The Long Walk (2025)

Score: 4 / 5

It's become somehow fun for people to either adore or detest Stephen King -- especially his adaptations -- and I don't have the slightest interest in those conversations. King is a master of horror fiction, that much has always been clear, and I'm rarely more intrigued than when a new title surfaces. While I've been a longtime personal fan of his work, I'm by no means an expert or even a completionist. Yet. So this novel, published in 1979 under his pseudonym Richard Bachman, was not one I had read before, and I was eager to experience it. Little did I know that it would blow me away.

If you've seen the trailer, or seen the title itself, you already know the plot. A simple concept becomes much more, though, in King's imagination, as he imbues diverse characters with such fascinating psychological quirks that they end up being the story far more than the plot is. His imagined America, here, is bleak and evil, and the characters are cogs in a dystopian machine, lorded over by a totalitarian military regime that feels shockingly close to where we're currently headed. Think something between The Hunger Games and The Handmaid's Tale, and that's the kind of haunting mess you'll have stuck in your head after watching this film.

Which is apt, as it's helmed by Francis Lawrence himself, director of most of the Hunger Games film series (and Constantine, I Am Legend, Water for Elephants, and Red Sparrow). He melds quite well, here, with King's story of adolescent male bonding -- rather typical of his work -- in a somewhat retro version of Americana, set in remote rural Maine. I can only imagine the difficulty with which writer JT Mollner had to grapple in dramatizing this story for the screen, visually monotonous as it is and with a literally set pace of 3mph. Yet Mollner's sheer brilliance in Strange Darling should have prepared me for the psychological thrills he'd deliver here, on the edges of civilization and civility alike. There's a literary sensibility to this film I have trouble identifying, but it has something to do with Steinbeck and Bradbury. And the characters' dialogue is never less than riveting, as it's pretty much all we -- and they -- have to go on. What else can you do while walking endlessly by necessity?

I don't really have much else to say, so forgive the coming non-sequiturs. The actors are all excellent, especially leads Cooper Hoffman (yes, Hoffman) and David Jonsson (making a huge case for leading man stardom, after Alien: Romulus), the latter of which was so charming and charismatic in this film I sometimes had trouble believing he was suffering at all. Talk about literature; Jonsson is the film's Samwise Gamgee. Judy Greer, Charlie Plummer, and Mark Hamill are all grim and suitably entertaining, though none are really given any character depth to feel like high points in the film. The scenes of horror -- and I do mean pure, unadulterated, violent and gross and shocking horror -- truly upset me in this film, perhaps because I didn't expect it of Lawrence. This is a hard R rating, for sure, and even someone too accustomed to such things may find parts of this film difficult to endure. I sure did.

This is going on my list of favorite King adaptations, for sure. It's a somber affair, one rife with elevated ideas and major themes woven with care and compassion for its characters. Depicting a hard world like this can so easily result in flattened character archetypes and forced action; this feels raw and immediate in a way that's difficult to put into words. This is along the lines of The Green Mile or The Shawshank Redemption, Dolores Claiborne, even Stand By Me, in terms of King's work, and I just loved it, despite sweating profusely and weeping loudly during our screening. The film's climax was a tad disappointing to me, but no less satisfying for it, and by the time the credits started, I was a mess. Thankfully, that meant I stayed in the darkened auditorium and heard the original song "Took a Walk" by Shaboozey and Stephen Wilson Jr., which is already my choice for best original song of 2025. What an extraordinary final touch to an already highly successful film.

Jojo Rabbit (2019)

Score: 3.5 / 5

And who said summer Nazi camp wouldn't be fun?

Certainly not Taika Waititi, whose new film feels anything but typical or expected after Thor: Ragnarok. Then again, that big-budget win might have been exactly what allowed Waititi the ability to execute this little bitch of a movie. Alternately hilarious and heartrending, Waititi works hard to masterfully handle complex themes and seemingly irreconcilable tonal extremes in this film. The extent to which he succeeds is in the eye of the beholder, but he cannot possibly be accused of being anything but original.

We begin in a Wes Anderson-esque tribute to coming of age. It's fun and interesting, especially since the camp is led by Sam Rockwell and Rebel Wilson. The cheeky presentation, shot straightforward and simply edited, with bright sunshine and cheery rousing music, lulls you into a pleasant sense of gentle -- wait. Did I mention this is a Nazi camp?

As the opening trumpets fanfare, we hear a chorus of children singing something akin to a German drinking song, and we are quickly introduced to Jojo, excited to be on his way to a Hitler Youth training camp with his friend Yorki. Jojo's fanatical obsession with Nazism manifests in his imaginary friend, Adolf Hitler himself, played by Waititi himself. This Hitler is about as bonkers as a little boy might imagine, and he repeatedly offers Jojo cigarettes and terrible advice while remaining cutesy and energetic. Despite Jojo's jingoism, however, his mettle is tested when older campers dare him to kill a rabbit. He does not, and shortly thereafter nearly blows himself up with a grenade. He is thence known as the deformed and meek "Jojo Rabbit".

I had rather hoped this sequence -- which is primarily my impression from the trailer -- would last at least half the film. Instead, it's a surprisingly brief camp experience, and Jojo is suddenly back home with his lovely mother Rosie (Scarlett Johansson). Rosie's a free-ish spirit and secret Jewish sympathizer, remaining in the graces of Nazi Germany while secretly hiding a Jewish orphan named Elsa. When Jojo discovers Elsa's presence, he is confused and terrified but keeps it a secret from everyone including his mother. The two children embark on a strange relationship -- "getting to know you", as the song goes -- and become friends by the end. Spoiler alert? I think not; there's nary a moment in this coming-of-age comedy we don't see coming.

Except, that is, for the sudden dramatic turn that, while somewhat predictable, managed to stop my breath short. It hurts a lot, and the rest of the film tries desperately to balance the tragedy with some kind of release. And while I think it succeeds dramatically, I had some trouble swallowing a few elements that felt a bit problematic. The film's narrative follows Jojo from naivete (falling prey to the dangers of blind loyalty) to some kind of higher maturity, but even at the end he exhibits foolish and selfish tendencies toward the girl he professes to love. Does his affection for her truly change his mind and heart, or is it just boyish infatuation? Does he really step away from the horrors of the Nazi psychosis, or is it all just adolescent eccentricity on a huge social scale?

And the film's ambiguous use of Scarlett Johansson only sharpens my suspicion that Waititi isn't quite sure what the purpose of this movie is. Its sharp comedy pricks fanaticism and bigotry, sure, but often at the expense of those whom it should be championing. While I was personally moved by the climax and ending, I could feel the film deliberately pulling specific heartstrings, and that kind of emotional manipulation belongs to Disney more than to this sort of arthouse satire. This should be The Producers, not Bambi, and by the end I really had no idea what message to take from this movie.

Are we at a point where we can laugh at and about Nazis without considering the implications of their depiction, in any medium? If you think so, be aware that you might come off as tone-deaf (or at least ambiguous) as Waititi does here.