- Roger Ebert’s Best and Worst Alien Movies (June 11, 2026)
Steven Spielberg’s fourth film about alien encounters is “Disclosure Day,” following “ET: The Extra-Terrestrial,” “War of the Worlds,” and “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” That inspired us to take another look at what Roger Ebert thought about some of the most famous and infamous alien movies, from the inspiring and friendly to the terrorizing and murderous, and from the big-budget blockbusters to the quieter gems.
Over the years, Ebert recommended Ridley Scott’s “magnificent” “Prometheus,” and, contrary to many other critics, M. Night Shyamalan’s “Signs.” He thought the last act was overdone, but he liked “District 9,” calling it “a seamless merger of the mockumentary and special effects,” and appreciated the “harsh parable…about the alienation and treatment of refugees.” He also liked the Spielbergian throw-back of “Super 8”: “A wonderful film, nostalgia not for a time but for a style of filmmaking, when shell-shocked young audiences were told a story and not pounded over the head with aggressive action. Abrams treats early adolescence with tenderness and affection. He uses his camera to accumulate emotion. He has the rural town locations right.” “E.T” and “Close Encounters” both made it into Ebert’s list of the all-time Great Movies.
Check out Ebert’s own look back at his reviews of alien movies on 2016’s World UFO Day, and this selection of his favorites and some of his least favorite, including the one the Razzies picked as the worst in 25 years.
The Best
“Alien”
“At its most fundamental level, “Alien” is a movie about things that can jump out of the dark and kill you…. In another way, Ridley Scott‘s 1979 movie is a great original.” Ebert praised the film’s pacing. “It takes its time. It waits. It allows silences (the majestic opening shots are underscored by Jerry Goldsmith with scarcely audible, far-off metallic chatterings).”
While many people prefer the sequel, “Aliens,” Ebert did not. He said:
“The movie is so intense that it creates a problem for me as a reviewer: Do I praise its craftsmanship, or do I tell you it left me feeling wrung out and unhappy? It has been a week since I saw it, so the emotions have faded a little, leaving with me an appreciation of the movie’s technical qualities. But when I walked out of the theater, there were knots in my stomach from the film’s roller-coaster ride of violence. This is not the kind of movie where it means anything to say you “enjoyed” it.”
“2001: A Space Odyssey”
One year after Ebert began reviewing movies for the Chicago Sun-Times, he attended the premiere of this Stanley Kubrick’s space movie at the Pantages Theater in Los Angeles.
“To describe that first screening as a disaster would be wrong, for many of those who remained until the end knew they had seen one of the greatest films ever made. But not everyone remained. Rock Hudson stalked down the aisle, complaining, “Will someone tell me what the hell this is about?” There were many other walkouts, and some restlessness at the film’s slow pace (Kubrick immediately cut about 17 minutes, including a pod sequence that essentially repeated another one).
The film did not provide the clear narrative and easy entertainment cues the audience expected. The closing sequences, with the astronaut inexplicably finding himself in a bedroom somewhere beyond Jupiter, were baffling. The overnight Hollywood judgment was that Kubrick had become derailed, that in his obsession with effects and set pieces, he had failed to make a movie.
What he had actually done was make a philosophical statement about man’s place in the universe, using images as those before him had used words, music or prayer. And he had made it in a way that invited us to contemplate it — not to experience it vicariously as entertainment, as we might in a good conventional science-fiction film, but to stand outside it as a philosopher might, and think about it.”
“Dark City”
Ebert called Anton Proyas’s mash-up of noir and science fiction about aliens who distort and replace the memories of humans and even physical reality “a great visionary achievement…original and exciting.”
“The movie is a glorious marriage of existential dread and slam-bang action. Toward the end, there is a thrilling apocalyptic battle that nearly destroys the city, and I scribbled in my notes: “For once, a sequence where the fire and explosions really work and don’t play just as effects.” Proyas and his cinematographer, Dariusz Wolski, capture the kinetic energy of great comic books; their framing and foreshortening and tilt shots and distorting lenses shake the images and splash them on the screen, and it’s not “action” but more like action painting.”
“Solaris”
Most aliens in movies either look like terrifying giant insects, lizard-like monsters, or cute and cuddly. In “Solaris,” the “Guest” looks and acts like the main character’s late wife, but with only some of her memories.
Ebert admitted that the first time he saw it, he “balked” because it seemed long and slow, with dry dialogue. But he changed his mind, writing, “The films of Russian director Andrei Tarkovsky are more like environments than entertainments…. He uses length and depth to slow us down, to edge us out of the velocity of our lives, to enter a zone of reverie and meditation.” Ebert gave 3 ½ stars to the “quiet and introspective” 2002 remake by Stephen Soderbergh.
The Worst
“Independence Day”
It was the top box office hit of 1996, but Ebert was not impressed, calling it “a virtual retread–right down to the panic in the streets, as terrified extras flee toward the camera and the skyscrapers frame a horrible sight behind them.” He admitted it was fun in a silly summer action movie way but said there were too many convenient plot holes and too many under-written characters with just one attribute each. “If an alien species ever does visit Earth, I for one hope they have something interesting to share with us. Or, if they must kill us, I hope they do it with something we haven’t seen before, instead of with cornball ray-beams that look designed by the same artists who painted the covers of Amazing Stories magazine in the 1940s.”
“Starship Troopers”
It was panned by some critics and dismissed by ticket-buyers, though some now see it more as an intentional parody than a failed attempt at a sincere sci-fi adventure. Ebert gave it two stars and called it “the most violent kiddie movie ever made.” The aliens “aren’t important except as props for the interminable action scenes, and as an enemy to justify the film’s quasi-fascist militarism.”
“Battlefield Earth”
This film, based on the book by Scientology’s L. Ron Hubbard, was a passion project for John Travolta. It takes place a thousand years after aliens have conquered earth and enslaved humans. Ebert’s description:
“Like taking a bus trip with someone who has needed a bath for a long time. It’s not merely bad; it’s unpleasant in a hostile way. It’s not merely bad; it’s unpleasant in a hostile way. The visuals are grubby and drab. The characters are unkempt and have rotten teeth. Breathing tubes hang from their noses like ropes of snot. The soundtrack sounds like the boom mike is being slammed against the inside of a 55-gallon drum. The plot … This movie is awful in so many different ways.”
That was the general consensus. The worst-of-the-year Razzies not only gave it seven “Golden Raspberry” awards in the year of release but came back to give it a worst of their first 25 years in 2005.
- The 20 Best Films of 2026 So Far (June 11, 2026)
Movies are back! At least that’s what people who love film have been saying in the first half of 2026, largely due to the wild success of Curry Barker’s “Obsession” and Kane Parsons’ “Backrooms.” If we were doing a list of the most essential films of 2026 when it comes to understanding how audiences and the industry are shifting, those two horror indies would be near the top of the list. But we’re not. We’re doing something a little different: highlighting 20 films from 2026 that we feel like you need to see. Be warned that it’s not entirely scientific. We asked our regular film critics to name some movies they loved and this is what emerged. Over 100 movies were mentioned at least once; all of these were cited more than once, giving them a place in this annual feature. It’s that simple. Before the films of Cannes start coming out and the fall festival kicks awards season into high gear, try to watch as many of these 20 flicks as you can. You won’t regret it.
“28 Years Later: The Bone Temple“
Despite being a direct follow-up to Danny Boyle’s return to his venerated zombie franchise, “28 Years Later,” “The Bone Temple” operates on a far different, more psychologically nasty register. Nia DaCosta, taking the helm from Boyle, shifts the series’ tone from a dark, melancholic spin on the King Arthur mythos to a gritty, grimy story of the myths and tales mankind retreats into when it sees the end of the world is nigh. It’s still, essentially, the story of Alfie Williams’ innocent Spike, a boy forced to grow up far before his time in a world set to kill him, but “The Bone Temple” turns its focus on the dueling father figures who seem set to shape his destiny.
For Jack O’Connell’s Jimmy Crystal, Spike is but the latest in his fist of Fingers, a cadre of tracksuited, blonde-wigged psychopaths set on a holy mission from Satan (whom Jimmy claims is his daddy) to cleanse the world. For Ralph Fiennes’ Dr. Ian Kelson, Spike’s innocence must be protected, as his own despair at the end of humanity gets complicated by his budding friendship with the hulking, well-hung Alpha Samson (Chi Lewis-Perry). Intercutting between these two narrative roads, DaCosta (and Alex Garland’s script) shows us two distinct reactions to the apocalypse: One raging against the dying of the light, the other embracing the flame.
And she does so with an invigorating, visceral punch at vital moments, including a climactic play-act featuring Dr. Kelson and Iron Maiden’s “The Number of the Beast,” meeting Jimmy Crystal in his own theatrical arena. Even if the rest of the movie were half as good as it is, that sequence alone would justify this film’s inclusion on this list. –Clint Worthington
“All That’s Left of You“
“(I am the sea. In my depths, all treasures dwell.
Have they asked the divers about my pearls?)”
So reads Hafez Ibrahim’s poem that bookends writer-director-star Cherien Dabis’ masterful generation-spanning epic, which centers on one Palestinian family as they grow in love and in pain from the Nakba in 1948, through the early days of the Israeli occupation in the 1970s, the first Intifada in the 1980s, and beyond. A bold act of cinematic defiance, Dabis’ film is a reclamation of history, one that does not dwell solely on trauma but instead finds room for joy, celebration, and unconditional love amongst all the heartbreak and destruction.
Packed with as much emotion and small lived-in moments as it is with historical context, the film follows the story of Sharif (played at different ages by Adam Bakri and his late father Mohammad Bakri) and his family after they are forced to leave their home and orange groves in Jaffa for a refugee camp in 1948. We watch as young Salim (played as a child by Salah El Din and as an adult by Saleh Bakri) grows wary of the weight he carries under occupation, and the burden that has been passed down to his son Noor (Sanad Alkabareti and Muhammad Abed Elrahman), who finds his own path when he decides to join the resistance during the first Intifada.
Dabis’ film reminds us that the key to resistance remains in our steadfast belief in the power of humanity, compassion, and community. –Marya E. Gates
“Billy Preston: That’s the Way God Planned It”
Can a movie lift your heart and break it at practically the same time? This documentary, directed by Paris Barclay, paints a portrait of musician Billy Preston that doesn’t exactly revel in contradiction but appreciates the ways that contradiction can illuminate a life narrative. Billy Preston lived a life full of music and love, and at the same time, one full of shame and hiding. Raised in churches in Texas and California, he could play organ hymns almost as soon as he could reach a keyboard—that is, before he was even ten. Completely self-taught, he had more than perfect pitch. He had an ear that could hear a musical idea and transmit it through the rest of his being…down to his fingers, which would then improve that idea tenfold or more.
His incredible ability and the sunshine of his smile made him fantastic company both musically and socially. This movie shows footage of the Beatles, bored, out of sorts, unable to complete a studio take. In walks Billy, and even the irascible John Lennon is suddenly beaming. Preston and the band had a history: when the Beatles were logging their 10,000 hours in Hamburg, Preston was there, backing Little Richard. The sadder part of his story is his sometimes desperately closeted life as a gay man. Barclay and co-writer Cheo Hodari Coker deftly juggle Preston’s contradictions to put together a moving portrait of a man in full. One whose work still brings a smile and invites you to get up and dance. –Glenn Kenny
“Blue Heron“
Sophy Romvari’s “Blue Heron,” her emotionally seismic feature debut that premiered at Locarno Film Festival, negotiates the tenuous boundaries between reality and imagination, autobiography and fiction, and past and present with unflinching empathy. Its narrative nimbleness acts on such an unconscious level that one can feel their own hand-crafted compartmentalization fade into an unignorable truth.
A coming-of-age story that re-writes many of the genre’s common moves and tropes, the film follows a young Sasha (Eylul Guven) disturbed by her troubled older brother Jeremy (Edik Beddoes). Despite her Hungarian parents’ best efforts, including adhering to flawed psychological advice, no one can quite reach her brother. She, for that matter, also struggles to understand him. Before long, her fraught childhood dissolves into a measured present whose untangling of the past recalls Romvari’s equally thoughtful short “Still Processing.”
Romvari’s spontaneous rhythms, which jump between revealing perspectives, distant memories, and evocative dreams, are boldly combined with her aching want to lend a hand to a loved one who disappeared long ago but whose presence remains palpable. With “Blue Heron,” Romvari is a master of the uncanny. With each of her surprising aesthetic and emotional decisions, she heightens the haunting quality of a film whose ghostly conversations materialize the regret that looms between siblings whose subliminal opposition cannot override the shared fiber of their familial connection. –Robert Daniels
“By Design“
In life, as in the works of Amanda Kramer, human beings exist in a constant state of performance. We shape and reform ourselves to fit the qualities we most want to exude, or to get the kind of response or relationship we want from others. Her latest, “By Design,” literalizes this through the most unconventional of body-swap tales: Juliette Lewis’ disaffected middle-aged woman Camille, overtaken by the beauty of a simple wooden chair, suddenly switches consciousnesses with it. From there, Lewis’ body lies limp as her friends (Robin Tunney, Samantha Mathis) and mother (Betty Buckley) treat her with greater kindness and humanity than she did as a moving being with agency. Meanwhile, Camille-as-chair finds newfound liberation and purpose as the literal love object of a sensitive pianist (Mamoudou Athie), who showers her with devotion in place of the lover who’s just left him.
If that premise sounds bonkers, that’s because it is; but greet it on its level, as Kramer asks you to do with all her presentational parcels (“Give Me Pity!” “Please Baby Please”), and you find a curious, empathetic portrait of the pain and anguish that comes from simply being a person alive in the world. Drawing on 1980s mall catalogs and filled with bursts of theatricality (tap-dancing stalkers, interpretive dance routines around a lifeless Lewis), Kramer builds a kind of surreal stage where we can play with ideas of gender, identity, and purpose through disconnected vignettes that nonetheless touch on tender truths about how we exist for each other—lover, friend, artist, symbol. “By Design” is no different, and maybe one of the most potent distillations of her aesthetic. Existence is rough enough; wouldn’t it be nice to just be furniture for a while? –Clint Worthington
“The Christophers“
Over the course of his career, Steven Soderbergh has made a number of films revolving around heists. While this latest take on the genre may seem rather low-fi in comparison to the likes of “Out of Sight” or the “Ocean’s Eleven” series, it is as enormously engaging and entertaining as those slicker explorations. It tells the story of a once-promising artist (Michaela Coel) hired by the greedy children of an aging and once-renowned painter (Ian McKellan) to take a job as his assistant so that she can surreptitiously access and complete a series of famously unfinished artworks so that they can be “discovered” and sold after his death. This is a clever plan, to be sure, but the old man figures out that something is up fairly quickly and calls her bluff by demanding that she burn the canvases before his eyes.
What happens from this point (roughly 30 minutes in) I leave for you to discover, but the ensuing twists and turns in Ed Solomon’s screenplay are smart and clever; they are hardly the only element of notice. The script offers some deftly handled commentary on both the creative process and the way that contemporary culture has reduced art to just another commodity. These are wonderfully delivered by the two leads, both of whom excel at charting their characters as they find common ground despite their overt differences in race, class, and age. Soderbergh presents the material in a quietly stylish manner that is all the more impressive when you consider that nearly all of the film takes place within the confines of a pair of adjoining ramshackle townhouses.
Coming on the heels of last year’s equally strong “Black Bag,” Soderbergh continues to make a case for the viability of smartly made mid-budget films aimed primarily at adults. While it may not have set the box office on fire, it is a work destined to be rediscovered and appreciated long after the current box-office champions have faded from memory. –Peter Sobczynski
“Crime 101“
There is something enigmatic about Los Angeles that has always made it the perfect playground and backdrop for a cat-and-mouse thriller. Perhaps it’s all the nighttime driving, or the eerie quiet of its garages, strip-mall lots, and street corners, even in broad daylight. With “Crime 101,” writer-director Bart Layton (“American Animals”) seems to have internalized these qualities of the perennially noir-esque City of Angels, as well as the timeless engine that made the greats of that genre run, from “Chinatown” to Michael Mann.
Here, Chris Hemsworth and Mark Ruffalo are an exceptional pair, going toe-to-toe as a methodical criminal of a few words and an old-school detective who might be a tad out of place in the new world, respectively. But the heart of the narrative is Halle Berry as a go-getting insurance broker trying to stay relevant in a deeply sexist business. It’s refreshing to have such a well-made addition to an increasingly neglected type of high-octane ensemble thriller—Layton goes back to the 101-level basics, showing how it’s done. –Tomris Laffly
“Dead Man’s Wire“
Gus Van Sant’s “Dead Man’s Wire” stands proudly alongside his best work. It’s a true crime tale of an Indianapolis man named Tony Kiritsis (Bill Skarsgård) who felt that a local mortgage broker had cheated him in a shopping center development project. He expressed his grievance by taking the manager (Dacre Montgomery) hostage, demanding a monetary settlement plus a public apology from the brokerage’s cold, smug owner (Al Pacino), who happens to be the manager’s dad but shows zero interest in his son’s survival. “Dead Man’s Wire” owes a lot to the late, great director Sidney Lumet, who did his best work in socially conscious urban dramas with a thriller component. This film plays like sort of a combination of two of his classics, “Dog Day Afternoon” and “Network,” wrapped up inside Van Sant’s distinctively loose, subtle, funky aesthetic. Additional kudos to Colman Domingo, who gives great backup as a DJ steered by Indianapolis cops into an on-air parasocial relationship with Tony, as well as to debut screenwriter Adam Kolodny, who wrote “Dead Man’s Wire” while working a day job at the zoo. –Matt Zoller Seitz
“The Drama“
You could make a solid argument that the “worst” character in Kristoffer Borgli’s corrosive and confrontational black comedy isn’t actually the obvious choice. I’m not sure you could win that argument, but the moral ambiguity and the sly subversive undertones in Borgli’s brilliant script at least allow for the possibility.
Act 1 of “The Drama” plays like a slightly edgy but comfortingly formulaic, Boston-set rom-com, with Robert Pattinson’s Charlie and Zendaya’s Emma meeting cute, falling in love, and planning their wedding. (Alana Haim and Mamoudou Athie chime in perfectly as the obligatory wisecracking maid of honor and best man, respectively.) After Emma drops a verbal hand grenade into the mix about an incident from her past, we are plunged into a haunting and disturbing psychological study.
It’s the kind of plot point that would reek of exploitation if not handled correctly. Pattinson and Zendaya are fearless and authentic as a couple, like supercharged electromagnets in the wake of Emma’s confession, while Charlie finds himself terrified yet still committed to the relationship—much to the horror of certain judgmental peers. This is like a prenup version of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” and “Marriage Story.” It’s bruisingly effective. –Richard Roeper
“Erupcja“
Effervescently charming and emotionally propulsive, Pete Ohs’ “Erupcja” locates the intimate, mysterious, and sometimes explosive energies of real human connection within a freewheeling city symphony. Set in Warsaw and shot there in secret during the summer of 2024—amid the cultural phenomenon known as “Brat Summer,” which transformed the lead actress, Charli xcx, from pop music’s best-kept secret into one of its major players—this electrifying melodrama is the product of Ohs’ unusually collaborative method, honed across several independent projects (including the mesmeric, still-undistributed “The True Beauty of Being Bitten by a Tick”). He writes alongside actors throughout production, starting with a half-outline, then scripting the rest on the fly to prioritize continuous exploration and experimentation in the filmmaking process.
The film, which draws its title from the Polish word for “eruption,” picks up as xcx’s 365 party girl Bethany touches down in the Polish capital with her boyfriend Rob (Will Madden). He plans to propose, though Bethany is wary; she has ulterior motives for bringing them to Warsaw, most of which revolve around her friend Nel (Lena Góra), a Polish florist with whom she shares a uniquely combustible, romantically ambiguous chemistry. As Bethany’s eagerness to rekindle this sapphic situationship leaves Nel uneasy, and Rob wanders Warsaw by himself, Ohs’ film illuminates the tectonic emotional shifts at play beneath Bethany’s desire to detonate her own life.
Soaring on sensorial, spontaneous rhythms that are at once the outcome of his creative openness and the result of other artists rallying passionately to his cause, “Erupcja” is about the messy, cathartic process of chasing feelings without heed for where they lead. And, in how restlessly and inventively Ohs and his collaborators pursue their impulses and instincts, it’s also about self-discovery as a profoundly cinematic proposition. –Isaac Feldberg
“Hokum“
The Irish supernatural chiller “Hokum” might as well be called “A Warning to the Incurious,” though writer/director Damian McCarthy tells Rue Morgue’s William J. Wright that he only took “a little bit” of influence from standard-setting ghost story-writer M.R. James.
In “Hokum,” Adam Scott plays Ohm Bauman, a creatively blocked know-it-all skeptic who is ultimately cursed by his false sense of superiority. That’s also the sort of pride that begs for a hard fall in James’s fiction.
Apart from the ghostly presences that may or may not haunt the hotel, Bauman is also repeatedly shown the vital necessity of keeping an open mind, as he’s advised by the alternately suspicious and accommodating staff members of the haunted Bilberry Woods Hotel. That’s not just a good philosophy to cultivate, but a matter of survival for Ohm as he tries to find a missing girl and then an exit from the hotel after its staff leave for the off-season.
To be fair, “Hokum” is as good as it is because McCarthy (“Caveat,” “Oddity”) effectively adapted his previous two features’ foreboding atmosphere and sensuous chills to an even bigger canvas. You might be able to hear James’s influence in Ohm’s agnostic bluster, but the most impressive parts of “Hokum”—especially its rich production design and masterfully layered sound design—are pure McCarthy. –Simon Abrams
“I Love Boosters“
Big swings, bold by nature, are becoming more common, whether a film is studio-backed or independent. Of the 2026 releases so far, the most beautifully audacious big swing thus far is Boots Riley’s “I Love Boosters,” a comedic anti-capitalist adventure flick. Heavily stylized and saturated with bright colors, the film’s costume and set design come together to paint the town red, yellow, blue, green, and polka-dot pink. As with much of our reality, it’s easy to get distracted by funky visuals, but the bones of “I Love Boosters” are thematically complex and reveal the interconnectedness of broader socio-political issues.
This fashion-forward film is perhaps one of the first to comment on the world of fast-fabrication and its ramifications from bottom up, and it notably does so from a global standpoint. Although the plot details get a bit lost in the emphasis on aesthetics, it’s clear Boots is aiming to plant a communist-coded seed for the next generation, one that will bloom into a more equitable, ethical future for all.
Since seeing “I Love Boosters,” the Tune-Yards score has been constantly playing in my mind, turning my capitalistic quotidien into a cartoon. One thing the film makes perfectly clear is that if we have to navigate this mess as a collective, we might as well look good and have fun while doing it. –Cortlyn Kelly
“Is God Is“
It is not often that you see new mythologies get forged before your eyes. Still, Aleshea Harris’ “Is God Is” has all the pulp and grandeur that make it a story worth telling (and a movie worth rewatching) for generations to come. Myths ground us and enable us to tie our stories to larger narratives, and Harris, who adapts her play of the same name, constructs a journey around one of the oldest stories known to humanity: revenge and its prickly aftermath.
On paper, the film has a deceptively simple premise, but like its protagonists, you’d underestimate it at your own peril. Twin sisters Racine (Kara Young) and Anaia (Mallori Johnson) are tasked by their mother, Ruby (Vivica A. Fox)–whom they call “God”–to kill their father (Sterling K. Brown), who burned and horribly disfigured all three of them before fleeing and starting a new life elsewhere. The twins embark on a cross-country journey to slay their draconian patriarch. Their weapon of choice–a sock weighted down with a rock–is not only thematically resonant but also evokes the various other myths and larger-than-life stories Harris’ film is in conversation with. How often do David and Goliath, Cain and Abel, and Sisyphus (to name a few) all sit at the same cinematic dinner table? Yet that’s what Harris accomplishes as a creative and host here.
Indeed, it is the way Harris and her collaborators fill in the contours of this story, from Moses Sumney’s haunting, electric score, Alexander Dynan’s genteel cinematography–soundtracked by artists like Leikeli47, Guillotine, and Tizzle Tay, that gives the film its haunting staying power. This one sticks in the craw as you chew on it. The fact that Harris blends all these elements is a testament not only to her as a director but also to the singularity of her vision, as she harmonizes these multitudes into a brutal, touching odyssey.
For all of its justifiable rage, Harris and her collaborators make space for tenderness as well, evoking the way gardens can grow from pavement. Racine and Anaia often communicate wordlessly, with their conversations appearing as stylized subtitles. It’s a potent touch, a reminder of the divinity of sisterhood and the larger-than-life bonds that connect siblings, even if no words are spoken. Their bond has had to be cultivated in the shadows of shame, but now they get to see the light.
One of the many themes that Harris explores is the ways Black women have had to diminish themselves when around a particular type of chauvinistic Black man, exemplified by Sterling’s character. There’s a suppression of self, a folding into one’s body to appear smaller, that characters like Racine, Anaia, and Ruby have had to embrace to survive. There’s a righteous reclamation to “Is God Is,” which, above all else, feels like a type of sanguinary course correction. It’s the women who can set the terms of engagement now. This is for those who have had to work around and bend to rage and abuse, but can move freely and unabated. –Zachary Lee
“Magellan“
If cinephilia can be said to have “trenches,” then surely watching the films of Filipino critic-turned-filmmaker Lav Diaz is as close to being “in the trenches” as one comes. The many-hour odysseys of Filipino life he captures are festival staples, yes, but they’re still uninviting in form. Some of his works seem essential in the long view of the 21st century, even if the experience of watching his movies is like being left in a sensory deprivation tank. When you emerge, you feel like you’re in the Philippines. Not even Wang Bing so reliably delivers pure, frustrating immersion of this kind.
So imagine the collective shock when Diaz showed up with a biopic of a major historical figure starring a beloved and bankable international star. If “Magellan” is the soft version of Diaz’s ethnohistoriographies, it’s also a refinement of his basic thesis; that time is a mute witness to what it contains.
It’s the vulgar choice, but “Magellan” is Diaz’s best, as by dressing for a wide release, he’s had to prove why his theory of cinema works in the first place, and so elides the moments of most shocking violence in favor of the confusing aftermath. Just as his cinema lapped up the moments forgotten by a global cinema circa-2000s/2010s. The antiheroic Magellan’s destiny is rendered as tableaux of the knight errant out to conquer the world but unable to turn belief into a new reality, a shock to any conquistador. “Magellan” must hilariously be called mainstream cinema, and Diaz is laughing in the opposite direction from the bank. Pair with Simon West’s miniseries on the subject for the major key counterpart or Lisandro Alonso’s “Jauja” for further cosmic blundering. –Scout Tafoya
“Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie“
Matt Johnson and Jay McCarrol’s hit movie has so much of what’s missing from modern comedies, but it’s most notable quality may be how easy one can tell that its stars/creators are simply having a blast making it. There’s an infectious quality to comedy that’s unlike any other genre in that the joy of filmmaking comes through in line delivery, character development, and the sheer exuberance of Johnson’s body language. Of course, part of that is the fact that so much of “Nirvanna” was made guerilla style, without people on the street even knowing they were in a movie, and that’s pretty hard to sell with a frown.
“Nirvanna” also says something about a generation that’s been raised online in its very structure. Johnson and McCarrol use footage of their younger selves from the 2007-2009 web series “Nirvana the Band the Show” to craft a “Back to the Future”-inspired adventure/comedy. Forget de-aging, actors in the future will be able to access hundreds of hours of themselves online.
But “Nirvanna” is no mere technical feat or improvised comedy. It’s a deceptively smart and sweet movie about friendship, ambition, and the creative spark that sometimes dies out as we get older. The movie itself is proof that Johnson and McCarrol have lost none of that passion. If anything, it feels like they’re still just getting started. –Brian Tallerico
“Pillion“
It’s appropriate that “Pillion” begins on Christmas. There’s a wide-eyed sense of wonder to this BDSM fairytale’s early scenes: When meek parking attendant Colin (Harry Melling) sees enigmatic biker Ray (Alexander Skarsgård) for the first time, animals practically gather around the tall, chiseled leather daddy like Snow White in an enchanted forest. But slowly, perhaps inevitably, the magic fades, replaced with hard-won wisdom and the maturity to actually try to love someone, not just worship them.
There are upsides to worship, of course: Scenes where dominant and submissive go for rides on Ray’s motorcycle, Colin’s arms wrapped around Ray’s waist and his head resting on his shoulder, are heady and romantic, like a Shangri-Las song come to life. Where Harry Lighton’s adaptation of Adam Mars-Jones’s novel “Box Hill” gets confrontational is in its bold pairing of this starry-eyed adoration with aggressively sexual scenes like the al fresco free-use orgy Ray throws for Colin’s birthday.
Although Ray and Colin’s relationship does end up being unhealthy, the problem isn’t their BDSM power exchange—it’s the lack of balance in their everyday lives. Like Peter Strickland’s “The Duke of Burgundy,” “Pillion” uses extreme sexual dynamics to explore relationships more broadly, forcing us to consider what love means to us in the process. –Katie Rife
“Project Hail Mary“
“Project Hail Mary” is everything we hope for in a movie, filled with intelligence, humor, heart, and hope. It also has one of the rarest of qualities in a movie: genuine joy. If we are going to spend much of the run-time with one actor, there couldn’t be a better choice than Ryan Gosling, who is a quintessential American boy-you-wish-lived-next-door hero, with self-deprecating humor, and the superpower of the scientist trifecta: boundless curiosity, problem-solving skill, and extensive knowledge of physics and the organic world. Those three qualities overlap and enhance each other. If curiosity is your foundational mode of thought, there is no room for fear. And knowledge, not panicking, helps a lot with problem-solving.
Then there’s Rocky, the most endearing alien since ET. I do this job because in my heart I believe that movies are the culmination of every art form imagined by humans, the greatest storytelling mechanism ever developed. “Project Hail Mary” makes use of every part of that storytelling capacity, a technical marvel, imaginative and entrancing design, all in service of a film that makes us feel good about the characters, about the people who devoted all of their skill to making it, and about being human. –Nell Minow
“Send Help“
One of the greatest cinematic joys in years has been the glorious return of Sam Raimi, proudly strutting back into Hollywood with his first non-IP film since 2009’s “Drag Me to Hell.” Showing absolutely no signs of creative decay, Raimi delivered a piece of pure entertainment, a movie that twists and turns itself around a battle of wills between two characters stranded in the middle of the ocean. Other directors would have taken Damian Shannon and Mark Swift’s wickedly clever script and simply delivered it the form of a predictable streaming thriller, but Raimi made a movie, complete with his undeniable blend of old-fashioned comedy and modern gore. It’s a survival thriller that understands the importance of physicality, which has long been one of Raimi’s strengths.
It helps, of course, to have a pair of performers who completely understood the assignment. Rachel McAdams continues to make the case that she’s the most underrated actress of her generation, as comfortable in horror as she is in drama or comedy. She is absolutely fearless as Linda Liddle, who ends up in the middle of nowhere with her asshole boss, played perfectly by Dylan O’Brien. McAdams and Raimi make so many smart choices here, but one is in how comfortable they are in making us question how much we’re supposed to be rooting for Linda. Is she the hero or the villain? Who cares when a movie is this much fun? –Brian Tallerico
“The Sheep Detectives“
The reason so many critics compared “The Sheep Detectives” to “Babe,” “Knives Out,” and the mysteries of Agatha Christie is that those comparisons were earned. Sure, the elevator pitch sounds absurd and goofy, i.e., a flock of colorful woolen characters investigates the murder of their beloved shepherd, and hey, Hugh Jackman has just the right combination of dashing and crusty to play the shepherd! Yet in the hands of director Kyle Balda and screenwriter Craig Mazin, this becomes a clever, sincere, and at times moving work, with an enormously talented ensemble cast creating a throwback, wholesome adventure that, even with the CGI, feels decidedly and refreshingly old-fashioned. (Saying something is “fun for the whole family” shouldn’t be a turn-off.)
Amid the zany sight gags and the familiar whodunit framework, “The Sheep Detectives” nimbly juggles myriad subplots and backstories about various characters, touching on themes of abandonment, loyalty, and family ties. If anything, the sheep so beautifully voiced by the likes of Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Bryan Cranston have richer and more involving story arcs than the humans. “The Sheep Detectives” ranks with “Babe,” “Charlotte’s Web,” and “Shaun the Sheep Movie” in the top tier of Barnyard Cinema over the last three decades. –Richard Roeper
“Yes!“
Spiritually grotesque by design—and all the more blistering for it—Nadav Lapid’s indictment of Israeli society’s unquenchable bloodthirst and disingenuous procurement of normalcy is a must-see. The filmmaking is high-energy and absurdist, delivering searing truths through outrageousness. A pathetic musician, Y. (Ariel Bronz), hangs around the elite, eager to exchange his dignity for a chance at upward mobility.
His opportunity comes when he’s asked to work on a propaganda song. As he goes about his day, Y.’s cell phone informs him of the atrocities happening just miles away to the people he’s been taught not to see as equals. At one point, he visits the border, where other Israelis have often gathered for a picnic to watch bombs fall on Palestinians.
It’s not so much that Lapid “criticizes” his fellow Israelis, but that he holds up a mirror, through the lucidity that cinema allows, and reflects onto them the abhorrent ideologies accepted in their bubble of complacency. Even if one allows for the belief that some Israelis may oppose the genocide in Palestine, their continued participation in preserving the status quo speaks louder. And that’s where “Yes!” enters, to dismantle the illusion that individual choices hold little weight within a system of horrors. –Carlos Aguilar
- Overlong Summer Romance “Every Year After” Is More Fizzle Than Sizzle (June 10, 2026)
It’s a truth universally acknowledged that summer is a season of romance. Full of long days, lingering sunsets, warm beaches, and often powered by a sense of nostalgia for the freedom and adventure of our younger days, it’s a season when anything seems possible, and the time is always right to fall in love. Or, at least, that’s clearly what Prime Video wants you to think. Hot on the heels of its hit college romance, “Off Campus,” comes “Every Year After,” another eight-part book adaptation that leans hard into many of the most familiar relationship tropes of the genre, all limned in the light of a magical summer sun.
Unfortunately, however, if you’re a romance fan looking for the playful charm of “Off Campus” or even the steamy yearning of “Heated Rivalry,” you won’t find either here. “Every Year After” skews decidedly more romantic drama than lighthearted rom-com, following its characters across two separate timelines as they make objectively ridiculous decisions, refuse to communicate clearly, and obsess about each other for reasons the show never fully bothers to flesh out.
Its dual timeline format means that the show often finds itself stuck in a strange storytelling limbo, with one half of its plot feeling fairly YA in tone, complete with high school-aged characters and typical coming-of-age problems, while the other is distinctly more New Adult, featuring more obviously grown-up concerns all wrapped up in the lingering emotional damage of youth. The two don’t mesh well—particularly because the show bounces back and forth between them so often—and the result is a series that feels weirdly directionless, paying lip service to ideas like character development without actually earning most of its various twists.
Blue Clarke as Young Sam, Juliette Hawk as Young Percy
Based on the book Every Summer After by popular romance author Carley Fortune, the show certainly has the prerequisite seasonal vibes down. Set in the picturesque Canadian town of Barry’s Bay, it positively oozes summer atmosphere, from its glittering lake and lush forests to quaint shops and residences. It’s also the kind of place where everyone knows everyone else, a warm and close-knit community where its residents support each other, but where they’re also fully up to speed on the minutiae of everyone else’s business.
The story follows Persephone “Percy” Fraser (Sadie Soverall), who spends every summer of her teenage years at her family’s cottage in Barry’s Bay, where she befriends her next-door neighbors, brothers Sam (Matt Cornett) and Charlie Florek (Michael Bradway). An awkward, somewhat lonely teen who loves horror movies, the Floreks help bring her out of her shell, particularly her younger brother Sam, who becomes her best friend.
As the summers pass, their relationship deepens and evolves, ultimately blossoming into a (surprisingly cute) romance. Concurrently, the series’s second timeline follows Percy as an adult, as she returns to Barry’s Bay for a memorial service and comes face to face with Sam, now an ex from whom she’s been estranged for the past ten years. How did their relationship fall apart? Who are they to one another now? And is there any hope for a second chance at first love?
Matt Cornett as Sam Florek, Sadie Soverall as Percy Fraser
These are all questions that “Every Year After” attempts to answer by way of an overly convoluted narrative format that winds the two separate timelines through and around each other. Sam and Percy’s youthful romance is intercut with scenes from their later adult lives, as her return to Barry’s Bay stirs up a lot of painful memories, largely surrounding a vague yet constantly referenced terrible mistake Percy once made that seemingly drove her and Sam apart.
Unfortunately, the relationship between Percy and Sam is actually the series’s weakest element. Soverall and Cornett’s damp chemistry never truly catches fire, and the convoluted web of break-ups and betrayals that unfold between them often seems like nothing so much as a fairly cogent argument about why they shouldn’t be together. (Sam seems to be a truly terrible boyfriend a lot of the time.) It also doesn’t help that, beyond a few helpful title cards and the occasional timely needle drop, there is precious little to help delineate where in the pair’s relationship timeline various scenes take place, or how the characters have changed in the gaps between them.
Fortune’s book is a story of regrets, second chances, and coming to terms with your past. Yet this adaptation often skews younger than its source material in ways that don’t really serve the larger story it’s trying to tell. The flashbacks to Percy and Sam’s summers together take place from the pair’s first meeting when they’re just thirteen, all the way to their final summer together at eighteen.
The Sam and Percy of the present-day timeline are grown adults in their thirties, ostensibly meant to have gained some of the perspective that comes with maturity. Yet, while “Every Year After” has plenty of drama and emotional angst, it doesn’t always feel as though the adult Sam and Percy are actually all that different from their high school selves, no matter how much time has passed. (Sam and Percy certainly haven’t learned any lessons about communication; that much is clear.)
Sadie Soverall as Percy Fraser, Aurora Perrineau as Chantal
The show is at its most compelling in its early episodes, which detail the origin story of Percy and Sam’s friendship, a warm and accepting bond that grows stronger in the sunshine alongside the lake. Young actors Juliette Hawk and Carson MacCormac, who play the young teenage versions of Percy and Sam, respectively, are adorably awkward in a way that makes it almost impossible not to root for their romance. Friends-to-lovers is an exceptionally popular trope for a reason, and, at least in its earliest episodes, “Every Year After” works to make their youthful connection feel realistic.
Unfortunately, that same care doesn’t often carry over to the pair’s adult storyline, where character development is in fairly short supply, and we’re forced to rely on exposition to fill in fairly important gaps of feeling and motivation. It’s also entirely too long, with episodes that simply repeat many of the same narrative beats without offering any new information or perspective.
To their credit, the cast tries their best. Soverall, in particular, makes for a compelling lead, and does some excellent work opposite Aurora Perrineau and Abigail Cowen, as Percy’s past and present best friends, who both have problems of their own to work through. And, of course, there’s Barry’s Bay itself, the sparkling locale that seems to reshape and reinvent everyone who steps within its borders, and is practically a character in its own right.
Still, “Every Year After” is a deeply frustrating watch for many reasons, but mostly because it so clearly didn’t have to be this way. There are moments sprinkled throughout the show’s eight episodes that hint at something deeper, richer, and more emotionally complex underneath all the unnecessary narrative flourishes, plot padding, and pacing problems. Should Prime Video choose to adapt the next novel in Fortune’s series, let’s hope the streamer finds a way to let that better version shine.
All eight episodes screened for review. Premieres June 10 on Prime Video.
- “Lego Batman: Legacy of the Dark Knight” is a Joyously Clever Romp (June 10, 2026)
The best Lego game in years dropped last month in “Lego Batman: Legacy of the Dark Knight,” a game that plays like a mix tape of the many iterations of Bruce Wayne and his alter ego that we have seen over the years. Instead of directly mimicking the Christopher Nolan or Tim Burton movies, or riffing off the comic books exclusively, the developers at Traveller’s Tales have created the ultimate Dark Knight mash-up.
There are elements of every single live-action version from Adam West through Robert Pattinson in “Legacy of the Dark Knight,” and these iconic portrayals have been filtered through gameplay that’s designed to recall the mechanics of the wildly popular “Arkham” games. The result is a truly joyous bit of fan service, one that juices the creative gameplay of Lego titles with hardcore-fan-level detail. Almost everything Batman is in here. Yes, even “Batman and Robin.”
At first, “Legacy of the Dark Knight” feels like it’s mimicking the Nolan trilogy, starting with Batman’s origin story and training/tutorial missions with the League of Shadows and Ra’s al Ghul, played by Liam Neeson in “Batman Begins.” As your version of Bruce Wayne navigates Nanda Parbat alongside Talia al Ghul, you’re reminded of the basics of Lego games: Destroy everything, collect studs, customize your characters/locations, and do it again. Combat here echoes the “Arkham” games with a combination of punches, parries, and dodges that you’ll use throughout the game. You’re also introduced early to Batman’s gadgets, which will come in handy in puzzle solving and combat.
And then you get to Gotham, and what felt like a linear Nolan riff becomes an open-world party. Working with Alfred Pennyworth and Jim Gordon to start, Batman learns the lay of the Gotham land, including a mix of story missions and mini-games that are scattered across the landscape like Riddler puzzles, randomly generated crimes a la “Arkham,” trophies/chests to find, and much more. You can spend hours just exploring Gotham, although many of the “side missions” found within the setting do get a bit repetitive early on. There’s an argument that there’s too much to do in the world of “Legacy of the Dark Knight,” but you can always dive back into the story missions when the dozens of icons on your mini-map get overwhelming.
That’s where you’ll find a series of missions, broken up into chapters, that incorporate just about every Batman character that you can think of. The story starts with busting up Carmine Falcone’s criminal empire, which includes defeating the Red Hood Gang and one Oswald Cobblepot, aka The Penguin. In this mission, you’ll meet Selina Kyle/Catwoman, who becomes a playable character with her own gadgets.
Every playable character in “Legacy” has different items that can be used to progress through story missions or might be needed to solve the puzzles scattered across Gotham. Over the course of the game, you’ll end up playing as Batman, Catwoman, Jim Gordon, Robin/Nightwing, Batgirl, and Talia, which might seem like a relatively small roster given how some Lego games thrive on numerous playable characters, but these aren’t just cosmetic swaps. Each one of the playable heroes in “Legacy” feels developed and essential to the overall plot.
As for supporting characters? How about almost all of them? Of course, Alfred and Lucius Fox play key roles, but it’s the way the rogues’ gallery is employed that makes “Legacy” so memorable, from Poison Ivy’s killer plants to Mr. Freeze’s icy lair. You’ll even take a trip to Arkham Asylum, battling enemies notable and minor. You’ll get Bane and Two-Face, but you’ll also have to tackle Condiment King and Kite Man. Bat-Mite runs stores throughout Gotham where you can buy items to personalize the Batcave and even new costumes for your heroes. Just the costumes alone hint at the depth of fan service here as you can play out your childhood fantasies as Batman Beyond, Batman ’66, Batman ’89, The Gray Ghost, or Vampire Batman. There are 43 costumes for Batman alone.
If it all sounds like a bit too much, you’re not entirely wrong. There are times when the excess of “Legacy of the Dark Knight” feels, well, excessive. When it becomes too much, the linear story progression holds together an otherwise chaotic experience. Although one should always remember the target audience for these games: kids and fans. The former love games with this kind of deep customization and an extreme number of collectibles to be found in the open world. They like games they can make their own, using them to express their creativity, which has always been essential to the Lego brand.
And as for the other group, fans of the Dark Knight can’t really complain about anything missing from this release. It’s an exhaustive journey through the legacy of one of comicdom’s most famous characters that manages to incorporate both Batdance and cries of “Martha!” It is playful, clever, and consistently something that (in an era of serious storytelling influencing the form) so many games forget to be: fun.
The Publisher provided a review copy of this title. It is now available on PS5, Xbox Series X/S, Windows, and will be released on Switch 2 on September 18.
- Humor Is a Weapon: A Conversation with John Waters (June 9, 2026)
Alternately known as Baltimore’s Pope of Trash and Prince of Puke, transgressive filmmaker, writer, actor, and artist John Waters is a true American original. Born when Truman was president, and raised in the atomic mid-century Eisenhower era, where rock and rolling teen rebels and anti-communist conservatives collided in a battle for America’s soul, Waters emerged as a paragon of bad taste, combining his love of arthouse and grindhouse cinema into surreal, post-modern film comedies all his own.
All of his early films were made in Baltimore, often in and around his parents’ suburban home, with his troupe of trusty friends and collaborators, known as the Dreamlanders, which included larger-than-life star Divine, as well as regulars like Mink Stole, Cookie Mueller, Edith Massey, David Lochary, Susan Lowe, and Mary Vivian Pearce.
Over the last decade, the Criterion Collection, the distribution company known for its definitive home video editions of “important classic and contemporary films,” has released half a dozen of Waters’ films, including “Multiple Maniacs,” “Female Trouble,” “Pink Flamingos, and “Polyester.”
This month sees the release of two films seemingly on widely different sides of the Waters filmic spectrum: “Desperate Living,” which in the audio commentary Waters calls “a monstrous lesbian fairytale movie about political corruption,” and “Hairspray,” his remarkably family-friendly musical about racial integration that launched the career of Ricki Lake, made Waters a household name, and became such a phenomenon it was adapted both as a Broadway and film musical.
In celebration of these new releases, RogerEbert.com spoke with Waters over Zoom about this unexpected Criterion double feature, why he doesn’t trust anyone who doesn’t have old friends, his storied multi-decade legacy, and how humor saved his life.
Photo credit: Greg Gorman.
I actually sold you movie tickets once upon a time at the Lumiere Theatre in San Francisco.
Oh, I miss that theater. I loved that theater. They played the best movies there, and everything. I always think of it when I ride the cable car, because I live not far from there.
Yeah, it was the greatest sort of rat trap art house to ever exist.
Yeah, it really had good movies. The movies I wanted to see always played there. What was playing?
You saw “The Imposter,” and you said the guy was one sick fuck. I remember that, because I thought, “Wow, he must have been really fucked up.” And you saw Christophe Honoré’s “Beloved.”
I used to go there a lot.
It was a great theater to work at. It had a very, I think, Dreamlander vibe to the crew. We were very scrappy.
And also liked and knew a lot about films. A lot of film buffs worked there.
Oh yeah. I was in film school at the time. It was the best place to work. I talked about more films with them than I did with my film school companions.
You learn more in the movie theaters than you do in class anyway.
I think so. I was reading an interview you did with my friend Juan a couple of years back, and you said that you thought “Desperate Living” would be the very last of your films to make it into the Criterion Collection.
I did, but then I would ask my audience which movie they wanted Criterion to release, and “Desperate Living” won a lot. Susan Arosteguy, who has produced all my movies for all my Criterion releases, was shocked at that. I assumed that “Hairspray” would be a great one to do. But I love the idea they came up with: releasing them together when they’re at opposite ends of the John Waters spectrum.
I thought that was fascinating, too. Then I watched them back-to-back, and they’re both very political films in very different ways.
They are. “Hairspray” was a sneak attack. I love “The Battle of Algiers” more than any movie, so I tried to put that together with “The Wizard of Oz,” and that was what I could come up with for “Desperate Living.”
It was shocking how much fascism, or anti-fascism, is in “Desperate Living.”
Oh my god, Edith Massey, today is torn from the headlines. I wouldn’t be surprised if Trump made us have Backwards Day. We’re living in Backwards Day anyway.
It feels like the White House definitely has more and more in common with the Mortville castle than it should.
There’s a Mortville in every city today. In Los Angeles, everywhere there’s a Mortville now. Many of them on every block in some neighborhoods. What’s so amazing about LA is that’s where it’s the worst is downtown, where most people don’t see it, but when you see it today, it’s block after block. It’s really shocking. It’s beyond Mortville, but no one ever sees it. Mortville was too. It was a hidden community. I got the idea for that film from the Herschell Gordon Lewis movie “Two Thousand Maniacs!” When the people go off the wrong road and end up in a town that’s filled with people who want to kill them.
Hairspray
In your audio commentaries, you often have a lot of different film references and other things that stew in your brain and then become these very singular films. Do you know how that fusion happens in your brain? Or is it just really intuitive for you?
I think it is. I’ve always loved extreme, underground, and exploitation movies, and I put them all together to come up with my genre, but even if you hate it, you have to give it to me. I kind of invented it. I always went to the movies. I still do. I have a 10 best list every year that’s now in New York Magazine.
I always look forward to that.
So, the film references, my audience is smart, they get stuff. My audience is film-smart, and I always say, “If they don’t get something, then do your homework.” Sometimes you have homework when you come to see my movies to figure out what the references are.
You also obviously tap into a lot of your memories, and you do so in your books. They’re very vivid stories that you recall. Do they stay in your brain, or do you write them out? Are you a diarist?
No, I don’t ever keep a diary. It’s just that I’ve had the same friends for fifty years across the four cities I’ve lived in. We stay in touch, and we tell each other tales, certainly. But I have had a pretty crazy life, in a good way. I keep friends. I’ve had many friends for fifty years. I don’t trust people who don’t have old friends. The only thing that’s sad is when I watch “Hairspray” or “Desperate Living.” When we’re restoring it, I think of all the people who aren’t there to be happy that these movies are still remembered and liked more than when they came out.
Desperate Living
I definitely think your films have a timeless quality that I’m sure you weren’t sure they had, but I think the best–
Nobody’s sure. Nobody makes a movie and says, “This is gonna last forever.” The executives who okayed my Hollywood movies, like “Serial Mom,” which is very well thought of today but was a flop when it came out, don’t care if it’s going to be remembered twenty years later. They got fired because it didn’t make money when they greenlit it that year.
Now that you are looking back, especially with each of these Criterion releases, or in talking to new audiences, do you have an idea of why you think your films are amongst the films like “Casablanca” that still–
I would never say that.
I think they speak to audiences in the same way, and those audiences return to them over and over.
Variety had the 100 best comedies ever, and they picked “Pink Flamingos.” It was in there with Buster Keaton and everything. Nobody, except maybe Barbra Streisand, thinks they are making a movie that’s going to be around forever. Nobody thinks that.
Do you have an idea of why your audiences are able to just keep dropping into your films and relating to them equally, or even more so, all these years later?
I think it’s because I’m not mean and I make fun of things that I love, not that I hate. And, at the same time, I make fun of myself. I have humor. I’m not a separatist, I don’t think gay is better than straight, you know. I even have Republican friends, and we all just have to make each other laugh. Humor is a weapon. Humor is how I got through high school without getting beaten up. Humor is how I managed to go to every country and have people like my movies. So, in a way, humor is what saved my life, and that is political, always.
I would agree with that. I also feel like you see the value in people in a way that few people do. For these two films, in particular, you have both Pia Zadora and Liz Renay, who are these women who are, you know, considered maybe a little ridiculous, but if you listen to them speaking… in your interview with Pia from 1985, she’s so well spoken and so sharp, and Liz Renay’s commentary for “Desperate Living” is so insightful.
Pia Zadora had such a crazy story. When “Butterfly” came out, her husband bought her everything. It played at the Berlin Film Festival, where she was roundly roasted, and I stuck up for her. I wrote and said that “Butterfly” is a really amazing movie if you see it. I was just always interested in… life. If you get arrested, I’m the first person who will call you in the morning. If you get a bad review, I’m the first person who will call you. If something horrible happens in your life, I will call you. I think you have to be there for friends.
I think sometimes people who are really amazing, like Pia Zadora or Liz Renay, who is an astounding woman, aren’t recognized right away, and they are made fun of in the beginning because they don’t have the same values as you, and they don’t believe in the same things that you do. But I’m fascinated by other value systems, even bad ones, because I’m amazed by how people think. I love to read the editorials in the Wall Street Journal, because I don’t agree with them, but I like how smart people who don’t agree with me think, too.
That’s a really open-minded way of going about the world that I don’t know most people do.
Well, I do. And then, when I want to read how dumb people think, I read The New York Post, which is a lot of fun.
The New York Post always gets me on Facebook. They’re always serving me these links with outrageous headlines, and I click ’em. I can’t help it.
Yeah, and now we’ve got the California version, too.
Hairspray
California is strange. I grew up in California. It’s very weird to see how its media perception has changed, because I feel like it’s always been kind of a mess.
Well, California has always had very…I mean, I remember The LA Examiner, there was a Hearst paper then that I remember, and I remember The LA Times. Still, I read The LA Times online every day.
I wanted to ask you about another connection between “Hairspray” and “Desperate Living” that I noticed on this re-watch. You mentioned that Chris Mason’s lesbian bar inspired “Desperate Living,” and she also did all the hair on all your films, including the amazing styles in “Hairspray.” I would love to hear a little bit about her.
Well, Chris was something. She was old school and probably would call herself a bull dyke. I mean, she was great. Ricki Lake always said, “God, usually the makeup person is so nice and a motherly figure, and she scared the shit out of me.” But they all loved her, they all really liked her. She was great.
Chris, she had a bar. Well, first of all, there was a really scary bar in Baltimore, a lesbian bar called Port in the Storm, that was so frightening, but I loved it. It was a redneck lesbian bar where the women looked like Johnny Cash. In Baltimore, they still look like Johnny Cash. So she was there, but then she started a bar called Sapphos, and they had a newsletter called Desperate Living, where I got the title.
I was the only man that they would let in there, and it was fascinating. Chris was a feminist, but at the same time, she hung around with straight people, too. She was one of the few lesbians who was a fag hag, too. A lot aren’t, so it was complicated. But Chris was a powerhouse. Her hairdos are so important in that movie, and she did those hairdos in real life, too. She was a beautician in East Baltimore. So that wasn’t an exaggeration. She did those hairdos on people all the time.
I love the story you tell about Pixie, who was rumored to have a cockroach in her hair and was the origin of that urban legend.
She was the main dancer on The Buddy Deane Show. I loved her. She was called Pixie. She was about four feet tall and had a hairdo that was two feet high. She quit the committee without having a last day or anything. And the rumor started all through Baltimore that she died because she had roaches in her hair, because she didn’t wash out the hairspray. It became so real that Buddy Deane had to go back on the air and announce that it wasn’t true. Later, I think she unfortunately had a sad ending with drugs. But she was always one of my favorite girls, Pixie. So I wrote about them in my book, Crackpot, which came from an article I did for Baltimore Magazine about the first big reunion of The Buddy Deane Show years after it happened.
I still go. I still see some of them that are left, and I still hang out with them, and hear the Buddy Deane gossip. They helped train the dancers and the choreographers for “Hairspray.” They very much rooted for “Hairspray.” Buddy Deane was alive when we made it and was just absolutely thrilled to see its success. It was a Baltimore thing that I gave a happy ending to, because in real life, the show went off the air.
They didn’t integrate because the parents just objected. It was all Black music, always, so it was ironic. It was all Black music, but they had a separate Black day. They called it Negro Day, which was not insulting then, and Fat Daddy was the best DJ in town. He did a song called “I’m Fat Daddy, I’m Santa Claus.” That was on my John Waters Christmas album. That is still a classic in Baltimore. I turned him into Motormouth Maybell, who was played by Ruth Brown. It was all based on real life. Amber’s mother was Edna in real life, kind of. I mixed it all up, but it was still based on a lot of truth, completely the truth, just exaggerated, but not much.
I have that Christmas album on vinyl. You have a fun intro on the sleeve. Your writing is always just really dynamic. It doesn’t matter whether you’re writing copy for a vinyl release or a whole book.
Really, that’s what I am, a writer. I write my movies, my books, my screenplays, my shows. I write. That’s what I do every day. I write every morning.
It shows. Your writing is so punchy, and it feels very open. It feels like you’re allowing us to see a little bit of yourself with everything you write, even if it is a three-sentence intro. I saw your Christmas show in Atlanta many years ago, and I have not laughed so hard in a concert venue in my life.
You should come again. I rewrite it every year. It’s always a new show.
I gotta go again.
It’s an endless process, right?
I wonder—
Can we talk about Roger Ebert?
Sure.
It’s a little ironic: I’m doing this interview for the Roger Ebert website because Roger Ebert wrote some of the meanest reviews of my movies ever, but when I’d see him, he’d say, “Hi, John, want to be on my panel?” And I was always so confused. I thought, “Well, I’m a professional, but am I a masochist?” He did one great thing, “Beyond the Valley of the Dolls,” which has one of the most brilliant soundtracks ever. I will say, he gave me a lot of bad reviews with his film criticism. But what did he leave behind? Thumbs up! That’s not enough. And the other one, Gene Siskel, he called me once and said, “John, take me to the set of a snuff movie, I know you know where a snuff movie is.” And he was really serious, and I just started laughing.
I’m trying to figure out how to follow up on that.
Basically, when Rex Reed died—he was the other one that wrote the meanest stuff about me—they could have had a double date.
I feel like critics today are definitely kinder.
Desperate Living
The thing today is, there are no critics who really have power. Roger definitely had power. Rex Reed did, they all did, and I miss the power of the critics because it was exciting to read, and there is no critic who has that much power in it.
Not really. I think it is because the monoculture has dissipated.
It used to be in The New York Times in the old days; if you had a hard film and got a rave review, it was a hit. If you got a bad review, it died. Today, if you get a rave review, it doesn’t mean it’s a hit, but if it’s a bad review, you still die. I miss print ads. I miss when Roger certainly… the whole Russ Meyer connection was so amazing. I wrote about Russ Meyer a lot. In Chicago, “Vixen!” was the biggest hit ever. I was just with Erica Gavin recently. I hadn’t seen her for years, and it was great to see her. She’s the last Russ Meyer girl alive, really.
It’s funny you bring up Russ Meyer, because my friend and I had seen “Hairspray” and “Cry-Baby,” and then her older brother introduced us to “Pink Flamingos” when we were much younger than we probably should have been.
I heard you were eight.
Yeah, that’s true. And I laughed, so what does that say about me? But he’s also the one who showed us “Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!” He had a really good taste in movies.
There’s a really good documentary about Tura Satana, who is no longer alive.
She was another one who had a larger-than-life life. You said you are a writer, you write every day–
I’m not writing tomorrow.
Oh, yeah, weekend. But your films are so visual, and I know from reading your books and some of the old video interviews you’ve done that you are kind of a collage person, too. You keep images. I wondered if that’s something you still do, collecting images and things that inspire you?
I have a board where I put stuff, and I have folders. I have cubby holes and pads everywhere in my house. If I get an idea, I throw it in one. This cubbyhole is for a book; this cubbyhole is for a movie; this cubbyhole is for speech. I gotta write, so I still get five or seven newspapers delivered every day, and I read about ten or fifteen a day. I don’t read every word; I read what I need to get out of it. I still get 100 magazines delivered, but they’re thinner and thinner every time. I can get fifty magazines now that feels like what one used to be. So I still do spend a lot of time with the media, and I don’t hate it. I could have been a journalist, a psychiatrist, or a defense lawyer. Those would have been my three other jobs if I didn’t do whatever it is I do now.
Everyone says you’re very charming in the room, so I feel like you would have been a great defense lawyer.
I would do it to those who did the worst things and were guilty.
I mean, that’s the American right, though, to have a good defense.
It is.
I guess the last thing I wanted to ask you is: with these two films coming out and, a few years ago, the Academy Museum exhibit, how does it feel to see your legacy codified as one of the great American originals? How does that feel?
I’m incredibly proud. I look at it with no irony, and I’m really happy that I’m lucky to live to see that, because often you don’t. So, I’m proud of it, and I thank God that my parents, for once, knew that they weren’t wrong to back my early movies that they were horrified by.
Desperate Living
I love that you filmed in their bedroom. I feel like there’s definitely something there.
I noticed the other day that one of the little quilts that’s in my mother’s room, I think I still have that in my house in Provincetown, right where I am now.
There’s definitely something really handmade about all of your films, even the ones with a bigger budget, and I think it’s because you bring so much of yourself to everything you do.
My friends and I and actors that I really, I know you’re not allowed to, I don’t understand why you can’t say the word actress anymore. Why is that wrong? But I always had, the people that I picked, even the Hollywood people, were people I really respected, and I give them great credit for taking a chance to come with us and do these movies, because it was a chance. They had a good sense of humor about themselves to even do it, and in reality, even if the movies got bad reviews, they didn’t. The critics kind of gave them credit for having the nerve to do it.
I think you are an underrated actor’s director, because you get very specific kinds of performances, which are unique and wonderful, regardless of the subject of the film.
Line reading is the worst thing a director can do, and this year, I put out the audio version of six of my screenplay books. I play every single character.
Oh, wow. Okay, I need to listen to that.
You’re not ever supposed to do that. It’s nine hours long, no one could listen to it, but it did come out this year.
