Handyman’s daughter is kidnapped, the police are useless and hostile and corrupt, deciding to investigate him instead of the crime. Fortunately, the handyman is ballsy and badass, tracks down the baddies, crashes into their clubs and warehouses and makes a mess of their henchmen. He runs into a reporter guy whose wife is also missing and they team up against various child trafficker tough guys, including Mad Dog from The Raid as a cop-killing bowman, and the rich Heir Trafficker who accidentally murders his own pregnant bride in the movie’s most digital-bloody scene.

There’s a lot of cool fighting but it felt more ridiculous than thrilling at the end – I wonder if Baby Assassins is better. From the director of Enter the Fat Dragon, with Sub-Zero as the journalist, also featuring one of the buttplug guys from Everything Everywhere All at Once.

Chiwetel is divorced and depressed, living in his discount furniture shop, until he discovers a world beneath the world, with layers and layers of increasingly corrupted copies of the ground floor, like Us squared. Text is reversed or mutated, everything’s clipping into the walls, people have the wrong number of eyes, like a discount AI office park. Chiwetel gets his employees involved in documenting and mapping (leading to too much period-accurate VHS footage), then they disappear in there.

Every horror movie needs a couple of dummies to kill off. These two are TV stars from Shrinking (also about a therapist) and the Jodie Foster season of True Detective:

Anyone who has played dungeon games on Apple II knows how to deal with the backrooms:

Cut to the perspective of his therapist Renate, who makes a solo wellness check and manages to find Chiwetel, who is thriving in the backrooms. But she should’ve realized from the crayon wall drawings that her patient had gone ’round the bend, and he should’ve realized that the movie’s gonna become a therapy-backstory drama for a while. He tries to escape this by kidnapping her and showing her around to his new (edible) friends.

Finally we get back to proper horror when Carl is eaten by Giant Pirate Carl, who chases the therapist through ever more messed-up environments, until her apparent rescue by some white guys. We’ve seen these guys before, running their own backrooms explorations, setting up A/V equipment and apparently alarm-activated canisters of gas-that-does-nothing. Movie ends with her being interrogated by Phil, who does not imply that she’ll be safe or released, reminding me of the “rescue” at the end of 28 Years Later.

Real animals in this one, and oh that cyclops design, that makes up for a lot. And there’s a lot to make up for: three hours of battle scenes and whinging about the downfall of respectful society. Bunch of excellent actors and the Nolan bombast and the seat-rattling IMAX beat us into submission. MVPs: Cyclops, Travis Scott, the murderous giants, Elliot Page, Leguizamo, Pattinson, Agamemnon’s armor, Samantha Morton, the raven.

I was already a sucker for this movie, another “song can save your life” narrative from Carney with winning actors and actually good songs and a cute Glen Hansard tribute, then Glen died suddenly, and now I’m ready to declare this the most important film of the year. The Odyssey wasn’t any better!

Wedding band frontman Paul Rudd has a good relationship with his wife(!) and daughter(!) until he gets depressed and obsessed after his one-night bromance with a Jonas brother ends with Nick stealing Paul’s song and making it a massive hit. On the long road to predictable redemption we get to spend time with Rudd, his buddy Peter McDonald (the film’s cowriter giving himself a plum role), and Jack Reynor as the music producer villain.

Series of Bad Decisions in the lead-up to Zendaya-Pattinson wedding. Maid of honor Alana Haim does not forgive Z for claiming to have plotted mass murder in her bullied teen years. Alana’s man Mamoudou Athie (Kinds of Kindness) fails to make peace, and Rob starts to spiral, as the accusations (and vomit) fly and people say more things they can’t take back, either stupidly or drunkenly. Pretty decent writing and performances, for every scene where an actor is impressive there’s another where they’re flailing. Borgli’s follow-up to that one where everyone dreams of Nic Cage.

The boosters (Zola, Nasha, Emerald) are ripping off clothes from Demi Moore’s fashion empire, belatedly joined by a Chinese garment worker with a stolen teleporter and a vendetta.

Don Cheadle runs a pyramid scheme called Friends Being Friendly

“Our lunch is 30 seconds”

LaKeith Stanfield (not pictured) plays a guy so cool the camera can’t look at him without blurring and shaking.

Former alien abductees Emily Blunt and Josh O’Connor have to avoid the evil murderous secrecy corporation run by mastermind Colin Firth and hitman Henry Lloyd-Hughes and deal with their doubtful spouses (traitorous Wyatt Russell and loyal Flora) then journey to meet Colman Domingo at his Rehearsal house and deliver an extraterrestrial message to humanity.

Heavy influences from Steven’s other films: the alien ones plus A.I. and Minority Report, I am not kidding about The Rehearsal, the final moments of Lost in Translation, maybe some Arrival or Midnight Special in there. Nuns (led by Old Mattie of True Grit) take pains to tell us that alien existence is no big deal to Christianity. The first Hollywood movie I’ve seen in theaters this year, felt great to fall into the big screen and get caught up in adventure. But thirty years after Jurassic Park, it’s shocking to see the state of the CG creatures in this movie. I’m not talking about the aliens, but the fox and moose and especially the horrible cardinal who silently visits Emily, kickstarting her hidden alien memories/powers. I’ve seen the opening title sequence of Sparrow four or six times – don’t tell me it’s impossible to film a bird flying into a room, standing on a table, then flying out again (across multiple edits, no less), that it’s worth the time and expense and horrid visual outcomes to create a computer bird instead.

Somehow when I wasn’t paying attention to the drug TV shows and the Russian-made genre flicks, Bob Odenkirk became an action star in his sixties. Here he’s a traveling fill-in lawman, and while halfheartedly playing sheriff for some Minnesota town a lot of shit goes down – a bank robbery brings the yakuza-payrolled townsfolk to armed warfare. “That’s not where I was aiming” – Bob’s first return shot blows apart Evil Mayor Fonz. The dead ex-sheriff’s daughter Jess McLeod teams up with him. It’s all shooting and ‘splosives until the two sides team up to con the Japanese into not murdering them all, then the ruse is exposed and it’s all shooting and ‘sploves some more. A pretty good time, more generic than Free Fire but also better.

Fukasaku Fest:

Opening scene is so lousy, but the colors are bright, I remember liking the first movie (and that’s all I remember about it) and there’s promise of a Pyramid Head monster (which is also what I’ve been calling the pileated woodpeckers buzzing around the cabin), so, keeping an open mind.

Ivor Novello (Benediction) meets the lovely Mary (a horror regular, of various Saws and Purges). Flash-forward, she is dead because he’s such a bad driver (this is his defining character trait), but still sends him a letter to return to their home, which is an increasingly dodgy-digi-fx place. I think he has Trauma, and his personal Silent Hill is inside the mind – an ash-covered town, the local duplex playing Jacob’s Ladder and The Tenant. It’s one of those Shutter Island (or Jacob’s Ladder) stories where an empty man gradually figures out who he is/was.

Love at the bottom of the sea:

Some people attempted to write a normal movie review, focusing on what is actually in the movie, most of which sucks, while people with internet madness are predictably calling it a perfect film from a master stylist, or the most affecting onscreen portrait of grief ever filmed. Me, I am postponing plans to rewatch part one this SHOCKtober.

Me, going out to tape Smashing Pumpkins at the Metro:

Metro security, spotting my gear: