As memorably harmonized by The Free Design, kites are fun. But they’re not that fun. And so it is with Killer Kites, a decent but ultimately self-immolating creature-feature parody from the makers of the more enjoyable Sewer Gators. This follow-up marks the third movie within the BPU, aka the “Brock Peterson Universe,” so named (by me, just now) for director/producer Paul Dale’s recurring role as an obnoxious TV news reporter.

Also reappearing, albeit in a different role, is leading lady Manon Pages. Here, she’s Abby, whose brother is killed is by a kite passed down from their dead grandfather. (Just roll with it.) Perhaps a visit to the Kuntz Yeast Bread Festival can clear up what’s going on? A total goof with purposely awful effects to poke fun at Birdemic, that’s what, with a few Twin Peaks homages thrown in. The more you’re familiar with those, the more you’re in tune with the movie.

Dale and co-director/writer Austin Frosch exhibit good-natured humor even when the jokes are rimshot-ready bad. To wit:

Abby: “You just want to get in my pants.”
Daniel: “Please, Abby, I can’t fit into those.”

As witnessed in a training montage and semi-buried in-jokes (like “PUT STRING HERE” seen amid the thumbtacked pages and photos on a crazed character’s clichéd wall o’ research), the players seem to be having a ball. Not all of it transfers as well as Sewer Gators did — even Pages seems a little uncomfortable compared to last time — but how many other movies dare to depict kite attacks in 1956 Berlin? —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.

Indeed, BlackBerry is based on the true story of the early aughts’ favorite smartphone (until the iPhone, of course).

I know, I know: “A movie about a wireless device?” But once upon a time, I wondered how a movie about the creation of Facebook would be, could be any good, and look how that turned out.

BlackBerry isn’t up to the masterpiece level of David Fincher’s The Social Network, but it’s great. These days, in a franchise-drowned market, that’s something to celebrate. Leave it to Canada — specifically, director/co-writer Matt Johnson (Operation Avalanche) — to export the kind of adults-appealing dramedy America used to excel at making before discovering, I dunno, movies about buff, laser-fingered dudes in leather space pajamas.

Mike Lazaridis (Jay Baruchel, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice) is a realist in a Members Only jacket and thick glasses. Doug Fregin (Johnson, The Dirties) is an idealist with omnipresent sweatband and a Velcro Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles wallet. Together, the engineers are 50/50 partners in a revolutionary invention. They just can’t get anyone interested until they meet Jim Balsillie (Glenn Howerton, 2020’s The Hunt), an arrogant-AF tech exec who, smelling a golden goose, makes a Hail Mary investment in them after being fired from his job.

As we already know, Balsillie’s instinct in the potential of the duo’s gizmo proves dead-on correct. As you might expect, with enormous success, a fractured friendship follows. Certain egos balloon so big, they merit inclusion in Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. With millions rolling in, corners are cut to make even more. For a while, it appears Gordon Gecko‘s “Greed is good” credo works. Until the SEC gets wind of illegal practices.

If you know Howerton only from TV’s It’s Sunny in Philadelphia and A.P. Bio, prepare yourself. Bald and brooding, he’s rage incarnate in three-figure suspenders — the intimidating-shark type the late Miguel Ferrer played in spades, both scary and scary-good. Howerton is at once hilarious (although not in ways his fans are used to) and delivers a dramatic performance legitimately worthy of awards consideration.

As is BlackBerry itself. Not unlike the satisfaction “CrackBerry” users got from the clicks of its keyboard, its many highs hit with dopamine bumps. Under Johnson’s purview and ace sense of balance, what initially — and worriedly — resembles another handheld aping of workplace sitcoms like The Office quickly grounds itself as a whip-smart account of one of Big Tech’s greatest success stories and greatest cautionary tales of hubris. In contrast to its subject, however, the film never fails. —Rod Lott