The Choral: Makes beautiful music

The Choral (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five); rated R, for profanity and sexual candor

Available via: Apple TV+ and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

During an impressive partnership/friendship that goes back to 1994, director Nicholas Hytner and writer Alan Bennett have collaborated on four films: The Madness of King George, The History Boys, The Lady in the Van and this new one ... along with far more stage productions.

 

Ellis (Taylor Uttley, center left), Lofty (Oliver Briscombe, center right) and Mitch (Shaun
Thomas, far right) listen soberly as Clyde (Jacob Dudman) describes his war experience.

Both are BAFTA, Olivier and Tony Award winners, and their films are beloved by viewers and critics alike. The films are quintessentially British, depicting well-crafted characters who often just try to get by, while facing some sort of challenge, amid events beyond their control.

The Choral is no different. This period charmer was essentially lost earlier this year, amid the post-holiday crush of Academy Award contenders: another lamentably unsung film scarcely granted theatrical release before being shuttled to the purgatory of streaming services.

 

Because, honestly, how is one supposed to find such a film, amid the cacophony of streaming titles ... unless somebody calls attention to it?

 

Consider this such a call.

 

The year is 1916, the setting the small (fictitious), working-class Yorkshire mill town of Ramsden. The war with Germany has raged for two years, during which time the initially patriotic fervor has been replaced by resignation, worry and sorrow. Too many lives have been lost, with — as everybody now realizes — no end in sight.

 

The story opens as telegram boy Lofty (Oliver Briscombe) delivers the worst kind of news to families desperate for their boys’ safe return. He’s accompanied by best mate Ellis (Taylor Uttley), tagging alongside on his bicycle. Lofty is solemn and kind, well aware of the grim news he bears; Ellis is more lighthearted and jokey. But both exchange a telling glance each time a door opens to a woman who crumples upon seeing what Lofty holds.

 

Both boys are 17. Although the British army was all-volunteer during the war’s initial 18 months, earlier this year an Act of Parliament mandated conscription at age 18. Both boys thus are fully aware of what soon awaits them.

 

Alderman Bernard Duxbury (Roger Allam), who owns the mill, also is chairman of the local Choral Society. The group traditionally mounts an annual performance of J.S. Bach’s The St. Matthew Passion. But the war has drastically reduced the choral’s male section — and Duxbury’s work force — which, at one point, prompts a grim warning, “No mill, no music.”

 

Duxbury lost his only son to the war; his wife, Margaret (Eunice Roberts), has retreated into wordless grief, unwilling to abandon her black clothing. But Duxbury, carrying on, recognizes that encouraging the choral’s remaining singers and musicians to produce a concert far beyond their means grants purpose and camaraderie.

Project Hail Mary: Overcooked

Project Hail Mary (2026) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five); rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity and fleeting suggestive references

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.22.26

This sci-fi epic has much to admire: two nail-biting challenges woven into an unsettling premise; well-sculpted characters brought to life by a top-notch cast; sensational special effects; and occasional dollops of cheeky humor.

 

Alone aboard an interstellar starship, filled with unanswered questions concerning a
mission he doesn't fully remember, Ryland Grace (Ryan Gosling) is further surprised
by something entirely unexpected.

All of which are sabotaged, because co-directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller overwhelm everything with unrelenting blasts of Daniel Pemberton’s overloud score, with its bombastic droning synth and weird choral touches.

This pounding, so-called “music” pretty much ruins the film.

 

What the heck were Lord and Miller thinking?

 

In some ways, this film — adapted by Drew Goddard, from sci-fi author Andy Weir’s 2021 novel of the same title — feels like a third-generation descendent of 1968’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. But director Stanley Kubrick knew how to use music ... and, more importantly, what kind of music, and when not to use it, thereby allowing the unfolding story to speak for itself.

 

Even so, this saga’s hook is a corker. Ryland Grace (Ryan Gosling) wakens abruptly, and uncomfortably, in some sort of cocoon. After thrashing his way out, frightened by the autoboots attempting to help, he stumbles aboard what we realize is some sort of deep-space ship. But Grace has amnesia: no idea how he got here, and initially not even who he is. 

 

To make matters worse, he discovers that his only two shipmates — also cocooned — are dead, something having failed in their life-support system.

 

Grace is alone. And terrified.

 

His memory returns in fits and starts, establishing the many flashbacks that eventually supply answers; these continue to be intercut, throughout the entire film, with Grace’s ongoing present-day predicament.

 

He recalls being a junior high school science teacher, beloved by his students, one of whom hits him with an uncomfortable question. We thus learn of the “Petrova line” of particles radiating from our Sun to Venus, draining the former’s intensity. Unless something is done, the dimming heat will plunge Earth into a catastrophic ice age within 30 years.

 

Grace is approached by Eva Stratt (Sandra Hüller), accompanied by stern government types who include Carl (Lionel Boyce). Stratt, who introduces herself as the head of a multinational task force assembled to solve the problem, knows Grace’s back-story: He’s a brilliant molecular biologist blackballed after boldly insisting that one of his field’s leading researcher’s work is stuffed full of wild blueberry muffins.

 

Reminders of Him: A solid redemption drama

Reminders of Him (2026) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five); rated PG-13, for profanity, drug use and mild sensuality

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang 

Author Colleen Hoover has blazed an impressive trail in the young adult romance genre, with an astonishing 24 novels and novellas during the past dozen years.

 

After yet another near-miss effort to spend even a fleeting moment with the daughter she
never has known, Kenna (Maika Monroe) admits her fears and helplessness to Ledger
(Tyriq Withers), who is trying hard to be fair with her ... and with everybody else.

She’s perhaps best known for 2016’s It Ends with Us, which became her first big-screen feature adaptation in 2024. It was followed by last year’s similarly respectful handling of 2019’s Regretting You, and now director Vanessa Caswill has helmed a respectful, richly emotional adaptation of 2022’s Reminders of Him.

This is the first one Hoover has co-scripted, alongside Lauren Levine.

 

Hoover’s niche often concerns characters trying to navigate relationships that are fractured, damaged or even toxic. Although the atmosphere can be dark and moody, these are credible, relatable, real-world dramas; no surprise, then, that Hoover has an extremely devoted fan base.

 

The driving question in Reminders concerns the circumstances under which redemption and forgiveness are possible ... and whether the key character deserves them.

 

The story begins as Kenna Rowan (Maika Monroe) returns to her home town of Laramie, Wyoming. Her first act, on the city outskirts, seems spiteful; she angrily removes a cross and flower bouquet marking the site of a previous road accident. Then, left on her own — with very few possessions — she makes her way to the ironically named Paradise Apartment complex, and books a unit that almost maxes out her cash in hand.

 

The feisty landlady, Ruth (Jennifer Robertson, a hoot), offers a slight deduction if Kenna accepts one of the many kittens crawling around the check-in counter.

 

Her unit isn’t quite a pit, but it’s darn close. (Subsequent moments spent with the kitten, as the story proceeds, are a sweet touch.)

 

Finding a job is next. But all the doors slam shut when Kenna honestly admits, on the application forms, that she has just been released from prison. This frustrating first day concludes when she winds up in the bar that now occupies the bookstore she once loved. She has a flirty, but brief encounter with the owner, Ledger (Tyriq Withers); the dynamic seems oddly off.

 

Kenna finally secures a job at a local grocery store, thanks to the kindness of shift manager Amy (Grammy-winning country singer-songwriter Lainey Wilson), who doesn’t probe. Their initial conversation is telling; Amy believes in giving people the chance to prove who they are in the present, rather than who they were in the past. (Nice thought. We need more of that.)

Arco: Insufferably weird and unstructured

Arco (2025) • View trailer

Two stars (out of five); rated PG, and much too generously, for bleak dramatic intensity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang 

Every year, it seems obligatory that one of the Oscar-nominated animated feature films is preposterously bizarre and unsatisfying, having attracted attention solely because of the way it looks.

 

When Arco attempts to fly without benefit of his crucial time-traveling gemstone, Iris
supplies the necessary weather conditions by blending the day's bright sunlight with
water spray from sprinklers and her hose nozzle. The result ... leaves much to be desired.

If imagination and visual razzle-dazzle were all that mattered, then this one would indeed deserve some of its many accolades.

But there’s the not-inconsequential matter of story, in which department this feature from French co-directors Ugo Bienvenu and Gilles Cazaux comes up seriously short.

 

In interviews, Bienvenu has admitted constructing Arco from a series of hand-drawn sketches, rather than a script.

 

That’s blindingly obvious, because — in terms of narrative — this film often is an incomprehensible and impenetrable mess. Additionally, its tone veers wildly from serious ecological cautionary tale, to bumbling slapstick farce. Those two don’t play well together.

 

Bienvenu shares scripting credit — such as it is — with Félix de Givry.

 

In the distant future — sources differ on 2932 or 3000, but neither is mentioned during the film — people live on circular, open-air platforms that jut out, like branches, from immense towers. Those are anchored on Earth somewhere far below, beneath an all-encompassing blanket of concealing clouds. 

 

Mention is made that this is “the great fallow,” intended to “let the Earth rest.” We assume some sort of ecological disaster, never specified.

 

Each family’s adult members periodically travel back in time, returning with single examples of a fruit, vegetable or spice, which are gene-sequenced and replicated, so that everybody can have lush gardens. Individuals traveling in this manner — which can take place only during a combination of rain and sunlight — leave a rainbow in their wake.

 

Animals never are mentioned, and (apparently) nobody has pets. But birds are in abundance, and people can talk to them (!).

 

The colorful animation style at times evokes Hayao Miyazaki, but his films always contain a cheerful warmth that’s utterly lacking in this cold, clinical, brooding story.

 

People sleep suspended in mid-air, under an anti-gravity light, in uniform-style pajamas and no blankets (which, frankly looks neither comfortable nor cozy).

Hoppers: Absolutely fabulous

Hoppers (2026) • View trailer

Five stars (out of five); rated PG, for dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.8.26

I didn’t think Pixar ever would top 2015’s marvelous Inside Out, with its clever blend of humor, pathos and gentle social commentary, wrapped into a wildly imaginative premise.

 

Having unknowingly violated the all-encompassing "pond rules" that govern this diverse
collection of animals, Mabel — her mind currently occupying the body of the cute
robotic beaver about to become a bear's lunch — is brought before the community's king.

But director Daniel Chong and co-writer Jesse Andrews have done the seemingly impossible: Pixar’s newest entry is even better. Proof positive, once again, that some of today’s best original scripts are attached to animated films.

You’ll laugh, cry, nod and marvel at this film’s similarly ingenious story, which also contains a slyly subversive message.

 

A brief prologue introduces animal-loving Mabel (voiced by Piper Curda) as an adolescent, during a failed attempt to free her school’s numerous classroom pets from their dismal lives of relentless poking and prodding. Banished for the rest of the day, then dumped into the sympathetic embrace of her beloved Grandma Tanaka (Karen Huie), the angry, humiliated little girl can’t understand why people don’t realize she was doing a good thing.

 

 Grandma Tanaka walks her to a large rock in a tranquil glade, which overlooks a pond.

 

“Be still,” her grandmother instructs. “Listen ... and watch.”

 

The silence soon is broken by bird songs and the hum of insects. The foliage rustles, as deer walk past; beavers happily work on the large dam that has created this pond.

 

The moment is magical, transformational. Many more such visits follow.

 

The story then flashes forward. Mabel, now 19, is an equally impassioned college student who constantly locks horns with Beaverton’s grandstanding, development-obsessed “Mayor Jerry” (Jon Hamm). He’s promoting his re-election bid with the promise of a new stretch of overhead highway that’ll improve commute time “by minutes.”

 

The final portion also will destroy Mabel’s beloved glade, along with its many wonderful memories. Mayor Jerry can get away with this, because the pond, dam and its wildlife — particularly the beavers — are long gone.

 

Mayor Jerry taunts Mabel, giving her 48 hours to somehow lure the beavers back, knowing full well that’s impossible.

 

Savvy viewers will wonder why all the animals left.

H Is for Hawk: Deeply moving

H Is for Hawk (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five); rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity and occasional profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

In the spring of 2007, as a means of coping with her grief after the sudden death of her beloved father — with whom she shared many interests, most notably birding — 27-year-old Cambridge research fellow Helen Macdonald purchased a young Eurasian goshawk, intending to train it.

 

Having spent weeks (months?) training her goshawk to trust her, and respond to
commands, Helen (Claire Foy) prepares to let the bird loose for its first outdoor kill.

Although impulsive, this wasn’t an entirely foolish act; Macdonald had been flying falcons, alongside her father, since adolescence. But goshawks are notoriously vicious, volatile and savage: almost impossible to train.

Macdonald ultimately recounted her experience in an award-winning 2014 memoir which became a best-seller within a fortnight.

 

Her saga now has become a deeply poignant, emotionally shattering and unexpectedly exhilarating film — of the same title — under the careful direction of Philippa Lowthorpe, who shares scripting credit with Emma Donoghue. MacDonald is brought to life via a remarkably nuanced performance by Claire Foy, who runs a gamut of emotions during this saga.

 

We barely meet Helen’s father, longtime Daily Mirror photojournalist Alisdair Macdonald (Brendan Gleeson), before Claire — while at Cambridge — receives word that he died unexpectedly, while on assignment. Gathered alongside her mother (Lindsay Duncan) and brother James (Josh Dylan) in a funeral parlor, their mourning is briefly overcome by incredulous, shared laughter when the agent suggests a decorated “themed coffin.”

 

(This tacky, tone-deaf moment is Lowthorpe’s sole dose of macabre comic relief. I cringed at the notion that this actually may have occurred.)

 

Back at Cambridge, unable to focus on teaching, or finishing her fellowship — or even worrying about where she’ll live if she doesn’t finish — Claire decides that embracing an impossible challenge is the only way to endure getting through each day. Longtime friend and fellow falconer Stuart (Sam Spruell) thinks she’s crazy; goshawks are “the wildest and maddest of raptors ... the perfectly evolved psychopath.”

 

“Don’t even think about it,” he further cautions, “certainly not in your state.”

Dead of Winter: Great start, deplorable finish

Dead of Winter (2025) • View trailer

Three stars (out of five); rated R, for violence and profanity

Available via: HBO MAX

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.1.26

Between this film and her recent starring role in the British miniseries adaptation of Mick Herron’s Down Cemetery Road, Emma Thompson appears to be staking a place in the action thriller genre.

 

Having been spotted by a pair of desperate and deranged kidnappers — one of whom
expertly wields a rifle — Barb (Emma Thompson) does her best to hide.

But whereas her character in that miniseries is a scrappy private investigator, her role here is strictly ordinary ... if perhaps more resourceful than most.

Director Brian Kirk’s brooding, atmospheric drama gets its suspenseful heft from a cleverly structured original script by Nicholas Jacobson-Larson and Dalton Leeb. Thompson handles the starring role with total persuasion; she’s one of a handful of talented actors who can fill even mundane bits of business with complex theatrical heft.

 

Barb (Thompson) is introduced as she begins a new day, in the isolated, snowbound wilderness of northern Minnesota. Her movements and behavior bespeak countless mornings just like this, but today somehow feels a bit different; her features suggest sorrow.

 

Her home is adjacent to a bait-and-tackle store that is closed for the winter; both are within easy driving distance of nearby Lake Hilda ... and, indeed, she loads supplies into her truck and heads in that direction. Before leaving the house, she snatches a treasured Polaroid photograph — we can’t quite make it out — and clips it to one of the truck’s interior visors.

 

But it’s a wretched day, with a blizzard warning; attempting to get anywhere, in the midst of such extreme weather, seems the height of recklessness. Why would someone experienced with such an environment, risk making such a trip?

 

Ah, but Barb has an excellent reason ... which we don’t learn about, until the third act.

 

(This Minnesota setting notwithstanding, filming took place in Koli, Finland, and Germany’s North Rhine-Westphalia ... where, presumably, the snow and frozen lake conditions were more reliable.)

 

A faint sound, en route to the lake, piques her curiosity; she follows it to a cabin, where a man (Marc Menchaca) is chopping firewood. Startled, he demands to know what she wants. Sensing something amiss, Barb changes tack and — feigning unfamiliarity — asks for directions to the lake. 

 

Somewhat pacified, he answers; Barb departs. But she notices fresh dapples of blood on the snow in front of the cabin.

Is This Thing On? — A captivating ensemble piece

Is This Thing On? (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R for sexual candor, drug use and frequent profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

Relationships, like laptops, sometimes need to hit Reset.

 

Director Bradley Cooper’s thoughtful, unhurried character study opens on a close-up of Alex Novak (Will Arnett), present solely in body, as a parent at a school activity being thoroughly enjoyed by a gaggle of kids that includes adolescent sons Felix (Blake Kane) and Jude (Calvin Knegten).

 

At one point, as their marriage unravels, Alex (Will Arnett) is surprised by the intensity
with which Tess (Laura Dern) angrily laments missing the happier, more
spontaneous person that he once was.

Alex scarcely pays attention, his head leaning against a wall, eyes staring into nonethingness, expression a blend of disinterest, resignation and helplessness.

He knows — as we soon learn — that this is the last such event he and wife Tess (Laura Dern) will attend as a couple. “This isn’t working,” they’ve mutually agreed ... “this” being the American dream of a home, two kids, two lovably large dogs (Charlie and Lucy) and a successful career (his days occupied by something “in finance”).

 

The unspoken middle-age crossroads finds them flailing.

 

Alex soon will move into an apartment, as a “trial separation,” but they haven’t told anybody yet: not their friends, not his parents, and certainly not their sons. This school event, followed by a regular game night with friends — Christine (Andra Day) and the aptly nicknamed Balls (Cooper); and Stephen (Sean Hayes) and Geoffrey (Scott Icenogle) — will be Alex and Tess’ final hurrah.

 

The group conversation is lively; Alex occasionally smiles and nods, but he clearly isn’t paying attention. He isn’t present in the moment. Cinematographer Matthew Libatique favors tight close-ups, which amplify Arnett’s vacuous, forlorn expression.

 

Balls — typically late to arrive, typically stoned — trips on a carpet coming in, dumping an entire carton of milk.

 

“Don’t cry over spilt milk,” Tess says (a line that’s a bit too on the nose). It becomes clear that her cheerfulness is a pose that occasionally evaporates, exposing ... something. Disappointment? Anger? Certainly not relief.

 

All this aside, during the next few days Alex and Tess are sensitive to their sons’ reactions and needs; both boys, in their feature acting debuts, deliver heartfelt and refreshingly natural performances under Cooper’s careful guidance.

The 2026 Oscar Shorts: Good things in small packages

The Oscar Shorts (2026) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Unrated, akin to a PG-13 for occasional dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 2.22.26

This year’s batch of Academy Award-nominated animation and live-action shorts is much more entertaining than those from the past several years.

The animated entries aren’t visually weird or off-putting, and the live-action entries aren’t unrelentingly depressing. The overall “mood mix” is varied, with a pleasant balance of serious, gently moral and laugh-out-loud amusing.

 

That said, one live-action entry is quite bizarre ... and we’ll get to that.

 

Starting with animation, I’ve always been impressed by filmmakers who tell their stories without dialogue, making them immediately approachable to viewers throughout the world. Two of this year’s entries take that approach.

 

U.S. writer/directors Nathan Engelhardt and Jeremy Spears deliver a fascinating blend of carved wood elements and CGI in Forevergreen, a charming little tale about an orphaned bear cub “adopted” by a fatherly tree. Their bond is strong until the bear reaches young adulthood, at which point it’s tempted by the allure of easy human food: something the wise, long-lived tree knows could be dangerous.

 

This film’s overall look is enchanting. Engelhardt and Spears wanted their bear to be “tree-like,” to strengthen the viewer’s impression of their rapport; the gentle CGI elements definitely deliver that emotional note.

 

This 13-minute film’s conclusion is a heart-tugger, so be prepared.

 

Russian director Konstantin Bronzit’s The Three Sisters employs classic, hand-drawn 2D animation, in an exaggerated style that enhances his story’s broadly comic elements. (No, this has nothing to do with Chekhov.) Three devout sisters live a quiet life on a barren, isolated island that pokes out of the ocean like the upper half of a beach ball.

 

Supplies are delivered periodically by boat; the women pay with coins from a carefully guarded purse, which — horrors! — one day falls into the sea. Now forced to earn money by renting out one of their homes, the dynamic shifts abruptly when the new lodger turns out to be a grizzled fellow as coarse as they are delicate.

 

Except they don’t stay that way, once they vie for his attention...

 

This core story is hilarious enough on its own, but Bronzit adds plenty of droll sight gags that are even funnier, thanks to his animation style.

 

Crime 101: Slick and suspenseful

Crime 101 (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for violence, sexual candor, brief nudity and plenty of profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

This is a solid, methodical crime thriller, very much in the mold of classics such as 1971’s The French Connection, 2010’s The Town, and director Michael Mann’s Heat (1995) and Collateral (2004).

 

During their first date, Maya (Monica Barbaro) becomes increasingly puzzled when
Mike (Chris Hemsworth) is unable — or unwilling — to share personal details about
his childhood, friends and family members.

Director/scripter Bart Layton delivers a similarly clinical, semi-detached atmosphere, along with an intriguing roster of characters, each deftly portrayed by the excellent ensemble cast. Layton also benefits from his source material: the 2021 novella by respected crime author Don Winslow.

The best line from that novella, which firmly establishes the milieu in which these individuals operate: “Laws are made to be broken, with rules that are made to be followed.”

 

The on-screen result is a treat.

 

Layton doesn’t waste time with any back-story. We briefly meet our three primary characters as each greets a new day: Mike Davis (Chris Hemsworth), cool, calm and collected; Sharon Coombs (Halle Berry), exhausted from another night of fitful sleep; and Lou Lubesnick (Mark Ruffalo), rumpled, flustered and unhappy.

 

Matters then focus on Mike, as he begins another of his precision-planned heists of jewels being transported to underworld buyers. He intercepts and takes the place of a guard, which grants him access to the actual transfer point, orchestrated by the shady jeweler (Payman Maadi, as Sammy Kassem). Davis brandishes a gun, sufficient to frighten everyone into cooperation; clearly, variations of this approach have succeeded many times before.

 

But this time things go slightly awry, because an intermediary brought along a younger, unseasoned companion who behaves rashly.

 

Clearly shaken, Mike nonetheless keeps his rendezvous with his fence and “sponsor,” known only as Money (Nick Nolte). They discuss Mike’s next scoped-out job, involving the robbery of a posh Santa Barbara jewelry store. But Mike has had second thoughts, concerned by too many variables.

 

Meanwhile, high-end claims adjuster Sharon Coombs (Halle Berry), dressed to kill, is doing her best to sweet-talk über-rich Beverly Hills asshole Monroe (Tate Donovan) into allowing her company to insure and protect all the flagrantly expensive elements of his upcoming marriage to his trophy fiancée, Adrienne (Andra Nechita). 

 

Sharon has long been promised partnership at her firm, but she’s beginning to realize that her smarmy boss, Mark (Paul Adelstein), has been dangling this hope while using her as glamorous “bait” on wealthy clients. And, on the north end of 50, Sharon worries that she may be reaching her sell-by date … particularly when Mark augments his team with a much younger cutie.

 

When Kassem calls the police; Lou catches the case with his partner, Tillman (Corey Hawkins). Recognizing the modus operandi, Lou is convinced that this is the latest job by the same individual responsible for a couple dozen earlier, similar heists, all of them committed at stores along the 101 freeway. But he’s alone is this belief, and his ongoing obsession has diminished the respect he once possessed, as a capable investigator.

 

Lou is an old-style cop, who trusts his instincts and believes in following even the tiniest of leads. This attitude has made him a dinosaur, increasingly at odds with a boss who prefers clearing cases off the department ledgers, to actually solving who perpetrated them.

The Secret Agent: Superlative in all respects

The Secret Agent (2025) • View trailer

Five stars (out of five). Rated R, for strong, bloody violence, sexual content, profanity and nudity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 2.15.26

Brazilian filmmakers clearly are drawn to unsettling dramas set during the 21-year military dictatorship that ousted the democratically elected president in 1964, both as a means of addressing their country’s recent past, and as an uncomfortable parallel to current events … particularly in the United States.

 

Armando (Wagner Moura, center, smiling) finds a safe and comfortable haven in a
group home, among fellow refugees.

Writer/director Kleber Mendonça Filho’s new film arrives hot on the heels of Walter Salles’ I’m Still Here, which hit our shores early last year. But while that film is heavily autobiographical, based on Salles’ mother’s memoirs, Mendonça Filho’s compelling drama is a fictitious, Hollywood-style production very much in the mold of 1970s American “paranoia thrillers” such as The Parallax View and The Conversation.

Indeed, Mendonça Filho admits to having emulated the style of directors such as Robert Altman, Steven Spielberg and Martin Scorsese.

 

This cleverly crafted narrative unfolds in tantalizing, teasing dollops. It’s a grimly melancholy study of how ordinary people become complicit in an ongoing atmosphere of corruption, by gradually accepting it as business as usual.

 

The year is 1977; we meet Armando Solimões (a note-perfect Wagner Moura) as he travels during the sweltering carnival holiday, driving a Volkswagen Beetle (which were ubiquitous in Brazil, during that decade). A stop for gas exposes both the jaw-dropping disregard of a recent violent encounter, and the casual corruption of a passing police officer who subjects Armando to an unnecessary “interview.”

 

He handles that quasi-interrogation with cool, mildly amused detachment, aware that this is a routine “game” that must be played. But, as we soon learn, Armando’s sang froid is a carefully crafted pose, because he’s a man on the run. He’s heading to the northeastern Atlantic Coast city of Recife, where his in-laws have been caring for his young son, Fernando (Enzo Nunes).

 

Armando’s wife, Fátima, is out of the picture. We don’t find out why, or how, for awhile.

 

He has been directed to a “safe house” run by Dona Sebastiana (Tânia Maria), a venerable former anarcho-communist who has given similar refuge to a gaggle of other political dissidents.

 

Maria is terrific in this role, giving Dona Sebastiana an adorable blend of feisty resilience, shrewd character judgement and sharp-eyed intelligence; this woman has seen it all, and survives to tell countless tales. Maria definitely should have garnered a Supporting Actress Oscar nod; she’s leagues above at least two of the actresses who did make the cut.

Orwell 2+2=5: If only it weren't true

Orwell 2+2=5 (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five); rated R, for violent content and brief graphic nudity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

“The very concept of objective truth is fading out of this world. Lies will pass into history.”

 

George Orwell, born Eric Arthur Blair, wrote those words in a 1946 essay titled Politics and the English Language.

 

This film concludes as shoppers in a typical American mall are blind to the three key
tenants of George Orwell's 1984 that surround them: War Is Peace, Ignorance Is
Strength, and Freedom Is Slavery.

Perceptive and prophetic as he was, Orwell never could have imagined the degree to which those words would become even more accurate, in this third decade of the 21st century.

Director Raoul Peck’s biographical quasi-documentary also is equal parts disturbing teller of truth … although, as Orwell himself would have cautioned, whose truth?

 

This film should be required viewing by every adult in these United States. Many will embrace it willingly, attuned to the terrifying, clear-cut path that both Orwell and Peck have blazed, illustrating the current world-wide slide from democracy into fascism.

 

As for those who would prefer to ignore or dismiss its message, perhaps they should be strapped to chairs with their eyes held open — as with Malcolm McDowell, in 1971’s A Clockwork Orange — and forced to watch … if only to see themselves, and their hatreds, laid bare.

 

Peck’s film is by no means perfect; his pacing is too leisurely at times, and his enraged, wide-ranging reach sometimes exceeds his grasp. The result can feel overwhelming.

 

Virtually all of the narrative text in Peck’s film comes from Orwell’s written words — from his books, essays, personal letters and diary entries — as somberly read by Damian Lewis. The timeline of Orwell’s life — from early childhood to his death in January 1950, only half a year after 1984 was published — is intercut with clips of events from the early 20th century to mere months before this film was completed.

 

Some of this real-world footage is horrifying; one photographic still, in particular, is gut-wrenching. Other bits are scary for an entirely different reason: the blandness with which despots spread lies and distort reality.

 

Peck also inserts telling scenes from numerous big-screen versions of 1984 — mostly the 1956 Edmond O’Brien and 1984 John Hurt adaptations — along with similarly telling sequences from 2018’s Fahrenheit 451, 2002’s Minority Report and 1985’s Brazil.

 

It quickly becomes clear that we now live in an era of Orwellian “Newspeak,” which he defined as “political language designed to make lies sound truthful, and murder respectable.”