A film like Uncharted is not really designed to spark broader conversations about the nature of entertainment. Based on the long-running adventure video game franchise of the same name, it is certainly fair to label the whole affair as a cash grab designed to appeal to fans of both the series and of superstar lead actor Tom Holland. There’s something more at stake for the action genre as a whole in this era defined by massive budges and connected universes.

The film is largely a paint-by-number swashbuckler that borrows heavily from 90s genre tropes. Nathan Drake (Holland) is a skilled pickpocket desperate for news of his long-lost brother Sam (Rudy Pankow), the two separated at an orphanage at an early age. Savvy fortune hunter Victor “Sully” Sullivan (Mark Walhberg) quickly enlists Nathan’s help in locating the lost treasure of Ferdinand Magellan, both displaying a knowledge of history that highlights their proficiency at reading half a Wikipedia page.

Nathan and Sully are joined in their quest by Chloe Frazer (Sophia Ali), a fellow thief with an arsenal of one-liners and a weird backstory with Sully. Santiago Moncada (Antonio Banderas), a spoiled heir desperate for treasure, and his chief enforcer Jo (Tati Gabreille) supply the necessary cartoon villainy that every globe-trotting treasure hunt needs. There are plenty of predictable character twists that anyone can see coming from a mile away, but the actors all showed up to engage in earnest to bring a semblance of seriousness to their one-dimensional roles.

The laughably atrocious screenplay is perpetually buoyed by the film’s tight pacing and strong cast chemistry. Though it often seems to have happened completely by accident, Uncharted manages to be a pretty entertaining summer action flick. It’s not good, but it’s too fun to be bad.

Other actors might try and phone in their performance when faced with a script as clunky as this mess. Holland is his earnest self, doing his best to give the audience a fun time, playful banter with Wahlberg and Ali that does grow on you after a while. Drake does not seem terribly likely to be Holland’s next blockbuster vessel, but the role does showcase his A-list credentials. Uncharted is a good testament to the power of a strong leading man in today’s franchise-heavy age.

Director Ruben Fleischer deserves a lot of credit for his technical skills. The special effects won’t necessarily blow anyone away, but Fleischer’s camera work does elevate the material above plenty of other video game adaptations. The narrative could do without about ten minutes off of its 116-minute runtime, but the pacing does have a way of keeping things fresh in a way that the script never seems to understand.

Uncharted is overly content in its commanding mediocrity, but there’s a certain joy in watching the film that’s hard to ignore. Some lines and plotholes are so terrible that they make you laugh out loud. The action sequences are completely over the top in their resounding absurdity. Fleischer’s work begs to be watched on the biggest screen possible, a throwback to the days when visiting the cinema felt like something you did just to sit in those comfortable seats and turn your brain off. Uncharted should have been a better film, but it’s too enjoyable not to recommend.

There are a lot of narratives centered on the hardships of moving, being forced to leave your homeland behind in pursuit of a better life. There’s an additional, often underrepresented burden placed on the communities that bear the brunt of these exoduses and the people left behind. Culture is a living, communal entity, forces of gravity that reflect the people who gravitate toward its orbit.

The documentary The Job of Songs explores the heavy burden that change places on culture to keep the spirit of a people alive. Centered on the village of Doolin, a small town on the western tip of Ireland, the narrative follows the people who stayed behind as the demands of the modern world laid their burdens on these tight-knit communities. Known for its breathtaking scenery, Doolin is the kind of place that’s been elevated by social media platforms such as Instagram that reward such geographical beauty.

Director Lila Schmitz is perpetually wary of the one-dimensional portrait crafted by a tourist selfie that hardly tells much of a story about a community. Doolin’s true vibrancy resonates from its people, particularly the musicians that populate the airwaves and the pubs each night. The songs they sing each night supply the glue that holds everything together.

The documentary supplies plenty of context into Doolin’s history, but Schmitz’s work really comes alive during the interviews and extended sequences featuring local musicians. The Job of Songs constantly recognizes the ace in the back of Schmitz’s pocket in the form of the beautiful music that frequently accompanies the imagery on the screen. There’s a vibrancy to the pub life that makes you feel a part of the room. After more than two years of a global pandemic, that kind of spirit resonates more than ever.

Schmitz’s greatest skill as a director is the way she tackles heavy subjects without getting melancholic or giving into the trap of nostalgia. It might be easy for people to reminisce about the idea of “the good old days,” but the people of Doolin aren’t adverse to change. Change is a part of every single community on the planet whether we like it or not. You have to grow with the times, while also maintaining the culture and history of the plots of earth we call home. Life happens in the present, not the past.

The film has a lean runtime of 73 minutes, a well-paced narrative that knows when it’s made its points. While The Job of Songs makes a compelling case for why someone should want to visit Doolin, Schmitz is more concerned with making sure that her audience understands why travel needs to be a more immersive experience than the kind of stuff that appeals to social media followings. Plenty of musicians came to Doolin for various reasons, choosing to stay after engaging with the magic that song provides.

People matter. Song brings us together, not just in merry times, but also to remember the moments that weren’t as fun. Ireland has faced plenty of hardships in the not-so-distant past, with plenty still alive who remember the catastrophic effects of famine and war. The simple beauty of perseverance comes alive so vividly when a group of musicians huddles together in a crowded pub. The Job of Songs captures all of that for anyone to enjoy from the comforts of their own home.