Monthly Archives: May 2024
Van Helsing (2004) [Review Re-View]
Originally released May 7, 2004:
Crossover movies have a distasteful history in the world of cinema. Some movie exec gets the notion, “Hey, why can’t two great tastes taste great together?” But what we’re left with is usually uninspired (The Flintstones Meet the Jetsons notwithstanding). Crossovers for horror movies are the worst of the lot. For every Freddy vs. Jason there’s a dud, like 1966’s Jesse James meets Frankenstein’s Daughter. That year went down in the annals of cinematic history, however, as it also gave us Billy the Kid versus Dracula, marking two entries in the expanding genre of cowboys battling famous monsters (as far as I know, this genre still stands at two movies). So what can one expect from Van Helsing, a big-budget creature feature that includes Dracula, Frankenstein, and the Wolfman?
Van Helsing (Hugh Jackman and a really big hat) is a secret soldier for a covert order of the Vatican. This covert order dispatches monsters and creepy-crawlies the world over. He’s been ordered to assist Anna Valerious (Kate Beckinsale), the last in a Romanian family line that has sought to kill the infamous Dracula (Richard Roxburgh). It seems that their family line is dwindling. And Anna’s brother being turned into a werewolf doesn’t help the situation. If her family line dies before Dracula then they cannot enter heaven. Van Helsing comes to town to help out the locals who are terrorized by Dracula’s flying brides. Van Helsing effectively kills one of the vamp ladies and is celebrated as a hero by the village. As he gets closer to Anna he also learns more about his own mysterious past and his connection to a certain figure with big teeth.
The Big D has a dastardly plan. He wants to find Frankenstein’s monster (Shuler Hensley) to channel enough power through him to awaken zillions of goo-sacks harboring the vamp’s undead brood. Of course, Frankenstein’s monster isn’t too keen on this. Together, he and Van Helsing, with the help of Anna as well as a comic relief monk, battle to stop Dracula from unleashing his children of the night.
Van Helsing is stupid, stupid, stupid. Director Stephen Sommers exists in his own indulgent world where bigger is better and some CGI spackle will fix any plot holes. He makes check-your-brain-at-the-door popcorn movies, but a “popcorn movie” is no excuse to forgive a rambling, incoherent, loud, stupid mess. I liked the first Mummy flick and even found some good with the second, but Van Helsing is Sommers at his rock-bottom worst, gorging on a trough of special effects and vomiting the results onto the big screen. Sommers’ idea of character development is knocking people through walls like they were in a Looney Tunes cartoon.
Van Helsing raises some interesting questions, like why do Dracula’s brides morph into flying demons that are conveniently genitalia-free? Why does a werewolf rolling over the top of a carriage somehow cause it to catch on fire? Why does Dracula keep his magic lycanthropy cure in the open? It doesn’t matter. Van Helsing is so straight-laced about its absurdities that questioning them will just get tiresome.
Not that you would expect much, but the acting in Van Helsing is bad. Beckinsale’s accent couldn’t be less convincing if her role were played by Charo. The trio of Dracula’s brides are played by swimsuit models and let me just say their performance is on par with what you would expect from swimsuit models. Roxburgh is quite possibly the worst vampire in the modern history of vampires, and that includes Blacula, Count Chocula and Tom Cruise. He couldn’t look any less sinister if he was in a diaper and bonnet. What’s up with those strands of hair that dangle in his face? Why do the Van Helsing creators want their Prince of Evil and son of Satan to look like he was the keyboardist for some 80s pop synth band?
This overly long film feels like a seven-year-old’s book report that he hasn’t read: it’s like a child is making this up as they go. “And then … a werewolf pops up … and then Dracula’s flying brides … and then they all need Frankenstein’s monster ….” Seriously, were the penning this script on the fly? It’s a $150 million improv film. The reels of the film could be switched around and no one would be able to tell the difference. Van Helsing is one long, exasperated action sequence that drags its heels instead of wowing. It beats the audience into submission with its stupidity and redundancy.
The entertainment level of Van Helsing is exceedingly weak. It runs an eternity, which wouldn’t be a problem if one were intrigued by the story, the characters, or the action sequences. The action could have been suitable but Sommers has gotten less reliant on the physical and more superfluous with his CGI. Watching a CGI monstrosity smash into a CGI monstrosity before a CGI background where no semblance of reality is present grows tiresome after 130 minutes. The effects are passable, but they overload the viewer and numb whatever slight interest may have existed for the classic monsters.
What should have been a clever homage turns instead into a hollow marketing ploy that’s so frenetic and tireless with its manic pacing and bad special effects. Even the many attempts at humor are flat. It has to be some kind of apocalyptic sign that Hellboy and now Van Helsing have been unleashed unto the innocents of this world. Some will find Van Helsing decent popcorn entertainment, but most will grow weary of its sloppy design and wafer-thin substance. For me, this is one to avoid, period. There isn’t an ounce of fun to be had while sitting through the painful pair of hours that is Van Helsing. This is one monster mash that’s a real monster mess.
Nate’s Grade: D
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WRITER REFLECTIONS 20 YEARS LATER
In 2004, Van Helsing was being primed to be not just a blockbuster but the forerunner for a new interconnected franchise revitalizing the classic Universal horror icons. Director Stephen Sommers was hot off the success of the first two Mummy movies, Hugh Jackman had become a household name playing everyone’s favorite growling superhero, and Kate Beckinsale had proven her own box-office mettle fighting vampires and werewolves in the Underworld series. The studio was expecting so much that it planned a sequel, a TV series on NBC called Transylvania, an animated prequel, a clothing line, a video game, maybe even theme park additions, and to maintain the Eastern European sets so that they could be utilized for the eventual show and sequels. Obviously, this never came to pass, and Sommers’ last big Hollywood action movie was the 2009 G.I. Joe movie, and he hasn’t directed a movie since 2013’s Odd Thomas adaptation. He chose not to direct the third Mummy movie in 2008, but it seems like this man’s career has never been the same since Van Helsing cratered in the summer of 2004. It began as the studio asking Sommers for even more monster movies, Sommers pitching them all together as an Avengers-style super movie, the studio getting carried away with larger plans of franchise dominance, and then when it didn’t materialize, a promising popcorn filmmaker in the highest blockbuster sphere just vanished in a poof of overzealous CGI.
Me wife’s crush circa 2004
In 2004, I did not like Van Helsing. That might be too charitable a description. I wrote in my original review, “Van Helsing is stupid, stupid, stupid. [Sommers] exists in his own indulgent world where bigger is better and some CGI spackle will fix any plot holes. He makes check-your-brain-at-the-door popcorn movies, but a ‘popcorn movie’ is no excuse to forgive a rambling, incoherent, loud, stupid mess.” It was one of my worst movies of 2004, and twenty years later, I’ve mostly come around on the movie. I won’t tell you that it’s a great movie, or even achieves that same magic alchemy of action-adventure swash buckle that The Mummy brought back to major studio filmmaking in 1999, but Van Helsing is enjoyably ridiculous schlock nonsense. It was also one of my wife’s favorite movies growing up, and she reminded me that her teenage self had a big crush on Richard Roxburgh’s version of Dracula, not Hugh.
I now view Van Helsing less as a horror monster action vehicle and more of a spy vehicle in a strange world. The titular Van Helsing is our secret agent complete with spy gadgets with his comedic relief sidekick, and he’s got his important missions and the sexy Bond Girl, and the villains and betrayals and added back-story that doesn’t seem even necessary. It’s Sommers taking the structure of a spy thriller and supplanting it onto a Victorian-era monster steampunk universe of demons and centuries-old church conspiracies. Jackman is enjoyably suave as the Vatican’s favorite killing machine learning his own life lessons about the nature of legacy. I even enjoyed the villain’s motivation for Dracula; he’s trying to learn the secrets of Dr. Frankenstein’s reanimation to ensure that his vampy babies survive. Here is a Dracula who is bereft because he cannot father living children. I suppose there could be further discussion over the different forms of life as converting humans into vampires is itself a rebirth. Perhaps the distinction is like the difference between having biological children and adopted children. Maybe dear old Drac just wants to have a bundle of joy he can call his own. That’s more interesting than versions that make him out to be some stalker ex-boyfriend. Likewise, the role of Anna (Beckinsale) is given more pathos than simply being the Strong Romani Badass. While her wardrobe consists of corsets and teased hair to appeal to a young male demo, her character’s mission is powerful and personal. Anna needs to kill Dracula not to save herself but to ensure the rest of her deceased family members can enter heaven. Talk about cumulative family guilt. That’s heavy. When her face appears in the clouds at the end like Mufasa, it’s a confirmation of generational rest. That’s an arc that’s more fulfilling than being any love interest that would be discarded later.
As soon as it got rolling, I said to my wife that this was going to go one of two ways: Van Helsing will learn that his organization is not as righteous as he believed them to be, manipulating him to eliminate threats to the organization’s standing rather than threats to humanity; or Dracula and Van Helsing have a personal connection that hasn’t been fully examined. Dear reader, it went in both directions because Sommers is slapping so many plot elements to make this movie feel full to bursting like a bloated tick. There’s ideas stacked upon ideas here, references and unexplored plot points for an untapped universe (vampires started werewolves?). An hour in, all of Dracula’s bats, a.k.a. his children have been slain, and you may erroneously think the movie is over. Well, there’s a whole other castle to explore with even more baby bats to kill. The last hour operates on pure video game mechanics of, go here, grab this item, battle this mini-boss. There’s definitely a level of redundancy and a “more is more” kitchen sink excess philosophy, but the bombast is part of his general appeal. There’s a touch of Sam Raimi here, a touch of Michael Bay; schlock with sheen. Maybe it was my nostalgia goggles, or maybe I was just attuning to Sommers’ wavelength, but the movie worked for me much better in 2024 as I was now charmed by its goofball sensibilities and less irritated by its over-plotted script.
You feel the admirable passion that Sommers has for this universe, adopting stylish pastiches to celebrate the older movies and lore, but definitely bringing his more modern sensibilities to the forefront. There’s a certain chaotic energy that animates Sommers big movies, bringing these classic characters together to run amok and crash into each other. That little kid’s imagination given the whole sandbox to play in can be enviable and lively, and it can also lead into unexpected directions that unexpectedly go nowhere. The incorporation of Frankenstein’s monster (Shuler Hensely) is more a plot device than a thoughtful character to bring to the team. He’s the magical MacGuffin both sides are fighting to claim for their own. Van Helsing’s major crime is trying too much and being too straight-laced about its silly. It’s not winking to the audience, it’s not self-commenting on its absurdities, it’s just living them lavishly. In 2004, I couldn’t appreciate that and this movie, and now I can find a place in my heart for such fun.
My original review in 2004 is scathing, with ready-to-blurb snark trying to communicate the intensity of my distaste. The line that Sommers is “gorging on a trough of special effects and vomiting the results onto the big screen” sticks with me. I’m surprised I restrained myself from making a “Van Helsing sucks” comment. Several of my criticisms about the acting, the confusing rules, the convoluted storytelling are entirely valid, but they just don’t bother me enough twenty years later. I can relax and enjoy the movie because it is a mess. That doesn’t mean every flawed movie deserves kindly dismissing its faults if it doesn’t aspire to anything other than mass entertainment. Big movies for big audiences can still be big bad. I think Van Helsing’s appeal is how sloppy it is and how excessive every element plays. In another universe, a… “dark universe” to borrow a phrase that came to me for no reason, this could have kicked off the interconnected Universal monster movies (any reference to Egyptian mummies is absent, implying perhaps that Sommers earlier movies exist in a shared world). It was not to be, and Sommers’ career has never been the same since, which is a real shame. The blockbuster space needs a filmmaker like Sommers, a man nimble enough to juggle tones and childlike glee with darker humor. Come back, Stephen Sommers, and maybe try your hand at the Creature From the Black Lagoon while you’re at it.
Nate’s Grade: C+
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Atlas (2024)
In the world of Netflix releases, it’s hard to judge what is gauged as a success. Take for instance their new sci-fi action movie Atlas. It cost the streaming giant $100 million and they now tout it as being the top movie across the globe on their platform. This could very well be true, though Netflix has long been cagey about sharing their viewing numbers, instead preferring to go with the, “Hey, just trust us, okay?” defense, which hasn’t exactly been reassuring in an era where bonuses are linked to number hits. With the ever-expanding catalog of titles, being a reported hit on Netflix can sometimes feel like being, say, Homecoming Queen from 1989, an accomplishment soon eclipsed and forgotten. What was the last big Netflix action movie that had cultural staying power, that caused people to continue to discuss weeks or months later? Netflix swears their most-watched movie is 2021’s Red Notice, a star-laden breezy adventure caper that I challenge anyone to remember much about besides its stars. This is the challenge of gaining traction in a world of near endless content choices. Atlas is an above average film benefiting from a strong character dynamic at its core even if the rest of its story elements feel forgettably disposable.
Atlas (Jennifer Lopez) is a data analyst who has also helped develop Earth’s orbital security system. An A.I. program/robot named Harlan (Simu Liu) was born from Atlas’ mother, and then Harlan went and murdered millions of humans. The killer robot fled Earth with his robotic followers and Earth has been awaiting his return for decades. Atlas joins a mission to land on a distant planet where they think Harlan has operated as his base. However, Atlas must work with an A.I. program inside her mech suit that calls itself Smith. In order for them both to survive in this new world, they must work together.
I found everything within the mech suit of Atlas to be engaging and dynamic, and everything that happens outside that giant suit to be underdeveloped and mediocre. I was genuinely surprised how Atlas essentially becomes a buddy survival movie. It’s the human who is distrustful of accepting help from others and especially from advanced technology with a mind of its own, and an A.I. program that is trying to improve its capabilities by getting to know its user and learning how to grow from her. They need each other to survive and that requires a trust and relationship to be fostered, and it’s a surefire enjoyable plot to watch two enemies become allies and maybe even friends over the course of their united struggles. The growth between them also feels relatively organic, coming at a natural progression with personal insights and offerings without clunky leading dialogue lines, like, “So why don’t you trust robots, huh?” This dynamic reminded me a bit of 2004’s I, Robot where Will Smith played a detective who hates robots who has to work with a robot and the two of them form a bond (there are other similarities I’ll get to later). Much of the movie takes place within a three-foot window from the capsule inside this mech suit, and the shared struggle between Atlas and Smith is the heart of the movie, and it’s actually quite good. Both of these characters find ways to surprise one another, both of them shed preconceptions, and both of them will discover the lengths they go to protect the other even if it puts their own existence in question. As a story about a woman and her robot, Atlas is a fun and fairly involving sci-fi buddy movie adventure.
Now, the world building and story that gets Atlas to this alien world, and the escalating stakes of world destruction are where the movie dissipates into an amorphous cloud of sci-fi action keywords. I don’t know why it had to be killer terrorist robots that brought out Atlas and her team of mech-suited warriors to this foreign planet. The reason why the characters are stranded on this unknown planet is unimportant. It could just as likely be a science team exploring a potential new habitable world for an Earth burning through its natural resources too quickly. It could be exploring the remnants of a possible alien civilization. It could even simply be the closest planet available during a distress from their spaceship going down for whatever mechanical or orbital obstruction. The story is about the relationship between the human being and the robot/A.I. working together to survive in an unfamiliar and hostile land.
The robot insurrection feels like an acceptable plot device but it’s so under-explored until the movie needs to dramatically escalate the stakes into an apocalyptic cataclysmic scale. The fact that Harlan, which let’s agree is a terrible name for the villain of your movie, determines that the best way to save humanity is to annihilate humanity is already a tragically familiar refrain we’ve heard from numerous sci-fi villains, from The Hunger Games to Infinity War to The Day the Earth Stood Still to even I, Robot. In that last movie, the A.I. system determines the only way to protect humanity is through controlling and ultimately eliminating them, and this same motivation comes to Harlan. This character is introduced as our Big Bad through an opening montage, he disappears, and then only comes back at the end to be a force to threaten Earth. The entire robot uprising is so tremendously underwritten that the movie doesn’t even do the barest whiff of ambiguity to question whether humanity has been mistreating its robot servant class. Instead, Harlan is introduced right away as a terrorist figure and stays true to this characterization. I thought that Act Three would be upending for Atlas, where she learns the robots were framed or at least the conflict is more nuanced and her “side” might be more culpable than the military’s cover story. Nope. Evil Robot King is simply Evil Robot King. Fine, he’s a boring killbot, but then why go to such lengths to provide a personal connection for Atlas and Harlan. It’s unnecessary when she has to stop the killer robot from killing the Earth; we don’t need a personal connection for this to work. The level of personal guilt attached to Atlas is ridiculous, including multiple levels of tragedy that feel far too overwrought. Atlas didn’t need to feel guilty over her involvement in developing Evil Robot King as a child; she could have been simply the daughter to the woman who unintentionally brought this killer tech forward, or she could have simply been a woman who experienced a tragedy linked to the robot uprising without having a mom who developed the technology. She could just be a victim. She doesn’t have to be the first victim.
Atlas is really a one woman show, so your feelings of Lopez (Hustlers) as an actress will dominate how you feel about the overall experience. I don’t know if Atlas is made substantially better with her as the lead actress but she certainly performs ably and doesn’t seem left unmoored by the fact that she’s talking to a voice in an empty space for most of her months filming. Lopez has a determination that gives her action novice character an underlying strength to tap into upon the call of action.
As a sci-fi action spectacle, the blockbuster aspects are sufficient for our casual entertainment fulfillment. The special effects and action are pretty solid under director Brad Peyton (San Andreas, Rampage) who knows his way assuredly around effects-heavy spectacle (he was also co-creator of the delightfully daffy 2019 Netflix apocalyptic series Daybreak). Much of the movie takes place within one mech suit, but I never felt a sense of visual claustrophobia thanks to the buddy dynamic and Peyton’s use of space. The big action sequences at the end have their share of impressive cool moments, but they also benefit from coming at the end of a character relationship that has helped to make the action more satisfying. I do lament the modern trend of filming on such large green screens or LED stages that lighting is always the same bright overhead setting without significant variance with shadows and other light sources.
If you’re looking for a Netflix action movie to divert your attention, or even barely pay attention to, then you could do far worse than Atlas. It might even hold your attention and keep you engaged thanks to the fun buddy film dynamic that serves as its foundation. There are plenty of elements that feel tacked on, underdeveloped, or blandly familiar, but the core works and Atlas is worth a couple hours of escapism.
Nate’s Grade: B
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Furiosa (2024)
Mad Max: Fury Road is not just a movie for me, it is without a doubt one of my favorite movies of all time, and watching any moment of this 2015 masterpiece elicits pure, unrestrained joy, a feeling of elevation pure and simple. It’s the kind of euphoric response we all look for with art and, tragically, find too rarely, and for me, Fury Road is my divine experience. Even after having watched the movie over a dozen times, I can still slip it on and feel the same rising excitement, amusement, and happiness like it was all happening for the first time. I was a fan of director George Miller’s other wild post-apocalyptic entries, but Fury Road was different, as also evidenced by the fact that it nabbed six Oscars that year and was also nominated for Best Director for Miller and Best Picture. The totality of this artistic achievement seems certainly impossible to replicate. Over decades of development, Miller and his many collaborators fashioned plenty of material about life in the deserted Wasteland and its colorful characters battling for survival among the scavenged scraps of humanity, so there was always more room for more stories. That’s what brings us to Furiosa, the prequel explaining the back-story that turned a child prisoner into the ferocious one-armed Imperator of Imorrtan Joe. As a Fury Road super fan, I was hoping against hope to feel a little bit of that same unique artistic high again.
Young Furiosa (Anna Taylor-Joy) is kidnapped from her mother and sold into slavery. Her main tormentor, Dementus (Chris Hemsworth), is the head of a marauding biker gang. Furiosa spends years rising through Immortan Joe’s ranks to gain her vengeance.
This is not Fury Road, to its benefit, and Furiosa is inexorably linked to Fury Road, which is also a mixed blessing. I kept telling myself, “It’s not Fury Road, and nothing can be, so don’t hold it to that standard.” Furiosa is not Fury Road. It’s slower, longer, and more plot heavy, taking its time to build around the edges of the world we were introduced to in 2015. Miller spends much of those two-plus hours filling in the missing pieces and histories of the other communities, like Gastown and the Bullet Farm, as well as the factional war between the different warlords and their territories. We also get an opening set in the much-heralded Green Place before it becomes the spoiled swamps. We get to see the construction of the war rig over time (it’s so shiny and chrome before collecting all that grime and singing). It fills out the wider world of Fury Road as well as the character connections and conflicts, so for those fans who felt Fury Road was lacking in its world building and overall plotting (the oft-spoken complaint that the movie is all about a woman turning left), this new movie might prove more appealing.
For me, dear reader, it made me reflect how Fury Road just hits the ground running and doesn’t let up, providing clues to the larger dystopian world that it lets you piece together, and I did. It was sufficient for me to get a sense of this world and its ongoing relationships and conflicts. What was implied in Fury Road is explicit in Furiosa, although there’s still plenty elided, like when we’re shown the 40-Day Wasteland War but only as a quick montage of violent images. In some ways, it reminds me of a director’s cut where the added material feels a tad secondary by nature, adding some better context and shaping but making you question whether that context was needed. Because the movie is tied to the events of Fury Road it can’t help but exist in its mighty shadow, ending in a very Rogue One fashion as it immediately sets up the story to be handed off, with clips from Fury Road playing throughout the end credits. I’m glad it wasn’t merely trying to replicate the same kind of entertainment as Fury Road, but I can’t help but feel slightly disappointed with Furiosa as it feels a bit overlong, unfocused, and extraneous.
Miller’s dystopia is crazy and unique and the mayhem is energetic and enchanting, so I’ll happily spend two more hours in this gonzo Aussie universe, and while the highs might not be as uniformly high as my experience with Fury Road, there’s still a significant entertainment value in returning to this extraordinary world. Is there anything that comes close to the sheer glory of the action of Fury Road? Well, no. The action sequences are solid with a few nifty moments of sustained imagination and intensity, like the war rig’s first run that combats against raiders floating around their targeted prize in parachutes. I felt similar rousing feelings of discovery and immersion. The Bullet Farm attack has some great moving pieces that culminates in the biggest destruction of the movie. The action is still fun and morbidly cheeky, even if the effects used feel a little more cleanly green screen prevalent this time atop the moving vehicles. Fury Road is a monumental achievement and testament to the lasting appeal of practical in-camera effects, but it heavily used computer generated effects too, primarily for cleaning up the wire work as well as enhancing and replacing backgrounds. So the inclusion of computer effects in Furiosa isn’t new for the franchise, but it feels more noticeable and thus mildly distracting. It’s all intentionally smaller-scaled even as it’s looking at a wider scope of its weird universe.
The most interesting part of Furiosa is its primary villain, a wannabe fascist gang leader who proves repeatedly to be incompetent. Dementus has great presence, large and imposing and being drawn by a literal chariot of motorcycles. Hemsworth (Thor: Love and Thunder) is great and clearly having a ball, but what I loved even more about this villainous rogue is how hilariously bad he is at management. He’s the feared leader of a gang angling for respect and power, but he’s incapable of being more than posturing and sloganeering, and his huckster carny voice only solidifies this shading. He’s an unpredictable character, an agent of chaos, and he even undermines the established order of Immortan Joe and the other warlords who disdain him. I enjoyed little character touches like he keeps changing his moniker, going from Dr. Dementus to the Red Dementus (after being too close to a flare gun explosion). I appreciated that the final confrontation is also the talkiest scene in the entire movie, allowing both members ample time to state their perspectives, animosity, and fascination with one another (“No shame in hate. It’s one of the greatest forces of nature”). However, this climactic showdown 140 minutes in the making could have been even more impactful had the sprawling script not shelved Dementus for so long. This character drops out for long stretches of the movie and his absence is dearly missed.
Originally, Miller intended to have Charlize Theron reprise her role as Furiosa by using cutting-edge de-aging computer effects, but after seeing 2019’s The Irishman he reconsidered (good call, George). In steps wide-eyed Anna Taylor Joy, who acquits herself fine, though doesn’t show up as the (younger) adult Furiosa for maybe forty-five minutes. This version of Furiosa speaks very minimally, so much of her intensity must be delivered through her eyes, so why not hire an actress with such striking and large eyes? The whites of her eyes are so notable that it reminded me of cartoons where we see floating white eyeballs whenever it’s unrepentantly dark. She also sounds exceptionally close to Theron’s voice at a few spots that it made me do a double-take.
Furiosa lacks the streamlined beauty of Fury Road, its immediacy and visceral energy that radiates from being dropped into the madness and keeping things in propulsive motion. It was also Miller’s first trip back to the Wasteland since 1985’s Beyond Thunderdome, so it was a 30-year leap for Miller to expand his crazy artistic vision onto an even broader modern canvas. Each one of the Mad Max films have existed on a mythical plane, eschewing ongoing continuity and treating Max like a drifter coming into a strange new world and aiding people in need. This is the first Mad Max movie, also minus Max, that attempts to connect to one of the other movies, and in doing so it’s less about creating its own identity than modifying an established identity. It’s different but also lesser. This is a longer and slower movie, but it’s also got fun action and zany humor and visual decadence. There is far more plot and world building, but it’s also only mildly interesting and too attenuated, feeling like fat cut off from the non-stop action movie sizzle that is Fury Road. I can declare Furiosa as a good movie and also a mild disappointment as well, but that’s coming from a Fury Road super fan. Perhaps I am merely coming to terms with my expectations being overinflated, to try and stubbornly catch that magic feeling once again. Witness me and celebrate Miller’s latest as it also makes me celebrate Fury Road even more.
Nate’s Grade: B
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The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes (2023)
Who exactly was watching The Hunger Games and thought to themselves, I wonder if this evil old fascist dictator played by Donald Sutherland was ever young and sexy and in love? Well fear not, whomever you are, because 2023 gave us the adaptation of The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes, the far too long adaptation of Suzanne Collins’ prequel book, thus granting the studio more material to grind into products. I guess we should all be grateful that this wasn’t stretched into two movies like the original plan. Taking place 60 years prior to the events of the first movie, young Coriolanus Snow (Tom Blyth) is trying to financially secure his family’s safety in the Capitol, and he’s also mentoring one of the district combatant’s in the tenth annual Hunger Games death match. His charge is District 12’s Lucy Gray Baird (Rachel Zegler), a feisty Romani-esque young woman who uses song as her vehicle for rebellion, and young Snow has to coach her to victory if he has any hope of righting his family’s lost standing. Fortunately, the Hunger Games behind-the-scenes coordination and development is interesting, and filled with top-level actors living it up in these outsized roles (Viola Davis, you national treasure). The deadly games themselves are confined to one dilapidated arena and are visually engaging even in such a limited space. Unfortunately, the would-be Romeo and Juliet romance between Snow and Lucy Gray is far less engaging, and young Snow proves to be a handsome bore. There was potential here in exploring the origin of a monster but the villainy seems awfully contrived to push him along on an arc, with several drastic personal decisions absent believable development. We’re talking big character leaps here, the kind that I can’t even really explain except, “Well, I guess he just had it in him the whole time.” The hazy rationalization and rushed development reminded me of Anakin Skywalker’s underwhelming descent into the dark side. Songbirds & Snakes is only really going to work for the diehard fans of the franchise asking for a little more time in this dystopian universe and daydreaming about the washboard abs and baby blue eyes of their favorite older fascist.
Nate’s Grade: C+
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Dune: Part Two (2024)
I wasn’t fully taken with the first Dune movie when it arrived in 2021. It was visually sweeping, with dense world building and careful development of characters and themes, but then it just hit the pause button without any certainty there would be a conclusion. Thankfully, director Denis Villanueuve was able to complete his vision, and what a spectacular science fiction landscape this man has fashioned, visually resplendent but also with a story that deepens and improves on all the promise and setup from 2021. The triumphant of Paul (Timothee Chalamet) becoming a hero and avenging his father from their betrayers is tempered by the tragedy of Paul, becoming the false messiah that will bring about mass genocide. The movie doesn’t hold back in its criticisms of its hero while also providing complexity that makes us root for him but uneasily dread what might become. The narrative structure is easy to follow with Paul ingratiating himself with the native culture, rising to power and influence, and organizing a resistance against the well-funded imperial overlords of Arakis. This is the kind of sumptuous, big screen spectacle with intelligence that is so rare in the Hollywood system, and Villaneuve once again shows his ability to perform artful blockbusters that put him in a rarefied class with hew others. After the first Dune, I was hopeful but a little wary. After the second Dune, I feel like all of my concerns were wiped away.
Nate’s Grade: A-
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The Idea of You/ Turtles All the Way Down (2024)
The Idea of You is the kind of movie that Hollywood used to crank out, a romantic drama star vehicle based upon a popular novel and with a skilled director, and now it forgoes any theatrical run and ends up as another option on a streaming channel. The Idea of You follows a 40-year-old divorced single mom played by Anne Hathaway who also happens to run an L.A. art gallery and has a meet-cute with a handsome boy band member (Nicholas Galitzine, Purple Hearts) at the Coachella music festival (oh the magic lives of people never having to worry about bills in rom-coms). they hit it off, and the rest of the movie is whether or not they can make a romance work. There’s a 15-year age gap that she feels very self-conscious about as an older woman (“older” by Hollywood standards). She’s this formerly normal woman who wants to date one of the most famous music stars in the world who isn’t always available, but most of the problems and conflicts stem from the perceived issues of the age gap. It’s a charming romance that’s more dramatic than it is comedic, and Hathaway is quite good as our lead plucked from obscurity. Though the many scenes of our smitten boy band member making googly eyes at Hathaway as he reminds her how attractive she is, and as she bashfully demurs, are a little much (it’s Anne Hathaway, notorious horrible-looking human specimen, right?). As a core romance, the movie works well under the guidance of director and co-writer Michael Showalter (The Big Sick), and it’s more adult than I was expecting. It’s rated R for language and it’s also more sensual, but it’s also more adult as in looking at the ramifications of this relationship in a mature perspective, from the terrors of paparazzi imposition to her daughter being harassed at school. The portrayal is thus more engaging and engrossing and feels above the more flippant and flimsy romances that would settle for far less. Though be warned: there are several sequences of singing and serenading which might cause you to shrink awkwardly inward on your couch. Surprisingly thoughtful, and relatively romantic, The Idea of You is a charming reminder of the appeal of comforting tales of love blossoming in unexpected places and pretty people allowing themselves the choice to be happy.
Based on best-selling YA author John Green’s 2017 novel, Turtles All the Way Down is a very accessible and very affecting glimpse at living with mental illness, obsessive compulsive disorder, and intrusive thoughts. Aza (Isabela Merced) has an overwhelming inner monologue that sabotages her daily life in high school and carries her along anxious thought diversions, constantly relating to some illness growing inside her that she needs to cleanse. This is the crux of the story, along with her relationship with her super eager best friend. There’s a romantic side plot where she helps out a rich classmate whose billionaire dad has gone missing, which feels like a plot device to necessitate the two characters spending time together. The standout aspect of this adaptation by writer/director Hannah Marks (Don’t Make Me Go) is its unsparing and honest yet hopeful depiction of mental health and intrusive thoughts. Merced (Dora and the Lost City of Gold, Madame Web) is excellent and deeply empathetic as this woman held hostage by her wayward thoughts and impulses. It’s a performance that goes beyond easy depictions of aloof detachment or exaggerated histrionics, shedding any acting techniques that are too mannered or attention-seeking. Marks’ direction helps reflect Aza’s troubled mind with rapid insert edits and voice over to communicate the intrusive thoughts and maelstrom of spiraling negative emotions. If you’re a fan of Green’s popular novels, or YA-themed literature, or even just honest attempts to empathize with teens in turmoil, then Turtles All the Way Down is worth battling through any negative thoughts to finish and relish the journey.
Nate’s Grades:
The Idea of You: B
Turtles All the Way Down: B+
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Unfrosted (2024)
What to make of a movie like Netflix’s Unfrosted. It’s Jerry Seinfeld’s directorial debut, working off a screenplay he co-wrote, his first foray into film writing and acting since 2007’s Bee Movie. His eponymous sitcom “about nothing” was a 1990s mainstay and popularized an ironic meta form of comedy that still continues to dominate comedic tastes. Making a movie about the pseudo history of the invention of Pop Tarts, and the corporate rivalry between the major cereal brands, seems like a further exercise in that realm of humor, potentially satirizing a burgeoning sub-genre of late, the Biopic of Products (Air, Tetris, Flamin’ Hot, Blackberry). Except this supposed “biopic about nothing” is really a head-scratcher. Its humor feels pained and stale, the satire feels missing or glancing at best, and it seems like an expensive lark, wasting the nigh-infinite money of Netflix to purposely make a stupid comedy with all his friends.
Set in the mid 1960s, we follow two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Battle Creek, Michigan where we lay our scene. Kellogg’s has been the dominant cereal-brand for years but its chief rival, Post, is set to launch a new product that will revolutionize breakfast mornings. Bob (Seinfeld) is the head of development for Kellogg’s and reaches out to his old colleague, Donna (Melissa McCarthy), when it becomes evident that Post stole their unused research to develop a pastry treat designed to be cooked in one’s toaster. The warring CEOs, with Jim Gaffigan as Edsel Kellogg III and Amy Schumer as Marjorie Post, are desperate to one-up one another and be seen as more than an inheritor of their family’s wealth. It’s a race to see which company can get their treat to market first and capture the hearts, minds, and sweet teeth of America’s youth.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t laugh at points through Unfrosted, which operates like a spoof movie on a slower jokes-per-second pacing guide. There are zany sight gags amidst broadly drawn characters treating the silly straight, though occasionally you’ll have wisecrackers commenting on the inherent absurdity of moments, mostly confined to the stars making asides to the audience. Sometimes it’s lazy jokes that rely upon our foreknowledge, like when Bob coins a NASA beverage by saying it has a “real tang” (get it?). The movie frequently intensifies into goofy escalation when Kellogg’s impanels a team of mascots and inventors as a breakfast brain trust. Every one of these wacky characters is here to provide the exact same joke they will provide throughout the movie, and their inclusion is already suspect. Having the Schwinn bicycle guy (Jack McBrayer) comment on why he should be there is not enough. The hit-to-miss ratio will vary per everyone’s personal sense of humor, but overall I just felt mystified why this project would tempt Seinfeld from his comedy repose. What about this idea excited him? Was it just his lifelong love of cereal and Pop Tarts, a topic from his standup act decades ago? I ate a lot of cereal as a teenager too but I don’t want to make a movie about the Lucky Charms advertising campaign teaching children to beat and pillage the Irish (maybe Ken Loach could direct – to the three people on the Internet who appreciate this joke, I want you to know I appreciate you also).
It can be fun to simply watch dozens of famous people take their turns being silly in what is unquestionably a “dumb comedy.” When you have comedians of this quality in your movie, they’ll find ways to make even so-so jokes hit a little better, and that’s the case here. There’s an entertainment value in just wondering who will show up next, as many characters are only onscreen for a single scene or an abbreviated moment. Unfrosted becomes an example of Seinfeld’s industry power as he empties his Rolodex to fill even the tiniest of roles. Look, it’s James Marsden as Jack LaLanne. Look, it’s Bill Burr as JFK and Dean Norris as Kruschev (double Breaking Bad). Peter Dinklage as the head of the nefarious milkmen cartel? Why not? If you set your expectations low, maybe lower than what you were accounting for, there can be a mild amusement scene-to-scene just seeing who might show up next, almost like a modern-day version of those anarchic big ensemble comedies like It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World.
There is one segment that fell so flat for me that I was in utter amazement, and that was the unexpected January 6th insurrection parody. In a movie that has sustained a surreal and offbeat version of our universe, it evokes one of the most startling days of recent history. I think the humor is meant to derive from simply seeing a bunch of mascots in big colorful costumes as a mob running havoc, but there’s no jokes about like the challenges of a mascot costume in a fight, or say someone tipping over and being unable to get back up like a helpless turtle. There are jokes that can be had with this scenario, but instead Seinfeld is relying on the ironic juxtaposition of the ridiculous with the serious, and I don’t think it ever works as a joke. My sinking feeling began when Hugh Grant’s embittered mascot character wore a headdress resembling the QAnon shaman. It feels tacky and strange and the longer it persists the more I kept wondering what Seinfeld was doing with this. Why include this especially as the only form of relatively topical political humor, beyond, I guess, the depiction of business elites being complete morons? Why this? Again, it would be different if it was funny in execution, like the Saving Private Ryan D-Day parody from Sausage Party. This just isn’t funny, and its inclusion feels so odd compared to the stale nature of its other comedy.
As an admittedly silly enterprise, one that doesn’t even pretend to be accurate even as it flirts with the truth, Unfrosted is a successfully stupid comedy that feels a little too aimless, a little too edge-less and safe, and a little too dated and stale in its approach to comedy (lots of 1960s Boomer nostalgia ahoy). It’s hard to work up that much risible anger over a 90-minute movie that features a living ravioli creature. Clearly this movie wasn’t trying to be anything other than a gleefully stupid comedy, but I wanted more pep from its jokes and whimsy and general idiocy. I think the way to go may have been all the way in the other direction, treating the formation of a toaster pastry like international nuclear secrets and playing the corporate espionage completely straight while also making it patently ridiculous. Unfrosted did, however, make me want a Pop Tart that I ate afterwards, although it was my local grocery store’s generic brand, so I guess that doesn’t directly benefit Kellogg’s. This movie exists as a Seinfeld curiosity that ultimately left me hungry for more.
Nate’s Grade: C
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The Fall Guy (2024)
The Fall Guy, loosely based upon the 1980s TV series starring Lee Majors, is not the best action movie, nor the best dedication to the efforts of Hollywood stunt performers, but walking away, I cannot help but think it’s perhaps the most summer blockbuster-y movie I’ve ever seen, a celebration of the magic of movies, the escapism of blockbusters, and the unsung heroes of the stunt community that deserve recognition and maybe even their own Oscar category. This is the kind of movie that reawakens feelings of cinematic elation, of what blockbuster cinema can accomplish with the right creatives in alignment, leaving a smile plastered across your face and a spring in your step leaving the theater. The Fall Guy is about our love of big stars, big explosions, big feelings, and the people responsible for making those big dreams a reality.
Colt Seavers (Ryan Gosling) is a professional movie stuntman who feels invincible until one stunt goes wrong, causing him to break his back. After a year of recovery, he’s parking cars when he gets a call that his ex-girlfriend Jody (Emily Blunt) is directing her first movie, a major sci-fi blockbuster called Metalstorm (which actually exists, it’s a 1983 movie directed by Charles Band and was the shares the same bombastic tagline: “It’s High Noon at the end of the universe”). They need a replacement stuntman and perhaps he can reconnect with her and start over. Also, Colt becomes entangled in searching for the missing star of the movie, Tom Ryder (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), a famous action star that Colt worked closely with, performing his stunts. Colt has to try and find this missing moron while keeping to the movie schedule, all the while hoping to win back Jody and make sure her movie finishes its costly production with its leading man.
First of all, this is the Ryan Gosling show. If you’re a fan of the actor, especially his cavalier charisma that almost comes across as so cocksure to be enviably casual, then The Fall Guy is going to be a dream come true. It takes the Gosling of such comically committed, goofy, un-self-conscious performances from Barbie to The Nice Guys, and it builds a big Hollywood action movie around that persona, vaulting Gosling into his Big Movie Star phase with aplomb. He’s so effortlessly engaging as our hero, even when he’s being battered and bruised and exploded all over the screen. Colt is also immediately appealing as a capable man beset by challenges rediscovering his mojo. He’s been humbled by life and fights for his dignity while at the same time fighting to win back his girl, and it all plays on a breezy, light-hearted comedy wavelength that accepts the inherent and lasting appeal of movie stars being allowed to be movie stars. There might not be much to the characters of Colt and in particular Jody, but the movie just shimmers on their winning chemistry. You’ll yearn for them to be together again with quite little prompting. It’s a movie whose romantic force is front and center. It’s so unabashedly sincere too. When Colt is jamming to Taylor Swift’s “All Too Well,” it’s not an easy point of mockery, though some may take it as such seeing our strong hero in his feelings, but a point of reliability. It’s a movie unafraid of romance, of wearing its heart on its sleeve, and being a little square.
It’s also clearly a celebration of the unheralded stunt performers of Hollywood history filling in for the more dangerous derring-do of our big screen heroes and villains. Director David Leitch (Atomic Blonde, Bullet Train) came from the stunt world and stages his action set pieces to rely heavily upon real physical stunt work, practical effects, and giving extra time for the audience to understand various dangers and know-how, to learn about this often overlooked industry of professionals risking life and limb, and sometimes giving their own, to create the illusions. The action is varied and filmed in pleasing compositions to highlight the readability of the action. It’s big and propulsive and fun. That’s the key to all of Leitch’s moves here, making the fun infectious, extending the action into unexpected yet delightful directions for more payoffs. The climax involves branching out to an armada of movie stunt performers and technicians, and it feels like a communal effort to win the day, making the ending feel celebratory and satisfying.
This goes along with the behind-the-scenes camaraderie of the found families of filmmaking, celebrating all the many collaborators that go into building these large-scale entertainment ventures. When they’re going through the steps of how to capture a big explosion or stunt, it’s educating the audience along to better anticipate and appreciate. The Fall Guy is clear about its sincere homages, recreating moods and style from action veterans like Michael Mann, James Cameron, and Michael Bay. It’s a movie celebrating movies, and if you’re a fan of the process like me, then you’ll easily join in on the revelry. I’m sure there are famous stunt performers littered throughout, getting Leitch’s favorite colleagues the platform they deserve. The movie’s insider satire is pretty glancing, without anything too vicious or specific about Hollywood stars, especially epitomized by Taylor-Johnson’s send-up of self-absorbed actors. The concept of Metalstorm, a sci-fi Western with elements of Dune and Mad Max, is a project where the silly mash-up of “cool” elements is the unspoken punchline, the sheer stupidity of this concept, magnified by Tom Ryder channeling his most laconic Matthew McConaughey impression.
There’s a special appeal about summer blockbuster movies and The Fall Guy understands that lasting appeal. It delivers a movie whose mission is to remind us why we love these kinds of movies, big and stylish and thrilling and romantic and enchantingly entertaining. It’s a movie that’s only interested in being two hours of excellent escapism, not setting up a cinematic universe or the next sequel leading to the next sequel and spin-off. It’s only concerned with telling its lone story, which is booed by the magnetic power of its leads and their buzzy chemistry together. Gosling is chiefly in the zone and supremely charming and funny. The Fall Guy is a treat for fans of action and the professionals that make all the action so incredible.
As a personal side note, my lovely wife is almost five months pregnant and we were informed that our little baby boy would develop his sense of hearing around this time, and during the many action scenes roaring in the surround sound theater, the kiddo was moving around in utero. Either this kid was worried about the sudden shifts in volume and noise, or he was enjoying the experience and swimming along. Either way, I’ll consider this baby’s first movie, so thank you The Fall Guy for making this a personal landmark for me and my growing family.
Nate’s Grade: A-
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