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.

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.)

I Am Frankelda: Dazzling, but uneven

I Am Frankelda (2025) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five); rated PG, for dramatic intensity, scary images and fantasy violence

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

The imagination, craft and world-building in this fantasy — Mexico’s very first stop-motion animated feature — are off the chart.

 

I wish similar attention had been paid to the story.

 

After allowing her conscious self to be transported to Topus Terrentus (the Realm of
Terrors), Frankelda hopes that her lurid imagination will be enough to save
Prince Herneval's realm.

Even so, brothers Arturo and Roy Ambriz, who share writing and directing chores, have orchestrated a dazzling saga that plays on the (supposedly) thin line that separates reality from fantasy, truth from fiction. Neither can exist without the other.

The narrative is laden with 19th century Mexican culture, Day of the Dead folklore, creation myths and visual nods to the unsettling paintings of Leonora Carrington and Remedios Varo.

 

Art fans also will smile at the film’s opening tableau: a fantasy-hued nod to Rodin’s massive bronze sculpture, The Gates of Hell.

 

The result feels like a mash-up of Pixar’s Coco, Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth, Henry Selick’s adaptation of Coraline, and Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride, Frankenweenie and Nightmare Before Christmas. That’s no surprise, since the brothers admitted — in a recent Los Angeles Times interview — that their lives changed after seeing a VHS version of the latter.

 

A lengthy prologue — set in 1866, in Mexico’s Real del Monte — introduces Francisca Imelda (voiced by Habana Zoé), an imaginative little girl who hopes to become a published author. We meet her on the sad day that her mother — who paints lovely landscapes — falls ill with what kills her soon thereafter.

 

This initial sequence is amazingly lush, despite the limitations of stop-motion work. The girl and her mother stand in a gorgeous field of swaying grass and flowers, with small creatures — a lizard and rabbit — hovering in the background. Tears flow from the girl’s eyes, when her mother collapses.

 

To comfort herself, Francisca writes fantastical stories about Herneval, the “Prince of Terrors” in Topus Terrentus (Realm of the Terrors). The girl’s grandmother, with whom she now lives, disdains this useless waste of time. The waspish old hag makes Francisca spend her days like a wage slave: cleaning up, darning clothes and every other chore demanded of her.

 

Unbeknownst to Francisca — and all human beings — Topus Terrentus and Herneval (Jules Presley) are real: He’s the son of King Ficturo (Beto Castillo) and Queen Veritena (Gabriela Cárdenas). All three resemble a regal cross between human beings and birds of prey.

 

Their realm is home to all of humanity’s fears; when Ficturo plays the immense harpspider — which connects to our Realm of Existence — he shapes human consciousness. The denizens of Topus Terrentus, in turn, are kept alive by the power of humanity’s nightmares.

 

Unfortunately, humans have become too sophisticated for the nighttime visions created by Procustes (Luis Leonardo Suárez) the Royal Nightmare Maker. His efforts have grown tired, stale and clichéd.

The Sheep Detectives: Wooly bully!

The Sheep Detectives (2026) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five); rated PG, and needlessly, for mild dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 5.10.26

Director Kyle Balda’s quaint little charmer is certain to appeal to fans of Babe, Charlotte’s Web and other (sorta-kinda) live-action talking animal movies.

 

This one blends that core premise with a bit of Shaun the Sheep and ... Agatha Christie.

 

Whenever George (Hugh Jackman) feels gloomy or lonely, he cheers himself by spending
quality time with his favorite sheep, Lily.

The film derives from an intriguing source, adapted from German author Leonie Swann’s 2005 novel, Three Bags Full, which is set in the Irish village of Glenkill. 

Scripter Craig Mazin moves the action to the fictitious English countryside community of Denbrook. (Filming actually took place in and around Oxfordshire, and cinematographer George Steel makes ample use of the lush setting.) Mazin also takes serious liberties with Swann’s characters and the plot; the beguiling result bears little resemblance to her novel.

 

Eccentric rancher George Hardy (Hugh Jackman) gets along far better with his sheep — all of whom he has named — than with the townsfolk. He writes long narrative letters to somebody named Rebecca, detailing his workaday activities. He’s also an avid fan of mystery books; once chores are done each day, and the sun begins to set, he sits on the steps leading to his tiny trailer home, and reads aloud to his large flock.

 

At first blush, it seems curious to see all the sheep amble toward the trailer, and settle onto the ground, as if paying attention. As we learn, when George retires for the night, the sheep understand every word, and debate who the culprit might be. 

 

The lively arguments fly between the patient Mopple (voiced by Chris O’Dowd), the curious Zora (Bella Ramsey), the fluffy Cloud (Regina Hall), the proud and dignified Sir Ritchfield (Patrick Stewart), the shaggy Wool-Eyes (Rhys Darby) and rowdy twins Reggie and Ronnie (Brett Goldstein). Ah, but the wise and perceptive Lily (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) always knows the right answer, well before each novel concludes.

 

Lily understands the structure of such books, explaining that it’s always a matter of deducing which suspect had means, motive and opportunity.

 

Meanwhile, budding young journalist Elliot Matthews (Nicholas Galitzine) arrives in Denbrook, having been sent to write a feature on the town’s “cultural festival.” This turns out to be only three paltry tables set up by prickly innkeeper Beth Pennock (Hong Chau), who becomes grievously insulted when Elliot bluntly notes that her “fair” isn’t such a much.

 

Other key villagers include Tim Derry (Nicholas Braun), the clumsy and sweetly befuddled local policeman; Rev. Hillcoate (Kobna Holdbrook-Smith), the often bewildered local minister; Ham Gilyard (Conleth Hill), the smugly arrogant town butcher; and Caleb Merrow (Tosin Cole), a fellow sheep rancher who leases half of George’s land for his flock.

 

Beth spits nails every time George’s name is mentioned. George, far from devout, stuns  Rev. Hillcoate and his entire congregation during service one day, by storming into church and dumping a huge wad of bills in the donation plate.

In Your Dreams: A lovely little fantasy

In Your Dreams (2025) • View trailer

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

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

File this one under the old warning: Be careful what you wish for … you might get it.

 

Directors Erik Benson and Alexander Woo have delivered an animated charmer — feeling a bit like Pixar Lite — which also serves as a gentle life lesson about sibling rivalry and messy family dynamics. Indeed, the moral here is the importance of recognizing that sometimes “messy” is the best one can expect.

 

Having figured out some of the means by which the "dream realm" operates, Stevie, her
younger brother Elliot, and his beloved stuffed giraffe, Baloney Tony — brought to
chatterbox life — find a highly unusual means of transportation.

The story — written by Benson, Woo and Stanley Moore — opens on an idyllic tableau, finding 4-year-old Stevie enjoying one of her favorite activities: making breakfast pancakes with her parents. All three are mutually devoted; Dad (Simu Liu) and Mom (Cristin Milioti) share a career as musical partners.

But as a slightly older Stevie (voiced by Jolie Hoang-Rappaport) laments, in voice-over, this is merely a fondly remembered dream. “This is a disaster movie,” Stevie insists. The actual disaster? The fourth addition to the family, her younger brother Elliot (Elias Janssen), with whom Stevie is forced to share a bedroom.

 

Elliot is a relentless pest, forever in Stevie’s face, whether trying to impress her with silly magic tricks, or simply being annoying. He clearly just wants to be an important part of his big sister’s life, but she isn’t interested. She’s much more concerned about the growing rift between her parents; Mom is interviewing for a job that would take her elsewhere, while her husband — still hankering for songwriting fame — refuses to leave. To Stevie’s additional annoyance, Elliot is oblivious to this potential crisis.

 

For Stevie, dreams are a way of fixing things in the real world. A storybook depiction of a magical dream being known as the Sandman fascinates both children; after reciting a mystical incantation, they discover that they can remain conscious while dreaming, thereby altering what they experience. 

 

“Find me,” the distant Sandman intones, “and your dreams will come true.”

 

The resulting “dream realm” is a chaotic whirlwind of imaginative pocket lands populated by colorfully exaggerated creatures concocted from real-world experiences. Elliot’s beloved stuffed giraffe, Baloney Tony (Craig Robinson), bursts into wisecracking life, serving as a snarky, often frightened Greek chorus to subsequent events. Frolicking breakfast foods hearken back to Stevie’s cherished memories of making pancakes with her parents.

The Twits: An overcooked disappointment

The Twits (2025) • View trailer

Two stars (out of five). Rated PG, for rude humor and mild dramatic intensity

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

Roald Dahl has been treated remarkably well by filmmakers over the years, whether his charming children’s classics (Matilda, the various versions of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory), his slightly grimmer kid-lit novels (Fantastic Mr. Fox, The Witches) and even his sardonic, adult-oriented short stories (The Wonderful World of Henry Sugar and Three More).

 

Beesha and Bubsy are horrified to discover, via a television news broadcast, that they're
accused of stealing the blue-furred Muggle-Wumps ... when, in fact, the children freed
the creatures from inhumane captivity.

I therefore approached this one with enthusiasm, particularly since co-director Phil Johnston brought us the cleverly entertaining Zootopia and Wreck-It Ralph.

Sigh...

 

This adaptation of Dahl’s 1980 children’s novella is a mess: poor pacing, dumb songs (by David Byrne, no less), a cavalier approach to the source material, protracted filler sidebars, and the bewildering — and wholly inappropriate — insertion of a contemporary American political message, all of which make the film’s 98 minutes feel like an eternity.

 

On the positive side, the animation style definitely suits the material, and the voice talent is fine. Too bad Johnston and co-scripter Meg Favreau didn’t give the actors better dialogue. The inane butt jokes quickly wear thin.

 

The saga emerges as a bedtime story, told by mother bed bug Pippa (voiced by Emilia Clarke) to her young son, Jeremy (Sami Amber). The boy occasionally interrupts the narrative to ask a question, or express concern about what will happen next. It’s a cute framing device ... and, arguably, the film’s strongest asset.

 

Credenza S. Twit (Margo Martindale) and James T. Twit (Johnny Vegas), an ill-kempt, spiteful and mean-spirited married couple, are united in mutual hatred. They gleefully pull pranks on each other, such as hiding a frog in their bed, or making a spaghetti dinner with worms. They live in the otherwise bucolic community of Triperot, in a gadget-laden house (a shameless lift from Wallace & Gromit).

 

But the otherwise misanthropic couple share a devotion to their passion project: a theme park dubbed Twitlandia, laden with outrageously dangerous rides such as flying outhouses and a rickety Ferris Wheel. Everything is powered by the tears of three exotic, blue-furred simians known as Muggle-Wumps: magical creatures long ago captured from Loompaland, named Marty (Timothy Simmons), his wife Mary (Natalie Portman) and their young daughter Mandy (Israa Zainab).

 

When stressed — which is frequent — Marty barfs up ambulatory furry stress balls, known as Florbnorbles, which cause all manner of mischief.

 

Sketch: Colorfully imaginative

Sketch (2024) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG, for scary fantasy action and kid-level rude humor

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

Family-friendly films that persuasively deal with childhood grief are rare, and writer/director Seth Worley takes a cheekily original approach with this enjoyable little indie. His touch is Spielberg lite.

 

Amber (Bianca Belle, left), her brother Jack (Kue Lawrence, center) and tag-along frenemy
Bowman (Kalon Cox) are horrified to discover that they're being stalked by the enormous
"Blind One," one of many creatures brought to life from Amber's imagination.

Ten-year-old Amber Wyatt (Bianca Belle), artistic by nature, is deeply unhappy. She’s unable to process the unexpected death of her mother, Ally, and succumbs to dark thoughts that manifest in violent scrawled drawings. They’re dominated by monsters, blood and imagined revenge for other things that bother her ... such as unwanted attention from school mate Bowman Lynch (Kalon Cox).

Amber isn’t quite a brat, but she’s willful, sullen, disrespectful and difficult to handle.

 

Her 12-year-old brother Jack (Kue Lawrence) and their father, Taylor (Tony Hale), are stoic on the subject ... primarily because the latter has removed all traces of Ally from the house, which he also intends to sell as quickly as possible. Their refusal to face the loss is perhaps even less healthy, but Taylor is stuck; up to this point, Jack has quietly followed his lead.

 

Worley takes his time with this first act, establishing the daily school bus dynamics between these three children and several others, and the easily exasperated driver, Miss Thompson (Randa Newman). Taylor has put his Realtor sister Liz (D’Arcy Carden) in charge of selling the house; she cautions him every day to be absent when prospective buyers are expected, but — in a cute running gag — something always forces him to interrupt, much to Liz’s eye-rolling vexation.

 

Liz gets it, though; at one telling moment, she asks if Taylor truly wants to sell the house.

 

He briefly hesitates, prompting her to say, “You paused” (a line we’ll hear again).

 

When some of Amber’s drawings come to the attention of school counselor Dr. Land (Nadia Benavides, marvelous in this brief role), the girl is surprised by the result. Instead of a lecture, she’s given a fresh notebook, as Dr. Land points out that it’s better to put the darkness on paper, rather than leaving it bottled up inside, where it could fester and prompt harmful, real-life behavior.

 

She begins to fill the notebook pages with renewed enthusiasm, and eventually — at a crucial bonding moment — allows her father to see what she has drawn. This is a wonderful scene, with the two of them seated in the family car, particularly when Taylor is given the opportunity to prove how much his loves his daughter. Hale and Belle are note-perfect.

 

Meanwhile ... while exploring the nearby woods, texting and not paying attention to his surroundings, Jack stumbles, crashes down a slope, and stops at the edge of a large pond. His hand is badly cut; his phone falls into the water. When fished out, the screen is cracked.

 

The following morning, Jack is surprised to see that his hand is fully healed, the phone good as new. Further experimentation reveals that the pond has the ability to make things whole.

Elio: Out of this world

Elio (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, for animated action peril

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.29.25

Pixar still has the touch.

 

Although this wildly imaginative sci-fi fable is one of the animation studio’s goofiest, the story nonetheless is fueled by the essential element common to all of the best Pixar films: relatable human angst. Within minutes, our hearts ache for the title character (voiced by Yonas Kibreab): a lonely little boy still mourning the unexpected loss of his parents.

 

Since Elio is believed to be the official ambassador from the planet Earth, he's formally
introduced to all the dignitaries in the celestial Communiverse.

Pixar animators excel at conveying emotion, via the slump-shouldered set of the boy’s body, his doleful gaze and mournful expression. He’s lonely ... achingly lonely.

And, like any adolescent under such circumstances, he acts out: much to the consternation of his Aunt Olga (Zoe Saldaña), in whose care the boy has been placed. A brilliant Air Force major who has put her career partially on hold, she hasn’t any clue about how to handle her rebellious nephew.

 

His head literally is in the stars. Convinced that he can’t possibly fit into his current environment, the space-obsessed boy repeatedly tries to make contact with extra-terrestrials, hoping that he can be “abducted by aliens” to a happier, more magical place. He comes by this fixation honestly; Olga is stationed at California’s coastal Montez Air Force Base, where she and her team monitor satellite and orbiting debris activity.

 

The story’s first quick-cut comedy shot — of Elio lying on a beach, surrounded by an abduction plea scooped in the sand — is hilarious.

 

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the boy, in a galaxy far, far away ...

 

... various planetary dignitaries belonging to the benevolent Communiverse have long studied our Voyager 1 spacecraft, launched back in 1977 with its “golden record” that showcases Earth’s diversity via greetings, sounds and images. (Yep, there’s real science at the root of this saga.) They’re therefore primed when, through luck and happenstance, they intercept one of Elio’s ham radio messages.

 

And — poof! — he’s beamed light-years away, to the Communiverse.

 

Thanks to Ooooo (Shirley Henderson) — a liquid supercomputer that accommodates and assists species of all kinds who visit — and an amazing Universal User’s Manual, Elio is able to communicate with the strangest and most colorful assortment of aliens ever to grace the silver screen. 

 

Their primary spokespeople are Ambassador Questa (Jameela Jamil), a 15-foot-tall leafy pink sea dragon who hails from the planet Gom; and Ambassador Helix (Brandon Moon), a purplish blob with prominent eyebrows, who hails from the planet Falluvinum.

 

They assume that Elio is Earth’s official ambassador, a belief the quick-witted boy chooses not to correct. (Goodness, no; he’s having too much fun!)

Lilo & Stitch: Maika'i loa!

Lilo & Stitch (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, for mild dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

I’ve not been a fan of Disney’s live-action remakes of its animated classics, many of which feel like bloated cash grabs — March’s Snow White being Exhibit A — but this one is a happy exception.

 

Bringing her new "pet" to a fancy luau, where her older sister is working, proves to be a
disastrous idea ... which Lilo (Maia Kealoha) is about to discover, to her dismay.

Director Dean Fleischer Camp has retained the buoyant energy that made this new production’s 2002 predecessor so much fun, while writers Chris Kekaniokalani Bright and Mike Van Waes have enhanced the Hawaiian cultural element.

That said, this film’s super power is the sparkling performance by young star Maia Kealoha, graced with impressively natural acting chops. She owns this film ... and that’s no easy feat, given the competition from her manic, blue-furred, deer-eared co-star.

 

This displaced extraterrestrial is brought to amazing life via visual effects supervisor Craig Hammack’s team, and the finely tuned skills of puppeteer Seth Hays (whose work we’ve enjoyed, as one of Grogu’s puppeteers on The Mandalorian).

 

Granted, I miss the lush, hard-painted watercolor animation of the 2002 film, which enhanced the lyrical beauty of the story’s Hawaiian setting. But credit where due: Camp and production designer Todd Cherniawsky have carefully given this (mostly) live-action romp its own island vibe, which gets additional dazzle thanks to cinematographer Nigel Bluck.

 

Even the animal shelter — which plays a key role in this story — was “dressed” in one of the buildings within the lush 700+ acres of Fong’s Garden Planation, in Kaneohe, Oahu.

 

But the story actually begins far, far away, during a United Galactic Federation tribunal on the planet Turo, conducted by the imperious Grand Councilwoman (voiced by Hannah Waddingham). The accused: egotistical, villainous scientist Jumba (Zach Galifianakis), who has violated all manner of laws by creating a dangerous biological creature known only as Experiment 626, intending it to be the ultimate weapon.

 

It's indestructible, lightning-swift, ferociously smart and adaptable, and incredibly strong, despite its diminutive size. Alas, it’s too smart; sensing the nature of these proceedings, 626 escapes its escape-proof cage, hijacks a small spacecraft and — by chance — sets the heading for an insignificant distant planet known as “Eee-rth.”

 

The pragmatic Grand Councilwoman is in favor of vaporizing the planet, once 626 arrives, until she’s reminded that Eee-rth is the sole habitat of a protected galactic species: the mosquito.

 

She therefore orders Jumba to head to Eee-rth, in order to “clean up his mess.” He’ll be supervised by the overly enthusiastic Pleakley (Billy Magnussen), a mid-level Galactic Federation administrator with unrestrained fan-boy interest in otherworldly life and culture.

Pets: Massive cute attack!

Pets (2025) • View trailer

Five stars (out of five). Not rated, and suitable for all ages

Available via: Disney+

By Derrick Bang

Director Bryce Dallas Howard wanted her charming documentary to be a “dopamine hit.” 

 

She succeeded. And then some.

 

Sergi has spent years traveling along Spain's Catalan coast in a kayak. He alleviated the
loneliness by adopting a dog, Nirvana, whom he taught to become comfortable aboard
the tiny craft (after overcoming an initial bout of doggie seasickness). They became
inseparable.d

This isn’t merely a valentine to the deep and extraordinary relationships that can develop between animals and their people; it’s also a celebration of the pets and people themselves, in all of their wild, wacky, loving, thoughtful and sobering glory.

You’ll laugh, cry, giggle, swoon and everything in between. Constantly. Helplessly.

 

Although enjoyable by viewers of all ages, Howard’s film will be particularly adored by children, who will see versions of themselves during the many brief “talking heads” sequences that feature youngsters.

 

The film focuses upon half a dozen adult individuals and couples, all of whom have made animals their life’s work, also because they enjoy being around them so much. 

 

Each of those segments is bracketed by several of the couple dozen children, ranging from young adolescents to teenagers, who candidly and enthusiastically discuss their pets, or answer off-camera questions. The responses range from silly and amusing, to unexpectedly profound, all demonstrating anew what Art Linkletter proved back in the day: Kids say the darndest things.

 

These off-the-cuff remarks are in turn interspersed with fleeting “silly animal” film clips, revealing how adorable, unpredictable, delightful and — most of all — loving pets can be.

 

I’ve no idea how casting producers Juliet Axon, Nefertiti Jones and Ellen Martinez found all these folks — and particularly the children — but they’re all marvelous.

 

Howard and editors Edward A. Bishop and Andrew Morreale open with a rat-a-tat montage of heart-melting moments. A little girl bursts into tears when she realizes that her parents have gifted her with a black kitten. Another child observes that “Your house feels more fun when you have animals along with you,” while a third suggests that God made pets “...like mimes and magicians in an animal.”

 

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.