The first Equalizer movie only worked as well as it did because of Denzel Washington. In the case of The Equalizer 2, though, not even he’s enough to save it. Washington is still the same ol’ former government agent/assassin who now helps people in need, mainly by inflicting grievous bodily harm on thugs and abusers. But this time, after a close friend is killed in an apparent robbery, it’s personal. But there are also storylines about a Holocaust survivor and a young kid who needs saving from gangs, so it gets a bit muddled and directionless before culminating in an over-long showdown in the middle of a hurricane. But because you know that Washington’s character isn’t really in any danger of getting killed or even seriously injured — which, by the way, was actually a plus in the previous film — and the bad guys will make stupid mistakes despite supposedly being highly trained government operatives, it just grows increasingly tedious by the minute as you wait for the foregone conclusion of an ending.
My Cultural Diet
I really enjoyed Siddharth Anand’s War, starring Hrithik Roshan; with its crazy action sequences and wild twists, it felt like a Bollywood version of a Mission: Impossible movie. So I was excited to see the two reunite for Fighter, which looked like it’d be the Bollywood Top Gun. Alas, Fighter is nowhere near as enjoyable as War. Or Top Gun, for that matter. Given that it’s an Indian film, wild tonal shifts are to be expected. Even so, Fighter puts you in a tailspin as it veers between war carnage and brutal terrorism, goofy “buddy film” hijinks, overwrought melodrama, and smoldering romance, with the requisite dance numbers thrown in. (For the record, nobody, and I mean nobody, smolders like Hrithik Roshan, especially when he’s walking in slow motion, which constitutes approximately a fourth of the nearly three-hour film.) What makes Fighter especially eyeroll-inducing, though, is that nearly all of its scenes are slathered in jingoism and over-the-top nationalism that just suck the fun right out of the film. Meanwhile, the surprisingly shoddy CGI and visual effects render the many dogfighting scenes more silly than thrilling.
The only reason this film works as well as it does is because of Denzel Washington. He brings the requisite amounts of gravitas and screen presence to make you believe in his haunted ex-super-deadly-guy who now seeks redemption by taking out a bunch of Russian gangsters in violent, blood-soaked fashion. Of course, being an Antoine Fuqua film, The Equalizer occasionally dips into hyper-stylized, CGI-enhanced silliness — which is a shame, because I much preferred the slow, seemingly mundane burn of the film’s first act — but even then, it remains eminently watchable because of Denzel. No one else could’ve pulled it off, of that I’m convinced.
Mamoru Oshii is best known for directing classic anime films like Urusei Yatsura 2: Beautiful Dreamer, Ghost in the Shell, and the Patlabor movies, but he’s also taken his hand at live-action over the years. I loved the Matrix-y Avalon years ago, and with its baroque, CGI-heavy visuals, Garm Wars: The Last Druid is cut from the same stylistic cloth. Which means that it has some occasionally stunning visuals even as it suffers from a bleary, washed out look that makes it look like one long Final Fantasy cutscene. The story’s an interesting-if-convoluted blend of Celtic mythology, sci-fi, and post-apocalyptic cyberpunk, but nobody — not even Lance Henriksen — is going to win any awards for their performances. (Kenji Kawai’s score, on the other hand, is lovely.) And after about 90 minutes, the film just sort of peters out, which is ironic given the epic final imagery. In the end, this one’s really just for Oshii diehards.
After 2007’s The Bourne Ultimatum, Matt Damon refused to make another Bourne movie without director Paul Greengrass, so Tony Gilroy — who wrote the first three Bourne movies — hopped into the director’s chair and enlisted Jeremy Renner and Rachel Weisz, with middling results. That’s no slight on Renner and Weisz, who do the best they can with an inert storyline that verges into the realm of sci-fi with its talk of genetically modified super-soldiers. There are flashes of a more interesting film here and there, and Renner and Weisz share some nice moments. In the end, however, The Bourne Legacy is just a pale imitation of the films that preceded it, from the hectic, rapid-fire editing and elaborate chase sequences to the ever-increasing array of shadowy government projects with boring-yet-ominous codenames.
At the risk of sounding like a lazy critic, is Asteroid City the most Wes Anderson-y thing that Wes Anderson has ever done? With its story within a story within a story structure, heavily affected performances, carefully controlled camerawork, and production design that pushes Anderson’s trademark style to the nth degree, I think all signs point to “Yes.” As with most Anderson movies, there’s a bit more going on beneath the surface; for starters, Asteroid City tries to raise questions about the extent to which fictional narratives can capture the elusive nature of truth. But it does so in such a stilted and affected manner that I question its efficacy. That said, I love the film’s production design and cinematography, which makes you feel like you’ve been dropped down inside a sun-bleached vintage postcard from the 1950s. And I’d probably watch an entire film about Montana and his cowboy band.
Given that Daniel James Brown’s The Boys in the Boat is one of my wife’s favorite books, it was inevitable that we’d see the movie adaptation in theaters. Directed by George Clooney, it’s a handsome and serviceable sports movie that hits many of the requisite tropes with its story about a team of underdogs who must rise above their differences and win the big championship — in this case, the 1936 Summer Olympics — for the sake of their country… and themselves. And insofar as that goes, The Boys in the Boat is decent enough. But it’s a surprisingly thin film, character-wise. A good sports movie gives all of the teammates moments to shine. The Boys in the Boat, however, focuses on just one of the titular boys (Joe Rantz, played by Callum Turner) to his teammates’ detriment. We learn little-to-nothing about any of them nor do we get any deep sense of their camaraderie, so there’s really no emotional investment in their struggles — or payoff for their triumphs.
Elf is one of those movies that feels impossible to review because of its position in our shared cultural consciousness concerning the Christmas season. We all know the story of Buddy the Elf, and his epic journey through the candy cane forest, the sea of swirly twirly gum drops, and the Lincoln Tunnel. Few actors have ever been so perfectly cast as Will Ferrell, though some of his antics are a bit less endearing now, twenty(!) years after the fact. But the movie’s true star is the North Pole’s immaculate production design, which perfectly captures the look and feel of those classic Rankin/Bass specials of my childhood. Here’s a fun bit of trivia: Terry Zwigoff (Ghost World) was originally offered the directing gig, but opted for Bad Santa instead. One can only imagine the alternate reality of a Zwigoff-directed Elf.
I remember the kerfuffle that surrounded Fight Club when it was released back in 1999, with detractors calling it perverse and fascist. It was a box office powder keg, with many criticizing its darkness even as they missed the point of the darkness. An obvious issue with watching a film that was so controversial so long ago is the extent to which the ensuing years have dulled its edges or weakened its bite. Given that it’s almost 25 years old, some aspects of Fight Club do feel dated, like its MTV-esque flashiness. But its critiques of consumerism, capitalism, and advertising are perhaps even more relevant in today’s FOMO-driven and influencer-saturated world. The same could also be said concerning its depiction of Tyler Durden’s philosophy, which starts off with some valid points about modern masculinity but inevitably descends into dehumanization and nihilism. (Indeed, the film almost feels nigh-prophetic in light of the recent rise of incel culture and hucksters and cult leaders like Andrew Tate who can often seem very Tyler Durden-esque, albeit with none of Brad Pitt’s charisma or humor.) There’s the unavoidable irony of a big-budget Hollywood movie with major stars critiquing consumerism, but Fight Club has plenty on its mind that’s still worth considering, even now in 2023.
I must’ve seen Batman Begins at least three times when it was in the theater. As a comic book nerd, I was so thrilled to see a comic book movie that took Batman seriously, especially after the Joel Schumacher trainwrecks in the late ’90s. Drawing inspiration from Frank Miller’s Batman: Year One, Batman Begins chronicles Bruce Wayne’s initial efforts as the Caped Crusader after traveling the world to understand the criminal mind; as such, it’s suitably dark and stylish. Watching it now, nearly twenty years after its release, some parts definitely hold up better than others, though. Not surprisingly, Michael Caine, Gary Oldman, and Morgan Freeman are excellent in their roles, and I loved the believable manner in which Bruce acquires his fantastical Batgear. Unfortunately, Nolan edits the life out of his action scenes and at times, the film’s darker tone takes on a self-important air. Also, for all of the film’s realistic approaches to Batman’s skills, training, equipment, etc., we never do see how Bruce and Alfred deal with the massive amounts of toxic guano that would certainly fill the Batcave.
Here’s the best way I can describe Takashi Yamazaki’s Godzilla Minus One, the 37th installation in the long-running movie monster franchise: it takes almost everything that’s beloved and celebrated about the Big G’s various incarnations, distills them down to their purest essence, and delivers a movie that’s filled with as much heart and conviction as it is kaijū spectacle. There’s none of the campiness that’s often associated with Godzilla movies, nor is there any cynicism or satire like 2016’s Shin Godzilla. Instead, it’s a deeply human and heartfelt story about guilt, sacrifice, and redemption that just so happens to also feature a giant lizard with atomic breath rampaging through post-WW2 Tokyo. Almost 70 years have passed since Godzilla roared onto the silver screen, and Godzilla Minus One is proof that he’s lost none of his potency as a cultural icon.
I often round up a half-star rating if for no other reason than I respect the fact that an artist put something out into the world for us to enjoy. Not so this time, because I’m annoyed that Gareth Edwards’ The Creator isn’t a better film. Much of the film’s hype centered on its visuals, and yes, The Creator contains some truly stunning visuals that evoke Blade Runner, were it set in Southeast Asia rather than dystopic Los Angeles. Impressively, Edwards shot his film for a “mere” $80 million, which just goes to show what’s achievable with a clear concept, good production design, and an expert approach to visual effects. Unfortunately, none of that translates to the storytelling, which is both heavy-handed and lazy, particularly when it comes to the burgeoning relationship between the two protagonists (a disillusioned American soldier and the robotic child super-weapon he’s supposed to kill), a relationship that Edwards really wants you to find moving and affecting. (And don’t get me started on the ham-fisted critique of American imperialism.) There are occasional flashes of brilliance — someone please make a movie that explores the theological ramifications of AI monks — but too much of The Creator feels like a string of gorgeous VFX shots in search of a good story, and ultimately left wanting.
Not to be confused with David Fincher or John Woo’s films, Choi Jae-hoon’s The Killer follows a hitman who’s roped into looking after his wife’s friend’s seventeen-year-old daughter. What should be an easy babysitting job turns dark, however, when the young girl gets lured into a sex trafficking ring, and the hitman must use his deadly skills to save her. Oh, and the film is a comedy… sort of. I watched this on Amazon Prime because I wanted a slick-looking action film, and there are, indeed, some very impressive action sequences. With his wardrobe, impeccable hair, and droll demeanor (which occasionally recalls “Beat” Takeshi Kitano), Jang Hyuk looks cooler than cool mowing down thugs, pimps, and other ne’er-do-wells. I just wish he was in a better film. In one scene, one of The Killer’s characters references Lee Jeong-beom’s The Man from Nowhere, arguably the best “deadly man protecting a young girl” movie ever made. I’m unsure if Choi Jae-hoon intended The Killer to be a parody of The Man from Nowhere or an attempt to create a similarly hard-boiled film, and that ambiguity is frustrating. In the end, The Killer’s tonal shifts and various implausibilities prove to be just a bit too much.
Back in 2009, Michael Jai White wrote and starred in Black Dynamite, an homage/parody to blaxploitation flicks like Black Belt Jones. Though uneven in places, Black Dynamite worked because it leaned hard into nostalgic campiness. I wish Outlaw Johnny Black, White’s homage/parody to spaghetti westerns, had done the same. But Django Unchained and Blazing Saddles this most definitely ain’t. Sure, I laughed several times, and the titular protagonist’s Gospel awakening was an interesting angle, but Outlaw Johnny Black is mostly a squandered opportunity due to its meandering storyline (which isn’t helped by its 2+ hour runtime) and aforementioned dearth of camp. (The shoddy special effects don’t count.) And for all of its racial humor and commentary (e.g., poking fun at Hollywood’s legacy of using non-indigenous actors for Native American roles), the film’s surprisingly toothless. This was clearly a passion project for White, and I’m sure the cast and crew had fun making it, but in this case, none of that resulted in a very good film.
Although I watched a few episodes of the cartoon series back in the ’90s, I don’t have any real strong attachment to Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I mainly watched Mutant Mayhem out of curiosity over its style of animation. There are bound to be comparisons to the Spider-Verse movies, but Mutant Mayhem’s style, though technically impressive in places, feels more unpolished and juvenile, as befitting the characters and subject matter. Between Mutant Mayhem, the Spider-Verse films, and Netflix’s Arcane, we’re entering a really cool new era that bridges the gap between traditional and CG animation, though I prefer those other two titles.
In keeping with the spirit of the spooky season, we watched this for a family movie night. It’s probably been 20+ years since I last watched The Sixth Sense, but it still held up quite well despite knowing the twist and all of the ways in which said twist is foreshadowed. (Indeed, a lot of the fun of watching the movie this time around was seeing my kids as the truth dawned on them. It was also fun exploring the film’s various clues in hindsight.) Much of that’s due to Haley Joel Osment’s central performance, which is just remarkable at times in both its honesty and emotion; the film simply would not work without it. Meanwhile, Bruce Willis turns in a wonderfully subdued performance. The Sixth Sense certainly lays on the melodrama and earnestness more thickly than the scares — which are still plenty effective — but thanks to the aforementioned performances, M. Night Shyamalan’s assured direction, and some excellent production design, it more than earns its emotional payoff.
After a man discovers that his iMac and the TV in his café are caught in a time loop, and thus display events from two minutes in the future and the past (respectively), his friends quickly figure out how to use that to their advantage. But as their temporal shenanigans grow increasingly convoluted, they risk running afoul of some local yakuza and possibly destabilizing the entire space-time continuum. I’m not sure how coherent its temporal logic is when compared to, say, Primer, but it’s hard not to admire Beyond the Infinite Two Minutes for its scrappy, low-budget spirit (the film was shot using smartphones and Tamagotchi-sized cameras) and intricate construction, as seen during the end credits. Clocking in at 70 minutes and presented as a single take, Junta Yamaguchi’s film doesn’t wear out its welcome. Indeed, you’ll probably spend much longer afterwards trying to figure out how Yamaguchi and his collaborators put it all together, and in just a week, no less.
It’s probably been fifteen years since I last watched Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg’s hilarious ode to zombie films — and romantic comedies. (Read my original review from 2004.) Wright’s “RomZomCom” stars Pegg as the titular Shaun, a hapless slacker who isn’t going anywhere in life or love. Until, that is, the zombie apocalypse forces him to step up and become a hero. Time has been quite kind to Shaun of the Dead. Although it’s filled with the sort of frenetic editing that typified ’00s cinema, Shaun of the Dead has enough wit and cleverness for a dozen films, horror or otherwise. What’s more, Pegg and co-star Nick Frost — who plays Shaun’s even slackier best friend Ed — have the sort of easy onscreen chemistry that’s only found in the very best comedic duos. (I was fortunate enough to see this on the big screen via The Ross Theater’s first annual Fright Fest.)
My son calls Mad Max: Fury Road the craziest, weirdest movie he’s ever seen. Granted, he’s only 15, but he’s not necessarily wrong. Mad Max: Fury Road is completely over-the-top in almost every way possible, from the extremely dystopian setting to the outrageous characters to the jaw-dropping and immaculately choreographed action sequences. (Once again, I have to ask: How did nobody die during the making of this movie?) Also, I can’t get over how beautiful it all looks. The deeply saturated desert setting (most of the film was shot in Namibia’s Dorob National Park) is virtually a character itself, but even the countless explosions and car crashes are next-level eye candy that director George Miller injects directly into your brain’s visual cortex. That said, the film’s real trick is that, all mind-blowing visuals aside, its story still hits hard on a primal level, be it Max’s slow return to humanity, Furiosa’s determination, or Nux’s redemption. All in all, just a modern marvel of a film.
On paper, mixing Batman and H.P. Lovecraft seems like a total no-brainer. And if you set it in the 1920s, and feature the Caped Crusader battling ancient cults and supernatural foes with era-appropriate Bat-gadgets, then so much the better. Batman: The Doom That Came to Gotham — which is based on a comic miniseries from the early ’00s — has all of that. Unfortunately, however, it also tries to cram way too much into its 90 minutes, from the never-ending parade of Batman friends and foes (some of whom appear as alternate versions of themselves) to the convoluted retconning of Gotham City’s history to the overwrought dialog filled with old time-y phrases and oodles of Lovecraft references. And that’s to say nothing of the increasingly bizarre final act, which keeps throwing things at you (e.g., body horror, occult magick, more body horror) until it all just kind of falls apart. Note: If you want to watch a supernatural take on Batman, then you may be better served by 2017’s Justice League Dark.