A pair of duelling weddings leads to war in this surprisingly funny, if a little overstuffed, Amazon comedy

In the doldrums of January, with Hollywood gracelessly dumping its shoddiest films, one would have understandable scepticism over Amazon’s glossy wedding confection You’re Cordially Invited. Recent attempts to replicate the big studio comedy for a streaming audience have almost all failed, from the intolerable Vacation Friends movies to Amazon’s heinous Space Cadet to joyless big-star Netflix vehicles like the recent Diaz/Foxx mess Back in Action. Even its stars have tried – Reese Witherspoon with charmless rom-com Your Place or Mine and Will Ferrell with grating Christmas musical Spirited – so expectations weren’t just low, they were deep underground.

It also didn’t help that Amazon refused to provide screeners to press, a clear sign that something was up. But even with the many low bars this would all put in place, there’s a surprising amount of low-rent fun to be had here, a simple and silly crowd-pleaser smartly reliant on the high wattage appeal of two, top-of-game professionals. Maybe my enjoyment was also boosted by something else, an ongoing frustration with the industry’s inability to crown a new generation of not just legitimate movie stars but legitimate comedy stars (they seem to exist more on the outskirts now, supporting actors who are in desperate need of it).

The Oscar-nominated star of Netflix’s musical made racist and Islamophobic remarks in several tweets from 2020

Emilia Pérez star Karla Sofía Gascón is under fire after old tweets uncovered a range of troubling opinions on subjects including Islam and George Floyd.

The Spanish actor, who recently became the first ever openly transgender person to receive an acting nomination at the Oscars, has since deleted a number of tweets after users, including writer Sarah Hagi, uncovered them. Variety and the Hollywood Reporter have since reported the news and translated older posts.

Sundance film festival: The cult of celebrity is targeted in a progressively nonsensical and poorly made debut with too much on its plate

Anyone who has written about a much-loved music star with even the vaguest hint of light criticism will be aware of the horrors that can often follow. The tribal intensity of extremely online and extremely sensitive fandoms can lead to either a mild torrent of more tolerable abuse or something far darker, like death threats and sometimes doxing, an unending rage erupting from people who use emojis as avatars. There’s a great thriller to be made about this unpleasant tension, the fans who will do anything for their idol and the idol who will do nothing to stop them, but Opus, a poppy new A24 misfire premiering at Sundance, is not that movie.

It’s the first film from the writer-director Mark Anthony Green, who, like many before him, is so fixated on what he wants to say that he hasn’t been able to figure out how to say it. There’s maybe a slicker, simpler and more satisfying murder mystery to be told here – an assortment of media types picked off one-by-one at the remote ranch of a reclusive pop star – but he’s challenged himself with something far harder and ultimately too far out of his reach.