'Toy Story 4' is another tearjerker from the geniuses at Pixar

I was really skeptical going into Toy Story 4. The previously entry in this nearly 25 year old franchise was not only my favorite, but it felt like the perfect finale for this heartwarming series about a collection of toys that come to life when they young owner is away.

And for stretches of Toy Story 4, which is laugh out loud funny, I still questioned if this film needed to exist for any reason other than to make money.

But then the last act sticks the landing so hard with so many rich emotional content, that I found myself balling over these neurotic animated characters all over again.

It's some kind of remarkable magic trick that the Pixar team pulls off -- getting us to care about Woody, Buzz, Bo and the rest as if they were a part of our family. Granted for some viewers they have literally grown up with these characters and if this is truly the last installment, they too will have a huge lump in their throat by the end of this one.

So much care and creativity went into every ounce of this film, and even when a few story beats feel redundant with previous entries (yes, Woody yet again gets separated from the others), the artistry on display here is mind-blowing.

This may be one of the best looking animated films I've ever seen. It's also just as dark as Toy Story 3 occasionally got, even a little scary in some sequences that make wonderful nods to The Shining.

There are welcome vocal additions here, especially Tony Hale as a hilarious new character called Forky, and Key Peele as a couple of wisecracking carnival prize stuffed animals.

Like all of these films, they can be totally enjoyed as a straight ahead kids film and as a very adult meditation on letting go and acceptance.

Most of the best Pixar films have this perfect mixture of the sour and the sweet, but there is something special about the Toy Story films. It might be because these were the films that started it all. It also may be because the voice acting of Tom Hanks in particular is a step above everyone else.

Whatever the secret is, I have to tip my cap to this franchise. Just like the Marvel movies, you can't discount and dismiss them as pure commercial fodder. A lot of thought and care went into making this as moving and memorable as it is.

Is the great summer blockbuster movie dead?

Last night, before a screening I hosted of the Jean Claude Van-Damme/Dennis Rodman 1997 debacle Double Team, there was a trailer for the absurdly bombastic upcoming action film Hobbs and Shaw.

It's a bit of a victory lap for The Rock and Jason Statham, who have emerged as perhaps the most likable performers in the Fast & Furious franchise and have the star power to really sell a spin-off like this.

Sure, the trailer gives away way too much -- but boy does this movie look fun in a check your brain at the entrance kind of way. And it has a killer last shot in which The Rock appears to be swinging a helicopter with his bare hands. Those kinds of moments are crucial to selling movies like these.

There was something about watching this trailer that reminded me of when I was a kid and summer movie season was the most exciting time of the year. Yes, there were always the family films, which eventually became the tentpole Pixar movies, but there were also high concept action spectacles with big stars and bravura sequences.

But, for the last few years, there haven't been many traditional summer movies for me to get excited about. Part of this is me just getting older. Maybe I'm no longer the target audience for a movie like Godzilla: King of the Monsters, and I know I'm not for Detective Pikachu, but with the biggest movies of the year opening earlier and earlier these days, the drought of good until we reach the awards season deep into the winter feels longer than ever.

Yes, superhero movies still deliver this time of year. The early buzz on Spider-Man: Far From Home is good, and that does feel like an old school summer blockbuster. Last year it was Mission: Impossible - Fallout filled that void for me. But this year, movies like Men In Black: International, Dark Phoenix and at least critically if not commercially, Aladdin, have all been duds.

The movie most deserving of a summer movie reception, Booksmart, was a massive bomb at the box office, for reasons I still can't fully understand.

It may be sequel fatigue, especially when they're ones that no one domestically was clamoring for. But that fact is that with a couple of exceptions (like Christopher Nolan's Dunkirk and Inception) almost every summer of the last 10 years has been dominated by sequels or films based on established source material, usually comic books or animated titles.

There are two non-traditional summer films that I am as excited about at the blockbusters that I used to rush out to as a kid: Midsommar, director Ari Aster's follow-up to Hereditary and Quentin Tarantino's Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. Midsommar, is already divisive with critics, and may be (like Hereditary) too heady to win over a mainstream audience, but Tarantino's ninth film is another story. It's got huge stars, an intriguing Charles Manson adjacent hook and the Tarantino brand, which still gets audiences out most of the time.

There have been a few buzzy, zeitgeisty movies this year -- I would argue that Us and John Wick 3 qualify. Endgame does too I suppose, although it almost felt like something you had to see to be a completist, even though it was better than it needed to be.

Midsommar and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood could be the popular, widely discussed and debated, kind of breakout summer movie that I've always loved. My fingers are crossed.

'Always Be My Maybe' is overshadowed by the Keanu-ssance

Always Be My Maybe, the recent Netflix film starring Randall Park and Ali Wong is a pretty conventional romantic comedy in a lot of ways. It's a tried and true formula -- boy and girl go from being childhood friends to lovers to friends to lovers again. In fact, the story could work with a couple of any race.

But this is a mainstream rom com starring to two Asian people, and so therefore it is a rarity and an advance. And the fact that the narrative is not an exceptional one or an elevated fairy tale (like Crazy Rich Asians) is something of a stealth triumph as well.

There is subtle diversity throughout the film, even a trans character pops up if its no big thing. The entire affair lowkey and perfectly suited for viewing at home.

And even if it's tonally a little jarring -- the more serious moments don't always play as well as the broader comedic ones -- it's a charming little trifle, which also will for better or worse also contribute to the Keanu-ssance we're currently living in.

I have mixed feelings about the Keanu Reeves extended cameo in this film as a wacko version of himself who is dating Wong's character. Reeves is riveting, totally reveling in the parody of his public persona but also showing new shades as a comic actor I haven't seen from him before. The trouble is his sudden appearance suddenly spins what was a fairly grounded romance into a more surreal territory.

And then he disappears from the narrative abruptly and unrealistically -- I like when the film had Reeves' suddenly dropping hints of being an egomaniac, but his eventual eruption would have spoiled the fun of a more high concept comedy: what if your dream girl met and started dating Keanu Reeves.

So when Reeves leaves (see what I did there?) you feel his absence and the more unpredictable movie he suggested is now gone too, and we settle into the familiar territory of the 'lead character must change fundamental personality character trait unrealistically in order to show they are willing to sacrifice for love' stuff.

I feel, more realistically, people don't change much and their success of failure in love has more to do with find a person who can tolerate or even love your flaws vs. someone fixated on them. This is one of those movies where both leads are endlessly charming but who I never really bought as a couple with chemistry.

It actually would make sense if Wong's character, established as an extremely career driven celebrity, would be far better suited for a relationship with Reeves. And as cute as it often is, the movie just don't work hard enough to sell us on some of its plotting.

And yet I am thrilled it exists, that despite the loud chorus of haters, concerted efforts to finally start having more representation are still ongoing and going strong. I know there is a lot of bile out there about projects like these being p.c. culture run amok.

But those folks have never had to suffer through the indignity of seeing their culture be virtually invisible in one the most if not the most influential media on the planet,

'Paris Is Burning' is a perfect documentary for this time or any

I don't remember how and when I first discovered the landmark documentary Paris Is Burning, but once I saw it, I knew I was beholding something I could never forget. I just got to see it again at Film Forum, a restoration on the big screen, and I am even more blown away by it.

It's funny, smart, informative, moving and ultimately life affirming -- it gives you everything you could possibly want and more: unforgettable costumes, classic lines and glorious atmosphere.

I'm not quite sure how director Jennie Livingston earned the trust of her subjects, who are mostly young LGBTQ people in turbulent 1980s New York, but she works miracles by keeping the voices of any outsiders completely out of this film.

For the uninitiated, the film explores the complex and colorful culture of 'balls' -- something akin to a fashion competition but also a celebration of a marginalized community that nevertheless is strong, loving, fierce and so profoundly funny.

It's one of the most immersive documentaries I've ever seen, aided tremendously by its toe tapping disco-infused soundtrack but also the rhythm of the interviewees voices as they break down 'mopping,' 'shade', 'reading' and 'realness,' among other insider terms (only later to be co-opted by the mainstream).

There is also a sadness that intrudes on the fun -- many of the protagonists would succumb to the AIDS in the years that followed, and the film doesn't shy away from describing the potential dark side of living as a trans woman then and now.

Naturally, this film had a major impact upon its release -- its simply too indelible to ignore -- but its legend has only grown since and in the wake of the Trump administration's ongoing war to curtail trans rights, it's more important than it's ever been.

People, especially young people, need to see this film. I'm heartened to hear that it's used as an education tool, because it is such honest but accessible way to expose people to a very celebrated facet of gay culture, without demeaning anyone or trivializing them.

What comes across on screen is the warmth, love and humanity of these beautiful people, and when the movie ended I didn't want to say goodbye. I just hope someday the atmosphere of the ballroom can enter every space in America. We all need to better and the excellence on display here is an inspiration.

'When They See Us' starts necessary conversation about tragic case

The success of and national conversation started by the Central Park Five drama When They See Us proves once again that director Ava DuVernay does wonders with material like this.

Her breakthrough film Selma happened coincide with a bitter fight over degrading elements of the Voting Rights Act.

Her blistering documentary 13th, not only shed light on the tragically flawed prison industrial complex, but it also forced Hillary Clinton to confront her uncomfortable past, stumping for the infamous crime bill of the '90s while using terms like "super-predators."

Her new, ambitious miniseries, is a very vivid retelling of the horrifying true story of the Central Park Five. And perhaps ironically, because one of the falsely accused five's loudest enemies -- Donald Trump -- is now president of the United States (1?) and he also still stubbornly insisting that they simply must be guilty of a crime that someone else confessed to and which DNA evidence cleared them of participating in -- their story has a newfound relevance.

I was too young to be caught up in the Central Park Five drama when it first happened 30 years ago, but I do remember that period being very violent and racially fraught in New York City. I grew up in New Jersey but I got a steady diet of scary headlines pumped into my veins from the local NewYork affiliate on a daily basis.

Years later I ravenously consumed Ken Burns' heartbreaking documentary about the five boys who lost their childhood because overzealous prosecutors and heartless cops, most of whom never admitted fault in their case.

The companion book, penned by Burns' daughter Sarah, is an even more harrowing experience, if nothing else because if goes into gruesome detail about the crimes the real assailant of the Central Park Jogger did and continued to do while these five innocent black and brown youths endured untold horrors behind bars.

After A Wrinkle in Time landed with a thud -- I can't remember a more reviled recent film that still somehow managed to eek out a $100 million gross -- I think a lot of folks started to second-guess DuVernay's talent. That disappoint came on the heels of her walking off Black Panther, only to see Ryan Coogler take the superhero genre film to new heights, scoring an unprecedented nod for Best Picture.

But here her virtuoso skills are back on display in full force. She knows how to tell very moving intimate stories on a very large canvas. You never lose the sense that this was a crime that captivated the city if not a nation, while at the same time you come to care about each individual boys lives and are deeply effected by their fates.

It is no small feat to pull off storytelling on this scale and across four episode there is no important element that goes overlooked -- from the brutality of the attack on the victim to the purely unlucky reason one of the boys, Korey Wise, was even ensnared in the case in the first place.

I was so thrilled to hear the news that the series has been topping Netflix's 'ratings', such as they are, since its debut. And it forced the president stick by his racist position on the case, as he is want to do.

Of course, his words can do nothing to diminish the bravery and strength of the five young men profiled here or take away from the power of DuVernay's filmmaking.

This is stirring, must-see work.

Why Michael Mann is the man: An appreciation

Last night, inspired by the great movie-themed podcast Blank Check with Griffin and David I indulged in a double header of two of director Michael Mann's most successful films -- The Last of the Mohicans and Heat.

In some ways, the films couldn't be more different -- one is a romance set against the backdrop of tensions between native Americans and British interlopers and the other is perhaps the most epic cops and robbers movie ever made.

And yet they do share a DNA -- they are sensitive, yet brutally violent action films with conflicted, but highly masculine men at their center.

It's something unique that Mann brings to the table. It's not that all of his films are successful -- I thought Blackhat was an impenetrable mess and Ali falls short of being the biopic that greatest boxer of all time deserved (even though Will Smith does as admirable a job as probably anyone could ever do of mimicking the real thing).

He generally takes big, usually macho male movie stars like Pacino, De Niro, Cruise, Depp, Crowe, etc., and lets them both be badass and undeniably vulnerable at the same time. This is not an easy feat to pull off and most modern filmmakers don't even bother.

Hobbs and Shaw will be entertaining to be sure, but I think it's safe to assume that The Rock and Jason Statham won't be emoting much or betraying any sense of insecurity. Part of the reason I am so sad to see Robert Downey Jr. exit the Marvel universe is because his Tony Stark/Iron Man had the most human evolution and inherently imperfect humanity.

Sure, Doctor Strange was cocky -- but Stark was damn near a war criminal until he got his head straight.

Similarly the men in Heat in particular are not going to win any awards for gender and cultural sensitivity. They are brutes and often single-minded ones at that.

And yet, there are repeatedly brought down to earth, sometimes by violent incidents beyond their control and sometimes, as in the end of Heat, by their own unhealthy code of honor.

My favorite Mann film is still hist first one -- the ice cold tour de force for James Caan, 1981's Thief. This is a film that culminates with its hero abandoning his wife and child and going on a one-man mission to execute all of his enemies, and if you know this film -- you're still rooting for him when he does it. Caan's character has a code and he can't deviate from it. You wind up respecting his logic, confidence and precision, even if his life choices are tragically bad.

The same can be said for the heroes of Heat -- in Mohicans, which is lovely to look at it, Daniel Day-Lewis is pretty heroic without caveats, a rarity for Mann. Pacino and De Niro are by any measure damaged men, incapable of maintaining normal relationships because of their obsessive dedication to professions that could very well kill them.

Neither man seems entirely self aware. They know that they are not cutting as husbands/boyfriends, but they also don't seem to know how to course correct. That tension creates a empathy for the characters and prevents them from becoming two-dimensional He-Men.

Unfortunately for Mann, the kind of movie he is best at making -- grown-up action films for adults -- has rapidly gone out of style, and his penchant for going over schedule and over budget is no bueno in any era. Still, his nearly a dozen films are an impressive testament to his skills and authenticity. 

Lovely, sad 'Last Black Man in San Francisco' is one of a kind

I've only visited San Francisco a couple of times, but I found both experiences transporting -- it really is such a distinct American city -- not just because of its unique hilly landscape or bohemian reputation or phenomenal food or even its complex cultural melange.

There is something else more ethereal that is hard to put into words, but which the new film -- The Last Black Man in San Francisco -- captures beautifully.

But part of what makes this very striking movie more profound is the fact that its grappling with a phenomenon that is plaguing several major American cities, including my own: the seeming inevitability of gentrification and the mixture of defiance and hopelessness it inspires.

This film operates at its own oddball pace with lots of humor, ambiguousness and gut wrenching drama. It's a very ambitious film and I suspect it will be a challenging one for some, especially since it's somewhat passive heroes are somewhat hard to penetrate (at first) and the narrative follows no conventional path.

It's easy to project other directors' influences on this film -- Terrence Malik, Barry Jenkins, Jim Jarmusch -- but as the movie unfolded, I found myself deducing that director Joe Talbot (who I was shocked to learn is a white man, since his film is so nuanced and sensitive around issues of race) was simply in a class by himself. He is a filmmaker to watch to be sure.

His film is not simply a screed against gentrification, but what it does is put poignant faces and families who bear the brunt of it front and center and it doesn't flinch away from portraying how painful being displaced in your own hometown can be.

At one key moment -- the nominal lead of the film -- Jimmie Fails (which is also the real life name of the actor who plays him) tells some snooty interlopers that you aren't allowed to hate a city unless you love it first.

And that's a sentiment that anyone living in a big city can wholeheartedly understand and cling to.

There's a feeling of things slipping away throughout the film -- but it's not a depressing slog. It's frequently surprising and often very funny, even if the humor isn't as accessible as it was in a similarly anti-establishment film like Sorry to Bother You.

I have no idea if a film like this will find an audience or could, but what it will be no matter how its received is a indelible snapshot of a city on the verge of completely whitewashing its past and its flawed to be sure but still very special characters.

Talbot, a fifth generation, resident of the city -- clearly knows how to capture the city's beauty and rough edges. The movie is gorgeously composed and set to an immersive score that can be intoxicating at times.

Hopefully, it's a movie that can hang around and be remembered around awards season, It was clearly crafted with a lot of love and passion and I can see it inspiring those kinds of feelings in others.