The Electric State (2025)
The fire hose that has been the Netflix cash flow may be reigning in, but that didn’t stop the streaming giant from making another attempt at a huge blockbuster to rival those Hollywood designs for the big screen. The Electric State is a $320-million sci-fi adventure spectacle from the Russo brothers, Anthony and Joe, the team that gave us the highs of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) later Avengers movies, and the lows of, well, everything after their MCU movies. Netflix is actively trying to compete with the theatrical experience brought to you at home, so they take these big expensive swings on large-scale, quippy, action vehicles like Red Notice and 6 Underground every so often to mixed results. Netflix has become the go-to place for a kind of movie that has altogether vanished in the studio sphere, the mid-tier movie for adults. We need those stories. What Netflix hasn’t done as effectively is compete with the big studios for comparable expensive action spectacle. The Electric State is further proof.
In an alternate America, robots were created and given menial tasks by mankind. Naturally, they grew tired of this and attempted a revolution for their equal rights. Mankind was on the brink when an unlikely savior emerged. Tech CEO Ethan Skate (Stanley Tucci) created an army of humanoid drones controlled via VR helmets. This disposable army of avatars was able to beat back the robots and forced their leader, literally an animatronic Mr. Peanut (voiced by Woody Harrelson), to sign a “peace treaty.” The results exiled the robots into a walled off wasteland in the American southwest, and humanity went on its merry way, now with VR-controlled avatars that allowed every American the luxury of staying on their duff. Michelle (Millie Bobby Brown, contractually obligated to be in every Netflix original not starring Joey King) is an orphan WITH AN ATTITUDE. One day she’s greeted by a pint-sized robot looking like the Cosmo cartoon character her younger brother was obsessed with. The little robot says he is her brother and Michelle realizes that maybe she has some family left after all. She and the Cosmo bot are on the run from scavengers and bounty hunters trying to stop their fateful face-to-face reunion.
The Electric State is lacking such vital creative sparks to feel anything more than the ramshackle sum of its derivative sci-fi parts. It began as a melancholy mixed media book from the same Swedish author behind Tales From the Loop and it’s become a giant lumbering mess of mediocre and familiar elements. It kind of feels like the newer Ready Player One-era Steven Spielberg trying to emulate early E.T.-era Spielberg, but then that would give us an artist on the level of Spielberg, and that’s not what we have here. It’s standard adventure fare with a brother and sister crossing the country to save the day and thwart a big evil corporation along with scrappy, rakish rogues joining them along the way for fun and life lessons. Chris Pratt’s character is so transparently a Han Solo clone but he’s an empty vest with eye-rolling quips. This is an alternate history story with a literal robot uprising but it devotes so little interest in its own world building and history. The movie essentially castigates all the robots to a forbidden zone that naturally will be visited by our plucky heroes. The majority of the movie is watching these robotic avatars (reminded me of the Geth from Mass Effect) for people who can’t be bothered to leave their VR helmets. If this new world has devolved human interaction into a series of screens (commentary!) then maybe let’s explore that with meaning. If robots are going to be an exploited labor class (commentary!) then maybe let’s explore that too. If this is a future world where robots have been exiled and feared as an Other (commentary!) then let’s explore that too. There’s one moment where Evil Steve Jobs enjoys a VR recreation of his deceased mother, except he admits that this version is the version he wishes he had, and the real figure was far less doting and far more abusive. That’s an interesting concept, that VR offers users the ability to live in a reality of their own desires. But this isn’t a movie that wants to take time to explore interesting and relevant themes, because that would get in the way of action set pieces and goofy robot action. Seriously, there’s one fight where a U.S. postal service robot is literally hurling undelivered mail at a killer robot avatar and succeeds. Because this isn’t a deep movie, we have essentially good robots and bad robots, and if you’re shocked that the robots may have been misunderstood, well congratulations on seeing your first movie. I assure you, they mostly get better from here if you give them a chance.
The inclusion of robots is so underutilized, tapped for ready sidekicks and villains, that you could have replaced them with aliens or clones or any other disposable science fiction element. In this parallel world, Walt Disney created the robots for Disney World, so wouldn’t it be worthy of exploring that history and the sense of Victor Frankenstein-style paternal obligation? Wouldn’t the robots retreat to their ancestral home of Disney World? Or perhaps they view this as the birth of their enslavement? What about different generations of robots, especially older models being replaced with newer ones, thus creating class warfare within an exploited secondary class? What about looking at robots having to subsist off junk to continue with their meager existences? What about robots still living in forbidden zones that are hunted by the government and its armada of robot drones? There are so many possible ideas and stories and characters that are open through the inclusion of robots, but the movie doesn’t have the interest or drive to make them matter. As a result, it’s mostly a swift-moving travelogue with some ugly-looking or cranky guests riding shotgun. Occasionally The Electric State will remember, oh yeah, robots can do stuff people cannot, like having one of them hack into a server or having a smaller robot inside like a high-tech Russian nesting doll.
I think it was a combination of the uninvolved storytelling as well as the character design that left my emotional attachment to be null and void. I hated the Cosmo character design. He’s this big spherical head with little skinny limbs, but the head might as well be an un-moving mask. A giant toothy smile is drawn on the front and it’s so inexpressive. Also, the fact that the kid has to exclusively rely upon only using sound bytes from this canceled cartoon series makes for a quickly annoying little brother. I didn’t care about this kid, human or robot, and I didn’t care if Michelle ever reunited with her brother. Then the fact that the movie’s climax involves such a serious and emotional choice seems absurd considering what has been underdeveloped up until this abrupt shift in intended emotional stakes. It’s such an out-of-left field escalation that I almost laughed out loud at what the movie was asking me to feel, as well as what it was asking its protagonist to decide. Likewise, the betterment of robot-kind is given such little recognition, culminating in a showdown between the avatar of good robots and evil robots essentially going to revise a treaty that we don’t know much about. For a movie about how easy it can be to distance ourselves via technology, it sure fails to reasonably make the viewer care about robot equality.
Then there’s the fact that this whole enterprise cost an astounding $320 million for Netflix to platform it as its next hit movie to doze off to while in the middle of doing laundry. The Russo brothers have retreated back to Marvel to handle the next two Avengers movies, and it seems like at a time where both parties have missed and could use one another. Outside of Marvel, the Russos have delivered one super expensive action movie (The Grey Man), a super expensive spy action series (The Citadel), and one lackluster biopic that used every Scorsese stylistic trick they’ve been saving up (Cherry). With The Electric State, we have the brothers’ more familiar mixture of large-scale action and special effects in a mass appeal studio blockbuster space. However, every movie outside of Marvel has made me question their capabilities of handling these big movies. I know the Russos can be fantastic with comedy, as some of their TV episodes are the best of recent memory, and their stewardship of the big MCU movies in the wake of Joss Whedon’s departure was undeniably successful. So why isn’t The Electric State successful? It comes down to the screenplay which is so disinterested in its own ideas, world, and characters, held together by the familiarity of other adventure blockbuster staples like loose chewing gum. It’s a movie replete with famous faces and big effects but feels so devoid of life and creativity, a blockbuster automaton intended to hold the attention but rarely engage one’s imagination and emotions.
Nate’s Grade: C
Share this:
Mickey 17 (2025)
Bong Joon Ho is one of those filmmakers that has earned the right to make any movie he wants. Hollywood might not feel the same, but the filmmaker behind Snowpiercer, The Host, and the triumphant Oscar-winning Parasite, the first time an international movie won Best Picture, is an amazingly versatile storyteller who seamlessly blends different genres and tones into unique and mesmerizing film experiences. If he’s interested in telling a story, then that guarantees I’m interested in watching it. This is especially true if he steps into the realm of science fiction. After the worldwide success of Parasite, Bong Joon Ho was given $100 million dollars and final cut from a big studio to make whatever he wanted, and he chose an adaptation of Edward Ashton’s novel, Mickey 7, telling the story of the world’s most/least fortunate expendable in a fledgling space colony. I read the book last year and it was quite good, so my anticipation was even higher for the feature film Mickey 17, especially after Warner Brothers delayed the movie an entire year. Now, after the long wait, we can all finally enjoy Bong Joon Ho with peak artistic freedom, a position that will likely not be repeated. It’s a grand movie with big ideas, vision, satire, and also enough underutilized ideas and distracting characters and performances to quibble over “what if’s.”
In the distant future, Earth is overrun in population and low on natural resources, so the next space race is to find habitable colony worlds. Mickey (Robert Pattinson) gets in over his head to shady loan sharks and looks for any possible way off of the planet. The only position he can sign up for is that of an expendable, a person who can be cloned from a biological printing machine. These expendables are put in dangerous jobs and different science tests because, well, if they die, you can start over. It’s a terrible job, one that involves dying repeatedly, and Mickey agrees to be the human crash test dummy. He’s on a multiyear colony ship traveling across space to find a habitable world. The planet they land on is bitterly cold, impossible to farm, and crawling with its own crawly wildlife. Mickey 17 is left for dead after falling down a chasm but he survives, trudges back home, only to discover another Mickey in his bed. They’ve assumed Mickey 17 died and already printed out his replacement. There’s a rule about there not being multiples and, if discovered, both expendables would be killed. They have to hide their secret and work together while still vying for dominance over one another and staying out of the crosshairs of buffoonish yet powerful political leaders Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo) and his wife, Yifa (Toni Collette).
Mickey 17 is a smart, weird, and consistently fun and thoughtful movie. It doesn’t waste any time getting started, literally with Mickey 17 on the cusp of dying with his looming interaction with the aliens. Bong Joon Ho adapted the screenplay and has a nimble way of dealing with the conflicts and setting. I appreciated that he doesn’t prolong different storylines beyond their point of interest. He’s always got another development or joke or set piece to provide. There’s a fun sense of discovery with the movie as well as satisfaction to watch how he slides all the pieces into place. I appreciated how he imbues character notes so easily with supporting characters, giving this universe a larger personality that resonates. I love the setting and the reality it presents of a long-voyage space colony fighting for resources and struggling to keep the lights on. The sets and photography are gorgeous to behold but also filled with details to help make the world feel lived-in. I loved that even in the far-flung future, technology can still work in fits and starts, like watching Mickey slide out of the printer conveyor belt only to lurch backwards before going forward again, like the printers of the 1980s. I love the alien creature design that resembles an armadillo crossed with the subterranean worms from Tremors. I loved how they were able to defend their queen/mamma in Act Three. I love the goofy comic flourishes too, like the fact that there’s a guy just walking around in like a pigeon mascot costume that is never really explained. This is also the same movie where characters constantly ask Mickey what it’s like to die and you realize that every version of Mickey doesn’t know because he’s never experienced it personally, only born from the aftermath. The way this movie is capable of marrying big ideas with silly visual jokes and slapstick and explosions is impressive and a reminder that certain artists will prosper on big stages when given ultimate freedom. Come for the star power and slapstick, stay for the existential dread.
Pattinson presents another wildly weird performance that reminds me how exciting he is as an actor. He’s got these movie star good looks but he really wants to play all the weirdos he can with the most eclectic filmmakers, and I love it. His Mickey 17 and Mickey 18 may be constructed from the same DNA but they come across as vastly different iterations of our hero. This provides a more assertive version of Mickey to try and shape up our more passive Mickey into standing up for himself, taking chances, and taking charge when the situation calls for it. He’s like a mentor. Mickey 18 isn’t featured that often in the story, and truthfully he wasn’t featured that often in the book as well. It’s mostly the story of the hapless and whiny-voiced Mickey 17 and his journey of self. It’s a familiar yet enticing formula to watch a character gain agency and go from pushover to defender of the vulnerable. Pattinson finds little sparks to grab onto with the character, little pieces of weirdness that really help crystalize our understanding of Mickey. Of course the human lab rat would have the fight bred out of him through resignation, and it’s still gratifying to see him stay who he is while also rising to the challenge of the moment. In interviews, Pattinson has said that he modeled his two Mickey performances after the cartoon characters Ren and Stimpy. This actor is perfect for the wacky, tone-blending worlds of Bong Joon Ho. He’s game for everything.
It’s not hard to see the entire enterprise as a crafty critique of capitalism, not exactly a new point in the Bong Joon Ho movie universe. Mickey’s value to his mission is the literal exploitation of his body. He’s callously tested upon for vaccines and weapons and whatever the scientists may cook up. Because they know they can download another Mickey, it changes how they view the current iteration: he’s not a person, he’s only whatever they want him to be at whatever moment. His value is what he can offer to them as a test subject, as a pile of flesh to be experimented upon. Therefore, the casual cruelty in the name of science and “progress” is yet another example of how we can easily dehumanize our fellow man in a system that profits from their labor and exploitation. Bong Joon Ho also provides a more compassionate view of the downtrodden Other, in particular the indigenous alien species on the colony world (to be fair, as is pointed out by another character, the humans are the actual aliens in this scenario). The creatures are viewed as unworthy of co-existence, in the way of man’s intergalactic manifest destiny, and so they must be wiped out for greater conquest. It’s not a huge surprise that the aliens might not be the stupid and scary creatures that they’ve been projected to be, and this is revealed very early when a collective herd saves the wounded Mickey 17. He views this as an insult, that he’s not even seen as worth eating, but the reading should be obvious to everyone in the audience. Thus we spend the rest of the movie for the other characters to realize the reality of these strange creatures. I did appreciate that the end of the movie coincides with a battle for primacy versus cooperation and compassion, which centers some of the major themes and ties the movie’s character arcs and significant messages together. Plus there’s also explosions.
And yet, there are ideas that could have been explored for even more depth and contemplation. There’s a very intriguing question concerning the different personalities of Mickey 17 and Mickey 18, which begs the follow-up question whether or not they are indeed one hundred percent replicas. Their personalities are such wild swings away from one another, with one being much more the laconic pushover and the other being the aggressive and assertive ideal Mickey. The next Mickey is built upon the recorded memories of the previous memories, so in theory there wouldn’t be many significant differences. However, the big personality differences are not explored or even questioned. This is a missed opportunity that could have gotten to something deeper philosophically and with the revelations of its world-building tech. Perhaps the cloning device doesn’t actually work as advertised and each new Mickey is a close proximity but there are minute yet distinct differences, meaning each new Mickey is his own person deserving of identity. This could then also further connect with the religious objection to cloning that one body should only have one soul. This could lead to Mickey 17, and even 18, debating whether or not they have souls of their own and their conception of life and sacrifice, being more than just the living equivalent of a punching bag. It could also bring into a spiritual element about possibly having a celestial reward after their extra-solar toils, at least the hopeful belief. There were real thematic qualities to explore and provide meaningful texture to the whole movie, and yet they’re disappointingly ignored.
The Trump buffoonery avatar stuff is a little harder to take in early 2025 with the fallout of a second Trump presidency still having its far-reaching, chaotic, despotic consequences. The character and his wife are invented entirely for the movie by Bong Joon Ho, and clearly he had some things he wanted to say about the former and now-current president (there are even followers wearing those signature red caps). I just don’t know if there’s anything of real substance to this portrayal. He’s a cartoonish idiot villain overcome with vanity, ego, overconfidence, and craven manipulation, but there’s not much that is gained from his multiple appearances. Ruffalo is doing fine work jutting out his jaw and making sure to show those upper teeth as often as possible. It’s just that the character is an exaggerated all-purpose blowhard villain, and it makes for a character you desperately want to see brought lower, to be exposed as a fraud, to get their cosmic comeuppance. The problem is that the appearances are all hammering away at the exact same point that I began to tune Marshall out. In our current political landscape, with the intended target taking up every iota of oxygen in the public sphere, it just becomes another reflection point of the exhaustion felt from the Trump administration. One character verbally lambastes the political bully as a world-class idiot and says, “That’s why you lost the elections.” Plural. It’s then I recalled Mickey 17 was delayed a year, and this would have played differently for me in early 2024 than 2025.
There’s also a very late sequence I would like to analyze why it doesn’t quite work as conceived, but this will enter into some spoilers, so skip to the next question if you’d like to remain pure, dear reader. During the epilogue or coda, Mickey is seemingly remembering something from his past until it’s revealed to be a nightmare and thus having little consequence beyond insight into Mickey’s subconscious anxiety. In this nightmare, Mickey stumbles upon Yifa in the midst of her printing out a new version of her husband through the cloning machine. We’d been previously told that after her husband’s death that Yifa had been locked away and supposedly slit her own wrists. This raises the question whether the Yifa that we see at the machine is her or a clone, and that tantalizing possibility unlocks a new world of story for the movie that seems completely natural and essential. It’s the kind of twist hiding in plain sight that could have worked, that there were two Yifas at the same time there had been two Mickeys or long predating. This is because once you start thinking of this possibility it’s too obvious that it would happen. Of course the rich and famous blowhards who regard themselves as more important than others would see the expendable process as a means of living forever, or at least having a back-up plan. Of course the Marshalls would be hypocrites about their moral righteousness against cloning being an affront to God and creation. Of course these people would use whatever means they could to extend their power and their lives. Just like that, the very end of the movie has an extra layer to it that also provides more purpose for Yifa as a character. Then, just like that, it’s revealed as a nightmare, and all that intriguing possibility is wiped out, and I was left wondering why even produce this moment after the duplicating machine has been destroyed?
Mickey 17 is an engaging, funny, enraging, and silly example of what science fiction can do. It can explore existential and essential questions about what it means to be human while also employing cartoonish slapstick, as well as cartoonish political satire. Not everything comes together smoothly; it’s a true jumble of tones and ideas, a Bong Joon Ho staple, but he’s typically so skilled at hiding the transitions and seams so you don’t even notice the genre movement until it’s already happened. There are intriguing directions and ideas I wish the movie had explored more, and the climax is a little conveniently tidy but suitably fitting as an invention for a showdown. As a reader of the novel, I can say that it’s an entertaining and fitting adaptation but also one that works on its own while I can still encourage people to read the novel. Mickey 17 is ambitious and messy and also very human, finding grace inside the darkness and absurdity. It’s not perfect but it is worth celebrating, just like each of the put-upon Mickeys.
Nate’s Grade: B+
Share this:
A Complete Unknown (2024)
I’m not really a Bob Dylan fan. While I can appreciate several of his songs, it’s his voice that has always put me off. An entire movie about the mystique of Dylan and his rise through the 1960s folk scene was never going to be too appealing for me. So keep all of that in mind as I tell you that A Complete Unknown is a thoroughly fine movie with the not-so grand insight that this famous troubadour might just be a talented prick. The end. Director/co-writer James Mangold returns to the musical biopic sub-genre almost twenty years after his Walk the Line (a non-Joaquin Phoenix Johnny Cash has a cameo in this movie too, securing the Boomer Music Cinematic Universe). It all feels very stately and staid and reverent and, especially during its climax, hopelessly quaint. The conclusion is over whether or not Dylan will play music at the Newport Folk Festival that the fuddy-duddy programmers demand. Will he go electric? Will he play traditional folk? Will you care? I suppose it’s about people trying to control and define this idiosyncratic artist who wants to be himself, whatever that may be, whatever feathers may be ruffled by the traditionalist gatekeepers of the folk music scene. This celebration of artistic integrity and creative revolution would mean a little more if I got a better understanding of Dylan as a person. Blessed with audience foreknowledge, we already know he’s going to be successful and that his creative impulses will be rewarded. Timothee Chalamet does a fine Dylan impression and recreates the famous songs with an impeccable nasally impersonation. For my money, I’d rather this have been a Pete Seger (Edward Norton) movie about his passing of the torch from one generation of folk artists to another and recognizing that the culture and peace movement were moving beyond him. Regardless, if you’re a Bob Dylan fan, there’s plenty to like, especially many extended jam sessions. If you’re looking for more than a handsomely recreated Best Of album, you might need to read a book instead.
Nate’s Grade: C+
Share this:
Y2K (2024)
The premise for Y2K is ripe for fun. It’s a nostalgic retelling of that turn-of-the-millenium anxiety over computers getting confused, and the movie says what if technology had turned on humans at the stroke of midnight that fateful New Year? Add the lo-fi chintzy, quirky style of co-writer/director Kyle Mooney (Brigsby Bear) and it’s a setup for some strange and amusing techno-horror. It’s structured like a teen party movie with our group of high schoolers (Jaeden Martell, Julien Dennison, Rachel Zegler) trying to step out of their comfort zones and live their best lives… around machines trying to eviscerate them. The tonally messy movie lacks the heart and specific world-building weirdness of Brigsby Bear, instead relying upon the genre cliches of the high school movie, including the unrequited nerd crush and the pretty popular girl who’s more than what she seems. While watching Y2K, I kept getting the nagging feeling that this movie should be more: more funny, more imaginative, more weird. It’s quite uneven and veers wildly from set piece to set piece for fleeting entertainment. I chuckled occasionally but that was it. I enjoyed the villainous robot assembling itself with assorted junk available, and it’s hard not to see this as a general statement about the movie as a whole. It’s a bit lumbering, a bit underdeveloped, a bit formless, blindly swiping nostalgia and junk to build some form of an identity that never materializes beyond its parts. Y2K won’t make me bail on Mooney as a filmmaker but it’s a party worth missing.
Nate’s Grade: C
Share this:
The Gorge (2025)
While watching the action-thriller The Gorge, I kept thinking, “Wow, I’m surprised this didn’t get a theatrical release at all.” The Apple Plus original is the kind of movie you’d want to watch on the big screen, with large-scale action, atmospheric imagery, and a creepy sound design meant to elicit shudders. It has a dynamite premise that grabbed me right away: two elite snipers from the East and West, Levi (Miles Teller) and Drasa (Anya-Taylor Joy), are tasked with manning watchtowers overlooking a cavernous and mysterious gorge. They have heavy-duty Gatling guns to make sure whatever is in the gorge stays in the gorge. It’s a year-long tour of duty and both snipers are forbidden to communicate with one another. Naturally, out of boredom and necessity, they break the no-contact rule, first through white board messages, then through shared experiences and competitions, and finally coming face-to-face. For the first 45 minutes or so, The Gorge is actually a pretty lean and effective long distance romance of sorts. There’s ingenuity in the process of getting to know someone from across a large hole in the ground, and both actors have solid chemistry that will help make you silently yearn for a little global collaboration. The movie also has an intriguing scenario with tantalizing details that point to its secret history, until everything is literally spelled out in Act Three. The monsters, who look like a combination of Groot and zombies, are an unsettling character design, though I wanted more variety in their appearance. When the characters finally delve into the gorge for the majority of our climax, we got some new and nasty creepy crawlies, like a tree with rib bones like insect mandibles that ensnare like a Venus flytrap. Alas, I found the stuff inside the gorge to be fun and creepy with a great atmosphere to play upon what we can and cannot see, but it was the stuff above and outside the gorge that made the movie for me. That’s The Gorge for ya: come for spooky monsters, stay for the surprisingly involving romance between monster killers.
Nate’s Grade: B
Share this:
Moana 2 (2024)
It’s hard not to see the DNA of its original incarnations as a TV series for Disney Plus, as well as the awkward adjustments to slap this together into a feature film. Unless you’re a super fan of the original Moana who needs any additional content, you’ll likely have a less than impressive response to Moana 2. It feels quite episodic from villains and storylines popping up for small increments of time only to go away and be replaced by a new storyline, to a new batch of characters meant to hold our attention while other main characters, in particular Maui (Dwayne Johnson), sit out for long stretches. The animation is a notable step down as well, and while it’s still pleasing to watch and far from bad, it’s lacking the detail and refinement of the feature team, especially with lighting, as everything in this world lacks shadows with such high key lighting washing everything out. Without Lin-Manuel Miranda returning, it’s obvious the songs will not be nearly as catchy and enchanting, and the tunes for Moana 2 are pretty instantly forgettable. I’m struggling to rethink any melody right now as I write this. It’s hard not to feel like everything is so slight, from the storytelling to the visuals to the songs to the inclusion of the beloved characters from the original. I loved Moana and consider it the best of modern-day Disney, and I’m clearly not alone from the box-office dominance that the sequel was able to achieve. I actually think I would have preferred future Moana adventures as a TV series because the mythology and world has more to explore. But that version of new Moana has been transformed, Frankenstein-style, into a releasable feature film, one that suffers in the transformation into something it’s not suited for. Disney made a billion dollars from this gamut, but the rest of us are left with a Moana 2 that had much further to go.
Nate’s Grade: C
Share this:
Saturday Night (2024)/ September 5 (2024)
Recently two ensemble dramas were thought to have awards potential that never materialized, and I think I might know at least one reason why: they are both undone by decisions of scope to focus on either a single day or a 90-minute period to encapsulate their drama.
With Saturday Night, we follow show creator Loren Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle) the night before the premiere episode of the iconic sketch TV series, Saturday Night Live. The story is told in relative real time covering the last 90 minutes before its initial 11:30 PM EST debut in 1975. We watch Michaels try and deal with squabbling cast members, striking union members, failing technology, his ex-wife (Rachel Sennot) who also happens to be a primary producer of the show, muppets, and studio bosses that are doubtful whether this project will ever make it to air. I understand in essence why the real-time setting is here to provide more pressure and urgency as Michaels is literally running out of time. The problem is that we know the show will be a success, so inventing doubtful older TV execs to add extra antagonists feels like maybe the framing by itself was lacking. Think about Air but you added a fictional exec whose only purpose was to say, “I don’t think this Michael Jordan guy will ever succeed.” There are interesting conflicts and subplots, especially with the different groups that Michaels has to manage, but when it’s all stuffed in such a tight time frame, rather than making the movie feel more chaotic and anxious, it makes those problems and subplots feel underdeveloped or arbitrary. I would relish a behind-the-scenes movie about SNL history but the best version of that would be season 11, the “lost season,” when Michaels came back to save the show and there were legitimate discussions over whether to cancel the show. Admittedly, we would already know the show survives, but does the public know what happened to people like Terry Sweeney and Danitra Vance? Does the public know what kind of sacrifices Michaels had to make? That’s the SNL movie we deserve. Alas, Saturday Night is an amiable movie with fun actors playing famous faces, but even the cast conflicts have to be consolidated to the confined time frame. This is a clear-cut example where the setting sabotages much of what this SNL movie could have offered for its fans.
With September 5, we remain almost entirely in the control room of ABC Sports as they cover the fateful 1972 Munich Olympics after the Israeli athletes are taken hostage by terrorists. It’s a subject covered in plenty of other movies, including Steven Spielberg’s Munich and the 1999 Oscar-winning documentary One Day in September, but now we’re watching it from the perspective of the journalists thrust into the spotlight to try and cover an important and tragic incident as it plays out by the hour. It’s an interesting perspective and gives voice to several thorny ethical issues, like when the news team is live broadcasting an oncoming police assault, which the terrorists can watch and prepare for as well. The movie is filmed in a suitable docu-drama style and the pacing is as swift as the editing, and that’s ultimately what holds me back from celebrating the movie more. It’s an interesting anecdote about media history, but September 5 fails to feel like a truly insightful addition to the history and understanding of this tragedy. It’s so focused on the people in the studio and restrained to this one day that it doesn’t allow for us to really dwell or develop in the consequences of this day as well as the consequences of their choices on this fateful day. The movie feels like a dramatization of a select batch of interviews from a larger, more informative documentary on the same subject. It’s well-acted and generally well-written, though I challenge people to recall any significant detail of characters besides things like “German translator” and “Jewish guy.” It’s a worthy story but one that made me wish I could get a fuller picture of its impact and meaning. Instead, we get a procedural about a ragtag group of sports journalists thrust into a global political spotlight. There’s just larger things at stake, including the inherent drama of the lives at risk, than if they’ll get the shot.
Nate’s Grades:
Saturday Night: C+
September 5: B
Share this:
The Crow (2024)
It’s been over twenty years since there’s been a movie based upon James O’Barr’s iconic graphic novel The Crow, and it’s been almost thirty years since there was a theatrically released movie. It’s a franchise that seems easy enough to make into a movie: a victim of violence comes back from the dead with some supernatural guidance to seek vengeance on those who killed them. Slather it in a moody atmosphere and some nice character beats, and you have yourself a born winner, like the 1994 movie that became a staple for a generation of disaffected teenagers. So why has it been so hard to bring this franchise back to life? There have been many starts and stops, with different directors and actors becoming attached and leaving over time, including Bradley Cooper, Luke Evans, Jason Momoah, and Alexander Skarsgard. Apparently, the producers finally found a story they felt could support a Crow reboot, or so they hoped. It crashed pretty hard at the box-office upon release. Despite its omnipresent placement on many worst of 2024 lists, I didn’t hate The Crow 2024. It has some serious problems but it also has some intriguing ideas that could have worked in a better version. It’s far less egregious than the 2005 Wicked Prayer where a literal plot point is stopping a climactic consummation between a villainous Tara Reid and David Boreanaz. It couldn’t be that bad, could it? It’s not, but it needed a lot of work.
Eric Draven (Bill Skarsgard) meets the love of his life, Shelly (FKA Twigs), where one meets all the hot and available singles these days – in drug rehab. She’s on the run from a criminal enterprise after she kept an incriminating video, so once she and Eric escape from their rehab center and try and make a go at a new life on the outside, the goons find them and kill them both. Except Eric’s spirit is sent to a purgatory netherworld and tge mysterious man Kronos offers to send him back to get vengeance. It seems this crime syndicate is led by Vincent Roeng (Danny Huston), who happens to be perpetuating his lifespan by offering fresh innocent souls to Hell. With the supernatural power of a guardian crow providing him invulnerability, Eric seeks to stop these bad people from dooming any other souls and maybe he can save Shelly’s soul in the process.
Let’s tackle some of the more noteworthy mistakes of the reboot before I begin providing the compliments and where I think the movie actually has some worthy ideas. The biggest creative mistake is delaying the tragically fateful murder that spurs the entire movie until 45 minutes in. For contrast, the original movie has its Eric and Shelly getting killed through an opening montage. It doesn’t waste any time getting to the real premise of the material, the supernatural revenge tale. If you’re going to delay that key turn by so long, then that relationship better pop off the screen, or the chemistry has to be amazing, or the characters are so in depth and charming that with the considerably increased time we will feel a deep pain at the loss. If you’re putting more weight on the love story and their connection then you have to back it up, and this movie cannot. Therefore, it’s drawing out its necessary supernatural transformation to a point that there is only a measly hour left for all that superhuman stalking and avenging.
In the original, Eric (Brandon Lee) tracked down the gang responsible for his and his wife’s murder and each member got their own section where they established their character. Each section allowed us to learn more about the powers Eric now had at his disposal as well as how they might change him. The structure allows the bad guys to learn about their predicament and plan a defense. It allows the exciting elements from the premise to develop and adapt. With The Crow 2024, there’s one initial attack where Eric discovers he can bounce back from bullets, then there’s one ambush on a car carrying our bad guys, and finally there’s an extended assault at an opera that gruesomely kills every disposable henchman money can buy. That’s it. Eric isn’t picking them off one-by-one or even working up the food chain to the really bad guys. The bad guys don’t even seem that threatened, as Vincent is still going about his routines, albeit with more armored guards. It makes the whole Crow parts of The Crow feel small and underdeveloped. This is the first Crow movie where the titular bird, the symbolic partner from the underworld, doesn’t even connect in any meaningful way. It’s just a background “caw.”
The entire inclusion of a villain who traffics innocent souls begs for further examination and probably a more formidable opponent. Vincent confesses he’s hundreds of years old and his agreement is with the Devil himself, so you would think this man would have learned some tricks in the ensuing hundreds of years. He has some vague super power where he can whisper suggestions into the ears of his victims and they’ll do what he commands, but does he use this power when he’s battling Eric or trying to flee from Eric? No. The demonstration of this super power basically resorts to being a more personal form of torture. Vincent doesn’t even seem worried about an undead warrior coming for him. Maybe that’s centuries of accrued over confidence, but if that’s the case, then make us love to hate this arrogant bastard. Also, if he’s had a successful transactional arrangement with the Devil for literal centuries, shouldn’t Ole Scratch have a thing or two to say about his soul supplier being brought to cosmic justice? If innocent souls are so much more delicious to the Prince of Darkness, there’s more to lose, and maybe that even brings the horned one into the fray, or he designates a promising underling or nepo baby demon, and then Eric has to fight the literal powers of Hell as well protecting his target, which raises the question how far is he willing to go to seek the vengeance that he craves.
That question is actually one of the more interesting points because this version of The Crow directly connects the hero’s strength to the power of love. This is where putting more emphasis and time with the love story could have worked… had the love story been compelling. I like that it’s not his hatred that gives him his powers but his love for Shelly. The movie also provides a more urgent reason for Eric to make these bad men feel his crow-y wrath: he can retrieve her from Hell if he thwarts Vincent and his soul-trafficking gang. Even though she’s dead, he can still save her, and that is meaningful and provides a better motivation for our protagonist. I don’t know why, and it seems like this Kronos guy could be far more active and helpful as an otherworldly guide, but it’s an effective goal to drive our hero to slay his targets. I liked that late in the movie, after he receives some upsetting news about Shelly, his conflicted feelings are detracting from his super powers. There’s a direct and personal sense of causality. His doubts in whether he loved Shelly are manifesting as physical vulnerability. This approach could have worked had the filmmakers given the audience an engaging love story. The movie also feels built around hiding the acting limitations of Twigs (Honeyboy). She tries but this performance feels so listless and lacking a spark or charisma that could convince why Eric would risk it all for her.
There’s one notable action sequence and it deserves some kudos for its morbid invention. When you have a hero that can take all the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, it can lessen the stakes when it seems like they lack a credible weakness (call it the “Superman problem”). However, what I liked about the 2024 Crow is that even though he’s an undead warrior, that doesn’t mean Eric is somehow superior at fighting. He can take more punishment but that doesn’t mean he’s become an exemplary martial arts fighter, agile gymnast, or trained marksman. He’s still just a lanky guy, albeit one with washboard abs, the sculpted physique one naturally develops while recovering from substance abuse, of course. I enjoyed that this version of Eric was still struggling in his fights and could fall down and be bested. For his big assault scene at the opera house, he prioritizes a sword as his weapon of choice. At least that necessitates proximity to take out his opponents. The extended and very bloody fight scene is inventively gruesome; at one point, Eric uses the sword sticking out of his chest to lean forward and impale a henchman pinned on the floor. He even shoots through holes in his body to take out henchmen grappling him from behind. It’s the most thought put into utilizing the possibility of its premise. I don’t know why the rest of the movie couldn’t exhibit that same level of thought and creativity.
If you’re a fan of the comic or the 1994 movie, you’ll more than likely walk away from this newest Crow with some degree of disappointment. It wasn’t worthy of a placement on my own worst of the year list. Rather, it appears as a middling dark thriller that has some interesting creative choices that fail to pan out because the follow-through wasn’t as good as the idea. With a few more revisions, I think this basic approach could work, emphasizing the love story and devoting precious time to make it more impactful than just an innocent woman being avenged. However, by not fulfilling the possibility of these choices, instead we’re stuck with a lackluster romance eating up 45 minutes of screen time that could have been used for more satisfying supernatural action. By its sloppy end, I was just left shrugging. If this is what twenty-plus years of development wrought, maybe we needed a little longer for better results.
Nate’s Grade: C
Share this:
Dog Man (2025)
I probably wouldn’t have as much familiarity, and good feelings for the Dog Man series of books had I not become a father to a Dog Man-obsessed kiddo. The silly and imaginative comic books by Dav Pilkey, creator of Captain Underpants, are easy to enjoy with their upbeat tone, sly satire, and whimsical child-like art style. The movie is essentially all that you would want in a Dog Man movie, replaying some of the more famous stories and images and characters from some of the books. Dog Man is born when a police officer and his trusty canine sidekick get into an explosion and have their bodies surgically attached to one another becoming the ultimate crime fighter/man’s best friend. Dog Man has to battle villains like Petey (voiced by Pete Davidson), an evil cat genius, and Flippy (Ricky Gervais), a super intelligent fish with telekinetic powers as well as impress the always harried Chief (Lil Rel Howery). It’s a movie aimed squarely a children without any larger themes beyond life lessons about basic responsibility and empathy, important lessons but ones simplified and aimed at is target audience. The pacing and jokes are swift and the vocal cast is each well suited to the task, with Davidson being an inspired choice for the easily flummoxed and dastardly Petey. The material where Petey makes a child clone of himself and basically learns about parenthood is the best part of the books and could have been explored further in the movie. Still, it’s a low-stakes and goofy movie that mostly succeeds at channeling the appeal of the books. If you’re a Dog Man fan, or the parent to one, then the movie may be everything they wanted, though even at 80 minutes much longer than most bedtime reads.
Nate’s Grade: B-
Share this:
Megalopolis (2024)
Trying to make sense of Megalopolis is something of a fool’s errand. It clearly means something significant to its creator, legendary director Francis Ford Coppola. He’s been wanting to make this movie for decades and finally the urge just became too strong to ignore, so he sold his successful Zoetrope winery and put over $100 million of his own fortune into this movie to ensure his vision would be unclouded by meddling studio execs and moneymen. It’s the kind of bracing act of artistic hubris and ambition that is worth celebrating. It’s a big swing from a legendary filmmaker who has quite often gone overboard only to return from the brink with cinematic classics, like Apocalypse Now and Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Given his filmography, you would think that Coppola has more than earned the benefit of the doubt. Except… the Coppola of today isn’t exactly in his prime. He hasn’t had a great movie since 1992’s Dracula, and in those ensuing 30 years, he’s made inexplicable movies like Jack, where Robin Williams plays a kid who ages rapidly, and Twixt, a bizarre misfire with Edgar Allan Poe and vampires that was reportedly inspired by a dream he had. I would expect any new Coppola project to lean more towards these kinds of artistic follies than his generation-defining classics. The man is 85 years old and put all his remaining artistic cache and wealth into guaranteeing that we live in a world with Megalopolis. After seeing his long-gestating opus, I cannot say we are better for the trouble.
It’s hard to condense the plot of Megalopolis because so much is happening while nothing seems that important. For example, brilliant architect Caesar Catilina (Adam Driver) wants to build a new wondrous city he calls Megalopolis, a utopia for the masses. The power brokers of New Rome, including Mayor Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito) and CEO of the largest bank Hamilton Crassu III (Jon Voight), are against such radical changes and see Caesar as an upstart. It also so happens that Caesar can stop time at will, until he cannot. He also has discovered a miracle material to build his futuristic city, but nobody seems to care. The masses of New Rome are more interested in whether or not a pop star is still really a virgin. Julia (Nathalie Emmanuel), the mayor’s party girl daughter, witnesses Caesar stopping time, which is a big deal, or maybe it’s not, but she’s intrigued by the mercurial artist seeking to bring to life his unique vision. But Caesar only likes people interested in art and philosophy and books. Could he fall for her, and will it possibly cost his artistic vision from becoming a shimmering reality of hope?
This is a $100-million-dollar movie created entirely for one person, and if you happen to be Francis Ford Corolla, then congratulations, you will understand and properly appreciate the artistic messages and bravado of Megalopolis. For the rest of us poor souls, we’ll be struggling for meaning and insight. The movie almost exists on a purely allegorical level, or at least it must considering that so much of the scene-to-scene plotting is haphazard and underdeveloped.
Let’s start with the central conflict: why are these forces so immovably against one another? If you were the mayor of a city with a raft of problems, it would sure seem like a great move for a utopian addition. I suppose he and the other men in power are afraid of ceding some of their influence and status to this newcomer, and that is something that could have been explored stronger through generational conflict, the old having a stranglehold on power and losing sight of relevance but still clinging to their storied perches. Caesar should be a threat, an appeal to the people that they no longer truly serve. However, in this story, Caesar is so brilliant and any person standing in his way is meant to look foolish or evil. It reminded me a lot of Ayn Rand’s terrible book Atlas Shrugged that was turned into a terrible trilogy of ideologically rotten movies where the brilliant billionaires are tired of their genius being wasted by government regulation. Obviously Caesar is meant to represent The Artist who is being doubted or interfered with, which is how Coppola views himself, or at least filmmakers in general. Therefore this character can have no flaws and must always be right because the message is to give the great artists their space to be great, to challenge our preconceptions of what art can be. He must be vindicated, so it makes him a rather boring and simplistic character who wants a glorious future for the people.
But what exactly is Megalopolis as a utopia? All we know is that it has moving sidewalks and gyroscope orbs for traveling and it’s very glowy. Visually it reminds me of another Adam Driver movie, 2016’s Midnight Special, when the alien world began co-existing with our world. This magic future city is made of a magic future element that also has the magic ability to heal Caesar after he gets critically injured. All of those details beg for more clarity or development, along with Caesar’s ability to stop time, which I guess is hereditary. These elements should be more impactful, but like the utopian city of Megalopolis, they’re just convenient devices, to simply provide the protagonist with a means of solution whatever his dilemma may be. There’s another conflict in the middle where Caesar is framed with an altered video of him having sex with that virginal pop star, but this too is resolved ludicrously fast. Even this scandal cannot last longer than a few minutes before once again dear Caesar is proven virtuous and unassailable. When he has a magic solution for every problem, including reconstructing a hole in his face, and he can never be wrong, and he has no complexity except for his supposed genius, but his genius is also vaguely defined as far as the actual outcome of his supposed utopia, it makes for an extremely uninteresting main character that gets tiresome as we never flesh out his important attributes.
Likewise, the satire of Megalopolis is fleeting and broad and hard to really engage with. There’s the rich and powerful living in excess and with a sense of depraved callousness toward those they feel are lesser. This is best epitomized by Aubrey Plaza’s tabloid journalist character with the exceptionally bad name of Wow Platinum. She’s a gold digger and flippantly shallow as well as super horny, starting as a fling with Caesar before moving onto Clodio (Shia LeBeouf), the grandson to the CEO of the big bank. This woman has no guile to her and is transparently voracious for all she covets, whether it be sexual or material. With Plaza giving a delightfully campy performance, really digging into the scenery-chewing villainy of her character, it makes her the most entertaining person on screen, and a welcomed respite from all the other actors being so self-serious and stodgy and haughty. This tempers the satiric effect because now I’m looking at Wow Platinum as a godsend. Obviously New Rome is meant to represent the United States, so all of its foreboding narration about the death of empires is meant to make the audience compare the end of Rome to the internal fissures of America. Like everything else in the movie, the comparison is only skin deep, and it’s merely asking you to juxtapose rather than critically compare modern-day to the collapse of Rome. By the end, there’s some definite unsubtle swipes at topical political culture, like when Clodio adopts himself as a humble man of the people to “Make New Rome Great Again” and foments an army of red-hatted rabble. But what exactly is Coppola saying with this? That the people in power will pose as populists to manipulate the lower classes into action that benefits them? Not exactly breaking news, nor is it explored on a deeper or more complex or at least more interesting development. Much like the plotting of Megalopolis, the satirical elements are a cacophonous mess of dispirit ideas and directions.
It’s staggering to believe that the man who wrote Patton and The Godfather is the same man who wrote such lines like, “You’re anal as hell whereas I am oral as hell,” as Plaza looks face-first at Driver’s crotch. The dialogue in this movie is tortured and feels like it was written by A.I., or by aliens who were trying to recreate human social interactions but whose only archive of study was the amazing catalogue of movies by Neil Breen and Tommy Wiseau. The “Entitles me?” conversation that repeats itself four times, the “riches of my Emersonian mind,” to “when we ask questions, that’s basically a utopia,” to what might be the most eye-rolling line of 2024, where a vindictive Voight hides a tiny bow and arrow under a sheet by his waist and literally says, “What do you think of this boner I’ve got here?” Yes, the man who gave us The Godfather has also now given us, “What do you think of this boner I’ve got here?” The movie is so preoccupied with the fall of empires and yet a line of dialogue like that is a sign of the decline of an empire.
Ultimately, Megalopolis reminded me of Richard Kelly’s 2007 flop, Southland Tales, a connection I also felt while watching 2023’s Beau is Afraid as well. I wrote, “It’s because both movies are stuffed to the brim with their director’s assorted odd ideas and concepts, as if either man was afraid they were never going to make another movie again and had to awkwardly squeeze in everything they ever wanted into one overburdened project.” It’s an ungainly mess, a protracted and self-indulgent litany of Coppola’s foibles and follies, and it’s practically impenetrable for an audience. I challenge anyone to seriously engage with this movie beyond rubbernecking. I cannot believe this movie cost $100 million dollars and for a passion project there’s so little that makes me wonder how someone would be so passionate about this. It’s not a good movie but it has its own ongoing fascination for cinephiles morbidly curious what Coppola had to make. These are the kinds of bold artistic swings we should cherish, where filmmakers with storied careers are willing to burn it all down for one more project that must be just so, like Kevin Costner’s four-part Horizon Western that we’ll probably never see completed. I wanted artists to test the waters, to chase their visions, to be ambitious. But that doesn’t mean the art is always worth it.
Nate’s Grade: D
nathanzoebl 
You must be logged in to post a comment.