Friday, January 31, 2025

Love Me - Review: Love in the Time of Robotics

 

Humans have been using non-humans to tell stories about being human essentially since the beginning of storytelling. It’s not a new or novel concept, but the way in which one can delve into that concept and use it can be something new and fresh. For a first-time directing duo though, it's an interesting thing to dive straight into, as opposed to other “first time” film concepts like low-budget horror films or straight dramas with shoe-string budgets. Sam and Andy Zuchero’s (the directing duo known as just Zucheros) first feature is certainly ambitious, but how does that actually translate to the final film?

Sometime after the year 2600 AD, years after humanity has gone extinct from planet Earth, a robotic weather buoy awakens and begins to communicate with an orbiting satellite. The satellite's only purpose is to communicate information to potential new life forms, and the buoy’s burgeoning consciousness sets off the satellite’s systems. Eventually, the two begin to communicate as the buoy takes on the name Me, played by Kristen Stewart (“Spencer,” “Twilight”), and the satellite takes on the name Iam, played by Steven Yeun (“Invincible,” “The Walking Dead”), and they begin to examine humanity via the internet and media to develop their own virtual home, relationship, and ideas of what humanity is.

Yeun and Stewart are both really great here, turning in the exact kind of awkward, slowly evolving performances needed for character quite literally discovering their humanity over the course of this story. Stewart plays the awkward, optimistic, and self-depreciating role well, and Yeun’s ample experience with voice-over and animation work lets him run away with his role. They manage to develop Me and Iam into some truly interesting and deep characters. Their conversations and performances slowly peel away at the reality of their flawed, isolated view of humanity and how they can grow beyond. If nothing else, they’re a captivating pair that are easy to become emotionally invested in.

The Zucheros’ script reach a bit beyond what they can accomplish on this kind of scale, but it's an admirable reach, nevertheless. For as much as Stewart and Yeun succeed with this material, the script itself can come across as too hypothetical and preachy. There are plenty of ideas about humanity, being human, being “the real you” packed in here, but for as much as the film talks about it, rarely do the Zucheros dig deep into that material. It all feels very surface level, elevated by the performance certainly. But if you took a step back and looked at what’s on paper, it's the same sort of stuff talked about in the YouTube and influencer videos the film lightly parodies. There are a few moments that start to get into something more, like the idea of gender expression for these gender-less robots and the idea of changing someone for another, but the film never gets into those more interesting concepts.

However, their direction of the material works far better, thanks to the varying number of techniques used throughout. The entire film is a mixture of practical animatronic puppetry, visual effects, animation, and live action, all bouncing around at different points in Me and Iam’s journey. It’s all extremely impressive in how it seamlessly meshes together, though the 3D animation segments that take up the bulk of the film’s second act are fairly basic, resembling Facebook’s avatars more than any traditionally animated feature film. Regardless, it certainly looks unlike any other film you’re likely to find this year. Those impressive technical elements find easy purchase alongside the musical score from David Longstreth (“The Legend of Ochi”) that manages to be a cool electronic piece that’s evocative as well as exciting.

Besides its surface level script, the most critique for “Love Me” is the amount of real-life products and brands on display. It’s hard to imagine a film this small scale was actually sponsored by Blue Apron, and a lot of it does come from the influencer “lifestyle” vlogs Me and Iam watch, but its nevertheless jarring every time the pair mention the TV show “Friends” or mentions making the same Blue Apron meals, or playing Just Dance. For a film that tries so hard to deliver an authentic tale about the human experience, its cringe inducing every time. Separate from that, the film does have plenty of social media post and video cringe which, while used well within the narrative and structure of the film’s presentation, your mileage may vary on how much of that you can tolerate.

“Love Me” is the kind of film with big ambitions that shoots for the moon and definitely doesn’t reach it. However, what it does have is certainly quite sweet and entertaining, an emotionally honest tale that doesn’t dive as deeply as its central performances would have you believe. It’s remarkably technically impressive, and while the sappiness isn’t for everyone, there’s plenty to like and admire here in a unique little package. 3.5/5 

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.

Friday, January 17, 2025

Grand Theft Hamlet - Review: Shakespeare, Now with More Explosions

 

Let’s rewind a few years back. In the middle of the pandemic lockdown, there were countless people finding solace in video games. Some were discovering it for the first time, and some were re-entering their comfort zones. This was also a boon of scrappy, “do it yourself” kinds of art, whether it was via YouTube or any other corner of the internet. For those whose livings had been made performing in front of others, the video game streaming world could’ve seemed like a similar field to enter. But then there are those whose desire to entertain found less conventional outlets for expression. 

Sam Crane is a British stage actor locked away at home in 2021 during the U.K.’s pandemic lockdown, where he spends a chunk of his time playing Grand Theft Auto Online with his friend and fellow actor Mark Oosterveen. The pair happen upon an ampitheater area in the game and become inspired to put on a production of Hamlet entirely within Grand Theft Auto Online, including costumes, locations, and casting from the random people they encounter throughout the game. Their adventure is documented in the game itself by their friend and documentarian Pinny Grylls (“Hear My Voice”). 

It makes for a truly interesting tale and take on the art of performing. It's not the first work to comment on the idea of being an entertainer within the Pandemic, and it won’t be the last. But the absurdist nature of the game world creates a farcical backdrop for their old-fashioned tale of a group of people coming together to put on a show. Ironically, the satirical nature of Grand Theft Auto matches much of the satirical nature of much of Shakespeare’s original work, providing an oddly symmetrical backdrop to this tale of absurdist perseverance. Whether its watching someone arrive at the auditions by ramming their car into a wall and emerging unharmed, or having a mute figure dressed as an alien fly above the rehearsals, the sheer seriousness with which this lunacy is treated would make the Bard proud. 

Oddly enough, there’s not much to critique or praise with the film from a production standpoint. It’s a Machinima style project, which means it's entirely shot within a video game, utilizing the inherent constraints and strengths of the game in the style. If you’re familiar with the web series “Red vs. Blue,” that is also a Machinima production. As a professional film then, it comes off as bizarrely amateurish, with the visuals and most music and background sounds coming from the game itself, not from the film’s creative team. 

Things are at their best when they’re truly just flying by the seat of their pants. A handful of moments appear to be reenactments of events and conversations that either happened outside of the game or while not being recorded. Those are far less compelling and show more cracks in the facade compared to the whiz-bang improvised nature of the rest of the documentary.  

“Grand Theft Hamlet” is a rickety, shaggy film that is dripped in amateurish filmmaking techniques, and yet comes out the other side as some Frankenstein creation of video game and documentary. The sense of hope and desire to just perform bursts from every seam, and the entire film exudes a charm that makes it impossible to dislike, even if the final product could have clearly been a bit tighter and well put together. 3.5/5

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