Vengeance (2022)

Vengeance is the kind of movie that sneaks up on you: a funny, sharply observed culture clash that gradually tightens into a genuine mystery with real bite, all while keeping you entertained. B.J. Novak directs with a satirist’s eye and a storyteller’s patience, letting the laughs come from character and discomfort rather than cheap jokes, and using the podcast framing to poke at how we turn other people’s pain into “content.” West Texas isn’t treated as a punchline or a postcard; it’s a living, complicated place, and the film’s best moments come from watching a slick New York skeptic realize he’s in over his head—morally, emotionally, and maybe physically. It does get dark and talky in stretches, and the mix of comedy with grief and opioid fallout won’t be everyone’s flavor, but if you like smart, audacious films that zig when you expect them to zag, this one rewards your attention.

Vengeance is clearly trying to be a smart, modern mashup of murder mystery, culture-clash satire, and a podcast-y meditation on grief and storytelling, and you can feel B.J. Novak reaching for something more ambitious than a standard whodunit. The problem is it doesn’t always juggle those tones cleanly: the mystery engine can feel more like a delivery system for ideas than a genuinely gripping puzzle, and the pacing wanders just when you want momentum or emotional weight. If you’re expecting a tight thriller with sharp twists or a deeply felt drama, this may come off as unfocused and a bit self-aware in a way that keeps you at arm’s length. Still, there are solid laughs, a few tense sequences, and a committed supporting cast that gives the Texas setting texture—even when the film’s big themes don’t fully click into place.