REVIEW: Hell and Back

It always fascinates me to see animated adult comedies that actually make it to theaters. Aside from the works of Trey Parker and Matt Stone, I'd be hard pressed to name a single theatrical release that not only made money, but provided an enjoyable experience. Comedies are usually profitable thanks to recognizable names and low budgets; when the medium is suddenly changed to animation (and especially stop-motion animation), the budget gets ratcheted way up and the cast is required to sell tickets on name and voice recognition alone. Again, apart from movies like South Park: Bigger, Longer, & Uncut and Team America: World Police, it's a genre with few winners. Keeping that trend of almost-consistent mediocrity alive is Hell and Back, a stop-motion animated romp starring Nick Swardson and T.J. Miller.

We begin our story at a crummy carnival-style amusement park run by Brian Posehn (who steps out of his comfort zone on this one to play an aging metalhead who likes to smoke pot); Remy (Swardson), Augie (Miller), and Curt (Rob Riggle) are three childhood pals who spend their time lamenting their crummy jobs running and repairing the rides, wishing for more out of life. After Curt begrudgingly takes a blood oath on an ancient satanic text in order to scam Remy out of a breath mint, he finds himself sucked into the firey hereafter. Remy and Augie give chase, literally delving into the bowels of Hell itself in order to save their friend.

The plot is literally every tired, worn-out "bros on an adventure" cliché in the book. There's three friends; the jerk who's comfortable in his mediocrity, the fat dork who's never been near a woman, and the bland one who talks about maybe wanting to make something of himself one day. They end up going somewhere weird where they meet a lot of colorful characters, including a sexy lady (Mila Kunis) who, shocker, ends up with the fat virgin for some reason. The jerk briefly abandons everyone around the end of the second act, they all reconcile, and everything works out nicely in an ending where everyone simultaneously gets what they want. It's trite and tired and has been done before and done better. Despite the strong comedic talent in the cast (including a slew of cameos from the likes of Dana Snyder, Kumail Nanjiani, Greg Proops, and more), this is no Superbad.

Then again, the plot in a comedy is really like the cherry on top of an ice cream sundae; if it's there, great, but it's not what people are here for. The most important part of any comedy is that it's funny; unfortunately, I found Hell and Back to be the very definition of the phrase "a mixed bag". Anything involving our primary cast amounts to little more than tired frat boy humor, the kind of jokes you see on Comedy Central during the daytime. Yes, scatological humor is the name of the game when it comes to our main protagonists; aside from a delightfully over-the-top monologue from Swardson about what it means to be a bro, I can't remember a single line from any of our protagonists that made me even crack a smile. Early on, Riggle's character suggests they try to solicit oral sex from the bearded lady at the carnival they work at, only for Miller to reply "I'll go get the chloroform!"

Not to toot my own horn, but it takes a lot to make my skin crawl, especially when I don't get the joke. Hell and Back, however, managed to find a way.

That said, salvation came, ironically enough, at the hands of the Devil himself, voiced here by Bob Odenkirk. This character was easily the highlight of the film; portraying Satan as a beleaguered bossman of the underworld (who isn't really quite as bad as the Bible makes him out to be) is hardly an original concept, but Odenkirk is by far the member of the cast trying his hardest here, and it shows. Each one of his scenes felt like a breath of fresh air after dealing with our unlikeable protagonists; even if it wasn't anything laugh-out-loud funny, it would at least be tolerable. Aside from the Devil, there were also a number of comedians making single-scene cameos as his demonic henchmen; simple as it was, there's a recurring gag here involving a demon (voiced by John Farley) constantly subjecting lost souls to his various "punishments" (such as a Taco Bell/Pizza Hut that has run out of pizza) that consistently tickled my funny bone. Had every character been written as strongly as Odenkirk's Devil, my opinion of this movie would definitely be a lot more positive.

To be totally honest, Hell and Back isn't even that bad. There's a few moments here and there that got me, and I really have to admire the animation and art design. While it's not the smoothest stop-motion I've ever seen (this is much more Rankin-Bass than it is Laika), it's still a challenging medium to work in. Animators and artists clearly worked hard building and designing everything that appears on screen, which is why it's a shame that the movie underneath it is just so wholly crummy. While some of the cast provides legitimately funny moments, there's still an entire sequence where Danny McBride sings about being raped by a tree (voiced by H. Jon Benjamin, who naturally does the good work we've come to expect from him). At the end of it all, it's not good enough to watch legitimately and it's not bad enough to watch ironically. It's that middling, bland kind of mediocre that doesn't even warrant a watch. If you've got nothing better to do, I suppose you could definitely do worse, but it's also an objective fact that you could do better.

REVIEW: Batman V Superman- Dawn of Justice

2016 is looking to be the year of the superhero squabble; on the Marvel front, we've got Daredevil fighting The Punisher and Captain America fighting Iron Man. Of course, we also have DC's Caped Crusader facing off against the Man of Steel in Zack Snyder's Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice. 2013's Man of Steel was a flawed film; heavy on style and destruction, yet lacking that feel-good, inspiring kind of substance that makes Superman into the iconic character known throughout the world as a symbol of truth, justice, and the American way. For all its problems, it was not an irredeemable film by any means. We all knew it was to serve as a launching point for DC's own Cinematic Universe as they desperately tried to play catch-up with Marvel; with some luck, Man of Steel would be remembered as the black sheep of the franchise. An off-color, rocky start for an on-screen universe that would bring the iconic heroes of Detective Comics to the big screen in ways we've never seen before. Unfortunately, having seen Batman V Superman, I find myself having the same "better luck next time" kind of reaction I did when I finished watching Man of Steel three years ago.

The opening sequence is arguably the strongest part of the entire movie. In a few mere minutes, it manages to introduce us to the character of Bruce Wayne (Ben Affleck) and completely establish his origins and motivations. It knows we've seen Batman's origin a million times before and wastes no time getting it out of the way before diving right in to the overindulgent climax from Man of Steel, this time shown from Bruce Wayne's perspective. Blaming Superman (Henry Cavill) for the casualties and destruction he witnessed firsthand, Bruce Wayne steadily becomes more and more obsessed with finding a way to counter the potentially destructive force that Metropolis' Man of Tomorrow represents. Meanwhile, Clark Kent hopes to use the power of the press to shed some light on the Batman of Gotham, who has become increasingly brutal on criminals in recent years. Greasing the wheels of the conflict is billionaire CEO and mad scientist, Lex Luthor (Jesse Eisenberg), hoping to pit the two caped heroes against one another to further his own vaguely-defined goals.

One of my biggest problems with Man of Steel was that it seemed to miss the point of Superman. Sure, Jor-El's speeches were inspiring and the "first flight" sequence was the highlight of the film, but overall it was a much more dour take on the character than was necessary. Superman is meant to represent all that is good in the human spirit; a humble-yet-confident everyman who uses his immense power to do the right thing simply because it's the right thing to do. The problem with Zack Snyder's take on the character is that he's less of a protagonist and more of a plot device; less of a relatable Kansas farmboy and more of a beleaguered alien messiah. One of my hopes for Batman V Superman was for the movie to give me a reason to feel good about Superman again. Something that makes my spirit swell the way the classic John Williams score or an excerpt from All-Star Superman might. There's a scene very early on in the film in which Lois Lane (Amy Adams) is captured by a terrorist cell in the middle east. When things start to go south, a militant cocks his gun and aims it at the head of Lois' traveling companion; as a Superman fan, I began grinning, since surely I knew what was about to happen. The music would swell and Superman would swoop out of the sky, rescuing this man from certain doom. Imagine my surprise when the trigger was pulled and this character (whom the director later confirmed to be Superman's pal, Jimmy Olsen) takes a bullet point-blank to the face, dying instantly.

It's fine to have a darker, more serious take on a comic book figure; I'm honestly glad that DC is exploring a tone different from that of Marvel's lighthearted blockbusters. However, Superman is a property that should most definitely never be described as "bleak", "joyless", or "heavy-handed". The character is meant to be a beacon of hope, so as to contrast with the dour, pessimistic Batman. The film portrays Superman's do-gooding almost as a burden, something he feels obligated to do for all of us puny humans so that we'll continue to tolerate his presence on our world. When he rescues a small girl from a fire or saves a space capsule from an explosion on the launch pad, there's no joy or warmth to be found in his good work. Unless he's saving his mother or Lois Lane, Henry Cavill looks like he'd honestly rather be doing anything else with his time, and that is an objectively wrong way to portray Superman. It's a cold, artificial performance totally unbecoming of the character. This movie commits the mortal sin of portraying Superman in a way that focuses almost entirely on the fact that his biology is alien, rather than how his heart is wholly human. The fact that I actually thought "oh boy, he's gonna do a Superman thing" when he saved someone who wasn't Lois Lane during the climax should tell you all you need to know about this interpretation.

Thankfully, the overly dreary tone here works to the full advantage of Batman, who honestly feels like the real main character of the film. While it's not without its flaws, I feel safe in saying that this is the best live-action interpretation of Batman and Alfred (Jeremy Irons) I've ever seen. There's appropriate amounts of detective work, brooding, banter, and acrobatic fisticuffs that are a legitimate joy to watch in action. As excellent as I found Affleck's portrayal to be, however, this does break one of the golden rules when it comes to Batman; he does kill people. That's not to say that Batman has never dabbled in a bit of murder from time to time; from his first appearance over 75 years ago, to the 1989 Tim Burton adaptation, to the classic The Dark Knight Returns (a graphic novel that clearly and directly inspired large parts of this film), the Dark Knight has taken his fair share of lives. However, going by the most widely-accepted version of the character, the Batman does not go out of his way to kill anyone. There are a few deaths in this film that are indirect and therefore excusable (for example, a henchman who falls victim to his own hand grenade), but the sheer amount of wanton carnage in the over-the-top (and altogether pointless) Batmobile sequence crosses the line for me. There's a number of ways that Batman can incapacitate his foes without resorting to flat-out murdering them with machine guns and missiles. Usually when Batman kills someone, it's treated with a certain degree of gravity; aside from one specific (and legitimately strong) moment, the film never lingers on how many people Batman directly murders in cold blood. However, writing that into this movie would probably require some degree of clever thought, a department in which the film is somewhat lacking.

Filling the role of our main antagonist, we have Alexander "Lex" Luthor Jr, played curiously enough by Jesse Eisenberg. A surprising casting decision that is sure to be divisive amongst moviegoers and fans. I personally found myself torn; I quite enjoyed this interpretation of Lex Luthor as something of an eccentric trust fund baby in the beginning. Whenever he was on screen, Eisenberg seemed to radiate the feeling that he felt he was smarter than everyone else in the room, a trait that is 100% Lex Luthor. However, it's important for a villain such as this to be able to back that claim up with actual intelligence and trickery, and this is where the character falls flat. This is a Lex Luthor with little motivation and absolutely no end-game for his fiendish plan. When one thinks of Lex Luthor, the greatest criminal mind of our time, one thinks of Machiavellian schemes that end with Superman being completely unable to take any meaningful action. Even if the day is saved, Lex still wins. Here, Lex's plan involves manipulating Superman and Batman into fighting one another. We can understand that he'd be fine with seeing Superman either proven to be an imperfect menace or dying at the hands of the Bat, but his plan raises a great many other questions about his motivations. Why exactly does he hate Superman? Is it mere jealousy, or something more? What is his beef with Batman in the first place? How'd he manage to deduce both Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne's secret identities, and why doesn't he use this information in any long-lasting, meaningful way? Why did he bother creating Doomsday at all? His motivation is more akin to that of the Joker or Riddler than Lex Luthor; all he does is cause chaos in an attempt to prove his mental superiority. Out of the three-way conflict of Superman, Luthor, and Batman, only the latter is given an appropriate amount of development and motivation; this might not have been a problem, had more of the two and a half hour runtime been spent developing our primary characters rather than advertising future Justice League movies.

It's no secret by now that there are a number of cameos, all from future Justice Leaguers; the Flash (Ezra Miller), Aquaman (Jason Momoa), and Cyborg (Ray Fisher) all make brief appearances to remind audiences that they exist and the DC Cinematic Universe is definitely something just as big and successful as what Marvel is doing. While the cameos were largely inoffensive (though I do think the camera lingered on Momoa for far too long, and this is coming from someone who's looking forward to James Wan's Aquaman moreso than everything else DC has in the pipeline), their place in the plot sticks out like a sore thumb. It's a scene that would have worked much better as a brief post-credits teaser than an intrusive coming attraction in the middle of the climax.

There's also the matter of Bruce Wayne's frequent dream sequences. While the majority of them act to the film's advantage, offering a bit of that visual flair that Snyder has such a knack for while also delving a bit into the mind of the Bat, one in particular is nothing more than a clear and obvious teaser for the coming Justice League film. Normally I wouldn't care too much, as it was a fairly exciting and well-shot sequence. However, the implications it raises are just too baffling to ignore (fair warning, I am going to get into mild spoiler territory for this paragraph alone). The dream ends with a warning from what appears to be a time-traveling Flash, telling Bruce Wayne that, in order to prevent the horrible future he's witnessed, he needs to track down all the members of the Justice League and assemble them before it's too late. However, this warning comes inside of the dream, before Bruce wakes up. I know that the Speed Force is essentially magic and thus does whatever the hell the writer needs it to do, but is the implication here that the Flash traveled into Bruce Wayne's dream (before Bruce Wayne ever met Barry Allen) in order to show him a vision of the future? Why not have the Flash appear out of the time stream in real life, considering time travel is one of his powers? Why not have Wonder Woman (Gal Gadot), a character based around myth and magic, be the one to receive prophecies of doom and set out to unite the Justice League? I'm nitpicking here, sure, but this just seemed like the most roundabout and confusing attempt at foreshadowing I think I've ever seen.

By and large, the cast does a fair job. For as alien as Henry Cavill's performance is, the fact that he actually does feel like Superman the few times he does appropriately Supermanny things makes me think that the issues brought up by his performance are due more to poor direction and a weak script rather than flat-out bad acting. Ben Affleck and Jeremy Irons are by far the highlights here; their scenes flow wonderfully thanks to their mutual passion and natural chemistry. This is the Alfred and Master Wayne we all know and love, done just right. Gal Gadot is serviceable as Princess Diana of Themyscira, though she hardly has enough screentime for me to truly pass judgement (I suppose that will have to wait until next year's Wonder Woman movie). Unfortunately, Amy Adams, while a truly enjoyable actress elsewhere, is just a terrible Lois Lane and arguably the worst thing about this. Her character serves to do absolutely nothing than play Anne Darrow to Superman's King Kong, being in the right place at the right time to help further the plot. She sucks up far too much screentime with a dull-as-dishwater subplot involving someone selling munitions to terrorists (I'll give you exactly one guess as to who it is) and gets across exactly none of the charisma or spunk that the character is known for.

With everything I've had to say about this film, the cruelest irony is that I didn't even hate it. It's the most solid five out of ten I think I've ever seen. The action is sparse and overindulgent, yet it's still cool to see Batman, Wonder Woman, and Superman teaming up to fight evil on the big screen. There's a lot of decent moments, but the pace is a disjointed hatchet job that flows like poorly-mixed concrete. The music (care of Hans Zimmer and Junkie XL) is really quite excellent, but we don't end up really caring about any of the characters that these pulse-pounding themes are meant to represent.

Honestly, I feel as though all of this film's problems can be attributed directly to Zack Snyder and executive meddling. The studio is all too eager to catch up with Marvel, even if that means bogging their product down with enough cameos and teasers to sate an entire phase of Marvel films. Meanwhile, Snyder clearly doesn't know or care enough about the source material to deliver a satisfying adaptation. While it's not fair to judge a film strictly on the grounds of being different from its source material, any adaptation does hold a certain degree of responsibility to accurately represent that which it is adapted from; it's fine to divert from the origins of a property (Christopher Nolan proved with his Dark Knight trilogy that such an approach can work out okay), but Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice just feels sloppy. It's time for Warner Brothers to ditch Snyder and bring in an actual auteur; a Guillermo Del Toro or a George Miller. Someone who can do these iconic characters justice while still delivering a well-made and satisfying film underneath it all. 

As it stands, DC's had strike one with Man of Steel and now a foul tip with Batman V Superman; they've made contact with the ball this time, but they still haven't made it to any bases. They need to hit a home run real soon, or they're out. There's elements of this series so far that are promising; elements which give me hope for projects like Ben Affleck's standalone Batman movie and James Wan's Aquaman. Hopefully, this franchise will find its way into the proper creative hands soon, so the potential that remains doesn't go to waste.

REVIEW: Dope

It can be a challenge to stay up-to-date on all the latest releases while attending college in a town that doesn't have a local movie theater. While the sheer serendipity of my schedule allowed me to partake of such 2015 releases as Mad Max: Fury Road, Krampus, and Jem and the Holograms, it also caused me to miss out on such films as Spotlight, Trumbo, and Dope. Considering the latter was recently added to Netflix and I've heard nothing but positive things, I saw no excuse not to give it a watch. 103 minutes later and I'm honestly a little disappointed I missed this one during its theatrical run. Not so much because this is a picture that demands it be experienced on the big screen, but rather that Dope is a full-price ticket I would have felt damn good about paying for.

The plot focuses on a trio of geeks living in a crime-ridden neighborhood in California. Malcolm (Shameik Moore), Jib (Tony Revolori), and Diggy (Kiersey Clemons) play in a punk band and are all obsessed with 90's hip-hop culture; unfortunately for them, it's 2015. Looked down upon by society for their less-than-glamorous roots and looked down upon by their peers for attempting to rise above said roots, the three find themselves embroiled in the local drug trade after attending an ill-fated birthday party. What follows is a hilarious, yet compelling, coming-of-age story, as Malcolm attempts to remove himself from his precarious situation while still working towards attending his dream school of Harvard.

This is a plot that is carried by curveballs; whenever a situation appears to be drawing to a close, some new element is introduced that completely turns everything on its head. This is a story about the wallflowers; the unassuming dorks who never really did anything to anybody, aside from be a bit different. It's a movie that takes these types of relatable highschool archetypes and dumps them into the most progressively absurd situation possible. Whenever our protagonists express their bafflement at the way things have escalated, we're right there with them. There's a lot that this movie gets right, and paramount among those features is its relatable characterization.

That said, characters can only carry a story so far. Thankfully, the tone and setting of this tale go hand-in-hand. As intelligent and funny as the writing is, the story beats of the plot are played completely seriously; going to the police is not an option for a number of legitimate reasons and situations become a great deal more tense the second a firearm is revealed. It paints a stark portrait of a troubled environment that affects everyone within it; despite Malcolm's initial cockiness that good grades and gumption will get him out of the hood and into Harvard, he eventually learns that the cycle of life which permeates his neighborhood can be a tough one to break free of. It is, as is mentioned frequently throughout the film, "a slippery slope."

Special praise must be given to the main three cast members; while I of course enjoyed Blake Anderson showing up as a perpetually-stoned hacker, the fact that the primary trio were all played by relative unknowns helps completely immerse the viewer. Each disappears entirely into their role, ordinary kids wrapped up in an unorthodox mess. These three could be anyone living in any neighborhood; the film serves as a funny-yet-serious reminder that, while greatness can emerge from even the lowliest place, such lowly places can taint and suppress greatness. This is a coming-of-age comedy with a lot to say. There's endless mileage to be found in a story that includes teenagers, narcotics, and humor, but the fact that this film actually has a brain to match the size of its heart puts it a cut above the rest.

Dope is, overall, a hilarious, insightful, engaging, and all-around charming little movie. With a gang of feel-good, relatable protagonists, a thought-provoking message, and a superb soundtrack, this is a comedy that you can really sink your teeth into. It's the kind of movie that blurs the line between the usual black and white morality found within society, challenging our preconceived notions of what makes a smart, successful person, all while reaffirming that which we know in our heart of hearts to be good. It's an excellent time and I highly recommend it; if I can reach for the low-hanging fruit, I'd say it's pretty dope.

REVIEW: 10 Cloverfield Lane

Well this certainly came right out of nowhere, didn't it? Eight years after the original Cloverfield sent moviegoers into bouts of motion sickness, we finally get a sequel, released a whopping two months after it was announced to the public. 10 Cloverfield Lane is certainly one of 2016's most intriguing films, filmed in total secret with a budget nearly half that of the original before being promptly dropped into cinemas worldwide. I'm willing to watch anything that has John Goodman in it, but the concept of a totally reserved, low-key follow-up to a bombastic monster flick caught my interest from the get-go. So how does 10 Cloverfield Lane measure up? Honestly, it depends entirely on what you're looking for, but I left quite happy, if not entirely satisfied.

Mary Elizabeth Winstead plays Michelle, a young woman who wakes up in a fallout bunker following a nasty car accident. The bunker's owner, Howard (John Goodman) explains that some sort of attack has taken place; the outside world is potentially crawling with radiation or toxic fumes or Russians, forcing Michelle and Emmett (John Gallagher Jr), another survivor who found himself inside Howard's shelter, to stay locked underground with their mysterious host for the foreseeable future.

The first thing I'd like to address right away is what I find to be the film's only real major flaw; it barely has any connection whatsoever to the original Cloverfield. Not to spoil a widely-known blockbuster that's been out for nearly a decade, but the original film ended on a mysterious note; despite the military more or less leveling Manhattan, it's implied that the camera-shy creature is still alive. The film explored interesting possibilities in terms of giant monsters emerging from the depths of the sea to lay waste to iconic cities. For instance, the chittering, dog-sized parasites that fall from the creature's hide and start chewing apart the fleeing populace of New York City. When one thinks of a Cloverfield sequel taking place in a bunker, details like that immediately spring to mind; are the parasites spreading across the country? Is the creature still alive and rampaging? Have more of its kind emerged from the sea? Has it brought with it some form of radioactive fallout or virus that infects the air? Without explicitly spoiling anything, I'm confident in saying that 10 Cloverfield Lane had absolutely nothing to do with Cloverfield until it was determined that the two films should inhabit the same universe. This movie could have released as is with absolutely no changes in plot under a different title and no one would have batted an eye.

This detail is the only part of this film that feels the slightest bit cheap or shallow. It feels as though the Cloverfield name was slapped on purely for marquee value, and the film would have honestly been stronger without it. As it is, it contributes nothing new to the "Cloververse" aside from a host of new questions that will likely never be answered. Which isn't to say that films should be completely cut and dry, feeding the audience information at face-value until the credits roll. The overall feeling of suspense and mystery is this movie's strongest suit (and the same can be said of its predecessor), but there's definitely a difference between genuine, subtle mystery and leaving a number of spaces blank so the audience is left under the impression that the movie is more intelligent than it appears. It's the same issue that arises with films such as Prometheus; however, unlike Prometheus, these problems are more a product of the franchise this film has found itself attached to, rather than poor writing in the film itself.

As its own self-contained film, 10 Cloverfield Lane toes the line of brilliance. The vast majority of the story takes place in the bunker, a space no larger than your standard sitcom apartment set. Thanks to excellent set design and camera work, we never find ourselves suffering from "environment fatigue"; the entire thing remains tense as piano wire despite there being practically no change in environment for most of the 103 minute runtime. This tension is thanks to stellar performances from Winstead and Gallagher, who both offer different, yet convincing, reactions to the whole situation. The star of the show, however, is John Goodman. I've been a fan of Goodman's work all my life and this is easily one of his strongest performances yet. The best thing about his character is that, for as erratic and volatile as he seems, his actions honestly make fairly decent sense in-context for the most part. He's a twitchy, unpredictable doomsday-prepper who is put in the position of being objectively right when the time actually comes to use his bunker for its intended purpose. Even though I love just about everything John Goodman has ever done, I say with no hyperbole that his portrayal of Howard deserves an Academy Award. He's so good that I'm sure he won't win anything, as it would make too much sense.

10 Cloverfield Lane is an interesting little film. Depending on what you go in looking for, you'll either walk out totally satisfied, wholly disappointed, or some strange, simultaneous combination of both (like myself). Those looking for a sequel that will expand upon the groundwork laid by the original Cloverfield will find nothing of the sort here, at least nothing concrete; this is very much a sequel in name only. However, if you view this as its own, isolated story that (for the time being at least) is entirely removed from that giant creature that decapitated Lady Liberty back in 2008, you're sure to find one of the finest little thrill rides I've ever had the pleasure of seeing. The performances are electrifying, the suspense is genuine, and it generates enough mystique to keep you engaged and interested until the second it ends. If you can manage to suppress and control any Cloverfield-related expectations, I highly recommend taking a trip down to 10 Cloverfield Lane.

REVIEW: Bronson

I'm gonna be honest, I haven't seen Tom Hardy in a number of things I've liked. Neither Inception nor The Dark Knight Rises exactly thrilled me, even though I felt he was one of the stronger aspects of the latter (silly voice aside). It wasn't until Mad Max: Fury Road that I realized he was definitely an actor to watch in every sense of the word, giving me the motivation to finally take a look at 2008's Bronson.

Hardy stars in the titular role as Michael Gordon "Charlie Bronson" Peterson, one of the UK's most dangerous inmates. Charlie tells his story to an audience of well-dressed theatergoers as a sort of one-man show as we see various moments from his life, from his first incarceration, through his stint in an asylum, all through to the present day (where the real Charlie Bronson is currently still incarcerated, practicing outsider art). Those looking for a clearly-structured, biographical take on Charlie's life story will be disappointed, as the plot structure is far from the main event here.

This film is less a story and more a character study; we never get to see any kind of "origin" for the man who would end up serving life imprisonment in Her Majesty's Prison Service. There's no pivotal scene where an innocent little boy is disturbed into becoming a violent psychopath, no attempt to rationalize or explain Michael Peterson's behavior. To do so would rob the character of any mystique or interest. He's fascinating because he can't be explained. This is a man who views prison cells as luxury hotel rooms and takes pleasure in stripping naked to engage guards in bareknuckle fisticuffs; the second you try to explain that, Charlie Bronson just becomes another loony on screen. As is, it makes you wonder what kind of life could have produced a person like this, and therein lies the true value of this film.

Tom Hardy may as well be the only member of the cast. This is by no means an ensemble piece and, while there are a few minor characters who play into the plot, Charlie is always the main focus (which makes sense, really, considering this is his story after all). The man is pure electricity; you never quite know what he's going to do at any given moment. There's seemingly no method to his madness, and the fact that his performance was praised and approved by the actual Michael Peterson only makes it that much more enthralling. His is a character made up of mystery meat; there's enough raw substance there that you could potentially postulate for hours as to what caused him to end up the way he is, but at the end of it all, you get the impression you'd probably be wrong. 

Tom Hardy plays the part with a mad kind of precision; you can't tell what's going on, but it feels as if he certainly does. If it wasn't for his performance, there'd be no movie. This story hinges entirely on the lead actor's ability to portray this larger-than-life figure, and Hardy more than succeeds. He manages to make you feel disgusted, sad, frightened, and above all just plain curious throughout the entire thing. He isn't just another violent lunatic in a movie, committing acts that are meant to come off as objectively good or bad. There's a multifaceted nuance to the character that comes with him being directly inspired by a real person that makes it very hard to place any kind of concrete feelings in regards to his actions. There are times when he's sweet and pitiable, just as there are times when he's savage and despicable. It's a role that requires a talented actor to pull it off successfully, and Tom Hardy exceeds all expectations.

Bronson is a film that, while unorthodox and a tad lacking in narrative direction, manages to be supremely thought-provoking thanks to the extraordinarily strong performance of Tom Hardy (and the extraordinarily fascinating person on whom the film is based). While it's not exactly the kind of film I would put on to unwind at the end of the day, I feel as though it certainly accomplishes its job of paining a nuanced portrait of a man who defies explanation. It's a wild time that definitely shouldn't be missed.

REVIEW: Zootopia

When I go see an animated film from the folks at the iconic Disney Animation Studios, I usually expect something of general quality. In the case of Zootopia, I figured I'd be getting a well-made, well-animated little flick with lots of fun jokes delivered by adorably expressive talking animals. Having seen the film, I can safely say that my expectations were met; however, nothing could have prepared me for the hefty dose of clever, even-handed, and above all topical social commentary that lay within. Below all the impressive art design and Shakira cameos, this is a film with a lot to say, and it gets it all across with subtlety, finesse, and class.

Judy Hopps (Ginnifer Goodwin) is a rookie police officer, the first bunny to ever make it onto the force, trying to make a positive impact in the bustling metropolis of Zootopia. After a string of cases involving mysteriously missing mammals spring up throughout the city, Judy teams up with Nick Wilde (Jason Bateman), a con-artist fox, in order to get to the bottom of what's causing the disappearances. At first glance, this is a standard underdog story with a dash of crime mystery; the cute, fuzzy bunny must prove her worth as a cop by solving the crime with her comically mismatched accomplice. However, it's around the end of the second act when the real meat of the story begins to fully present itself.

In the world of Zootopia, there are two kinds of animals who make up society; predators and prey. As explained in the opening of the film, there was once a time long ago when predators would viciously hunt and kill the prey animals as a food source. As time progressed, so had society; predators and prey now live more or less in harmony. They wear clothes, hold jobs, and build civilizations. Both classes of creature are, for all intents and purposes, equal. However, due to the ingrained unpleasantness of the past, there still remains a constant underlying societal tension between the two. Judy (a rabbit) is initially distrustful of Nick (a fox) simply because of his species. When she first walks into her new precinct, she has to explain to a fellow officer who calls her "cute" that, while it's okay for rabbits to call other rabbits cute, it's offensive when a non-rabbit uses that word. If anyone isn't quite getting it yet, I'll come right out with it; at its core, Zootopia is a film about race relations.

It's somewhat masterful how subtly this film lays the threads of this theme within its own plot; all throughout the movie, the dynamic between predators and prey is evident and called upon, sometimes as nothing more than a joke. It's only later on in the film that it reveals itself as being at the very core of the plot; when a number of animals seemingly turn feral and begin attacking their fellow Zootopians, the one connecting factor between all of the assailants is that they all happen to be predators such as panthers, tigers, and even otters. As disturbances continue, a cycle of equating correlation with causation results in widespread discrimination throughout the animal community. All of this is done in the least ham-handed way possible, mostly because our characters and story are so wholly engaging. It doesn't feel like a film attempting to feed you a moral, but rather a film telling a good story that happens to have a moral seamlessly woven within it.

As much as I adore the maturity and skill with which this film handles its subject matter, I must say that I was slightly surprised at how laid-back its sense of humor was. Not to say it's unfunny (one extremely subtle reference to Frozen had me chortling for a good minute), but it's definitely less jam-packed with jokes than I would have expected; it's a mystery first and a comedy second, but the humor that's there is rock-solid. It manages to bank heavily on referential humor (it's 2016 and children still apparently love it when cartoons spoof The Godfather) and still work, since it never quite resorts to "x scene from a different movie, but with animal puns". I suppose "smart" is a good way to describe this movie. Smart humor, smart plot, smart subtext. Not exactly full of bombastic action or wall-to-wall laughs, but a rewarding experience nonetheless.

Though we're only barely over two months into 2016, I feel confident in saying that Zootopia may turn out to be one of the best films of the year. While it's not the most high-energy entry into the realm of animation Disney has ever produced, it's easily one of the most clever and one of the most mature (in the "rewarding compliment from a parent or teacher" sense, not in the "contains naughty words and violence" sense). Ginnifer Goodwin and Jason Bateman have wonderfully layered chemistry together as Judy and Nick, helping cement this as one of the few Disney films I would love to see get a sequel somewhere down the line. If you need anymore proof that Disney Animation is entering a second renaissance after films like Wreck-It Ralph and Tangled, Zootopia should certainly help convince you.

REVIEW: The Good Dinosaur

Despite the concept of a Pixar film about dinosaurs being a literal childhood dream come true, The Good Dinosaur ended up being one of the more low-profile releases of last year. Following the monumental success of Inside Out is hardly an easy position to be in, especially when it found itself sandwiched between the final installment of The Hunger Games and the yearly onslaught of holiday fodder. Wholly under-promoted following a troubled production, the film made lackluster numbers at the box office and disappeared quietly back into Inside Out's shadow. In my opinion, a fate undeserved; while The Good Dinosaur is hardly Pixar's strongest feature, I feel as though it is easily one of the studio's most visually impressive (and possibly most daring) films to date.

The setup is delivered within the opening moments of the film; what if the meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs... missed? Rather than face extinction, the terrible thunder-lizards continued to evolve and develop in a similar fashion to early man, forming farming communities and cultivating the land to suit their needs for survival. Our story focuses on Arlo (Raymond Ochoa), the cowardly runt of a family of apatosaurs who grow crops on their meager homestead. After an accident concerning a feral caveboy (Jack Bright) sends Arlo floating downriver, he's forced to join forces with the troublesome critter in order to survive. Dubbing the neanderthal "Spot", the two try to make their way home, all while facing that eternally merciless gauntlet which is Mother Nature.

Right off the bat, detractors will point out how this plot is similar to so many Pixar films which came before it. Toy Story, Toy Story 2, Finding Nemo, and even Inside Out, released the same year as The Good Dinosaur, all focus on an unlikely pair or group trying to find their way back to where they belong. It's reasonable to say that it's a formula for the folks at Pixar by this point, though I see no real issue with continuing the trend so long as they continue to make it work as consistently well as they're able to. "Road trip" is a fairly broad label to apply to such a number of films; there is a journey involved, yes, but the actual adventure takes a backseat to the emotions at play. This is a film about loss, forgiveness, acceptance, and overcoming one's fears. Above all, this is a film about a boy and his dog (even though the dog in this case is a human being).

Make no mistake; while The Good Dinosaur doesn't quite reach "Toy Story 3 incinerator scene" levels of dire, this is a strong contender for Pixar's heaviest film to date. Our adorable protagonists are constantly battered and bruised and death is a ever-present danger out in the wild. While nature itself is the primary antagonist at play here, there are still a number of unseemly characters introduced who have absolutely no qualms about attempting to murder and/or devour Arlo and Spot. While I enjoyed the backwoods charm of the cabal of cattle-rustling velociraptors, I must call particular attention to the band of fanatical pteranadons led by Steve Zahn, channeling a legitimately threatening mix between a cult leader and a serial killer.

I found the tone of the film to be heavily reminiscent of the works of Don Bluth; while there are moments of very well-executed comedy and whimsy, this is very much a film that takes itself seriously for the most part. Despite the cartoony design of the cast, the near-photorealistic environments give everything a heightened sense of grit. Arlo is soft and thoroughly huggable, but when he bruises himself after slamming into a rock, we are able to feel the impact. This is a world which has genuine weight to it in every sense of the word. I honestly cannot gush enough about what a feast for the eyes this movie is. We live in an age where CGI films are commonplace; it feels as though a computer-animated feature can't be considered impressive anymore unless it manages to think outside the box in regards to its aesthetic, such as with The LEGO Movie. This is a film that, instead of using the technology available in a new and interesting way, simply generates some of the most stunningly gorgeous visuals I've ever seen in a film of this kind. I'm not sure if I've ever let out an audible gasp in response to a shot of running water before, but The Good Dinosaur might just be the prime example from this point on.

As I mentioned, Steve Zahn is wonderfully intimidating as Thunderclap the pteradactyl, and I really enjoyed Raymond Ochoa as Arlo. It's a role that very easily could have been grating and irritating had the wrong voice been cast, so it's a good thing to note that our primary protagonist is endearing until the end. The highlights by far, however, had to be Jeffery Wright as Henry, Arlo's father, and Sam Elliot as Butch, a raspy tyrannosaurus patriarch who ranches longhorns. Both exude grizzled, distinctly paternal wisdom with every line, really helping to seal the country-fied tone the film has going for it. As dark as things get, this is a film rife with feel-good moments of growth and responsibility, like a southern coming-of-age novel that happens to star talking dinosaurs.

All in all, I find The Good Dinosaur to be one of Pixar's most underrated works of all time. Though the plot tends to meander and not all children may be endeared to its rough, emotionally-heavy tone, I found it to be a rewarding experience all the same. It has its flaws, but it also represents significant risks taken by a studio that could easily live comfortably off of lackluster Cars sequels until the heat-death of the universe. While it's not perfect, I feel as though the risks taken in terms of story and tone paid off, resulting in a powerful, heartfelt, and visually gorgeous film. It's hardly destined to be anyone's favorite Pixar movie, but I strongly believe that, despite all the production issues and meager box office earnings, The Good Dinosaur is most definitely a good film.