This week’s two new releases, Timur Bekmambetov’s Mercy and Sam Raimi’s Send Help, approach contemporary genre cinema through two familiar infrastructures of suspense: the tribunal and the survival scenario. Let me be clear, I am a huge fan of both directors! However, both films announce high-concept premises—one grounded in algorithmic justice, the other in workplace humiliation transposed into a desert-tropical-island revenge fantasy—yet each also reveals how quickly an appealing hook can be constrained by formula.
by Hudson Moura Avatar: Fire and Ash shifts the series in a direction that’s both bold and uneasy. For two films,…
James L. Brooks returns to his home terrain—the workplace comedy of manners—and Ella McCay fits squarely in that lineage: quick, unshowy dialogue; ethical stakes embedded in institutional routine; an empathic camera for professionals negotiating ideals and pragmatism.
Fuller leans into a dioramic mise en scène, with meticulous color palettes, centered compositions, and handmade textures that recall Wes Anderson’s storybook control, Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s craft, and Michel Gondry’s tactile whimsy. Performance anchors the collage. Sloan gives Aurora a poised, unsettling watchfulness—both little girl and budding dramaturge of her own world—a revelatory performance. Mikkelsen plays the neighbor as a near-silent vector of violence whose competence edges, gradually, toward care. He’s a dark mirror of the “protector” Aurora craves. Sigourney Weaver is a mordant delight as a curt “madame” of contract killers, a queenpin who organizes death like a cotillion and steals every scene with a raised eyebrow.
Freyne’s Eternity imagines the afterlife as a one-week junction where Joan must choose between Larry—the ordinary life built over sixty-five years (the “beach”)—and Luke—the preserved intensity of first love (the “mountain”). Guided by mordantly comic coordinators and a cinema-museum that screens her past, the film hovers between drama and comedy, sometimes diffusing its moral clarity amid a catalog of whimsical “worlds.” Yet, by reframing Casablanca’s duty-versus-desire calculus as self-authorship rather than geopolitics, it locates a quiet grace: eternity becomes not reward but the age, mood, and truth one is willing to inhabit, asking whether we choose the life we imagined or the life we faithfully lived.
Predator: Badlands recenters the franchise on Yautja subjectivity, opening with an opaque, hyper-Darwinian filicide that gestures toward myth and ethology but leaves the political and emotional stakes underdeveloped. Exiled to Genna—a lab-like killing ground—Dek’s arc gains momentum through his bond with Thia, a half-bodied synthetic whose wit, care, and tactical acumen reframe survival as collaboration; their alliance is complicated by her concealed mandate and a corporate clone-sister, Tessa, crystallizing the series’ critique of biopolitical engineering. Trachtenberg delivers vivid landscapes and kinetic set-pieces, yet the clan tragedy feels rushed and thematically thin. Most compelling is the film’s inversion of moral coordinates—the most “human” is a damaged robot, the most ethical hunter an alien—even as the franchise’s core mystique erodes: the Predator becomes a tender, emotionally legible hero, and the techno-sublime arsenal is traded for natural materials and animal allies, yielding a thoughtful but demystified, almost artisanal survivalism.
Colin Hanks signs a warm, craft-conscious portrait that follows John Candy from his Toronto’s vanished childhood cinema and SCTV days to Hollywood stardom and home life, pairing sharp testimonies with clips that show—rather than tell—his generosity, timing, and enduring charm.
by Hudson Moura Scott Derrickson’s Black Phone 2 pivots the franchise from basement horror to oneiric fantasia. After a brief prologue…
by Hudson Moura Scott Cooper’s SPRINGSTEEN: Deliver Me from Nowhere sets itself a clean, compelling brief: track the making of…
by Hudson Moura Michelle Garza Cervera’s reworking of The Hand That Rocks the Cradle aims to refit the early-’90s domestic thriller to…
by Hudson Moura The conversation about “straight-to-streaming” releases is no longer about dumping weak titles, rather it’s about calibrating audience,…
by Hudson Moura Darren Aronofsky’s first post-The Whale pivot is a full-throttle genre swerve: a bruised, breathless caper-thriller set in 1990s…
by Hudson Moura “Free borders, free bodies, free choices, free fucking fear!” Perfidia (Teyana Taylor) spits at Col. Steven J.…
by Hudson Moura In Him (2025), director Justin Tipping and producer Jordan Peele deliver a surreal, psychologically charged descent into…
by Hudson Moura Written and directed by Shawn Simmons, Eenie Meanie is a gender-flipped car-chase thriller that never quite decides whether it…
by Hudson Moura Matt Shakman’s The Fantastic Four: First Steps (2025) is a daring blend of nostalgic pastiche and futuristic spectacle, reinventing…
by Hudson Moura In Superman (2025), written and directed by James Gunn, the iconic Kryptonian returns not just to save…
by Hudson Moura In Materialists, Canado-Korean playwright-turned-filmmaker Celine Song (Past Lives) returns with a romantic dramedy that cleverly interrogates the tensions…
by Hudson Moura With a title that playfully riffs on Die Hard, Bride Hard arrives as an action-comedy hybrid that attempts to blend…
by Hudson Moura Three decades after Tom Cruise first took on the role of Ethan Hunt, Mission Impossible: The Final Reckoning…
Hudson Moura As a film critic for Radio-Canada, I am embracing a new approach to my reviews. While I typically…



















