Power Ballad: Music to our ears

Power Ballad (2026) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five); rated R, for relentless profanity and some drug use

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.7.26 

Irish writer/director John Carney clearly loves music as much as I admire his films.

 

Starting with 2006’s charming Once — with its poignant, Academy Award-winning song “Falling Slowly” — and continuing through 2013’s Begin Again, 2016’s Sing Street and 2023’s Flora and Son — Carney has found fresh ways to explore the complicated, sometimes maddening relationship his characters have with music, and their muse.

 

After a blend of swapped stories, too much alcohol, and a mutual love of songwriting,
Danny (Nick Jonas, left) and Rick (Paul Rudd) play original tunes for each other.

His newest beguiling drama, co-written with Peter McDonald, focuses on the frequently shattering impact today’s corporate, money-driven music industry has on talented individuals who don’t ... quite ... make it.

Back in the day, American singer/songwriter Rick (Paul Rudd) established a modest presence and released a few albums. While performing in Dublin during an international tour, he met and married Rachel (Marcella Plunkett) ... and never left. Pop star aspirations were set aside 14 years ago, when their daughter Aja (Beth Fallon) was born.

 

Rick now is the charismatic lead singer of a pop/rock quintet dubbed The Bride and Groove, which is reasonably successful on the local wedding circuit. Unfortunately, Rick has a tendency to sprinkle one of his own early tunes among the band’s popular, by-request selection of power ballad covers such as Kool & The Gang’s “Celebration” ... to the constant annoyance of band leader Binzer (Rory Keenan).

 

While at  home, Rick continues to noodle away at new songs. One in particular — a sentimental ballad titled “How to Write a Song Without You” — has obsessed him for years, but he can’t quite get it right.

 

He frequently shares his efforts with his disinterested daughter, who scoffs at romantic lyrics.

 

What do you want out of a song, Rick asks.

 

“Revenge,” Aja replies, without skipping a beat.

 

The band’s next booking is a posh gig at a massive estate reminiscent of Downton Abbey. Toward the performance’s conclusion, newlyweds George (Robert Mitchell) and Elaine (Mae Higgins) ask the band to let a “friend” share a song. He turns out to be American pop star Danny Wilson (Nick Jonas), a former “boy band” sensation now struggling to establish a solo career.

 

Later that evening, once all the revelers have retired, Rick and Danny bond over their shared love of music. After plenty of alcohol and shared stories, they play music for each other; Danny gratefully accepts Rick’s suggested feedback and lyrical notes. As dawn approaches, Rick plays “How to Write a Song” on the piano, which clearly impresses Danny.

 

Carney lets this warm and enchanting montage sequence unfold at a leisurely pace. Both actors are note-perfect as their respective characters thaw, surprise and impress each other, and develop a palpable level of mutual respect.

 

As they part, Danny hands Rick his record label’s business card, encouraging him to keep in touch.

 

She Dances: Plenty of the right moves

She Dances (2025) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five); rated PG-13, for fleeting profanity and some drug references

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

This is a Wince During The First Half And Pray For A Reasonably Happy Outcome movie.

 

I don’t mean that in a bad way. Director/co-writer Rick Gomez’s feature debut is a frequently charming little character drama, which depicts the often embarrassing struggle of an estranged father and his teenage daughter trying to re-connect, after a tragedy ripped the family apart.

 

As Claire (Audrey Zahn, left) and Kat (Mackenzie Ziegler) look on with mounting
dismay, a flummoxed Jason (Steve Zahn) discovers that his intended hotel room
upgrade has misfired in a devastating way.

The film also features a noteworthy acting debut by dancer/choreographer Audrey Zahn, working here with her father Steve Zahn, playing — you guessed it — the aforementioned daughter and father.

This seems to have become something of a thing. Ethan Hawke directed his daughter Maya in 2023’s Wildcat; and Ewan McGregor and daughter Clara played a similarly estranged family unit in that same year’s Bleeding Love.

 

This new film is considerably better McGregor’s effort, and for several reasons. The situation is more relatable; Gomez’s touch is gentler, and at times quite funny; and the script — by Gomez and Steve Zahn — grants everybody plenty of persuasively awkward moments that’ll likely feel familiar to many viewers.

 

Kat (Audrey Zahn) has spent her entire life dancing, both for joy and in competition. Her bedroom is filled with ribbons and trophies, and everything has built up to the impending Southern Regional Dance Finals. Kat lives with her mother Deb (Rosemarie DeWitt); her long-unseen father Jason (Steve Zahn) parted following their divorce.

 

The plan was for Deb to take her daughter and longtime partner/BFF Kat (Mackenzie Ziegler) to the competition, but a last-minute emergency demands Deb’s presence elsewhere. With no other options — although Claire initially views this as a non-starter — Deb calls Jason and asks him to step in. Claire still is 17, and the rules require her to be accompanied by a parent or guardian.

 

“It’ll be perfect,” Deb insists.

 

“It’ll be perfectly imperfect,” Claire snaps back.

 

Due to the sort of coincidence that often lurks in stories of this nature, Jason and longtime business partner and best friend Brian (Ethan Hawke) are in the midst of negotiating the sale of their popular Two Jack Bourbon business. Immediately recognizing the importance of this opportunity, Brian insists that the astonished Jason doesn’t pass it up.

 

Zahn’s wavering expressions, over this wholly unexpected turn of events, speak volumes: Jason is surprised, pleased, worried and — most of all — terrified ... particularly because he can tell, over the phone, that Claire isn’t wild about the idea. He hasn’t spent quality time with her for years, and hasn’t the faintest idea how to relate to her.

 

Then, too, the long-ago tragedy hovers over everything.

 

The Mandalorian and Grogu: Solid sci-fi action

The Mandalorian and Grogu (2026) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five); rated PG-13, for sci-fi action and violence

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 5.31.26 

You simply cannot ask more of a Star Wars movie.

 

The Mandalorian has been — by far — the most popular streaming series set in the Star Wars universe, and considerable credit goes to writer/director/producer Jon Favreau, who created the show and shepherded it to greatness.

 

Having tracked the notorious crime lord Janu to his opulent lair on the planet Shakari,
the Mandalorian (Pedro Pascal) and little Grogu are about to confront an unpleasantly
vicious welcome.

(It must be remembered that Favreau also kick-started the Marvel Cinematic Universe franchise, by directing 2008’s Iron Man and its 2010 sequel. He firmly establishing the winning blend of action, peril, well-played characters by top-flight actors, and — most crucially — welcome dollops of wry humor ... all of which made subsequent MCU entries far more entertaining than their DC Universe cousins.)

Given that The Mandalorian is Favreau’s baby, it’s no surprise that he serves here as director, co-producer and co-writer, the latter alongside Dave Filoni and Noah Kloor.

 

The wildly entertaining result is as carefully structured as a Shakespeare play, with a thrilling prologue followed by two lengthy acts.

 

(By way of reminding folks who may have forgotten, all Mandalorian stories are set roughly five years after Return of the Jedi, in the optimistic New Republic era, and 25 years before things go awry again in The Force Awakens.)

 

This new adventure begins as the vile Commander Barro (Hemky Madera), an escaped Imperial warlord, terrorizes the serf-like clan leaders of a distant planet by demanding larger tributes in exchange for his “protection.” Madera capably establishes Barro’s credentials as A Thoroughly Nasty Fellow, but — happily — his despicable behavior is destined for a quick end.

 

Barro doesn’t realize that he’s one of many such Imperial loyalists identified in a card deck of notorious figures held by Col. Ward (Sigourney Weaver), leader of the New Republic Adelphi Rangers, and a former pilot for the Rebel Alliance. She, in turn, has hired veteran bounty hunter Din Djarin — better known as the Mandalorian (Pedro Pascal) — to deal with the guy.

 

Mando’s arrival is timely, his battle prowess impressively versatile. As always, he’s accompanied by his tiny companion, Grogu, a mute “Force-sensitive” creature belonging to the same rare and unspecified species as Jedi Master Yoda. Their unusual father/son dynamic has long been the heart of this franchise, transforming Mando — over time — from reluctant protector to proud and devoted surrogate parent.

 

Grogu’s Force powers notwithstanding, in many ways he’s still an innocent child, prone to getting into trouble ... as when he must be stopped from randomly punching buttons on the command deck of Mando’s spaceship. That aside, everything about Grogu is adorable, from his diminutive size and the way he waddles, to his unexpectedly expressive eyes, ears and the set of his head, which speak volumes even without words.

 

The blend of puppetry and CGI is seamless, and it’s easy to believe that Grogu is as “present” as Pascal’s Mando.

The Hobby: Tales from the Tabletop — Gamers get a well-deserved spotlight

The Hobby: Tales from the Tabletop (2025) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five); not rated, but akin to PG-13, for occasionally frustrated profoanity

Available via: Amazon Prime

By Derrick Bang 

Full disclosure: I had more than a casual interest in Simon Ennis’ engaging documentary before seeing the first frame, because Constant Companion and I ran a game and puzzle store in our town, from 1978 to early 1997.

 

Once introduced to the ambitious world of today's board gaming culture, Candice Harris
can't get enough of it.

We reluctantly shuttered its doors because — as the 20th century drew to a close — the newly arrived electronic game industry all but killed the traditional board and table game business model.

Happily — as Ennis’ film repeatedly proves — board and table games enjoyed a major resurgence as the 21st century’s second decade began, and now the pursuit is arguably more popular and diverse than ever before. 

 

More power to them, because games have been with us for a long time.

 

Ennis opens his film at the British Museum, where Dr. Irving Finkel — Assistant Keeper of Ancient Mesopotamian script, languages and cultures in the Department of the Middle East — stands between two enormous Ancient Assyrian “Lamassus” statues. He points between the hooves of one statue, where a rudimentary board game has been scratched onto the metal base: something with which temple guards could while away the time, using pebbles or bits of dung as playing pieces.

 

Dr. Finkel is quite philosophical about this pastime, explaining that “When a game is invented, which is fair, and just, and exciting, and unpredictable, it spreads like wildfire, because there’s a hunger since the beginning of time, to play.”

 

That said — and Ennis must’ve been amused to get this quote — Dr. Finkel has no use for modern table games, all of which he considers “too ridiculously complicated.”

 

(Folks who’ve never progressed beyond Monopoly and Scrabble likely would agree with him.)

 

Following a brief title credits sequence — backed by a cover of Joe South’s “Games People Play” — the action shifts to opening day of the Indiana Convention Center’s annual Gen Con, a four-day event that draws more than 70,000 attendees (!). We meet moderator Tom Vasel, a board game reviewer and podcaster well known by the regulars.

 

Vasel is one of roughly a dozen gamers, podcasters and game designers profiled in this film, and he explains why new titles have exploded exponentially during the past decade and change: Crowd-funding allows far more creativity than ever was delivered by the likes of Parker Brothers, Hasbro and Milton Bradley. 

 

(Think of them as the original three TV networks, whose programs had to deliver high ratings in order to survive, as compared to the successful niche options now made available by the multiplicity of streaming outlets. Today’s indie gamers are like the latter.)

 

Jack Ryan: Ghost War — Insubstantial

Jack Ryan: Ghost War (2026) • View trailer

2.5 stars (out of five); rated R, for violence and profoanity

Available via: Amazon Prime

By Derrick Bang 

This seems to be the week for popular streaming shows to spawn feature-length films.

 

I hope the Mandalorian and Grogu are treated with more respect.

 

When a tightly planned operation goes horribly wrong, CIA Deputy Director Greer
(Wendell Pierce, center) must be restrained by MI6 operative Emma Marlow
(Sienna Miller) and veteran CIA agent Jack Ryan (John Krasinski).

Sadly, John Krasinski’s newest Jack Ryan adventure feels like a six-part serial clumsily slashed down to a 105-minute film. Back in the day, I’d have called this a Readers Digest Condensed Movie.

(On a trivial note, the unwisely chosen title evokes memories of 2011’s vastly superior Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol.)

 

Director Andrew Bernstein and editor Jason Ballantine’s hyperkinetic pacing amplifies the overall sense of racing to be done with this puppy, a feeling that’s particularly true during the expository, banter-laden initial conversation between “retired” CIA agent Ryan (Krasinski) and CIA Deputy Director James Greer (Wendell Pierce).

 

Honestly, it feels like their chat is being timed by a stopwatch.

 

Three years have passed since the events in Ryan’s fourth-season streaming show, which concluded when he left the CIA for a vaguely defined “civilian job in hedge funds.” His relationship with Dr. Cathy Mueller (Abbie Cornish) is ancient history, and he greets each day jogging along the streets of New York City.

 

Meanwhile, in Dubai, two MI6 agents scramble to crack a computer bank in the upper floor of an unfinished DAMAC tower building. Their goal, under the remote guidance of Nigel Cooke (Douglas Hedge), is to extract evidence of off-books black-ops activity thought to have been shuttered 20 years earlier.

 

Alas, ruthless thugs sent by Liam Crown (Max Beesley) kill them before the information is fully downloaded.

 

(And what, pray tell, is such a sophisticated, unguarded computer bank doing in an otherwise dusty and littered construction site? Well might you ask...)

 

Back in the States, Greer begs a favor of Ryan: Go to Dubai, liaise with Cooke, and collect some intel he’s apparently desperate to share. Ryan reluctantly agrees, and travels with a longtime friend: former CIA colleague-turned-private contractor Mike November (Michael Kelly), quick with a quip, and capable in a pinch.

 

Alas, this “simple” assignment goes south. Cooke is killed, Ryan winds up with nothing but a cigarette pack — and a warning that Greer is “in trouble” — after which he and November are taken into custody by MI6 agent Emma Marlow (Sienna Miller). She’s furious over the way these two Americans have interfered with her surveillance of the situation.

 

Remarkably Bright Creatures: A character-driven charmer

Remarkably Bright Creatures (2026) • View trailer

4.5 stars (out of five); rated PG-13, for brief profanity, fleeting drug use and dramatic intensity

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang 

Author Shelby Van Pelt must be pleased; book-to-film translations aren’t often treated with this much respect.

 

Although Tova (Sally Field) finds it difficult to share her private anguish with anybody else,
she confides everything to Marcellus, the Giant Pacific octopus who resides in the
oceanarium where she works ... and he understands far more than she could imagine.

Granted, director Olivia Newman’s script — co-written with John Whittington — changes some minor details, and compresses events; that’s to be expecting, when turning a 368-page book into a 111-minute movie.

But the buoyant, rapturous result definitely captures the story’s heart, and all three key characters are portrayed marvelously. The supporting players also are well cast; my only complaint is that we don’t get to spend enough time with some of them.

 

(Just in passing, one must acknowledge the unlikely coincidence of getting two octopus-themed films in such short order, following 2020’s My Octopus Teacher.)

 

The film opens with a voice-over introduction by Marcellus (voiced gravely, and oh-so-perfectly by Alfred Molina), a Giant Pacific octopus who is the star attraction at the (fictitious) Sowell Bay Oceanarium, in Washington’s Puget Sound. He morosely begins by acknowledging that this morning is “Day 1,404 of my captivity.”

 

Marcellus laments that he is “subservient to a species beneath me in every possible way,” and has little use for the throngs of people who visit each day. That’s particularly true of the grimy, obnoxious young children who press their noses against the glass tank, or lick it, and leave greasy fingerprints that become a “tiny mural”: an admittedly disgusting image that Newman highlights from Marcellus’ point of view.

 

(One must admit, were an octopus — or any other critter — to be that sentient and intelligent, such on-display captivity would be an ongoing nightmare.)

 

Marcellus makes an exception for Tova Sullivan (Sally Field), the elderly janitor/cleaner who, after hours, spends each evening lovingly wiping all the aquarium glass, scraping chewing gum from the floors, and otherwise washing, buffing and scrubbing everything thoroughly. She’s particularly fond of Marcellus, and confides in him, somehow feeling that he understands her.

 

To a degree, he does. He recognizes that she carries a deep sorrow: “I felt the hole in her heart.”

 

Marcellus also is quite the escape artist, able to slip out of his tank when impelled by boredom or curiosity. We suspect that he periodically visits other tanks, while pointedly avoiding the one that contains savage wolf eels.

Jaunt: A captivating little journey

Jaunt (2024) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five); not rated, and akin to PG-13 for sensuality, brief nudity and profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

Folks with a fondness for California’s scenic coastline will get a kick out of this film.

 

Writer/director Alexi Papalexopoulos’ accomplished feature debut is a road trip in both the physical and spiritual sense: a Golden State journey with well-chosen stops both scenic and touristy.

 

While pausing their California coastal drive for some quiet time on a beach, Madeline
(Emanuela Boisbouvier) listens attentively while Paul (Blake Worrell) begins to
acknowledge the mess that he has made of his life.

Middle-aged, shambling Paul Wesson (Blake Worrell) is introduced at low ebb in his unkempt West Hollywood apartment, laden with dirty dishes, food containers and dead plants. He looks like he hasn’t gotten out much since the COVID epidemic, and — on this average morning — attends a therapy “session” online, rather than in person.

The kind face in the screen obviously has urged Paul, repeatedly, to get outside and jog the nearby Runyon Canyon hiking trail: a modest 2.8-mile ascent with lavish views from Inspiration Point and Clouds Rest. (Papalexopoulos’ film was shot entirely on location, with Luka Bazeli handling the often majestic cinematography.)

 

This time, finally — annoyed by his expanding paunch — Paul goes for it. He manages a half-hearted jog/walk to the first lookout point; he arrives panting, as though he might pass out any moment. At which point (we heave a disapproving sigh), he bums a cigarette from the only other person present: a twentysomething French woman, sitting on a bench and chatting on her phone.

 

To his surprise, she isn’t put off by his appearance. Her gaze is playful, her smile amused; she explains that, in France, it’s customary to exchange small talk for as long as shared cigarettes burn. 

 

She’s Madeline (Emanuela Boisbouvier), a free spirit who has come to California because, well, that’s what some Europeans yearn to do. Paul makes vague references to a former career as a photographer, and maker of low-budget movies. He surprises himself by impulsively inviting her to dinner; she accepts. He shares his address; they part ... and then he remembers what his apartment looks like.

 

Cue a droll montage of frantic cleaning.

 

Alas, his chosen restaurant unexpectedly is closed for the evening. Having learned that Paul knows how to cook, Madeline insists they simply return for a meal at his place. They eat, chat, dance, flirt and wind up in bed.