Answer The Call

Absolutely brilliant! It took over thirty years and an extremely disappointing reboot, but we, the viewers have finally gotten our prodigal scion from the Ghostbusters franchise with the third chapter, Ghostbusters: Afterlife!

Helmed by Jason Reitman (Juno, Young Adult), noted son of original director Ivan, we pick up as time left off. Egon Spengler (the late, great Harold Ramis) has died, and his estranged daughter (Carrie Coon, “Fargo”), down on her luck and evicted from her home, takes her children, Trevor (Finn Wolfhard, “Stranger Things”) and Phoebe (Mckenna Grace, Annabelle Comes Home) to her reluctant inheritance — Egon’s old digs (and mountains of debt) in a backward town in Oklahoma… but there is more. Old haunts begin to resurrect; alliances once worn thin are retied, and the adventure of a lifetime, cliché though it is, will come to life… after death!

Let’s get this out of the way — this is a fantastic movie! Too often a long-awaited sequel is smothered by the familiarity of nostalgia, be it as far apart as Star Wars: Episode VII – The Force Awakens or even as short a wait as it took for The Mummy Returns, but in the case of Ghostbusters, we are given beats and references that are familiar, and yet, the paths taken are ever so different that it feels fresh, not stale. Expect the unexpected is the order of the day with this movie, and while that may stir fears of those who saw the reboot and left with a bad taste in their mouth (as I did), fear not — Reitman and his co-writer, Gil Kenan (Monster House) treats this film and franchise with the same reverence and respect that was given to films like Christopher Robin! It’s bizarrely one of the most heartwarming films of the year!

Further, whereas the reboot was drowning in poor acting (comedic and otherwise) and lousy visual effects, we are treated to excellent examples of both cases. I was surprised by the latter, as Reitman has never done a franchise blockbuster, or indeed, a blockbuster at all, but he is under the guiding hands of his father, and one could argue that his directing the (abysmal) visual effects-heavy Men, Women & Children only played in his favor! The ghosts in the film are genuinely scary and never once does this exude Robert Zemeckis-grade fakery. The acting is equally terrific, with excellent turns from Wolfhard and Grace, both breaking the norm of boring to cloying child actors and most endearing without being suffocating. Ms. Coon, previously known to many as Proxima Midnight (daughter to Thanos in Avengers: Infinity War), portrays the despair of single motherhood and parental estrangement with great skill, and when the time comes, brings the kindness and the scary sauce in equal measure. Also appearing is Paul Rudd (Ant-Man and the Wasp) as nerdy summer school teacher Mr. Grooberson, who brings his usual affability and kindly charm to the world of ghosts, but the real scene-stealing MVP is Logan Kim, in his debut movie, as a classmate of Phoebe’s known as Podcast. Unfazed by the events unfolding with some of the best jokes in the film, he’s a welcome addition to the fold!

Again, you have nothing to fear with this film — Ghostbusters: Afterlife is a sweet, loving third chapter in a long-cherished franchise that is every bit as great as the original films — dipping its toes into nostalgia without soaking its entire self in it, while still not betraying the (…heh-heh!) ghosts of its past. Jason Reitman has opened the door to a new chapter in his career as well, and I look forward to what becomes of that, in addition to this film!

“The franchise rights alone will make us rich beyond our wildest dreams!”

Peter Venkman (Bill Murray), “Ghostbusters” [1984]

We Live in a Self-Preservation Society

Theaters are (hopefully for reals this time I mean it damn it) reopening in spades, and while you have a movie made for the theatrical experience out this weekend as well — A Quiet Place: Part II — it’s well-matched by Disney’s latest live-action “remake,” Cruella. To be clear, this is neither a live-action remake of or live-action prequel to the animated movie or the 1996 live-action remake of that — consider it a soft reworking, much like Maleficent was.

The story, as portrayed by the film’s trailers, barely showcases a fifth of the movie, and I will not divulge it here, but what you get is a deliciously twisted, twisty story — not duplicitous, a problem that plagued tentpole movies like Atomic Blonde and Solo: A Star Wars Story, but twisty — you know not what to expect from this, trust me. Director Craig Gillespie (I, Tonya) brings to life a sharp, biting screenplay with word after word bringing to mind The Devil Wears Prada meets David Mamet, and his actors bring performances to match! Under less inspired hands, this would have starred Margot Robbie (ugh) and Meryl Streep (UGH), but Emma Stone (La-La Land), also serving as an Executive Producer on the film, goes from innocent-looking pickpocket to psychotic nutcase with brilliance — I’ve never seen her play an out-and-out villain before, and she may not have played one until now, but what a way to break into the crew! It should be mentioned here and now that despite the Disney tag, the character of Cruella is not nearly as humanized as Maleficent was (you can put down the Molotovs, PETA), but one can definitely tell there was once a lost child in the character.

The dueling Emma, Ms. Thompson (Sense & Sensibility), commands the screen as much as Cruella does — the auditorium fell silent when she delivered her first monologue; you could have heard a pin drop — she pours on the creepy sauce and doesn’t stop; truly one of the best ladies of the English cinema and stage! Joel Fry (Yesterday) and Paul Walter Hauser (Richard Jewell) play as Jasper and Horace, Cruella’s erstwhile partners-in-crime, and while Hauser is funny as the idiotic one, it’s surprisingly Fry who gives humanity to the henchman, serving as the conscience on the lady’s shoulder… make of that what you will!

As much as I don’t want to say the movie is an audio-visual feast, it’s an audio-visual feast! Filmed in digital with a color scheme and grain structure suggesting the original The Italian Job and peppered with songs of the era (the 1970’s) and then some, the film plays a sort of carnal, lustful look at the worlds of fashion and theft — how the other half lived and how beauty corrupts everyone… absolutely everyone.

Lush and sharp as an acid-soaked whip, Cruella is a terrific live-action reworking that gloriously removes the stain of Mulan (2020), and though it’s available as a $30 extra on Disney+, you owe it to the theaters of America (to say nothing of your senses) to see it on the biggest screen nearest you! Again, if you think you know what to expect from this movie, rest assured – you do not! As the DeVil herself says, there’s much more bad things coming!

Your Worst Nightmare

I wasted $30 on this. I wanted it to be great; to spite the Disney haters, but this is not the movie that will save Disney’s profitability — this isn’t even the movie that, if released theatrically, would save theatergoing! Two simple words best describe the live-action remake of Mulan — hot and mess.

You know the story; it’s basically the same, but unlike last year’s take on Lady and the Tramp, there is no weight to this adaptation, and what is remembered from the original is done so haphazardly — stoic performances all around (even from the venerable Donnie Yen and Rosalind Chao), a garbage-tier script with additions and subtractions that make little to no sense (Mushu was incredible, but a shapeshifting witch wasn’t?!) and when references to the vastly superior animated original are made, they’re done as cringe-worthy lines from the songs (but spoken — remember, musicals are out of the question!) or as instrumental phrases from the songs. FAIL.

Director Niki Caro (Whale Rider) is the sole MVP of this mess, making a lush visual feast out of a trashcan playbook, but that’s no reason to watch this, much less pony up $30. Hey, Disney, you can’t coast on the glories of the past forever — you put that line in your next live-action remake, I sue.

Quantum of Solace

First, a public service announcement — the pandemic sucks, but don’t be scared. It’s safe to go the the movies.

There’s been many demands for the eminent Christopher Nolan to be allowed a chance at directing a James Bond film, but for better or worse, he’s never been given the chance, so he’s done what every self-respecting spy movie-loving auteur should do — make one himself!

Taking time in his hands — literally — Nolan crafts a tale that is equal parts Casino Royale, The Terminator and, of course, his first masterpiece, Memento; that much I will say about the plot at hand — you’ll have to see it for yourself.

The performers are in as fine a form as they have ever been — John David Washington (BlackKklansman) is great as the story’s man with no name, equal parts Daniel Craig’s 007 and his father’s performance in The Magnificent Seven. Robert Pattinson (The Batman) has truly overcome his pseudo-stardom brought about by the Twilight franchise and as The Protagonist’s ally, Neil, is suave and tough while not appearing campy. Sir Kenneth Branagh (Death on the Nile), as the film’s nihilistic antagonist Andrei Sator, is genuinely horrifying — moreso than his performance in Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit. Sator is a villain that will cut off your head and piss down your neck. The real lynchpin in this equation is the vastly underrated Elizabeth Debicki (Guardians of the Galaxy: Vol. 2) as the lonely Katherine — fair skinned and flaxen-haired and trapped in a painful situation that others would sooner commit suicide to get out of.

Beautifully photographed, as always, on 70MM stock, this is a visual five-course dinner from DP Hoyte Van Hoytema (Spectre), just below Interstellar in scope but above Dunkirk in the realm of amazement. Oscar-winning composer Ludwig Göransson (The Mandalorian) takes up where Nolan regular Hans Zimmer left off with a rollicking score that brings to mind the work of Tom Tykwer, Reinhold Heil and Johnny Klimek on Cloud Atlas, not once feeling like an imitation of Zimmer.

While it won’t quite scratch the itch of those looking for a Christopher Nolan-directed 007 film, Tenet is still a damn fine movie that may well save the cinemagoing experience as we know it — it begs to be seen in the biggest screen available to you. As the marketing reminds us, time runs out — don’t wait for the Blu-ray.

Make ‘Em Laugh

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Awards season in Hollywood usually leaves many great films unrecognized by the legion of golden naked men — classics from David Lean’s Great Expectations through Bharat Nalluri’s The Man Who Invented Christmas are usually left with no nominations, at best one or two paltry bottom-tier recognitions. Though this year’s Academy Awards have proven to have outlived their usefulness, it’s a crying shame that for a ceremony that celebrates filmmaking, they didn’t recognize a loving tribute to their industry released two years ago — Stan & Ollie.

Centering on the sunset years of immortal comedy duo Stan Laurel & Oliver Hardy — cast note-perfectly with Steve Coogan (Philomena) and John C. Reilly (Chicago), respectively — the comics find themselves in a changing landscape of filmmaking and next to no way to find financing for their next feature film. In something of a last-ditch effort for both their careers and to gain said monies, they arrange a performance tour throughout England and Ireland, where their longevity as comedians and friends will be tested by way of opinion, both public and private.

Laurel & Hardy are an integral part of the American comedic zeitgeist — above Buster Keaton, neck-and-neck with Charlie Chaplin and just below the Marx Brothers, in my opinion — and to emulate them is not the same as knowing them. Fortunately, Coogan & Reilly sink effortlessly into their respective roles (to say nothing of makeup playing a great hand in the latter’s resemblance), giving life to the legends of laughter — in addition to their humor, you see Coogan showing the tragic side of Laurel, as he tries to raise money for the film and the spirits of the audience and his working relationship; the man can do it all. Reilly also shows sides unseen of Hardy — his past as a gambler, his reluctance to leave the duo’s work with Hal Roach (Danny Huston, Hitchcock), and an almost childlike demeanor, of which Laurel serves as his guiding conscience, a la Jimmy Cricket. On that note, it was also really quite surprising to see that, despite their films portraying Hardy as the boss of the equation, the opposite was true in real life, with Laurel writing the scripts and calling quite a few of the shots.

Two other major standouts in the picture are in the form of actresses Shirley Henderson (Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day) and Nina Arianda (Midnight in Paris), playing Lucy Hardy and Ida Laurel. Almost antagonists to each other (and each other’s spouses), they prove their mettle in the story when Ollie takes a turn for the worse. Arianda does the stern Russian expatriate that Ida is shown to be to a T, cherishing her and her husband’s past and not caring much for the future, while Henderson is the quiet, but extremely tough, American who simply wants the best for her marriage. I haven’t seen enough of Arianda’s work to comment on this in relation to her career, but Henderson is one of the most underrated actresses in English cinema today; she’s far more than “that lady who played Moaning Myrtle in Harry Potter,” and this movie proves it.

Director Jon S. Baird keeps the film moving at a clipping pace, which may irk viewers expecting more of a retrospective of the duo’s career, but even so, I never felt anything was glossed over or over-expounded in the film. Further, while a period piece, this isn’t a film that focuses more on the events of the time than the subject(s) at hand; this is their chronicle, and it doesn’t get lost in the set pieces, costumes or various other recreations.

Stan & Ollie was truly more deserving of awards contention on its release, but for whatever reason, come the season, it was shunned save for a sole Golden Globe nomination, and more’s the pity; to honor an industry’s past is to know it. In spite of this, like so many other great films about the art of filmmaking — see also: Hugo, Saving Mr. Banks, Singin In The Rain — it will still exist among a trove of other greats, always there for any aspiring filmmaker to see — I highly recommend it to anyone with such an open mind.

Just Around The Riverbend

There comes a time in every man’s and woman’s life that they wonder what the hell they’re doing and if people even care about them. I myself wonder that all the time; I don’t know a soul who doesn’t, and we all have ways of dealing with that. I take sanctuary in the nearest movie theater, and this week’s new release, an adaptation of Jack London’s The Call of the Wild, proved refreshing and cathartic — just the right thing at the right time.

The film chronicles the story of Buck, a large St. Bernard belonging to a California judge at his wit’s end of how to deal with him — until Buck is stolen, shipped off and sold as a work dog in Skagway, Alaska. There, a series of events that take place shape his life, and after a chance encounter with lonely traveler John Thornton (Harrison Ford, The Age of Adaline), they plot a trail to finish a long-forgotten journey.

Having not read the classic novel on which it is based, I had to judge Call on what I saw, and to me, it brings to mind the best of the Disney Renaissance, and that is in great part due to its director, Chris Sanders — noted animator and story collaborator on Disney films beginning with Beauty and the Beast [1991], he takes to this film his love for human-animal relationships that he experimented with in Lilo & Stitch and expanded in DreamWorks’ How To Train Your Dragon and now perfects with his live-action debut under the newly-reminted 20th Century Studios. Plus, his animation background doubtless helped in the creation of Buck as a digital character, which, while it seems a big pill to swallow based on the film’s trailers, he quickly grew on me as a living creature, while still maintaining an animated nature, but in the best sense — think not Robert Zemeckis, but Don Bluth.

As for the film’s actors, in particular Harrison Ford, this is unlike any film I’ve seen him be a part of — it must have been very close to his heart, as he’s truly in his element, among the vast landscapes, mountains and trees of British Columbia (standing in for Alaska and the Yukon Territory). He’s in as fine a form as I’ve seen him, bringing to mind the best of Robert Redford in Jeremiah Johnson — plus, his portrayal of Thornton, a man broken by loss who finds joy in man’s best friend, brings to the film a charming and a welcome change of pace from the almost guaranteed schlock that releases in the first quarter of the year. Supporting cast members include Omar Sy (Jurassic World) as the kindly mail carrier Perrault, who provides Buck with friendship of his kind and of humans at the first. Surprising me with his entrance was Dan Stevens (Beauty and the Beast [2017]), going full creepy as the film’s villain, and it’s a welcome, continued change of pace for himself and us viewers.

I was feeling jaded and rather uncaring when I went to the theater, fully prepared to despise The Call of the Wild, expecting a discount Togo (I had even planned to title this review “Nogo” in that event), but it’s a long time since I’ve been proven wrong at the cinema, and for that, I’m so very glad. It’s more than the usual man-and-his-dog movie; it’s a heartwarmer that comes at the right time of year, and from my point of view, it’s just what I needed at this moment, and you might, too — a life-affirming tale of finding your place in the world.

You’ll Find Enchantment Here

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The much-awaited Disney+ launched yesterday, and with it, a slew of exclusive films and shows – tucked among them is a live-action remake of 1955’s Lady and the Tramp — I know what you’re thinking; the inundation of live-action Disney remakes continues, but lest we forget, the original was a personal favorite of Walt Disney himself, and even among the herd of the unnecessary remakes (don’t see also: Guy Ritchie’s Aladdin, Jon Favreau’s The Lion King), this one’s a keeper, but not for the reasons you may expect.

Here is where I’d regurgitate the story in capsule form, but why bother when this is familiar territory? The fact of the matter is that there is very little new in this take on Lady and the Tramp, and the truth is, that’s wonderful. Too many of the Disney remakes have made pathetic attempts to overemphasize “modern qualities” in their characters (don’t see also: Emma Watson and/or Josh Gad in Beauty and the Beast), whereas in two of their best, The Jungle Book and Cinderella, it’s as much about honoring the past as it is looking to the future — rather like Walt’s vision, no?

Director Charlie Bean (The LEGO Ninjago Movie) makes his live-action debut with this film, playing it as straight as Sir Kenneth Branagh did with Cinderella, not once making fun of the film’s innocence and delight, and rather expounding on the emotion it brings the audience. His knowledge of CG animation also helps in the digital additions to the real animals portraying such characters — this isn’t like Tim Burton’s Dumbo (I know, I reviewed it well. I was wrong.); the animals in question look adorably natural to the viewer. Performances reflect that, too — Tessa Thompson (Avengers: Endgame) plays Lady warmly and to her own strengths, rather than either impersonating prior actress Barbara Luddy or trying to fix what isn’t broken. Justin Theroux (Wanderlust) does the same; he’s charming as Tramp, but also gives him a longing soul in his characterization. Additional canine cast members feature the note-perfectly cast Sam Elliot (A Star Is Born) as bumbling bloodhound Trusty and Janelle Monáe (Hidden Figures) taking up where Peggy Lee left off as Peg — she of the song He’s A Tramp. Rewritten as a girl is Scottish terrier Jock (now short for Jacqueline), aptly played by Scottish comedienne Ashley Jensen (After Life), and while it’s a needless change, it still works, and quite well. An additional animal character is Bull, played by Benedict Wong (Doctor Strange), finally getting to use his natural English accent — appropriately, as an English bulldog!

Human characters are in fine form, too — blind casting doesn’t work well, in my eyes, for period pieces, so it comes off a little bit Once Upon A Time for me to see it here, but the actors behind them are putting their hearts full of love into this, and that sells their performance, so such an argument is basically invalid. Lady’s owners, Jim Dear (Thomas Mann, The Highwaymen) and Darling (Kiersey Clemons, Hearts Beat Loud) are adorable as a couple who never stop falling in love with each other, while minor villain Aunt Sarah (Yvette Nicole Brown, Community) does the atypical crazy cat lady/dog hater to a T. The real lynchpin of the equation, though, comes from Oscar-winner F. Murray Abraham (Amadeus), not as a villain, but as Tony, the serenading owner of the iconic Italian restaurant where the classic “Bella Notte” scene takes place. It brought a genuine tear to my eye, as it will for anyone else viewing it!

As said previously, while the movie doesn’t deviate from the core storyline or the 1890’s setting, what changes are made are largely welcome in my eyes — among them (without spoiling), giving Tramp a backstory, just enough not to overstay its welcome and still explain, adding a definite villain (of sorts) and giving a lovely twist at the end of the second act that only fuels the lead-in to the conclusion. One change is a little perplexing to me; the reworking of Aunt Sarah’s villainous cats — how is it less offensive for them to be voiced by and performed as African American rather than Asian? It’s just mind-boggling to me; who stands to gain by such a change?

Still, with all being said, this version of Lady and the Tramp is wonderful fun and a loving reminder of simpler times. I know, it’s nothing new, but it’s kindly and charming; just the kind of tonic needed right now, and a lovely way to open up Disney+. I look forward to all the service has to offer now and in the future.

Rating: 4/5

The Lonely Man

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Edward Norton has been on something of a career resurgence lately. Almost a member of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, his then-pompous nature resulted in his dismissal from the franchise, to say nothing of being confined to a host of straight-to-video films for a few years. Now, in 2019, he brings himself back to the silver screen in front of and behind the camera for the first time since his brilliant 2000 debut, Keeping The Faith, with an adaptation of Jonathan Lethem’s noir novel Motherless Brooklyn, one that is a proud success, but not without a key misgiving.

In 1950’s New York, a Tourette’s-stricken man, Lionel Essrog (Norton), orphaned at a young age and a victim of abuse, is now a partner in a detective agency. The roof, such as it is, comes falling down on himself and his comrades when the leader of the pack, Frank Minna (Bruce Willis, Red) is murdered while on the hunt of a major case. Despite having little to go on, Lionel makes it his prerogative to bring Frank’s killers to justice, which entails a massively corrupt politician (Alec Baldwin, Glengarry Glen Ross), a victim of a housing crisis (Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Belle), a mysterious informant (Willem Dafoe, The Lighthouse) and a story that will blow the city’s darkest secrets wide-open.

While the credits say this film is adapted from Lethem’s novel, Norton’s screenplay takes one major liberty with the text — that of resetting the time in which the story is set. The book is a product of the time it was written in, the 1990s, so the change from then to the 50s is quite baffling, to say the least; it almost renders the film a generic clone of films like Chinatown, but just almost. Norton delivers on his vision both as director and actor — he portrays Lionel not as a tragedy deserving of pity, but as a brilliant mind unrecognized in his time, and he plays his disability with respect and accuracy, as evidenced by the fact he actually consulted the Tourette’s Association of America for instruction and their blessing on the project. He clearly isn’t in this project for a hammy grab at an Oscar. As director, Norton moves the film at a brisk, clipping pace, stopping to muse only where necessary, keeping the film moving tautly, even at a 2 hour 28 minutes runtime. One could also argue (and I will) that relocating the movie to the 1950s requires more work to recreate the time and is a harder route to take than a 1990s setting, and Norton’s crew goes above and beyond in their delivery of that – from time-accurate subway cars to a recreation of how Penn Station used to look, this is an eye-candy binge of the best caliber, far beyond just vintage clothing styles and historical vehicles.

The supporting cast is in as fine a form as ever — Dafoe continues to prove his worth to the acting profession in his character’s strength and duplicity; you’re never really sure of who or what he is, and too many great actors still can’t get duplicity right in their characterization. Baldwin plays villainous Moses Randolph as a sick sadist with no care for his fellow men — autobiographical, no?

Willis, another vastly underrated quantity of an actor, while not entirely present in the flesh in this film, is the driving force behind this story — what time he has on the screen is as a principled man who functions as Lionel’s moral compass; when he goes, Lionel has next to nothing to go on, both in emotions and his work, and when Ms. Mbatha-Raw appears as activist Laura Rose, he finds greater purpose in his growing love for her — Mbatha-Raw plays Laura as one of the few shining lights of truth in a dark, uncaring world, and far from either an atypical damsel in distress or femme fatale that plague noir films.

Motherless Brooklyn may not please fans of the novel owing to its time displacement, and its anti-sensationalist performances won’t get it any Oscar nods, but I feel its embellishments and changes bring it right between my two favorite freely adapted films — David Lean’s Great Expectations and Victor Fleming’s The Wizard of Oz. Further, I can safely say as a person with Asperger Syndrome who’s seen his fair share of ghoulish portrayals of disabilities (don’t see also: Cuba Gooding Jr., Radio; Jacob Tremblay, Wonder), this is probably the most respectful portrayal of a disabled person since Rain Man, and like that film, this doesn’t fall prey to tired tropes about such conditions. Bravo, Mr. Norton; your return is most welcome.

Rating: 5/5

Déja Vu

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De-aging an actor is something of a commonplace bit of tech work in today’s moviemaking culture, but it was the stuff dreams are made of as late as the early 2000’s, and in 1992, it was the very thing that shelved Darren Lemke’s script for a film titled Gemini Man. Directed by master filmmaker Ang Lee (Life of PiSense and Sensibility) (and  in no way related to a 70’s TV show of the same name,) the story centers around hitman-cum-retiree Henry Brogan (Will Smith, Men In Black), who is put on the run when his former contractors order him killed and send a threat his way — one he knows all too well, for the threat is his clone.

Let’s not beat about the bush — while it is set in the present day, this movie feels dated, with a lot of talking and unexplained plot, but in the best possible sense — it oozes all the elements of a classic 1990’s action thriller; think Face/Off meets GoldenEye. I love movies that echo a different time, whether literally, like The Artist or in spirit, like The Shape of Water. This plays into the movie’s innate history — grounded since its purchase, the film underwent many attempts at manifestation, under the batons of directors Tony Scott, Curtis Hanson and Joe Carnahan, to say nothing of a litany of stars attached, from Harrison Ford to Clint Eastwood, and each time, technology had not advanced to the point where an actor could be convincingly de-aged.

Fortunately, since then, the industry has been treated to multiple textbook examples of great de-aging in films, and Gemini Man is no exception, but an added twist comes into play from director Lee — having filmed his last movie, Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk in an unheard-of 120 frames per second 3D, he did just that again with this film. While its wide exhibition is largely shows at 60fps, it still works, and it works much better than Peter Jackson’s 48fps attempt with The Hobbit, as the high frame rate sells realism easier with a contemporary action film than it did with medieval fantasy. This is a cinematographic eye candy binge, going above a mere tech demo and giving the viewer plenty of bang for their bucks. For that matter, it isn’t just tech that sells the film; it has terrifically choreographed fight scenes, lush locales and camerawork that never makes for a sickening 3D experience, and all this from the man with a CV that goes from Sense & Sensibility to Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Bravo.

Those fearing another After Earth-style stoic cringefest from Will Smith need not worry; he knows that the role of Henry Brogan isn’t an Oscar worthy performance, but he doesn’t ham it up as either version of his character, which is always appreciated by this critic. Costars feature Mary Elizabeth Winstead (Live Free or Die Hard) as a defense operative colleague of Henry’s and Benedict Wong (Avengers: Endgame) as a resourceful pilot, but I largely feel they are unnecessary, and this could have easily been a “running man” style of film, with Henry left to fend for himself against himself. The villain of the film is played by Clive Owen (The International), who isn’t given much to work with, but he’s quite capable of being bad, and in a very different way which will be made apparent when you see the film.

Gemini Man is a fun movie that, while not anything revolutionary in its script, is just that in its visual affects and brilliant use of high frame rate photography. It begs to be seen in high frame rate 3D (which is now wisely being marketed as “3D+”), and again, while it feels like a movie of yesteryear, it most certainly doesn’t play that way.

Rating: 3.5/5

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Vindicated

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Left eye, motherf**ka!

SPOILERS WITHIN

In the backlogs of this blog, you will find a horrendously scathing review of 2017’s Spider-Man: Homecoming, which I found to be a dishonorable mess and a poor facsimile of a John Hughes movie. This month’s sequel, Spider-Man: Far From Home, is everything its predecessor was not, and I’ve never been prouder to say that!

As the events of Avengers: Endgame take their toll on the world in the year 2023, New York’s friendly neighborhood wall-crawler, alias Peter Parker (Tom Holland, The Current War), is seeking an escape, particularly in the wake of the sacrifice of Tony Stark, his mentor. Conveniently, a summer school trip across Europe brings such an option, until a call from Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson, The Hitman’s Bodyguard), an encounter with the enigmatic Quentin Beck/Mysterio (Jake Gyllenhaal, Source Code) and elemental beasts puts a different tack on Parker’s need for rest and relaxation, and makes who he can trust all the more difficult.

Homecoming was, I felt, a cinematic trainwreck as a result of six (credited) writers’ conflicting visions. Though I worried at first with the return of two writers from said film, Chris McKenna and Erik Sommers, they are the only ones credited, and wisely so — any more than three writers on a script, I feel, causes a movie’s main characters and objectives to be lost in the herd of subplots and gags. What’s more, this feels like a Marvel Studios film, which the first outing did not feel like at all — eschewing the emulation of the late John Hughes brings a freshness to the film that proves itself a worthy heir to the throne of Sam Raimi’s saga, one built by writers like David Koepp, Michael Chabon and Alvin Sargent. Notedly, the film is not bogged down by the preceding Avengers films, but it does not bury them in the past — rest assured, if you want to see this, you’ve got (at most) 23 movies to catch up on!

Performances are top-notch in this — Holland has truly become the best Spider-Man/Peter Parker on film, bringing all the vulnerability of a kid who just wants to be normal with the bravery of an Avenger — what else could be better? Gyllenhaal, once slated to replace Tobey McGuire in Spider-Man 2, is brilliant as Mysterio, a villain I was clamoring for to appear in this movie; welding together equal parts Syndrome from The Incredibles with his Donnie Darko persona, he’s totally unhinged and truly scary once he makes himself truly known to us. Peter’s one true love, MJ (Zendaya, The Greatest Showman), is much less of an Ally Sheedy in The Breakfast Club clone and is truly cute when she reveals her knowledge of Peter’s alter ego. The MCU’s erstwhile connecting thread, Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson, Chi-Raq), returns in a capacity akin to his appearance in Iron Man 2, but don’t let that deter you if you weren’t a fan of that film; he serves a much greater purpose in this than he did there, as does Maria Hill (Cobie Smulders, Delivery Man).

Spider-Man: Far From Home is, at long last, a truly wonderful outing for the eponymous web-slinger — shaking off all the dusty mess that was Homecoming, integrating a genuinely terrifying villain in Gyllenhaal’s Mysterio, and charming performances from Holland’s Peter Parker and his surrounding classmates, plus a few shocking revelations that mean one hell of a sequel is inbound. Bravo, Marvel Studios and Sony!

Rating: 4.5/5