Jurassic Park/World Mash Up Yields Only Average Results In World Dominion

 

Early on in Jurassic World Dominion, Dr. Ellie Sattler (Laura Dern), returning to the team from the earlier generation of JP Universe characters, engages a baby dinosaur, gives it a rub on its horn, and exclaims with nostalgia “it never gets old”—well Dr. Sattler… it kind of does. It’s clear that World Dominion’s creators spent a lot of money and generated a large amount of CGI code to make the union of the Jurassic Park and the Jurassic World characters special and fresh. And I’ll give them credit for combining the old and new crews without invoking the multi-verse—bless them for this. But very little of the end product is fresh and the few pieces that are new and different are kind of silly. 

Dinosaurs of all shapes and number of teeth now run amok across the planet thanks to the disasters that occurred in the previous Jurassic films. And although these invasive species are now laying waste to the world’s ecosystems (including the human one), the story is the same—nasty humans in big corporations are still trying to exploit the animals for gain in numerous nefarious ways--shocking!  It is within these dire, yet usual, circumstances that our old and new Jurassic Park/World friends gather, like aged and dismissed superheroes, to, once again, rise up and try to save the planet. 

I’ll admit, it was fun to see the old crew—Dern’s Sattler, Sam Neil’s Dr. Alan Grant, and the always slightly askew Dr. Ian Malcolm played by Jeff Goldblum. They’ve gone their separate ways all these years but now unite to uncover a plot by the evil Biosyn Corporation that includes the release of giant prehistoric locusts (of all things) into the global ecosphere. Meanwhile the younger generation from Jurassic World (Chris Pratt’s Raptor training Owen Grady and Bryce Dallas Howard’s Claire Dearing) have hooked up and are attempting to preserve all dinosaurs one animal at a time in the most dangerous and inefficient fashions. Their dinosaur rescue efforts are kind of a side gig for them however, as they have a larger calling--keeping the clone of Charlotte Lockwood (daughter of Dr. Benjamin Lockwood, Dr. Hammonds former partner, see previous films) under cover as the evil corporations are after her too for convoluted reasons. 

Yes, there is a lot going on in World Dominion leading to some truly weak intrigue with our old heroes cloak and daggering their way into Biosyn while the more youthful heroes attempt to stifle the kidnapping of their ward, the young Lockwood. The result is a mash up that seems to aim toward a Mission Impossible and Indiana Jones vibe. Alas, the intrigue and ensuing action is not as clever or as tense as any of Tom Cruise’s MI cappers and Pratt is certainly not Harrison Ford. Soooo, we are left with the dinosaurs. And they are magnificently rendered… again. But how many times have we seen Velociraptors skid arounds turns and bump into walls as they chase elusive humans on slick surfaces. And how many times do we need to experience the “Apex Predator” throw down…? Six times is my guess, as there are six Jurassic Universe films. Steel yourself again for the same close calls. And prepare yourselves again to be relieved when the same escape maneuver is invoked… the magic extended hand. You know the trick, reach your hand out toward the dinosaur who is about to eat you and whisper “eeeeaaaasy Blue (or whatever name you’ve given your dinosaur)”—think Eleven from Stranger Things without the strained face and the nosebleed. It works every time. 

OK, OK… I know, I’m beating a dead T-Rex here, you got my drift long ago—I think World Dominion is significantly silly, in an average and reparative sort of way. It’s still a great looking ride even though you’ve seen most of the props before. Maybe a bigger view of the film’s prettiness would better counterbalance its mild staleness. Take in the film in on the IMAX, I didn’t but it might help. 5 out 10 for World Damion, and happy 4th. 

Older "Maverick" Soars in New Top Gun

How does the saying go… “some things get better with age”? Please add Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell and whatever airplane he is riding to the list of those things. It’s taken nearly 40 years, but Cruise’s “Maverick” is back in the big-screen cockpit, flying just as fast and just as hard as ever, but now carrying decades-more baggage. It is undeniable that TG:M’s action is faster and smarter than the first film; but what pushes this film from fun to fantastic is its depth, which its parent film had very little of. Director Joseph Kosinski (Oblivion… another Cruise film) and Cruise have injected the new Top Gun with a surprising amount of heart. Sure, there’s still some cheese ball in it, but the film’s creators have allowed an older, wiser, sadder Maverick to bring a new soul to the action, and the combo makes for the blockbuster of the summer and maybe next summer too; it’s really that good. 

The opening scene of the movie signals us that some things have not changed with “Maverick” in those 40 years as he pushes an experimental jet beyond its mach-10 speed limit to prove a point to the unimpressed brass. The less than glorious result of his stunt puts him in trouble with his commanding officers, a position, we discover, that Maverick has found himself in often since his Top Gun days. Maverick is still the super-skilled stick jockey, but his career seems to have run out of do-overs. In what might be his last chance, Maverick is assigned to return to Top Gun to train (and train only) a crack group of pilots (Top Gun winners themselves) for a near impossible mission to disarm a nuclear threat. 

Thus, the stage is set for our weathered but remarkably young-looking hero. He now must solve the puzzle of the mission; convince his commanding officers that his plan can work; and unify his trainees and select the best of them to execute the mission. Maverick’s solution to the combat Rubik’s Cube seems impossible and the training for and final execution of it yields the most incredible and tense flight combat scenes on film. Mingled with this joy ride are several surprisingly warmhearted and intense moments between Maverick and his team, including his old partner “Goose’s” orphaned son “Rooster”; and a genuinely touching dialog between Cruise’s “Maverick” and his old rival turned protector Val Kilmer’s “Iceman” 

Although certainly fresh, TG:M is not without flaw. Early scenes introducing us to the Top Gun trainees harken back to the silliness and sophmorism of the first film with the incredibly good-looking trainees posturing and strutting about like rutting bucks, calling each other by their very-cool flight names and snickering at each other through pretty faces with strong jaws and cleft chins. Worse, maybe, is a mid-movie, just-skins-no-shirts (except the one female Top Gun pilot) beach football game staged by Maverick to build teamwork, raising the question whether all top Navy pilots spend 40-hours a week in the weight room with their personal trainers, and several more hours in the tanning salons—none of them, by the way, looked like they really knew what to do with a football. These minor missteps are easily outweighed, however, by the rest of the film and the strength of the rest of the film is all about Tom Cruise. When Cruise is on the Top Gun screen the film cooks, when he is not, it doesn’t. Fortunately for us all, he is on the screen a lot. 

It’s a guarantee that the incredibly well-crafted combat acrobatics will thrill… but, in the end, it is this new, old Maverick and his time-informed perspective that gives TG:M the more powerful story that the first film lacked. Maverick once was the cocky daredevil that sacrificed the whole for the one—him. Now real-combat experience, pain, and loss have colored his view and his aim. Along with the thrills and spills, the film reaches to capture that new struggle and those emotions of the old warrior, the pain of leaving people behind to do a dangerous thing, the heartache of responsibility for others and the fear of making a mistake… the same mistake. And the result is good, very good.  It is rare that a sequel so clearly out does its predecessor. Top Gun: Maverick does it in spades. 8.5 out of 10. 

Postscript: Having been raised by a fighter pilot and combat veteran of two wars makes Top Gun and other such films especially intriguing to me… emotional for me. Although my father did not fly the generation fighters that we see in Top Gun, I still get some feeling of what he and others like him experienced (just a super small glimpse) in dangerous times. I also thought that maybe Col. Joe Lambert might look more like a Top Gun pilot than Tom Cruise… you be the judge… who’s the real Maverick? 

The latest shot at Death on the Nile

 

Pleasantly surprised, I believe, is a good description of my feeling after watching Kenneth Branagh’s (Henry V) latest take on Agatha Christie’s 1937 whodunit. The new Death on the Nile is a sequel to his 2017 Murder on the Orient Express with Branagh returning to both direct and again portray Christie’s supreme detective Hercule Poirot: this time he’s sleuthing on a boat instead of a train. Branagh’s Orient Express (2017) was a true yawner. Google “disappointingly dull” and you’ll get a link to a trailer for Murder on the Orient Express—go ahead, try it… it’ll be right at the top. So, maybe Branagh just got better with practice, or maybe it was the presence of Ridley Scott as a producer of this film, but Death on the Nile is much better, more attractive, better paced, sharper, snappier, crisper than its prequel; and the surprising result was a satisfying Tuesday afternoon at the theater. 

For all settings… including sailing vessels, the Agatha Christie murder-mystery formula is constant—assemble a diverse group with members connected by at least one of the seven cardinal sins, then kill somebody and let the fun begin. This time our potential murderers and victims are gathered to celebrate the marriage of the wealthy and beautiful Linnet Ridgeway (Gal Gadot, aka Wonder Woman) to the handsome but jobless Simon Doyle (Armie Hammer). Riches and beauty are usually surrounded by jealousy and greed and the Nile wedding party is chuck full of both—it’s not long after the group embarks on their river cruise that folks start to drop dead. Fortunately for all, Hercule Poirot is on board. Branagh sparkles in his portrayal of the eccentric Belgian super sleuth and his subtle deductions and ruthless examinations of those he suspects… which is everyone. The other pieces in this cloak-and-dagger are also well played with standout performances by a nigh-unrecognizable Annette Benning as a wealthy artist and family friend of the bride, and from newer-comer Emma Mackey (Netflix’ Sex Education) as the obligatory women scorned. Motives mount and suspicions shift and turn, but it’s never clear to you, until the bitter end, who is killing whom… unless you’ve read the book or have seen one the myriad previous screen depictions, or you overhear some yahoo in the seat in front of you who has done one or the other give the killer away to his wife while noshing popcorn… come on!

Poirot is possibly Christie's most famous character. He is certainly the longest running, appearing in more than 30 of her novels. But the fictitious detective himself has always been a bit of mystery—Christie did not spend much time on his origin. Gratefully, and with great benefit to the film, Michael Green’s screenplay gives a bit of a back story—a glimpse at a pivot point in Poirot’s life that has, in part, shaped him into the genius but emotionally dethatched crime solver that he is. The reveal is effectively leveraged throughout the film providing heart to Poirot’s cold path to solving the mystery of Death on the Nile and to Poirot himself. Such value add-on’s do not make Death on the Nile any sort of award winner—and I doubt that was what the film’s creators were shooting for here. But the film is nicely put together and entertaining. You may forget the experience quickly, but you’ll enjoy the few hours of mystery while you’re in it. Death on the Nile gets 6.5 out of 10.

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.