Reviews

  • Song of the Sea (2014)

    Song of the Sea (2014)

    (On Cable TV, May 2019) All right, what’s wrong with me? Writer-director Tomm Moore’s Song of the Sea is a top-notch fantasy animated film, wonderfully animated in 2D, reminiscent of Miyazaki, heartfelt and story-driven like few other contemporary animated films … and I didn’t actually like it all that much. I’ll play the “personal preferences” card here—the film’s 2D animation is in a cute style that doesn’t grab me, and it leans hard on Irish mythology, which is not something I respond to. I would strongly recommend having a look at the film’s trailer before committing to a full viewing—if you like what you see, then jump in because the film is exactly that. As for myself, I’m vexed—I think it’s a high-quality film, I wish there were more of those, I would rather see/recommend/praise this film than most of what I watch, yet I can’t muster up any enthusiasm for the result. I’ll note that I had a similarly muted reaction to The Secret of Kells from the same director [April 2022: … and to the later Wolfwalker, also from the same director] so there may be something there that is just not working for me, for now. Ask me again in a decade and we’ll see.

  • She-Devil (1989)

    She-Devil (1989)

    (In French, On Cable TV, May 2019) Dark comedies are a tricky exercise in tone, and She-Devil doesn’t quite manage to create the necessary balance to be completely successful. Which isn’t to say that it isn’t worth seeing for other reasons, namely having Roseanne Barr as a cheated-upon housewife taking revenge over a wealthy romance novelist played by none other than Meryl Streep. That’s a matchup for the ages, and while Barr carries the film on her shoulders, Streep certainly looks like she’s having fun as the Other Woman in a then-rare comedy role for her. But while the concept of She-Devil has potential, the execution can be off—nearly everyone in the film is a terrible person, and we get the sense that we’re supposed to cheer for the protagonist solely because she’s the protagonist—that being cheated upon is the thing we should be sympathizing with, rather than the person having likable qualities of their own. Otherwise, the film holds up decently well: the fashions are very 1980s, but the rest still plays along similar lines today. Not for lack of trying, She-Devil doesn’t quite get the mixture right … but it’s still watchable with low expectations.

  • Mission: Impossible – Fallout (2018)

    Mission: Impossible – Fallout (2018)

    (Netflix Streaming, May 2019) Enough information has emerged from Mission Impossible—Fallout’s chaotic production history (a 33-page outline in lieu of a script at the beginning of production, plot points being rewritten on the go to fit around the action sequences, Tom Cruise breaking his ankle on-screen and delaying production by nine weeks, three significant action sequences seen in trailers but cut from the film…) to make us aghast that this is what modern blockbuster production has turned into. But it’s hard to argue when the result is so successful. Building on top of great action sequences to deliver a fairly decent thriller with some surprising thematic depth, Fallout digs a bit deeper into the normally-ludicrous IMF mythology, brings back a surprising number of references to previous films in what had been up to now a very loosely connected series and builds upon the previous movie to provide the female characters with a greater role to play. Everyone’s getting older in this film (Tom Cruise in the first place, but also Ving Rhames and Simon Pegg) but the stunts are getting wilder and the plotting more convoluted. Alec Baldwin is a lot of fun to watch as a good guy, while series newcomer Henry Cavill does have a menacing presence and Vanessa Kirby makes a significant impression in a short role—beyond sheer looks, I suspect she has that elusive quality we’re looking for in a lasting star, but we’ll see what she can do next in Hobbs & Shaw. Still, this is Cruise’s show as he jumps, runs, shoots, dives and pilots a helicopter in a desperate chase as orchestrated by recurring writer-director Christopher McQuarrie. Much of Fallout’s fun is in the escalating action sequences that just keep going and going, their requirements driving the circumlocutions of the plot more than anything else. The Mission Impossible series has never been about real-world verisimilitude as much as audaciousness on how they play their ludicrous spy-thriller cards. Now that the series seems to be heading with a more tightly-plotted arc (using the terms as loosely as possible), it’s going to be interesting to see how long it can keep going: The series is still centred around the fifty-something Cruise, and while it now seems willing to keep bringing back its female characters for return engagements (Rebecca Ferguson and Michelle Monaghan here, so let’s hope for Thandie Newton and Maggie Q next) there’s an open question as to how much competition Cruise can tolerate in his own showcase series—we’ll note that neither Jeremy Renner nor Cavill are likely to be back for the next film. Still, the fact that we’re openly contemplating a seventh instalment is something of an achievement at a time when most series run out of steam at this point. If it’s going to be Tom Cruise’s playground, then let’s keep him playing.

  • The Train (1964)

    The Train (1964)

    (On Cable TV, May 2019) If there’s a subspecies of suspense movies that usually aged well, it’s those thrillers that deal with cold mechanical steel—cars, trucks, trains, planes. One of the best, The Wages of Fear, is dull right up until it onboards the trucks and then suspense feels as immediate as anything else since then. So it is that The Train also deals in rolling stock; plus it has Nazis as antagonists. The premise is different enough to be interesting, but simple enough to put in a few words: As the Allies advance toward Paris, Nazis are stealing artwork and stashing them on trains bound for Berlin. The resistance won’t have any of this—but the problem is that they can’t just blow up or derail the train without harming the artwork itself. In steps our protagonist, played by Burt Lancaster with his usual solidity. He’s a top resistance operative, but he’s not the artistic type: he couldn’t care less about the paintings, but events soon steer him toward pure vengeance. In the hands of veteran director John Frankenheimer, The Train is a steely action/adventure film, not particularly given to humour when there are more serious topics to tackle. The camera fluidly moves through trainyards, immersing us in the environment before blowing them up. There are some amazing shots in the film, including the bombing of an entire trainyard at Vaires. While the film does feel a bit long at times, Lancaster couldn’t be better, and the tension remains high as there’s a limit to the amount of mayhem that the resistance can do to stop but not destroy the artwork. The film’s spectacle arguably peaks before its climax, but the result is nonetheless satisfying.

  • Der Golem, wie er in die Welt kam [The Golem] (1920)

    Der Golem, wie er in die Welt kam [The Golem] (1920)

    (On Cable TV, May 2019) I don’t get much conventional enjoyment out of early 1920s movies—I see them for historical purposes, but I have a hard time with anything that’s not Keaton, Lloyd, or Chaplin (and Chaplin is often pushing it). I had an even more difficult time with The Golem considering that the version I saw was a terrible unrestored public-domain transfer, marred by flickering, scratches and unsightly marks on the negative that added to the film’s very shaky early-cinema production values. Still, there was something compelling in the result. A transposition of the classic Jewish tale about a Golem being created to protect Jews from peril, writer-director Paul Wegener’s film still works relatively well, offering further proof that while straight drama depends on its time, genre fiction thrives on decades later. I’m surprised that there hasn’t been a Hollywood big-budget film taking on the Golem as subject matter… But maybe I’ve missed something.

  • Unfriended: Dark Web (2018)

    Unfriended: Dark Web (2018)

    (On Cable TV, May 2019) Surprisingly acceptable sequel-in-theme-only to the 2014 movie-on-a-laptop-screen, Unfriended: Dark Web manages to ditch the supernatural element (perhaps—see “sufficiently advanced technology, magical indistinguishability”) and keeps finding new hoops to jump through. Like the original, it takes place almost entirely from a computer screen, with our protagonist stumbling upon a laptop of evil and it taking over his friends’ lives for the next 90 minutes. Given that it’s a horror film, you can probably guess how it ends, but the point of the film is the journey to get there. Despite the recourse to the quasi-magical dark web and omniscient antagonists of omnipotent capabilities, the film does remain anchored in some kind of reality, and its characters are much more likable than in the first film. As someone who’s keenly interested in non-traditional narrative filmmaking, Unfriended: Dark Web does hit one of my sweet spots—and seeing Betty Gabriel pop up in even a secondary role is just a welcome bonus. I’m not particularly taken by other aspects of writer-director Stephen Susco’s film—it does try to be a bit too cool early on with a self-conscious and blatantly in-your-face choice of music; the protagonist is a bit of an idiot for just taking a laptop; and I’m never fond of the overdone nihilism of everybody-dies movies. But generally speaking, I still liked quite a bit of Unfriended: Dark Web, perhaps more as an exercise in non-traditional storytelling than a story, although it is compelling and the High-Density on-screen nature of the film’s plot development means that you have to pay attention to the film throughout its duration, which is something you can’t really say about much traditional horror movies. It’s not quite as good as Searching, which managed to do something ultimately uplifting and far more dramatically intriguing with the same format, but it holds its own. By my count, we’re now up to four movies in the on-screen subgenre (everyone keeps forgetting about Open Windows) and I’m starting to be surprised at how much staying power this gimmick still has. Now let’s wait a few years and see what the sequel will use on-screen.

  • Hollywood Canteen (1944)

    Hollywood Canteen (1944)

    (On Cable TV, May 2019) Here’s what you need to know about Hollywood Canteen: During WW2, Hollywood celebrities got together and paid for a club in Los Angeles exclusively reserved for servicemen on leave where they could get free drinks and meals. Adding to the appeal, glamorous movie stars donated their time by actually bartending and waitressing for patrons of the place. This is all true—although accounts of the place usually underplay the considerable Pro-Hollywood publicity value in this arrangement. Further adding to the mystique is this film, not a great one but a fascinating time capsule of propagandist wish fulfillment that shows WW2 soldiers enjoying a few days in Los Angeles and spending time at the Hollywood Canteen where they get a chance to rub shoulders with movie stars. (Lost to twenty-first century audiences is the idea that when this film was shown to servicemen overseas, they could have been these guys.)  The film itself, once past the bare-bones setup, is a series of performances by Hollywood then-stars at the Canteen, effectively turning the film is a series of variety show sketches while the film’s protagonists kiss Hollywood starlets, empty sandwich trays or watch the acts with mouth agape. If some scenes make you somewhat queasy at the way the actresses are offered to soldiers for kisses, then you do have a good grasp at the hierarchy of values presented here, elevating the fighting soldier on a special pedestal. Hollywood Canteen remains both a wartime propaganda film, and a revue of who was who in Hollywood at the time—some of them featured in the movie, others referenced through dialogue. Many of the jokes are obscure now that the stars are gone—Jack Benny gets a laugh from the characters just by showing up, for instance, leaving twenty-first century audiences puzzled for a few moments. It’s fun to see some Hollywood stars in a far more relaxed environment, though—especially Bette Davis in a more comic role. The Canteen acts as a pretext, as the characters have adventures around town, our protagonist gets to romance a movie star and we tour the Warner Bros studios of the time. It’s actually quite a fun movie even with the propaganda material … but it works far better as a reminder of a bygone era.

    (Second viewing, On Cable TV, February 2021) I first saw Hollywood Canteen barely two years ago, but since I’ve spent much of the intervening time deepening my knowledge of classic Hollywood, revisiting it felt like a different experience. This is true of most films if you’re interested in the vast meta-narrative of Hollywood, but it’s particularly relevant in discussing Hollywood Canteen, as it’s a film that relies a lot on celebrity cameos for effect. The plot of the film remains the same from a first viewing to a second: it’s a fictionalized homage to the real “Hollywood Canteen” that, during WW2, offered free meals, refreshments and entertainment to servicemen on leave in the Los Angeles area. Thanks to the effort of notables such as Bette Davis, Hollywood studios pooled their resources and stars for the upkeep of the place, and it wasn’t rare to see a screen legend serving tables at the Canteen. The result was a propaganda victory for Hollywood, and fuel for fantasies involving soldiers and starlets. Alas, this aspect makes it intact in the film, as there’s a truly uncomfortable amount of time and attention lavished on named stars granting kisses and weekend getaways to the film’s fictional soldier characters, each of them over the moon to get some personal attention from their screen favourites. The film is at its worst when focusing on Joan Leslie playing “Joan Leslie,” an object of lust for many but luckily snagged by our protagonist as the millionth G.I. to enter the Canteen. Blech. But plot is the least of Hollywood Canteen’s worries when there’s a stream of musical numbers and comic cameos to act as a revue musical. That’s when a second viewing comes in: Cameos can be more mystifying than satisfying if you’re not familiar with the actors making a winking walk-on appearance, but they pay off the more you’re familiar with the comic point being made. 1944 audiences had no trouble catching the various jokes, allusions and parodies in Hollywood Canteen, but modern audiences will be tested on their knowledge of early-1940s pop culture — and specifically the Warner Brothers roster of stars. Having brushed up on my classic Hollywood in two years, I now knew who was Joe E. Brown and now could appreciate the donut gag as intended. The more you know about the character actors at the time, the more you can appreciate the bit with S. Z. Sakall and his cheeks, or Sydney Greenstreet hamming it up menacingly with Peter Lorre. My growing appreciation of Ida Lupino went up with every word of French she spoke (a gag made even funnier by Victor Francen’s follow-up), and so did my slow-burn liking of Bette Davis as she came onstage to explain the genesis of the Canteen. I’m not as up to speed when it comes to musical stars, but even I could appreciate the Andrew Sisters, Roy Rogers and his horse Trigger, the rather funny “You Can Always Tell a Yank” (which eerily sounds like a Disney song for reasons I can’t quite figure out), duelling violins and the background music by Jimmy Dorsey and his orchestra. Even the second time around, I maintain that Hollywood Canteen is somewhat distasteful as a narrative, but I grew much fonder of the remaining three-quarter of the film, as a comic musical revue.

  • Friendly Persuasion (1956)

    Friendly Persuasion (1956)

    (On Cable TV, May 2019) If ever I’m handed a time-travel machine, there are places and times that I’ve got no interest in ever visiting, and I know this because I’ve seen enough from Hollywood depictions of those times and places. Friendly Persuasion, for instance, takes us in a small nineteenth-century rural American community away from it all, and specifically in the life of a Quaker family. What could have been a semi-idyllic pastoral existence is challenged when strangers come into town announcing the big news: The United States is in the midst of a civil war, and recruits are needed to fight the enemy. This, obviously, challenges the Quaker’s pacifist, non-interventionist convictions, and most of the film’s plot is a debate of ideas about whether the kids should go to war. But this Oscar-nominated film isn’t solely about that—in many ways, it doesn’t have a plot as much as a threadbare narrative to link together a variety of vignettes about life in a village. At 137 minutes, it does end up feeling long and dull, not helped by the very loose plotting. The atmosphere will be a calling card for some viewers yearning for a rural fable, but not for others. Gary Cooper is his usual solid but bland self, while Anthony Perkins gets an early role playing the protagonist’s son. If you are in the mood for immersion in 19th century rural America, go ahead and watch Friendly Persuasion—otherwise, you may find yourself patiently waiting for the film’s second half, in which the story picks up substantially as war comes closer and the characters are called into action. That’s the point at which the film’s themes are finally confronted. While there is something admirable (and, frankly, still a bit unusual) in hearing Americans question the use of violence, the film simply isn’t tight or fast-paced enough to make the discussion more accessible. Fortunately, you can snap back to reality after a mere two hours and fifteen minutes.

  • Shock and Awe (2017)

    Shock and Awe (2017)

    (On Cable TV, May 2019) As someone who stood by aghast as the United States rushed into the invasion of Iraq back in 2002–2003, I’m naturally predisposed to like Shock and Awe, a dramatization of how the Knight Ridder staff consistently reported accurate information about the rush to war … only to be ignored by much of the mainstream press which, at the time, was uncritically relaying the Bush administration’s message. There are a few great messages here about an independent press, skepticism of government, analysis-based decision-making (rather than the other way around) and perseverance in the face of mass delusions. Director Rob Reiner features stirring speeches, confrontation scenes with deceivers, hints of conspiracy in journalists meeting sober-minded sources and characters trading J-school best practices. This is good stuff, and the film does act as a reminder (for people my age) or primer (for younger viewers) on the events of the time. The relevance of such a film won’t be lost, as today’s headlines have to do with another administration mounting another war in the Middle East under a steady drum of impeachment talk. But as much as Shock and Awe acts as catnip for a political junkie, there’s a clear difference between its blunt approach and the more subtle machinations of something on the level of, say, The Post: it’s overstuffed with inelegant exposition, rushing through facts while not always giving characters the breathing room to live. Even a dating scene, meant to humanize the characters, ends up being a blatant as-you-know vehicle. It’s not enough to make me dislike the film (in fact, I do like it a lot), but a bit more attention to characters could have made it stronger, and one that doesn’t necessarily play to a sympathetic crowd such as myself. The issues with the screenplay are so fundamental that they obscure really good work done by capable actors—one day, we will have to talk about Woody Harrelson and his choice of roles as one of the most progressive actors of his generation. Other names such as James Marsden, Tommy Lee Jones and Jessica Biel show that they can be counted upon to deliver a serviceable performance no matter the circumstance. But even if having the right intentions is crucial, having the right methods is essential.

  • Beirut (2018)

    Beirut (2018)

    (On Cable TV, May 2019) Catch me on a bad day, and I will talk your ears off about how grown-up adult cinema has been evacuated from the multiplexes and shuffled off to art-house cinema, minor streaming releases and the corners of the cable channels. I’m not even talking about meditative character studies, here—I mean geopolitical thrillers such as Beirut, heavy in suspense and action but somehow a bit more complex than the save-the-world Manicheism of modern blockbuster films. Beirut doesn’t do anything outlandish—it simply takes us back to early-1980s Lebanon, near the peak of the unbelievable civil war that took it from a world-class city to loosely arranged rubble. In this complex environment, with half a dozen factions fighting each other under the watchful eye of two superpowers and the powder-keg environment of next-door neighbour Israel, comes a negotiator being asked to secure the release of an American hostage. There are several complications, not the least of them being that the protagonist knows both parties to the hostage exchange and is returning to the city ten years after tragic events involving him. Beirut has the heft of a good thriller, with a flawed world-weary protagonist unsure of who’s trying to help or kill him in an environment where there are no certitudes. Every year, you can read about a dozen similar novels … but you’ll be lucky to find even one movie with that kind of ambition. Of course, there’s Tony Gilroy writing the script, one of the few Hollywood screenwriters with the clout and chops to tackle such a project. Director Brad Anderson has an uneven filmography, but he handles the material well, backed with capable production design taking us credibly to 1982 Beirut. More crucially, he can also depend on a good script and decent actors: Jon Hamm is great as the bruised negotiator, Rosamund Pike is fine as his local liaison (she even gets to have some well-delivered French dialogue) and there’s Dean Norris with a hairpiece in a secondary role. The ending is suitably satisfying—with characters more or less getting what they wanted, but with the impending irony of the 1983 bombing just around the corner. The plot is a full order of magnitude more complex than the usual blockbuster, so it will take some sustained attention to follow. Beirut is the kind of film in my wheelhouse, the kind of film I wish I’d see more often. It’s not a slam-bang thriller, but it’s engrossing enough to be worth a look—especially if the modern blockbusters have let you down.

  • Smallfoot (2018)

    Smallfoot (2018)

    (On Cable TV, May 2019) There’s been a surprisingly robust subgenre of animated movies about large humanoids in the past few years, so you may be excused if you can’t tell Smallfoot from Abominable, Missing Link, The Son of Bigfoot and Mission Kathmandu. This one inverts the formula, by being told from the yeti’s point of view as he comes across and befriends a little boy. It’s a serviceable animated film—its technical qualities are good without being exceptional (although some of the character design is questionable), and the script is a cut above the strict minimum. The physical comedy often approaches Looney Tunes territory (appropriate for a film by the Warner Animation Group) even if the musical moments aren’t always well-integrated. But Smallfoot’s script remains its strongest suit, what with touching upon conceptual breakthroughs, seemingly necessary lies and getting along after years of open warfare. The result is sympathetic, and the ending reaches a thesis/antithesis/synthesis compromise that seems unusually complex—although this being a kid’s movie, it ends well for everyone. Smallfoot doesn’t have the Asian setting distinction of Abominable, the spectacular stop-motion of Missing Link or the regional charms of The Son of Bigfoot and Mission Kathmandu, but it’s perfectly acceptable in its own way.

  • Game of Thrones, Season 7 (2018)

    Game of Thrones, Season 7 (2018)

    (On Cable TV, April-May 2019) Considering Game of Thrones’ nine-year run, its unusual status as an adaptation having outrun its original material, the sweep of an intricate plot with at least a hundred speaking parts, the rabid devotion of its fans to resolving even the most intricate of its mysteries and the sheer gall of attempting a small-screen adaptation of a high fantasy series, it’s almost inevitable that its conclusion would fail to meet most expectations. It’s been a predictable spectacle to hear The Internets wail about various missteps of the conclusion. I’ll be more enthusiastic, largely because having done my time in the fandom trenches (Babylon-5 forever!), I’m far more willing to accept whatever has been completed. I’m not going to deny that this last run has its issues—as with the last few seasons, the nuts-and-bolts details of the scripts haven’t always come up to satisfy its bigger structural ambitions. The six concluding episodes had a lot of material to go through, but the rush to get it done means that a lot of connective tissue was elided or missing. A few plotting decisions, defendable in retrospect, don’t always make sense on a minute-by-minute basis. (The twist of Episode 5 being the best example of this.) Some Dumb TV Tricks also create their own problems, with cheap theatrics and artificial suspense trumping a satisfying ramping up (I’m looking at you, end-of-episode-3 Big Surprise). Some character arcs are not resolved in an entirely satisfying fashion (oy, Jaimie), although considering the very large cast, I’m generally satisfying with the way their stories turned out. And that goes for the series as a whole—while I’m not completely happy with the way the show-runners stuck the landing (sticking it to King’s Landing was fine, though), it concludes the series decently, provides the bare minimum amount of closure, ensure that the series is of a coherent piece and even provides a clue as to what will await readers in the concluding volumes of the book series. (I expect details to change, but I can definitely see the structure of the season leading to the broad strokes of the conclusion.)  Away from the story, elements of this seventh season’s cinematography, music, acting and special effects are nothing short of terrific. Could it have been better? Of course. But considering the scope and sweep of the show-runners’ ambition at the beginning of the journey a decade ago, what they have accomplished with Game of Thrones is still nothing short of a landmark.

  • Point of No Return (1993)

    Point of No Return (1993)

    (In French, May 2019) If you’re keeping track at home, 1993’s Point of No Return is the American remake of Luc Besson’s 1990 French film La Femme Nikita, and both of them can be said to have been prequels to the better-known 1995 film Léon. As a remake, if very close to the original—Americanized, for sure, but otherwise very similar in story beats and overall themes, and perhaps a bit less stupid than Besson’s script. The influences go deeper, of course—Nikita explicitly became not one but two TV shows, there’s a good case to be made for Alias tracing back its early-years lineage to either the French or American version of Nikita, Besson seems to be rewriting his female-assassin urtext every few years (Bandidas was in 2006, Colombiana was in 2011, Lucy was in 2014, Anna is next in 2019) and much of Milla Jovovich’s career seems to have been facilitated by this film. But progeny aside, what about Point of No Return? Well, as directed by John Badham it’s a serviceable action film. The suspense and action scenes can be effective despite their familiar nature, and that goes for much of the film as well—given the endless quasi-remakes of that story, the film does feel formulaic at this point, and even the little bits of interest illustrating the story don’t feel quite as fresh these days. Bridget Fonda does manage a very good action/drama performance, with some smaller but showy interventions by Gabriel Byrne and Harvey Keitel. Execution counts for a lot, and the early-1990s sheen of the film is fast approaching period-piece status, not to mention the trend-trendy filmmaking tracks of the film. The Nina Simone songs add a bit of colour, and Point of No Return frequently needs it.

  • Elle [Her] (2017)

    Elle [Her] (2017)

    (In French, On TV, May 2019) Unnerving from beginning to end, Elle is famed transgressive director Paul Verhoeven’s latest successful bid for relevance at a time when his 1980s work has influenced so many filmmakers that it’s practically mainstream. The film starts with no less than a rape, but the film arguably gets far stranger when its protagonist takes a decidedly matter-of-fact approach to her assault and decides to simply live with it (or at least attempt to). Of course, it’s not going to be so simple: in between harassment at work, an affair with her best friend’s husband, a milquetoast son, a narcissist mother and a mass-murdering father (!), there are enough subplots here to fuel at least four movies, not all of them in the same genre. In fact, Elle’s most unsettling characteristic is how it refuses to become a simplistic genre thriller at every turn, focusing instead on a vast, complex, sometimes unbelievable but full portrait of an authentic character. Our heroine has a lot going on in her life, and the film is about accepting the reality of it all. Even the rapist is unmasked well before the end, with what follows being more disturbing than the film’s first few moments. Lead actress Isabelle Hupert is magnificent in a daring, unusual, multifaceted role in which she never quite does what we expect from a lead character. The dark comedy of the film is unmistakable and made more effective by the film’s constant insistence on topics thought impossible to joke about. Well-directed and definitely in-line with Verhoeven’s most basic instincts of transgression, Elle is not mainstream entertainment, but it’s remarkably effective nonetheless. I don’t plan on seeing it again any time soon, I may never recommend it to anyone, but it did enjoy it (if that’s the right word) substantially more than I expected.

  • The Predator (2018)

    The Predator (2018)

    (On Cable TV, May 2019) Shane Black is far too good a writer-director to completely turn out a bad movie, but The Predator is his worst yet. It still does have flashes of humour and mildly inventive action, but it does struggles and succumb to the creative fatigue of a series either four or six films long at this point. Despite inventing new enemies, new motivations and changing the shape of the plot every fifteen minutes or so, The Predator can’t quite manage to get out of its predecessors’ shadow. Which is curious, because it’s probably the second-best film of the series (largely on account of the others not being particularly good). Black’s worst instinct can work against him at times—the film has its number of puzzling plot developments, far too much gore, lines that fall flat due to overreach and an infuriating amount of technobabble: not only is it too happy to bluntly equate autism with super-smartness (sigh), it doubles down on its idiocy by claiming that autism could be a next stage of human evolution. There’s a plot reason for that, mind you (summed up: “Predators want autistic braiiins”), but it’s still an incredibly moronic claim. Black has a long experience as an action screenwriter and it shows best in the small beats of his action scenes, but he often loses focus: there are too many characters and his sequences could be sharpened by forgoing some extraneous elements. The ensemble ennui isn’t helped by hit-and-miss actors—I could watch Olivia Munn all day at any time, but Boyd Holbrook isn’t charismatic enough in the lead role. Many of the ensemble cast are good actors with little to do, although it is cool to see Jake Busey show up briefly. The SF plot devices are weak, the action is uneven, but the film is on slightly more solid footing with its dialogue, occasionally being self-aware enough to be effective even in the middle of dodgy plot developments. I watched the film falter in between flashes of humour and wit, smothered by a surprising boredom at seeing pretty much exactly what the predator series has already done. That The Predator does better at exactly the same things that previous films in the series is only a half-success. It would be time to retire the concept, except that the film is meant to be the first reboot of a new series. So it goes today, with once-promising concept being ground down in overfamiliarity even when the results are half-competent.