March 2026

 

TRUE CONFESSIONS (1981) 

     It’s easy to name the highlights of Robert Duvall’s career—his business-like lawyer Tom Hagen, the adopted son of the Corleones; war-loving Lt. Col. Kilgore in “Apocalypse Now; the disciplinarian in “The Great Santini”; the soft-spoken country singer in “Tender Mercies”; Frank Hackett, the snarling television exec in “Network” and a great man of the West, Gus McCrae in “Lonesome Dove”—but what made him memorable was his consistency through more than five decades of performances, as both a star and supporting player. His death last month marked the end of one of finest acting careers in American film history.    

       Memorably, the same actor who tearfully whispered to Marlon Brando “They shot Sonny on the Causeway. He’s dead” also observed with bravado to anyone within earshot “I love the smell of napalm in the morning.” He didn’t disappear into roles, but, like the classic pre-war film actors, Duvall brought a vast array of characters alive, convincingly revealing their humanity, flaws and virtues.  

     By my account, Duvall should have been nominated for 10 Oscars (the Academy gave him seven, including a best actor win for “Tender Mercies”) and deserved three supporting awards, for “The Godfather,” “Network” and “Apocalypse Now.”

     Like his roommates from the early 1960s, Gene Hackman and Dustin Hoffman (what are the odds?), he was primarily seen as a character actor, yet all three became star-actors. One of Duvall’s best starring roles was in the crime film “True Confessions,” little-seen at its release and quickly forgotten. 

      In this perfectly structured and superbly scripted film, Duvall delivers the kind of underplayed performance, not unlike his work in “The Godfather” pictures, that should be studied by every young film actor. He does more with a turn of the head, his trademark throaty guffaw, squinting eyes and toothy grin than most actors deliver with a page-long monologue.  

      “True Confessions,” directed by Broadway veteran Ulu Grosbard, matches two of the finest actors of our time, Duvall and Robert De Niro, as brothers; De Niro as a Catholic priest and Duvall as a police detective in postwar Los Angeles. The script by the married couple Joan Didion and John Gregory Dunne (based on his novel) was clearly inspired by the classic Warner Bros. pictures of the 1930s—when cops and priests were always Irish—and the real-life Los Angeles “Black Dahlia” 1947 murder of a young actress. But unlike “Angels with Dirty Faces” and other pictures of that era, the church in “True Confessions” finds itself connected to the sex crime and a pornographer. The script also astutely captures post-war L.A.: the influence of the Catholic Church, the city’s Mexican roots and the corruption of law enforcement.

     But at its heart, “True Confessions” is about the blood connection, despite their varying views of life, that remains between the brothers. Watching these two actors together for the only time in their long careers (obviously, they were both in but had no scenes together in “The Godfather, Part II”), De Niro taking the more reflective, less showy role, is a reminder that in the 1970s and early ‘80s the power of acting fueled American movies.

      Duvall’s most overlooked great performance can be found in “Tomorrow,” the 1972 Horton Foote-adaptation of a William Faulkner short story set in rural Mississippi. Duvall stars as the taciturn workingman Jackson Fentry, who takes in and bonds with a pregnant woman. This plaintive, black-and-white movie (it plays like a forgotten movie from the early sound era) is miles away from the mob lawyer and fixer he played the same year in “The Godfather,” a testament to Duvall’s ability to use his recognizable acting method to create people from very worlds.

      In his later years, Duvall’s theatrical duality, pairing soft-spoken readings and explosive anger, often came off as predictable and hammy, including “The Apostle,” “A Civil Action,” and most of his supporting roles in the last 20 years; the exceptions being his New York editor in “The Paper,” an amusing cliché; and the aging tyrant in “The Judge.” But even with all his distinctive tics, he made every film better. Just as telling, his absence from “The Godfather, Part III” created a huge hole in Francis Coppola’s film.

      Legendary New York Times film critic Vincent Canby once wrote that Duvall was “America’s Olivier.” And though he never reached the stardom of his contemporaries De Niro, Al Pacino or Jack Nicholson, he brought acting precision and unbridled commitment to some of the most memorable characters of the last half-century of American cinema.

  

CRIME 101 (2026)

     There’s nothing spectacular about this well-plotted, Los Angeles-set jewelry heist thriller. But that’s fine. We need more pictures that don’t strive for raves from influencers and simply provide a lively, thoughtful two hours at the cinema.

     Based on acclaimed crime writer Don Winslow’s novella of the same name, the movie follows a determined police detective (a Colombo-like Mark Ruffalo) who seems to have figured out the MO of a shy, cautious thief (steely-eyed Chris Hemsworth) who robs stores up and down the California coast.

    The story kicks up a notch when Davis, the thief, turns down a job from his handler (Nick Nolte, even more gravelly voiced than usual) and it’s botched by his replacement, a punk on a motorcycle played sneeringly by Barry Keoghan, a 2022 Oscar nominee for “The Banshees of Inisherin.”

     Meanwhile, we’re introduced to event insurance agent (who knew?) Sharon (Halle Berry, under-utilized by Hollywood since her 2001 Oscar win), who Davis enlists in his latest heist plan, which, of course, he promises, will be his last.

     Winslow and director Bart Layton (“American Animals”) bring it all together in a snappy finale set inside the famous Beverly Wilshire Hotel.

     Hemsworth, the Australian best known as Thor in “The Avengers” films, is well cast as the inarticulate, but clever thief. Needless to say, Ruffalo fits this type of off-kilter, smart-as-hell character like a glove.

      The superb cast also includes two more previous Oscar nominees: Jennifer Jason Leigh as Lou’s separated wife, who deserved more screen time, and Monica Barbaro (Joan Baez in “A Complete Unknown”) as Davis’s love interest who manages to find the heart of this secretive man. I can only dream that more pictures can boast of a supporting cast of six Academy Award nominees.  

  

THE BLACK PIRATE (1926) and SPARROWS (1926)

    One hundred years ago, Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford were the most famous couple in the world. Since the marriage of these two Hollywood stars in 1920, nearly every movie they made was a hit and when they travelled the world—which they seemed to nearly every year—they were mobbed by crowds. From China to Chicago to Paris, movie fans fought to get a glimpse of the pair.

     Fairbanks, who specialized in acrobatic derring-do, came to Hollywood in 1915, already a star on Broadway. By 1920, when he began his run of swashbuckling adventure films (“The Mark of Zorro,” “The Three Musketeers,” “Robin Hood,” and “The Thief of Bagdad”) his movie popularity was matched only by his best friend, Charlie Chaplin. The year before, the two buddies along with Pickford and director D.W. Griffith, in the hopes of giving actors more control over the final product, created United Artists, a releasing company that continues today.

     Pickford, who came to Hollywood as a teenager in 1909 with Griffith’s company (appearing in about 50 shorts that first year), soon became known as the “Girl with the Curls” for her roles as a young innocent and trademark hairstyle. Pickford was so beloved by audiences in heartwarming adolescence roles that she continued to play children into her 30s.  

     In “Sparrows,” she’s a teenager tasked with playing mother to a half-dozen toddlers (and a couple of infants) at a horrific, back-woods “baby farm.” Primarily unwed mothers would pay to have someone care for their child, a version of foster care popular in the early years of the 20^th Century. Minus regulations, “Sparrow” shows the evil owner mistreating the children and using them to tend his farm.

     The picture doesn’t have much to offer until the final 20 minutes when Pickford’s Molly helps the children escape, leading them through the swap land that surrounds the farm, avoiding deadly quicksand and hungry alligators. It reminds one of some of Griffith’s thrilling chases. Of course, a teary ending follows.

     “The Black Pirate” is one of Fairbanks’ best films, as he plays a nobleman who pretends to be a pirate to seek revenge on the man (Sam De Grasse, legendary bad guy of silents) who killed his father. The pirate ship setting gives Fairbanks the chance to glide up and down the mast and showoff his fencing prowess.

      The film is also one of the most successful uses of two-strip Technicolor process. Though far from the quality that the company would achieve by the early 1930s, it was popular with audiences. The print available on YouTube has a distinctive look that certainly makes it stand out among the usual black-and-white silents.

     Among the stars of the film is Donald Crisp (originally set to direct the film), playing a shipmate loyal to Fairbanks’ Black Pirate. The actor, part of Griffith’s company for many years, became a beloved character actor during Hollywood’s Golden Age, memorably in “How Green Was My Valley.”    

       Not long after “The Black Pirate,” Fairbanks lost interest in moviemaking, preferring to travel the world and golf. His career wasn’t helped when rumors of an affair put an end to the fairytale of Pickfair, the couple’s Beverly Hills mansion. The couple divorced in 1936 and three years later, Fairbanks died of a heart attack at age 56. (Pickford marriage to “Wings” star Buddy Rogers lasted for 42 years, until her death in 1979.)

      Not only did Fairbanks almost single-handedly invent the adventure film but he was among the first free-spending stars (by 1920 both Doug and Mary were earning over $1 million a year), pioneering the lifestyle that movie stars would become famous for. One of the most interesting figures of the early 20^th Century, Fairbanks is entertainingly profiled in “The First King of Hollywood” by Tracey Goessel, both a well-researched bio and an excellent introduction to silent film and early Hollywood.

  

PROJECT HAIL MARY (2026)

      Because of my dismissal of “La La Land” and “Barbie” as nonsensical junk, I failed to pick up on the fact that Ryan Gosling has become one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. That’s why he finds himself as a virtual one-man show in this big-budget sci-fi epic that combines elements of “Interstellar” and “E.T.” While the film doesn’t reach the heights of either of those films, it’s an entertaining mix of save-the-world gadgetry and heartwarming close encounters.

      The picture opens with Gosling’s Prof. Ryland Grace realizing he’s the only crew member left on a space ship headed to a star in a distant galaxy, having only a vague idea of why he’s there. Through flashbacks, Grace remembers, and the audience sees, what led to his current dilemma. (He doesn’t know how to navigate the spacecraft, but it seems to be pretty much self-driving.)

    To put it simply as I can (most of the details went way over my head), an alien energy force is weakening our Sun and Project Hail Mary’s mission (named for the football lingo) is to find a way to stop it. For reasons that can’t be determined by Earth’s scientists, this distant star Grace is bound for seems to be immune from this energy force. 

     But before the tech talk gets too thick, our one-man crew meets up with a creature who shares the Earth’s concerns. His planet faces extinction from the same molecular troublemaker.

     In what seems like record time, Grace and this crab-like rock learn to communicate (voiced by James Ortiz) and start working together on the problem. Once Grace christens him “Rocky,” their relationship becomes the heart of the movie---almost to the point that their shared existential fears are secondary to their bromance.

    The flashback scenes are anchored by Sandra Hüller (the wife in both “The Zone of Interest” and “Anatomy of a Fall”), as the all-business director of the project who never stops reminding Grace (and us) of the seriousness of the situation.   

     Directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller (“The Lego Movie,” the “Jump Street” comedies) do a good job of mixing the pre-flight scenes with the space scenes—brilliantly shot by Greig Fraser—to maintain the mystery in the first third of the film and deepening our understanding of Grace in the last third. I was less impressed with Drew Goddard’s adaptation of Andy Weir’s novel (he also scripted Weir’s “The Martian” for the 2015 film), in that he both overloads the picture with scientific details while never making non-astronaut Grace’s space feats believable.

      Gosling’s screen presence holds the film together, a giant step-up from his recent efforts (“The Fall Guy” was unwatchable), but it still doesn’t come close to his best work from early in his career, including “Half Nelson” (2006), “Lars and the Real Girl” (2007), “Blue Valentine” (2010) and “The Place Beyond the Pines” (2012). But I guess that actor is long gone—he’s now a star.

  

TALES OF MANHATTAN (1942)

     Anthology films pop up every so often, but have never been a popular trend. A list of the best of this offbeat genre includes “Fantasia” (1940), “Dead of Night” (1945), “O. Henry’s Full House” (1952), “New York Stories” (1989), “The Ballad of Buster Scruggs” (2018) and two Jim Jarmusch pictures, “Mystery Train” (1989) and last year’s “Father Mother Sister Brother.”

     Highly entertaining and featuring one of the best casts ever assembled, “Tales of Manhattan” follows a man’s old-fashioned tailcoat, which brings both good and bad luck to its owners after being cursed by its maker.

     The first segment stars Charles Boyer as a suave suitor of flirty Rita Hayworth, leading to a showdown with her alcoholic husband (Thomas Mitchell) at a party. Superbly acted and elegantly written (it’s not clear which screenwriter worked on which episode), this is the one segment that easily could have been a full-length feature. Adding a comic element to the episode is the always memorable Eugene Pallette as Boyer’s faithful butler.

     After two clichéd segments---Charles Laughton as a musician whose big moment is ruined by the jacket and a love triangle featuring Henry Fonda, Ginger Rogers and Cesar Romero—Edward G. Robinson plays a desperate man living in a low-rent hotel who puts on the dog at his college’s 25^th reunion. He’s renewed by reconnecting with classmates until one arrogant classmate (George Sanders) calls him out. It’s one of Robinson’s finest performances.

     Surprisingly, 20^th Century Fox included a Black segment in which the jacket filled with cash gets tossed out of a plane, landing on a farm of singer-actors Paul Robeson and Ethel Waters. They take it to the village minister (Eddie “Rochester” Anderson of “Jack Benny Show” fame), who decides to make the prayers of every member of the community come true. Typical of how African-Americans were treated by Hollywood in that era, they are portrayed as wide-eyed innocents who burst into song at the drop of a hat.

     Another episode filmed by French director Julien Duvivier (“Un Carnet de bal,” “Pepe le Moko”), and then later cut by the studio, stars W.C. Fields as Prof. Pufflewhistle, a snake-oil salesman who entertains a room filed with upright citizens, covertly getting them drunk. The segment also features Marx Bros.’ alumni Margaret Dumont. Both the film and the Fields’ outtake are available on YouTube.    

      The director’s next picture was another star-studded anthology film, “Flesh and Fantasy” (1943), also featuring Robinson and Boyer along with Barbara Stanwyck.

            

THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES (1971)

    This gruesome nightmare of a film opens in a ballroom featuring a robotic pop band (Dr. Phibes’ Clockwork Wizards), a costumed female dancer and an elaborate church organ, which rises from below floor level, played by Anton Phibes. Vincent Price, of course, is Phibes, looking like his face is a mask, sporting a gray Beatle-like wig and draped in an oversized black cloak.

     Falling somewhere between the Price-Roger Corman Poe adaptations and an early version of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show,” this creepy British horror movie, lingering over the hideously defaced murder victims more than earns its cult status. The film’s palette emphasizes reds, blacks and purples, all deeply saturated contrasting with Phibes’ cadaver-like face.

    The plot follows Dr. Phibes’ Bible-based scenario to kill everyone involved in the failed attempt to save his late wife. Even after Scotland Yard catches on to his pattern, they are too inept to stop it. Between murders, the film presents musical and dancing interludes; at one point the Clockwork Wizards play a version of “One for My Baby,” the Frank Sinatra standard. 

    Saved for last is Dr. Vesalius (a slumming Joseph Cotten), who cooperates with the detectives in hopes of apprehending the insane criminal. For reasons that are made clear by the end, Price’s Phibes never speaks but his voice is heard via a recording he controls.

      I found this oddball relic on YouTube as part of an on-line show called “Creature Features,” modeled after those late-night movie programs popular in the 1970s and ‘80s. (Watching the film includes endless ads and silly skits to click through.)    

     The picture, beyond its distinctive look, is well directed by Robert Fuest, who also directed the nearly as insane “The Devil’s Rain” (1975), with Ernest Borgnine as the devil and William Shatner as his determined foe. He also was behind the camera for “Dr. Phibes Rises Again” (1972), which adds Peter Cushing to the cast.

 

DEAD OF WINTER (2025)

      For nearly 40 years, Emma Thompson has been among the most consistently excellent actresses in both American and British films. No one was more impressive during the 1990s, starring in “Howards End,” “The Remain of the Day,” “In the Name of the Father” and “Sense and Sensibility,” which also earned her an Oscar for adapted screenplay.

     Since then, she has shined as a woman dying of cancer in the TV movie “Wit,” in her three roles in the television version of “Angels in America,” as Prof. Trelawney in a handful of “Harry Potter” films, as Goneril opposite Anthony Hopkins’ “King Lear” and as a talk show host making a comeback in “Late Night.”

     Deserving more attention is her most recent film, “Dead of Winter,” streaming on HBO/Max in which she plays an ordinary woman who finds herself facing deadly circumstances. After getting used to Thompson’s Minnesota accent (it sounds as if she watched Francis McDormand in “Fargo” over and over), she perfectly captures the will-do, determined attitude of Midwesterners.

     Barb, seeking directions to a frozen lake, stumbles on the kidnapping of a young girl, held by a gun-toting couple (Judy Greer and Marc Menchaca) holed up in a camp house deep in the snow-bound hinterland of northern Minnesota.

     The why and wherefores are revealed in drips by screenwriters Nicholas Jacobson-Larson and Dalton Leeb, leaving the viewers with just their resolve that Thompson won’t stop until she’s freed the girl or is killed trying. Much of the action takes place on the frozen lake, with the deadly water below the ice a constant threat.

      Part of the appeal of the film is that you don’t expect to encounter murder and mayhem with Emma Thompson in the middle of it. But she turns out to be a refreshing, very humane, alternative to the usual action hero.
 

 THE GREAT SILENCE (1968)

    Most spaghetti Westerns are a mix of tough-guy attitude, lingering shots of the hills of Spain or Italy and jolting closeups, in support of a childishly simple plot.

     What elevates this creation of Sergio Corbucci, best known as the writer-director of “Django” (1966), is the casting of two of the era’s most interesting actors, France’s Jean-Louis Trintignant (“A Man and a Woman,” “Z,” “The Conformist”) and Germany’s Klaus Kinski (“A Bullet for the General,” “Aguirre, the Wrath of God”) as rival gunmen in the Old West.  

       Kinski’s Loco leads a ruthless group of criminals who live in the mountains of Utah, killing indiscriminately in hopes of scoring bounties. Among their victims is the husband of Pauline (Vonetta McGee, later in “Blacula” and “Shaft in Africa”), a black woman living in a small Utah mountain settlement.

       After she nurses Trintignant’s Silenzio, a mute gunfighter, back to health, he becomes her protector, facing desperate odds versus Loco’s gang.

      Adding to the intensity of the film is the unrelenting snow drifts that make the simplest actions more difficult; few films look as achingly cold as “The Great Silence.”

     Along with the fine acting, dominating geography and surprisingly diverse casting (for the late 60s), the film’s ending is among the most cynical you’re likely to see. Proving that not all spaghetti Westerns were made with cookie cutters.

 

 

PHOTOS:

Robert De Niro and Robert Duvall as brothers in “True Confessions.”  (United Artists)

Douglas Fairbanks is “The Black Pirate” (United Artists)

Ryan Gosling in "Project Hail Mary." (Amazon MGM Studios)

Vincent Price as a twisted doctor-musician in “The Abominable Dr. Phibes.” (American International Pictures)

Jean-Louis Trintignant plays a mute gunfighter in “The Great Silence.”  (The Criterion Channel)

Best of 2025

 

 

  Films

  1  Hamnet

   2  Train Dreams

   3  The Phoenician Scheme

   4  Is This Thing On?

   5  Bugonia

   6  A House of Dynamite

   7  Wake Up Dead Man

   8  Warfare

   9  Sinners

 10  Mission: Impossible—The Final Reckoning

 

 11  F1: The Movie

 12  Sorry, Baby

 13  Father Mother Sister Brother

 14  Die My Love

 15  Frankenstein

 16  One Battle After Another

 17  Dead of Winter

 18  Caught Stealing

 19  Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale

 20  The Ballad of Wallis Island

 

 

 Director  

 1  Chloé Zhao, Hamnet

 2  Clint Bentley, Train Dreams

 3  Yorgos Lanthimos, Bugonia

 4  Wes Anderson, The Phoenician Scheme

 5  Kathryn Bigelow, A House of Dynamite

 

Actor

1  Joel Edgerton, Train Dreams

2  Michael B. Jordan, Sinners

3  Benicio Del Toro, The Phoenician Scheme

4 Timothée Chalamet, Marty Supreme

5  Will Arnett, Is This Thing On?

 

Actress

1  Jessie Buckley, Hamnet

2  Jennifer Lawrence, Die My Love

3  Emma Stone, Bugonia

4  Eva Victor, Sorry, Baby

5  Rose Byrne, If I Had Legs I’d Kick You

 

Supporting Actor

1  Benicio Del Toro, One Battle After Another

2  Sean Penn, One Battle After Another

3  William H. Macy, Train Dreams

4  Delroy Lindo, Sinners

5  Abel Ferrara, Marty Supreme

 

Supporting Actress

1  Teyana Taylor, One Battle After Another

2  Glenn Close, Wake Up Dead Man

3  Chase Infiniti, One Battle After Another

4  Mia Threapleton, The Phoenician Scheme

5  Amy Madigan, Weapons

 

Screenwriter

1  Clint Bentley and Greg Kwedar, Train Dreams

2  Chloé Zhao and Maggie O’Farrell, Hamnet

3  Wes Anderson and Roman Coppola, The Phoenician Scheme

4  Will Tracy, Bugonia

5  Bradley Cooper, Will Arnett and Mark Chappell, Is This Thing On?

 

Cinematographer

1  Lukasz Zal, Hamnet

2  Dan Laustsen, Frankenstein

3  Adolpho Veloso, Train Dreams

4  Autumn Durald Arkapaw, Sinners

5  Claudio Miranda, F1: The Movie

February 2026

2025 OSCAR NOMINATIONS

       When 55 percent of the acting nominations come from three films—“Sinners,” “One Battle After Another” and “Sentimental Value”—it signals to me that either the Academy members need to see more movies or the voters have given up and just follow the critics Oscar predictions.

       While the Norwegian film is well written and acted (it would be in my Top 10 if I included foreign-language films), anyone who thinks it’s the best acted foreign film ever to reach our shores—no foreign film has ever had four (or even three) acting nominations—needs to spend more time reading subtitles.

       I’m not taking issue with any of those selections, but please Oscar voters, broaden your picks: Among the most blatant miscues this year are the omissions of Joel Edgerton’s sorrowful performance as a turn-of-the-century logger in “Train Dreams,” William H. Macy as a wise old man in the same film, Jennifer Lawrence having a nervous breakdown as a young mother in “Die My Love,” Glenn Close’s hilarious take on the ultimate church lady, Will Arnett as a budding standup comedian in “Is This Thing On?” and Benicio Del Toro’s as a determined tycoon in the satirical “The Phoenician Scheme.”

       For another example of the myopic nature of Academy voters, take a look at the nominees in adapted screenplay, casting (a new category), score, cinematography, editing and production design. Every contender represents one of the best picture nominees.

      On the topic of best picture picks: Did anyone other than racing enthusiasts imagine “F1: The Movie” as a best picture nominee last summer? I liked the film but it tells you how weak 2025 was for movies. If the voters wanted a popcorn movie in the competition they should have voted for the concluding chapter of “Mission: Impossible.”

     “Hamnet” and “Train Dreams” were the two best films I saw in 2025 so I’ll be rooting for those films (and Jessie Buckley’s heartbreaking performance) on March 15.

     Here’s my Top 10 as of now, with the hope that some hidden gem from 2025 will pop up at the last minute. My full “best of” list will appear on the blog next month.

 1  Hamnet (Chloe Zhao)

 2  Train Dreams (Clint Bentley)

 3  The Phoenician Scheme (Wes Anderson)

 4  Is This Thing On? (Bradley Cooper)

 5  Bugonia (Yorgos Lanthimos)

 6  A House of Dynamite (Kathryn Bigelow)

 7  Wake Up Dead Man (Rian Johnson)

 8  Warfare (Alex Garland and Ray Mendoza)

 9  Sinners (Ryan Coogler)

10  Mission: Impossible—The Final Reckoning (Christopher McQuarrie)

  

IS THIS THING ON?  (2025)

     Bradley Cooper’s three outings as a director seem, on the surface, quite different (“A Star Is Born” and “The Maestro” before the new one) but they all deal, to different degrees, with how to keep a marriage alive without each partner giving up their identity.

     In “Is This Thing On?” he smartly passes the lead role to someone else, the unpretentious, regular-guy TV and voice actor Will Arnett, who expertly captures the easily distracted, cluelessness of a middle-aged husband and father. Arnett’s Alex is married to Tess (Laura Dern), a former Olympian volleyball player who clearly seeks something more in her life than housemother.

     Separated and living alone in an apartment in Manhattan, he stumbles into a club having “open mike night,” signing up for a spot on the bill to avoid paying the cover (of course, he could have walked half-a-block and found another bar). In his few minutes on stage, he laments his marital situation, almost turning it into a therapy session.

     From that point on, he starts taking stand-up serious, showing up nightly at the Comedy Cellar and becoming part of the gang of regular comics. Meanwhile, his relationship with Tess seems to change with every meeting.

    As you can tell from this brief summary, there isn’t much to the plot of the film, but every conversation between Alex and Tess and every time we see Alex doing stand-up, offers real insight into the realities of modern marriage, beyond the melodrama Hollywood films usually dish out.

    While it’s no surprise that Dern delivers a thoughtful, complex performance as Tess; she’s been doing it consistently since she was a teenager, but Arnett was a revelation to me. Best known for his role in the long-running series “Arrested Development,” which I’ve never seen, Arnett’s film work is 90 percent as a voice actor in animation, including as Batman in the “Lego” movies.

     Under Cooper’s direction, with a script by Cooper, Arnett and Mark Chappell, based on British comedian John Bishop’s life, the actor makes the journey from accidental performer to featured comedian completely believable, even as he struggles to figure out his life.

    The supporting cast is just as good: Cooper as his best friend, a grass-smoking bit actor who gives bad advice; Andra Day as Cooper’s forgiving wife; the ultimate wise old man Ciaran Hinds as Arnett’s father and Christine Ebersole, who I had no idea was old enough to play grandmother roles, as his mother.

     Lending to the authenticity, the film features a bunch of actual New York City comedians, including Sam Jay, Erin Jackson, Greer Barnes and the legendary Dave Attell.

  

MARTY SUPREME (2025)

     There’s a good movie to be made about the life of Marty Reisman, a world- famous ping pong champ of the 1950s, but “Marty Supreme” isn’t it.

     Josh Safdie’s film is a collection of unpleasant adventures that illustrate a year or so in the life of a self-centered, deceitful, unsympathetic young man.

      Marty (a kinetic Timothée Chalamet) works in his uncle’s shoe store but his laser focus is on getting the money to attend a table tennis competition in London. When his uncle refuses him, Marty steals from the business. Then, while supposedly concentrating on his sport at the tournament, Marty takes a penthouse suite at the Ritz (billing it all to the tennis table association) and seduces a retired silent film star (Gwyneth Paltrow).

      Yes, there are some specular ping pong matches, but the film has little interest in how Marty earned his reputation in the sport or how successful he’s been in the past. For much of the picture, he’s shown doing terrible things to everyone he meets in hopes of cashing in.

      In two episodes, neither having much to do with anything, a mobster (Abel Ferrara) engages in a bloody shoot-out to retrieve his dog and Marty sets fire to a bunch of local ping pong players he just hustled. Every sequence in the film seems to be an outtake from another movie. Not to pile on, but Safdie’s overuse of extreme closeups and a loud, off-putting score by Daniel Lopatin told me that the director didn’t trust his story or dialogue.

      Chalamet does his best with this unlikeable character but the story never allowed me to understand his lack of a moral center. He’ll probably take home the best actor Oscar but I’m not sure why. I have nothing against movie anti-heroes (see “The Godfather,” “A Clockwork Orange,” “Pulp Fiction,” “Joker” and the entire filmography of Martin Scorsese) but Marty comes off as charmless, irritating and never pays for his bad behavior.

     To me, the best performances in the film are delivered by Ferrara, the veteran director of violent cult films including “King of New York” (1990) and “Bad Lieutenant” (1992), as a bad guy Marty tries to rip off, and Odessa A’zion as Marty’s cousin who, for no visible reason, loves him.

     Also in the cast is Fran Drescher, as Marty’s mother, magician Penn Jillette, former NBA star George Gervin and Kevin O’Leary from the TV show “Shark Tanks.” Unfortunately, O’ Leary plays a major role as Paltrow’s husband who, for a time, takes a liking to Marty. His acting is what you’d expect from a reality TV performer. (I guess Mark Cuban wasn’t available.)

     A lighter touch by director Safdie (who made “Uncut Gems” with brother Benny) and co-writer Ronald Bronstein might have made for a very entertaining film, in the vein of “Catch Me If You Can” or “Paper Moon,” but this heavy-handed, frenetic tale of unbridled ambition left me as cold as Marty’s heart.    

              

DIE MY LOVE (2025) and IF I HAD LEGS I’D KICK YOU (2025)

     Two of the year’s best performances are in films that test one’s tolerance for the depiction of extreme human emotions. Yet considering that a majority of American movies involve worlds of sci-fi and fantasy—at least it seems that way—I shouldn’t complain about even the most unwatchable characters who are actual earthlings.

      In “Die My Love,” Jennifer Lawrence, among the most accomplished actresses of her generation, delivers a scorching performance as Grace, a struggling writer who moves with boyfriend Jackson (a properly confused Robert Pattinson) to his Montana hometown, near his parents, while expecting their first child.

     After the birth, Grace slips into the worst case of postpartum depression you’ve ever seen, in part because Jackson is away at work or, she suspects, having an affair. She continues to spiral, growing more self-destructive and argumentative as the film, written and directed by Lynne Ramsay (“Morvern Callar”), grows more disjointed, reflecting her state of mind while taxing the audience’s. I was lost more than once during the movie but Lawrence’s intense, painful acting carries one through.

     The first-rate supporting cast aids greatly in holding the plot together. Sissy Spacek and Nick Nolte play Grace’s in-laws and LaKeith Stanfield has a small role as a mysterious neighbor.

      In contrast, Rose Byrne’s Oscar-nominated performance as a distressed mother cannot save “If I Had Legs I’d Kick You.” I never was quite sure if I should pity Byrne’s Linda, an irritating, foolish woman who makes one bad decision after another or sympathize with her burden of dealing with a young child with a serious illness. No matter how you react, the movie is nearly unwatchable.

    It’s almost a shock when you first realize that Linda is a therapist—the idea of her guiding others through troubles is incomprehensible. Just as bad is her fellow therapist (who also treats her) played stiffly by Conan O’Brien. Not sure why O’Brien was cast, but he is clearly no actor.

      One of the oddest choices director Mary Bronstein makes is not showing the child. You hear her and watch as Linda interacts with her, but the camera never reveals the girl’s face. If there was a point, I missed it.

     The plot drifts along after a pipe break in Linda’s house creates a huge hole in the ceiling, forcing her and the child to live in a hotel (the father is away on a work trip). At the hotel she meets a young man (rapper A$AP Rocky) who she smokes pot with, developing an odd love/hate relationship.

      Byne creates a chaotic personality who has no clue as to how to calmly deal with her life. I never doubted the truth of the situation, but that didn’t make it a tale worth watching. 

  

FATHER MOTHER SISTER BROTHER (2025)

     Writer-director Jim Jarmusch is an acquired taste. His quirky characters, slow pacing and often absurd dialogue lives in its own world, far from mainstream or even most independent movies. I can’t say I’ve liked even the majority of his films, but since his breakthrough 1984 feature “Stranger Than Paradise,” he’s brought a distinctive, brutally honest point of view rarely investigated by American films.

      His latest plays out like a carefully constructed short story collection: three stories of families linked only by the idea of how children and parents can grow distant, strangers to one another.

      In the first episode, Adam Driver and Mayim Bialik play brother and sister enroute to visit their hermit-like father (longtime Jarmusch compadre Tom Waits, reason enough to see the film). During the visit, all three struggle to maintain a conversation and it becomes clear to the viewer than the father is lying to his children about his life.

      The second section moves us to London, where a haughty novelist (the always regal Charlotte Rampling) hosts an annual tea for her very different daughters: the rebellious younger one Lilith (Vicky Krieps) and the stiff, uncomfortable Timothea (Cate Blanchett). The gathering isn’t much more joyous than the previous story; seemingly everyone is hiding their lives from one another.

     The last part offers the most upbeat look at family relations, but sadly the twin sister and brother (Indya Moore and Luka Sabbat) are brough together by the recent death of their parents. They seem too normal, too adjusted to be in a Jarmusch film, but I guess he wanted to end on a positive note. 

      While this doesn’t rank with the director’s best works---“Stranger Than Paradise,” “Down by Law,” “Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai,” and “Paterson”—it’s an insightful, if offhanded, tale of how many find the simple act of communicating so difficult.

  

SORRY, BABY (2025)

    I recognize that I am out of step with the critical consensus that “independent” movies—even if no one can properly define indie films—represent the best in cinema as we enter the second quarter of the century. Most of them bore the hell out of me, including last year’s best picture winner, “Anora.”

     But “Sorry, Baby,” primarily due to impressive talent of writer-director-star Eva Victor, is the exception to the rule.

       The film has all the hallmarks of a typical indie: an unhappy, traumatized 20something seeking the meaning in life; shifting timeframe; long self-indulgent conversations; characters and actors representing all strata of society; and the lack of typical movie dramatics. But Victor, making her feature directing debut, manages to deal with issues while giving her characters something interesting to say.

    She plays Agnes, a literature teacher at a small New England college, who continues to struggle with a sexual assault that took place at the school while she was a student there. Much of the first act focuses on a visit by her friend Lydie (Naomi Ackie), who is having a baby with her partner, and her efforts to cheer-up Agnes. The film then goes back in time to vaguely explain what happen between her and her former doctorate adviser.

     Late in the film, the always welcomed John Carroll Lynch shows up as a restaurant owner who helps Agnes calm down after a confusing confrontation with a colleague.

    A struggling actor since 2014, Victor scored a Golden Globe nomination for her performance in “Sorry, Baby” and has received numerous “best first feature” from a number of critic groups.   

THE RING (1952)

      Most of the B-movies I watch offer little more than minor variations on the murder-mystery formula as performed by a cast of no-name actors. But every so often, in my nightly searches on YouTube, I discover a long-forgotten gem that has something more substantial to offer.

      Set in a mid-century Mexican neighborhood of Los Angeles, “The Ring” tells the story of a 20something son who attempts to help his family out of their financial struggles by becoming a prize fighter. But more than that, the picture exposes the bigotry, both subtle and blatant, that Latinos faced daily in L.A.

    Tommy (Lalo Rios) is recruited by boxing manager Pete (Gerald Mohr) when he’s spotted punching a couple of men after he and his date (played by 21-year-old Rita Moreno) are insulted in a tavern. This incident happens the same day Tommy’s father (Martin Garralaga) turns down a job on Olvera Street, the original site of the Mexican settlement of Los Angeles, to pose as a “lazy Mexican” for white tourists. Cinematographer Russell Harlan, who went on to collect six Oscar nominations including for “To Kill a Mockingbird,” shoots in various neighborhoods of the city, as it becomes almost another character in the movie.

     I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a film, certainly not one from the 1950s, that so directly highlights the racism toward Spanish speakers. There’s a scene later in the film where Tommy and his friends go to a diner in Beverly Hills, spurring the manager to immediate call the police.

     But when the cop recognizes Tommy from one of his bouts, he demands the waitress serve the boys and stays around to make sure they are properly treated. Even a bit of fame changes everything; without the boxer’s presence it would have been a different story.

     The boxing scenes are well done and brutal, especially when Tommy defies his manager, letting his early success go to his head. His bout with Art Aragon (the one-time popular L.A. fighter plays himself) gives him a taste of the sport’s reality.

     Rios later had small roles in “Touch of Evil” (1958) and “The Magnificent Seven” (1960), but spent most of his career in episodical television. 

     Director Kurt Neumann, a genre filmmaker whose most successful picture was “The Fly” (1958) with Vincent Price, and novelist and screenwriter Irving Shulman (“Rebel Without a Cause”), working for the King Brothers, famous B-movie producers of the era, all deserve acclaim for making a movie about an issue few in the 1950s wanted to hear about.   

     Sadly, the racist attitudes didn’t change much over the next 25 years and few Latinos were the focus of Hollywood movies, adding to the importance of “The Ring.”

THE ALTO KNIGHTS (2025)

      For no good reason, pure ego maybe, Robert De Niro plays both Frank Costello and Vito Genovese, two aging mob bosses making a play for power in the 1950s. Why anyone though this was a good idea—no makeup can turn De Niro into two different men, is beyond me.

     Plodding direction by long-time De Niro collaborator Barry Levinson (“Wag the Dog,” “Wizard of Lies”) and an under-developed script by Nicholas Pileggi (“Goodfellas,” “Casino”) doesn’t help matters, especially when you are presenting a story well known to anyone familiar with mid-century Mafia power struggles.

      The two criminals, who both started as bootleggers under legendary mobster Lucky Luciano, went on to become powerful figures in the crime families in the 1930s through the ‘50s.

     Genovese, who fled to Fascist Italy to avoid murder charges during the war years, returned to New York expecting to hold power over his family. But Costello, who had grown more dominate in the Cosa Nostra since Genovese’s exile, is determined to keep his old friend at bay. The complicated struggle for control is never made clear in the film, but it was short-lived as Vito was sent to prison in 1959 on drug charges and died there.

    Not only is De Niro too old for these roles—both men where in their 50s during the film’s main timeframe, but he wears so much plastic prosthetics that it’s distracting. Why try to make this world-famous actor look like two guys that 99 percent of the audience has never seen? I guess De Niro put his trust in Levinson, but this is the kind of picture I’d expect to see Eric Roberts or Steven Seagal star in.

    The supporting cast doesn’t leave much of an impression other than Debra Messing as Costello’s long-suffering wife. Oddly, Carlo Gambino (James Ciccone), who, at the time, was the most powerful figure in organized crime, crowned by Genovese, is reduced to a minor character in “Alto Knights.”

     A more interesting mob story is the refusal of J. Edgar Hoover, the all-powerful FBI director, to acknowledge even the existence of the Mafia for decades, giving them free range to run unions, take a cut from most of American commerce, organize the illegal drug trade and murder at will.

        

PHOTOS:

 Jessie Buckley at the Globe Theatre in “Hamnet.”  (Focus Features)

 Will Arnett on stage in “Is This Thing On?”  (Searchlight Pictures)

 Mayim Bialik, Tom Waits and Adam Driver in “Father Mother Sister Brother.”  (MUBI)

Rita Moreno and Lalo Rios in "The Ring."  (United Artists)

 Robert De Niro times two in “The Alto Knights.” (Warner Bros.)