Mickey 17 - Review: Two Social Pariahs Are Better Than One

 

There’s nothing more exciting in the realm of filmmaking than a blank check movie. Either after a massive box office success or a string of award wins, a director can find themselves being approached by a studio to essentially do whatever they want. Recent examples include Damien Chazelle’s post-“La La Land” film “Babylon,” Spielberg’s post-“Jaws” film “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” James Cameron's post-“Aliens” film “The Abyss”, Brad Bird’s post-“Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol” film “Tomorrowland,” Christopher Nolan’s upcoming post-“Oppenheimer” film “The Odyssey”, and inevitably whatever the Daniels and Greta Gerwig want to do next. Bong Joon-Ho (“Parasite,” Snowpiercer”) is absolutely in that camp as well fresh off the box-office success of Best Picture winner “Parasite.” And he’s cashing that cheque with an adaptation of the novel “Mickey 7” as “Mickey 17,” a gonzo, goofy, black science-fiction comedy that sees multiple Robert Pattinson(s) (“Twilight,” “The Batman”) taking on space fascists, animal cruelty, and an uprising of the lower working class. 

The film follows Mickey Barnes, played by Pattinson, who decides to vacate Earth and begin working in space as an “expendable,” a person who agrees partake in deadly jobs or scientific experiments and cloned upon their death with memories and personality intact, ready to do it all again. After landing on the snowy planet Niflheim during a space colonization trip lead by failed politician Kenneth Marshall, played by Mark Ruffalo (“13 Going on 30,” “The Avengers”), and his wife Ylfa, played by Toni Collette (“Hereditary,” “Knives Out”), Mickey finds himself narrowly escaping death at the hands of the indigenous species called “Creepers.” However, everyone else aboard the ship, including his space-cop girlfriend Nasha, played by Naomi Ackie (“Blink Twice,” “I Want to Dance with Somebody”) and pilot best friend Tomi, played by Steven Yeun (“Nope,” “The Walking Dead”), believes he perished on the planet and have already reprinted him. Now Mickey 17 is forced to confront his new self, Mickey 18, as well as the constraints of his employment, the fate of the planet, and the consequence for “multiples” like him: permanent death. 

Few directors would welcome this kind of layered and dense material, but Joon-Ho jumps in headfirst and runs away with it. Social satire is arguably the only through-line with his entire career and his assuredness is on full display. Regardless of how things unfold, this is clearly a film helmed by a confident man, and his use of the film’s most satirical elements is an exemplary display of that. There are some messier spots to be certain; the film’s third act stretches on for longer than one would think and there’s an inconsistent use of narration, but Joon-Ho is clearly making some big swings that hit far more often than they miss. 

Pattinson is completely on the same wavelength as Joon-Ho, both working on an equal level of science-fiction weirdness and goofiness. His dual performances are exceptionally strong, riding the line between showcasing how different these two Mickeys are without losing the heart of the character. He brings a sense of easily identifiable emotional pathos to the role(s), and in some ways provides a cathartic “what if” situation for anyone who’s ever felt like they’ve been chewed up and spat out by their job. A while back, famed director Park Chan-Wook proclaimed that Pattinson should be nominated for Best Actor and Supporting Actor for his work in the film and seeing the range of his performance(s), it's not hard to see why. 

The rest of Joon-Ho's ensemble is just as delightful, with everyone zeroing in on the absurdist sci-fi whimsy at the core of the tale. Ackie is a hyperactive, aggressive, romantic delight opposite Pattinson, and the film does an excellent job at giving the pair a showcase for Mickey and Nasha’s budding and steamy romance. Ruffalo and Collette are definitely pulling from specific influences in their portrayal of the film’s antagonists. They play up the hamminess of their performances, with Collette slacking slightly as her role feels more one note. Ruffalo though, as he practically breathes his words through his glimmering veneers, delivers an instantly hate-able if exceptionally cheesy villain. Yeun also manages to be a chaotic force across the film, with a big grin and slightly antagonistic sensibilities. But Bong feels less interested in him, resulting in his character getting sidelined for a chunk of the film. 

Besides the main cast, Joon-Ho clearly has a gift with his smaller ensemble roles as well. He seems to bring out the best in a cast, doubly so for bit parts that might only have a handful of lines otherwise. Patsy Ferran (“White Bird,” “Miss Austen”) pops up throughout as a wide-eyed scientist who shares Mickey’s fascination with the “creepers” species, Cameron Britton (“Mindhunter,” “Manhunt: Deadly Games”) is Arkady, a somewhat dimwitted leader of the scientists’ brigade, Stephen Park (“The French Dispatch, “Snowpiercer”) shows up seemingly randomly as Agent Zeke, the head of Nasha’s security force, and Anamaria Vartolomei (“Happening,” “The Count of Monte Cristo (2024)”) is Kai, a fellow scientist working with Mickey who begins to fall for Mickey. Each of them manages to make an impact in much the same way the most iconic character actors do, thrusted forth by Joon-Ho's strong directorial force. 

Where things get a bit stickier comes with Bong’s script and overall plotting. There’s a grand scope here and what Joon-Ho does manage to accomplish is pretty fantastic, but by the time the film wraps up, it's a case of him getting a few too many toys to play with and not enough time for each of them to get their deserved time. The result is a film that tackles a lot of different elements that all come back to one central theme: oppression and destruction, but in each individual element it isn’t fleshed out as much as one would hope from someone like Bong. The humor is the film’s biggest and best aspect, shattering through everything. It’s the central lynchpin, and Bong makes sure that his satire and its deployed use is as subtle as a sledgehammer. 

From a technical aspect as well, the film is a masterclass. “Mickey 17” comes in with the biggest budget of Joon-Ho's career, more than double his previously biggest, and he doesn’t let it go to waste. The usage of practical and claustrophobic sets, as well as the heavy contrasting colors, showcases a tight production design that’s sumptuous and enviable for any other filmmaker. It invokes a mixture between a prison facility and the retrofuture “cassette tech” of films like “Alien.” This gorgeous aesthetic and textual experience is further enhanced by Darius Khondji’s (“Se7en,” “Uncut Gems”) cinematography, but the technical aspect that stands out the most is the musical score from composer Jung Jae-il (“Parasite,” “Squid Game”). A musical composition that fluctuates between calming beats and tense piano strings that helps to accentuate every single moment. 

In the age of blockbuster dominance, a film like “Mickey 17” is a delight to experience, even when it doesn’t fully nail every aspect. A tonal ballet between bits of purely dark comedy, social revolution, and pining romance, built within a textually fantastic visual world, and with a commanding and capable cast, led by not one but two Robert Pattinsons, there are few films like “Mickey 17.” Bong Joon-Ho's latest is a confident and messy tales of social revolt in space that succeeds even as Bong seems to be overfilling his tale with goodies. If you can handle the radical and completely unsubtle social tones at play, you’re not likely to find a film as fun, as weird, as messy, and as enjoyable as this Mickey anytime soon. 4.5/5 

Plankton: The Movie - Review: A Single Cell's Celluloid Adventure

 

There certainly isn’t a lack of “SpongeBob” related media these days. From the abundance of merchandise based on the show, including a new line of merch themed around the various memes the series has spawned, various spin-off TV shows, and the numerous theatrical and Netflix produced films. Now there’s yet another film in that Netflix made series of spin-off projects. After last year’s abysmal Sandy Cheeks movie, now we’ve got one focusing on Bikini Bottom’s most villainous single-celled organism. 

The aptly titled “Plankton: The Movie” follows the titular villainous sea creature, voiced by Mr. Lawrence (“Rocko’s Modern Life,” “Mighty Magiswords”), who once again attempts to steal the Krabby Patty Secret Formula. However, after his latest failed attempt leads to a fight with his computerized wife Karen, voiced by Jill Talley (“The Boondocks,” “The Loud House”), she leaves him and begins to exact her own revenge on Bikini Bottom. Beaten and downtrodden, Plankton seeks the help of SpongeBob, voiced by Tom Kenny (“Adventure Time,” “Rocko’s Modern Life”), to help him rekindle his relationship with Karen and save Bikini Bottom. 

If nothing else, this 80-minute-long adventure is a perfect showcase for the voice acting talents of Lawrence and Talley. They’ve voiced these characters since their creation and giving them a meatier tale to work with is absolutely the best decision. The material isn’t something exceptional, but it provides them plenty of excuses to delivers amusing gags and work within the constraints of the characters’ limited growth. Talley in particular gets a bit more to chew as Karen eventually splits into three different version with three different emotions, allowing her to put different spins on the character’s normal voice. Kenny is just as reliable as he’s ever been as the boisterous Bob, and the rest of the series’ ensemble is here and as chuckle worthy as ever. 

The film’s script, co-written by Lawrence, Chris Viscardi (“Snow Day (2000),” “The Loud House Movie”), and Kaz (“Phineas and Ferb,” “Camp Lazlo”), and directed by Dave Needham (“The Loud House Movie”), delves a bit deeper into the backstories of Plankton and Karen, but feels paper-thin in the context of the rest of the series. Let’s face it: something like this is either only going to appeal to die-hard fans or young kids. And die-hard fans will immediately recognize how virtually everything explored with Karen and Plankton’s backstory contradicts previously established series lore. It isn’t a crazy thing, as the whole show has constantly rewritten itself, but it prevents it from feeling like an essential piece of the series' history. 

Just like the Sandy Cheeks film, there’s also a handful of original songs peppered throughout, making the film a lite musical. Written by Bret McKenzie (“The Muppets (2011),” “Thelma the Unicorn”), Linda Perry (“Out of My Mind (2024),” “Dumplin’ (2018)”), Mark Mothersbaugh (“Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs,” “The LEGO Movie”), and Bob Mothersbaugh (“The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou,” “Rugrats (2021)”), the songs work as fun showcases of the various musical styles the series has had over the years. They aren’t particularly standout works, but they certainly aren’t painful either. They also backup some differing animation stylings shown throughout the film. For certain sequences and flashbacks, things get as experimental as one might expect from a Netflix produced TV show spinoff film. Which is to say not much, but the handful of times it does are good enough that they make you wish the film did it more. 

For the rest of the visuals, the film’s CGI is a step-down from the theatrical films, but a slight improvement over that in last year’s Sandy Cheeks film and the Paramount+ show “Kamp Koral.” The 3D animation, as opposed to the main series traditional 2D style, still keeps the same over-the-top cartoony nature of the base animation. It never feels stilted or forced, but it lacks the extra touches implemented in the theatrical 3D “SpongeBob” films. Whereas the last theatrical film, “Sponge on the Run,” has small pores and exaggerated stylings in each detail, this one is clean and smooth but lacking any fine details or specific style. It’s fine enough, and again, it maintains the specific momentary exaggerations used for comedic moments, but it's a flat style overall. 

“Plankton: The Movie” is a great little diversion into the world of SpongeBob that is certainly amusing enough to distract for 80 minutes. It's at its best when it's a simple showcase of the voice acting talents of its two lead actors, letting them really play with characters they’ve worked with for twenty-five years. While the animation isn’t as detailed as it could be and the overall plot continues a bizarre trend of complete disregard for previous series lore, it importantly still gets the core of these characters right and works as a love letter to Mr. Lawrence, Jill Talley, and their work with the series for the past two decades. 3.5/5 

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

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.

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