Minions & Monsters
The thing I appreciate most about Minions & Monsters is its surprising sophistication. Sure, by the end, the film is doing the kinds of things that will engage kids (Minion-piloted spaceships shooting lasers at giant gelatinous blobs), but it begins as a valentine to old-time Hollywood. Along the way, there are opportunities for about a bazillion Easter eggs and cameos, including one of a very famous figure who provided his own voice and proved entirely willing to poke fun at himself. The movie's first half is episodic and scattershot, feeling more like a series of disconnected cartoons merged together, but in a way, that's part of its charm. The main story, which occupies the second half, feels slight but never quite loses its momentum. Whereas 2026's other big animated film, Toy Story 5, seemed diminished in terms of its cross-generational appeal, Minions & Monsters goes in the other direction, amplifying the adult-oriented content.

This is the seventh film to have featured the weird, adorable yellow creatures that first debuted as second fiddle to Gru in the original Despicable Me. It's also their freshest outing since that 2010 feature. Although disjointed and uneven, Minions & Monsters manages to be different, which is a welcome quality for a long-running franchise. It's like when Kirk and company went humpback whale-hunting: familiar characters and tropes, repackaged in new and engaging ways. If Toy Story 5 feels tired, Minions & Monsters feels like it has gotten a new lease on life.

The movie's creaky framing device features a guide (Allison Janney) taking visitors on a tour of a modern-day Universal Studios museum. At one point, she gathers everyone to tell the story of how the Minions - James and Henry in particular (both voiced by Pierre Coffin, the always-and-forever voice of the creatures) - changed Old Hollywood. This leads to various sequences where the Minions, forever in search of new Evil Masters to serve, inadvertently bring about the demise of their bosses (essentially a reprise of the foundational gag from the first Minions movie). Eventually, the yellow horde winds up making a splash in the silent film industry. However, after crashing and burning like so many human stars with the arrival of the talkies, they search for a creative way to regain their fame. Enter Goomi (Trey Parker), a cute, fawning, green creature who promises to introduce them to some big, ugly monsters that can co-star in the creature feature they want to make, capitalizing on Universal's monster movie craze of the immediate post-silent era. But, as Goom's true motives emerge, his supposedly endearing personality traits ultimately vanish.

While Coffin's voice work remains front-and-center, the co-writer/director brings aboard some distinctive, A-list talent to round out the cast. This includes Jeff Bridges as twin studio executives and Christoph Waltz as the director who "discovers" the Minions. Jesse Eisenberg is also on hand as a robot whose deus ex machina function doesn't rankle much in an animated romp like this, especially since the convenience of his arrival is likely part of the joke.

With a movie like this, the crucial question is how well it plays for kids. While it's probably not quite in the sweet spot that Toy Story 5 occupies, the slapstick Minions have an appeal all their own, and it's used to its best potential here. Where the latest adventure of Buzz and Woody seems to be repeating earlier outings, Minions & Monsters does enough that's new to keep it from falling prey to the most pervasive symptom of sequelitis: boredom. Also, by keeping the running time to a brisk 90 minutes, the Minions don't threaten to overstay their welcome. The end credits are definitely worth hanging around for - there are a lot of fun bits and callbacks designed to bring a smile to your face. Look for some old friends who didn't make it into the film proper.

When it comes to animated sequels, I can be something of a curmudgeon, but Minions & Monsters hits the right spot for me. It's the first mainstream release of the summer that I feel comfortable wholeheartedly recommending for family viewing, and the first one that didn't leave me with at least an inkling of disappointment.

© James Berardinelli

Minions & Monsters 3D
The thing I appreciate most about Minions & Monsters is its surprising sophistication. Sure, by the end, the film is doing the kinds of things that will engage kids (Minion-piloted spaceships shooting lasers at giant gelatinous blobs), but it begins as a valentine to old-time Hollywood. Along the way, there are opportunities for about a bazillion Easter eggs and cameos, including one of a very famous figure who provided his own voice and proved entirely willing to poke fun at himself. The movie's first half is episodic and scattershot, feeling more like a series of disconnected cartoons merged together, but in a way, that's part of its charm. The main story, which occupies the second half, feels slight but never quite loses its momentum. Whereas 2026's other big animated film, Toy Story 5, seemed diminished in terms of its cross-generational appeal, Minions & Monsters goes in the other direction, amplifying the adult-oriented content.

This is the seventh film to have featured the weird, adorable yellow creatures that first debuted as second fiddle to Gru in the original Despicable Me. It's also their freshest outing since that 2010 feature. Although disjointed and uneven, Minions & Monsters manages to be different, which is a welcome quality for a long-running franchise. It's like when Kirk and company went humpback whale-hunting: familiar characters and tropes, repackaged in new and engaging ways. If Toy Story 5 feels tired, Minions & Monsters feels like it has gotten a new lease on life.

The movie's creaky framing device features a guide (Allison Janney) taking visitors on a tour of a modern-day Universal Studios museum. At one point, she gathers everyone to tell the story of how the Minions - James and Henry in particular (both voiced by Pierre Coffin, the always-and-forever voice of the creatures) - changed Old Hollywood. This leads to various sequences where the Minions, forever in search of new Evil Masters to serve, inadvertently bring about the demise of their bosses (essentially a reprise of the foundational gag from the first Minions movie). Eventually, the yellow horde winds up making a splash in the silent film industry. However, after crashing and burning like so many human stars with the arrival of the talkies, they search for a creative way to regain their fame. Enter Goomi (Trey Parker), a cute, fawning, green creature who promises to introduce them to some big, ugly monsters that can co-star in the creature feature they want to make, capitalizing on Universal's monster movie craze of the immediate post-silent era. But, as Goom's true motives emerge, his supposedly endearing personality traits ultimately vanish.

While Coffin's voice work remains front-and-center, the co-writer/director brings aboard some distinctive, A-list talent to round out the cast. This includes Jeff Bridges as twin studio executives and Christoph Waltz as the director who "discovers" the Minions. Jesse Eisenberg is also on hand as a robot whose deus ex machina function doesn't rankle much in an animated romp like this, especially since the convenience of his arrival is likely part of the joke.

With a movie like this, the crucial question is how well it plays for kids. While it's probably not quite in the sweet spot that Toy Story 5 occupies, the slapstick Minions have an appeal all their own, and it's used to its best potential here. Where the latest adventure of Buzz and Woody seems to be repeating earlier outings, Minions & Monsters does enough that's new to keep it from falling prey to the most pervasive symptom of sequelitis: boredom. Also, by keeping the running time to a brisk 90 minutes, the Minions don't threaten to overstay their welcome. The end credits are definitely worth hanging around for - there are a lot of fun bits and callbacks designed to bring a smile to your face. Look for some old friends who didn't make it into the film proper.

When it comes to animated sequels, I can be something of a curmudgeon, but Minions & Monsters hits the right spot for me. It's the first mainstream release of the summer that I feel comfortable wholeheartedly recommending for family viewing, and the first one that didn't leave me with at least an inkling of disappointment.

© James Berardinelli

Minions & Monsters: The IMAX Experience
The thing I appreciate most about Minions & Monsters is its surprising sophistication. Sure, by the end, the film is doing the kinds of things that will engage kids (Minion-piloted spaceships shooting lasers at giant gelatinous blobs), but it begins as a valentine to old-time Hollywood. Along the way, there are opportunities for about a bazillion Easter eggs and cameos, including one of a very famous figure who provided his own voice and proved entirely willing to poke fun at himself. The movie's first half is episodic and scattershot, feeling more like a series of disconnected cartoons merged together, but in a way, that's part of its charm. The main story, which occupies the second half, feels slight but never quite loses its momentum. Whereas 2026's other big animated film, Toy Story 5, seemed diminished in terms of its cross-generational appeal, Minions & Monsters goes in the other direction, amplifying the adult-oriented content.

This is the seventh film to have featured the weird, adorable yellow creatures that first debuted as second fiddle to Gru in the original Despicable Me. It's also their freshest outing since that 2010 feature. Although disjointed and uneven, Minions & Monsters manages to be different, which is a welcome quality for a long-running franchise. It's like when Kirk and company went humpback whale-hunting: familiar characters and tropes, repackaged in new and engaging ways. If Toy Story 5 feels tired, Minions & Monsters feels like it has gotten a new lease on life.

The movie's creaky framing device features a guide (Allison Janney) taking visitors on a tour of a modern-day Universal Studios museum. At one point, she gathers everyone to tell the story of how the Minions - James and Henry in particular (both voiced by Pierre Coffin, the always-and-forever voice of the creatures) - changed Old Hollywood. This leads to various sequences where the Minions, forever in search of new Evil Masters to serve, inadvertently bring about the demise of their bosses (essentially a reprise of the foundational gag from the first Minions movie). Eventually, the yellow horde winds up making a splash in the silent film industry. However, after crashing and burning like so many human stars with the arrival of the talkies, they search for a creative way to regain their fame. Enter Goomi (Trey Parker), a cute, fawning, green creature who promises to introduce them to some big, ugly monsters that can co-star in the creature feature they want to make, capitalizing on Universal's monster movie craze of the immediate post-silent era. But, as Goom's true motives emerge, his supposedly endearing personality traits ultimately vanish.

While Coffin's voice work remains front-and-center, the co-writer/director brings aboard some distinctive, A-list talent to round out the cast. This includes Jeff Bridges as twin studio executives and Christoph Waltz as the director who "discovers" the Minions. Jesse Eisenberg is also on hand as a robot whose deus ex machina function doesn't rankle much in an animated romp like this, especially since the convenience of his arrival is likely part of the joke.

With a movie like this, the crucial question is how well it plays for kids. While it's probably not quite in the sweet spot that Toy Story 5 occupies, the slapstick Minions have an appeal all their own, and it's used to its best potential here. Where the latest adventure of Buzz and Woody seems to be repeating earlier outings, Minions & Monsters does enough that's new to keep it from falling prey to the most pervasive symptom of sequelitis: boredom. Also, by keeping the running time to a brisk 90 minutes, the Minions don't threaten to overstay their welcome. The end credits are definitely worth hanging around for - there are a lot of fun bits and callbacks designed to bring a smile to your face. Look for some old friends who didn't make it into the film proper.

When it comes to animated sequels, I can be something of a curmudgeon, but Minions & Monsters hits the right spot for me. It's the first mainstream release of the summer that I feel comfortable wholeheartedly recommending for family viewing, and the first one that didn't leave me with at least an inkling of disappointment.

© James Berardinelli

Supergirl
It's possible to acknowledge what a movie is trying to do without wholeheartedly embracing how it goes about the task. That's the issue with Craig Gillespie's Supergirl: solid premise, mediocre execution. Despite an intriguing arc for Milly Alcock's title character, the film repeatedly stumbles, losing momentum through a series of self-inflicted wounds. Two of these stand out: an unnecessary sidekick whose primary purpose is to facilitate exposition and provide a shortcut to an emotional catharsis, and a glaringly weak villain. There are other nits to pick, but those are the two primary offenders, and their presence severely diminishes the film.

There are times, however, when it almost works. Alcock is excellent here; her character is a powder keg of self-destructive impulses, guilt, and conscience. Her past haunts her, and she is constantly on the run from her future. The way the film allows her to binge-party her way into oblivion is quite clever (she visits planets that orbit red suns, neutralizing the powers she possesses under a yellow sun), and Alcock effectively conveys the underlying pain. Furthermore, I appreciate that this movie isn't about saving a world; it's about saving a soul. It's a shame that thematic focus gets muddled by a "little sister" intrusion in the form of a newly orphaned girl named Ruthye (Eve Ridley).

Ruthye is one of those characters who exists solely to be repeatedly thrust into danger, thereby forcing Kara to save her. This setup allows for gratuitous action scenes and the forced emergence of a conscience. Emotional manipulation is part and parcel of cinema, but there's a vast difference between a skillful tug on the heartstrings and a ham-fisted approach, and this leans heavily toward the latter. Ruthye never feels like a genuine person, which considerably curtails her effectiveness. She isn't quite as annoying as Kara's super-dog, Krypto, but at least the canine is only around for a little while.

The narrative revolves around Kara's planet-hopping quest to locate the antidote for the poisonous dart that downed Krypto. The dog has three days to live, meaning that is exactly how long she has to track down the bandit warlord Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts), who possesses the cure. Her journey brings her into contact with both Ruthye, who is seeking revenge against Krem, and the dreaded Lobo (Jason Momoa) - a bounty hunter who, amusingly enough, bears a passing resemblance to Aquaman.

As bad guys go, Krem is bottom-of-the-barrel fare. Aside from being a generic sadist, he isn't especially impressive in terms of either motivation or overall villainy. He lacks charisma and menace, feeling more like a street-level thug Batman might face. Consequently, Kara (at least once she is back under a yellow sun) should be able to wipe the floor with him. His scheme - which involves the trafficking of young women for breeding purposes - is undeniably vile. However, the film is forced to dance around this plot point, because delving any deeper into such grim subject matter would swiftly push the PG-13 rating into R-rated territory.

While Gillespie has made his share of large-budget features, he has never helmed one heavily reliant on massive action set-pieces, and his inexperience shows. Even though the fights feature some humorous beats, there is a distinct lack of tension and suspense. The brawls come across as rote - included largely because they are expected rather than strictly necessary. Ironically, the moments when Kara faces true, life-threatening danger occur not during these sprawling melees, but when she finds herself caught in the kind of elaborate traps that so often ensnare Superman.

Speaking of the Man of Steel, the current iteration of Superman (played by David Corenswet) is on hand to welcome his cousin into the new DC Universe. While this isn't inherently a mistake, the way he is shoehorned into the script is problematic. With a character this significant, there are only two sensible ways to incorporate him: as a brief cameo or with a legitimate, plot-driven role. Gillespie and screenwriter Ana Nogueira opt for an unfortunate middle ground. Superman repeatedly pops up with nothing to do beyond reminding the viewer that he exists. (There also seems to be a slight disconnect between aspects of Kara's origin story and the "twist" to Superman's lore revealed in his 2025 solo film.)

Thus far, James Gunn's stewardship of DC has yet to bear the hoped-for fruit. His Superman was middling, and Supergirl lands closer to a misfire than a hit. Both films ultimately feel frustrating - as if they are afraid of doing anything truly edgy for fear of deviating from a prescribed tone. The underlying concept of Supergirl is strong, but the filmmakers insist on neutering its darker elements in service of a catharsis that feels only half-earned. Fans can at least be thankful that it surpasses the awful 1984 Helen Slater film (which I described as "supremely stupid and natteringly nonsensical") and avoids strictly following the Standard Order Comic Book Movie Template (TM). However, those are incredibly low bars to clear. Beyond such minor victories, Supergirl simply doesn't do enough that is interesting or fresh to make it a memorable motion picture.

© 2026 James Berardinelli

Supergirl 3D
It's possible to acknowledge what a movie is trying to do without wholeheartedly embracing how it goes about the task. That's the issue with Craig Gillespie's Supergirl: solid premise, mediocre execution. Despite an intriguing arc for Milly Alcock's title character, the film repeatedly stumbles, losing momentum through a series of self-inflicted wounds. Two of these stand out: an unnecessary sidekick whose primary purpose is to facilitate exposition and provide a shortcut to an emotional catharsis, and a glaringly weak villain. There are other nits to pick, but those are the two primary offenders, and their presence severely diminishes the film.

There are times, however, when it almost works. Alcock is excellent here; her character is a powder keg of self-destructive impulses, guilt, and conscience. Her past haunts her, and she is constantly on the run from her future. The way the film allows her to binge-party her way into oblivion is quite clever (she visits planets that orbit red suns, neutralizing the powers she possesses under a yellow sun), and Alcock effectively conveys the underlying pain. Furthermore, I appreciate that this movie isn't about saving a world; it's about saving a soul. It's a shame that thematic focus gets muddled by a "little sister" intrusion in the form of a newly orphaned girl named Ruthye (Eve Ridley).

Ruthye is one of those characters who exists solely to be repeatedly thrust into danger, thereby forcing Kara to save her. This setup allows for gratuitous action scenes and the forced emergence of a conscience. Emotional manipulation is part and parcel of cinema, but there's a vast difference between a skillful tug on the heartstrings and a ham-fisted approach, and this leans heavily toward the latter. Ruthye never feels like a genuine person, which considerably curtails her effectiveness. She isn't quite as annoying as Kara's super-dog, Krypto, but at least the canine is only around for a little while.

The narrative revolves around Kara's planet-hopping quest to locate the antidote for the poisonous dart that downed Krypto. The dog has three days to live, meaning that is exactly how long she has to track down the bandit warlord Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts), who possesses the cure. Her journey brings her into contact with both Ruthye, who is seeking revenge against Krem, and the dreaded Lobo (Jason Momoa) - a bounty hunter who, amusingly enough, bears a passing resemblance to Aquaman.

As bad guys go, Krem is bottom-of-the-barrel fare. Aside from being a generic sadist, he isn't especially impressive in terms of either motivation or overall villainy. He lacks charisma and menace, feeling more like a street-level thug Batman might face. Consequently, Kara (at least once she is back under a yellow sun) should be able to wipe the floor with him. His scheme - which involves the trafficking of young women for breeding purposes - is undeniably vile. However, the film is forced to dance around this plot point, because delving any deeper into such grim subject matter would swiftly push the PG-13 rating into R-rated territory.

While Gillespie has made his share of large-budget features, he has never helmed one heavily reliant on massive action set-pieces, and his inexperience shows. Even though the fights feature some humorous beats, there is a distinct lack of tension and suspense. The brawls come across as rote - included largely because they are expected rather than strictly necessary. Ironically, the moments when Kara faces true, life-threatening danger occur not during these sprawling melees, but when she finds herself caught in the kind of elaborate traps that so often ensnare Superman.

Speaking of the Man of Steel, the current iteration of Superman (played by David Corenswet) is on hand to welcome his cousin into the new DC Universe. While this isn't inherently a mistake, the way he is shoehorned into the script is problematic. With a character this significant, there are only two sensible ways to incorporate him: as a brief cameo or with a legitimate, plot-driven role. Gillespie and screenwriter Ana Nogueira opt for an unfortunate middle ground. Superman repeatedly pops up with nothing to do beyond reminding the viewer that he exists. (There also seems to be a slight disconnect between aspects of Kara's origin story and the "twist" to Superman's lore revealed in his 2025 solo film.)

Thus far, James Gunn's stewardship of DC has yet to bear the hoped-for fruit. His Superman was middling, and Supergirl lands closer to a misfire than a hit. Both films ultimately feel frustrating - as if they are afraid of doing anything truly edgy for fear of deviating from a prescribed tone. The underlying concept of Supergirl is strong, but the filmmakers insist on neutering its darker elements in service of a catharsis that feels only half-earned. Fans can at least be thankful that it surpasses the awful 1984 Helen Slater film (which I described as "supremely stupid and natteringly nonsensical") and avoids strictly following the Standard Order Comic Book Movie Template (TM). However, those are incredibly low bars to clear. Beyond such minor victories, Supergirl simply doesn't do enough that is interesting or fresh to make it a memorable motion picture.

© 2026 James Berardinelli

Toy Story 5
It's somewhat amazing that, despite being 31 years old, the Toy Story franchise continues to retain a broad-based appeal unlike that of any other animated property. A cross-generational draw is certainly part of the equation: an eight-year-old who saw the first movie in a theater might now have their own eight-year-old ready to watch this latest installment. And, although the series has repeatedly flirted with the perfect ending (something actually achieved with Toy Story 3), it has been unable to avoid the temptation to keep things going. Even the poorly conceived Lightyear couldn't quench fans' desire for yet another adventure with Woody, Buzz, and the gang.

Still, the fifth Toy Story is easily the weakest of the bunch, and there are indications that co-writer/co-director Andrew Stanton (the franchise's co-creator who has had a hand in all the installments) may be running low on ideas. This time around, the story opts to focus on Jessie the cowgirl (Joan Cusack) at the expense of Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen) and Woody (Tom Hanks), who have reduced roles. Woody, in particular, gets the short end of the stick; he is reduced to a supporting player without much to do. Buzz's personality is expanded by virtue of a romance with Jessie but, even factoring in a disjointed subplot featuring scores of Buzzes, his screentime is curtailed. Many favorite Toy Story stalwarts are boxed up and put in the garage for a large portion of the film, and the newcomers, like Smarty Pants (Conan O'Brien) and Lilypad (Greta Lee), don't adequately fill the gap. Longtime Toy Story fans may feel like there's something missing.

The biggest problem is likely that when a franchise reaches the level of quality that Toy Story has achieved, especially with the third installment, any slippage becomes noticeable. Toy Story 5 clearly exists for financial reasons. Pixar has seen massive success with sequels, and Toy Story remains its most venerable and bankable property. Toy Story 5 is a better-than-average animated film, but that has never really been the bar for these movies.

It's surprising and a little disappointing that the story adopts such a stringent anti-tech stance (this borders on preachiness and I don't expect a Luddite sermon from a Toy Story movie). Although there are legitimate concerns about child screen time, Toy Story 5 weaponizes these by both overdoing the negative social impacts (why would someone Bonnie's age be allowed to chat in the first place?) and ignoring anything positive. Additionally, it adopts an either/or approach with devices. Most children do not simply abandon hands-on play in favor of gadgets; instead, they do both. A six-year-old girl is perfectly capable of playing a game on an iPad, then pivoting to painting with watercolors and creating a make-believe scenario with Barbie dolls.

The storyline postulates that Bonnie (Scarlett Spears) has lost interest in playing with her old toys when she is given the tablet Lilypad. (This echoes a theme from the first Toy Story, where Buzz's arrival resulted in Andy pivoting away from Woody.) Bonnie's inherent shyness (the implication is that she's somewhere on the autism spectrum, although this is never explicitly stated) is amplified by Lily's arrival. When she decides to attend a sleepover with three other girls, Jessie and Bullseye hitch a ride - a move that becomes ill-advised when Bonnie returns home without them. Woody, who has returned from his new job of rescuing discarded toys, and Buzz re-team to find Jessie, who has connected with a new girl, Blaze (Mykal-Michelle Harris).

When it comes to the film's look, Toy Story 5 changes things up by including sequences that are 2-D (to represent "play" setups). Although a solid concept, the execution is questionable because of the dubious quality of the animation. None of this appears to be hand-drawn, and 2-D CGI lacks the beauty and human touch of the more time-consuming, old-school approach. The effects of time's passage are evident in some of the voices. Although Tom Hanks and Tim Allen sound as robust as ever, Joan Cusack's voice is noticeably different, and old-timers like John Ratzenberger and Wallace Shawn are reduced to having cameos. (Plus, with so many of the original voice cast members having died, there are numerous sound-alikes that don't quite pass muster.)

Although it's not necessarily a serious problem for kid-focused animation, the story is all over the place. A subplot featuring a large collection of new Buzz toys feels grafted on as a way to give Buzz more screen time. Woody is largely disconnected (which makes sense considering the ending of Toy Story 4), and the central narrative feels like a watered-down retread of elements from Inside Out 2. There are still some nice Buzz/Woody moments, and the fleeting acknowledgment of the passage of time can pluck the heartstrings, but the things that made the earlier Toy Story films so beloved are either absent or diminished. I'll admit to enjoying spending a little more time with these characters, but this new adventure doesn't feel significant, and its best elements are just rehashes of things that have gone before.

© 2026 James Berardinelli

Toy Story 5 3D
It's somewhat amazing that, despite being 31 years old, the Toy Story franchise continues to retain a broad-based appeal unlike that of any other animated property. A cross-generational draw is certainly part of the equation: an eight-year-old who saw the first movie in a theater might now have their own eight-year-old ready to watch this latest installment. And, although the series has repeatedly flirted with the perfect ending (something actually achieved with Toy Story 3), it has been unable to avoid the temptation to keep things going. Even the poorly conceived Lightyear couldn't quench fans' desire for yet another adventure with Woody, Buzz, and the gang.

Still, the fifth Toy Story is easily the weakest of the bunch, and there are indications that co-writer/co-director Andrew Stanton (the franchise's co-creator who has had a hand in all the installments) may be running low on ideas. This time around, the story opts to focus on Jessie the cowgirl (Joan Cusack) at the expense of Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen) and Woody (Tom Hanks), who have reduced roles. Woody, in particular, gets the short end of the stick; he is reduced to a supporting player without much to do. Buzz's personality is expanded by virtue of a romance with Jessie but, even factoring in a disjointed subplot featuring scores of Buzzes, his screentime is curtailed. Many favorite Toy Story stalwarts are boxed up and put in the garage for a large portion of the film, and the newcomers, like Smarty Pants (Conan O'Brien) and Lilypad (Greta Lee), don't adequately fill the gap. Longtime Toy Story fans may feel like there's something missing.

The biggest problem is likely that when a franchise reaches the level of quality that Toy Story has achieved, especially with the third installment, any slippage becomes noticeable. Toy Story 5 clearly exists for financial reasons. Pixar has seen massive success with sequels, and Toy Story remains its most venerable and bankable property. Toy Story 5 is a better-than-average animated film, but that has never really been the bar for these movies.

It's surprising and a little disappointing that the story adopts such a stringent anti-tech stance (this borders on preachiness and I don't expect a Luddite sermon from a Toy Story movie). Although there are legitimate concerns about child screen time, Toy Story 5 weaponizes these by both overdoing the negative social impacts (why would someone Bonnie's age be allowed to chat in the first place?) and ignoring anything positive. Additionally, it adopts an either/or approach with devices. Most children do not simply abandon hands-on play in favor of gadgets; instead, they do both. A six-year-old girl is perfectly capable of playing a game on an iPad, then pivoting to painting with watercolors and creating a make-believe scenario with Barbie dolls.

The storyline postulates that Bonnie (Scarlett Spears) has lost interest in playing with her old toys when she is given the tablet Lilypad. (This echoes a theme from the first Toy Story, where Buzz's arrival resulted in Andy pivoting away from Woody.) Bonnie's inherent shyness (the implication is that she's somewhere on the autism spectrum, although this is never explicitly stated) is amplified by Lily's arrival. When she decides to attend a sleepover with three other girls, Jessie and Bullseye hitch a ride - a move that becomes ill-advised when Bonnie returns home without them. Woody, who has returned from his new job of rescuing discarded toys, and Buzz re-team to find Jessie, who has connected with a new girl, Blaze (Mykal-Michelle Harris).

When it comes to the film's look, Toy Story 5 changes things up by including sequences that are 2-D (to represent "play" setups). Although a solid concept, the execution is questionable because of the dubious quality of the animation. None of this appears to be hand-drawn, and 2-D CGI lacks the beauty and human touch of the more time-consuming, old-school approach. The effects of time's passage are evident in some of the voices. Although Tom Hanks and Tim Allen sound as robust as ever, Joan Cusack's voice is noticeably different, and old-timers like John Ratzenberger and Wallace Shawn are reduced to having cameos. (Plus, with so many of the original voice cast members having died, there are numerous sound-alikes that don't quite pass muster.)

Although it's not necessarily a serious problem for kid-focused animation, the story is all over the place. A subplot featuring a large collection of new Buzz toys feels grafted on as a way to give Buzz more screen time. Woody is largely disconnected (which makes sense considering the ending of Toy Story 4), and the central narrative feels like a watered-down retread of elements from Inside Out 2. There are still some nice Buzz/Woody moments, and the fleeting acknowledgment of the passage of time can pluck the heartstrings, but the things that made the earlier Toy Story films so beloved are either absent or diminished. I'll admit to enjoying spending a little more time with these characters, but this new adventure doesn't feel significant, and its best elements are just rehashes of things that have gone before.

© 2026 James Berardinelli

Toy Story 5: The IMAX Experience
It's somewhat amazing that, despite being 31 years old, the Toy Story franchise continues to retain a broad-based appeal unlike that of any other animated property. A cross-generational draw is certainly part of the equation: an eight-year-old who saw the first movie in a theater might now have their own eight-year-old ready to watch this latest installment. And, although the series has repeatedly flirted with the perfect ending (something actually achieved with Toy Story 3), it has been unable to avoid the temptation to keep things going. Even the poorly conceived Lightyear couldn't quench fans' desire for yet another adventure with Woody, Buzz, and the gang.

Still, the fifth Toy Story is easily the weakest of the bunch, and there are indications that co-writer/co-director Andrew Stanton (the franchise's co-creator who has had a hand in all the installments) may be running low on ideas. This time around, the story opts to focus on Jessie the cowgirl (Joan Cusack) at the expense of Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen) and Woody (Tom Hanks), who have reduced roles. Woody, in particular, gets the short end of the stick; he is reduced to a supporting player without much to do. Buzz's personality is expanded by virtue of a romance with Jessie but, even factoring in a disjointed subplot featuring scores of Buzzes, his screentime is curtailed. Many favorite Toy Story stalwarts are boxed up and put in the garage for a large portion of the film, and the newcomers, like Smarty Pants (Conan O'Brien) and Lilypad (Greta Lee), don't adequately fill the gap. Longtime Toy Story fans may feel like there's something missing.

The biggest problem is likely that when a franchise reaches the level of quality that Toy Story has achieved, especially with the third installment, any slippage becomes noticeable. Toy Story 5 clearly exists for financial reasons. Pixar has seen massive success with sequels, and Toy Story remains its most venerable and bankable property. Toy Story 5 is a better-than-average animated film, but that has never really been the bar for these movies.

It's surprising and a little disappointing that the story adopts such a stringent anti-tech stance (this borders on preachiness and I don't expect a Luddite sermon from a Toy Story movie). Although there are legitimate concerns about child screen time, Toy Story 5 weaponizes these by both overdoing the negative social impacts (why would someone Bonnie's age be allowed to chat in the first place?) and ignoring anything positive. Additionally, it adopts an either/or approach with devices. Most children do not simply abandon hands-on play in favor of gadgets; instead, they do both. A six-year-old girl is perfectly capable of playing a game on an iPad, then pivoting to painting with watercolors and creating a make-believe scenario with Barbie dolls.

The storyline postulates that Bonnie (Scarlett Spears) has lost interest in playing with her old toys when she is given the tablet Lilypad. (This echoes a theme from the first Toy Story, where Buzz's arrival resulted in Andy pivoting away from Woody.) Bonnie's inherent shyness (the implication is that she's somewhere on the autism spectrum, although this is never explicitly stated) is amplified by Lily's arrival. When she decides to attend a sleepover with three other girls, Jessie and Bullseye hitch a ride - a move that becomes ill-advised when Bonnie returns home without them. Woody, who has returned from his new job of rescuing discarded toys, and Buzz re-team to find Jessie, who has connected with a new girl, Blaze (Mykal-Michelle Harris).

When it comes to the film's look, Toy Story 5 changes things up by including sequences that are 2-D (to represent "play" setups). Although a solid concept, the execution is questionable because of the dubious quality of the animation. None of this appears to be hand-drawn, and 2-D CGI lacks the beauty and human touch of the more time-consuming, old-school approach. The effects of time's passage are evident in some of the voices. Although Tom Hanks and Tim Allen sound as robust as ever, Joan Cusack's voice is noticeably different, and old-timers like John Ratzenberger and Wallace Shawn are reduced to having cameos. (Plus, with so many of the original voice cast members having died, there are numerous sound-alikes that don't quite pass muster.)

Although it's not necessarily a serious problem for kid-focused animation, the story is all over the place. A subplot featuring a large collection of new Buzz toys feels grafted on as a way to give Buzz more screen time. Woody is largely disconnected (which makes sense considering the ending of Toy Story 4), and the central narrative feels like a watered-down retread of elements from Inside Out 2. There are still some nice Buzz/Woody moments, and the fleeting acknowledgment of the passage of time can pluck the heartstrings, but the things that made the earlier Toy Story films so beloved are either absent or diminished. I'll admit to enjoying spending a little more time with these characters, but this new adventure doesn't feel significant, and its best elements are just rehashes of things that have gone before.

© 2026 James Berardinelli

Disclosure Day
Steven Spielberg loves his aliens. Although he did make them the villains in War of the Worlds, his view toward extraterrestrial life has generally been benign, whether it's Close Encounters of the Third Kind, E.T., or Disclosure Day. The legendary director's valentine to ufology, Disclosure Day is the weakest of the three films, due in large part to a scattershot screenplay from David Koepp that is rife with plot holes and incomplete character arcs. Nevertheless, Spielberg finds a measure of his old magic during the climax and denouement, which hearken back to Close Encounters while finding their own footing.

It's fair to wonder whether Disclosure Day's sometimes maddening narrative issues are the result of editing decisions. Although the movie still clocks in at a respectable 145 minutes, my guess is that the original cut may have been much longer, and attempts to slim down the theatrical version may have resulted in decisions that hampered overall coherence. Two characters in particular - Colin Firth's Noah Scanlon and Colman Domingo's Hugo Wakefield - appear to have retained only a portion of their original arcs. A conversation between them comes across like an incomplete exposition dump.

The movie opens midway through a story whose beginning we only discover through dialogue. It's an intriguing way to start things because it demands that the viewer pay attention to keep from becoming completely lost. Initially, we learn that Daniel Kellner (Josh O'Connor) is in possession of a dangerous alien artifact that he's using to bargain for the return of his girlfriend, Jane (Eve Hewson), who has been kidnapped by the amoral Noah. Noah is the head of a private corporation working with the U.S. Defense Department to reverse-engineer extraterrestrial technology, and Daniel represents a threat that must be eliminated. Daniel is soon on the run with Jane, taking orders from Hugo.

The second prong of the story relates to Kansas City weathergirl Margaret Fairchild (Emily Blunt), who experiences a change in consciousness when a cardinal flies through a window into her apartment. She can suddenly read minds and distort perceptions. One day, while on the air, she begins to speak gibberish. This is actually an alien language—and the only one who can translate it is Daniel, who realizes this when he watches a YouTube clip of her viral weathercast. Soon, Margaret is also on the run from Noah's goons, drawn by an unknown compulsion to find Daniel.

One of the film's weaknesses is the seemingly inordinate amount of time it spends with the characters being chased. The intention is to impart excitement, but it occasionally feels manufactured. The payoff in which the connection between Margaret and Daniel is revealed is also underwhelming. One can understand what Spielberg and Koepp are striving for here, but they don't quite get there. Instead of a spiritual or mystical moment, it feels almost hokey, and the use of animal imagery is not well-integrated.

The actual Disclosure Day aspect, which comprises the movie's final act, is handled in a mostly compelling fashion (although things with Noah are resolved too cleanly). This concept is clearly something that greatly interests Spielberg, and he dramatizes it effectively. Another intriguing element is the philosophical framework he posits for how certain religions (in this case, Catholicism) might reconcile alien life with traditional Biblical teachings.

The cast is an eclectic mix, with the three main leads - Emily Blunt, Josh O'Connor, and Colin Firth - hailing from the U.K. (although only Firth is allowed to retain his accent). Of the top five stars, only Colman Domingo is American (Eve Hewson is Irish). Domingo's role is the showiest, and he is the most charismatic. Firth is singularly effective as the villain, a part he rarely plays. The two leads, Blunt and O'Connor, are the most subdued of the performers.

The connective tissue between Disclosure Day and Close Encounters of the Third Kind is strong. Both films share thematic elements and ideas about extraterrestrial visitations, although the latter film is ultimately more optimistic. As Close Encounters follows the journeys of Roy Neary (Richard Dreyfuss) and Jillian Guiler (Melinda Dillon) to a final meeting with aliens, so Disclosure Day does something similar with Margaret and Daniel. As Close Encounters explores Claude Lacombe's (François Truffaut) obsessive pursuit of contact, Disclosure Day offers Hugo's similar goals. The tagline for Close Encounters is "We are not alone." A character in Disclosure Day speaks this very line. The only thing missing - and it probably would have been too precious to include - is John Williams echoing the famous five-note tune from his 1977 score.

Ultimately, Disclosure Day won't go down among Spielberg's greatest or best-remembered films, although ufologists may disagree. There are just too many basic flaws. However, I appreciate its scope and ambition, and it does enough to represent solid, blockbuster-level entertainment. I can't help but wonder whether, like James Cameron's The Abyss and Ridley Scott's Kingdom of Heaven - two ambitious films stifled and damaged by the realities of a commercial release - a better, longer version of Disclosure Day might eventually surface. Until then, this is what we have, and it works on its own terms, however imperfectly.

© 2026 James Berardinelli

Masters Of The Universe
I think that if I had a deeper connection to the He-Man universe, I might have reacted more positively to the 2026 Masters of the Universe. It's apparent to me, even as an outsider, that there's a whole lotta fan service going on. Too much, in fact, because it sometimes becomes a distraction. Good fan service is when a movie includes references and Easter eggs that feel organic to the project. Bad fan service is when the inclusions are so frequent and obvious that they make the uninitiated feel a little unwelcome. Masters of the Universe hews closer to the latter.

In adapting the popular 1980s Saturday morning cartoon for theatrical consumption, director Travis Knight (along with an army of credited and uncredited writers, many of whom didn't actually contribute to the final screenplay) has jettisoned past continuities to establish a new, clean timeline - excepting all those aforementioned fan service bits. The filmmakers wisely recognize that the underpinning mythology wouldn't pass muster in today's climate, so they opt for a quasi-jokey tone, not unlike the one adopted by the recent Dungeons & Dragons movie or The Princess Bride. Finding the sweet spot for this sort of film - occasionally comedic but not fully satirical - can be a difficult challenge, and Knight lacks the adroitness of a Lord/Miller or Ryan Reynolds. The most glaring issue is how the movie treats the central villain, Skeletor (Jared Leto), who comes across more as a fatuous boob than someone to be feared. He's not unlike Dr. Evil, but Austin Powers was a full-on lampoon, not a story with aspirations to be taken semi-seriously.

Aspects of the story seem confusingly compressed for anyone without prior knowledge (or a handy cheat sheet). Things start with a prologue detailing how Adam (Nicholas Galitzine) becomes stranded on Earth following the takeover of his home world, Eternia, by Skeletor and the mass imprisonment of his friends and family: his father, King Randor (James Purefoy); his mother, Queen Marlena (Charlotte Riley); his sparring partner, Teela (Camila Mendes); and his protector, Man-at-Arms Duncan (Idris Elba). Then, following an unconvincing interlude in which we learn that Adam is a big, delusional dork with a sword obsession, he finds his way back to Eternia (with a major assist from Teela) and begins his quest to rid the world of the plague that is Skeletor and his henchwoman, Evil-Lyn (Alison Brie).

The two biggest issues I have with the movie relate to the representations of both the hero and the villain. Adam is so completely clueless that he seems to have wandered out of a bad '80s drive-in flick. We are given no indication of how he survived and evolved during the 15-year gap in the story, and his idiocy is more irritating than charming. Actor Nicholas Galitzine has a likable personality, but his performance feels better aligned with a low-budget TV movie than a big-budget theatrical spectacle.

The decision to make Skeletor a preening, fatuous weirdo rather than a genuinely intimidating villain undercuts any chance Masters of the Universe has of working on a more serious level. Visually, Skeletor cuts a striking figure. But his characterization is simply bizarre, featuring too much self-referential material and a decidedly unimposing voice. Instead of a deep, grating baritone, we get a cadence that's more conversational than menacing. There's a major disconnect between Skeletor's appearance and his spoken words.

While the cast features some established stars, Idris Elba's reputation arguably sits a level above that of almost anyone else in the production. Elba doesn't exactly phone in the performance, but this isn't the kind of role that requires a great dedication to craft. Still, unlike Marlon Brando in Superman, he doesn't embarrass himself. I assume he was financially well-compensated.

Masters of the Universe is surprisingly violent for a PG-13 film. There is a lot of death in the production - far more than one would normally see in a movie with this rating. It is mostly neutered and bloodless, but it often feels like there was an R-rated version struggling to get out, ultimately precluded by the "family-friendly" nature of the franchise.

The story is riddled with plot holes and dropped threads. Attempts to dismiss this as a result of the film being based on a TV cartoon are disingenuous. The script is a mess, with obvious issues never addressed (why is Skeletor imprisoning, rather than killing, his enemies?), key plot points glossed over (why Earth for Adam's exile?), and narrative beats dropped (no follow-up to the romance/friendship scene between Adam and Teela). Whether this is the result of laziness, an underestimation of audience intelligence, or confusion born from combining so many visions into the final screenplay, such sloppiness is inexcusable.

Masters of the Universe inhabits a gray zone where it's not quite humorous enough to be dismissed as a parody and enjoyed on that level, but it's also not strong enough to be viewed as some kind of epic fantasy. Consequently, although things can be enjoyed on a surface level, nothing feels consequential. I suspect He-Man fans will likely be enamored with the result (even the most barbed of its jabs remain respectful), especially the Dolph Lundgren cameo and the mid-credits introduction of She-Ra. Others may feel that the production leans too closely into its cartoon roots... and not in a good way.

© 2026 James Berardinelli