justin Piasecki’s original script evokes fond memories of 1970s “paranoia thrillers” such as The Parallax View, The Conversation and Executive Action.

 

Ash (Riz Ahmed), well aware that his client's movements are being monitored at all
times, finds it increasingly difficult to help her evade this surveillance.

In terms of pacing and cinematographer Giles Nuttgens’ numerous long takes, Mackenzie’s approach also is old-school, despite the action taking place very strongly in present-day Manhattan. At a tense and suspenseful 112 minutes, this film deserves to be viewed uninterrupted, so plan accordingly.

Ash (Riz Ahmed), a former failed corporate whistleblower, nearly killed himself via guilt-induced alcoholism. Now several years sober and faithfully attending AA meetings, he has re-invented himself as a solitary “fixer” who helps others in similar dire straits: people who attempt to be a whistleblower, but then fearfully panic and wish solely to return the stolen data, in the hopes of being left alone.

 

Ash acts as a go-between, brokering lucrative payoffs between corrupt corporations and the individuals who threaten their ruin. He arranges for the data to be returned, while retaining a carefully protected copy himself, as a means of ensuring his client’s ongoing safety. 

 

Ash remains a unseen figure in the shadows, keeping his identity secret via meticulous planning and an exacting set of rules. He operates via disguises, discarded phone SIM cards, U.S. Post Office drops under multiple fictitious names — often in other cities and states — while living in a high-security building and masterminding each operation from an equally fortified “war room.”

 

He never speaks to a client, instead maintaining anonymity via the “Tri-State Relay Service,” which provides specially trained operators to relay telephone conversations between people who are deaf, hard of hearing or speech-disabled. He types his messages; they’re communicated verbally to the client by a relay operator; the client responds verbally, which in turn is relayed back to Ash’s laptop.

 

It’s fascinating: slow, but quite effective.