Vol. 2, the sophomore effort from our band of oddball galactic custodians, is a worthy compilation of riffs from the original backed by even more irreverent and humorous jams. And Baby Groot is immeasurably cute.

As our pals are earning praise as defenders of the cosmos, a certain rebellious trash panda cannot help but breach contract. This introduces us to the fantastic ineptitude of all facets of the Sovereigns under the guidance of Ayesha (Debicki). These bungling beings certainly advance the comedy of Vol. 2 and become a welcome ingredient to a narrative jambalaya started with a familiar familial roux.

Amidst the zany leadership of Quill (Pratt), an alternative comedic interaction of Drax (Bautista) with Mantis (Klementieff) emerged, complementing the interplay of Quill with Gamora (Zaldana) and Rocket (Cooper) with Baby Groot (Diesel) and everyone else. Yet, as much as we enjoyed this film, we questioned the casting of Russell (without an eyepatch) as Ego thinking the role deserved the curly locks of Robert Plant to strengthen the musical thread woven throughout the franchise.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, and its spectacular imagery, defends 4.1 napkins out of 5, which includes our automatic 0.5 napkin deduction for prominently featuring a Cat Stevens tune.

Your Name illustrates the signature charm and imaginative storytelling that we adore in, and expect from, this mystical genre. And like most fantasy, a malleable perceived reality and open-mindedness will allow for an incredible experience.

The allure of Shinkai’s piece (the highest grossing Anime film, topping Miyazaki’s masterpiece, Spirited Away) might be best spoken via the language of the movies: imagine the fascinating confusion and amnesiac communication of Memento with the cosmic interplay of a better version of Interstellar. That’s plenty of Chris Nolan so fold in the intelligent youthful angst of The Edge of Seventeen to ground the film and foster a credible teen drama.

The first half is humorous as we oscillate between our country girl, Mitsuha, and our young man in Tokyo, Taki. As the story presents in beautiful and geometric imagery, we are filled with balancing amounts of hope and fear as the conclusion draws near. Early on, the weaving of ceremonial braids suggests a singular flow of time. However, as this race to remember unfolds, we are consistently pushed to believe otherwise.

Your Name simply represents the joy of great stories. Taki and Mitsuha leave each other reminders on 4.84 napkins out of 5.

The Fate of the Furious banks on loyal and curious cinematic rubbernecking to drive us to these films. And, mostly, we forgive its glaring flaws for the merriment of the show. However, with repetition of story and recycling of catch phrases, The Future of the Furious doesn’t seem as bright as it once did in, say, Tokyo.

This current installment has our fearless Dominic Toretto (Diesel) forced into rogue status in the style of Jack Bauer (clearly just a point of reference and not a comparison) while former adversaries and family unite to unearth the truth behind Toretto’s uncharacteristic actions. The alluring interaction of Cipher (Theron) and Dom does well to preserve her mysterious motif until the ideal moment of revelation. We found Theron an interesting choice because F. Gary Gray (Italian Job) seemed to attempt an iced version of George Miller’s brilliant Fury Road sequences to no avail, of course, but it surely brought concluding excitement.

This is a turning point as Hobbs (The Rock) and Shaw (Statham) are laughing at their lines outtake style, which is both comforting and concerning. Dom and his furious family must share F8’s 2.1 napkins out of 5 at this Sunday’s dinner.

The appeal of Jordan Peele is that his comedic intelligence fosters accuracy. And with the stew of notions in Get Out, it is no surprise that social commentary and genre defiance flow in perfect symmetry in this wildly entertaining film.

The young Rose (Williams) and Chris (Kaluuya) reluctantly prepare to visit her uppity parents who are unaware of their daughter’s interracial relationship. Upon arrival, a cloaking eeriness floats through the air as we realize that Chris’ skin color probably isn’t a surprise. Rose is ideally sarcastic about the reaction of her parents Missy (Keener) and Dean (Whitford) but an odd reality presents itself around the house.

About the time sci-fi and horror are in command, we are brought back to comedy in one fell swoop with harmless Georgina (Gabriel) walking across the window to a frightful musical crescendo. It is a full circle moment and a reminder of the intended playful takeaway ultimately sustained throughout by Rod (Howery), Chris’ TSA agent best friend.

Jordan Peele, for us, channels Simon Pegg to cross all classes of films but cannot quite cross into the Film Clas elite as we take out 4.49 napkins out of 5 for Get Out.

Superficially, Kedi is an 80-minute Cats of Instagram post that alone prompts jubilation here at Film Clas. But these are the Cats of Istanbul, scratching their legacy into the street posts of old Constantinople for thousands of years; positively and profoundly affecting the lives of those who voluntarily take care of them.

The film is buoyed by majestic flyover shots of the ancient city. These perspectives allow time to fathom the vast and labyrinthine nature of Istanbul in the human eye and imagine the metropolitan cat tree at street level. Then, director Ceyda Torun remarkably places us side by side with the cats as they saunter the nooks and crannies accompanied by coordinated music perfectly synced to each of the cat’s personalities.

Those interviewed were observers and caretakers alike; each emotionally, and sometimes spiritually, connected to an individual or the lot. While a young lady admires a cat’s ability to express it’s femininity, a baker admires a cat’s restraint to tap at the window only when it is hungry. It’s a cultural essay.

This was certainly a treat for Film Clas. I didn’t cry too much. Kedi manipulates 4.86 napkins out of 5 while sliding lip balm off the coffee table.

Logan, the film, could not be only action and angst but it had to finish. Logan, our apathetic hero, is vain and vagabond but clearly had to show humility at some point. This pending clash of story and attitude of character kept challenging each other to stabilize into a film that we didn’t even know could be this good.

The dusty southern border, home base for our protagonist, exhibits the desolate near future. We find the troublesome pupil caring for the aging and surly Professor X (Stewart) and their isolated tin can hideout is a revealing glimpse of the current state of mutantkind. We then meet Laura (Keen) and the narrative turns.

Laura and Logan (Jackman) interact in much the same manner as Logan and the Professor; salty but caring and extremely humorous. Both equally insubordinate and arrogant yet flawed and dependent, they create some of the most memorable moments in series history. And there were no subtitles because they were unnecessary. This relationship dominates as their story bates our attention as sinister Pierce (Holbrook) draws near.

Logan claws into the Film Clas elite, putting an ‘X’ through 4.83 napkins out of 5 with a gifted final scene.

Hacksaw Ridge bears the burden of its director. And that’s too bad because above the violence, there is valor. And muddled within the religion overtones, there is a good story to be told. But by the time Doss (Garfield) is symbolically lowered from the ridge as if he was on the cross, enough was enough.

Yet, the sequence where Doss delivers the men to safety, one after another, is some of the most powerful imagery in the cinema. This film exemplifies the duality of a Gibson offering. At some point, the sincerity and heroism of the film just becomes lost in messages.

The folksy take on life in 1940s Virginia is somewhat unbearable but Garfield spins this character into credibility with conviction and the slightest self-deprecation. We believe that someone is this faith driven because of his portrayal. And because it is tossed in our faces. Also, Vaughn crosses over into war drama but remains somewhat in character, donating some much needed comic relief.

This is a bold film, especially when it pilfers scenes from Saving Private Ryan. We appreciate the story but conscientiously object to awarding Film Clas elite status. Hacksaw Ridge reports with 2.9 napkins out of 5.

In Hidden Figures, we find the most inspiring story of aspiring women. But the narrative becomes slightly grounded with mission control drama and corny emphatic moments which evoke a feelgood rather than a fervent and profound cinematic atmosphere.

The character of these ladies in a time of gender and racial bias is heroic. Vaughn (Spencer), Johnson (Henson) and Jackson (Monae) spend the upward trajectory of the film finding their way around obstacles and offensive norms to have their voices heard and intelligence appreciated. Vaughn draws our biggest applause, marching up to the starched white shirts of the computing future with flair, confidence and instinct.

What goes up must come down and the descent of this film unfolds with an uncharacteristic public plea from Johnson, who we know did not seek publicity, just fairness and equality. This singular moment awakened Harrison (Costner) to the systemic biases tripping up NASA in the space race, really? And the typecast of Jim Parsons was irrelevant as he simply left the impression of a poor manager of people.

A gallant story alone cannot propel you to the final frontier of the Film Clas elite. Hidden Figures is a go for 3.32 napkins out of 5.

Silence is Marty Scorsese’s 28 year spiritual project. Thankfully he took study breaks during this venture to make good movies. But, hey, the scenery is really stunning.

It’s not terribly boring as we become invested in character and story. It’s not too long because we love being at the movies. However, this film, referencing Shusaku Endo’s 1966 novel of the same same, funnels us to its extremely flawed conclusive half featuring annoying repetition and a gimmicky finish. It could nearly be considered dark humor but comedy rarely exists in religious tales, unless considering Monty Python’s parody. However, the resolute abandonment of the film’s title introduces mockery and this is clearly not the intention.

It is fair to say our two missionaries, Fathers Garupe (Driver) and Rodrigues (Garfield), do well with their physical and emotional roles. It was Rodrigues’ unbreakable faith that gave us the little faith we had in the film. It is also important to note the wry mannerisms and expressions of The Inquisitor (Ogata).

And scene. Scorsese and his impassioned endeavor conclude in mediocrity, more or less. Although it is a spectacle, Silence is not golden and converts only 2.1 napkins out of 5 in its favor.

In Lion, we are all aboard with our pint-sized stowaway.

Young Saroo (Pawar) is helpless in the unfamiliar sea of humanity at the train station in Calcutta and yet shows heaps of admirable resilience. He is able to navigate the rough streets and hurdle language barriers to hold onto our compassion with fervor. The kid is amazing.

Then, in a quite jarring temporal transition, a fully grown Saroo (Patel) emerges to carry the emotional baton for the duration. With the looming tendency to overact to attain the favor of an audience completely invested in the young version of himself, Patel was able to smooth the edges and deliver.

Sue (Kidman), Saroo’s adoptive mother, charges into the film conveying kindness and spirit and then heartache as Saroo becomes distant. Some of Lion’s most affecting moments are found within this dissolution, and subsequent affirmation, of the bond between Saroo and Sue.

The film only lags with the abruptness of Saroo’s search obsession and the blasè, yet consequential, love story with Lucy (Mara). Lion is intense and memorable, coming in at 4.43 napkins out of 5 which, according to Google Earth, lies just outside the radius of the Film Clas elite.