Bigger, Longer, and Uncut: "Gladiator II," reviewed.

Pedro Pascal and Paul Mescal get down to it. (Paramount)

“Gladiator was the one where Ridley Scott revived the sword-and-sandals genre that had been dormant for decades while also managing to suggest that our addiction to spectacle—one he himself had then been nurturing for 20 years—might not be altogether healthy, for individuals or democracies. 

“Gladiator II is the one where he throws in a CGI shark. “

My Washington City Paper of the unlikely 24.5-years-later sequel is here.

Ripley's Eleven: "Alien: Romulus," reviewed.

When you're smiling, the whole world smiles at you. (20th Century Studios)

My Washington CIty Paper review of Alien: Romulus, the 45-year-old franchise’s first legasequel, is here. Lest anyone fear I have not had enough to say about these slimy, sweaty movies that I so love, even when they’re bad. Which this new one is not!

"Alien" Nation: Hollywood's Ickiest Franchise has Always Been an Incubator for Filmmaking Talent

In space, no can hear your scream at your A.D.

No film franchise has had a more accomplished class of filmmakers explode from its womb than the ALIEN-iad. Extraterrestrial, extraterrestrial, read all about it in the Paper of Record.

Summer of '82: "The Future Was Now," reviewed.

Walter Koenig and Paul Winfield on the set of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, part of the genre Class of ‘82.

If you’re a certain kind of cinephile, you probably know a few things with the rote force of scripture: That Conan — the barbarian, not the talk show host — philosophized about what is best in life. That E.T. phoned home. That Spock sacrificed himself to save the crew of the starship Enterprise. That patricidal “replicant” Roy Batty, in the final moments of his own brief life, eulogized his vanishing memories as “tears in rain.”

My Washington Post review of Chris Nashawaty’s The Future Was Now: Madmen, Mavericks, and the Epic Sci-Fi Summer of 1982 is here.

"Napoleon:" Not Dynamite!

Once more into the breach. (Apple)

Sir Ridley Scott, the tireless 85-year-old director of two sci-fi landmarks, a classic feminist road movie, one Best Picture-winning epic and a lot of other stuff, has notched another middling megaproduction with Napoleon. My Washington City Paper review is here.

Under the Skin Job: Blade Runner 2049, reviewed.

All I'm allowed to tell you is this is a photo of Ryan Gosling. (Stephen Vaughn)

I seldom write same-day reviews, but because Blade Runner 2049's embargo was abruptly lifted before it even screened in DC, I had to scramble. I'm very happy to be able to say it's a triumph, a satisfying much-later follow-up in the new tradition of Mad Max: Fury Road, Creed, and Star Wars: The Force Awakens. But... better than those, even, would you believe.

Here's the review. Enhance!

Handling the Fingering: Alien: Covenant, reviewed.

Katherine Waterston is more heavily armed than Sigourney Weaver was in her first xenomorph encounter. (Fox)

My fanboyish impulses mostly come out whenever there's a new ALIEN. Mostly.

I tried not to splash too much corrosive blood on the deck in my dissection of Alien: Covenant.