directed by Danny Boyle
written by Richard Curtis, Jack Barth and Mackenzie Crook
Contrary to popular belief, even amid the bombastic superhero blockbusters of the North American summer season and the dead-serious, self-important awards fare of the end of year, there is room for other movies that aren't out to make all the money or win all the Oscars to carve out their own little niche. Their success or failure rate can vary, but sometimes, just sometimes they can really hit the sweet spot with just the right audience. One such example is the charming "what if?" romantic comedy, Yesterday.
Yesterday is the story of Jack Malik (Himesh Patel) a struggling twentysomething musician living in Suffolk, England who works part-time and sings anywhere from empty pubs to sidewalks to try to find his audience. About his only fan is his manager and childhood friend Ellie Appleton (Lily James), and after Jack plays at a virtually empty tent at a music festival he decides to finally throw in the towel. On the very night he does so, however, something strange happens: all around the world, for twelve seconds, everyone loses electricity, and as result, Jack, while riding his bike, is unable to see the bus that then clobbers him.
When Jack wakes up, he learns that apparently the Beatles have been erased from everyone else's memory but his own, to the extent that not even a Google search can turn them up (which, weirdly enough, is the case for a seemingly random assortment of other bits of popular culture like Coca-Cola and cigarettes, among other things) and as can be expected, once Jack realizes what has happened, he decides to cash in on this amazing gift. It takes a while for people to catch on, but when pop superstar Ed Sheeran (played by, well, Ed Sheeran) catches wind of Jack's--phenomenal "songwriting talent," he takes Jack under his wing, introducing to a life Jack had only dreamed of, and to his cutthroat manager Debra (Kate McKinnon) who plans to milk Jack for everything the Beatles' songs are worth. It's all coming true at last for this struggling musician, but will he be able to handle the fame, fortune and all of the trappings that will inevitably come with claiming to have authored some of the greatest rock songs in history? And, will he be able to live with the fact that he's only getting all of this because of someone else's work?
The movie is a ton of feel good, goofy fun, even though its premise has almost as many holes as a time-travel movie. Patel is genuinely charming as the down-on-his-luck Jack, and he does a wonderful job covering the Beatles if I'm honest. It's not mimicry but loving homage, and for my part I can see why he got the job. It's gratifying that the character appears not to have been written as Indian, as a result of which there isn't any gaudy treatise on Indian culture or some self-conscious discussion on the inevitable interracial romance between Jack and Ellie, whose adoration for Jack is fairly obvious from the very first scene they share. This is diversity at work: when a person of color slips effortlessly into any given role without the script having to trumpet the issue of his race every chance it gets.
Patel and James carry the movie almost effortlessly, even when the script blunders into "unfortunate cliche" territory. Also adding to the fun is Joel Fry as Rocky, Jack's boisterous roadie, a self-deprecating Ed Sheeran as himself, and Sanjeev Bhaskar and Meera Syal as Jack's loving, wonderfully comic parents. Kate McKinnon gets the short end of the stick playing an oily, one-dimensional bad-guy and what makes it worse is that she doesn't even seem to care.
Still, there's enough to like about this movie to sit through it and its fantastical, if sometimes clumsily handled premise. I know that quite a few reviewers were expecting more from this film than a feel-good romance, but given that this was the writer who gave us such unabashedly maudlin fare as Notting Hill and Love Actually I'm not really sure why. Well, I liked it, anyway.
7/10
Tuesday, August 13, 2019
Monday, August 5, 2019
Ruminations on Marvel Studios' 5 Billion Dollar Year and on Phase 4
As I write this, three of the top five movies at the global box office are films based on Marvel Comic books, two out of the three of them produced and released by Disney's Marvel Studios, with the third, the sequel Spider-Man: Far From Home, being produced by Marvel Studios through a deal with Sony Pictures. Sony may have taken the lion's share of the money for Far From Home, but there's little doubt as to whose input was responsible for generating that money in the first place.
If I were to step back in time to 1989, when Tim Burton's Batman ruled the box office while the best Marvel could come up with at the time was Howard the Duck, and direct-to-video movies featuring Dolph Lundgren as the Punisher and J.D. Salinger's son wearing rubber ears as Captain America, and tell my despondent 14-year-old self of what the future held, I would definitely not have believed myself. I especially would not have believed the yarn that with only three movies, Marvel Studios have made FIVE BILLION DOLLARS in a single year. Of course, in real terms, their success is as beneficial to me as the construction of a Trump Tower would be, but as shallow as this sounds, there really is something gratifying somehow about knowing that I loved Spider-Man and all of those other characters "before it was cool" as the cliche goes.
I mean, I laughed out loud when retired tennis star Andy Murray's mother described him and his brother as "tennis geeks" basically appropriating a word that had once described people on the fringe to describe a couple of out-and-out jocks, who in general are the OPPOSITE of what geeks are in terms of societal integration. Such is the degree to which geekdom is the new normal, and how Marvel superheroes have pretty much captured the cultural zeitgeist.
Such is the stranglehold Marvel has on culture that critics of their approach to filmmaking just sound ridiculous as they shout themselves hoarse. There's something hilarious and hypocritical about how more "old school" fans of film decry superhero films (often targeting Marvel films in particular, seeing as how they're at the forefront of this wave) as bad for cinema in general while pining for such the return of old chestnuts like Westerns, which are not only often culturally-stunted but which could be every bit as vapid and formulaic as the very worst that the superhero genre has to offer. It's even funnier how many of these detractors have been trying for years now to predict the demise of superhero films and a return to the "good old days," whatever the hell those were. Before Marvel exploded, the movie landscape was dominated by overpaid movie stars, formulaic action movies and insipid romantic comedies. Having grown up with movies of the 80s, 90s and 00s, I can recall quite clearly that the cineplexes weren't exactly some utopia full of life-changing thinkpieces and indie gems. Heck, a brain-dead comedy like Home Alone and its virtually identical sequel managed to make a killing at the box-office back in 1990 and 1992, and for years during those decades, people like Meg Ryan made a killing playing the same person over and over again. And don't even get me started on the turkeys for which the likes of Demi Moore and Brad Pitt were inexplicably paid eight-figure salaries.
If nothing else, Marvel and other franchise movies have done the filmgoing community a favor by pretty much killing the star-driven way of making movies, and for that alone, I am immensely grateful to them.
My cup has run over several times. That said, and while I do look forward to their future films, I really hope to see them exploring different ways to tell their stories.
I honestly don't think Marvel have a problem of variety when it comes to their approach to scripts and stories. I absolutely loved Black Panther's approach to realpolitik as well as the glorious 70's-paranoia feel pervading Captain America: The Winter Soldier, for one thing. They know they can't just get by doing exactly the same thing over and over again, but there are some tropes that they tend to lean on a little too heavily, like computer-generated imagery and their almost ubiquitous humor.
As much as I defended The Winter Soldier's massive CGI climax featuring three Helicarriers crashing into the Potomac River (which I still think made sense in the context of the story) the more I think about it the more I would have appreciated a climax more in keeping with the movie's nicely grounded and gritty approach to storytelling. Not every climax has to be the epic battle we saw in Avengers: Endgame. In fact, moments like Endgame's battle become all the more special when the CGI is used sparingly.
To perhaps cite a better (or worse) example of why Marvel should probably scale back on CGI use, Black Panther had some really exceptional production value, including a solid script, vibrant cinematography, art direction and costume design, and a catchy, involving music score, only to have it compromised on many occasions, including during the climactic battle, by some truly awful CGI. Of course, some of their more fantastical movies will continue to need CGI, but I sincerely hope that as Marvel Studios enters this exciting new phase of their existence, they scale back a bit, the way they did with the first Iron Man film, and learn to use CGI a bit more judiciously. Not every film will need it in abundance.
Case in point; over the next two years Marvel will launch two movies featuring main characters without superhuman abilities. Black Widow and Shang-Chi, while sublimely skilled in martial arts, don't fly, wear high-tech suits of armor or even have serum-enhanced strength. In short, opportunities abound to go with purely practical effects, or to at least to use CGI in more subtle ways, like the makers of Logan did. This is the chance for Marvel to use CGI to enhance the viewer's experience, as they've done in the very best of their movies.
Also, perhaps Marvel can be a bit more deliberate with the humor. It works most of the time, but there are films in which it feels a tad overdone. I submit that Avengers: Age of Ultron was guilty of this as was, to a lesser extent, Avengers: Infinity War. Most of the time, humor works in advancing the story, but I do hope Marvel remembers that a film can survive without too much of it. Among the best examples of this, for me, are, again, The Winter Soldier and Black Panther, which, while managing to sneak some of the studio's trademark laughs into the script, manage to maintain a tone befitting the serious themes of their respective scripts. Not every Marvel movie has to be like Ant Man and its sequel or the MCU Spider-Man movies, after all, and one thing that really works for Endgame, a film that admittedly went for a fair share of laughs, is how dead serious it is about treating the effects of Thanos' snap, with extremely somber scenes like the memorial onto which Scott Lang stumbled upon returning from the Quantum Realm. Have Marvel flubbed it with the non-stop quippiness? Sure; Captain Marvel's constant snark in her debut movie just feels weird and borderline obnoxious at times, and when it's pointed out that much of Tony Stark's humor consists of him identifying characters in the films by pop-culture references (e.g. Squidward, Legolas, Reindeer Games, etc.) it's kind of hard to "unnotice" it. Adam Sandler tried doing the same thing in Pixels in what appears to be some kind of parody of it.
In truth, these ideas really feel like meaningless nitpicking considering that Marvel has gotten the art of blockbuster filmmaking virtually down to a science, and even managed to break their Oscar duck earlier this year with the multiple-award-winning Black Panther. I mean, who am I, who basically was just twiddling my thumbs and silently weeping back in the 1980s, to tell them how to do what they do? And truth be told, no matter how many risks Kevin Feige and co. take or now matter how many glass ceilings they try to break, there will always be critics.
But really, some suggestions are worth heeding. As recently as two years ago the internet was full of commentaries and Youtube videos, mostly from armchair experts, decrying the music that featured in Marvel films as "generic" or "forgettable" and propounding a number of reasons for this ranging from a general lack of quality to poor marketing strategy. Well, three years later, Marvel now has the distinction of having the first (and so far, only) superhero movie ever to have won an Academy Award for its original music score. Alan Silvestri's "Portals" from Avengers Endgame is a piece of film music that is almost as indelibly printed on the moviegoing consciousness as the Imperial March or Hedwig's Theme. I'll tell you this: ask any latter-day millennial or gen-i kid who isn't a movie buff to identify the themes of both Back to the Future and The Avengers, and I'm almost willing to bet I know which theme the majority of respondents would be able to recognize in a heartbeat. In short, Marvel paid attention, no matter how insignificant that segment of fandom seemed.
With very few exceptions in its 23-film catalog, Marvel's output has consistently entertained audiences and critics alike, but now, with a whole new generation of obscure heroes like Shang-Chi and the Eternals (as well as a whole bunch we don't yet know about) set to be unveiled, the temptation to lean on their formula will no doubt be overwhelming. I just hope, whether or not they respond to any fan input, that Marvel remembers that one of the main reasons they were able to succeed in the first place was by their willingness to try things that no one had ever seen before, and that, in all likelihood, this very same sense of daring will keep them at the forefront.
If I were to step back in time to 1989, when Tim Burton's Batman ruled the box office while the best Marvel could come up with at the time was Howard the Duck, and direct-to-video movies featuring Dolph Lundgren as the Punisher and J.D. Salinger's son wearing rubber ears as Captain America, and tell my despondent 14-year-old self of what the future held, I would definitely not have believed myself. I especially would not have believed the yarn that with only three movies, Marvel Studios have made FIVE BILLION DOLLARS in a single year. Of course, in real terms, their success is as beneficial to me as the construction of a Trump Tower would be, but as shallow as this sounds, there really is something gratifying somehow about knowing that I loved Spider-Man and all of those other characters "before it was cool" as the cliche goes.
I mean, I laughed out loud when retired tennis star Andy Murray's mother described him and his brother as "tennis geeks" basically appropriating a word that had once described people on the fringe to describe a couple of out-and-out jocks, who in general are the OPPOSITE of what geeks are in terms of societal integration. Such is the degree to which geekdom is the new normal, and how Marvel superheroes have pretty much captured the cultural zeitgeist.
Such is the stranglehold Marvel has on culture that critics of their approach to filmmaking just sound ridiculous as they shout themselves hoarse. There's something hilarious and hypocritical about how more "old school" fans of film decry superhero films (often targeting Marvel films in particular, seeing as how they're at the forefront of this wave) as bad for cinema in general while pining for such the return of old chestnuts like Westerns, which are not only often culturally-stunted but which could be every bit as vapid and formulaic as the very worst that the superhero genre has to offer. It's even funnier how many of these detractors have been trying for years now to predict the demise of superhero films and a return to the "good old days," whatever the hell those were. Before Marvel exploded, the movie landscape was dominated by overpaid movie stars, formulaic action movies and insipid romantic comedies. Having grown up with movies of the 80s, 90s and 00s, I can recall quite clearly that the cineplexes weren't exactly some utopia full of life-changing thinkpieces and indie gems. Heck, a brain-dead comedy like Home Alone and its virtually identical sequel managed to make a killing at the box-office back in 1990 and 1992, and for years during those decades, people like Meg Ryan made a killing playing the same person over and over again. And don't even get me started on the turkeys for which the likes of Demi Moore and Brad Pitt were inexplicably paid eight-figure salaries.
If nothing else, Marvel and other franchise movies have done the filmgoing community a favor by pretty much killing the star-driven way of making movies, and for that alone, I am immensely grateful to them.
My cup has run over several times. That said, and while I do look forward to their future films, I really hope to see them exploring different ways to tell their stories.
I honestly don't think Marvel have a problem of variety when it comes to their approach to scripts and stories. I absolutely loved Black Panther's approach to realpolitik as well as the glorious 70's-paranoia feel pervading Captain America: The Winter Soldier, for one thing. They know they can't just get by doing exactly the same thing over and over again, but there are some tropes that they tend to lean on a little too heavily, like computer-generated imagery and their almost ubiquitous humor.
As much as I defended The Winter Soldier's massive CGI climax featuring three Helicarriers crashing into the Potomac River (which I still think made sense in the context of the story) the more I think about it the more I would have appreciated a climax more in keeping with the movie's nicely grounded and gritty approach to storytelling. Not every climax has to be the epic battle we saw in Avengers: Endgame. In fact, moments like Endgame's battle become all the more special when the CGI is used sparingly.
To perhaps cite a better (or worse) example of why Marvel should probably scale back on CGI use, Black Panther had some really exceptional production value, including a solid script, vibrant cinematography, art direction and costume design, and a catchy, involving music score, only to have it compromised on many occasions, including during the climactic battle, by some truly awful CGI. Of course, some of their more fantastical movies will continue to need CGI, but I sincerely hope that as Marvel Studios enters this exciting new phase of their existence, they scale back a bit, the way they did with the first Iron Man film, and learn to use CGI a bit more judiciously. Not every film will need it in abundance.
Case in point; over the next two years Marvel will launch two movies featuring main characters without superhuman abilities. Black Widow and Shang-Chi, while sublimely skilled in martial arts, don't fly, wear high-tech suits of armor or even have serum-enhanced strength. In short, opportunities abound to go with purely practical effects, or to at least to use CGI in more subtle ways, like the makers of Logan did. This is the chance for Marvel to use CGI to enhance the viewer's experience, as they've done in the very best of their movies.
Also, perhaps Marvel can be a bit more deliberate with the humor. It works most of the time, but there are films in which it feels a tad overdone. I submit that Avengers: Age of Ultron was guilty of this as was, to a lesser extent, Avengers: Infinity War. Most of the time, humor works in advancing the story, but I do hope Marvel remembers that a film can survive without too much of it. Among the best examples of this, for me, are, again, The Winter Soldier and Black Panther, which, while managing to sneak some of the studio's trademark laughs into the script, manage to maintain a tone befitting the serious themes of their respective scripts. Not every Marvel movie has to be like Ant Man and its sequel or the MCU Spider-Man movies, after all, and one thing that really works for Endgame, a film that admittedly went for a fair share of laughs, is how dead serious it is about treating the effects of Thanos' snap, with extremely somber scenes like the memorial onto which Scott Lang stumbled upon returning from the Quantum Realm. Have Marvel flubbed it with the non-stop quippiness? Sure; Captain Marvel's constant snark in her debut movie just feels weird and borderline obnoxious at times, and when it's pointed out that much of Tony Stark's humor consists of him identifying characters in the films by pop-culture references (e.g. Squidward, Legolas, Reindeer Games, etc.) it's kind of hard to "unnotice" it. Adam Sandler tried doing the same thing in Pixels in what appears to be some kind of parody of it.
In truth, these ideas really feel like meaningless nitpicking considering that Marvel has gotten the art of blockbuster filmmaking virtually down to a science, and even managed to break their Oscar duck earlier this year with the multiple-award-winning Black Panther. I mean, who am I, who basically was just twiddling my thumbs and silently weeping back in the 1980s, to tell them how to do what they do? And truth be told, no matter how many risks Kevin Feige and co. take or now matter how many glass ceilings they try to break, there will always be critics.
But really, some suggestions are worth heeding. As recently as two years ago the internet was full of commentaries and Youtube videos, mostly from armchair experts, decrying the music that featured in Marvel films as "generic" or "forgettable" and propounding a number of reasons for this ranging from a general lack of quality to poor marketing strategy. Well, three years later, Marvel now has the distinction of having the first (and so far, only) superhero movie ever to have won an Academy Award for its original music score. Alan Silvestri's "Portals" from Avengers Endgame is a piece of film music that is almost as indelibly printed on the moviegoing consciousness as the Imperial March or Hedwig's Theme. I'll tell you this: ask any latter-day millennial or gen-i kid who isn't a movie buff to identify the themes of both Back to the Future and The Avengers, and I'm almost willing to bet I know which theme the majority of respondents would be able to recognize in a heartbeat. In short, Marvel paid attention, no matter how insignificant that segment of fandom seemed.
With very few exceptions in its 23-film catalog, Marvel's output has consistently entertained audiences and critics alike, but now, with a whole new generation of obscure heroes like Shang-Chi and the Eternals (as well as a whole bunch we don't yet know about) set to be unveiled, the temptation to lean on their formula will no doubt be overwhelming. I just hope, whether or not they respond to any fan input, that Marvel remembers that one of the main reasons they were able to succeed in the first place was by their willingness to try things that no one had ever seen before, and that, in all likelihood, this very same sense of daring will keep them at the forefront.
Saturday, July 27, 2019
Reparations: A Review of the 2019 Remake of "The Lion King"
directed by Jon Favreau
written by Jeff Nathanson, Brenda Chapman
When I watched the original animated film The Lion King, way back in 1994, I quite enjoyed it. While it was basically a Disney-fied Hamlet set on the African plains, I was struck by its visual splendor and enjoyed its catchy tunes, even though some of them stuck more than others. One other thing, even then, struck me, though: this was a story set firmly in Africa, and yet the heroic lion of the story was voiced by Matthew Broderick, possibly the whitest guy imaginable at the time, the guy who played Ferris Bueller. His leading lady, then "it" girl Moira Kelly, was also white, as were the performers who sang the characters' songs. Representation in film wasn't a big thing then; one could actually count on one hand back then the number of Disney animated films to prominently feature black actors, including this one, and the fact that they were all in supporting roles rather than in lead ones struck me as being distinctly off, and I'm not even black.
When I watched the 2019 version of this film with my six-year-old daughter, who loved every minute of it, I was absolutely struck how closely it hewed to the original, unlike previous remakes of animated films like The Jungle Book, Beauty and the Beast, and even Aladdin, all of which seized on opportunities to flesh out characters, remove stereotypes, address plot holes and other small touches aimed at updating those films for modern audiences. This movie is nothing like any of those.
Essentially, The Lion King is the story of Simba (JD McRary) a lion who is the son King Mufasa (James Earl Jones) and Queen Sarabi (Alfre Woodard) and destined to be king of Pride Rock, much to the irritation of Mufasa's brother Scar (Chiwetel Ejiofor) who schemes together with a pack of Hyenas led by Shenzi (Florence Kasumba) to unseat Mufasa and take the throne for himself. When Scar makes his move, disaster follows, and Simba flees far from Pride Rock as his father's kingdom falls into ruin. Simba's childhood friend Nala (Beyonce Knowles-Carter) goes off to find him, or anyone willing to help, but finds adult Simba (Donald Glover) now living a carefree life with his friends, the meerkat Timon (Billy Eichner) and the warthog Pumbaa (Seth Rogen), and going back to save his father's kingdom is the last thing on his mind. Will he embrace his destiny?
While it's a given that the only reason films like this are even made is to cash in on nostalgia and make bundles of money, I found it interesting for a moment that this movie, save for very, very minor tweaks, was remade virtually shot-for-shot, unlike Favreau's previous venture into this remake business, Jungle Book. I mean, it's not like the original was without any flaw, and yet, unlike the people who remade Beauty and the Beast and even Aladdin, who tried to update their scripts a little bit, these folks pretty much trot out the original script, in many cases word-for-word. I'm at a loss as to what they brought to the table.
Visually, though, the movie is really an astonishing look into what computers can bring to the big screen. It calls to mind how I felt about the bland but visually-arresting 2000 film Dinosaur. There's no point to calling it a "live-action remake" because the entire film was basically birthed inside a computer, and did not, unlike any of the other remakes up until this point, feature any actual, live-action elements.
The songs, it should be said, are nothing more than covers of the Oscar-nominated (or winning) originals, with no real innovation, and as much as I'd like to say they are all improvements over the originals (and to be fair, a few of them are), the filmmakers having Seth Rogen try to sing basically prevents me from praising any of their other musical choices. Hans Zimmer, who won his only Oscar so far for this score back in 1994, basically just dusted it off, though he did add some flourishes, and one of the wordless chants from the first film actually has lyrics now. Again, though, musically, there's almost nothing new about this film, Beyonce's tacked-on single "Spirit" notwithstanding.
As strange as this may sound, this movie really does feel like some form of reparations to the African-Americans who were deprived of hearing black actors play Simba and Nala the first time around, because creatively it really just doesn't serve any other purpose.
It does make me wonder, though, what kind of truly astonishing worlds Disney could create with the tech that was on glorious display in this film.
6/10
written by Jeff Nathanson, Brenda Chapman
When I watched the original animated film The Lion King, way back in 1994, I quite enjoyed it. While it was basically a Disney-fied Hamlet set on the African plains, I was struck by its visual splendor and enjoyed its catchy tunes, even though some of them stuck more than others. One other thing, even then, struck me, though: this was a story set firmly in Africa, and yet the heroic lion of the story was voiced by Matthew Broderick, possibly the whitest guy imaginable at the time, the guy who played Ferris Bueller. His leading lady, then "it" girl Moira Kelly, was also white, as were the performers who sang the characters' songs. Representation in film wasn't a big thing then; one could actually count on one hand back then the number of Disney animated films to prominently feature black actors, including this one, and the fact that they were all in supporting roles rather than in lead ones struck me as being distinctly off, and I'm not even black.
When I watched the 2019 version of this film with my six-year-old daughter, who loved every minute of it, I was absolutely struck how closely it hewed to the original, unlike previous remakes of animated films like The Jungle Book, Beauty and the Beast, and even Aladdin, all of which seized on opportunities to flesh out characters, remove stereotypes, address plot holes and other small touches aimed at updating those films for modern audiences. This movie is nothing like any of those.
Essentially, The Lion King is the story of Simba (JD McRary) a lion who is the son King Mufasa (James Earl Jones) and Queen Sarabi (Alfre Woodard) and destined to be king of Pride Rock, much to the irritation of Mufasa's brother Scar (Chiwetel Ejiofor) who schemes together with a pack of Hyenas led by Shenzi (Florence Kasumba) to unseat Mufasa and take the throne for himself. When Scar makes his move, disaster follows, and Simba flees far from Pride Rock as his father's kingdom falls into ruin. Simba's childhood friend Nala (Beyonce Knowles-Carter) goes off to find him, or anyone willing to help, but finds adult Simba (Donald Glover) now living a carefree life with his friends, the meerkat Timon (Billy Eichner) and the warthog Pumbaa (Seth Rogen), and going back to save his father's kingdom is the last thing on his mind. Will he embrace his destiny?
While it's a given that the only reason films like this are even made is to cash in on nostalgia and make bundles of money, I found it interesting for a moment that this movie, save for very, very minor tweaks, was remade virtually shot-for-shot, unlike Favreau's previous venture into this remake business, Jungle Book. I mean, it's not like the original was without any flaw, and yet, unlike the people who remade Beauty and the Beast and even Aladdin, who tried to update their scripts a little bit, these folks pretty much trot out the original script, in many cases word-for-word. I'm at a loss as to what they brought to the table.
Visually, though, the movie is really an astonishing look into what computers can bring to the big screen. It calls to mind how I felt about the bland but visually-arresting 2000 film Dinosaur. There's no point to calling it a "live-action remake" because the entire film was basically birthed inside a computer, and did not, unlike any of the other remakes up until this point, feature any actual, live-action elements.
The songs, it should be said, are nothing more than covers of the Oscar-nominated (or winning) originals, with no real innovation, and as much as I'd like to say they are all improvements over the originals (and to be fair, a few of them are), the filmmakers having Seth Rogen try to sing basically prevents me from praising any of their other musical choices. Hans Zimmer, who won his only Oscar so far for this score back in 1994, basically just dusted it off, though he did add some flourishes, and one of the wordless chants from the first film actually has lyrics now. Again, though, musically, there's almost nothing new about this film, Beyonce's tacked-on single "Spirit" notwithstanding.
As strange as this may sound, this movie really does feel like some form of reparations to the African-Americans who were deprived of hearing black actors play Simba and Nala the first time around, because creatively it really just doesn't serve any other purpose.
It does make me wonder, though, what kind of truly astonishing worlds Disney could create with the tech that was on glorious display in this film.
6/10
Tuesday, July 16, 2019
Why the MCU Version of Spidey Actually Does Tony Stark No Favors (MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SPIDER-MAN: FAR FROM HOME)
As of writing, the latest Spider-Man film, Spider-Man: Far From Home, has just spent its second week at the top of the box-office in the United States and Canada. None of the trades have mentioned this, but it is the first movie to do so since Sam Raimi's Spider-Man 3 back in 2007. Put differently, it had been 12 years since a movie featuring Spider-Man had spent two weeks as America's number 1 movie. Such was the stink left by not only Spider-Man 3 but the two attempts Sony made in the years that followed to erase that film from people's memory, that Spider-Man went from a box-office champion to an also-ran. Consider: in May of 2014, The Amazing Spider-Man 2, in only its second weekend, was booted out of the top spot by Seth Rogen's and Zac Efron's Neighbors. I mean, Neighbors, for God's sake.
Given his downward box-office trajectory, therefore, folding Spidey into the Marvel Cinematic Universe was pretty much the only way that Sony Pictures could have saved the character, and what better way was there to ensure his proper integration into the MCU than to hitch Peter Parker's star to the brightest one in that particular universe, i.e. that of Tony Stark, a.k.a. Iron Man? The logic of the move was airtight.
The execution, not so much.
For Spidey's debut, Kevin Feige and the rest of the Marvel brain trust opted to have him join Tony Stark's faction of squabbling Avengers in Captain America: Civil War, a film only very loosely-based on Mark Millar's and Steve McNiven's 2006 comic in which an adult Peter Parker also sided with Iron Man against Captain America over a significant clash of beliefs. In the film, their ideological divide was differently framed, but more crucially, so was Peter Parker: he went from being the married twentysomething of the comics to a fifteen-year-old high school kid whom Tony found on Youtube catching a car and whom he then recruited to fight a couple of super soldiers, both of whom were extremely formidable, and one of whom was a confirmed killer. This was compounded by the fact that Tony essentially blackmailed Peter ("I'd better tell Aunt Hottie...") into agreeing to go with him. There was no preexisting relationship here; Tony, who was operating at the time under the apparent auspices of the United Nations, found some kid online whom he didn't know from Adam and recruited him to go toe-to-toe with Captain America. Tweak the circumstances a bit, and Tony's basically a war criminal. Granted, they weren't fighting a war (title of the film notwithstanding) and Cap didn't kill Peter, but he sure as hell could have, considering he dropped a freaking airport gangplank on him and it was, at minimum, a severe case of child endangerment.
As much as I enjoyed Civil War, this little aspect of the plot bothered me so much that up until today, when I give lectures on International Humanitarian Law to security forces, as an ice-breaker I always include slides of Iron Man and Spider-Man just to introduce the violation of recruiting children to fight in armed conflict. It felt like a necessary evil, though, and Tony did sort of end up "punished" at the end of that movie, so I could still forgive Marvel this strange, somewhat off-putting decision.
When Tony tried to recruit Peter into the Avengers at the end of Spider-Man: Homecoming, the moment is played for laughs, and premium is placed on the fact that Peter turns him down, but I still found the moment rather irksome. It's Peter who's acting like the mature adult at the end of that movie, doing the right thing and refusing, basically at Tony's expense, but as annoying as that was, it was still something I could live with, because for all its flaws I quite enjoyed Homecoming, which brought my beloved Spidey back from the yawning abyss into which Avi Arad, Matt Tolmach and their hapless sock-puppet director had plunged him.
Fortunately, in the two movies that followed, Tony took a break from his grossly improper relationship with Peter.
Tony was not to blame for what happened to Peter in Avengers: Infinity War. With Thanos' infamous snap being completely random in its effects, and considering the number of Peter's friends and community who got "dusted," it's reasonable to suppose that if Tony had never even met Peter the same fate would have befallen him and, if Tony had never met Peter, he never would have felt the guilt that impelled him, in Avengers: Endgame, to help Cap undo what Thanos had done. So Tony's heroism in those movies, especially as exemplified by his sacrifice, remains undiminished.
And then, we come to Spider-Man: Far From Home, and it's Civil War all over again.
Now, to be clear, I have no issue whatsoever with Tony's disgruntled employees being revealed as the bad guys, including classic Spidey bad guy Mysterio as played by Jake Gyllenhaal. While I found Mysterio's second-act exposition a tad gratuitous, I actually thought the twist (which anyone who has more than a passing familiarity with Spider-Man could see coming from a mile away) was pretty well-played and that it made sense in the context of the MCU.
No, I took issue with the fact that the late Tony entrusted Peter with what is effectively a weapon of mass destruction in the form of the "E.D.I.T.H." glasses. This is particularly galling when I consider that he has a number of other people in his circle, like his widow Pepper Potts, his trusted friend and Man Friday Happy Hogan, or any of his surviving Avengers teammates like the Hulk or Hawkeye to whom he could have entrusted the glasses instead. I mean, of COURSE Peter would screw up handling E.D.I.T.H.; he's a sixteen-year-old kid to whom the ramifications of this device were not properly explained.
When one thinks about it, Spider-Man wasn't at all responsible for a lot of the chaos that went down in Far From Home. It wasn't his fault, for example, that faux-Nick Fury, a.k.a. Talos the Skrull, got suckered by Mysterio's CGI trickery, which is supremely ironic considering that fooling people is supposed to be the Skrulls' stock-in-trade. If Peter made a mistake entrusting Mysterio with E.D.I.T.H., it was in no small part because faux-Fury had already given Mysterio the all-clear and basically ordered Peter to unmask in front of him, a decision that came back to bite Peter on the ass in the mid-credits sequence. Peter's bad decision basically just compounded several worse ones that had already been made by Talos and more importantly, by Tony Stark. In the end, Peter really did save the day, but the only reason he even had to in the first place was that the adults in the film had screwed up really badly, including the dead one.
Make no mistake: I genuinely enjoyed Spider-Man: Far From Home. Of the five MCU movies in which Peter Parker has appeared, it's the one that feels truest to the character. With the last-gasp cameo from J. Jonah Jameson, the film is also taking the character back to places he hasn't been since Tobey Maguire was wearing the tights. If Sony and Marvel, whose current deal regarding the use of Spidey ends with this film, decide to extend their collaboration, this franchise will be all the better for it.
I just hope they finally leave Tony Stark alone. I mean, the guy's dead. There's no need to posthumously make him an idiot, too.
Given his downward box-office trajectory, therefore, folding Spidey into the Marvel Cinematic Universe was pretty much the only way that Sony Pictures could have saved the character, and what better way was there to ensure his proper integration into the MCU than to hitch Peter Parker's star to the brightest one in that particular universe, i.e. that of Tony Stark, a.k.a. Iron Man? The logic of the move was airtight.
The execution, not so much.
For Spidey's debut, Kevin Feige and the rest of the Marvel brain trust opted to have him join Tony Stark's faction of squabbling Avengers in Captain America: Civil War, a film only very loosely-based on Mark Millar's and Steve McNiven's 2006 comic in which an adult Peter Parker also sided with Iron Man against Captain America over a significant clash of beliefs. In the film, their ideological divide was differently framed, but more crucially, so was Peter Parker: he went from being the married twentysomething of the comics to a fifteen-year-old high school kid whom Tony found on Youtube catching a car and whom he then recruited to fight a couple of super soldiers, both of whom were extremely formidable, and one of whom was a confirmed killer. This was compounded by the fact that Tony essentially blackmailed Peter ("I'd better tell Aunt Hottie...") into agreeing to go with him. There was no preexisting relationship here; Tony, who was operating at the time under the apparent auspices of the United Nations, found some kid online whom he didn't know from Adam and recruited him to go toe-to-toe with Captain America. Tweak the circumstances a bit, and Tony's basically a war criminal. Granted, they weren't fighting a war (title of the film notwithstanding) and Cap didn't kill Peter, but he sure as hell could have, considering he dropped a freaking airport gangplank on him and it was, at minimum, a severe case of child endangerment.
As much as I enjoyed Civil War, this little aspect of the plot bothered me so much that up until today, when I give lectures on International Humanitarian Law to security forces, as an ice-breaker I always include slides of Iron Man and Spider-Man just to introduce the violation of recruiting children to fight in armed conflict. It felt like a necessary evil, though, and Tony did sort of end up "punished" at the end of that movie, so I could still forgive Marvel this strange, somewhat off-putting decision.
When Tony tried to recruit Peter into the Avengers at the end of Spider-Man: Homecoming, the moment is played for laughs, and premium is placed on the fact that Peter turns him down, but I still found the moment rather irksome. It's Peter who's acting like the mature adult at the end of that movie, doing the right thing and refusing, basically at Tony's expense, but as annoying as that was, it was still something I could live with, because for all its flaws I quite enjoyed Homecoming, which brought my beloved Spidey back from the yawning abyss into which Avi Arad, Matt Tolmach and their hapless sock-puppet director had plunged him.
Fortunately, in the two movies that followed, Tony took a break from his grossly improper relationship with Peter.
Tony was not to blame for what happened to Peter in Avengers: Infinity War. With Thanos' infamous snap being completely random in its effects, and considering the number of Peter's friends and community who got "dusted," it's reasonable to suppose that if Tony had never even met Peter the same fate would have befallen him and, if Tony had never met Peter, he never would have felt the guilt that impelled him, in Avengers: Endgame, to help Cap undo what Thanos had done. So Tony's heroism in those movies, especially as exemplified by his sacrifice, remains undiminished.
And then, we come to Spider-Man: Far From Home, and it's Civil War all over again.
Now, to be clear, I have no issue whatsoever with Tony's disgruntled employees being revealed as the bad guys, including classic Spidey bad guy Mysterio as played by Jake Gyllenhaal. While I found Mysterio's second-act exposition a tad gratuitous, I actually thought the twist (which anyone who has more than a passing familiarity with Spider-Man could see coming from a mile away) was pretty well-played and that it made sense in the context of the MCU.
No, I took issue with the fact that the late Tony entrusted Peter with what is effectively a weapon of mass destruction in the form of the "E.D.I.T.H." glasses. This is particularly galling when I consider that he has a number of other people in his circle, like his widow Pepper Potts, his trusted friend and Man Friday Happy Hogan, or any of his surviving Avengers teammates like the Hulk or Hawkeye to whom he could have entrusted the glasses instead. I mean, of COURSE Peter would screw up handling E.D.I.T.H.; he's a sixteen-year-old kid to whom the ramifications of this device were not properly explained.
When one thinks about it, Spider-Man wasn't at all responsible for a lot of the chaos that went down in Far From Home. It wasn't his fault, for example, that faux-Nick Fury, a.k.a. Talos the Skrull, got suckered by Mysterio's CGI trickery, which is supremely ironic considering that fooling people is supposed to be the Skrulls' stock-in-trade. If Peter made a mistake entrusting Mysterio with E.D.I.T.H., it was in no small part because faux-Fury had already given Mysterio the all-clear and basically ordered Peter to unmask in front of him, a decision that came back to bite Peter on the ass in the mid-credits sequence. Peter's bad decision basically just compounded several worse ones that had already been made by Talos and more importantly, by Tony Stark. In the end, Peter really did save the day, but the only reason he even had to in the first place was that the adults in the film had screwed up really badly, including the dead one.
Make no mistake: I genuinely enjoyed Spider-Man: Far From Home. Of the five MCU movies in which Peter Parker has appeared, it's the one that feels truest to the character. With the last-gasp cameo from J. Jonah Jameson, the film is also taking the character back to places he hasn't been since Tobey Maguire was wearing the tights. If Sony and Marvel, whose current deal regarding the use of Spidey ends with this film, decide to extend their collaboration, this franchise will be all the better for it.
I just hope they finally leave Tony Stark alone. I mean, the guy's dead. There's no need to posthumously make him an idiot, too.
Wednesday, July 10, 2019
How Does One Follow Up The Most Massive Event Movie Ever? Pretty Impressively, as It Turns Out: A Review of Spider-Man; Far From Home
directed by Jon Watts
written by Erik Sommers and Chris McKenna
To be honest, after the gratifying, emotional roller-coaster that was Avengers: Endgame, for the very first time since the Spider-Man film franchise was launched in 2002, I did not feel any particular urgency to see Spider-Man: Far From Home. I mean, I definitely wanted to see it, but the standing-in-a-long-line, midnight-screening sense of urgency that had characterized many of my previous film viewings (especially for the Sam Raimi films, even the infamous Spider-Man 3) was now gone, and I was actually able to wait until Friday to see it after its Wednesday opening. I really didn't expect that much, thinking it would be to Endgame what Ant-Man and the Wasp was to Avengers: Infinity War: a nice chaser, nothing more.
I was honestly therefore quite surprised by how strong Spider-Man: Far From Home turned out to be. There were a few false notes in the script, and more than a fair share of tropes, none of which I dare discuss in detail lest I spoil it for anyone, but overall it was, I dare say, the strongest live-action Spider-Man movie since Spider-Man 2.
Following a bare bones, spoiler-free summary I'll dive into how I felt about this film, and how it really bodes well for the future of this particular superhero franchise.
Following the cataclysmic events of Avengers: Endgame, Peter Parker aka Spider-Man (Tom Holland) tries to resume life as a normal teenager. Well, as normal one can be after having been gone for five years. While he, his Aunt May (Marisa Tomei) and several of his high school classmates like Ned (Jacob Batalon), MJ (Zendaya), Betty (Angourie Rice) and Flash (Tony Revolori) were snapped out of existence by Thanos, only to be "blipped" back into existence thanks to the Hulk's snap in Endgame, everyone else has grown five years older, including many of his old schoolmates. Still, Peter and his friends head off on a school-sponsored trip to Europe, where he plans to confess his feeling for MJ atop the famed Eiffel Tower.
Unfortunately for Peter, however, monsters arising from what seems to be the Earth itself have started attacking various locations around the world, with his destinations in Europe among the targets. As a result, he is recruited by Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) who not only knows his identity but has a little present for him: a pair of glasses from the late Tony Stark (Robert Downey, Jr., who's not in the movie but whose face shows up basically everywhere), which also happen to give Peter access to a massive, satellite-based attack drone network which is not unlike the massive Project: Insight that HYDRA wanted to set up back in Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Peter feels out of his depth when fighting the monsters, so when a new hero, Mysterio (Jake Gyllenhaal) shows up and holds his own against one of them, he looks to him for guidance, and as a possible wielder for the massive power to which he has just been given access.
While this movie has received generally good reviews, not everyone is thrilled with it, and as much as I liked the film I can see where the detractors are coming from, specifically when it comes to the film's seeming obsession with Tony Stark. It does seem like overkill, but personally I can forgive it because this is the world that was basically built around Iron Man, so it makes sense that this world, even Spider-Man's corner of it, would really feel his death.
Also, I can forgive the constant mention of Iron Man because at the end of the day, he really just provides the backdrop for what happens. It's ultimately Spider-Man's actions and decisions that push the narrative forward, for better or for worse. Unlike in Spider-Man: Homecoming, in which Peter mysteriously got away with a surprisingly high number of bad decisions, here, Peter's bad choices, the worst of which stems from his desire to turn his back on the superhero life and just live as he wants, have actual consequences that he has to deal with if he wants to live his life as planned. The whole "great power, great responsibility" credo may not receive explicit mention here (and for that matter, it hasn't received any explicit mention since the Raimi films), but much more than they did in the last film, the filmmakers really take pains to impress upon Peter just how important that particular life lesson is.
Of course, there are the usual critiques about the proliferation of CGI battles, but as hard as this may be to explain without delving into spoilers, there's actually a context for them in this film, and overall they work quite well. If nothing else, though, Marvel and Sony have really gotten down pat the art of presenting a digital Peter Parker swinging from place to place, so much so that the shots of a plainclothes-wearing Peter swinging through Venice looked reasonably convincing. Also, for anyone who may have missed it, the filmmakers bring back Spidey's famed "final swing" with a little bit of a twist this time, and it looks downright glorious.
The main reason, however, that it's easy to forgive this film its shortcomings, whether it's the Stark-mania or CGI bombast, is that its leads give such winning, down-to-earth performance that it's hard not to get drawn into their story. This is still a movie about a high school kid, after all, and the struggles he faces in telling the girl of his dreams how he feels, and Holland captures the heartache and angst of this epic struggle perfectly. As the seemingly disinterested MJ, Zendaya provides a perfect foil to Peter's painful yearning, and their chemistry here holds up well in comparison to that between previous incarnations of Spider-Man and his leading ladies. It's certainly a step up from his awkward chemistry with Liz from the last film.
Gyllenhaal makes a welcome addition to Spider-Man's world, and it really was high time they introduced Mysterio, one of the classic Lee-Ditko creations. It's hard to go into what made him such a memorable character without venturing into spoiler territory, so I'll stop there. Samuel L. Jackson and Cobie Smulders make a welcome return as Nick Fury and Maria Hill, respectively, though stick around for the usual end-credits treats if something about them seems a little off to you.
And whatever you do, do NOT miss the mid-credits stinger.
8.5/10
written by Erik Sommers and Chris McKenna
To be honest, after the gratifying, emotional roller-coaster that was Avengers: Endgame, for the very first time since the Spider-Man film franchise was launched in 2002, I did not feel any particular urgency to see Spider-Man: Far From Home. I mean, I definitely wanted to see it, but the standing-in-a-long-line, midnight-screening sense of urgency that had characterized many of my previous film viewings (especially for the Sam Raimi films, even the infamous Spider-Man 3) was now gone, and I was actually able to wait until Friday to see it after its Wednesday opening. I really didn't expect that much, thinking it would be to Endgame what Ant-Man and the Wasp was to Avengers: Infinity War: a nice chaser, nothing more.
I was honestly therefore quite surprised by how strong Spider-Man: Far From Home turned out to be. There were a few false notes in the script, and more than a fair share of tropes, none of which I dare discuss in detail lest I spoil it for anyone, but overall it was, I dare say, the strongest live-action Spider-Man movie since Spider-Man 2.
Following a bare bones, spoiler-free summary I'll dive into how I felt about this film, and how it really bodes well for the future of this particular superhero franchise.
Following the cataclysmic events of Avengers: Endgame, Peter Parker aka Spider-Man (Tom Holland) tries to resume life as a normal teenager. Well, as normal one can be after having been gone for five years. While he, his Aunt May (Marisa Tomei) and several of his high school classmates like Ned (Jacob Batalon), MJ (Zendaya), Betty (Angourie Rice) and Flash (Tony Revolori) were snapped out of existence by Thanos, only to be "blipped" back into existence thanks to the Hulk's snap in Endgame, everyone else has grown five years older, including many of his old schoolmates. Still, Peter and his friends head off on a school-sponsored trip to Europe, where he plans to confess his feeling for MJ atop the famed Eiffel Tower.
Unfortunately for Peter, however, monsters arising from what seems to be the Earth itself have started attacking various locations around the world, with his destinations in Europe among the targets. As a result, he is recruited by Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) who not only knows his identity but has a little present for him: a pair of glasses from the late Tony Stark (Robert Downey, Jr., who's not in the movie but whose face shows up basically everywhere), which also happen to give Peter access to a massive, satellite-based attack drone network which is not unlike the massive Project: Insight that HYDRA wanted to set up back in Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Peter feels out of his depth when fighting the monsters, so when a new hero, Mysterio (Jake Gyllenhaal) shows up and holds his own against one of them, he looks to him for guidance, and as a possible wielder for the massive power to which he has just been given access.
While this movie has received generally good reviews, not everyone is thrilled with it, and as much as I liked the film I can see where the detractors are coming from, specifically when it comes to the film's seeming obsession with Tony Stark. It does seem like overkill, but personally I can forgive it because this is the world that was basically built around Iron Man, so it makes sense that this world, even Spider-Man's corner of it, would really feel his death.
Also, I can forgive the constant mention of Iron Man because at the end of the day, he really just provides the backdrop for what happens. It's ultimately Spider-Man's actions and decisions that push the narrative forward, for better or for worse. Unlike in Spider-Man: Homecoming, in which Peter mysteriously got away with a surprisingly high number of bad decisions, here, Peter's bad choices, the worst of which stems from his desire to turn his back on the superhero life and just live as he wants, have actual consequences that he has to deal with if he wants to live his life as planned. The whole "great power, great responsibility" credo may not receive explicit mention here (and for that matter, it hasn't received any explicit mention since the Raimi films), but much more than they did in the last film, the filmmakers really take pains to impress upon Peter just how important that particular life lesson is.
Of course, there are the usual critiques about the proliferation of CGI battles, but as hard as this may be to explain without delving into spoilers, there's actually a context for them in this film, and overall they work quite well. If nothing else, though, Marvel and Sony have really gotten down pat the art of presenting a digital Peter Parker swinging from place to place, so much so that the shots of a plainclothes-wearing Peter swinging through Venice looked reasonably convincing. Also, for anyone who may have missed it, the filmmakers bring back Spidey's famed "final swing" with a little bit of a twist this time, and it looks downright glorious.
The main reason, however, that it's easy to forgive this film its shortcomings, whether it's the Stark-mania or CGI bombast, is that its leads give such winning, down-to-earth performance that it's hard not to get drawn into their story. This is still a movie about a high school kid, after all, and the struggles he faces in telling the girl of his dreams how he feels, and Holland captures the heartache and angst of this epic struggle perfectly. As the seemingly disinterested MJ, Zendaya provides a perfect foil to Peter's painful yearning, and their chemistry here holds up well in comparison to that between previous incarnations of Spider-Man and his leading ladies. It's certainly a step up from his awkward chemistry with Liz from the last film.
Gyllenhaal makes a welcome addition to Spider-Man's world, and it really was high time they introduced Mysterio, one of the classic Lee-Ditko creations. It's hard to go into what made him such a memorable character without venturing into spoiler territory, so I'll stop there. Samuel L. Jackson and Cobie Smulders make a welcome return as Nick Fury and Maria Hill, respectively, though stick around for the usual end-credits treats if something about them seems a little off to you.
And whatever you do, do NOT miss the mid-credits stinger.
8.5/10
Sunday, July 7, 2019
Disney's Disturbing New Advocacy (HEAVY SPOILERS FOR TOY STORY 4, AVENGERS ENDGAME and WRECK-IT-RALPH 2)
In late 2018, I was quite surprisingly infuriated with the sequel to 2012's Wreck-It-Ralph, I movie I had actually loved, when it became clear that this film (the sequel) was clearly advocating the plan of Vanellope Von Schweetz (Sarah Silverman) to abandon her game, "Sugar Rush," so that she could hang out in the hellish wasteland of some Grand Theft Auto knockoff. I thrashed that movie harder than I ever have or probably ever will again for no other reason than that it felt like a complete betrayal of everything the first movie had stood for so eloquently. I moved on, though.
Last April, I was vaguely disturbed when the otherwise sublime Avengers: Endgame ended with one of the original six Avengers, Thor no less, the King of Asgard, deciding to abdicate his throne at the end of the film to go traipsing off to space with the Guardians of the Galaxy. Not to pursue some higher calling, mind you, but simply to "find himself" by hanging out with a gang of adventurers. It bothered me, much in the same way that Captain America's "retirement" to grow old with Peggy bothered many other viewers, but the movie that had come before it was just so thoroughly enjoyable that it was a niggle I was willing to forgive, if only just.
Finally, less than two weeks ago, I found myself genuinely shocked when, at the end of Toy Story 4, Woody the Cowboy played by the incomparable Tom Hanks, who has spent all three movies advocating loyalty to "his kid" and togetherness of his family, decided to abandon his owner Bonnie and his entire gang to hang out with his old flame Bopeep and her new crew of toys. This was how the movie ended, and we the audience are clearly meant to cheer on Woody in his new status quo, just as we're meant to look forward to seeing Thor gallivanting across the galaxy with Peter Quill and company, instead of being the King he was clearly set up to be at the end of his own trilogy of films, and just as we're meant to agree that Ralph is a "toxic friend" for wanting to help Vanellope save her game when she clearly just wants to bail out.
So basically, that's three high-profile movies that Disney has clearly advocated for walking out on one's obligations and responsibilities. It's less egregious in Woody's case because it is strongly suggested at the very beginning of the film that the person he's walking out on, namely Bonnie, doesn't really need him, but it's still a betrayal of everything he's stood for his entire life. It's way, way worse with Thor because he's effectively a head of state abandoning his people, and basically leaving a former soldier who happens to be a recovering alcoholic, in charge of everything. But hey, at least Thor left someone in charge. Vanellope just dismissed the concerns of her game saying "they'll be fine without me" and hightailed it to her new home, making her, hands down, the worst of them all.
What the hell is going on, Disney? After giving Woody and his pals a perfect ending in Toy Story 3, why on earth would you follow it up with an ending that is positively hateful? After taking all the time and effort to develop Thor from a brash, arrogant whelp to a king who has gained both humility and wisdom from his many experiences, why would you want to regress him to a beer-guzzling man-child who doesn't give a shit about anything except his next adventure? And why, oh, why after sweetly telling audiences that it's okay to accept your lot in life even you have a shitty job and will never live in a penthouse, are you now telling them that when some rich asshole wants to abandon their responsibilities and go slumming somewhere else, you should just let them? How is this teaching kids anything positive?
I really want to know, because as someone who has grown up with your product, and as someone who has exposed his children to the same, I honestly want to know if it's just time to take my money and go elsewhere.
I'm really glad Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse kicked your sorry asses at the Oscars, and I'm hoping someone else does it again next year.
Last April, I was vaguely disturbed when the otherwise sublime Avengers: Endgame ended with one of the original six Avengers, Thor no less, the King of Asgard, deciding to abdicate his throne at the end of the film to go traipsing off to space with the Guardians of the Galaxy. Not to pursue some higher calling, mind you, but simply to "find himself" by hanging out with a gang of adventurers. It bothered me, much in the same way that Captain America's "retirement" to grow old with Peggy bothered many other viewers, but the movie that had come before it was just so thoroughly enjoyable that it was a niggle I was willing to forgive, if only just.
Finally, less than two weeks ago, I found myself genuinely shocked when, at the end of Toy Story 4, Woody the Cowboy played by the incomparable Tom Hanks, who has spent all three movies advocating loyalty to "his kid" and togetherness of his family, decided to abandon his owner Bonnie and his entire gang to hang out with his old flame Bopeep and her new crew of toys. This was how the movie ended, and we the audience are clearly meant to cheer on Woody in his new status quo, just as we're meant to look forward to seeing Thor gallivanting across the galaxy with Peter Quill and company, instead of being the King he was clearly set up to be at the end of his own trilogy of films, and just as we're meant to agree that Ralph is a "toxic friend" for wanting to help Vanellope save her game when she clearly just wants to bail out.
So basically, that's three high-profile movies that Disney has clearly advocated for walking out on one's obligations and responsibilities. It's less egregious in Woody's case because it is strongly suggested at the very beginning of the film that the person he's walking out on, namely Bonnie, doesn't really need him, but it's still a betrayal of everything he's stood for his entire life. It's way, way worse with Thor because he's effectively a head of state abandoning his people, and basically leaving a former soldier who happens to be a recovering alcoholic, in charge of everything. But hey, at least Thor left someone in charge. Vanellope just dismissed the concerns of her game saying "they'll be fine without me" and hightailed it to her new home, making her, hands down, the worst of them all.
What the hell is going on, Disney? After giving Woody and his pals a perfect ending in Toy Story 3, why on earth would you follow it up with an ending that is positively hateful? After taking all the time and effort to develop Thor from a brash, arrogant whelp to a king who has gained both humility and wisdom from his many experiences, why would you want to regress him to a beer-guzzling man-child who doesn't give a shit about anything except his next adventure? And why, oh, why after sweetly telling audiences that it's okay to accept your lot in life even you have a shitty job and will never live in a penthouse, are you now telling them that when some rich asshole wants to abandon their responsibilities and go slumming somewhere else, you should just let them? How is this teaching kids anything positive?
I really want to know, because as someone who has grown up with your product, and as someone who has exposed his children to the same, I honestly want to know if it's just time to take my money and go elsewhere.
I'm really glad Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse kicked your sorry asses at the Oscars, and I'm hoping someone else does it again next year.
Saturday, June 29, 2019
Yet Another "Ending": A Review of Toy Story 4
directed by Josh Cooley
written by Andrew Stanton, Stephanie Folsom, Rashida Jones, Valerie LaPointe, Will McCormack, Martin Hynes, Cooley and John Lasseter
I'll be honest: when I heard this movie was being made, I groaned. Toy Story 3 which came out nine years ago, was the perfect sendoff for these characters, and even just the thought of a follow-up left a bad taste in my mouth. Sure, they had subsequent adventures in short films and TV specials, but these were inoffensive affairs that went down easy, like canapes at a party. It was nice to check in on Woody and the gang every once in a while. While I understood the logic behind a sequel, I did not at all welcome it, and I dare say, having seen the film, that Disney and Pixar have done very little to change my mind.
The movie starts with a flashback; it's been established by Toy Story 3 that Bopeep (Annie Potts) left the group at an undisclosed time between the second and third movie, and Toy Story 4 finally plays that moment out. It's a moment full of regret and heartbreak for Woody the Cowboy (Tom Hanks) in particular as he is forced to choose between his loyalty to Andy and his love for Bopeep, who is about to be given away to a new owner, and we already know how that played out. Moving back to the present after a brief title sequence, we now find Woody and friends at their new home with Bonnie (Madeleine McGraw). It's a period of adjustment for Woody, who is no longer the "head toy" of this group, that distinction belonging to Dolly (Bonnie Hunt). Desperately in search of purpose for a kid who doesn't seem to need him as much as Andy did, Woody finds it when he sees that Bonnie is terrified of going to pre-school. He then stows away in her backpack and, when she gets to school, sneaks a bunch of art supplies onto her desk. As a result, Bonnie makes herself a toy out a spork, pipe cleaner, clay and Popsicle sticks, names him Forky, and instantly falls in love with him. Seeing her attachment to her new toy, Woody takes it on himself to protect him, which becomes more difficult than Woody imagined when Forky comes to life (voiced by Tony Hale) and, in a franchise-first twist, rejects his status as a toy and constantly tries to throw himself in the trash. Thing get even worse when Bonnie's parents decide to take her on a road trip and Forky flings himself from the RV (a shot spoiled in the trailers, so give me a break). In his efforts to save Forky and reunite him with the others, Woody finds himself meeting an unsettling doll named Gabby Gabby (Christina Hendricks) who has an eye on his voice box, and then meets a most unexpected blast from his past.
I won't dare go into spoiler territory with this review, and to go into my problems with the film involves very heavy spoilers, so I'll limit my comments to Pixar's technique, which is utterly superb. Given that the last time viewers saw Bopeep onscreen was nearly twenty years ago the leaps and bounds in the way in which she is rendered are quite noticeable, even moreso than the improvements made to Helen Parr in last year's The Incredibles 2. Basically, the technical proficiency on display here is beyond reproach; Pixar may not be the innovators they once were (with Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse having stolen their thunder at the last Oscars for this very reason) but they are definitely at the very apex in terms of technique.
Bopeep is the highlight here, and Annie Potts really seems to relish her return to this role, which is bigger in this film than it has ever been, and of course Tom Hanks continues to make Woody the most likable animated character in Pixar's entire library. This is primarily their story, as the rest of the original crew are very much relegated to the background, with only Buzz getting the slightest hint of a subplot. New characters get the chance to shine, like Ally Maki as Giggle McDimples, Bopeep's tiny sidekick, Keegan Michael Key's and Jordan Peele's carnival prize toys Ducky and Bunny who have a number of funny scenes, especially their "winner-winner-chicken dinner" routine, and of course Keanu Reeves as Duke Caboom, who steals every scene he's in and, as incredible as this may sound, actually gets his very own character arc. If I'm honest, this movie has a lot of what made the original trilogy as enjoyable as it was.
Why the low score, then? Well, I'll have to go deep into spoiler territory for that elsewhere, but suffice it to say the writers took the characters in a direction that feels like a complete betrayal of everything that the previous films stood for. This kind of cast a pall on everything, to the amazing upgraded graphics, to Randy Newman's score and even the more entertaining performances. In fact, it made Pixar's patented third-act weepy moment that much more infuriating.
This movie is basically the animated version of Jason Bourne, a completely superfluous follow-up to a perfectly-concluded trilogy which is made with considerable technical prowess, but feels narratively bankrupt. In fact, TS4, goes one further; it actually spits on the values espoused by the old trilogy.
6/10
written by Andrew Stanton, Stephanie Folsom, Rashida Jones, Valerie LaPointe, Will McCormack, Martin Hynes, Cooley and John Lasseter
I'll be honest: when I heard this movie was being made, I groaned. Toy Story 3 which came out nine years ago, was the perfect sendoff for these characters, and even just the thought of a follow-up left a bad taste in my mouth. Sure, they had subsequent adventures in short films and TV specials, but these were inoffensive affairs that went down easy, like canapes at a party. It was nice to check in on Woody and the gang every once in a while. While I understood the logic behind a sequel, I did not at all welcome it, and I dare say, having seen the film, that Disney and Pixar have done very little to change my mind.
The movie starts with a flashback; it's been established by Toy Story 3 that Bopeep (Annie Potts) left the group at an undisclosed time between the second and third movie, and Toy Story 4 finally plays that moment out. It's a moment full of regret and heartbreak for Woody the Cowboy (Tom Hanks) in particular as he is forced to choose between his loyalty to Andy and his love for Bopeep, who is about to be given away to a new owner, and we already know how that played out. Moving back to the present after a brief title sequence, we now find Woody and friends at their new home with Bonnie (Madeleine McGraw). It's a period of adjustment for Woody, who is no longer the "head toy" of this group, that distinction belonging to Dolly (Bonnie Hunt). Desperately in search of purpose for a kid who doesn't seem to need him as much as Andy did, Woody finds it when he sees that Bonnie is terrified of going to pre-school. He then stows away in her backpack and, when she gets to school, sneaks a bunch of art supplies onto her desk. As a result, Bonnie makes herself a toy out a spork, pipe cleaner, clay and Popsicle sticks, names him Forky, and instantly falls in love with him. Seeing her attachment to her new toy, Woody takes it on himself to protect him, which becomes more difficult than Woody imagined when Forky comes to life (voiced by Tony Hale) and, in a franchise-first twist, rejects his status as a toy and constantly tries to throw himself in the trash. Thing get even worse when Bonnie's parents decide to take her on a road trip and Forky flings himself from the RV (a shot spoiled in the trailers, so give me a break). In his efforts to save Forky and reunite him with the others, Woody finds himself meeting an unsettling doll named Gabby Gabby (Christina Hendricks) who has an eye on his voice box, and then meets a most unexpected blast from his past.
I won't dare go into spoiler territory with this review, and to go into my problems with the film involves very heavy spoilers, so I'll limit my comments to Pixar's technique, which is utterly superb. Given that the last time viewers saw Bopeep onscreen was nearly twenty years ago the leaps and bounds in the way in which she is rendered are quite noticeable, even moreso than the improvements made to Helen Parr in last year's The Incredibles 2. Basically, the technical proficiency on display here is beyond reproach; Pixar may not be the innovators they once were (with Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse having stolen their thunder at the last Oscars for this very reason) but they are definitely at the very apex in terms of technique.
Bopeep is the highlight here, and Annie Potts really seems to relish her return to this role, which is bigger in this film than it has ever been, and of course Tom Hanks continues to make Woody the most likable animated character in Pixar's entire library. This is primarily their story, as the rest of the original crew are very much relegated to the background, with only Buzz getting the slightest hint of a subplot. New characters get the chance to shine, like Ally Maki as Giggle McDimples, Bopeep's tiny sidekick, Keegan Michael Key's and Jordan Peele's carnival prize toys Ducky and Bunny who have a number of funny scenes, especially their "winner-winner-chicken dinner" routine, and of course Keanu Reeves as Duke Caboom, who steals every scene he's in and, as incredible as this may sound, actually gets his very own character arc. If I'm honest, this movie has a lot of what made the original trilogy as enjoyable as it was.
Why the low score, then? Well, I'll have to go deep into spoiler territory for that elsewhere, but suffice it to say the writers took the characters in a direction that feels like a complete betrayal of everything that the previous films stood for. This kind of cast a pall on everything, to the amazing upgraded graphics, to Randy Newman's score and even the more entertaining performances. In fact, it made Pixar's patented third-act weepy moment that much more infuriating.
This movie is basically the animated version of Jason Bourne, a completely superfluous follow-up to a perfectly-concluded trilogy which is made with considerable technical prowess, but feels narratively bankrupt. In fact, TS4, goes one further; it actually spits on the values espoused by the old trilogy.
6/10
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)