Hello folks, and welcome back to hooooly shit it’s 2026. That is too large of a number, too late of a year. That’s far enough into the 21st century that I can’t actually blame The Youth for categorizing people as “from the last century,” even if such framing makes my bones creak. I’m fuckin’ old, you guys; I’m now “slept on my knee wrong and thus suffered a month of agony” old, and all that is new is strange and terrifying to me. Even the fact that I’m typing this rather than announcing it into my phone’s camera marks me as an Old Person; the written word has lost the war, but I’ll be fighting this fruitless battle until my beard descends into a comforting grey cocoon, and I’ve gained the solemnity of age to mumble indistinctly about “the war” and “back in my day” and other comforting mantras of obsolescence. But that is fortunately still a great number of movie screenings from now, and in the meantime, I’ve got plenty of thoughts on my latest viewings. Let’s get to it!
First up this week was History of the Occult, a 2020 Mexican-Argentinian coproduction set in 1987, wherein the last broadcast of the news program “60 Minutes Until Midnight” is set to expose the Argentinian president’s connections to a vast occult conspiracy. The film follows several threads in near-real time, simultaneously documenting the interviews of the news program, the concurrent investigations of the program’s producers, and the progress of their field agent Natalia as she seeks for one final, crucial piece of evidence.
History of the Occult is a masterful exercise in horror economy, echoing the “bottle episode apocalypse” structure of a film like Pontypool, while also playing on the inherently unsettling juxtaposition of formal TV structure and horror intrusions embodied by Late Night With the Devil. The film successfully captures the energy of a city near the point of violent revolution, with all the paranoia and tightly wound energy that implies, and filters all of that through an increasingly unsettling occult lens. As a result, the film’s energy remains high from start to finish, and each flourish of the supernatural feels like the intrusion that will finally shatter their desperate rebellion.
Beyond the film’s tight, smartly reserved script (I was seriously impressed with how well the film handled the idea of “erased” people and variant realities) and clever structure, History of the Occult almost makes consistently effective use of its flexible cinematography. The film is largely shot in black and white with a tight focus and heavy grain, a choice which not only echoes the revolutionary photography it’s originally imitating, but also facilitates the implication of shadowy devils around every corner. From this restrained initial aesthetic, later variations in color and aspect ratio do a terrific job of echoing the journeys and transformations of its characters, facilitating a visually convincing journey to hell itself. An easy recommendation for fans of horror, unique framing conceits, or simply good fuckin’ movies.
We then checked out Tales From The Crypt Presents: Demon Knight, a full-length film produced under the auspices of HBO’s Tales from the Crypt umbrella, which I’d heard boxed well outside its presumed cinematic weight class. Billy Zane stars as The Collector, a hellborn pursuer determined to retrieve the last holy key restraining demonkind. With his quarry close at hand, the only thing standing in his way is one boarding house’s worth of outstanding character actors, including CCH Pounder, Thomas Haden Church, William Sadler, and Dick Miller.
So yeah, that’s a delightful collection of actors you’re always happy to see, and they all get to die in alternately heroic or amusing ways as they’re tormented by a demonic Billy Zane. Zane is wonderful here himself, evoking a convincingly devilish mixture of amusement and contempt for his mortal opponents, and frequently letting himself go fully cartoonish in his angry outbursts. Plus we even get some demonic stop-motion beasties rambling around, a welcome addition to practically any horror feature. Brimming with talent and utterly dedicated to its B-horror pleasures, Demon Knight indeed proved a worthy addition to the drive-in horror canon.
Next up in our Godzilla stomp-through was Godzilla vs Mechagodzilla 2. Following up on the lighter tone of Mothra’s return, this one sees not just Mechagodzilla, but also Rodan and my beloved Baby Godzilla returning to the fold. With both Godzilla and Rodan making a royal mess of things, the heroes of Japan will have to use all their wiles (and perhaps just a dash of common sense) to keep their skyscrapers vertically oriented.
Godzilla’s second rematch with his metallic malefactor sees the franchise back in full Showa-reminiscent form, with vaguely humanized kaijus, incomprehensible twists in narrative fortune, and basically no larger thematic takeaway to speak of, beyond the self-evident “don’t be mean to Baby Godzilla.” And yes, my boy is back! Baby Godzilla is back and as adorable as ever, even if he’s updated his The Baby From Dinosaurs look to more closely resemble his curmudgeonly father.
Anyway, this one is basically pure camp, and far better for it. While Godzilla’s greatest triumphs often see the series operating in a more serious, melancholic register, the bread and butter of the franchise is titan-sized wrestling matches, and Mechagodzilla 2 offers a generous selection of those, while also doing an excellent job of humanizing its robot pilots. Mechagodzilla is actually earth’s last line of defense here, rather than an alien interloper, and thus every desperate maneuver by its crew carries with it the implication that failure here means the destruction of humanity altogether. All that plus Baby Godzilla stomping around – what more could you ask for?
Last up for the week was The Intern, a Nancy Meyers comedy-drama starring Robert De Niro as Ben Whittaker, a widower and retiree who’s found himself bored with retirement. Signing up for the newly created “senior intern” program, he ends up working directly with the e-commerce startup About the Fit’s founder Jules Osten (Anne Hathaway). Though initially skeptical about Ben’s abilities, Jules soon finds herself relying on her soft-spoken intern more and more, leading to an odd partnership as they navigate the hurdles of her fledgling company.
Meyers has made a career out of writing and directing warm-hearted, quietly sensitive character dramas, and The Intern fits comfortably into her wheelhouse, offering ample opportunities for both its stars to shine. De Niro is as charming as he’s ever been, embracing his almost Mary Poppins-esque role with relish, and bringing a lifetime of humanity to a character that would otherwise feel like an improbable fantasy. Hathaway similarly elevates her material, pulling off a third-act speech that grounds the film in the impossible compromises of career and familial obligations, and thereby turning what could easily play as artificial drama into a validation of Jules’ emotional complexity. The film doesn’t reveal any of these strengths in its hokey fish-out-of-water first third, so I’m glad I stuck with the journey, and gave these magnificent actors the time to bring their characters to life.
