Martin's Musings

Before every installment of Jackass, whether on the small or big screen, there’s a warning, explaining that what you’re about to see are stunts performed by “professionals” and you shouldn’t try them for yourself.

Actually, the first and still-iconic warning said that “neither you nor your dumb little buddies should attempt anything” they see. That language has now been updated to be a bit more politically correct and legally protective (fingers crossed!), but the point remains: Jackass is the cinematic equivalent of watching your dumbest friends make catastrophically bad decisions — and then laughing because somehow everyone survives. No one should try to replicate what they see.

That, of course, is a tall order in these days of social media and endless “content,” when everyone is competing for eyeballs, and everyone is copying from other creators when they see something work. But so far, so good. For the most part.

Jackass, which first debuted as a TV show on MTV in 2000, pre-dated social media. Which means we’ve been laughing along with Johnny Knoxville, Steve-O, Chris Pontius, Wee Man, Dave England, Danger Ehren, Preston Lacy, director Jeff Tremaine, and company for more than 25 years now.

Their latest big-screen installment — Jackass: Best and Last — serves as a gleefully stupid victory lap, a retrospective, and possibly a valedictory for this lovable gang of idiots.

When you go to a dinner party, you never quite know what to expect. One thing is promised, but the night can take unexpected turns — menu-wise, people-wise, conversation-wise, or otherwise.

In other words, when it comes to dinner parties, you should always expect the unexpected.

Such is the case with Olivia Wilde’s excellent new film, The Invite, which follows that kind of scenario.

Adapted from Cesc Gay’s Spanish film The People Upstairs (Els veïns de dalt), with a screenplay by Rashida Jones and Will McCormack, The Invite centers on Angela and Joe (Wilde and Seth Rogen), a long-married couple whose relationship is falling apart. Tensions are already high between them when they decide (or, rather, they feel pressured) to host their mysterious upstairs neighbors, Pina and Hawk (Penelope Cruz and Edward Norton), for a dinner party. 

Steven Spielberg has spent much of his career asking us to look up at the sky in wonder. From Close Encounters of the Third Kind to E.T. and even the darker War of the Worlds, his best alien stories have balanced spectacle with genuine human emotion. 

His latest film, Disclosure Day, is clearly trying to join that club. Not surprisingly, given its pedigree, it’s an entertaining, ambitious ride. That said, it never quite reaches the heights of Spielberg’s other extraterrestrial adventures.

The metaphor is almost too obvious.

In Daniel Roher’s Tuner, Leo Woodall plays Niki, a talented young piano tuner whose life is complicated by hyperacusis, a neurological condition that causes everyday sounds to be perceived as painfully loud or overwhelming. To cope, he wears a hearing aid. When things are less predictable, he wears special noise-cancelling headphones.

The film is hitting theaters at the start of the summer movie season, a time of year when loud and overwhelming are kind of the trend, and when more delicate sounds — the kind Niki helps clients preserve — require a more trained ear.

In that same spirit, Tuner is counter-programming for moviegoers with slightly more refined tastes, a film that stands out among the usual summer offerings at the multiplex.

If Hollywood thinks a man becoming a stay-at-home dad is still comedy gold in 2026, somebody should probably tell them that the joke expired around the same time shoulder pads and cassette tapes did. 

The new movie The Breadwinner is an updated take on a concept that was endearingly portrayed in 1983, back when Michael Keaton was vacuuming the curtains in Mr. Mom. The difference is that Mr. Mom was considered timely and culturally relevant during the recession of the early 1980s. Back then, the idea of a suburban dad struggling with housework and childcare was inherently hilarious and socially provocative. This new film mostly just feels stranded in the past.

Nearly seven years after The Mandalorian helped launch the Disney+ streaming service, Mando and his sidekick, Grogu (aka Baby Yoda), hit the big screen in Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu. 

The result is pretty much exactly what you’d expect: an extended episode of the show with bigger explosions, some fan service, and just enough heart to keep you engaged for more than two hours.