FILM
Marvel Studios
Captain Marvel Movie Review: A messy but powerful tale of redemptive self-discovery
Light spoilers ahead.
Despite all of the visual similarity to the MCU canon thus far that “Captain Marvel” contains, it strays further into stranger territory than any of its bretherton. For all that James Gunn proclaimed his “Guardians” to be the black sheep of the MCU family and “Thor: Ragnarok” preached an imbued sense of director Taika Waititi’s wild child peculiarity into the superhero water at Disney, “Captain Marvel” is the weirdest yet. Echoing the tonality of the similarly offbeat “A Wrinkle in Time” that too prioritized self-discovery over big battles or romance, “Captain Marvel” might not go down as the studios best and there’s far too much awkward stumbling in the first third to guarantee is insurmountable love, but as an introductory study on the latest character in the studios newest film, it’s a stalled but impactful triumph. It encourages us to rethink the entire structuring of the universe, one that isn’t built on the shoulders of Tony Stark’s personal demon built machines but, rather, on the heart of a young woman’s determined curiosity, sense of wonder and inherent might in spirit.
Carol Danvers (Brie Larson) doesn’t remember her past before being taken to Kree by Yon-Rogg (Jude Law). Following an attack gone array on the Skrulls, Carol finds herself crash landing on Earth with a younger Nick Fury (a de-aged Samuel L. Jackson having a ball) as they try and track down scientist Wendy Lawson (who shares the same face as the Kree Supreme Intelligence, played by Annette Bening) before the power source she created is taken and used for nefarious causes. Directed by Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck (“Half Nelson”) the film spends a decent amount of time submerged in the mystery of Carol’s past but it’s less inclined to indulge those looking for typical emotional beats in favor of something more wholly intimate.
The shortcomings of the film all manage to press themselves into the first twenty minutes of the and momentarily it seems that the film may run out of steam before it’s ever really been given a chance to begin. The first half juggles both too much mystery and too much reliance on the audience's ability to recall detailing and plot developments of a decades worth of films. It’s a lot to ask of viewers and the stagnant dialogue offers little in the way of favors and the writers try and punch up the script with quips better suited for other Marvel properties, seemingly worried that a few moments without a snarky remark might lose the audience's attention. The film is all the better when it lets go of conventional beats and directs itself to the more personal details of this heroines story. Impossibly listless and frustratingly lethargic at the beginning, the strongest elements of the film are often isolated until the crescendoing, climatic moments that ignites a ferocious indignation and untethered optimism that creates a lasting, moving effect.
Boden and Fleck don’t do much to upend the familiar framing palette of the Marvel universe but when gives it a raucous edge in the fight sequences. Their best scene takes place in an unusually quiet moment that transforms itself into one of Marvel’s finest sequences to date. In an honest conversation between Carol and her allies, a scene stealing Ben Mendelsohn as Talos in particular, as she realizes both her past ignorance and future purpose. This all transpires at sundown in the backyard of her almost forgotten friend, Maria (Lashana Lynch) and it’s a beautiful achievement for the filmmakers. Their eye for intimacy even in the most outrageous setting along with a score by Pinar Toprak aids “Captain Marvel” in toeing the line between fantastical and personal.
Where the film earns greatest achievements are through the relationships and Carol’s battle against men who continue to gaslight her to shortchange her gifts. Immensely powerful, she’s been consistently directed as to what she can and cannot do, how best it is to react to the fighter the opposing side wants her to be. She’s told that she can’t be too emotional when fighting, that it will jeopardize missions when in reality it’s her link to human emotions that tethers her further to her gifts, and it’s her need and want to protect that eases her into her newfound hero moniker. It’s her moments of acute heroism that are so distinctly rousing as she allows her full power to surge through her like lightning, a power beam of joyously embraced speed, strength and pure matter.
The tender relationship between Carol and her best friend Maria grants the story its heart as Maria, even after all of this time, anchors the stoic, stubborn but rudderless Carol as she tries and pinpoint when her memories diverged from being her own and being at the whim of an unruly manipulator. Larson spends the majority of this film with low levels enthusiasm, the perfect portrait of a noble hero, but with Lynch (the two share tremendous unspoken chemistry) she offers up a taste of vulnerability that helps humanize the character. One of the most special aspects of “Captain Marvel” is that the big love explored is that between two female friends.
“Captain Marvel” didn’t reset all of the rules of the superhero genre but it didn’t need to. It’s an evocative, messy portrait of a young woman who learns to embrace her gifts as she realizes the true promises beyond the strength she knew she had and that they lay just outside the tethered reach she’d been existing in. As she says, she’s been fighting this whole time with her arm tied behind her back and she, like so many women, when taking the ability to fight with all her might is a sight to behold. [3/4]
A Distinct Vision: On Naoko Yamada’s ‘Liz and the Blue Bird’ and ‘A Silent Voice’
There’s a universally known truth that one’s high school years feel enormously endless while living them. Hindsight is illuminating, and while we can look back and recognize the emotional puddles we managed to drown in or avoid, there’s nothing fiercer, scarier or more affirming than whatever triumph or challenge you’re currently facing in the moment. Yamada honors those outsized emotions that we either wallow or revel in; a friendship can save your life, a piece of music selected for class can reveal great truths, and being rejected can feel like the end of the world. Liz and the Blue Bird and A Silent Voice don’t invalidate what their characters are feeling, as they’re mere reflections of what real high school students go through. And both film go one step forward by talking about subjects that, while not taboo, aren’t brought up nearly enough in media.
The humanism on display is beautifully depicted, both in the vibrancy of the animation and the detailed character work. What unites the two stories is a thread of empathy and belief in the characters’ ability and want to help one another. In Liz and the Blue Bird, it’s about letting go to allow your friend to soar. And in A Silent Voice, it’s about learning how to listen.
It’s never an easy fix when it comes to healing your soul, especially when guilt or self-loathing is involved. In A Silent Voice, that battle for happiness is one fraught with disastrous missteps and emotional wounds that bleed brighter and run deeper than any physical scars. Yamada expertly navigates the expectations and realities of our mental health and how the former can derail genuine progress. When we make the effort to better ourselves and atone for past grievances, the toll is suffocating. Similarly, if we grow up apologizing for our existence, every step made towards self-acceptance and love is going to be impossibly vast, making the journey all the more exhaustive. A Silent Voice’s characters aren’t beyond repair, though.
Read the full article at VagueVisages.com
‘Alita: Battle Angel’: Cyborg awakens to world awash in enthralling violence and bad writing
There’s no denying the entertainment value of Robert Rodriguez’s “Alita: Battle Angel.” It’s bombastic and wildly imaginative, and it spins one of the first relatively decent adaptations of a manga series. Granted, the bar is low (see: “Ghost in a Shell”), but with top-notch special effects and pulsing action sequences that have genuine stakes, Rodriguez has delivered upon his promise in terms of scale. A shame it’s so relentlessly dumb.
In the distant future where what remains of the universe has gathered in Iron City, a rubble- and debris-ridden area where lower-class citizens fight in a motocross game to move up in society, an abandoned Alita (Rosa Salazar) is found and repaired by Dr. Ido (Christoph Waltz) but appears to be unable to remember her life before being awakened. A cyborg, she soon comes to realize that with her past comes dark truths and violence, her body having been built to defend and attack on instinct.
‘How to Train Your Dragon 3,’
Despite Flaws, Is Escapism With An Emotional Wallop
There’s always been a patient and underlying feeling of melancholy in the Dean DeBlois-directed “How to Train Your Dragon” series as its employed dragons and Vikings as a Trojan horse to explore the pains and thrills of growing up. Where “How to Train Your Dragon” examined expectations of youth and kinship amongst misfits and its sequel grappled with legacy, the third installment—lacking in the kinetic urgency of the former two despite being one long narrative chase— is still a whimsical meditation on self-acceptance and the need to move forward to truly grow up. The future can only be found through the always-courageous next step.
The animation is, as it’s always been, stunning – especially when it comes to shots that expand the scope of the world. When it comes to depicting the landscapes at large, ‘Dragon 3’ showcases artists at the top of their game. In particular, there are two breathtaking sequences that are lovingly rendered reminders of cinema’s magical ability to transport an audience emotionally to a dazzling new world. The first sequence is a dialogue-free journey with Hiccup and the Light Fury as they bond through the use of their powers, exploring the elements from thunderous clouds to lightly speckled seas. Later in the film, Hiccup, and Astrid exploring the wonders of this hidden world is gorgeous—this marriage of concept, musical cues, and animation is where the film soars.
‘THE FAVOURITE’: These ladies will do anything to get upper hand in cold world of royal court
There isn’t an abundance of warmth in the works of director Yorgos Lanthimos. The filmmaker behind titles such as “Dogtooth” and “The Lobster” is more fascinated by the macabre and the horrors humans inflict on one another when their place in the world is threatened. “The Favourite,” focused on the relationship between a queen and two women striving for the power she holds, doesn’t stray too far – the characters all still do wretched things to one another – but is the most the director has ever signaled empathy for his characters. The devilish humanity coloring the corners of the film makes for an even more enriching picture and, hilariously, his most accessible.
A dark comedy, vengeful drama and effusive character study, “The Favourite” never becomes muddled in its many themes and agendas. Part of this clarity rests on immaculate set design, crisp in its layout and captured in a dreary haze by cinematographer Robbie Ryan, and remarkable costuming by Sandy Powell, who makes Sarah near militaristic in her outfits, androgynous by design and downright witchy in her finery, while Abigail comes presented as a doily and is most herself when she’s wrestled with a suitor and arrives to the queen with her dress torn, or naked in bed, her intentions clear.
‘SHOPLIFTERS’: Breaking laws, stealing to survive isn’t the real problem for this tight-knit family
“Shoplifters,” directed by Japanese filmmaker Hirokazu Koreeda (“After the Storm,” “Still Walking”), offers a master class in subtle character building. Its grace presents itself in confident silence, with power in gestures. In “Shoplifters” every truth builds on secrets, and moments of hope tremble precariously over defeat. Koreeda never lets his characters or audience forget there’s no possibility for “more” without the chance of loss, and grounds his tale in shocking reality.
Lily Franky, with his smile lines and everyman charms, is delightful as patriarch Osamu, perfectly charismatic in one scene and letting in hints of selfish manipulation in the next. Sakura Andô as his wife, Nobuyo, has perhaps the greatest character arc of the film, peeling back layer after layer of a woman who has long built herself into the role she believes she deserved, forgoing self-care and love for a diligent fighting spirit and self-defensive humor. The entire cast is phenomenal, with a lived-in chemistry that speaks earnestly to a unit that shares space with little to no privacy and walls that are suggestions rather than dividers.
“Shoplifters” presents a mighty story of connection, lost dreams, found homes and forced hope in an intimate package. Koreeda’s nuanced storytelling and his performers’ effortless ability to draw viewers in make the film a cornerstone piece of cinema. Positioning itself to see the world from the shoulders of its tiniest heroine with big, absorbing eyes, taking in the plights and possibilities of the world at large, it juxtaposes that wonder with an adult’s weary wisdom. “Shoplifters” knows where its characters are going, but it never stops the audience from wondering whether there’s more.
Read the full review at CambridgeDay.com
‘CAN YOU EVER FORGIVE ME’: Review
Asking the hard questions about identity, legacy, artistic integrity and all that lays between, director Marielle Heller (“Diary of a Teenage Girl”) has created one of the most subtly funny and simultaneously devastating films of 2018 with “Can You Ever Forgive Me?”. Starring a never better Melissa McCarthy and Richard E. Grant, Heller, along with scribes Nicole Holofcener and Jeff Whitty, unifies tone with ease, picking up on humor only expressed while down on your luck and a sense grief and loneliness that can be detected through self-effacing jokes and disclaimers. It’s a character piece that is particular in its enriching portrait of an artist who is out of her time and element, yearning to create while also managing to be uniquely universal in the way it acknowledges that human need to be remembered, celebrated and adored by loved ones we’ve found along life's beaten and warped path.
Based on the true story of Lee Israel and adapted from her memoir, McCarthy embodies the cantankerous writer after a falling out with her editor who implores her client that what she’s writing isn’t what customers are buying. While doing research on her latest topic, Fanny Brice, Lee discovers a side project to keep her finances afloat: forging letters of deceased Hollywood elite with the help of her newfound confidant, Jack. Lee can’t keep this afloat for long but the friendship she forms with Jack and the character study we bear witness over the course of the film makes us hope against all else that she finds her own form of a happy ending.