The new Dune does not disappoint

I had very much looked forward to the release of French-Canadian Director Denis Villeneuve’s (Arrival (loved it!), Blade Runner 2049) Dune, being a fan of the source material—Frank Herbert’s classic 1965 science-fiction novel of the same name. The alien societies and vivid otherworld settings created by Herbert have long tempted movie makers. However, Herbert’s dense and detailed meshing of politics, ecology, religion, and mythology in Dune has made adaptation of the novel to the screen notoriously difficult. David Lynch’s 1984 attempt makes my list of 10 worst movies of all time (but that’s another post—that film now has a cult following among those who celebrate badness). So, it was with a mix of fear and hopefulness that I entered the theater. There had been nigh 40 years to ponder the mess of ’84; the technology to render the epic alien-desert landscapes and the sand worms of Dune had evolved… I hoped that it would be better. I hoped they could tell the story. I was not disappointed. 

Readers should keep in mind here that I viewed the new Dune having read the novel—twice. So, I was familiar with Dune’s far-future story and vocabulary, the politics of its feudal interstellar society, the waste-land planet at the center of it all, and the power struggle for the planet’s “spice” mineral that supports the galactic empire, allows access to its worlds, and extends the minds and lives of its citizens. Thus, mine is a review from a perspective of familiarity—those less familiar may feel differently about this film. I felt, however, that the early scenes were superb as a concise introduction to the complex sociological and physical settings of Dune—more than satisfying even for the novice viewer. These early pieces efficiently introduce the Noble House Atreides, led by The Duke Leto (Oscar Isaac) and his son Paul (Timothee Chalamet), as they are thrust into a battle for the dessert planet Arakis with its native Fremen people and the former rulers of Arakis, the House Harkonnen. These early scenes have great pace, underpinned throughout by Villeneuve’s epic vistas and Hans Zimmer’s pounding score as they crescendo strongly to a mid-movie battle among the planet’s combatants. Here Dune is just what it should be, big and beautiful… Lawrence of Arabia restructured in a future-universe galactic empire, maintaining feudal-world trappings while traveling at beyond light speed among the Empire’s subject planets... the plot is intriguing and its worlds are spectacular.  

Alas, the ambition and excitement of the first half of the film are not sustained completely in the second. The same, however, can be said of Herbert’s acclaimed novel. In both, the story, after its homeric clash of Houses, slows, even lags in parts, as the details of the motivation of the conflict are laid out; the long-game influence of the Bene Gesserit, a sisterhood of spiritual warriors of which Paul’s mother (Rebecca Ferguson) is one, is explored; and the evolution of Paul as visionary and possible prophesied leader of Arakis and more unfurls. Even in these slow moments, however, the sight and sound of the film are enough to make pleasant the more measured story telling of the film’s second half. The talented cast must be given credit too as a sustaining force, although many—Jason Momoa, Josh Brolin and Dave Bautista--receive modest screen time as the characters of Herbert’s sprawling story enter and exit. Ferguson maybe be the best of the lot as Lady Jessica, torn between her desire to protect her son Paul and the requirements of her shrouded legacy as a Bene Gesserit. Chalamet also excels in capturing Paul's gradual awakening from an occasionally snarky teenage Atreides ruler-in-training to understanding the powers of his other birthright bequeathed to him by his mother. 

In the end… oh, wait… there isn’t an end. Be aware that many of you may be frustrated by the planned installment approach for Dune and the “it’s not really the end” climax. The film does include “Part One” in the title, so we were all warned—think Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Police Academy. Okay, don’t think about Police Academy too long… just know that there’s a lot more sand to walk through after this first Dune chapter. So, lets try to wrap up again: In the end, which is really “just the beginning”, Dune Part One is substantial and right, even exhilarating, from the casting to its story telling, to its epic scale, and I look very much forward to Part Two. Dune Part One is an 8 out of 10. (Dune is streaming on HBOMax, but it really must be seen on the biggest of screens with the biggest of sound system). 

Eastwood swings weakly and misses with Cry Macho

It was Clint Eastwood… 91-year-old Clint Eastwood, yes, granted… but it was still Clint Freaking Eastwood, so why wouldn’t we watch Cry Macho? Turns out… the reasons not to watch this film are myriad.

From a glance at the trailers, Cry Macho looked like another in the line of Gran Torino or The Mule—showing us a past-his-prime anachronism rising, despite it all, to meet a final challenge. In Cry Macho, Eastwood’s protagonist is Mike Milo (played by Clint), a long-retired rodeo star with a long (long, long) life of heartache. Milo’s challenge, as presented by his former boss Howard Polk (played by Dwight Yoakam), is to retrieve Polk’s 13-year-old son Rafa (over played by Eduardo Minett) from “trouble” he has found in Mexico. Milo’s rodeo career was cut short by a serious back injury. The accident, coupled with the death of his wife and son, pushed the Cowboy to depression and self-destruction from which Polk has helped Milo recover, at least to some degree. Now Polk is asking Milo to return the favor and find his son and bring him to the border—the boy is the payback. The plot (based on a 1975 novel by N. Richard Nash) and its challenge are well setup for the redemption of a fallen hero—if only our hero were 30 years younger. The Milo character from the Nash novel was one year removed from his rodeo career when he accepted the heroes challenge; Eastwood’s Milo in Cry Macho is over a half-century away from his wrangling days. It’s a contradiction that plagues the telling of Milo’s story and Eastwood’s direction, and one that the film can’t escape from even if it tried—and it didn’t.

No one should begrudge Eastwood (who also directed Macho) for continuing to make and act in movies. It is clear, even from the mess that is Cry Macho, that he can still, at 91, command the screen. But instead of choosing a character and story that utilize and leverage what Eastwood is today, he asks us to suspend reality and our understanding of the laws of nature so he can pretend to be something that he can no longer be. The film nods only briefly and lightly to the absurdity of Eastwood’s proposal when Rafa asks Milo why, if his father wants him so badly, would he “send and old man to do the job.” The remainder of the story and its characters, however, treat Eastwood’s Milo as if he were Sergeant Highway from Heartbreak Ridge (the aging hero thing worked in Heartbreak… Eastwood was 56 in that one). Through the dull gauntlet the pair face on their journey to the border, Milo is seduced (with unclear motivation) by Rafa’s gangster-like mother (young enough to be Milo’s granddaughter) who also wants to find the boy, he strikes fear in and punches out one of the mother’s young henchmen, falls into a romance with a cantina owner half his age who can’t stop making goo-goo eyes at him, and breaks a wild bronco in a ride that would have surely snapped the real Eastwood completely in half. We watch saddened at the spectacle… shaking our heads, rolling are eyes, groaning at the worst of it, and wondering aloud why Eastwood would choose this hoax—there must have been better things to create.  

The difficulty of Eastwood’s decision to slam a square peg into a round hole seems to poison the rest of the execution of the film—its dialog is awkward; performances, even from the usually interesting Yoakam, are stilted; and the film has an over all lower-budget, made-for-TV feel about it. Eastwood glimmers with the occasional poignant or resonating oration but it is not nearly enough. Here is to Eastwood finding a more appropriate vehicle and giving us one more good flick to wash the bad taste of this one away. Cry Macho is a stinker, 3 out of 10.

In the end, Ten Rings is like all the rest

 

I had sworn off Marvel Superhero movies—at least for a spell. But they said Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings was different… I should have known better. I like Marvel Movies. I was a Marvel comic book kid back in the day. But after 24 Marvel Universe films (Ten Rings is the 25th), I’ve tired some of the super-hero action film arc which always ends in the overblown boss battle and the inevitable set up for the next installment… always propping the next installment.  I had hoped that featuring an new “second tier” marvel hero might give the genre a chance to display a different spirit and trajectory—might be less over-the-top.  And Ten Rings had a hopeful start; it was intriguing in its early stages when its heroes were unencumbered by complicated mythology, magical messiness, and the din and confusion that eventually come in these films as the focus evolves (or devolves) from story to the collision of superpowers. The Legend of Ten Rings was different for a while and then it was just all of the rest… meh. 

It’s not that Ten Rings is bad movie—It has its strengths. One is the casting of Awkwafina (Ocean’s 8, Crazy Rich Asians) as the hero Shang-Chi’s (played by Simu Liu) friend-slash-side kick. Known more for her rap and comedic chops than for action flims, Awkwafina’s Katy provides personality and fun to the introduction of Shang-Chi’s back story of a secret past life with a powerful but broken family. The two close friends work together as hotel valets. Shang is using this unassuming lifestyle to hide from his past life and his misguided and sometimes criminal super-powered father (Xu Wenwu, better known, or represented, in the Marvel Universe as the Mandarin, see Iron Man 3), and Katy is searching for her own path outside of the high expectations of her family and friends. This well-crafted shared uncertainty of place creates a bond between the two that nicely underpins the course of the film. A second highlight is the sweet hand-to-hand fighting that ensues when Shang’s past finally catches up to him. During an attack by a family gang attempting to recover a pendant gifted to Shang by his mother, Shang reveals hidden fighting skills honed under his father's draconian training methods producing the slickest actions scenes of the film—Bruce and Jackie would be proud of the Kung Fu Fighting (well… maybe not Bruce). Alas, from there the clean lines of the early stages of story and action become muddled by the powers of his father’s Ten Rings (mystical weapons of unknown origin), a magical hidden village, an array of mythological beasts, imprisoned soul-consuming reptile minions, and Ben Kingsley and a faceless dog.    

I note that a quick look at the summary review stats for Ten Rings indicates that most of the professional critics and viewers have no problem with the fantasy-heavy and frenetic montage of plot and action components—Ten Rings is Certified Fresh according to Rotten Tomatoes. I agree that the film is entraining—my complaint is that each rendition of superhero film, including this one, reverts to what seems to be an obligation to, in the end, create such a plethora of action and mind-boggling escalation of superpowers that the viewer struggles to comprehend what is what and who is who in the fight. Everything must be thrown from the screen at us as if the volume of it was the ultimate measure of “fresh” or entertaining. Maybe it is. Maybe I am missing something. I just think it would be nice to see a new Marvel superhero arc equation—one that doesn’t end up at the same coordinates as all of the rest. Still... 6 out of 10. 

Jungle Cruise is a silly, fun trip

 

If not a majority, then certainly a substantial percent of folks living in this country have been on Disneyland’s Jungle Cruise ride. And if you were over 4-years old the first time you took the cruise, you probably wondered why you spent the time. There’s no doubt, the ride is terrible—from the corn ball (and dated) surprises planted in the murky waters of the fake Amazon to the low-brow, pun-laden, attempts at comedy (and studies have proven that the pun is the lowest form of humor… it’s science) from your ship’s Captain, it’s just the worst. And yet we continue to go on the ride through the years… there’s always a line out the back. And I think we do it because we are all in on the joke and the ridiculous ride has evolved into something enjoyable, fun, and nostalgic. And so it is with Jungle Cruise the movie—it’s also silly and fun, but, unlike the ride itself, a fairly well made piece of entertainment.   

The idea for a feature film based on the Jungle Cruise ride was conceived years ago after the success of Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. I’ll note that Jungle Cruise is not as good as the first Pirates movie—makes sense, Pirates is the better ride too; but it does succeed at many levels by using a similar formula to Pirates—a combination of acceptable story line, colorful characters and cast, and execution that holds tight to the spirit and attributes of the ride. Dwayne The Rock Johnson, who produced the film, is solid as Frank the Jungle Cruise skipper.  Emily Blunt (A Quite Place 2) is loads of fun playing botanist Lily Houghton who enlists Frank to guide her to a mythical tree of Amazon legend whose flower can cure any disease. Johnson and Blunt fight and flirt along the dangerous trip creating an effective Grant-Hepburn-like hate-love chemistry. The casting of the films other rich characters is also on the mark, particularly the assignment of Jesse Peimons (the FX Fargo series) as a sinister and quite-mad German aristocrat who is after the same tree to aid the Reich in prevailing in the ongoing first World War, and Edgar Ramirez as a 16th century Spanish conquistador cursed to eternally reside on the river for his unworthy attempt to exploit the tree's powers.   

Maybe you are all stroking your chins now… squinting your eyes and thinking about German war-time conquests, snakes, hero-heroin love-hate relationships, and sea-fairing undead… have we seen this somewhere before? Maybe just down the Disney Adventure Land road—cough, the Indiana Jones ride… cough, cough, Captain Sparrow? It is true that Jungle Cruise looks a lot like previous swashbuckling classics—heck, there’s even a scene with Johnson and Blunt swinging on a vine that looks almost identical to Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner’s aerials in Romancing the Stone back in the day. But these usages are more of an eye-wink homage to the genre than artifacts of lazy writing. The film does suffer, however, from a common adventure/action-picture malady—that is, too much action in the action. There are so many moving pieces to some of the later confrontation scenes that the end effect is more disarray than excitement. Jungle Cruise is also better in its first half, with the dimwitted fun diffusing more to spectacle in the second. And yet, a smile prevailed across my face as the film ended. Satisfactions with mediocrity or something else? Go see it and decide for yourselves – 7 out of 10. 

A Quiet Place Part II is not the best sequel ever made, but it's good enough

In 2018, silence meant survival in the film A Quiet Place. In that first installment, Director John Krasinski (The Office) created a world where sound, made in the open, summoned blind creatures of unknown origin but with a certain purpose, and that purpose was to kill whatever created the vibration tickling their acute alien (we presume) hearing. Krasinski used that artifice to generate a fresh source of high anxiety for the viewer, and it worked… it worked really well. For A Quiet Place Part II, Krasinski told us he was bringing more of the same and also promised to answer the questions left by the first including the origin of the invading monster horde. The most important question to be answered, however, was whether the sequel would grab its audience like the first did... in other words, how long would the quiet be interesting? 

A Quiet Place Part II opens with day zero of its version of the apocalypse during which we are harshly reminded of what the Abbott family and their small town community are up against—and that would be giant , super-fast, insect-like creatures appearing from seemingly nowhere and everywhere to wreak havoc on anything (but humans mainly) that so much as sneezes. It is implied in this opening that the monster mayhem is wide spread… that is, the human race might be in trouble. Krasinski moves quickly, however, away from that bit of world-scope context and back to the very local story of what is left of the Abbot family versus the sightless killers. If you saw the first film, you will recall that Krasinski’s character, the family’s father, did not make it, having sacrificed himself to save his family. Evelyn, the mother (Emily Blunt), remains now in Part II, guarding over a hyper-anxious son Marcus, his deaf sister Regan, and an infant baby. Their home base has been destroyed and they must venture out to find a new safe place. Carefully observed and charted signs indicate that there are other survivors near; but are they friend or foe in this new, every-person-for-themselves world?  

Although the intrigue of the premise may be reduced this time around (we're familiar with these things' modus operandi from the first film), a Quiet Place Part II is still provocative... at least most of the time.  With the family’s patriarch gone, Krasinski smartly moves the story’s focus onto daughter Regan played by Utahn (and Mueller Park Jr. High School alum) Millicent Simmonds. The film is at its best when it is switching the viewer from the perspective of a hearing person to the silence of Regan’s world. This is especially effective during alien attacks, but Simmonds steals most of the non-action scenes as well as she becomes the family’s best bet for survival. QP2 is a bit less crisp in its second half, however, as it settles into a more worn alien invasion tale—humans versus a foe that appears invincible but has a chink in its armor.  Sci-fi and monster thrillers from War of the Worlds to Signs have excelled in this box but it comes off as a bit boiler plate in Part II.  

QP2 is slightly less fresh than its parent but still worth a big-screen view.  Krasinski breaks his promise though—the sequel answers very few of the questions spawned in the first film. Which means you can look forward to a third installment. A Quiet Place Part 2 gets 7 out of 10. 

Godzilla vs Kong is more stupid fun

OK folks! I’m fully vaccinated and back in the movie houses. And what better way to start my renewed life than with a view and a review of the horrendously ridiculous Godzilla vs. Kong. When the first of the Legendary’s MonsterVerse Godzilla reboots came out in 2014, I wrote that the film Godzilla (clever title) was a paradox—a simultaneously terrible and wonderful film and the worst film I might ever recommend you pay to see. Leap forward to this fourth installment of the MonsterVerse, Godzilla vs. Kong: the creators of the reboot have had nigh on a decade to alter or evolve the course of large-lizard films, and yet… their direction remains the same—Godzilla vs. Kong, like the first three MonsterVerse flicks, is an imbecilic, nonsensical, glorious ride… which is just how it should be... or must be.

Who would dare tamper with the Godzilla movie series mojo anyway? Is it even possible to take a more serious and sensible stab at it and what would be the point? Would anybody really be enriched by a probing essay on the depths of Godzilla’s psyche? Would any of us be better people if we heard anything close to a physically feasible explanation for the modern-day existence of a 200-story-tall ape living on an uncharted island and a giant, chubby reptile with pine trees growing on its back? Of course we wouldn’t, so why put forth the effort to do such things. Better, as the film's creators (Adam Wingard directed from a screenplay by Eric Pearson and Max Borenstein) reckoned, to plow your imagination and resources into the majesty and hilarity of the massive-monster throw down. And plow they did—Godzilla vs Kong has monster mayhem in spades including monster on monster fisticuffs (Kong has a great right cross). Their battles are spectacular and spell-binding events. They continue to be staged in the most massive of cityscapes to maximize destruction amid the punches, laser blasts, and tail tosses. And adding to this joy is the constant tease of possibly getting the answer to the question we’ve been asking ourselves all of our lives… what if Godzilla fought King Kong, who would win? 

Between the magnificent skirmishes, we are pummeled with stupidity of course—hollow earth monster origins theories, monster-skull DNA-driven titan robots, monster-to-monster ESP, and so on.  These fantasies are explained by the scientists in Kong’s corner, by a band of conspiracy theorist on Team Godzilla, and, of course, by evil people looking to exploit the monsters for their greedy objectives. These groups are satisfyingly outrageous, but the unforced error that Godzilla vs. Kong commits is that they, or the things they say, are not clever enough. Outrageousness is always better when it is delivered with humor… something that Godzilla vs Kong has very little of. Not that it doesn’t try. Comic relief is intended to come from Team Godzilla led by Millie Bobby Brown (Eleven from Stranger Things) returning to the scene from Godzilla, King of the Monsters. But Millie and her posse of nerds whiff repeatedly in their attempts at humor as they search for the reason for Godzilla’s sudden reappearance and why the big toad is in such a bad mood. Stupid movies can still be witty; and wit can be bought… so please go hire the Guardians of the Galaxy writers for Godzilla 5 and make us all a little happier.   

Although the trifecta of stunning, asinine, and funny is not achieved in Godzilla vs Kong, the film is still a good time. And now that we’re all feeling more confident about our immune systems, I strongly recommend springing for tickets to see these monsters duke it out on the big screen (the film is also streaming on HBOMax). Godzilla vs Kong gets a 6 out of 10. It’s really the highest rating that any Godzilla movies past, present, or future can get… and it’s still good enough.