Another week, another weekly movie round up. After such a lull in film releases, March and April seem to be starting the summer early, packing the theaters with a ton of releases, big and small. There’s probably even more films I could add here, but there just isn’t enough time in the week to get to them all even in review roundups.
And I’m sorry, but after sitting through the first one, I have no interest in suffering through “Winnie the Pooh Blood and Honey 2” no matter much of an improvement people said the sequel is. I’ve got trust issues, and I’m still scarred from the first experience. Nevertheless, there are still some new films hitting theaters soon, some of which I highly recommend others I’d say wait for streaming and a free day.
“Wicked Little Letters” – In Theaters

You had me at Jessie Buckley and Olivia Coleman reuniting. Two powerhouse performers that simply don’t miss even if the film surrounding them does. Buckley in particular is just a delight, always delivering a radiant charm that can’t be denied, while Coleman proves time and time again there’s character she can’t fully embrace and disappear into “Wicked Little Letters” is a worthy reunion of women, a quirky true crime story creates a foul-mouthed language all on its own while brilliantly balancing charm, humor, and emotional resonance. The black comedy is a tricky genre that few can do well and often require some retrospection and revisionist examination. While “Wicked Little Letters” doesn’t quite bring all of its wild swings together, it’s a nice enough package to be a delightfully twisted viewing elevated by terrific lead performances and a zippy script.
Directed by Thea Sharrock and written by Johnny Sweet, “Wicked Little Letters” is a true crime film that follows an investigation into a series of crude, profane ridden letters sent to the residents of a small British town called Littlehampton in the 1920s. The letters are obscene and particularly nasty for a quiet, hyper religious seaside town, and a primary target of them is Edith (Olivia Coleman) a sheltered religious woman under the extreme patriarchal control of her father. The accused culprit of the letters falls to Rose Gooding (Buckley), a wild, spirited and foul mouthed woman who often rubs the uptight townsfolk the wrong way. The letters and accusations put a rift between Edith and Rose, who were at one time kindling a friendship despite being so different. Policewoman Gladys Moss (Anjana Vasan) doesn’t believe Rose is the author, and though the rest of the department can’t get over the fact that she is a woman, Gladys is determined to solve the case and bring the real author to justice. “Wicked Little Letters” also stars Timothy Spall, Joanna Scanlan, Gemma Jones, Hugh Skinner and Tim Key.
There’s nothing quite like listening to Coleman rattle off profane laced letters. Letters that sound like someone is clearly unfamiliar with foul language, a detail that Rose is quick to point out in her defense. The trio of leads in Coleman, Buckley and a deadpan Vasan are the glue that holds “Wicked Little Letters” together, as Sharrock attempts to converge numerous stories as the film reaches its end. They don’t all come together, as the letters, the relationship between Rose and Edith, commentary on religious patriarchy and misogyny, and the investigation itself all feel as if they could exist by themselves. Still, Sharrock has enough confidence to try, and Sweet’s quirky, obscenity laced script helps “Wicked Little Letters” succeed more than it fails. It’s quirk and charm easily overshadow any misgivings, and if you’re willing to let the film wash over you it can quickly become a delightful surprise. I for one was all in on “Wicked Little Letters,” with everything working for me in the end. That may be my own unyielding devotion to Buckley and Coleman as an onscreen pair, but even so “Wicked Little Letters” is a film worth checking out.
Rating: 4 out of 5 Stars
“Sting” – In Theaters April 12th

Given my severe arachnophobia, “Sting” is the kind of horror film that should keep me up at night wonderful what horrors giant spiders have in store for me in the dark. Unfortunately, this tonally imbalanced hybrid is neither thrills nor chills, unable to truly take the reigns to create a fully realized film. Pushed and pulled between horror and comedy, “Sting” ends up doing both poorly, never leaning in to one or the other to wholly embrace the absurdity of its premise and baked in terror of its spider driven monster. What unfolds is a meandering family drama that only serves its characters for the worst, lacking any protagonist worth rooting for. “Sting” should be a wonderful hidden horror gem. Instead, its a less than middling Shudder production, instantly forgotten and wholly unsatisfying.
Written and directed by Kiah Roache-Turner, “Sting” follows Charlotte, a 12 year old girl trapped in a dingy apartment complex during a New York City storm. She sneaks about through the vents (something we’re still doing apparently) stealing trinkets from other apartments, including her dementia ridden grandmother’s doll room. She is obsessed with comic books, and while her step dad is a comic book artist, they have trouble connecting. After a mysterious object falls from the sky and into her bedroom, she discovers it is a spider and decides to keep it in a jar. But this isn’t an ordinary spider. It is intelligent, can communicate with Charlotte, and is growing exponetially. Of course, the clever spider creature begins to outgrown its confines and starts eating larger and larger prey. Soon, not even Charlotte’s family is safe, and she must become the hero and save her family before they become permanently caught in the spiderweb. The film stars Alya Browne, Jermaine Fowler, Ryan Corr, Penelope Mitchell, and Danny Kim.
The basic premise of “Sting” feels like a layup. Alien spider preying on a run down apartment complex during a storm is prime horror, and even prime horror comedy that honestly should just work with minimal effort. Sadly, not only does its tonal indeciveness bog the film down, but it needlessly layers its characters with silly plot device tropes that serve nothing and make them all more dull. Charlotte (Browne) is a brat without reason, and while “Sting” tries to play the broken family card, nothing we learn about her or her family give any reason as to why she’s so damn unlikeable. Everyone except the grandmother with dementia is more grating than endearing, making this weird science spider horror a web of disappointment instead of terrorizing entrapment. “Sting” feels like “arachnophobia” for TikTok, and that is not a compliment.
Rating: 2 out of 5 Stars
“Femme” – In Theaters

You had me at thug George Mackay. I’ve been on an unplanned Mackay kick recently, having now watched “Femme,” “Marrowbone,” and “The Beast” all within a week. The man has RANGE, and seems incredibly conscience of the roles he chooses and how wants to challenge himself. Of his most recent outings, “Femme” may be his most bold and ambitious role outside of his wheelhouse, trading out his charm for self loathing bravado manifested in violence and hatred. “Femme” may be flawed, but there is a vibrant frequency of stylish neon noir and twisted emotional reckoning that fills every single frame. It sometimes feels like an elongated short film and yet, it’s two leads power through its faults and locks you in and keeps you dialed in to its constant push and pull of masculinity vs femininity. “Femme” is a rough watch due to its graphic subject matter, but for every moment I thought I was out, the film’s tremedous leads pulled me back in. It’s a subversive revenge thriller that if you allow to get its hooks into you early, it maintains its tension and never lets up.
Written and directed by Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping, “Femme” tells the story of Jules, a drag performer in East London. When he stops for cigarettes late one night after a performance, he is visciously attacked by Preston (Mackay) and his friends. 3 months later, Jules has quit performing and has become a recluse, afraid to leave his home and engage with his friends. In a twist of fate, Jules decides to visit a gay sauna, where to his shock he sees Preston who doesn’t seem to recognize him outside of drag. Preston invites him back to his flat, and they begin a strange but tense cat and mouse relationship where Preston is desperately trying to hide his true self and Jules is looking for a way to get revenge. Things get complicated when the both seem to be developing something serious, resulting some fiery explosions if and when the truth about each of them come to light.
“Femme” is sexually charged and tense but ultimately powered by its leads in Mackay as Preston and Nathan Stewart-Jarrett as Jules. The two are mesmerizing and wholly committed, embodying the dom and sub dynamics of their relationship built on lies. Not just lies to each other, as each has their own motivations for staying involved with the other, but to themselves. “Femme” has a lot to say about repression and identity, and both leads wrestle with their own inner turmoils as they continue to complicate their lives together. There’s some morally murky undertones that do hold “Femme” back from being a truly great queer revenge thriller. It never truly answers the questions it poses, and its conclusions about redemption and reclamation only end with more questions.
There is so much pain in “Femme,” and it really is Mackay and Stewart-Jarrett that manage to pull this film out of the grasps of self destruction. It is a complicated film about complicated characters, and not all of it comes together as cleanly as intended. But “Femme” is genuinely thrilling, stylish, and sexy, and more than anything it is a film you won’t forget and will want to talk about long after it’s over. It may not be the best approach to its subject matter, but there are enough good ideas performed expertly to make “Femme” a top notch film of the year. Also, Street Fighter is featured prominently in this film, and it is better than every single film iteration. I said what I said.
Rating: 3.5 out of 5 Stars