Joey Bigornia

The Amateur (2025) wants to be a gritty spy thriller, but it’s hard to care when your lead is as unlikeable as Rami Malek’s character. You spend most of the film wondering what his dead wife (played by Rachel Brosnahan) ever saw in him. Malek delivers every line with the charisma of a sleep-deprived substitute teacher, and by the midpoint, I caught myself thinking, “What a dweeb.” The tension falls flat, the plot goes nowhere fast, and honestly? I was rooting for the terrorists. A thriller where you want the hero to lose isn’t thrilling—it’s just exhausting.

Twisters is a failed reboot of the original Twister, a film that once thrilled audiences with its intense action and charismatic cast. The 1996 classic had Bill Paxton, Helen Hunt, Alan Ruck (yep, the guy from Succession), and the unforgettable Philip Seymour Hoffman. This new version? A motley crew of annoying, thoroughly unlikeable characters who make you long for the charm of the original. By the halfway point, I found myself rooting for the twisters rather than the people. The stakes feel low, the drama forced, and the magic of storm-chasing is replaced with a mess of CGI and bland performances. If you’re expecting the heart and excitement of the original, prepare to be disappointed.

Daddio is exactly what you’d expect from a movie starring two of the most insufferable actors in Hollywood—Dakota Johnson and Sean Penn. It’s a talky, pretentious slog that feels like it’s trying to be deep, but instead just ends up boring you to death. The dialogue drags on, offering little substance and even less entertainment. I heard this film flopped, and frankly, it deserved every bit of that failure. Aside from Fifty Shades, has Dakota Johnson ever been in a movie that didn’t bomb? And Sean Penn? Please, it’s time to step off the stage. Daddio is a total waste of time, best avoided unless you’re a glutton for punishment.

The 2024 remake of The Crow is a muddled, convoluted mess that fails to capture the dark beauty of the original. Rupert Sanders, once again proving he’s a hack director, offers a plot so weak and confusing, it’s hard to care about anything that happens. FKA Twigs as Shelley? A charisma black hole—her performance is flat, and she brings nothing to the role. Bill Skarsgård and Danny Huston do their best to inject some life into the proceedings, but it’s a losing battle. Despite their efforts, the film stumbles from one incoherent scene to the next, making you wonder why anyone thought this remake was a good idea. The Crow deserved better.

Night Shift is a classic ‘80s comedy that owes most of its charm to Michael Keaton, who absolutely steals the show in a supporting role. Every time Keaton hits the screen, the movie comes alive with energy and wit. Shelley Long is at her peak, never looking better, and it’s fun to catch early glimpses of future stars like Kevin Costner and Shannen Doherty before they hit the big time. But poor Henry Winkler—Night Shift proves that even friendship with director Ron Howard can’t guarantee a good role. Winkler’s character is a bland, wimpy dud, a far cry from his Fonz glory days. You can’t help but wonder if he felt shortchanged by his old Happy Days buddy. Still, with Keaton in the mix, the film remains a fun, quirky ride that’s well worth a rewatch.

'Natural Born Killers' was misunderstood when it first hit theaters, but time has revealed it as one of Oliver Stone’s most rewatchable films—right up there with 'Any Given Sunday'. It’s a frenetic, stream-of-consciousness masterpiece that throws subtlety out the window and dives headfirst into chaos. Every performance is weird and wonderful, with Woody Harrelson and Juliette Lewis delivering career-defining turns as media-fueled monsters. The eclectic soundtrack only adds to the madness, fusing genres like the film itself fuses reality and delirium. Sure, maybe everyone on set was coked up, but that only seems to have heightened the electric energy coursing through this movie. Stone didn’t just make a film; he created a frenzied, violent work of art that still feels ahead of its time.

Madame Web is a cinematic disaster, easily claiming the title of worst movie of 2024. Starring the perpetually underwhelming Dakota Johnson, who seems to coast on her famous last name rather than any discernible talent, this film is a train wreck from start to finish. It’s baffling how producers continue to cast her when she brings so little to the table—unless that table is already set by more talented relatives. What’s even more miraculous is how Johnson manages to badmouth her own films, as if distancing herself from the inevitable box office flops she’s at the center of. Madame Web is the epitome of wasted potential, and Johnson’s performance is the final nail in its coffin.

Borderlands is a classic case of a movie getting dogpiled simply because it doesn't match up to impossible expectations. It’s based on a video game, folks—did you really expect Rashomon? This is a loud, chaotic, and unapologetically silly popcorn flick that knows exactly what it is. Sure, it’s not high art, but for fans of the game, it’s a perfectly entertaining way to spend two hours. The real tragedy of 2024 cinema isn’t Borderlands; it’s Madame Web. Dakota Johnson’s performance is as lifeless as the script, reminding us that sometimes being related to talent doesn’t mean you have any. In comparison, Borderlands is a breath of fresh, absurd fun.

The Union is exactly what you’d expect from a high-octane action flick—big explosions, thin plot, and enough testosterone to power a small country. It’s the kind of movie where you check your brain at the door and just enjoy the ride. But what makes this particular thrill-ride worthwhile? Halle Berry. She doesn’t just steal scenes; she owns them. Watching her is like seeing a master at work, even when the material is as disposable as yesterday’s popcorn. Sure, The Union might be dumb fun, but when Halle Berry’s on screen, you’re reminded why you came to the movies in the first place.

Penny Dreadful is a gothic symphony of horror, with Eva Green as its brilliant, tormented conductor. In a world where dark fantasy often falls into cliché, this series stands apart, weaving literary legends into a haunting narrative that is both beautiful and terrifying. Eva Green doesn't just play Vanessa Ives; she embodies her, delivering a performance so intense it lingers long after the final credits roll. The show ended far too soon, leaving a void that no other series has quite filled. There’s unfinished business in the shadows of Victorian London, and this cast deserves another act—be it on screen or in a film. Penny Dreadful isn’t just a show; it’s an experience that begs to be resurrected.