Wonder Woman 1984 (2020)

Whatever the anthesis of “cynical” might be – earnest, genuine, or just plain optimistic – Wonder Woman 1984 is that. It’s a bit less prestige than its first-rate predecessor, using the 1980s as lavish set decoration rather than World War I as historical fiction, but it’s no less engaging, even as it goes for broke in the direction of a bit more silly. Indeed, WW84 is possessing of the kind of idiosyncratic confidence that comes when a filmmaker like Patty Jenkins has made the film she truly wants to make, rather than bow to studio meddling (as we have since learned happened in Wonder Woman’s climactic third act).

It’s 1984, and Diana Prince (Gal Gadot) has made her way to Washington, D.C., where her job at the Smithsonian brings her into contact with the Dreamstone, a veritable monkey’s paw that grants a wish to anyone who wields it. In ways you might and might not expect, the Dreamstone entangles Diana’s coworker Barbara Minerva (Kristen Wiig), infomercial huckster Maxwell Lord (Pedro Pascal), and Diana’s late lover Steve Trevor (Chris Pine), giving lie to the old adage, “Be careful what you wish for...”

 

I truly loved WW84, breathlessly exclaiming once or twice, “That’s terrific.” I’m aware that not everyone did love it – its fortunes are in decline over on Rotten Tomatoes, for one – and I can’t speculate as to whether the streaming service simulcast does WW84 a disservice, whether the spectacle plays better on a more impressive theater setup. (The Cinema King has no complaints on that front.) What I can say is that I was captivated by the film’s earnest whimsy, its confident suspension of disbelief, and its certainty in its own moral position. There is not much hemming and hawing over the right thing to do, and there is seldom any question that Diana has the strength to do it. Nor is there much self-reflexivity or embarrassment about the inherent silliness of the MacGuffin and the source material, and for that I’m eternally grateful. I’ve long since grown bored with comic book movies that have to point a mocking finger at the comic books. Of course they’re silly; all of this is silly, and yet Jenkins and Gadot are having a blast with it.

 

At its peak, WW84 reminds one of Richard Donner’s Superman movies, leavened with a bit of Indiana Jones, none of it too worried about how the film fits into a larger cinematic universe. As much as I’m a fan of the Zack Snyder DC Extended Universe – and as breathless as I am for Zack Snyder’s Justice League (now rumored for March 2021) – there is something delightfully un-corporate about WW84, by which I mean the film is largely unconcerned with setting up sequels or homaging past films. It’s very much its own thing, content merely to deliver up the continuing adventures of Diana Prince. In fact, the film buckles a bit when it gestures toward Snyder’s “Wonder Woman walked away” metanarrative, as when Diana takes care to dismantle security cameras. It’s a quick perfunctory note, and one senses that Jenkins dispenses with it as quickly as she can at the top of the film because she has her own things to say about Diana.

 

Of course, none of WW84 would work if Gal Gadot weren’t an inspired vision as Wonder Woman. She plays the character with such sincerity that you believe she stepped out of a comic book and onto the silver screen. She continues the bravura work she began in Batman v Superman with the full emotional range we saw in Wonder Woman; Diana Prince can believably swing from dread and resolve into elation over the existence of ice cream. Pedro Pascal, who’s done so much with only his voice over on The Mandalorian, makes a veritable three-course meal out of the scenery as a surprisingly topical Max Lord, while Kristen Wiig’s Barbara Minerva is the sort of antagonist you’d love to see recur in the franchise.

 

I’ve seen a lot of reviews talk about WW84 as exactly the kind of movie we need to clear the cobwebs from this wretched year. I don’t know that I’d take it quite that far – it’s not a perfect movie, but it is a breezy confident romp that does justice to its inspirational main character while not shortchanging an audience who’s coming for thrills and good cheer. For moviegoers who demanded that Zack Snyder’s DC universe lighten up, be careful what you wish for – bright colors and super-camp and parachute pants abound. For me, it’s almost as if Wonder Woman stepped into Zack Snyder’s Watchmen with a smile, and it’s hard to imagine a movie that could be more up my alley than that one.

 

Wonder Woman 1984 is rated PG-13 for “sequences of action and violence.” Directed by Patty Jenkins. Written by Patty Jenkins, Geoff Johns, and Dave Callaham. Based on the DC Comics. Starring Gal Gadot, Chris Pine, Kristen Wiig, Pedro Pascal, Robin Wright, Connie Nielsen, and Lilly Aspell.

Ghostbusters (2016)

Set the “controversy” aside, and take the movie on its own terms. Ghostbusters is plenty of fun and a pretty strong example of how to remake a movie with sufficient reverence balanced by satisfactory innovation.

Years ago, Erin Gilbert (Kristen Wiig) and Abby Yates (Melissa McCarthy) coauthored a book on the paranormal, but Erin has tried to distance herself with a legitimate career in academia. A haunted house in New York, however, brings the two back together, with Abby’s new partner Jillian Holtzmann (Kate McKinnon) and streetwise MTA employee Patty Tolan (Leslie Jones) rounding out the pack of paranormal investigators dubbed “Ghostbusters,” who become the last line of defense when New York is riddled with ghosts.

I was among the skeptics when a Ghostbusters remake was announced – having nothing to do with the gender switch, but based entirely on the fact that the original Ghostbusters movie is alchemically good, difficult to duplicate like lightning in a bottle. And remakes almost never live up to the original, let alone surpass it (aside from The Maltese Falcon and The Departed, that is). So I was a little trepidatious while in line for my ticket, but the trailers had looked funny enough, and I hadn’t been to the movie theater in nearly two months.

I’ll say that I went into this film expecting it to be something less than Personal Canon material, and I’ve found that the lower I temper my expectations the more I tend to enjoy a film. But I think Ghostbusters is genuinely entertaining even without the expectation threshold. It’s not, however, a classic like the first Ghostbusters – at least, not yet, perhaps – but it’s quite far from disgracing the legacy of the original. No, it’s a case study in how to do a remake right; it nods toward the original (including fun cameos from nearly all of the original cast, save Rick Moranis), moves in its own direction, and doesn’t forget to have fun along the way. What it’s not, and I think some of us were expecting it, is a legacy film, in which the ladies accept the mantle from the original team. As great as it would have been to see Dr. Venkman back on screen, it’s a smarter play to let the film run in its own direction.

Melissa McCarthy continues to be the queen of physical comedy, bounding about the screen while attached to a misfiring Ghostbusters backpack; she’s equally at home with quick delivery, like the moment she realizes that her proposed slogan for the Ghostbusters already belongs to another group. Kristen Wiig is perfect at playing it straight, hamming it up in overdrawn romantic gestures toward her new secretary (Chris Hemsworth, in a fun comedic turn), but it’s Kate McKinnon who steals the show as ostensibly this film’s Egon Spengler, the socially awkward genius. It’s the only role loosely borrowed from the original, but McKinnon does crazy eyes and lingering silences better than anyone. For Jones, the film never quite develops her “New York expert” character trait, but she gets to have just as much fun as the others and even ties in with one of the most fun cameos of the film.

Your childhood is safe. It’s only a movie. (It’s only a movie, the horror trailers would have us repeat.) It’s a very fun movie, the second coming of Slimer but far from the greatest film of the summer. It’s diverting and entertaining – and good heavens, is it loud! – but for an afternoon off, it’s good spectacle and hopefully the start of a new franchise where the fun keeps rolling even beyond the credits (after which, you’ve got to stay).

Ghostbusters is rated PG-13 for “supernatural action and some crude humor.” There are ghosts in here, and some of them barf green slime.

Monday at the Movies - June 30, 2014

Welcome to another edition of “Monday at the Movies.” This week, we tackle two truly despicable movies.

Despicable Me (2010) – Hardcore Disney snobs like myself often miss out on good animated films from other studios simply as a matter of personal prejudice, and Despicable Me is certainly among those nearly-missed opportunities.  I say “good” and not “great” not because Despicable Me is a disappointment – it isn’t – but it never fully accesses the transcendent quality of, say, an Up or a Toy Story 3.  Instead of striving for exceptionalism, Despicable Me is quite satisfied with telling a rather familiar story; here, sinister supervillain Gru (Steve Carell) finds his heart warming when he involves three adorable orphans in his scheme to steal a shrink ray and, by extension, the moon.  It is a story, as Beauty and the Beast would have it, as old as time, but the filmmakers work to tell a solid rendition of that story.  What they bring to the table – and what I say is ultimately the film’s greatest success – is a cuteness factor that goes up to eleven.  It’s funny that Gru is somewhat sidelined (at least, for this reviewer) in his own movie; I, and I suspect other audience members as well, was more captivated by the pygmy-like yellow jabbering Minions and their setpiece antics.  The scene-stealer, though, is the youngest of the orphans, Agnes (Elsie Fisher), who has a way with both youthful naïveté (mistaking a Cheeto for a caterpillar) and boisterous overexaggeration (“It’s so fluffy, I’m gonna die!”).  Perhaps the reason these two contingents steal center stage is because the main antagonist, voiced by Jason Segel, is neither interesting nor tolerable; consequently, we want to see Gru succeed not on his merits, but rather so we can be shut of Vector and his irksome antics.  Fortunately, the film compensates with an “aww”-inspiring supporting cast.

Despicable Me 2 (2013) – As much as I liked the first film for what it was, I enjoyed the sequel even more because it rectifies the first film’s major sin and continues to spotlight Agnes and the Minions.  Carell is back as Gru, this time contracted by the Anti-Villain League to find a villain who’s stolen a MacGuffin; Gru is partnered with an affable newbie, Lucy Wilde (Kristen Wiig), while beginning to suspect Mexican restaurateur Eduardo Perez (Benjamin Bratt) of being the former villain El Macho.  By giving Gru a more compelling plotline and a more engaging cast of immediately supporting characters, the film gives Carell more interesting material, which subsequently sharpens his game.  Despicable Me 2, still directed by Pierre Coffin and Chris Renaud, is acutely aware of what worked in the first film – namely, Agnes and the Minions – and pulls off a remarkably difficult feat:  it’s a sequel with restraint.  Rather than pelt us with overdoses of essentially the same jokes, Coffin & Renaud amplify without deafening.  There are more Minions, yes, but they’re still funny because of the non sequitur nature of their nattering and flair for costuming (personal favorite: “French Maid Minion”).  Ditto for Agnes, who’s still soul-crushingly cute, but now for different reasons than before.  All told, Despicable Me 2 feels more organic, less storytelling-by-numbers than its predecessor, which makes me optimistic about the two forthcoming entries in the franchise.  These aren’t genre-bending films, nor are they tremendously innovative, but don’t mistake their unsophistication for drivel.  Despicable Me 2 is plenty of fun, with a strong additive of cuteness – a solid middle-of-the-road animated film without lofty ambitions but with instead a keen earnestness.

That does it for this week’s edition of “Monday at the Movies.” We’ll see you here next week for the Double-Oh-Seventh of the month!

Monday at the Movies - February 27, 2012

Welcome to Week Nine of “Monday at the Movies.” Last night was Oscar night, and I realized I only saw one out of the nine nominated Best Picture films, but there seemed to be a few other films that cropped up in the acting categories. I’ve already reviewed The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Rango, and Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, so here are two more Oscar-nominated films from the past year.

Bridesmaids (2011) – Touted as “The Hangover for ladies,” Bridesmaids is something more than that because, rather than repeat a line of gags (as funny as those are in The Hangover), the film goes for an actual story anchored by a series of absurdly escalating vignettes around wedding planning. Because it was billed as “for ladies,” I was surprised by how much bathroom humor was present (saying something, I think, about gender politics in 2011) – not that I don’t find that kind of humor extremely funny, as when bad Brazilian food induces Maya Rudolph to defecate in the middle of the street (beneath the folds of a wedding dress, for those who have delicate constitutions). Melissa McCarthy snagged a Best Supporting Actress nomination for her outgoing and outrageous performance as raunchy bridesmaid Megan, although I’m not sure that anyone expected the nomination; it’s certainly strong acting, but nothing about it screamed “Oscar!” for me. In part, that’s because the ensemble cast in the movie is also strong – Jon Hamm as a sleazy beau, Rose Byrne as the one-upping aspirant to the “maid of honor” title, and the sweet and clean-cut Ellie Kemper who doesn’t quite get enough screen time. It’s ultimately not as rewatchable as The Hangover, but it’s not two hours that I regret spending in the first place.

Hugo (2011) – I’ve made no bones about the fact that I’m a huge Martin Scorsese fan, and the promise of his first 3-D movie was enough for me to give the entire visual gimmick a second try. Here’s another case of a film being billed as something it isn’t – I was told this was Scorsese’s “children’s film” made for all-ages as distinct from his other, more violent work. But the film is actually Scorsese’s love song to the work of early cinema pioneers like Georges Méliès, whose Voyage to the Moon plays a pivotal role in the film. Young orphan Hugo (Asa Butterfield) lives in a train station with his late father’s few belongings, including a mysterious key-operated automaton. The key comes into his life around the neck of Isabelle (Chloe “Hit Girl” Moretz), leading Hugo into a brave new world populated by cinematic dreams and hope for a magical future. I don’t want to spoil many of the little delightful surprises tucked into this deceptively complex film, but beyond the remarkable ensemble cast (including Sacha Baron Cohen as the sneaky station security, Michael Stuhlbarg as film historian René Tabard, and Sir Ben Kingsley as a train station toymaker) there’s a particularly strong soundtrack offered by Howard Shore, catchy and whimsical without losing sight (or sound?) of the powerful emotions the film elicits. As a meta-reflection on the magic of the movies, Hugo doesn’t disappoint and will leave audiences wistfully and blissfully satisfied.

That does it for this week’s edition of “Monday at the Movies.” We’ll see you here next week!