Dear Evan Hansen - Review

Everything you’ve heard is, unfortunately, true. “Dear Evan Hansen,” the film adaptation of the Grammy and six-time Tony award winning musical that took the world by storm when it premiered not that long ago in 2016, is quite terrible. Baffling so, in fact. It’s a bewildering film, one with what seemed like such an excellent cast and director at the helm and such ripe source material.

That right there is the perfect place to start. “Dear Evan Hansen,” as a concept, has always been fraught with controversy and criticism. For those unaware, the short version of the plot is that it follows Evan Hansen, an awkward teen struggling with mental illness, who’s letter to himself, an assignment from his therapist, is taken by a kid at his school who then takes his own life. His parents find Evan’s letter on his person and believe Evan and him to have been best friends and Evan lies to them, saying that they were best friends.

It is a lot to take in, and under lesser hands the emotional weight of the film would cause it to buckle almost immediately. You would think then, that director Stephen Chbosky (“The Perks of Being a Wallflower,” “Wonder”) who previously directed two films wrought with difficult emotional subject material and even wrote the original “Perks” novel would be the perfect choice to helm a film dealing with these topics.

Instead, he seems to botch the execution at nearly every turn. The resulting film has a bizarre tone that somehow plays its emotions far too big and yet also goes for such a toned down realism that it makes the inherent fantastical nature of the musical genre seem to painfully awkward. Despite its many flaws, 2019’s “Cats” had songs that played over grand sets and across multiple locations in a span of minutes. “Dear Evan Hansen” is a showcase of the exact opposite; a second act emotional moment has Evan awkwardly singing and crying while standing in a dining room, not moving for almost 4 minutes.

Casting is a place where the film seems to neither succeed nor inherently fail. Ben Platt (“Pitch Perfect,” The Politician”) has received more than his fair share of criticism for appearing far to old to play the film version of the character her originated on Broadway, and while he can still sing, he never tones his emotions down for the screen. Broadway doesn’t have the ability to close in on someone’s face like film can, so an actor naturally has to act bigger to communicate to the entire theater. Platt knows how to do that, yet never tones his performance down to compensate for when the camera is 3 inches from his face instead of yards away.

Amy Adams (“Enchanted,” “Arrival”) and Julianna Moore (“Boogie Nights,” “Still Alice”) deserve sainthood for their performances as they are clearly trying to do the best they can with the terrible screenplay they’ve been given. Adams acts the crap out of a role that has her doing little more than sitting around and looking sad about her dead son, and Moore’s character is almost borderline absent from both the film and her son, Evan’s, life. Its baffling that she says “I didn’t know you were hurting” in the third act to a son she reminded earlier in the film to go to his therapist appointments and take his medication.

The rest of the cast is servicable at best and forgettable at worst. Kaitlyn Dever (“Booksmart,” “Unbelievable”), Nik Dodani (“Escape Room,” “Atypical”), and Danny Pino (“Mayans M.C.,” “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit”) are all perfectly fine, nothing bad but nothing that stands out or makes the best of the bad material. Amandla Stenberg (“The Hate U Give,” “The Hunger Games”) meanwhile feels grossly miscast as Alana Beck, student leader who seeks Evan’s help to establish a charity in Connor’s name after his death. While the character is meant to be a leader who’s also soft spoken, Stenberg plays her with such a closed off and hushed whisper of a voice, its like watching an actor being held hostage.

Without a doubt, the film’s biggest and most glaring flaw is its overall script. Yes, the moment to moment dialogue can be painfully eye-roll inducing, but the overall plot has a massive and fundamental change compared to the original musical that effectively kneecaps the film from the very start. Steven Levenson (“Masters of Sex,” “Fosse/Verdon”), who also wrote the book for the musical, has cut out four songs from the latter half of the film. This sort of decision wouldn’t normally be an issue, these sorts of things happen all the time with adaptation, however its the songs in question that are the issue.

Its hard to say who’s decision exactly this was, but the four songs cut are ones that make a definitive statement on Evan and his decision. They show his best friend arguing with him and forming a definitive stance on how what he’s done is horrible, there’s a similar song with his mother as well, and they basically serve as the thesis statement for the material, showing that yes, despite being the main character and growing from this experience, you should not think Evan is a “good person” at all. The confrontational scene and song wherein Evan’s best friend chews him out and effectively ends their friendship over his selfish decision is gone. In its place, Evan’s friend looks at a social media post Evan made on his phone and stares into the middle distance, sighing a sad sigh.

The fact that the film has cut these moments make it feel wildly awkward and inappropriate. Frankly, it reduces the story to one wherein a teenager lies about knowing a dead kid, lies to his family, tells the truth, tries to get to know the kid on a surface level, and the sits back and says “well, I sure learned my lesson” and smiles at the blue sky. It’s, frankly, disgusting.

This hasn’t even touched on the myriad of small technical issues. The cinematography is far too zoomed in most of the time, the film’s pacing is absolutely glacial, lacking any kind of lightness the musical genre should inherently have, and the entire film is shot with such a bizarrely gray color palette that it borders on just being black and white.

“Dear Evan Hansen” is a perfect storm of terrible film making. So often we get films that are bad from a storytelling perspective and fine from a technical one and vice versa. This is both at once, colliding with such violent apathy that it becomes baffling. If you’re not familiar with the material, you’re jaw will likely constantly hit the floor as the plot continues to become more inane and bizarre. If you are familiar with the material, the only reason you should see this film is to watch the unknowings’ jaws hit the floor. Its as if the kid who still thinks Romeo and Juliet is a love story made a Romeo and Juliet movie. Watching is only advisable with copious alcohol and friends to riff back and forth with. “Dear Evan Hansen” is the rare career low for literally everyone involved, a cacophonous of boring directorial decisions and poor adaptation decisions, a film fueled by nepotism and bad ideas. 1/5

The Eyes of Tammy Faye (2021) - Review

 

Given the odd trajectory of her life, someone like Michael Showalter (“Wet Hot American Summer,” “The Big Sick”) would seem like the absolute perfect choice to direct a film about Tammy Faye. Not only is she a bit of an oddball in her overall personality, but the televangelist went from being one of the biggest television personalities ever to being nearly penniless, to eventually being reborn as a beacon of kindness and LGBTQA+ icon.

Not exactly the kind of life you’d expect from someone who got their start doing puppetry in a Midwestern town, and the film does maintain a bit of the stranger than fiction air her life eventually took on. Yet, unfortunately, Showalter doesn’t embrace these qualities as much as one might expect from him, leading to a far more pedestrian film than one might expect from either the source material or the people involved.

Let there be no debate though, Jessica Chastain (“Zero Dark Thirty,” “Molly’s Game”) is an absolute knockout, delivering what might be one of the best performances of her career. The entire film basically traces the path of Tammy’s loss of innocence to a kind of rebirth of it. Chastain manages to keep the tricky balance of it all in check; Tammy’s has a certain air of innocence about her, bordering on naveté, but she isn’t stupid, and Chastain nor Showalter or writer Abe Sylvia (“Dead to Me,” “Nurse Jackie”) stoop to making her some kind of idiot savant.

Opposite her is Andrew Garfield (“The Social Network,” “Hacksaw Ridge”) also delivering an exceptional performance as her borderline abusive husband Jim Bakker. He has an air of sinister-ness about him, especially opposite the innocence of Tammy’s good will. He’s the devil to her angel, clearly playing the people watching their shows for all their worth. He’s manipulative and gaslights Tammy at every corner, and Garfield plays it to a T creating a deliciously malevolent counterpart to her sweetness, making it a performance you love to hate.

The rest of the cast do their jobs well enough, but none stand out like Garfield and Chastain. Cherry Jones (“24,” “Transparent”) plays Tammy’s mother with the same level of sweetness as Chastain, but still acknowledging the idiocy of Tammy’s blind faith in Jim. Vincent D’Onofrio (“Full Metal Jacket,” “Men in Black”) plays Jerry Falwell, the closest thing the film has to an antagonist besides Jim. While he’s mostly fine, he lacks the magnetic malevolence that Garfield has, instead going to a more downplayed antagonistic force.

No one else apart from them really stands out, and it speaks to a much larger issue with the film overall. It presents various events, characters, and moments from Tammy’s life, not so much structured like a film but like a memoir. The material doesn’t have a three-act structure, but the film seems to be trying to force it into one.

It’s also remarkably downplayed at times. Yes, there are moments of pomp and circumstance and they not only play marvelously well, but they’re the best parts of the film, showcasing Showalter’s strengths with the ridiculous and putting Chastain and Garfield’s performances on full display. It's almost an achievement then that a large majority of the film is just kind of boring. It moves through so many plot points that they all start to blend together. It's a textbook case of showing us a real person’s life without saying anything about them or the events.

Like a delicious candy bar, the film’s best bits are right at the center. The film’s first act feels like it can’t wait to get started and therefore feels pretty rushed. Meanwhile its third act, post bankruptcy, feels very meandering, like it's just waiting for things to end. When Tammy and Jim are surrounded by the glitz and glamour and money and betrayal of their television empire, that’s clearly where Showalter is most comfortable and it results in the best part of the film being those moments.

“The Eyes of Tammy Faye” is a somewhat boring, by the numbers biopic with moments of glory overshadowed by some rough pacing and tonal work. It's the kind of project that clearly doesn’t know what it wants to be. Is it an extravagant truth-is-stranger-than-fiction story or is it a down to earth realistic portrayal of this woman’s life? Neither, resulting in a somewhat dull film with a fantastic middle, that is at least propped up by two stellar lead performances throughout. 3.5/5

@Zola - Review

At the risk of sounding like a broken record, “@Zola” is based off of an insanely viral series of tweets from way back in 2015 and the subsequent Rolling Stone article written about a month later. The tweets took over the internet for a brief period, becoming one of the few universally viral things that truly everyone had heard about in some capacity.

It's worth mentioning this not only for those unaware, but also because “@Zola” the film has a lot in common with those original tweets. Most importantly, it retains the fierce and controlled perspective that one gets from someone’s personal twitter feed and remains an uncompromised vision of one hell of a road trip.

Taylour Page (“Boogie,” “White Boy Rick”) is Zola, a part-time waitress/dancer who meets Stefani, played by Riley Keough, who, after knowing her for just one day, invites her on a trip down to Florida with her, her boyfriend, and her roommate. What is pitched as a weekend “hoe trip” to dance at a high-end strip club for some quick high volume cash quickly goes off the rails thanks to Stefani and those around her never telling Zola the whole, if any, truth.

Zola is an assured, confident protagonist. Page lends her a commanding charisma without robbing her of the confused vulnerability one would have in a situation this bizarre. She is the way we, the audience, see this tale, and Page and co-writer/director Janicza Bravo (“Forever,” “Lemon”) make sure the entire film is her story via methods like voice overs, freeze frames, and texts all over the screen.

Page’s performance is excellent, but not brashedly so. The performance that assuredly is, and the one most will likely walk away from the film talking about, is Riley Keough (“Under the Silver Lake,” “American Honey”) as Stefani, the somewhat antagonist, obliviously narcissistic dancer who ropes Zola into this entire journey. Her performance is one of bafflement; clearly there can’t be someone in the world who’s this ignorant to the way they treat other people. Keough’s mannerisms and way of speaking are clearly meant to be a portrait of an ignorant white girl with a blaccent, appropriating a culture she may have grown up around and may consider herself a part of, but can only tangentially be and this creates a palpable air of uncomfortability.

It's a purposeful uncomfortability though, not one that would arise if, say, a film with this kind of character wasn’t written and directed by a black woman. Keough and Bravo play with this idea, is she this antagonistic narcissist or is she actually aware of her actions? Some of her final moments in the film are haunting because of the toying nature of the reveal of whether she is this person or if it's just another mask she wears. Her boyfriend Derrek, played by Nicholas Braun (), is more one note but is still an interesting character as we watch him twist and turn through this bizarre journey, perhaps falling back a bit too much on the apathetic personality Braun has become known for from works like “Succession.”

Meanwhile, Colman Domingo (“Candyman (2021),” “euphoria”) is positively electrifying unsettling as X, Stefani’s roommate. Revealing exactly what he gets up to in the film would spoil too much, but he’s played with unhinged joy by Domingo. Taking note of the scenes when he’s smiling like a gleeful child and contrasting those with what’s actually going on in those moments can be truly haunting. Yet, he has this sort of controlling charisma about him that makes it at least easy to understand why Stefani still hangs around him so much. If nothing else, he proves to be a fascinating foil for Zola as the pair are clearly the two smartest people on this trip and butt heads constantly.

Throughout, Bravo and co-writer Jeremy O. Harris (“Slave Play,” “Black Exhibition”) frame the film with numerous moments of social media framings and graphics that border on elegant. It's a great way of bridging the gap between the social media origins of the story and the realistic nature of the film lens. One extended sequence swipes through a variety of men as if one is swiping through a series of photos, and big moments are punctuated by the sound the Twitter app makes when you send a tweet, implying that these are when Zola sent one tweet and began the next. The simplest and also arguably the coolest is the usage of the Apple iOS font and clock at the top middle of the screen to punctuate act breaks, making the entire film look as if it’s being watched through an iPhone or iPad.

Bravo and Harris even get meta at multiple moments, having characters talk directly to the camera to communicate certain perspectives and punctuate important moments. One big moment about halfway through the film even switches to a completely different perspective brought in from Reddit, further communicating the different experiences social media can portray about the same events, and how blatantly shallow and false some of those perspectives can be.

As fascinating and engrossing as “@Zola” is to watch, it does have one big issue: the film, by all accounts, doesn’t fit into any typical storytelling structure. There isn’t really an act structure to speak of, nor are there typical character arcs or “lessons learned.” Not that a movie needs to have these things to be enjoyable, but it doesn’t always feel purposeful. Some moments do, the ending is particularly masterful in this regard; it abruptly ends, fading away without explaining anything, much like 90% of someone’s life would be unanswered for if you saw it through the lens of social media. Yet, not all of its storytelling oddities feel this purposeful.

It’s hard to be upset though when everything that’s happening is this bizarre and engaging. Bravo and cinematographer Ari Wegner (“Lady Macbeth,” “In Fabric”) have crafted a film of a certain kind of beauty, using the same slow shots and lights that dazzle that one might associate with an old Hollywood production shot on soundstages. It lends everything a very artificial and almost fairytale aesthetic, leaning even further into the glamorized facade of this social media inspired tale.

“@Zola” is a truly unique film. It puts itself out there to be seen, plain and simple, and it doesn’t give a single shit about how you feel about it, structural anomalies be damned. This unflinching perspective, combined with some truly intoxicating performances and a heavy, smart use of social media elements means that, like the tweets, this isn’t a story likely to be forgotten anytime soon. 4.5/5

Kate (2021) - Review

 

There is nothing original about director Cedric Nicolas-Troyan’s (“Maleficent,” “The Huntsman: Winter’s War”) new action thriller “Kate.” It's an amalgamation of previous films like “John Wick,” “Crank,” “Atomic Blonde,” and many many more. Having David Leitch as a producer certainly lends some authenticity to everything, and it delivers just enough ballistic action and a killer lead performance to be worth your time.

Kate, played with full bodied gusto by Mary Elizabeth Winstead (“Scott Pilgrim vs. The World,” “Birds of Prey”) is dying. After a hit gone wrong, she’s been poisoned and has 24 hours to find and kill those responsible. Throw in an older and wiser mentor figure, played by Woody Harrelson (“Zombieland,” “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri”), and a young smartass Kate’s forced to drag along, played by newcomer Miku Martineau, and you have “Kate.”

Writer Umair Aleem (“Extraction (2015)”) doesn’t inject the plot with anything particularly new. Rather, the smaller character moments and details are what give the film its sense of personality. The neon-drenched nights of Tokyo are a great backdrop to watch Winstead deliver the film’s one liners and, despite some serious Yakuza depictions thrown in, the plot just exists to get us from one action sequence to another.

Not that Winstead isn’t giving it her all. Every scene that passes, she becomes progressively more covered in blood, sweat, wounds, and viscera. It's the kind of full bodied performance you know she must’ve had an absolute blast with and it shows. Despite being a blank slate on paper, most of the memorability and personality of Kate comes from Winstead herself.

Miku Martineau isn’t as strong of a presence, but given this is her first film role, it's easy to give her a pass. She develops some great rapport with Winstead by the film’s end, and their friendship is the heart of the film. She just takes too long to progress from an annoyance to a friend of Kate’s.

Harrelson isn’t much to write home about. He’s fine and serves the purpose of the role, but doesn’t add anything. Meanwhile, Jun Kunimura (“The Naked Director,” “The Wailing”) is a highlight. His all too brief presence is a wonderful performance as Yakuza boss Kijima. He’s clearly taking the role very seriously, never letting a smile crack or mugging to the camera for a moment.

The action is going to be what people watch “Kate” for, and despite a slow start, once Kate is poisoned, then all bets are off. Debris flies everywhere, as does blood and viscera, and everytime someone dies while a neon Japanese character dances outside a window or a K-pop song plays over the radio is a wonderful tonal juggling act.

Winstead, as stated, is getting the absolute shit kicked out of herself for the entirety of the film, and this makes each hit land a bit harder. Like Leitch’s other films, it's clear Nicolas-Troyan knows that the action is automatically made better when it's clear the hero is getting hurt too.

“Kate” is a fine afternoon distraction. Is a blood soaked popcorn movie with a killer lead performance and some delightful action. Not much else is under the hood, but there doesn’t need to be. It's clearly inspired by neon-soaked Japanese Yakuza films, and that does lend it an interesting palette, giving “Kate” a bit more memorability than it otherwise would have if it was just a well-executed action flick. 3.5/5

The Card Counter - Review

 

Every director or writer, no matter how long they're in the industry, has that one film they will forever be known for. Sometimes this is a good thing and sometimes it's not. It can lead to a feeling that they’re always trying to recapture lightning in a bottle and it can sometimes feel like they’re constantly putting new spins on the same idea, creating new interpretations in the process.

Paul Schrader (“Taxi Driver,” “The Last Temptation of Christ”), whether you know the name or not, might just be one of the most recognizable voices in modern cinema. After his big break writing films like “Taxi Driver” and “The Last Temptation of Christ,” he’s had a long career both writing movies such as “Raging Bull,” “Bringing Out the Dead,” “Rolling Thunder,” “Mishima,” and “American Gigolo,” as well as directing movies like “American Gigolo,” “Hardcore,” “Patty Hearst,” and “First Reformed.” Clearly, he has a very particular style and vision; one that is on full display, for better or worse, in “The Card Counter.”

Starring Oscar Isaac (“Inside Llewyn Davis,” “Star Wars: The Last Jedi”), “The Card Counter” follows William Tell, a grief stricken former military man who travels the country playing poker after he taught himself to play cards in prison. Along the way he picks up a couple other characters, Tiffany Haddish (“Girls Trip,” “The Last O.G.”) as La Linda, a financial backer for a group of card players and Tye Sheridan (“Ready Player One,” “Mud”) as Cirk, a young kid whose father knew William when they were in the military.

For better or worse, Oscar Isaac’s performance is the reason to watch “The Card Counter.” Schrader is definitely experimenting a bit with camera techniques and some pacing elements, but for the most part everything in the film pales in comparison to Isaac’s commitment to his role. It’s almost as if Schrader found this real person and just surrounded him with actors, as the quality of Issac’s performance makes everyone else seem weaker as a result.

Haddish is doing a fine job most of the time, but some line deliveries give the impression that she’s straddling the line between serious dramatic work and parody of a serious dramatic work. She does a good job in what’s likely her most dramatic role to date, but it isn’t one-hundred-percent convincing and there are a few moments where the cracks show through.

Sheridan is more of a mixed bag. It’s hard to tell what exactly he’s going for, and while he can match Isaac’s intensity and skill when the moment requires it, there are numerous times where it feels as though he’s phoning it in; it's like he’s going along for the ride to all these different casinos just to give fifty-percent of an effort.

While Schrader’s films have never been exceptionally subtle, they’ve ridden the line between the two many times before. And while “Counter” has more than its fair share of unique or well executed ideas, the first time you see William’s hotel room routine is genuinely chilling. However, after decades of making these kinds of movies about tortured, violent men, it just doesn’t have the same effect it once did. Some of the monologues from Issac and imagery such as having the former military man go up against an America obsessed man in a red white and blue tank top who chants “USA” feels extremely on the nose.

Schrader has shown that he can still make excellent, affecting movies, just look at “First Reformed.” But “The Card Counter” feels like more of a phoned in experience. It's not a bad film by any means; it's shot well by cinematographer Alexander Dynan (“First Reformed,” “Dog Eat Dog”) and the cool, chilled musical experience from musician Robert Levon Been helps to set the film’s atmosphere perfectly. It's the kind of movie that’s so cool and cold you expect to pull the blu-ray off the shelf with frost around the edges.

It’s just not as compelling now as it would’ve been in decades prior. Issac’s performance is excellent, and the film’s overall atmosphere is compelling. But Haddish and Sheridan are more spotty in their roles, and overall it seems like the kind of movie that’s just been done numerous times before, not just by Schrader himself. It’s a good movie, just not a great or particularly memorable one. 3/5

Malignant - Review

 

All hail James Wan. The man who may have single handedly brought modern horror to the grisly, overly franchised state it currently rots in will forever be remembered as a singular vision, whether you like it or not. That does mean that, when he gets to do something original, he and his team go absolutely balls to the wall with energy and ambition. Nowhere is there a better example of that than “Malignant.”

Annabelle Wallis (“Peaky Blinders,” “Annabelle”) plays Maddie, dealing with some terrifying visions after suffering a miscarriage and the death of her abusive husband. Eventually the police and Maddie’s sister get more involved and to describe any further than that would be to rob the film of its biggest and juiciest asset.

Wan, who cut his teeth directing the first “Saw” and became a household name with projects like “Insidious” and “The Conjuring”, clearly loves the art of suspense. Yet, “Malignant” displays it differently than in his past films. It's only tangentially a horror movie, skewing closer to a mystery thriller by the end, but Wan lets the suspense hang thick. Its focus isn’t to scare, rather to intrigue. The film’s biggest asset isn’t horror or actors, it's the many twists taken throughout its 110-minute-runtime.

“Well,” you might be thinking to yourself, “a well-constructed twist is great and all, but that doesn’t automatically make for a good story.” And you’d be correct. What Wan has done is brought together a cast and creative team so completely committed to the bonkers nature of what he’s constructed that you’d be hard pressed to notice. Every actor is insanely committed to delivering the batshit dialogue and plot moments with the sincerity of a Shakespeare film.

Maddie Hasson (“We Summon the Darkness,” “Impulse”) plays the insane events of the film with a remarkably straight face as Maddie’s sister Sydney. George Young (“Containment”) is an oddly calm police detective trying to investigate these murders and Michole Briana White (“Spell,” “Songbird”) is his partner, both so stereotypically detective-y that the “Law & Order” tones threaten to ring out every time the entire a scene.

Wan is clearly playing with all the toys Warner Bros has gifted him with over the years. After all, when you’re responsible for one of the most successful horror franchises in years, studios tend to let you spend $40 million creating elaborate house sets, underground Seattle ruins, and the greatest open concept police station ever seen.

Whether or not “Malignant” is any good is basically irrelevant. This is a filmmaker not so much crafting a film as playing with his favorite toys, and gleefully inviting writers Akela Cooper (“Luke Cage,” “Hell Fest”) and Ingrid Bisu (“Toni Erdmann,” “Cafeaua de dimineata”) to join in. Wan is a skilled professional in the horror genre, and it allows him to turn out some truly bonkers events and have us all lap it up eagerly. The dialogue may be stupid, and it might directly contradict itself, but the seriousness with which it carries every moment never wavers.

“Malignant” is the kind of movie that, as soon as credits roll, you want to tell your friends to see just so you can talk about how utterly insane it was. That may not directly speak to its quality, but it speaks to how memorable everything is. You can’t help but admire the craftsmanship on display, such perfection churning out such batshit ideas. It’s the filmmaking equivalent of watching a Michelin star chef being asked to drizzle his Caviar with chocolate sauce and coconut shavings. And he does, and its delicious. 3.5/5

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings - Review

 

As the world turns, so does another Marvel hero make their way from comics to cinema, and with “Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings” we not only have the first new hero to the MCU since “Captain Marvel” but also the MCU’s first Asian hero, a watershed moment that should be greeted with as much enthusiasm as “Black Panther” was in 2018.

Simu Liu (“Kim’s Convenience,” “Blood and Water”) absolutely cements himself as a charismatic, ass kicking presence deserving of a lead superhero film. Even in the scenes that require more dramatic gravitas, the life and fun he’s clearly having never disappears. Likewise, Awkafina (“The Farewell,” “Crazy Rich Asians”) is also great, working as a source of comedic relief but also pulling her own weight when it comes to later film dramatic moments not immediately associated with her acting skills.

Meng’er Zhang is a steely-eyed scene stealer in her film debut as Shang-Chi’s sister Xialing and Michelle Yeoh (“Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,” “Crazy Rich Asians”) delivers a great, if minimal performance as the sibling’s aunt Ying Nan. There are also quite a few scene-stealing cameos that won’t be spoiled here, but for as excellent as the main cast is, no one holds a candle to Tony Leung (“Lust, Caution,” “Hard Boiled”) as Shang-Chi’s father, the antagonistic Wenwu.

His presence is immediately felt, and he delivers the dialogue like its Shakespeare. Given his long history of acting in legendary Hong Kong films like “Chungking Express” and “In the Mood for Love,” the fact that he’s mastered the art of a simple, wordless, menacing presence is no surprise. He’s easily comparable not just to the finest antagonists of the MCU, but to the finest antagonists of the superhero genre, like Alfred Molina’s Doc Ock and Gene Hackman’s Lex Luthor.

Like Molina’s Ock, Wenwu is also not an entirely evil antagonist, hence the term antagonist rather than villain. While he occupies the side of the story opposite the hero, his motivations are easy to understand and empathize with and writers Dave Callaham (“Wonder Woman 1984,” “Zombieland: Double Tap”), Andrew Lanham (“Just Mercy,” “The Kid (2019)”), and writer/director Destin Daniel Cretton (“Short Term 12,” “Just Mercy”) go to great lengths to deliver multiple scenes that allow these characters and their emotional dynamics to be explored.

Though, this is a Marvel movie after all, and while it has more emotional downtime than most, its still an action film first and foremost. Not only does it deliver on the action, but its some of the finest of the franchise to date. Funny how much better things look when they’re edited without cutting 20 times a second. Renowned Cinematographer Bill Pope (“The Matrix,” “Scott Pilgrim vs. The World”) shoots the film following the momentum of the action instead of reacting to it, and it allows for some excellent hand to hand combat that has a smooth choreographed flow to it that is maintained even as the third act busts out the typical Marvel laser show.

“Shang-Chi” is an absolute blast but isn’t perfect. Like some of Marvel’s previous efforts, its emotionally interesting and delivers some terrific performances but wraps both of those elements in a pretty bog-standard plot. The Asian influences dress it up a bit more, with alternate universe creatures and gorgeous mystical elements, but the plot is the same “kid who wants to distance themselves from controlling parent” story that’s been told time and time again.

To his credit, Cretton distances the film from that standardized plot as much as possible using those elements, resulting in a film that’s a blast to just sit back and watch. It goes by in a flash, remaining breezy and light, without sacrificing the slower moments of emotional impact.

“Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings” suffers from some typical Marvel issues but also bounces back with some of the best action in the entire franchise and an absolute stand-out performance from Tony Leung. It’s a breezy and extremely fun ride that doesn’t sacrifice its action for emotions or vice versa. If you never get a second chance at a first impression, it’s a good thing Shang-Chi has made a pretty damn good one. 4/5

Q-Force - Review

 

After what can charitably be described as an abysmal trailer dropped way back in June of 2021, feelings on “Q-Force,” Netflix’s newest adult animated show created by Gabe Liedman (“Broad City,” “PEN15”), it's easy to see why most were dreading its September 2nd premiere date. Exactly what the queer world needed, another show rampant with stereotypes, sex jokes, and “Gee whiz, ain’t they a gay bunch” humor. 

And then something amazing happened. Unlike Netflix’s last attempt to make a queer centric action show, 2018’s awful “Super Drags”, “Q-Force” is a delight that succeeds because of two main conceits: it takes the time to craft some truly likable and endearing characters, and, unlike other adult animated shows, it wants to be nice.

As much as “Archer” and “Bojack Horseman” deserve their critical praise, it can get exhausting for even the most devoted fans to watch episode after episode filled with barbed insults and hostile relationships. What Liedman has brought to his show is a sense of optimism. 

Sure, the team is regularly disrespected by their organization and has had a decade without a legitimate spy case, but they never let it get them down. Their reliance on each other fuels the show's unflinchingly optimistic attitude to the point that most moments don’t go by so much with laughs, but with big grins.

Like one would hope, it also has the benefit of having a cast and crew made up most mostly queer people. Liedman is an openly gay man, most of the behind the scenes crew are queer, and the cast consists of, among others, Sean Hayes (“Will & Grace,” “Sean Saves the World”), Wanda Sykes (“Over the Hedge,” “The New Adventures of Old Christine”), Patti Harrison (“Shrill,” “Together Together”), Matt Rogers (“The Special Without Brett Davis,” “Our Cartoon President”), Laurie Metcalf (“Rosanne,” “Lady Bird”), and Stephanie Beatriz (“Brooklynn Nine-Nine,” “”The LEGO Movie 2: The Second Part””).

Hayes voices Steve Maryweather, a top of his class secret agent who, after using his valedictorian speech at his graduation to come out, is quickly brushed to the side and assigned to West Hollywood without a case for a decade. There he assembles an elite team of other agents, like Deb, voiced by Sykes, the team’s mechanic and driver, Twink, voiced by Rogers, the team’s master of disguise and drag queen, and Stat, voiced by Harrison, the team’s goth loner hacker.

Eventually they’re assigned a real case and get their big break, overseen by Steve’s one friend in the agency, the enigmatic V, voiced by Metcalf, and are also forced to bring on the obnoxious and piggish Buck, voiced with tongue planted firmly in cheek by David Harbour (“Stranger Things,” “Black Widow”).

Yes, before going any further, the show’s premise is indeed similar to most other adult animated shows, especially that big one bearing H. Jon Benjamin’s involvement. If there’s anything to criticise the show for, it’s not that original beyond featuring a large cast of queer characters. Most of the plots are your standard sitcom fair and while it is consistently very funny, it has its fair share of overly done gay jokes.

The big beating heart at the center of it all is the characters and their relationships. They truly grow over the course of the show’s 10 episodes and come to form a great team. It really does feel like they’ve learned to work together and care for each other. Even Buck gets heartwarmingly redeemed and embraced as a member of the team/family by the end of things. There’s also something to be said for a show that has loving queer relationships, queer sex, and characters just existing on-screen. This isn’t the fare of a “very special episode,” this is just life for these characters, plain and simple.

It's also remarkably nice to look at. Most adult animated shows tend to have a similar, “Family Guy”-esque art style that tends to create some pretty ugly looking character designs and stiff animation. But the folks at Titmouse Canada, known for working on shows like “The Midnight Gospel,” “The Venture Brothers,” and “Animaniacs (2020)” have created a gorgeous and flowing world. The animation is remarkably smooth, with only a handful of awkward moments, and the entire thing is dressed in a retro-futuristic art style, reminiscent of the same sort of thing that inspired “The Incredibles,” making it a show that’s nice to watch and nice to look at.

There are plenty of things to praise and criticise “Q-Force” for. It definitely has its fair share of stereotypes, and the overarching plot might dabble in themes a bit too heavy than some would like. But the overall niceness of the entire affair, the great characters, and the fact that it’s clearly made for and by queer people lends everything a remarkably wonderful atmosphere. It's easy to roll your eyes but give “Q-Force” a chance and you’d be surprised at how good of a time it can be. 3.5/5