YNOT at the Movies

Fifteen years after we first entered the grand halls of Highclere Castle, "Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale" (UK/USA 2025 | 123 min.) brings the curtain down with warmth, wit, and a deep affection for the characters who have become like a family to audiences worldwide. Writer Julian Fellowes and director Simon Curtis present a parting gift that feels both celebratory and wistful, a reminder of why this saga became a global phenomenon, and why saying goodbye is so bittersweet.

The film finds Lady Mary (Michelle Dockery) navigating scandal after her divorce becomes public, threatening both her reputation and her ability to lead Downton into the future. Her parents Lord Grantham (Hugh Bonneville) and Lady Grantham (Elizabeth McGovern) are tested by financial crisis and the prospect of handing over their legacy, while her sister Lady Edith Hexham (Laura Carmichael), her husband Lord Hexham (Harry Hadden-Paton), and Tom Branson (Allen Leech), once the family's chauffeur and now their trusted son-in-law, step forward with hard truths and steadfast support. For Lord Grantham, the reckoning is especially painful: the Crawleys can no longer afford both their ancestral home and their grand London residence, forcing him to consider life in the smaller Dower House and even a modest Kensington flat. The arrival of Lady Grantham's brother Harold Levinson (Paul Giamatti) and his dubious American friend Gus Sambrook (Alessandro Nivola) further complicates matters, as family honor and fortune once again hang in the balance.

Below stairs, life is changing too. Mr. Carson (Jim Carter) struggles to step aside as Andy Parker (Michael Fox) becomes butler, while Daisy Parker (Sophie McShera) prepares to inherit Mrs. Patmore's (Lesley Nicol) kitchen. Familiar faces—Anna Bates (Joanne Froggatt), John Bates (Brendan Coyle), Mrs. Hughes (Phyllis Logan), Mr. Molesley (Kevin Doyle), and Thomas Barrow (Robert James-Collier)—each take their bows with grace, reminding us how much joy their stories have brought.

The film sparkles with spectacle—the glittering Petersfield Ball, the elegance of Ascot, and the bustling County Fair—yet its real treasures are in the conversations, the cutting one-liners and tender exchanges that Fellowes writes so well. The interplay between family and servants, once marked by rigid lines, now carries the gentle acknowledgment that times are changing, and life at Downton must change too.

Hovering over it all is the memory of Violet Crawley, the Dowager Countess. Though Dame Maggie Smith is no longer with us, her presence lingers, her wit echoed in Lady Mary's resilience, her wisdom in Lord Grantham's reluctant grace. The film closes with a quiet, heartfelt tribute that honors both the character and the legendary actress who embodied her, a farewell that resonates on and off screen.

Charming, witty, and suffused with affection, "Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale" is more than a film, it is a love letter to its audience. It allows us one last chance to revel in the splendor of Downton, to laugh at its sharp dialogue, and to cherish these characters before the lights dim. As the Crawleys pass the torch to a new generation, we leave the Abbey with gratitude for the journey, and with the wistful knowledge that these beloved voices will echo in memory long after the screen fades to black.

"Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale" opens in theaters on Friday, September 12, 2025.

Bleak, chilling, and merciless, "The Long Walk" (USA 2025 | 108 min.) makes the road itself into a graveyard, and makes the journey as harrowing for the audience as for the boys. The film is director Francis Lawrence's adaptation of Stephen King's first-written novel, a dystopian story King penned in the shadow of the Vietnam War, when American teenagers were drafted by lottery to die on the battlefield. Here, the battleground is a bleak stretch of highway, and the war is replaced by a state-sanctioned endurance contest designed to grind fifty boys down to one lone survivor.

The rules are cruelly simple: keep walking at three miles per hour, no stops, no rest, no mercy. Fall behind and receive three warnings before instant execution. Among the walkers, Ray #47 (Cooper Hoffman), an empathetic, natural leader, becomes the quiet center of the story, while Peter #23 (David Jonsson), charismatic and confident, emerges as his closest ally and eventual rival. Their bond, forged in exhaustion and terror, gives the film its emotional core. Others drift in and out of focus—Stebbins #38 (Garrett Wareing), the so-called Superman fitness fanatic; Arthur #6 (Tut Nyuot), a gentle dreamer who longs to travel to the moon; Gary #5 (Charlie Plummer), a taunting agitator who masks insecurity with cruelty; Hank #46 (Ben Wang), the street-smart, superstitious talker who joins Ray, Peter, and Arthur as part of "the Four Musketeers"; Curly #7 (Roman Griffin Davis), the youngest participant, whose aching legs remind us of the boys' supposed adolescence; and Collie #48 (Joshua Odjick), an Indigenous participant with a tough look and deep conviction. Over them all looms The Major (Mark Hamill), an authoritarian true believer in dark sunglasses, meting out slogans and death with equal detachment.

Watching the film feels like walking it: grim, punishing, and utterly exhausting. Director Francis Lawrence stages the dystopian story as the simplest, most brutal concept—step after step toward annihilation. The inevitability of the outcome doesn't dull its impact. Even if we know only one boy will remain, the gradual attrition, the blistered feet and hollow eyes, leave us shaken. Yet the plausibility falters: could anyone really march nonstop for five days and more than 300 miles? The film asks us to accept the impossible as allegory, and when viewed as a reflection of war, conscription, and how young lives are treated as expendable, it works with chilling clarity.

The casting, however, is less convincing. The actors bring intensity and gravitas, but they look too old for roles that should be unbearably raw, unformed teenagers. Had younger faces been chosen, the horror might have felt even sharper. As it stands, Ray and Peter dominate the screen time while most others remain lightly sketched, and the emotional investment narrows accordingly.

Still, the film grips and unsettles in equal measure. It's heavy, haunting, and often hard to watch, a slow march into despair that channels the same unease Stephen King captured nearly half a century ago. Like the boys doomed to keep walking, the audience emerges drained, shaken, and grimly aware that survival is no victory at all.

"The Long Walk" opens in theaters on Friday, September 12, 2025.

What begins with a simple favor—watching a neighbor's cat—quickly explodes into one of the year's most gripping thrillers. Director Darren Aronofsky's "Caught Stealing" (USA 2025 | 107 min.) drags audiences into the neon-lit chaos of 1990s New York, where nothing is as it seems and danger lurks in every alleyway.

Hank Thompson (Austin Butler), a former high-school baseball star once destined for the San Francisco Giants, is now reduced to bartending and drinking his days away. Still loyal to his team, still calling his mom faithfully, Hank masks his unfulfilled potential behind a tough exterior, while the memory of the accident that shattered his future continues to haunt him.

Hank is in love with his girlfriend Yvonne (Zoë Kravitz), who sees a spark of possibility in him, even as he numbs himself with alcohol and struggles to imagine a way forward. But after his punk-rock neighbor Russ (Matt Smith) leaves town and asks him to take care of his cat, his fragile routine unravels and he is pulled into a criminal underworld. Soon he's hunted by a group of criminals, including the brutal Russian gangsters Pavel (Nikita Kukushkin) and Aleksei (Yuri Kolokolnikov), alongside with the Puerto Rican hustler Colorado (Bad Bunny), and the chilling yet darkly comic Orthodox brothers Shmully (Vincent D'Onofrio) and Lipa (Liev Schreiber). Of course, he is also under investigation by Detective Roman (Regina King). Hank doesn't know what they want or why he is targeted, yet he has to run for his life.

Austin Butler gives a riveting performance, capturing both Hank's broken spirit and his desperate determination to fight back when cornered. His physicality is staggering, and he performs every stunt himself. He smartly channels Hank's athletic past into the way he runs, fights, and scrambles for survival, lending a grounded believability to the chaos. Yet it's the emotional depth he brings that makes Hank so compelling.

Director Darren Aronofsky, long known for his psychological intensity, proves just as masterful in the realm of pulse-pounding suspense. He directs with precision and playfulness, crafting a ride full of shocking twists that keep audiences constantly off balance. The city itself—East Village dive bars, Brighton Beach backstreets, and Coney Island's desolate corners—becomes a living, breathing character, captured with his gritty, electrifying eye.

With its blend of relentless action, bursts of grim humor, and a hero you can't help but root for, "Caught Stealing" is a masterfully crafted thriller that jolts, surprises, and entertains at every turn.

"Caught Stealing" opens in theaters on Friday, August 29, 2025.

Can an open relationship really be the solution to keeping a marriage together? "Splitsville" (USA 2025 | 110 min.) treats the idea as a case study, only to spin it into a farcical whirlwind of jealous confessions, romantic crossovers, and chaotic brawls. The question might be provocative, but the film's answer is buried beneath so much noise that it's hard to take seriously.

The chaos begins when Ashley (Adria Arjona) abruptly tells her husband Carey (Kyle Marvin) she wants a divorce, triggered by a surreal roadside incident. Carey, stunned and abandoned, sets off alone on a ludicrous trek and scrambles his way to the beachfront home of Paul (Michael Angelo Covino) and Julie (Dakota Johnson). There, he discovers that Paul and Julie's supposedly stable marriage is sustained by an open arrangement. What follows is a whirlwind of shifting affections, jealous meltdowns, and a climactic brawl that leaves both the house and the relationships in ruins.

The trouble is, none of it feels especially believable. The four leads rarely convince as close friends, and their romantic chemistry is thin at best. Their sudden willingness to switch partners feels less like emotional evolution and more like narrative convenience, reducing them to cartoonish figures rather than complex, relatable adults. Instead of exploring the emotional stakes of non-monogamy, the film leans into slapstick and spectacle.

Occasionally, the film gestures toward deeper themes—love's fragility, the volatility of open relationships, the erosion of boundaries among friends—but these ideas are fleeting. They're quickly buried beneath pratfalls, shouting matches, and scenes that confuse escalation with insight. The farce is physical and energetic, but it plays louder than it plays smarter.

Directed by Michael Angelo Covino, co-written and co-starring by Kyle Marvin, the film feels like a personal project that might've benefited from a more dynamic cast. Both actors bring a certain sincerity, but their performances lack the emotional texture and spontaneity needed to make the relationships feel real. With stronger leads, the film might have found the emotional core it keeps gesturing toward, but never quite reaches.

Ultimately, this is a noisy, frenzied portrait of marital collapse that raises a compelling question but never slows down long enough to answer it. It's vigorous, yes—but also hollow.

"Splitsville" opens in theaters on Friday, August 29, 2025.

Marriage has never been funnier or nastier than in director Jay Roach's wildly entertaining "The Roses" (UK/USA 2025 | 105 min.). It is a remake of the black-comedy classic "The War of the Roses" (1989), based on Warren Adler's novel. With biting wit, brilliant performances, and razor-sharp dialogue, this film begins with a seemingly perfect marriage before unraveling into one of the most cutting and laugh-out-loud comedies of the year.

Theo Rose (Benedict Cumberbatch), an ambitious architect, and Ivy Rose (Olivia Colman), a rising-star chef, appear to have everything: charm, success, and two wonderful children, Hattie (Delaney Quinn and Hala Finley) and Roy (Ollie Robinson and Wells Rappaport). After Theo's architectural triumph, a museum on the seashore, literally collapses on the same day Ivy's cheekily named seafood restaurant We've Got Crabs becomes an overnight sensation, the balance of their marriage shifts, unleashing barbed comments and escalating feuds. An ensemble of colorful and offbeat players, including Theo's bumbling lawyer friend Barry (Andy Samberg) and his wife Amy (Kate McKinnon), offers them support that may or may not be helpful.

Olivia Colman and Benedict Cumberbatch are a revelation together, turning marital struggle into hilarious comedy gold. Their verbal sparring, crafted with biting precision by Tony McNamara, makes every argument sting and sparkle. Even the children get in on the act, skewering their parents with disarming frankness.

The film looks as striking as it sounds. Theo and Ivy's modernist clifftop home, designed with meticulous irony by production designer Mark Ricker, serves as both a dream palace and a ticking time bomb, its striking glass-and-steel beauty gradually reflecting the fractures in their marriage.

What also makes the film stand out is how deftly it balances tones. Just as it soars into absurd, laugh-out-loud farce—dinner parties, cake-based betrayals, insults as weapons—it always finds its way back to something raw and recognizably human. This isn't just satire, but a cautionary tale about ego, ambition, and the fine line between love and loathing.

This remake is uproariously entertaining, elevated by two actors at the top of their game. Sharp, unpredictable, and surprisingly heartfelt, it's a fresh, whip-smart take on a story that proves well worth revisiting.

"The Roses" opens in theaters on Friday, August 29, 2025.

Chinese director Shen Ao's (申奥) new film "Dead to Rights" (南京照相馆 | China 2025 | in Chinese/Japanese | 137 min.) is a haunting reminder of a history that must never be forgotten. The film confronts the brutality of the Japanese Imperial Army during the Nanjing Massacre with unflinching honesty, yet also recognizes the limits of what cinema can bear. As gruesome as it already is, the reality of mass rape and killing in Nanjing was far beyond imagination, and the filmmakers wisely balance the demand for truth with what audiences can endure in the theater. The result is a work that is both devastating and necessary—an act of remembrance as much as storytelling.

At the center of the film is A Chang (Liu Haoran), a postal worker who survives by pretending to be a photo technician. Forced to develop photographs for Japanese officer and photographer Ito (Daichi Harashima), he uncovers images that reveal, in stark detail, the atrocities committed against the Chinese people. The shop's owner, Jin Chengzong (Wang Xiao), hides with his family in the basement, clinging to the hope of escape. Wang Guanghai (Wang Chuan-jun), a translator who collaborates with the Japanese in the hope of protecting his wife and son, uses A Chang to secure the escape of his mistress, actress Lin Yuxiu (Gao Ye). Through A Chang's work, he is able to provide food for the survival of Jin's family and a wounded soldier, Song Cunyi (Zhou You), saved by Lin Yuxiu.

Liu Haoran gives A Chang a quiet resilience, capturing the fear and moral burden of a man trapped between survival and witness. Gao Ye plays Lin Yuxiu with dignity that survives even under crushing vulnerability, while Wang Xiao portrays Jin Chengzong with quiet strength as a father desperate to protect those hiding with him. Zhou You embodies the defiance of Song Cunyi, a reminder that not all resistance was silenced. The ensemble makes the story not just about the victims of war, but about individuals grasping at survival—and ultimately pushing back, finding ways to resist, to fight, and to hold on to a shred of dignity in the face of annihilation.

Wang Chuan-jun brings painful complexity to the translator Wang Guanghai, a weak and self-serving opportunist who convinces himself that betrayal is a form of saving others. He clings to power at the cost of dignity and loyalty, yet remains recognizably human—unable to face the slaughter of his compatriots, shutting his eyes and ears until the end, blind even to the fate of his own family.

Standing in chilling contrast is Daichi Harashima's Ito, a terrifyingly understated Japanese officer and photographer whose cultivated manners and artistic sensibility conceal a deep, insidious cruelty. His polite composure is more chilling than outright violence. Ito embodies a particular kind of evil—one that cloaks itself in refinement and aesthetics while enabling destruction.

If the script leans on the occasional contrivance—such as the near-unbelievable coincidence of Song Cunyi finding his brother's photograph in a darkroom—it doesn't diminish the film's weight. What matters is its refusal to let history fade into abstraction. The film insists that the crimes of the Nanjing Massacre be remembered not as statistics, but as human suffering, captured frame by frame, life by life.

And this is why the film demands to be seen. It is not an easy experience, but it is a necessary one. Sitting through "Dead to Rights" means bearing witness to pain that was real, to crimes that scarred generations, to lives cut short but not erased. The Nanjing Massacre cannot be undone, but it can and must be remembered. This film helps keep that memory stays alive, and in watching it, audiences become part of that act of remembrance.

"Dead to Rights" opens in theaters on Friday, August 15, 2025.

A lesbian private eye investigating the rot inside a small-town church sounds like the perfect recipe for a sharp, stylish, and subversive movie. But director Ethan Coen's "Honey Don't!" (UK/USA 2025 | 88 min.) fails to live up to that promise. The film opens with a playful flourish—its credits appear on signs, shopfronts, and roadside billboards, setting the stage for a stylized noir homage. It's a clever touch that hints at a sharp, ironic ride ahead. But what follows is a chaotic, visually loud film more invested in attitude than storytelling, with momentum that stutters as soon as the plot kicks in.

Honey O'Donoghue (Margaret Qualley) is a private investigator in Bakersfield, CA, with the clipped voice, cool stare, and vintage aesthetic of a classic noir heroine. She routinely brushes off the unwanted advances of a local cop (Charlie Day) with dry, unwavering confidence: "I like girls!" She is looking into the Four Way Temple, a homegrown religious operation with a twisted core. Its leader, Reverend Drew (Chris Evans), uses his power to manipulate and exploit young women, dressing them in fetish gear under the guise of spiritual guidance. When one of them turns up dead, Honey's investigation spirals into a mess of secrets, cover-ups, and moral decay.

There are several other characters during Honey's investigation. Her sister (Kristen Connolly) is overwhelmed caring for a brood of kids, and her niece (Talia Ryder) is stuck in a toxic relationship. A brief entanglement with MG Falcone (Aubrey Plaza), a straight-talking cop, adds some dry humor and another twist to Honey's already complicated world. But they, like a string of other oddball side characters never quite come together into a satisfying whole.

There are amusing moments, and Margaret Qualley brings a laconic charisma to her role. Despite committed performances and flashes of sharp humor, the film never quite comes together. It flirts with crime thriller, dark comedy, and pulp absurdity, but the shifts in tone feel abrupt and disconnected. There's a wry tone throughout, and the twists come fast—often bloody. Some of that bloodshed feels more like spectacle than storytelling. Characters are introduced only to meet sudden, grisly ends, and not all of them earn their place in the narrative.

The film is more interested in bizarre detours than narrative payoff, and its obsession with provocation eventually wears thin. Too often, the film trades momentum for indulgence. As Ethan Coen's second solo directorial effort without brother Joel Coen, this film feels like a creative side project indulging in chaos for its own sake.

"Honey Don't!" has flashes of charm and cleverness, but it barely leaves a mark. For all its noise and bloodshed, the film feels scattered and superficial, a stylized diversion that fizzles out instead of telling a mesmerizing story.

"Honey Don't!" opens in theaters on Friday, August 22, 2025.

Bigger, bolder, and more dazzling than ever, "Ne Zha II" (哪吒之魔童闹海 | China 2025 | in Mandarin | 143 min.) storms the screen like a myth brought to electrifying life. This is animation pushed to its wildest limits—bursting with vibrant color, kinetic battles, and jaw-dropping worlds where floating palaces drift through stormy skies and monsters roar with elemental fury.

Picking up after the catastrophic battle of the first film, Ne Zha (哪吒) and Ao Bing's (敖丙) souls survive, but their bodies disintegrate. With help from Taiyi Zhenren (太乙真人) and the mystical Seven-Colored Lotus, they are reborn into a new struggle involving ancient conspiracies, divine politics, and the fate of both gods and humans.

The film teems with characters and subplots, but it's also sprinkled with sly humor and absurdist touches, befitting the spirit of its director, Yang Yu (杨宇), who cheekily goes by the pseudonym "Jiaozi" (饺子), meaning dumplings in Chinese. It's remarkable that after the ground breaking "Ne Zha" (2019), this sequel is only the second feature from the talented director.

"Ne Zha II" doesn't just dazzle, it has also become the most successful movie ever at the box office, the highest-grossing animated film of all time, and the top earner in a single market, raking in over US $2.2 billion worldwide on an $80 million budget. Yet the English-dubbed version blunts the impact, with flattened emotional beats and awkward tonal mismatches. Keeping the original Mandarin with subtitles would have preserved both its cultural richness and its emotional punch.

While the nonstop battles and elaborate set pieces can sometimes feel like watching a high-budget video game unfold in real time—thrilling but not always deeply engaging—this sequel remains a record-shattering cultural phenomenon: a visual tour de force that's as epic as it is mischievously fun. There is no question that a franchise has been born and with more sequels to come.

"Ne Zha II" opens in theaters on Friday, August 22, 2025.

If John Wick went on a family road trip, slammed a bunch of energy drinks, and lost all sense of realism, you'd get "Nobody 2" (USA 2025 | 89 min.). The first film, "Nobody" (2021), flirted with plausibility; this one smashes it to pieces in a delirious celebration of consequence-free carnage. Indonesian action stylist Timo Tjahjanto takes the director's chair and pushes the sequel into sun-drenched, summer-vacation chaos with every punch bloodier, every set-piece bigger, and every moment of logic gleefully thrown overboard. It's the most violent movie of the year, and it's proud of it.

Hutch Mansell (Bob Odenkirk), still working as a hitman to pay off a $30 million mob debt, is worn out and growing distant from his wife Becca (Connie Nielsen) and kids Brady (Gage Munroe) and Sammy (Paisley Cadorath). To fix things, he plans a road trip to Plummerville, home to the rundown Wild Bill's Majestic Midway and Waterpark where he once vacationed as a kid with his brother Harry (RZA). His dad David (Christopher Lloyd) joins in, and Hutch promises to stay out of trouble. That promise lasts about five minutes.

A fight at an arcade pulls the family into the orbit of shady park owner Wyatt Martin (John Ortiz), his crooked sheriff Abel (Colin Hanks), and the town's deadliest resident: ruthless crime boss Lendina (Sharon Stone). Soon Hutch is knee-deep in chaos including duck-boat brawls, sword fights, and a waterpark shootout. He shakes off stab wounds and bullet hits like they're nothing. His pain-proof, can't-be-killed routine makes the whole thing feel more like a violent cartoon than a thriller.

Timo Tjahjanto stages thirteen fight scenes with a mix of brutal hits and dark humor, including the showpiece duck-boat fight meant to top the first film's famous bus brawl. Callan Green's colorful camerawork and Michael Diner's carnival-inspired sets turn Plummerville into a bright, deadly playground, while Dominic Lewis's wild score blends blues-rock and fairground noise. But the standout here is Sharon Stone, who plays Lendina like a Bond villain turned up to eleven—cool, cruel, and clearly enjoying every second.

This film doesn't try to be realistic, its plot is just a thin excuse to set up bigger and bloodier action scenes. But if you can roll with its ridiculousness, it's a loud, fast, and gleefully violent ride where Hutch Mansell gets to do what he does best—over and over again.

"Nobody 2" opens in theaters on Friday, August 15, 2025.

Following his breakout hit "Barbarian" (2022), writer-director Zach Cregger returns with "Weapons" (USA 2025 | 128 min.), a gripping and ingeniously crafted thriller that surpasses its predecessor in both ambition and execution. Suspenseful, eerie, unexpectedly hilarious, and wildly entertaining, "Weapons" firmly establishes Zach Cregger as one of the most compelling filmmakers in horror today.

The story begins with a chilling mystery: Justine (Julia Garner), an elementary school teacher, arrives at school to discover her entire class missing except for one boy, Alex (Cary Christopher). Archer (Josh Brolin), a distraught and furious father, sets out to find his child when the authorities fail to provide answers. Paul (Alden Ehrenreich), a recently sobered police officer, finds himself pulled into the case. Marcus (Benedict Wong), the school principal, tries to keep order as the situation spirals.

The film is structured as a series of character-titled chapters, with each section told from that character's point of view. Rather than isolating its characters into standalone episodes, the film uses this shifting perspective to expand and intensify the central mystery. As each chapter unfolds, new questions emerge, and what once seemed clear becomes unsettling. The narrative keeps evolving without losing momentum, pulling the audience deeper into a story that becomes stranger, scarier, and more compelling the further it goes. The ensemble cast brings conviction and complexity to every scene, adding tension and weight to the unraveling story.

Much of the film's creepiness comes from what isn't shown. Cregger and cinematographer Larkin Seiple often allow the camera to sit still, letting the frame breathe while building unease. A window, a doorway, or an empty street becomes a source of dread simply by how long the shot holds. This deliberate camera work invites the audience to imagine what might be just out of sight, and that uncertainty becomes part of the fear.

Cregger also infuses the film with sharp, unexpected humor and bursts of gore, making it as entertaining as it is disturbing. The absurdity never dilutes the horror—it enhances it, catching the audience off guard and keeping the tone unpredictable. The film manages to be playful without ever losing its bite.

Rich in atmosphere and full of surprises, "Weapons" is a bold and exhilarating ride from beginning to end. With this film, Zach Cregger proves he's a filmmaker with vision and nerve, unafraid to take horror in wild new directions.

"Weapons" opens in theaters on Friday, August 8, 2025.