RED ONE (2024) directed by Jake Kasdan, stars Dwayne Johnson and Chris Evans, is an urban fantasy Christmas action-thriller, fitting neatly into no known genre, which will perhaps be enjoyable to anyone willing to grant the somewhat silly premise, and perhaps not to anyone unwilling.

This film enjoys a remarkably high audience score but a remarkably low score from the establishment film critics. This is usually a sign that the film is normal and enjoyable, not perverse nor woke.

But the film did not seem normal to me, by which I mean, I can think of no other urban fantasy Christmas action-thriller. As such, this film runs the risk of falling between the stools. Action film fans might well pan it for its fantastical elements, whereas fans of Christmas family films might well pan it for its untraditional, even disrespectful, handling of common elements of the Santa Claus fairy tale.

As for Christians, we have long ago ceased to expect any mention of Christ or Christmas in a Christmas movie, aside from Linus quoting scripture in a Charlie Brown telly special from two generations ago.

Regardless, this filmgoer found the film perfectly enjoyable: nor were any elements visible which might provoke the establishment film critics. I cannot explain the high audience score nor the low critic score.

In the film, Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson plays Callum Drift, a hardboiled six-foot-five elf serving a remarkably trim and athletic Santa as his chief of North Pole security.

Drift wishes to retire, as the Naughty List grows ever longer, and his faith in mankind fails. However, even as he is preparing his resignation letter, he sees Santa’s workshop assaulted by a black ops team of kidnappers. Draft gives chase, but the evildoers elude him.

Santa’s workshop is hidden beneath a holographic forcefield, but the secret international body charged with keeping the peace between the various mythical entities, the M.O.R.A (Mythological Oversight and Restoration Authority) soon discovers a hacker who broke into their security and betrayed them: gambling lowlife and deadbeat dad Jack O’Malley, played with evident zest by Chris Evans.

We are treated to a scene of O’Malley picking up his juvenile-delinquent son after school, where the boy got detention for monkeying with the school computer records: the father thereupon gives him a stern talking-to, that is, by cautioning him to cover his tracks better, and trust no confederates.

This is after we see O’Malley stealing candy from a baby, just so the audience harbors no doubt that this is not Captain America.

In short order O’Malley is mugged by MORA agents and brought in for questioning: not knowing who hired him, O’Malley nonetheless planted spyware on his paymaster, hence knows his location, but nothing else. The O’Malley and Drift are forced to team up against the better judgment of both: shenanigans ensue.

The pair must battle evil snowmen, sneak into a monster-infested castle, and confront an eerie player-piano playing the Nutcracker suite perched in the middle of an empty, fog-bound highway in Germany.

In one particularly well-done scene, O’Malley and his juvenile-delinquent son are miniaturized and trapped in snow-globes meant to imprison the unrepentant. When he sees his son terrified, O’Malley’s fatherly instincts come to the fore: he confesses his mistakes, he asks forgiveness, and he vows to amend his ways. Any mainstream critic not familiar with threefold steps of traditional Christian confession might not grasp the significance.

ikewise, anyone unfamiliar with the less well known nooks and crannies of Old World Christmas lore might not recognize the figures chosen to be the heavies here: Gryla is an Icelandic ogress who eats naughty children at Christmas time, while Krampus, from Romania, is goat-horned fork-tongued helper to Saint Nicholas, who punishes naughty children by birching them with a rod, or stuffing them in to a bag for abduction or drowning.

No version of these tales ever took root in America Christmas tradition — being rather alien to the American spirit — albeit within the last ten years, as our spirit is being lost, among the anti-Christmas crowd and low-grade horror directors Krampus has gained popularity. The version of Krampus is this film is rather charming in his own dark way, which may have the unfortunate side-effect the augmenting the popularity of the anti-Christmas or low-grade horror film versions.

All three characters, Drift, O’Malley, and even Krampus have uncomplex but satisfying character arcs: Drift regains his faith in humanity after O’Malley turns over a new leaf. This character growth, as stated, is uncomplex, as befits an action movie, but satisfying, as befits a Christmas movie.

And the rule of fairy-tale was strictly followed, which is, namely, that when you are told to touch nothing, and you touch something, disaster ensues.

The tale is set in our modern world, but with certain enclaves of the mythological world scattered here and there, hidden behind mist and illusion. This conceit of a hidden world within our own is familiar and beloved trope of the genre.

The special effects deceived my eye: to me they looks smooth and seamless. And the props and settings and art direction in general seemed a blend of gothic and cyberpunk Victoriana, as befits a high-tech version of Christmasland.

The fantastical elements of the movie are well handled, by which I mean the abilities, and also the limitations, of every magical power or magical tool is briefly but succinctly made clear: the audience should be no more bewildered than Jack O’Malley. Anything not explained in dialog was clear enough in how it was used. Of note was the “reality adjustment” wristband used by Drift, which allowed him to turn rock’em-sock’em robots or matchbox cars real.

There was also a clever bit of by-play which allowed the befuddled characters to recognize each other despite being bedeviled by shapechangers.

The theme of the piece is appropriately straightforward: no rogue is beyond redemption, nor any cynic either. This is as befits as thoroughly secular version of an urban fantasy Christmas action thriller comedy, I suppose.

As part of the conceit of the film, just as jolly fat Santa is here fit and hardboiled military type (the marine version of Saint Nick, as it were) so too is his miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer here replaced by a high-tech flying behemoth pulled by monstrous deer-titans.

I have no complaint about this film in part because I was expecting it to be terrible, when, in fact, it was enjoyable good clean fun. Nothing lewd, crude or shocking was involved.

Still, it was a good, clean, fun movie, starring charming actors and actresses, with thrilling action scenes, funny comedic bits, great deadpan acting from Dwayne Johnson — who, let it be known — just plays Dwayne Johnson being himself, and wry snark from Chris Evans.

Christmas Specials involve the birth of Christ, and Xmas Specials involve Santa Claus. Here, Santa is called “Saint Nicholas of Myra” once in one line — which is the closest this otherwise entirely secular-Xmas film comes to acknowledging the meaning of Christmas.

You can watch Red One now on Amazon Prime Video here.

Originally published here.

This article contains spoilers for the movie “Mufasa: The Lion King.”

“Mufasa: The Lion King” is a prequel to the animated 1994 movie and its 2019 remake. Directed by Barry Jenkins and featuring songs by Lin-Manuel Miranda, the film traces how Mufasa came to be king of the Pride Lands, and why Scar ended up so bitter and vengeful toward his older brother.

“There’s so many things that you get to play with here, but you have to be careful because people are so emotional about the original, and the reactions are going to come from every direction,” said screenwriter Jeff Nathanson. “There were probably 10 other things that were left out and 10 other things we could’ve done. But the original movie really mattered to all of us, and we tried to honor it as best we could.”

Nathanson walked The Times through the questions “Mufasa” answers about the original “Lion King” movie:

How did Mufasa and Scar become brothers?

The movie recounts how, as a cub, Mufasa was traveling with his parents when he was suddenly swept away by river rapids in a flash flood. The orphan is then discovered by another young lion, Taka, who convinces his mother to take him into their pride. (As discussed in more detail below, Taka was Scar’s name before his fall from grace.)

“Mufasa’s worldview, compassion and empathy — all of these things felt very different than what you’d expect from a king,” said Nathanson. “I thought maybe his upbringing wasn’t as traditional as one might think. What happened to him, and how did he end up being somebody who was a wise and powerful leader, but also such a great father?”

But Taka’s father, a king who prioritizes royal lineage, isn’t pleased, referring to Mufasa as the “stray” and forcing him to be raised by the lionesses. Nevertheless, Taka is thrilled to have a sibling and a new best friend, and sweetly vows to protect their bond forever.

“It’s very much a love story between these two brothers,” added Nathanson. “We wanted to really capture what it’s like when you’re young and you have somebody who understands you more than anybody else. It’s bittersweet because you know what’s going to happen and where it’s all headed, but at least for this moment in time, everything was OK.”

Mufasa and Simba in the 1994 movie “The Lion King.”

(Disney)

What did Mufasa’s cliffside climb once mean?

Fans of the 1994 movie know the moment well: in the midst of a chaotic stampede set off by Scar, Mufasa attempts to climb up a cliff and calls out to his brother to help pull him up. Instead, Scar digs his claws into his paws and flings him to his death.

The interaction that ends Mufasa’s life in “The Lion King” is actually what saves him in “Mufasa.” Taka first places his claws into Mufasa’s paws to pull him up from the river and narrowly evade some hungry crocodiles. (Later on, the two cubs even make jokes about stampedes.)

“It’s a signature and very traumatic memory of the original, and we wanted to lean in and say, this didn’t always have the same connotation,” said Nathanson of redefining the visual. “We’re trying to play with your memories and your expectations, giving people enough of what you know and came for but also surprise you with new things.”

Sarabi, Mufasa, Rafiki and Taka in “Mufasa: The Lion King.”

(Disney/Disney Enterprises)

How did Mufasa and Taka fall out?

“Mufasa” outlines how their brotherly bond wasn’t fractured in just one way. Because Mufasa, as an unwelcome “stray,” was forced to be raised by the pride’s lionesses, he grew close to Taka’s mother and accompanied her while hunting. At one point, he saves her from an attack by another pride — a gesture that finally wins the favor of Taka’s father. (Taka, who was nearby when his mother was being attacked, fled in fear.)

Under threat from that violent competing pride, Taka‘s father commands him to flee for his safety, with Mufasa as his protector. They meet a wandering lioness, Sarabi (Tiffany Boone), and though both boys fall in love with her, she eventually favors Mufasa. Taka — having been passed over for Mufasa by his mother, father and crush — feels too deeply betrayed by the brother he took in all those years ago, the one who now has all of what he believes should be his.

“It was important to Barry that it was something that wasn’t abrupt, but evolved and layered,” said Nathanson. “Barry is very intentional with his visuals, and there are great shots of Taka just watching Mufasa with his mother, and you can start to see the wheel spinning even then. We hoped it would build for the audience over the course of the movie.”

Young Rafiki in “Mufasa: The Lion King.”

(Disney)

Where did Rafiki come from?

“Mufasa” also shows that the wise mandrill Rafiki (John Kani), who was born with a limp, was previously ostracized by a troop of baboons because his visions predicted that their home would be repeatedly attacked by a cheetah. Even though Rafiki often helps his fellow primates by healing them and leading them to water in the dry season, they believe his powers are nefarious and vote to banish him.

Rafiki then crosses paths with Mufasa, Taka, Sarabi and her familiar, flying protector Zazu (Preston Nyman), and the five of them proceed as a motley crew of wanderers. “They all only have a few scenes together, but they’re lovely moments because you see how bonded they all are once they find each other,” said Nathanson. While they’re on the road, Rafiki finds his iconic walking stick and carries it all the way to their destination.

Scar and Simba in the 1994 movie “The Lion King.”

(Disney)

How did Taka get that scar?

In a malicious move against Mufasa, Taka tips off their group’s location to the leader of the violent pride, who wrongfully believes that Mufasa killed his son. The leader follows them to the peaceful Pride Lands and goes toe-to-toe with Mufasa, but just as the leader is about to strike, Taka remembers the time he didn’t rescue his mother and, in a moment of courage, leaps in front of Mufasa to take the leader’s attack on his face. The blow results in a massive scar.

“He’s betrayed his brother but, at this moment, he’s redeeming himself in some way,” said Nathanson. “A lot of thought went into it, and we needed it to be something that felt organic to the story. There were other versions we played around with, but when we got to this one, we all agreed that it felt right.”

Mufasa, Sarabi and Zazu in “Mufasa: The Lion King.”

(Disney)

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How did Mufasa become king of the Pride Lands?

When the violent pride is defeated, the resident animals of the Pride Lands are thankful to Mufasa for uniting them against the intruders and call for him to serve as their king. Mufasa initially turns down their offer, as he’s not of royal blood, but Rafiki explains: “It is not what you were, it is what you have become.”

As for Taka, who led the enemy to their refuge: Zazu calls for his banishment, but Mufasa vows always to give him a place in the kingdom, even if he can never say his name again. “Then call me Scar, so I will never forget what I have done,” Taka tells him.

“If you were to watch the films back-to-back, it allows you to understand why Scar is sitting in that cage with such a psychotic anger,” said Nathanson. “He truly is of royal blood, and he’s still clinging to that notion after all these years. And certainly, we as filmmakers are saying, the blood is not enough, but the character is.”

Simba standing on Pride Rock in the 1994 movie “The Lion King.”

(Disney)

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How did Pride Rock come to be?

In the midst of that climactic battle, an earthquake hits the Pride Lands and a mountain shatters. What’s left is what fans of the original movie know as Pride Rock, the landing where the lion kings of the 1994 film address their subjects.

“In the script, Pride Rock was already there when they arrived,” said Nathanson, “and our production designer said, ‘What if, during the earthquake, it were to just pop down like that?’ It was just such a beautiful image and certainly a beautiful idea. And now, it’s one of my favorite little pieces of the movie.”

1 of 6 | Harris Dickinson and Nicole Kidman star in “Babygirl,” in theaters Dec. 25. Photo courtesy of A24

When Tensile begins a mentorship program for interns, Samuel (Harris Dickinson) pushes Romy’s buttons to get one-on-one time with her. His power plays unlock Romy’s repressed sexual desires and they begin an affair.

Playing power games may be inherent to many sexual relationships, so it’s not like one movie invented them, but it’s hard not to think about 9½ Weeks. In that notorious 1986 film, Mickey Rourke played a man who seduces a woman (Kim Basinger) with sex games involving food, spanking and blindfolds.

Still, Babygirl doesn’t play Romy as a cliche of a powerful businesswoman who really likes to be submissive in bed and experience the adrenaline of risking exposure.

Not that the affair compromises Romy’s success, either, although it could if Samuel reports her. She also starts to blur the lines of being submissive in private and at the office, but she doesn’t let it interfere with business decisions.

The love scenes between Kidman and Dickinson are revealing, but not gratuitous. They are vulnerable and uncomfortable rather than titillating.

The way writer-director Halina Reijn approaches consent is interesting and seems realistic. Samuel does insist on consent before continuing, which is a fantastic portrayal of obtaining verbal consent, though the conditions of Romy’s consent remain nebulous.

Romy makes it clear that Samuel’s power games make her uncomfortable. Agreeing to continue while feeling uncomfortable seems like it adds a level of duress.

It’s 80 minutes into the movie before Samuel and Romy even discuss using a safe word, which would give either party, but especially Romy, a way to end a session at her discretion. Yet, this is believable because Romy and Samuel are amateurs at this, so they’re figuring it out.

Samuel may play the dominant role, but he is in many respects just a poser. He is a young intern and very emotional when things don’t go his way.

It seems like Samuel is imitating what he thinks a Casanova would act like, but whenever Romy goes off script, Samuel seems to be at a loss for words. It’s not natural to him, either, though he thinks of some clever workplace games that make Romy play along.

He’s probably watched 9½ Weeks, too, or more likely just read the Wikipedia summary.

The Jacob character is the film’s most stereotypical.

Jacob is a loving husband who just can’t excite Romy. Romy tries to teach him to play games in bed, but Jacob doesn’t enjoy experimenting. It’s odd that a person whose job is in the arts would lack any creativity with his partner, but he’s entitled to have traditional desires, too.

The lack of monogamy is an unmitigated betrayal, as even submissive relationships should respect loyalty unless they’ve discussed and agreed to having an open relationship. The film eventually explores how a couple navigates compatibility, but Romy has to own hers first.

Individual choices the characters make in Babygirl will provoke discussions, and won’t be spoiled in this review. The positive is that the film does show Romy’s growth through the experience.

So, even if a viewer disagrees with part of the journey, the film makes its case for the value of those experiences. That makes it an engaging, provocative film.

Fred Topel, who attended film school at Ithaca College, is a UPI entertainment writer based in Los Angeles. He has been a professional film critic since 1999, a Rotten Tomatoes critic since 2001, and a member of the Television Critics Association since 2012 and the Critics Choice Association since 2023. Read more of his work in Entertainment.