Category Archives: Past

Film Review: Pompo the Cinephile – 2021

Director(s)Takayuki Hirao
Principal CastHiroya Shimizu as Gene
Rinka Ôtani as Natalie
Konomi Kohara as Pompo
Akio Ootsuka as Martin
Release Date2021
Language(s)Japanese
Running Time 90 minutes
Report CardClick to go to Review TLDR/Summary

NOTE: This is a new release and the review is based off a theatre viewing. This means the review won’t feature common elements like visual analysis, extended theme analysis, or long-form discussions of the cinematic techniques being used. Once I am able to get a copy of the movie to watch, pause, analyze, and get stills from the review will be updated to match the current site’s standard.

In Nyallywood (aka Hollywood), the producer who reigns supreme is Pompo, an exuberant young woman with a flair for dramatic entrances and an eye for nabbing the best talent to surround her; her B-movies are a thing of legend and accrue rewards and adulation all around. Her assistant, Gene, in shocking comparison to Pompo, is a tired looking, unenergetic husk whose only saving grace seems to be his intensive love of cinema. Far from just being part of his job, Gene uses cinema as his primary frame for interacting with the world at large around him, spending his free time poring over copious notes he’s taken regarding the production process or watching and absorbing films at breakneck pace.

Consequently, even in his day-to-day outside of the studio, he finds himself framing the world as a director would. While travelling to an routine casting session, he notices a young woman running across the street. As she playfully jumps past a puddle, his pupil transforms into a camera lens, showing us how the seemingly small moment becomes something cinematic; time slows down and his brain starts doing post-production (color grading) to the moment of jubilation, applying colors and filters to the everyday moment thereby rendering it cinematic. A simple jump – a split moment – becomes frozen in time and becomes something greater than it is.

When he finally makes it to the audition area, he runs past the girl once again; this time her face is covered with a miasma of despair – a sharp contrast to before. As the two cross one another’s paths, discordant jump cuts are used to create a stutter effect- time breaks as the two seemingly unrelated persons enter one another’s space. It becomes clear that their paths are meant to cross, even though Pompo informs Gene that the young woman, Natalie, was rejected from the studio’s current film due to an inability to act.

But inability in the moment does not entail incapacity in general, and Pompo decides to spring a surprise on Gene: she offers him the chance to serve as director for her new script, a non-B effort titled Maister. The script – a story of an elderly hardened man learning how to embrace the world via a chance encounter with a young, passionate woman – immediately captivates Gene who finds himself completely enamored with the characters in spite of the generic trappings of the narrative. To his surprise, Pompo reveals that the part of the heroine is to be played by none other than Natalie. Even though the aspiring ingenue’s test performance lacked, a certain aura she possessed captivated Pompo to the point of writing the role in this script explicitly for her; like Gene, Pompo can’t help but take the inspiration from the everyday and transform it into something cinematic.

Thus, Gene is set to direct his first feature film. Suddenly, the never-ending series of notes he’s taken on sets up till now become a template for him to traverse down the path to becoming a full-fledged director. However what opposes him is not a direct antagonist or series of enemies to be defeated but the process of creation itself; getting shots to work in spite of production issues, keeping true to the vision of the script while heeding to cinematic limits, conveying key story beats without relying on excessive exposition, and finding a way to edit down the final product in spite of a wealth of gorgeous footage become the obstacles that Gene and his crew find themselves tackling.

By structuring the film proper around the mechanics of the film-making process, director Takayuki Hirao is able to get the viewer to directly consider each and every choice made. There’s a direct focus on the nature of what makes a good film: decisions related to acting, shot composition (ex: wide shots vs close-ups), and editing are brought up directly by the characters as they discuss how to overcome the various hurdles they encounter. By having the characters walk the audience through the logistics of their decision-making, the film is able to get viewers to subjectively tap into and become involved with the film in a dialogue. Our attention is drawn to the nature of cinematic technique and its intended purpose, so as the film starts to become more “overtly” stylized, it becomes astoundingly clear that even the most seemingly minute decision is being done to engender a certain feeling.

Match cuts (both within Pompo and between Pompo and Maister ), jump cuts, rewinding/fast-forwarding footage within the film proper to explain parallel character decisions, using reflective surfaces in the background to juxtapose characters’ thoughts versus their actions, and moving the camera back from supposed establishing shots to reveal said scenes are nothing more than character perspectives or scenes being projected on the big screen reveal the liminal space between cinema and memory. Not since the works of Satoshi Kon (Millennium Actress, Perfect Blue) has an animated film so effectively tapped into the idea of cinema as a dream-machine; for the characters this dream is both literal – they want to produce and create films for audiences – but is also metaphorical as these same films are expressions of their innermost desires come to life, rendered on a canvas that promises infinite possibilities.

As Gene shoots Meister, he finds that his own life not only serves as a template for how he approaches the content but that the content then, almost as if in response, becomes a guiding force for him to evaluate and progress within his own life; life and art become two mutually reinforcing sides, generating a new creative order. While there are similar works like Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken! or Shirobako that also navigate the process of creatives attempting to take their fanaticism to the level of art, what separates and elevates Pompo and its themes is the level of commitment at making the fictional work its about, Maister, as polished and entertaining as the film proper. Even though we’re only privy to brief snippets, the scenes chosen are all pivotal in how they reveal the underpinnings of the story proper while conveying a completely distinct tale that’s enthralling all on it’s own. It’s one thing to cheer on a character as they set out to pursue their dreams, but by making the painful, brutal costs and transcendent rewards of their efforts so transparent, Pompo is able to hammer its points home.

REPORT CARD

TLDRPompo the Cinephile is a love letter to cinema and animation that emphatically demonstrates the ethereal powers of moving images. The film’s unabashed enthusiasm and wit makes it endlessly entertaining and endearing for anyone who’s ever “found” themselves in a work of art.
Rating10/10
GradeA+

Go to Page 2  for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Film Review: Dual – 2022

Director(s)Riley Stearns
Principal CastKaren Gillan as Sarah / Sarah’s Double
Aaron Paul as Trent
Beulah Koale as Peter
Maija Paunio as Sarah’s Mother
Release Date2022
Language(s)English
Running Time 95 minutes
Report CardClick to go to Review TLDR/Summary

NOTE: This is a new release and the review is based off a theatre viewing. This means the review won’t feature common elements like visual analysis, extended theme analysis, or long-form discussions of the cinematic techniques being used. Once I am able to get a copy of the movie to watch, pause, analyze, and get stills from the review will be updated to match the current site’s standard.

A young man (Robert Michaels) rushes to a table stacked with weapons. He struggles to select one of them but during his moment of indecision an arrow flies past him. While he may be indecisive in picking his combat option, his opponent is not. A crowd cheers to the violence; this duel is a public spectacle.

The young man finally decides to act, evades the arrows that are fired at him, and moves towards his opponent before proceeding to butcher the latter with a knife. The camera moves to the corpse which is identical to the young man we’ve been cheering for; this has been a fight between doppelgangers. An announcer comes forward to congratulate the victor and asks him whether or not he’s the original or double. The young man responds that he’s the double and he is subsequently crowned the “true” Robert.

Thus, the stakes are set. In this world, doubles of persons exist and there are Battle Royale like duels between them to determine which one of them can stake their claim to being the “real” person in question. Identity, far from being a given, is a social marker that must be fought for. Furthermore, the doubles are well-defined, empathetic persons who seek to survive and not the pale imitations of an original one might expect. Dual intentionally opens from the perspective of the double instead of the original Robert to position the viewer behind them; we naturally cheer for the character we initially identify with and so when it’s revealed that they’re a “double” who has “stolen” their life from an original, our empathy is turned on its head. While it seems proper to cheer for someone fighting for their life, a double fighting their original in an attempt to subsume the latter’s life and identity along with it presents its own set of ethical issues. The same action becomes framed from two perspectives one of which is predicated on the idea of one owning their own identity and the other on the idea of one owning their own life; the schism between life and identity is what Dual seeks to explore.

The story cuts from the newly crowned Robert, to a young woman, Sarah (Karen Gillan), who seems to be living her worst life. Her apartment is saturated in depressing blues that make telling the time of day impossible. Her mom (Maija Paunio) constantly calls and messages her, interrupting any attempt at alone time. Her partner, Peter (Beulah Koale) is off at work and seems to be uninterested in conversing with her. Her only form of interaction with the world comes from the blue screens of her phone and laptop illuminating her face. It’s clear that Sarah is alienated; there’s no vitality to be found as she passively engages with a world that seems to ignore her angst.

But she soon learns that she’s contracted a terminal disease and is guaranteed by her doctor that the chances of surviving are 0%. Consequently, Sarah is offered an opportunity to replicate herself and create a double to live on in her place after her passing. The procedure is marketed a gift to be given by the soon-to-be deceased to their living friends and family as a way of taping over the grieving process; it’s fine that your special someone has died because you can live with a clone formed from their DNA.

Despite being unable to afford the procedure herself, Sarah signs on when she’s informed that her double, upon assuming the role of “Sarah” on passing, would then be responsible for the payment plan responsible for their genesis. Sarah has nothing to worry about because she’ll be dead. Sold on the idea, she signs on and meets her double, aptly named “Sarah’s Double” soon after.

While the latter questions her source on “their” shared interests and hobbies in an attempt to better emulate her, it becomes apparent Sarah and her double are not the peas in a pod promised by the advert. The double seems to have opposite tastes in food, entertainment, and aesthetic style. If she’s supposed to serve as a stand-in for Sarah’s friends and family, she seems to be a poor fit. Yet, Sarah’s mother and Peter seem more than okay with Sarah’s Double, reacting to her with a sense of warmth and energy that fly in direct contrast to the treatment Sarah had to deal with. She comes to realize that far from taking her place upon death, her double has decided to make the transition early and take over as fast as possible.

Thankfully, or so she thinks, Sarah learns that her incurable terminal illness has somehow gone into remission. As a result, she’s allowed to put in a request to decommission her double. However, her double appeals under a newfound amendment to the constitution to “stay” and continue living as “Sarah”. Consequently, the original Sarah is locked into a duel to the death for the privilege of existing as “Sarah”. The opening becomes reframed as a death knell; if doubles are capable of winning in brutal fashion and celebrated for doing so, then the outgoing and more energetic Sarah’s double seems more than certain of defeating the lethargic, unmotivated Sarah.

By channeling the essence of Yorgos Lanthimos’s (Dogtooth, The Lobster) brand of surreal humor – deadpan delivery of serious lines meant to call attention to the absurd nature of the situation with accompanying stoic reactions – director Riley Stearns forces the viewer to focus on the nature of the identity problem inherent to Dual instead of the logistics or theatrics of the situation. This is a story that’s more curious on the logic by which identity can be stripped and gifted by personal, social, and legal entities, revealing the contingencies upon which identity furnishes itself. As Sarah is forced to deal with her impending duel, she’s’ made to reckon with the dual nature of the lives her double and her live.

She starts as a woman sentenced to death who willfully accepts the same and decides to live by extension through a double. Her double does what she’s advertised to do and brings a love and warmth to Sarah’s loved ones that Sarah herself finds herself unable of producing. Upon realizing that she’ll survive, Sarah tries to kill via decommission her double and “take back” her life, a life which we know is in sharp contrast to the one she had lived up to the point. Once Sarah is challenged to the duel, she starts training to survive a battle to death for a life with people who want nothing to do with her as she is; in this vein, the identarian battle takes on a metaphysical character wherein Sarah’s double comes to stand-in as Sarah’s persona. Sarah is forced to tackle the source of her alienation – the disjunct between what she is and what she thinks she ought to be – in a literal battle.

However, while the film excels at demonstrating how Sarah navigates the contours of her personal life, it falters when it comes to connecting those aspects of her identity to the overarching bureaucratic forces that she’s forced to navigate. One of the running themes of the film is how Sarah’s day-to-day existence is structured around capitalistic institutions: the treatment she pays for is expensive and relies on a perverted extended payment plan, a lawyer to represent her, monthly fees to her double until the time of the duel, monthly payments to her trainer Trent (Aaron Paul), on top of everyday bills. Yet, the film never opts to show how she makes money, opting to tell the viewer about her financial struggles instead of showing or embellishing them. These moments would have not only given context to her struggles but would have also helped tie the larger thematic movements of the film with Sarah’s personal journey. This lack of cohesion between the minor and major aspects of Sarah’s life make the subversive gestures Dual tends towards less poignant. Instead of appreciating the way the narrative unfolds, this lack of an obvious “bigger” point might frustrate viewers who don’t want to grapple with the sardonic presentation the film opts for.

REPORT CARD

TLDRRiley Stearns’s Dual might miss the mark for viewers looking for a clear, hefty film with messages to gleam through, as its exploration of a battle between original persons fighting their clones for the former’s identity takes on a cerebral, sardonic tone that operates via subversion and suggestion, but it should satisfy those viewers attuned to the absurdist comedic leanings of Yorgos Lanthimos’s works.
Rating8.6/10
GradeB+

Go to Page 2  for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Film Review: Twilight – 2008

Director(s)Catherine Hardwicke
Principal CastKristen Stewart as Bella Swan
Robert Pattinson as Edward Cullen
Billy Burke as Charlie Swan
Taylor Lautner as Jacob Black
Release Date2008
Language(s)English
Running Time 121 minutes
Report CardClick to go to Review TLDR/Summary

The film opens on two stories that intertwine, that of a young woman and that of a doe. While the doe drinks from a stream, the young woman, Bella (Kristen Stewart), notes that while she’s never given death much of a thought, dying in the place of a loved one wouldn’t be a bad way to go. Suddenly, the doe notices that its peaceful drinking area is no longer safe. We cut to a point-of-view shot – a a human-shaped hunter has appeared and death is staring the woodland creature down. Though it tries to run, the incredibly fast hunter catches it. Death has come.

The connection between the two tales is apparent: both feature a creature facing an inevitable end. If the doe is a stand-in for Bella, which loved one is it dying in the place of? If Bella is fated to be like the doe, then what exactly is hunting her? This deadly juxtaposition sets the tone for what’s to come. Bright light fills the screen and we’re transported from the woods to the deserts of Phoenix.


Bella begins to narrate again, describing the journey leading up to her confrontation with death. She explains that her mother is planning on going on the road with a new partner. As a result, Bella’s moving from sunny Phoenix, Arizona to cloudy, rainy Forks, Washington to stay with her father, Charlie (Billy Burke), the police chief of the town.

However, just because her new environment is cold and unappealing doesn’t mean that the people inhabiting it are; Bella finds herself immediately accepted by the townsfolk. Her father’s peers fondly remember her from childhood visits and her fellow classmates at school, especially the young men, are desperate to make acquaintances with a newfound person; Forks is a small town with a sparse population so new faces are rare.

But the Cullens, a family of five adopted siblings, each with immaculate good looks and pale skin, ignores Bella, giving her a cold shoulder. The lack of attention provokes an interest; Bella is immediately entranced by the one member of the family, Edward (Robert Pattinson), who seems equally interested in her.

Yet, it appears that his interest is one rooted in antagonism. As Bella makes her way into biology, the fan at the front of the room blows against her. Edward visibly grabs his face, gagging in response to Bella’s scent. The tension becomes worse after the teacher has Bella sit next to Edward to serve as his lab partner. His disgusted facial reactions prompt Bella to check her own body odor. Far from wanting to be her friend, Edward seems offended by her very presence.

After class he leaves to go to the front office in an attempt to get switched out of Bella’s class but is informed that there are no other vacancies. The severe rejection boggles Bella; she can’t fathom why Edward seems so desperate to avoid her. Her suspicions only grow after Edward skips school for a few days. Would he really skip out just to avoid having to deal with her in any capacity?

In spite of this, Edward comes to occupy Bella’s thoughts. She can’t get him out of his head and his increasingly erratic decisions only causes her to become more obsessed with what’s provoking such a strong response from him. Instead of hanging out with newfound friends who seem genuinely interested in her, Bella becomes determined to figure out the mystery behind Edward, a mystery that only becomes more confusing as Edward decides to randomly warm up to her after the cold introduction.

Her search and the implications behind what she discovers bifurcates the film into two neat halves; the first half follows Bella as she unravels Edward’s secrets and grows to fall in love with him, and the second half follows her as she deals with the consequences of her discoveries, both of Edward and of her feelings.

Bella’s journey is presented primarily from her point-of-view; she’s constantly narrating her inner thoughts and the film often cuts to her dreams and subjective visions. This helps ground the more melodramatic moments of her journey; the rush to die for love is a sentiment that exists as extremity but in the context of a young woman’s first romantic encounter, the melodramatic intensity of every related moment is understandable. The story’s supernatural backdrop only accentuates these moments, giving the emotional intensity Bella’s going through a fitting real-world analog to deal with.

Unfortunately, the film doesn’t meld these layers cohesively against one another during the visceral moments. Inconsistent and comic visual effects undercut the severity of the supernatural forces encroaching Bella’s life. It’s hard to take threats seriously when the effects render what should be a threatening situation into a comedic one. Consequently, the melodramatic nature of the young couple’s feelings for one another feels more absurd than it does heightened.

Furthermore, the acting by the leads often feels discordant with the emotions that their characters are trying to hint at. This is partially a problem that stems from the script which adapts most of the book’s dialogue, dialogue which very few actors could possibly render in cohesive let alone great fashion, but it definitely would have helped if some of the facial expressions matched up with the intention behind the dialogue.

In spite of this, Twilight never feels like its settling or meandering. Even when the film swings and misses in stellar fashion, the attempt can be appreciated. The fantasy the movie provides and takes Bella through can be comprehended even though it’s not nearly as appealing as Bella makes it out to be.

REPORT CARD

TLDRTwilight’s tale of intense passions and supernatural romance may be overbearing at times, but the enthusiasm by which it approaches its subject matter makes it more than endearing. Though some of the visual and acting choices don’t land, the intent behind the fantasy of the story is comprehensible and fans of it will be more than satisfied with the offering.
Rating7.2/10
GradeC+

Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Film Review: The Hitman’s Bodyguard – 2017

Director(s)Patrick Hughes
Principal CastRyan Reynolds as Michael Bryce
Samuel L. Jackson as Darius Kincaid
Élodie Yung as Amelia Roussel
Gary Oldman as Vladislav Dukhovich
Salma Hayek as Sonia Kincaid
Release Date2017
Language(s)English
Running Time 118 minutes
Report CardClick to go to Review TLDR/Summary

The film opens with a series of split-screen shots depicting the routine of Michael (Ryan Reynolds), a private bodyguard for the wealthy and powerful. He puts on his watch, picks out a suit from his collection, drinks some coffee, gets his weapons, and kisses his partner, Amelia (Élodie Yung) on the cheek before departing his scenic abode. The split-screen shots demonstrate the rigid order he lives his life by; every moment is part of an elaborately planned sequence.

He picks up his client, Takashi (Tsuwayuki Saotome) and proceeds on pace for a secure delivery. Takashi gets on his plane and Michael waves him off with a smile. But right as the plane is about to depart, Takashi is shot and murdered.

Despite all precautions, Michael finds himself with a client down; he’s in shock. While his men run around him to take hold of the situation, Michael stares dumbfounded, unable to come to terms with his failure. Two years pass and his expression remains the same – the weight of his past remains. He escorts an drug-addled client in dejected fashion; clearly he’s still good at his job, but the loss of a client has certainly hurt his reputation as security detail, so he’s forced to take on much worse clientele.

Michael (Ryan Gosling) agrees to Amelia’s (Élodie Yung) deal to protect Kincaid (Samuel L. Jackson).

While Michael tends to his mundane everyday life, his ex-girlfriend and current Interpol agent, Amelia, is tasked with escorting a notorious hitman, Darius Kincaid (Samuel L. Jackson), to the International Criminal Court to give witness testimony against Vladislav Dukhovich (Gary Oldman), the dictator of Belarus charged with counts of genocide and ethnic cleansing. But on their way to the court, Amelia’s convoy is attacked; far from being a secret, their movements have been leaked to outside attackers. Amelia and Kincaid momentarily team up to get out of the area, but now they must find a way to get to the court without Interpol’s help. With no else left to turn to, Ameilia phones Michael and asks him to help transport Kincaid.

Michael is initially reluctant to help. On one level, he doesn’t want to deal with Amelia due to their break-up. On another level, due to the nature of his work, he’s found himself on the opposite side of Kincaid many times, often having to keep his clients protected from the hitman. There’s a clear antagonism present in the group. But Amelia promises to help reinstate Michael’s company’s security rating through her government connections if he gets Darius to the court on time to testify. Thus, the reluctant duo between hitman and bodyguard is born.

Unfortunately, the plot that follows goes exactly as one would expect: a love-hate relationship is formed by the duo who ribs and endears themselves to one another over the course of their trip all while they survive increasingly elaborate attacks by Dukovich’s party. Though disappointing, the narrative would be fine if it at least served as a vehicle for stylized action sequences or entertaining character moments, but none of these moments ever bear fruit because the movie would rather tell than show.

The visual creativity from the opening never happens again which is a shame because the primary antagonism between Michael and Kincaid is how they orient themselves towards planning. While Michael is rigid and disciplined, Kincaid is very much the opposite, opting to play situations based on how they proceed in the moment. Consequently, when the character’s find themselves dealing with a threatening situation, they tend to have different reactions; Michael thinks something out and tries to stick by the book while Kincaid goes for the clearest immediate option available. Instead of demonstrating this visually like he does in the opening, perhaps by shooting Michael’s character with split-screen shots to showcase the sequential planning and Kincaid’s character with jump cuts to demonstrate the haphazard movement, director Patrick Hughes opts for standard coverage of the duo as they deal with their problems. We don’t get to see the difference between the characters manifest in poignant fashion and are forced to gleam the essence of their relationship through their conversations.

This proves to be an issue because most of the dialogue is insipid and insists on the basest humor to get a laugh. Ryan Gosling and Samuel L. Jackson may be talented actors, but there’s only so much they can do when most of their conversations end in a punchline about smelling like ass. This type of humor is uninspiring on its own but contributes to a serious tonal whiplash when the story jumps from these jokes to scenes of the primary antagonist planning/committing genocide and genocide-related activities.

All of this culminates in a general feeling of disengagement. There’s nothing to get invested in. The characters are placeholders for the story that give their actors little room to breathe life into the narrative. The jokes are indexed to the lowest common denominator of humor and undercut any sense of tension or gravitas. Even though the action scenes are shot competently and give a clear sense of what’s going on, you don’t care because there’s nothing to cling onto.

REPORT CARD

TLDRThe Hitman’s Bodyguard is a movie that lacks any sense of personality or identity worth investing in. The aggregation of safe buddy-cop story beats provides very little entertainment as even the most minute action is predictable. Even the comedic stylings of the leading duo can’t give the movie a pulse as the script insists on having them repeat the worst punchlines to jokes repeatedly.
RatingD
Grade5.5/10

Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Film Review: The Avengers – 2012

Director(s)Joss Whedon
Principal CastRobert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark / Iron Man
Chris Evans as Steve Rogers / Captain America

Tom Hiddleston as Loki
Samuel L. Jackson as Nick Fury

Mark Ruffalo as Bruce Banner / Hulk
Chris Hemsworth as Thor
Scarlett Johansson as Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow
Jeremy Renner as Clint Barton / Hawkeye
Release Date2012
Language(s)English
Running Time 143 minutes
Report CardClick to go to Review TLDR/Summary

The title sequence starts with the Marvel logo prominently in the center of the screen. The camera pulls back from the logo which becomes encompassed by blue flames, flames which are revealed to be the core of the Tesseract, the cosmic item recovered by S.H.I.E.L.D in Captain America: The First Avenger. The screen fades to black.

A voice mentions that the “Tesseract has awakened” on Earth. The camera pans up an elaborate, alien staircase where a hooded creature bows to an unseen figure. The creature, the narrator from earlier, continues and claims that an informant who is intimately aware with the cube will claim it for them. The screen fades to black.

The informant in question is handed a glowing scepter. Another fade to black.

Then an army of armored alien creatures, the Chituari, start to roar as the narrator guarantees that the informant will take the Earth as compensation for retrieving the cube, using the army of Chituari to take control. Upon retrieving the cube, the unseen figure will rule the universe. A final fade to black.

Once again, the Tesseract takes center stage and the camera starts to push into it. This is an opening that makes it clear from the get-go: The Avengers is more epic than the films that came before. The rhythmic fades to black induce a sense of a grandiose force building up. The alien world and set-piece confirms that this story is taking place against a much grander backdrop. As the camera pushes in through the Tesseract, to the planet of Earth it becomes clear that worlds are going to collide.

A S.H.I.E.L.D base is being evacuated as a helicopter arrives at the facility. Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) steps out and begins to head into the building that everyone else is running out of. He runs down to the testing facility overseen by Dr. Selvig (Stellan Skarsgård) where tests are being run on the Tesseract. Selvig explains that Tesseract is active and is taking action of its own accord, setting off fluctuations and discharges as it pleases. Clint (Jeremy Renner), the agent overseeing the experiments, tells Fury that any disruption on display is not due to any party on “this” side. Suddenly, it becomes clear. If the Tesseract is a doorway, then it reasons that it can be opened from two sides. One side might be on Earth, but the other side is somewhere else entirely and is raring to invade the planet.

On cue, the Tesseract discharges a bright blue light, opening a portal to another location. The informant from earlier makes their appearance in spectacular fashion, completely shifting the feeling of the room. We cut to a close-up and learn that this intruder is none other than Loki (Tom Hiddleston), Thor’s (Chris Hemsworth) brother who we had been led to believe was dead at the end of Thor. The questions begin to pile up: How did Loki survive? Who hired him? Why do they want the Tesseract so badly?

But Loki’s not concerned with giving any answers, and he quickly takes charge of the situation, blasting agents with his scepter and laying waste to the highly, secure government building. He turns his scepter to both Selvig and Clint’s chests and takes control of their minds; they switch allegiances immediately. Fury is easily handled and the Tesseract is stolen from the premises but not before the cube releases one last burst of energy, destroying the facility in its entirety.

For the first time in the franchise, Fury is thoroughly trounced and left beaten. He declares an emergency and tells his agents to begin looking for the cube. Loki’s attack means that the world is now at war and needs to prepare. One of his subordinates, Agent Coulson (Clark Gregg), asks what they can hope to do. The Avengers theme starts to play in the background as the title card drops as a response. Fury’s answer is a given: it’s time to assemble to the Avengers, a task force made up of individuals capable of mounting a resistance to forces that conventional might cannot stand up against.

But far from being a solution to the Loki problem, creating the Avengers brings about a whole host of other issues for Fury because the rag-tag set of individuals he seeks to have work together are far from cooperative. Given the persons that Fury wants to involve with the project, namely the heroes of the previous Marvel films, it’s easy to see how problems could stack up. Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) is a ego-maniac who can’t help but demonstrate just how smart he is. Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo) of is a man so afraid of himself that he’d rather live his life as a wanderer than be near people and risk harming them as the Hulk. Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) is a man haunted by the loss of his past and is desperate to do anything to numb those sensations. Thor might be fond of the Earth but his priorities lay with Asgard and its people. Natasha Romanoff (Scarlett Johansson) only shows true loyalty to Fury and is more than willing to pull one over on people to achieve any given mission. Meanwhile, Clint Barton is compromised and controlled by Loki.

Balancing these personalities isn’t easy, but director Joss Whedon successfully manages to plot a narrative course that lets the characters bounce off each other authentically. The characters act as we would expect them to given their previous cinematic depictions; the fun emerges from watching the sparks between the characters we know and love getting to experience the same level of familiarity with one another. It’s clear that the actors are enjoying themselves and play off one another seamlessly, so it’s hard not to get invested in the burgeoning friendships. As bonds begin to form between members at a more personal and at a larger ensemble level, the various narrative threads from the previous films start to make sense as a larger puzzle. The group feels less a collection of arbitrarily selected heroes and more like a naturally forming assemblage. Consequently, even when the technical maneuverings of the plot feel outlandish, the energy on display by the key players ensures that no moment remains dull. This is a narrative that knows how to keep a steady hand on the momentum and keep the viewer engaged.

The film’s formula is so effective that it’s effectively served as the de-facto template of the franchise ever since. A story of a diverse group learning to work together maps well with the depths of the Marvel Universe, offering any minor character from a previous film a chance to reprise a more important, embellished role in a future entry. Learning to fight together means that the narrative can be built around multiple fight set-pieces; have the heroes get a minor win, then suffer a loss of sorts, before finally coming together and achieving a victory of sorts. Progression can be clearly marked and delineated which makes character arcs easier to notice and subsequently appreciate.

Yet, The Avengers remains unique even after a decade filled with films taking inspiration from its formula because there’s an earnest enthusiasm in its construction. Long one takes and extensive use of spectator reactions to the spectacles gives the film a distinctive visual identity that many other entries in the franchise are missing. The characters also all have a distinct sense of personality; they’re not all quipsters, so when characters like Tony make a snarky remark, those moments register because they operate in contrast to otherwise “straight” dialogue. This makes the humor hit harder and the serious events linger for a moment of reflection. While the seams sometimes crop up – an inevitability given the film’s duty in patching together every previous Marvel entry – concerns regarding them melt away due to the sense of wonder and enthusiasm on display.

REPORT CARD

TLDREven a decade after it’s release, The Avengers still entertains due to the spontaneous and organic way it mixes the founding Marvel cinematic characters and their respective story threads. The foundational super-hero ensemble film demonstrates that any character can find new purpose if helmed in another story and that characters from seemingly different, developed worlds can come together in a coherent manner in which the sum is greater than the parts. The film’s ambition has paid off multiple-fold, establishing the basis of the largest cinematic franchise the world has seen to date.
Rating9.0/10
GradeA

Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Film Review: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets – 2002

Director(s)Chris Columbus
Principal CastDaniel Radcliffe as Harry Potter
Rupert Grint as Ron Weasley
Emma Watson as Hermione Granger
Robbie Coltrane as Rubeus Hagrid
Richard Harris as Albus Dumbledore

Kenneth Branagh as Gilderoy Lockhart
Tom Felton plays Draco Malfoy
Jason Isaacs as Lucius Malfoy
Release Date2002
Language(s)English
Running Time 161 minutes
Report CardClick to go to Review TLDR/Summary

Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) looks down at a photograph from his past of his parents holding his younger, infant self. Even though he can’t remember the moment, the magical image conveys a liveliness that he yearns for; the “lost” memory reflects off his glasses emphasizing its power on him. Then he flips the page. An image of him with his best friends, Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson), takes center page. But unlike his previous reaction, there seems to be less of a longing here; the image isn’t reflected off his glasses and his reaction is more muted. Why the distance towards his friends? Given the adventures the trio shared during their first year at Hogwarts, the difference in temperament is even more pronounced.

Suddenly, Hedwig, Harry’s owl, starts to fidget in its cage, causing quite a ruckus. Harry tries to calm her down and explains that her entrapment is his extended family’s decision and not his. Harry may not be stuck in a cup-board any longer, but his connection to the magical world which sustains him is limited and constrained; the Dursley’s might not have been able to stop him from going to Hogwarts but they certainly won’t let him mention it or anything related to it.

Hedwig’s outburst doesn’t go unnoticed and Vernon (Richard Griffiths) calls Harry downstairs regarding it. He goes downstairs where Vernon, Petunia (Fiona Shaw), and Dudley (Harry Melling) await. Vernon reminds Harry that the night is crucial to Vernon’s success; he’s hosting his boss for dinner and requires that Harry to remain completely silent – out of sight and out of mind – until said company has left. Outbursts like Hedgwig’s are unacceptable. Harry attempts to barter; if Hedgwig only had some time to fly free, she would be less agitated and noisy. But the Dursley’s push back and claim that Harry would such opportunity to reach out to his friends. Harry sadly notes that he has received no messages from any of his friends so sending anything back to them shouldn’t be a concern. His detachment when viewing the earlier photograph becomes clearer; he feels isolated and forgotten.

He trudges back up to his room, condemned to a night of silence but comes upon a creature on his bed; the creature introduces himself as Dobby, a house-elf assigned to a wizard family to serve as their magical servant. Dobby warns Harry that nefarious events will take place at Hogwarts for the upcoming year and urges the young wizard to take the year off and stay home. But Harry pushes back; he mentions that his home is no home at all and that he needs to see his friends.

Dobby retorts that Harry’s friends are no friends at all if they don’t even write the young wizard. Alas, the information gives the house-elf away. Harry questions how Dobby would know such information; Harry had only explained as much to his extended family a few moments earlier. Sheepishly, Dobby reveals a host of letters from Ron and Hermione and explains that he intercepted and hid the letters in hopes that isolation would cause Harry to lose interest in Hogwarts. Understandably, Harry gets irritated and makes a grab for the letters.

But Dobby escapes and runs downstairs to where Vernon and company sit. Harry freezes. Dobby realizes the stakes and offers Harry a deal: stay at home and agree to not go to Hogwarts or watch as the desert Petunia made for the evening drops on one of the guest’s heads. Harry pleads but Dobby doesn’t relent and casts a spell with a snap of his fingers; the cake starts to float up and moves towards the guests. Harry tries to catch the cake before it falls but instead ends up getting incriminated for the incident as the desert falls right as his hands get around it.

Unsparingly, Vernon does not take the debacle well and places additional bars around Harry’s room. Forget going to Hogwarts. Harry is no longer even allowed outside and is kept prisoner in the Dursley household; his room is little more than a jail-cell.

Thankfully, Ron and his brothers make their appearance to break Harry out in their flying car. They latch the bars onto the enchanted vehicle and rip them off. The disturbance wakes the Dursleys who burst in and try and stop Harry; Vernon grabs his nephew’s legs as the latter gets into the car, but he’s unable to maintain his grasp and falls onto some shrubbery as the car flies away. Harry and company make way to the Weasley household where the former is completely entranced by the difference between Wizard and non-Wizard life. Pots and pans clean themselves while needles knit clothes without any help. It’s a house of utter magic. Finally, Harry feels at home.

He gets acquainted with the rest of the Weasley’s and sets out to Diagon Alley with the group. However, as a wizarding family, the Weasley’s travel to the location not by normal means of transport but by Floo Powder, a substance which when used in a fireplace can transport a user to a fireplace at a named location. Ron demonstrates the method of transportation before Harry is told to have a go at it. But a mispronunciation on Harry’s part has him landing in a different location, Knockturn Alley, an environment which exudes a dark malevolence in contrast to Diagon Alley’s warmth. As Harry is accosted by dodgy folks looking to take advantage of a young, lost wizard, Hagrid (Robbie Coltrane) shows up and helps him out.

Harry is led to Diagon Alley where he meets Hermione. Just like she did in The Sorcerer’s Stone, Hermione casts a spell to fix Harry’s glasses before taking him to the bookstore where the Weasley’s wait. However, Harry’s fame has only grown since his first foray into the wizarding world and he’s recognized by Gilderoy Lockhart (Kenneth Branagh), an up-and-coming author, who capitalizes on the opportunity to do a photo-op with the young wizard. Suddenly, Harry is rushed forward and forced to become part of a publicity stunt he wants no part in.

As Harry tries to exit the store, he’s accosted by Draco (Tom Felton) and Draco’s father, Lucius (Jason Isaacs), who both notice him due to the unwanted attention from earlier. Once again, Harry is rendered an object of interest as the elder Malfoy exhibits a great curiosity in Harry given the latter’s role in exterminating the Dark Lord; Lucius lurches forward and examines Harry’s scar – the proof of the aforementioned exchange. The camera tilts as Lucius leans inward; the fascination with the mark of darkness is a sign of dark things to come. The confrontation dissipates and the parties make their respective ways.

Unfortunately, Harry’s trials and tribulations are only starting, and he finds himself caught in a web of deceit and mystery from the moment he makes his way back to school. As history starts to repeat at Hogwarts, Harry finds himself tasked with not only getting to the bottom of the school’s past but his own as well, all while dealing with a maze of ever-shifting allegiances that will have him questioning who’s really friend or foe. Just from it’s opening, it’s clear that this second installment in the Harry Potter franchise is darker, richer, and more thoroughly consistent than what came before.

In many ways the start of the film mirrors the way The Sorcerer’s Stone picks up. In both films, Harry is locked away by the Dursleys, he’s saved by a magical ally from his past, he’s taken to Diagon Alley where his past is commented on, and he even gets his glasses fixed by Hermione. But far from being emulation, The Chamber of Secrets embellishes each of these moments with a connective tissue that enriches the piece as a whole; the mystery driving the story rarely takes a backseat which gives the narrative a cohesive feeling. This is why the film can adopt the same slice-of-life approach as its predecessor, chronicling different sections of Harry and his peers’ lives over the school-year, without feeling as disjointed. The threads behind the mystery are set up from the very start of the story, so there’s a throughline to hang onto even when the pace it feels like its lagging.

Director Chris Columbus also improves upon the overall look of Hogwarts with much improved CGI that makes the magical encounters feel far more authentic. If Dobby wasn’t enough proof, there are multiple CGI creatures that interact with the cast in believable fashion. This impact can be felt most prominently in the third act when all the different elements come together in thunderous fashion.

This is exactly what a sequel should do: build upon what came before without undermining it. If The Sorcerer’s Stone established that a world of magic could exist hidden under the world we know, then The Chamber of Secrets explores just what such a division would engender. If the Dursley’s are Muggles [1] The in-universe term for non-magic persons. who abhor wizards, then their magical opposites must also exist: wizards who detest Muggles. With parties on both sides aware of the other, the mechanisms governing the worlds, both in relation to one another and internally within themselves, are intricate, and Harry is just starting to scrape the surface of what lies beneath.

REPORT CARD

TLDRHarry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets expands on the magical world of Harry Potter in great fashion, delving into the backgrounds and darker underpinnings of Hogwarts as an institution. Director Chris Columbus improves on the original film’s formula with a tighter ,darker script and much better CGI/practical effect incorporation. It’s a more engrossing journey from start to finish.
Rating8.6/10
GradeB+

Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Film Review: Insidious: Chapter 3 – 2015

Director(s)Leigh Whannell
Principal CastLin Shaye as Elise Rainier
Stefanie Scott as Quinn Brenner
Dermot Mulroney as Sean Brenner
Release Date2015
Language(s)English
Running Time 98 minutes
Report Card Click to go Review TLDR/Summary

The title sequence starts in typical Insidious fashion: the credits are written with blue letters that dissipate in ethereal fashion before violent instrumentals punctuate the soundscape and the ominous red title card comes into frame. More blue text indicates that this third chapter in the franchise is a prequel to the first two movies. Then the text fades to a black screen which explodes in a burst of white light; the light becomes a skyline where birds fly around and the camera moves down to street-level. A young woman, Quinn Brenner (Stefanie Scott), walks down the street towards a house.

She knocks on the front door and an elderly woman, Elise (Lin Shaye) comes to answer. Quinn indicates she’s heard of Elise’s psychic powers and consultations and requests help with a supernatural affair. Elise responds in the negative and explains that her days of psychic entrepreneurship are over. Nonetheless, the sincerity of Quinn’s pleas moves Elise and she offers the would-be-customer a chance to come in and talk.

Quinn explains that she’s lost her mother some time ago and thinks that the latter is communicating with her. Since the occasion, she’s become insistent on reaching back out; it’s clear that her mom served a critical role in her life and confirmation of such contact would help Quinn find a firm footing in life. Elise gets swept up in the admission and begrudgingly offers to help Quinn try and contact Quinn’s deceased mother.

Elise turns out the light and begins delving into the realm beyond, but it becomes clear that something is going wrong. The camera pushes in from behind Quinn; something is coming. She turns and looks behind her and senses an unseen presence in the room. It’s clear that the wrong specter has heard the call. Elise’s face contorts in pain and she stops the séance, indicating that such occupational dangers are the reason she’s left the profession. The retired psychic turns to Quinn and warns the latter to stop reaching out for her mother because any message to one of the dead can be heard by all of them, and as the two just witnessed, some of the specters from beyond are more than willing to cause harm to those who call to them.

Alas, now that the other side has heard Quinn’s call and knows her of the depths of her longing, it’s not going to let her go so easily. Dark forces slowly infiltrate her life and begin to wreak havoc, leaving her bruised and damaged in her journey to find her mother. Unable to deal with the supernatural shenanigans, Sean (Dermot Mulroney), Quinn’s father, contacts Elise to help with the situation. The psychic is thus forced back into the fray and must confront her own inner demons as she seeks to stop the demonic forces that currently threaten Quinn’s life.

Unfortunately, for fans of the franchise, the film’s status as a prequel makes the journey to come predictable; the fate of pivotal characters is already known, so a sense of tension is missing. The script doesn’t account for this in any fashion, opting for inoffensive and tried story beats to generate a baseline level of interest in what’s to come. At one level, the story spends little time in building up Quinn or her family; the relationships between members of the Brenner family never get pushed or stressed in ways that would give the characters something for the viewer to latch onto.

Meanwhile, Elise, who serves as a secondary hero in the story, is given very little to do, which is a shame when Lin Shaye is one of the better actors here. The journey of a psychic so scared by the darkness of the astral world that she seals her own power is one that has so much ground to traverse, but instead of giving Elise room to grow and understand her role, the story prods her to her foregone conclusion with little demonstration of Elise’s decision-making process.

Consequently, the narrative, though coherent, offers very little space to latch on. It’s a vehicle for frightening set-pieces. But just like the story, these set-pieces are lacking a vitality or ingenuity that sets them apart from traditional haunted-house fare. A character will notice something is wrong. A presence will show up. The character will look around for them and then BOOM. A loud jolt along with a “creepy” image and the sequence is done. While both Insidious and Insidious: Chapter 2 have “jump scares” in them, both films employ them in measured manners that lets them have an impact. They build up to their scares through a chaotic sound design which never gives the viewer a moment to rest or predict what’s going to come next. In contrast, Chapter 3 opts for the same audio design for each of its set-pieces which makes them feel more chore than scare.

The problem is frustrating because it’s clear that director Leigh Whannell is competent at the technical aspects of nailing suspenseful sequences. There are multiple moments where the tension builds naturally as entities enter the background quietly. There’s a time given to let a reaction build up. But instead of riding the momentum and delivering on the subtle and eerie nature of what’s going on, Whannell opts to go for bombastic and showy spectacles. This might be forgiven if, like Chapter 2, Chapter 3 utilized the metaphysical trappings of its universe to set-up visually distinctive spectacles, but it never manages to tap into the same visual possibilities. It’s telling when the first two entries bathe their supernatural sequences with hellish reds and astral blues and this entry only makes use of the color scheme at the start and end of its narrative. In fact, outside of some events in the third act, there’s very little here to distinguish the film as an entry in the franchise; it could have just been a supernatural story with no connection to what came before.

In this sense, Insidious: Chapter 3 is frustrating not because it’s particularly bad in any one way but because it never manages to embellish an identity for itself – a disappointment given the potential the mythos of the franchise offers. By opting for the safe and simple choice at most turns, the narrative never manages to endear itself to anyone looking for something deeper than just a simple and technically competent supernatural story.

REPORT CARD

TLDRThe third chapter in the Insidious franchise lacks the identity or charisma that made the previous entries, namely the first film, mainstays of the horror genre. The set-pieces and narrative never make use of the metaphysical possibilities inherent to the franchise, opting for conventional set-ups and trappings at every turn. While this may be entertaining for the viewer looking for a simple, conventional supernatural outing, those hoping for something unique and engaging should look elsewhere.
Rating6.9/10
GradeC+

Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Film Review: Captain America: The First Avenger – 2011

Director(s)Joe Johnston
Principal CastChris Evans as Steve Rogers / Captain America
Hugo Weaving as Johann Schmidt / Red Skull
Hayley Atwell as Peggy Carter
Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes
Release Date2021
Language(s)English
Running Time 124 minutes
Report CardClick to go to Review TLDR/Summary

Note: This review contains spoilers regarding the first 35 minutes of the film as opposed to the site’s usual benchmark of 10-20 minutes. The same effort towards sustaining the intrigue and momentum of the film, especially in its second and third acts, is maintained in this review, and all plot details revealed are just meant to be a springboard to discuss the scope of the work in better detail. Nothing discussed should undermine the “best” portions of the film or the many mysteries that keep the story engaging.

A crew comes upon a wreckage in the Arctic. They go to excavate the remains and discover an shield with a red, white, blue star color pattern encased in ice. The camera pushes in on the shield as a member of the crew calls for assistance; the discovery is one that has been a long time in the making. What is the story behind this American symbol?

Suddenly, we cut back to the past – Norway, 1942. An elderly man guarding a temple of sorts is accosted by Hydra, an off-shoot branch of the Third Reich. The symbol of the organization, a skull with tentacles reaching out, becomes the focal point of the camera as a car adorned with it comes into view – a counterpoint to the shield from earlier. The leader of Hydra, Johann Schmidt (Hugo Weaving), makes his way from the car in ostentatious fashion and interrogates the elderly man on where the hidden object is. The man refuses to give in but Schmidt is able to surmise the location of the object, the Tesseract, one of Odin’s very own treasures.

The story cuts from Norway to the United States of America. A scrawny but determined young man attempts enlist for the efforts in the war. However, his medical history is fraught with complications, so he’s rejected from the war. But Steve’s patriotism knows no bounds; while watching a movie with a lengthy emphatic war-time advert preceding the picture proper, he finds himself in a battle with a heckler who loudly protests the length of the tribute. As the two deck it out outside the theatre, Steve picks up a garbage can lid and holds it up like a shield – a connection to the discovery at the story’s start.

While Steve finds himself unable to win the battle, his friend Bucky (Sebastian Stan) shows up to save the day. The two depart and talk about Steve’s ongoing efforts to enlist; he’s falsified his papers multiple times to try and get a different assessment but has failed repeatedly. Bucky tells Steve that the latter would be better off not enlisting, but the young patriot responds that his effort should match that of his countrymen. Unbeknownst to the duo, Dr. Abraham Erskine (Stanley Tucci), a German scientist working for the United States, hears the exchange and becomes interested in the lengths Steve will go through to help the war efforts.

Consequently, Erskine intervenes during Steve next enlistment attempt. He questions the aspiring soldier to be and concludes that Steve’s character might be the true difference maker in the battles to come. Finally, Steve is allowed to join in the war effort.

Unfortunately, his willpower doesn’t translate to physical might. He finds himself struggling with the regimen required of him but persists in spite of being ostracized by his peers. However, what he lacks in physique he more than makes up for in mental aptitude. His drill leader challenges the squadron of trainees to retrieve a flag from a pole; apparently, no one has ever been able to take it down. The group attempts to get the flag, jumping at the flagpole in indiscriminate fashion, but none of them are able to get it down. But Steve chooses to tackle the problem from a different vantage point; he takes out the screws holding the pole up and picks the flag up off the floor.

Like Erskine said, Steve’s perspective is what can shift the tides of war. Even Steve’s biggest detractors are humbled by the trainee’s charisma and unyielding moral compass. Erskine reveals to Steve that the latter has been chosen for a “Super Soldier” program initiative based on a earlier initiative that Erskine was forced to implemented on Johann Schmidt back in Germany, the same Schmidt who stole the Tesseract earlier. It turns out that Schmidt is obsessed with the ideas of Gods and treats mythology with the same reverence as history itself. He wholeheartedly believes in the idea that one can transcend and become greater than humanity; if Gods can walk the Earth and leave their artifacts then remaining locked by humanity is a sign of weakness. After his procedure, his beliefs and fervor towards achieving them only increased; the super-soldier serum amplifies whatever the underlying person’s attributes are.

While Erskine is gambling on an similarly amplified Steve on being able to deal the death blow, Schmidt hopes that the Tesseract and the weapons that it can power will be enough to take over the world. The procedure is a success and Steve transforms from a scrawny weakling to a muscular and imposing warrior capable of Thus, the stage is set for the battle between the two forces, one oriented towards protecting the peace and maintaining justice and the other oriented towards achieving dominance at all costs.

At its heart, Captain America: The First Avenger is a story about creating legacies, making a message out of oneself. Once transformed into the eponymous Captain America, Steve is forced to reckon not only with his newfound powers but the responsibility that such powers engender for him. Schmidt uses his power and influence to shoot him and his organization into the realm of mythos. Director Joe Johnston reinforces not only the intensity of Schmidt’s beliefs via stylized montage bits but also frames the character in ostentatious and showy manners, a manner fitting of a man trying to make himself into legend.

Captain America is used in a similar fashion initially and is forced to play the role of national galvanizer. His appearance becomes more about maintaining an image than anything else. If Schmidt is obsessed with religious and spiritual iconography because he believes that such works are proof of a world beyond, then Captain America’s immortalization as a cultural icon is proof that greatness is something that anyone can aspire to and achieve; being made an icon through the comic book depictions is analogous to a mythmaking of old that Schmidt is obsessed with emulating. In this sense, the primary battle between the two super-soldiers is about how legends are made.

By constantly referencing the two men along with their respective symbols, Steve with the shield and Schmidt with the Hydra icon, Johnston is able to reinforce the explicit nature of what the two men are fighting for. A shield is a tool for defense, protection, safeguarding. It’s fitting that a hero not bent on killing but on justice chooses to use such an instrument as his tool of choice and is associated with the same. Meanwhile the image of a skull with tentacles demonstrates Schmidt’s obsession with expanding his deadly influence, eliminating anything that doesn’t fit in with his vision; it’s a symbol of bloodshed and oppression.

Alas, the film doesn’t utilize its strong groundwork as effectively as it should, choosing to settle instead of using its requisite elements to generate something greater than the sum of its parts. This issue is apparent from the very start. Once the camera pushes in on the encased shield, the film should have cut to an image of Steve with a shield, positing a relationship between the hero to be and the icon that represents him and his ideologies. For example, the film could have cut to Steve being beaten in the alley [1] Obviously, this assumes other minute plot changes and showed us his assent from the very start; given the importance vested in the shield, this direct connection would have made it clear that the movie is Captain America’s. The choice to instead cut to Schmidt and the symbol of Hydra suggests that this is both of their tales and both symbols are intertwined, which though true to an extent, makes the choice to open the movie on the discovery of the shield feel like a wasted storytelling opportunity.

The effects of this can be felt in the rhythm of the film. While the majority of the run-time goes to developing Captain America, very little goes to developing Schmidt. He gets the necessary backstory and the film cuts him doing “nefarious” things as a way to hammer in how “evil” he is in comparison to Captain America but therein lies the problem. His story is boring and interjecting it so often in the tale of Captain America’s assent only stifles the pacing of a tale that’s actually worth getting invested in; not bifurcating the opening would have made the impact and subsequent battle between the symbols and the men who represent them all the more impactful.

With all that being said, especially for an early entrant in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, The First Avenger does a more than adequate job juggling its elements around in satisfying enough fashion. When the story focuses on Steve, which it does for the most part, its engaging and should satisfy those looking for a lighter superhero outing.

REPORT CARD

TLDRCaptain America: The First Avenger‘s tale of a weakling turned superhero should satisfy any viewer looking for an engaging, albeit predictable adventure that examines what it takes to become an true icon. Not all the moving parts synch up when they need to, but the story’s strong foundation lets it weather rougher patches and stay engaging from start to finish.
Rating8.0/10
GradeB

Go to Page 2 for the for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Film Review: Nightmare Alley – 2021

Director(s)Guillermo del Toro
Principal CastBradley Cooper as Stanton “Stan” Carlisle
Toni Collette as Zeena
Cate Blanchett as Lilith
Rooney Mara as as Molly
Release Date2021
Language(s)English
Running Time 150 minutes
Report CardClick to go to Review TLDR/Summary

NOTE: This is a new release and the review is based off a theatre viewing. This means the review won’t feature common elements like visual analysis, extended theme analysis, or long-form discussions of the cinematic techniques being used. Once I am able to get a copy of the movie to watch, pause, analyze, and get stills from the review will be updated to match the current site’s standard.

A man, Stan, drags a body into a decrepit, disheveled looking house. He places the body into a small hole in the ground and sets the house to flames. Who is being burned and why are they being disposed of in this fashion? These are the questions the narrative circles around; as Stan makes decisions, the film cuts to the scene of the fire, highlighting how his choices shape his relationship to the aspects of his past that he wishes to burn and move past.

With only a suitcase, a watch, and a few knick-knacks, Stan makes his way away from the burning household towards a bus. He gets on board and passes out. Suddenly, he’s woken at the last stop, a carnival, and makes his way out. It becomes clear that outside of getting away from his past, Stan has no clear goals; he’s merely a wanderer trying to make the best of his situation.

Though he comes in to the location by random, it’s clear that Stan is more than competent at making do with his situation. He travels through the carnival and comes upon a “geek” show. The carnival’s owner, Clem (Willem DaFoe), exclaims that even though “geek” in question is so feral he’s still been classified as a man. But still, he insists on posing the question: “Is he man, or beast?”

The crowd becomes fully enthralled by the tagline and buys into the show, forking over change to partake in the festivities. A malnourished and broken-in man (Paul Anderson) crawls out of a damp, grimy enclosing and approaches a chicken which has just been placed in the enclosure. The audience watches with baited breath, but Stan seems more disturbed by the ordeal than anything else. When the “geek” bites down on the chicken’s neck and severs its head, Stan turns while the crowd cheers and jeers at the ordeal.

He leaves the area and is approached by members of the carnival looking for physical labor. Without saying a word, Stan agrees to their proposition and quickly begins to work. He gets acquainted with Clem (Willem DaFoe) and agrees to take on additional work for food and pay; all his negotiations are carried out without an utterance on his part, only gestures. He’s more than content to nod along and play his part, whatever it may be.

It’s only when Clem sends him to capture the carnival’s “geek” after the latter escapes his cage that Stan finds a reason to open his mouth. Upon finding the “geek”, Stan attempts to bargain with the escapee. Stan promises not to inform Clem of his location and instead questions the “geek” on the nature of their predicament; how did this fellow end up desperate enough to eat live chickens for an audience?

But instead of an answer, Stan gets a blow to the head from a rock the “geek” throws. Words can do nothing here and Stan resorts to physical action, proceeding to beat to beat the “geek” into submission. Clem manages to find the duo and stops Stan from killing the performer before then offering him a permanent position with the carnival. Sensing Stan’s mysterious past, Clem suggests that the environment is perfect for the wanderer because no one working at the locale would pry into his past; maybe the “geek” responded in such fashion because he, like Stan, wants to keep his past a mystery.

Regardless, like the “geek”, Stan agrees to work for Clem at the carnival and eagerly embraces the change of scenery. He goes from saying nothing to becoming very talkative. He’s a people pleaser and seems to know exactly what to say to people around him. He’s approached by Zeena (Toni Colette), a carny with a clairvoyant performance who takes a liking to him quickly.

Zeena’s husband, Pete (David Strathairn) is a mentalist and an alcoholic who acts as a surrogate father to Stan. He quickly takes the young man under his wing and teaches him cold reading techniques capable of fooling even the best. With the techniques in hand, Stan blossoms, captivating any soul willing to listen to his words. He goes from a silent wanderer to a charismatic charlatan capable of conning anyone who comes his way, saying exactly what he thinks people want to hear. With the world seemingly at his beck and call, Stan proceeds out from the carnival and into the world determined to to use his skillsets to get everything he wants. But as his marks get more dangerous, Stan is forced to confront the depths of his deepest desires.

The film’s focus on how his desire unfurls is motivated by psychoanalysis – references are made directly in the text. In particular, Stan finds that his journey intersects with three women, Zeena being one of them, all of whom act as both a surrogate partner and mother to him. The Oedipal nature of the relation is intentional and informs the way the film operates. As Stan makes critical decisions in relation to these women, his final trajectory becomes apparent. The weight of every choice he makes reverberates and can be measured as the film cuts to flames as a visual refrain, a visual-call back to his original act of immolation showcasing just how far or close he is to the past he’s trying to escape.

His psychic journey is manifested in the production design. Director Guillermo del Toro does great work to ensure that Stan’s psychic encounters and battles take place in backdrops which reinforce the the shifting tides of power between parties. del Toro uses the noir stylings of the genre and narrative to accentuate the sets, leaning into the use shadows, smoke, and slanted angles to emphasize the nightmarish alleys that Stan finds himself traversing. The rooms and locales that people own are part and parcel of each characters’ identity, so as Stan engages in his mental excursions with persons, the nature of what the characters are after and why they’re after can be felt in even the subtle ways the camera moves.

The narrative, based on William Lindsay Gresham’s 1946 novel, is clock full of detail, providing ample narrative strings for the viewer to parse and put together against these larger visual flourishes. Every thread in play is set-up for a particular reason, and del Toro knows just how to litter the call-backs and references to generate a feeling of catharsis. No beat overstays its welcome and by the time the film’s ending comes into view, any viewer who’s become entranced will already know what is going to unfold and why its going to play out as it does because the way the film’s threads congeal is sublime.

REPORT CARD

TLDRNightmare Alley’s meticulous machinations makes it a wonder to marvel at; each story and character beat has a purpose and watching the threads come together in explosive fashion makes the slow-burn journey all the more satisfying.
Rating10/10
GradeA+

Go to Page 2 for the for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Film Review: West Side Story – 2021

Director(s)Steven Spielberg
Principal CastAnsel Elgort as Tony
Rachel Zegler as María
Ariana DeBose as Anita
David Alvarez as Bernardo
Mike Faist as Riff
Rita Moreno as Valentina
Release Date2021
Language(s)English, Spanish
Running Time 156 minutes
Report CardClick to go to Review TLDR/Summary

NOTE: This is a new release and the review is based off a theatre viewing. This means the review won’t feature common elements like visual analysis, extended theme analysis, or long-form discussions of the cinematic techniques being used. Once I am able to get a copy of the movie to watch, pause, analyze, and get stills from the review will be updated to match the current site’s standard.

The camera starts on street-level among scattered debris and slowly traverses the broken-in area, moving up towards the sky above. The sound of whistling can be heard as the camera continues to glide over a sea of rubble and torn-down buildings; a wrecking ball gets in position to knock another structure down, while the camera dips below it to reveal a manhole. The whistling is revealed to be coming from a young man who jumps up from the manhole; a sign of vitality among the disarray.

This young man quickly joins up with a group of all white men, all dressed in similar blue colors; these are the Jets. The group quickly breaks into synergistic song and dance, as their leader Riff (Mike Faist) leads them through the town; the camera feels like a member of the gang, pushing them forward in their choreographed tirade through the town, adding a kinetic surge to their movements. It becomes clear that the target of their march is none other than a painted flag of Puerto Rico – a symbol of national pride displayed in the Puerto Rican part of town.

Without missing a beat, the Jets quickly lay waste to the flag, smearing it with splotches of paint. But the Puerto Ricans refuse to take the vandalism lightly; a rival gang from their community, the Sharks, gives chase to the Jets as latter gang run off the premises. The groups converge and break into battle before the police arrive and break the brawl up. Even though both groups are at fault, the way the police interact with the parties involved makes it clear that their allegiances are racially charged; they’d rather arrest some Sharks. Neither side acquiesces to the request for information; it’s clear that both parties want to settle their grievances in a more intimate fashion than the law would allow. Lieutenant Schrank (Corey Stoll) admonishes both gangs for their paltry efforts at remaining relevant or trying to claim any turf given that their neighborhood both groups share is set to be demolished to make room for Lincoln Center, a place for the performing arts.

Unable to get a response, Schrank sends the Sharks off the premises. However, the leader of the Sharks, Bernardo (David Alvarez) doesn’t go quietly. He breaks out into a rendition of “La Borinqueña”, the Puerto Rican national anthem and the rest of the Sharks start to sing with him. Much to the chagrin of Schrank who constantly mentions the need for people to speak English, Bernardo and the Sharks refuse to give into linguistic domination and director Steven Spielberg matches their demand for equality by opting to not subtitle the lyrics. If the words of the English-speaking parties need no translation, then neither do the words of the Spanish-speaking parties.

With their brawl delayed, the gangs split ways from one another and vow to settle their dispute at another time. Riff mentions that the Jet’s former leader, Tony (Ansel Elgort), can serve as the group’s trump card. However, Tony, now fresh on parole for previously participating in a gang-related rumble gone wrong, is unwilling to go along with his former gang’s plans; he wants no part in Riff’s plans and makes as much clear to his best friend.

However, Tony’s involvement isn’t up to him – a lesson he finds out soon enough at the local dance that night. While the Sharks and Jets along with their respective partners engage in dancing qua battle, their choreography every much as energetic and exacting as an action set-piece, Tony locks eyes with María (Rachel Zegler), Bernardo’s younger sister, from across the room and it’s clear that a new love is blossoming. The love-struck couple makes their way to the back of the auditorium where the dance is taking place and take cover under some bleachers; their first dance takes place in the shadows away from the gaze of judgmental eyes. Alas, as the couple kiss they are discovered and María is taken away. A warning is issued to Tony; with the racial antagonism at a resounding high, no romance between the two sects can be allowed. The Romeo-and-Juliet inspired tale of star-crossed lovers is set in motion.

As someone unfamiliar with both the original stage musical and 1961 theatrical adaptation of West Side Story, I am unable to comment on the differences in Spielberg’s adaptation, but I can confidently say that this is an experience one can enjoy regardless of one’s level of familiarity. In fact, Spielberg’s decision to leave the Spanish sections of both the dialogue and songs untranslated adds to the sense of empathy the film is driving towards. Even if we can’t understand what’s being said between characters during a certain moment, we know the story trappings and can infer based on context clues not only the nature of what’s being said but also the emotions behind the same. It’s as if Spielberg is informing us that he knows that we know what’s going to happen, so as opposed to holding back any punches, he goes all out and embraces the inner workings of a musical to create an experience that fully entrances us in the magic of this world.

Never once does the film lag as the camera acts a constant participant to the dances the characters engage in – it’s an active member of the choreography and motivates how set-pieces unfold. The careful precision in getting the dancing right makes us aware of the slight space between fighting and dancing; both actions are physical, kinetic, and capable of creating new configurations upon interaction with other elements. The same hands that throw blows can also hold a partner. When the brutal fights happen, there’s a sense that it’s a dance gone wrong, or rather a dance that could have been; thus, the nature of the romantic musical serves as a powerful backdrop the racialized and institutional violence – a fantasy to aspire towards instead of a reality to fade into.

The minimal difference between these two modes of interaction is made explicit in the way the narrative cuts. Bloody bouts and horrific violence cuts to people joyously singing or acting in utter glee; life is precarious and it can teeter so rapidly in one direction vs another. What better way to demonstrate this than to show how violence and love can operate one after another in spite of the apparent discord; change and hope is always possible even if things look hopeless in the moment. In this effort, the actors, by and large, aid him as they seamlessly switch from cruel and brutal to vivacious, demonstrating the way temperament can radically shift. By infusing this contemptuous ebb-and-flow in every parcel of the film, Spielberg is able to present a vision on how the rhythm of life operates, transporting us to a wonderous world where wonders are possible even if they’re difficult to achieve.

REPORT CARD

TLDRWest Side Story is a captivating tale that grabs you by the wrist on its journey through the ebbs and flows of human emotion. The story of star-crossed lovers hits the story beats you’d expect but does so in such gusto that you can’t help but be invested. Even when the story hits its bumps, the feeling it provides never lets up, captivating you till from start to finish. Talk about the transformative power of cinema.
Rating10/10
GradeA+

Go to Page 2 for the for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .