Movie Reviews
‘F*ck My Son!’ Review: Can a Movie Be Gross Enough That AI Isn’t the Most Disgusting Thing About It?
The funniest thing about Todd Rohal’s “Fuck My Son!” — alas, one of the only funny things about this impressively sick but tiresomely self-amused celebration of bad taste — is that the most controversial aspect of the movie isn’t its title, or its demented story about a gun-packing mother who forces a random woman to have sex with her monstrous son (imagine if the Sarlaac from “Star Wars” had a baby with the alien from “Mac and Me,” nipples and boils everywhere, diaper oozing wet shit, just a gaping hole full of hotdogs where his dick should be), or even how brutally it treats the sex slave’s elementary school-age daughter, Belinda, who will be cooked in an oven if her mom doesn’t comply with their captor’s demands).
No, the most controversial aspect of “Fuck My Son!” is that it uses some very crude and obvious AI for what amounts to roughly 90 seconds of screen time. A number of festival viewers were outraged. I guess some things are just too obscene for audiences to stomach.
Like everything else in Rohal’s film, the AI-afflicted scenes are designed to triple-underline their own grotesqueness. A prologue modeled after an AMC theater pre-show (“No jacking off in the theater,” “Do not pee or crap in your seat,” “Our restrooms are now closed”) is filled out with inhuman crowds, while the characters from Bernice’s favorite show — a “Veggietales”-esque abomination called “The Meatie Mates” — pop up throughout the movie in increasingly artificial form, their every appearance better reflecting the ghoulish slop that today’s children eagerly consume on YouTube.
As in Radu Jude’s recent “Dracula,” the technology isn’t used as a shortcut (if anything, incorporating AI made Rohal’s work considerably more difficult), but rather as a commentary on the soullessness of modern “art.” Reactive to a world in which people have become more offended by form than content, “Fuck My Son!” exists to explore the efficacy of shock value at a time when image-making itself has become so repulsive and society has ingested its own memetic sickliness as a sign of the future.
Rohal wants to push back against the numbing dystopia of Project 2025, so he’s cooked up a collective experience — one that will tour across the country, advertising its lack of streaming availability as its greatest hook — designed to startle us back to our senses and restore the sheer joy of transgression. Little other joy is on offer (either within this movie, or outside of it), but “Fuck My Son!” feels like it was only made to indulge in the fact that it still could be.
So while I may not have particularly enjoyed the experience of watching it, I have no choice but to admit that it does, indeed, exist. Critics are raving “This is a real thing that people made.” Put it on the poster.
Of course, this material didn’t originate with Rohal; an idea as pure and profound as “Fuck My Son!” has to come from somewhere. Usually it’s from a divine vision or the liquid meth they sell at the front of America’s finest gas stations. In this case, it came from a graphic novel: Johnny Ryan’s “Fuck My Son: A Tale of Terror, Issue One,” which Rohal has faithfully adapted like a sacred text. And that’s just as well, because the movie has no interest in making such intellectual property more palatable to a wider audience.
Either you want to see a movie called “Fuck My Son!” or you don’t (“It’s just garbage,” the director has said. “It’s made by trashmen for trashmen”), and Rohal’s film is squarely targeted at the people who might conceivably pay for a ticket; the aforementioned pre-show offers viewers the choice of “Perv-o-Vision” glasses that make all of the characters naked, or a “Nude Blok” edition for those who pray to “fill their lives with blissful ignorance and intolerance” (the film’s spirit all but requires comparisons to John Waters, even if its execution cleaves a lot closer to early James Gunn).
The world of “Fuck My Son!” is a small and seedy place where every mote of innocence only exists as an invitation for perversion, or worse. We first meet Sandi (Tipper Newton, recalling Sarah Silverman in her ability to conflate innocence with repulsion) as she takes little Bernice (Kynzie Colmery) dress shopping, where — of course — a peeper is spying on all of the dressing rooms. Shot like an ’80s Z-picture but always self-indulgent enough to make clear that it’s in on the joke, the movie soon introduces its leading ladies to an overbearing mother (a Chris Farley-esque Robert Longstreet, growling in drag) who’s fallen and can’t get up.
But it’s a trap! The mother lures Sandi and Bernice to her van, knocks them out, and takes them to the remote farmhouse where she lives with her mutant son Fabian (Steve Little). There’s so much sex in the world, and she can’t stand the thought that her sweet child will never get to have any of it. The mother wheels Fabian in, places Bernice nearby with a front-row view, and — wait for it — demands that Sandi fuck her son. Bareback. “Person to Person” star George Sample III eventually shows up to round out the cast, but that’s really about all there is to it. As positioned to Sandi, the terms couldn’t be simpler: “The sooner you fuck my son, the sooner I’ll let your daughter out of the oven.” What’s a mother to do?
Rohal pays lip-service to the idea that parents will do anything for their children, but this movie is much less interested in developing its themes than it is in watching Sandi fish around Fabian’s innards for his Lovecraftian penis (spoiler alert: she finds it, and the massive appendage becomes a veritable character in its own right). Is it gross? Very.
But the grossness doesn’t scale at a particularly engaging rate, and while Rohal’s agenda required a certain amount of cheekiness to validate the fun of its own shock value, it’s hard to overlook the reality that “Fuck My Son!” is far less disturbing than the movie promised by its title. For all of its eldritch horrors (Fabian’s penis eventually penetrates almost everything you can imagine, with child rape being the most obvious red line that Rohal won’t cross), this heightened story is too “fun” to be even half as fucked up as the things we read in the headlines every day, and not funny enough for its increasingly whacked out “WTF”-ness to be enjoyable on its own terms. Things get wild because they can, and then slaphappy because they can’t be anything else.
When a title card pops up that reads: “The Ending: Part I,” the joke is that a movie with so little substance would require something as pompous as a multi-tiered epilogue.
What meaning there is behind “Fuck My Son!” is easy enough to understand: Enjoy this kind of garbage while you can, because it won’t be long before late night TV hosts are locked in jail, Donald Trump starts talking about Eddington as if it were a real town he saw on Fox News, and everyone who saw “One Battle After Another” is labeled as a card-carrying member of Antifa (the “A” in “AMC A-List” stands for “Anarchy”). Appreciate when slop could still be a display of defiance instead, and not just the visual language of cultural defeat. See “Fuck My Son!” not because it’s good, but rather because it refuses to pretend that it isn’t bad. If only that argument were enough to convince me that it shouldn’t have been better.
Grade: C-
“Fuck My Son!” opens at the IFC Center in New York City on Thursday, October 16, before traveling to other theaters around the country. Its full touring schedule can be found here.
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Movie Reviews
Review: Ian Tuason’s ‘Undertone’
Vague Visages’ Undertone review contains minor spoilers. Ian Tuason’s 2025 movie features Nina Kiri, Adam DiMarco and Michèle Duquet. Check out the VV home page for more film criticism, movie reviews and film essays.
Sound design is paramount in horror. Without it, things that go bump in the night simply won’t. Creative sound design can make a great movie truly legendary. Consider Blair Witch (2016), whose unique and expertly constructed soundscapes took it from a throwaway requel to a nightmare-inducing must-watch. Undertone, the feature debut from Canadian writer-director Ian Tuason, is being marketed as “the scariest movie you’ll ever hear,” which is a gamble considering genre cinema is built on terrifying imagery. Although that pull-quote might put off snooty hardcore fans, it genuinely might be true.
Undertone’s action is confined to a single location — the dated childhood home in which Evy (Nina Kiri, phenomenal) watches her elderly mother (Michèle Duquet as Mama) slowly fade away in real time. While trying to keep the dying woman alive, the protagonist records a creepypasta-themed podcast with Justin (Adam DiMarco), who lives across the pond in London. Because of the time difference, the duo typically records at 3 a.m. aka “the witching hour.” Given their subject matter, it’s unsurprising that Justin, whom Evy snarks is a “Santa Claus believer,” frequently gets creeped out. His co-host, a proud skeptic, is much harder to shake.
Undertone Review: Related — Review: Corin Hardy’s ‘Whistle’
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As a result, Undertone never feels hokey or derivative. By focusing almost entirely on Evy, Tuason takes a massive risk. Indeed, for most of the movie, she’s the only character onscreen, with Mama, as she’s billed, unresponsive upstairs in bed. The first-time filmmaker consistently draws eyes to the dark, empty spaces behind Evy — particularly an empty doorway that feels like it’s encroaching upon her — as she records with Justin, the camera creeping around corners or simply hanging around back there, as though somebody is always watching. And yet, nothing happens when one expects it to, which only adds to the unnerving atmosphere and increasingly excruciating tension. Shots are frequently tilted at bizarre angles, which adds to the impression that everything is slightly off kilter.
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Tuason infuses Undertone with Catholic guilt, right down to a bottle of Irish whiskey that Evy — a possible alcoholic — pulls out of a liquor cabinet in a moment of desperation. The filmmaker’s suffocating feature debut adeptly tackles thorny themes of postpartum depression and guilt, and all while stoking a constricting feeling of loneliness for the protagonist. The atmosphere starts off chilly, and by Undertone’s closing moments, it’s downright ice-cold. The movie cleverly emulates the effect of wearing noise-cancelling headphones each time Evy puts hers on, which forces the audience to focus solely on what she hears. The soundscapes are truly exceptional: layered, considered and beautifully composed to capture every little crackle and hum, while repetitive recordings — seemingly full of hidden meanings — similarly encourage viewers to pay closer attention, which makes Undertone’s darkest moments hit even harder.
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The great tragedy of Undertone is that poor Evy unwittingly invites something even worse into her mother’s home, which already feels haunted thanks to the almost-dead woman upstairs, as well as the wealth of troubled childhood memories seeping out of its walls. There’s a wonderful piquancy to the movie — Tuason takes his time ratcheting up the tension, but Undertone doesn’t let up once it gets going. Moments of respite are few and far between, with Evy’s growing isolation becoming increasingly obvious to the audience, if not to her. It’s tough to capture the idea of feeling unsafe in your own home, but Undertone manages to achieve this without any obvious jump scares or visual shocks. It’s all about sound, including during the movie’s stomach-churning final moments, which play out against a black screen, further solidifying the power of sound.
Undertone Review: Related — Review: Kurtis David Harder’s ‘Influencers’ Undertone released digitally on April 14, 2026.
Joey Keogh (@JoeyLDG) is a writer from Dublin, Ireland with an unhealthy appetite for horror movies and Judge Judy. In stark contrast with every other Irish person ever, she’s straight edge. Hello to Jason Isaacs. Thank you for reading film criticism, movie reviews and film reviews at Vague Visages.
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Categories: 2020s, 2026 Film Reviews, 2026 Horror Reviews, Featured, Film, Folk Horror, Horror, Movies, Psychological Horror, Science Fiction, Supernatural Horror, Thriller
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Movie Reviews
Movie Review – Wasteman (2025)
Wasteman, 2025.
Directed by Cal McMau.
Starring David Jonsson, Tom Blyth, Alex Hassell, Neil Linpow, Paul Hilton, Corin Silva, Layton Blake, Jack Barker, Fred Muthui, Lunga Skosana, Robert Rhodes, Keaton Ancona-Francis, and Cole Martin.
SYNOPSIS:
Follows parolee Taylor whose fresh start hopes are jeopardized by cellmate Dee’s arrival. As Dee takes Taylor under his wing, a vicious attack tests their bond, forcing Taylor to choose between protecting Dee and his own parole chances.
Backing up its intentions and messaging with real spliced-in cell phone footage of rowdy, uncontrollable prison behavior in an understaffed British penitentiary, director Cal McMau’s narrative debut feature Wasteman (from a screenplay by Eoin Doran and Hunter Andrews) is often purposely, effectively disorienting. That’s not merely limited to be incorporated leaked footage (this is a prison that, in some respects, is more of a recreational facility than one for rehabilitation, since the guards are in such low quantity, all while the incarcerated are rather easily smuggling drugs through drone technology while typically unbothered in their jail cells playing video games in between hard partying or fighting one another), but the brutality as well, with claustrophobic, tilted camera angles and a shakiness that lends a visceral grime to that physicality.
The exception to this disorder seems to be rising star David Jonsson’s Taylor, still using drugs but also consistently avoiding any such drama. He is quiet and timid to the point where he not only comes across empathetic, but one wonders how he became locked up alongside an otherwise degenerate bunch. It turns out that due to a new law going into effect, some prisoners will be released on good behavior, which, in Taylor’s case, means that he is far from a problem here despite abusing drugs. Nevertheless, he is nervously excited about the possibility of reconnecting with his teenage son, even if a phone call with his separated ex-partner makes it clear that she is firmly against such a reunion.
There also wouldn’t be a film here without a wrench being thrown into that impending release back into society, which is where the introduction of new cellmate Dee (a manipulative and psychotic Tom Blyth) enters as an inmate more concerned with taking over the in-house drug dealing hierarchy rather than fronting anything remotely close to good behavior. By extension, this jeopardizes Taylor’s chances of being released. That’s also not to say Dee doesn’t have his friendly moments, such as letting Taylor use his phone to reconnect with his son on social media.
Where Wasteman makes up for in familiar plotting is its sense of authenticity, which comes through not only in the previously mentioned cuts to rowdy cell phone footage but also in the decision to work with a charity and round out the rest of the ensemble with formerly incarcerated individuals who are now reformed. One gets a full sense of the microcosmic incarceration society, the pecking order, and just how low on the rung Taylor is, since he isn’t like most of the others. There is also a full-blown riot at one point that parallels and mirrors the clips of authentic footage. It’s scripted, somehow almost feeling as dangerous.
When Wasteman inevitably comes down to a bond tested between Taylor and Dee, that too is less about thrills and more to do with capturing rawness; part of a brawl here contains one character vomiting on another, driving home just how dirty, literally and figuratively, the film gets in its unflinching depictions of life on the inside for this particular penitentiary. It’s fiction with a dash of documentary, each with bracing importance. It’s enough to ensure the film doesn’t go to waste for its minor shortcomings.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=embed/playlist
Movie Reviews
Movie Reviews: Feel-good Films Are Just the Ticket – GoWEHO.com
Ryan Gosling in Sony Pictures’ ‘Project Hail Mary’
Now in Theaters
“Project Hail Mary”
(Amazon – MGM Pictures)
Rated PG-13
“I put the ‘Not’ in ‘astronaut!’
When was the last time you walked out of movie theater feeling not only better about humanity but also our future?
Based on the revered 2021 Andy Weir novel of the same name, and adapted for the screen by Drew Goddard (“Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” “Daredevil” and “The Martian”), “Project Hail Mary” is an ingeniously crafted and perfectly paced sci-fi drama about a biologist and school teacher who wakes up from a coma aboard a spacecraft that’s on a mission to save all life on Earth. As both the star and co-producer, it took Ryan Gosling seven years to bring this vastly entertaining instant classic to the big screen, and it was so worth the wait.
Admittedly, I wasn’t thrilled with the trailers or even the tone that seemed to give ABC afterschool-special vibes. But after seeing it in its entirety, everything about it blew me away.
Who Are We?
Bursting with fascinating and enthralling moral quandaries, it makes viewers question themselves and our species. And refreshingly, “Project Hail Mary” is a magnificent “grand idea” kind of story that seamlessly weaves themes of self-preservation, obligation, the intrinsic meaning of humanity and most powerfully (and surprisingly) friendship. You will come away with fresh personal revelations and deep, self-examinations that you probably never intended to ponder, which is the beauty of epic sci-fi tales like this. They force us to muse about the kinds of societies we want to live in.
And with the wondrous inclusion of Gosling’s all too real co-star Rocky, I became so emotionally gripped, that I was close to tears a few times. I just love it when a film not only challenges but surpasses whatever preconceived notions you may have held about it beforehand.
Intensely moving, meticulously thoughtful, endlessly nuanced and massively entertaining, it’s easy to see why “Project Hail Mary” is already considered one of the best films of the year.
-@TheAndreKelley
.
ONLY IN THEATERS
“You, Me & Tuscany”
(Will Packer Productions)
Rated PG-13
“You pretended to be the White Italian man’s fiancé?
But ended up catching feelings for the Black Italian cousin-brother?”
As expected, “You, Me & Tuscany” is really, really cute. Halle Bailey (“The Little Mermaid,” “Grown-ish”) and Rege-Jean Page (“Black Bag,” “Bridgerton”) are initially combative, though there’s little doubt as to where the two are headed in this charming and delightfully executed story. Writer-producer Will Packer (“Think Like A Man,” “Girls Trip”) outdid himself in this colorful, feel-good, family-friendly, classic comedy of errors.
Glorious Tuscan Countryside
And while making excellent use of the lush and intoxicating Tuscan countryside, what I found curiously effective was that the dynamic of the ensemble became as big a part of the film as the romance itself. Surprisingly, I was completely caught off-guard as those familial aspects developed. And though Rege-Jean Page is not my cup of tea (too skinny, too pretty) as a lead, I now see why women react to him the way they do. He’s a very good dramatic actor, he holds attention quite easily on the big screen and of course, that face-card would never be declined.
Also, with Black women now becoming the most educated, economically-empowered and increasingly, well-traveled demographic of society, Packer smartly captures that zeitgeist with this well-produced and topically focused vacation vehicle.
Notably, his critically-acclaimed and commercially successful “Girls Trip” was domestically based whereas Tuscany makes faithful and fantastic use of the kinds of village locales and gorgeous countrysides we’d all like to visit. So what better way to explore and find parts of ourselves while also falling in love than abroad?
A Welcome Genre Update
And finally, be it his television shows or movies, I sincerely love Will Packer’s upscale treatment and desperately needed update of the romantic-comedy genre. Typically, the majority are White and situation-based, whereas this one was Black-centered and in an international setting. So, those aspects alone I genuinely enjoyed.
I’m a sucker for thoughtful production with Black folks looking great, being well-lit and shot properly. We don’t often get passport-driven international fare with a wonderful balance of warmth, humor and heart like this, so don’t wait to stream it. “You, Me & Tuscany” is well worth the trip.
@YOUMETUSCANY
#YOUMETUSCANY
.
NOW IN THEATERS
“Hoppers”
(Pixar) Rated PG
“Let’s squish the humans!”
Impressively, within mere minutes of its opening we get a solidly hilarious understanding of Mabel Tanaka’s deeply feisty affinity for animals, and her incessant, almost uncontrollable desire to help them.
Voiced delightfully by Piper Curda (Disney Channel’s “A.N.T. Farm”) as the willful and resourceful protagonist, she makes quick use of new technology that allows her to infiltrate and talk to the animal kingdom.
John Hamm (“Bridesmaids,” “Mad Men”) is fantastic as her arch nemesis, the town’s preening and vainglorious, Gavin Newsom-esque Mayor Jerry, who’s behind the ominous threat to the very habitat that Mabel and her friends are fighting to defend.
State-of-the-art Animation
And true to the magnificent legacy of Pixar’s usual flawless execution (“Hoppers” is their 30th film) the state-of-the-art animation is absolutely gorgeous and intriguing to look at. Much of it, especially with regard to the larger animals, is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. You almost want to reach out and touch them. The hair and body textures are next-level fascinating and so lifelike, it’s as if you’re watching plush animals come to life in this brilliantly spooled sci-fi comedy.
And don’t get it twisted nor let the animation aspects of talking animals fool you. There are some very clear (as well as oblique) nods to our current reality that make this more than what it appears on the surface. Ingeniously, it imparts universal themes of cooperation, community and inclusion, as well as a plethora of life-lessons we want all young people exposed to.
Stay for the Credits
Unfortunately, there’s no usual Pixar short at the beginning of the movie and like any Marvel film, I strongly urge you to stay for the end credits. Witty, warm and a bit whimsical, “Hoppers” is brimming with hilarious and heartfelt laughs and lessons.
And with everything that’s currently happening in our world, there’s never been a better time to enjoy what’s going on in someone else’s.
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