THE FANTASTIC FOUR: FIRST STEPS Review

Shang-Chi and The Eternals didn’t need to be the next Iron Man. The Marvels nor Anthony Mackie’s Captain America never stood a chance at being such given the climate they were released into (not to mention their generally poor quality) whereas Thunderbolts* needed to do a lot of things but it didn’t necessarily need to turn over a new leaf or define the next generation of super hero films in the way 2008’s Iron Man did. This third iteration of "The Fantastic Four" in thirty years though…it did kind of need to be the next Iron Man; not necessarily in terms of look, feel, or execution but by doing what that film did for the genre upon its release: revitalizing it. The challenge facing The Fantastic Four: First Steps is that it both needs to feel fresh, be something of a departure from the MCU thus far signaling a changing of the tide while retaining audience investment in the future of the universe at large. Herein lies the issue as First Steps is essentially a self-contained, single issue comic book story that introduces, entices, and entertains - all good things on their own merits - yet it still feels uncertain how convincing the film is at persuading casual viewers that they should follow Marvel’s first family into the future.

The simplicity and practicality of Marvel’s approach to the introduction of this version of The Fantastic Four echoes through the story, the design of Earth 828 where the film takes place, as well as extending to the mentality of all of the characters; what is right and wrong not only seems evident to everyone but it is purposefully communicated the majority are on the same page -- tensions only arising once the nuance of Galactus’ ultimatum does and even then, humanity trusts The Fantastic Four enough to not question their methods. Director Matt Shakman began with Marvel on Wandavision, so his hiring for this retro futuristic take on the superhero family makes sense and to he, the editors, and the screenwriter’s credit the film efficiently conveys not only the context within which this team exists but the place they occupy in society and in the world.

SUPERMAN Review

Neither the character nor the symbol that is Superman (or Clark Kent, for that matter) has ever been considered cool, or edgy, or frankly all that interesting. Often referred to as the oldest living Boy Scout, Clark Kent and his alter ego have always meant to crystallize what was pure about humanity as imbued by those on the outside looking in. So, in a world where everyone is believed to have ulterior motives and no one’s intentions come purely from the goodness of their own heart where, and how, does Superman fit in? This seems to be the angle with which writer/director James Gunn - a man mostly known for telling saccharine stories about scumbags - has approached his Man of Steel movie for, while this is the first piece of Gunn’s larger, brand new DC cinematic universe, it is just as importantly a justification for why the character of Superman matters just as much as the Superman character does in today’s divided climate. Gunn didn’t seem a natural fit for a story anchored by a hero whose facets are limited if not a little one-dimensional but when viewed through the prism of questioning said character - and I mean Superman’s sincere mission of serving humanity in order to make the world a better place, just to be clear - when that character is called into question by those who once believed in him but have been turned mercilessly against him by the billionaires that control the narrative, the story automatically turns from one about fighting for truth, justice, and the American way to one asking and hopefully challenging audiences to investigate what those terms mean based on the source that is spouting them. 

It is no secret Gunn knows a thing or two about having ones past dug up in order to smear their name and reputation as Superman is subjected to very much the same treatment here. It is also no secret the current President and Lex Luthor would rather make detractors disappear than actually allow for said truth, justice, and the American way to be upheld, but it is somewhat surprising how overt this text is in the film and how it sustains itself throughout. A throughline involving Dinesh Thyagarajan’s Malik “Mali” Ali is the most visceral and brutal part of the film that now resonates in more ways than Gunn likely even intended when he initially wrote it. Is it a little funny for Gunn to equate his experiences to something on the scale Superman might experience? Sure, but in taking this approach to the character the writer/director finds his way to a hero who is both consistent with what the movies of the past have presented (I was just the right age to prefer Batman to Supes) while making the character, if not necessarily punk rock, at least a little more cool and edgy than we’re accustomed to. Further, Superman’s frustrations here fit the more modern aesthetic and world of the story as opposed to the retro ideals of Americana that seemed of the past even in the 1978 original. Superman, and Gunn’s version (and movie) specifically, still amounts to the belief that if we’re all a little kinder to one another the world will be a better place, but David Corenswet’s portrayal never for one moment makes us think we should mistake his kindness for softness; he is very much determined to do what it takes to keep basic human decency intact regardless of fabricated policies and political decorum.

F1: THE MOVIE Review

“So, what is it about?” A couple of different characters pose this question to Brad Pitt’s Sonny Hayes - a washed-up Formula One driver who lost his shot at greatness at a young age and never found his way back - to emphasize an absolutely crucial character trait necessary to justify why a 60 year-old might be afforded the biggest stage in racing, but if we apply it to the film itself the answer is pretty straightforward: F1: The Movie is a comeback story, an underdog tale, and a redemption arc that we’ve seen play out a thousand times before cloaked in a world myself and no one I personally know cares anything about. While this might not be true of most viewers around the globe, this lack of insight makes the goals of the film immediately striking to the uninitiated such as myself: immerse viewers in the world to the point they’re invested in the story it’s telling while successfully executing a fresh take on how that story is told. 

From a storytelling standpoint, this is as simple as old school versus new, an old pro coming back into the fold of a young man’s game to show the “soft” rookie how it is done. Director Joseph Kosinski (the king of legacy sequels featuring colons) gives us everything we could want in such a sports drama from flashbacks to the aforementioned turning point in our protagonists life in a hurried, intercut fashion forcing us to piece much of it together ourselves down to the inevitable third act twist that presents an unforeseen challenge to the core team just as they’ve learned to put aside their differences and come together for the greater good. While much of the plotting in F1 can be seen coming from a mile away, what’s most invigorating is that it doesn’t try to upend expectations but in fact, Ehren Kruger’s screenplay wholeheartedly embraces them with Kosinski crafting his film to excel through each and every one of them.

MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - THE FINAL RECKONING Review

Tom Cruise, for the better part of this millennium, has needed the Mission: Impossible franchise as much as it has needed him. During the promotional tours for these movies Cruise touts the teams and creatives behind the production as the real reason these films continue to work and the same could be said about Cruise's character, Ethan Hunt, within the world of this franchise; one of the main thematic threads in the series has been how Hunt would sacrifice millions before allowing something to happen to those closest to him. No matter the amount of praise he heaps upon the stunt teams or how much importance Hunt places on his IMF colleagues though, Cruise is still the one at the center of it all, he is the main focus and in Mission: Impossible - The Final Reckoning it has never been more apparent that Cruise both can’t help this no matter the amount of grace he displays and that, in truth, he wouldn't have it and doesn’t want it any other way. 

The character of Ethan Hunt represents the epitome of moral righteousness, he is literally the keeper of the nuclear keys in this "final outing" for the franchise - the guy every other character comes around to supporting because deep down they know he is the one they can trust to do what is right - and Cruise has been intent on parlaying this savior-like mentality into his own persona as the keeper of the theatrical movie-going experience upon realizing this was his path back to, if not the top of the cultural mountaintop, at least maybe the industry Mount Rushmore he so quickly demolished on Oprah’s couch in 2005. In 2025, at the time of the release of The Final Reckoning, Tom Cruise is now four years older than Jon Voight was in 1996 when the first film arrived in theaters. The impulse to make this final chapter as much a retrospective victory lap as a conclusive story is not without calculation; the inclusion of footage from the previous seven films, showing not only the symbiotic relationship between the franchise and its star but also how weathered both the character of Hunt and Cruise the actor have become in the nearly three decades since the initial installment is a bold choice. This is, of course, all in the name of the…ahem…mission to solidify Cruise’s reputation and legacy - a layered and complex web of how our persona and authentic selves can both be reflected through art - is as compelling a route to take as any but unfortunately said victory lap is ultimately more symbolically satisfying than it is conqueringly definitive.

THUNDERBOLTS* Review

Like many fans of the Marvel Cinematic Universe lately, the heroes of Thunderbolts* have felt unfulfilled. Yelena (Florence Pugh), Bucky (Sebastian Stan), Walker (Wyatt Russell), Ghost (Hannah John-Kamen), and Red Guardian (David Harbour) don't have much in common besides the loneliness that being assassins, science experiments, and super soldiers has led them to yet somehow (and somewhat ironically) this shared strand of abandonment is what brings them together. This film in particular finds itself at a crossroads of a moment where the MCU is both trying to redefine itself as well as figure out what direction it goes after being lost in the void of content inundation that has occurred since Endgame. Again, not unlike this band of "disposable delinquents" who are unclear where they fit into the grand scheme of things in a post-blip world where the Avengers are no more, Thunderbolts* seeks to carve a new path forward by essentially attacking the anxieties of the heroes, and by default - the fans, head on. The good news is that this is a strong step in the right direction. 

I’m sure there's a solid analogy to be drawn around how once and current Disney CEO Bob Iger, in the Valentina Allegra de Fontaine role, tried to lock these characters that debuted under Bob Chapek (sans Bucky) away in a Disney vault somewhere but ultimately decided to reverse psychologize by pushing them to the front of the next phase in a Guardians of the Galaxy/Suicide Squad-style team-up that he then sells as “the first and best example” of the studio’s new focus on quality over quantity, but I don’t know that I have the energy to investigate beyond those surface parallels. The point being, it feels pretty bold to make the biggest issue your biggest cash cow is facing not only the main theme of your Avengers re-brand, but the villain itself as Eric Pearson (a Marvel vet) and Joanna Calo (a frequent TV writer) more or less literalize the depression and loneliness these characters (and by extension, the audience members) are feeling through the existence of Lewis Pullman’s Robert Reynolds character. What Pearson and Calo’s screenplay does so deftly though, and I’m sure it is aided by director Jake Schreier’s execution, is how clearly and directly it addresses these subjects without ever making it feel heavy-handed.

WARFARE Review

Making a war film inherently means you're making an anti-war film even if that intention was never part of the process. No matter your political persuasion, the reasons for the conflict, or even the dopamine hit certain types of personalities receive from being amidst such situations, one would hope we could agree the waste of life given in exchange for such rationale is not only unfortunate, but unnecessary. By default, most war films are labeled as propaganda - using seductions of the cinematic language to portray the horrors of combat in an idealized and/or unrealistic fashion - yet writer/director Alex Garland in collaboration with Navy vet Ray Mendoza seek to strip the genre of all such seductions in order to make audiences both more aware of such stories while also conducting something of an experiment in order to gauge what conclusions are drawn and what the perceived central idea becomes when taking a more forensic approach to these events as opposed to a more fabricated one. 

Interestingly, the film informs the audience of said experiment up front stating that the film is based on the memory of the people who lived it. Though Mendoza serves as co-director as well as receiving a screenwriting credit and is portrayed in the film by D'Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai, Warfare is an ensemble piece that is essentially a re-enactment of an encounter this platoon experienced during the Iraq War in the wake of the Battle of Ramadi. The film gives no more context than this, allowing viewers to take from it whatever they choose to glean. While the film very clearly seeks to honor and respect what these men do when risking their lives in order to execute the whims of their superiors and their superiors’ superiors, in terms of being an exercise in the “less in more” school of filmmaking and crafting what is ultimately a collage of memory pieces it is a fascinating experiment as it is inherently understood that even the most vivid of memories are subjective, that there can be no absolutes in the chaos of such confrontations, and further – that everything that has happened to these individuals since these events has informed their recollections of these moments.

FREAKY TALES Review

Neither Anna Boden nor Ryan Fleck, the writers and directors of Freaky Tales, hail from the Oakland area where their latest feature is set but Fleck grew-up in Berkeley and was eleven years-old in 1987 - when the film is set - indicating this is more a passion project for Fleck and something more akin to a challenge or an insight for Boden. Fittingly, the dynamic between the filmmakers - the homecourt advantage for Fleck and visitor status of Boden - is imbued in the final project as Freaky Tales fittingly straddles the line between being an underdog tale while understanding domination is the more appealing perception in the real world. Still, when it comes to the stories - or excuse me, tales - the underdogs continue to stand as the more inspiring option with this line of thought being present from the opening scroll of Boden and Fleck's latest.

Narrated by Too $hort with the film itself taking its title from the MC's 1989 track, we're told that Oakland in '87 was "hella wild"; the people, the culture, the music - it didn't matter - the descriptor applied to all. $hort also informs us the reason for everything feeling so fresh likely had something to do with a "bright green glow" that felt akin to an electricity in the air but clarifies said glowing green was not the same color as the city's "underdog A's uniforms". What the "bright green glow" might symbolize or represent is of course up to interpretation and will likely vary based on age and relation to the time and place at the heart of the film but broadly, it's meant to be something of a vibe incarnate; an embodiment of the attitude of Oakland at the time that lends each of the characters in each of the featured vignettes the swag necessary to convince us there's something a tad atypical or "freaky" about these tales that are otherwise as old as time.

BETTER MAN Review

With better musical numbers - at least as far as how they’re conveyed in the format of film - than Wicked and a more innovative take on the musical biopic certainly than anything that has been released since Bohemian Rhapsody became a four-time Oscar winner, Better Man transcends its multiple genres and demolishes expectations via a number of choices, perspectives, and ideas. Chief among these being that the main character, British pop star Robbie Williams, is rendered as a chimpanzee for the entirety of the film. Whether this is due to the fact he felt “less evolved” than those around him, that he felt treated like a circus act during his "Take That" days, or simply that he became something of an animal once fame afforded him the space to be, the central gimmick is more admirable in a distracting fashion than it is an influential one, but it doesn't not work and that was the risk in taking such a swing.

The facet that actually separates Better Man from the current crop of musical biopics is the fact Williams himself couldn't give less of a shit about PR. That is to say, the man has no issue showing you his scars or telling you how he feels about those that surrounded him. Getting this kind of unfiltered access and perspective feels more and more rare these days when the majority of musical documentaries are more or less controlled and therefore extremely filtered pieces of marketing material for their subjects. Luckily, a puff piece is not what neither Williams nor director Michael Gracey were interested in. As these things always go, it begins with wanting to make a father proud because of the lack of attention said father paid to their child while still on their own quest for fame and fortune. This neglect enables the kind of imposter syndrome Williams suffers from throughout the film and likely still to this day even with all of the awards and accomplishments, propping up the drive that has ultimately placed him in a position to command his own musical biopic despite what some might consider proper talent.