31 Days of Horror: Freddy vs. Jason(2003) — The Ultimate Slasher Showdown

Reelscope’s 31 Days of Horror

Freddy vs Jason

Directed by: Ronny Yu

Written by: Damian Shannon, Mark Swift

Starring: Monica Keena, Kelly Rowland, Jason Ritter, Lochlyn Munro, Robert Englund, Evangeline Lilly

Release Date: August 15, 2003

Two horror icons finally collide in Freddy vs. Jason, a blood-soaked, crowd-pleasing crossover that delivers everything fans had been dreaming of — even if logic and acting take a backseat to carnage.

When Horror Dreams Finally Came True

The few who stayed to the bitter end of the dreadful Friday the 13th: Jason Goes to Hell were rewarded with a tease for the ages — Jason’s hockey mask being dragged into the ground by Freddy Krueger’s clawed glove.

That fleeting image ignited a decade of anticipation. Fans had long imagined what would happen if these two horror legends collided. When New Line Cinema — home to Freddy — gained control of Jason Voorhees, the dream became possible.

Ten years later, under the gleefully stylish direction of Ronny Yu, Freddy vs. Jason finally brought that fantasy to life. And for gorehounds, it was everything they’d hoped for and more.

Freddy’s Plan: How to Resurrect a Nightmare

It’s been years since the residents of Springwood last feared Freddy Krueger. Through a mix of parental silence and dream-suppressing drugs, the Elm Street kids have forgotten him — robbing Freddy of his power.

Never one to accept defeat, Freddy searches the pits of Hell for a way to return. His plan? Manipulate Jason Voorhees into killing on Elm Street, reigniting fear — and therefore, Freddy’s strength.

Back to Elm Street: Another Family, Another Bloodbath

On Elm Street, the unlucky Campbell family has just moved into the infamous Krueger house. Teenage daughter Lori (Monica Keena) invites her friends Kia (Kelly Rowland) and Gibb (Katherine Isabelle) over for the weekend — and, naturally, the night doesn’t end quietly.

When Gibb’s boyfriend and his buddy crash the party, Jason makes his grand entrance with one of the movie’s most memorable kills — a brutal, darkly comic moment fans lovingly call the Craftmatic Adjustable Bed scene.

From there, the slaughter doesn’t stop. Jason racks up a considerable body count, much to Freddy’s frustration. After all, Elm Street’s dream demon doesn’t like to share his victims.

Blood, Mayhem, and Two Icons Collide

Buckets of blood spill across both worlds — beheadings, impalements, twisted necks, crushed skulls. It’s gleefully excessive, as it should be. And when Freddy and Jason finally meet, their battle becomes a symphony of splatter.

For two undead killers, they sure bleed a lot.

The special effects are top-tier compared to earlier franchise entries, thanks to production designer John Willett, art director Ross Dempster, and a dedicated team of effects artists. But the real stars are Freddy and Jason themselves.

Robert Englund brings his trademark wit and menace to Freddy, while Ken Kirzinger — replacing Kane Hodder as Jason — gives the silent killer a surprisingly sympathetic presence (or at least as sympathetic as a hulking zombie in a hockey mask can be).

Ronny Yu’s Vision: A Stylish, Bloody Mash-Up

Director Ronny Yu, known for his cult Hong Kong horror hit The Bride with White Hair, gives the crossover a bold, kinetic energy. His mix of dark humor, stylized lighting, and reverence for horror history make Freddy vs. Jason feel like more than a cash-grab sequel.

Yu respects both franchises’ legacies while creating something that feels fresh — a rare feat for either series by this point.

Forget Logic. Remember the Fun.

Sure, the acting is shaky and the script has holes you could drive a machete through. But Freddy vs. Jason doesn’t need perfection — it needs chaos, gore, and fan service.

And on that front, it absolutely delivers.

For fans who grew up worshipping both franchises, Freddy vs. Jason remains the ultimate horror fantasy fulfilled — a showdown that embraces the absurdity of its premise and bathes it in blood.

It’s not just a crossover. It’s a celebration of everything we love about slashers.

Anemone(2025) — Daniel Day-Lewis Returns with Raw Power

Anemone

Directed by: Ronan Day-Lewis

Written by: Daniel Day-Lewis, Ronan Day-Lewis

Starring: Daniel Day-Lewis, Sean Bean, Samantha Morton

Release Date: October 3rd, 2025

Rating: ★★★★☆

Daniel Day-Lewis returns to the screen in Anemone, a powerful drama of brotherhood, trauma, and emotional reckoning. Read Reelscope’s Catch-Up 2025 review exploring his intense comeback performance alongside Sean Bean and Samantha Morton.

The Return of Daniel Day-Lewis

If anyone doubted that Daniel Day-Lewis had lost his love for acting — or the fiery passion that made him one of cinema’s greatest performers — Anemonedispels that thought within minutes. One unbroken gaze from Day-Lewis to his co-star Sean Bean is enough to remind audiences just how locked in he can be. The passion, the precision, and the quiet devastation are all still there as he confronts trauma, family history, and undiagnosed PTSD in a film that feels both intimate and haunting.

A Cabin in the Woods and the Ghosts Within

Anemone unfolds at a cabin on the border between England and Ireland. The woods are deep, silent, and isolating — home to Ray Stoker (Day-Lewis), a man who’s long ago chosen solitude over society. His life of cutting wood and listening to a battered old radio is disrupted when his estranged brother Jem (Sean Bean) arrives unannounced.

Neither brother says much at first, but through silence and small gestures, we feel the decades of resentment, guilt, and pain between them. We soon learn Jem’s visit has purpose: Ray’s estranged son — whom Jem raised with Ray’s former wife (Samantha Morton) — is in crisis. Jem believes only Ray can reach him before tragedy strikes.

Brothers, Trauma, and Masculinity

Ronan Day-Lewis’s direction keeps the focus tight — two men trapped by their past, surrounded by woods that feel like an extension of their minds. The conversations that unfold over a few days are tense, raw, and uncomfortably real.

Ray is a man raised in violence and silence — where emotion was weakness and trauma was buried under work and war. He’s lived by the belief that pain is best endured, not shared. Jem’s visit forces those walls to crack, and though Anemone doesn’t force catharsis, it leads us right to its threshold.

The film’s final image — an open doorway — invites us to decide whether Ray will finally step forward or remain trapped in the past. It’s an ending that feels both haunting and hopeful.

A Meta Edge: Sean Bean and the Power of Expectation

There’s a fascinating meta tension in seeing Sean Bean play Jem. Known for dying in many of his most famous roles, Bean carries an unspoken sense of danger into every frame. When the camera lingers on Day-Lewis chopping wood with an ax, it’s hard not to imagine violence lurking beneath their reunion. The movie never indulges this possibility — but it adds a layer of suspense that heightens the unease of their fragile peace.

Daniel Day-Lewis, Unmatched

Day-Lewis remains one of the few actors who can make silence feel symphonic. A late monologue — delivered with stomach-churning imagery and gut-wrenching honesty — cements why his return matters. In lesser hands, it might have tipped into shock or melodrama. Instead, it becomes a moment of pure, painful truth.

Sean Bean gives one of his best performances in years, grounding Jem’s guilt and compassion in subtlety. Samantha Morton, in limited screen time, provides the emotional anchor that ties the entire family’s pain together.

A Confident Directorial Debut

Ronan Day-Lewis’s direction is understated and confident. For his first feature, he resists any temptation to over-style the material. His camera lingers in the right places, capturing faces rather than landscapes, though the cinematography still finds haunting beauty in foggy woods and the lonely gray of a coastal beach.

It’s a debut that suggests both respect for performance and confidence in mood. He knows the story doesn’t need embellishment — it only needs truth.

Final Thoughts

Anemone is an emotional excavation of masculinity, guilt, and generational trauma, powered by a magnetic Daniel Day-Lewis performance. Whether this is a brief return or the start of a new chapter, it’s proof that his craft — and his fire — remain undiminished.

31 Days of Horror: Night of the Virgin(2016) — The Gross-Out Masterpiece That Will Make You Gag and Cheer

Night of the Virgin

Directed by: Roberto San Sebastián

Written by: Guillermo Guerrero and Roberto San Sebastián

Starring: Javier Bódalo, Miriam Martín

Release Date: December 31, 2016 (Spain)

Night of the Virgin (2016) is one of the most disgusting, hilarious, and strangely profound horror comedies of the 21st century — a Spanish shocker that mixes David Cronenberg’s body horror with David Lynch’s surreal madness.

When a Gross-Out Becomes Art

Night of the Virgin turned my stomach — and I loved every minute of it.

That may sound like a backhanded compliment, but it’s anything but. This Spanish import from director Roberto San Sebastián is hysterically funny and deeply disturbing, packed with grotesque imagery, razor-sharp satire, and a surprising depth about male sexuality, fear, and shame.

The film follows Nico (Javier Bódalo), a sad, awkward young man spending New Year’s Eve alone and desperate for a hookup. He meets Medea (Miriam Martín), an older woman who invites him back to her filthy apartment for what seems like a pity encounter. But Medea harbors a terrifying secret — she’s part of a bizarre fertility cult, and Nico’s virginity is the key ingredient in a ritual that will scar your brain forever.

Cronenberg, Lynch, and Kafka Walk Into a Bar…

Explaining what happens in Night of the Virgin is nearly impossible without spoiling its shocks, but let’s just say that Medea’s apartment is a horror show only Eraserhead would find cozy. The film’s influences are clear: Cronenberg’s obsession with flesh, Lynch’s surreal dread, and Kafka’s nightmarish absurdity.

San Sebastián doesn’t shy away from filth, bodily fluids, and writhing organic horror. Yet there’s a strange elegance to the chaos. The camerawork, lighting, and pacing elevate the gross-out to something artful. It’s grotesque, but it’s never lazy. Every puddle of blood and every crawling roach feels like it’s there for a reason.

A Two-Character Descent Into Hell

The film mostly takes place in one location — Medea’s crumbling apartment — which becomes its own organism. The claustrophobic set traps Nico and the audience alike in an increasingly unhinged night of terror and black comedy.

Early on, you think you’re watching a story about a naive man being lured into a deadly ritual — but Night of the Virgin constantly twists expectations. What begins as a dark sexual farce becomes a full-blown nightmare that keeps topping itself with new levels of depravity and invention.

The Grotesque, the Funny, and the Fear of Sex

The brilliance of Night of the Virgin lies in its tone. It’s genuinely hilarious — not despite the horror, but because of it. The film mines awkward male insecurity for huge, uncomfortable laughs. Nico’s immaturity and sexual anxiety collide with Medea’s desperate, decaying seduction in ways that are both deeply funny and horrifying.

The movie plays like a fever dream of male fear — fear of women, of sex, of aging, of inadequacy. The result is an explosion of bodily fluids and existential dread.

The Art of the Gross-Out

Be warned: this movie is really gross.

But it’s not cheap gross. It’s inspired gross. San Sebastián turns viscera into visual poetry. The blood, the slime, the stench — all of it feels oddly deliberate, a metaphor for the anxieties at the film’s core.

The pregnancy sequence in particular — a scene that rivals Cronenberg’s The Fly for sheer body horror brilliance — is almost unbearable to watch, yet impossible to look away from. It’s shocking, yes, but also weirdly moving in its depiction of pain, birth, and transformation.

Final Thoughts

Night of the Virgin is a film for those who think they’ve seen it all — and want to be proven wrong. It’s stomach-churning, shocking, and absolutely hilarious in its willingness to push every possible boundary.

Director Roberto San Sebastián isn’t just trying to disgust you — he’s daring you to see the artistry in disgust. The result is a film that’s as daring as it is deranged, as funny as it is revolting.

Not for the squeamish, but essential viewing for anyone who believes horror should challenge, confront, and redefine what cinema can do.

Verdict

4.5 out of 5 — A disgusting masterpiece of dark comedy and body horror.

31 Days of Horror: The Crazies (2010) — When the Familiar Gets Smart

The Crazies (2010)

Directed by: Breck Eisner

Written by: Scott Kosar

Starring: Timothy Olyphant, Radha Mitchell, Joe Anderson

Release Date: February 26, 2010

Breck Eisner’s The Crazies (2010) reimagines George A. Romero’s infection thriller with sharp pacing, eerie atmosphere, and Timothy Olyphant’s natural swagger. A rare horror remake that gets it right.

A Remake That Gets It Right

In a world of been-there-done-that horror remakes, sometimes the best a filmmaker can do is simply do it better. That’s exactly what director Breck Eisner accomplishes with The Crazies (2010), his stylish, fast-paced remake of George A. Romero’s 1973 infection thriller.

Eisner takes familiar beats from films like 28 Days Later and Resident Evil, blending them with Romero’s small-town paranoia to create something surprisingly effective. The result is a smart, atmospheric, and genuinely tense film that manages to breathe new life into a very familiar setup.

Infection in the Heartland

Something strange is happening in Ogden Marsh, Iowa. During a high school baseball game, a well-known local wanders onto the field with a shotgun, forcing Sheriff David Dutton (Timothy Olyphant) to make a split-second decision that leaves the whole town shaken.

Soon after, another trusted resident burns his house to the ground — with his family inside. Sheriff Dutton, his deputy Russell (Joe Anderson), and his wife Judy (Radha Mitchell) begin to suspect something unnatural is infecting their town. Their fears are confirmed when the military arrives and quarantines Ogden Marsh, labeling the victims “The Crazies.”

Eisner stages the chaos with an eye for detail — tilted camera angles, desaturated tones, and bursts of red that recall the best of Romero’s social horror.

Olyphant’s Steady Hand

Timothy Olyphant anchors The Crazies with exactly the kind of quiet authority and rugged charm that made him a fan favorite in HBO’s Deadwoodand the FX series Justified . He’s the everyman hero you believe in — calm, capable, and willing to fight when cornered. His sheriff feels lived-in, not written.

Radha Mitchell, meanwhile, plays Judy with understated strength. She’s not just the sheriff’s wife; she’s a woman caught in an impossible situation and forced to rise above it. One standout sequence gives her a fierce, crowd-pleasing moment involving a trio of sinister hunters — proof that she’s no passive victim.

Familiar, Yet Fresh

What makes The Crazies stand out isn’t reinvention — it’s execution. Eisner embraces the conventions of the genre while twisting them just enough to keep us guessing. The humor that emerges in moments of dread feels unforced and even welcome. The film’s pacing never drags, and its scares land because the characters feel real.

You’ve seen this story before, but rarely with this much visual wit, tension, and craftsmanship. The Crazies is proof that even in the age of endless remakes, there’s room for intelligence and style.

Final Thoughts

Breck Eisner’s The Crazies is one of those underappreciated horror remakes that deserves a second look. It’s efficient, gripping, and far smarter than it needs to be. Timothy Olyphant’s grounded heroism and Eisner’s confident direction elevate what could have been standard genre fare into something genuinely thrilling.

More than a remake — it’s a reminder that the apocalypse is scarier when it looks like home.

Spike Lee’s Highest 2 Lowest Reimagines Kurosawa with Power and Purpose

Highest 2 Lowest

Directed by: Spike Lee

Written by: Alan Fox

Starring: Denzel Washington, Jeffrey Wright, Ilfenesh Hadera, A$AP Rocky

Release Date: August 15, 2025

Streaming on: Apple TV+

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (4 out of 5 stars)

Spike Lee’s Highest 2 Lowest transforms Akira Kurosawa’s High and Low into a sharp, modern thriller about power, morality, and music. Denzel Washington delivers one of his most commanding performances in years.

Spike Lee Meets Akira Kurosawa

Spike Lee reimagining a film by Akira Kurosawa? Someone pinch me. Highest 2 Lowest sounds like a dream collaboration — a fusion of two filmmakers known for their moral complexity and visual boldness. Based loosely on Kurosawa’s High and Low, Lee’s film reshapes the classic into a contemporary story about art, money, and moral compromise.

The result is one of Lee’s most contained, focused, and emotionally resonant dramas in years — a grown-up story with real weight, rare in modern Hollywood.

A Music Mogul on the Edge

Denzel Washington stars as David King, the head of a once-dominant hip-hop label now losing its grip. As David evolved from discovering talent to managing an empire, the creative spark that made him powerful began to dim. With his company facing a corporate takeover, David prepares a bold move: using his fortune to buy out his partners and reclaim his independence.

But just as the deal is about to close, tragedy strikes — his son is kidnapped. A ransom demand puts him in an impossible position: save his child, or save his company. What begins as a business thriller soon becomes a test of loyalty, morality, and identity.

Lee’s Direction: Controlled Chaos with a Pulse

Working from a script by Alan Fox, Spike Lee delivers one of his sharpest, most controlled films in years. He brings a sense of playfulness and tension to every scene, especially in a breathtaking subway chase sequence that recalls the energy of Inside Man.

Lee balances the slick, corporate world with moments of raw emotion and humor, blending social commentary with cinematic flair. His fingerprints are all over the film — from the rhythmic pacing to the bold use of music and color.

Denzel Washington at His Most Relaxed and Magnetic

Denzel Washington hasn’t felt this natural on screen in years. As David King, he radiates confidence and quiet power. His eyes — always his most expressive tool — carry the story’s emotional weight, communicating pride, fear, and heartbreak with remarkable subtlety.

Jeffrey Wright provides an intense counterbalance as a desperate ally, while Ilfenesh Hadera shines as David’s poised and perceptive wife. The real surprise, however, is A$AP Rocky, whose key scene with Washington showcases unexpected chemistry and depth. Rather than overshadowing his young co-star, Denzel lifts him up — a testament to both his skill and generosity as an actor.

Apple TV’s Strange Release Strategy

Highest 2 Lowest had an oddly muted rollout. After earning praise at Cannes, the film received a limited theatrical release before quietly landing on Apple TV+ — with almost no marketing. It’s a baffling move that likely kept many viewers, myself included, from discovering it sooner.

Now that it’s streaming, Highest 2 Lowest is exactly the kind of film worth catching up on: bold, adult, and beautifully made. For Spike Lee, it’s a return to form — and for Denzel Washington, it’s another reminder of why he remains one of cinema’s greatest living actors.

Final Thoughts

Highest 2 Lowest is more than a remake — it’s a reawakening. Lee and Washington turn Kurosawa’s moral puzzle into a modern parable about power and conscience, grounded in music, family, and business. It’s an unmissable entry in both men’s legacies — and a highlight of 2025 cinema that too few people have seen.

31 Days of Horror: Carnival of Souls— A Miraculous Masterpiece That Refused to Die

Carnival of Souls

Directed by: Herk Harvey

Written by: John Clifford

Starring: Candace Hilligoss, Sidney Berger

Release Date: September 26, 1962

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️½ (4.5/5)

Rediscover Carnival of Souls (1962), the eerie, low-budget miracle that became a cult classic. Herk Harvey’s haunting one-off feature remains one of the most atmospheric and unsettling horror films ever made.

A Miracle Born from the Midwest

Carnival of Souls stands as a cinematic anomaly — a film that, against all odds, achieved enduring recognition. Conceived by Herk Harvey, a Kansas-based industrial filmmaker with no experience in features and barely a budget to speak of, its half-century of fame feels like an act of divine intervention.

Harvey’s inspiration came close to home: he admired Robert Altman, another Kansas City filmmaker who had broken through with independent work. During a road trip, Harvey passed by the abandoned Saltair Amusement Park in Salt Lake City. The decaying, otherworldly structure struck him as the perfect setting for a nightmare — and soon became the film’s haunting visual centerpiece.

The Woman Who Shouldn’t Be Alive

The film stars Candace Hilligoss as Mary Henry, a young woman who inexplicably survives a car crash that kills her friends. Traumatized but eerily detached, she takes a new job as a church organist in a small town. Yet she is haunted — pursued by a pallid figure known only as “The Man”(played, uncredited, by Harvey himself).

Appearing in mirrors, windows, and dreams, this ghostly presence drives Mary toward the desolate pavilion at Saltair. There, reality and death intertwine. Is she seeing the supernatural — or her own fractured reflection in the afterlife?

Industrial Filmmaking Meets Existential Horror

Despite his lack of experience in narrative cinema, Herk Harveydemonstrates remarkable instinct. His background in educational and industrial shorts gave him a sharp eye for composition and rhythm. The long takes, patient pacing, and stark black-and-white photography (necessitated by the budget) lend Carnival of Souls an uncanny texture — as if we’re watching a dream that’s begun to rot.

The sound design is equally vital. The eerie organ score underscores the religious and psychological undertones, turning every shadow into a whisper of judgment.

The Dance of the Dead

The film’s most unforgettable sequence unfolds inside the abandoned carnival pavilion: ghostly figures waltz in silence, gliding in endless circles as Mary watches in horror. The static framing and spectral choreography achieve pure nightmare logic.

This same imagery returns in the climax — a repetition that transforms poetic dread into cosmic horror. Decades later, it’s hard not to see Carnival of Souls as a precursor to George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (1968) and even David Lynch’s surrealist nightmares.

From TV Filler to Cult Legend

That Carnival of Souls survived at all is miraculous. For years, it aired on local TV stations as cheap filler, quietly gathering a cult following among late-night horror fans. By the 1970s and 1980s, it had become a midnight moviestaple — and later a Criterion Collection title, complete with restorations and interviews that confirmed its rightful place in horror history.

A Personal Discovery

My introduction to Carnival of Souls came at a Barnes & Noble, when the ghostly face of Herk Harvey on the Criterion cover caught my eye. The eerie synopsis promised something special — and it delivered. Watching it for the first time felt like uncovering a lost artifact, preserved in celluloid salt.

The Legacy of Herk Harvey

Herk Harvey never made another feature, which makes Carnival of Souls feel even more miraculous — a single flash of brilliance that defined a career. His story is a testament to accidental genius: proof that one inspired vision can echo across decades.

The film’s survival, like its heroine’s, defies reason. That’s what makes Carnival of Souls not just a horror classic, but a spiritual experience in persistence — a whisper from the grave reminding us that great art can emerge from anywhere, and live forever.

Eleanor the Great — Scarlett Johansson’s Graceful Directorial Debut

Eleanor The Great

Directed by: Scarlett Johansson

Written by: Tony Kamen

Starring: June Squibb, Erin Kellyman, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Jessica Hecht, Rita Zohar

Release Date: September 26, 2025

Scarlett Johansson’s directorial debut Eleanor the Great stars June Squibb in a heartfelt, funny, and deeply human story about grief, friendship, and finding meaning late in life. A quiet triumph that proves Johansson may be as good behind the camera as she is in front of it.

The Story of a Lonely Heart Finding a New Purpose

Eleanor the Great stars the remarkable June Squibb as Eleanor, an elderly Florida retiree whose tranquil routine is shattered by the death of her lifelong best friend, Bessie (Rita Zohar). With no reason to stay, Eleanor impulsively decides to move back to New York City to live with her daughter, Lisa (Jessica Hecht).

Lisa, overwhelmed by work and ill-equipped for long-term cohabitation, quickly begins searching for assisted living options. But that tension is just the prologue — the real story begins when Eleanor meets Nina Davis (Erin Kellyman), a journalism student grieving her own mother’s death.

At a local community center, Eleanor finds herself mistakenly invited to a Holocaust survivors’ group. Though she isn’t a survivor, she begins retelling her late friend Bessie’s stories as her own — an act of kindness that slowly becomes a dangerous lie once Nina decides to feature Eleanor’s “story” in a college thesis and, eventually, on television with her father, Roger (Chiwetel Ejiofor).

A Story That Could Have Been Sitcom Fodder — But Isn’t

What could easily have devolved into a farcical sitcom about mistaken identity instead blossoms into a film full of grace, humanity, and forgiveness. Johansson and writer Tony Kamen resist the urge for cheap laughs or tear-jerking manipulation. Instead, they find beauty in vulnerability — the quiet, everyday courage it takes to confront loss, loneliness, and the lies we tell to feel less alone.

When Eleanor’s secret is inevitably threatened, the film doesn’t seek to humiliate her. It extends compassion — to her, to Nina, to everyone just trying to hold onto meaning in a world that keeps taking things away.

Scarlett Johansson Behind the Camera

For her first film as director, Scarlett Johansson proves surprisingly understated. Her touch is light, her pacing unhurried. There’s no ego here, just a sincere focus on the story and the people within it. Having grown up surrounded by filmmakers, Johansson understands that directing is as much about listening as it is about control.

Eleanor the Great isn’t a flashy debut. It’s quietly confident, generous toward its cast, and deeply human — the kind of work that signals Johansson could have a serious second act as a filmmaker if she continues down this path.

June Squibb and Erin Kellyman: A Friendship for the Ages

The movie’s heart belongs entirely to June Squibb and Erin Kellyman, whose chemistry feels effortless and real. Their friendship — tender, funny, and unforced — anchors the movie emotionally.

Squibb, fresh off last year’s wonderful Thelma, is a revelation once again. She refuses to play Eleanor as a caricature of an old woman acting young. Instead, she finds humor and strength in dignity, crafting a character full of curiosity, regret, and warmth. Kellyman’s naturalism complements her beautifully, resulting in one of the year’s most touching onscreen duos.

The End of “Old People Acting Young” Jokes

Years ago, The Simpsons killed the tired trope of “old people acting young” with one perfectly barbed gag: Dame Vanessa Redgrave saying, “I’m going to haul ass to Lollapalooza.” That moment symbolically buried a cultural trend — and perhaps made room for stories like Eleanor the Great.

Now, filmmakers like Johansson are crafting stories that respect aging characters. We’re seeing that older women can be funny, complex, and vitalwithout becoming the butt of the joke. June Squibb’s late-career renaissance stands as proof that maturity and emotional intelligence are cinematic assets, not liabilities.

Final Thoughts: A Beautiful, Unflashy Triumph

Eleanor the Great is a small film that earns big emotions. It’s about the lies we tell not to deceive, but to connect — and how empathy, not punishment, offers redemption.

Scarlett Johansson’s directorial debut may not reinvent the wheel, but it reminds us why storytelling matters. And in June Squibb, it gives us a heroine for the ages — wise, fallible, and beautifully alive.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (4/5)