The Reel World

“Michael Myers has haunted this town for 40 years … Tonight we hunt him down.”

In 2018 when Halloween came out, I have to admit I was disappointed. Maybe I just had such high hopes, or the film just simply didn’t offer up anything fresh to the series as I had hoped. Sure, it had its moments, like the long tracking shot of Michael doing what he does best and leaving a trail of bodies behind, but aside from that, I felt it was a relatively forgettable entry. I love the original film. What John Carpenter did scared me as a child and still excites me after numerous viewings. Halloween II is a fun watch that I continue to enjoy. And for a more controversial take, I’m even a fan of Rob Zombie’s Halloween. I liked the time spent with a young Michael Myers, and I look at the film as basically a southern re-telling of the Boogeyman. The franchise is hit or miss, and the numerous timelines do complicate the lore, so I was more than a little skeptical about Halloween Kills and it being the middle of David Gordon Green’s trilogy.

“As long as we are looking over our shoulder, the past is not dead.”

When it comes to Daniel Craig’s Bond movies, I’ve found them to be hit or miss. There are those I love, such as Casino Royale and Skyfall, and then there are those that I wasn’t that into, such as Quantum of Solace and Spectre. However, when it comes to No Time to Die, there is no question that it is my favorite of all the Craig-led Bond movies. Maybe it was how long I’ve been waiting to experience it given that the onset of COVID resulted in the film’s release being delayed multiple times, so by the time it was finally here, I could barely contain my excitement. However, I think it is more likely that the reason is the knowledge that this will be Craig’s final portrayal as the suave secret agent with a penchant for shaken martinis. Either way, Craig’s swan song film was without question great, despite certain elements not delivering on the hype. Craig leaves the franchise with is head held high, as I cannot imagine a more dignified exit for his portrayal.

In 1999 when The Sopranos first premiered on HBO, I don’t think anyone was expecting just how much it would change the television landscape. In its run it made cable TV a main contender for the Emmys, but it also changed the way we see TV, as it took the gangster movie dynamic and stretched it out into a series that ran successfully for 86 episodes. Then there was the way the series came to a close that has had fans and critics talking nearly 15 years after it last aired. It’s the show that raised the bar for what television can be and has been the standard since which only a handful of shows have been able to match in quality. Personally (and I know this is a controversial take) I’m only a fan of the first three seasons, but even a bad episode of The Sopranos is better than most television shows out there. There was talk for a while about spin-off shows and possible movies. This kind of talk would of course get fans excited, but the question always was, where can you go with the story? Then in 2013 when James Gandolfini died, it seemed like any possible revival was squashed.

"That was a long time ago, wasn't it?"

Everyone has one. There is that shirt in your closet. Or maybe it's a pair of pants, socks, or even shoes. Whatever it is, it should have been thrown out decades ago. There could be holes, and it's certainly so threadbare that you could do the New York Times crossword through the fabric. It's not practical, if it ever even was. If it were any other piece of clothing you'd be embarrassed to be wearing it. But the dang thing is so comfortable. It's soft against your skin, or maybe it brings back one of your favorite memories. Whatever the reason, you love that thing, and you wish you could wear it all the time. That's exactly how some of us feel about Clint Eastwood. I was a teen in high school when he asked us if we felt lucky and begged us to make his day. A lot of years and a lot of movies have come and gone since then. Clint doesn't have the abilities to run around shooting up the joint anymore.

As fans of the MCU, I think it’s safe to say we’ve all been anxiously waiting to see what Phase 4 would be bringing us. In a lot of ways this is the new era of Marvel characters and a new story arc that will be kicking off since Endgame seemed to wrap things up.  Disney Plus as been teasing fans and tiding us over with Wandavision, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier and then Loki. On the cinematic front we had the long delayed Black Widow, but considering that film took place in a pre-snap timeline, the question remained, what was next for the Avengers?  With Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, we finally get that answer, and as exciting as that is, I have to admit I’m a little worried. I’m not saying it’s time to abandon ship, because I’ll be upfront and say I enjoyed Shang-Chi, but the Disney influence  is starting to rear its head, and I’m a little concerned for how much influence studio heads are having over the product and how much control is being taken away from the creative heads, i.e. the writers and directors.

From Bride of Frankenstein to Night of the Living Dead and even Godzilla, horror has been a platform filmmakers have used for decades to handle larger societal issues. In 1992 when the first Candyman released, it was a film that tackled issues of class and race, but it did so in a manner that didn’t feel forced, and in doing so it added an extra level to what I’d consider one of the best horror films of the 90’s. I love the story of Candyman, and the performance Tony Todd gave this tragic character was an equal blend of horror, menace, and sympathy. The way the first film builds its impending doom for Helen Lyle has rarely  been matched in films since. Watching as her life crumbles around her up until the moment she finally surrenders herself to Candyman and accepts her awful fate is an impactful moment. The sequels just never lived up to the first film, and it’s a shame, because I simply loved the idea of this modern urban legend that haunted the projects of Black America.

"We all have secrets."

Right from the jump there's a lot to like about The Night House, directed by David Bruckner and starring Rebecca Hall. It's the kind of horror film that derives its scares from the point of emotional loss that cuts to the center of the kinds of things that really scare us all. From that point the film immerses us deep into the kind of atmosphere that doesn't come from gory special effects or even some of the nicely placed jump scenes. Instead Bruckner engineers his cinematography to play slight tricks on our eyes that immediately reveal some clever usages of the film's set designs and an Escheresque distortion of our point of view. It's the kind of film that demands you pay very strict attention and then rewards you for the effort. Sounds like a great movie, yeah? Unfortunately, the screenplay, written by Ben Collins and Luke Piotrowski, who both penned the now shooting Hellraiser reboot/sequel, is the glaring weak link that caused me to leave the theater repeating, "I almost loved it."

“The past can haunt a man.  That’s what they say. But the past is just a series of moments. Perfect … .complete … a bead on the necklace of time.”

So, an interesting factoid that I learned about the film’s director Lisa Joy: she is the sister-in-law of director Christopher Nolan. This doesn’t really add anything to the review, just an interesting fact that I thought I’d share. Then again, I do remember thinking when the film first opened up that it felt very shades-of-Nolan. Not to say that Nolan had any influence over the film, but just the idea of a movie based off a construct is very much in his wheelhouse. Memory is the construct that is explored in this film, and I must admit that the addictive nature in which the film portrays this construct did have some appeal; however, the film tries to bring too many different themes and elements together, and it results in not enough attention being paid to any of them. Hugh Jackman and Rebecca Ferguson are the film’s big draws, and while their electricity helps to make the film decent, it cannot make it great.

"I know this world is just a game, but this place, these people, that's all I have. So I'm not gonna be the good guy. I'm gonna be a great guy." 

Free Guy is the love letter to video gamers of all ages that Ready Player One should have been. While Ready Player One spent most of its resources on spectacle and a rather convoluted mythology, Free Guy allows the heart to come from the characters and plays out as something much closer to the passion and attachment players have long felt for their favorite games and game characters. The film manages to do this without giving up on the spectacle. There's plenty of that computer-generated magic here, enough to immerse us in the AI world of the game.

It doesn’t seem all that long ago that Disney/Marvel decided to fire James Gunn over a couple of tweets and Warner Brothers decided to scoop up the talented director to helm a reboot of The Suicide Squad. Personally, I feel this was the best move WB has done with their DC film projects since the Christopher Nolan Batman films. I’ll come out and say it: I haven’t been a fan of the DC cinematic universe. Wonder Woman and Shazam were decent, but they simply don’t hold up to what Marvel has been able to produce. While I’m fine with attempting to tell more mature storylines and appeal to an older audience, my biggest problem with the DC films is that they just weren’t fun (Shazam is perhaps the only exception to this). I’m not part of the “Release the Snyder cut” crowd; instead I just want to see a comic book film that can be entertaining and not take itself too seriously, and that brings me back to James Gunn. I’m a fan of Gunn. I absolutely adore what he’s done with The Guardians of the Galaxy, those are both in my top 5 of the Marvel films, because I love how he handles the group of misfit heroes.