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Movie Curiosities: Cuties
September 27, 2020 in Curiosity Inc., Uncategorized
Yes, gentle readers, we’re really doing this. Buckle up.
The French film Cuties came out to immediate controversy, due in large part to a tin-eared and outrageously misguided ad campaign from Netflix. The film was made, critically acclaimed, and sold to Netflix for its examination of how society sexualizes pre-pubescent girls, and Netflix proceeded to hype the film by sexualizing pre-pubescent girls. To their credit, Netflix did eventually apologize and scale things back, but of course the damage was done and the controversy didn’t stop there.
A whole lot of ink has already been spilled about how the filmmakers should be ashamed of themselves and we should all cancel our Netflix accounts over this. Naturally, I’m sure all the outrage has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that this is a movie about a black Muslim girl, written and directed by a black woman (namely Maïmouna Doucouré, here making her feature debut). And of course I wouldn’t know how many of these same protesters are going to vote for the alleged sexual miscreant who used to own freaking Miss Teen USA and numerous other beauty pageants. Incidentally, that would be the same alleged sexual miscreant who put girls and women of color into cages on American soil, subjecting them to sexual abuse and forced sterilization. But I digress.
Getting back to the point, the simple and ugly truth is that sexualization of young girls and exploitation of their beauty have been a disturbing and prevalent trend for a long time now. For the past twenty years at least, every teenage girl who’s ever been remotely famous has had to start their career under a haze of Photoshopped fake nudes and an online countdown timer to their eighteenth birthday.
It’s a problem at least as old as pop culture itself, from Shirley Temple to Tiffany to Miley Cyrus and all her fellow latter-day Disney alumi. The list goes on and on, and quite a number have ended in tragedy. Just look at how Judy Garland ended up. Or Lindsay Lohan. Or Britney Spears. Or freaking JonBenet Ramsey.
Shit, Natalie Portman started out with The Professional when she was just a girl. And the first piece of fan mail she ever got came from some pervert psychopath who wanted to tell her about his fantasy of raping her at the age of thirteen. How fucked up is that?
This is definitely a conversation that we need to have, and it’s not a conversation that the male-dominated film industry is equipped for. The closest we’ve come in recent memory is probably Little Miss Sunshine, and it didn’t become a huge point until the climax. You could probably make an argument for Judy, though it was hardly a central focus. For fuck’s sake, freaking Johnny Knoxville might have said more about the subject in Bad Grandpa than both of those movies put together!
(WARNING: If you haven’t seen Bad Grandpa, you want to be very, very careful about clicking on that link. Trust me on this.)
And on the subject of teenage sexuality, we need to figure out how teens can explore their sexual natures and identities in a way that’s safe, appropriate, and empowering. This is another highly important conversation that we very badly need, but it’s not comfortable and so we don’t discuss it. Yes, the topic of sex has come up in a few recent coming-of-age movies — Good Boys; Love, Simon; The Spectacular Now; and The Fault in Our Stars all come to mind — but those were all from a male point of view. Coming from the perspective of a teenage girl who’s dealing with constant pressure to look and act a certain way sexually, Eighth Grade is probably the best we’ve got so far.
Then along came Cuties, which literally opens with a black girl crying into a camera. She’s surrounded by bright lights and flashing cameras, her makeup is shot to hell from all the tears, and she’s looking directly at the camera in extreme close-up. Let it be known that literally from the very first frame, the filmmakers tell you exactly what the point is, and they are definitely not fucking around.
From there, what we’ve got here is a pretty standard coming-of-age narrative. Amy (Fathia Youssouf) is a young Senagalese girl who just moved into a new housing project. She comes from a devout Muslim family, which means that her absentee father gets to take a second wife with everybody’s blessing while Amy and her mother have to cover themselves, be quiet, and abstain from anything remotely sexual. As Amy’s mother (Mariam, played by Maïmouna Gueye) so eloquently tells her daughter, “Quit taking up so much space.”
Even better, Amy’s lesson in “How to be a woman” is in cooking the food for her father’s second wedding. That is so many different kinds of fucked, I don’t even know where to begin.
Amy arrives at her first day of school and meets the eponymous Cuties (Angelica, Coumba, Jess, and Yasmine; respectively played by Medina El Aidi, Esther Gohourou, Ilanah Cami-Goursolas, and Myriam Hamma), a band of young girls who dress provocatively and partake in various social media stunts with the goal of dancing competitively. I might add that they got this idea from watching adult women dancing provocatively in skimpy outfits on social media, racking up hundreds of likes in the process.
So while it’s perfectly okay for consenting adults to film themselves twerking, and the audience is free to support them, there’s the possibility that teenage girls might see that and try to copycat so they can get some of that same attention and approval. Then again, the filmmakers heavily imply that none of these particular kids have any teachers or parents who are the least bit attentive or responsible, so there’s that.
Moreover, these girls are remaking themselves in the image of music video dancers, runway models, Kim Kardashian, and so on. Thus the film raises the notion that girls and young women need more positive role models, and that means more mainstream media attention given to empowering women.
Though from an American perspective, I might counter that with the ongoing lionization of the late Ruth Bader Ginsburg, with many young girls dressing up as her for Halloween and the like. (In fact, both Dora and the Lost City of Gold and the recent Scoob! featured young female supporting characters dressing up as the SCOTUS justice, even before her passing.) And of course that’s not even getting started on recent superhero media, with a successful Supergirl show on the CW and movies for Wonder Woman, Captain Marvel, and the upcoming Black Widow. Progress is slow, and we can always use more feminist role models, but progress is definitely happening nonetheless.
Anyway, there’s a problem with the Cuties: they’re a bunch of stuck-up brats who bully our main character. In their initial meeting, the Cuties even go so far as to throw actual, literal rocks at Amy. Seriously, they got her on the forehead and they laugh at the giant gaping wound.
We learn very quickly that the Cuties — like most kids their age — are posturing assholes who are 100 percent full of shit. This is most especially obvious on the subject of sex, as shown when the Cuties parrot all sorts of playground nonsense about penis size and what happens during sex. This stands in direct comparison to Amy, who doesn’t even bother pretending that she knows anything about sex. This is a French movie, and this could just as easily have taken place in America — maybe woefully insufficient sex ed is a universal thing.
Perhaps more importantly, Amy has been shaped by a culture and family that oppress her and suffocate her with any number of stringent rules about how she talks, acts, and dresses. By contrast, the Cuties show a callous, self-centered disrespect for rules and authority. In fact, they have no regard for common sense, honesty, integrity, or even personal safety. Literally nothing matters to them except their own pleasure and self-image. Yes, Amy needs to find the courage and strength to break out of the conformist mold she’s been set into, but going to these extremes is something else entirely.
And sweet mercy, does Amy go to some messed-up, boneheaded, appalling extremes in the back half.
Which brings us to the sexualization issue. If a woman dresses and dances in a provocative manner, is she degrading herself or empowering herself? It’s a conundrum as old as feminism itself, and the answer depends on any number of context-sensitive factors. Though in this particular context, the pre-pubescent ages of the young women in question is a huge goddamn factor.
Even so, there are two factors that are absolutely vital, regardless of age. The first is obviously informed consent. Secondly, if anyone of any age is made to feel ashamed for dressing and dancing however they want in the privacy of their own homes, that’s fucked up.
And then of course we have the generational gap. Amy’s family comes from Senegal, her elders brought up with archaic practices of a faraway place. Amy herself, by contrast, is very much a product of modern-day France. It’s perfectly obvious that the old ways won’t work for her, though the adults raising her don’t want to see that or understand it. This is bog-standard material for any coming-of-age story, though it’s worth mentioning nonetheless.
But even with all this talk about the greater sociopolitical and gender-related factors at play, it’s important to remember that THESE ARE KIDS. They play around, they act like idiots, they make mistakes. That’s how they learn, it’s how they grow, it’s the whole point of childhood. There’s a prominent dance break at the half-hour mark, and it’s hard to even see anything sexual about the scene when these girls are just dancing around to impress each other and have fun.
Still, it’s one thing when these girls are merely having fun by themselves in an abandoned lot somewhere. When they’re dancing like this on social media, for a paying audience, or in front of judges for a competition, that’s something else entirely. And when they’re actively rewarded for it… well, the opening frames of the movie have already let us know how that’s going to work out.
Which brings us to the nitpicks. Though most of the film is pretty firmly grounded in realism, the filmmakers briefly dabble in more fantastic and dreamlike moments. It doesn’t connect. The moments aren’t outlandish enough to completely register as hallucinations or dream sequences, but they’re not realistic enough to square with the rest of the proceedings. While these moments make an abstract kind of emotional and thematic sense, it’s still tonally jarring and confusing from a narrative standpoint.
Speaking of which, there are quite a few moments when the filmmakers go to absurd lengths in getting the plot where it needs to be. My personal favorite example concerns Amy’s cell phone — of course the plot and themes demand that she have a smartphone, but there’s no way her family would let her have one. So she steals a smartphone.
For one thing, this costs our protagonist no small amount of sympathy. For another, this means that our character set up her entire social media presence on someone else’s smartphone, racking up charges on someone else’s account the whole time, and it takes over half the movie before anyone notices. Fuck outta here.
Another great example comes when Amy gets into trouble and she needs a way out. And this just happens to be the exact moment when she gets her first period. Deus ex menses, if you will.
But maybe the crowning example comes when Amy needs to find a way back into the huge competition for the climax. I won’t spoil exactly how she does it, but she completely and totally lost all sympathy from me after that move.
Still, the cast does well enough. In fact, considering how young these actors are and what material they had to work with, I’d say they deserve tremendous praise. But the real star here is Maïmouna Doucouré, for taking on such a bold subject matter with nuance and heart. I may gripe about how our protagonist wasn’t always 100 percent sympathetic, but I respect a filmmaker who doesn’t shy away from the fact that kids can be ignorant, harmful, malicious little shitheads. (Again, see Eighth Grade. And also Skate Kitchen, which this movie resembles in many ways.)
But most importantly — I cannot possibly stress this enough — no way in Hell, Heaven, or all points in between could this movie have been made by a male filmmaker. This absolutely needed a female filmmaker who could handle this topic with unflinching honesty, a clear and comprehensive eye, and absolutely zero trace of any male gaze. These are uncomfortable topics, but we need to talk about them, and this is how they need to be portrayed.
On its own merit, Cuties is a stock coming-of-age story, with a boilerplate plot held together by a few flimsy contrivances. Even so, the film sets itself apart from the cavalcade of recent coming-of-age films by way of its subject matter and context in the pop culture zeitgeist. It’s a film about young women growing up and discovering themselves in a world with fucked-up and contradictory attitudes toward women and sex, discussing the subject with intelligence and heart. It’s also a movie made of and about women of color, and we could definitely use more of that too.
You may not like what this movie has to say or how it says it. Even so, you should definitely hear what the movie has to say. Brace yourselves, keep an open mind, and give it a try.
For more Movie Curiosities, check out my blog. I’m also on Facebook and Twitter.
Movie Curiosities: Irresistible
September 6, 2020 in Curiosity Inc., Uncategorized
Movie Curiosities: Onward
March 8, 2020 in Blogs, Curiosity Inc.
Back in 2009, Bob Peterson and Peter Sohn came up with the idea of an alternate history in which the dinosaurs never went extinct. The film was set for release in 2012, and interviews from the time show that the filmmakers had a keen interest in exploring stereotypes through dinosaurs, asking what dinosaurs represent in the 21st century. Long story short, the film went through a myriad of revisions and delays until The Good Dinosaur finally saw release in November 2015. It is the only undisputed box office bomb in the otherwise legendary canon of Pixar, an uninspired snoozefest with barely a hint of the modern alternate history premise.
So here’s Onward, in which Pixar takes another crack at the “alternate history” conceit to more successful — though still shaky — results.
Our film is set on a world with two moons and no humans, so it’s immediately obvious that we’re not dealing with Earth. Though it is a world populated by elves, manticores, pixies, ogres, centaurs, and other creatures recognizable in European fairy tales. More importantly, it’s a world of magic, in which wizards were on hand to help with everyone’s problems.
Until somebody discovered electricity. And that turned out to be so much easier. Thus technology advanced and the world became more recognizably modern, while obsolete magic faded into history.
Our plot begins with the elven Lightfoot family, with the younger son (Ian, voiced by Tom Holland) serving as our protagonist. He’s hopelessly awkward and endlessly paranoid, as capably demonstrated in a sequence in which he tries and fails to not be so awkward and paranoid. It’s really quite endearing in execution.
His older brother is Barley, voiced by Chris Pratt. This is the kind of guy who rushes into everything, all heart without much of the way of brainpower. Moreover, he’s a fanboy for the olden days, with a strong passion for a “historically accurate” tabletop game called “Quests of Yore”.
As their mother (Laurel, voiced by Julia Louis-Dreyfuss) says at one point, Ian is afraid of everything and Barley is afraid of nothing. The perfect recipe for a buddy road comedy.
Anyway, the boys’ father died a long time ago of the dreaded Disney Parent Flu. Barley only has three or four distant half-forgotten memories of his father, and Ian’s got nothing but a metric ton of daddy issues. Then Ian’s 16th birthday rolls around, and Laurel brings out a package that the elder Lightfoot left behind for his two sons.
The package turns out to be a wizard’s staff, an extremely rare Phoenix Gem, and a spell of the Lightfoot patriarch’s invention. What does the spell do? It brings Papa Lightfoot back to life for 24 hours. Yes, seriously.
Long story short, the spell goes awry and the Lightfoot father has only materialized from the waist down. Thus Ian and Barley have 24 hours to find another Phoenix Gem and fix the spell before their dad fades back to the afterlife for good.
I have so many questions.
First of all, it’s clearly and plainly established that the elder Lightfoot was not a wizard, but merely an accountant who dabbled in magic. It’s likewise established that magic has been obsolete for centuries at least. So how the hell did he get a functioning wizard’s staff? How did he ever get something so impossibly rare and fragile as a Phoenix Gem? How the high holy fuck did he invent a spell that brings someone back to freaking life?! None of this is ever explained.
It’s established that every quest has to begin at the Manticore’s Tavern, and the Manticore herself (voiced with aplomb by Octavia Spencer) is the would-be oracle who tells our heroes where to find the thing they’re questing for. Who or what put the Manticore in charge of this is anyone’s guess. And then of course we get to the back half of the film, in which Ian and Barley have to survive an elaborate gauntlet on their way to the terrible curse that guards the Phoenix Gem. Who built this gauntlet? Who put the curse there? Why was any of this put in place? Never explained.
It’s clearly established that magic is difficult to master, yet Ian is somehow such a natural that he’s able to go from novice to professional in 24 hours. Moreover, it’s established that all of this monsters and magic stuff is settled history in this universe, yet for whatever reason, none of it is apparently taught in school. Thus it’s the board game fanatic who’s the expert on all this lore, while the withdrawn studious bookworm knows none of it.
To be entirely fair, the movie is such a love letter to high fantasy that of course the filmmakers had to find some way for the D&D fan to save the day. And of course high fantasy has always been full of arbitrary rules and contrived shortcuts, going all the way back to goddamn Greek mythology at least. But it’s frustrating that the plot and premise are full of so many holes when Pixar is otherwise phenomenal at world-building. So much love and attention has been packed into every last detail of the setting, it’s disappointing to see the plot held together with limp hand-waving.
This brings me to the central conceit of the past clashing with the present. Old temples getting cleared away to make room for new homes. Pixies and manticores who don’t need to fly, because cars and airplanes will serve just fine. This is genuinely fascinating stuff, and virtually nothing is done with it after the halfway point.
Instead, Pixar falls back on their tried-and-true family themes. Loss, grief, cooperation, forgiveness… these and other related themes are well-worn ground for Pixar. But hey, they do it like nobody else and it works beautifully.
Likewise, all the voice actors here are playing well within their respective wheelhouses, and they all turn in solid work. The central relationship between Ian and Barley is rock-solid, with fantastic chemistry between Holland and Pratt. Of course, it helps to have a disembodied pair of legs as a moderating influence between them, and the work done to make a pair of legs into such an expressive character is deeply inspired.
(Side note: To address the cyclops voiced by Lena Waithe, she’s only really present in one scene and her sexuality is only referred to in a throwaway line. Hollywood really needs to cut that shit out — either go for accurate representation or don’t, but quit begging for praise over half-measures.)
The animation and the comedy are all of Pixar’s typical high standard. The action is entertaining enough. But more than all of that, I was impressed with how the filmmakers employed setups and payoffs in genuinely clever ways. For every predictable plot turn, there were at least two or three remarkable curveballs. For a film that leans so heavily on standard fantasy conventions and follows the Monomyth to a T, that means a lot.
(Side note: I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the short film that precedes this one. Taking full advantage of Disney’s recent acquisition, “Playdate with Destiny” is a romance parody starring Maggie Simpson. A convenient way to produce a Simpsons cartoon without paying any of the voice actors. Romantic parodies have been done to death and “The Simpsons” is far more iconic for its dialogue than its visual humor, so the short is definitely more forgettable than bad.)
Onward averages out to an okay film, though an “okay” film by Pixar standards is something else entirely. It’s certainly enjoyable enough, considering that everyone involved is doing what they do best. That said, it’s depressing how the basic fantasy-versus-modernity clash is all but completely abandoned halfway through, and the basic foundations of the plot are riddled with holes. The fine strokes are all so beautiful, it’s frustrating how the broader strokes got botched like this.
The movie doesn’t live up to its promises of delivering anything new, but it does the old stuff really well. It’s worth a look.
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Movie Curiosities: Fantasy Island (2020)
February 15, 2020 in Blogs, Curiosity Inc.
A couple months ago, cineplexes were treated to a big-screen remake of “Charlie’s Angels”. This didn’t last long, as it was one of the year’s biggest commercial and critical flops, quickly dispensed to make room for a slew of more lucrative films. But at least it made sense on paper. While the original TV show occupies a controversial place in feminist history, revisiting the property by way of a female-driven action flick — written and directed by a woman! — sounds like a perfectly fine idea.
Compare that to Fantasy Island (2020), a remake of an even goofier TV show from the same era. What the hell kind of logic got us here?
Well, the basic theme of the show was always “be careful what you wish for.” Not exactly a new or timely concept, but certainly a timeless one. Hell, this theme has already been the center of countless paranormal horror stories — just last summer, we got a remake of Pet Sematary, so why not “Fantasy Island”?
Moreover, the original show never explained precisely what the island was or how it worked. If the filmmakers want to explore that question as the central mystery at the heart of a paranormal horror plot… well, that’s certainly not the worst idea I’ve ever heard. Not by a long shot.
So what have we got here? Well, the movie opens with a chase sequence in near darkness, shot in extreme close-up with a shaky handheld camera. It’s an action sequence that’s incomprehensible. Yes, gentle readers, we’re in trouble.
Shortly after, we’re introduced to Mr. Roarke, played by Michael Pena. In the role made famous by Ricardo Montalban. I hope it goes without saying, but that is not an upgrade. What, was Esai Morales not available? Jimmy Smits wouldn’t pick up the phone? Did you even try getting Lin-Manuel Miranda? Of course he’s insanely busy, but maybe he’d like a working vacation in Fiji, you never know.
His assistant is Julia, played by Parisa Fitz-Henley. And yes, she is the one who gets to utter a new interpretation of the famous “The plane! The plane!” catchphrase. What about Tattoo, you may ask? Um… well, they set him up for the sequel (that’s probably never coming), that’s all I can say at the moment. For now, let’s move on to the unfortunate victims who won a trip to this island.
Gwen (Maggie Q) is a cynic who turned down a marriage proposal five years ago. It left her paralyzed with regret, believing she’s not worthy of love or a family of her own. So now she wants a do-over, to see what might have been.
Melanie (Lucy Hale) is a vindictive and vapid little bitch who was bullied relentlessly back in high school. Thus she dreams of revenge against the high school classmate (Sloane, played by Portia Doubleday) who made her life hell. This storyline is all about living with grudges and learning to let them go.
Patrick (Austin Stowell) is a disgraced cop who always wanted to join the military. His reasons are kind of a long story, but suffice to say he’s got a ton of daddy issues to sort out.
Then we have JD and Brax (respectively played by Ryan Hansen and Jimmy O. Yang), a pair of stepbrothers and lifelong BFFs. To try and get over JD’s recent breakup, the two of them are out for a typical weekend of debauchery — sex, drugs, alcohol, and so on. What could go wrong?
Last but not least is Michael Rooker, playing… well, he’s not exactly a guest. I’m loathe to get too deep into spoilers, but suffice to say his character is one of many interesting yet mishandled ways in which the film considers the greater possibilities and ramifications of the island and how it works.
From start to finish, the characters and the plot are heavily preoccupied with figuring out the island and how it works. What’s real and what isn’t? Are the other people involved all actors? Everything from holograms to freaking time travel is put on the table. One character even raises the possibility that they’re ALL guests, all playing a part in each other’s fantasies.
This is where we start running into problems.
On a fundamental level, the premise is all about what the characters want. In storytelling terms, that’s called a “motivation”, the foundation of any character in any plot. If the motivations aren’t clear, the characters and the plot won’t be clear, that’s all there is to it.
That’s a problem when the characters go in wanting one scenario, only to decide partway through that they want or need something else. That’s an even bigger problem when the island itself is this unknowable sentient being that takes an active role in the plot for its own mysterious reasons. This is compounded by the standing question of what’s real, what isn’t, and what limits (if any) the island has in reshaping reality.
Now multiply all of those questions by four or five storylines. All affecting each other in different ways. Compounded by the revelations and double-crosses made as the film unfolds.
The end result: The film dissolves into a convoluted and incomprehensible mess by that wreck of a third act.
What’s more, this is inherently a movie about characters confronting their own flaws. The plot is all about characters who work through what they think they want on the way to discovering what they truly need. Trouble is, that only works if the characters are worth a damn.
There’s certainly the potential to develop the characters into something more fully realized, but the writing just isn’t there. The performances sure as hell aren’t there. At the top of the bill, we’ve got Michael Pena playing a Ricardo Montalban character with maybe a tenth of the late actor’s charisma, and the cast only gets weaker from there. The characters all start out thin, they all end up thin, and there’s not an actor in this cast who can make any of them the least bit compelling. (Though Maggie Q puts in a Sisyphean effort, bless her heart.)
But is it scary, at least? Hell no. The jump scares are frankly pathetic, and the filmmakers do fuck-all with the multitude of creepy ideas on display. I’ve already mentioned the incomprehensible action sequences. It’s clear that the filmmakers were depending on the mysteries of the island to power the suspense, but that only goes so far when most of the setups take the laziest and least satisfying payoff. Either that or they straight-up break their own rules to get the plot where it needs to go.
But on a positive note, I’m happy to praise the work of Bear McCreary, still one of my favorite composers in the business. While his score is loaded with sinister strings like you’d find anywhere else in the genre, he mixes it up with tropical flutes and drums. It’s a distinctive spin on the established Blumhouse sound, giving the score a Polynesian flavor of paradise without making it sound less creepy. Nicely done.
Fantasy Island (2020) is the boring kind of bad. It’s not aggressively awful, as there are a lot of genuinely good ideas in here and so much raw potential on display. Alas, it would take a better filmmaker than Jeff Wadlow to see that potential realized.
The cast is flat, the action is a mess, the horror is boring, and the script is maybe a draft or two short of where it needed to be. It’s genuinely disappointing to see a plot start out with such promise, only to collapse under the weight of its own bullshit in the third act.
Sorry, Wadlow, but you’re not as clever as you think you are. Not recommended.
Movie Curiosities: 1917
January 11, 2020 in Blogs, Curiosity Inc.
1917 is the latest passion project from director/producer/co-writer Sam Mendes, inspired by war stories told by his grandfather. The film is dedicated to Alfred Mendes, who served in the 1st Rifle Battalion of England during WWI and later went on to find success as a novelist. As for the rest… well, the trailer tells you pretty much everything you need to know going in, but I’ll be happy to elaborate.
Our stage is set during Operation Alberich, at the Western Front during the Great War. Germany has been falling back to the Hindenburg Line and the massive 2nd Battalion of the Devonshire Regiment (led by Colonel Mackenzie, played by Benedict Cumberbatch) is ready to move in and deliver one last crushing defeat to the Germans.
Problem: The higher-ups have received new aerial surveillance, showing that the Germans have been fortifying a new defensive line for the past several months. They haven’t been retreating, they’ve been luring the 2nd Battalion into a trap. And they’ve cut off the British phone lines for good measure. So now General Erinmore (Colin Firth) must arrange for a direct order to be delivered by hand, to stop all 1,600 soldiers of the 2nd Batallion from attacking before they all charge in to get slaughtered.
Enter Lance Corporal Tom Blake (Dean-Charles Chapman), whose brother (played by Richard Madden) is a lieutenant in the 2nd Battalion. So naturally, he has a deeply personal reason for getting this letter delivered ASAP. For assistance, he enlists the help of Lance Corporal Will Schofield (George MacKay), who just happened to be sitting next to him at the time. The two of them have to complete this mission alone, to move as quickly as possible, and they’re running through territory freshly burned clean (and perhaps not entirely deserted) by the German forces.
So, long story short: Our protagonist has to deliver a message within 24 hours or his brother dies along with over 1,500 soldiers. Simple enough, right?
To get this out of the way early, there are a few name actors in this cast. This is a cast featuring such talents as Colin Firth, Benedict Cumberbatch, Richard Madden, Mark Strong, Andrew Scott, and others. None of their names are above the title, and for good reason. They each get maybe two or three minutes of screen time, just long enough to do something noteworthy. Then again, it’s always noteworthy when someone else comes in — so much of the film is spent with the same two characters on a lonely and desperate mission, meeting any British soldier behind enemy lines is a sight for sore eyes.
One important thing the trailer won’t show you is that aside from one plot-motivated blackout, the entire movie is presented as one long continuous take by way of various hidden cuts. It’s really quite impressive how the actors, sets, and camera movements are choreographed to get all the necessary coverage without breaking disbelief or cutting the footage. Moreover,it certainly helps that the film was shot by Grandmaster Roger Deakins, with Lee Smith (who rightfully won an Oscar for stitching together Dunkirk) on editing, and Thomas Newman writing the atmospheric score.
That’s not even getting started on the production design from Lee Gassner (the Oscar-winning designer who put together Blade Runner 2049 and the last three James Bond movies). The costumes were designed by Jacqueline Durran (another Oscar winner, whose other most recent work can be seen in Little Women (2019)) and David Crossman (he’s either designed or supervised the costumes in some capacity for all five Disney-era Star Wars movies to date). I could go on, but the point stands that this entire cast and crew is bursting with talent, and every last ounce of it is up on the screen.
Everything about this movie, from the single-take presentation to the tiniest detail, is built around immersion. This is a movie built from the ground up to put us right there in the trenches, among the dirt and dead bodies piling up everywhere during the Great War. In fact, it’s a mercy that our two viewpoint characters are played by perfectly talented and relatively unknown actors, because it’s that much easier to put ourselves in the characters’ places.
Make no mistake about it: Following Blake and Schofield is exhausting. The two of them are never allowed to catch a break, and neither are we. Not knowing when or where the next attack will happen makes for great suspense, and the action is so much more thrilling when it finally happens.
Even when the characters do get some precious downtime and they’re going on about stories or some unimportant crap, the camera keeps rolling. There’s still a great deal of underlying tension because they’re still in a war zone and explosion or gunfire could break out at any minute. And of course, the clock is still ticking with hundreds of lives depending on that message.
But perhaps most importantly, these moments put a human face on the thousands of lives destroyed by the senseless war to begin all modern senseless wars. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands of extras in this movie, and it’s astounding how Mendes so capably makes every single one register as a fleshed-out human being. It pays heartfelt tribute to the veterans of the Great War while advancing the crucial message of “war is hell”.
Which brings us to the recurring motif of medals. Time and again, the characters talk of medals as nothing more than bits of tin and ribbon, poor compensation for dying on the battlefield. Yes, they’re supposed to be rewards for acts of extraordinary heroism, it doesn’t make the recipient any less dead or the war any more worthwhile. Trees are another prominent recurring motif, very powerful in their symbolic representation of life and comfort. This is especially powerful at the sight of all the trees burned up and/or cut down in the war effort.
I have no problem giving 1917 a full recommendation. Sam Mendes and his all-star crew set out to make the most immersive and heart-pounding war movie they possibly could, while also paying heartfelt tribute to those who served. It succeeds on all fronts. The single-take presentation serves as an innovative and compelling hook, the visuals and sound design are all aces, the lead and supporting actors are all solid, and the extras are somehow even better!
This is a lean and mean war drama masterpiece, the like of which hasn’t been seen in a very long time. Absolutely not a film to be missed.
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Movie Curiosities: Knives Out
November 28, 2019 in Blogs, Curiosity Inc.
I was on hiatus when Star Wars: The Last Jedi first saw wide release. In fact, Star Wars: The Last Jedi was very specifically stated as a minor reason why I went on hiatus. Even before the film had been released, I knew that it was a critic-proof movie that I had nothing to gain from reviewing. And dear sweet gods above, did I dodge a bullet — even I could never have predicted the overwhelmingly toxic ongoing shitstorm kicked up by that movie. It’s become utterly impossible to voice any kind of opinion on Star Wars: Episode VIII, and luckily, I won’t have to go kicking up that particular hornet’s nest for another month.
Still, the subject is worth bringing up for one Rian Johnson, the writer/director of TLJ. As with the movie itself, separating fact from fiction with regards to Johnson has become nigh-impossible over the past two years. I’ve heard from reliable sources that he’s a misogynist egomaniac, and I’ve heard from reputable filmmakers that he’s a really sweet guy.
But regardless of all the rumors and hearsay, regardless of how I or anybody else feels about Rian Johnson, there’s one undeniable fact that remains true: Brick is fucking awesome. The Brothers Bloom is also really great, and Looper is pretty solid too. Say what you will about him, but there can be little doubt that Johnson is one hell of a filmmaker. I just don’t know if big-budget tentpoles are really his thing.
So here we are with Knives Out, in which Johnson goes back to his roots and gives us a straightforward whodunit potboiler. A murder mystery from the writer/director of Brick, with an additional fifteen years of experience and star power. Thus he’s able to assemble a phenomenal cast, comprised of such talents as Christopher Plummer, Jamie Lee Curtis, Michael Shannon, Daniel Craig, Chris Evans, Don Johnson, Toni Collette, LaKeith Stanfield, Jaeden Martell nee Lieberher, Riki Lindhome, Katherine Langford, and motherfucking Frank Oz. Also, I’m pretty sure Joseph Gordon-Levitt has a voice-over cameo in there somewhere.
The premise is a tangled web and it’s gonna get messy, so get your scorecards ready and buckle up.
The Victim: Harlan Thrombey, played by Christopher Plummer. He’s a massively successful mystery thriller author with millions of books sold in dozens of different languages all over the world. He’s amassed a fortune worth several millions of dollars, he lives in a remote and extravagant mansion, and he invited his massive family over for his 85th birthday party. And at some point in the hours immediately following the party, he died under mysterious circumstances.
Suspects (Group 1): Linda Drysdale (Jamie Lee Curtis) is Harlan’s eldest child. She and her husband (Richard Drysdale, played by Don Johnson) are real estate moguls who’ve built up their own massive enterprise, though possible marital problems may be placing that business in jeopardy. It certainly doesn’t help that their son (inexplicably named Hugh Ransom Drysdale, played by Chris Evans) is the jackass playboy black sheep of the family.
Suspects (Group 2): The middle child of the family has been dead for several years, so we never meet him and he isn’t technically a suspect. He is survived by his wife (Joni Thrombey, played by Toni Collette), a vapid spoiled socialite with her own failing beauty treatment company. There’s also her daughter (Meg Thrombey, played by Katherine Langford), who’s going to college on Grandpa Harlan’s dime.
Suspects (Group 3): Walt Thrombey (Michael Shannon) is the youngest of Harlan’s children, married to the dim-witted Donna Thrombey (Riki Lindhome). They have a son (Jacob Thrombey, played by Jaeden Martell nee Lieberher), who doesn’t say much in person, but apparently spends all his time online as an incendiary alt-right troll. More importantly, Walt is responsible maintaining the rights, licenses, and published editions of his father’s written works. And much to Walt’s continuous chagrin, Harlan has repeatedly insisted on refusing all film and TV adaptations, thereby passing up potential billions of dollars.
(Side note: It’s amusing to note that this is the second time Michael Shannon has played father to Jaeden Lieberher, after the woefully underrated Midnight Special in 2016.)
The Detectives: LaKeith Stanfield is on hand as Lieutenant Elliott, a local detective who continues to insist that Harlan Thrombey’s death was a suicide. He’s assisted by Noah Segan in the role of Trooper Wagner, an obsessive fan of Harlan Thrombey and other murder mystery authors. But our main detective for the evening is Benoit Blanc, played by Daniel Craig with a comically thick southern accent. Blanc is a world-renowned private detective who’s been hired by some unknown client (Unknown even to Blanc himself!) to investigate the death of Harlan Thrombey.
The Nurse: Our de facto protagonist is none of the above-named characters, but Marta, played by Ana de Armas. In his waning years, Harlan hired Marta to be his caregiver and loyal confidante. She’s a young woman from some unspecified country south of the border, working hard to support her undocumented mother (played by Marlene Forte).
It’s worth noting that with the exception of the detectives, Marta is the only one in the entire cast who’d have nothing to gain from Harlan’s death. Perhaps more importantly, Marta has some strange nervous gastrointestinal condition that makes it utterly impossible for her to lie. (Mystery Thriller 101: Every suspect is a liar.)
So you’d think Marta couldn’t possibly be a suspect and she’d have nothing to hide, right? Well, don’t bet on it.
For those keeping track, Frank Oz turns in a brief yet noteworthy performance as Harlan’s personal lawyer. We’ve also got K Callan as Harlan’s invalid mother, providing a bit of slightly ageist yet nonetheless welcome comic relief. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Edi Patterson as the housekeeper who may or may not know more than she’s letting on.
(Side note: In case you’re wondering, there is no butler.)
Am I missing anything? Did you get all that? Good.
Obviously, spoilers prevent me from going too much further into the plot and premise. Suffice to say that everything about this from a filmmaking perspective is positively golden. The camerawork is phenomenal, the editing is a master class, and the whole production design is bursting with character. The setups are devilishly intricate and the payoffs are deceptively simple. Hell, even the red herrings and throwaway gags pay off in satisfying and unexpected ways.
But for me, the true stroke of genius was in solving the death an hour in. There’s a flashback scene that clearly and unmistakably shows Harlan Thrombey’s death, shown in vivid detail before our very eyes. With half the movie left to go. Thus the family drama takes center stage, with the secrets and politics that arise from the direct aftermath of Harlan Thrombey’s demise. And as the ensuing drama unfolds, more loose ends start to unravel, leading to the question of whether there just might be more that we don’t know, and how any additional details could possibly square with what we’ve already seen.
Which brings us back to Marta. Without going too deeply into spoilers, it should be obvious that Harlan’s loyal caregiver plays a vital role in these proceedings, and the whole family is happy to treat her as one of their own. Even though none of them can seem to keep it straight which country she’s actually from.
They’re all too perfectly happy to take good care of her, but they’re utterly terrified at the possibility that any one of them may have to depend on her grace and compassion as their patriarch did. They’re all want to keep her around as their Token Colored Friend, just so long as she knows her place. As soon as they don’t have a use for her, she’s just another illegal immigrant.
There’s one noteworthy scene in which the family gets into a heated argument along political lines. And though he’s never mentioned by name, the terminology makes it perfectly clear that they’re bickering about our 45th president and his ahem immigration policy. Thus the filmmakers send the clear point that it’s not about Republicans or Democrats, red versus blue. When the chips are down, the white and wealthy of both political parties will unite to protect their property and keep the poor POC in their place.
It’s also worth noting that all of Harlan’s children and in-laws have their own businesses and call themselves self-made successes. This despite the fact that their father was fabulously wealthy and all of them would be dead broke without his ongoing support. It’s a flagrant hypocrisy that the movie explicitly calls them out on, thus serving as a huge thematic point and a prominent motive for any of them to commit murder. Genius.
Alas, with such a massive cast in such a convoluted plot, some actors are going to fall through the cracks. Case in point, Jaeden Martell nee Lieberher is already such a battle-tested talent at such a young age, I was genuinely disappointed to see how little he got here. Riki Lindhome is barely present, but of course a comic actor of Lindhome’s caliber can make a memorable performance with less. Edi Patterson blends into the wallpaper when she needs to, but she totally fails to make an impression the one time it matters.
The standout of the cast is unquestionably Ana de Armas, here shouldering a far more prominent and dynamic role than I’ve ever seen from her. I’ve seen some great supporting roles from her in the past (see: War Dogs and Blade Runner 2049), but this film is proof that she deserves to be a leading lady and pronto. Her development arc throughout the film was a joy to behold, and I love how the film incorporates race in a meaningful way without getting too preachy or slowing the film down. Marvelous work.
Everyone else in the cast is varying shades of camp. The actors all know exactly what movie they’re in, and they know they’re all playing characters who could potentially kill or be killed at any moment. They’re having a blast and they’re appropriately fun to watch. Easily the most prominent case in point is Daniel Craig, a thoroughly and unmistakably British man wielding a Kentucky-fried southern charm. The anachronism is inherently off-putting, and it leads the audience to wonder exactly how full of shit this detective really is. Kudos are also due to LaKeith Stanfield, who brings a welcome bit of calm and decorum to keep his character from being a cartoonishly bumbling stereotype. Instead, it’s Noah Segan playing the bumbling oaf, and the two play well off each other.
Knives Out is an old-fashioned whodunit with a distinctly modern style. The film has a lot to say about social inequalities in race and wealth, delivered in a boldly topical style that gives the film a timely thematic punch. The highly relevant themes, the stellar cast, the precision plotting, and the crackerjack editing all help to flavor a deeply satisfying mystery thriller.
Of course there are a few niggling plot holes and I can’t speak to how well it’ll hold up on repeat viewings. But it’s absolutely a movie you should see at least once, as quickly as possible.
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Movie Curiosities: Frozen II
November 23, 2019 in Blogs, Curiosity Inc.
Somewhere out there, in all the different planes of the multiverse, there is a universe in which “The Snow Queen” made history as the first animated feature-length film ever made. Yes, Disney had been toying with an adaptation of Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale since before Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. For literally as long as the company has been in existence, Disney had been trying on again and off again to crack this story. For over seven decades, through the wartime propaganda phase to the post-Walt era to the ’90s Renaissance and the rise of Pixar and the CGI resurgence of Disney animation, the best and brightest at the House of Mouse simply could not figure out how to adapt this story to cinema, or how to wrap their heads around the titular queen.
The film was put back into development hell for the last time in 2010. They were rewriting the damn thing right up through June 2013. Remember, that’s five months before the film was finally released.
In hindsight, it’s little wonder the promotion for the film was such a pitiable clusterfuck. The trailers were outrageously bad, and the posters barely even showed the characters. Even the title was hastily changed to Frozen, very likely to distance the film from their precious Disney Princess lineup, thereby preserving their preteen girl fanbase while hopefully courting any preteen boys who might otherwise be turned away by a movie about princesses.
Frozen was a fluke. It was a happy little miracle that somehow came together into a world-conquering smash hit franchise. Of course a sequel was inevitable, and now Disney finally knew and appreciated what they had. Or did they?
On the one hand, Disney immediately threw the full weight of its unstoppable vertically integrated media machine behind the franchise. Anna and Elsa were quickly inducted as centerpieces of the Disney Princess lineup, and Olaf practically became Disney’s answer to the Minions. We got theatrically released short films, the Disney theme park rides, “Let it Go” on a ubiquitous infinite loop, endless oceans of merchandise, and even other Disney franchises destroyed for the sake of crossover cameos. (Pour one out for Wreck-it-Ralph.) The Mouse spared no expense whatsoever toward keeping Frozen in the pop-culture zeitgeist, getting us good and ready for a sequel that would inevitably be made with the full financial and creative support of the studio.
But on the other hand, while the notion of a sequel was of course inevitable, it raises an inherent conundrum: How to replicate the success of a film that succeeded purely by accident. How do you create the illusion that a second film had been planned all along when the first film barely had any planning to begin with? Looking back at the 75-year shitshow that was this movie’s development, and looking at the multibillion-dollar goliath the film has become, how in the Nine Hells did we even get here from there?
The easiest answer is in pointing to the Disney Princess trope subversion, delivering a princess who didn’t necessarily need a romantic interest and didn’t fall instantly in love with the first handsome man she met. In fact, it was such a radical and lucrative notion that Disney proceeded to use it over and over again in the subsequent five years. Hell, they practically made selective and strategic self-subversion the raison d’etre for their ongoing “live-action remake” phase. With their one great novelty (which wasn’t even all that new to begin with — Enchanted and Tangled had both primed the pump for it) more or less reduced to a cliche and thus rendered unusable, what else could Frozen II capitalize on?
Honestly, I don’t think the filmmakers could figure that out. Nobody had any idea what made the last film so effective, so they instead chose to focus on what made the last film marketable.
Obviously, that means bringing back Idina Menzel as Elsa. Of course we also need Kristen Bell at her right hand, reprising the optimistic effervescence of Anna and getting some songs of her own. Josh Gad is a given — hell, it feels like half the sequel mostly consists of Olaf clowning around and spouting non-sequiturs. He also gets a shit-ton of slapstick physical humor, as if to rub in our faces that the character is literally indestructible and we’re stuck with him forever regardless of whether we like it or not.
Oh, and let’s bring back Jonathan Groff to play Kristoff while we’re at it. It’d just be weird not to at this point. What’s that? Ciaran Hinds wants to come back and phone in another exposition dump? Sure, why not? It’s maybe two minutes of voice-over and the money’s there.
Is there a plot? Does it even matter? heavy sigh Okay, I’ll try my best to make this quick.
The film opens with an extended prologue, detailing a time long before Anna and Elsa were even born, back when their father (Agnarr, gamely voiced by Alfred Molina) was barely much more than a boy himself. Their grandfather (King Runeard, voiced by Jeremy Sisto) brokered a peace deal with an enchanted forest far to the north. This particular forest was populated by the tribe of Northuldra, gifted with the ability to work in magical harmony with the elemental spirits of the forest.
Things were going great until the peace deal broke down for unclear reasons. Runeard was killed, Agnarr was spirited home through unknown means, and the entire forest was covered in impenetrable mist. In all the years since, nobody’s ever gone in and nothing has ever come out.
Flash forward to about three years after the previous film. Elsa starts hearing a mysterious singing voice from the north, just before weird magical shenanigans force the entire kingdom of Arendelle to evacuate. Our heroes deduce that something strange is happening in the forest up north, so they set out to investigate and hopefully save both kingdoms.
To be entirely honest, it’s not really a plot or a movie so much as it’s a concept album. I know that may sound like a petty criticism, like I’m bagging on the musical for being a musical, but it’s so patently obvious that the filmmakers are more interested in selling soundtracks and trying to recapture the last movie’s lightning in a bottle. And they never really do.
Take, for example, Josh Gad’s big number. “When I Am Older” is set against a series of weird paranormal shenanigans happening all around Olaf in this strange forest he knows nothing about, and how he’ll presumably be a lot less scared of everything when he’s older and wiser and knows everything. The comical irony is in Olaf’s assumption that the whole world makes sense when you’re grown up. Compare that to the comical irony of “In Summer” from the last film, in which a snowman yearns for summer while blissfully ignorant of the fact that he’ll melt. That’s a strangely endearing kind of dark comedy the sequel never even aspires to.
Elsa gets a couple of huge numbers. “Into the Unknown” is a fun little number, but it only works if we assume that Elsa is going stir-crazy in Arendelle. After the prologue, Kristoff’s abortive attempts at proposing to Anna, and that massive Arendelle festival number, there’s no time at all in the first act to show the audience that Elsa is doubting her own abilities as the queen of Arendelle, and thus the whole angle falls flat.
The other big one is “Show Yourself”, which other critics have already singled out as a subtle kind of queer-coding for Elsa.
(Side note: Gay marriage is still illegal in China, and issues of LGBTQ equality are still a massively controversial hot-button topic over there. So as long as Hollywood keeps courting that lucrative Chinese box office, don’t expect to see any kind of substantial gay representation in blockbuster media anytime soon.)
Both of these songs are okay, primarily due to the phenomenal production and Idina Menzel’s powerhouse vocals. The big problem is that they’re so obviously trying to be “Let it Go”, directly inviting doomed comparisons. To start with, “Let it Go” is a landmark transformative moment for the character, a liberating payoff to half a movie’s worth of captive setup. Elsa doesn’t really have any huge threshold-breaking moments like that in the sequel, in large part because all the musical numbers leave so little time for setup, which in turn leads to weak payoffs.
Moreover, “Let it Go” — the chorus, anyway — works as a standalone anthem of empowerment. Anyone (most especially the target audience of preteen girls) can listen to it or sing along with it and feel like they’re breaking free of all constraints and chasing their full potential. By comparison, both of Elsa’s songs are so specifically tailored to her exact situation in those exact moments that they can’t possibly work the same way. Can you picture anyone bolstering their confidence with a chorus of “Into the Unknown” or reaching out to someone with a few bars of “Show Yourself”? I mean, if they can, more power to them, but I find it a bit of a stretch.
Funny enough, the closest thing this movie has to a “Let it Go” spiritual successor is probably “The Next Right Thing”. It’s a huge leap forward for Anna as a character, a song all about finding the courage to pick herself up and keep moving forward. Yet even that song falls way, WAY short of the mark because it never really kicks into gear or reaches the appropriate level of bombast. Also, with all respect to Kristen Bell, she’s no Idina Menzel.
Oh, and Kristoff gets an honest-to-God ’80s power ballad. Seriously, what the fuck?
Stepping away from the soundtrack and back to the film itself, I want to give the filmmakers credit for expanding the world beyond Arendelle. The Northuldra forest introduces all sorts of neat possibilities for the franchise moving forward, and I appreciated a bit more elaboration as to why everyone was so skittish about magic in the previous film.
Yet I have to take that credit right back for some transparently awful choices in the world-building. The elemental spirits were all clearly designed with merchandising in mind, but Disney would’ve made toys out of them anyway, so I can let that slide. What really gets stuck in my craw is the recurring plot device about how water has memory.
I’ll repeat that: Water has memory.
Which means that Elsa can summon the water particles that have apparently been sitting around after however many years, charge them with her ice magic, and they’ll automatically freeze into ice sculptures of specific moments in time. This is how the plot dispenses certain valuable clues at the prescribed moments in time.
Do I even need to explain why this could be the dumbest and laziest storytelling hand-wave ever committed to film? Even allowing for the fact that we’re dealing with magic here, this whole plot device immediately falls apart with even the most basic and cursory logic. Why is it this particular memory that crystallizes? Why don’t different water particles freeze into different memories? Why is that same water still there after so many years? How can water even remember anything or think of anything when IT’S JUST FUCKING WATER?!
The filmmakers also provide us with more details about Anna and Elsa’s parents and what they were doing out at sea to begin with, all without coming off as a cheap retcon. Impressive. Alas, it would be far more impressive if these huge discoveries were given enough time to breathe.
We are, after all, talking about the reason why Elsa has her powers. You’d think that revelation would be a colossal game-changing development for the franchise as a whole, and for Elsa in particular. But the filmmakers more or less sweep it under the rug in their rush to get to the next set piece. FAIL.
I could keep going, but I feel like pretty much everything else about this film — for better or worse — can be boiled down to the climax. I promise I’ll do my best to avoid spoilers.
Long story short, events unfold in such a way that Anna is on her own. She’s more or less back to where she was in the first movie, out on a dangerous mission with no one else to help her and no powers of her own. Once again, Anna has to prove to herself (and to the audience) that she’s not just Elsa’s sidekick, but a strong and capable hero in her own right. All well and good.
Moreover, the climax does technically hold the fate of both kingdoms at stake. There are giant monsters involved, there’s a huge set piece, and Anna puts herself at risk of mortal danger. Even on a technical level, the animation is great, the editing is fine, the camera angles and score are on point… It looks and feels like a huge blockbuster climax.
All that’s missing is tension.
For one thing, there’s simply no way to look at the film separately from its parent company. Disney made this film to sell merchandise, they made it to sell the main characters, we know perfectly well that none of them are getting killed off or altered in any serious way. Even Marvel and Star Wars are demonstrably less protective of their characters and status quo than Disney Animation.
Right at the very start of the film, Arendelle is subject to a massive natural disaster in which everyone survives and the kingdom is somehow still completely intact. There was a lot of noise, a lot of scary things happened, and no harm was ultimately done. In the opening minutes, the film sent the crystal-clear message that no substantial harm would come to anyone at any time.
But more than that, Anna is met with virtually no resistance throughout the entire climax. There is nothing of any substance between her and her goal. Even when the movie thinks about floating a potential obstacle in her way, it’s visibly tiny to the point of nonexistent and it crumbles away pretty much instantly with no time or effort.
Speaking of which, there’s the matter of the elemental spirits that started all of this. Obviously, I’m limited by spoilers here, but suffice to say that the spirits are pretty much completely in full control from start to finish. Everything happens exactly according to their plan. Not only does this seriously damage the agency of our main characters, but again, it completely robs the story of all tension. We’re never given any kind of an explanation as to why these spirits even needed our main characters or what could’ve possibly challenged these spirits in any way.
That’s not even getting started on the various plot holes that get introduced when we learn more about what these spirits are, what that mysterious voice is, or why it summoned Elsa up north. Hell, we never even learn why these spirits waited until this exact moment in time to bring Elsa up north, which means that the catalyst for this whole freaking movie goes completely unexamined.
Frozen II is all flash and no substance. The voice acting is all aces, the animation is jaw-dropping, and the songs are all immaculately produced. It looks amazing and it sounds amazing, but it all falls apart with even the most superficial examination. The plot is fundamentally broken and the filmmakers are in too big a hurry to rush to the next action scene and/or musical number, resulting in too much lazy world-building and too many botched payoffs.
Yet even as I see this film in theaters, I look at Playing with Fire and Arctic Dogs playing just next door. Given those choices, I would so much rather families take their kids to see a movie with genuine effort and heart put into it. A film that genuinely tries to be bigger and more ambitious, a sequel that takes its characters into a totally new journey in a markedly different setting, even if it’s hamstrung by the needs of franchising and merchandising.
In the final analysis, I’d say that the entire Frozen franchise has gotten too big for its own good. The first movie was clearly never designed to be a franchise on the scale that Disney built it up to be, and the sequel is the unfortunate victim of those over-inflated expectations. Still, the sequel is enjoyable enough in its own shallow way and (for better or worse) it doesn’t do anything to significantly injure the franchise.
I still don’t know how we got here from there, and I don’t know if anyone can say for sure. But while we’re here, let’s see where it goes.
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Movie Curiosities: The Lion King (2019)
July 21, 2019 in Blogs, Curiosity Inc.
I’ve heard it said that The Lion King is the most bankable franchise in history. I don’t know if that’s true anymore (I’d be interested to see those numbers after Harry Potter and the MCU), but it certainly could have been true back in the ’90s. Given the constant ubiquity of The Lion King since 1994 (I won’t even try cataloging all of its different incarnations, spin-offs, and merchandising here), of course Disney was guaranteed to revisit the film during their ongoing live-action remake phase.
With The Lion King (2019), the filmmakers promised a photo-realistic take on the same story, featuring characters and settings that look borderline indistinguishable from real live animals on the actual African savannah. Right off the bat, I considered this a massive red flag, and for one simple reason: It implies that the setting is the most important part of the movie.
Hear me out.
There’s a reason why The Lion King is frequently compared to the works of Shakespeare. The stories, themes, and characters of the original film are all classic archetypes, made from timeless and universal stuff recognizable from Shakespeare’s time and even further back into antiquity. With that in mind, answer me this: If this exact same story had been told in any other time and place, and with characters of any other species, would it really have been so radically different? Potentially, there could be as many ways to tell this story as to tell Hamlet or Macbeth.
For instance, I once saw a Romeo and Juliet adaptation in which all of the characters were orcs. Can you picture the story of The Lion King told, but all of the characters are orcs? How would that make any appreciable difference, seriously?
Speaking purely from my own experience, I’d wager that the animation and the music were both far greater reasons why the original film is so iconic and beloved. Or maybe the film means so much to you (as it did to me personally) because Mufasa’s was the first onscreen death that truly affected you. Would that death have been any less powerful or meaningful if the father and son were humans? Or aliens? Or anything other than lions?
Getting back to the animation, I disagree with the basic premise that “more realistic” automatically means “better.” The cel-shaded characters of the 1994 film may not have looked exactly like real animals, but they had personality. They each had their own distinct and identifiable look, and they could show clear facial expressions.
Just for a moment, pretend you’ve never seen anything from the 2019 remake. Maybe you’ve heard of it, but you’ve never seen a single frame of it. Now look at this picture, removed from all context. Is that Simba? Mufasa? Is it just another lion? How could you tell? But look at this picture, and I guarantee you nobody would have to ask who that is.
This gets to be an especially huge problem in the third act, when Sarabi and Nala are both grown lions, both active in the plot, and telling them apart from one another is pretty much impossible. Later on, when Simba and Scar are fighting each other, it’s all just a mass of fur and there’s no telling who’s who.
Incidentally, the original film and the remake both feature a freak bolt of lightning striking a dry tree at the most dramatically convenient time and setting all of Pride Rock ablaze in an instant. That worked in the original film because the presentation had more of a fantasy tinge, and we’d already sat through so many bright and colorful music numbers by that point. Suspending disbelief was easy. Compare that to the remake, which puts a lot more effort on setting this story in the “real” world. So much so that Mufasa’s ghost now appears as a giant thundercloud only vaguely resembling a lion’s head, and the “Just Can’t Wait to be King” number swaps out the multicolored Busby Berkeley spectacle with the actual colors and sounds of the real African savannah.
As so often happens with these Disney live-action remakes, it smacks of the filmmakers trying to have it both ways, and it doesn’t work. That said, this is the one live-action remake in which bringing back the original songs was the right decision. Because the context is virtually unchanged and all of the voices in the remake are comparable with those of the original (and in the case of Mufasa’s, literally the same), the old songs are all carried over intact. With a few exceptions.
Probably the most tragic casualty is “Can You Feel the Love Tonight?” here presented without a single iota of chemistry, magic, or romance. “Be Prepared” is almost as bad, as the “photo-realistic” approach means that we get a villain song without any of the larger-than-life bombast to make it scary, imposing, or fun in any way. Conversely, “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” is actually improved upon here, a fun little song in multi-part harmony instead of a quick throwaway joke. Otherwise, “Hakuna Matata” works out okay, and the opening “Circle of Life” number is practically a shot-for-shot remake of the original sequence.
(Side note: The soundtrack also features an original song called “Spirit”. I couldn’t tell you a thing about it if I tried.)
Speaking of which, this movie puts in a far more deliberate effort at making “The Circle of Life” into more than just a catchphrase. The interconnected nature of life, how everyone has a place in the grand scheme of things, and how we therefore have a responsibility to one another because every action has consequences… these are all prominent themes made abundantly clear to an extent that they never were in the original film. For example, it’s explicitly stated in the remake that Scar allowed his hyenas to overhunt, wantonly culling the population of prey animals to throw off the Circle of Life, and that is why Pride Rock fell to shit when he took the throne. That is a massive improvement.
On the other hand, we also get a subplot in which Scar covets Sarabi for his own wife. While this was always kinda sorta implied in the source material, this movie makes it perfectly clear to no effect at all. Seriously, the added motivation is useless and it would’ve been more than enough that Scar was greedy and power-mad for the sake of it.
Given that the remake is half an hour longer than the original, it should come as no surprise that there’s a lot of bloat here. One prominent case in point comes late in the second act, when Nala has to sneak her way out of Pride Rock. There’s this whole extended sequence in which Nala is trying to avoid Scar and his hyenas, and it would have done just as much good on the cutting room floor.
But of course the most bewildering waste of time has to be the sequence in which a tuft of Simba’s hair finds its way to Rafiki. In the original film, this took virtually no time at all — a simple cross-fade and it was done. Here, it’s this massive, sprawling, three-minute sequence in which we follow Simba’s hair every single agonizing step of the way. And a significant stretch of that journey includes the digestive tract of a giraffe. Yes, you read that correctly.
Getting back to the villains roster, Chiwetel Ejiofor was a marvelous choice for Scar and he plays the role superbly. Banzai and Ed have now been replaced with Kamari and Azizi, respectively played by Keegan-Michael Key and Eric Andre. (I presume Jordan Peele was unavailable.) Thus instead of a triple-act — as in the original film — we now have a double-act of bickering hyenas. I’m willing to call that an upgrade, especially since the two of them are played by gifted comedians and Ed was useless by design anyway.
Meanwhile, Shenzi (Florence Kasumba) has been promoted and she is now the Chief Hyena. This was apparently done so that Nala (Beyonce) would have a worthy opponent to fight in the climax, and I really don’t mind that. After all, it’s not like Nala served much of any purpose in the source material, except to serve as a love interest. Hell, even Zazu, Pumbaa, and Rafiki show some backbone and get in on the action at times. It’s not always much, but kudos all the same.
Zazu (John Oliver), Pumbaa (Seth Rogen), and Timon (Billy Eichner) are all fantastic. Zazu and Pumbaa are by far the most improved, as it makes an incalculably huge difference to have comic relief characters played by actors who are legitimately funny. Granted, neither Oliver nor Rogen can sing for shit, but that’s not exactly a dealbreaker as neither of those were ever huge singing roles.
The big problem with the comic relief — and this is pretty much solely limited to Timon and Pumbaa — is that it gets uncomfortably meta. There are a lot of direct references to the original film, and the hula number in the original is here replaced with a straight-up parody of a Disney song from another film. (No, I’m not spoiling which one.) On the one hand, it was imperative to bring in new jokes and new surprises to keep the comedy fresh for the remake. And it’s not like the original film was entirely void of anachronisms or Disney references (“It’s a Small World”, anyone?).
On the other hand, these meta references and comments on the original film add to the feeling that this remake can’t stand on its own merit. That was always going to be this remake’s biggest problem and its main struggle for credibility. Even as it is, I’m mentally projecting the 1994 character designs onto the 2019 character designs because it’s the only way I can tell who’s who. When the filmmakers are already fighting an uphill battle in convincing moviegoers that this remake is justified, leaning so heavily against the original film and other Disney pictures seems to be a tactical blunder.
Back to the voice cast, of course it was a joy to hear James Earl Jones back in the role of Mufasa. Sure, he’s getting on in years, but that works beautifully with the character. We’ve also got Alfre Woodard on hand, turning in a solid performance as Sarabi. Further kudos are due to JD McCrary and Shahadi Wright Joseph, respectively voicing Young Simba and Young Nala. I especially liked the film’s renewed emphasis on Simba’s childish fixation on being treated as the future king (read: king), rather than a helpless cub.
Alas, adult Simba and adult Nala don’t fare nearly as well. Beyonce was miscast, and she clearly sounds like the role is beneath her. And Donald Glover… buddy, I love you, but you’re not a voice actor. And that makes a huge difference when the onscreen characters are barely capable of emoting. The voice acting and the camera movements are pretty much all we’ve got for getting into the characters’ heads and understanding their emotions, so when the voice acting isn’t there, we’re dead in the water.
The Lion King (2019) is ultimately a remake. Nothing more, nothing less. It does some things better, it does other things worse, and it all evens out to nothing lesser or greater than a different telling of the same old story. Not any better or worse, necessarily, just different.
That said, I keep coming back to the meta jokes, plus the songs and character designs that are nowhere near as effective as those of the original. With that in mind, I have a very difficult time justifying this movie as its own standalone feature, and I can’t imagine that this would be anyone’s ideal introduction to the franchise.
I’m giving this one a highly tentative recommendation, but only as a supplement to the original animated feature. Not unlike the Broadway stage show, come to think of it.
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Movie Curiosities: Spider-Man: Far From Home
July 2, 2019 in Blogs, Curiosity Inc.
(FULL DISCLOSURE: Spoilers for Avengers: Endgame will be unavoidable for many obvious reasons. So I’m going to write this review with the assumption that you’ve either seen Endgame for yourself or had somebody spoil it for you by now. You’ve been warned. By the way, can I please come live in that rock you’ve been living under, at least until the 2020 elections are over?)
All of the movies in Phase I of the MCU may have been crucial in their own way, but it was Captain America: The First Avenger that most firmly established the Tesseract, which would later go on to be the central MacGuffin of The Avengers and the first of the Infinity Stones that powered the entire Infinity Saga. While The Avengers may have been immediately followed by Iron Man 3, it was Captain America: The Winter Soldier that did the most heavy lifting in picking up the pieces and defining what the post-Avengers MCU would look like. And then of course we have Captain America: Civil War, such an enormous game-changing crossover that it might as well have been Avengers 3.
Second only to the Avengers films themselves, it’s easy to make the case that the Captain America films were the most pivotal in the entire MCU. But now that Steve Rogers has passed the shield, it appears that Marvel is positioning Spider-Man to take center stage. Which makes sense, given that the Webhead has easily been Marvel’s most iconic, beloved, universally recognized character since his introduction in 1962. And of course now that Marvel finally has some degree of control over the film rights of the character, they’re eager to make up for lost time.
So here we are with Spider-Man: Far From Home, a movie ideally positioned to pick up the pieces of Endgame and define where the MCU will be going in Phase IV. Especially because as of right now, we don’t really know where Phase IV is going. Yes, it’s an open secret that the Black Widow standalone movie entered production two months ago (Better late than fucking never!!!) with a full cast in place, and there are signs that Marvel is gearing up for an Eternals movie. This in addition to the Black Panther, Captain Marvel, Doctor Strange, and Guardians of the Galaxy sequels that are all either rumored or conjectured to be in various phases of development. Hell, that’s not even getting started on all the 20th Century Fox franchises and characters that have finally returned to Marvel, or when and how the PTB ever plan on integrating the Fantastic Four or the X-Men into the MCU.
Right now, we know next to nothing about any of these movies or plans because Marvel hasn’t made any official announcement about their upcoming slate. They were reportedly waiting to make the big announcement until after Endgame and Far From Home. Which means that everything I just typed could be obsolete within a week and you probably know more than I do right now.
Anyway, Far From Home opens with the immediate fallout from The Blip, which is now what we’re calling the incident in which Thanos snapped his fingers and made half the human race disappear, only for those same people to reappear five years later without having aged a day. Conveniently, it appears that Peter Parker (Tom Holland again) and all of his high school friends and family were among those who got Blipped, and so they get to appear without five years’ worth of age makeup for this film.
That said, there are very serious repercussions for suddenly disappearing without a trace only to spontaneously reappear five years later. If somebody got Blipped at age sixteen and hasn’t aged a day in five years, are they technically an adult? What if somebody reappeared in the middle of traffic? What about those who came back only to find that somebody else moved into their old place and took all their stuff in the interim?
In theory, Spider-Man is the perfect character to examine all of these angles, since he’s always had one foot in the mundane and one foot in the superpowered. In practice, the Blip fallout is pretty much entirely contained to the first fifteen minutes, quickly supplanted by all the “hero stuff” he needs to do — and the “high schooler stuff” he wants to do — in the here and now.
For whatever reason, Midtown High has decided that immediately after the Blip (to say nothing of the cataclysmic events of Endgame) would be the ideal time to take a handful of students on a summer trip to Europe. Of course Peter is in attendance, and hopeful to win the affections of MJ (Zendaya). We’ve also got Peter’s best friend (Ned Leeds, played once again by Jacob Batalon), who’s just struck up a whirlwind romance with Betty Brant (played in this iteration by Angourie Rice). Of course we also have Tony Revolori on hand as the preening rich pretty-boy Flash Thompson, and Brad Davis (Remy Hii) is on hand as a rival for MJ’s attention. Rounding out the tour group are Martin Starr and J.B. Smoove as a pair of bickering chaperone teachers.
With the obvious exception of Peter, and the occasional exception of MJ, all of these characters are comic relief. And some of them fare better than others. Batalon is still a riot as Peter’s hapless sidekick, and the flirtatious Ned/Betty fling makes for a hilarious contrast against Peter’s own romantic troubles. It’s always fun to see Flash get the piss taken out of him, especially given how much he idolizes Spider-Man and hates Peter. Brad Davis is a sore spot — a Blipped kid inexplicably played as a young teenager in a grown adult’s body. The teachers come within a hair’s breadth of wearing out their welcome, and I was disappointed to see J.B. Smoove — a far more talented comedian who specializes in this type of character — get something like a third of the screen time given to shrill, overbearing Martin Starr.
It’s perfectly clear that all of these characters were built to be walking punchlines, as opposed to credible human beings. Then again, the MCU Spider-Man films were built from the ground up to be high school coming-of-age comedies in the vein of John Hughes. God knows that John Hughes pictures were all about teenage archetypes, and at least the filmmakers had the good sense to update those stereotypes into something more consistent with the 21st century. That said, Hughes’ pictures (at their best, anyway) always had a strong beating heart, the kind of which is virtually absent with these characters.
But let’s get back to Peter and MJ. Peter is absolutely mad about MJ, and the attraction makes close to no sense. Peter Parker, after all, is a lovable dork with his heart on his sleeve, always eager to do the right thing and make the best impression. Compare that to MJ, the iconoclast with the sardonic sense of humor, the constant expression of apathy, and an affinity for serial killer podcasts. Then again, a huge part of Peter’s problems (Trust me, we’ll get to them in a minute.) is in the fact that he cares too much. He wants to save everyone and do everything, even though he can’t. I submit the possibility that maybe he envies the girl who doesn’t seem to care at all, and maybe wants to be with MJ precisely because she’d be totally fine with him dropping everything to stop bank robbers on the other side of town.
But then the movie progresses and a funny thing happens: Peter and MJ both let their masks slip. (Yes, the trailers have already spoiled that MJ finds out about the secret identity.) It turns out that when the chips are down and MJ is presented with extraordinary circumstances, she really is every bit as courageous and kind-hearted as Peter is, and the off-putting persona is simply an image that she projects for the sake of popularity, or maybe protection. And by the way, NONE of this is made explicit in the text. It all comes through in Zendaya’s performance and her chemistry with Holland. Beautifully done.
Alas, it is the eternal curse of Peter Parker that he can never be happy. He always has to choose between his life as a normal teenage boy and his responsibilities to do as a superhero what nobody else can. And that dilemma reaches epic levels after the Blip, in a time when galactic threats have become the status quo and everyone on Earth wants to know what the plan is for the next one. That last point is especially huge, now that Spider-Man is a superhero in a time when Iron Man is dead, Captain America is retired, Thor and the Guardians are off-world, Doctor Strange is off in whatever dimension, Black Panther is busy running his own country, and Captain Marvel… well, you get the idea. There’s a deficit of available superheroes, is the point.
(Side note: If you still haven’t seen Captain Marvel for whatever reason, now’s the time. Don’t ask why.)
Which brings us to the most prominent character in the movie who isn’t actually in the movie. This iteration of Spider-Man has been living in Tony Stark’s shadow since he first stepped into frame on Civil War, and he’s still there even after Tony Stark died. Again, there’s a deficit of superheroes and everybody wants to know who will fill the void left by Iron Man. There’s a lot of pressure on Spider-Man — as a friendly neighborhood superhero who makes himself known and available to the public — to step up. It certainly doesn’t help that Tony Stark himself mentored Spider-Man, made him an Avenger, and even bequeathed him with our MacGuffin for the film.
Stark gave his life to save the rest of the world, and the rest of the world remembers him for that. What they’re conveniently forgetting is that Stark would never have made that sacrifice play until he finally did. The one other time he came close, he was traumatized by the revelation of how small he was in the grand scheme of things and overreacted by making goddamn Ultron. Iron Man was a hero who saved countless lives with so many brilliant inventions, yet Tony Stark was also a paranoid alcoholic egomaniac with crippling daddy issues and more money than sense.
On the one hand, as Peter grapples with his fuck-ups and failings, it’s sweet of him to find solace in the knowledge that even his late mentor constantly second-guessed himself and made mistakes that were literally apocalyptic in scale. On the other hand, now that Stark is dead, the darker half of his legacy is about to come roaring back in a huge way.
Getting back to Spider-Man, Stark himself was always cautioning Peter from punching above his weight class. It was Stark who encouraged Peter to find his niche as the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and not as the savior of mankind that Iron Man tried to make himself into. Sure, Spider-Man went into space and fought in the battle for the Infinity Gauntlet, but that was very solidly an anomaly, and he also had help from several other Avengers at the time. Going even further up that steep difficulty curve and staying there — on his own! — is a huge ask. Especially for a teenage boy just getting started back in high school after most of his fellow students grew five years older without him and he just fought in the most epic battle of all time with the fate of the universe at stake after coming back from the dead and OH MY GOD, NICK FURY, THE KID NEEDS A BREAK!
Yes, it’s Nick Fury and Maria Hill (Welcome back, Samuel L. Jackson and Cobie Smulders!) forcing Spider-Man into combat against a world-ending threat. While the constant spectre of Tony Stark is a passive encouragement for Peter to give up his public persona and pick up the Spider-Man gig full-time, it’s our favorite SHIELD honchos (Remind me, is SHIELD a thing again? I’ve lost track.) exerting the active pressure and keeping Spider-Man in the fight. It’s not their best decision — in fact, Fury and Hill make a number of bad decisions over the course of the film. And if it seems like the two of them are less competent than we’ve come to expect… well, there’s a reason. Whoo boy, is there a reason.
This brings me to our villain of the movie, and no, it is not a goddamn spoiler to say that Mysterio (Jake Gyllenhaal) is the villain. He’s only one of the most iconic baddies in Spider-Man’s vast rogues gallery, and his entire persona is built around illusions and misdirections. Of course he’s the bad guy, his pretending to be a good guy is entirely in character for him, and I’m not going to waste any effort pretending otherwise.
It’s the matter of what Mysterio’s game is, and all the various ways he screws around with Spider-Man, that’s where the surprises are.
There are fans who’ve been clamoring for Mysterio to appear for twenty years, in no small part because the character lends himself to all sorts of mesmerizing VFX possibilities. Indeed, there are one or two sequences — most especially the one just after the hour mark — when Mysterio is operating at his full potential and it’s a stunning assault on the senses. Especially on IMAX. It certainly helps that Gyllenhaal has no shortage of charisma — whether he’s earning Peter’s trust or chewing the scenery with nefarious gusto, he’s always a treat to watch.
While the filmmakers took their time in bringing out Mysterio, it makes a lot of sense to bring him out now and in this way. As I’ve said a few times now, there’s a deficit in superheroes, and it makes sense that Mysterio would try to exploit that for his own purposes. What’s more, after so many movies of dealing with killer robots, magic demons, and endless swarms of aliens, the people of this world are ready to believe just about anything. Which makes them ripe pickings for a master scam artist like Mysterio.
Last but not least… well, how do I put this without spoilers? As in the comics, Quentin Beck isn’t a superhuman, just an ordinary guy with a knack for special effects who plays at being a superhuman. It plays perfectly as an extension of the Vulture from Spider-Man: Homecoming, and the central notion that there’s no place for normal people in the MCU. In this world of capes and superpowers, how is your typical man on the street supposed to make any kind of difference?
(Side note: I have to wonder, without those ordinary people on the street, what exactly are the superhumans trying to change the world for? Why are the superheroes doing all these extremely dangerous things — hell, why did Iron Man sacrifice himself — if not for the chance that non-supers would have a better chance at happiness in a safer place to live? It’s not an issue ever raised in the movie, it’s something that only occurred to me just now. I sincerely hope that some superhero filmmaker out there thinks to raise the point in a movie sometime, I’d like to see that.)
Getting back to an earlier point about Mysterio, he never would have worked in either of the previous Spider-Man film franchises because during the Maguire and Garfield eras, the Spider-Sense was (let’s be honest here) absurdly overpowered. There’s no way Mysterio’s illusions and tricks would have worked on a Spider-Man whose ability to sense danger bordered on precognition. Compare that to the MCU iteration, and a Spider-Man who’s still growing into his Spider-Sense and learning how to use it. In this context, putting him up against Mysterio and forcing him to hone that power makes all kinds of sense.
That said, at least the previous franchises showed the Spider-Sense in a cool way that clearly showed when it was in effect. Compare that to this movie, in which the Spider-Sense is apparently used without much of any sign at all — not even the wavy lines of the comics. Additionally, I find it suspicious that never once in this movie (not even once in the entire MCU to date, I’m pretty sure) is it ever referred to as the “Spider-Sense”. Instead, it’s given the cutesy and barf-worthy name of the “Peter-Tingle”. At this point, I have to wonder if this is a rights thing. Does Sony own the exclusive rights to the phrase “Spider-Sense” or something? Even now, in the end credits for this picture, I notice that “Columbia Pictures Inc.” is listed as the author of this movie for copyright purposes.
And yes, you had damn well better stay through the credits for this movie. You’re going to regret it so hard if you don’t stay for the mid-credits stinger AND the end-credits stinger.
Let’s close out with a few nitpicks, some miscellaneous notes, and one huge drawback. To start with, Mysterio’s methods and master plan depend heavily on a certain plot device that would’ve made a huge difference if it had been around during Endgame. Just saying.
Major points are due for a surprise cameo role that goes all the way back to Iron Man, and another that goes back even farther.
While Michael Giacchino’s main theme for Spider-Man is growing on me, I’m still not 100 percent sold on it. Of course Giacchino’s a grandmaster and I love hearing all the ways he experiments and tinkers with the main theme all throughout the film. Even so, it still sounds like a generic superhero theme without much of anything to evoke the particular image of Spider-Man. It’s not bad, but I know he can do better.
Elsewhere, Marisa Tomei is always a joy in the role of Aunt May, and she’s got a sweet little romance arc with Happy Hogan (Jon Favreau, of course) to serve as yet another comic foil against Peter’s own romance troubles. Alas, Tomei is barely in the flick and she makes no appreciable impact at all. She’s functionally nothing more than Peter’s lifeline back to New York, which serves basically zero purpose here.
This brings me to the huge overarching problem of the entire movie: Much like Peter Parker himself, the movie is waging a constant war between what it wants to do and what it has to do. Reading back over this review, I’m sure you can spot so many amazing ideas and angles for the filmmakers to explore, and the filmmakers try to tackle ALL of it, while also making room for the MCU world-building, WHILE ALSO giving us long and breathtaking action sequences, all in the space of a two-hour movie.
This film has a significant problem with pacing because the filmmakers are in a constant rush to hurry us from one scene to the next. Even if the segues don’t make sense, the writers just hand-wave it away by saying “Because Nick Fury,” or “Mysterio did it.” Hell, just look at all the scenes and jokes that were so prominent in the trailers, yet noticeably absent in the finished movie — there’s proof enough that this film was hacked to pieces in the editing room.
Oh, and we don’t see anything more of Donald Glover, Miles Morales, or any of the villains from Homecoming. The movie was already so overstuffed, I didn’t even miss them.
While Spider-Man: Far From Home is a lot of fun, there’s no denying it’s got some flaws. There are so many great ideas in here with regards to deeper themes, character arcs, and the aftermath of the Blip, and pretty much all of them are only given surface-level treatment without much of any chance to really breathe. Yes, the actors involved are all a joy to watch, and the action scenes (most especially those in which Mysterio really cuts loose with no holds barred) are fantastic, but the film is sadly crushed under the weight of the MCU.
I’m still happy to give the film a recommendation, but with adjusted expectations.
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Movie Curiosities: John Wick Chapter 3: Parabellum
May 19, 2019 in Curiosity Inc.
“Si vis pacem, para bellum.” –De Re Militari, by Publius Flavius Vegetius Renatus
At this point, I’m pretty sure the John Wick franchise has attained critic-proof status. You should already know by now exactly what you’re getting and whether or not you’re on board, regardless of whatever comes out in the reviews or promos. The filmmakers are certainly sure of what the audience came to see: Not even twenty minutes into John Wick Chapter 3: Parabellum, Keanu Reeves’ eponymous assassin has already engaged in the greatest knife fight in cinema history, shortly after using a common hardback book to beat a giant to death.
The action is exactly the same high caliber of visceral, creative, and abundant you’d come to expect. Bonus points are due for bringing in Cecep Arif Rahman and Yayan Ruhian for an extended fight sequence — it’s about damn time someone in Hollywood made effective use of the martial arts talent behind The Raid. Of course, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the use of live animals in certain action sequences, though you’d think the horses would have been considerably more scared and upset by all the gunfire going off around them.
We also get an extended shootout with attack dogs, utilized in brilliant ways. The inclusion of attack dogs is doubly brilliant because it serves as a neat callback to John Wick’s own notorious soft spot for canines. The movie never lets us forget (because the characters have a nasty habit of recapping the plot every ten minutes) that all of this death and destruction only happened because of one entitled asshole who killed the wrong guy’s puppy for no reason at all. Seriously, look back at these three movies and think about how many more people would be alive and happy if that Iosef Tarasov prick had decided to mind his own business and take someone else’s car.
Oh, and if you’re curious, CinemaBlend counts 84 kills in the first movie and 118 in the second. It’s obviously too early to get a count for the third movie, but there had to be at least 85 headshots alone. Even when the nameless thugs are clad in the latest impenetrable bulletproof helmets and armor, the filmmakers still find ways to make a motherfucker’s head blow up. So… very… many… headshots.
Back to the point, what I personally associate most strongly with the John Wick franchise is the constant recurring theme of escalation. “Rules and consequences”, as the characters in the third movie keep putting it. Actions beget reactions, trespasses bring reprisals, and bodies keep piling up higher because virtually every last character in the whole damn franchise is too proud to get hit without hitting back twice as hard. You’d think that after John Wick went and killed over 80 people because of a dead dog, everyone else in this criminal underworld would’ve gotten the message that the best way to deal with John Wick is to leave him the high holy fuck ALONE.
For the latest case in point, John Wick killed a new member of the High Table, some nebulous governing body in the world of this franchise. Of course the High Table wants him dead, but they just can’t stop with that. No, they have to go after anyone who ever helped out John Wick along the way. Even after all of John Wick’s allies publicly disowned him, the High Table has to have their pound of flesh and they’re going to take it out of anyone with even the slightest connection to John Wick’s transgression.
Thus we have the Adjudicator (Asia Kate Dillon), who works on behalf of the High Table to hunt down John Wick’s allies. Naturally, this results in the High Table making many powerful enemies, destroying central pillars of the system they’ve built, and making a whole ton of unnecessary headaches for themselves because making an example out of John Wick wasn’t enough. No, the High Table simply must take any excuse to kill people, or demand their subjects brutally maim themselves in a show of fealty.
Given that assassins need peak physical performance to do their job, I question the wisdom of forcing them to mutilate themselves for no reason. Furthermore, I question the High Table’s wisdom in burning bridges and killing off potential allies. Between their own harsh brand of justice and John Wick’s ongoing murder spree, how many loyal assassins could they possibly have left?!
And what of John Wick himself? Well, we’re treated to a few fleeting glimpses at his early origins (I’m still waiting on that prequel, by the way), courtesy of Anjelica Huston’s character. We’re also introduced to an old friend (Sofia, played by Halle Berry), now the manager of the Continental branch in Casablanca, and she still grudgingly owes John a favor. But more than that, the movie answers two very important questions left over from the cliffhanger of the second film: Where does John think he’s running to, and why does he still want to live? I’m not going to spoil the answers to both questions, but they’re both so beautifully perfect that I kinda hate myself for not thinking of them sooner.
Yes, this movie has everything the fans could have possibly expected from it, with one glaring exception: A conclusion. There was always the implicit promise that this would be the capstone of a trilogy, but that turned out to be dead wrong and we’re treated to yet another cliffhanger in the final scene. The filmmakers seem intent on extending the series indefinitely, in addition to the video game, the television series, the spinoff film franchise, and who knows what else in various phases of development.
The drawback to all this breathing room is that the filmmakers apparently felt less pressure to go into the world-building. Why drop any major developments now when they could space out the exposition across so many films and TV episodes? Thus we get a film in which the High Table is constantly name-dropped, but we don’t learn anything new about precisely what it is and how it works. We’ve got a new Continental location and there’s a neat glimpse of the place where the gold coins are manufactured, but that’s not really anything huge. We do at least get a couple of great new characters, though — Anjelica Huston’s character introduces a whole new avenue of world-building possibilities to be explored in the spinoff movies, and Halle Berry took to this franchise like a penguin to snow.
Overall, unfortunately, it feels like the movie takes a step back for every step forward. I was especially disappointed to see a huge decision halfway through that might have had far-reaching implications for the franchise, if only the filmmakers hadn’t chickened out and reversed it at the last minute. In the end, while some developments happened, a few characters were introduced, and a whole lotta people got killed, I’m at a loss for any reason as to why the opening of Chapter 3 couldn’t have been its first scene and gone from there. Couple this with all the godawful exposition getting flung every which way, incessantly recapping the plot at every opportunity and I’m struggling for an explanation as to how this script could possibly have been the work of four credited writers.
Come to think of it, who are the four writers? * checks IMDb *. Well, one of them is series co-creator Derek Kolstad, obviously. Then we’ve got Shay Hatten, who’s also writing… the upcoming Ballerina spinoff. Another writer is Chris Collins, the writer and showrunner of the upcoming The Continental TV show. I can’t find confirmation that Marc Abrams is involved with The Continental, but given his extensive history in writing television, I wouldn’t be surprised.
Moving on to the cast, of course Keanu Reeves is outstanding. Ian McShane and Laurence Fishburne look like they’re having a great deal of fun. That goes double for Halle Berry, Lance Reddick, and Mark Dacascos, all of whom get extended action sequences to go with their larger-than-life characters. Alas, Anjelica Huston is stuck with a mediocre performance (by her standards, anyway) for want of better direction or anything interesting to do.
As for Asia Kate Dillon… God, what a waste. A nonbinary actor playing a nonbinary character might have given the Adjudicator a kind of off-putting edge if anything was done with that angle, but no such luck. Moreover, while Dillon is clearly giving it their all and they do have a nicely unique screen presence, they simply do not have anywhere near the gravitas to hold the screen against Reeves, McShane, Fishburne, or Reddick; much less pose a legitimate threat to any of them.
I’ll say this about John Wick Chapter 3: Parabellum — you certainly won’t be bored watching it. Between the larger-than-life characters and the mind-blowing action sequences, this latest entry delivers more of the adrenaline-fueled fun you know and love from the previous two. That said, the plot and world-building still feel half-baked, most likely because this was built as a primer for all the Extended Universe stuff in development and not as the end of a trilogy. Seriously, just look at how many “writers” were credited with this limp script and how many of them are going off to other projects in this franchise.
But as I said before, none of this ultimately matters. If you’ve seen the first two movies, you’ll want to see the third one and I’m sure you’ll have fun with it. And if you haven’t seen the first two movies, you should get on that because they’re fucking awesome.
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Movie Curiosities: Avengers: Endgame
April 28, 2019 in Blogs, Curiosity Inc.
You realize how goddamn ridiculous this is, right? Just take a moment to think about it: We as a civilization are being asked to cram the multiplexes 24/7, paying premium ticket prices and three precious hours for a movie we know literally nothing about, and we can’t share a single iota of information about it with anyone who hasn’t seen it. No other franchise could get away with this. I don’t even think Star Wars or James Bond could get away with a three-hour movie. Even when Lord of the Rings put us through so many three-hour films, at least we knew they would follow the books.
Try to imagine literally anything else that hundreds of millions of people would line up to put so much of their time and money into sitting through, totally blind and without any remote semblance of an informed opinion. Then again, it’s Marvel — who needs an informed opinion at this point? After eleven years and over 20 movies, you’re either on board or you’re not and there’s nothing anyone could say or do to convince anyone to switch sides.
Furthermore, while this level of loyalty would be completely absurd for any other movie, the Marvel films haven’t really been “any other movie” for quite some time. Marvel films — most especially the Avengers films — have become a strange fusion between cinema and television, in which every film is like its own season. So, thinking about Avengers: Endgame as a new television season — in which everyone who’s seen the previous season cliffhanger will be running to see what happens next, and only a bastard would spoil anything for those who aren’t caught up — this kind of fervor makes a lot more sense.
What’s more, basic film discussion etiquette dictates that the third act of any movie should be off-limits for any spoiler-free talk. The characters involved, the plot, the premise, the central conflict, the genre… everything essential that the audience would need to know going in can easily be covered within the first act, and maybe parts of the second. There’s no need to discuss the third act, and that’s where Marvel is at now. This entire three-hour movie is the climax and denouement of the Infinity Saga.
This is not at all a typical movie, any more than this whole Infinity Saga is a typical franchise. Hell, it’s more than a franchise — it’s a superfranchise (a franchise comprised of smaller franchises, and yes, I’m still trying to make this a thing instead of the “shared universe” phrase) the size, scale, and success of which has never been seen in film history. So much has already been said and done about this, and it’s already been so deeply ingrained in pop culture, what the hell are you still reading this review for?
You’re not going to read anything new here. I’m not going to tell you anything you don’t already know or anything you don’t want to know. I’m not going to change your mind one way or the other about seeing this movie. Hell, I could post my review now with nothing but “It’s great, go see it”, and call it a day. I wouldn’t even have to see the movie to write the review, I could post it right now and you wouldn’t even notice or care.
The critical praise and hype for this one is so huge and all-encompassing that I can only confirm everything and contribute nothing. You want the most epic battle in all of cinematic history? It’s here. You want cameos and callbacks from every corner of the MCU, going all the way back to Iron Man? You got it. You want knee-slappers, heartbreakers, tearjerkers, and fist-pumping fuck-yeah moments? Done, done, done, and done. Innovative plot twists, fantastic performances, mind-blowing effects, a satisfying payoff for so many years of obsessively following these movies in a way that sets up the next saga… It’s all here.
I know it seems impossible to include all of this in one movie. I know it sounds like the movie is overhyped to high heaven. But the screen time is long, the budget is “yes”, and everyone involved in this production has had a lot of practice at this. Believe the hype and go see the movie now.
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…I notice you’re still here.
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…I don’t know what else I can tell you, go see it.
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…Really? You really want me to go on reviewing this in my typical style?
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…Even if it means going into teensy tiny little plot details in the most vague and broad terms I can manage, as I usually do?
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…You’re not going to complain to me about spoilers? Seriously? Because if you’re still reading at this point, I don’t want to hear it.
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…Okay, I guess we’re doing this. Let’s get to the nitpicks.
The big one for me is Thanos. Specifically, it irked me that never once did he learn the error of his ways. A rather crucial and iconic part of his character in the comics is that Thanos’ nihilistic philosophy is self-defeating, Thanos himself is unworthy to possess any power, and because he knows all of this deep down, anything he does is guaranteed to fail in the long run. Alas, it appears the nihilism that was always Thanos’ central defining trait in the comics will never be explored in the movies. What’s far worse is that after all the time and effort Infinity War put into giving Thanos layers and nuance, this movie chucks all of that into a dumpster roughly half an hour in. After that, he’s no more interesting or well-defined than he was when we first met the character.
In fact, I thought the whole movie was thematically underwhelming, especially when compared to the previous film. Infinity War was all about the dilemma between the needs of the many and the needs of the few, while this one is more about finding the strength to get back up and keep on fighting after getting knocked back down. Both are typical superhero themes, here blown up to the most psychotically cosmic scale imaginable. The difference is that the first one drove the plot forward, forcing the characters between two decisive actions; while the second one prompts a lot of navel-gazing and soul-searching before the characters actively decide to get the plot going.
That said, it’s certainly not a total loss. Right in the middle of the climax, there’s one jaw-dropping shot that perfectly and beautifully depicts the strength and courage of one hero standing alone against impossible odds. Far more importantly, it means that the Avengers have to spend the first half of the movie without an adversary they can defeat with punches and laser blasts. They are a team of superheroes without a single supervillain between them, unable and/or unwilling to accept they’ve well and truly lost with no chance of success.
We’ve never really seen that in a superhero movie before, certainly not to this degree. Thus we have so many deeply human and vulnerable scenes with our cast, which in turn leads to plenty of fuck-yeah redemptive moments. This also leads to new perspectives on these characters — no mean feat, considering how much time we’ve already spent with them.
That said, the results are hit-and-miss. Captain America and Iron Man probably get the best of it, respectively playing the hero who most refuses to move on and the hero most eager to move on. Thor breaks down into a gelatinous mass of self-pity, which nicely plays into Chris Hemsworth’s natural strength as a comedian, but all the fat jokes were more than a bit problematic. Hulk was all well and good, but his character here was built from a huge watershed moment that should have been portrayed onscreen. Scarlett Johansson’s performance is more of the same, but it was great to see Hawkeye take charge and make a huge impression outside the other heroes’ shadows.
The supporting cast all make huge impressions, which is certainly a benefit to a cast half as big as the previous outing. It was so great to see Rhodey finally get the time and space to come into his own, without coming off as Iron Man’s underappreciated sidekick. I was also thrilled to see Karen Gillan turn in such incredible work, and Paul Rudd brought some fantastic comic relief. Then of course we have Rocket, whose snarky brand of humor brought some much-needed tough love and straight talk to the characters who most needed it.
Alas, the biggest disappointment had to be Captain Marvel. For all the effort that went into hyping her up for this movie, she actually doesn’t do very much. I mean, I know Brie Larson shot this movie before her own, so she didn’t really know all that much about her character. But then, Tom Holland also shot a huge crossover before his own movie, and he got way more screen time in Civil War to figure that out!
Then of course we have the time travel element. On the one hand, this opens up the scope of the movie in a huge way, directly leading to some of the best callbacks, cameos, and payoffs in the whole picture. It was genuinely exciting to see the return of so many characters who’d been long since written out of the MCU. Even if one of them (I’ll let you guess who) only appeared through a combination of archival footage, body doubles, and creative editing.
That said, while I was sincerely thrilled to see one particular Marvel TV show get so much love, it was disappointing to see every other TV show get neglected. The Netflix shows and everything to do with the Inhumans are all but officially non-canon at this point; a pitiful waste of all the time, money, talent, effort, and fan goodwill put into those shows.
Getting back to the time travel, there’s no getting around how inherently messy it is. While the filmmakers put in a noble try at hand-waving everything away, a few niggling plot threads continue to linger. Like, for example, the tiny little issue that the Avengers have a freaking time machine and there’s nothing to keep them from using it ever again for any reason! It’s deeply frustrating how so many plot holes and paradoxes could have been fixed with just a few simple tweaks. But instead, I’m pretty sure the entire Guardians of the Galaxy franchise has been thoroughly fucked beyond all hope of repair at this point.
On a similar subject, there’s the matter of who lives, who dies, who gets brought back, etc. My favorite example concerns two characters who get into this huge debate over which of them should be the one to sacrifice their life in some heroic fashion. While the scene itself is utterly marvelous and gripping from start to finish, it ends with the wrong one dying. Sorry, but it’s true — there’s every reason why it should’ve gone the other way.
That said, there are quite a few deaths in this movie we’re explicitly told are for keeps. They’re perma-dead this time. For realsies. No takebacks. Even though we know for a certainty that some of them have movies or TV shows in active development. And also, again, we’re dealing with time travel here — no matter how many times the characters continue to swear there’s no chance at all of taking it back, we can plainly see for ourselves that’s bullshit.
Last but not least, this movie is dogged by the unavoidable fact that… well, it’s a Marvel crossover. So much of what makes this movie so impossibly good is in how it builds on and pays off so many years of established history. So if you’re not completely up to date on all of this history, if you haven’t seen every Marvel film and sat through every end-credits stinger, then why the hell would you even buy a ticket for this one? You should already know it’s not for you.
What all of this adds up to is that Avengers: Endgame — for better and for worse — is the ultimate Marvel crossover. Never in the recorded past or foreseeable future will anyone ever find a film of such impossibly huge scale, so perfectly and specifically crafted to thrill and amaze franchise fans. So if you’re not a franchise fan, and if you’re not willing to forgive a few glaring plot holes about time travel, this movie was never built for you.
Even so, you should absolutely give it a chance. If only because nobody — not even Marvel themselves, in all probability — could possibly deliver spectacle on this scale again. This is a cinematic experience unlike any other in history, and that should be enough reason to go see this ASAP.
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Movie Curiosities: Captain Marvel
March 11, 2019 in Blogs, Curiosity Inc.
Marvel set themselves up for this.
When half of all life got snapped out of existence and Fury made that distress call, it sent the unmistakable message that Captain Marvel (Brie Larson) would somehow be the key to beating Thanos and saving the universe. Thus she would play a pivotal role in the movie that this whole damn superfranchise had been leading up to, and may therefore be a crucial factor in deciding where the MCU goes next. Moreover, this was Marvel’s first female-led picture in a time when profitable, iconic, critically successful, and… well, good female-driven superhero films are all the rage.
The message was clear: Captain Marvel would be the savior of the MCU. The character and her namesake movie would be the future of Marvel, lighting the way to the future of the studio, the MCU, and superhero cinema as a whole. Looking back, I think we all should’ve known what that meant we’d be getting. After a solid decade of watching and dissecting these movies every which way, you’d think we’d know the playbook by now.
To be clear, Captain Marvel — the movie and the character — are not bad by any means. Carol Danvers (or Vers, as she’s initially known) is quickly established as a stubborn smartassed hotshot whose first solution to everything is to charge in solo and blow something up. Trouble is, she’s an amnesiac fighting for the Kree side in the interplanetary Kree-Skrull War against an alien species of shapeshifters. Obviously, the shapeshifters are a deceptive bunch, but our heroine learns over the course of the plot that maybe her memories are unreliable and she may not have reason to trust the Kree either.
Carol is a soldier who always takes the simplest and most direct solution to any problem, learning how to sort through the moral ambiguities of war; even as she’s rebuilding her identity, sorting truth from lies, and deciding how much of her true history she wants to integrate into who she is moving forward. I’ve seen Larson earn an Oscar when she had less to work with. Also, the amnesia angle is a neat new spin on the threadbare “origin story” framework, and the filmmakers did a solid job of devising a new origin that’s faithful to the source material without looking like a Green Lantern ripoff.
(Side note: Hal Jordan made his debut as the Green Lantern in 1959. Carol Danvers’ origin story as Ms. Marvel was first published in 1968. So yes, it is entirely possible that the brain trust at Marvel ripped off the iconic Green Lantern origin story for this air force pilot who crashed her plane and got powers from an alien.)
What’s even better is how Carol has been weighed down by the system without even knowing it. Everyone from Carol’s commanding officer (Yon-Rogg, played by Jude Law) to the Kree Supreme Intelligence (it’s a long story) tells her that all she needs to do is keep her emotions in check and she’ll succeed. The Kree are working to mold her identity and keep her full potential in check, a nicely coded feminist allegory for any woman who ever had to act more masculine to fit in. The subtle execution of that is brilliant, dovetailing beautifully with Captain Marvel’s choices and actions and breakthroughs over the course of the plot.
That said, there’s a significant drawback: We already know that this character is destined to be a force great enough to take on goddamn Thanos. The guy who already beat all the Avengers put together, plus Wakanda, and the entire Asgardian race, and the Xandarians, and God knows who else. And then he wiped out half of all life on the universe.
The movie has to show us and prove to us that Captain Marvel really is powerful enough to plausibly defeat such a cosmic-level threat. And it succeeds beautifully. The drawback is that once she shows that level of power, the movie’s basically over. That’s it. There is nothing this movie could possibly throw at her that has even a remote chance at taking her down. Takes a lot of wind out of the climax, is all I’m saying.
Larson does well enough with the material, and she’s surrounded on all sides by capable performers. Ben Mendelsohn turns his typical villain schtick on its ear, and with fascinating results. Jude Law has more than enough charm and authority to make his character work. And we’ve also got Annette Bening, who… um… well, she got a paycheck, I guess. Good for her.
Elsewhere, we have Maria Rambeau and her daughter (respectively played by Lashana Lynch and Akira Akbar) bringing the picture some much-needed heart as the best friends who help Carol rediscover her humanity. For comic relief, we have Goose, known as Chewie in the comics. And if you know anything about this character from the source material… well, I don’t think you’ll be disappointed, we’ll put it that way. I have no idea where Goose came from or how he got here, but I think we’re all glad that he’s here.
Samuel L. Jackson is apparently having the time of his life, playing young Nick Fury as Captain Marvel’s new sidekick (also, his introduction to the Kree-Skrull war was ingeniously handled). Clark Gregg is sadly underutilized as a young Phil Coulson, but it’s still a nice throwback to when the character was an unflappable cipher. We’ve also got Djimon Hounsou and Lee Pace reprising their one-dimensional roles from Guardians of the Galaxy. They’re still one-dimensional in this movie, to be clear, but at least we get to see them as overzealous pawns in a vicious and bloody war, providing some welcome context to explain why these characters are so one-dimensional.
Oh, and by the way, that CGI de-aging process is officially perfected. Gregg and Jackson both went through an entire movie as their younger selves and they looked flawless from start to finish. I wish I could say the same for Goose and Captain Marvel — they both got CGI doubles that looked pretty sketchy at times.
To recap: We’ve got a beautifully uplifting and empowering origin story for a strong female protagonist. We’ve got solid ties to the existing MCU. We’ve got a premise that opens up the MCU in a big way, significantly fleshing out two alien species and the long, bloody war between them. We’ve got a cast full of proven and solid talents.
All the ingredients are here, and they’re all good. And yet somehow, they don’t quite mesh together.
My first instinct was to blame the writing/directing team of husband/wife duo Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck, both previously known for smaller and more personal fare like It’s Kind of a Funny Story. While unorthodox directing hires can and have worked in the past, it’s patently obvious from the outset that these two were in way over their heads here. The fight scenes look like they were edited with a food processor, which is proof enough that these two had no business directing any kind of blockbuster action movie.
But that brings me to the next big problem: What genre are we dealing with here? One of Marvel’s biggest innovations has been its successful blend of superhero cinema with other genres, giving us a spy thriller (Captain America: The Winter Soldier), a heist thriller (the first Ant-Man movie), a screwball comedy (the second Ant-Man movie), high school dramedies (Spider-Man: Homecoming and its sequel), etc. Alternatively, we have movies like Doctor Strange (with its trippy and psychedelic visuals), Black Panther (with its strong and powerful Wakandan aesthetic), Guardians of the Galaxy (irreverent misfit underdogs kicking ass and cracking wise to a classic rock soundtrack), and so on.
By contrast, Captain Marvel has so many plot threads going on at once, switching between them with such frequency, I honestly couldn’t tell you what genre it is. Moreover, neither of the alien species is prominent enough for their aesthetic to define the film, and the ’90s setting on Earth — aside from a couple of sight gags and soundtrack choices — contributes nothing. There’s also the fact that Brie Larson — for all her talent and effort — is simply not a towering force of personality on the level of RDJ’s Stark or any of the Guardians. She’s good, but not good enough to define an entire movie with her presence alone.
Yes, this is a movie with a strong female lead, but this superfranchise has already given us Black Widow, Maria Hill, Gamora, Hope Van Dyne, and Agent Peggy Motherfucking Carter. A female lead getting front and center in her own namesake movie is good and all, but that’s still not enough to make it truly unique. Without a powerhouse main character, a clearly identifiable genre, a new and consistent aesthetic, or even a memorable main theme, there’s nothing to give this movie any sense of identity or personality.
And as a reminder, this is a movie in which the villains are shapeshifting aliens, whatever we think we know by way of the protagonist’s amnesia could be disproven at any time, and allegiances can switch without warning. By its very nature, this movie needed a solid director with a consistent vision to keep the plot from getting too squirrelly, and the absence of such a director is keenly felt.
With all of that said, this movie does a fantastic job of setting up Captain Marvel, the Kree, the Skrulls, and potentially other elements that could be useful in other movies and under more competent direction. And therein lies the rub.
As a movie on its own merit, it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. As a checklist of things to introduce and establish for future movies and the greater MCU, it makes a lot of sense. This is a housekeeping movie, the kind that Marvel occasionally makes to open up the MCU and lay the groundwork for future installments.
Iron Man 2 is probably the most infamous example, but Captain America: Civil War also comes to mind. That said, Iron Man 2 had a distinct advantage in that it was a sequel, with a cast and crew that already had the experience of making one movie and a property that the audience was already familiar with. Civil War had even more established history to pull from, plus the genuinely compelling question of where each hero came down on the dilemma of freedom versus security.
Captain Marvel didn’t have any of those advantages, yet it still managed to be more entertaining and fulfilling than Iron Man 2. Of course, it doesn’t have anything so entertaining or instantly iconic as the airport battle royale in Civil War, but that was never in the cards for this movie.
(Side note: I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the late Stan Lee. He does indeed get a cameo appearance here, playing himself in a neat little throwback to his many cameo appearances outside Marvel. And of course there’s the pre-credits tribute that Marvel put together — I’m sure somebody had a lot of fun putting that together when they weren’t crying their eyes out.)
I’ll gladly admit that I had fun with Captain Marvel, but it works far more effectively as a part of the greater MCU, rather than a movie on its own. There are so many disparate elements in here (Captain Marvel herself, the Kree, the Skrulls, etc.) that are good, and I look forward to seeing them better developed in future movies, but they’re not great enough to make a compelling or memorable film here and now. I want to say that the movie needed a better director — and to be clear, Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck were the wrong choices to make this picture — but I honestly don’t know who could’ve taken this same checklist and made a better picture out of it. Maybe the Russo Brothers, if they weren’t so busy elsewhere.
I saw this movie in 2D IMAX, and I strongly advise you to not waste your money on the premiums. By all means, go see the movie and have a good time, but keep your expectations in check.
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