nERDbOX_Dave

Anything starring Julia Garner has my attention and pairing her with writer/director Zach Cregger (Barbarian) is all the reason I needed to grab my ticket. Weapons is Cregger's highly anticipated follow-up, and much like Barbarian, it's a film that refuses to play by conventional horror rules. While this year has already given us plenty of buzz heavy genre releases (Bring Her Back being another one that came with heavy chatter), I walked into Weapons without letting the hype sway my expectations. I'm glad I did, because what I got was a strange, unsettling, and sometimes frustrating-but often brilliant-mystery-horror experience.

The premise is chilling enough to hook you immediately: seventeen children from the same classroom disappear on the same night, apparently taken by an unseen force. From there, the film unfolds in a structure more akin to an anthology, each "chapter" told from a different character's perspective. This isn't a simple whodunit-it's a slow unpeeling of dread, one layer at a time.

Garner opens the film as Justine Gandy, a teacher whose class vanishes except for one lone student. Her performance is a powerhouse. Garner brings raw vulnerability and lived-in pain to a woman juggling anxiety, addiction, and the crushing guilt of being at the center of a tragedy. Watching her spiral while trying to claw toward answers is gripping and emotionally draining in the best way. You're fully invested in her journey... until Cregger pulls the rug out and the focus shifts.

The next segment centers on Archer Graff (Josh Brolin), father of one of the missing children. If Garner's performance feels devastating, Brolin's is even more gut-wrenching-grounded, angry, and filled with quiet desperation. His portion of the film digs deep into grief, paranoia, and the way loss can rot a person from the inside out.

From there, the film takes a turn into its third story absolutely chilling in execution and tone before pivoting again. And here's where Weapons becomes a bit of a double-edged sword. While each perspective is compelling, the tonal shifts in the final two stories sap some of the relentless tension built in the first half. It's not that these later stories are bad-they're well acted and skillfully made but they feel like detours away from the primal terror of the opening acts.

When Weapons leans into its horror, it's near perfection. The visual unease, the masterful sound design, and the score work together to make you feel constantly on edge. The unseen force at the center of the mystery is handled with restraint, which only makes it more disturbing when the horror does break through.

The climax delivers exactly what you want answers wrapped in dread, fear, and a creeping inevitability. But then... the closing moments. They land oddly. Almost comical in execution, which might be intentional but, for me, undercut the final blow the film had earned. With one tweak, that last beat could have cemented Weapons as an all-time great modern horror ending.

Weapons is as good as Barbarian in its ambition and storytelling craft, but its anthology like structure makes for some uneven pacing. Still, the performances (especially Garner and Brolin) are exceptional, the atmosphere is suffocatingly tense, and the mystery lingers in your head long after the credits roll. It's dark, eerie, and unpredictable-just the way Cregger likes it.

Strange Harvest is a fascinating hybrid on paper a horror mockumentary that merges the unsettling realism of true crime with the creeping dread of a slasher film. Directed by Stuart Ortiz (Grave Encounters), the film chronicles the return of a long-dormant serial killer known as "Mr. Shiny," who resurfaces in Southern California's Inland Empire after a 20-year absence. Told through interviews with detectives, witnesses, and survivors, the story unfolds much like a Netflix docuseries or an Investigation Discovery special, but with the menace of a fictional monster lurking between the lines.

If you're a fan of the ID Channel or Netflix crime documentaries especially those built on talking head interviews, crime scene photos, and slow burn narrative reveals this movie is squarely in your wheelhouse. Ortiz nails the structure of a prestige docuseries, right down to the ominous voiceovers, grainy police footage, and staged reenactments that look just believable enough to make you forget you're watching a scripted film. The two lead detectives, played with grit and weary realism, give the story a grounded center, and the Inland Empire setting brings a sun-bleached, suburban eeriness to the proceedings.

That said, while the format is well executed, it's also limiting. There's a compelling protagonist here, and Mr. Shiny himself is an intriguing, cryptic villain-but the rigid docu-style storytelling keeps them both at arm's length. We're always watching them through someone else's filter, rather than fully inhabiting their world. The horror elements, when they arrive, are effective but sparse, sometimes feeling like they're spliced in rather than organically growing from the story.

This is where Strange Harvest may divide audiences. For true crime devotees, the authenticity and attention to procedural detail will be a treat. For horror fans looking for immersive tension or sustained scares, the docu-style pacing might feel like a slow drip that never fully erupts. And for viewers like me, who see the potential in the premise but want more than just a convincing imitation of a streaming documentary, it's hard not to wish the film broke free of its own structure.

Ultimately, Strange Harvest is a well crafted experiment that succeeds at what it's trying to do-recreate the feeling of a prestige true-crime do, but in doing so, it may have boxed itself in. It's a film that feels almost too convincing for its own good, leaving you wondering if the same story might have worked better told without the mockumentary constraints.

Let's face it: we've seen more than enough nostalgia-bait reboots limp their way onto the big screen only to crash and burn under the weight of their own legacy. So it's understandable if you rolled your eyes when you heard that The Naked Gun was making a comeback with Liam Neeson, of all people, in the lead. But here's the plot twist worthy of a Police Squad file: it works and it works hilariously well.

Directed by Akiva Schaffer (Chip 'n Dale: Rescue Rangers), this fourth installment in The Naked Gun franchise manages the near impossible task of reviving a beloved brand of slapstick absurdity for a modern audience without losing what made the original so endearing. The film follows the son of the legendary Lt. Frank Drebin (played by the late Leslie Nielsen) as he tries to live up to his father's legacy and stop the bumbling Police Squad from being shut down for good.

Liam Neeson might have seemed like an odd casting choice after years of grim-faced revenge thrillers, it was fair to assume he'd been typecast permanently into "guy with a certain set of skills." But that's exactly what makes his performance here so brilliant. He plays the deadpan absurdity with absolute commitment, never winking at the camera, and that sincerity makes the gags land even harder.

The supporting cast adds plenty of flavor to the mix. Pamela Anderson shines in a self-aware, scene-stealing role that plays with her public persona in the best ways. Paul Walter Hauser delivers consistent laughs and for once was outshined on screen, which is a tough task in itself.

You don't need to know the original trilogy to enjoy this; the film wisely introduces its premise with enough clarity and enough throwaway jokes that it stands on its own. That said, longtime fans will catch the loving callbacks, meta nods, and one or two deep cuts that land like inside jokes between old friends.

Admittedly, the middle act drags just a bit. Some of the momentum built in the first 30 minutes dips as the plot slows down and it feels like it might be running out of steam, the film pivots hard in the third act with a climactic sequence that is pure, full-on Naked Gun chaos. I was crying with laughter-a rare thing these days and it reminded me exactly why this franchise mattered in the first place.

The Naked Gun (2025) is a wild, ridiculous, and surprisingly successful revival that hits the mark more often than not. It honors the spirit of Leslie Nielsen without trying to replace him and lets Liam Neeson carve out a space that feels both fresh and familiar. It's a reminder that comedy doesn't have to be mean or edgy to be funny it just has to be cleverly stupid, and this movie nails it.