Captain Marvel (2019)

Directors: Anne Boden, Ryan Fleck

Cast: Brie Larson, Samuel L. Jackson, Ben Mendelsohn, Lashana Lynch

Have I Seen it Before: Tempting to say yes, as the superhero genre has consistently risked reverting to a very bland mean, but I’m pleased to say this film has enough of a unique feel to bring me straight to the answer to my next question.

Did I Like It: Yes, yes I did.

Is it kind of gross to immediately compare this to Wonder Woman (2017)? Reductive, possibly, but impossible to completely avoid while the road to more representation is paved with MRA’s who are insistent on burning everything to the ground. Is it apostasy to say that I prefer Captain Marvel? Wonder Woman is a fine film—and in fact the only film of the struggling DCEU to not be overwhelmed by any particularly glaring flaws—but is ultimately at it is core Thor meets Captain America but with a lady.

Marvel, however feels different. For one thing, there is no interest in any degree of a romantic subplot anywhere in the film. Admittedly, that could be in some small part because the first forty-five minutes are a little weighed down by expositioning a heavy science-fantasy framework of which general audiences likely have no awareness. No time for love here, Dr. Jones. And yet, omitting that part of the story feels refreshing.

Carol Danvers (Brie) isn’t closed off or inhuman in the pursuit of this greater ideal, either. She has tremendous affection for her friends (even in cases where she’s spent over half a decade not remembering them), is the funniest character in the film that isn’t a cat, and She’s a welcome addition to the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and only serves to increase my anticipation of the upcoming Avengers Endgame. What’s more? I think the true measure of a superhero film featuring a character that might not be in the cultural zeitgeist is that I want to read more of the world the moment the movie is over. And in the day since I’ve seen the film, I keep eyeing the comixology collection of Captain Marvel stories. So, well done, movie. Well done.

One more note: the work to make Samuel L. Jackson and to a lesser extent, Clark Gregg, twenty-five years younger has finally come of age. Or, at the very least, it’s evolved by quantum leaps beyond the lurching, halting, unfathomable creations that first stepped out of a car in X-Men: The Last Stand (2006). With that being said, my common refrain about the future of superhero films may need a slight revision. I’ve been saying for years that the best idea no one is working on is a Batman Beyond film featuring Michael Keaton as old Bruce Wayne. Now that we have the technology to rebuild him, let’s skip the compromise and just make the Batman 3 that we always deserved and give us prime 90s Keaton. We have the means; we need only find the will now.

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)

Director: Gareth Edwards

Cast: Felicity Jones, Diego Luna, Ben Mendelsohn, and Darth Vader as Himself.

Have I Seen it Before: Hell, I’m tempted to go watch it again right now.

Did I Like It: Lemme go grab the blu ray…

The text of this review appeared previously in a blog post entitled “Some Sort of Pre-Sequel: Thoughts on spoilers and Rogue One” published 12/18/2016.

So here we are, once again faced with a new Star Wars movie. I’m doomed to spend a day having to sheepishly admit—like somebody living under a rock their whole life—that I haven't seen all of the Star Wars movies yet.

But I suppose this time things are different. For one thing, the new movie, Rogue One, takes place before the beloved trilogy. It’s not really a sequel, per se, but more of a pre sequel. If only there was a simpler term for such a thing.

Ahem.

What is the same is the communications blackout most of us put ourselves in before squeezing in a screening. We're more worried about spoilers than we are about fake news articles*. I'm with you on this front. I've tried to avoid spoilers for Rogue One whenever possible, but there's got to be limits. Some things aren't spoilers. Some things are just predictable. But just because an ending is predictable, does that mean the movie itself is no good? We spent three prequel** movies knowing the fate of Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi and company, and that is pointed to as one of the many reasons those films don’t work. 

Now I, before seeing the movie, have decided that most of Rogue One's heroes are not long for the galaxy. I'm not a soothsayer, nor am I an insider. I just don't remember seeing Felicity Jones or Tudyk-bot*** in A New Hope (1977), and logic alone dictates my conclusion. Does this make the movie doomed, like its prequel progenitors****

Now, I have written all of the above words before seeing the movie. I intend to continue my thoughts after I have finished watching it. See you on the other side.

***

Look at that, I was right. They all died. And yet, I think the movie largely works. Yes, Peter Cushing 2.0 seems like he is straight out of an above average video game cut scene, and the less said about retro Carrie Fisher, the better*****, but the whole package is satisfying.

It’s a satisfying movie, for no other reason that we got Darth Vader back, if only for a few moments. He has a brief interlude in the middle of the movie, wherein he exchanges villain-speak with Big Bad Orson Krennic (Ben Mendelsohn), which isn’t terribly thrilling beyond James Earl Jones’ welcome return. Later, though… Oooh, boy. He makes a return to the film in a big way. In that moment, he is not the dimwitted Lothario/precocious column of nonsense of the prequels. Nor is he the conflicted dead-beat dad of Empire or Jedi. He is the same mysterious figure that emerges from the myst in the first minutes of A New Hope. He is Darth Vader. The moment you hear that breathing and the see the red light of his saber, there is little else to do but hope that you had your affairs in order. I could have watched that scene over and over again for two-and-a-half hours******.

Would any of this have been ruined had I not surmised the fate of most of the characters? The ending is inevitable, but our heroes make every moment count for as much tension as possible. At the end of the movie, I’m about ready to believe these people just might make it. Also, Chirrut Îmwe is one with The Force, and The Force is with him.

So if Rogue One is a thrilling edition to the canon, and it doesn’t take much to figure out how the movie ends, then what excuse did Episodes I-III have? Were they just terrible? Was it all Hayden Christensen’s fault, even the movie he wasn’t in? The world may never know…

It was Jar-Jar. We all know it was Jar-Jar’s fault*******.

*#2016sentences

**Oh, I get it…

***Tudyk always dies. Too soon? #leafonthewind

****Pre-prequels? I’ll stop.

*****But these are nitpicks. In that spirit, here are some more thoughts along the same line. I think that the Artoo/Threepio cameo was extraneous, if for no other reason that there was a much better opportunity for them to appear in the corridors of the Tantive IV (yes, that is the name of the ship, look it up) in the final moments. They could have bickered just the same, and to the same effect, and it would have made more sense. Also: Oh Jek Porkins, Where Art Thou? #williamhootkinsforlife. One last one: Why didn’t Hannibal Lecter both know that he put the flaw in the Death Star design, and where that flaw was located? Because the movie would have been a lot shorter that way, that’s why.

******Not really.

*******#1999sentences

Ready Player One (2018)

Director: Steven Spielberg

Cast: Tye Sheridan, Olivia Cooke, Ben Mendelsohn, T.J. Miller

Have I Seen it Before: Yes. In the theater. In 3d and IMAX. I’m not sure why I did that.

Did I Like It: Sure… Let’s go with that.

First bit of business when discussing this film. Yes, I read the book. It was shortly after its release. I thought it was fine, if slightly forgettable. Others have been very down on the work of the book. I neither fully agree or disagree with them. I also read author’s Ernest Cline’s second novel, Armada, which I really hated. I hated Armada so much that after listening to the audio book, I disliked narrator Wil Wheaton a little bit. The stink was that bad.

Early in the development of Ready Player One, there appeared to be a very real possibility that Robert Zemeckis (Back to the Future (1985), Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988)) appeared to be a lock for the director’s chair. This seemed like the right choice. With Roger Rabbit, he proved ages ago he could juggle an army of cameos from a disparate array of intellectual properties. That should have sealed the deal right there. With attempts like Polar Express (2004), Beowulf (2007), and A Christmas Carol (2009) he proved that—if by trail-and-error alone—he had more experience than Peter Jackson or James Cameron with the motion capture the film would require. Even if he would be forced to work with the DeLorean Time Machine again, that would only a small drop of self-referential-itis, a word I’ve just made up.

Instead, and with some degree of surprise, Steven Spielberg agreed to direct. Considering the film is steeped in 80s pop culture, this is sort of like hiring Pope Pius XII to make The Ten Commandments (1956)*. Too much self-referentialism—another word I apparently just made up—can be a bad thing. 

Thankfully, Spielberg is indisputably more of a master of the cinema than Cline is of the novel, so the movie flies above the source material. Wherein the book makes extensive references to WarGames (1983), the reality that Spielberg trying to do an extensive homage to John Badham fell by the wayside in favor of a scene borrowing from Kubrick’s The Shining (1980). Spielberg reaching for Kubrick makes a lot more sense.

Ultimately, Spielberg made the best version of this story possible. He’s made far better movies in recent year, most frequently when he eschews the pop sensibilities of his earlier career, and he’ll probably make better movies still. Ultimately? Give Lincoln (2012) or even The Post (2017) a look, and also give a look to all the other properties that prop this one up.

*Any person possessing a problem with that analogy should email complaints@partyapocalypse.com, an email address that—to date—does not exist.