If you’d ask me what the highlights of the previous 2 Ant-Man movies are, I’d probably answer: I don’t remember much about them, but I liked those quirky scenes narrated by Michael Peña and the creative use of shrinking powers during the set pieces. For as forgettable as both movies are, at least I still remember the set piece with the train in the first movie, or the kitchen fight from the second movie. With this movie, I'm already having trouble remembering any specifics, because all of those typical Edgar Wright touches have been erased in favor of being a big CGI extravaganza. So, allow me to do a general breakdown of the three acts instead.
1st act: We get a set-up that's similar to Spiderman: No Way Home, which means it’s in a hurry to get to the main dish, making every main character look like an irresponsible dumbass in the process. Once we get to the quantum realm, we're met with a lot of cringe comedy. The design of the world is fine, it feels like a mashup of prequel era Star Wars, Avatar, The Fifth Element and Spy Kids, not like an original creation. A stronger, visionary director probably would've made a big difference here, or at least one who knows how to use the volume stages, because that might’ve avoided the Spy Kids comparisons.
2nd act: Jonathan Majors arrives to do some actual acting, and he somehow pulls it off despite the hammy, pseudo-intellectual lines given to him by the script. Michelle Pfeiffer also gets some time to shine, when she's on the screen with Majors it feels like the movie actually comes to life for a brief second. Still, the scenes with Kang feel tonally inconsistent with the rest of the movie, and I’m not sold on the idea of him being the Avengers level threat we’ve been waiting for. When it comes to the other actors, most of them are given nothing interesting to do, the supposed co-lead of this movie (according to the title) included. I don't like picking on younger actors, but it needs to be said that Emma Fuhrmann expressed more emotion during her 10 second appearance as Cassie Lang in Avengers: Endgame than Kathryn Newton did here. In terms of story, this portion of the movie is all about set-up and clunky exposition as delivered through monologues. One of the characters even gets introduced with his own 'previously on Ant-Man' recap, which I find insulting and shows what little faith this studio has in its audience. Besides, it probably would’ve been better to cut this character, because his inclusion is easily one of Marvel's worst creative decisions (the design and visual effects are laughable). Generally I'd say this act is pretty boring, and occasionally embarrassing.
3rd act: The movie decides it wants to be Aquaman instead, so we're getting an extended battle sequence of stuff fighting other stuff, with plenty of flashes, lasers and more stuff. It's big, it's loud, and I check out. Every cheesy crowdpleaser deserves its fair share of deus ex machina moments, but this movie spams the action movie trope of 'our main character is in peril only to get saved at the very last moment' to death at this point. Furthermore, the cringe comedy makes a big return, with Corey Stoll delivering a line so bad that it will become a meme (you'll know once you see the movie). More punchy stuff, more pew pew, more 'comedy', and thankfully the movie finally decides it has wasted enough of my time. We get a final montage that includes the first good joke of the movie, and the credits roll. Nothing is achieved, absolutely nothing. This is a cynically conceived advertisement that does not deserve your time.
3/10
I don't know if its just a matter of age, but this film did not work for me. The central pairing between Michael Douglas and Glenn Close was almost a complete deal breaker. I understand style and beauty standards change from decade to decade, but I was not seeing any attraction, fatal or otherwise. And that's not to say the performances were bad. I actually think they both did solid work. Maybe too solid in the case of Glenn Close, as her character struck me as the type to avoid almost immediately. Job well done I suppose. As far as the story goes, there wasn't much to it. It's a simple premise, and once the train is on the tracks it doesn't really offer many surprises. I spent much of the movie speculating on the next big sequence and was correct more often than not. The ending also suffers from a couple problems. I felt it borrowed a bit too much from the slasher/horror genre (especially with the cliché not-dead-yet Glenn Close jumping out of the bath tub for a final scare. I also think it would have benefitted from a less tidy/happy ending. As an aside, my girlfriend and I had been specifically looking to watch an erotic thriller and were quite disappointed in this film's offerings in that regard. However, we did get a good laugh out of the strange sex scene where the sink accidentally starts running and Michael and Glenn frantically start splashing water onto each other. Not sure we'll be incorporating that move, but definitely something to think about. As one final note, there are a couple scenes featuring casual racist stereotypes that are enough to make any modern audience grimace. They aren't a major part of the film, and are downright tame compared to something like Mickey Rooney's character in Breakfast at Tiffany's, but it's always interesting to see how things have changed over the last 30+ years.
Ryan Reynolds' well established brand of sarcastic quips isn't nearly enough to salvage this film. In fact, the humor isn't even a saving grace, as it's way more miss than hit, often feeling stilted and obligatory. The paper-thin plot doesn't bring anything new to the time travel genre, boiling down the typical elements to the absolute bare minimum. All talk of mechanics and paradoxes are swept under the rug without any meaningful explanation, with the allegedly high stakes often expressed through nebulous expository dialogue (e.g. when Reynolds explains to his younger self that 2050 is just like in terminator but worse). Combine all that with noticeably cheap special effects, less than compelling acting from most everyone involved, and ineffective sentimental moments, and the end result is a disappointingly forgettable mess.
The score sounds good (minus the weird corny Radiohead needle drop), it has a unique stylish look I love and the special effects are awesome. Once you get to the story though it's the usual sci-fi schlock; the robot hating human ends up helping the robot, humans vs. A.I., big war, who's good, who's bad... Seen this countless times. I don't mind the usual recipe but this film acts like you've never seen it, it's the only playing card and it's so predictable from beginning to end.
The first half I found pretty compelling it was a 7 but it completely lost me in the second half. Got tired of the story, it just constantly circles back to the mother which is uninteresting and such a stretched out storyline. Didn't like the pacing. The emotions felt artificial and silly, didn't make me feel much. So much stuff that's unexplained and illogical. The characters were fine at the beginning but it's like I got fed up of them in the second half and the relationship between the two main characters felt forced.
More of a personal taste but I hate the design for the Simulants, why bother covering the face with fake skin but not cover the back of the head and that ugly hole makes no sense. Overall a very average and forgettable sci-fi.
As is expected from Guillermo del Toro, this is an interesting one. The universal positive here is the acting. Bradley Cooper and Rooney Mara are both excellent, as is the entire ensemble, with Toni Collette, Willem Dafoe, and David Strathairn being the standouts. Cate Blanchett was perhaps the only one who I was less on board with, but I think that has more to do with the writing than with her performance.
As far as the story goes, this film is divided into two very distinct segments: (1) Stan's life with the carnival; and (2) Stan's life with Molly in the city. For me this structure resulted in what felt like a pacing issue. After moving very quickly through the first segment, with numerous time jumps keeping things progressing, things seemed to slow down in the second segment. This might have to do with the fact that the story narrows significantly. The opening segment was more slice of life; establishing the setting, the characters, and their relationships. Character driven rather than plot driven. The second segment flips this around and becomes very plot focused. I can't help but compare the two segments and unfortunately the second doesn't quite deliver on the promise of the first. Character reversals and reveals felt rushed or unearned (e.g. Cate Blanchett's final scene in particular felt very contrived) and the main conflict itself felt somewhat half baked. At the heart of the story is also the phony mentalism, which started to wear thin for me, as it doesn't exactly make for exciting cinematic material and starts to strain my suspension of disbelief. Luckily, even some of these questionable elements are largely saved by the fact that everything else about the film is so damn good, including not only the aforementioned acting, but also the stellar costumes, set design, directing, dialogue, and pretty much everything else that goes into filmmaking. And beyond that, the movie is also able to steer itself into an appropriately nightmarish ending, tying back to all of the great groundwork from the opening section. I found it quite appropriate that Willem Dafoe's tremendous monologue about recruiting geeks would be the critical building block of the final scene. Plus Tim Blake Nelson does an excellent job in his brief cameo executing the devilish plan Dafoe outlined.
As an aside, soon after finishing this film I learned that it was a remake of an apparently well reviewed 1947 film, which was in turn based on a 1946 novel. While I'm not normally one to watch two versions of the same story back to back, in this case I'm tempted to watch the original, as I'd be interested to see how this story was told back when it was more contemporary (the story takes place from the 1930s-1940s). The period piece elements of this film are so intentional and well realized that I can't help but wonder if the original would feel a bit bland in comparison, as the setting/era might be less of a focus.
While some will undoubtedly criticize the perhaps overly meta set-up that accounts for the first 30 minutes of this film, relative to the rest of the movie, that portion was actually my favorite part and I can't help but wish they had just gone all in on the idea. The story of a game designer who is losing his grip on reality felt fresh and unique. The rest of the movie... not so much. At the conclusion of the original trilogy, the Matrix lore was already an incomprehensible mess, but skipping ahead 60 years and dropping a whole new collection of buzzwords and exposition dumps only made things worse. All the more reason to cut ties with all of that baggage and tell some new story in which the Matrix is simply a series of videos games created by a troubled mind. Alas, that's not the movie we got, and after those first 30 minutes the film turns into an unsuccessful rehash of various elements of previous Matrix films. To make matters worse, the action is also not up to par. Even just finishing the movie minutes ago, I'm having a hard time thinking back to any memorable set pieces or sequences.
Luckily, things aren't all bad. The cast are pretty much universally solid, including both new and returning characters/actors. Jonathan Groff leans into his role as the new Agent Smith, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II sells his version of Morpheus, and Neil Patrick Harris delivers some fun monologues as the Analyst. Unfortunately, great acting can only take you so far, enough to sell hammy dialogue or even save individual scenes, but not enough to save the overall plot.
I am sometimes tempted to put Gerard Butler's recent career in the same bucket as that of Nicolas Cage and Bruce Willis, who both have been known to act in c-level schlock for a paycheck. However, looking back on Butler's filmography of late, I really think I'm not being fair to old Leonidas. While his recent films could be described as schlocky for sure, none of them are really comparable to the true garbage you might see if you watch every film that has Willis' face plastered on the poster (no offence intended, I'm sure if I was in Willis' shoes I'd do the same). In any case, this movie corrected my misjudgment. It's good. Really good in fact. With a little more money behind it, I think it actually had the potential to be great. The writing might be the stand-out here, with a set-up that is so simple and effective that, as an audience member, you are immediately excited to see how things play out. The pacing keeps that excitement building, ramping up appropriately throughout the lean runtime. While there are definitely some over-the-top/cliché elements toward the end, none of them are deal-breakers. The acting is also strong across the board. Toby Huss has a ton of fun in his role and while Gerard Butler's performance is very much on brand for him, it's a brand that he excels at and it's entertaining as ever. There's also some solid humor sprinkled in throughout.
While I wasn't able to find any info or estimate regarding the budget for this film, Joe Carnahan's previous film, Boss Level, had a reported budget of $45 million. I haven't seen that film, so I can't directly compare, but I suspect that Copshop was made for significantly less than that and unfortunately the limited budget is recognizable at various points throughout the film. Some effect work is a bit rough and the filming of certain scenes seemed detrimentally budget driven. The handful of night scenes also stood out in a bad way, all looking like they were done with a night filter of some sort (this could be a stylistic choice, but it looked odd and cheap to my eyes). Luckily, none of these issues were major enough to meaningfully detract from the film's successful elements and at the end of the day I'd recommend this to anyone looking for a solid action/thriller.
Was looking for a comedy and chose this based on its good reviews and the fact that it features some actors that I've enjoyed in other comedies (Sam Richardson in Veep, Michael Chernus in Patriot, and George Basil in Crashing). Unfortunately, I came away quite disappointed. The movie embraces its clichéd setup a bit too much for my liking, with the various twists/reversals in the final half hour feeling very predictable. The goofy small town characters feel too much like caricatures. The humor is more hit than miss. Although the primary genre is different, I can't help but compare this to Knives Out, which was significantly more successful, both in terms of establishing an interesting ensemble cast, and crafting a clever story. All of that said, the movie isn't awful, or even bad. As my rating suggests, it's just sort of meh. There's a handful of funny moments and Sam Richardson has the comedic chops to sell even some of the weaker jokes, but it's not enough to recommend.
I decided to go back and watch both original Ghostbusters prior to watching the new Ghostbusters: Afterlife. I had never actually seen the sequel, so this one was totally new to me. Unfortunately, watching this film immediately after the iconic original doesn't do it any favors. It's just worse in about every way. The humor is more miss than hit. The story isn't as tight. The finale was an unexciting chore. The handful of new ideas don't land, and the returning elements are a pale imitation. Critically, the central plot device, the "mood slime", felt ill conceived and forced. Of course, there are still some solid moments and elements. Bill Murray makes the most of the less inspired humor and I enjoyed Rick Moranis' return. I also think the initial set-up had promise, as the idea of the Ghostbusters "going bust" opens up all sorts of potential story directions. But thirty minutes in, most of that potential is unfulfilled and is subsequently jettisoned when the movie manufactures a way to revert things back to normal and get the Ghostbusters back on top, which feels like a big missed opportunity.
I was sitting down to watch the new Ghostbusters: Afterlife when I realized that I hadn't seen the original in probably 15 years and had in fact never bothered to see the sequel. So, I changed plans and decided I'd do something of a marathon and watch all three (perhaps even four, as I also haven't seen the reboot from 2016).
This movie is a classic for a reason and it remains worthy of its reputation. Yes, the effects are incredibly dated, and yes, the ending doesn't quite stick the landing, but neither of those things really matter when Bill Murray is on screen delivering some of the most hilarious and iconic one liners of all time. I also want to complement the brilliantly snappy pacing, from hilarious cold open all the way to marshmallow covered finale, there isn't a wasted moment.
Prior to watching this, I went back and re-watched both of the originals from the '80s. Overall, I'd say that decision was 50% worthwhile, as the plot of this movie is very connected to the plot of the original, so if you haven't seen it recently, I'd definitely recommend a re-watch. However, you can absolutely skip the sequel, which, as far as I could tell, was not referenced at all in this movie.
This movie was a pleasant surprise. The premise might be the biggest strength, as it provides meaningful connections to the original, while at the same time building out a strong new cast of characters with emotional depth. The young performers are all quite excellent, with Mckenna Grace doing most of the heavy lifting and stealing the show. The other three don't have quite as much to do in the story, but Logan Kim and Finn Wolfhard still provide solid comedic relief. Unfortunately, Celeste O'Connor ends up feeling underused. Carrie Coon and Paul Rudd are both expectedly solid.
From a story perspective, the film starts strong. The pacing is snappy, the humor is generally on point, and the characters are all well established. However, once the central conflict starts ramping up around the halfway mark, things start to lose steam. After Carrie Coon's and Paul Rudd's characters are turned into the gatekeeper and the keymaster, the story ends up on autopilot, moving in a very predictable fashion toward the conclusion. None of it is particularly bad, but it's not great either. Luckily, the emotional payoff still lands well enough to carry the finale. I do think that introducing the original cast to the film sooner rather than later could have helped make up for the absence of Carrie Coon and Paul Rudd during the last 30-45 minutes.
All in all, a surprisingly worthwhile belated sequel.
I'm starting to think that the MCU's expansive success has some downsides, such as when they need to add on fresh new characters. I can't help but wonder if every new MCU superhero will either have a post-Thanos origin or will have a conversation like the one we see in this film where someone asks "Why didn't you help with Thanos?". It starts to feel restrictive, like the writers have to be careful to color within the lines so as not to step on the toes of any other films. In addition, I can't help but think of Obi-Wan's line in Phantom Menace: There's always a bigger fish. This relates to power creep and the need to ramp up the stakes. One villain threatens the city, the next the world, then the universe, then the timeline, then all universes and all timelines. If you think too much about everything we've seen so far in the MCU, you quickly start to wonder how some of these elements and characters can coexist. And even if they can coexist, they still might retroactively diminish the weight and stakes of previous films. This was kind of the case with the Eternals and the introduction of Celestials and the literal birth of the universe.
Moving past how it fits within the MCU, Eternals is not a bad film. It is perhaps overly ambitious, with quite a large ensemble for an introductory film. The runtime matches this ambition, attempting to give all of the characters room to breathe. This is done to varying degrees of success, but luckily no outright failures. The humor from Kumail Nanjiani and his valet was appreciated. While I've never been a huge Jolie fan, I thought the conflict surrounding her character was interesting and her relationship with Ma Dong-seok's Gilgamesh was a nice element. I would say the weakest link would be Lauren Ridloff's Makkari, and not from an acting perspective, but because her character seemed to be the only one who doesn't have any real arc. Overall, it's not the expansive cast that drags things down to middling, but rather the muddy plot and less than compelling lore (e.g. everything toward the end about the uni-mind and sharing power was pretty eye roll inducing). Some of the conflict between the characters also feels forced and the merits of the dispute between the Eternals isn't exactly compelling. The action is generally solid and might be the biggest beneficiary of the expansive cast, as the diverse power set on display is a nice way to spice up the set pieces.
I don't think it's really fair to compare a collection of short films to feature length films. Specifically, I think the difficulty of creating 90-120 minutes of compelling and cohesive story is exponentially higher than creating 5-10 minute vignettes. I think this increased difficulty is largely driven by the connective tissue that is required in a feature length film. That connective tissue comes in the form of balanced pacing to keep an audience engaged for two hours and more complex narratives to sustain that runtime. In comparison, a short film has less moving parts, doesn't need a traditional story arc, and can often be built around a single sequence or idea. As a collection, each short can end whenever is convenient and move on to the next without paying any mind to pacing.
Now, all of that said, I'm going to make the unfair comparison and say that Animatrix is undoubtedly better than every Matrix sequel. While that's not a particularly high bar, this film isn't just a step above them, but rather leaps and bounds. With it's diverse collection of stories and animation styles, I couldn't help but be reminded of the fantastic Netflix series Love, Death + Robots. This is particularly high praise considering that this film predated LD+R by over 15 years. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if LD+R was at least partly inspired by the success of Animatrix.
As for the individual shorts, I'll include some brief thoughts on each below.
Final Flight of the Osiris: Perhaps the most traditional of all of the shorts, with an action focused story that directly connects to the plotlines of the mainline trilogy. Unfortunately this results in a short that feels quite unoriginal compared the rest, especially having recently watched the films. I think I've seen more than enough shooting at sentinels. Overall, inoffensive but nothing groundbreaking.
The Second Renaissance Parts I and II: These documentary-esque shorts provide a history lesson on the relationship between man and machine, a history that is full of interesting beats that meaningfully expand the Matrix lore. I think part one covered more ground and was more compelling than part two, but they both were well done.
Kid's Story: Another direct connection to the mainline trilogy, providing a very cool origin story to a Reloaded/Revolutions character that I didn't think was very compelling in the live action films. Animation style was also suitably unique.
Program: I enjoyed the animation style here, and the action was fun enough, but the story didn't land meaningfully for me.
World Record: The concept behind this segment was very cool. Unfortunately, this was the only short where I didn't really love the animation style.
Beyond: This one is probably one of my top two, as it just felt so unique from the rest. It easily could have been a LD+R episode with no connection to the Matrix and it would have been great in that context too.
A Detective Story: My other favorite of the bunch. This one has a very direct connection to a mainline Matrix character, but the black and white noir style sets it apart in a fantastic way. The animation is top notch, with some very memorable shots.
Matriculated: Towards the lower end for me. I liked the idea, but the execution got a bit too abstract for my tastes.
When I heard good things about Scream (2022), I decided that it was probably time to go back and watch the original, which somehow I have never seen. However, I also knew that the original Scream was very influenced by and possibly included direct references to many classic slasher films; all of which I have also not seen. So, in order to fully appreciate whatever nuances may exist within the slasher genre, I must first catch up on all the classics, starting here, with John Carpenter's Halloween.
If I had seen this movie back in 1978, when it was considered a groundbreaking entry in the horror genre, perhaps I would have been more impressed and generous with my rating. Alas, here we are 44 years later, and what was once groundbreaking, is now a poster child for overused tropes and clichés. Of course, I understand this film likely invented some of those tropes/clichés, but at the end of the day, for a modern audience watching this movie for the first time, that doesn't really matter. Large swathes of the movie felt familiar because I've seen a dozen newer films that followed the same formula.
Now, that doesn't mean the movie isn't effective. It's a lean story with a simple set-up that very much accomplishes it's goal. Michael Myers is a truly creepy character; his heavy breathing and iconic mask an ever effective way to amp up the tension (especially when combined with the signature soundtrack). His overbearing presence throughout almost every scene in the movie does a good job of keeping the viewer on their toes, trying to anticipate how and when the next victim will meet their end. I will say, the violence is quite tame by modern standards, which somewhat deflates the payoff moments. Additionally, the ending was a letdown, providing an excellent example of one of my least favorite tropes: when the protagonist doesn't confirm that the villain is dead or at least restrain them, which happens, not once, but twice. I'd also say that the acting was rough in many places.
Ending on one positive note, I think it's crazy that a movie this iconic was still able to take me by surprise with it's opening scene: somehow I wasn't aware of Michael Myers' origin story and so I was not expecting a child to be the initial murderer.
Horror films, and more specifically slasher films, have never been a high priority for me. In fact, until this week, I don't think I had seen a single slasher film. So, in recognition of the iconic reputation held by some of the classics of the genre, I am now setting out to remedy this gap in my film history. This film was the second in my journey, following Halloween (1978). Unfortunately, two movies in, I'm already starting to remember why these movies weren't a high priority.
To put it simply, this movie just doesn't have much to it. Most of the characters are lacking in meaningful development, and even in the cases where an attempt is made, the characterization doesn't end up mattering, with no connection to the plot, narratively or thematically. At the end of the day, the characters only purpose seems to be to die, which doesn't make for all that compelling of a film.
As with Halloween (1978), this movie undoubtedly inspired any number of tropes/clichés, and while credit should be given for introducing such elements, at the end of the day, they don't hold up. The final segment of the film is the worst offender, with the "final girl" walking away from an incapacitated (but still very much alive) villain, not once, but three times. That whole sequence was unbelievably hard to swallow.
As the only other slasher I have seen, I can't help but to compare and contrast this film to Halloween (1978). This film's soundtrack was not as effective for me. The villain didn't have as much of a presence throughout, which took away from the tension. On the plus side, I think the acting on display in this film was slightly better over all. The kills were also a bit more visceral (although still pretty tame to a modern audience).
Finally, as with Halloween (1978), I was pleasantly surprised that I was unspoiled as to the plot of such an iconic movie, totally unaware of the origin story of Jason Voorhees and the fact that he wasn't the killer. Also, I was pleasantly surprised by the appearance of Kevin Bacon, who I had no idea was in this. Mr. Bacon's less than graceful dive into the lake was probably the most unintentionally hilarious scene in the movie for me.
The third classic slasher on my list and easily the best so far. Production value was notably higher. Doing some quick Googling, it looks like estimates put the budget of this film two to three times higher than the budgets of Halloween (1978) and Friday the 13th (1980), and the extra money definitely translated onto the screen, with more locations, higher quality/quantity of special effects, and just generally better production design. In particular, the dream sequences that seamlessly transition between different locations to evoke the twisted domain where Freddy rules were very well done. Moving on to the story, the premise of this film was also a nice step up, forgoing the overly simplistic killer setup. Here we have an explicitly supernatural horror, with both the characters and the audience slowly unraveling how things work together. Again, this is a huge improvement from Michael Myers' and Jason's first movies, as the characters actually participate in the plot rather than just waiting for their turn to die. I think the critical change is the fact that the characters all learn of each death in advance of the next, whereas with Halloween (1978) and Friday the 13th (1980), all of the deaths were pretty much hidden to the characters until the "final girl" stumbles across all of the bodies. That setup gave tension only to the audience, whereas this setup allows the tension to build within the characters too. Nancy Thompson is frightened to go to sleep, not just in the final act, but throughout this entire movie, and I think that makes for a more compelling story. Additionally, the acting was much improved from the aforementioned classic slashers. Now, despite all of these improvements, the movie unfortunately didn't quite stick the landing for me. Both the pseudo-ending and the sequel-bait switch out felt unearned and anticlimactic.
To end on a couple of positive notes: (1) the opening sequence showing Freddy craft his signature finger blades was a very strong start; and (2) as with the previous two slashers I watched, I was once again pleasantly surprised to be unspoiled about any of the details of this movie. As such, Tina's death took me very much by surprise, as I had assumed she would be the "final girl".
Prior to watching this film, I had some catching up to do on the slasher genre, having never seen any of the classics. I stuck to only the originals and watched Halloween (1978), Friday the 13th (1980), and Nightmare on Elm Street (1984). While those three didn't exactly win me over on the genre, I was still glad to have watched them, as this film makes numerous direct references to the characters and clichés of these classics. That said, I don't think you need to have seen them to enjoy this film, as the references aren't critical to the plot and can be understood through generous context in any case.
So, how does this meta-slasher stack up against the classics? It's better in pretty much every way. Both the story and the characters have more depth, with meaningful backstories, relationships, and reveals that all tie to the central conflict. Comedic elements actually land, both in terms of dialogue and meta-slasher commentary (Randy's slasher obsessed monologues are a good time, especially when coinciding with clever intercut moments). Finally, the biggest distinguishing success for me was the ending, which not only doesn't fall flat, but in fact lands so successfully so as to retroactively improve my assessment of the rest of the film. For example, some of the acting that I thought was a little too hammy in the first and second acts (Matthew Lillard's portrayal of Stu) is re-contextualized by the finale and feels much more appropriate in retrospect. It's a well-acted, bloody set piece with twists and turns that had just the right amount of bread crumbs to make them feel earned. It turns a would-be slasher into a who-dun-it that you feel like you could have actually solved, which is a nice change of pace from the much more simplistic classics. In the end, unlike in the case of those classics, with this film I'm actually interested in checking out the sequels, which serves as a solid endorsement to its quality.
EDIT: Forgot that I had taken a couple of notes during the movie. First, the cliché scene where a character is in a bathroom stall and overhears people talking about them was surprisingly solid. And two, being a big fan of Peaky Blinders, it's always fun to hear a soundtrack that includes "On a gathering storm comes a tall handsome man, in a dusty black coat with a red right hand". And given the killer's black costume, it's even somewhat relevant.
I want to preface my review by acknowledging that I am definitely not the target audience of this film. I don't know that I've ever even seen a Gucci product, let alone purchased one, and I certainly didn't have any interest in the history of the brand. I watched this as a fan of Ridley Scott, Adam Driver, and Lady Gaga (who I have been excited to see expand her filmography after really enjoying A Star is Born (2018)).
When I reviewed King Richard a couple of months back, I pointed out two consistent issues that I have with movies based on true stories: (1) minor knowledge of the true story can make the movie feel predictable or even boring; and (2) those elements of the movie that do manage to surprise, often raise alarm bells as I instinctively assume that they are the result of creative liberties or embellishment. Luckily, House of Gucci suffered from neither of these problems. Unluckily, it raised a far more fundamental issue: sometimes true stories just don't translate into compelling films. To illustrate this point with a hypothetical, if a screenwriter set out to write a fictional film about the drama of a wealthy fashion family, I don't think the final product would look anything like House of Gucci. Without the restrictions of the real world, there would be more drama, more conflict, more substance. What we got instead, was over two and half hours of inoffensive but unexciting relationship drama that feels better suited to a simple Wikipedia article than it does to a Ridley Scott directed film.
Despite this quite significant critique, the movie is still entirely watchable. While I can't speak to the authenticity of the Italian accents, none of the performances stuck out in a negative way and the production design and costumes were excellent to my admittedly fashion-illiterate eyes. As one final point of interest, while watching the movie I would have bet the farm that the eccentric, balding Paolo Gucci was played by Jeffrey Tambor. To say that I was surprised when I learned that it was in fact Jared Leto (presumably under a metric ton of makeup), would be a massive understatement.
Coming-of-age is an interesting genre, as it often attempts a delicate balancing act of drama, comedy, and romance. This film certainly fits that description. In this case, the comedy is probably the strongest element, though it arrives primarily via the veteran supporting cast rather than the leads. Martin Starr, Bill Hader, and Kristen Wiig are all hilarious, often times performing what amounts to stand alone sketch comedy throughout the film (the unrefrigerated corn dog bit was a highlight). Additionally, the film gets plenty of comedic mileage out of the budget amusement park setting.
The romance and drama elements of the film are very intertwined. Jesse Eisenberg and Kristen Stewart share plenty of cute scenes, and I think they work well together as a somewhat awkward, unconventional pairing (the fact that they later starred together in American Ultra suggests that they may enjoy working together and have some natural chemistry, which is always nice to see). The dramatic elements to the romantic story are a little bit tougher to pull off. Unlike your typical rom-com, this film's romantic conflict doesn't come from some benign misunderstanding or "will-they won't-they" element, but rather incorporates some more serious drama. While these elements are perfectly serviceable, they didn't quite mesh with the rest of the story for me. This really stood out toward the end of the film, as it took some predictable turns, weaving toward a cliché finale. It also felt somewhat rushed and unearned, as the dramatic fallout of characters' bad decisions was relatively short-lived, being quickly swept aside to make way for an optimistic conclusion.
As a side note, I always find it interesting when plot threads are seemingly left hanging. In this case, the lack of resolution, or even acknowledgement of Mr. Brennan's presumed alcohol problem definitely stood out. Makes me wonder if there was ever the thought to add something more there, or if it was always going to be a silent acknowledgement.
After watching this film, the phrase that comes to mind is "less than the sum of its parts". There were plenty of fun ideas and sequences, but as a whole the movie was a bit disjointed. After a cliché, but effective opening, the film moves at a quick pace, with several time jumps to progress through its historically based narrative beats and make the most of its WWI backdrop. While these time jumps may have been necessary, and some were even well executed (the time lapse of a European landscape turning into trench warfare was certainly effective), ultimately it felt like the movie was checking boxes without meaningfully progressing the central conflict. I think these structural problems may be driven by the attempted reversal of one of the key moments from the original Kingsman, i.e. instead of having a father/son (mentor/mentee) relationship that is disrupted midway through the film by the surprise death of the mentor, this film has it be disrupted by the surprise death of the mentee. The moment still works alright, providing a much needed jolt of surprise to reenergize the plot, but ultimately I think the original film's setup creates a more compelling narrative thread.
Beyond the structure, I think this film's role as an origin story for "The Kingsman" agency was also somewhat limiting. The elements related to the "network of spies" were almost purely expository and/or montage driven, and were generally the weakest parts of the film. In particular, the initial reveal scene of the secret door and conspiracy wall covered command center strained my suspension of disbelief, as we are supposed to believe that three people are somehow operating any sort of meaningful operation. It also felt out of the blue and very much at odds with what was seen previously of Ralph Fiennes' character. In addition, the film tries to replicate the odd tonal balance of the original Kingsman film, which is a tough sell. Mixing extreme violence with elements of whimsy is a dangerous game, and the original Kingsman's success has proven tough to reproduce. My recollection is that the sequel, Kingsman: The Golden Circle, suffered similarly.
However, as noted above, the film has plenty of successful elements. The action is generally fun and well executed, with plenty of impressive choreography and direction (e.g. even though the premise of the no man's land encounter is ridiculous, it's still a clever idea and nice set piece). The acting was solid all around. Ralph Fiennes is dependable and Djimon Hounsou, though underutilized, is always a treat. Having Tom Hollander play King George, Kaiser Wilhelm, and Tsar Nicholas is a fun idea, although it wasn't used very effectively in my opinion. Despite 1917 and They Shall Not Grow Old bringing it some recent attention, WWI remains an underrepresented historical setting in recent film, so to see another film take a stab at it is always appreciated. At the same time, this also naturally results in comparisons to 1917, which, as one might expect, are not exactly favorable for this film (Sam Mendes and Roger Deakins are on another level).
As some final notes, Charles Dance is really going to struggle to overcome his days as Tywin Lannister, as I waited patiently throughout this film for his inevitable betrayal (I won't spoil you by saying whether it came or not). And finally, the central villain, who I was quite certain was going to be David Tennant based on his voice, was in fact, not David Tennant, which was a nice twist (note that this is not a spoiler, as David Tennant is not in the film at all).
I think slice-of-life films have a disadvantage over those that are structured around more linear and external dramatic narratives. In murder mysteries for example, the plot alone might be enough to keep viewers invested, as they try to anticipate the twists and turns and identify the culprit. On the other hand, in films like The Tender Bar, there isn't necessarily an "A leads to B leads to C" plot progression, with many scenes feeling more like independent vignettes than pieces of a whole. As a result, characters and dialogue, rather than plot, have to do the heavy lifting. Luckily, this film knocks it out of the park in both of those areas.
Every character in this film feels real. Of course, it is based on a true story, so naturally you would hope that would be the case, but I've watched enough movies to know that it's easier said than done. The central relationships are unique and well established. Not often do we get to see an uncle/nephew relationship take the center stage. I've always had a soft spot for Ben Affleck, and the unconventional role model character was perfect for him. Child actors are always a risky play, but Daniel Ranieri does a fantastic job as the precocious JR. Christopher Lloyd is the perfect crotchety grandpa with a heart of gold. One of my favorite sequences in the film was when he takes JR to the fathers' and sons' breakfast. Such a wholesome moment that almost singlehandedly fleshes out an otherwise one note character, giving him virtues to go along with his flaws.
As far as potential critiques go, I don't have too much to say. Narration has always been a tough sell for me, but its use was fairly minimal and it ultimately didn't meaningfully detract. I also thought that the intercutting of scenes with JR on the train to Yale didn't really add much.
Some final positives. The soundtrack is killer. The dialogue is clever. The sets and costumes are stylish. Beyond that, it was thought provoking, uplifting, and just generally a well made film. As one final note, I should acknowledge that I'm probably biased in my enjoyment of this film, as my own writing aspirations gave me a natural connection to JR's story. Despite this acknowledgement, I'm still surprised at the film's less than positive critical reception.
NOTE: This isn't a typical review. Most of it is commentary on screenwriting in general, as well as the career of this screenwriter. Skip to the last paragraph for my discussion regarding the actual film.
Most people may not realize it, but the majority of Hollywood scripts are either pre-sold or written on assignment. That is to say, the script doesn't come first. Established writers may approach studios with a pitch or outline, and if the studio gets on board they will pay for the script to be written. Alternatively, in cases where a studio already has something in mind, often based on IP they own, they will circulate an open writing assignment (aka an OWA). Writers are then brought in to pitch for a chance at securing the OWA, at which point they will be paid to write the script. Theoretically, both of these approaches allow writers to avoid unpaid work, as they only write scripts that already have funding behind them.
On the other side of the spectrum, there are "spec scripts", so labeled because they are written speculatively, with only the faintest glimmer of hope that they will ever be sold or produced. Every year, there are thousands of spec scripts written and maybe a couple dozen that make it to the big screen. So, with production often an unrealistic expectation, spec scripts more commonly serve as writing samples to get aspiring writers in the door, potentially helping them to secure manager or agent representation, which may in turn lead to OWA or other opportunities down the line.
Every year, a company called The Black List surveys hundreds of film executives to identify the most well liked unproduced scripts of the year. However, even the spec scripts on these annual lists, which theoretically are among the best spec scripts available, are unlikely to ever be made, with less than a third making it to production. Despite this, securing a spot on the list can provide up and coming writers a foothold into the industry. This approach was certainly effective for Jon Spaihts, the screenwriter of Passengers.
Back in 2007, Spaihts had two scripts make the annual Black List. While that sounds like quite a hot start to his career, his IMDB page may suggest that things didn't take off as quickly, with his first writing credit not coming until 2011. However, I believe this is likely misleading, as evidenced by Spaihts' second writing credit in 2012, Prometheus. That's a big budget film, tied to a huge IP, helmed by an A-list director. You don't get hired on that kind of project without making a name for yourself. So even if his credits were slim, Spaights was clearly making an impact from 2007 through 2011.
So what does overwritten preamble have to do with Passengers? Well, that's the interesting bit. One of Spaihts' Black List scripts from back in 2007 was this film! Passengers was written on spec almost a decade before the film's ultimate release in 2016. While I can't speak to the full journey from original script to big budget production starring A-list talent, having a project stay alive through such a long development period speaks volumes about Spaihts' career during those early days. And seeing where Spaihts' has gone since then (Doctor Strange, The Mummy, and Dune), it's clear that he has secured himself quite a spot in the industry.
I know this isn't your typical review, but as an aspiring screenwriter myself, I was fascinated when I looked into Spaihts' career and thought maybe others might be too. All of that said, I know I haven't said a single thing about the actual film. So what did I think?
I really enjoyed the premise. I really enjoyed the performances. I really did not enjoy the ending. What started as a small scale, interpersonal drama, devolved into an over-the-top, generic space disaster finale that completely destroyed all suspension of disbelief. I think there is a version of this story that takes a romantic thriller approach to the back half, which I would have enjoyed more.
In today's environment of bottomless new content competing for my attention, I really struggle to find reasons to re-watch anything. The siren call of the new and unknown, brimming with potential greatness, will inevitably win out over the familiar. However, the one exception to this rule is when I have opportunities to watch things with others. After all, what is the purpose of trekking out into the unknown if I don't share what I discover. With that said, this was a re-watch for me, as my mother was visiting and was looking to watch a movie. This film had really resonated with me and I thought she would connect with its story as well.
I wasn't writing reviews at the time of my first watch, so I figured I'd circle back with a brief write-up. If you're unaware, this film is based on a stage play, so you should be prepared for a very small, dialogue driven story. That said, the clever central conceit (our perspective mirroring the unreliable perception of Hopkins' character as his mind deteriorates with age) provides a backbone of drama and mystery as the story unfolds. It's the perfect blend of high and low concept (a simple narrative twist applied to a dialogue driven character study). Ultimately, the main thing to talk about here is the powerhouse performance of Anthony Hopkins. There's a reason he won an Oscar for this role. His character's arc through the movie feels authentic, with the entire spectrum of human emotions on display. Historically I'm not one to get emotional during movies, but that may be changing, as Hopkins' performance in some of the final scenes of this film definitely had my eyes watering up.
I have a hard time calling this movie bad given that so much of the "badness" is so obviously intentional. This is a lovingly crafted b-movie that doesn't shy away from being utterly ridiculous. In fact, being utterly ridiculous seems to be the main intention. While I don't think that intention generally merits a feature length film, they pull it off here thanks to an aggressive pace and a short runtime that recognizes the lack of substance. Clive Owen and Paul Giamatti are game for some delightfully hammy dialogue and performances. Combine that with the juvenile, over-the-top action sequences and off-beat humor, and it was enough to keep me watching. Where else would I get the chance to see a carrot used to fire a submachine gun?
Now, all of that said, I have an equally hard time calling this movie good. Not all of the over-the-top moments land, and for every scene that had me laughing at the absurdity of it all, there was another that had me rolling my eyes and wondering why I wasn't watching something with higher aspirations. There's also the issue of special effects, with dated CGI roaring its ugly head and handicapping some of the most ridiculous scenes. However, I'd be remiss if I didn't also point out that there's plenty of practical effect work to appreciate, with blood squids galore. In fact, I couldn't help but wonder how much more CGI this movie would have if they made it today? I suspect, to its detriment. The camera work was another black mark, with action often being lost in a whirlwind of excessive cuts.
All things considered, I don't regret the watch, but I probably wouldn't recommend it.
With Sound of Metal winning two Oscars last year and being nominated for four more, it would seem that filmmakers have recognized the potential of stories dealing with deaf individuals. Unfortunately, this film didn't quite live up to that potential for me.
The unique angle of a hearing daughter amongst an otherwise deaf family is compelling and well executed. The problem here is that the unique angle isn't used to explore an equally unique plot. The fundamental story is rife with clichés, feeling like it would be right at home as a Hallmark or Disney Channel original. A girl who wants to pursue her dream and go to college but who is held back by conflict with her family. A love interest with whom our protagonist has a rapid falling out and equally rapid reconciliation. An eccentric mentor who she also has a rapid falling out and equally rapid reconciliation with. The story beats in this film will likely feel very familiar and the fact that our protagonist is a Child of Deaf Adults isn't enough of a twist to fully mitigate that familiarity.
Now, even though the story feels like Hallmark/Disney Channel, the quality of the filmmaking certainly does not. This movie is very well made. The acting is generally great, and despite all complaints of familiarity, the movie still lands some potent emotional punches. I definitely got watery eyed when Ruby's dad verbally tells her to go. It's just unfortunate that it couldn't also tell a more unexpected story.
For those looking for other films dealing with deaf individuals, I strongly recommend The Tribe (2014). It is much more avant-garde, exploring the dark world of a Ukrainian boarding school for the deaf. There is essentially no dialogue and the Ukrainian sign language is not subtitled, making for an eerie not-quite-silent silent film.
In recent years I've made a point to watch all 10 Best Picture nominees. It's a relatively achievable goal that forces me to broaden my horizons from the typical blockbuster fare and prepares me both for water cooler talk and future Jeopardy questions. While on the whole it's a worthwhile endeavor, inevitably there are films in this category for which I am definitively not the target audience. West Side Story (2021) is one such film. I don't seek out musicals. I don't have a deep appreciation for extended dance numbers. Romance is not my favorite genre. And I wasn't a particularly big fan of the Shakespeare unit back in English Lit. Absent the Best Picture nomination, the only other motivation I would have to watch this film is the director, which, admittedly, might have been enough. I mean... it's fucking Steven Spielberg.
And really, that idea is my big takeaway from this movie. Spielberg doesn't make bad movies, so even though this one isn't my type, I can still recognize how incredibly well made it is. The direction, cinematography, and production design are absolutely top notch. And even as an uncultured layman, I couldn't help but be impressed by the dance numbers. Unfortunately, the music still didn't do anything for me, even though I'm sure it was also well done. I'm used to musicals full of pop sounding tracks that are trying to (and sometimes succeeding) in becoming radio hits. This certainly isn't that. I heard someone explain that the soundtrack/lyrics are more operatic in nature, which makes sense to me, as they generally seemed to be overly dramatic and on the nose. That said, some songs/sequences still landed quite effectively, with Tony and Riff's fight over the gun being a standout for me.
Finally, regarding the story, I was surprised to find that it kept me invested despite the film's length. Having never seen any previous rendition of West Side Story, my only prior knowledge was that it was a take on Romeo and Juliet. This ended up adding to the experience, as I was kept curious as to how certain story elements would be handled and was pleasantly surprised by the ending.
My religious avoidance of trailers has undoubtedly had a positive effect on my film going experiences. Watching trailers creates expectations, both regarding the quality of the film, as well as the story, tone, and style. I have found that removing these expectations leads to a much more satisfying watch, where every plot point can surprise you and pre-conceived notions don't poison your assessment. Unfortunately, even without watching trailers, expectations sometimes are unavoidable. This is certainly the case with The Power of the Dog, where even just the knowledge that it is a Western was enough for me to have expectations. As a simple example, going into a Western, I expect guns to be going off at some point in the film. Well... spoiler alert: that expectation was not met. And that doesn't make this a bad film. In fact, I believe the lack of shoot outs has no bearing on its quality. But, because I had this expectation going in, it created a very real disconnect while I watched.
Moving past my misguided expectations, this Best Picture nominee is an incredibly well made film that just isn't in my wheel house. That said, I had no trouble recognizing and appreciating the quality. The acting is spectacular all around, with Benedict Cumberbatch's performance being absolutely masterful. The film is just dripping with tension, equal parts aggressive and sexual. Every exchange is full of nuance, often with just facial expressions and silent exchanges doing the heavy lifting. The dramatic relationship conflicts at the heart of the story are surprising and the execution unconventional.
As far as criticisms go, the significant shift that occurs in Cumberbatch's character midway through the movie felt oddly rushed. The ending had a similar problem, with plot points feeling forced to manufacture the dramatic resolution. As one last very minor complaint, I was disappointed that Thomasin McKenzie didn't have a larger role. After seeing Last Night in Soho and Leave No Trace, I've definitely become a fan, so to see her relegated to glorified extra felt like a waste of talent.
I've been putting off writing this review because I don't really have much to say. It's been just over a month since I watched the film and I'm struggling to remember even the basic plot points, let alone any memorable scenes. It was decidedly forgettable. The entire process felt like a box checking exercise by someone trying to make a globe-trotting, treasure hunter film. We've got maps, we've got keys, we've got booby traps, we've got ancient ruins buried in modern cities, we've got predictable betrayals, etc. It's all been done before, and it's all been done better (shout out to the first National Treasure, which feels like the last film that really succeeded in this genre). The clue following and the mystery solving are token at best, with some combination of hand wave-y exposition and straight up stupid solutions (Tom Holland using both keys to "triangulate" the true treasure location on the map had me laughing in the theater with how absurd it is). The comedy mostly missed, with Tom Holland not able to successfully pull off the Spider-Man style quips with this character (mostly a writing issue I think). The action was unimpressive, with the climactic finale being so eye-rollingly unbelievable that it puts even the most ridiculous video game set pieces to shame. All in all, about what we've come to expect out of video game adaptations. That is to say, a disappointment.
There's a lot to talk about with this film. I mean, how can there not be when it's almost three hours long.
First, I want to discuss two comps. One that might feel obvious, and another less so. That is Watchmen and Dune. There's superficial similarities, such as length, with all three of these films running 2.5+ hours. In the case of Watchmen, you could also point to the narration based on the journaling of a masked vigilante. On top of that, there's the excellent production design, costumes, and cinematography. But the reason I point to these films as comps has less to do with those things, and more to do with the overall approach. All three films are heavily atmospheric. Oozing with style. If I had to label the category, I would call them auteur blockbusters. This is a relatively uncommon pairing due to the fundamental conflict between the risk associated with a singular artistic vision and the expense associated with big budget productions. In the crowded superhero genre, there's a lot of films that feel made-by-committee. Marvel has a reputation for their second unit directors, who film the action sequences for every MCU film. I don't know how accurate that reputation is, but the MCU certainly feels like it's struggled against a same-y quality that results in some of their films not having a lasting impact. The fact that several auteur directors have joined and subsequently abandoned MCU projects (e.g. Edgar Wright with Ant-Man or Scott Derrickson with the Doctor Strange sequel) certainly seems supportive of this conflict. Meanwhile, The Batman (and Watchmen and Dune) feel like they went all in on a singular artistic vision and, for the most part, I think they were better for it.
Getting into the actual film, Robert Pattinson continues to impress in his post-Twilight career, making for both an excellent Batman and Bruce Wayne. That said, I was somewhat disappointed that we didn't get more of the latter. Thinking back to Batman Begins, Christian Bale's portrayal of the playboy billionaire got plenty of screen time, with numerous memorable and character developing scenes. By comparison, Robert Pattinson seems to spend most of his time in the mask. This isn't a major issue, as ultimately we're here to see the caped crusader, but I do wonder how things could have looked with a slightly more balanced ratio. I was also impressed with Paul Dano's Riddler. His costume was suitably creepy, his dialogue suitably psychotic, and his performance suitably chilling.
As for the story, it didn't exactly blow me away, but it gets the job done. For such a long film, the plot actually seemed to move pretty quickly, feeling very comic book-esque as it jumped from one clue to the next as Batman tries to solve Riddler's ultimate puzzle. While I generally enjoyed the detective work, there are plenty of instances where suspension of disbelief is threadbare as some questionable logical leaps take us from one location to the next. Also, the culmination of the story didn't really land for me. Exposition dumps came fast and loose toward the finale, in one instance with contradictory reveals seemingly coming back to back (i.e. a character gives devastating news in one scene, and the very next scene a different character says "nope, that was wrong"). Additionally, Falcone's ultimate villainy felt like something of a false-twist, making the whole rat investigation feel like it didn't go anywhere interesting. Luckily, none of these problems are egregious enough to drag down the solid foundation.
Speaking of the length, I think there's a reasonable argument to be made that the film was longer than necessary. It's jam packed with lingering shots, to the point where you could probably cut 20 minutes without losing a single line of dialogue or plot point. Now, that's not to say that I would recommend such extreme measures. There's merit in letting certain moments hang, and the cinematography alone justifies plenty of these shots. That said, I still think some were overdone and that prudent trimming could be justified.
Some quick final thoughts. While my typical anti-narration stance remains, I wasn't too bothered by its implementation here. In fact, I thought the opening monologue and set-up with the various criminals all afraid of a potential encounter with Batman was well executed. Finally, regarding the action, I thought the hand to hand combat through most of the film was excellent. However, I do think there were a couple non-hand to hand moments that got a little over the top, such as the Batmobile chase that culminated in ramping off of a truck (although I will acknowledge that the upside down follow up shot, with Batman silhouetted by the explosion as he approached the Penguin, looked badass). Additionally, the finale set-piece with all of the shooters in the stadium rafters was a bit questionable, as it had Batman taking a lot more direct gunfire than you'd expect.
Over the last two weeks I re-watched all 8 previous Spider-Man films in preparation for this one. That's Sam Raimi/Tobey Maguire's trilogy, Amazing Spider-Man 1 & 2 with Andrew Garfield, Homecoming/Far From Home with Tom Holland, and finally Into the Spider-Verse. It was quite the marathon and having just gotten out of the theater from seeing No Way Home I can now confidently say that it was totally worth it. However, I will note that Into the Spider-Verse was not directly referenced, with only a very minor line of dialogue that could be considered an indirect shoutout, so if you're also considering going back to do some re-watching you can probably skip that one (although it's still fantastic and well worth a watch). As one final side note, for the last five or so years I have gone out of my way to avoid trailers. I think this always results in a better film going experience, but in this case I think it was a particularly beneficial decision, as I was genuinely surprised by characters/scenes that were undoubtedly spoiled in the trailers.
So... No Way Home. This is kind of a tough movie to rate because it is very much a mixed bag. It hits some home runs in certain areas, but there are some elements that fail to live up to the strength of Homecoming and Far From Home.
THE BAD: The instigating event with Dr. Strange (memory erase/obliviate spell) is a tonally weird scene. What ultimately turns into a crucial/deadly mistake is played as an extended joke, which was a bit off putting. In general, the humor has more misses than the previous films. Still plenty of hits, but just not quite as high of a percentage. Some of the emotional beats and dialogue feel more ham-fisted than I'd like. The pacing felt a bit off, with numerous scenes that seemed to drag unnecessarily. Some of that probably has to do with the need to establish a lot of new (or rather old) characters, which leads to lots of extended dialogue sequences. I feel like an extra action sequence or at least some trimming here and there could have been beneficial. Finally, I was very disappointed/frustrated with the post-credits scene. In fact, to even call it a post-credits scene is disingenuous. It was literally a trailer for the next MCU movie, which is not how post-credits scenes have typically been used and I definitely prefer them to be self-contained scenes rather than montages/clips from a future film (especially considering the fact that I avoid trailers).
THE GOOD: I recently wrote a review praising Into the Spider-Verse for successfully bringing the interdimensional antics of comic book storytelling to the big screen, so when this film attempts that same premise in live action, without the benefits and limitless possibilities of animated storytelling, it is frankly even more ambitious/impressive. And, despite all of my critiques, this film succeeds in that attempt. This is peak fan service. The callbacks. The cameos. The costumes. It's all there, and as an audience member all I could do is smile. The plot isn't anything to write home about, but it gets the job done in terms of setting up all of the types of big payoff moments that we were all hoping for. The highlights for me (all of which were big surprises) were definitely Charlie Cox's return as Matt Murdock/Daredevil, the reveal of Andrew Garfield and Tobey Maguire, and Andrew Garfield's dive to save MJ, giving him a chance to prevent a fellow Peter Parker from experiencing the same loss he did.
All things considered, this is a must watch for any Marvel/Spider-Man fan, and a solid enough film on its own merits, although perhaps not quite as well rounded as Tom Holland's previous two outings as the webslinger.
