Morbius (2022)

Score: 3 / 5

I'm so tired. Fandoms can be nice places to meet people and see creativity blossom in support of franchises that mean a lot culturally and personally, but increasingly they seem filled with toxic, hateful people who just want to tear other things apart in cruel and hypocritical ways. While the MCU is currently blessed with a fairly solid fanbase, almost all others suffer, even those adjacent to that behemoth. Take Sony's repeated attempts at breaking into Marvel properties, each of which I have thoroughly enjoyed. Its most recent attempts seem bent on exploring the villains as antiheroes, hence the Venom series and upcoming Kraven the Hunter film. The latest, based on one of my favorite characters from the comics, is very much in line with the odd aesthetic choices Sony has cultivated, and I am totally here for it. Apparently not everyone has been, but as usual, the clamor online largely sounds like angry children decrying the film as "bad" or "terrible" without actually stating reasons for their hatred and without acknowledging that their opinions aren't objective. So let's talk about Morbius.

The "living vampire" here takes the form of Jared Leto, who for the first time in several years actually looks and acts kind of normal on screen. He's recognizable, despite lots of effects to make him initially appear sickly and frail, and it's refreshing to remember he can actually perform when not covered in prosthetics and hiding behind caricatured mannerisms. Surprisingly physical here, his Dr. Michael Morbius is instantly believable in the film's early scenes, desperate to cure himself of a rare blood disease. His previous work has resulted in blue, artificial blood that works for many people, including children with similar illnesses, and has won him a Nobel Prize that he rejects early on. He just wants a better life and permanent salvation.

Anyone could guess that he'll end up getting the opposite. And soon enough, after collecting vampire bats from Central America and experimenting on them, he ends up splicing genes and fusing blood with them, transforming himself into a super strong, super fast vampire. Most of the middle of the film, as with many origin stories of super people, occupies its time with its protagonist learning the limits of his powers, which include echolocation and, somehow, a keen ability to fly. His bloodlust is sporadic, and it occasionally turns him into a monstrous gargoyle-like creature; at one point he says "You won't like me when I'm hungry" and it's unexpectedly hilarious in a delightful, metafictional way. The film's mythology leaves much to be desired, but then, don't most of these stories? As Morbius himself once notes in the film, there isn't as much "science stuff" to it as he first thought, and I think the screenwriters included that little gem just to piss off the hecklers.

With Leto's tortured performance in the middle of all the chaos -- and trust me, the plot is pretty chaotic, to say nothing of the action -- I found a lot of surprisingly thematic meat to chew on. Much like Tom Hardy's nuanced and vaudevillian turn as Venom, Leto digs into physical movement and earnest emotion as Morbius, questioning the extent of illness or addiction as it relates to his behaviors. Less effective is what the visual effects crew does to him; his appearance is great, but the CGI around him never quite manages to make sense. Smoky trails of residue follow him around when he moves quickly, in effects that feel ripped from these kinds of movies in the late '90s or early '00s, and when his ears prick up, they look rippled and pulsing like cords on a harp in an effect that had me actually retching in my seat. It's uniquely horrid.

If he's a hero, why do his attempts to help others result in murder (especially graphic murder)? Why, in the film's early scenes, does no one blink an eye that Morbius's ethically shameful and completely illegal experiments lead him to international waters for the deed? But then, does it matter? It allows for some fun nods to other vampiric fiction, such as the drifting ship littered with bloodless corpses (Dracula) named the Murnau (director of Nosferatu). It also allows the characters to return home changed, a crucial moment in any superhero film, which sets up the primary external conflict for the plot. Enter Matt Smith as Morbius's surrogate brother, jealous and wealthy man with the same blood disease who takes the same "cure" but embraces the more monstrous side of his new identity. He's the primary villain, apart from Morbius fighting with his own impulses and lusts, and Smith is really wonderful in the film. 

I love that we finally have a superhero film that is an honest-to-Stan-Lee horror film. I don't love that it's only PG-13, like Venom, and so can't quite give itself over to the necessary elements that could make it fabulous like Deadpool. It's never quite as dark as it wants to be, though I felt suitably icky with dread multiple times, such as when a nurse walks down a hallway with motion-sensor lights and gets stalked by a vampire. It's not nearly as gory or violent as it should be, and most of the action is sadly unwatchable due to uninspired cinematography, an excess of VFX, and bewildering edits. But it's still a fairly good time, despite a general lack of humor, and hopefully a suitably dark entry in the burgeoning Sinister Six franchise for Sony.

Life (2017)

Score: 4 / 5

Drifting in space longer than they intended, a small crew of researchers studies the soil of another planet only to find, astoundingly, the presence of alien life. Though initially excited by the discovery, the young life quickly advances and asserts itself with violence. One by one the crew members' lives are taken by the smarter and stronger monster who kills with inventive, gory spectacle, until a final showdown is staged in an attempt to stop it from reaching Earth.

Sound familiar? Life is essentially a revamped telling of Alien, Ridley Scott's seminal 1979 masterpiece of science fiction horror. It would be wrong, however, to write it off as a cheap remake or reimagining. Apart from its basic plot, Life differs in significant ways from its inspiration, especially in theme, characterization, atmosphere, and of course budget. Life is foremost an ensemble piece that uses its diverse cast well, centering on their working relationship in space, a sort of artificial life apart from Earth, and how they cope with their environment. Jake Gyllenhaal's character (the Ripley rip-off, sort of) has been in space for a long time and his body's atrophy indicates a physical need to return to the planet. Hiroyuki Sanada's has to watch via webcam as his daughter is born. Ryan Reynolds's uses a sharp tongue and wit to keep everything light and silly, while Olga Dihovichnaya and Rebecca Ferguson hold their own with a curious mixture of strength, fear, and discipline. Ariyon Bakare plays their fearless scientist who is almost immediately punished for his extraterrestrial curiosity, and his performance stands out in the otherwise effect-and-story-focused film.

In many ways, Life is to Alien what The Shallows is to Jaws. Not quite a remake or reimagining, it deals with similar elements -- setting, plot structure, even villain -- to consider an alternative form of the story with varied themes and state-of-the-art special effects. Though far less cerebral and iconic than their muses, these new films are prime examples of expensive, solidly made B-movies with bankable casts and entrancing visuals that draw us in and spit us back out, providing a solid slice of entertainment in the meantime. Life is aesthetically no Alien: no clear sexual undertones, no gritty and grimy Gothic sets, no heartstopping scares. It honors its predecessor a few times, and one homage in particular made me squirm as the young alien orally rapes Ryan Reynolds and wreaks bloody havoc on his innards. On the other hand, it also declares itself independent of its predecessor; the beast's first act of aggression here is not to use its hand to latch onto John Hurt's face, but rather to viscerally break the hand of Ariyon Bakare. The alien's destruction of the symbol -- the hand equals mankind groping where it doesn't belong -- at once reinforces the motif and stakes out its new path in similar thematic territory.

The film also feels like a response or a companion to Gravity, with its awesome weightless cinematography and comparable meditations on the sanctity of life and the nature of rebirth. While writers Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick are too comfortable in their comedic skins to be totally effective, they do manage to surprise us with especially dark moments of arresting horror, notably Jake Gyllenhaal's recitation of the children's book "Goodnight Moon", a moment that should have been extended. Far more successful is cinematographer Seamus McGarvey (a personal favorite) who focuses images to their most grotesque, intimate and immediate, and creates a space for the emotions of the moment to reach through the screen.

Life won't be the most horrific thing you've ever seen, but it's a hell of a good time.

IMDb: Life