I get the feeling everyone was just calling it in on this one. The DCCU is getting a makeover under James Gunn and Peter Safran and who knows what will happen given the prospect of the catastrophic leadership of David Zaslav burying his bad decisions and collecting a huge paycheck with a possible sale of Warner-Discovery to Paramount. And Jason Mamoa already made it clear this was his last Aquaman movie. Whether the behind-the-scenes is the reason for this lackluster, derivative entry in the DC Cinematic Universe or not, the movie is a wait-for-streaming for all but the most devoted fans.

In our last episode, Aquaman (Momoa) killed a pirate named Jesse Kane, and his son, David (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) vows to kill Aquaman in revenge. And Aquaman seizes control of the underwater kingdom from his half-brother Orm (Patrick Wilson). An extra scene in the credits has David Kane joining forces with marine scientist Stephen Shin (Randall Park), who promises to help David get his revenge if David will help him find the lost kingdom under the sea.

We pick up a few years later, where, in the first of a series of clangingly obvious foreshadowing signals, Arthur/Aquaman is now married to Mera (Amber Heard) and he tells us the most important thing in the world to him is their baby son, Junior. Aquaman divides his time between his home at the shore, with his human father, Tom (Temuera Morrison) helping to care for Junior, and his undersea kingdom. He is often frustrated with the bureaucracy of the kingdom’s council. And he is very concerned about the land countries destroying the environment, but, with his kingdom’s long history of secrecy, he cannot reach out to the upper world.

David has found the lost kingdom and the source of immense evil power in the black trident. A frozen spirit who looks like a cross between Groot and the Green Goblin says he will give that power to David if he will bring him the descendent of his enemy, which turns out to be guess who.

Actually, it’s guess whos, but that comes later. In order to fight David, Aquaman will have to team up with Orm, the half-brother who tried to kill him, and who is now in prison. The council will never approve, knowing that breaking Orm out of prison will start a war with his captors, but no matter, Aquaman does it anyway.

Much of the storyline is similar to “The Black Panther,” a kingdom with superior technology trying to decide whether to let the rest of the world know who they are and a villain seeking revenge with a conclusion for one character very reminiscent of Killmonger. And the mechanical octopus-like machine seems an awful lot like the one from “The Incredibles.” Topo, the real (CGI) octopus, is, fun, though, and I wish we’d seen more of him. The special effects range from okay to pretty good. Martin Short makes the best of a character who seems like a cross between Jabba the Hutt and a champion from RuPaul’s drag race.

It swings back and forth between meaningless nods to the issue of climate change (the most damaging technology is imaginary), action scenes with lots of monsters and machines, cliche dialog (“It’s time for me to reclaim my destiny!”), and corny winks at the audience. Here’s hoping the Gunn/Safran regime can do better.

NOTE: Stay for one mid-credits scene

Parents should know that this film has some strong language and constant comic book-style action with some grisly images of monsters. Characters are in peril and there are graphic wounds.

Family discussion: What influenced the relationship between Arthur and Orm? How would we think of environmental threats differently if we thought humanoid creatures lived there? Why did Aquaman try to save David?

If you like this, try: the other DC comics films and the comic books, especially the Neal Adams versions

There are moments in “Maestro” that are as stunning and bravura as the works of the brilliant man who is the subject of the film. It is the story of one of the formative figures of 20th century music, composer/conductor/musician/educator Leonard Bernstein. Bradley Cooper co-wrote, directed and stars as Bernstein, whose music provides every note of the score and sometimes commentary on the narrative. Some of his choices work better than others, but every frame of the film reflects his profound immersion in Bernstein’s life and his growing mastery of cinematic storytelling.

It begins with a brilliant introduction to Bernstein as a character and to his story at an early turning point. Bernstein answers the phone. His voice is measured. Someone is ill. He expresses concern. But that means a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and the second he gets off the call his ecstatic jubilation bursts from him as he kisses the man in his bed and races down to the theater, still in his robe. Conductor Bruno Walter is ill and Bernstein will conduct that night’s concert. To call it a triumph is an understatement. It was a sensation. And Cooper the director makes us not just see but feel it.

One of Bernstein’s early compositions was the music for what would become the musical and later Gene Kelly film “On the Town.” Cooper makes a very daring choice by having Bernstein and his date and future wife Felicia Montealegre (Carey Mulligan) attend a rehearsal that becomes something of a dream ballet. The characters interact with the dancers to show us the developing dynamic of their relationship.

In another extraordinary scene, Bernstein and Felicia, now married and middle-aged, are having an argument in their Manhattan apartment. It is staged with a deep understanding of the characters, their deep but sometimes toxic connection, and of how we as the audience take in the setting. Felicia sits by the window, still but furious. Leonard hunches over in a chair, talking quickly, deflecting rather than engaging. Surreally, outside the window, the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade is passing by and in the next room the Bernstein children are calling out to their parents to come see Snoopy. Every detail of pacing, composition, and emotion is superb.

And one more unforgettable scene — Cooper re-enacts Bernstein conducting Mahler’s 2nd that does more than copy the physicality of Bernstein’s version as it was filmed; he inhabits it, showing us the passion, the depth of understanding, and the way Bernstein was able to communicate the most delicate nuance to a huge number of musicians and singers.

This movie is not about Bernstein as the musician and composer. There are documentaries and scholarly analyses and archival clips for that. This is about Felicia and how their relationship reflected his conflicts but made possible his achievements.
This is the story of the marriage of two people who loved each other deeply and loved their children. Felicia knew that Leonard was gay or bi-sexual (as indicated by the “On the Town” scene) before they were married and she was confident that her acceptance would make their connected impenetrable in any meaningful way. But it is much harder than she expected. It is not just about who he is physically attracted to. It is that seduction is as core to him as music. Cooper at times, especially in scenes that re-create archival material like the Edward R. Murrow television interview, seems to be replicating Bernstein. But in much of the film, especially those moments when he is thrilled by someone new, we see it is all of one piece with his furious engagement with music, with creative partners, with romantic partners, with his children and his environment — to him, with all of life.

Parents should know that this film has extended mature material including sexual references and situations, very strong language, drinking, constant smoking, tense emotional confrontations, serious illness, and a sad death.

Family discussion: What should Leonard have said to his daughter? What held Leonard and Felicia together? Do you have a favorite of his compositions?

If you like this, try: Bernstein’s music in “Candide,” “On the Town,” and “West Side Story” and his wonderful Young People’s Concerts. And learn more about the years of study that went into this performance.

“American Fiction,” from first-time writer/director Cord Jefferson and based on the 2001 novel Erasure, by Percival Everett, is a biting satire of just about every aspect of American life, especially academia, publishing, and racism. It is also a heartfelt story about family connections and the conflicts that strain them. It is provocative, funny, and searingly smart. In my opinion, it is the best film of the year.

What’s remarkable is that Everett’s story is even more timely now than it was 22 years ago. Indeed, life imitates art, as Jefferson has spoken about how this story about a frustrated Black academic writes a satiric take-down of the kinds of Black representation that pander to white audiences had the same kind of difficulty getting this film made that the fictional professor had in finding a publisher for his book about classical Greek literature.

That professor, like the man who created him, has a literary name. He is Thelonious Ellison, nicknamed “Monk” after the musician Thelonius Monk. He likes to think of himself as living in a non-racial or post-racial world. He feigns ignorance when his class objects to his writing the title of a Flannery O’Connor story that includes the n-word on the blackboard, and frustrated when he gets in trouble for it. It infuriates Monk that his books about classical literature are shelved with Black books. It infuriates him even more when his agent, Arthur (a terrific John Ortiz of “Silver Linings Playbook” and “Ad Astra”) tells him publishers want him to write a “Black book.” “It is a Black book! I’m Black and it’s a book!” Monk says.

Monk’s relationship with his family is strained. His sister Lisa (Tracee Ellis Ross) is a doctor, exhausted from the stress of her job and caring for their mother, Agnes (Leslie Uggams), who is experiencing cognitive decline. His brother Clifford (Sterling K. Brown), also a doctor, is dealing with his own domestic upheaval as he wife left him after she found him having sex with a man. After a shocking loss, Monk has to take responsibility for Agnes, and he needs money.

Impetuously, Monk quickly bangs out a book he titles My Pathology. No, he corrects it, or un-corrects it, My Pafology, presumably a first-person narrative by a gang member and drug dealer known as Stagg R. Leigh (the name inspired y the 19th century pimp described in the classic song). The book is immediately snapped up by thrilled white editors at a top publishing house who chirp at him that they hope to get it out by Juneteenth. And then a white Hollywood director is interested.

Monk, his mother, and the family’s long-time housekeeper Lorraine (Myra Lucretia Taylor) visit the family’s vacation home on the water, and Monk meets the woman who owns the house across the street, a lawyer named Coraline (Erika Alexander). The film, like Monk’s book, has a heightened tone, but Alexander’s Coraline brings a grounding reality to the story as both the heart and the moral center. A scene with Coraline, Monk, and Clifford is one of the highlights of a consistently outstanding film.

Indeed, every performance is superb and Jefferson’s exceptional control of tone somehow makes the heightened portions and the more realistic elements work seamlessly together. Another outstanding scene has Monk talking to Sintara Golden (Issa Rae) as a sophisticated author whose “poverty porn” book, We’s Lives In Da Ghetto is a critical and commercial success. Taylor makes the loyal family retainer role fully complex, and we are grateful to see that the screenplay gives her a chance to have her own life and dreams.

This is a movie that cares about all of its characters and about the pernicious effects of racism, including the unacknowledged racism of people who consider themselves free from bigotry. Jefferson knows the hardest truths reach us through humor, and this movie is filled with wonderfully funny moments. It is only later that we realize just how compelling its messages are.

Parents should know that this film has constant strong language, sexual references, drinking and drugs and a fictional drug dealer, and a brief scene of graphic violence.

Family discussion: Which book of Monk’s would you want to read? Do you agree with Coraline about not judging people on their worst day?

If you like this, try: “Dear White People” and Percival Everett’s books. And for a real-life conversation about these issues, see the Jay-Z documentary, “Fade to Black.” As I wrote about it in my book 101 Must-See Movie Moments:

Backstage, aspiring young performers talk about the conflict they feel knowing that in order to be successful they must pander to stereotypes about “gangstas” instead of addressing a wider range of issues or exploring their own experiences and feelings.
Jay-Z begins by saying that he thinks the violence and drug problems of the inner city are not as bad as they were when he was younger and that it takes people speaking out against it to make a difference. But, he says, it is not his style to do so. “You’re not that type of rapper,” one of his friends agrees. “For two lines out of a 60-minute tape,” he says, “for 30 seconds, I felt like saying something, to speak on what’s going on in the hood, should I not do that? Should I ignore those feelings?”

Young hip-hop artists who want to be as successful as Jay-Z then talk about their conflicts. “You rapping on shooting and killing people,” Jay-Z says to one of them. “They the one who buy it. That’s what people want to hear,” the other responds. “Truthfully, it’s whack. I’ve been feeling that way, too. I don’t be wanting to do that. It seems that sometimes that’s all the n*** want to hear.” Another one advises him to “be you,” asking “Why would you write a rhyme that you don’t want to write?” But he does not think his music will sell if he tries something different, even if it is more honest.

Jay-Z tells the documentary cameraman to focus on him so he can speak directly to us in the audience. “See what you, the public, did to rappers? They scared to be theyselves. N*** don’t think that people gonna accept them as theyself.”

It is as powerful and telling a moment about art, mortality, culture, and identity as has ever been filmed.

“Wonka” is the origin story of everyone’s favorite fictional chocolatier, the central figure in Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator. Anyone who ever wondered how Willy Wonka got started, how he developed his incomparably delicious and deliciously magical candies, built a factory, and met the Oompa-Loompas, will find all of that here and more. As we might expect from the people behind the Paddington films, it is brimming with whimsy, charm, and heart, and that is movie magic. The production design, by Nathan Crowley (“Interstellar,” “The Dark Knight”) is wonderfully intricate and tactile, mixing Dickensian touches and Rube Goldberg fancifulness. It just about qualifies as a world of pure imagination.

Timothee Chalet plays the young Wonka, who grew up on a boat with his mother (Sally Hawkins), a brilliant chocolatier who experimented with recipes as they visited exotic locations. As the movie begins, she has died, and he has come to a big European city (touches of London, Paris, and Vienna) to share his chocolates with the world.

Things go badly. His chocolates have people floating on air. Literally. But the three chocolate CEOs who control the market do not want the competition and they bribe a chocolate-loving local cop (Keegan-Michael Key) to keep him from selling his chocolate (yes, families will get a little introduction to cartels and the importance of enforcing antitrust law). And Wonka ignores the advice to read the fine print before signing a contract (more worthwhile legal advice for families) for a night’s stay at a local inn run by the Dickensian-ishly named Mrs. Scrubbit (Olivia Colman). It turns out he signed away his services for her laundry, along with an orphan child named Noodle (Calah Lane) and several other colorful characters. He is a prisoner and it looks like he will be stuck for decades.

But Wonka is nothing if not optimistic and enterprising. He has a solution to the problem of the endless piles of laundry that gives him a chance to escape for until Mrs. Scrubbit’s daily check. Noodle becomes his sidekick as he continues to try to create and sell chocolates.

The Wonka in the original book and movie is not a nice person. Children enjoy his wicked streak, taking pleasure in the outrageous consequences for the young visitor who ignore his warnings. And even those who still love the movie are generally in agreement that what happens to Mike, Veruca, and Augustus is pretty drastic. In this film, a character does suffer consequences of his gluttony to an extent that feels like too much for the world they have created. This Wonka is not just younger but sweeter than the one we know. He takes a stand against stealing and faces some consequences for a thoughtless taking of some (but not all) of the candy ingredients he collects.

Chalamet is just right in the role, and he has great chemistry with Hugh Grant(!) as the Oompa-Loompa (with what is probably the only funny joke about economy plus travel in history). Like Paddington, Wonka brings out the best in the people around him, and in the delighted audience, too.

Parents should know that this film has a sad offscreen death of a parent, a child and adults held captive, fantasy-style violence (Wonka’s face pushed into water, bonked on the head), and some mild language.

Family discussion: What makes Willy Wonka good at solving problems? What is your favorite kind of chocolate and what Wonka treat do you wish you could try?

If you like this, try: The Roald Dahl books and the Gene Wilder movie

Hallmark has justifiably been criticized for its all-white, all-Christmas winter holiday movies, and then it was justifiably criticized for its first attempts at a Hanukkah movies, with problems that ranged from insensitivity and ignorance to outright failures (captioning describing a Hebrew prayer as Yiddish, for example).

But “Round and Round,” written by Tamar Laddy of “Pretty Little Lies” is one of the best Hallmark movies ever, smart, funny, and romantic, with terrific chemistry between stars Vic Michaelis and Bryan Greenberg. The “Groundhog Day” story of a woman who gets stuck repeating the seventh night of Hanukkah is delightfully self-aware, with clever references to other time loop films and cultural touchstones. And the details of Hanukkah celebrations are grounded in experience and appreciation.

Highly recommended!