This is a fun and confident entry in Rian Johnson’s whodunnit trilogy—but in all honesty, it was not my favorite. The movie has plenty going for it: sharp performances, clever moments of misdirection, and a preacher whose unsettling charisma adds a fresh angle to the franchise. There’s real intrigue in watching how people flock to him, how his sermons straddle the line between hypnotic and manipulative, and how the town reacts as the mystery tightens. The film moves, too; the pacing is crisp, the set pieces are stylish, and Benoit Blanc is as delightfully frustrated as ever.
But while the ride is enjoyable, I felt a notable drop in the “wow” factor this time around. In Knives Out, the unfolding of the plot was electric. Every reveal hit with force; you could feel the movie tightening its grip as it went. Even Glass Onion, for all its flamboyance, stuck the landing with a finale that felt big and deserved. Here, the intrigue builds nicely—there are breadcrumbs, reversals, and satisfying character moments—but the final payoff doesn’t punch through in that signature way. Instead of that “god damn” moment Johnson usually delivers, this one ends with more of an “Okay, got it.”
The acting is easily the highlight. The ensemble is locked in, and the script gives them plenty to play with—especially the preacher, whose contradictions and moral slippage are the most compelling parts of the story. Blanc’s dynamic with the town, with the parishioners, even with the people who clearly aren’t telling the whole truth, offers great texture.
Still, the ending matters in a mystery, and this one lands softer than it should. I enjoyed myself, absolutely—but I walked out feeling more amused than impressed. If there’s a fourth installment, I think I’d watch it, but with just a little hesitation.
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