ObsessiveCinemaDisorder

The Order is a crime thriller that provides a fascinating close-up study of white supremacists through the lens of an otherwise standard cops and robbers fare.

Based on a true story, FBI agent Terry Husk is assigned to take down a white supremacist terrorist group known as The Order in the 1980s. The group has committed multiple robberies to fund their plan to overthrow the government and start a race war.

Director Justin Kurzel provides brilliant genre-bending moments, like a scene where the hero and villain chit-chat under false pretenses and an instance of "why didn't he shoot his gun?" that was chilling.

The cast gives strong performances that all match the gritty, introspective tone of the film. They're all holding their emotions for the lingering camera, to allow the audience to look into them.

Jude Law as the FBI agent breaks the seams of what a police hothead is like in movies, and presents what they would be like in real life. A hothead police officer oozes coolness onscreen, but in actuality, what they're doing is quite dangerous and downright stupid in real life.

Nicholas Hoult plays Bob Matthews, the real-life leader of The Order, as a fact. It's chilling how normal the character is. He has a family, is a leader in his community, and gives people jobs... but he's doing it to start a race war.

As good as the performances were, the script doesn't provide enough character nuances for the film to rise above its police procedural constrictions. Imagine Michael Mann's Heat with half the character development before the climactic showdown.

What's most memorable about The Order is that it allows the audience to be in the environment and lets us examine their ideology up close.

It's fascinating and eye-opening, observing how people build as a community on a bent thought, farming hate, until it turns into violence.

Robert Egger's remake of Nosferatu has all the ingredients of being a modern horror classic, bringing fine performances and top-notch production values.

Bringing his expertise as a set designer, writer-director Robert Eggers brings his trademark eye for historical details, returning the vampire to its folklore roots, away from modern conventions. The Transylvanian gypsy section, with its ominous mood and forest scenery, is reminiscent of The Witch, Egger's first film.

Jarin Blaschke's cinematography is intoxicating poetry, as close to black and white photography in color. The nighttime exterior shots of Transylvania and the Wisburg town are addictive to gaze at.

This is my favorite cast of 2024; there are no weak players and everyone stands out in their way.

Nicholas Hoult, who's on a career-high this year, effectively carries the audience into Transylvania and embodies the fear as he enters Orlok's castle.

Bill Skarsgard plays Count Orlok as a looming presence. He's deliberately obscured in shadow, out of focus, or out of frame, acting through a deep guttural voice and leaving much to the imagination. What makes it all dreadful is that Count Orlok feels omnipresent. There's no escape.

Lily-Rose Depp delivers a physical performance, twisting and contorting her body like a possessed pretzel, overwhelmed by her unwanted metaphysical connection to Orlok.

In a press interview, Eggers said he prefers F. W. Marnau's 1922 Nosferatu over Bram Stoker's Dracula novel, favoring the simplicity of a fairy tale over the Victoriana in the novel.

The gothic theme of the sublime itself, the idea that nature is an overwhelming force that forces us to confront the fragility of our humanity, originated from England and is tied to the Victorian era.

I respect Egger's opinion but don't follow his reasoning. He prefers the story to be set in Germany like the original silent film, with the actors now speaking in British accents but the film explores the sublime all the same.

Fine. Perhaps I prefer the Victoriana. Or perhaps I don't see the core difference.

The Werner Herzog remake featured lingering nature shots of the rats plaguing the town, suggesting that vampires, or notably the plague, were simply a part of nature, and not inherently evil in the Judeo-Christian sense. Also, it was the first to portray Dracula sympathetically. These new interpretations helped the film stand on its own feet.

This Robert Eggers remake, as well-made and entertaining as it is, doesn't justify itself thematically and is oddly slavish to the original Nosferatu story. While it lends to breathtaking visuals, the historical folklore angle is insufficient.

This could easily be an instant classic for audiences experiencing this as their introduction to the Dracula story.

For a Dracula fan, the plot was in all the familiar places and dragged at the midpoint. By the time Willem Dafoe appeared as the Van Helsing character, the story got mechanical, and I was eagerly waiting for the end.

I wanted Robert Eggers to proverbially grab the source material by its neck, bite it, and leave his teeth marks on it.

Based on the popular Broadway musical, Wicked tells the story of the early friendship between Elphaba and Glinda, later known as the Wicked Witch of the West and the Good Witch of the East, in the Land of Oz.

Jon M. Chu, director of Crazy Rich Asians, injects passionate, excitable energy into the musical dance sequences, employing a great sense of cinematic timing with editing and camera work.

Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande are both great in their respective roles and create a riveting onscreen friendship that's tragically destined to end. They both are fantastic professional singers and bring their A-game to the songs, levels above the typical speech singing in Hollywood musicals. Their Oscar nominations, however, are overkill.

As his natural eccentric self, Jeff Goldblum slips into The Wizard of Oz perfectly and plays a convincing charlatan who's running out of schemes.

Sitting in the theater with other people who were entranced by the film and applauding at the end, I recognize that Wicked is a zeitgeist moment.

However, it's not for me.

The film's overlong. I usually enjoy outcast stories, but it's been told better and handled more efficiently in better films. I don't understand how, in a world where animals and humans are cohabiting side by side as equals, everybody would discriminate against a person with green skin.

The cinematography and set design were reminiscent of Marvel films and had that plastic airbrushed look that looked like it was shot all on a blue screen. You can show a kid old Ray Harryhausen films and they'll say it looks fake. I bet kids 20 years from now will be saying the same about this.

The original Wizard of Oz has a special place in my heart. I used to frequent a kid's hospital that would play The Wizard of Oz on a loop in the waiting area. I was glued to the TV, fascinated by the colorful sets and fantasy elements. Margaret Hamilton as the Wicked Witch was frightening; her image seared into my mind, and made it too scary to sleep in the dark.

It's difficult to connect Wicked's version of the Wicked Witch to the one from the original Wizard of Oz.

In the original, the Wicked Witch of the West hurling a fireball at the Scarecrow is one of the most diabolical things she does. The shock and horror behind throwing the fireball is immediately less impactful now having learned that the Wicked Witch is this way because she was ostracized for having green skin.

Personally, the Wicked Witch is more fascinating as a villain with no backstory than a misunderstood anti-hero. Explaining her villainy with teenage-level issues waters it all down.