A Book A Week

Earlier this year, I discovered Adam Cesare's hit horror novel Clown in a Cornfield. I devoured it, impressed by the way Cesare blended classic slasher tropes with timely commentary on politics, grief, and the inevitability of progress. He subverted expectations by leaning into the familiar beats of the genre, only to twist them in surprising ways. I quickly tore through the two sequels and then found myself waiting impatiently for the film adaptation of the first book. When it finally arrived, I was both excited and apprehensive. Horror is one of my favorite genres, and I worried the movie might not do the book justice.

Kettle Springs is the kind of small Midwestern town that time forgot. The abandoned Baypen Corn Syrup Factory looms over sprawling cornfields, a monument to economic decline and the widening generational divide. The town’s faded mascot, Frendo—a grinning clown in a porkpie hat—still clings to rusting signs, a ghost of better days. The older generation clings just as tightly to the past, while the younger generation only wants out. For Quinn Maybrook (Katie Douglas) and her father, Dr. Glenn Maybrook (Aaron Abrams), Kettle Springs is meant to be a fresh start after the death of Quinn’s mother. But while her father embraces his new role as the town’s doctor, Quinn sees only a dead end, counting the days until graduation.

Those plans shatter when tensions in town boil over and a masked killer—dressed as Frendo—targets the local teens. Caught between an older generation bent on “restoring” Kettle Springs and a defiant group of kids led by Cole Hill (Carson MacCormac), Quinn is pulled into a fight for survival. As the bodies pile up, she’s forced to rely on unlikely allies to escape the nightmare playing out in the cornfields. In a town at war with itself, the only rule left is kill or be killed.

Director Eli Craig, best known for Tucker & Dale vs. Evil, brings Cesare’s writing to life with both genre reverence and a touch of comedic flair. Like the novel, the film feels both timeless and timely, capturing the book’s tone while drawing from the rich history of slasher cinema. The Kettle Springs on screen matched almost exactly what I’d pictured while reading. While there are a few deviations from the plot, the spirit of Cesare’s work remains intact. My only real sticking point was Katie Douglas as Quinn. Her delivery is so deadpan that it occasionally drifts into disinterest. Thankfully, the rest of the cast steps up, breathing energy into the story. Clown in a Cornfield isn’t the best horror movie I’ve ever seen, but as an adaptation of a strong horror novel, it more than delivers. With clever kills and a few smart subversions of expectations, it’s a slasher that earns its place alongside the book.

It’s been a while since I’ve done a Friday Flicks post here on the blog. Yes, I’m still watching plenty of movies, but I’ll admit that reviewing them on top of my weekly book coverage can be a bit much. Still, Conclave (2024) has been on my watchlist ever since I saw the trailer. When I found out it was based on a novel by Robert Harris, an author I’ve enjoyed in the past, I decided to read the book first.

I’m glad I did. The novel was a fantastic read, immersing me in the intrigue and tradition surrounding the election of a new pope. With Pope Francis's recent passing and a new conclave about to begin in real life, it felt like the perfect time to finally watch the film adaptation.

Edward Berger’s Conclave is a tense, cerebral thriller that pulls the curtain back on the secretive inner workings of the Vatican. The film immerses viewers in the centuries-old ritual of selecting a new pope following the sudden death of the Holy Father. Cardinal Lomeli (Ralph Fiennes), a man defined by his unwavering faith and moral conviction, is tasked with organizing the sacred proceedings. Though still mourning the loss of his mentor, Lomeli is bound by duty to shepherd the Church through this critical transition.

From the outset, it becomes clear that the conclave, intended to be a solemn, divinely inspired process, is just as vulnerable to earthly vices. Beneath the surface of reverence and ritual lie political machinations, long-held rivalries, and whispered ambitions. As 118 cardinals are locked inside the Vatican to cast their votes, Lomeli uncovers a shocking secret hidden in the late pope’s private correspondence—one with the potential not just to upend the outcome of the election, but to shake the very foundations of the Church itself.

Conclave is a masterful adaptation that faithfully brings its source material to life. Like the novel, the film challenges viewers to contemplate the fine line between divine duty and mortal failings. Ralph Fiennes delivers a quietly powerful performance as Cardinal Lomeli, a man torn between his spiritual obligations and the all-too-human flaws he observes within the Church’s highest ranks. Fiennes plays him with a calm intensity, grounding the film even as its stakes steadily escalate.

The supporting cast is equally impressive. John Lithgow, Stanley Tucci, and Isabella Rossellini all bring gravitas and nuance to their roles, elevating the ensemble. Director Edward Berger approaches the material with a measured, deliberate style, allowing the story’s ethical questions and political intrigue to unfold without flashy distraction. Stéphane Fontaine’s cinematography captures the grandeur and shadowed secrecy of the Vatican with stunning precision. At the same time, Academy Award-winner Volker Bertelmann’s somber score infuses the film with a haunting sense of weight and urgency.

Part political thriller, part spiritual meditation, Conclave is a layered and compelling viewing experience that lingers long after the final scene. As both a fan of the book and someone always on the lookout for smart, gripping cinema, I’m thrilled to say that this Friday Flicks pick more than lived up to expectations.

Author Percival Everett has built a career on writing sharp, satirical novels that delve into the complexities of race and identity without taking himself too seriously. His 2021 novel Trees, for instance, combines a gripping murder mystery with America’s tragic history of lynchings, all while finding humor in the absurdity of racism. More recently, he reimagined Mark Twain's classic Huck Finn story, giving agency to the enslaved side character James and retelling the narrative from his perspective. This approach isn't new for Everett; his 2001 novel Erasure showcases his longstanding commitment to these themes. Erasure has gained renewed attention with its adaptation into the Best Picture-nominated film American Fiction. The movie brings that story to life in a way that perfectly captures the tone of Evertt's brilliant writing. 

Thelonious "Monk" Ellison, played by Jeffery Wright, has carved out a respectable career as an author and writing professor in LA. Unfortunately, his novels, acclaimed by literary critics for their philosophical depth and references to Greek mythology, don't translate to commercial success. Monk's latest manuscript is repeatedly rejected, with the troubling feedback that his writing isn’t "Black enough."

Monk grapples with this criticism. How can an African American man write something that isn’t "Black enough?" It’s only when he attends a writing conference that he understands what the publishers mean. In stark contrast to his poorly attended panel, author Sintara Golden's interview about her bestseller We Lives in Da Ghetto is packed, with readers eagerly absorbing every word of her stereotypical narrative. Faced with his elderly mother's declining health and his own lack of sales, Monk pens My Pafology, a satirical novel mocking the clichés expected from Black writers—melodramatic plots, deadbeat dads, gang violence, and drugs. To his astonishment, the book sparks a bidding war. Now, Monk is torn between staying true to his professional principles or selling out to achieve the success he has always dreamed of.

Making his feature directorial debut, Cord Jefferson masterfully adapts Everett's novel, bringing the story to life with a blend of timeliness and emotional depth. The ensemble cast delivers authentic performances that draw viewers into the larger themes of the narrative, such as racism, classism, and the personal consequences of not staying true to oneself. The film balances humor and conflict with a few tear-jerking moments along the way. Its clever and unique conclusion is one of the most memorable endings I've seen in a long time. Overall, American Fiction entertains while subtly engaging your deeper thoughts, compelling you to confront the significant themes the characters navigate.

Actor and director Kenneth Branagh has reinvigorated the murder mystery genre with his acclaimed portrayal of Agatha Christie's renowned character, Hercule Poirot. His 2017 adaptation of Murder on the Orient Express offered a fresh perspective on Christie's most infamous tale, and the 2022 sequel, based on Death on the Nile, continued the success. It's no surprise that a third film in the Poirot series has been expedited. After recently reading the book Hallowe'en Party, the inspiration for the newest film, I was eager to see how Branagh would approach this story, which is notably less cinematic in nature.

Essentially, A Haunting in Venice can be viewed more as a movie "inspired by" Christie's writing than a faithful adaptation. The film retains little more than character names and a supernatural element from the novel it claims to be based on. Surprisingly, these liberties don't cause much concern, especially considering that Hallowe'en Party is a rather ordinary entry in Christie's repertoire. As one of her final works featuring her beloved protagonist, it fell short compared to some of her more celebrated pieces. Instead, Branagh and his team opt to place the film in the mysterious setting of Venice, a city that inherently lends itself to the grandeur and marvel suitable for the cinematic experience.

At the film's outset, Hercule Poirot, portrayed by the director Kenneth Branagh, relishes a tranquil retirement, channeling his sharp mind into pursuing the perfect breakfast eggs rather than solving murder mysteries. Despite persistent requests from those seeking his investigative prowess, he remains uninterested. The serenity of a quiet life suits him well. This changes, however, when he agrees to meet with Ariadne Oliver, an old friend and crime novelist played by the always-charming Tina Fey. Although no stranger to unraveling deceptions, she is confounded by Joyce Reynolds (Michelle Yeoh), a World War I army nurse turned medium. Motivated by curiosity or perhaps sheer pride, Poirot consents to attend a Halloween party and séance at the palazzo of the renowned opera singer Rowena Drake. What initially begins as an attempt to expose a charlatan swiftly transforms into a night of darkness and death. Once again, Poirot must deploy his intellect and deduction to unveil the identity of a ruthless killer before becoming their next victim.

A Haunting in Venice marks a significant departure from both its predecessors and the source material. While it differs significantly, the change proves beneficial. The music takes on a more subdued tone, and the cinematography adopts an angled and choppy approach, a departure from the sweeping visuals seen in other films. Introducing a potentially supernatural element adds a layer of dread and suspense, contributing to a unique atmosphere that works exceptionally well.  The film sustains a tension akin to razor wire throughout, making every moment count. The ensemble cast delivers performances filled with vigor, eliciting both support and suspicion from the audience. Despite its variance from the book, the film adeptly balances horror and mystery, offering a murder story that pays homage to Agatha Christie's tradition while adapting it for contemporary audiences.

During the ongoing Spooky Season, I've been diligently making my way through a list of eerie films that I've been wanting to watch. Among them is Mr. Harrigan's Phone, a Netflix movie adapted from one of Stephen King's short stories found in If It Bleeds. The story in question was a standout piece in the collection, so I held high expectations for its cinematic adaptation. With Ryan Murphy and Jason Blum as producers and John Lee Hancock as the director, it appeared to have the ideal team of filmmakers to do justice to the story.

The movie transports us back to the early 2000s, a period when technology was on the verge of reshaping the world as we knew it. Jaeden Martell, acclaimed for his role in another Stephen King adaptation, It, portrays the young Craig. In the film, Craig is still mourning the loss of his mother and doing his best to console his equally grieving father. Demonstrating remarkable dedication, he regularly reads at church services, where his performance captures the interest of another churchgoer, Mr. Harrigan. Portrayed by the formidable Donald Sutherland, Harrigan is a reclusive billionaire who becomes fascinated by Craig's reading skills. He hires the boy to come to his mansion each week and read classic novels to him. To express his gratitude, Harrigan occasionally surprises the boy with a scratch-off lottery ticket.

This routine continues for several years, with Craig advancing into high school. He has faced difficulties in making friends in his new environment and has unwittingly become the target of a bully. Seeking guidance on how to deal with his adversaries, Craig poses the question to Harrigan. In response, Harrigan ominously utters, "harshly."

Craig's life turns unexpectedly when he scratches off his latest lottery ticket, revealing a substantial prize of a few thousand dollars. Thrilled by his newfound wealth, he purchases two brand-new iPhones, one for himself and the other for Mr. Harrigan. Initially hesitant about the technology, Harrigan gradually recognizes its value in having real-time information at his fingertips. He becomes captivated by the device, diverting his attention away from the books Craig continues to read.

Then, one fateful day, upon arriving for their customary reading session, Craig discovers the lifeless body of Mr. Harrigan in the same chair where he always sat. Overwhelmed by shock and sorrow, he keeps Harrigan's iPhone as a lasting memento of their time together. During Harrigan's funeral, Craig discreetly places the phone in the casket alongside him.

Several days later, grappling with an intense sense of loss and yearning for his mentor and friend, Craig calls Harrigan's phone. As anticipated, the call is directed to voicemail. Yet, when he attempts texting, he is astonished to receive a response. Soon, Craig finds himself confiding his deepest thoughts to the deceased man. More disconcertingly, a series of mysterious events begin to unfold.

Stephen King's short story operates as a pertinent parable on the hazards of technology. In characteristic King style, he underscores this moral with hints of horror to drive his message home. The film adaptation explores comparable themes, but the necessity to elongate the brief tale into a full-length feature movie dilutes the narrative with extraneous elements. Martell and Sutherland's performances brim with sincerity and manage to capture the essence of the written characters. However, even their acting prowess cannot rescue the film from succumbing to its own excess. The story attempts to stretch both the coming-of-age facet and the supernatural elements in a manner that never effectively integrates them. Neither aspect is fully developed to its utmost potential. Instead, the result is a narrative that shares the same foundational elements as the source material but ultimately falls short of replicating the impact of the original text.

M. Night Shyamalan is a name synonymous with horror. His breakout directorial hit The Sixth Sense set the stage for an incredible run of original suspense films known for their trademark twist endings. In later years, the writer-director became infamous for a string of commercial and critical misfires that saw his stature in Hollywood diminish. Recently, he has shifted away from big studio productions, opting for self-financed films that harken back to the grassroots approach of his earlier, more successful works. When I first caught wind of Shyamalan's plans to adapt Paul Tremblay's terrifying novel, The Cabin at the End of the World, for the screen, I approached the news with a mix of cautious optimism. I enjoyed most of Shyamalan's films, including some of his less well-received ones, so I was eager to witness his interpretation of a novel that I held in such high regard.

The story centers around a family consisting of a gay couple, portrayed by Jonathan Groff and Ben Aldridge, and their adopted daughter, Wen. Seeking a peaceful vacation, the trio retreats to a remote cabin in the woods. While her fathers unwind on the cabin's back patio, young Wen keeps herself occupied by collecting grasshoppers in the front yard. She meticulously names and catalogs these creatures until she notices a large, imposing figure approaching the dirt road. This intimidating man, portrayed terrifyingly by Dave Bautista, introduces himself to Wen and cryptically explains that he and his companions require their help to save the world. At this moment, Wen's instincts signal the impending danger to her and her family, prompting her to flee and seek her parents' assistance.

It doesn't take long for the man and his three associates to capture the family and hold them hostage within the cabin. It's within the confines of this cabin that their true intentions are unveiled. The strangers believe they have been chosen to prevent an impending apocalypse, with the family playing a pivotal role in their mission. Confounded, terrified, and isolated from the outside world, the family must grapple with their beliefs and make a life-altering decision before it's too late.

Knock at the Cabin demonstrates Shyamalan's directorial prowess, successfully translating Tremblay's harrowing story into a gripping cinematic experience. Dave Bautista delivers a standout performance, skillfully oscillating between nuanced grief and menacing intimidation. His emotionally charged portrayal adds layers of tension, leaving viewers on the edge of their seats. Rupert Grint, renowned for his role in Harry Potter, also makes a striking appearance, showcasing his versatility in a raw and terrifying character that's a stark departure from his iconic role. The film earns its R rating through its graphic violence, as Shyamalan fearlessly captures the horrifying essence of Tremblay's premise. While the movie delves into moments of intense terror, it also balances the narrative with poignant character development, providing viewers with brief respites amid the suspense.

As in the novel, the film admirably presents a gay couple without sensationalism, portraying their relationship as authentically normal. Jonathan Groff and Ben Aldridge breathe life into their characters, crafting a genuine and relatable portrayal of this couple. Shyamalan opts for an ending distinct from the novel, which may be less contentious. Regardless of one's stance on the ending, the film masterfully explores themes of family, duty, and sacrifice within the framework of chilling horror. It stands as an excellent addition to any spooky season watchlist.

Representation matters. The presence of diverse and relatable characters in literature and media plays a crucial role in enabling individuals to embrace and accept their true selves. Casey McQuiston's debut novel, Red, White, & Royal Blue, achieved bestselling status, in part due to its significant representation within the LGBTQ+ community. When I initially read the book in 2019, I celebrated its diverse ensemble, the queer love story it portrayed, and its profound impact as a form of representation for LGBTQ+ individuals. When news broke that Amazon had acquired the rights to adapt this beloved story into a film, I greeted the news with a blend of optimism and caution. Could the filmmakers capture the book's magic and do justice to its representation?

The film faithfully adheres to the core plot of the novel. Alex Claremont-Diaz, portrayed by Taylor Zakhar Perez, holds the esteemed position of First Son in the United States. His mother, performed by a Texas-drawled Uma Thurman, is the first woman to occupy the highest office in the nation. The narrative begins with Alex's intense rivalry with Prince Henry, played by Nicholas Galitzine, the younger member of the British royal family. Their disruptive behavior at the wedding of the Prince's elder brother, who is also the future king, threatens to spark a major international incident. They are compelled to fabricate a close friendship and embark on a goodwill visit to the United Kingdom to avert this crisis.

As the two navigate the complexities of this fabricated friendship, their rivalry gradually transforms into a genuine and profound connection, eventually blossoming into a romantic relationship. However, their path is fraught with challenges, especially the imperative to conceal their love amidst the relentless public scrutiny accompanying their high-profile lives. Royal traditions bind Henry, and Alex strives to uphold a carefully cultivated image during his mother's contentious re-election campaign. As their love for each other deepens, they must continue to work diligently to keep it hidden from the public eye.

The film adaptation of Red, White, & Royal Blue is about as good as one might expect from a straight-to-streaming adaptation. While the novel's core plot remains intact, the storyline has noticeable omissions. Some characters are condensed into one, and certain changes alter the story's impact compared to the book. This is understandable, given the time constraints of the film medium, but it does make the narrative feel forced compared to the original. The film includes some wide shots where the actors are clearly in front of green screens, and the backgrounds are obviously computer-generated landscapes. While this choice didn't significantly affect the movie, it gave it a simpler aesthetic reminiscent of productions you might find on the Disney Channel. Each time this occurred, I wished the shots had simply been omitted. 

The film excels in portraying the chemistry and charisma of the two lead actors. The spark between Alex and Henry, present in the book, is brought to life authentically and keeps viewers invested in the film. The supporting cast also delivers fantastic performances, fully committing to their roles. While it may not be the best movie of the year, it effectively represents the themes that resonated with many readers of the novel. Ultimately, this representation strikes a chord with audiences, and the film will likely have a similar impact.

After nearly a year, my "Friday Flicks" feature returns to review a movie on the blog. While my trips to the movie theater have become less frequent, I still watch a fair share of films, particularly adaptations of popular novels. While browsing through Netflix, I recently stumbled upon "The Wonder," a 2022 film based on Emma Donoghue's novel of the same title. Having been captivated by the book in 2018, I was intrigued to see how it translated to the screen, especially given that the author was involved as one of the screenwriters. With my curiosity piqued, I decided to dive into the adaptation.

The film commences unconventionally, breaking the fourth wall by introducing us to a modern-day soundstage. An off-camera narrator emphasizes the significance of stories, asserting that "we are nothing without stories." This initial setup aims to establish the narrative we are about to witness. Transitioning from the soundstage to an 1862 setting in post-Great Famine Ireland, the film's camera guides us seamlessly into the historical context, setting the stage for the unfolding story.

In the film, Florence Pugh takes on the role of Lib Wright, an English nurse sent to a remote Irish village. Her mission is to closely monitor Anna O'Donnell, portrayed by Kíla Lord Cassidy, a young girl whom her family claims has not eaten for an astonishing four months, subsisting solely on what they believe to be "manna from heaven." Lib is joined in her task by Sister Michael, a nun, and together, they are entrusted to provide independent reports to a council of local dignitaries. Guided by a firm belief in science and rationality, Lib is determined to uncover the O'Donnells as frauds.

The film's central mystery revolves around Anna, a child who seems steadfast in her convictions. Lib grapples with how Anna, who appears resolute in her claims, could orchestrate such a complex deception. As Lib delves deeper into the enigma surrounding Anna and her family, this inquiry becomes the heart of this story. 

Director Sebastián Lelio's interpretation of "The Wonder" is a visual masterpiece. Each frame is meticulously crafted with the precision of an artist, beautifully capturing the cool Irish atmosphere. Collaborating with the novel's author on the screenplay ensures a faithful representation of the book's text, bringing the words vividly to life on the screen.

The narrative is elevated by the nuanced performances of the entire cast, with Florence Pugh standing out through her subtle portrayal of a woman torn between reason and faith. This collective effort results in a viewing experience that is quietly cerebral. Even as the film builds towards a dramatic climax, everything remains understated, allowing the characters and their story the space to breathe. It may be a slow burn, but it enriches the narrative with captivating subtext. In an era where many films aim to attract audiences through grand spectacles, "The Wonder" captivates with its quiet confidence in portraying the inner turmoil of its characters. This sets it apart as a distinct cinematic experience that is truly fascinating to witness.

The Black Phone has been one of my most anticipated films of the year since I first heard it was being made. Director Scott Derrickson and his screenwriting partner C. Robert Cargill, of Sinister and Doctor Strange fame, have adapted Joe Hill's short story of the same name into a supernatural horror film that begs to be seen on the big screen. This marked the first time I've gone to see a scary movie in the theater since before the pandemic. I didn't realize how much I missed the communal experience of jumping and laughing together at all the right moments. There's something about being packed together into a theater, communally experiencing a story, that just can't be beaten. 

The film pretty faithfully follows the short story that it's based upon while naturally fleshing out the characters and scenarios into a more well-rounded length. Young Finney (Mason Thames) has watched his community scramble as local children go missing. The Grabber, as the kidnapper has become known, has lured multiple boys into his van. The kids are never seen again. Finney struggles with bullying at school and an abusive, alcoholic father at home. He takes refuge in his sister Gwen (played by a scene-stealing Madeleine McGraw) who has a no-nonsense outlook on life and isn't afraid to fight the kids who pick on her brother. One day as Finney walks home from school, he encounters his worst fear, a black van filled with black balloons and a masked man who has decided to make the boy his next victim. 

When Finney awakens from a chemical-induced haze, he finds himself in a sparse basement, alone save for the very man who put him here. The Grabber (a devilishly demented Ethan Hawke) stares back, his eyes peeking from behind a ghoulish rubber mask. The Grabber promises Finney that he means no harm and that the entire ordeal will be over soon. He disappears into the house above leaving the boy on the bare mattress to contemplate his predicament. Finney is distracted from his own thoughts by the ringing of the antique black phone on the wall next to him. The phone shouldn't be ringing. The cable connecting it to the wall is cut, making the reality he is witnessing impossible. He answers, but no one is there. Little does Finney know that this phone will be the key to him making it out alive. 

I hadn't read Joe Hill's short story since I first encountered it as part of his collection 20th Century Ghost Stories. My reading of it predates the existence of my blog, so it has been well over 10 years. As I watched The Black Phone, I was struck by just how different this is from other horror movies. Yes, there are plenty of scares and moments that are genuinely disturbing, but the filmmakers never spook for the sake of being spooky. Instead, they have drawn authentic characters who are buoyed by clever writing and fantastic performances by a young cast. The result is a film that draws you in by showing its heart. I couldn't help but empathize with the kids, making it easy to root for them to get out of a terrible predicament. Hawkes's performance as the main villain is nothing short of chilling. He imbues The Grabber with a flair of unpredictability and emotional heft that it is really hard to make heads or tails of his intent. This only adds to the suspense. The plot is methodically constructed, though you don't realize it until the big payoff at the end. The Black Phone is everything I want in a movie, especially an adaptation of a short story. There's a great plot, endearing characters, and a terrifying villain, all coming together to make a thoroughly enjoyable film. 

Earlier this year I faced my fears and finally tackled the literary behemoth that is Frank Herbert's Dune. The book is a sprawling tale of a messiah-like figure who rises among battling kingdoms across the planets. While I appreciated the work for what it was, especially within the context of the time it was written, I can't say that I actually enjoyed reading it. Countless characters, planets, and political slights in the first part of the work had me struggling to keep everything straight in my mind. Reading it became such a chore that I was happier to just be finished with it than I was with anything that actually happened in the book. 

It was with a conflicted trepidation, then, that I approached Denis Villeneuve's ambitious adaptation of Dune. Despite my misgivings of the novel, I've long been a fan of Villeneuve's films. If anyone could have a viable chance at successfully bringing the "unfilmable" novel to the big screen, the director of the likes of Sicario, Arrival, and Blade Runner 2049 seemed like a pretty good choice. Still, there's a reason most filmmakers have been wary of touching Dune. You need only look at David Lynch's dismal 1984 adaptation as a warning of just exactly how wrong this entire undertaking could go. The sheer scope of the story made it an inaccessible read to me, so I feared this latest attempt to film the work would do the same. 

The film opens with wide shots of the desert planet Arrakis. Images of the expansive world flash across the screen as Hans Zimmer's otherworldly score undulates beneath. We are instantly transported to the future, the year 10191 to be exact. The control of the planet and the economically vital 'spice' that is harvested from it are being transferred from one ruling race to another. Young Paul Atreides's (Timothee Chalamat) family is on the receiving end of this gift. From the start, he is being groomed to one day take the mantle from his father, Duke Leto Atreides (Oscar Isaacs). Paul's royalty stems from both his father and mother's bloodlines and an early scene of him being tested for his worth as a ruler perfectly captures the look and feel of Herbert's work. As you can imagine, holding the power over spice, the drug-like resource of this world comes with immense wealth and influence. As such, other families strive to strip the Atreides clan of their power. It is this desire that drives the conflict and action of the film. 

From the start, Villeneuve succeeds where other filmmakers and arguably Herbert himself could not. The opening portion of the film perfectly sets the stage of the world, the key players, and the conflict that is about to unfold in a way that is both thorough and accessible. I'd argue that even the most casual of viewers would be able to come into the film blind and leave with a solid understanding of what happened. In an adaptation of work as rich as Dune, that's no small feat. Villeneuve and co-writers Eric Roth and Jon Spaihts smartly opted to adapt only the first half of Herbert's novel, giving the story room to breathe and unfold at a pace that perfectly suits the material. The movie is anchored by breathtaking cinematography, a rattling score, and performances from an ensemble cast who each brought some of their best work to the table. The 156-minute runtime flies by, all leading to a logical stopping point that lines up just before the halfway point of the novel. Dune Part 2 has already been announced for the fall of 2023. After the success of this one, I can't wait to see it. 

 

If it feels like it has been a long time since I last did a Friday Flicks review, that's because it has been. I've always been a fan of going to see a movie in the theater, but movie theaters have become another on the long list of casualties of COVID-19. Streaming services provide a plethora of content, but something about curling up on the couch with a bowl of microwave popcorn just isn't the same. Still, I'd be lying if I said I haven't enjoyed all the extra time catching up on movies that I missed in the theater. One recent offering is Where'd You Go, Bernadette, an adaptation of Maria Semple's popular novel of the same name. With an all-star cast and helmed by acclaimed director Richard Linklater, I knew the movie had the potential to be a worthy version of the bestselling book.

Cate Blanchett stars as the titular Bernadette, a quirky and creative former architect who traded the art world for the suburban life as a mother. Her husband Elgin, played by Billy Crudup, is a genius in his own right, heading up an innovative arm of a large technology company. While Elgin works, Bernadette is responsible for the majority of the activities that come with raising their fifteen-year-old daughter Bee. Bernadette is far from a conventional mother. She largely stays in the family's dilapidated estate and relies upon a personal assistant in India to take care of any shopping or planning needs. Her use of assistant Manjula takes on new heights as Bernadette prepares for a trip to Antarctica that was promised to Bee. She is extremely apprehensive about this trip, but her love for her daughter outweighs her anxiety.

The nuclear family of Elgin, Bernadette, and Bee seems to function just fine. The threesome is perfectly content with their unconventional way of life, but their neighbors have other ideas about the peculiar family. Kristen Wig gives a scene-stealing performance as Bernadette's neighbor and arch-nemesis Audrey Griffin. Audrey is essentially the antithesis to everything Bernadette is. Audrey and the other neighbors begin to pressure Elgin to react to Bernadettes idiosyncrasies. Elgin has to admit that things are starting to get out of hand. Things come to a head when Elgin attempts to stage an intervention with both a doctor and an FBI agent. Bernadette flees the scene, leaving Elgin and Bee to try to piece together the pieces of Bernadette's life, find her, and bring her back home.

I had every intention of seeing this film in theaters late last summer. Negative reviews and a poor showing at the box office meant that it only played in most cinemas for a couple of weeks. Thankfully, I was able to find it on Hulu. After watching it for myself, I really don't understand the negative reaction. I found Where'd You Go, Bernadette to be a pretty faithful adaptation of the novel. I even had a stronger emotional connection to the characters in the film than I did in the book. Blanchett relishes in all of the quirks of her character while never taking her too far away from Bernadette's emotional core. The film provides a more nuanced approach to the novel's themes of balancing personal and professional obligations while navigating the delicate complexities of family relationships. This is something that I was really missing when I read the novel, so I was happy to see Linklater explore it more in the film. There's nothing flashy or showy about this movie, which is why I think it was overshadowed at the summer box office. Instead, Where'd You Go, Bernadette is an intimate character study grounded by stellar performances, the kind of film that will leave you dazzled by the emotional connection you feel through the entire time you watch it.

I love a good horror movie. There’s something fun about getting sucked into the suspense of a spooky story that plays with your imagination and emotion. No one has had more success in crafting terrifying tales than Stephen King. The author’s books have become an ever-giving well of inspiration to countless movie adaptations. While film versions of King’s books are too numerous to list, the most recent success was the 2017 retelling of It. The movie played on the nostalgia of those who read the book and watched the 90’s mini-series and introduced the nightmare of Pennywise the Clown to a whole new generation. It focused on the Losers Club as children, presenting only half of King’s novel on the screen. Now, director Andy Muschietti concludes the story by bringing the adult losers to life in It Chapter Two.

This movie is a continuation of the first film, so you’ll definitely want to watch it before venturing into this one. Chapter Two picks up 27 years after the first film. The losers are all grown up and living their separate lives away from Derry. Most have forgotten the details of the year they faced a horror that banded them together and forced them to vow to return if it ever happened again. Only Mike Hanlon remains in the town, keeping watch for the cyclical evil of Pennywise to resurface. When a man witnesses his boyfriend being murdered by a clown outside of the Derry fair, Mike is certain the time has come. It is time for the Losers Club to come back to Derry and fight It again.

It Chapter Two sees Stephen King’s story fulfilled in a way that should leave both diehard fans of the novel and casual fans of the first film completely satisfied. At nearly three hours long, the movie manages to fit in most of the plot details from the novel while never feeling bloated or overlong. This sequel sees the filmmakers take the story into a much darker place in terms of both scares and tone. At first, I was a little thrown off by this change in tone, but I’ve come to appreciate the motivation behind it. Gone is the childlike innocence of the first film. Instead, the losers are adults forced to reconcile their pasts and face the horrors of a long-forgotten threat.

The adult losers have been perfectly cast with James McAvoy and Jessica Chastain both bringing an introspective layer of dread to the grown-up Bill and Beverly. Bill Hader, who plays the adult version of Finn Wolfhard’s Richie, shines above the pack with one of the best performances of his career. He manages to subtly balance the humor of his character with the harsh realization that his childhood insecurities are still haunting him. Bill Skarsgård is more terrifying than ever as Pennywise the Clown. Tim Curry’s take on the character still scares the heck out of me, but Skarsgård has more than made this version of the monster his own.

Overall It Chapter Two does everything it sets out to do as a satisfying conclusion to the story that the first film began. It isn’t as endearing as its predecessor, but I don’t think it was ever intended to be. This is a lengthy, imaginative, and mostly faithful adaptation of a behemoth of a novel. Amongst the other big blockbuster films, It Chapter Two dares to try something different. This isn’t another superhero movie. This is an ode to all things horror, a victory lap for a filmmaking team that managed to adapt a challenging novel into a smash hit. I loved every second of these two movies and highly recommend them.

Over the last several years, horror movies have seen a resurgence in the public eye. Series like The Conjuring films have proven to be both critical and commercial smashes at the box office. Other horror films, like Get Out and Us from Jordan Peele, have added a newfound sense of prestige to the genre. If you're a studio looking to make a movie that isn't a superhero film, horror is a pretty safe bet. It should come as no surprise then that many filmmakers are turning to Stephen King as a tried and true source for terrifying stories that the public loves. King has sold millions of copies of his novels and adaptations of his works have proven reliable box office draws for over 30 years. When I heard that a remake of Pet Sematary was releasing, I was excited to relive King's story once again.

Like the novel it is based upon, this latest film iteration follows the story of the Creed family. Dr. Louis Creed(Jason Clarke) and his wife Rachel(Amy Seimetz have brought their two kids from the fast-paced life in Boston to the more relaxed town of Ludlow, Maine. Louis is excited to take on the role of the campus Doctor for the local university. He hopes that more stable hours will give him more time to spend with his family on their new rural home. Directors Kevin Kolsch and Dennis Widmyer interrupt the idyllic setting with the jolt of a large tanker truck blasting along the road next to the Creed home. As the family eagerly brushes off the interruption of the truck in favor of exploring their new home, the audience is filled with the dread of the inevitable events to come.

Things immediately don't go as planned when Louis is unable to save a student from a gruesome accident. He's haunted by this death, seeing the deceased student in his dreams. Through a flashback that is one of the more terrifying moments in the film, we see how Rachel's childhood family trauma has scarred her and left her unwilling to discuss the topic of death. When the Creed's cat is killed by one of those fast-moving tankers, Louis is determined to keep the death a secret from his daughter. He turns to his elderly neighbor Jud, played here by an excellent John Lithgow, to dispose of the corpse. Jud leads Louis beyond the borders of the old Pet Sematary that lies on their property to the far off remains of an ancient burial ground. Little do they know that this simple task dooms their fate to be full of unimaginable horrors.

While much of this new Pet Sematary is quite faithful to both King's novel and the original film adaptation, it struggles to breathe new life into the story. As I sat watching, I found myself feeling as if the narrative was dragging while simultaneously skipping past important plot points. It was as if the filmmakers were so eager to get to the "spooky" parts that they didn't give enough time for their characters to reflect on all the crazy stuff that had just happened. Tethered by a script that doesn't give them room to soar, the actors weren't able to elevate their characters into believable and empathetic people. When some of them inevitably came back as undead versions of themselves, it was hard to differentiate between the two. In the end, Pet Sematary is one of those remakes that simply doesn't have a good reason to exist. While I didn't hate it, I can't say that I really enjoyed it either. It was an exercise in redundancy. Before filmmakers rush to readapt any other King stories, maybe they should remember that "sometimes dead is better."

Released in 2005, author Steig Larsson's The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo became an internationally best-selling novel that launched a franchise that still excites readers to this day. The original trilogy of books quickly inspired a Swedish film adaptation. Hollywood quickly took notice and hired acclaimed director David Fincher to helm an American remake of the first film. Despite solid reviews and a breakout performance by Rooney Mara as Lisbeth Salander, adaptations of the rest of the novels never materialized.

Fast-forward to today and the release of The Girl in the Spider's Web. The movie is based upon the fourth book in the series, the first to be authored by David Lagercrantz following Larsson's death. It has been described as both a sequel and "soft reboot" to Fincher's 2011 film. With a completely new cast and director, I wasn't really sure what to expect. Still, I enjoyed the novel enough to give this new version a fair shot.

After a flashback to Salander's childhood and an opening credits that rivals some of the best from the James Bond franchise, we immediately are given a glimpse at what Salander has been up to all these years. Claire Foy, who takes over the role from Mara, immediately shows she's not playing around. We see her discipline a man who regularly beat his wife. She hangs him from the ceiling, transfers all of his money to his wife, and tasers him. It seems the same kind of justice that Salander regularly doled out in the earlier books and movies is still commonplace.

The movie soon mirrors the plot of the novel as Salander is tasked with hacking into the American NSA to retrieve a file with cataclysmic stakes. The file has the potential to give a single user the control of the world's complete nuclear arsenal. Its creator, Frans Balder, has realized that no one should have this kind of power. Now Salander must steal it and protect it and its creator at all costs.

It is hard to judge The Girl in the Spider's Web purely on its own merit. The whole time I was watching it, I kept comparing it to the movies that have come before it. Fair or not, this latest adaptation will forever be woven into the fold with the rest of the books and films. Director Fede Alvarez, best known for his breakout hit Don't Breathe, directs the action beats in a way that is both exciting and easy to follow. Like the novel that it is based on, the film focuses more of its attention on Foy's Salander than Mikael Blomkvist, played here by Sverrir Gudnason. The movie assumes the audience will have some familiarity with the stories that have preceded it, even referencing events from the two novels that have yet to receive American adaptations.

My afternoon showing of the film was sold out, giving me hope that more movies will follow this one. While I'm not sure I liked The Girl in the Spider's Web as much as I liked Fincher's take on Dragon Tattoo, I wouldn't mind seeing more from this cast and crew. The film is not as meticulously composed as Fincher's version,  but Alvarez brings a grit, modernity, and suspense that can't be denied. There are two previous novels by Larsson and a new one by Lagercrantz, so the potential for a sequel is definitely there. Salander's character is even more relevant today with the rise of the #MeToo movement, so I could easily see more of these movies making a wave in the future.

Much will be made about the financial success of director Jon M. Chu's film Crazy Rich Asians out in wide release today. Based upon Kevin Kwan's wildly popular novel, the film marks one of the first large studio releases to feature an Asian cast. In 2018 this shouldn't be such a big deal, but the fact that most articles about the film mention this means that for better or worse, Warner Bros. has a lot riding on Crazy Rich Asians. I enjoyed the novel and got enough laughs out of it, that I decided to see what the film adaptation had to offer.

Like the book, the film follows NYU professor Rachel Chu (Constance Wu) as she follows her boyfriend Nick Young (Henry Golding) home to Singapore. One of Nick's best friends is getting married, so this is the perfect opportunity for Rachel to see the place he grew up. Nick has always been pretty quiet about his family, so Rachel isn't sure what to expect. She grows suspicious of him the moment they board their private first class suite on the plane, an extravagance Rachel has never even dreamed of. Soon Nick reveals a huge secret about his family. They are crazy rich!

Before the plane even leaves the tarmac, the news of Nick's mysterious new girlfriend reaches his mother played by Michelle Yeoh. Eleanor Young is not impressed with Rachel. Nick may think he's found "the one", but mothers know best. Rachel is American born from a single mother and has no financial or social stature to speak of. Eleanor will not stand by while her son's emotions and bank account are taken advantage of. She has to stop this relationship.

I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed Crazy Rich Asians. Chu's film improves upon the novel by making the characters more emotionally rounded and allowing the themes of culture and family to weave into the comedy. Similar to the way that My Big Fat Greek Wedding bridged Greek culture into universally relatable themes, Crazy Rich Asians finds a perfect balance in highlighting the intricacies of its own unique culture while crafting an emotionally satisfying romantic comedy that should appeal to the masses. Unlike the novel, the film ends with a true conclusion that will leave you wanting more from these remarkable characters. I can't predict what the box office results will be, but I can say without a doubt that I thoroughly enjoyed Crazy Rich Asians. 

Ernest Cline's Ready Player One rocked the literary world with a killer combination of 80's pop culture references, relatable characters, and a clever adventure story. The novel had such a broad appeal that a movie version was inevitable. Enter Stephen Spielberg, a director who built his career making the kinds of films that Cline's novel holds in such a high regard. Despite the status of cultural icon, choosing Spielberg to direct a big-budget sci-fi/action movie was a seemingly risky idea. He may have built his career on the epic scale movies that Ready Player One was destined to become, but he has focused more on smaller budget, historical films over the last ten years. Still, if anyone was up to the task of making Ready Player One into a hit, Spielberg was still a pretty safe bet.

Like the book, Ready Player One revolves around Wade Watt's journey through the Oasis to capture Halliday's Easter Egg. It is the 2040's and Watts is living in the slummy stacks, a towering collection of run-down mobile homes. At this point in history, man has explored every piece of earth and nearly depleted all of the natural resources. People largely take refuge in The Oasis, a virtual world that was crafted and governed by the genius James Halliday. When Halliday dies, he reveals that an easter egg has been hidden within the codes of his world. The finder of the egg will take complete control of The Oasis.

Beyond that premise, the book and film version of this story take very different directions. While both stories see the characters facing three challenges to ultimately reach the egg, the book and movie challenges are completely different. In the novel, the challenge are more about the mind than physical acts. Because film is a visual medium, Spielberg elects to make his challenges involve physical tasks and visually unique settings. Smartly, the film broadens its appeal by making references that are more widely known than the specific video game and Dungeons and Dragon lore. To be fair, keen eyed viewers will still spot several references that were mentioned in the novel, but there are more nods to different pop culture icons that there were in the book.

I'm usually not a fan of movies that stray too far from the book, but Ready Player One ends up being an exception to that rule. With Cline co-writing the screenplay, the film maintains the spirit of the novel while offering a fun and visually dazzling experience. For his part, Spielberg proves doubters that he still has the ability to make the kind of movies that have been missing from his filmography for the past 10 years. I'm happy that I can now enjoy both the movie and book for the wonderful and unique pieces of pop art that they both are.

Simon is a normal teenage boy. He is in the midst of his senior year of high school. His parents were high school sweethearts who married and started a family. He's the older brother to Nora a precocious youngster whose obsession with the show Chopped has turned her into a budding chef. Each morning Simon drives his used car to pick up his best friends before heading to class. Life is completely normal. But Simon has one huge secret. Simon is gay.

Through a post to a school message board, Simon discovers another student (Blue) is also harboring the secret of their sexuality. The two begin emailing each other anonymously and start to fall for each other. One day, Simon makes a fatal mistake by leaving his email logged in on one of the school computers. Another student sees the messages and blackmails Simon.

Forced to face the reality of others learning his secret, Simon follows along with the blackmailer's demands. Along the way, he turns to Blue for support and starts to come to terms with accepting himself. If Blue can accept Simon for who he is, maybe everyone else will be able to too.

Based upon the novel Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli, Love, Simon is a brilliant coming of age story of love, friendship, and acceptance. The mix of comedy, romance, and drama reminded me of many of the John Hughes films from the 1980's. Director Greg Berlanti frames the story in a way that is both extremely topical and classically timeless. Being one of the first mainstream Hollywood movies to touch on coming out places a ton of pressure on the film to get it right, but Love, Simon shoulders that responsibility with grace, humor, and thoughtfulness. The film's message of acceptance and compassion is important for all audiences, especially families.

Earlier this year, I read Agatha Christie's famed Murder on the Orient Express. It was easy to see why Christie's novel has been a mainstay among mystery fans since it was published. Essentially a locked room mystery, the novel follows investigator Hercule Poirot's inquiry into the death of a man on the train. When I heard that Kenneth Branagh would both direct a film adaptation and portray the famed detective, I was eager to see this modern telling of the classic tale.

The film opens with Poirot (Branagh) finishing an investigation at a church in Jerusalem. These early scenes introduce both the character's deductive prowess and obsessive compulsive tendencies. Branagh gives the character an air of both humor and wisdom with a charismatic charm that is instantly captivating. Poirot plans to take some time off after his case, but is urgently called to London to take on another. As fate would have it, this sudden change of plans lands him on the Orient Express.

On the train, Poirot encounters the assortment of characters who will shortly become suspects in the murder of one of the other passengers. The film assembles a who's who of Hollywood actors to fill out the cast. Johnny Depp, arguably the most widely known member of Branagh's troop, plays the victim Samuel Ratchett. Ratchett's unsavory business dealings leave a plethora of people who could have potentially killed him. Poirot swiftly begins a methodical investigation of the only people who had access to Ratchett, the other passengers.

Like the book it is based upon, Murder on the Orient Express is a slow building mystery that offers a nice change of pace for a trip to the movies. My only complaint is that the film is so filled to the brim with talented actors that they don't all get the equal opportunity to showcase their skills. Screen time aside, Branagh manages to honor the history of the story while making it relevant to modern audiences. Even knowing how the narrative would end, I still found myself on edge of my seat. Branagh makes ample use of the sweeping landscapes outside of the train and finds several inventive ways to vary the evenness of the interior. The filmmakers have already announced plans to adapt Death on the Nile. I can't wait to see more of Christie's classic novels brought to life.

"You go down out there, you're a ghost. There's nobody, nobody coming back for you."

A couple months ago, I read American Assassin by the late author Vince Flynn. The origin story for his hero Mitch Rapp provided some solid back story to the CIA operative. Hollywood has been trying to bring the hero to the screen for years. By adapting this prequel novel and casting young Dylan O'Brien of Maze Runner fame as Rapp, filmmakers have set up this movie to serve as the first in a planned franchise based upon Flynn's novels.

The film opens with the gruesome scene of Mitch witnessing his fiance being murdered in cold blood during a terrorist attack on a beach. Driven by grief and an unyielding thirst for revenge, Rapp begins the process of infiltrating the terrorist group responsible for the attack. As a lone civilian in contact with some of the world's most wanted terrorists, he quickly catches the attention of the CIA. Deputy Director Irene Kennedy (Sanaa Lathan) takes a particular interest in Rapp. His personal drive, physical strength, and discreet investigative prowess could make him an ideal candidate for the agency's top secret Orion group.

Kennedy intervenes in Rapp's crazed mission to infiltrate the terrorist group and whisks him off to a remote cabin in the woods for training. Orion's operatives are trained and managed by Cold War veteran Stan Hurley (Michael Keaton). Hurley instantly dislikes Rapp and argues that he lacks both the experience and mental fortitude to join the team. Soon the CIA learns that an American born terrorist "Ghost" is planning to construct a nuclear weapon, Rapp and Hurley are forced to put their differences aside for the good of the country.

I have a mixed reaction to this film. Much of the action and acting comes off as very "by the numbers". It is easy to see where the story is going, and the movie offers little in terms of political commentary or innovation. Still, I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy myself. Michael Keaton shines as the ornery Hurley, reveling in every scene he's given. The arc of Rapp's character is much more developed and believable than it was in the novel, offering a true emotional payoff. O'Brien has the potential to grow into the role if another movie is made. A tease at the end of the film offers a tantalizing taste of things to come. While it never soars, American Assassin is still a solid action flick that marks a promising start to a potential franchise.

Stephen King is no stranger to Hollywood adaptations of his works. Over the course of his career, many of his novels and short stories have been turned into big screen films. This year alone has seen the adaptation of The Mist and Mr. Mercedes on TV and film versions of The Dark Tower and Gerald's Game. With today's release of a new take on Stephen King's iconic story It, one thing has become certain. It sure is a great time to be a Stephen King fan.

Perhaps no other Stephen King novel has managed to remain a part of the cultural zeitgeist like It. The terrifying tale of a killer clown who shifts into versions of your own personal fears has stood the test of time. While Tim Curry put forth an acclaimed performance as Pennywise the clown in the 1990 miniseries adaptation of the novel, the rest of that version failed to capture the true spirit of King's creation. With the release of this new adaptation of It, director Andy Muschietti attempts to finally do justice to King's landmark book.

The film focuses on the childhood portions of the novel, opting to leave the present day adult section for a forthcoming sequel. On a rainy day, Bill (Jaeden Lieberher) makes a paper boat for his brother Georgie to sail down the streets. Sick in bed, Bill sends his brother outside. When Georgie's boat drifts into a storm drain, he is surprised to see the shadowed figure of Pennywise the Dancing Clown lurking beneath the drain. The clown lures the boy closer until Georgie is unable to escape, and an ancient ritual that resurfaces every 27 years begins again.

A year later, Billy and his family are still reeling from the disappearance of Georgie. Georgie isn't the only child who has gone missing. In fact, a full on epidemic seems to be coming down on the normally quiet town of Derry, Maine. Children are disappearing left and right. As school lets out for the summer, Billy and his friends, a group of nerds and outcasts who call themselves The Loser's Club, set out to find any sign of the missing kids. As their investigation mounts, each child begins to be haunted by Pennywise. He tailors his appearance to fit the particular fear of each kid. Faced with the realities of the thing that is haunting them, they must stand up to their fears for the sake of their own lives and the well-being of the entire town.

It brilliantly captures the nostalgia of the past while reinvigorating Stephen King's story for modern audiences. With a running time of over two hours and an R rating, Muschietti's film has the freedom to present the aspects that made the novel so engrossing. There is ample time for each character to develop, and the horror aspects are realized in all their gory detail. Bill Skarsgard breathes new life into Pennywise the Clown, crafting a character that sends chills down your spine every time he's on the screen. Dawned in an Elizabethan costume and aided by some subtle computer effects, Pennywise becomes the thing of nightmares and the driving suspense for the entire film.

Stephen King's novels are known for their shocking horror, but the horror is always used in the aide of developing his characters. As such, it is the development of the children in the movie that truly makes It worth the price of admission. Each child gives a performance with a depth of emotion that is mature and nuanced. Whether they are dealing with grief, a bully, or abuse at home, each character has a particular obstacle that they need to overcome. You can't help but root for this group of misfits as they battle their personal demons and join together to conquer a being of pure evil. It completely lives up to the hype and surpassed my highest expectations. I can't wait for the filmmakers to have their hands at the second part to this story.