Since the Radio Silence duo is officially back in the director’s chair, we knew we were in for a bloody good time—but Ready or Not 2: Here I Come doesn’t just meet the bar; it blows it up.

If you’re still reeling from that iconic 2019 shot of Grace (the incomparable Samara Weaving) smoking a cigarette drenched in exploded in-laws, you’ll be happy to know the sequel picks up exactly where that smoke cleared.

The “Family Reunion” From Hell

Grace’s “happily ever after” lasted about as long as a wedding toast. She wakes up handcuffed in a hospital bed, facing a police force that wants answers and a new “High Seat” council that wants her head.

This time, it’s not just one eccentric family. It’s a global power struggle between rival dynasties, and Grace is the key to the throne. To survive the night, she has to team up with her estranged sister, Faith (played with “mad little sister” energy by Kathryn Newton). The two haven’t spoken in years, but nothing mends a sibling rift quite like being chained together while fleeing assassins.

Blood, Heart, and Humor

Directors Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett have perfected the “Gallows Humor” subgenre. This sequel manages to double down on the “gooey explosions” while keeping the emotional stakes surprisingly high.

Weaving and Newton are a revelation. Their chemistry makes you believe they shared a childhood, even while they’re performing “battlefield triage” on each other. The banter between them is believable and hilarious.

As we’ve come to expect, Samara Weaving can communicate an entire Shakespearean tragedy (and a few choice curse words) with just one wide-eyed look. And it kept me cracking up.

Sven Faulconer’s soundtrack is a character in its own right. I actually sat down with Sven to discuss how the music drives the film’s relentless pacing. During our interview, Faulconer discussed the score, soundtrack, and so much more. The good news is, you can get your copy of the soundtrack now.

The Verdict: Is It Worth the Invite?

I’ll admit I was nervous. How do you top the original? By expanding the lore into a John Wick-style underground society while keeping the focus on complex, badass women. Ready or Not 2 is a rare sequel that keeps the heart of the original while cranking the chaos up to eleven.

Ready or Not 2: Here I Come is an explosive 10/10. See it in theaters right now.

Like the mythical city of Brigadoon, Lisa Kudrow’s “The Comeback” has returned to television after many years away, with the difference that time has not stood still for its inhabitants, older in a changing world that values them less and which they navigate with less assurance.

Kudrow, who created and writes the series with Michael Patrick King, was in her youth a player in the twilight of network-dominated television, cast in a smart, influential show with wide, multigenerational appeal; in a quantitative sense, at least, everything would be downhill from there, as the medium transformed and transformed again. “The Comeback” premiered in 2005, just a year after the end of “Friends”; the first season addressed the rise of reality TV, and the next season, in 2014, riffed on dark, streaming “prestige” television.

The new (and final) season, which is both timely and speculative, addresses the impact of artificial intelligence on the medium and the industry, hinting at a dystopian future; this gives it a moral, even political component, not to say a sense of urgency. Not surprisingly, “The Comeback,” as a thing made by humans, comes down firmly on their side — it’s a manifesto at times — even as it acknowledges, uncomfortably, that computer-produced content might be “good enough.”

Once again, Kudrow plays Valerie Cherish, who, at 60 — the phrase “of a certain age” repeats throughout the series — still qualifies as a working actor. But she’s been pushed into the further reaches of the profession: Her two-season cozy mystery series, “Mrs. Hatt” (“part-time gardener, solves crime, husband is an ex-police chief”), is on no one’s radar but her own, having shown on Epix. A day’s work on a “no-budget” film is even less rewarding than she had imagined; she lasted all of two episodes on “The Traitors.” Paddling hard to stay current, to improve her brand, she bumbles through a podcast, “Cherish the Time,” without any idea what to do with that time; employs a social media person, Patience (Ella Stiller), with no discernible impact; and posts pictures of herself holding products in hopes of “future collabs.”

Still, she is not poor. Valerie and husband Mark (Damian Young), have moved from Brentwood to a condominium with a view in the (real life) Sierra Towers, overlooking the Sunset Strip, opening the latest “new chapter” in their lives, though just what that chapter for them is hard to say. Mark has lost his job in finance — “You told a joke at work at a time when jokes were illegal,” Valerie says, trying to cheer him, “no one cares now” — but left on a golden parachute; now he builds his day around pickleball. A potential role in a reality show, “Finance Dudes,” isn’t working out to anyone’s satisfaction. He’s on the verge of a three-quarter-life crisis.

When her self-promoting manager/publicist Billy (Dan Bucatinsky) comes to her waving an offer for a new series, for a new network, in which she’ll star, Valerie is more than intrigued, if taken aback when he tells her that it’s being written by AI. (He isn’t supposed to know.) Network head Brandon (Andrew Scott, as blandly discomfiting as his Moriarty on “Sherlock”) assures her that it is “within the Writers Guild agreement,” but that it is also a secret — which will account for a lot of comedy going forward, secrets and lies being the very stuff of the form. “AI is really extraordinary,” he tells Valerie. “After all, it picked you.”

It’s also created a wholly generic multicamera sitcom, “How’s That?,” in which Valerie’s character, Beth, as she describes it, “runs a cute, charming old New England B&B with the help of her hunk nephew, Bo — so Beth and Bo, B&B.” (“Viewers want a break from the complicated confusing storylines of all these dark streaming shows,” says a network exec.) Her eager supporting cast has no idea that the series is being written by anything other than its human faces, unhappily married couple Josh (John Early) and Mary (Abbi Jacobson). Josh, who thinks of himself as “the voice of women of a certain age,” is precious about the jokes he manages to get into the script; Mary couldn’t care less. Untalented writing assistant Marco (Tony Macht) only wants “to get, like, a really nice house.” The AI, meanwhile, is personified to the cast and crew, who know nothing about it, as someone named “Al,” who “works remotely.”

One by one, the old company is introduced into the new season, Valerie finds Jane (Laura Silverman), her former documentarian, working as a cashier at Trader Joe’s, having tired of scuffling as a filmmaker, “begging people to care about the things that I cared about.” When Valerie lets it slip that her new series is AI-generated — “but don’t tell anyone ‘cause that’s a secret” — Jane is inspired to pick up her camera again. Lance Barber will eventually rejoin as screenwriter Paulie G., Valerie’s old nemesis. Robert Michael Morris, who played Mickey, Valerie’s hairdresser and best friend, in earlier seasons, passed away in 2017; Jack O’Brien, as Tommy, occupies a version of that space here.

Valerie may be only moderately successful, but she isn’t a hack. She has an Emmy for “Seeing Red,” the drama at the center of Season 2. She pushes back against the costumer (Benito Skinner) who wants to put her in a caftan. She knows her craft and is nominally proud of belonging to a union. She’s not a diva, but she has her pride. And that she is loyal, even when it does her no good, makes her easy to like. Thrust half-wittingly onto this cutting edge — being the first in an AI comedy, Mark tells her, “is like saying, ‘I was the first one to eat an arm in the Donner Party’” — she is wholly sympathetic, and, eventually, as things bend toward horror in a last-act revelation, a hero.

Though the subject is serious, the approach this time is light and farcical. Partially abandoning the documentary aesthetic of its predecessors — the first season had the look of amateur video, and the second of guerrilla filmmaking — much of this season is shot as a conventional, non-meta television show, allowing us access to private conversations and meetings without having to account for Jane and her crew, or requiring the players to act as if they’re being watched. Paradoxically, without pretending to reality, it makes some things more real.

Playing himself, director James Burrows, whom Valerie convinces to helm her pilot, notes that the jokes AI writes might come fast but are never better than obvious. “Surprising only comes from a group of writers huddled in a corner beating themselves up to beat out a better show,” he says. And just as Valerie is not a character an algorithm could produce, Kudrow is not an actor a machine could ever imagine. She’s no Tilly Norwood, or Tilly Norwood at 60, or Tilly Norwood with quirks applied. There’s no one like her— other than her — for the learning machines to scrape.

You should never settle for “good enough” when better, or best, is available. But that choice is on you.

One man’s trash is another man’s treasure—or in this case, one Disney fan’s favorite film is another reviewer’s reason to rage online. Even some of the most iconic animated classics haven’t escaped the wrath of one-star reviews, with critics calling out everything from plot holes to questionable character choices.

Think you can see past the roasting and still recognize the movies? From timeless favorites to a few you might have forgotten, these brutally honest reviews put your memory of Disney movies to the test.

Take the quiz below and see if you can get a perfect score by matching each scathing review to the right film:

How did you do? Whether your own Disney rankings lined up with the one-star reviews or led you completely astray, there are plenty more quizzes to test your knowledge. Share this one with your friends and see if they can beat your score!

Box Office Bummers

Some Disney movies don’t just get roasted in one-star reviews—they also struggled to find an audience when they first hit theaters. While a few of these films have since earned cult followings, their initial box office runs tell a very different story.

Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001) follows Milo on an adventure to uncover the sunken city, standing out for its bold visual style and action-packed approach. But when it came out, it didn’t quite catch on with audiences—especially with major competition at the time, including Shrek (2001).

The film ultimately didn’t perform as Disney had hoped, and its disappointing returns led to canceled plans for follow-ups and related projects as well as an estimated $54 million loss at the box office. What’s interesting, though, is how its reputation has shifted over time. Today, Atlantis is often revisited as an underrated gem, with fans appreciating its animation and nostalgic appeal. 

Meanwhile, The Black Cauldron (1985) aimed to bring a darker, fantasy-driven story to Disney animation, following a group of unlikely allies as they set out to stop the evil Horned King, with elements pulled from Welsh mythology. Based on The Chronicles of Prydain, the film underwent major changes during production, including cuts that impacted its final story and pacing.

As the first animated film to feature Dolby sound and early computerized animation, it pushed into new territory, but that didn’t translate into success at the box office. The film struggled to connect with fans and ended up as one of the studio’s more notable financial disappointments, bringing in just $21 million—less than half of its $44 million budget. Still, it holds a unique place in Disney history and has gained a second life among viewers who value its moody atmosphere and departure from typical Disney formulas.

Clearly, not every Disney film was destined for success. But that just makes these one-star reviews all the more fun to decode.

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