Tag Archives: Universal Studios

WICKED: FOR GOOD movie musical review

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Some movies soar on broomsticks; this one never quite gets off the ground.

Wicked: For Good arrives with sky-high expectations, a beloved Broadway pedigree, and a cinematic world forever shaped by the 1939 Wizard of Oz. And while the heart for the material is undeniably present—director Jon M. Chu’s affection radiates through nearly every frame—the execution is fraught with problems that prevent the film from casting the spell it so eagerly attempts. It’s a movie overloaded with spectacle yet starved of narrative discipline, regrettably proving that sometimes a production can have all the right ingredients and still mix the potion incorrectly. There’s no question Jon M. Chu loves this material—his enthusiasm is evident. But passion alone isn’t enough. The film desperately needed stronger producing and organizational forces to ground the project, refine its pacing, and balance its emotional register. Instead, we get a production that feels at once over-managed and under-shaped.

Now demonized as the Wicked Witch of the West, Elphaba lives in exile in the Ozian forest, while Glinda resides at the palace in Emerald City, reveling in the perks of fame and popularity. As an angry mob rises against the Wicked Witch, she’ll need to reunite with Glinda to transform herself, and all of Oz, for good.

The most glaring issue in this movie is the pacing. This story never needed to be two movies. One Broadway show, one complete screen adaptation—simple math. Instead, Wicked and Wicked: For Good, collectively, feel like a single narrative forcibly stretched and compressed simultaneously. Scenes either end abruptly or linger with self-importance, giving the whole film a stop-and-start rhythm that betrays any emotional momentum. Moments that should breathe are suffocated, while others that should be tightened sprawl endlessly. Narratively, the film leans heavily on contrivances rather than character and plot development. Plot turns feel telegraphed or unearned, creating a sense that events are happening because the script demands it—not because the characters have earned the journey. Emotional beats are pushed rather than developed; the film tugs at heartstrings it hasn’t taken the time to weave. Many sequences feel manipulative instead of meaningful, leaving the viewer aware of the strings being pulled rather than swept up in the melody.

The film maintains the emotional equivalent of flooring the accelerator from beginning to end. Everything is heightened, everything is urgent, everything is presented at maximum volume. Without quieter resets, the story becomes exhausting rather than exhilarating. The lack of modulation leaves little room for nuance, making even potentially impactful moments blur together into one extended crescendo.

And then there’s the Oz problem itself–it was bad enough in the first movie, but this one amplifies all the flaws in this picture. From the opening Universal logo and Wicked title card, both stylized to resemble their 1930s counterparts, it’s clear the film wants to position itself adjacent to the classic Wizard of Oz. (And yes, I am aware that the Broadway show is based on books and not the 1939 classic, but this is a screen adaptation that is going to by default be connected spiritually and literally to the events, imagery, and characterizations of the original movie, but I digress). Whenever Wicked intersects with that iconic imagery, the visual and narrative disconnect is jarring. Tonally, textually, and aesthetically, nothing matches. Two of the most egregious examples are the Wicked Witch of the West’s castle, a location fundamentally misaligned with its 1939 counterpart in both history and design, and Glinda’s bubble. Hello??? She is clearly a magical being and travels by a magical bubble. To rob her of those elements is to rob her original characterization. For a film so eager to evoke some level of nostalgia, its disregard for consistency with cinema’s most beloved fantasy feels baffling.

The editing is among the film’s most distracting flaws—awkwardly timed transitions, uneven scene construction, and moments that feel spliced for convenience rather than cohesion. The cinematography dazzles with color and movement but contributes little to storytelling. It’s all flash, no narrative substance: beautiful images that ultimately amount to little more than digital confetti. And we cannot talk editing without addressing teh cringe CGI–the kind of digital spectacle that feels less like movie magic and more like a rough animatic accidentally exported at full resolution. Emerald City looks less like a tangible place and more like a high-end screensaver—everything polished to a rubbery sheen, with no texture, grit, or atmospheric depth. Characters often appear detached from their surroundings, as if composited into a digital diorama rather than inhabiting a lived-in world. Instead of mixing practical sets with digital enhancements, the film leans heavily on full-CG environments and even characters, resulting in octane-fueled and intimate moments feeling artificial. It’s like looking upon a world of fantasy that feels more like a giant animated backdrop with actors placed within versus a world that feels tangible.

Not even the presence of Michelle Yeoh is enough to elevate the film’s sense of class or gravitas. Although, it’s hard to blame her, given that she’s phoning in a performance built on scraps of narrative substance. In this second installment, her character is little more than an ornament of prestige, offering neither meaningful development nor any real impact on the story. Jeff Goldblum, likewise, delivers a surprisingly muted turn, coasting on his trademark charisma without ever fully engaging. When two performers known for commanding the screen seem this disengaged, it speaks less to their abilities and more to a film that gives them virtually nothing with which to work.

Wicked: For Good reaches for greatness but ultimately fails to stick the landing. It’s a film overflowing with heart yet undercut by structural missteps, contrived plotting, mismatched continuity, and a visual approach that prizes spectacle over substance. For a story about defying gravity, it’s ironic that this adaptation never quite lifts off the ground.

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

JURASSIC WORLD: REBIRTH movie review

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Possesses dino DNA, but missing strands and sequences, leaving an uneven and forgettable movie. Jurassic World: Rebirth begins with an intriguing enough premise, but the characters are poorly written, which is then amplified by way of a subplot that only serves to clutter the story. After a rough first two acts–except for a thrilling and fantastically written T-Rex chase scene (that was part of Crichton’s original novel and script for Jurassic Park)–the third act is surprisingly exciting and suspenseful, and at times terrifying.

Zora Bennett (Scarlet Johansson) leads a team of skilled operatives to the most dangerous place on Earth, an island research facility for Jurassic World. Their mission is to secure genetic material from dinosaurs whose DNA can provide life-saving benefits to mankind. As the top-secret expedition becomes more and more risky, they soon make a sinister, shocking discovery that’s been hidden from the world for decades.

Perhaps Koepp’s screenwriting works best when the original version of a script is written by the novel’s author (which, I know wasn’t possible for this movie in more ways than one), and he then crafts the original version to be more effective for the screen. To put it simply, no one knows what is going on or when/where they are. Harsh? Not really, when the movie opens with lazy exposition through on screen text describing an event that happened 17 years ago…keep that in mind, 17 years (placing it in line with Jurassic World not Jurassic Park). But then the characters talk about the research and development facility as if it was connected to the original park–not possible. Even popcorn movies should adhere to the logic of their own world building. It’s as if no one thought about the events that unfold in this movie, and how they relate to the previous movies. Kind of basic storytelling logic.

There are many elements of this movie that fail to make any logical sense (and again, that is the logic setup by the movie itself) or are setup, and never developed or connected to any motivation or stakes. To go into them, would take too much time.

Aside from logic problems, the movie is plagued by poorly written characters, an extraneous, shoehorned subplot, and weak first and second acts (with one exception in the second act that was thrilling). While I appreciate the minimalistic cast of characters compared to the cast of characters in all the Jurassic World movies, there are two competing groups that are pretty much independent of one another and could have each been in their own movie altogether. Yet, somehow, they are sloppily fused together in this movie. For argument’s sake, we’ll call them the Mercenaries and the Family. The Mercenaries and their outside/action plot are fine–I’d even go so far as to say ‘that’ story is sufficiently interesting. The Family and their plot felt extraneous and ultimately of little importance to anything that happened. It’s as if there were two different movie ideas (1) centered on the Harvesters and (2) the Family. And I think either by itself would have made for a better movie than putting them together. These decisions left the movie feeling muddled and crowded.

There is a T-Rex sequence in the second act that is fantastic! It very much harkens back to the sci-fi horror-adjacency of the original movie. Of course it helps that Crichton’s original Jurassic Park novel and screenplay thereof contained a similar sequence. Fun fact: this sequence in the novel and original Crichton screenplay served as the inspiration for Jurassic Park: The Ride at Universal Studios parks. It plays out wonderfully in this movie, like a short film in and of itself, because it’s setup well, developed strategically, and resolved thrillingly.

Even though there are a couple of characters that are almost fun or compelling to watch (almost), the rest are more disposable than a red solo cup at a frat party. You’ll find yourself rooting for the dinosaurs to win. Of all the characters, there is one particularly so annoying and deplorably behaved, that you’ll want the first dinosaur you see to pick him off, (and question why on earth his girlfriend would be with him and why the dad would let the boyfriend walk all over him–answer, bad writing). Other characters are one-dimensional or the casting choice never sells the character. All around, there are many character and casting problems, resulting in a movie wherein you’ll hope the next dino attack happens soon–and preferably ends with one less character.

Where the movie “finds a way” to leave you on a high note, is in the third act. Despite the slapdash screenwriting throughout the first and second acts, the third act is wildly entertaining and even at times, terrifying! It almost compensates for the first hour and forty-five minutes. The (weird) dinos are “monsters” again, and the various chase sequences each offer something different (even though one is a recreation of the Kitchen Scene from the original movie). The stakes are raised and the level of terror leaps off the screen. So often, movies start well and fail to stick the landing; with this one, it fails to stick the launch but definitely sticks the landing.

SUffice it to say, if you took the first two acts from The Lost World: Jurassic Park, and paired them with the third act from Jurassic World: Rebirth, then you’d actually have a pretty good, memorable movie.

As an OG Jurassic Park fan (and Lost World apologist, except for the third act), I hate having to write reviews such as this one for a franchise installment. But, the more I thought about this movie, the more stupid it became. I suppose it’ll make for a fun enough 4th of July weekend watch, but doesn’t do much beyond that.

Perhaps, these movies will “find a way” back to greatness one day–doubtful as it seems.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio 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

JAWS 50: Celebrating Fifty Years of Cinematic Legacy

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“[We’re] gonna need a bigger boat” as we celebrate the 50th anniversary of the massive, radical game-changing effects of Steven Spielberg’s career-defining JAWS.

Jaws was the first official blockbuster. Looking back at the original crowds of 1975, you’d think the movie was a one-night-only big event. Hence the term blockbuster. The adjective blockbuster, commonly attributed to big summer movies, literally derives from the fact that queues for the box office wrapped around city blocks. It busted the block, so to speak. And the rest is history! Coupled with the summer release date and ticket sales, the allure of Jaws generated levels of enthusiasm and interest never seen before. The film took in so much money at its opening, that it nearly made up the entire production budget by the end of the first week. Furthermore, distribution and marketing companies began to use Jaws as a model for future marketing efforts in order to attempt to generate another blockbuster effect.

Fun fact, two years earlier The Exorcist commanded massive crowds of people that wrapped around blocks to see the provocative motion picture. But, the initial release of the film was rather small and it’s marketing was much more reserved. In contrast, Jaws‘ marketing was unlike anything that had been seen before and it’s initial release was a extreme wide release, and upon that initial release crowds were already wrapping around the block. The Exorcist may have achieved the massive crowds first, but it was earned over time; whereas with Jaws, it was instantly a blockbuster from day one.

Never before had there been such a popular and critically successful film in cinemas. Much in the same way Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho is often credited, and rightly so, for being the first modern horror film and forerunner to the classic slasher; likewise, Spielberg’s adaptation of Peter Benchley’s novel Jaws is credited as the first modern creature feature horror film and forerunner to the blockbuster (or event movie). I am not negating King Kong, Creature from the Black Lagoon, or other predecessors; it’s important to take note of the word modern. Aside from excellent, visionary direction, both Psycho and Jaws have three important elements in common (1) powerhouse cast (2) strategic suspense and (3) a brilliant, oft-parodied, burned in your mind musical score.

Instead of building a thriller on shock value, disturbing imagery, or jump scares, author Peter Benchley’s screenplay for Jaws focussed on crafting a cinematic atmosphere that had an intimate, claustrophobic feel built upon well-crafted drama through character development and conflict, at the center of which is a little heart. Different from contemporary creature features, Jaws picks off swimmers in the single digits and those attacks all happen at a single beach on a small island off the coast of Massachusetts. And instead of an entire agency hunting down the man-killer shark, three unlikely men are forcibly thrown together in order to track down and eliminate the terror from the waters off Amity Island.

Simply stated, Jaws is thematically rich from beginning to end, and there is no way to capture all the nuances of the film in this section; however, I’d be remiss not to spend some time on the emotive power of the landmark horror film. At the core of Jaws’ expressive meaning, it explores themes of greed, scientific hubris, and the consequences of unchecked ambition. Suffice it to say, the most prominent theme in the film is the folly of man. The folly of man is expressed through the character-driven story more than it is the search and destroy of the shark.

Chief Brody’s fear of the water and his struggle to protect his community from the shark reflect universal anxieties about the unknown and the fragility of human safety. In a manner of speaking, Chief Brody journey is one of redemption for the death of the little Kitner boy. Matt Hooper represents scientific hubris and dangers of unchecked bravado. And Quint’s obsessive quest to hunt and kill the shark serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of pride and arrogance, highlighting the destructive power of man’s hubris in the face of nature. Interestingly, all three men are seen as outsiders. Chief Brody and his family are new to town, Hooper is a white collar guy in a blue collar town, and Quint is socially an outsider, despite being a fixture in the community. During the 1970s, there were growing fears of outsiders coming into communities to upset the natural order of things.

Keeping the principle cast and environment small, Spielberg was able to focus attention on character development and interpersonal relationships in order for the drama to perform strongly and naturalistically. Big things do come in small packages. Coupled with the strong performances from the entire leading cast, this brilliant combination of cinematic elements works together to give us some of the most memorable lines, scenes, and cinematography in movie history. Furthermore, real people swept up into an impossible situation and foolish decisions enable the audience to identify with the characters and the setting in ways that make the terror feel all the more real and close to home–or the beach.

While Bruce is often thought to be the villain of Jaws–and no mistaking it, he is definitely an antagonist–I argue that the true opposition to the goal in the plot is Amity’s mayor. If we accept the goal is to apprehend or kill the man-eating shark, then Mayor Vaughn serves as opposing that action. Perhaps you’ve never thought of the true villain of Jaws being Mayor Larry Vaughn. A close analysis of the plot reveals that Jaws (Bruce) functions more as a catalyst for the principle conflict between Chief Brody and Mayor Vaughn. Other than the death at the beginning of the film, the Mayor is indirectly responsible for the remaining deaths. After all, it’s due to his utter complacency, negligence, and classic greed that led to the other deaths.

For most of the film, we spend far more time with Chief Brody’s continued conflict dealing with the social pressures, desires, and ill-fated decisions of his boss than we do with shark attacks. Mayor Vaughn fails to acknowledge the sheer gravity of the dangerous situation, and close Amity’s beaches in order to keep his citizens safe. Interestingly, even Jaws channels some of the anxiety of the 1970s. After all, the primary reason why Mayor Vaughn refused to close the beaches was because it would economically depress his town that literally depends on the summer dollars. In effect, he fed them to the shark. Seems like a villainous action to me. Bruce was just being a shark, Vaughn was the true villain.

Jaws forever changed cinemas and became the inspiration for countless other filmmakers. Another prominent filmmaker even cited it as part of his inspiration for a film that would be like a combination of Jaws and a haunted house, set in space where “no one can hear you scream.” In addition to serving as inspiration, many films have tried imitating it, putting their own spin on the premise. Even comedic satires featuring similar plot points have released over the years. The film’s box office success solidified Spielberg as a visionary director. Interestingly, the movie sparked a renewed interest in marine biology and conservation. Its timeless appeal continues to captivate audiences with thrilling storytelling, unforgettable characters, and groundbreaking practical effects. Jaws will forever hold a special place in the annals of film history and continue to be a holiday horror film that hundreds of thousands around the U.S. watch every 4th of July. 

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio 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

DROP (2025) movie mini-review

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“Drop” in on a lot of fun at the cinema. Universal and Blumhouse’s Drop is a highly entertaining Lifetime-esque thriller that requires a prescription-strength dosage of suspension of disbelief. With a charming cast and adrenaline pumping suspense and tension, Christopher Landon’s latest movie delivers an engaging time at the cinema.

Violet is a widowed mother who goes to an upscale restaurant to meet Henry, her charming and handsome date. However, her pleasant evening soon turns into a living nightmare when she receives phone messages from a mysterious, hooded figure who threatens to kill her young son and sister unless she kills Henry.

If you enjoy the Lifetime movies of the 2000s, then this is right up your alley. The stakes are high and you’ll empathize with our central character of Violet, and root for her and her family’s survival. Because the lead cast quickly makes a meaningful connection with the audience, the plot holes (and there are many) almost feel irrelevant because the movie’s strength isn’t so much in the realism of the plot as much as it is in the naturalism of the plot. The movie is disconnected sufficiently enough from reality that it functions as an escapist picture, therefore the fact that there is little to no way this plot could ever happen due to the ridiculous nature. Between the high camp, high stakes, and charming cast, Drop blends the aesthetics of a high-budget thriller with the emotional pitch of a Lifetime movie—often to hilarious and unexpectedly entertaining results.

From writer-director Christopher Landon, Drop is directed with the kind of slick, over-serious tone that almost dares you not to laugh, Drop thrives in that uncanny cinematic space where implausibility meets irresistible entertainment (a.k.a. the Lifetime movie formula). The film is not so much interested in realism as it is in emotional immediacy—and it serves it with gusto. What makes Drop work is the sheet Oscar-level commitment. In an era wherein movies that typically fall in the vein of this one, wink at the audience to cue them in on the joke, this movie never acknowledges the absurdity of the premise. Which proves to be the winning hand, because the audience’s experience is surprisingly immersive. The stakes may be inflated, but the emotions feel real in the moment, and that’s what keeps viewers engaged. it to be consumed by its tornado of drama.

Even though the movie never becomes self-aware of its absurdity, that isn’t to say that the campy levels of plot devices and drama don’t play a role–on the contrary–the movie’s absurdity is its strength. Whether you’re watching in genuine suspense or howling with friends at the sheer audacity of it all, Drop delivers. And it’s way more fun than it has any right to be. Solid as the plot is from a storytelling mechanics perspective, it definitely defies conventional logic. But the movie completely surpasses any expectations I had going into the movie. Drop is a deliciously unhinged suspense thriller that feels like a Lifetime movie on a Red Bull bender—highly recommended for fans of unintentional camp and cathartic chaos.

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 WOMAN IN THE YARD horror movie review

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Immersive setting and thoughtful premise meets with poor plotting. The Woman in the Yard is a haunting reflection of trauma, grief, and loss that accomplishes little beyond delivering unsettling imagery. The rich southern gothic atmosphere draws viewers into the story, but the experience ultimately falls flat due to poor writing. That said, I appreciate what the film tries to do with its intriguing premise, but the insufficient plotting and meandering diegetic direction hamper what could’ve been a rather fantastic psychological horror film.

Ramona (Danielle Deadwyler) becomes crippled by grief after her husband dies in a car accident, leaving her to care for her two children alone in her rural farmhouse. Her sadness soon turns to fear when a spectral woman in black (Okwui Okpokwasili) appears on her front lawn, warning her “today’s the day.” As the mysterious figure creeps closer and closer to the house, Ramona realizes she must protect her children from the evil woman who simply won’t leave them alone.

In the vein of The Others, this film takes place in an isolated house in the countryside featuring a mother and her kids. Except instead of leaning into a New England gothic aesthetic, The Woman in the Yard exudes a rich, dimensional Southern gothic atmosphere. From the house to the yard to the ominous, mysterious woman in black, this film draws us into the story. Unfortunately, the story into which we are drawn, leaves much to be desired.

If I were to simply focus on the atmosphere of and settings within the film, The Woman in the Yard would rank highly for me, but it’s disappointing that such a rich world is wasted on such a vague plot and meandering narrative. Even the performative dimension is compelling. All four performances of the main (and pretty much only) cast members were solid. I only wish they had been given more to do in order to drive home the themes of the film.

I opened with comments concerning the various themes in this film concerning grief, loss, and trauma, and I enjoyed how these internal feelings were externalized for the audience. The use of mirrors, shadows, and (digital) double exposure gave this film a tangible, experiential depth. But, regrettably, the imagery and performative dimension is pretty much all that we get in this film, for the plotting is weak and lacks discernible direction.

Without getting into spoilers, our central character of Ramona must battle the various affects of the trauma incurred from the car accident that left her injured and her husband dead, which have manifested themselves in the woman in black and related paranormal and supernatural occurrences in the isolated Georgia farmhouse. She is challenged to resolve that which she is battling in order to provide for her children after the tragic passing of her devoted husband and father to their kids. Just like those that experience a life-changing traumatic event (often in the aftermath of a tragic accident) begin to reflect upon their life and examining their impact on and relationships with others, Ramona is reflecting upon her life. The psychological process of reflecting on life is dramatized in and expressed through the use of mirrors, mirrored imagery, and (what in analog terms would be) double exposure. This part of the film works incredibly well! But the plotting isn’t there to sufficiently support it for storytelling cinematic storytelling purposes.

The woman in black is a paranormal manifestation of something in the film that I cannot reveal as to avoid spoilers, but I loved this character! She is creepy, intriguing, mysterious, ominous, and more of what makes a great monster in a horror movie. Between the Southern gothic atmosphere and the woman in black, I very much expect to see this movie adapted into a Halloween Horror Nights house. The character of the woman in black is rather terrifying, yet you won’t encounter much in the way of traditional scares. Her character (and her chair) are so thoughtfully crafted that her mere presence is enough to send adrenaline through your body. In terms of “rules” for a monster, they are established early on, and everything to follow functions within those rules. I would not be surprised if the woman in black is borne out of real folklore, because so much of what happens feels connected to campfire ghost stories and superstitions.

While The Woman in the Yard may lack in the plotting department, it delivers many elements that can be sufficiently enjoyed. It may not be one that I will revisit any time soon, but I still enjoyed the movie well enough.

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