The Lost Bus: A harrowing journey

The Lost Bus (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for profanity and dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 10.19.25

Back in 2006, director Paul Greengrass unveiled the docudrama United 93, about the harrowing events of 9/11, and many of us wondered ... too soon?

 

With traffic backed up for 15 miles (!) on the primary escape road to Chico, school bus
driver Kevin McKay (Matthew McConaughey) and grade school teacher Mary Ludwig
(American Ferrera) seek an alternate route to get themselves and 22 children to safety.

Apparently not. Viewers flocked to theaters, absorbed and horrified by the as-accurate-as-possible depiction of that heinous terrorist attack, and the selfless sacrifice of the passengers aboard United Flight 93.

Now, not quite seven years after the calamitous firestorm that leveled Paradise, Ca., Greengrass has responded with this docudrama ... and, again, is it too soon?

 

Absolutely not, thanks in part to a timely “message line” delivered by Fire Chief Martinez (Yul Vazquez), toward the end of the film: “Every year, the fires gets bigger. And there’s more of them. We’re being damn fools. That’s the truth.”

 

(Probably more of a 2025 sentiment than one from 2018, but still persuasive.)

 

That’s merely an incidental moment in a mesmerizing drama that begins at 4 p.m. on November 7, 2018, as recently hired Pine Ridge School Unified Transportation District bus driver Kevin McKay (Matthew McConaughey) drops his busload of children at their various stops, following a day at school.

 

Kevin’s life has gone completely to hell. He has returned to Paradise, following his father’s death from cancer, and taken the bus-driving job in order to deal with the lingering medical debt. He has moved his mother, suffering from stage 4 melanoma, into his home; his teenage son Shaun (Levi McConaughey, the star’s actual son) also lives with them. And — icing on the cake — Kevin’s beloved dog just had to be put down, also due to cancer.

 

(That may seem like Greengrass and co-scripter Brad Ingelsby are exaggerating this poor guy’s misery, but in fact those details are accurate.)

 

McConaughey, always at his best playing the sort of blue-collar, working-class bloke who makes this country run, delivers a shattering performance in these early scenes. His features are grim, resigned, frustrated and even frightened, his eyes haunted. Trying to juggle all these responsibilities has made him unreliable at work, to the dismay of his boss, Ruby (Ashlie Atkinson, in an excellent supporting role). 

 

These scenes are intercut with frequent news announcements — 210 days with no rain, rapidly accelerating wind gusts — and unsettling images of PG&E cell towers and cables swaying back and forth.

BlacKkKlansman: provocatively brilliant

BlacKkKlansman (2018) • View trailer 
4.5 stars. Rated R, for dramatic intensity, highly disturbing and violent images, sexual candor, racial epithets and profanity
By Derrick Bang

This is another one for the jaw-dropping Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction file: an audacious adaptation of a real-world event that simply wouldn’t be believed, had it not actually happened.

Detective Flip Zimmerman (Adam Driver, left) stares in astonishment at the KKK
membership card that his police colleague Ron Stallworth (John David Washington) has
just received in the mail, after he politely asked — during a phone conversation, in the guise
of a dedicated white racist — that KKK Grand Wizard David Duke expedite the request.

Granted, director Spike Lee and his co-scripting colleagues — Charlie Wachtel, David Rabinowitz and Kevin Willmott — have taken liberties here and there: changing some names, fabricating a few supporting characters, adjusting the time frame a bit. But the key details are just as they’re depicted in Ron Stallworth’s 2014 memoir of the same title, and the succinct elevator pitch can’t help raising eyebrows: the astonishing saga of how a black Colorado Springs police officer became a card-carrying member of the Ku Klux Klan.

But that isn’t the only selling point of Lee’s big-screen adaptation. He has shrewdly shaped BlacKkKlansman to make what went down in the 1970s sound like a foreshadowing of what’s happening right now. Occasional lines of dialogue leap off the screen, as echoes of today’s headlines.

A casual conversation partway through this film, during which Stallworth (John David Washington) smugly discounts any possibility of KKK Grand Wizard David Duke (Topher Grace) gaining traction on his desire to occupy the White House — Duke being described in contemptuous (but wholly accurate) terms that are equally relevant to the current racist Pretender-in-Chief — can’t help raising goose bumps.

At other times, in a neck-snapping shift of tone, Lee’s film is riotously hilarious … although our laughter tends to be nervous, at best.

That’s quite a balancing act: fascinating history, provocative social commentary, unexpected humor, and a terrifying glimpse of humanity at its worst. BlacKkKlansman triumphs on all those levels: alternating dynamic verve and swagger, with victory and heartbreak. It’s by far the most urgently relevant, shrewdly insightful and entertaining film of Lee’s remarkable career: quite an accomplishment, given his already impressive résumé.

It’s the early 1970s: Fresh-faced, Afro-coifed Stallworth becomes the first black officer in the Colorado Springs Police Department. It’s an early stab at racial integration that Chief Bridge (Robert John Burke) warns will test his new hire’s patience and resolve at every turn. And not just from an unknown percentage of local residents, but also from fellow cops such as the loutish Andy Landers (Frederick Weller, doing a great job at being teeth-grindingly loathsome).

Washington deftly establishes Stallworth’s character during this initial interview: calm, patient, insightful and — more than anything else — dignified. But he doesn’t wear the latter arrogantly, like a shield; resolve and a desire for mutual respect just sorta radiate from him. Yet when alone or briefly out of view, repressed frustration erupts like lava: quite jarring, the first time, given the Zen-like tranquility he has displayed up to that moment.