War Machine: Badly built

War Machine (2026) • View trailer

2.5 stars (out of five); rated R, for profanity and strong, gory violence

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

Alan Ritchson can’t be blamed for parlaying his success on television’s Reacher into a bigger career, but he needs to be more selective.

 

Surely he can do better than director Patrick Hughes’ laughably ludicrous, hyper-violent sci-fi cartoon.

 

With an unstoppable, massive killing machine pursuing rapidly, Staff Sergeant 81
(Alan Ritchson) does his best to save himself and his badly injured companion
(Stephan James)

In fairness, Hughes and co-scripter James Beaufort establish a reasonably solid first act. A prologue, set in Kandahar, Afghanistan, introduces an unnamed Staff Sergeant (Ritchson), who arrives with a support team to help a broken-down convoy under the command of his younger brother (Jai Courtney). The two are tightly bonded, and discuss a long-ago promise to apply to the Army Ranger program.

That conversation doesn’t get far; the Americans are hit by Taliban insurgents, and everybody is killed except the Staff Sergeant.

 

Two years pass. The Staff Sergeant is among a large cluster of hopeful recruits who enter the Ranger Assessment Selection Program, at a Colorado training base supervised by Sergeant Major Sheridan (Dennis Quaid) and First Sergeant Torres (Esai Morales). Everybody is assigned a number, by which we know them from this point forward; the Staff Sergeant becomes 81.

 

He carries baggage, both physical — a lingering knee injury, inflicted during the Taliban strike — and mental. He’s withdrawn, and refuses to socialize with the others (perfect for Ritchson’s signature bottled-up emotions). He also suffers from PTSD nightmares, blaming himself for having failed to save his brother.

 

Some of 81’s fellow trainees stand out, starting with 7 (Stephan James), sensitive to this big guy’s issues, but with a perceptive gaze that suggests he knows something of the man’s past. 15 (Blake Richardson) is a wisecracking smart-mouth; 44 (Alex King) is a plucky young woman who keeps up with the guys.

 

That’s about it, in terms of development; Hughes and Beaufort don’t care enough to give any of these characters a back-story, or even much of a personality.

 

The training sessions are punishing, with Ritchson’s driven 81 often outdoing everybody else. But Sheridan and Torres worry about his mental state, and his refusal to accept a command position. As a “last chance,” they make him team leader during the final “death march” exercise: a simulated mission in the nearby mountainous forest.

 

Meanwhile, ongoing radio reports have described an asteroid-like object approaching Earth, then orbiting and breaking off into pieces.

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.”