Directing the sequel to a film you previously starred in? Makes sense given Pitch Perfect’s formula. How about reviving America’s most recognizable trio of woman super-spies? Sure, singing and espionage go hand in hand. But helming the origin story of one of the weirdest roadside attractions … fuck it, why not?

Elizabeth Banks’ Cocaine Bear is — perhaps needless to say — a strange beast. Imagine if Kangaroo Jack mated with Final Destination, and then the baby blew at least 200 rails. What follows is a mostly fun romp with a few too many storylines that sobers the woodland rage before it really takes off.

Cocaine Bear wastes no time getting its truth out of the way. A drug smuggler accidentally plummets to his death while offloading hundreds of ounces of Colombian sugar. Shortly thereafter, a black bear eats it. And thus ends the film’s historical ties. Instead of dying from a massive overdose, the bear (aka “Pablo Escobear”) goes on a daylong rampage that would make Tony Montana jealous.

Meanwhile, a mother tries to find her school-ditching daughter; three delinquents stumble upon a portion of the coke; a grieving widower goes on a recovery mission with his drug-pin father’s muscle; a detective tries to execute the biggest narcotics bust across Tennessee and Georgia; and at least three other tangents too many rounds out this black comedy of errors.

When Cocaine Bear’s at its best, it’s a gorgeous, gory and gag-filled mess. Dismembered legs, tragic timing and a monster coked out of its gourd is hilarious, albeit rarely terrifying. By the time the film’s star crashes into premature hibernation, fatal whoopsies might have a higher body count than the bear itself.

Unfortunately, screenwriter Jimmy Warden’s compulsion to build intrigue through needless characters detracts from what the tagline asked we “get in line” to see. It has as big a cast as It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World with about an eighth of the charm. It’s saved by a few clutch performances, notably comedian Scott Seiss, Margo Martindale and the late, great Ray Liotta.

Cocaine Bear’s first hit is hard to beat, but each subsequent line is met with diminishing returns, save a ridiculous ambulance chase. The film is a reminder, however, that creature features should never take themselves too seriously. Plus, it opens up the door for other insane, drug-induced animals to follow. Ketamine Koala or Shroom Shark, anybody? Hell, Tusko, an elephant that died after being injected with 279mg of LSD in 1962, could very well be Cocaine Bear’s spiritual successor. —Daniel Bokemper

Get it at Amazon.

You’ll be happy to hear Knock at the Cabin isn’t The Happening’s spiritual successor. But it is a prime example of M. Night Shyamalan getting in his own way. Again.

Subtlety, ambiguity and refrain were never the director’s forte, but they didn’t always sabotage his films, either. Here, Shyamalan chips away at an otherwise solid premise courtesy of Knock’s solid source material, Paul Tremblay’s 2018 novel, The Cabin at the End of the World. What’s left isn’t exactly a bad flick, but it’s leagues below what it could’ve been.

It’s easy to dismiss Shyamalan. After all, we’re far removed from what made Unbreakable and Signs endearing. Even so, it’s not unreasonable to hope with the right character, the director still can manage to tug heartstrings between his hallmark twists. Wen, a young girl played by Kristen Cui, could share a cubby with The Sixth Sense’s Cole.

One morning collecting grasshoppers, she’s approached by Leonard, an utter brick shithouse played by Dave Bautista (2021’s Dune). Along with a mismatched trio of colleagues, Leonard forces Wen into her parents’ cabin, trapping the family inside. Once there, Leonard’s group offers them a simple choice: Sacrifice one of themselves to prevent the apocalypse.

Tension builds immediately, and the cinematography does well to make a seemingly cosmic scenario much more intimate. Overall, how the film was shot could’ve been more consistent, but that’s minor. The horrendous news footage, however, can’t be overlooked. These segments are both poorly animated and actively crush the air of doubt that animates the story’s conflict. Shyamalan finds a creative way to nullify that, too, but not before the fake CNN asides do it first.

Pair those with crashing planes on par with Birdemic’s nosediving doves, and it becomes hilariously hard to take Knock seriously. It’s baffling — and frustrating — to see the director deliberately muddle a natural sense of mystique.

This isn’t even considering the inevitable, poorly executed twist. Doubting the power of his symbolism, Shyamalan delivers nothing short of an insult to the audience as character after character painstakingly break down the meaning of their ordeal. Meanwhile, elements that would serve the film’s soft mystery are asides, sometimes brought up once and never to be alluded to again.

Knock at the Cabin is far from Shyamalan’s worst film. What makes it painful is how promising it was. It has all the pieces to match and possibly exceed his best work; if only he didn’t twist his ankle when trying to stick the landing. —Daniel Bokemper

Get it at Amazon.