REVIEW: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse

2018 has certainly been a big year for Spider-Man, hasn't it? He's had a hit video game come out, his comics aren't bad for the first time in a good long while, and he DIED. Spider-Man (or rather, the entire concept of the character) is also the primary subject of Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, brought to us by the fine folks at Sony Animation and produced by Clone High progenitors, Phil Lord and Chris Miller. Naturally, anything with Lord and Miller involved is sure to get my attention (their involvement with Solo being the only reason I ever had even a passing interest in that movie), so I couldn't wait to see what they did with a character like Miles Morales, who has always felt like a wealth of untapped potential. While the end result didn't utterly blow me away, I think it's safe to say that Into the Spider-Verse is a strong contender for the best animated film of 2018 (or at the very least, the best animated superhero film of 2018).

The primary focus of the story, as mentioned before, is young Miles Morales (Shameik Moore); after acquiring spider-powers of his own and witnessing the untimely demise of his universe's Spider-Man (Chris Pine) at the hands of the villainous Kingpin (Liev Schreiber), Miles is left feeling woefully under-prepared in the face of the great responsibility that's been bestowed upon him. Fortunately for Miles, he's not the only Spider-person crawling around New York. As a result of Kingpin's experiments, alternate Spider-Men from alternate realities have been plucked from their home dimensions and deposited in Miles' version of NYC, including an older, washed-up Peter Parker (Jake Johnson). With the help of his reluctant new mentor, Miles must live up to Peter Parker's legacy, defeat the Kingpin, and find a way to save his new friends and, indeed, the world.

SPOILER ALERT: The remainder of this Review spoils key plot elements of Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse!

Really, the plot is my only major issue with this movie, in that it feels as though it can't decide whether it wants to be a Miles Morales origin story or an experimental dimension-blending crossover event. It tries to go for both, but in the process ends up spreading itself too thin in some regards, neglecting elements from both sides of the story. A good example is Miles' relationship with his Uncle Aaron (Mahershala Ali); the film establishes a promising dynamic between the two, with Aaron acting as a sort of outlet for all the aspects of Miles' personality that his father, Jefferson (Brian Tyree Henry), has trouble relating to. The only problem is that Miles and Aaron really only share two scenes together. Miles hangs out with him when he gets his spider-powers (honestly one of the best sequences in the movie), then Aaron is the Prowler for the rest of the film, and then he dies and that's that. It just feels like a missed opportunity for something grander that lives up to the intrigue established early on, and perhaps less focus on the alternate universe Spider-people would have freed up more time to devote to their relationship.

On the other side of the story, we have other characters who don't get near their due in the form of Spider-Man Noir (Nic Cage), Peni Parker (Kimiko Glen), and Spider-Ham (John Mulaney). All three are brought to life through some stunningly imaginative animation and perfectly cast voice acting, yet at the same time feel wholly under-utilized. These characters dominated the trailers, yet they altogether have very little impact on the plot, entering in at about the midway point in the story and sharing what felt like a collective thirty lines between the three of them. Visually-speaking, they bring a lot to the table, but contextually they felt more like a mere aesthetic device; really, that sums up my main issue with the movie as a whole. Part of me wonders if this wouldn't be a stronger overall product if the amount of Spider-Men was capped at just Miles, Peter, and Gwen (Hailee Steinfeld), or even just Miles and Peter for that matter. Gwen, despite a cool costume and elegant fighting style, has very little to do here, and it felt like the movie didn't explore the older, dumpier Peter Parker nearly as much as it should have. 

Peter Parker, as a fictional character, is almost always trapped in a state of arrested development; writers tend to hesitate letting Pete advance beyond the stage where he's still going to school or working part-time for the Daily Bugle. The average consumer knows Spider-Man as a teenager (or vaguely 20-something at the oldest), so that's what tends to sell, meaning we rarely see portrayals of Spider-Man advance past that point (and even when they manage to, a retcon sending him back to that tried and true "aw jeez I've gotta get to class on time but now THE RHINO is attacking!" formula is never far away). Spider-Verse's take on an older, jaded Peter Parker who's simply fought too long and lost too much is a truly unique take on the character, and the film's way of twisting this archetype we all know so well presents a lot of potential for emotional depth; he's buried his Aunt May, Mary Jane divorced him, his metabolism is catching up with him, and he's just left to be a sad, lonely man in a spider onesie whose best years are long behind him. He makes the conscious decision to sacrifice himself for the greater good, even after Miles shows up during the climax to save the day. This is a Peter Parker who is actively ready and willing to die in action, yet his emotional struggle is more or less glossed over despite it having a significant impact on the plot. It's an issue we get with the Kingpin as well; the film wastes no time in establishing Wilson Fisk as a physical threat (his massive, angular design inspired by Bill Sienkiewicz's Daredevil: Love and War) and Liev Schreiber does a great job channeling his inner mafioso, but all we really get in the way of motivation is a 30-second flashback in the middle of an action sequence. The tragic reveal of why Kingpin is messing around with inter-dimensional portals makes narrative sense and sets the stage for an emotional climax, but the film doesn't really do anything with this new information. When it finally comes time for Miles to face Kingpin on his own, it's a pretty straightforward superhero fight; good guy punches bad guy, bad guy almost beats good guy, good guy triumphs, courtesy your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

The real strength of this movie (aside from the stunning animation, more on that later), is when it outright revels in the new and original. One of my absolute favorite characters was Kathryn Hahn's surprise turn as a female Doctor Octopus; while it's not exactly a brand-new concept, it's little differences like these that help cement the idea that Miles' universe is a world of new and exciting spider-possibilities. This version of Doc Ock truly feels like a fresh addition to the pantheon of superhero movie antagonists, and especially to the limited pool of female bad guys (a group where, as far as Marvel is concerned, Hela and Ayesha are the only antagonists who aren't redeemed or relegated to the role of your average henchwoman). She isn't secretly insecure about her appearance and she doesn't get off easy with a heroic turn because she's more sensitive than her male cohorts in crime. She's just a mad scientist who's really into the idea of brutally murdering Spider-Man, and I'd love to see more female antagonists show this much unabashed enthusiasm in their work.

It's through details like this that Into the Spider-Verse truly shines. While I found the overall plot to be a little unbalanced, it's when the movie goes all-in on presenting us with something that we haven't seen before that it ascends to heights worth raving about. My primary criticism of the MCU's take on the wall-crawler is that, for as enthusiastic as Tom Holland's performance is, the way in which his stories are told belies a deep-seated misunderstanding of not only the character of Peter Parker, but the very concept of Spider-Man as a whole. There's no such issue present with Spider-Verse; this is a movie with a reverent love and understanding of what makes Spider-Man tick (regardless of who's under the mask) and why his stories and struggles and assorted adventures resonate so deeply with such a wide audience again and again, and it often takes risks in how it presents itself in order to convey that sense of understanding to the viewer.

The character of Miles isn't simply "inoffensively brown Peter Parker" here. They're two radically different people in radically different circumstances, the only connecting thread between them having been weaved by a radioactive spider. Spider-Man, as a concept, is all about a person (typically a younger person) being thrust against their will into extraordinary circumstances. The weight of the world is placed upon Spidey's shoulders and it's his responsibility to carry that weight so that the world may spin on. It's Young Protagonist 101, and the film doesn't harbor the delusion that a legacy character need be a 1:1 copy of the more iconic hero who preceded them in order to fill the same shoes. Miles' relationship with Jefferson and Aaron is very different from Peter's relationship with Uncle Ben, and while I felt it could have been fleshed out more in a few areas, it still managed to hit me right where I live in the same kind of way that "with great power, there must also come great responsibility" does. Brian Tyree Henry gives an amazing performance as Jeff and his dynamic with Miles is honestly strong enough to have carried an origin story all on its own. It speaks volumes about the quality of a story when the only major complaint I have is "I liked everything it gave me so much, I wish it was either longer or less jam-packed so it could give me even more".

Also, hey, not sure if you're aware of this, but the movie is absolutely downright stunning to look at. We truly are living in the renaissance of computer-generated animation, as Into the Spider-Verse looks so fantastic that Sony have attempted the ultimate scumbag move of trying to patent the animation style used in this movie. It's the kind of film I can't wait to watch on Blu-Ray, just to pick apart all of the background details (a billboard in Times Square advertising Clone College made me equal parts excited and sad). There's just loads of visual information packed into every frame. Parts of the background that, in a live-action film, would be out of focus are rendered to resemble the dye blur found in older comic books. Ben Day dots are all over the place and sound-effects are typically accompanied by animated onomatopoeia floating across the screen. After Miles gets bitten and his Spidey-Sense starts to tingle, his interior monologues begin appearing in yellow boxes near the top of the screen, complete with little wavy effect lines emanating from his head. I hesitate to use the phrase "a feast for the eyes" here, first and foremost because it's terribly cliché, but also because it honestly doesn't do the visuals here justice. The animation and shot composition are not only used as a means of giving this movie its own unique identity, but also to further the story; when Miles jumps off the side of a skyscraper during the "What's Up Danger" sequence, the camera is inverted. Because Miles isn't falling, he's rising. What Spider-Verse occasionally lacks in narrative cohesion, it more than makes up for in visual flair. It's a movie with so much evident care and thoughtful design oozing out of every pore that I simply can't not recommend it to everyone, dedicated Spider-fan or no.

While I'd still hesitate to call Into the Spider-Verse the greatest Spider-Man movie ever made, it's an easy lock for one of the top 3, and I absolutely wouldn't fault someone who put it at the very top of their personal list. It's not without its flaws (personally, the soundtrack felt very hit-or-miss at times), but as a piece of Spider-Man media, it's not hard at all to place this near the top of the stack. Now that the origin-story bloat is over and dealt with, I can't wait to see what the creative team behind this has in-store for the sequel; if the post-credits scene is any indication of where the plot is heading (which I hope it is, seeing as how it was easily my favorite post-credits stinger of 2018, possibly of all time), I'm beyond excited to see what the future will bring. Congratulations, Sony. You actually did good. Now don't screw this up. I mean... good luck.

REVIEW: The Favourite

It may be jumping the gun to say something like "Yorgos Lanthimos is one of my all-time favorite filmmakers" after only seeing two of his films, but... here we are. While I still have yet to see The Killing of a Sacred Deer or Dogtooth (they're on the list, alongside the rest of his filmography, I promise), The Lobster put him on my radar in a big way. When I heard that he would be directing The Favourite, I leapt at the opportunity to see one of his films in theaters. Again, it may be premature to say that he is one of my favorite filmmakers of all time (and indeed, one of the finest filmmakers working today), but saying the man is two for two in my books would be an understatement. I was excited to see what he had to offer with The Favourite and left the theater not only satisfied, but fairly confident that I had just seen the best film of 2018.

Set during the War of Spanish Succession right around the start of the 18th century, the film focuses on the tumultuous relationship between Queen Anne (Olivia Coleman) and her close adviser/secret lover, Sarah Churchill, the Duchess of Marlboro (Rachel Weisz). Ill and eccentric after a life of tragedy, Anne cares little for governing or warfare, delegating the majority of her decision-making to Sarah (much to the dismay of Earl Robert Harley (Nicolas Hoult) and his fellow Tories in Parliament). This all changes with the arrival of Abigail Hill (Emma Stone), a former lady of status and Sarah's younger cousin. Hoping that her connection to Sarah will allow her to gradually re-build her social standing, Abigail eventually begins to usurp her cousin's role as the Queen's favourite. What follows is a brutal, hilarious ballet of deception, blackmail, and wit as the two women vie for the affections of the ailing Queen (and all the privileges that come with it).

The most immediately striking thing about this film has got to be the performances. Everyone in the supporting cast does a fine job (shout-out to Horatio, the fastest duck in the city), but the main trio of women absolutely make this film. Olivia Coleman gives one of the best performances of the year as Queen Anne, playing the sickly monarch in a way that's as hilarious as it is multifaceted. She's damaged and crazy and unpredictable, but you never get the impression that she's nothing more than a punchline. She's very much an active player in the conflict between Abigail and Sarah, even if it doesn't appear as such at first glance. She's a character who could have been little more than a plot device, a living maguffin for Stone and Weisz to quarrel over and manipulate, but Coleman imbues her with a true sense of pathos; we get occasional glimpses into her world, revealing her to be a flawed, pitiable person who's suffered repeated and tremendous loss in her time as Queen. There's a strong undercurrent of mockery directed at aristocracy and the ruling class, but Anne is still primarily painted as a truly sympathetic character. "The Queen is crazy" isn't the fullest extent of the joke, as The Favourite goes for something a little more conceptually ambitious in how it deals with conflict and drama.

Nowhere is this more evident than in the relationship between Abigail and Sarah. I'm a big fan of movies that subvert audience expectations, when done properly. It's a tricky business to get right, and I always see people defending poor examples of subversion by insisting naysayers only want movies to break the mold in ways that they were already expecting (and therefore comfortable with). In reality, it's far from being so simple. Anyone can do something unexpected; I could write the rest of this Review in Mandarin, because surely you wouldn't normally expect that to happen, but doing so wouldn't give my work an inherent value for that reason alone. Well-crafted subversions of audience expectations serve to enhance the story, taking things in a new and exciting direction that adds a new dimension to the events playing out on-screen. This is something screenwriters Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara understood when crafting the characters that Stone and Weisz brought to life.

When we're introduced to Emma Stone's Abigail, she's a polite and filthy young girl, having just been shoved out of a moving carriage into the mud. It's a sharp contrast to Weisz's Lady Sarah; cold, manipulative, and at times downright cruel in her indifference towards the Queen's problems. It establishes a clear protagonist/antagonist situation with Queen Anne stuck in the middle. Abigail has been used and abused her entire life, robbed of her birthright and reduced to working as a scullery maid. She's a humble yet ambitious young lady who's found herself in a particularly low place in life through no fault of her own, so she's easy to root for at first. Meanwhile, Sarah enacts her will on the country by whispering in the Queen's ear and slipping into her bedchamber behind her husband's back, seemingly looking out for none but her own interests. At first glance, it all appears very cut and dry, but that's where the truly gripping elements of the plot come into play.

As the story progresses, we notice a gradual shift in character dynamics as more and more comes to light. We learn that, although she exploits her position as the Queen's favourite for personal gain, Sarah truly does care for Anne, both as a friend and lover. What on the surface appears to be a simple lust for power is eventually revealed to be a legitimate sense of duty; the Queen is far more concerned with playing with her rabbits than she is with waging war on the French, leaving Sarah with the responsibility of maintaining a nation. It's Sarah's dedication to the war effort that leaves her momentarily unavailable to stay by Anne's side, allowing Abigail the chance she needs to hook her claws into the sad and lonely Queen. What first appeared to be the story of an underdog hoping to improve her station in life soon becomes the tale of a malicious schemer, drunk on power and status, eventually resorting to truly abominable actions to ensure her position is secured. We really get to see a 360 view of this seemingly straightforward conflict, with first impressions dissolving before our very eyes as we learn more and more about who these characters actually are.

Of course, the actors aren't the only element of this film worth praising. As with The Lobster, Lanthimos exhibits his truly distinctive directorial eye, creating a style that compliments both the dry, comedic elements and the more serious, dramatic elements of this story. From a stylistic standpoint, the film is very unique without feeling as though it's trying too hard to stand out from the crowd. There's a real sense of creative confidence at play here; nothing is presented the way it is for a purely superficial reason, and you never lose the feeling that Lanthimos (along with cinematographer, Robbie Ryan) knew exactly what he was doing with every scene and shot.

The whole thing is shot on-location at Hatfield House in Hertfordshire, England, so nothing feels like a set. The spaces these characters inhabit feel appropriately lived-in, lending the whole thing a real air of authenticity (even though the actual historical accuracy of the plot is questionable at best). I admittedly found myself getting a lay of the land as the film went on, becoming very familiar with spaces such as the Queen's bedroom and the lush, well-kept grounds. The strong reliance on naturalistic lighting and use of classical music only adds to the authenticity, and that atmosphere of historical realism contrasts wonderfully with the dry, absurdist humor at play. It's a relationship summed up in a visual sense through the film's occasional use of a fish-eye lens, moving away from the many spacious wide-shots the film is littered with and portraying things from a warped, exaggerated perspective. It's like a metaphor for the presentation of the film as a whole; aesthetically, this is but one or two degrees away from your standard period drama, yet the dry sense of humor and use of visual comedy keep things skewed just enough to stand out from the herd, at least on a subconscious level.

Overall, I don't really have anything remotely negative to say about The Favourite. It's a hilarious comedy, a compelling drama, and a gorgeously-shot period piece all in one. Brought to life by a remarkably talented cast of actors all giving award-worthy performances and helmed by one of the most unique and talented directors working today, I can't very well think of a reason not to recommend this to just about anyone. I suppose, as with The Lobster, the unorthodox presentation may at times seem intimidating to those in search of something more by-the-numbers, but like The Lobster, I feel this is absolutely a film worth engaging with, even if it's outside of your typical comfort zone. I'd go as far to say it's a modern classic and absolutely can't recommend it enough, go check it out.

REVIEW: Aquaman

As I write this Review, James Wan's Aquaman has just blown past the $1 billion mark at the international box office. Aquaman. Even as a longtime fan of the comics, I can't exactly say I saw this coming. The DCEU has been chugging by on a wing and a prayer for years now, and while Wonder Woman earned the franchise enough good will to hold onto a glimmer of hope that the worst had long since passed, 2017's utterly abysmal Justice League tanked both critically and financially. Rumors swirled about Ben Affleck and Henry Cavill dropping out of the franchise for good, the upcoming Scorsese-produced Joker movie seemed to indicate that WB was pursuing other options, and we all had to wonder if Aquaman was merely a formality at this point; the last gasps of a dead franchise, pumped into theaters for no reason beyond recouping losses. I was excited to see one of my favorite superheroes (yes, seriously) portrayed on the big screen, but even I was apprehensive of what awaited me. One mind-numbingly long screening later and I found myself feeling something I seldom feel about many movies. Aquaman is by no means what I would call a "good" movie, and yet I had an absolute blast with it. It's flawed, bloated, and verges on being totally braindead at times, but there are also elements of this movie that I feel exemplify exactly what WB should aim to accomplish with future entries in the DCEU.

Set after the events of Justice League (let's not pretend that really matters, since the characters certainly don't), we find that Arthur Curry (Jason Momoa) has taken to superhero-ing like a fish to water, known throughout the seven seas (and his quiet hometown of Amnesty Bay) as the Aquaman. The son of a lighthouse keeper (Temuera Morrison) and the renegade Queen of Atlantis (Nicole Kidman), Curry has been reluctant to confront the wetter side of his heritage, believing the xenophobic Atlanteans to be responsible for the death of his mother. This all changes, however, after he is confronted by Princess Mera (Amber Heard, rocking one of the worst wigs this side of Spirit Halloween), who informs Arthur that his half-brother, King Orm (Patrick Wilson) intends to unite the seven undersea kingdoms and march on the surface world, establishing Atlantis' dominion over the entire planet. With the help of his mentor, Vulko (Willem Dafoe), Arthur joins Mera to locate the lost trident of King Atlan, usurp his brother's throne, and take his rightful place as the one true king of Atlantis.

Right off the bat, the movie suffers from a screenplay that toes the line between harmlessly campy and comically bad (which feels like something of a motif for 2018). While I was eventually able to adjust to the movie's cheese-factor, it doesn't change the fact that some of these lines feel like they were meant to be placeholders. The cast all do their best with what they've been given, but no actor could make a gem like "Your fish-ship has been marinating in chum-butter, I'm not coming out smelling like swamp butt" sound good. It doesn't help that we're stuck with this level of dialog for, as I mentioned, well over two hours. The plot essentially condenses the first three volumes of Geoff Johns' New52 run into a single story (which makes sense, seeing as how he has a story credit alongside James Wan and screenwriter Will Beall), so things naturally get more than a little crowded. You get the impression that WB assumed this would be their only shot at making an Aquaman movie, so very little is saved for the sequel. They put all their chips on the table and it more than paid off, so while this definitely doesn't feel like a bland corporate product, it definitely gets rather clunky here and there (especially during the first act). We get Arthur meeting Mera, contesting Ocean Master for the throne, reclaiming the lost trident of Atlan, and fighting Black Manta (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II), all in one movie. As a result, despite a reasonably brisk pace, the entire thing suffers from a distinct feeling of bloat. While I didn't necessarily dislike any of these storylines, I definitely would have been fine with cutting one or more in favor of saving it for the sequel; the end result is very much a concentrated dose of Aquaman, but it may prove a little too dense for anyone who isn't already a fan of the comics.

Aside from that, we have our two main leads played by Jason Momoa and Amber Heard. In my Review of Justice League, I said that they were by far the weakest links in the main cast, and the same holds true here. Don't get me wrong, they're both extraordinarily good-looking people with charisma to spare, but their relationship lacks chemistry (especially compared to, say, Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor) and their emotional range left me wanting, to say the least. The villains definitely steal the show, with Wilson and Abdul-Mateen cranking it up to 11 as Ocean Master and Black Manta. The cornball script and bombastic presentation only does these two favors, as we're treated to two separate scenes where our antagonists look right at the camera and proclaim, "CALL ME... *insert supervillain name here*!"; if that doesn't sound like the kind of thing you could get into, then I'd recommend giving the whole affair a pass right here and now. These are two comic book villains who make up for their apparent lack of depth with sheer screen presence, exemplifying just what makes James Wan's approach to this material stick the landing, despite its many flaws. Whereas other films may hesitate to embrace the over-the-top nature of adapting a superhero story to the big screen, Aquaman pulls its absurd, pulpy roots into a crushing bear-hug, splashing hefty doses of color and melodrama across the screen to remarkably fun effect.

I've noticed that many big-screen comic book adaptations (especially those found in the Marvel Cinematic Universe) are often more than a little hesitant to fully commit to the levels of absurdity found within the pages of its source material, using self-aware humor as a buffer to help sell the audience on something so seemingly childish. That isn't to say that I need my superhero movies to be dour and moody, there are definitely good ways to blend humor and intimate character drama, but there are definitely bad ways to go about it as well. If the film is constantly winking to me about how goofy the movie I'm watching is, it's only going to hurt itself in the long run. If the characters in the film don't take the situation, threat, or villain seriously, how can I, as the viewer, be expected to? This is where Aquaman uses its cheesy tone to its advantage; while this is a supremely weird, goofy movie with lots of fantastical locales and impractical costumes, the universe of the film takes itself entirely seriously. This is something the DCEU has attempted in the past, to disastrous results. Fortunately, James Wan is a talented enough filmmaker to not confuse a film taking itself seriously with being a joyless, dour slog.

This is a film that is fiercely committed to playing its role as a superhero movie, and there is zero cynicism to be found in how it approaches such a task. The tone very heavily reminds me of the Sam Raimi Spider-Man films; movies that were very intentionally made to be exaggerated, stylized, sometimes downright cartoonish action romps, yet never felt the need to justify that level of silliness to the audience by pretending it was "ironic" or "deconstructive". Aquaman wears its heart firmly on its sleeve, which I find somewhat refreshing in today's contemporary superhero scene. Its goal isn't to reinvent the wheel or get audiences to think Aquaman is a "realistic" portrayal of a superhero. The mission statement here is, without question, to entertain. And if I'm judging a film purely on how well it accomplishes the goals it has set for itself, I have no choice but to give Aquaman full marks. It's not very subtle or nuanced, there's a lot of terrible acting and dialog, and it's not at all conceptually ambitious in terms of displaying what a superhero movie can be in this modern age. But I was fiercely entertained, thanks very much in part to James Wan's talents as a director. 

There are countless other films that try to coast by on sheer spectacle and fail; Justice League is a prime example. For as messy and unrefined as aspects of Aquaman are, it at the very least feels like someone's vision, rather than a sanitized product that's been focus-tested and homogenized in an attempt to appeal to as many paying demographics as possible. And that's not to say that giving a director free reign to exercise their vision is a one-way ticket to success either; films like Batman V Superman and The Last Jedi prove that a filmmaker needs to understand and respect the subject they're working with in order to create something that, at the end of the day, isn't a frustrating chore to sit down and watch. This is something Aquaman definitely gets right, mixing goofball superhero aesthetics and melodrama with genuinely engaging direction and cinematography. It's not an exaggeration to say that the majority of this film takes place on a green screen, so when I'm praising the effects, you know it's something special. Atlantis feels like a fully realized world with countless depths worth exploring (in contrast to Black Panther's Wakanda, which felt like three soundstages and a grassy field) and there are loads of imaginative creature designs which give way to some truly spectacularly realized action setpieces (especially in the latter half of the film). There's a sequence later on in the second act involving the Trench, an ancient race of monstrous fish-people, that really exhibits Wan's talent as a horror filmmaker. Although clips from this scene made it into several of the trailers, they really don't do the sequence justice; it's clear from a quick visual gag in the beginning that he's a fan of H.P. Lovecraft, and this Trench sequence just makes me wonder how long I'm going to have to wait for an adaptation of The Shadow Over Innsmouth with James Wan in the director's chair.

While it's hardly what I'd call a groundbreaking success in the superhero genre, I simply can't hide the amount of fun I had with Aquaman. It's a movie with a myriad of problems holding it back from true greatness, yet it managed to keep me thoroughly entertained throughout its somewhat bloated runtime. There are glaring issues with the script, story, and performances, but there's such a distinct lack of cynicism here that I can't bring myself to hate it. This isn't a bad movie in the same way something like Batman V Superman or the Michael Bay Transformers films are, where the lack of quality comes off as insulting to the viewer. This is more akin to something like The Fate of the Furious, where you get the sense that everyone on set knew exactly what they were making; a bombastic, cartoonish spectacle that plays all of its candy-colored melodrama 100% straight. I caught myself groaning at the downright embarrassing dialog in the beginning, but then Black Manta shot Aquaman with an electric harpoon and said "I'm gonna gut you like the fish you are" and I realized this movie and I were, in a way, very much on the same page in regards to what an Aquaman film should be. The costumes are fantastic, the effects are impressive, and the last thirty minutes are pure visual opium. It's silly, it's stupid, and I had an absolute blast with it. If you're not a fan of superhero comics or prefer your cape stories to be a bit more on the low-key and serious side, there's little here that would be worth your time. But if you're a fan of the comics, nostalgic for a time when superheroes didn't have to be reimagined to make sense in the real world, Aquaman will definitely quench your thirst.