REVIEW: Hey Arnold! The Jungle Movie

It feels as though nostalgia is becoming more profitable now than it's ever been before. Sure, there was the boom of 50's throwbacks during the 80's, but it's nothing compared to the sheer amount of merchandise and soft-reboots we're seeing today. Social media is beginning to hold tremendous influence over the decisions of big-name companies, particularly in the realm of television. Over the past decade, we've seen revivals of everything from Toonami to Full House to Mystery Science Theater 3000. Hell, social media is objectively the reason why Deadpool even got made in the first place. The power of nostalgia and social media are not tools that studios should wield lightly, however; as we've seen, nostalgia-baiting only works when your heart is truly in it. When it's clear a revival was pushed through production simply in the name of making a quick buck, the results can be totally catastrophic, irreparably damaging a brand that is already, for all intents and purposes, dead. Which brings us to Nickelodeon's recent made-for-TV special, Hey Arnold! The Jungle Movie, a conclusion to the classic series that, much like its titular protagonist, shows the true power of effort, teamwork, and optimism in the face of less-than-stellar odds.

The movie picks up after the events of The Journal, a television special that aired back in 2002, acting as the finale of the series (despite ending on a cliffhanger). Series creator, Craig Bartlett, had always intended to release a follow-up film entitled Hey Arnold! The Jungle Movie; however, after the poor reception of Hey Arnold! The Movie and a series of complicated contract disputes at Nickelodeon, plans for the film were cancelled. In the years that followed, Bartlett would share a number of plot points and rough animation tests with fans, giving some idea of what The Jungle Movie could have been. Still, he never showed his full hand, citing his belief that, maybe someday, The Jungle Movie would see the light of day. Fifteen years later, Bartlett's optimism has finally paid off, and Hey Arnold! at long last receives the final send-off it deserved all along.

After entering a documentary contest, Arnold (Mason Vale Cotton) and his friends at P.S. 118 win a class trip to the South American country of San Lorenzo. Seeing as how this is the place where his long-lost parents disappeared to years ago, Arnold sees this as a golden opportunity to gain closure (and possibly even find them, assuming they're still alive). Once the class arrives in the jungle, however, it's clear that things aren't quite what they seem. What follows is a charming (if a bit predictable) adventure, packed to the brim with swashbuckling hijinks and a heartfelt amount of love and reverence for a Nicktoons classic.

As one might expect of a film that's been in the works for nearly two decades, there's a fair amount of hype Craig Bartlett and company had to live up to. However, living up to the hype isn't exactly the film's biggest obstacle, so much as it is living up to its full potential. I've heard from people in the animation industry that this was something of a rush-job; that Nickelodeon demanded a quick turnaround on a relatively light budget. If that's indeed true, then the effort on display is certainly admirable (the film looks exactly how Hey Arnold! should), but it's still very noticeable that a lot ended up on the cutting room floor. The end result is just under 90 minutes long, and while what's here is most definitely fun, I couldn't shake the feeling that this is something everyone involved would have much rather seen done as a full-length theatrical release.

That said, The Jungle Movie displays an adept understanding of that which eludes so many would-be revivals and remakes; it doesn't just look like Hey Arnold!, it feels like Hey Arnold!. Mainly because it is Hey Arnold!. The crew behind this includes people who worked on the original series back in the 90's, as well as newcomers who grew up with the original show as a staple of their childhood viewing. Factor in the frankly absurd amount of original voice actors who've returned (20 cast members reprising roles from over a decade ago, alongside 11 newcomers they've brought on-board) and it's plain to see that Hey Arnold! The Jungle Movie is very much a labor of love. This is something that the show's creator has been trying to make happen for nearly 20 years, and thanks to fan support, he's finally been able to do it. I wouldn't say the end result is perfect, but it's certainly the kind of thing I hope Craig Bartlett and company can be proud of. Sure, there are a few plot points that felt relatively toothless and silly, but that's the jaded, broken twenty-something in me talking. I can say with the utmost faith that, if this came out alongside The Journal back in 2002, I would have lost my mind. I would have recorded this on a blank VHS and watched it until I had the commercials memorized. I probably would have gotten together with some friends and had a viewing party, featuring pizza, 007 Nightfire, and a 2-liter of Pepsi Blue. This is how well The Jungle Movie recaptures the spirit of the original show (and indeed, that whole era of Nicktoons programming).

If there's one thing I hate whenever a television property is translated into a feature-film, it's the corners that are cut in order to appeal to a wider audience. Characters are simplified, references are dumbed down, and it feels like the filmmakers almost intentionally misrepresent the kind of minor details that are sure to raise the dander of longtime fans (I still wince whenever I watch The Simpsons Movie and see Moe's rebranded as "Moe's Bar", so as to spoonfeed context to casual moviegoers). The Jungle Movie has none of this. If I wasn't clear before, I'll reiterate; this may as well have come out in 2002. There's a few new voices, yes, and the animation is clearly made with modern technology, but this is, in every sense of the word, a new episode of Hey Arnold! that just happens to be 81 minutes long. There's numerous references to iconic episodes from the show (mainly in the first half, which, while fun, dragged a bit for my taste), but none of the callbacks feel cheap or self-fellating. When Curly (Nicolas Cantu) releases a caged panther with a cry of "FREE THE ANIMALS AT THE ZOO!", it doesn't feel like a condescending wink to the audience ("remember THIS episode where he said the thing?"); mainly because these characters are so in tune with the way we left them all those years ago, despite a few new additions to the voice cast. A revival is no good if you don't still have what made the original work; so many reboots fail to recognize this and assume they can bank on nothing but brand recognition alone. The result is often cheap, lazy, and soulless. Hey Arnold! The Jungle Movie is none of these, and all prospective reboot-ers should take note; this is how it's done.

In the end, was The Jungle Movie everything I wanted it to be? No, not quite. It feels a little rushed (despite sitting in development hell for a decade and a half), some plot elements are a little too simplistic and convenient for my taste, and it feels as though the made-for-TV budget really held this back from being all that it could be (at least considering what was originally planned). But then if it was up to me, this would be a two hour long theatrical release; that's just not how the business works, unfortunately. For what it is, Hey Arnold! The Jungle Movie is an admirable, genuine, satisfying conclusion to one of my favorite childhood television shows. It's nothing groundbreaking, but it feels good to have closure on this series after so long, especially when it's presented in such fine form. I've heard rumblings about The Jungle Movie serving as a jumping-off point for a complete revival of the series; I say, if Craig Bartlett and company are willing to give a new Arnold series the same level of care, attention, passion, and authenticity that they gave to this, then bring it on. 

Hey Arnold! stands out as one of the few cartoons of my childhood (alongside Spongebob) that wasn't preoccupied with being edgy or cynical (not that there's necessarily anything wrong with that, but I digress). Ol' Football Head is a pure, optimistic force for decency and human kindness; a kid who devoted his time every episode to solving problems, sometimes for his close friends, other times for people he just happened to meet on the street. Aside from being a funny, inventive, entertaining cartoon, it's a positive thing for kids to be exposed to, and it absolutely revels in that atmosphere that comes with early childhood, when life was all about treehouses and bicycles and ice cream trucks. If you grew up with Hey Arnold! like I did (or heck, maybe you've got kids of your own who watch it in syndication on TeenNick), I simply can't not recommend you check this out. It's a fun, enjoyable trip to what was, for many of us, a simpler time. And I think that's something special.

REVIEW: Over the Garden Wall

Where to even begin with this one? It's so hard to write about things we love unequivocally; there's so much here I want to talk about and praise that I can't pin down just one aspect to even get started with. I suppose I should explain what Over the Garden Wall even is, exactly. Back in 2013, a writer/storyboard artist named Patrick McHale created a short film that was meant to serve as the pilot to an animated series known as Tome of the Unknown. McHale, an alumni from The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack, had hoped to get the show picked up as a three-season series. Cartoon Network instead wanted a full-length animated movie. Eventually, the two met in the middle and Over the Garden Wall became the network's first ever miniseries when it premiered in November of 2014. I remember tuning in every night that week to catch each new chapter as it premiered; by the time it was over, I had made up my mind. Over the Garden Wall is not only one of my absolute favorite Cartoon Network productions, but one of my all-time favorite animated anythings ever.

The plot (which unfolds over 10 twelve-minute chapters) follows two brothers by the names of Wirt (Elijah Wood) and Greg (Collin Dean). We find them lost in a mysterious forest known as The Unknown, trying to make their way home; along the way, they encounter a number of colorful and absurd characters including a mysterious Woodsman (Christopher Lloyd) and a curmudgeonly bluebird named Beatrice (Melanie Lynskey). Each chapter tells a different short story that ties into their greater overall journey, taking them to strange and unique places within The Unknown. One chapter sees them stumbling upon a bizarre harvest festival, while another covers their journey on a riverboat operated by dapper frogs. Each episode is unique in terms of both content and visuals, yet none of it ever feels like filler; it all blends together to help create this imaginative, surreal, comforting-yet-slightly-spooky world of The Unknown.

A lot of people like to say that Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away is like a Japanese Alice in Wonderland. If that's the case, then Over the Garden Wall is like an American Spirited Away; not just in the sense that it's a tale about children lost in a bizarre fantasy land, but in terms of its quaint, inviting (yet at the same time, macabre and foreboding) atmosphere. It really is quintessential autumn-time viewing. The art direction was inspired primarily by illustrations from the late 1800's; the backgrounds have a distinctly painterly look, and warm fall colors are everywhere. Add in a smooth, jazzy folk soundtrack care of The Blasting Company, and you've got a winner on your hands. It really feels as though the creators boiled down autumn to its bare essence (feelings of growth and renewal, the interplay between quiet comfort and the creeping dread of the upcoming winter, a childlike sense of whimsy and nostalgia) and built the series' atmosphere, tone, and themes directly around these elements.

For something which premiered on contemporary Cartoon Network (where the most prevasive show by far is the hyper-spastic Teen Titans Go), Over the Garden Wall shows remarkable restraint and maturity in terms of not only its comedic sensibilities, but its themes and tone as well. If everything else on Cartoon Network is meant to be watched while vigorously downing bowl after bowl of sugary cereal, Over the Garden Wall is meant to be watched while quietly sipping a cup of tea, perhaps while bundled up underneath a nice, warm blanket. It's a very mellow, offbeat kind of show that doesn't go out of its way to make things "wacky" for the kids. It takes its time and focuses on building up the world, story, and characters moreso than establishing epic running gags to sell on Hot Topic merchandise. There's absurdity here, to be sure, but it all feels consistent and necessary, which is a huge reason why it works so well for all ages. Kids won't be bored and adults won't be irritated; this is, in every sense, something everyone can enjoy.

Despite its accessible nature, the series still deals in such themes as loss, maturity, lack of confidence, responsibility, and what it takes to develop a sense of self during our formative years. Wirt is an awkward, insecure, yet self-absorbed poet and hopeless romantic. He's caught right in that in-between, too old to properly connect with his kid brother, but too young to see his own immaturity. He, like so many teenagers, is hopelessly concerned with himself, wallowing in self-pity and adolescent wishy-washiness, and it's through his journey into The Unknown that truly helps him define the kind of person he wants to be. Greg is, comparatively, bursting with youthful optimism and whimsy, yet never once feels like an annoying baby brother to us. We understand Wirt's frustration, but we can also clearly understand all that Greg has to teach his older sibling about enjoying life and reconnecting with that upbeat spark of childhood sensibility that lies within us all. Speaking as a big brother myself, Wirt and Greg's relationship hit me right where I live in ways I never could have predicted. I'm not sure if this will resonate as much with everyone as it did with me, but I've yet to get through this series entirely dry-eyed.

Of course, a big deciding factor in the quality of a character is the quality of the performance, and boy does this series boast some serious talent. Elijah Wood is as great as one might expect, imbuing Wirt with just the right balance of self-righteous bravado and insecure wimpiness. We also have Collin Dean giving an incredibly genuine performance as Greg, truly capturing that sense of childlike obliviousness that makes the world look so incredible and inviting at a young age. There's a reason Greg is voiced by an actual child actor, rather than an older woman with a high-pitched voice. Meanwhile, Melanie Lynskey rounds out our main trio as Beatrice, bringing a strong "beleaguered older sister" type personality to the table, perfectly complimenting Greg and Wirt's individual brands of immaturity. 

Christopher Lloyd also appears as the Woodsman, rasping out a surprising amount of emotion for how little we see of him. I almost feel like this was my favorite character out of the entire thing, purely because we know so little about him; his story feels like an underlying thread that permeates the entire journey, just offstage. The rest of the supporting cast includes such personalities as John Cleese, Tim Curry, and more opera singers and jazz musicians than one would ever expect. It's a truly unique ensemble that just fits perfectly. Everything here just fits perfectly; there's no one who sounds too distracting, there's never a song that feels out-of-place, the characters and plot elements, for as absurd as they are, all feel homogeneous and at-home within the world of The Unknown. Over the Garden Wall knows exactly what it wants to do, and it does it with heart, enthusiasm, and style.

If it wasn't clear already, Over the Garden Wall is a modern-day masterpiece. It's a timeless coming-of-age fairy tale that is sure to remain a cult classic for years and years to come (even though it rightfully deserves so much more acclaim than that). The bizarre characters and surreal situations may prove a bit too eccentric for those who prefer their entertainment more conventional and easy-to-digest, but underneath all of the peculiar set dressing lies a story with a purely human soul. It's a true work of art and you would be remiss to not give it a watch, especially now, as the leaves change colors and a slight chill runs through the air. When feelings of childlike nostalgia and spiritual renewal wash over us all, and nature seems to call out, telling us to put on a jacket and come see what wonders and horrors await in the great, wide world.

REVIEW: Death Note (2017)

Death Note might just be the best comedy of 2017. It might sound like I'm joking or just being smarmy, but I simply refuse to believe that the impeccable sense of comedic timing in director Adam Wingard's direct-to-Netflix adaptation of the classic anime/manga series was nothing more than a happy accident. If you want to laugh, and I mean really laugh, then I can't recommend this movie enough. Stop reading, get a nice buzz going, and go watch it right now. If you're looking for a more true-to-the-source adaptation, however, well... I haven't seen or read the original Death Note, but something tells me it's less laugh-out-loud hilarious than what I just watched.

The plot follows the insufferably-named Light Turner (Nat Wolff), a bumbling moron who comes into the possession of a mysterious book known as the Death Note. As the book's keeper, the mysterious death god known as Ryuk (portrayed by Jason Lyles and voiced by the magnificent Willem Dafoe), explains, whosoever has their name written within the Note will die in whatever manner the writer chooses. Things start simply enough, with Light testing the book's capabilities on a school bully (and later the man who killed his mother), but soon escalate, as Light (along with his girlfriend, Mia, played by Margaret Qualley) begin enacting large-scale vigilante justice on terrorists, drug traffickers, and child molesters. Drunk off of their own power, the two hide behind the pseudonym "Kira", painting their school-shooter-esque antics as the work of a mysterious demigod. This attracts the attention of an enigmatic detective known only as L (Lakeith Stanfield), and thus begins a convoluted game of cat and mouse run by some of the most boldly idiotic characters ever written.

The most immediately striking thing about this film is probably the cast, for obvious reasons. In the original Death Note series, Light "Turner" was originally Light Yagami and his father "James" was originally named Soichiro. Really, the only thing that carried over from the original story was Ryuk, and surprise, he's by far the best thing here (though that's moreso due to how wonderful Willem Dafoe is than the obvious ties to the property's Eastern roots). There's been a lot of controversy and criticism surrounding this film, as it's been accused of "whitewashing" a foreign property. This film has a lot of problems, but changing the backdrop from Japan to Seattle is the least of them. It's essentially a non-issue here, especially since Japan does this sort of thing to Western properties literally all the time and no one seems to care. Death Note isn't hilariously bad because Light is played by a white guy or because L is portrayed by a black guy; no, Death Note is bad because the characters are cartoonishly incompetent, the tone is all over the place, and the plot (while a legitimately intriguing concept) thinks it's way smarter and more nuanced than it really is.

Let's start with the cast; Nat Wolff is simultaneously the best and worst thing about this movie. Light is an awful character, a hopeless idiot with a God complex who is way too eager to toy around with the Death Note, a plot device that may as well be made of red flags (seriously, the only way this object could be more of a bad omen is if it appeared to the tune of a Rod Serling monologue). At the same time, he's a major part of why the comedy (both intentional and unintentional) works as well as it does here. Wolff has a knack for over-exaggeration; everything he does, he does to the rafters. When he's meant to be scared, he shrieks like a little girl. When he's feeling edgy, he glares like Anthony Perkins at the end of Psycho. This is a movie that is meant to explore ideas like the frailty of human life and the moral quandry of using death to make the world a better place, yet Wolff treats the whole thing like a mid-90's Jim Carrey vehicle. Subtlety escapes him and the film is better off for it.

Then we have L, played by Lakeith Stanfield. He tries very hard to fill the role of "snarky oddball who is by far the smartest man in the room", yet just comes off like the only non-white kid at a high school anime club meeting. He provides an entirely different comedic angle than Light, rattling off pseudo-intellectual zingers like a preteen who just discovered internet memes and nihilism. He wears a hoodie and face mask that marketing execs might describe as "urban hacker chic" and, for reasons that escape me, perches on every chair he comes across like he's about to frog-splash the Fabulous Moolah at Summerslam. Every aspect of this character, from his appearance to his mannerisms, is meant to make us think "what a mysterious nonconformist", yet he just comes off like the kind of kid that would wear a trilby and cape to class. The kind of kid who claims to be "part of Anonymous" and buys all of his clothes at Hot Topic and Spencer's Gifts. You know exactly the kind of kid I'm talking about. L is that kid.

There's also Mia, a character who, as far as I can tell, is so different from her manga counterpart that she may as well be an original creation altogether. Margaret Qualley actually does a fairly decent job with what she's given, nicely selling that gradual shift from edgy high school girl to total psychopath. This character's issues all lie less within the performance and much moreso within the story; it's made very clear from early on that she's totally unhinged and should never be let anywhere near something as potentially dangerous as the Death Note, yet Light just keeps on trusting her again and again and again. Adolescent lust aside, to any young men reading this, take note; if a girl suggests you use a magical tome to murder your own father, she's probably bad news. You should dump her and cut off all communication, and you should definitely not let her continue using said evil book (that is, need I remind you all, capable of killing literally anyone the user desires).

The only legitimately good part of the cast is, you guessed it, Willem Dafoe as Ryuk. Aside from the base concept, this is the only part of this movie that works as intended; Dafoe is both menacing and mysterious and the film suffers for not giving him a bigger focus. He's not only the best actor performance-wise, he's the most interesting character. You could cut out Mia and L and have the majority of the character interactions be Light dealing with an invisible death god breathing down his neck, tempting him with great and terrible power, and I honestly believe the movie would be stronger for it. The special effects are also quite good for a low-spectacle Netflix release; Ryuk looks perfectly accurate to the source material and the gore is (as far as I can tell) more or less entirely practical. That's one genuine point I can give this movie, it uses its resources well. Ryuk is a great creature design, but he's also kept in shadow and/or out of focus, helping to sell the special effect while creating a sense of atmosphere. The movie stays within its means and understands what it has, so no part of it looks in any way cheap or unprofessional. The Dawson's Creek level cast and cinematography put a damper on things, sure, but for the most part this is a fine-looking mess of a movie.

At the end of the day, would I recommend Death Note? It's stupid, it's silly, and it's altogether an unnecessary cash-grab that really didn't need to be made. It's full of lofty ambitions and bloated subtext, all conveyed through some truly awful performances working off of a truly awful script. Would I recommend Death Note? Yes, absolutely. I know this movie is bad, I know I just tore it apart, and I know the phrase "so bad it's good" gets tossed around a lot these days; so many SyFy Originals aspire to that title, confusing ironic quality with a total lack of effort, but Death Note is one of those few bad movies that truly gets it. A movie doesn't get to be "so bad it's good" simply by being terrible. The viewer needs to feel a genuine sense of effort, that an attempt was made to make something good. The idea that a group of people legitimately tried their best, and this was the result. You have bad movies like Dragonball Evolution, that are bad because not a single person involved cared in any way, shape, or form. They're not "so bad they're good", they're so bad they're bad and the whole thing ends up being a painful experience for everyone involved. But when you get a movie like Death Note, a movie that is a complete and utter (and above all, genuine) mess, you can't help but laugh along at the magnificent failure taking place before you. Death Note is one of the funniest movies I've seen in recent memory and I foresee it becoming an enthusiastic go-to on many a bad movie night to come. By all means, go check it out.

REVIEW: The Spectacular Spider-Man

Everyone has experienced the kind of pain I'm about to share with you all. That hopeless longing for the one that got away; that one perfect show that was mercilessly struck down in its prime. Plotlines left unresolved, questions left unanswered, so much potential gone right down the drain. And even though it hurts to remember that such a great story is left without an ending, you keep coming back, again and again, because even though it's unfinished, it's just that good. Everyone has that one show; so what was her name? For me, it was a little cartoon by the name of The Spectacular Spider-Man. It premiered back in March of 2008, on the CW's Kids' WB block before moving to Disney XD after the Marvel acquisition of 2009 (more on that later).

It had been five years since the last animated Spider-Man show (MTV's more teen-oriented take, starring Neil Patrick Harris) and nearly a decade since the classic "spider blood, spider blood, radioactive spider blood" Spider-Man of the late 90's; the webhead was due for a return. Enter Greg Weisman, of Disney's Gargoyles fame. Together with his crew, they set out to make the definitive Spider-Man cartoon, blending elements from classic Lee/Romita/Ditko storylines with the contemporary works of the Ultimate universe. The end result is exactly what they were going for; this is, unquestionably, the best Spider-Man adaptation of all time. If you'll allow me to gush further, I'll be happy to explain why.

Internally, the series was referred to as "the education of Peter Parker", with episodes taking the name of subjects from highschool classes (the first arc, comprised of the episodes Survival of the Fittest, Interactions, and Natural Selection all fall under Biology 101, for example). This approach had a dual meaning, however, as the series not only follows Peter trying to learn and grow as a human being, but as a superhero as well. This is a Spider-Man who, despite his inherent cleverness and upstanding nature, still makes mistakes from time to time, some as simple as missing curfew, others as severe as indirectly giving rise to villains such as Electro and Venom. He's flawed, but he's not hopeless, we sympathize with Peter because he has more on his plate than anyone his age should be expected to handle. It's a classic element of the Spider-Man character and the show goes out of its way to throw us one emotional curveball after another, to the point that the more reserved character drama of Peter's highschool life can at times become more engaging than the slickly-animated action sequences.

The show manages to strike the perfect balance between fresh and innovative and the kind of classic storytelling one might expect from a Spider-Man show. There's a clear reverence for the source material, namely the old-school Amazing Spider-Man comics of the 60's and 70's, yet certain elements (such as the roles, personalities, and ethnicities of the supporting cast) are updated for the modern era, all while keeping the spirit of those classic comics very much alive. As the show's producers put it, "we tried to follow what we came to call "The Five Cs": Contemporary, Cohesive, Coherent, Classic and iConic." Through the benefit of hindsight, the showrunners were able to look back on the decades of Spider-Man stories and determine what was truly essential, boiling down the myriad interpretations of each and every character into their base essence. The result is a concentrated bomb of spider-goodness; despite the modern approach to these classic characters and scenarios, everything feels exactly as it should be. Seldom does an adaptation truly "get" its source material as well as with Spectacular; it's a show that prioritized understanding the tone and characterization of what it was working with, and the result is, well, spectacular.

That said, the show's strengths don't exclusively lie in the realm of engaging characters and plotlines. The art direction (care of Sean "Cheeks" Galloway) lends the show a very smooth, stylized art style that animates superbly well. Spider-Man feels far more lithe and flexible than he ever has before, so the moments where the action ramps up truly feel (as clichéd as this comparison is) like the panels of a comic book brought to life, full of energy and excitement. This is helped along by a superb vocal cast, namely Josh Keaton as Peter Parker. I may alienate some people when I say that Keaton is, without a doubt, the superior Spider-Man. As Kevin Conroy is to Batman, so is Josh Keaton to the webhead. His is a voice that will invade your head whenever you read a Spider-Man comic (or at the very least, one set during Peter's high school years). The rest of the cast is a veritable who's-who of voice acting talent; Clancy Brown, John DiMaggio, Lacey Chabert, Kevin Michael Richardson, Daran Norris, Ben Diskin, Steve Blum, and even the likes of Peter MacNicol, Robert Englund, Keith David, and Ed Asner. Each voice is utterly perfect, further cementing that original vision of making the definitive Spider-Man show. There's also the show's habit of constantly tossing hints and teasers at more comic-savvy viewers; frequently, villains will appear ahead of time in their civilian guise, doing whatever it is they do before the horrible accident that condemns them to a life of villainy. It's touches like these that really make the show feel alive, as though episodes don't necessarily start and end with the supremely catchy theme song. Even aside from being an amazing Spider-Man show, Spectacular ends up being an amazing show, period.

So what happened?

In December of 2009, the Walt Disney Company purchased Marvel Entertainment for the whopping sum of $4.24 billion. Given Marvel's (still to this day) tricky web of broadcasting and distribution rights among its myriad properties, the film and television rights for Spider-Man remained in the hands of Sony. Although Spectacular Spider-Man was critically-acclaimed and saw financial success through the sale of toys and home video releases, Sony relinquished the television rights to Spidey back to Marvel, in exchange for a hefty cash settlement. However, the specific rights to Spectacular remained with Sony, leaving either company unable to continue the series in any way, shape, or form. Disney would eventually go on to create their own Spider-Man cartoon in the form of Disney's Marvel's Ultimate Spider-Man, a disgustingly low-effort 20-minute toy commercial that served to do nothing but remind us what we had lost with Spectacular. 

As it stands, it seems as though the show will never again see any kind of continuation. Despite a strong cult following and the support of an enthusiastic crew, it's unlikely we'll see the likes of Spectacular Spider-Man ever again. Then again, Samurai Jack just wrapped up its fifth season after a twelve-year hiatus, and Young Justice (also from Weisman) is poised to return in 2018 on a new DC streaming platform; anything is possible. In the meantime, I highly recommend picking up the Blu-Ray box set of the complete series; unless a revival is seen as profitable, there's no reason for anyone, whether it be Sony or Disney, to go through the trouble of giving us a continuation. At the end of the day, we got less than half of what we were supposed to with Spectacular Spider-Man; the only upside of having so little time with this series is that 100% of it is pure quality. Some have compared this to Batman The Animated Series, saying it's nearly as good; I'd go as far to say it's even better, seeing as how Spectacular doesn't have a single episode like I've Got Batman in My Basement. The show starts out solid, but truly picks up once the Green Goblin is introduced in episode 7. From that point on, it's nothing but pure, unadulterated nirvana for Spider-Man fanatics like myself. Take it from me, if you consider yourself a fan of the wall-crawler in any capacity, there's exactly zero reasons not to seek this show out immediately. 'Nuff said!

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.

REVIEW: Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island

The 90's was a tremendous time for traditional animation. The Disney Renaissance was in full-swing, but it's also worth noting that it was an especially strong era for Warner Bros Animation as well. With television offerings like Animaniacs and Batman The Animated Series and films like The Iron Giant and Mask of the Phantasm, the studio had a lot to offer cartoon fanatics back in the day. For me, one of WB's most memorable productions was Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island, a direct-to-video film that premiered on Cartoon Network on Halloween night, 1998. Considering it's been years since I've watched my copy (naturally, recorded off the TV onto a blank VHS tape), I figured it was high-time I revisited the film that many credit with reviving this classic franchise from the clutches of Saturday morning stagnation.

As the story begins, the Mystery Inc. gang has given up the ghost and disbanded; Velma (B.J. Ward) runs her own book store, Shaggy and Scooby (Billy West and Scott Innes) are employed as bumbling customs agents, and Fred and Daphne (Frank Welker and Mary Kay Bergman) work together on a successful television show. As the production is about to embark on a road trip to investigate hauntings across the country, Fred is inspired to get the gang back together for old times' sake. The crew eventually find themselves in New Orleans, investigating a reportedly haunted plantation house on Moonscar Island, the former hideaway of a legendary pirate. Tales of mysterious disappearances and vengeful ghosts pique the gang's curiosity, but things take a turn when actual zombies begin to rise from the bayou; as the film's tagline says, "this time, the monsters are real!"

It's really a brilliant subversion of expectations; throughout the entire first half of the movie, the gang's skepticism is played through the roof. They question every remotely spooky thing they see, immediately searching for a projector or rubber mask. The idea of making the threat of a Scooby-Doo story genuinely supernatural is a stroke of genius; by packing the first two acts full of standard slapstick antics, it sets the stage for a major tonal shift once the zombies are revealed to be real. The first three-quarters of this movie are lighthearted and slow-moving, exactly what one would expect out of a Scooby-Doo film. There's lots of gags about Scooby chasing after cats and eating big sandwiches, almost to the point that it becomes tiring. However, this is all merely set dressing for the main event that is the climax.

I won't spoil the ending here, but it goes to some genuinely dark places. The movie starts and ends as classic Scooby-Doo, but the last twenty minutes in-between is essentially an animated horror film. The opening scene is an upbeat chase through a spooky castle as the gang is pursued by a swamp monster, while everything past the halfway point involves the honest-to-god rotting corpses of Confederate soldiers and pirates clawing their way out of the soil to limp after our protagonists. There are even some zombie tourists in there, implying that the Mystery Inc. gang aren't the first folks to stumble upon Moonscar Island and run afoul of the living dead. It honestly justifies the entire film all on its own; as corny as the tone was for the majority of the runtime, it all works in favor of subverting the audience's expectations and making that tonal shift hit that much harder.

I also can't praise the film's presentation enough; the animation was done by Japanese studio, Mook Animation (responsible for animating such works as SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron and Tiny Toon Adventures). Every scene taking place at night is full of heavy shadows that almost give things a stylized, hyper-realistic feel, as if we're watching a moving blacklight poster. I know the era of ink and paint is long gone (and that the upcoming S.C.O.O.B. will be computer animated), but I've always felt that this style was an ideal fit for Scooby and the gang, and would kill to see it used again in some capacity. Hanna-Barbera was not a studio known for its animation, so it's nice to see a property so ripe for spooky atmosphere done justice in terms of visuals. The 90's kid in me would also be remiss if I didn't mention the soundtrack, featuring original songs by Skycycle. Put simply, they shred. If you've never had It's Terror Time Again stuck in your head, then you've never seen this movie.

Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island is a fresh, original, well-animated entry in a franchise that is seldom known for being any of those things. It could be argued that the vast majority of entries into the Scooby series follows the "fake monster unmasked by meddling kids" formula; there are a few exceptions, of course (such as the more recent Mystery Inc. series), and Zombie Island is fortunately one of them. It's very much a film aimed at children, but the lighthearted beginning and middle work in service of a dark, exciting, and at times genuinely scary end. It's just over an hour long, so if you're a meddling kid with some free time on your hands, you really don't have any excuse not to check this out.

REVIEW: The Star Wars Holiday Special

The Star Wars Holiday Special is the kind of thing that honestly sounds like a joke the first time you hear of it. Why wouldn't there be a Star Wars Holiday Special? It's just a stupid enough idea that it has to be real; sure enough, in November of 1978, the world was introduced to Chewbacca's family by way of an utterly baffling television event that appears to be the product of every ounce of cocaine the decade had to offer.

The special operates around the framework of Chewbacca (Peter Mayhew) attempting to return home to his family on Kashyyyk for Life Day, a non-secular Wookiee holiday that can be marketed to Star Wars fans of all creeds and religions. While his wife, son, and father wait for Chewie to arrive, viewers are "treated" (I can't put enough quotation marks around that word, so I won't even try) to a number of variety show-style segments. There's an alien cooking show (hosted by Harvey Corman), an art-deco space circus, an android instructional video (hosted by Harvey Corman), a performance by The Jefferson Starship, a look inside the Mos Eisley Cantina (starring Bea Arthur, but featuring Harvey Corman), and many more. Each of these segments is about ten minutes longer than it has any right to be; this is saying something, considering most of these segments are about five minutes long. It's just such an awful premise. When one hears the phrase "Star Wars Holiday Special", a number of things come to mind (most of them completely idiotic). One would hope that, if this special positively needed to exist, the creators would take the absurd "He-Man and She-Ra" route. Something involving the cast of Star Wars all uttering the phrase "CHRISTMAS? WHAT'S THAT?", a plot where Darth Vader tries to stop Santa Claus from bringing joy to the galaxy, and maybe Han Solo ends up delivering presents in the Millennium Falcon; something that, while awful, is at least so absurd that it becomes entertaining. What we got instead basically amounts to "Wookiees watch directionless skits on various monitors with Art Carney for over 90 minutes, not including commercials".

It honestly makes you wonder, what kind of diseased mind came up with the segments found in this special? Who sat down with the intention of writing an entertaining comedy sketch for the whole family, only to end up with a sequence in which an elderly wookiee watches virtual reality porn starring Diahann Carroll? Or perhaps this was written by some unfortunate, yet altogether sane soul who was simply forced into a position of having to deliver a finished script, the first twenty or so pages consisting of nearly nothing but remixed animal noises? The mystery isn't why The Star Wars Holiday Special exists; Star Wars was (and still is) a cultural phenomenon. It makes perfect sense that such a profitable property would be milked dry in any way possible, no matter how ridiculous. No, the real question here is why did the people who made this decide to make it... like this?

Now to be completely and totally fair, I will say this; the special is not entirely without worth. Aside from satisfying my morbid curiosity and being generally fascinating in a horrifying, circus sideshow kind of way, there are a few bits here and there that I actually appreciated. First off is a cartoon animated by Canadian studio, Nelvana. While the short itself is nothing to write home about (considering it looks like a budget kids' show version of Heavy Metal), it's worth noting that it was this special which featured the totally canon first appearance of Boba Fett. To be frank, Boba Fett does way more in this shoddily animated short than in Empire or Jedi combined; while he's essentially reduced to the role of a Saturday-morning villain of the day, it's fascinating to think that one of the most popular Star Wars characters of all time got his start in something as ridiculous and infamous as this special.

If I had to name a part of this special that isn't quite as awful as every other part, I'd definitely have to go with the segment taking place in the cantina in Mos Eisley. Bea Arthur appears as the gruff, singing bartender who serenades her drunken patrons after the Empire imposes an immediate curfew on the entire planet. The only reason the bit works at all is directly due to Bea Arthur herself; it seems that she and Harvey Corman are the only people actually trying here. For most of her screentime, she's working off of extras in mute, emotionless alien costumes. It's like a bizarre one-woman show that actually manages to be somewhat engaging and heartwarming, all because Bea Arthur is just giving it her all. I think it's important to let what I've just said sink in for a moment; out of all the segments in The Star Wars Holiday Special, the best moment is the Bea Arthur musical number with all the puppets. If a Bea Arthur musical number is the best thing your special has to offer, it's probably a reasonable idea to scrap everything and start over. Or just scrap everything and never try anything remotely like this ever again.

With all this talk of wookiees and Bea Arthur and Harvey Corman, one would be forgiven for forgetting that the actual stars of Star Wars make appearances here. We have Mark Hamill as Luke Skywalker (obviously recovering from his tragic car accident, as he's positively caked in makeup), Carrie Fisher as Princess Leia (who appears to be riding high on literally every illicit substance under the sun), and Harrison Ford as Han Solo (who really wishes he was anywhere else). Peter Mayhew, Anthony Daniels, and Kenny Baker appear as Chewbacca, C-3PO, and R2-D2 as well, and I feel as though the only reason we can't see their shame is because they are for the most part obscured by their costumes (though there is a legitimate kind of sadness to be found in Mayhew's eyes).

The Star Wars Holiday Special is a genuine curiosity to me. It's objectively terrible in every way, yet I can't not recommend it. It's just too insane, something that must truly be seen to be believed. It's the television equivalent of those Silver Age comic books where Superman fights Mohammad Ali; someone decided that there was money to be made, so common sense was thrown clean out the window. It's just so mind-bendingly stupid, to the point that it's almost kind of amazing. If you consider yourself a real Star Wars fan, you owe it to yourself to mix up a strong glass of eggnog and give this baffling, confusing, absurd thing a watch at least once.

REVIEW: Kung Fury

Despite being born in the mid-90's, I've always had a real fondness for the media that came from the 1980's. Even though I wasn't born then, I was raised on movies like The Goonies and games like Duck Hunt; it was the kind of stuff that shaped the older, cooler people I knew, and therefore carried a sort of mystique that pushed me to explore things that were released before I was born. With my love of the 80's, I was naturally very excited for Kung Fury, a Swedish spoof that was funded entirely by Kickstarter and released earlier this year. The trailer looked promising and the 80's as a decade is so thoroughly ripe for comedic fodder; it's a period of time with near universal recognizability and appeal. It seems like the kind of project that would be almost impossible to botch, but Kung Fury somehow found a way to be bland, boring, and unfunny all at the same time.

Taking place in the year 1985, the plot follows the titular Kung Fury (David Sandberg), a Miami police officer with kung-fu superpowers. After a time-traveling Adolf Hitler (The Lonely Island's Jorma Taccone) attacks his precinct, Kung Fury enlists the help of the appropriately named Hackerman (Leopold Nilsson) to send him back in time. Once he is accidentally sent too far back, Kung Fury finds himself adventuring across time itself to accomplish the objectively noble goal of stopping Hitler. If that sounds like the kind of plot that was entirely developed over the course of an afternoon, that's because that's exactly the kind of plot it feels like too. Kung Fury is by far the shortest movie I've ever watched for this blog, clocking in at just over thirty minutes; I'm almost grateful for this, since I don't think I could have taken an extra hour of what little Kung Fury has to offer. This is an over-the-top parody with barely any real, genuine humor. There's some tongue-in-cheek puns and a lot of absurd action, but rarely is there ever an actual joke with a set-up and a payoff; instead, we get a lot of visual cues and references that I think are meant to be funny, but which I didn't laugh at once. If you decide to watch this movie, I hope you like dinosaurs, because Kung Fury seems to find them inherently hilarious for some reason.

These sort of "non-jokes" rarely pay off in any way; the only one I found even mildly amusing was Hitler's first appearance, in which he shoots a person through a cell phone. The only reason this joke works at all is because it is stolen whole-sale from Danger 5, an acclaimed Australian show about a team of international spies attempting to thwart Adolf Hitler. Plagiarism aside, this movie comes off as something that a bunch of people who have never watched an 80's action flick assume the 80's was like. It's a parody of a parody of the 80's and ends up being too ridiculous for its own good, to the point that it assumes a bunch of absurd, flashy visuals can stand in for humor. The whole thing is like an R-rated farce targeted at 12-year olds; there's swearing and yelling and comical gore, but that's literally as deep as any of the jokes go. Random humor can work well if used sparingly by talented people, but Kung Fury is nothing aside from neon fart-huffing from beginning to end.

It's the kind of movie that completely, 100% banks on the punchline being "the 80's", yet it barely has any connection to the era that it's supposedly lampooning. Yes, there's shots where we see a DeLorean and a character wears a Nintendo Power Glove and David Hasselhoff appears in an utterly cringe-worthy Knight Rider-esque cameo, but the main influences for the majority of this film seem to come from Streets of Rage (1991), Mortal Kombat (1992), and Jurassic Park (1993). It's not as if the 80's is an era lacking in subject matter to lampoon in an over-the-top action farce. Black Dynamite is a similar film that, unlike Kung Fury, actually worked because, while it was over-the-top, it kept itself rooted in the era and aesthetic it was trying to capture and portray. Kung Fury is just too all over the place; the jokes, plot, and set-up to the entire film more or less amount to "someone wacky does something wacky". There's a moment where the main character is attacked by a "laser-raptor". It's very clear that this is meant to generate a big laugh, despite there being no joke aside from the idea of a laser-raptor being more than a little ridiculous. It's random, sure, but it's not a joke. There's no finesse, no substance, and no cleverness to it, which is coincidentally a statement that more or less sums up Kung Fury as a whole.

While I admit that the visuals are honestly very impressive given the budget, and the fact that this film was made entirely through crowdfunding is an accomplishment in and of itself, it still stands that Kung Fury plays like a failed viral video made by the self-appointed nerdy/funny guy in a college screenwriting class. The jokes are either utterly cringe-inducing or nonexistant, the pacing is roughly equivalent to a candy wrapper that's been swept up by a raging river, and the entire thing is like watching a community theater troupe act out the cutscenes to Far Cry: Blood Dragon (only the cutscenes are no longer funny and you don't get to play a cool game afterwards). Kung Fury represents the 80's the way Panda Express represents Cantonese cuisine; it's all style and absolutely no substance and the only way I could see myself enjoying this is if I was twelve and easily amused by internet memes. This is the part where I'd say something like, "if you enjoy X, you should watch Kung Fury", except there's no real reason to watch Kung Fury. It's not even really entertainingly bad, it's more just a crummy way to waste a half an hour. If you really need a fix of over-the-top 80's action, go play Double Dragon Neon; I guarantee it'll be a better use of your time.