Alex Harrison

Turning a historical mystery into a feature-length exploration of motive proves a compelling decision, especially when combined with Kurosawa's mastery of form. I did, however, respond to it more intellectually than emotionally. There are moments of performance or framing, usually accompanied by stillness, that break through, but for whatever reason – perhaps a consequence of the murder-mystery framework – I experienced the film at some degree of a remove.

Matt Johnson, whose Blackberry flew impressively close to the Social Network sun in 2023, has once again taken true-story source material and made a real movie. It works on its own terms, with or without the halo of its subject's career. It's actually about something. And it's a delight to watch.

72 Hours scores some laughs by virtue of the comedic talent of its cast, but the gonzo plotting feels weightless without anything to really invest in. Add to that the hit-and-miss nature of the jokes, and you get a film that's mostly a wasted opportunity.

Though some sequences seem to fly by, The Odyssey isn't one of those three-hour movies you'd swear was half its length. It takes its time, and you feel it. But rather than signaling any issues with pacing – editor Jennifer Lame, an Oscar-winner for Oppenheimer, has once again done exquisite work – this is one of the film's greatest strengths. Cutting out the middleman of Homer's oral narrator, Nolan has brought us very close to these characters, immersing us as much as possible in their experience. In doing so, he has managed to capture the story's full scope. Odysseus' journey conveys the weight of its arduous years. The film's conclusion, told with a steady, patient hand, feels like a payoff 20 years in the making.

Aside from the raunchy or gross-out set pieces, which are hit-and-miss, the movie rides the same few jokes all the way to their natural conclusions, before then trying to tap into the "heart" at the center of its story and completely throwing off its tone. In the end, I think I spent less time laughing than I did waiting for the film to be over.

I have no doubt this is what The Get Out co-writer and director Derrick Borte thought he was making – considering he references Tarantino at one point, I'd guess Jackie Brown was more specifically the guiding light. But even with leading man Russell Crowe, who is the only member of this solid cast who strikes the right tone, this film just can't get there. In addition to dialogue that isn't nearly strong enough to conjure the quirky specificity that powers the best examples of this kind of movie, the rhythm of its delivery is off in a way that just isn't possible to fully recover from.

Lucky Strike is simultaneously so familiar and so off that it sometimes feels like WW2 movie cosplay. While watching, I thought often about how that is essentially what all period filmmaking is – anyone who's ever seen an unofficial set photo will know what I'm talking about – but whatever movie magic that usually gets us to suspend our disbelief is just totally absent here. Aside from the intellectual curiosity of trying to diagnose that, the viewing experience is fairly dull.

When I reviewed Enys Men for ScreenRant in 2023, I was awed by the use of form on display, but wished for more of a narrative backbone to hold all that atmosphere together. Rose of Nevada, Jenkin's latest film, supplies it. The haunted, slippery feeling of his movies is very effective when applied to a supernatural mystery, and that sense of full understanding being just out of reach becomes something pulling you further in, rather than pushing you out. For something so deliberately paced, I found it completely gripping.

Burns is going for smooth entertainment here, and the light tone keeps Finnegan's Foursome from diving into some of the emotional territory it could have. He's also conceived this as a story about the brothers first and foremost, and the children function mostly as an extension of their drama, rather than a chance to explore a whole new set of relationships. One can only imagine what this script might've accomplished in the hands of a more ambitious dramatist. However, those frustrations are only really allowed to surface because Burns' film takes its time getting into a groove – once it does, it's easy to become swept up in its gentle current.

I have been more engaged trying to sift through my feelings about this movie after the fact than I was actually watching it. Sometimes, when it comes to art, that's just how it is, and I don't think I could convincingly say Jinsei is unsuccessful. But I don't think it's successful enough. Though it creates striking moments and leaves a lasting impact of some kind, Suzuki aims for a scope of storytelling that his film just doesn't achieve anywhere but on paper.