Catch-Up, Part 11: Sequels, Prequels, Reboots, and Spin-Offs

For those just joining us, this series is where I catch up on all the movies I'm not reviewing as they're released for various reasons. Everything here is mostly recent, but not so recent I could justify an actual review.

Today's theme is franchises. All the movies I'm looking at are part of established franchises. The vast majority are superheroes, but I'm also including a number of other genre films that fit the broader definition.

Before I get to those, I actually want to back up and talk a little about a movie I reviewed a while ago that would have qualified under this topic. I recently rewatched Black Widow and discovered I liked it significantly more than on my initial viewing. I more or less stand by my critiques, but not so much the weight given to them or their effect on the whole. On rewatch, I found the themes worked better and the story was more impactful. I still wouldn't list this among my favorite MCU movies, but I expect I'd rank it in the top half - maybe even top third. It's not uncommon for me to respond to movies differently after seeing them a few times, but it's rare for my opinion to shift this much (and even rarer in this direction). And who knows: maybe I'll watch it again a year from now and find it's climbed even higher.

Now then. Let's get to the new reviews.

Snake Eyes: GI Joe Origins (2021)

First, I need to partially retract something I've said a few times in the past. While discussing recent Fast and Furious movies, I've repeated variations of the idea that franchise was a better approximation of GI Joe cartoons than the actual GI Joe franchise could ever hope be in live-action. While I still think F&F offers a delightfully updated spin on one aspect of GI Joe, it certainly doesn't reflect the whole experience.

Neither does Snake Eyes, to be honest, but that's at least partly by design. This isn't a particularly tech heavy story, and as such we're not treated to all the silly toy vehicles that form a major component of Joe. But you know what this does have? Magic rocks and mystical snakes. That's right: this has the ridiculous fantasy aspect covered.

Also, we get ninja with inexplicably superhuman abilities, including the titular character. Where did he get these abilities? We never find out, nor should we care. This is a movie about cartoonish characters with cartoonish abilities doing cartoonish things. It's a dumb, campy, cheesy adventure... and it is so damn refreshing.

I hate that this bombed at the box office. I blame the marketing, which made it look mostly grounded. I suppose critics deserve a little more credit, as this is the highest rated film in the series on Rotten Tomatoes: it's at 35%.

I'm guessing they'll reboot again rather than continue this iteration of the franchise, which is a shame. This feels like the start to a version of GI Joe that would eventually get to Serpentor and do the character justice. It's pure, unapologetic Saturday morning fun that's willing to be stupid in order to be entertaining. Precisely 0% of this movie is boring, and I can't think of a better compliment to anything in this franchise.

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (2022)

It's kind of fascinating seeing a Ryan Coogler movie that has fundamental structural flaws, in part because it has the counterintuitive effect of highlighting just how good a director he is. Wakanda Forever is the first film from Coogler that doesn't feel like an instant classic. There are characters and subplots that should have been cut, sequences that are out of place, and moments that feel contrived. And yet, the stuff that does work - character moments, emotional beats, and beautifully framed sequences - still feels like it's been crafted by a master. Usually when comic book movies don't work, everything feels slapdash: here, you can see the care and love poured into the story. And, frankly, the majority of the movie's pretty great.

Having Shuri's arc mirror that of her brother in Civil War was clever, and I love the scenes between her and her mother, as well as her interactions with Namor. And speaking of Namor, the MCU's first actual anti-hero is incredible here. I'm not sure any other comics character has pulled off this radical of a reimagining while still capturing everything significant about the source material. This is simultaneously completely new and a perfect adaptation of one of Marvel's first characters: that's a hell of an accomplishment.

I'm not sure how the scene in the Ancestral Plane didn't get spoiled for me, but I'm thrilled it wasn't: that was incredible, both from a conceptual standpoint and as an experience. It was exciting and unnerving at once: I absolutely loved it.

But for all its merits, the movie is definitely a case of the whole being less than the sum of its parts, mostly because some of those parts don't work with the larger narrative. Specifically, the three American characters - Riri Williams, Everett Ross, and Valentina - feel like distractions rather than additions. For what it's worth, I love all these characters, but they just didn't fit in this movie. Ironheart, in particular, feels like she's been wedged in: her motives keep changing from scene to scene and never really make sense in context. My guess is she's here to set up her Disney+ series (which, to be fair, I am excited about). But the subplot to chase her down just draws attention away from Shuri, Queen Ramonda, and Namor, who are really the core of the movie. And they were already competing for screen time with Okoye and Nakia.

Sorry, quick side note. I think this movie has issues, but it's cool as hell to see a superhero team-up where all the principal protagonists are women of color. 

Now back to those issues. I think Okoye and Nakia's stories would have worked better if they'd removed the subplot in America. Both characters are still fun as it is, but this never quite comes together the way the first one did. The first Black Panther managed to juggle a huge number of characters and plot threads, but because everything came back to the central theme and plot, Coogler made it work. That wasn't really the case here: Ironheart, Nakia, Okoye, and Ross all have their own mini-arcs, but connections to the central story feel forced. Pulling out the American characters wouldn't entirely have fixed this, but it would have made it much less noticeable.

There were also a handful of times compositing fell short of the otherwise beautiful effects, though this is both an ongoing issue with Marvel and with movies completed during the pandemic in general. It's not a huge issue, but considering how much of Wakanda Forever was jaw-dropping, the occasional sequence where an actor was superimposed into a scene where they clearly weren't present became annoyingly obvious.

Overall, this one was mixed, though the good stuff in the mix was better than we generally get from genre movies that aren't obvious homeruns. I wish there'd been less focus on setting up future installments (assuming that's what happened here), but overall the good definitely outweighed the bad.  

No Time to Die (2021)

I grew up watching the Bond movies with my father (we were particularly fond of the Connery era). I wouldn't say it was ever my favorite franchise, but this series will always have a place in my heart. My wife is a fan of the books - I've read a handful myself. We also own every movie in the franchise, with the exception of Spectre (which, despite what I write below, I intend to rectify).

I love Casino Royale and even had a generally positive reaction to Quantum of Solace (though I last saw it in the theater). I like Skyfall despite some major reservations about the script. As for Spectre, I consider it one of the five worst films in the franchise (the others being Diamonds Are Forever, Live and Let Die, Moonraker, and Octopussy). Spectre took the series' most interesting antagonist and reimagined him in the least interesting way possible. Everything about the movie was uninspired, and the film as a whole was astonishingly boring.

One thing I'll say about No Time to Die is I never found it boring. Frankly, there was always more than enough going to hold my attention and keep me emotionally engaged throughout. The problem is the emotion I had wasn't what they were going for. I spent the entirety of No Time to Die on the verge of bursting out laughing.

In theory, this was supposed to be a somber, serious film about legacy and sacrifice. It's a mirror image of On Her Majesty's Secret Service, a fact it broadcasts loudly and clearly in a myriad different ways. It wants to be powerful and have a lasting impact. And it is hilariously, comically, unbelievably clumsy in its attempt.

For the record, that's far preferable to boring. But it approaches Her Majesty's Secret Service the way Star Trek Into Darkness does Wrath of Khan, only Into Darkness managed basic elements of filmmaking, such as shot-to-shot continuity and character motivation. No Time to Die is just an incoherent mess that left me surprised there were only seven credited writers. 

I'm not kidding when I say I had fun watching this. It didn't take long for me to realize what kind of movie I was seeing, and then I just sat back and enjoyed the ridiculous absurdity of the script, coupled with some legitimately great action sequences. It's between $250 and $300 million dollars spent to conclude a franchise (or at least this iteration of that franchise) in something best described as "so bad it's good."

But, hey, at least we didn't get another Spectre.

Hellboy (2019)

This benefits from comically low expectations, but overall... I didn't hate this. It's a long way from good, mind you. Structurally, it's a mess of sequences, characters, and ideas tossed together in a halfhearted attempt to touch on as many "greatest hits" from the comics as possible, regardless of whether any of them actually belonged in this story. It's more or less a by-the-numbers remake of the first del Toro film, minus the competency.

And yet there's still a lot of good stuff tossed in. The effects may be inconsistent, but when they're good (which usually equates to when they're practical), they're really quite ingenious. The short bits, considered out of context, hit as often as they miss.

If this had delivered a halfway decent ending, I think I'd actually defend it as a pretty solid entry in its genre. It... didn't do that, opting instead to mimic the 2004 ending with a few minor, dumb alterations, resulting in an almost comically inane conclusion. But, again, this isn't a "greater than the sum of its parts" kind of movie.

This isn't good, but as a throwback to the early 00's hastily thrown-together genre flicks, it's diverting enough to be better than it's 18% on Rotten Tomatoes would suggest. Not much better, mind you, but maybe a hair (or, if you're feeling generous, maybe even a horn).

Glass (2019)

I know I'm in the minority here, but I loved this. Honestly, I think it's one of may favorite Shyamalan films, right up there with Signs. I like it more than Unbreakable and far more than Split.

It's not perfect, of course: Shyamalan movies never are. Some of the dialogue feels unnatural, and Anya Taylor-Joy's arc was in questionable taste. But the movie as a whole just worked for me. I loved the twist, despite suspecting it early on. As a fan of superhero movies, I found the three main characters fascinating. And the ending felt right for this series. I understand why some fans were upset, but I really enjoyed it.

Ghostbusters: Afterlife (2021)

It's fine. Parts are better than fine: the mini-marshmallow men sequence was great. I also liked the gag with Sigourney at the end. And Phoebe's great - I liked her character a lot. I also thought this did a good job recreating the flavor of the original.

But, God, the pacing drags. There are extraneous plot lines and characters who only seem to be present so the Ghostbusters count can add up to four. The brother should have been cut entirely.

Overall, it's fun enough as a throwback, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed. This could have and definitely should have been better.

I find it astonishing anyone ranks this above the 2016 reboot, which took the franchise in new directions. I didn't hate this, but it's nowhere near the same league. It's closer to Ghostbusters 2, and even then falls a little short.

The Craft Legacy (2020)

Something went terribly, terribly wrong here.

At least that's my guess, because when I actually take a step back, the underlying framework to this seems like a solid starting point. You've got a plot that appears to be mirroring that of the original with a big twist at the end of the second act. You've got a protagonist secretly connected to said original in an interesting (albeit kind of played out) way. You've got a completely different source of conflict...

But not only does none of that add up to a satisfying film, the way it's presented undercuts the individual elements so completely, you have to deconstruct it to realize there was ever something good here at all.

Let's take another step back and talk about what this is. That's... kind of hard, actually, because "what it is" is watered down to the point it's barely anything. It's not horror. It's not comedy. It's not drama. I suppose it's technically fantasy, but just barely.

If anything, I'd describe the experience as analogous to watching an overlong CW pilot. Compare that to the original, which...

Okay, honestly, the original also kind of feels like a CW pilot, but it's got a bit of an edge to it. So, maybe a better CW pilot? Legacy just doesn't work as a movie. The finale is laughably cheap - I'm not exaggerating when I say it would have felt cheap for television in the 90's.

I'm astonished this was released in its current form. The Craft franchise isn't exactly the most valuable one out there, but it deserves better than this. Whether this got kneecapped by the studio (looking at you, Black Christmas) or the director made some serious miscalculations, the end result is a movie that neither works as a satisfying continuation or as a standalone picture reimagined for a new generation.

Simply put, this is a bad movie.

Venom: Let There Be Carnage (2021)

I think it's kind of good?

It's honestly difficult to gauge. The movie is leaning into the absurd contradictions of 1990's comics. For all the dark, brooding, violent appearance, most comics from that era were silly, campy things. They were childish stories pretending to be what kids thought "grown-up" stuff was.

Let There Be Carnage seems to understand this and embraces the flavor of the time. It's completely absurd, and intentionally stupid. And, largely because it's not putting on airs of anything else, it's a great deal of cartoonish fun.

In some ways, it feels like a good version of the comic book movies that came out in droves in the early 2000's: think Ghost Rider, Daredevil, Catwoman, or Green Lantern... only better. I'm not a big fan of that era (though I've always had a soft spot in my heart for the first Ghost Rider), but that's mainly because it grated on me that the source material was complicated and nuanced, while studios at the time seemed embarrassed to be adapting them.

Venom doesn't really have that issue. The concept was always silly - a more serious approach wouldn't suit it.

Let There Be Carnage is basically a comedy (and a romantic comedy, at that), and on that level it absolutely works. I almost wish they'd just skipped Carnage altogether and made this entirely about the relationship between Eddie and the symbiote. Not that Carnage doesn't have his moments, too.

You almost get the impression they set out to make the most fun bad movie they could, and mostly succeeded. Does that add up to a good film? Why get bogged down with semantics - the movie's enjoyable as an intentionally juvenile comedy adventure, and I recommend it on that level.

Eternals (2021)

Well, I guess I'm in the minority, because I kind of love this. Tonally, it's very different than where the bulk of MCU movies fall, but I have no issue with that. Frankly, the Marvel movies have gotten a bit monotone recently, at least for my tastes. It's nice to get something a bit more operatic.

This definitely felt more like what we've come to associate with DC than Marvel, though that's more a case of the movie franchises doubling down on certain styles and tones than anything inherent in the source material. Regardless, I've seen this described as more or less similar to a Zack Snyder film (I believe the director even cited Man of Steel as an influence). And I definitely see it: Chloe Zhao approaches superheroes in a similar way.

Only - and I say this as someone who will still defend Man of Steel - she's so much better at this than he is. For one thing, Zack Snyder gravitates towards edgy content, while Zhao goes for drama and emotion. If Eternals is a DC movie in disguise, it's DC circa 2010, while Zack Snyder's stuck in the 90's. Also, for my money the aesthetics in this are far better than what we got in The Snyder Cut (though I'll carve out an exception for The Flash - I thought Zack Snyder did some extremely cool things with that power set).

There were aspects of this I'd have liked changed, sure. A few scenes were unnecessary, some elements and ideas didn't entirely make sense, and some of the non-effects sequences looked off to me, but overall... I just really enjoyed this. I'm not sure whether they're actually going to deliver on their promise these characters will return given the movie's lackluster reception, but if they can justify a sequel, I'll gladly watch it.

Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021)

Remember when people used to believe superhero movies couldn't work if they featured more than two villains? Proud to say I never bought that hypothesis: if you get the script right, you can fit almost any number of significant characters - heroes or villains - and deliver a good product. That doesn't mean you're not making it harder on yourself, but the people behind the MCU Spider-Man movies have never been afraid of a challenge.

This is an impressive movie, particularly if we're focusing on the script. It juggles a lot of characters, relationships, and ideas, and it does so surprisingly well. That's not to say it never fumbles - there are certainly moments it chooses fan service over a satisfying emotional arc - but it works far more often than not.

I will say some of the effects fall short of the writing. You can see where the limitations of shooting during a pandemic results in a product less polished than the material deserves. For what amounts to an Endgame-level event for the Spider-franchise, some key sequences really feel a generation behind in terms of production value.

But at the end of the day, the writing and acting pulls it through. It's really a fantastically made homage to the character's onscreen history, as well as an exploration of what makes Peter Parker compelling as a hero.

On a personal note, I have some reservations about the resolution, particularly as it pertains to relationships from past MCU installments. I understand and respect the choices made here, but I question whether the added flexibility for future solo Spider-Man movies counterbalances the lost connections and unanswered questions for the MCU as a whole.

That's all nerdy conjecture, though, and it doesn't really pertain to this movie on its own. No Way Home is an effective, funny, emotional Spider-Man story that wraps up a number of loose ends most of us wrote off years ago. It's a great movie despite some compositing mishaps and effects limitations. Overall, I enjoyed this.

Teen Titans Go! & DC Super Hero Girls: Mayhem in the Multiverse (2022)

The first and most surprising thing about this crossover team-up is it's not really a crossover or a superhero team-up. I mean, technically there's a crossover in it, and the two groups do briefly team-up, but the significance and screen time given to the Titans is grossly overstated. This is a Super Hero Girls movie with what's best described as an extended cameo from the Titans. Honestly, I suspect there was an earlier draft that didn't include them at all.

If so, I kind of wish they'd make that version. The Titans bits are funny, but they clash with the tone and focus of the movie. Aside from the Titans stuff, this is an unusually serious Super Hero Girls story. Granted, that's speaking relatively: the Super Hero Girls only get so serious, but this does walk up to that line. It's clearly intended as an extension of the series building on established character arcs and plot threads.

Each of the six heroines (actually, make that seven, due to... never mind: that'd be spoiling) has a story arc here, and they're all good. In contrast, none of the Titans do (at least not really), though Raven is given a good moment. 

One thing worth noting is that you should really catch up with the series before tracking down the movie. I'm a season behind, and it actually did matter a bit. There were developments I wasn't aware of, though it wasn't hard to catch up.

Regardless, it's a strong movie with some great moments and jokes. I just think it would have hit a lot harder without the occasional cutaways to the Titans' antics, most of which felt tacked on and unnecessary.

Ten Recent-ish Movies You Need to See but Haven't

This is sort of an installment in my "Catch-Up" series of short reviews, but rather than filtering by genre, I'm highlighting some of the best movies of the past five or six years I suspect slipped under your radar. That means, I'm intentionally leaving off anything that did remotely well in theaters - to be eligible a movie basically needs to either have bombed, been released to a hilariously small number of screens, or gone right to streaming. And if it's the latter, it better not have been a major cultural milestone (e.g., Happiest Season isn't on this list, because everyone knows about it and most everyone's seen it). Likewise, no movies that already won dozens of major awards or franchise installments appear below. The point of this is to gather up the stuff I suspect you either haven't heard of or skipped and forgot about.

A few of these are movies I've discussed here in the past. They're not in any particular order - they're not ranked or anything - but all are worth checking out.

Vesper (2022)

Technically, Vesper is a Lithuanian science-fiction film from last year, but it's difficult to convey how little that actually communicates about the experience of watching this fascinating, unique film. Imagine a live-action Miyazaki movie, fused with Terry Gilliam, centered around something from Grimm's Fairy Tales, and set in post-apocalyptic medieval Europe. Now picture that getting shipped into Area X from Annihilation. Vesper is basically the movie you'd expect to emerge a few weeks later.

Sounds pretty damn good, right? Yeah, well, it is.

Throw in some innovative visual effects (mostly practical) that are evocative, creepy, and hauntingly beautiful, and you've got something extraordinary. The setting and tone are so good, I barely even cared that the story was effective, the theme timely, the cast really good, and the characters all interesting: that stuff felt like icing. I'd be recommending this even if it weren't smart and well constructed, but as a nice bonus, it's both those things.

I should mention there's some disturbing imagery in here. Nothing too bad; just be aware there's some gnarly R-rated stuff in this that might make you squirm. And, for what it's worth, it belongs here. The freaky stuff enhances the world, and is eerily beautiful, like everything else in this film.

I didn't watch and review this in time to make my 2022 ranking, but if I had it would be in either the 2nd or 1st place. I really love this one, and strongly encourage fans of science-fiction or fantasy to check it out. It's truly special.

Cyrano (2022)

I never know whether to date these by technical release dates or US openings. If you prefer the former, than this was 2021, not 2022. But - despite being an absolutely fantastic musical reimagining of the classic story - Cyrano's release didn't really make much of a dent in either year. Pity. I really like this one.

I hardly know what to highlight. Everything from the costumes to the cinematography to the cast (Dinklage, in particular) is fantastic. But maybe the most memorable aspect is the music: I'd listen to these songs on their own. Stylistically, they lean towards pop/rock, and they're well written, well sung, and cleverly shot in ways blending the period of the setting with musical videos from eras being referenced. Think MTV meets Shakespeare in Love: it's a blast to watch and hear.

The closest thing I have to a criticism is the movie feels like it's being held back by the simplicity of the story it's telling. The psychology just doesn't hit as hard as the music, acting, or directing. But if the biggest problem I have with your adaptation of Cyrano de Bergerac is that it's still "just" Cyrano de Bergerac... well... that's not actually a shortcoming.

This is absolutely worth seeing if you haven't already. I wish a few of these fantastic musicals would make money - we're living through a renaissance in the genre, but it seems unlikely to last if these keep bombing at the box office. 

The Little Hours (2017)

I watched this having no idea what it was, when it took place, or what the tone was going to be. If you, too, don't know what "The Little Hours" is, go to Amazon (it's playing on Prime) and start watching (assuming there are no young children around). Do it now. Don't read the rest of this review, don't look at the synopsis, and FOR THE LOVE OF GOD do not watch the trailer.

Seriously. Avoid the trailer like the plague until you see the movie. Feel free to check it out after - it works well as a fun recap - but the real joy of The Little Hours comes from experiencing its surprises as they're offered. There are moments in the movie that had me howling with laughter in absolute delight - they wouldn't have had anywhere near the same impact if I'd been anticipating them. And the trailer gives them all away.

I'm going to avoid spoiling as much as possible, but - again - I highly recommend you watch this knowing as little as possible. I already feel bad revealing it's a comedy: the movie is built out of surprises, and that extends to the genre.

A big part of what makes this work for me is the style. It's a comedy, but it isn't at all filmed like one. Everything in this, from the color palette to the lettering in the credits, evokes period dramas made in the 1960s and 70s, and - despite a cast of legendary comedians - this doesn't really wink or acknowledge that. It's shot very seriously and edited with straightforward music choices, and all of that highlights the absolute joyful absurdity of the film itself.

Only in some ways that description isn't doing the movie justice. The movie's comical approach hides the fact that, at least on occasion, its absurd recreation of the past is likely more historically accurate than many of the self-serious dramas out there. One scene in particular (again, I'm really trying not to give anything away) had me in awe at how much more believable the characters' behavior was than perhaps any other movie I've seen set in a similar time.

I hope you stopped reading this a paragraph or two in and rushed to check it out. The Little Hours slipped under the radar in 2017 and seems to have largely disappeared since, and that's a tragedy. I'd easily rank this within the top 5 best comedies of the past decade I've seen, at least in terms of the overall joy I experienced watching it. Please, do yourself a favor and give this a chance.

The House (2022)

Further eroding the line between movies and miniseries, I suspect Netflix's release, The House, was conceived as the latter but presented as the former. But the sake of simplicity, this was released as a single, movie-length anthology, so I'm going to take it as such. 

Complicating issues around classification, this is officially a "dark comedy," but I don't see that at all. The first two stories are horror, while the third is sort of a surreal post-apocalyptic yarn. Sure, there are some comedic moments tossed in, but no more than you'd expect from the average horror flick (quite a bit less, in my opinion). I'm assuming this got labeled as comedy because two of the three parts feature anthropomorphic animals. But that's a feature of style, not of genre, and in this case it's liable to be misleading.

I should also note this one isn't for kids. The stories are actually kind of scary, and - while it pulls a few punches - things don't end particularly well for most of the main characters. Also, if you give a fuck about naughty words, this has a few. If you're looking to calibrate, I'd say you'd want to wait a few years for this after your kid's old enough to watch something like Coraline without nightmares. It's creepy, disturbing, and more mature than most people are used to seeing in this medium.

Whatever this is, it's absolutely breathtaking, a gorgeously animated stop-motion production exploring some very dark concepts. This explores the dangers of materialism, capitalism, and obsession. But at the same time, it's beautiful. Each of the three stories looks and feels unique. The first features characters and objects made of felt, similar to what Robin Robin used but to quite literally the opposite effect. The second looks the most like something Laika might do if they wanted to traumatize their younger viewers (more than usual, I mean). And the third almost feels like it's channeling Wes Anderson via The Fantastic Mr. Fox.

I loved them all. The artistry on display is really incredible, and the tone is a good reminder that stop motion has applications beyond "kid's stuff." For those of you familiar with the 1988 Czech film, Něco z Alenky (you might know this as the adaptation of Alice in Wonderland with stop-motion taxidermy), this has a similar vibe. I'm really happy to see something this weird and pretty popping up on Netflix. What a treat.

See You Yesterday (2019)

While it could have used a bit more money, time, and maybe an additional draft to punch up a few key scenes, See You Yesterday is still a fascinating entry in the time-travel subgenre. It uses the concept of fate vs. will as a metaphor that's both effective and original, which is alone enough of a reason to check this out on Netflix. On top of that, it's well made and engaging as a genre flick, even setting aside the larger questions it's asking.

It's worth noting this is a bit deceptive. The movie begins as a sort of silly adventure, before ultimately veering into darker, heavier territory. I don't think this is a problem, but I suspect the tonal shift will be off-putting to audiences looking for easy answers and happy endings.

Which brings us into spoiler territory, because I don't think any discussion of See You Yesterday can proceed without touching on the resolution. Or perhaps lack thereof? I go back and forth on whether the last shot is tragic, optimistic, or ambiguous, which is likely the point. This is a movie about the sense of vertigo communities feel reliving what must feel like the same tragedies again and again. Structurally, the movie tells us Claudette's refusal to accept this is a tragic flaw. One interpretation of the ending is that she'll inevitably destroy herself trying to stop inevitable tragedy. In a sense, this is the easiest interpretation, as it adheres to traditional tropes and character archetypes. In a "normal" time travel story, a character who behaves as the protagonist does and ignores the warnings she refuses to accept is typically doomed.

But this isn't just a time travel story, and the thing Claudette trying to change isn't trivial or selfishly motivated. If anything, it feels like the movie is setting up the idea that fate should be accepted in order to dare us to confront the ramifications of apathy. In context, Claudette's response is the noble one, despite going against the conventional moral of the genre.

But the movie doesn't ultimately reward this with a happy ending. Instead, it closes with her continuing her mission, very possibly indefinitely or until it destroys her. Or, perhaps, until her refusal to accept the world as is overcomes the forces of inertia opposing her. In a sense, the movie is asking us which will win in the end: is the will to change greater than the cycle of loss?

And I wish I could say I found that ending uplifting. Perhaps it was supposed to be, but watching this four years later, I feel like the intervening time provided an answer. It's heartbreaking in retrospect, whether that was intended or not.

Barb and Star go to Vista del Mar (2021)

I was completely unprepared for this movie.

I'm not sure where I got the idea that this was a light comedy with some drama, but that's what I was expecting: a conventional comedy. A simple movie built on tone. Nothing too extreme.

Imagine my surprise three minutes in when the supervillain showed up. This is a completely absurd, over-the-top farce. Imagine a middle-aged women's answer to Harold and Kumar, Bill and Ted, or... whatever the names of the characters were in Dude, Where's My Car.

Only those comparisons aren't exact. All of those movies are centered around young men and have fairly similar tones. Barb and Star are in their forties. That alone is game-changing, but this also looks and feels completely different. It's cartoonishly bright, with elaborate musical numbers. There are sequences that almost look like Wes Anderson with the saturation turned up. 

All of which is to say that while this feels like a spiritual cousin to the films listed above, it's not really in the same genre. If those are essentially stoner comedies, maybe this is a mimosa farce. Call it whatever you want, it feels fresh and new, which is extraordinarily rare. On its own, that's already enough a reason to recommend it.

But also... it's completely hilarious. Just a riot, start to finish. I loved it.

The one caveat I might offer is that it's a lot to take in. I ended up watching this in two parts, which was a good way to experience it: at almost two hours, it's a bit overwhelming without a break. I wouldn't call that a flaw - the movie never stops being funny - but I'm glad I saw this at home rather than in a theater.

To be clear, if the biggest issue with your comedy is it's too much fun for one sitting... that's a pretty good sign. Definitely check this one out.

Pig (2021)

It's admittedly a stretch including this here, as it picked up a fair number of awards and has been widely promoted by movie fans online. But it was snubbed at the Oscars, and it made virtually nothing in theaters (though, to be fair, it cost almost nothing to make, too).

And it is really fantastic. If you haven't seen it and know nothing about it, just stop reading now. The less you know, the better: this plays with your expectations and subverts your genre expectations in ways I never imagined.

Even aside from that, it's fantastic. This is one of Nicholas Cage's best performances, right up with Mandy (side note: I'm assuming you've all seen Mandy - otherwise, consider that an eleventh row on this list). Pig is an emotionally complex, philosophically moving film everyone should see.  

Petite Maman (2021)

I'm going to stagger how I describe this in the hopes anyone reading this review will stop as soon as possible then watch the movie before I even touch on the premise or genre. Let's start with the three pieces of information that convinced me to watch this the same day I heard it existed. First, it's written and directed by Céline Sciamma, the visionary who made Portrait of a Lady on Fire, which if you somehow haven't seen it... go watch that now, because it raises the bar for how good movies can look and be. Second, it's 72 minutes long, so it's not going to eat up your evening. Third, it's streaming on Kanopy, a service you most likely have free access to if you have a library card in your wallet.

If that's enough, great, we're done here, at least until you've seen it, which - again - will only take an hour and change. It's not so much that I think knowing details about the movie will spoil it (this isn't that kind of movie), but there's no reason to rob yourself of the enjoyment of allowing the story to unfold in its own time. Because pacing and tone are major components in what makes this special. But you probably already figured that out from the "written and directed by Céline Sciamma" part.

I'll also add, for those still around, this one's appropriate for kids, provided they're old enough to manage the subtitles. Actually, a more accurate description would be "appropriate for adults," because (surprise) this is a kid's movie. As in, told from a child's point of view in ways that will resonate with a child and doesn't include objectionable material. Petite Maman is more or less G-rated.

But it's a kid's movie with depth, sincerity, and nuance. Think Prancer, as a reference point, or just go with the movies the director herself cited as inspiration: the works of Miyazaki.

Okay, see, now we're drifting dangerously close to revealing the genre, because this isn't just a beautifully told drama about a young girl coping with a difficult time and struggling to understand her mother. I mean, it's also that, and that'd be enough in the hands of a director like Sciamma, but...

It's also a time-travel story. Tonally, more fantasy time-travel than science-fiction, in that it doesn't care how or why it's occurring, doesn't contend with the usual tropes, and is instead only interested in the way the kids react to the magic around them. Which in this case can more or less be summed up as quiet amusement. She understands what's happening, appreciates the opportunity, and eventually discusses it with her mother's younger self, but neither express amazement or wonder at what's going on. It's just another thing they don't really understand in a world that's already more complicated than adults admit. So they do what kids do: they become friends, play, and talk.

Of course there are themes of growing up, of exploring the past, of coming to understand your parents as changing beings... and all that's really great. But what I found the most refreshing was a live-action movie with a realistic tone where kids just kind of casually explore a classic genre trope as if it's just another interesting path in the woods.

Blow the Man Down (2020)

This does for my home state of Maine what I imagine the Coen Brothers did for the Midwest: remind me why I left.

Okay, that's at least half a joke (I still love you, Maine), but this captures something about my home state in the months tourists stay away. It's a Maine of old buildings and towns built around industries that have been gone a generation. It's a ghost story where the ghost is the entire setting, where the people inhabit a spirit rather than the other way around.

This one came and went without garnering much attention, but it stayed with me.

Shadow in the Cloud (2020)

Yeah, I'm recommending this again. Probably not for the last time, either: I just love the hell out of this movie. It's weird and fascinating in ways horror and action movies never are. It pivots between genres brilliantly, exploiting a change in tone to enhance its story rather than break it. And the entire last act is just perfection, culminating in a final fight that breaks every rule in every book, delivering something that surprised and delighted me.

Be aware the credited writer is a horrible human being, but don't hold this against the movie. Based on some interviews I've read, it sounds like Director Roseanne Liang more or less rewrote the entire thing anyway.

Please, track this down. It's amazing.

Catch-Up, Part 9: Best Picture Adjacent

Welcome back to my series of mini-reviews for movies that have been out too long to justify anything more substantial.

I already uploaded the installment doubling as my rankings for this year's Best Picture nominees, but that leaves out a bunch of movies that were nominated in other categories, as well as some from previous years. I've also got one or two that weren't nominated but should have been (That'll do, Pig. That'll do), and a few that had a lot of awards-season buzz.

Look, no one promised these themes were always going to make sense.

Titane (2021)

I honestly think that's the most messed up movie I've ever seen. I don't seek out highly disturbing movies, and I outright refuse to watch torture porn, so take that with a grain of salt. But with that being said, Titane is... it's pretty horrific.

That said, it's incredibly well made. It gets under your skin, in your head, and then it just... it does really unsettling things once it's there. Like, really unsettling.

The movie's narrative doesn't make much sense if you try to understand it rationally, but it all feels right. I found the effect incredibly impressive: I kept thinking the movie should be losing me with each successive step away from reality, but instead it kept me engaged. You believe in the world of the movie, even knowing how ridiculous it would sound if you attempted to explain it. Titane is very much running on dream logic. Nightmares will do that, I suppose. 

Recommendations are particularly tricky. You really want to go into Titane blind, but I'd hesitate to send the wrong person in the direction of this film. Seriously, if you've got the wrong phobia or trigger, this thing could do serious damage. If that sounds like an exciting challenge, then this one's for you. Otherwise... I don't know what to tell you. Maybe find a friend you trust who's seen it and knows what bothers you, then visit them in the asylum they were committed to after watching Titane and ask for their opinion.

Pig (2021)

I went into this relatively blind, which is by far the best way to experience this thing. In that spirit, I'm going to start by saying upfront if you haven't seen this, you should do so without reading further. While I'm not going to go into detail, even discussing genre spoils a lot.

You were warned.

Okay, a lot of what makes this delightful is what it isn't. Because, if you know the premise, you know it's about a man, played by Nicholas Cage, trying to reclaim his stolen pig. And if you've seen any publicity artwork, you're likely expecting a cross between John Wick and Mandy. And this... it's not that. At all.

Because this isn't an action movie. If anything, it's an anti-action movie. It uses the visual language of action movies and related genres, but it subverts every expectation as far as violence is concerned, to the point it starts to feel like Pig is mocking you for expecting Cage to throw a punch or reveal he's ex-military or some other cliché.

Instead, we're treated to the pacifist equivalent of a crime story, set in the Pacific Northwest, starring Cage at the top of his game. The movie's funny, sweet, intelligent, and profoundly sad. It's beautiful and wonderful, and I hope you didn't read all this before getting to experience it for yourself.

Summit of the Gods (2021)

Apparently the backstory here is dense. This is a French animated movie based on a Japanese manga inspired by an ongoing search for a camera belonging to a mountain climber who vanished in the 1920s. The primary story in the movie centers around a pair of fictional climbers, though I doubt I was alone in needing Google to confirm who was real and who wasn't.

The movie itself is a sort of an existential meditation built around mountain climbing. Tone drives the film - it wants you to feel the epiphanies, fear, and loss its characters go through on their journeys. And to its credit, it does a pretty damn good job selling all that.

The downside is that's more or less all you get. There is some development and exploration of character, too, but it's mostly in service of its tone and philosophical exercise. Even with a relatively tight focus on just a handful of important characters, you don't feel like you get much more than a surface glance and the outlines of a manifesto.

That's not a problem - the movie isn't trying to do anything other than what it manages - it's absolutely a success. It's an effective, tense adventure that takes you through an ideology pertaining to mountain climbing and (obviously) any other human endeavor you want to extend the metaphor to.

If that's what you're looking for, you'll be impressed with the result. But if you're looking for anything else, you'll likely be underwhelmed. This is the sort of movie where one viewer might call it "captivating and profound" while another calls it "boring," and both perspectives have merit.

Tick, Tick... Boom (2021)

I'm not sure whether or not this was a good idea. It's essentially an autobiographical musical from Jonathan Larson, the playwright behind Rent who died just before it became a massive hit. On one hand, the mystique and tragedy of his life are inherently interesting, and the fact there's a way to tell his story in his words and music is really cool. It's the story of him creating his art and contemplating his life and legacy.

It's just... let's back up and examine what that art actually is, because this isn't the story of Rent. Instead, it's the story of another musical, which ultimately fails to launch and teaches him that he needs to write what he knows, a revelation that results in the creation of the musical we're watching, which...

I mean, there's a reason this one never went anywhere. Actually, there are several reasons. First, the songs aren't great, which is kind of an issue given the medium. Second, this is, well...

I feel bad saying this, but let's not kid ourselves: the premise is a fairly generic, self-indulgent story that assumes audiences will find the author's life and point of view meaningful or compelling. And it doesn't help that the parts that are kind of meaningful aren't really his story. Larson lost friends to the AIDS epidemic, and one of them is a major character. Major, but not the main character: this is still about the lessons Larson learned. The way others' tragedies effected him. His pain and growth.

And... yeah, that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. This kind of "stories about middle-class white authors turned bohemians writing stories" is extremely common. It's practically a cliché: every writer (and I'm no exception) thinks they're special. A lot of writers try to chronicle their lives and tell their story. The reason these don't make up the majority of movies, books, and plays out there is readers and audiences disagree with that assessment.

Does the fact Larson was ultimately right change that calculus? I guess that depends on whether you're invested in Larson and his legacy. If so, this is likely going to appeal to you. But me? I still haven't actually seen Rent, so, while I know the context, it doesn't mean much to me. I'm left rating this on its own merits, and....

Look. This isn't bad. Lin Manuel Miranda does a solid job turning this into a movie. He doesn't transform this into something incredible, but he's fine as a director. Meanwhile, Andrew Garfield is really good in the lead. And if you look through the Wikipedia article, the research behind this thing is really impressive.

But, again, the music isn't all that good, the story isn't particularly interesting or unique, and I didn't find the main character all that likable, in no small part because he clearly believed the story he was writing was worth writing. If that seems like an overly meta complaint, keep in mind, this movie is several adaptations deep, to say nothing of the abandoned play it's partly about and features a song from.

If you're a fan of Rent, my guess is you've already seen this, love it, and most likely hate me right now. Sorry? But if you're not a big fan of that musical, this probably isn't going to win you over.

The Last Duel (2021)

I enjoyed this movie quite a bit, which I actually think is kind of a strike against an otherwise pretty good movie. Let me explain: this is ultimately a fairly brutal look at sexual assault and the way society devalues women. The fact the society in question is 14th century France and the issues at play remain completely relevant is basically the point. The details have changed, but the social dynamics are eerily similar. Women's voices are largely ignored, accusations of rape are more dangerous than the crime itself, and vast legal systems give powerful men a host of options and protections. Still pretty damn relevant.

The problem is those themes are kind of overshadowed by Ridley Scott's preoccupation with settings and atmosphere. That's what really stuck with me - I found the experience of watching that world enjoyable, which feels inherently wrong. This shouldn't be fun or pleasant: it should be upsetting and scary. And, to be fair, when we actually get to the titular duel, it is. There's a lot at stake for the only character we give a damn about.

Those who aren't comfortable watching sexual assault should of course approach with caution, if at all. The rape scene (scenes, really, though the last one is by far the hardest to watch) is pretty brutal. And, despite unambiguously taking the victim's side, the movie still feels more interested in its male characters.

Outside of the ending and the assault sequence, this was mostly just fun to watch. In this context, I suppose that counts as both an indictment of the film and as a sort of ironic recommendation for history and D&D nerds.

Flee (2021)

An absolutely incredible, heart-breaking film that pushes the boundaries of what animation can be used for and how documentary can be presented. It's hard to overstate how good and how effective this is. It's emotionally devastating, because it's so real and - on some level - so mundane. The experience of the man at the core of Flee isn't unique or even rare. Flee doesn't point fingers or delve into politics,  but if you can watch it without feeling ashamed at your country's policies, I don't know what to tell you.

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)

There's a moment at the end of Portrait of a Lady on Fire when I was no longer certain whether I was looking at film, an oil painting, or some sort of animated effect or hybrid. The entire movie was designed and lit to resemble 19th century art, but in this moment, I honestly couldn't tell.

It was still live action, of course. I'm not sure if my experience was intentional or shared - honestly, I think most of it was in my mind. But that's the sort of magic trick this movie accomplishes through an almost unfathomable control over what you see and hear. It's difficult to convey how meticulous this film is. The most apt metaphor for the experience would be to that of watching a master painter create a portrait. It's a magic trick of storytelling that uses the medium of film with incredible precision.

I feel like I'm underselling this when I say I love this movie. I am in absolute awe of this movie. It's a work of art.

Parasite (2019)

Maybe my expectations were set too high, but while I enjoyed Parasite, it didn't leave all that much of an impact. Don't get me wrong - it's definitely a great movie. Well acted, extremely well written, and really well shot, I'm not at all confused as to why critics loved this. It just didn't entirely click with me.

That goes for the other movies I've seen from Bong Joon-ho, too. I wasn't a fan of Snowpiercer, and while I liked The Host, I wouldn't say I loved it (though it's definitely my favorite of the three). All are impressive films, but they weren't for me. Which is honestly odd, because on the surface, it seems like they would be - smart, genre films are typically what I'm looking for.

Some of this may come down to the endings. I'm not entirely adverse to dark finales, but I find I usually connect more when there's some grand twist or resonant connection. Bong Joon-ho's movies tend to wrap up with the concepts taken to their logical conclusion, coupled with an implied thematic statement. I certainly can't fault that style, but I also can't change what appeals to me.

Dunkirk (2017)

I always feel awkward in situations like these. Dunkirk's clearly well directed - fantastically well directed, in fact, in that it's expertly executed and is clearly as close to a perfect reflection of Nolan's vision as the medium allows. The pacing and editing give the film a relentless sense of dread, despite most of the major characters making it out alive.

So why was I left thinking, "Is that all?" as the end credits rolled?

The main issue (I'll leave it to you to decide whether it's an issue with me or the movie) is character. I rarely connect emotionally with characters in Nolan's movies, this time more than usual. Yes, I realize that's intentional. But it still leaves me unsatisfied at the end of most of his films.

I've watched enough movies to know this is good. And I did find it compelling enough - I liked it overall. But this didn't really pull me in or anything. I understand why its fans love it, and I think the awards were warranted. But when all was said and done, I was left underwhelmed.

Promising Young Woman (2020)

So... yeah. That might be one of the best movies I've ever seen.

I actually have a lot I'd like to say about this, in particular about my reaction to the ending, but I'm not going to. I honestly don't want to spoil anything. This deserves to be seen cold.

I will offer a few thoughts on tone, genre, and content, though I'm not sure how coherent they'll be. I'm seeing the movie referred to as a "dark comedy," which I think is technically true, but it doesn't really prepare you for what you're seeing. It's alternatively identified as a thriller, which I think is much closer. Tonally, it feels a little like American Psycho, with two major differences: 1) it's not gory, and 2) I liked it.

Let's talk content for a moment, because if you know anything about this movie, you know it deals with subject matter that can be difficult for some viewers. For what it's worth, the movie doesn't put much on screen: this is quite literally about the effects, not the actual crime. But that also means it digs into the psychology of its subject matter, which can be brutal in its own way. If that could be an issue, by all means read a plot synopsis before watching. But for everyone else, this is better experienced unspoiled.

It's a hell of a movie. Just phenomenal writing, acting, directing, and editing. I could go on, but honestly... just watch this.

Black Bear (2020)

This was a very weird, very artistic film that I enjoyed but didn't love. To be clear, in this context "didn't love" doesn't mean that this isn't great - I think it's extremely effective at what it's trying to achieve, the pacing is fantastic, and the performances are amazing (with Aubrey Plaza being the standout, though when isn't that the case?). 

What this doesn't do for me is connect. It's a movie about the artistic process, specifically about the dark side of the artistic process. Only like anything related to art, process isn't universal. This isn't how I find inspiration, so I feel a bit removed. That's not a problem with the movie, just a disconnect between me and the film. And, in all likelihood, with a lot of people. In particular, if you're not an artist who's played around in narrative mediums, I suspect this won't mean a great deal to you. That's not to say you won't get it, just that it won't have the same emotional impact it'll have on someone who bases stories on people they've known and situations they've experienced.

I'm not saying it's not still worth seeing - I think this works well enough as an off-kilter surrealist thriller - but there's a subset of artists I expect will walk away from this feeling like they just watched another Being John Malkovich or Adaptation. I'm just not one of those people.

Catch-Up, Part 8: Best Picture Edition

With the Academy Awards coming up, I thought I'd catch up on some of this year's Best Picture nominees. I wanted to check them all off, but I also didn't want to drop piles of cash subscribing to additional streaming services when I've yet to exhaust the ones I'm already paying for. I'm arranging these in reverse order, so the last movie listed is the one I think *should* win.

That said, with one exception I think all of the nominees I've seen range from very good to extremely good. Of the seven movies below, four are separated by a hair - I won't bat an eye if any of those win. All of them deserve it.

I think the movies in spots 5 and 6 are great, but not quite in the same league. I certainly won't be upset if either wins: they're not my picks, but I still really enjoyed them. As for the last movie, well...

7. Don't Look Up (2021)

I find it bewildering that this was nominated for Best Picture. The only thing that makes this standout at all is its weirdly impressive cast, the majority of which, to be fair, does great work in a mediocre picture.

Honestly, "mediocre" might be overly generous. This just isn't well written, directed, or edited. It's a tonal mess that fails to actually deliver on the promise of its premise, which - at this point in time - amounts to screaming the obvious, then kind of muttering incomprehensibly for a couple hours. The central idea is fine (albeit not entirely original - variations on this "joke" have been floating around the internet for a while), but the execution amounts to what might be the most boring version of this movie possible.

One of the movie's largest sins was failing to deliver on the genre. This was, first and foremost, a satire. But satires are really supposed to reflect reality dialed up to eleven; this thing feels muted and understated. Obviously the threat is bigger and more immediate than climate change, but public reaction in the film feels less comically exaggerated than real world responses to that and COVID.

The movie's tone undermines itself, as well. The actors clearly think they're acting in a modern day Dr. Strangelove, but the editing tries to interject pathos throughout. The result is neither darkly humorous nor dark: it's just dull. I get what the flashes of stock footage are trying to convey, but I'm just not feeling it.

I respect the impulse to speak up about climate change, and I share the frustration with a world that refuses to acknowledge the obvious. But, aside from some fun performances, this just doesn't work as a movie, and the point it's trying to make - while absolutely well intentioned - is lacking the teeth it needs.

6. Nightmare Alley (2021)

Full disclosure: I watched this not realizing it was a remake of a 1947 movie, a fact that's kind of significant in terms of how this hits. Having not seen that or read the book both versions are based on, I'm unable to offer any insight on how this compares or plays off of ideas from the source material. Taken entirely on its own merits as a standalone piece of entertainment, this is...

Well, it's a noir from Guillermo del Toro, so it's obviously going to be good. But good and satisfying are very different things, and as the end credits rolled, I was a little underwhelmed. I had a pretty good idea how it would conclude from early on, and it more or less circled back to where I expected, and the few surprises it offered felt somewhat unearned. That said, as soon as I realized this was a remake, everything fell into place. Of course the ending was telegraphed: they're assuming viewers are already familiar. And of course the twists are more inline with old genre conventions than believable character motivations: this is a remake of an old genre movie and older novel.

I get it, and it's well done. Really well done, in fact (though I'm not entirely sold on the Best Picture nomination). Again, it's a good movie. And I loved the first half. But the second half, after the movie shifted away from the carnival, grated on me a bit. Then, as I said, the ending didn't surprise me. These aren't flaws, but ultimately the experience was less than I'd hoped.

I won't be upset if this takes the prize - it really is a good movie - but I think it's a tier below the nominees in spots 1 through 4.

5. King Richard (2021)

This is nothing like I expected. Based on the premise and the fact it was nominated for Best Picture, I assumed this would be a melancholy sports drama with a triumphant ending. Instead, I found myself watching one of the funniest movies of the year. I had a blast.

That's not to say there's nothing dark or serious in the movie - there are a handful of violent moments when Richard is attacked or his family is threatened, and there's some drama in the third act - but those scenes are exceptions in a film that's otherwise a delightful comedy.

What impressed me most was the movie's ability to transform what should have been a major liability into its most effective asset: we all know what's going to happen. Hell, even I know Venus and Serena Williams are the best tennis players in the known Universe, and there's no one on the planet who knows less about sports than me. This should have kneecapped the film: it effectively robs them of the ability to build stakes. Instead, they saw an opportunity to exploit the fact that literally everyone is in on the joke. From the second Will Smith's Richard starts making outlandish claims about his daughters' abilities to rich, white people who think he's crazy, we start chuckling because we know who's actually the butt of the joke. The movie exploits this to amazing effect: it's just wonderful.

If I were ranking this based on my enjoyment, it would be three spots higher. But, unlike my end of year rankings, I'm trying to give my opinion of which movie most deserves the award. And as great as this was, I think the stylistic and tonal complexities of the remaining films place this at a disadvantage.

That said, I'm certainly not rooting against this. Comedies don't get anywhere near enough respect - I'm thrilled this was nominated.

4. The Power of the Dog (2021)

I went into this knowing it was an R-rated western, it had been nominated for a pile of awards, and some of the cast. I naturally went in expecting gun fights and bloodshed, which in hindsight feels kind of silly.

This is, indeed, a western, though it's set quite a bit later than the era that genre is typically associated with. More than that, it's a far more grounded take on the genre. I'm not sure "realistic" is the right word - by its nature, fictional media is rarely if ever realistic - but it's extremely honest about its subject matter. The characters are flawed and believable. None are unbelievably effective or talented. It's a movie set, in more ways than one, in the literal shadow of the mythic west. I should note that it's as much a drama as a western, maybe more so. I'll add it's heavily indebted to a third genre, as well, but I won't reveal which to avoid spoiling the film's resolution.

This is a great movie, but that's not to say it's going to please everyone. The Power of the Dog is slowly paced and keeps the viewer at arm's length from the characters. It's one of those movies where the narrative feels unfocused until the end, at which point everything snaps together. Anyone looking for action is likely going to feel disappointed; those willing to explore the characters on the movie's terms will find this far more rewarding.

To be perfectly honest, I found myself somewhere in between those extremes. The Power of the Dog was masterfully made, but I'd be lying if I said it perfectly aligned with my tastes.

3. Dune (2021)

I've both reviewed this and discussed it on my end-of-year ranking, so I don't really have anything else to say. I'm only including it here to note where I'd put it in these rankings and why. And, for what it's worth, it's held back here for an entirely different reason than it was held back last time.

Unlike the end-of-year thing, I really am aiming for "best" here, or at the very least the movie I think deserves that award (at least from the ones nominated). And there's a part of me that thinks maybe this should take the statue. I certainly won't be bothered if it wins (that goes for most of the nominees I've seen, though).

Dune is sort of an unusual situation, where I think it's the best of these, but not the best movie. To put it another way, it's an experience unlike anything else nominated. It's an engrossing, expertly constructed universe, incredible to see and hear. On every technical level, it's really in its own class.

But it's also half a movie. I don't think that's a big problem for what was being sold, but if we're handing out awards, I think it needs to be taken into consideration. And, when all's said and done, the fact it really isn't a complete film should probably preclude it from taking the prize.

2. Drive My Car (2021)

This is an extremely difficult movie to describe, because any attempt is likely to make it sound boring and pretentious, and part of what makes this so impressive is it isn't. Instead, I walked away feeling like I'd seen something profound, even before I had a chance to finish parsing out what any of it actually meant. And, hell, I'm still not entirely sure, but that's sort of the point. This is about the connection established between the audience and the thing they're watching. It's about translation, communication, interpretation, and the way stories change us and help us overcome trauma. What you make of the ending is up to you.

And, yeah, that would usually register as pretentious, but in this case... it just doesn't, at least not to me. Maybe it's because the movie is extremely methodical in its delivery. Or maybe it's just edited in such a way you can't help but be drawn in - I'm honestly not sure why this works as well as it does.

Regardless, it's a hell of a film. Just a hell of an achievement.

1. West Side Story (2021)

It's a pretty good sign when the biggest issue I can find with your adaptation of one of the most famous musicals in history is there are a couple character decisions that never felt believable in the source material you only mostly managed to smooth over and sell in the context of the movie. Otherwise, this is about as close to flawless as adaptations or remakes get and easily one of the best movie musicals ever made. Visually, it offers a gorgeous world that feels like it's set at the intersection of '60s film and stage. It's an engaging, beautiful accomplishment deserving of the accolades it's received.

I honestly don't know what else to say - this was a fantastically well-made movie. It's one of Spielberg's best films, which is saying quite a bit.

Catch-Up, Part 6: Awards Bait

This is the sixth installment in my ongoing series of mini-reviews of newish movies I missed in the theater, because I literally haven't been to a movie theater in close to two years.

The movies I'm looking at today were all well received and with good reason: to the extent the word "objectively" means anything in this context, they're all objectively great films.

I hadn't meant to do a "movies for grown-ups" installment - I'm a strong believer that "good" and "genre" aren't mutually exclusive labels, and further that most "awards contenders" can be accurately classified under various genre labels. But I basically spent the last five articles siphoning off all the conventional genre movies - good and bad - I've seen, leaving... well... mostly a bunch of high quality films that didn't fit elsewhere. I don't want to sit on these forever - I saw one of the movies below back in January 2020 - so here we are.

Nomadland (2020)

Not a lot to say here aside from the obvious: it's beautifully shot and edited into something that feels closer to a cross between a documentary and poetry than a narrative film. This is already blurring the line between reality, adaptation, and story - it doesn't fit neatly in any bucket. On one hand, it's a moving and simple character study; on another, it probes into some darker aspects of how our nation operates.

It's a fantastic movie, so I feel bad admitting my main takeaway is that Eternals is in great hands.

Jojo Rabbit (2019)

I hate that I don't love more of Taika Waititi's movies. For the record, I did love Hunt for the Wilderpeople. And I've been getting into the series, What We Do in the Shadows, but the movie it was based on didn't really work for me. Same goes for the rest of his filmography - I liked them fine, but I didn't love them.

The weird thing is I should love them. I'm generally a sucker for this kind of humor, and I love absurdist settings and situations. His approach should be right up my alley. And it's not like I think the love he gets is unearned - I can watch these and appreciate how well they're crafted. He's a phenomenal filmmaker.

I think it comes down to a minor stylistic quibble. His movies are made to keep the audience at arm's length. He wants you to be conscious of the fact you're watching a movie, and he uses the fourth wall accordingly. He doesn't want the audience pulled so far into the film they get lost in the story.

Again, this isn't a good or bad thing, just a choice. But it's a choice that clashes with my personal preferences regarding movies (especially these kinds of movies).

I want to stress, this is a great film. The characters are fantastic, the direction is wonderful, the story is timely... it's fantastic. I'm not criticizing any aspect. I honestly wish I could toggle the part of my brain that kept me from enjoying this more.

Little Women (2019)

I'm a geeky man who generally prefers movies about spaceships and superheroes. If I'd been living in the world of Little Women, I'd have been one of the readers who was sad Jo's violent genre stories disappeared. This movie isn't from a genre I seek out.

A few years ago, someone convinced me to give the 1994 adaptation (that's the one with Winona Ryder) a shot. Their pitch may have involved overselling its holiday credentials (I've got a relatively liberal outlook on what constitutes a Christmas movie, and Little Women doesn't check enough boxes). At any rate, I watched that and was bored to tears. Nothing about the story or characters clicked with me.

So why in the world did I give another adaptation a shot? Simple. Because all the geeky reviewers I listen to who also like spaceships and superheroes swore this was one of the best movies of last year. So I gave it a chance, and...

Yeah, this movie rules. It just totally rules.

I'm not going to sit here and write at length about how amazing the cast was or how beautiful the film was. I'm not going to go in depth about how brilliant the structural changes were or how cleverly the movie explored the book's relationship to the author's life or any of that. I'd just be rehashing what a billion critics already said. And besides, while those aspects are a big part of what I appreciated this adaptation, they're not why I loved it.

What I actually loved about it was the humor and warmth. Moments that bored me in the 1994 version felt fresh and real here. It didn't matter that I knew the story or even that I had negative associations with it - I was riveted. 

That's a hell of an achievement. Check this out if you haven't already.

Spaceship Earth (2020)

Do I include documentaries in these things? Have I ever talked about a documentary on this blog in any context? Damned if I remember. But I want to say a few things about this one, mainly because it was a lot of fun. Also, while it isn't technically science fiction, it's science fiction adjacent to a degree that's absurdly rare.

The subject of the documentary is the 1991 "experiment" where eight people were sealed (well, mostly sealed - there were complications) in an airtight complex for two years. The goal was to create a sustainable environment made up of habitats from all over the planet. The idea was both inspired by science fiction and motivated by a similar drive: if we ever want to set up colonies on other worlds, this is what they'll need to look like.

The first third largely centers on the group behind the project, and they're hard to categorize. Part-hippie, part commune, part corporate think tank... I kept feeling conflicting reactions where part of me wanted to laugh at them while another part wishes I was alive back then and could have joined them. They're a fascinating group.

It's kind of a shame they conducted their experiment when they did. I feel like the concept could be executed much more effectively now using hydroponics and an improved understanding of biology. But good luck getting the funding together - I suspect that was a one-time deal, at least in this country.

At any rate, the documentary is worth a watch, just be prepared for the twist ending, when [spoiler alert] Steve Bannon shows up and takes over. Seriously - Steve Bannon. It feels like the studio interfered and made the director wedge him into the movie to set up a sequel, until you remember you're watching historical footage and all this really happened.

Hustlers (2019)
Hustlers is the kind of movie I'd typically ignore entirely, despite being able to hear every critic in the country hollering its praises at the top of their lungs. At a glance, it just doesn't sound like a genre I'd be interested in.

But, okay, funny story. A few years ago I got bored and watched "Seeking a Friend for the End of the World," a movie that received lukewarm reviews. And once I finished watching it, I vowed to watch basically anything else the mad genius behind it made for the rest of her career. Damn, that movie is good.

I wasn't disappointed in The Meddler, and I sure as hell wasn't disappointed in Hustlers. Lorene Scafaria is a master at juggling genres and balancing tones. Hustlers is more or less a mafia movie spliced with a drama about friendship, all delivered with humor. It's the kind of thing that shouldn't work, but Scafaria makes it look easy.

Track this down if you haven't seen it. And, for the love of God, also watch Seeking a Friend for the End of the World. Seriously. It's one of the most underrated genre films of all time.


Dolemite is My Name (2019)
After watching Dolemite is My Name, I tried explaining the premise to my wife and was mostly at a loss. In some ways, it's closest to Ed Wood, but that's not a fair comparison. If anything, this movie seems intent on dismissing just that sort of characterization of Rudy Ray Moore. The film is ultimately a comedy, but it's not an especially funny one. It's more interested in celebrating its subject's unique place in cinema and pop culture than in making jokes.

This is, at the end of the day, a character study. It's a biopic about a man who realized there was a untapped market for a particular type of entertainment producers didn't understand or take seriously. While I don't have a background with this character or the genre he worked in, I'm more than familiar with that theme - it's somewhat universal in film and television. And this movie handles it masterfully.

And that's not even getting into the fantastic character work and the beautiful visuals (this looks more like a movie made in the '70s than most movies made in the '70s).

If you've got a few hours and a Netflix subscription, this one's more than worth the time.


The Farewell (2019)
This is the sort of movie I rarely watch unless it’s set at Christmas, but my sister gave it a strong recommendation. And… yeah, it’s pretty great. It’s a dramedy about cultural differences, family relationships, and difficult moments. There’s not a great deal of story beyond the premise (which I’m not spoiling for a reason), but this winds up feeling like a feature rather than a bug. Characters behave realistically, which means growth and development are more subtle and internal than you’d typically get in this genre. I spent the movie waiting for “the big moment” and was pleasantly surprised when it went in another direction (it kind of had to – the movie’s based on a true story).

Beyond the fantastic character work, amazing acting, and nuanced look at cultural differences, the movie also features some stunning cinematography. It’s beautifully shot, to the point I’d recommend it on that fact alone (or at least I would if everything else wasn’t even better).

Catch Up, Part 5: Kid's Stuff

Welcome to the 5th installment of my lazily thrown together collection of mini-reviews of recentish movies I saw in quarantine. Today, I'm looking at kid's movies. Also, I'll be mangling the definition of "kid's movie" to the point I'm including an R-rated film. But, hey, teenagers are still technically kids, and... look, just be glad you're getting something.

Over the Moon (2020)

I had high hopes for this one, too. The animation looked like a solid facsimile of Pixar, which isn't easy to pull off. Overall, this movie looked great. Better than a lot of theatrically released CG movies, in fact.

The problem is they were less successful duplicating Pixar's formula when writing the script, though it wasn't for lack of trying. The movie opens by establishing then quickly offing the main character's mother, a classic Disney/Pixar move. We soon transition to a colorful fantasy world that... let's be nice and say it feels "inspired" by Coco's.

But if you're going to copy Pixar, you kind of need to get it right. You better make sure your characters are compelling, their flaws are relatable, the story is interesting, and the dialogue is fun. Otherwise, you're going to end up making a movie like Over the Moon.

The premise had merit. It's a story about a girl who's lost her mother learning to open herself to loving others while going on a fantasy journey to the moon, where she becomes entwined with a moon goddess who's pined for a lost love for millennia. This could have been good.

But the movie lacks any subtlety or nuance, the metaphors are clunky and obnoxious, major characters and plot twists are entirely superfluous, and I was left bored and annoyed. As a showcase for an animation studio, its successful. As an actual movie with a memorable story and interesting characters, it isn't.

The Willoughby's (2020)

Let this be a lesson in the importance of endings: I'd say less than a third of this movie worked for me overall, but I liked the ending so I'm giving it a pass. I'm not sure the ending was good, mind you, but it hit a handful of notes that work for me thematically.

Also, I'm racking my brain trying to come up with a single example of another animated kid's movie that was willing to portray the protagonist's biological parents as objectively awful human beings, and I'm drawing a blank (I guess Matilda counts, if you drop the "animated" qualifier). This is first and foremost a movie about abused and neglected children learning to trust and love: the world could probably use more stories like that.

The issue is... God, there are a lot of issues. The animation style didn't work for me - I respect the drive to duplicate the look and feel of stop motion in CG, but I found it distracting when it starts looking like stop-motion characters wandering through an animated world. Maybe it's just a problem with me, but the disconnect kept pulling me out of the movie.

Likewise, the narrator bugged me. This isn't the first time I've seen a kid's movie fail to mine humor from a narrator constantly explaining the same jokes we just saw, only sarcastically. Hell, it's not even the first I've seen do that with a feline narrator. I actually liked this narrator as a character when he interacted with the story, but the running commentary... not a fan.

Structurally, the movie was all over the place, but that didn't bother me. That said, the actual sequences were too hit-or-miss. Some gags worked, others fell flat. Like I said at the start, the stuff that didn't work outnumbered the stuff that did.

But I'm a sucker for a touch of magic dropped in at the right moment, and I was relieved when the movie didn't betray its message at the last minute (seriously: nice fake out - you had me for a few seconds there). So while this wasn't in any way a rousing success, it was a solid B.

We Bare Bears: The Movie (2020)

Let's start with a disclaimer: this is best seen after watching the series it concludes. It'll probably still make sense on its own, and it'll probably still be enjoyable, but...

Look, I don't want to go off on a huge tangent, but We Bare Bears is a really special show. It's a quirky, funny, and heartfelt exploration of finding family and community when you don't fit in. It goes in surprising directions, explores complex subjects, and, well... it's just a whole stack of fun. Watch it.

And when you're done, put on the movie, because... wow. This took themes that were touched on in the series and expanded them in ways I wasn't expecting. Like the series, it's sweet and funny, but if you're old enough to understand the ideas being addressed, it's also kind of heartbreaking.

After finishing the series, I went in expecting a lot out of this. My expectations were exceeded.

Booksmart (2019)

This is going to be one of those times I sing a movie’s praises despite the fact I didn’t love it. I enjoyed this well enough as an original spin on the R-rated teen-comedy formula, but - despite being a really original take – I’m still not overly fond of the genre.

But while this didn’t entirely connect with me, it was crystal clear why it connected with as many people as it did. I know it’s become unfashionable to throw around the term “objective” when talking about movie criticism, but (sorry) this was objectively a great film.

I watched this knowing the leads were girls – what I hadn’t realized was that was among the more minor of the movie’s subversions. The premise, that a pair of graduating seniors try to cram four years of missed teenage adventure into one night, is more a launching point to explore topics usually ignored or (at best) touched on superficially.

What’s even more impressive is Booksmart manages all this without it feeling forced. It helps that the script doesn’t treat its premise as revolutionary. It honestly could have gotten away with patting itself on the back or highlighting the novelty of gender-flipping the typical “horny teenage boys” premise, but instead it acts like all this is normal. It’s a revolutionary movie that doesn’t feel revolutionary: it’s almost like this fell into our universe from one where entirely different (and - let’s be honest – better) comedic conventions evolved.

The LEGO Movie 2: The Second Part (2019)

With one exception, my opinion of the LEGO franchise has a been slightly abnormal. While I really liked the first installment, I didn't find it as effective as most critics. My opinion of LEGO Batman, a movie many consider their favorite, is harsher. I still mostly enjoyed the humor, but the premise didn't work for me. My experience with Ninjago is far more mainstream: like most people, I never actually saw it.

I was late to the party for The Second Part, too - I skipped it in theaters due to lukewarm reactions. But now that I've seen it...

I love it. It's easily my favorite in the franchise.

Yeah, I was surprised, too. I expected to be writing the LEGO movies off as a franchise of diminishing returns; instead, I got something innovative and intelligent. I love that this is more Wyldstyle's movie than Emmet's. They share about equal screen time (at least that was my impression - I didn't time it), but the actual plot and resolution belong to her. What starts out looking like Emmet's big adventure to save her and the world gets subverted: she's the hero this time.

Likewise, I like that the movie doesn't pretend the audience is oblivious to the twist at the end of the original. It's pretty obvious what's going on in the "real world" from the beginning, which allows the movie to have some fun with the situation.

On top of that, the songs in this are hilarious. Not to slight the soundtrack to the first LEGO Movie, but I think the music in the sequel is better. All in all, this movie was a really pleasant surprise.


A Shaun the Sheep Movie: Farmageddon (2019)
I probably could have just reviewed this - it was released to Netflix in the US, and it hasn't actually been out that long. Honestly, the main reason I'm not writing this up in more depth is I don't have much to say beyond, "It's delightful."

That shouldn't be much of a surprise. Aardman is one of the most consistent studios out there, and the first Shaun the Sheep movie was fantastic. At least, I think it was fantastic. I definitely saw it, and I remember really liking it, but...

See, here's why I don't have more to say. These movies are a wonderful homage to an era before dialogue. They're fantastic examples of visual storytelling as an art form, no question.

But that does leave them less memorable than most modern movies. I honestly do remember loving the first Shaun the Sheep movie. I even remember how it made me feel - warm, happy, and entertained. But damned if I can remember the plot.

Having just watched Farmageddon, I of course have a better recollection of the characters and events. But I don't expect that to last, because - while there's definitely a story and characters - it's all sort of built around pumping you full of positive emotions and making you chuckle.

I'm honestly not trying to pose this as a negative - if anything, it makes this even better than it would otherwise be as a kids' movie: you could probably watch this a few dozen times without getting overly sick of it.

Like I said: it's delightful, and that's more or less all I've got to say.

Phineas and Ferb the Movie: Candace Against the Universe (2020)

If you've yet to be converted to the glory that is Phineas and Ferb, do yourself a favor and watch through the series as soon as possible. It's deceptively complex, refreshingly kind-spirited, and hilariously funny. I don't care how old you are: it's a delightful show.

Candace Against the Universe is the second made-for-TV movie. The first, Across the 2nd Dimension, came out nine years ago, around the midpoint of the series. Both movies, the show, and a handful of specials are streaming on Disney+, and it's worth subscribing for a few months if you haven't already done so.

For better or worse, Candace Against the Universe feels like an extended episode of the series. This is in contrast to Across the 2nd Dimension, which went out of its way to explore situations and tones the show couldn't really delve into. I have a feeling I'm an outlier among fans of the show, but I really like Across the 2nd Dimension. Candace Against the Universe...

It was fine. Better than fine, compared against most children's media - it's funny and sweet, as always - but I don't think it matched the quality of the series, let alone some of the specials (the Star Wars crossover was more or less a movie in its own right, and that was way better; same goes for "Night of the Living Pharmacists").

Candace Against the Universe had a solid premise, but I almost think it would be better for casual fans. If you've seen every episode, you've seen most of these ideas explored and you're more likely to be bothered by some continuity glitches. I know it's bad form to nitpick minor continuity issues in long-running shows, but that kind of thing still bugs me. Suffice to say, a few characters have now met each other for the first time more than once.

But all that aside, this is an enjoyable movie. Phineas and Ferb was one of the best animated shows in recent history, and it's always nice to spend a little more time with its characters.

Enola Holmes (2020)

There are a lot of good things about Enola Holmes, starting with the casting. Millie Bobby Brown is, as always, fantastic, and Henry Cavill's take on Sherlock was inspired (though it does make me wonder if playing a superhero is now a prerequisite for the role). Throw in some clever spins on the source material and a nice pulpy tone, and you've got a solid start.

Pity that this review doesn't end there, huh? While there are some wonderful elements, the movie as a whole is a goddamn mess. The pacing is off, the plot is overcomplicated, and there's far too much time spent setting up future installments. To put things in perspective, the premise, which fuels most of the characters' motivations, has nothing to do with the plot.

This would have worked far better as a series, and I'd honestly be surprised if it wasn't initially being developed as one. The movie meanders the way you'd expect from a season of a show, spending odd amounts of time on side plots and incidental characters. Maybe it just stuck too closely to the source material - you can get away with that in a book.

If you allow yourself to forget this is technically a movie, it's not bad as a piece of entertainment, but until there's a little more payoff in the form of future installments, I'm not sure it's worth the time.

Dora and the Lost City of Gold (2019)

I feel like any discussion around the quality of the live-action Dora reboot needs to start with a discussion about expectations. If you're comparing this to most theatrical releases, you're going to be unimpressed with the cartoonish CG, obvious sets, and simplistic story. Hell, most of this feels low-budget compared to TV movies these days.

But with all that being said, taken on its own terms, Dora is pretty enjoyable, especially for the first half. The movie embraces the weirdness of its premise and runs with it. Dora, as a character, is fascinating, particularly whenever the filmmakers suppress the voice in their heads saying she shouldn't be a superhero. Watching Dora navigate danger without breaking a sweat is surprisingly satisfying. Likewise, it's great seeing a teenage girl portrayed with a Holmes-level intellect.

The problem is this isn't consistent. The movie embraces a "friends matter" theme, which necessitates demonstrating the value of other human beings. In other words, three other teenagers tag along, and they all have to get moments to shine. Structurally, I understand this, since the alternative would be nothing more than a power fantasy about a preschool kid explorer who'd grown into a teenage adventurer.

It's just... damn it all, the power fantasy is more fun, mostly because there aren't anywhere enough centered around female characters, let alone teenage girls. The movie is great when it just embraces that and has fun with it. I wish it hadn't tried so hard to mix yet another lesson about friendship (or at the very least pared it back to one friend instead of three).

I should probably also mention the movie's portrayal of Aztec culture is... er... let's go with "problematic." It's not as problematic as it could have been, but it still wedges in some tired clichés and bad choices.

Oh, and if you're bothered by completely illogical twists, the sudden introduction of a talking anthropomorphic CG fox that no one seems all that surprised by might be a deal breaker. I was mostly fine with it.

[Side note: I saw this (and wrote the review) before watching Enola Holmes. Enola has way better production values, but Dora does a better job reimagining Sherlock Holmes as a teenage girl. Not sure how that happened.]