A Mighty Wind (2003)

Director: Christopher Guest

Cast: Catherine O’Hara, Eugene Levy, Harry Shearer, Michael McKean

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. I’m not sure I’ve ever mentioned this in these reviews, but my parents were local folk musicians growing up. I was well into my twenties before I realized most families didn’t generate dulcimer albums in the 90s. So, of all Guest’s movies, this one probably hits closer to home than most.

Did I Like It: No review of the film in the early months of 2026 would be complete without mentioning Catherine O’Hara. I spent a lot of my review for Home Alone (1990) singing the praises of her career in total, but it’s hard not to watch this film specifically and be blown away  by her strengths as a dramatic actor. There are laughs-a-plenty with the New Main Street Singers and the organizaers of the concert, that she and Levy are allowed to exist in a sad love story that has already ended by the time we meet the characters. And before you think that the end (of the rainbow, if you will) is a better place for either Mitch (Levy) or Mickey (O’Hara), hear O’Hara’s plaintive wail, singing for her new husband’s (Jim Piddock) catheter company.

Even though it is only just over twenty years old now, there are moments that feel like they might not threaten to age unfortunately. If you read the final moment with Marta Shubb (Shearer) as “Oh, this person is a transgender woman. That, in and of itself is objectively hilarious.” It becomes a low-level Ace Ventura moment and might very well ruin whatever other pathos and actually good music the film has to offer. I tend to take it not on that front, but as a genuine human moment. Marta was there all along, and she’s just as a much of a member of the Folksman as she ever was. Maybe it’s not throoughly earned by the movie that preceded it*…

But at least it isn’t Ace Ventura.

*Is interest in skin care an indicator of being transgender? I’m honestly asking.

Home Alone (1990)

Director: Chris Columbus

Cast: Macaulay Culkin, Joe Pesci, Daniel Stern, Catherine O’Hara

Have I Seen It Before: Oh, sure. I’m six years old in 1990, it would have been a marvel of avoidance—or a set of parents far more concerned about cartoonish violence than the ones I had—to somehow get to my 40s without having seen it probably half a dozen times.

Did I Like It: I’d be remiss to start this review without a word about Catherine O’Hara. That’d be the big reason why the review gets written now, as she passed away on Friday. Shee could play the imminently believable Kate McCallister here and seamlessly switch gears in the span of just a few years between the hateful/delightful Delia Deetz in Beetlejuice (1988), Sally the Ragdoll in The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993) and spend most of the rest of the next decade regularly being the best thing in a series of Christopher Guest movies where there were plenty of candidates for the MVP. I don’t say this lightly, but: She shared and was ultimately the heir to Madeline Kahn’s reign as the livewire in whatever movie she appeared. Now that they are both gone, I can’t think of talent that reaches anywhere close.

Yeah. Pretty safe bet that a review of A Mighty Wind is coming pretty quick.

But let’s try and make this review about something this movie offers that doesn’t get talked about all that much. There’ve been a dozen times when I seriously gave consideration to adding a field in the early matter detailing the credited screenwriter. One can make all the arguments about the auteur theory they can, and there are plenty of films where those arguments are unassailable, but I think the real reason I didn’t include the field is the prospect of going back to all of the previously written reviews and having to add that info. This film does feel of a piece with other Chris Columbus films, but that may be in no small part because this film was such a success that studios continued to hire him with the hope that he would bring some of Home Alone to those subsequent films. But we really need to talk about John Hughes’ work here. From all angles, this is obviously a family comedy, but it has the seemingly breezy, complicated plotting of the best thrillers. One can see the raw material for Kevin’s (Culkin, with enough charisma to spare that one never questions why they built a movie around him) war on crime all around the house, but the moments that drift in during act one that make the conceit work are unfurled so as not to make the viewer aware that they are seeing a plot unfold, but that Christmas is chaotic and anything can happen. Definitely, Hughes’ screenwriting work is not given enough credit here.

The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

Director: Henry Selick

Cast: Danny Elfman, Chris Sarandon, Catherine O’Hara, William Hickey

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. It’s one of the clearer memories I have of being excited about a movie as a kid, being a little disappointed by it at the time*, and then realizing within a few short years that I was a fool.

Did I Like It: Just as the Star Wars prequels might be the most cogent argument for the auteur theory in semi-modern moviemaking, this film is its antithesis. If the director is the author of the film, then this should be thought of as Henry Selick’s The Nightmare Before Christmas.

But it really, really isn’t.

It makes Tim Burton such a fascinating filmmaker. He can have such a singular, easily identifiable point of view. In some films (Batman Returns (1992), Edward Scissorhands (1990)) that vision comes through. In others, (Batman (1989), Planet of The Apes (2001)) he’s a hired hand, meant only to offer his name, and almost no artistic vision to the the proceedings.

And then there’s this film, which might be the most fully realized manifestation of the Tim Burton image, and he wasn’t the director.

I’m not going to say that this is my favorite movie of all time, or even that it ranks in the top twenty. Ultimately pure Burtonianism might work in small doses, but it is one of the most successful mastering of a film succeeding on its own terms. There is never a moment of doubt—unlike Jack Skellington’s (Elfman singing, Sarandon for everything else) arc—as to what this film wants to be. Every single decision serves the mise en scene.

And if that wasn’t enough to recommend the film: I’ve even started to like the songs. Amazing what thirty years can accomplish.

*Not one commercial made it clear that I was walking into a musical. Nine-year-olds really need to be warned about such things.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice (2024)

Director: Tim Burton

Cast: Michael Keaton, Winona Ryder, Catherine O’Hara, Jenna Ortega

Have I Seen it Before: Clearly, never. I did once have a dream when I was kid that I had lost my VHS copy of Beetlejuice 2, and was bereft to have the film leave my life. There was a time* when I wasn’t even sure I wanted a sequel to Beetlejuice (1988), but the Michael Keaton Rule** does prevail.

Then, I got more and more excited about the whole thing. Couple that with the odyssey that it took to actually get me into a theater on opening weekend, and I would have liked any old thing projected on the screen.

Did I Like It: I’ve seen the movie twice now—once to let it all wash over me, and a second to take more diligent notes for the soon-to-be-recorded episode of Beyond the Cabin in the Woods—and I’m happy to report it is not only pretty good, it is largely very good, and I’m not damning it with faint praise. It’s easily Tim Burton’s best film since they started beginning years with the number “2” and likely his best film since Ed Wood (1994). Keaton is brilliant again in the role, this time completely game for the prospect of re-visiting his 80s triumphs***. Ryder is a delight as Lydia, perpetually bewildered by the scope of her life thirty-plus years after first deciding she can see ghosts. O’Hara can do almost anything, and once again does effortless work to steal every scene she graces. Newcomer Jenna Ortega does something I didn’t think the film would be capable of and creates a new character out of Astrid, when the film would have likely been forgiven for just making Lydia’s daughter a 1:1 translation of the mother.

That’s the most delightful surprise in the film: for being a legacy sequel, the film is largely disinterested in fan service beyond the obligatory. Belafonte’s “Day-O (The Banana Boat Song)” makes the briefest of appearances, but the needle drops are all trying to forge something of a new path. The original film’s secret strengths were its army of strange and unusual**** dead people, and the fact that its depiction of the afterlife is a near Kafkaesque exploration of the bureaucratic. Both elements are in full force here.

In fact, the only real complaint I have about the film is one I didn’t think I was going to have going into the theater. Elfman’s score is just a rehashing of tracks from the original, with a menu of new noises added into the mix. I wanted more here, but then I realized it has been a very, very long time since Elfman wrote a really memorable score. Burton stepped up to the plate here, but it’s just a bit disappointing that Elfman didn’t do the same thing.

*It was never more profound than immediately after seeing The Flash (2023), around the time this film was already in production. I probably had that thought more than a few times during the endless series of stops and starts in the process. I am happy to report that the film doesn’t end with Betelgeuse being exorcised and being replaced by a different kind of Betelgeuse played by George Clooney. Had they pulled that trick again, I would not have been okay, and I said so.

**Sometimes called the Multiplicity (1996) amplifier, wherein a film is inherently better

***Man, the more that I think about The Flash, the more I have problems with it, huh?

****Apparently I tripped into more fan service in that sentence than the film is interested in for its runtime.