Thursday, August 13, 2026

"The End of Oak Street" - The Burbs.

If I'm ranking all of the Jurassic Park and Jurassic World movies, it would go like this - Jurassic Park, The End of Oak Street, tie between Jurassic Park 2 and 3, fifty feet of crap, and then a four-way tie at the bottom by the Jurassic World movies. No, The End of Oak Street is not a Jurassic Park/World movie. But it has the same plot (people trying to not get eaten by dinosaurs), minus that whole cloning thing. If nothing else, it's a spiritual cousin.

When creating a dinosaur chase movie, the key is to come up with a good premise that answers the question - how do the humans find themselves being chased by extinct animals? Not one of the sequels to Jurassic Park offered a premise that can be described as good or interesting or thoughtful or not Jurassic Park's premise warmed over; they all sprinted in the opposite direction. Oak Street took that lesson to heart and landed on "random time bubble swaps chunk of 1982 Detroit suburb with same chunk of land from dinosaur times." Ok...it's nowhere near as clever as cloned-dinosaur theme park, but it's also nowhere near as stupid as mutant dinosaur military auction. But it's easily good enough for us to suspend our disbelief and enjoy the show.

That show centers on the Platt family. They are seemingly the ideal middle-class nuclear family consisting of husband Greg (Ewan McGregor), wife Denise (Anne Hathaway), teenage daughter Audrey (Maisy Stella), and teenage son Brian (Christian Convery). They even have a scruffy, troublemaking dog named Starbuck. So, when the proverbial (dino)shit hits the fan, we're preprogrammed to root for them. There's no reason to introduce family strife, right?

Wrong. I'm sure there's a narrative reason for all families in all movies to have family issues, but I have yet to hear one that actually matters. And all is definitely not right with the Platts. Greg has lost his job with one of the big auto companies, kept it secret from the family, drinks too much, and has resorted to delivering pizzas to make money. Denise is angry and frustrated with Greg because she's not stupid and has eyes. Brian accidentally broke a kid's arm and is anxiously hiding out from the kid's vengeful older brother. Starbuck keeps digging holes in the neighbor's yard and that neighbor has a gun. Audrey wants to go to college to study astronomy and is a lesbian – neither of which is inherently a problem.  But it's 1982 and society gave extra side-eye to a smart, motivated female who doesn’t fit the misogynistic mold. The point is that none of that stuff matters once the running and screaming begins.

Oh, that stuff comes up again, but none of it furthers the plot at all. It's good for a little character building, but mostly just serves as annoying little sidetracks when there's a break in the action. For example, that older brother does find Brian (well after the time bubble swap) and beats him up a little bit. But his little brother gets him to stop and they run away, never to be seen by cameras again. We don't know if they get eaten, find another time bubble and escape, or accidentally step on a butterfly which leads to a future where Earth is ruled by cyborg octopi. And since they aren't used as a plot device to grant Brian absolution, or allow the Platts to escape being a T-Rex snack, why introduce this subplot at all?

The good news is that's the extent of this film's problems. And they are truly small problems, particularly considering they consume precious little time of the film's brisk ninety-nine-minute runtime. In fact, the film as a whole is quite good and very entertaining. You see the thoughtfulness of the filmmakers early in the excellent pacing of the film. The family dynamics are set up rather quickly, then a solid amount of time is spent building up to the reveal of their situation. The film does an excellent job of feeling like a slow burn without making the audience think "get to it already." And the thoughtfulness shows itself throughout the film. Action scenes that don't come off as contrived. Excellent CGI of the dinosaurs and surrounding environment. Subtle displays of Denise's strength and Greg's weakness (Denise is always driving when they jump in cars). Great camera work, one example in a living room scene where the Platts are discussing their plight and the camera angles nudge us through each character’s perspective.

But perhaps my favorite examples of the thought and care put into the film are a bunch of tongue-in-cheek winks at the audience that the movie is not that serious about itself. Nothing so direct as quipping or breaking the fourth wall. Instead, we have karma rearing its head on multiple characters to resolve earlier conflicts in fun and relevant ways. The film almost intentionally ignores early setups (Audrey's Carl Sagan fandom and general nerdiness do not lead her to the eventual solution to their problem). And a scene where Denise asks Greg to pose for a photo in front of a couple of non-threatening creatures so she can "remember this absurd situation forever." I see what you did there, Denise. Well played.

If, like me, you're tired of an endless string of garbage Jurassic sequels, The End of Oak Street is the cure. It's entertaining, it's clever, it's exactly the kind of popcorn flick on which to end the summer. Even if it doesn't end with an octopus with robot arms.

Rating: Don't ask for any money back. The "absurd" scene is worth it alone.

Saturday, July 25, 2026

"The Odyssey" - The OG.

Did you know Homer's The Odyssey was originally written as twenty-four books? Maybe you had to read The Odyssey in a class back in school and that factoid just dusted some cobwebs off a decades-old memory. So, you can honestly answer yes, you did know that. But I'm betting you didn't read the whole thing, did you? It's written in a style called dactylic hexameter. If that's even half as obnoxious as iambic pentameter, you probably just vomited in your mouth a little bit when recalling trying to read something in dactylic hexameter. The good news is Christopher Nolan's film adaptation of The Odyssey has translated the story from whatever-meter into good old-fashioned epic blockbuster movie.

Full disclosure, I've never read The Odyssey either. If you're like me, you've heard of at least some of the elements in the story. The Trojan Horse. Odysseus' ten-year voyage home after the end of the Trojan War. Odysseus' wife Penelope and son Telemachus enduring a host of suitors trying to woo Penelope into marriage. The cyclops. The sirens. Now that I think about it, I'm not even sure I knew Odysseus encountered the sirens, but am actually remembering the sirens from Jason and the Argonauts. At least I've got the correct civilization's mythology.

This being a Nolan movie, it shouldn't be surprising to learn that the story isn't presented linearly. Don't worry, there's no time travel or dreams within dreams to melt your brain. Instead of depicting a straight timeline of Odysseus' voyage home and the events that occur during that voyage, we get the highlights in a series of flashbacks. Odysseus (Matt Damon) has been trapped on an island without his crew for seven years and his only company is a sea nymph named Calypso (Charlize Theron). Parallel to that, we jump every so often to Odysseus' palace in Ithaca, where Penelope (Anne Hathaway) has been humoring suitors for nearly two decades. Her now-grown son Telemachus (Tom Holland) is aware that the suitors are looking for any reason to kill him, given he's the heir to the throne. Among the suitors is Antinous (Robert Pattinson), who definitely has murder in his eyes.

The jumping back and forth between Odysseus (and Odysseus' flashbacks) and Penelope/Telemachus does a great job of building tension toward a climax. The drama of the film is in if Odysseus can make it back to Ithaca to reunite with his queen, prevent his son's exile/murder, and resume his place as king of Ithaca. The journey to get there is all of that other stuff. And all of that other stuff is just as exciting and tense to sit through, but for different reasons.

And that's the reason you should watch The Odyssey - the hero's journey. Yeah, that's where the hero's journey came from. Odysseus is THE hero. Practically every fiction movie ever made is based on the hero's journey (even a lot of non-fiction movies use the structure). Same goes for most books. And once you know that, you can't help but map other movies using The Odyssey. One of my favorite examples of this is my wife's breakdown of The Natural. It has a hero, a hero lost for many years, a cyclops, suitors trying to usurp a king, sirens, and more. As I've said in other reviews, my wife is a genius.

The other reason you should watch The Odyssey is...every other film reason that exists. You want great characters and character development? All of the above, plus John Leguizamo (Eumaeus), Lupita Nyong'o (Helen of Troy), Samantha Morton (Circe), Jon Bernthal (Menelaus), Himesh Patel (Eurylochus), Zendaya (Athena), and Elliot Page (Sinon). Do you like great visuals? Nolan blends CGI with practical effects (filming exclusively with IMAX cameras) to perfection. And the way he presents such things as Charybdis, the Cyclops, the Laestrygonians, the Trojan Horse, the underworld, and even Agamemnon (Bennie Safdie) is the sweetest of eye candy. I could go on about the sound, the costumes, the cinematography, the pacing, the everything else that makes this movie so very, very fantastic. But words can't do it full justice. Not even in Greek dactylic hexameter.

Rating: Worth twice the cost of IMAX tickets and you should see it at least twice.

Friday, July 17, 2026

“Gail Daughtry and the Celebrity Sex Pass” - This is what they mean by a crime against film.

The concept of the celebrity sex pass was popularized on an episode of Friends. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, a celebrity sex pass is a list of celebrities you’re allowed to have sex with, should the opportunity arise, and your significant other isn’t allowed to get mad about it. It works as a two-minute joke in a television episode because it was written by people who have incredible senses of humor. It does not work as a ninety-minute gag and homage to The Wizard of Oz – end of sentence. After slogging through Gail Daughtry and the Celebrity Sex Pass, I’m quite certain that the writers haven’t the faintest idea what comedy is.

When I say slogging through, I mean it took me three sittings to force myself to watch the full movie. My wife quit twenty minutes into the film because she is a lot smarter than I am. And I didn’t sit through it out of a sense of duty as a film critic. Don’t be absurd. I have no issues quitting on movies that I am watching from the comfort of my own couch. I stopped watching Uncut Gems after forty-five minutes of Adam Sandler screaming his lines at me. No...I white-knuckled through Gail Daughtry for two reasons. One, to see how much worse it could get after my wife left the room. Two, to see if Gail succeeds in her quest to fuck Jon Hamm.

Oh right, I haven’t told you the actual plot of Gail Daughtry. Gail (Zoey Deutch) catches her fiance having sex with Jennifer Aniston, so she goes to Hollywood to find Jon Hamm and have sex with him. It’s possible there’s a comedy in there somewhere, but I’m fairly certain the filmmakers have no idea what funny looks or sounds like. Nothing else can explain why they decided to remake The Wizard of Oz by teabagging it.

It isn’t obvious at first that they are doing The Wizard of Oz. Gail is an obnoxiously upbeat hairdresser about to marry her high school sweetheart, Tom Soursap McNoodleman (Micheal Cassidy). That’s seriously his name and we don’t even learn it until the end of the movie, probably because it’s really, really stupid. And the film is narrated by Gail’s mailman (Fred Melamed). Maybe your mailman is hilarious, but I’m pretty sure mailmen are famously not funny.

Speaking of forcing something that isn’t funny, the setup itself is as funny as starving children. Tom’s celebrity sex pass isn’t even Jennifer Aniston, it’s Tilda Swinton. But after they attend a book signing by Aniston, Tom switches his pass to Aniston. Then, he immediately realizes he left his coat and keys in the bookstore, tells Gail he’ll be right back, goes back into the bookstore and doesn’t come back after more than an hour. It’s funny because he abandoned Gail in a parking lot and she just waits there for him. Get it?

After catching Tom and Jennifer literally mid-thrust (and standing there as they justify it during a really cringy explanation), Gail jets off to Hollywood from her little rural Kansas town, accompanied by her friend and coworker Otto (Miles Gutierrez-Riley). Yes, Kansas. And her name is Gail. And his name is an anagram of Toto. Trust me, the joke is not for us, it’s on us.

But again, the Oz thing isn’t actually that obvious in the moment. Those things I just mentioned didn’t click with me until much later in the movie or completely after it. When Gail arrives in Hollywood, she accidentally switches identical briefcases with some Italian mobsters at the airport. When the switch is discovered, wildly over-the-top mob boss Ludovica (Sabrina Impacciatore) screams at her henchmen (led by Joe Lo Truglio) to retrieve it. Since the case isn’t red, it’s tough to recognize the ruby slippers analogy. Same goes for the psychic Gail and Otto stop to see, this film’s Glinda the good witch. In fact, for at least half of the movie, it just comes off like a really dumb Nickelodeon Channel movie for teens, complete with some of the worst acting you’ve seen since Sharknado! or everything on The Hallmark Channel. And definitely less funny.

It isn’t until Gail and her band of misfits (of course she picks up a band of misfits along the way; Ben Wang, Ken Marino, John Slattery) show up at Jon Hamm’s room at the Chateau Marmont that I caught onto the Oz gag. Hamm has a doorman that refuses to let the group in, but promises to if they complete a task for Hamm. No, the task doesn’t matter in the slightest and, no, it’s not remotely funny. Just like every single cameo in the film (there are many), every single attempt at a joke, every single attempted riff on The Wizard of Oz. Everything about this movie is the opposite of humor. I don’t know what word means the opposite of humor because that part of my brain killed itself as it absorbed the final scenes of the movie.

Was it worth it for me to grit out this movie? Not even a tiny bit. My two reasons were definitely answered, but neither of the answers were satisfying. And I still haven’t figured out the reason for the mailman. Probably because my brain is dead now.

Rating: Ask for all of your money back, double if you powered through the entire film.