Main Review:

This summer’s acclaimed blockbuster-horror movie, Weapons, is finally winding down its time in theaters, and will be available for digital rental by the time you’re reading this review. After seeing all the hype about it online, my FOMO got the best of me, and I cleared some time out to go and watch it in the theater.

Weapons’ opening prologue explains that one Wednesday night, at exactly 2:17 a.m., 17 children from Ms. Justine Gandy’s third-grade class ran into the night. No one has seen them since. This tragedy serves as the backdrop to the rest of the film.

About halfway through the movie, I was convinced that I would be giving Weapons a five star review. It was firing on all cylinders, every aspect of the film working together to deliver something that was unsettling, thematic, and personal. The camera work was inspired, the editing was invisible (in a good way), the score helped drive home the emotional beats. But all those elements served to support the actor’s performances and the excellent writing.

The film uses an episodic story structure as a way to control information and deepen characterization. Each episode (or chapter) is focused on a specific character, exploring their lives in the aftermath of the tragedy. The first chapter focuses on Justine Gandy, the teacher whose class goes missing. We see that she cares deeply for students and is often willing to cross professional boundaries to support them, we see her drinking become more and more of a problem, we see the suspicion cast on her by the town… And as we watch Justine in her struggle to cope with the tragedy, the mystery of it all infects every aspect of her life. We see her slowly pulled in by the weight of this black hole, knowing she’s innocent, but still unable to avoid casting some amount of suspicion on her. Is she involved? Did she make a decision that somehow led to this? What is she hiding?

But Justine isn’t the only one who falls victim. We see it happen to Archer, the father of one of the missing children, Matthew. We see in the background that Matthew was a bully, particularly targeting, Alex, the only student who didn’t go missing? Did Archer’s parenting lead to his son’s disappearance? Why isn’t the Principal investigating Alex and his family? The characters feel real, each one struggling with their own flaws, each one burdened by the weight of the missing children. Each one being slowly pulled in by the mystery…

A recovering alcoholic beat cop and a homeless drug addict cross paths at the wrong time. Each one afraid of the law bearing down on them, each one dropped into the tragedy by pure happenstance. Their relationship and subsequent tit-for-tat was the highlight of the film, and some of the strongest storytelling I’ve seen in a movie all year.

Weapons is at its best when its a movie about the aftermath of a tragedy. When its a film about systems, cycles, and community. About the interrelatedness of our lives, our inability to produce good on our own accord, our need to find a scapegoat in the face of suffering. It’s at its best when it delivers deep themes without clear answers, when its mysteries feel like a spiral collapsing in on itself. Sadly, its style shifts about halfway through.

Its director/writer, Zach Cregger, is a comedian at heart (he’s also one of the founding members of The Whitest Kids U'Know), and the genre-shift in Weapons makes that abundantly clear. During the chapter focused on Alex, Cregger shifts the film into something that closer resembles a horror-comedy. While the technical aspects of the film remain stellar, its storytelling strengths begin to take a back door. We see the exploration of the movie’s themes take a back seat in order to explain a “magic system” and deliver a punchy ending.

This is where to review begins to shift more into a matter of personal taste.

Subscribe now

I don’t think the genre-shift was poorly done, I don’t think the horror-comedy elements were bad. I’m not upset that the antagonist “was just a witch.” But there is a part of me that can’t help but mourn the loss of what this film could’ve been. I found myself wishing that the mystery lingered just a little longer. I wanted the fate of the children, the reason for their disappearance, to be the climax. To be the big reveal. I wanted the themes of the film to deepen and simmer for longer.

If you look at online discussions of the film, despite the (totally deserved) praise that Weapons gets it feels like something is missing. I get the sense that many people want to have deeper discussion on the messaging of the film, on how it reflects our lives in intentional (and unintentional) ways. The problem is, that these discussions are cut off at the knees, because that’s not what Weapons delivers. Instead it focuses on delivering a fun popcorn-ending, as if it was intentionally trying to avoid the “elevated horror” accusations (“elevated horror” is worth its own discussion at some point).

I can’t say this enough: Weapons is an excellent film and it is definitely worth a watch. I respect Creggers willingness to take a risky turn, and I think he managed the genre shift as well as anyone could, but I disagree that it was the right decision. Either way, I heartily recommend Weapons, especially if you can manage to watch it with a crowd.

Follow me on Letterboxd @probably_bob to see what I’m watching!

[The following post is an expanded version of an old Letterboxd Review]

Main Review

Mad Max occupies a very interesting space that very few post-apocalyptic films tend to reside. The apocalypse is recent enough that pieces of society still linger, but they are fragile. Instead of watching society be rebuilt, like in The Book of Eli (which warrants its own review!), we see its slow collapse. Unlike films such as Waterworld, which imagine futures long after the fall, or movies like A Quiet Place: Day One, which dramatize the immediate crisis, Mad Max lingers in the uneasy middle ground. It shows us a world on the edge, where the rules and structures of civilization are eroding before our eyes, and where each day pushes humanity one step closer to anarchy.

For most of the film, Max serves as a bulwark against chaos, a living reminder of what civility and order can still provide. He has a wife and child, a home, the luxury of leisure; scenes of vacations and ice cream that, while mundane, root him in a recognizable world of stability. This section of the film is often criticized for its pacing, but I think it’s essential: it shows us the fragile remnants of civilization being slowly worn down by the forces of decay. These everyday moments highlight what is at stake, what is being lost. Mad Max isn’t simply a low-budget, post-apocalyptic action film—it is an 'Apocalyptic' movie in the truest sense of the word.

In the original Greek, apocalypse (ἀποκαλύπτω) means to reveal or uncover. Mad Max is apocalyptic not merely because it depicts societal collapse, but because it unveils the forces that erode civilization from within. Like the warnings in Revelation, where the Beast and other forces of chaos systematically corrupt and destroy the faithful, the film shows how suffering and lawlessness slowly turn people away from duty and order, picking them off one by one until no one is left to resist. Max, once a defender of society, mirrors this process: driven by grief and rage after his family’s murder, he abandons the very principles he once upheld, becoming himself an agent of destruction. His turn underscores the film’s apocalyptic insight: just as biblical texts reveal the hidden forces behind human sin and societal decay, Mad Max exposes how easily civilization unravels when its stewards surrender to chaos.

Yet apocalyptic narratives, both biblical and cinematic, do not exist solely to depict destruction. Revelation, for example, unveils not only chaos and corruption but also God’s ultimate sovereignty and the promise of restoration for those who remain faithful. Similarly, Mad Max, while showing civilization’s unraveling and the seductive power of vengeance, invites reflection on the fragile but essential bonds that hold society together; duty, care, and moral courage. In exposing the forces that threaten these bonds, the film implicitly asks whether there is still a way to resist chaos and restore order, reminding us that even in the midst of decay, hope and redemption remain possible. In the end, Max is able to put a stop to Toecutter and his gang, avenging his fallen bride.

Though the pacing kind of falters and the micro-budget pokes through, The film’s relentless suspense, and the brief lulls shattered by bursts of violence create a gripping, unforgettable experience. George Miller’s confident directing, pairs with Brian May’s aggressive score, sharp editing, and the roar of a V8 engine, to create an essential piece of lowfi action.

I plan to revisit Mad Max in the future, discussing the Christ figures throughout the series.

As a seminarian with a film degree, the idea for this blog has been rolling around in my head for a while now. I’ve been hoping to find an online space that discusses the Christian Faith, Film, and the places where they intersect. There are a few people doing something similar, but they were never quite what I was looking for.

Most Christian film review sites focus on providing parents with content warnings, or are critiques of the film’s non-Christian content, and none of them are Lutheran. So, I realized that the time had come for me to bite the bullet and write the kind of blog I had hoped to read.

So, What Kind of Blog is this?

I want Faith In Frame to be a space that discusses film as art.

Our ability to create art is a gift from God, a gift that he did not give to us without reason. Art is a way for us to communicate about and deepen our understanding of what it means to live in God’s creation. Art is also a way through which we can worship God, and illustrate His teachings.

American Christianity seems to struggle with taking art seriously, especially film. In Christian circles, film and television are often reduced to something simply to be consumed and not treated as something that shapes our understanding of God and His world. You see this attitude in Christian discussions around film, and especially in the “Christian Film Industry.”

So, I want to discuss films as an art, but what kind of Content will I actually be posting?

1. Film Reviews

A pretty self explanatory category, but I want to write film reviews from a Christian lens. The reviewed films will be both old and new, and while I’m not Roger Ebert, I want to provide in-depth (but accessible) discussions on the film’s artistry, and what it says about creation.

2. Faith & Film Connections

This series will be a close examination of films that significantly resonate with scriptural motifs and the dynamics of faith. By placing cinematic narratives alongside theological reflections, this series seeks to discern how particular stories illuminate and are illuminated by the witness of scripture and the lived reality of Christian belief.

This will be the most varied series, with some posts reading like Bible studies, some like devotionals, others taking the form of devotionals, and still others offering broader reflections on life and faith.

3. Christ Figures in Film

Christ’s death and resurrection split time in two. Its effects echo throughout all of history, and it permeates all culture. This series will look at the different archetypes of Christ that appear in Film, whether or not they are intentional.

This series (and the others) hope to create good jumping off points to share the gospel.

Conclusion

If you’ve made it this far, thanks! If any of this sounds interesting to you, please consider subscribing, or sharing this blog with others!

God’s Blessings.