2017 End of the Year Retrospective Extravaganza!

365 days later (give or take a week or so) and here we are once again. The new year is, traditionally speaking, a time when we look back and reflect on what we've accomplished. A time of hellacious binge-drinking and brutal hangovers, of ill-fated gym memberships that collect dust after the first week and celebrity death pools that are never quite as entertaining as they seem on New Year's Day. And naturally, if you're anything like me, the new year is the time when everyone comes together to fight it out over which movies represented the best (or worst) the past year had to offer. 

If I'm being real, I feel like 2017 was a pretty damn good year for movies (despite a few obvious low-points); there was certainly a lot to talk about in the realm of cinema, so before I get to my rankings, I think it'd be best to reiterate some ground rules:

• I don't get paid to do this blog. It's purely a hobby of mine and a lack of both time and finances prevents me from seeing everything that comes out in a given year. By no means should you expect anything professional or definitive; the opinions expressed here are purely my own, so take them with how ever many grains of salt suits your fancy.
• Not every movie I discuss here has to have come out in 2017; this is a look back on my year, specifically on the movies I watched in 2017.
• I'm only featuring things I've watched for the first time. That means nothing like Spectacular Spider-Man or Prince of Egypt (though they may receive an Honorable Mention at the end).

So without further ado, let's get right to it!

The Haruo Nakajima Award for Most Fun Monster Movies I Watched in 2017

We lost a lot of talented people in 2017, one of the most underrated being Haruo Nakajima, the original suit actor for the Godzilla movies (as well as countless other kaiju films of the 50's, 60's, and 70's). However, we also got two tremendously enjoyable giant monster movies this past year in the form of Shin Godzilla and Kong: Skull Island. It does my heart good to see these kinds of larger-than-life creature features making a comeback in such a big way, especially when they're done with so much care. Shin Godzilla was a stellar return to form for the king of the monsters, yet it still managed to innovate in so many important ways. It's not often that my reaction to the last shot of a movie is "WAIT, WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?", but I sure wish it would happen more often. Meanwhile, Kong: Skull Island was simply a blast, a monster romp that knew exactly what it wanted to be and exactly what it wanted to do. Inspired by everything from Apocalypse Now to Princess Mononoke, it's a prime example of how much a little care, effort, and imagination can bolster a project that, in less passionate hands, could have turned out totally unremarkable. I feel like these movies didn't really set the world on fire with mainstream audiences, but they both represent the kind of commitment to vision that I'd like to see out of more big-budget blockbusters moving forward.

The Spooky-Scary Award for Best Horror I Watched All Year

Horror is, without question, easily one of my favorite genres. Rarely do I find a pair of horror films (back-to-back, no less) of such quality as The VVitch and Get Out. These are two of my absolute favorite films I watched this entire year, films that I plan to enthusiastically revisit time and time again in the future. The VVitch is a positively stunning effort for a first-time director. Low-key and slowly paced, it's not exactly in line with the majority of modern horror films. Jump scares and obnoxious musical stings are replaced with a genuine atmosphere of creeping, natural dread that stuck with me well after the credits stopped rolling. Make no mistake, this is a masterpiece in the same league as The Shining and The Exorcist, and I honestly have no idea how Robert Eggers expects to top it (though he has my sympathies). Get Out, meanwhile, definitely errs more on the side of satire and outright comedy than pure horror, but it was still a very clever, well-crafted, and effective film. Jordan Peele's sense of subtlety and foreshadowing is the rich glue that makes this film such a blast (especially on repeat viewings). It feels like a loving throwback to things like The Twilight Zone and They Live, wrapped up in an eternally topical bundle of modern sensibilities. I simply can't recommend either of these enough; they represent so many of the things I love about the horror genre and I hope to see more from both Eggers and Peele in the future.

The Awesome Mix Award for Best Use of Established Music in 2017

After the first Guardians of the Galaxy took the box office by storm with its "bombastic action sequences set to pop music" approach back in the summer of 2014, it seems like every blockbuster under the sun is out to give it a try (though some are far less successful than others). Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 and Baby Driver show how to use this stylistic trick the right way. Anyone can slap a popular song over a given sequence without any finesse or nuance, but that doesn't mean it'll work. Why was Fortunate Son playing when we were introduced to Killer Croc? Was the implication that he served in Vietnam? When music is added to a sequence with no rhyme or reason, it comes off as totally shallow; as though the filmmakers are banking on the audience dully exclaiming "HEY, I KNOW THAT SONG" before declaring it the best movie of the year. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 and Baby Driver are two films that make it extremely evident that a lot of care and discretion was used when making selections for the soundtrack. The Brandy sequence in Guardians (between Kurt Russell and Chris Pratt) is the first breadcrumb James Gunn gives us, illustrating the parallels between the soundtrack and the events of the plot. After some investigation, the true genius of the film begins to reveal itself (such as how the opening sequence, set to ELO's Mr. Blue Sky, foreshadows the climax). Meanwhile, the visual flair Edgar Wright uses in tandem with the sound design of Baby Driver is just something to behold; watch the opening sequence a few times and see if you can't pick up on all the extraordinarily subtle details in the background and dialog (spoiler alert, it's going to take a good couple viewings to even spot most of them). These are two films that take what many use as nothing more than a cheap gimmick and turn it into a multi-sensory experience; when filmmakers put this kind of thought, care, and hard work into these subtle details, the end result is all the more satisfying to watch. Take note, this is how it's done.

The Hugh Mungous Award for Most Pointless Controversy

I'd hoped we could leave all the endless internet slap-fighting over garbage that doesn't matter in 2016 with the bombed-out corpse of the Ghostbusters remake, but alas, 2017 was no stranger to pointless controversy and squabbling either. Despite enjoying Patty Jenkins' sincere take on an iconic superhero with Wonder Woman, the lead-up to the film's release was so intolerable that I actually added "wonder woman" to my list of blocked keywords on Twitter. First we had complaints about Gal Gadot's hairless armpits and the news that the Alamo Drafthouse planned to host woman-only screenings during the opening weekend. We saw Wonder Woman symbolically inducted into the UN as an ambassador for peace and women's rights, only to have that title revoked for being conventionally-attractive and white. Then the film came out and we had to endure the sour grapes of countless critics who championed Wonder Woman as the most important film of 2017, only to find themselves disappointed by the heterosexual romance and lack of misandry. It was an absolute mess; all of this anger and vitriol over a totally okay superhero movie marketed to children. Similarly, we have the eternally divisive fan reactions to Star Wars: The Last Jedi. Some fans proudly declared "NOT MUH LUKE" and labelled the film as (somehow) worse than the prequels. Others displayed such a fanatical devotion to this flawed, messy sequel that it's a wonder Jedi haven't emerged as a real-world extremist group. Either you're a Disney shill who's been paid off by the Mouse, or you're an unapologetic racist who "just didn't get it". Both sides are pathetic, both sides are wrong, both sides need to stay in 2017, because I will be damned if I have to go through this all again when Black Panther comes out next month.

The Poochy Award for Plot Points 

That Died on the Way Back to Their Home Planets

One of the biggest problems with building films around the framework of a cinematic universe is the danger that not every detail will eventually carry over into anything that matters. We watched Age of Ultron all but ignore the character development present in Iron Man 3 and Captain American: The Winter Soldier; this is the price of attempting to tell a long-form narrative between dozens of different creative teams, generating a clash between studio direction and artistic intent. Sometimes, however, it's not entirely the studio's fault. Sometimes a a bad idea is just a bad idea; such is the case with Spider-Man Homecoming's Michelle (played by Zendaya). This character almost made Homecoming a shoe-in for Most Pointless Controversy, but it just missed out for the simple fact that, in 10 years, I'm willing to bet people will still be arguing about The Last Jedi; not a soul will have anything to say about the character of Michelle. She was used exclusively to drum up clickbait drama before the release of the film, only to amount to barely more than nothing. We get a quick gag in which she mentions that her friends call her "MJ" and that's it. Based off of Kevin Feige's explanation, I wouldn't be surprised if this character was nothing more than a stress test to see what the studio could get away with from a stunt-marketing standpoint. Michelle was hardly the breakout star of Homecoming, so I doubt we'll be seeing "MJ" in any kind of major capacity down the line (especially since Gwen Stacy has already been confirmed for the sequel). On the other hand, we have Justice League. As in, all of it. The entirety of Justice League is, as far as I'm concerned, dead-on-arrival at this point, it's absolutely pitiful how little public faith WB appears to have in their own franchise. We can't officially declare it until Aquaman comes out (since that's been in active production for a while), but the writing is on the wall. The days of the DCEU (at least, in its current iteration) are numbered. With the Flashpoint movie around the corner, I wouldn't be surprised if major parts of this cinematic universe are retconned out of existence, with a number of major roles recast in favor of actors who are much less expensive and emotionally broken than Ben Affleck (and that's assuming WB doesn't just cut their losses and reboot the entire miserable mess a few years from now).

The Unpoppable Bubble Award for Best Superhero Stuff of 2017

On a more positive (yet still superhero-themed) note, we have my absolute favorite comic book films to come out in 2017, Logan and Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2. Tonal opposites, perhaps, but these are the two superhero movies that, I feel, exemplify that the genre still has more to offer beyond firing blue beams into the sky. I never thought I would be one of those suffering from superhero fatigue, yet here we are. My excitement for Infinity War, a film I've literally been waiting a decade for, is lukewarm at best. I didn't even bother watching The Defenders. Hell, I didn't even bother watching The Punisher. I haven't even seen the trailer for season 2 of Jessica Jones. It's all just becoming too much, we've eaten so much delicious Marvel-branded candy that we've become sick of it. It dawned on me around the time I saw Baby Driver that it was the first film I had seen in the theaters in 2017 that wasn't a comic book adaptation, a sequel, or a sequel to a comic book adaptation. But whenever the looming death of cinema gets me down, I take comfort in knowing that all is not lost; we can still get genuinely effective, well-made films out of this blockbuster fad. Both Logan and Guardians made enough of an emotional impact on me that I still think about them to this day. If you're like me and harbor the occasional fear that the MCU is slowly revealing itself as the outcome of a monkey's paw wish, give these two a look. There are still stories to be told, but it takes a talented filmmaker (like James Gunn and James Mangold) to make them into stories worth telling.

The Bill Finger (Not Bob Kane) Award for 

the Only Good Film of 2017 to Feature Batman

This is the only category on this Retrospective with only one winner, simply because I find it so insane that, out of all of the DC movies featuring Batman to come out in 2017, the best one was the animated comedy where the caped crusader is portrayed by a plastic building toy and voiced by Gob from Arrested Development. The LEGO Batman Movie is many things. It's a heartwarming family film, a hilarious comedy, and a gorgeously-put-together display of computer animation. Above all else, it's also the best portrayal of Batman and pals since The Dark Knight. There's something about that fact that I find hilarious in a cosmic sort of way. If you went back in time to 2007 and told everyone "ten years from now, a movie about Batman LEGO sets is going to be way better than a movie about the Justice League", not a soul would believe you. Hell, they probably wouldn't believe that a LEGO Batman movie would even exist. Yet here we are. It's a grand old time and, aside from most of the first two acts of Wonder Woman, it was the only bit of mercy WB decided to show us DC fans in 2017. Here's hoping with Aquaman and Batman Ninja coming out later this year that 2018 is a damn sight better.

The Martyr Award for the Worst Things I Made Myself Watch This Year

You know, this was supposed to be fun. When I put this blog together, I thought "huh, well if I only watch stuff that looks interesting, there'll be way too many positive reviews, and things will get boring, so I should watch some really terrible stuff every month, just to mix it up!" What an idealistic fool I was. But now it's tradition, so I can't escape it. I bet you thought Ivan the Incredible was gonna be here, didn't you? Surprise, for as horrid as that was, at least there was a sort of mean-spirited entertainment one could get out of it. It wasn't a good trip by any means, but man was it a trip. Dragonball: Evolution and Jurassic School, on the other hand, represent everything I hate to see in film. There's something to be said in defense of movies that are so bad they're good (more on that later), but I can't abide laziness. Both of these are just such boring, bland, cynical cash-grabs; if I had to say anything nice about either of them, I feel like Dragonball has the potential to be a blast with the proper company and potent enough refreshments. Jurassic School is just hopeless, such a gross scam of a movie that it actually makes me angry. This blog is something I look forward to making each week, but it's movies like these that really put me through my paces, so I guess I've at least got that to be grateful for.

The "And I've Got the Ticket Stubs to Prove It" Award for Worst Movies of 2017

Like I said at the start of all this, 2017 was (all things considered) a damn good year for movies. That said, even the best year isn't exempt from its low points; and my God, where these some low points. Alien: Covenant is the latest in the exciting saga of me gradually losing any and all faith in Ridley Scott as a filmmaker. It feels like Scott only learned the most superficial of lessons from Prometheus; RedLetterMedia wants to know what the black goo was? Let us explain! People were upset there was no xenomorph? Here's the cheapest-looking, least exciting xenomorph in the history of the franchise for exactly the last 20 minutes of the film! Everyone says the scientists acted like idiots? Well now they're not scientists anymore, so they can be as stupid, shortsighted, and incompetent as the plot requires! It's seriously an insultingly stupid movie; it doesn't feel as insufferably full of itself as Prometheus and Michael Fassbender continues to prove himself one of the finest actors of our time, but there's only so much that can be done to salvage such a broken concept. And there's still two more sequels on the way. Meanwhile, we also have DC making their second-annual appearance in the Worst Of category with Batman and Harley Quinn, an animated abomination so heinous that I had to get a buzz going just to finish it. I honestly feel bad about lumping Covenant in with something as horrendous as Batman and Harley Quinn; there's a fair power gap between the two. At least Covenant, braindead as it is, has a handful of decent ideas that it occasionally executes in a serviceable way; that's infinitely more than I can say about Batman and Harley Quinn. To be totally transparent, the title of this category is a bit of a misnomer, in that I didn't even pay to watch Batman and Harley Quinn. Despite this, I still want my money back. It's bad.

The "So-Bad-It's-Good" Award for Guiltiest Pleasure of the Year

There's something really special about finding a movie that's legitimately worthy of the title "so bad it's good". You can't get that kind of magic with a movie that goes out of its way to be bad; if it's sincere and it's entertaining, the end result is often something sincerely entertaining. I was so surprised to see just how many people behind Netflix's westernized adaptation of Death Note legitimately believed in it; the idea of taking a famous anime property and setting it in an American high school is riddled with red flags for a reason (just ask Dragonball: Evolution). But the end result is something so hilariously entertaining, I just can't hate it. It's got everything one could want; an interesting concept wasted on a nonsensical story, laughably over-the-top performances (complete with melodramatic monologues), absurd choices in music, and Willem DaFoe. Death Note may have been the film I recommended most to people in 2017 and I'm not even joking; that's how funny it is. Meanwhile, we have another film that I did not expect to enjoy as much as I did. This one came right at the end of the year when I was positively swamped with Reviews, so it didn't get it's own blog post. Here's the jist of Fate of the Furious, the first Fast and The Furious film I've ever seen; Vin Diesel starts committing crimes for Charlize Theron and Tormund Giantsbane with his car, so Kurt Russell recruits The Rock and pals to use their cars to capture Vin Diesel, but his car is better than their cars. Then we get to the climax, where Charlize Theron (in her blonde dreads) remotely pilots a nuclear submarine while Jason Statham rescues a baby from a private jet and The Rock kicks a torpedo into a car full of Russian soldiers. It's insane. I could criticize the cheesy performances, or the over-the-top plot, or the action setpieces that took my suspension of disbelief, curbstomped it, and dissolved the corpse in a vat of quicklime. I could do any number of those things, but I'd just be shouting into the void. This movie knows exactly what it wants to be and doesn't care what anyone has to say about it, and that's why I absolutely goddamn loved it. I'll admit, I was hesitant to watch this at first, but by the time the credits rolled, I wanted to give it a standing ovation for being one of the most unironically entertaining things I had ever seen in my entire life. I get it now. It's about family.

The Business/Pleasure Award for Favorite Movies I Watched for This Blog

and

The Rock and Rule Award for Underrated Animation

Take anyone who says "animation is for children" and show them these two films. Kubo and the Two Strings remains my deepest regret of 2016; rather than paying to see Kubo in theaters, I saw... another movie, and it's haunted me ever since. I can only hope that I'm able to make amends by never, ever shutting up about how spellbindingly brilliant this movie is. The geniuses at Laika continue to demonstrate why they are the name in modern stop-motion; the amount of blood, sweat, and tears that went into making something like Kubo is the stuff of Renaissance-era legend. I don't want to gush too much over the animation, lest I give the impression that visuals are all Kubo has to offer. There's some films where I want to boil them down to their sheer essence, the artistry and effort and imagination that gave it being, and inject it into my veins; Kubo is one such film. We also have Wizards, from animation legend Ralph Bakshi. This is the film that really sparked an interest in 70's animation for me. While it may be too obtuse for some, I was hooked on its incredible art design and insanely original story right from the get-go. There's so much to dissect and explore with Wizards; it's a movie that doesn't start to show its full hand until the viewer cares enough to take a look for themselves, and that's something that I treasure (whenever I'm lucky enough to find it).

The Best of the Year Award for Best Movies of 2017

As if there was any doubt how this was gonna turn out. I apologize if anyone is disappointed that my Best of 2017 picks are two films already featured in the Retrospective, but come on now. Logan is, without question, my favorite film of 2017 (hell, it's my favorite film of the past several years). It took nearly 20 years of superhero iconography and used it as a jumping-off point to tell a story that was small in scope, yet with incredible emotional weight to it. It's just perfect. The culmination of Logan's journey after all this time, the conflict between the hero he was built up to be and the weapon he never wanted to become. His relationship with Xavier and the Professor's struggle against the steady march of time. The mutual fatigue of these two main characters, their temptation to just give up and die, and the fleeting hope that helping Laura could be the last good thing either has a chance to do. It's all just so perfect. The more I think about it, the more I fall in love with it. Baby Driver, conversely, takes the silver medal this year, which is nothing to be ashamed of by any means. True, I had my nitpicks with the story (and it's tragic that such an excellent film will always have to be associated with Kevin Spacey), but at the end of the day, Baby Driver is pure art. Edgar Wright continues to prove himself as one of the most talented directors of our time, instilling all of his movies with a distinct comedic flair and attention to detail, managing to mix scenery, music, humor, drama, and action in such a stylish, seamless, yet altogether human fashion that you might as well just say it's magic and call it a day. These were my two favorite films of 2017; if 2018 has anything to offer that even comes close to these two, then we've definitely got something to look forward to in the new year.

So without further ado...

Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you all so much for stopping by each week. I seriously can't properly articulate how surreal and wonderful it feels whenever anyone tells me that they read what I write on this blog, and I don't think I'm ever going to get used to it. 2017 has been a big year from me; I graduated college, got a new job, and started working towards a Master's Degree. There's been a lot of changes and there have been times where the transition has hardly been smooth; I missed more deadlines this past year than I would like to admit, yet you all stuck with me through thick and thin. In 2017 alone, Jurassic Mark has received nearly 100 Thousand page views. At this time last year, we were right around 8,000 total. Again, I can't properly articulate how that makes me feel, so I'll simply say this.

Honestly, sincerely, from the bottom of my heart; thank you for reading.

And here's wishing you and yours a happy, safe, prosperous 2018!

And like always, here's a list of Honorable Mentions that just didn't make the cut for one reason or another: The Disaster Artist, Over the Garden Wall, Dunkirk, The Spectacular Spider-Man, Tarzan, Clue, The Prince of Egypt, Pete's Dragon (2016), The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), and Fargo.

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: 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: A Series of Unfortunate Events

If there's one thing I'm thankful for in this heyday of digital streaming, it's the wealth of opportunities the format presents to the field of adaptation. There are so many stories that simply wouldn't work as standard-length films; the idea that a but a single of George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire books would be condensed into a single two-hour film (roughly the equivalent of two episodes of Game of Thrones) is laughable. As technology has evolved, it has become a more feasible venture to adapt long-term stories into long-term series, as evidenced not only with Game of Thrones, but also with Netflix's latest offering, A Series of Unfortunate Events. I recall reading several of the books as a child and was excited to see the works of Lemony Snicket done justice (at least, moreso than the 2004 film adaptation starring Jim Carrey).

The story, as told by the enigmatic Snicket (Patrick Warburton), follows the three Baudelaire children; Violet (Malina Weissman), Klaus (Louis Hynes), and Sunny (Presley Smith). After their parents are killed in a mysterious fire, the three orphans are carted off to their (physically) closest living relative, a sinister actor by the name of Count Olaf (Neil Patrick Harris). As is stated in their parents' will, the children are to inherit an enormous fortune once Violet comes of age; it is Olaf's ambition to seize the Baudelaire fortune in any way that he can. The series follows the three children as they are sent from guardian to guardian, constantly pursued by Olaf and his troupe of villainous acting buddies. The events that transpire are sardonic, macabre, and, as the title would imply, unfortunate.

The first season of the show covers the first four books in the series: The Bad Beginning, The Reptile Room, The Wide Window, and The Miserable Mill. Each book takes up two episodes and each episode clocks in at more or less an hour a piece. It's one of the neatest formats I've ever seen for a series such as this, keeping everything organized and easy to absorb. The 2004 film condensed the first three books into a single movie, sacrificing the subtle, methodical tone and pacing of the source material. Here, everything unfolds at a perfectly respectable rate, not too quickly and not too slowly. This is definitely a point in the show's favor, considering this is a series which aims for a decidedly younger crowd than the bloody action of Daredevil or the existential dread of Bojack Horseman. 

I can easily see some criticizing the show of losing sight of its target audience; while the books can be found in elementary school libraries, the show's dry tone and drab, stylized visual style may be a turn-off for the younger crowd. While I can agree that not every child will be taken in by what this show has to offer, I feel as though those who enjoy things on the macabre side will greatly enjoy themselves. This is very much a show for the bookworms, packed to the brim with literary humor and colorful language. That is to say nothing of the underlying theme of the whole thing; at the heart of the Baudelaire's plight is the sad, simple truth that adults often just don't listen to children. The siblings are all very intelligent, well-spoken, and well-read, yet are constantly held back by their age. Nearly every authority figure they come across is either condescending, naive, villainous, or some combination thereof; it's very much a tale for kids who feel disenfranchised and talked-down to by authority figures, and it gets this message across in superb form.

That said, I do have my share of nitpicks to address as well. While I adore the set design and visual style of the series (which implements sharp, contrasting colors and striking anachronisms to create a sort of hybrid aesthetic between early Tim Burton and Pushing Daisies), the use of CGI is simply painful in most cases. I don't fault the showrunners for using digital effects to portray giant leeches gnawing through a boat hull or a baby gnawing bark off a log; in those cases, it actually looks mostly passable for an online series. But I don't understand why, with all the gorgeous (and likely expensive) practical sets, they felt the need to use digital effects for something as simple as a shot of the main characters riding a trolly. It's something that completely pulled me out of this unique, immersive world whenever it showed up. I can only hope, with the massive acclaim the series has been receiving, that Season 2 will see an increased budget.

I also feel as though the show sometimes thinks it's a bit more clever than it really is; while I love the various literary references, absurdist humor, and dry dialog exchanges, the show can sometimes layer it on a bit too thick. Though that may just be my jaded cynicism talking. I did, on the other hand, thoroughly enjoy the performances of all the main cast. The show boasts talent such as Alfre Woodard, Aasif Mandvi, and Catherine O'Hara, and no one at all feels wasted. The three Baudelaires all do well as young protagonists, coming off as believable, capable, and relatable without once coming off as grating (important for any story starring children, absolutely vital for this particular property). As is to be expected, the one who steals the show is Neil Patrick Harris as Count Olaf (though my personal favorites were his acting troupe).

The role was formerly filled by Jim Carrey in the aformentioned film, so it's safe to say that Harris had some rather large shoes to fill; the character of Count Olaf is one who operates on theatricality and trickery, adopting various disguises in an attempt to swindle the Baudelaires out of their family fortune. Thankfully, NPH pulls it off with aplomb, burying himself under tons of prosthetic makeup and seemingly having a ball. I do wish that his character had more chances to come off as genuinely threatening (since he's responsible for some genuinely uncomfortable moments early on in the series), but even his goofy showmanship is fun and engaging to watch. Carrey's take on Olaf was undoubtedly the strongest aspect of the 2004 adaptation, and the same is true of Neil Patrick Harris' performance here.

Regardless of the various disclaimers presented by the very catchy theme song, I do heartily recommend you check out A Series of Unfortunate Events. There may not be much here for those who didn't grow up with the books, but I still found myself having a fun, engaging time watching it. The underlying lore of the source material is definitely more pronounced here than in the books, since the show explores other characters from time to time, aside from the three main children. The mystery which runs through the story of the Baudelaire orphans is interesting enough to keep the audience engaged, leading up to a fabulous end-of-season twist that has me eager to come back for more. It's a drier, darker, more subversive breed of children's entertainment that I feel the world could always use more of. Definitely give it a watch.