Zootopia 2

The best part of this movie is the visual jokes and puns. Some of them are genuinely laugh-out-loud funny. And some of the verbal jokes hit the mark as well. But a lot of the rest of this film comes across as very boilerplate animated feature: not especially clever, not particularly innovative in terms of its visuals, and built too much around presenting bland homilies at the end of the story. You get the sense throughout the running time that the point of this exercise from the start was to preach to the audience, and to make the sermon more palatable by wrapping it up in a number of revved up action sequences. In that sense, it’s kind of like how you give a pill to an animal (appropriately enough): you stick the pill into some squishy treat and hope the creature will swallow it whole. To be sure, the film is not boring or without entertainment value; you can watch the movie and stay mostly engaged from start to finish. You might find yourself straying a bit here and there, and you might consider the plot to be low stakes and slightly nonsensical—but most of those watching it will be children anyway, and we all know how uncritical they can be. So it’s mostly harmless amusement, though hardly anything more than that, and certainly nothing particularly memorable. It’s not all happening at this zoo, but I do believe there’s just enough here to make do. 

One Battle After Another

Well, that’s an interesting concept for a movie: make a film about characters whom only a crazy person would find sympathetic. I guess this is what happens when you start from a position of making sure you have the correct politics, and then work on developing the story from there. That applies especially so when those correct politics echo the most deranged fever dreams of campus justice warriors. The result here is that the story’s villains are plainly villainous, but the putative heroes are simply bundles of uncontrolled animal urges who are not any more admirable than the other side. Other relatively minor issues grow out of a muddled timeline—the tale clearly has contemporary happenings on its mind, but includes a time shift that requires an origin point much further back in the day—and a central relationship that is preposterous on its face. So much for the problems. On the other hand, one must acknowledge that the plot has good pacing, the performances are solid all around, the script does not shy away from any particular difficulties, and—lastly but certainly not least—the core story in its human dimensions overcomes the film’s self-inflicted wounds to grow increasingly more compelling as the narrative moves forward. Also, the movie deserves credit for presenting a most compelling argument for the fact that security and liberty are diametrically opposed forces; increased emphasis on the former necessarily undermines the latter. That’s a political statement that is very much worth making these days, more so perhaps than the blanket canonization of one population cohort versus the demonization of another. So while this flick would hardly qualify as a Best Picture nominee (let alone winner) but for it tickling the strings of Hollywood’s preferred viewpoints, it must merit consideration as a good to maybe even excellent film—it’s just not an example of greatness. So don’t take that PURR as more than it really is. As usual, the real neverending battle is the fight to get people to stop overhyping whatever catches their momentary, acculturated but unrelated fancy. 

Mr. Holmes

Ian McKellen makes a pretty good old Sherlock, so much do that this film makes one wonder what he might have done with the role in his younger days. I doubt he could have unseated the legendary Jeremy Brett, but he could have been at least an adequate substitute. Here he plays the consulting detective in his last days, approaching death and loaded with regrets, and the whole package delivers both the keenness we’ve come to expect from the famous man and a vulnerability that reminds us that even the greatest of humankind are not without their flaws (even if the representation is of a fictional character). Laura Linney as the old Holmes’s housekeeper and Milo Parker as the housekeeper's son and the detective's unlikely compatriot provide quality supporting work. The story delivers the kind of logical flourishes one expects from a tale of Sherlock solving—or in this instance, trying to remember—a long ago case, though given the circumstances of Holmes being in his deep twilight, the plot simply could not include the level of action and danger that were hallmarks of the canon. No matter—you just have to be satisfied with a movie that entertains and intrigues on a quieter, subtler level than the usual. There’s reason enough to stay on the trail of this flick. 

Aguirre, the Wrath of God

Do yourself a favor: watch this film in the subtitled original German, not the dubbed version. The crazy comes through much more forcefully in the German. Once again Werner Herzog offers the audience a study in hubris, and ultimately madness, in the setting of the Amazon jungle. There’s less a story here than a continuous thread of narrative travelogue as a group of would-be conquistadors and their various associates journey in search of El Dorado and presumed fortune and fame. Klaus Kinski shows us again how to make madness and villainy a featured element of a movie that rarely rises above a slow-moving pace yet never loses the viewer's attention either. (The most exciting scene comes right at the beginning, when we see the group descending an Andean path the looks like an unreal staircase—a visual that sets the tone for the entire rest of the movie's tableau of existing in the world of the unreal.) Again, as with Fitzcarraldo—the two films are almost a 1 and 1A exacta entry of South American man vs. nature studies—you get a movie that many people simply won’t get, but that those with adventurous viewing habits will appreciate for its unique vision and contemplative frame of mind. And if nothing else you’ll learn a valuable lesson: don’t trust crazy conquistadors. 

Mean Girls (2024)

You hear a lot lately about how high school kids are different these days, how all the cliques and stratification and such are no longer the norm in that milieu. Well, if that’s true, the people who make movies and musicals have not caught up to the current secondary school zeitgeist. There’s a remarkable amount of overlap between this story and that ultimate expression of the teenage dramascape, Heathers—which first came into being way back in 1987. True, this work is the derivative of a musical that was based on a movie of the same name from 2004, so perhaps it has a permission slip for being behind the times socially. Or, maybe just maybe, things have never really changed all that much. Whatever the case, this film offers a distinct and enjoyable take on the familiar story of a new girl who tangles with the local power base, here set to a musical score that mostly works, with several strong songs and only a few minor misses with a couple of numbers. The script offers a generous dose of genuine laughs, while the performances of the young ladies are generally first rate (not to mention that the Plastics are gorgeous, which certainly helps the viewer maintain interest). Ultimately, the tale ends with its heart in the right place, all while presenting just enough divergence from the original story to give the new version a sense of being at least a bit fresh. I don’t know if today’s teens really are more accepting and compassionate than they used to be, or if the meanness still reigns, but at least in cinema the genuine still trumps the plastic. 

Bugonia

Well, they never showed that on the history channel. Those of us who are well-versed in the various themes of paranormal paranoia will have little trouble navigating this narrative, but I suspect many others will find this story to be a real head-spinner, possibly so much so that it may take them out of the movie. If one focuses on the dynamics of the performances, that should steady the metaphorical ground under the viewer’s feet—and that is a good strategy, given that the verbal and emotional duel between Emma Stone and Jesse Plemons forms the core of this movie’s appeal. Admittedly, there isn’t a lot else to work with here, as the film is a study in interiority, but the leads do such a good job of giving their characters life, detail and plausibility that you can ignore the bits of the plot that are clearly telegraphed and the ones that don’t entirely add up. (You'll be helped in that if you don’t have a rigidly logical mind, and most people don’t). So, good acting, a brisk pace, and a tolerable amount of preachiness add up to a solid cinematic trip—whether you’re of this earth or not. 

Sinners

There’s an old saying: a point in every direction is no point at all. I heard that saying echoing in my mind as I watched this film. I’m not really sure what this movie wants to be. A horror show? A study of race relations? An ode to music? A period piece? Crime drama? Yes, it’s all those things, but trying to do too much can make a muddle. So we have here, to a minor extent, though to be fair the story at its core never loses coherence; you don’t get lost in this narrative. There is one other problem: the gimmick of having Michael B. Jordan play dual roles means that it can be difficult to tell if you’re watching the character Smoke or Stack in crucial moments. Having said all that, there’s much to admire here, too. The performances are splendid all around, and the cinematography is absolutely gorgeous throughout. And most of the music is wonderful, too, though occasionally the attempts at genre cross-pollination detract rather than add to the tableau. So certainly, this is a fine movie and worthy of praise—I just wish people would let it rest at that, rather than go overboard and declare it to be the greatest thing that ever happened in the history of movies, if not humanity. When we commit that sin, it really does make one want to sing the blues.