Tag Archives: biopic

MICHAEL (2026) biopic review

Posted on by
Reply

Electrifying in look, disjointed in prose.

Michael is, at its best, a spectacle. At its worst, it is a sequence of moments searching for a story to connect them. The film dazzles with electrifying musical numbers and a transformative performance from Jaafar Jackson, recreating the energy and precision that made Michael Jackson a global icon. Yet beneath the surface of that spectacle lies a surprisingly thin dramatic foundation. Rather than unfolding as a cohesive narrative, the movie plays more like a curated timeline—an impressive collection of scenes and set pieces that rarely build upon one another. The result is a biopic that captures the look and sound of greatness, but seldom pauses long enough to explore the human motivations and emotional currents that made that greatness possible.

Michael is the story of the first half of the King of Pop’s life–from his extraordinary early days in the Jackson 5 to the visionary artist whose creative ambition fuels a relentless pursuit to become the biggest entertainer in the world.

Without a doubt, Jaafar Jackson’s performance as his uncle, Michael Jackson, is nothing short of electrifying. He captures the look, the voice, the posture, and—most impressively—the kinetic energy of the King of Pop with uncanny precision. There are stretches in this film where the illusion is so convincing that you genuinely forget you are watching an actor. You feel, instead, as though Michael himself has stepped back onto the stage.

And the film knows it.

The concert and music-video sequences are spectacular—lavish in scale, meticulously choreographed, and technically impressive. From the lighting design to the sound mixing to the camera movement, these moments recreate the experience of a Michael Jackson performance with remarkable fidelity. If you never had the opportunity to see him live, this movie brings you about as close as cinema can.

But spectacle alone cannot sustain a narrative. Despite its visual electricity, Michael plays less like a cohesive drama and more like a curated highlight reel. Scene after scene unfolds with little connective tissue, rarely building upon what came before. The only true continuity in the film is Michael himself—his presence serving as the thread holding together a collection of otherwise disconnected sequences.

As a result, character development is surprisingly thin—even for the central figure. Yes, we hear Michael express his desire to be the best. We see his ambition. We witness his relentless pursuit of perfection. But we rarely feel the emotional engine driving those impulses. Motivation is stated rather than dramatized. The film tells us who Michael is, but seldom allows us to experience how he became that person.

That limitation extends to the supporting characters as well.

Take Joseph Jackson. The film hints at his greed and severity, but it stops short of exploring the deeper complexity of his motivations. There is an important story there—one about a father determined to ensure his children would not spend their lives working in a steel mill in Gary, Indiana. His methods were often harsh, even repulsive, but his ambition was rooted in a desire for something better. That tension, which could have provided dramatic depth, remains largely unexplored.

Many of the characters in this film—including the leads—feel one-dimensional, defined more by their roles in Michael’s life than by their own inner lives. To its credit, the film does succeed in weaving a thematic motif that carries from beginning to end: the enduring influence of Peter Pan. We learn why the story of the boy who never grew up resonated so deeply with Michael from childhood onward, and that thread provides one of the few elements of emotional continuity in the narrative. We also meet his famous chimpanzee, Bubbles—an inclusion that underscores the film’s fascination with the mythology surrounding the man.

Narratively, the movie traces Michael’s journey from his early days in Gary to his 1988 concert in London. But the film feels less like an exploration of his life and more like a survey of it—an overview rather than an examination.

One might argue that such breadth is necessary to capture what amounts to the first half of an extraordinary life within a two-hour runtime. Yet history suggests otherwise. Consider What’s Love Got to Do with It, anchored by a career-defining performance from Angela Bassett as Tina Turner. That film covers decades of triumph and trauma while still delivering character development, narrative momentum, and emotional clarity. It demonstrates that a larger-than-life story can be both expansive and dramatically coherent.

Perhaps the difference lies not in structure, but in subject.

Unlike Turner’s story, Michael Jackson’s legacy remains complicated—shaped not only by unprecedented artistic achievement but also by controversy, scandal, and public scrutiny. For some viewers, that context may make it difficult to fully embrace a film that focuses primarily on the years before his fall from favor. And with the movie ending on a clear “to be continued” note, it seems inevitable that the darker chapters of his life will be addressed in a future installment.

Still, for all its narrative shortcomings, Michael delivers where it matters most to fans: the music. The recreation of the Thriller sequence is a particular highlight—an exhilarating reminder of why Michael Jackson became a global phenomenon. The film’s reverence for his artistry is unmistakable, even if its storytelling discipline is not. I was disappointed, however, that the great Vincent Price receives little more than a passing acknowledgment, though his brief appearance via House of Wax offers a welcome nod to cinema history.

In the end, Michael succeeds as an experience more than as a narrative.

Go for the concert.
Go for the spectacle.
Go to witness an astonishing performance.

But do not expect to leave with a deeper understanding of the man behind the music.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media and host of the show ReelTalk “where you can join the cinematic conversations frame by frame each week.” Additionally, he is the author of the upcoming film studies book titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. After teaching film studies for over eight years at the University of Tampa, he transitioned from the classroom to public media. He is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

THE IRON CLAW film review

Posted on by
Reply

A compelling story with one-dimensional characters. The Iron Claw has all the ingredients for a masterpiece, but still misses the punch. My initial reaction to this film was an eagerness to like it much more than I did, for it was missing something. At the time, I was unsure what was missing, but the most likely culprit is the lack of character dimension and development. However, the film is saved from falling completely flat by the outstanding performance by Zac Efron. He has the weight of this film on his shoulders and it shows clearly throughout the story. Like with other sports-related biopics or sports movies, it’s not really about the wrestling; but rather, it is about the life of wrestling legend Kevin Von Erich and his relationship with his family and the tragedies that haunted them. It’s a film to watch for the excellent performance by Efron and to learn about the biggest competitor to the WWE from the 1960s-80s. Clearly the real-life story is incredibly tragic, but as it was expressed in the film, it leaves me with a feeling that there was a great film in there somewhere, but it unfortunately fell victim to lackluster screenwriting.

The true story of the inseparable Von Erich brothers, who make history in the intensely competitive world of professional wrestling in the early 1980s. Through tragedy and triumph, under the shadow of their domineering father and coach, the brothers seek larger-than-life immortality on the biggest stage in sports.

When I say I wanted to like this film more, I am certainly not alone. Most of the other critic in my screening had the same or similar reaction. We were in agreement that this film was missing something, but at the time, we did not know what that was. After much thought, I am left with the fault being in the screenwriting, specifically, the lack of character development. This is most noticeable during the three deaths (this isn’t a spoiler as this is based on real family). None of the deaths feel particularly impactful because we failed to spend a sufficient amount of time with any of the characters prior to the tragedy.

Most of our time is spent with Kevin Von Erich (Efron) and the patriarch of the family Fritz, They are the only two characters that are ever given anything substantive to do during the film. This is especially true for Kevin’s girlfriend/wife Pam Adkinsson (Lily James) and the Von Erich matriarch Doris (Maura TIerney). Neither character is given much to do; therefore, in most scenes, both ladies are unfortunately treated like little more than furniture. Yes, this is a story about the Von Erich bothers; however, your central cast is often only as interesting and dynamic as the supporting cast around them. You can remove either Pam or Doris from this movie, and it plays out nearly the same, until the very end.

While in real life, death can come at any moment, therefore there lacks a measurable buildup to the tragic passing, in a film, there is the creative latitude to both pace and structure the story in such a way that characters are developed sufficiently and there is adequate breathing room between deaths. When deaths occur occur in the film, it feels like a matter of fact. Yes, it is a factual event, but the deaths do not exactly emote much. Combine this with the lack of connection between the audience and most of the characters in the film, and it’s nearly impossible for the deaths to truly impact–suffice it to say–the deaths in this film are felt more or less cerebrally. You will find yourself thinking about them, but you won’t feel them to any great extent.

Saving the film from completely falling flat is the outstanding performance by Efron as Kevin Von Erich. We’ve seen Efron flex his acting chops in the past, but this role is certainly the most dramatic of his career. Not knowing anything about the real Kevin Von Erich, aside from what I learned in the film, it appears that Efron completely transforms into the wrestling legend. And I am not just talking physique, but mentally and physically he became Von Erich. In every scene, he delivers a nuanced performance that communicates in spades to the audience the weight of the world on his shoulders. Never once did I feel that I was watching Efron portray Von Erich, I felt I was watching Kevin Von Erich on screen. His performance and characterization of Kevin Von Erich will captivate you, and almost make you forget the film is lacking in the writing department.

Lastly, a theme that the film touches on, but fails to lean into more heavily is legacy; moreover, a cautionary story of what can happen when a parent attempts to live out his or her career or professional accomplishments through their chid even when the child is not necessarily gifted in the same way nor has the same goals and ambitions. Fritz Von Erich represents a toxic parenting trait of forcing kids to fit his mold and to accomplish what he couldn’t, thus allowing him to vicariously live out the dreams he never realized. The emotional and psychological (and sometimes physical) effects upon the child often end in negative growth because the child is rarely ever able to live up to the expectations of the parent demanding the child achieve for the family what the parents was unable to do.

If you’re a wrestling fan, I highly encourage you to watch The Iron Claw in cinemas, but if you are not particularly a wrestling fan, then it’s one that is still a good watch, but watching it at home will be sufficient enough. It’s an intimate film, but the family is larger than life.

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa and is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter. If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

MAESTRO film review

Posted on by
Reply

Maestro‘s reach exceeds its grasp. Bradley Cooper’s biopic on Leonard Bernstein is an exemplary motion picture in many respects, but ultimately its potential for excellence is hampered by a disjointed screenplay. The performative dimension of the film is impressive, as is the emotive apparatus of the film itself. Furthermore, Cooper’s talent for the director’s chair is witnessed beautifully in most areas of the film except for the storytelling mechanics–not the story itself–but rather how the story is told. Another example of the dangers of being both writer and director (and in this case producer too). Most films need the checks and balances that come from having a different individual at the helm of writing, directing, and producing. If most of what you know of Bernstein’s legendary career comes from West Side Story, then you should read up on his accomplishments prior to watching the film, as it feels very inside baseball. There is a great story in this film, but the screenwriting mechanics hold it back from being truly outstanding.

Maestro tells the complex love story of Leonard and Felicia, a story that spans over 30 years-from the time they met in 1946 at a party and continuing through two engagements. It also chronicles the prolific and influential career of one of the greatest composers and conductors in American history.

The most striking dimension of the film is the apparatus of the film itself, the mechanics employed to visually craft the method of telling this story. The film starts in then-present day with an on-camera interview in color and widescreen, then as the film jumps back to the 1940s, it changes to a 4:3 ratio and is in grayscale (with a blue tint). As the story unfolds, the film transitions from 4:3 grayscale to 4:3 color to eventually 16:9 (if you will) color. To the casual observer, this was to signify time jumps alone–and to stop there would be limiting the art and affects of this tool. More than signifying chronology, it was used to spotlight the emotive dimension of the film as it evolves (or devolves, depending on how you look at it) from an old Hollywood conventional romance to post-modern subversive romance.

Bernstein goes from being in love with people to being in love with his music, but always in need of muses and people around him. He was almost never alone–he was scared of being alone. The irony in that is he simultaneously brought people together with his music but drove them away because his first love was his music. Beyond the montage of the film, this emotive apparatus incudes a complete score by Bernstein, and the inclusion of Bernstein’s music to accompany audiences along this journey was a brilliant choice to increase the intimacy of the story for audiences both familiar and unfamiliar with his library of compositions. Cooper’s use of a cinematic storytelling apparatus such as this, elevated mere storytelling montage for cause/effect chronology to that which communicates emotion and introspection.

Both Bradley Cooper and Carey Mulligan shine in their respective roles; moreover, Mulligan’s Felicia Montealegre-Bernstein is truly the heart and soul of this film. Not mere impersonations, both Cooper and Mulligan completely transform into the real-life characters they are portraying. The performances were so incredibly intimate and personal that the authenticity leaped off the screen. When they hurt, we hurt, and when they were joyous, we were joyous. While Leonard is the title role, the character with whom most in the audience will identify is Felicia. She is the conduit through which we experience most of this biopic. Furthermore, she is the character that feel the most human, because Leonard’s level of talent was so out-of-the-world that it is hard to connect with him to the same degree most in the audience connect with the unconventional romance of Felicia and Leonard.

On a more personal note, I found myself connecting with Leonard the most because there is a line from Bernstein in the movie that goes something to the effect of (and I am paraphrasing) “I am so many things, but society only wants me to be one thing. I cannot be that one thing because I am all these things, and to not be any one of them would be to deny who I am.” Despite the fact I feel that Cooper is as much a screenwriter as Sorkin is a director, this line is representative of the central theme in the film and one with which I identify greatly. For I too am so many things, but society wants me to pick (and be successful) at just one of them, but I cannot because I am all these things. I am a professor, academic writer, event planner, film critic, and public speaker. For me to not do any one of these things would be to deny who I am. On that level, this film felt incredibly personal.

With all these wonderful elements going for this motion picture, the film’s reach exceeds its grasp due to the disjointed screenwriting. I’ve said it before, and I will say it again, most directors are not screenwriters (and the inverse is also true). Very few writer-directors can do both jobs equally well. If for no other reason, a film built upon a writer-director lacks sufficient checks and balances to ensure the narrative mechanics are adequate for translating a story from the mind of a screenwriter to the screen of a director. And this is where I draw the inside baseball analogy I mentioned earlier. The full potential of this film requires audiences to be knowledgable in the career of Bernstein beyond West Side Story and Our Town.

The screenplay fails to start on common ground before its deep dive into the career and romances of Bernstein. For example, unless you are a student of music, it is doubtful that you were aware of his work outside of West Side Story and Our Town. Therefore, since that is most people, the screenplay should have established a common connection between Bernstein’s work and general audience members early on in the film. Then, once common ground was established, take audiences on the journey through his personal and professional life. His contributions to Broadway are little more than one-off mentions during the film. The pacing of the story also plagues the film as it provides few, if any, transitional scenes and simply jumps from time period to time period. The stylized editing and cinematography mentioned earlier in the review help to communicate chronology, but there is more to telling a biographical story than time and place.

Alfred Hitchcock stated to start every scene in a film as close to the end of the scene as possible and end the scene as soon as possible all while ensuring that something dramatic happens at the end of the scene (in screenwriting terms a button) that sets up the proceeding scene. Nothing should happen in scene B that wasn’t setup in scene A and every scene should in some way point to the end of the film. It is basic screenwriting conventions that are ignored in hopes that the stylistic apparatus and performative dimensions of the film will make up for the lack of care in the how the story is being told. Screenwriting is more than a narrative to be delivered on the silver screen, it’s more than dramatize don’t tell, it’s all of that plus how story is being told even before the first shot is filmed. Screenwriting mechanics (inclusive of conventions and guidelines) are important because they work.

Bradley Cooper’s Maestro is a beautiful-looking motion picture that attempts to capture the gravitas of the professional and personal life of one of the greatest composers and conductors in American history. While it’s no Amadeus or Mr. Holland’s Opus, it is a solid film that students and fans of his career will thoroughly enjoy. For those that may only know him from his contributions to Broadway, the film will still be interesting enough, but may not be as impactful without more in-depth knowledge of his career and life.

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa and is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter. If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

FLAMIN’ HOT movie mini review

Posted on by
1

Uplifting! Flamin’ Hot is a thoroughly enjoyable, motivational biopic that captivates audiences with the compelling story of Richard Montañez, the man who invented Flamin’ Hot Cheetos (and other Flamin’ Hot line items) and ostensibly saved his Southern California FritoLay plant from closure in the 90s. Directed by Eva Longoria and written by Lewis Colick and Linda Yvette Chávez, this movie delivers a more compelling story than AIR; however, Flamin Hot does not deliver as highly in the performative dimension. This is a movie for anyone that has ever felt like an underdog. Richard’s inspirational story serves as evidence that prayer, determination, resiliency, and refusal to allow one’s origin to determine one’s personal and professional destination, truly do work! Although the movie is tonally upbeat and even funny, it still affords intimate character moments. Structurally, the movie is well-paced and never hangs out in any scene longer than it needs. And it’s incredibly interesting! Just like AIR so successfully made the origin of a shoe captivating, the same can be said for Flamin’ Hot Cheetos.

If you’re seeking a picture that is inspirational, lean, and funny, then checkout Flamin’ Hot on Hulu and Disney+ starting June 9th.

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa and is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter. If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

AIR movie review

Posted on by
3

Nothin’ but net! “AIR” is an outstanding biographical drama that will inspire anyone with a gut feeling, that they’re onto something great, to ”Just Do It!” The allstar cast shines brilliantly, and the screenwriting is excellent! Definitely look for this high stakes, high energy underdog story next awards season.

Sonny Vaccaro and Nike pursue basketball rookie Michael Jordan, creating a partnership that revolutionizes the world of sports and contemporary culture.

Who would have ever thought that the origins of the single best known athletic shoe would have this much ‘sole.’ It’s funny, emotionally moving, and educational. More than the risky financial move that would either launch the struggling NIKE company to success or shutter the athletic division, this story is one of resilience. Resilience in business and in character. In many ways, this movie is “Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris” meets “The Social Network,” two films to which this one will undoubtedly be compared.

Every scene in this film exemplifies exceptional screenwriting and directing. The story snaps, crackles, and pops, and the vision for direction is consistently building to the end of the story, with every scene delivering a well-defined setup–>development–>resolution.

Highly recommend watching this heartfelt motion picture!

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa and is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter. If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry