“Hamnet”: Special Providence in the Fall of a Sparrow

Jessie Buckley in the front row of a standing Shakespearean audience, reaching out to the actor on stage.

The Globe Theatre used to be pretty cool about letting audiences interact with actors on stage, long before trying to tear famous people’s clothes off became a thing.

Oscars season is coming! On January 22nd the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences will announce the next round of Academy Awards nominations. Fans have a month to go before we learn which multi-million-dollar blockbusters will be validated in the secondary categories and which Best Picture nominees were only released in a single Times Square theater that would’ve made more money if they’d just shown porn instead. The more potential Oscar winners we watch now, the less we’ll have to cram into our annual Oscar Quest before the March 15th ceremony. Or, y’know, I could just take the old-fashioned approach: go see films I want to see for my own reasons and hope they get recognized later.

The latter applied for me in regard to Hamnet, the latest from Academy Award Winner Chloe Zhao. Her contemplative road-trip drama Nomadland took Best Picture during the pandemic, and I was among the six viewers who enjoyed Marvel’s disavowed Eternals, in which super-team punch-’em-up veneer cloaked a thoughtful exploration of religious disillusionment, immoral sacrifice in the name of The Greater Good, the soul’s search for purpose and sometimes repurpose, and what the treasured canard of With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility means on a cosmic scale. With Hamnet four years later, she’s retracted her reach from planetary destruction to merely the foundation of classic Western Literature, with a story set in the sixteenth century rather than traveling all the way back to the Dawn of Time. Yet another survivor of the Marvel Machine finds deeper artistic fulfillment on a smaller stage.

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“Wicked: For Good”: Revenge of the Shiz

Glinda lays her head on Elphaba's shoulder as they sit smiling in a peaceful meadow.

Down the witches’ road, one last time…until Universal decides this should be a prequel trilogy.

The best thing I can say about Wicked: For Good is how heartening it was to confirm that communal experiences can still happen if we want them. Our showing was the most crowded Tuesday night I’ve witnessed in months, and certainly the most responsive, at two points in particular. One was the film’s funniest scene — a wacky slapfight that garnered loads of laughter and audience backtalk, maybe because it was the only scene with that kind of spark — and the other was, as a Wicked fan would expect, the tender BFF-breakup duet “For Good”. I can’t remember the last time I heard that many people crying and sniffling at the same time.

Its box office grosses certainly reflect a tsunamic response from the public at large. I’m glad so many people have enjoyed quality time out of the house and away from their phones, maybe even the lady with super-sized elbows who sat next to me and only dug her phone out of her purse twice to check the time. I like to think that’s far fewer times than she’d normally check her phone if she were bored. Good on her for showing self-restraint! Anyway, here came headlines trumpeting, “CINEMA IS BACK, BABY!”

If you were among the millions of Americans who super-loved it, gave it an 11/10, and won’t shut up about it for the next month or two, enjoy your convos with other fans in your usual social spaces, you’re free to go and we’ll see you the next time Google brings you to my virtual hobby-shack’s tiny doorstep. Cheers! Have a nice day! Yay Elphaba!

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“The Running Man”: A Fistful of New Dollars

Glen powell disguised with glasses, mustache, and boring hair, very tense in a science fiction hallway filled with red WANTED posters for his character Ben Richards.

Hit Man is back! And this time, it’s personal!

Imagine you’re in a harsh alt-reality episode of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? and the next question — for, I dunno, a cash prize of six bucks — is “How does this entry about Edgar Wright’s The Running Man begin?” The possible answers are:

  • A. “In the wake of The Long Walk and The Life of Chuck, the best-ever year for Stephen King film adaptations maintains its batting record with yet another home run…”
  • B. “As with his last feature film, the glam-noir psycho-thriller Last Night in Soho, Edgar Wright once again spins nostalgic flax into a new generation’s gold…”
  • C. “After his charismatic turns in Top Gun: Maverick, Devotion, Hit Man, Twisters, and more, Glen Powell keeps flying high toward A-list cloud-nine…”
  • D. “I read the book in high school and watched the Schwarzenegger adaptation on late-night cable around the same time, so I wrote 2000 words on all the differences I noticed…”

If you picked an answer, you’re wrong! They’re all lies. And in this harsh alt-reality the producers could drop your loser self into a boiling vat of Crystal Pepsi, film your embarrassing demise, have an A.I. Regis Philbin hologram deliver a mocking eulogy, and sell action figures of you covered in third-degree burns and sticky soda. But if you’re an average sci-fi citizen, of course the part that’d make you maddest in your final seconds of life on Earth is how you’re out the six bucks.

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“Predator: Badlands”: Yautja, Yutani! Yutani, Yautja!

Elle Fanning and guy in Predator costume standing back to back, sternly.

She’s a happy-go-lucky corporate android! He’s a space hunter with a grudge! THEY FIGHT CRIME!

The Predalienator Cinematic Universe is in full effect, or whatever we’re calling it! Fans of the formerly standalone IPs never expected 20th Century Studios would use the two Alien vs. Predator crossover films — one a mediocre slog with a decent Final Boss Battle; the other, amateurish drek — as the foundation of a unified transmedia empire a la Marvel and DC. After both lay fallow for years except in licensed comics, they’ve been called back to active duty and merged into a single science fiction canon through the magical power of Easter eggs.

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“Bugonia”: What If Rod Serling Made a Lifetime Movie

In a basement, Jesse Plemons and Aiden Delbis in rumpled suits standing over a seated and angry Emma Stone, whose head is shaven.

Reservoir Dogs x V for Vendetta.

Two-Time Academy Award Winner Emma Stone has earned the clout to do only whatever she feels like after La La Land and Poor Things cemented her in the Hollywood history books, not to mention her nominations for Birdman and The Favourite. She could easily coast for the rest of her career playing unstoppable world-changing women with the best fashions, hairstyles, and male costars equal or lesser to her in power rankings. She’s more than earned the right to just sit back, relax, and coast along as the headliner in a network or streaming legal drama for the next ten years.

Instead with her latest she’s doubled down on her current outré mood. Anyone who hasn’t seen her previous black comedies she made with the idiosyncratic director Yorgos Lanthimos — not just The Favourite and Poor Things, but also Kinds of Kindness, which I have yet to endure — may be unprepared for their latest collaboration Bugonia. Technically it could be reduced to a too-basic streaming-menu logline: “Resourceful businesswoman must escape the madmen who kidnapped her.” Sounds like it could be slotted snugly in between 20-year-old basic-cable remainders and Netflix’s increasingly middlebrow offerings, right? Like a prime candidate for an inaugural Investigation Discovery TV-Movie of the Week? You could maybe even con subscribers into thinking it’s a vanguard in that burgeoning new pop culture market, “Based on a True Crime Podcast”. Eventually — and it does take a while — the viewer realizes with growing horror that it’s none of those things as Lanthimos gets down with his outlandish Lanthimosian self.

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Del Toro’s “Frankenstein”: 9 Reasons Why You’ll Need a Bigger Screen

Frankenstein Movie Poster 2025 displayed outside a theater at night. The monster is a gangly tatterdemalion behind the logo and the logline "Only Monsters Play God".

Now showing at a theater near few!

Midlife Crisis Crossover Calls Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein One of the Year’s Best Filmsâ„¢!

Once again the Academy Award Winner has collaborated with Netflix after the previous successes of his animated version of Pinocchio, his Cabinet of Curiosities anthology miniseries, and the Trollhunters stuff I never looked into. Frankenstein was clearly one of the highest ranking dream projects on his wish list, fulfilled at last with a noticeably enormous budget, a stellar cast, his most lavish production design ever, and a too-brief theatrical exhibition before the November 7th relegation to its forever-home in the app’s small-screen back-catalog cellar.

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The Heartland International Film Festival 2025 Season Finale

balcony view of a movie screen down below. Onscreen is a pic of Emily Deschanel and two producers, encouraging viewers to become a Heartland member. Walls around screen are glowing green and have large icons of film reels.

Our Sunday night view from the balcony of the Tobias Theater at Newfields. The slideshow still is from last year’s world premiere of ReEntry.

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:

It’s that time again! Since 1992 my hometown of Indianapolis has presented the Heartland International Film Festival, a multi-day, multi-theater celebration of cinema held every October. Local moviegoers have the opportunity to see over a hundred new works in the realms of documentaries, narrative features, shorts, and animation made across multiple continents from myriad points of the human experience. Some participants stop in Indy on their grand tour of Hollywood’s festival circuit; some are local productions on shoestring budgets; and a wide spectrum of claims are staked in the innumerable niches between, projects with well-known actors screening alongside indies with enormous hearts.

This’ll be my third year diving in and seeing more than just a single entrant. Heartland’s 34th edition runs October 9-19, for which I’ve made plans to catch at least six films in all (Lord willing) — maybe more if time permits…

Once again I took a week’s vacation from my day job and posted for eight consecutive days about the six films I saw at three theaters in nine days, one virtual screening we’ll get to in a moment, plus a few other entries that included still another movie, albeit more of an anti-Heartland studio product that opened the same weekend. I doubt anyone out there read every single word, but I’m not even done yet!

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Heartland Film Festival 2025: “Nuremberg”

Russell Crowe faces off against Rami Malek while Leo Woodall stands in the background.

Zeus vs. Freddie Mercury! TWO GODS ENTER! ONE GOD LEAVES!

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:

It’s that time again! Since 1992 my hometown of Indianapolis has presented the Heartland International Film Festival, a multi-day, multi-theater celebration of cinema held every October. Local moviegoers have the opportunity to see over a hundred new works in the realms of documentaries, narrative features, shorts, and animation made across multiple continents from myriad points of the human experience. Some participants stop in Indy on their grand tour of Hollywood’s festival circuit; some are local productions on shoestring budgets; and a wide spectrum of claims are staked in the innumerable niches between, projects with well-known actors screening alongside indies with enormous hearts.

This’ll be my third year diving in and seeing more than just a single entrant. Heartland’s 34th edition runs October 9-19, for which I’ve made plans to catch at least six films in all (Lord willing) — maybe more if time permits…

Our final theatrical screening of the festival, and their official Closing Night selection, was also the very first entrant I bought tickets for, based on a single selling point: Academy Award Winner Russell Crowe IS Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring IN Nuremberg! And that must be announced or imagined in the deepest possible Epic Voice Guy voice or else why bother.

Same as with the Academy Awards, World War II and the Holocaust are common subjects in Heartland selections, for reasons tragically obvious to anyone who’s seen enough of them and nevertheless supports the important, evergreen “Never Forget” message behind them. Nuremberg wasn’t the only such film on the docket, but it was certainly the highest-profile one. Its writer/director James Vanderbilt has worked on numerous big-budget crowd-pleasers (the last three Screams and both Amazing Spider-Mans, among others) and recruited a strong ensemble to tell this particular story, of which the indisputable highlight is — for those just joining us — Maximus himself as Göring, the bombastic narcissist and highest-ranking Nazi still alive after the war, the sort of boo-able real-life Kingpin in more ways than one, whose every move and every haughty gaze was like a steamroller through every room he entered.

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Heartland Film Festival 2025: “Blue Moon”

Andrew Scott in a tuxedo, one foot taller than Ethan Hawke in a 1940s suit. Both stand in a bar, staring through us at an offscreen woman.

Super-Villain Team-Up presents Moriarty and The Grabber!

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:

It’s that time again! Since 1992 my hometown of Indianapolis has presented the Heartland International Film Festival, a multi-day, multi-theater celebration of cinema held every October. Local moviegoers have the opportunity to see over a hundred new works in the realms of documentaries, narrative features, shorts, and animation made across multiple continents from myriad points of the human experience. Some participants stop in Indy on their grand tour of Hollywood’s festival circuit; some are local productions on shoestring budgets; and a wide spectrum of claims are staked in the innumerable niches between, projects with well-known actors screening alongside indies with enormous hearts.

This’ll be my third year diving in and seeing more than just a single entrant. Heartland’s 34th edition runs October 9-19, for which I’ve made plans to catch at least six films in all (Lord willing) — maybe more if time permits…

Next up is Blue Moon, the twelfth film I’ve seen by prolific director Richard Linklater. His last joint, the true-story dramedy Hit Man, was among my favorites last year. Though his subjects vary wildly from one to the next, his films and their ensembles always have their laid-back charms, so invitingly that you don’t feel time passing because you’re enjoying the conversations so much…even when the loudest guy in the room is blissfully unaware that everyone else is aware of his problems.

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Heartland Film Festival 2025: “It Was Just an Accident”

An Iranian auto mechanic sits in his van in the middle of the desert, smoking and thinking. Not far away are a body-sized hole he's dug and a discarded shovel.

CAUTION: Rated NC-45 for scenes of smoking.

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:

It’s that time again! Since 1992 my hometown of Indianapolis has presented the Heartland International Film Festival, a multi-day, multi-theater celebration of cinema held every October. Local moviegoers have the opportunity to see over a hundred new works in the realms of documentaries, narrative features, shorts, and animation made across multiple continents from myriad points of the human experience. Some participants stop in Indy on their grand tour of Hollywood’s festival circuit; some are local productions on shoestring budgets; and a wide spectrum of claims are staked in the innumerable niches between, projects with well-known actors screening alongside indies with enormous hearts.

This’ll be my third year diving in and seeing more than just a single entrant. Heartland’s 34th edition runs October 9-19, for which I’ve made plans to catch at least six films in all (Lord willing) — maybe more if time permits…

Our next film is Heartland’s sold-out “International Centerpiece Screening” of It Was Just an Accident, which has been building buzz online among pro critics in the days leading up to its limited release in the largest U.S. markets this week. It’s rare for a small foreign film to open in Indy the same weekend as it does in NYC and L.A., so it’s nice that Heartland provides such occasions for us to feel like we count as a Major City by Hollywood distribution definitions.

The latest from writer/director/producer Jafar Panahi isn’t the first time he’s shot a film in his native Iran entirely without the government’s permission. The same held true for previous films such as This Is Not a Film and No Bears, not to mention some of his earlier ones that were made “legally” only to be banned later. A suspended prison already hangs over his head, but he still has plenty more to say through his art.

Full disclosure: after seeing Accident but before sitting down to collect my own thoughts, I read Vulture.com’s new interview with him, which contained a wealth of fascinating information. Anything in this entry that resembles Fun Trivia comes from their article.

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Heartland Film Festival 2025: “Happy Birthday”

A middle-aged woman and a tiny girl at the counter of a brightly lit bakery, where the chef is icing a cake.

Last-minute birthday cake shopping: kind of a headache in every country.

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:

It’s that time again! Since 1992 my hometown of Indianapolis has presented the Heartland International Film Festival, a multi-day, multi-theater celebration of cinema held every October. Local moviegoers have the opportunity to see over a hundred new works in the realms of documentaries, narrative features, shorts, and animation made across multiple continents from myriad points of the human experience. Some participants stop in Indy on their grand tour of Hollywood’s festival circuit; some are local productions on shoestring budgets; and a wide spectrum of claims are staked in the innumerable niches between, projects with well-known actors screening alongside indies with enormous hearts.

This’ll be my third year diving in and seeing more than just a single entrant. Heartland’s 34th edition runs October 9-19, for which I’ve made plans to catch at least six films in all (Lord willing) — maybe more if time permits…

As someone who watches every Marvel Cinematic Universe installment for better or worse, I’ve found it interesting to see what filmmakers do next after they’ve done their time in the machine. Sometimes they move on to equally gargantuan pop-culture universes (The Mandalorian, Superman). Sometimes they have a ball in their own sandboxes (Sinners, Wolfs). Sometimes they give the impression Marvel broke their brains (The Gray Man, Fast X). Sometimes they step back from Hollywood excess and find fulfillment in smaller works (Next Goal Wins, the upcoming Hamnet).

Case in point: our next film, Happy Birthday — Egypt’s official submission for Best International Feature at the next Academy Awards — comes to us from the talents of writer/director Sarah Goher, who was on the writing staff of Moon Knight, and her co-writer and longtime creative partner Mohamed Diab, who directed four of the show’s six episodes. (Two other writers receive a “Story By” credit, but as of today I can’t verify their names online for some reason.) Its total budget was probably less than what they paid the VFX team in charge of rendering Khonshu’s skull, but sometimes an indie film is just as capable, if not more so, of slipping through your jaded defenses with its sincerity right before it breaks your heart.

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Yes, There’s a Scene During the “Tron: Ares” End Credits

Jared Leto in black and red CGI armor. The glass faceplate retracted partially to reveal his face. Everything around him is red lines.

In a better film we’d see Morbius evolve into Morpheus and leave the Grid for the Matrix.

When I was 10, the original Tron was one of the last films I saw at the Westlake Drive-In before it closed a month later. I remember being bored, my typical response to a lot of Disney live-action, and got more fun out of the 4-in-1 arcade game even though some malls charged double to play it (i.e., fifty whole cents, a ripoff at the time). My son was a teenager when we saw Tron: Legacy and quickly forgot most of it, though the action sequences were impressive enough that I noted fledgling director Joseph Kosinski’s name before he went on to bigger, better works. In between those wobbly goalposts, Nine Inch Nails’ 1989 debut Pretty Hate Machine was in heavy rotation in my various high school cassette players, so a young Trent Reznor’s industrial synth-metal assaults hold a certain place in my pop-culture heart even though I haven’t kept up with his later, lesser albums. (Fun trivia: Reznor and I share a birthday!)

Nostalgia isn’t an automatic drug of choice for me, but sometimes I’ll play along with its corporate pushers just to see what they think might get me high by injecting my own liquefied childhood into my eyeballs. Fifteen years later Disney has turned Tron‘s CPU off and back on again to install its latest IP expansion pack Tron: Ares, whose marketing tries awfully hard to target Gen-X as if anyone my age yearned for this to be a trilogy to save on our DVD shelves until we die and our beneficiaries give all our boxed sets to Goodwill. The thin dimensional boundaries between video games and the real world have been breached quite a bit since 1982 (Wreck-It Ralph! Pixels! Ready Player One!), to say nothing of invasions from their kid cousin Virtual Reality (from The Lawnmower Man on up), so really, what’s Tron have to offer besides grasping for an extended warranty on its own obsolescence?

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Heartland Film Festival 2025: “Christy” with Bonus Live Q&A!

Female boxer with messy brown hair, red gloves, white mouthpiece and all-white outfit standing proudly in the ring and kinda roaring.

For anyone who was really hoping Spider-Woman would get to punch someone in Madame Web, have we got great news for you!

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:

It’s that time again! Since 1992 my hometown of Indianapolis has presented the Heartland International Film Festival, a multi-day, multi-theater celebration of cinema held every October. Local moviegoers have the opportunity to see over a hundred new works in the realms of documentaries, narrative features, shorts, and animation made across multiple continents from myriad points of the human experience. Some participants stop in Indy on their grand tour of Hollywood’s festival circuit; some are local productions on shoestring budgets; and a wide spectrum of claims are staked in the innumerable niches between, projects with well-known actors screening alongside indies with enormous hearts.

This’ll be my third year diving in and seeing more than just a single entrant. Heartland’s 34th edition runs October 9-19, for which I’ve made plans to catch at least six films in all (Lord willing) — maybe more if time permits…

Next up on the list is Christy, a biopic based on the true story of welterweight champion Christy Martin, the first female boxer ever to grace the cover of Sports Illustrated. Longtime MCC readers know sports aren’t usually my thing (the Creed trilogy doesn’t count because, uh, reasons!), but when time permits I do keep an ear open whenever buzz builds for potential future Oscar nominees. Quite a few actresses have endured the ritual of severe deglamorization For Your Oscar Consideration — toughening up, radically altering their physique, shedding their Instagrammable hairstyles, letting costume designers embarrass them, and in a preponderance of cases wrangling a thick southern accent. Sydney Sweeney, best known for such TV series as Euphoria and the first season of The White Lotus, takes a break from playing rich women with beauty regimens to explore that transformational career option.

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Heartland Film Festival 2025: “The Invisible Half”

Movie poster of a half-Japanese girl with a white baseball bat standing in front of a giant mummy head that has an earbud cord wrapped around it. The earbuds are bloodied.

Funny how wearing lots of bandages always means “scary monster” and not “victim receiving the care they sorely needed”.

It’s that time again! Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: since 1992 my hometown of Indianapolis has presented the Heartland International Film Festival, a multi-day, multi-theater celebration of cinema held every October. Local moviegoers have the opportunity to see over a hundred new works in the realms of documentaries, narrative features, shorts, and animation made across multiple continents from myriad points of the human experience. Some participants stop in Indy on their grand tour of Hollywood’s festival circuit; some are local productions on shoestring budgets; and a wide spectrum of claims are staked in the innumerable niches between, projects with well-known actors screening alongside indies with enormous hearts.

This’ll be my third year diving in and seeing more than just a single entrant. I enjoyed much of what I saw in 2024, though some of my picks have yet to find distribution to this day. Those few that did kinda came and went without much fanfare. The most “prestigious” film I saw, Small Things Like These, at least went well enough for its makers that star Cillian Murphy and director Tim Mielants reunited for Steve, which just hit Netflix earlier this month. (Highly recommended, by the way.) Numerous other Heartland entries showed up on Oscar ballots, but I failed to catch them at the festival proper. (Eventually I saw Heartland veterans Flow and The Seed of the Sacred Fig, to name a couple.) I’ll be curious to see what happens to this year’s alumni in the months ahead.

Heartland’s 34th edition runs October 9-19, for which I’ve made plans to catch at least six films in all (Lord willing) — maybe more if time permits. Longtime MCC readers know the rule: every film I see in theaters gets its own entry, no matter how big or little. We kick things off with one of the only three horror films in the lineup (a genre HIFF has only opened up to within the past few years), and among this year’s few Asian ones: The Invisible Half, in which we learn Japanese teenagers are no more well-adjusted than ours are.

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Yes, There’s a Tribute After the “One Battle After Another” End Credits

Benicio Del Toro hands a rifle in its storage bag to Leonardo DiCaprio, who looks like a frazzled mountain man with expensive sunglasses.

“Help yourself to a sniper rifle.”

“THE NEW PAUL THOMAS ANDERSON IS THE GREATEST FILM OF OUR TIMES AND CAPTURES THE ZEITGEIST LIKE EGON SPENGLER WITH A GHOST TRAP!” screams the internet consensus for One Battle After Another, as pro critics tend to every time they’ve seen a new Anderson film at least three times at festivals. I’ve only seen six of his films (counting this one) and responded to There Will Be Blood with that sort of awe. The rest varied for me — Phantom Thread was an intriguing battle of repressed wills, but I couldn’t connect with his California ode Licorice Pizza. His tenth feature, Battle is an effectively pulse-pounding thriller that’s exactly the sort of antihero conflict I do enjoy — call it “bad guys vs. worse guys” — but somehow I thought it’d be much more complicated than it actually is. Maybe that’s on me for declining to remain Extremely Online these days.

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“The Long Walk”: The World’s Deadliest Walk-and-Talk

Orange, black and white shot of a bunch of guys walking at night, accompanied by military vehicles with bright headlights.

A moonlit stroll with a mounting death toll.

Rare are the harmonic convergences when at least two excellent Stephen King adaptations reach theaters within the same calendar year. I’m still upset everyone slept on the heart-melting sci-fi sweetness of The Life of Chuck (admittedly I’ve skipped The Monkey for now), but I can understand the muted turnout for the survival-horror bloodsport of The Long Walk. If I might understate to a subterranean degree: these past two weeks perhaps weren’t the best time for moviegoers to come out and watch young men be gunned down helplessly before their very eyes.

(Then again, when’s a good time for that anymore?)

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“Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale”: And They All Lived Even MORE Happily Ever After

The "upstairs" cast of "Downton Abbey" at a racetrack watching horses run offscnree, or perhaps something more interesting.

Our Heroes stunned by an unladylike voice in the next section screaming, “COME ON, DOVER! MOVE YER BLOOMIN’ ARSE!”

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: my wife Anne and I are Downton Abbey fans! We’ve seen all six seasons and three movies, most of which she had to annotate for me at length because, as longtime MCC readers know, she’s a history aficionado who can speak on such matters for hours uninterrupted, while I’m a chronic history-deficiency sufferer who needs to be fed very large Vitamin H supplements during and after every period-piece viewing. In exchange, she doesn’t yawn in my face whenever I natter on after every Marvel or DC production about what they changed from the comics.

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The First Rule of Weapons Club Is You Do Not Talk About “Weapons”

Julia Garner peeking through open curtains from outside into a darkened house.

Folks who haven’t seen it yet, peering in through the internet redaction boxes.

How do you discuss a movie without ruining it when its greatest pleasure is the element of surprise? Maybe you just…don’t?

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Yes, There’s a Scene After “The Naked Gun” End Credits

Theater lobby standee with Liam Neeson in character groping at Pamela Anderson with five different hands while brandishing his gun with a sixth.

The long arm of the law takes a more hands-on approach.

Sure, laughter is fun, but the more pop culture fractured into separate camps over the decades, the less everyone could agree on what was funny. TV sitcoms and the rise of the internet in the 2000s — when we all took turns giving away laughs for free, high on the power of free expression — met my daily chuckle-quota while American filmgoers voted for Jim Carrey, Adam Sandler, the diminishing returns of other SNLers, and Hollywood’s slowly mutated “wisdom” that comedies absolutely had to be R-rated F-bomb barrages because those, they thought, were funnier than actual jokes, despite entire decades’ worth of classic examples that worked just fine without them. Yadda yadda yadda, comedy disappeared from cinemas, except as a secondary component in incessantly quippy blockbusters.

In my childhood the epitome of comedy in any medium was Airplane!: The Movie, that goofy parody of ’70s airport-disaster dramas whose quick-witted reflexes and nonstop Easter-egg sight gags would be embedded in the DNA of The Simpsons and all the other hyper-accelerated comic works since. The skewing of dialogue clichés and the perfectly straight-faced delivery of the most dreadful puns in the world were a tremendous joy, though as a long-term consequence it would become an intrinsic link in the evolutionary chain leading to today’s “Dad Jokes”. For a time I was a disciple to its hilarity-trinity of directors David and Jerry Zucker and Jim Abrahams. Eventually they parted ways and went on to make their own separate comedies with varying degrees of hit-or-miss. David Zucker kept on spoofing longer than the other two until diminishing returns set in as he got older. (His last time in a director’s chair was a 2008 conservative lampoon of Michael Moore called An American Carol, which Zucker’s recent interviewers chose not to bring up.)

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Yes, There Are Scenes During and After “The Fantastic Four: First Steps” End Credits

Fantastic Four cast in movie costumes, just standing and staring. Big blue 4 logo takes up the wall behind them.

The World’s Greatest Comic Magazineâ„¢, now in theaters!

Critics call The Fantastic Four: First Steps the Greatest FF Film of All Time! It’s a low bar to crawl over, but it’s a relief Marvel didn’t smack themselves in the face with that particular rake again.

After Tim Story’s two earnest but awkward sitcom episodes and Josh Trank’s grimdark body-horror take — whose second half was amputated and replaced with prosthetic superheroics (and which “celebrates” its tenth anniversary next month) — most of us had given up on seeing Stan Lee and Jack Kirby’s greatest co-creation writ large on the big screen without half-baked compromises of what makes these intrepid scientist-adventurers tick. We settled for key cameos in the second Doctor Strange and Deadpool & Wolverine, but those tongue-in-cheek callbacks only gave us one member apiece sans the Richards’ dynamic. Writing solo comic relief is easy; writing affectionate, super-powered teamwork is hard, unless you’re Brad Bird paying homage with The Incredibles.

If we disqualify Roger Corman’s unreleased zero-budget fan-film available only as a bootleg (and for a reason), then fourth (ha!) time’s the charm as the First Family has been wrested from its former Fox overlords and eased into the Marvel Cinematic Universe via gentle alternate-Earth reboot courtesy of director Matt Shakman, who handled the amazing WandaVision but whose only previous feature, 2014’s barely existent Cut Bank, made less than 300 grand worldwide. Working with at least five different screenwriters (including Sarah Connor Chronicles showrunner Josh Friedman and Thunderbolts co-writer Eric Pearson), Shakman understandably kept the odds of success manageable by revisiting Lee and Kirby’s FF #48-50, the original Galactus Saga, which Story’s 2007 sequel Rise of the Silver Surfer bungled. Last time a classic non-origin comics tale was adapted twice to film, the end result was the abjectly time-wasting Dark Phoenix.

Thankfully First Steps avoids Rise‘s mistakes and not only better recaptures the essence (e.g., not making Galactus a hungry space cloud) but elevates Our Heroes’ comeback into grandiose science-fiction myth-making of the sort that comics used to do best, on a level meant to inspire our broken world even while barely resembling it. Among its many idealistic propositions: sure, everyone loves found families in movies and TV, but what if just once in modern times the day were saved by an actual family-family? Plus Dad’s best friend as honorary Fun Uncle?

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