‘Warfare’ (2025)
The brutality of war gets put on trial in the latest from director Alex Garland (“Men,” “Ex Machina”) working alongside Ray Mendoza, a 16-year Navy Seal and military consultant on movies such “The Outpost” (2019) and “Mile 22” (2018) who takes on more creative responsibilities here as co-director and co-writer. Mendoza worked in his former capacity on Garland’s last project, “Civil War” (2024), which eerily depicted a divided United States in the near dystopian future as a president tries to cling to a third term. Here, the two toss fiction aside for a reenactment of a 2006 Navy Seal surveillance mission in Ramadi, Iraq, that goes horribly off script when local jihadists ID the team and strategize an all-out assault on the platoon. It’s “Black Hawk Down” (2001) by way of “Assault on Precinct 13” (1976). As billed in the opening credits, the narrative is stitched together from the memories of those who endured the ever-surging siege – including Mendoza. As in “Black Hawk,” the filmmakers embed you with the team as it takes fire from unseen assailants on adjacent roofs or as IEDs explode, disorient and maim. (A content warning for grim scenes are a given.) The sound editing and subjective POVs are adroitly effective and the ensemble gives gritty goes from top to bottom, led by Will Poulter (also onscreen in an entirely different role in “Death of a Unicorn,” reviewed below) as a shellshocked squad leader; D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai (“Reservation Dogs”) as Mendoza; and Charles Melton, so good in “May December” (2023), as the leader of the support squad called in for the evac. As the credits roll, you’ll see the real-life Seals alongside their thespian counterparts, though some real-life faces are blurred out. This perplexed me until I went to the press notes, which cited privacy, consent (not all were reached during the filmmaking process) and security concerns (both personal and because some are still in the service). (Tom Meek) At Landmark Kendall Square Cinema, 355 Binney St., Cambridge, and AMC Assembly Row 12, 395 Artisan Way, Assembly Square, Somerville.
‘Misericordia’ (2024)
“Misericordia,” which comes from the Latin word for mercy, is a tenet of Catholic compassion for the downtrodden and less fortunate. It is an apt title for the newest film from French director Alain Guiraudie, whose protagonist appears to survive solely on the feelings – pure hearted or otherwise – that those in his vicinity feel for him. Recent college grad Jérémie (Félix Kysyl) returns to the village of his youth to attend the funeral of his former employer at the local boulangerie. He offers to stay with his boss’ widow (Catherine Frot), first for the night, then for a perpetually extended length of days and weeks – much to the chagrin of her son, Jérémie’s childhood frenemy and the current town hothead. Tempers flare and Jérémie finds himself in an increasingly complicated situation also involving the town loner, a curiously omnipresent priest and the hunt for wild mushrooms.
In a Q&A after a preview screening at the Kendall Square Cinema, Guiraudie described “Misericordia” as both “an erotic thriller in which no one has sex” and “a tragedy which makes you laugh.” The former might surprise even one who has already seen the film. Horniness is the engine that drives “Misericordia”; Jérémie is at least somewhat interested in everyone in town – up to and including his dead boss – and most of them seem more than open to reciprocation. But despite a few flashes of graphic nudity (including one that may make you do a spit take), nothing is ever consummated. Instead, this free-floating lust compels these characters to act, if not against their own interest, than at least in the face of expected norms. This is where the comedy comes in, as the people around Jérémie go to more and more comical lengths to cover for him in situations which, by all rights, should be his undoing.
Jérémie, for his part, is something of a cipher, a vaguely amoral presence whose motives keep the viewer – and possibly Jérémie himself – guessing. Beyond the nudity and knotty sexuality, “Misericordia” is a truly “adult” film, with enough moral and narrative complexity to keep one thinking about it long after the credits roll. There is mercy to be found in “Misericordia,” but its strain is far more human than divine. (Oscar Goff) At Landmark Kendall Square Cinema, 355 Binney St., Cambridge.
‘Death of a Unicorn’ (2025)
“Death of a Unicorn” doesn’t waste time getting to the main event. Meek attorney Elliot (Paul Rudd) and sullen daughter Ridley (Jenna Ortega) are en route to the estate of Elliot’s employer, ailing pharmaceutical magnate Odell Leopold (Richard E. Grant), and his family (Téa Leoni and Will Poulter). Speeding down the winding, mountainous road, Elliot accidentally hits a mysterious animal with his car; hesitant to use the U-word, he describes it as “horse-shaped … with a, uh, protuberance of some kind.” Upon bringing it to the compound, the Leopolds discover that the unicorn’s blood (which looks like a cross between grape jelly and motor oil) possesses miraculous healing properties, and soon find themselves thinking in dollar signs. Unfortunately, where there’s a baby unicorn, there are parents, and soon our hapless heroes find themselves under siege by some very angry, very powerful, equine beasts.
As a creature feature, “Unicorn” is no great shakes. The title creatures are realized via janky CGI when, in a film such as this, even a subpar animatronic creation would be far more satisfying. Within its monster-movie framework, however, lies a surprisingly biting satire of the 1 percent. Grant is at his magnanimous best as the Leopold patriarch, recalling at times his tour de force performance in “How to Get Ahead in Advertising” (1989); Leoni oozes phony charm as a surface-level philanthropist, and Poulter in particular is a hoot as the coke-snorting finance bro and failson. The scenes focusing on the Leopolds’ greed are terrific, densely packed with so many smartly written jokes that you might miss some (describing ancient mythology, Poulter references “tropes of medieval discourse” as if he’s discussing Reddit lore). If the entire film was on this level, “Death of a Unicorn” would be an unqualified comic gem.
Unfortunately, Ortega and Rudd appear to be in a different movie altogether. The arc of their strained relationship is one we’ve seen a thousand times before, and their rhythms, in contrast to the Leopolds, fall into the improv-heavy banter depressingly common in modern studio comedies. Once the focus falls back on them, the film becomes yet another quippy thrill ride, albeit one with a stranger-than-usual hook. Its comic high points and the strength of its ensemble place “Unicorn” a cut above the average blockbuster, but the perfect balance of action and comedy remains as elusive as its titular beastie. (Oscar Goff) At Landmark Kendall Square Cinema, 355 Binney St., Cambridge; Somerville Theatre, 55 Davis Square; and AMC Assembly Row 12, 395 Artisan Way, Assembly Square, Somerville.
‘The Annihilation of Fish’ (1999)
Long in the vault after scathing reviews at the 1999 edition of the Toronto International Film Festival, this dark comedy from revered filmmaker Charles Burnett, whose critical successes include “Killer of Sheep” (1978) and “To Sleep with Anger” (1990), finally makes its way to the screen thanks to the good work by the film preservation folks at Kino Lorber. Given the casting of Lynn Redgrave (“Shine”), Margot Kidder (“Superman”) and James Earl Jones and his sweet, sonorous baritone that so made Darth Vader and Mustafa jump off the screen, you’d think reading the instruction to a long form 1040 would be gold. Sadly not. Jones plays the title character Fish, a Jamaican immigrant and widower who, after time in mental health facilities, winds up in an L.A. boarding house run by Mrs. Muldroone (Kidder, who crushes it), whose spouse has also recently passed. Also moving into the complex is Redgrave’s Poinsettia, who has her own mental struggles. She and Fish both see dead people – kind of. Poinsettia’s obsessed with Italian composer Giacomo Puccini, dead since 1924, talks to him in public and even tries to marry him. Fish is haunted by a demon named Hank who likes to have wrestling matches. Fish enlists Poinsettia to referee the matches with his unseen foe. A romance kindles, and for a moment it looks like these souls that have been tormented for so long might find solace in their golden years. But the demons in their heads take them to dark places. An elder romance – sex and all – is provocative and doesn’t often makes its way to the screen, but as delivered is an uneven mess, with dialogue that feels improvised and scenes that at times become uncomfortable to watch because the material and the tenor is so below the actors. Jones holds it together as a rooted and vulnerable Fish, but Redgrave’s Poinsettia feels like an amalgam of six disparate personas. Issues of lack of public attention to public health, the NRA and gun violence make their way into the meander but, like much in the film, none of it bites. At The Brattle Theatre, 40 Brattle St., Harvard Square, Cambridge.
Cambridge writer Tom Meek’s reviews, essays, short stories and articles have appeared in WBUR’s The ARTery, The Boston Phoenix, The Boston Globe, The Rumpus, The Charleston City Paper and SLAB literary journal. Tom is also a member of the Boston Society of Film Critics and rides his bike everywhere.
A stronger
Please consider making a financial contribution to maintain, expand and improve Cambridge Day.
We are now a 501(c)(3) nonprofit and all donations are tax deductible.
Please consider a recurring contribution.