Annie H.

‘Batman: Caped Crusader’ carries the spirit of ‘Batman The Animated Series’, but doesn’t quite capture its heart.

I was really looking forward to this show, and after finishing watching all 10 episodes of the first season, it has ended up being a bit of an interesting mixed bag for me. I really wish the promos and the marketing had done a better job at communicating that ‘Caped Crusader’ is a complete reimagining of most characters, apart from Batman, instead of focusing on the character of Penguin alone, because that would certainly help someone knowing what to expect going in. The show is not so much the spiritual successor of ‘Batman TAS’ but more of a completely new thing, taking place in a 1940s noir Gotham city, with most characters being given completely different backgrounds, origins, and motivations. And honestly, ‘Caped Crusader’ works better if you approach it not expecting to see the same characters as you know them from most of their comic book iterations.

The show definitely has more than a few positive elements: more diversity, characters being openly queer, Barbara and Jim Gordon being Black. Plus, it's a pleasant surprise to see diverse body shapes, especially among female characters in a Bruce Timm production. It was also nice seeing Renee Montoya and Barbara Gordon take so much center stage, even if Barbara isn’t Batgirl (yet?) in this version, and she is now a lawyer, she is still given a lot to do. Giving these two characters the spotlight is certainly one of the highlights of the show.

One has to respect that ‘Caped Crusader’ is very much doing its own thing, and taking a bold approach in reimagining some of the core elements of the Batman mythos. The show exists in its own 40s noir continuity, and makes a clear effort to reinvent most villains in a way that fits that narrative, with some legitimately interesting takes on the characters. Clayface and Harley Quinn specifically have some significant changes to them and their backgrounds. For Harley in particular, it’s interesting seeing her existing in this universe independently of the Joker, being motivated by something else completely. At the same time, not all changes work so well. This version of Selina Kyle, for example, which goes for the spoiled rich girl angle, is probably the most unlikeable depiction of the character I have ever seen. She mistreats her maid (and keeps her unpaid while she spoils herself and her cats), she lacks any sort of sympathetic personality traits, and she steals someone’s cat for no reason then abandons it on a rooftop to run from Batman. Generally, even her fondness of cats overall seems shallow and weird, rather than genuinely affectionate.

The show also pretty much goes for a version of the Batman who is in his early crime-fighting stages, and goes out of its way to highlight that he still has a lot of anger issues and he has not found his heart and his empathy just yet. Which is not a new approach, but the more human and vulnerable version of Bruce/Batman that Kevin Conroy so excellently portrayed is undeniably a more layered and intriguing depiction of the character. There’s only so much a story can do with a monotone, brooding Batman. Hamish Linklater and the rest of the cast all deliver some great performances as their respective characters, but not every character feels as deep and nuanced as the ones in the original Batman TAS. It’s the reason why both Barbara Gordon and Renee Montoya shine in the show, because they are the characters acting as the heart of the story against a one-sided, often unempathetic Bruce.

Perhaps my biggest gripe with the show is the way it changes Bruce’s relationship with Alfred, in order to highlight his coldness and how closed up he still is. I just cannot get behind a Bruce Wayne who calls Alfred “Pennyworth” instead of using his first name, in the same way a superior officer would address a subordinate, and is mostly impersonal and even abrasive towards him, no matter what plot point this eventually serves. It just taints the very specific fatherly bond between the two characters, removing something that should have been there from the start. The relationship between Bruce and Alfred works better when Alfred is established as the catalyst who has helped Bruce keep hold of his human, kind side because he was the one being there for him during the worst events of his life. Any other dynamic just doesn't have the same impact.

‘Deadpool & Wolverine’ is everything you’d expect from a Deadpool film, plus one bit superhero satire and one bit genuine love letter to all the Marvel comic book films that preceded the MCU and helped pave the way, even those projects that never actually came to be. The movie is basically a salad of nods to the original comic book material, tongue-in-cheek jokes, 4th wall breaks, and character cameos, that somehow mixes surprisingly well and delivers a perfectly enjoyable result.

It’s clear that both thought and effort went into securing those character cameos, and it’s impressive how they managed to keep them secret before the film’s release. As expected, for its biggest part, the film doesn’t take itself too seriously, which allows the movie to get away with quite a few things. After all, you can’t complain that a plot device is a MacGuffin if the film calls it a MacGuffin first. All in all, the majority of the jokes land, the chemistry between Hugh Jackman and Ryan Reynolds undeniably works and carries the plot, and when things do get serious it still manages to deliver a solid story.

Despite the film never pulling any punches when it comes to calling out the shortcomings of some of the more recent MCU projects, it’s pretty clear that it holds only love for its source material, the characters, and the creators that brought them to life. Something that becomes evident by all the nods, references, and credits it features.

I don’t think that the question whether or not it will “save the MCU” is fair for any Marvel project, because no film or show can guarantee what comes next beyond telling its own story. And above all else, ‘Deadpool and Wolverine’ is a Deadpool film. It’s violent, it pokes fun at itself, it’s often nonsensical and irreverent. It also has its serious and genuinely touching moments, but it can’t, it won’t, and it never set out to deliver the epicness and emotionally impactful story of ‘Avengers: Endgame', and if you go into the film expecting that, then that’s on you (though I would suggest that you may want to give the recent X-Men ’97 cartoon a chance, in order to satisfy that itch).

It may or may not be Marvel Jesus, but it definitely delivers some solid fun.

X-Men '97 stuck the landing and then some, and that feels like an understatement. "Tolerance is Extinction Part 3" was unbelievably good. What a way to wrap up a season, and what a way to revive a show! Every character got their moment to shine, every detail and plot point served a purpose. The show managed to bring back a cartoon from 30 years ago, update it, modernise it, make it relevant to younger audiences and current social issues, while also maintaining its heart intact in a way that immediately feels familiar to everyone who's grown up with it.

In a way, it feels that the show has grown and matured along with its original audience. Now tackling more serious issues, not holding back on the commentary, exploring trauma, grief, the anger caused by injustice, and remaining true to the X-Men's history as an allegory for the prejudice experienced by marginalised groups, while also understanding how crucial the 'found family' theme that defines the bond that holds those characters together is.

Every nod and Easter egg comes from a place of loving and respecting those stories and the artists and creators who over the years shaped those characters. All episodes were filled with references that comic book fans would recognise, but not once did it feel gimmicky or cheap. The season finale perfectly wrapped the main storyline, but also opened the way for what comes next, and season 2 cannot possibly arrive fast enough.

Poor Things is very pretty, I’ll give it that much. Colors pop, and the watercolor, blurry sky and the scaling but condensed environments of Lisbon and Alexandria both convey the miasma of Bella’s mind quite well. How the background blurs in our young memories and how we remember all the buildings and places that looked large over us but so rarely the walks to them. Those work for me. So much of the rest of the film doesn’t.

I see what it’s going for- it’s hard not to. A journey of womanhood through the conceit of a child’s brain in a woman’s body, when women are treated as children and property to begin with. But it’s so fucking weird, with that conceit, to devote so much time to sex. Sex is an important part of being human for many people, I’m not denying that. But the attention it gets here throughout compared to brief, paltry scenes of Bella reading, seeking knowledge, having an interest in medical science and surgery is disproportional. Especially when the film wants to play her coming home and following in Godwin’s footstep as a culmination of her journey when it’s a facet of the film that barely gets any play in comparison. Angelica Jade Bastien, whose Variety review you should all read, brings up how in a film ostensibly about a cis woman and her relationship with her body menstruation does not come up once. It’s so telling where the film’s true focus lies.

And yes, sex can be beautiful, and conversely so can sex scenes. But the ones here are done dispassionately yet voyueristically. There’s no interiority, no sensuality, no sense of emotion and character felt through them. Compared to films like The Handmaiden they are sterile in heart if not content. It’s a big swing to go from black and white to color, and I can see sex being the impetus for it, sure, but when it’s done like this I don’t buy it. It’s interesting to me that her first time having sex is portrayed like this, with penetration until the man comes, thrice over, and yet her first time with cunnilingus is off screen. I feel like all the sex in this film is similarly narrow and lifeless.

None of what this film is trying to say is new, but much of it is muddled. It wants to rail against the entitlement of men, how they see women as property, how they want them to be exciting and adventurous but only in service of them. And yet it gives Max no grief at all for falling in love with. A child. Literal child, this is not a metaphor, it’s a child’s brain. And marrying her but refusing to have sex with her until marriage because that would be taking advantage, as if marriage would not be taking advantage and has not been used as the ultimate control. On some level the film condemns this, but only in the opposite direction, as part of Emily leaving Max is her frustration over not having sex. It’s baffling that the film seems to take the viewpoint that we ought to let children consent to sex with adults, that it is part of their development and journey to personhood. The film is similarly forgiving to Godwin, who used a woman’s body in a way she would very likely not have consented to all while the film extols a woman’s choice and ownership of her body.

Everything the film has to say about the nature of man and people, about women’s place in society, about sex work, etc, is rote. Nothing here is new, and nothing is heightened by the core conceit. It’s so surface level. And the cast is game enough. Dafoe is Dafoe and that’s always a good time, but I wouldn’t call this one of his greatest roles. Carmichael, much as I love his standup, just is not working here. Stone and Ruffalo are acting for the back seats, and while that has its moments of charm, it’s too much for most of the runtime. And Stone is just. She’s playing into ableist stereotypes for so much of this performance. The film drops the r slur and we’re just gonna pretend that Stone isn’t doing an insulting caricature at the same time? I don’t even want to delve into all the questions raised by the mental disability angle, others could do that better than me, but it’s another level of thoughtlessness and surface level depth.

The score is similarly cloying and overbearing. It insists on a scene rather than being a part of it. It doesn’t enhance it or complement it, it beats you over the head with how the scene is meant to make you feel. I could enjoy the sound of it in isolation, but as a score it’s distracting more than anything else. It’s a bit surprising to me how much this film has been praised as outside of the production design, I don’t see it. I just don’t. For me, this is as much a misfire as Barbie, if not more. Poor things.

I'm disappointed. The movie looks and sounds beautiful - the costumes and the world both are very intricate. I enjoy the language that is used, how the dialogues are written and I especially love the concept of the movie. It's not something new, plenty of books cover basically the same idea of a "clean" human, who grew up without societies influence, discovering the world. Nontheless, I was intrigued. Sadly since Bella is a woman, clearly the only way for her to explore the world is through having sex with men, because how else. And that could have been fine, talking about sex and sexuality is important, but this movie just uses it as a way to make jokes and show her tits. It is shown as something great and liberating, even when grown man assault her as a child or when she works at a brothel. Besides this weird portrayal of sex, there is not much substance. A few buzz words are thrown around like socialism, worker unions etc., but the writers were happy with just mentioning this stuff. Even when talking about prostitution, the commentary is restricted to "what if the prostitues would choose who they have sex with" - what a great, elaborate thought. This shows just how little thought went into the writing. Overall there is nothing worthwhile to be found here - at best you will get an ignorant commentary about topics they clearly have never engaged with.