Spoilers!

Juuuust kidding. There’s nothing to spoil here, because Michael doesn’t take a single risk, nor does it reveal anything you couldn’t find in a children’s book about the King of Pop. What it does have is the musical artist biopic formula down to a tee, but not in a Walk The Line kind of way.

No, this is set squarely in the Bohemian Rhapsody cinematic universe of musical films, which makes sense as it’s also produced by Graham King. It even has a gratuitous Mike Myers cameo as a record producer. But, what the hell, the last time they applied the formula, they took home an Oscar for Best Picture, so what do I know?

Like Bohemian Rhapsody or, well, any biopic rated PG-13, Michael assumes that the audience already knows the whole story and, given that, doesn’t need to know the why or how behind character motivations, desires, or actions, let alone anything too nuanced or deep about what makes these people tick. You just need to sit back, enjoy the recreation of a music icon’s best performances, and get on with your day.

Directed by Antoine Fuqua (Training Day, The Equalizer) with pure music video style, which is what put him on the map early on with his debut, The Replacement Killers, Michael is less of a movie than a concert film. There’s not a whole lot of movie in there, really, as it’s mostly extended musical performances and more montages than a Rocky film, interspersed with empty dialogue scenes to string it together.

The script by John Logan, writer of such films as Gladiator, Skyfall, and The Aviator, really did not have his work cut out for him here, as there wasn’t much work to do. Most dialogue scenes are under three minutes and lead right into a song or dance number, leaving very little to, y’know, write. It’s the equivalent of an after-school special in terms of drama, and if you’re expecting to get into anyone’s head beyond a “I want money, fortune, and fame,” then you’re heading into the wrong movie.

Jafaar Jackson, the nephew of the real Michael Jackson (son of Jermaine Jackson), absolutely shines playing his late uncle. He’s so good that you have to wonder if they’ve been preparing him for this moment his whole life. Some shots linger on him where you can barely make out that it’s an actor and not the real Michael Jackson. In terms of the voice, dance skills, and performances, Jafaar does his uncle proud and deserves his kudos for it. He is by far the true star of the film, which is how it should be.

Coleman Domingo is painted as the film’s villain, playing Michael Jackson’s father, Joseph Jackson, who comes off more as a caricature than a person, which one could argue is exactly how the real man was, but it feels cartoonish in the film, right down to the stereotypical villain laugh. Domingo is a great actor, but the script just doesn’t give him anything to work with. Sure, he’s abusive, controlling, and power hungry, but in the most vanilla, PG-13 ways possible. Likely, the real-life version carries more weight, but the big-screen version does not and robs us of any real, in-depth drama.

So, let’s address the elephant in the room, which is what most folks are curious about: Michael Jackson’s controversial private life, including his relationship with young boys and their families, covered extensively in the docu-series Leaving Neverland, which showcases a world nobody wants to see or hear about, but exists nonetheless. We can argue the motive and fallout of Jackson’s personal and sexual life nonstop (and many won’t hear one side or another), but the bottom line is that it was a part of his life and a huge one at that. To outright ignore it makes this whole thing selective storytelling, not a true-to-life biopic. The most they venture on Jackson’s sexuality in the film is to skirt around it completely, saying only that he was always “different”. It’s otherwise ignored in every way possible.

Jackson’s daughter, Paris, has said that, "The film panders to a very specific section of my dad’s fandom that still lives in a fantasy, and they’re gonna be happy with it." While she wasn’t involved with the film at all, having read an early draft and expressing her discontent with it, the list of executive producers really tells you all you need to know about how accurate Michael is to the real person.

Not only are the original Jackson 5 listed as executive producers on the film, but so too is Jackson’s son, Prince, as well as the Jackson Estate trustees and executors, John Blanca and John McClaine. Blanca is even portrayed in the film by actor Miles Teller.

While it’s not uncommon and frequently helpful to have those who were part of a story to be involved in retelling it, there’s also a level of compromise and bias that comes with that, as they have more to lose when it comes to revealing uncomfortable truths. Do with that what you will, but it bears acknowledging.

Of course, it’s fair to say, “I don’t want all these damn facts, I want to know what you thought of the movie as a movie.” But we’re not watching a fictional account here (presumably). This is a biopic, and it’s natural to want to know what really happened. From Schindler’s List to Ray to Raging Bull to Malcolm X, these true-life stories frequently condense, omit, or alter the real story to fit a timeframe or narrative, and can also be compromised by bias, particularly when those funding the film are involved.

It’s important to have that perspective when evaluating a movie based on real life, because it lets you know just how much you may or may not be being lied to. If I’m watching Terminator 2: Judgment Day, then I could give a shit. Lie away. But, if it’s a true story, then I want to know if the T-800 really gave a thumbs up before he dipped into the lava pit, as well as whether or not Sarah Conner was a hero trying to save mankind, or actually a delusional mental patient.

So, is Michael entertaining? Sure. Of course. On a cinematic, concert movie level, it’s like watching a greatest hits of Michael Jackson. If you’ve ever liked his music, you’ll likely be singing it on the way home from the theater. Regardless of his personal life, Jackson was an extremely gifted singer and performer. That’s not in dispute, and the movie leans completely into that aspect of his life, while also showing him visit sick kids in the hospital, reading books to his many exotic pets, and watching old movies with his mom. If you think you’re going to learn anything more about the man, think again, because that’s as deep as it goes.

The film ends on a cliffhanger of sorts, which outright dodges the controversy that awaited him. After completing his final tour with his brothers, Jackson breaks free of his controlling father/manager and goes on the Bad Tour, ending at the peak of his career, flashing “The story continues,” before cutting to black.

The film never confronts Jackson’s legacy, but sidesteps it. What we get is a polished, sugar-coated, after-school special tribute concert film that protects the myth while avoiding the complexity that followed.

It may as well be called Saint Michael, rather than Michael.

Many will argue that this is all they wanted out of a Michael Jackson movie, and if that’s the case, so be it. The music, the dancing, the talent, and the magic are there. The man isn’t. And it ends not where the story finishes, but where it becomes inconvenient.

Before we jump into the review, I kindly ask that you subscribe to my page (free or paid), so you can be notified of new content (which is fairly sporadic) and help support my writing and creative works. This fall, I will be releasing an autobiography about my days in online film journalism (working for JoBlo and Screen Rant), which will only be available to paid subscribers and updated regularly (likely, weekly, but TBD) in chapters, before going to print.

Aside from that, you can always look forward to reviews and essays for free subscribers.

Subscribe now

The Steps to First Steps

Marvel’s first family, originally introduced in the pages of Marvel Comics in 1961, was created by Jack Kirby and Stan Lee, both of whom receive onscreen title credit in the new film. This has become an important gesture of late, especially considering the legal disputes Kirby’s estate has had with Marvel, and comic creators frequently being ignored, insulted, or patronized over the work they created that’s now a cash cow for big corporations like Disney and Marvel Studios.

The Kirby estate eventually settled with Marvel before their case was to be considered by the Supreme Court, ending the longstanding battle, which now serves as a lesson for creators when working for anyone but themselves in terms of understanding what their rights (and copyrights) are. There’s a lot more to unpack with that case, which I won’t do here, but you can dive as deep as you desire starting here.

It’s an important distinction, however, as Kirby and Lee’s creations have been around a long time and are deeply rooted in Marvel lore, much of which created the powerhouse that is the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Fox owned the rights to the Fantastic Four characters for many years, producing three feature films of the characters, including 2005’s Fantastic Four, 2007’s Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer, and the much-maligned 2015 reboot from director Josh Trank (not to mention the low-budget 1994 version that was never officially released), which seemed to cement the property in limbo after it’s box office failure, until the Disney purchase of Fox unfroze it from cinematic carbonite.

Still, that deal was made in 2017 (closed in 2019), with the MCU already in full swing and closing out its Infinity Saga with Avengers: Endgame, so the window of “retro-introducing” the FF at that time in any viable way had well passed. Now, with all the Fox properties in Disney’s court, including the cash cow of the X-Men properties (already exercised in the MCU with the massive win of Deadpool and Wolverine in 2024), these acquired properties can be (hopefully) properly brought into the fold.

It’s no secret that the MCU has struggled to find its footing post-Endgame, with Phases Four and Five failing to bring the excitement and box office that prior entries did (with a few exceptions, including the aforementioned Deadpool and Wolverine, and Spider-Man: No Way Home). Coupled with the lackluster performance and reception of Marvel’s Disney+ shows, things have been rocky, to say the least, and 2025 has not been kind to the brand.

Captain America: Brave New World was an abysmal failure on multiple levels (even with the great Harrison Ford involved), while Thunderbolts/The New Avengers played like a half-assed, condensed episode of a Marvel show. Both films are the lowest-grossing of the MCU filmography to date. So, the question on everyone’s mind is whether the MCU can pull itself back, or if the downward spiral will continue with the (re)introduction of Marvel’s first family, before unleashing their Hail Mary that is next year’s Avengers: Doomsday (as well as a fourth Spider-Man entry, Spider-Man: Brand New Day).

So, is it Fantastic or isn’t it?

That’s what you’re here for, and here’s the straight shot: The Fantastic Four: First Steps is most certainly a step in the right direction, but is it fantastic? Not exactly, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t an entertaining ride, which it certainly is.

It’s a polished piece of MCU filmmaking, which takes some bold risks while paying proper homage to its creators and its roots. Setting it in Earth-828, an alternate universe that steps away from all the previous Marvel projects (Earth-616), could either be brilliant or could open Pandora’s Box of confusion and create a timeline devoid of stakes (folks are perplexed enough with projects like Loki, Ant-Man, and Deadpool and Wolverine etc., to even keep up anymore). That said, it does take some risks, while also staying in formula, creating a swing that may not be a homerun, but it gets some runners on base.

First, let’s talk about the cast, as they embody the biggest aspect of make or break for FF. I long championed John Krasinski as Mr. Fantastic/Reed Richards, who appeared as the character in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, a move that sparked fan debate over the casting of Pedro Pascal, who took over the role for the new film. While Krasinski didn’t have the opportunity to particularly shine in the part (which was admittedly fan-cast service), Pascal’s casting brings some baggage with it, particularly Pascal himself.

I have liked Pascal in a multitude of projects, including HBO’s The Last of Us, Game of Thrones, The Mandalorian, and the underappreciated The Great Wall with Matt Damon. The memes aren’t exactly off base in terms of his oversaturation. It does feel like he’s in everything at this point, which is great for him as an actor, but it can wear thin with viewers.

I’ve always imagined Reed Richards as a character that demanded a distinct voice and performance to emulate the smartest man in the Marvel Universe. Pascal’s casting just never felt right for that role, as he tends to play, well, Pedro Pascal. This can work beautifully in many instances, but it doesn’t play as well for FF. While he does just fine, he doesn’t elevate or define it, which I feel plays against the film overall. Unfortunately, the MCU has tied almost everyone up in one role or another at this point, so what can you do?

Pascal is fine, he’s just not great here. He comes off as mostly dour and mopey, when I felt he should be intensely focused, quirky, and humorous in a dry way, acting as a leader and father figure, rather than a genius who lacks self-confidence.

Similarly, I wasn’t fond of Joseph Quinn as Johnny Storm/Human Torch, but that may well be how he was written, which deviates from the flashy, funny, and cool version that Chris Evans embodied before becoming Captain America. Quinn is a fine actor, no doubt, but his Johnny Storm, like Pascal’s Richards, just didn’t have the “it” factor that makes Johnny Storm a distinct character. Sure, there’s a mention that he likes beautiful women, but we never see it outside of his attraction to Silver Surfer. Weirdly, he is shown to be more of a brainiac, taking over scenes that would’ve been better suited to Reed.

Again, much of that fault may lie in the script and not Quinn, but I feel like an actor with more flash could’ve risen above it. The attempt to differentiate Storm from being the media-loving glory seeker was a bit too obvious. If a character is typically that way, then why change it now?

The good news is that the rest of the cast is indeed fantastic. I’m a big fan of Ebon Moss-Bachrach, who is killing it on FX’s The Bear, and he’s pitch-perfect as Ben Grimm/The Thing, who has finally been realized in cinematic form appropriately. I love the old-school look that emulates Jack Kirby’s creation, and Bachrach brings a friendly, casual charm to the role without overdoing it one way or another. He’s the charisma of the film, without question.

The one who stands out the most, however, is Vanessa Kirby as Sue Storm, which is a part that gets frequently overlooked. Like Pascal, I wasn’t particularly enthused by her casting, as I felt it should be someone more girl-next-door, but Kirby brings a warmth, light, and maternal prowess to the part that caught me off guard. If Grimm is the charisma of the film, Sue is the heart.

This is where FF takes some even bolder swings, starting things off with Sue finding out she’s pregnant with her first child. This isn’t bold to the comics, as her son, Franklin Richards, first appeared in issue #6 of the comics (as a baby), so it aligns with his birth, but to some it may seem like something reserved for a sequel. But FF throws us right into the family drama, which mostly works, with all principals showing a bonded chemistry that comes together onscreen.

That’s an important factor, regardless of my critique’s over some of the casting. Regardless of that, they feel like a family in the film, and that’s a block that needed to be checked. Plus, they’re hard not to like as a cohesive unit. That’s essential to this dynamic.

The story revolves around Galactus, the much-loved planet-chewing cosmic villain that the MCU had yet to touch, until now. Fox only went so far as to have him appear as little more than a glowing cloud in Rise of the Silver Surfer, so that doesn’t count. Played by British-born Ralph Ineson, the casting is perfection here. Ineson’s voice is powerful as is, but his presence as the physical character adds the necessary presence needed for such a massive (literally) debut.

There was much debate over having a female Silver Surfer, but the character of Shalla-Bal is straight from the comics, so it’s a silly argument, and leaves plenty of room for Norrin Radd to appear later, which he surely will. I was nervous about how she would be portrayed, but Julia Garner (Ozark) is excellent in the part. What could’ve easily been a voice performance, Garner shines (again, literally) as the physical character, who has some of the best action scenes of the film, particularly after the Fantastic Four confront Galactus in space and attempt a getaway with Shalla-Bal in pursuit, which may be the highlight sequence of the film.

The action isn’t heavy in FF, but there’s just enough to give fans some IMAX-level spectacle, especially when Galactus is onscreen. Some characters are used more than others in terms of exploiting and capitalizing on their abilities, with Johnny and Sue getting more screentime in that regard than Reed and Grimm. Sure, we see Reed stretch and jump here and there, but this is hardly Sam Raimi-level ingenuity, and I expected a much bigger show of force with The Thing, who doesn’t get anything close to the smash-and-bash antics that his green counterpart, The Hulk, has on many occasions thus far. There’s still time, and I hope he’s used far more gratuitously in future appearances.

Michael Giacchino’s score takes center stage and gives a proper theme for the first family, which is playful, nostalgic, and energetic throughout. He’s a staple and reliable composer, who can be brilliant given the right project (Speed Racer and The Batman come to mind), and this one suits him just fine.

I think some viewers will find FF a struggle in places, as I did. It sags frequently and the pacing is more than a little erratic, but when it’s working, it works well. The VFX are top-notch, escaping the rush and tumble of the last two MCU efforts, feeling more polished and elevated, worthy of a new iteration of these beloved characters.

There’s a layer of nostalgia and otherworldliness to setting FF in a different universe, which will surely confuse many who go into this expecting it all to tie together, as they’ve been indoctrinated to do. Personally, I dug seeing a different world that semi-reflected the already established one, and, in reality, it’s a smart way to bring these characters into the Earth-616 universe as it’s the only way that makes sense. How no one would’ve called Reed Richards during Infinity War or Endgame is bananas, so it had to be this way.

It’s also great to see the many homages to the comic (as well as Lee and Kirby), including a brief cinematic recreation of Fantastic Four #1, which was a cool touch. There are many more, and probably many I missed, but sharp-eyed comic nerds will certainly notice, and each nod is a welcome treat.

The final set piece is entertaining enough, with Galactus being the showcase, but I can’t help but feel like it was massively constrained, possibly by budget alone, and this new attempt to “evacuate” all bystanders (as seen in the latest Superman film) is a bit obnoxious. We’re in comic book movie territory. We don’t need that aspect spoonfed to us (which still seems to be a carryover from the destruction at the end of Man of Steel). In any real-world setting, just having superheroes alone would drive the masses to madness. We can suspend disbelief and accept some casualties. It’s fine.

Emotionally, FF hits the notes that the last few films have missed, and that’s another important block to check. Even if I didn’t love all the actors in these roles, I think they’re great as a family unit and one that has room to grow, quite literally, especially with their newest addition of Franklin Richards. He is no doubt being teed up to play a major role in the MCU if the clues (and post-credits scene) are any indication, which will likely tie into the forthcoming Avengers: Doomsday and Avengers: Secret Wars, which makes sense given the character’s comic-book journey.

For those looking to be excited about the future of the MCU again, I’d say that The Fantastic Four: First Steps gives them their first real reason to be in what feels like a very long time. Fantastic? Depends on your mileage. A solid first step? Absolutely.

Leave a comment

My goal is to post more of my longer thoughts here on the Substack, rather than threading it out on X every time, so consider this a start to that. Far too many times I want to do a deeper dive, rather than a hit-and-run, and it’s a lot easier to get it all out before folks start pouncing.

Also, while you’re here, please take a moment to subscribe, free or paid, as it helps support my work and also reminds me to keep it up. Later this year I will be releasing an autobiographical book, chapter by chapter, on this platform, which focuses on my ten-year journey in the film journalism business. You could say I’m still doing that, but mostly I’m just doing what I’ve always done, which is write about movies. I just don’t answer to a boss.

Subscribe now

Coming up for me is the publication of my first novel, a horror story called Pinky, and then the release of my creator-owned comic The War/Scars. Also, if you’re looking for a podcast, be sure to check out MidMen, which is hosted by myself and Sean Coyle, an industry pro and one of my best friends, as we talk about pretty much everything from the perspective of the Gen X mindset.

Anyway, lots in the pipeline and I’m excited to share it with everyone, so subscribe and stick around!

Superman Box Office Breakdown

My take on the new Superman was certainly a surprise, even to me, and it’s been interesting to watch the debate, conversation, and vitriol over the film on social media since the film debuted last week. For a movie that supposedly inspires “hope” and “kindness,” you wouldn’t know it from some of the comments out there. Alas, that’s become the new norm, as discourse has taken a back seat to loud yelling at the front from nameless/faceless accounts.

While I’m happy that DC is enjoying a successful opening, there's context missing in comparison to 2013's Man of Steel, directed by Zack Snyder, which was the last time a Superman movie was cold-launched to kickstart a new cinematic DC universe. Many sites are reporting that Gunn’s Superman is the biggest opening ever for a solo Superman film, but that depends on the context.

The context in question comes with the adjusted for inflation numbers vs. raw numbers, which are very conflicting.

Man of Steel’s 2013 opening was about $117 million, which is roughly $151 million in today’s dollars. James Gunn's Superman reboot opened to $122 million domestically. Globally, Man of Steel launched to an inflation-adjusted $254 million, while Gunn’s Superman is debuting at $217 million. So, adjusting for inflation, Man of Steel had the bigger launch.

In raw dollars with no inflation adjustment, the new Superman outperformed Man of Steel by $5 million. Internationally, raw numbers give the lead to Superman as well: $95 million versus about $79 million. Worldwide, that’s $217 million for the new one versus around $196 million for Man of Steel.

Bear in mind, this says nothing about reviews or opinions on the film. Those are just cold, hard numbers and can be taken however you like.

Subscribe now

The real test of success will be how it performs over the next few weeks. Next weekend it is sure to remain at the top, but Fantastic Four will likely disrupt that by the third weekend. If FF is good and garners a strong word of mouth, it'll be interesting to see how Superman plays out in the long haul, especially with August and September releases looking fairly shabby in comparison to big summer releases.

It could very well be a showdown between the two superhero franchises, or perhaps no show at all, with one burying the other, or one outperforming the other without comparison. No one knows, I assure you, because if everyone in Hollywood knew what would be a hit and what wouldn’t, then they’d ALL be hits. But, they most certainly aren’t.

For devotees of the controversial Rotten Tomatoes score as a measure of success when it comes to Superman, I'd point you to Thunderbolts, which actually has a higher critic score (88 percent, compared to 82 percent) and the exact same audience score as Superman (93 percent), but with a much smaller opening ($74 million).

Social Media has been ablaze with chatter about Superman, most of it looking positive, but a healthy amount of dissenting opinion as well, which reminds me of the conversation around Star Wars: The Last Jedi, the most divisive of all Star Wars films, but still a critical and commercial success. However, one could also argue that it knocked the franchise askew, especially when Lucasfilm brought back JJ Abrams to “right the ship” in the third film of the new trilogy, which ultimately left most fans confused and disappointed, especially after the initial launch, The Force Awakens, had set up something that could’ve been amazing.

Of course, that’s a longer post on what happens when you start a trilogy with no clear direction and no idea how it’s going to conclude.

Could Superman be the next The Last Jedi in terms of critical, commercial, and audience reception? Time will tell.

Share Way of the Shirey

Listen, before I go any further, I’d appreciate it if you subscribed to my Substack. It’s been a hot minute since I updated, and I can’t promise it’s going to get better, but the truth is that your support means everything and when people sign up, then I know people are reading, and if I know people are reading, then I’m going to write more.

That said, I’ve been writing like crazy, just not for free on the Internet. I just completed my first novel, a horror story called “Pinky” which I am so freakin’ excited about. I loved writing it, start to finish, and now that I’m getting into revisions, then beta readers, publication, it’s getting more exciting by the minute. So, keep your eyes peeled. You’re about to get sick of me in the best possible way, especially if you already love me. What a conundrum.

Subscribe now

Okay, now that that’s out of the way, you’re here, most likely, for my Superman review. And, before I drop it (or you can just scroll ahead, but I think this context matters, so stick with me), I want to talk a little bit about influencers, reviewers, critics, etc. and how that can affect the initial reception you see for a film. I might know a thing or two about this, as I spent about ten years as a professional film journalist, and I think there’s a general mistrust when it comes to our trade these days and…it’s not unwarranted.

First, you need to watch this video from Patrick, a movie influencer type, who sums up the whole debacle rather perfectly. Check it out and then come back here to continue.

I have a much longer dive coming up for all of this when I start publishing my OTHER book, which is an autobiographical journey through my film journalism days. That will be published in chapters on THIS platform for Paid Subs, so stay tuned for that (and another reminder to subscribe).

But, the takeaway here is that, yes, absolutely, the people who work and depend on their livelihood as journalists and critics to have access to these sorts of things (set visits, junkets, early screenings, swag, etc.) can be compromised, so if you’re expecting a truly honest take each time, then you are putting your faith in a lie. Sometimes, sure, folks just love the movie, and believe me, they’re relieved when they do, because it makes it a lot easier to pimp it on your page.

Ultimately, the folks we’re talking about, and you all know who they are, are “access journalists”. And, I’m not vilifying them. I was one of them for a long time. Now, I get a screening here and there, but mostly I’m an audience member who buys his own ticket, makes his own choices, and shares his honest take afterwards. I don’t kiss the ring of anyone. I am my own voice, for better or worse.

I bring all of this up, because the discourse on X has called it into question many times before, and now it’s happening again on Superman, as many who are lauding it with early praise were literally marched through the streets of Metropolis. Is that a bad thing? Not at all. Again, I’ve worn those shoes. It’s part of the job and it’s a hell of a perk, and it’s damn good for business.

Is it good for getting an honest take on a film? No.

So, where do you get an honest take? From actual critics or people whom you tend to respect and/or agree with. Maybe that’s me. Maybe not. Either way, you’re getting what I thought, not a candy-coated take that promotes job security.

Subscribe now

So, without digging any deeper into that, what did I think of James Gunn’s Superman?

It brings me no joy to tell you that I really didn’t like it. At all.

From the previews and promotional material, my gut feeling was that I’d at least be entertained and have a good time. After all, I love quite a few James Gunn films. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 1 is a blast (the sequels less so), and I championed his The Suicide Squad, which I feel got killed at the box office by Covid (and that HBO Max release debacle). I dig Gunn’s earlier work, too, including Slither and Super, both of which represent his more twisted style. I feel those films are more “him”, even if his superhero stuff still has its highs (and lows).

Being put in charge of DC Films, attempting to be the new leader for the brand, a la Marvel’s Kevin Feige, is no small task. I don’t envy that for Gunn, trying to kickstart the brand, keep it connected, and then guide the entire wagon race to $1 billion per picture. Gunn says it won’t need that much to be profitable, but that’s the new magic number in Hollywood for spectacle films, like it or not (just ask Feige).

Superman represents an effort that sidesteps all the usual origin-building and jumps right into the action, accomplishing all of it with a few title cards at the beginning. Nothing wrong with that, as the fatigue of origin stories is a real thing, but instead of investing us in a deep, unfolding journey, Superman is all over the place, packing in as much as it can in establishing this “new DCU” so much so that it almost serves as a series of mini pilot shows trapped in a movie. It’s the equivalent of the Chinese Drone Carrier, showering the audience with everything from Mr. Terrific to Guy Gardner and the Green Lantern Corps to Hawkgirl to Metamorpho to Lex Luthor to The Daily Planet to Lois Lane to Jimmy Olsen to Eve Teschemacher and everything else that fits within the runtime.

David Corenswet is the shining light of the film, and thankfully, he wins over the audience enough that we’d like to see him again, hopefully in a better film. I wish I could say the same for everyone else, who don’t rise to the challenge, and, in many cases, don’t even have one to rise to.

Superman is overstuffed with a whole lot of illogical silliness. A lot of folks are championing it as a true comic book film, but I have to question if they have ever actually read a comic, or, y’know, read comics regularly since the third grade and have an actual understanding of how it all works (or doesn’t). Sure, many things in Superman feel “comic-booky”, like a giant, stupid-looking Kaiju that shows up for Superman to fight at random, or the robot helpers at The Fortress of Solitude. Or the gee-whiz of Luthor’s interdimensional prison, or the made-up names of countries that are representing real places in an attempt to make the audience connect.

Unfortunately, the attempts to get political in the film are much deeper than I anticipated, and it’s one of its biggest missteps. I’m not even going to try to regurgitate the made-up names for what amounts to Russia, Syria, Gaza, Israel, etc., but it’s so cartoonish that you have to wonder why they even bothered to include such things. The film poses some interesting questions early on when Lois Lane “interviews” her boyfriend, Superman, asking him why he thinks he should’ve been involved in stopping countries from invading one another, to which he naively replies, “People were going to die!”

It sounds noble and idealistic, perfect for Superman, right? Except, if you know anything about how the world works, you know that a metahuman kidnapping world leaders and threatening them if they invade or take any kind of military action isn’t just a slippery slope; It’s a downhill slip and slide. It made me pause to think about what Gunn was trying to present (who wrote and directed Superman) to us. If Superman is intervening on behalf of these made-up countries because people were going to die, at what point does he get involved in U.S. policy and leaders? And if he doesn’t, why not? And if he does, is Superman actually just “ruling the planet?”

I guess it’s as silly as the premise of Superman IV, which starred the late Christopher Reeve in a dismal final effort that had him rounding up all the nuclear weapons on Earth and chucking them into space. A goofy premise that exposed the problem with Superman’s naive nature. We’re just supposed to accept, both in the Reeve film and in Gunn’s, that Superman is just “trying his best here” and that we should all be grateful that someone is “stepping up”. Y’know, like Antifa rioters.

As good as Corenswet is (I still prefer Cavill and it’s not even close), he spends much of the movie having outbursts, crying, and being generally wimpy for someone who’s supposed to be a decisive hero. When fighting a giant Kaiju in the heart of Metropolis, Supes saves everyone, from fleeing old ladies to cute little squirrels. It’s fine, I suppose, but it also verges on dipping into the Reeve era and being goofy, nostalgic fan service. Bryan Singer already did that for an entire film with 2006’s Superman Returns, which was also a tremendous letdown.

The villain at the center of it all is, of course, Lex Luthor, this time played by Nicholas Hoult, who brings a manic, obsessive energy to the role, but feels tremendously miscast. Hoult is a talented actor, and he’s more than proven he can deliver strong performances (and hilarious ones if you’ve ever seen The Great), but he feels like a petulant manchild here. The enigmatic persona that Gene Hackman brought to the role is nowhere to be found, nor is the menacing version played by Kevin Spacey. To date, the best version has been Michael Rosenbaum on Smallville, but you could argue he had a lot more time to build the role. Still, his take had the right balance and intensity, and I kept wishing it was him instead of Hoult on the big screen.

Rachel Broshahan is stunningly beautiful and has a look that’s more in line with Margot Kidder, but it’s a mostly thankless role, as she has more of a girl power vibe going on, albeit with a struggle to connect with her boyfriend. The relationship she has with Superman is, naturally, already in play when the movie begins, and they’re dealing with their differences as a “secret” couple. At one point, Lane says that she and Superman are “very different,” and it made me wonder what they had in common at all, as it never shows in the film. They just kind of kiss and hug, and all is well, just…because.

There’s no reason for this, though, as the film is called Superman, and we should be fully invested in that character throughout, but we’re not. Mr. Terrific (Edi Gathegi) seems to take up a lot of time in the film, so much so that I started just to wish it was his. The same could be said for Skyler Gisondo’s Jimmy Olsen, who has a whole subplot of having an unwanted romantic entanglement with Sara Sampaio’s Eve Teschmacher, who serves as a selfie-taking girlfriend to Luthor, but is secretly fawning over Olsen and serving as an informant. She’s obviously attractive, yet Olsen treats her like a troll, even having a nickname for her “ugly toes”. Olsen has a whole entourage of women who seek his attention, but he acts like none of them can measure up. It’s just an odd direction, as it’s impossible to believe that someone like Olsen wouldn’t jump at the chance to be with a woman like Eve Teschmacher.

Speaking of female entourage’s, at one point Superman’s Kryptonian parental message is interpreted in a very “Invincible” kind of way, as missing fragments are made to show that they intended for their son, Kal-El, to rule over the people of Earth and take on a harem of women to spread his seed. A perplexing choice, that gets dragged out over and over again, without the intended laughter, I think it was aiming for.

The humor is another big issue with the film. While Superman’s affable charm and dim-witted logic are one thing, there are so many lines, jokes, and one-liners in the film that simply don’t land. I saw Superman as part of the Amazon early access screening, and my theater was packed with people in Superman attire, excited to revisit the DC hero, but you wouldn’t know it while the movie played. Almost none of the jokes landed, and I chuckled maybe once or twice. And, I’m not a humorless shill. I love to laugh. I love all types of jokes, raunchy, clean, clever, or slapstick. But, Superman cannot find any of the comedic footing that Gunn managed to land with his Guardians films. I was genuinely surprised, as I felt like that would be the easy part for him. Apparently not.

The ending of the film features a walk-on from another superhero character, and the interaction in that scene is a pretty weird one as well, which just didn’t hit the way I think Gunn intended. It veered way too far into “what the hell?” territory for my tastes and seemed like an odd way to introduce the character.

Alas, we need to talk about the scene stealer of the movie, Krypto. If you love dogs, as I do, then you’ll probably love Krypto. But, then again, I love dogs, and I did not love Krypto, mostly because he’s kind of a menace. Much of this is because Gunn used the likeness of his dog, a rescue, who was also a menace when he got it. It’s cool that Gunn had that experience and bonded with his pet, but the oversaturation of that affection bleeds into Superman far too much.

Some will vehemently disagree with me on this, and that’s fine. At the end of the day, I wanted more Superman and less of the dog. It got to be so much that I wondered why the film wasn’t called Superman and Krypto.

The other characters who did not work for me were Ma and Pa Kent. They’re more in-line with the older couple in Richard Donner’s Superman, but way more redneck. It’s hard to top Schneider/Costner or O’Toole/Lane, but this is an epic-level downgrade. Nothing wrong with the actors, of course, but as characters, they feel like a trailer park couple that stumbled upon an alien baby. It just didn’t take, and maybe I’m just spoiled with what came before.

Speaking of what came before, the comparisons of Gunn’s Superman to Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel are inevitable, and I’ll spare you a long list of them. From my side of the fence, MOS is a far superior Superman film. It’s the gold standard of Superman films. Top to bottom, Man of Steel checks all the boxes for me, which doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy another take, but that take had better be fire in its own right. Gunn’s Superman is not that.

The messaging of Gunn’s Superman seems to be about making Superman “human” and highlighting his fallibility and naivete, but also, hey guys, he’s trying really hard here and at least he’s doing something…by basically invading foreign countries and screwing with foreign policy, being neither elected or appointed to do so. It’s hopelessly hopeful in that way, which makes it feel disingenuous and half-assed. And yes, sometimes superheroes go down a political road. Sometimes it works, but mostly it doesn’t. As a rule, it’s best to avoid it, especially these days, when everyone is already going for the throat over that stuff everywhere else. We’re supposed to be escaping that noise with a Superman film.

As for the action and VFX portion of the film, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before and lacks any real gravitas in terms of leaving the audience with unforgettable moments. No new ground is tread and I found myself baffled at times by how “TV” the film looked. When the fighting and action kick in (which isn’t much), there simply isn’t anything done that pushes the genre, the character, or the vision of the DCU. It’s paint-by-numbers battles, a city being destroyed, all while being adorned in bulky, leather-clad costumes and bad haircuts.

I don’t discredit Gunn for shooting his shot. They hired him to do a job, and he, along with producer Peter Safran, did what they do. Unfortunately, for me, this is not the banger of a beginner we needed with DCU, but rather a misguided, half-cooked hodgepodge of a starter kit that’s more confusing and overstuffed than earnest and entertaining.

So, while I didn’t enjoy Superman and was shocked at how little I cared for it, I’m still like a passenger on a plane with the DCU. I’m rooting for the pilot. I want to get to my destination safe and happy, so it doesn’t make me feel good to feel bad about a movie. I don’t pay to be tortured, but sometimes it works out that way. Here’s to hoping the next DCU entries fare better, or I fear it will be a long, long time before the cape flies across the screen again.

Leave a comment

Subscribe now

Share

Subscribe now

It seemed like it would never happen. Echoes of a sequel to Gladiator floated around ever since the original was released in 2000 and now, twenty-four years later, it has arrived. The original Gladiator was the perfect fit for a director of Ridley Scott’s talents; epic in scope, sweeping in action, seeped in character, beautifully filmed, gloriously scored, and cast with superb talent that chewed scenery like someone starved for days.

The reverence of Richard Harris as Marcus Aurelius, the brute force of Russell Crowe as Maximus, and the maddening brilliance of Joaquin Phoenix as Commodus helped make Gladiator an absolute slam dunk in the historical epic category. Hans Zimmer’s score ushering in the visual masterwork that Ridley Scott spun left an indelible mark on cinema, earning it 5 Oscar wins, including Best Picture, as well as a Best Actor win for Crowe.

However, the fate of Crowe’s Maximus left many scratching their heads as to what a sequel to Gladiator would even be without him in it. The answer, of course, lay in the offspring of Lucilla (Aurelius’ daughter, as played by Connie Nielsen) and Maximus. Lucius is introduced in the first film (played by Spencer Treat Clark) as the idealistic child who looks up to Maximus, not knowing that he is his actual father. By the end of the film, as a deceased Maximus is carried out of the Colosseum, his final words being, “Lucius is safe”.

Now, some 15 years later, it is revealed that Lucius was whisked away for his own safety, as Lucilla feared that his life was in danger as the new heir to the throne after the death of Commodus. It directly contradicts Maximus’ last words, but there we are. Now living in Africa with his wife, Lucius (played by Brit star Paul Mescal) is a farmer/soldier for the ancient North African country of Numidia. The opening finds the Roman Empire attacking Numidia to gain control of it. Led by none other than The Mandalorian himself, Pedro Pascal, playing the new general of the army, Marcus Acacius, a brave, cunning, and conflicted man amidst his complex situation as a mandated world conqueror.

After a massive defeat at the hands of the Romans, Lucius is captured and made a slave, who later becomes a gladiator, owned and operated by none other than Macrinus, a trader, gambler, businessman, and aspiring politician played by the always great Denzel Washington. Rome is now controlled by two egomaniacal morons who have somehow risen to power (no explanation is ever given as to their ascension), played by Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger. They are certainly mean-spirited, but far from the conniving madman that was Commodus in the first film.

What follows is a very familiar journey from freedom fighter to slave to Gladiator to freedom fighter again, while politicians and military leaders plot and scheme to take the one thing humans have fought over since the dawn of time; power. The journey, however, is nowhere near as polished, earned, or refined in the way the first film was. Gladiator 2 zig-zags all over the place with the plot, characters, and actions seemingly smashed together at random, leaving far too many gaps in storytelling to sell the emotion, the suspense, or the stakes to any high degree. Chock full of clunky and perplexing moments, interspersed with some bloody violence and a few scenes of arena spectacle, Gladiator 2 is as half-baked as it gets.

The weight of Maximus’ journey was felt deeply in the first film, whereas Gladiator 2 finds limp motivation for Mescal’s Lucius. Sure, he has lost a loved one and he is estranged from his mother, but his quest for revenge feels lacking, let alone his general purpose. We never get inside his head to know who he is, what he wants, or why he wants it. He’s happy to settle for a Roman general’s head, but it still doesn’t feel as personal as it should. When it’s revealed that the general in question, Pascal’s Acacius, is Lucilla’s lover, there’s an added conflict, but the resolution doesn’t feel satisfying in any way.

Much of Gladiator 2 trades on a kind of mystery element, but the audience is pretty much in on the bigger aspects of that. It’s obvious from Lucilla’s interactions with Maximus in the first film that Lucius was likely her child and it’s confirmed multiple times over in the sequel, yet dangled in front of us continuously. In essence, it’s a waste of screen time trying to solve such a mystery, or even to use it to one’s advantage, as Washington’s Macrinus does.

While Gladiator had scenes of true, emotional rage, pain, and vengeance, Gladiator 2 lacks the presence of anything close to it, other than Mescal yelling at his mom to get out of his room or the Roman Caesar brothers having a hissy fit in the Colosseum. Sure, we get some cool action sequences, which is likely the driving factor for most audiences, but they are few and far between and again, not built up in a way that puts you on the edge of your seat with anticipation.

In terms of dialogue, Gladiator 2 again falls short of the epic, defining speeches that populated the original, leaving nothing memorable to stand out. Mescal is stoic, fast, and efficient at killing, but his performance is jilted, uneven, and lacking in the kind of presence that was needed to headline this kind of film. Talented, for sure, but he’s no Russell Crowe, and that’s what this film needed more than anything to make us feel invested again.

Subscribe now

The standout performance, without question, belongs to Washington, who generates the most interest, humor, and hatred as the story goes on. It’s a great role for him, but one he could’ve done in his sleep. This is Washington just having fun and it’s great to see, but you have to wonder if Scott used him to his full potential (just kidding, you don’t have to wonder, he didn’t).

By the end, Gladiator 2 is just too much of a retread of the original, right down to the old “strength and honor” line, which somehow becomes the theme of the film, while not making much sense at all. Mescal gives several motivational speeches throughout, none of them memorable and all of them echoing the most base-level inspiration about dying bravely. The other tired theme that feels like a blight on the film is the whole “dream of Rome” bullshit, which was beaten to death in the first film (and worked just fine), but now just feels like cheap talk. The goalposts haven’t moved much in 15 years as everyone is seemingly always in a position to overthrow an incompetent Caesar. Rinse, repeat, snooze.

One of the most staggering omissions of Gladiator 2 is Hans Zimmer’s score. Stepping in for the sequel is Harry Gregson-Williams, normally an amazing composer in his own right, but the score here is so ridiculously muted that there were points that I wondered if the theater wasn’t playing the track somehow. The first film bolstered a pulse-pounding, rousing, emotional, and soaring score, complete with an unforgettable theme. Gladiator 2 may as well have used a copyright-free track off of YouTube by comparison and it’s a tremendous drawback to the film.

Now, all of this may make it seem like I hated Gladiator 2, but that’s not the case. If you’re a true fan of Ridley Scott, then you’ll know that no matter how “off” one of his films can be, there’s still quite a bit to enjoy. A rhino battle in the Colosseum? Dope. Crazed baboons fighting slaves? Wild. A naval battle with sharks in the arena? Epic. Some beautifully lit, atmosphere-dense scenes? Check on all counts. However, none of those great things can make up for a perplexingly weak, shallow, and uninspired script, as well as a lead actor who simply can’t fill the boots of his predecessor. Coupled with the lack of Zimmer’s orchestral flourish, Gladiator 2 simply won’t echo in eternity like the original and it’s impossible not to compare when so much of the film leans on what came before. You can attempt to judge Gladiator 2 on its own, but that isn’t the saving grace you may think it is.

While Ridley Scott may believe it’s one of the best things he’s ever done, I will respectfully disagree. It’s one of the most “fine” things he’s ever done (in fact, I much prefer his last polarizing effort, Napoleon, to this) and that’s more than okay for the prolific filmmaker who has given us a cavalcade of greats, from Alien to Blade Runner to Black Hawk Down to Thelma and Louise to The Martian to Kingdom of Heaven and everything in between, including the original Gladiator. At this point, it’s Ridley’s show, and I’m here for it, whether it’s a modern classic, a total disaster, or a flash in the pan. Are we not, at least, entertained? Why yes, Ridley, we are.

If you’re a first-time reader (or even a repeat one), please make sure to subscribe, be it free or paid, to this Substack. Both help tremendously in supporting my work and I’m forever grateful to all that do.

Subscribe now

The first mistake you can make with Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, is expecting it to be just like Mad Max: Fury Road. The second mistake you can make is not going to see Furiosa for that reason. While Fury Road sets a standard that’s impossible to topple, Furiosa is no less a tremendously vibrant, exhaustingly cool, and mythology-building entry into the franchise that capitalizes on the vision and style blueprint that George Miller has created for his post-apocalyptic wasteland.

Writer/Director George Miller has been revisiting and refining this vision since 1979’s hallmark, Mad Max, taking audiences on an ever-evolving tale of a post-apocalyptic future in which savage survival is the name of the game, while humanity struggled to, well, be human. The first three entries in Miller’s Mad Max saga starred Mel Gibson, who embodied the silent road warrior with his charismatic stoicism and grit, reaching the end of his journey with the franchise in Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome, an underwhelming entry that debuted in 1985, co-directed with George Ogilvie and amounting to a more diluted effort that was missing Miller’s rigorous vision.

It took 30 years for Miller to return to the saga, and in most cases, you’d expect the long delay to equal a ‘mediocre’ film, but that wasn’t the case. Like, at all. 2015’s Mad Max: Fury Road took the box office by storm, particularly for the Mad Max saga, and took home six Oscars for its trouble to boot. Fury Road saw Tom Hardy replacing Gibson as Max, while introducing Charlize Theron as Imperator Furiosa, a war rig driver for the despotic Immortan Joe, played by the late Hugh Keays-Byrne. Fury Road has since been included on many of the ‘definitive’ best-of lists, and stands as a technical marvel of epic proportions, capturing some of the best in-camera, practical action that’s ever been put on film. It also catapulted Theron’s Furiosa as a newly-beloved character in the Mad Max mythology.

Enter Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, Miller’s first-ever prequel set within the Mad Max wasteland world that focuses on a character other than Max. Recasting Furiosa with Anya Taylor-Joy in place of Theron (to not distract audiences with de-aging technology, according to Miller), as well as Lachy Hulme taking over Keays-Byrne’s Immortan Joe, Furiosa also has many of Fury Road’s side characters returning with original actors, including John Howard as The People Eater, Nathan Jones as Rictus Erectus, and Angus Sampson as The Organic Mechanic.

Sharp-eyed viewers will also note that Josh Helman, who played Slit in Fury Road, is back in a new role as the Beavis and Butthead-looking Scrotus. The two new major additions to the cast in terms of characters are Chris Hemsworth, taking on the main heavy role as Dr. Dementus, and Tom Burke as Pratorian Jack, a mentor-like role for Furiosa and the original driver of Immortan Joe’s war rig. Also back are much of the Oscar-winning crew of Fury Road, including editor Margaret Sixel and composer Tom Holkenborg, making for a near-perfect concoction of talent to brew the latest Mad Max saga.

So, let’s not make any bones about it. Furiosa is not Fury Road. Nor should it be. The absolute worst thing Miller could’ve done would’ve been to rehash the brilliance of the previous film and repackage it into a new one. Instead, Miller leans deep into the mythology, lore, and characters, giving the most sprawling look into the epic scope of the wasteland to date. Seeing more nooks and crannies of The Citadel, as well as a first look at both The Bullet Farm and Gas Town, we finally get to look under the hood of these varied post-apocalyptic ecosystems and how they work. It’s not all that complex, but it’s still a more intricate look at the how and why of these tribal leaders and tyrants who control the burned-out future.

Whereas Fury Road was essentially a long chase movie that drives in one direction and then turns around to drive back, Furiosa is a time-spanning tale of revenge, survival, pain, love, and betrayal. You could toss in a bunch of themes to encapsulate Furiosa, as it is essentially a human story, set amongst the dismal wreckage of a war-torn world, painted with colorful, grotesque, violent, and destitute survivors trying to make their way in a hopeless existence.

One warning for Furiosa viewers is that it is broken into five different chapters, each of them spaced out a few years, beginning with Furiosa as a child, played by actress Alyla Browne, who appears as the titular character for the first hour. While top-billed, Taylor-Joy doesn’t show up until about the halfway point of Furiosa, which makes perfect sense within the bounds of the story Miller is telling. The questions about the green place, what happened to Furiosa’s mother, and how she came to become what she became are all answered, but it’s not all on Taylor-Joy’s shoulders to embody.

Subscribe now

Thankfully, Taylor-Joy (as well as Brown for her part in the story) is up to the task of playing the role that Theron defined. She makes Furiosa her own while honoring the tracks laid by Theron. Most of her work is done physically or emotionally, but not with dialogue. Like Max Rockatansky, she is a character of few words, but many deeds, chief of which is avenging her mother’s death at the hands of Hemsworth’s Dementus. Hemsworth, an actor who has leaned heavily into mostly heroic roles (with some villainous deviations in Spiderhead, Bad Times At The El Royale, A Perfect Getaway), his performance as Dementus is certainly larger than life, although not always as grandiose as he may have hoped.

Dementus is a villain, but he’s also a survivor, a point that sneaks around the corner from time to time, making you wonder if there’s some shred of redemption for him (yeah, not really). He’s not a great leader, nor a smart one, but he makes up for it in brutality and charisma with mixed results. Wielding a prosthetic nose isn’t enough to completely change the muscular actor (who still manages to wear a red cape at one point) into a wasteland baddie, so he adopts a nasally native accent that works well enough for the persona of Dementus, but is no less grating at times. Sure, we hate him as a villain and can even relate to him a bit as such, but a little more intensity over antics would’ve gone a long way. Still, Hemsworth is a good get for the main villain and gives his all to the role, even if it’s not always on target.

What most people will flock to Furiosa for is the action, fortunately, or unfortunately because of what was done in Fury Road. Some will feel satiated and some will feel lacking in that department, which will vary with each individual and how well they can separate the two films (while also connecting them). The good news is that Miller is still at the top of his game when it comes to practical and VFX action, making what could’ve been a CGI nightmare into a fever dream of spectacular stunts and brutality that remains unmatched by most modern filmmakers. Miller, whether you love or hate Furiosa, gives a masterclass in directing craftsmanship with Furiosa, as he did with Fury Road. Where you fall in terms of which is better relies entirely on your personal preferences, but both fall well in line with one another, making for a majestic double feature that I can’t wait to enjoy down the line.

Tom Holkenborg’s score is also well in line with Fury Road’s propulsive soundtrack, giving a more anxious, harrowing score to Furiosa than the steadily-paced heroic one of Fury Road, with both colliding exactly where they should in terms of a consistent flow between films. As a composer, Holkenborg can sometimes come off as just doing a job, while other times coming off like he melted down his heart and soul and poured it into the work like flowing lava. Furiosa lets the lava flow.

If I have any kind of complaint about Furiosa, it’s the lack of blood and gore. It’s an R-rated movie and it certainly doesn’t pull any punches in terms of brutality, violence, and post-apocalyptic deformities, but frequently the level of intensity didn’t match the level of gore it should have. I’m not looking for gore porn here, to be clear, but there were a few too many times that the camera cut away or avoided some of the violence portrayed that could’ve used that extra gut punch to drive home not only Furiosa’s thirst for revenge, but the bloody consequences of living in such a time and under such circumstances. It’s a minor complaint, but there were just too many times that I questioned whether this was a hard PG-13 or a weak R.

While the narrative structure, tone, and vibe of Furiosa is very different than Fury Road, it is no less a riotous and bombastic affair that allows the characters to breathe a bit more between chapters. The action, vision, and style of Fury Road is ever-present but packaged for a very different story. For me, that’s a great measure to have, be it a prequel or a sequel. It harkens back to what we want, while also giving us something new, making the journey that much more interesting to invest in, rather than just jumping back on the same rollercoaster we just rode.

I think most audiences will, at a minimum, enjoy the Fury Road similarities of Furiosa, while lamenting the differences. Others will surely rally to a call of Furiosa being better than Fury Road, causing strife amongst cinephiles that will surely rage stupidly on X. The fact that an argument can be had says a lot about both films when it comes down to it.

Fury Road is no doubt an unbeatable classic, but Furiosa is damned perfect as a lead-in/origin story to it. It clips all the branches and hits all the notes one could want from a prequel. It doesn’t need to compete with Fury Road, it just needs to exist alongside it, perfectly on pace with Miller’s vision. For my money, I’m just grateful to have another epic entry in this blossoming saga under Miller’s sure hand, which has left me even hungrier for a sequel that involves both Max and Furiosa, completing a new wasteland trilogy for the ages. While no hope exists in Miller’s post-apocalyptic world, Furiosa proves there is hope to spare in his signature franchise.

Leave a comment

I’ve fallen a bit behind on reviews as I’ve been working dilligently on both my comic, The War/Scars, as well as building up my art portfolio (Deadpool/Wolverine prints are incoming), so here is a round-up of reviews for three of the bigger releases in the last few weeks, starting with this week’s The Fall Guy. Let’s dip in, shall we?

THE FALL GUY

Most moviegoers won’t have a clue that The Fall Guy, the latest action-comedy effort from director David Leitch (Bullet Train, Deadpool 2, Atomic Blonde), is based on a TV show that ran for 5 seasons in the early 80s. That’s perfectly okay, as I don’t think the filmmakers had a clue either. It’s not that there aren’t callbacks and nods, but The Fall Guy movie takes its own path, while also feeling like a perfectly obscure episode of the show it’s based on.

Written by Drew Pearce (Iron Man 3, Hobbs & Shaw), The Fall Guy falls prey to a paper-thin plot drizzled with a playfully boring love story between the two main leads, Ryan Gosling (Colt Seavers) and Emily Blunt (Jody Moreno), while serving as a pavement for the film’s stunts, rather than a driving force of a well-told story.

Gosling plays Seavers as Ryan Gosling and Blunt plays Jody Moreno as Emily Blunt, which is both a detriment and a credit to the actors. Both are capable of offering much more to this silly, stunt-filled romp, but instead seem asked only to look cool and be themselves, with most of the dialogue feeling ad-libbed. That’s fine if you’re Will Ferrell, Larry David, or Ricky Gervais, but for The Fall Guy, it almost feels like comedy mumblecore where the two play cute with each exchange, improvising as the camera rolls. As likable as the two leads are, they are certainly capable of playing more than themselves.

Subscribe now

Another issue with The Fall Guy was the lack of music or score where it was desperately needed, making many of the dialogue scenes feel like you’re watching a rehearsal. I’m not saying you need music in every frame of your film, but The Fall Guy desperately needed a stronger theme and score to match the onscreen antics. There are a few good needle drops, including Phil Collins’ Against All Odds, The Darkness’ I Believe In A Thing Called Love, and a fun use of the Miami Vice Theme by Jan Hammer, but I was surprised there weren’t more. Like, a LOT more, especially for a movie like this. The opportunity was there in spades, but the choice was made to hold back, which I think was a major error in what could’ve made for a hell of a throwback soundtrack (The score by Dominic Lewis is barely there).

The supporting cast includes the always fun Winston Duke (Black Panther) as Seaver’s friend and stunt co-worker, potential future James Bond and next Sony Spider-Man spinoff flop lead Aaron Taylor-Johnson (yes, I’m talking about Kraven The Hunter) as Tom Ryder, the megalomaniac movie star that Seaver stunt doubles for, and Hannah Waddingham (Ted Lasso), who plays a Diet Coke freebasing producer named Gail Meyer. Teresa Palmer and Stephanie Hsu also show up for a few stunt scenes, both talented, but not exactly put to the test here.

In terms of story, The Fall Guy starts with Gosling’s Seaver narrating his stunt job and the fun fling he’s having with Blunt’s Moreno, a camera operator on a film they’re shooting, which stars Taylor-Johnson’s Ryder. After an accident on set that leaves Seaver with a broken back, the stuntman becomes a recluse, shunning everyone in his former life, seemingly too humiliated as a failure to return to work. A year and a half later, Seaver is called by Waddington’s Meyer, who is producing a new big-budget sci-fi film starring Ryder, and desperately needs him to fly to Australia and stunt for them.

Reluctantly, Seaver agrees, after being told by Meyer that the director of the film requested him, who is none other than Blunt’s Moreno, who is moving into the big leagues with her first directorial feature. However, once Seaver arrives to Australia, Meyer’s ulterior motives are revealed. Ryder has gone missing and they have 48 hours before the studio pulls the plug on the film because of it. So, Seaver is tasked with finding and bringing back Ryder, something he agrees to do because his ever-burning love for Blunt’s Moreno doesn’t want her to lose her shot by not completing the film.

What follows is a series of oddly edited scenes, including some of the worst matching action I’ve seen in a while, low-key comedy that misses more than it hits, a cartoonish story that feels made up by a high schooler, and some impressive stunt work that belongs in a better film. The Fall Guy isn’t boring, per se, but it’s not a tightly-woven thrill ride either. It falls somewhere in the middle, which I think will divide audiences into two camps, some who love it for the empty-headed, big-hearted silly spectacle that it is, and others who are perplexed by the squandered potential of something that should be much better, especially given the talent involved.

By the time the “mystery” of the film is revealed and all the players’ cards on the table it all gets very Scooby-Doo. For some, this may not matter and may well be part of the charm, but for me it just made it all seem stupid. When the stakes are at the same level as a Saturday morning cartoon it’s hard to get swept up in the journey, unless you’re a six-year-old kid watching said cartoon, in which case you’ll have your mind blown. The Fall Guy has an identity crisis in this way; is it a straight comedy? A parody? An action movie? A drama? Or, is it just a “love letter” to stunt performers with some movie stuffing in the middle? Perhaps that’s up to the audience to decide, but it doesn’t spell it out.

Subscribe now

Gosling and Blunt are playfully fun and they tussle around lovingly in slow motion just enough to make you believe they could be a couple, but in the end, we’re trading on their movie star personas to ride out the film, rather than learning about and investing in new characters to love. It’s difficult to buy into their drama when the stakes are so cartoonishly dumb. There’s a comedic tug-of-war between the two that is more amusing than funny, and frequently just weird and out-of-place, almost as if someone were off-camera tossing out jokes for them to assimilate and see what lands. Outside of the stuntwork and action, The Fall Guy feels like a film made up on the fly. It’s a shame that the story, dialogue, and characters couldn’t get the same refined attention to detail that the stuntwork gets. Otherwise, The Fall Guy might’ve stuck the landing.

ABIGAIL

If you’ve been thirsty for some new vampire blood at the movies, then Abigail has you covered. Written and directed by the Radio Silent team of Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett (Ready or Not, Scream/Scream VI) stars Melissa Barrera (Scream VI), Dan Stevens (Godzilla X Kong), Kevin Durand (Locke & Key), Kathryn Newton (Ant-Man and The Wasp: Quantumania), William Catlett (Constellation), as well as the late Angus Cloud (Euphoria) as a group of kidnappers, all from different backgrounds, who are hired by the mysterious Lambert (Giancarlo Esposito) to heist a young ballerina named Abigail, played by Alisha Weir.

Once captured, Abigail is brought to a large mansion, where she is to be held for ransom for 24 hours. The twist, however, is that after discovering who Abigail’s father is, a big-time crime boss, the group begins to fall apart and decides it may be best to just leave. Of course, they discover that Abigail isn’t locked in their with them, but they are locked in there with Abigail, who reveals herself to be a blood-sucking vampire who likes to play with her food.

What unravels is a blood-soaked mystery, as we discover more about each character, even as they’re picked off in frequently gory ways. Barrera is, for all intents and purposes, the “final girl” of the film, but it is Steven’s who emerges as the most fun addition to the cast, playing a former cop lured to the dark side, who you can’t quite figure out if you should trust or not. The others are fun and interesting enough, but Stevens is simply having a ball here and it’s great to see him have a double-header with Abigail after Godzilla X Kong.

There’s plenty of vampire lore and mythology in Abigail, which is a finely built caper amidst a horror film, that unravels smoothly to the very end, while unleashing some cool surprises and jolts along the way. I struggled to think of the last good vampire movie I’ve seen to compare it to and came up with Let The Right One In (as well as the English remake Let Me In), released in 2008 and 2010, which ironically also focuses on a young female vampire.

Abigail has more than a little in common with the filmmaker’s Ready Or Not, both of which trade on the cat-and-mouse genre in a single location, but there’s nothing wrong with capitalizing on a craft done well. Ultimately, Abigail hits the stake through the heart of the “bloody fun” horror genre and makes the case for a solid vampire flick to add to the best-of list.

FALLOUT

Fallout is my favorite video game franchise of all time, next to The Elder Scrolls. Now, I’m not an online guy (even though I tried out Fallout 1776) and prefer the old-school RPG (Role-Playing Game) mode where I can roam the wasteland at my own pace, develop my character, chase loot, and choose my path to the inevitable conclusion. For my money, the Fallout franchise has absolutely nailed the gaming experience down to the smallest details, creating an entire alternate reality world that is fascinating, terrifying, beautiful, horrific, and sprawling. Oh, and the bloody combat is pretty damn fun, too.

I was hesitant to get excited when I heard that they were making a show based on Fallout. Video game adaptations are frequent failures (Doom, Hitman, Super Mario Bros., Max Payne, Rampage, Assassin’s Creed, etc., etc.) theatrically or on TV (Resident Evil, Twisted Metal), but every so often, they pull out a win (The Last of Us, Mortal Kombat). Adapting a video game is no easy task, especially when the lead character is guided by the player, so it’s understandable why so many miss the mark.

Based on the game series of the same name, created by Tim Cain and Leonard Boyarsky for Bethesda Softworks, Fallout imagines a post-apocalyptic world where America has been ravaged by nuclear war, forcing many survivors to live in underground vaults where they have thrived by recreating the wholesome values of their futuristic 1950s styled world. However, many survived topside as well, forced to live in the most unfathomable conditions and rebuild society as best as they could, now with all the worst that humanity has to offer, as well as a heaping number of monstrous post-war creatures that ravage the wasteland.

Subscribe now

Visually, Fallout is wonderfully unique, vibrant, frightening, and brilliant. Any show would have to bring that to life first and foremost. Thankfully, with showrunners Graham Wagner (Silicon Valley, Portlandia) and Geneva Robertson-Dworet (Tomb Raider, Captain Marvel), along with Jonathan Nolan and Lisa Joy (Westworld), Fallout began with a strong creative team. The casting of Ella Purnell as Lucy, a vault dweller, Aaron Moten as Maximus, A Brotherhood of Steel prospect, and Walton Goggins as The Ghoul/Cooper Howard, was a step in the right direction as well, although I had my trepidations about Purnell and Moten initially.

My fear was that Fallout would be a shell of what the game was, capturing only small tidbits and then venturing into territory that had nothing to do with the franchise. I’m happy to report that my fears were unfounded.

Fallout is not only the best video game adaptation to date, but absolutely the most faithful adaptation, so much so that it almost feels like watching the next game in the series. Much of this is likely due to the heavy involvement of Bethesda in the creation and execution of the series, which is canon within the Fallout universe, meaning that the story in the show correlates directly back to the games and vice versa.

Every detail of Fallout fits perfectly within the game’s aesthetic, down to the smallest detail. The Easter Eggs within the show are abundant and it took me a second viewing to even come close to catching them all. Stimpacks, Psycho, 10mm pistol, Junk Jet, bobble heads, Red Rocket, Vertibird, the list goes on and on and is far too much to list here. Let’s just say, they got it right and then some, which is no small feat. To have such an abundance of detail in a single season is near unheard of in such an adaptation.

In truth, Fallout rolled out a little slowly for me and took me some time to connect with the characters. Initially I was annoyed with Lucy and Maximus and felt The Ghoul would be cartoonish at best. Thanfully, I was wrong on all counts. Lucy became much more complex and developed as her adventure went on, which is essentially a coming-of-age for her safe and privileged upbringing, giving her challenges and tasks that tested her strength and character. Similarly, Maximus went through the gauntlet of joining the Brotherhood, constantly at odds with his desire to be a part of them and his jealousy and rage at the process.

Both Lucy and Maximus are imperfect, young, and quick to screw up. It’s a refreshing path to witness, as the expectation would be the unrelenting hero who could do no wrong and the strong, independent Mary Sue who could handle anything that comes her way. Those sad, sorry tropes, frequently used in film and TV today as part of in-house studio committees that make sure no one is offended, don’t appear to have a place in Fallout and the show shines as a result.

It is excellent storytelling and proper character development, which is always what should be aimed for, but often feels like it isn’t. Fallout allows characters to fail, to struggle, and, most importantly, to grow and change. I know, I know, this sounds nuts when talking about a video game adaptation, but there it is. Fallout gets it. And nobody rose to the top as much as Walton Goggins’ The Ghoul/Cooper Howard, who ultimately acts as the anchor to the past and the present world of Fallout. Goggins is perfectly cast here, playing a struggling actor just before the bombs dropped, only to emerge in the present day as a zombie-like gunslinger for hire.

What easily could’ve been a hammy role is instead an intricately woven one that makes The Ghoul the most complex character in the show. I expected him to be a lame villain, but instead he’s the best representation of the show in human (and non-human) form. Goggins has long since established himself as an amazing actor and The Ghoul is another notch in that post.

Utilizing the music, tone, style, and every other detail imaginable from the game universe, Fallout establishes itself beautifully, adding to the lore of the game, while expanding it with new characters and story that are sure to keep this franchise going for a long time. The action, gore, and violent nature of the wasteland is also captured in full spirit, as well as the cheeky, dark humor that often pervades the games. The creative forces behind Fallout got the assignment and delivered an ace of a show, which I’m now excited to see more of. In fact, I’m going to dust off Fallout 4 and venture out again myself, just to keep the spirit alive until season 2 arrives.

Subscribe now

As a fan of writer/director Alex Garland, Civil War always seemed like an odd one. Garland is no stranger to pushing boundaries or exploring strange material (see: The Beach, Ex Machina, Annihilation, Men), but aside from the purposely “triggering” imagery of the trailer, particularly the Lincoln Memorial getting hit with a Javelin missile, amongst numerous other “flyovers” of buildings burning, while military aircraft hover about, Civil War always felt somewhat foreign to me. I’ll explain, but let’s talk about what this movie actually is, from a narrative standpoint, first and foremost.

Civil War takes place somewhere in the near future, where both California and Texas have seceded from the Union of The United States of America (calling themselves the Western Front) thus starting a “Civil War”. The nameless President is played by none other than Ron Swanson Nick Offerman, and offers no political affiliation in terms of Democrat or Republican. The opening of the film has him giving a speech that eludes to an inevitable victory, laying out how both California and Texas will be welcomed back into the Union once their leadership surrenders.

It seems like the war has been going on for a bit, although not long. Maybe a few years, as there is far too much stability portrayed. In reality, without food, resources, and supply lines for all 50 states, it would be chaos in the streets and there would be a hell of a lot more rioting, looting, and violence if this thing were real. I mean, did you see people going after toilet paper during Covid lockdowns? Now, imagine the country is in an actual Civil War. Yeah. Exactly.

Enter Kirsten Dunst as a renowned photojournalist named Lee who looks perpetually burned out and dispassionate of her trade, even though she’s supposed to be a big shot journo. While in New York, where the WF have seemingly made their way up the East Coast to fight there (man, Cali and Texas have got some serious military resources, eh?), Lee teams up with Joel (Wagner Moura) and Sammy (Stephen McKinley Henderson), as well as an aspiring photojournalist named Jessie, played by Cailee Spaeny, intent on interviewing The President in Washington D.C.

Henderson's Sammy is meant to be the elder journalist who is past his prime but doesn’t know any other way to live. Moura’s Joel is simply obnoxious, playing it cool and jittery as a kind of “war junkie” reporter (although I never saw him actually do any kind of collecting and transmitting of information), while Spaeny shows the most personality as someone trying to find her footing in the trade. Sadly, the group doesn’t create an interesting dynamic at all, with most scenes focused on them talking arbitrarily, looking out the window at “shocking” scenes of America in a zombie apocalypse-like state, complete with a burning building here and there, as well as abandoned military vehicles and equipment scattered about.

You would think they’d discuss something of import, something about journalism, about America, about the war (or war in general), about politics, or anything, but Civil War skirts every single opportunity to say anything…at all. Hell, it could’ve been a great road movie, as it seems to be trying to do, but road movies usually reveal characters and give them arcs. Not so here.

At one point, the group integrates with a squad of WF soldiers battling Federal troops in a city setting. The WF soldiers are, of course, wearing Hawaiian shirts and body armor, looking every bit the mock-up stereotype of right-wing soldier bros, while Federal Forces are in full battle rattle uniform. It stays this way until the end, when suddenly the WF is now in full battle rattle and operating like a standard military unit, not like a bunch of ultra MAGA gun bros storming The Capitol. No reasoning is given, because why would it be? Nothing else makes sense, so why should uniformity?

Throughout each incident, there are black and white still frames shown, capturing what Dunst and Spaeny are shooting. It’s clever enough at first but becomes a bit grating as it progresses. But, hey, this IS about journalism or whatever, right?

Visually, Civil War is a beauty. Garland captures a ton of war-torn footage amidst the idyllic Americana background, which is sure to ruffle the feathers of the easily triggered. Bodies are dumped into a mass grave on a sunny day with blue skies and birds chirping. Smoke billows into the sky in otherwise sprawling cityscapes, and there’s even a sequence where the journalists drive through a forest fire, a scene that seems to exist only to show how pretty the fire sparks look in macro slow motion.

The sound design is also quite good, with plenty of gunshots, explosions, and aircraft zipping by to get the blood pumping of all the action junkies. The problem? Well, the action doesn’t really mean anything. The stakes? The country, I guess, but you don’t even know who to root for. Perhaps that’s also the point, but that’s pretty ambiguous for a movie Garland wants us all to be appalled and shocked by. If we knew anything about the actual conflict outside of the bare-bones basics, then perhaps there would be some sense of anxiety over the outcome. As it is, there’s just nothing to get excited (or upset) over, as it’s just a bunch of war porn.

The scene that most will be talking about is the one with Jesse Plemons as a WF Soldier (or is he? The uniforms could suggest he could be on either side) that’s supposed to be the embodiment of a left-wing fantasy version of an ignorant, racist, gun-toting incel. It’s understood that journalists are killed on site, a directive from the federal government (not the WF), so it already upends the argument that this is some ultra-right-wing fantasy. I mean, the left is supposed to be a supporter of journalists, no? Ah, it’s all too much. Don’t feel bad if you can’t make heads or tails of it, though, as Civil War trades on stereotypes like candy.

The “Plemons Scene” as I’ll call it, has the actor (in see-through red shades, which are surely issued to all troops in uniform in this universe) holding two of our journalist characters hostage, with three more confronting him to let them go. Plemons is good at playing cold and sociopathic (see Breaking Bad), and pulls that one off the shelf for this day’s-work scene that will surely be the most memorable. He quizzes each character where they’re from, shooting those from areas that aren’t WF America (I guess).

It’s meant to be a scene that shocks, creating anxiety and emotion, but we hardly know these characters, let alone Plemons’, so the stakes are once again null and void. After escaping his clutches, everyone is rightfully shaken, but very quickly bounce back as they link up with a massive WF invasion force that is mounting to take over D.C. If you’re scratching your head, don’t worry, it’s not dandruff. Plemons was seemingly a WF soldier who just killed journalists, and now all the journos, including a few more (one of which is Yellowstone’s Jefferson White) are “safe” in WF hands as they accompany them for the final push to take out The President and Washington D.C.

Eh, whatever. Details.

There’s a brief scene where Dunst’s Lee and Spaeny’s Jessie have a heart-to-heart about a character’s death, but there’s no meat to the scene. It’s one of the rare moments that characters speak to one another, but it all comes down to the individual in question dying for what they loved. Or something. There’s no risk taken, no dialogue volunteered, no stances, no personality, no individuality, and no motivation or belief system that defines anyone. The characters we’re meant to root for (the journalists) are NPCs with spoon-fed dialogue you’ve heard before in other films and none of it really vibes with what’s happening onscreen.

The Washington D.C. battle is riddled with gunfire, explosions, tanks, Apache’s, and military boom boom on the nation’s capital, serving as a kind of apocalyptic fever dream of fantasy that I’m sure both Fox News and CNN would kill for. That’s the real “truth” of the film, which I think backfires against what Garland was aiming for: Anything for the story (or picture, in this case), even if it means death. In fact, that seems to be the predominant “lesson” that Lee wants to impart to Jessie’s burgeoning photojournalist: No matter what, keep shooting. Don’t worry about what’s happening or why, just shoot, record, and let everyone else figure it out. That’s pretty much the lesson for Civil War as a film as well.

In terms of military accuracy, outside of equipment and gear, Civil War is nonsense. Scenes of WF troops yelling and screaming commands as they clear a building, mouthing to the journalists to “keep quiet” as they sneak up on enemy soldiers, then turn on flashlights that immediately give away their position. Nonsense.

Apache helicopters fly between buildings which would easily make them crash due to the rotor length, and the overall security forces in D.C. are laughable. The WF, comprised of two states (albeit two of the biggest) is stacked to the gills and completely in sync with military command, well beyond what the fantasy world of this scenario would suggest, which is a bunch of gun-loving, right-wing redneck dickheads in pick up trucks. I’m pretty sure that scenario has already been debunked, particularly when a bunch of dipshits in red hats stormed The Capitol and…put their feet up on Nancy Pelosi’s desk.

The final moments and the fate of one character are downright silly, unearned, and eye-rolling in the inauthentic portrayal of how it would go down. Perhaps if you dig deep enough into that suspension of disbelief you can find a renewed lesson about continuing to shoot when things go bad, but you probably won’t feel anything at all as it happens, since we have no idea who the fuck these people are, what they want, or why they do what they do. You know, basic storytelling shit.

My final take on this comes from my own experience as a soldier dealing with journalists, both in Iraq and Afghanistan. In sum, they are mostly a menace, to themselves and the unit fighting. Having them around is like babysitting, but even that has its limits. Many whine about not having enough food (yeah, welcome to the party, pal), or being too hot, too cold, thirsty, or uncomfortable, and they ask questions or get in the way when lives are at stake. In many ways, they are dangerous in a war scenario.

Now, that isn’t to say that there aren’t great war reporters. Sebastian Junger is one of the best and he’s put himself through the shit and earned his reputation. His documentary Restrepo takes me back so vividly that I can’t ever watch it again. You want realistic and gut-wrenching? Watch Restrepo.

Evan Wright, who embedded himself with a Marine unit during the Iraq invasion is another example of a journalist who jumped in feet first and pulled out one of the most realistic portrayals of modern combat ever put to page (and small screen) with Generation Kill (watch that instead of Civil War). Civil War makes no attempt for the journalists to get to know or interact with the people they’re documenting, and assumes, wrongly, that their presence would just be accepted.

Civil War doesn’t take that approach, though. It wants its “heroes” to be apolitical with literally NOTHING to say about the conflict and just shuffling in with troops in contact everywhere they go, as they happily oblige them and even pull them to cover while in firefights. Again, nonsense. The most realistic part is when the WF breaches the White House and tells the journos to “Stay out of our fucking way.” That’s not an oppression of their First Amendment rights. It’s a warning for their livelihood and safety in a war zone.

While I think Garland is a very talented and unique filmmaker, Civil War feels like a beautiful-looking interpretation of his time spent scrolling through Twitter, watching CNN, and falling down the rabbit hole of American politics, where uninformed loudmouth commentators preach to the masses that its all going to hell in a handbasket thanks to the other side. Like many non-Americans (and actual Americans, at that) who immerse themselves in U.S. politics and bite the hook of dangling bullshit from all sides of the megalomania that is our 24-hour news cycle, Garland is floating on a cloud of hyperbolic media conjecture to craft his “Civil War”, which never takes a side, a stand, or gives a voice that would lead you to think otherwise.

Hey, maybe we’ll live to see another Civil War in America. Probably we won’t. But, for all the folks who want to sit around and wallow in fear over some impending war that will upend their comfy way of life, keep in mind that America is still a baby when it comes to Empires. We’re 248 years old. The Roman Empire lasted a millennium. The Mayan Empire lasted about 3,500 years. Japan has lasted 1,700 years so far. All of those places and many more like it faced mass unrest at various times, ending and evolving into something else entirely at one point. Be it Civil War or something (or many somethings) else, the U.S. will surely face its issues as time marches on. That shouldn’t be scary or even controversial. That’s history. But, if nothing else, perhaps the film will give all the worrywarts of social media something to gripe about for a few days. If Garland’s lazy fantasy were to come true, though, trust me, it’d be a lot more interesting, personal, terrifying, and defining than his movie is.

Update: Given the reaction to the film, I will add this: At least people are talking about it, and perhaps that’s proof enough that it’s an artful endeavor.

Then again, The Hurt Locker, the most inaccurate modern war film to date, won the Oscar for Best Picture. So, perhaps it proves that most, including Hollywood, are completely disconnected from the reality and complexity of the military, war, strategy, tactics, logistics, etc., and that’s without even mentioning the socio-political complexities of this nation.

So, the more things change, the more they stay the same. As Fallout (a much better show and game to invest your time on) says, “War never changes.”

Leave a comment

Subscribe now

Director Denis Villeneuve delivered the preeminent adaptation of author Frank Herbert’s Dune in 2021, but it was mired in an HBO Max debut and a Covid-era theatrical release that impressed the masses critically but failed to make the kind of massive box office waves that typically follow a release of its kind; a sci-fi adaptation of a renowned classic novel with a cast that includes a who’s who of modern A-list stars and character actors made by a filmmaker who has been heralded as one of the best new voices in cinema.

However, the lore of the film has built a strong cult following, much like the original 1984 adaptation from director David Lynch, which had similar star power for its era but failed to move the box-office needle due to a myriad of factors, not the least of which included Lynch’s wild and grotesque style that left many fans and critics baffled. Lynch’s Dune has gone on to become a true cult classic (as covered in Max Evry’s latest book about the making of it, A Masterpiece in Disarray, discussed on my Repackaged Wisdom podcast), and kept the fires burning long enough for Villeneuve to throw his hat into the ring.

Dune: Part 2 was greenlit days after the first film’s release, which allowed many cinephiles to breathe a sigh of relief seeing as the first film only covered half of Herbert’s famed novel. Knowing that the franchise would continue to cover at least the first novel was reassuring (there are 28 books in total thus far, with only the first six being written by Herbert before his passing). Now that Dune: Part 2 has been released and witnessed by those hungering for more “spice” it’s become evident that Villeneuve (and WB by proxy) have no plans to let the two-film adaptation serve as a completed saga, but rather the birth of a new cinematic universe.

Subscribe now

This is both a good and bad thing for Dune: Part 2, which is an astonishing sci-fi film, but not on its own. The film is completely reliant on the events of the first film for anything to make sense to the average viewer, which is already asking a lot when it comes to the outlandish, cerebral, and wild aspects of the universe it exists in. Dune: Part 2 is more like the second part of a whole, much like Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2. Released separately, the two films are ultimately one film split into two (initially, Tarantino planned a one-film release, before breaking it apart).

If you look at a film series like The Terminator or The Matrix, they can easily be one-and-done films, but both had a series of sequels that tied much closer together than that first release. Dune, as it stands, is not in that category, but that doesn’t mean both films aren’t significant. They absolutely are, but I think that calling one better than the other is like saying the first half (or second half for that matter) of the book is better than the other. It’s all still the same book, and, in this case, the same movie.

With that said, Dune: Part 2 elevates everything that was set up in the first film, while still adhering to the formula and style that Villeneuve created. With the basic setup in place, we are now thrust deeper into the politics, maneuvering, and warfare that follows the upheaval of Dune: Part 1. Paul Atreides (Timothee Chalamet) and his mother, Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson) find themselves ensnared in survival mode, living with the native people of Arrakis (The Fremen), led by Stilgar (Javier Bardem). However, Paul and Lady Jessica bring with them the gift and curse of prophecy, as both have destinies to be proven, which will change the state of their universe forever. I mean, that’s how these things go, right?

Subscribe now

Dune: Part 2 takes its time in setting things up, but faces the same kind of momentum issues that Lynch’s version did, leaning into montage and expositional voiceover to do some of the heavy lifting when the going gets tough. If nothing else, it cuts Lynch’s version a little slack in those departments, which were heavily criticized upon its release. Herbert, it appears, is not an easy author to adapt by anyone. Still, most will agree that Villeneuve has executed the more successful version, which is also his most commercial film to date. His work on another sequel, Blade Runner 2049, is deeply adored, even if it flopped at the box office and was more brainy than action-y. His other sci-fi adaptation, Arrival, had similar praise but was also a more cerebral journey. Even his thriller Sicario was light on action and heavy on mood.

That’s not the case with Dune: Part 2. Rocket launchers, lasers, knife fights, sword fights, and more abound, with nuclear weapons also making an explosive appearance that delivers far more fiery punch than Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer, which is literally about the making of such a thing. It’s hard to call Dune: Part 2 rousing, at least in a traditional sense, as the film can’t help but carry a much darker tone than, say, something like Star Wars. Paul’s ascension through the Fremen as the “chosen one” isn’t a cheerful one, and he serves as a reluctant leader who evolves into one who accepts his fate implicitly after a sip of some sandworm blood.

This is one of the aspects that makes Dune: Part 2 stand out from similar sci-fi franchises. It’s mired in family tragedy, trauma, lies, deceit, and the kind of political maneuvering that you can dissect on The Artist Formerly Known as Twitter on a daily basis. None of it is black and white, and even as Paul, Lady Jessica, and Josh Brolin’s Gurney Halleck get their ultimate revenge for the attack on House Atreides, as well as the death of their Duke (Oscar Issac), it can’t help but feel bittersweet. What do they become in the wake of said revenge? Only Dune: Part 3 (and 4, 5, 6, etc.) will tell (and it’s a very odd, bleak journey).

Subscribe now

Performance-wise, Dune: Part 2 is stacked with talent. Chalamet, Zendaya (as Chani), Bardem, Brolin, and Ferguson are joined by newcomers to the series Christopher Walken as The Emperor, Florence Pugh as his daughter, Princess Irulan, and Lea Seydoux as Lady Margot Fenring. On the Harkonnen side, Stellen Skarsgard is back as The Baron, with Dave Bautista returning as his sadistic nephew Beast Rabban, both of whom make deliciously fun and evil antagonists. However, everyone in the film is outshined by Austin Butler as Feyd-Rautha, a twisted, psychotic, and devilishly charming monster who slits the throats of his servants to test the strength of a knife and takes absolute pleasure in torturing his enemies.

Butler, who has already made waves in films like Once Upon A Time In Hollywood, Elvis, and Masters of the Air, is an absolute gem of a pick for the role of Feyd, which was stunt-casted in Lynch’s version with singer Sting. Butler brings a diabolical menace to the character of Feyd who’s less of a laughing madman and more of a sinister and conniving monster. Butler oozes fear and his scratchy voice and mannerisms make him every bit as terrifying and unpredictable as The Baron. In the wake of every comic-book movie villain and big bad coming up short, Butler’s Feyd is one for the record books.

Dune: Part 2 may be a darker kind of Star Wars when it’s all boiled down, but its uniqueness and visionary style make it a much better version than anything Lucasfilm has churned out since George Lucas threw in the towel. The spectacle put on display, particularly in the last half hour, is nothing short of an IMAX-lover’s dream, complete with massive explosions, charging armies, fist-pumping revenge, a vicious knife fight, and Fremen riding sandworms into battle like chariots of the gods. Although it is ultimately the start of an even darker turn in the books (those who have read beyond Dune will know what I’m talking about), it stands as a great cinematic start to the Dune franchise, which may or may not continue depending on box office and the desire of Villeneuve to return. If it continues without him, one will have to wonder if that makes it worse off, given how much of the director’s signature is on it.

Subscribe now

While many critics call Dune: Part 2 a masterpiece or second coming of Christ (pun fully intended), I think it falls somewhere short of that, but still a magnificent spectacle full of epic filmmaking at its best. As with most films that strike a chord with critics, the wave of hyperbole with Dune: Part 2 is very real, with click-bait headlines fishing for a quote in a TV spot, some calling it the “best sci-fi film of the decade”. I mean, look, it’s really damn good, but it’s 2024 for fucks sake, we still have six more years of movies to decide if that statement is objectively true.

Where Dune: Part 2 falls short for me is in the inconsistent pacing, which teeters back and forth with long, drawn-out sequences mixed in with montages that make it difficult to discern how much time is passing between scenes. Perhaps a longer cut will help in that area if that ends up being something that Villeneuve pursues, despite saying he has no intention of releasing one for either film.

The other area that I feel both Dune: Part 1 and Part 2 fall short is the toned-down violence and gore. Lynch pursued some particularly grotesque and freaky aspects with his Dune film, but Villeneuve veers away from it altogether, to the point that it becomes unbelievable, even in the wild world it’s set in. Men are routinely put to the knife or sword, blown to bits, crushed, and beaten with nary a drop of blood. It’s almost as if his Dune films are made-for-TV edits when it comes to the portrayal of violence.

Subscribe now

While it’s understandable that the series would pursue a PG-13, the authenticity of the world it inhabits is lessened tremendously when men are savagely cut down, but don’t seem to bleed at all. When throats are slit it’s done quickly and carried along with sound effects, rather than the visual punch that would greatly increase the emotional and visceral reaction to violence in the film. When it comes to war and the portrayal of it, there’s nothing more annoying than shying away from the reality of its impact, goofy sci-fi or not. Even Anakin Skywalker got chopped up and burned alive in a Star Wars movie.

Still, I’m able to look past my criticisms and recognize Dune: Part 2 for what it is; a refined visual treat that feels like the birth of a new franchise, thanks largely to the imagination of a masterful filmmaker and a cast that lends credibility and presence in spades. All involved have shaped something special with Dune and if the adaptations continue under their hands then we’re in for a treat (or not, as things just get weird as hell after the first book). If not, we still have a two-part film that will stand among the best sci-fi adaptations of all time and that’s more than enough spice to satisfy me.

Leave a comment

Sundance 2024 is a wrap and I’m proud to say that I caught more films than ever before. Certainly, living in Utah and being just a 40-minute drive from Park City was a big help for the in-person screenings, so there’s that, but I did make a big effort to try and catch as much as possible since I’m covering for this publication (Way of the Shirey) and my YouTube channel (Arctic Ninja Network). It makes a big difference when you just have to answer to yourself and I did hold myself to a strict standard.

While this will be a quick wrap-up of reviews, there will be one more surprise piece that I was able to cull from Sundance, which will be up later this week. Until then, enjoy the last of my reviews and check out my Top 5 Faves list at the end!

Subscribe now

Little Death

Directed by: Jack Begert

Written by: Jack Begert and Dani Goffstein

Starring: David Schwimmer, Jena Malone, Angela Sarafyan, Gabby Hoffmann

Little Death is one part excellent film and one part “what the fuck happened?” It’s a split narrative that starts off with David Schwimmer as a struggling TV writer who is about to finance his first feature (a biographical indie), but hits a snag when he is told that the financing is contingent on him changing the protagonist of his script from a white male (IE himself) to a female.

It was here that I thought we’d be deep-diving into the woke-era bullshittery of Hollywood, where white males are now persona non grata in any kind of lead role unless they’re villains, but the film takes a sudden shift, focusing on two different characters who are loosely tied to Schwimmers, derailing from the opportunity to give us a modern-day commentary on the state of the industry. They had me there, but lost me at the narrative U-Turn.

Still, the fact that they’d even bring that to light shows the cracks in the DEI armor that’s been falling apart of late, and I really would’ve loved to have seen an exploration of that, which could’ve tackled the pros, cons, and general state of things in a humorous and gonzo way. I say gonzo, because Little Death employs some nightmarish (and humorous) sequences of AI dream sequences that are intensely weird and disturbing. Some may bemoan the use of AI, which is fair, but it works well here, even if obvious.

Schwimmer is great in his role, which is sadly far too small by the time we hit the narrative switch, and Jena Malone is proving to be a strong presence on the indie scene of late, especially with her other Sundance entry this year, Love Lies Bleeding. Little Death shows a lot of promise, and although it follows a path I wish it hadn’t, there’s a lot of weird shit here that will hold your attention.

Exhibiting Forgiveness

Written & Directed by: Titus Kaphar

Starring: André Holland, John Earl Jelks, Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, Andra Day, and Ian Foreman

If you’re looking to sit down and enjoy a feel-good drama about forgiveness, well, I don’t recommend Exhibiting Forgiveness. No, wait! That doesn’t mean I don’t recommend Exhibiting Forgiveness, just that you aren’t going to feel warm and fuzzy when it’s over. By all accounts, this is one of the most powerful movies to debut at Sundance this year, but it’s a tough watch, especially if you’re someone who has endured any kind of abuse or trauma from a loved one. If anything, this is going to trigger some tough memories, but maybe that’s the point of the film.

Exhibiting Forgiveness follows Holland’s Tarrell, an artist married to a musician (Day), who is doing his best to raise their son in a far more privileged and loving environment than he endured as a child. Tarrell suffered at the hands of his drug-abusing father, La’Ron (Jelks), who was violent and oppressive against him and his mother (Ellis-Taylor), leading to their separation. Raised by his mother, Tarrell carries the wound of his father around with him, which is brought to the surface when he reemerges into his life, seemingly sober, having found God after a long bought of homelessness.

What follows is a journey of confrontation and revisitation, as we watch Tarrell wrestle with his deep-seated hatred for his father, while attempting to understand what made him who he was. La’Ron seeks forgiveness from Tarrell, owning up to his mistakes, but also making excuses for them, which is where they diverge. Tarrell is too wounded to simply forgive and forget and La’Ron is too proud to simply say that he’s sorry and beg for forgiveness. They are at an emotional impasse, with neither of them willing to give an inch until tragedy strikes, forcing them both to pull back the curtain on their vulnerabilities.

The film jumps between the present day and flashback, showing a young Tarrell (Foreman) as he is emotionally and physically abused by his father, highlighting the “why” of his disdain, but also highlighting the struggle of La’Ron as an addict who was raised in a way that didn’t show him any better.

Exhibiting Forgiveness is a rough watch, more so on an emotional level than anything else, and it shines a light on the trauma of abuse, loss, grief, and redemption. That’s a lot to unpack, but it’s done exceptionally well with some poignant dialogue and two outstanding performances by Holland and Jelks that resonate as a stirring and powerful commentary on fathers and sons, especially those that were forged out of suffering.

A Real Pain

Written and Directed by: Jesse Eisenberg

Starring: Kieran Culkin, Jesse Eisenberg, Jennifer Grey, Will Sharpe, Daniel Oreskes, Kurt Egyiawan, and Liza Sadovy

After last year’s lackluster feature directorial debut of When You’re Done Saving The World at last year’s Sundance, Jesse Eisenberg bounces back nicely with A Real Pain, which focuses on character above all else, both to its credit and its loss. Narratively, A Real Pain is especially simple, following two Jewish cousins (Eisenberg and Culkin) who reunite to take a trip to Poland to reconnect with their roots after the death of their grandmother, who was a holocaust survivor.

That may seem like a heavy premise and it could’ve been if handled differently, but A Real Pain is more comedy than drama, but in a far more nuanced way that’s led almost entirely by the stellar performance by Culkin. It’s amazing to see how much Culkin has grown, following in his brother’s footsteps as a child actor and becoming a kind of character actor in projects like Scott Pilgrim vs. The World and HBO’s Succession (for which he just won a Golden Globe). I can’t imagine anyone would’ve taken bets on his rise to the top, but here we are.

Culkin’s character, Benji, is an aloof yet passionate persona, who is annoying, obnoxious, and self-righteous, but also self-deprecating, compassionate, and endearing. He’s a walking conundrum and he infects everyone around him in all the good and bad ways. His every interaction with those around him sparks a moment where you think he’ll burn every bridge around him, yet he’s actually building them. It’s a fascinating thing to watch and Culkin executes it with insufferable charm. You want to hate this guy, but you can’t help but love him, which is exactly how things play out throughout their trip.

By the end of this long journey through their family history, the two main characters clash, but can never stay at odds with one another. A trip to a concentration camp is a moving and harrowing sequence, and it reflects just how varied the reactions can be when faced with such a horrific reality. Both David (Eisenberg) and Benji feel it on different levels, but walk away with an appreciation they couldn’t have had otherwise.

A Real Pain is beautifully shot and deftly directed, but Culkin is the whole show and I almost wonder if his character belongs in a better movie. Not that A Real Pain is a bad one. It’s just devoid of stakes, taking a casual stroll through the narrative while letting the actors, particularly Culkin, reel you in. If nothing else, this is another check on the list for Culkin, showing that he’s an actor to contend with and one we’ll likely see accepting golden trophies for a long time to come.

Subscribe now

Luther: Never Too Much

Directed by: Dawn Porter

I wish I could say I was well-versed in the discography of Luther Vandross, but his era just escaped my music journey. Sure, I knew who he was and could identify a few of his songs if they came on the radio, but it just wasn’t my jam when he was at the peak of his career. That said, Vandross’ legacy is a bold one, and Luther: Never Too Much shines a light on that, as well as the tragedy that was his life.

Luther tracks the rising career of Vandross, who began as a backup singer for a multitude of artists before he was “fired” to force him to record his own album, which he did, launching his solo career that would last for decades. Unfortunately, Vandross’ success was plagued by tragedy, including a life-altering car crash, a food addiction, and what many believe to be repressed sexuality as a gay man.

Vandross struggled with his weight and diabetes diagnosis, which followed him around throughout his career. It was a constant battle from a man who seemed to want to live privately, while sharing his musical gift with the world, something that can often conflict with those in the limelight. The Luther documentary tracks all of this, featuring interviews from the likes of Dionne Warwick, Mariah Carey, Jamie Foxx, Richard Marx, Patti LaBelle, and Roberta Flack, all of whom had a deep love and appreciation for the man whose voice was so powerful, but suffered in silence.

In The Summers

Written & Directed by: Alessandra Lacorazza Samudio

Starring: Residente, Sasha Calle, Lio Mehiel, Leslie Grace, Emma Ramos

As someone who spent his summers as a child visiting his father, I can relate to In The Summers on many levels. The film follows Vicente, a divorced father who has custody of his two daughters, Eva and Violete, over the summers. We watch them bond and suffer throughout the course of five years, each year marked by a Roman numeral chapter in the film, trading out actresses halfway through to show their growth.

There’s a sense of anxious dread in the film, which is common in dramatic indie fare, but it also has a sense of innocence and playfulness to balance things out. It’s very similar in tone and style to Richard Linklater’s Boyhood, which benefitted from being shot over many years with the same cast (that’s not the case here). Vicente (played by rapper Residente) at first seems like a simple-minded thug, but he’s revealed to be an exceptionally smart and wise man, albeit one with a temper, propensity for drugs and alcohol, and recklessness when it comes to emotions.

The girls begin as innocent children who form an unbreakable bond, even as their paths diverge. Eva is the pretty, compassionate one, while Violeta is more of a tomboy with a rebellious spirit. During one of the visits, the trio is involved in a car crash that leaves you thinking that one of the girls might be dead. She reappears later, but you can understand what kept her away. It’s a subtle detail and it makes sense given the circumstances.

Each chapter brings new problems and issues, including a Vicente’s newborn daughter, relationships with friends and neighbors, and the loss of innocence that has both characters losing their virginity, one to a boy and one to a girl. Each of these is handled in a realistic way, which isn’t to say it’s good or bad, just realistic. The Flash’s Supergirl, Sasha Calle, plays the older Eva, while the canceled Batgirl Leslie Grace shows up later on as well, creating a DC reunion of sorts. Lio Mehiel plays the older Violeta, a fitting actor to take on the part given their journey.

In the Summers isn’t the most moving film I’ve ever seen, but I appreciate the angle it takes, as I can most certainly relate on my own level. Summer visitation with a parent is a very real and persistent thing for a lot of families and it’s nice to see it told in such a nuanced way. It’s not a dismal portrait of family abuse, nor is it a rosy picture of how great it can all be. It’s a balanced, realistic, and engaging portrait that falls in the middle, which is likely where most people experience such a thing.

Daughters

Directed by: Angela Patton & Natalie Rae

Daughters is a devastating, beautiful, and tragic portrait of institutional life, particularly for incarcerated fathers with daughters. The documentary follows a group of fathers at a Washington D.C. prison who are granted the opportunity to take part in a Daddy Daughter Dance, which is part of a fatherhood program within the prison.

Following along with the men as they take part in a 10-week preparation program for the dance, we also meet their daughters and, by extension, their wives and girlfriends. Seeing these young girls deal with the absence of their father in their lives is heartbreaking to say the least, especially seeing how innocent and confused they are over the scenario they are faced with. None of them act as if it was always going to be this way, but all of them feel the wound of that loss in different ways.

One girl simply loves her father and is counting down the years until he is free. Another girl is resentful of the motherly role she has to take on due to her father’s absence, while another becomes suicidal over it. It’s a complex set of emotions from each girl in that situation, which is tracked side-by-side with their father in prison, each of them confessing their fears and regrets to their counselor in the lead-up to the dance.

When the day of the dance arrives you can feel the anticipation, anxiety, and hope that it could all be beautiful, but it could also be a disaster. You want so much for each daddy-daughter duo to make the most of the opportunity, but the weight of it all is so heavy that you can’t help but contemplate the worst. The dance itself is full of all of the things you’d expect and others you don’t, making for a revealing look into an experimental program that has proven to be a detriment to repeat offenders, particularly those with kids.

Daughters goes the extra mile in revisiting the families we’ve come to know over the years, sometimes with ruinous results, particularly when a sentence is lengthened. You feel the disappointment like a wound, but at the same time, the reason that the father is in prison still lingers. In the end, their crime put them behind bars and a price must be paid, but what Daughters reveals more than anything is the price that’s also paid by the family of an offender. In the end, the families are serving the same time, just outside of prison, and it drives a divide between them and their parent.

While there is little hope for some of these families, the Daddy Daughter program proves to be the saving grace for others, particularly one man who is released and embraces life with his family. It’s a hopeful and beautiful transition, while others are less so. Daughters doesn’t take a hard stance on these types of programs, nor does it shy away from the fact that these men did bad things to end up where they are. Instead, Daughters lays bare the reality of the situation and unveils not only how far the ramifications go, but also provides a potential solution when offenders are shown what they’ve left behind. Powerful. Moving. Thought-provoking, Daughters shows the power and weight of the documentary format.

With that, here are my Top 5 films of Sundance 2024, which enter this list by way of entertainment, impact, performance, and artistry:

1. Love Lies Bleeding

2. Daughters

3. In A Violent Nature

4. Exhibiting Forgiveness

5. A Real Pain

That’s it for Sundance 2024 reviews! There’s still one more piece of Sundance content on the way that I think many of you will enjoy, but other than that it’s a wrap! Will I be back for 2025? Who the hell knows, but I’ll say this has been the best year for me thus far and I’m hopeful that 2025 will regain the momentum lost between Covid and the Actor’s strike, ushering in an even better batch of films.

Thanks, as always, for reading!

Leave a comment

In A Violent Nature

Written and Directed by: Chris Nash

Starring: Ry Barrett, Reece Presley, Andrea Pavlovic, Cameron Love, Liam Leone, Charlotte Creaghan, Sam Roulston, Timothy Paul McCarthy

At this point, we’re all well accustomed to the slasher genre and what it entails. From Jason in Friday the 13th to Michael Myers in Halloween to Ghost Face in Scream and Beyond. Countless maniacal killers are roaming through the cinematic halls, frequently portrayed as relentless stalkers who use edged weapons and household items to butcher their victims, which are usually a bunch of mouthy, arrogant, or otherwise obnoxious characters (usually teens).

We know the tropes, from the slow-and-steady stalk of their prey as the hapless victims run, scream, trip, fall, and meet their fate while the determined villain casually reaches them to dish out their dose of creative murder. It’s a finely tuned formula and up until now, we’ve seen it all play out from the perspective of the protagonists or victims. In A Violent Nature, the first outing for director Chris Nash seeks to flip the script by showing the entire film from the perspective of the killer, making for an interesting, compelling, and monotonous journey that is a fascinating exploration, but also evidence that the old formula works for a reason.

Nash takes a very Terrence Malick approach to In A Violent Nature, letting shots linger for way longer than is needed while allowing voices to carry and guide a scene from afar, leaving the subject to kind of wander without having a say. This is the literal case for In A Violent Nature, as the main villain, the aptly named “Johnny”, spends the vast majority of the film traipsing through the woods, the camera following behind, much like a 3rd-person videogame, as he wanders from one victim to the next.

Subscribe now

There’s a backstory given to Johnny, which is very Jason Voorhees-esque, but far sillier when told out loud. The “origin” nearly took me out of the film as it was so goofy and nonsensical. But, in the end, it was enough for me to stay invested, watching Johnny slowly stomp through the woods, wondering where he’ll end up and who he’ll kill next (and how). The issue is that even though this is an entirely new look at the genre, it ends up being more like Friday the 13th: Jason Goes On A Hike, rather than a super interesting and intricate journey into the mind and motives of the killer.

The kills are brutal, no doubt, although I feel like Terrifier 2 has set the bar for this type of gore and it’s hard to top. That said, In A Violent Nature features one of the most insane and inventive kills ever put to film and it’s worth watching the movie just to see it. How Nash even conceived of it seems like it was made up on a dare to imagine the wildest slasher kill he could think of. The director certainly delivers are far more brutal, convincing, and creative killer than many of the recent cinematic stalkers, including Jason himself in his last outing, so there’s something to be said for that.

The victims of the story, a typical bunch of early 20s singles, are all up to par for the genre, with each of them meeting their fate in a grisly fashion, some more shocking than others. When not walking endlessly through the woods for five minutes at a time, Johnny going to work is pretty fun and fucked up for the genre, although not always as horrific as you might think. That may just be a problem with modern audiences, though, as we’re exceptionally desensitized to seeing violence onscreen. Hell, you see worse on the news these days.

However, as a new, innovative take on the genre, In A Violent Nature opens up the doors to continue this trend, which could very well be what the genre needs to amp things up. There’s something reliable (and frequently more interesting) about protagonists that are “like us” and that have other issues going on besides trying to survive a supernatural stalker while visiting a cabin in the woods, but showing the perspective of the villain makes for an interesting take, so long as they do more than just walk through the woods.

Subscribe now

Unfortunately, that’s about all Johnny does, so there’s not much to work with, but anyone looking to pick up the concept and expand it could certainly take the next leap that In A Violent Nature sets up. The film delivers enough blood and gore to make it a solid entry in the long resume of slasher films, but it’s way too long and way too stripped down to be a classic. The ending goes on and on with one of the biggest anti-climatic teases I’ve endured in a long time, holding the audience hostage to the end credits when it should’ve rolled them ten minutes prior.

For fans of the genre and those looking to see a new take on the genre, I recommend giving In A Violent Nature a look (which will be on Shudder), as it’s a nice departure, even if a lot of it is spent following a madman aimlessly through the forest.

Leave a comment

Love Lies Bleeding

Directed by: Rose Glass

Written by: Rose Glass and Weronika Tofilska

Starring: Kristen Stewart, Katy O’Brian, Ed Harris, Dave Franco, Jena Malone, Anna Baryshnikov

You’ve likely seen the trailer for Love Lies Bleeding and just being an A24 release lets you know that you’re in for a wild ride. How wild is always up in the air, as it could scale from Under The Skin to Lady Bird to Moonlight to Eighth Grade to Room to Midsommar to Uncut Gems to Everything, Everywhere All At Once to The Iron Claw and beyond. I love that A24 has emerged as a kind of new-wave version of Miramax, which used to bring bold, innovative, and provocative indies to the masses, but is now a shadow of its former self. A24 is the new king of indie cinema, which is entering a kind of golden era that we haven’t seen in some time.

As superhero movies step back to take a much-needed break in 2024 (minus Deadpool 3 and Joker 2), A24 has an opportunity to shine a light on some indie films without spandex, capes, or superpowers, starting with Love Lies Bleeding. But, is this a feather in the cap for the studio or something that will fizzle when released to the masses?

Love Lies Bleeding is directed by Rose Glass (Saint Maud) and stars Kristen Stewart as Lou, a lesbian gym manager with a checkered past who falls hard for transient bodybuilder Jackie (The Mandalorian’s Katy O’Brian), who ushers in a world of trouble for the pair, made all the worse by Lou’s gun-running father, Lou Sr. (Ed Harris, sporting the most wicked hairstyle ever for the actor).

Subscribe now

Glass stages a moody, noirish atmosphere for Love Lies Bleeding from the start, (which almost feels like the A24 house style at this point), establishing a 1989 setting in Kentucky, where everyone has bad haircuts, bad teeth, and awful style. (Man, did we all really look that terrible back then?) The ominous, synth-style score by Clint Mansell keeps the tone properly eerie and unpredictable as we’re introduced to Lou’s sister, Beth (Jena Malone) and her abusive husband, JJ (Dave Franco), leading to the main plot that drives the film.

Stewart comes off as, well, Stewart. She’s a strong actress, but with Love Lies Bleeding it feels like she’s playing the same person she presents to the public; aloof, moody, but not without charm. You’ll have to take beauty off of the chart for this one, however, as Lou operates firmly in tomboy territory with shorn, shaggy hair, baggy clothes, and a rough presence. This is as far away from Bella Swan as you can get.

O’Brian’s Jackie, on the other hand, presents a whole other persona. Strong, ripped, beautiful, and with a more revealing style (gym attire is the outfit du jour here). However, upon meeting and hooking up with Lou, who promptly injects Jackie with tren (aka steroids) in her buttock the first night they meet, ends up kickstarting a transformation that’s literally Hulk-like, serving as a metaphorical show of her growing love for Stewart, as well as what she will do to protect it.

Franco is appropriately scummy and serves his purpose, while Malone does the same as an abused housewife who doesn’t see herself as abused. Harris, on the other hand, lends a great deal of credibility and presence to the film, looking like some kind of cro-magnon beast of a man mixed with a Musashi-era samurai, complete with a mane of hair past his shoulders and a sheer dome on top. The lines in Harris’ face tell a story all their own and his gravelly voice is like a rumble of foreboding every time he speaks. Making him the final boss of any crime film in this form is Grade A casting and he’s almost utilized to the fullest here.

I say almost, because buried within the complex style of Love Lies Bleeding is the most simple of plots, which finds Lou and Jackie trying to cover up a murder, all the while navigating the rush of emotion that comes with falling in love. The anxious energy is ever-present, which is essential to a film like this, but it’s never as clever or exciting as it could be, settling for a more stripped-down narrative that plays more with emotion than storytelling, almost as if the details would just get in the way.

Still, the style, performances, and boldness make up for the storytelling and plot issues with Love Lies Bleeding, making for a perfect addition to the A24 line-up, as well as the indie film genre. There’s sudden, shocking violence, trippy, surreal visuals, raw, unadulterated sex, dark, uncomfortable humor, and a general sense of tension that doesn’t let up until the very end, where the film goes into some very meta realms. If none of that tickles your fancy, then Love Lies Bleeding isn’t for you. If you’re tickled, then get ready for a wild ride that may not be an instant classic, but it’s something you’ll certainly talk about on the ride home.

Leave a comment

Devo

Directed by: Chris Smith

Starring: Mark Mothersbaugh

I didn’t want to see Devo, but Chris Bumbray loves a good music documentary and I wanted to catch a movie with my pal. So, I got some popcorn and we sat down to watch a documentary about the band with the weird hats that are best known for the song “Whip it.” Up until that point, that’s about all I knew about Devo. By the end of the doc, I had a whole origin story and a new appreciation for the quirky band who played such a huge role in the MTV music video culture of the 1980s.

Founded by Mark and Bob Mothersbaugh, Bob Lewis, Gerald and Bob Casale, with a rotation of members throughout the years. Devo was an eclectic, odd, and performative group of artists who collided on the campus of Kent State University, during the time of the Vietnam War protests that eventually led to the infamous massacre in 1970. As a bunch of idealistic artists, the group clung to ideas of de-evolution, which supposes that early man evolved from cannibalistic apes that ate the brains of other apes to become human. This led to their name, Devo, which ultimately stands for De-evolution. The more you know.

The documentary unfolds in a chaotic style, narrated primarily by Mothersbaugh, with interviews collected from other members throughout the years, and gives an expansive portrait of the group’s formation, ideals, and development into a globe-spanning name. What’s most interesting is watching how this group of idealists who wanted to change the world became the very thing they were pushing back against. And, it’s not lost on them by any means.

Subscribe now

On one hand, you find yourself cheering for Devo to be this buck-the-trend band that spits in the face of capitalism and “the man”, etc., but at the same time you’re cheering for them to be a success, to make money, and to become a worldwide sensation. Ultimately, it reveals the irony that achieving their goal means achieving what they didn’t want to put into the world to begin with, which is another band that churns out one album after another, eventually getting lost in the charts, rather than pursuing the goal of making change.

Throughout the doc we are shown old interviews from a variety of talk shows and MTV visits where the band, seemingly in character (it’s difficult to know what’s serious and what’s satire) are dismissive of traditional music, citing how it has nothing to say, while their own music is either too cryptic or too on-the-nose. It’s an interesting compare and contrast and reveals Devo as a perplexing, innovative, ironic, and fascinating group that struggled with the desire to see the world become a better place through their music, while also profiting and making a living from it. In the end, they were much like the loud protesters that you see marching in the streets, holding up signs, wearing costumes, and making a lot of noise, before disappearing from the streets, leaving a trail of their presence behind them.

I don’t mean that as a knock against Devo at all, but rather further evidence of their complexity as a group, as demonstrated in the doc. There’s certainly more to unpack from the group, and their post-Devo career as composers is covered too briefly in the end. Mothersbaugh has composed scores for multiple feature films, including The Life Aquatic, The Royal Tenenbaums, Thor: Ragnarok, Cocaine Bear, Rugrats, and many, many more, creating an entire second career that arguably has eclipsed his work with Devo, becoming an industry go-to in Hollywood.

Devo reminded me of the Nirvana doc, Montage of Heck, which is by far my favorite band-themed documentary of all time, as it sheds light on things you likely were unaware of while highlighting the thing that matters the most for something like this: the music. If nothing else, Devo will have you diving back into their discography with a new appreciation for their work and possibly discovering some of their older work anew, ironically paying a big music conglomerate to listen to it (unless you’re a rebel and torrent it, which makes it even more ironic).

Leave a comment

Krazy House

Written & Directed by: Steffen Haars and Flip Van der Kuil

Starring: Nick Frost, Alicia Silverstone, Kevin Connolly, Gaite Jansen, Walt Klink, Jan Bijvoet, Chris Peters, and Matti Stooker

You know how you always hear about movies playing at film festivals where people start to walk out? Well, I didn’t witness that with Krazy House. Okay, well, the reason I didn’t is because I showed up just before it started and had to sit in the very front of the theater, looking under the skirt of the screen the entire time. But, that doesn’t mean walkouts didn’t happen. They did. A lot. By the time I got up to leave, having stayed the whole time, there were plenty of seats open in what began as a packed house.

That tells you a lot about Krazy House right there, and before you think, “Good, I want to see a movie that people walked out of!” think again. Some movies will test your limits in the best ways (Terrifier 2 comes to mind), while others are akin to being strapped down to a chair with your eyeballs peeled open like Alex from A Clockwork Orange, screaming to be set free from the sewage polluting your eyeballs.

I wouldn’t call Krazy House “sewage” per se, but it’s definitely a cinema skidmark. Directed by Dutch filmmakers Steffen Haars and Flip Van der Kuil who have had tremendous success in their native land with their New Kids franchise, Krazy House is an attempt to bring their mad-cap, bad-haircut, ultraviolent sensibilities stateside. Unfortunately, it’s so incessantly juvenile, half-baked, and ludicrous that it never registers as fun or shocking.

Subscribe now

The concept is that it takes a traditional American sitcom and turns it on its ass halfway through, attempting to serve as a fourth-wall-breaking narrative that’s neither original nor inventive. Frost is woefully miscast as a do-gooder dad who wears a bike helmet and sandals with brushes on the bottom, (as well as a Jesus-themed sweater) who is raising his two teenage kids, Sarah (Jansen) and Adam (Klink), and navigating an obnoxious marital relationship with his workaholic wife, Eva (Silverstone).

Trouble ensues when some Russian repairmen, a father (Bijvoet) and his two sons (Peters and Stooker), show up to “fix” a water leak in the house and end up spending many days in the home tearing it up, obviously looking for something more than a leak in the pipes. What unfolds is an exercise in patience and endurance, as the film ever-so-slowly unravels into bloody chaos, not in an entertaining way that pushes limits, but rather in a juvenile half-baked way that feels like a joke made up on the day, rather than a fleshed-out concept that serves a purpose.

Frost’s character is a Bible-thumping Christian (his last name is even Christian) and throughout the film, he has visions of Jesus (Entourage’s Connelly) who gives dismissive advice to the struggling acolyte, who is fighting his recurring urge to “kill them all”. The Christianity jabs come swift and relentless, but it all reeks of low-hanging fruit, rather than something profound. It’s probably the only movie you’ll ever hear someone say, “Fuck you, Jesus Christ” before driving a stake through his head, so there’s that. For me, it was an eye-roll. That’s not shocking. As a Christian myself, I’m not even offended. It’s just lazy.

Subscribe now

What hurts Krazy House is that they let the sitcom aspect linger for far too long. And by far too long, I’m talking 40 minutes. That’s 40 minutes of nothing happening at all, minus watching Frost’s cringe performance as a Southern-accented stereotype tries to navigate a family that seemingly loathes him. The filmmakers have stated that they wanted to take an American sitcom and really “fuck it up” with Krazy House, but others have done it better long before they showed up, with Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers being the gold standard.

By the time the format has switched to a traditional film (still set within the home), the “crazy” of the film just isn’t crazy enough. Maybe that says something about how desensitized I am, but if Krazy House wanted to make an impact with shock and awe, they mistook those things for stupidity and monotony. You’ve seen all they have to offer before, so it begs the question: why even attempt it if you don’t have anything new to say?

What you can expect: A green alien that shows up when smoking meth, a mumified baby in a bag of money, making out with a mumified woman, a cop getting his head blown completely off, a golden retriever getting her head blown completely off, a Lady and the Tramp sausage moment, a burnt penis on a grill, and a girl “giving birth” to a giant wad of gum. You’d be better off watching The Toxic Avenger or Terrifier 2 if you’re looking for grisly shocks and uncomfortable humor, because Krazy House is ultimately a trip down been-there-done-that lane. Then again, maybe this review makes you just curious enough to see it for yourself. If so, make sure to keep a tally of how long you last.

Leave a comment

It was an interesting year of entertainment in 2023 and I saw a lot of it. It would be impossible for me to catch everything, so like any year-end review this will be unequivocally what “I” felt was the best/worst/interesting, etc. I’ve grown weary over the years of having a best-of and worst-of list, so this year I’m just noting the things I watched that affected me one way or another, but it’s all my own opinion and in no way am I intending this to be some kind of authoritative voice that anyone should swear to.

This is one fan’s take on a slew of art and entertainment, so let’s proceed as such, shall we? Cool. The following is a roster of what I feel were the more impactful films that kept my attention, challenged me, or even things I didn’t care for. I think it’s important to discuss these things without putting a label of best, worst, etc. on there. Let’s just talk about ‘em instead and see what’s what. So, consider this my movies year in review (TV and comics will follow), be it good, bad, or ugly.

Also, before I continue, if you’re still with me and you plan to read on, I ask that you please Subscribe, be it free or paid, as it helps support my work, which is 100% mine and without influence from any entity whatsoever (despite the voices in my head). The goal here is to give you unadulterated perspective without the content farm nonsense that’s pushed in so many other places. Supporting my work, as well as other in this venue, is a way to keep honest, open, and untainted voices in the mix. I thank you kindly.

Subscribe now

Movies 2023

The Iron Claw - Man, what an absolute gut punch of a film this was. I didn’t have any expectations or even knowledge about the Von Erick wrestling family, so The Iron Claw was a very new and visceral experience to behold. Writer/Director Sean Durkin delivers a powerhouse film that’s a beautiful example of economic storytelling, making the most of every scene through visuals, dialogue, and reveals that show more than tell. Working with a $15 million budget, this looks easily like a $70 million movie and that’s thanks to Durkin’s incredible visual acumen and the gorgeous photography by DP Mátyás Erdély.

The acting is bar none the best I’ve seen in 2023 from a collective cast. Zac Efron gives a transformative performance as Kevin Von Erick, the eldest brother of the family who endures one tragedy after another within his family. Efron gives a quiet, meditative, and raw performance, looking like the human embodiment of The Incredible Hulk. Mindhunters’ Holt McCallany gives an imposing, brutal, and yet somehow understandable performance as the overbearing patriarch, while Maura Tierney shows a gentle, firm, and destroyed side of the family as the matriarch and it’s by far the performance of her career thus far.

The rest of the cast is equally stellar, including The Bear’s Jeremy Allen White, The Kings Man’s Harris Dickinson, Stanley Simons, and Lily James. The ensemble cast is utilized to their fullest and it felt like everyone was fleshed out in a way that created a foreboding to the fate of all of their characters. I couldn’t fathom leaving my seat to go to the bathroom for fear of missing something essential to what was unfolding before my eyes. That, to me, is the peak of a great film. When you are immovable to the moving art before you, then you’ve found something amazing and The Iron Claw is just that.

Subscribe now

Godzilla Minus One - Toho’s contribution to their long-running franchise was nothing short of a brilliant Kaiju movie, and the first to flesh out the human characters in a way that made me give a shit about them. The American Godzilla films have done little to move that needle, despite casting some solid actors, who typically take up screen time as mundane pawns, rather than people we care about. Godzilla Minus One goes the opposite direction, making the humans the stars of the film with Godzilla serving as a literal and metaphorical threat for them to confront.

It’s essentially a Godzilla origin film, but not so much about the creature, but the mythology. The most interesting aspect is the setting, which is post-WWII Japan, dealing with their defeat and attempting to rebuild their lives after suffering such a tragic loss. There are many themes woven throughout, from love to family to courage to loyalty, all of them serving a bigger tale about redemption. If that sounds like a lot for a Godzilla film, you may be right, but that’s not a bad thing at all. This is elevated Kaiju storytelling, but don’t worry, there is plenty of mass carnage throughout that is awe-inspiring and terrifying at once, creating a terrific balance of spectacle and story that has yet to be achieved with any of the stateside monster movies.

Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse - I don’t know how Sony has managed to spin such a beautiful web out of their animated wing, but Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse is a gorgeous and heartfelt follow-up to Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse, which focuses on Miles Morales, the teenage Spider-Man from Earth 1610, who partners with a whole slew of Spider-Men (and women…and pigs, horses, robots, etc.) to defeat the bad guys and make sense of the multiverse he continues to be pulled into.

Writers Phil Lord, Chris Miller, and Dave Callaham along with directors Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, and Justin K. Thompson have woven a thrilling, visceral, and moving portrait of these characters that both grounds them and takes them to unimaginable heights, creating the kind of superhero movie that was so severely lacking in live-action in 2023. To say this is the best superhero movie of 2023 is an understatement. There’s no competition.

Full credit to the visual artists involved in making this come to life, as it’s one of the most innovative and mind-boggling animation styles that’s come along in a good while. The soundtrack, with songs produced by Metro and a fantastic score by Daniel Pemberton, plays a pivotal role in the final product, which wouldn’t be the same without either. With Beyond The Spider-Verse set to close out this trilogy later this year (or next year), one can only hope they find a way to keep this web-spinning if it’s going to continue to be this good.

Napoleon - Director Ridley Scott once again proves that he’s the master of the historical epic with Napoleon, a long-in-the-making biopic about the famed French leader who conquered as much as Alexander The Great during his reign. While many will trumpet poor box office as an indicator of a failed film, I can only heartily disagree. Scott has continued to make films that he’s called to make, regardless of how many pennies hit the bucket, and many of his best works were box-office duds, including Napoleon.

Joaquin Phoenix plays the stout, cunning, and challenged leader with an unnerving charm that is both frightful and comedic, making it one of his more interesting performances. There’s no attempt at a French accent, but rather a studious attempt at portraying the manner of the man himself. Phoenix is playfully fun and complex throughout, giving a glimpse into the man himself that feels proper.

The film is far more interested in the love story between Napoleon and his first wife Josephine (played lustfully by Vanessa Kirby) than it is to a full birth-to-death biography, so the historically-minded may be disappointed a bit, but it’s the most vivid, epic-scaled, and introspective piece on Napoleon yet, sharpened by the absolute marvel of visuals that is a Ridley Scott epic. From bombs bursting through ice (and horses) to the scale of battles, Napoleon is exactly what I’d hope for from the famed director who continues to prove his providence to the art form.

Subscribe now

John Wick: Chapter 4 - For a series that redefined the action genre into the kind of gun-fu badassery of stunts, violence, and martial arts mayhem, John Wick has continued to impress from film-to-film and that’s no easy feat. Director Chad Stahelski has upped the ante with each new entry, putting his main star, the enigmatic and amazing Keanu Reeves, through the proverbial ringer. Doing much of his own stuntwork, Reeves embodies John Wick with a quiet, menacing intensity that has created a new modern cinematic myth that will long be likened to if the series is, in fact, done for.

With a vibrant supporting cast that includes Donnie Yen, Laurence Fishburn, the late Lance Reddick, Clancy Brown, Ian McShane, Bill Skarsgård, Hiroyuki Sanada, Scott Adkins, and Rina Sawayama, John Wick: Chapter 4 exudes a tempo of action carnage that is unmatched by most films of the genre anymore (save for the Mission: Impossible series, which equally gets better and better). It’s a new standard and one that everyone is trying to capitalize on, even if they rarely reach such heights. Even if Reeves doesn’t return to the role, he’s already left a hell of a 4-part legacy that will long be returned to and it’s a beautiful thing.

Cocaine Bear - This was the talk of the town for a good while, with everyone trumping up how great of an idea it was, which was to take a true story and exaggerate it beyond belief. Director Elizabeth Banks gives it a good try, but the issue with Cocaine Bear is that it never lives up to the hype of what it could’ve been. Almost none of the movie is actually true, so it seems odd that they didn’t shoot for the moon with the concept. What we got was a bunch of dipshit characters and a little bit of blood and carnage, but nowhere near enough to justify the deflated hype.

For me, Cocaine Bear is an example of a great idea that goes nowhere. It needed a much wilder aesthetic and a narrative that just went off the rails, perhaps even showing some of the bear’s perspective (I mean, it’s already high on cocaine, so why not?) and placing some over-the-top gore that could be both shocking and comedic. Ultimately, the film needed a more fearless filmmaker to push the boundaries to make this something memorable. I give Banks credit for trying, but she just wasn’t wild enough to make something like Cocaine Bear worth the sniff.

Barbenheimer - I feel like I have to examine both Barbie and Oppenheimer as the collective summer blockbuster they became known for. Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer built hype on his name alone and the tease that we’d see a visual masterwork about the making of the atomic bomb. The film has the best score of the year by Ludwig Göransson and strong performances from Cillian Murphy, Robert Downey Jr., Emily Blunt, and the bevy of stars that round out the cast, but I did not know I was signing up for a three-hour courtroom drama with an anti-climactic bomb scene and one of the most unnerving sex scenes of all time. Compelling, sure, but the best of the year, or even a great film? Not in my book.

For Barbie, an adaptation of the enduring doll from Mattel, director Greta Gerwig brings in Margot Robbie (the most obvious casting choice) and Ryan Gosling to lead moviegoers through a pink-infused femi-fantasy that addresses everything from that pesky ol’ patriarchy to coming-of-age drama to female reproductive rights and even a Snydercut joke for good measure. It’s playful, creative, and fairly dull when Barbie is onscreen. Gosling’s Ken steals the show, but by the end the film dovetails into a weird, preachy place that upends the more promising aspects of the first two acts. Still, you can’t discount that box office and general hype, and that’s a testament to the filmmakers taking some bold risks that paid off. Even if I didn’t love it, I love what they did.

Subscribe now

Ferrari - I’m a Michael Mann fan through and through, and was very much looking forward to his take on Enzo Ferrari, the stern, inventive, and brilliant carmaker and racer who created one of the best-known sports car empires ever. Adam Driver plays the title role and he’s excellent throughout. I’m not Italian, so I can’t speak to his accent, but I was sold and his measured, brooding, and emotional performance is the whole reason to see the film (with credit to Penelope Cruz as his fiery wife).

Unfortunately, that’s the only real reason to see Ferrari, as it focuses more on family drama than anything about the cars themselves or even Ferrari’s passion or drive to create them. You won’t learn much about him, other than he lost a son, has a mistress and a bastard son, and he is adamant about winning. Having a young actor like Driver in the role would’ve given Mann carte blanche in portraying Ferrari throughout his life, but similar to Napoleon, this is a story about specific relationships, not the bigger picture.

There’s a cross-country race scene towards the end, which is muddled in a horrific tragedy, but the film is devoid of any excitement about the cars themselves. In many ways, I feel like Mann had too strong of a grasp on Ferrari, which isolated him in focusing on a specific aspect of the man, rather than the broader picture of who he was and what he built. In doing so, he made a pretty drab, boring family drama with a few good performances, but why make a Ferrari movie if you aren’t going to capitalize on what makes that name so memorable?

Rebel Moon - Zack Snyder continues his new reign on Netflix after crossing over when WB burned him out on superhero films, following up 2021’s Army of the Dead with his Star-Wars-pitch-turned-original-IP, Rebel Moon. I was beyond excited to see what Snyder would do with this concept and hoping that it would be a return to style and form for the director, who has muted his style a bit in the superhero genre. The good news is that much of that style makes a return, and Snyder is nothing if not a pure visual stylist. There’s very little to compare to his creative eye, which has always been a staple of his greatness.

Unfortunately, Snyder continues to be hindered by a writing, dialogue, and narrative structure that reeks of an unrefined 13-year-old teenager’s fantasy pap. The actors do all they can to bring the words to life, while showing up for the physical work in spades, but Snyder sure hasn’t earned the right to trash talk a George Lucas movie if this is the answer to that. Rebel Moon, much like Snyder’s Sucker Punch, is all visual feast, no substance.

Try as he might to world build, Rebel Moon doesn’t feel like anything we haven’t seen before, despite looking pretty enough. An expanded R-rated cut is on the way, just before the second chapter debuts later this year, but my problem with Syndercuts at this point are that we have to constantly go back to this well each time the original release feels lacking. We’ve seen Snyder deliver a brilliant, fully realized theatrical cut (300, Man of Steel, Dawn of the Dead), so I know it can be done. I’d love to see Snyder team up with stronger writers that can help spearhead and flesh out his visuals. His vision deserves better writing and my hope is he gets to that point sooner than later. However, the fact that Snyder is out there doing what he wants is something to be appreciated and you can’t whine and complain about someone out there chasing their passion, even if it feels like it’s not brought to its best fruition.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem - Like Spider-Man: Across The Spider-verse, the latest incarnation of animated Ninja Turtles treads into some really fun and creative animation that elevates the characters and material to new heights. Produced by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg, this latest version of the Heroes in a Half-Shell is a nice reinvention that has the characters voiced by younger teenagers, giving them a more realistic and modern feel, while still playing with the goofier aspects of their identities.

The ensemble cast of characters includes the voice talents of Paul Rudd, Ice Cube, Maya Rudolph, John Cena, Jackie Chan, Rose Byrne, Giancarlo Esposito, Hannibal Burress, Post Malone, The Bear’s Ayo Edebiri, and even Mr. Beast himself. The sketchy, colorful, and playful animation style is a big credit to the film, but it’s also a well-written, funny, and action-packed romp, giving homage to the comic-book roots, while still serving the younger audiences seeing these characters for the first time. I’ve love to see more of these.

Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour - Wait, what the fuck? Taylor Swift? Paul, are you serious? Yes, but hear me out. Remember, this list isn’t about everything I loved and hated, but rather the things that had an impact one way or another, and this had a tremendous impact on my household. As a new father of two stepdaughters, Taylor Swift is not just a passing presence, but a beloved star, and as such you cannot escape her wrath.

I had to sit through this 3-hour The Eras Tour concert movie TWICE over the holidays and here’s where I’ll lose some of you: I enjoyed it far more than Killers of the Flower Moon. At least The Eras Tour had an interesting lead character. Love or hate Swift’s music, there’s simply no denying the absolute stranglehold she has on her fans, which are in the billions. Her success and reach are nothing short of amazing, and The Eras Tour concert film is a peek into the “why” of it all.

Subscribe now

The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes - I had no real intention of seeing this, but like The Eras Tour, I have a stepdaughter that fits right into the demographic of it and her hype to see it was through the roof. I’d venture that it’s her favorite film of the year and I was beyond pleased to find that it was a legit prequel into the world of The Hunger Games that features a star-making turn from lead Tom Blythe, who portrays a young Coriolanus Snow in his early days rising into the ranks of Panem.

I hadn’t read the book and had no idea of how it would play out, but was pleased to see that it pushed the boundaries of the PG-13 rating (minus any real bloodshed, despite some violent deaths) and allowed these characters to be explored beyond good/evil tropes. Rachel Zegler gives a strong performance as Lucy Gray Baird, the would-be champion that befriends Snow, causing a web of complexity that went far beyond my expectations. Director Francis Lawrence returns to the franchise and gives it the polished look and feel that it needed to feel aligned with the other films, while also establishing itself as a standalone endeavor as well. The most pleasant theatrical surprise of the year for me.

Maestro - Bradley Cooper’s adaptation of the life of composer Leonard Bernstein is a tremendous work that’s both monotonously indulgent and emotionally complex. It’s a moving portrait of Bernstein, and Cooper invests himself completely in the role, right up to the point of parody. Cooper is a talented actor and is emerging as a strong filmmaker as well, but Maestro isn’t quite the masterwork he thought he was making. That said, it feels like a massive step for Cooper in his journey as an artist and makes me excited for the potential of whatever he directs next. His passion is there, but he needs a bit more restraint and even-handedness to balance out the scope of his vision, as Maestro frequently devolves into a kind of caricature skit, rather than a biopic.

The movie uses Bernstein’s music throughout and breaks into outright musical numbers at different parts of the film, utilizing his scores from other films and plays in various scenes as well. It’s a reasonable move, but is more excessive than it needed to be. The Mid-Atlantic dialogue and eye-rollingly annoying personas of the artistic royalty can be grating throughout, but the film eventually finds its humanity amidst the toil of sexual identity, family, and career. What emerges is a lovely tribute to a musical genius that doesn’t stray from his complex life, while wallowing a bit too long in homage. What I loved about Maestro far outweighs what I loathed about it.

Up Next: My 2023 Year in Review for TV, Books, Comics, and Games

Leave a comment

Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom Review

So, let’s get this out of the way: I loved the first Aquaman film. LOVED it. To me, it was an outstanding encapsulation of the comic-book genre and it felt like a comic book. Yeah, sure, there was some silly stuff and a terrible cover of “Africa” by Pitbull, but it was exciting, action-packed, and made full use of director James Wan’s signature style and camerawork. It was a fun-as-hell superhero movie that shocked the hell out of naysayers, becoming the highest-grossing film in the DCEU slate (and will likely remain so).

Fast forward five years later to Aquaman and The Lost Kingdom, a long-in-the-making sequel to the billion-dollar original that faced delays, reshoots, and the ever-growing shift of adoration for the genre. Wan returned to helm the follow-up, which took much longer to come together for whatever reason (constant leadership shifts at DC/WB and a massive merger didn’t help), losing any momentum that could’ve been won after the tremendous success of the original.

The trailers for Aquaman 2 looked solid, capitalizing on the wild, bombastic style that Wan employed, along with the vibrant visual punch and lean toward the more monstrous and horror-themed creatures and villains. It looked like a promising return to the well, which would be the curtain call for the DCEU before James Gunn and Peter Safran reboot the whole DCU in 2025.

So, did the long wait, reshoots, hype (or lacktherof) pay off? In a word, yes.

In an online world where people swear by Rotten Tomatoes scores and pounce on ridicule over praise…not so much.

Subscribe now

For me, Aquaman and The Lost Kingdom is a perfect sequel to the original. Now, that doesn’t mean it’s a perfect sequel or the best sequel or however you want to spin it to make it sound like I just said it’s the Terminator 2 of comic book movies. No, it’s the perfect sequel to what Wan, star Jason Momoa, and the creative team behind the franchise laid out with the first film.

It’s silly, cheesy, cool, loud, explosive, expansive, creative, goofy, and unapologetically comic book-y in all its glory. It’s a B-movie with a massive budget that calls back to the old Ray Harryhausen flicks with shades of Clash of the Titans, 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, and put in a blender with the 80s buddy-action movie genre. It’s Tango & Cash Under The Sea. It’s got all the trimmings of a big, dumb spectacle movie with a little bit of heart and a whole lot of explosions.

It also suffers from sequelitis, which is a common additive in the 80s when every new Die Hard, Lethal Weapon, Under Siege, etc. tried to outdo or, in the least, recreate the spirit of the original, while trying to feel original itself. Sequels, in case it’s unclear, are never easy. Sometimes they are amazing and best the original (Godfather 2, Captain America 2, Terminator 2, Empire Strikes Back, etc.) and sometimes they are duds (Independence Day 2, Batman & Robin, Speed 2, etc.). And, sometimes, they’re perfectly fine follow-ups that don’t best the original, but keep the first burning (Die Hard 2, Blade Runner 2049, Lethal Weapon 2, Blade II, etc.).

For me, Aquaman 2 falls in the latter category. It’s not as sharp or focused as the first film and lacks the same level of suspense and conflict, but it’s a fun ride with returning characters that recaptures the spirit of the original, while neither elevating or lowering the standard and it’s juuuust fine in that way.

If released even a few years ago, I think the reception to Aquaman 2 would be quite different than right now. Many critics are skewering it and some moviegoers saying they even left the film without finishing it because it was so bad. As someone who truly scrutinizes everything he watches, I just don’t understand those responses. At all. So, am I just “off” on this one? (Or is it all that money that WB is sending me to say good things about it?)

Subscribe now

DCEU and MCU in 2023: What Happened?

The answer to that comes down to the last few years with the DCEU and MCU, collectively, who have both faced a downturn in quality with an uptick in quantity. Audiences have been both spoiled and bamboozled at once, creating a superhero fatigue that ultimately boils down to indifference. Having seen it all at this point, what on Earth could possibly wow them anymore, let alone make up for the smorgasbord of misfires from both studios?

The knee-jerk answer is, “I don’t know, good movies?” but that’s a broad stroke and a cop out. That’s obvious, but what is “good”? I wrote about this in my Shazam: Fury of the Gods review, which suggested that George McFly, the 1950s set character in Back to the Future, would LOVE that movie, simply because he would have nothing to compare it to. It would be a revelation to him, because nothing has come before that could come close to topping it.

But modern audiences are much harder to please and, having been beaten over the head with everything and the comic-book movie kitchen sink over the last decade plus, there’s not much out there to move the needle. Aquaman 2 is exceptionally similar to the first film, which made a billion dollars, but for some reason it’s being crucified as a lesser film. And, to a small degree, I’d agree. I think the first is better when held up together, but the second one is no less entertaining and on par with the original in terms of VFX, acting, action, etc. It checks all the boxes. So, why the shift?

Well, quite simply, it’s too little, too late, and the folks that spend a heaping amount of time on the artist formerly known as Twitter are eating up the spoon-fed narratives that the DCEU is done, over, kaput, and joining the Titanic at the bottom of the ocean with Aquaman 2 the last to hit the floor. The biggest curse to come out of this “shared universe” model is that follow-on movies are being viewed as part of a whole, rather than as an individual effort, so if there’s no promise of sequels and/or spin-offs and connective tissue galore then it’s not worth the effort.

Subscribe now

Look at this past summer’s The Flash. Prior to opening, critics and even professionals were speaking out about how much they loved it and how great it was, and then it was released with a thud. True, it was exceptionally long-delayed, coupled with the offscreen antics of star Ezra Miller and some very ill-conceived VFX in many parts of the film that left viewers boggled, but it was otherwise a fun, funny, and often exciting and emotional superhero flick. In the pre-Covid era, I believe The Flash would’ve been a massive hit, but something has shifted in the hivemind zeitgeist that has seemingly put superhero films on notice.

Shazam: Fury of the Gods was a massive disappointment as well, which was another early warning sign that the genre has hit a ceiling. As a sequel it was fairly on par with the original and could fairly be compared to Aquaman 2 (same cast, director, and creative vibe), but the story, action, and lame villains (and even lamer cameo) made it a complete wash for me. I just wanted it to be over and couldn’t help but feel that it sullied the fun of the first film. I doubt I’ll ever revisit either.

And while the smaller Blue Beetle wasn’t as horrendous as I anticipated, it’s not something I ever need to see again. It was a blip that felt like a made-for-TV movie, but benefitted from a charismatic lead in Xolo Mariduena, which is the nicest thing I can say about it.

So, that was the DCEU in 2023, which everyone knew was coming to a close when James Gunn and Peter Safran were hired by new WB CEO David Zaslav to spearhead an all-new, fully rebooted DCU, starting in 2025 with Superman: Legacy. What will come of that is completely unknown and perhaps a full year of no new live-action DC films will give audiences the breather they didn’t know they needed, paving the way for a fresh perspective and new hunger for superhero antics, which have seemingly grown stale in the last few years. We’ll see if the appetite remains (or resurfaces).

Subscribe now

It’s easy to pick on DC, as they have struggled from the drop to find the sure footing that Marvel Studios has. The MCU has been a phenomenal success, undoubtedly being the biggest influence on the rise of superhero films at the box office. Sure, there were Batman and Superman films, a Blade Trilogy, and Fox’s Mutant films (including the mega-popular Deadpool films), but it was the MCU that really put superhero films on the map and up until Avengers: Endgame (with a hail Mary from Spider Man: No Way Home) it was an unstoppable force.

Then, it met the immovable object of Disney+ and a live-action slate that didn’t include Iron Man or Captain America (or the creators that brought them to life). 2023 was not kind to the MCU (or those that followed it), as it was a mostly downtrodden, dragged-out, and uninspired mish-mash of content that only slightly moved the needle, like a dying patient’s hopeful heartbeats before flatlining.

Ant-Man and The Wasp: Quantumania and The Marvels ranged from abysmal to ho-hum, with Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 being the only bright spot on the live-action theatrical calendar. That’s a far cry from Phase 3 (or 2 or 1) and it wasn’t helped by the onslaught of dredge from Disney+, including shows like Hawkeye, Loki season 2, She-Hulk, and the snooze-fest that was Secret Invasion.

It’s almost impressive how awful the MCU 2023 line-up ended up being, not helped by the massive influence of progressive and vocal minority groups that have pressure-cooked them into a woke agenda nightmare that runs every movie and show with one committee after another giving “feedback” on loop over what is currently socially acceptable and what isn’t, leaving creators with their hands tied and minds warped over what the creative battles they can even fight.

It’s not a filmmaker’s world at Marvel anymore, not that it always was. But, the Favreau’s, the Gunn’s, the Russo’s, etc. have all moved on, paving the way for shadow puppet, DEI hires that have neither the experience nor the understanding of what makes a superhero film/show a superhero film/show, instead treating the material like a soapbox for every social cause hashtag they can squeeze in, while stunt performers and VFX crews do the heavy lifting, which doesn’t matter anyway, since they aren’t being asked to do anything particularly visionary or specific that hasn’t been done before a thousand times.

In that way, the MCU has the hardest road forward, I believe, unless they finally lean into the last ace up their sleeve: The X-Men. That’s a likely play, especially with Deadpool 3 making its splash in 2024, which I think will be the film to open the MCU doors back up and clear the path for a new “mutant” era. Marvel could easily milk that for another decade, leading to an Endgame-level finish that will bring out the masses (and the box office). But, will they trust filmmakers to push the boundaries and honor the things that make the X-Men great, or will it be more filmmaking-by-committee prattle that leaves fans disillusioned? As with all things, we’ll see.

Subscribe now

The Future of Comic-Book Films

So, are we all just sick of this shit? Have we been so spoiled that nothing amuses us anymore? Are we desensitized to laser rays, power blasts, and mass city-wide destruction that we no longer care about men and women in tights performing feats of superheroics?

Well. Maybe. Or, maybe the powers that be just forgot what makes it all special to begin with. Maybe they focused too much on eye-roll social commentary instead of the bombastic action and heroism we tuned in for. Maybe they all got too big for their britches and lost sight of what they had. Maybe it’s all of those things.

I can remember a time, say 1989, when I was so ridiculously hyped to walk into a movie theater and see Michael Keaton as Batman and Jack Nicholson as The Joker. I was in Florida and in the fifth grade and I was swept up in the magic of what we were about to see. At that point I’d seen trailers, posters, and toys, and had already taken the plunge into comics, reading everything Batman, Punisher, GI Joe, etc. that I could get my hands on.

There was no Internet to tell me how wrong I was for liking what I liked. There were no social issues (at least not overt) in the film to take me out of the fantasy universe I yearned to escape to. There were no social misfits out to rob me of my joy in experiencing art without feeling guilt or shame for even existing in this world. No, I ventured out, full of hope and hype to escape into another world, to feel inspired and entertained. And that’s what I got.

The older I got, the more “real life” I experienced and my perspective shifted. Then, the Internet arrived, both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it united me with fellow fans and enthusiasts, a curse because it was filled with just as many degenerate, hateful, and psychotic morons that live to steal the good from everyone’s lives to toss it into the void that is their keyboard warrior souls.

Still, amidst it all, from terrorist attacks to war to marriage to children to divorce and beyond, I found my way back to the escape that filled me with hope, with inspiration, with an escape that spoke of the gods and monsters of our infinite imaginations. I never stopped collecting comics (and still do), and never stopped pursuing my passion for great films, great art, and great visions. The greatness of humanity is represented in the best works of art, and some of those come from our modern myths: the comic book superhero.

Subscribe now

That’s where the genre thrives. That’s where it was born. A bunch of men, many of them Jews (Stan Lee, Bill Finger, Joe Shuster, Jerry Siegel, Jack Kirby, etc.), created the kind of heroes the world needed to combat the hate, violence, and villainy of the world, mostly born out of the rise of Nazi Germany leading into WWII. The heroes were created to save the innocent, to protect their people, their world, and their planet. They were the new Gods. From Superman to Captain America to Batman and beyond, they emerged as symbols of our human aspirations.

So, for me, I have to look at the broader picture of where the genre is headed. In 2024 there is only one live-action theatrical film from Marvel, which is Deadpool 3. I firmly believe it may well be the biggest film of the year in terms of blockbusters. It has every advantage and the perfect team to make it happen. With DC taking a year off (unless you count the “elseworlds” Joker: Folie à Deux), I can only hope that James Gunn will assemble something that recognizes, pays tribute, and honors the legacy that was created with the genre, rather than trying to take it somewhere it doesn’t belong. Superman: Legacy will set that stage, but we have a long wait till that is revealed.

Either way, we’re getting a break in 2024, and perhaps that’s the biggest thing we need. Perhaps it will allow us to revisit some of the superhero films of 2023 with new eyes (for better or worse), and reshape our perspectives for what’s to come next. Hopefully, what comes next is what we need, rather than what we’ve gotten the last few years.

Leave a comment

Up Next for Way of the Shirey will be my Year in Review (aka Best of). Stay tuned and please make sure to subscribe for free or consider subscribing at a paid rate, which helps support my work here. Thank you for reading and we’ll see you on the next one!

I remember hearing about director John Woo back in the early 90’s when his first American film, Hard Target starring Jean-Claude Van Damme, was set to debut. There was a great movie show on MTV called The Big Picture with host Chris Connelly, which featured reviews, previews, interviews, etc. for upcoming movies and I’ll never forget just seeing snippets of Woo’s Hong Kong films before they led into their piece on Hard Target. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was seeing clips of The Killer and Hard Boiled, two of Woo’s biggest films from his early Hong Kong filmmaking days. I desperately wanted to see the full films that I was being teased on The Big Picture. I was hooked and obsessed.

The problem? This was 1993. That means no IMDB, no Internet, no YouTube, no instant access to everything I could’ve ever wanted to know or see about John Woo. So, I did what the rest of us did back then when we were hungry to find old, obscure, cult or otherwise films; I scoured Blockbuster video shelves, but to no avail. Eventually, I saw Hard Target in theaters and got a taste of what Woo was about, even though the theatrical cut was a trimmed-down version of the far superior European cut (which left in the excess of violence and style the director is known for).

Woo would go on to be a Hollywood success before finding his way back to Hong Kong in the mid-2000s. Broken Arrow, Face/Off, and Mission: Impossible 2 were hits, but the double whammy failures of Windtalkers and Paycheck left Woo in a position of not finding good scripts or opportunities that he deemed worthy of his efforts stateside. It was a sad loss, but ultimately he wasn’t making anything close to the kind of gritty, stylish work of his earlier days anyway, so why make things worse?

Subscribe now

Back in China, Woo made two films in his Red Cliff series and two films in his The Crossing series, before returning to the old-school action genre with Manhunt, which ended up being a misfire. The Red Cliff films are typically lauded for their epic-scale action and traditional format, but Woo hasn’t touched anything close to the work that made him famous in decades. The unforgettable machismo and creative brutality of films like Hard Boiled, The Killer, A Better Tomorrow, Bullet to the Head, the extended cut of Hard Target, or even the slick, glossy excellence of Face/Off seemed to have dissipated from Woo’s aesthetic.

Now, Woo is back in U.S. theaters after a twenty-year hiatus with Silent Night, a high-concept action thriller starring The Suicide Squad’s Joel Kinnaman, Catalina Sandino Moreno, and Kid Cudi. Early trailers promised a return to form for the director, who looked to be returning to his roots of excessive action ballet, complete with slow-motion antics that prove the format’s worth in spades. I was more than excited to have Woo back in the game if even to have him back behind the camera and producing work, hoping against a hope it would be a renaissance return for the filmmaker.

Sadly, Silent Night is as half-baked as they come, and not even close to the standards Woo created for himself many decades ago as a visionary action director. The story centers on Kinnaman, a father whose son is killed by a stray bullet in a gangland shootout, prompting a vengeance-seeking purpose within him that will not rest. The hook (or, should I say gimmick?) is that Kinnaman’s character is shot in the neck while running after the gang members just after they shot his son, rendering him unable to speak.

Subscribe now

The film then makes it so that nobody speaks in the entire film, which at first might seem a clever concept, but it wears very thin as the film progresses. The lack of dialogue could have worked, but it simply isn’t executed in a way that allows the kind of depth, information, and detail to sharpen the other elements of the story. For all its ambiguity, the concept simply leaves far too much to be desired and relies almost exclusively on text messages and long-take stare-offs between characters to convey depth, which never gets very deep.

Kinnaman gives the film his all, however, and plays the role of a man suffering the loss of his child and hungry for revenge with a hyperactive zeal. The actor has already shown his action chops in multiple films, but he does a great job of showing the plight of an everyman (okay, with a six-pack) who’s ultimately in over his head in his quest for revenge. He’s no superhero, that’s for sure, but is no less deadly when provoked.

Since there’s no dialogue and the “silent” concept doesn’t do anything particularly creative to let us know anything about any of the characters (like, at all), it’s impossible to get invested in anyone. Catalina Sandino Moreno is an excellent onscreen cryer and brings the waterworks in nearly every scene she’s in, but we learn absolutely nothing about her otherwise. Kid Cudi, who seems completely out of place in the film, offers little more than hitting his marks. It’s like he won a contest to be in a John Woo movie and gets to show up and do a couple of John Woo things. He’s otherwise just a name in the credits.

Subscribe now

The antagonists fare even worse. We learn nothing about them, except that they are mean, have face tattoos, and sell drugs. Oh, and they are also terrible shots, as they have daytime shootouts without ever properly aiming (on Christmas Day no less). They are little more than cartoon cutouts with no real resonance at all, a far cry from the complex duality of the antagonists in Woo’s prior films.

The underdeveloped story and characters, as well as the grating gimmick of a concept, could all be forgiven had Woo shown up on the creative action side. Sadly, Woo is missing here, save for a few glimpses that slip away as soon as you start to get excited. The slow-motion ballet of creative action is replaced with clumsy, John-Wick-style antics that would’ve been impressive if they preceded John Wick, but in Woo’s hands, it feels like he’s simply late to the party and trying to play catch up while making vain attempts to retain the signature that makes him so special.

Remember Chow Yun-Fat barrel rolling over a metal table packed with flour while being shot at before he rolls to a stop and kills the bad guy, the blood spatter all over his freshly-powdered face in Hard Boiled? Remember Van Damme kicking an open container of gasoline at a bad guy on a motorcycle, lifting his shotgun in time to shoot it, and sending the bad guy and his bike exploding out of a window in Hard Target? Remember the gun kick in the sand that put a pistol in Tom Cruise’s hand to take out the main villain in Mission: Impossible II? Remember the-you get the idea.

Well, none of that is in Silent Night. Not even close.

Silent Night teases a few scenarios that could’ve gone down in Woo history as something special, but are never fully thought out, executed or brought to fruition in a way that early 90s Woo would’ve done. I kept waiting for some show of his creative, even silly antics, but none came to pass, replaced instead with a barrage of shootouts and scenes that echo the new John Wick era of action films. This would be fine if it moved the needle higher, but it barely registers at this point. All of the Wick films are better than Silent Night and it’s not even close.

By the time Silent Night rolls credits, the whole thing ends up feeling too little too late. If this were released 10 years ago it very well might’ve been something, but in 2023 this just isn’t up to snuff, not for Woo and not for the genre itself. Like Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon, this ship sinks at the harbor. It made me think of a far better family revenge thriller, James Wan’s Death Sentence (especially the director’s cut), which isn’t as stylistic as the old Woo but has the acting, character, and story that Silent Night so desperately needed to elevate the proceedings. Still, that doesn’t account for Woo leaving out his signature style, which is the biggest miss with the film altogether and I admit that I’d suffer the other issues just to have that in its place.

I will always love John Woo and champion his work. If he keeps making films, I’ll keep watching them, but damn if I don’t miss the guy that gave us so many amazing, bullet-bouncing ballets of violence before. Still, the fact that he gave us those to begin with and set such a high precedent for both himself and the audience is both his blessing and his curse.

Leave a comment

Martin Scorsese. Leonardo DiCaprio. Robert De Niro. A riveting true-crime story. Sounds like a recipe for a slam-dunk success, right?

Well, not this time, Marty. Much has been made of the ongoing public feud that director Martin Scorsese has had with “Marvel movies” or comic-book movies, which began back in 2019 when he said that they were “not cinema” and compared their contribution to film culture as a “theme park ride”.

There was a bevy of backlash once Scorsese’s initial comments were made, which has resurfaced after a 2023 GQ interview where he said that “we’ve got to save cinema” from the “danger” of these big superhero showdowns. “The danger there is what it’s doing to our culture because there are going to be generations now that think movies are only those – that’s what movies are,” said Scorsese.

Of course, the pushback from superhero fans and the younger generation (who have likely never seen Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, or even Goodfellas) was harsh against this cranky old filmmaker, who many likened to someone who’s out of touch with the way things are now. However, Scorsese makes some good points in his stance, which isn’t against the existence of superhero films, but rather their predominance in the cultural zeitgeist.

That said, for every Goodfellas or The Departed or Gangs of New York, Scorsese himself has delivered a sluggish dud, from Kundun to Silence to Hugo, etc. In sum, not every film lensed by the masterful artist is a masterpiece, and sadly, Killers of the Flower Moon fits squarely in that ho-hum chunk of drawn-out drivel that is peppered throughout his filmography.

When Scorsese is on fire, he is ON FIRE. Let’s be clear on that. Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Cape Fear, Goodfellas, Casino, The Departed, The Gangs of New York, and The Wolf of Wall Street are among his best, in my humble opinion. You could argue the merits of The Age of Innocence, Mean Streets, The Aviator, The Last Temptation of Christ, The Color of Money, Bringing Out The Dead, and The Irishman, but those are films I tend to revisit with far less frequency than his standouts.

Subscribe now

The point? Well, it’s simple. Not every Scorsese film is a banger. I think we can sit okay with that at this juncture. Is he still one of the best filmmakers of all time? Absolutely. But, in our misguided efforts to hero worship an artist by saying they can do no wrong, we forget the importance of examining art. Not all artists will deliver masterpiece after masterpiece. And, here’s the thing: that’s okay. Also, as per the subjectivity of art, you can STILL feel like every piece is a masterpiece and not be wrong. It’s your opinion, your take, your prerogative. I think you’re wrong, but if you want to die on the hill of “they can do no wrong” then by all means, go for it.

There are so many artists, writers, and creatives that I’ve admired throughout my life, and while I am always hoping that they deliver more work that encompasses what I consider to be their best, it simply isn’t always that way. It rarely is. Artists are meant to strive, to experiment, to shift, to grow, to expand their gifts, rather than spin their wheels. And, at the same time, we want to see more of what they’ve proven to be good at, even if they are tired of the very thing that put them on the map.

Scorsese has always attempted to branch out, to follow his passion, and to make films that speak to him. We love when he’s making violent gangster dramas and he obviously loves telling those tales, but he has constantly shifted genres to play in other pools, never allowing himself to be completely pigeon-holed in any one genre. Sometimes that works out beautifully, and sometimes not.

Unfortunately, it simply doesn’t work for Killers of the Flower Moon, which takes a few pages from his gangster films but is far more in the experimental field than one might believe going in. Based on the nonfiction novel of the same name by David Grann, a procedural-like book that covers the corruption, racial injustice, and murder that followed when the native Osage tribes in Oklahoma discovered oil-rich deposits that made them wealthy beyond their dreams in the 1920s.

It's a riveting, thought-provoking, and dense book that peels back the layers of racism and abject greed of those who subjected the Osage people to humiliation and degradation in the face of watching out for their best interests, which was ultimately the best interests of those who kept them under their thumb. The book also focuses on the formation of the FBI, as it took an entire special unit of agents to finally infiltrate the deep-seated corruption that rattled the Osage community at that time. This factors heavily into the book but is more of a footnote in the film, which makes some very odd creative decisions from the drop.

Subscribe now

The most problematic aspect of Killers of the Flower Moon is with DiCaprio. A proven and formidable actor in Scorsese’s rotation of trusted accomplices, DiCaprio is usually in the right role for whatever project they’re collaborating on, but for Killers, the choice to play Ernest Burkhart, a simple, uninteresting, and middling character as the lead was the wrong choice altogether. Initially, DiCaprio was set to play Tom White, the lead FBI agent who takes on the Osage case (played instead by Jesse Plemons, in a significantly pared-down role), but the actor felt that the story would be better served by telling it from Burkhart’s perspective.

He couldn’t have been more wrong. In choosing to have Burkhart in the lead, the film tries to make him into something more than what he was, but can’t get beyond the fact that he was more of a straggler in the bigger corruption that was happening around him. He’s not a hero, for sure, and as a villain, he’s more of a patsy than anything else. White, on the other hand, the FBI Agent who led the investigation, was a far more compelling character who had much more to explore than a drunken fool who seemed to just like money and women. The book takes great pains to dive into White’s life, from childhood to death, and his story is far more interesting than that of Burkhart’s. It’s not even close.

The problem with this creative risk is that it wastes DiCaprio’s significant talent on a role that is beneath his skill level. He doesn’t belong in the role of Burkhart, a simple, impressionable vagrant-like leech that wears a permanent frown on his face, except when he’s gambling, saying how much he “loves money” even though we never quite understand anything that drives him. The role would’ve been better served by Plemons, who is great at playing aloof oddballs, but is instead inhabiting the role that DiCaprio should’ve been playing. A simple role swap between DiCaprio and Plemons would’ve served Killers of the Flower Moon exceptionally and allowed the film to explore the FBI aspect, as well as that of the character of White, with much more depth, providing a far more compelling story than what we got.

It feels like Scorsese and DiCaprio didn’t want to have a “hero in a white hat” kind of film, instead keeping the focus on the Osage people, rather than what some may consider a “white savior” (pun intended). But, White was no savior, so much as a man up against the wall in terms of cracking a case that everyone involved wanted to be kept closed, to keep their pockets full. White changed things forever with his investigation, but it was a hard road to get there, and he served as someone who truly sought to carry out justice, something he learned at a very young age. As a boy, White’s father was a lawman, and he witnessed everything from prison riots to hangings to frontier justice that led him to follow in his father’s footsteps, eventually becoming a Texas Ranger, before joining the newly formed FBI and sent by J. Edgar Hoover to investigate the Osage murders. Now, THAT is a character I want to get to know.

Subscribe now

If any of that sounds interesting, then I’d recommend reading the book, because Plemons’ White doesn’t show up until the third hour of Killers of the Flower Moon and you learn almost nothing about who he is or why he matters. It’s a perplexing choice to omit so much of White’s story, and it seems that Scorsese and DiCaprio simply decided that it would be better to keep the story centrally focused on the Osage characters, namely Mollie Burkhart (Lily Gladstone) and her family.

The film’s main villain, William Hale, a corrupt-as-hell rancher played by Robert De Niro, is himself miscast in the role, as he’s far too old at 80 (Hale was 48 during the height of the Osage murders) and simply doesn’t carry the same presence and stature that he did in his earlier works with Scorsese. While I understand that Scorsese probably just wanted to work with Bobby again, it’s a role that needed an energetic personality. Far more interesting choices could’ve been Kevin Costner, Matthew McConaughey, or even Tom Hanks, but De Niro is just too long in the tooth for a role of this weight.      

Gladstone as Mollie gives a strong performance, which is a quiet and reserved part, peppered with grief and pain. She is essentially the (broken) heart of the film, and much is made of the reworked script to make it about her relationship with DiCaprio’s Burkhart. Sadly, those scenes feel mostly dragged out, as they simply aren’t that interesting.

The movie has many of Scorsese’s signature moves, including long-take shots with multiple characters interacting as the camera weaves through a scene, as well as the sudden shock violence that frequently pervades his work. The characters throughout the film are colorful personalities, but nowhere near as interesting, provoking, or compelling as the ones from his better films. In many ways, they come off as caricatures of his better work, making their impact feel less important or convincing.

Subscribe now

While many of the real-world people could have been much as they are portrayed, there’s something about them that feels less memorable than they should. You’ll struggle to remember who is who, why they matter, what their stake is in everything, and what their motives might be. They simply aren’t fleshed out in a way that makes their presence feel like they should, especially given the true impact of the real-world events being portrayed.

The trademark violence is subdued and devoid of the hard impact felt in works like Casino or Goodfellas, reminiscent of the sidewalk beatdown in Scorsese’s last film, The Irishman, which looked like a filmed rehearsal that was meant to make sure no one got hurt. While the violence is always painful and portrayed in a way that makes one wince, rather than cheer, for Killers it’s either too subtle or too restrained to garner the necessary emotion to tell this story.

The biggest problem with Killers of the Flower Moon, which goes hand-in-hand with the miscasting of DiCaprio, is the sluggish pace. Whereas in something like Casino or The Wolf of Wall Street, where the pace soars and unfolds with crackling, attention-demanding precision, Killers of the Flower Moon wallows in scenes that go on far too long, drawing out sequences that simply don’t need the extra time. The urgency to want to get things moving is akin to waiting in traffic when you see the light has turned green and nothing is moving. It’s painful at times and evokes the kind of impatience one hates to confront when viewing a longer film. Sometimes you never feel it (Avengers: Endgame, Dances with Wolves, or Braveheart come to mind) and sometimes you REALLY feel it (The Deer Hunter or Cats, to name a few), and Killers fits squarely in the latter.

I’ve heard both sides of the argument by critics for and against Killers of the Flower Moon and none of them are wrong. It’s a challenging work, no matter how you slice it, but for my money, it fails in the biggest way due to focusing on the absolute wrong character to drive the story, a decision that I believe sinks the film. DiCaprio, in his desire to challenge himself as an actor or act on instincts that he believed were correct, chose to focus on a character that is a complete bore. It’s the equivalent of making the henchman the lead character and it just doesn’t work. It’s a wasteful display of DiCaprio’s abilities. It would be easy to get past this error if it wasn’t so glaringly obvious and it sinks the entire film, even with Gladstone’s strong performance (and as good as she is, she spends a huge bulk of the film just lying in bed with sickness).

My love for Scorsese is not diminished because of Killers of the Flower Moon by any measure. All artists are allowed to experiment in all facets of their work and I appreciate that he felt compelled to make the film and follow his instincts. For me, however, it felt like the creative decisions on the level of casting and narrative went awry, making a film that could’ve been amazing into a film that is instead a perplexing slog. I nonetheless await whatever Scorsese churns out next, always hopeful it will have the impact and presence of his better work, and grateful that he continues to share his vision no matter what.

Killers of the Flower Moon is currently in theaters and will debut soon on Apple TV.

Leave a comment

Subscribe now

After a number of Covid delays, the latest entry in the long-running Mission: Impossible franchise starring Tom Cruise has arrived. Directed once again by Christopher McQuarrie, who has helmed the last two films, Mission: Impossible - Dead Reckoning - Part One is a sharp, expertly-crafted action thriller that’s packed with jaw-dropping stunts, engaging characters, and a thrill-a-minute pace that manages to pack in all the exposition without ever dragging things out. It’s pure craftsmanship at work, from the lead star to the filmmaker to the stuntcrew and beyond, this is top-to-bottom expert level event entertainment.

Based on the TV series created by Bruce Geller, the Mission: Impossible film franchise launched in 1996 and has continued to grow and expand with each new entry all the way up to now, which will be a nearly 30-year endeavor by the time next year’s second chapter of Dead Reckoning is released. That’s no small feat, and one that will no doubt give the James Bond franchise a run for its money by the time it’s all said and done, especially with Cruise saying he’d like to still be making M:I movies into his 80’s, a la Harrison Ford as Indiana Jones.

Support Way of the Shirey and purchase the Mission: Impossible 4K set through Amazon HERE

Dead Reckoning is a stab at a two-part film, but based on the ending of part one it feels like it’s simply just an extended film, more akin to Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill movies than, say, The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi. It doesn’t end on a cliffhanger so much as a To Be Continued…, and that’s just fine. You could also compare it to this summer’s Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse, which is also the first part of a two-part film, although that one ends on a definite cliffhanger.

Cruise’s IMF agent Ethan Hunt picks up his role without missing a beat, still the leader of the secretive government agency that he’s been a part of all along, trusted implicitly to do the undoable whenever he’s dropped a dossier on an impossible mission. You’d think that as many times as he’s gone rogue that he’d either be dead, imprisoned, or completely off the grid somewhere, but he remains loyal to the cause nonetheless, which is something that gets unpacked in Dead Reckoning a bit moreso than in previous entries.

Subscribe now

SPOILERS

We learn early on that Hunt had a mysterious criminal past of sorts, which is what led him to the IMF. He was in love, as he always is, and that love was snuffed out, presumably by a former colleague (or enemy, as it’s not entirely clear) named Gabriel, played by the great Esai Morales. The set-up and tease of Hunt’s mysterious past plays into his current role as an IMF agent and digs into the “why” of his dedication to it. For one, it gave him a second chance, saving him from the aforementioned death or imprisonment. For two, he’s really damn good at it. And finally (and most importantly) he has formed a bond with the people he works with, who are more than colleagues, but friends, all of whom began on a similar checkered past. I’d even go so far as to say they’re family, but this doesn’t quite go down the Corona-clinking barbecues of The Fast & The Furious.

For me, learning more about who Hunt is makes him that much more compelling of a character and McQuarrie (along with Erik Jendresen) have smartly decided to unpack who he is in Dead Reckoning. Seven films in and we’ve learned a lot about Hunt, but not everything, and you have to keep the audience invested. Seeing Cruise himself do all these amazing stunts is always appreciated, but if the character never advances beyond that showmanship then the interest wanes and he’s just Evel Knievel, not a complex secret agent. Thankfully, the journey of getting to know Hunt continues here, making it a well-rounded story that isn’t merely focused on wowing the audience, but keeping them engaged.

The story centers on a MacGuffin, as many of these films do, this time a special key that unlocks control over an AI known as “The Entity” that has become self-aware and would presumably grant the holder complete world-dominating power. The key is broken into two parts, which are separated early on, with those vying for control in a race to secure it, one of which includes Hunt’s rival from the past, Gabriel. However, the U.S. government is always in the market for such a thing, which brings back Eugene Kittridge, the former IMF director and now CIA director. Also in the mix is Cary Elwes as the Director of National Intelligence, as well as a group of U.S. agents on the trail of Hunt, led by Shea Whigham’s Briggs (an ode to Dan Briggs, the original lead of the TV series played by Steven Hill before Peter Graves took over as Jim Phelps). Toss in a maniacal assassin named Paris (Pom Klementieff) and a return of Vanessa Kirby’s The White Widow, and you’ve got a lot of vibrant characters in the mix.

Subscribe now

What follows is a fast-paced game of cat-and-mouse as all interested parties attempt to gain access to both parts of the key. Hunt wants both keys so he can destroy The Entity, while everyone else wants it to rule the world. It’s very much the “one ring” of the film and a bit silly at that, but in the end it lights the fuze on the kind of pulse-pounding action that makes this franchise sizzle, so it’s fairly inconsequential until you stop to think about how so tiny of an object causes so much havoc. I mean, nobody thought to make copies??

Things heat up when Haley Atwell’s Grace is introduced, who turns out to be a thief for hire, who becomes a thorn in Hunt’s side as she swipes the keys at multiple turns (as he swipes them back), eventually embroiling her in the scenario with no way out. What Grace represents is a mirror to Hunt’s own past, alluding that he himself was a master thief of some kind before being brought into the IMF. It’s almost a back-door origin story for Hunt in that way, as we watch Grace squeezed into the plot, all the while trying to find a way out of it, eventually faced with a choice that boils down to “join or die”.

Atwell, who has made a name for herself in the MCU as Peggy Carter, is more than up to the challenge of a Mission: Impossible film. She portrays Grace as more than just eye candy, but a complex individual who is skilled beyond measure, but trapped in the lie that her criminal enterprises will grant her freedom. It turns out, her freedom comes at the price of servitude to the IMF, something she reluctantly agrees to by the film’s end.

It’s hard not to draw comparisons between Dead Reckoning and another summer franchise that released this month, Indiana Jones and The Dial of Destiny, but not in the way you might think. It’s a great contrast between two long-running series and a lesson in what to do and what NOT to do. Watching Cruise and Atwell, handcuffed together while attempting to outrun their pursuers in multiple vehicles throughout Rome brought to mind the Tangiers chase scene in Indy V with Harrison Ford and Phoebe Waller-Bridge.

In Indy V, the chase was muddled in CGI, incoherent, lacking any real stakes or vision. It was hard to tell what was happening or to even care. The dialogue and banter between Ford And Waller-Bridge was stunted and awkward, making for little more than a loud, obnoxious, and boring drawn-out sequence. With Dead Reckoning, you’re watching a chase scene built with care, precision, and inspiration. You can’t wait to see what happens and how they will eventually get away. Every turn, every crash, every pursuit is clear and vibrant. You can feel the energy and the suspense, because you can see it (as well as the actual actors doing the stunts). It’s refined craftsmanship versus paint-by-numbers mediocrity. Both films had similar budgets, but it’s blatantly obvious which one put the money on the screen and it’s not even close.

Dead Reckoning is living proof that Indiana Jones V needed a Christopher McQuarrie, not a James Mangold, to make it work. In the end, however, McQuarrie can only be at one place at one time, and thankfully we have his tremendous talent on at least one great franchise. It’s just a shame when you see that talent at work and have to wonder why the biggest studio in the world couldn’t deliver the same kind of quality on Indiana Jones.

The other Indy V comparison comes in the form of the British female co-leads. For Indy V it was the woefully miscast Phoebe Waller-Bridge playing a British female criminal-turned-good guy, helping an older, wiser male lead in his adventure. Terribly written, lacking humility, humanity, conscience, or spirit, Waller-Bridges Helena Shaw is simply an awful and inconsistent character that annoys far more than she entertains, even making jokes after one of Indy’s friends is killed during an escape.

Share

On the other hand, with Dead Reckoning we have Haley Atwell as Grace, the well-cast British female criminal-turned-good guy, helping an older, wiser male lead in his adventure. Grace is flawed, frightened, and conflicted, but also confident and heroic, while also showing fear, hesitation, and humility when faced with the situation she’s in. There’s no quips or goofy humor, outside a well-timed jab here and there. And when one of the male lead’s compatriots is killed, she doesn’t make a joke. She is sad, hurt, and carries guilt and remorse over it, which is a far more human reaction to the situation than what we got with Shaw’s character in Indy V.

So, when it comes to introducing a new British female co-lead to a long-running franchise, Dead Reckoning’s Grace buries Indy V’s Helena Shaw in spades.

What’s also great about Dead Reckoning is that it continues to build upon the franchise characters we’ve come to know and love, at least including them in the series instead of leaving them out to pasture. Ving Rhames Luther Stickell and Simon Pegg’s Benji Dunn are excellent additions to this series and it’s great to have them back with each new entry. Rebecca Ferguson’s Ilsa Faust has also become a great staple to the series, having lasted the longest of the female leads of each entry to date, and her role will definitely be controversial after Dead Reckoning.

While it seemed like Cruise was done doing the Bond girl rotation of female leads, particularly with Ilsa becoming his first semi-romantic interest since Michelle Monaghan’s Julia in Mission: Impossible III. It seems like the inclusion of Atwell may be reigniting that rotation or, in the least, resetting Hunt’s romantic pursuits. It’s not quite clear where that will lead at the moment, but I think it’s safe to say that Hunt may well be dedicated to his job, but he’s a romantic at heart. He’s not a James Bond style womanizer by any degree, but he’s a super agent that seeks love, which may the driving force behind his entire identity, especially after learning about his loss in the pre-IMF days.

The stunts of Dead Reckoning are probably the biggest reason folks are showing up for the film, and they’re right to do so. I saw this in IMAX, as I usually do, and it was exactly the kind of big-budget excitement that we expect in a summer blockbuster. Bold, creative, and jaw-dropping, everything is precisely executed and put together in a way that achieves maximum impact. The sound design had me looking around the theater a few times, because I thought we were having an earthquake and that’s the best compliment I can give for that. Coupled with Lorne Balfe’s persistent percussive score, the audio/visual experience of Mission: Impossible - Dead Reckoning - Part One is nothing short of phenomenal.

The trailers, featurettes, and stunt vinettes for the film may leave you thinking it’s all been spoiled, but that’s far from the truth. Of course, it’s always better to have seen as little as possible when going into a film like this, but there’s plenty of action and excitement that has yet to grace your eyeballs that will leave you fulfilled. In terms of comparing this entry to the other ones, I can only say that it’s every bit as consistent as the best of the series. Ghost Protocol continues to be my all-time favorite of this franchise, but all of the films (yes, even M:I 2) are top tier entertainment and I’m grateful for it. In the end, Dead Reckoning is the kind of film that makes you want to see a movie in theaters and that’s an achievement all its own.

Leave a comment

Subscribe now

If you go to the theater this week you can choose from any number of films. You can adventure with Indiana Jones again. You can swing with a bunch of animated Spider-People. You can watch Transformers, you can watch The Flash, you can watch a Pixar movie. Hell, you can watch Jennifer Lawrence get in a fully nude beach brawl.

You can also see a movie about child sex trafficking.

Yup, it’s quite the summer blockbuster line-up until you reach Sound of Freedom, a movie that seemed to come out of nowhere and is not clogging your feed. It beat out Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny on the 4th of July and continues to climb the charts and the airwaves, leaving many pundits stunned.

But, is it really that shocking?

The Rise of Faith-Based Films

Sound of Freedom was financed with both crowdfunding and independent financing through Angel Studios, the faith-based studio that originally began as VidAngel, a controversial filtering service that filtered out explicit material for viewers, particularly those of Christian or Mormon faith. After being sued for copyright by multiple Hollywood studios, the owners eventually settled and sold the service, choosing to create their own content instead of censoring stuff already out there. Through donors and crowdfunding, Angel Studios was born, joining the chorus of faith-based film studios that continue to grow (and impress) within their own little corner of Hollywood.

Movies like Heaven is for Real, War Room, I Can Only Imagine, Soul Surfer, Son of God, and the one that seemed to kick it all off, Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ, itself an independent production (and second-highest grossing of all time, just behind Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy) have left an indelible mark on the industry, showing a continued rise in interest for the genre, which is showing no signs of slowing down.

Tim Ballard and the Reality of Child Trafficking

Directed by Alejandro Monteverde (2015’s Little Boy) with Monteverde and Rod Barr serving as writers, Sound of Freedom stars The Passion of the Christ’s Jim Caviezel as real-life anti-human trafficking organizer, Tim Ballard. A former federal agent with the U.S. Department of Homeland Security's Human Trafficking division, Ballard left his government position and founded Operation Underground Railroad, a non-profit that works with law enforcement all over the world to stop human trafficking.

Ballard is a controversial figure, a Mormon who has taken it upon himself (perhaps ordained by God in his perspective) to get more involved in stopping the modern slave trade of human trafficking. It’s a noble endeavor, but not without its flaws and criticisms, many of them fair and valid. One of the bigger issues is that while Ballard may break up a trafficking group and rescue a group of kids, the question of their well-being after being rescued is another matter and not one that OUR is specifically designed for. The children are frequently returned to their homes and families, while other times held and cycled through endless government agencies before being released back into the wild, where many often return to being trafficked.

It’s a bigger problem that calls into the complexities of “saving” children from these situations that are taking place mostly in third-world countries, seeped in poverty, where a blind eye is turned on the child trafficking industry out of fear, corruption or lack of resources. So, the question becomes, is it better to do nothing? Most would say no. If ten kids being rescued has only five of them returned to normal or better lives, while the other five suffer the same or worse fates, is that not still five saved that otherwise wouldn’t have been? It’s a tricky and morally confounding question. The answers aren’t as easy as armchair quarterbacking the situation from your home in middle America either. It’s because of that complexity that Sound of Freedom becomes so appealing.

As a film, it attempts to answer some of those confounding questions, even if its more unflinchingly dedicated to the cause, regardless of consequences. Breaking the rules and saving kids is the number one priority. The chips fall where they fall after that, even if it’s far more nuanced in a case-by-case basis. One thing to keep in mind is that not every child has the same set of circumstances, something that’s frequently overlooked.

Ballard and his organization were investigated for nearly three years by Utah’s Davis County Attorney Troy Rawlings, which resulted in their exoneration when the case was closed without any charges or ramifications. Ballard remains committed to the organization, which still stands as a controversial one, even while the intentions are noble.

Subscribe now

Sound of Freedom and OUR - The Controversy Explained

So, why all the detail and background on this subject? Well, for one, anything claiming to be a true story deserves to be scrutinized right off the bat. Personally, I don’t like to be misled, and if a “based on a true story” film does it’s job well, then I’ll be Googling and researching the topic the second I exit the theater. Secondly, it’s good to know what you’re walking into sometimes. I know that some folks just want to be entertained for a few hours, but many others want to dig deeper. I respect both sides of that coin, but I definitely fall into the “dig deeper” category.

Angel Studios does a pretty decent job of separating fact from fiction on their website for the film, stipulating the realities and differences of what’s portrayed vs. what actually happened, and I actually applaud their transparency. It’s a rare show for any entertainment group. Usually they want you in the dark and leave things purposefully ambiguous. Of course, you should ALWAYS do your own due diligence and research the story from a number of sources (it’s amazing I should even have to say this), as you’ll find the usual sources playing ping pong with the facts, always keeping the ball in their court.

Vice News has had a field day with Ballard, attempting to tackle his credibility and OUR’s mission (don’t worry, they haven’t reported on Hunter Biden for a year now), and you can find a bevy of reviews from left-leaning sites that deep dive into every point of villification they can find, from The Guardian to Jezebel (which actually leaves it with a positive review despite the attempt to pan it), while more valid sources, such as Variety, give it the nuanced and balanced review.

The other “controversy” over Sound of Freedom is the pay it forward, “free ticket” experiment that Angel Studios is running. People that wish to support the film can purchase tickets that can then be claimed by moviegoers for free via just about any online ticket forum after getting a code at Angel Studios website. The controversy is that the tickets are just being bought up and going unclaimed, which in turn is falsely making Sound of Freedom a box office success. Sure, that makes perfect sense. An independent studio that could barely afford to make the film are now buying up tickets themselves to make it a success. Seems legit.

The problem is that doing that would only buy you a few days, maybe, of being a success. Not even Disney can afford to blanket showings with fake purchases (a conspiracy that was abound when Captain Marvel was released) for any extended amount of time. In the end, audiences will decide what is a success and what isn’t. If it was up to Hollywood, then EVERYTHING would be a hit, and if you think that’s true then The Flash would like to have a word with you.

In the end, the best way to find out is for yourself. And, with a free ticket, that’s a pretty good incentive.

Subscribe now

A Good Movie or QAnon Propoganda?

I’ve seen multiple people (who haven’t seen the film) comment that Sound of Freedom is Q’Anon/Religious/Right-Wing Propoganda, which couldn’t be farther from the truth. Aside from the mention of God twice in the film, Sound of Freedom is devoid of politics or conspiracy theories. If anything, it’s exceptionally earnest and perhaps a bit naive in displaying the unrelenting pursuit of Ballard’s mission. In fact, the film goes out of its way to portray the subject matter as openly and honestly as possible, somehow finding a balance when showing how absolutely horrific the scenario is.

Caviezel exudes a quiet, meditative intensity, sporting the blonde locks that Ballard is known for, while playing him as a soft-spoken, unwavering character with a subdued naivette. He’s not a superhero and he has much to learn in the course of his mission, which escalates when he decides that working for the US Government has his hands tied up in too much red tape. What begins as a gig in taking down pedophiles, child-porn peddlers, and men who frequent other countries to take part in their sick fantasies, turns into an obsession to help save as many kids as he can.

It’s the kind of crusade that is common in Christian religious organizations, albeit a very specific one and not one that’s meant to “save” the kids in a religious sense. “God’s children are not for sale,” says Caviezel at one point, which is his “I’ll be back” line in the film. Cheesy? Yes. Effective? Also, yes.

Mira Sorvino stars as Ballard’s wife and her role is pretty pared down to the point of “housewife”, even as her influence on Ballard is exceptional. Her support is a driving factor for what he chooses to do, which is to immerse himself in the underground world of child sex slaves, posing as a customer looking to drum up big parties for multiple clientele that want to take part in this awful, dark world. Along the way, Ballard teams up with a former Cartel man named Vampiro, played by Bill Camp, who adds a tremendous amount of levity to the film. He’s the supporting actor the film needed and it’s all the better for his presence. A former cartel man, Vampiro now pretends to be in the child trade, but ultimately buys and frees them instead.

What unfolds is a disturbing and shocking journey into the heart of darkness that is child sex slave trafficking. If you’re a parent, Sound of Freedom will no doubt jolt you to attention and grip your heartstrings. You could call it manipulative, but the truth has a way of feeling that way. The good thing is that it’s not exploitative, which is a danger I’d worry about if Hollywood got its hands on this material. Mainstream movies have only tap-danced around this worldwide tragedy, most recently with Rambo: Last Blood of all films.

Performance-wise, Sound of Freedom is solid as a rock. Caviezel sells the idealogical Ballard perfectly, and even shows some humor where it can be worked in, while Camp provides a kind of mentor-like compass to the proceedings. The film really shines with the two lead kids in the film, a brother/sister duo played by Lucás Ávila and Cristal Aparicio, who are kidnapped, separated, and sold into slavery. Their journey serves as a focal point for the broader trade operation and it will make many audiences sick to their stomach to see how it unfolds. The actors, for their part, are phenomenal. Child actors are always a tough sell, especially for something as intense as this, but both of them provide the most realistic portrayal I could imagine given the scope of this film. Without their performance, the film simply would not be as good as it is.

The area where Sound of Freedom lags is in bridging the story together. The scenes themselves work well, but the pacing is jagged, feeling like far too many scenes were cut that were needed to piece together something a little more well built. We needed to know more about who Ballard is, why he makes the choices he makes, and the struggle to balance it all. He makes the seemingly selfless choice to go on this crusade, while a wife and six kids wait for him at home, seemingly unaffected and understanding. I highly doubt that it’s been that simple in the Ballard household and some of that drama and conflict would’ve served tremendously in getting to know the deeper motives behind the protagonist.

There are suggestions that the villains of the film are cartoonish stereotypes, but I’m not sure what kind of nuance you want with these people. While they could have been developed a tad deeper, I was surprised to find how terrifying and realistic they seemed. This wasn’t a bunch of henchmen akin to an 80s action movie, but rather people that looked and felt dangerous, rather than just canon fodder for the hero. If you ran into these guys in a South American jungle you’d rightfully be afraid for your life.

Aesthetically, Sound of Freedom truly shines. Made for a budget of $14 million, this is a film that looks slick, sharp, and gritty. The reason? None of it was shot on green screen, but rather almost all on location in Cartagena, Columbia. And it shows. Frequently, as scenes changed, I was almost mesmerized that I was indeed in a location, not a set. It feels lived in, real, urgent, and even dangerous. Watching Indiana Jones V, I felt like I was at a theme park and never once felt any sense of danger, as it was all CGI and movie set safe. For Sound of Freedom, I felt like I needed a shower by the end, and not just from the ugly realities of the content.

Where Sound of Freedom excels is in making a viable thriller with a complex story under the backdrop of real-world events, filled with characters that are interesting, compelling, and some of them downright evil. It also appeals to our better nature, as humans, shining a light on an oft-ignored tragedy that’s taking place on a daily basis. If nothing else, Sound of Freedom is a film that has the juevos to tell a story that everyone else is ignoring.

Although Sound of Freedom greatly succeeds in being an absolutely frightening, inspiring, and moving cautionary tale about real-world events, it could use the polish of more established filmmakers. That’s not to diminish the work done by Monteverde, who does a great job with what he has, but one has to wonder what someone like Denis Villeneuve, Alfonso Cuarón, or any number of filmmakers who can handle deeper subject matter could put forth in this genre.

The last thing we need is something exploitative, which Sound of Freedom thankfully avoids, while still showcasing the absolute horror of it all. A bigger budget and more experienced pros could certainly pick up the pacing where it’s needed and flesh out the characters, but in the end this is Angel Studios’ baby and they have a very certain way they want things done, which I can respect, seeing as it’s no different with Disney or WB, etc.

By the time Sound of Freedom ends, the emotional wallop of the story hits you hard. While this particular story ends on an inspiring note, the fact is that it doesn’t always end up that way, and I think that showing the good, the bad, and the ugly would make for a more immersive film. As the credits roll you’re prompted with a special message countdown, which is Jim Caviezel talking about how the film was made and how important it is for people to see it in the fight against child sex trafficking. At one point a QR code is put onscreen for you to scan and take part in the pay it forward campaign. Even Caviezel admits that it’s a weird thing, but a necessary one in order to share the message of the film.

While some may see that as some kind of shameless grab at attention, I can only say: And? Are any of the big studios any different? The ones holding all the cards like to pretend they’re above everything else, but an independent film trying to get asses in seats and maybe, just maybe, get them to take notice of a worldwide crisis isn’t exactly a scam. It’s just a different way of doing things and guess what? It’s working.

Leaving the theater and reviewing what I just saw, the weirdest feeling came over me, which is that, even though I had no intention of seeing it, Sound of Freedom is absolutely one of the best movies I’ve seen this year. It tackles a subject no one else is tackling and does so with grace, balance, and care, while also not shying away from the horrors of it all. When compared to the lackluster films I’ve seen so far, including Indy V, Fast X, Ant-Man and The Wasp: Quantumania, and Transformers: Rise of The Beasts, Sound of Freedom is by far a superior film.

Share

The Secret Formula Behind The Film’s Success (So Far)

Now, the big question to all of that is the most important one: WHY? Why is this little faith-based thriller better than all of those other films and why are so many people going to see it? Are they all just right-wing religious crackpots looking for some propaganda to entertain them?

The truth is that people are going to see it because people want to see good stories. They want to see human stories. They want to see stories they can relate to, whether they’re fantasy or fiction. Hollywood has crashed enough cars, transformed enough robots, cracked open enough multiverses, and put the shock pads on enough dead franchises. People are tired. People are hungry and they’re going to get in line for the stuff that feeds and nourishes them, as humans and as audiences.

This is why Across The Spider-Verse is such a runaway hit. It’s creative, intuitive, and it taps into the human drama that we can relate to, even with hundreds of Spider-People running around. Hollywood can only distract us so long with their brand of soulless big-budget bullshit. Eventually, we need to fill our bellies with something of substance, and the box office is going to reflect that, one Sound of Freedom at a time.

Personally, I see the success of something like Sound of Freedom as a small beacon of hope for more diverse, thought-provoking, and ballsy films to still eek their way into an over-crowded big-budget theatrical world, giving audiences far more to choose from than the latest superhero slugfest, franchise revamp, or mindless animated drivel. At this point, I’ll take whatever we can get and, in the least, I’m happy to see the effort still being made to fight the good fight for the little guy.

Leave a comment