REVIEW: Jurassic School

I often find that the lower a movie's budget, the tougher it can be to make fun of it. Cost doesn't necessarily equate to effort, and there are plenty of films (like Roger Corman's Fantastic Four) that make up for their clear lack in technical prowess with sheer gumption and effort. A lot of the time, lack of funding ends up being a very real roadblock for a lot of smaller films, causing problems and setbacks that obscure all but the faintest glimmer of potential. And then you have movies like Jurassic School, a boring amateurish slog from the fine folks at The Asylum. I've made it known how little patience I have for children's films that don't bother putting in any effort because "it's for kids", and this is no exception.

As with most films from The Asylum, the plot pays legally distinct homage to (ie: rips off) more iconic, financially successful films; in this case E.T. and Jurassic Park. I'm not exactly sure why the writer chose films that are a good couple of decades old to market this schlock to oblivious kids and well-meaning grandparents alike, but I've got a theory. I feel like they were trying to muscle in on some of that sweet, sweet Jurassic World money, but only had a community college campus and a single gross, misshapen dinosaur puppet to work with. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

What could loosely be called the plot follows a boy named Tommy (Gabriel Bennett), a child prodigy and dinosaur fanatic. His hobbies include dabbing goo on ostrich eggs and mumbling out his lines like a pint-sized Tommy Wiseau. Seriously, there's so many botched line reads in this movie that I can only assume the words "take two" were never uttered on set. As he explains though his prolonged techno-babble monologue, Tommy has figured out a way to insert dinosaur DNA into an ostrich egg. Where this kid got dinosaur DNA (or an ostrich egg, for that matter) is left up to the imagination. We get to watch people wordlessly unload ferns from the back of a truck for about two uninterrupted minutes, but learning how a young boy acquired the blood of an extinct reptile just isn't interesting enough to warrant any screentime.

After placing the egg in his dino-making machine (represented by a laptop sat next to a plastic marble maze, because the filmmakers needed a fun visual, but not one that would break the bank), Tommy is shocked (as are we all) to discover that his experiment actually worked. A twelve year old boy has successfully tampered in God's domain and the result is... a dinosaur. It has a proper Latin name, but damned if I can be bothered to remember it. The newly-hatched abomination then laps up a beaker full of growth hormone and quadruples in size, changing from a CGI representation of what would happen if your budgerigar melted in the microwave to an offputting analog puppet. The puppet has no torso or legs, because that would be too expensive. It also isn't allowed to appear anywhere but "mostly offscreen", because properly framing your special effect is just too much work.

I need to take a minute to explain just how much I hated this creature (given the oh-so-original moniker of "Spike" by its master). It's clear that the filmmakers didn't have a whole lot to work with, but did they have to make the cutesy mascot of this film look so unsettling? Even on the box art (which is an entire discussion on its own), it looks like a sassy, irradiated chicken embryo. The cast does their best to emote and interact with this hideous little mistake, but its gaping, lopsided jaw and heavily-lidded, glassy eyes give off the impression that there's nothing going on inside its head. Nothing aside from some poor puppeteer's forearm, that is; the neck is so turgid and inarticulated, it's never not obvious that there's a grown man (or woman) just out of frame, crouched on their hands and knees operating this thing while the voice actor mewls and moans like a deaf cat. I haven't seen such an off-putting E.T. clone since Mac & Me, and at least that has the scene with the wheelchair kid and the cliff.

I also want to talk about the framing in this movie. Everything is shot like it's about to turn into weird, niche porn at any second (though I suppose that's not too surprising, given The Asylum's credentials). There's tons of awkward, empty wide shots and pointless, claustrophobic close-ups, not to mention those distracting half-cuts used to trim the runtime down. I could forgive a lack of budget and poor special effects. I can even overlook bad child actors. But the way this movie is shot inspires a distinct lack of technical ability to top it all off. That combined with the borderline plagiarized plot makes this nigh-indefensible. It's such an obvious cash-grab meant to sucker in people who don't know any better at the checkout line or the bargain bin. And do you know what the worst thing about this movie is? It's boring. It's not even "so bad it's good", it's just dull and uneventful. The kid makes a dinosaur for some kind of competition and doesn't tell anyone (despite this being the scientific find of the century). Then nothing happens until the dinosaur is captured by a scummy businessman. There's an extended chase sequence through a college library that's exactly as exciting as it sounds. The kid rescues the dinosaur, it dies, then it gets better. Roll credits. There's so little value here, I can't even recommend this one ironically. It's just bad.

Jurassic School is the worst kind of movie. In that it's soulless, and not even in a fun kind of way. There are bad movies, awful movies, that have more value as this, both as a piece of art and a piece of entertainment. Movies like The Room and Birdemic and Samurai Cop are worth intrinsically more than stuff like this; they've got more charm, more effort, and more entertainment value. "You're tearing me apart, Lisa" will echo in the halls of eternity; what of Jurassic School? What was the point, the inspiration, the goal? I guarantee not a single actor here (aside from maybe some of the kids) wanted to be involved in this, and it shows. I try to live my life by the idea that there are no truly bad experiences; you either have a good time, or a good story. Like the death of a loved one, Jurassic School is one of those tragic exceptions to that mindset. This is one of the things I'll regret when I'm on my deathbed, willing to pay any price for 80 more measly minutes on this mortal plain. I didn't like it.

REVIEW: Tarzan

The Disney Renaissance of the 80's and 90's tended to follow a pretty standard formula; adapt a classic fairy tale into an animated musical. Maybe toss in a celebrity voice or two, write Alan Menkin a check, and you've got a hit on your hands. The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and Aladdin all fit into this same mold, as timeless as they are. Personally, I find the films near the end of the Renaissance (or even immediately after it) to be more interesting overall. They mostly maintained that same classic idea of loose adaptation, but with a more varied pool of source material than before. Rather than lifting inspiration from the tales of The Brothers Grimm or Hans Christian Anderson, the Disney films of the mid-late 90's (and even the early 2000's to some extent) branched out and took more risks; there was more creative exploration than ever before. We got Shakespeare performed by talking lions, Robert Louis Stevenson set in space, and Tarzan, a more comparatively-grounded interpretation of a classic piece of literature (although the titular character's movements took visual inspiration from professional surfers, so I suppose that's a radical enough creative decision by my standards).

The film opens as a British couple and their infant son are marooned off the coast of Africa. After his parents are killed by a leopard, the baby finds himself adopted by Kala (Glenn Close), a silverback gorilla who recently lost her own child. Dubbed Tarzan by his adoptive mother, the titular hero (Tony Goldwyn) struggles to find his place in a jungle where he is the only one of his kind. Just as things are looking up, however, the situation becomes more complicated with the arrival of an English exploration team led by Professor Archimedes Q. Porter (Nigel Hawthorne, in his final role) and his daughter, Jane (Minnie Driver). Along with them is Clayton (Brian Blessed), a scheming hunter accompanying the expedition as a guide. As Tarzan discovers for the first time creatures who are like him, he's forced to decide who his true family is and where he truly belongs.

First off, I love Disney's abilities to get me so invested in something as simple and dry as the story of Tarzan. The "ape-man" archetype is such a played out trope, yet the main character comes off almost like a superhero (despite just being an agile guy in a loincloth). The first act alone is like a compact film in and of itself, showcasing Tarzan's origins and youth, concluding with a confrontation with the leopard that killed his parents. The film wastes no time whatsoever in getting the audience invested in what's happening character-wise; the action is pulse-pounding and kinetic, yet there's also more than a few moments where I found myself getting legitimately misty-eyed. It's a film that hops from tone to tone with surprising grace and finesse, where we're just as immersed and attentive during the quiet moments of introspection as we are when soaring through the treetops at a breakneck pace.

Of course, this coming from Disney in the late 90's, the animation on display is both stellar and revolutionary. The production team behind the film developed a new program called Deep Canvas that allowed the film's artists and animators to create CGI backgrounds that took on the appearance of traditionally-painted murals. The effect is both seamless and gorgeous, holding up remarkably well nearly twenty years later. This period (just before the release of Shrek in 2001) was the peak of mainstream animation; while plenty of modern films such as The Peanuts Movie and The LEGO Movie find interesting ways to use CGI to their advantage, there's simply no substitute for the kind of 2D animation we got back in the day. Even a film as fantastic as The Incredibles is starting to show its age, but Tarzan will look this gorgeous forever.

And that's to say nothing of the soundtrack. Now as much as I still think that South Park got robbed at the Academy Awards (and as much as I love the retribution Matt Stone and Trey Parker have taken over the years), there's no denying that Phil Collins did a tremendous job with the soundtrack. Given the overall darker, more dramatic tone of this film, it would have felt odd having some of these characters (especially Tarzan himself) break into song as in previous Disney musicals. Collins' drum-heavy pop-rock manages to meld perfectly with the animation and overall aesthetic of the film without feeling the least bit jarring (the Son of Man sequence in particular is a favorite of mine); each musical sequence is essentially a gorgeously-animated music video, dodging that recurring musical pitfall of "the characters sing about whatever it is they're currently doing as they do it". There's a bit more nuance to the whole thing and it really goes a long way in striking the proper mood.

The cast here is quite strong, if not entirely utilized to their fullest. Tony Goldwyn does an excellent job as Tarzan, particularly in how he conveys the sense of contrast between when he's speaking to humans and animals. Amongst the apes, he's as eloquent as anyone, but his language is much more limited when it comes to speaking proper English. He manages to strike a good, natural balance without falling into the same tired "me Tarzan, you Jane" schtick we've seen a hundred times before. I also quite enjoyed Lance Henriksen (but really, when don't I enjoy Lance Henriksen?) as Kerchak, Tarzan's reluctantly adoptive father. This character has a surprising amount of depth and nuance for how little screentime he has, and I found his arc to be one of the more touching aspects of the story as a whole. Brian Blessed is of course wonderful as the villain, Clayton, and Glenn Close does a superb job of capturing that motherly spirit (as if Mother Simpson didn't illustrate that well enough). We also have Wayne Knight and Rosie O'Donnell as Tantor and Terk, two of Tarzan's animal friends and the primary comedic relief. This is the only part where the film really feels noticeably lacking, as these characters don't really have anything interesting or funny to do. Compared to other Disney comedic relief of this era (Mushu in Mulan, Timon and Pumbaa in The Lion King, etc.), they just don't stack up.

The character who completely stole the movie for me, however, was Minnie Driver as Jane Porter. This character is just so much fun and it's clear what a massive impact Driver's performance had on Jane's mannerisms and animation. She displays so much energy and emotion, never once feeling like a bland love interest or clichéd fish-out-of-water. She's clever and capable, but she also has moments of awkwardness and absurdity. It's not too often you get to see a female protagonist get involved in physical humor; it's a refreshing twist on the kind of protagonist-love interest relationship you see in this sort of movie. The sequence where Tarzan and Jane first meet (pursued by a pack of angry baboons) is one of my favorite scenes out of any Disney movie, just because it strikes that screwball action/adventure tone so perfectly. The scene which immediately follows, whereupon Tarzan finally understands just what he is, is wonderful for an entirely different reason; the chase is fun, energetic, and comedic, while the quieter interaction that follows is far more subtle and heartfelt by comparison. Its a pair of scenes that sum up the sides of this character's personality perfectly, and a big part of what makes her work so well is Minnie Driver's performance (Fun Fact: her "Daddy, they took my boot!" monologue was entirely improvised).

Overall, I have to say it's a shame that Tarzan, like so many other Disney films of the late/post Renaissance period, never seems to get the respect or adoration it so sorely deserves. It's the kind of film I would very much love to see come out of the Disney Animation Studios again; not only in the sense that it's traditionally animated, but in that it's a more low-key, inventive choice in film than what one would usually associate with Disney classics. Rather than your standard fairy tale or folk legend, Tarzan is an adaptation of a pulp novel from the early 1900's mixed with Phil Collins music and animation inspired by extreme sports. It's the kind of thing that you wouldn't necessarily immediately associate with the word "Disney", and that's precisely why I love it so much. Princesses will always be a safe bet, but after the box office numbers pulled in by Frozen. Zootopia, and Moana, I think it's safe to say that Disney can afford to be a little more daring a little more often. The fact that Zootopia (a cutesy talking animal flick that turned out to be a film noir crime-mystery about casual racism) performed as well as it did gives me hope that we'll see movies as nontraditional (or at least, nontraditional in a Disney sense) as Tarzan, Treasure Planet, and Atlantis sometime again soon.

REVIEW: Clown

I feel as though, for as prevalent as the "killer clown" trope tends to be, the number of notable horror films actually featuring killer clowns is more than a little lacking. Just to name the big ones, there's the 1990 It miniseries, Killer Klowns From Outer Space, and... that's about it. I suppose you could also include Poltergeist if you really wanted to, but even that's a bit of a stretch. It's something I've always found a little surprising; coulraphobia is a pretty common fear, ripe for exploitation. Even if someone isn't necessarily "afraid" of clowns, it's not exactly difficult to make them into something reasonably creepy, at the very least. But alas, the vast majority of killer clown movies tend to end up as nothing more than straight-to-video trash you find in those "25 Horror Movies for $5" value packs. This is part of the reason I was so intrigued by Clown, a 2014 independent horror film produced by Eli Roth and directed by Spider-Man: Homecoming's Jon Watts.

Coming off like an absurdist twist between The Shining and The Fly, the plot focuses on an ordinary real-estate agent by the name of Kent McCoy (Andy Powers). Due to a double-booking incident, Kent and his wife (Laura Allen) find themselves without a clown for their son's birthday party. Thinking quickly, Kent happens upon an old clown suit in the basement of one of the properties he's selling. Setting his dignity aside for his son's special day, Kent dons the suit, nose, and rainbow wig to entertain the kids, seemingly saving the party. The next morning, however, Kent is shocked to discover that, for whatever reason, the clown suit won't come off. The wig has attached itself to his head and the goofy red nose causes him physical pain whenever he tries to remove it. It isn't long before Kent begins to realize that he is physically turning into a clown; his skin begins to turn chalk white, his feet grow longer, and the wig begins to replace his real hair down to the roots. On top of all that, we learn that the clown suit was in fact not a clown suit at all, but rather the skin of an Icelandic demon known as a "Clöyne", which used its colorful appearance to lure children to its cave before devouring them whole. It's up to Kent to discover a cure for his monstrous condition, before the demon's hold (and his newfound hunger for children) overwhelm him for good.

Right from the premise (and the movie's opening, which features a soundtrack of children screaming over vintage depictions of happy clowns), it's plain to see that this isn't a film that takes itself entirely seriously. There's a modicum of self-awareness that comes with a story about a man becoming a were-clown, and I'm glad to see that the filmmakers understood this. There's a good mixture of genuine suspense and pitch-black comedy to be found here, but I almost feel as though the end result is a bit uneven, to the point that some of it comes off as a bit too mean-spirited at times. Mixing genres such as horror and comedy can create a great sense of juxtaposition if done well, but it requires a delicate touch. If we actually end up taking something seriously, only for it to be undercut with a joke moments later, than the tone comes off as inconsistent, and the respective elements of the horror and comedy genres end up blending about as well as oil and water. There are moments where the film really does go for a serious, straightforward tone and, to the credit of the filmmakers, it honestly works quite well as a legitimate horror film. There's a good deal of stomach-turning body-horror that comes with seeing a man fuse with a musty old clown costume, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't cringe more than a few times during Kent's vain attempts to remove it.

Things get even more dire during the second act, when we see our main character, who began as a totally ordinary guy, take on the appearance of a homeless addict. It honestly comes off like a John Wayne Gacy-esque metaphor for a pedophile trying to avoid temptation before finally giving in; watching Kent struggle against his newfound demonic hunger is really quite tragic and unpleasant in a very strong, effective kind of way. Despite the absurd premise, I honestly feel like this could have worked as a 100% serious, straightforward horror film. But this genuine sense of tension and unease is undercut by all of the dark visual humor. We watch an ordinary family man tearfully submit to cannibalistic urges after accidentally murdering a small child, but we also get to watch a laughably fake severed arm ride a tidal wave of blood down a Chuck-E-Cheese fun slide. The dark elements are too dark and the silly elements are too silly; rather than contrasting, they just end up cancelling each other out, and by the time the climax rolls around, it just feels like generic schlock with absolutely nothing in the way of emotional stakes.

Now for all my griping, I still have to hand it to the filmmakers for such a delightfully twisted concept. I'm not quite sure what it is, but the idea that someone can turn into a clown (implying that clowns are inhuman) just makes me smile deep down inside. Making it so that the first clown was really a Nordic demon who lured children away from their villages with promises of sweets and capering is just the icing on the cake. I'm such a sucker for this kind of revisionist folklore, since it gives storytellers such a wealth of opportunity to play around with the established iconography of our collective culture. It's the kind of element I enjoyed the most in films like Krampus and Rise of the Guardians; by putting a unique twist on something so immediately recognizable, we're able to further immerse ourselves in the world of the film. As one might expect, this is the part of the movie that works the best. The first two acts build up a really strong sense of tension and intrigue that, along with the existential dread of Kent's situation, completely make this film. 

Unfortunately, the final act is where it all falls apart. All of the characters stop making sense and Kent himself turns into a generic, brainless movie monster. While everyone's characterization suffers during the final act, none are worse off than Kent's wife, Meg; this may come off as nitpicking, but it seriously cannot be understated how utterly loathsome this character turns out to be. For the entire movie, she's played a relatively inoffensive role, concerned for her husband and protective of their son (Christian Destephano). In the final act, she becomes the most unlikable excuse for a protagonist I think I've ever seen; not only does she endanger and abandon her child numerous times during the final battle, but she's also totally prepared to sacrifice an innocent little girl in an attempt to sate the demon's hunger. And that's to say nothing of how she completely abandoned poor Peter Stormare at a crime scene for no reason (even though we know he's innocent, there's no way that someone who looks like Peter Stormare is found holding a bloody axe near a bunch of mutilated kids and gets away with a happy ending). This kind of character assassination is just a symptom of a much bigger problem that befalls so many great ideas; the filmmakers wrote themselves into a corner. They had this amazing idea about a man who slowly turns into an evil clown, but they had no idea how to end it. So the end result is just a series of flaccid, pointless sequences that feel like a hurried attempt to just end the movie without any loose ends. The plot ends up stretched paper thin and what was once a really engaging, original horror film ends up feeling like anything but.

I wanted so badly to like Clown. And in some ways, I really do; I like exactly two thirds of it. The final act is exactly the kind of shallow, poorly-written dreck I had hoped it wouldn't be. In its defense, I've seen far worse (and I'm willing to bet that out of all the independent killer-clown movies that have come out in the past 20 years, this is likely one of the absolute best), but it still stands that "not bad" is really the most Clown can aspire to. If you're looking for something that comes agonizingly close to joining such films as Trick R Treat and The Babadook in the realm of cult classics before nosediving back down into the land of inconsequential schlock, give Clown a look. For what it's worth, I had my fun with it, even if I don't really see myself revisiting it any time soon. All in all, it may be somewhat forgettable, but I'd be hard pressed to call it regrettable.

REVIEW: Wonder Woman

I think it's safe to say that the DCEU wasn't shaping up as well as anyone had hoped (least of all the executives at Warner Bros). While Marvel is pumping out three blockbusters a year (the majority of which range from excellent at best to forgettable at worst), DC's competing cinematic superhero franchise has been puttering by on a wing and a prayer ever since Green Lantern failed to get things going back in 2011. With the exception of The LEGO Batman Movie, each new film starring the iconic characters of Detective Comics has not only fallen short of expectations at the box office, but with critics as well (I even went so far as to name Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice one of the worst films of last year in my 2016 Retrospective). Even if these movies are critical disasters that fall short of projected earnings, however, they still manage to make just barely enough to keep projects like the standalone Black Adam movie alive and in the pipeline. Which brings us to this year's first release from the DCEU, Wonder Woman. I'm going to be perfectly honest; after so many disappointing entries in this series, I wasn't even entirely sure I would bother spending money to see this one, even after the improbably positive initial reception it got on Rotten Tomatoes. Keep in mind, this was a project that had been in development since the mid-90's. Even in its current state, the original director left over creative differences, the script was re-written several times, and the original cut was reported to have featured some severely lackluster editing decisions. And that's to say nothing of the exhausting, contrived, heavily-politicised squabbling that surrounded this film close to release (because God forbid we have a modern film that happens to feature a female protagonist without people trying to force it to fit their socio-political narrative). With all of this acting against it, it's nothing short of a miracle that Wonder Woman has turned out to be, without question, the best film in the DCEU so far. I understand that the bar wasn't set especially high to begin with, but trust me, this movie is a solid good time.

Told through flashback after the events of Dawn of Justice, Wonder Woman focuses on the origins of Princess Diana (Gal Gadot), heir to the throne of the Amazonian island of Themyscira. A race of proud, all-female warriors, the Amazons live a life of quiet seclusion, magically concealed from the outside world. This changes, however, after Captain Steve Trevor (an American spy played by Chris Pine) crash lands on Paradise Island while fleeing from German forces. Trevor informs the Amazons that the world is engaged in the war to end all wars (better known these days as World War I); as far as Diana is concerned, a conflict of this scale is clearly the work of Ares, the Greek god of war. Convinced that it is her duty to seek out and destroy Ares, Diana leaves her home on Themyscira to accompany Trevor to man's world, becoming the champion of peace, justice, and love known as Wonder Woman.

Part of what helps elevate this film above its peers is the unabashedly sincere tone it puts forward. Previous DCEU films have almost felt embarrassed by their source material; clearly, Superman is too stupid an idea for anyone to take seriously (despite over 75 years as a worldwide icon), so any film focused on him should become a dour slog full of ham-fisted religious allegory, lest audiences realize they're watching a movie about a spangly man who leaps tall buildings in a single bound. Even Marvel is guilty of this, to some extent; while entries like Guardians of the Galaxy manage to balance out comedy with genuine heart, too much levity can make a movie impossible to take seriously as a result (such is the case with Age of Ultron). It belays insecurity, on the filmmaker's part, in the property that is being adapted. It implies that the filmmaker isn't talented enough to maintain the tone of the source material with a straight face, making things more silly or dour in an attempt to distract from the fact that they're making movies about people who dress up as bats and talk to ants.

Wonder Woman's Patty Jenkins, as it were, has no compunctions about being sincere. While the tone ranges from serious to lighthearted, it is all played 100% straight; Wonder Woman isn't made the butt of any jokes for being a corny 70-year-old comic book hero who wears a magic tiara. At the same time, she isn't turned into a tortured soul who enjoys angstily pouting and waxing philosophic in the rain. Jenkins understands why the character has endured for so long and what makes her such an endearing, inspiring protagonist. This is Wonder Woman, champion of peace, hope, and love, teaming up with the Allied powers to put and end to the destructive conflict of World War I. It's been some time since I've seen a comic book movie that so strongly commits to that old-school superhero spirit, and boy have I missed it.

As I mentioned before, I was admittedly a little dubious of this film walking in, partially because the part of Wonder Woman would be played by Gal Gadot. Her appearance in Dawn of Justice left me thoroughly unimpressed and I was certain that, if there was indeed a low point of this movie, it would be Wonder Woman herself. As it turns out, I'm glad to report that those fears were entirely unfounded. Patty Jenkins displays an aptitude for conjuring excellent performances out of her actors, and Gadot's turn as the titular Amazon Princess here is no exception. While she doesn't necessarily give the best performance in the movie (which is forgivable, considering the supporting cast boasts talent such as Connie Nielsen, David Thewlis, and Robin Wright), Gal Gadot definitely does a respectable job of capturing the spirit of the character, showing marked improvement from when she last appeared in the DCEU. I've no doubt that, over time, she'll continue to grow and improve as she's been doing, making the role her own and becoming a modern icon in her own right.

Personally, the highlight of the film for me was Chris Pine's portrayal of Captain Trevor. He and Gadot share a superb chemistry (despite all the groan-inducing sexual innuendos), even though he tends to outshine her from time to time. Theirs is a surprisingly balanced relationship; they both learn from one another and help out in their own, unique ways. There are no damsels or flat love interests here, everyone pulls their own weight; no where is this more evident than in the spectacular No Man's Land sequence, which was by far the highlight of the entire film (at least in terms of action). I also really quite enjoyed Steve Trevor's gang of mercenary pals (Saïd Taghmaoui, Ewen Bremner, and Eugene Brave Rock); each one of them gets their own set of personality quirks, as well as a little moment of focus for characterization and growth. These are the kind of supporting protagonists who could have easily just amounted to nothing more than set dressing (such as the Howling Commandos in Captain America: The First Avenger), yet the movie cares enough to flesh them out for the sake of a more well-rounded ensemble. I've never seen any of these actors in anything before, but would love to see them in more.

That said, for as much as I enjoyed this movie, it isn't without its flaws. Early reports had mentioned how Wonder Woman struggled both in terms of pacing and editing. While much of this has been masked in post-production, it's still easy to see the proverbial scars these problems left on the film. There are times where things can feel a little uneven and disjointed; the first act feels very rushed at times (condensing multiple flashbacks, time-skips, and exposition dumps into the first ten minutes) and there are moments where it almost feels like some parts of the story are misplaced (for example, it's never made explicitly clear whether or not Diana is especially strong for an Amazon, or if her sisters are all capable of lifting a tank above their heads as well). These are minor nitpicks, but I still found them to be a bit distracting when they came up. It's a fairly good superhero origin story, but it is still a superhero origin story.

I also enjoyed the antagonists for the most part, but they too are not free from their share of problems and setbacks. Danny Huston's General Ludendorff feels like a character directly out of a classic Indiana Jones film and fits the tone quite well, even if he's not given anything particularly interesting to do. There's also Elena Anaya as Doctor Poison, a mad scientist who concocts deadly chemical weapons for the Germans. She was actually one of my favorite aspects of the entire film, as she's given a surprising amount of characterization and vulnerability that one wouldn't immediately expect from a secondary villain. Unfortunately, our final antagonist, Ares, is responsible for the absolute weakest part of the entire movie.

I'm not going to delve into spoilers here, but Ares is by far the worst aspect of an otherwise mostly solid film. Despite all the fun action sequences and genuinely compelling character growth we've seen thus far, it all comes down to a generic, poorly-telegraphed Red Herring twist and a final fight that devolves into two CGI ragdolls smacking into each other while surrounded by fire and rubble. Out of everything this movie gives us, this is the only part of it that feels totally generic. Despite a strong buildup and some legitimate emotional beats surrounding it, the final clash between Diana and Ares ends up feeling so routine that it almost becomes boring. Don't get me wrong, the pros most definitely still outweigh the cons overall, but that doesn't change the fact that Wonder Woman's climax represents exactly what the DCEU should be desperately trying to move away from; loud, stupid action with zero emotional weight or consequence. We end up caring far more about how Steve Trevor ends up saving the day than about Diana fulfilling her destiny, and that's truly the movie's greatest sin (even if it still manages to pull out of this supremely schlocky nosedive to deliver an appropriately bittersweet payoff). 

While it's not exactly perfect, Wonder Woman is still a thoroughly enjoyable comic book film; a shining example of what DC should strive for in future installations. Sure, movies like Supergirl, Punisher: War Zone, and Tank Girl have since stolen any "first female anything"-type accolades, but Wonder Woman holds the distinction of being the first theatrically-released, female-led, female-directed superhero film that is actually any good. Despite all of the nonsensical political turmoil that was whipped up before the film's release, the movie focuses on being a quality film first and foremost. It's a story that champions ideals such as hope, love, peace, and equality; while some painfully stupid individuals are sure to take issue with this, it doesn't change the fact that Wonder Woman is a movie that sets out to elevate itself above the petty squabbling of the internet. Wonder Woman hears you crying about clean-shaven armpits and women-only screenings and it doesn't care. There's a world that needs saving.