Audacious reach undercut by horrendous storytelling. Director Todd Phillips’ Joker: Folie à Deux, which is a sequel to 2019’s Joker, delivers on both a spectacular shot composition and a compelling performative dimension, but falters nearly everywhere else.
The film demonstrably hopes to communicate a sense of gravitas, but it just comes off as a disjoined mess that is punctuated with musical numbers. The musical numbers themselves are actually the most enjoyable parts of the movie, with their blend of Broadway standards, gospel-inspired music, and even energetic swing. But the storytelling, complete with slapdash plotting and cynical, anarchist tone, is simple unbearable. The real joke here is on the audience, for sitting through this cacophony of fragmented plots and characters. Lady Gaga shines brightly–no real surprise there–but Phoenix’ Joker just painful to watch, despite the exceptional quality of his performance. Additionally, the film’s deplorable depiction of law enforcement is inexcusable, even though Phillips attempts to justify that dynamic dramatically. Aside from the abysmal storytelling, the film is blatantly anti-cop, which perpetuates negative, dangerous propaganda associated with our brave men and women serving and protecting our communities. That’s all I have to say about this film. Do yourself a favor, and find something else to watch this weekend at the cinema.
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.
Wildly heartfelt and uplifting! Universal and DreamWorks Animation’s The Wild Robot is among the best films of the year, period. Director Chris Sanders delivers a truly compelling and smartly written fish-out-of-water story about found family and being more than the sum of our parts–or programming. Easily on track to make my Top 10 Films of the Year list. Based on the book by the same name, DreamWorks Animation hits a homerun with this outstanding animated motion picture that will challenge you, thrill you, and tug at your heartstrings.
Shipwrecked on a deserted island, a robot named Roz must learn to adapt to its new surroundings. Building relationships with the native animals, Roz soon develops a parental bond with an orphaned gosling.
I’ll admit it up front, I cried. It really is such a beautiful animated motion picture that likely rocketed its way into my best films of the year list. Not since The Iron Giant have we had an animated motion picture with such gravitas. While I still feel that 2016’s Kubo and the Two Strings remains the best animated motion picture in the last ten years, I must say that The Wild Robot is solidly my No.2 pick. The strength of this picture is in the compelling story, relatable characters, and efficient plotting (sometimes a little too efficient). My only real negative criticism of the film is the pacing in the first act; while refreshingly lean, some scenes and sequences needed a little more room to develop and breathe. Even though The Wild Robot shares little in common with The Iron Giant‘s plot, it shares Iron Giant‘s heart and soul.
Fish-out-of-water premises have been a staple of cinema for nearly as long as films have been around. So the real challenge for writers and directors is to find original ways of expressing these foundational ideas. And what is precisely what we have in this film. There are actually three fish-out-of-water narratives within the film, and the film is better for them because each of these layers adds personal and interpersonal complexities to character relationships with the world in which they finds themselves and amongst each other. The films provides thoughtful commentary on what it is like to both be in a world that is unfamiliar and have unfamiliar tasks thrust upon oneself.
Furthermore, this film depicts the importance of adapting to one’s environment and overcoming obstacles, even those that are innate. I also appreciate what the film has to say about self-determination and taking personal responsibility for one’s circumstances and one’s mistakes. Fish-out-of-water stories are some of the most relatable, because we have all been placed in an unfamiliar environment, and know how that can feel. It’s a terrifying prospect to be dropped into a world that is alien to us, and the film does not shy away from the challenges, joys, and even the tragedies that can befall us.
Another narrative area of strength in the film is challenging us not to quickly pass judgment on that fish-out-of-water when they find themselves in your world. Or to presume that one’s past behavior is always an indication of how that person (or animal, as it were) will always behave. Yes, past behavior can indicate predisposition to moral and ethical aberrations, but that does not mean that redemption is not to be considered a possibility. I love how the film paints a portrait that we can change, if we have the will and support to do so. It rarely comes naturally, we have to work at it. We have to work at overcoming natural behaviors that may not be constructive and ultimately selfish. We are more than the sum of our parts–or our programming.
To a lesser extent, there is come social commentary on the relationships between the work place and the employee and even cultures that decry the individual in exchange for group think. Without getting into spoilers, the film depicts imagery of how some, if not many, companies treat and feel about their employees. How a company does not view the employee as an individual; rather, as a means to an end, just another cog in the machine that will be disciplined for any individuality or unique expression. But not before the company assimilates the knowledge of that employee, particularly those that do think outside the box. Difference will not be tolerated. That is the feeling of many companies and even governmental systems. The film challenges these ideas by showing cooperation between diverse groups, even groups that are naturally enemies. Furthermore, the film demonstrates how differences can be overcome or even set to the side in order to serve, protect, and survive.
Lastly I’d be remiss not to touch on the global idea of the film, which is the concept of found family. Throughout the entire film there are images of the important role one’s found family fills in life. Found family is that family-like unit that may not be blood-related, but very much fill the same role as a more traditional family in one’s life. It’s a group of friends that have a relationship that goes beyond typical friendship, and includes family-like dynamics. Sometimes these are formed because someone feels rejected or neglected by their real family, and find family with a close group of friends. Other times, and I’d venture say most of the time, a found family can be formed out of the significant distance between you and your family of origin. So when in a new place because of school, work, or even military transfer, it’s important to form a strong bond with friends (or a friend’s family) to fill that important role even when separated from one’s family of origin. We are creatures that have an innate need for connection and companionship.
I cannot recommend The Wild Robot enough! Don’t miss seeing this incredible animated motion picture on the big screen.
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.
An entertaining and terrifying thrill ride. Blumhouse and Universal’s Speak No Evil, starring James McAvoy, excels in plotting and atmosphere but falters in character building and development. Based on the Danish film by the same name, director James Watkins’ version is a methodical and spellbinding descent from dream to nightmare. The highlight of the film is McAvoy’s completely manic performance that is simultaneously comedic and unsettling. Whilst Watkins attempts to bestow upon the high concept narrative thoughtful social commentary on image, isolation, and identity, the commentary is inconsistent and lacks the gravitas to truly be compelling or provocative.
A dream holiday turns into a living nightmare when an American couple and their daughter spend the weekend at a British family’s idyllic country estate.
That which is most personal is most relatable, and can be the most terrifying. And what can be more personal and relatable than the need for a relaxing vacation in the peaceful countryside? That is precisely where this decent into a nightmare begins. Speak No Evil may take its time (albeit justified) in setting up the conflict, but once that second act kicks into gear, it is a nonstop thrill ride into isolation and violation. Keep the cast small, the film is able to spend sufficient time in developing the plot and keeping with proper pacing for the tight storytelling. From the very beginning, the piping is laid for everything that audiences will encounter in the second and third acts, with every shot, scene, and sequence pointing towards the shocking conclusion.
Violence on screen is minimal; however, when it hits, it HITS. But that hit isn’t always visual; many times it is psychological in nature, which in many ways, is even more terrifying. Throughout this film, the terror on screen is transferred into the minds of the audience. Part of that is because of the degree of relatability in this story. Many of us have been on vacation in a new place or even moved to a new place unfamiliar to us–perhaps in or to another country–and we are often desperate for friendship or companionship of any kind in order to begin to feel more at home. Therefore, the setup of this film is one to which many of us can relate–and that’s what makes it particularly terrifying. The thought that we could unwittingly befriend a monster.
While the social commentary on isolation, identity, and image is inconsistent and weak, I appreciate what Watkins was trying to do; although, there is one aspect of the film that was screaming for a redemption arc that was so obviously squandered (and actually hurt the quality of the film). Speak No Evil depicts many expressions of isolation. Isolation from friends and family, isolation from the urban core, isolation within one’s family. And it’s this isolation that greatly heightens the level of suspense and terror.
Additionally, the film depicts the identities (or facades) that we project to the world when we are hiding something or feel insecure because we wield it like a sort of armor. Moreover, this identity can also harbor inconsistencies that lead to a lack of authenticity and meaningful motivation. Perhaps this identity is merely a facade that is intended to make others feel uncomfortable or to project an image that sets one apart simply out of fear of being found out as little more than keeping up with what’s trending on social media. Furthermore, the attempted commentary on image is depicted in a variety of ways throughout the film.
The weakness in the film is found in the character building and development. Not with all the characters, but enough that it mitigates the potential of the film to deliver a compelling story. Without getting into spoilers, I want to discuss where the film had an opportunity an an effective character redemption arc, but pandered to what’s presently trending in movies instead of providing a constructive character arc that would’ve benefitted the film by adding a since of compelling meaning. Strong characters are not strong because those around them are weak; to craft a strong character through that methodology makes for a weakened (and less compelling) character because ostensibly standards have been lowered.
Strong characters are at their strongest when other characters are strong, complete with dimension as well. There is a character in the movie that lost their job, and have been personally struggling with feelings of anger, inadequacy, and failure–that is completely relatable as it is very much a human response to losing ones income and livelihood. Where the film fails is setting this character up to overcome the feeling of failing their family and at life, but never doing anything with it, and merely reinforce weakness. I imagine this was done to make their counterpart appear stronger. But it amounts to lazy storytelling that reinforces negative imagery.
The character that is the most entertaining is James McAvoy’s Paddy. I cannot think of any other actor working today that could’ve brought this character to life nearly as well as McAvoy. In an otherwise par for the course performative dimension in the film, he brings a kinetic energy that draws audiences into the macabre, twisted tale. From the very beginning, we can tell that there is something a little off about his character, but never enough to know precisely where he stands. When he goes full-on manic mode, we are in for the ride because he makes us laugh and gasp in horror all at the same time.
Everything about this movie would make for a fantastic house at next year’s Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Orlando and Hollywood. The farmhouse at the center of the movie is a labyrinth and hints at a variation of the hillbilly horror aesthetic. I can see how this film’s characters and setting could adapt well to an HHN house, so I would not be surprised if we see this intellectual property featured at next year’s HHN.
Speak No Evil may lack dimension that could’ve made it a more compelling narrative than what we received; however, it’s still an entertaining thrill ride that will have you laughing and screaming. A solid popcorn horror movie that has some degree of rewatchability.
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.
A mediocre thriller that is sufficiently enjoyable. M. Night Shyamalan’s TRAP, starring nineties heartthrob Josh Hartnett, is a perfectly satisfying way to spend a rainy afternoon. The most enjoyable aspect of the movie is the performative dimension. Hartnett delivers a chilling performance as the serial killer The Butcher. Before you @ me, his identity is revealed early in the movie. But that’s the point, it’s not a movie that builds its suspense on the identity of the killer; rather, the suspense is built upon how he is going to escape the FBI after being tracked to the Lady Raven concert in Philadelphia. Hartnett’s performance is completely unsettling from the beginning when we sense that there is something a little off about his character. There is a side-plot that goes nowhere, that feels superfluous, but otherwise, it is a tightly written script with thoughtful pacing and a nice payoff. I appreciate this vehicle that allows Hartnett to showcase the range of his talent. Because he pulls off warm and charming and completely unnerving. The cameo by screen legend Hayley Mills was a nice touch, and Shyamalan’s daughter also delivered a solid performance as the trusting daughter. While I cannot say that I was particularly wowed by this movie, I can say that I enjoyed my time well enough. It’s a fun movie that provides a thrilling ride for the relatively brief runtime.
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.
Exhausting. Deadpool & Wolverine is a step down from its predecessors in terms of quality and cleverness of storytelling. While clearly intended to be a movie that reinvigorates the MCU, the screenwriting is both pandering and derivative. While effective in smaller doses, the hyper-meta humor is overplayed to the point of being obnoxious. Moreover, there are many gags that are recurring to the point of boredom. While expertly choreographed, shot, and edited, the endless barrage of fight sequences overstays its welcome. In terms of the premise, the whole multiverse idea that has been integrated into so many superhero movies (both MCU and DCEU) is overplayed. Had the movie been closer to 90-100 minutes, then perhaps the pacing would’ve been better and the Deadpool jokes, satire, and gags would not have felt overplayed, but the 2+ hours runtime works against the full potential of the narrative. If you can’t get enough of the Deadpool schtick, then you’ll undoubtedly like this movie. But if you were hoping for something as clever as the first two Deadpool movies, then you may be as disappointed as was I.
When the multiverse is threatened by a powerful Omega class mutant, Deadpool’s services are retained to protect the multiverse from complete collapse. In order to defeat this new deadly enemy, Deadpool teams up with the Wolverine, whom is recovering from psychological injuries.
Because of the movie’s setup, I had hoped that Deadpool and Wolverine’s goal would have been to eliminate all timelines except the sacred timeline (I guess that’s supposed to be the real/our world), putting an end to the multiverse, but that wasn’t the motivation or goal. So, I suppose that means the multiverse theory will continue steamrolling through this and other franchises. The whole multiverse theory needs to die. At this point, it is way past its half-life and rather limiting on the stories that can be told. Sounds counterintuitive, right? For how could a multiverse limit the stories that can be told? Simple. Everything is connected in a codependent sort of way. In a cinematic (including television counterparts) multiverse, no story, character, or plot is truly independent of the other; therefore, a filmmaker is unable to craft an original story; for any story involving the characters in a multiverse, has to fit in with the rest of the multiverse.
In a manner of speaking, a multiverse actually mitigates freedom of expression and variety of storytelling. When filmmakers return to crafting original expressions of stories and plots for comic book characters, then the quality of comic book movies may agin reach the levels of the Burton-verse. To this day, Batman 89 and Batman Returns are still the two best examples of superhero/comic book movies with X-Men the Animated Series being the best example of a superhero/CBM television series.
Fortunately, Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine’s gritty, no nonsense personality helps to balance out Ryan Reynolds’ manic Deadpool. While I have many reservations with this movie, I cannot deny the great chemistry between the two of them. Jackman’s X-Men the Animated Series inspired Wolverine was my favorite part of the whole movie. Partly because I grew up with X-Men TAS and have enjoyed the X-Men 97 series. Seeing that yellow and blue suit filled me with such happiness. Additionally, there are other nods to X-Men TAS and the Fox X-Men movies, including a particular surprise cameo that I know my friend Shawn of the Solving for X podcast will immensely enjoy! (If you’re an X-Men fan, then you should add this podcast to your lineup). What I liked most about this movie was the X-Men dynamic. Even though I have my reservations, I am curious how this newest iteration of cinematic X-Men will be adapted for the big screen. It is my hope that it will have the quality of storytelling of X-Men TAS that successfully addressed difficult topics in the real world both creatively and accessibly, all while bringing everyone to the table. Just as Professor X dreamed humans and mutants could engage in meaningful discourse one day.
Breaking the fourth wall and meta-humor can be effective tools for both humor and plot/character development; however, recurring pot shots and real-world references detract from the cleverness of the humor, and can ultimately take the viewer out of the movie. More so than the previous installments in the Deadpool franchise, this one is particularly packed with, what I am calling, hyper-meta humor. Hyper in that it’s so over the top and repetitive that it loses its charm quickly and grows stale. Most movies serve as a means of escape from the dullness, harshness, or complexities of reality; this is certainly true of superhero/comic book movies–or rather, was. I don’t know about you, but I don’t go into most movies hoping to be reminded of reality. Unless of course, for example, it’s based on a true story or a melodrama that is intended to evoke a real-world emotive response. So many of the jokes in Deadpool & Wolverine take me out of the movie, especially one recurring pot shot, that I won’t mention, that is borderline disrespectful of an historic Hollywood institution.
Despite most of the movie, in my opinion, to be lacking in genuine, clever humor, I manages to at least laugh here and there. The problem with a movie built entirely on the humor of middle school boys is that the move is ironically inappropriate for that same age group. When the first Deadpool released (by 20th Century Fox), they did the responsible thing by reminding parents that, even though this was a superhero movie, that its intended audience was 17+. I’ve yet to see an effort on Disney/Marvel’s part to remind potential audiences that this movie is rated R, and not appropriate for younger audiences due to the sexual innuendoes and language. Violence wise, other than the increased amount of blood, it’s on par with many PG-13 movies. When Deadpool hit the scene, he was different from that of most other superhero characters at that point, and his schtick was refreshingly funny; now, with the increased amount of middle school base humor in many comic book movies (mainly the MCU), it’s no longer refreshing and now borderline obnoxious. If I had to select one word that best describes Deadpool & Wolverine it would be obnoxious.
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.
R.L. Terry ReelView 
