This Must Be the Place

Written by Shawn Eastridge

Let’s get the important stuff out of the way first: between starring in Richard Linklater’s Everybody Wants Some with Tyler Hoechlin and now with David Corenswet in Twisters, Glen Powell has worked with TWO Supermen in the past decade. A true honor and privilege, and one I hope he doesn’t take for granted.

Am I the only one who’s paying attention to these things? Does this mean I have a Superman problem? Yes and yes? Great. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, on to the review!

Written by Shawn Eastridge

“We’ve come so far. We’ve made so much progress. But as a nation, and as a people, we’re not quite there yet. We have miles to go.”

So begins Dawn Porter’s excellent new documentary ‘John Lewis: Good Trouble,’ which opens with a shot of Lewis speaking directly to the audience. It’s a scene Porter will return to throughout the film: Lewis, sitting on a stool, sharing his experiences. Behind him, a giant screen onto which Porter and her team project footage of Lewis as a young man. At one point, a visibly moved Lewis tells her, “Dawn, I’m seeing footage I’ve never seen before.” It’s this intimate moment, and others like it, that make this documentary so special, offering us a glimpse not only at Lewis the legend but Lewis the human being.

As a boy, Lewis passed his days preaching the Gospel to his chickens. (“They listened to me better than some members of the opposing side.”) In high school, he wore a tie and carried a Bible with him every day. By the time he’d reached college, his compassion for humanity and admiration for Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. led him to join the front lines of the Civil Rights Movement. 

During the 1960s, Lewis helped organize peaceful sit-ins at restaurants in Nashville, Tennessee, eventually resulting in desegregation of lunch counters in the city. He worked from the mindset of Reverend James Lawson Jr.’s teachings about passive resistance. They were encouraged to ‘look their attackers in the eye,’ to feel nothing but compassion and love for those who hurt them. If they were struck in the face, perhaps this unbroken glance would give their offender pause. Perhaps in the absence of physical retaliation, their offender would recognize something human. One of the film’s most heartbreaking moments features one of Lewis’ Black peers involved in the movement reading a letter from his mother, scolding him and reminding him that it is the ‘white man’ that is responsible for his education. “What about the people of your race? What have they given you?” The boy tells a young Lewis, “I mean, I know she cares for me…I know she loves me. But, man, she just don’t understand.”

By the age of 23, Lewis was recognized as one of the ‘Big Six’ leaders of the Movement, which included Roy Wilkins, James Farmer and Dr. King. He was the youngest speaker at the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, and is the only one still alive today. His 60-plus years as a social activist and a legislator has seen him fight not only for civil rights, but for voting rights, common sense gun laws and healthcare reform. In his lifetime, he has been arrested nearly 50 times (the elder Lewis jokes he’ll probably get arrested again for something or other), brutally beaten, mocked and castigated. “I lost all sense of fear,” he tells us. And through it all, he’s persevered, stacking up a list of accomplishments that is nothing short of inspiring.

This is all to say there’s a lot of ground to cover over the course of a 100-minute runtime. Somehow, miraculously, Porter pulls it off. Not only does Porter’s documentary shine a light on Lewis’ life, detailing his extensive list of accomplishments as both an activist and a congressman, it serves as a powerful reminder that there’s still plenty of work left to do. ‘Good Trouble’s’ overarching message aligns itself with Lewis’ impassioned, lifelong battle: the right for all American citizens to vote must be cherished and protected at all costs. This is the very heart of our democracy, and it must be preserved. (The film’s release over 4th of July weekend of an election year couldn’t be more timely.)

The remarkable footage of Lewis as a young man during the Civil Rights Movement is intercut with the present day struggles revolving around the right to vote in America and the disturbing evidence of voter suppression that still remains. There’s a wealth of footage featuring Lewis as he makes the rounds across the country during the 2018 midterm elections. One of the most charming sequences showcases Lewis watching the election play out, cheering on his favorite candidates like you’d cheer on your favorite athlete. He calls them and congratulates them, only just managing to keep his excitement at bay.

There are extended sequences in which Lewis encounters random citizens while out and about. He seems delighted to meet with each and every one of them, and these moments account for some of the film’s most touching. Another highlight features Lewis’ Chief of Staff, Michael Collins, sharing the story of how Collins’ father’s funeral was on the same day as the reauthorization of the Voting Rights Act. Lewis attended the funeral. It’s further proof on a more intimate scale that through the years Lewis has remained a deeply compassionate and caring human being. The friendship and deep love between these two men also provides some of the biggest laughs. Collins teases Lewis for all the lipstick on his face, the result of numerous women greeting and kissing him. “I didn’t ask them to kiss me,” Lewis retorts. Lewis returns the good-natured ribbing in kind. As Collins helps Lewis up a large flight of stairs, Lewis pretends to trip and lose his balance. “Don’t let me fall!” he jokes.

And naturally we get mention of Lewis’ viral video dancing to Pharrell Williams’ smash hit single ‘Happy.’ It’s these smaller, humanizing moments that make this documentary so special.

At times, the truncated running length works against the film. Because the film focuses so exclusively on Lewis’ political activism and his work as a congressman, we lose some of the details of his personal life. This is especially clear in the film’s final third. I wish I could have learned more about his late wife Lillian Miles Lewis, and their son John Miles. Likewise, the details regarding Lewis’ intense and bitter run-off election against his long-time friend Georgia State Rep. Julian Bond in 1986 are skimmed over. But I want to emphasize that these are minor complaints. I can’t imagine the struggle to condense such an accomplished man’s life and career into a digestible, 100-minute runtime. Porter’s documentary succeeds in providing an overarching look at Lewis’ incredible life, and there are plenty of great materials out there to supplement this wonderful effort. The film has a limited opening this weekend across the country and will be available via streaming services. Don’t miss it.

Oh, yeah, and make sure to vote.

And on that note, I leave you with Congressman Lewis dancing to Pharrell Williams’ ‘Happy.’

Written by Shawn Eastridge

I never thought I’d ever say this, but I’m starting to think Spider-Man might be too good for Marvel’s Cinematic Universe. No. Scratch that. I know he is. And Far From Home, the latest entry in this franchise, proves it once and for all.

I was willing to give Spider-Man: Homecoming a pass. Despite being relatively shallow, it’s light on its feet, has a great villain in Michael Keaton’s Vulture and contains a strong emotional beat for Spidey near the film’s climax. Far From Home has none of this. In fact, Far From Home is one of the blandest entries Marvel Studios has yet released. Instead of seeking out opportunities to deepen Peter Parker’s character, Marvel Studios has relegated him to cleaning up the mess Avengers: Endgame left behind.  When a Spider-Man film makes you long for the emotional depth of Spider-Man 3, you know there’s a problem.

Following the shenanigans of Infinity War and Endgame, Peter is understandably ready for a vacation. His upcoming summer class trip is the perfect opportunity to do so. Not only will he and his best bud Ned get to take in a number of scenic European views, but Peter will get a chance to spend quality time with his crush MJ. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll finally get the chance to tell her how he feels. Peter even goes so far as to leave his Spider suit behind, determined to enjoy this time off to the fullest. 

Naturally, things don’t work out that way. Before long, Nick Fury arrives to pull Peter off of the sidelines and back into the superhero-ing world. Quentin Beck, a superhero claiming to be from another dimension, has arrived in the midst of a number of Elemental monster attacks. These Elementals, comprising of - you guessed it - water, fire and earth, destroyed Beck’s Earth. Beck is now determined to protect Peter’s Earth at all costs, but he and Fury will need Peter’s help to do so. That is, if Peter is up for the task.

Right from the get-go, Far From Home casually dismisses Endgame’s dramatic heft in favor of a quick laugh. While I understand the need to establish a different tone from Endgame, the offhand way Far From Home makes light of Endgame’s superb conclusion further emphasizes how little director Jon Watts and this creative team cares about making anything that happens here feel significant in any way. At every turn, Far From Home attempts to distract the audience from its glaring insignificance by going the route of comedy. Every action sequence is punctuated by some half-assed punchline or an overriding sense of artificiality - Flash Thompson live-blogging on his phone; the teachers making some kooky comments about how they’re all going to die. There’s no sense of danger. No suspense. No stakes. None of it feels remotely believable. 

To be fair, the emphasis on humor is a common complaint lobbied at the MCU. Here’s the thing, though: while humor plays a large role in these films, the humor enriches the already present emotional stakes and characters. For the most part, we’re laughing with our heroes, not at them. (Thor: Ragnarok is the argument to the contrary, but the big difference between that film and this one is that Thor: Ragnarok is actually funny.) Far From Home can’t seem to differentiate between those two things. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if the jokes didn’t feel so forced and awkward.

And, hey, speaking of forced and awkward, how ‘bout those action sequences? With the exception of one genuinely impressive Mysterio-inspired acid trip, every action scene feels lackluster and uninspired. It’s like the studio handed director Jon Watts a shot list and storyboards without taking any input from him. “All you need to do is show up on set and say, ‘Action!’ Whatever unique sensibilities or voice Watts brought to the table with Homecoming have all but vanished in Far From Home. 

Actually, you know what it reminds me of? Marc Webb’s short-lived Amazing Spider-Man series. No, hear me out real quick. Neither of those movies are particularly good, but which one feels more like the product of the 500 Days of Summer director? The first one, right? And which one feels more like a studio-mandated, computer-generated crapshoot? (There’s only one guess left here, people. You can’t go wrong) 

Far From Home is the MCU’s equivalent of The Amazing Spider-Man 2. It’s louder, more colorful and ultimately emptier than its immediate predecessor. I guess it’s fitting that Mysterio would be Far From Home’s main villain. A character that specializes in crafting intricate illusions to hide how insignificant everything is? Sounds about right, doesn’t it? Jake Gyllenaal takes on the role with manic enthusiasm, but the character’s motivations are flimsy and dull. Once again, we have a villain hellbent on getting revenge on Tony Stark, and once again, we have Spider-Man cleaning up a mess Tony Stark left behind. 

Great.

Things don’t fare much better with Peter’s personal relationships either, in particular, the romance between Peter and MJ. The two of them are all awkward pauses and nervous tics. It’s adorable, make no mistake, but like most of Far From Home, it feels artificial. We never get the sense that there’s a real relationship between these two because Watts and screenwriters Chris McKenna and Erik Sommers (the same writing pair behind the dull beyond all reason Ant-Man and the Wasp) never take a break from telling jokes to offer up a single moment of sincerity. Tom Holland and Zendaya have great chemistry, but there’s no substance to their interactions. The rest of the supporting cast are simplistic types, barely memorable. Even Ned, one of Homecoming’s highlights, is left on the sidelines with little to do.

What’s really disappointing is that Far From Home contains the set up for what could have been really great Spider-Man story. I love the idea that Peter just wants a break from all the crazy superhero duties. He just wants a vacation with his friends; he wants to spend time with the girl he’s crushing on. Doesn’t he deserve a break? It’s in the execution that this film fails.

Many of Spidey’s best tales deal with Peter’s struggle to balance his personal life - money woes, girl troubles, job issues, etc. - with the responsibility of being a superhero. It’s what makes this character so special. He carries a significant weight and the responsibility of being Spider-Man puts a damper on everything in his life. Sam Raimi’s trilogy understood this perfectly. It’s why those films still hold up so well. Even Spider-Man 3, as stupid and occasionally painful to watch as it is, had its heart in the right place.

The problem with the MCU’s version of Spider-Man is that it seems to ignore the emotional depth of the character in favor for a quick laugh and light-hearted adventures. Peter’s struggles never evolve beyond the surface level. There’s no sense of responsibility or obligation, nothing personal that seems to motivate Peter’s decision to be a hero. Marvel Studios is so concerned with making Spider-Man light and fun, they’ve forgotten to provide any meaningful emotional stakes or the slightest bit of complexity to the character. Other than a brief conversation in ‘Captain America: Civil War’ (which, by the way, remains the MCU’s best interpretation of this character to date and ISN’T EVEN A SPIDER-MAN MOVIE), we don’t have a strong sense of who Peter is or why he does what he does. As far as I can tell, Peter wants to be Spider-Man because he wants to live up to Tony Stark’s legacy. His entire motivation is reliant on another character. This robs Peter of a personal motivation and, as a direct result, reduces the character to a pale imitation of his true potential. 

And, look, I get it. The Uncle Ben stuff is well-tread territory. I’m not saying I need the same angsty overtones provided by the Raimi/Maguire trilogy, but the way these films bend over backwards to not mention Uncle Ben is borderline parodic. Here’s the thing: you don’t have to show Uncle Ben’s death or have it take precedent over the story to show its impact in Peter and Aunt May’s life. 

Instead of taking advantage of the chance to deepen the relationship between these two, to show how they’ve tried to move on in the wake of Ben’s passing, life seems pretty peachy-keen for the Parkers. They don’t seem to struggle with any money woes, illnesses or anything else that could potentially offer these films an ounce of significance. Uncle Ben provides the core motivation for why Spider-Man does what he does. When you take that out of the picture, what else is left? I mean, they don’t even acknowledge the fact that Peter has had two, count ‘em, TWO father figures taken from him in the span of, like, a year. Come on, people!

And at the center of all of this, fighting to overcome the film’s lack of identity and overarching blandness, is Tom Holland. Holland is a remarkable, gifted young actor. He’s nailed this character and has proven time and time again he has the chops to pull off a far more meaningful interpretation. I wish the studio was willing to meet him halfway. To watch him give his all in a film that doesn’t remotely deserve his talents is a depressing experience. 

That’s really the best way to describe this film. ‘Depressing.’ Far From Home reduces Spidey to a C-list member of the MCU’s expansive ensemble. His entries in this franchise feel more like financial obligations than attempts to tell meaningful stories. I wouldn’t care as much if it was another character getting lost in the corporate chaos, but this is SPIDER-MAN we’re talking about. He’s one of the most complex and beloved characters in the history of storytelling. The source material is overflowing with great stories that have meaningful emotions and stakes and this is the best Marvel Studios can come up with? As portrayed here, Spider-Man is no longer a character that can stand on his own. He’s just a fly trapped in someone else’s web. 

Written by Shawn Eastridge

There’s no need to fret, Pixar fans. Toy Story 4 is good. In fact, it’s better than it has any right to be. Especially when you consider how perfect a conclusion Toy Story 3 was to this story. Once again, Pixar demonstrates their winning blend of humor, heart and family-friendly excitement paired with the standard gorgeous visuals. 

All that said, Toy Story 4 is also the first in this series to feel inessential. The thematic territory explored here had already been explored to perfection in the first three films. Despite some great new characters (as well as some old favorites) and some intriguing ideas, the film never reaches the same heights as its predecessors. But while it lacks the freshness of Toy Story 1 and 2 and the emotional gut-punch of 3, Toy Story 4 is still solid entertainment from one of the most reliable studios out there.

This time around, we find Woody, Buzz and the rest of the gang living out their new lives with their new kid Bonnie. Woody’s struggling to find his place in this new environment. He’s no longer the leader and clearly not one of Bonnie’s favorite toys. When Bonnie returns from Kindergarten with ‘Forky,’ a new toy she made out of a spork, some googly eyes and a popsicle stick, Woody takes it upon himself to protect him and ensure he stays by her side. 

This becomes complicated as Forky is resistant to being a toy. He knows he’s trash, like, literal trash, and longs to fulfill his true purpose, making a mad dash for the closest waste bin whenever the opportunity presents itself. When Forky escapes during a summer road trip, Woody gives chase and winds up running into his old flame Bo Peep. During his time with her, Woody discovers there may be potential to pursue another, better life. But is he willing to give up his life with Bonnie and his friends to do so?

Does any of this sound familiar? You could pick out many of the plot points from the previous Toy Story films: Woody helping a toy realize it’s a toy while they try to get back to their kid (#1); Woody realizing he has the potential to live another life outside of the one he’s familiar with while his friends try to rescue him (#2); trying to figure out one’s place when the life you’ve known is no longer an option (#3).

There are a few interesting ideas presented here that we haven’t seen before, one of them being that children are essentially gods and can give ‘life’ to toys. But screenwriters Andrew Stanton and Stephany Folsom and director Josh Cooley steer clear of that complex and potentially problematic subject matter. (You can only ponder the nature of existence so much in a family film) Instead, they focus on Woody’s displacement, his feeling that he lacks any purpose in his new life with Bonnie.

Well, kind of. 

Honestly, the film can’t decide if it’s about Woody or Forky. About halfway through, Forky takes a back seat to Woody’s story. The writers sort of set up Woody’s conflict at the film’s start and there’s an emotional payoff near the end. Overall though, his character arc feels a bit undercooked resulting in emotional beats that lack the impact they need. 

And what about Buzz, Rex, Slinky Dog and the rest of the gang? Well. They’re there. But there isn’t a whole lot for them to do aside from fretting and worrying. The massive ensemble is just too unwieldy and the characters we know and love end up getting left behind. Buzz in particular doesn’t have much to do, and although the screenwriters try desperately to get him involved at any given point, they’re unable to give him much purpose here.

Toy Story 4 also suffers from a general lack of conflict. The villain introduced here, Gabby Gabby (voiced by Christina Hendricks), is well-developed. Her ventriloquist dummy henchmen are the stuff of genuine nightmares. But, for reasons I won’t spoil, the threat she presents ends up being more of a minor one. I appreciate the creative team’s attempts to present a different kind of villain, but it robs the film of much of its suspense. 

But while Toy Story 4 may be lacking in the storytelling department, the creative team fills the gaps with superb visuals and colorful new characters. First we’ve got Keanu Reeves’ Duke Caboom, a Canadian motorcyclist and daredevil, who provides nothing but pure joy whenever he’s on-screen. We’ve also got Bunny and Ducky, voiced by none other than Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele. These characters keep things feeling fresh and fun, providing some of the film’s biggest laughs. (They also feel like fodder for a potential Disney+ series down the line.)

Look, I get it. Toy Story 1-3 are masterpieces. It was only a matter of time before we’d get to one that was just plain ‘good.’ And I get that these films are money in the bank for Pixar. (You’ve gotta pay the bills somehow.) Perhaps Toy Story 4’s biggest accomplishment is that despite being a clear money-making venture, it feels like a genuine, heartfelt storytelling effort as opposed to a cynical cash cow. 

But maybe, just maybe, it’s time to really really close the book on this film series. You got away with it this time, Pixar, but it’s time to let Toy Story go. As this wonderful film series has taught us: nothing is meant to last. 

Five years ago I heard about an action movie in which Keanu Reeves played a master assassin seeking revenge on the men who killed his puppy. I thought it was a joke. Turns out, it was one of the best action films of the decade. Two years later, John Wick Chapter 2 rolled around, taking things to the next level with more amazing action sequences and an impressive amount of worldbuilding. While it wasn’t as fresh as its predecessor, it still got the job done and ended with a thrilling cliffhanger that left me excited for more. 

Now here we are with John Wick Chapter 3: Parabellum, which might very well be the best of the bunch. Everything great about the first two films is amplified and refined to perfection. At a little over two hours, Chapter 3 never out-stays its welcome thanks to outstanding choreography and a wide variety of settings and scenarios for the brutal carnage on display. There’s plenty of breathing room to allow for this world’s finer details to shine through. These moments provide some relief, but for the most part the film is relentless in its divvying out of one adrenaline rush of an action sequence after another. 

One of the great joys of cinema is when an action scene is executed with flawless finesse. Chapter 3 gives us multiple action set pieces that would serve as the showstopper for any one action film. It’s an embarrassment of riches. Even more impressive I rarely felt fatigued. Each fight is carefully choreographed and staged based on John’s surroundings, bring something fresh to the table each time. That this freshness is maintained through the entire runtime is impressive to say the least.  

Part of the key to the film’s success is Reeves himself. Reprising this role for the third time, Reeves exudes an aura of effortless cool and world-weariness tinged with bits of humor and an undercurrent of tragedy that makes him so endearing. His willingness to throw himself into these stunts, to fully devote himself to the action only helps. Note how many fight sequences play out in wide shots and long takes so you can clearly see Reeves is the one doing the fighting. 

Returning cast members Ian McShane, Lance Reddick and Laurence Fishburne are a delight, as are the new additions. First and foremost, Mark Dacascos is an absolute treat to watch. He makes for one of the most lovable baddies this franchise has offered up as of yet. Anjelica Huston shows up, lending her elegant gravitas to a small but effective role. Also joining the fray is Halle Berry, and to say she kicks ass in this movie is an understatement. She holds her own, matching Reeves’ penchant for amazing stuntwork. And hey, wait a second, is that Yayan Ruhian and Cecep Arif Rahman from The Raid films? Yes, PLEASE. 

Of course, another vital ingredient to the film’s success is Chad Stahelski’s masterful direction. The guy made his feature debut with the first John Wick and his talents have only grown more refined which each entry. His direction on Chapter 3 feels even more confident and assured. He knows exactly how to frame these fight scenes to ensure they’re at their most effective and he trusts his insanely talented stunt team to deliver the goods. Boy oh boy, do they. Aiding the visual appeal is returning cinematographer Dan Laustsen (The Shape of Water, Crimson Peak), whose sensibilities create a neon, comic book style world that feels both fantastical and totally grounded. He outdoes himself here.

Written by Shawn Eastridge Has it really been 11 years since the first Iron Man? The Dark Knight might have taken all the credit that year for revolutionizing the superhero genre, but Iron Man’s legacy has proved just as important. While other films in Phase One hobbled somewhere between decent and mediocre, Joss Whedon’s first Avengers exceeded any and all expectations. To this day, it stands as one of the greatest superhero films ever, and it paved the way for the remainder of Marvel’s Cinematic Universe.

Over the course of the past decade, the MCU has seen its fair share of highs (Anything directed by the Russos), lows (Thor movies not directed by Taika Waititi) and everything in between. But through it all, Marvel Studios has maintained a consistent level of quality, conjuring up box office numbers that made Warner Bros SO JEALOUS they ruined Superman in the attempt to catch up. (Hey, WB: I’m still available to help get you on the right track with the Man of Steel. Call me.)

But now, twenty-two movies later, it’s all come down to this. We’re in the Endgame now, the long-awaited BIG FINALE to Marvel’s Cinematic Universe.

Let’s be real, though - we all know this isn’t really the finale. The MCU will chug on and on forever. In fact, we’ve even got another Marvel movie right around the corner. (That would be July’s Spider-Man: Far From Home) And while that knowledge does dilute Endgame’s overall effectiveness - can anyone ever stay dead in the realm of comic books - it seems foolish to recognize Endgame as anything other than a monumental success.

Seriously, this ‘conclusion’ to the MCU’s recently dubbed ‘Infinity Saga’ satisfies on nearly every level, fulfilling arcs set up in prior films and providing proper send offs for characters we’ve come to know and love over the past decade. Instead of collapsing under the weight of its ongoing 22-film arc, the Russo Brothers, along with screenwriting duo Stephen McFeely and Christopher Markus, rise to the challenge and then some, wrapping things up with style, grace and a surprising amount of emotion. That is perhaps the most pleasant surprise: Endgame is genuinely touching in the way it thoughtfully concludes this ongoing story arc. You may find yourself dabbing the corners of your eyes more frequently than expected through the film’s brisk three-hour runtime.

This isn’t all to say that Endgame is without its fair share of flaws - and there are plenty that I’ll get into during the spoiler section of this review - but honestly, the nitpicks feel so minor when compared to all the things that work. Marvel Studios hasn’t just raised the bar for superhero filmmaking and ‘big finales’ in general. They’ve obliterated it.

There. That’s my non-spoiler reaction. MASSIVE SPOILERS await you ahead. So, do yourself a favor: if you haven’t seen Avengers: Endgame already, see it. Immediately. If you have any fondness for any of the films in this massive franchise, there’s no way you’ll be disappointed. Once you’re in the know, come back and check out the rest of this review.

Sound good? Okay. Let’s push forward.

. . . . .

Where Infinity War brought the comic book action early and often, Endgame’s opening moments are more meditative and somber. Our heroes have just faced a crushing loss. They’re still reeling from the devastation of Thanos’s infamous Finger-Snap Heard ‘round the Universe. Nothing will ever be the same.

After staging an effectively heart-wrenching opening scene, giving us a brief glimpse at Hawkeye’s family life before his wife and kids fade into ash, the Russos keep the mood low-key and mournful for the duration of the film’s first act. Then we get one of Endgame’s earliest and best twists: within the film’s first twenty minutes, the Avengers find Thanos and discover he’s destroyed the Infinity Stones to prevent anyone from undoing his monstrous deed. In an empty gesture, Thor chops off the purple dude’s head. It’s a brilliant way to kick things off, throwing the audience for a loop and suggesting an ‘anything goes’ vibe to keep us on the edge of our seats.

The story jumps ahead five years(!!) to find our heroes scattered and broken, attempting to mend together the pieces in a world still devastated by its new reality. I loved that the Russos let us wallow in our heroes’ misery for a bit. You really get a sense of the loss they’ve experienced, that the entire world has experienced. These scenes offer some wonderful character beats and conversations, something that has always elevated Marvel above the rest of the pack.

Scott Lang, a.k.a. Ant-Man, escapes the Quantum Realm (you saw Ant-Man and the Wasp, right?) to discover a significantly altered world. But he brings a message of hope with him: the duration of time he experienced in the Quantum Realm was only 5 hours, suggesting the potential for time travel. Maybe they can find a way to fix the devastation Thanos has wrought by traveling back in time?

P.S. Can I just take a moment to talk about how much I love Paul Rudd in this movie? Ant-Man has been on the periphery of the MCU’s big events and to see him take on such a big role in this movie was a huge thrill.

This glimmer of hope inspires the band to get back together and it’s genuinely surprising where some of them have ended up. Bruce Banner has finally made peace with his meaner, greener side, resulting in Professor Hulk, a version of the character that maintains Banner’s intelligence and personality. Thor never overcame his grief and has spent the past five years descending into drunken slobbery and gaining a significant amount of weight in the process. This provides one of the film’s best sight gags. Plus, it’s maintained throughout! Kudos to you, Russos!

And then we have Mr. Tony Stark himself, the key to figuring out how to make time travel work. But he’s moved on. He and Pepper have an adorable daughter. He has absolutely zero desire to lose what he has. Ultimately the realization that he can save the lives of countless billions - including one surrogate son Peter Parker - drives him to support the cause.

Endgame’s 2nd act centers around the newly reassembled Avengers time-traveling into the past to gather the Infinity Stones, bring them to their future and use them to ‘un-snap’ their fallen comrades. These sequences are fun and light on their feet. They’re especially effective in lieu of the grim opening scenes.

Here’s the thing, though: As much as I love this portion of the film and the way the time travel stuff is handled, I couldn’t help feeling there was a general lack of consequence to everything that happened during this sequence. Even when things skew from the team’s set plan, it doesn’t feel like a significant snag or an insurmountable obstacle. These moments are treated as minor annoyances before our heroes carry on with a new solution, nary breaking their strides or a sweat in the process.

It’s all fun in a Back to the Future Part II kind of way, but it’s treated more as an extended comedy bit than anything else, and to a certain extent, this robs Endgame of some level of suspense. Plus, it’s time travel. Once you throw time travel into the mix, all bets are off, and I couldn’t help shaking that feeling. After all, what’s to stop them from using this plot device again and again in the future, consequences be damned?

At the very least, the wackiness of the time travel sequence is balanced with some great character beats. I loved Thor’s tender moment with his mom. I loved Captain America vs. Captain America. I loved that Tony gets a sincere heart to heart with his dad, offering some much-needed closure. Robert Downey Jr. has never been anything less than wonderful in this role, but his performance in Endgame might take the cake. Honestly, everyone brings their A-game to the table and these moments ground the sequence, keeping it from getting too bonkers.

This sequence also balanced with a genuinely tragic moment: Black Widow sacrifices herself to get the Soul Stone. I don’t know why this scene has been stirring up some people, because here’s the thing: this moment works perfectly. Natasha (Black Widow) and Clint (Hawkeye) travel to Vormir to obtain the Soul Stone. As established in Infinity War, the only way to obtain said stone is to sacrifice the thing you love most. Clint’s willing to take the plunge. He’s become a monster in the five years since his family’s disappearance (but an awesome, katana-wielding monster) and he doesn’t feel he deserves to see them again. Natasha knows this isn’t true and she’s willing to sacrifice herself to ensure Clint gets his happy ending. After all, he saved her all those years ago. It’s time to return the favor. It’s heartbreaking, but it feels right and Scarlett Johansson and Jeremy Renner sell every minute.

The plan is a success, but it’s not without it’s snags. Past Thanos ends up getting involved when past Nebula tunes into future Nebula’s wifi and begins broadcasting everything future Nebula has seen, including the Avengers’ time travel plan. Thanos gets worked up into a tizzy and he and past Nebula devise a plan to get him into the Avengers’ future so he can ensure everyone snapped out of existence stays snapped out of existence. Also, why not wipe out everyone else in the process just for good measure? Because that’s what big, angry, purple maniacs do. Don’t question it.

Is it a bit weird that the Thanos the Avengers face isn’t the same Thanos so carefully fleshed out in Infinity War? Yeah, a little bit. To be honest, it makes things feel kind of impersonal. This Thanos feels more like the mysterious being teased in dozens of MCU post-credits sequence than the layered, thoughtful villain of the previous film. It’s a bit of a bummer, but it is what it is.

Ultimately, my biggest gripe with Endgame is the same gripe caused by Infinity War’s conclusion. We already knew the disintegrated heroes were going to come back for their obligatory sequels. Their arrival during Endgame’s epic battle to end all epic battles feels inevitable more than surprising.

And, look, let me be clear: Endgame’s climax is the ultimate superhero big battle you’ve been dreaming of since Nick Fury first name-dropped the ‘Avengers Initiative.’ I went nuts with the best of them when all our heroes returned from the abyss for this ultimate showdown, so understand my next criticism comes from a place of love. Once all the heroes show up, the stakes disappear. I didn’t have any doubt the Avengers would win. As a result, the climax is robbed of its suspense. It’s basically fan service to the nth degree, which again, I’d like to emphasize I was totally cool with. It just prevents the battle from conjuring up any emotional depth.

This isn’t The Return of the King. It’s not the Battle of Hogwarts or the Death Star trench run or even the first Avengers’ Battle for New York. It’s a big, flashy special effects extravaganza overflowing with crowd-pleasing beats, but lacking in genuine (here’s this word again) consequence. Again, I want to emphasize that I loved every second of it, but there’s a significant lack of loss during these scenes. Ultimately, Tony Stark sacrifices himself to save the universe and it’s absolutely BRILLIANT and heart-wrenching, but no one else seems in danger. Iron Man dies so that dozens of franchises can live on.

The remaining twenty minutes or so of Endgame are low key. We witness Tony’s emotional funeral, torches are passed (go, Sam Wilson, go!) and some unexpected-slash-exciting team-ups are teased (Fat Thor with the Guardians of the Galaxy? I am SO in.) But it’s during these quiet scenes that the Russos skillfully remind us what has always mattered the most: the characters. And I’m not going to lie, it’s difficult not to get choked up when Steve Rogers, a man who has sacrificed so much for the greater good, finally gets his happy ending, dancing the day away with the love of his life.

Big finales don’t get much more enjoyable or fulfilling than this. Marvel’s Cinematic Universe will go on and on and on. Inevitably, its quality will wane and fade, but we can rest easy knowing that the heroes that kicked everything off got the send-off they deserved. It might not be perfect, but it’s pretty damn great. Most importantly, it’s satisfying.

With the Infinity Saga, Marvel Studios has accomplished something extraordinary. They’ve touched countless millions across the globe without compromising the artistic quality of this multi-billion dollar franchise. We can rage on and on about Disney’s domination and how everything is just a corporate product and blah, blah, blah, but we’d be ignoring the fact that they got to where they are because they honored their source material and went out of their way to give the fans something special.

So to Kevin Feige and the entire team at Marvel Studios, cast, crew, writers, bean pushers, etc., I’d like to say thank you. You’ve earned every record-breaking penny.

Written by Shawn Eastridge (@yayshawndorman)

With his second feature Us, writer/director Jordan Peele seems determined to avoid the dreaded ‘sophomore slump’ by any means necessary. Thankfully, the film affirms Peele’s status as one of our most exciting new filmmakers, serving as an excellent example of what a great director can do with a larger canvas. But while Peele’s ambitions are admirable, the end result is a bit of a mess - overwrought, sprawling and lacking focus. Us should leave horror fans feeling satisfied, but don’t be surprised if you’re left scratching your head wondering not only what it all means but whether or not it actually makes any sense.

The concept is Twilight Zone madness at its finest (and further confirmation Peele is the right guy to spearhead the new TV revival). During a summer vacation, the Wilson family, consisting of concerned mother Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o), wisecracking daddy Gabriel (Winston Duke) and their two kids (Shahadi Wright Joseph and Evan Alex), ends up being terrorized by a family of nightmare-inducing doppelgangers. As the Wilsons attempt to survive the evening, a horrifying plot begins to unfold, one with wide-ranging ramifications far beyond anything the Wilsons could possibly imagine.

Peele takes his precious time getting to the fun and games, sometimes to the film’s detriment. While the opening scene is masterfully crafted with hypnotizing, nightmarish imagery, the scenes in which we’re introduced to the Wilsons are less effective. There’s a lot of clunky exposition with characters detailing key bits of information in stilted dialogue exchanges:

‘Hey, **INSERT CHARACTER NAME HERE** Remember when you used to **INSERT CHARACTER TRAIT THAT WILL CLEARLY PLAY A BIG PART IN THE UNFOLDING STORY.**’ 

Or 

‘Did I ever tell you about the time I **INSERT TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCE THAT WILL SHED LIGHT ON CHARACTER LATER IN FILM.**’

Yeah. It’s awkward.

Once the plodding first act gives way to the film’s centerpiece, the nail-biting home invasion sequence, the pace picks up tremendously. It’s during these moments that Peele’s talents truly shine. As with Get Out, Peele demonstrates a knack for striking and memorable imagery. He has a strong grasp on conveying the terror of things that go bump in the night and understands how to convey these elements to their utmost effectiveness. His ability to wring every ounce of suspense from each moment is on full display and he deftly balances the scares with expertly placed punchlines and payoffs.  

But undercutting the film’s thrills is Peele’s unfortunate reliance on a number of cliched horror tropes and logic gaps. Characters behave in the most nonsensical of ways, wandering off on their own with a monster on the loose or back into a dangerous situation no intelligent person would dare re-enter. These lapses in reason fall in line with some of the genre’s worst tendencies and it’s odd to find them in a film that sets itself up as being more thoughtful than your standard horror fodder.

It’s also a bit of a bummer that we don’t learn much about the Wilson family beyond a surface level. Thankfully, Peele has assembled a wonderful ensemble to pick up the slack. Nyong’o leads the pack in full force, delivering not one, but two stunning performances as both Adelaide and her doppelganger Red. Everyone in this cast is great, but it’s Nyong’o’s work that will stick with you long after the end credits roll.

Thematically, there’s a lot to unpack. Probably too much. I have no doubt Peele has something important to say about the country’s current state, how social class affects one’s ultimate successes, how the dangers of turning a blind eye to past failures will be our undoing, etc., but it’s all too muddled and unfocused to come across effectively. It’s as if he made a list of every theme and idea he wanted to tackle, put them into a blender and dumped the contents out on screen without defining or refining anything. Upon further scrutiny, many of Peele’s twists and turns begin to unravel, as does the rest of the film. It’s puzzle pieces without a box to offer the ‘big picture.’

Maybe there never was a box, you say. Maybe that was Peele’s intention all along. Sure, maybe. But if he wanted to leave audiences in a state of uncertainty, why did he opt to include so many drawn-out monologues that over-explain certain plot points and character motivations? So much is carefully described to the audience to the point that it’s reminiscent of the classic Bond villains waxing poetic about their plans for world domination. 

So yeah, maybe Peele bit off more than he could chew, but here’s the thing: I applaud him for doing so. He really went for broke and that’s something to be admired, especially in an era where original properties are getting short shrift in favor of massive blockbusters. Peele could have played it safe, but instead, he decided to make something kind of bonkers. 

Us might not be a horror masterpiece, but at least it’s trying and I’m excited to see what else Peele has up his sleeve.

Cats are so dramatic…