Week Ending 9/25/26

Buffalo is getting the Tubi docuseries treatment with Just One Before I Die premiering on the streaming service October 21, 2026.

Directed by two Buffalo natives now residing in Los Angeles (Addison Henderson and Yahoo's Kevin Polowy), the five-episode series looks to get under the hood of Bills Mafia with interviews of players (Jim Kelly, Dion Dawkins, Ryan Fitzpatrick), sports writers (Adam Schefter, Nick Wright), and area celebrities (Chad Michael Murray). I get the instinct to use big names in a press release, but I would have loved at least one "regular" fan ... even if it was just a known co-founder of the label in Del Reid, Breyon Harris, or Leslie Wille.

Instead we simply get a filmmaker quote talking about how they were embedded within the community for three years to put the project together and Tubi SVP Samuel Harowitz reiterating the company's dedication to "Sports & Culture programming" via LeBron James and Maverick Carter's Uninterrupted brand.

So, I'll assume it's going to be a series of unhinged folding table destruction, tailgate shenanigans, and copious tears as the Buffalo Bills lose heartbreaking playoff game after heartbreaking playoff game. Probably a bunch of talking head interviews of random people lamenting how they felt after "wide right" and "13 seconds." And a collection of former and current players gushing about a loyal fan base despite never giving them the championship they crave.

The fact William Fichtner's name isn't included in the release is wild to me. Three years and you couldn't secure his participation? There's no way he's not a bigger name than Murray to use as a marketing tool if he does end up being included. Maybe they're hiding a interview with Vincent Gallo talking about Bills trauma too.

The obvious question to ask throughout James Cullen Bressack's horror film I Have Proof is, "Proof of what?" Proof of demons walking amongst us or proof that Alex (Larsen Deane) is a paranoid schizophrenic in desperate need of a regimented medication schedule? For its first two-thirds, Bressack lives in the potential of delivering both. There's just one problem: found footage as a device is antithetical to blurring the line between reality and fantasy.

Sparked by a Letterboxd review lamenting the fact he moved away from his lo-fi beginnings to helm glossier direct-to-video fare like late-stage Bruce Willis flicks Survive the Game and Fortress (both produced prior to the actor's aphasia diagnosis), Bressack challenged himself to go back and create something in that vein again. To, as he states, unlearn the rules of conventional storytelling, go full analog, and give the audience a purely visceral experience.

Using found footage as his format proves a no-brainer avenue to achieve that. Dig out an old JVC camcorder and used VHS tapes. Construct a story out of "evidence tapes" that simply play without the polish of narrative beats. And let the inherent veracity of the imagery either hook the audience with its intensity or lose them with its absurdity. The risk of the latter is always there since editing a film to not look edited carries the troublesome burden of repetition.

I Have Proof falls prey to this inevitability due to each day in Alex's life unfolding exactly like the last. He puts on his hoodie, fires up the camera, and follows an attractive blonde (Lilly Van der Meer) from a not so safe distance before retiring to his motel room and pointedly explaining his "rules" to eluding the evil forces around him. The woman is always doing random normal things. Alex is always lifting a notepad with text before pantomiming it to the camera.

I started to wonder if Bressack was intentionally trying my patience by subverting my expectation of horror with the reality of mental illness. Because everything we see can be explained by the latter. Alex's delusions about needing to stay quiet and using only blood to write to hide from the demons. His fear that a monster is trying to enter his room by parroting his sister's (Augie Duke's Bex) voice. It's quite tragic as someone with schizophrenia in his family.

Would the film have been successful if that's all he was doing? That would depend on your definition of the word. In terms of putting the sad truth of a disease on-screen from the point-of-view of a person suffering from it? Yes. In terms of entertainment? Maybe not. You must therefore ask another question. Must the truth entertain? It helps to secure eyeballs, but there's something to be said about an unfiltered look at an unfortunate reality.

That's why I'm so torn about what ultimately occurs once Alex finally opens that door. As pure enjoyment, the final twenty minutes of I Have Proof are insanely good. The camera tricks Bressack executes to manufacture a surrealist nightmare of evil finally showing its true face had me fully forgiving the slow methodical pacing that preceded it. But then I remembered the reason for that pacing. The conscious decision to play Alex's diagnosis straight.

It's why I think I'd like the film more if Bressack didn't use found footage. The format demands that everything we see is real, so there's no hypothesizing that the final act was what Alex "saw" rather than what happened. You've lost that luxury. And since a lot of it unfolds with dream language visuals, I found myself questioning the logistics of the device rather than enjoying the result. So, the format is simultaneously crucial and detrimental to the content itself.

Does it hurt the final product? Definitely. Does it render the experience any less intriguing? No. Regardless of how much the first fifty minutes eventually tried my patience, those last twenty are undoubtedly invigorating. And the way both merge to provide a cinematic interpretation of schizophrenia is great if the format didn't undercut why. Found footage is hard because it's not simply about the aesthetic and perspective. It's about the implicit authenticity too.

Daniel (Domhnall Gleeson) isn't that different from Isla (Gayle Rankin) and Sandy (Grant O'Rourke). And Isla and Sandy aren't that different from him. Sure, he's a mainlander privy to current technologies and the concept of variety while their brother and sister duo have spent the past three decades alone on a remote island with nothing but seagulls to eat, but setting doesn't dictate circumstances. Fear of the unknown is universal.

Writer/director Louis Paxton supplies a wonderful bit of dialogue towards the end of his feature debut The Incomer about "might" and "could." That so many of us become paralyzed by change because we're afraid of what might happen instead of choosing the potential of what could. It's why Isla and Sandy's father trained them to hate outsiders and why Daniel willfully stands apart. They wield rejection as a weapon. By expecting rejection, he never tries.

It's therefore an inadvertent gift when Daniel's boss Roz (Michelle Gomez) orders him to Auke Isle to evict the inhabitants inhabiting its uninhabited island. She'd rather send Callum (Emun Elliott) since she can trust he'll get the job done, but that trust is due to his irregular and probably illegal methods of doing so. That "ambition" has him sidelined with a suspension, so her hope is that Daniel can handle two holdouts while keeping her promotion on track.

Well, Isla and Sandy take the security of their home very seriously by practicing how they'll bludgeon and subdue any potential incomers via weapons made of stone and bone while donning hand-made gull costumes. It's exactly what they do to Daniel upon his arrival. He can barely finish his prepared statement before they knock him unconscious, tie him up, and dangle him over a cliff. He'd leave them be in a heartbeat if only he could get a cell signal for a boat.

What follows is a series of absurdly funny interactions between this outsider and his very particular audience. Sandy hangs on every one Daniel's words with child-like wonder. Isla meets each syllable with skepticism. It leads to hilarious gags like an introduction to veganism being led by the words "I don't believe in eating meat." Sandy is confused about how someone could not believe meat was real. Isla presumes avocados aren't real since he can't explain how they grow.

The more time they spend together, however, the more they learn to trust each other's good intentions regardless of their choices. It helps when a life-or-death situation arises so impulse can assuage trepidation, but there's also just a genuine interest in who each other is. Daniel finally has the confidence to ask questions of strangers and the siblings finally have an audience who is willing to listen. They're each able to share fable versions of their lives.

This is where we see just how empathetic Paxton is with his characters. He could have drawn Isla and Sandy as caricatures—the weirdo pariahs that people like Roz dismiss them as without a second thought. But he understands that you don't become this way in a vacuum. It isn't something they chose. No, it's a product of teaching and experience. In other words, abuse and trauma. And the more they tell their tales, the more they begin to realize this truth too.

What occurs in the meantime is still very funny, though. Especially when Callum is sent to save the mission after Roz acknowledges Daniel has failed. Paxton has fun letting Isla and Sandy loose on actual threats to their sovereignty ... and even more fun letting Elliott act a fool doing military cosplay. They're all a bit batty despite their mutual depression and a little sparring gets the blood going to clear minds and confront the harsh reality of their respective unhappiness.

Because Daniel is no different. This is the most alive he's felt in his life and it's a stark reminder that his promises of a better existence on the mainland might actually be the lie his new friends thought. He has just as much to learn from their conviction as they do from his acceptance. Maybe his love of fantasy and wizards isn't something that will turn off every other person in the world. Maybe he simply hadn't found the right friends yet.

Add John Hannah as a manipulative sea monster constantly attempting to coax Isla into the water and the line separating every silly façade from its deeper emotional truth is thin enough to feel the pain beneath Rankin's steely resolve, O'Rourke's sad eyes, and Gleeson's terror. Paxton hits his themes of isolationism and community with the perfect mix of heart and humor to risk getting you choked up by the climax. Every frame is built on pure humanity.

The Incomer would be a great double-feature selection paired with The Ballad of Wallis Island in that vein. This time it's one straight man versus two quirky victims of tragedy masking their despair with humor (albeit unintentionally in this case) rather than the other way around. And while Gleeson is wonderful, this is Rankin and O'Rourke's show. Whether in curiosity or violence, they're always centering innocence. Their hopes and fears are all driven by love.

The events that transpired at 11457 Braddock Dr., Culver City, CA in 1974 inspired a book and subsequent screenplay from Frank De Felitta under the title The Entity. It's the story of Doris Bither, a single mother of four who was the victim of a rape orchestrated by an invisible figure tormenting her family. The case was documented and investigated by UCLA's Parapsychology Department before it's closure in 1978, and her son Brian believes it's what killed her.

Fast-forward fifty years later to find screenwriter Thomas Fenton and director Nick Simon conducting their own research into the case with a mission to give the story back to Doris (Heather Graham). They are therefore quick to assure us that What Happened to Doris? is not a remake (that prospect appears to have died on the vine back in 2015). It's a conscious effort to tell the "real" story with Brian's input and leave the Hollywood version behind.

The result is obviously going for a The Conjuring feel as we meet Doris and her three children (Daniel Reed Ferrell's Ricky, Kayden Koshelev's Brian, and Island Austin's Sylvia) dealing with the struggles inherent to their circumstances. With the first "incident" actually not being the entity's doing, the film is trying hard to make sure we disbelieve what happens later. It leans into the misogynistic setting that would have us dismiss her claims as those of a promiscuous drunk.

It's not just the paranormal investigators (Marcus Coloma's Gordon and Morgan Peter Brown's Taylor) who find zero evidence to move the case forward either. No, it's also her eldest son Ricky shepherding his siblings away from her door by saying she "can handle" whatever violence (or pleasure) is unfolding on the other side. The ease with which we could blame it all on alcohol is so prevalent that it almost feels silly when Doris' BFF Kandy (Candi Marie) actually believes her.

So, the first third of the film can prove a bit much. Simon and Fenton are trying to get all their characters on-screen so early that the narrative proves a steady helping of conveniences. Kandy takes Doris to the occult section of a bookstore rather than a psychiatrist. Gordon and Taylor just happen to be there for them to approach out of the blue. And their boss is serendipitously a woman (Mimi Rodgers' Ross) who tells them to keep the investigation open.

I was desperate for something to finally happen that would get everyone on board because the desire to defame Doris grew tedious. Thankfully, a cast iron pan flying across the room and almost decapitating Gordon gets the ball rolling to bring in the good equipment and start coaxing Mr. Whosit (Kevin Keppy)—the name Sylvia uses for the "man" under her bed—into the light. Now the attacks can hold the dramatic weight of danger rather than delusion.

There's some genuinely creepy imagery courtesy of how Simon handles the entity's movements around the frame. Sometimes it's visible in a flash of the edit. Sometimes it's a shadow moving across the wall. One scene has Graham acting scared while saying it's sitting on the couch next to Driver. It's a great moment because we truly don't need to see it to understand the potential violence coming. And everything culminates in a fiery blaze.

Despite some good theatrics, though, the whole ultimately proves flimsy insofar as how everyone beyond Doris is portrayed. We're constantly teased with new developments (Sylvia's doll being a charm for good, Ross' own paranormal experience, etc.) that remain background color if they aren't ignored altogether. Kandy is here to bear witness before the doctors can. And the children are so often not in the room that you forget they even exist.

The film gets caught in the rote machinations of what audiences expect from a ghost story without providing enough nuance to the characters for us to invest in their plight. The entity does something heinous, Graham comes in and yells at it, and we do it all again. The word "incubus" is used a couple times and a notion that it wants to specifically hurt men is alluded to after Ross "tries something," but nothing is expanded upon. We simply wait to see if Doris will die.

Gordon and Taylor's interns appear so they can be abused instead of their bosses. Brian has a camcorder at the start to feasibly catch the entity but doesn't. And we're supposed to think Ross did something to change the game with a wry smile at the end before text comes on-screen to admit Doris stayed haunted wherever she went until the day she died. The film's sole accomplishment is "proving" she wasn't crazy.

So, if that was the goal when Simon talks about giving Doris her story back, I guess they succeeded. She's not just a drunk with a revolving door of suitors. She is that and a victim of paranormal rape. She's a tortured soul for whom we never learn anything about. Why does she drink? Why does she date a lot? We can infer childhood abuse, but nothing is said. And when things are spoken aloud (like with the olives), the film ignores the obvious payoff.

Desperate to return to his young daughter before she becomes a ward of the state, inmate Samuel Murphy (Ethan Hawke) is given a proposition by the man in charge of his work release program breaking rocks to pave new roads circa 1930s America. J.J. Clancy (Russell Crowe spitting tobacco for a few days on set) says he'll sign his release papers if he assists a friend by smuggling gold through mine country wilderness.

The historical context is that a series of thefts erupted to steal the precious metal before FDR seizes it for government use during the Great Depression. So, Taggert (Alec Newman) seeks to move his to a safe area under all their noses. His men (Sam Hazeldine's Amis and George Burgess' Letender) will run the operation with convicts Murphy, Singh (Avi Nash), Olson (Lucas Lynggaard Tønnesen), and Rankin (Austin Amelio) doing the heavy lifting,

Written by Matthew Booi and Shelby Gaines, the bulk of director Padraic McKinley's feature debut The Weight follows this sextet sneaking the gold out via a bloody five-day journey with anyone crossing their path posing a critical threat to survival. Letender welcomes the potential violence of a stranger (Cameron Brady) casing their campsite, but Murphy can't risk anything derailing his one shot at reclaiming his daughter before it's too late.

It's a suspenseful adventure chock full of potential ambushes, betrayals, and unknown variables. That's why you keep an incorruptible figure like Murphy at its center to play Taggert's game only as long as his goal remains intact. Then, once things start going awry, he'll hatch a plan to turn the tables and take control. Because his fellow convicts and their stowaway (Julia Jones' Anna) have his back knowing they can't trust anyone else.

These supporting characters also have more complex backstories than you might expect with Nash's socialist, Tønnesen's family man, and Anna's residential school survivor. We don't learn much about Amelio, but his incessant talking to air everyone else's laundry is how we learn about them. It provides an effective political backdrop to color the genre trappings. Each one is battling his/her oppressors—namely, men with badges.

Hawke is fantastic. We see him having a ton of fun driving way too fast with his excited daughter in the backseat. He shoves his pride down to do what must be done to get back to her. And he rides the impulsive wave of justice (to varying success) whenever someone goes too far and harms another. Give Con Air writer Scott Rosenberg a "special thanks" because I saw a lot of Cameron Poe in the character. Stuffed animal and all.

The enthusiasm oozing from every interviewee on-screen during Nick Davis' You Had to Be There is high enough to warrant the assumption that it might be fake. One look at everyone's face to see their wide, joyful smiles, however, proves the opposite. It's therefore no surprise that Davis' initial pitch to Martin Short was interrupted by the legend admitting his own excitement at the prospect already had him reach out to everyone else to confirm they were all on board.

It's a testament to who they are as people more than anything else. That this one-to-two-year experience in Toronto (less in the case of Victor Garber once he won the role of Jesus in David Greene's cinematic adaptation) actually bonded them together for life. Artists love to talk about "family" atmospheres in PR-approved soundbites, but that's exactly what occurred on the Royal Alexandria Theatre stage. These clowns have shared genuine love for over fifty years.

There's no better example than a quick shot of John Candy from the early 90s joking he was given a microphone to talk about why he hates "Godspell" so much only to admit he doesn't. He thinks it's a lovely show. The problem, he explains, is that he was never in the show and all his friends have spent the past twenty years talking about it in ways that constantly remind him of that fact. It became a part of all their identities. A seminal career and life highlight.

The original ten cast members were Short, Garber, Eugene Levy, Andrea Martin, Jayne Eastwood, Gilda Radner, Avril Chown, Valda Aviks, Rudy Webb, and Gerry Salsberg. What they did in the early twenties with Stephen Schwartz's music, John-Michael Tebelak's book (and Paul Shaffer on the piano) became part of a cultural phenomenon that no one foresaw having the major impact it has on comedy, theater, and Hollywood.

More than just a document of the show's origins, however, Davis uses that as an impetus to delve into the ripple effect. Where did all these performers come from? Why did they converge in Toronto? What did the experience do to open the door for more in Canada and across the border in the United States? How much credit can you give Schwartz for so many of your favorite shows and movies because he picked some of those initial ten solely on charisma?

Everyone still alive (RIP Radner, Salsberg, and Tebelak) is interviewed in front of a brightly colored backdrop with many of the same questions so the answers can be compared and contrasted in an edited rapport. They talk about the audition process, the luck born from so many already being friends and thus cheerleading and propping each other up, and the sheer joy (and physical pain) of performing eight nights a week. They talk about it being the best time of their lives.

The show itself is animated in a 70s style aesthetic a la Yellow Submarine to accompany a bootleg audio recording Short illegally captured on-stage even though the first-person accounts are told in such vivid detail that they'd have been enough without it. There's some great archival footage of the reaction to the show and news clippings describing its success. And we learn about the show's evolution to a Levy Jesus and Dave Thomas "shutting it all down."

For my money, though, it's the relationships born from the experience that shine brightest. The after parties. The opportunities that arose (and how Short almost derailed his career by initially fearing the improv route so many of them took to "Saturday Night Live" and Second City). The reality that life and/or tragedy took others in vastly different directions whether through geography or career pivots. Yet they still come together today like no time has passed.

Throw Don Scardino (who took over for Garber as Jesus and now directs television—including two episodes of Short's "Only Murders in the Building") into the mix with a few other talking heads in comedy historian Kliph Nesteroff, SNL alum Mike Myers, and the ubiquitous Lin-Manuel Miranda and you get as much talk about lasting impact as you do invaluable historical record. This show truly proves an immutable point on the entertainment industry's timeline.

You Had to Be There will have fans of the musical, the actors, and a good story told well smiling wide themselves once the anecdotes begin. Some tears might be shed too with topics like Radnor's death and Chown's exit from the business arriving, but they'll eventually shift from sad/mad to happy as Davis unveils a surprise that transports them all back to 1972. He's given us a front row seat to a magical reunion of comedy greats.

This week saw Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere (2025) and Violets Are Blue (1986) added to the archive (cinematicfbombs.com).

Opening Buffalo-area theaters 9/25/26 -

• Avengers Endgame: Encore at Dipson Flix, Capitol; Scene One Market Arcade; AMC Maple Ridge; Regal Elmwood, Transit, Galleria, Quaker
• Bad Apples at Scene One Market Arcade
• Charlie Harper at Regal Elmwood, Transit, Galleria, Quaker
• Concessions at Scene One Market Arcade
• Day Eight at Regal Transit, Quaker
• Dorothy at Regal Elmwood
• Forgotten Island at Dipson Flix, Capitol; Scene One Market Arcade; AMC Maple Ridge; Regal Elmwood, Transit, Galleria, Quaker
• Ha-Chan, Shake Your Booty! at Regal Elmwood, Transit
• Heart of the Beast at Dipson Flix, Capitol; Scene One Market Arcade; AMC Maple Ridge; Regal Elmwood, Transit, Galleria, Quaker
• NO LIMBS, NO LIMITS: The NickV Story at Regal Quaker
• The Paradise at Regal Elmwood
• Primetime at Dipson Amherst, Flix, Capitol; Scene One Market Arcade; AMC Maple Ridge; Regal Elmwood, Transit, Galleria, Quaker
• The Stunt Driver at Scene One Market Arcade; Regal Elmwood, Transit, Galleria, Quaker

"It’s a pretty by-the-numbers period piece that works because of its eccentric characters. What begins as a farce populated by brash buffoons becomes about the drama inherent to the process behind this runaway train coming to fruition." – Full thoughts at HHYS.

• Tutt Paini English Ne at Regal Elmwood
• The Vvaan: Force of the Forrest at Regal Elmwood
• You Had to Be There at North Park Theatre (select times); Dipson Amherst

Thoughts are above.

Streaming from 9/25/26 -

• Backrooms (HBO Max) – 9/25
• Bloody Tennis (Shudder) – 9/25
• Don't Be Shy (Prime) – 9/25
• Pulp: What Do You Do for an Encore? (MUBI) – 9/25
• Unabomber (Netflix) – 9/25
• The Breadwinner (Netflix) – 9/26
• The Furious (Starz) – 9/26
• Power Ballad (Starz) – 9/26
• Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba The Movie: Infinity Castle (Netflix) – 9/28
• Mononoke The Movie: Chapter Ⅲ - The Curse of the Serpent (Netflix) – 9/29
• The Widower: 'Til Death Do Us Part (Netflix) – 9/30
• Lockbox (MGM+) – 10/1
• The Last One for the Road (Criterion Channel) – 10/1

Now on VOD/Digital HD -

• Boorman and the Devil (9/22)
• Boundless (9/22)
• Coroner to the Stars (9/22)
• Dead Souls (9/22)
• The Fence (9/22)
• Glasses (9/22)
• Ice Cream Man (9/22)
• Idiots (9/22)

"We’re always stuck in the middle tonally, unsure whether to take anything seriously despite it definitely seeming like their goal. While this fact leaves the whole too messy for me to ever want to watch it again, I don’t necessarily regret this initial look." – Full thoughts at HHYS.

• Legend of the White Dragon (9/22)
• The Magic Faraway Tree (9/22)
• One Last Shot (9/22)
• (Pickle)Ballers (9/22)
• Spa Weekend (9/22)
• Stolen Kingdom (9/22)

"Buzzy is therefore an entry point into the origins of a growing subculture of fans willing to put their freedom on the line to experience that which they are barred from experiencing." – Full thoughts at HHYS.

• Super Troopers 3 (9/22)
• C.O.G. (9/25)
• The Deputy (9/25)
• Pulp: What Do You Do for an Encore? (9/25)
• Virginia Woolf's Night and Day (9/25)

Pieces from the St. Elmo's Fire (1985) press kit.