I LOVE MY DAD

Directing: B+
Acting: B+
Writing: B
Cinematography: B
Editing: B+

If “cringe comedy” is a thing, then I Love My Dad is its poster child. And I’m not usually one for deeply uncomfortable stories, but I find myself impressed with this one nonetheless, and able to get fully behind it. I wholeheartedly recommend it.

That does not mean it’s not without its flaws. But, the flaws are minor. A last-minute minor twist, something that functions more as a punch line really, which really doesn’t stand up to any real scrutiny. But, in the moment, it’s effective and amusing. Such is the case with this entire movie.

Let’s cut to the chase: this is a movie about a guy who catfishes his son, posing as a young woman online in a desperate attempt at staying in his son’s life after he’s been blocked on social media. It’s sort of like Mrs. Doubtfire for the 21st century, only far less mainstream a release and, crucially, fully acknowledging all of the ways in which it’s problematic.

In fact, it’s entirely the point. Chuck is a deadbeat dad, someone who is never there for his son, who has recently attempted suicide. Fanklin blocking him on social media is described by Franklin himself as “setting healthy boundaries.” It’s a moment when Chuck is forced to face his lifetime of unreliability.

The miracle of I Love My Dad is how Patton Oswalt manages to make Chuck both pitiful and likable at the same time. That is an incredible trick. In fact, I have long been such a fan of Oswalt as a comedian, I really thought it would be hard to stop thinking about how I was looking at Patton Oswalt. (Oswalt is also currently voicing Matthew the Raven on Netflix’s The Sandman, and I am regularly distracted by his distinctively recognizable voice.) And yet, somehow, within minutes I forgot I was looking at Patton Oswalt the actor, and fully accepted him as Chuck the deadbeat dad who nevertheless really loves his son.

Much more importantly, Franklin is played by 32-year-old James Morosini, who I literally just discovered while writing this was also the writer and director of this film. And here I had just been impressed with his eminently convincing, subtle, and nuanced performance as a young man with mental health issues. This is clearly a man with stunningly ample talents and I pray we get to see much more of his work in the years to come.

The supporting cast is rounded out by Transparent’s Amy Landecker; Wine Country’s Rachel Dratch; Get Out’s Lil Rel Howery; and relative unknown Claudia Sulewski as Becca, the young woman Chuck is pretending to be—based on a real Becca from the diner in his Maine hometown.

Chuck is never intentionally creepy or gross, however. He’s just stunningly boneheaded in his decision making, and quickly gets in over his head, as his son falls in love with the woman he’s pretending to be. A plot like this could very easily go off the rails very quickly, but Morosini’s script pushes the envelope just far enough to be somewhere within the gray area between horrifying and devastating. It’s a line that, somehow, is often very funny. This is the kind of movie that will have you laughing out loud at the same time it makes you want to crawl under your chair.

I Love My Dad surprises in all the right ways. Just when you’re afraid it will go to a place that’s not just bad but unforgivable, it pivots to a place that’s still painfully awkward, but somehow tolerable. Given the fraught tone it’s going for, it really exceeds all expectations.

They might drive you right into lethal embarrassment.

Overall: B+

BULLET TRAIN

Directing: C
Acting: B
Writing: C+
Cinematography: B-
Editing: C+
Special Effets: C-

There have been a few great movies set on trains, and a lot of pretty good ones. This latest one, an ensemble piece with Brad Pitt at its center, hardly makes it into the realm of “okay.” It’s got way too much talking for how dull most of the dialogue is, and not enough action.

The last act does get more exciting, with a sequence that effectively turns it into Runaway Train, but this is a 126-minute movie that could easily have been 105 minutes at most. By then it’s a little late for the movie to save itself.

To give the movie credit where it’s due, the script, by Zak Olkewicz based on the novel of the same name by Japanese novelsit Kôtarô Isaka, does have several moments that made me laugh pretty hard. They just come interspersed with scenes that are overstuffed and over-concerned with a labyrinthine plot about a man (Pitt) hired to grab a briefcase full of money off a train. There are also several cameos that are fun, but feature actors whose talents are too great to be wasted on this movie.

I spent about the first half of Bullet Train wishing here were more action sequences. That’s what I come to a movie like this for, for some excitement, not lame attempts at “snarky banter” and “snappy editing.” This is a movie influenced by so many others that came before it that it collapses under the weight of the superior content that came before it.

A lot could have been forgiven with just some well-choreographed fight sequences. Instead, Bullet Train too often mistakes gore and a high body count for wit. And being set on a bullet train, there are many opportunities for gripping excitement. The few times this movie takes such opportunities, it veers headlong into the absurd. A man tricked into getting off at a stop jumps onto the back of the train accelerating out of the station, and then uses his brass knuckles to break though the last train car’s back window. Seriously?

Easily the worst part of this movie is its visual effects. It’s a widespread problem these days for movie CGI to look cheap and incomplete, but Bullet Train is a particularly bad offender. Literally not one scene with any kind of background looks real. How am I supposed to get invested in what’s going on if every scene effectively looks like a cartoon? Something that looks fake has no capacity to impress.

I suppose the best thing about this movie is the ensemble cast, featuring Brian Tyree Henry, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Michael Shannon, Sandra Bullock, Bad Bunny, Zazie Beets, and plenty of others, in addition to Brad Pitt. In the hands of another director, this cast alone might have elevated the material, but David Leitch has fashioned something that just feels overall like a cash grab. Ironically, it is apparently poised to easily out-earn any other movie this weekend, but that’s really only because blockbuster competition in 2022 has been sparse. When it comes to great tentpole entertainment this summer, it’s been a little bleak.

I don’t expect a movie like Bullet Train to be high art, mind you. I do prefer it not be lazy, which this movie is on nearly all fronts. I won’t deny that I was entertained, but that’s hardly an achievement considering the options in theaters right now. This was a movie I was fine going to see, only because it was what the multiplex had to offer. I long for a time when filmmakers aim higher.

Time to get onboard the “off the rails” train!

Overall: C+

DC LEAGUE OF SUPER PETS

Directing: C+
Acting: B+
Writing: C-
Cinematography: B-
Editing: C+
Animation: B

I suppose if you take your children, or your niece or your nephew, to see DC League of Super Pets, they will be suitably entertained, and you won’t hate the experience.

That’s about as close as I can get to heaping praise on this movie, which, even as an animated feature, embodies every cliché of comic book superhero movies developed over the past twenty years. It sticks to the formula, following the same story beats as nearly all of the rest of them, with a big, effects-laden climactic battle at the end, the fate of the world (or the city, or the galaxy, or the universe, take your pick) hanging in the balance. It has a few clever one-liners, most of which got burned through in the trailer. It wants you to think it has a sense of humor about itself, with self-referential meta humor, except that it’s all been done before ad nauseam, and ultimately it’s just another in a long line of cash grabs.

And League of Super Pets is very much in the “DC Cinematic Uniiverse,” the opening titles preceded by the glimpses of all the DC heroes in a graphic presentation long known to be part of their attempt at replicating Marvel’s runaway success. This movie doesn’t just feature Superman and his super dog, Krypto, but it features every quasi-human superhero member of the Justice League as a diversified ensemble supporting cast—each of them positioned to wind up with one of the “League of Super Pets” as their own pet.

To be fair, I did kind of enjoy this movie, for a while. Some of the humor, and a few of the animal-based puns (love Krypto’s dad, “Dog-El”), actually land. But, the shtick outlasts its welcome, and you feel all the exact same pieces of the “superhero story” clicking right into place. The truth is, DC League of Super Pets is just another superhero movie, just like countless others that came before it. Grafting the tropes onto domesticated animals doesn’t make it any more original.

If anything makes this movie watchable, it’s the voice talent, which is abundant: Dwayne Johnson as Krypto; Kevin Hart as Ace, the invulnerable dog; Vanessa Bayer as PB, the pig who can change her size; Diego Luna as Chip, the electrified squirrel; Natasha Lyonne as Merton, the speedy turtle; Kate McKinnon as Lulu, the villainous guinea pig; John Krasinski as Superman; Keanu Reeves as Batman; Marc Maron as Lex Luthor, of all people—his second major voice role in an animated feature this year (The Bad Guys isn’t exactly a classic either, but it’s a better movie)—and there are plenty more, in many cases recognizable voices in cameo parts. Every person voicing characters in this movie is clearly having a great time, and that alone makes it more fun to watch.

It’s still pretty forgettable once it’s over. DC League of Super Pets is fun while it lasts, but there’s nothing special about it. It’s just another movie that is almost literally paint-by-numbers and will disappear into the outer rims of the zeitgeist once opening weekend has passed.

Maybe if they’re cut enough you’ll be distracted from how stale it gets.

Overall: C+

FIRE OF LOVE

Directing: B
Writing: B-
Cinematography: A-
Editing: B+

There are many who have seen the documentary Fire of Love who consider it a must-see, and it’s easy to see why: it’s full of truly incredible footage left behind by French volcanologists Katia and Maurice Krafft, literally up until the day—spoiler alert!—they died together in a pyroclastic flow on Mount Unzen in Japan in 1991. Their footage goes back years, though, about two decades into the early seventies, and they caught stunning images throughout that time, very effectively showcased in this film.

Director Sara Dosa is clearly presenting Fire of Love as the story of these two people, though, and not just the story of the footage they got, and in the end, she leaves us with a wildly incomplete picture. I’m dying to know what other scientists, their peers, thought of their antics, which seemed a great deal reckless to me. Were these just two idiots so addicted to the dangerous lure of volcanic eruptions that it killed them, or did they have legitimate scientific reasons for pulling what appeared to me to be ridiculous and potentially lethal stunts?

There is one instance, after all, when they literally take a rubber raft out into the middle of a lake of sulfuric acid, and due to a headwind they wind up taking three hours to struggle paddling their way back to shore. A couple of other scientist friends, who are more experts at sulphuric acid, smartly stayed on shore. Later, on their many press tours in support of films they made or books they wrote about volcanoes, Maurice is seen multiple times gleefully referring to themselves as “the ignorant geologists” who took the senselessly hazardous path. More than being focused on the results of research, which you would think these two would be prioritizing, he just seems to love the attention.

Very little of Fire of Love gives any air time to Katia and Maurice’s career accomplishments, only mentioning one admittedly pretty significant one near the end of the film. There is no examination of the necessity of their incessant need to get far too close to lava flows and pyroclastic explosions all over the world, certainly not in any context of the pursuit of learning. Sara Dosa’s film instead appears designed almost solely to wow us with jaw dropping video footage of volcanic eruptions from decades past, and combined with voiceover narration provided by Miranda July, it certainly achieves that goal.

I just couldn’t stop thinking about what the hell Katia and Maurice were thinking. Clearly I’m meant to be moved by their dual loves, equally for each other and for volcanoes, an unbroken bond that lasted until a tragic end that also contained an element of poetic justice. We see a bit of frustrations they have with each other, multiple tongue-in-cheek references to their “volcanic relationship” that is clearly hyperbolic, and a small amount of Katia feeling that Maurice gets closer to the dangers than necessary—all while she does exactly the same as she never leaves his side.

They were to people obsessed, like tornado chasers but with volcanoes. Several sequences in the film detail notable world volcanic eruptions during their careers, including the three months they spent studying the blast zone of Mt. St. Helens immediately after its eruption, which they were deeply disappointed not to have been present to see in person. A couple of minutes detail shots and footage of the St. Helens eruption taken by other photographers, and some of it is clearly rare footage that comes close to mind-blowing.

So, I’m of two minds about Fire of Love, which is absolutely worth watching on the strength of its two decades of exclusive footage alone. Just don’t expect to get much out of the “romantic” story of two scientists so dedicated to their passions that they were willing to die for it. That leaves far more questions than answers, and another documentary would do well to get into their actual research and whether their individual work actually moved the field of volcanology forward in any meaningful way. This movie provides us with no such information, instead playing to the crowds who come for two intellectual people apparently done in by dumb love.

Dancing with death: two middle-aged lovers in a shower of lava bombs.

Overall: B

NOPE

Directing: B
Acting: B
Writing: B-
Cinematography: B+
Editing: B
Special Effects: B+

It’s entirely possible that there’s something I’m missing about Nope, that there’s something great about it that isn’t registering. I’m inclined to give Jordan Peele the benefit of the doubt because Get Out (2017) alone proved him to be a visionary writer and director. Us (2019) was a less coherent, but still compelling, follow-up with a truly stunning performance by its lead actor, Lupita Nyong’o.

It might be fair to say that Nope, Peele’s new film, indicates a consistency of diminishing returns. There was something profound about his previous two films, whether in its script or in its actors (or both), which I fail to identify this time around. The potential certainly seems to be there: early on in Nope, an eerie tone settles over the film, and suggests this could be the 21st-century answer to the Spielberg masterpiece Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

Except . . . maybe not. Benevolence is clearly not what Jordan Peele is going for, nor is it ever. At 130 minutes, the pacing is slower than one might expect, and in the end, disparate threads I expected to come together in the end just remain unresolved. This may have been by design, but a sub plot about a chimpanzee rampage tragically killing people on the set of an old nineties sitcom—I just don’t get it. Maybe I will after I read some other reviews, a think piece here or there, and listen to some podcasts. Where my mind is right after seeing the film, though, is that I prefer films that provide some clarity on what the hell we’re seeing onscreen.

There’s a lot that happens in Nope that skirts logic. This is not to be confused with realism; a movie about a literally alien, otherworldly threat is unrealistic by definition. There are storytelling choices here that lack logic.

Which makes discussing Nope here much more of a challenge, because I don’t want to spoil anything critical, nor does anyone reading this (presumably). If Nope has any deeper value to me, it’s in the fact that I am now eager to learn what other people make of it. The trailer already reveals what appears to be a flying saucer, although “appears” is the key word there. I would be interested to learn what kind of research went into the design of that thing, which at times resembles a jellyfish, using the atmosphere the way a marine animal might move through water.

Nope is certainly unlike any other movie, or even any other Jordan Peel movie. In terms of what value that holds, I suppose your mileage may vary. It’s a mark in its favor, in my opinion. Daniel Kaluuya, returning after his starring role in Get Out, returns as a young man who has inherited his late father’s horse ranch, where they provide stunt horses for Hollywood productions. Keke Palmer plays his sister, who is barely interested in the business dealings of the ranch. With just a few scenes that are exceptions, the majority of Nope features either only these two, or a combination of them and three additional people: Brandon Perea as the alien-obsessed guy from the electronics store where they buy surveillance cameras; Steven Yuen as the local cowboy-entertainer who also happens to have been a child actor on the show with the chimp; and Michael Wincott as the cinematographer roped into helping them get the “impossible shot” of whatever they’re dealing with in the sky.

Kaluuya is one of the best actors working today, and yet his character here is so deadpan that it barely feels like he’s trying. Michael Wincott gives a similar performance, while Palmer and Yuen are a bit more animated. Yuen’s character is telegraphed to be key to the story, but in the end I cannot pinpoint how. The very opening scene is a reference to the chimp tragedy from the nineties, which would suggest it’s very important, but the narrative thread there winds up blowing away in the wind of that grey saucer thing.

In short, I don’t really understand Nope. What I can’t yet figure out is whether I should have, in light of its many redemptive elements: this movie is very effective at the suspense it establishes, and successfully creeped me out. It remains a fairly good time at the movies, with a plainly talented director and excellent actors, all of whom make unusual choices here, perhaps worth mulling over. Perhaps the most unusual thing about is that, in spite of my inability to settle on what to make of it, I want to recommend it, just so I can hear what others make of it. If that was specifically Jordan Peel’s intention, then maybe he really is a genius. Fuck if I know!

Sure.

Overall: B

MRS. HARRIS GOES TO PARIS

Directing: B
Acting: B+
Writing: B-
Cinematography: B
Editing: B
Costume Design: B+

Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris is a harmless diversion, if slightly rushing through its plot points, and just superficial enough to serve as blandly pleasant entertainment that is not much in the way of intellectual stimulation. I’m starting right off by coming close to backhanded compliments, but movies like this have their place and have their audience; it had its place for a couple of hours in front of my own face, after all. That said, I did think this film was a little too enamored with its own cuteness, with several diversions into overtly contrived speeches and dialogue.

All that said, if there is any reason to see Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris, it is absolutely Lesley Manville, doing a stellar job in the title role as a London cleaning lady with dreams of buying a £500 dress. And even though the characters ironically speak about how fairy tales aren’t real and this is “the real world,” Mrs. Harris’s entire story here plays very much like a fairy tale, what with her coming into surprising amounts of money from multiple sources all at once, giving her barely enough money to realize her dream of traveling to Paris and going to the Chrisian Dior fashion house to buy an expensive, custom tailored dress.

Mrs. Harris somehow quite easily stumbles into the Chrisian Dior space, after leaving the airport on foot, befriending a few sweet homeless men (did she get all the way into town on foot?), and finding her way there after getting some simple directions. When the fashion house manager, an elitist woman (but of course, spoiler alert, also with a heart of gold) played by Isabelle Hupert, tries to convince Mrs. Harris she really belongs in a department store, all the models and seamstresses are immediately charmed by her.

There’s a somewhat odd dichotomy of themes here, with director and co-writer Anthony Fabian weaving in a persistent subtext of classism, while somehow completely ignoring racism—in the real real world, you can hardly have a society with one without the other. Yet in this particular fairy tale, it seems to be a sort of racial utopia, with Mrs. Harris’s best friend being a Black woman who is also a cleaning lady (played charmingly, I might add, by Ellen Thomas); and a majority of the Dior fashion models being beautiful women of color. There is likely a historical element of exoticism going on here, but that is never commented on or acknowledged; rather, it is presented more as a period detail. It should also be noted that this is supposed to be the Paris of 1957, which was presumably more “progressive” than the U.S., but you would never know in what ways or to what true degree by watching this film.

Nevertheless, I did find myself engaged by Manville’s performance in particular, and am not sure I would have enjoyed the movie even this much had someone else, a lesser performer, been cast in the role. The last time Manville turned heads in a major role was as Daniel Day-Lewis’s designer sister in the wonderful 2018 film Phantom Thread, which also happened to be set in the world of fashion. Her characters in these two films are diametrical opposites, and watching her in these two movies alone might constitute a masterclass in acting. The earlier film is far more serious, far more nuanced, and far more challenging, but those are often more my cup of tea.

Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris will still be plenty of people’s cup of tea, and for a couple of hours it was even mine too; it’s just not my favorite tea. Not the most flavorful. I like something with slightly more of a kick. This film is largely superficial in its themes, gleaning over what might have benefited from more depth. But, sometimes you just want to escape into a movie about a woman in love with beautiful dresses, and this film does a perfectly good job of quenching that thirst.

Take a swirl though Mrs. Harris’s broadening world.

Overall: B

OFFICIAL COMPETITION

Directing: B-
Acting: B
Writing: B-
Cinematography: B+
Editing: B-

Official Competition feels very much a lesser Pedro Almodóvar film, one of his rare offerings with less substance. This movie satirizes celebrity culture, a recognizable point of view even from a non-American culture, but it’s also begging to be picked apart, analyzed, part of think pieces. Unfortunately for co-directors Mariano Cohn and Gastón Duprat, it’ll never get that kind of attention. It’s almost an irony that I’m even writing about it right now. My movie review audience reaches will into the . . . ones.

This isn’t all Cohn and Duprat’s fault. Official Competition is getting some good reviews, by many people who clearly liked it more than I did. And, it’s almost certain that this movie would be a larger part of the pop culture conversation had it been released prior to 2020—maybe not much larger, but larger nonetheless. I went to see this at 7:30 on a Tuesday night and I was one of four people in the theater. So many people prefer watching their movies at home anymore, it had me contemplating the ultimate fate of the Seattle International Film Festival, which runs the theater where I saw this. How long can they sustain running the three theaters in town at this rate, I wonder?

I went to see it because I wanted to go to a movie, and this was the option. Options are limited broadly; what few options there are, I have either already seen or can already tell they aren’t worth my time. Was Official Competition worth my time? That’s tricky to answer. I enjoyed getting out to see a movie. I’d have preferred to see something better though, something not so convinced of its own cleverness.

Particularly in the beginning, scenes in this movie go on a very long time, usually with some combination of only three actors: Penélope Cruz, playing an eccentric and wildly demanding film director; and both Antonio Banderas and Oscar Martínez, playing the two stars of the film she is making. They have very different acting styles but ultimately the same amount of ego and hubris, and therein lies the central tension.

I thought a lot about the pandemic while watching this, as it felt a lot like a “covid movie,” with such a small cast. There’s a good 15 or so other actors, but never all in the same room, and probably ninety percent of the time, only three or four people in the same room at once. Production did get shut down due to covid, but the script was already written. I suppose they lucked out in already having a production that was easier to mount than most during lingering lockdowns.

It does make the story feel a little outside reality at times, though. We are witness to countless rehearsals and “acting exercises” (one of which gets Banderas’s and Martínez’s actor characters to unite in their fury toward their director), but never really any actual shooting on set. The script is very dialogue heavy, with both regular dialogue and the reading of their script-within-a-script. I have to admit that, in hindsight, it is very well constructed. It just that, from scene to scene, I consistently grew restless. I’ve seen references to this film’s “hilarity” and, with the exception of maybe two chuckles, it’s not funny at all. It doesn’t even particularly feel like it’s intended to be. Such is the case with satire, though, which makes the movie only particularly entertaining to those who are convinced they “get it.”

I’m pretty sure I get it, though. I’m just not exceedingly impressed. And unless you already have a deep investment in foreign films that explore such quasi-intellectual themes, you won’t be either.

Sitting around trying to find ways to make the movie better.

Overall: B-

MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON

Directing: B+
Acting: B+
Writing: B+
Cinematography: A-
Editing: B+
Animation: B+
Special Effects: A-

I just wanted to see a movie today. I checked the listings at my local AMC Theater, noticed a title I had never heard of called Marcel the Shell with Shoes On, checked to make sure the score on MetaCritic worked for me, and thought: that’ll do.

And I’m so glad I went, even though it became clear pretty quickly that what i was watching was the culmination of an internet phenomenon I had not been aware of—but, take it from me, that knowledge is not in any way necessary to being thoroughly charmed by the little, one-inch toy shell with a single eyeball, an animated mouth, and, as the title indicates, standing on a pair of tiny little shoes. Marcel is lent a slightly intensified, even more childlike voice by the truly distinctive Jenny Slate, although one of the most deeply impressive things about this production is the naturalistic dialogue between Marcel and director and co-writer Dean Fleischer-Camp, who plays himself, mostly from behind the camera.

The conceit of the film is that Fleischer-Camp is doing a documentary, focused on Marcel while he stays in the AirBnB space where Marcel lives. After some introductory sequences that establish a tone of mild but unique enchantment, we learn that with the exception of Marcel’s shell grandmother, his entire family and community has disappeared from a sock drawer they had all designated as a safe space. Over the course of the film, the search for Marcel’s loved ones results in a prime time news program interview. There are certain delights I do not want to spoil here, such as the delightfully left-field cameo in the part of the TV journalist, or even who voices the grandmother shell, Nana Connie.

Honestly, if at all possible, I would recommend going into Marcel the Shell as blind as possible. For a bit I just found it moderately amusing, wondering vaguely it this really needed to be stretched into a feature-length film—and then it blindsided me with several truly hilarious gags, unique in execution and thus transcending its “quirkiness.” Listening to Marcel talk is like listening to the most hilariously original ideas coming from a four-year-old.

Of course, as this film makes clear, there will be many people for whom going in totally blind will be impossible. I didn’t even know who Marcel the Shell was, and there are tens of millions of people who do. It should be noted, though, that there is a vast difference of sophistication between that first YouTube video from 2010 and this film, although it should also be stressed that all of it is in the best way. On a technical level, I was consistently impressed by this film. There’s a sequence in which Marcel rides on the dashboard of Fleischer-Camp’s car, while standing on a map. The combination of stop-motion animation with seamless shifting light and shadow patterns on the map, the kind of thing most viewers probably aren’t even paying attention to, left me in awe. For all I know, it was an effect achieved through some simple means. Or maybe it was some massive technical achievement. Either way it looked incredible.

This brings me back to the dialogue between Fleischer-Camp and Marcel, usually with Fleischer-Camp speaking from behind the camera. It all comes across as totally natural and real, but there clearly had to be a lot of meticulous planning involved, in order to create animation that synced with it convincingly, That this film could be made with such considerations and still be so charming—and, surprisingly, poignant—is something I find legitimately astounding. This is one of those lucky instances where something so clearly a labor of love resulted in something its audiences can easily love just as much.

And whether you know Marcel the Shell already or you don’t, I am loathe to reveal any more about it. It’s such a delightful surprise on its own terms, every audience deserves to experience that surprise as thoroughly as possible.

Marcel has an eye opening experience on the internet.

Overall: B+

THOR: LOVE AND THUNDER

Directing: B-
Acting: B-
Writing: C+
Cinematography: B
Editing: B
Special Effects: B-

Christian Bale. Russell Crow. Sam Neill. Melissa McCarthy! I swear to god, whether it’s a lead role or a cameo—and eventually, honestly, probably both at different times in most cases—every working actor today will one day find themselves in one of these Marvel movies. How does anyone find it in any way novel anymore?

There was this period where it felt like MCU movies were getting more consistently good. Now there’s a burgeoning attitude about post-Infinity War movies on average waning in quality. I’m thinking there is some truth to that. How many MCU movies have featured Thor as a character? This is the fourth in the “Thor series,” but I had to Google it: Chris Hemsworth has appeared as Thor in yet another four of the movies. He is hardly the only character for which this is an issue.

Much was made of how much life director Taika Waititi breathed into Thor with Thor: Ragnarok in 2017. The previous two films, directed by Kenneht Branagh in 2011 and Alan Taylor had taken themselves too seriously, the first one in particular given an unearned sense of “pedigree.” Taika Waititi came in with Ragnarok and gave it wit, made it fun in a way other MCU films thus far had not been, and it became widely regarded as one of the best of all the Marvel films. Even I think it remains one of the most fun.

So, Thor: Love and Thunder, also directed and co-written by Taika Waititi, arrives after hot anticipation—and a general let down. The trailers certainly titillated fans with the return of Natalie Portman as Jane Foster from the first two films, but attempting to mashup the sensibilities of the earlier films with that of Ragnarok resulted in something uneven at best, using an actor of Portman’s caliber only to leave her ample talents wasted. This kind of “quirky superhero movie,” in which her “Lady Thor” is trying in vain to come up with a catchphrase that sticks, just isn’t a good fit for her. Every minute Portman is onscreen is collectively the weakest element of Love and Thunder.

On the upside, we get to see Chris Hemsworth nude from behind for a split second in this one. And, Russell Crowe as Zeus is pretty fun, with the significant exception of a moment when he prances in a way that turns being effeminate into a punch line. There is another sequence, like in the previous film, with a re-enacted play featuring other actors playing the “characters” of Thor, in which several name actors make cameos. For a moment we get to see another Hemsworth.

The villain this time around is Christian Bale, playing “Gorr the God Butcher,” giving his all in a performance of a character who ultimately lacks substance, or even half the depth we’re supposed to feel. He is let down by gods who do nothing about his dying child, somehow gets his hands on a sword that can kill gods, and sets out to exact revenge on all gods as a result. Curiously, Gorr is the one character never afforded any humor; we are meant always to pity him. Villains in a movie like this always work better if they can offer at least some level of comedy. But, Gorr seems to exist in a different movie.

Honestly, Thor: Love and Thunder feels a bit rushed, with some CGI effects that feel like their seams are showing, and a sometimes incoherent plot. This movie has four credited editors. By and large the ensemble cast of actors have enough collective charisma to keep the proceedings engaging, so I was relatively entertained. But, it also tries to be all things to all people, and winds up being not-great for anyone. Well, except for the eager fanboys in the row behind me, I guess. Those kids would have lapped this movie up no matter how bad it was, though. One of them declared the movie “hilarious” when it ended, and I just found myself thinking about how that guy needs to broaden his horizons.

To be fair, a lot of it is funny. I got a few good chuckles out of it. But, this far in, it also feels like what genuine cleverness is left to Thor is being wrung out like a spent sponge. It’s feeling once again like these superhero movies are becoming more of the same shit, different cast. Except it’s just the supporting cast that’s different, because the principals are still the same. And as always, what reason is there to get emotionally invested when we know that gods never die? Even those supposedly threatened by a “god butcher” predictably find a way to better him in the end. Oh, oops. Spoiler alert! Thor: Love and Thunder is, in the end . . . adequate.

She doesn’t even look like it’s a comfortable fit.

Overall: B-

MR MALCOM'S LIST

Directing: B
Acting: B
Writing: B
Cinematography: B+
Editing: B

Mr. Malcom’s List is basically Bridgerton in feature film form. It’s fine entertainment, pleasant enough if otherwise unremarkable, except for its similarly “color conscious” casting. I suppose in this case it might be more accurate to fall back on the “color blind casting” phrase, given that in this case, unlike Bridgerton, none of the characters comment on their ethnic differences.

I’m never against this sort of approach, although it’s inevitably distracting when placed squarely within the context of a deeply patriarchal Regency-era society which is afforded none of the same revisionist history. Why make the cast unrealistically diverse but make no change to the subjugation of women? Because then we wouldn’t get the same Jane Austen-lite period pieces we love, I guess. Not that it would be impossible to change this aspect of society and still tell basically the same story, about a spurned woman’s attempt at revenge.

I can’t find any source online as to whether the Suzanne Allain novel on which this film is based also featured principal characters of different races, as though they all lived in 19th-century England harmoniously. All I can speak to is the film, which clearly serves as a salve for people going through Bridgerton withdrawals. The story telling is incredibly similar, right down to the narration by an older woman. Mercifully, the voiceover narration here is used sparingly.

The spurned woman at the center of the story is Julia Thistlewaite (Zawe Ashton), a woman reaching a ripe old age of mid-twenties and apparently running the risk of becoming a spinster. She is taken to the opera by one very wealthy and very eligible Mr. Malcom (Sope Dìrísù), who doesn’t bother taking Julia out again after she responds to an intellectual question with ignorance, and somehow this gets around and results in Julie’s public humiliation. When Julia learns from her cousin Lord Cassidy (Oliver Jackson-Cohen) that she was rejected by Mr. Malcom due to not meeting his list of qualifications to be his bride—hence the film title—she is quite unproportionately indignant, and enlists the help of her childhood friend Selina (Freida Pinto) in exacting revenge: she will meet all of these qualifications, then reject him with her own list.

Where this is going it easy to see from virtually the first frames of the film, and to say Mr. Malcom’s List is packed of conventional contrivances is an understatement. Most significantly, though, I had a hard time with Julia’s cousin Cassidy, who is bizarrely subservient to Julia’s many bizarre demands. Then again, there’s a minor twist later revealing ulterior motives on his part as well, and it barely works.

The bottom line is that Mr. Malcom’s List is a period romance just like countless others, but employing a template that has long proved effective. I can’t deny that I was engaged from start to finish, and found myself modestly charmed by the performances across the board—with the possible exception of Julia, who is insufferably self-involved, and her romantic resolution in the end is arguably the most contrived of all. It says a lot about the rest of the movie that the rest of the movie basically makes up for this. This movie is just another pleasant diversion, and of course there are times when that’s all you’re looking for.

Generally lovely isn’t it?

Overall: B