The Bikeriders
The Bikeriders is notable not because of anything in the story but because of the approach to acting embraced by lead actors Tom Hardy and Austin Butler, who have consciously attempted to recreate the essences of Marlon Brando and James Dean in their performances. For those who might wonder what film critics mean when they say that an actor "channels" the work of a previous performer, one need look no further than this film for an explanation. Unfortunately, the scattershot narrative, which moves along a bumpy and uneven trajectory, doesn't represent the greatest showcase for this sort of exercise. Watching The Bikeriders, I kept hoping it would get better but it never really does. There are moments when it ratchets things up but it almost immediately falls back, unable to sustain the momentum.

The Bikeriders takes its inspiration from Danny Lyons' book of the same name, with Jeff Nichols using the framing device of Lyons (Mike Faist) interviewing one subject, Kathy Bauer (Jodie Comer), at different times during her involvement. Nichols' goals are expansive: he wants to depict the motorcycle culture of the '60s and show how it changed as it moved into the '70s while simultaneously giving life to the three protagonists: Kathy; her handsome, brooding husband, Benny (Butler); and the leader of the Chicago Vandals Biker Club, Johnny (Hardy). He is only partially successful on all counts. The awkward structure of intercutting action with faux interview segments doesn't help.

A central problem with The Bikeriders relates to using Kathy as the viewer's entry-point into the world of the Vandals. Not only is she a weak character but Jodie Comer is miscast (her performance is adequate but the awful accent is a distraction). The screenplay wants to develop a love triangle of sorts among Kathy, Benny, and Johnny. The husband-wife relationship never percolates, leaving behind the tepid bromance between Benny and his mentor.

The story chronicles, with middling effectiveness, the shift in the biker culture that occurred when angry, disillusioned Vietnam War vets started joining, swelling the numbers but also bringing along a dark element. Like the mob during roughly the same timeframe, drugs and violence became dominant factors. "Clubs" became "gangs." The story spans a little under a decade, from about 1965 until 1973. Kathy meets Benny at a bar; five weeks after their first encounter, they are married. From the beginning, Benny is pulled in two directions. Kathy wants him to give up biking - a desire that is heightened after a violent confrontation in which he nearly loses a foot - while Johnny wants to groom the younger man as a successor. As the years pass, we meet other members of the Vandals (none of whom are developed), including mechanic Cal (Boyd Holbrook); Zipco (Michael Shannon), who is so unstable that he was deemed unsuitable to join the army; the insect-chomping Cockroach (Emory Cohen), who dreams of becoming a motorcycle policeman; and Funny Sonny (Norman Reedus), a California transplant who sticks around because he likes the vibe. There's occasional violence, a few parties, and a growing sense that the young guns are taking over by any means necessary.

Nichols nails the era and brings along the cinematic style of the late-'60s/early-'70s to emphasize the time period. The movie has some great moments. One, which bookends the first act and has Benny standing up to a couple of aggressive bar patrons, is shocking and graphic. Another, which borrows the stark, no-frills approach that Martin Scorsese used in Goodfellas to show the murder of Joe Pesci's character, eliminates sentimentality from one particular death.

The thing that fascinated me the most about The Bikeriders was watching Hardy attempting to resurrect Brando and Butler doing a decent Dean impersonation. Although both actors had their greatest successes during the 1950s, it's not hard to imagine them doing this sort of movie had circumstances been different. I still wonder, however, why an actor of Michael Shannon's stature, agreed to appear in such a stripped-down role. Shannon has one good scene but spends the rest of the film lounging around in the background.

It's strange that such an oddball movie would get a wide release during the heart of the summer season. This is at best an autumn film, if not something better suited to one of the dumping months. I'm uncertain who the intended audience is (members of the Hardy or Butler fan clubs?) and it's hard to fathom why The Bikeriders didn't take the fast lane to streaming, which is where one assumes it will end up a few weeks after its theatrical debut. It's a passable production with some interesting performances but the bumpy screenplay and uneven pacing keep the audience at arm's-length and limit the effectiveness of the narrative.

© 2024 James Berardinelli

Inside Out 2
Inside Out 2 is about the best one could hope from for a sequel to a movie whose main selling point was its unconventional perspective. The original Inside Out worked brilliantly because of its freshness but that quality is diminished in the follow-up. When it was released, Inside Out seemed like a one-and-done deal and, arguably, that should have been the case. But with Disney desperately strip-mining familiar titles in its own (and Pixar's) catalogue, Inside Out had the dual benefit of recognizability and profitability.

For a film that exists primarily to bolster Disney's flagging box office performance, Inside Out 2 does a lot of things right. The story time-jumps ahead by two years to when the main character, Riley (with Kensington Tallman replacing original voice actress Kaitlyn Dias), has graduated into her teens and is now dealing with the emotional and hormonal ups-and-downs of puberty. The movie leans into two defining aspects of these years: the anxiety of navigating an ever-shifting social dynamic and the desperate need for acceptance. It's all about belonging. For Riley, that means making decisions about turning her back on her long-time best friends, Grace (Grace Lu) and Bree (Sumayyah Nuriddin-Green), in order to hang with a group of cool, older kids, led by high school hockey star Valentina (Lilimar). The coming-of-age story is familiar in general sort of way but, as with its predecessor, Inside Out 2 advances the narrative both in a conventional fashion and by delving into Riley's brain and following the antics and actions of her anthropomorphized emotions.

In the original film, there were five of these: Joy (Amy Poehler), Anger (Lewis Black), Fear (Tony Hale, replacing Bill Hader), Disgust (Liza Lapira, replacing Mindy Kaling), and Sadness (Phyllis Smith). But, with the onset of puberty, four newcomers enter the control booth: Anxiety (Maya Hawke), Envy (Ayo Edebiri), Ennui (Adele Exarchopoulos), and Embarrassment (Paul Walter Hauser). Anxiety has a Type-A personality and immediately clashes with Joy. Acting from a belief that to have a happy, productive future, Riley must jettison most of the past, she exiles Joy, Anger, Fear, Disgust, and Sadness to the far side of Riley's brain while remaking the girl as she sees fit. Much of the movie follows the attempts of the original group to return to the control booth and prevent Anxiety from wrecking Riley's life.

While Inside Out 2 explores a number of salient aspects about how a person's emotional well-being changes with the onset of adolescence, the road trip undertaken by the emotions is not only a retread of parts of the first film's story but also feels like a way to pad out the running length. While we're interested in Riley's story, as familiar as it may be to fans of the teenage/high school dramedy genre, the antics of the emotions prove to be less engaging than in the first film, although creating Anxiety as a foil for Joy makes for an edgy dynamic.

There are some fun moments as the original five explore parts of Riley's brain, including an encounter with a cartoon show star and his magic pouch and a joke involving the heroic star of Riley's favorite video game. But the movie assiduously avoids any subject that could lead to even the most oblique reference to sex. (As we all know, sex does not exist in Disney movies.) It's said that teenage girls think about sex almost as often as teenage boys so it feels disingenuous to block out this aspect of human development. Apparently in an original story treatment, one of the new emotions was supposed to be "Passion" and another "Love," but those were at some point changed to "Envy" and "Ennui." There are ways to handle this aspect of puberty without becoming graphic or exploitative. Inside Out 2 doesn't even try to do so.

This is a rare instance when the visuals of a Pixar film fail to "wow!" There's nothing wrong with the animation in Inside Out 2. It's workmanlike but not special. The innovative approach of using different looks for the inside and outside environments was pioneered in the first film and little (if anything) has been done to change or improve it. The music is mostly forgettable, except on those occasions when the score hearkens back to Michael Giacchino's themes from Inside Out.

When Inside Out 2 went into pre-production in 2021, it was under consideration as a direct-to-Disney+ release. Cost-containing measures are evident in both the cast and crew. A first-time director, Kelsey Mann (whose has previously worked a variety of jobs on other Disney productions) has replaced veteran Pete Docter (who retains a producer credit). High profile composer Michael Giacchino has been bypassed in favor of the less well-known Andrea Datzman, who is making her feature debut. Actors Bill Hader and Mindy Kaling dropped out when Disney wouldn't meet their salary demands. Nevertheless, after seeing the final product and crunching the numbers, Disney decided that a theatrical release would be beneficial to the bottom line. Although Inside Out 2 is good enough to warrant a trip to the theater, especially for parents desperate for family-friendly entertainment, this isn't one of 2024's big-screen-must-sees. It will work as well on a smaller screen. It's solid, middle-of-the-road Pixar, not quite as good as some of their better sequels but superior to the Cars follow-ups.

© 2024 James Berardinelli

Bad Boys Ride or Die
I'm not sure what more I can say about Bad Boys: Ride or Die, the fourth installment in the over-the-hill franchise, that I haven't written in reviews of the previous films. Unsurprisingly, considering it has the same directors as the third Bad Boys, 2020's Bad Boys for Life, Ride or Die is more like its immediate predecessor than the two Michael Bay-helmed entries of the series. At best, it can be considered as an adequate thriller/comedy that offers plenty of generic action to go along with a dollop of hit-and-miss humor. It's as straightforward and uninspired an entry into the genre as one might reasonably expect but anyone claiming to have enjoyed the previous three movies will find things to like about this one.

By the time most franchises reach #4, the production is more about meeting audience expectations than doing anything new or interesting. Consequently, Ride or Die doesn't attempt to evolve or shift the central relationship between mismatched buddy cops Mike Lowrey (Will Smith) and Marcus Burnett (Martin Lawrence) nor does it substantially rock the boat, keeping the basic framework in place for future sequels should the studio order them. The movie is in many ways a reworking of its predecessor, with directors Adil & Billall using the same style they employed four years ago while relying on similar plot points.

The movie opens with Marcus collapsing from a heart attack at the wedding of Mike and his new bride, Christine (Melanie Liburd). After surviving the ordeal, Marcus experiences a manic episode in which he becomes convinced of his own invincibility. This results in instances of recklessness during the next case he and his partner work on: looking into whether their dead former boss, Captain Howard (Joe Pantoliano), has been set-up posthumously to disguise the identity of a mole. Soon, they become targets of the brooding bad guy, James McGrath (Eric Dane), who is determined to have them killed...but only after implicating them in Howard's alleged corruption scheme. To clear the late captain's name, they turn to the only person who can provide an eyewitness identification of McGrath: Mike's incarcerated son, Armando Aretas (Jacob Scipio), who becomes another target once the nature of his information is revealed. Framed and with a price on their heads, Mike, Marcus, and Armando go on the run. Their only allies are two police colleagues, Dorn (Alexander Ludwig) and Kelly (Vanessa Hudgens), who refuse to buy-into the storyline that their friends have gone bad.

Adil & Billall are competent action directors. There's nothing special about their approach and some of their stylistic choices (like using a first-person shooter perspective for certain scenes) don't work, but they're more-than-capable heirs to Bay (who graces the production with an in-your-face cameo). By now, Martin Lawrence's schtick as Marcus has worn a bit thin but he still delivers a laugh or two; the best overall gag involves Reba McEntire. Will Smith seems unchanged by "the slap" - he's still a charismatic performer with impeccable comedic timing and is in sufficiently good shape to pull off an action role at age 55. One wonders whether a scene in which he is slapped across the face several times by Lawrence is intended to be a reference to Smith's infamous Oscar outburst.

Ride or Die makes the unfortunate choice to incorporate some dramatic beats into the narrative. These uniformly fail. That's partly because we understand these characters as much as they need to be understood and also because the "serious" moments are horribly written. Marcus' invincibility complex is played entirely for laughs. A subplot involving Mike experiencing panic attacks comes and goes before being dropped entirely. And Mike's new wife has little purpose beyond providing the screenplay with a convenient hostage. The filmmakers recognize that no one goes to a Bad Boys movie for character development and interaction (beyond the expected interplay between the leads), so they don't expend any effort in this area.

I have given three of the four Bad Boys movies a two-star (out of four) rating, indicating that perhaps this is the ceiling for the franchise as it currently exists. It's cinematic fast-food but not of the delicious, addictive variety. It's a little overcooked and has gone cold - still edible but by no means satisfying. That's the way it often is with obligatory sequels and only the box office performance of this one will decide whether we'll be subjected to another.

© 2024 James Berardinelli

The Watchers
The Watchers, the feature debut of director Ishana Night Shyamalan, has the goods to assemble a compelling trailer. Sadly, it lacks the goods to make a compelling movie. With an uneven tone, a poorly constructed narrative, cheesy dialogue, stilted acting, and a lack of genuine scares, the movie fails on almost every level as a horror/mystery combo. The only thing it has going for it is that Shyamalan does a good job fashioning a sense of the ominous...but it's in service of a production that needs a lot more than that.

The story, based on a novel by A.M. Shine, transpires in a secluded forest in Ireland where a group of four people - Madeline (Olwen Fouere), Ciara (Georgina Campbell), Daniel (Oliver Finnegan), and John (Alistair Brammer) - are holed up in a building referred to as "The Coop." In a prologue, John attempts flight but is tracked down by inhuman creatures, later identified as "The Watchers," that inhabit the forest. Because the monsters only come out at night, the humans have a degree of freedom when the sun is above the horizon, but the edges of the forest are too far away to be reached in a day's travel so their only hope is to return to The Coop at night. They follow a series of rules designed to keep them alive. One of the walls of The Coop is a one-way window: a mirror for those on the inside and a transparent pane from the outside, allowing The Watchers to engage in a voyeuristic study of those trapped in their territory.

Shortly after John's disappearance, Mina (Dakota Fanning) arrives. An American living in Ireland with a tragic backstory (told via flashbacks), she is transporting an expensive parrot when her car breaks down in the forest near The Coop. The residents allow her to join them in the shelter and explain the situation. But Mina refuses to believe that escape is impossible and her determination to find a way out creates friction with the others and raises the possibility that The Watchers may take an action beyond observing.

One of the most immediate problems with the film, and the one that hurts the viewer's ability to become immersed in the movie's reality, is character presentation. Mina represents the audience's surrogate and, although I generally like Dakota Fanning as an actress, her performance here is stiff and stilted. Her dialogue is awkward, sounding more written than natural. The initial setup seems intriguing but, as is often the case with supernatural-type mysteries, the more we learn about the underlying truth, the more disappointing things become. It's a director's job to make even the most outlandish situations credible; that's something at which Shyamalan proves unsuited.

Shyamalan is the daughter of M. Night (he has a producer credit) and, although she is listed as the sole screenwriter, the movie feels like it came out of her father's shop. In fact, the setup - an isolated building in the middle of a forest where creepy things are happening - is similar (arguably too similar) to M. Night's 2023 feature, Knock at the Cabin. The Watchers goes even further off the tracks than that one, however. The final act, which feels more like an epilogue than an organic extension of the main story, is forced and disjointed.

The Watchers is hamstrung on three separate occasions by exposition-laden sequences (one of which gives John Lynch the entirety of his screen time) that are necessary to resolve plot points and clarify mysteries. Unfortunately, they also bring the movie to a complete halt as they unfold. When the twist arrives (a seemingly mandatory element of any film made by a Shyamalan), it is neither surprising nor unexpected. The ending, in addition to being anticlimactic, is unsatisfying.

While sitting in a theater as the movie unspooled, I couldn't help wonder whether the younger Shyamalan might be better served by blazing her own path rather than following in her father's footsteps. M. Night's time as a filmmaker has been erratic, with some big highs and deep lows. It's unfortunate to see Ishana's career get off to such an unpromising start. Ironically for something titled The Watchers, this production lacks the basic quality of watchability.

© 2024 James Berardinelli

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga
Fans of George Miller's Mad Max world, which has now reached its fifth installment, can relax: despite Max's absence from Furiosa, the aesthetic hasn't changed. The look, feel, and sound of Fury Road is evident throughout this spin-off/prequel. In fact, if there's a complaint to be voiced, it's that Furiosa is almost too much like Fury Road to differentiate the two. While all the Mad Max movies (except perhaps the first) have relied more on stunts and action than narrative cohesiveness, Furiosa takes this to a new level. The story is almost irrelevant, especially since we know where it's going. We get enough details to flesh out the title character's backstory but this is more about enjoying and experiencing action set pieces than following Furiosa's journey. (One side benefit is that watching Furiosa makes Fury Road a more complete movie.)

Initially, Miller toyed with bringing back Charlize Theron and using de-aging technology on her, but he eventually decided that approach would be too computer-intensive; it was easier and more practical to recast the role (much as with Fury Road when Mel Gibson was at least 25 years too old to play Max). Throughout Furiosa, three actors play the part: Alyla Browne is Furiosa as a girl (this covers about 40% of the running time), Anya Taylor-Joy is Furiosa as a young woman, and Theron shows up in scenes from Fury Road during the end credits. A few other actors from Fury Road are back: John Howard as The People Eater, Angus Sampson as The Organic Mechanic, Nathan Jones as Rictus Erectus, and Josh Helman as Scrotus. Lachy Hulme takes over the role of Immortan Joe, Fury Road's chief villain, following the 2020 death of the character's originator, Hugh Keays-Byrne. A blink-and-you'll-miss-it Max cameo is provided by Jacob Tomuri, Tom Hardy's stunt-double in Fury Road.

Narratively, Furiosa is structured similarly to the first Mad Max: it starts out in seemingly placid circumstances then quickly gets really dark and turns into a revenge story. A young Furiosa is kidnapped by bandits and taken to meet Dr. Dementus (Chris Hemsworth), who is in the process of building a large army of thuggish followers. Dementus wants to learn the location of the secret habitat where Furiosa was raised but she won't talk. When her mother, Mary Jo Bassa (Charlee Fraser), is captured in a rescue attempt gone awry, the young girl must watch as Dementus orders Mary Jo's execution. Furiosa then becomes a bargaining chip between Dementus and another Wasteland warlord, Immortan Joe. She grows up in the Citadel pretending to be a boy before showing her mettle while working alongside Pretorian Jack (Tom Burke), a notorious caravan driver who exchanges water for gas and/or bullets. She never loses sight of her two goals, however: killing Dementus and returning home to somewhere that's green.

As is typical of a Mad Max film, Furiosa is mostly vehicle-related chase scenes punctuated by occasional downtimes. Exposition is relegated only to what's necessary to keep the story moving. Some of the set pieces are astounding but the movie feels overlong and suffers from an anticlimactic final 30 minutes. Although the central conflict is resolved, there's surprisingly little tension, due in large part to our recognition that Furiosa has to survive to become the woman we saw in Fury Road. In many ways, what should be the film's pinnacle feels like a bit of a letdown.

Although Anya Taylor-Joy is a fitting successor (or should that be precursor?) to Charlize Theron, the actress who impressed me the most was Alyla Browne, whose spunky portrayal of the child Furiosa captivates. Chris Hemsworth, the production's biggest name, plays against type as the heinous Dementus, who sometimes seems sentimental and kind-hearted until he does something unforgivable. For this portrayal, it's fair to wonder whether Hemsworth hearkened back to his work as "Fat Thor" in the two most recent Avengers movies. There's a little of that in Dementus, albeit curdled and darkened.

Although Miller uses CGI, he relies primarily on stunt work for the chases and fights. The Fall Guy may be 2024's most outward Valentine to the stunt industry, but Furiosa is a more accomplished production when it comes to their involvement. Both Hemsworth and Taylor-Joy do some of their own stunts, helping to maintain the illusion. Furiosa is also noteworthy for its use of sound. The throbbing, seat-rattling sound mix, which incorporates Tom Holkenborg's discordant score, is reason enough to see the film in a theater with the best sound system. A large screen is a plus but the biggest bang comes from a kick-ass, well-calibrated set of speakers. Furiosa will lose a lot in an older, run-down movie house and even more in a conventional home setup. Take away the spectacle aspect and the movie may seem repetitive and underwritten. In a premium movie house, however, the immersion is so complete that viewers may require a short recovery period once it's all over.

© 2024 James Berardinelli

Back to Black
If the recent spate of bio-pics of musical stars imparts one lesson, it's this: artists should be remembered for their work not for the Hollywood-ized retellings of their lives. Back to Black is the latest endeavor by the motion picture industry to exhume the story of a dead musician whose ultimately tragic life has been turned into a series of cliches about fame and addiction. It's an open question about how much of the real Amy Winehouse is to be found in a movie that is obsessed more with her flaws and dependency on alcohol and drugs than about her craft and prowess as a singer/songwriter. Oh, the music is there, but it seems more like a background track than a focal point.

The film covers roughly the period from 2002, when Winehouse (Marisa Abela) signed with Simon Fuller's 19 Management and ending shortly before her death in 2011 at the age of 27. Back to Black covers most of the key events of her adulthood: her rise to stardom, her tumultuous love affair with eventual husband Blake Fielder-Civil (Jack O'Connell), and her triumphant Grammy night. Excepting the first half-hour, most of what happens occurs through the haze of an alcoholic stupor (to which she eventually adds drugs). The movie paints Amy as rarely being sober - whether or not this is an exaggeration, it makes for a downer of a movie instead of a more nuanced narrative.

One question that arises when discussing a bio-pic, especially that of a singer/musician, is whether the lead actor is engaging in mimicry or giving a good performance. In the case of Marisa Abela, it's more of the former. To her credit, she does an excellent job replicating Winehouse's vocals (she did most of the singing) and stage presence. However, her attempts to recreate the singer's mannerisms in private settings is artificial. Although there are some intimate moments that work, the portrayal as a whole is over-the-top and it often feels like Abela is trying too hard. No one else in the film leaves much of an impression - Jack O'Connell's Blake and Eddie Marsan's Mitch Winehouse are underwritten. Another key figure in Winehouse's life and career, Mark Ronson, warrants only a passing mention, which seems odd to say the least.

Director Sam Taylor-Johnson, whose reputation remains scarred by Fifty Shades of Grey, seems to want to deconstruct Winehouse and explore the singer's darker side. That might have been an interesting approach if not for two things: Winehouse's demons were well-recognized during her life (to the extent that the cause of her death came as a surprise to no one) and Taylor-Johnson fails to explore how the singer's alcoholism either helped or hampered (or both) her ability to create. Even the most bland bio-pics of musicians (and there are dozens to choose from) spend more than a perfunctory scene or two on the creative process. That's the biggest disappointment here - that Back to Black's Winehouse is an addict first and everything else second.

As for the music, we get full renditions of Winehouse's biggest hits but there are times when it seems the songs are included to (a) sell a soundtrack and (b) because, like Priscilla, the movie would feel unbalanced without them. My reaction is that I could learn a lot more about Winehouse by listening to her music than by watching this by-the-numbers sketch of her adult life.

© 2024 James Berardinelli

If
In making IF, writer/director John Krasinski's heart was almost certainly in the right place. The movie wants to be an ode to the innocent magic of childhood and how we might be in a better place as adults if we could remember those qualities and engage with them. The problem is that a movie - any movie - needs more than fine sentiments and that's where IF fails. The narrative is all over the place. Character motivation is confusing. And, worst of all, the story simply isn't interesting. Sure, there are enough cute animated creatures to entertain younger kids (target audience: 6-10) but there's not enough substance to keep parents from wishing they were next door watching something less snooze-inducing.

Krasinski swings big and misses bigger. At varying times during the course of IF, I was reminded of the likes of Toy Story 3 (the sadness of outgrowing childhood), Big (bringing the exuberance of youth to a jaded adult world), Monsters Inc. (furry monsters invading the imaginations of children), and A Monster Calls (a child using her imagination to cope with a real-life tragedy). Although such comparisons might seem complimentary, they serve to illustrate how short IF comes up.

The core problem may be related to a lack of focus on Krasinski's part. He seems only vaguely to recognize what he wants to achieve. He seeks to make a family film that explores childhood and imagination. The vehicle is the "IF" (Imaginary Friend) of the title and he creates all manner of adorable, quirky, and weird creatures to populate his world, which exists mostly in the mind of the lead character, a 12-year old girl named Bea (Cailey Fleming). But the narrative is threadbare, lacking in coherence and consistency. Sure, Bea may be following her own version of the Yellow Brick Road with companions Cal (Ryan Reynolds) and Blue (Steve Carrell) alongside, but what's the destination? And, more importantly, with no Wicked Witch of the West stand-in, where's the conflict?

Early during the proceedings, we learn that Bea lost her mother to cancer a few years ago. (A flashback montage provides this information.) Now, her father (Krasinski) is entering the same hospital where her mother died in order to have a heart operation. Bea is surprisingly calm about this, although that may be mostly for show. While her father is unavailable as a care-giver, she moves in with her grandmother (Fiona Shaw), who lives in the same apartment where Bea spent a long-ago summer. Soon after moving in, Bea discovers that she can see all the Imaginary Friends that have been forgotten by their children. (Yes, there's a Sixth Sense vibe here.) Cal, a man who lives upstairs, is like Bea - he is cursed with seeing them as well - and he has set up a matchmaking service hoping to pair the orphaned IFs with new children. Bea decides to join his endeavor to give her something to do beside visiting her father at the hospital.

On the craft side, there are no issues. The special effects are top-notch and some of the creatures are occasionally amusing. In terms of star power, probably everyone who knows (and likes) Krasinski contributes a voice to the project. Although the only human stars of note are Cailey Fleming, Ryan Reynolds, Fiona Shaw, and Krasinski, the vocal cast is stunningly top-heavy: Steve Carrell, Emily Blunt, Louis Gossett Jr. (RIP), Awkwafina, George Clooney, Bradley Cooper, Matt Damon, Bill Hader, Keegan-Michael Key, Blake Lively, Sam Rockwell, Maya Rudolph, Amy Schumer, Jon Stewart...the list goes on.

As I indicated above, there is an audience for the film. Although some of the themes may be too deep for the youngest children, elementary school-age kids may become engaged without recognizing some of the obvious problems. I suspect, however, that when Paramount greenlit the project, they weren't anticipating such a limited target demographic. In the wake of the success of A Quiet Place and its sequel, Krasinski built up enough goodwill that the studio was willing to trust his judgment. Sadly, IF shows that such trust may have been misplaced. Wherever things went wrong, we're left with a disappointing result and a chance to ponder what this might have been if only a different path had been taken.

© 2024 James Berardinelli

The Strangers: Chapter 1
According to director Renny Harlin, who filmed all three parts of this horror trilogy back-to-back-to-back, The Strangers: Chapter 1 is not a prequel to the taut 2008 film, The Strangers, but the start of a new story "inspired by" the original. Indeed, it is closer to a remake, using many of the same plot points and tropes but losing a degree of the terror that defined Bryan Bertino's debut feature. Although this movie may work well enough for those who haven't been exposed to the first The Strangers, for the initiated, it often feels like an imitation.

It's difficult to judge Chapter 1 without having seen Chapters 2 and 3. Perhaps Harlin felt it was necessary to regurgitate The Strangers in order to move the story forward. For the moment, all we have is Chapter 1 and it falls into the mediocre category. Some of the scenes, particularly those that transpire inside the house, are edgy. Unfortunately, the outside material feels disjointed and lacks the intensity evident during the home invasion sequences.

Ryan (Froy Gutierrez) and Maya (Madelaine Petsch) are on a road trip when, compelled by rumbling stomachs, they pull over at a diner in the backwater Oregon town of Venus (population<400). While ordering their meal, they get a lot of stares; expressions of incredulity follow when Maya admits to being a vegetarian. After they finish their meal and get back into the car, the engine won't start. The local mechanic says he can't fix the problem until the next day, but fortunately there's an available Airbnb house in the area, so that becomes home for the night for the couple, who don't let the wooded surroundings prevent them from getting frisky. Or at least that's until the loud banging at the door starts. They don't know it yet but they have been targeted by a trio of masked murderers.

The Strangers are the same three we met in the first movie: Scarecrow (Matus Lajcak), Dollface (Olivia Kreutzova), and Pin-Up (Letizia Fabbri). As with Michael Myers, we never see their faces. Instead, viewers and victims alike are confronted with the implacable, fixed-expression face coverings (in Scarecrow's case, a burlap sack over his head). Their motivations are as opaque as their identities. When asked why they're stalking the couple, Pin-Up (the only one to utter a line) says "Because you're here." That lack of motivation and backstory helped make The Strangers compelling and, at least for Chapter 1, Harlin keeps the mystery intact. Although they're seemingly people in masks, there's an almost supernatural aspect to the way they toy with their prey.

Harlin, who made a name for himself directing Die Hard 2, understands how to make a horror movie. There are occasional jump-scares but he also has fun with those "boo!" moments by teasing them then backing away. The Strangers occasionally appear in the background where the viewers can see them but the characters can't (Harlin arguably goes to this well a few times too many). There are a few memorable sequences, none better than the one in which Maya takes a shower with the possibility that a Stranger may be watching. She senses a presence but, with shampoo lathering her scalp and running down her face, she can't open her eyes to confirm her worst fears.

Although there are stretches when the movie generates tension, the seeming inevitability of the endgame limits its power. I might have been more kindly disposed to the relentlessly dark nature of the story if I hadn't seen essentially the same narrative developed with more flair 16 years ago. As a follow-up/homage, Chapter 1 isn't bad but it feels superfluous, adding little substantive to what was previously provided by The Strangers and the second film in the series, 2018's The Strangers: Prey at Night. It remains to be seen whether my opinion will change once this has been combined with the other two chapters of Harlin's horror opus.

© 2024 James Berardinelli

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes
Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes is a sequel/soft reboot of the Planet of the Apes cycle begun in 2011 with Rise of the Planet of the Apes and continued in 2014 and 2017 with Dawn of the Planet of the Apes and War for the Planet of the Apes. Transpiring between 200 and 300 years in the future, the new film views the events of the previous trilogy as part of a mythology that has grown up around the legendary figure of Caesar. Director Wes Ball's first foray into feature films outside of The Maze Runner trilogy works satisfactorily as a stand-alone movie although it is clearly intended to be the first of a several-film arc. And, although Kingdom attempts to set itself apart as a result of the time jump, it is paradoxically more reliant on a Planet of the Apes series familiarity than some of the other movies. The greater one's understanding of the earlier films (the '60s-'70s iterations and the more recent trilogy), the greater one's appreciation of what Kingdom has to offer.

This is not a high octane foray into action-adventure territory. Ball expends a fair amount of screen time on world-building - something that will pay dividends if the series continues but may seem indulgent if this is the final entry. The movie's first human character doesn't appear until 45 minutes into the proceedings. Until then, Ball explores how different ape tribes have developed in the post-Caesar era. Several action scenes early in the film feel forced and artificial, almost as if Ball, aware of audience expectations, feels duty-bound to deliver, even when the screenplay doesn't necessarily support a lot of action.

At one point during the '70s Planet of the Apes craze, there was a TV show. (It aired for 14 episodes during the fall of 1974.) It could be argued that this new epoch of Planet of the Apes begun with Kingdom might be better served by returning to television (this time as a streaming series), although production costs might be prohibitive. As is evinced in this movie, the narrative is forced to do almost too much heavy lifting, interjecting exposition in ways that are sometimes counterproductive. The pacing is erratic, with some sequences moving too fast.

Kingdom opens with an introduction to three young members of the Eagle clan - Noa (Owen Teague), Soona (Lydia Peckham), and Anaya (Travis Jeffery) - who are preparing for the annual bonding ceremony. Before the event can take place, however, the village is invaded by an army belonging to Proximus Caesar (Kevin Durand), a warlord who seeks to unify the disparate ape clans (by force) into a single kingdom with himself as ruler. Noa escapes capture and decides to locate the survivors of his tribe and, if possible, affect a rescue. He is joined on this journey by two unlikely companions: Raka (Peter Macon), a orangutan who follows the true principals of Caesar, and Mae (Freya Allan), a young, speaking human woman who is smarter and more resourceful than most of her kind.

There's a lot of nuance in Kingdom. None of the characters are good or evil - all are products of their circumstances. Proximus is driven by ego but his charisma and intellect make him a formidable adversary. Mae, despite initially seeming weak and vulnerable, shows qualities to emphasize that the original rulers of the planet might not be as dead and powerless as seems to be the case. William H. Macy's Trevanthan, the film's second human, is a conflicted and intriguing study into what humanity has become by the time of Kingdom.

As has been the case since 2011, the creature-work special effects are top-notch. They are as realistic as they were when director Rupert Wyatt and motion capture actor extraordinaire Andy Serkis first embarked upon this new reimagination of Planet of the Apes. The film also does an excellent job of presenting the apocalyptic setting of a future landscape where recognizable monuments have decayed and become overgrown by vegetation. As we travel with the apes through this wreckage of a human-designed world that is being reclaimed by nature, there's a sense of awe at how real everything seems.

Kingdom has many of the same qualities as a superhero origin story. It focuses on establishing characters and their relationships and defining the setting. The narrative's purpose is twofold: provide a trajectory for this movie and set up future installments. Although the main plot threads conclude by the end of Kingdom (this isn't one of those films that frustrates with a "wait until next time..." demand), there are enough dangling threads that one could easily imagine where a future production might take the surviving characters.

Planet of the Apes fans will almost certainly be pleased by this outing. The open question is whether casual movie-goers will be intrigued by this exploration of a post-apocalyptic world in which human characters are footnotes. Messages about inclusion and racism are easily identified but are no more overt than in the previous installments. The battles and a climactic action sequence are well filmed but Kingdom isn't trying to outdo the other summer films when it comes to edge-of-the-seat viewing. In a strange way, I find that refreshing.

© 2024 James Berardinelli

The Fall Guy
The Fall Guy represents what a true "summer movie" should be: a light, fast-paced spectacle with likeable characters and a balance between action/eye candy and narrative elements. No one is going to call Drew Pearce's screenplay a masterpiece of wit or intelligence but it's good enough to generate some laughs and keep the viewer engaged for the slightly overlong 126-minute running time. And, although the selling point is the action, one could argue that this is as much a rom-com masquerading as a comedy-thriller as it is a comedy-thriller with a romantic subplot.

Technically, this is a re-imagining of the 1980s TV series The Fall Guy, a show that ran for five seasons on ABC. Although there are some tie-ins and call-backs, the movie is essentially its own entity. Out of respect to the earlier version, the filmmakers brought back stars Lee Majors (in a speaking role) and Heather Thomas (no lines) for cameos during a mid-credits sequence. The theme song, "Unknown Stuntman" (originally sung by Majors), is covered by Blake Shelton.

The Fall Guy stars Ryan Gosling as Colt Seavers, a top stuntman in the industry and the regular stand-in for Hollywood A-lister Tom Ryder (Aaron Taylor-Johnson). Colt is involved in a not-so-under-the-radar relationship with camerawoman Jody Moreno (Emily Blunt). Things go downhill when Colt is severely injured in a stunt-gone-bad. During his convalescence, he breaks up with Jody, despite her attempts to help him through the trauma, and becomes a recluse, opting to work for a valet service rather than return to moviemaking.

18 months later, he is lured back to the set by producer Gail Meyer (Hannah Waddingham), who implies that Jody, the debut director of the would-be science fiction blockbuster Metalstorm, has requested his services. Hoping to rekindle their romance, Colt agrees…only to discover that not only didn't Jody ask for him, she wants anyone but him. Eventually, he is allowed to stay but there's more afoot than Colt repenting for the real and imaginary sins. Tom has disappeared, there's a body in a bathtub, and Colt finds himself on the hunt for the miscreants behind these nefarious doings.

Director David Leitch, the stuntman-turned-director whose previous efforts behind the camera include John Wick, Atomic Blonde, and Deadpool 2, has stated that The Fall Guy is a love letter to stuntmen. Consequently, the movie's action set pieces are more reliant on practical special effects than CGI (although I assume the latter was used to some degree, especially in scenes when we see outtakes of Metalstorm). This results in an impressively visceral experience that lacks the slickness sometimes associated with computer effects. The end credits allow viewers a peek behind the curtain to get a clearer picture of the stunt work.

Ryan Gosling and Emily Blunt evince enough chemistry to make their pairing work. Their romance is of an old-fashioned variety that includes a lot of teasing and verbal sparring with a kiss representing the pinnacle of their physicality. This being a family-friendly movie, actual sex is a bridge too far. Still, the movie relies more on the banter and interaction between these two characters, who are clearly besotted with one another, than what one normally expects from an action film. Aaron Taylor-Johnson gives an amusingly satirical performance as a full-of-himself movie star. Winston Duke has a supporting role as Dan Tucker, who becomes Colt's sidekick, and Ben Knight plays the requisite invincible bad guy.

The Fall Guy is replete with pop culture references, most from the '80s and '90s. A Blunt-sung karaoke version of the Grammy-winning "Against All Odds" is highlighted as are some popular filmmaking techniques from the '80s (especially split-screens). Jody's favorite films include Notting Hill and Love, Actually, although Colt confuses the former with Pretty Woman. Leitch has fun with meta references, allowing elements of the film-within-a-film to reflect events from the movie's "reality." (There's even a third level to this when it comes to the stunt work since Ryan Gosling, despite playing a stuntman, has his own stuntman.)

There are things to nitpick about The Fall Guy. It's perhaps 10-15 minutes too long. Aspects of the climax are underwhelming. The movie lacks a solid villain. And Blunt is underused. None of these minor criticisms derail what represents the first splashy ride of the summer of 2024's multiplex amusement park. The Fall Guy delivers where it matters - it's a fun, uplifting excursion into big-screen escapism.

© 2024 James Berardinelli