Binkconn

Finally, a film addresses the giant elephant in the room that in the last five years has sent the country spiralling even further into political and identity tribalism, the ascendance of authoritarianism, etc., which the media likes to pretend it never stoked (as if Jan. 6th was all based on one discontented president's rhetoric and not also on thousands of jobs lost due to shutdowns): the Covid-19 Pandemic. The ever busy Pedro Pascal and always adventurous Joaquin Phoenix are great as Mayor and Sheriff at political odds in the tiny town of Eddington, New Mexico (really Truth or Consequences) with mask restrictions that drove many a citizen crazy in 2020-1 (the plot only seems a bit of an overreach by conflating AI into the mix, an issue that really didn't enter the national conversation until late 2022 at the earliest). Emma Stone is very funny as Joaquin's doll-obsessed, frigid wife, and the film has a charming, homespun quality that recalls other New Mexico-set films like "Welcome To Mooseport" and "White Sands" (I tried to be an extra when it filmed a year ago this past April but missed the window, finding only "Welcome Eddington!" marquees at various drive-ins). With NM's usually vibrant film scene slowed to a snail's pace due to tariffs and such (Superman was essentially fighting a fitter, younger Don), it's great we still have challenging, well-written films like this emerging in 2025 among all the usual play-it-safe remakes and reboots. Check out Eddington; at least it'll give you something to talk about.

Numerous medium shots of various tank-tops and tight clothing keep one fitfully interested in a Jurassic sequel that takes an awfully long time to get going, as Scarlett joins various generic cologne models and soldiers-of-fortune on a quest to get dinosaur blood to cure heart disease, I think (Dr. Loomis' brief lecture on Monosaurases and the way hearts pump blood in gigantic mammals was genuinely interesting; I wish the script was peppered with more of that the way the earlier films were). A family rescued from a capsized boat is just Sloop John Boring, but Johansson is good at crying (probably imagining having to pretend to laugh at her husband's self-impressed jokes on SNL for another decade) and sounds genuinely irate at wanting her money and getting out of there (I don't think she was acting). I don't know, I probably should have seen it in 3-D (also should have gotten Scar's autograph when I saw her in the play A View From The Bridge years ago; could have sold it and fixed my transmission, seen Paul Simon for a second night, etc.). Oh well, more fun rides coming to Universal destined to come out of this. Enjoy, kids! Sigh.

Javier can turn even the smallest scene into something great and interesting, and he's the only reason to stick "F1" out. He's certainly better than Brad switched to bemused, arrogant Cliff Booth mode as an old racer friend Javi recruits to help with gambling debts to his F1 team (there's a brief flicker in his eyes early on of the vulnerability of his finest acting in "Ad Astra," then gone). The film is a painfully formulaic look at Formula 1 racing for anyone who remembers a movie made before 1990, director Joseph Kosinski intent on hitting every '80s Tony Scott theme of minimum characterization and cliched 'haunted hero comes back/clashes with rival for ultimate redemption' beat, even mimicking Scott's cinematography and skimming pacing. Kerry Condon as a crew techie does the paces as the 'initially skeptical/later slamming against the wall with passion' love interest, and Damon Idris as Pitt's teammate is at least interesting for showing the contemporary multiculturalism of London, but only the most obsessed aficionados of formula racing will find the repetitive racing scenes themselves interesting.

Kosinski's most human film was the firefighter epic "Only The Brave" (I was an extra in it; he called the casting director to yell at me for giving away the ending on social media - since it was based on a ten year old true story not sure what I was giving away, but anyway); since then with "Top Gun: Maverick" and this he's been determined to transform his style into some kind of dynastic revival of Tom Cruise's glory years: programmed thrills, robotic, empty. Probably a smart move financially, but a hollow one for his art, and for moviegoers. Oh well, at least Brad's name here isn't Cole Trickle (which sounds like some kind of prostate problem). Race on, Brad, race on.