Bad Times At The El Royale

I gotta admit, I had reservations about clicking "rent this movie," with my remote control.

I paused, considered it, then thought about it some more. Placed my thumb on the "enter" button then pulled it off more than once. I bit my lip and made that duck-lips thing I do when I'm perplexed.

I weighed the pros and cons:

Pro:
1. The movie stars Jeff Bridges, an actor who never disappoints me;
2. Jon Hamm has as supporting role, and Hamm seems drawn to solid roles in solid movies;
3. Drew Goddard wrote and directed the film noir thriller. (That mighta shoulda been listed as #1.)

Con:
1. I don't particularly like flicks described as film noir;
2. Dakota Johnson has a major role;
3. I read Chris Hemsworth speaks with an American English accent;
4. A photo of a near shirtless Chris Hemsworth dons the movie poster (and I'm immediately insecure);
5. There's no sign or mention of Mjolnir;
6. Cailee Spaeny and Lewis Pullman who?;
7. Nick Offerman is listed in the credits without Megan Mullally;
8. The flick lost money during its theater run.

So clearly, the rental was dicey at best. But, I took the chance. I popped the corn, poured the cold Diet Coke, turned down the lights and pressed "enter."

Unlike most bets I make in my life, this one paid off. Bad Times At The El Royale is a terrific film, noir or not.

Goddard tells a complicated, interesting story in a way that allows the audience to follow easily and to connect with each character. Jeff Bridges is (as usual) remarkable, while Jon Hamm and Chris Hemsworth bring memorable performances. Dakota Johnson and Lewis Pullman impress in supporting roles integral to the film.

But Cynthia Erivo is the heart of this movie! And she delivers for the audience every second she's on the screen.

In an age of ultra-cool and realistic special effects, Bad Times At The El Royale thrills the way a movie is supposed to thrill -- with a great plot, terrific performances, unexpected twists and turns, and characters with which the audience can feel connected. Add to that some really quirky aspects (the hotel is built on the geographic divide between Nevada and California, a plot device used well several times in the movie) and dense, well written dialogue and you have a really satisfying flick.

Even if it lost money at the box office.

Avengers: Endgame

Like lots of comic book geeks, when I was 12-ish (during the mid-70s) I spent a lot of time -- and, I mean, a lot of time! -- in my bedroom cutting DC and Marvel heroes out of their books and pasting them onto things. I'd paste them onto anything, really. Paper, notebook covers, my wall, my wooden bedframe, the ceiling. Anything on which I could paste:

The Batman vs. Black Panther;
Superman vs. Hulk;
Green Arrow vs. Hawkeye
Flash vs. Quicksilver.

You get the gist. And in my pre-teen universe, DC heroes always won.

Cutting and pasting characters in heroic poses was the best I could come up with in the 70s. The New Adventures of Batman (what with the yellow chest oval and that loveable goof Bat-Mite) was still a year or two away, and Christopher Reeve's Superman had yet to debut. No cable or Internet meant no access to old serials from the 1940s and 50s.

 Flat, poorly trimmed paper champions were the only way I could make comic book fight scenes come to life.

Comic book-based films were hit and miss for the next few decades. Burton's Batman was well received, but studious actually considered Nicolas Cage for Superman Lives. Roger Corman's Fantastic Four was never released to theaters (although I had a copy), but Affleck's Daredevil and Halle Berry's Catwoman were. And those films were so bad they made me anxious that Batman Begins would be horrible, too.

Thankfully, Christopher Nolan proved me wrong.

With this inconsistent history, I was less than optimistic when Marvel announced Iron Man would be released in 2008. A genius-but-troubled actor starring as a clunky, B-list hero made no sense to me. It would fail, I predicted.

And I made that prediction loud and often.

I was glad to be wrong (again). Iron Man was so well done that it ignited Marvel's multi-billion dollar venture into film and led to the development of several really good hero-focused streaming service-based series. Phases 1-3 of Marvel's movies will be the benchmark to which all future comic book movies are compared. In addition to stories being well scripted and superbly acted, movies in those phases were interconnected along a common plot device. While each can stand on its own as a unique flick, the movies together make up a serial that's moving toward a common conclusion.

But after 10-plus years, the story arc that connected nearly two dozen movies had to be resolved in a way that satisfied the audience.

Avengers: Endgame is ultimately satisfying. Patiently, Endgame reminds us how the movies are interconnected, then wraps up the conclusion with a ribbon that's all at once beautiful, devastating, and gratifying. It's sentimental, funny, full of action, and contains plenty of twists and turns.

It's better than I imagined it could be when I was 12.

The Mustang

There's a story involving a horse that illustrates one of the early insights held by famed psychotherapist Carl Rogers, who developed a person-centered, humanistic approach to helping others. 

[For transparency, it's been several years since I read this story and my re-telling of it may be flawed. You Rogerians will forgive if I get some facts wrong -- the gist will still be accurate.]

Rogers spent his teen years living on a farm several miles outside Chicago, Illinois. One morning he watched several men try to move a horse from the barn. The horse, as horses sometimes do, was having none of it. The men pushed, pulled, yelled, smacked, and pushed some more; still, the horse refused to budge. When the men took a break a young Rogers walked to the horse's side. He spent time caressing the and whispering softly to the horse. Then, he calmly took hold of the bridle and exited the barn together with the horse, walking side by side. 

The equality of the relationship was what helped the horse feel safe. Comfortable enough to do what needed to be done.

The Mustang is themed on the same principle: all animals need to feel trust and safe in order to grow, mature, and prosper. I'm unsure if prisoner Roman Coleman or the Mustang named Marcus is the star of the flick. But I do know they understood each other. And they grew to love and respect each other.

And they became better as a result.

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.