There’s a moment halfway through this movie where Superman gets what can only be described as Human Centipede’d in the lungs while some villain tries to choke out the hope of humanity through body horror. 

And that’s when I realized: James Gunn has no idea what movie he’s making.

This Superman has laser eyes, abs sculpted by the gods, and a smile that probably restored someone’s credit score. But it’s also a film that shifts between Looney Tunes, Zack Snyder fan fiction, and an episode of The Boys — without ever committing to any of them.

Let’s get this out of the Fortress of Solitude:
Nobody will ever touch Christopher Reeve. Not in charm, not in truth, not in anything.

 Jim Caviezel (yes, spelling is optional) came close once — had the look, the presence — but was absolutely shafted by a script that had all the emotional weight of a soggy toaster.

And now? We get David Corenswet. He’s good. Like, “don’t ruin this for him” good. He has the makings of a true Superman if they stop dunking him into every tonal blender Warner Bros. has in the basement. 

Give this man an actual direction and a script that doesn’t feel like it was ghostwritten by ChatGPT and trauma.

Rachel Brosnahan’s Lois Lane?
 Sharp. Snappy. Not annoying. Finally. She delivers lines like she’s challenging Superman and your podcast at the same time.

But then we get to the Justice League 2.0™️

Whoever cast this off-brand Avengers pack needs to be sent back to casting school. I’d have taken Ryan Reynolds in full Green Lantern suit doing a public apology tour if it meant we didn’t have to sit through whatever these miscast misfires were supposed to be.
 (Yes, I’m still mad about the human lung-worm thing. Still processing.)

Also: Can we ban Lex Luthor for the next decade?

How is it that Superman has villains like Brainiac, Parasite, Mongul, Bizarro, Lobo, and frickin’ Mr. Mxyzptlk — and we’re still stuck with Bald Bezos in a suit monologuing about power? The world is literally on fire and we’re still sending in Lex like he’s the only bad guy left in the toy chest.

Look — the visuals are stunning. The effects hit harder than a punch from Zod on a caffeine binge. The musical callbacks slap. And I wanted this to be the Superman we deserve. 

Because the world? It needs him right now. We need hope. We need strength. We need truth.

We don’t need a slow-motion execution by revolver in a PG-13 superhero movie.

Give Corenswet a second shot. Give Superman a soul again. And for the love of all things kryptonian, don’t kill him again just to sell tickets.

Well, we’ve finally reached the point in the Jurassic franchise where the dinosaurs are just… background noise. Literal zombie dinosaur hybrids with gout (or some kind of glandular problem that made their necks look like turkey leftovers). 

If that sentence made you go “huh?” — 
congratulations, you're already more engaged than I was during the movie.

Let’s get this out of the way: Jonathan Bailey is the best part of this fossilized mess. He brings charm, heart, and a pair of glasses that somehow have more character development than half the cast. Honestly, they should’ve let the glasses direct the movie. Maybe then we wouldn’t have ended up with a plot that feels like it was written by a team of AI bots trained exclusively on rejected Jurassic Park fan fiction.

The film is bloated — like, gas-station-sushi-at-midnight bloated.

 It tries to juggle six different storylines and drops every single one like a raptor trying to use chopsticks. There’s no coherent connection to any of the previous films, except for the parts it shamelessly copies from the original. Raptors in the kitchen? Been there. Flares to distract the T-Rex? Seen it. Except now it’s like watching someone do a cosplay of your childhood, but they forgot the point and showed up drunk.

And where the hell is Chris Pratt?

 You built this entire new trilogy around him just to toss him aside like a piece of amber-less mosquito resin? His absence was loud. The kind of loud that echoes through the empty plot holes they forgot to fill with things like… I don’t know… purpose?

This movie is like ordering a T-bone steak and getting tofu shaped like a velociraptor. 

Sure, it’s technically “dinosaur adjacent,” but you leave wondering why you even sat down in the first place. And no — cramming in half-hearted references and mutated dinos from a Resident Evil mod doesn’t count as world-building.

Visually, yeah — the effects are solid. Dinosaurs look cool. But they’re the side dish now. The main course is a weird stew of corporate sabotage, family trauma, global eco-terrorism, and what might be a commentary on social media — I think. Honestly, I couldn’t tell. 

My brain went extinct halfway through act two.

Final verdict?
Rebirth? More like regurgitation. If this is where the franchise is headed, maybe it's time we let the dinosaurs go extinct again — but for real this time.

🦕 2.5 stars for Jonathan Bailey, his glasses, and the 12 seconds I actually felt something.

The rest? Fossil fuel.

Last night, I found myself seated at a screening of You’re Cordially Invited, and let me tell you—it’s not your average stroll down the wedding aisle. Directed by Nicholas Stoller (Forgetting Sarah Marshall) and starring comedy powerhouses like Will Ferrell, Reese Witherspoon, Geraldine Viswanathan, Meredith Hagner, and Jack McBrayer, this Amazon Prime release is set to premiere on January 30th. The premise? Two weddings accidentally booked at the same venue lead to a chaotic, comedy-filled tug-of-war. Sounds promising, right? Well, let’s unpack the wedding favors.

A Tale of Two Weddings (and a Lot of F-Bombs)

Let’s start with the plot. It’s the kind of premise that’s been recycled more times than a wedding DJ playing “YMCA.” Two couples battle for their dream wedding at an idyllic island venue, leading to hijinks, misunderstandings, and the occasional heartfelt moment. 

But if you’re hoping for fresh takes on wedding comedy, you may need to adjust your expectations. This is sitcom material stretched into a feature-length movie.

The script, while self-aware at times, tries to ride the wave of trendy humor but often trips over its own hashtags. It’s packed with references and phrases that already feel dated, like that one uncle trying to use TikTok lingo at Thanksgiving. The saving grace? Will Ferrell’s character, the older dad, hilariously struggling to decode the “hip” phrases being tossed around him. He’s confused, we’re confused, and somehow it works—for a while.

Star-Studded Chaos

The cast is undeniably talented, and they make the most of the material given. Reese Witherspoon brings her signature charm, even if the role doesn’t demand much from her. Geraldine Viswanathan continues to shine as a rising star, delivering one of the film’s few genuinely heartfelt performances.

Jack McBrayer is delightfully weird as the island’s wedding planner, 
a role that feels like it was written for him.

But the real MVP here is Meredith Hagner, who steals every scene she’s in with her over-the-top bridezilla antics. She’s the comedic engine of the movie, balancing absurdity with just enough vulnerability to make her character relatable—or at least tolerable. Meanwhile, Ferrell’s dad jokes and bewildered expressions provide consistent laughs, even when the script doesn’t.

Not All Vows Are Created Equal

While the film leans heavily on its cast to carry the weight, the direction and pacing leave something to be desired. Some jokes land like a perfectly tossed bouquet; others crash like the drunk uncle at the reception. The second act drags, bogged down by repetitive gags and a lack of narrative momentum. 

By the time the film reaches its predictable but satisfying conclusion, 
you might find yourself checking your watch—
or scrolling through your phone’s Pinterest board for wedding inspiration.

Will Ferrell reportedly improvised many of his lines, which explains the genuine reactions from his co-stars in certain scenes. Geraldine Viswanathan learned to hula dance specifically for this role, and Jack McBrayer’s character was inspired by a real-life eccentric wedding planner the director once encountered. These little details add a touch of authenticity to the otherwise chaotic proceedings.

Final Thoughts: Say “I Do” to a Good Time

You’re Cordially Invited doesn’t reinvent the wedding comedy genre, but it doesn’t have to. It’s a light, silly romp with enough charm to keep you entertained, even if it occasionally stumbles down the aisle. If you’re a fan of Ferrell or Witherspoon, or you just need a feel-good flick to brighten your day, this one’s worth RSVPing to. Just don’t expect it to be the wedding of the century.

Howling at Perfection:
Why Wolfman Is the Best Monster Movie Since the ‘90s

Universal Studios has been sitting on a goldmine of iconic movie monsters—Dracula, Frankenstein, The Invisible Man, and of course, the Wolfman. For years, they’ve tried to resurrect their monster universe with mixed results (cough The Mummy cough), but with Leigh Whannell’s Wolfman, they may have finally struck gold—or in this case, fur-covered silver.

                                                        A Visual Feast With a Fresh Howl

Right from the opening frame, Wolfman sets the tone with visuals that are nothing short of breathtaking. Leigh Whannell, the mastermind behind The Invisible Man reboot, proves once again he knows how to scare you with both what you see and what you don’t. The Pacific Northwest serves as a haunting backdrop, its misty woods and towering pines almost as much a character as the titular beast. Every shot drips with atmosphere, from the claustrophobic dark hallways to the eerily serene mountain landscapes.

Whannell’s take on the werewolf transformation scene deserves its own Oscar category. Christopher Abbott’s portrayal of Blake Lovell, the unlucky protagonist, is masterful as he devolves bit by agonizing bit. First, a feverish rash spreads across his skin; then his jaw grotesquely contorts, teeth elongating into fangs. By the time he fully transforms, he’s a haunting hybrid of Bigfoot and something out of your worst nightmares. 

Whannell wisely avoids CGI overload, opting instead for practical effects 
that give the Wolfman a raw, tactile horror we haven’t seen in years.

More Than Just Blood and Guts

If you’re expecting a gore-fest, Wolfman keeps you on your toes. The violence, while visceral, is used sparingly, making every drop of blood feel earned. The scares? Let’s just say Whannell knows exactly when to yank the rug out from under you. Just when you think you’re safe, BAM—a perfectly executed jump scare that’ll have you gripping your popcorn bucket for dear life. The sound design is equally spectacular. The guttural growls, the crunch of leaves underfoot, and the sharp, snapping twigs all work in unison to crank up the tension. Watching this in a theater with a subpar sound system would be a crime against horror.

A Wolf in Feminist Clothing?

The story itself is where things get interesting—and occasionally messy. Whannell and co-writer Corbett Tuck clearly had a lot to say about masculinity, gender roles, and generational trauma. Blake is a stay-at-home dad raising his daughter Ginger (a delightful Matilda Firth), while his wife Charlotte (Julia Garner) brings home the bacon as an investigative journalist. Their dynamic is a modern twist on traditional family roles, but it’s complicated by Blake’s transformation. Is it a curse? A disease? Or just the ultimate metaphor for repressed toxic masculinity? Whannell leaves it up to you to decide, but not without laying some heavy-handed dialogue along the way.

Garner shines as Charlotte, evolving from a cold, overworked spouse to a fearless heroine. Her chemistry with Abbott grounds the film in emotional reality, even when the story veers into the fantastical. Matilda Firth also deserves a shoutout for her performance as Ginger, whose innocence and bravery give the film its emotional core.

A Few Howls of Criticism

Not everything in Wolfman is flawless. Some of the gender commentary feels muddled, as if the filmmakers weren’t quite sure whose side they were on. And while the movie is visually stunning, it occasionally sacrifices narrative tension for style. The final act, while satisfying, leans a bit too hard on predictable tropes. But honestly, when the rest of the film is this good, it’s easy to forgive a few missteps.

Fun Fact Break: Christopher Abbott spent months in intense physical training for the role, and his dedication shows in every sinewy, agonized transformation scene. Whannell also brought in expert prosthetics teams who previously worked on The Shape of Water to design the Wolfman’s hauntingly unique look.

The Verdict: A Hair-Raising Triumph

Leigh Whannell’s Wolfman isn’t just a great monster movie—it’s a great movie, period. With jaw-dropping visuals, a unique twist on werewolf lore, and a story that’s as thought-provoking as it is terrifying, this film is a much-needed shot in the arm for Universal’s monster universe.
So grab your silver bullets, your popcorn, and your closest horror-loving friends. Wolfman is a howling good time that will leave you looking over your shoulder the next time you take a stroll in the woods.

What happens when public domain characters are ripped from their beloved childhood tales and shoved into low-grade horror cash grabs? 

You get Scott Jeffrey’s Peter Pan’s Neverland Nightmare, a movie that takes every ounce of whimsy and wonder and replaces it with gore, depravity, and uninspired shock value. Let’s be honest: Jeffrey isn’t reinventing the wheel here—he’s just slapping some blood on it and hoping it’ll roll.

The Twisted Childhood Universe: More of the Same

Following the underwhelming Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey, Peter Pan’s Neverland Nightmare trudges forward with the same tired formula. It’s the latest installment in the so-called Twisted Childhood Universe, where public domain characters are twisted beyond recognition in the name of “horror.” The premise is simple: Peter Pan (Martin Porlock) is now a deranged, disfigured child-snatcher who "rescues" kids by kidnapping and murdering them. Tinker Bell (Kit Green) has swapped her pixie dust for heroin, and Wendy is a one-note protagonist tasked with saving her brother Michael from Peter’s clutches.

While the concept sounds edgy on paper,
it’s ultimately just a rehash of Jeffrey’s previous low-effort outings. 

It’s hard to feel anything but fatigue when every character arc and plot point is recycled from better (or at least more original) horror films.

A Plot Full of Holes and Cheap Tricks

The film opens with a flashback showing Peter Pan as a creepy circus mime—because why not? After terrorizing a young boy and his mother, Peter grows into a middle-aged psychopath who abducts children and drags them to his decrepit hideout. Wendy Darling (Megan Placito) takes on the predictable role of the desperate sibling, setting off to rescue her brother Michael (Peter DeSouza-Feighoney) after he’s kidnapped. What follows is a series of uninspired “horror” set pieces that rely more on shock value than genuine scares.

There are moments that attempt to be disturbing, like Peter’s traumatic backstory, which includes mutilation at the hands of his own mother. But instead of adding depth, these details feel gratuitous and manipulative, designed purely to provoke rather than enrich the narrative. The film’s climax, where Wendy tries to save Michael, is a predictable gore-fest that lacks any emotional weight.

Performances Can’t Save the Script

To their credit, the actors try to elevate the material, but there’s only so much they can do with such a flimsy script. Peter DeSouza-Feighoney’s performance as Michael is one of the few bright spots, bringing a level of vulnerability and fear that feels genuine. Unfortunately, Megan Placito’s Wendy is reduced to a bland, one-dimensional character, while Martin Porlock’s Peter Pan is more laughable than menacing. 

And then there’s Tinker Bell, portrayed as a strung-out junkie 
in what can only be described as a misguided attempt at “edginess.”

The production design and cinematography are serviceable, with Peter’s lair offering a suitably grim backdrop. However, it’s all surface-level. The film leans heavily on gore and grotesque imagery, but without any meaningful context, it feels empty. Bridget Milesi’s production design tries to evoke dread, but it’s hard to care when the story is so thin and the characters so underdeveloped. Even the “Neverland” concept is a throwaway—just another excuse for more blood and guts.

Trigger Warnings Aren’t Enough

This movie isn’t just dark; it’s unnecessarily cruel. The graphic depictions of child endangerment and body horror are not for the faint of heart, but instead of being impactful, they feel exploitative. Jeffrey seems to equate shock value with quality, forgetting that effective horror requires more than just a high body count and gallons of fake blood.

Misplaced Priorities

Want to know the most "fun" fact about this movie? The budget was so tight that some of the set pieces were reportedly scavenged from junkyards. While that might sound like a testament to resourcefulness, it’s just another sign of how little effort was put into crafting something worthwhile. Instead of focusing on storytelling or character development, Jeffrey continues to churn out movies that rely on cheap gimmicks and public domain loopholes.

Final Thoughts: Enough Is Enough

Peter Pan’s Neverland Nightmare is yet another soulless cash grab in a series that’s overstayed its welcome. It’s a joyless, mean-spirited slog that mistakes depravity for depth and gore for greatness. While the concept of reimagining childhood tales as horror stories had potential, Jeffrey has proven time and again that he’s more interested in quantity than quality.

If you’re a die-hard fan of low-budget schlock and have 90 minutes to kill, this might be your thing. For everyone else, skip this and revisit your childhood memories before they’re completely ruined by the Twisted Childhood Universe. Here’s hoping this franchise finds its final resting place sooner rather than later.

Let’s get the official synopsis out of the way: Unstoppable tells the inspiring true story of Anthony Robles (Jharrel Jerome), who was born with one leg but refused to let that define him. With the unwavering support of his devoted mother, Judy (Jennifer Lopez), and the guidance of his coaches, Anthony defied the odds, pushing through relentless adversity to earn a spot on the Arizona State Wrestling team—and ultimately claim a National Gold Medal.
Sounds like the kind of story that could get a standing ovation in the theater, right? Except, in a baffling twist of fate, Amazon decided to skip a full theatrical run and drop it on Prime Video on January 16th. Their loss.

                                                   First Impressions: Wow, Just Wow

Walking into the screening, courtesy of the good folks at Movies More Fun, I did my usual routine: snag some free popcorn (thanks, guys!), ignore the critic row, and settle in with no prior knowledge of the film. Why? Because I like to experience movies the way most viewers will—fresh, untainted by trailers or buzz.

Yes, I know, “wow” isn’t the most poetic reaction,
but it’s the only word that truly captures the emotional journey this movie delivers. 

The story of Anthony Robles—born with one leg, enduring relentless bullying, abuse, and humiliation—is one of triumph over unimaginable odds. This isn’t some over-dramatized Hollywood fluff. This is real life, raw and unfiltered.

The True Power of the Story

Like most films claiming to be “based on a true story,” I went in expecting at least 70% of the plot to be fictionalized for dramatic effect. You know, boardroom execs throwing in unnecessary subplots about long-lost relatives or a pet hamster for emotional appeal. But after the credits rolled, and I sat through a post-screening Q&A with Jennifer Lopez, Don Cheadle, and others here in town, I did my homework.

Turns out, the story is 100% true. 

No fabricated drama, no exaggerated plotlines—just the unvarnished, awe-inspiring journey of a man who turned adversity into triumph. By the time the Q&A ended, I was floored—and not just because my popcorn had run out.

Performances That Hit the Mat and Beyond

Let’s talk about the cast. Jharrel Jerome trained for nearly a year—five days a week—with Anthony Robles himself as his trainer to embody the wrestler’s grit and determination. Jennifer Lopez went all in, spending endless hours with Judy Robles to absorb her strength, warmth, and unyielding love. Every actor and actress brought their A-game, delivering performances that felt authentic and deeply personal.

Okay, I’ll admit, the Arizona-themed wardrobe for literally every character felt a bit much. At one point, I half-expected the background actors to break into a “Visit Scottsdale!” jingle. But that minor nitpick aside, the production’s dedication to authenticity shines through.

Arizona’s Starring Role

For my fellow Arizonans, this film is a love letter to the Grand Canyon State as most of it was shot right here. You’ll spot familiar locations in Mesa, Tempe, ASU, and even Mesa Gateway Airport. The filmmakers stayed true to Anthony’s roots, making this not just a story about overcoming adversity but also a celebration of the places that shaped him.

A Few Fun Facts to Drop at Parties

• Jharrel Jerome’s Transformation: Jerome’s dedication to his role wasn’t just method acting—it was a full-blown athletic metamorphosis, with Robles personally coaching him to wrestle like a champ.
• Jennifer Lopez’s Commitment: Lopez’s portrayal of Judy Robles was the result of months of “girl time” with the real Judy, including lunches, phone calls, and heartfelt conversations.
• Behind-the-Scenes Nostalgia: Many of the wrestling scenes were shot in the very gyms and stadiums where Anthony’s real-life matches took place.

Final Thoughts: A Must-Watch Masterpiece

In an era of overblown CGI spectacles and recycled plots, Unstoppable stands out as a film with heart, soul, and a message that will leave you misty-eyed and cheering. It’s a shame Amazon didn’t give it the theatrical run it deserves, but that just means you can stream it from the comfort of your couch starting January 16th.

Trust me—grab some tissues, clear your schedule, and prepare to be inspired. This is one movie you’ll carry with you long after the credits roll.

The film will be free on Prime January 16th and I will be watching it again

Amazon Prime’s latest series On Call hits your screens on January 9, promising to take you on a ride-along with Long Beach’s finest… or at least, Long Beach’s most filmed. Created by Tim Walsh and Elliot Wolf (yes, that Wolf family), this show tries to tackle procedural drama with a gritty, bodycam twist. 

But does it deliver? Let’s just say, this call may have gone straight to voicemail.

The synopsis sounds like a slam dunk: veteran training officer Traci Harmon (Troian Bellisario) takes rookie Alex Diaz (Brandon Larracuente) under her wing as they navigate emergency calls and the emotional fallout of losing a fellow officer. 

Sounds gripping, right? 
Well, you’d be wrong.

Instead, On Call feels like it’s running on a flat tire from the get-go. Despite the show’s attempt to be gritty and innovative, it lands somewhere between nausea-inducing camera work and dialogue so wooden it could qualify as furniture.

The cast includes Troian Bellisario (Pretty Little Liars), Brandon Larracuente (13 Reasons Why), Lori Loughlin (yes, Aunt Becky from Full House), and Eriq La Salle (ER legend). Lori Loughlin’s presence is the most notable—because nothing screams “cop drama” like the actress best known for wholesome sitcom parenting and a college admissions scandal.

While Bellisario and Larracuente give it their best shot, the acting spectrum here swings wildly from “not bad” to “is this community theater?” 

Even Eriq La Salle can’t elevate this script, 
though you’ll appreciate his efforts to chew through the scenery.

If there’s one thing On Call does differently, it’s the cinematography. And by differently, I mean it feels like a film school project gone rogue. Every scene is shot using body cameras, cell phones, or what can only be described as “someone forgot to bring the tripod.” 

While this style works in video games (think Call of Duty) or Jason Statham action flicks, it’s a migraine-inducing mess here.

Add in some of the worst lighting imaginable, and you’ve got a show that makes you feel like you’re sitting in the middle of a power outage during a bad student film. The shaky cam doesn’t create tension—it creates nausea.

If you’re looking for sharp, witty dialogue, you’re in the wrong neighborhood. The jokes fall flat, aiming for the kind of low-hanging fruit that would embarrass even a dad joke. Combine this with a plotline that seems allergic to coherence, and you’re left wondering why Amazon MGM Studios keeps greenlighting shows that feel like direct-to-DVD knockoffs.

Oh, and about that TV-G rating? That’s what the screening claimed. Two minutes in, and I’m hearing a barrage of f-bombs, watching gunshots to the head, and wondering if someone at Amazon mixed up their labels. “General Audience,” my popcorn.

If you enjoy punishing yourself, On Call might be your jam.

 The best thing about this show? It’s free on Prime. But even then, you might feel like asking for a refund on your time. 

My prediction? 
Season two is as likely as Lori Loughlin teaching an ethics class.

Trivia: Just so you walk away with something useful today
The Long Beach Police Department is one of the 10 largest in California, known for its progressive policies—though it probably wasn’t expecting this portrayal.

In summary, On Call dials up a lot of ambition but forgets to leave a coherent voicemail.

If you’re tuning in on January 9, 
I recommend you bring a strong drink and low expectations.

Yes, I realize it's after Christmas already. Technically, this film takes place during Jolly ol' Saint Nicks off season. And this film caught me by surprise in all of the best ways.

Once in a while, a movie comes along that takes a familiar concept and flips it on its head. Enter Fatman, the gritty Christmas film that asks, “What if Santa Claus were a bitter, world-weary veteran, fighting to keep the lights on while fending off hitmen hired by spoiled children?” 

It’s equal parts satire, action, and absurdity, wrapped in a frosty, blood-spattered bow.

Fatman introduces us to Chris Cringle (Mel Gibson), a Santa Claus whose belly jiggles less from jelly and more from exhaustion. He’s grumpy, broke, and losing faith in humanity—a man struggling to reconcile his role as the world’s moral compass in a time when coal deliveries outweigh toys. The United States government subsidizes his operation because, naturally, Santa’s gift-giving stimulates the economy. But even with government checks, his workshop is floundering.

The film brilliantly reimagines Santa as a flawed, human figure—one who shoots beer cans with a pistol, debates taking a military contract to pay the bills, and bemoans the loss of goodwill in a world obsessed with greed. Gibson brings a weariness to the role that feels uncomfortably autobiographical, his lined face and grizzled demeanor echoing the decades of work (and controversy) behind him.

The Assassin and the Naughty List

The plot kicks into gear when Billy (Chance Hurstfield), a wealthy, diabolical pre-teen, receives a lump of coal for Christmas. Infuriated, he hires a hitman known as the Skinny Man (Walton Goggins) to take out Santa. Goggins, who seems to thrive in roles that allow him to be both sinister and hilariously self-aware, delivers a standout performance. His Skinny Man collects Santa’s toys as trophies, carries a hamster as his road-trip buddy, and embarks on a relentless mission to track down Chris Cringle.

Their eventual collision feels inevitable, even if the journey takes its time. The showdown is brief but bloody, with just enough chaos to satisfy action junkies. 

And yes, this might be the only Christmas movie where Santa Claus ends up drooling blood—talk about putting the “red” in red suit.

What makes Fatman shine is its grounded yet fantastical take on the Santa mythos. The elves are hard-working, sugar-fueled union workers, committed to their craft even when it means assembling fighter jet parts instead of toys. Ruth Cringle (Marianne Jean-Baptiste), Chris’s wife, serves as the heart of the film, balancing his gruff cynicism with warmth and quiet resilience. Their relationship feels authentic, adding depth to a movie that could have easily leaned too heavily on gimmicks.

Fun Fact: To maintain authenticity, the actors portraying the elves wore specially designed prosthetic ears and spent hours in workshops learning toy-making techniques. (Okay, maybe not that last part, but wouldn’t it be great if they did?)

A Missed Opportunity for More Madness

As much as Fatman nails its world-building and performances, it does leave you wanting more. The film hints at darker, more satirical themes—like the commodification of Santa and the moral decay of society—but never fully commits to exploring them. Walton Goggins’ character, while deliciously eccentric, could have benefitted from a deeper backstory. Why does he hate Santa so much? And Billy, the rich, sociopathic child, could have been an even more compelling foil for Chris if given more screen time.

Still, these shortcomings don’t derail the movie’s overall charm. The clever premise, combined with strong performances and a unique spin on holiday tropes, makes Fatman a thoroughly entertaining ride.

Final Thoughts: A Cult Christmas Classic in the Making

Fatman isn’t your typical feel-good holiday movie, and that’s exactly why it works. It’s dark, gritty, and a little absurd, but beneath the blood and cynicism lies a surprisingly heartfelt story about perseverance and belief in a better world—even when that world doesn’t deserve it.

If you’re looking for something different this holiday season—something that blends satire, action, and just the right amount of ridiculousness—Fatman deserves a spot on your naughty (or nice) list. After all, who doesn’t want to see Santa in a shootout? 🎅💥 Everyone in the film was incredible, including Mel and Walter Goggins. 

The Film is currently streaming free on Tubi

Let’s take a nostalgic dive back to 1998 when Hollywood decided to unleash its first crack at the iconic Japanese kaiju with Godzilla. Directed by Roland Emmerich, the mastermind behind Independence Day, this iteration of the King of Monsters didn’t just stomp into theaters—it cannonballed, leaving behind a tidal wave of mixed reviews. 

But love it or hate it, this big-budget blockbuster is a fascinating piece of cinematic history, complete with towering highs, disappointing lows, and just enough charm to earn its spot as a “so-bad-it’s-good” cult classic.

The opening act of Godzilla is where this movie truly shines. Emmerich builds suspense masterfully, teasing the monster’s arrival through clever glimpses—giant footprints, colossal tail swipes, and legs that could crush city blocks. By the time Godzilla makes his grand entrance in New York City, you’re hooked. The destruction is cinematic, the tension palpable, and the visuals—while dated—still manage to capture the grandeur of a giant reptilian behemoth stomping through the Big Apple.

Trivia Time: Did you know that the filmmakers consulted paleontologists to design the new Godzilla? The intent was to create a leaner, more reptilian creature inspired by dinosaurs, diverging from the bulkier, man-in-a-suit design of the Japanese original.

The Creature Design: Love It or Hate It

Say what you will about this movie’s narrative, but the redesign of Godzilla was bold. This isn’t your grandpa’s kaiju. Gone is the hulking, rubber-suited figure of old; in its place stands a sleek, muscular beast with a more dinosaur-like aesthetic. While purists were up in arms, this modern take undeniably fit the late ‘90s vibe, catering to an audience that had just fallen in love with Jurassic Park. Personally, I appreciated the leaner, meaner look—it made Godzilla feel more dynamic, even if the film forgot to give him much personality beyond smashing stuff.

Raptors in the Garden

Unfortunately, after the first act, Godzilla dives headfirst into a generic blockbuster formula and never resurfaces. The suspense and wonder give way to a derivative plot involving Godzilla nesting 200 eggs in Madison Square Garden, leading to a chase sequence that feels more like a Jurassic Park knockoff than a kaiju showdown. Suddenly, we’re watching raptor-like baby Godzillas scampering around as our human protagonists duck, dodge, and outrun them in what feels like a PG-13 video game.

And let’s not forget the absurdity of a 130-foot monster “disappearing” in New York City. Sure, NYC is a sprawling metropolis, but come on—a creature this size couldn’t hide behind a streetlamp, let alone vanish into thin air. The scale inconsistencies throughout the film are laughable, with Godzilla shrinking and growing depending on the scene’s needs.

It may sound like we are tearing the film down, but we are not. The story is perfect to introduce you to Godzilla and the first half of the movie involves seeing (Just enough) of Godzilla to make it incredibly believable. They clearly also used real SFX as opposed to CG for a good amount of the film. Once they started using CG in the film, well, Godzilla came crashing down.

The ensemble cast boasts some notable names—Matthew Broderick, Jean Reno, Maria Pitillo, Hank Azaria, and R. Lee Ermey. Broderick’s bumbling scientist and Pitillo’s wide-eyed reporter are serviceable, but none of the performances are memorable. Even Reno, usually a scene-stealer, feels underutilized. It’s a shame, given the talent on display, that the script didn’t offer more depth or development for the human players. On the rewatch though, the reality is that Matthew Broderick and Hank Azaria were absolute perfection in the film, they just weren’t given enough to work with.

Despite its flaws, Godzilla (1998) made a splash at the box office, 
but it wasn’t enough to warrant a sequel.

 Plans for a franchise were scrapped, and what we got instead was Godzilla: The Series, an animated spin-off that ran for two seasons. While the show has its fans, it never reached the same level of notoriety as its cinematic counterpart.

Interestingly, Toho Studios, the creators of the original Godzilla, later renamed this version "Zilla" to distinguish it from their beloved kaiju, arguing that Emmerich’s creature lacked the spirit of the original. It’s a fitting moniker for a movie that feels like Godzilla in name only—a flashy, Americanized take on Japan’s most iconic monster.

A Big, Dumb, Fun Disaster

Look, Godzilla (1998) is far from perfect. It’s a product of its time, stuffed with late-‘90s blockbuster clichés, laughable logic, and a second half that can’t decide if it’s a monster movie or a raptor chase. But despite all that—or maybe because of it—it’s still a guilty pleasure. The first act delivers some genuinely thrilling moments, and the sheer spectacle of Godzilla stomping through NYC is worth the price of admission alone.

Sometimes, you just need to embrace the chaos, grab a bucket of popcorn, and let a giant lizard trash Manhattan. For all its missteps, Godzilla is a fun, mindless romp that reminds us why we love monster movies in the first place. Sure, it’s no King of the Monsters, but it’s not trying to be. It’s a loud, messy, over-the-top ride that fails with style—and honestly, isn’t that what Godzilla is all about?

You can find it streaming for free on a variety of services and we suggest you do

The 90’s were a wild west for filmmaking. It was somewhere between the 80’s and practical effects that still hold up today and the 2000’s jumping into CGI. 

Let’s start with the obvious: if you’re looking for a James Cameron-level undersea thriller like The Abyss, The Rift is not it. Heck, it’s not even in the same ocean.

 Released a year after Cameron’s 1989 masterpiece, The Rift (also known as Endless Descent in some markets) feels like the cinematic equivalent of showing up to a party two hours late, wearing an ill-fitting knockoff tuxedo. It’s cheap, unoriginal, and bafflingly bad—but for some, that’s part of the charm.

Plot? What Plot?

The story is textbook “B-movie cash grab.” Submarine engineer Wick Hayes (Jack Scalia) is dragged back into action when one of his creations, the Siren I, goes missing during a deep-sea mission. He joins a rescue expedition aboard the Siren II, captained by Randall Phillips (R. Lee Ermey) and manned by a ragtag crew, including technician Robbins (Ray Wise) and Hayes’ ex-wife Ana Riviera (Ely Pouget). 

Together, they descend into the titular rift, only to discover a noxious undersea weed, terrible CGI, and a script that probably should’ve stayed in the abyss.

Production Design: Office Building and the Dollar Store Submarine

Let’s talk about visuals. Making a movie aboard a submarine is an incredible idea for a college film I am sure, minimal sets because you are on something that looks the same, over and over. The submarine interiors look like someone raided an office building, added a few blinking lights, and called it a day. The exterior? Imagine the Beatles’ Yellow Submarine after a trip to the dollar store. Everything—from the sets to the costumes—screams “we spent all our budget on a wrap party at pizza hut.”  This wouldn’t be a dealbreaker if the movie had a sharp script or decent performances to make up for it. 

But, much like the Siren II, the film sinks fast.

If you’re a stickler for scientific accuracy, The Rift will make your head spin. The Siren II somehow descends 25,000 feet into the ocean, crashes into an iceberg (wait, what?), and later manages to dive even deeper than the ocean physically allows. Forget suspension of disbelief—you’re going to need a suspension bridge of disbelief to get through this.

Still, these nonsensical moments are some of the film’s unintentional highlights. 

They’re so absurd they become entertaining, like watching a toddler try to explain quantum physics with crayons.

The cast brings a small glimmer of hope, at least on paper. R. Lee Ermey does his usual drill sergeant routine, which is fun if not exactly groundbreaking. Ray Wise, always a reliable performer, leans into the absurdity and delivers a performance that says, 

“I know this is bad, but let’s have fun anyway.”

Unfortunately, the rest of the cast falls flat. Jack Scalia looks like he’s waiting for someone to yell “cut” so he can hit the craft services table. Ely Pouget tries her best, but she’s given little to work with. And the Spanish extras trying to act in English add an extra layer of awkward charm. The real question is: why did so many low-budget production companies decide that The Abyss was going to spark an undersea thriller revolution? 

Spoiler alert: it didn’t. 

While Cameron’s film is brilliant, it wasn’t the massive box office success Fox was hoping for.

Yet we got The Rift, along with other knockoffs like Leviathan, Deep Star Six, and The Evil Below. The difference? At least those other films managed to get wet. The Rift avoids water almost entirely, which is ironic considering it’s an undersea thriller. It feels more like a dry office drama with some cheap sci-fi props thrown in for flavor.

Is It So-Bad-It’s-Good?

If you’re into disasterpieces—films so bad they’re kind of amazing—The Rift might be for you. It’s woefully inept, shamelessly derivative, and often unintentionally hilarious. The only reason I made it to the end was to write this review. Otherwise, staring at a well-assembled wall would have been a better use of my time. Mystery Science Theatre needs to immediately put this on the list.

Sinking Fast

The Rift isn’t just a bad movie—it’s an impressively bad movie. From its nonsensical science to its bargain-basement production design, it’s a trainwreck of epic proportions. And yet, for masochists and fans of “so-bad-it’s-good” cinema, it has its charms.

If you’re looking for high-quality undersea thrills, go watch The Abyss. But if you want to have a couple drinks first (Highly recommended), laugh at a submarine hitting an iceberg 25,000 feet below sea level, The Rift is ready and waiting… for better or worse.

It is currently streaming for free with your Amazon Prime membership. You may still question if you want to try and get your money back at the end of it. 

Let’s get this out of the way right now: from a far, far distance, Gladiator II has the makings of a pretty compelling story. You’ve got Hanno (Paul Mescal), a soldier with a dark past, fighting alongside his adoptive people to stop Roman conquest, only to lose and be enslaved by the very man who destroyed his life, Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal). Meanwhile, Acacius grapples with disillusionment over Rome’s corruption, clinging to the dream of a just empire alongside Lucilla (Connie Nielsen), while Macrinus (Denzel Washington), the powerful master of gladiators, schemes in the shadows. 

Add in a flooded Colosseum naval battle with sharks—yes, sharks—
and on paper, it sounds like an epic worth cheering for.

But you get closer to the film, and… yikes. Gladiator II is less Ave Imperator and more “We’re gonna need another rewrite.”

About 75% of the movie feels like a remix of the original Gladiator—
and not in a good way. 

Some shots are literally recycled from the first film, as if Ridley Scott decided, "Why shoot new footage when the old stuff is right there?" It’s déjà vu with a side of dust and sandals.
The original Gladiator wasn’t exactly a paragon of historical accuracy, and this sequel says, “Hold my mead.” Rome’s political complexities? Reduced to cartoonish stereotypes.
The emperors Caracalla and Geta, real historical figures with a brutal, tragic rivalry, are transformed into toga-wearing clichés straight out of a bad HBO pilot.
But let’s be real: if you’re coming to Gladiator II for a Ken Burns-level history lesson, that’s on you. This isn’t The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. It’s Sharks in the Colosseum.

The Good, the Bad, and the CGI Monkeys

Let’s talk about the good, because there is some. Pedro Pascal is a revelation. His performance as Marcus Acacius is magnetic, balancing gravitas with vulnerability, and honestly, he deserved way more screen time. Paul Mescal as Hanno is serviceable, though his character never reaches the emotional heights of Maximus in the original. And Denzel Washington? He’s here to chew scenery, and boy does he deliver. Is he convincing as a Roman gladiator puppet master? Not really. Is he entertaining as hell? Absolutely.

Then there’s the naval battle. A fight in a flooded Colosseum, complete with sharks, is so gloriously absurd it circles back to genius. It’s one of the few moments in the film where you can feel the creative sparks flying, even if they’re accompanied by a suspiciously bad CGI sky.
Speaking of CGI, let’s address the mutant monkeys. Yes, you read that correctly. At one point, the gladiators are attacked by oversized, inaccurate primates that look like they escaped from a PS3 cutscene. 

It’s moments like this that make you wonder if the effects team was trolling us.

The script tries—almost—to say something profound about Rome’s toxic nostalgia for its imperial past, but it chickens out and settles for more trite dialogue instead. Every time the movie hints at a deeper theme, it pulls back, as if worried the audience might put down their popcorn to think.
The hand-painted art sequence at the beginning, recapping the first film, is a welcome touch. It’s visually striking and a creative way to catch up the audience without a clunky exposition dump. More of that energy throughout the movie would have gone a long way.

Final Verdict: Rome Wasn’t Built on CGI Alone

Gladiator II has its moments—Pedro Pascal’s brilliance, Denzel Washington’s hammy gravitas, and a shark-infested Colosseum that deserves its own spinoff. But those moments are buried under a pile of rehashed plot points, awkward dialogue, and CGI choices that feel more Sharknado than Scott.
Is it worth seeing? Sure, if only for the novelty of watching Rome crumble under the weight of its own absurdity. But next time, maybe let South Park’s Russell Crowe tackle the sequel. At least then we’d know it was supposed to be ridiculous.

Unfortunately, I've seen more "Reviews" by "Professionals" online that have absolutely missed the mark with this beauty. You understand who Bruce Campbell is (Evil Dead, Army of Darkness, Burn Notice, etc). You also understand what you are about to sit down and splurge on when you watch a movie produced by the king of B-movies. Hopefully....

"I’m not just a guy with a chainsaw for a hand. I’m a guy with a chainsaw for a hand... and a job at S-Mart."- Ash Williams 

If you’ve ever worked retail during the holidays, Black Friday will feel like a surreal fever dream fueled by caffeine and leftover turkey. If you haven't worked retail before at some point in your life, (Looking at you Karen's), I am sure you will demand to speak to the manager when you are done watching. 

Directed by Casey Tebo and starring the one and only Bruce Campbell, this horror-comedy B-movie swaps your typical shambling zombies for an alien life form that turns frenzied shoppers into grotesque killing machines. 

Sure, the metaphor for retail hell and capitalist greed is about as subtle as a doorbuster ad, but that doesn’t stop Black Friday from being a bloody fun ride packed with campy thrills, gnarly gore, and plenty of laughs.

It is a Retail Apocalypse with a Side of Alien Goo…

The movie centers on a ragtag group of toy store employees gearing up for the annual Black Friday madness, blissfully unaware that the worst customers of their lives are about to show up. Instead of demanding discounts, these shoppers bring a pulsating pink alien parasite that turns them into violent, mindless monsters. Left to fend for themselves, employees Ken (Devon Sawa), Chris (Ryan Lee), Marnie (Ivana Baquero), Archie (Michael Jai White), Brian (Stephen Peck), and store manager Jonathan (Bruce Campbell) must survive the night, putting aside their workplace gripes in the process.

The plot is simple but effective: survive, kill monsters, and try not to clock in overtime.

It's a setup that thrives on its chaos, delivering both horror and humor with a side of gooey alien carnage.

Bruce Campbell is the Black Friday MVP (Are you shocked?) 

Let’s get one thing straight: Bruce Campbell makes everything better. As the bumbling and slightly sleazy store manager Jonathan, Campbell is in top form, chewing scenery like it’s a Thanksgiving turkey. He never straps a chainsaw to his arm, He doesn't even technically "save the universe" this time around. He is the whining, scared store manager with a pencil thin mustache that we have all had at one point. To be honest, it's a guilty pleasure I never knew I had by seeing Ash Williams in this way.

His performance is so entertaining that you’d almost forgive him for making the schedule and forgetting
to approve your PTO request. 

Devon Sawa brings surprising charm to his role as Ken, the lovable slacker dad who ends up leading the charge, while Stephen Peck as the hilariously dramatic Brian is a soap opera villain trapped in a retail nightmare.

Unfortunately, Black Friday underused Michael Jai White, an action icon who deserves more than being stuck in a toy aisle. 

Let’s be real: we needed at least one epic martial arts showdown with a possessed Barbie or alien Furby. Missed opportunity, Tebo.

It is pure Campy Carnage with Killer Effects

Tebo walks a tightrope between silly and scary, and for the most part, he sticks the landing. The movie’s horror visuals lean heavily on practical effects, with prosthetics and pulsating alien goo that are deliciously gross. The parasite monsters are a love letter to classic creature features like The Blob and The Thing, and there’s something undeniably satisfying about seeing alien-infected shoppers explode into writhing piles of pink slime. I believe they may have used a total of 15 seconds that has some form of CGI, the kind that adheres and enhances a Bruce Campbell classic. 

The humor lands more often than not, with several laugh-out-loud visual gags that perfectly capture the absurdity of retail chaos. 

Watching a coworker impale a goo-monster with a toy lightsaber? Pure catharsis for anyone who's ever
survived a holiday shift.

A Bit of B-Movie Baggage

Now, Black Friday isn’t without its flaws, but even they have their own campy charm. The story feels like it was scribbled on a napkin during a late-night retail therapy session. Plot holes abound, characters make baffling choices, and you’re never 100% sure what’s happening or why. But honestly, does it matter? You’re here for alien goo and Bruce Campbell, not an airtight screenplay.

The film also stumbles with its attempt at social commentary. The whole “shoppers-turned-monsters” metaphor for consumerism is about as nuanced as a clearance bin, and some character stereotypes lean into questionable territory. But hey, subtlety isn’t what you’re signing up for when you watch a movie called Black Friday.

Trivia Time: Did You Know?

• Black Friday marks another collaboration between Bruce Campbell and practical effects legend Robert Kurtzman, whose work includes The Evil Dead and From Dusk Till Dawn.
• Many of the prosthetic monster designs were created using recycled toy parts as a not so subtle nod to the store’s setting.
• The store’s name, We Love Toys, is a direct reference to director Casey Tebo’s first job working in a real toy store.

Final Thoughts: Chaotic, Gooey Fun

Black Friday is a campy love letter to B-movies, retail nightmares, and the chaos of holiday shopping. It’s not perfect, but it doesn’t need to be. With Bruce Campbell’s scene-stealing antics, inventive creature effects, and a hearty dose of absurd humor, this film is a perfect choice for anyone looking to unwind after surviving the real Black Friday. 

Just make sure to clock out first—this one’s worth the overtime.

Black Friday is available to stream free on Amazon Prime Video. You can watch it here.

So, It has been almost Three Decades since the perfect film was created from a 16 year olds story. (Seriously, Luc Besson was 16 when he started this story). And they had an anniversary showing at AMC, I couldn't resist seeing it again. As I sat down with around 30 people in the theater, it finally occurred to me that one of my favorite films had such an impact on many lives that I never realized. Everyone in the theater was grinning from ear to ear and in true surround sound, they all said some of the more popular lines word for word as they came up. CGI doesn't hold up long, it becomes outdated and visually aged every time you blink. The CG in this film from 1997 holds up today because the majority of the film is practical, including the full ships, sets and entire cities physically built to make it work. Those aliens? Costumes. 

What do you get when you mix $90 million, a teenage fever dream, and a director with the audacity to think 

"what if a flying pineapple was the pinnacle of alien engineering"? 

You get The Fifth Element, a dazzling, bonkers, and entirely preposterous sci-fi adventure that dares you not to love it. Luc Besson’s candy-colored opus didn’t just open the Cannes Film Festival—it blasted through it like a flying taxi in a 23rd-century traffic jam.

Let’s get one thing clear: this isn’t “good” in the Citizen Kane sense. It’s more like someone spilled neon paint on a Star Wars script and yelled, “Add a diva with tentacle hair and let’s roll!” The result is a wild, visually stunning romp that’s impossible to forget and even harder to dislike.

The movie kicks off in Egypt, 1914—because where else would ancient prophecies be chilling? In a dusty tomb, we learn that the fate of the universe depends on four mystical stones representing the elements: earth, air, fire, and water. Naturally, a spaceship shaped like a hairy pineapple lands to whisk them away for safekeeping. Fast-forward to the 23rd century, where Earth is under threat from a giant evil space fireball (because of course it is).

Enter Leeloo (Milla Jovovich), a genetically-engineered superwoman who’s the physical embodiment of the mysterious fifth element. She’s got flaming red hair, an outfit made of Ace bandages (thanks, Jean-Paul Gaultier!), and a knack for punching through glass and grabbing generals in, uh, sensitive places.
After a daring leap off a ledge, she crash-lands into the cab of Korben Dallas (Bruce Willis), a grumpy ex-military guy who just wants to get through his day without saving the universe. Spoiler alert: he doesn’t. Together, they embark on a whirlwind journey to stop the fiery doom hurtling toward Earth, while tangling with bulldog-faced aliens, corrupt industrialist Zorg (a gloriously unhinged Gary Oldman), 

and Chris Tucker as Ruby Rhod, the most chaotic DJ to ever grace a movie screen.

If The Fifth Element has a single defining strength, it’s the jaw-dropping visuals. Luc Besson doesn’t just create a world; he creates several—each one more eccentric than the last. New York City of the future is a stunning, chaotic mix of soaring towers and grimy, claustrophobic apartments. Spaceships gleam like Vegas casinos, while alien designs ditch the Star Trek aesthetic for something wildly imaginative.

And then there’s the diva. Oh, the diva. A hauntingly blue opera singer with tendrils sprouting from her head, she delivers one of the most memorable scenes in sci-fi history—a performance that somehow turns into a martial arts battle because, sure, why not?
The technical team deserves its own standing ovation: Thierry Arbogast’s cinematography is stunning, Dan Weil’s production design is endlessly inventive, and Digital Domain’s special effects make space look as magical and weird as it should.

Jovovich’s Leeloo is magnetic, balancing vulnerability with butt-kicking prowess, all while rocking what might be the boldest wardrobe in sci-fi history. Willis’s Korben Dallas is your classic Bruce Willis—grizzled, sarcastic, and reluctantly heroic. But the real scene-stealers are the supporting cast.
Gary Oldman’s Zorg is a pitch-perfect villain—equal parts menacing and ridiculous, with a plastic headpiece that screams “midlife crisis cosplay.” And then there’s Chris Tucker’s Ruby Rhod, a high-pitched whirlwind of leopard print and chaos, hosting an intergalactic reality show that’s just as bizarre as it sounds.

Sure, the story is a fever dream, and the dialogue can get cringe-y (do we really need this many jokes about "multi-pass"?). But none of that matters. The Fifth Element is a film you watch with your eyes wide, your jaw dropped, and your brain turned off just enough to enjoy the ride. It’s absurd, it’s gorgeous, and it’s gloriously self-aware.

The Fifth Element isn’t just a movie; it’s a full sensory assault, a technicolor explosion of imagination and spectacle. It’s goofy, yes. It’s preposterous, absolutely. But it’s also pure, unfiltered fun.
So, grab your multi-pass, buckle up your flying taxi, and dive into a world where pineapple-shaped spaceships, opera-singing aliens, and Bruce Willis save the day. It’s sci-fi at its silliest—and that’s exactly why it’s perfect.

Welcome to Apocalypse Z (The Beginning of the End), a Prime Video zombie flick hailing from the shores of Spain. It doesn’t reinvent the wheel—honestly, it barely even puts new rims on it—but what it does, it does just well enough to earn a solid thumbs up. Oh, and it features what might just be the second-best horror cat of 2024. (Your rankings may vary, but this feline is officially on my “ride or die” list.)

The movie kicks off during the early days of a viral outbreak—think a not-so-distant future where things start looking grim real fast. A new variant shows up that spreads like wildfire via bites, and shocker: nobody’s watched a zombie flick before. Governments respond with their usual genius tactics—lockdowns, evacuations, panic—and our protagonist finds himself completely alone. Well, not totally alone. 

He’s got his trusty cat sidekick, because every zombie apocalypse needs some emotional support, 

preferably with whiskers.

Here’s the twist: for the first half of this nearly two-hour movie, the zombies are more “concept” than “constant threat.” There’s barely a shambling corpse in sight, which, let’s be honest, is a bit of a tease when you came for the undead carnage. Instead, we get to watch our dude navigate his middle-class neighborhood, scavenging food and surviving day-to-day life like it’s an extended episode of Extreme Hoarders: Apocalypse Edition. Honestly? It works. Even without hordes of the infected, watching him hustle to feed himself (and, obviously, his MVP cat) was surprisingly engaging.

When the zombies do show up, they’re the fast kind—infected humans, not your classic undead shamblers. And while they’re not exactly game-changers in the genre, the movie does throw in some fun twists. Our Spanish hero, apparently inspired by Shark Week, suits up in a bite-resistant wetsuit and takes on the undead with a spear gun. That’s right, a freaking spear gun. Because, you know, Spain doesn’t exactly have Glocks at the corner store. It’s a hilariously unique approach and one of the movie’s standout moments.

If you’re hoping for a gorefest, though, this isn’t the film for you. It’s pretty tame on the blood-and-guts front—more like zombie survival light than the Olympics of Flesh Chomping. There’s a body count, sure, but don’t expect the kind of hardcore carnage you’d find in something like Train to Busan.

Plot-wise, the story doesn’t break new ground. It’s the classic “lone survivor meets other humans, some good, some bad” tale. 

He fights zombies, navigates tough choices, and does what he can to keep himself (and his furry companion) alive. You’ve seen it before, but hey, it’s well-shot, decently dramatic, and even a little tense in places. It does its job, and sometimes that’s enough.

Of course, because every franchise these days needs a cliffhanger, Apocalypse Z ends with a big ol’ “To Be Continued…” Prepare yourself for Apocalypse Z: The Middle of the End. Or, if we’re lucky, Apocalypse Z: The End of the End. Either way, I’d be up for a sequel, even if it’s just more of the same. After all, I’m already invested in seeing how far this guy and his cat can go. But for the price (Free), I would definitely grab a cold one, or RC Cola and enjoy the catastrophe, Kidding, Had to include that last pun. It's a great film to turn your brain off and enjoy.  

Christmas, Kung-Fu Santa, and a confused wrestler—

what do they have in common?

 According to Amazon, everything. Welcome to Red One, Amazon’s latest attempt to create a holiday classic that’s as timeless as fruitcake but with the punch of a Fast & Furious sequel. 

If you’ve seen the trailer and found yourself thinking, “Wait, what did I just watch?” you’re not alone. 

The plot kicks off with Santa (a.k.a. Red One) being kidnapped, and the North Pole’s elite “military” has to rescue him before Christmas gets ruined for everyone. Think Fast & Furious, but with sleigh chases and magic gadgets instead of street racers and nitrous. Yes, you read that right—sleigh chases. It’s like Vin Diesel meets Santa’s Workshop, and somehow, we’re all invited along for the ride.

Let’s talk highlights first. Amazon Studios, in collaboration with their shiny new acquisition MGM, has been pumping out some impressive productions lately, like the award-winning Fallout series. The visuals in Red One are stunning, and the pacing is relentless. It’s the kind of movie where if you blink, you’ll probably miss three fight scenes, a sleigh explosion, and Santa landing a roundhouse kick. 
 

For better or worse, it’s clear they took the Fast & Furious formula and applied it to a Christmas movie. 

With a $250 million budget, the film doesn’t skimp on star power. The standout performances come from Lucy Liu, who throws herself into the role with gusto, and J.K. Simmons as Saint Nicholas. Now, J.K. Simmons isn’t exactly the first name that comes to mind when you think of Santa, but he nails it, delivering a surprisingly heartfelt and grumpy version of the jolly old man. He’s a Santa you wouldn’t want to cross—unless you like coal or lawsuits.

Then there’s Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson and Chris Evans. Look, if you’ve seen The Rock in one movie, you’ve basically seen him in them all. He’s got the eyebrow raise, the dramatic slow-turn, and about as much range as a holiday ham. And don’t get me started on Nick Kroll, who feels as misplaced here as a snowman in the Sahara. As for Chris Evans, the guy’s a talented actor, but in this film, he’s phoning it in. It’s like he realized halfway through that he’s playing second fiddle to a CGI polar bear doing martial arts and decided to just collect the paycheck.

The script? Let’s just say it’s got all the depth of a Hallmark card and about as much subtlety. Written by the folks behind Jumanji and Fast & Furious, it’s packed with cheesy jokes about candy canes, milk, and cookies—because of course it is. There’s even an attempt to shoehorn in a moral about family and the importance of staying off the Naughty List. But the mix of PG-13 cussing, endless fight scenes, and torturing Santa makes you wonder who this movie is actually for. It’s like they couldn’t decide between making a kid’s movie or a holiday action flick and just mashed them together with a candy cane-shaped crowbar.

And the CGI—oh boy. We’re talking two major studios here, yet half the film’s effects look like they were borrowed from a late ‘90s video game. I get it, training a polar bear to do Kung-Fu isn’t practical (PETA would have a field day), but some of the CG is downright cringe-worthy. That said, the moment Krampus and his twisted minions show up, it’s a breath of fresh (and terrifying) air. The practical effects, makeup, and prosthetics in these scenes are genuinely impressive and stand out as some of the film’s best moments.

In the end, if you don’t catch Red One in theaters, don’t worry—it’ll be on Amazon Prime before you can say “Merry Christmas.” It’s being shown in IMAX, though I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe they figured if you’re going to watch Santa battling terrorists, you might as well see it on the biggest screen possible. If you’ve ever wanted to know what a polar bear in a ballistic vest looks like while fighting crime, this might just be your new favorite Christmas movie. Otherwise, stick with the true holiday classics, pop Die Hard into the DVD player, and enjoy the season the old-fashioned way.

If you’re like me, the name Chopping Mall probably sounds like just another forgotten '80s slasher flick collecting dust on some obscure B-movie recommendation list. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve rolled my eyes and swiped past it, thinking, “Great, more screaming teens and a masked psycho with a vendetta.” Let’s face it: slashers have been done. But then someone casually dropped this bomb: “It’s actually about killer robots protecting a mall!” And like a moth to a laser beam, I was instantly drawn back.

“Killer robots, you say? Well, now you’ve got my attention.”

Imagine if Johnny Five from Short Circuit took a night shift as a mall security guard and then decided to go full robo-psycho. That’s Chopping Mall for you. In a bid to protect the most sacred of American institutions (the mall, obviously), Park Plaza brings in three robotic “Protector” models to patrol the premises after hours. These bots are fully loaded with lasers—yes, LASERS—because nothing says “don’t shoplift” like a killer droid that can zap you into next week. They’ll only malfunction if, say, a lightning bolt strikes their rooftop control computer, which is, like, totally improbable, right?

Yeah, except in this movie, that’s practically a guaranteed plot twist.

On the very night these overzealous Roombas go on a murder spree, a bunch of mall employees decide it’s the perfect time to throw an after-hours party. These lovable goofballs are way too busy making out and cracking jokes to notice that the mall is on lockdown and a killer robot parade is about to begin. Honestly, I didn’t expect a film like this to have actual laugh-out-loud moments, but Chopping Mall snuck some snappy one-liners in there that caught me off guard.

Enter Allison Parks, the girl-next-door with a shy smile, high-waisted jeans, and some seriously deadly aim. Played by Kelli Maroney (Night of the Comet), Allison is our badass Final Girl of the evening, going head-to-head with the robots like she's channeling her inner Dirty Harry. Forget killer machines—she’s already taken on giant spiders!

Here’s the thing: I’d probably watch a non-robot movie with these characters, because they’re that fun to hang out with. But lucky for us, the killer robots are in full force and bring some hilariously inventive kills with them. These bots don’t just stomp around like knock-off Terminators; they play mind games and deliver their death blows in absurd ways. Case in point: a janitor gets fried when one of the robots decides to zap a puddle of water he’s mopping up. Because, obviously, that’s how robots roll.

When the teens finally clue in that something’s gone terribly wrong—maybe the moment a bot blows their friend’s head off in the middle of the mall—they actually spring into action. Armed with the mall's finest weapons and a solid ‘80s can-do attitude, they start plotting their escape. Sadly, no cellphones to call for help (thanks, 1980s), but we do get a sweet tour of mall life back then, which, aside from store names, hasn’t changed all that much.

Let’s be real: you’re not going to watch Chopping Mall expecting a serious horror film. No, this is a bonkers joyride of laser-wielding bots running amok in a mall, and it knows it’s ridiculous. Honestly, I thought this had to be some modern-day parody of cheesy ‘80s horror, but nope—this movie is the real deal, straight out of 1986. The tight editing and rapid pacing keep things moving from one absurd moment to the next, and there’s something truly impressive about how well this low-budget slice of madness is pulled off. It’s the kind of dumb fun that becomes… oddly admirable?

The robots themselves are a blast to watch—whether they’re smashing through plate glass windows or chatting amongst themselves in their robot-y way, they’re always a riot. The icing on this absurd cake? Chuck Cirino’s synth-heavy score, which alternates between creepy, upbeat, and downright catchy.

In the end, Chopping Mall delivers exactly what it promises: pure entertainment. With quirky characters, a bizarre premise, and robots straight out of the 1980s’ wildest fever dream, it’s a blast from start to finish. Bonus fun fact: the mall itself was also the backdrop for classics like Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Commando, and Terminator 2. But hey, those films didn’t have killer security robots, so who’s really winning here?

Final Notes for you: For one, this film is due for a remake, especially in todays climate of AI and half broken Tesla Robots. And lastly, as a final warning or bonus depending on who you are. A lot of 80's nudity is in the film, so do not watch it with your grandma.