Emerald Fennell follows the empty shock value and cheap psychosexual spectacle of her previous film, “Saltburn” with an overheated and underdeveloped reimagining of a literary classic. Fennell’s new spin on “Wuthering Heights” is more in love with itself than with anything Emily Brontë put to page in her highly regarded 1847 novel. Sadly, it results in a surprisingly hollow and frustratingly scattershot exercise in overindulgence.

Fennell significantly reshapes Brontë’s story in a number of peculiar ways. So fans of the novel shouldn’t go in expecting a faithful adaptation. It starts with Fennell’s decision to transform the book’s dark, haunting, gothic tale into a soapy, sexually charged, period romance. Pseudo-eroticism is more of a focus than the raw dysfunction that Brontë explored. Also, any hint of the supernatural is erased. And main characters undergo jarring dramatic changes, often to fit within the film’s bawdy vision.

For the entirety of it unnecessarily long running time, Fennell’s story remains fixated on the relationship between Catherine (Margot Robbie) and Heathcliff (Jacob Elordi), essentially cutting out the entire second half of the novel. As a child, Catherine lived with her alcoholic and cartoonishly abusive father (Martin Clunes) in the family’s remote estate on the Yorkshire Moors. One day her father brings home an orphan boy he rescued from the street. The bossy and possessive Catherine names him Heathcliff and treats him as her pet. But over time the two children develop a close yet vaguely defined relationship.

From there the film lurches forward several years with Catherine and Heathcliff now young adults yet still playfully cavorting around the neglected estate like children. That is until Catherine lays eyes on their wealthy new neighbors, the Lintons. With her father having gambled away the family’s fortune, Catherine maneuvers herself into the arms of Edgar Linton (Shazad Latif). When he overhears her plans to marry Edgar, a heartbroken Heathcliff rides away and doesn’t return.

More years pass. Catherine is now married to Edgar and living a life of luxury at the Linton’s villa. But everything changes when Heathcliff suddenly returns, now mysteriously rich and more dapper than ever. Suddenly the emotions she never expressed come rushing to the surface and the two begin a torrid affair. But outside of rampant sex, Catherine refuses to commit to Heathcliff due to her marriage to Edgar and the child they’re expecting which she keeps a secret.

The rest of the story erratically bops from point to point, force-feeding us a wild array of emotions that always feel more contrived than organic. Following along is never easy because there’s never a steady measurement of passing time. Worse are the gaps in the story that lead to bizarre character shifts with little buildup, as well as undercooked relationships that never make sense. This is especially true for the increasingly mopey second half.

But while she leaves her characters and her stories begging for more attention, Fennell finds the time to inject her kinky fascinations, often to the detriment of her movie. Pointlessly crude flourishes are thrown in, seemingly to jolt the audience more than anything else. Meanwhile character work gets back-burnered to satisfy some lusty appetite. Take Edgar conveniently vanishing without a mention so that Catherine and Heathcliff can repeatedly and openly hook-up. As for Robbie and Elordi, they’re mostly served up as rain-soaked eye-candy, doing their best with what they’re given.

Whatever the goal, it’s hard to see 2026’s “Wuthering Heights” pleasing longtime fans of the novel or drawing new fans to it. But even if you take away its literary inspiration, Emerald Fennell’s latest even fails as a simple melodrama. The choppy storytelling impacts everything, including the characters who are left shuffling through ambiguity and absurdity. This despite the efforts of Robbie and Elordi, and great supporting turns from Alison Oliver and Hong Chau.

On a positive note, “Wuthering Heights” isn’t as galling or insufferable as “Saltburn”. And while its attempts at eroticism often feel silly and performative, the movie is visually sumptuous in ways that highlight Fennell’s impressive technical savvy. But overall it does nothing to recreate the excitement we felt with her debut film, “Promising Young Woman”. Instead it demonstrates a concerning trend where her expression is overwhelmed by excess.

VERDICT – 2 STARS

In recent years the first quarter of the movie calendar has become a favorite time to release a slew of new horror movies. Among this year’s batch is “Whistle”, the latest film from director Corin Hardy and his first since 2018’s “The Nun”. It’s a movie that’s full of potential and ripe with the kind of substance that fan’s of the horror genre look for and relish. Sadly it squanders most of that potential in several frustrating ways.

“Whistle” is written for the screen by Owen Egerton who is adapting his own short story. He pens a tale that is built upon a clever idea but is surrounded with a copy-and-paste horror veneer. The generic high‑school milieu, its coming‑of‑age shallowness, one of the most preposterous character angles I’ve seen in years – it all keeps “Whistle” from being scary, interesting, original, or at times even logical.

“Whistle” opens with a prologue where Pellington High School’s star basketball player Mason Raymore (Stephen Kalyn) is incinerated in the locker room shower after being chased by a terrifying burning figure. It’s a horrific death which is witnessed by several of Mason’s teammates. Hardy uses it to set the table and to prime his audience for what’s to come….sort of.

Six months later me meet Chrys (Dafne Keen), a quiet and reserved teen who just moved to town after a life-changing tragedy. On her first day at Pellington High her cousin Rel (Sky Yang) introduces her to his friends, Grace (Ali Skovbye), Dean (Jhaleil Swaby), and Ellie (Sophie Nelisse). The don’t remotely seem like the kind of kids who would hang out together, but they fit the common horror movie archetypes – the nerd, the blond hottie, the brain-dead jock, and the smart girl.

Everyone at school seems to have moved right on from the Mason incident. So much so that no one even thought to clean out his old locker, which is assigned to Chrys. Inside of it Chrys finds an ornate Aztecan whistle which her teacher, Mr. Craven (Nick Frost) immediately takes to study. But the whistle find its way back to the teens who can’t resist blowing it, unleashing an ancient evil entity that curses them all to death.

Basically here is how the curse works. Everyone within the piercing earshot of its sound are cursed with facing whatever future death fate has chosen for them. After they “summon” the death, it stalks them, often ending in some gloriously gruesome fashion. Thoughts of “Final Destination” are unavoidable. But Hardy and Egerton have a few of their own cards to play. Regrettably not all of them work.

While “Whistle” is plagued by several disappointing choices, its most outrageous one comes with the character Noah (Percy Hynes White), a psychotic drug-dealing youth pastor who pops up at the most random times. He’s an utterly weightless inclusion who adds nothing to the movie other than a convenient antagonist. He would be easy to laugh off if not for the decision to wedge him into the film’s climactic ending.

Sadly “Whistle” is yet another trite chiller about a generic batch of kids who pay the consequences for their own foolish curiosity. Despite the film’s efforts, the underdeveloped and weakly defined characters never register beyond surface level. So we barely feel a thing when they are offed in an array of creatively gory ways. And we feel even less during the ludicrous, scare-free big finish and the franchise-teasing mid-credits scene. No thanks. I think one blow of the whistle was enough for me.

VERDICT – 1.5 STARS

The new movie year kicks off with an unexpectedly moving feature that puts a thoughtful spin on the well-travelled zombie subgenre. Its story is no less grim, and the movie doesn’t fully forsake its horror roots. But the narrative focus is more intimate, and the emotions that surface come from a place of raw authenticity that pack a surprising punch. Those are the things that make “We Bury the Dead” more than your standard zombie fare.

“We Bury the Dead” comes from Australian writer-director Zak Hilditch whose past credits include the overlooked and underappreciated “1922” (if you haven’t seen it, add it to your Netflix queue). His latest sees him once again doing new and interesting things within an established genre. He finds the right star in Daisy Ridley who latches onto her character’s deeper emotions and conveys them with sensitivity and control. Her performance is the linchpin.

The film’s originality begins in Hilditch’s world-building. We learn that an estimated 500,000 people have been killed in Tasmania after the United States military accidental deploys an experimental weapon just off the coast. It released an electromagnetic pulse that resulted in the immediate neural failure of all living things on the island. With its capital city Hobart in flames and entire populations dead, the global community reaches out to assist in any way possible.

Among those volunteering to help is Ava (Ridley), a physical therapist who has joined a body retrieval unit. She’s partnered with the brash yet efficient Clay (Brenton Thwaites) and tasked with searching homes and bringing out the bodies of the dead to be identified. It’s grisly work and what they find ranges from heartbreaking to all-out unsettling. But what’s most alarming is a warning issued by the general in charge. He tells the volunteers that a small number of the dead are coming back “online” (aka reanimating).

The “whys“ and “hows” are never really explained, mainly because everyone at ground zero is in dark too. All that’s known is that the living dead start docile and slow-moving. But the longer they remain ‘alive’ the more aggressive they get. For that reason, the volunteers are instructed to inform their military escort who goes in and “respectfully” shoots the undead in the head. While they act differently, one thing the undead all share is the creepy way they grind their teeth. It makes an unnerving sound akin to eating glass. That sound alone leads to some truly chilling encounters.

As Ava aides this global effort, we learn its personal calamity that brought her to Tasmania. Her husband Mitch (Matt Whelan) was on a work retreat at a resort in the southern part of the island when the detonation occurred. Devastated, Ava is determined to find him, either dead or reanimated. But it’s a dangerous 200-mile trek through restricted areas with no military support. And of course there are numerous threats, both living and undead.

Ava’s journey springs from a compelling premise that plunges the audience into a bleak and forbidding world. There’s no deadly infection or fighting undead hordes. In fact, the “z” word is never once uttered. Yet there is an ever-present sense of danger as Ava is ushered from one place to the next. Despite its modest budget, Hilditch develops and maintains an impressive sense of scale. So much so that I wish he had explored more of his world and better defined its rules.

But at its thematic core, “We Bury the Dead” tells a thoughtful story about navigating grief and finding closure. The “horror” element of the movie is more of a backdrop that propels Ava into her own personal purgatory. Hilditch maintains a good grasp of his material, balancing his rich themes with his obvious love for genre. And while his world can feel too sparse, the story’s human element always finds its way to the surface. And that’s what sets the film apart from its genre counterparts.

VERDICT – 3.5 STARS

Despite making striking and subversive indies, trippy star-driven science-fiction, and a massive franchise blockbuster, writer-director Rian Johnson has found his comfort zone in the cinematic world of whodunits. His 2019 film “Knives Out” was a surprise hit, as was his 2022 sequel, “Glass Onion”. Now he’s back with a third mystery, “Wake Up Dead Man”, and it just might be the best of the bunch.

Written and directed by Johnson, “Wake Up Dead Man” follows the same basic blueprint as its predecessors. There’s a murder, an unsolvable mystery, an all-star lineup of suspects, and the return of the charismatic super sleuth, Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig). His latest case takes him to the sleepy little town of Chimney Rock in upstate New York where a controversial priest has been murdered in the middle of his church’s Good Friday service. It thrusts us and our famed detective into a religious setting that Johnson explores with earnest curiosity.

Josh O’Connor continues his remarkable year playing Rev. Jud Duplenticy, a young priest who is reassigned to a new parish after punching out one of his deacons. He’s sent to Our Lady of Perpetual Fortitude in Chimney Rock to assist the polarizing Monsignor Jefferson Wicks (Josh Brolin). Rev. Jud has went from a boxer from the streets to a faithful and driven young priest. But the vain and domineering Monsignor Wicks sees Rev. Jud as a threat to his authority, setting up some early tension with lasting effects.

Making the noble Rev. Jud’s new position even more challenging is the church’s congregation – a small group of regulars who are notably bitter, self-absorbed, and fiercely loyal to Wicks. There’s the town doctor (Jeremy Renner) whose wife recently left him; a smart yet resentful attorney (Kerry Washington); a failed politician turned wannabe YouTuber (Daryl McCormack); a former cellist (Cailee Spaeny) now struggling with a crippling illness; and a once popular sci-fi writer (Andrew Scott) whose book sales have tanked.

Other significant players include Martha Delacroix (Glenn Close), Wicks’ right-hand church lady who handles the bookkeeping, plays the organ, launders the vestments, and so on. And then there is Samson Holt (Thomas Haddon Church), the church’s longtime groundskeeper who has a thing for Martha. All languish in their own personal states of misery which is only made worse by the fear-wielding Wicks.

As he’s done before, Johnson does a fine job defining his characters. While some could use a tad more depth, Johnson sets them up nicely for the story’s key event – the murder of Monsignor Wicks. It happens during the church’s Good Friday service with all of the above players in attendance. With so many suspects and no plausible explanation, the case proves to be more than the town’s police chief, Geraldine Scott (Mila Kunis) can handle.

Enter private detective Benoit Blanc, with his exaggerated Southern drawl, blaring panache, and a haughty cynicism towards religion that he quickly makes known. He waltzes in with a blasé air of case-solving self-assurance. But he’s brought down to earth with a murder that instantly leaves him stumped. Blanc’s rationalism and Rev. Jud’s spirituality leads to an amusing partnership. Johnson’s script turns the skeptic and the disciple into a Holmes and Watson of sorts, at least until the mystery takes a ‘miraculous’ turn.

As it all unfolds, Johnson keeps us routinely off balance with a steady wave of new clues, shaky alibis, and surprising revelations. There’s a mischievousness in Johnson’s storytelling which leads to some of the film’s funniest moments. But he also offers an even-handed assessment of fanaticism versus faith from a perspective that neither proselytizes nor condemns. And all through another cadre of colorful characters who feel right at home in Johnson’s latest and possible best Knives Out to date.

VERDICT – 4 STARS

With “Wicked: For Good”, the deconstruction of L. Frank Baum’s classic 1900 children’s novel (“The Wonderful Wizard of Oz”) and its 1939 film adaptation mercifully comes to an end. Beginning with 2024’s smash-hit “Wicked”, this big-budgeted two-parter from director Jon M. Chu is based on Stephen Schwartz’s 2003 stage musical, which itself was loosely based on Gregory Maguire’s 1995 novel. The first film had its moments before falling off in the second half. “Wicked: For Good” never gets on its feet, becoming a grueling test of your patience and endurance.

“Wicked: For Good” has a plethora of problems that become more pronounced over the course of its endless 137 minutes. In their defense, screenwriters Winnie Holzman and Dana Fox had a lot to wrangle together. But their bloated story crumbles under the weight of the source material’s revisionism and reverence for the beloved 1939 film. Chu tries to make something of it, but what he delivers lacks the humor and charm of its predecessor. Even worse, there is no cohesive vision, either narratively or visually.

Following the events of the first movie, the emerald-skinned Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo) retreats into hiding while the formerly plucky but now drably inert Glinda (Ariana Grande) obliviously does the bidding of the tyrannical Wizard (Jeff Goldblum) and his ambitious ally, Madame Morrible (a terribly miscast Michelle Yeoh). But Elphaba’s goal of exposing the Wizard brings her and Glinda back together, although in ways neither were anticipating.

In the world of “Wicked”, Oz is a land oppressed by the blandest authoritarian regime. Far removed from the benevolent leader in the original story, this Oz is ran by a weakly defined dictator with a special knack for animal cruelty. As for the citizens, they’re mostly gullible cattle who eat up every bit of propaganda they’re fed. It makes for an Oz that’s more draconian than fantastical. Even the iconic Yellow Brick Road is portrayed as the product of destroyed ecosystems and forced animal labor.

These changes all work to portray Elphaba as a product of the system, which eventually leads her to become the Wicked Witch of the West. The film is relentless in stressing her victimhood in order to make her a sympathetic crusader against the Wizard’s tyranny. But it becomes such a driving focus that Chu forgets more essential things such as coherent storytelling and necessary character development.

As for Grande, her character takes a big hit in the second film. It’s hard to know how the movie wants us to feel about Glinda. She spends much of the film turning a blind eye to the nefarious deeds happening around her. And she gets off with no real sense of reckoning with her own complicity. So we’re left with two conclusions – she’s either dumb as a post or she’s lacks moral courage. Either way, Grande is left to do what she can with an underserved character. And this naturally affects her scenes with Erivo, leaving both actresses struggling to reignite their chemistry from part one.

Even worse is the shortchanging of certain side characters. Take Fiyero (Jonathan Bailey), the captain of the Wizard’s guard and the half-baked love interest of both Glinda and Elphaba. And Nessarose (Marissa Bode), Elphaba’s half-sister who now governs Munchkinland. Both are meant to play significant roles in Elphaba’s story yet huge chunks of their own stories are missing. Both are trapped within horrible storylines, but it’s Bailey who’s dealt the worst hand, including a hysterically bad love scene that plays like a cheap music video.

And if all of that wasn’t enough, there is the shoehorning of Dorothy Gale into the story. This is where the retconning and honoring collide the most. Without question, there’s the tug of nostalgia with the glimpses we get of Dorothy, despite her face always being obscured. But her presence muddies the already mangled script. And it gets even worse with the absurdly contrived and shockingly shallow attempts at origin stories for the Tin Man, Scarecrow, and the Cowardly Lion.

Hampered by one aggravating problem after another, “Wicked: For Good” is a scattershot sequel that never gets on track. Its story erratically bounces all over the place while throwing in bizarre twists with practically no build-up. And nothing in this world feels fleshed out, especially the characters, whose actions often feel arbitrary rather than purposeful. The clumsiness leads to convolution, making it a difficult movie to sit through.

There are some occasionally attractive compositions where the emerald greens collide with the pastel pinks. But the funky cinematography too often makes the ‘Wonderful World of Oz’ look surprisingly fake. And I haven’t even mentioned the music, mainly because there’s not a memorable song in the entire film. So Erivo and Grande are left showing their spectacular range with songs that leave no lasting impression whatsoever. Thats emblematic of “Wicked: For Good” as a whole. It’s a dull and forgettable experience that’s much more messy than magical.

VERDICT – 1.5 STARS

Part mystery, part suspense, part psychological thriller – “The Woman in Cabin 10” is a Netflix Original that wears several hats but doesn’t look completely comfortable in any of them. It’s a movie that starts off strong and sets itself up well. But it comes unglued in the second half, largely due to a ludicrous mid-movie twist which paves the way to an even crazier ending (and not the good kind of crazy).

“The Woman in Cabin 10” is based on a 2016 novel of the same name by Ruth Ware. It’s directed by Simon Stone whose previous film was 2021’s underrated “The Dig”. Working from a script he co-wrote with Joe Shrapnel and Anna Waterhouse, Stone begins with a fairly intriguing premise that has plenty of room for mystery. But what could have been a taut, unnerving thriller suddenly devolves into a hokey mess of recycled clichés, implausible twists, and endless gaslighting.

Keira Knightley plays Laura “Lo” Blacklock, an award-winning journalist working for the popular British daily newspaper The Guardian. Having recently endured a poorly explained and barely explored traumatic experience, Laura’s boss (an underused Gugu Mbatha-Raw) wants her to take some time off. Instead, Laura chooses a new assignment that seems like a good mix of work and relaxation.

A wealthy Norwegian shipping heiress, Anne Lyngstad Bullmer (Lisa Loven Kongsli) has stage 4 leukemia and her husband Richard (Guy Pearce) is setting up a foundation in her name. Richard is treating Anne and the new foundation’s board members to a three-day cruise aboard their swanky luxury yacht, finishing the trip at a fundraising gala in a remote part of Norway. Richard, an admirer of Laura’s work, invites her to come along and cover it all in order to “raise awareness”. She eagerly agrees.

Most of the movie takes place on the billionaire’s extravagant ship, the Aurora Borealis. There Laura is introduced to a variety of characters from guests to staff to crew members, many who are meant to be possible suspects until they aren’t. Most of her time is spent with the special guests – a small group of snooty one-percenters that includes an obnoxious socialite (Daniel Ings), an alcoholic gallery owner (Hannah Waddingham), Anne’s personal doctor (Art Malik), and so on.

Besides Laura, the only other out-of-place guest is her photographer ex-boyfriend Ben (David Ajala) who’s there to shoot the event. Despite their history, Ben is a welcomed reprieve from the pampered people of privilege. But even his actions turn weird and unexplainable, all in an effort to add him to the suspect pool. And why do we have a suspect pool? Late one night, Laura wakes to a scream, a splash, and what looks like a woman’s body in the dark waters. Laura is convinced she saw what she saw. But with everyone accounted for, no one believes her.

Laura becomes a pariah onboard as the movie teases us with what she may or may not have seen. But the story takes an ill-advised turn at around the halfway mark. It’s ignited by a preposterous reveal that sees this potentially sleek and savvy genre-bender turn into trite, impossible to buy silliness. It ends up fumbling a good concept which leads to everything completely falling apart. Its clumsy and absurd finish only makes things worse.

Having two overqualified Academy Award nominees certainly looks nice on the credits. But neither Knightley or Pearce can push their characters through the deflating second-half where logic evaporates and predictability sets in. Thematically, the film teases an ‘eat the rich’ examination, but it falls by the wayside like so much else. It’s one of several backend frustrations that makes “The Woman in Cabin 10” fall well short of its Agatha Christie and Alfred Hitchcock inspirations. “The Woman in Cabin 10” is now streaming on Netflix.

VERDICT – 2 STARS