This Hollywood-style Norwegian monster movie rips along at breakneck speed and features likable characters and a fairy tale-inspired plot. Troll is the King Kong of Scandinavia, a ginormous creature that comes alive out of the rocks and earth of the mountainside and can crush tiny humans in his fist and throw helicopters around like toys. The film throws in some themes about sins committed in the name of Christianizing Norway and nature "pushing back" on human encroachments. But don't go looking for serious commentary in this movie (not that you would in a film called Troll). Characters are mostly archetypes -- the crazy believer, the savior scientist, the macho military man, the good folks who stand up to authority, etc. -- but you care about them. Wilmann is particularly strong at the film's center, infusing her character with pathos -- never overacting, she contributes to making the tale somehow believable. It's refreshing to see women in the lead roles, right up to the country's Prime Minister, and wielding the most power. Some pieces of the storytelling feel especially formulaic yet add nothing to the film as a whole, like forgettable Bourne-style datelines to set up locations and a rousing victory speech by a rogue captain towards the end. Troll is surprisingly fun, and that's enough. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix

This film features a cast of promising young actors, but it lacks originality and falls into the trap of many high school movies that portray teens as superficial products of worn-out clichés. Darby and the Dead, like others before it, wants it both ways -- to build a story around the hegemony and parameters of high school cliques while also critiquing them as shallow and meaningless. Throwing in a final act where characters from different social strata confess their mutual insecurities and find a middle ground doesn't reverse the fact that the film's premise is built on the same tired hierarchy and portrayals. For example, Capri coaches Darby not just on looking and acting the part of high school queen bee but also marketing the brand on social media. She praises her for "becoming a real person" when she gains more than 700 followers on Instagram and admonishes her for posting a "bikini selfie" without photoshopping or Facetuning it first. We're meant to understand both the silliness of this worldview and its basis in reality, which is a subtle moral message that this film, and so many others, fails to successfully land. Viewers may also feel they've seen it all before, from the haughty high schooler who breaks the fourth wall (Honor Society), to the popularity-provoking glow-up (He's All That, Do Revenge), to the dead-before-their-time storyline (Afterlife of the Party, The In Between). Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Hulu.

The European film industry knows it needs to nurture a new generation of filmmakers, filmgoers and film lovers to ensure its own continuity. But that’s a task easier said than done, especially in light of fast-changing patterns of media creation and consumption. Youth-oriented festivals across Europe are on the frontlines of these developments, and they’re demonstrating how inclusivity, engagement and education are as essential as access in reaching young audiences. “We are in an ever-changing society where things move a lot faster than they used to, so something that was hip six months ago is not hip any longer,” says Claudio Gubitosi, the founder in 1970 and ongoing director of the vast Giffoni Experience, a year-round youth-oriented multimedia and educational platform in Italy that encompasses multiple activities, including an annual film festival. “That’s why you need to keep talking to the kids to keep tabs on what they like and what they’re doing every day,” Gubitosi continues. “Otherwise you get stuck in the past. And what was good for them in the past isn’t good for them anymore.” Download the European Film Academy's Spring 2019 issue of Close-Up magazine to read the full article.

Guillermo del Toro's masterful artistry and the magical storytelling he's known for are both on display here, which will please fans but could be too scary for younger kids. His two-hour stop-motion animated Pinocchio, already a dark fable, is made even more somber in this fascist Italy-set rendition, which has several realistic death sequences. It also comes fast on the heels of Disney's own, more sentimental version of the tale, starring Tom Hanks. Del Toro has created a fascinating universe that starts in a beautifully realistic Italian village and transcends worlds, including a rendering of an afterworld limbo overseen by card-playing rabbits. The artisanal animation, created with co-director Gustafson and a broad crew of animators/puppeteers, is fascinating. It's hard not to want to repeatedly hit pause to soak in the vivid detail of the puppets and their settings, and to wonder at how it's all created. The film also layers onto the classic fairy tale thicker themes about father-son relationships, the meaning of life, religious zeal, and the absurdities of war and authoritarian rule. The latter could be intended as subversive, yet the messages aren't difficult to understand. Nazi salutes and fascist imagery give way to boys undercutting their war-games training by declaring a "tie," and the local magistrate calling Pinocchio a "dissident" for being an "independent thinker." There are subtexts here about patriarchs and puppets. One funny bit is the creation of a buffoon-ish Mussolini who is so tiny and pampered he must be lifted out of his car by an eager attendant. The film has some haunting sequences involving love and death and young boys bonding as they're trained to war against each other, and some gorgeous musical numbers (Alexandre Desplat composed and scored the film) -- especially those featuring Pinocchio's (Mann's) angelic voice. McGregor gives an inspiring voice performance as the pompous cricket-with-a-heart whose narration and regular accidents provide the film's comic relief. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix.

Though this sequel doesn't quite live up to the creativity and excitement of the original, it's still an entertaining, well-acted, and finely-produced adventure. Sequels generally start from a compromised place of instant comparison, and Enola Holmes 2 doesn't do itself many favors by incorporating so many flashbacks to the original. (Is this even necessary in the age of streaming, since viewers can refer back themselves with a click?) The references seem intent on focusing on Enola's childhood as an explanation for her character. But Enola is grown now, and her adult adventures are more interesting than her childhood lessons. Having her mother give her life and relationship advice as an adult in one scene is a more subtle touch, for example. Maybe this is a transition phase and Enola Holmes 3 will let grown-up Enola become more fully her own adult creation. For a franchise with so many feminist undertones, that would make sense. And here's hoping the series does carry on, as the world and characters they've adapted and created are rife with possibilities. That is a great credit to the storytellers and actors, especially Brown (Cavill feels a little underused, though maybe he's just playing repressed), as well as to the production design. Enola's Victorian-era London is steely-hued and fog-shrouded, a combination of claustrophobic cobble-stoned neighborhoods and enhanced vistas of monuments and factories across the grey Thames. Wardrobe features equally subdued colors, which admirably serve the characters and story rather than distracting from them. Playing a baddie (intended to look "insect-like" via his costume design), Thewlis leads a cast of memorable secondary characters. It seems each new entry in the series will involve a historical event or person and bring in new characters for the follow-up. The mid-credits epilogue of Enola Holmes 2 opens the door, literally, to a potentially exciting addition to the cast. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix.

'Tis the season for predictable holiday-themed romances offering actors spotlight and even comeback roles. Think Brooke Shields and Cary Elwes in 2021's A Castle for Christmas (which makes an appearance in a scene from Falling for Christmas), and replace them with Lindsay Lohan and Chord Overstreet. The film marks a return for Lohan, and she will be the main draw for this movie, judging by online anticipation already building. However, the highlight is narcissist fiancé Tad, played to the hilt by U.K.-born George Young. The film is a serviceable feel-good romance, but its premise -- heiress with amnesia who nobody in a small town recognizes -- requires blind faith, and making light of skiing accidents isn't in particularly good taste. You might have the sense you've seen it all before (there's even a prior film listed in IMDb with a similar premise and the same name). Falling is definitely best in its campier moments when it's not taking itself too seriously, like Sierra, with an entourage, all dolled up to take selfies, and Tad lost in the snowy mountains with ice-fishing survivalist Ralph. Listen for tunes performed by Overstreet, Lohan, and sister Aliana Lohan. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix.

This family-oriented follow-up offers more Belgium-set holiday festivities, and the film does well to focus more on interpersonal relations and less on fantasy. Of course, considering the premise of The Claus Family 2 -- that a grandfather, who is actually Santa, is training his grandson to take over the family business -- there are still plenty of effects-driven scenes of characters transporting via snow globe to the North Pole and tiny human elves with rocket-powered backpacks working the toy warehouse. But the sequel smartly shifts the focus to Jules (up-and-comer Mo Bakker) and his path to defining the role of Santa for himself, moving beyond just delivering toys to trying to make a difference in at least one child's life. The fact that his endeavor isn't entirely successful (it's effective, but not in the way he and the child hope) balances the make-believe elements with a nice touch of reality. The sequel's candlelit holiday ambiance is warm, and the elves are funnier this time around. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix.

This film knows its audience, which will likely be comprised of the beloved 1983 original's nostalgic fans. A Christmas Story Christmas caters to them with flashbacks, updated storylines and characters, and an ending that comes full circle back to the original. The film's highlights are some very smart commentary on family, love, and loss, particularly around the death of a beloved character. "Nothing can prepare us for one of life's most painful and inescapable events," Ralph tells us in voice-over. Another gem: "Attics are museums of indifference." The reflections make you believe Ralph could be a great writer, as he dreams. He also still has a comically wild imagination, like when he envisions an Old West-style snowball showdown or a Norman Rockwell-esque family magazine spread. A scene where family members go to great lengths to avoid opening the door to carolers is very funny. You don't have to have seen the earlier films to appreciate or enjoy this one. Set in 1974 (the original took place in the 1940s), this is a time when kids play with axes, they're told to solve their problems on their own, mothers-in-law mercilessly tease their son's wives, and men avoid their families at downtown bars. Some of this humor can be funny even while feeling anachronistic, but other scenes evoke more cringes than cackles, like when we're meant to laugh at people getting seriously injured or when kids who are bullied turn into bullies themselves. Through it all, Ralphie remains a sympathetic character, an everyman hero who triumphs at the important things: family, friendship, and fathering. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Warner Bros.

Bantú Mama, the Dominican Republic’s nominee to the International Oscar category this year, is about a French-Camaroonian woman who gets caught attempting to transport drugs out of Santo Domingo but escapes police custody and has to hide out in the slums until she can leave the country. It’s a slow-moving story full of evocative detail, and it stars an impressive and largely unknown (at least to international audiences) cast led by Clarisse Albrecht, also the film’s co-writer with director Ivan Herrera, and Scarlet Reyes. Any slum-set film from Latin America faces inevitable comparison to Fernando Meirelles and Kátia Lund’s landmark 2002 film City of God. Bantú Mama feels like that movie’s quieter, female cousin. Unlike the raucous pace and marked violence of the earlier film, Mama is full of quiet moments and symbolic images. A hand-held camera follows the characters closely, dwelling on their faces. Not a lot happens in many scenes, though a lot is conveyed. The central character Emma (Albrecht) is, of course, a woman, and so is the middle child of the family that takes her in. T.I.N.A. (Reyes) and her big brother, $hulo (Arturo Perez), find Emma on the side of a river after she’s escaped police custody. It’s Tina who suggests they take her in and who nurses her back to health, introduces her to their culture and negotiates her passage out of Santo Domingo. Teenage Tina’s character is a boss, full of precocious confidence and a filial power she enjoys wielding (we deduce her imprisoned father must be a big wig in the barrio; her mother has died). She doesn’t mind breaking rules, she doesn’t fear authority figures and she takes whatever she needs to survive. This confidence is admirable but, of course, it’s also clearly born of an excessive necessity. Without spoiling the ending, Tina reveals she is fully cognizant of the limited circumstances and horizons in the slums of Santo Domingo for her and her siblings. She is especially protective of her younger brother, Cuki (Euris Javiel), who also bonds with Emma as a mother figure. The title of the film refers to Emma’s tribal heritage and the role of mama thrust upon her when she’s taken in by the three parent-less children. However, Tina is a mama too. And the mama-land is Africa. Emma yearns to know her Camaroon roots. She gets her hair braided while on vacation, and her apartment in Paris is dotted with African masks and décor. There’s a flash forward of Emma wearing a golden dress and staring out of a doorless framed structure at the expansive sea, bright in the African sunlight. It could be reminiscent of the coastal structures where Africans were held and shipped off to the Americas. A scene has Emma and the three siblings jumping like the warriors of the Maasai tribe, all slow-motion childlike joy in a sea of scarcity. Emma teaches Tina how to wear a headscarf to send different messages. The film shifts drastically between very dark indoor or nighttime scenes and bright, sunlit settings. Likewise, the characters all aim to escape from darkness toward light. It seems Africa represents that light, at least to Emma. Shulo tells Cuki he can grow up to be either a tiger or a dove. “You’ll be a tiger,” the older boy insists. “You don’t have to be a tiger,” Emma whispers. But she knows a precious little boy cannot grow up as a dove and survive in their circumstances. Maybe in Africa. This review originally ran on the website of The Alliance of Women Film Journalists.

COVID's impact on high school students is evident in this documentary, which pivots to a very different story when the pandemic shuts down society. When My So-Called High School Rank begins, an interesting story unfolds about a high school musical that struck such an emotional chord with students that it was being adapted all across the United States and in vastly different communities. When COVID strikes, it doesn't just impact the students and their theater productions in this film, it changes the focus of the documentary as a whole. That's a little confusing in the middle of a film, no matter how understandable the motivation is. But what's really interesting about this documentary is how it continues to hold your attention in this transition as it launches into a new focus on the young people's lives in general. The kids are all right, but some of them face vast inequalities, including poverty, communities damaged by substance abuse, and gatekeepers that determine their future after high school. The film flips around between subjects and locations, and sometimes seems to get sidetracked by events like the Black Lives Matter protests or long-ish interviews with some parents but not others. The teens are widely diverse yet similar in their age-appropriate expression of their hopes for the future. And they all seem to be grappling with stress, the topic of the original musical. The film comes back to the theater piece at the end, but by then you feel you've moved on to a different movie. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of HBO Max.

This inventive ride, driven by perceptive performances from its stars, particularly young Marlow Barkley, blends family-friendly adventure with mature themes like overcoming grief and loss. Looking like Jack Sparrow meets Guns-n-Roses' Slash, Jason Momoa is purposefully excessive as a guide through dreams in Slumberland. Just when he starts to get obnoxious, though, the filmmakers throw out a narrative curveball that reveals his sensitive side. Chris O'Dowd is known for intuitive, understated acting, and he's vulnerable and sympathetic as the awkward uncle googling "how to raise a child" and reading up on "how to talk tween." In beard and fisherman's sweater, Kyle Chandler embodies the ideal father. But it's relative newcomer Barkley who steals the show as the grieving but courageous youngster. She is credible in every scene, no matter how unbelievable the set-up. The script pulls together various threads about these and other characters and situations with revelatory pay-offs along the way. It's hard to know where the story is going next, which makes the film fun to watch, despite some over-the-top scenarios and other, emotionally taxing themes and scenes. The high-budget production design and effects are captivating, with creative dreamscapes like salsa bands made out of leaves and a shadowy nightmare octopus reminiscent of an underwater Mind Flayer. A cadre of Pam Grier-ish Black female agents overseeing people's dreams are hilariously stuck in '70s wardrobe and décor for no real reason. Other secondary characters are equally memorable. The plotline and narrative interactions between "slumberland" and "waking life" offer insights into the characters, and into the human condition in general. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix.

This feel-good but predictable comedy features a likable cast that diverts attention away from the story's narrative potholes. Omari Hardwick is entertaining as the clumsy and not especially bright but big-hearted father in Fantasy Football. His knack for physical comedy is central in making the movie's wildly far-fetched premise amusing, for example in a goofy scene where he reacts to his hair and body shape being manipulated via his video game character. Marsai Martin, well-known for her role on Black-ish, brings confidence to her portrayal of his daughter, the film's true central character. It's always nice to see young women, especially women of color, in STEM fields on-screen. But her record-speed robot-building and NFL coaching undermine much sense of realism. Still, this film's core messages about balancing life's priorities are sweet, and it's refreshing to see a more family-friendly NFL ambiance than usual. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Image courtesy of Paramount+.