The Dink: An uneven rally

The Dink (2026) • View trailer

Three stars (out of five); rated PG-13, for occasional profanity and plenty of sexual vulgarity

Available via: Apple TV+

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.2.26

File this one under “Silly, but fun.”

 

I’ve been waiting for filmmakers to embrace the rapidly expanding explosion of pickleball, and director Josh Greenbaum and scripter Sean Clements have treated this new sport pastime with a blend of humor and good-natured ribbing.

 

Much to his surprise, washed-up tennis pro Dusty (Jake Johnson) begins to enjoy
pickleball, thanks in great part to the kindness and encouragement of Candace
(Mary Steenburgen), his regular partner.

While, sadly, making a few fouls along the way. (About which, more in a moment.)

From the moment he could hold a tennis racket — age 3 — Dusty Boyd was groomed and trained by his father, Chuck (Ed Harris), to become a skilled, forceful and unrelenting tennis pro. By age 17 (now played by Nathan Blair), laden with a roomful of trophies, he had earned the nickname for which he would henceforth be known: “The Hammer.”

 

Then, catastrophe: Following a climactic, hard-fought match against the similarly talented Andy Roddick (Cooper Woestendick), Dusty miscalculated a cocky jump over the net ... and his career was over.

 

Cut to the present day.

 

Dusty (now Jake Johnson), still driving his beloved 1999 Buick LeSabre,  has been reduced to coaching children at Chuck’s tennis club. Dusty has been recounting his flashback rise and fall to a pair of adolescents who couldn’t possibly care less (played with eye-rolling, long-suffering-sigh perfection by Indiana Elle and Cayden Romero).

 

Alas, change is in the wind. Chuck already has granted two of his courts to the demands of local pickleball enthusiasts (the two courts most in need of repair, it should be noted). He’s finding it increasingly difficult to ignore the group’s earnest spokesman, Skip (Patton Oswalt), who wants more courts ... and his well-researched arguments are starting to gain traction. 

 

In an effort to silence Skip, Chuck proposes a winner-take-all pickleball match between each group’s best player. Dusty — insisting that he’s now fully healed, and still desperate to prove himself in his father’s eyes — lobbies to be the club’s champion. Chuck reluctantly agrees, and Dusty throws himself into training ... and, naturally, reaggravates his original wound, and is forced to step down.

 

To add insult to injury — literally — Dusty’s orthopedist (Ben Stiller) prescribes pickleball as the perfect “soft contact” activity to help him heal again. 

 

And, so, Dusty reluctantly joins a gaggle of “pickle pals” on their court one day. He’s partnered with Candace (Mary Steenburgen) in a match against the feisty Gail and Judy (Cleo King and Lynne Marie, both a total hoot). They relentlessly talk smack and taunt Dusty during the calamity of his first attempt at the game, as he repeatedly tries to employ knock-it-over-the-bleachers power returns, instead of the necessary gentler touch ... and whiffs every time.

 

Ella McCay: Savvy dramedy showcases a star on the rise

Ella McCay(2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for occasional profanity and fleeing drug content

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang 

We don’t often get to witness such an extraordinary, star-making performance, but that’s certainly the case here.

 

(I vividly recall watching Emma Stone, in 2010’s rather modest Easy A, and knowing — with certainty — that she’d go far.)

 

When her father, Eddie (Woody Harrelson), once again lives down to lowest expectations,
Ella (Emma Mackey, center) has no time to react before her Aunt Helen (Jamie Lee
Curtis) — Eddie's sister — threatens to throttle him.

Actually, it’s not entirely fair to call Ella McCay a breakout role for star Emma Mackey — or Emma Margaret Marie Tachard-Mackey, to use her mellifluous full name — since she already made significant waves in the British 2019-23 TV series Sex Education. Even so, seeing her wholly inhabit this big-screen character — with every word, gesture, expression, flip of her hair and sideways glance so perfectly delivered — is enchanting.

Credit where due, Mackey is matched — scene for scene, moment for moment — by an equally riveting (and hilarious) performance by co-star Jamie Lee Curtis.

 

Writer/director James L. Brooks’ political-hued dramedy is an intentional throwback to classic, socially conscious screwball comedies such as His Girl Friday, Mr. Deeds Goes to Town and Sullivan’s Travels … but with a modern spin that reflects contemporary bureaucratic intransience. On top of which, Brooks also paints a deeply intimate portrait of estranged family dynamics and the difficulty of navigating — let alone moving beyond — festering old wounds.

 

The story is narrated by Julie Kavner — her gravelly voice immortalized forever as Marge Simpson — who cheekily breaks the fourth wall, during her introduction, to inform us of her role. Ella McCay (Mackey) debuts in mid-flurry, as a poised, caring, idealistic, ambitious and highly intelligent 34-year-old who happens to be Lt. Governor of an unidentified state. (Filming took place throughout Rhode Island.)

 

We’re scarcely given time to digest this, when her friend and mentor, affectionately known as Governor Bill (Albert Brooks), reveals that he has just accepted a cabinet position in the forthcoming presidential administration. He immediately resigns, leaving a breathless Ella to serve as governor for the remaining 14 months of his term.

 

However … with a little help from our narrator …

 

… we’re also whisked back in time, to Ella’s 16-year-old self, confronted by yet another extramarital scandal involving her father, Eddie (Woody Harrelson). It’s a crucial moment, and everybody is dressed to perfection; Eddie expects his family to stand united, at his side, as he confronts the reporters waiting outside the front door of their home.

The Baltimorons: Quirky and adorable

The Baltimorons (2025) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for profaity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

Director Jay Duplass’ offbeat little charmer isn’t merely a rom-com focused on two lonely people who deserve better out of life; it’s also a love letter to Baltimore ... specifically, Baltimore on Christmas Eve.

 

Having navigated a string of minor crises, if not always gracefully — with more to come —
Cliff (Michael Strassner) and Didi (Liz Larsen) take a few minutes to stroll along a
gaily decorated neighborhood street.

No surprise, since Duplass co-wrote the script with Michael Strassner, who regards the city as his home turf.

As one-half of Duplass Brothers Productions, Jay and sibling Mark have delivered a string of off-beat indie films and television series, wearing multiple hats as directors, producers, writers and even actors. This is the first film Jay has directed in more than a decade.

 

He certainly hasn’t lost his touch.

 

The Baltimorons has echoes of Martin Scorsese’s darkly comic 1985 farce, After Hours, but with several key distinctions. Duplass’ touch here is much kinder and gentler, and the two primary characters are warm and relatable.

 

If not necessarily right away.

 

The saga opens with a fleeting prologue shocker, as an obviously inebriated Cliff (Michael Strassner) clumsily attempts to take his life. 

 

Flash-forward half a year, to early Christmas Eve, as a now-sober Cliff makes plans to spend the day with the family of his fiancée, Brittany (Olivia Luccardi). She obviously has the patience of a saint, having nurtured and stood by him after the earlier crisis; that said, she’s also the worst sort of helicopter companion, monitoring his every choice and move, ensuring that he never again gets near any alcohol.

 

She even tracks his phone, and immediately calls if he’s not where she thinks he should be.

 

Luccardi plays her as compassionate and well-meaning, but also much too pushy. We understand her concern, but at the same time wince at her smothering attentiveness.

 

Poor Cliff, still guilty over what he put her through, accepts this hovering because he feels it’s the right thing to do ... but he’s clearly miserable. As introduced, Strassner makes him a large, forlorn teddy bear: shoulders slumped, morose expressions, forced smiles and wisecracks rather than serious conversations.

 

He comes by the latter naturally, since his longtime love is improv comedy. But Brittany has made him give that up, since it went hand-in-hand with his alcoholism; by way of catering to the demand that he find something else to do, Cliff is studying to be a mortgage broker. (Like that’ll ever happen.)

 

The point is, she’s forcing him to become something he finds alien ... and that isn’t a recipe for lifetime happiness.

Everything's Going to Be Great: Well ... not quite

Everything's Going to Be Great (2025) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for partial nudity, sexual candor and frequent profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other video-on-demand options

By Derrick Bang

Folks passionate about All Things Theater — amateur or professional — are guaranteed to adore this modest Canadian dramedy.

 

Everybody else ... likely not. 

 

After a particularly trying day at school, Les (Benjamin Evan Ainsworth) receives some
encouraging — if typically quite unusual — advice from his father, Buddy (Brian Cranston).

Director Jon S. Baird’s flamboyant touch approaches burlesque at times, and mainstream folks may find star Bryan Cranston’s character totally annoying. It’s also hard to forgive the unexpected midpoint hiccup in Steven Rogers’ script, after which the film loses considerable steam, never to be regained.

The year is 1989, the initial setting Akron, Ohio. Carefree Buddy Smart (Cranston) has led his family through a series of temporary theater management jobs ever since marrying his wife, Macy (Allison Janney), two decades ago. Everybody pitches in, whether serving as stage manager, prop handler, ticket seller or accepting roles in the current production.

 

Trouble is, they’ve never been successful enough to remain in one place for long, after which it’s on to the next small-town theater seeking new management.

 

The indefatigable Buddy is a relentless cheerleader nonetheless, insisting that this time will be different; they’ll finally make it; and so forth. Every time the clearly overwhelmed Macy points to the grim result from their failure to put enough warm bodies in theater seats, Buddy brushes her off by insisting, “Everything’s going to be great.”

 

In a word, he’s exhausting ... but Cranston, so adept at body movement and well-timed dialogue, makes him endearingly exhausting. Most of the time.

 

Younger son Les (Benjamin Evan Ainsworth), who worships his father, is fully on board; he’s a pretentious kid given to exaggerated outfits, with a tendency to quote lines from plays. During moments of confusion or crisis, he receives advice from dead thespians and playwrights such as Noël Coward, Ruth Gordon, Tallulah Bankhead and William Inge (each amusingly played by, respectively, Mark Caven, Chick Reid, Laura Benanti and David MacLean).

 

To say that Les stands out from his classmates is the worst of understatements; he may as well have the word “nerd” tattooed on his forehead.

 

“They don’t get me,” he glumly says to his father, at one point. No kidding.

The Phoenician Scheme: Droll lunacy

The Phoenician Scheme (2025) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for violence, bloody images and mild sexual material

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

Whether working with actors or animation, writer/director Wes Anderson is his own unique brand of crazy.

 

When everything clicks — as with The Grand Budapest Hotel, Isle of Dogs, Moonrise Kingdom and Fantastic Mr. Fox— the results are imaginatively marvelous.

 

Yet another in-flight assassination attempt forces Zsa-Zsa Korda (Benicio Del Toro, left) to
take control of the plane, while Liesl (Mia Threapleton) and Bjorn (Michael Cera) watch
with mounting horror.

But when Anderson’s signature tics and mannerisms overwhelm the material — see Asteroid City, The French Dispatch and The Darjeeling Limited — we’re left with something dire and (for many viewers) utterly unwatchable.

This one’s somewhere in between.

 

For starters, it’s refreshing to see that Anderson and co-writer Roman Coppola have delivered an actual plot that drives the wacky action (something sorely missed in Asteroid City). Granted, it’s a dog-nuts plot, but it makes sense, and gives the primary characters genuine motivation. 

 

Anderson also tackles some weighty concepts along the way: legacy, mortality and the final reckoning that results from one’s confrontation with God.

 

God, of course, is played by Bill Murray. Who else?

 

The art direction and production design — by Stephan O. Gessler and Adam Stockhausen, respectively — are spectacular. The latter has worked on every Anderson film since 2012’s Moonrise Kingdom, and he won a well-deserved Academy Award for The Grand Budapest Hotel.

 

The wildly distinctive look of an Anderson film has become legendary. His characters inhabit often static environments that sometimes feel like gigantic doll houses, with theatrical-style backdrops and finely tuned details that don’t quite exist in our workaday world: more like hyper-reality. Anderson favors color schemes in earth tones and soft pastels, which — in this case — occasionally are interrupted by Heaven’s blindingly white monochrome.

 

Cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel constantly plays with cockeyed camera angles and forced perspective; one early sequence is entirely a ceiling’s-eye view.

 

All of this establishes another of Anderson’s highly mannered, theater-of-the-absurd narratives: a style you’ll either embrace as cheerfully silly ... or dismiss as ludicrous.

 

The time is the 1950s. Zsa-Zsa Korda (a hilariously deadpan Benicio del Toro), a notorious plutocrat industrialist loathed throughout the world, is introduced mid-flight, as a bomb explodes in the rear of his private plane. He survives the subsequent crash: the sixth recent attempt on his life by unknown parties.

 

His gargantuan business empire also is under threat via financial scrutiny and political pressure, most particularly — at the moment — his complex “Phoenician Scheme”: an interlocking series of railway, shipping, mining and agricultural ventures designed to dominate a (fictitious) Middle Eastern country. This venture has been jeopardized by the U.S. government’s market-manipulating act to exponentially increase the cost of the “bashable rivets” necessary for all elements of Korda’s complicated plan.

 

He therefore must persuade each of his investors to accept less profit than contractually promised; each meeting becomes its own distinctive chapter.

The Ballad of Wallis Island: Rhapsodic

The Ballad of Wallis Island (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, and too harshly, for brief profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

You just can’t beat our cousins across the pond, when it comes to quirky dramedies.

 

This one comes from the inventive minds of co-writers Tom Basden and Tim Key, who also play the two leading roles. They’ve expanded their BAFTA-nominated 2007 short — The One and Only Herb McGwyer Plays Wallis Island — into this even more beguiling feature-length film.

 

Seeking a way to bridge the awkwardness still present between them, Herb (Tom Basden,
left) encourages Nell (Carey Mulligan) and Charles (Tim Key) to make sky lanterns,
and set them aloft with a private wish.

The premise is hilarious, the execution note-perfect, and the unusually isolated setting an important character in its own right.

The story begins as international music superstar Herb McGwyer (Basden), having agreed to do a private gig on a remote island off the Welsh coast, arrives just off-shore his destination ... following a long trip in a small motorboat. Baffled by the absence of a dock, faced with having to wade the rest of the way, Herb makes matters worse by falling out of the boat and getting thoroughly drenched.

 

He's nonetheless greeted enthusiastically by his host, Charles Heath (Key), who compounds Herb’s perplexity with a ceaseless barrage of apologies, words of adulation, non-sequiturs, poor attempts at humor, and otherwise meaningless idle chatter. (Prepare yourself for a barrage of bad puns.)

 

Herb is further annoyed/confused to discover that they need to walk the several miles to the opulent hotel where he’ll stay ... which happens to be Charles’ home.

 

Its architectural opulence — compounded by touches of whimsy — is breathtaking. (It’s actually Derwydd Mansion, a Tudor-style property dating back to the 15th century.)

 

The décor is period by way of the occasionally bizarre, decorated by somebody with far more money than taste. Kudos to production designer Alexandra Toomey and her team, who filled the vast spaces with items sourced from antique marts and trunk sales.

 

Along the way, Herb has tried repeatedly to get details about where he’ll perform, and for how many people, and so forth. Charles curiously deflects all such questions, until Herb — understandably — finally gets a bit frosty.

 

Turns out that Charles — more than a little eccentric, and a massive fan-boy — is a millionaire many times over, having won the national lottery twice. This allowed him to fill his home with every bit of McGwyer memorabilia he could find, and buy himself the ultimate fan collectible: a concert. For one person. Himself.

Tokyo Cowboy: Round it up!

Tokyo Cowboy (2023) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, for fleeting mild profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

I’ve been waiting for this one since last summer.

 

Despite its distributor’s claims of theatrical release, Tokyo Cowboy never made it to the Northern California market, and evidence suggests only a few film festival appearances. Streaming options also took longer than usual, but patience has been rewarded.

 

Having thus far failed to impress anybody at the Lazy River Ranch, Hideki (Arata Iura)
is surprised when Javier (Goya Robles) offers a genuine sign of friendship.

It does not disappoint.

Scripters Dave Boyle and Ayako Fujitani have concocted a marvelous premise that revolves around a hopeless culture clash: a quiet, slow-burn dramedy that is — by turns — aggravating, frustrating, and gently amusing. It also speaks volumes about how wildly contrasting people must forge a common bond ... and be willing to do so.

 

On top of which, a great moral: Sometimes true happiness can be found only when we’re brave enough to step outside our comfort zone.

 

Marc Marriott — in a sparkling feature directorial debut — maintains just the right tone, and elicits delicately shaded performances from everybody, even those in fleeting supporting roles.

 

Hideki Sakai (Arata Iura) has built a career as a Japanese corporate turnaround artist employed by Miki Holdings Ltd.: confident that he has the “secret sauce” to recharge any stagnant brand. He’s introduced as his company takes over the Matsuyama Handmade Chocolate company, where employees are shown carefully crafting candy delicacies made from the finest chocolate.

 

The elderly Mr. Matsuyama (Masashi Arifuku), lacking grandchildren to inherit his business, reluctantly relinquishes control as Hideki assures him that the company will be well chaperoned.

 

Uh-huh.

 

Within days, the cocoa is out-sourced to one of Miki’s holdings in Brazil, the product menu is slimmed down, artisan employees are replaced by a production line, the word “Handmade” is removed from the company name, and its previously attractive logo is replaced by an ugly blend of sharp lines and blobby colors  ... all of which cuts front-end expenses by 15 percent. 

 

(At what cost to the taste of the final product? That question has a delectably slow build and a great payoff.)

 

Miki’s corporate President Miwa (Ryô Iwamatsu) is pleased.

Superboys of Malegaon: A super hit!

Superboys of Malegaon (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for occasional profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

This is “Hey kids, let’s put on a show!” writ very large.

 

The emotional impact is augmented further by the fact that Bollywood director Reema Kagti’s charmer is based on actual events. The often rowdy result is thoroughly entertaining.

 

Nasir (Adarsh Gourav, second from right) tries for the best possible shot, while wielding
the camera with assistance from friends, from left, Shafique (Shashank Arora),
Nadeem (Ammol Kajani) and Farogh (Vineet Kumar Singh).

The year is 1997, the setting the primarily Islamic community of Malegaon, in the Nashik District of India’s Maharashtra State. A buoyant introductory montage, set against Sachin-Jigar’s jaunty score, introduces the story’s primary characters as they begin a typical day of work.

 

Wedding videographer Nasir (Adarsh Gourav), who operates out of a video parlor run by his older brother, is quick with an entrepreneurial hustle but prone to placing bets with money he doesn’t have. He’s often assisted by the handsome Nadeem (Anmol Kajani). 

 

Local journalist Farogh (Vineet Kumar Singh) composes poetry and aspires to become a screenwriter. The doleful Shafique (Shashank Arora), who works a loom in a sweatshop factory, never seems to smile.

 

Nasir’s staunchest advocate is Shabeena (Muskkaan Jaferi), who always has an encouraging word; alas, he doesn’t love her. Instead, he has long been sweet on Mallika (Riddhi Kumar), but her father never would allow his daughter to marry so lowly an individual. Even so, the two often sneak off to be together.

 

Nasir, Nadeem, Farogh, Shafique and several of their friends always are first in line, when a new Bollywood hit reaches their town. But Nasir, a rabid movie fan, takes it a step further; he screens silent films by Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton in the back room of his brother’s store ... but very few people come.

 

His “solution” is wildly audacious. Armed with a pair of VCRs, he blends the best scenes from those silent classics with kung fu footage from Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan movies, stitching the results into a sorta-kinda story laden with comedy and action. The result is a smash hit with the locals, who swarm the makeshift theater for repeat viewings ... until police officers smash everything, and warn Nasir to stop pirating.

 

Although dismayed by the ruins of his brother’s business, Nasir remains undeterred. His next scheme is even more brazen: a shot-for-shot, micro-budget remake of 1975’s Sholay, one of the biggest Bollywood action hits ever made, using solely local talent. He’ll call it Malegaon’s Sholay, in order to evade claims of piracy. 

 

Farogh loves this plan, since it will allow him to write the script ... but no, Nasir points out, there’s nothing to write, since they’ll simply follow the original movie’s template.

 

Our next movie will be an original, he promises.

Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy — Love's labors are delightfully messy

Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy (2025) • View trailer

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

Available via: Peacock

By Derrick Bang

I’d forgotten how much fun Helen Fielding’s ditzy singleton could be, when the author is at the top of her game.

 

When invited to share her job as a television producer during her son's classroom career
day, Bridget (Renée Zellweger) uses the opportunity to stage what becomes a revealing
"mock interview" with science teacher Scott Walker (Chiwetel Ejiofor).

This fourquel also brings the film series to a satisfying conclusion, since the previous entry — 2016’s Bridget Jones’ Baby — was such an unsatisfying detour.

The entire gang is back, and the script — by Fielding, Dan Mazer and Abi Morgan — is sharp, witty and laden with Bridget’s hilariously arch inner thoughts (which also become the diary entries that fueled Fielding’s first novel). Renée Zellweger still knows how to deliver a well-timed zinger, and her bemused, squinty expressions, head slightly cocked, are endearing.

 

This film’s surprise — for fans who’ve come to expect a light, frothy and playfully erotic tone — is its bittersweet atmosphere. 

 

As the story begins, Bridget is a sadder and wiser woman. She still mourns the loss of beloved husband Mark Darcy (Colin Firth), who was killed by a land mine in Sudan four years earlier, while negotiating the release of aid workers. She still “sees” him at telling moments (which gives Firth several significant and poignant scenes).

 

Bridget has withdrawn from life, to the extent a single parent of two young children can do so. She hasn’t socialized for any reason in ages. Her home is a mess; the refrigerator and grocery shelves are mostly empty; preparing meals is an exercise in unpalatable results; and she spends far too much time in pajamas. She also hasn’t worked for a long time (which makes one wonder what she and her children are living on).

 

Six-year-old Mabel (Mila Jankovic) is an irrepressible bundle of energy, laughter and noise; 10-year-old Billy (Casper Knopf), much quieter, withdraws into chess, science books and video games.

 

But a gathering to celebrate Mark’s life cannot be avoided, even though Bridget almost chickens out. Faithful friend and former lover Daniel Cleaver (Hugh Grant), willingly pressed into last-minute babysitting duties, laments that “You’re effectively a nun ... although a very naughty nun.”

 

(Seriously ... Bridget isn’t Bridget, without constant references to sex!)

Goodrich: An engaging family dramedy

Goodrich (2024) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, and perhaps too harshly, for profanity

Available via: MAX

By Derrick Bang

This seems to be “Memory Lane” season for Michael Keaton.

 

He resurrected his saucy demon in last summer’s Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, and this dramedy is a sorta-kinda reboot of 1983’s Mr. Mom.

 

Parenting isn't easy, as absentee dad Andy (Michael Keaton) discovers, when trying to
make up for lost time with his 9-year-old twins, Mose (Jacob Kopera) and Billie
(Vivien Lyra Blair).

But only sorta-kinda. Writer/director Hallie Meyers-Shyer eschews broad comedy strokes in favor of gentler, kinder humor that arises organically from her story’s plot beats.

That said, Keaton is inherently, effortlessly funny, even when dialed down; this has been obvious since his breakout supporting role in 1982’s Night Shift. His signature smirky grin is disarming; the recipient never knows whether a joke is being playfully shared, or if he’s the victim of the zinger.

 

Here, though, that twitchy smile is a reflexive self-defense mechanism, designed to conceal true feelings ... which is at the heart of the title character’s failings.

 

Andy Goodrich (Keaton) is a 60-year-old Los Angeles art dealer. He’s always taking calls, courting the next Hot Talent, and working long hours at his boutique gallery in order to prepare an upcoming installation ... all at the expense of spending time with his much younger wife, Naomi (Laura Benanti), and two 9-year-old twins, Billie (Vivien Lyra Blair) and Mose (Jacob Kopera).

 

The film begins as a phone call blasts Andy out of bed one morning; it’s Naomi, calling from the rehab clinic where she has just checked in for a 90-day detox program. As it happens, this will span the holiday season of Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas.

 

Andy is gob-smacked, having been oblivious to her prescription pill addiction. That only makes the situation worse, and Naomi coldly demands that he not visit her.

 

He tries anyway, only to be rebuffed by a cheerfully unhelpful receptionist who won’t even confirm or deny Naomi’s presence. 

 

Kimberly Condict, as the receptionist, is on camera for barely a minute, but her sweetly condescending, I’ve-got-your-number-buster manner is absolutely hilarious.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice: A double-barreled delight

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, somewhat generously, for violent content, macabre and bloody images, strong language and suggestive material

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.1.24

Jimmy Webb must be tickled by the fact that somebody successfully concocted a plot point to the nonsensical lyrics he wrote for “MacArthur Park.”

 

When the escalating supernatural chaos subsides for a bit, Lydia (Winona Ryder, right)
and her daughter Astrid (Jenna Ortega) enjoy a bonding moment while looking at an
old photo album.

That’s merely one of several hilarious musical moments in director Tim Burton’s whacked-out revival of everybody’s favorite undead demon, played once again with throaty impudence by Michael Keaton.

All the familiar elements are once again in play, from the orchestral drum-beat of Danny Elfman’s title theme, to cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos’ disorienting opening montage, which eerily blurs the line between bucolic, small-town community and a tabletop miniature of same.

 

Burton and his writers — Alfred Gough, Miles Millar and Seth Grahame-Smith — have enhanced the ookiness and playful gore, while also adding a degree of danger. The first film may have been all in good (if zany) fun, but this one has a genuinely menacing undertone.

 

Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder) has parlayed her earlier experiences into an enormously successful media career, as a professional ghost-chaser. Her manager, Rory (Justin Theroux), is an insufferably snooty fashion plate who fancies himself the trendiest and most sensitive guy on the planet. He’s also in love with Lydia, which — to say the least — seems an odd pairing.

 

The unexpected death of Lydia’s father (played by Jeffrey Jones, in the first film) prompts her return to the long-shuttered family home in bucolic Winter River. She’s joined by her mother, Delia (Catherine O’Hara), and  moody, rebellious teenage daughter, Astrid (Jenna Ortega, immediately recognized from television’s Wednesday). The girl is all but estranged from her mother, and with good reason, having been essentially ignored while Lydia focused on her flourishing career.

 

Astrid has an additional, quite understandably reason for her sullen melancholy; her father — Lydia’s husband — long ago disappeared under mysterious circumstances. As a result, Astrid now has lost both beloved father figures.

 

On top of which, as a dedicated activist and environmentalist, the pragmatic girl doesn’t believe in ghosts. (She’s in for a surprise...)

 

Meanwhile, in Afterlife Central, way down below, the balefully malevolent Delores (Monica Bellucci) reassembles herself, after having been chopped into bits centuries earlier: easily the most grotesquely ghastly sequence Burton ever concocted. Turns out she was Beetlejuice’s lover, way back in the day, until their unhealthy relationship hit an, um, unfortunate snag.

 

Now that she’s back, and possessed of über-creepy soul-sucking powers, she’s determined to pay Beetlejuice back in kind ... and woe to those who get in her way.