This Guy at the Movies

To be funny, satire needs teeth. “Serial Mom” (American; 1994; satirical black comedy/crime/slasher horror; running time 1 hour, 35 minutes; written and directed by John Waters; rated R for violence, gore, language, nudity, sexual situations; in theaters April 13, 1994, available on VOD and streaming services, including Netflix) only nibbles at what it mocks, making for an uneven experience that is only sporadically mildly funny. Kathleen Turner delivers a worthy, campy lead performance even though she is the central figure in what amounts to a one-note joke: What if an ordinary, middle-aged housewife and mother was secretly a serial killer? Though it has moments of clever observational humor, the premise wears thin and gives way to annoyance about the time the film reaches an elongated courtroom scene the outcome of which we can already guess. Waters was mining familiar territory here (familiar to him and other filmmakers), but he wasn’t mining it aggressively enough.

Set (and filmed) in the suburbs of Baltimore (Waters’ hometown), Turner is Beverly Sutphin, a homemaker and mom in an idyllic family that seems straight out of 1957. The décor in Beverly’s home reeks of Good Housekeeping. Beverly’s husband is Eugene (Sam Waterston), a dentist who often is clueless about what is going on around him (and that would help your wife get away with murder). They have two teen (young adult?) children – Misty (Ricki Lake), who is boy crazy; and Chip (Matthew Lillard), a horror movie buff who works at a video rental store. Life seems suburban-y bland for the Sutphins. At least until a couple of people rub Beverly the wrong way, and the next thing you know she is on a killing spree. All it takes is minor annoyance, whether it’s a boy standing up Misty, or a young man who refuses to wear his seatbelt, or the woman who won’t be kind and rewind her returned videotapes. These people deserved to be killed, Beverly reasons, because, well, she’s a psychopath protected by the façade of suburban mom/wife niceness.

Waters, as he so often has, is exploring the absurdity of American life. That includes but is not limited to conformity, conservative values, religion, the public’s cluelessness (or is it denial?), perversion, hypocrisy about perversion and instant celebrity. The latter reaches a zenith when Beverly opts to defend herself from six murder charges, Suzanne Somers (playing herself) shows up at the trial because she wants to play Beverly in the upcoming TV movie, and Beverly wins acquittal (you don’t consider that a spoiler, right?) and becomes a household name and (inexplicably) a feminist icon. And then she murders again. In the courthouse. Because of a fashion faux pax. Turner rolls with the absurdity as she (quickly) morphs into a monster who will smile and offer you strawberries right after a killing. She’s having a blast with the part. But “Serial Mom,” despite moments of sex (played for laughs) and gore (also played for laughs), is too safe and never reaches the level of darkly comedic fun we assume Waters intended. “Serial Mom” had trouble getting into theaters because of a dispute between Waters and studio officials (who didn’t like the movie), and it tanked when it was released, though Waters’ films have never seemed built for mass appeal. Satire can be a tough sell. But if you are trying to sell it, it had better be funny.

My score: 54 out of 100

“A Quiet Place: Day One”

Genres: Apocalyptic sci-fi/horror/thriller

Country: United States

Directed by: Michael Sanorski

Written by: Sanorski, based on the “A Quiet Place” film series created by Bryan Woods and Scott Beck

Starring: Lupita Nyong’o, Joseph Quinn, Alex Wolff, Djimon Hounsou, Eliane Umuhire

Rated: PG-13 for terror and violence

Run time: 1 hour, 39 minutes

Release date: In theaters June 28, 2024

Where I saw it: Republic Studio 10 Cinemas in Shelbyville, Ind., on a Saturday afternoon, $7, 11 other people in the theater

What it’s about: In a prequel to “A Quiet Place” (2018) and its sequel, “A Quiet Place Part II” (2020), extraterrestrial creatures with no vision but an advanced sense of hearing invade New York, and humans – including Samira, aka Sam (Nyong’o), a terminally ill young woman with a cat named Frodo; and Eric (Quinn), an English law student who is panic-stricken – must remain quiet so that they can survive and get to a rescue boat on the Hudson River, as the creatures cannot swim.

My take: Perhaps because the simple premise has been stretched thin, the third “A Quiet Place” movie doesn’t feel quite as fresh or as thrilling as the first two, though it doesn’t miss the mark by much. Its tension at times reaches edge-of-your-seat status, but it also includes brief stretches of inertia. It’s a lean 99 minutes long, which helps keep the first half of he movie from becoming a complete slog though, admittedly, I found my mind wondering more than once. Though we are by now familiar with them, the creatures remain scary, largely because they are incredibly flexible and can climb up and down walls but also because they have a way of sneaking up on their victims, even when those victims are being perfectly still. Both Nyong’o and Quinn (who doesn’t arrive until about a third of the way through) are fantastic in their roles. Nyong’o’s Sam is the more bold of the two (in part because she has little to lose) while Eric brings needed sensitivity to the situation. Sam is on the screen nearly all the time, and so is Eric once Sam reluctantly agrees to team up with him. Their performances carry a movie which (obviously) is not heavy on dialogue (or story). Frodo the cat will prove to be a popular touch and is the star of one of the more fun sequences. The sound design had better be good in a film like this, and it is, amplifying even the slightest sounds because that’s the way the creatures would hear them. The movie ends with a disappointing needle drop, a 59-year-old song that is being used so much in TV shows and films that it is becoming cliché. If there’s a fourth “A Quiet Place” movie (and there likely will be given the second film ends with a cliffhanger), the challenge will be to keep what makes these movies tense but fun entertainment while interjecting new wrinkles that bring freshness and thrills.

My score: 76 out of 100

If you love the much-maligned Canadian hard rock band Nickelback, you are going to love “Hate to Love: Nickelback” (Canada; 2023; music documentary; running time 1 hour, 30 minutes; directed by Leigh Brooks; rated TV-MA for language; made debut at Toronto International Film Festival on Sept. 8, 2023, available on Netflix on June 26, 2024), a rah-rah documentary that is practically a nostalgic love letter to the band’s ravenous fans. If you are one of those who jumped on the Nickelback bandwagon of hate about the time social media and memes became a part of our day-to-day existence, little here is likely to convince you to feel otherwise, and the film might just affirm how you already feel. If you are indifferent toward Nickelback (and, yes, those people exist, especially these days, when the band is less relevant than it used to be), you will be able to take and/or leave this documentary which is, fittingly for a band often criticized for its lack of originality, your standard issue rock music documentary. A group of musicians form a band, they struggle to make a name for themselves, superstardom arrives as do the pitfalls that go along with it and, if everyone survives, they become reflective when the fame subsides and the players start to get on in years. It’s a familiar tale made no better or no worse because it is about Nickelback.

Here’s the band’s story: Nickelback formed as the Village Idiots, a cover band that focused mostly on Metallica songs, in 1995 in Hanna, Alberta, Canada, a small farming community not far from Calgary. The core of the band is vocalist/guitarist/chief song writer/face of the band Chad Kroeger; his older brother and bassist Mike Kroeger; and guitarist/keyboardist/vocalist Ryan Peake, whom the Kroegers met when searching for a guitarist. The band went through a Spinal Tap amount of drummers before Daniel Adair joined in 2005 and has remained a member of the lineup. Relentless touring and a bunch of borrowed money paid off in 2002 when “How You Remind Me” became a big hit. Suddenly Nickelback (and Chad Kroeger in particular) was everywhere. A 2003 album, “The Long Road,” felt like a step back to the band (it and its singles didn’t chart as high, and crowds at their shows began to shrink). But Nickelback was about to become a huge (arguably the hugest) arena rock and radio friendly band of the mid-2000s. The 2005 album “All the Right Reasons” spawned three top-10 hits (the nostalgic “Photograph,” the power ballad “Far Away” and the still remarkably annoying “Rockstar”). This would represent peak Nickelback. The band remained a big deal the next several years, spawning Nickelback hate.

“Hate to Love: Nickelback” spends little time exploring the cultural phenomenon that was the backlash against the band’s popularity. Band members admit it got to them (after all, as one notes, nobody picks up a guitar to be in the world’s most hated band), which at least humanizes the situation. Much contributed to the wildfire of Nickelback hate – Chad Kroeger’s dude bro persona and misogynistic lyrics, an oversaturation of songs and music videos, the rise of social media, the band’s perceived focus on being rock stars and lack of artistic aspirations, and their derivative (some confused them with Creed, 1B to Nickelback’s 1A on the list of most hated bands of their era) post-grunge music. But the band soldiered on unfazed because, as an interview subject puts it in the film, “sometimes people want to hear vacuous shit.” And that is a lot of people, apparently, as numerous scenes show Nickelback playing to huge stadium crowds. The band, by commercial measures, has been one of the most successful of the rock era, a fact that famous Canadian Ryan Reynolds (a friend of the band) reminds viewers as proof of how great they are, which is a lot like saying Taco Bell makes the best tacos because they have sold the most. Love them, hate them or pay no attention to them, Nickelback is still rocking (but as guys around age 50 and in front of smaller crowds). And now they have the documentary to prove not everyone hated them.

My score: 58 out of 100

“Sometimes I Think About Dying” (American; 2023; indie romance/dark comedy/drama; running time 1 hour, 31 minutes; directed by Rachel Lambert, written by Kevin Armento, Stefanie Abel Horowitz and Katy Wright-Mead, based on the 2013 play “Killers” by Armento and a 2019 short film of the same name directed and co-written by Horowitz; rated PG-13 for references to suicide, thematic material; made debut at Sundance Film Festival on Jan. 19, 2023, available on VOD and streaming services, including Mubi) will feel relatable if you are an introvert and/or you have experienced periods of depression. Director Lambert and her writers convincingly simulate what it feels like to trudge through a day-to-day existence when it seems pointless and, through a measured lead performance by Daisy Ridley, effectively convey the suffocating feeling of not being noticed or heard and not interacting with those around you. But, if you are a people person and generally happy, you likely will have trouble finding something to grasp onto, as this is a drab movie that goes nowhere and is in no hurry to get there, one that leaves much unsaid and unresolved and is short on what many viewers would consider entertainment value.

Ridley is Fran, a young woman living alone in a small coastal town in the Pacific Northwest, the kind of place where it is perpetually cloudy. She works in a small office and is good at her job, producing spread sheets. But she hardly talks to anyone, and they hardly talk to her. Her co-workers seem happy and enjoy mundane banter with each other. When one of Fran’s co-workers retires, a nice guy named Robert (Dave Merheje) takes her place. Robert is kind to Fran, and Fran, though she doesn’t often show emotion, seems to like the attention. She and Robert go on a date (he is a movie buff, so they see a film), but the next day at work Robert barely acknowledges Fran. He is, as they say, keeping it on the down-low. They have another date at Robert’s new place and attend a party together in which the guests participate in a murder mystery. Robert, who is more outgoing, eventually becomes frustrated with Fran’s inability to open up, and Fran feels like Robert is being intrusive. Will their budding relationship survive? Will Fran continue to come out of her shell? Or will she retreat to inside her own head and keep having visions of her own death?

Depression isn’t overtly discussed, but it is obvious that Ridley’s Fran is struggling with it. Ridley (Rey in the “Star Wars” movies of the 2010s) keeps her character’s quirkiness in check (she’s a bit odd, but only in comparison to her more sociable co-workers) and conveys sadness and (later) hints of joy even though Fran is short on expressiveness. We learn little about Fran, though, which might be the point in a movie about an introvert. We also learn little about Robert, other than his fascination with movies and that he has been married and divorced twice. Fran’s and Robert’s relationship is realistic because it at times feels like it is headed toward romance but also includes bouts of awkwardness and doubt. Marcia DeBonis has a nice turn as Carol, the retiring co-worker, delivering the film’s most dramatic monologue, one about living for now instead of waiting for the future. Fran’s thoughts of death (she doesn’t attempt to take her own life) are dream-like and oddly beautiful in their presentation; great care also was taken with scene-setting shots, most of which are worthy of being framed and hung in a gallery. The scenes in the office capture what work life can feel like for introverts, who typically have no use for small talk and team-building initiatives. Viewers might find the ending frustrating, but perhaps no more frustrating than a story that has so little going on. Your enjoyment level will depend largely on your ability to find a reason to care about Fran, even if that reason is that you know what it’s like to be socially isolated and depressed.

My score: 77 out of 100

“Loop Track” (New Zealand; 2023; horror/thriller; running time 1 hour, 34 minutes; written and directed by Thomas Sainsbury; rated TV-MA for gore, brief violence; made debut at New Zealand International Film Festival on July 21, 2023, available on VOD and streaming services, including Shudder) possesses most of the elements necessary for an intriguing and scary slow-burn psychological horror story in which bad things happen in the woods. But it never quite puts together those elements, and the result is a movie that, while not awful, never rises much beyond garden variety horror. Writer/director Sainsbury, who also stars, builds a decent amount of tension that doesn’t fully pay off when a surprising reveal and a less-than-satisfying ending arrive. “Loop Track” leaves much unsaid, which isn’t always an issue, though here some filled-in blanks likely would have made for a more fulfilling movie.

Sainsbury is Ian, a man being eaten alive by anxiety. He is troubled but (and here’s one of those blanks that need filled) we never learn why. Though clearly inexperienced and unprepared, he sets off on a long solo hike into the New Zealand bush. He desperately tries to avoid others on the trail, but an annoyingly chatty man (Hayden J. Weal as Nicky) insists they team up. Their journey leads to a cabin, and there they find a couple (Tawanda Manyimo as Austin and Kate Simmonds as Monica), and they agree to make the rest of the journey as a foursome. But Ian’s behavior grows increasingly unstable. He insists the group is being followed by a shadowy figure that only he sees. The others begin to worry about Ian’s sanity. At one point, Ian accuses one of his fellow hikers of murder. What is it that Ian sees, if anything? Should the rest of the group listen to Ian and turn back or dismiss him as paranoid and press forward?

Though it would have been nice to have more of his backstory (we know that he owned a failed business and that he is divorced), Sainsbury’s Ian is at least a little sympathetic. His anxiety drives the tension during times when not much else is going on, and Sainsbury is convincing as a sweaty nervous wreck who desperately craves peace of mind. Weal nails his part as one of those guys who probably means well (or does he?) but doesn’t know when to quit with the niceness. The going is deliberate (to put it kindly) until the third act, when “Loop Track” finally embraces being a horror movie. The film doesn’t include much gore, but brief moments of it are intense. The big reveal is bound to be divisive, and how you feel about it (and I had mixed feelings) will determine if you think the wait was worth it. Or if the movie was worth it.

My score: 60 out of 100

“Thelma”

Genres: Comedy/action

Country: United States

Written and directed by: Josh Margolin

Starring: June Squibb, Richard Roundtree, Fred Hechinger, Parker Posey, Clark Gregg, Malcolm McDowell, Nicole Byer, Coral Peña

Rated: Rated PG-13 for some strong language

Run time: 1 hour, 38 minutes

Release date: Made debut at Sundance Film Festival on Jan. 18, 2024; in theaters June 21, 2024

Where I saw it: Republic Studio 10 Cinemas in Shelbyville, Ind., on a Tuesday evening, $5 as part of the “Super Tuesday” weekly special, six other people in the theater

What it’s about: Set in current day Southern California, Thelma (Squibb), a woman in her 90s living on her own, loses $10,000 when she falls victim to a phone scam. She sets out to find the perpetrators and reclaim her money with the help of a friend (Roundtree as Ben) and his power scooter as her 24-year-old grandson (Hechinger as Danny) tries to locate them.

My take: What if a 93-year-old woman and her 80-something friend, using his two-seater power scooter, embarked on an impossible mission to settle a score? From that simple and fresh concept, Margolin, with a background in standup comedy and making his feature-film debut, has created a film that is deeply personal for him (Thelma is based on his own grandmother) but with universal appeal. “Thelma” is a tender, sometimes melancholy and often humorous (the laughs are more of the chuckles and giggles variety than uproarious) story about what might happen if one woman, in the twilight of her life, stood up for herself when others wouldn’t. Margolin’s work doesn’t mock or exploit older people but instead is an observant look that doesn’t shy away from the issues they face, all of it wrapped in a fun revenge action flick. In one scene, Thelma is looking for someone to help her find those who took advantage of her, and many of the people she tries to contact are incapacitated or dead. In another scene, administrators of a retirement home where Ben lives, after he and Thelma have taken off on their adventure, ask Thelma’s daughter (Posey as Gail) and son-in-law (Gregg as Alan) about Thelma’s health history and they list seemingly every possible condition. Thelma’s quest is framed as a seniors version of “Mission: Impossible,” with many references to the Tom Cruise film series, reliance on technology (in this case hearing aids and medical alert bracelets) and a score, though it has been reworked, that will sound familiar. This isn’t a parody, though; it’s more like a riffing on the Cruise films. Squibb reportedly did many of her own stunts, and there’s something endearing about her rolling over a tall bed the way a police officer in an action movie might slide across the hood of a car. Squibb is a joy to watch in the first starring role of a film career that did not start until she was 60. Roundtree, known as the title character in the “Shaft” movie series for those of us who remember the 1970s, is terrific in his final film role (he died of pancreatic cancer late last year). And Hechinger is likable as what amounts to the doppelganger for the filmmaker, a young man seemingly lost in life but with an unflinching love for his grandmother. Any action movie needs a protagonist to root for. And it’s hard to imagine anyone not rooting for Squibb’s badass but heartwarming Thelma.

My score: 91 out of 100

“Game Night”  (American; 2018; action comedy; running time 1 hour, 40 minutes; directed by John Francis Daley and Jonathan Goldstein, written by Mark Perez; rated R for sexual references, language, some violence; in theaters Feb. 23, 2018, available on VOD services) is a laugh riot from start to finish, a rarity in the era that would immediately follow it. Little here is blatantly politically incorrect, even by today’s standards. Instead, “Game Night” is whip smart, manically paced and wildly entertaining, and it’s humor runs the gamut from rapid-fire one-liners to deadpan reactions to implausible scenarios to physical comedy. Leads Jason Bateman and Rachel McAdams are likable and share a ridiculous amount of chemistry and impeccable comedic timing. And they have lots of help from the supporting cast, especially weirdly wonderful Jesse Plemons. “Game Night” is a winner the likes of which we might not see again soon from a standalone studio comedy.

Bateman is Max and McAdams is Annie, and they are a middle-aged suburban couple who are highly competitive when they and friends play trivia, charades and board games. They are hosting a game night with a couple (Lamorne Morris as Kevin and Kylie Bunbury as Michelle) and a dim-witted friend (Billy Magnussen as Ryan) when Max’s more successful brother (Kyle Chandler as Brooks) arrives and announces he wants to host the next game night in a lavish home he is renting. Brooks promises a game night none of them will soon forget. Turns out the seven of them — Ryan, who has revolving girlfriends, has brought a co-worker Sarah (Sharon Horgan) – will be part of a murder mystery party, with the winner being the first to find whichever one of them is kidnapped. The evening takes a dark turn when the game becomes more than they bargained for and they learn Brooks is not what he seems.

Annie and Max (especially Max) will learn a valuable lesson about not needing to compete against everyone (especially Brooks) and being grateful for what they have, but this is not a lesson sort of movie. This is a laughs sort of movie. And they are all over the place. Most every joke (and they come fast and furious) hits the mark. Just when it seems “Game Night” might be ever so slightly weighed down by the crime portion of the movie, here comes another hilarious bit, another uproarious scene. Like when Annie, using instructions she found on her phone, is trying to cut a bullet out of her husband’s arm and gives Max a dog’s squeaky toy to chew on when the pain gets unbearable. Or when Annie, who has ordered the bad guys (and she thinks they are actors who are part of the game) on the floor of a bar by showing them a yoga move, sings and dances to a jukebox playing Third Eye Blind’s “Semi-Charmed Life” as she uses a loaded handgun as a microphone. Or every scene Plemons is in as Gary, the awkward, recently divorced cop who lives next door to Annie and Max. Gary is a guy just nice enough that the others feel bad about not wanting him to join them on game nights. Plemons delivers the film’s most famous line (“How can that be profitable for Frito-Lay?” when Max tells him they had a three-for-one deal on Tostitos Scoops at the grocery) and perhaps its funniest moments (that’s saying something) when he is holding his dog, Bastian, and talking to the others from inside the door of his house and just sort of slips backwards into the darkness. “Game Night” was a critical and commercial (more than $117 million at the box office) success in a time before COVID and all that came with it, all things Trump (though he was early in the second year of his presidency when this came out and, yes, the movie includes a Trump joke), the storming of the U.S. Capitol, the George Floyd killing by police, persistent inflation, etc. All of it makes “Game Night” feel dated for a movie just six years old. But maybe we could use more laughs like these.

My score: 92 out of 100

“The Exorcism”

Genres: Supernatural horror/drama

Country: United States

Directed by: Joshua John Miller

Written by: Miller and M.A. Fortin

Starring: Russell Crowe, Ryan Simpkins, Sam Worthington, Chloe Bailey, Adam Goldberg, Adrian Pasdar, David Hyde Pierce

Rated: Rated R for language, some violent drug content, sexual references, brief drug use

Run time: 1 hour, 35 minutes

Release date: In theaters June 21, 2024

Where I saw it: AMC Classic Columbus 12 in Columbus, Ind., on a Saturday afternoon, $6.49 with senior discount, 10 other people in the theater

What it’s about: A washed-up actor (Crowe as Anthony Miller) who slipped into alcoholism and drug abuse when his wife became ill and died, is hired for a starring role as the priest in a movie resembling “The Exorcist,” but he begins to unravel during shooting. His troubled teen daughter (Simpkins as Lee), who is on set after getting kicked out of boarding school, wonders if her father is reverting to his self-destructive behavior of if more sinister forces are at work.

My take: “The Exorcism” shares heritage with 1973’s “The Exorcist,” the gold standard for demonic possession movies. Director/co-writer Miller’s father, playwright Jason Miller, earned an Academy Award nomination for his role as Father Damien Karras in “The Exorcist,” and the filming of the movie within the movie in “The Exorcism,” called “The Georgetown Project” (many of the scenes in “The Exorcist” were filmed at Georgetown University in Washington, D.C.), recalls the reported strange happenings on the set of the 1973 film. But the current release is no “The Exorcist” and is instead more on par with 2023’s “The Exorcist: Believer.” The meta movie approach is a promising concept, and undoubtedly this is a personal work for Miller. And Crowe delivers a sound performance, one that could have been showy and a self-parody in the wrong hands. But the rest of the cast delivers mixed results; the going is oh so slow until the final act, when anything and everything happens; and the story takes a couple of tangents that seem extraneous. Goldberg’s Peter, an abusive director of “The Georgetown Project” who pushes Crowe’s character by reminding him of all his past transgressions and abuse he suffered as a child in the Catholic church, describes his movie as “a psychological drama wrapped in a horror movie,” and that’s an apt description of “The Exorcism,” with the horror mostly limited to the gonzo final act. Everything before that is about an actor’s personal demons. A couple of moments are horror-worthy, including when Crowe’s character sits at the end of a wooden table and continually pounds his head into it. Simpkins is decent, but her role is hamstrung by being a stereotype, and a romance she is part of seems pointless. The angle about abuse in the Catholic church is just a plot-driver here. Crowe makes this tolerable, barely, until it’s all-out demonic possession fun time.

My score: 47 out of 100

“Trigger Warning”  (American; 2024; action/thriller; running time 1 hour, 26 minutes; directed by Mouly Surya, written by John D. Brancato, Josh Olson and Halley Wegryn Gross; rated TV-MA for language, smoking, violence; available June 21, 2024, on Netflix) includes a character named Elvis. When Elvis storms into a home looking for someone and then leaves, one of the residents says (and I’m not making this up), “Elvis has left the building.” Think that’s clever? Do I have a movie for you. Billed as a comeback (and Netflix specializes in these things) for Jessica Alba, whose previous film appearance was something called “Killers Anonymous” (released five years ago and inexplicably passed over for the Oscars), “Trigger Warning” is, in a word, terrible beyond all description. But I will attempt to describe it. Laughably bad performances, laughably bad dialogue, laughably bad situations, laughably bad choreographed dancing (or was it fighting?), laughably bad clichés … well, there’s only so many laughably bads. How this got green-lit and produced by even Netflix (not known for its unimpeachable standards) is one of life’s great mysteries. And why Alba got involved would be a mystery except, a) her calendar apparently wasn’t full and, b) money.

Alba is Parker, a special forces commando who is not only highly skilled in weaponry and hand-to-hand combat but also is impervious to close-range machine-gun fire. That’s beneficial when you’re in special forces. Parker is in the Syrian desert and has just taken care of some baddies when she gets a call telling her that her father back home in (they don’t really say, but it seems like Texas) was found dead inside a collapsed cave. The local sheriff, Jesse Swann (Mark Webber), who used to have a thing with Parker, jumps to all sorts of conclusions and suggests Parker’s aging father took his own life. She’s not having any part of that. Parker’s father has left her a bar in what seems like the most remote part of whatever state this is, but she’s not having any part of that either. Parker wants to unravel the mystery of her father’s death, and she wants to drink heavily, smoke a lot of weed and break all sorts of laws – the kinds of things that suggest a remarkable lack of discipline for someone in special forces. The plot, as they say, thickens, but not in an interesting way. Turns out all of this has something to do with a nearby military installation, and all sorts of high-powered weapons at said military installation, and Elvis (Jake Weary as Elvis Swann, and there’s that last name again), and a Trump-like incumbent state senator (Anthony Michael Hall as Ezekiel – no, really, and you’ve guessed this next part – Swann) and the dark web, and the black market, and domestic terrorists and … as Sheriff Swann of Swann County (yep) says, Timothy McVeigh-level stuff. Will Parker get to the bottom of this? You bet she will. It’s Alba’s movie.

Alba was never Frances McDormand or Emma Stone, but she is, presumably, capable of better. She sleepwalks through her comeback, at least until it’s time to fight (which is about every 30 seconds), at which point she stiffly maneuvers through implausible and over-choreographed combat sequences. The rest of the cast isn’t any better. I’d like to think most of the players knew that this wouldn’t be taken seriously, but you wouldn’t know it from their performances. In their defense (if one is needed), they have the misfortune of having to deliver inane, groan-inducing lines. And those are the ones that make sense. In one scene, Parker calls a guy a few feet away holding a live, activated grenade (!) a “dumb piece of sh*t” but five seconds later tells him, “You’re smarter than this.” Which is it? Not that it matters, but there is more, like police radio chatter that describes Parker as age 30 but a flashback (and there’s plenty) that shows her graduating from high school in 2002, which would make her 39 or 40 (for the record, Alba is 43). Oh well. To its credit, “Trigger Warning” ends. An ending wouldn’t have been necessary if it had never started. But it did.

My score: 5 out of 100

“The Bikeriders”

Genres: Drama/crime

Country: United States

Directed by: Jeff Nichols

Written by: Nichols, based on the 1967 photo-book of the same name by Danny Lyons

Starring: Jodie Comer, Austin Butler, Tom Hardy, Michael Shannon, Mike Faist, Norman Reedus, Boyd Holbrook, Damon Herriman, Beau Knapp, Emory Cohen, Karl Glusman, Toby Wallace, Happy Anderson

Rated: Rated R for violence, some drug use, language throughout, attempted sexual assault

Run time: 1 hour, 56 minutes

Release date: In theaters June 20, 2024

Where I saw it: Studio 10 Cinemas in Shelbyville, Ind., on a Thursday night, $5 with Senior Thursday discount, three other people in theater

What it’s about: Set in the second half of the 1960s and early 1970s, Kathy (Comer), who married Benny (Butler), a member of the Chicago-based Vandals Motorcycle Club, recalls the story of the Vandals and their leader, Johnny (Hardy), and how the club evolved; how Benny was torn between his loyalty to the club and his wife’s desire for him to stop riding motorcycles; how Johnny wanted a reluctant Benny to take over the club; and how Johnny’s leadership was challenged by a young gang leader (Wallace as “The Kid”).

My take: Stellar performances from throughout the cast (but especially from leads Comer, Butler and Hardy) lift the “Goodfellas”-esque “The Bikeriders” as much as they can and are this movie’s selling point. Comer, in a movie about tough guys trying to out-macho other tough guys, practically steals the show as the storyteller and the female voice of reason, a woman who doesn’t always understand why the motorcycle club exists or what the point of it is but also doesn’t fully grasp why she was lured into the motorcycle club lifestyle. Butler, whose career keeps climbing, smolders as Benny, a quiet James Dean type who lives life by his rules and might not be the smartest person in the room. The versatile Hardy goes all Marlon Brando as Johnny, who sees the club slipping away from its original purpose, an excuse for guys to hang out together, drink a lot of beer, smoke a lot of cigarettes and ride motorcycles. The primary theme of “The Bikeriders” is about the changing of the guard in the turbulent late 1960s. Johnny, a no-nonsense and surprisingly naive truck driver by trade, finds himself caught in the middle of the societal changes. Shannon, Holbrook and Reedus stand out in supporting roles. Though the cast’s efforts are worth the cost of admission, “The Bikeriders” is a superficial, beautifully shot though occasionally violent look at the motorcycle club lifestyle. Not much here, including the characters, has depth to it. Though I wasn’t bored or agitated, nothing here connected emotionally or was more than so-so entertaining. If you don’t have an interest in the motorcycle club lifestyle, rampant masculinity or watching people constantly smoke cigarettes, this might feel like a long ride to nowhere in particular.

My score: 53 out of 100