The meanest thing I could say about this movie is ‘Has extreme Don’t Worry Darling energy’.
I have never seen a movie more desperate to justify itself. It’s trapped in this endless neurosis over what it is- a blockbuster Barbie movie in 2023 by an acclaimed art house director that is fun but also deep but also earnest but also self aware but also but also but also. Every point it raises it brings up a counterpoint to before the audience can, every frame is trying to prove it’s not just product but art. It’s never just Barbie. It’s never confident or even comfortable in its skin. You cannot for a second be immersed in Barbie because it’s not a story so much as a visual dissertation without a central thesis, it’s a student film riffing on the big dogs hoping it’s underdog audacity will carry it but given a budget in the millions. It so desperately wants you to like it, to know it’s in on the joke too.
Everythng is an ouroboros here: an endless loop of argument and counterarguement feeding itself. Isn’t it shitty how the Mattel boardroom is full of men? Ah, but isn’t it cool how Mattel’s acknowledged it with this niche? And it’ll mythologize Barbie’s creator but uh don’t worry she did tax evasion we know that, now let her impart into Barbie the experience of all women. Barbie helps women, Barbie hurts women, Barbie is told to be everything so isn’t she just like women, but it is better to be a creator than the idea, and in the end, hasn’t Barbie helped all these women? Oh uh why is this blonde white Barbie the centerpiece of it all and helping not only her diverse Barbie friends but a Hispanic woman and her daughter? Don’t worry we’ll have the daughter call her a white savior! But don’t worry we’ll have the mom say she’s not! It’s fascinating to watch, honestly. It’s a film that wants to prove to you so so bad that it works but it doesn’t and it knows it doesn’t and it knows you knows. It’s Gerta Gerwig wrestling with taking this job for an hour and a half.
The cast is more than game and able. Margot Robbie is doing her damndest to find the heart and soul in this role, and there’s one scene with an old lady near the end of the first act/beginning of the second that actually works, for just a moment, more than any of the big third act soliloquies or montages with emotional ballads. And as someone who’s seen Blade Runner 2049 and Drive, this is the best Ryan Gosling performance I’ve seen. The man commits and delivers a surprisingly compelling and entertaining antagonist. The movie can’t quite reconcile what he’s done with his ending, or tie it into the themes- is Ken letting go of Barbie and the need to define himself for or against her symbolizing the need for men to do the same, and if so, why play it so lightly and sympathetically?- but that’s not his fault. And the supporting cast are entertaining, but you just can’t have big laughs with a movie that feels like it’s constantly checking in the corner of its eye after every joke to see if you’re laughing, grin stuck in place. It’s not as funny or as smart as it wants to be, and the sad thing is, it feels like it knows that too.
There is some great set design, cinematography, dazzling choreography, popping colors, and some fun high points. But I can’t imagine many kids liking it. And we’ve seen how conservatives have taken this movie. And anyone’s who’s progressed beyond the politics of. Well. A feminist blockbuster Barbie movie will find it cloying or condescending or just incredibly basic. It’s aimed at a very specific crowd who will buy what it’s saying, the liberals who see corporate feminism as progress, who agree that it’s just about a little change sometimes, who are ready for something just a little more complex than a SNL sketch. I don’t regret seeing it, because I was deeply engaged the whole time seeing it struggle at war with itself, in pain for its whole existence. It’s not a boring movie by any means. It wants to say everything before the audience can say it first. It’s the endpoint of The Lego Movie and Enchanted- the corporations interrogating and justifying themselves, and the cracks in this formula are too large to ignore. It wants to be so much, and the attempt is as darkly mesmerizing as a fly thinking it can somehow and someway metamorphize into a butterfly and suffocating and struggling in its makeshift cocoon, but this is one Barbie that fundamentally just cannot break out of its box.
I read the book as this release came nearer, and I thought that while good, it was clearly a ‘first big passion project that grew in scope and theme in the telling’. And that resulted in a charming work, but also one that could be refined and sharpened if given a second go around and seen by experienced eyes. Well, this movie did that and then some. It’s an affecting allegorical fairy tale for our time, one I honestly sorely needed after all that happened today.
If there’s one word to sum it up, it’s unapologetic. There’s a very big reason Disney didn’t take this on, yes, but there’s a whole lot smaller ones too. This is daring in a way their work hasn’t been allowed to be in years, if not a decade or two. A gay romance is one of its centerpieces, but it also tackles the fear of the other hurting so many today, the classism holding so many down, how it’s rooted institutionally, how you can’t just play nice and appease them. Balister did everything right, he played by the rules, he excelled, he gives them chance after chance, but that’s never going to be enough. The system and those behind it will toss you aside because you don’t belong.
Riz Ahmed plays him perfectly, making what could’ve been a stick in the mud such fun to listen to, and displaying his journey from lost and tossed aside golden boy to a man who’s found strength in the truth and most of all, his friend. In conjunction with the most effective set of puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen, you can’t help but feel and root for him. Beck Bennett is always a gem in any ensemble and gets some big laughs. Eugene Lee Yang was a sleeper hit- I didn’t expect a Try Guy to remind me so heavily of Crispin Freeman, and that is high praise. It’s not that he sounds like a discount version of him, but that he has a similar lived in earnestness and genuine personality amidst a theatrical and dramatic performance, somehow grounded and knightly all at once. And Conroy is a risible antagonist, one who has convinced herself her paranoia and prejudices are noble and for the greater good and all the worse for it. She does not consider herself a monster by any means, but an aggrieved martyr doing what must be done, and Conroy makes her real while not sympathetic to anyone but herself.
But the most striking performance of all, of course, is Chloe Grace Mortez as Nimona. She put her heart into this role and you can feel it. She straddles the line of what could’ve been either ‘softened and smoothed so as to lose all edges’ and ‘so obnoxious and bloodthirsty so as to lose empathy’, and makes it look easy, instead conveying a character who’s found her way to survive in a world that turned its back on her first. An inner pain at the heart of her rage, one that’s always hoping that she’ll be proven wrong. Or rather, proven right with what she first saw all those years ago- that people can accept and love something different. But the film also never frames her as in the wrong for pointing that anger where it belongs- at the system that props up what was done to her. Many films would’ve agreed the director was the only problem, but this one asserts that the institute and the wall that enables and created her must also be torn down. Mortez goes hand in hand with immaculate writing and gorgeous animation to craft a character who’s hilarious, heartfelt, and devastating. Nimona in motion is such a striking vibrancy against everything else, bringing a life and beauty and color they don’t see until the end. And it makes it such a gut punch when Nimona has lost hope and that pink is replaced with black and white.
There’s a lot of ways Nimona resonates with today. The Director exclaiming Balister has a weapon is a subtle, brief one that only lasts a minute but hits like a punch to the gut. There’s Nimona defending herself being taken as self evident proof she is a monster. There’s her suicide attempt, where the rampage in the book is a path of vengeance here it’s just a last resort after once again losing everything and being rejected on a fundamental level. All that is one reason Disney wouldn’t take this on. But another is it’s sense of humor, or in acknowledging that yes kids know what blood is and many like it and they can handle it. The movie’s not a bloodbath by any means, but blood is just. There! Gay people are there! This movie, despite Disney, despite the conservative backlash against queer children’s media, is here. Saying you are seen. You are not alone. It’s something I think a lot of people, of any age, needed to hear today, and will need to hear in the future. I know I’m one of them.
Poor Things is very pretty, I’ll give it that much. Colors pop, and the watercolor, blurry sky and the scaling but condensed environments of Lisbon and Alexandria both convey the miasma of Bella’s mind quite well. How the background blurs in our young memories and how we remember all the buildings and places that looked large over us but so rarely the walks to them. Those work for me. So much of the rest of the film doesn’t.
I see what it’s going for- it’s hard not to. A journey of womanhood through the conceit of a child’s brain in a woman’s body, when women are treated as children and property to begin with. But it’s so fucking weird, with that conceit, to devote so much time to sex. Sex is an important part of being human for many people, I’m not denying that. But the attention it gets here throughout compared to brief, paltry scenes of Bella reading, seeking knowledge, having an interest in medical science and surgery is disproportional. Especially when the film wants to play her coming home and following in Godwin’s footstep as a culmination of her journey when it’s a facet of the film that barely gets any play in comparison. Angelica Jade Bastien, whose Variety review you should all read, brings up how in a film ostensibly about a cis woman and her relationship with her body menstruation does not come up once. It’s so telling where the film’s true focus lies.
And yes, sex can be beautiful, and conversely so can sex scenes. But the ones here are done dispassionately yet voyueristically. There’s no interiority, no sensuality, no sense of emotion and character felt through them. Compared to films like The Handmaiden they are sterile in heart if not content. It’s a big swing to go from black and white to color, and I can see sex being the impetus for it, sure, but when it’s done like this I don’t buy it. It’s interesting to me that her first time having sex is portrayed like this, with penetration until the man comes, thrice over, and yet her first time with cunnilingus is off screen. I feel like all the sex in this film is similarly narrow and lifeless.
None of what this film is trying to say is new, but much of it is muddled. It wants to rail against the entitlement of men, how they see women as property, how they want them to be exciting and adventurous but only in service of them. And yet it gives Max no grief at all for falling in love with. A child. Literal child, this is not a metaphor, it’s a child’s brain. And marrying her but refusing to have sex with her until marriage because that would be taking advantage, as if marriage would not be taking advantage and has not been used as the ultimate control. On some level the film condemns this, but only in the opposite direction, as part of Emily leaving Max is her frustration over not having sex. It’s baffling that the film seems to take the viewpoint that we ought to let children consent to sex with adults, that it is part of their development and journey to personhood. The film is similarly forgiving to Godwin, who used a woman’s body in a way she would very likely not have consented to all while the film extols a woman’s choice and ownership of her body.
Everything the film has to say about the nature of man and people, about women’s place in society, about sex work, etc, is rote. Nothing here is new, and nothing is heightened by the core conceit. It’s so surface level. And the cast is game enough. Dafoe is Dafoe and that’s always a good time, but I wouldn’t call this one of his greatest roles. Carmichael, much as I love his standup, just is not working here. Stone and Ruffalo are acting for the back seats, and while that has its moments of charm, it’s too much for most of the runtime. And Stone is just. She’s playing into ableist stereotypes for so much of this performance. The film drops the r slur and we’re just gonna pretend that Stone isn’t doing an insulting caricature at the same time? I don’t even want to delve into all the questions raised by the mental disability angle, others could do that better than me, but it’s another level of thoughtlessness and surface level depth.
The score is similarly cloying and overbearing. It insists on a scene rather than being a part of it. It doesn’t enhance it or complement it, it beats you over the head with how the scene is meant to make you feel. I could enjoy the sound of it in isolation, but as a score it’s distracting more than anything else. It’s a bit surprising to me how much this film has been praised as outside of the production design, I don’t see it. I just don’t. For me, this is as much a misfire as Barbie, if not more. Poor things.
Nope is a movie of two equally great but disparate halves. The first is a harrowing examination of what we do when faced with ‘bad miracles’. Keke Palmer’s effortlessly charming Em wants to get hers, get the fame and money and recognition she and her family have fought for by explaining the terrible unknown. Perea’s Angel just doesn’t want to be left out of something this big. Steven Yuen’s Jupe is haunted by one from his past and looks to wrangle a new one as a way to understand and come to terms with it, give it meaning, And Daniel Kaluuya’s OJ does what black people have always had to do; weather the storm, stare it down, and know when to Nope the fuck out. This first half sets up that while Get Out reckoned with the horrors of the past that reverberate, and Us dealt with the monsters within us, especially the ones that don’t look like we expect, Nope will tackle the horrifically miraculous. The one in a million, can’t be explained but must be lived through natural tragedies.
The second half is a thrilling spectacle, a homage to both classic Spielberg fate like Jaws and old school schlock in the best ways. It plays like a fusion between a monster movie and disaster fare like Twister. It’s a heartening example of what blockbuster films can be with a director who truly has a vision and is allowed to execute it, as opposed to the ‘house style’ of the MCU.
Again, both of these halves are good, great even. And they are of equal quality. But they don’t quite mesh into one complete film like Peele intends. Still, it’s impossible not to recommend. The cast is fantastic. The things Daniel Kaluuya can do with his eyes are still unmatched, and Steven Yuen has a stare that feels nearly as impossible in length as it does masterful in conveying his character. Peele has fantastic shots, the naturalistic design of the monster unsettling while keying in on the core themes of the movie, and it has Keith David! It feels like a nod to one of Peele’s biggest influences, John Carpenter, cause there’s a good amount of overlap in theme and motivation of The Thing and the creature of Nope. There’s two great halves of two different movies that had they been paired with their matching half, could’ve created an amazing one. But it’s still no reason to Nope out of seeing this one.
A very interesting portrayal of the banality of evil. The horror is not in what’s shown, but what isn’t. The compartmentalization, the routine. While gunshots and screams echo and smoke billows, they have their idyllic little life, better than they dreamed. Anything that brings too much attention to the other side of their life is an intrusion, an annoyance, like the mother who can’t stand the flames. The droning score and the bright colors underscore this, banging at the door to be let in and acknowledged and shut out by this family. Most striking of these was Rudolf under a blindingly white sky while a soundscape of death paints the picture, and a close up of the flowers of their happy garden while the ashes of the people they’ve murdered rest in the soil.
The revulsion the film inspires with Rudolf sharing how the only thing he could think about at a party was the logistics of how to gas them all, as if it’s a fun thought experiment and anecdote, is impressive. As is Hedwig’s entitlement towards her idea of a perfect life and her lashing out at the Jewish servants when it’s threatened. Or the eldest son playing a cruel trick on his younger brother, licking him in a greenhouse door and imitating a gas chamber.
It’s all so innocuous to them. Just background noise of their life. The repetition is as droning as the score, leaving you desperate to escape this mindset and terrified of the ways that we too suffer from it.
Man I love every time an action movie comes out that reminds us the genre can have depth and themes and true character work. That there can be style and practical effects and grounded action. In the wave of the MCU this is such a breath of fresh air. The action is slick but the drama and characterization work in tandem with it to create something truly special. It's a film that is inspirational not in spite of the history but because it acknowledges the history and transforms it and finds a way to make it resonate today. It shows the strength of these women and the culture while not shying away from its flaws. These black women are put up on a pedestal and asked- if not demanded- to stop feeling, that it is weak, a dereliction of duty, and the film gradually repudiates that while never denying their strength or more importantly their humanity.
And the cast gamely rises up to what they're given. Davis obviously shines as the centerpiece, putting decades of experience into a performance that is stoic, aching, charismatic, and raw in equal measures. Some of her delivery and expressions, from a wry smirk to a fond and exasperated roll of the eyes, are so good at grounding Nanisca and making her really feel like a person, just one from a different time. And while I had mixed feelings about Underground Railroad, Mbedu was never one of them, and she shines here as well. The things she can do with her eyes alone are captivating. And Boyega is charming while being hard and pragmatic enough to still keep you guessing where he'll fall. But in a cast of greats, Lasana Lynch still stands out. The charisma she has on display here makes me baffled she hasn't led a franchise yet, put her in everything.
This film is a celebration of black women while never dehumanizing them. It lets us be strong and vulnerable, stalwart and hurting, devoted and loving, in equal measure. And it's a tight, fun time to boot.
It wouldn't be accurate to say I grew up alongside Bo Burnham. He's six years older than me. So I've gotten to see him grow, but he was always a step ahead on the road. Then suddenly, in this special, we're side by side, and I feel a horrifying catharsis at being in the same place as him. The thrill and terror of being seen. I want to run back inside and watch him on the outside, going through it with a wry joke. But we're all stuck in this. Stuck inside, and that inside is so much more than just a quarantine. Even though this is probably the quarantine media, it's about everything too.The outside is inside, everything is inside, and yet we've never felt more distant despite going through the same thing. I was left undone. Devastated. Funny Feeling left me weeping. It's just an incredible piece of work that'll stick with me for a long time.
Slick style and a cast brimming with charisma aren't enough to save this film from the hollowness at its core. It doesn't purport to be a true story, but it does say these characters were real people. Why, then, have Lakeith Stanfield play an Afro-Native? Why slim down and lighten up Stagecoach Mary? Why do nothing to actually represent these people? Is it true to Cherokee Bill's story to have a non-Native speak of the Great Spirit and drop some Cherokee as a token? Is it honoring Stagecoach Mary's story if to be the badass love interest of this story she must be rendered unrecognizable? This only exposes further questions. Why use these people at all instead of original characters?
Perhaps it's how thinly these characters are drawn. Buck goes from a plan to keep his town intact to it being just a revenge plot all along. Trudy Smith believes in what he's doing, but it's hardly explained. Reeves is just a super sheriff. And Cuffee is the source of transphobic gay panic jokes. Samuel said in an interview he wanted this to be the Avengers, and like the MCU, this film hopes to coast on the charm of its stars and the past and lore of the characters. You should care about Bill Pickett cause he broke down boundaries in rodeo. You should care about Beckweourth because of his work with the Crow. None of that will be here. You should care about them by their name alone. It lends a certain crassness to the proceedings, the director and cast using real people like action figures.
It's a shadow the film can't escape from. It wants to be daring and bold, to tell black stories so often neglected or ignored. But it misrepresents them in the process, resulting in something that is less tribute and more exploitation. The hardest fall is the film's own.
Nice ambiguity with Sam, think they might have killed off Abdullah too soon, I liked him and now the international Dubai side of things seem cut off with no viewpoint character
Being the first season after the movie, this season's felt like it's had something to prove, to bring on new viewers won from the movies and keep old viewers by showing the spark hasn't died so many seasons in. It's been a dang good run, but this episode in particular stands not just as the best of the season, or the best of the last few years, but one of its best period. It's funny, but more than anything it's overflowing with heart, it capitalizes on over a decade's worth of connection to this family and even minor characters like Gene's music teacher to show how much these characters have grown and how deep their love for each other runs.
Gene showing his music expertise and creativity to save his recital not just for himself but for his favorite teacher. Bob and Linda trying so hard to achieve the impossible. Louise exposing that beating heart and being that vulnerable kid who acts like she doesn't care because it makes things easier not just for her but everyone else too. And Tina seeing through it and having the maturity won over the series to know that some pageant doesn't matter half as much as being there for her sister. It all intertwines in a beautiful musical climax that honestly left me undone. I've been with this family for a decade, and episodes like these make sure I'll stay for decades more. This is an instant Christmas staple.
I love Guillermo and his character development so much, he's the highlight of every episode.
The early arcs might drag slightly, but oh, the four part finale redeems it all.It has everything essential about these characters. Anakin's desperate longing for human connection and for those he holds most dear to be alright, and the rejection and disillusionment he feels from the weight of this war. Obi-Wan swallowing down his doubts and hopes to be the perfect model Jedi, pushing away and distancing himself from his closest friends in the process. Yoda hopeless and raw, wishing for the old days when Ahsoka was a Jedi and the Jedi weren't soldiers, and unable to shake the dread in his soul.
And, of course, the core trio of this season- Ahsoka, Rex, and Maul- shine. Maul's the last physical antagonist of the show but even in this moment he's overshadowed by Sidious. There's this dread to him as he can sense that everything is about to change, that he is always one step behind his master. He's always playing catch up, always surviving instead of thriving. That is his tragedy- a pawn that's outlived his usefulness trying to become a king. A man who thinks vengeance and power will finally give him satisfaction, but the pursuit of these things have only left him alone and hollow. Like Vader himself, it's that tragedy that makes him so compelling to watch, and Witwer perfectly acts every inch of Maul's bitterness and despair and dissatisfaction. Maul hates who he is, what he knows, and he will never be satisfied. He will never be happy. But he has no choice to be what he is, from the very beginning. He never had a chance.
None of them do. Maul is desperate, even willing to team up with his sworn enemy Kenobi to kill Skywalker. This is his last fight against the inevitability of fate, and it is already doomed. Neither of them arrived- they were called to 'rescue' Palpatine from Grevious. Ahsoka came instead. Sidious is about to seize power. Anakin's already killed Dooku, falling further and further. It's too late for Maul to stop his master and too late for Ahsoka to save hers. And yet they fight anyway. Because Ahsoka believes in Anakin so much, she cannot turn against him. She knows this is not the clones' fault, so she cannot kill them. She's left the Jedi Order and has found her own morals, her own way. Rex, meanwhile has come to realize he moves his brothers above all else, but must fight against them. Each of them have their own pathos that makes this enthralling entertainment.
The fight scenes are gorgeous- Ahsoka and Maul's battle being a standout. The beautiful environments, from the shattered throne room to the icy moon the series ends on, will take your breath away. But more than anything else, the ending justifies it all. Each Star Wars movie, even the darkest, end with at least a hint of triumph, or a light flung into the future. Attack of the Clones almost ends on the formation of the clones, a moment Yoda dreads, but the marriage of Anakin and Padame is a reminder that Luke and Lelia are on the way. Empire Strikes Back and Last Jedi both end with the heroes fractured but not broken, ready for round three. And even Revenge of the Sith assures us Luke and Leia will make things right in the end. Animated contemporaries Rebels and Resistance, too, end in triumph.
Not Clone Wars.
Clone Wars is a tragedy. There is no flash forward to better days, there is no hint of the rebellion, or that Ahsoka and Rex will be fine in the end. The last shot of Ahsoka shows her haunted, and the last shot of the show...is Vader, reflected in the helmet of one of the clones he respected so much, and was respected by in turn.A helmet specially decorated in support of Ahsoka, who both Anakin and the 501st adored, a last reminder of Anakin's and the clones' humanity, completely discarded. The ending doesn't care about the Skywalker Saga, about Anakin being redeemed in the end, or Luke rising up, or Rey carrying on their legacy. And that's what makes it great.
The clones were made for this war- pawns from life to death. All to help facilitate Anakin’s fall. For Anakin and his prophecy the clones and so many people from the Jedi to the average man suffered and died in a brutal, grueling war that only led to a brutal and grueling regime. All actors of a play they were never privy to. The show has the conviction to not cushion that blow.It is about the Clone Wars, not what comes after, and the Clone wars was a tragedy without redemption. Nothing will have made this war matter retroactively. The vast majority of people have no idea that a rebellion is forming or that Luke and Leia were born. All the Jedi and clones and civilians we've grown attached to and seen die certainly don't. The Clone Wars pulls back and shows exactly what the Skywalker Saga, what the Chosen One prophecy, has wrought on the people that saga turned its back on- the nobodies. The ordinary. After one horrendous finale, this one- this show- shows what Star Wars could be, and quite possibly never will be again. And I will always love it for that.
At this point, it's settled into the Schur syndrome of all fluff and no bite, all happy endings and no conflicts. But with a cast this talented and characters so endearing, it's fine for a half hour every week.
Something I was really struck by this episode is Laszlo and his slow, organic character development. He's gone from being a selfish prat to the character with the most human connections. From Sean to the volleyball team to Colin Robinson. He's had this warped sense of loyalty and affection that's made him really endearing without losing his edge and hilarity. And it's what makes the big twist of this episode work.
It sure is pretty. And not much else. It is set up set up set up, and I get it, it’s a part 1. But even part 1 movies have to be movies in of themselves. The climax is the limpest one in recent memory. Zendaya literally tells us this is the beginning, in case we forgot the title card.
And again, I get it. This is based off a book from 1965. But the politics… there’s a fatsuit so fatness can represent greed and gluttony. There’s a mystic and duplicitous Asian doctor. Zendaya is an exotic object for the incredibly pale white savior messiah to be entranced by and lust after. The aforementioned climax is pale boy fighting against a growling, vicious, and dark skinned black man. I know, the book is from the 60s. But there are ways to update or confront that. But Villenueve chose to take on this film, and chose to adapt it as is.
What results in a pretty film that hits every beat you’d expect without making a case for what makes Dune different from Star Wars besides BBC nature documentary shots. The actors are good; Isaacs and Mamoa stand out. Isaacs is a great father archetype; I didn’t expect it from him beforehand but then seeing it in action he’s a perfect fit. And Mamoa has a looseness and natural charisma that livens up the proceedings and makes the world more lived in. But they aren’t enough to lift a film that’s everything I felt about Blade Runner 2049 amplified. All visual, no heart.
And they wasted my man Bautista! I’m sure he’d get more in sequels, but those might not happen! I was waiting the whole time for him to steal a scene and got nothing! He didn’t even wear tiny glasses! This film is lucky it didn’t get zero stars from me.
After the steady decline in the quality of the 'anthology' episodes of last season, it's easy to forget that for all the misses, when this show gets high concept and hits, it really hits. A masterful mockumentary in just 37 minutes, it's somehow both emotional and comedic at once. The way it both ratchets up the fraught tension of Thomas while at the same time hammering in his resemblance to Goofy until both hit a glorious crescendo just left me dying. But it's also a commentary on the black creative, on feeling the outsider, on how we project 'blackest movie ever' on a movie-one I love!- by a bunch of white people and afford actual black stories much less grace and visibility. It's an outrageous premise delivered so sharply and so concisely that it says so much in a short time. And the cast... they made a broken Goofy laugh both haunting and comedic by delivering it with every ounce of emotion they had. Just an excellent episode all around
Is this the new male feminist style. Instead of Joss Whedon, Alex Garland. White men making the most surface level analysis and thinking they’re relevant and deep and an ally. Like god what the most insufferable movie. The attempts at ‘symbolism’. Did you notice the night sky looks like a vagina? The fucking matryoshka doll climax. And the awful CGI. Just. God. The title is apt cause this is a white man after taking his first, most surface level feminism course. Failing to find any of the intricacies abs specificities of the patriarchy and misogyny, resorting to primal ‘original sin’ shit instead of the societal roots, and completely missing the racial politics of the black man existing only as an abuser for the white woman victim. A disastrous film.
Listen. My one surefire weakness is giving Louise a plot where she cares about something, where she’s vulnerable. I’ve cried over the movie because of this, and this is the second time I cried this season because of it after the Christmas episode. In the early seasons, Tina was the most dynamic character in part because they were still figuring her out, and so she grew from an awkward completely socially inept neigh hermit to a confident weirdo who’s found her niche and is unabashedly herself and upfront about what she’s into. She still has struggles and anxieties, but it’s often filtered now into frustrated or proud rebellion about what’s trying to hold her back, like with Tammy’s show, and along the way she genuinely grew into the insightful older sibling with advice. Still great stories with her, but she’s much more set than she once was.
Louise was from the beginning the character the writers were most excited about, first as just the funniest character, the agent of chaos, the shock value fountain, the most unique and distinctive draw in a show still trying to figure itself out. And as it did, it’s like they realized, ‘Okay, Louise can still be that, but she can be more too. We don’t want her to fall by the wayside or be ill fitting with the reputation we’ve developed as a show for weirdos, a show with heart. We want her to embody that just like she embodied our wild start.’
And we got Kuchi Kopi. We got her easy bonds with Bob and Gene, and the hard fought ones with Linda and Tina. We got Rudy, we got Jessica. We got her attachment to her ears in the movie and how it ties her to the grandmother she never knew. We got how she can downplay herself for the sake of the rest of the family and to protect herself in this season’s Christmas.
And now we got this, a look into her anxieties and insecurity. So much of her actions in general are a desperate need to be seen and heard. Nothing gets to her like being dismissed for being ‘just a kid’, like being overlooked, like the possibility of a family member drifting away from her. Or the concept of her personal space or autonomy being invaded.
Part of what makes Louise such a unique character when it comes to kids is what makes her ‘bratty’ is framed as cool, endearing, valid. In a world where children are often reduced to being parental property, to having wants wantonly ignored, to have agency dismissed, Louise fights for hers and never gives in, and the show never tries to strip her of that.
But she is still a kid, and a girl at that. And kids have worries, and girls unfortunately deal with being overlooked for the loudest, most condescending, dismissive, and yes, male voices in the room.
I forgot how obnoxious Wayne can be, and I was even worried it might be too much, but he played his role perfectly. He’s not the wild absurdity of Millie or the personal animosity of Logan, he’s just a jerk. An annoying personification of that dismissive force in a way that Louise can’t really strike out outrageously in turn like she can with the other two.
He wiggles into her head and makes her feel stupid for caring, and then she feels stupid for feeling stupid for caring, and her fears of being overlooked start to feel like they’re becoming a reality.
Her frustrations and outbursts are so often played for humor and taken to wild extremes as she starts plotting retribution and vengeance, setting up the big laugh or catharsis. But here, as she shouts in frustration looking over her pages of spy stories or on Mother’s Day when faced with a block, it’s played like just a kid trying to disguise her frustration at herself and having trouble expressing what’s really wrong, putting up her walls. And just like the Christmas episode, she tries to downplay it and put her mom first, out of love for her and out of dismissal of herself as not as important or as not worth the hassle. If she gives up on herself first, it won’t matter if anyone else does, and so when things seem truly doomed to fail that is often her first line of defense, like when they were being buried alive.
John Roberts might deliver his best dramatic performance as Linda yet. In a role that so often demands hammy exuberance and over the top, in your face personality- just see last week’s episode- this episode asks him to underplay it for once. His delivery has never been so soft, so caring, so selfless. It’s helped by subtle expressions and great framing- Linda’s face in bed overhearing Louise about to throw in the towel is a key example. It’s even more rewarding seeing this after their first big episode together, all those years ago in Mother Daughter Laser Razor, and how much trouble they had connecting. And now Linda just gets her. She channels it in another direction, but she has that same need and demand to be heard.
It all crescendoes into Louise’s finish for her paper, and she’s never sounded more like a child baring her heart and hoping it’s not stepped on, hoping she’s understood. Kristen Schaal has been this character for so long and is such a big part of her success and you can feel the love she has for this role as she speaks, just as you can feel the writers’ affection for her, and how they’re speaking their own experiences through a character that somehow against all odds became the one they’d use most often for that, even over Tina’s burgeoning sense of self and confidence.
Right down to the tender credits, this is an episode that will stick with me and remind me why I love this show, this family, and most of all, Louise Belcher, who along 13 seasons and over a decade of knowing her has become one of my favorite characters in just about anything. Here’s hoping for a decade more.
With the circumstances given, they do amazing with the time they have, making space for everyone’s arcs and even some fun returns. Is it a little rushed? Yes, but I can’t hold that against the media itself here. Rather I judge it on how they still got me to tear up, still found room for Willow’s struggles, for Hunter’s trauma, and some great visuals. That is a feat worth admiring.
Very very pretty, and not much else. A succession of sentimental monologues and messages without much build up, but it's a children's story. Can't fault it too much for telling kids they are loved and to be kind and such, however blunt or clumsy.
I love this family. Watching them for over a decade, this movie is a culmination of their offbeat and earnest, weird hearts. The passion and love for this show is in every frame. They go all out to make this earn its moviedom. The lighting and the animation are brisk and fluid, and the musical numbers get you moving from the lovingly drawn dances as much as their catchiness. And they’re very catchy.
And while every cast member gets their chance to shine, this is Louise’s movie, and it’s 100% the right call. She was the breakout star that kept the show going in its rougher beginnings as the spirit of chaos. But through the years, she became the show’s soul, period. Wild, mischievous, but at its core a zest for life. She has the strongest arc, one that draws you in and gets you rooting for her, and a lot of that is due to Kristen Schaal. She’s a voice acting all star, of course, from Mabel Pines to Sarah Lynn, and a comedy ace in live action. But she’s played Louise the longest out of all her roles, and she’s gotten to see her grow and her material change from just that arbiter of conflict and chaos to the little girl with a whole lotta heart, undying loyalty, and more insecurity than she wants anyone to know. Schaal nails all of her facets here, and the payoff for the show’s longest, decade long mystery- why the hat?- genuinely got me teared up.
I laughed, I cried, I had songs stuck in my head, and I know I’ll come back to this movie as much as I’ve come back to the show that spawned it. What more could you ask for?
Spielberg can still make magic with a camera. The cinematography, the lighting… many shots evoked the golden age of cinema, bathing the actors in light that makes them shine or shimmer, conveying emotion as well as their acting does. And the cast, for the most part, are excellent. Zegler is a breakout. DeBose lives up to an intimidating legacy with aplomb, radiant and charming in her highest moments and heartwrenching and righteous at her lowest. Speaking of that legacy, Rita Moreno is a legend who brought me to tears; she takes a song that felt simplistic and sappy and infuses it with decades of hard won experience and worn down hope. And Alvarez and Rivera infuse what were stereotypical roles with humanity.
So much care was taken to update this story. Anita gets a little more closure. The Sharks get more screen time. Class and race are put into sharper focus. And the choreography invokes the original while being fresh. Most of the music and lyrics still don’t stand out for me, but they’re working with what they have. And sequences like the America number elevate them. Most of all, I appreciate the attempt to represent Latinos so fully. In The Heights excluded the darker skinned; this gives them their due. The biggest slight against the film is Elgort. I appreciate the attempt to give Tony more depth and edge, something he lacked in the original. But he lacks the conviction of the other actors, and his crimes make the romance with Maria even more awkward and unhealthy than it originally comes off as. He feels almost predatory, and Bernardo nails him dead-on when he says it feels like he’s using Maria to feel new and better; she’s a fixation, a symbol.
Still, West Side Story is an event, and a great one at that, taking a story with flaws and sanding them out to make it one I enjoy much more.
Just balls to the wall fun. A reminder of how fun superhero movies can be when a director can have actual control, do their thing, and not worry about continuity or studio branding. I hollered at Starro, teared up over some rats, laughed at Cena, and I'll watch and enjoy Elba in anything. Robbie gets some good stuff here, even if it's not Birds of Prey level. With a stellar cast, creative fight scenes, and an eye for entertainment, it's a nice remedy for the same-y superhero movies we've been stuck with.
I love how in the end you could say this is as much Johanna’s show as it is Hilda’s, and this was a wonderful conclusion to their story
A show so good and singular it redefines what Star Wars can be. How can we accept riskless mediocrity after this? After such rich, topical themes, actors given something real to chew on, tight writing, practical living sets, tight scripts. Simply phenomenal.
It’s Citizen Kane. What can I say? The thing is, a movie like Psycho was just as influential, but with its twists exposed, it’s tricks copied, and our understanding of mental illness progressed, much of it doesn’t stand up. It’s more interesting as a case study than as a film in its own right. Citizen Kane has the same legacy and influence, but still stands tall.
It’s no wonder Hearst hated this movie. It’s no petty, lazy hit piece. It’s an incisive critique of an American megalomania that Hearst was just one symptom of. It looks at Hearst and men like him as men: sad, lonely, empty men wanting something they can never give themselves or truly accept from others. Welles kills the role. The clapping scene has been oft parodied, and yet it’s lost none of its power. Welles tries to bend the room to his will with his will alone, defiant and petulant in equal measure. His violent meltdown is a scene that’s been followed by many like it, and it’s still enthralling. Even at his youngest and most charming, Welles never loses sight of that unsettling hollowness at Kane’s core. And the rest of the cast follow his lead.
The fade ins and outs are subtle and graceful. The lighting is breathtaking; the room darkening around Susan as she looks off into old memories was one moment that stood out. The set design is immaculate; Kane’s collection at the end feels like an eerie mirror of the city he tried to control from above. It’s sprawling and yet so sparse, so empty. The film breathes ambition and excels confidence, an assurance in what it’s trying to do. It’s a jigsaw puzzle that fits so perfectly, and it doesn’t matter if you already know what Rosebud is. As Thompson says, it’s just one piece of one man. But the whole picture is one you can’t miss.
It's Bob's Burgers. Ten seasons in, you know what you're in for: a pleasant and delightful time with a bunch of weirdos.
You know fourteen seasons in I wouldn’t have guessed Linda and Louise would be my favorite dynamic, but honestly they’re a strong contender. Louise and Bob are obviously excellent too and home to many a heartwarming moment, but Louise and Linda are catching up. And what make them so rewarding is that it’s changed over time. Bob was always Louise’s favorite, and she and Linda had trouble connecting. What they have now is hard won over the course of the entire show, and now it’s so clear that so much of Louise’s daring nature, unabashed attitude, and unwavering sense of confidence and self comes from Linda. And seeing them vibe is so much fun. Linda is Louise after adulthood has given her (what even Linda would often consider boring) sense and wisdom, but all that means is she’ll say things that’d come out of Louise’s mouth like ‘let’s just hit them over the head with a heavy object’ and the only difference is she’ll reluctantly take it back.
It makes for a funny episode, but also one with a nice emotional throughline of Linda wanting to build upon and maintain this bond. That anxiety is deeply sympathetic, and so is Louise’s sense of betrayal at finding out what she thought was a partnership being her mother indulging her. This matters to Louise too, and nothing riles or hurts her more than being treated like ‘just’ something- just a kid, just a girl- instead of as Louise. And again they meet each other halfway. Linda believes in Louise’s convictions and lets her go after the jellyfish, and Louise indulges in both her mother’s and her own hidden but well established deep sentimentality for her family by hanging up seventeen whole dollars as a beloved memorial of something cool she did with her mom. It just hits for me. It pays off of 14 years of investment in the two’s relationship.
Also rewarding is the continued acknowledgement of the movie, for devoted fans. The B plot is just plain fun and more of Bob’s Burgers loving passionate and quirky weirdos. The pipe sequence is a surprisingly affecting capper to it all, and the show is unashamedly gleeful about each performance. It’s infectious, especially from Bob and Teddy. And to top it all off, a bit of Fischoder with killer delivery and lines. What more could you want from a Bob’s Burgers episode?
I remember what Rob Zacny said about the Clone Wars and it’s anachronic order on A More Civilized Age. How it was Arthurian, eternal and forever. Adventure Time has become much the same. Finn is dead. Finn is reincarnating. Finn is adventuring. Finn had adventured. He will always be adventuring. He’s 12. He’s 17. He’s a man. He’s all of these things, whenever the story needs him to be. It’s not about the chronology anymore. It’s about what what the storytellers need, what they can express by choosing what point in time they want to tell the story in.
Despite this episode featuring Finn so heavily, it’s never been more clear that Adventure Time is more than Finn and Jake. Finn’s made it to a archetypal status, in the midst of his adventures taking place in the unlimited story potential between Come Along With Me and Together Again, like the legendary checkpoints in Arthur’s legend like the pulling of the sword or his final rest. He’s here as a shorthand to convey the passage of time and facilitate the journey of the center of this story, Simon.
In much the same way, even Marceline and Bubblegum, my favorite characters in the AT canon, fill this role. They’re in love, moving forward, luxuriating in each other after Obsidian, and I was grinning the whole time even as it made Simon ruminate on his loneliness and standstill. Their stories have been told, at least for now, until the storyteller finds use of them again. Simon is the vehicle now.
Adventure Time has grown so much from its beginnings as Pendleton Ward’s impulsive and wild adventure of the week silly hijinks. Nowadays he’s a consultant at best, mostly lending his voice to LSP and letting Muto and the rest run free. What must Adventure Time mean to them, after so long with it, after ending after ending it keeps coming back? Simon as a tool for that works much more for me than Fionna’s ennui, at least so far. AT was Muto’s first project at 28- over a decade later, in his 40s, here he still is. I imagine it’s much the same for the rest of the returning crew. Do you still have a place in something that was so well known for being unrestrained, wildly ambitious, fresh, and wild? Do you want to? Do you miss it, even amongst the resentment towards it being all you’re known for?
It’s a very thoughtful and intriguing plot line, and these first two episodes set a framework that, despite my initial hesitation towards this miniseries, has undeniably drawn me in.
Look. You cannot judge a movie for what you want it to be. You have to take it as it is, and examine how well it achieves what it wanted. Strays does exactly what it sets out to do. I wasn’t rolling with laughter, but it got the occasional chuckle. It was pleasant.
Jamie Foxx has that Jamie Foxx charisma to the extent that yes, I was a little emotionally affected by this movie. Not even tearing up levels, by any stretch, but it was something! Forte elevates rote material to something entertaining while being a detestable scumbag. Everyone in the cast showed up to do what they were paid for. Like, is it a little copaganda? Sure, but what? Am I gonna dock points off of fucking Strays for that? Is Strays the biggest thing reinforcing the police? Could Strays have been what toppled it all if they only had balls as big as their big ball dog? It’s fucking Strays! You get exactly what you expect and exactly what they set out to do.
And that’s why it gets the same rating Barbie did from me, a movie that set out to do so many ambitious things and achieved very little. I guess that evens out the end? You can’t really put my ratings on an equivalent scale like that but it was a very funny realization
