The Christophers: A work of art

The Christophers (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five); rated R, for profanity

Available via: Hulu

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.30.26

Once upon a time, this thoughtful character study would have arrived with a visible splash, and enjoyed a modest but well-deserved run at arthouse theaters.

 

Instead, it landed directly in streaming purgatory, likely never to be found by the potential audience that mainstream release would have attracted.

 

Understandably suspicious about the actual reasons for her having entered his life,
Julian (Ian McKellen) tantalizes Lori (Michaela Coel) by showing her where he has 
stashed a long-unfinished series of paintings.

More’s the pity, because considerable talent is on display here.

Ed Solomon’s intriguing original script is essentially a two-hander that would have made a crackling stage play. Director Steven Soderbergh opens up the tableau a bit, granting us a sense of London’s bohemian Fitzrovia district, but our attention is held throughout by the enthralling performances from stars Ian McKellen and Michaela Coel.

 

McKellen effortlessly slides into the role of waspish, once-famous painter Julian Sklar, his glory years long behind him, all but forgotten and holed up in a pair of adjacent townhouses connected via their basements. (A droll running gag: Whenever anybody rings one buzzer, the intercom invariably responds with a testy “Other door!”)

 

Julian is best known to the current generation for his long run as the dismissive star of a cruel, long-running TV show, “Art Fight,” during which would-be artists submitted works live, on camera, hoping for praise and promise. More often than not, Julian instead delighted in cruel jokes and humiliating take-downs.

 

“A cry for help from the paint itself!” is just one example of his scornful assessments. 

 

TV viewers apparently ate it up. (And they would, right? One can but shudder.)

 

Coel plays Lori Butler, an impressively educated art critic familiar with that world in general, painting and painters in particular, and — most pointedly — Sklar, who has been the focus of her withering published commentary for quite some time. She seems to have taken particular delight in detailing his progressive decline.

 

She’s also a part-time forger, which bespeaks considerable talent of her own.

 

We meet Lori first, when she’s approached by Sklar’s children, Barnaby and Sallie (James Corden and Jessica Gunning). The latter knows Lori from their days in art college, and somehow also is aware of her clandestine activities. They want Lori to take a job as Julian’s assistant, so that she’ll have access to a series of unfinished, long-abandoned canvases ... in order to complete them, so that Barnaby and Sallie will have a substantial inheritance when their father dies.

 

The canvases in question are the long-rumored third “Christopher Series,” which — if “suddenly” discovered stashed in Sklar’s townhouse, following his death — would be worth a fortune.

 

With just a few deft strokes, via dialogue and body language, Corden and Gunning establish Barnaby and Sallie as venal, grasping and thoroughly despicable clods.

Don't Say Good Luck: A poignant character drama

Don't Say Good Luck (2026) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five); rated PG-13, for thematic material, fleeting profanity, teen drinking and mild sexual references

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

Sunny Sandler’s delicately nuanced starring performance fuels this charming little character drama, although — in fairness — director Julia Hart draws finely shaded work from every member of this carefully assembled cast.

 

Sophie (Sunny Sandler, left) and her mother Elizabeth (Melanie Lynskey) make the most
of a mall outing designed to help the young woman improve her stage confidence.

As I well recall from her handling of 2020’s equally captivating Stargirl, Hart excels at depicting the bond between adults and teenagers, whether parents and their children, or — also, in this case — drama coaches and their nervous young actors.

The setting is a contemporary suburban community — principle filming took place in New Jersey — with much of the action centered at Westridge High School. Sophie (Sandler) wakens on a typically bustling morning in the Birenbaum household, due to her irrepressibly mischievous younger twin brothers, Caleb and Ethan (Matan and Eitan Friedman), barely controlled by harried parents Ted (Max Greenfield) and Elizabeth (Melanie Lynskey).

 

Today is a big day for Sophie: tryouts for the annual school play. Elizabeth shares some encouraging words with her daughter, before Sophie heads for school; they’re both amused when Ted accidentally butt-dials his phone, allowing them to hear his downstairs hijinks with the boys.

 

That narrative gimmick is a clever ongoing touch in the script by Hart, Laura Hankin and Jordan Horowitz.

 

Once the school day concludes, Sophie, bestie Carolyn (Scarlett Estevez) and all the other members of the school drama club gather in the multi-purpose room. Because the selected play is the musical version of Waitress, adapted from the 2007 film of the same title, the drama club’s regular advisor, Mr. Stuart (Joel Waggoner), has surrendered the reins to musical theater coach Ms. Parker (Stephanie Beatriz).

 

All the students know that resident drama club diva Mallory Sinclair (Elyse Bell) is destined for the starring role of Jenna; Sophie hopes to get the quirky supporting role of Dawn.

 

Elsewhere, though, this also is a fateful day for Sophie’s parents, who have an appointment with Elizabeth’s oncologist. The news is bad: The cancer that she and Ted hoped had gone into remission, has returned ... with a vengeance.

 

And as this awful verdict is delivered, Ted’s phone once again butt-dials Sophie ... just as Ms. Parker calls her to the stage.

Spider-Man: Brave New Day — Action and angst

Spider-Man: Brave New Day (2026) • View trailer

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

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.9.26

After the chaotic multiverse complexity of 2021’s Spider-Man: No Way Home — a score card was needed, to keep track of all the superheroes, super villains and spider guys from three different Earths — this one is a welcome relief.

 

Spider-Man (Tom Holland) and NYPD Detective Jean DeWolff (Liza Colón-Zayas) survey
the wreckage after a massive tank truck rams into a government building occupied by
the somewhat mysterious Department of Damage Control.

Indeed, I deem it the best entry in star Tom Holland’s run as the title character. Just one spider guy here, a couple Marvel Comics colleagues, only a few super villains — including Spidey’s primary antagonist, who remains a mystery until the film’s second half — and a sensible plot that’s easy to follow.

The Chris McKenna/Erik Sommers script is much tighter, and better focused, than the previous films.

 

Fourth time’s the charm, I guess.

 

Back to some semblance of a normal life, Spider-Man has become New York City’s very public resident hero. He enjoys a good working relationship with the local police force, and frequently liaises with NYPD Detective Jean DeWolff (Liza Colón-Zayas, appropriately take-charge).

 

But he’s achingly lonely.

 

For reasons compelled by events in the prior film, the existence of Spidey’s civilian self, Peter Parker, has been wiped from everybody’s memory. That includes best friend Ned Leeds (Jacob Batalon) and former girlfriend MJ (Zendaya). Given that Peter’s beloved Aunt May (Marisa Tomei) also died during No Way Home, that leaves the poor guy even more isolated than usual.

 

Which, honestly, always has been the character’s most compelling feature. As originally conceived by writer Stan Lee and artist Steve Ditko, back in the early 1960s, Peter was a nerdish bookworm and social outcast, which made him relatable to readers. (Back in those days, Superman and Batman never had social problems.)

 

Holland handles angst and loneliness quite well, and many of this film’s best moments occur when the guy is out of uniform. The yearning in Peter’s gaze, when he sees couples and groups enjoying each other, is palpable. And heartbreaking, because Peter still loves MJ, even though — in effect — she never has met him.

 

But somebody always needs saving, some local crisis averted, and some crooks need to be caught, so Spider-Man is kept busy. (I’m not sure how Peter puts food on the table, since there’s no indication of any sort of civilian job. Maybe Aunt May left him a lot of money?)

 

But full-time superhero work takes its toll. Enhanced abilities and high-tech Spider-Man suit notwithstanding, Peter is human. He’s battered and bruised all over, and he also isn’t as quick as he was, back in the day. 

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.

Color Book: An exquisite character piece

Color Book (2024) • View trailer

4.5 stars (out of five); rated R, for occasional profanity

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.28.26

Writer/director David Fortune’s sensitively assembled little film completely erases the divide between viewer and screen; from the very first frame, it feels more like eavesdropping on two actual people.

 

Although this day begins with the excitement of attending an Atlanta Braves baseball
game, the journey for Mason (Jeremiah Alexander Davis, left) and Lucky (William
Catlett) will have unexpected hiccups.

This is a quiet story, constructed from a series of tender little moments that develop into an emotion-laden journey. Following a brief prologue, events take place during a single day. The characters are so well constructed, the performances so lovely, authentic and perfectly modulated, that we’re wholly immersed.

And, at times, genuinely worried.

 

The setting is present-day Atlanta, in a poorer part of the city. Lucky (William Catlett) and his adolescent son Mason (Jeremiah Alexander Daniels) are emotionally damaged, still grieving the unexpected loss of Lucky’s wife, and the boy’s mother, Tammy (Brandee Evans, in a few fleeting flashback sequences).

 

Mason has Down syndrome; we meet him early one morning, as he painstakingly strings beads. Lucky helps the boy into formal clothing; they make waffles. Lucky involves his son in the process; Mason pays careful attention, although he’s clearly more excited about the finished product. 

 

This film’s title reflects how Mason spends much of his time illustrating his thoughts via drawings in a coloring book, which gives the boy a secondary method of “speaking” to his father, and to us.

 

Lucky and Mason join friends in a nearby park, for a celebration of Tammy’s life: an initially somber but ultimately cheerful gathering, as everybody shares memories. Mason, fixated by the large cluster of balloons, is given one as this service concludes; he happily clings to it.

 

As everybody departs, Lucky’s friend Rico (rapper Kia Shine Coleman), connected with the Atlanta Braves, gives them tickets to the following evening’s game at Truist Park. Back at home, Lucky helps Mason into bed, reminding the boy to say his prayers before slipping under the covers.

 

Lucky’s bearing, speech and gaze bespeak more than anguish; he’s also exhausted, in body and spirit, from the constant care and attention that Mason requires. This formerly was a responsibility shared with Tammy, but her absence has placed this loving burden solely on Lucky’s shoulders.

 

No resentment is present. Catlett makes it clear that Lucky cherishes his son, attending to the boy with a tender patience resulting from long experience. Even so, this has taken a toll, exacerbated by the day’s activities.

 

And the following day begins on a worse note.

Disclosure Day: The truth is out there

Disclosure Day (2026) • View trailer

4.5 stars (out of five); rated R, for action violence, gruesome images and some profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.14.26 

This is 1977’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind writ very large.

 

Director Steven Spielberg’s original story — fleshed out by skilled genre screenwriter David Koepp — hits the ground running, and trusts viewers to catch up.

 

Despite being surrounded by shadowy agents with orders to apprehend them, each
one unexpectedly steps aside as Margaret (Emily Blunt) and Daniel (Josh O'Connor)
slowly walk toward potential freedom.

The film opens suspensefully on a late-night hostage swap. Dr. Daniel Kellner (Josh O’Connor) apparently stole something quite valuable from Noah Scanlon (Colin Firth), head of WARDEX — “Waived Reporting, Development and Extraction” — a shadowy Department of Defense contractor that apparently answers to nobody. 

This is made clear by the fact that Casper Boyd (Henry Lloyd-Hughes), Scanlon’s go-to “dirty work” field agent, kidnapped Daniel’s girlfriend, Jane (Eve Hewson), in order to facilitate this exchange. It looks fairly cut and dried ... until Daniel raises a small, slender, metallic bipyramid that he holds in one carefully gloved hand.

 

Scanlon and all of his black-garbed associates carefully back away.

 

Daniel and Jane flee, which kicks off the first of this film’s several pell-mell chase sequences. They manage to escape, much to Scanlon’s vexation. (Firth displays an impressive level of barely controlled rage.) But how can they stayhidden, given all the high-tech surveillance resources available to Scanlon? 

 

Meanwhile...

 

Chirpy Kansas City KCXE-TV news meteorologist Margaret Fairchild (Emily Blunt), after completing a day’s work, returns home to boyfriend Jackson (Wyatt Russell), a low-stress musician and Fruit Loops-loving Everyman. The following morning, before she leaves for the morning shift, they’re startled when a red cardinal flies in an open window and perches on the kitchen table. 

 

And stares at her. She stares back, trance-like, Blunt’s expression suddenly a blank, wordless slate.

 

Shaking herself from this fugue, she rushes off to work. After arriving at KCXE, she suddenly starts speaking in foreign languages ... including, as this scene’s uneasy atmosphere builds, a series of guttural clicks, burps and grunts that don’t sound the slightest bit human.

 

Shortly thereafter, she feels a strange, strong pull to go “somewhere else,” much to Jackson’s bewilderment. Somewhere north. 

 

Throughout scenes with these two sets of characters, disturbing radio reports and TV news broadcasts warn of the rapidly increasing probability of a world-wide nuclear war. The threat level jumps to DEFCON 2.

Miss You, Love You: Captivating character study

Miss You, Love You (2026) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five); rated TV-MA, for profanity

Available via: HBO

By Derrick Bang

Two-handers are a challenge on film, because they often feel like plays that wandered into the wrong medium, losing some of their live-on-stage intensity in the process.

 

That isn’t an issue when one of the performers is Oscar winner Allison Janney.

 

As time passes, Diane (Allison Janney) and Jamie (Andrew Rannells) learn a lot about
each other, including the fact that they're both wounded sparrows.

We expect great work from her, and she certainly delivers. This film’s biggest surprise is that co-star Andrew Rannells matches her, line for line, and scene for scene.

Their shared energy is nurtured by writer/director Jim Rash, who grants them a beguiling premise, plenty of tart dialogue, and numerous revelatory exchanges that ramp up the emotional intensity.

 

We’re dumped into the story without preamble, as Jamie Simms (Rannells) parks in the driveway of an attractive New Mexico suburban home, adjacent to nearby desert land. He drags out luggage for what we assume will be a lengthy stay, knocks on the door, and confronts Diane Patterson (Janney), who doesn’t know him from Adam.

 

What initially seems like rude hostility actually is a blend of anger, disappointment and crippling grief. She’s mourning her recently deceased husband, whose departure was preceded by a lengthy battle with Parkinson’s. She hoped that her estranged son Tyler would help her handle the necessary details; instead, he sent Jamie, his assistant.

 

Which, yes, feels coldly insensitive.

 

Jamie, wide-eyed and inappropriately prepped, visibly shrinks under her withering verbal explosion of dismay. She doesn’t shout or screen — Diane is too refined for that — but Janney employs plenty of perfectly articulated, pent-up spite in order to intimidate her visitor.

 

“Am I a lot?” she scathingly asks, after pausing for breath.

 

“No,” Jamie politely lies.

 

“That’s a shame,” she snaps back, “because I’m trying to be.”

 

Resignation eventually sets in; Diane does need help, and the solicitous Jamie won’t be cowed into retreat. He explains that Tyler wanted to help, but is hung up waiting to interview a former POW in Khartoum; he has promised to come as soon as he can. Tyler and Jamie text each other relentlessly, which also annoys Diane. (How could it not?)

 

Jamie notices that Diane seems to be killing the potted succulents that her late husband Henry left behind. (That’ll prompt a smile from gardeners, who know full well that one must work very hard to kill a succulent.)

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.

 

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.

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.

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.