The Penguin Lessons: Waddles into your heart

The Penguin Lessons (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity, fleeting sexual candor and mild profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.30.25

Filmmakers are reading each other’s email again.

 

Just last August, we were graced with My Penguin Friend: a thoroughly enchanting drama, based on actual events, about how a Brazilian fisherman saved the life of an oil-covered penguin in the spring of 2011, after which the bird bonded with him.

 

The initially hopeless teacher/pupil dynamic shifts suddenly when Tom (Steve Coogan)
impulsively brings his penguin companion to class.

And here’s the follow-up: a similarly endearing handling of Tom Michell’s 2016 memoir, which depicts how he — as “a country boy from the gentle Downs of rural Sussex” — similarly saved a penguin while teaching in a boys’ boarding school in 1970s Argentina.

Director Peter Cattaneo and scripter Jeff Pope have taken a few liberties. Michell is played by 59-year-old actor/comedian Steve Coogan, who certainly can’t be termed naïve or unsophisticated. Sidebar characters have been added here and there, and the political context has been amplified in a manner that more pointedly mirrors current events throughout the world.

 

But the saga’s heart remains front and center, along with an aw-shucks level of cuteness ... but Cattaneo ensures that the tone never becomes mawkishly sentimental.

 

Coogan also supplies plenty of dry humor, delivered with his impeccable timing; his sarcastic one-liners are even funnier when contrasted with his bleak, deadpan expression.

 

The disillusioned Michell, carrying tragic baggage eventually revealed, arrives in Buenos Aires to teach at a prestigious boarding school that caters exclusively to the Very Wealthy. He’s greeted by sharp and severe Headmaster Buckle (Jonathan Pryce, appropriately stuffy), who insists on punctuality in all manners, and cautions that any discussion of politics should be approached with a small “p.”

 

That’s wise advice, because Tom — who expected an easy assignment — is chagrined to find the city in turmoil, with soldiers patrolling everywhere, and citizens understandably on edge. (Isabel Perón is shortly to be ousted via a military coup.)

 

Worse yet, Tom is chagrined to discovered that wealthy Argentinian boys are just as obnoxious as their British counterparts. Diego (David Herrero), Ernesto (Aimar Miranda) and Ramiro (Hugo Fuertes) are the stand-outs, with the most dramatic business.

 

Tom can’t begin to obtain control in his classroom, and his tendency to quote highbrow poetry and aphorisms doesn’t help.

 

His initial encounter with the school’s hard-of-hearing cook and cleaner, María (Vivian El Jaber) also goes poorly, much to the amusement of her adult granddaughter, Sofía (Alfonsina Carrocio), who works alongside her.

 

Tom’s sole ray of sunshine is erudite, Finnish-born fellow instructor Tapio (Björn Gustafsson), who — although intelligent and convivial — is hilariously incapable of understanding irony or sarcasm. As are Tom’s students.

A Working Man: Needs more work

A Working Man (2025) • View trailer

Three stars (out of five). Rated R, for drug content, constant profanity and relentless strong and gory violence

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

As demonstrated in last year’s The Beekeeper, blend director David Ayer and star Jason Statham, and the result is hyper-violence.

 

The calm before the storm: Jenny Garcia (Arianna Rivas) goes over construction project
details with Levon Cole (Jason Statham, right), while her doting father (Michael Peña)
watches approvisngly.

Although this new film doesn’t feature a death quite as appalling as The Beekeeper’s notorious off-the-unfinished-bridge sequence, there’s no shortage of baddies getting pummeled, shot, stabbed, sliced, diced, defenestrated, blown away and blown up by all manner of knives, guns, grenades and makeshift bombs.

Along with Statham’s signature karate, wushu, Wing Chun kung fu, Brazilian jiu jitsu and kickboxing.

 

At best, the result is a vicious, violent and vicarious guilty pleasure, but there’s no denying the satisfaction of watching deplorable villains get what they deserve. And goodness, scripters Ayer, Chuck Dixon and Sylvester Stallone came up with a bevy of baddies: Russian Mafia lords and goons, opportunistic mid-level snakes, human traffickers and a squadron of biker thugs.

 

Can one man really take on such a barrage, and live to tell the tale?

 

Silly question. We’re talking about Jason Statham.

 

The title credits montage reveals that Levon Cade (Statham) served as a member of the British Royal Guard during some nasty military action. In the present day, he has become a construction foreman employed by Joe Garcia (Michael Peña), who runs the operation alongside wife Carla (Noemi Gonzalez) and college-age daughter Jenny (Arianna Rivas).

 

Aside from being haunted by his former military actions, Levon also is blamed by his wealthy ex-father-in-law, Jordan (Richard Heap, truly unpleasant), for his late wife’s suicide. To that end, Jordan seeks full custody of his adorable adolescent granddaughter, Merry (Isla Gie), because he sees Levon as a PTSD-riddled ex-soldier unfit to raise a child.

 

This is why Levon has been sleeping in his truck outside the construction site each night, and subsisting on home-cooked meals supplied by the Garcias and other sympathetic construction workers, while saving money to battle Jordan in court.

 

Set-ups of this nature are key to Statham’s popularity, because — as is the case here — he often plays troubled, blue-collar guys with a sense of honor, and an unwillingness to bow down to any sort of opportunistic scoundrels determined to screw regular folks.

The Day the Earth Blew Up: Overly chaotic

The Day the Earth Blew Up (2024) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for mild rude humor and relentless cartoon violence

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

Although it’s wonderful to see a full-length Looney Tunes adventure done in the retro, hand-drawn style of its ancestor shorts, the story needed to be fine-tuned a lot more.

 

It's an average morning for Porky Pig and Daffy Duck ... but events already are underway
that soon will plunge them into a nightmare zombie apocalypse.

Eleven (!) scripters are credited, along with another four “story consultants” ... and I’m afraid that shows. Far too many things are thrown against the wall, many of which don’t stick, and the entire third act isn’t supported by what precedes it.

When initially made under the Warner Bros. banner, this film was cheekily conceived as a “post-apocalyptic science-fiction zombie buddy comedy.” That’s certainly accurate, for better or worse.

 

(Incoming Warners Bros. Discovery David Zaslav damn near shelved this finished film, until relenting in the face of fan outcry, after which he shopped it to replacement distributor Ketchup Entertainment, whom we can thank for being able to see it at all.)

 

Director Peter Browngardt has modeled his approach after the style of Bob Clampett and Tex Avery, the most manic of the classic Looney Tunes directors. The humor here therefore is hyper and frenzied, every scene a five-alarm fire, rather than — by way of contrast — the quieter, precisely timed, slow-burn humor of Chuck Jones’ Road Runner cartoons.

 

(Browngardt also developed and helmed the new six-season Looney Tunes Cartoons series, maintaining the spirit of the classic shorts, which debuted on MAX from 2020-23.)

 

This film also serves as an origin story for Porky Pig and Daffy Duck, adopted as orphan infants by kindly Farmer Jim (voiced by Fred Tatasciore). This imposing sodbuster is weirdly “animated” as a series of still images, their sole movement being his lips when speaking (sorta-kinda hearkening back to the 1959-60 cartoon series Clutch Cargo ... and if you understand that reference, you’re as old as I am).

 

Porky and Daffy come of age under this benevolent man’s guidance, somehow surviving school among human students, and eventually reaching adulthood (each now voiced by Eric Bauza, doing spot-on imitations of Mel Blanc’s classic handling of both characters, including Porky’s signature stutter).

 

At this point, Farmer Jim strides off into the sunset — literally — and bequeaths his house to the unlikely duo, promising that they’ll always survive whatever life throws at them, as long as they stick together.

Black Bag: Deliciously crafty

Black Bag (2025) • View trailer

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

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.23.25

Spy flicks don’t come much sleeker, sexier or smarter than this one.

 

Director Steven Soderbergh and writer David Koepp have concocted a tightly plotted, British-based thriller that unfolds over the course of a single week. The execution is mesmerizing, the well-sculpted characters persuasively played by a top-flight cast.

 

George (Michael Fassbender, left) and Freddie (Tom Burke, center) seethe quietly
while their boss, Arthur (Pierce Brosnan) demands a quick result on the search for
a mole known to have stolen a dangerous software cyber-worm.

(As a passing comment, it’s an eyebrow lift to realize that Soderbergh and Koepp also were responsible for the ludicrously overcooked ghost story, Presence, released just a few weeks back. Talk about day and night...!)

Soderbergh controls every aspect of this glossy slice of spyjinks, wearing additional hats as editor and cinematographer (the latter two under his not-at-all-secret aliases of, respectively, Mary Ann Bernard and Peter Andrews). As always, Soderberg loves long tracking shots, and this film opens with an impressive one.

 

Veteran intelligence officer George Woodhouse (Michael Fassbender), an elite operative at Britain’s closely guarded National Cyber Security Unit (NCSC), is summoned to an off-site meeting by his boss, Philip Meacham (Gustaf Skarsgård). A dangerous top-secret software cyber-worm, code-named Severus, has been leaked: likely to Russian agents. Five of George’s colleagues are suspected, and one happens to be his wife, Kathryn (Cate Blanchett), a powerful and trusted NCSC agent.

 

She’s also George’s weakness: He’s unwaveringly devoted to her (and everybody at NCSC knows this).

 

He requests two weeks to conduct a thorough investigation.

 

“Thousands of people will die, if Severus gets into the wrong hands,” Meacham explains.

 

“Oh,” George replies. “One week, then.”

 

Koepp’s dialogue remains this crisp throughout, often with an undercurrent of dark humor.

 

Soderbergh then cuts to George at home, meticulously preparing an ambitious meal for a dinner party. His care and precision, with every little menu detail, mirror his similarly clinical and methodical mind: always thinking four or five moves ahead, like a master chess player. But he’s also fastidious: a few tiny splatters of gravy, on a shirt cuff, demands an immediate change of clothes.

 

He catches Kathryn in their bedroom, getting dressed for the gathering. As a couple, they’re elegant, erudite and obviously whip-smart. Their banter is flirty, but also wary; we wonder what they conceal from each other, out of professional necessity, and also — possibly — for personal reasons. 

Hitpig! — This porker's a corker!

Hitpig! (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, for mild rude humor and comic peril

Available via: Peacock

By Derrick Bang

Animated films don’t come much wackier.

 

But, then, few folks have Pulitzer Prize-winning newspaper cartoonist Berkeley Breathed’s marvelous sense of the absurd.

 

They're on the case: from left, Louie the Lobster, Koala, Letícia dos Anjos, Hitpig,
Polecat and Super Rooster.

At this point, it’s unfair to label him solely that way; Breathed — best known for the strip Bloom County and its breakout star, Opus the Penguin — also has produced delightful children’s picture books and written essays in numerous publications.

The primary characters in this hilarious fantasy — a co-production of Britan’s Aniventure and Canada’s Cinesite animation firms — are “borrowed” from Breathed’s 2008 picture book, Pete & Pickles. Breathed concocted this film’s story, which then was scripted by Dave Rosenbaum and Tyler Werrin. Cinzia Angelini and David Feiss share the director’s chair.

 

The title character is an anthropomorphic swine introduced as a sidekick to Big Bertha (voiced by Lorraine Ashbourne), who has made a career of retrieving lost pets for their owners; she refused to return Hitpig to a bacon farm when he was just a piglet, and instead became his mentor.

 

(A minor quibble: Calling this character — and this film — Hitpig is a bizarre choice. He isn’t an assassin, and there must’ve been better choices for name and title.)

 

Alas, Bertha exits the story unexpectedly, after misjudging an assignment. Hitpig (Jason Sudeikis, at his gravelly best) takes over the “family business,” which comes complete with a tricked-out CatchVan that also boasts a snarky computer system (voiced by Shelby Young).

 

But Hitpig has, of late, lost track of the morality of each assignment. Catching and returning a polecat (RuPaul) to the facility that subjected it to cruel experiments — which left it with nuclear-powered farts (!) — is bad enough; shipping a feisty escaped koala (Hannah Gadsby) back to the zoo, where it’s once again mauled by children, is even worse.

 

Such activity also has made a mortal enemy: Brazilian animal rights activist Letícia dos Anjos (Anitta), who rescues critters as quickly as Hitpig catches them.

 

In his heart of hearts, Hitpig would rather be a chef. He makes a mean omelet, and the manner in which he’s able to slide back and forth along his van’s tall prep counter is merely one of this story’s many clever touches.

Presence: Insubstantial

Presence (2024) • View trailer

Two stars (out of five). Rated R, for violence, sexuality, drug use and relentless profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD services

By Derrick Bang

This movie is extremely exasperating.

 

During a long and (mostly) illustrious career, director Steven Soderberg has come in two flavors:

 

Realtor Cece (Julia Fox, far right) shows off the house to its soon-to-be new owners:
from left, Chloe (Callina Liang), Chris (Chris Sullivan), Tyler (Eddy Maday) and
Rebekah (Lucy Liu). Trouble is, the house already has a resident tenant...

• the crowd-pleasing maker of star-driven vehicles such as Out of Sight, Erin Brockovich, Traffic and the Oceans Eleven series; and, alternatively,

• the occasional cinematic experimenter who stretches the medium, starting with 1989’s Sex, Lies and Videotape, and continuing with 2002’s utterly unwatchable Full Frontal, and now this deliberately challenging take on the classic haunted house story.

 

The “gimmick” here is that the entire story emerges from the point of view of the ghost trapped within its lavish suburban home. The film never leaves the house, because the ghost cannot.

 

Okay, potentially clever in concept ... but the execution is an assault on the senses. The house is empty as scripter David Koepp’s narrative begins, and this entity initially swoops from room to room with supernatural speed, spinning and gyrating in a manner certain to induce vertigo and even nausea in viewers prone to motion sickness.

 

As usual, Soderberg is responsible for his own cinematography — “concealed” behind his familiar pseudonym, as Peter Andrews — so he’s wholly responsible for this dizzying assault on the senses. And although this spectral entity soon settles down a bit, its occasional whip-fast plunges — from one room to another — remain jarring.

 

The house soon is purchased and tastefully furnished by the not-so-typical American family of Rebekah (Lucy Liu), Chris (Chris Sullivan) and their two high school-age children, Tyler (Eddy Maday) and Chloe (Callina Liang).

 

We learn more about this family as the ghost eavesdrops on them, individually and collectively. Each revelatory session is a single tracking shot — some fleeting, some impressively long — which then cuts to a brief black screen, as the ghost slides through a wall to go elsewhere (at least, that’s what it feels like).

 

It soon becomes clear that Rebekah is clandestinely up to something shady, likely a sort of financial swindling, which worries Chris enough to think about separating. But he can’t, because he needs to be around for their fragile daughter, still deeply traumatized by the recent drug overdose of two friends, one her former bestie.

 

The unpleasantly arrogant Tyler, a bullying jock who swears constantly and believes that he walks on water, enjoys playing cruel pranks on vulnerable classmates; he also has no patience with his sister’s fragility. To make matters worse, Rebekah’s unwholesome fondness for him — at the expense of practically ignoring Chloe — borders on a Jocasta complex.

 

The Gorge: Not quite deep enough

The Gorge (2025) • View trailer

3.25 stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for intense action and violence, brief profanity and dramatic impact

Available via: Apple TV+

By Derrick Bang

TheWrap cheekily dubs this “The romantic sniper monster movie you’ve been waiting for,” and that’s a fair description.

 

When Levi (Miles Teller) and Drasa (Anya Taylor-Joy) finally figure out a way to meet in
person, the flickering sparks of mutual attraction become incandescent.

I’ll go a step further: For the first hour or so, while director Scott Derrickson and scripter Zach Dean keep their cards concealed, this is a highly intriguing thriller fueled by two compelling characters, played superbly by Anya Taylor Joy and Miles Teller. This movie would be a silly little trifle without them.

Unfortunately, it’s eventually necessary to Provide Answers, and this film’s second half — although a rip-snortin’ roller coaster of pell-mell action — loses its smarts. The Reason For All This leaves far too many questions, hanging chads and plot holes large enough to fill the gorge in question.

 

Many films of this nature conclude with viewers sputtering “But, but, but...!” and wondering what logically would happen next, but this one’s in a league all its own.

 

Events begin as professional assassin Drasa (Joy) — a Lithuanian frequently employed by the Kremlin for covert ops — successfully completes an assignment with a long-range sniper rifle. She carefully retrieves the single spent cartridge shell and — during a subsequent meeting with her father, Erikas (William Houston) — hands it to him by way of purging her “sorrow.” He places it into a pouch laden with scores (hundreds?) of such shells.

 

But she’s shattered to learn that he’s dying of cancer. Unwilling to succumb slowly and painfully, he announces that he’ll end his life early the following year, on Valentine’s Day. Her chagrin is complex: Aside from not wanting to lose him, how will she then exorcise her sorrows?

 

Joy and Houston play this scene masterfully. She has long been adept at finely nuanced expressions and body language, since bursting onto the scene in the 2020 miniseries, The Queen’s Gambit. A wealth of emotions come into play here, particularly during the silences between sparse dialogue.

 

Elsewhere, in the States, former U.S. Marine scout/sniper Levi Kane (Teller) has lost his psychological edge; he suffers from nightmares about previous assignments. He’s nonetheless recruited by Bartholomew (Sigourney Weaver), a high-level spook of some sort, for a highly unusual, year-long assignment.

Mickey 17: One heckuva ride!

Mickey 17 (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for gruesome violence, profanity, sexual content and drug use

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.9.25

This is science-fiction cinema at its finest.

 

Director/scripter Bong Joon Ho’s mesmerizing adaptation of Edward Ashton’s 2022 novel has it all: a fascinating premise, solid characters, a persuasively chilling future, a tone that veers from brutally horrifying to macabre, and scathing social commentary.

 

One Mickey too many? Two "expendables" (both Robert Pattinson) are sent on a suicide
mission, in an effort to do something about the inhospitable elements on the faraway
planet of Niflheim.

That is, after all, science-fiction’s primary mission: to employ a high-tech backdrop as a means of calling out contemporary society’s failings.

And goodness, but we’ve been failing a lot lately.

 

Ho’s film hits the ground running, as the hapless Mickey (Robert Pattinson) struggles to awareness after having fallen into a deep, icy cavern. His stream-of-consciousness ramblings sound defeated and resigned.

 

Then, the overhead roar of engines; a figure appears atop the fissure. Timo (Steven Yeun) peers over the edge ... but instead of assisting, he rappels down just far enough to retrieve Mickey’s futuristic weapon, and then returns to his ship. This leaves Mickey to a fate that becomes even more dire, when weird, many-legged beasties burst into the cavern.

 

Okay, this isn’t Earth.

 

While praying for a fast death, rather than being devoured bit by bit, Mickey recalls what brought him to this fate.

 

We flash back four years and change. The year is 2054. Mickey and Timo have unwisely crossed a nasty loan shark; they’re given four days to replay the loan ... or else.

 

Mickey — a forlorn nebbish who has resigned himself to loser status — impulsively decides to leave the planet; Timo does the same.

 

That proves possible, thanks to a mission being mounted by Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo), a former congressman and failed two-time presidential candidate. Earth has become increasingly inhospitable, and — with the financial backing of a right-wing religious order — Marshall has become the public face of a voyage to the distant planet Niflheim, where a “righteous” new colony will be established.

 

Naïve, wide-eyed true believers line up by the hundreds, most sporting logo caps and flashing uniform salutes. Mickey fills out a form, and — not realizing the significance of this detail — signs up to become an “expendable.”

 

“Are you sure?” the receptionist asks, warily.

 

Why not? It’s not as if Mickey has amounted to anything up to this point.