
Tommy Wirkola Returns to Helm 'Violent Night 2'
Get ready for more festive carnage. Director Tommy Wirkola is officially returning to directViolent Night 2, withUniversal Pictures. The confirmation comes amidst strong anticipation for the sequel to the cult-favorite R-rated holiday action film.
David Harbouris confirmed to reprise his role as the ass-kicking Santa Claus. While plot details are still under wraps, screenwriters Pat Casey and Josh Miller, who are also returning, have teased a bigger scale for the sequel. They've hinted that Santa won't be trapped in a mansion again, and that the film might incorporate a 'little Western influence' while delving further into Santa's Viking backstory. There's also been widespread speculation about the potential introduction of Mrs. Claus, with names like Charlize Theron and Noomi Rapace being floated as dream casting choices.
Universal Pictures and producers Kelly McCormick and David Leitch (87North Productions) are aiming for a September production start in WinnipegViolent Night 2is set to release on December 4, 2026.
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Time Magazine
19 hours ago
- Time Magazine
Breaking Down the Twists and Reveals in the Ending of Netflix's 'Untamed'
Warning: This post contains spoilers for Untamed. The temptation is strong to classify Untamed, the new series from screenwriter Mark L. Smith and his daughter Elle Smith, as Netflix's answer to Paramount's Yellowstone. In fact, it's not wrong to at least assume as much; when one studio makes a cool $2 billion from their neo-Western surprise smash, a non-zero number of competing studios will inevitably scramble to fund their own. But if Untamed is a product of the ongoing content arms race between cable networks and streaming services, it is nonetheless a better genetic match to Top of the Lake, Jane Campion's 2013 New Zealand mystery drama, whose skeletal structure reads like the unintended template for television's modern crop of regional detective dramas. Untamed, like Yellowstone, concerns itself with one of America's best ideas: its national parks. But it's also a trim limited series rooted in the stuff of parenthood, like Top of the Lake—the sins of the father (and the mother, for good measure), self-doubt, overwhelming powerlessness, and lots of grief. No conflict is had between the old ways and the new, so to speak, not even in context with white settlers' theft of Indigenous land. Instead, the show excavates the souls of its co-leads, Kyle Turner (Eric Bana), an Investigative Services Branch (ISB) agent for the National Park Service in Yosemite; and Naya Vasque (Lily Santiago), an L.A. transplant and NPS newbie, assigned to assist Turner in following the threads of a potential murder case in the park. What they unravel from that skein cuts not only to their cores as parents, but the story's supporting characters' cores, too, from Paul Souter (Sam Neill), Turner's friend, mentor, father figure, and boss as Yosemite's chief ranger, to Jill (Rosemary DeWitt), Turner's ex-wife, who can't resist the gravitational pull of his PTSD. She has her own emotional and moral baggage, too, some that's conventional, and some that's harder to spot, like sunlight glinting off a hunting rifle's scope. Jill takes the hit… Likewise, the reveal of one Sean Sanderson's fate lands one episode too late in Untamed to make an impression on the narrative; it's a missed opportunity by the Smiths to lend Jill necessary character depth. Sanderson (Mark Rankin in a walk-on role) went missing in Yosemite about five years ago in the show's timeline, but his name is brought up frequently in its present. His family is filing a wrongful death suit against the park, and their lawyer, Esther Avalos (Nicola Correia-Damude), visits Turner and Jill alike, sniffing around for information about his disappearance. DeWitt is one of our most casually gifted actors, in that whatever role she plays in whichever medium she chooses, she constitutionally reads as at-ease in her characters; they're lived-in and breathe life through the screen. Jill is no exception. But the guarantee of a good DeWitt performance can't offset Jill's meager profile on the page. She is, like Turner, figuratively haunted by the death of their young son, Caleb (Ezra Wilson), revealed in the series opener, 'A Celestial Event,' to have tragically died prior to Untamed's events–about five years, in fact. Turner is literally haunted, per his recurring conversations with Caleb; it isn't made explicit whether he's an apparition or just a hallucination, but there is nonetheless a ghostly quality to their dialogue together. In keeping with popular male balms for spiritual suffering, Turner turns to alcohol and functions as a mollusk, socially and professionally; his stoicism is an act, one his peers pick up on, and which some openly deride. 'Christ, here comes Gary Cooper,' grouses Milch (William Smillie) when Turner strides on horseback into the scene of the crime that spurs Untamed's A-plot: the murder of Lucy Cook (Ezra Franky), met in 'A Celestial Event' when she leaps off of El Capitan and into the ropes of two climbers ascending the granite monolith—a plunge she doesn't survive. The no-nonsense lawman routine is tired, within the text as well as without—if Milch and the rest of the park staff are done with Turner's schtick, then maybe television writ large should be, too—but at least it's normal. Jill, by contrast, responds to Caleb's death another way altogether. It turns out that Sanderson—he of the missing persons case—is Caleb's killer, whose crime was caught after the fact on motion cameras set up by Shane Maguire (Wilson Bethel), Yosemite's Wildlife Management Officer and staff reprobate. Shane intended those cameras to document animal migration patterns; instead, they reflect Milch's words to Vasquez in the second episode, 'Jane Doe,' that when people trek into the wild, they assume no one's around to watch them, 'so they do whatever bad sh-t pops in their head.' Shane brings this information to Turner and Jill, and offers them revenge in the form of taking out Sanderson. Turner refuses; but Jill accepts. We spend most of the show assuming Turner's change in temperament, following Caleb's death, is the catalyst for his and Jill's divorce. It's a welcome change to the formula that Jill's decision to engage Shane's services is in fact what broke their marriage. If only the Smiths worked that twist into Untamed before the finale. Dropping that grenade on the audience with so little time left to feel the impact does Jill little justice, but DeWitt does, in fairness, invest great pathos in her. As much as it comes as a shock that someone so mild-mannered would turn that dark, the matter-of-factness in DeWitt's delivery reads as confrontational: given the opportunity, would you, fellow parents, make the same choice as her? …but Souter takes a fall There is, of course, another twist to accompany Jill's disclosure to her second husband, Scott (Josh Randall), as we are still awaiting resolution in the matter of Lucy Cook's death. After Turner cleverly unlocks Lucy's iPhone by applying formaldehyde to her corpse's cheeks to dupe its facial recognition biometrics, he discovers that Lucy's heretofore anonymous lover, Terces—'secret' spelled backwards—is actually Shane, and based on videos showcasing him abusing her, not to mention his pro-murder worldview, he looks like the culprit responsible for her ultimate plunge off of El Capitan. But looks are deceiving. Sure, they're not deceiving enough that we feel any kind of pity for Shane when Vasquez gets the drop on him and guns him down, saving Turner's life; unsurprisingly, Turner figures out Shane's involvement in a drug trafficking scheme in Yosemite, moving product in and out of the park through bygone mining tunnels; Shane takes the discovery badly, and nearly kills Turner in a drawn-out hunt over hill and dale. But if Shane is a monster who is guilty in the matter of how Lucy lived, as both her abusive partner and a participant in the drug ring, he is nonetheless innocent in the matter of her death. The real guilty party here is Paul Souter, who also happens to be her biological father, a truth only he and Lucy are privy to. In an abstract perspective, this makes thematic sense. Untamed is about parenthood on a molecular level: the lengths we'll go to protect our children, and the depths we plumb if we're so unfortunate as to mourn them. Vasquez' character arc involves Michael (JD Pardo), her ex-partner on the force and in life, and their son, Gael (Omi Fitzpatrick-Gonzales), whom she took with her to Yosemite for his safety; in flashbacks, we see Lucy with her mother, Maggie (Sarah Dawn Pledge), in happier times, learning about her Miwok ancestry; Paul looks after his granddaughter, Sadie (Julianna Alarcon), while his other, acknowledged daughter, who isn't seen in the show, struggles with personal demons of her own. None of this makes the screenwriting decision to put the burden of Lucy's death on Paul any more welcome or tasteful, though. It's another knife in Turner's back when he's just gotten off of bedrest, post-recovery after his grueling fight with Shane; when he connects a few stray dots that lead him to Nevada, where he meets Faith Gibbs (Hilary Jardine), whose parents fostered a slew of kids, including Lucy. Faith recalls Lucy talking about how her father, a policeman, would come for her one day, and arrest the Gibbs, who severely mistreated their various wards. The gears in Turner's head grind along as she dredges up this memory, and he confronts Paul first thing upon returning to Yosemite. All Paul can do is argue that he only meant the best by whisking her away to the Gibbses, far from her violent stepfather. It's a weak case for the character to make, given the abuse the Gibbses subjected Lucy to, and that when she comes back to the park as an adult to extort Paul, he reacts by accidentally chasing her to her death off of El Capitan–a revelation that feels quite like letting all the air out of a balloon. …and Turner moves on. Consequently, that makes a weaker conclusion for the narrative, one the series can only wrap up by having Paul use his pistol on himself and take a tumble into rushing river waters. Worse, that unceremonious and unearned end robs oxygen from Turner's own catharsis, a black flag at Untamed's last lap. Turner is the lead. His growth as a human being is what we're here for. Paul's increasingly bad decisions throw up a smoke screen around that growth, minutes before the story closes the arc of Turner's self-destructive bereavement. The pivot to Paul's complicity is especially frustrating given the wonderful foundation for Turner's ultimate closure laid out by his friend, former colleague, and Miwok community leader, Jay (Raoul Max Trujillo), in a monologue in the fifth episode, 'Terces,' about the connection he feels to his forebears through his connection to Yosemite's land. 'When it's my time to die, I will die here,' Jay says. 'But if I chose to die somewhere else, I would still have my ancestors with me, because the spirits in this valley are within each one of us.' Turner tearfully echoes the sentiment in 'All Trails Lead Here,' during a final farewell with Caleb's visage. 'No matter where I am, or where I go, you'll always be with me,' Turner chokes. When the credits roll, he's on his way out of Yosemite, the site of his anguish, for good, newly at peace and secure with the memories he has of his beloved son. Untamed incidentally reminds viewers just how vast our country is, at a moment when the world feels smaller than ever–an illusion we perform on ourselves with slavish devotion to our personal devices and social media. Paul's confession and suicide therefore strikes a sour chord on the series' driving motif. Emphasizing the bonds we hold with our loved ones, whether they're with us or not, makes a more fitting ending, for Jill, for Vasquez, and especially for Turner.
Yahoo
a day ago
- Yahoo
Netflix just got Prime Video's most overlooked crime drama — and you can binge all 3 seasons right now
When you buy through links on our articles, Future and its syndication partners may earn a commission. In August 2014, Bryan Cranston won his fourth and final Emmy for his performance as Walter White on "Breaking Bad" and made a speech that would inadvertently lead to his next TV project. 'I don't know why I have been blessed with an abundance of good fortune in my life,' Cranston began. 'I was a kid who always looked for the shortcut — schemer. My own family nicknamed me Sneaky Pete. My own family!' After thanking the academy, his family, the cast, and the crew, he concluded: 'I'd like to dedicate this award to all the sneaky Petes of the world.' The next day, Cranston got a phone call from Zack Van Amburg, the president of Sony Pictures Television, who pitched him a surprising idea: What about a show called "Sneaky Pete"? Seven months later, Cranston had teamed up with David Shore (creator of "House") to write and film a pilot, which aired in March 2015 on CBS. The network passed on the show, and a bidding war began, with "Sneaky Pete" ultimately getting scooped up by Amazon's Prime Video and premiering two years later. Positive reviews were enough to keep the series running for three seasons, but it never managed to break into the mainstream conversation, which is a shame, because "Sneaky Pete" is a truly excellent crime drama. Thankfully, that may finally be about to change. "Sneaky Pete" is streaming for the first time on Netflix as of July 10, meaning this overlooked show has a chance to reach its biggest audience ever. Here's why it's worth making "Sneaky Pete" your new summer obsession. What is 'Sneaky Pete' about? "Sneaky Pete" stars Giovanni Ribisi (best known as the villain in "Ted" and Phoebe's brother in "Friends") as Marius Josipović, a con man who's released from prison as the show begins. Marius soon runs into a gangster he once robbed (Cranston), who wants revenge. Thinking quickly, he remembers that his former cellmate, Pete Murphy, has some rich grandparents in upstate New York who haven't seen their grandson in 20 years. So Marius becomes Pete and heads north to start a new life and meet his new family. While this plan seems to work at first, it quickly arouses the suspicion of his new grandma (Margo Martindale). He's soon introduced to a sprawling family — including a female cousin he probably wishes he could kiss— leading to further complications. Marius' con-man instincts often make things worse, creating an increasingly tangled web of lies that he struggles to keep up with. "Sneaky Pete" season 1 also features a great B-plot focused on Marius' brother Eddie (Michael Drayer) and Cranston's gangster, which helps keep things moving as we're slowly eased into the world of the Murphys. If you're only watching for Bryan Cranston, however, be warned, he doesn't show up in any of the later seasons, which put more focus on the Murphy clan as those relationships continue to develop and new complications are introduced. A network crime drama/prestige TV hybrid The premise of "Sneaky Pete" may seem slightly contrived, but the execution is masterful, thanks in large part to showrunner Graham Yost ("Justified"), who came onboard after Amazon picked up the show with the goal of transforming it from a network drama to prestige television. A big part of that is Bryan Cranston, who was supposed to only get a glorified cameo but instead wound up with a small-but-significant season 1 role. Cranston clearly saw something special in "Sneaky Pete" and decided to stick around. The always-amazing Margo Martindale ("The Americans," "Justified") also does some heavy lifting to elevate the main plotline while Ribisi and the rest of the cast find their footing. Comparing the pilot episode, which was released on Prime Video unchanged, to the series that followed, it's easy to see how Amazon altered the original concept. It's darker and sexier, in the style of so many mid-2010s prestige shows. The overall structure still sometimes feels more episodic, with a clear adventure-of-the-week framing that might play better on CBS (especially early on in the show), but that doesn't mean you can't binge your way through multiple episodes (or even seasons) at a brisk pace. A (somewhat) satisfying ending The most important question to ask about any older show before diving in is whether it sticks the landing. In this case, the answer is a resounding: sort of. Amazon canceled "Sneaky Pete" in 2019 after season 3, and while the series doesn't end on some huge, unresolved cliffhanger, it's also clear that the show's creators were already planning for season 4. Much of the third season is spent assembling various pieces and bringing important plotlines and characters into position. Yost seems like he was setting up for something big that we'll likely never get to see. Then again, if "Sneaky Pete" is a hit on Netflix, maybe a sequel of some sort could still happen (like with "Suits" and its recent spinoff show). But even if these three seasons are all we ever get, you won't regret watching this criminally overlooked crime series that never dipped in quality and just keeps getting better until its very last episode. Watch "Sneaky Pete" on Netflix and Prime Video Follow Tom's Guide on Google News to get our up-to-date news, how-tos, and reviews in your feeds. Make sure to click the Follow button. More on Tom's Guide What's new on Netflix this week Prime Video top 10 shows — here's the 3 worth watching now Netflix's new mystery thriller series could be your perfect summer binge-watch


Geek Tyrant
a day ago
- Geek Tyrant
Retro Trailer For Roger Corman's 1980 Sci-Fi Adventure Film BATTLE BEYOND THE STARS — GeekTyrant
This week's retro trailer is for the 1980 sci-fi adventure film Battle Beyond the Stars , which is Roger Corman's ambitious, low-budget attempt to ride the wave of Star Wars mania, and it's essentially a space western version of The Magnificent Seven . The story follows Shad (Richard Thomas), a young farmer from the peaceful planet Akir, which is under threat from the tyrannical warlord Sador. To save his home, Shad sets off in a sentient starship with a snarky onboard computer to recruit a team of mercenaries from across the galaxy. The ragtag group includes a weathered gunslinger, a sexy Valkyrie warrior, a hive-mind alien race, and even a pair of reptilian lizard men, each bringing their own quirks to this intergalactic standoff. What follows is a campy, colorful, and surprisingly inventive space adventure with some truly bizarre characters and alien designs. What makes Battle Beyond the Stars so wild isn't just its outrageous mix of spaghetti western tropes and pulpy sci-fi aesthetics, it's the sheer audacity of what Corman and his team pulled off with a modest $2 million budget. James Cameron also worked on the film as a production design and art director, and the score was created by James Horner. The costumes and sets scream pure late-'70s cheese and dialogue flips between deadly serious and hilariously camp. Battle Beyond the Stars is a glorious example of B-movie excess, a cult classic that proves when creativity collides with low-budget ingenuity, you get something bobkers and unforgettable.