I Had A Post-Booster Movie Marathon!

While my booster only left me achy and mildly feverish for half of a day, I took a whole one binging movies because I was in the mood and blessed with the opportunity. I don't normally rate movies, as they're generally a redundant distraction when reviewing. But today I've decided to share my six bags of popcorn scale (made in tribute to On Cinema, whose characters would never actually think this hard about it). If I don't finish the movie, or fast forward to sate curiosity about the plot, it gets no bags of popcorn.

(1 Bag): A stunned, seething hate-watch.

(2 Bags): I didn't hate it, but I somewhat regret the time spent on it.

(3 Bags): The movie wasn't perfect, but I'm not mad.

(4 Bags): Very entertaining! Recommended! Good times!

(5 Bags): Wow, that was like...art.

(6 Bags): The movie may not be in the artistic canon, but it's definitely my shit. I've watched it more than once, and will likely do it again if in the mood or flipping by it at night.

And now, the seven films I watched from morning to night. Well, I had to rewatch the last twenty minutes of Condor in the morning cuz I nodded off. Now there's some obscure '80s Gabriel Byrne journalism thriller Paramount's stuck in my "continue watching" list cuz they started it in my sleep. Rude.

Good Mourning (on Showtime). In a fit of whimsy, I decided to start the day with a movie starring, co-written and co-directed by Machine Gun Kelly. For someone who often looks like a human storm drain, he's been successful for a while, so I decided to find out if he had a modicum of charisma. And he does! Or at least half a modicum. My best guess now is that he's a bit of a Lenny Kravitz for younger generations: a handsome (arguably, in a Mike Dirnt way) fashionplate who conflates multiple genres and eras into competent musical pastiche and a nostalgic, flamboyant sense of cool. Like Lenny, his screen demeanor is surprisingly matter-of-fact and completely edgeless. The movie is a wan cross between Half-Baked and Curb Your Enthusiasm, where a hapless star bungles interviews and romance with the help of a coterie of stoner buddies. The cast includes Megan Fox as a cool lesbian (seriously, "I'm cool and I like women" is her entire personality) who gets the knuckleheads out of jams, Whitney Cummings as his joke-improvising agent, Tom Arnold as an angry director, Avril Lavigne as herself and Dennis Rodman as himself. Considering that cursed cast, I was honestly shocked how professionally shot and paced the movie was. Had it featured funny people and funny jokes, it might have been...good. 2 bags.

First Reformed (on Showtime). Ethan Hawke is a great actor. The prickly earnestness that was often insufferable in the '90s has become more amiable and weathered by experience; his puckishness has grown soul. This lively confidence works equally well in genre works (Moon Knight!!) and dramas like this big comeback for Paul Schrader. It's incredibly easy to believe him as a priest who believes deeply, wrestling with ideas in part to avoid deeper connection with others. I was a little conflicted about the ending at first, but it's growing on me. Cedric "The Entertainer" Kyles was so good I thought it was Wendell Pierce until the closing credits. 5 bags.

The Humans (on Showtime).  Is there a law that every Tony-winning play about a dinner party must become a dark night of the soul for the characters, climaxing with the solemn repetition of a pretentious phrase? Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf?, August: Osage County, God Of Carnage...and this. (There's probably more, but those are all the Best Plays I've seen). When a group of friends, family or acquaintances gets together for a meal on a Broadway stage, you know it's not going to end with hugs and "we've got to do this again soon!" The actors were good, scenes were effective, but...seriously? Again? The writer/director made an effort to incorporate dramatic sound mixing and natural lighting into his cinematic adaptation but it's still a Best Play winner about a dinner party from hell. 3 bags.

Sin City: A Dame To Kill For (on Showtime). I can't remember if I'd already seen this, but I needed the opposite of a Best Play winner after The Humans. All three Frank Miller directorial efforts are utterly ridiculous, and this latest might be the closest to pro forma banality (Josh Brolin's head after he "becomes" Clive Owen, omg), but I enjoy the melodramatic cartoonishness of it all. Eva Green and Powers Boothe are having so much fun as the villains. 3 bags, as again, I'm not sure if I've seen it before. But it could leap to 6 if I flip by it on Pluto someday or throw it on after midnight when I shoud be going to bed.

Alone (on Hulu). John "son of Peter" Hymans is the co-creator of the thrilling Black Summer series on Netflix, and he directed this movie about a woman trying to avoid a mustachioed creep in the woods. That's it. The whole movie. Nothing but a haunted woman with a Uhaul, realizing Psycho Ned Flanders is on her tail, stakes escalating ever higher. It's not staged quite as intensely as Summer, and neither actor transcends their archetype (Anthony "Dr. Chilton" Heald threatens to steal the movie when he shows up as a hapless old hunter), but it's still a quality B movie exercise. 4 bags.

Krampus (on Peacock). Michael Dougherty's follow-up to 2007's fantastic horror anthology Trick 'r Treat didn't come til 2015, but it was worth the wait. Toni Collette, Adam Scott, David Koecher and Allison Tolman get their families together for a dysfunctional Christmas that turns truly hellish when the sweetest of the kids accidentally calls upon the spirit of the Anti-Santa, Krampus. As with Treat, nobody's safe, the threats are truly unpredictable, and the vibe is both human & giddily grotesque. This was the second time I've seen it, but - assuming it's streaming somewhere every fourth quarter (perfect for spooky season & the holidays!) - it could become a perennial. 6 bags.

Three Days Of The Condor (on Paramount). That pretentious himbo Robert Redford (he's not a good actor! He's just a stone cold fox with politics!), once again in a ripping yarn warning us that the government isn't living up to its liberal values. Faye Dunaway has to fall in love with him less than 12 hours after he kidnaps her, which she pulls off by admitting he has really nice eyes. Max Von Sydow is less of a chore than usual (maybe my least favorite Good Actor, have you seen how he bogs down Strange Brew?), but his hitman is nowhere as fun as twenty or so of his peers would have been in the role. Competent blockbuster craft, but everybody involved did their shtick better somewhere else. 3 bags.