Shazam!

Sha -- fuckin' -- zam!!

Pet Sematary (2019)

"They don't come back the same."

~ Judd Crandall

Judd Crandall's prophetic warning is true, whether one is talking about the reanimation of pets, people, or old movies.

Pet Sematary, based on the Stephen King thriller of the same name, was unsettling to viewers in 1989. It examined dark questions about loss and motivation in a raw, in-your-face way that was both repulsive and attractive to consider.

What is the real stuff that makes us alive, and how permanent is death? 

Faced with the dilemma, what would you do if you knew you had the ability to embrace and talk with your dead loved one again? 

Where is our rock bottom? That place each of us would have to be to carry out an act that is legally, socially, and culturally corrupt?

The 2019 film version asks the same questions as the original, albeit in a slightly different way and with a different intensity. But the questions raised sound hollow in this incarnation. We've heard and contemplated them before, so we're a bit desensitized to the horror.

There are several really good things about this modern version of King's flick. John Lithgow is terrific as Judd Crandall, and Jete Laurence shows real chops portraying what is essentially two characters. The film looks slick, effectively builds suspense, and has moments that make you legit gasp. 

But as we've learned from watching remakes of classic films over the past several years, "they don't come back the same." 

Indeed.

Captive State

I'm certain that when an alien race takes over the earth -- and it's just a matter of time! -- Captive State is a pretty good depiction of how things will play out.

When it all goes down, I'll be your William Mulligan.

Us

Horror fans have been waiting years for a smart, relevant flick that can still scare the hell out of the audience. 

Welcome home, Us.

Us isn't a movie one can discuss in detail without giving away spoilers, but you've seen bits and pieces of Us in other movies. You watched Jack Torrance transform into something he may always have been in The Shining, and you know and appreciate Hitchcockian use of imagery to create suspense. You still squirm in your seat when you hear the Jaws theme.

And you know you and I both watched most of C.H.U.D. while peeking through our fingers.

Jordan Peele, who wrote and directed Us, channels Hitchcock, a lotta Kubrick, some Spielberg, and other modern horror gimmicks to set a tone and pace that well serves the movie. Investing heavily in those flavors pays off. Humor, defection, and imagery pulls the audience deeper into the action, and misdirects us away from the existential themes of the film. 

Until they don't anymore. 

And that makes for a satisfying ending to a complicated story about who we are as individuals and as a society. 

Captain Marvel

I watched and listened

But never once in two hours

Did I hear "Shazam!"

Behind The Curve

I pulled the sucker from my mouth and asked: "Is the earth really flat?"

I was a really young child, riding home with my Dad from someplace I've forgotten. It was late at night, and that moon . . . well, it just seemed to follow us in a way that I didn't think it should. As if it was pinned straight above us.

Much of the rest of the ride home was spent with me getting a lecture on angles, speed, and visual perception, and how those things create an illusion in how we see the moon.

So I continued to stare at the moon while I counted how many licks it takes to get to the center of my Tootsie-Pop.

Behind The Curve, currently in rotation on Netflix. brought back memories of several childhood mysteries; things that seem magical in a moment of consideration but can be explained in full by science.

Behind The Curve pokes a lot of holes in the domed earth conspiracy, but it gives Flat Earthers plenty of opportunity to mansplain their belief to viewers. Boiled down, it sounds something like "I used to think the idea of a flat earth was crazy but once I looked into it I realized I couldn't prove it's not."

Yeah, but, the fact the earth is a sphere has already been proven. Like, a bunch of times in a whole lotta ways.

Watching the flick reminded me of the Dunning-Kruger Effect, a psychological phenomenon in which bias occurs because people view their cognitive abilities as superior to others when, in reality, they aren't. These folks don't have awareness of their own cognitive limitations and, as a result, live out an illusion in which they believe their opinions are more accurate than are the opinions of others.

And that includes the opinions of legit scientists, who've theorized and then proved tons-o-stuff over and over and over again.

The Dunning-Kruger Effect. Sounds sorta like our world of social media too, eh?

Widows

It's easy to predict a heist flick that stars Liam Neeson, Colin Farrell, Robert Duvall, Daniel Kaluuya, and Brian Tyree Henry would be filled with cinematic fireworks.

Nonstop action!

Complicated schemes and deep conspiracy!

Tons of testosterone!

And there is some of that in Widows. But the traditional fireworks are in the periphery; there to compliment the top shelf acting of lead Viola Davis and her supporting female cast.

Widows brings a fresh perspective to what otherwise might have been just a pretty good popcorn movie. And that fresh perspective is squarely the result of  director Steve McQueen's decision to tell the story from the viewpoint of characters who, traditionally, have been secondary players in a morality play.

McQueen's Widows is the best movie you didn't see in 2018. Catch it while you can.

Roma

[¡Mirad! La película perfecta!]

Glass

Meanwhile, back at the Batcave . . .

The Upside

More than thirty years ago I applied for a job supporting people diagnosed with autism.

Hell, I didn't know what "autism" was; this was the mid-80s, after all, a few years before "Rain Man." I was in the first years of college, and still pretty green. I heard the word "autism" once in a Child Development class, then remembered it when a woman from a local agency came on campus to recruit students to work for her upstart agency.

There were several reasons I applied for the job. My summer-time gig at Dairy Queen wasn't very satisfying, and the three majors I'd declared during my first two years of college (Speech Pathology, then English, and then Education -- yes, I was THAT student) weren't calling my name. I needed the cash, and I wanted to do something that helped people.

(That sounds like the CV of every human service professional I know.)

So, autism it was.

I met the person I was to support one Friday afternoon, just to become acquainted and help prepare him (and me) for my first shift on Monday. I went expecting to meet a disabled stereotype. Instead, I met a person who was genuinely kind, innocent, and interesting.

I was immediately hooked, and I've worked in the field every day since.

One of the reasons I was immediately hooked was the sudden jolt out of the paradigm with which I went to that meeting. I was told to expect one thing, and I discovered another. Curious, I wanted to hang around and learn more. One of the things I learned first was that the man I was hired to help instead helped me.

He helped me learn about who I am as a human being. He helped me learn to see the world from a new perspective. He helped me understand the joy that can come from selfless service. And most importantly, he taught me to view humanity from a humanistic perspective.

The friendship that is forged during The Upside is wonderful to watch, and the two leads use nuanced, subtle techniques to portray two people who are evolving into better human beings. It's the growth of Dell Scott, played masterfully by Kevin Hart, that's most enjoyable to watch. Scott entered into his caregiver job a selfish person, interested only in helping himself. At the end of the flick we see him understand that it's what we do for others that improves life quality.

The Upside is not just a feel-good movie. Cranston and Hart are worth the price of admission. And if you leave the cinema a better person, that's just gravy.