Winter Spring Summer or Fall: A romantic charmer

Winter Spring Summer or Fall (2024) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for teen drug and alcohol use, and brief profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.31.25

Ever since writer John Hughes started what became a popular sub-genre with Pretty in Pink and Some Kind of Wonderful, back in the late 1980s, one or two similarly witty, dialogue-heavy and sharply observed young romance films — blessed with similarly charismatic stars — have arrived every decade.

 

After initially failing to click, Remi (Jenna Ortega) and Barnes (Percy Hynes White)
gradually begin to enjoy each other's company. But can their relationship survive two
divergent career paths?

Before Sunrise (and its two sequels) and Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist immediately spring to mind.

This one belongs in their company.

 

Dan Schoffer’s cleverly structured narrative — which owes a nod to Alan Alda’s The Four Seasons — is matched by Tiffany Paulsen’s noteworthy feature directorial debut. Her touch is just right with each character, although she’s fortunate that stars Jenna Ortega and Percy Hynes White already share combustible chemistry. 

 

Although films of this sort are by nature fantasies, they work when we become invested in the characters; that happens quickly here.

 

(Fair warning: Viewers inclined toward cynical smirks and rolled eyes are advised to seek their pleasure elsewhere.)

 

High School senior Barnes Hawthorne (Hynes White) spots Remi Aguilar (Ortega) one winter day, while visiting his friend P.J. (Elias Kacavas), who lives across the street from her. P.J. explains that the young woman is super-smart, and has just completed a Google Fellowship interview. Barnes’ expression is thoughtful, his gaze intrigued.

 

Later that day, Barnes and Remi wind up on the same train; he’s attending a concert in New York, and she has an appointment to tour Columbia University. After some initial awkwardness — “I’m not a stalker,” he somewhat ineptly insists — they begin chatting, and share plans following their completion of high school. She intends to attend Harvard and become a lawyer, like her parents; he desires an unspecified gap year.

 

Little realizing that it makes her sound pushy, Remi suggests that he could use the time productively, by volunteering with sea turtles or working with a music group. (She comes by this behavior naturally, as we’ll discover after spending some time with her parents.) Barnes, sensing things aren’t working, counters by extoling the virtues of David Byrne and the Talking Heads.

 

Despite some mildly graceless conversational misfires, Barnes keeps trying. Alas, matters take an unfortunate turn after they disembark, and the already weak connection is severed.

 

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice: A double-barreled delight

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, somewhat generously, for violent content, macabre and bloody images, strong language and suggestive material

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.1.24

Jimmy Webb must be tickled by the fact that somebody successfully concocted a plot point to the nonsensical lyrics he wrote for “MacArthur Park.”

 

When the escalating supernatural chaos subsides for a bit, Lydia (Winona Ryder, right)
and her daughter Astrid (Jenna Ortega) enjoy a bonding moment while looking at an
old photo album.

That’s merely one of several hilarious musical moments in director Tim Burton’s whacked-out revival of everybody’s favorite undead demon, played once again with throaty impudence by Michael Keaton.

All the familiar elements are once again in play, from the orchestral drum-beat of Danny Elfman’s title theme, to cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos’ disorienting opening montage, which eerily blurs the line between bucolic, small-town community and a tabletop miniature of same.

 

Burton and his writers — Alfred Gough, Miles Millar and Seth Grahame-Smith — have enhanced the ookiness and playful gore, while also adding a degree of danger. The first film may have been all in good (if zany) fun, but this one has a genuinely menacing undertone.

 

Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder) has parlayed her earlier experiences into an enormously successful media career, as a professional ghost-chaser. Her manager, Rory (Justin Theroux), is an insufferably snooty fashion plate who fancies himself the trendiest and most sensitive guy on the planet. He’s also in love with Lydia, which — to say the least — seems an odd pairing.

 

The unexpected death of Lydia’s father (played by Jeffrey Jones, in the first film) prompts her return to the long-shuttered family home in bucolic Winter River. She’s joined by her mother, Delia (Catherine O’Hara), and  moody, rebellious teenage daughter, Astrid (Jenna Ortega, immediately recognized from television’s Wednesday). The girl is all but estranged from her mother, and with good reason, having been essentially ignored while Lydia focused on her flourishing career.

 

Astrid has an additional, quite understandably reason for her sullen melancholy; her father — Lydia’s husband — long ago disappeared under mysterious circumstances. As a result, Astrid now has lost both beloved father figures.

 

On top of which, as a dedicated activist and environmentalist, the pragmatic girl doesn’t believe in ghosts. (She’s in for a surprise...)

 

Meanwhile, in Afterlife Central, way down below, the balefully malevolent Delores (Monica Bellucci) reassembles herself, after having been chopped into bits centuries earlier: easily the most grotesquely ghastly sequence Burton ever concocted. Turns out she was Beetlejuice’s lover, way back in the day, until their unhealthy relationship hit an, um, unfortunate snag.

 

Now that she’s back, and possessed of über-creepy soul-sucking powers, she’s determined to pay Beetlejuice back in kind ... and woe to those who get in her way.

 

Scream: Typical slice 'n' dice

Scream (2022) • View trailer

2.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for strong bloody violence, gore, relentless profanity and some sexual references

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 1.14.22

Sigh. Everything old is new again.

 

The Halloween series has risen from the grave repeatedly; 1960’s Psycho was re-imagined as the TV series Bates Motel; and Netflix will debut a re-boot of Texas Chainsaw Massacre next month.

 

With varying levels of interest, skepticism and outright disbelief, the possible next victims
of the ongoing murder spree — from left, Wes (Dylan Minnette), Richie (Jack Quaid),
Sam (Melissa Barrera) and Dewey (David Arquette) — listen while the horrific
situation's "rules" are explained.

Ergo, why not similarly revive Scream?

The first film’s 1996 debut quickly spawned a trilogy that “concluded” four years later. 2011’s Scream 4 attempted — and failed — to breathe new life into the murder sprees occurring in small-town Woodsboro; a three-season television series, from 2015-19, had nothing to do with the franchise beyond borrowing its name.

 

Creator Kevin Williamson’s shrewd “gimmick” — he scripted the first, second and fourth films — is that these characters are well versed in horror films, and speak knowledgably about what one should (and shouldn’t) do, when confronted with a masked killer murder spree.

 

But more often than not, they ignore their own well-researched advice. With predictable results.

 

The movie-obsessed killers, as well, are required to act according to certain genre expectations. Finally, there are three well-established rules:

 

1) Never trust the love interest;

 

2) The killer’s motive always is connected to something in the past; and

 

3) The first victim always belongs to a “friend group” that the killer is part of.

 

As the series progressed, it became increasingly self-referential and meta, with each fresh set of characters (victims) debating the merits (or lack thereof) of a film series — Stab, Stab 2, etc. — that exploits these Woodsboro tragedies. This, in turn, spawns fresh killing sprees by new maniacs concealed behind the Ghostface mask, which prompts further Stab entries. Lather, rinse, repeat.

 

(Honestly, you’d think Woodsboro would have run out of residents by now.)

 

The question, then, is whether this 2022 entry has anything fresh to say. The answer: Slightly yes, mostly no.