Wednesday, October 7, 2026

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 fiancĂ©, 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.


Tuesday, October 6, 2026

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.

Monday, October 5, 2026

Now Showing: 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

Plot: Jake Hubbard (Jon Bernthal) walks around his house, wearing his hi-vis workwear, a miner at one of the many in Wyoming. He grabs his thermos mug full of coffee. Before leaving he returns to his bedroom and plants a kiss on his wife, Emily’s head. He then enters the room of his 10 year old daughter, Sophie and does the same.

On his drive to work Jake sits in silence, his elbow resting on the side of the car, head on his hand, obviously tired.

As he steps out of his car his demeanor changes, he begins some small talk and banter with his colleagues. Teddy Hardcastle (Ian Bohen) approaches him, he begins to tell him what's on the agenda today. Jake looks at him, so the same shit as usual. Teddy laughs, yeah same shit as usual. The two of them continue walking, joining a group of miners, dressed in hard hats and protective gear. There seems to be no camaraderie - just a shared understanding of their day ahead.

Jake boards a mining truck and is driven deep into the mine, past the large machinery, the walls of the cavernous space scarred by years of mining. The camera captures the mechanical process of modern mining as Jake rides past massive drills and huge coal extractors, machines designed to slice through the rock with precision and force.

As Jake arrives at his station, he climbs into a loader, operating it with practiced ease. The camera lingers on his face, showing the weariness etched into his expression, the signs of years spent in the same monotonous routine. He grabs a shovel, scooping coal into a conveyor belt with methodical, repetitive movements. Every action is a reflection of the long days that stretch out before him, each task merging into the next, creating a blur of mechanical work.

The camera holds on Jake for a moment, showing the isolation in his eyes. He’s surrounded by the loud, constant noise of the machines, yet there’s an overwhelming sense of stillness within him. There’s no joy, no break from the routine—just the quiet resignation of a man who has learned to keep his emotions buried beneath the weight of the job.

Teddy brings a couple beers and the two of them sit and talk. Teddy asks Jake about Sophie and Emily. Teddy being Jake’s best man at their wedding. Teddy tells him that Sophie seems to be distancing herself, he’s not sure whether it’s his doing or if she’s just growing. Teddy ensures him that she is just becoming her own person, don’t push her. Jake smiles, the two of them cheers, drinking their beers. They sleep at the mine that night

Emily rushes around the house, finding her car keys and rushing Sophie into the car. The two of them drive off, on the way to school and work. The two of them argue all the way on the drive. When Emily pulls up at school, Sophie exits the vehicle and slams the door, not saying anything to her mother. Emily, frustrated, drives off.

As Jake walks toward the shuttle for the mine he is teased by Teddy as Teddy doesn’t go into the mine today. Jake laughs it off, flipping Teddy off.

Jake’s day is identical to the day earlier, nothing changes. He gets a call over a speaker for him to return to base. Upon his return he is approached by Teddy, who looks remorseful. He tells him he’s sorry. Jake looks confused before seeing police officers at the mine. “What the fuck is this? What happened? We keep a distance from Jake approaching the officers, their looks similar to Teddy’s. We don’t hear the conversation from the distance, we then get in close and all we hear is ringing, as if a ringing in the ears. We see Jake’s reaction, a stillness, a tremor. He seems frozen, then he drops. He drops to his knees. Teddy approaches and tries to help. He can’t. No-one can.

At home Sophie waits on the couch in silence. Jake enters. The weight of the news is shared in the most understated way—Jake simply sits beside Sophie, who doesn’t ask questions, sensing the shift without understanding it. No dramatic declarations. No sobbing. Just a long, aching pause between them, Sophie then breaks. She tries to run, Jake pulls her in close, hugging her tight, not letting her go.

The new reality for Jake and Sophie, begins to kick in. They move through life in a haze, the camera capturing their awkward attempts at navigating this altered family dynamic. Jake is shown fumbling through daily tasks: breakfast, cleaning, picking out Sophie’s clothes, all while visibly struggling with his grief. There are no speeches or grand emotional outbursts—just the quiet, painful isolation that comes from not knowing how to deal with such loss.

We watch as Jake tries to make breakfast for Sophie, fumbling the spatula, spilling some food. The camera stays fixed on them from across the room. Sophie sits at the table, staring out the window. Jake moves through the motions, his back to her, but the tension in the space is palpable. Sophie, in her grief, doesn’t want the food. Jake doesn’t know how to comfort her. He looks at the plate, then at her, and simply turns back to the stove. As he has his back to her, she can see his shoulder rise and fall, a deep breath, then stillness. A daughter, who doesn't know how to be without her mother.

Jake slowly ushers Sophie out of the door into the car. The two of them are still in silence. He isn’t sure what to say, what to do. As she gets out of the car, Jake is approached by Principal Lonergan (). Lonergan asks how they are coping. Jake laughs, “We’re not.” Lonergan tells him that he’s sorry to hear that, he mentions that they will offer Sophie some support. Jake accepts this, while also saying he isn’t sure if she’ll want the help. Lonergan mentions that all they can do is try. Jake nods at that, Lonergan then asks how he is, is he going back to the mine? Jake tells him that he is going to look for work closer to Sophie for now. Lonergan wishes him luck on his search.

Jake starts to look for other work, but he’s clearly unprepared for this new path. There is no dialogue about his job search—just a series of quiet, lonely visits to job sites, filled with long, pensive shots of Jake sitting in his truck, staring at a factory or construction site, unsure of how to take the next step. His injury, the lost years in the mines, and his inability to change course are all implied rather than spoken.

Jake attempts to reach out to Sophie in small ways. He picks her up from school, helps her with her homework in silence. But their attempts at communication fail. Sophie is withdrawn, refusing to talk about her mother. In a moment of quiet frustration, Jake watches Sophie quietly hold her mother's old necklace—just an object, yet the symbol of a love and connection he no longer knows how to engage with.

Jake is visited by Teddy at his home. The two of them share a beer out the front of his house, Sophie asleep. Teddy talks to him cautiously but optimistic about the future of his friend. He tells Jake about everything happening at the mine. Unknowingly to Teddy, Jake has begun to cry. Finally letting his grief overcome him. Teddy is unsure what to do, this isn’t Jake, he’s never shown this side of him to Teddy before. Teddy, although hesitant, hugs Jake. Sophie looks out of her window, seeing her father showing his emotion. She looks down at her hands, her mothers necklace in her hands.

Later that night, Teddy has gone home, Jake walks to Sophie’s room, he stands at the door for a moment, unsure of what to do. Then, quietly, he walks over and sits down beside her. There’s no need for words—he simply sits in the stillness with her, each of them swallowed by the silence.
Sophie wakes up, her eyes flicker toward him, but she doesn’t say anything. She’s still holding her mother’s necklace. Jake looks down at it, then back at her, his face unreadable. His eyes are heavy with grief, but they hold something else now—fragile understanding.

Finally, Sophie breaks the silence, her voice barely a whisper. “I miss her so much.” Jake swallows hard, his throat tight. He reaches for the necklace in her hands, holding it for a beat before placing it gently around her neck, the way Emily used to do. His touch is steady, but his hands tremble slightly. “I know, kiddo. So do I.”

There’s a long pause as they sit there together, neither of them moving. The weight of their grief is palpable, the silence louder than words.

Jake looks down at his hands, unsure of what to do next. He’s lost, still caught in the enormity of the change in their lives, but he doesn’t leave. He stays. He just sits there.

After a while, Sophie shifts closer, the smallest movement. Jake looks over at her, and for the first time since everything happened, their eyes meet. There’s a quiet acknowledgement between them—two people who are still figuring out how to be in this new world, but at least, for now, they’re figuring it out together. Sophie barely moves, “Dad… stay with me. Please.”

Jake nods, his voice barely audible. “I’m here, kiddo. I’m not going anywhere.”

He stays beside her, his presence the only comfort he can offer. It’s enough for now.


IN DEVELOPMENT

 

Hay Day: Mel Gibson's Hay Day adaptation now has its villains Kieran Culkin (One Day More, A Real Pain) and JK Simmons (Slowly Dying, Shoe Dog) as powerful corporate farm executives with their sights on the land farmed by Gibson and his family. While Gibson is directing, the script was penned by Alex Conn based loosely on the mobile game of the same name.

Grand Theft Auto IV: Stephanie Beatriz (Mimsley and Me, Silver Sable), Joe Cole (Fading Nights, Blue Ridge), and Micheal Ward (The Omen, At Night All Blood Is Black) have all joined the upcoming video game adaptation Grand Theft Auto IV for director Taylor Sheridan. They will all be playing characters from the game. Mo Buck wrote the script.

Nightwing: Bloodhunt: Taron Egerton (Batman: Knightfall, The Hunchback of Notre Dame) is back as Dick Grayson for another Nightwing film, this time forcing him to face off against Deathstroke, with Jean-Claude Van Damme (Wolfenstein, Deathstroke) returning to the DC Comics Universe as the character for the third time. Sam Hargrave (Nightwing, Extraction 2) is back to direct again. Previous Nightwing writer Jimmy Ellis (Rubicon Lies, The Song of Roland) is back to write again, this time bringing in DC dynamo APJ (Batman: Duality, Donkey Kong Country) as co-writer.

Bloodsong: Devery Jacobs (Backspot, "Reservation Dogs") is set for the leading role in the period horror film Bloodsong. She will play a Choctow woman in 1800s Mississippi Territory with spiritual gifts drawn in by a dark supernatural entity. Aidan Turner (Judas Iscariot, Superman: Doomsday) is also set for the film, playing a missionary caught in the middle of the supernatural horrors. Issa Lopez (Home Before Dark, "True Detective: Night Country") is set to direct the film, which has been written by Holden Abbott (Fading Star, Three Rounds).

Astro Bot: Director Peter Ramsey (Khumba the Flying Zebra, Rise of the Guardians) and writer Joshua Collins (Tales from the Crypt, 1995) are set to team up on Astro Bot, an animated love letter to Playstation about an overlooked maintenance bot inside the Playstation Hub who dreams of being a hero. The voice cast will consist of Emma Corrin (The Sandman: Season of Mists, Nosferatu), Jason Isaacs (Spelljammer, Coriolanus), and Sophia Lillis (Punch Buggy, The Girls), while fans can also expect some Playstation-related cameos.

X-Force: Jeffrey Dean Morgan (X-Men: Age of Apocalypse, ThunderCats) is back as Cable who comes back to present day from his saved future to protect his daughter and a team of young mutants. Andy Samberg (The Roses, Palm Springs) is set to debut the role of Deadpool for LRF, a chaotic mercenary hunting the group of mutants for profit and fun. Sophia Lillis (Punch Buggy, The Girls) is also set for the major role of Hope Summers, Cable's teen daughter. Robert Rodriguez (RoboCop Versus The Terminator, Blue Beetle: Legacy) is set to direct the film from a script by Marvel mutant maestro Dwight Gallo (X-Men: Age of Apocalypse, The Punisher: Purgatory).

Sunday, October 4, 2026

RELEASE: METROID PRIME

 

Metroid Prime
Genre: Action/Sci-Fi
Director: Cary Joji Fukunaga
Writer: Dawson Edwards
Based on the video game series
Cast: Jennifer Lawrence, Jamie Foxx, David Tennant, Anthony Ramos, Zoe Kravitz, Stephan James

Budget: $170,000,000
Domestic Box Office: $98,669,049
Foreign Box Office: $240,127,880
Total Profit: $66,229,489

Reaction: The Metroid Prime is still very successful, but we'd be lying if we said we didn't notice the sizable dip in profits for this sequel compared to the first Metroid entry.




"Metroid Prime succeeds where many video game adaptations fail: it understands atmosphere. Cary Joji Fukunaga turns the Orpheon into a genuinely unnerving haunted-house-in-space. Jennifer Lawrence gives Samus an appealing emotional weariness without overplaying the character’s stoicism, while Jamie Foxx brings surprising gravitas to Commander Nemo. The film occasionally leans too heavily on exposition logs and supporting characters explaining lore, and longtime fans may wish for more exploration-driven pacing, but the Ridley confrontation absolutely delivers." - Scott Anderson, SyFy


"The second film in the Metroid-verse delivers a tasty visual treat with satisfying intense action and gruesome body horror. Edwards and Fukunaga took the most logically correct direction for the franchise and I was never left bored. The supporting cast does a decent enough job to give Samus some people to play off of, but they do seem like we don't get to know them too much to care what happens with them. The 3rd Act gets cramped and we do get a bit too much Ridley fatigue given we've seen him too much at this point. Hopefully a 3rd film could give us a new threat instead of Ridley. Overall, a great entry into the franchise." - Dexter Quinn, Cinematic Observer Newsletter 


"Metroid Prime looks impressive, but too often feels like a generic sci-fi blockbuster. The lonely atmosphere of the games gets buried beneath exposition-heavy Federation characters, predictable team dynamics, and lore dumps about Phazon and government corruption. Jennifer Lawrence is solid as Samus, but the script rarely lets her carry the isolation or mystery that defines the character. Even the Ridley showdown, while flashy, leans more toward noisy CGI spectacle than personal catharsis. Stylish in stretches, but frustratingly conventional where it matters most." - Cal Crowe, Washington Globe






Rated PG-13 for intense sequences of sci-fi action and violence, disturbing images, and thematic material.







Game to Film: Metroid Prime

 

Welcome back for an all new Game to Film! This time we are taking a look at another video game adaptation.... Metroid Prime. The Metroid sequel is once again being directed by Cary Joji Fukunaga (Metroid, Unkempt Garden) and written by Dawson Edwards (Ghost Recon, The Quiet Between Us).