The Best Movies of 2019 (So Far)

Director: David F. Sandberg

Stars: Zachary Levi, Asher Angel, Mark Strong, Jack Dylan Grazer, Djimon Hounsou

Studio: Warner Bros. Pictures

If I were tasked with retooling DC’s movie-verse, I would’ve had Shazam! as the jump-off point—or, at the very least, have him be my Ant-Man. The Zachary Levi-starring flick was, simply, a lot of fun. They found a way to tell a tale that takes place in a world that knows of Superman, but do it solidly with kid-glasses on. There’s loads of humor, a decent enough main villain, and some surprise cameos (GIVE MEAGAN GOOD HER OWN SUPERHERO FRANCHISE TODAY) that give it dope replay value. Where Shazam will fit in DC’s universe is anyone’s guess, but I’d be down for a sequel whenever the Warners are ready. —khal

Director: Robert Rodriguez

Stars: Rosa Salazar, Christoph Waltz, Jennifer Connelly, Mahershala Ali, Ed Skrein

Studio: 20th Century Fox

Alita: Battle Angel was a fun ride from beginning to end. Directed by Robert Rodriguez and written for the screen by James Cameron and Laeta Kalogridis, Battle Angel is campy in a good way, and the action is so well paced I barely noticed that I was watching a bootleg version of the film. I have no clue if it stayed true to the manga series of the same name, but the visuals did feel as if I was watching a comic book come to life, something Rodriguez has experience in (see: Sin City). I would be down for a sequel.

Also, what’s really good with Jennifer Connelly’s eyes? She can carry a scene with those things. They were the best special effects of the film, TBH. —Angel Diaz

Director: Chris Smith (FYRE) / Jenner Furst and Julia Willoughby Nason (Fyre Fraud)

Stars: n/a

Studio: Netflix (FYRE) / Hulu (Fyre Fraud)

Heads have been debating the Fyre Fest documentaries for a bit, but for the full story on that colossal batch of fuckery, you need to take in both documentaries. If you want to get an awesome inside glimpse at how these swindlers finessed the rich, using their own footage, you need to head to the simply titled FYRE documentary on Netflix; it also includes that insane blowjob story from Andy King that went hella viral. If you want to get a better understanding of how people could be scammed, with some hilariously frustrating interviews with King Scammer Billy McFarland? Hulu’s Fyre Fraud has you covered. That said, once you take both of these in, we don’t wanna hear shit about a Fyre Fest until there’s a People v. O.J. Simpson-esque series done on it. —khal

Director: A.T. White

Stars: Virginia Gardner, Christina Masterson, Eric Beecroft

Studio: We Are Tessellate / 3Roundburst Productions / Spellbound Entertainment 

Starring Virginia Gardner, who played the babysitter in the latest Halloween film and the alien-esque teen in Marvel’s Runaways, Starfish is trying to do a lot. While the trailer paints it as a more straightforward, A Quiet Place-style horror flick, the actual film is more about how those left behind deal with the passing of a loved one. The horror elements are still there, but they’re wrapped in a tale featuring some gigantic creature(s) that prowl on the low. Somehow it’s also about mixtapes that contain frequencies that could be the key to ridding the world of these creatures, but mostly that is used to craft left-field mini music videos set to the type of shit you’d hear at an Urban Outfitters, for good or ill. Gardner spends most of this film alone (save for the CGI’d monster, her conversations on a walkie-talkie, and one meta-moment that doesn’t seem to do much more than make viewers say “wait, what?”), and she’s the film’s saving grace. While underwhelming, there are some beautiful things that Starfish has buried inside of it. —khal

Director: Neil Jordan

Stars: Isabelle Huppert, Chloë Grace Moretz, Maika Monroe, Colm Feore, Stephen Rea

Studio: Focus Features

Like Ma, Greta is about an older woman who preys on the youth. Also like Ma, Greta hinges on the performance of its lead; Octavia Spencer did a tremendous job in a weak horror flick, and Isabelle Huppert surprises as an old woman hell-bent on keeping her “friends” around by any means necessary. Unlike Ma, the film surrounding Huppert’s Greta is solid. Greta actually finds a way to make this sweet old lady creepy as hell very early on. It felt like it went on a little longer than it needed to, but with a satisfying ending, Greta is the right kind of horror camp. —khal

Director: Rob Letterman

Stars: Ryan Reynolds, Justice Smith, Kathryn Newton, Suki Waterhouse, Omar Chaparro, Chris Geere, Ken Watanabe, Bill Nighy

Studio: Warner Bros. Pictures

What looked like one of the most crass commercial film calculations of the year—melding Ryan Reynolds’ crude Deadpool deadpan with the beloved Pokémon franchise—turned out to be one of the most original and thoughtful studio films of 2019 so far.

Pokémon Detective Pikachu uses a typical film-noir-meets-buddy-cop comedy structure to explore the surprisingly textured world of Ryme City (Tokyo meets New York by way of the Poké-verse). You get the sense that the filmmakers have thought of exactly how every Pokémon fits into this more grown-up world, and that you could ask them an obscure question about Ryme City’s Chamber of Commerce and they would have the answer. 

Another pleasant surprise is that the film excels when it comes to physical comedy, delivering unexpectedly hilarious sequences with Poké favorites like Psyduck and Mr. Mime. Oddly, the film owes as much to screwball comedy as it does to film noir. You finish laughing just in time to realize you’re also feeling an unexpected emotional pull from this ridiculous, meticulously crafted world. 

It’s a difficult feat for a film like this to succeed as a mystery and family-friendly spin through existing IP. Somehow Detective Pikachu manages both with a level of originality and humor that feels above and beyond the call of duty. —Brenden Gallagher

Director: Jim Jarmusch

Stars: Bill Murray, Adam Driver, Tilda Swinton, Chloë Sevigny, Steve Buscemi, Danny Glover, Caleb Landry Jones

Studio: Focus Features

You ever thought about what a Jim Jarmusch-directed zombie comedy would look and sound like? The picture in your head is basically The Dead Don’t Die. It might not be for everyone; if you aren’t already into what Jarmusch does with the medium, you might not be ready for the deadpan humor coming from the A-list cast (who else could get Kylo Ren, the Ancient One, and Bill Murray in the same zombie comedy?). The film does suffer a bit in its back half, but we’ve seen way worse from the zombie genre. —khal

Director: Jonathan Levine

Stars: Seth Rogen, Charlize Theron, O'Shea Jackson Jr., Andy Serkis

Studio: Lionsgate

Long Shot could have been such a bad movie. A lesser script would have combined the easy schlub-meets-vixen comedy of The King of Queens with the pretentious political posturing of Aaron Sorkin’s worst impulses. But, somehow, the film works almost perfectly. 

The secret to Long Shot’s success is that it treats every one of its characters with empathy, even when churning out laughs at their expense. Seth Rogen’s self-righteous Brooklyn political journalist Fred Flarsky could have easily been a shallow parody, but his dedication to truth-telling at the expense of his career is admirable, reminiscent of journalists who would prefer to make pennies at their treasured alt-weeklies and investigative blogs than compromise their work. Charlize Theron’s Charlotte Field could have been presented as a politically ambitious ice queen, but instead, we see her internal struggle: She has an idealistic heart that has been beaten into submission by political realities.

While Long Shot hasn’t been as buzzy as some other comedies this year, this is a film that is destined to be on lists of the best romcoms when it is revisited as an underappreciated gem. —Brenden Gallagher

Director: Nahnatchka Khan

Stars: Ali Wong, Randall Park

Studio: Netflix

The Earth is burning up, LeBron missed the Finals… nothing lasts forever. Except the romcom, which we can always turn to for an escape. Starring and co-written by Ali Wong and Randall Park, Always Be My Maybe is a fun, endearing entry in the popcorn canon.

Underachieving Marcus Kim (Park) and overachieving Sasha Tran (Wong) were next-door neighbors and best friends secretly in love with each other growing up. Sixteen years later, she’s a world-famous celebrity chef, while he works for his dad and has never left their San Francisco community. They reconnect and get a shot at being the couple they always wanted to be, but her career, his hangups, and Keanu Reeves (!) threaten to keep them apart. With acute dialogue, a dope soundtrack, and an Asian-led cast, Always Be My Maybe is a modern romcom that sneaks in themes of class, grief, and gentrification while still giving you all the feels. —Dria Roland

Director: Sebastián Lelio

Stars: Julianne Moore, John Turturro, Michael Cera

Studio: A24

Julianne Moore is already a national treasure, but seeing her own every inch of A24’s Gloria Bell (an English-language remake of the Chilean-Spanish Gloria, from 2013) certifies it. Gloria is a woman searching for something; she’s a divorcee with two adult children and no real life. She goes to age-appropriate clubs to go dancing, then goes to a thankless job. She’s an American everywoman, which is the beauty of a film like this. Moore finds a way to dig her heels into a character who would seemingly be like any random working mother you’d see in the street and highlight just why she is special in her own way. Kudos to John Turturro as well for playing Moore’s romantic interest; hopefully we can see him sink his teeth into such a subtly meaty role like Moore was able to here. —khal

Director: J. C. Chandor

Stars: Ben Affleck, Oscar Isaac, Charlie Hunnam, Garrett Hedlund, Pedro Pascal

Studio: Netflix

I love bad movies. Like, I LOVE bad movies. If you follow me, you know this. Naturally, I was drawn to Triple Frontier because it looked absolutely ridiculous and I love Ben Affleck. Plus it’s on Netflix? All the way in. Nothing like watching a bad movie in the comfort of your own home. 

I actually don’t know what this film is about. Obviously, a bunch of ex-army guys steal some money, but there are so many plot holes that it's almost impossible to follow. The big heist scene played out like they were shopping at Home Depot on a Saturday. They killed the bad guy so easily that I was very sure that there had to be, like, another bigger bad guy waiting. No, it was just these dudes making the worst possible decisions while losing all of the money they had just stolen. With even the slightest degree of common sense, these guys would all be alive and super rich. But no, Ben Affleck gets shot in the head and they’re all poor. I’m sure there are deeper themes about greed and whatnot, but zzz, just give me action and excitement. I will say I was shocked, SHOCKED, when Affleck got popped. What a moment. Might be Oscar-worthy. —Zach Frydenlund

Director: Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck

Stars: Brie Larson, Samuel L. Jackson, Ben Mendelsohn, Jude Law, Annette Bening

Studio: Marvel Studios

With Captain Marvel, it feels like Marvel Studios spent the two-hour film ticking off boxes. Establish Captain Marvel firmly in the MCU’s timeline? Check. Add some flesh to Nick Fury’s backstory? Definitely. Give Annette Bening a chance to collect a Disney bag with a bunch of CGI around her? Let’s do it. Brie Larson was solid enough that I didn’t hate her performance, but with a script that at times strayed too far from what we’ve grown to see as Fury’s personality while occasionally leaning too hard into the “THIS IS ABOUT A STRONG WOMAN IN THE ’90s” bag (did we REALLY need “I’m Just a Girl” to drop during the big fight sequence?), I felt like she was only able to do so much with the film. You get the feeling that, while they’ve fit her in, they are still trying to figure out what her place in the MCU will be, as opposed to cementing her as a true force in their interconnected universe. —khal

Director: Beyoncé Knowles-Carter

Stars: Beyoncé Knowles-Carter

Studio: Netflix

Although Netflix rarely shows its ratings receipts, it was all too happy to report that 828,000 viewers per minute watched HΘMΣCΘMING: A Film by Beyoncé on its April 17 premiere date. Yep, on a random Wednesday, Bey broke the internet once again.

HΘMΣCΘMING documents the painstaking process of how Queen Bey brought The Culture to Coachella with her historic headlining set. In addition to the career-spanning performance onstage, it reveals various iterations of Beyoncé offstage as well—as a boss demanding respect from colleagues not quite in formation, as a woman reconnecting to her body after giving birth, and as an entertainer feeling anxiety as she returned to the stage for the first time in a year.

At one point we learn that Bey and co. rehearsed eight months for the two-hour show, which is evident in the #FLAWLESS finished production. If you walked away with nothing else, HΘMΣCΘMING showed what it takes to be the premier performer of your generation. —Dria Roland

Director: Harmony Korine

Stars: Matthew McConaughey, Snoop Dogg, Isla Fisher, Jimmy Buffett, Zac Efron, Martin Lawrence, Jonah Hill

Studio: Neon

A stoned-out loner who goes where the wind takes him while he writes his poetry is the role Matthew McConaughey was born to play. The Beach Bum isn’t some Oscar play; it’s a fun, erratic tale of Moondog and his many fuck-ups and adventures. The entire cast seems like they’re freestyling, going off the top of the head as they accept Moondog into their lives as if he never left. Lingerie (Snoop Dogg) is an interesting cat who happens to be a weed-dealing R&B singer always flanked by Miami Jamaicans and Haitians with Uzis. Captain Wack (Martin Lawrence) steals a couple of scenes, giving us some hope for the comedy we have to look forward to in the upcoming Bad Boys for Life. The Beach Bum is everything Spring Breakers wanted to be (I hate that movie with a passion, still). —Angel Diaz

Director: Nia DaCosta

Stars: Tessa Thompson, Lily James, Luke Kirby, James Badge Dale, Lance Reddick

Studio: Neon

Every year, some arthouse thriller catfishes me with the promise of being a micro-budget tour de force, and every year I walk away underwhelmed. Except this year.

Nia DaCosta’s directorial debut, Little Woods, makes good on all its promise. This modern noir sucks you into its dreary rural setting with captivating cinematography reminiscent of genre don Michael Mann’s catalog. This isn’t just a pretty picture, though. Using a script with plenty to say about American women’s modern hardships, Midwestern decay, and the opioid crisis, Tessa Thompson and Lily James bite down to deliver two of the most unnervingly believable performances of their careers. So if you’re in need of a thriller fix, hurry down to whatever little cinema is smart enough to be showing this. For the first time in a long time, you’ll be pleasantly surprised. —Nate Houston

Director: Claire Denis

Stars: Robert Pattinson, Juliette Binoche, André Benjamin, Mia Goth

Studio: A24

I’m wasn’t sure what the fuck was happening in this movie most of the time, but I liked what the GOAT Claire Denis was on. High Life is a mindfuck that takes its time mindfucking you until the very end. There’s a baby on the ship, and everyone is dead except for her and Monte (Robert Pattinson). The story starts to make sense as they embed flashbacks here and there as Monte and the baby try to deal with life in seclusion on this spaceship that’s tumbling through nothingness. André 3000 pops up and sleeps in the garden, which makes sense in an André 3000 kind of way. There’s this doctor (Juliette Binoche) who is meant to look and act like a witch with her mysterious ways. There’s a scene where she’s having wild tantric sex in space in what Tcherny (3 Stacks) calls the “fuck box.” And she channels the devil (maybe?) after she puts a condom on a metal dildo. 

High Life is aptly named because you have to be on some type of drug to make this. Just try not to smoke weed while peeping it unless you enjoy rewinding it every time you start to think about other shit, like snacks or where the Yankees are in the standings. Watch it, though, because Claire Denis makes nothing but art at its highest form. —Angel Diaz

Director: Michael Dougherty

Stars: Kyle Chandler, Vera Farmiga, Millie Bobby Brown, Bradley Whitford, Sally Hawkins, Charles Dance, Thomas Middleditch

Studio: Warner Bros. Pictures

I was thinking about John Wick (as I often am) as I finished watching Godzilla: King of the Monsters, and the expectations of genre movies in these franchise-heavy/IP-laden times. The threequel, which opened just a couple of weeks earlier, is being lauded as one of the best movies of the year, and rightfully so. Why? Because it delivered on its expectations and exceeded them within those confines. We want to see John Wick kill people in surprising, inventive, and balletic ways; that’s what we got at the highest premium. Similarly, all I want from a Godzilla movie, especially one subtitled King of the Monsters, are behemoth kaiju creatures beating the shit out of each other. That’s all anyone should really want from this, no? Until we see James Cameron in the director’s chair on one of these things, there’s no reason to expect a fully realized film that reinvents the monster movie wheel. One that maybe iterates upon the monster-mash action is all we can justifiably hope for. So I don’t know what the critics of this film were expecting, but damn if I wasn’t satisfied watching this on Lincoln Center’s nine-story IMAX. And then some! 

This movie even makes Mothra cool. Literally every wide shot of King Ghidorah is worthy of being a ceiling-art tableau. And the real king? There’s no shortage of badass moments. Gareth Edwards is dope, but even with talent like Elizabeth Olsen and Sally Hawkins in the cut, his more serious take on Godzilla back in 2014 was serviceable, with what aimed for nuance just coming off as dour. With a film that’s already being billed as a lead-in to Godzilla squaring off with King Kong, Michael Dougherty gets to lean into the pulpier elements. King of the Monsters is Ken Watanabe’s “Let them fight” moment on ’roids, with cheat codes like Kyle Chandler, Vera Farmiga, Game of Thrones’ Charles Dance, and especially Bradley Whitford on deck to sell even the hokiest dialogue. Truly, the forced military banter could be worse, as could the necessary family plot at the center. I came to see beasts and aliens duke it out. I left with Dougherty’s clear reverence towards these creatures impressed upon me. —Frazier Tharpe

Director: n/a

Stars: Aretha Franklin

Studio: Neon / Time

Artist Makoto Fujimura—a master of traditionalism and abstract expressionism—has long been a proponent for, as he says, “finding God through art.” “Art,” he has said, “is a way to seek out the truth.” There’s plenty of god and truth in Amazing Grace documentary. Like most things concerning the late, great Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin, the documentary is steeped in lore.

Recorded back in 1972 at the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts, Los Angeles, the footage (which was shot by Sydney Pollack) was locked away for four decades. In the meantime, the album became a runaway hit. Dubbed the best gospel album of all time, Amazing Grace saw Aretha, who, at 29, had become a national treasure, return to the church in a grand way. She performed all the gospel standards with effortless aplomb, reminding everyone of the dexterity that catapulted her to stardom a decade earlier. It’s a powerful performance. One that doesn’t fully come across until you see it. 

The film (which was “produced and realized by Alan Elliott") opens with the shuffling of the choir as they prepare to take the stage, the audience pouring in, and the woman of the hour taking her place front and center. She gets settled a bit and then begins to sing so beautifully it forces you to do a double take to make sure the audio you’re hearing is coming out of the person you’re looking at. It almost seems impossible, and very possibly divine. There’s never been anything like it. And there will likely never be anything like it again. —Damien Scott

Director: Steven Soderbergh

Stars: André Holland, Zazie Beetz, Melvin Gregg, Sonja Sohn, Zachary Quinto, Kyle MacLachlan, Bill Duke

Studio: Netflix

It’s all about fundamentals. 

With High Flying Bird, Steven Soderbergh delivered a simple yet expertly constructed film that has the same clean elegance of a perfect bounce pass or a layup. Often choosing to let the scenes unfold in clean two-person masters peppered with standard close-ups, rarely adding in any cinematic theatrics, Soderbergh puts a thoughtful script in the expert hands of André Holland and trusts the words to speak for themselves.

Superficially, High Flying Bird is about a fictitious NBA lockout and an agent with a plan to end it as quickly as possible. Following a simple heist-like structure, the film uses the space not taken up by excessive plot twists and turns to explore deep issues buried at the heart of professional athletics.

Race, sex, money, and power are all openly discussed, even dissected, in the course of the film. Rather than wallow in the excesses of pro sports like Ballers might, High Flying Bird opts to examine what the culture of professional basketball tells us about life in America. In the NBA, Soderbergh and company find deep beauty and incredible pain. In basketball, High Flying Bird sees some of the best aspects of the American dream and some of the worst aspects of capitalism that threaten to dehumanize us and sap every last bit of joy from the things we are foolish enough to allow ourselves to love. —Brenden Gallagher

Director: Daniel Minahan

Stars: Timothy Olyphant, Ian McShane, Molly Parker, Paula Malcomson, W. Earl Brown

Studio: HBO Films

Before there was Red Dead or Lil Nas X, HBO was championing cowboy culture in its stellar western series, Deadwood. Through three seasons of foulmouthed perfection, we were made to fall in love with every facet of the show. Then, abruptly and before its time, it was torn away from us. Rumors of a feature-length farewell persisted for years, until, finally, HBO announced that in May 2019 our wishes were coming true.

Like your first day back from summer break multiplied by 4,745 is the only way to describe the mix of emotions brought on by the familiar guitar twang intro. Would everyone still be there? What if they’ve changed? Maybe this is a mistake? But then, like the opening bell, Al Swearengen (Ian McShane) utters his first “f***” and you take your seat. You’re back.

Thirteen years removed, the once-tiny manure-filled streets of master scribe David Milch’s creation have been expanded so organically that it’s as if it was you who had left them, not the other way around. After a few small reintroductions, we pick up largely where we’d left off: with our beloved medley of characters locked in a battle with the brilliantly evil George Hearst (Gerald McRaney) for the fate of the town. Whether it be larger subplots, such as the romance between Calamity Jane (Robin Weigert) and Joanie Stubbs (Kim Dickens), or intimate intricacies, like words of wisdom from Charlie Utter (Dayton Callie), all narratives are allotted their due without ever hindering the main plot.

The curtain closes on Deadwood: The Movie without a single decade-old story thread left loose. Cheers to HBO for doing the right thing and providing us with the closure we so desperately needed. But, more importantly, for finally giving one of the best television series of all time the last hoorah it deserves. —Nate Houston

Director: Olivia Wilde

Stars: Kaitlyn Dever, Beanie Feldstein, Jessica Williams, Lisa Kudrow, Will Forte, Jason Sudeikis

Studio: Annapurna Pictures

The logline to get asses in the theater recliners for Booksmart is “Superbad but with women,” of course. Which, sure. The symmetry of Beanie Feldstein picking up where Big Bro Jonah left off is too beautiful to ignore. But let’s not be reductive! Don’t see this hoping for a Superbad gender flip...it’d fall apart if that’s all it was, as most films like it do (Ghostbusters and Ocean’s 8 wave hello from their graves). Instead, it actually has more in common with another Jonah New Classic. One of the most winning aspects of his 21 Jump Street reboot was the way it depicted—or, rather, adapted to—the current ecosystem seen in high schools around the country, specifically the way the archetypes have been upended. Dumb but popular jocks, geeks with no lives but endless acceptance letters, stoners destined to haunt their suburbs as burnouts—those clichés are done. Smart is cool, and not at the expense of a house party, and the stoners might just skip college and go straight to Google. 

In Booksmart, Olivia Wilde’s directorial debut, Beanie and co-lead Kaitlyn Dever (who real TV heads have long known as a capital-T Thespian; Justified waves hi from prestige heaven) missed the memo while missing every teenage rite of passage in service of academic responsibility. With all the standardized tests and papers squared away, we find them cramming in a different capacity, angling to hit every milestone in one night at the graduation eve banger. That they’re not actually invited to. Cue hijinks.

Don’t see Booksmart for a female spin on a plot device you already love. Go see it simply because, as all of us who aren’t playing ourselves know, the teen dramedy—not limited to but especially those set on/or around the last days of school—is one of cinema’s most elite genres and Wilde’s film is a worthy new entry in the pantheon. Kaitlyn kills it,  Beanie bodies this movie so forcefully you’d think comedy is genetic—which it may truly be, considering one of her foils is Cuba Jr.’s junior and the adult supporting cast is stacked with everyone from Lisa Kudrow to Jason Sudeikis, Wilde’s partner. The universe, both the town and the classmates who populate it, feels so lived in it’s a shame this isn’t a new series. —Frazier Tharpe

Director: Jordan Peele

Stars: Lupita Nyong'o, Winston Duke, Elisabeth Moss, Tim Heidecker

Studio: Universal Pictures

Much of the conversation around the release of Us tried to fit the film into the same clean allegorical space that Get Out occupied. But, as we get some critical distance from the film, perhaps we can appreciate that Us isn’t neat and tidy enough to fit into symbolic boxes.

Jordan Peele has invited us to read Us as an allegory for homelessness and poverty. Many critics have happily obliged. But that doesn’t tell the whole story. In Lupita Nyong’o’s performance, you see the weight of imposter syndrome and the fear of not being good enough. In her eyes, you see her questioning why she should be lucky at the expense of someone else. Perhaps this reflects a filmmaker who has encountered sudden success beyond his wildest dreams while his past creative partners, well, haven’t.

But to say Us is “about” homelessness or inequality or imposter syndrome or deeply rooted feelings of insecurity is to sell the film short. The film might be better understood as a cluttered snapshot of Jordan Peele’s psyche at a particular moment. To try to argue that it presents a perfectly contained world where the jumpsuits, the scissors, and the doppelgangers all make logical sense is to miss the point. Us is shaggier, even messier, than Get Out, but in that messiness you get some of the most compelling and visually dazzling sequences we’ve seen on film in some time. It’s impossible to forget the fun-house sequences, Elizabeth Moss applying her makeup, or the overhead shots of the family enjoying the beach. In the messy imperfection of the film, Peele sometimes finds cinematic nirvana. 

Peele often invites comparisons to Hitchcock. And if he is going to make a dozen more films (God willing), Us won’t be remembered as his Vertigo, Psycho, or North by Northwest. But future generations of film lovers might look at it the way we look at Dial M for Murder or The Wrong Man: an imperfect film that finds moments of perfection. —Brenden Gallagher

Director: Anthony and Joe Russo

Stars: Robert Downey Jr., Chris Evans, Mark Ruffalo, Chris Hemsworth, Scarlett Johansson, Jeremy Renner

Studio: Marvel Studios

Pour one out for the GOAT villain Thanos, who dies not once but twice for his Infinity War triumph in Endgame. Over the course of three-plus hours, we get a few different films. The first part of the film? Redemption. The heroes are looking to pick up the pieces of a world that Thanos broke with the snap of his fingers; once they find him and realize that he destroyed his tool of destruction (which they hoped would be the tool of Earth’s rejuvenation), it’s off with his head, and off on a journey to figure out how to live in a broken world. The entire second act is sorting out how to bring the world back to normal, which finds Marvel rewriting the rules of time travel (for better or worse) and letting Ant-Man do what he does best: go on a heist. Will everything work itself out? Of course it will; those “dead” heroes had films to make. The heroes win (while one truly sacrifices himself), and the changes from this final battle set the course for the future of the MCU.

Fuck all of that for a second, though. I knew we’d get a scene where all of the fallen would be avenged and back to do battle, but I didn’t expect to fall in love with Thanos all over again. What other Big Bad has the stones to stand tall in the face of the Avengers, broken and living out the rest of his life, and let them know that they are INEVITABLE?! What past version of the same Big Bad, in realizing what his future self does, watches THE PLAYBACK OF HIS FUTURE DEATH and SMIRKS? What Big Bad, who finds his way to the future in hopes of claiming the Infinity Stones once again, takes off his helmet, sits on a rock, and is like, “AYE GO GET MY STONES”?! And, finally, what Big Bad could take on the combined forces of Captain America, Iron Man, and Thor by themselves, with zero Stones on his person? The Mad Titan Thanos, that’s who.

Did he need to die? Of course. That was inevitable. That said, I hope Marvel has a serious plan for their next Big Bad; topping what Thanos did for the first three phases will be tough. Doable, but extremely tough. Long Live the Mad Titan. —khal

Director: Joe Talbot

Stars: Jimmie Fails, Jonathan Majors, Danny Glover, Tichina Arnold, Rob Morgan, Mike Epps, Finn Wittrock, Thora Birch

Studio: A24

A love letter, a tragedy, and a snapshot of a specific moment in time all in one, The Last Black Man in San Francisco wears its text and themes on its nose, but subtlety is beside the point in a film that also wears its heart so openly on its sleeve. If the beats of the story are familiar, that’s fine, because the presentation is ultimately singular. You’ve never seen a friendship on the big screen quite like the non-familial brotherhood between Jimmie, whose singular goal is to reclaim the gorgeous house that’s been in his family since its construction, and Montgomery, the aspiring playwright who’s along for any ride Jimmie takes him on. Montgomery observes the humans in his orbit—be it Jimmie or their childhood friends-turned-corner boys—with the rapt curiosity of a visitor from outer space, always processing and recording details, particularly the oddities, like the chest-thumping and toxic masculinity the boys on the block pointlessly subject each other to. Or Jimmie, and the ways in which he’s wrapped his identity and happiness around a house that doesn’t belong to him anymore. Montgomery can only make sense of it through his art, much like the movie exists to try and make sense of a city not subject to just gentrification but dilution, sapped of passionate, diverse people who love it and replaced with vapid millionaires who are already over it. Does anyone care? Does any of it matter? 

The Last Black Man in San Francisco evokes the painful part of nostalgia that Don Draper famously spoke of when he sold us on the carousel. The reality isn’t pretty, but every frame of this movie sure is. —Frazier Tharpe

Director: Chad Stahelski

Stars: Keanu Reeves, Halle Berry, Laurence Fishburne, Mark Dacascos, Asia Kate Dillon, Lance Reddick, Anjelica Huston, Ian McShane

Studio: Lionsgate

There are about nine (nine!) big action setpieces in John Wick 3. All are fantastic and varied (though the horse kicks got a little repetitive), and as such, everyone has their favorite. Mine comes early in the film, as the titular hitman extraordinaire does battle with peers who have tracked him to an antique weapons shop. Naturally, the rustic knives and guns around them become fodder to the assassins in their assault and John in his defense. But that’s the key word there: naturally.

In 2014, when John Wick was but a mere pleasantly surprising B-movie with grade-A return on investment, its marvel lay in how deftly it executed its mission: to, quite simply, restore the feeling to the action genre, stateside, at least. Hand-to-hand combat scenes had lost all their luster; gunfights were barely distinguishable from a video game. (Remember, while Tom Cruise was working on his own restoration with Mission: Impossible 5, at this point that was still 10 months away.) The action in John Wick is gorgeous, choreographed with loving precision by two directors who came up as stuntmen/stunt coordinators, and their affinity for the poetry of combat is palpable. “There’s an arc to an action sequence, and you need to come out the other end knowing your character better and maybe the story has moved forward in a compelling way,” Wick co-director David Leitch once told me. “I think—and the audience may not realize it—how much you learn about a character during an action sequence and how much it defines the character.”

Leitch left Chad Stahelski to helm the sequels on his own, but true to his words, by Wick 3, the story and the choreography have marvelously changed with it to reflect—and advance—the narrative. John isn’t the well-rested, sleek killing machine of 2014’s neo-revenge tale. In-story, all three films cover about a week, two and a half at most. John Wick is burnt out, literally running on fumes. There’s a sense of inherent improvisation to the wins he ekes out—when he notices those knives, it’s a relief, and Keanu and Stahelski somehow make an obviously thoroughly choreographed scene still feel like it’s being freestyled and our frayed hero is winning by the skin of his teeth. And that, reader, is why an action movie with not much besides bullets, severed thumbs, and gloriously vicious attack dogs still registers as a movie of substance, precision, and deep thought.

World-building is what helped set John Wick apart, creating a fully realized universe of assassins and a dense, interconnected mythology for the characters at its center. World-building could very well take it down. It’s wonderful to see more of John’s history, from the ballet-company-leading Angelica Huston to, of course, Halle Berry, who threatens to murder Keanu on his own shit in an appearance that amounts to special guest star. These characters share rich backstories that are mercifully shown and not told. Conversely, the respect John commands from even his enemies is peak here, from his Japanese foe and his pupils who would rather fight their idol with honor than win on a cheat. Great stuff. Mirage-appearing, desert-dwelling assassin kings… less great. Asia Kate Dillon’s bureaucratic antagonist was only marginally better. A John Wick 4 is imminent. I can’t wait to see how they dream up sequences worthy of succeeding shit like motorcycle swordplay or a horse chase through Manhattan—as long as they remember to let the action tell the story, first and foremost. —Frazier Tharpe