The first Lego movie had the element of surprise and uniqueness going for it. The last 20 minutes of the film, especially, helped set it apart. But that aspect now revealed, left writers Lord and Miller (Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse) with a challenge that the humor and approach just couldn’t manage to overcome when revisiting the world. The first movie was funny, but relied on those final moments to make it something special.
This literal continuation of the tale, starting from the final moments of the first, just isn’t nearly as clever or interesting. It is too forced and not nearly as funny because it is obvious. Director Mike Mitchell (Trolls) just couldn’t find something new, though it has its moments.
One of those moments is the end credits, which are both visually impressive and, at least for the first minute or so, a wonderfully self-conscious plea to watch them. But the rest of the movie was fine for kids, obvious for adults, and more or less a retread of the first. You’ll have to decide if there’s enough there for you to see that again…for me, I’d have been fine if I’d never gotten around to this somewhat empty sequel.
Nicole Kidman (Aquaman) delivers a devastatingly broken-but-not-down detective, evoking more Charlize Theron than the characters we’ve come to expect from her. She is ugly, both mentally and physically; an anti-hero extraordinaire. Intense and gripping, but with the smallest bit of sympathy to keep us on her side.
Kidman navigates the world, past and present, with the help of a great supporting cast. Toby Kebbell (The Female Brain), Sebastian Stan (I, Tonya, Avengers), and Bradley Whitford (The Darkest Minds) chief among them. And then there was the otherwise unrecognizable Tatiana Maslany (Orphan Black). If it weren’t for the credits, I wouldn’t even have spotted her, and it wasn’t for lack of screen time.
Better known for her television work, director Karyn Kusama (Girlfight) is no stranger to female driven tales. In this case, however, she tries just a little too hard to maintain the atmosphere. The music is heavy-handed and the pacing just a tad strained at moments. But she does manage to create a dark, dark tale… a daylight noir in the harsh LA sun that drives forward relentlessly as flashbacks fill in the history. Oft-time writing collaborators Phil Hay and Matt Manfredi (R.I.P.D.) gave Kusuma a well constructed script to work with, but it is Kidman’s and Kusuma’s molding and delivery of that tale that makes it work.
Make time for this one when you’re in a mood for a bit of violence and mystery. The performances make it worth it alone, but the story is, itself, a good ride.
It is really impossible to talk about either of these shows without referencing the other. They are both reactions to the previous decades of Trek and are being run by competing ex-Trek production staff with (clearly) different visions. Their first seasons established unique directions and sensibilities from what we knew as Trek and from each other. However, both Discovery and Orville somewhat lost their way in their second series. Oddly, while at opposite ends of the spectrum (dark action vs satire), they both moved more centrist. In doing so, they both lost their edge and uniqueness but never quite gained the chops to carry off their more standard action/adventure sf intentions. And what makes them even more comparable again is that they tackled similar uber-arcs to their seasons, which I won’t discuss, but certainly stood out for me.
Let’s start with the official franchise. Discovery has drifted slowly and deliberately from its very bleak prequel universe. That darkness had really set it apart from previous series and allowed for some good characters, all of whom have now become somewhat bland. Worse, the move for the series was from a female dominated to a male dominated one; very disappointing. Sonequa Martin-Green (The Walking Dead) is still the focus of stories, but she has taken a backseat to new arrival Anson Mount’s (Inhumans) Pike and other men on board rather than being the main driver of the action and plots. Her Vulcan-ness has likewise diminished, though I can see an argument for that choice. There was a drive for the first several episodes to inject wry humor to balance the sturm und drang, but it was often tossed off and felt forced, or simply got lost amidst more important information. Eventually, they just gave up. Basically, it has become more standard Trek and less something unique. In fact, in some ways this season as a whole could simply be titled The Search for Spock.
I have to admit, I had trouble letting go of the dark roots of Discovery’s first season’s going into the next iteration. And make no mistake, season two is a whole different animal. In some ways I love the tight banter and wry humor, even if the audio mix often made it challenging to hear clearly. I like that they didn’t just forget season one, but grew on it, even though they remade the show entirely and left a lot of what made it something new, something not standard Trek, behind. Bryan Fuller’s vision for Discovery was refreshing for me. Even if he didn’t get to see it through, you could feel him in the bones of season one.
And then there was the season finale, which was unforgivable. Loaded with, and led to by, stupid choices and bad writing. It also had a critical element only from the Short Treks, which I’d not seen. The frustration is that if you’re going to make something an integral element of the season, it should be part of the season. Otherwise, it is fine to have nods and gifts from the other material (SHEILD and others have done this), but nothing core as not everyone would have the information necessary.
I will grant that the scope of the season, in terms of the overall plot and ongoing arcs, was impressive and gripping. It managed to be somewhat episodic and still have a much larger story pulling it along. But as a rehash of Enterprise’s failed attempt at the same idea it is full of the same kinds of plot holes and issues. It also took a stab at the now standard trope of revisiting the original series that began with the Tribbles episode in DS9; but they didn’t manage it effectively or with any real emotional weight.
But worse, depending on how they resolve the finale in the next season, the reset of the universe was more than a little cheap and frustrating (both in choice and method). I don’t quite know how they follow up this season in a satisfying way…but they have succeeded in bringing what was a brave new show back to the well-trod Trek center, and making it a lot less interesting.
The Orville has swung in from the opposite direction, trying to become more Trek and less satire of that genre. It essentially gave up what made it unique and left us with middling writing and lackluster plots for most of the season. However, a lot of that middling slog was worth it to get to Menosky’s Sanctuary, which picks up the Moclan tale from season one (Ja’loja) in earnest. It is loaded with guest stars and great moments and hits the exact balance of honest and satire that made the first season so much fun. It is also one of the few MacFarlane didn’t write this Sophomore season.
The final few episodes of the Orville season redeem it…right up through the finale. I am hoping that it indicates a recognition of where they drifted from their mission and that they will return renewed and refocused. Orville may never have been great, but it was entertaining and a good escape. Sure it catered to the geek crowd, especially in its humor, but it had potential. Making the Trek-like universe something a bit more realistic instead of aspirational in its society is not only a rising trend in the written genre, but a hunger in the audience who are tired of the sanitized worlds that had been on offer for decades.
Yes, I will be back for both of these shows, assuming both are back. Only Discovery is officially renewed as of this writing. There is potential in both and both shows have a willingness to take chances and change. I just hope they learned the right lessons from this past year.
Who would have thought, watching that first tag at the end of Iron Man 11 years and 22 films ago, that today we’d be here? Talk about delayed gratification.
I didn’t rewatch all the films again, but I did rewatch all of Phase 3 in prep. Still an amazing trip. Thor is certainly the odd one out in flavor and Black Panther is still not my favorite (though its resonance has changed for me again in the last year with our own political mess), but as a whole the sequence continues the huge landscape and story. It has to be said, though he left after Age of Ultron, the success and structure of this audacious and incredible ride owes a huge amount to Joss Whedon’s grand vision of architecture.
And that is where this movie shines. Christopher Markus
and Stephen McFeely, writers of the entire Captain America sequence and Infinity War, landed this saga beautifully. It is a tight three acts loaded with humor and drama, and the biggest sequences since The Hobbit or Dunkirk in terms of battles. The Russos did a great job directing it all, never losing the pacing nor the sensibility of the characters. I can’t recall the last time an audience had so much spontaneous applause and tears.
Despite being over three hours, the movie doesn’t feel long at all. Every character gets their moments and resolutions and nothing is easy. And even the forced moments work because you want them to be there. Markus and McFeely also, almost, manage to get out of it all without a paradox, gap, or gaff. Just don’t pick at it too much, there was no way to avoid some of the issues they ran into. If there is any real ding on Endgame as a film, it is that it doesn’t and can’t stand on its own. Without the lead up (forgetting even the Infinity War cliffhanger) it would be obvious something is going on, but not what. That isn’t a bad thing for a finale, it just is being honest.
Anticipation couldn’t have been much higher for this movie, which concludes the emotional and character arc of Phase 3 of the MCU for so many characters and marks a change in direction for the stories. What that change will be remains to be seen in the official end to the Phase in Spider-Man: Far From Home. It has been floated that the overarching stories aren’t going to continue, though some characters are getting series on Disney+. I have to say, I am worried that they cannot sustain the franchise with that approach and thinking. It shows a lack of comprehension of what made the last 11 years one of the grandest adventures and experiments in movies.
I did see Endgame in IMAX 3D for this first go-round. It was worth it. The story is huge and gorgeously shot. The 3D is subtle rather than cheap most of the time. Most of the f/x are seamless, though some of the Hulk’s moments are a little threadbare. But definitely the way to go with this movie, at least once. Now, get yourself out there and see it before you get the story spoiled. You’ll only get to experience it once without knowledge, enjoy the surprises. And while there are video tags during the credits, there is an audio tag that is causing much discussion and little confirmation as to the meaning.
When Joe Cornish (Attack the Block) took on the Arthur legend, the hope was for something like Excalibur by way of Time Bandits. And while there are slight nods to both, it is really more just a solid kid’s film with some humor and light action, but none of the dark, satyric edge of his previous effort. This may not have been the film anticipated, but in some ways it is the right movie for the right audience now. And, certainly, it is a better reconception than the other recent Arthur movie.
Louis Ashbourne Serkis (Alice Through the Looking Glass) is nicely earnest in the lead, if a little lacking in levels. And his gang of knights, Dean Chaumoo, Rhianna Dorris, and Tom Taylor (Dark Tower), all turn in similarly appropriate performances for the feel of the tale.
In truth, though, Angus Imrie (Kingdom) and Patrick Stewart (Logan) steal whatever thunder there is to steal. Imrie’s performance is unselfconsciously weird and Stewart gets to play it up as well.
Denise Gough (Colette), as Serkis’s mother is suitably mother-like without being too smarmy. While Rebecca Ferguson (Mission: Impossible: Fallout) never really gets to stretch her wings as the big bad. She spends the entire film in a harsh whisper that is promising and foreboding, but never really comes off as entirely threatening.
But the tale itself is only part of the story here. Sure, there is adventure and action and humor, to a degree. But the message, just like the book it mirrors, is the real point. And in today’s world, perhaps that is more appropriate. I did enjoy myself through the two hour jaunt. It isn’t a simple film, fortunately, taking some pains to have some bits of reality, but neither is it really aimed at adults. So go in for the mindless fun or to share with a tween of your choosing. I think Cornish is capable of much more and much better…especially if let off his leash. The result here smacks of a studio panicking and forcing him to scale back from the very sensibility that probably landed him the job.
I made every effort to go into this remake with an open mind. But, I admit, it wasn’t easy. I happen to love Guillermo Del Toro’s work, whether it is fantastical love stories like Shape of Water, Keiju madness like Pacific Rim, Gothic horror like Crimson Peak, or the comic book, wry insanity of Hellboy. In other words, this reboot had a long row to hoe for me…especially as we never (and will likely never) get the completion of Del Toro’s trilogy of the character. Add to this that Ron Perlman made Hellboy his so completely that David Harbour (Stranger Things) was at a double disadvantage.
To be honest, Harbour does fine as a younger version of Perlman’s Hellboy…except that isn’t the story that is being told. The root of the story isn’t horrible, however ham-handedly constructed. But for some insane reason Andrew Cosby (Eureka), rather than write a prequel or some kind of sequel, decided to rehash and rewrite the origin story Del Toro had already put on screen. That alone ate up about 20 minutes or more of the screen time. And the structure of the movie is weak as well. Cosby’s lack of skill had him telling huge chunks of the story in flashback because he couldn’t find a way to put the information into the current time frame of the movie. Flashbacks are useful tools, but they are also the fallback for a lazy writer. Director Neil Marshall (Doomsday) does what he can with the junk tale, but is as much at fault for accepting the script in the first place.
But flashbacks are only part of the problem. The movie has no heart and no real relationships. It has fight scenes and blood. Allowing or assuming that action can replace character work is a huge error. Del Toro’s movies had plenty of action (though a LOT less gore) but were very much about the people. This story gives us no connection, no purchase, and very little appreciation of the relationships.
So, in short, skip this. It doesn’t deserve your time. Go back to the original or even just the comics. Frankly, there are just better ways to spend a couple hours, despite any earnest attempts by the cast to spin gold from moldy flax.
As his first feature directing and co-writing (with Luke Matheny) Rob Meyer put together a sweet coming-of-age tale. It isn’t particularly better than many others of its genre, but it is certainly enjoyable and has some very good moments and humor.
The story centers around Kodi Smit-McPhee (X-Men: Apocalypse) and his struggle with his father and soon-to-be step-mother. The parents are played nicely by Daniela Lavender (Learning to Drive) and James LeGros (Nostalgia) but the script doesn’t really help them much. The situation and conversations are a little forced, and the parenting skills suspect, at best.
Smit-McPhee is joined by a motley collection of, well, nerds. Alex Wolff (Hereditary) and Katie Chang get some nice stories of their own. While Michael Chen is little more than a sad cliche.
The best, smaller role is unsurprisingly brought in by Ben Kingsley (The Jungle Book). Kingsley, with barely 5 minutes on screen, puts together the most memorable character of the film.
When this released in 2013, it was more unique and interesting. But a lot has happened in the intervening years. The world is more stressed and the expectations for films about young love have shifted. But, while it may not be best in class, it is certainly 90 minutes well spent. You won’t be sorry you got to know these characters, but it isn’t a movie you’re likely to come back to again.
No, the genius of Pose is that it treats its characters as normal; that you cannot help but see them as they see themselves, especially the women. In particular Mj Rodriguez and Indya Moore, from Saturday Church, and Dominique Jackson whose stories dominate the eight episodes. But there are rooms-full of these incredible women struggling for recognition, in every way you can define that.
But it isn’t just about the women. Billy Porter (American Horror Story) brings an energy as MC to the Balls and to the series. He navigates his own complicated tale and manages to draw on his wide variety of talents. Newcomer Ryan Jamaal Swain delivers a sweet and vibrant ball of hope to story while his dance teacher, Charlayne Woodard (Glass), provides some additional outside perspective.
The other contributing factor to the genius of Pose is that it also manages to bring the late-80s period piece into current political and cultural relevance with the parallel storylines of Evan Peters (American Animals), Kate Mara (Morgan), and James Van Der Beek (Downsizing). The reflections and tangling of the two worlds offers surprises and insights as well as a few dark laughs.
Ryan Murphy’s breadth of genre and his ability to make them each so personal, be it high school, horror, or history, continues to surprise and find success. Pose isn’t perfect. It is a tad arch, which isn’t surprising, and some of the actors are natural, but a little untried. But the overall impact and journey is surprisingly effective and avoids feeling exploitative or in any way disingenuous.
You can see the dark edges of Tim Burton (Miss Peregrine’s School for Peculiar Children) in the production design and the plot of the first act of Dumbo, but not his trademark sense of wonder and magic. The movie, as a whole, has a lack of focus in tone and a lack of characters. Given the potential of some of the clever updates to the story, the result is surprising.
In their first roles, Nico Parker, as a bright young woman who drives the story in the stead of the mice from the Disney cartoon, and Finley Hobbins as her brother are solid, but flat. Even Colin Farrell (Widows), Eva Green (Miss Peregrine’s School for Peculiar Children), and Danny DeVito (Smallfoot), all with solid foundations in the story, were left without much development or payoff. DeVito, in particular, has rich potential, but was left to be just a clown. Michael Keaton (American Assassin)never moves beyond being a simple black hat with no depth at all. And Alan Arkin (Going in Style) was just a throw-away.
Adaptations are just hard. Fighting everyone’s memory of an original while trying to create something new is challenging at best. Dumbo was due an update to leave its problematic issues behind and bring it into the modern world. It is a great tale of believing in yourself and family. And there are interesting new choices in this telling of the tale, but they just aren’t fully explored. Ehren Kruger’s (Ghost in the Shell) script is devoid of real challenges and resolutions for the human characters. Everything is either too easy or too assumed. The reality is that a flying elephant isn’t magical on its own, it has to become magical… romance doesn’t just happen, it has to be earned… families don’t heal on their own, you have to work at it. And even Dumbo’s challenges all seem too easily resolved, not to mention that his understanding of the world is inconsistent and seemingly omniscient at times.
I will say that Burton’s dark take on Disney World is delightfully subversive and ironic, but it doesn’t make up for the missing magic in the movie. What is left is a somewhat entertaining, though surprisingly surfacey story that never reaches the heights it should have, but isn’t entirely without entertainment or merit, it just isn’t a new classic. As always, Burton’s designs are best on a big screen, but this is a somewhat neutered fantasy that will play better to younger audiences than adults and that won’t survive the ravages of time.
On the surface, this is a small and personal tale of love and family. But it is, of course, much more than that. It is also, in its way, a modern day Color Purple, exposing social injustice on an intimate level, making it impossible to ignore or pretend to not understand. In some ways, the social injustice reflections are intrusive and jarring, much like portions of BlacKkKlansman, but in other ways it’s like having a friend explain their point of view and experience in a very real way.
Much like Barry Jenkin’s previous Moonlight, this is as much a poem as it is a story. It is told in small vignettes across two timelines. We see the start of the relationship between Stephan James (Selma) and KiKi Layne reflected against the ultimate resolution of it. It is a beautiful story full of unexpected moments and passion. It is a tale about what makes family and how family makes us. The young pair are magnetic and we can recognize our own passions in them even if we’ve outgrown some of the intensity.
Regina King is as solid as her golden statuette for the role suggests. She and the rest of the cast tend to surprise in their reactions to the world and one another. Teyonah Parris (Chi-Raq) and Colman Domingo (Assassination Nation) complete Layne’s immediate family, who are fiercely supportive of one another. There is certainly strife, but it is clear from the outset how they can pull together.
There a number of important characters in smaller roles. Among them are a barely recognizable Ed Skrein (Tau), leveraging his trademark nasty streak and Finn Wittrock (La La Land) at the other end of that spectrum as examples.
After Moonlight, all eyes were on Barry Jenkins to deliver. With over 150 awards nominations, including 3 Oscar nods and a win, you could say he succeeded at least on some level. But whether this is a good movie or not is going to be a matter of personal taste. it is laconic in its narrative. It is intense in its emotions. It is preachy at times in its message. But it is effective and affecting not to mention beautifully filmed and directed.
Along with other recent films like The Hate U Give, Dope, Straight Outta Compton, or even Selma, 13th, and Hidden Figures, Beale Street gives us a view of America that has been long avoided but that is now starting to make its way into the mainstream. What we, as a society, do with that awareness is the next big question.
Art, writing, life explained… or at least commented upon…