Captain America: Brave New World - Review: A New Star-Spangled Man Takes Flight

 

As opposed to virtually every single other film in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, “Captain America: Brave New World,” does not open with the flowing logos for Marvel Studios, showcasing a combination of clips from the previous MCU films and comic book panels of yesteryear. Instead, the fourth film centering on the role of the Star-Spangled Man and the first to have Sam Wilson, played by Anthony Mackie (“The Night Before,” “Twisted Metal”), take over the role, opens with simple black and white words over pensive strings. “MARVEL” appears first, then “STUDIOS,” then “PRESENTS,” each word appearing on its own.  

It’s a small way of signaling to the audience that this is a film with different goals than some of the previous works, a film committing to the espionage centered political thriller that the beloved “Winter Soldier” film also touched upon. It’s a smart move as well, as the film does touch upon plenty of political themes and espionage, but isn’t nearly as successful, or just frankly good, as Marvel’s last attempt to do so.  

The film follows Wilson taking over the mantle of Captain America full time after the events of “Avengers Endgame” and “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.” President of the United States Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross, played by Harrison Ford (“Raiders of the Lost Ark,” “Shrinking”), is attempting to broker a treaty between various countries to share the resources discovered on “Celestial Island,” an island made of the remains of a Celestial being after its death on Earth in “Eternals (2021).” During an event to celebrate these talks, an attempt is made on the President’s life, which leads Wilson to attempt to piece together who orchestrated the plot, why they involved his friend and former super-soldier Isaiah Bradley, played by Carl Lumbly (“Justice League (2001),” “Alias”). 

Mackie’s charm continues to radiate throughout the film, just as much as it ever has. Whether he’s been Cap or the Falcon, he’s be a source of charisma without begetting seriousness. His characterization also helps to further establish the differences between his version of Cap and Chris Evans/Steve Rogers’s. He and Ford have some excellent banter and chemistry as well. Ford’s performance continues to show that, for as much as he might bemoan these films in interviews, he’s committed to the showmanship required for blockbuster filmmaking. He narrowly eeks out Mackie and cements himself as the absolute best part of the film. 

It makes sense that Mackie and Ford are the best parts of the film, as they’re not only the two leads but the two marquee characters. Unfortunately, the rest of the characters fade away and are almost completely overshadowed by the two leads. The script has clearly gone through plenty of rewrites, with this final version credited to Rob Edwards (“Treasure Planet,” “The Princess and the Frog”), Malcolm Spellman (“Our Family Wedding,” “Empire (2015)”), Dalan Musson (“See What I’m Saying,” “Iron Sky: The Coming Race”), Peter Glanz (“The Longest Week”), and the film’s director Julius Onah (“The Cloverfield Paradox,” “Luce”). Those drafts have unfortunately muddled what political intrigue the film clearly wants to build. 

The rest of the film’s characters come across as people filling out the cast, rather than naturally fitting into the plot. Wilson’s partner Joaquin Torres, played by Danny Ramirez (“Top Gun: Maverick,” “Chestnut (2023)”), takes over his Falcon role, and the pair bounce off each other well. Ruth Bat-Seraph, President Ross’s head of security, played by Shira Haas (“Bodies (2023),” “Asia (2020)”), feels like a copy-cat of what came before with Scarlet Johansson’s Black Widow, as if she was supposed to fit into the role pre-“Endgame.” Wilson’s friend and secret service agent Leila Taylor and nemesis Sidewinder, played by Xosha Roquemore (“Cherish the Day,” “The Mindy Project”) and Giancarlo Esposito (“Breaking Bad,” “Do the Right Thing”) respectively, are great when they’re here, but simply underutilized. The only one who manages the balance of emotional pathos and great use of screentime outside of Wilson and Ford is Lumbly, but even that comes mostly from the beginnings of his tale in the Disney+ show “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.” Tim Blake Nelson (“Holes,” “The Ballad of Buster Scruggs”), as Samuel Sterns, is also great, in a scenery-chewing kind of way, but is limited by the amount of screentime he has.  

Yes, there’s some poor timing with a film based around the President and this kind of political machinations, but beyond that, the mystery still manages to be engaging despite the muddled themes. Those character moments and ambiance are the film’s best aspect. What isn’t is the action sequences. In-between a bombastic opening and final battle, the hand-to-hand combat is lackluster. What was once a massive feather in the cap of the Cap films specifically feels like a watered-down afterthought. It bizarrely feels like it's playing at two-thirds speed compared to the other action scenes, and it suffers because of it. 

Thankfully, the technical aspects behind the production are top notch. While some green screened reshoots show their seams, the camerawork from cinematographer Kramer Morgenthau (“Creed III,” “The Many Saints of Newark”) is fantastic across the board. Numerous scenes play with the camera’s tilt and the use of empty space, in a similar vein to something like Mr. Robot. The more grounded nature of the Captain America films also means that there’s an overwhelmingly practical nature to this film, though it's not without its CGI spectacles. The musical score from Laura Karpman (“American Fiction,” “The Marvels”) is also a massive highlight, bringing in some subtly and uncomfortable espionage ladened strings to complement the bombastic themes for the action set pieces. 

Despite how underutilized some of its characters are and the hand-to-hand action, this latest adventure with Cap and Co. is a legitimately entertaining romp. When it zeroes in on the most mysterious and small-scale elements, it really works as a fun bit of MCU comfort food, neither rising to the heights of films like “Winter Soldier” nor falling to the depths of “Quantumania.” It's a solid adventure with clear room for improvement, but imminently watchable for anyone looking for a superhero fix more in line with the early MCU’s more grounded nature than the current glut of science-fiction, space opera, multiversal tales. 3.5/5

Love Hurts - Review: All Pain, No Gain

 

There’s something to be said for a studio that excels at a very specific niche. For Blumhouse, it's cranking out low-to-mid budget horror films. For Amblin, it’s crafting adventure films either for the whole family or that feel like they're from a bygone era. For 87North, the youngest of the bunch, delivers action films with an emphasis on excellent technical stunt work. This has worked well for a while, with the studio’s previous works ranging from “Nobody,” “The Fall Guy,” “Bullet Train,” “Kate,” and more. In theory, teaming up with an actor with a huge amount of stunt experience who’s recently experienced a career resurgence should be an absolute slam dunk. 

“Love Hurts” follows Marvin Gable, played by Key Huy Quan (“Everything Everywhere All at Once,” “Loki”), a real estate agent who loves to emphasize positive vibes and happiness in his houses and everyday life. One day, after an attack by two goons King and Otis, played by Marshawn Lynch (“Bottoms”) and André Eriksen (“Violent Night,” “The Trip”), and a bird themed assassin named Raven, played by Mustafa Shakir (“Ghosted,” “Luke Cage”), his life is thrown into disarray when his old crush Rose, played by Ariana DeBose (“West Side Story (2021),” “Wish (2023)”), reappears to ask for him to resume his violent, hitman tendencies to help her get revenge against Marvin’s brother Knuckles, played by Daniel Wu (“Into the Badlands,” “American Born Chinese”). 

On paper, everything about this film seems up to snuff. Not only does Quan have the stunt experience (before his acting resurgence, he worked on numerous productions as a stunt coordinator), his smiley, optimistic personality is a perfect fit for a film like this. He’s great, allowing the film’s differing personas for Marvin to take over his performance, resulting in a role that takes advantage of his two biggest skills. His stunt work is excellent, as is the action throughout the entire film. It does end up being some of the silliest material of 87North’s catalogue (a giant novelty spoon and fork are involved at one point) but it's still just as brutal and fluid as any of their previous works. 

Unfortunately, that’s where the positives end though. The rest of the film is a pale imitation of these kinds of action flicks, and much of it is quite simply bad. Despite a runtime of under 90-minutes with credits, first-time director Jonathan Eusebio fails to amass much momentum with the story. Despite being peppered with action sequences, the actual plot is painfully boring, which then makes the actions scenes feel worse than they actually are. When the only thing separating the action scenes is a plot that you can’t get invested in, it makes those action scenes blend together. There’s a “hamster wheel” type of feeling, as if the film is just running in place. 

That script also does none of the actors any favors. Co-writers Matthew Murray (“Sheltered”), Josh Stoddard (“Betas,” “Warrior (2019)”), and Luke Passmore (“Slaughterhouse Rulez,” “Archenemy (2020)”) relishes in its action movie cliches without ever expanding on them. It invites pieces of weirdness in, like the Raven and his feathered weaponry and poetry, but stops there. It’s just weird for the sake of it, without actually relating to any other vibe the film is putting out. Meanwhile the dialogue is just awful. Numerous moments of emotional pathos are ruined by truly groanworthy lines that simply drag the film down. It doesn’t help that, besides Quan, the rest of the cast feel like they’re phoning it in. Wu is a bland antagonist, Shakir plays the Raven with a grimness that feels weird against the strangeness of the character, Lynch and Eriksen feel like they’re trying to channel a Tarantino banter to minimal success, and DeBose, despite winning an Academy Award just a few years ago, delivers her lines like she’s doing a purposely bad impression of a 1960s film noir femme fatal. 

Even the film’s budget is an issue by the time all is done. It makes sense that this isn’t a film that costs a hundred-million dollars, but its cheapness is most noticeable again because of the poor pacing and boredom. If the film had a decent pace, then, just like the action scenes, some of the cheapness wouldn’t be as noticeable. But every set where a fight takes place feels woefully sterile and flimsy, like it's made of paper and put together just to be destroyed. Yes, some of those fights take place inside of Gable’s “for sale” houses, but the bright lights shining through windows don’t feel like bright sun, they feel like giant stage lights from somewhere in a sound stage. 

Here’s hoping that, in the next few years, Key Huy Quan can continue to capitalize on his newfound success, but that he reads the material first. “Love Hurts” certainly stings, as it manages to completely waste both its lead and the talents of its production studio. What’s good here can’t break through the monotony and what’s decent is turned into a slog because of that aforementioned monotony. “Love Hurts” quite a bit, apparently. 1.5/5

Companion - Review: A Tale of Our Relationship with Technology

 

While it doesn’t share the same writer or director, “Companion” does share the same producers as the 2022 surprise horror hit “Barbarian.” And like that film, it's also a tale best experienced while knowing as little as possible. It’s virtually impossible to discuss “Companion” with any real merit without spoiling its central conceit, so for those just wanting to know its quality: it's a taught, bloody, exceptionally funny dark comedy horror thriller that riffs on romantic comedies to delightful and ridiculously fun results. 

The film follows Iris, played by Sophie Thatcher (“Yellowjackets,” “Heretic”), who travels with her boyfriend Josh, played by Jack Quaid (“The Boys,” “Star Trek: Lower Decks”), to a fancy cabin in the woods owned by Sergey, played by Rupert Friend (“Homeland,” “Asteroid City”), the older Russian boyfriend of Josh’s friend Kat, played by Megan Suri (“Never Have I Ever,” “It Lives Inside”). After a night of drinks and partying with everyone, including Josh and Kat’s friend Eli, played by Harvey Guillén (“What We Do in the Shadows (2019),” “Puss in Boots: The Last Wish”) and his boyfriend Patrick, played by Lukas Gage (“Smile 2,” “”), Iris realizes a horrifying truth: she isn’t a real person, she’s a companion robot Josh rents to be his girlfriend, full of fictitious memories and feelings for him. 

Thatcher anchors the entire film with a performance that, even given her previously stellar work, absolutely excels. She turns Iris into someone you become fully invested in, riding with her throughout her tumultuous adventure. It's a character that just lets her run away with the film and she’s just utterly fantastic. Quaid is also fantastic, continuing to use his “good guy” persona to excellent effect, building up the emotional core of the film while also weaponizing it to terrifying effect. He can balance both halves expertly and is a perfect foible for Thatcher and Iris. 

Meanwhile, the rest of the cast is still great, but just don’t get as much meat to dig into as Thatcher or Quaid. Gage is an absolute standout, cementing his place as almost a third lead in the film. His career seems to be slowly morphing into that of a scream king, and he plays it well. Suri and Guillén get to fulfill the typical archetypes of their roles in this kind of genre cinema, but they don’t feel one note though. A huge part of that is the script, the film is written and directed by Drew Hancock (“Suburgatory,” “Blue Mountain State”), which manages to shatter each characters' pre-conceived role in the tale to great dramatic and comedic effect. There are numerous stretches where the film feels like a straight up comedy, with Hancock cranking up the tension exactly when needed. 

Composer Hrishikesh Hirway (“Save the Date,” “Everything Sucks!”) gets in on the juxtapositions as well, with a musical score that does fall into the typical tense and horror adjacent strings when needed but otherwise plays into the film’s bright and cheerful rom-com facade. Hancock and his team get great mileage out of a relatively small shooting space, using the lake house and surrounding woods to create a palpable sense of claustrophobia. 

Hancock’s experience working on off-kilter sitcoms and directing music videos for the likes of Tenacious D shines through here, as the film somehow never splits from its horror-comedy tone. There are breadcrumbs to piece together through the first act, and even when things turn, it remains an exceptionally funny movie. It's a bit of a magic trick how both of these elements not only work together so well, but never overshadow each other. Given the heavy themes piled throughout, Hancock keeps it highly entertaining. It's the sort of film that’s just a really fun time at the movies, plain and simple. If there is one thing that holds it back, it's the fact that, for all its modern-day urgency and topic-ness, it does feel like yet another “A.I./robot-adjacent horror film” even for as well executed and entertaining as it is. 

“Companion” is a ton of fun in just about every way. It really isn’t the film’s fault that it just happens to be coming out in a glut of robot-focused horror or thriller films. After all, in the years going forward, all that will remain is the fact that this is a tightly written and directed film that’s never fails to be funny or tense, sometimes at the same time, and proves to be yet another showcase for the fantastic talents of Sophie Thatcher and Jack Quaid. A connection with this “Companion” is an easy recommendation. 4.5/5 

Dog Man - Review: The World's First "Supa Cop"

 

Almost a decade after their first foray into the world of Dav Pilkey’s books with “Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie,” DreamWorks is dipping their toes back into the well of kiddish silliness once more. While the books this film is based on are actually written by Pilkey, they’re considered “in universe” novels written by the two young protagonists of the “Captain Underpants” series, George and Harold. Which does explain why, from the names of locations to the dialogue to the offbeat art style, everything about “Dog Man” bleeds kid whimsy from each frame. 

Set in Ohkay City, dimwitted cop Officer Knight and his beloved and much smarted dog Greg are caught in an explosion set up by Petey the Cat, voiced by Pete Davidson (“The King of Staten Island,” “Bodies Bodies Bodies”), resulting in life threatening injuries. The only way to save them is to sew Greg’s head onto Knight’s body, creating a dog-man “supa cop” hybrid known as Dog Man. In his new state, the Chief of Police, voiced by Lil Rey Howery (“Get Out,” “The Carmichael Show”), sets Dog Man after Petey the Cat, who now has a young clone/son Lil Petey, voiced by Lucas Hopkins Calderon in tow, all while famed reported Sarah Hatoff, voiced by Isla Fisher (“Wedding Crashers,” “Wolf Like Me”) reports on the arch enemies. 

Much like the original novels and the previous “Captain Underpants” film, writer/director Peter Hastings (“Animaniacs,” “The Country Bears (2002)”) keeps an authentic kind of silliness on full display here. From side characters without names (the police chief is just named Chief) to important locations like the Living Spray Factory or the Abandoned Expendable Warehouse, it feels as though a ten-year-old kid sat down and told the entire story to Hastings, who then pitched it to a bid-budget animation studio. There’s a refreshing level of nonchalance to everything; no one ever winks at the camera for any of these jokes or puns, because that’s just how the world is here. You just sit back and go along for the ride. 

While Howery and Fisher are a comedic highlight, both leaning into the most cartoonish voices they can muster, Davidson and Calderon are both unexpected delights. While Calderon more or less has to speak with his own kid voice, Davidson brings a surprising amount of pathos to a role that should be just a joke. An evil cat to fight off a good dog, but his delivery is exceptionally comedic while also being soft and sincere. It’s a weird balance that makes him a standout for the film. 

For those unaware, the “Dog Man” books feature plenty of silliness and slapstick, but when they shift away from Dog Man and towards Petey and Lil Petey, they take a tonal turn into the more somber. While his origins aren’t delved into as much in the film, Petey’s discussions on life, parenting, and love with Lil Petey seemingly come out of nowhere. It feels like when a small kid will randomly ask you about your life, and all of a sudden, you’re accidentally having introspective conversations with a 6-year-old, with a kind of honesty only they can muster. This isn’t just apparent in these scenes, as little details of Petey’s rougher childhood, such as a robot he names “80-HD” (say it out loud), give little insights into the character. It gives the film and Petey an extra layer that makes it more than an over-the-top silly romp, and arguably turns it into a film far more about him than Dog Man. 

It isn’t all somberness and “deep talks about life” though, as 95% of the film does rocket straight ahead with its silliness. This does mean that the first 10 or so minutes of the film move at such a breakneck pace, you’d be mistaken for believing it was being fast-forwarded through. The freewheeling comedy and action mean that the pacing is quite erratic, moving blisteringly fast one moment, and grinding to a halt the next. The third act feels this the most, as despite being filled with action and comedy that’s just as funny as the rest of the film, it also introduces a new villain, Flippy the telepathic fish, voiced by Rickey Gervais (“The Office (2001),” “The Invention of Lying”), who sticks out thanks to a rougher vocal performance. 

Beyond the pacing and humor, the film’s visual style is a sight to behold. Ditching anything remotely close to realism, the world of Dog Man comes to life with bright colors and a purposefully simplistic art design. Characters eyes are nothing more than black dots or lines, puffs of smoke billow in scribble balls, and everything feels handmade in the best way. When Dog Man’s head turns, you see both sides of his mouth, never betraying his hand-drawn two-dimensional design. Even inanimate objects brought to life simply have big Muppet-ish googly eyes added on top of them. It’s just another layer of humor that helps bring this world to childish life. 

“Dog Man” is dizzying and very very funny, in an honest kind of kiddy way that’s almost impossible to be replicated by anyone older than 8. But Peter Hastings has taken Dav Pilkey’s beloved “supa cop” and thrown him onto the big screen in all his scribbly glory. For as erratic as the pacing is, it can’t spoil a thoroughly funny and authentically childish film that makes for an excellent way to spend 80 minutes at the movies. 3.5/5

The Reel Life's Year in Film: Best of 2024

Join me in celebrating this year in film as I count down my top 10 films of 2024, as well as highlighting my most surprising, best actor, and best actress, and other individual awards.

One of Them Days - Review: A Buddy Comedy That Pays the Bills

January has proven itself to be a theatrical dead zone for years given most studios tendencies to dump films either poorly received or that they think just won’t make money in any other month. Yet, there’s also plenty of films released during that month that buck the trend; not only is it when a lot of awards buzz films tend to expand to wide release, but there’s also the likes of “Cloverfield,” “M3GAN,” “Scream (2022),” “Split,” “Bad Boys For Life,” “The Grey,” and plenty more. Now, one more can get added to that list, and it's also the first theatrically released Hollywood R-rated comedy in quite a while. Plus, it's good. 

“One of Them Days” follows two best friends: diner waitress Dreux Jones, played by Keke Palmer (“Akeelah and the Bee,” “Nope”), and aspiring artist Alyssa, played by SZA in her film debut, who find themselves in trouble after Alyssa’s on-and-off boyfriend Keshawn, played by Joshua Neal, takes the money they’d set aside for rent. With only a few hours to pay, the duo run around L.A. attempting to make money, while also trying to escape from Keshawn’s new girlfriend Berniece, played by Aziza Scott (“Home Before Dark”), and getting Dreux to her interview for a new job as a diner franchisee. 

There’s plenty of material and humor here that echoes producer Issa Rae’s (“The Lovebirds,” “Insecure”) hit HBO series “Insecure,” from the believable absurdity to even the people involved with the production: the film is written by Syreeta Singleton (“Insecure,” “Rap Sh!t”) and directed by Lawrence Lamont (“Rap Sh!t”), with Singleton working with Rae on “Insecure” and both working with her on “Rap Sh!t.” There’s an even flow to the humor that’s helped by the film’s self-imposed ticking timer, but also because Singleton and Lamont make sure things always boil down to Druex and Alyssa’s friendship. 

It’s the kind of comedy that comes from their relationship. It’s funny because you’re getting to know them and watching them evolve throughout the film. Therefore, it's bolstered immensely by two very funny lead performances. Palmer is an absolute standout, continuing her conquest of the modern studio comedy market. She brings the pathos for the handful of scenes that require it, but she’s clearly a comedic actor in her element, even if she can be even better when she’s the one cut loose to swing from the rafters. SZA does manage to hold her own, working as the ditsier, more laidback friend between the two. She does nail the role, and the energy and chemistry between the pair is infectious and provides enough of a reason to see the film. 

Much of the film’s supporting cast is filled with a who’s who of black comedic actors, from Katt Williams (“Friday After Next,” “The Boondocks”) and Janelle James (“Abbott Elementary,” “Central Park”) to Lil Rey Howery (“The Carmichael Show,” “Get Out”) and Vanessa Bell Calloway (“Coming to America,” “Southside with You”). They all do their jobs well, with Williams being the only real standout amongst them. Like most comedies like this, they pepper the numerous scenes and give our two leads other even weirder characters to bounce off of. Maude Apatow (“euphoria,” “The King of Staten Island”) also pops up as Druex and Alyssa’s new neighbor Bethany, the only white person in their apartment complex, and she proves to be a standout as well, especially in the film’s third act.

There’s a slight bit of absurdity filtering through the behind the scenes of the film as well. The musical score, composed by Chanda Dancy (“Blink Twice,” “Devotion”), and cinematography from Ava Berkofsky (“Share,” “The Sky is Everywhere”) provide just enough variety and twists on the genre to keep things playful. The cinematography in particular feels slightly bent in a way that highlights the L.A. craziness without drawing direct attention to it.

“One of Them Days” is an excellent way to kick off 2025 for film. It’s a fun buddy comedy with two excellent leads that keep things moving fast and funny. Palmer is already a star, with this film proving it even more so, and SZA may just be a new comedic star in the making. By basing the comedy in their friendship and allowing it to filter through them, the film lifts itself slightly above the genre, proving to be more than just another R-rated comedy. 4/5 

A Complete Unknown - Review: A Routine Tale of an Enigmatic Man

 

Even with a genre as well-worn as the music biopic, there is still something interesting about each one as it comes along. Sometimes it’s a morbid fascination, when the material seems to be the worst kind of fit. And other times it's a legitimate fascination with a director or writer returning to a genre they helped to popularize. “A Complete Unknown” is the latter, as co-writer/director James Mangold (“Ford v. Ferrari,” “Logan (2017)”) previously directed one of the best examples of the genre before its oversaturation with “Walk the Line.” 

Set in 1961, the film follows Bob Dylan, played by Timothée Chalamet (“Dune: Part One,” “Little Women (2019)”), as he slowly begins to establish a life and career for himself in New York after meeting Pete Seeger, played by Edward Norton (“Fight Club,” “Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery”), and a hospitalized Woody Guthrie, played by Scoot McNairy (“Argo (2012),” “Halt & Catch Fire”). While living there, he meets and begins to date Sylvie Russo, played by Elle Fanning (“The Great,” “Super 8”), and begins to work with and have an affair with Joan Baez, played by Monica Barbaro (“Top Gun: Maverick,” “FUBAR”). His career continues to grow, and the film chronicles his arrival in New York through his 1965 Newport Folk Festival electric performance. 

Despite not originating many of the cliches of the music biopic genre, it’s easy to imagine Mangold might be hesitant to return to the genre given how mercilessly it has been mocked since “Walk the Line” was released. Hell, one year later the genre satire “Walk Hard” was released, taking title, visual, and structural inspiration from “Walk the Line.” So, it’s refreshing to see that, on some level, Mangold and co-writer Jay Cocks (“Strange Days,” “Gangs of New York”) seem to have made a film structured like a typical music biopic with a lead character completely uninterested in being in such a film. Because of this, it allows Chalamet and them to examine just how little Dylan fit into a typical musician persona. 

Speaking of, Chalamet’s performance is nothing sort of stellar. What could have bene a simple impression instead feels like a full-bodied inhabiting of Dylan’s personality and ideals. The casting for the entire film is far closer to getting personalities right than it is about getting looks right, and it benefits the film greatly. It allows the emotion and energy to come through the performances and to let it all really sing, pun entirely intended. Norton and Fanning are great, although Fanning does get saddled with a bit of the typical “doe eyed girlfriend” trope, but she works well within those constraints.  

McNairy gets off slightly worse just given a lesser amount of screentime, and some of the character actors rounding out the cast simply fill in archetypes typical of this kind of movie (the financially anxious agent, the recording manager who exists just to say “who wrote that song”, the concert manager angry at the new kid’s new sound, etc.). Barbaro absolutely excels. Her fierce musical talent and singing voice mixes with a calm perspective that she uses to confront Dylan’s attitude. She stands out in virtually every scene, and the ones between herself and Chalamet are the best in the entire film. They grab hold of your attention and never let go. 

What “A Complete Unknown” is is a film that sets up various genre cliches and staples, before slowly showing that one of the greatest musicians of all time simply doesn’t fit into those boxes. Dylan doesn’t want to go electric for sales, he wants to just because he wants to. He doesn’t want to not play the hits because he’s told to play them, he just doesn’t want to. Chalamet’s performance builds this enigmatic persona within these constraints to create a film that’s almost screaming to break out of its pre-described restrictions. However, as much as it's clear the film and character want to break out of them, they never actually do. It’s certainly better than the average and most cliched music biopics, and the absolute best we’ve gotten this year, but it still checks plenty of typical boxes, even as it does avoid most of them. 

On a technical front, Mangold’s crew brings this time period to life with staggering beautiful camera work and costuming. Cinematographer Phedon Papamichael (“Nebraska,” “The Trial of the Chicago 7”) lets the time period crackle with a thin layer of grain and a heavy use of shadows. The film’s lighting is perfection and draws attention to itself without ever overshadowing the actors or other material on screen. Of particular interest is the costuming as well, with department head Arianne Phillips (“Walk the Line,” “Once Upon a Time... In Hollywood”) filling out each performer with costumes that not only look the part but effortlessly blend in with their character’s personas. Speaking of those characters, the film’s musical performances are exceptional. Each one is not just a showcase of the timeless songs, but of the performers who made them special and the actors now bringing them to life. There’s a reverence in these moments that makes them feel almost like a sermon, a moment of deep respect for these figures, and it’s not hard to imagine the film being a half-hour or more longer just to add more musical moments. 

“A Complete Unknown” is a fantastic showcase for its lead actor, its central subject, and the closest a mainstream music biopic has gotten to breaking out of the mold in recent memory. Chalamet and Barbaro lead a film packed full of great performances, cinematography, and musical moments that keeps an exceptional reverence without ever sanitizing the time or central subject. It hasn’t broken out of the genre box that Mangold himself helped to popularize over fifteen years ago, but you can see so many moments where it’s pushing at the edges. 4/5 

Better Man - Review: Making a Monkey Out of the Music Biopic Genre

 

When “Rocketman” was released, many acclaimed the film specifically for taking a more fantastical approach to the typical musical biopic genre, blending the real-life events of Elton John’s life with musical numbers that clearly did not happen. It’s easy to see that film as a precursor to “Better Man,” as it also takes a fantastical, borderline satirical, swing on the genre while still folding in plenty of real-life events for its subject. The big twist it employs though? Well, there’s a monkey. 

The film follows the life of Robbie Williams, played by Jonno Davies (“Hunters”) with Williams himself narrating the film. Raised by his mother Janet and grandmother Betty, played by Kate Mulvany (“The Merger,” “Hunters”) and Alison Steadman (“Gavin & Stacey,” “Life is Sweet”) respectively, in Stoke-on-Trent in the 1980s, Robbie struggles with his relationship with absent father Peter, played by Steve Pemberton (“Psychoville,” “The League of Gentlemen’s Apocalypse”), and eventually becomes a member of the boyband Take That after auditioning for manager Nigel Martin-Smith, played by Damon Herriman (“Mr. Inbetween,” “Justified”). After his outlandish behavior and drug addiction causes him to be kicked out of the band, he forms a relationship with All Saints member Nicole Appleton, played by Raechelle Banno (“Home and Away,” “Pandora”), before starting his own whirlwind solo career that culminates in a stint in rehab to gain control over his addictions and mental health issues before reconciling with his friends and family. Sounds pretty average for a music biopic film, except for the fact that Williams is portrayed as a CGI anthropomorphic monkey. 

That’s the big angle for the film, and there’s never a moment where you see the "real" Robbie Williams. It is, by all accounts, the way Williams sees himself, which he himself admits at the beginning of the film. It is an admittedly bold move, and while it can come across as shallow in the trailers, it somehow works. Part of it is the fact that no one ever addresses it in any way, fueling his own vision of himself. But the other major aspect is the film in general takes such a heightened approach to the genre that it just blends into the background. Davies does both the voice of Williams in all but the final scene and the performance capture, and he embodies his brutish, youthful arrogance well, crafting a portrayal that’s easy to hate but also intoxicatingly complex. 

The rest of the cast are all great, but fairly routine for these kinds of roles. Mulvany and Steadman are a great empathetic presence, with just enough sass to prevent them from becoming rote in their portrayals. Pemberton does some great work as a sleazy father for Williams, and he rides a thin line between being selfish and also wanting the best for his son, in his own twisted way. Herriman and Banno do the most with their minor roles, accenting the journey Williams is on while also carving out great character performances of their own. 

While the visual effects on monkey Robbie are absolutely fantastic, as they should be given what they want to pull off, they’re surprisingly not the star of the show. Co-writer/Director Michael Gracey (“The Greatest Showman”) stages each of the film’s musical numbers with the energy of an individual music video, but they all tie together into a unique and cohesive fantastical whole. The much publicized “Rock DJ” segment on Regent Street is a feast for the eyes and an energetic highlight of a film with plenty of highs. Gracey and co-writers Simon Gleeson (“Love Never Dies (2012)”) and Oliver Cole keep the tale flowing quickly, breezing through Williams’s life with specific detail. They never dwell on the obvious moments, instead letting the more satirical elements shine through. It mostly all comes from playing it straight with the concept, never winking at the audience despite the literal monkey they’re making of Williams’s life and career. Plenty of times that would otherwise feel cliched in other films of the genre are replaced with interpretive musical segments that seek to communicate the feeling of the moment rather than spell out the specific events as they existed. 

Yes, somehow the “CGI monkey music biopic” exists, works, and works better than most other films in this genre. By playing it all straight, embracing Williams’s own admitted rudeness, and leaning into the fantastical and borderline satirical, Gracey and crew have delivered a film unlike any other this year. It’s hard to say if this is the kind of film that will garner more fans for Robbie or will be remembered alongside the greats of the genre. But it’s certainly not a film you’ll forget anytime soon. 4.5/5 

The Fire Inside - Review: A Spitfire In and Out of the Ring

 

After years of working with other directors as a cinematographer and directing various television projects, Rachel Morrison (“Fruitvale Station,” “Black Panther”) is making her film directorial debut by telling the true story of Claressa “T-Rex” Shields, along with her coach Jason Crutchfield. It’s easy to see the film as just another inspirational sports movie, but what Morrison and writer Barry Jenkins (“Moonlight,” “If Beale Street Could Talk”) do with the material is a lot like Shields herself: something that seems like it could be ordinary, but far from it. 

The film follows Claressa “T-Rex” Shields, played by Ryan Destiny (“Star,” “Oracle (2023)”), as she trains with her coach Jason Crutchfield, played by Brian Tyree Henry (“Atlanta,” “Widows”), to compete for the Olympic gold medal in Women’s Middleweight boxing at the 2012 Summer Olympics. Despite her historic win, Sheilds returns home with no sponsorships and little money, resulting in her challenging the perception of female athletes and their compensation, especially in sports as male dominated as boxing. 

Where Morrison and Jenkins smartly work to push the film and Sheilds’s story beyond that of a typical “inspirational” sports biopic is by zeroing in on her life back home before and after the 2012 Olympics. As a result, it's far less of a film about her achieving her first Gold Medal and instead about the indifference the sports industry has towards her. In the last act of the film, she very bluntly says “money is recognition,” laying the film’s central thesis bare in front of the audience. It’s not hard to see another version of this film that stops at the 2012 Olympics or glosses over these financial hardships in favor of skipping to her 2016 Olympic win. 

That decision not to skip that material is not only what makes the film feel different from other films of its ilk, but it's also what gives Destiny such meaty material to dive into. She balances Shields’s fiery spirit without letting it get out of control, crafting a heroine who’s easy to root for. She and Jenkins never tamp down her teenaged life though, as the film is quick to reiterate that, for all her accomplishments, she is still just a kid. It makes for an engaging dramatic balancing act that’s further bolstered by Henry’s excellent mentor role. He’s quickly becoming a chameleon of an actor, going from playing menacing roles to mentoring one, and here is no exception. Their banter and relationship is the heart of the entire film, and it's often just as thrilling to watch them together as it is to watch Shields in the ring. 

Morrison’s background as a cinematographer helps to elevate much of the material here, as it’s all framed with a more careful eye than you’d expect. She works with cinematographer Rina Yang (“Nanny,” “Sitting in Limbo”) to frame the action in the ring with high energy without losing track of their subjects. Tamar-kali’s (“Mudbound,” “Shirley (2020)”) musical score keeps this tense as well, flowing between more grounded dramatic music for the film’s more serious moments and higher energy tunes for the fights. It keeps the pacing quick as well, making sure everything moves along smoothly as Morrison and Jenkins tell this tale. 

“The Fire Inside” works well within its genre constraints and works best when it stretches beyond them. By choosing to not stop with Sheild’s Olympic wins and instead focus arguably more on her struggle to bolster future female athletes, Morrison gives the film a unique voice and story that sets it apart from other boxing and sports films of its ilk. Jenkins’s script keeps things emotional and true, and Destiny’s performance alongside Henry is the heart of the entire movie. It’s a fantastic crowd-pleaser that will draw cheers and tears in equal measure, while also teaching the genre a bit about when to stop telling the story and when to keep going. 4.5/5 

Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl - Review: Attack of the Gnomes

Way back in 1989, Nick Park’s (“Chicken Run,” “Creature Comforts”) dynamic plasticine duo set the world on fire with some delightful antics in a search for cheese that took them all the way to the moon. Now, over thirty-five years and pounds of cheese later, crazed inventor Wallace and his silent and daring dog Gromit continue with their simple, extremely English adventures in their latest tale, their second feature-length film, and first direct sequel with a returning villainous force who’s seeking “Vengeance Most Fowl!” 

The film follows Wallace, voiced by Ben Whitehead taking over from Peter Sallis after his death in 2017, and Gromit dealing with Wallace’s latest invention: an AI-powered robotic “smart gnome” device known as Norbot, voiced by Reece Shearsmith (“The League of Gentlemen,” “Psychoville”). As perturbed as Gromit is by the new robotic companion, things seem innocent enough, until Feathers McGraw, whom Wallace and Gromit previously foiled in 1993’s “The Wrong Trousers,” returns with the intention to use Norbot for revenge against the pair. Meanwhile, Police Chief Inspector Albert Mackintosh, voiced by Peter Kay (“24 Hour Party People,” “Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit”), and the overly eager Police Constable Mukherjee, voiced by Lauren Patel (“Everybody's Talking About Jamie (2021)”), find themselves targeting Wallace and Gromit after a series of robberies seem to point to the elderly inventor as the culprit. 

Directed by Park and Merlin Crossingham (“Morph”) and written by Park and Mark Burton (“Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit,” “Shaun the Sheep: The Movie”), “Vengeance Most Fowl” absolutely recaptures the spirit and soul that has existed within this series for decades now. Despite only having a new adventure every so often, Wallace and Gromit feel like old friends. The warmth to Wallace’s voice, rendered expertly here by Whitehead, and house make it feel as though you’re not watching a film, but visiting an elderly relative: things are slightly kooky, but you still feel right at home. Gromit and Feathers are silent movie delights, with more emotion in their clay faces than most blockbuster actors today. Aardman really has nailed the look and feel of this kind of barely moving silent character, with Feathers in particular still managing to be a hilarious menace throughout, despite not even having eyebrows to emote with. 

Given the Aardman has spent virtually their entire history crafting literal hand-made films, it's no surprise to see Wallace’s inventions, particularly the AI-powered Norbot, take a slightly different bend in our age of AI powered creative tools. Park and Burton don’t turn things into a full “Westworld” style experience, but more than ever before, they zero in on the harms this technology can cause. An early scene in Gromit’s garden is an exceptionally funny bit of visual humor but also works as an effective thesis statement for the film itself. Having all this communicated via characters molded from clay, with visible thumbprints on their heads, just reinforces the material far better than any digital techniques ever could. 

The ever-so-slightly heavier material never distracts from the film's buckets of charm and humor though. The duo is as funny as ever, with gags ranging from slight blink-and-you'll-miss-it moments to extended bits of visual humor. The musical score from Lorne Balfe () and Julian Nott () keeps things lively and classic as well, and it all can feel like a tribute to the entire series. It not only draws things most centrally in on Wallace’s inventing but also contains characters from “Curse of the Were-Rabbit,” the aforementioned villain from “The Wrong Trousers,” and references to the other shorts as well. It feels like a swansong for the pair of besties in the best way possible. 

The film is not without a few troubled spots though. For as effortless as the hand-molded animation and characters feel, it does mean that the handful of all digital elements, such as green-screened backgrounds and water, have an uncanny aspect to them. It’s as if, in this world of imperfect skin textures and details, they look too clean. While Mukherjee and Mackintosh are great additions, voiced wonderfully as well, they never capture the exact same charm or feeling as Wallace or Gromit do, leading their sections to feel like they’re the B team. Most uncannily though, despite the feature-length runtime, the grander scale, and return of Feathers, the film itself feels remarkably small in its scale. 

It leaves things feeling a bit watered down, which is a shame as this does feel in many aspects like a last hurrah for the titular duo. Of course, as long as there are misadventures to be had, Wallace and Gromit could go on until the end of time. But if they don’t, despite a handful of small hiccups, “Vengeance Most Fowl” does feel like a swansong for the duo. It keeps all of the classic British humor and visual gags, while also bringing back their arguably most iconic foe, and wrapping it in a tale more relevant than anything they’ve done before, without losing an ounce of its charm. 4.5/5