Tagged: Movies

“Risk Averse: Explanation Ruins” A Review of Digger

Digger is no danger zone. It is safe. It is tepid. It literally explains itself.

There’s a moment early in the movie when all my criticism of TC’s approach to his recent tidal wave of interviews and promotional panels was reckoned. That was nice.

There are probably lots of lessons for future filmmakers in Digger. Good for them.

But we are kidding ourselves if we don’t plainly confess that for all the talk about the rewards of taking risks and pushing oneself past barriers in life, this movie takes no risks. The fancy-named director didn’t take any risks. TC didn’t take any risks—after all, he’s just play acting.

The Death of Looney Toons, A Review of Coyote vs. Acme by Dave Green

As I mentioned in the last post, I took the family to Coyote vs. Acme on opening night, this past Friday. To be clear, “the family” means my Ethiopian (US Citizen from Ethiopia) wife and our two young kids, 4 and 6. This was the kids first trip to a movie theater and the main reason for the delay is I won’t take them to anything that even smells Woke/DEI/Commie. Naturally this eliminates nearly everything not produced by Angel Studios or Uwe Boll. And neither of them have made anything I want to show the kids.

When my brother, nephew (18), and I went to Mortal Kombat II, I nearly chuckled audibly as I turned the corner to see the small-ish crowd was comprised of a bunch of men my age. How embarrassing that I expected a regular smorgasbord of folks.

On Friday, the ticket-scanner dude was sure to chuckle when he saw what we were headed to watch what he called, “The funniest movie of the year. You’re going to love it.” I agreeably told him that from what I saw I was thinking that his assessment would prove correct.

This time, as I turned the corner, and probably a bit earlier in the movie-going experience if I’m honest, I was again surprised. There were no kids. There were no children in the theater. Maybe a tween was there. But otherwise, it was old farts like me. Unlike MKII, this time I was a bit perplexed. Why wasn’t this movie becoming the next Nemo?

Watching partly through my eyes, and partly through my wife and children’s eyes, I discovered the reason. Despite my best efforts, despite my every effort the world has gone soft. It is impossible to find comedy in destruction. Anything that is attacked is soon defended—and defended as the most worthy cause ever.

To be clear, the entire storyline of the very funny and enjoyable film is that cartoons do not suffer. The premise is that the same rules that would apply to people do not apply to cartoons. In short, Coyote loses. (Keep in mind, Coyote always loses.) Practically, this means that we can do things to cartoons that we cannot do to people (or animals, plants, oceans, prisoners etc). Sometimes we can even benefit from having tortured, destroyed, blown up, annihilated, dropped, glued, electrocuted, abused, squished, smooshed, and killed cartoons. And, of course, they never actually die. Why? Because they are drawings.

But here in 2026land, the weaker a person is, the stronger. The lamer, the more perfect. The more injured, the most healed. The uglier, the more beautiful. The dumber, the smarter. The more shameful, the more noble. The fatter, the hungrier. And to beat all, the stronger is the meaner. The unfunny result, not that you need to be told, is our drawings have Civil Rights. The failure of Coyote vs. Acme is another birth pang of Civil Rights 2.

In the end, despite Mr. Green telling a whole story, a complete story, and a story which made sense (or as Twain put it–the story “accomplished something and arrived somewhere”), he killed the Looney Toons. Or we killed the Looney Toons. Hard to say.

****

I have to add before I go to press that I see the path forward–not the particulars, but the general way. The Looney Toons need a Frank Miller The Dark Knight Returns treatment. I doubt that I am the individual to do more than espouse hope for such a project. But I mention it in case any true artists reading this are facing writer’s block. I’m picturing, a la Bruce’s fireball ending to the car race opening, an even slicker Bugs Bunny initiating the larger comeback story by–all timed to absolute bangers–battling Elmer Fudd as usual, but this time it’s all modern. Fudd is wearing real hunter’s camouflage patterns. He is using some AR variant (school shooting/mass shooting type)—way too powerful for his intended prey. And then Bugs points out all the problems with Fudd’s myriad decisions, which infuriates Fudd, to the point that Fudd really tries to kill Bugs only to find him—not slipping down a rabbit hole—but becoming some oppressed minority. And it has to be the most spectacular version of the minority. Burka wearing, bruised face Muslim woman. Super fat woman at the convenience store. Liberal, childless professional in remote work with a dog walking into the Teams meeting. I am talking the most obnoxious depiction of our twisted Civil Rights 2 reality. But it must be hilarious to kids. Like all the stereotypes are plainly funny in all the ways that make kids laugh. The kids laugh at the ridiculousness of Hunter Fudd giving up when he sees what kind of rabbit the suave Bugs is at heart (but we know is a disguise). And then you go through all the Looney Toons characters and bend them to contemporary versions of the spirits which gave them a heartbeat in the beginning.

But until and unless this happens, the Looney Toons are toast. Even a fan of this movie knows that.

“What’s In A Name?”, A Brief Review of Masters of the Universe by Travis Knight

To catchup unfaithful readers, and remind faithful readers, my most prescient observations on “movies about toys” include (1) re: Michael Bay’s Transformers, Bay understood how to make a movie based on the way boys play with the Transformer toys, and according to boys’ rules (ie “Crushed! Dead! But wait! He’s back alive!) and (2) re: Ridley Scott’s The Last Duel, Scott’s final duel is the most perfect rendering of what every boy pictures a duel to be.

That said, the opening of Mr. Knight’s Masters of the Universe continues, without plagiarism, the theme Bay hit upon (and resultantly has no concern with imitating Nolan’s TDK motif) and, what’s more, creates, in a way that doesn’t even hint as disrespect towards any child at heart for being a child at heart, the single greatest scene of what it feels like to hold a He-Man toy as a boy.

For that, Mr. Knight and all those involved in the movie are to be applauded, and rousingly so.

The rest of the movie (post Adam’s finding the sword) is perfectly fine. The comedy is real. And the action can be satisfying.

Lastly, and this is difficult to describe (so please do check it out) but the scene in Adam’s boss’s office is frightening in its ease. How can a He-Man movie be more trad than Taylor Sheridan and all other wannabe rebels in this time of Black Helen’s?

Why Am I So Nervous About The Odyssey?

Some first reviews are out. Hollywood Reporter has a smattering of headlines.

The professional class, our betters, are gushing.

They are gushing about set pieces and Nolan’s bravery in embracing horror, as well as many other non-book parts of the movie.

If you haven’t been following, the influencers have taught me a new word, “ratio’d”, during the ramp up to this movie. Apparently the young’ns are trying their own hand at reading entrails and the pairing they have noticed and named lately is when a trailer has less likes than either dislikes or comments. (No news is still good news, it seems. Meaning, comments are never in support of trailers.)

So The Odyssey trailer has been ratio’d. And it has terrible casting.

What does it have in the pro’s category?

IMAX film. Live Action/limited CGI—maybe none. (Not quite sure). Nolan’s reputation. The title matches an epic poem, the epic poem of Western Civilization, that no one has read recently.

That’s about it.

Will I go? No. I have been reading and the honest truth is that it is starting to take its toll on my movie watching. Books are just so much better than their movie adaptations, especially when the adaptations are woke. So no. I’m sure I’ll watch it at work. But no money will support these things.

Dad vs. Park Grandma

A- (5.85 yrs old), J- (4.25), and I biked 2+ miles to our favorite park. No training wheels. No issues. It wasn’t the first time.

Somehow, once at the park, while walking their bikes, I heard a noise and turned to see J- had fallen. Two moms nearby fulfilled their unsolicited and unhelpful duty of pitying the boy. I pedaled on, wondering why my progeny ever got off their bikes.

After our lunch at the park, it was now A-’s turn to make a noise while falling which attracted my attention. This time it was a nearby, skinny grandma who lurched and wobbled in indecision as she couldn’t decide her place in the wide world.

I, projecting loud enough to be sure this skinny (I want to say “crackhead” but you’ll think I’m judgy) grandma would hear, said, “She’s okay! She’s okay. Bruce Wayne’s dad let him pick himself up, and he became Batman. So I figure that’s the best way.”

I would’ve expected silence, and maybe a chuckle. I mean, what options had I left open for response anyhow? Firstly, it ain’t her kid and the father made his pronouncement—even giving the reason. Secondly, mind your own business, especially when a father is around.

But nooooooo.

She replied, “Or how ‘bout she just has girl power?”

It’s been over an hour and I am still under a disturbed spirit.

If my daughter had girl power, if girl power existed, then she wouldn’t have fallen, ya stoop-id b-!

No, ma’am. My daughter doesn’t have girl power. She has a dad. And her dad likes Batman, especially in the role of allegory. And her dad knows that humans of both sexes fall down, and when that happens, the only thing to do—the best practice for all places and times—is to let kids learn how to pick themselves up.

Literate vs Illiterate Love According to Hollywood

I recently rewatched The English Patient. (You should too.)

I also am looking forward to seeing Avatar’s latest installment, but refuse to pay.

Today I want to draw attention to the way Hollywood handles the constantly interesting problem (to literates) of illiteracy still existing on the Earth.

In EP, she says, “I wanted to meet the man who could write such a long paper with so few adjectives.” Any man who could write that paper would know instantly that she was his for the taking.

In Avatar, there is an assertion (“I see you”), which is context dependent. Men can say it to men in greeting, but it can also mean, “I want to have babies with you.” Here’s the second meaning’s scene.

Question to ponder: Are they actually communicating the same idea?

Follow-up for “this-is-difficult camp”: Are they even able to communicate the same idea, as in, can illiterate people actually “see as far/much/deep” (metaphorically) as the literate?

Enjoy!

“White Sinners”, A Review of The Bride!, by Maggie Gyllenhaal

Motionless pictures can be art, too. The Bride!, like Sinners, is art for the reason motionless pictures can be art. The trouble, the thing that has everyone ate up, is Ms. Gyllenhaal’s picture is in motion. Hmm.

Lucky for her, the door for this kind of post-post-modern, detached, boundary-less art was opened by Mr. Coogan (and I am sure others). Just the same, I have always heard about some people who are able to be captivated by a single painting for hours. That is the closest this wind-riding-knuckle-dragger-with-a-blog can use in describing how this movie works.

Is The Bride! a reimagining? I have no idea. The interwebs confirm that there is no book by Shelley. Apparently there is an early movie and some other movies and books of the titular concept (Bride of Frankenstein). But I am pretty sure this film is just an original continuation story—and it should have been marketed and reviewed as such.

The most striking part of the movie was the leading lady’s effortless range. I mean she goes from repulsively demonic to irresistibly infatuating in the blink of an eye.

The gore is realistic and nauseating—another instance of “I hope my kids never find out I watched this”.

There are scenes of obvious first wave feminism (…like I know what that distinction means to experts. What I mean by first wave is that some women don’t want to be stay at home moms). But unlike some reviewers, I didn’t see it as proselytizing or advancing an agenda. It’s just a movie, folks. At ease!

On the whole, in addition to Sinners, I place it alongside Joker 2. I would like to give it a second chance now that I know what’s coming. But I am not sure there will prove to be enough time.

The Briefest Review of Glenn Powell (After Watching Running Man)

He ain’t got it.

Arnold had it.

Sly had it.

TC has it.

Even the name “Glenn Powell” cannot be a part of the “it” that he so desperately seeks. Tragic, in a way.

(To be honest, the movie was actually better than I had heard. Preachy at times, but, on the whole, enjoyable and entertaining.)