The Woman in Cabin 10 (2025)

Score: 2 / 5

The Woman in Cabin 10 is a go-to title for anyone curious about author Ruth Ware. I confess I haven't read it, but the buzz was somewhat inescapable, at least in certain circles. I have, however, read another title from Ware, and while Spiece's Pieces isn't and won't be a reading blog, my experience with her prose bears some relevance here. A few years back, I read Ware's In a Dark, Dark Wood, eager for a new voice in mystery/thrillers and seeing her name on a lot of store shelves. My impression was one of dismal mediocrity: following a path worn down by Gillian Flynn and Paula Hawkins while blatantly ripping off Christie and Hitchcock, Ware's narrative was simplistic and obvious, culminating in a final reveal so insipid and stupid that it soured me to her permanently. Even her somewhat intriguing ideas -- namely, her setting, in that novel -- are swept away by obnoxiously moralistic and unrealistic motivations for the main characters, which seem to be the point of the novel, rather than the climax, which is at best an afterthought.

So when I learned that Ware's perhaps most well-known title was getting Netflix treatment, I was not particularly excited. Yet the trailer intrigued me; I'm a sucker for anything that even loosely resembles The Lady Vanishes or a Poirot mystery, and this looked like a modern version of Death on the Nile. In the hands of Simon Stone (The Dig), and starring Keira Knightley among a cast of fabulous actors, a single watch of this on Netflix renders it a fun and simple distraction this winter. As meatier fare, however, this dish leaves a lot to be desired. 

Investigative journalist Lo (Knightley), rattled by witnessing the murder of a source, opts to take on a breezy, luxurious project to reset her professional regulation. Invited by dying billionaire Anne on a superyacht cruise to Norway, Lo is tasked with hobnobbing with wealthy guests and writing them up in a puff piece exalting their philanthropic activities. Anne, terminally ill with cancer, is opening a new charity as her final legacy, supported by her husband Richard (Guy Pearce); what Richard and everybody else doesn't know, however, is that Anne is going to donate her entire fortune. Anne tells Lo this privately, which gives Lo some pause. Why doesn't Richard know? Or the other guests, who seem to be longtime friends? Perhaps, we can almost hear her thinking as she gazes at the opulence around her, these people are all snivelling sycophants hoping for a slice of Anne's pie.

At least, that's the direction this could have taken. Instead, almost immediately, Lo encounters an unidentified, bedraggled woman onboard who suddenly disappears in what Lo believes to be a crime. Loose cigarette butts, a bloody handprint, and a body thrown overboard en route are more than enough to spark her hysterics. Crew and passengers alike dismiss her, yet her growing indignation make them all quite hostile. She's upsetting the applecart, yes, but also sucking up energy that should be spent glorying in Anne's fading glow. And when they all learn of her recent trauma, they chalk it all up to Lo simply losing the plot. It doesn't help that her flirtatious ex, Ben (David Ajala), has been assigned to this cruise as her photographer. 

Apart from the obvious ties to other projects already mentioned, this film never really feels like its own thing. As with any murder mystery, the primary joys are to be found with its cast; unfortunately, this cast isn't given much to do, as their screenplay spends almost all its time with Lo. Though Knightley is eminently watchable doing the same kind of acting she always does, Lo always feels beholden to her caricature writ broadly; intensity is great, but she never feels like a real person thrust into a bizarre and sinister situation. This means that, apart from Ajala, no other actor gets a chance to do much more than play their thinly written, archetypal role. Pearce is greasy and smug as an overprotective and likely gold-digging hubby; Gugu Mbatha-Raw pops in a few times for good measure; Kaya Scodelario, Hannah Waddingham, and David Morrissey float around like vaguely suspicious red herrings in couture. There's a rockstar and a doctor, a crew uniformly in line behind a forced facade, and some consternation over the fate of Anne's fortune.

But all amounts to much less than the sum of its parts, narratively, in a story that consistently underwhelms with its predictability and rote beats. What works much better is the visuals, if only because the yacht and ocean are so beautiful to behold. Stylishly sapped of most of its color, an icy bluish-gray palette pervades each frame, so that the beautiful actors in their leisurely boating outfits become the only real reason to watch this movie. And I do mean that, because by the final act, so absurd in its machinations, I wanted to just turn the wretched thing off and keep the memory of furtive glances and trysts in the glassy hallways below deck as murderous designs lurk around each corner. Better to go watch Flightplan instead.

Lilo & Stitch (2025)

Score: 4 / 5

Of the live-action remakes of Disney films, Lilo & Stitch was not an expected one, if only due to its comparatively recent original. The runaway 2002 hit has certainly made its mark on fan culture; Stitch is ubiquitous in any Disney store or park. And though the original film has its downsides -- after a truly magical first hour or so, it devolves into mindless chases that eschew the smarts setting it up -- it clearly inspired a generation with several sequels and multiple television series. Dean Fleischer Camp's new film effectively captures the magic of the original, making it more grounded and less frenetic, providing more of what made it memorable and less of what made it irritating for an audience perhaps older than its target.

Clearly offering fan service, at least for those in the know, the film's cast includes returning members who voiced the original Nani, David, and others. Chris Sanders himself returns, not as writer or director, but as Stitch's iconic voice; perhaps an unpopular take, but I have always liked Stitch better when he does not use actual words, relying instead on loose mimicry and vulgar vocalizations. And, of course, we get more Elvis music. To add to the pleasant melange, we get stunning photography in Hawaii and while surfing, sincere and compelling emotional performances from excellent actors, earnest and earned sentimentality with updated themes (more on this presently), and its signature chaotic comedy, often slapstick in form. 

Though there aren't many changes to the plot, a few should be mentioned and considered here. Gantu, the giant hunter tasked with apprehending the runaway Stitch, is wholly absent here, and I personally found that choice brilliant. We already have Jumba and Pleakley chasing him, and we don't need more chaos on that front, and an enormous gray alien stalking around would subtract from the live-action premise of this film. To that point, I also found the switch from the heavy CGI in the film's inciting scene to live action when Stitch makes landfall as welcome and exciting as the flip in Enchanted, or, to be frank, in The Wizard of Oz. Cold and dark animation in space among aliens is fine, but the refreshing color and light and tactile pleasures of Kauai (actually, I think it was mostly filmed on Oahu?) feel revelatory. Additionally, Jumba and Pleakley are a delight here, brought to hilarious life by a morose Zach Galifinakis and a sweetly naive Billy Magnussen; some will decry the lack of drag in Pleakley's human presentation, but I'm not sure there was going to be a controversy-less decision on that front. Would it be better for bad drag, as in the animated original, in an era of fears around men in dresses (which are statistically unfounded, to be clear)? Could Magnussen and his designers have pulled off good drag, and what might that have felt like to genderqueer and drag performers in the biz?

Lilo Pelekai herself is charming and less monstrous than in the original, which could incite anger from fans who need her to be as "bad" as her adopted alien pet. Newcomer Maia Kealoha imbues Lilo with a believable sense of lonely duckling syndrome (there is nothing ugly about the beautiful child, which I think helps explain the mysterious lack of attention to the "ugly duckling" motif in the original), and her drifting identity here is slightly less eccentric, which helps us love her more. That said, I did miss her iconic moment in the original of attempting voodoo against her bullies with frog legs and pickle brine. Most importantly, this is arguably a film more about Nani than the original, and she gets hers and then some. Sydney Elizabeth Agudong is a fully-realized young woman here, not just a capable caretaker for her sister but an ambitious and eager professional whose career and entire life have been stymied by the loss of their parents. Many audiences are upset by the film's denouement, which dramatically changes Nani's arc (don't worry, I won't spoil it here), but I found it significantly more feminist and realistic than the original, and it palpably reinforces the entire franchise's primary theme of the virtues of found family.

Building on that point, for those of you in the know, we also get a new character who rounds out the realism and comfort of the film's melodrama in Amy Hill as Tutu, David's grandmother and the Pelekais' longtime neighbor. David himself (Kaipo Dudoit) is charming and winsome, and together, they provide much-needed thematic warmth to this film. Hannah Waddingham doesn't have much to do, but her stilted inflection as the alien Grand Councilwoman is fabulous. Oh, and Courtney B. Vance is a delicious Cobra Bubbles, and that's all I'll say about that. There's a new social worker from a significant actress, and a few cool updates to the source material, and it's all really lovely in emphasizing the "found family" aspect of ohana, especially as Lilo (and, by extension, the audience) learns what caretaking fully requires. And under this director's thoughtful and humble guidance, this movie generously provides exactly what I hoped for in a remake of this material: faithfulness in all aspects with a few intentional and measured deviations for increased emotional and aesthetic impact.

Mission: Impossible - The Final Reckoning (2025)

Score: 4 / 5

When I walked out of the screening of The Final Reckoning -- intended to be the end of the Mission: Impossible franchise -- the cinema owner asked me my opinion, and all I had to say was, "Wow. That was a lot of movie."

As a standalone film, which it patently is not, it simply doesn't work. There are far too many flashbacks and callbacks in the first hour to previous entries that it feels like a televised recap before the series finale. Repetitive and condescending, the screenplay pauses in nearly every scene to describe explicitly what just happened, what's currently happening, and why it matters to the audience; it may be the talkiest action film ever made. And it's all deeply concerned with its own pretense, conceitedly pointing out the stakes at each turn and reminding us why Ethan Hunt and his impossible missions have, for over a generation now, enraptured audiences and encapsulated the art of filmmaking through the decades.

And it's for that reason that the film works wonderfully as a climax to the impossible missions of Hunt and of Tom Cruise himself. Not only does it ramp up the action to freshly imagined impossibilities for Hunt to endure, testing him beyond anything he's previously faced; The Final Reckoning reads like a swan song for Cruise, who is gifted with not only superhuman action prowess but a certain control over the visual language of the film. Despite his ghastly hairstyle in this film, he graces the screen with the surety and suavity he's mastered as an iconic brand his whole life. As a creative (and financial) power behind the scenes, one wonders at a few moments that exemplify his control over his own projects: during one of the most literally breathless sequences in the series, Hunt turns a submarine's wheel to devastating effect and the film's aspect ratio shifts from widescreen to IMAX. It's the kind of subtle flair Ang Lee tossed into Life of Pi, among other examples, and it makes the vision pop from our eyes to our whole being. I felt like my seat was vibrating in the screening; maybe it was me, maybe it was because I wasn't inhaling enough.

While the specifics of the villainous AI known as The Entity aren't all that clear -- be sure to rewatch (the retrospectively poorly-named) Dead Reckoning Part One for slightly better comprehension -- the point of this film is less topical and more mythological than its predecessor. Hunt is figured here as the savior of the world without much doubt or concession. President Sloane (Angela Bassett, gloriously returning) begs him, two months after Hunt retrieved the cruciform key to the Entity's source code, to save the world as the AI takes over various countries' governmental operations and nuclear weaponry; he accepts after demanding, essentially, carte blanche and whatever he deems necessary, including a warship in the Pacific. I chuckled as often as I gasped in this movie because, really, what else can you do with such material?

Unlike our ongoing onslaught of superhero films, Mission: Impossible always grounds its impracticalities and unlikelihoods with amazing effects and stunts, which is why I'd generally prefer these films to other action franchises. Cruise here astonishes with his endless running, jumping, running, swimming, running, falling, and more running, and his climactic chase on and around biplanes is exactly as thrilling as it should be. Under Christopher McQuarrie's now-masterful direction of the last few entries, this film smartly balances its extended action sequences with meaningful melodrama via its enormous cast of A-list stars, including returners Ving Rhames (who gets a fabulously emotional send-off), Simon Pegg, Hayley Atwell (whose romantic purpose feels both underbaked and underserved here), Janet McTeer, Holt McCallany, Henry Czerny, Nick Offerman, Angela Bassett, Hannah Waddingham, Shea Wigham, and more. Esai Morales returns as the human face of villainy, though he has little to do and is as grating as Christoph Waltz in his Bond film, and Pom Kelementieff, who is thankfully less awkward in this picture than the last. And for its three-hour runtime, they all admirably step up to the plate in this final outing, making the time fly by.

McQuarrie and his co-writer don't inject much humor into this film, and while it does feel tonally more somber and apocalyptic than these movies usually do, it pays off in sentimental and nostalgic dividends. They know this is all ridiculous, and they know that's why we've loved it for so long, so they don't cheapen the experience one iota. Its seriousness might put off some fans, but I think the franchise deserves its eye-popping, breathtaking finale to take itself more seriously than usual. After all, it's a much different world than when Hunt accepted his first mission. I'd be interested to see the almost-six-hour full cut of the Dead Reckoning film altogether, because I think that would help the pacing and spectacle considerably; much like the final two Harry Potter films, the buildup and payoff work better continuously rather than separated. But I cannot deny that this is the most-movie movie I've seen in cinemas in years. 

The Fall Guy (2024)

Score: 4.5 / 5

Could the 2020s see the return of simple, original, fabulous standalone blockbusters from major studios? So far, the signs are good, and after starring in both Barbie and now The Fall Guy, Ryan Gosling is making quite the splash as Hollywood's "it" leading man. It's refreshing to have these big budget, creatively inspired, wholly joyful movie experiences in an age when everything is part of larger IPs and guaranteed message boards meant to tease out obscure references in other media that is required for full comprehension. The studio effort to entertain above all else is admirable for the first time in a while, and especially with these titles that aren't weighty or even apparently eager for awards.

And just as how Barbie worked to remind us of the magic of production design in practical ways, The Fall Guy explicitly wants to lionize stunt workers in our age of fully saturated CGI action. It helps that it's being directed by David Leitch, who started his career as a stunt double and whose previously directed films (including John Wick, Atomic Blonde, and Deadpool 2) have significantly altered the landscape of contemporary action as a genre. Here, Leitch is clearly in his element, and the labor of love is palpable in every single scene of this film, which carries a uniquely electrifying energy that never lags. Every time I thought the film might zig it zagged, and not necessarily in terms of plot (though the writing by Drew Pearce is fine) but in terms of style and tone. Here we have a rambunctious mix of humor, romance, mystery, crime, and of course action but never in the expected manner. Each set piece gets bigger and more elaborate, whether it's an insane ride in a dump truck through urban streets and a dog that bites crotches or an emotionally fraught slow chase between speedboats in a marina, and all are executed with obvious care and good awareness for its audience's patience.

The plot is easy enough to follow with a few arguably unnecessary complications, so we won't recount it here. Gosling himself carries the movie with the kind of '80s panache of Harrison Ford, Mel Gibson, or Sylvester Stallone, and he's magnetic on screen. Emily Blunt isn't given a whole lot to do, but she performs reliably and shines in the first act, and again in the finale, well after her shoehorned karaoke scene (which isn't her fault, it's just an annoying trope of rom-coms that can be put to bed now, thank you very much). With their leading power, The Fall Guy reminds us that sometimes, and only really in movies like this, star power can be both the saving grace of a picture and completely earned by the performer. Effortlessly funny and sexy at the same time, Gosling's swagger isn't just his brand; he also acts his face off here, bringing his sizable filmography in indie dramas to bear on a film that he certainly could have just shown up to glide through.

The supporting cast are all excellent but shockingly understated. In a film where style arguably supersedes substance, it's telling that nobody is really hamming it up like they could. Everyone is grounded in a refreshing way. Key to this is Aaron Taylor-Johnson, playing the big movie star for whom Gosling is meant to double in stunts. While he consciously references other big stars like Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt in his mannerisms and delivery (even his voice feels stolen from Matthew McConaughey), he's not making fun of any of them or even really trying to pull focus; he's just reminding us of the reality of leading men we know and demonstrating the separation of expectation versus production process. It's carefully calibrated and really smart. Similarly, the film-within-the-film that acts as the plot's mobilizing entity always has its trusty producer Gail at hand, and Hannah Waddingham (in a shocking dark wig) comes the closest to a full camp performance without really stepping over that line. Always with a bag on her arm, a drink in her hand, and a plastered grin on her face -- always somewhat masked by hair or glasses -- she moves through the world of the film in a more diminished capacity that we're used to seeing from her, which has the added effect of making her less predictable and more interesting.

The rest of the cast is fine, though I'd like to have seen more for Winston Duke and Stephanie Hsu to do. A great soundtrack of period-appropriate music keeps things moving when the plot threatens to slack. The behind-the-scenes of the movie industry on display could have been featured more, and frankly the organized crime plot was overbaked to a point of distraction. But it allows for some truly eye-popping stunt work which is what the film is really all about anyway. A love letter to the guys on set with their thumbs up as they risk their bodies and lives, The Fall Guy feels as much a gift to modern audiences annoyed with CGI-laden three-hour features that take themselves too seriously as it does to its own industry as anxieties about AI and deepfakes reach a boiling point. It's a great way to start the summer blockbuster season.

Hocus Pocus 2 (2022)

Score: 4 / 5

The witches are back, and there's hell to pay! Almost 30 years after the original, Hocus Pocus 2 graces us this Halloween season, exclusively on Disney+. It's pretty much what we all want and expect, give or take a few elements (and depending on your preferences). Specifically, it heaps on the nostalgia in tribute to the beloved original; some may decry its surprising diversity and inclusivity of realistic demographics, and probably the same detractors will mock its heartfelt efforts to be genuinely sweet, while others will consider its relative lack of violence, scares, or even genuine stakes a shallow substitute for camp, which has been almost entirely sanitized. But it's still a rollicking good time, and we can all be grateful for that.

In the present, Salem celebrates Halloween with renewed vigor. Becca (Whitney Peak) and Izzy (Belissa Escobedo) are two high school friends eager to observe the holiday with their own tradition: dabbling in white magic and having a sleepover for Becca's birthday. After school, they hurry to their favorite haunt, the historic Sanderson house, now a little magic shop run by Gilbert (Sam Richardson), where they stock up on sage and salt and whatever else they want. This time, he even gives them an infamous black flame candle. They're a bit down because their third friend, Cassie (Lilia Buckingham), isn't joining them, as she's been spending all her time with her new boyfriend. But that won't stop them entirely, so they venture into the woods and light the candle under a full moon. They seem to be well aware of the virginity requirement, but they either discount it as a sexist tradition or otherwise don't care, because soon enough the Sanderson sisters materialize in the flesh.

Their goal is much the same as before: to live forever and not disappear by morning's light. As corralling local kiddos to eat didn't work so well before, they try a different tactic this time: using a forbidden spell to become all-powerful. This film begins with a flashback to colonial Salem when the sisters, as little more than orphaned children, are banished from the village. The Reverend Traske (Tony Hale) decided to match the eldest sister, Winnie, with a young man from the village and send the younger sisters to live with other families until they come of age. Winnie naturally refuses, and the Pilgrims banish them from town. Together in the woods, the young girls meet a stylish and beautiful witch (Hannah Waddingham, dressed suspiciously like young Dani in the previous film) who initially appears eager to feed on their lives. Once Winnie is revealed to be a witch, the matronly sorceress gifts them her own spellbook, a sentient "Book" with a living human eyeball on the cover, and expresses wistful praise that the sisters' love is admirable and precious and will make them a strong coven indeed.

As the witches search for Book in the present day, they come across signs for the upcoming mayoral election, advertising that Traske's descendant is alive and well (also played by Tony Hale). He's Cassie's father, interestingly enough, and for the witches to enact their spell, they need the blood of an enemy: his. And so ensues the expected madcap romp through a Halloween paradise, each party chasing some magical item, potion ingredient, or missing person. The humor is mostly wholesome and surprisingly witty, as when the witches enter a Walgreens and drink lotions to feel young again. There are now two musical numbers the witches perform, though one excellent one would have been better than two odd choices even more oddly executed. The filmmakers graciously offer some queer content too, including a drag-inclusive Sanderson Sister Halloween costume contest and a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment of Winnie flying past an apartment window where two gay men are cuddling on the sofa and watching the original film; naturally, she sneers and flies on.

It's an odd move, this legacy sequel. Released exclusively on the streaming platform, almost three decades after the original, it begs the question, "Why now?" It seems to answer its own question with a "why not?" But with so much clamoring for a sequel for so many years, it's a bit tough to swallow that this might be a bit too little, a bit too late. The filmmakers express their love of the original in so many ways, not least of which in bringing back Bette Midler, Kathy Najimy, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Doug Jones in all their glory, though Midler in particular has to fight to keep up energy with her younger costars. But they've also sanitized a lot of it, taking out much of the bite (literally) of the original by not making the witches overtly cannibalistic or even scary (there is one jump scare in the original that gets me to this day). The overplayed "virgin" bit of the original is mostly absent here, thankfully, but so too are a lot of the edgy sexual innuendos (such as the fake cop scene, bus scene, and Satan scene) that make the film so delightfully and disguisedly raunchy. Instead, there is a lot of heartfelt nostalgia this time, and earnest messaging about the love between sisters and the sacredness of sisterhood in general. It's not "better" or "worse," just different, and ultimately a nice addendum -- if not quite companion piece -- to the original classic.