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.)

Juror #2: Motion to find this drama engaging!

Juror #2 (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity and occasional profanity

Available via: MAX

By Derrick Bang

Twisty courtroom thrillers have been scarce lately, and this one’s a corker.

 

Jonathan A. Abrams’ sharp script — an impressive screenwriting debut — is well matched with director Clint Eastwood’s capably measured approach. The first half hour sets up expectations of a feisty battle between prosecutor Faith Killebrew (Toni Collette) and defense attorney Eric Resnick (Chris Messina), possibly moving into 12 Angry Men territory, involving a lone hold-out during jury deliberations.

 

Justin (Nicholas Hoult, second from left in the front row) soon realizes that he likely knows
more than the rest of his fellow jurors. They include Harold (J.K. Simmons, two seats to
Justin's left.)

But no. Abrams’ plot is more twisty ... and while he does include a nod to that famous 1954 Reginald Rose stage play-turned-film, things move in unexpected directions.

The setting is Savannah, Georgia. Justin Kemp (Nicholas Hoult), a recovering alcoholic four years sober, writes for a regional lifestyle magazine. He’s married to Allison (Zoey Deutch), nine months into a high-risk pregnancy, after previous efforts failed. She’s understandably anxious and clinging, and the last thing she wants is for Justin to get tagged after showing up for a jury summons.

 

Their initial dynamic feels brittle, which Hoult and Deutch handle persuasively. She’s a fragile mess, and he’s patient and solicitous to an exaggerated degree. It becomes clear that, just as Allison doesn’t want to do anything to screw up her pregnancy, Justin doesn’t want to betray the second chance that she gave him, four years earlier.

 

Justin does indeed get selected, after an amusing exchange with Judge Thelma Hollub (Amy Aquino, always solid). It’s a murder trial, with James Michael Sythe (Gabriel Basso) accused of killing his girlfriend, Kendall Carter (Francesca Eastwood), after a nasty spat at The Hideaway, their favorite bar. 

 

As recounted in flashback — by several witnesses — a few details change, Rashomon-style. Even so, the core events seem solid: Sythe and Carter argued, and he broke a bottle; they continued to yell at each other outside, in the pouring rain; she left in a huff, walking down the darkened road; after a brief pause, he got into his car and followed her.

 

A hiker found Carter’s body the next morning, in a creek channel beneath a bridge along the same road.

 

Killebrew builds a solid case, based primarily on Sythe’s sketchy history and longtime aggressive behavior. But as Resnick subsequently points out, nobody saw his client kill Carter; the evidence is entirely circumstantial. As a sidebar, Killebrew has tied this case to her election campaign for district attorney; she can’t lose. This adds an unsavory note to Collette’s performance, as we wonder whether Killebrew’s judgment is compromised.

The Outfit: Well tailored

The Outfit (2022) • View trailer

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

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

The show must go on, as the venerable saying goes, and two years’ worth of Covid restrictions and limitations forced filmmakers to think way outside the box.

 

Sometimes — as in this case — with remarkably clever results.

 

Leonard (Mark Rylance) and his assistant, Mable (Zoey Deutch), are about to endure
an unusual — and increasingly dangerous — night.

Graham Moore makes a stylish feature directorial debut with The Outfit, a cheeky period crime thriller laden with Hitchcockian touches. Moore and co-scripter Johnathan McClain have concocted a claustrophobic, tension-laden scenario that would succeed equally well as a stage play, but doesn’t feel the slightest bit constrained as a cinematic experience.

(Moore shared an Academy Award for co-scripting 2014’s equally engaging The Imitation Game. He definitely has a way with plot and well-sculpted characters.)

 

The setting is early 1950s Chicago. Leonard Burling (Mark Rylance), a soft-spoken ex-pat Brit, has established a successful corner-shop career as a talented maker of fine suits. (“I’m a cutter,” he patiently insists, more than once, “not a tailor.”) 

 

Moore opens the film with a lengthy sequence as Leonard explains his craft — in voiceover — while we watch how a suit emerges from paper patterns and four different kinds of fabric. Because of the quietly reverential quality of Rylance’s narration, and the fascinating process itself — so esoteric, and highlighted by an old-world attention to precision — this prologue is totally captivating.

 

(If you assume this introduction is insignificant, think again; Leonard’s calmly measured recitation has an ingenious third-act payoff.)

 

Leonard’s customers are greeted by Mable (Zoey Deutch), his receptionist/assistant. Their relationship is friendly and cordial; the affection and mutual respect are obvious … although Leonard, wholly at peace with his place in the world, is amused by Mable’s restlessness.

 

But not everybody coming through the front door is a customer. Numerous daily visitors bypass Mable — she never looks up — and head straight to Leonard’s rear cutting room, where they place sealed packets into a lockbox. The shop is a drop-off point for protection money payments, and the neighborhood is under the thumb of organized crime.

 

As it happens, Leonard’s best customer, Roy Boyle (Simon Russell Beale), is the local boss.

Zombieland: Double Tap — Bloody good fun

Zombieland: Double Tap (2019) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated R, for strong bloody violence, relentless profanity, drug use and sexual candor
By Derrick Bang 

Director Ruben Fleischer made an impressive big-screen feature debut with 2009’s Zombieland, applying his snarky sense of humor — honed by television work alongside Jimmy Kimmel and Zach Galifianakis — to an equally outrageous script from Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick.

Temporarily without wheels, and now saddled with the bubble-brained Madison (Zoey
Deutch, far left), our heroes — from left, Wichita (Emma Stone), Columbus (Jesse
Eisenberg) and Tallahassee (Woody Harrelson) — ponder their next move.

They also were blessed by an impressive cast, although that wasn’t entirely obvious at the time: Woody Harrelson (one Oscar nomination, two more to come); Abigail Breslin (still riding high on her Oscar nomination for Little Miss Sunshine); Jesse Eisenberg (not yet a breakout star, one Oscar nomination to come); and Emma Stone (also not yet noticed, with a Best Actress Oscar to come).

The result was an outrageously tasteless and frequently hilarious take on the whole zombie phenomenon: a thoroughly successful American response to Britain’s equally outré Shaun of the Dead.

Indeed, Zombieland was so successful that it begged for a sequel … but then, well, Eisenberg and Stone became rather famous. And quite busy.

So here we are, a full decade later, and the question is obvious: Can lightning strike again, after so much time has passed?

Answer: certainly.

Mind you, we’re talking about an “out there” level of success. This franchise is a guilty pleasure at best, thanks to a mutilated and blood-splattered level of gore commonly associated with George Romero’s more serious — and similarly gruesome — Living Dead entries. The faint of heart and easily offended are advised to steer veryclear.

As for the rest of us … what can I say? We have sick minds. (I make no apologies.)

The same period of story time has passed for veteran zombie hunters Tallahassee (Harrelson), Columbus (Eisenberg), Wichita (Stone) and Little Rock (Breslin). They’ve set up housekeeping in the White House, where its priceless historical relics are treated with varying degrees of respect or contempt. The quartet occasionally ventures outside to hone essential survival skills, by blasting, slicing, dicing and stomping modest staggers of zombies.

Eisenberg once again supplies necessary back-story and running voice-over commentary in Columbus’ insufferably nerdy (but always amusing) manner, while reminding us of the inexhaustible list of rules that have kept their little gang alive: Limber up, to prepare for the inevitable running away; the Buddy System, to watch your back; the Double Tap, because one shouldn’t be stingy with bullets; and — most important — Never be afraid to ask (scream) for help.

While Columbus enthusiastically reminds us of these essential commandments, they also appear on-screen via playful text animation: a sight gag that never gets tired.

Before I Fall: A thoughtful little fantasy

Before I Fall (2017) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated PG-13, dramatic intensity and considerable bad behavior by teens
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.3.17

This could be subtitled Mean Girls Meets Groundhog Day.

The party is going well, which means that Lindsay (Halston Sage, far left) and her posse —
from left, Sam (Zoey Deutch), Ally (Cynthy Wu) and Elody (Medalion Rahimi) — already
have humiliated a fair number of peers. Sadly, the worst is yet to come.

But while there’s considerable truth to that mash-up designation, Maria Maggenti’s adaptation of Lauren Oliver’s young adult novel is reasonably inventive in its own right; the narrative doesn’t succumb to potential pitfalls, and a third-act twist is a clever surprise. Director Ry Russo-Young draws credible performances from her young cast, and the result is a solid improvement over her earlier efforts (the little-seen Nobody Walks and You Won’t Miss Me).

But Russo-Young and Maggenti partially sabotage their efforts with superfluous voice-over narration and a wholly unnecessary flash-forward framing device, both of which imply that we dumb viewers aren’t savvy enough to follow the story on its own merits. While this likely is an effort to replicate the inner thoughts of the central character in Oliver’s book, film is a different medium. Contemplative narration that works on the page falls flat on the screen, feeling too much like a New Age sermon. (“Maybe for you there’s a tomorrow...”)

All concerned should have more faith: The core gimmick isn’t that hard to follow, and Zoey Deutch’s heartfelt performance easily anchors the action.

She stars as Samantha (Sam) Kingston, who wakens on what she assumes will be an average day ... which is to say, another opportunity to behave like the other condescending, insufferably spoiled bee-yatches in her posse: Ally (Cynthy Wu), Elody (Medalion Rahimi) and most particularly the hateful Lindsay (Halson Sage). All four wear upper-class entitlement on their designer sleeves. (Indeed, everybody in this community seems to have more money than God.)

This particular day is marked at the local high school with a pre-Valentine’s Day celebration dubbed Cupid Day, when single roses are sent by secret admirers. Alas, this is just another cruel exercise in marginalization: The most popular kids compete to see who can amass the biggest armload of roses, while those left out feel even more unloved.

Which, in turn, gives Lindsay another opportunity to taunt those she despises: notably “weird girl” Juliet (Elena Kampouris) and punkish lesbian Anna (Liv Hewson). Sam, Ally and Elody go along with such spiteful behavior because, well, that’s what friends do.

Everything about this day is difficult to endure — for us, as viewers — because of the relentless, self-centered arrogance. It begins when Sam wakes up, and contemptuously dismisses a sweet gesture by little sister Izzy (Erica Tremblay), and is scheduled to conclude after an unsupervised, late-night party, when she loses her virginity to boyfriend Rob (Kian Lawley), a self-centered lout in his own right.

Why Him? — Why bother?

Why Him? (2016) • View trailer 
2.5 stars. Rated R, for sexual candor, vulgarity and relentless profanity
By Derrick Bang

A modest holiday-themed comedy lurks in the bowels of this wildly uneven movie, but it doesn’t escape very often.

Stephanie (Zoey Deutch, left) is more than a little nervous while introducing boyfriend
Laird (James Franco) to her family: from left, parents Ned (Bryan Cranston) and Barb
(Megan Mullally), and younger brother Scotty (Griffin Gluck).

As has become typical of far too much of today’s “lighter” fare, this flick’s infrequent delights — the story credited to Jonah Hill, John Hamburg and Ian Helfer — are buried beneath an avalanche of profanity and vulgarity.

But that’s clearly a generation gap in the classic sense, very much like the behavioral impasse that separates the characters played here by Bryan Cranston and James Franco. The juvenile, foul-mouthed conduct that prompts long-suffering sighs from many (likely older) viewers, is embraced gleefully by the intended target audience (likely millennials).

And so it goes.

In fairness, director John Hamburg draws quite a few genuine laughs throughout his film, thanks mostly to Cranston’s masterful comic timing. He handles long-suffering and put-upon with hilarious panache, as he demonstrated during his numerous seasons on television’s Malcolm in the Middle (before becoming a “serious actor” in big-screen projects).

Why Him? is a comic homecoming for Cranston, and he maximizes the project’s potential. Not since Father of the Bride’s Steve Martin — or Spencer Tracy, depending on one’s preference — has a Dad become so flummoxed over his daughter’s transition to full independence.

Granted, poor Ned Fleming (Cranston) has a lot more to process.

A web-cam 55th birthday greeting from daughter Stephanie (Zoey Deutch) — completing college courses in California, far from her Michigan home town — is marred by the revelation that she has a guy in her life: the hitherto undisclosed Laird Mayhew (Franco), who bursts into Stephanie’s apartment and proceeds to strip.

Laird’s spontaneous disrobing notwithstanding, the presence of a boyfriend isn’t a shock per se; after all, Stephanie is a responsible, self-sufficient 22 years old. But the fact that Ned and wife Barb (Megan Mullally) haven’t heard about this fellow is a bit distressing, particularly since Ned has long enjoyed a mutually close relationship with his only daughter.

Wanting to make up for this gaffe, Stephanie invites her family to Palo Alto for the impending Christmas weekend, so that everybody — which includes her 15-year-old brother Scotty (Griffin Gluck) — can “get acquainted.” This seems a reasonable olive branch, until Ned, Barb and Scotty actually meet Laird.

Everybody Wants Some: College daze

Everybody Wants Some (2016) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated R, for relentless profanity, drug use, sexual candor and brief nudity
By Derrick Bang

Boys will be boys ... and it’s a wonder girls will have anything to do with them.

Texas-born writer/director Richard Linklater hearkens back to his cinematic roots with this new laid-back comedy, which he regards as a “spiritual sequel” to his career-making 1993 hit, Dazed and Confused. That film, set in May 1976, followed the antics of small-town high school kids during their final day of class; this one spends three days in September 1980, during the long weekend preceding the first day of college.

Having commandeered a table at the local disco, Jake (Blake Jenner, center) and his new
friends — from left, Finn (Glen Powell), Willoughby (Wyatt Russell), Dale (J. Quinton
Johnson) and Plummer (Temple Baker) — assess the field to determine which young
ladies are worth pursuing.

The goals — getting drunk, stoned and indulging in recreational sex — haven’t changed, nor has the execution: Although Linklater typically begins with carefully dialogued scripts, he encourages his cast members to expand and improvise, as they become more “in tune” with their characters. The result feels spontaneous and organic, like a well-rehearsed play that has grown from humbler origins.

That said, such riffing isn’t always successful. Many of the guys here feel goofily authentic, their conversation and antics what we’d expect from early ’80s college jocks. A few, however, are way over the top, the young actors in question trying much too hard. By the same token, some of the unstructured interactions sorta drift off into space, never really justifying their existence.

At just a few minutes shy of two full hours, Everybody Wants Some also starts to feel a bit tedious, its episodic nature gradually wearing out its welcome. Better that Linklater and editor Sandra Adair had trimmed more judiciously, and left us wanting more.

Even so, it’s hard to resist the film’s larkish charm, and that of its young cast. At its best moments — which is most of the time — Linklater’s unabashedly autobiographical ode to his own college experience is both fun and funny.

The setting is Southeast Texas State University, where incoming freshman Jake Bradford (Blake Jenner) has left his small-town roots to become one of the newest members of STU’s baseball team. That allows him the best of all possible perks: a room in one of the school’s two frat-like “baseball houses,” far removed from the cramped, apartment-like dorms in which most new students are shoveled.

Jake quickly finds himself one of the low men in a pecking order dominated by seniors McReynolds (Tyler Hoechlin) and Roper (Ryan Guzman), who view it as their responsibility to squash the prima donna instincts of newbies who may have been star athletes in high school, but now are no more than scramblers amid peers who all were stars at their respective schools.