G20 (2025)

Score: 2 / 5

Released on Amazon's Prime Video the same week as The Amateur, G20 is a less gritty and more fun political action-thriller. In the vein of big-budget terrorism movies centered around a sitting US president -- think White House Down, Air Force One, and Olympus has Fallen -- this outing features one of the most compelling and exciting leading stars yet in the form of a formidable Viola Davis. Her character, former Iraq war veteran who was immortalized on a TIME magazine cover, is now President Danielle Sutton, and she's eager to make a splash at the G20 summit in Cape Town. She's also eager to be a good mother to her two teen kids, though her daughter is causing no small amount of havoc, domestically. When mercenaries led by a special forces officer hijack the summit and take the world leaders hostage, Sutton escapes but returns to save her colleagues and her family.

There's not a moment of this film that doesn't feel familiar or predictable, which is disappointing in a film with four writing credits. It's also really disappointing that the film looks so cheap: its clear use of greenscreen in many scenes and endless transition shots makes it look like a network television show's CGI from twenty years ago. But director Patricia Riggen handles the film's propulsive action with diverting thrills and no small amount of tension, even with a frustrating number of bait-and-switches that start at the end of the opening sequence itself. Perhaps that's a problem of the writers, the editors, or the director, but regardless, this is one of those films to not think too critically about. Just go along for the ride. Davis will get you where you need to go. 

The rest of the cast is unremarkable. Anthony Anderson does what he can with a mostly inept First Gentleman, Antony Starr's villain is boorishly blasé, and Douglas Hodge is utterly wasted as the UK Prime Minister. Elizabeth Marvel has a few nice moments, but she's shoehorned in by a screenplay that needs a final twist, and Ramon Rodriguez is memorable as a sweet and plucky sidekick to the prez. But this is Davis's movie through and through, and she delivers with a knowing sense of grit and determination. Her scenes are highly satisfying not necessarily because of her particular physical prowess (this isn't John Wick, after all) but because of her emotional dedication to whoop ass; Davis is never less than authentic, and we feel every punch and kick along with her (remember The Woman King?). It's also highly satisfying to see her pushing back against her white colleagues who explicitly question her leadership as a Black woman, and that her best help comes from other people of color. 

What's the film really about, though? Other than a hammy thematic concern about family and keeping one's house in order, not much. The entire terrorist plot is about money, unfortunately. Cryptocurrency, in fact, and deepfakes, AI, and trade wars all take significant time to discuss. And discuss these characters do, though after multiple detailed conversations and rather obtuse dialogue, I'm still unable to paraphrase much of what the actual plan was, or how various characters schemed to bypass the villainous demands. Perhaps because I simply don't know anything about digital currency, but also perhaps because it doesn't really matter for the story, either.

Arguably too little too late, G20 ends up little more than a ramshackle vehicle for a fun but uncomfortably wobbly ride. It fits with this year's Captain America: Brave New World in that it attempts to address real-world chaos and inflamed racial politics by merely using them rather than offering insight or illumination. It feels "nice," yet I'm not convinced a story like this should ever feel "nice." Eager to impress on us how simple and ultimately helpful it is to find common ground and play nice with diverse people, the film saves itself from total obscurity by enshrining a Black woman as a badass president in the style of Harrison Ford. I just wish our world reflected even an ounce of that in practice right now.

Cobweb (2023)

Score: 3.5 / 5

Eight-year-old Peter is shy and bullied and at risk. Thankfully, his substitute teacher notices and tries to take him under her wing, but his emotionally distant parents put a firm stop to that. With Halloween approaching, Peter -- who many kids but especially queer and neurodivergent kids would relate to -- wants to celebrate and go trick-or-treating, but his parents won't let him. They say a young girl disappeared on Halloween once, and they don't want Peter to be in similar danger. But staying at home hardly seems pleasant with those two demanding, disconnected parental figures. And Peter has been hearing knocking in the wall of his bedroom, taps accompanied by the voice of a young girl, who claims to have been trapped in the walls by Peter's "evil" parents.

Scared yet? You should be. There's not a lot of terribly original material in Samuel Bodin's directorial debut, Cobweb, but it's a fabulously fun time and a suitably spooky addition to anyone's Halloween horror roster. Think something along the lines of The People Under the Stairs and The Babadook and you'll appreciate the heavily stylized horror of this film along with its layers of psychological complexity. We may not talk about Bruno, but this voice in the walls is the stuff of nightmares. The more she sympathizes with Peter and builds rapport with him, the more he acts out and upsets his parents. Then Peter's bullies are brutally attacked by, well, whoever belongs to the voice. Is she his guardian angel, or a monstrous fiend looking to break in to the house?

It doesn't always matter, in this film, as our focus is tightly drawn on Peter (Woody Norman) and his psyche as he weighs the value of the various people in his life. The aptly named Miss Devine (Cleopatra Coleman) tries to help him, but she's repeatedly hindered by his parents Mark and Carol (Antony Starr and Lizzy Caplan) doing their brilliantly understated creepy thing at every turn. Their dynamic makes up the bulk of the film, interspersed with nasty sequences of people getting their comeuppance for interfering in this insular family's affairs. There aren't a ton of jump scares, but the few that exist are inspired and chilling, earned by their raw, low-budget creativity. It helps that Bodin's atmosphere, helped by grim production design and showstopping cinematography by Philip Lozano, is not unlike that within a haunted house. A real one, not a carnival attraction. For the most part.

Its plot is simple even if there always seems to be something happening. The film is an exercise in misdirection; one might think that Hitchcock would have made something like this had he survived this long and gotten a taste for the "maybe supernatural, maybe psychological" horror so popular in recent years. As its title suggests, it's as though the writer (who also wrote the unspeakable 2022 requel Texas Chainsaw Massacre) tossed several ideas onto a web before deciding all the dangly bits made for good ambiance. There's an intentionally off-putting stilt to most of the dialogue, especially from the parents, which makes the proceedings unnerving because it's all so unnatural, and this is a rare occasion when that effect enhances the film rather than detracts from it. By about the halfway point, it becomes clear what's really going on in Peter's house, but by then we're more than ready for the scary showdown we've been promised. And while it won't be to everyone's liking, if you let yourself get on Cobweb's odd wavelength, it'll creep its way under your skin, too.

The Covenant (2023)

Score: 3.5 / 5

Another year, another war movie, although it's been a while since we had a solid one set during the late War in Afghanistan. In The Covenant, which came out earlier this year, we're introduced to Army Sergeant John Kinley (Jake Gyllenhaal, who continues to be un-typecast-able) in an opening scene that seems ripped from The Hurt Locker. His team specializes in recovery of explosives and the hunt for weapons of mass destruction; in conducting yet another routine roadside inspection of local vehicles, a bomb detonates and kills Kinley's translator and two other soldiers. It's sad, of course, but not the most tragic or even unusual thing to happen to soldiers in this region. It's, chillingly, part of the job.

Shortly after, Kinley takes on a new translator named Ahmed (Dar Salim in a wonderful performance), who hammers home in his "interview" the rote, almost mercenary nature of the job. The two men work well together, and while Kinley is arguably the protagonist, Ahmed wields the dramatic focus and intrigue of the first half of the film. He's mysterious and vaguely threatening, at least to his white teammates, but he does his job well if stoically. During negotiations and interrogations, he is comfortable and eager to go "off script," and when answering to Kinley he holds his own and is unafraid to speak up on his own behalf. Early on, Ahmed proves his mettle in saving his team, and Kinley admires and trusts him in the equally stoic way of hardened soldiers.

When another Taliban attack kills their entire team, Kinley and Ahmed escape on foot through the desert mountains; Kinley becomes wounded and Ahmed kills their pursuers before tending to Kinley and single-handedly pulling him through the wilderness to safety. Seven weeks later, Kinley, at home in California, knows Ahmed saved him but doesn't know how or even really why. Thus the title's significance comes into full effect, as Kinley desperately tries to procure visas for Ahmed and his family, who were forced into hiding after their exploits. Kinley then embarks on a return journey -- through the heart of darkness, you might say, to locate and rescue his savior and his family. 

It's a war story of brotherhood forged in battle, an unlikely pair who share a life debt together. Kinley's agony at the thought that he owes Ahmed his life yet can't get the help he needs in the form of visas is the kind of thing Gyllenhaal does best, and his return journey is a terribly evocative and satisfying climax. Eventually, Ahmed's hatred of the Taliban is revealed as much deeper than first supposed, and indeed his hiring into this position is more than just a paycheck to him. The two men make for a fascinating dynamic on screen, and if you like this kind of story, you'll be eminently satisfied.

While the title is annoyingly identified properly as "Guy Ritchie's The Covenant," it doesn't really feel like a Ritchie film. For the most part, it's very restrained and tuned in to nuanced, quieter moments away from the battlefield. Except for a few cinematographic and effects-riddled moments, it could be a Clint Eastwood film from back in his less-problematic years. Well, that, and its booming score by Christopher Benstead, although I actually like a war or adventure movie with an overpowering score; it just adds to the operatic intensity of everything else.

But I'm just not sure what the point of it all is, apart from the story of this commitment between the two men. Kinley's attempts at procuring visas reveal the failure of American bureaucracy to fulfill its promises to Afghan allies. I hoped Ritchie and his writers would lean into this aspect, critiquing American exceptionalism for its lies and emptiness, and establishing one of the first films of its kind to be really honest about the US failures in the Middle East. And how timely would that be, considering what happened two years ago (the film takes place in 2018, so the connection is clear) when America withdrew our troops from Afghanistan and many allies were executed by the Taliban. But instead of exploring these ideas with any active interest or even anger, Ritchie redirects his film towards sentiment, the bonds of brotherhood, and the thrill of wartime action. And that's how we're reminded it's a Ritchie movie, unfortunately.