Arco: Insufferably weird and unstructured

Arco (2025) • View trailer

Two stars (out of five); rated PG, and much too generously, for bleak dramatic intensity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang 

Every year, it seems obligatory that one of the Oscar-nominated animated feature films is preposterously bizarre and unsatisfying, having attracted attention solely because of the way it looks.

 

When Arco attempts to fly without benefit of his crucial time-traveling gemstone, Iris
supplies the necessary weather conditions by blending the day's bright sunlight with
water spray from sprinklers and her hose nozzle. The result ... leaves much to be desired.

If imagination and visual razzle-dazzle were all that mattered, then this one would indeed deserve some of its many accolades.

But there’s the not-inconsequential matter of story, in which department this feature from French co-directors Ugo Bienvenu and Gilles Cazaux comes up seriously short.

 

In interviews, Bienvenu has admitted constructing Arco from a series of hand-drawn sketches, rather than a script.

 

That’s blindingly obvious, because — in terms of narrative — this film often is an incomprehensible and impenetrable mess. Additionally, its tone veers wildly from serious ecological cautionary tale, to bumbling slapstick farce. Those two don’t play well together.

 

Bienvenu shares scripting credit — such as it is — with Félix de Givry.

 

In the distant future — sources differ on 2932 or 3000, but neither is mentioned during the film — people live on circular, open-air platforms that jut out, like branches, from immense towers. Those are anchored on Earth somewhere far below, beneath an all-encompassing blanket of concealing clouds. 

 

Mention is made that this is “the great fallow,” intended to “let the Earth rest.” We assume some sort of ecological disaster, never specified.

 

Each family’s adult members periodically travel back in time, returning with single examples of a fruit, vegetable or spice, which are gene-sequenced and replicated, so that everybody can have lush gardens. Individuals traveling in this manner — which can take place only during a combination of rain and sunlight — leave a rainbow in their wake.

 

Animals never are mentioned, and (apparently) nobody has pets. But birds are in abundance, and people can talk to them (!).

 

The colorful animation style at times evokes Hayao Miyazaki, but his films always contain a cheerful warmth that’s utterly lacking in this cold, clinical, brooding story.

 

People sleep suspended in mid-air, under an anti-gravity light, in uniform-style pajamas and no blankets (which, frankly looks neither comfortable nor cozy).

Hoppers: Absolutely fabulous

Hoppers (2026) • View trailer

Five stars (out of five); rated PG, for dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.8.26

I didn’t think Pixar ever would top 2015’s marvelous Inside Out, with its clever blend of humor, pathos and gentle social commentary, wrapped into a wildly imaginative premise.

 

Having unknowingly violated the all-encompassing "pond rules" that govern this diverse
collection of animals, Mabel — her mind currently occupying the body of the cute
robotic beaver about to become a bear's lunch — is brought before the community's king.

But director Daniel Chong and co-writer Jesse Andrews have done the seemingly impossible: Pixar’s newest entry is even better. Proof positive, once again, that some of today’s best original scripts are attached to animated films.

You’ll laugh, cry, nod and marvel at this film’s similarly ingenious story, which also contains a slyly subversive message.

 

A brief prologue introduces animal-loving Mabel (voiced by Piper Curda) as an adolescent, during a failed attempt to free her school’s numerous classroom pets from their dismal lives of relentless poking and prodding. Banished for the rest of the day, then dumped into the sympathetic embrace of her beloved Grandma Tanaka (Karen Huie), the angry, humiliated little girl can’t understand why people don’t realize she was doing a good thing.

 

 Grandma Tanaka walks her to a large rock in a tranquil glade, which overlooks a pond.

 

“Be still,” her grandmother instructs. “Listen ... and watch.”

 

The silence soon is broken by bird songs and the hum of insects. The foliage rustles, as deer walk past; beavers happily work on the large dam that has created this pond.

 

The moment is magical, transformational. Many more such visits follow.

 

The story then flashes forward. Mabel, now 19, is an equally impassioned college student who constantly locks horns with Beaverton’s grandstanding, development-obsessed “Mayor Jerry” (Jon Hamm). He’s promoting his re-election bid with the promise of a new stretch of overhead highway that’ll improve commute time “by minutes.”

 

The final portion also will destroy Mabel’s beloved glade, along with its many wonderful memories. Mayor Jerry can get away with this, because the pond, dam and its wildlife — particularly the beavers — are long gone.

 

Mayor Jerry taunts Mabel, giving her 48 hours to somehow lure the beavers back, knowing full well that’s impossible.

 

Savvy viewers will wonder why all the animals left.

H Is for Hawk: Deeply moving

H Is for Hawk (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five); rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity and occasional profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

In the spring of 2007, as a means of coping with her grief after the sudden death of her beloved father — with whom she shared many interests, most notably birding — 27-year-old Cambridge research fellow Helen Macdonald purchased a young Eurasian goshawk, intending to train it.

 

Having spent weeks (months?) training her goshawk to trust her, and respond to
commands, Helen (Claire Foy) prepares to let the bird loose for its first outdoor kill.

Although impulsive, this wasn’t an entirely foolish act; Macdonald had been flying falcons, alongside her father, since adolescence. But goshawks are notoriously vicious, volatile and savage: almost impossible to train.

Macdonald ultimately recounted her experience in an award-winning 2014 memoir which became a best-seller within a fortnight.

 

Her saga now has become a deeply poignant, emotionally shattering and unexpectedly exhilarating film — of the same title — under the careful direction of Philippa Lowthorpe, who shares scripting credit with Emma Donoghue. MacDonald is brought to life via a remarkably nuanced performance by Claire Foy, who runs a gamut of emotions during this saga.

 

We barely meet Helen’s father, longtime Daily Mirror photojournalist Alisdair Macdonald (Brendan Gleeson), before Claire — while at Cambridge — receives word that he died unexpectedly, while on assignment. Gathered alongside her mother (Lindsay Duncan) and brother James (Josh Dylan) in a funeral parlor, their mourning is briefly overcome by incredulous, shared laughter when the agent suggests a decorated “themed coffin.”

 

(This tacky, tone-deaf moment is Lowthorpe’s sole dose of macabre comic relief. I cringed at the notion that this actually may have occurred.)

 

Back at Cambridge, unable to focus on teaching, or finishing her fellowship — or even worrying about where she’ll live if she doesn’t finish — Claire decides that embracing an impossible challenge is the only way to endure getting through each day. Longtime friend and fellow falconer Stuart (Sam Spruell) thinks she’s crazy; goshawks are “the wildest and maddest of raptors ... the perfectly evolved psychopath.”

 

“Don’t even think about it,” he further cautions, “certainly not in your state.”

Dead of Winter: Great start, deplorable finish

Dead of Winter (2025) • View trailer

Three stars (out of five); rated R, for violence and profanity

Available via: HBO MAX

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.1.26

Between this film and her recent starring role in the British miniseries adaptation of Mick Herron’s Down Cemetery Road, Emma Thompson appears to be staking a place in the action thriller genre.

 

Having been spotted by a pair of desperate and deranged kidnappers — one of whom
expertly wields a rifle — Barb (Emma Thompson) does her best to hide.

But whereas her character in that miniseries is a scrappy private investigator, her role here is strictly ordinary ... if perhaps more resourceful than most.

Director Brian Kirk’s brooding, atmospheric drama gets its suspenseful heft from a cleverly structured original script by Nicholas Jacobson-Larson and Dalton Leeb. Thompson handles the starring role with total persuasion; she’s one of a handful of talented actors who can fill even mundane bits of business with complex theatrical heft.

 

Barb (Thompson) is introduced as she begins a new day, in the isolated, snowbound wilderness of northern Minnesota. Her movements and behavior bespeak countless mornings just like this, but today somehow feels a bit different; her features suggest sorrow.

 

Her home is adjacent to a bait-and-tackle store that is closed for the winter; both are within easy driving distance of nearby Lake Hilda ... and, indeed, she loads supplies into her truck and heads in that direction. Before leaving the house, she snatches a treasured Polaroid photograph — we can’t quite make it out — and clips it to one of the truck’s interior visors.

 

But it’s a wretched day, with a blizzard warning; attempting to get anywhere, in the midst of such extreme weather, seems the height of recklessness. Why would someone experienced with such an environment, risk making such a trip?

 

Ah, but Barb has an excellent reason ... which we don’t learn about, until the third act.

 

(This Minnesota setting notwithstanding, filming took place in Koli, Finland, and Germany’s North Rhine-Westphalia ... where, presumably, the snow and frozen lake conditions were more reliable.)

 

A faint sound, en route to the lake, piques her curiosity; she follows it to a cabin, where a man (Marc Menchaca) is chopping firewood. Startled, he demands to know what she wants. Sensing something amiss, Barb changes tack and — feigning unfamiliarity — asks for directions to the lake. 

 

Somewhat pacified, he answers; Barb departs. But she notices fresh dapples of blood on the snow in front of the cabin.

Is This Thing On? — A captivating ensemble piece

Is This Thing On? (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R for sexual candor, drug use and frequent profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

Relationships, like laptops, sometimes need to hit Reset.

 

Director Bradley Cooper’s thoughtful, unhurried character study opens on a close-up of Alex Novak (Will Arnett), present solely in body, as a parent at a school activity being thoroughly enjoyed by a gaggle of kids that includes adolescent sons Felix (Blake Kane) and Jude (Calvin Knegten).

 

At one point, as their marriage unravels, Alex (Will Arnett) is surprised by the intensity
with which Tess (Laura Dern) angrily laments missing the happier, more
spontaneous person that he once was.

Alex scarcely pays attention, his head leaning against a wall, eyes staring into nonethingness, expression a blend of disinterest, resignation and helplessness.

He knows — as we soon learn — that this is the last such event he and wife Tess (Laura Dern) will attend as a couple. “This isn’t working,” they’ve mutually agreed ... “this” being the American dream of a home, two kids, two lovably large dogs (Charlie and Lucy) and a successful career (his days occupied by something “in finance”).

 

The unspoken middle-age crossroads finds them flailing.

 

Alex soon will move into an apartment, as a “trial separation,” but they haven’t told anybody yet: not their friends, not his parents, and certainly not their sons. This school event, followed by a regular game night with friends — Christine (Andra Day) and the aptly nicknamed Balls (Cooper); and Stephen (Sean Hayes) and Geoffrey (Scott Icenogle) — will be Alex and Tess’ final hurrah.

 

The group conversation is lively; Alex occasionally smiles and nods, but he clearly isn’t paying attention. He isn’t present in the moment. Cinematographer Matthew Libatique favors tight close-ups, which amplify Arnett’s vacuous, forlorn expression.

 

Balls — typically late to arrive, typically stoned — trips on a carpet coming in, dumping an entire carton of milk.

 

“Don’t cry over spilt milk,” Tess says (a line that’s a bit too on the nose). It becomes clear that her cheerfulness is a pose that occasionally evaporates, exposing ... something. Disappointment? Anger? Certainly not relief.

 

All this aside, during the next few days Alex and Tess are sensitive to their sons’ reactions and needs; both boys, in their feature acting debuts, deliver heartfelt and refreshingly natural performances under Cooper’s careful guidance.

The 2026 Oscar Shorts: Good things in small packages

The Oscar Shorts (2026) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Unrated, akin to a PG-13 for occasional dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 2.22.26

This year’s batch of Academy Award-nominated animation and live-action shorts is much more entertaining than those from the past several years.

The animated entries aren’t visually weird or off-putting, and the live-action entries aren’t unrelentingly depressing. The overall “mood mix” is varied, with a pleasant balance of serious, gently moral and laugh-out-loud amusing.

 

That said, one live-action entry is quite bizarre ... and we’ll get to that.

 

Starting with animation, I’ve always been impressed by filmmakers who tell their stories without dialogue, making them immediately approachable to viewers throughout the world. Two of this year’s entries take that approach.

 

U.S. writer/directors Nathan Engelhardt and Jeremy Spears deliver a fascinating blend of carved wood elements and CGI in Forevergreen, a charming little tale about an orphaned bear cub “adopted” by a fatherly tree. Their bond is strong until the bear reaches young adulthood, at which point it’s tempted by the allure of easy human food: something the wise, long-lived tree knows could be dangerous.

 

This film’s overall look is enchanting. Engelhardt and Spears wanted their bear to be “tree-like,” to strengthen the viewer’s impression of their rapport; the gentle CGI elements definitely deliver that emotional note.

 

This 13-minute film’s conclusion is a heart-tugger, so be prepared.

 

Russian director Konstantin Bronzit’s The Three Sisters employs classic, hand-drawn 2D animation, in an exaggerated style that enhances his story’s broadly comic elements. (No, this has nothing to do with Chekhov.) Three devout sisters live a quiet life on a barren, isolated island that pokes out of the ocean like the upper half of a beach ball.

 

Supplies are delivered periodically by boat; the women pay with coins from a carefully guarded purse, which — horrors! — one day falls into the sea. Now forced to earn money by renting out one of their homes, the dynamic shifts abruptly when the new lodger turns out to be a grizzled fellow as coarse as they are delicate.

 

Except they don’t stay that way, once they vie for his attention...

 

This core story is hilarious enough on its own, but Bronzit adds plenty of droll sight gags that are even funnier, thanks to his animation style.

 

Crime 101: Slick and suspenseful

Crime 101 (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for violence, sexual candor, brief nudity and plenty of profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

This is a solid, methodical crime thriller, very much in the mold of classics such as 1971’s The French Connection, 2010’s The Town, and director Michael Mann’s Heat (1995) and Collateral (2004).

 

During their first date, Maya (Monica Barbaro) becomes increasingly puzzled when
Mike (Chris Hemsworth) is unable — or unwilling — to share personal details about
his childhood, friends and family members.

Director/scripter Bart Layton delivers a similarly clinical, semi-detached atmosphere, along with an intriguing roster of characters, each deftly portrayed by the excellent ensemble cast. Layton also benefits from his source material: the 2021 novella by respected crime author Don Winslow.

The best line from that novella, which firmly establishes the milieu in which these individuals operate: “Laws are made to be broken, with rules that are made to be followed.”

 

The on-screen result is a treat.

 

Layton doesn’t waste time with any back-story. We briefly meet our three primary characters as each greets a new day: Mike Davis (Chris Hemsworth), cool, calm and collected; Sharon Coombs (Halle Berry), exhausted from another night of fitful sleep; and Lou Lubesnick (Mark Ruffalo), rumpled, flustered and unhappy.

 

Matters then focus on Mike, as he begins another of his precision-planned heists of jewels being transported to underworld buyers. He intercepts and takes the place of a guard, which grants him access to the actual transfer point, orchestrated by the shady jeweler (Payman Maadi, as Sammy Kassem). Davis brandishes a gun, sufficient to frighten everyone into cooperation; clearly, variations of this approach have succeeded many times before.

 

But this time things go slightly awry, because an intermediary brought along a younger, unseasoned companion who behaves rashly.

 

Clearly shaken, Mike nonetheless keeps his rendezvous with his fence and “sponsor,” known only as Money (Nick Nolte). They discuss Mike’s next scoped-out job, involving the robbery of a posh Santa Barbara jewelry store. But Mike has had second thoughts, concerned by too many variables.

 

Meanwhile, high-end claims adjuster Sharon Coombs (Halle Berry), dressed to kill, is doing her best to sweet-talk über-rich Beverly Hills asshole Monroe (Tate Donovan) into allowing her company to insure and protect all the flagrantly expensive elements of his upcoming marriage to his trophy fiancée, Adrienne (Andra Nechita). 

 

Sharon has long been promised partnership at her firm, but she’s beginning to realize that her smarmy boss, Mark (Paul Adelstein), has been dangling this hope while using her as glamorous “bait” on wealthy clients. And, on the north end of 50, Sharon worries that she may be reaching her sell-by date … particularly when Mark augments his team with a much younger cutie.

 

When Kassem calls the police; Lou catches the case with his partner, Tillman (Corey Hawkins). Recognizing the modus operandi, Lou is convinced that this is the latest job by the same individual responsible for a couple dozen earlier, similar heists, all of them committed at stores along the 101 freeway. But he’s alone is this belief, and his ongoing obsession has diminished the respect he once possessed, as a capable investigator.

 

Lou is an old-style cop, who trusts his instincts and believes in following even the tiniest of leads. This attitude has made him a dinosaur, increasingly at odds with a boss who prefers clearing cases off the department ledgers, to actually solving who perpetrated them.