Pressure: Fascinating, behind-the-scenes D-Day saga

Pressure (2026) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five); rated PG-13, for war violence, bloody images and brief profanity

Available via: Peacock (free to subscribers) and other paid VOD options

By Derrick Bang

Director Anthony Maras’ fact-based drama opens on a grim scene that evokes 1998’s Saving Private Ryan.

 

It’s late April 1944. An ashen-faced Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower (Brendan Fraser) slowly walks along Slapton Sands beach in Devon, horrified by the multitude of dead and wounded soldiers, some floating in the waves lapping at the shore. It’s the ghastly wake of Exercise Tiger, a two-day D-Day rehearsal which, because of miscommunication, resulted in the deaths of at least 750 American servicemen, hundreds due to friendly fire.

 

Meteorologist James Stagg (Andrew Scott, right) isn't surprised when his forecast for
the impending D-Day invasion — advising against mounting the offensive on the
chosen day — angers Gen. Eisenhower (Brendan Fraser), but he quietly refuses
to change his mind.

That catastrophe remained largely unknown until the 1988 publication of historian Charles B. MacDonald’s Slapton Sands: The “Cover Up” That Never Was.

The prologue amplifies Eisenhower’s determination to make no mistakes on D-Day.

 

It’s also the first of two “I never knew that” revelations within this film, adapted by Maras and playwright David Haig from the latter’s 2012 play of the same title.

 

We cut to June 2, inside the London home of eminent Scottish meteorologist James Stagg (Andrew Scott) and his very pregnant wife, Liz (Tamsin Topolski). Just as they finish breakfast, Stagg is collected by a military escort, having been appointed Chief Meteorological Officer for the Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force, commanded by Eisenhower.

 

(In November 1943, Stagg was granted an emergency commission with the rank of group captain in the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, giving him an essential level of authority in a military milieu unaccustomed to outsiders ... a detail that this film’s script should have supplied.)

 

Stagg arrives at the heavily guarded Southwick House, and is thrown amidst a group of several dozen researchers and meteorologists under the command of American Col. Irving P. Krick (Chris Messina), who accurately supplied weather conditions for Eisenhower’s earlier African and Middle-Eastern campaigns. Krick and this new team have been tasked with selecting the optimal conditions for the Normandy landing: a specific overlap of weather, the tides, the time of day, and the phase of the moon.

 

They’ve relied on information sent by amateur and professional weather watchers studying conditions, and sending up weather balloons, from hundreds of locations in surrounding countries and bodies of water. Armed with all this data — and one other factor, to be discussed in a moment — Krick confidently assures Eisenhower that conditions will be perfect at 6:30 a.m. Monday, June 5.

 

(No, that isn’t a typo. It’s the basis of this drama.) 

The Fury: Breathtaking martial arts ferocity

The Furious (2025) • View trailer

Four stars* (out of five); rated R, for strong, bloody violence, gore and profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

The dramatic paradigm shifts in martial arts movies can be traced to specific actors and directors.

 

Bruce Lee kick-started the franchise (pun intended) with 1973’s Enter the Dragon, and Jackie Chan moved the needle a decade later, with his signature blend of death-defying stunt work and comedic touches.

 

Having tracked the vicious Mr. Song to his ice factory, Navin (Joe Taslim, left) and
Wang (Miao Xie) prepare to battle several dozen knife-wielding thugs.

Welsh writer/director Gareth Evans and Indonesian martial arts star Iko Uwais upped the ante again, with 2012’s pulse-pounding The Raid: Redemption and its 2014 sequel.

And now we have this jaw-dropping burst of fury from Japanese director Kenji Tanigaki and star Miao Xie, which hits the ground running — literally — and never lets up. Given that it’s available via streaming services, rabid fans of such films are guaranteed to hit PAUSE and REPLAY more than once. Frankly, I challenge them to watch the entire film without having done so.

 

That said, Tanigaki’s film also gets grotesquely violent, gory and — on occasion — tastelessly macabre, making it totally unsuitable for mainstream viewers or those with delicate sensibilities. Tanigaki and his writers — Tin Shu Mak, Zhilong Lei, Kwan-Sin Shum and Frank Hu — go out of their way to be gleefully outrageous at times.

 

They revel in it. So will folks who love this stuff.

 

But Tanigaki and Xie can’t take full credit. Their efforts are tightly interwoven with the equally smashing work by cinematographer Meteor Cheung, editor Chris Tonick, and fight choreographer Kenske Sonomura, along with a supporting cast of martial arts notables from Japan, China, Hong Kong and the United States.

 

The term “copacetic” isn’t anywhere near strong enough to applaud the collaborative result.

 

The setting is “somewhere in Southeast Asia.” As established during a prologue, journalist Matia Phan (JeeJa Yanin) has been investigating the disappearance of numerous children, always from poorer neighborhoods ... much to the dismay of her husband, Navin (Joe Taslim), who regards this work as dangerous.

 

Probing an area one her own one day, the search leads to a particularly grimy hellhole, where she’s drawn to the sound of a crying child. Alas, her rescue attempt goes horribly awry, despite her heroic effort to out-fight a gaggle of baddies.

 

Cut to elsewhere, some time later, as we meet Wang Wei (Xie) and his adolescent daughter, Rainy (Enyou Yang). Wang is mute, and earns a modest living as a handyman; Rainy, who is visiting, usually lives in China with her grandmother. 

 

Brief mention is made of an unspecified “head injury” that occasionally prompts Wang to gingerly touch his scalp. (If this detail is intended to imply some sort of vulnerability, it’s apparently negligible, because it never impedes subsequent events.)

The Odyssey: An epic masterpiece

The Odyssey (2026) • View trailer

Five stars (out of five); rated R, for violence, gore, dramatic intensity and profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.19.26

Not many screenwriters get to share a credit with Homer.

 

And Christopher Nolan is one of very few directors up to the challenge of the ancient Greek poet’s classic work.

 

Warriors three: Odysseus (Matt Damon, center), Cepheus (Jimmy Gonzales, left) and
Eurylochus (Himesh Patel) survey what's left of Troy, following their successful
siege of the city.

This is epic filmmaking on a truly grand scale, which is the only way to present a saga that has it all: gods and goddesses, men and monsters, full-scale battles, perilous sea voyages, and dastardly palace intrigue. Granted, Nolan skips some events, and minimizes the list of involved deities, but only scholars intimately familiar with Homer’s fabled poem will notice.

Nolan wisely holds our attention, during this three-hour masterpiece, by alternating the “money sequences” with quieter, even melancholy moments between primary characters. Indeed, judging by how Monday evening’s sold-out Sacramento crowd reacted, viewers were much more invested in what would become of Odysseus’ kingdom, during his absence, than with what he faced while struggling to return home.

 

Be prepared for a challenging initial character dump.

 

Nolan follows Homer’s template, opening the story in medias res — in the plot’s chronological middle — and then supplying What Came Before via flashbacks recounted by Odysseus and a few other key players.

 

Tensions are high in Ithaca, where 20 years have passed since King Odysseus (Matt Damon) and his men joined Agamemnon (Benny Safdie) in his army’s successful invasion of the city of Troy. During this time, Odysseus’ wife, Penelope (Anne Hathaway), has endured a palace invasion by an ever-expanding number of boorish suitors hoping to become her new husband.

 

She has held them at bay by promising to remarry when she finishes weaving a shroud for Odysseus’ aged father, Laertes ... but she secretly unweaves each day’s progress at night.

 

(And she has gotten away with this for 20 years? That doth raise an eyebrow or two.)

 

The suitors have remained at bay, in part, because Odysseus’ renown, skill and might leave a massive shadow, even in his absence. During one flashback, we see that he’s the only man able to string his bow, inevitably following that up with his favorite party trick: shooting an arrow through a series of bundled axe heads.

 

Odysseus and Penelope’s son, Telemachus (Tom Holland), has come of age during this time. But he’s more eager to find his father — or, at least, to learn if he’s alive — than challenging his mother for the throne.

 

But one of the suitors, Antinous (Robert Pattinson), has grown tired of waiting. His vile nature emerges early on, when he grossly insults Eumaeus (John Leguizamo), Odysseus’ loyal, loquacious friend and swineherd. Although now blind, Eumaeus still is able to tell the young man what he’s doing wrong during a swordplay training session. Leguizamo exudes honor, honestly and loyalty.

 

Worse yet, Antinous contemptuously abuses Argus, Odysseus’ faithful and now quite aged dog. Pattinson oozes smarmy menace, with a scowl to match. (Do we hate Antinous? You betcha.)

 

Such behavior violates what becomes a crucial theme, as these events proceed: Zeus’ Law, the “guest friendship” decree that decrees how hosts should and should not act, and requires them to treat all guests with respect.

Enola Holmes 3: Elementary, dear reader

Enola Holmes 3 (2026) • View trailer

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

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

This series continues to delight on all levels.

 

Director Philip Barantini, new to the franchise, blends its many diverse elements with stylish élan. He’s rewarded, in this third entry, with fine performances from everybody in the cast: most notably star and co-producer Millie Bobby Brown, the driving force behind these stylish film adaptations of Nancy Springer’s popular books.

 

During a flashback sequence, Enola (Millie Bobby Brown) recalls how surprised and
delighted she was, when Tewkesbury (Louis Partridge) proposed with an
improvised ring.

Over time, Sherlock Holmes’ world has been blessed with both faithful film and television adaptations of Doyle’s famed stories, and all manner of book and film pastiches and alternate universe twists on the original characters. It’s a testament to the adroit flexibility of Doyle’s characters, and the tolerant devotion of his fans, that so many of these what-ifs have been successful.

That’s certainly true of Enola (Brown), the 20 years younger sister of Sherlock Holmes (Henry Cavill, also reprising his ongoing role). In this telling, as faithfully adapted by scripter Jack Thorne, Enola was raised from a young age by their uncharacteristically feisty, free-thinking and mildly eccentric mother, Eudoria (the apparently ageless Helena Bonham Carter, also returning).

 

Eudoria ensured that Enola would be both book-educated and taught to be sharply observant, resourceful and able to take care of herself, thanks to jiu-jitsu self-defensive skills. Enola also became adept at puzzles and word games; indeed, her unusual name is “alone” backwards, a reflection of the fact that most people she encounters refuse to take her seriously.

 

The first film — based on Springer’s first novel, Enola Holmes and the Case of the Missing Marquess —  introduced all of these elements, threw Enola into her first case, and concluded with older brother Sherlock grudgingly acknowledging her detective skills. Thorne and co-scripter Harry Bradbeer veered away from Springer’s books for the second film, focusing instead on an actual historical event perfectly suited to Enola’s endeavors: Britain’s July 1888 matchgirls’ strike, which led to the creation of the Union of Women Matchmakers.

 

Thorne once again dips into established history for this third film, which cheekily removes Enola and Sherlock from their comfortable London setting.

 

“Every good story starts with a wedding,” Enola pertly tells us, as the film begins, once again breaking the fourth wall: one of this series’ many hallmarks. She continues to do so as the story proceeds, frequently pausing to address us directly, or to shoot us a knowing glance. This succeeds because of Brown’s skill with Thorne’s well-scripted dialogue, thus drawing us intimately into these events, as if we’re long-trusted allies.

 

The wedding is her own, to beloved Lord Tewkesbury, Marquis of Basilwether (Louis Partridge, also returning). He has matured from the callow, useless young man of the first film, and now has become a seasoned orator and rabble-rousing member of Parliament, doing his best to move the needle on social and gender equality.

 

Somewhat unexpectedly, their wedding is taking place in Malta, thanks to a suggestion made by Tewkesbury’s mother (Hattie Morahan), who believes this an important acknowledgment of her late husband’s military career.

Moana: It’s déjà vu all over again...

Moana (2026) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five); rated PG, for action peril, scary images and rude humor

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.12.26

The window between Disney’s animated features and these semi-live-action remakes seems to be shortening, given that Moana 2 sailed into theaters just two years ago. This new film’s arrival feels somewhat cynical: driven more by corporate greed than art.

 

Resolutely embracing her destiny, Moana (Catherine Laga'aia) bravely sets sail, to restore
order to what has become an existential ecological threat to her people. Fortunately,
she won't be alone for too long...

But if the enthusiastic crowd for Wednesday evening’s sold-out preview is any indication, this new version of Moana will be a monster hit anyway. (Pun intended.)

It’s easy to see why. The characters are engaging, well defined and capably portrayed; the Pacific island setting is colorful and laden with captivating cultural touches; the focus on female empowerment is always welcome; and the underlying message of caring for the fragile interconnectedness of nature is a lesson that bears constant repeating these days.

 

All this said, the first half of Jared Bush and Dana Ledoux Miller’s script is far more satisfying than the second half, during which the ubiquitous songs also become more intrusive.

 

Matters totally jump the shark when the giant crab Tamatoa (voiced by Jemaine Clement, as he did in the original) unexpectedly bursts into song. This essentially is a retread of the sea witch Ursula’s similar expository sequence in 1989’s The Little Mermaid, but her song — “Poor Unfortunate Souls” — was laced with genuine menace, as was Ursula herself.

 

Tamatoa is nothing more than tedious comic relief, which destroys this film story’s flow.

 

But that comes later. Events begin during a prologue, as the shape-shifting trickster demigod Maui (Dwayne Johnson) steals the bright green, emerald-like heart of Te Fiti, the life-giving mother island goddess who embodies creation. The insufferably cocky and narcissistic Maui does so under the belief that it will win him love and adoration, when in fact he has unleashed a terrible darkness.

 

One thousand years later, we meet the jovial, hard-working denizens of the island Motunui, during a marvelously choreographed dance sequence set to the lively song “Tulou Tagaloa.” This community is ruled by Chief Tui (John Tui), who with his wife Sina (Frankie Adams) are the doting parents of 4-year-old Moana (Emma Puahi-Shapazian, in these early scenes).

 

The little girl has a strong attachment to the ocean, whose waters respond in kind; they part one morning, to reveal a brightly colored shell. She retrieves it; the waters part to reveal another ... and, then, the missing heart of Te Fiti. But she’s suddenly snatched up by her father, who warns Moana to resist the lure of the ocean, because his people have learned never to travel beyond the island’s surrounding reef.

 

The heart is left behind, swallowed again by the sea. (Or is it?)

 

Minions & Monsters: Almost overwhelming

Minions & Monsters (2026) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five); rated PG, for animated violent action and rude/macabre humor

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.5.26

Minions features always have felt less like a coherent film, and more like a randomly assorted collection of sight gags, but this one is particularly scattershot.

 

(It’s no accident that the Minions work best in cartoon shorts.)

 

Although the slyly duplicitous Goomi (the little green guy) has promised Minions James,
Henry and Ed that they'll find their desired monsters in a long-abandoned island cave,
getting there proves ... a bit hazardous.

On top of which, contrary to expectations raised by its title, the crucial monsters don’t appear until way past the halfway point.

Prior to that, writers Pierre Coffin and Brian Lynch have fun dumping the little yellow troublemakers into silent-era Hollywood, where they skewer — or reference — every iconic moment made famous by the likes of George Méliès, Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, Harold Lloyd and countless others.

 

(I do wonder, though ... will such material resonate with today’s moviegoers?)

 

The stage is set when the current Universal Pictures logo halts during mid-presentation, scrolls backwards, and then zips through its previous versions until arriving at the late 19th century dawn of cinema, with crudely animated, monochromatic Minions dancing on the screen.

 

The story proper begins as perky tour guide Olivia (voiced by Allison Janney) leads a group through a vast display of movie memorabilia. Sight gags abound even here, as a glass booth honoring George Lucas unexpectedly contains Lucas himself, trapped without his phone (and gamely voiced by Lucas).

 

Olivia builds to her big reveal of the two most famous figures in the entire museum: Minions James and Henry ... wholly unrecognized by anybody in the group. Appalled by this display of ignorance, Olivia begins an incredible saga that reveals how the official history of cinema is much weirder than what anybody has been taught.

 

The story begins in territory lifted from 2015’s Minions, as tribes of Minions voyage the Earth in prehistoric times, seeking to serve the world’s most despicable masters. One group, led by the disciplined and impatient Dick, has brief encounters with a massive, home-stomping cyclops and a Renaissance-era wizard.

 

Alas, in each case the impish, unfocused and invariably destructive Minions accidentally kill their temporary masters.

 

The imaginative James can’t keep his head in the game; much to Dick’s annoyance, he’s too busy drawing fantastical pictures of encounters with lurid monsters. (James doesn’t know it yet, but he’s in the process of inventing storyboards.) James therefore is shunned by the other Minions, with the exception of the loyal Henry, and the warm-hearted, hearing-impaired Ed, both of whom become best friends. (One struggles to imagine the finer points of Minion sign language.)

Supergirl: A wobbly flight

Supergirl (2024) • View trailer

Three stars (out of five); rated PG-13, for strong action violence and occasional profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

In and of itself, the notion that Kara-El (Milly Alcock) has become a self-destructive tear-away is appropriately poignant.

 

Kara (Milly Alcock, left) repeatedly tries to protect Ruthye (Eve Ridley), by insisting that
she remain safe, but the plucky, sword-wielding young woman refuses to be left behind.

Unlike her older cousin Kal-El (Superman), who had the benefit of loving step-parents and a pastoral Midwestern upbringing, Kara’s backstory is laden with emotionally crippling tragedy (and is faithful to established Super-family lore). No surprise, then, that she spends most of her time on red-sun planets, where her powers are erased, enabling her to indulge in rash behavior and endless drunken binges.

(That said, the notion that she wasn’t killed long ago, while hanging out amid such ill-advised company, is the first sign of trouble in Ana Nogueira’s lamentably uneven and illogical script.)

 

Kara’s current multi-day bender is prompted by her 23rd birthday, an occasion that merely reminds her of the long-gone friends and family members no longer able to celebrate with her.

 

Meanwhile...

 

Elsewhere on Holzherr, the red sun planet where Kara has made her home, Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts) — the savage, remorseless leader of the vicious, Viking-like Brigand scavengers — gleefully murders weapons craftsman Elias (Ferdinand Kingsley), his wife Delilah (Emily Piggford) and their son Edmond (Bruce Lennox), while younger daughter Ruthye (Eve Ridley) watches in horror.

 

By activating booby traps, Elias destroys Krem’s ship before being cut down. The killer and his remaining men trudge away, certain of finding some alternative means of transportation.

 

Since we later learn that Krem and his all-male Brigands have been kidnapping young women, in order to force them to bear male children, it makes no sense that Krem fails to snatch Ruthye on the spot ... and yet he doesn’t. (Let’s call this the second of the many awkward hiccups raised by Nogueira’s sloppy script.)

 

While getting happily blasted at her favorite local pub, Kara is surprised when the grimly determined Ruthye shows up, offering her father’s sole remaining sword to any mercenary willing to help her track down Krem.

 

This alien-laden setting is a cross between Australian Outback pub, East Asian dive bar and Western American saloon, and laden with ooky aliens that make Star Wars’ Mos Eisley Cantina look like a kindergarten class. No surprise, one of the largest and ugliest pubgoers simply snatches the sword, irritating Kara enough to demand its return ... with predictably violent results.

 

But wait ... red sun planet, remember? Kara has no powers, yet we’re supposed to believe that this 5-foot-5 twentysomething slip of a woman could defeat such a huge pug-ugly? (Shall we call this the script’s third awkward hiccup?)

 

Color Book: An exquisite character piece

Color Book (2024) • View trailer

4.5 stars (out of five); rated R, for occasional profanity

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.28.26

Writer/director David Fortune’s sensitively assembled little film completely erases the divide between viewer and screen; from the very first frame, it feels more like eavesdropping on two actual people.

 

Although this day begins with the excitement of attending an Atlanta Braves baseball
game, the journey for Mason (Jeremiah Alexander Davis, left) and Lucky (William
Catlett) will have unexpected hiccups.

This is a quiet story, constructed from a series of tender little moments that develop into an emotion-laden journey. Following a brief prologue, events take place during a single day. The characters are so well constructed, the performances so lovely, authentic and perfectly modulated, that we’re wholly immersed.

And, at times, genuinely worried.

 

The setting is present-day Atlanta, in a poorer part of the city. Lucky (William Catlett) and his adolescent son Mason (Jeremiah Alexander Daniels) are emotionally damaged, still grieving the unexpected loss of Lucky’s wife, and the boy’s mother, Tammy (Brandee Evans, in a few fleeting flashback sequences).

 

Mason has Down syndrome; we meet him early one morning, as he painstakingly strings beads. Lucky helps the boy into formal clothing; they make waffles. Lucky involves his son in the process; Mason pays careful attention, although he’s clearly more excited about the finished product. 

 

This film’s title reflects how Mason spends much of his time illustrating his thoughts via drawings in a coloring book, which gives the boy a secondary method of “speaking” to his father, and to us.

 

Lucky and Mason join friends in a nearby park, for a celebration of Tammy’s life: an initially somber but ultimately cheerful gathering, as everybody shares memories. Mason, fixated by the large cluster of balloons, is given one as this service concludes; he happily clings to it.

 

As everybody departs, Lucky’s friend Rico (rapper Kia Shine Coleman), connected with the Atlanta Braves, gives them tickets to the following evening’s game at Truist Park. Back at home, Lucky helps Mason into bed, reminding the boy to say his prayers before slipping under the covers.

 

Lucky’s bearing, speech and gaze bespeak more than anguish; he’s also exhausted, in body and spirit, from the constant care and attention that Mason requires. This formerly was a responsibility shared with Tammy, but her absence has placed this loving burden solely on Lucky’s shoulders.

 

No resentment is present. Catlett makes it clear that Lucky cherishes his son, attending to the boy with a tender patience resulting from long experience. Even so, this has taken a toll, exacerbated by the day’s activities.

 

And the following day begins on a worse note.

I Am Frankelda: Dazzling, but uneven

I Am Frankelda (2025) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five); rated PG, for dramatic intensity, scary images and fantasy violence

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

The imagination, craft and world-building in this fantasy — Mexico’s very first stop-motion animated feature — are off the chart.

 

I wish similar attention had been paid to the story.

 

After allowing her conscious self to be transported to Topus Terrentus (the Realm of
Terrors), Frankelda hopes that her lurid imagination will be enough to save
Prince Herneval's realm.

Even so, brothers Arturo and Roy Ambriz, who share writing and directing chores, have orchestrated a dazzling saga that plays on the (supposedly) thin line that separates reality from fantasy, truth from fiction. Neither can exist without the other.

The narrative is laden with 19th century Mexican culture, Day of the Dead folklore, creation myths and visual nods to the unsettling paintings of Leonora Carrington and Remedios Varo.

 

Art fans also will smile at the film’s opening tableau: a fantasy-hued nod to Rodin’s massive bronze sculpture, The Gates of Hell.

 

The result feels like a mash-up of Pixar’s Coco, Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth, Henry Selick’s adaptation of Coraline, and Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride, Frankenweenie and Nightmare Before Christmas. That’s no surprise, since the brothers admitted — in a recent Los Angeles Times interview — that their lives changed after seeing a VHS version of the latter.

 

A lengthy prologue — set in 1866, in Mexico’s Real del Monte — introduces Francisca Imelda (voiced by Habana Zoé), an imaginative little girl who hopes to become a published author. We meet her on the sad day that her mother — who paints lovely landscapes — falls ill with what kills her soon thereafter.

 

This initial sequence is amazingly lush, despite the limitations of stop-motion work. The girl and her mother stand in a gorgeous field of swaying grass and flowers, with small creatures — a lizard and rabbit — hovering in the background. Tears flow from the girl’s eyes, when her mother collapses.

 

To comfort herself, Francisca writes fantastical stories about Herneval, the “Prince of Terrors” in Topus Terrentus (Realm of the Terrors). The girl’s grandmother, with whom she now lives, disdains this useless waste of time. The waspish old hag makes Francisca spend her days like a wage slave: cleaning up, darning clothes and every other chore demanded of her.

 

Unbeknownst to Francisca — and all human beings — Topus Terrentus and Herneval (Jules Presley) are real: He’s the son of King Ficturo (Beto Castillo) and Queen Veritena (Gabriela Cárdenas). All three resemble a regal cross between human beings and birds of prey.

 

Their realm is home to all of humanity’s fears; when Ficturo plays the immense harpspider — which connects to our Realm of Existence — he shapes human consciousness. The denizens of Topus Terrentus, in turn, are kept alive by the power of humanity’s nightmares.

 

Unfortunately, humans have become too sophisticated for the nighttime visions created by Procustes (Luis Leonardo Suárez) the Royal Nightmare Maker. His efforts have grown tired, stale and clichéd.

Toy Story 5: Absolutely perfect

Toy Story 5 (2026) • View trailer

Five stars (out of five); rated PG, for mild rude humor

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.21.26

The Toy Story franchise has been a marvel since the first film’s 1995 debut.

 

This fifth entry is the best thus far: a bold statement, considering the quality, imagination, voice talent, carefully sculpted characters, sentimentality and heart that long have been this series’ hallmark.

 

When an angry Jessie insists that newcomer Lilypad is useless with respect to helping
Bonnie make new friends, the quick-thinking tablet briskly signs up the little girl with
three schoolmates ... in a chat room.

Ah, but this one adds an oh-so-timely new element: topicality.

Andrew Stanton and McKenna Harris, sharing writing and directing chores, have challenged these beloved characters with an existential threat: impending irrelevance, due to the competitive, soul-sucking arrival of (gasp, shudder) screens.

 

Woody, Buzz, Jessie and all the other toys have long cherished their crucial role in helping young owners nurture their imaginations, while also shaping their social skills. When one owner successfully “grows up,” the toys are passed along to another, as when college-bound Andy lovingly introduced his toy friends to young Bonnie, at the end of Toy Story 3.

 

But the increasingly ubiquitous tablets threaten to break that chain, which our heroes aren’t about to tolerate. They’ve no desire to mimic Puff the Magic Dragon, who “sadly slipped into his cave.”

 

Although this story gives everybody plenty of screen time, Jessie is the focus. Cusack deftly conveys this character’s huge emotional arc.

 

That said, this film opens on a disorienting and unexpected note. Buzz Lightyear (voiced by Tim Allen) wakens in a strange place, during a dark and stormy night. Waves crash on a debris-strewn beach. He spots a huge, damaged container several yards away, apparently having fallen off a passing ship. 

 

Peering inside, he spots 49 more Buzz Lightyears. He activates them; they assemble en masse to scout the island. Sharp-eyed viewers might notice a fleeting glimpse of their spacesuit decals: “Hi-Tech Edition.”

 

(Hold that thought.)

 

Uncertain of their location, unsure of what to do, they equate a blazing star in the nighttime sky with their venerable “Star Command” ... and, hastily assembling a raft, set off to reach it.

 

Meanwhile...

 

Bonnie (Scarlett Spears) happily plays with her toys, putting them through adventures that (for the first time) we “see” through her imaginative eyes. The visual style of these playtime sequences are wholly different: a pastel, tactile, chalk-drawing technique that evokes animated child’s drawings. The impact is sweet, vibrant and mirthfully silly.

 

This gaggle of toys, led by Jessie and Buzz, includes her faithful horse Bullseye, Rex (Wallace Shawn), Mr. Potato Head (Jeff Bergman), Slinky Dog (Blake Clark), Forky (Tony Hale) and many other familiar faces.

 

Woody (Tom Hanks), Bo Peep (Annie Potts) and Combat Carl (Ernie Hudson) are elsewhere at the moment.

 

Disclosure Day: The truth is out there

Disclosure Day (2026) • View trailer

4.5 stars (out of five); rated R, for action violence, gruesome images and some profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.14.26 

This is 1977’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind writ very large.

 

Director Steven Spielberg’s original story — fleshed out by skilled genre screenwriter David Koepp — hits the ground running, and trusts viewers to catch up.

 

Despite being surrounded by shadowy agents with orders to apprehend them, each
one unexpectedly steps aside as Margaret (Emily Blunt) and Daniel (Josh O'Connor)
slowly walk toward potential freedom.

The film opens suspensefully on a late-night hostage swap. Dr. Daniel Kellner (Josh O’Connor) apparently stole something quite valuable from Noah Scanlon (Colin Firth), head of WARDEX — “Waived Reporting, Development and Extraction” — a shadowy Department of Defense contractor that apparently answers to nobody. 

This is made clear by the fact that Casper Boyd (Henry Lloyd-Hughes), Scanlon’s go-to “dirty work” field agent, kidnapped Daniel’s girlfriend, Jane (Eve Hewson), in order to facilitate this exchange. It looks fairly cut and dried ... until Daniel raises a small, slender, metallic bipyramid that he holds in one carefully gloved hand.

 

Scanlon and all of his black-garbed associates carefully back away.

 

Daniel and Jane flee, which kicks off the first of this film’s several pell-mell chase sequences. They manage to escape, much to Scanlon’s vexation. (Firth displays an impressive level of barely controlled rage.) But how can they stayhidden, given all the high-tech surveillance resources available to Scanlon? 

 

Meanwhile...

 

Chirpy Kansas City KCXE-TV news meteorologist Margaret Fairchild (Emily Blunt), after completing a day’s work, returns home to boyfriend Jackson (Wyatt Russell), a low-stress musician and Fruit Loops-loving Everyman. The following morning, before she leaves for the morning shift, they’re startled when a red cardinal flies in an open window and perches on the kitchen table. 

 

And stares at her. She stares back, trance-like, Blunt’s expression suddenly a blank, wordless slate.

 

Shaking herself from this fugue, she rushes off to work. After arriving at KCXE, she suddenly starts speaking in foreign languages ... including, as this scene’s uneasy atmosphere builds, a series of guttural clicks, burps and grunts that don’t sound the slightest bit human.

 

Shortly thereafter, she feels a strange, strong pull to go “somewhere else,” much to Jackson’s bewilderment. Somewhere north. 

 

Throughout scenes with these two sets of characters, disturbing radio reports and TV news broadcasts warn of the rapidly increasing probability of a world-wide nuclear war. The threat level jumps to DEFCON 2.