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.

 

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 Furious: 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 on 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.)