A rebellion is compelling because it generates introspective queries. Is this something I can believe in? Can I make a difference? It doesn’t have to be violent and is most often the opposite, actually. In Birth of a Nation, Nate Parker takes us through a rousing and shockingly important uprising in our history with full commitment and energy.

And, unfortunately, Nat Turner (Parker) is the only character we truly get to know. Parker produced, directed, starred in and wrote this historical piece which left himself to bear all of the burden, and criticism. I think he could have used a little help, both in front of and behind the lens.

The story is chronologically swift but the pace was extremely slow. In order to portray Turner’s literacy, the film started in his childhood and then accelerated to fatherhood, which was rather abrupt. I know this works under other circumstance but it was slightly off for this portrayal.

The script was dominated by scripture which defaulted away from dialogue and there was a growing amount of conflict that was never developed but culminated in extreme violence. Birth of a Nation can only swaddle itself in 2.8 napkins out of 5.

In Hunt for the Wilderpeople, Taika Waititi searches for our emotions underneath a woven tapestry of genius comedy. It is a joy to watch this interplay and celebrate a level of cleverness unique to this brilliant filmmaker.

Waititi and his acumen are on display from the start as Ricky Baker (Dennsion) is introduced with an offbeat list of his calculated offenses.

As Uncle Hec (Neill) and Ricky gain momentum on the run, Paula (House) and the rest of law enforcement display an outrageous and inept charm. Ricky and Hec are subjected to unintended consequences that keep layering to form a gloriously uplifting movie drawing upon such topics as coping with loss, foster care, growing up, growing old and patience. Even the most painfully sad moment is punctuated with a tactfully humorous barb.

Sam Neill is a wonderful grump who arcs away from curmudgeon to deliver a truly heartfelt performance and Rhys Darby cameos to perfection as the eccentric Psycho Sam.

We welcome Waititi back to the Film Clas Elite with 4.9 napkins out of 5 and honor Ricky Baker with this thoughtfully prepared haiku:

Here in Burlington
This film made us laugh out loud
Popcorn is all gone

Someone should have blown the whistle on Oliver Stone. The lethargy he brought to Snowden painted the entire story as mundane and caked in a deluge of security jargon and phony ideas of importance. Compelling? Not really. Pulse-pounding? Nope.

Since much of this particular story is cloaked in secrecy, it allows for unusual creative freedom within a biography. This licensed Stone to interpret and fabricate a story stemming from what is known and essentially piggyback on an Academy Award winning documentary. Certainly a unique approach.

There might be more substance to this story. But maybe not and, in order to draw out the film, the relationship between Snowden (Gordon-Levitt) and Linsday (Woodley) was sifted to the forefront. And that, along with the average teen novel acting of Woodley, sealed the fate of this picture.

The dialogue was unnecessarily heroic. The supporting cast had little to support. Gordon-Levitt forced a surprisingly timid guise for someone as arrogant as Edward Snowden actually seems. No matter your persuasion regarding the politics, the film certainly disappoints and lacks audacity.

Snowden has asylum in Russia and is a similar distance away from the Film Clas Elite, landing only 2.1 napkins out of 5.

Sully is a captivating and strong film for 208 seconds. Then again, as those 208 seconds are revisited. We revisit them again. And then again. This recurring insight into the on board poise of Captain Sullenberger most likely does not approach the reality of his valiance. Thankfully Eastwood double and triple-dipped into our predisposed emotions to carry us through the minutia of the remaining 88 minutes, give or take.

The film feeds off our memory of the event from television, our imagination of actually being a passenger or the introspective ideas of our own personal mortality. And this thrilling momentum is halted by redirection to a nit-picky and forced conflict with the meddling NTSB questioning the gutsy decision making of Sully. Throw in a couple of sluggish backstories concerning a few of the passengers and we just want to get back in the cockpit staring down the Hudson River…again.

The point is that I really do not care about the NTSB investigation. Ergo, to construct a film centered around the hearings was a poor decision at best. Even with the great Tom Hanks in the Captain’s seat, it’s wheels down for the film Sully, fitting only 2.4 napkins out of 5 in its carry-on.

Nick Cave wrote the score but Taylor Sheridan wrote the script. Brilliant music supporting average screenwriting. It is really that simple. Sheridan’s uncanny ability to write poor roles portrayed by excellent actors is well documented, at least here on Film Clas (see Sicario).

We are privy to the difference between Toby (Pine) and Tanner (Foster) from the first heist as the dichotomous brothers wrangle over methods. Tanner is the rash ex-con and Toby needs the cash. We are peppered with debt relief propaganda as this Robin Hood-esque venture boils down to a middle finger to the banks threatening to foreclose their family’s land. Gosh, so much potential squandered.

I never felt any empathy for either of the brothers. In fact, I disliked both of them.

Marcus Hamilton (Bridges), the tired and reluctantly retiring Texas Ranger who seemingly speaks through a trumpet mute and trades insults with his Mexican/Native American partner (Birmingham), rejuvenates the film in spots. He adds a panache the film grasps for by shear perseverance and nerve.

The Howard Brothers run amuck with poor planning and muddled escape routes to rob only 2.9 napkins out of 5, reminding us that disappointing films are more unfortunate than poor films.

Ben Cash (Viggo), ironically named as he mocks capitalism or daftly named after the musical outlaw, Johnny, is our partially reluctant yet somewhat eager protagonist. And he absolutely prevails with humor, attitude and humility.

Early in the film, the camera zooms away to show Ben with all six kids stuck to the side of an enormous rock face. This one frame allows brilliant insight into the will he has instilled. He has them reading constantly, running everywhere and challenging everything from themselves to Christmas. And they are awesome and intellectual and well trained in game hunting. However, clever as they may be, they’re raised differently and this notion, when it presents itself, is just as challenging as holding “plank” position.

The message, for me, is that conventional and abstract are a matter of perspective.

The film lacks tacky and overthought justification dialogues, the likes of which would have been truly detrimental. Ben’s ability, through great writing, to not sugarcoat and be extremely forthright is a pillar of the film’s disposition.

With an ending filled with resolution and tribute, Captain Fantastic hops the bus for the Film Clas elite, grabbing 4.8 napkins out of 5, even though they don’t need them.

An impromptu reflection upon my five favorite male characters reveals, in no particular order, Javier Rodriguez Rodriguez, Sean McGuire, Ian Malcolm, Jason Bourne and, of course, Han.

The Bourne backstory of trying to discover one’s backstory whilst running from those afraid of said backstory’s proliferation is dynamic and compelling. In Jason Bourne, Bourne (Damon) is far removed from that initial passport photo but seemingly closer to the truth. And that scares so many people.

Paul Greengrass’ mastery of technological surveillance and chase sequences combines with the aptitude and abilities of Bourne to create a visceral theatrical gusto for the whole picture. Think Waterloo Station from Ultimatum.

Julia Stiles returns as Nicky Parsons, Bourne’s reluctant confidant always inciting or comforting our hero, and continues her rogue brilliance.

And bonjour Vincent Cassel! Reuniting with Damon, he yields his intrinsic Asset prowess. Thankfully Tommy Lee Jones left Samuel Gerard in the ’90s and portrayed a tired and conniving CIA director spot on. Heather Lee (Vikander) is introduced into the fray showing a magnificent overconfidence.

Although the Las Vegas destruction bit evokes Cameron Poe, the film triumphs. Jason Bourne folds up 3.89 out of 5 napkins to smack those sent after him.

Bryan Cranston is cooking again. No, it is not that crystal blue persuasion but a scheme to bring down Pablo Escobar, the Walter White of cocaine. Although on the opposing side of the drug trade, Cranston attacks this covert role with similar vigor and posture.

Throughout the film, Cranston’s Mazur tempers the emotion as the story teeters toward looming chaos. This allows for a slower pace and the real story to be sifted out between sharp violent moments. In this manner, The Infiltrator mirrors the excellence of Traffic. The inherent plodding that accompanies investigating the money trail forces us to experience a tension born from the idea of consequence. That is, as he forges a familial relationship with a top Escobar Lieutenant in Alcaino (Bratt) with a fake fiance (Kruger), the penny seemingly has to drop, right? And that lands us in suspense.

Leguizamo adds his incognito moxie and street acumen as Emir Abreu and counters Mazur’s novelty. He is just as ace as Cranston and deserved of high praise.

This is a genre du jour of Film Clas. We love period cop dramas. The Infiltrator goes undercover to discover elite status, laundering 4.51 napkins out 5.

The essential idea in The Secret Life of Pets is to bring to life Gary Larson’s Far Side genius. This exercise is like trying to chase your cat while she is chasing a squirrel up a tree. Larson’s humanization of animals is one-of-kind. But, by all means, give it a go. The effort might be futile but it will probably be funny.

In Pets, our hunches about our furry friends are cleverly given confirmation. Buddy, the dachshund, and his a hilarious take on the ChuckIt! toy and the group’s impression of their hipster dog-walker were particularly memorable. Unfortunately, quirky pet antics do not make a movie and an underground of discarded pets was flushed, and somewhat forced, out. To compound matters, the post-production team for Pets had to gulp when Shaun the Sheep was released with an animal control narrative containing more thought, humor and originality.

This film is a good try. Kevin Hart as the bunny leader of the discarded pets was hilarious. To enter this realm, however, perfection is the password. I’ll flip on Tom & Jerry and be very happy. Pets chases its tail a bit but catches up to a respectable 3.1 napkins out of 5.

What if? It is the ubiquitous inquiry of every storyteller allowing for imagination to flourish through pages and screen. In Swiss Army Man, Daniels (directors, Kwan and Scheinart) elevates this premise. They essentially recall a childish conversation from the playground and flip it into a timeless story of acceptance, loneliness, friendship and love.

The novelty in the open is genius. Hopeless Hank (Dano) wraps a noose around his neck then discovers the corpse of Manny (Radcliffe). Soon enough, Hank is riding Manny across the ocean with his farts as fuel. Daniels doesn’t ask for your acceptance. They are way too smart and creative to worry about that.

Dano is the foremost awkward actor, intelligently depicting outcasts of all kinds, and Radcliffe is completely fearless. Each scene is purposeful and guided brilliantly by the Manchester Orchestra score. Manny, glassy-eyed and dead, is unable to comprehend the world that Hank explains to him until a simulated bus ride changes everything so magically.

This film is perfectly original and engaging, thought-provoking, suspenseful, light-hearted and intelligent. Not to mention the amazing Jurassic Park references. The ending is worth everything. This excellence in flatulence soars into the Film Clas elite with 4.75 napkins out of 5.