The Karate Kid Part II.

Review #2203: The Karate Kid Part II.

Cast: 
Ralph Macchio (Daniel LaRusso), Pat Morita (Mr. Miyagi), Nobu McCarthy (Yukie), Tamlyn Tomita (Kumiko), Danny Kamekona (Sato), Yuji Okumoto (Chozen Toguchi), Charlie Tanimoto (Miyagi Chōjun), Joey Miyashima (Toshio), Marc Hayashi (Taro), with Martin Kove (John Kreese), and William Zabka (Johnny Lawrence) Directed by John G. Avildsen (#003 - Rocky, #895 - Rocky V, #1689 - W.W. and the Dixie Dancekings, and #1759 - The Karate Kid)

Review: 
Sure, The Karate Kid (1984) was quite the hit, so sure, let's make a sequel pretty quickly. Not only does the sequel see the return of Macchio and Morita as the lead stars, it also features Robert Mark Kamen as the screenwriter again (Elizabeth Shue however did not return). As one probably would see coming, the events of the first film are briefly shown again that includes the ending and a subsequent scene that was planned for the original film's ending is utilized here with Zabka and Kove. When producers and writers had a conflict over what was to be the basis of the second film (Miyagi's homeland versus the revenge of Kreese), a compromise was made to have the third film feature the revenge aspect, which is how one got The Karate Kid Part III (released in 1989), complete with Kamen and Avildsen back as writer and director. Interestingly enough, the presence of military bases on Okinawa make a certain type of landscape look as opposed to, say, Oahu in Hawaii.

Honestly, it is a decent movie, but it definitely is a case of a movie that threatens to unravel because of the last half. I do like the idea of our two leads branching out into a different landscape to build on the idea of trying to continue to find personal balance that, well, relates to karate without just leaning into violence, albeit now on Okinawa Island (complete with a storm that surely had a little bit of fun from The Rains Came [1939]). Those two dynamics that arise in Macchio & Tomita and Morita & McCarthy do provide some interest when it comes to showing the nature of what they are beyond karate (or what they could be, in the case of the young ones when compared to ones filled in what-could-have-been). Morita makes the movie work as Miyagi's story in slowly unraveling layers beyond just being someone that could do karate when it comes to the heart and the choices that come with looking on the homeland again. Really though, the most interesting sequence is a brief one with Macchio about finding the best thing one could do for their dad being, well, being there. This was actually the film debut of Kamekona, who had appeared in countless TV shows (most significantly Hawaii Five-O on-and-off from 1968 to its end in 1980). At least he seems to have fun in his endearing game with Morita (we are talking about middle-aged men and one really old grudge). Okumoto does fine with such a silly buildup to an inevitable fight for the reason of just needing a fight because at least he plays it with enthusiasm. The movie at least utilizes its location with charm that doesn't make one think it was there just for vacations or window dressing, particularly with its dance near the end (aside from of course, the fight that has to come from it, heh).

And then of course there is the karate, which is totally fine but inevitably amusing to see play for a setup that doesn't really try to hold a candle to the original because of how familiar it ends up being. A good chunk of the film is the build of, well, a guy not wanting to fight while his friend is somehow roped by some chump into plenty of dumb antics (like say, a big bet on breaking six blocks of ice) because of course he is. The final fight is amusing to the point of absurdity in trying to be both of closing the circle of how the film started (deciding to not kill their opponent in front of people) and ensure that the film did not in fact close on rain (don't get me started on the bit with the little drums that have swinging beads). As a whole, it is a sequel purely made for crowd-pleasing that tells a decent story when it comes to Miyagi while being pretty familiar stuff the rest of the way around for a solidly average film if one was already on board with what the original film had in mind with cheery karate.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Missing in Action.

Review #2202: Missing in Action.

Cast: 

Chuck Norris (Colonel James Braddock), M. Emmet Walsh (Jack "Tuck" Tucker), David Tress (Senator Maxwell Porter), Lenore Kasdorf (Ann Fitzgerald), Ernie Ortega (General Vinh), James Hong (General Tran), E. Erich Anderson (Masucci), and Pierrino Mascarino (Jacques) Directed by Joseph Zito.

Review: 

Much in the same way that a fruit can be cut several different ways, one can really do movies with similar subject matter with pretty different execution. If you remember, James Cameron was behind the original treatment for what became Rambo: First Blood Part II in May of 1985 (he had written it when waiting to start filming The Terminator), which, well, was an action film where Rambo went from being a "documenter of possible prisoners held by jailers" to "fuck 'em". Incidentally, earlier in the decade, Robert R. Garwood (a Private), among one of the last American POW from the Vietnam War (as captured in 1965 but one who did not return to America until 1979) faced a court martial after being accused of being a collaborator with the enemy that saw him stripped of his rank (he had claimed that American POWs were left behind in Vietnam). Even decades after the war, the Department of Defense lists "current numbers of Americans who are unaccounted for in Southeast Asia" at over a thousand. Anyway, Cameron's script led to inspiration (as one says) for the Cannon Group to see if they could do their own film involving war veterans and beat the Rambo film to the punch, which they did. In fact, they filmed two Missing in Action films, with the original plan to have the one directed by Lance Hool (which involved the POW days of the lead character) be released first before the rescue one...but the commercial prospects were found to be better with this film and so the other film was titled Missing in Action 2: The Beginning and released in March of 1985 (not long after the first one!) and somehow two months before the Rambo sequel. All of this is how the first film gets a screenplay and writing credit that has Arthur Silver, Larry Levinson and Steve Bing listed for characters, James Bruner for screenplay, and John Crowther and Lance Hool for story. 1988 saw the release of Braddock: Missing in Action III, which was considerably less successful.

Norris has stated that the film was one he made as a memorial for his younger brother Wieland, who died in combat in Vietnam. It was also the first film he did with the Cannon Group. This was the fifth film of Joseph Zito, who had directed the fourth (and intended final) film of the Friday the 13th series earlier in 1984, although his previous effort The Prowler (1981) has received far more interesting notice in later years. He did one further film with Norris in Invasion U.S.A. (1985). Imagine making a 100-minute movie with as little tension as possible and you have something that probably would fit right at home with keeping one eye open when trying to, say, paint. Norris seems to have settled into a Clint Eastwood impersonation that happens to do action with feet and blasting away, but it isn't particularly infused with even the slightest bit of charisma besides the minimum. The film somehow feels small in scale because by blasting away with faceless enemies (Hong doesn't even make it to the 45th minute but he does what the film needs before being disposed of) and having just Walsh with the semblance of energy, one just finds an average hollow film. Walsh is sly enough that being a sidekick character in his mid-forties is a hoot fitting enough to engage with. Well, I can say this much...it makes one realize that um, maybe I misjudged Good Guys Wear Black (1978) when it came to calling Norris one who sounded like an "instructional guidebook for using a power tool". This film at least drops the pretense of playing it for the thriller angle and goes straight for an action cheese fest. Sure, it lacks a true villain besides the nameless folks getting shot at, but one can at least get some sort of curiosity of seeing Norris playing opposite a character actor pro in Walsh (rest in peace) as opposed to trying to wedge in a romantic angle between Norris and Kasdorf (at least this one doesn't go like that aforementioned Good Guys film and explode a plane). I especially like how the ending is a dramatic build to...storming a building to show the truth. As a whole, it may have beaten First Blood Part II when it comes to POW rescue films, but it doesn't hold too much of a candle in overall execution, instead being an average film that lacks the final push to be anything other than the action film picked after the pile has nearly been finished.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Suburbia (1983).

Review #2201: Suburbia.

Cast: 

Bill Coyne (Evan Johnson), Chris Pedersen (Jack Diddley), Jennifer Clay (Sheila), Timothy Eric O'Brien (Skinner), Wade Walston (Joe Schmo), Flea (Razzle), André Boutilier (Peg Leg), Grant Miner (Keef), Christina Beck (T'resa), Maggie Ehrig (Mattie), Lee Frederick (Jim Tripplett), Jeff Prettyman (Bob Skokes), Don Allen (Officer Bill Rennard), Andrew Pece (Ethan Johnson), and J. Dinan Myrtetus (Sheila's father) Written and Directed by Penelope Spheeris (#238 - The Little Rascals, #806 - Wayne's World, #1019 - Dudes, #1657 - The Decline of Western Civilization, #1821 - The Decline of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years, and #1986 - The Decline of Western Civilization Part III)

Review: 

"It’s an example of the kind of movies I should have been making for my whole career and I wasn’t able to."

Yes, The Decline of Western Civilization (1981) is a punk rock documentary that one can find plenty to appreciate for its look within the punk rock scene and the documentation done by someone with the guts to just let it all hang out in Penelope Spheeris, but it was not the kind of film that screamed audience favorite. So, she set out to make a punk narrative feature, one that would take inspiration from various stories she had seen and heard, whether that involved roaming dogs or a house abandoned (apparently it was like that because the housing tract had been seized through eminent domain in order to help build a freeway). The film came about at the hands of a guy name Bert L. Dragin that apparently wanted to make movies (such as the one as presented to him by Spheeris when showing the script) because he had made considerable money as a furniture chain owner, albeit one that would like a partner to help cover the costs of making a fairly cheap movie. Naturally, this led to Roger Corman, who agreed to help with financing. Of course, because it was made with Corman as a producer, he was behind some of the ideas present in the film when it comes to what Spheeris defined as having to "either have sex or violence every 10 minutes". Interestingly, Dragin would become a director for two films of his own with Summer Camp Nightmare (1987) and Twice Dead (1988), with Spheeris co-writing the script with Dragin for the former. The film did not get much of a release besides a few festivals, but Spheeris maintains pride in the film, even once stating that she would be happy if one remembered her for this film (as opposed to Wayne's World); her next film after this was The Boys Next Door (1985).

The cast (with a few exceptions) were basically a collection of street youths and punk musicians that Spheeris recruited under the belief that it was better to try and get them to have them there and try to act rather than cast a bunch of actors and try to make them sound like punks. Perhaps not surprisingly, you can hear a few bits of live punk rock music throughout the film from bands such as D.I., T.S.O.L., and the Vandals (and yes, that is indeed Flea as a cast member in the same year he became a founding member of Red Hot Chili Peppers, although he is present in the film mostly involving rats - apparently people). Oh sure, it's not hard to find movies about wayward youths that find their own sense of family within others around them. But you sure won't find many films that ride the line of shock value and interest in the behavior of those that are shaped by the thing that surrounds them in suburbia that might as well be the second level of hell. The 1980s might have been a prosperous time for some, but it sure wasn't the easiest time for those who were left adrift and scattered in the streets to fend away. It isn't a case of judging a book by its cover, because, well, they are no angels, it is merely a case of trying to figure out how the hell the book got to be the way that it was in the first place. One is not there to watch a cry of sympathy of the punks but instead a lament for the circumstances that drew them there in the first place that happens to have a few moments to grimace or chuckle with along the way as the makeshift family hurtles towards inevitability. There are the rejected punks and the rejected when it comes to those with supposed "values" that like to discuss plans in a strip club or shoot at stray dogs (time flies when calling it in the name of "citizens against crime"). Some of the acting is hit and miss, such as with Coyne, who basically is lost in the shuffle once it gets to the group, although Clay is fairly decent. Of course, it really is a movie straight for the vibes as opposed to a collection of strong acting, and only Pedersen really strikes it best when it comes the contradictions that arise from calling oneself "The Rejected": one that would rather be around punks than his stepfather...cop. Allen in that regard, as the one sane adult figure (namely in recognizing the wasteland that folks around the suburb are wallowing in), is efficient in that regard to contrast the simple threat presented by Frederick and Prettyman that are stock but on point. If you squint hard enough, one might find a bit of The Wild One (1953) when it comes to rebels that, well, nobody tells them what to do, which in one memorable sequence involves trying to attend a funeral of one of their fallen that ends with a rough-and-tumble when the truth hits a bit too close. As a whole, it is a messy movie in the ways only a punk rock movie would make sense to be messy that doesn't try to play easy sympathy for its lead figures but instead looks at the wasteland and the ones that arise from suburbs turning from an idea of haven into a mirage. Its a rough film that rides on vibes for quite the curious experience.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Return of the Musketeers.

Review #2200: The Return of the Musketeers.

Cast: 

Michael York (d'Artagnan), Oliver Reed (Athos), Frank Finlay (Porthos), Richard Chamberlain (Aramis), C. Thomas Howell (Raoul), Geraldine Chaplin (Anne of Austria), Kim Cattrall (Justine de Winter), Philippe Noiret (Cardinal Mazarin), Christopher Lee (the Comte de Rochefort), Roy Kinnear (Planchet), Eusebio Lázaro (the Duke of Beaufort), Jean-Pierre Cassel (Cyrano de Bergerac), Alan Howard (Oliver Cromwell), David Birkin (Louis XIV), and Bill Paterson (Charles I) Directed by Richard Lester (#541 - A Hard Day's Night, #594 - A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, #785 - Superman II, #786 - Superman III, #972 - The Three Musketeers, #976 - The Four Musketeers, and #1939 - Help!)

Review: 

“I really won’t talk about The Return of the Musketeers, I never have and I won’t now. But I think you can draw your own conclusions.”

On April 19, 1989, The Return of the Musketeers was released into European theaters. Let us refresh ourselves by going back a few years. In 1844, the adventure novel The Three Musketeers [Les Trois Mousquetaires] was first serialized, as written by Alexandre Dumas and his collaborator Auguste Maquet, which was the first of three Musketeer novels between 1844 and 1847 (Twenty Years After and The Vicomte of Bragelonne: Ten Years Later); Dumas had been inspired by Gatien de Courtilz de Sandras and his memoirs of Charles de Batz de Castelmore d'Artagnan, an actual captain of the Musketeers of the Guard in the 1600s. Films have been done of the Musketeers since the early days of film, albeit mostly of the first book. At any rate, the Salkinds (Alexander and Ilya) had an initial idea of getting the Beatles to play the roles of the Musketeers for a film. Years went by (and, well, no Beatles to play the roles) before the Salkinds asked Richard Lester to do the film, who had not directed a film since The Bed Sitting Room (1969); noted novelist George MacDonald Fraser was hired to do the script. The Three Musketeers (1973) was filmed so heavily, that, well, clearly the Salkinds thought to pull a quick one and eventually tell the actors of the impending The Four Musketeers (1974) rather than having to strain hard to make one long film. So, now in 1989, was a return for Lester after his previous film had been Finders Keepers (1984). The Salkinds were not behind the production (in fact, they wouldn't let any old footage be used here), but Pierre Spengler, a producer involved with the previous two films, was there to produce this one; Fraser returned to do the script and a handful of cast members from the previous two films were there (even William Hobbs, who was behind the stage combat for the previous two films, returned). Lester has not been particularly keen on talking about the film too much in the 35 years since the release of this film, one that was both a trying production along with one that did not even get a proper American release (it was put on cable in 1991 for the States). Lester did one more project as a director with the 1991 concert film Get Back before essentially retiring (this was also the last screenplay written by Fraser).

The nature of Twenty Years Later basically entails that you won't really see all of the core of York, Reed, Finlay, and Chamberlain at once (the latter is credited as "special appearance by") all together at once. In fact, this was the last film to feature Kinnear, also returning from the previous two films (alongside Lee, Chaplin, and Cassel). On September 19, 1988, he suffered a horrific accident while on a horse that saw him fall off that saw him fracture his pelvis (while also having internal bleeding). The next day, he died from a heart attack while in the hospital. As such, seeing what a mix of him alongside stand-in shots (and a soundalike in parts) will probably be a bit jarring. The whole film is a jumble when it all comes down to assessment, but I would venture to say that a decent romp of yesteryear is more ideal to sit through once than not at all. They may be aged and may not be as big in star power as they were fifteen years ago, but it is hard to resist the qualities that come through most in York (if someone is compelled to do a voiceover, might as well be him) and Reed (when he is on, he is right there...), although at least Howell and Cattrall make for adequate newcomers to the smile game of adventure (one can't match Faye Dunaway exactly, but Cattrall at least seems to to be having fun trying). Finlay may be tired, but at least he has bits and pieces to contribute that go further than the "here is a scene there and here is one for the climax because I can" of Chamberlain or particularly Chaplin (you might say Lee is all too brief, but we* adore Lee being there at all). I particularly like the sequence involving a litany of traps within a rough-and-tumble fight that sees it go all the way to the foundation (literally). The clash of trying to play faithfulness to the source material goes to a point (for one thing, the threat was actually de Winter's illegitimate son, but even if this was a hit, would you have expected, say, another of these films where the Musketeers all die?), because there are moments where the strain of trying to keep up with its structure makes it nearly crash into pieces. As a whole, the 102-minute runtime makes for a fairly sustainable feature that deserved better than to be shuffled away as just a lower-release film or Lester's last hurrah, if only because there is something worth seeing with that spark of familiar wonder and chuckles. 

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

*"we" being me, myself, and I

Civil War.

Review #2199: Civil War.

Cast: 

Kirsten Dunst (Lee Smith), Wagner Moura (Joel), Cailee Spaeny (Jessie), Stephen McKinley Henderson (Sammy), Nick Offerman (The President), Nelson Lee (Tony), Evan Lai (Bohai), Sonoya Mizuno (Anya), and Jefferson White (Dave) Directed by Alex Garland (#884 - Ex Machina and #1581 - Annihilation)

Review: 

"There is something in the film which is trying to be protective of [journalists]. I think serious journalism needs protecting, because it’s under attack, so I wanted to make those people ‘heroes’ to put them front and center.”

Sure, you could have a few pre-conceptions about what the film is or what the film is not, blah blah blah. I went into the film with the bare minimum of attention given to it, which either meant that it would be fine or pretty bad. Admittedly, the first image that came to mind when watching the film was different from what I thought I would be wondering. Specifically, "Saigon Execution". It is perhaps one of the most famous images to come out of the Vietnam War, one that went far beyond just being awarded the 1969 Pulitzer Prize for Spot News Photography. On February 1, 1968, Eddie Adams was a member of the Associated Press that was in Saigon (as known at the time, as opposed to Ho Chi Minh City) alongside an NBC News TV cameraman in Võ Sửu that saw a capture of captain Lem (a member of the Viet Cong) by a general named Nguyễn Ngọc Loan. Both Adams and Võ Sửu captured a moment crystallized in time: Loan shooting Lem in the head. But the thing about Adams is that he was a man of numerous things as an observer: if he was to be remembered for anything, he wanted to be remembered for what he did beyond a photo caught in reflex, because above all, he had his principles to stand by. He was once quoted as saying that "Death is the greatest kick of all. That's why the save it for last." However it worked out, the photo has endured far more than the video (perhaps most notably, it was featured in 1968's Head)., to where even Adams has endured in memory more than Suu. I figured that this was a more interesting way to start talking about the film than simply saying that right before its release, its director stated his intention to lay off directing in the near future, among other things when it came to promoting the film and its intent.

It's interesting, Garland wanted to make a movie about journalists on the frontlines (and there are a few good journalists among a cadre of others that blur the lines), but really, he might have made one long dark joke instead, which basically has the one idea that above all, the observer is not really just an observer just because they wear a vest saying "PRESS" on it. One is observing the observer observing events in their own viewpoint and decisions made to get this coverage (because they aren't just shooting it on their own), basically. Admittedly, once you have a title like "Civil War", you pretty much have put a bullseye on your head, because what else could you have called it? (besides, I went into it barely noticing that there was meant to be a map of which places were fractured from each other because, what difference does it make?) This is a film that has one of the first lines involve a president say "Some are already calling this the greatest victory in the history of mankind" to go alongside footage of unrest, because if one thought the age they live in was bleak (what with the various things one could protest for, such as a less intrusive Israel or other worldly concerns), try this on for size. It doesn't go into too many specifics of exactly how one is in a civil war with various separated territories, but I think using a bit of imagination works out here, particularly since this is basically a road movie with journalists that either have their souls hollowed out or on the verge of it happening, which makes for a fairly unsettling film for those into what it shows (and doesn't show). Trying to frame it as some sort of centrist filmmaking is pretty shortsighted when you get down to it. Besides, the performances work out best when it comes to showing the trials and tribulations of wanting to go out to gunfire with a ready camera on hand. Dunst excels here with no false notes detected when it comes to a tired old soul that could actually play for anyone familiar with the beats of a job that nevertheless seems to have lost a bit of themselves in that grind of production. They know what lines they can cross and shouldn't cross, and it gnaws at them for one can't unsee even when one closes their eyes, so Dunst being paired with Spaeny in a mirror of experience on the frontlines makes for a pretty compelling dynamic to watch play out to the most reasoned conclusion, for which each handle deftly. Moura probably ranks as the most thrill-seeking among the core four, which actually works out pretty well in showing levity along with the craven nature that comes in being gripped in the chase, at least when compared to a more seasoned pro on the last steps on a road in Henderson. Offerman is around for both the start and finish of the film as the object of fascination that has more said around him that, well, use your imagination on how it goes to see a face meant to be playing a dictator.  Probably the most gripping scene is the one with an uncredited Jesse Plemons that exudes the certain terror that I'm sure comes with encountering the back woods on the road. He handles it masterfully for a certain amount of time that keeps the film firmly on its toes. It is certainly a loud film at times that is expected with a dystopian war film that doesn't let a stone go unturned, even in a supposedly quiet moment where a trip to a friendly-looking place leads to a darkly amusing realization. The ending helps seal the film's fate in terms of realizing just where one will find themselves when it comes to the demands of an occupation and what it might do to their soul in the process as a certain image plays out in the credits that really might not be as emphatic in its ending as one assumes at first. In the end, it is a solid 109-minute effort in tension as carried by its main quartet to make for an interesting recommendation for those who know what they are getting into in terms of imagination and the grind that arises from it.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The First Omen.

Review #2198: The First Omen.

Cast: 

Nell Tiger Free (Margaret Daino), Sônia Braga (Sister Silvia), Ralph Ineson (Father Brennan), Bill Nighy (Cardinal Lawrence), Tawfeek Barhom (Father Gabriel), Maria Caballero (Luz Valez), Nicole Sorace (Carlita Scianna), Ishtar Currie-Wilson (Sister Anjelica), Andrea Arcangeli (Paolo), and Charles Dance (Father Harris) Directed by Arkasha Stevenson.

Review: 

You may recall that the idea for The Omen (1976) came about because producer Harvey Bernhard had a conversation with a friend involving the Bible and religion, which is where writer David Seltzer came in to eventually craft it into a screenplay (amusingly, Seltzer was first reluctant to do the screenplay because he did not have a belief in the devil). Richard Donner was picked to direct and, well, you know the rest. If you've seen a film with a possibly evil child and a worried mother such as, say, Rosemary’s Baby (1968) or The Exorcist (1973), well, of course it is the kind of thing to inspire a few follow-ups. This "First Omen" was first planned back in 2016, which followed long after the wake of sequel (Damien - Omen II [1978]) after sequel (Omen III: The Final Conflict [1981]) after attempted TV thing (an "Omen IV") after, well, a 2006 remake (which apparently barely changed anything). But here we are with a film set in 1971 that is the debut feature debut by Arkasha Stevenson, a former photojournalist-turned-director in her feature film debut. The screenplay was done by Tim Smith, Arkasha Stevenson, and Keith Thomas while the story was done by Ben Jacoby. There was an idea to have this be one of those films you encounter on streaming with Hulu, since this is a 20th Century (Fox) Studios distributed film, but these plans changed. Apparently, the movie almost had a rating of NC-17 because of one certain scene that had to have a few cuts made. Such is life.

Stevenson has professed herself as an Omen fan, which is a pretty good sign. Admittedly, trying to make fear enough to drive people back to church sounds about on par for a film that wants to go beat on beat to set up the original film (of course, if one remembers the original film, think back to what is found in a certain cemetery). The end result is a decent experience that isn't nearly as much of a cheap imitation as it could have turned out to be, which basically means that it is an average rendition of the original 1976 movie that was already pretty average to begin with. If wrapped with enough patience to go with the idea of something really, really spooky beyond a few weird nuns, well, you will be totally fine here because the performances generally help the film retain the believability of not making one desire to go for overt theatricality. Free in particular does well with the great vulnerability that arises in someone who is probably way over their head with handling not only the turmoil that comes in a cloudy age of doubt but the very idea that something may very well lurk within the blood. Pawn or no pawn, she is not merely there to be used as just as an object to go into the screaming night, which helps to sell the climax when it finally gets to a certain point of anticipation for dread. Sorace makes for a worthwhile pairing for that arrangement of vulnerability and shaken self that practically mirrors Free, which is an interesting task when the first scene of them involves, uh, licking. There is a certain type of confidence to admire in Ineson that does not waver or seem to be playing off as merely just someone who happens to be playing a role once inhabited by Patrick Troughton (if you recall the priest in the original, naturally). The threat presented is in the people that act as if all that is wrong is just, well, another thing among things in "Years of Lead" (okay, the film doesn't mention that term, but you get to hear historical terms pop up for films sometimes), which work in that stone-cold conviction of those who really see their way as the one and only for spirit and all, regardless of who happens to be lurking behind. Folks ready for something on the unsettling side (as opposed to gore) will be mostly on point with what the film sells. Honestly, it is the ending that probably makes the film shake a bit too much near the deep end. Regardless of the quality of the film before it, do I need anything to lay the hint further films when one is already bearing the cross of being "The First Omen". At any rate, this is a solidly decent time if one is interested in carefully placed blocks of dread that manages to utilize its 119-minute runtime to useful execution to make a solid pick.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Monkey Man.

Review #2197: Monkey Man.

Cast: 

Dev Patel (Kid/Bobby/Monkey Man), Sharlto Copley (Tiger), Pitobash (Alphonso), Vipin Sharma (Alpha), Sikandar Kher (Rana), Sobhita Dhulipala (Sita), Ashwini Kalsekar (Queenie), Adithi Kalkunte (Neela), and Makarand Deshpande (Baba Shakti) Directed by Dev Patel.

Review: 

“I think the action genre has sometimes been abused by the system. I wanted to give it real soul, real trauma, real pain and you guys deserve that. And I wanted to infuse it with a little bit of culture.”

Really, for once you have to thank Netflix. No, seriously, this was a film that could have been relegated to the lands of streaming, because they bought the worldwide rights to the film when it was completed in 2021. Fortunately, they didn't have the guts to actually release it because it turns out calling it "John Wick in Mumbai" is not giving the movie the credit it deserves in reaching audiences. Jordan Peele saw the film and helped to get it released under Universal Pictures in acquisition. Of course, all of this undersells the toughness that came in actually filming the movie, where Patel broke his hand on the first action scene filmed, which was one of a string of injuries to befall the production. Patel wrote the story for the film and co-wrote the screenplay with Paul Angunawela and John Collee. I should have figured that Patel had an appreciation of Enter the Dragon before seeing this film, because it does become apparently by the end that Patel wanted to make a movie that meshed the wide variety of old movies (such as the aforementioned Bruce Lee classic) he had seen to go with inspiration from the Hindu deity Hanuman and tales his grandfather had told him about as a child. So yes, you can thank Netflix for having no guts to release a movie so that better people can swoop in and believe it would work in a theater instead. 

Sure, there is probably something to be said about the film in its ideas on certain types of living when it comes to India that relates to now or something, but the film's heart is entirely on making a kickass movie of the underdog. At a crisp 121-minute runtime is an achievement by Patel as director and actor that shows worthwhile passion in the right places that has the marking of one's soul to make for a distinct action experience. There is that certain look one sees when it comes to his eyes and expression for a good part of his scenes, regardless of if it involves a fight scene (there are a few of them, but the major ones are spread out) or not. That look is one of drive, one that is ready to take whatever hit he thinks is coming next, which is plenty of them when considering the scenes spent with a monkey mask and the eventual turn into mythic hero (really that turn of hero among the underclass could be seen in films beyond action flicks with the genre of the Western, arguably). In a film packed with seemingly everyone wanting to make a hustle, his hustle is all-consuming vengeance that is quite believable when it comes to a head. His pursuit is our pursuit, and the action that comes with it makes it all the more entertaining because it is paced so effectively. Copley is only in the film for those scenes involving fights in the ring, but even with that he is quite enjoyably in his showmanship charm. Kher and Deshpande each make for compelling threats in terms of the power they represent in their public face that aren't merely just people to be taken down in a single swoop. Their presence in power and how they convey it makes the film all the more involving when it comes to the pursuit of ass-kicking. The rest of the actors do pretty well to fill the landscape of manipulators and the manipulated that make for a worthwhile environment to watch the furor take place, whether that involves a bit of a relief from Pitobash or that quiet tension in Dhulipala. In the film's eyes, when it comes to the structure of power, the one big threat to that is someone with none of it left to lose. When the action sequences come into focus and blast one's senses away, it reminds one that the movies really can be fun when one sees the soul behind it in execution and intent, particularly with its ending that makes it come full circle with the best of respect. Regardless of what Patel plans to do as a director (in terms of genre), that buildup of tension and intensity is one to see for itself in a theater. All in all, Monkey Man is a wonderful winner for the viewer and for the ones who get to see it, particularly in a theater.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Late Night with the Devil.

Review #2196: Late Night with the Devil.

Cast: 

David Dastmalchian (Jack Delroy), Laura Gordon (Dr. June Ross-Mitchell), Ian Bliss (Carmichael the Conjurer), Fayssal Bazzi (Christou), Ingrid Torelli (Lilly D'Abo), Rhys Auteri (Gus McConnell), Nicole Chapman (Cleo James), Georgina Haig (Madeleine Delroy), Josh Quong Tart (Leo Fiske), and Michael Ironside (the Narrator) Written and Directed by Colin Cairnes and Cameron Cairnes.

Review: 

"In the '70s and '80s, there was something slightly dangerous about late-night TV. Talk shows in particular were a window into some strange adult world. We thought combining that charged, live-to-air atmosphere with the supernatural could make for a uniquely frightening film experience."

Sure, some films just come out of the blue. The Cairnes brothers had worked on a handful of television and film productions (in or around their native Australia), such as 100 Bloody Acres (2012) and Scare Campaign (2016), which had limited releases, but this film came out of the intent of the two to do something that could be self-contained, which eventually sprang with what they saw as "always felt a little bit taboo and dangerous to us as kids" with late-night talk shows of long ago. Filmed in Australia with a varied level of funding that makes this a production of Australia-UAE-USA, Late Night with the Devil was first shown on the festival circuit in early 2023, but some of us are fortunate to get a screening in a theater (IFC Films and Shudder are behind the distribution for the States prior to release in Australia, and, well, by mid-April one could stream it, so you get the idea). There is a mix of effects that range from the practical to digital to the use of AI-generated ones (with the last one: I don't care for AI as anything other than a guiding tool, so go with that in mind). 

By default, one pretty much compares found footage movies to The Blair Witch Project (1999) when it comes to achieving some sort of effect, I suppose. Fortunately, since that movie is massively overrated, clearing the bar of "Blair Witch" is a step in the right direction, and the conceit generated here by this film works out pretty well for gnarly interest for 93 minutes. I think it is more a movie I wished I liked even more than I did, because while it is a pretty good one, there are a few quibbles one can have, whether in its starting conceit or with its finish, which you may or may not see arise pretty quickly. So yes, it involves the pursuit of ratings under the guise of curiosity, and the opening is the only part that doesn't take place around the set of the show, which does look pretty nice in capturing a feeling of a time long past. The performance of Dastmalchian is the key to the whole film to being what it is when it comes to having to play a second-rate host. Apparently, it was an article he wrote in a magazine about regional hosts that got him asked first. He excels here in that clear-cut balance of self-assuring charm that has the layer of something lurking beyond the surface of someone who you can see loves the audience member that only a showbiz person can love when wanting to love them in confines bigger than one could imagine. Late night hosts can feel like one's friend (unless it is someone who sucks, like Jim-), so it is a tightrope to walk in not playing it as just a Johnny Carson pastiche or clear-cut smarm, and he does well to work it out. Bliss is the one who gets to work out the smarm in a spin probably loosely inspired by James Randi, the famed skeptic and former magician that had a handful of appearances dedicated to knocking on alleged paranormal activity (such as fraud Uri Geller, who failed to bend spoons like a fraud on live TV and then failed to successfully sue Randi when he wrote a book calling him a fraud) who also offered a cash prize if someone could prove their powers (no one ever did). His skepticism fuels the film with worthwhile conflict that is is self-aggrandizing in the most delightful of senses, particularly when paired against Gordon and her do-gooder attitude to trying to be validated in a interesting sort of contradictions (as only one can do, with a book tour but totally not willing to go all-out in parading a teenager on television, sure). Auteri plays a quality sidekick to the presentation as it degrades into one certain type of desperation in mind. Torelli plays pretty key to the film as well when it comes to an aura that likes to back in the glow of a camera by staring right into it that fits right in with the movie's presentation of clear-cut terror looming. The ending can be a bit hit or miss depending on one likes to see dread stick the landing when it finally boils to a head. Personally, this might seem odd, but I kind of wish the film ended just a minute or two before it really ends, because one could really have it go completely Twilight Zone and have it end with a great twist involving a man sacrificing the things around him to be #1 only to be trapped in a never-ending illusion. But at any rate, I accept the conclusion when it comes to sealing some entertaining dread in footage form for a movie that is on the level in pretty good execution from everyone involved. It is the kind of indie film that could make a solid recommendation on a late night for one who craves building of dread within comfortable confines.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire.

Review #2195: Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire.

Cast: 

Paul Rudd (Gary Grooberson), Carrie Coon (Callie Spengler), Finn Wolfhard (Trevor Spengler), Mckenna Grace (Phoebe Spengler), Kumail Nanjiani (Nadeem Razmaadi), Patton Oswalt (Dr. Hubert Wartzki), Celeste O'Connor (Lucky Domingo), Logan Kim (Podcast), Emily Alyn Lind (Melody), James Acaster (Dr. Lars Pinfield), Bill Murray (Dr. Peter Venkman), Dan Aykroyd (Dr. Raymond "Ray" Stantz), Ernie Hudson (Winston Zeddemore), Annie Potts (Janine Melnitz), and William Atherton (Mayor Walter Peck) Directed by Gil Kenan.

Review: 

Admittedly, Ghostbusters (1984) was basically a perfect comedy movie that is hard to replicate when it comes to the successors that arose in its wake. The best thing to come out afterwards from this "franchise" probably depends on one's age, but it is pretty safe to say the 2009 video game was probably close to or, well, the best one of the lot, which now has five films (you remember: 1989, 2016 [don't know], 2021, and here), with the latter being enough of a hit to generate the idea of going further in busting (sure, this is the third of these films that like to brand themselves as "Ghost Corps", which I maintain is a silly name). I do wonder what folks care most about a film involving people that are probably a bit nutty enough to have to commit to fighting beings that play havoc with random things from time to time. The original 1989 sequel was light in the idea of strife when it comes to maintaining teamwork in the face of doubt while Afterlife presented a solid adventure of growing back the family that just happened to have ghosts in Oklahoma. Gil Kenan and Jason Reitman, who wrote the script for Afterlife, return to write the script for this film.

Oh hell, Frozen Empire was fine. Granted, there are plenty of caveats to go with that statement, but it takes a lot of wasted goodwill to make an intolerable sequel, particularly one watched in theaters, and this movie is useful enough as a ride to justify most of its surroundings. There are probably one too many people in this cast, that much is for certain. I think at a certain point "passing the torch" really should mean what it says, because it seems almost amusing to have enough busters to make up a baseball lineup, but since one is here for 115 minutes, one does aspire to not see any significant weak links among the groups (familiar, older familiar, new). This is pretty much true here, although it is clear that Grace shines the best among the group (of course with Aykroyd, we know his spirituality is right into it). It is the kind of curiosity that is charming in terms of the frustration that arises in not-quite-ready-for-adulthood (this case: bureaucracy). This results in a few interesting moments of connection beyond hunting when it comes to scenes spent with Lind (after a previous film of playing it close in quiet interaction on one side). Nanjiani seems to be having fun trying to play it off as a goof ripped from a cartoon (he cited The Real Ghostbusters animated series as an inspiration for the filmmakers with this film, so this may check out), which can be hit or miss from scene to scene. Well, it is nice to see Atherton again, who has managed to retain the certain kind of smarm that one would hope to enjoy in established character actors. It goes as such for the criminally underrated Hudson when it comes to neat charm in quasi-exposition dialogue (as opposed to Oswalt, who might as well have his role rendered by a PowerPoint presentation but with less snark). Murray and Potts may be shuffling in and out with brief attempts at dry cracks, but familiar comfort does suit some more than others. When it comes to the paranormal, I suppose sorcerers and astral projections is not the silliest bridge to cross when talking about fear-sucking ghosts that like ice. I'm fine with the threat presented here in the sense that being frozen or corralling fear is at least a semi-interesting idea seemingly cobbled from too many binges into paranormal things without becoming insulting. Oh, it is silly, but it is the kind of silly that I can at least throw my hands up rather than slap them down in derision. In general, Afterlife is a bit better when it comes to the overall jokes and the exploration of people working in tandem as a family. If you have had fine times with the previous Ghostbusters follow-ups since 1984 (forty years ago, so...), you will be fine with what is accomplished here for a stuffed ride that delivers exactly what one imagines it to be for shades of adventure.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

The Watermelon Woman.

Review #2194: The Watermelon Woman.

Cast: 

Cheryl Dunye (Cheryl), Guinevere Turner (Diana), Valarie Walker (Tamara), Lisa Marie Bronson (Fae "The Watermelon Woman" Richards), Cheryl Clarke (June Walker), Irene Dunye (Herself), Brian Freeman (Lee Edwards), Ira Jeffries (Shirley Hamilton), with Alexandra Juhasz (Martha Page), and appearances by Camille Paglia, David Rakoff and Sarah Schulman. Written and Directed by Cheryl Dunye.

Review: 

“I did the research, I did look in Black film history, and found nothing but homophobia and omission. I did look at queer film history, I read Vito Russo, and found no mention of race. So I hope that my film spurs these younger people to think about their identities within the context of representation in the media.”

The important thing to know is that this is a film made by someone with plenty of experience behind the camera when it comes to it being their debut feature. Born in Liberia but raised in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Cherly Dunye actually had an early interest in political theory when studying in college. She had studied at Michigan State University before realizing that her purpose wasn't in that field, going back near home to Temple University. What she saw around her (the mid-1980s, specifically citing Wilson Goode as a "Black mayor who dropped a bomb on a group of people" [May 13, 1985]) that time was the idea of using media as a tool. Her first video in that regard came with meeting a poet named Sapphire, with whom she mixed her reading of "Wild Thing" with images filmed by Dunye that served as her senior thesis. With her idea of art and politics as one that can co-exist in the same world, she soon studied (and graduated from) Rutgers University's Mason Gross School of Art before soon starting to make her own films, ones later dubbed as "Dunyementaries" that mixed fact and fiction that related to her experiences as a black lesbian filmmaker. The basis for what became this film started in 1993 when Dunye was trying to do research for Black film history when it came to women for early films, which saw a number of times where the cast members were not mentioned by name. The resulting film was one funded by a variety of sources, such as an endowment from the National Endowment for the Arts alongside fundraising. When it came time to purchasing the use of archives to use for the film, the costs were too much to use, so Dunye used a different idea in collaboration with photographer Zoe Leonard to stage several old photos, several of which were sold off at auction to help raise funds. The fake film within a film in "Plantation Memories", was directed by Douglas McKeown while he and Dunye wrote for it. She had various inspirations when it came to being a filmmaker that engaged with who she was and what she wanted to express, and it probably makes sense that the film's title is a play on Melvin Van Peebles' Watermelon Man (1970). Watermelon Woman was a fair hit on the festival circuit, one that attracted attention for a particular scene that inflamed the general person that thinks offensive stuff is getting shown (one that had funding from the NEA, so I mean whiny politicians).

For the most part, Dunye has directed on a regular basis since then, whether for television such as HBO's Stranger Inside (2001), which she collaborated with actual female inmates for the story or finding out the lack of compatibility in studio fare with My Baby's Daddy (2004), short features, or for general television dramas. What one sees for 90 minutes is a mix of old-looking footage to go with grainy videotape and just usual film to make for an experience that plays with form and how one tries to tell a story that hasn't always been told to a wider audience. The women that existed in that era as presences to see on camera in Butterfly McQueen, Hattie McDaniel and Louise Beavers are represented within what you see here in the pursuit of trying to reclaim what had been shuttered to the sidelines or forgotten completely. That footage accomplishes the goal required in allowing the viewer to look upon it as both creation and history that isn't silly facade. It just so happens to also be a movie of self-discovery in the nature of realizing what really matters when it comes to what one thinks they are. Dunye makes a compelling presence to watch discover the nature of what means the most in the web of hang-ups of fact and fiction. The scenes spent with her and Walker are just as interesting as the ones spent with her and Turner when it comes to examining the hang-ups and hypocrisies that arise with them just as much as you see around your own circle of friends.  One is basically watching three different films play out: the film in the film (fictional to us), the film of trying to document that to people who don't know who the subject was, and the film of trying to cope with the unraveling that comes in finding who they are in the lesbian space and as a filmmaker (one scene that comes and go on is when she is trying to look at something in the street with her camera and is accosted by cops that think she was a guy mugger, consider how the scene just ends). The doors that open up are as interesting as they are complicated. There are a few moments spent interviewing actual figures of culture (gay or otherwise), whether that is Camille Paglia expounding about film theory and arguing about the "mammy role" or Sarah Schulman playing an archivist with particularly touchiness to letting people actually take photos of archival footage left in a box that make for humor when it comes to perceived allies. As a film that yearns to tell its own type of story for representation that doesn't slam itself in the muck of overindulgence while having plenty of imagination to let the audience explore for themselves what is important in the realm of history and storytelling, this is a pretty good effort to get the match rolling for others to follow in Dunye's footsteps.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Chilly Scenes of Winter.

Review #2193: Chilly Scenes of Winter.

Cast: 

John Heard (Charles Richardson), Mary Beth Hurt (Laura Connelly), Peter Riegert (Sam), Kenneth McMillan (Pete), Gloria Grahame (Clara), Nora Heflin (Betty), Jerry Hardin (Patterson), Tarah Nutter (Susan Richardson), Mark Metcalf (Jim Connelly), and Griffin Dunne (Mark) Written and Directed by Joan Micklin Silver (#1818 - Hester Street and #1988 - Between the Lines)

Review: 

 ''I was determined not to violate the book, which I loved. I wanted the general action to be the same, but my ending was too triumphant. People in the crew kept coming up to me when we were shooting and telling me, 'This is the story of my life.' But when I asked them if it turned out like it did in the movie, they would always admit that it hadn't.''

In 1976, a novel called Chilly Scenes of Winter by Ann Beattie was released into stores, with her having been a regular author in The New Yorker. Three actors in Mark Metcalf, Amy Robinson, and Griffin Dunne were interested to produce the book as a film by purchasing the film rights (after a whole bunch of studios rejected it), much to the interest of Joan Micklin Silver (who read some of Beattie's stories) and liked the book. Claire Townsend liked it when she worked at Fox and when she moved to United Artists to be a production executive, she eventually got them to finance the project and also eventually get the idea of Silver to be the one to direct (the group had liked her anyway). The group stayed with their favoring of John Heard to play the read (rather than cast someone like John Ritter as favored by UA) while going with Mary Beth Hurt to act opposite him when Meryl Streep apparently wanted...Sam Waterston to play opposite her. It was United Artists who botched the film when it came for original release in 1979 that had the title of "Head over Heels" because they thought it was a more viable title, with the Heels title coming around as a joke suggestion when UA wouldn't go with the original book title because of some sort of perception that "Chilly" and "Winter" wouldn't sell well as a title. The ending of the film and the one you see now are different in the inclusion of one more thing, namely the idea of a romance that isn't as over as it seems, which actually matched the novel but was not what Silver had in mind. Silver wrote the film herself after approaching Beattie and getting a no (Beattie instead wanted a small part in the film, which ended up with her playing a waitress with no lines). In 1982, United Artists Classics approached her about re-releasing it under the aforementioned Winter title, complete with keeping the ending she had envisioned (which instead of ending with our lead coming home after a jog to a woman is instead one where it just ends on him immediately after the jog). That version had a decidedly less chilly reception to where there is one of those arguments for calling it a "cult classic" (if one is in the Criterion market, look no further?). Amidst of a handful of television films, Silver's next film as a feature director wasn't until 1988's Crossing Delancey.

Well, it is an anatomy of a chilled romance (being set and mostly filmed in Salt Lake City, no less), so I do wonder what exactly UA thought they were going to get by playing it light? It is a crashing, uneasy sense of comedy-drama that isn't the easiest sell but works just right for 92 minutes. Really you could interpret the film as belonging to the fallacies that come in relationships of the heart and with friends, specifically the one where people really can be their own worst enemy. Consider that this is the kind of movie that has someone make someone go to a skin flick and then have a thing about someone seemingly exalting them. Heartbreak happens, but life goes on, regardless of much it stings (such as, say, a friend who betrayed them or, well, losing a love). Wrapped within a melancholic movie that basically harkens to a noir within its first batch of lines of a man wrapped in what he wants (but doesn't have), is the note that comes in clearly at the end: people are a series of contradictions and opportunities that either never came or skipped them by. It is an endearing movie for all of the failures that happen in life. Seeing it now, it seems totally right that Silver had Heard pegged for this role right then and there, because he really does make this role one to look upon not with judgement or outright sympathy but with curiosity. There is something fascinating in seeing that all-consuming energy come into focus with all of the hang-ups and eccentricities that Heard makes in this tightrope-type of act here. It could've easily just been a film about a guy who simply gets a bit weird about a woman for it to go right in the end or just a straight stalker movie but Heard makes it fit right square in the middle in that amusing anatomy of a fall. Hurt makes that idea of chemistry between people who simply have different ideas in mind of who they are to others. Being trapped between the idea of someone who doesn't seem that particularly interesting to them and the other choice of "obsession in the form of a six-pack". One sees her as a puzzle piece that isn't one to easily peg down beyond first appearances, because nobody is that easy to see through or figure out as if they were an object to chase. That scene they share in which they discuss the ideas of boundaries that goes from playful to eye-raising (whether taken literally or not) is pretty much the whole film served on a platter with how they handle it. Roles like this do make me wonder if I should see more movies that have Riegert in them, because even a role where he is just a playful pal that in one scene moves along with a ploy with Heard to just go with playing a prospective couple looking around just so they can "stumble" upon a certain woman through a salesman. Grahame gets to strut in the eyes of mental feebleness for an interesting act to see with Heard. As a whole, it is a wonderful thing to see this film in the way that Silver and company envisioned play out for people to seek out rather than wonder what could have been because of how delightfully uncomfortable it is. It walks that fine line of comedy and drama for a pretty good effort in human frailitiy. 

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire.

Review #2192: Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire.

Cast: 

Rebecca Hall (Dr. Ilene Andrews), Brian Tyree Henry (Bernie Hayes), Dan Stevens (Trapper), Kaylee Hottle (Jia), Alex Ferns (Mikael), Fala Chen (Iwi Queen), Rachel House (Hampton), Ron Smyck (Harris), Chantelle Jamiesson (Jayne), and Greg Hatton (Lewis) Directed by Adam Wingard (#1672 - Godzilla vs. Kong and #1753 - Blair Witch)

Review: 

It is hard to believe that May will be the tenth anniversary of the first real American Godzilla film with Gareth Edwards' 2014 film. Eventually, through the course of time, one has seen films such as Kong: Skull Island (2017), Godzilla: King of the Monsters (2019), Godzilla vs. Kong (2021), and now this one, the first of the series with a returning director in Adam Wingard (there was an attempt at doing the "MonsterVerse" for television, but if I didn't like the idea of using Apple TV for watching baseball, why the hell would I go for it here?). The screenplay was done by Terry Rossio, Simon Barrett and Jeremy Slater while Wingard wrote the story with Rossio and Barrett (this is the first of these features without Max Borenstein as a writer). Well, I don't really have anything to build up here, this movie is about on par with the other ones, what did you expect? Each of these films have their own idea of what to do when it comes to handling the time besides their big creature, whether that involves killing off Bryan Cranston early, Kong in the Vietnam War era, a goofy fun one involving eco-terrorists, or a monster clash and hollow earths. It is particularly interesting to see a few returning castmates from the last one in Hall, Henry, and Hottle. It has been a few months since the last time Godzilla was featured in a film after Toho's Godzilla Minus One, but are we really so ridiculous to compare two different Godzillas? What, does every one of these have to be moving period pieces? (what, no complaint that the film title doesn't know how "&" is better than a silent "x"?)

To be honest, I don't really re-watch modern movies all too much (last year saw a mix of 200 movies watched for the first time, old and new, and that doesn't include ones seen as tradition), so going back to these films doesn't include a clear winner (King of the Monsters or Skull Island were pretty neat though). But these two Wingard features are relatively carry the torch well for loony entertainment, even if this one generally is more of a Kong film than one for Godzilla (I believe someone counted the amount of time for the creature around eight minutes in a 115-minute film); basically, you get more scenes of, say, Kong playing nice with a smaller version of himself (evidently named Suko,) than Godzilla doing those little things beyond charging up that involve, well, resting in the Coliseum. It likes to deliver exposition and roll with effects at roughly the same quick pace that results in a clutter of a movie that goes a bit further into the Hollow Earth with a different kind of bent on a familiar titan (hey, the last one had a mechanical one dealing with severed monster heads); it seems amusing to basically have a basement within the basement of the Earth for secret tribes and telepathy, really. The adventures of Kong and Suko (nice to have Son of Godzilla on the mind), which is more than I can say for a film that likes to have a bit of light human interaction without having many stakes apply to them. It likes to cut around what seems interesting just in case one needs a bit of info to follow along with, which can be hit or miss. The Skar King basically being a bully that likes using pain to rule is kind of interesting, but the closing is probably more interesting than the fact that the attempts at building up a threat from down-down below is only moderately interesting. Among the humans, probably Stevens does best in having that sense of just rolling with the material in amusement without buffoonery. Henry is probably more tolerable than he was in the previous film, if only because he doesnt have to act against teen actors or as much of a "conspiracy" bent this time around. Not to say Hall and Hottle can't handle family drama (sign language) of course, but it comes and goes in terms of actually caring beyond a passing glance. Of course, I do enjoy the event buildup to, well, reuniting Mothra into a tussle of creatures. The climax gives the mishmash you would expect in throwing monsters, playing with ice, and eventually dealing with the whole "monkey see, monkey go for the axe" thing. It takes a significant amount of lost patience to lose me on a film like this, but this one went relatively fine in zipping along without trying to brazenly insult one in its execution. On the level, it is around the other films when it comes to general spectacle if not managing to really do anything profoundly interesting on a wholly consistent level. It is neatly average fun, which in the grand scope of general Godzilla or Kong films is totally normal for those who know what they are getting into.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Wonder Woman 1984.

Review #2191: Wonder Woman 1984.

Cast: 

Gal Gadot (Diana Prince / Wonder Woman), Chris Pine (Steve Trevor), Kristen Wiig (Barbara Minerva / Cheetah), Pedro Pascal (Maxwell "Max Lord" Lorenzano), Robin Wright (Antiope), Connie Nielsen (Hippolyta), Amr Waked (Emir Said Bin Abydos), Natasha Rothwell (Carol), Ravi Patel (Babajide), and Oliver Cotton (Simon Stagg) Directed by Patty Jenkins (#942 - Wonder Woman)

Review: 

Admittedly, there were quite a few films that fell by the wayside in 2020. This was released on Christmas Day in a mix of theaters and streaming because, well, certain studios really suck at releasing movies (as done by Warner Bros, The Suicide Squad had the same thing happen to it the following year). But I guess I was just not up for this particular film or maybe I am just very picky, because how many of you would even guess that there have been eight movies based on DC characters in this decade? This is the sequel to Wonder Woman (2017), which as one asserts, was a character originally created by writer William Moulton Marston and illustrator H. G. Peter. Patty Jenkins returned to direct this sequel along with writing the story with Geoff Johns to go with their screenplay that was written alongside Dave Callaham (each were different from the last film, which had Zack Snyder, Allan Heinberg, and Jason Fuchs). Any chance for a third film were dead and buried in 2023 with the impending idea to explode the DC film glob (as one might call it) into a new and different form. Or something.  You know, the first film was pretty decent from the one time I saw it...nearly eight years ago. It was a period piece movie, but it generally made for a useful movie when it came to actually showing what could be done with a character like Wonder Woman for a solo movie beyond just being in team-up movies.

Confusingly, Wonder Woman 1984, makes me see a collision of mush. One only has a litany of questions to ask: 

• Why the hell is this movie 151 minutes? 
• What was the need for a character who already wished to have the power (and sex appeal) of Diana Prince to then want to become an apex predator? 
• How does one wish to "become the stone" and not have it immediately end with them being a rock? What exactly are the consequences for a guy who uses a satellite system to try and suck people's lifeforce from wishes only to see it undone? 
• Was their really a need to bring back Steve Trevor but have it be so everybody other than Diana just sees him as some random guy? 
• How exactly does Diana work at the Smithsonian Museum - does she just fake wear a wig every few years so people don't get suspicious about how she never ages? (as opposed to the show, which amusingly has her wear glasses when working in the office)
• Would the entire world be so nice as to receive a wish only to renounce it because someone told them about how it might be bad? 
• Okay, sure, one only manage to turn a coffee cup and a jet invisible (in like, the span of years), but one conversation with Steve can have her learn to fly with that lasso too?

The answers to these questions are: oh hell, some movies really don't know when to start and end (well, and that doing a Quantum Leap swap without (beloved) Dean Stockwell and Scott Bakula seems like a bad idea). My brain felt dumber watching this movie, which seems like it wants to be entertainment on the level of an 80s movie with an adversary influenced by real-life conmen like Bernie Madoff to go with movie kinds of conmen in '78 Lex Luthor. Somehow, it just doesn't gel well. Jenkins apparently wanted to make a film set in 1984 because of its mark as "the height of Western civilization and society", but I really don't think the film did anything with its setting or goal beyond unintentionally honoring 1980s comics sequels Superman III and Superman IV. Hell, for a movie about people who go around wishing for things that could be harmful (wishing a lady wanting the Irish to get deported to have a heart attack to, well, any other probable wish made around a certain geographic area in 1984), it sure seems tame on not actually showing anyone suffer the possibility of consequences. Pascal's character basically absconds away with his son having totally learned the futility of focusing his time on wishes broadcasting on TV instead of his son (totally - wait, if you renounce your wish to be the stone, where did it go?). 

The strange thing about the movie is that it feels so empty in characters: imagine a superhero movie where you can count the ones to focus all attention on (people who deliver exposition or serve only for a flashback [Wright and Nielsen] don't count) on one hand. Bringing Pine around to basically cheapen what was already kind of an odd decision to kill him off in the first film (your milage may vary) ends up just seeming hollow in the long run, because it pretty much just results in the same kind of ending as before in making that fateful choice that isn't as striking. The problem is that without him, Gadot seems to lack that edge in making a true interesting hero beyond "fish out of water", particularly when it comes to (no, really) that little lecture across satellite at the end. It isn't so much bad acting as it is just one that seems off-key. Besides, it is Wiig (first choice Emma Stone declined) who ends up with less to work with, unless you count the attempt at showing a diminishing sense of humanity in the nerd-turned-meathead as anything other than just passive. Comedians can make interesting villains, but this is certainly not one of those times, particularly with a climax that mishandles both her and Gadot. Pascal ends up as the highlight of the film because, well, one really can just play an interesting conman if they set their mind to it, but it only makes you wish there was a better way to get things going than to have the clash of a wishmaster and someone having to remember not the folly of lies but instead to remember why one has sacrifices in the first place among humans. In the long run, it is a muddled mess of a movie, one placed in the exact moment one would feel tired in not needing to see these kinds of movies every single year without the utmost need for being there in the first place. The first film was interesting if not muddled in an okay climax and a dubious idea for being set in the far-away past, this one stumbles out of the gate and never rises to the occasion, which is a real shame.

Overall, I give it 5 out of 10 stars.

Je Tu Il Elle.

Review #2190: Je Tu Il Elle.

Cast: 

Chantal Akerman (Julie), Niels Arestrup (the driver), and Claire Wauthion (the woman) Producted and Directed by Chantal Akerman (#1994 - Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles)

Review: 

“When people ask me if I am a feminist film maker, I reply I am a woman and I also make films.”

I admit, this probably should have been covered first when encountering a film directed by Belgian Chantal Akerman. But, well, the curiosity to watch Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1975) clearly proved too much. But, here we are anyway with Akerman's debut feature film, made after she had done a handful of short films starting as a teenager (as one does when finding little patience to stay in Belgian film school). The title translates to "I You He She"; the film was written by Chantal Akerman, Eric de Kuyper (a writer / semiologist / art critic / experimental film director) and Paul Paquay, with Akerman later stating that she had written it as a story six years prior that was both personal along with not autobiographical (she was 24 when the film came out, although consider the statement made by her that “the subject is not important”). She called her role in the film (her most noted as an actress, having appeared in a handful of shorts and other films over the years) as "part of that mise en scène" for what you see here.

It is an interesting viewing at 86 minutes, if only because it isn't every day that you get a debut feature with the director also serving our main focus. It probably goes without saying that there is more on the surface than just saying what the film is, which namely involves one woman trying to make due with the place she inhabits, whether that involves eating sugar, re-arranging furniture, or meeting up with certain people from a distance. And yes, that can mean actions with one's hands (off screen) or a scene played at a distance involving two women locked in an embrace together. You just have to let the film breathe on its own without trying to peg it as tedious or only for a certain kind of audience without at least trying to get a grasp for why it is there in the first place. There is more to a film than just seeing someone eat a load of sugar in the same way that there is more than one way to see a woman without clothes. Our one lead is a wanderer that goes through an array of experiences in the attempt to escape solitude, even for only a little while. Consider what you see and hear from the two people that encounter Akerman in the film, where one gets to watch the other shave while the other is almost just only there as an object (or maybe it is the other way around). As a whole, it manages to be diverting in the array of space that one experiences with the show of sexuality that comes from reaching out to the world around them, which is involving in ways that make sense to those who take the time to really see the film beyond the obvious. It has a sort of liberation that only one with the experience of being with and without touch can understand, preferably for those prepared for what they could see and with the patience to let things pass.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.