Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom (2023)

Score: 3.5 / 5

Apparently this is goodbye to the DCEU, the Snyder-pioneered shared universe of DC superheroes in cinematic features. That makes me sad, as I've very much enjoyed all these movies, perhaps even more because of popular disdain for them (compared to the MCU, which I also love, but which poisoned cultural approach to these franchises). Now with James Gunn taking over, who knows what will come next? I confess here and now that I have never much cared for his aesthetic -- it's amazing and singular, just not always a flavor I prefer -- and so I'm nervous about an entire universe under his artistic control. At least we'll always have the Greg Berlanti/CW Arrowverse and, of course, the already existing films, though I'll forever mourn the untimely ending of Patty Jenkins's Wonder Woman series.

James Wan is back at the helm of Aquaman's latest adventure, in which Jason Momoa's iconic Arthur Curry works to save the planet from a new villain and increasingly devastating climate change (note that the title text appears in a melting glacier). "New" villain may be a stretch, but Yahya Abdul-Mateen II's hunky and brooding Black Manta is a bit different this time, still hell-bent on revenge but now possessed by a demonic spirit from the titular lost (read: "dead") kingdom of Atlantis. The whole escapade is a delightful romp through eye-popping CGI worlds, both underwater and on land, and the fabulous production design, though largely impractical, is wonderfully rendered. But all eyes are on Momoa, and he seems determined to go out with a lot of fun. Especially with Patrick Wilson, who returns as Orm with a dry streak that foils perfectly against the star. They've got an unlikely buddy-bro routine here that is infectiously funny in every scene, perhaps all the more because Orm was the big bad last time. 

Wan and his returning screenwriter, accomplished collaborator David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick, jump right in to keep things moving immediately, building off what came before and wasting no time getting to the action. The rest of the wonderful cast seems to get a bit less time in this film, which made me a little sad because Nicole Kidman and Temuera Morrison didn't have all that much to do the first time around either; Amber Heard's Mera, a new mother, is clearly cut from most of the film, appearing only a couple times holding their baby in the background, and her limited inclusion is easily the weirdest part of the film, notable mostly due to the awkward editing around her. The entire theming of this film -- its heart, if you will -- is around Arthur and Orm, learning to forgive each other and redeem themselves, finding balance and trust in their brotherly rule of the oceans.

There's not much substance to this, but fans of the first Aquaman should eat it up. It's more of the same, and while I appreciate a director that grows and evolves, it's also nice to capitalize on tried-and-true material. The family/royal melodrama, the slapstick humor, the fabulously inventive worldbuilding and neon-colored CGI, it all makes these films feel something like superhero camp. I mean, seahorses whinny! Wan gets that, he reigns it in only to let 'er rip, and he glories in the excesses he creates. In a movie like the original Justice League from Joss Whedon, these excesses are the result of chaos behind the scenes making the whole thing unwieldy and erratic if fun; in this movie, they come from a place of love and respect of the material and for the fans. Wan knows we just want to see Momoa punching giant bugs with his devilish grin, so he lets us get to that quickly and often.

Wan's knowing nudge-nudges continue on a more literary level as well, though perhaps not as clearly as in the first, which uses lots of Jules Verne as shorthand. Now we get more of the H.P. Lovecraft that was a surprise in the climax of the first film -- though sadly Julie Andrews's Karathen character is absent this go 'round -- especially with the necropolis and demonic creatures that dwell there. More sci-fi comes in the form of the mechanical enemies, which recall the bots from The Matrix movies and tripods from War of the Worlds. Surely other references abound, given Wan's love for genre filmmaking, but the fabulously ridiculous Clash of the Titans vibes of this globe-spanning adventure make it pure entertainment and spectacle, and I had an absolute blast watching it. That said, I also remember precious little of the actual story, which is clearly not ideal, so I look forward to a rewatch soon.

Dune (2021)

Score: 3.5 / 5

Denis Villeneuve is my favorite director right now for a lot of reasons, and his films are all on my regular favorite lists. As he's moved into science fiction and major franchises, I've been slightly skeptical; not because he didn't knock Blade Runner 2049 out of the park, but because I've worried that studio oversight would limit his vision or shoehorn accessibility into his work. We've seen it happen before. And Villeneuve's latest, Dune, is only exacerbating my anxieties to that end because, while my exact concerns did not come to pass, it is easily my least favorite film from the genius.

As with any big franchise -- especially in this genre -- most discussion will revolve around the adaptation process. Frank Herbert's '60s groundbreaking novel and his five (?) sequels spawned an entire shared universe of interplanetary politics, economics, and war, and it was notoriously labeled as unfilmable after David Lynch's 1984 cinematic attempt. I've never read or seen anything about Dune, so this review will not engage with those concerns, but I'm aware enough of its sprawling world-building scope to understand that there is enough within the franchise to excite anyone interested in heady ideas of environmentally radical geopolitics, anti-capitalist exploitation, and unusually complex gender and racial dynamics that hinge on religious identity. In these respects, I'm planning to read Herbert's series in the coming months, if only to check it off my list. But this film did almost nothing to excite the prospect of more, and given the widespread praise of it, I'd like to reflect on why.

The plot is, I think, shockingly simple. In the distant future, a galactic emperor decrees that the powerful Atreides family will relocate and become the rulers of Arrakis, a desert planet. What seems a curse is complicated due to the presence of "spice," a unique natural resource only on Arrakis, which is crucial for space travel (and hallucinogenic trips) and therefore the most valuable element in their civilization. Making this move, the Atreides patriarch (the ever-handsome Oscar Isaac) realizes they are in the midst of a power play between the paranoid emperor and other dynastic families vying for wealth and influence, none more so than the villainous Harkonnens (and their patriarch, a deliciously wicked Stellan Skarsgard), who previously ruled Arrakis. As the family learns more about their new place in galactic geopolitics, they must fend off traitors; their son Paul (Timothee Chalamet) becomes a man and a messiah, seeing visions and exhibiting powers cultivated by his deeply religious, slightly witchy mother (Rebecca Ferguson), and connecting with the native population to mysterious ends.

As the title card for this film indicates, this is only "part one" of the story, which will reportedly conclude with a "part two," and so it is by no means a complete narrative. Its extensive work in world-building is nothing short of spectacular, and deserves to be seen (and heard, in a droning Hans Zimmer score that threatens to blow out speakers) on the biggest screen available. But its characters, largely archetypal, are much harder to parse because they simply do not go through standard dynamic developments. The closest we get is the callow (dare I say shallow? Sorry, I'm not a big Chalamet fan) Paul becoming a man, but as much as he learns about himself, his mystical gifts, and his place in the violent intrigue of this interstellar Game of Thrones, he ends the movie finally finding "the girl" he's been seeing in visions (Zendaya), which is about as trite a resolution as we could have gotten.

It's a thoroughly entertaining experience, and in Villeneuve's hands often feels like the sort of epic that will add it to fans' shelves alongside major movies from George Lucas, Peter Jackson, Christopher Nolan, Stanley Kubrick, and Ridley Scott. I especially liked that it is so (apparently intentionally) allegorical, and was probably one of (if not the) first in its genre to tap into Islam as a good thing, as well as a certain sensitive portrayal of ecoterrorism. The native people of Arrakis (the Fremen) appear to be modeled after Arab Muslims, and "spice" read to me as oil, which the alien invaders sweep in to take over and fund wars much like Westerners (and in Westerns, at that). I confess myself most confused not with the material itself, nor with its visionary spectacle, but with its technical delivery. The editing is all over the place, in my mind, and almost every time I was prepared to settle in and absorb a new frame -- each gorgeously, gloriously composed -- it would cut to another shot. This worked well during the action sequences, including any time sandworms attacked and flying through a sandstorm, but not so well in intimate scenes or any shots meant to inspire sensations of grandeur or even fear, such as the weird religious test of pain Paul goes through very early in the film.

Perhaps part of my ambivalence for this movie stems from a similar annoyance with other soft science fiction devices, specifically an over-reliance on original vocabulary. You may have already gathered as much, but this movie made very little sense to me because of its thick screenplay, which is comprehensible only if you can effectively remember and contextualize its many characters, organizations, and technologies after only hearing them briefly. I say "hearing," but that's the other major problem: I could barely understand most of the dialogue in this film. Much like last summer's Tenet, I expect I'll like (and comprehend) this movie a lot more when I can watch it with subtitles. The sound mixing is fine, but the editing should have been mindful of their audience, many of whom have no idea what's really going on here, and so need to be able to listen accurately and without driving us to distraction. I appreciated that the screenplay didn't make its exposition feel like exposition, but the flip side is that it took me a while to feel reasonably confident about anything going on.

Justice League (2021)

 Score: 5 / 5

It's the superhero movie event of our lives. Well, single event, as the final Avengers movies (as of this date) were split. It's the sort of gloriously indulgent, remarkably unsentimental, utterly transporting film that epics are made of. This is the new Ben-Hur or Ten Commandments, a continuous and almost unbearably lengthy drama that, while rooted in emotional and spiritual journeys, takes us to worlds we've never seen but now can clearly imagine. Four hours of graphic novel -- and characters of myth -- beautifully rendered in a sqaure (4:3-ish) aspect ratio that looks like panels of a comic book. Seen in IMAX, I can only imagine the transcendent sensation it provokes. And now all I want to do is see it in IMAX, preferably with an intermission.

There's a lot to be said about the road to this movie, and how it's been released, and why it exists at all, but there are far too many others talking about that. There's equally tons to be said about the implications of releasing auteurist visions like this, bucking studio trends, and even caving to mass fanbase pressure. Think of the collapse of the BBC's Sherlock, amongst others, and the revelation of Zack Snyder's newest film feels miraculous. But that's also a discussion for other people and places and times. But it bears noting that I certainly hope the supposed five-film arc Snyder had planned will come to pass with the success of this film. It leaves a lot to hope for, and I for one would be severely crushed if the majesty of this picture ended with itself.

But what of the movie itself? When compared to the 2017 theatrical version, clearly pumped out after Snyder's exit by a desperate studio and a particular director whose antics and style can be criticized elsewhere, this version is a wholly different film. I don't want to say "superior in every way," but it comes damn close to that dangerous descriptor. While I missed some of the awkward humor and forced action of the other Justice League, this one is consistently more organic even as it gives in to its superficial facade, perfecting the beautiful tableaus of battle and spectacle, and giving time and money to its computer-generated imagery. Its villains -- yes, now there are two! -- are gorgeous and tactile; its action sequences are the sort of balls-out insanity we expect from Snyder; its heroes are respected, even revered, rather than crudely used for cheap humor and cheers.

And while I liked the 2017 Justice League more than many others at the time of its release, this movie slapped me right in my opinions time and again upon my first viewing. Upon subsequent viewings (I've seen it now four times) I appreciate its marriage of subtlety and grandiosity more, its appreciation of delicate character development, its exquisite attention to detail and beauty, and its, well, Snyderisms. He's not a director I ever really valued much, and I probably still won't going forward, but I have to say his interpretation and vision for a DC movie universe will remain a favorite franchise of mine for a long time.

A consummate comic book movie, this Justice League is split into seven parts, each with titles and each feeling somewhat self-contained. Given the aspect ratio and digital artwork, and the rumors that this was meant to be a miniseries, I have to wonder if this was intentional, to evoke the serial editions of new comics. The action is easier to follow than in most similar genre movies, thankfully, and while some may still decry Snyder's comparative lack of humor, the deadpan quips and absurdism Snyder injects into this masterpiece makes the marathon sparkle with wit. Whereas many films of this ilk (MCU, I'm looking at you) exist to feed viewers exactly what they know they want, generating money without earning it and digging their studios deeper into fan loyalty hell, this movie is a unique vision by an unexpected auteur, who holds fast to his expression (feverishly radical as it is) despite clear and tempting opportunities not to.

All its characters are here, finally, given balanced screen time with strong individual arcs. Specifically, I needed more from Cyborg and this movie totally delivers. It also gives us Martian Manhunter, which heaven knows I pray we'll get to see in future films. And while the plot is essentially the same, now it feels earned and organic rather than forced and rushed. Moreover, plot is not what's driving this movie, something more superhero flicks would do well to emulate. It's worth noting, too, that both James Wan and Patty Jenkins have been quoted as basing their movies off Snyder's movie, not Whedon's. So what happens in this new movie is, really, the only thing that happens in this movie universe.

But I came, I stayed, and I will not stop preaching about the style here. Sure, the film is as fragmented as any superhero movie, and sure, it consistently skews left of expectations. It's so large and loud and busy that it makes even the wonderful and bloated Batman v Superman feel simple and sweet (and I loved the extended cut of that movie). It's a rush of pop art, with music and imagery and video games on its mind. It's fabulously excessive and gloriously escapist and troublingly incisive into the often unspoken psyche of superheroes. And it's the most -- well, it's the most. I love it. And now I think I'll go watch it again.

Aquaman (2018)

Score: 4 / 5

What a fabulous flick.

It's become cool to hate DC films, and I simply do not understand why. People suck their teeth and shake their heads and say words like "bad" without giving any evidence, let alone articulating why they simply didn't like the movies, which is their real complaint. Maybe because I don't like hopping on hateful bandwagons, or maybe because I'm not a big DC fan anyway so creative liberties in new adaptations don't bother me, but I've never felt less than thoroughly entertained in a DC superhero film. And Aquaman is no exception.

If you, like me, knew precious little about the hero, I'll give you a quick rundown. Son of a lighthouse keeper and the princess of Atlantis (Nicole Kidman), Arthur Curry embarks on a mission to save the world. A year after the events of Justice League, the reigning king of Atlantis, Arthur's half-brother Orm (Patrick Wilson) sows strife among humans and sea-dwellers to justify his preparations to launch an attack on the surface world. Warned of this plot, Arthur begins a quest to find the lost trident of Atlantis, a magic weapon that will establish Arthur as the rightful king and master of the oceans.

It's not an original story, and this Arthur seems to be a curious mixture of Hamlet and King Arthur searching for his Excalibur. Combine it with the visual wonder, though, of a James Cameron film and the rollicking energy of the very best fantasy/action pictures, and suddenly this Indiana Jones-meets-Avatar adventure launches itself into a memorable new stratum. Director James Wan gives us an underwater world like we've never seen, bright and vivid, teeming with life and creativity, completely absorbing in its every detail. There's everything from soldiers riding sharks and seahorses to an octopus playing the drums. What's not to like?

Aquaman provides the DC franchise with a fresh aesthetic and energy. Though elements of its plot are needless or needlessly complex and contrived, it's an engaging story that knows it's running on tried and tested ground. Its novelty doesn't even lie with its hunky hero, Jason Momoa, whose swagger and haunting eyes lead the picture with incredible star power, nor with its other stars, of whom Nicole Kidman is easily the brightest. Rather, this movie works best because it simply has fun with every single moment. An infectious sense of joy bursts out of the screen at you, flooding you with wonder and good humor.

I was enjoying myself, I'd like to note, until one scene right before the final third of the film. In this moment, when Arthur finally enters the Trench, where monstrous hordes were thought to have murdered (eaten) his mother. Escaping the snapping teeth, he enters a portal to the center of the earth. There had been a Jules Verne reference early in the movie, and here it comes gloriously alive as dinosaurs -- yes, dinosaurs! -- swoop over a secret beach, and Nicole Kidman is revealed as the lone warrior who helped Arthur escape the Trench. It was at this moment I stopped enjoying the movie and grew to love it. It's emotional and beautiful and exciting and basically everything I wanted. Oh, and not long after, Arthur gets his magic trident which is guarded by a Kraken-like monster voiced by Julie Andrews. I mean, honestly, does it get any better?!

I'd also be lying if I didn't add that this movie gives me hope for a quality live-action remake of The Little Mermaid.

IMDb: Aquaman

Justice League (2017)

Score: 3 / 5

I've said it before, but I feel a bit of a disconnect with these DC movies because I'm not a hardcore DC fan. So I have no scruples about specific characterizations or honoring classic comics. As movies, I have found Man of Steel, Batman v. Superman (the extended cut, because it's much improved), Suicide Squad, and Wonder Woman to be fabulously entertaining, if sometimes darker and heavier than I'd prefer (though Wonder Woman might be one of my favorite movies this year, period). I don't know that they're really "good" movies, but that's mostly subjective anyway. Zack Snyder has his issues as a filmmaker, and here we see him trying again; what I'm not sure about is the extent to which Joss Whedon remade parts of this film. You can certainly see his touch (by which I mean his ham-handed machinations).

And, as in other cases, I found Justice League to be fabulously entertaining. Batman and Wonder Woman (Ben Affleck and Gal Gadot) are trying to gather strength in the wake of Superman's (Henry Cavill) death. A new threat appears in Steppenwolf, leading an army of bug-men from portals that open above mystical power boxes. These "Mother Boxes", once combined, will apparently destroy Earth, something Steppenwolf has had experience doing, and he ruthlessly attacks Atlantis and Themyscira to collect the boxes hidden there. While he hunts for the third, the team slowly assembles, including self-loathing Cyborg (Ray Fisher), self-doubting Flash (Ezra Miller, as the film's comic relief), and hunky Aquaman (Jason Momoa). Even with their combined strength, they are determined to get more help, so they revive Superman (he's back, thank heaven) to aid them.

What's most interesting to me with this movie is that, at least to my mind, it tried really hard to make things feel like a comic book. A lot of the visuals have intensified colors, dynamic angles, and sometimes laughably poor special effects -- poor, that is, from a realistic perspective. But when you have Atlanteans and Amazons and aliens and cyborgs and metahumans battling oversized bug-people, how realistic can the effects be, really? Some moments unfortunately look like they were lifted directly from Snyder's other films, especially 300, for better or worse. I don't find any of that off-putting.

What I do find off-putting here is the screenplay. The first half of the film is laboriously episodic, almost as if the filmmakers are establishing exactly where commercial breaks will go when this starts airing on television. We lurch from character to character with little sequential logic, learning vague bits of their backstories and getting some grim foreshadowing before we jump to someone else somewhere else. I'm not sure exactly how the filmmakers could have done it better, what with 3 new protagonists to familiarize and get us to root for, plus all their respective secondary characters. And I'm not saying it's bad, just distracting.

Similarly, it feels at times like the writers were battling for control over the film. We have incredibly tense, dramatic moments with the Amazons or with the revived Superman and Lois, but then we have some really funny punchlines the likes of which we haven't seen in this franchise. It's as if the producers and writers decided to take people's complaints about Batman v Superman and try to do the exact opposite with this movie. We have comedy, we have a super simple plotline, we have only one villain, we have much more action and less moody-broody-ness. This is a prime example of how audience reaction can dictate franchise content; I will refrain from monologuing about artistic integrity. What I will mention is that, while the humor ends up a bit predictable and sometimes groan-inducing, there are some gems here. In one scene, Aquaman begins to emotionally discuss his feelings about the team before realizing he's sitting on Wonder Woman's truth-telling rope. In another, the Flash saves a Russian family and, trying to say "goodbye" to them, says "Dostoyevsky!"

Other than those issues -- which are more about preference than anything -- I fully enjoyed Justice League. Well, those, and the fact that the villain was pretty awful. Though voiced by the lovely Ciaran Hinds, Steppenwolf is a totally CGI character, and frankly, it's not great CGI. It's like Polar Express-level animation, which just doesn't fit. Add to that the character's single-minded ambitions and rhino-like fighting style, and you've got a flat megalomaniac who is apparently powerless without his killing axe. I was so much more invested in the almost-fight between the revived Superman and the rest of the Justice League than in any scene with Steppenwolf.

Be sure to stick around during and after the credits, folks. The mid-credits scene is very funny, and the post-credits scene made me angry, but you already know I don't like Jesse Eisenberg.

IMDb: Justice League