F1 (Joseph Kosinski, 2025)

Cast: Brad Pitt, Damson Idris, Javier Bardem, Kerry Condon, Tobias Menzies, Kim Bodnia, Sarah Niles, Will Merrick, Joseph Balderrama, Abdul Salis, Callie Cooke, Samson Kayo, Simon Kunz. Screenplay: Joseph Kosinski, Ehren Kruger. Cinematography: Claudio Miranda. Production design: Ben Munro, Mark Tildesley. Film editing: Stephen Mirrione. Music: Hans Zimmer. 

Joseph Kosinski's entertaining but unoriginal F1 was one of this year's surprise nominees for the best picture Oscar. Nobody actually gives it much of a chance of winning, and there was much comment on the fact that it took that place of Jafar Panahi's much-praised It Was Just an Accident. As a racing movie, it has the usual plot clichés: rival drivers, big crashes, behind-the-scenes villainy, an inevitable love affair. You might call it a case of déjà vroom.  

Trade Winds (Tay Garnett, 1938)

Fredric March and Joan Bennett in Trade Winds

Cast: Fredric March, Joan Bennet, Ralph Bellamy, Ann Sothern, Sidney Blackmer, Thomas Mitchell, Robert Elliott. Screenplay: Tay Garnett, Dorothy Parker, Alan Campbell, Frank R. Adams. Cinematography: Rudolph Maté. Art direction: Alexander Toluboff, Alexander Golitzen. Film editing: Otho Lovering, Dorothy Spencer. Music: Alfred Newman. 

Tay Garnett's Trade Winds is the product of a trip he took to the Far East, accompanied by  cinematographer James B. Shackelford (credited with "foreign exterior photography" on the film). When he got back to Hollywood, he cobbled together a story that would use the scenic footage Shackelford shot, and then hired a crew of writers that included Dorothy Parker and her husband, Alan Campbell, to come up with a screenplay. What they gave him is a goofy mess about a woman (Joan Bennett) accused of murder who flees to various Asian locales, and a detective (Fredric March) who follows her, trying to collect the $100,000 reward for her capture. Naturally, they fall in love. In addition to March and Bennett, the cast includes Ann Sothern as his (you guessed it) wisecracking secretary and Ralph Bellamy in one of the doofus roles he specialized in during the 1930s. The cast never left the sound stages of Hollywood, where they spent a lot of time posing or walking on treadmills before rear-projection screens that showed Shackelford's footage. It's a rather tiresome adventure comedy with an ending that doesn't make a lot of sense.   

Vigilante (William Lustig, 1982)

Fred Williamson in Vigilante

Cast: Robert Forster, Fred Williamson, Richard Bright, Rutanya Alda, Don Blakely, Joseph Carberry, Willie Colón, Joe Spinell, Carol Lynley, Woody Strode, Vincent Beck. Screenplay: Richard Vetere. Cinematography: James Lemmo. Production design: Mischa Petrow. Film editing: Larry Marinelli. Music: Jay Chattaway. 

William Lustig's Vigilante is a raw, hyper, low-budget version of Michael Winner's Death Wish (1974), and there are those who think it's the more effective movie because its rawness and cheapness make it feel more immediate. Robert Forster plays Eddie Marino, whose son is murdered by a marauding gang that also sends his wife (Rutanya Alda) to the hospital. When a judge on the take lets the bad guys go free, and Eddie's protest gets him jailed for contempt of court, he joins a group led by Nick (Fred Williamson) that's determined to take the law in their own hands. The movie turns out to be a solid endorsement of vigilantism, unconscionable and full of ethnic stereotypes, but undeniably watchable.

Shoeshine (Vittorio De Sica, 1946)

Rinaldo Smordoni and Franco Interlenghi in Shoeshine

Cast: Franco Interlenghi, Rinaldo Smordoni, Annielo Melie. Bruno Ortensi, Emilio Cigoli. Screenplay: Sergio Amidei, Adolfo Franci, Cesare Giulio, Cesare Zavattini. Cinematography: Anchise Brizzi. Production design: Ivo Battelli, Giulio Lombardozzi. Film editing: Niccolò Lazzari. Music: Alessandro Cicognini. 

Vittorio De Sica's neorealist classic Shoeshine is not quite as successful as his Bicycle Thieves (1948) in capturing the street life of Rome after the end of World War II, chiefly because its focus on the two boys, Pasquale (Franco Interlenghi) and Giuseppe (Rinaldo Smordoni), imposes limits. But they never become Dickensian waifs -- Dickens would never have crafted such an unsentimental ending. If Bicycle Thieves is ultimately the greater picture it's because De Sica learned from Shoeshine the importance of ambiance -- present largely in the prison setting for the earlier film. Still, it's one of the great films about childhood, with a searing vision that was unavailable to American filmmakers of the day.  

Queen of the Desert (Werner Herzog, 2015)

Cast: Nicole Kidman, James Franco, Damian Lewis, Robert Pattinson, Jay Abdo, Jenny Agutter, David Calder, Christopher Fulford, Nick Waring, Holly Earle, Mark Lewis Jones, Beth Goddard. Screenplay: Werner Herzog. Cinematography: Peter Zeitlinger. Production design: Ulrich Bergfelder. Film editing: Joe Bini. Music: Klaus Bedelt. 

Werner Herzog's Queen of the Desert is a tepid and conventional biopic from a director who isn't known for being either tepid or conventional. It's ostensibly the story of the pioneering explorer Gertrude Bell (Nicole Kidman), but it subsumes her discoveries and adventures in the Middle East in an account of her love life. A miscast James Franco plays British diplomat Henry Cadogan, who supposedly won her heart but was prevented from marrying her by Bell's parents. After his death, she fell in love with a British army officer, Richard Wylie (Damian Lewis), but he was married and died at Gallipoli in 1915. The film also hints at a flirtation with T.E. Lawrence (Robert Pattinson), who was probably either asexual or gay. So the film suggests that these failures in love caused Bell to transfer her affections to the desert and its people, embodied in the film by her guide, Fattuh (Jay Abdo). Falsifications abound, as they do in most biopics, and some of them are glaring: A scene set in 1914 is followed by a flashback that a title card says took place 20 years earlier, which would place it in 1902, but it contains references to Queen Victoria, who died in 1901. If the film is redeemed at all, it's by Peter Zeitlinger's cinematography and Kidman's performance. But Bell deserves much better treatment. 

Leaves of Grass (Tim Blake Nelson, 2009)

Edward Norton in Leaves of Grass

Cast: Edward Norton, Tim Blake Nelson, Keri Russell, Melanie Lynskey, Josh Pais, Susan Sarandon, Richard Dreyfuss, Pruitt Taylor Vince. Screenplay: Tim Blake Nelson. Cinematography: Roberto Schaefer. Production design: Max Biscoe. Film editing: Michelle Botticelli. Music: Jeff Danna.

With a fine cast headed by Edward Norton in a tour de force performance, Tim Blake Nelson's Leaves of Grass only needed a somewhat less ramshackle screenplay than the one Nelson wrote for it. The premise is sound: A successful academic returns to his backwater home town and is confronted with his messed-up family. Norton deftly creates the disparate twin brothers, philosophy professor Bill Kincaid and good-ol'-boy marijuana grower Brady Kincaid. Bill soon finds himself embroiled in Brady's illegal affairs. Nelson's screenplay does a lot of things right, using Bill's philosophical approach to life as a foil to Brady's hang-loose lifestyle, and making both characters somewhat plausible twins. It also does a lot of predictable things, like finding a romantic interest for Bill in a poetry-quoting local played nicely by Keri Russell. But he overcomplicates his story with secondary characters like the randy coed who snares Bill into a sexual harassment charge or the orthodontist who meets Bill on a plane and unwittingly precipitates the bloody outcome of the story. He also casts great actors like Susan Sarandon and Melanie Lynskey in roles that have little to do with the mainstream of the plot. Leaves of Grass uneasily straddles the line between screwball and black comedy, but even when it doesn't work, the cast makes it watchable.  

Reprise (Joachim Trier, 2006)

Anders Danielsen Lie and Espen Klouman Høiner in Reprise

Cast: Anders Danielsen Lie, Espen Klouman Høiner, Viktoria Winger, Odd-Magnus Williamson, Pål Stokka, Christian Rubeck, Henrik Elvestad, Henrik Mestad, Rebekka Karijord, Sigmund Sæverud. Screenplay: Jochim Trier, Eskil Vogt. Cinematography: Jakob Ihre. Production design: Roger Rosenberg. Film editing: Olivier Bugge Coutté. Music: Olla Fløttum, Knut Schreiner. 

Youth, as they say, is wasted on the young. To make the point, Joachim Trier focuses on two friends, aspiring writers, in their early 20s, and imagines the course their lives might have taken as well as showing the way it did. He uses a voiceover narrator (Eindrida Eidsvold) to set up the potential but also sometimes to elucidate the actual. The result is a sometimes confusing but ultimately touching portrait of Phillip (Anders Danielsen Lie) and Erik (Espen Klouman Høiner) as they try to manage burgeoning careers, love affairs, and friendships. Reprise was Trier's first feature, made with the keen awareness of a director in his 30s of the choices and the missteps we all encounter in that crucial period of our lives.

Psycho (Gus Van Sant, 1998)

Vince Vaughn in Psycho

Cast: Vince Vaughn, Anne Heche, Julianne Moore, Viggo Mortensen, William H. Macy, Robert Forster, Philip Baker Hall, Anne Haney, Chad Everett, Rance Howard, Rita Wilson, James Remar, James Le Gros. Screenplay: James Sefano, based on a novel by Robert Bloch. Cinematography: Christopher Doyle. Production design: Tom Foden. Film editing: Amy E. Duddleston. Music: Bernard Herrmann. 

Accepting the role of Norman Bates in Gus Van Sant's remake of Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho was an act that took chutzpah or hubris or something. There are few performances more definitive than Anthony Perkins in the role in the 1960 film. It's much easier to accept some of the actors who replace the originals: Viggo Mortensen is a far more capable actor than John Gavin, and he gives the role of Sam Loomis personality. Julianne Moore is tougher and feistier than Vera Miles as Lila Crane. And even Anne Heche is acceptable as Marion Crane, though lacking the touch of glamour -- and the shock of her early departure from the movie -- that made Janet Leigh iconic in the role. Which is just to say that Van Sant's version is an experiment that never justifies itself: Can a nearly shot-for-shot re-creation of a classic film succeed as its own movie? It didn't, of course, meeting critical scorn and audience indifference. The incidental departures from the Hitchcock version, the updatings to meet contemporary expectations are glaringly irrelevant: San is naked in the bedroom scene at the beginning; Norman masturbates when he looks at Marion through the peephole; we see the wounds inflicted by Mother and Marion's nude buttocks in the shower scene. Even the rescoring of Bernard Herrmann's music by Danny Elfman feels less effective in the new context. As so often with remakes, we come to see what made the original so brilliant. 

The Fan (Otto Preminger, 1949)

George Sanders, Jeanne Crain, and Richard Greene in The Fan

Cast: Jeanne Crain, George Sanders, Madeleine Carroll, Richard Greene, Martita Hunt, John Sutton, Hugh Dempster, Richard Ney, Virginia McDowall. Screenplay: Ross Evans, Dorothy Parker, Walter Reisch, based on a play by Oscar Wilde. Cinematography: Joseph LaShelle. Art direction: Leland Fuller, Lyle R. Wheeler. Film editing: Louis R. Loeffler. Music: Daniele Amfitheatrof. 

Uncharacteristically lackluster direction by Otto Preminger mars The Fan, an adaptation of Oscar Wilde's play Lady Windermere's Fan. Like so many movies from stage plays, it hashes things up to meet the demands of motion pictures for action and change of scenery, adding a "frame story" that takes place in London after the end of World War II. An elderly Mrs. Erlynne (Madeleine Carroll) discovers the titular fan at an auction of things retrieved from the rubble left by the bombing of the city and seeks out Lord Darlington (George Sanders) to prove her rightful ownership. Flash back to the action of the play. Wilde's aphorisms are chopped up and scattered in the dialogue of the film, as it becomes less a battle of wits and more a domestic drama. Sanders, Carroll, and Martita Hunt retain some of the play's essence in their performances, but Jeanne Crain and Richard Greene are pallid versions of the Windermeres. 

The Hit (Stephen Frears, 1984)

Terence Stamp, John Hurt, and Tim Roth in The Hit

Cast: Terence Stamp, John Hurt, Tim Roth, Laura del Sol, Bill Hunter, Fernando Rey, Lennie Peters, Willoughby Gray, Jim Broadbent. Screenplay: Peter Prince. Cinematography: Mike Molloy. Production design: Andrew Sanders. Film editing: Mick Audsley. Music: Paco de Lucia. 

The acting trio of Terence Stamp, John Hurt, and Tim Roth make The Hit watchable even though they're playing characters with manifest inconsistencies in a story riddled with plot holes. Stamp plays Willie, who ratted on his fellow mobsters to avoid prison and has spent ten years in exile in Spain. Then  two gangsters, the icy, taciturn Braddock (Hurt) and his itchy, naive partner Myron (Roth), show up to bring him to mob justice. What follows is a peregrination through northern Spain, during which Braddock kills another mobster and abducts his mistress (Laura del Sol). As a road movie, it's not bad, but as a gangster film it falls short, never quite finding a consistent tone, wavering between film noir and black comedy. 

Limonov: The Ballad (Kirill Serebrennikov, 2024)

Ben Whishaw in Limonov: The Ballad

Cast: Ben Whishaw, Viktoria Miroshnichenko, Tomas Aran, Corado Invernizzi, Evgeniy Mironov, Andrey Burkovskiy, Masha Mashkova, Odin Lund Biron, Vladim Stepanov, Vladislav Tsenev, Sandrine Bonnaire. Screenplay: Pawel Pawlikowski, Ben Hopkins, Kirill Serebrennikov. Cinematography: Roman Vasyanov. Production design: Lyubov Korolkova, Vladslav Ogay. Film editing: Yuriy Karik. Music: Massimo Pupillo. 

I admit that I had never heard of Eduard Limonov before venturing into Kirill Serebrennikov's biopic, and even now I'm not sure why I should have. Poet, dissident, and madman, he stirred things up in the Soviet Union, New York, France, and again in the Russia that arose from the fall of the Soviet Union. Limonov: The Ballad puts him in the larger context of the madness of New York City in the 1970s and Russia in the 1990s, and to some extent makes him a representative figure for those troubled places and times. Despite an all-stops-out performance by Ben Whishaw and a vivid re-creation of those eras, the film lacks coherence. But maybe that's the point: Limonov himself lacked coherence.   

Bugonia (Yorgos Lanthimos, 2025)

Emma Stone in Bugonia

Cast: Emma Stone, Jesse Plemons, Aidan Delbis, Stavros Halkias, Alicia Silverstone. Screenplay: Will Tracy, based on a film by Jang Joon-hwan. Cinematography: Robbie Ryan. Production design: James Price. Film editing: Yorgos Mavropsaridis. Music: Jerskin Fendrix. 

Yorgos Lanthimos's Bugonia feels less inventively off-beat than some of his other films, like the macabre fable Dogtooth (2009), the dystopian fantasy The Labster (2015), or the sendup of the costume drama The Favourite (2018). That may be because it's a remake of the South Korean film Save the Green Planet! (2003), whose director, Jang Joon-hwan, was originally supposed to make it, so the material didn't originate in Lanthimos's imagination. Which is not to say it isn't full of his delirious inventiveness, especially since he's working with his favorite actress, Emma Stone, who seems to share his predilection for the absurd (viz. her work with Nathan Fielder and Benny Safdie on the 1923 series The Curse). Stone plays Michelle Fuller, a pharmaceuticals CEO who is kidnapped by Teddy Gatz (Jesse Plemons), who is convinced that she's an alien and that the Andromedan mother ship is about to return to Earth for her. Imprisoned in his basement, with only Teddy's timorous cousin, Don (Aidan Delbis), to guard her, Michelle proves resourceful and resistant. But is Teddy really deluded in his beliefs about her? What suspense the film generates comes from that question. Stone and Plemmons, the former indomitable and the latter sometimes explosively brutal, are at peak form. The only reservations I have lie in the rather cobbled-together ending of the film, which seems to me an apocalypse that the movie neither earns nor justifies.  

Girl With Hyacinths (Hasse Ekman, 1950)

Ulf Palme and Anders Ek in Girl With Hyacinths

Cast: Eva Henning, Ulf Palme, Birgit Tengroth, Anders Ek, Gösta Cederlund, Karl-Arne Holmsten, Keve Hjelm, Marianne Löfgren, Björn Berglund, Anne-Marie Brunius. Screenplay: Hasse Ekman. Cinematography: Göran Strindberg. Production design: Bibi Lindström. Film editing: Lennart Wellèn. Music: Erland von Koch. 

A young woman kills herself, leaving a letter for her neighbors across the hall that names them as her heirs, even though they were only passing acquaintances. That's the setup for Hasse Ekman's Girl With Hyacinths. The neighbors, writer Anders Wikner (Ulf Palme) and his wife, Britt (Birgit Tengroth), are left to solve the mystery of why Dagmar Brink (Eva Henning) chose to take her life. Ingmar Bergman named Girl With Hyacinths as one of the greatest Swedish films, and while it never achieves the distinction of the best of Bergman's own films, it's an absorbing precursor to them. The secrets of Dagmar Brink's life are uncovered by the Wikners in a series of flashbacks, as they encounter a bristly banker (Gösta Cederlund), an alcoholic painter (Anders Ek), a giddy actress (Marianne Löfgren), Dagmar's ex-husband (Keve Hjelm), and a womanizing popular singer (Karl-Arne Holmsten). Although Anders Wikner does most of the sleuthing, it's his clever and more sympathetic wife who really understands what led to Dagmar's death, bringing to mind the collaboration of Nick and Nora Charles in The Thin Man (W.S. Van Dyke, 1934). The film also touches on themes that were taboo in the Hollywood of 1950. Hasse Ekman's skillful direction is aided by Göran Strindberg's cinematography. 

Films I've Seen But Not Reviewed

Prison on Fire (Ringo Lam, 1987)

Prison on Fire II (Ringo Lam, 1991)

One Battle After Another (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2025)

Wake Up Dead Man (Rian Johnson, 2025

Oslo, August 31st (Joachim Trier, 2011)

Train Dreams (Clint Bentley, 2025)

Maps to the Stars (David Cronenberg, 2014)

I Am Not a Witch (Rungano Nyoni, 2017)

West Indies: The Fugitive Slaves of Liberty (Med Hondo, 1979)

You Can Count on Me (Kenneth Lonergan, 2000)

Framed (Richard Wallace, 1947)

The Ice Storm (Ang Lee, 1997)

Chloe (Atom Egoyan, 2009)

Maniac (William Lustig, 1980)

The Bellboy (Jerry Lewis, 1960)(

My Blueberry Nights (Wong Kar-wai, 2007)

Eve's Bayou (Kasi Lemmons, 1997)

The Ballad of Suzanne Césaire (Madeleine Hunt-Ehrlich, 2024)

Nouvelle Vague (Richard Linklater, 2025)

Pariah (Dee Rees, 2011)

The Grandmaster (Wong Kar-Wai, 2013)

Zhang Ziyi in The Grandmaster

Cast: Tony Leung Chiu-Wai, Zhang Ziyi, Zhang Jin, Song Hye-ko, Yuen Woo-ping, Wang Qingxiang, Zhao Benshan, Shang Tielong, Chin Shih-chieh, Wang Jue, Chang Chen. Screenplay: Wong Kar-Wai, Zou Jingzhi, Xu Haofeng. Cinematography: Philippe Le Sourd. Production design: William Chang, Alfred Yau. Film editing: William Chang, Benjamin Courties, Poon Hung Yiu. Music: Stefano Lentini, Nathaniel Méchaly, Shigeru Umebayashi. 

A luminous Zhang Ziyi haunts every frame in which she appears in Wong Kar-Wai's The Grandmaster, which somewhat distorts the story, which is based on the life of Ip Man (Tony Leung Chiu-Wai), the kung fu grandmaster best known perhaps in the West as the teacher of Bruce Lee. But anyone expecting the flash and dazzle of Lee's movies will be confused by Wong's dreamlike romanticism, merging scenes of action into a tale of doomed love against a backdrop of the history of 20th-century China. Wong struggles to bring coherence to a number of narrative threads, many of which involve the philosophical underpinnings of the various styles of martial art, but unless you're a devotee of the practice, it's best to let the lush filming and scoring carry you along. 

Four Rooms (Allison Anders, Alexandre Rockwell, Robert Rodriguez, Quentin Tarantino, 1995)

Jennifer Beals and Tim Roth in Four Rooms

Cast: Tim Roth, Sammi Davis, Amanda de Cadenet, Valeria Golino, Madonna, Ione Skye, Lili Taylor, Alicia Witt, David Proval, Jennifer Beals, Antonio Banderas, Tamlin Tomita, Lana McKissack, Danny Verduzco, Kathy Griffin, Marisa Tomei, Quentin Tarntino, Paul Calderón, Bruce Willis. Screenplay: Allison Anders, Alexandre Rockwell, Robert Rodriguez, Quentin Tarantino. Cinematography: Rodrigo García, Guillermo Navarro, Phil Parmet, Andrzej Sekula. Production design: Gary Frutkoff. Film editing: Margaret Goodspeed, Elena Maganini, Robert Rodriguez, Sally Menke. Music: Combustible Edison.

Four directors on their way up concocted Four Rooms, a knockabout anthology comedy set in a rundown LA hotel. The four segments are linked by the hotel bellhop, Ted, played by a twitchy Tim Roth in a performance that's supposed to be reminiscent of Jerry Lewis, but for once makes the viewer long for the real Jerry Lewis. Roth mugs and flinches and mutters his lines so much that you might be grateful for closed captions except that the lines aren't particularly funny. A few actors survive this mess: Jennifer Beals keeps her head in the two segments in which she appears, and Antonio Banderas does over-the-top machismo well, but most of them succumb to the general anarchy. Four Rooms was savaged by critics, but you'll find people who think it's one of the funniest films ever made. 

No Fear, No Die (Claire Denis, 1990)

Alex Descas and Isaach de Bankolé in No Fear, No Die

Cast: Isaach de Bankolé, Alex Descas, Jean-Claude Brialy, Solveig Dommartin, Christopher Buchholz, Christa Lang, Gilbert Felmar, Daniel Bellus, François Oloa Biloa, Pipo Saguera, Alain Banicles. Screenplay: Claire Denis, Jean-Pol Fargeau. Cinematography: Pascal Marti. Production design: Jean-Jacques Caziot. Film editing: Dominique Auvray. Music: Abdullah Ibrahim. 

Claire Denis's No Fear, No Die is a story about exiles trying to make it in the land that colonized their homelands: Dah (Isaach de Bankolé) is from Benin and Jocelyn (Alex Descas) is from the West Indies. They have come to France to make a fortune in cockfighting. Dah is the businessman and Jocelyn the trainer. Jocelyn provides the contact, Pierre (Jean-Claude Brialy), whom he knew when he was a boy. Eventually, tensions arise between Jocelyn and Pierre, especially after Pierre notices that Jocelyn finds his wife, Toni (Solveig Dommartin), attractive and even names one of the fighting cocks after her. Pierre suggests to Jocelyn that he used to have sex with the man's mother. The explosive human situation is heightened by the sequences depicting cockfights. Denis directs with her usual no-nonsense approach to the brutal actuality that lies hidden beneath the veneer of civilization. 

The Sealed Soil (Marva Nabili, 1977)

Flora Shabaviz in The Sealed Soil

Cast: Flora Shabaviz. Screenplay: Marva Nabili. Cinematography: Barbod Taheri. Music: Hooreh. 

With its static camera, long takes, and lack of a conventional plot, Marva Nabili's The Sealed Soil has earned comparisons to Chantal Akerman's Jeanne Dielman (1975). It has the same unrelenting focus on a central figure, in this case Rooy-Bekhir (Flora Shabaviz), an 18-year-old woman in an Iranian village, who resists pressures from her family and her society to enter an arranged marriage. She is told at one point that her mother was engaged to be married at the age of 7. Eventually, the pressure to conform breaks her down. Much of the film focuses on her daily life in a place that seems suspended in time -- it's a film in which ambience rather than incident dominates. Made on the sly, with Shabaviz the only professional actor in its cast, the film was smuggled out of Iran (where it has never been exhibited) and edited back at the City University of New York, where Nabili was a film student. For those willing to endure its lack of narrative urgency, The Sealed Soil has a quiet power.  

Pink Narcissus (James Bidgood, 1971)

Bobby Kendall in Pink Narcissus

Cast: Bobby Kendall, Don Brooks, Charles Ludlam. Screenplay: James Bidgood. Cinematography: James Bidgood. Art direction: James Bidgood. Film editing: Martin Jay Sadoff. Music: Gary Goch, Martin Jay Sadoff. 

James Bidgood's shoestring fantasy is a reminder of the fine line between the erotic and the comic. Filmed in his apartment with a cast of friends, it's a lush evocation of the daydreams of a man (Bobby Kendall) waiting for the client for his sexual favors, in which the man, credited as Pan, imagines himself in various guises: a bullfighter, a harem boy, a Roman slave, and so on. In short, the familiar setups for gay porn. Though there is plenty of male nudity and at least one sexually explicit moment, Pink Narcissus never quite crosses over into pornography -- at least in the eye of this beholder. The score is made up of snippets of Mussorgsky, Prokofiev, and a Haydn horn concerto, designed to set up a languorous mood. There's no plot, but none is needed. The usual word for this sort of film is camp, and the presence of Charles Ludlam in a variety of roles reinforces that adjective. Certainly it's all a little too much, and the blazes of color, soft-focus photography, and busy editing are sometimes eye-straining, but it's still an intriguing glimpse into one man's imagination.   

Weapons (Zach Cregger, 2025)

Cast: Julia Garner, Josh Brolin, Amy Madigan, Benedict Wong, Cary Christopher, Alden Ehrenreich, Austin Abrams, Whitmer Thomas, Callie Schuttera, Scarlett Sher (voice). Screenplay: Zach Cregger. Cinematography: Larkin Seiple. Production design: Tom Hammock. Film editing: Joe Murphy. Music: Zach Cregger, Hays Holladay, Ryan Holladay.

In Weapons, Zach Cregger takes a gut-level nightmare, the abduction of children, and turns it into a horror movie centered on social scapegoating. When all of the children except for one in the third-grade class taught by Justine Gandy (Julia Garner) disappear one night, she becomes the target of suspicion. The details of their disappearance is uncanny: Seventeen children all left their homes at the same time of night and completely vanished, with only a few videos made by home surveillance cameras to record their departure. The police are baffled even after grilling Justine and the boy (Cary Christopher) who was left behind. Justine is harassed: The word WITCH is painted on her car, and she begins to drink heavily. One of her chief accusers is Archer Graff (Josh Brolin), whose son Matthew was one of the disappeared. Cregger tells the story in overlapping segments, each from a different point of view, a device that’s a little too repetitive but eventually pays off, revealing a villain with supernatural powers – ordinarily a cop-out device in a mystery story, but made effective by a wonderfully creepy performance by Amy Madigan. There are some plot holes that irritate those who look too closely, but Weapons is the kind of film you watch without expecting actuality to intrude.