REVIEW: Moana

It's no secret by now that I'm a tremendous fan of Disney Animation, especially considering their recent output. Zootopia remains one of my favorite films to come out this year and, while it's definitely over-exposed, I'd be lying if I said Frozen wasn't a rock-solid musical. The house of mouse has been on a roll as of late, which is why I was so pumped up to see their latest film, Moana. A Disney animated musical inspired by Polynesian folklore, starring The Rock as a shape-shifting demigod; it's like this movie was made for me. And while I did certainly have my share of fun at Moana, I have to say that it left me feeling somewhat underwhelmed at first. Don't get me wrong, it's a good enough time, but I feel as though this is the first instance of the more recent, modern Disney formula actively making a film feel lesser than what it could have been.

The titular character, Moana (newcomer Auli'i Cravalho), is the daughter of the Chieftain of the Island of Motonui (Temuera Morrison). While she must learn to one day lead in her father's stead, her true passion lies with the ocean. Ever since she was a baby, she felt the call of exploration and adventure on the high seas, an interest that naturally causes a fair amount of friction between herself and her hydrophobic dad. After an ancient curse begins poisoning Motonui's natural resources, Moana sets out on her own across the waves to find Maui (Dwayne Johnson), a wayward demigod whose actions brought on the curse in the first place, in order to undo his mistakes and save her people. For all its mythology and set-dressing, this is honestly a pretty straightforward story; girl needs to deliver maguffin, has a crisis of self, gets over it, and accomplishes her goal. Simplicity isn't necessarily a bad thing, especially in a children's film, but considering this is the studio that released Zootopia, a film noir crime-mystery about casual racism, it's not exactly unreasonable to expect a few more surprises than what we get.

That's not to imply that the story is bad, of course; it's an entertaining adventure with a lot of really fun, beautifully animated moments and setpieces. It's straightforward, but that's not the film's key problem. For me, my issue came with the choice of protagonist. Auli'i Cravalho does an excellent job as Moana, especially considering this is her first ever film role and especially considering she provides the character's singing voice as well. She's a fifteen year old newcomer and manages to match the energy of Dwayne Johnson, a professional wrestler. That's no small feat. Despite how much I enjoyed her performance, I just felt that Moana wasn't that interesting a protagonist. Right from when the film begins, we see that she's basically just great at everything. She has a good rapport with her people and is shaping up to be a great Chief. Despite being self-taught, she's reasonably adept at sailing and is able to handle herself in a fight, both physically and intellectually. She makes exactly one mistake over the course of the film and it ends up having literally no consequences. Sure, she's forced to choose between her responsibilities and doing what she loves, but it turns out in the end that she's able to just choose both. Moana is a likeable, capable protagonist, but she doesn't have a real arc; in the end, it is everyone else who develops and changes, while she remains more or less the same. At the end of the day, I would have much preferred the movie to focus more on Maui, since he's infinitely more interesting.

Maui's entire motivation boils down to reclaiming his magic fish hook so that he can go back to being a hero of legend again. It allows him to perform all manner of supernatural feats of wonder, in addition to granting him the ability to shapeshift. Basically, the hook represents his ego; in Maui's eyes, he is worth exactly what he can do for others, and no more. His boastful, larger-than-life nature is a front, hiding his myriad insecurities and fear of abandonment and rejection; the only reason he agrees to accompany Moana on her journey is so that mortals will love him again. I'll try to stay light on spoilers, but there is a moment in this film where Maui is faced with the possibility of losing his fish hook. Rather than continue on and risk losing the only thing that, in his eyes, makes him Maui, he simply decides to give up and run away. As one would expect, he of course has a change of heart and returns to help during the climax; the problem is, we don't get to see this change of heart take place. He's out of the film until he comes back out of the blue. 

The film takes its most interesting character and turns him into a deus ex machina while instead choosing to focus on the protagonist who only began to feel insecure at that exact moment. Granted, the Song of the Ancestors sequence was utterly gorgeous and one of the highlights of the film; I am in no way saying it should have been cut or replaced with another Maui song. But I see no reason why we had to completely ignore one protagonist over another, considering they're both on the same journey for very similar reasons. A good comparison would be if Flynn Rider was absent from I See the Light, or if Anna disappeared entirely after Fixer-Upper, only to return when she saves Elsa from Hans. This may seem like a nitpick, but the absence of this kind of character development and growth only serves to make Moana feel somewhat dumbed-down when compared to every other recent film from Disney Animation.

I also felt as though it relied just a bit too heavily on the new Disney formula. Since the studio has had its resurgence, it seems to have become almost too comfortable in its ability to produce hits; these films are all made around the same time by the same production studio, so some overlap in terms of characterization and story threads is to be expected, but it's beginning to get a bit distracting. Primarily in the princess/fairy tale stories, we always have a spunky young girl (Rapunzel/Anna/Moana) team up with a gruff, smart-alecky guy (Flynn/Kristoff/Maui) to go on some sort of physical journey. Along the way they're accompanied by a comedic relief who acts as a sort of moral center for the guy (Maximus/Sven/Maui's Tattoo) and a comedic relief who is definitely there to appeal more to kids (Pascal/Olaf/Heihei the Chicken). Sometime in the third act, there's a moment where the color goes flat to indicate a serious dramatic turn. These trends are less evident in the non-princess films, but are still there in some way, shape, or form (the dynamic between Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps, when Wreck-It Ralph smashes Vanellope's car, and so on). Don't get me wrong, all of these films are enjoyable (Moana included), but Disney definitely has to be wary of this in the future (in terms of their animated, Marvel, and Star Wars franchises).

Now that I've got my griping out of the way, I'm free to say that I absolutely loved everything else about this movie. Disney continues to be a house of bonafine pioneers when it comes to making something as commonplace as CG animation look astoundingly gorgeous. There are more than a few "oh wow" moments in this movie, mostly involving the ocean. This is a film bursting with color; the cool, vibrant palette of greens and blues gives everything a lively, organic feel, despite how obviously animated it is. The cast is also a delight, as small as it is. I already mentioned what a good job Auli'i Cravalho does as Moana, but I also naturally found Dwayne Johnson to be beyond enjoyable as Maui (though I almost feel inclined to like him no matter what he does). The Flight of the Conchords' Jemaine Clement appears as Tamatoa, a glam-rock crab that was clearly inspired by David Bowie; he's given the closest thing the film has to a villain song and it definitely doesn't disappoint. The best performance, however, I feel came care of Rachel House, who voiced Moana's Gramma Tala. This is a role that requires inspiring the majority of the film's emotional and spiritual weight, and House completely nails it with aplomb. This is one of those casts where there is no weakest link, just a few that are especially strong.

Overall, I had a lot of fun with Moana. It's gorgeously animated and the songs (care of Hamilton's Lin-Manuel Miranda) stayed consistently strong and memorable throughout. The cast is immediately endearing and the visuals are mind-blowing for anyone remotely into animation, but I still felt as though the story was somewhat lacking. Had this had stronger character growth, I could easily see this becoming the new gold standard of this Disney Revival period; unfortunately, like so many Disney Princesses before me, I'm left wanting more. Moana is a perfectly inoffensive film, just don't expect anything especially groundbreaking beyond its visuals. It honestly feels like a film straight out of the 90's Renaissance, for better and for worse. If you enjoy Disney's animated musicals, then this should be right in your wheelhouse; it doesn't exactly have the complexity or ingenuity of the more modern Disney films, but it's sure to make you smile.

REVIEW: Doctor Strange

We are living in the adolescence of the MCU. For a while, it was enough to have multiple characters from different films on one screen. The Avengers is a film that, in hindsight, got along nearly entirely on being a novel spectacle. Once that became commonplace, it came time to branch out and release adaptations for more obscure, less instantly-marketable characters. Ant-Man. Guardians of the Galaxy. Jessica Jones. And now that Rocket Raccoon is a household name, it is time for the MCU to evolve once more, lest it become the franchise equivalent of a shiftless twenty-something who lives at home and refuses to get a job. By 2018, the MCU will have existed for an entire decade; ten years, twenty films, six Netflix series, and several billion dollars. If this constant flow of content and money is to continue, then innovation must be a constant rule; the second the formula begins to get stale, the series is finished. Marvel Studio's latest release, Doctor Strange, is in many ways a step in the right direction. In other ways, not so much, but I feel as though it can definitely influence the way things are done at Marvel from here on out.

As one might expect, this is another origin story; we follow Dr. Stephen Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch), an arrogant, self-absorbed neurosurgeon who owes his distinguished career to his steady, unshakable hands. After a car accident leaves him with severe nerve damage, the good doctor finds himself out of a job. Desperate to return to his former glory and with no other option in sight, he travels to the mysterious Kamar-Taj in search of a cure. It is here that he learns of the mystic arts, under the tutelage of the Sorcerer Supreme, an enigmatic woman known only as The Ancient One (Tilda Swinton). After a cabal of zealots led by the evil Kaecilius (Mads Mikkelsen) steal a dark rite from The Ancient One's personal library, it is up to Strange and his fellow sorcerers, Mordo (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and Wong (Benedict Wong), to stop Kaecilius from invoking the dread Dormammu and condemning the Earth to a dimension of total darkness.

Right off the bat, I want to say how much I admire how weird this movie is willing to get. Whereas most Marvel movies are full of explosions and shimmering pillars of light, this is a film packed to the brim with astral projection, mirror dimensions, and alternate plains of reality. There's no cop-out "magic is just science we don't understand yet" nonsense like in Thor; now that they've established themselves as a money-making powerhouse who can market Ant-Man as a successful summer blockbuster, Marvel Studios is completely unafraid to say "magic" with a straight face. This is the aspect that sets it apart from the rest of the MCU. Not once do we see a city block get demolished during a grey, dusty climax. In fact, we see a city block get put back together during a bright, vibrant climax. This is a movie that is, for the most part, very clever in how it avoids adhering to the same old Marvel formula. However, there are naturally a few pitfalls that the filmmakers simply couldn't avoid, despite their best efforts.

Rachel McAdams plays what could possibly maybe be called Strange's love interest, Dr. Christine Palmer. I say maybe because she really doesn't have much to do in terms of the story. Her chemistry with Cumberbatch is very organic and lends itself to some strong moments (such as an icy confrontation while he's recuperating from his accident), but at the end of the day her character still feels tacked on in an attempt to fill the usual niche of "female lead". Some have speculated that her inclusion was to dispel any fears that could lead to feelings of gay panic; Doctor Strange is a man in a flowing, Liberace-style cape who cavorts about with other, similarly flamboyantly-dressed men in a monastery where the only female is an androgynous, non-sexualized Tilda Swinton. Clearly we have to give him a tumultuous relationship with a former lady-love so that there's no question that he's a big, tough, masculine superhero. I'm of course exaggerating, since I honestly don't think that that was the intent of the filmmakers in any way, but one must wonder what they intended to accomplish by including this character in the story. Their "romance", if it can be called that, is entirely half-baked and has no bearing on the plot whatsoever. I'd be fine with this subversion, where the male and female leads come out of a romance just being platonic friends, but that doesn't change that the character of Christine Palmer is barely a footnote in the actual plot of Strange and his band of merry magicians stopping Hannibal from sucking Earth into another dimension.

Speaking of, Mads Mikkelsen was entirely wasted on this story. I remember hearing that he was cast and being overjoyed; who could he possibly be playing? Dormammu? Mephisto? Had Marvel secretly gotten the rights to Doctor Doom? No. Instead, this incredible talent is used on a one-shot villain who not only has no bearing on the MCU as a whole, but who will likely not be remembered by the time Thor: Ragnarok comes out. To be fair, I don't mind Kaecilius' plan; honestly, it's a pretty good plan. He sees The Ancient One as a hypocrite, using forbidden rites to extend her own life well beyond what is naturally possible. In his eyes, the power of eternal life is a gift that should be embraced and given to the entire world, even if it means submitting to a cosmic demon from the realm of shadows. His motivation is sound, which is a good first step for a one-off MCU villain, but he's completely lacking in pathos. There's a throwaway line about how he began studying the mystic arts after his entire family was killed, but that's essentially all he gets in terms of characterization or backstory. This is a character who had the potential to rise above the usual, generic "dark reflection of the protagonist with a similar powerset" mold that the MCU seems to love so much, but doesn't quite measure up.

For all my griping, I think it's worth saying that, despite these flaws, I really did enjoy this movie quite a bit. The special effects are imaginative to the extreme; if there's one thing that gives me hope for the future of the MCU, it's the recent trend of spicing up the tried and true formula with really inventive action setpieces. Ant-Man took full advantage of a protagonist who shrinks. In a similar fashion, Doctor Strange takes full advantage of having multiple characters who can bend the fabric of reality at will. While the story is pretty standard, the action is thought out and calculated in really nifty, original ways; I especially enjoyed the climax, though I won't spoil what happens here. The effects look like a Steve Ditko fever dream brought to life; in all honesty, this is probably one time I should have sprung for a 3D showing. 

I also really enjoyed all the performances here; Benedict Cumberbatch is the clear highlight, managing to pull off the role of the smarmy, cocksure genius without feeling too much like Robert Downy Jr's Tony Stark. Chiwetel Ejiofor acts as a strong foil for Strange, coming across as more of an ardent fundamentalist. It's a classic dynamic between two partners, one fastidious and the other more flexible, which translates surprisingly well to dignified masters of the arcane. Tilda Swinton was a definite highlight as The Ancient One; while her casting brought on accusations of white-washing (in what screenwriter C. Robert Cargill accurately referred to as a Kobayashi Maru of a situation), it's not as though the character's original design (that of a Fu-Manchu bearded old Asian man) would have been met with less controversy. I've always figured that the rule of thumb with race-swapping characters in film adaptations is "it doesn't matter, so long as the actor does a good job". Tilda Swinton does a fantastic job, so as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't matter.

Doctor Strange is a solid entry in the MCU. It didn't blow me away (at least in terms of story or characterization), but it managed to overcome its various flaws to deliver a fun, unique, and entertaining superhero adaptation. Despite the flat villain, groan-worthy "jokes", and breakneck pace of the plot, the mesmerizing special effects and inventive action setpieces won me over in the end; I had a great time with it. That said, I feel as though this represents something of an omen for the future of the MCU. Doctor Strange has its issues, but they are easily outweighed by its innovation in other key areas. That's more than fine for now, but this approach won't necessarily work for Doctor Strange 3 or Thor 5 or Avengers: We Got the Rights to X-Men down the line. All of the things holding this film back from its truest potential are inherent in the established Marvel formula; the forgettable villain, the shoehorned love interest, the uneven plot. These are the same issues presented in so many other Marvel Studios productions. Granted, the studio is likely set until 2020 no matter what they put out, but I should certainly hope that they start giving these recurring problems serious attention in the coming years. Avengers: Infinity War is just around the corner. Once that's finally over and done with, Marvel Studios is going to have to do some serious innovating to hold the attention (not to mention hard-earned cash) of the moviegoing public. Hopefully Doctor Strange will live on as a precedent of innovation in an iconic film series, rather than a sign that the Marvel formula isn't going anywhere anytime soon.

REVIEW: Snow Day

There was a time when Nickelodeon was the undisputed king of children's programming. It was the first major network devoted entirely to kids and, at the time, it wasn't a stretch to say it was the best. While my mind may be somewhat clouded by nostalgia, conjuring visions of green slime and elusive magazine subscriptions, it's still safe to say that the late 90's boasted a pretty objectionably excellent lineup of programming on Nick. We saw the rise of Spongebob Squarepants (before it became the shambling corpse it is today), as well as classic shows like Hey Arnold, Rugrats, KaBlam!!, and Rocko's Modern Life. There were so many strong, recognizable properties they had to work with back in the day, which is why I'm utterly confused as to why Nickelodeon Films decided to make a movie like Snow Day; a film that can't decide which demographic it wants to appeal to. In the end, it chooses to appeal to no one.

The movie, as the title implies, takes place on a snow day and follows the members of the Brandston family. Teenage son Hal (Mark Webber) is a high school loser who pitifully stalks the most popular girl in school in hopes that she'll come around and start dating him. The dad, Tom (Chevy Chase), is a small-time weather man hoping to one-up his eternal rival, Chad Symmonz (John Schneider). Meanwhile, the middle child, Natalie (Zena Grey) teams up with her friends to try and take down the notorious Snowplowman (Chris Elliot), bane of children and destroyer of snow days. The whole time this is all going on, workaholic mom Laura (Jean Smart) is stuck at home with her energetic toddler, snowed in and unable to get to the office to finalize her big business deal. If you think this sounds like a half dozen movies all crammed into one, you'd be exactly right. It's an absolute mess that tries to act like a sampler platter of plots, but botches the execution spectacularly.

The first thing that's worth noting is the odd sort of mysticism that the movie tries to assign to the idea of a snow day. Maybe I was just a social pariah as a kid, but snow days weren't particularly "magical" when I was little; it was just a lucky occurrence where I got to miss school and pelt hunks of ice at passing FedEx trucks with my friends. The movie is constantly reminding us that "anything can happen on a snow day", as if it's the passing of some sort of millennium comet that was predicted by ancient soothsayers. In the world of this movie, a snow day basically means society pauses for 24 hours, allowing adults, teens, and children alike to hit the streets and frolic through the powder like a department store Christmas display. The only context in which this idea sort of works is found with the Snowplowman story; the film's director, Chris Koch, also worked on The Adventures of Pete & Pete, and that influence is felt strongest in this plot line. If the entire movie possessed that uniquely Nickelodeon brand of kidlike absurdity, it all just might have worked. Unfortunately, every other character's story is totally mundane in the worst kind of way.

Hal's story is a crash course of every lazy highschool cliché in the book. Dorky loser wants to get with unattainable popular girl. Popular girl has rich jerk boyfriend. Dorky loser ends up with modestly attractive gal pal who was right in front of him all along. They kiss, roll credits. The only remotely memorable thing about this plot is the popular girl's choice in wardrobe (which, in all honesty, makes me wonder how this managed to keep a PG rating). Meanwhile, the mom's story is practically nonexistant. We get glimpses into her day every now and then, basically just to see her try and get work done while her worryingly rambunctious toddler interrupts with comic hijinks. I'm all for togetherness and familial bonding, but some things just take precedent over frolicking in a winter wonderland. The kid is completely in the wrong here, no matter what the film says. He strips down to his skivvies, makes his mom drop her phone in a snowbank during an important conference call, and doesn't receive so much as a stern talking to. The woman is trying to put bread on the table and this kid has exactly no respect for that. Why he couldn't just play in the snow with his sister (or why the mom couldn't just get a sitter for an afternoon), I'll never know.

Chevy Chase's story is literally just the continuing adventures of Clark Griswold. Chevy Chase feels underappreciated at his job, does stupid, pigheaded things to get his dues, suffers comic consequences, and finally earns the recognition he deserves. Do you see the recurring theme of "character wants end goal, scenes happen, character gets what they want"? The most interesting story by far is Natalie's war against Snowplowman; why the movie wasn't entirely about that, I have no idea. The film spreads itself way too thin in trying to appeal to everyone, sacrificing the elements of it that had the potential to be fun. I'd really like to hear about the making of this movie, since I refuse to believe that it was anything but the Snowplowman story to begin with. The additional plots positively reek of executive meddling, attempting to rope in more demographics aside from the Salute Your Shorts crowd. Really, an anthology following a group of characters in different age groups with different problems on a snow day is an idea that has legs, but it doesn't amount to much when the execution is so horrendously botched as it is here.

Snow Day is just a bland, bad, forgettable movie. Parents won't like it because of all the annoying kid stuff. Kids won't like it because of all the boring grown-up stuff. Teens won't like it because the romance is shallow, juvenile, and at times really creepy. The only positive things about it are a pretty fun Iggy Pop cameo and Snowplowman; Chris Elliot is acting to the rafters and his entire character feels like something in the same wheelhouse as The Beast from The Sandlot. Again, maybe if the Snowplowman story had been the entire film, we'd have had something here. Unfortunately, we instead have a half-baked hodgepodge of genres that doesn't result in anything worth remembering. Apologies to my mom for renting this endlessly from Blockbuster. Upon rewatching it, I really don't know what I ever saw in this that required more than one viewing, but yet here I am. I guess anything really can happen on a snow day.

REVIEW: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Given that it's been several years since the Harry Potter film series came to a close (and nearly a decade since the final book was released, not counting the recent stage play), it's sometimes easy to forget just what a huge phenomenon the series was back in the day. I grew up on the stories and films, so this franchise more or less dominated a huge portion of my life; it was an ongoing event comparable to the original Star Wars saga. While I still consider myself a fan, no question, I must admit that it's been years since I've re-read any of the books or revisited any of the movies. We all assumed there would be more Harry Potter some day, whether or not it was entirely necessary. Though I doubt anyone could have guessed we'd end up with a prequel spin-off containing none of the original characters we'd spent an entire decade reading about. As is the popular trend nowadays, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them hopes to establish a cinematic universe in which the films are connected through a shared canon, while not necessarily directly related to one another. It was recently announced that this would be the first of a whopping five films (an announcement I feel holds as much water as James Cameron's insistence that there will be four more consecutively-filmed Avatar sequels released between 2018 and 2023), so the question still remains; is this movie strong enough to establish a series of its own without Harry Potter and pals picking up the slack?

Taking place in the year 1926 (nearly 70 years before Harry Potter would be admitted to Hogwarts), the plot follows magizoologist Newt Scamander (Eddie Redmayne) as he journeys to New York City on personal business. After a mix-up with a non-wizard named Jacob Kowalski (Dan Fogler), numerous magical creatures escape Newt's enchanted suitcase and begin wreaking havoc on the city. This does little to ease the tension brewing within the wizarding community; a string of anti-muggle attacks by the infamous Gellert Grindelwald (Johnny Depp) have threatened to expose the magical world at large and inspired the rise of groups like the Second Salemers, a fanatical cult of non-magic users hoping to expose and destroy those who practice witchcraft. At the same time, a sinister presence has begun causing destruction and chaos in New York. Naturally, Newt's creatures take the blame and the task falls to him, Jacob, and Tina Goldstein (an agent for the Magical Congress of the United States of America played by Katherine Waterson) to round up his beasts before any harm can come to them (or indeed, the world at large).

It must be said, I'm eternally grateful that J.K. Rowling decided to step outside the box with this film; it would have been positively tragic had we gotten a Harry Potter prequel focusing on Young Dumbledore or the adventures of Harry's parents when they were at Hogwarts or, god forbid, a Star Wars prequel-style series about how Tom Riddle became Lord Voldemort. Instead, we get something totally new and original; a movie starring the author of a textbook that is occasionally mentioned offhandedly by the main characters as a bit of set dressing. Something that, realistically speaking, has next to nothing to do with the story told in the previous Harry Potter films. It would have been tremendously easy to make a movie about Harry's kids or something equally banal and pointless; the Harry Potter name prints money, so a spin-off would be successful no matter what. It's that the filmmakers and Ms. Rowling decided to go the extra mile and make something daring and different that I respect. That effort pays off, since we get to see a whole new side of the wizarding world which we've never seen before. 

The original series hinted at international magical communities outside of England (most prominently in Goblet of Fire), but we never really got to see how things were done overseas. Unlike every other piece of Harry Potter media, the entirety of this film takes place in the United States; as is to be expected, things are done differently on this side of the pond. Instead of a Ministry of Magic, Americans have the Magical Congress. Instead of Hogwarts, there's Ilvermorny. Instead of "muggles", non-magical folk are referred to as "no-maj". While it might seem like a simple change of backdrop and terminology at first glance, the film does a fine job of making the United States feel like totally new territory in the Harry Potter universe. The events of the original story are presented as wholly irrelevant to the plot; there's a few callbacks and name-drops here and there, but the film, for the most part, plays all of its references close to the chest. There's no immersion-shattering cameo from a young Dumbledore; barring Grindelwald (who was practically as much a footnote in the original series as Newt Scamander was), any and all references to the previous films are cursory at best. This is a film that knows when it is appropriate to evoke feelings of nostalgia without distracting the audience, something that all modern revivals (from Jurassic World to Star Wars) should take note of.

That said, the film is most definitely not without its flaws. The first act is a ploddingly slow, poorly-paced jumble of scenes; while it's naturally fun to get re-immersed in the wizarding world and enjoy the drastic change of scenery and setting, the plot doesn't really begin until around thirty minutes in. Once the movie actually takes off, it's as engaging and fun as one might hope for, but the path to that point borders at being a chore at times. There were also points where the movie as a whole felt somewhat overstuffed. Sorcerer's Stone had a fairly basic plot, since it had to establish the entire world in which the story takes place. This allowed the sequels to grow more complex, since the bulk of the world building was already set up and out of the way. Fantastic Beasts operates under the assumption that viewers are already familiar with all the previous entries in the series to that point, but also has to establish its own distinct world, separate from the rest of the existing Harry Potter universe. The film clocks in at just over two hours and not a minute of it is wasted; the reason the first act comes off as so sloppy is purely due to all of the setup it needs to get out of the way before the real plot can begin. 

While I don't really have any objective issues with the story, it does feel a bit dense for the first movie in a new series. Given that he's an outsider (like Harry was, initially), it very much feels like Kowalski should have been the main protagonist (despite him not being able to contribute anything to the action-packed climax); Newt doesn't have much of an arc to speak of and, while endearing, honestly comes off as pretty flat in terms of his characterization. I also wasn't a fan of the main antagonist, Percival Graves (Colin Farrell). In a series featuring such iconic villains as Dolores Umbridge and Lord Voldemort himself, there's immense potential to be found with the Director of Magical Security for the United States. Unfortunately, this character completely fell flat for me; his goals aren't clearly defined until the very end of the film and I was able to spot the twist coming a mile away. It honestly would have been more shocking (as well as a nice parallel to Sorcerer's Stone) to have the brash, spooky jerk turn out to be one of the good guys all along, despite the protagonist's (and audience's) expectations that he was really working for the main villain the whole time. Imagine if, at the end of Sorcerer's Stone, we find out that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were totally right and that Snape was the one trying to steal the stone for Voldemort. That is essentially what the "twist" in Fantastic Beasts amounts to; in a film with so much imagination and ingenuity, it's the one glaring aspect that feels utterly mundane and expected.

Despite my reservations, I must say that Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them turned out to be a solid entry into an iconic series. I wasn't entirely sure that this movie needed to exist, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't get some powerful chills the moment the Warner Bros logo floated in through the fog to the tune of that iconic jingle. In a world of cinematic universes and soft-reboots that seem to minimize on ingenuity in an effort to maximize profit, Fantastic Beasts manages to revive a beloved franchise while at the same time doing something totally original and independent of the established iconography. It has its flaws, but I believe it rises above them and justifies its existence by simply being a very enjoyable movie on its own. I'm still not entirely sold on the idea of four more sequels following Newt Scamander and company, but this film has certainly proven that it is possible to tell a good story in J.K. Rowling's wizarding world without once saying the name "Harry Potter".

REVIEW: Small Soldiers

Since I started this blog over a year ago, it's been a stellar excuse to discover new films that may have passed me by. By the same token, it's also an excellent excuse to rediscover old films from my youth. Movies that I remember watching endlessly, but haven't seen in well over a decade. Movies like Small Soldiers. For me, this was just another late-90's action flick with a badass toy line; I could care less about the plot or characters, it was all about the special effects and the merchandise. I honestly hadn't seen this since I was around five years old, having rented it countless times from the local Blockbuster. Since then I couldn't help but notice how no one seems to talk about what, at the time, felt like a very prevalent movie to me. Perhaps it was just the power of advertising and action figures warping my impressionable young mind, but Small Soldiers struck me as anything but obscure back in the day. It was because of this dissonance that I felt it deserved a revisit; imagine my surprise to find out that it was in fact directed by the mastermind behind Gremlins, Joe Dante.

This makes perfect sense, seeing as how this movie is positively oozing with Dante's trademark themes and motifs. After the Heartland Toy Company is acquired by military contractor GloboTech Industries, toy designers Larry and Irwin (Jay Mohr and David Cross) are pressured to come up with the next big thing; a state-of-the-art toy that "plays back". Seeing no other option to meet his deadline, Larry uses his new security clearance to order a surplus of advanced microchips from the company's military branch. The chips are used in a new line of action figures; the Commando Elite, a stalwart brigade of army men sworn to destroy a gentle race of monsters known as the Gorgonites. The toys find their way into the hands of Alan Abernathy (Gregory Smith), who tries to sell them in his dad's struggling toy store. Naturally, putting military-grade hardware inside action figures proves to be a less-than-smart idea, as the toys awaken, escape, and begin waging war on one another.

Watching this movie as an adult, it's painfully obvious that Joe Dante directed this. It's very much in the same mold as Gremlins, condemning society's over-reliance on technology, as well as the blatant ruthlessness that lies at the heart of big business. It falls into that same category as films like Robocop or Videodrome, in which a critique of society is conveyed through over-the-top action, mutilation, and one-liners. The CEO of GloboTech (Dennis Leary) scoffs at the idea of educational toys, instead opting for a line of in-your-face military action figures. The Commando Elite come off like G.I. Joe on steroids (all, coincidentally, voiced by the cast of The Dirty Dozen, with the exception of Richard Jaeckel, who died prior to shooting), making a bold statement about how we readily present concepts of war and violence to children as a game in exchange for profit. The Gorgonites (all voiced by members of Spinal Tap, plus Frank Langella) are clearly a more imaginative, inclusive concept for a children's toy, yet end up branded as cannon fodder enemies for the Commandos to blow away. Ironically enough, the film's darker content was reportedly toned down in order to more effectively market a toy line to children (like myself).

The cast is surprisingly varied; as mentioned, this movie acts as a stealth-reunion for both The Dirty Dozen and This is Spinal Tap. We have Frank Langella giving a very Peter Cullen-esque performance as Archer, leader of the Gorgonites, as well as Tommy Lee Jones providing the voice of Chip Hazard, the commanding officer of the Commando Elite. The film also features a young Kirsten Dunst as a bland and forgettable love interest, Kevin Dunn in the same high-strung dad role he would later play in Michael Bay's Transformers movies, and voice cameos from Jim Cummings, Sarah Michelle Gellar, and Christina Ricci. This is also, most notably, the final theatrical role of the late, great Phil Hartman. I didn't expect to feel any wild emotions at the end of Small Soldiers of all things, but it's hard not to get misty-eyed when the credits end with a simple blooper and the dedication, "for Phil".

As much as I enjoyed the cast and the special effects (care of another dearly-departed master of his craft, Stan Winston) and the general Joe Dante-ness of this movie, there's no denying that Small Soldiers isn't without its problems. The whole thing can, at times, come off as a not-as-good Gremlins and, while the practical effects remain excellent, the CGI hasn't aged particularly well at all. The romantic subplot is entirely superfluous and out of the blue, which isn't helped by Dunst and Smith having practically negative chemistry with each other. Their attempts at flirting are downright painful to listen to and she initiates their relationship without ever consulting or dumping her current boyfriend. When it's not coming off as painfully awkward and forced, it settles for totally skeezy instead. 

I also honestly wasn't that sold on the Gorgonites; I remembered them having a much larger role when I was a child, but that's likely because of how prevalent they were in the merchandise. The vast bulk of the screentime is given to the Commando Elite (which is earned, since they're easily the best part of this movie), leaving little time for us to care at all about Archer and his crew of quiet monsters. As they explain, the Gorgonites are programmed to do exactly two things; hide and lose. As great as their designs are, we don't really end up caring about them since they don't have any agency. We're meant to care whether or not these toys are destroyed or not, despite the fact that they're hunks of plastic with low-self-esteem. It honestly feels like the film originally only featured the Commando Elite, only for the Gorgonites to be thrown in to appeal to kids (and, of course, sell action figures). It's a damn shame, since there's few things I find more tragic in a film than wasted potential, especially in regards to wicked cool creature designs.

Despite my gripes, I still found Small Soldiers to be a fun time. It drags here and there and the characterization is either a total bore or nowhere to be found, but it definitely makes up for it in terms of sheer wackiness. There's a part of me that will always have a soft spot for this kind of movie, where there's a big threat in the heart of a suburb in Anytown, USA, and the only person who knows what's really going on is the troublemaking kid whom no one believes. It's a fistful of beefy metaphors wrapped around a whole lot of animatronic army guys getting blown up and set on fire; considering the plot, I don't know what else one could realistically ask for. It's far from Joe Dante's best, but I'd definitely say it qualifies for cult status, considering how often it made me smile. Check it out.

REVIEW: Tangled

With Moana right around the corner, it seemed an ideal time to explore a modern animated Disney film that I had somehow never bothered to watch up until just now. To be perfectly honest, Tangled hit theaters when I really couldn't have cared less what was coming out of the Disney Animation Studios; direct-to-video sequels were being pumped out at every turn and their theatrical efforts by and large struggled to fill the shoes of the classics that had come before. The Renaissance had ended and Disney found itself somehow reverted to the Dark Ages. Perhaps a bit hyperbolic (considering this era gave us quality films like The Princess and The Frog and, I can't believe I'm saying this, Cinderella 3: A Twist in Time), but one only has to compare a movie like Chicken Little to a movie like Mulan to get an idea of how the studio had changed over a few short years. It may seem shocking, considering it's been three years since Frozen was released and we still can't seem to let it go, but it wasn't long ago that the prospect of a new Disney film wasn't all that exciting. Pixar figurehead John Lasseter was put in charge of Disney Animation in 2006, signaling a turnaround in the studio's output. While The Princess and The Frog was Disney's true contemporary return to form, it was the studio's next film, Tangled, that is often credited with kickstarting the new Disney Renaissance.

Originally titled Rapunzel Unbraided, the film's name was changed to better represent the story's dual protagonists (as well as to appeal to the young male demographic that would later motivate the House of Mouse to spend several billion dollars acquiring Marvel and Lucasfilm). Kidnapped as a baby and confined to a tower for her entire life, Princess Rapunzel (Mandy Moore) longs to see and explore the outside world. She ends up crossing paths with one Flynn Rider (Zachary Levi), a would-be dashing rogue on the run from the royal guard after a daring heist. He finds himself shanghaied into helping the young princess escape her confinement to see the annual lantern festival in a nearby kingdom. Meanwhile, the duo are pursued by the sinister Mother Gothel (Donna Murphy), a conceited witch who wishes to keep Rapunzel imprisoned forever, so that she may use the girl's magical hair to continually grant herself eternal youth.

While the concept of "spunky girl and tough guy with a heart of gold" is slowly becoming a recurring theme with modern Disney movies, the dynamic here between Rapunzel and Flynn is utterly delightful, making for plenty of Romancing the Stone-esque action and adventure. Both are endearing, capable characters in their own right, playing to each others strengths in every situation. They're a bonafide power couple; while their occasional use of modern slang can get a bit distracting, Moore and Levi's chemistry more than makes up for it in the long run. Theirs is a relatable, enjoyable romance that definitely sets the tone for films to come.

For me personally, the character who stole the show was Donna Murphy as Mother Gothel. Memorable villains are a trademark of Disney's animated features, and this is no exception; she's narcissistic, self-absorbed, and manipulating, playing an excellent foil to the naive-but-good-natured Rapunzel. Their dynamic is easily one of the most engaging aspects of the film; this isn't some ditzy girl falling for the villain's obvious scheme. For all intents and purposes, Gothel raised Rapunzel as if she were her own; it was far from an ideal upbringing, but we see Rapunzel struggle between feeding her own dreams and desires and betraying the closest thing to family she's ever known. We see her come to terms with the fact that their relationship is an abusive one and are able to sympathize with her plight. It's a more intimate, tighter-knit hero/villain relationship than one usually sees in movies like this. Maybe its because there's no climactic action sequence, maybe it's because the character gets nowhere near as much screentime as I would have liked, but I can't shake the feeling that Mother Gothel is one of the utmost underrated Disney villains of all time.

As strong as the characters are (make no mistake, they carry this movie), I can't help but feel left wanting in regards to the soundtrack. That's not to say any of the songs are bad (I honestly enjoyed all of them), it's just that there's not as many memorable numbers as one would expect from Disney regular, Alan Menkin. The majority of the songs here are merely passable; there's no Let It Go, no I'll Make a Man Out of You, no Part of Your World. The "main" song, I See the Light, is more or less a perfectly ordinary romantic duet, completely saved by the gorgeous lanterns sequence which accompanies it. That said, I did in particular enjoy I've Got a Dream, which conjured up distinct vibes reminiscent of Monty Python and the Holy Grail and Blazing Saddles. The best song by far, however, comes unsurprisingly from Donna Murphy. Mother Knows Best was written to be a Sondheim-esque broadway number, and it shows. Murphy utterly kills this track (in particular the reprise later on in the film), imbuing it with a passionate energy that's lacking from most of the other songs on display. The world went mad for Idina Menzel's vocals in Frozen, but I can't help but feel that Donna Murphy does just as good a job here, to say the very least.

While it stumbles occasionally, Tangled is still a delightful, charming, and thoroughly heartfelt film through and through. This is a Disney fairy tale at its finest, easily ranking among the studio's best work. As Disney made the transition to computer-generated animation, they felt the need to directly compete with Dreamworks' trendier, more sardonic offerings. This led to a number of oddball projects (like the aforementioned Chicken Little) that attempted to revamp the Disney brand into something hip and thoroughly modern. The Princess and The Frog symbolized a return to form, but Tangled is where the studio really found its footing in the modern era, embracing that classical Disney magic that never truly goes out of style. It's a feel-good timeless adventure that I truly regret not seeing in the theaters; if you somehow haven't watched it already, definitely check this one out.

REVIEW: The Worst Witch

I wasn't entirely sure how I was going to spend this Halloween. It's easily my favorite holiday, so there's really no telling what manner of merriment I could find myself wrapped up in like so many toilet paper mummies. I can, however, tell you the one way I didn't expect to be spending my Halloween, and that's sitting at home watching the 1986 made-for-TV movie, The Worst Witch. I really don't know what to classify this as, exactly. Don't get me wrong, it's awful, but that doesn't mean that I'm not going to break this out every Halloween from now on. It's so terrible it may have just become a tradition.

The plot follows Mildred Hubble (Fairuza Balk, in what I like to pretend is a prequel to The Craft), a student at the prestigious Miss Cackle's Academy for Witches. A thoroughly mediocre student to begin with (some might even call her the WORST witch), her life is anything but charmed (no pun intended). To make matters worse, she's constantly antagonized by a particularly nasty teacher, as well as a snobbish blonde rival. Students at this school for witchcraft and wizardry partake in potions class, as well as flying lessons taught by an instructor who wears goggles while riding her enchanted broom. The only people who seem to give Mildred a break are her dim, goofy best friend and the eccentric old headmistress of the school, and it was right around this point that I started to wonder if J.K. Rowling is actually a humongous thief who pilfered all of her ideas from a comically bad children's special that aired on HBO in the mid-80's.

While there's bound to be some overlap when it comes to the concept of "magic boarding school", it's honestly uncanny how many similarities there are between The Worst Witch and the Harry Potter series. The scenes that take place during the flying lessons are especially flagrant, since they look like they take place in practically the same castle courtyard we saw in Sorcerer's Stone. Now I'm not saying that one series stole ideas from the other (if anything, I'm vaguely implying it at best), but it's amazing when one considers the similarities, not just in terms of aesthetic, but in terms of story structure.

Both series feature a scene where a character goes surfing on a broomstick. Both series have scenes where the mean blonde kid is turned into an animal as a form of comeuppance. Both series have a magical villain (with a crazy, over-the-top underling) who is defeated by a seemingly innocuous spell. Both Mildred Hubble and Harry Potter are given honors by the headmaster in the Great Hall. I can't get enough of it. One would think that it would be easiest to draw parallels between Harry Potter and all of the Potter contemporaries; your Spiderwick Cronicles or Twilight or Series of Unfortunate Events. But no, the thing that it all bears an uncanny resemblance to is an 80's kids' movie where Tim Curry plays a tambourine in a technicolor wingsuit.

Yes, Tim "Frank-N-Furter" Curry is in this, playing the unfortunately named "Grand Wizard". He claims he has a lot of gigs to get to on Halloween and we can only hope none of them involve cross burnings in the deep south. We also have Dianna Rigg (The Avengers' Emma Peel/Game of Thrones' Olenna Tyrell, depending on your generation) as the slightly-less-unfortunately-named Miss Hardbroom; as one might surmise from her name, she's the Dean Wormer to Fairuza Balk's Delta House. She's normally so darn endearing everywhere she goes, it's genuinely fascinating to watch her play the part of a frigid old ice queen. You end up hating her, naturally, even though a part of you just doesn't want to. We also have Charlotte Rae of Diff'rent Strokes/Facts of Life fame, pulling double duty as Miss Cackle and her evil twin sister, Agatha. One is a perpetually flustered old woman with little to do, the other is a neon nightmare that sounds halfway between Wynonna Judd and Bruce Springsteen. I can't say everyone was good, nor can I say everyone was bad. I honestly don't know what kind of performances these actors gave. All I know is I was transfixed from start to finish.

The Worst Witch is an amazing piece of innocent schlock. The production value is laughable, the story is practically nonexistent, and the songs are the equivalent of a clown getting launched into a vat of acid; you don't really want to laugh, but you just can't think of any other way to process what you're feeling. I feel confident in saying that this is to Halloween as The Star Wars Holiday Special is to Christmas. The only core difference is The Worst Witch is about a half hour shorter, making it intrinsically better by default. Remember, anything can happen on Halloween. Even a couple of particularly stiff cocktails and a viewing of The Worst Witch. It's by no means ideal, but there's definitely worse ways to celebrate.