Category Archives: Reviews

Movie Review: OBSESSION shows why men in love and wishing sticks should never mix

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Horror, like every other genre, has certain foundational narrative concepts that are simply timeless. They’re reliable, and when they’re used right they can make well-trodden territory feel like untouched terrain. Curry Barker’s Obsession finds success with one such concept: the cursed wish.

On the surface, the film can be seen as a relationship-focused version of The Monkey’s Paw by W.W. Jacobs, where a mummified monkey’s paw grants wishes in a strictly literal sense. But that’s selling the movie short. What Barker achieved with his debut feature film is something way more special.

Obsession

Obsession follows Bear (Michael Johnston), a guy that’s head over heels for his co-worker Nikki (masterfully played by Inde Navarrette). Bear finally decides to declare his love for Nikki, prompting him to go to a store to buy something nice for her to sweeten the deal. There he finds a retro-packaged wishing stick called One Wish Willow.

When he fails at expressing his true feelings for her, he uses the One Wish Willow on impulse. He wishes Nikki would love him more than anyone in the world. The wish made manifest, Nikki falls for Bear. But Bear is quick to learn that getting what you want is not all it’s cut out to be, and that it invites in a very cruel kind of darkness.

While performances are strong all around, it’s Inde Navarrette’s Nikki that really sets the movie apart. Her presence is overwhelming and painful, a constant reminder that the wish only ever benefits Bear and no one else. She gives a very physical performance that makes you think something else is behind the wheel, and that the real her is suffering inside her body somewhere.

This comes through in certain moments, where the real Nikki briefly regains control of her body. It works to remind audiences that the wish stripped her of the ability to consent to anything, that she’s doomed to comply. It’s refreshing to see someone tell the story through raw emotion and physicality rather than through clumsy exposition and heavy-handed dialogue.

Obsession

Michael Johnston’s approach to Bear, on the other hand, centers on male entitlement in matters of love, especially in terms of how immature and childlike it can be. Love for Bear is a need, one that can easily outstay its welcome and then become undesirable should his idealized version of it steer away from the path. It’s myopic. Nikki’s obsession is great in the beginning, but like all honeymoon phases, it eventually fizzles out. Bear then decides its time to take back the wish, only he can’t.

Rather than turning the relationship into an exploration and a condemnation of male toxicity in general, it instead goes for something more specific. It addresses the misleading idea that male obsession is innocent, an intense but justified expression of love. Bear sees himself as the wronged party after his attempt at telling Nikki he loves her falls through. Rather than owning his failure, he instead considers himself deserving of a wish that gives him what he wants.

When his friends point out that Nikki might be going through a mental crisis and that some people think he’s taking advantage of the situation, it hits harder. In fact, it perfectly describes the situation. He is taking advantage of a situation in which Nikki is not in control of her actions. The one important detail here is that the crisis was brought upon by Bear himself, through some terrible form of magic, and that it still doesn’t excuse him from reaping the one-sided benefits of it.

Bear’s resistance to Nikki after things go from weird to terrifying exposes how men condition their version of love to how comfortable and agreeable they feel within the couple dynamic. The moment that changes, it’s seen as acceptable to want to cut ties and move on, leaving the “crazy girlfriend” behind.

Obsession

Johnston plays all this out with considerable victim energy. It’s all something that happened to him rather than something he brought upon himself. Director Barker is careful not to turn Nikki into a monster to drive the point more clearly here, so that the spotlight lands squarely on Bear as the person responsible for this nightmare. Johnston takes full advantage of this, too. He indulges the character’s more pathetic side to show how a sad and shy man can turn a woman into a deeply tortured soul without any sort of agency.

Barker and his team further distance Nikki from monstrosity by resorting to shadows and clever makeup work to establish that she didn’t willingly become this new version of herself. In fact, if there’s a monster in any of this, then Bear is its Frankenstein. The effect is haunting, and it gives the story a more sinister feel that ramps up the terror.

The only complaint that can be levied at Obsession is that the lore behind the One Wish Willow is minimal and played mostly for laughs. This isn’t bad necessarily, but it sometimes breaks with the logic of the story. There is one scene that uses a bit of lore to great effect, but it’s the exception. The point was certainly to focus on the wish itself, to not explain everything away. But a little goes a long way, especially as it’s very easy to go to a store and buy one of the wish sticks in the movie. The power behind the object itself is so great that it deserved more exploration.

Regardless, Obsession cements itself as one of the best horror movies of the year with its biting criticism of desperate men consumed by hopeless love. It makes the argument that misplaced notions of innocence can turn romance into a prison. It’s more nuanced than expected, and it greatly benefits from specificity. In horror, wishes often end up being shortcuts to Hell. Obsession does its part in reinforcing this idea, and it’ll make you question just how much you should trust someone who tells you they’ve been secretly in love with you for a long time.

Movie Review: PASSENGER doesn’t need to reinvent the wheel to be entertaining

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Reviews have gone down a strange road as of late. Something is either a seismic genre-shifting piece of art or a complete waste of time that should be shunned for making us interact with it.

In the past few years alone, horror has been reinvented or redefined a few dozen times. Shelby Oaks became the scariest movie of the 21st century (it’s not, but it can be scary), Talk to Me changed the way we make movies about haunted objects (it didn’t), and Longlegs became an instant crime horror classic (okay, this one’s deserved).

Somehow, we’ve lost the middle. Sometimes, all we need is a well-made vampire movie or haunted house story that plays the greatest hits just right.

PASSENGER

This is the spot where André Øvredal’s Passenger comfortably sits in. It’s a movie that manages to do something that’s already hard to pull off: entertain. A scary demon, reliable pacing, and a strong finale is all it needed to achieve that.

Passenger follows Maddie (Lou Llobell) and Tyler (Jacob Scipio), a couple that decide to give up life in Brooklyn for a life on the road. They get an RV, turn it into their new home, and drive. Along the way, they come across a gruesome car crash. Maddie sees three strange long scratches on the car they came upon.

Shortly after, Maddie starts suspecting that something decided to hitch a ride with them when they stopped at the scene. Things quickly escalate from there as the demonic entity ramps up the violence the longer the ride gets, as if it were enjoying it.

The movie has a great demon in the form of the Passenger (played by Joseph Lopez). It’s an unholy thing that is not afraid to lean into blasphemy. Its design is simple and more terrifying because of it. He’s basically a corpse dressed as a priest with longish grey hair and a gruesome face. A broken smile hangs over his face most of the time, revealing the absolute pleasure he gets from haunting his victims.

PASSENGER

If fans obsess over the Passenger aggressively enough, it has the potential to be the kind of monster franchises are built on. It possesses a strong silhouette and a classically-inclined sense of terror, the kind that made B-list monsters such as the Street Schizo from Prince of Darkness (played by Alice Cooper) and the Scarecrow from the 1981 TV movie Dark Night of the Scarecrow so beloved by fans.

Every time the Passenger is around, torturing Maddie and Tyler, the movie’s great. Øvredal proves to be highly skilled at producing a terrifying image, and he’s not afraid to get creative with jump scares. There’s a scene involving a movie projector that leads to one of the creepiest horror images I’ve seen in a while.

Those who’ve seen Øvredal’s previous films, namely The Autopsy of Jane Doe and The Last Voyage of The Demeter, already know he’s one of the most visually fascinating directors working in the genre today. Passenger further cements that, driving up anticipation for whichever project he decides to settle on next.

Unfortunately, the movie does stumble in the script department. Screenwriters Zachary Donohue and T.W. Burgess forgot to make Maddie and Tyler interesting enough to really care for them that much up to the point where the bad stuff starts happening. Commitment issues are shoehorned in along with religious themes that never fully blossom.

PASSENGER

The biggest letdown is the wasted potential of the RV culture/life on the road component of the story. Maddie and Tyler jump from RV campsite to RV campsite on their journey, giving viewers a look at what that type of lifestyle entails. This is where Maddie meets a woman that sheds some light on the thing that hitched a ride with them. She’s played well enough by Melissa Leo, but she’s mostly a vehicle for exposition.

There are also some key bits of hobo history attached to the mystery behind the Passenger that could’ve really shined had they been given the time to influence the couple’s attempts at getting rid of their demonic backseat rider.

In a sense, the bones of a truly great horror movie were there. Sadly, they got lost in the movie’s insistence on sticking too close to traditional conventions. Maybe it’s time we put other types of characters in leading spots. Passenger would’ve been better served by more inquisitive characters that were eager to dive deeper into the demon’s legends of the road.

Complaints aside, Passenger still manages to ramp up the horror at the right moments to guarantee entertainment. The demon is a true highlight that could end up in a sequel or as a collectible action figure in shops everywhere in the near future. The movie might not mark a watershed moment in horror, but it doesn’t have to. Scaring people into keeping a closer eye on the road at night for fear of picking up an unwanted guest is more than enough.

Movie Review: Play Along with The Lost Man in EXIT 8

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Video game adaptations, by definition, wrest control away from players. To an extent, they ask them to watch the same story they already played through but with less direct input. Gone is the anxiety of making a big jump to finish a level. Gone is the tension of inadvertently walking into a boss fight with limited ammunition. Simply put, video game adaptations turn players into spectators.

Genki Kawamura’s Exit 8, an adaptation of the walking simulator/puzzle horror game hit of the same name (developed and published by Kotake Create), finds success by leaning into the spectator aspect of the experience to foster interaction. Rather than turning the story into a 90-minute long cutscene, it opts for a quiet and spaciously-framed affair that audiences can still participate in by spotting important details along with the characters.

EXIT 8

Like the game, Exit 8 takes place in a looping passageway in the Japanese metro system. While the game doesn’t define or describe a specific character per se, the movie follows a man (played by Kazunari Ninomiya) who learns his ex-girlfriend is pregnant just as he’s getting off the train. While attempting to exit the subway station, he suddenly finds himself in a loop of corridors. There, he sees a sign with a set of rules printed on it that must be followed to escape this punishing liminal space.

To reach the real exit, the man must search for anomalies in the repeating passageways eight times in a row before he’s allowed to leave. Failure to identify these anomalies, or lack thereof, results in a reset that sends the man back to level 0 (the first run-through). If a poster or a door is in the wrong position, walk back to the rules poster to progress. If nothing’s changed, complete the loop.

The man meets a walking man and a kid that might or might not be lost in the loop as well. Whether they’re anomalies or not depends on the cues and hints the movie dishes out at key moments.

This is where director Kawamura finds an opening to make sure some of Exit 8’s gameplay elements make it into the movie. A lot of this relies on the observational aspects of the source material. Posters, signs, doors, and other important details are few but crucial to progression, so it’s easy to start looking for anomalies as an audience member while the man attempts to make it through all the stages. If the character misses out on anything you caught, an incredible sense of anxiety creeps in. You want to scream at the screen to point out the differences before it’s too late.

EXIT 8

Kawamura is smart to go for wide-shots here. We’re given a great big look at everything that could be hiding or pointing to a clue, and the movie does well to stick to the open and strikingly bright dimensions of the corridors that make up the loop. Nothing’s ever really obscured, which means the horror resides in what’s seen rather than what’s unseen. As a video game movie, it does what no other film of its kind ever truly manages to pull off: it lets people play the game from their vantage point, if only to an extent.

The only thing that undercuts the terror of the liminal subway loop is the movie’s insistence on hammering a message on indecisiveness, which hinges on the news of the pregnancy that hovers over the main character. It tries too hard to turn the loop into a metaphor for anxiety regarding big life decisions, detracting from the mystery.

What made the situation so unsettling was its random nature. That it simply forced someone to play a game about noticing strange alterations in a self-repeating space should’ve been enough. The message is just too blunt, and it compromises the creepiness factor. In fact, it takes away the bit of control it had afforded audiences so well beforehand up to that point.

EXIT 8

Exit 8 should be commended for adapting a video game while still giving audiences the chance to feel like active players in it. Its ending betrays some of the good work done up till then, but it doesn’t diminish its accomplishments entirely. If anything, it’ll make you want to pick up a controller and look for anomalies yourself in the original game. Hell, it might even make you look for anomalies in actual subway stations as well.

Movie Review: Lee Cronin’s The Mummy copies and pastes a familiar curse

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Whenever the name of a director is made part of a movie’s official title, it’s only fair to expect the presentation of a unique vision. The name signals the creation of something only they can make, something that sets them apart from the rest. Lee Cronin has earned that distinction rather quickly, with only three feature films in the bag (plus a handful of short films and some TV work thrown in for good measure). Evil Dead Rise (2023) was the movie that turned him into a name, and it’s now attached to the title of the latest attempt at reviving a classic Universal monster: The Mummy.

Lee Cronin’s The Mummy is a strange film, more in terms of concept than in actual content. It seeks to reinterpret the Egyptian creature in radical fashion, and it does. It changes everything, from the way the bandages work to the purpose of mummification. Unfortunately, it borrows too heavily from other horror classics to come off as original. Ultimately, the movie suffers too much for it, making for something way less original than the title suggests.

Lee Cronin’s The Mummy

The story follows TV reporter Charlie Cannon (Jack Reynor) and his family while he’s on assignment in Egypt. One day, a strange woman lures his daughter Katie (Natalie Grace) away from their home. Detective Dalia Zaki (May Calamawy) is brought in to investigate Katie’s disappearance, a woman that hopes to specialize in missing persons cases.

Katie is found eight years later, inside an ancient sarcophagus. She should be dead, but she isn’t. She’s malnourished, disfigured, and near catatonic. Charlie takes her home to Albuquerque, New Mexico, where he hopes the warmth afforded by family can help her heal and recover. But something’s inside Katie, and it’s eager to spread its evil as cruelly as possible.

Cronin should be applauded for approaching The Mummy with a mind to push certain established ideas to their limit. There are no corpses wrapped up in white wraps shambling around in this one, no killer scarabs or locust swarms. The story swaps labyrinthian pyramids and quicksand for a two-story house in a New Mexican desert. Things are more intimate as a result, more focused on family rather than on the spread of an ancient evil possessed by an insatiable hunger.

The problem lies in Cronin’s decision to use the building blocks of long-established, highly recognizable films in the process of crafting his own. It’s done to the point of compromising his own attempts at innovation. To watch Lee Cronin’s The Mummy is to watch a combination of The Exorcist, Se7en, and Cronin’s own Evil Dead Rise. Of the three, though, Evil Dead is the most obvious, most notably in terms of Katie’s look and behavior.

Lee Cronin’s The Mummy

In Evil Dead Rise, Cronin presents the Deadites (the possessed humans affected by the Necronomicon’s incantations) as decaying bags of flesh with a penchant for self-mutilation. They’re gleefully evil, happy to be spreading death and mayhem. They’re disturbingly raunchy, too, as they taunt and mock the living with grotesqueries that are meant to drive them mad.

The possessed Katie in The Mummy is essentially a Deadite. She moves, talks, and taunts her family in almost the same way as the possessed in Evil Dead. A few pages are taken from The Exorcist’s own possessed girl, Regan MacNeil (Linda Blair), especially during scenes when Katie is on her bed, staring blankly at the people around her before snapping with a bite to the forearm or a headbutt. The gist of it is, a combination of very obvious influences doesn’t always lead to something original.

Se7en comes in during a particular scene in Egypt involving a violent run-in with a key suspect and a box. This one’s not as blatant as it is in Katie’s case, but the nudge is more like a push here too. Detective Zaki gets a chance to shine in this sequence, but then she’s just asked to homage a scene from another movie more with little space afforded for originality.

It also bears mentioning that there was a more interesting movie in Zaki’s story. Turning The Mummy into a dark and gritty detective story could’ve led to some interesting places, complete with an opportunity to perhaps explore other aspects of Egypt that get sidelined way too often in these kinds of films.

Lee Cronin’s The Mummy

While Lee Cronin’s The Mummy has some intense horror sequences and some interesting characters at its core, it’s more of a Frankenstein’s Monster of a movie. It’s multiple parts, all done better elsewhere, grafted together under the guise of a new interpretation. That said, if you watch the movie as strictly a new Evil Dead entry, you should be fine.

The Running Man is Strongest When it Focuses on its Race Against the Clock but Fumbles in the Third Act

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The Running Man

A film starring America’s newest goofy, yet sexy leading man, directed by one of the UK’s most energetic and stylish directors of the 21st century, and featuring anti-fascist and surveillance state themes should be an no-brainer good time at the movies. Well, in the words (and voice) of many a game show host, “Wrong!” Before it all falls apart in a third act that badly needs a rewrite ,The Running Man, which is an adaptation of the 1982 Stephen King novel and not a remake of the 1987 Paul Michael Glaser/Arnold Schwarzenegger, kicks off with plenty of rage, heart, and over-the-top satire. Ben Richards (Glen Powell) is press ganged into joining The Running Man, a deathly game show so he can get flu medicine for his daughter because he is blacklisted from employment for talking about unionization. Producer Dan Killian (Josh Brolin) and host Bobby T (A very fun Colman Domingo) initially set up Ben as a heel, but he ends up becoming a kind of folk hero while he runs, evades, shoots, and initially catches a cab up the Eastern seaboard.

The Running Man starts out as a stylish and zippy film in Edgar Wright’s signature style (There’s a futuristic Primal Scream cover/remix during the tryout scene.) with a melancholic undercurrent. Ben’s wife (A compelling, yet underutilized Jayme Lawson) are truly the center of his world, and any threats against them lead to homicidal rage, which is why he’s still unemployed and cleans Killian’s clock before The Running Man even starts. The tight rope between sad and silly is a hard one to walk, especially as the film progresses, and we get into the world of Running Man truthers and Derry, Maine zine-makers. But until a fair pivotal plot moment towards the back third of the film, Wright and co-writer Michael Bacall nail the heightened violence, comedy, and emotional elements of the film using the road movie formula for interesting set pieces and perspectives on this world, which is sadly similar to ours. (I am never getting a self-driving car.)

However, as The Running Man progresses, some of its wit and charm start to run out, and it turns into a generic action thriller. This extends to the directing, editing, and cinematography, and at times, it doesn’t feel like an Edgar Wright film, but like something Hot Fuzz would poke fun at with its rapid cuts during action sequences and brutality with pizzazz. But The Running Man isn’t all fast and no furious, and there are some moments like a couple car chases and a set piece featuring the long awaited reunion of Wright and Michael Cera that remind you that it is about something and looks good while unpacking its themes. It’s a shame that the final one is so forgettable even with the help of classic Edgar Wright gag that lands verbally, but not visually.

Also, as it devolves into action and soap opera cliches, The Running Man loses its satirical bite even as Powell starts to resemble the merciless killer of the doctored television clips instead of the pissed off family man that he actually is. There are tough conversations about class, privilege, and the manipulative nature of the media between flights of bullets, but they don’t reach a strong conclusion as Edgar Wright, Bacall, and probably super-producer Edgar Wright battle with whether to have a happy, powerful, or something in-between ending. The Running Man is at its strongest when it’s a race against the clock road trip where you can’t trust anyone, and some of the conversations that Ben has with the folks that he meets on the run remind of less heightened ones with folks I don’t know as I try to figure out if they’re not into genocides and stripping away folks’ basic human rights. It definitely succeeds at having some explosive scenes at the micro-level, but The Running Man gets muddled when it tries to be about anything other than one man fighting a losing battle against a soulless enemy to save his family.

Although Glen Powell oozes with charisma, relatable anger at the state of the world, and delivers Michael Bacall and Wright’s dark one-liners with aplomb, The Running Man feels like a psy-op made by Paramount to show their investors that films with leftist and ACAB themes bomb at the box office so they can make more conservative rancher, Temu Sopranos in Oklahoma, and whatever the heck Landman is. It has a strong populist streak, and the road story is a nice spine until the third act when it goes off the rail, and sadly Edgar Wright can’t literally land the plane. I will say that this is the closest we’ll get to a big budget Judge Dredd film, and at times, it’s like that title’s “America” arc, but confined to the Northeast.

Overall Verdict: 5.0/10

Paramount Pictures provided Graphic Policy with a FREE screening for review

Fantastic Flops: The Fantastic Four: First Steps has a Decent Story and Charming Production Design

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Fantastic Four: First Steps

Even though the Fantastic Four comics kickstarted the creation of the Marvel Universe, their film adaptations have been critically maligned. In the “Fantastic Flops” series, I’m going back and re-evaluating the four previous Fantastic Four films and seeing if they’re a “Flop”, “Bop”, or “In-Between”.

To get the obvious out of the way, after 31 years of struggles and not-so-close calls, we finally have a good live action Fantastic Four film in the clunkily named The Fantastic Four: First Steps. (Franklin Richards is incredibly crucial to this film so I get why they did it though.) Veteran television director Matt Shakman (Wandavision, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia) and writers Josh Friedman, Eric Pearson, Jeff Kaplan, Ian Springer, and Kat Wood turn in an engaging, retro-futurist standalone yarn that honors the spirit of those early Jack Kirby and Stan Lee comics while adding psychological and ethical dilemmas that come from some of the more contemporary runs like Jonathan Hickman’s work in the early 2010s.

The best thing that Fantastic Four: First Steps has going for it is the production design. Kasra Farahani crafts a world where in the 1960s Marvel Comics only published Fantastic Four comics for the first four years of its existence instead of immediately expanding its universe and bringing back old superheroes like Captain America. Shakman uses breezy news reel montages to establish a utopian world that would make New Deal Democrats, flower children, and sci-fi fanzine readers all smile in perfect harmony. There is a sheen, but also a lived-in feel to the technology used by the Fantastic Four on their various missions as well as the Baxter Building and downtown Manhattan. It’s a shiny, happy world, but there are some rough edges like when Ben Grimm (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) goes to his old neighborhood in Yancy Street to get black and white cookies and perform feats of strength for kids at the local Hebrew school. (The Thing’s Jewish heritage is very much intact in this film.) The attention paid to the brave old/new world helps keeps the stakes real when a regal, yet slightly melancholy Silver Surfer (Julia Garner) heralds the coming of Galactus (Ralph Ineson) and the end of this universe. As a cherry on top, Michael Giacchino’s score perfectly blends soaring heroism and sci-fi exploration.

Let’s continue on to the casting. I didn’t love Joseph Quinn as Human Torch, and he doesn’t have the charisma that Chris Evans and Michael B. Jordan had in previous iterations of the character. Although charming in other roles, Pedro Pascal doesn’t quite pull off the universe’s smartest man, Reed Richards in the science speak sequences. This is really a difficult role to cast. I did find him endearing as a clueless, new dad and trying to override the part of his brain that treats everything like a problem to solve. Vanessa Kirby as Invisible Woman carries the film. She bring heart, humanity, diplomacy, and a mother’s love that turns a moment that could have been a deus ex machina, close the portal, and end the movie type sequence into something emotionally resonant. There’s a big “having it all”, second wave of feminism energy into the way that she’s written as Invisible Woman that fits the period as she is a mother, de facto team leader, and quite the diplomat as well. There’s a sequence where she smooths over a moral dilemma that should be required viewing in public relations courses.

So, if it only got the casting about half-right, then why does Fantastic Four: First Steps succeed where its predecessors failed? It is because Shakman and the writing team understands the Fantastic Four are at the best when they’re solving problems and not just punching bad guys. I love the impossible dilemma that is set for the team: choosing between giving Reed and Sue’s firstborn child to Galactus or giving the Earth to the Devourer. The preparation of Galactus’ invasion is actually one of the most underrated and engaging parts of the film. It’s entertaining watching Reed test all kinds of science and equations while Sue markets them to folks around the world. This is while Johnny Storm becomes a linguistics expert because he has a little crush on the Silver Surfer, and Ben Grimm has a crush of his own on Rachel (An always spectacular Natasha Lyonne) and connects with his neighborhood before the end of days. And when the initial plan fails, it’s fun to watch the team move and adjust on the fly. They’re like a well-oiled machine that’s been doing this for four years, helped usher in a utopian society, and of course, their next challenge is fighting God.

Another element that makes Fantastic Four: First Steps a successful film is the aura that Matt Shakman, the visual effects team, Garner, and Ineson give to the Silver Surfer and Galactus. As revealed in the trailers, the movie uses a comics-accurate design for Galactus, and I love how Ralph Ineson in both voice and motion capture plays the antagonist like a universal constant and force of nature, not a malevolent being. He really wishes he could stop doing this, but someone has to keep the scales balanced in the universe. It’s a similar situation with the tragic Shalla-Bal who acts as Galactus’ herald because she wants to keep her planet and children safe. I love the parallels that Shakman, the writers, Vanessa Kirby, and Julia Garner draw between the Silver Surfer and Invisible Woman, and the flashback scene is pure tragic poetry. It’s nice to see these iconic characters finally get their due in live action, and the writers wisely leave a door open for them to return. Also, hell yeah, the power cosmic!

Despite some less than stellar casting, jokes that unfortunately don’t land, and a return sequence from Galactus’ ship to Earth that drags on and on, The Fantastic Four: First Steps is an entertaining retro sci-fi blockbuster with clever world-building and memorable production design plus a multi-faceted lead performance from Vanessa Kirby as Susan Storm-Richards that makes up for the way the character was poorly written and portrayed in previous films. The battle against Galactus is fittingly epic, and it makes you want to pore over Jack Kirby splash pages or re-read those Jonathan Hickman trade paperbacks. Also, in a similar vein to its movie-mates Superman and Thunderbolts, it’s nice to have superhero films that tell a complete story and have decent character arcs instead of just trying to set up the next installment.

(P.S. I need a Disney Plus animated series in the style of the second post credits scene!)

Overall: 7.0
Verdict: Bop

Mini Review: Superman takes the sports film formula and throws in a dash of Silver, Bronze, and Copper Age of Comics kookiness

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Superman

Sometimes, the staff at Graphic Policy read more comics, sees more movies, and watch more tv than we’re able to get reviewed. When that happens you’ll see a weekly feature compiling reviews of the comics, or graphic novels, we just didn’t get a chance to write a full one for.

These are Graphic Policy’s Mini Reviews and Recommendations.

Logan

Superman (2025) – Boring, annoying people say Superman isn’t a good superhero because he’s “overpowered”. In Superman, writer/director James Gunn swats that notion away like the Man of Steel does to Lex Luthor’s Silicon Valley rent-a-goons. He begins the story with Superman’s first defeat, and he and a game David Corenswet break down the iconic superhero putting him through the wringer before building up stronger and braver than ever.

Superman takes the sports film formula and throws in a dash of Silver, Bronze, and Copper Age of Comics kookiness while finishing off with a timely helping of contemporary politics. Superman uses otherworldly and crazy sci-fi tech as metaphors to create cathartic hope in a world run by billionaire criminals that sadly aren’t chilling in Belle Reve prison. The film has its preachy moments, but I’m in the choir so I didn’t mind although let’s definitely say that James Gunn has read his Larry Niven.

However, for the most part, Superman is pop rock fun that showcases Gunn’s skill with making it easy to connect with quirky characters in ensemble casts. I came out of the theater clamoring for Superman’s Pal Jimmy Olsen (Skyler Gisondo has the freak factor.), Metamorpho, and a Bwahahaha-type Justice League film while still savoring the triumph of nurture over nature, truth over deception, justice over venality, and populism over plutocracy that I had just witnessed. Also, wow, Corenswet and Rachel Brosnahan have incredible chemistry as Clark Kent and Lois Lane.

Overall Verdict: 8.0

James Gunn’s Superman is a crowd pleasing blockbuster that revives the classic superhero

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Superman

James Gunn has done the impossible with Superman. Yes, it’s a crowd pleasing blockbuster based on a comic property but that’s been done so often it’s starting to become boring. Yes, it revives the fortunes of a superhero franchise that’s seen better days but that’s been done to great effect with Batman, Spider-Man and (hopefully) Fantastic Four.

What James Gunn has done with his masterpiece film is to create a comic book movie that simulates the experience of reading a comic book. 

Most people reading this review are fans of characters who were created long before we were born. At some point all of us walked into the local comic shop (or pharmacy, stationary store or 7-11) and picked up an issue of a publication featuring a hero in colorful, skin-tight clothing doing battle with the forces of evil. The adventure had already begun when we arrived but we didn’t care. The story at hand pulled us in and made us want to know more.

Gunn’s movie opens with a block of text filling us in on the background of what is to come. It’s a  move that can’t help but evoke Star Wars’ legendary opening in media res. From there the movie is a frantic dash to the finish line with threat following threat as the plot begins to develop. 

Gunn uses exposition sparingly, letting the characters speak for themselves. He doesn’t waste time telling you the history of the Green Lantern Corps or that Mister Terrific is an Olympic gold medalist and the third smartest man in the world. He lets Nathan Fillion and Edi Gathegi tell you what you need to know with their performances and pithy, to-the-point dialog. I don’t know if Isabella Merced’s Hawkgirl is a reincarnated Egyptian princess or a Thanagarian space-cop and I don’t care. She has a chip on her shoulder, a big mace and a pitch perfect battle cry. 

For his main cast Gunn relies heavily on archetypes. David Corenswet’s Superman lacks the wry wit of Christopher Reeve and the majestic gravitas of Henry Caville but he makes up for it with an appealing earnestness and a desire to do good in a world that is more complicated than he’d like to imagine. Nicholas Hoult’s Luthor is a more peevish take on the character then we’ve seen but turns up the menace in one of the movie’s few genuinely disturbing scenes that also brought tears to my eyes. The real standout performance is given by Rachel Brosnahan. Past attempts to render Lois Lane on the big screen have all been missing the essential combination of toughness and compassion that attracts Superman’s attention but makes her more than just his girlfriend. Brosnahan displays these traits in spades making her the definitive movie version. 

Superman isn’t perfect. The humor, which I enjoyed, may come across as heavy handed to viewers who prefer more serious superhero fare. There’s also a third act reveal that makes the plot seem more complicated than it needs to be in retrospect. Most damning of all is a revelation about Superman’s homeworld Krypton that undermines the movie’s pro-immigrant message at a time when it is sorely needed in the real world. For all its flaws Superman is well worth your time. It’s a beautifully shot, superbly acted film full of color, action and memorable moments with characters that you will come to love if you didn’t go in loving them already. I enjoyed it more than any movie I’ve seen this year and more than any superhero movie I’ve seen in a long time.

And yes, Krypto does steal the show.

Overall: 9/10

Mini Reviews: Thunderbolts* welds superpowers and interpersonal struggle to craft an action packed and heart rending story

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Thunderbolts*

Sometimes, the staff at Graphic Policy are unable to get long reviews written. When that happens you’ll see these “mini reviews.”

These are Graphic Policy’s Mini Reviews and Recommendations.

Logan

Thunderbolts*– When Thunderbolts* began with the comic panel intro instead of the MCU, I knew it would be a solid flick. It’s an ode to the hard cases and the girlies with mental health struggles who just happen to have the powers of Superman or Russian spy martial arts. Director Jake Schreier wisely centers the film on Yelena Belova’s (Florence Pugh) journey, and her gifts for wry comedy and deep emotion are on display. I especially love her interactions with Bob (Lewis Pullman) and Red Guardian (David Harbour), who brings the loudest laughs. Instead of focusing on the next film, Thunderbolts* welds superpowers and interpersonal struggles to craft an action packed and occasionally heart rending story. Seriously, Yelena’s story is relatable to anyone who feels lonely and left out. Overall Verdict: 7.0

Film Review: Mickey 17 is a sci-fi comedy for our era with antagonists ripped from current headlines

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Mickey 17

How do you follow up an anti-capitalist Best Picture winning satirical thriller? Why if you’re writer/director Bong Joon-Ho, you spend over $100 million of Warner Bros/Discovery’s money to craft an anti-capitalist, anti-imperialist, and slightly askew sci-fi allegory/comedy starring one of our generation’s greatest actors in a dual role as the products of a literal human printer. Adapted from the 2022 novel Mickey7, Mickey 17 follows the titular character (Played by a game and giving Robert Pattinson.) and his friend Timo (Steven Yeun), who are on the run from a loan shark and take jobs as part of a ship crew colonizing an ice planet fittingly called Niflheim. Mickey takes on the role of an “Expendable” going on dangerous missions, dying, and being reprinted to go on even more missions. Mickey has died 17 times and has taken on the moniker of Mickey 17. He ends up being caught up in a web of intrigue featuring a corrupt, ultrareligious politician named Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo), his wannabe gourmand wife Ylfa (Toni Collette), and the menacing Creepers, which are making it difficult for Marshall to turn Niflheim into a new home for “pure” humans.

There are definitely shades of previous science fiction films in Mickey 17, including Edge of Tomorrow, Moon, and Starship Troopers plus some philosophical bits from Blade Runner. However, Bong puts his own imprint on the sci-fi satire genre, and it all starts with a frenetic, duelling banjos of performances from Pattinson. There are some comedic pratfalls, bleak cinematography from Darius Khondji, and more importantly, memorable, tardigrade-esque creature designs for the Creepers, but Mickey 17 truly picks up steam when Mickey 18 appears on the scene. Having multiple Expendables is a big legal no-no in the film’s universe, and Bong Joon-Ho creates believable tension out of both Mickeys sneaking their way across the ship or channeling Cain and Abel when they see Timo selling space opioids to a fellow passenger.

With the twin Mickeys as a sounding board, Mickey 17 does explore and have a viewpoint about the ethics behind cloning with plenty of charged dialogue about “one body, one soul” from Kenneth Marshall. However, there’s definitely some time for silliness and sexiness like a hilarious/kind of hot scene where security agent Nasha (Naomi Ackie), who has a romantic history with one of the previous Mickeys does some serious thinking and acting on the classic ice breaker question of “Would you kill or sleep with your clone?” These moments of levity make Mickey 17 and 18 endearing characters and solidify Nasha as a true ally when the second half of the movie goes into full political resistance mode after Mickey 17 almost dies when Marshall feeds him experimental meat and later experimental painkillers at a dinner in his honor that has big “We couldn’t give you a raise, but have a microwaveable Red Baron pizza on us.”

Mickey 17

There are flashes of Luigi Mangione and the 2024 attempted assassination of Donald Trump in several sequences in Mickey 17, and Ruffalo’s performance as Marshall is a ketamine and Pentecostal praise and worship laced chimera of Trump and Elon Musk. He talks about the Expendables and Creepers in the most demeaning terms, and when an agent named Kai (Anamaria Vartolomei) tries to have an emotionally honest moment with him and Ylfa, he turns into a weird performative, evangelical prayer-off. Mark Ruffalo and Collette perfect the othering gaze with their treatment of Mickey, the Creeper, and just everyone around them. Their screen presence is like being with a rich person in a social setting, who only wants to speak to someone either equal to or superior to them in status. Everyone else is just “the help” or subhuman. For example, Marshall puts a revolver to Mickey 17’s head, and Bong frames it in a way where it’s like he’s putting down livestock not killing a human being.

Mickey 17 has compelling commentary on settler colonialism, the poor treatment of the working class, and as mentioned in the previous paragraph, the relationship between religious fundamentalism, late stage capitalism. However, it’s no lecture, and especially the back end of the film is quite entertaining with lots of profanity-filled one-liners and monologues from Mickey 18, a fairly suspenseful icy chase sequence, and one messed up dream sequence. This is all powered by Robert Pattinson’s performance as Mickey 17 and 18. There’s a lot of Connie in Good Time in Mickey 18’s DNA, and he’s got the sexy, yet occasionally righteous sociopath thing going for him while Mickey 17 flops around, is pathetic, and lets Pattinson indulge in some slapstick, and fear of mortality. Because, beneath the jokes and reprints, Mickey Barnes is afraid of death.

Mickey 17 is a sci-fi comedy for our era with antagonists ripped from current headlines and a setting that would make RFK Jr. drool and save Jeff Bezos a lot of money. It’s epic in scope and worth seeing on the big screen, but grounded in the compelling humanity of Mickey 17 and Mickey 18, who are given vibrant life and love by Robert Pattinson. Also, its setting might be dystopian, but Mickey 17 is quite a hopeful film too and features characters that are pure catharsis. (Seriously, Nasha for president!)

Overall Verdict: 8.0

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