Internet streaming has resurrected well-loved television series, racked up trophies during awards season, and has become a powerhouse in the Sundance acquisition game. Now, HBO Go and HBO Now are entering into a new wrinkle of streaming by releasing The Godfather Epic, a 7-and-a-half hour, chronologically re-sequenced edit of the first two Godfather films. Netflix has dabbled in releasing director’s cuts of films like World War Z and The Act of Killing, but this is on a whole different level, given the size and audacity of the project. Perhaps for some this is a sign of streaming using too much power and actively damaging to the film. There is no doubt, however, that the release proves the flexibility of streaming—The Godfather Epic simply couldn’t have the reach or impact in theaters or on cable television. If you don’t have time for a 424 minutes free this weekend, here are plenty of other great options new to streaming this week:

Netflix

Chelsea Does (Series, Season 1)

It feels like forever ago when Netflix announced a deal with popular comedian and former talk show host Chelsea Handler. While Netflix has featured Handler in a recent comedy special, the ultimate fruit of their partnership in now here. Chelsea Does is a four-part documentary series with the versatile personality taking on a number of topics, including racism and marriage. Handler’s unique voice should certainly work well in this open format and it’ll be interesting to see exactly where it goes. The small number of episodes is an interesting break from the regular cable television model as well, something that Netflix still struggles with at times. In any case, Chelsea Does should be a perfectly bite-sized, inherently bingeable piece of entertainment.

Other titles new to Netflix this week:
Cartel Land (Matthew Heineman, 2015)
The Cut (Fatih Akin, 2014)
Drone (Tonje Hessen Schei, 2014)
Misunderstood (Asia Argento, 2014)
Serenity (Joss Whedon, 2005)

Fandor

The Hidden Fortress (Akira Kurosawa, 1958)

This week’s “Criterion Picks” cover classic films that received non-direct remakes. As Star Wars: The Force Awakens nears 2 billion dollars worldwide (it will be the third film to do so if it happens), it’s a great time to check out what is known to be a major influence on the popular franchise. Kurosawa has made more legendary films, but considering its connection to Star Wars and George Lucas, it might be his most culturally important. The Hidden Fortress follows two peasants (the inspiration for C-3P0 and R2-D2) who help transport a disguised princess out of a war zone. The film is absolutely full of adventure, action and comedy, making it one of Kurosawa’s most approachable films. Other selections available in “Before the Remake” include The Virgin Spring (influenced The Last House on the Left), The Wages of Fear (influenced Sorcerer), Seven Samurai (influenced The Magnificent Seven), and more. These picks are available until January 31.

Other titles new to Fandor this week:
Actress (Robert Greene, 2014)
Hannah Arendt (Margarethe von Trotta, 2012)
La Jetée (Chris Marker, 1960)
Walden (Jonas Mekas, 1969)
Western (Bill Ross IV & Turner Ross, 2015)

MUBI

The Oath (Laura Poitras, 2010)

Documentarian Laura Poitras jumped into the spotlight with her Oscar winning film Citizenfour, but she had previously made two powerful docs that are now available on MUBI. Following her Oscar nominated look at the war in Iraq, My Country, My Country, The Oath profiles two men with connections to Osama bin Laden who are detained by the U.S. government following 9/11. Poitras’ journalistic eye digs into the rhetoric around al-Qaeda and the war on terror while also existing as a powerful character study. Along with Poitras, the film was produced by Joshua Oppenheimer of The Act of Killing. With that pedigree behind The Oath, it is remarkably under-seen. You can change that for yourself on MUBI until February 19.

Other titles new to MUBI this week:
Golden Door (Emanuele Crialese, 2006)
It Felt Like Love (Eliza Hittman, 2013)
Jealousy (Philippe Garrel, 2013)
My Country, My Country (Laura Poitras, 2006)
They Made Me a Fugitive (Alberto Cavalcanti, 1947)

Video On-Demand

Taxi (Jafar Panahi, 2015)

For obvious reasons, there isn’t a more interesting filmmaker working today than Jafar Panahi. A political activist in his home country of Iran, he received a 20-year ban from making movies by the government in 2010—since then, he has released three films. Already one of the great Iranian filmmakers, Panahi’s legal limitations have given him a career resurgence and a sharper voice. In Taxi, Pahani plays a version of himself that has become a cab driver during his filmmaking banishment. As he picks up and drops off his patrons, a number of political and social topics are explored through their conversations. Its stripped down, docu-drama style was perhaps Panahi’s only option, but the results are no less potent. Taxi (also referred to as Jafar Panahi’s Taxi and Taxi Tehran) is now available to rent or own on iTunes and other VOD platforms.

Other titles new to VOD this week:
Diary of a Teenage Girl (Marielle Heller, 2015)
Mojave (William Monahan, 2015)
Spectre (Sam Mendes, 2015)
Straight Outta Compton (F. Gary Gray, 2015)
Woodlawn (Andrew Erwin & Jon Erwin, 2015)

As everyone at Way Too Indie scrambles together to watch and rank as many films as they can before the end of the year, we decided to spend some time knocking down and propping up some of what 2015 had to offer. The fun part about having writers with such diverse tastes is that it’s hard to find a consensus, leading to many (friendly) disagreements and arguments between people. After doing our first overrated/underrated feature last year, we had such a fun time we decided to make it a yearly tradition here on Way Too Indie.

All of our writers were tasked to pick one overrated and one underrated film, along with an explanation for their choices. Read on below, and if you happen to disagree with any of our sentiments, we’ve included a link to most of our staff’s Twitter handles where you are invited to express your outrage or agreement or let us know what we’ve overlooked.

Way Too Indie’s Most Overrated And Underrated Films Of 2015

Aaron Pinkston

Inside Out is overrated

Pixar’s first offering of 2015 has become one of the studio’s most successful films—only behind Toy Story 3 in terms of box office and with a 98% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes. I’m not going to argue that Inside Out isn’t a good film, but it simply didn’t connect with me on a personal level as it has for the public and critical audiences. Many of the film’s relative problems come with the broad nature that allows it to connect with so many. This is mostly true of its humor, which often plays for easy stereotypes even as its emotional complexity is strong. The characters inside of Riley’s head are of course broad by design, but the core relationship between Joy and Sadness aside, this isn’t the height of Pixar. Some have forecasted a heated battle against Anomalisa for animated film of the year (and that even excludes When Marnie Was There, a fantastic film that’s also in this feature), but it seems like a relative shoo-in for Inside Out, especially with the film garnering Best Picture nomination predictions for the Oscars—the new model nod for cultural transcendence in animated film.

Focus is underrated

One of the great film trends of 2015 was the many great throw-back entertainments. While Focus may be a little flashier than Bridge of Spies and Spotlight, it too shows the pleasures of how solid a ’90s-era flick can be. The biggest appeal of the film is Will Smith, who again shows that he is a bonafide movie star in case you forgot. The actor’s natural charm is incredibly fun to watch, in full effect with terrific chemistry with co-star Margot Robbie—they are good enough together that it’s easy to forget the wide age gap between them. As for the film’s plot: the con man hijinks don’t do anything new, and some of the film’s twists aren’t too hard to see coming, but the pace is quick and there are a few excellent scenes. The anchor scene of the film, where Smith gets into a heated double-or-nothing battle with the great B.D. Wong at the Super Bowl, builds dynamically and stands on its own as one of the best scenes of the year. Like many of the ’90s films that it reminds me of, Focus will be a welcome addition to the cable movie cycle for years to come.

Ananda Dillon

Jurassic World is overrated

Immediately after viewing Jurassic World I turned to my viewing partner, a look of disgust forming on my face, to discover that she and almost everyone else in the theater were high on some sort of flashy, merchandised, nostalgia-pandered fairy dust. And apparently the rest of America (and the world) fell victim as well, as this film is the highest grossing of 2015. I admit I had hopes, not even high ones, of the film playing just the right amount on my love of the first film, on their being bigger and badder dinos, of Chris Pratt being the dinosaur-whisperer who’d steal my heart and Bryce Dallas Howard the badass chick who’d save the day. What I got was more Starbucks and Mercedes logos than my brain could even process, a chick inexplicably running through a tropical island in heels, and (the biggest offense in my mind) the sudden introduction of vindictive dinosaurs. The entire premise of the first film can be boiled down into man vs. nature (umm, life finds a way, duh) and now we’re supposed to swallow the notion of 22-years of fraternization with humans suddenly allowing for cognitive decision making on the part of these “animals”? It’s one thing for a raptor to hunt kids in a kitchen instinctually, another for them to follow Chris Pratt and crew around the park on some sort of mission. The other plot holes are so numerous I have no room to elaborate but I continue to be bewildered at how many people were so dazzled by the special effects and novelty of a new Jurassic Park film that they not only dismissed the absurdity happening in front of them but praised a film that pretty much spits on its source material. I guess Dr. Malcolm would call this the truest example of chaos theory.

Slow West is underrated

So it’s not going to make the top of anyone’s Best Westerns of 2015 list as this is surprisingly a heated year for the genre. Bone Tomahawk has gotten more buzz, The Hateful Eight is primed and ready to blow us all away (in 70 mm!), and The Revenant has star power and artistry out the wazoo. But as much as I know what to expect from those films, Slow West has to be the most surprising western of the year. Maybe it was a marketing problem or a release date mismatch but the film came and went with not nearly enough hullabaloo. Big-namer Fassbender just wasn’t enough to counter a relatively nobody director, John Maclean, and I for one had no idea just how charming the film would be or how much it would ooze eclectic humor. Watching it evoked a similar smugness as watching a Wes Anderson film with all the darkly surprising gristle of a Coen brothers film. It’s oddly romantic for a western, lost love being the driver of the action, and incredibly well performed, especially breakout Caren Pistorious who I genuinely hope to see in more films soon. It may not make Top 20 of 2015 lists, but I hope it has a sort of second coming for those who realize they shouldn’t have glossed over this one.

Cameron Morewood

Beasts of No Nation is overrated

With Beasts of No Nation, Cary Fukunaga is often more concerned with demonstrating his ability to showcase flashy visuals than he is with staying true to the heart of his story and characters. The film’s mise en scène consistently feels detached from the human beings on screen. Raids and chase sequences are depicted in crude slow motion and accompanied by awkward synth music. Idris Elba is certainly a saving grace. Many of the children in the film, including the lead (Abraham Attah), also proved to be surprisingly talented actors. With a different director who possessed a better understanding of how to respond to the material and stylized his film accordingly, Beasts of No Nation could have been something that wasn’t so easily forgotten.

Beloved Sisters is underrated

Beloved Sisters had the unfortunate fate of being intended as a December 2014 release, but being dumped off in January instead. As a result, it was either overlooked or forgotten about by many. But what filmmaker Dominik Graf gives audiences is a rich and epic melodrama, bolstered by a trio of exceptional performances and cinematography which is often classical, but occasionally off-base, deviating into territory more commonly associated with other genres. It’s also lavishly produced and wonderfully scored—its locations feel genuine and lived in, absent of CGI in its rendering of a baroque atmosphere.

Byron Bixler

Straight Outta Compton is overrated

As a big fan of old school hip-hop, Straight Outta Compton was one of my most anticipated films of the year. The genre and the artists who work within it has rarely been addressed by Hollywood, and the few times it was represented, the results were shaky at best (I’m looking at you, Notorious). But with an exciting marketing campaign and the active involvement of Ice Cube, Dr. Dre and Eazy-E’s widow, I had confidence that this might be different.

I want to make it clear that Straight Outta Compton is not a bad film—it’s just alright. F. Gary Gray’s direction is fluid, the concert and party scenes have an infectious energy, Jason Mitchell gives a breakthrough performance in an ensemble of solid turns and the needle drop moments are on point. However, the script is where I begin to scratch my head at the universal praise. It’s an ambitious sprawl of a story, but all the character relationships, ambitions and internal issues are painted out in broad strokes. The dialogue is frustratingly on the nose and low on nuance, with several moments playing out with the simplistic instincts of a TV movie of the week. I’m thrilled that Straight Outta Compton has sparked a resurgence of interest in late ’80s/early ’90s hip hop, but it could have been so much better. I can’t help but think we’re settling for less due to the film’s weak field of competitors.

When Marnie Was There is underrated

While most Studio Ghibli films open to a rapturous response, When Marnie Was There seemingly came and went without a word this summer. The only substantial discussion revolved around its status as Ghibli’s last film before taking an extended break. Perhaps this was because it lacked the overtly imaginative fantasy of Spirited Away or My Neighbor Totoro. Or maybe it’s because it wasn’t quite as distinctive in its animation or storytelling as last year’s sensation, The Tale of the Princess Kaguya. Whatever the reason, When Marnie Was There is an emotionally charged gem that soars on its sensitivity to themes of depression, abandonment and alienation. Heavy stuff for sure, but when filtered through the prism of a mysterious spectral tale, it becomes amazingly accessible to both young and old viewers. It’s a ghost story that’s tender rather than frightening and a family film that levels with its audience, refusing to pander and getting to the heart of very real childhood issues. There’s a lot to dig into here, and while it might not be top tier Ghibli, it stays true to the studio’s tradition of beautiful, smart, and universally relatable filmmaking.

Bernard Boo

Carol is overrated

Todd Haynes’ Carol is one of the most overwhelmingly beloved films of the year; on this issue, I stand a lonely outsider. Perhaps there’s some deeper beauty that’s lost on me, but I found the film to be emotionally cold and half-awake. Lifeless, even. It’s ironic for a movie so visually colorful and sublime, but that’s what makes it so irreconcilable in my head. The production and costume design are unbelievably good, and the performances by leads Rooney Mara and Cate Blanchett are solid. But I could never shake the feeling that the whole movie felt like an overly studied Examination on the laws of attraction (capital “E” intended). The warmth of the production and Haynes’ directorial style too often doesn’t gel with the cerebral, structured material, an issue that consistently kept me at arms length from the story and its characters. There are a lot of amazing things going on in this movie, but I feel as if the movie needs a big hug, both to heat it up and to bring its terriffic-but-disconnected elements to a tighter state of cohesion.

The Visit is underrated

The first movies M. Night Shyamalan’s made will haunt him forever. I won’t name them here—we all know what they were and, more importantly, how goddamn good they were. Audiences have been watching his movies with arms folded and a skeptical smirk ever since, waiting for him to capture his former glory. He hasn’t, which is unfortunate, but with The Visit it feels like Shyamalan’s finally dropped that weight he’s had on his shoulders for all those years and is starting to have fun again. This selfie-generation take on Hansel and Gretel is wild, mischievous, scary, wickedly funny, and most importantly doesn’t take itself so seriously. It’s not a film that will resurrect Shyamalan’s credibility completely, but I think I’m through with using his early films as the ultimate measuring stick for his career. The Visit is one of the most entertaining horror movies of 2015, though I think the context of its filmmaker’s larger career has stifled its success.

Blair Hoyle

Avengers: Age of Ultron is overrated

It truly speaks to the generic, predictable nature of most current superhero movies that Avengers: Age of Ultron wasn’t even particularly well received. And yet it’s still overrated. Another by-the-numbers comic book adaptation that tries (and fails) to convince the audience that the indestructible characters are actually in danger, the film rarely—if ever—provides any emotional stakes. When the most entertaining moment of a high-octane superhero movie is when the characters are just kind of hanging out at a cabin, you know something has gone horribly wrong.

Project Almanac is underrated

At a time when a vast majority of found footage films follow a formulaic blueprint and execution, Dean Israelite’s Project Almanac brings something new to the table. A time travel film that doesn’t find its protagonists saving the world from a government conspiracy, Project Almanac instead focuses on high school kids doing high school things. They use their time machine to attend past music festivals, to win the lottery, and impress love interests. It’s an insanely charming film, filled with excellent performances that showcase its young cast’s comedic and dramatic acting skills. It’s energetic, exciting, and sure to elicit equal amounts of cheers and laughs.

C.J. Prince

Goodnight Mommy is overrated

Did critics get collectively hit on the head by a brick when they praised Goodnight Mommy? A torture porn dressed up in Euro arthouse clothing, Goodnight Mommy is an exercise in austere agony that uses violence as a distraction from the fact that it has nothing to say. It starts off as an intriguing story about twin brothers who think their mother—whose face is bandaged up after getting surgery—is a sinister impostor, but that’s about as interesting as things get. Eventually writers/directors Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala decide to let the boys tie their mom up and torture her to see if she’s really their mother. Franz/Fiala try to be ambiguous about whether the boys’ suspicions are justified, but in this case it’s irrelevant. If their mother turned out to be an alien/ghost/demon/<insert evil thing here>, does that make watching her lips get sliced open any less gruesome to watch? And it’s not like showing this sort of gore is an achievement in horror either; wincing at a woman screaming while someone flosses her gums until they tear apart is a natural reaction, not evidence that the people putting it on screen have any talent. Goodnight Mommy is just a vacuous torture chamber, and shouldn’t be looked at as anything more than an Eli Roth movie with a better cinematographer.

Saint Laurent is underrated

Saint Laurent is a strange case for me, since it’s a film I feel passionate about yet it’s one I can’t really defend. It’s definitely a flawed film, one that overstays its welcome and gets lost in itself plenty of times, but out of the countless movies I’ve seen this year this one still rattles in my mind from time to time. Bertrand Bonello has made what I’d be more comfortable calling a far masterpiece rather than a near masterpiece, a film that comes to life in sublime flashes while being surrounded by more plodding and mediocre parts. Besides having a terrific cast and a killer soundtrack (Bonello is flawless in this department), Saint Laurent takes a more intriguing approach to a biopic; it’s more concerned with nailing down the moods and emotions of what being Yves Saint Laurent would be like, a sort of boundless opulence that comes with holding so much talent and wealth. And when Bonello nails that aspect, Saint Laurent hits a seductive, giddy high that no other film this year comes close to matching. It’s understandable why Saint Laurent can prove to be a frustrating experience given its flaws, but that doesn’t mean it should be tossed off or derided. It’s a film that has the courage to try and (more importantly) fail, a quality that should be embraced rather than opposed.

Dustin Jansick

Mommy is overrated

I’m not sure if there were more obnoxious characters than the mother-son duo in Xavier Dolan’s Mommy. Somehow the film walked away with the Jury Prize at the Cannes Film Festival and caused even more people to praise the ground beneath Dolan. These characters are irritating by design: the boy (played by a hyperactive Antoine-Olivier Pilon) suffers from ADHD, causing violent outbursts like setting a fire in a school cafeteria and screaming on the top of his lungs for no apparent reason, and the mother (Anne Dorval) is equally unpleasant with her nonchalant attitude on life. Eventually, all the child-like screaming and hitting just becomes exasperating and downright insufferable. Then there’s the frustrating 1:1 aspect ratio. Dolan devotees will tell you this was an essential part of the film which leads to a some sort of epiphany. But I’m here to tell you it’s more of a gimmicky stylistic choice, paired hilariously with Oasis’ overplayed song “Wonderwall”. So while I respect Dolan as a filmmaker—I think some day he may be considered one of the greats—most of his films end up feeling like exercises in self-indulgence, and Mommy is no exception.

Wild Tales is underrated

The only logical explanation as to why more people aren’t talking about Damián Szifron’s Wild Tales this year is that they didn’t realize it counts as a 2015 release (in the U.S.) after generating so much buzz last year from its Oscar nomination for Best Foreign Language film. Szifron’s wild anthology film consists of six short tales, each with the same theme of revenge along with plenty of absurd humor. With perhaps the best opening scene of 2015, Wild Tales starts things off with the shortest of its tales: passengers on a plane quickly discover inconceivable connections with each other, realizing it’s more than just a coincidence just before the story comes to abrupt end. With each new story, Szifron finds inventive ways to up the stakes. Most involve well-mannered characters methodically planning schemes to take down the person that wronged them. Of course, their plans don’t always work out perfectly. The final chapter concludes with an outrageous scuffle when a bride finds out her husband cheated on her with one of their guests, resulting in the most ridiculous and awkward wedding reception of all time. Given its anthological nature, there’s never a dull moment in Wild Tales. What’s better than a well-told revenge tale? Six of them.

Michael Nazarewycz

It Follows is overrated

What David Robert Mitchell did with It Follows—this year’s darling of the indie horror scene—is pretty neat. The film’s conceit alone is clever enough: a shape-shifting (though frequently unseen) entity hunts a person—in slow walking, ’80s slasher style—until it catches and kills that person. But if that person sleeps with someone, the person with whom the hunted slept with becomes the new target. Complementing that is a score by Disasterpeace that invokes memories of the great John Carpenter scores of the 1980s. And Mike Gioulakis’s cinematography? To die for. And yet. For as visually great as It Follows is, the other two key points the film’s devotees cling to—the conceit and the score—are flawed and highly overvalued. The score, while wonderful on its own, is as oppressive as it is random in its application. It’s as if Mitchell isn’t sure when to use it, so he uses it when he thinks he should, which is too often. The greater sin, though, is how fast and loose the film plays with its own rules. I’m usually not one to nitpick such things, particularly in the horror genre, but the film’s premise—hell, its entire marketing campaign—is all about “The Rules”. But once the film gets deeper into the second act, Mitchell, who also wrote the screenplay, needs to cheat those rules to keep the film going. That simply doesn’t fly. It Follows is a good film, but it’s too imperfect to be as revered as it is.

Ant-Man is underrated

A pair of things have hampered a full appreciation for Ant-Man. The first is the foolish melodrama that preceded the film’s release—melodrama created by the internet when the film’s original director, Edgar Wright, left the project. The second is the film having been released after Avengers: Age of Ultron. Because The Avengers brought the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s Phase One to a close, it only seemed fitting that Ultron close Phase II and leave the fans waiting for the next major all-out Avenger-fest, Captain America: Civil War. But along comes Ant-Man, closing out Phase II and wedging itself between two event pictures. But what a wedge it is. Not only does Marvel (again) take another familiar film style—this time the ’50s sci-fi flick, cross-bred with a heist film—it makes it so much more than just another man-in-tights entry on a list. Besides the very effective scenes where Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) is miniaturized, there is a depth of character and a structure of relationship that is surprisingly impressive, and makes Lang something of a contemporary of (and dare I speculate, heir apparent to) Tony “Iron Man” Stark. Both are technically savvy, both have father/father-figure issues, and both are, in their own ways, tied to the MCU canon at a high and critical level, namely, the early days of S.H.I.E.L.D. (both also have strong women beside them). But while Tony is the “Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist,” Scott is the “Resourceful, Blue-Collar, Father-of-One Convict.” Sure, those are opposite sides of a coin, but it’s the same coin, and because of this clever and deep connection, I look forward more to the future of Ant-Man than any other MCU hero.

Nik Grozdanovic

Amy is overrated

Fame is evil. Something that most of us who’ve seen enough fiction and non-fiction films on the subject have no doubt gathered by now. Director Asif Kapadia doesn’t seem to think so, however, because that’s the just about the only message his doc Amy is sending out. Amy Whinehouse had an incredible voice; she was a naturally gifted jazz singer whose songwriting was basically diary entries broken down into poetic verses. Depending on individual closeness and knowledge of her personal demons, backstage abuses, and unfortunate circle of people, Amy will be hitting all kinds of chords. But, looked at objectively (or, as objectively as possible when judging any piece of artistic expression) we’re looking at a completely average, by-the-books, documentary that reveals very little real insight, and keeps hitting the same point over and over ad nauseam. At the time of writing this, Amy has won Best Documentary with both the LA Film Critics and New York Online Film Critics associations, making it that much more overrated. Wanna see a great documentary about a celebrity? Choose Listen To Me Marlon instead.

Crimson Peak is underrated

Guillermo del Toro might have directed his best film to date (time will tell if Pan’s Labyrinth and The Devil’s Backbone will be surpassed overall, but they certainly are on a technical level) and yet, no one’s really talking about Crimson Peak. Featuring a triplet of outstanding performances by Mia Wasikowska, Tom Hiddleston, and Jessica Chastain—the latter slipping into uncharted villainous territory like she’s been playing baddies her whole career—the film also drips volumes of atmosphere and boasts a production design to die for. With del Toro’s classic mesh of romance, horror, and seeking the beautiful in the monstrous, Crimson Peak manages to even add new layers to the director’s signature trademarks. Painted in thick Gothic brushstrokes and flowing more like a first edition Victorian novel than a 21st-century motion picture, it’s a fantastic ghost story made all the more compelling by being told mostly through resplendently old-fashioned imagery (costumes, set designs, etc.) A truly spellbinding experience that I implore everyone to seek out and get lost in.

Zachary Shevich

The Wolfpack is overrated

Coming off of The Wolfpack’s premiere at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, there was a lot of excitement around Crystal Moselle’s debut documentary as well as the lanky, longhaired clan of film geek Angulo brothers. The film took Sundance’s Best Documentary Feature award, the Angulos partnered with Vice Films to produce an experimental arts & crafts short film, and The Wolfpack received an overly positive review from me during the glow of the Tribeca Film Festival. At the time, Moselle’s discovery of a group of eccentric lo-fi filmmakers confined to a Lower East Side apartment by an abusive father was simply too compelling to ignore. Yet, their story remains an enigma—even months later. Moselle’s film raises twice as many questions and it answers. Her decisions to keep elements of the documentary and the Angulos’s timeline vague makes the liberation arch fall flat. I noted the filmmaker’s hesitation to dive deeply into her subjects in my April review of the film, but in retrospect that treatment is severely limiting. The approach denies curious viewers a fuller experience. The Wolfpack is a prime example of film’s subject matter exceeding the quality of the filmmaking around it.

Unfriended is underrated

Perhaps Unfriended wasn’t best suited for big screens. Watching it on the intimacy of a laptop monitor—the same way the film’s final girl Blaire (Shelley Hennig) experiences the action—creates an immensely chilling effect. Unfriended is a lot more than a riff about young people living their lives through technology. It’s a smart and effective thriller about a ghost that exploits the comforts of private, digital spaces that we create for ourselves online. Director Leo Gabriadze and writer Nelson Greaves ambitiously contain the entire story to a continuous shot of a glitchy computer monitor where the main character clicks through her iTunes library, her deceased friend’s Facebook photos and a group Skype chat infiltrated by the “hacker ghost.” Unfriended has the potential to rely on computer-generated gimmickry and “teen speak” but doesn’t. Gabriadze and Greaves gives each member of this friends group their own skeleton-filled closets, which allows the tension to stem from their increasingly tense dynamic. As the friends turn on one another, it shifts the attention away from an all-powerful digital demon and back to the computer users themselves. Sporadic use of some laptop-related gags (such as the diagetic soundtrack moments) punctuate an enjoyable, slightly campy horror with amusing comedic relief; however, Unfriended wastes no moment of its 83-minute runtime. Gabriadze & Greaves exhibit their mastery of elevating and deflating the stakes.

When N.W.A. glitched the mainstream radio system with their 1988 breakout album Straight Outta Compton, the five upstarts in black—Eazy-E, Dr. Dre, Ice Cube, MC Ren and DJ Yella—branded their fresh, documentary-style take on hip-hop as “reality rap.” They took the country on a sonic tour through Compton, and while the group found mega success, wider audiences weren’t comfortable associating the grisly street stories they heard on the record with their own “reality.” They couldn’t stomach that. Hence, “reality rap” never caught on; the more ostracizing term “gangsta rap” sat better with the mainstream media, as it allowed white audiences to keep “gangstas” like N.W.A. at arms length.

F. Gary Gray reintroduces us to N.W.A. on an intimate level with his music-fueled biopic Straight Outta Compton, chronicling the group’s rise to prominence, their eventual split, and the death of ringleader Eazy-E. Full of good performances by actors who each bear an eye-popping resemblance to their real-life counterparts, the movie works—most of the time. Gray and screenwriters Jonathan Herman and Andrea Berloff at times feel too handcuffed to the group’s well-documented history, breaking up the rhythm of the story to check off a minor, well-documented detail of the journey, no matter how emotionally irrelevant it may be. As a result, the film lacks the same unbridled artistic vitality and brashness its subjects wore on their chests as they roared “Fuck Tha Police” in front of crowds of thousands.

Prioritizing narrative flow and historical accuracy is a challenge that comes with every biopic, but Gray had added pressure; two of the film’s producers are Dr. Dre and Ice Cube themselves. Their involvement is a blessing in that the movie’s first half, focusing on the group’s humble beginnings in Compton, feels alive and authentic. It starts with a young Ice Cube (played by his doppelganger son O’Shea Jackson) and Dr. Dre (Corey Hawkins, another dead-ringer) dropping hard beats and rhymes on a small club crowd who’d never heard anything realer. Determined to unleash their musical vision on a larger audience (larger than their local club, anyway), they convince drug dealer Eazy-E (Jason Mitchell) to finance their dreams. They start up an indie record label called Ruthless Records and hop in the studio, cutting the landmark record the movie’s named after.

Watching the creation of the group’s classic records come to life on-screen is an unfettered joy as a fan. An early scene sees Eazy hop his “non-rapping ass” into the booth as he struggles to find the beat on the Cube-penned “Boyz-n-the-Hood,” squealing the lyrics until Dre cuts him off from the other side of the glass, laughing. After a quick, playful trash-talk exchange, Dre offers some pointed advice, pleading with Eazy to relax and spit the lyrics like he means it, as if he was literally cruisin’ down the street in his ’64. The camaraderie between the actors feels genuine as they jam out in the studio, and there’s not much more you could want than that. Aldis Hodge and Neil Brown Jr. play MC Ren and DJ Yella, respectively, but they’re essentially non-entities in the story. It’s tough to say, but it feels like their C-character status in the film is informed by the public’s perception of the group rather than their value as human beings in the five-way friendship.

When the group hits the stage to perform their protest anthems in front of sold-out arenas, the movie flirts with greatness. A reenactment of the group’s performance of “Fuck Tha Police” at Joe Louis arena in Detroit brings the house down. Before they can finish the song, Detroit police storm the stage and shove the rappers into a van in handcuffs. It’s an exhilarating scene and a poignant one, once it dawns on you that the level of police harassment and brutality hasn’t diminished a bit since N.W.A. lit a fire under the country’s ass back in the early ’90s.

The movie starts to stumble in its second half, in which the rappers’ tight bond starts to crumble under the weight of contract negotiations and management disputes. These showbiz maneuverings were, in fact, what led to the group’s split (and their infamous volley of dis tracks), but in detailing these dealings the film loses a lot of the electricity it generates in the first act. Fan service moments like Dre and Snoop Doggy Dogg conceiving “Nuthin But a G Thang” and 2Pac nodding his head to the piano-driven “California Love” beat for the first time are amusing and full of nostalgia, but they stick out like sore thumbs and interfere with the larger emotional arc.

Eazy-E emerges as the film’s most layered character, with most of the story’s drama emanating from his mentor-student (master-slave?) relationship with the group’s longtime manager, Jerry Heller (Paul Giamatti), the first big supporter of the group who went on to reveal his true stripes as a cunning manipulator (“You’re smarter than this, Eazy!” he repeats) and shameless scam artist (“That’s how business works!”). Mitchell has the most challenging role of all, as our allegiance to Eazy shifts and sways several times throughout the movie. Eazy made some terrible mistakes and had a rabid ego, but was also a visionary and a symbol of strength, especially when he faced death at the hands of AIDS in 1995. Mitchell captures all of the colors of Eazy’s legacy, and there isn’t much more you could ask of him than that.

It’s freaky how much Jackson looks like his dad. Ice Cube is arguably the most lovable/toughest rapper of all time, and Jackson nails that dichotomy with that signature furrowed brow and big, toothy grin. Hawkins nails Dre’s whole “silent rage” thing, but the writers fail him in that they don’t explore the beauty of Dre’s musical thought process, something that’s earned the headphone mogul a reputation as being one of the most gifted music producers in history. With Dre’s deep involvement in the movie’s production, one would hope for a more penetrating insight into the way his mind works, artistically.

Influential and widely revered as they were, the N.W.A. crew weren’t exactly beacons of morality back then, and Gray mostly doesn’t shy away from that fact. Misogyny and violence were significant pieces of the group’s identity, but the movie is selective in its reflection of these less flattering characteristics. The women in the film are universally objectified, with bare, gyrating female bodies populating the screen on the regular. The party scenes look like booty-tastic ’90s rap videos, and rightfully so; this is an example of Gray staying true to the times and the mentality of the group. Like it or not, this is what the hip-hop scene looked like back then. There’s no mention of Dre’s history of violence against women, however, which, unfortunately, makes the story feel less complete.