The MEG (2018)

   Director: Jon Turteltaub  With: Jason Statham, Li Bingbing, Rainn Wilson, Winston Chao, Cliff Curtis, Page Kennedy, Jessica McNamee, Ólafur Darri Ólafsson, Robert Taylor, Shuya Sophia, & Masi Oka.    Release: Aug 10, 2018 PG-13. 1 hr. 53 min. 

Director: Jon Turteltaub
With: Jason Statham, Li Bingbing, Rainn Wilson, Winston Chao, Cliff Curtis, Page Kennedy, Jessica McNamee, Ólafur Darri Ólafsson, Robert Taylor, Shuya Sophia, & Masi Oka.   
Release: Aug 10, 2018
PG-13. 1 hr. 53 min. 


In the dog days of August, we all need to go see a movie like Jon Turteltaub’s (“The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” & “National Treasure”) “The MEG," a movie that exemplifies the sheer blissfulness of a Hollywood movie, the conflict of man and nature in an extravagant spectacle of a movie. To no one’s surprise, the newest adaptation of Steve Allen’s bestselling novel comes nowhere near the 1975 Spielbergian classic “JAWS,” one of the few truly perfect works of American cinema. Despite making that separation, “The MEG” is what you want out of a movie of it's kind. To confine my sentiments, it's a well-tuned see through thriller at it's best, a film in which action star Jason Statham battles a prehistorically resurrected monster Shark known as the Megalodon.  

The science behind the existence of that beast is nonsensical, but the sight of the shark itself is spectacular. The magnitude of this kind of animal, lurking in our unnatural habitat, giving it a natural edge over us as a predator, is striking. How does Statham develop his rivalry with this creature though? Well, his first interaction with the revived dinosaurs cost the lives of three of his friends as well as many others. He’s a rescue diver, one of three whose attempted a dive of more than 1000m or something like that. He’s a formidable hero, for reasons, most of them being his bravery, not saying much considering few of the characters surrounding him are not nearly as courageous. 

One of the best parts of all of this is the name of our hero, “Jona,” short for “Jonas,” and yes the tale of “Jona” does play a factor at some point and time. Nonetheless, his tales of an enormous predator intruding on his last mission, are dismissed as pressure-induced psychosis. He leaves the scene of deep rescue diving, resorting to the land of Thailand, spending his time as a damaged hero whose never-ending bender is used to wash away his failures. He’s a broken man, one we’ve seen before, who inevitably finds himself back in the saddle when a research facility which just so happens to employ his ex-wife, the doctor that got him fired, and former teammates suddenly require his assistance. 

Coincidental plot points aside, the monster was rediscovered when this $1.3 billion facility spends its opening day exploring the bottom of the Marianas Trench. The theory? A rift of musky cold air has hidden an undiscovered world beneath, one that inhabits new life, new species, and beasts that were thought to be extinct. They soon discover that this new world has locked away a feat of predatory evolution, one that immediately endangers the lives of the divers, who are later saved by our resurrected hero. During this suicidal mission, they accidentally provide a “mega-shark highway,” as Rainn Wilson put it, one that allowed this unevolved beast to slip through into the open sea. A creature that evolution has passed by, and one that mother nature locked away for a reason.

Jonas (Jason Statham) knows that and immediately has the right idea of killing this beast, an opinion not shared by the scientists or the investor. It’s an opportunity for both of them, and “The MEG” takes off from there as the drama kicks in and the forced romance occurs, and the predictable thrills and shrills unfold onto the silver screen, and it’s all so much fun. 

It’s not often to hear a critic utter the words “fun,” but here I am. The film is what it's trying to be, recognizing the fandom for the absurdity of “Sharknado” and the box office thirst for the horror of “JAWS,” Dean Georgaris and co-screenwriters Jon Hoeber and Erich Hoeber provide a formulaic blend of those styles, one that is insanely thrilling. It has a lot of redundancy and goofiness and cliches sprinkled throughout its runtime, but it all amounts to something that knows what it is and what audience it's aiming to be accepted by.

The direction is sensically and arguably skillful, Jon Turteltaub finds himself as the perfect choice to helm the directorial reigns of a movie such as this one, relying on the lessons he learned from the “National Treasure” trilogy. Taking something that began so preposterously serious and grew to become sillier than intended, recognizing the bizarreness of the events on screen. Same thing goes with “The MEG,” Turteltaub goes in with the right state of mind, recognizing that the film lacks the potential to surpass something like “JAWS,” not that another film like this ever will, and knows that it won’t be taken seriously if he makes it as tongue and cheek as films like “Sand Sharks.” He’s in the right frame of thinking, knowing when to showcase his abilities as a filmmaker by providing genuinely thrilling shark sequences while reining the film in with the silliness of a Hollywood movie. 

The screenwriting has all the tropes and the expectational twists and turns and direct references to "JAWS," but it has a style and sense of wit to it, even giving its characters some believable choices at times. Going as far as to use the audience’s assumptions to manifest a surprise or two, "The MEG" emplores every resource it has, allowing former diver turned movie star, Jason Statham, to depict a character that smiles every once in a while, becoming the essential anchor of this movie. He’s the one that makes this movie work, along with an ensemble that does nothing but provide that extra oomph the movie needs, like that of Ruby Rose and Bingbing Li providing some energetic moments, as well as Rainn Wilson and Page Kennedy who dash a few sprinkles of charisma on top of this donut of a movie. 

An adequate analogy of what this movie is, a donut, something delicious and worth trying, but not necessarily good for you. The same goes for "The MEG," it’s not necessarily a good film, but it's honest. Everyone is on the same page; no one has false expectations, no one is aiming for a comparison, it all makes sense. It’s a movie that knows what it is and who it's for, only missing scenes like Statham punching a Megalodon. That would have made this movie the "Citizen Kane" of the modern-era.

Blindspotting (2018)

   Director: Carlos López Estrada  With: Daveed Diggs, Rafael Casal, Janina Gavankar, Jasmine Cephas Jones, Ethan Embry, Tisha Campbell-Martin, & Utkarsh Ambudkar.  Release: July 27, 2018 R. 1 hr. 35 min. 

Director: Carlos López Estrada
With: Daveed Diggs, Rafael Casal, Janina Gavankar, Jasmine Cephas Jones, Ethan Embry, Tisha Campbell-Martin, & Utkarsh Ambudkar. 
Release: July 27, 2018
R. 1 hr. 35 min. 


Carlos López Estrada’s “Blindspotting” is the fourth film in the quadrilogy of black empowering filmmaking. The non-Hollywood, Hollywood promoted, year of filmmaking continues as “Blindspotting” joins the likes of Ryan Coogler’s “Black Panther,” Boots Riley’s “Sorry To Bother You,” and Spike Lee’s “BlacKkKlansman.” With more to come down the pipe, 2018 seems to be a tangible figment of change occurring in real-time, using Oakland, California as the reoccurring outset for these cinematically jarring stories that feel unequivocally representative of someone who’s never worked a day in Hollywood. 

Daring to breach the unwritten contract between the screen and it's viewing audience, providing comprehensive investigations of the inherent differences between a white man’s daily life and that of someone of color. Disregarding the preconceived notions on how a film should treat it's brown and black characters, rather providing another emotionally scarring and psyche challenging story that not only reflects ourselves but, in the case of “Blindspotting,” surreally dissects the differences between white and black. 

It’s a horror film at its core, and it's a drama on the other hand. Dependent on which side of the colored picket fence you reside in will decide that emotional response. It’s a heavy hitting story, one that grasps for fantasy, while remaining persistently tethered to reality. It’s a scathing trip of a movie, like that of “Sorry To Bother You,” even borrowing certain aspects of that film in that of the engineered craftsmanship in which screenwriters Rafael Casal and Daveed Diggs (“Hamilton”) allow the slang and rhymes of freestyling to express their climaxes of emotion. 

It’s uncommon to see the two stars of the film be the leading voices for the film’s identity on the screen and behind it, constructing a narrative that focuses on the relationship between Collin (Daveed Diggs) and Miles (Rafael Casal). Two best friends since childhood who work at a moving company together, finding themselves in the midst of an ever-changing Oakland. The Raiders are moving to Vegas, the Warriors are on-top, and police officers have become the town bully. With recruiting posters on each block and every street shop, it seems that everyone is signing up to join the winning team, a team that becomes a nightmare for our convicted felon star, Collin (Daveed Diggs). 

He’s driving home one night, returning to his probation stay in which the curfew is 11 pm, running late from a night out with Miles (Rafael Casal), he comes across a long red light on a lonely street. Staring at the red shine of the streetlamp, waiting for the switch to green. When it does, he steps on the gas in a hurry to meet his curfew. He’s only got three days left, so it’s crunch time for our main character, but as he begins to go on his merry way, a scared and running black figure slams into his truck, keeping him from proceeding. 

Suddenly a cop appears behind him, as the chase ensues, the officer stops, draws his gun, and shoots the fleeing “criminal” in the back. The "armed suspect" resisted arrest is the story, one sole witness can say otherwise, but he never does. Even poking fun at it, telling his lifelong friend the next day “What am I gonna do, call them up, yes I’d like to report a murder, the one you did last night. Yes, I am a convicted felon, back to jail tomorrow? Sounds good to me, see you then.” 

It’s the name of the game for someone like Collin (Daveed Diggs), but perhaps life wouldn’t be as difficult as it seems without the thorn in his side known as MIles (Rafael Casal). He’s the kind of friend who causes you more trouble than you can handle, buying a gun, illegally, at the beginning of the film. He’s somewhat responsible for Collin (Daveed Diggs) going to jail in the first place, and he’s a constant leach on the back of Collin (Daveed Diggs). Despite all the right things Collin (Daveed Diggs) does, he is never given that inherent benefit of the doubt that his screw-up of a friend, Miles, (Rafael Casal) is afforded. 

It’s the ultimate color of comparison, one that exemplifies the title card of the film. Showcasing how we automatically associate criminality by color or potential for violence by history. Assuming before acting, despite when someone like Miles (Rafael Casal) exemplifies the tough guy mentality of someone whose masculinity and over compensation for his street cred consistently push him towards decisions that ultimately end with violence. 

Collin (Daveed Diggs) becomes more of a father-figure for Miles (Rafael Casal), striving to teach him the proper perspective for life, consistently arguing that he’s living a healthy life now. He’s got an ex-girlfriend whose all about that journey of mentoring health, finding ways to discover your better self, unlike that of Miles (Rafael Casal) who continually retreats, repeating mistakes. Yet, Collin (Daveed Diggs) is the one who finds himself latched onto the hook. The one held responsible for someone else's actions, the one whose complained on by customers, just trying not to be another “black guy with dreads.” 

It’s a palpable glimpse of the fundamentally different paths that we walk as white people and black people, the scapegoats that we as someone colored lighter are afforded. It’s an example of that “Blindspotting” we have as a culture and as an American society, to associate an ambiguous result to the images we see, despite there being a far more obvious answer in the realm of explanation. 

An empowering and emotionally tormenting, thematically riveting, message that is spouted off to us through dialogue at one point, the one blemish to be found on this absurdly realistic gem of a film. Despite catching onto the scent that Diggs, Casal, and Estrada are leaving behind, we are forced to sit down and be told what the story is, despite us already knowing where this is going. Forgetting to trust that we can read between the lines of the story, “Blindspottting” loses itself in those few scenes, but picks up with that of it's freestyling ambitions. 

Daveed Diggs takes center stage in those moments, unleashing verbal warfare that is encased with thematic richness as his words carry emotion with operatic precision. The climax itself involves an enraged, poetically written, soliloquy that could only be delivered by someone with verbal talents of Daveed Diggs. His real-life friend, Rafael Casal finds himself with a handful of exceptional freestyling as well, but it's his moments of emotional expression where he stands out. When he’s allowed to deliver these powerful paragraphs of dialogue with intensity and misplaced rage, forgetting the commonality he shares with the people he dissociates himself from, being asked to call his “black” friend the n-word at one point, thinking that he has earned the same unexpressed rights to become enraged by someone’s wrongful associations. 

He’s a character that seems to confuse his struggles as the same of his friends, though he has more merit than most, there is an underlying difference between the two. Carlos López Estrada and veteran cinematographer Robby Baumgartner assist in exemplifying that difference with these sleeking and rhythmically designed visuals. The cuts and edits fire on all cylinders, transitioning between perspectives with a sense of socially intended dynamics. Like that of transferring us from a "behind the back" shot of Collin (Daveed Diggs) to a "behind the back" shot of Miles’ (Rafael Calas) son sprinting throughout his home, a reminder of how being black in America seems to be a constant state of running away from something. 

From racism, from underlying discrimination, from the police, from politics, from America; it’s a life spent on the brink of fear. How can we comprehend that? How can we construe the idea of a life that is so vastly different from our own? I am not sure there is an answer, it takes time for our brain to change the way we see these things, as Val (Janina Gavankar) explains. How much more time though? How many more police shootings? “Blindspotting” is an attempt at giving us another peek behind the psychology of living life under fret, providing low comedy with extreme drama. It’s another chapter in this renaissance of 2018, another one that is worth seeing. This is what happens when new voices begin to tell stories. 

BlacKkKlansman (2018)

   Director: Spike Lee  With: John David Washington, Adam Driver, Laura Harrier, Topher Grace, Ryan Eggold, Jasper Pääkkönen, Isiah Whitlock Jr., Robert John Burke, & Alec Baldwin. Release: Aug 10, 2018 R. 2 hr. 14 min.

Director: Spike Lee
With: John David Washington, Adam Driver, Laura Harrier, Topher Grace, Ryan Eggold, Jasper Pääkkönen, Isiah Whitlock Jr., Robert John Burke, & Alec Baldwin.
Release: Aug 10, 2018
R. 2 hr. 14 min.


“BlacKkKlansman” is like the sober recollection of a drunk America, conducting a juxtaposition of our contemporary and historical interactions with racism. Presenting itself as a dichotomy, vilifying racism as an absurdly, laughable, and hysterically ignorant formulation of a thought process.  While simultaneously, employing the inherent savagery that stems from the roots of what we would like to believe was yesteryear of American hypocrisy. Director Spike Lee and his co-screenwriters Kevin Willmott, David Rabinowitz, and Charlie Wachtel adapt a tale of duplicity, one that invokes an authentic depiction of social justice for our fellow black man that was first uncovered in Ron Stallworth’s 2014 memoir. 

Stallworth, depicted by John David Washington, was a Colorado Springs Police Officer, one of the town’s first. Being asked to become apart of the force in a mannerism that didn’t precisely construe the idea that everyone was on board, and they weren’t. Asked if he would be able to deal with such obscene torment from both fellow officers and residents, Stallworth (John David Washington) was able to find it within himself to see the forest through the trees. To view the sun peaking through the rain heavy clouds that hanged overhead, able to see the potential of a black cop investigating into white man shenanigans. 

That’s exactly what happened too, after a constant barrage of department change-ups, Stallworth (John David Washington) found himself in the role of an undercover detective. His first investigation was to infiltrate a black panther rally and depict if any potential acts of violence may be caused by what was then called a “terrorist organization.” 

After a long night, meeting a fiery, independent black woman in Laura Harrer (Patrice Dumas), Stallworth (John David Washington) found himself looking for a reason to continue this job, like that of an investigation into the local chapter of the Ku Klux Klan. He goes as far as to attain an over-the-phone relationship with David Duke (Topher Grace), who was able to spell out his fair share of idiocracies. A lengthy, in-depth investigation that invoked a two-partner system in which Stallworth (John David Washington) would be the undercover agent on the phone, while his white partner, Flip Zimmerman (Adam Driver), would represent the combined duo in person, eventually helping to expose and nullify an attack on black activists. 

It’s the kind of story that seems like something out of a Chappelle show, but it was real. Conjuring the attention of producer Jordan Peele who then passed the story onto fellow filmmaker Spike Lee who then recruited a team of mild-mannered individuals to put together one of 2018’s most outrageously fantastic films. It’s not Lee’s first dance with the term greatness either. This is more of a return to form than it is a debut performance, unlike that of John David Washington who, in his first feature film leading role, steals the show. 

He’s both charming and charismatically invigorating, becoming an enthusiastically refreshing entree into the conversation for best performance by a male actor. He’s the heart of this film, but Lee is the brains behind the operation. Providing an attentive and meticulous level of craftsmanship that reminds us that he’s not only one of the best working today, but hasn’t been allowed to stretch these muscles in quite some time. The blatant outcry towards absurdity is as prevalent as ever as he provides more than a few middle fingers to D.W. Griffith's alleged “masterpiece,” “Birth of a Nation,” a film that revived the Ku Klux Klan at the turn of the 20th century, sparking a new fire that remains unextinguished. 

The film maintains that fiery assertion for honesty, as Lee tears down the naiveness of an America that allowed someone with inherent similarities to David Duke to land themselves in the Oval Office. He doesn’t let up from there either, opening the film with an impassioned and horrifically disgusting monologue from Dr. Beauregard (Alec Baldwin). Who espouses racist vitriol in a way that, while horrendous, is hilarious as his tics and tantrums slip up through his desired perfection as if the white supremacy he believes is faltering underneath the spotlight as the red, white, and blue lights glow upon his face. 

At one point the projector displaying itself upon him manifests an image of a klan’s hood, a quick preview of the brilliance that would follow from Lee and cinematographer Chayse Irvin.  As they then introduced the dashingly handsome John David Washington, gingerly enwrapping him with a delicate touch of adoration, as he arrives in front of the banner for hire at the Colorado Springs Police Department. The haven and origination of our plot, in which the first phone call with the local chapter president, Walter (Ryan Eggold), took place. Stallworth (John David Washington) spouts off how anyone without white-pure-American blood gets under his skin, a laugh out loud sort of scenario as the surrounding officer slowly turn towards this insane situation.

Turns out though, Stallworth (John David Washington) mistakingly used his real name, leading to the involvement of Flip Zimmerman (Adam Driver) who happens to be Jewish, becoming a character of fascination for myself. He’s a representation of an underlier of truth that always seems to go unseen in depictions of this terrorist group, how they are not only targeting black communities, but Jewish ideologies, homosexuality, atheism, or any other kind of belief that stands to oppose theirs. A long forgotten dose of truth that a genius like Lee can unearth to remind us that we can’t pretend that we don’t all have skin in this game. 

We have the luxury of being able to dodge the hatred flung towards us, ready to hide away our internal conflicts and pass along as a white American. He not only excavates that unspoken truth of America, but Lee unveils the internal strife that black Americans face in what it means to be black in America, a state of mind that screenwriter and geekdom correspondent Marc Bernardin described as a “constant state of rage.” 

He’s not wrong either, when you find yourself on that ever so prominent cutting board of American coercion, like being a bi-sexual man, for example, you begin to feel a slight whiff of that internal strife that the black community has been systematically confronting for centuries. It’s the kind of subtextual message that will go over your head if you let it, and that’s kind of what Lee is achieving with “BlacKkKlansman,” a parody of reminiscence. Jokingly and passionately criticizing our integrated view as Americans to see these real-life events as acts of the past, as if we’re some college kid looking back on our high school selves saying “wow, I used to be dumb.” 

Lee doesn’t allow us to pull that ever-so-familiar trick out of the bag, wrapping the final moments of the film with a narrative and authentic echo of American hypocrisy. Ending the film’s story with a representation of how small victories are immediately met with heavy defeats, like a real-world enactment that occurred after the grand achievement of Barack Obama, being followed by the horrific rise of white supremacy that crescendoed into an act of domestic terrorism in Charlottesville. Reminding us of Heather Heyer, whose life was lost on that tragic day, tributing her with a frozen silhouette of her tribute memorial in Charlottesville, writing “Rest in Power” underneath her life's timestamp. 

We are not-so-far removed from our history, and we are already repeating it. The question is, did we ever stop? It’s an inquiry suggested by Lee I believe, with the current political climate and sociological tensions between races, did we ever conquer what we thought to be an act of old dumb white men? It's these kinds of challenges that Lee provokes from the audience that forces you to judge your mindset and outlooks, internally. It's what makes “BlacKkKlansman” one of the best of the year. A satirically, crude, sombering, hilarious, triumphic tragedy of a film that is one of Lee’s best in years. He’s a master of the craft, and if you didn’t know that already, you will now. This is a Spike Lee Joint. 

The Spy Who Dumped Me (2018)

   Director: Susanna Fogel  With: Mila Kunis, Kate McKinnon, Justin Theroux, Sam Heughan, Gillian Anderson, Ivanna Sakhno, Fred Melamed, Jane Curtin, & Paul Reiser.  Release: Aug 3, 2018 R. 1 hr. 57 min. 

Director: Susanna Fogel
With: Mila Kunis, Kate McKinnon, Justin Theroux, Sam Heughan, Gillian Anderson, Ivanna Sakhno, Fred Melamed, Jane Curtin, & Paul Reiser. 
Release: Aug 3, 2018
R. 1 hr. 57 min. 

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The pairing of Mila Kunis and Kate Mckinnon sounds like a slam dunk pairing, add in some relatively decent action pieces and an R rating, and you may have a box office juggernaut on your hand. The hands of Susanna Fogel (“Chasing Life”) and co-writer David Iserson let that potential slip through their hands with an overblown, overly compensated, and overdramatic narrative that seemingly mistakes this organically pairing of stars for something of a “Mission Impossible” meets “Rush Hour” kind of comedy. 

It’s a misfire, one of the biggest of 2018 due to the inherent potential to be found in the makeup of this movie. The storyline goes as follows, two lifelong best friends, the eccentric Morgan (Kate Mckinnon) and the uncommittable Audrey (Mila Kunis), find themselves at a bar celebrating Audrey’s (Mila Kunis) birthday. Simultaneously, Audrey (Mila Kunis) recently broke up with her dreamy boy toy, Drew’s (Justin Theroux), who turns out, is a secret agent for the United States government, a character trait that is revealed to us through this elongated action sequence. 

After a night out in which they threatened to burn his things, Audrey (Mila Kunis) finds herself captivated by a dashingly handsome man, who also turns out to be a spy known as Sebastian (Sam Heughan). He along with his partner, Duffer (Hasan Minhaj), reveal Drew’s (Justin Theroux) identity to her, who later finds himself at their apartment in which he is killed, leaving a mission for this inexperienced and enigmatic duo to take a trophy, which is carrying a flash drive with some integrally significant information, to Vienna, Austria in Europe. They decide to go for it and find themselves apart of this twisting and turning journey in which each of them fend off highly trained operatives with the dumbest of luck. 

It’s your stereotypical “two people in over their heads” plot in which these two women are left with nothing but their wit and knowledgeable information from television, media, and relative awareness that allow them to become the unsung heroes of the world. We’ve seen this story before, yes, but with the talent at hand and with a female director, I was honestly expecting a sleeper hit. Not one of 2018’s best, but something exciting, thrilling, and, most importantly, funny. 

“The Spy Who Dumped Me” is not a knockout comedy, but it has its funny moments. There’s a whole bunch of familiar Kate Mckinnon political punchlines that are authentically hilarious. Each of them carrying a dose of truth with each witty twist, and Mila Kunis has her fair share of time in the spotlight, delivering a handful of timely jokes about her partner in crime and herself. They share some sensationally palpable chemistry, each of them feeling as if they’ve known each other for more than a few months, both on-screen and behind the camera. 

Those funny scenes are also assisted with a fair share of well-executed action sequences, one of which is somewhat inventive. It involves Kate Mckinnon and this Russian, gymnastic, model, spy, hitman, vengeful, sleeper, killer person depicted by Ivanna Sakhno. She wears a lot of hats, but these two find themselves at odds in the midst of a Cirque du Soleil performance at a high praised ambassadors party in which “the drop” is taking place. (yes that cliche is there too) 

Anywho, they find themselves on sparring trapeze platforms leading to a gymnastic-heavy brawl that confuses the audience as an act in the performance and allows the viewer to become enthralled by an action sequence that is remarkably ingenious, if only I cared about anyone involved. 

These women are great, but for the entirety of this overlong film, I saw Kate Mckinnon and Mila Kunis, their characters are relatively absent from the story. I needed an IMDB page to remember their names, and that’s not a good sign if you're trying to make “fun” characters. The handling of the women is where the female behind the camera comes into fruition though, never do these women feel unprepared or incomparable of achieving the mission in front of them. They are reliable and somewhat brilliant at times, never in a way that feels overdramatic, rather believable actually. Where the film begins to become overblown is with the spy versus spy mumbo jumbo that is merely ridiculous, even for a comedy format. 

It’s like if “Mission: Impossible” decided to give up on relatively clever storytelling and replace twists and turns with predictions and expectations. Marginally inspired by Melissa Mccarthy's “Spy” in that way, “The Spy Who Dumped Me” is unable to replicate that same ingenuity because of its lack of attention to the plot surrounding the comedy. Seemingly using it as an excuse to be lazy, as if the story will not assist in the comedy, because we never gave a crap about Del or Neal in “Planes, Trains and Automobiles” right?

Nonetheless, Mckinnon and Kunis can only do so much to carry this film to the finish line which is two miles too long. It’s a two hour and twelve-minute film that feels as if should’ve been a one hour and fifteen-minute movie, at most. It’s not precisely Susanna Fogel’s framing of the film, more of the page not matching the surprisingly spectacular action provided from Fogel’s direction. 

It all amount to a similar feeling from 2017’s “The Hitman’s Bodyguard,” this time there is more laugh out loud moments, but with a plot that feels even lazier than that movie, and that’s saying something.  

Christopher Robin (2018)

   Director: Marc Forster  With: Ewan McGregor, Hayley Atwell, Bronte Carmichael,  Mark Gatiss, Jim Cummings,  Brad Garrett, Nick Mohammed, Peter Capaldi, Sophie Okonedo, Sara Sheen, & Toby Jones.  Release: Aug 3, 2018 PG. 1 hr. 43 min. 

Director: Marc Forster
With: Ewan McGregor, Hayley Atwell, Bronte Carmichael,  Mark Gatiss, Jim Cummings,  Brad Garrett, Nick Mohammed, Peter Capaldi, Sophie Okonedo, Sara Sheen, & Toby Jones. 
Release: Aug 3, 2018
PG. 1 hr. 43 min. 

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The Disney renaissance of the Disney renaissance continues to color itself to fruition, building upon creations from the past as we can expect a “Fantasia” remake any day now. Marc Foster’s “Christopher Robin” is the newest reinvention, a film honoring both the adults and children perspectives in the audience, carrying a familiar and gently warm-hearted touch that manifests an enjoyable theatrical experience. The rendition of A.A Milne’s classic character doesn’t arrive too the silver screen without its fair amount of criticisms though, from the “childhood nostalgia makes for a better adult” cliche to the evolution of the core programming behind the characters purpose. You'll find a film that is reminiscent of your time Hundred acre-wood, but not entirely the same experience you remember having. 

The tale is Disneyfied, simplifying itself around the character of Christopher Robin (Ewan Mcgregor) who finds himself as an adult now, with adult responsibilities. He’s a funds manager for a luggage company, tasked with discovering loops and holes in the paperwork and numbers of the finances so that he can lower costs while maintaining everyone’s employment with the company. The stress of that kind of occupation can become overwhelming, and it does as we see Christopher (Ewan Mcgregor) begin to carry out the same tiresome cliche of a man obsessed with work far more than he appreciates the ones who love him. 

Attempting to send his child, Madeleine (Bronte Carmichael) off to boarding school, and unable to carve out time for a weekend trip with his lovely wife, Evelyn (Hayley Atwell). He finds himself in desperate need of a reminder in what it is to enjoy life, luckily his silly old bear of a friend has found himself in a bit of a pickle as well. The entire gang as seemingly vanished, perhaps a "Hepahlump" has finally attacked hundred acre wood. In a wild time of need, the lifelong friends are reunited once more to save both the gang in hundred acre wood and the misleading path that Christopher Robin (Ewan Mcgregor) finds himself traveling upon. 

All of this sound just a tad bit familiar, doesn’t it? And it is, it's a whole lot of familiar paths that you're walking down, seeing the same footprints left before you by other storytellers, all of that is fine and dandy though. “Christopher Robin” strongest moments are those points where the child inside of you whispers “I remember that.” It's those sequences of discovering hidden treasures within your memory that form that lump in your throat, or that sniffle in your nose, or those goosebumps down your spine where you find yourself reconnecting with that childhood mindset we all once had. 

The trips back into Hundred Acre wood is one filled with triumph and heartwarming tenure, one that if you're like me and have been absent for a good while, will leave you buried in a mountain of tears. Where those tears dry up is the moments of familiarity in the storytelling, the cliches of it all, the Disney stoplights in this nostalgic traffic jam. 

Those scenes like the adult rediscovering his naive optimism once again, which Mcgregor does marvelously, all seem so empty of passion due to their lack of ingenuity. Not to mention the severe overreaction by his family, which seemingly berates him with workaholicism for merely trying to save people's livelihoods in a desperate time. The man isn’t addicted to his job. He’s addicted to being a good person, which makes the whole tale feel unnecessary as if it's all a mere figment of imagination scrounged up by a stressful mind in need of some appreciation. 

There is no comfort and admiration to be found at home though, his wife and daughter want all the attention or none of it which is a bit extreme. Leading to a carryover in which Winnie the Pooh (Jim Cummings), Tiger (Jim Cummings), Piglet (Nick Mohammed), and Eeyore (Brad Garrett) find themselves apart of the grungy streets of London, which is a bit of a precarious point where the storytelling starts picking apart it's source material. Seeing how these manifestations were meant to be just that, a representation of a boy’s imagination coming to life, not literally, but figuratively. Alex Ross Perry and the four fellow screenwriters decided to go and make these characters literal, which is a bit of spitting on the grave of A.A Milne. 

Dismantling the core detail of these characters which is perhaps the most significant drop off in cohesive quality made by Marc Foster, as the cinematography and VFX work is all as magical as the 2D animation, bringing to life the slight smirks and blissful wisdom of Winnie the Pooh (Jim Cummings). It can become a necessary experience for anyone looking to escape the misery of modern America, one that evokes emotional memoir of childhood. 

It’s been a long time since I’ve walked the beaten paths of a hundred acre wood, a long time indeed. Being back in the tall forest, crossing the Poohsticks bridge once more, and seeing the entirety of the community built by these beautiful characters was something of an endearingly enchanting ordeal. 

It’s not exactly the way I remember it, Disney moved a few stones here and few trees there, but by the end of “Christopher Robin,” I am counting the minutes that I have been gone. Finding myself searching through my long-forgotten stashes of adventures with Pooh, Piglet, Roo, Kanga, Eeyore, Tiger, Rabbit, and Owl. It makes me want to recount the days I spent in those woods, which is perhaps the biggest compliment I can give to “Christopher Robin.” 

Hot Summer Nights (2018)

   Director: Elijah Bynum  With: Timothée Chalamet, Alex Roe, Maika Monroe, Maia Mitchell, Emory Cohen, Thomas Jane, & William Fichtner.  Release: Jul 27, 2018 R. 1 hr. 33 min.

Director: Elijah Bynum
With: Timothée Chalamet, Alex Roe, Maika Monroe, Maia Mitchell, Emory Cohen, Thomas Jane, & William Fichtner. 
Release: Jul 27, 2018
R. 1 hr. 33 min.


Timothee Chalamet was my break out star of 2017. The young man oozed with charisma, sex-appeal, and charm. He was in a close-knit race for best performance by an actor for me, with that of Daniel Kaluuya providing stiff competition. Least to say, I was anticipating whatever he decided to do next, and Elijah Bynum’s “Hot Summer Nights” is not what I expected. 

This time around he’s depicting Daniel, a young boy from northern Massachusetts whose father has recently passed away, making his life troublesome for both him and his now widowed mother. He’s sent away to stay with his aunt on the Cape for the summer where this tourist-trap of a beach town becomes fruition. The local legends, the nicknames for the locals, the “townies,” and the “summer bird” tourists who ride around in their yachts, luxury cars, and cardigans wrapped around their collars. 

Daniel (Timothee Chalamet) is an in-between kind of guy, one who is both a “townie” and a “summer bird.” He befriends the town legend, Hunter (Alex Roe), who introduces him to marijuana. He discovers the magic of Mary Jane and urges Hunter (Alex Roe) to think bigger, which seemingly comes out of nowhere, and begins our well-designed, but empty experience. Though I can proudly say that Timothee does his best here, providing a performance that is far better than the movie deserves, he’s not precisely depicting a memorable character or a fresh one at that. He’s submerged by the lack of creativity behind the camera. 

Let me start by saying though, “Hot Summer Nights” is not a bad movie in the same sense of the “Truth or Dares” or the “Fifty Shades Freeds” of 2018. It’s a film that maintains a polished design, one that shines with saturation in a way that mimics the bright, sunshine arrays of the 1980’s, at least that’s how we choose to remember them. Those are the brilliant ideas that Bynum has, one of which is the arrival of the town folk-hero, Hunter Strawberry (Alex Roe). He’s dashingly handsome, wickedly cool, and has reputation filled with the stuff of small-town legend. He’s lusted over, emerges from a cherry-red muscle car in slo-mo, built up by town gossip. Carries himself with the grease-junkie aptitude of allure, slicked-back hair, and pure confidence embodied into one dude. 

This is where Bynum has something going for his film, prancing upon the absurdity of a town built heroes, ones that only the members of the small-knit communities are aware of, like that of Hunter Strawberry (Alex Roe). There are snippets of the rumor mill in action, with rapidly edited interviews with these townspeople who share their experiences. It’s a Tarantino/Scorsese kind of a stylization in which the kids are cursing, the township stories are ones of ludicrousness, and it all amounts to a shady past involving this fable killing a guy. 

It’s all apart of this study of townsmanship. Diving into the treatment of women which becomes crudely disturbing, the town, like any other, has their dime. In this case, we find McKayla (Maika Monroe), the town hottie with a reputation, the unattainable goddess of prepubescent boys, and the little sister to Mr. Strawberry (Alex Roe). A stunningly alluring treasure that Daniel (Timothee Chalamet) finds himself infatuated by, succumbed to her charms. The only problem is, she warns him about befriending her brother, and her brother forbids him of engaging with his sister, creating a triangle dilemma that is sure to explode, a tiresome rehashing aspect that drags the film down like weights are tied to its ankles. 

The film loses itself in those tropes of storytelling. The relationship dilemmas, the sudden drug-dealing dangers which seem to have no natural reason for occurring other than Daniel (Timothee Chalamet) needed to do it so that the film could have that cliche “two kids in over their heads." They all fly by to quickly to develop any sense of resonance, disappearing into the background and becoming as forgetful as the characters. Seemingly developed around a cliche of a cliche of an eighties movie, despite taking place in 1991. Few things can be called original in this happenstance of a movie that dissipates in quality throughout its ninety-minute runtime. 

Like that of McKayla (Maika Monroe) and Daniel’s (Timothee Chalamet) romance, which has moments in which they stare at the fireflies on a midnight date, or they visit the local carnival, all a while attempting to bring out that heart-aching small town romance of two young people’s first love. It’s buried underneath everything else going on, the drug deals, the “Wolf of Wall Street” meets “Footloose” narrative and the outright confusion of it all. Leaving the viewer unsure as to whether our story is amounting to a young boy’s fall from innocence, or a long-con of an examination on the small-town culture we used to paint as blissful beauty, but now see as antiquated.

You have the adequate performance from Alex Roe and the sex-heavy depiction from Maika Monroe, but it’s all a bunch of nonsense amounting to nothing more than a series of events honoring a time period the film doesn’t even take part in. It doesn’t seem familiar with the environment either, because in the midst of its genre storytelling is a Jupiter sized hurricane. One that seems to catch these “Cape townies” off-guard somehow, as if they’ve never prepared for such an event, despite living so close to the water. 

All the while, the story is narrated by a young boy who saw the last moments of these events take place from his bedroom window. He talks like a kid from “Sandlot,” expecting us to care about his plucky attitude and youthful maturity, seemingly constructed by the events surrounding his life. We meet him near the end of the film, establishing his reasoning for narrating the story like that of “Goodfellas.” It’s a whole bunch of empty traits amounting to a whole sum of a picture worth a thousand words, none of which can describe what “Hot Summer Nights” is actually about. 

It's a shame too, Bynum seems to have an eye for storytelling. He has moments where you can see the point to his craftsmanship lying idly behind the tropes of yesteryear, but it all becomes lackadaisically misguided. It becomes automated when we start diving into the drug dealing nature of this Miami-Vice beach-styled storytelling. I’m guessing Bynum was a big fan as a kid. 

Eighth Grade (2018)

   Director: Bo Burnham  With: Elsie Fisher, Josh Hamilton, Emily Robinson, Jake Ryan, Daniel Zolghadri, Fred Hechinger, Imani Lewis, Luke Prael, & Catherine Oliviere. Release: Jul 13, 2018 R. 1 hr. 33 min.

Director: Bo Burnham
With: Elsie Fisher, Josh Hamilton, Emily Robinson, Jake Ryan, Daniel Zolghadri, Fred Hechinger, Imani Lewis, Luke Prael, & Catherine Oliviere.
Release: Jul 13, 2018
R. 1 hr. 33 min.


“Eighth Grade” is the type of film that you see and enjoy for what it is, its an experiential tour through the trials and tribulations of a teenage girl. The plot isn’t exactly the anchoring gate that allows you into this movie’s grasp. Nothing happens in this week-long span of a narrative. It’s not about a young woman confronting anything. Instead, we are given a small glimpse of her life, her daily routines, her hopes and dreams, and more. 

The film opens with a low-quality view of her Youtube channel, “Kayla’s Korner,” which is where we see the sheer accuracy and authenticity that writer/director Bo Burnham depicts with assured excellence. The ability to allow for Elsie Fisher to sound like a 13-year old girl, dealing with social anxieties, struggling to find her identity in the midst of the judgemental and treacherous world of middle school. He knows how middle schooler talks, allowing her to stumble upon her words. She tries to sound older, discussing hefty subjects on her channel like "Being yourself" and "Putting Yourself Out There," constantly reverting to the vernacular she’s more acquainted with, struggling to carry her message passed the repetitional use of filler words such as “uh” and “like.” 

She doesn’t have a handle on adult communication, struggling to express herself in a way that sounds coherent and identifiable. She’s always getting on to her father in those moments, where she finds herself embarrassed by her sweetheart of a dad (Josh Hamilton). Screaming at him to stop being weird, unsure of exactly what that means, she corrects herself with stumbling cringiness, which is perhaps the best way to describe Bo Burnham’s filmatic observance of an eighth grader’s life, a blissful, cringeworthy, flashback of a story. 

He doesn’t accomplish this feat on his own doing though, Elsie Fisher is someone who’s experiencing these moments in reality, as a 13-year-old actress who is amazingly in touch with the life being depicted on screen because she’s experiencing these junctures behind the camera as well. It’s the type of performance where she can be herself, as her character anxiously describes in one of the film’s opening Youtube videos. She’s a character experiencing the struggles of a social media massive generation in real time, which is where Burnham attempts to add an underlier of social currency to his simple tale. 

Speaking upon the differences between a generation that grew up with social media usage and another that didn’t gain access to this landscape of social interaction until they were in high school. Burnham explores these things with minimal runtime wasted, like that of a sequence in which Enya’s “Orinoco Flow” performs in the background while Kayla (Elisa Fisher) endlessly scrolls through the unlimited data of Instagram and Twitter. Losing track of both time and the world going on around her, as if she’s keeping herself up all night to find the one secret that will make her feel like herself again. 

She uses makeup advice, painting heavy eyeliner on her face and airbrushing her acne away, trying to bury herself behind what her fellow students would call “cool.” A common phrase used throughout this movie, as if she’s trying to be apart of the inside group that somehow found that golden key that no one else can find, that secret access to a sense of confidence and self-embracement that makes them seem “cool,” at least that’s what Kayla (Elsie Fisher) sees. 

She also sees the beginning trials of sexuality, where she finds herself hopelessly charmed by a boy in her grade, attempting to gain his approval by bragging about her “blowjob” ability, despite never participating in such an intimate experience. She goes home to learn what that means, searching through youtube videos, discovering a harsh truth that echoes with crude empathetic humor, the kind of joke where you want to look away because of the quivering goosebumps that ride down your spine, but you can’t help but relate to the quirky events occurring on-screen. 

This is a genre of comedy that Burnham dominates, both in his stand-up act and as a writer who masterfully uses his voice to tell a unique story about something he, himself, has never experienced. It’s a rare moment where a man discussing the troublesome coming of age stories that women confront is welcomed. He can make it feel unique to his voice, blending social beliefs with that of a teenage perspective that Elsi brings with blissful certainty. He includes darker tones that whisper the trials of womanhood, like that of an older boy playing a game of truth and dare with her, a game that reminds us of her naive youth. How she doesn’t understand what she’s suddenly become involved with, unable to see through the smirks and flirts made by this boy, but instinctively knowing that something is wrong. 

These moments are stops and bumps in the film that feel a bit out of the left field due to their sheer ineffectiveness in the story. They don’t exactly carry her to the place where she ends up arriving, there things that could be replaced by something else without us having to witness something so promiscuously jarring. It’s hard to watch those scenes, troublesome reminder of the legitimate dangers of the world girls like Kayla (Elsie Fisher) are growing up around, but the mismatch of a wincingly amusing journey down memory lane and socially conscious reminder feel jumbled. Bo had a few messages to get across. I get that. I just wish they blended with the scenery better.

That scenery is produced with ease though, providing this sleek and naturally captivated cinematography from new-comer Andrew Wehde. The camera's best movements are the intimate perspectives, ones that surround Kayla (Elsie Fisher) in her most personal scenes. Her pacing in the morning, her nervous ticks, and her sheer relatability are captured in those junctures, the moments where you begin to fall in love with Elisa Fisher. 

It’s like “Lady Bird” in that way, a story that is far more about meeting and greeting the character than the tale they’re embarked upon, it's a character study in its purest form, one that Burnham does with veteran-like ability. Grounding the film to reality, providing an atmosphere of real middle schoolers, not 16-year-olds pretending to be younger, but 13-year-olds carrying out their lives on camera. 

He chooses an age of adolescence that we seemingly forget about throughout cinematic history, high schoolers have been studied with endless diatribes of the hardships of leaving for college, saying goodbye to life-long friends, and confronting adulthood. Middle school isn’t the same battle, you have one foot in the sandbox and another in the realm of adulthood, swelling with hormonal urges, self-discovery, and constant irritability. 

Burnham knows this. He realizes that middle school sucks, he understands the inherent emotional engagement of eighth grade. We all have to go through this stage, we all looked dumb, we all had moments that made us seem cringy, and Bo assures us that we weren’t alone in that troublesome stage. Realizing that we made it through, that it didn’t last forever. “Eighth Grade” is an empathetic ride that we’ve all been a part of, one that speaks as loudly to us as it does to the eighth grader we once were. 

Sorry to Bother You (2018)

   Director: Boots Riley  With: Lakeith Stanfield, Armie Hammer, Tessa Thompson, Donald Glover, Terry Crews, Jermaine Flower, Steven Yeun, David Cross, Omari Hardwick, & W. Kamau Bell. Release: Jul 6, 2018 R. 1 hr. 45 min.

Director: Boots Riley
With: Lakeith Stanfield, Armie Hammer, Tessa Thompson, Donald Glover, Terry Crews, Jermaine Flower, Steven Yeun, David Cross, Omari Hardwick, & W. Kamau Bell.
Release: Jul 6, 2018
R. 1 hr. 45 min.


Satirical filmmaking has been condensed into forums of ignorance driven comedy. It is very rarely something speaking with a bright and outrageous voice. Boots Riley’s “Sorry to Bother You” is something that shakes up the genre in a way that doesn’t match audience expectations. Instead, remaining in the vein of the witty and hilarious Terry Gilliam while also staying rugged like a 60's Goddard film. It’s a movie that puts the laughter back in satire and fearlessly dissects the intricate socio-political subjects of corporate animosity, identity politics, and our American instinct to look the other way when chaos and turmoil erupt from the city streets. 

Boots Riley recognizes that cultural dilemma and manifests a world where literal corporate slavery goes under the radar, and a show that averages 150 million viewers is about watching people getting beaten up. Clearly, a mirage based reality, "Sorry to Bother You" is reflecting the insanity of a world that we dub as normal. 

It’s like walking into a mirror world that is reflecting the society we take part in fabricating. Shedding the blinders placed on ourselves by our fear of facing an unsolvable problem, never slowing down for those refusing to jump on the funky bandwagon, and speeding up for those who think they can keep up with Riley’s wit. 

It grounds itself around the character of Cassius Green (Lakeith Stanfield), a young black man suffering from a lack of money. He lives out of the garage of his uncle house, who is barely surviving his economic grievances as well, behind is rent for more than four months. With the self-imposed pressure of wanting to make his life memorable and the added stress of paying back his family for their sacrifices, Cassius (Lakeith Stanfield) gets a job as a telemarketer at RegalView. 

He’s sold a bill of goods by the management, told of the prestigious land of power callers where the best marketers find themselves selling big money for big people. Struggling to get one of these useless brown encyclopedias sold through a sequence of practically constructed scenes, a colleague advises him to use a “white-voice.” It’s not that Will Smith white as he jokes, it's the one that sounds absent of stress and confident that life is working out for him, a subtle in-take on the inherent trust given to white people based on stereotypical beliefs,

That’s just a little jab thrown from “Sorry to Bother You,” as we learn that power callers are responsible for selling things they shouldn’t, and Cassius (Lakeith Stanfield) doesn’t apologize for being successful at that either, gaining the attention of the maniacally charming Steve Life (Armie Hammer). He soon has the unjustifiable world revealed to him through a story that goes from earth-based satire to the stratosphere of insanity. 

It’s subversive and surreal take that doesn’t sway you with heavy messages; it jabs you with loaded jokes meant to make you laugh and to make you think, though both sides don’t always balance each other out. It can become far too serious of a subject to feel comfortable laugh at, and sometimes it's so blatantly funny that the point behind the joke may go over your head. 

Walking a tightrope with his humor, Boots Riley writes a narrative based on that instability. Writing his story as if he’s scooching alongside the edge of a tall building, peeking down at the den of failure, trying anything he can to save his film from disaster, and throws everything at this film. Including the kitchen sink and the rest of the house, never apologizing for it either. Including any and every idea possible to make this movie work. It can become bat-shit crazy to watch this movie as the third act dives from brilliant satire to intricately designed horror/sci-fi, and it’s a lot to take in. 

Sometimes it says too much, shouting it's messages at you instead of calmly stating them. Touching on the idea of selling our souls for greed, allowing capitalistic greed to strip away our humanity from us, quite literally. The film doesn’t tear apart a visual style though; cinematographer Doug Emmett works closely with Boots Riley by delivering a sleek, colorful, and practical look to a film that never shies away from speaking openly about tough subjects. Riley doesn’t hold back in that way even dubbing the “white-voice” with comedian David Cross. Recognizing satires are about creating a superficial and surreal world that seems insane at first glance, but continuously unfolds into rational thought the more and more you consider to dissect its makeup. 

In the third act, it goes way too far for my taste, confusing metaphorical artistry as an excuse to throw something so ridiculous into the screenplay. Does it have a reason for its existence? Sure, but one that doesn’t warrant it's stay. Riley has that first film anxiety of including any and every idea that he thinks will make this film memorable, probably involving too much and never crossing out ideas that should have never made it to the final draft. 

Nonetheless, the film does not act on its own accord of Riley’s brilliance, but rather a surrounding team of exceptional talent. Providing a potential launching pad for Lakeith Stanfield who does his best work to date, embracing the lunacy of it all with a performance that is matched by the rigorousness of Armie Hammer who strolls around his mansion in a muumuu. There’s an outstanding surrounding cast of Tessa Thompson, Donald Glover, Terry Crews, Jermaine Flower, Steven Yeun, Omari Hardwick, and even stand-up comedian W. Kamau Bell makes an appearance in this outrageous funhouse mirror of a movie. 

It goes way too far in some areas, yes, but I can give it a nod for that. Never shying away from a challenge, going all-in instead of playing it safe and boring. “Sorry to Bother You” is a provocative comedy that has a bright light shining upon it from the endless raves of critics, a spotlight that won’t be matched by audience approval I expect. I can’t blame them either; it's a large and grand formulation of a man shouting the importance of complex social dilemmas with inventive but bizarre methods. 

Some have compared Riley’s debut to Peele’s first feature film, “Get Out.” While they share the same inventiveness, Peele was able to deliver that necessary finesse to a film with such wacky storytelling, allowing his messages to hit with more acception due to that dose of believability. Riley does the opposite, on purpose I think. Choosing to go crazy for crazy sakes, being unashamed to be brash and original. If there is any “right way” to describe this film, it's just that, original. 

The Legacy of a Whitetail Deer Hunter (2018)

   Director: Jody Hill  With: Josh Brolin, Danny McBride, Montana Jordan, Scoot McNairy, & Carrie Coon. Release: Jul 6, 2018 TV-14. 1 hr. 23 min.

Director: Jody Hill
With: Josh Brolin, Danny McBride, Montana Jordan, Scoot McNairy, & Carrie Coon.
Release: Jul 6, 2018
TV-14. 1 hr. 23 min.


Jody Hill is a filmmaker that seems to have a multitude of common exercises within that of his storytelling, making movies and TV shows about men and their egos blinding their sight. Continually foreshadowing their demise, being a visible signifier of their blight for self-destruction. Ignoring the world around them, choosing to see them as mislead or ignorant for not wishing to match with their ideologies. It’s something you see a lot of as a southern born kid, that old-fashioned mentality is something of a sickness around these parts. 

Hill exemplifies this with a southern-rooted, hunter focused film like “The Legacy of a Whitetail Deer.” His first film since "Observe," Hill centers a narrative around a father and a son, separated by divorce, at least that’s what the father believes. Buck Ferguson (Josh Brolin) is that father, an infamous TV celebrity, at least on the small, low-brow, hunting channel. He’s a celebrity in the same vein that Ted Nugent is a rockstar, technically a true statement, but one that holds little water when in comparison to someone who actually exhumes those identities. 

Nonetheless, “The Legacy of a Whitetail Deer” opens with a snippet of highlights from this enigmatic character and his “hit show” “Buck Fever.” He’s someone that pretends to be a tough guy, a great hunter, a master tracker when in all reality he’s far more mediocre than he believes. Forgetting that his identity isn’t manifested by his passion, neglecting others around him, ignoring the effects that his actions have on those surrounding him. 

This is what our story centralizes; when we met Jaden (Montana Jordan), it begins to fall apart from the dream-like weekend the father had hoped for, becoming evident that his son doesn’t share the same identity as his dad. He’s a loud-mouth, southern accented, and eccentric kid, who has a vlog, plays guitar and takes parkour lessons. Held back a grade, he continuously feels as if he’s dumber than everyone else. Unable to do anything right because he’s too stupid to figure out what the right thing to do is, something his father seems to be oblivious to. Unable to live up to his dad’s expectations, Jaden (Montana Jordan) begins to feel like this trip is a waste of time, spouting out information that hurts his father more than he realizes. Explaining how he calls his new step-father “dad,” or how his mother (Carrie Coon) and Greg (Scott McNairy) are thinking about getting married. 

He’s twelve, right at that age where dad’s start to fear they're losing their children to time, primarily when they are split from the mother. Hunting is what gives Buck (Josh Brolin) identity, and fatherhood suffers because of that, and when he expectedly attempts to force his passion onto his son, it's refuted. No son wants to be like his father, at least not at that age. We seek self-identity, self-recognition, and seeing our fathers controlling every dynamic of our lives is where we begin to drift, later it’s all a bunch of laughs, but until then it can be difficult. It’s a part of life that we all have to endure, as sons and fathers alike, but Hill almost seems to forget that at times. 

He chooses to focus more on the irony of hunting, never making clear whether he’s making fun of it, or bragging about its life lessons. John Carcieri and Danny McBride get writing credits as well, working alongside Hill in a way that fails to exemplify what his story is trying to say. Confusing itself between a comedy driven drama and a dramatically driven comedy, “The Legacy of a Whitetail Deer” struggles to do what the father of its story does as well, blinding itself from the real message by focusing far more on the hunting than the men holding the guns. 

Brolin gets it though, providing a performance that is as charming as it is funny. He manifests a character that feels so magnificently different from his past endeavors, but still seeming as if no one other than Brolin was right for the part. It’s been the summer of Brolin with his role as Thanos in “Avengers: Infinity War,” Cable in “Deadpool 2,” and Matt Graver in “Sicario: Day of the Soldado.” He’s been exemplary this year, his performance as the Mad Titan is my favorite, but I can’t help but find a charismatic resonance in this depiction of a confused father whose idiocracy matches his pride, a recipe for disaster as he learns later on. 

With a father as confused as his son, nothing is learned, but rather hashed out by the screenwriter. A message about a father inability to accept his son, and that the man Buck (Josh Brolin) wants to be is not the man his son needs him to be. It’s a good message, one clouded by satisfying technical craftsmanship and muttered screenwriting that falls flat and never begins to become more than an unempathetic, confusing, and belittling story about a man’s incompetence to be more than a hunter. 

At 82 minutes, the film feels thick and lengthy because of its unfocused view. Hill suffers to make this story more than a simple tale with little heart, the trees crowd his sight, never being able to see beyond them. The performances surrounding Brolin are unable to match his, either feeling overdramatic in that Montana Jordan whose southern accent begins to wear thin, or a bit wrongfully written like that of Danny McBride who makes a few too many inappropriate jokes. Even making one that at least the boy is caring about the female's anatomy instead of a mans, I guess that’s the same mentality anyone else from that same upbringing would have. 

It all feels so familiar to me, the insensitivity to others, the obliviousness to family, the unconscious behavior to differing ideologies. I deal with it today, probably will tomorrow, it's a common occurrence around these parts, one that seems to argue Hill’s point in these men’s blindness to reality. At least that part of Hill’s writing makes sense. 

Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018)

   Director: Peyton Reed  With: Paul Rudd, Evangeline Lilly, Michael Douglas, Michael Peña, Walton Goggins, Bobby Cannavale, Laurence Fishburne, Michelle Pfeiffer, Judy Greer, Tip. “T.I.” Harris, David Dastmalchian, Hannah John-Kamen, Abby Ryder Forston, & Randall Park.  Release: Jul 6, 2018 PG-13. 1 hr. 58 min. 

Director: Peyton Reed
With: Paul Rudd, Evangeline Lilly, Michael Douglas, Michael Peña, Walton Goggins, Bobby Cannavale, Laurence Fishburne, Michelle Pfeiffer, Judy Greer, Tip. “T.I.” Harris, David Dastmalchian, Hannah John-Kamen, Abby Ryder Forston, & Randall Park. 
Release: Jul 6, 2018
PG-13. 1 hr. 58 min. 


“Ant-Man and the Wasp” is that kind of chapter in the Marvel cinematic universe that buckles underneath the excellence of the previous entree, it’s like reading a great book that has a fantastic chapter followed up by one that is fun, satisfying, but not near as superb as the one you just read. 

Once again directed by Peyton Reed, “Ant-Man and the Wasp” is a film that feels a bit mediocre in more ways than one, but not in a bad way. The film, written by a team of five writers, takes place about two years removed from the events of the Russo Brothers’ “Captain America: Civil War.” Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) made a plea deal to take part in a two year sentenced house arrest, followed up by three years of probation, and he’s nearing his last three days of sentencing until he finds himself having nightmares from his time in the subatomic realm, but these dreams feel too real. 

He reaches out to Hank Pym (Michael Douglas) to explain this to him, hours later, he is kidnapped by Hope (Evangeline Lilly), because this father and daughter duo have been building a machine to take them to the quantum realm, believing that Janet (Michelle Pfeiffer; Hank’s wife and Hope’s mom) may still be alive. 

It’s a simple mission that needs the assistance of Scott’s (Paul Rudd) hypothetical quantum entanglement with her from the quantum realm, but their plan’s soon get foiled by this white hooded and fissuring figure known as Ghost (Hannah John-Kamen). She’s a woman who’s suffered the sins of Hank’s (Michael Douglas) past, being a product of a father’s failed experiment that has led to her becoming a molecularly faltered woman that continuously glitches between matter, making her someone that can walk through any wall and avoid any attack. This condition also leaves her in constant pain though, forcing her to reach out for help, something that also comes from Hank’s (Michael Douglas) past mistakes. 

You would think the film would build an emotional lesson around that, but instead, the story revolves around a multitude of amusing subplots and a sappy-ish emotional heft between Scott (Paul Rudd) and his daughter, Cassie (Abby Ryder Fortson). It picks up off that father-daughter dynamic we saw in “Ant-Man,” something we don’t see in any of the other Marvel movies, and begins to zero in on the flawed heroism of Scott Lang (Paul Rudd). Dealing with this revolving door of consequences for his actions, tearing him between the two worlds of fatherhood and vigilantism. 

He never seems to be able to the right thing without alienating his family or his friends or the woman he wants to partner with on these adventures as Ant-Man. He’s continuously reminded of these shortcomings, staying out of trouble to keep his daughter in his life, but exiling his past life and friends in exchange. It’s a complex moral dilemma, one that we rarely see in film’s apart of the MCU, but the film almost seems to overlook the enticeable potential of the emotion surrounding this internal character dynamic, choosing to satisfy audiences without providing something worth remembering. 

The film does subvert the macho-man mentality of superhero movies though, allowing the teamwork between these two heroes to become a reliable weapon. Never allowing that one-person show cliche to take hold, the "Ant-Man and the Wasp" are a team that relies on teamwork, something surprisingly rare to see in comic book filmography, almost as unusual as the amount of significance giving to the Wasp (Evangeline Lilly).

Spending a lot of time developing, focusing, and centralizing the story and the action around Hope (Evangeline Lilly). Reed exhumes as much creative choreography he can from the wings of the Wasp, disappearing and reappearing with fury and a whole lot of female badassery. We rarely get to see these displays of female super-strength, with them sporadically occurring in films like "Iron Man 2" and "Avengers." Luckily, "Thor; Ragnarok" and "Black Panther" have embraced that female empowerment, carrying it over into newer films such as this one. 

She almost steals the show with her displays of action, but the gang of assisting comedic characters makes that a hard role to earn, as the group of three ex-cons, has founded their own security company, ironically trademarked as “X-Con.” These neurotic characters share a fair amount of screenplay, providing as much comedic relief as they can, not that the screenplay is dourly in need of more humor. Nonetheless, the security team of Kurt (David Dastmalchian), Dave (T.I.), and Luis (Michael Peña) provide the films funniest moments with Peña being responsible for more than the other two goofballs, as predicted. 

The gang of characters surrounding our triplet of heroes doesn't stop there, you can also find the well-meaning ex-wife Maggie (Judy Greer), the affable husband Paxton (Bobby Cannavale), the adorably innocent Cassie (Abby Ryder Fortson), a smug weapons dealer with a wicked southern accent depicted by Walton Goggins, of course, and there’s also the clueless FBI agent, Woo (Randall Park), who is amusingly jealous of the charisma displayed by Scott (Paul Rudd). All of these characters assist in formulating a group of subplots that struggle to reside together coherently, but they never become something distracting or worth denouncing, more of a run of the mill kind of scenario. 

The same could be said for Dante Spinotti’s cinematographer which, unlike the previous film, seems to have no individuality. Never standing out or making its voice heard, instead, it blends into the foreground, becoming reliant on well-handled set pieces and a vast amount of size gags, which seem to always get a chuckle or two out of me. 

Reed has a lot of great moments in his direction of the film, specifically in his helming of the movies emotional subtext, something that if focused more upon, could have made the film far better than your above mediocre superhero film. It relies on that relief of enjoyment you desire after seeing a mature and darkened MCU film such as "Avengers: Infinity War." “Ant-Man and the Wasp” struggles with that bad timing more than it should. Not to mention, a complete lack of emotional heft that, like “Thor: Ragnarok,” is set up to be paid off near the film’s finale, but these moments are shrunk down to size before they become the big hero that the movie so desperately needs. 

If you consider the MCU as a long-running, feature-length, television series that premieres at the movie theater, then you can think of “Ant-Man and the Wasp” as that follow up episode to the mid-season finale. Attempting to pull everyone back into the story, calming the waters so that you can return to your regularly scheduled programming until the Mad Titan makes his next appearance. There’s nothing obscene or egregiously wrong with “Ant-Man and the Wasp,” it’s following up a cinematic event of epic portions, providing a small but effective entree into this cinematic universe of superheroes, it's hard to blame the underdog for not outperforming the favorite. 

Set It Up (2018)

   Director: Claire Scanlon  With: Zoey Deutch, Glen Powell, Lucy Liu, Taye Diggs, Pete Davidson, Meredith Hagner, Jon Rudnitsky, & Tituss Burgess.  Release: Jun 15, 2018 TV-14. 1 hr. 45 min.

Director: Claire Scanlon
With: Zoey Deutch, Glen Powell, Lucy Liu, Taye Diggs, Pete Davidson, Meredith Hagner, Jon Rudnitsky, & Tituss Burgess. 
Release: Jun 15, 2018
TV-14. 1 hr. 45 min.


Romantic comedies are a hit and miss kind of genre, either they suffer from a multitude of cliches or they have such a unique voice that these films stand out with a fragrance of seamless rewatchability. Claire Scanlon’s “Set It Up” is a film that falls somewhere in the middle, but it definitely favors the latter. It’s a female written and directed film that seems to handle this genre with flair and charisma that seems to stray away from this genre. 

Taking place in the upper echelon of New York city, “Set It Up,” written by Katie Silberman, introduces us to the crappy job of assisting someone who holds the keys to your future, specifically two assistants. Harper (Zoey Deutch) who assists to a big-time sports journalist, Kirsten (Lucy Lou), and she’s an aspiring writer who spends her hours supporting and slaving away for this boss woman, while simultaneously forgetting actually to write something. 

Her co-star, Charlie (Glen Powell), is a helper for a big-time business mogul, Rick (Taye Diggs), and he wants to get that big promotion so he can afford those expensive seats that he usually saves for his boss. After a night in which these two aides struggle to agree on how to satisfy their bosses appetites, they come together and begin to share each other's struggles. Participating in this therapeutic exchange of the frustrations they feel for slaving away for two people who seem to care less whether they are happy or sad or anything other than on-time and quiet. 

They soon hatch up this plan to force these two to begin dating and getting it on, so that they can start to get a little time to themselves. Harper (Zoey Deutch) takes this time to try and kindle and mingle with other singles, and Charle (Glen Powell) decides to begin hanging out more with his model girlfriend, Suze (Joan Smalls). His gay roommate, depicted by SNL’s Pete Davidson, clearly sees this lack of self-confidence and identity that Charlie (Glen Powell) has, and it becomes a pivotal character arc for this man. 

Harper (Zoey Deutch) is in the same pickle of having that same lack of belief to become a writer, which as someone who shares that struggle of writer’s block, I get that anxiety of not feeling good enough. Continually stressing about re-writes and trying new writing styles so if someone looking to hire writers reads my work, they might decide to give me some money for it. 

These two people begin to discover the relationship their constructing is not as palpable as the one manifesting before them, and then the film provides those cliche lines for love and yadda yadda yadda. We’ve seen these tropes and plot structures before, and Katie Silberman seems to have forgotten this. She has provided a relative amount of nuance and unique voice to a film that soon turns into the stereotypical romantic comedy that we’ve seen more than a thousand times. I guess these things still have to be here so that we know that we’re watching a romantic comedy, but it also feels as if she’s sacrificing footing for a killing stroke in a way. 

Delivering a screenplay that still fits in the tight little check boxes of the genre, but also shares her voice. You can hear that tone of someone writing what they mean, from the standpoint of sharing what they believe. Painting a diverse cast that is usually predominantly white and straight like that of “The Proposal,” “The Devil Wears Prada,” “Forgetting Sarah Marshall,” “Love Actually,” and I could go on. 

“Set It Up” is not one of those films, introducing a proud gay character that provides the movies best jokes, and two bosses that are diverse as well. One of whom is an independent, strong, and confident woman and the other is a successful black man that stands in a position of power. It’s subliminally executed though, never noticing it until someone else points it out or until you begin to read someone else's review, like I did, before writing this one. Visually, Claire Scanlon’s direction doesn’t stand out in that area, rarely being more than a carry and film kind of situation. She does provide that upbeat, hipsterish, New York city style that delivers that authenticity that blends in with the realistically diverse depiction of a metropolitan area. 

The film doesn’t deliver much more than that though, a film that has a lot of surprising uses of foul language, gender influenced debates and a considerable amount of witty dialogue. The two stars share remarkable chemistry and provide some great banter between each other that feels palpable and believable. Seeing them interact with two diverse higher-ups such as a Chinese-American woman and an African American male, knowing they struggled for their earnings and opportunity, just as much as these two white assistants. 

It’s a film that paints a diverse picture, uses that picture to formulate a few subliminal socio-political comments, but never actually delivers anything worth mentioning. It’s a film that cuts off the crust of its bread, fearing to offend instead of standing their ground, Katie Silberman and Claire Scanlon provides a film that is surprisingly better than most but never takes that final step to make something worth taking notice. It’s like a teenager being afraid to speak up about something they know to be true; you just have to breathe and embrace the anxiety. 

We watch Harper (Zoey Deutch) deal with a similar problem; she's advised to write something awful to correct and tinker over to make it great, the same logic could be applied to the screenplay from Katie Silberman. You have to write that script that takes off a bit more than it can chew so that you can learn how to deliver your message properly. Silberman is almost there, but she needs to embrace that rebellious side that she displays so passionately in this authentically colored romcom. 

Uncle Drew (2018)

   Director: Charles Stone III  With: Kyrie Irving, Lil Rel Howery, Nick Kroll, Tiffany Haddish, Shaquille O'Neal, Chris Webber, Reggie Miller, Nate Robinson, Lisa Leslie, & Erica Ash. Release: Jun 29, 2018 PG-13. 1 hr. 44 min.

Director: Charles Stone III
With: Kyrie Irving, Lil Rel Howery, Nick Kroll, Tiffany Haddish, Shaquille O'Neal, Chris Webber, Reggie Miller, Nate Robinson, Lisa Leslie, & Erica Ash.
Release: Jun 29, 2018
PG-13. 1 hr. 44 min.


If you were to combine two films such as “Like Mike 2” and “The Longest Yard,” you would get “Uncle Drew.” The Pepsi commercial turned feature film is balling its way around theaters and doing so successfully, and it's getting its fair share of praises from critics and audiences alike. To be fair, critics are giving this film a pass based on its sheer innocence and family-friendly appeal and to their point, “Uncle Drew” is precisely that, a genuine comedy that is not meant to offend but to entertain. While I could sit back and give it a pass myself, there is far too much laziness and sappy attempts with its emotional aspects for me to just let it walk by unscathed. 

It’s a film that is dragging a ridiculous gimmick too far, what should’ve been a thirty-minute short film for TV, is a near two-hour feature-length comedy that includes car chases, old versus young basketball matchups, and a dance-off of course. It's meant to make little to no fuss, something for us to sit back and watch mindlessly. I am not such a film attendee though, that’s why when the story of Dax (Lil Rey Howery from “Get Out,” who also self references that film in this movie), an orphan whose love for the game of basketball carried him through life until he missed a game-winning shot in a big game, begins to be told by screenwriter Jay Longino, I roll my eyes. 

Not to mention, the on-going tale of the old Uncle Drew (Kyrie Irving) getting the band back together on this drama turned road trip movie. Trying to be Dax's (Lil Rey Howery) saving grace when he loses everything from money to his gold-digger of a girlfriend, getting the old team back together to play at the Rucker streetball tournament. Watching the shenanigans that follow is not exactly worth my while. 

It all feels so simple, so lazy, but what should expect from a movie starring basketball legends in old-man makeup? I suppose a shred of creativity, which does appear with Lil Rel Howery. Admittedly his funniest moments are in the blooper reel, but he does have a few great jokes to give us. As well as the inside basketball jokes made by our player, which gave me a grin or two. There is effort and talent to be found, but it's covered up by the wrinkles of laziness by director Charles Stone III (“Drumline” & “Mr. 3000).

He’s no stranger to these underdog overcoming the odds kind of sports tales, but his past displays are nothing worth beating his chest over. In some ways though, that lackadaisical mentality allows the film to roll in and out of thought, like an airball flying past the hope with little to no hope of actually scoring. 

The way he directs the film is tacky and expectedly mundane, and the way he directs his cast of talented athletes is no different, giving them little to no room for uniqueness. Other than Uncle Drew (Kyrie Irving) himself, this 5-man team of basketball icons is depicting the same goofiness we’ve seen from them before, especially Shaq. 

Tiffany Haddish, Lil Rey, and Nick Kroll feel handcuffed. LIke their not getting that improvisational green light to make something out of nothing, to make a surprisingly tasty cake out of a bland baking mix. Haddish feels as if she’s reprising her role from “Girls Trip,” being that obnoxious and crude jokester we’re all familiar with, and Lil Rey is best when he’s allowed to interlude those little snippets of self-referencing commentary.

 Making fun of the events, we’re watching on-screen as if he’s making fun of it for us. Irving has a few moments worth a chuckle or two, but he’s more of a moral compass than anything else. Attempting to deliver this so-so message of taking risks in life, using a hockey line, of all things, stating “you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” With his old age and all, I guess he forgot this was a basketball movie.

I guess I am going easy on this film by not trashing it, but it doesn’t necessarily do anything so offensive or obscene to warrant that kind of negativity. Sure, it’s not a good movie. Heck, I definitely would describe it as a bad movie, but it's more lazy than it is idiotic. Geriatric-ing its way through the story, just moving forward and not noticing the potential surrounding it. Old people are like that though, always denouncing the next generation, a grain of authenticity to be found in a film that dresses up professional athletes like bank robbers. 

Hearts Beat Loud (2018)

   Director: Brett Haley  With: Nick Offerman, Kiersey Clemons, Ted Danson, Sasha Lane, Blythe Danner, & Toni Collette. Release: Jun 8, 2018 PG-13. 1 hr. 37 min.

Director: Brett Haley
With: Nick Offerman, Kiersey Clemons, Ted Danson, Sasha Lane, Blythe Danner, & Toni Collette.
Release: Jun 8, 2018
PG-13. 1 hr. 37 min.


In the midst of watching Brett Haley’s (“The Hero” & “I’ll See You in My Dreams”) “Hearts Beat Loud,” I began to take note of the film’s modesty. It never introduces or takes a stance on some sort of social commentary or political discourse, which is remarkably refreshing. While I enjoy a filmmaker standing by his beliefs and embracing that controversial edge of social topics, it’s nice to see a movie that allows us to relax and enjoy a film that charms with pure charisma. 

It never stops to take a stance on anything, which is something it could’ve done with that of its star being in a same-sex relationship with a girl named Rose (Sasha Lane). The film could’ve stopped to defend that relationship, which wouldn’t have bothered me, obviously, but it would have been entirely unnecessary. The story doesn’t need that added bit of socio-political debate; in fact, it feels so natural to the story that it never feels as if it's being argued for, just merely occurring within our narrative. 

Written by Brett Haley and Marc Basch, “Hearts Beat Loud” focuses on a relationship between a father and daughter. Specifically, that much-awaited moment when the young one goes off to college and the dad has to learn how to live without her being home; the whole situation is even harder when discovering the mom passed away in a cyclist accident twelve years before our story occurs. 

Residing in the hipsterish village of Red Hook in Brooklyn, Frank (Nick Offerman) is a records shop owner, selling vinyl and chatting up music geekdom with customers. His daughter, Sam (Kiersey Clemons), is a pre-med student at a community college preparing to attend another round of pre-med at UCLA. 

The only problem is that she inherited that gene of singing from her mother, who met her father in a band. After one jamming session after a long hard day in which Frank (Nick Offerman) reveals to his landlord, Leslie (Toni Collette), that he’s going to close the shop, they kindle a fire that gives Frank (Nick Offerman) this feeling of a last chance at reigniting that immense pride of fatherhood. 

There is melancholy that hangs over it all, which becomes an idealist versus realist kind of scenario in which Frank (Nick Offerman) sees a young girl throwing away her talent for a reliable income. On the other hand, Sam (Kiersey Clemons) is afraid of ending up like her father, a dead-end shop owner who lives in the past. It’s something the film does quite differently than fellow uplifting musical rides like “Sing Street,” maintaining a level-head between something authentic and dreamlike storytelling. 

Brett Haley and Marc Basch excel in crafting that harmony of tension and upliftment, never allowing it to crush your feeling of elevation while never allowing you to believe in something implausible. Someone who says this best is the bartender Dave (Ted Danson), who states “We can’t always do what we love, so we have to love what we do.” 

He becomes a constant source of therapy for our father figure as well as providing some amusing stories about his times in Woodstock, and he describes the film’s narrative meaning with that poetic diatribe. Recognizing that dreams don’t always come true and we have to learn how to live without them. It’s not crushing, nor is it saddening per say. The film handles it in a way that inspires us to relook at life in a way that is far more optimistic than dour. 

Where the film gains a lot of steam that pushes it from good to great is its music. It has an indie-folk style that also has a lot of pop to it, providing a soundtrack that is so infectiously passionate. Forcing you to tap your toes while allowing the lyrics speak to your soul, it's that kind of music that we all listen to for some upliftment, and it delivers in that way. The film does have a few touching songs that echo the inherent emotion placed into this family dilemma, something that is sure to roll a tear or two from every eye in the theater. 

Aesthetically, Brett Haley and his cinematographer, Eric Lin, deliver a summerish atmosphere to the film. Providing a vivid and bright array of visuals that attract the eye, with yellows and greens radiating throughout the screen. The environment is very hipsterish, with flannels and coffee and retro style scenery that blends in with the story in an organic fashion. The camera itself moves freely, circling our artists when they begin to jam out, providing this momentum building essence that excited me with joy and vibrancy, something the film continued to do with ease. 

Both Offerman and Clemons deliver fantastic performances. Offerman (“Parks and Recreation” & “Hero”), returning for his second team up with Brett Haley, has always been the cuter and far more charismatic version of Tom Selleck for me, and he displays it again in “Hearts Beat Loud” with some adorably humorous moments with Kiersey Clemons (“Dope” & “Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising”). 

He also provides some of the film’s most passionate moments, moments that are only outdone by Kiersey Clemons who surprises with an exceptional performance. She gives these naturalistic moments that feel as if we’re watching Sam instead of Kiersey Clemons pretending to be Sam Fisher. If it weren't for her co-star Toni Collette’s phenomenal performance in “Hereditary,” she would be my front-runner for the best female performance of the year thus far. Collette also delivers a solid performance in this movie, as well as Ted Danson who is fun to see as always, and there’s also some fun scenes with Blythe Danner who depicts Frank’s (Nick Offerman) mother.

The story is one we’ve seen before, and one we’ll inevitably see again. The music is poppy, and purposefully catchy, but it all plays so organically that it provides a feeling that merely is infectiously joyous. During a scene in which Frank (Nick Offerman) is attempting to help bring Sam’s (Kiersey Clemons) debut song to life, he states: “This is a mood piece, it just has to have a feeling. This has a feeling.” The same could be said for “Hearts Beat Loud,” a mood piece that is contagiously exhilarating that elates as much as it inspires. It’s a feeling that I can’t get enough of, and one that I can’t wait to feel again. 

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (2018)

   Director: J.A. Bayona  With: Chris Pratt, Bryce Dallas Howard, Jeff Goldblum, Ted Levine, James Cromwell, Toby Jones, BD Wong, Rafe Spall, Daniella Pineda, Geraldine Chaplin, Kamil Lemieszewski, Justice Smith, & Peter Jason.  Release: Jun 22, 2018 PG-13. 2 hr. 8 min.

Director: J.A. Bayona
With: Chris Pratt, Bryce Dallas Howard, Jeff Goldblum, Ted Levine, James Cromwell, Toby Jones, BD Wong, Rafe Spall, Daniella Pineda, Geraldine Chaplin, Kamil Lemieszewski, Justice Smith, & Peter Jason. 
Release: Jun 22, 2018
PG-13. 2 hr. 8 min.


Monster movies are apart of the many subgenres of blockbuster moviemaking that seems to have been aborted by Hollywood. They used to be the surprisingly thrillingly and seemingly unageable stop-motion creature features of the 1930’s, films like that of Cooper and Schoedsack’s “King Kong” and Harry O. Hoyt’s “The Lost World.” They were crafted in good nature of manifesting something different and unseen, just like what Spielberg and Scott did in the latter half of 20th-century filmmaking. The stories either served the purpose of smart representation through genre storytelling, or they were so original that the flaws found in their narrative were camouflaged by the spectacle of watching a dinosaur come to life. 

Now, in 2018, “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” is the newest addition to the dying genre of monster movies that have been purged for the inherent commercial potential. Joining 2017’s “Kong: Skull Island” in which the film circulates around the actions of ignorantly designed characters and subplots that are purposefully designed to carry us to the next movie. It’s financial prosperity driven story, which hasn’t worked in the 120 plus years of filmmaking’s history, and J.A. Bayona’s “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” is a prime example of this second-rate notion. 

The story, written by Derek Connolly & Colin Trevorrow (director of the previous “Jurassic World), is absurdly designed. It’s a story that picks up a few months removed from the horrific events of “Jurassic World.” The company behind the park has been sued for damages and medical expenses, while someone with a butt load of money has sent a team of DNA retrieving pirates to grab some sample from the Indominus Rex. They discover the boned remains of that hybrid genetic monster, which makes no sense. Didn’t she get eaten by the Mosasaurus? Why would there be bones left? 

Nonetheless, they retrieve a bone from the dead monster, and things go wrongs, because of course they go wrong, and a Tyrannosaurus Rex attacks the man attempting to close the bay doors that keeps the Mosasaurus locked in its giant pool. Running for his life, he fails to close those doors, releasing that giant monster into the open sea, and from there we pick up in a court hearing where Ian Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum) is offering his sentiment on an animal rights issue that has been sparked from the events of the first film, as a dormant volcano has become active on the island, placing all of these de-extinct animals in danger of going extinct once again. Do they deserve to be saved? Should they be treated with the same rights as domestic animals?  

Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum) sees it as nature correcting the course that we screwed up. Stating how we, as humans, never seem to be ever to use the discoveries we make in a way that doesn’t create war, starvation, or force nature to create a course correction for our mistakes. It’s the only part of the screenplay that attempts to introduce themes that speak to a larger crowd than the one in my theater, asking questions that we can’t answer. Do we deserve access to genetic engineering? What is our role as the superior species on this planet? Shouldn’t we make the earth better with the innovations we’ve made? 

That wittiness dissipates, and we’re reconnected with Claire (Bryce Dallas Howard) whose apart of the animal protection campaign. She talks to senators and is attempting to help pass an act that is giving these dinosaurs sanctuary, but it all works to no avail. Congress sees these cataclysmic events as a natural course correction, as they should. MSNBC reports this with a fantastic with an amusing quote on the ticker that offers a jab at President Trump stating “President questions if dinosaurs ever existed.” 

An adept snippet that should’ve been more a part of the actual narrative, but we watch Claire (Bryce Dallas Howard) being offered to take part in a private rescue mission to move these dinosaurs to a different island, a mission funded by the Lockwood estate, one of the co-founders of the first park. She accepts, of course, and we watch her get the band back together, reaching out to Owen (Chris Pratt) whose building his cabin in the woods. The two split apart between these two movies, and find themselves reconnecting on their mission back to the island. We also get two new members to the crew with the techy and annoyingly panicky guy in Franklin (Justice Smith) and a feisty dino-medic named Zia (Daniella Pineda). 

They join together with a small militia led by Ted Levine who depicts the stereotypical greed filled mercenary who inevitably turns on our heroes when the volcano erupts, and the heroes are left to fend for themselves. Running from CGI rendered dangers as they barely survive in very illogical ways such as Chris Pratt surviving volcanic ash without a scratch to be found. Banding together to save these dinosaurs from the money leaching hands of a wealthy family divided between making more money and correcting mistakes of the past, our heroes are faced with the same stupidity of Trevorrow’s film in which these dinosaurs are placed into an auction for black market buyers to use for military purposes. 

Our auctioneer played by the incomparable Toby Jones, states how we’ve been weaponizing animals for century’s, didn’t we stop doing that for a reason though? Like the invention of cars, helicopters, tanks, and other advancements that helped in making travel far more comfortable for us, but let's use dinosaurs to ride into battle once again. With the help of the enigmatic granddaughter of the old man depicted with a shockingly remarkable performance from Isabella Sermon, our heroes band together to stop these events as Owen (Chris Pratt) transforms into our Indiana Jones-like hero who swashbuckles his way through armed guards. 

Ted Levine returns after all this goes down asking for his bonus, he finds himself face to face with the new genetic hybrid created by these people. The Indoraptor which has been engineered to follow the commands of a specific noise, a noise that seemingly gets forgot when this monster inevitably gets out in a dumbly written sequence in which this mercenary is attempting to collect the tooth of this creature to help fashion his dino-tooth necklace. 

From there, J.A. Bayona attempts to flex his Ridley Scott-like muscles by transitioning this film from a rescue mission gone awry to an unimaginative and tensionless cat and mouse game between this genetically designed creature and our heroes. It’s an Alien homage that fails, not because of Bayona and his cinematographer’s, Oscar Faura, strong stylistic efforts to make this film look far prettier than it deserves to be. It doesn’t work because the story has moved devastated slowly and in all this time has been unable to manifest any resonance for these characters or any more significant themes that the story adds up to. The fun to be had stems from an entire visual point of view in which Bayona provides some awesome T-Rex killing moments and some exquisitely crafted portraits of a film that doesn't use that beautiful imagery to its benefit. 

The visual effects team and production team deserve just as much praise as Bayona and his cinematographer, but Trevorrow and Connolly drop the ball entirely. Carrying a film with a moment to moment mentality that adds up to a film acting more as the intermission between the first film and the forthcoming third film that is slated for 2021, a finale film that seems to be setting up the idea of how will we cohabitate with these creatures? How will Pratt and Blue reconnect? What will happen with the genetic codes that have been sold off to terrorist groups and militia groups? All of those questions will be answered in three years, the questions answered in this film are lacking. There’s a lack of energy, a lack of spunk, and a desire for something more charismatic, despite having a star like Chris Pratt and a plot surrounding dinosaurs. 

It’s a film that knows your not going to enjoy it and knows that you’ll pay to see it anyway. It feeds off the bones of those great monster features I named above and replicates them to make another buck. It's what I described it as in that of money driven story; it’s an intermission snooze fest that has a visually satisfying touch from a cinematographer and a director that exhumes as much entertainment from his stars as he can. 

There are emotional snippets to be found like that of Brachiosaurus roaring it's final breath as our heroes helplessly watch from afar, a scene that stands out far more than anything in the second half of the film. I think that’s a clue as to what makes these monster features so good; it’s not spectacle, it’s emotion. Take note of this Trevorrow.   

Incredibles 2 (2018)

   Director: Brad Bird  With: Craig T. Nelson, Holly Hunter, Sarah Vowell, Huck Milner, Samuel L. Jackson, Bob Odenkirk, Catherine Keener, Brad Bird, Bill Wise, Isabella Rossellini, & Barry Bostwick.  Release: Jun 15, 2018 PG. 1 hr. 58 min. 

Director: Brad Bird
With: Craig T. Nelson, Holly Hunter, Sarah Vowell, Huck Milner, Samuel L. Jackson, Bob Odenkirk, Catherine Keener, Brad Bird, Bill Wise, Isabella Rossellini, & Barry Bostwick. 
Release: Jun 15, 2018
PG. 1 hr. 58 min. 


Pixar has always been about originality, minus the “Cars” franchise, but sequels have become a dime a dozen with 2016’s “Finding Dory” and the impending “Toy Story 4.” Now, fourteen years removed from the first film, Pixar has brought back the team of supers, but they don’t feel fourteen years older. We leave right where we left off with that same jazzy score and the sixties stylized heroes that speak with a societally focused message that is loud and received with ease. 

Written by Bird once again, it picks up where the first film left off, as I stated, with the underminer merging from the undergrounds of the city to launch an attack on the bank. These heroes jump into action though, not fearing the repercussions of breaking the law for enacting themselves into the scene. 

Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson) and Elastigirl (Holly Hunter) run in head first, leaving Jack Jack (Eli Fucile) to be watched by both Dash (Huck Milner) and Violet (Sarah Vowell). The two kids fight over babysitter duty while the adults attempt to stop the crazed mole of a man. He inevitably gets away though, and the mining vehicle turns into a vehicular weapon designated on destruction. 

But our heroes save the day, only to be held at gunpoint as their escorted to the police station and warned to stay out of the light. Their governmental ally, Krushauer (Phil LaMarr), attempts to do what he can before he retires, but politicians don't understand those who desire to do good. They just needed an excuse to keep these heroes dead for good it seems. Given two weeks stay at a local motel, these heroes have a brash spurt of dialogue about subjects such as governmental treatment, fair laws, and the societal effects of legislation. 

It’s all done without a beat missed though, an exceptional feat to consider from a kids movies about superheroes. Not to mention the spellbinding attention to detail from the visual team of Pixar, from the wrinkles in Bob’s (Craig T. Nelson) robe to the use of shadows and lighting to the strands of hair to be found in Elastigirl’s (Holly Hunter) hair. Pixar is always top notch with its animation, and this is just another feather to add in their cap. 

The heroes find themselves at rock bottom with Bob (Craig T. Nelson) and Helen (Holly Hunter) discussing who should take the brunt of the load this time around, seeing as Bob (Craig T. Nelson) worked at a miserable Insurance firm for twenty years. To their surprise, Frozone (Samuel L. Jackson) was approached by someone after the heroic events of the day, someone with a lot of money and an extreme passion for superheroes. 

Winston Deavor (Bob Odenkirk) is that man; he comes from a background that formulates him like that of a renaissance man. Aimed at bringing back the bright and bold past of heroism, Deavor (Bob Odenkirk) and his sister, Evelyn Deavor (Catherine Keener), are two kids who took their father’s business and personal ideals to manifest a fantastic opportunity for heroes to return to saving the day. He doesn’t choose the big and robust Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson) to lead the way though, Elastigirl (Holly Hunter) is their elected leader since her calamity costs seem to be the lowest. This comes to the surprise of Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson), attempting to cope with someone being chosen over him, and being happy for his wife at the same time. He’s internally conflicted in that way, but he decides to be brave and become the stay at home father while mom brings home the bacon. 

This is something that Brad Bird’s screenplay exemplifies with flying colors. He examines this constant fret of manhood under attack from women being the ones responsible for making money, something that has been examined before, but continuously seems to be abnormal for our society. It’s rare to see women in the front, especially when their husband casts a long shadow that they’ve been buried underneath continuously. Bird recognized that ideal in the first film, making Elastigirl (Holly Hunter) the calm and far more achievable hero of the pair, he carries that notion to new heights with the sequel. He takes her character to the point of legitimacy that examines that internal conflict that men seem to face, in which they seem to confuse the idea of leadership with an occupation. 

It takes Bob (Craig T. Nelson) a while before he makes this distinction, as well as the importance of it. He seemingly forgot how great it is to be a dad, and he faces far more extreme hardships than most fathers when he learns Jack Jack (Eli Fucile) has not one, but seventeen powers, and counting. He’s a character that seems to be more powerful than anyone and everyone as if he’s the Matt Malroy of the “Incredibles” universe. Luckily Edna Mole (Brad Bird) assists in fabricating something to make babysitting this omega level mutant-like child a bit smoother. 

This fatherhood challenge leads to some of the film’s most enchanting moments, like a conversation between Violett (Sarah Vowell) and Bob (Craig T. Nelson) in which he apologizes for his actions involving the boy she’s crushing on and admits how he wants to be a good father. With the look of a man that feels as if he’s failed at that role, his daughter reminds him of the love she has for him. It’s a heartwarming moment that evoked the most emotion from myself and the audience around me during my screening this morning. 

The emotion isn’t the only benefit of the screenplay; there is also some fantastic action and superhero fun to be had. With a villain known as Screenslaver, who hacks into anyone’s screen and hypnotizes them with a white and black circulating loop. Forcing people to forget how to fly helicopters and taking over broadcasters to get across his message, it's all so predictable though. From the get-go, you can spot out the villain behind the mask; it’s almost worth spoiling for just how obvious it seems to be. 

The narrative doesn’t rely on that action-packed story as much as it does it's emotional investigation of fatherhood though, the visuality of it all doesn’t hurt either, maintaining that sixtyish, bond-like, and Kirby comic book style that the original film excelled with. Bird designs the film to look so bracingly out of a Stan Lee/Jack Kirby comic book, as well as a Sean Connery style Bond film, but there's no womanizing to be had. The film treats all of its characters with a sheer amount of integrity and authenticity, not only with Elastigirl (Holly Hunter) but Violet (Sarah Vowell) and newcomers like Voyd (Sophia Bush) as well. 

Bird doesn’t treat the men wrongfully either; they stand in the spotlight just as much as the ladies. Working together to save the day, which is something that the “Incredibles” franchise continues to excel at. Displaying unity, bravery, and societal relevance at a cinematic rigorousness that deserves a trilogy or a tv show or whatever Pixar wants to do with it. 

I do have one recommendation though, keep Brad Bird at the helm of their story. He patiently waited to return to his toy box, a toy box he made famous 14 years ago. These are his toys though, allow him to choose who gets to play with them next. 

TAG (2018)

   Director: Jeff Tomsic  With: Ed Helms, Jon Hamm, Jeremy Renner, LilRel Howery, Annabelle Wallis, Jake Johnson, Isla Fisher, & Hannibal Buress. Release: Jun 15, 2018 R. 1 hr. 40 min.

Director: Jeff Tomsic
With: Ed Helms, Jon Hamm, Jeremy Renner, LilRel Howery, Annabelle Wallis, Jake Johnson, Isla Fisher, & Hannibal Buress.
Release: Jun 15, 2018
R. 1 hr. 40 min.

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Comedies are meant to be not only funny, but some of the best of these films have a heart to them. There like the little movies that could, they challenge these big boy films with witty humor and a little emotion to create that sense of resonance. Jeff Tomsic’s “Tag” exemplifies this notion, almost perfectly. The film follows a simple narrative, a group of adult men, who have been friends since childhood, gather around during May to play a game of “Tag.” It’s silly, but its core message isn’t something that is worth laughing at. 

Walking the line between embracing your childhood and moving on from it, “Tag” has a message that we all feel, but don’t get to wrap our head around completely. It gets lost in the transitions of this twisting narrative that takes competitivity to an outrageous extreme, especially when it comes to the one who remains tagless, Jerry (Jeremy Renner). He’s a guy who grew up to become someone of exceptional talent when it comes to this game, almost making it seem that he should have been involved with the military or something. Nonetheless, Jerry (Jeremy Renner) is one of the best parts of the film, both filmatically and narratively. 

His sequences of action in which the group attempts to conquer the impossible are narrated by himself. Providing a Sherlock Holmes-like design in which he predicts every moment for the audience. Breaking down his friend's movements and the psychological weaknesses that he exploits to his benefits. Narratively speaking, the character provides an amount of heart to the film for what he stands for as if he’s the last stitch of childhood. 

One that has played the game so well, and so competitively, that he finds himself symbolizing the one who has been absent the most from these men’s lives. Helms’ character discusses this when he talks about how the game is a way for them to stay apart of each other’s lives. Keeping them together, except for the man who seems to be untaggable. 

It becomes a game worth watching though, with some extreme sequences that lack believability entirely, which is where some film viewers will draw the line. I couldn't help but find this over the top essence of it all so humorously delighting though, it becomes both action-packed, while continuously being funny. Not only with discovering just how good Jerry (Jeremy Renner) is at this game but the little banter that seems filled with hopelessness and reliant optimism from his friends. Each of them has their successes in life, like Bob (Jon Hamm) whose CEO of a fortune 500 company.

At the beginning of the film, he’s being interviewed by a journalist from the Wall Street Journal. In the midst of this conversation about the integrity of his company, Hoagie (Ed Helms), whose disguised himself as a janitor by getting hired by the Bob’s (Jon Hamm) company, interrupts their discussion by obnoxiously cleaning the office. Loudly banging trash cans and erupting with noise, till finally Bob (Jon Hamm) politely asks him to leave, only to learn that his friend is “it.” The game begins from there on, and our journalist acts as our expositional vacuum in which we are fed the backstory through her. The secrets, the stories behind specific character interactions, and the constant feed of information from the shared childhoods of these men. 

It’s a wild story that is based on one from reality, broken down in an article by the Wall Street Journal in 2013. The exposition is on the nose, and the film takes it sequences to an illogical extreme, but that's what comedy is right? It’s making something relatively mundane feel extreme in a way that is clever and authentic, which is where “Tag” strides. The authenticity of a group of lifelong friends interacting with one another in a way that is believable. The performances assist in this no doubt, but Rob McKittrick and Mark Steilen’s screenplay manifests that naturalistic dialogue. It's not on par with something of a James Ivory, but it has a sense of earnestly that reminds me of his style. 

I wish I could discuss the style of the director, but comedies seem to be lacking in that department continuously. Few continuously stand out with their visual treatments or cinematic language, but every genre has inherent burdens to bear, I guess comedies is dull cinematography. If it wasn’t for the brash screenplay and unapologetic ridiculousness of it all, “Tag” may not have been at the receiving end of high praise from myself, but it all works. It’s funny, bold, and unexpectedly brilliant at times, it's a good comedy movie, something that seems to be in short supply these days. 

The Incredibles (2004)

   Director: Brad Bird With: Craig T. Nelson, Samuel L. Jackson, Holly Hunter, Jason Lee Dominique Louis, Eli Fucile, Maeve Andrews, Spencer Fox, & Sarah Vowell. Release: November 5, 2004 PG. 1 hr. 55 min. 

Director: Brad Bird
With: Craig T. Nelson, Samuel L. Jackson, Holly Hunter, Jason Lee
Dominique Louis, Eli Fucile, Maeve Andrews, Spencer Fox, & Sarah Vowell.
Release: November 5, 2004
PG. 1 hr. 55 min. 

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Pixar is a studio that always seems to do no wrong, and they always seem to remain ahead of the curve. Brad Bird’s “The Incredibles” is a prime example of that, a film that exemplifies a level of maturity and sincerity while exhuming the entertainment and sheer fun that a family of superheroes inherently possesses. So the film does no wrong, but it also showcases Pixar’s ability to stays ahead of the curve in that many think the sequel that will hit theaters in a matter of days is a movie that feeds of the recent sweeping movements of female prosperity in both film and society. 

That is not the case, Brad Bird’s screenplay is one that follows superheroes in the traditional 1950’s mold that Stan Lee and Jack Kirby made famous during the golden age of comics. These are heroes seemingly existing in the same time frame as the civil rights movements, and a time period that presets the women and peace movements of the 1970’s. It’s a film that parodies the age of heroism and patriotism coexisting with one another while supporting that notion in the most progressive of mannerisms. 

It focuses on one man, Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson). He’s the prime example of that kind of superhero; he’s brave, super strong, and dashingly handsome. The film opens with him, Elastigirl (Holly Hunter), and Frozone (Samuel L. Jackson) being interviewed on what it's like to be a superhero, being asked questions like: "do you reveal your secret identity to other heroes, or do you keep it secret?"  That kind of questioning that is meant to be more fun than anything else, as Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson) delivers the most charismatic interview of the rest, because he’s that guy, until one day he’s not. 

After he rescues a man attempting to commit suicide by catching him mid-air and spearing him through a building window, Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson) finds himself on the end of a hefty lawsuit. One that blames him for saving someone that didn’t want to be saved, whose rescuing attempt led to this man being broken physically. This act inspired many others to go after superheroes, blaming them for unlawful rescuing and inadvertent damages, costing the government millions, and sending every hero into the superhero relocation program. 

Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson), now going around as Bob, finds himself living in the suburbs, working at an insurance agency. He married fellow superhero Elastigirl/Helen (Holly Hunter) and had two superpowered children and a newborn: Dashiell (Spencer Fox) who can run fast, and Violet (Sarah Vowell) who can turn invisible and manifest force fields, and Jack-Jack (Eli Fucile) whose superpowers haven't revealed themselves just yet. They attempt to blend in with everyday citizens by going to school, showing up to work every day, and continually keeping their powers hidden away from the public.

Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson) is someone who feels the weight of that burden, emotionally. He’s a metaphorical representation of the dad who’s lost himself to boredom and unfulfillment; he misses the glory days of heroism. He does what he can here and there, teaching his clients the in’s and outs of insurance policies, providing them with every loophole possible. 

That’s not enough though, he and Frozone (Samuel L. Jackson) go out on Wednesday nights and listen to the police scanner to find somewhere to intervene, to relive the glory days and do some low-profile superhero work. Placing a lot of hardships on his wife, who stays at home and takes care of the kids. She’s continuously burdened with the responsibility of cleaning, cooking, and parenting more often than her husband. Everything seems to be a struggle to fit in until Bob (Craig T. Nelson) is brought back into the life by a woman named Mirage (Elizabeth Pena), who gives him a mission to stop a massive, self-thinking, and an impenetrable robot named Omnidroid 7. 

After this successful venture, Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson) finds himself with a gig that pays lots of money, forces him back into shape, and towards the life he once knew. All of this is unbeknownst to his wife though; she’s kept in the dark, fearing that her husband is having an affair. Bird’s screenplay sets up that family dynamic brilliantly, in which Violet (Sarah Vowell) is a girl struggling to be a superhero going through puberty. She wants to be normal, but how can you be ordinary when you can make your head disappear? Dash (Spencer Fox) wants to play sports but knows he could beat everyone without even trying, but he doesn’t care, he just wants to be apart of something.  

Which seems to be the core theme of these children’s admirations, they want to be apart of something. Someone who wanted that same thing as a kid was Syndrome (Jason Lee) who, as a boy, would follow around Mr.Incredible (Craig T. Nelson) attempting to become his sidekick, dubbing himself with the name “Incrediboy.” He just wanted to be apart of the club of heroes, but he wasn’t gifted with superpowers, and Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson) wanted nothing to do with him because he works alone. All of this comes to ahead when Helen (Holly Hunter) learns everything that has taken place, and Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson) finds himself tricked by this child turned supervillain. 

His past is no longer something he looks on with benevolence, but now with great regret, because he inadvertently fabricated a villain who has spent his life creating weapons and killing off every superhero. His plan? To bring superheroes back to their glory by fooling everyone into thinking he is one of them. He plans on accomplishing this by fighting off a robot that he constructed himself, and with no superheroes left to stop him, he’ll teach everyone that you don’t have to be super to be a hero. Everyone can be a superhero after that, making superheroes unnecessary. It’s a plan that you understand and get behind, and one that argues the core message of Bird’s screenplay. 

Exteriorly, “The Incredibles” is a satire of superhero comics. Underneath that, Bird is critiquing the reality of American uniformity, which back in 2004, was as prevalent as ever. He’s arguing against that notion that we’re all equally special, which as Dash says at one point “that just another way of saying no one is.” It’s arguing against a society that “celebrates mediocrity” as Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson) states. It’s not that no one’s unique, but some of us are more special than others, which shouldn’t spark a negative feeling, it should inspire us to try harder. 

Visually, he borrows much more from the Bond films of the sixties and the comic book panels of the fifties. There are secret entrances, giant robots, and flying jets that look like something out of a detective comics book panel. Everything has that touch of a time we’ve all seen before, and one that echoes with the vibrancy and energy of that time, a time where life was always on the brink of change it seems. The red matching suits are also something fun to watch as well and look a little tight to fit in to.  

They seem to be latex fabricated tights, created by their very own fashion designer, Edna Mode who’s voiced by Brad Bird himself. She lectures Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson) on why capes lead to accidents far more often than acts of heroism, and she hilariously inspires Helen (Holly Hunter) to find her husband later on in the movie. 

She’s that one essential character to make a Pixar movie feel right, like a Marvel movie with its levity. Alongside the talented ensemble, Bird brings these animated figures to life, whose animated texture has not aged near as badly as I would’ve thought. 

In the end, Helen (Holly Hunter) has to come to save her husband, even doing the whole hero thing better than he did, which wasn’t something done on accident I think. 

She was purposefully designed to say that women can do whatever the man can do, even saying at the beginning of the film when she’s asked if she’d ever considered settling down she responds: “Settle down, are you kidding? I'm at the top of my game! I'm right up there with the big dogs! Girls, come on. Leave the saving of the world to the men? I don't think so.” So, her saving the world alone, while the super strong man stays at home should be nothing surprising. She’s been wearing the pants in this family since the beginning. 

It shouldn’t be surprising to see a Pixar movie that does that, with films like “COCO,” “Inside Out,” and “Up” residing on their resume, it should come to no surprise that Pixar created a film that underlies societal relevance and forward thinking with the entertaining spectacle of superheroes, which was kind of ahead of the curve as well. It begs the question, did Pixar foresee the superhero golden age that we reside in today? If so, what will Pixar do next? How do they stay so far ahead of everyone else?

Ocean's 8 (2018)

   Director: Gary Ross  With: Sandra Bullock, Cate Blanchett, Anne Hathaway, Helena Bonham Carter, Mindy Kaling, Sarah Paulson, Awkwafina, Rihanna, Richard Armitage, & James Corden.  Release: Jun 8, 2018 PG-13. 1 hr. 50 min. 

Director: Gary Ross
With: Sandra Bullock, Cate Blanchett, Anne Hathaway, Helena Bonham Carter, Mindy Kaling, Sarah Paulson, Awkwafina, Rihanna, Richard Armitage, & James Corden. 
Release: Jun 8, 2018
PG-13. 1 hr. 50 min. 


In the midst of Gary Ross’s, not Steven Soderbergh's (though he was a producer), “Ocean’s 8” there is a scene in which our family made crook, Debby Ocean (Sandra Bullock), is browsing through possible additions to the crew with her confidant Lou (Cate Blanchett). Lou (Cate Blanchett) pulls up a headshot of a rather handsome fella, and Debby (Sandra Bullock) turns him down stating “A him gets noticed. A her gets ignored.” This scene is where I began to catch on to the con being fronted by “Ocean’s 8,” and it's one worth watching. 

The film sets itself as a sequel, instead of a reboot. Taking place years after the heyday of Danny Ocean (George Clooney) who has passed away, at least we assume he has, and his younger sister has seemed to have learned all of his best moves and made them even better. Opening with a scene that harkens back to “Ocean’s 11,” quite literally, in which our feminine lead crook is attempting to earn parole. She says she wants the simple life, that her days as a thief are done, she even gets choked up discussing how her brother’s legacy has not inspired her, but we all know that’s a crock a shit. She, in fact, is playing a con, something that seems to be as natural to her as breathing air. 

Why is she playing a con? To get out of prison right? I mean, obviously, but it's not that simple. Nothing is ever that simple with these movies though, as expected she’s been planning something big. A job that involves robbing the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but not the museum itself, but rather a particular item that is persuaded its way around the neck of the beautiful Daphne Kluger (Anne Hathaway). Known as the Toussaint, an infamous necklace painted with a French history that is fabricated with six pounds of diamonds and is valued at $150 million. With a crew of eight, that splits the prize at about $16.5 million each, a substantial enticement for anyone who needs anymore persuading beyond the challenge that lies ahead of them in this big, grand, con of the century. 

The money is great, but that doesn’t seem to be the only incentive because these women all seem to share that same appetite for thievery that Debby Ocean (Sandra Bullock) and her family seem to have inherited almost organically. Lou (Cate Blanchett) is an old friend who's been with Debby (Sandra Bullock) since the start; she also shares some of the same connections she does to the old Soderbergh crew of swindlers. Amita (Mindy Kaling) is someone who can fake the jewelry but also lives with her mother whose constant harassment can be quite an enticement to try and steal your way to something better. 

Constance (Awkwafina) and Nine Ball (Rihanna) are the two utility and necessary tools, one is that sleight of hand smuggler, and the other is the hacker. How they learned their trade or who they are beyond that is not very important to “Ocean’s 8,” as Rose Well (Helena Bonham Carter) and Tammy (Sarah Paulson) or any of the other members of the crew that aren’t Debby Ocean (Sandra Bullock) seem to be overlooked and treated as unimportant. It’s a glaring flaw in the middle of “Ocean’s 8” that showcases the lack of style or nuance presented by Gary Ross, who also assisted Olivia Milch in writing the screenplay. The cast feels consistently mishandled, which for a film that is meant to use the sly socio-political messages of feminism to be the little jabs underlying this brash but familiar story, this misuse of the cast seems to be something that directly refutes the notions presented. 

Sister-hood is supposed to be something of pride, and it's something that is never heavily focused upon. If you're reading closely though, you may have noticed that the film is called “Ocean’s 8,” and I have only named seven members of the crew. Well, the eighth member is a bit of a surprise, that’s all I’ll say for now, but it's one of the many surprises that is fantastic. It’s one of the great things that Gary Ross borrows from the past four films in that the wonders that the heist includes, or the hidden cameos and twists of the narrative can be predictable, yet still feel invigoratingly enjoyable.

 It’s almost like a mainstream horror movie in that way, in the sense that the film has twists that are predictable due to the expectational assumptions that are brought to a movie about stealing stuff. You know what’s coming next, but you still want to be a part of the ride, despite the predictability of it's best parts. It’s one of the aspects of “Ocean’s 8” that I was already signed up for, so, to no surprise, it was one of the many things that made me grin during my screening. 

The other things that made me grin were the powerhouse of performances brought to the table by this ridiculously talented ensemble of women. Anne Hathaway plays this ditzy girl in hiding, whose obvious sex appeal, and pretty but dumb persona lends to her performance being one that is multi-faceted. Both in the way she is directly trolling her critics and in how she keeps you guessing as to what her importance is to the screenplay. Is she just the butt of the joke, or is she apart of the fun? 

Sandra Bullock is magnificently charming and cunning. She has the dose of calmness and sternness that makes her seem as if she’s sleeping through her performance, but that’s the whole point of her character. This con isn’t her first, nor is it her last. She’s not going to have those rookie jitters; she’s a veteran and one of the best at what she does. Cate Blanchett shares remarkable chemistry with that facade of her character, continually dispensing her charisma all over the screen in a way that makes her feel like she’s giving far more to the role than the role is giving back to her. Rihanna and Awkwafina are the two comic reliefs of the group, something they excel at, and Sarah Paulson and Helena Bonham Carter are given roles that allow them to feel necessary, but never unique. 

Someone who feels completely underused is Mindy Kaling, she’s such a talented actress, and one that deserves some more opportunities because she leaves a lot of her fingerprints on this film, unlike Gary Ross. Not only is his screenplay rather dull in that of the meat of what makes this story tick, but the visual language presented is something of mundane quality as well. He’s continuously showcasing these wide shots of New York City as if we forgot where this film was taking place, and his edits feel more like he’s mimicking Soderbergh, instead of making this franchise his own. 

He plays second fiddle, not to these exceptional women, but to the man that made these films famous. At least the woman look incredible though, thanks to some impeccable costume design from Sarah Edwards who works alongside top designers such as Valentino and Naeem Khan, to name a few. She allows these women to embrace that feminine side of glitz and glamour, something that alongside the constant jabs of feminist pride, can become quite special to watch. 

It’s a long con, pulled off by both the cast and the filmmaker behind them. “Ocean’s 8” is presenting itself as a female-led reboot of a film, one that has no unique attachments, but in all reality, it's just that. It’s a female-led film that has a unique touch because of its womanhood, something that doesn’t get brought to light enough by the “man” behind the camera. If only this film had a director with a woman’s touch, I might not be describing this film as almost great. I guess that might be the great con of it all, a movie about women, with no woman behind the camera, such a shame. 

Zombieland (2009)

   Director: Ruben Fleischer With: Jesse Eisenberg, Woody Harrelson, Emma Stone, Abigail Breslin, Amber Heard, & Bill Murray.  Release: Oct 2, 2009 R. 1 hr. 28 min.     

Director: Ruben Fleischer
With: Jesse Eisenberg, Woody Harrelson, Emma Stone, Abigail Breslin, Amber Heard, & Bill Murray. 
Release: Oct 2, 2009
R. 1 hr. 28 min. 



Zombies are apart of a subgenre of horror that can be entirely predictable. The human focus, the virus spreading, the massive amounts of weaponry, and the overabundance of gore are all common expectations within any film that becomes apart of this flesh-eating genre. Ruben Fleischer’s “Zombieland” is no different, but like Edgar Wright’s “Shaun of the Dead,” “Zombieland” doesn’t exactly fit into the niche of the genre like you would expect. Instead, the film grasps the core essence of the genre and adds a humorous amount of normality with a young man being our narrator, as if this zombie-filled world is now something of comfort and expectation. With zombie kill of the week awards, rule lists, and makeup covered celebrities, everyone seems to have embraced this world that has been overtaken by the undead. 

Its an unusual perspective on the narrative of zombies right? Add in the facet of a narrator like Colombus (Jesse Eisenberg), a germaphobe, anxiety polluted, and little spit f*$k of a man. He’s the one who fills us in on how the world has gone to shit; the mad cow turned mad person disease that causes you to have a high fever, induced vomiting, and an extreme case of the munchies. He gives us advice on how to survive as well with a long list of rules, but four core guidelines give you the best chance of survival. 

Cardio, because the fat people were the first people to go when the world became a run for survival. Always double tap your attacker, because you don’t want to be that person who assumes you re-killed the undead flesh eater, only to learn that they’re now feasting on your corpse. Beware of bathrooms; zombies are not completely stupid; they know when your most vulnerable like in a bathroom with your pants down. And finally, always wear a seatbelt. You have enough things trying to kill you, so don’t be dumb and die because you got flung out of a car when attempting to escape from a group of cannibals. 

These are the four rules that Colombus (Jesse Eisenberg)  tells us to live by, but the list doesn’t stop there. It also includes guidelines such as limbering up, traveling light, and most importantly, don’t be a hero. These rules are challenged when Colombus (Jesse Eisenberg) runs into the ass-kicker known as Tallahassee (Woody Harrelson). (By the way, none of these names are real but are actually their destinations, because you can’t trust anyone anymore, so their names remain hidden) He’s a man that lost the only thing that kept him sane and now spends his life enjoying the little things and finding happiness by killing as much of these flesh-eating assholes as he can. He’s a gun loving, banjo playing, and hedge clipping killing machine that not only inspires Columbus (Jesse Eisenberg) but teaches him along the way. 

Columbus (Jesse Eisenberg) has some lessons to teach Tallahassee (Woody Harrelson) as well though, meeting Wichita (Emma Stone) and Little Rock (Abigail Breslin). Two girls who even before “Zombieland,” have spent their time bamboozling guys with their looks and with emotions. Tricking both Columbus (Jesse Eisenberg), the man desperate for companionship, and Tallahassee (Woody Harrelson), the man desperate for a family, Wichita (Emma Stone) and Little Rock (Abigail Breslin) play these guys with ease, and take all of their weapons as well as Tallahassee’s (Woody Harrelson) Cadillac. From there, our story gets jolted into this exciting, slick, and fun-filled ride. 

That’s not to say that genius screenwriters Rhett Reese & Paul Wernick don’t include the expected emotional struggles that would arrive with a world filled with zombies. Each character has their struggles, like Wichita (Emma Stone) just trying to allow her little sister to feel like a kid again, or Columbus (Jesse Eisenberg) just wanting to be that nice guy turned hero for one lucky girl. There is plenty of emotion included in the screenplay, but never enough that it overshadows our witty comedy, which is the genius of Rhett Reese & Paul Wernick’s work in “Zombieland.” 

Ruben Fleischer provides a lense to the story, which is not his shining point as the director of “Zombieland.” The way he directs these actors is where Fleischer stands out, his ability to give these stars a sense of correlating direction. Driving Jesse Eisenberg to use that quirkiness he's known for to formulate a character that only he could depict, and giving Woody Harrelson this self-proclaimed badass who's actually a man trying to run away from his past. Add in the brilliance of a kid stuck in “Zombieland” in that of Abigail Breslin, and a big sister like Emma Stone trying to let her little sister feel like a kid once more, and you'll find a cast deserving of a sequel. This is where comedy directors shine, rarely is it the visual language that evokes the brilliance of a comedic filmmaker, but the way he’s able to direct his actors is where the best of em’ stand out. 

Ruben Fleischer displays that ability with “Zombieland,” a film that reminds us of our own ability to adapt. When things go wrong, even as wrong as zombies eating their way to our extinction, we continue to find a way to live with it all. Whether it's traveling to theme parks, invading celebrities million dollar homes, finding ways to make killing fun, or even making up a bunch of rules to keep us feeling safe. We can find a new home, a new family, and a new way of life. It’s one of our best qualities as human beings and one that “Zombieland” weaponizes into this comedic awesomeness of a zombie movie.