Daredevil (2003)

Director: Mark Steven Johnson

Cast: Ben Affleck, Jennifer Garner, Michael Clarke Duncan, Colin Farrell

Have I Seen it Before: Yes. For reasons I can’t possibly even fathom, I even bought the soundtrack (in those final years when people went out and bought soundtrack albums on disc after seeing a movie). This is why I can karaoke Evanesence’s “My Immortal” without looking at the words*.

I’ve seen it more than a few times, and even went straight from getting a paycheck at Staples once twenty years ago to pick up a copy of the director’s cut—now with 100% more Coolio—but I can’t imagine I would have ever watched the film again, if it weren’t for Jennifer Garner being thoroughly charming in her more-than-a-cameo role in this summer’s Deadpool & Wolverine (2024).

Did I Like It: I knew I wasn’t going to like it even before I pressed play. While the moment when the movie came out was when I was most into the Matt Murdock (Affleck) character that I was ever going to be, I remember thinking that the meet-cute/fight scene between Affleck and Garner was one of the most awkwardly staged sequences ever shot.

I had somehow forgotten that almost every other element of the film doesn’t work, either. There are a few moments where the film seems fleetingly interested in depicting the challenges a blind man (regardless of how much he can actually see) might face. Far too many plot lines from decades worth of Daredevil** are included here for this to have any hope of being anything more than an unappetizing mystery loaf of a movie. One gets the sense that the filmmakers tend to agree, hence why leaden voice over narration from Affleck permeates the film like a fart that just won’t dissipate.

Every performer either seems like they want to be almost anywhere else, or trying their best to be a good sport, as this will hopefully lead to some other, better films. The entire affair seems blithely designed to get a reasonable return on the investment at a time when few movies are expected to do well, and to be able to make a few extra bucks on that aforementioned soundtrack album. It accomplished both of those modest goals.

*Okay, fine. You twisted my arm. It’s only partially how I’m able to do that.

**Also, and I can’t imagine I’m going to find a venue to express this deeply held thought anywhere else. Shouldn’t the billionaire, ultimately thrill-seeking man who uses fear as a weapon be called Daredevil - The Man Without Fear, and the blind guy with sonar powers be called Batman? If Affleck is capable of learning lessons—and there is evidence to suggest that he cannot—then maybe he has finally worked this one out.

Planet of the Apes (2001)

Director: Tim Burton

Cast: Mark Wahlberg, Tim Roth, Helena Bonham Carter, Michael Clarke Duncan

Have I Seen It Before: Yes. For the life of me, I can’t remember if I saw it in theaters, but I’m almost certain I would have. I do remember that the DVD had a diagram that tried to make sense out of the time warp-y qualities of the plot… And you can imagine how helpful it might have been.

Did I Like It: I’ve always thought of the film as an extremely average exercise, punctuated by an unnervingly confusing ending.

Twenty-plus years later, and nothing has really changed. If there’s a movie where it was more clear that Burton showed up to call “action!” and “cut!” for the money alone, then it would probably be <Batman (1989)>. That’s a lie. At least Batman had some clowns in it and a sense of art and the artistic.

I can’t help but think of what this film could have been during the many years it spent languishing in development hell. For a minute, there was a version in the 90s starring Schwarzenegger and directed by Cameron. If that doesn’t make you feel like you were robbed, then I really don’t know what to do with you.

It’s not as if there is nothing of value in the movie. It sports one of the last great (yes, I did say that) Danny Elfman scores. Also, while the apes makeup is a quantum leap forward from the days of Roddy McDowall*, the individual ape performances—especially from Roth, Bonham Carter, and Paul Giamatti—allow for a lot more ape-like behavior out of the characters than before.

If only they had inhabited a story worth watching, or for that mater, worth understanding. The deck was stacked against the film as it felt the need to match the awe-inspiring quality of <the original’s> conclusion. I can’t imagine that this was what anyone—filmmaker or viewer alike—wanted. Even now, years later, I try to make sense of just what is happening in this film’s final minutes. There are a few seconds where I almost get there, and then it slips away. And if the film which preceded it, I might feel the need to keep trying to work it ll out.

*As I wrap up my reviews of the Apes films, I realize I may be afforded relatively few opportunities to refer back to Roddy MacDowall, which always lends itself to this strangely foundational memory. My parents insisted McDowall was the voice of C-3PO in the Star Wars films. I was correct in my insistence that it was in fact Anthony Daniels who played the robot. I even showed them the end credits of one of the movies on VHS. They still insist that Roddy McDowall was in Star Wars, and by that logic was still appearing in Star Wars films several decades after his death.

The Green Mile (1999)

Director: Frank Darabont

Cast: Tom Hanks, Michael Clarke Duncan, Bonnie Hunt, Sam Rockwell

Have I Seen it Before: Several times, but not nearly as much as that other prison-set Frank Darabont-directed movie based on a Stephen King story.

Did I Like It: I think it’s objectively a depressing movie, so why do I always feel a little uplifted by it the end. Must say more about me than about the movie itself.

There is—to my mind—only one problem with this film. I don’t for one second believe that Dabbs Greer is an elderly Tom Hanks. That being said, somewhere out there in the multiverse is a version of me who watches this film and wishes that they hadn’t put Tom Hanks in old age makeup. So, in the end, art is often about living with imperfections.

Beyond that, the film is great. A year before Patrick Stewart relented to play Charles Xavier in X-Men (2000), Michael Clarke Duncan had the rare distinction of being born to play a particular role in John Coffey. Hanks is Hanks, which may sound like slightly damning praise, but who doesn’t want to watch Tom Hanks in a movie. The rest of the cast is perfection, right down to the slimy Doug Hutchinson playing the odious Percy Wetmore. Between this film and Galaxy Quest being released in the same year, I am struggling to find a one-two punch that introduced a screen persona more efficiently than Sam Rockwell.

A well-cast movie is one thing, but in truth not much of anything if the writing and directing aren’t there. See Justice League (2017) (minus the tag scene) for a pretty good example. Here, Frank Darabont’s skills are unassailable. It’s a shame that he hasn’t directed a movie since The Mist (2007). It’s an even bigger shame that he was fired as showrunner on The Walking Dead after its first—and only watchable—season. It’s yet a bigger shame still that George Lucas relegated Darabont’s draft for Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of The Crystal Skull (2008) to the scrap pile. 

It’s a pretty miraculous film that deals with the guards of death row, and still make me want to somehow know these people in real life. They are decent, and in a time with little decency to show for it, that is uplifting, even in the face of tragedy.

Also, and on a slightly unrelated note: I think this book informs this first season of Castle Rock more than any other King work. At press time, there are still a few more episodes left to air. Let's see if I'm right.