MICKEY 17 film review

Ambitious but disjointed. Bong Joon-ho’s newest film Mickey 17 excels in technical achievement but the full impact of the story demonstrates greater concern for its satire, message, and world building than it does its plotting and structure. Blending multiple genre conventions, Joon-ho’s science-fiction, dark comedy begins with an intriguing premise underscores with existential questions, but ultimately doesn’t feel cohesive from beginning to end. Despite the exhaustive satire–which is entertaining at first–the film works excellently as a critique of the prolific mediation of society, obsession with the idea of self-made celebrity, and the camera fame. Additionally, it presents an exploration of humanity’s fixation on replication and surveillance. Perhaps the film doesn’t call out any particular app or platform, it certainly drives home the point that a monster can be created through obsession with one’s image, control, and manipulation of others.

Mickey Barnes (Robert Pattinson), a disposable employee, is sent on a human expedition to colonize the ice world Niflheim. After one iteration dies, a new body is regenerated with most of his memories intact.

Despite an intriguing premise, the narrative often succumbs to prolonged scenes and sequences, subplots that lack meaningful purpose, and over-explanation in come places whilst lack of purpose exists elsewhere. While the third act is strong and completely engaging, the first act is protracted and the second act is plagued by poor pacing brought on by a wandering direction. The protracted first act delays audience immersion into the core narrative. What would’ve served the plot better as a brief prologue, turns into most of the first act. Even though the film maintains a modicum of innovation and freshness, it struggles to sustain momentum, resulting in a clunky and disposable experience.

The film delivers a relatively strong performative dimension, which helps to keep the audience engaged–however weak the engagement–in the story. And, Robert Pattinson performance strikes a nice balance between nuanced and manic, which mimics the film’s darkly comedic tone. Between his and the other leading actors performances, collectively they add a rolling punchline to the monotony of many scenes and sequences in the film. Mark Ruffalo’s depiction of the authoritarian leader, Kenneth Marshall, is audacious and campy, but doesn’t take long for this performance to become exhaustive–a little goes a long way with Marshall. Playing Marshall’s wife is horror-fan favorite Toni Collette, and even her character overstays her welcome in most of the scenes in which she appears.

Both the plotting and character issues can be connected to the screenwriting, which lacks direction, purpose, and refinement. Mickey 17 is another example of a director with a great, even innovative movie idea, but should work with a screenwriter with a command of proper screenwriting conventions and mechanics to craft the story for the page, and eventually the screen. This issue is not unique to Joon-ho, but a recurring problem I find with many (if not most) writer-directors. Few directors can write as well as they direct; and the inverse is also true–few screenwriters can direct as well as they can write.

Mickey 17 serves as a critique of the mediation of society, wherein informative, entertaining, and surveilling media technologies devalue the individual resulting in individuality with dimension being reduced to a character or commodity to be traded and exploited for the sake of ratings and celebrity. Mickey’s existential crisis of repeatedly dying and being reprinted underscores the alienation experienced in a society that commodifies human existence. Furthermore, Keneth Marshall’s obsession with control and his self-made celebrity mirrors the obsession many have, in the real world, with their “celluloid” self–or more accurately today–their digital self.

Everything Marshall said or did was ran through an image consultant and production crew on how it would look on camera. Looking at the real world, each of those squared images on Instagram or vertical video on SnapChat or Tik Tok, only show an edited version of the subject–the framing and editing is specifically manipulated and articulated to shape the audience’s perception. While this is to be expected in motion pictures and television shows, many of these self-made celebrities and influencers on social media want the audience believe they are being authentic, when it’s all a facade. In this obsession with the camera and “framed” image, society is exchanging that which is real with a projected authenticity; furthermore, the lines between what which is real and that which is fictionalized (or augmented) are becoming increasingly blurred.

Bong Joon-ho’s Mickey 17 blends satire with science fiction but the film’s underdeveloped plot and uneven character portrayals prevent it from reaching the potential this film demonstrably had with the talent behind it.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk about all things cinema. 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

CONCLAVE film review

Spellbinding and poignantly reflective! It’s like House of Cards but with Cardinals and Nuns. Truly captivating.

Cardinal Lawrence has one of the world’s most secretive and ancient events, participating in the selection of a new pope. Surrounded by powerful religious leaders in the halls of the Vatican, he soon uncovers a trail of deep secrets that could shake the very foundation of the Roman Catholic Church.

I feel the film strikes a delicate balance between reverence for the subject matter, yet provides us with a subtle critique of its institutional traditions. The story unfolds with deep respect for the gravity of the papal election. However, through its unfolding intrigue, the film also reminds us that faith should ultimately be centered on God rather than on rigid customs or political maneuvering. The narrative underscores how human ambition, secrecy, and tradition can sometimes cloud the true purpose of faith. And the plotting is meticulously structured. Every revelation is carefully placed, each character’s motivations are unraveled with precision, and the pacing ensures that the suspense never overshadows the film’s thoughtful meditation on spirituality and power. I also like how the screenplay both honors faith-based institutional traditions but challenges the audience to reflect on what truly matters in faith.

To me, the cast collectively delivers a compelling performative dimension that drives the captivating nature of this film. Feinnes, Rosselini, Tucci, Lithgow—what a powerhouse. The actors did a brilliant job of drawing audiences into the pomp, circumstance, and almost clandestine nature of the election of the Pope. Feinnes’ performance as Cardinal Lawrence was bold and convicting, yet incredibly nuanced at the same time. The other cast member I want to spotlight is Isabella Rossellini as Sister Agnes. And while the gravitas she brought to every scene, in which she was featured, allowed her to steel the spotlight, there were Amy moments—to my delight—that I could hear Lisle Von Rhouman from Death Becomes Her. 

I love how the characters are not merely realistic individuals vying for power within the Vatican but, a closer reading reveals something far more important in these characters: the key characters each represent broader themes of faith, morality, and human ambition. Each character serves as a symbolic force in the intricate balance between divine guidance and earthly maneuvering. Just to name a few: I see Feinnes’ Lawrence as the moral compass, Tucci’c Bellini as the political strategist, Lithgow’s Tremblay as the power seeker, and Rossellini’s Sister Agnes as the voice of reason or conscience. Each character represents different facets of power, faith, and human imperfection within religious institutions. Collectively, the characters offer audiences more than a quasi-political thriller, but a meditation on the true meaning of leadership.

The exquisite costuming and production design truly immerse us into the grandeur and secrecy of the Vatican. The costuming itself was a work of art that demonstrated careful attention to ecclesiastical tradition but also incorporated visual storytelling elements. The choice of fabrics, embroidery, and even the way the robes drape contribute to the film’s overall sense of realism and reverence, and serve as an extension of the setting and the personalities of the characters. As for the production design, every detail, from the richly embroidered vestments to the imposing architecture, reinforces the film’s solemn, high-stakes atmosphere. A key aspect of this visual achievement is the film’s use of Cinecittà Studios in Rome. Founded in 1937, it is one of the largest film studios in the world and has a rich, legendary even place in cinema history. Which I could go into for the rest of out time together. But suffice it to say, it was home to Liz Taylor’s Cleopatra and Isabelle Rossellini’s famous director father filmed at the storied studio. You can visit it, and its theme park today! 

I feel the film has a lot to say about a variety of topics. If I was to identify a few, I’d say there are themes and messages concerning faith and politics, which we witness in the actions of the cardinals, while ostensibly seeking to follow God’s will, we are reminded that they are humans influenced by personal beliefs, rivalries, and ambitions. While it’s a group of men in this film, in this situation, we can really extend this idea to any and everyone. I also like how the film explores the immense weight leadership brings with it. Probably what hit me the most was how the film was not so presumptuous as to posit answers or solutions, but rather more concerned about prompting introspection. It respects the sacred traditions of the Church while also questioning the imperfections of any human-led institution—which is all of them. The film suggests that true faith is not found in ceremony or power but in the individual’s relationships with God and his or her fellow man.

I love when a film transcends its premise. While the surface of a film can be intriguing, entertaining, funny, or scary, it’s what lies beneath the surface that offers a timeless cinematic richness. And Conclave is one of those films. It offers us a profound reflection on the world we live in, and the intricate dynamics that shape our daily lives. This film serves as a mirror to the struggles of leadership, morality, and power that permeate every institution—from politics to corporations, from religious organizations to personal relationships.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk about all things cinema. 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

CAPTAIN AMERICA: BRAVE NEW WORLD movie review

Disney+: the Movie. The latest installment in the MCU feels like a Disney+ episode or show idea that was artificially inflated into a feature film. Captain America: Brave New World neither has the intrigue of an espionage thriller nor the excitement of a superhero movie. The plotting unfolds in a manner reminiscent of a serialized television series, evidenced by disjointed scenes that could very well function as individual episodes respectively. The movie is also plagued with gross levels of slapdash, uninspiring CGI that take an already vapid story and reinforce the one-dimensional delivery. From beginning to end, the pacing issues are evidenced by the diegetic momentum that ramps up then fizzles repeatedly causing any modicum of suspense or urgency to diminish as soon as it forms, resulting in a mitigation any potential of a cinematic spectacular.

Sam finds himself in the middle of an international incident after meeting with President Thaddeus Ross. He must soon discover the reason behind a nefarious global plot before the true mastermind has the entire world seeing red.

Captain America: Brave New World exemplifies the trend of blurring the lines between television and cinema. The long and short of it is: the significant influence the MCU TV shows have had upon the theatrical releases. This observation is two-fold (1) screenwriting and (2) technical achievement. While the former is the more significant problem, the latter is the easiest to identify. Specifically, the movie’s color grading, shot composition, and digital effects are nearly indistinguishable from MCU streaming series on Disney+. Unfortunately, this blurring of the lines between cinema and television results in a lack of the grandeur typically associated with MCU theatrical releases.

The latter could be more forgivable is the former was of a higher caliber. While writer Rob Edwards has certainly demonstrated his gift for screenwriting in previous Disney films (the Academy Award nominated Treasure Planet, being one), the other two writers have primarily worked in Disney+ television–and it shows–in spades. The plotting, pacing, character development (or lack thereof, as it were) is straight out of Disney+. The lack of urgency and stakes are also problematic, as well as the near absence of the “fun” factor. I will be the first to acknowledge that I don’t typically care for comic book or superhero movies; that said, even I will admit that the the first two phases of the MCU were (mostly, anyway) fun popcorn movies. Not the case with this latest installment. If the movie wasn’t going to be fun, then it should’ve been intriguing or spellbinding–not the case either. It’s pretty average all the way around.

I will forever be a champion for practical effects–even practical effects that are supplemented with CGI. But this movie screams TV-budget CGI the whole time. This is particularly true in the rather anticlimactic showdown. You cannot replace the way real light bounces off real objects into the camera lens, and this movie demonstrates the danger in relying heavily on CGI in an attempt to wow the audience. The strength of a picture should be in the plotting, subtext, and character development–not in the CGI. Since the movie was not going to lean into the fun factor, the CGI should’ve been dialed way back.

Even though it was wonderful to see Harrison Ford on the big screen again, he appeared to have been experience little fun while making this movie; furthermore, the performance was pretty well phoned in. Likewise, Anthony Mackie was not himself as Sam. This Sam was greatly lacking in charisma and wit. While his performance may not have been as phoned-in as Ford’s, there was still a flatness to the performative dimension. Danny Ramirez, however, did appear to be having fun on this movie, and I would’ve liked to have seen him given more to do in order to draw me into the story.

Captain America: Brave New World struggles to distinguish itself as a cinematic experience, with its disjoined plot, production quality, and lack of meaningful character development, resulting in a movie that appears to have far more in common with a Disney+ television series than with a feature motion picture.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk about all things cinema. 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

HEART EYES horror movie review

Slashtastic! Heart Eyes is the don’t miss holiday horror movie this Valentine’s season. Whether you’re a romantic or a cynic, there is something in here for everyone. The blend of romance and horror will, like Cupid’s arrow, find its way to the heart of slasher fans. Move over Coal Miner to make room for a new killer on the Valentine’s scene. Directed by CollegeHumor’s Josh Ruben and written by Christopher Landon (Happy Death Day), Michael Kennedy (Freaky), and Phillip Murphy (Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard), Heart Eyes seamlessly blends cliches from both romcoms and slashers, resulting in a movie that is sure to find its way onto rewatch lists every Valentine’s Day.

A masked maniac with glowing, red heart-shaped eyes returns every Valentine’s Day to terrorize unsuspecting couples.

The screenwriting is efficient and effective, and wastes no time in drawing audiences into this properly paced story. The kills are over-the-top–almost campy–and the romanic comedy bits are cheesy–in all the best ways possible. But this movie isn’t just about thrills and kills, because the central characters are surprisingly well-developed, and you’ll be rooting for their survival. So sure, some of the plot beats are formulaic, but this is a formula that has worked for over four decades, and demonstrates that genre movies have a timeless quality–a charm–about them that keeps us coming back for more screams.

Much like we saw with 2023’s Thanksgiving, Heart Eyes does the slasher right. Not only does it check off all the boxes for a classically written slasher, it also checks off boxes for a romantic comedy. Perhaps the movie leans more into its horror genes than it does its romcom genes, but it still strikes a well balanced genetic sequence for your entertainment pleasure. Starting with a classic romantic comedy opening, but as soon as it steeps for just the right amount of time, then upending it with a campy and gruesome slasher sequence, informs audiences precisely that for which they are in store for the rest of the movie. It sets the tone right up front, so you’re willing to buy everything else the movie throws at you.

The plotting is both sound as does the slasher reveal right. Yes, in hind sight you can make the observations that Heart Eyes took from this or that slasher, but that’s the beauty–it follows the formula but still keeps it engaging. Never once did I feel that it failed to keep my interest–even when I called the identity of HEK. I liked that this movie felt like classic slasher. We get it all: a big event that kicks everything into gear, a central character with a well-defined external goal driven by an internal need, and a character of opposition. This movie benefits from solid screenwriting and a director that seeks to entertain first and underscores the superstructure with thoughtful material for conversations about romance and relationships in the subtext. The stakes are high: survival! And throughout the movie, the stakes are raised, reminding us that no one is safe and even our final girl can be injured or killed.

Both of our central characters are well-developed. Olivia Holt’s Ally and Mason Gooding’s Jay are relatable and compelling. Are the characters particularly deep? No. But are they sufficiently developed to give these slasher characters human dimension? Yes. Both are strong and vulnerable. Furthermore, Ally feels like an “everyman” that is thrown into a situation in way over her head, but the setup is quite believable. I also like comedic irony in that she works for a jewelry company but has grown disillusioned by romance after being dumped by her boyfriend. Perhaps you work for a company that advocates for or sells something of which you are now cynical. Alternatively, Jay may come off overly optimistic and idealistic, but through that, we also learn that he as fears and vulnerabilities too. My point is, the principle players in this slasher are written with dimension, so you are rooting for their survival.

The most memorable slashers have a trademark mask, weapon, or sometimes both, which is the case with the Heart Eyes Killer (HEK). I’ve no doubt that HEK will find a place amongst the pantheon of slasher icons. After a long time of no new entries into that circle, we had John Carver added in 2023 and now HEK. Heart Eyes is a horror movie made by slasher fans for slasher fans, and its refreshing to see that the horror staple is still alive and well. Through movies like Thanksgiving and Heart Eyes, modern audiences are reminded that genre movies can be just as entertaining or thoughtful as the arthouse movies that are slowly becoming the mainstream. Funny–the movies that used to be the mainstream (i.e. slashers) are slowly finding their way into the arthouse cinemas, while the prestige pictures that used to be confined to the arthouse cinemas are slowly becoming the new mainstream.

Thematically, the movie explores disillusionment in and with romance. From an opening scene that underscores the realization that images captured by a camera are not always reflexive of reality to the cynicism that can grow out of broken relationships to accepting that an idyllic romance may just be possible, it’s all in this movie. Through the apparatus of the slasher, the writers and director are able to explore love and romance in a variety of ways that are rather poignant.

If your idea of a Valentine’s date is dinner followed by a scary movie, then this movie fits the bill! It works as both. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk about all things cinema. 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 LAST SHOWGIRL film review

Anderson dazzles in spite of lackluster screenplay. Pamela Anderson’s captivating performance in The Last Showgirl is truly compelling. Gia Coppola’s film may lack strong, cohesive plotting, but serves as a fantastic character study that remains with you long after you leave the theatre. This is particularly true for anyone that has ever worked in live entertainment or felt left behind due to being perceived as irrelevant or outdated due to changing times and shifting audience taste. This film unapologetically explores universal fears and anxieties associated with change, relevance, and identity. It’s only flaw, which is a biggie, is that I wish the screenplay had been a better vessel for the performative dimension to showcase the talent and passion on screen.

Written by Kate Gersten, the film follows iconic Vegas showgirl Shelly (Pamela Anderson) after her legendary Las Vegas showgirl spectacular is coming to an abrupt end after more than thirty years. Now, she much grapple with the uncertainty of her future because of the extinction of the Vegas showgirl shows.

The Vegas showgirl used to be an institution, but unfortunately shifts in audience taste have all but made the iconic showgirl an obsolete fixture of live entertainment. The idea of the Vegas showgirl in all her sequined and feathered glory is still alive, but that’s all it is anymore–an idea that exists only in our collective memories of a bygone era. Anderson’s performance is particularly compelling because of her effortless ability to oscillate between vulnerability and strength without the end result ever feeling fabricated or unrelatable. In retrospect, I cannot think of a better actor to have brought this character to life than Pamela Anderson, because a signifiant portion of the gravitas she is able to bring to the character is inspired by channeling the energy of her own past glory days, which she infuses into each step and gesture. Anderson’s charisma shines in the scenes where the character performs, even if only in the solitude of her own living room. Delivering a gritty, raw honesty to the role, the former Baywatch megastar relinquishes glamor in exchange for authenticity in a role that feels achingly real and profoundly human.

Shelly represents all those that have worked on stage in live entertainment, whether that is in a theatre or at a theme park. While the focus is on the stage talent, many of the ideas that the film posits can be connected to work backstage as well, as entertainment changes. Shelly is not only haunted by the loss of relevance, but also by the deeper, existential terror of becoming invisible–something we all fear. As such, Anderson’s character connects to us on both a personal level and to society at large. Whether on the Vegas stage, at the cinema, on the television, or even at the theme park (looking at you, Universal Orlando), this film comments on the broader idea of how cultural shifts in audience tastes can be destructive to dreams, experiences, and careers.

Coppola’s film delves provides audiences a candid portrait of a former starlet from the golden age of Vegas entertainment, now struggling to find her way in an unfamiliar world that is all but alien to her. What Shelly is going through is not unlike what some (if not many) of us go through–or fear we will go through during the course of our professional careers or interests. While the film takes place in Vegas, many parallels can be drawn to changes in cinema, theme parks, and television. As shown in the film, the Vegas audience of today has drifted away from the opulent, theatrical traditions that were a staple of Las Vegas toward minimalism, concerts, and new media. And while there is nothing innately damaging about any of those, collectively they rendered the classic Vegas experience obsolete. The audience Shelly once captivated, no longer values or finds enjoyment in that which she represents.

I recently learned this when I found that I will be attending the NAB convention in Las Vegas. And the first thing I did was look to find a classic Vegas showgirl show–like from Show Girls. Didn’t take long to learn that those shows do not exist anymore. So, this film was all the more relevant and even poignant because Shelly represents something that I had hoped to experience, but can only find in, as I gather, Vegas: the Show and films and television from decades past. I was saddened, really. To think that something that was a Vegas mainstay for decades, inspiring movies, songs, and playing a signifiant role in the whole Rat Pack aesthetic, was just a faded memory. Originality was exchanged for an extension of what you could find on Broadway or a concert venue near you.

Something else that hit me was how Shelly and events of the film prompted me to think about my own career and professional aspirations, because the Hollywood that I fell in love with as a kid is nearly a distant memory. Just like the Universal Studios Florida that I fell in love with as a kid no longer exists except for the Horror Makeup Show and the E.T. Adventure. Sitcoms and non-serialized drama and horror programs are nearly an entertainment medium of television past and the slasher film has largely fallen out of favor with mainstream audiences. Even film criticism–it’s no longer about applying a critical lens to motion picture arts and sciences; rather, it’s now about your means of garnering attention on YouTube or Instagram matters more than what you have to say. Even blogging has nearly become a thing of the past. Scary to think that you can become obsolete in the very field in which you’ve worked do diligently, smartly, and hard.

Through this character study film, we learn that there is a quiet, enduring value in the traditions and artistry Shelly represents, even in an age of social media influencer, superficial trends, and fleeting attention spans. Perhaps we are drawn to films like this because, for example, the Vegas showgirl is truly timeless. Maybe she isn’t on the stage any longer, and the last remnants of French Lido culture are extinct except for Moulin Rouge in Paris and (in a manner of speaking) the Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall, but her legacy will live on, if only in our memories.

I highly recommend watching this film if you enjoy compelling character studies. I wish it was more than a character study, but that’s no fault of the actors or director. The weakness in the storytelling of this film is found in the vapid screenwriting and lack of following proper screenwriting mechanics that require, at minimum, a well-defined central character with a well-defined external goal opposed by a well-defined character of opposition.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk about all things cinema. 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