TRANSFORMERS: RISE OF THE BEASTS Review

Sixteen years removed from Michael Bay’s original foray into live-action robots in disguise and if one were to only watch that initial film and the latest from Steven Caple Jr. (Creed II) they would be accurate in feeling like we haven’t come nearly as far as the journey has felt. There would be more to it than meets the eye if you will. As the interim between these two films has offered four sequels and a spin-off though, Transformers: Rise of the Beasts doesn’t feel so much redundant as it does refreshing; the franchise growing from the humble reset that was Bumblebee while never allowing itself the arrogance of believing it takes anything near two hours and forty-five minutes (yes, that’s the actual runtime of 2014’s Age of Extinction) to tell what would easily be a three episode arc in the cartoon. 

Rise of the Beasts is, for all intents and purposes, another Transformers film where the thing a bad guy needs to complete/destroy/take over has somehow made its way to earth and the stranded autobots must help a couple of humans who’ve become tangled in the intergalactic mess defeat the antagonist and save the world. The film adheres to these familiar archetypes while executing them in clear and endearing ways. This is especially true when it comes to the action sequences as well as the human characters. Both Anthony Ramos and Dominique Fishback are so appealing with Ramos lending his effortlessly cool aura to the tone of the film while Fishback infuses things with a certain amount of gravity that feels more authentic than put upon. The New York-based nineties setting doesn’t hurt either as Caple and his set designers go all in on the pop culture references, specific car models, and of course - the soundtrack. Wu-Tang, Tribe Called Quest, Biggie, and LL Cool J tracks all drop at opportune times, enhancing the procedural nature of the plot points and invigorating the vibe again and again.

SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE Review

What makes a spider-person the hero they are? Or the person they are? Just as Miles Morales feels like an anomaly among his own, this film is very much that in both today’s comic book movie and cinematic landscape. Utilizing every element at its disposal to convey character feelings and better distinguish each of the many universes it creates, every aspect feels organic despite being completely constructed out of oblivion. Themes resonate more than the sometimes confusing plot, but the care and love evident in every decision makes all the multiverse talk more semantics than linchpins. It’s something special even if it’s not completely clear what it is; though, instead of considering it the anomaly it is we might simply recognize (appropriately) that it goes beyond anything we’ve seen before. 

As breathtakingly beautiful and boundary-pushing as it is visually it also attempts some rather daring narrative choices by upending the peace Morales (voice of Shameik Moore) found in becoming Spidey at the conclusion of the previous film and more specifically, the peace in being part of a tribe that finally understood him. Speaking of conclusions and daring narrative choices, this is definitively part one of a two-part story and thus there isn't a resounding completeness to all of the themes and arcs that Across the Spider-Verse puts forward (and it's a lot). Knowing this is set-up for a third film due next year the cliff-hanger of an ending didn't bother me but feels worth mentioning due to the multiple groans heard in my screening when that "To Be Continued..." hit. It was the only part of the experience that evoked the current state of comic book movies.

THE BOOGEYMAN Review

Movie teenagers are the worst, but the teens in attendance at my screening of The Boogeyman made the experience all the more enjoyable. Screaming at every minor sound effect, hiding their faces under the covers they brought specifically for that reason and praying they don’t have to overcome a fear of the dark for a second time in their lives after seeing the latest from director Rob Savage (Host). Their reactions honestly may have influenced my enjoyment of the film slightly but only because it became very clear how effective the film was at working on its target audience just as it intended. 

The Boogeyman doesn't offer the most original premise, no, but Savage knows how to construct jump scares and build atmosphere; both of which are key to enjoying this well-made and effective horror flick even if the themes and conceit don’t reinvent the wheel. Beginning with the offscreen death of an infant is one way to set a tone (sorry if that's a spoiler) yet Savage goes there and leans into the idea of death without fear of alienating his audience. Rather, the dynamics and situations of his prmary cast members are strong out the gate because Scott Beck, Bryan Woods, and Mark Heyman's screenplay takes its time in both describing and processing the grief each character is experiencing and handling in different ways.

GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXYL. 3 Review

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 is the most confounded I’ve been by a movie in some time. I don’t know how to process it completely. As a fan of writer/director James Gunn, his first film, and a massive fan of GotG Vol. 2 (as in it’s absolutely the best non-Avengers film in the MCU) I had high hopes for the gang’s swan song. Unfortunately, this final time out with this configuration of the Guardians - at least upon initial viewing - is an incoherent, repetitive, sensory overload so grating that any attempt at emotional resonance is rendered moot. 

From the minute Will Poulter’s underdeveloped and underutilized Adam Warlock arrives to decimate the titular team it seems clear Gunn took his screenplay out of the oven a few drafts early. The character of Warlock (who was heralded as a Christ-like figure in the second film) is presented as a clown mere minutes after almost annihilating the Guardians with little to no effort. The contrast could work, sure, but it's not developed in any recognizable fashion as Gunn was clearly more interested in the High Evolutionary (Chukwudi Iwuji), a mad scientist of a man whose abusive yet paternal tendencies certainly fit the writer/director’s running themes in these movies, yet the High Evolutionary's arc feels as stock as the template Gunn uses to close out his trilogy. Iwuji also likes to yell. A lot. 

When I say template, I'm of course referring to the one where a main character becomes incapacitated, and the movie then spends the rest of its runtime sending his friends who desire to save them on countless missions to locate countless McGuffins required to in fact save him. I realize many a genre flick rely on these kinds of plot devices as a way of propping up their bigger thematic ideas through easily accessible checkpoints, but Gunn feels above this and that he chose to go out leaning on such a structure would only seem to suggest that the script and, as a result, everything afterward was not necessarily ill-conceived, but more feeble in the way James Gunn movies are typically bold and affecting. 

BLACKBERRY Review

Crackling with an uncontrollable energy from the get-go, Matt Johnson’s embellished (and that’s being kind, it seems) docu-drama telling the origins of the BlackBerry is the latest in a line of movies this year where what was once product placement is now the whole point. We all know the eventual products these movies center around will become a success at one point or another and in different capacities, but BlackBerry isn’t so much about how the product came to be or even the impact of it, but rather the impact on the people behind its creation, success, and downfall and how not only the world, but those lives were forever changed because of it. 

Johnson and co-screenwriter Matthew Miller know audiences don’t necessarily care about the thought process that birthed the smartphone and they correctly assume audiences understand the impact it has had negating any need to try and encapsulate the seismic cultural shift that occurred because of this invention spearheaded by Mike Lazaridis (Jay Baruchel) and Doug Frigan (Johnson). Instead, the film then becomes about the corruption of dreamers by the ability to obtain the dream. In the film, Glenn Howerton’s raging, narcissistic, intelligent, but insane and insanely arrogant Jim Ballsillie (pronounce that as you think it should be, not is, for best results) is brought in to conduct the business portion of the equation that engineers like Lazaridis and Frigan were fumbling. Through this partnership we see so many dimensions of what can be gained from aggression as well as what wounds are bore because of it; what heights can be reached from ambition as well as what heights might be missed if there is no drive to accompany it.