LRF TRIVIA TIDBITS (SEASON 37 ROUND 2)

 

Round 2 of Season 37 offers three very different glimpses behind the curtain: an ambitious sequel discovering that even LRF can’t land every star it wants, a longtime supporting player finally getting another chance to lead, and a surprisingly late first for the studio’s ever-growing library of video game adaptations.

METROID PRIME

Building out the ensemble around Jennifer Lawrence’s Samus Aran proved trickier than expected, particularly after the filmmakers aimed high with several supporting roles. Denzel Washington, Rami Malek, and John Boyega were all approached but ultimately declined, with their respective roles eventually going to Jamie Foxx, Anthony Ramos, and Stephan James.

BELOW THE SURFACE

Below the Surface gives Jon Bernthal a rare opportunity to take center stage in his 10th LRF appearance. Remarkably, it is only his second starring or top-billed role for the studio, following the George Miller thriller flop B.R.I.G.A.N.D.S. all the way back in Season 11.

HAY DAY

Despite LRF’s long history of adapting video games across multiple genres and generations, Hay Day represents a genuine studio first. More than 36 seasons into LRF history, it becomes the first film based on a video game originally created exclusively for mobile phones and devices.

Release: Hay Day

 

Hay Day

Genre: Drama/Thriller

Director: Mel Gibson

Writer: Alex Conn

Based on the mobile game

Cast: Mel Gibson, Laura Dern, Kiernan Shipka, Kieran Culkin, JK Simmons

Budget: $50,000,000

Domestic Box Office: $40,100,333

Foreign Box Office: $19,432,490

Total Profit: -$30,445,900

Reaction: These are definitely not the numbers we were hoping for during Mel Gibson's resurgence for us at LRF. Clearly foreign audiences had little interest in an American farm drama-thriller.

"Hay Day is a solid but ultimately familiar rural drama that leans too heavily on well-worn archetypes and blunt messaging. The central conflict, corporate expansion versus generational land ownership, is compelling, and the tone carries a grounded, somber weight. However, the characters feel predictable, particularly the clear-cut morality of Jack and the increasingly one-note nature of Alex as the antagonist. The escalation into outright violence feels abrupt, stretching credibility and undercutting the more grounded tension built earlier." - Simon Reeves, Honolulu Highlights

"Hay Day is an unexpectedly grim rural thriller elevated by committed performances and Mel Gibson’s grounded direction. The central conflict between generational farming and corporate greed may not be subtle, but it’s effective. While the story occasionally leans too heavily on familiar 'last stand' tropes, it builds to a bleak, memorable ending." - Allen Poole, AV Club 

"It’s almost fitting that Hay Day is based on a mobile game, because the depth of its story—and its understanding of farming—barely rises above that level. The film reduces complex agricultural realities into cartoonishly broad strokes, offering little insight into either the industry or the people within it. Instead, it leans on a barrage of clichés: the noble farmer, the evil corporation, the inevitable violent showdown. The script is thin, underdeveloped, and often unintentionally simplistic, with dialogue that feels more like placeholder than character-driven writing. To his credit, Mel Gibson does what he can both behind and in front of the camera, bringing some grit and sincerity to material that doesn’t support him, but even that effort can’t elevate a story this shallow." - Dave Manning, Ridgefield Press

Rated R for violence and language

Top 10 Mel Gibson Films

 

Sherman J. Pearson here for another Top 10. Hay Day, in theaters now, is Mel Gibson's 10th film for LRF, so it only seems fitting to rank them all here today.

Top 10 Mel Gibson Films

10. Carbon

9. Hay Day

8. How to Survive in Hell

7. The Emperor of Latium

6. Sins of the Father

5. The Killings

4. The Punisher: Purgatory

3. The Squared Circle

2. The Punisher: Last Exit

1. The Punisher

Now Showing: Hay Day

 

Hay Day

Genre: Drama/Thriller

Director: Mel Gibson

Writer: Alex Conn

Based on the mobile game

Cast: Mel Gibson, Laura Dern, Kiernan Shipka, Kieran Culkin, JK Simmons

Plot: The film opens with wide, muted shots of farmland in Middle America, cast in shades of gray and brown. Machinery hums in the distance, a storm brews on the horizon, and faint voices echo across the fields. This is the Branson family farm, where Jack Branson (Mel Gibson), his wife Clara (Laura Dern), and their teenage daughter Ellie (Kiernan Shipka) toil under the open sky. Jack’s hands are rough, his face sun-worn—a man molded by hard work and bound to his land by tradition and love.

A truck approaches down the dusty path. Out steps Alex Kane (Kieran Culkin), a CEO with bleached hair and a designer hoodie, his polished look clashing with the rural setting. But today, he’s not alone. He’s joined by Peter Kane (JK Simmons), his father, a weathered, imposing man with steel-gray hair and an unflinching gaze. Peter built FarmCo from the ground up and now oversees its rapid expansion, although he’s largely handed the reins to Alex.

“Jack Branson,” Peter greets, his voice low and commanding. “Beautiful place you’ve got here.”

Jack’s jaw clenches, recognizing the Kanes and knowing their reputation. Peter has driven FarmCo’s rapid rise through relentless acquisitions of family farms, replacing old methods with mechanized farming to increase profits. But Jack stands firm, aware of the challenges the Kanes will bring.

In the days that follow, FarmCo representatives descend on the Branson farm, presenting contracts promising profit if Jack sells out. But Jack refuses, aware that selling to FarmCo would mean the end of his family’s legacy.

As FarmCo’s influence begins to infiltrate the region, the dynamic between Alex and Peter becomes apparent. Alex, while confident and eager to impress his father, lacks Peter’s grit and business intuition. Peter quietly directs operations, ensuring FarmCo dominates local suppliers and distributors, subtly strangling Jack’s ability to sustain his farm.

As other farmers begin to sell, FarmCo takes control over suppliers, driving up costs for independent farmers like Jack. Jack’s frustration grows as he watches his community’s heritage fade, taken over by mechanized fields and corporate interests. In scenes where Jack broods over mounting bills and the strain on his family, he’s haunted by a creeping fear that he might lose everything.

The tension between Alex and Peter escalates, revealing their diverging values. Alex sees FarmCo as an efficient, progressive machine, a symbol of modern success. Peter, however, respects the “old way,” despite his ruthless tactics, and views Jack as a relic from a time he once respected. “Jack’s not just a farmer,” Peter tells Alex in a private conversation, “he’s a man tied to the land. You’re not fighting dirt—you’re fighting his bloodline.”

Alex, however, sees Jack as an obstacle, one that threatens his vision and his father’s legacy. Driven to prove himself, Alex ramps up FarmCo’s intimidation tactics. He begins personally taunting Jack, often accompanied by Peter, who observes with a stoic, watchful gaze.

FarmCo’s presence grows sinister as heavy machinery and chemical fertilizers leach into neighboring farms, contaminating water sources. Jack’s cattle are found dead, poisoned by runoff from FarmCo’s fields. When Jack confronts Alex, Peter intervenes, quietly warning his son that he may be going too far, though his concern is masked by a pragmatic exterior. “Respect the land,” he tells Alex, a rare moment of vulnerability. “It’s taken men stronger than us before.”

With Jack’s refusal to yield, Peter advises Alex to take a final, drastic step. Hired goons vandalize the Branson property, smashing windows and scattering dead chickens across the farm. Jack, Clara, and Ellie are pushed to the brink, yet Jack remains resolved. “This is our home,” he tells Clara, voice heavy with defiance. “They’re not taking it.”

That night, as the family gathers for dinner, headlights flash outside. A convoy of cars pulls up, and out steps Alex, flanked by armed men and his father, Peter, who stands silently, watching. “Last chance, Jack,” Alex calls out, taunting. “Sign it, and you can walk away.”

Jack responds with a single shot into the air, a warning that marks the beginning of a violent standoff. Gunfire erupts, casting the serene farmland into chaos. Jack fights desperately, using his knowledge of the land to evade Alex’s men, but he’s outnumbered, outgunned, and the brutal reality of facing a corporate machine sinks in.

Peter, standing back from the chaos, looks on with a conflicted expression. He respects Jack’s grit and loyalty to the land, qualities he once shared but sacrificed in pursuit of power. When Jack confronts Alex in a final showdown, bloodied and defiant, he growls, “This land was my father’s, and his father’s before him. You can take the land, but you’ll never take that.”

Peter watches as Alex pulls the trigger, ending Jack’s life. He feels a pang of something deeper—a sense of loss for what he once was. The final shot lingers on Jack’s body, lifeless in the dirt, his blood mixing with the soil he fought so hard to protect.

FarmCo takes over the Branson farm, erasing any traces of Jack’s legacy. The land is stripped, remade with uniform rows of genetically modified crops. The farm becomes just another cog in FarmCo’s machine, its history erased.

Ellie returns to her childhood home, finding remnants of her father’s struggle: his worn hat on a fence post, the soil marked by tire tracks and bloodstains. She looks over the ravaged land, her expression mirroring Jack’s resolute gaze, a sign that the Branson legacy may not be gone entirely.

In the final scenes, we see Peter Kane alone, sitting in his luxurious office, surrounded by the silent glow of screens and corporate awards. He’s lauded as a visionary, yet the expression on his face is distant. The emptiness in his eyes reveals a quiet unease, a realization of what he has sacrificed in his relentless pursuit of dominance. As he stares out the window over his empire, he’s haunted by the image of Jack, a reminder of the man he once was and the connection to the land he’s lost.

“Hay Day” ends with a shot of the Branson land, barren under a darkening sky. Only a single, forgotten stalk of corn sways in the wind.

Director's Cut: The Fountainhead

 

The Fountainhead - Director's Cut

Genre: Drama

Director: Zack Snyder

Writer: Dwight Gallo

Based on the novel by Ayn Rand

Cast: Ryan Gosling, Brie Larson, Zachary Quinto, Mark Strong, Michael Stuhlbarg

Plot: Howard Roark (Ryan Gosling) is fired from a prestigious architecture firm after refusing to revise a series of radical designs considered too expensive, impractical, and hostile to public taste. His employers praise his talent even as they show him the door. Roark has already become notorious in architectural and high-society circles, where his uncompromising buildings are treated as equal parts curiosity and joke. Ellsworth Toohey (Michael Stuhlbarg), the influential architecture critic for The Banner, recognizes an easy target. His columns ridicule Roark’s work as arrogant and antisocial while praising architects who borrow safely from the past. Gail Wynand (Mark Strong), the newspaper’s wealthy and ruthless publisher, barely notices the campaign beyond the fact that Toohey’s columns sell papers.

Dominique Francon (Brie Larson), a sharp-tongued columnist for The Banner, sees through Toohey immediately. At parties she listens as wealthy patrons laugh over reproductions of Roark’s designs before turning around to praise the conventional work of her fiancé, Peter Keating (Zachary Quinto). Keating knows how to flatter clients, recycle fashionable styles, and tell every room exactly what it wants to hear. Dominique says little, but later uses her column to praise the very qualities in Roark that everyone else finds offensive. She becomes fascinated by an architect she has never met and increasingly disgusted by a world in which Keating prospers while Roark cannot find work.

Roark moves from firm to firm and rejection to rejection. Clients admire his drawings until they ask him to add columns, ornamental facades, or historical details that serve no structural purpose. Each time, Roark simply rolls up his plans and leaves. Eventually he runs out of money and takes work at a stone quarry owned by Dominique’s father. Stripped of drafting tables and drawing rooms, he spends his days drilling into rock beneath the summer sun. While staying at her family estate, Dominique rides past the quarry and notices him below. Roark stops working long enough to meet her stare. Neither looks away.

Dominique arranges to have Roark sent to her bedroom to repair a damaged white marble fireplace. Roark quickly realizes there is nothing wrong with it that requires him personally and mocks the elaborate excuse. When another laborer arrives the following day to finish the work, Dominique rides furiously back to the quarry. She finds Roark walking alone and lashes him across the face with her riding crop. Roark catches her wrist before she can strike again. That night he appears at her open bedroom window. Their attraction finally erupts in a fierce encounter born as much from anger and competition as desire, leaving neither willing to admit what has passed between them.

The following morning, Roark receives a letter offering him an architectural commission and leaves the quarry immediately. Dominique returns several days later and finds his place empty. When offered the chance to learn where he went, she refuses. She keeps the broken piece of marble he left behind without knowing that the quarry worker she cannot forget is Howard Roark, the architect whose work she has been defending in print.

Months later, the Enright House rises above the city, a severe modern structure of steel, stone, and glass surrounded by buildings covered in decorative excess. Toohey attacks it relentlessly, turning its opening into a fashionable spectacle for people eager to mock it. Dominique arrives and sees Roark across the room. Recognition stops her cold. Later, she goes to his apartment and asks him to abandon architecture before the world destroys him. She offers herself and a life together in exchange. Roark refuses. If she wants him, she must want the man who builds exactly what he believes should exist. Dominique leaves knowing she loves him and equally convinced that she will eventually watch society ruin him.

Gail Wynand becomes fascinated with Dominique after recognizing that her contempt for the circles she inhabits nearly equals his own. He proposes marriage even after she tells him she does not love him. Dominique accepts, choosing the most powerful man in the world she despises as another way of surrendering to it. Wynand later commissions Roark to design an isolated country home for them. During months of work, the two men form an unexpected friendship. Wynand, who has spent his life buying influence and controlling other people, becomes fascinated by someone who seems entirely beyond purchase. Dominique watches Roark and her husband grow closer and finds herself unable to decide which man she fears losing more.

Peter Keating’s celebrated career eventually outruns his talent when he is awarded a massive public housing development. Alone with the plans, he realizes he cannot design it. He goes secretly to Roark and begs for help. Roark agrees to create the entire project without credit on one condition: nothing he designs can be changed. Keating eagerly accepts. Roark produces a stark, economical complex built around light, space, and function. Once construction begins, however, committees demand balconies, ornamentation, additional wings, and decorative features. Toohey quietly encourages every revision while Keating repeatedly assures himself that each compromise is minor.

Roark visits the construction site and sees his design buried beneath alterations. He walks through the unfinished complex without speaking, studying walls moved from their original positions and meaningless decoration bolted onto structural concrete. That night Dominique arrives at the deserted site and finds Roark preparing explosives. She understands immediately. Rather than stopping him, she helps clear the area and ensures no one will be inside. From a distant ridge she watches the charges erupt in sequence, the corrupted buildings collapsing beneath columns of fire and concrete dust. Roark remains at the site and makes no attempt to flee when the authorities arrive.

Toohey sees the arrest as his chance to destroy Roark permanently. He corners Keating and forces him to admit that Roark secretly designed the project, leaving Keating exposed as a fraud while providing the evidence needed for prosecution. Newspapers across the city portray Roark as a madman who destroyed homes intended for the poor. Wynand initially allows The Banner to join them, until his friendship with Roark finally forces him to confront what his newspaper has become. He abruptly orders the paper to defend Roark.

Toohey responds by turning Wynand’s own empire against him. Writers resign. Printers refuse to work. Advertisers disappear. Newsstands return unsold copies of The Banner while crowds gather outside its offices. Wynand walks through a nearly deserted newsroom surrounded by silent presses and finally discovers the limits of the power he thought he owned. Facing the destruction of everything he spent his life building, he capitulates. Toohey’s faction returns, and the next edition of The Banner condemns Howard Roark.

At trial, Roark calls no witnesses. Photographs of the original housing design and the altered project stand side by side before the jury. Roark speaks about the men who created buildings, machines, art, and ideas before anyone else knew they were possible, arguing that creation begins with an individual mind and cannot survive when that mind is forced to surrender ownership of its work. He does not ask for sympathy and does not apologize for the demolition. When the verdict comes back not guilty, Roark simply gathers his papers and walks out through the stunned courtroom.

Wynand summons Roark to the empty offices of The Banner. He offers him one final commission: the Wynand Building, the tallest and greatest structure the publisher has ever attempted. There will be no committee, no revisions, and no restrictions. Roark may build whatever he wants. He accepts. The two men shake hands without discussing what happened between them. After Roark leaves, Wynand walks through the abandoned newsroom, switches off the lights one row at a time, returns to his office, and kills himself.

Months later, the Wynand Building rises above the city. Dominique arrives at the construction site and gives her name as Mrs. Roark. She steps into an exposed construction elevator and begins the long ascent through the steel skeleton of the skyscraper. The streets shrink beneath her while wind tears through the unfinished structure. Looking upward, she finally sees Roark standing alone at the highest completed level, silhouetted against an enormous white sky. The elevator continues climbing until the city disappears beneath him and nothing remains in Dominique’s view but Roark, steel, and the building he created.

Release: Below the Surface

 

Below the Surface

Genre: Drama

Director: Fran Kranz

Writer: Sammy-Jo Ellis

Cast: Jon Bernthal, Brooklynn Prince, Ian Bohen, Jordana Spiro, Reed Birney

Budget: $15,000,000

Domestic Box Office: $11,130,600

Foreign Box Office: $6,995,405

Total Profit: -$14,000,062

Reaction: Below the Surface did not manage to bring in much at the box office, but its modest budget at least kept the losses from spiraling too far.

"Below the Surface is an exceptionally understated drama that understands grief doesn't arrive through grand speeches or dramatic breakdowns, but through silence, routine, and the painful absence of everyday moments. Fran Kranz's restrained approach allows the emotional weight to build naturally, while Jon Bernthal is given one of the strongest roles of his career as a father struggling to navigate life after unimaginable loss. The film occasionally risks being too quiet for its own good, but its commitment to honesty never wavers." - Jonah Halberg - The Atlantic

"Below the Surface is a deeply restrained and emotionally devastating portrait of grief, anchored by outstanding work from Jon Bernthal. The film is patience - sometimes too patient - but carries some emotional punch to it." - Allen Bohl, Casper Star-Tribune

"Below the Surface confuses minimalism with meaning, mistaking a lack of dramatic momentum for understated filmmaking. Long stretches of silence and repetitive domestic routines feel dramatically shapeless, as though the film mistakes stillness for depth. The casting also raises problems: Brooklynn Prince is undeniably talented, but feels noticeably too old to convincingly play a ten-year-old, which weakens the film’s central father-daughter dynamic. Jon Bernthal does admirable work, but even he struggles to elevate the film." - Scott E. Kerr, Chicago Reader

Rated PG-13 for language and thematic material

HISTORY LESSON (SEASON 16)

 

Welcome to History Lesson, where we take a closer look at the movies that dare to tackle real-life events with varying levels of accuracy, drama, and WTF casting choices. These films promise to educate and entertain, but more often than not, they rewrite history with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. We’ll be your guide through the land of miscast biopics, dramatic embellishments, and historical “inspired-by” liberties, breaking down whether these flicks are Golden Reel Award-worthy masterpieces or just a big-budget Wikipedia summary. Either way, it’s more fun than your high school history class—and there’s popcorn.

This time around we will take a look at Season 16's fact-based slate....

HISTORY LESSON: MORRISSEY AND MARR

Morrissey and Marr is an attempt to capture the tumultuous partnership behind The Smiths, but it plays more like a Wikipedia summary with a moody soundtrack than a deep dive into what made the band tick. Daniel Radcliffe’s Morrissey spends most of the movie crying or writing lyrics, while Jack O’Connell’s Johnny Marr is basically his long-suffering, guitar-wielding babysitter. The film ticks all the boxes: Morrissey’s angsty songwriting, Johnny’s effortless cool, and the band’s inevitable implosion. The script never bothers to explore why these people behave the way they do though. It’s all surface-level drama — like reading Morrissey’s Twitter, but with better cinematography.

The film seems content to skim over the complexities of its characters, reducing Morrissey’s neuroses and Marr’s frustrations to plot points rather than personality traits. Even major milestones, like the creation of Meat Is Murder or the band’s breakup, are glossed over in favor of quick montages and melodramatic confrontations. It’s all very pretty and occasionally funny, but don’t expect any real insight into the iconic partnership that defined a generation of moody teens. Morrissey and Marr is more of a greatest hits compilation than an intimate B-side, and while that’s fun for fans, it leaves you wondering what could’ve been if the film had dared to dig a little deeper.

HISTORY LESSON: MCCAIN

McCain, Clint Eastwood’s cinematic ode to grit and resilience, takes the larger-than-life story of John McCain and distills it into two-plus hours of sheer endurance — both for its protagonist and its audience. Chris Pine dons the POW jumpsuit, Navy whites, and later the politician’s suit, portraying McCain with a mix of charisma and stoicism that carries the film. From surviving torture in the Hanoi Hilton to navigating a messy personal life and a career in politics, Pine’s McCain is an indomitable figure, even if the movie occasionally veers into Greatest Hits of American Heroism territory. Historical accuracy? Mostly on point — Eastwood doesn’t shy away from McCain’s many scars, both physical and emotional, though it smooths over some of the more jagged edges of his story for palatability.

What McCain nails is the spectacle: the fire on the USS Forrestal is gripping, the Hanoi Hilton scenes are brutal, and Pine’s performance ensures the film stays grounded. However, the script occasionally treats its audience like voters at a campaign rally, hammering home McCain’s virtues with the subtlety of a campaign slogan. The result is a film that feels reverent but rarely intimate. McCain’s flaws are acknowledged but often with a wink and a nudge, like when his personal life implodes in favor of a more photogenic second act. It’s a respectful portrait but lacks the bite to fully dissect its complex subject. Still, if you’re here for some high-stakes war drama and a reminder of McCain’s unique place in history, it’ll scratch that itch.