The Best New TV Shows & Movies This Week: 'The Hunt,' 'Better Call Saul,' and More

Image via Complex

Where to Watch: HBO Now

In the series finale, we see all major plot points come to their long-awaited conclusions in the most gruesome fashion. Most of the episode is about tying everything up neatly while adding a bunch of death into the package. Beginning with the shootout by the caves, we see characters we’ve followed throughout the series get axed in a matter of seconds. The toughest death to digest was Andy’s, mainly because we won’t see the relationship between him and Holly develop further. 

We see a tragic ending for Jack—one where he’s literally torturing himself to his death. It’s somewhat of a head scratch that he waited until mid-massacre to turn his back on El Cuco, at the expense of so many lives including his colleagues. But maybe Holly Gibney screaming “Damn you to hell” is enough to break a crazed man out of his demonic spell. After watching his nearly sadistic descent into madness, it’s almost a relief that we no longer have to watch the most painful crux of the series.    

Despite being in a cave that’s teetering towards collapse, Ralph decides to have his final say with El Cuco. After finally coming around to believe in its existence, he’s determined to completely destroy it. He seems unfazed by its absolute monstrosity, especially as it morphs into the faces of its past victims (Terry, Heath, Maria) before bludgeoning it to its final death. He is, however, haunted by the apparitions of the ultimate victims—the murdered children in the caves. This leaves us to wonder whether anyone, including the wrongly accused murderers, will ever receive true justice from this calamity.  

Finally, it’s time to figure out what exactly is going on with the mid-credits scene (for those who caught it). The series seems to strongly suggest that there is going to be a second season but the first season could very well just stand on its own. The idea of us not knowing what will happen to Holly, the most formidable and capable character, would be the perfect mic drop to a series heavily built on gradual, sometimes eerily slow, suspense. Whether the show moves forward with another season or not, it was an intriguing experiment that mixed true crime with mythology in a way that only Stephen King could conjure. It’s a closer look at how justice can’t supplant grief or provide true explanation to crimes that exist in our reality. The payoff is not necessarily from the closure of the case but the fact that all of the characters accept the unexplainable. Adding the boogeyman into the mix is entertaining as hell though. —Andie Park

Where to Watch: AMC

When thinking about this week’s episode of Better Call Saul, I was really struck by a tweet from a friend of mine boiling down the ethos of the show into this: “[Better Call Saul is] the best TV show ever made about what it means to ‘be good’ vs. ‘do good.’” Nothing gets at the heart of this better than “Namaste,” which sees Kim (Rhea Seehorn) try and find ways to push back against the institutional red tape she’s found herself immersed in with Mesa Verde.

“Namaste” picks up the morning after Kim and Jimmy’s (Bob Odenkirk) rager of a night with Kim setting out to execute on a ‘be good’ approach. Feeling guilty over how she handled the conversation with Evertt Acker (Barry Corbin), Kim suggests an alternate plan to Mesa Verde which involves an approach that lets the company get their project and sees Acker retain his land. Of course, this doesn’t fly with the Masa Verde crew, so Kim’s ‘do good’ approach involves...Saul. After watching the “magic man” pull some major chicanery in court, Kim enlists Jimmy’s skill in skirting the law to good use by having him represent Acker—and presumably set up an inevitable showdown between Saul and Kim.

By putting her finger, ever so slightly, on the scales of justice, Kim is absolutely playing with fire. The tension between doing good and being good drives the core of Kim’s decision making, but how much longer can she play this game before it gets too far ahead of her? The moral arc of the Better Call Saul/Breaking Bad universe says that it won’t be sustainable for too much longer. When it crashes down, it’s going to fall hard. —William Goodman

Where to Watch: In theaters

It may be jarring to see that Damon Lindelof and Nick Cuse, the two minds behind emotionally rich and thought-provoking material like The Leftovers' final season (an all-timer series finale, IYKYK) and HBO's Watchmen (one of the very best TV offerings of '19) are also the duo who have now bestowed upon us...The Hunt. The action thriller aims to be a B-movie tongue-in-cheek reflection of the animosity growing from our ever-trenchant political divisions; it's also the poster child for Mindless Dumb Fun. There's nothing deep or impressive about The Hunt beyond the challenge that lies in its premise: it'd be too easy to write a thriller about evil right-wing nutjobs hunting earnest liberals. Instead, Lindelof and Cuse, sickos that they are, flip the script: it's painfully-woke liberal elites taking out their frustrations on our dumb president and his even dumber constituents by, well, hunting them for sport.

A few notes: one, Lindelof maintains a staunchly vocal and decidedly anti-45 political presence on his personal Instagram so this shouldn't be taken as either propaganda or some All Lives Matter bullshit. The script's development also traces back to pre-Leftovers Season 3 and certainly pre-Watchmen—its 2019 release was delayed both after several mass shootings and Trump's direct rebuke of the film. (Timing is everything: had this film been slated one week later, it would've likely gone the way of the similarly perma-shelved New Mutants, doomed to potentially never see the light of day.) And the screenplay hardly lets either the victims or the perpetrators off the hook. They're all horrible; anyone who has a Twitter account knows even the well-meant left is full of insufferable people who wield their wokeness either pretentiously or performatively.

With that being said, the movie is, objectively, quite fun. The timeline clears things up but even if Lindelof and Cuse had written this post the racially-charged offerings of Watchmen, I wouldn't begrudge them a little throat clearing. In this exhausting election year, this might be the unplug popcorn fun we need. Or it might dangerously inflame things. Provocation isn't really the aim here though, especially given a late-third act twist involving Betty Gilpin's character. And speaking of her: more, please. Gilpin is a star, Swank snarls beautifully, the action is well-choreographed, and the casting is deceptively brilliant. We don't do stars here but, 3 outta 5. —Frazier Tharpe

Where to Watch: In theaters and on Hulu

Coming-of-age tales are a dime-a-dozen but a cliche is a cliche for a reason, right? There isn't anything particularly revelatory about writer-director Jason Orley's debut film, which follows a sensitive if impressionable teen (Griffin Gluck, Sam from American Vandal—you're welcome, it was bothering me the entire film) and his doomed friendship with a drain-circling slacker six years his senior. Mo and Zeke (Pete Davidson) connect via the latter dating the former's sister, but theirs is the real relationship of the movie. Long after Mo's sister Kate (Emily Arlook—Nomi from grown-ish, you're welcome) ages out of her high-school attraction to Zeke, he and Mo's bond persists and strengthens, much to their father Jon Cryer (played by Jon Cryer)'s chagrin. When Mo starts using Zeke's status as a 21+ pothead to supply the cool kids with drugs and alcohol, you already know where the story's headed. But there are little zigs and zags that keep things both contemporary and fresh; much of the delight lies in the performances. Typically it's gauche when rappers opt to use their government name in movie credits, but MGK—seen here as Zeke's even more burnout of a friend—really might have it in him to pivot to Colson Baker, actor if he wants. Sydney Sweeny can totally dominate the alluring Dime of Your Dreams lane if she so chooses. 

And Pete? Well with Zeke's bleached blond hair (there is a Slim Shady joke and against all odds, it totally lands), a fashion sense that looks like he robbed Round Two, and a quirky self-aware exasperated charm that somehow morphs into magnetism, it's hard to delineate where Pete ends and Zeke begins. Still, screen presence is everything and Davidson has it, whether you want to give Davidson a demerit for arguably playing himself or not. And given how much more assured of himself he seems here than on stage as himself in his recent stand-up special, maybe that question answers itself. Coronavirus has delayed the Month of Pete from reaching completion with King of Staten Island's SXSW premiere (his Judd Apatow-directed pseudo-biopic). But even if we weren't all locked inside with infinite time on our hands, Big Time Adolescence is worth a rec and that's in large credit to him. Let's see what he does with it. —Frazier Tharpe