The Matrix Resurrections (2021)

Director: Lana Wachowski

Cast: Keanu Reeves, Carrie-Anne Moss, Yahya Abudl-Mateen II, Jada Pinkett Smith

Have I Seen it Before: Well, there were a few moments there in the early going where I thought I might have…

Did I Like It: I never really liked the first two Matrix sequels, The Matrix Reloaded (2003) and The Matrix Revolutions (2003). I think the—perhaps over-lauded—philosophical depth of The Matrix (1999) became far too self conscious as the series progressed. The Wachowskis knew what side of their bread ought to be buttered, and so also made sure to stop the navel-gazing at various (occasionally incomprehensible) times to be an action movie again. The whole affair of those sequels only served to be so aggressively uneven that even now, nearly twenty years later, that’s the only real reaction I have to those two films.

So, I can say with some joy that, for the most part, this is the best Matrix film since the original. The first act is an interesting meditation on just what The Matrix has become since the premiere of the original film. It feels different, and even if it attaches itself to that ponderous quality which dragged down previous efforts, it is specifically calibrated to consistently surprise. 

Then it all becomes a very tedious continuation of the plot threads left dangling from Resurrections. A real big drag of one. Am I supposed to have some kind of reaction from a reunion with both General Niobe (Smith) and The Merovingian (Lambert Wilson)? If I am, I don’t think it’s the reaction for which Lana Wachowski likely hoped.

But then the finale, where Trinity (Moss) comes into her own and evolves beyond just being Keanu Reeves’ girlfriend that the film reaches (if not completely accomplishes) something more visceral, and potentially more special.

So, it’s all still suspiciously uneven. Again. That just makes it a very natural part of the larger saga. I’m just glad I can get on board with some of the parts presented, even if they don’t quite fit together as well as they could within the individual film in which they’re presented.

The Matrix Revolutions (2003)

Director: The Wachowskis

Cast: Keanu Reeves, Laurence Fishburne, Carrie-Anne Moss, Hugo Weaving

Have I Seen it Before: After The Matrix Reloaded (2003), I wondered if I even needed to see another Matrix movie, but sometimes you’re a college freshman and people are going to the theater, and it’s not like you have anything better to do.

Did I Like It: And at that time, I kind of liked, or at least I liked it better than I did the second film. It had a rousing finale. The duality between Neo (Reeves) and Agent Smith (Weaving) fills a few intriguing minutes. The realization that the only way the war between the human resistance and the machines will end is by them being forced to work together is worth chewing on for a few moments. I’ve seen far worse trilogy cappers, based on that list.

It’s almost enough to ignore the fact that I don’t think anyone can adequately explain just what happened at the end of the movie. Did Neo die? Did he become a machine? Did he become Smith? Does the end even matter? I suppose I can live with ambiguity in my movie*, or at any rate I’ll have to accept it because that’s all that we have on the menu. But did we have to put up with extended mech battles that seem like they were taken from a rejected version of Alien 3 (1992)? Or, more importantly, a scene that runs through what feels like its own feature length runtime and takes place entirely in a hermetically sealed subway station?

Maybe I don’t like the film at all, as it turns out? Should I even watch the fourth film?

I probably will… Probably. 

*Does the fourth movie resolve any of that? Still remains to be seen here on these reviews, but if I know my Wachowskis (or even half of them), I’m betting the answer is no.

The Matrix Reloaded (2003)

Director: The Wachowskis

Cast: Keanu Reeves, Laurence Fishburne, Carrie-Anne Moss, Hugo Weaving

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. After The Matrix (1999) I was pretty excited about it. When I heard the Wachowskis were producing their sequels back-to-back, a la the same process used for Back to the Future - Part II (1989) and Back to the Future - Part III (1990), I got even more excited. It felt like they were doing things right.

Did I Like It: And that excitement sort of evaporated. Instantly. The balance between mythologyesque/adventurey and the more religiousy/allegoryish elements of the original film moved all the way to the religiousy end of the spectrum. That may not be the right criticism for this movie in particular, but the Matrix sequels as a whole certainly landed there. This one seems more like a relentless chase sequence that expands on the original film’s main feature… And that is making a bunch of story promises that the additional movies can’t or wont’ payoff.

Sure, the freeway segment probably doesn’t get enough credit for being a pretty spectacular action sequence, but the extended rave sequence in the city of Zion is such a protracted exercise in self-indulgence that I honestly wonder if Kevin Smith didn’t direct it. It exists merely to be cool and has so little to do with the scraps of a story filling the remaining two and a half hours, that I’m sort of surprised that J.J. Abrams didn’t take over the production at some point.

I suppose that’s probably enough snark to spread around for one movie, but ultimately this feels like a list of cool things (raves, flying sequences, techno vampires) desperately searching for a story. They didn’t have a story to continue, but they jammed just enough philosophy and pyrotechnics into a package to convince some people.

The Matrix (1999)

Director: The Wachowskis

Cast: Keanu Reeves, Laurence Fishburne, Carrie-Anne Moss, Hugo Weaving

Have I Seen it Before: I mean, how would somebody get through the 2000s, own a DVD player the entire damn time, and not see this movie? I’m legitimately curious.

Did I Like It: As is usually the case, it’s difficult to write about a movie that changed the face of cinema ever since, and sometimes in good ways. One could write about how the mythology in the film influenced genre filmmaking, but then you’d also have to note how the series never quite capitalized on its singularly Campbellian display of the monomyth here, but that almost seems like a better discussion to have during the reviews of those movies, especially the persistently discouraging sequels*.

I could talk about how the narrative has changed slightly in the twenty-plus years since its initial release. It’s become something of a parable for the trans/non-binary experience, especially after the Wachowskis transitioned. But they deny that such a parable was at least consciously the case, and there are any number of other writers who could pontificate on that point far more eloquently than I could. 

I might go back to the critique I had of the movie back in the day, that Cypher (Joe Pantoliano) might have had a point. The real world of the story is so drab and awful and filled with frequent death, and the Matrix seems… okay enough? Who wouldn’t want to go back into The Matrix? Between the gender parable and just growing up a little bit, that criticism rings hollow.

So, where am I left in this review? It’s a very fine film and if you have, indeed, somehow made it to this point in life without seeing the film, you certainly should. The thing that I was struck by in this viewing was that I had always taken the film as a piece filmed in Chicago, with all of the character of that town. The Wachowskis come from there. And yet, the film wasn’t shot there at all, and instead is a product of Australia, utilizing studio facilities whose biggest contributions to the form up until that point was Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers: The Movie (1995). I thought I had gotten so sophisticated in my viewing that I could always pick out when a film was shot in a real city or not. This film continues to surprise me. That’s more than a little something.

*At press time, I haven’t yet watched The Matrix Resurrections (2021), but I do get the impression that it isn’t exactly going to bring the whole together all of a sudden.

French Kiss (1995)

Director: Lawrence Kasdan

Cast: Meg Ryan, Kevin Kline, Timothy Hutton, Jean Reno

Have I Seen it Before: …yes? Although as I type this I have virtually no memory for the individual moments for the movie. Maybe I saw it in the middle of it on Cable once? Maybe Lora was in the middle of watching it and I came in on the middle of it.

Did I Like It: I’m a little disappointed when writer-directors (like Kasdan) direct a movie they themselves didn’t write. It feels so mercenary. Is it art? Does a film even need to be art? Anybody who complains about the sameness of movies these days needs to understand that nearly any movie in this genre could be cut together in any haphazard manner, and it would all still kind of make sense. Kevin Kline might speak french intermittently, and Meg Ryan might be really into email and call-in radio shows at random times, but we’d all still have pretty good time.

That probably doesn’t have much to do with this film itself. All of the main players are doing their level-headed mid-90s best. Meg Ryan swings between high strung and adorable like she was put on the planet to do it (which, going by box office receipts alone, she was), and Kevin Kline becomes embodies the contradictions of a leading man and quirky character actor which I… just realized now he peaked in Wild Wild West (1999).

And that’s what most romantic comedies. Cookie cutter plots with people commercially proven to be likable. You can get extra points (possibly even on the back end, if you managed to finagle a producer credit, like Meg Ryan in this particular instance) if you can set the movie in some far flung location that has an aura of romance at its center.

It’s done well, but then again its not hard to do that well. 

Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021)

Director: Jon Watts

Cast: Tom Holland, Zendaya, and (wait for it… spoilers, but its way too late because the human eye has already looked at the end of the line) Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield

Have I Seen it Before: Feels both apt an strangely inappropriate to make a joke about Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), so I’ll just leave it at that.

Did I Like It: This movie is already working at a disadvantage. A bunch of Spider-men in one movie has been done, and in an astonishingly brilliant way in the aforementioned Into the Spider-Verse. Tom Holland’s work in the role may have tragically peaked with his first, semi-solo outing, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), which is a nearly-perfect teen comedy, and features Michael Keaton in a central role*. Chasing after what came before is a curse of any trilogy capper, but the question remains does this film persevere against that limitation.

Yes, mostly. It’s not a film that’s going to have a lot of success standing on its own, if for no other reason than someone would need at least two (and as many as eight) prior movies for every moment to land. That’s more of a design flaw in the Marvel movies as a whole, the further the ongoing story of the MCU goes.

The multiverse storyline isn’t as manically unhinged as its animated predecessor. They could have offered brief moments with Nicholas Hammond, or even Shinji Todō. They could have gone a little further and explored live-action Spider-Man that never came to pass. I’m talking James Cameron-directed Leonardo DiCaprio and another check in with Donald Glover. Hell, Keaton could have shown up and made sure we all know he’s still Batman… But all of that would have made the film so over-stuffed as to be inaccessible to anyone but me. And DC will have me covered on that other thing. That being said, even after all of the hype and denials, it was still a nice little moment to get our old Spider-men back, if even for a bit. The movie even manages to accomplish that great thing of later/legacy sequels: improving the entries which previously left a bad taste. I’m looking in your direction, Spider-Man 3 (2007) and The Amazing Spider-Man 2 (2014). If nothing else, Andrew Garfield is vindicated… even if he’s spent the last several months pointedly lying to all of us.

Now that I think about it, I can only point to one verifiable, undeniable missed call in the film. In the film’s nearly-final scene, Peter’s landlord couldn’t have been played by Elya Baskin (or, Mr. Ditkovitch from the Tobey Maguire films)? The MCU-series put J.K. Simmons in the role of J. Jonah Jameson again. There’s no reason they couldn’t have gone for two.

*If you didn’t think that one would rank as my favorite, then you’re new here.

Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)

Director: Guillermo del Toro

Cast: Sergi López, Maribel Verdú, Ivana Baquero, Doug Jones

Have I Seen it Before: Never! Which has been a source of some exasperation in my house over the years. I’m not against subtitles in a film, but I just never seem to be in the mood to have to read a film. Likely a symptom of most often being distracted by other devices whenever I take in a film. Now, I’m jonesing for a bit of subtitles, and it is time to ride that wave straight through the labyrinth.

Did I Like It: Yes, and there was never any reason to doubt that was where I was going to land on the film. del Toro doesn’t know how to make a bad film. I’ve always enjoyed whatever trip he wanted to take us down. Those trips are always surprising, and not just visually.

On spec, I thought this film was going to be far weirder, ultimately more labyrinthine. That’s what I get for trusting a title like some kind of chump. There are visual flourishes of great, slightly mad fantasy aplenty, and while some of those images became iconic after the fact, there are still plenty more that will keep the uninitiated on their toes. Much of the CGI ages poorly in the extreme, especially the tiny fairy that first introduces Ofelia (Baquero) to the notion that the world might be far stranger than it initially may have seemed. Is it even worth noting CGI from 15 years ago doesn’t hold up? The moment the render is complete, any computer-animated element starts aging like a new car. That’s a minor complaint, especially when many of the costumes and makeup worn by Doug Jones are truly mesmerizing.

But that’s not even what the film is about! It’s about a scared young girl living in an objectively scary situation, and the monsters are about the only thing that will help her, regardless of whether they’re real or not. 

The Seventh Seal (1957)

Director: Ingmar Bergman

Cast: Gunnar Björnstrand, Bengt Ekerot, Nils Poppe, Max Von Sydow

Have I Seen it Before: I made a point of watching it when I was in high school, as I was in that phase when people (it might have just been me) aren’t really ready for the more important films of the world, but insist on watching them anyway. Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey (1991) may have had something to do with it.

Did I Like It: It’s iconic qualities—again, see Bogus Journey—are hard to discount. It’s cinematography is stark and consistently interesting, even if it has a sort of almost-too-clean quality one might find in television productions over the next decade. Although, to be fair, that may be a byproduct of a trend in Blu Rays where the print becomes a bit too remastered for it’s own good. Thank God Bengt Ekerot wasn’t hiding a mustache under all that white make-up—a la Cesar Romero—or this film might have threatened to be fun.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? The film’s so aggressively self-serious that even in moments where there is comedy relief, it’s still a little bit about the weight of God and death. What’s more, the is a lot of road (well, at least 96 minutes of road) to get to the ultimate realization that hemming and hawing about the inevitability of death is a fool’s errand: death will still come and put you in checkmate. It’s such a self-apparent conclusion, that I was getting a little annoyed at the proceedings about three-fourths of the way in when I came to it. When, in its final moments, the film doubles down on my own perceptions, I wasn’t exactly sure why I had—for the second time in twenty years—gone through this exercise.

Maybe I need to give it another twenty years.

Ghostbusters: Afterlife (2021)

Director: Jason Reitman

Cast: Carrie Coon, Finn Wolfhard, McKenna Grace, Paul Rudd

Have I Seen it Before: Well… We’ll get to that.

Did I Like It: As I fully expected, I would be remiss to not spend a little bit of time in this review talking about Ghostbusters (2016). That movie was perfectly fine and more than a little funny. Sure, it looks like it was definitely filmed in front of a green screen for large stretches, instead of any New York I might recognize. I’ve never understood why that film had to be a total reboot. By 2016, Ghostbusters could have been a nationwide franchise, and that could have been the story of one of those franchisees with very little changed*. I saw Answer the Call in theaters twice. I bought it on Blu Ray. I’ve bought ever comic book that featured those characters. We—and by we, I mean America—did Ghostbusters (2016) dirty. It stinks that the movie became a political cause at a time when nearly every political cause only served to nauseate, and there was never a way a Ghostbusters film was going to be any fun when it was an issue we all had to take sides on. We now have twice as many Ghostbusters films as we did just over five years ago, and you all nearly ruined it.

Now, that I have taken up for the maligned, I feel like I can say that I looked forward to this film with more than a moderate amount of anticipation. The notion of a sequel to Ghostbusters II (1989) progressively felt like a shaky idea, especially after the death of Harold Ramis in 2014. But this film largely makes a case for itself in ways with which any other version of a direct continuation would have struggled. Ramis is given his hero’s sendoff, and Egon Spengler is a very real part of the movie. The remaining Ghostbusters appear sparingly, which is about right. I always said I never really wanted a Ghostbusters III, I was always more interested in a trailer, and that’s about the amount—aside from post-credits scenes—we get. The new characters are charming, and I feel sad for the five-year-old me who never got to see the Ghostbusters descend on Oklahoma. The film is fun, I’ll buy it on Blu Ray just as soon as it is available, and will delightfully consume any additional stories featuring the new characters, should they be in another movie or some other kind of ancillary material.

Here’s the problem: the film threatens to completely fall apart when it is desperate to recreate moments from the first film. Not characters and cast, mind you, actual scenes. Making Gozer the villain of the piece again, we see more comedies of error about Keymasters and Gatekeepers, that the whole thing almost, kind of, veers dangerously close to Gus Van Sant’s Psycho (1998) territory. I don’t give two shits about Gozer the Gozerian, Ivo Shandor, Zuul, or the rest. They should have gone with something new. That’s one more thing the last Ghostbusters film got right, and well… also got wrong in a post credits sequence, now that I’m thinking about it.

*That change could have also allowed them to not be essentially retconned out of existence with this entry, which would have made all the correct people furious all over again. But I digress, and that’s why that thought is footnote.

A Knight’s Tale (2001)

Director: Brian Helgeland

Cast: Heath Ledger, Mark Addy, Rufus Sewell, Paul Bettany

Have I Seen it Before: Never, which elicited a fair degree of shock from Lora… I have a vague recollection of it being the centerpiece of a girl’s night that my girlfriend at the time and her friends went to on opening weekend…

Christ, I’m already exhausted writing about this movie.

Did I Like It: The strengths of the movie are fairly easy to quantify. Health Ledger was both a discernible movie star, and a nimble actor in equal measure, and people were beginning to sense that even at the point this film was released. He was probably at the height of his popularity as a heartthrob here, and there are far dumber reasons to make a movie than it has attracted the interest of a handsome man with an Australian accent. 

A modernly wry take on Chaucer certainly is something that would have attracted more than a little top-flight talent, which then fills out the cast with more than a few stellar supporting talents. It’s a fun idea for a movie, if nothing else.

But then there’s the actual movie itself. The soundtrack choices, too, are clearly supposed to be fun. But who are they actually for? I kind of like many of those songs, and I couldn’t help but find them distracting and betraying a deep self-consciousness on the part of the filmmakers. The teeny-boppers of the era would have found the then-classic rock passé (believe me, they certainly did when they were what was playing on my radio at the time), and anyone who might be in the demographic for the film now would find the whole exercise preposterous in the extreme.

Not everybody can be James Dean, ultimately. And even those that can approach the legend-cut-down-too-soon status can’t make a great film every time they step in front of a camera.

The Breakfast Club (1985)

Director: John Hughes

Cast: Emilio Estevez, Paul Gleason, Anthony Michael Hall, Judd Nelson

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. I think anyone who’s had cable at any point in their lives has probably pieced together the film a few minutes at a time.

Did I Like It: I think my reaction in the past to this movie is pretty easy to sum up. It’s a minimalist wonder, and I don’t like Molly Ringwald all that much. I never really liked Molly Ringwald, and I could never quite get through Pretty in Pink (1986) because of it.

But that feels like a reaction that’s not entirely equal to the current moment. In the past, the film’s refusal to answer the question of whether or not the characters would feel the same about each other on Monday as they did during their stint in detention was an optimistic choice, as we were allowed to believe that this Saturday had truly changed their adolescent lives. Not only were things back the way they were within the next week, by the end of April, 1984, I imagine they barely remembered anything that happened in March. I guess that is the cynicism that comes with time. It may not be the film’s fault.

Yes, this film proves to be largely less pointedly problematic as, say, Sixteen Candles (1984) seems to delight in being, but with a leering, abusive protagonist like John Bender (Nelson) at its core (and he is the hero of the piece, don’t kid yourself), the movie does seem to ever so slightly wilt as the years continue. That toxicity Bender delights in (and I’d venture to say might be Hughes’ true proxy in the piece) is pontificated on (among a larger reckoning with Hughesenalia) by Molly Ringwald in a recent piece for The New Yorker. I’d recommend you five the piece a read. It certainly moved me from being a dyed-in-the-wool supporter of the film to someone who wants to keep its true nature in perspective.

Maybe I need to finally get over my bullshit and watch Pretty in Pink all the way through.

Touch of Evil (1958)

Director: Orson Welles

Cast: Charlton Heston, Janet Leigh, Marlene Dietrich, Orson Welles

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. But I’m relatively certain I haven’t seen it since release of the restored version in 2008, which brought the film closer to the version detailed in Welles’ long-ignored notes made after Universal took the film away from him*.

Did I Like It: There are two things that stick in my mind most about this, one of Welles’ few studio-backed films. First, the conversation in Ed Wood (1994) between Wood (Johnny Depp) and Welles (Vincent D’Onofrio, but voiced by Maurice LaMarche**) where Welles complains that he’s about to make a thriller at Universal, and they’re insisting he cast “Charlton Heston as a Mexican.” Even Wood wouldn’t go that far. Essentially, this movie has all the trappings of a B-movie, and that is by no means meant as a dig. Gleeful, energetic, and as innovative as the form will allow (as directed by one of the few verifiable genius to have ever helmed a picture), it still is probably aggressively mis-cast, and every moment is meant to tantalize. It’s not art; it is pure entertainment.

And just as there’s nothing wrong with a film being a B-picture, there’s also nothing wrong with it being made for the sole purpose of entertainment. That’s because the second thing that always sticks in my mind about the movie is that opening shot. If ever a movie about corruption and explosions could reach for art, it was under this man and it would be this movie.

*If there’s one thing Orson Welles knew how to do, it was get a film taken away from him.

**Incidentally—and you know I’ve given this question at least an inch of thought—this is the best casting of Welles ever.

Addams Family Values (1993)

Director: Barry Sonnenfeld

Cast: Anjelica Huston, Raul Julia, Christopher Lloyd, Joan Cusack

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure.

Did I Like It: Now, this is more like it. One doesn’t immediately think of this film in that vaunted pantheon of sequels that far outpaced their predecessor, but this film maintains everything that worked about the first film. The lively performances remain, augmented by the addition of the always-welcome Carol Kane and Joan Cusack. Anjelica Huston and Raul Julia continue to imbue their roles with respectively droll menace and manic energy, that its hard to believe Julia had only a year left to live. The delightfully (if you’ll forgive the expression) kooky production design is here as well and completely undiminished. But this sequel places those parts that worked amidst a story that is far more coherent, and much more adroit in its humor. This is the family Addams perfected. It boggles the mind that—aside from the fact that they are a recognizable property—why they ever tried to go back to this well after this.

Both A and B plots here cover keep things so lively, that I’m not entirely certain which is the A and which is the B. Debbie Jellinsky (Cusack) bringing terror and matrimony in equal measure fuels everything else that happens, but the horror Wednesday (Christina Ricci, who faces the unfortunate reality of making her most iconic impact on cinema before reaching the age of 18) faces at the grim Camp Chippewa could have easily maintained a feature-length runtime on its own merits. 

All this typing about the Addams Family today, and all I want to do is play the pinball machine. I keep thinking I’m above cross-corporate synergy, but tie-ins from the 90s still have the ability to draw my attention. I find it blindingly frustrating I don’t already have that table loaded on to my iPad.

Young Frankenstein (1974)

Director: Mel Brooks

Cast: Gene Wilder, Peter Boyle, Marty Feldman, Cloris Leachman

Have I Seen it Before: Indeed. It was the movie my wife and I had watched on our first date, although I had seen it several times before then. To the best of my memory, I don’t think I’ve watched it since then.

Which is so weird I can’t even begin to wrap my head around it.

Did I Like It: I’m not even sure where to begin this review. This is by far the best movie Mel Brooks ever made. I’ve never been able to get over myself long enough to get into Blazing Saddles (1974)*, and while you might think I would be a devotee of Spaceballs (1987), but I’m not. Brooks’ swing for the sci-fi has two major problems in my mind. First, there’s never a moment of the film that doesn’t groan from the fact that it was clearly made in the `80s. Second, I never once get the sense that Brooks is terribly fond of any science fiction movie. Thus, the spoofing never rises above a joke factory, and Spaceballs never becomes a legitimate science fiction movie in any measurable way. All of Brooks’ films are funny**, only a few of them are special.

It might seem like I am spending an inordinate amount of time in my Young Frankenstein review talking about how much I don’t like Spaceballs, but the contrast is key. Every moment of Young Frankenstein feels like it would fit in quite well with the upper echelon (read: the early ones) of Universal monster movies. This has James Whale written all over it, and I get the sense that Brooks enjoyed a James Whale movie once or twice in his life. This cast is perfect. You know it is perfect because it might very well be possible that Madeline Khan is the weak link in the chain, which means it may have the greatest cast ever assembled for a film, as Madeline Khan could keep otherwise underwhelming films aloft through sheer force of will and personality.

*Despite my relative antipathy toward his western opus, it’s hard to fault somebody for making such an indelible one-two punch in film comedy inside of one 12-month period.

**Well, not you Dracula: Dead and Loving It (1995). Not all films are create equally, if I’m being honest.

The Addams Family (1991)

Director: Barry Sonnenfeld

Cast: Anjelica Huston, Raul Julia, Christopher Lloyd, Christina Ricci

Have I Seen it Before: Sure. It’s hard to think of this film as marketed to anyone other than children, and I would have been right in the sweet spot for that. How man TV-shows-turned-into-movies did I sit through in the `90s? How many of them were foisted on us by Paramount? I don’t even want to come up with a list.

Did I Like It: Is it possible for a movie to function on just performances and art direction, to the point where its entirely possible there never was a shooting script? I’d say there are about fifteen minutes of plot in the film’s 99 minute runtime, and that quarter of an hour doesn’t quite fit together. I’d dwell more on the question of whether the man played by Christopher Lloyd in this movie truly is Fester Addams, but the movie seems only marginally interested in answering the question, so why should I spend any more time on it?

That might indicate something is rotten at the core of the movie, but wall-to-wall the performances are fantastic. Any time one of these film-based-on-prior-IP, comparisons to the prior performers are natural, but aside from John Astin vs. Raul Julia, is there really any thinking of the cast from the TV show when watching this movie? What’s more, any time some new version of The Addams Family (I’m looking in your direction, the two recent computer-animated fils, which at least appear closer to the original cartoons by Charles Addams in The New Yorker) comes down the pike, are we not comparing those interlopers to the cast assembled here? Huston feels born to play the role in a way not seen before or since, with the possible exception of Patrick Stewart as Charles Xavier in X-Men (2000). Although largely a character actor who plays variations on the same theme whether he’s a psychotic cartoon, disgraced nuclear scientist, or a Klingon, Lloyd presents a new energy here. And Christina Ricci makes a compelling case for being the most interesting of the early-90s child stars here, imbibing Wednesday with the right proportions of menace and inquisitiveness. Without those qualities, the film likely would have collapsed in on itself, to say nothing of the eventual sequel.

I guess it is enough for the film to run solely on performance, but they have to be just that good to overcome any other weaknesses.

Hitchcock/Truffaut (2015)

Director: Kent Jones

Cast: Alfred Hitchcock, François Truffaut, Bob Balaban, Wes Anderson

Have I Seen it Before: Never. Although Hitchcock is certainly in the pantheon of great directors for me, I’m sad to say Truffaut barely registers for me, outside of his appearance in Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977). 

Did I Like It: It’s probably hoary in the extreme to proclaim that I would probably have liked the book better than the film, especially when I… ahem haven’t read the book, but nevertheless, that’s where I land on the subject. I picked this up from the local library, and the pull quote “This changed the way I see cinema”* certainly appealed to me, but I can’t help but wonder if that critic was also speaking about the book, too.

The documentary-as-literary-adaptation is a tricky needle to thread. I can’t readily think of an example of the form that accomplished anything more than being an afterthought. The whole prospect eschews the more interesting artistic aspects of the adaptation process, and leaves one going beyond the aforementioned tired cliche. It isn’t merely enough that the book feels like it would be a more fulfilling experience than the film. I’m not getting anything out of the film—in a truncated form, no less—that I couldn’t have gotten out of the book. Shouldn’t we all be wondering if reducing the documentary to televised Cliff’s Notes diminishes the form and the material?

Still, I do wonder what either Hitchcock or Truffaut might have said on the subject, so at least that’s something. If only there were a book I could obtain that would further illuminate their thoughts on the finer points of cinema…

*I don’t remember who said the quote. Indeed, who can ever remember the source of a pull-quote, aside from a stray “Two Thumbs Up” in the 90s…?

IT - Chapter One (2017)

Director: Andy Muschietti

Cast: Jaeden Lieberher, Bill Skarsgård, Jeremy Ray Taylor, Sophie Lillis

Have I Seen it Before: I can’t believe I look back on seeing this in the theater as a simpler time, but I do… It’s hard to forget how terrifying in an unhinged sort of way that the “slideshow” scene was. I wasn’t even 100% sure what had happened in that scene, and it was only about 2:00 AM that following morning before I realized I had neglected to fall asleep in favor of trying to decode on a cinematic level what happened in just that scene.

Did I Like It: It’s unfortunate that IT - Chapter Two (2019) was such a befuddling disappointment, because this film ends up getting the short shrift in that deal. Whereas the conclusion so thoroughly misses the mark in every possible way (while at the same time not winding up completely embarrassing), this film capitalizes on every potential pitfall and turns it into an opportunity to make a better film.

Skarsgård has the tallest task on spec, as Tim Curry is the only consistently good thing about the first, made-for-TV adaptation It (1990). Literally no other performer in either parts of this new adaptation has been compared to their predecessor (or later on, the adults, although I did have some thoughts on Bill Hader vs. Harry Anderson). The new Pennywise acquits himself well and becomes just as iconic as his predecessor, which was no small accomplishment. His Pennywise harnesses some of the stranger elements from the source material and makes the entity less merely a murderous clown and more the ancient evil from within cosmos that he always could have been. His is the only thing that survives two movies essentially unscathed.

But the movie’s true secret weapon lies with the kids. Casting a batch of Losers could have been a big swing and a miss, but not only does each of the kids indelibly occupy their role (although Mike Hanlon (Chosen Jacobs) gets far less development than the character deserves), but they have such a seemingly genuine chemistry amongst one another that I can almost understand Muschietti’s impulse to keep the kids in the second part, even though their stories are effectively concluded here. Now, if only they had managed to pull that off the second time around… If it helps, I think the story of the children might just be more interesting than the adults, and Chapter Two never really had a chance.

Night at the Museum (2006)

Director: Shawn Levy

Cast: Ben Stiller, Carla Gugino, Dick Van Dyke, Robin Williams

Have I Seen it Before: Never. Which elicited a shocked response and an immediate vow to rectify from my wife… I didn’t know it was so important. I’m hesitant to admit—even if it may be implied—that I’ve never seen the sequels, either.

Did I Like It: It’s hard not to like a movie like this. It was very carefully orchestrated to be pleasing and unchallenging. 

The story all fits together, if unremarkably. It’s not astonishingly funny at any moment, but any kid who saw it way back when couldn’t have been judged too harshly for cackling at the antics on display. There’s even enough of a current of intellectual curiosity at the core of the movie—with the possible byproduct of encouraging kids to actually want to visit a museum. It wouldn’t appeal only to stupid kids, or make otherwise bright children any dumber. That’s more than we can expect from many films aimed at children.

Every actor is likable, and selected for the specific purpose of being imminently likable. Indeed, is there another performer in the history of the moving picture more able to elicit those sort of feelings than Dick Van Dyke? Even Robin Williams was in One Hour Photo, and for that matter, Popeye (1980). That’s kind of a strange miracle in a film which features Ricky Gervais, a performer whose built an entire career out of being iconically unlikable.

Is it wrong for a film to be bland in this fashion? I think not, it has modest goals and largely accomplishes them. It’s not subversive in the slightest, and while one may be implied to knock the film for not reaching for more, is it more a knock against a studio system no longer capable of making children’s fare that is at all subversive. Then again, across all criteria, I may very well be the unreasonable one for even wanting something like that.

Halloween Kills (2021)

Director: David Gordon Green

Cast: Jamie Lee Curtis, Judy Greer, Andi Matichak, Will Patton

Have I Seen it Before: Nope. Two new movies in such a short amount of time. What an embarrassment of riches. I caught the movie on Peacock because a) Still not entirely sure who would be breathing on me in a movie theater, so if there’s another option, why not go for it and b) I can take a watch through the shockingly good Saved by the Bell relaunch.

Wasn’t thinking one of my reviews of the Halloween movies would include a reference to Saved by the Bell, but here we are…

Did I Like It: Hawkins (Patton) lives! Is that enough for a review? Probably not. I so enjoyed that character, and was injured by his apparent death in the last film, I’m willing to give the whole affair a pass.

As a sequel to Green’s Halloween (2018), it is probably safe to say that this film isn’t the same uniformly satisfying experience. I think that, largely, is fueling some of the negative reaction* to the film. Characters are introduced (in many cases, reintroduced) at a lightning pace, and disposed of nearly as quickly. Jamie Lee Curtis—such a vital, essential presence in the last film—is relegated to a hospital bed for the runtime, echoing some of the stranger decisions in Halloween II (1981). I don’t buy for a moment that the men who live in the Myers house now are somehow the only people in town who weren’t aware (or suspected, or were ready to form a mob because) Myers was on a rampage again. The film is perhaps a bit too obsessed with the mythology of the character that I can’t help but get the sinking feeling the next film will commit that most odious sin and try to explain Myers.

The shape (if you’ll forgive the expression) of this trilogy is incomplete, and so this film might end up being remembered as something of a fundamental mess, or perhaps just a victim of the middle-trilogy syndrome. I get the sense that Green and Company have some very specific ideas for what the forthcoming Halloween Ends will look like, and this movie is largely a clearing house from the last film, when it isn’t obsessed with setting the table for the next.

But there are plenty of things to like about the film. The flashbacks to 1978 (a sequence which was attempted for the last movie, but cut for budgetary reason) are great fun, and only add to the hero that is Sheriff Hawkins. When the film finally unleashes in its final minutes, it does so in a rather surprising fashion. A Carpenter score is a Carpenter score, and you can never go wrong with it.

Ultimately, any review really must exist in context. Anyone who hates this movie is either so weighed down by unreasonable expectations, determined to react to every movie in bad faith, or has not watched any of the other films recently. I watched all of them in the last week, and it’s clear this is one of the better films to feature Michael Audrey Myers, just not the best.

*Interesting note. Peacock posts the current Rotten Tomatoes score on the HUD when the movie is paused or just starting to play. The film’s score went up a whole percent while we watched the vanity cards. I’ve never seen the consensus change (to very nearly fresh, no less) as I started watching a film.

No Time To Die (2021)

Director: Cary Joji Fukunaga

Cast: Daniel Craig, Rami Malek, Léa Seydoux, Lashana Lynch

Have I Seen it Before: Where to even begin with a question like that? The film was originally scheduled to be released in April of 2020. I had even scheduled some time off to make a day of it.

We all know what happened there.

In fact, this is the first new movie* since Birds of Prey (2020) I’ve seen in the theater. This is also the first new movie showing only in theaters that I had any interest in seeing immediately. When it comes to Bond, it feels like the biggest screen possible is the way to go, so I booked a seat on Monday afternoon at the biggest theater I could find…

…and it was nearly abandoned, because the world is still pretty fucked up, right? It’s almost as if the theatrical experience is less about the collective experience** of a film and more about the seeing epic cinematography on the largest palette possible in a room that naturally eschews distractions.

I’m also struck by the little pieces of the theatrical experience. Seeing a melange of trailers, and being thoroughly disinterested in some (Jackass Forever) and being completely entranced by others which had not really been on my radar up until that point (Last Night in Soho). It had also been an astonishingly long time since I sat in a dark room, waiting for things to get started, and the prevailing thought I have racing through my mind is: “Did I forget to lock my car? I’m not going all the way out to the parking lot to check.

It was almost like it was early 2020 again. If only for a moment.

Did I Like It: Whew. After all that, is there anything left to talk about?

Plenty.

I’ve always thought On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969) was a throughly underrated entry in the Bond series. It’s scope is top-notch, it’s (relatively) grounded story harkens to the best that Ian Fleming’s books had to offer. The final moment is heartbreaking, and only undercut by the fact that Connery isn’t in the role so we could watch what was left of his heart break. He could have also torn through Diamonds Are Forever (1971) like a wild animal, instead of what we got… Even if Lazenby had either decided or been allowed to stick around in the role, that wrenching pathos might have been there in retrospect. Given that he was a one-off, that moment doesn’t quite reach the heights it could have.

Well, now we’re here.

I might say that this film owes a bit too much to Service, having to create at least part of its context through references to that earlier film’s dialogue and soundtrack. This is ultimately a minor complaint, because Craig’s longevity in role establishes that context in spades. It makes the story of his Bond a complete one, and earns that pathos.

There had always been a disconnect in the series (both in print and on film) where Bond’s more prurient impulses are often written off to an acute sense of mortality, but there’s never a moment where his continuing, perpetual survival is in doubt. That’s no longer the case. The film might be a little on the engorged side, and this only serves to make the climax perhaps an inch too intricate for its own good, but those are minor concerns, especially when we’re less than twenty years away from Die Another Day (2002).

I don’t know where the series may go from here, but I’m delighted by the possibilities. I stayed until the very end of the credits to ensure that, indeed, “James Bond will return.” 

Some might complain about a degree of demasculinization for the character, but I’m not with this line of thinking in the slightest. I’ve been walking a little bit taller and a bit more confidently now, days after I took in the film. Both this film and Craig’s time in the role will be remembered as all-time heights for the series. I’d say the potential complainers need to get over themselves, but I don’t need to tell them that. They’re going to get over it all on their own without my help.

*Since getting my full round of vaccinations, I have been to anniversary screenings of Fargo (1996) and Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986).

**Come to think of it, more often than not, the majority of other people are a thing to endure in a movie theater. In this instance, all I needed was one person to blurt out something along the lines of “This kinda crap would never have happened when Roger Moore was around!” to bring down the whole experience.