YNOT at the Movies

Bone-crunching, brutally physical, and at times so intense you have to look away, write-director Benny Safdie's "The Smashing Machine" (USA 2025 | 123 min.) is far more than just another sports biopic. It's a raw, deeply human examination of violence, obsession, and the cost of glory. Told with uncompromising honesty and elevated by a transformative performance from Dwayne Johnson, the film charts the rise and fall of one of mixed martial arts' earliest legends while forcing viewers to confront their own fascination with combat. It's not merely about the spectacle of men fighting; it's also about the inner battles, the wounds we can't see, and the restless questions that drive them into the ring in the first place.

At the center of this story is Mark Kerr (Dwayne Johnson), a pioneering mixed martial arts fighter whose raw strength and relentlessness will make him a dominant force inside the ring. Outside of it, he wrestles with battles no less punishing: a dependence on painkillers that spirals out of control, the psychological toll of a career built on violence, and a volatile relationship with Dawn Staples-Kerr (Emily Blunt) that mirrors the physical clashes in competition. As his fame rises and his body takes blow after blow, Kerr's personal life begins to crumble, revealing the human cost of becoming "the smashing machine" that fans come to see.

Director Benny Safdie tells Kerr's story without softening its edges. The fights are staged with documentary immediacy—sweaty, bruising, and punishingly real—and Dwayne Johnson's total physical and emotional transformation gives the film a startling sense of authenticity. Yet beyond the battered bodies and split lips, the story is also interested in the souls of its characters. It doesn't give viewers a neat answer to why men like Kerr fight, whether it's for the thrill, the high, the pride, or the ego, but it makes clear that the drive comes from somewhere deeper than money or fame.

And while the film never explicitly asks why audiences are drawn to such brutality, it's impossible to leave without that question gnawing at you. Are we simply the modern equivalent of the Roman mob, cheering from the sidelines as men destroy each other for our entertainment? Benny Safdie doesn't moralize or judge, but by confronting the sport in all its unforgiving intensity, he leaves us to wrestle with the unsettling answer ourselves.

Visceral, searching, and emotionally devastating, "The Smashing Machine" is more than a chronicle of Mark Kerr's life. It's a fearless exploration of the human appetite for violence, and the unseen battles that rage long after the final bell.

"The Smashing Machine" opens in theaters on Friday, October 3, 2025.

The 48th Mill Valley Film Festival (MVFF) returns to Marin County, just north of the Golden Gate Bridge, from October 2-12, 2025, and once again it is shaping up to be one of the most rewarding stops on the fall film circuit. MVFF is the rare festival that can feel both intimate and expansive, a place where international heavyweights and small discoveries sit comfortably side by side, and where you are just as likely to stumble into a tiny gem in a theater as you are to see a future Oscar contender on the big screen.

The festival opens with "Hamnet" (UK 2025 | 125 min.), Chloé Zhao's deeply felt adaptation of Maggie O'Farrell's novel, a reimagining of Shakespeare's life and grief anchored by performances from Jessie Buckley and Paul Mescal. The centerpiece presentation is "Metallica Saved My Life" (UK 2025 | 99 min. | Documentary), Jonas Åkerlund's rousing and deeply emotional chronicle of the band's enduring cultural impact. The festival closes with "Rental Family" (Japan/USA 2025 | in Japanese/English | 103 min.), Hikari's bittersweet dramedy starring Brendan Fraser as a lonely American in Tokyo who is hired by strangers to play the roles of their loved ones.

This year's lineup features 138 films from 40 countries. The program pulls together some of the most acclaimed titles from Cannes and beyond, including Iranian director Jafar Panahi's "It Was Just an Accident" (یک تصادف ساده | Iran/France 2025 | in Persian | 101 min.), winner of the Palme d'Or, and French director Oliver Laxe's "Sirât" (Spain/France 2025 | in Spanish/French/English/Arabic | 115 min.), recipient of the Cannes Jury Prize. Korean director Park Chan-wook's "No Other Choice" (어쩔수가없다 | South Korea 2025 | in Korean | 139 min.), a razor-sharp adaptation of Donald E. Westlake's novel "The Ax," also makes its West Coast premiere here.

There is a rich mix of highly anticipated premieres too. Director Richard Linklater is bringing not one but two films this year: "Blue Moon" (USA/Ireland 2025 | 100 min.), a portrait of Broadway lyricist Lorenz Hart unfolding over one night, and "Nouvelle Vague" (France/USA 2025 | 106 min.), a lively homage to the birth of the French New Wave. Yorgos Lanthimos returns with "Bugonia" (Ireland/South Korea/Canada/USA 2025 | 120 min.), a pitch-black satire about conspiracy and corporate control, while Joachim Trier's "Sentimental Value" (Affeksjonsverdi | Norway/France/Germany/Denmark/UK/Sweden 2025 | in Norwegian/English | 133 min.) takes a more intimate look at fractured family dynamics.

Other buzzy selections include "The Plague" (الطاعون | USA/Australia/United Arab Emirates 2025 | 95 min.), a brutal coming-of-age story set in a water polo training camp, and "Sound of Falling" (In die Sonne schauen | Germany 2025 | in German | 149 min.), an ambitious, century-spanning exploration of memory and time.

As always with Mill Valley, the biggest surprises often come from the films without the red carpets or marquee names, the ones that explore overlooked histories, personal struggles, and shifting cultural landscapes.

Here are a few other films at this year's festival.

One of the very best films at this year's festival, director Huo Meng's engrossing "Living the Land" (生息之地 | China 2025 | in Chinese | 132 min.) captures a world on the cusp of change with extraordinary warmth and beauty. Set in rural China in 1991, it tells the story of a ten-year-old boy left behind as his family departs for Shenzhen in southern China, unfolding as both a portrait of tradition and a fond remembrance of a way of life now fading into history. The film's rich, painterly cinematography lingers on landscapes, seasons, and the rituals of everyday existence, creating a sensory experience that feels both deeply affecting and universally nostalgic.

French drama "Case 137" (Dossier 137 | France 2025 | in French | 115 min.) begins as a procedural investigation into a violent incident of police misconduct but quickly grows into something more complex. As an internal affairs officer peels back layers of bureaucracy, silence, and denial, the search for truth becomes a soul-bearing confrontation with the cost of accountability. The film's refusal to deliver tidy resolutions gives it an authenticity that lingers, raising tough questions about justice and power.

Luca Guadagnino's "After the Hunt" (USA/Italy 2025 | 139 min.) centers on Julia Roberts' character, a philosophy professor whose life and beliefs are tested when an accusation sparks intense debate and fractious encounters within the philosophy department. The film is dense with philosophical arguments and moral dilemmas, and it asks uncomfortable questions about responsibility, reputation, and community. Michael Stuhlbarg stands out playing her husband, delivering a mesmerizing performance as a wonderfully attentive partner trying to hold family life together while the storm around them intensifies.

Kleber Mendonça Filho's "The Secret Agent" (O Agente Secreto | Brazil/France/Germany/Netherlands 2025 | in Portuguese | 158 min.) is a gripping political thriller set amid the paranoia and repression of 1970s Brazil. When a widowed scientist named Marcelo becomes a target of the military dictatorship's secret police, he is thrust into a dangerous world of betrayal, resistance, and survival. What makes the film compelling is not just its suspense but its attention to how ordinary people navigate extraordinary political violence and the small acts of defiance that carry enormous weight.

What starts as a documentary about baseball becomes something much larger in "Diamond Diplomacy" (USA 2025 | in English/Japanese | 86 min. | Documentary), which traces more than a century of U.S.-Japan relations through a shared love of the sport. From Babe Ruth's barnstorming tours to Shohei Ohtani's meteoric rise, the film shows how baseball has transcended politics, healed historical wounds, and built cultural bridges, a reminder that diplomacy sometimes happens not in conference rooms but on the field. It is a moving testimony to the power of a game that can build bridges in a divided world.

With its mix of heavy hitters and hidden gems, its bold visions and small, personal stories, MVFF48 once again shows why it is one of the most beloved festivals in the United States. It is a place to catch the season's most talked-about films, but just as importantly, it is a place for discovery. Some of the most affecting work here resonates not just through scale or spectacle, but through how it evokes disappearing worlds and the lives rooted in them, how it uncovers beauty and longing in the smallest of gestures, and how it probes the complicated ties that bind families together. In the end, these films reflect what makes Mill Valley special: a festival that celebrates not just the breadth of cinema, but its ability to illuminate the quiet, deeply human corners of our lives.

What if today's political divides worsened into a future of repression, silenced dissent, and mounting violence? Acclaimed writer-director Paul Thomas Anderson takes that chilling premise and shapes it into his most electrifying work yet, "One Battle After Another" (USA 2025 | 161 min.). Both a fantastic thriller and a grand political fable rooted in timeless human struggles, the film feels piercingly of-the-moment while never losing sight of the intimate family story at its core.

The story centers on Bob Ferguson (Leonardo DiCaprio), a once-idealistic radical who has been driven into hiding with his daughter Willa (Chase Infiniti), living in paranoia as the consequences of his past catch up with him. When his old nemesis Lockjaw (Sean Penn) resurfaces and Willa disappears, Bob is forced back into a world of unfinished battles. Sixteen years after the French 75's heyday, their revolutionary fervor has splintered into memory while new underground networks—like the one led by Sensei (Benicio Del Toro)—fight to shield immigrants from government crackdowns. The film frames this struggle against an America where the administration rounds up immigrants, silences political opponents, and fuels rising political violence, projecting a chilling vision of where our current trajectory could lead.

Leonardo DiCaprio is sensational, bringing a sincerity and comedic vulnerability to Bob that makes him one of the actor's most endearing creations. His stoned paranoia, bumbling missteps, and sudden bursts of conviction are played with such humanity that even his funniest moments come from a place of truth. Sean Penn is extraordinary as Lockjaw, using stiff, almost statuesque body language to embody a villain both terrifying and absurd. Benicio Del Toro, meanwhile, mesmerizes in a more subdued register as Willa's martial arts teacher Sensei, grounding the film with quiet gravity and moral clarity. Their work, along with Regina Hall's steadiness and Teyana Taylor's fiery energy, creates an ensemble where every performance feels lived-in and essential.

Despite its nearly three-hour running time, the film never drags. The film's pacing is a marvel; every scene engrosses, every exchange crackles, and the tension never lets up. Nowhere is this more evident than in the desert car chase sequence, staged with breathtaking clarity and precision. Shot in VistaVision and IMAX, it isn't just thrilling, it's a set piece destined to be studied as one of the greatest in cinema history.

What elevates "One Battle After Another" beyond spectacle is its resonance. Beneath the action lies a story about disillusionment, fractured ideologies, and the persistence of resistance against creeping authoritarianism. In its portrait of how violence, paranoia, and misplaced idealism reverberate across generations, the film feels both timely and timeless.

This is, without doubt, the best film of the year so far, and an instant Oscar front-runner. In Paul Thomas Anderson's hands, the battles may be chaotic, absurd, even comical, but the filmmaking is nothing short of sublime.

"One Battle After Another" opens in theaters on Friday, September 26, 2025.

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.