MINI MOVIE REVIEWS 2026—PART II

I had to pause my pre-Golden Globes movie-viewing last month because the films were all so depressing that I felt my soul being squashed down!!!

So now that I’ve had a bit of a breather, I had to dive back into them so I can vote fairly for the upcoming Actor Awards, which is the new name for the SAGs this year. (Kind-of a stupid/pretentious change, I know.)

But at least it gives me the chance to steer you guys in the right directions. So here is my second batch of Mini Movie Reviews of the 2026 films, most of which have at least one nomination for someone or something in one awards-bestowing organization or another. (If you missed the first bunch, you can still read about them here: itsnotaboutme.tv/news/movie-reviews-mini-movie-reviews-2026-part-i.)

As I did in Part I, I’m summing each one up with one word, followed by a few brief (for me) thoughts in specific. I’ll go worst, (and I do mean worst,) to first this time.

Sinners—Weird. And horrible.

This is truly one of the worst movies I’ve ever seen! It’s like one veeeery long SNL skit—a mashup of an old-time Southern black experience story and…vampires. To paraphrase Trevor Noah’s every-few-seconds dramatic queries while hosting the recent Grammys—Are they kidding me?

For those who have been fortunate enough to have missed this one—I’m not exaggerating. Sinners is a horror vampire story taking place in the very racist south, (Mississippi, to be exact,) in 1932!!! Who thought of this??? It actually makes Frankenstein look like a comedy!

I noticed in the credits that the company had an “Emotional Wellness Coordinator” listed. Yeah, they needed one…just for the audience!!! Me in particular. Because of all the graphic sex talk, (and an act or two, as well,) this is not appropriate for young people. Or me! (Oh no—I just also noticed that Sinners is also being presented on IMAX! So it does get worse!)

I’m sure the story was meant as an allegory or metaphor for something, but its meaning escapes me. And I don’t want to spend any more time on it.

And there’s a dance an hour in that is one of the stupidest things I’ve seen in film. The jumping to the future, totally out of context, would usually have bothered me, but at that point, I just really didn’t care at all. But the scene is worse than even my worst dance club night! And that’s sayin’ somethin’.

I don’t know the exact politically correct way to state this next sentiment, but I feel all those Oscar nods, (a record-setting sixteen,) are to make-up for all the years that movie awards, specially the Oscars, have been considered “so white.” (Remember the social media movement, declaring “#OscarsSoWhite”? It’s been going on for eleven years now!) I don’t agree with either situation—works should be judged solely on their merit, not their race, not the reputations of the people involved, (such as white director Paul Thomas Anderson, whose film this year, One Battle After Another, is almost as dreadful as this one, yet it keeps winning awards, as well.)

If I Had Legs I’d Kick You—Waste-of-time.

This one is actually a supreme waste of time. Except that Rose Byrne is great, and is such a pretty woman.

The extreme close-ups are sooooo annoying! The whole time, I felt like they were doing that Martin Short 60 Minutes spoof from SNL.

And what’s up with the silly ultra-long title??? I had assumed it was about the struggles of a woman in a wheelchair. No lie. (I still have no idea what’s up with that title.)

And how is this even close to being a comedy??? I think nominating committees don’t know the definition of “comedy.”

I’ve read all kinds of artistic excuses as to why the young, sick daughter is never shown, but I say it’s because the producers knew better than to exploit an emancipated child. You can fake sickly-looking on film, but not anorexic-being. (They never explain the kid’s malady, but she needs a feeding tube, and doesn’t eat otherwise, and the doctor keeps saying she has to gain weight, so it can’t be anything simple.)

Blue Moon—Interesting-yet-boring.

This story of one night in the life of old school Broadway lyricist Lorenz Hart is semi-true, possibly enough.

I haven’t seen Ethan Hawke in anything, (that I can remember, anyway,)* but he’s really excellent in this one, playing Hart. He has to carry the entire film, doing practically a ninety-minute monologue! (Who does he think he is—me???) *[Note: After I wrote this article, I researched Hawke’s films. And out of his four decades of constant movie-making, I’ve seen only 1999’s Snow Falling On Cedars and 2001’s Training Day. And I don’t even remember him in either!]

But, as good as he is, he totally reminded me of Andy Cohen on New Year’s Eve. (If Anderson Cooper had played the bartender, everyone would see the comparison.)

Blue Moon really seems like more of a play than a movie. So I assumed it had already been, but the answer is no, it has not. But if it ever is produced as such, it cannot star Ethan Hawke. And that’s not because he’s a movie star, or too busy, or hates doing live shows, or is just not interested, but rather due to the fact that he’s normal height! Hart was 4’11”! (I dare you to find more than a couple of photos of him standing next to anyone!) Movie magic made Hawke look diminutive, but that cannot be done on stage. This just might be a vehicle for the talented Peter Dinklage, though!

Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery—Tedious.

This was the only current movie, (in the Fall, when awards season began,) I had even a drop of interest in seeing because it was a whodunit from the Knives Out franchise. But even it was a disappointment.

And it’s not nominated for anything, so I should have just passed.

In all three of the Knives Out movies, I’ve felt that Daniel Craig is thinking how good he is at being an (unnecessarily) Southern detective. And he is actually not. Good at it, that is.

Marty Supreme—Good!

Even though this is the longest of the bunch, it’s the most entertaining. And it’s a normal sort-of film, which I like better. We can basically follow it, and the action is linear, which makes it more enjoyable.

However, (and this is a major “but,”) almost none of the story is true, even though it’s about a real-life ping-pong champion from back in the day! If you read enough materials on it, you’ll discover that the creatives refer to the story as “a fictionalized original,” saying it’s not meant to be a biopic. But most viewers won’t research the topic, as I incessantly do, for just about everything. So the writers and producers are doing an injustice to not only the subject, (the late Marty Reisman in real life,) and his family and friends, but to the movie-going public! And to history!

But there are two very impressive aspects of Marty Supreme. One is that Timothee Chalamet is actually doing the complex ping-pong playing! He trained for years for it! So good for him. He’s a tough kid.

The other is that even my critical-of-looks self believed that Timothee’s bad skin in the film is real! (But, sadly, his bad teeth are.) I read that even Gwyneth Paltrow, with whom he has sex in a few scenes, (meaning that she saw his skin as up-close as one can,) was fooled—she advised him what to do to get rid of acne!

But, very annoyingly, there is sooo much weird stunt casting! None are necessary, especially creepy Fran Drescher, (as Marty’s mother,) and also-creepy Sandra Bernard, (as her caregiver or something,) except that those two characters are also creepy. (or it actually might just be that the actors personalities come through!) And although the man from Shark Tank, (Kevin O’Leary,) is perfectly despicable as his character, (as he appears to be in real life,) I hate it when actors lose jobs to non-actors.  It reminded me of a small confrontation I had over a dozen years ago with a famous director on his same decision of hiring non-actors. So, now that I’m at the end of this set of Mini Movie Reviews,) here’s that intense personal story:

After seeing Reitman’s Up In The Air in a Screen Actors Guild screening, (which means we were all actors and our guests,) star George Clooney and director Jason Reitman were doing a Q-and-A with the audience. Jason was proudly boasting that, instead of actors, he had used many “real people,” as he put it, who had been fired in real life, as the fire-ees in the film. But he was bragging about that to a theatre full of actors!

Even though I never participate in these post-screening Q-and-As, I very bravely (and nicely) asked him, “Don’t you feel a little funny to announce to a room full of mainly unemployed actors that you hired so many non-actors instead of us???” He obnoxiously answered that he wouldn’t have gotten the lines that these real-life fire-ees came up with had he used actors. I was dying to chime in again and ask if he didn’t know that half of us do improv and may have come up with something even better! Or that most of us have been fired in our lives, most likely even from acting jobs!!! We know the experience more than most!

Reitman didn’t even want to answer me to begin with, but George Clooney made him, saying, “Wait now–the girl deserves an answer.” I’m just glad that he saw me as still young-looking enough to be categorized as a girl!

You can read my final-for-the-season batch of Mini Movie Reviews after the Olympics, when I will force myself to watch the rest of the nominees.