Tag: Dialogue

Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice (2026) Review

On By troubledproductionsIn ReviewLeave a comment

Quick Synopsis: When a mobster uses a time machine to save his best friend from a deadly night, two versions of himself, a dangerous criminal conspiracy, and the woman they both love collide in a chaotic race to rewrite fate.

Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice (or M&N&N&A, pronounced *deep breath* Mandnandnanda) is a weird movie. Mainly because of how normal it is. You’d expect an action-comedy based around time travel would be weird and feature set-pieces and moments which you’ve never seen before, but it doesn’t. So whilst it is original, it does feel kind of like it’s wasted the premise. 90% of what happens in M&N&N&A could happen in any other film, and most of the remaining 10% could be very quickly rewritten to make sense in a standard film. I mean, this is a time travel action movie, and my first draft didn’t even mention the time travel aspects; that’s how little they actually matter. There’s very little discussion of paradoxes or any of the other stuff you expect from movies about the subject.

Wasted potential aside, it is fun. Vince Vaughn is clearly having a blast, but he is hampered by there only being a six-month gap between the two Nicks, so in terms of personality they’re very similar. I also have another issue with Nick’s character. The film states that he and Mike used to be really close. But the way they interact before we’re told that wouldn’t lead you to think that. They interact almost like strangers, and not in a “we have nothing to say to each other anymore, and it’s awkward” way.

On the subject of cast, James Marsden is good at what he does, but he does need to start adding a few more tools to his arsenal, or at the very least take on more diverse roles than what he’s currently doing. He’s not helped by how bland Mike is as a character. Nick, you can imagine Nick outside of this movie; there’s enough there to base a short story around him. Mike? You’ve got nothing to go on. He’s so bland he feels like the default protagonist in a poorly made GTA clone. Eiza González is good (but Alice is sorely underused, often treated more as a prop than a character), with great chemistry with Marsden and Vaughn. Keith David? Well, it’s always nice to see Keith David in things. He elevates everything he’s in.

Using Sheena Easton to soundtrack a fight scene is a great touch. It’s playful, unexpected, and fits the film’s offbeat sense of humour perfectly. That being said, the “action scene set to a country song” has become a bit of a cliché. It feels like every other crime film or action comedy has one now, and the novelty has definitely worn off. It’s the action version of “Horror film trailer set to a slowed-down female vocal cover of a pop song”. At this point, I’d happily support a moratorium on country-song action montages for a few years until they start feeling fresh again.

One thing that stood out was the conversation about Gilmore Girls. It’s such an oddly specific topic for characters to get into in the middle of a dangerous situation, and that’s exactly why it works. It’s almost Tarantino-esque; all it’s missing is superfluous n-words and shots of the actresses’ bare feet. I can understand why some viewers might find scenes like this frustrating, arguing that the characters are too nonchalant considering there’s a mob boss actively trying to kill them. But I never got that impression. The threat is always lingering beneath the surface, influencing their decisions even when they’re talking about something completely mundane (well, as mundane as the end of a relationship can be). It feels less like they’re ignoring the danger and more like they’re coping with it however they can. These are also characters who’ve spent a lot of time around violence and death, so the possibility of being murdered isn’t exactly a new concept to them. Their casual conversations feel like a believable defence mechanism rather than a lapse in the writing.

The playful dialogue doesn’t always work, though. There’s a scene in a convenience store that’s ridiculously dumb, featuring a store clerk dismissing the very notion of “sugar-free candy”. Even if, technically, candy has sugar, you’d know what they meant. It’s like saying, “Vegan sausage rolls can’t exist because sausage is meat. Idiot”, technically right, but overly pedantic, and you’d have to be an idiot to argue it. Mike not being aware of what chloroform is also feels like something that a real person wouldn’t say, especially considering his line of work.

The action scenes are fine, occasionally bloody, sometimes fun. But there’s nothing that stands out, nothing that you’d look at and think “oh, now that’s cool”. Not everything has to be John Wick, but I saw this film less than a week ago, and no action scenes have stuck with me.

The emotional high point is the group singing Oasis to a dying Nick. It’s an unexpectedly sincere moment in a film that’s otherwise full of jokes and criminal chaos, and it’s genuinely quite touching. Unfortunately, the scene slightly undercuts itself because Nick’s death takes just a little too long. The emotional impact starts to fade as the moment stretches on, and what begins as heartfelt edges towards awkward. Had it been trimmed, it probably would have landed much more effectively.

That sums up this movie. It keeps showing glimpses of greatness. With clever dialogue, flashes of invention, and occasional bursts of inspired action. But then it walks back that greatness with jokes that rely on inexplicable stupidity, or scenes that take one good idea and stretch it just a little too far (again, the sugar-free candy bit). Ultimately, it feels like a blockbuster. By which I mean, a movie you’d rent from Blockbuster back when they were still a thing.

The Invite (2026) Review

On By troubledproductionsIn ReviewLeave a comment

Quick Synopsis: A struggling married couple’s dinner with their free-spirited neighbours spirals into a provocative night of awkward revelations that forces them to confront the cracks in their relationship.

I love dinner parties in movies. They’re so fun to watch because they naturally allow group conversation, and there are certain unspoken etiquette rules that are always entertaining to watch get broken. If you want to expose your characters’ conflicts, put them around a dinner table and let what happens happen. The Invite takes that idea and makes it the entire concept.

It’s an English-language adaptation of the 2020 Spanish film The People Upstairs. It’s fairly obvious this is a remake of a non-American film. There’s something about it that feels slightly unconventional. It’s not just that it’s a summer movie driven by characters and dialogue rather than big action setpieces. It kind of feels like the cinematic equivalent of ordering food in a foreign country by speaking English with an accent. Familiar enough to understand, but just different enough to feel a little strange.

That sense of oddness is backed up by Olivia Wilde’s directing style. It’s incredibly static, with some weird blocking choices. Sometimes it feels like a play that we’re watching from the audience, sometimes it feels like someone just plonked a camera down randomly with no thought or care, and other times there’s a voyeuristic quality, as if we’ve wandered into a private argument we shouldn’t be witnessing. With that in mind, it’s difficult to criticise the film too harshly on a technical level because it’s clearly not trying to impress with flashy filmmaking. It’s aiming for a naturalistic style that occasionally feels awkward, but intentionally so.

What will chiefly inform your opinion on The Invite is the characters and the dialogue. The audience I saw it with loved it, and it’s easy to see why: it’s incredibly funny at times, with some truly incredible dialogue, and a cast who clearly enjoy bouncing off one another. The conversations have an energy that keeps scenes engaging even when very little is happening. That’s the issue, though: very little does happen. There’s almost no narrative progression for most of the runtime. Rather than pushing the characters into new emotional territory, the film spends much of its time having them elaborate on feelings they’ve already expressed. To be honest, it spends most of it catching up with the trailer. I’ve seen the trailer; I know this film involves the neighbours proposing group sex. I assumed that would be the inciting incident and it would lead to things. Instead, it’s the destination, and it’s a destination the film takes far too long getting to.

That lack of progression also affects the central relationship. Joe and Angela don’t feel like real people so much as vehicles for clever dialogue. Every conversation is packed with witty observations, but it rarely feels spontaneous or lived-in. Also, there was no warmth to the relationship between the two main characters. I understand that the point is they’re trapped in a loveless marriage fuelled by resentment, too afraid to admit it’s over. That doesn’t mean spending nearly two hours with them becomes any easier. I kept waiting for just one moment of genuine warmth, some glimpse of why these two people fell in love in the first place. There’s a brief moment where it seems they might unite against the bickering of the other couple, but it disappears almost as quickly as it arrives.

That lack of warmth really hampers the ending. Joe finally returns to the piano, Angela joins him, and they seem to reconcile. It’s a sweet scene in isolation, but after nearly two hours of anger, bitterness and emotional distance, it feels too small to justify such a dramatic shift. It’s like trying to fix a leg amputation with a piece of sellotape.

For all my issues, there is still a lot to enjoy about The Invite. Beneath all the bitterness is an impactful look at people and keeping the spark alive in long-term relationships. For a film that’s so bitter, it just may save the relationship of someone watching. They may see it and be inspired to try more, to treat their partner with love, to keep wooing them and trying to impress them instead of confusing stability for fulfilment. The ensemble also works well as a true four-hander, with every actor getting plenty to do. Although, interestingly, despite having a female director and co-writer, the film subtly privileges Joe’s perspective. He’s the only character we spend meaningful time with alone, and the only one we follow outside the apartment. It’s a small imbalance, but one that makes the supposedly shared story feel slightly weighted towards him.

I won’t begrudge anybody enjoying this. Mainly because being annoyed at someone for their film opinions would be weird. Maybe a younger, more cynical me would have loved this. It will find its audience, of that I’m certain. But I’m not part of that audience. I appreciate what it’s trying to do, but it never quite invited me in.