Wednesday, February 28, 2018

‘Blu-ray or Bust’ - DADDY’S HOME TWO



‘Blu-ray or Bust’
DADDY’S HOME TWO (2017, PG-13, 100 minutes, PARAMOUNT PICTURES/GARY SANCHEZ PRODUCTIONS)


Ugh.

As someone (see: “under-qualified film critic”) who takes his own opinion seriously, I figured the only way to fully appreciate DADDY’S HOME TWO was to watch the first film.  Let’s just say I would have given that one a somewhat solid “C” by way of a grade; to explain further would be to reiterate myself when it comes to its haphazard sequel, and lessen the caustic verbiage of the proper review.  So let’s just get to the bare bones, shall we?

This film sucks.  It is a poor successor to a movie that really didn’t need a follow-up.  Like BAD MOM’S CHRISTMAS, it seems a weak attempt at cashing in on the holiday movie genre (and both films have too many similarities to be coincidence).  It is like watching a dog poo, only to have that dog look back at what it laid on the grass, was unhappy with the outcome, and decided to lay a less solid poo atop it.  And you’re the one that has to pick it up.  So allow me to walk that dog for you, because no one likes squishy… okay, I’m starting to gross myself out.


The film centers on Brad (Will Ferrell) and Dusty (Mark Wahlberg), two fathers that have worked out how to be co-dads to Dusty’s kids (and two actors who have been a heckuva lot better in other films).  When both of their fathers come to town at Christmas, Dusty’s dad (played by Mel Gibson) takes over the holiday and books them all at a lodge, hours away from their homes.  And all that happens in the first fifteen minutes; the writers and director Sean Anders seem in a rush to get you someplace fast, and it is a sporadic momentum which shows up in all of the wrong places.  The biggest problem I have with the film is that there are only three comedic surprises, all of which belong to one person.  Everything else is just as predictable as the first, and it is a fault the film cannot shake, even when that one person is shining.


Don’t get me wrong: everyone plays their roles exactly as you would expect.  Ferrell’s Brad is still an irritating optimist, Wahlberg’s Dusty is still a semi-tough guy.  But Brad’s dad (John Lithgow) is just like his son, only more extreme.  Same with Dusty’s; it seems that a pre-requisite to filming was for each actor to play one facet of their character to the hilt, and to only let up at the very end, as that would show that the character grew and learned from everything that transpired in the first hour-and-a-half.  WRONG.  Everyone involved is playing this as a one-note gag, and it shows.

Except for that singular person I alluded to earlier.  Scarlett Estevez plays young daughter Megan with a ferocity that everyone else should have been paying attention to.  She was the only reason I laughed during the film, and most of that was during a scene that involved a live manger.  Her timing and skills are clearly evident—let’s just hope no one in Hollywood holds this movie against her.


There are special features; a vignette concerning the “new dads” in the film, some extended and deleted scenes, and two other docs that I honestly did not have the heart or patience to watch.  Probably because the stink of the movie was lingering.  You know, like what that dog did in the yard.

So Miss Scarlett Estevez, you save this film.  Just barely.  Everyone else?  Please, FOR THE LOVE OF THE SWEET BABY HEY-ZEUS, if Sean Anders says he has a great idea for a third movie, run away.  Go take your dogs on a really long walk.

Just please keep them out of my yard.

Film Grade: D
Special Features: Seriously?
Blu-ray Necessary: Oh. hell no!

-- T.S.Kummelman

Thursday, February 22, 2018

“SKumm’s Thoughts” - BLACK PANTHER



“SKumm’s Thoughts”
BLACK PANTHER (2018, PG-13, 134 minutes, MARVEL STUDIOS/WALT DISNEY PICTURES)


In 2016, Marvel allowed Netflix to present the first African-American superhero to a public that was beginning to show signs of Marvel Universe Fatigue—which from here on out, I shall refer to as “MUF”.  Yep; I went there.

But “Luke Cage” wasn’t the black superhero we needed.  Netflix’s prior success with their gritty take on “Daredevil” and the electrifying “Jessica Jones” did not transition well in “Cage”.  Part of the problem lay with the demise of an incredible villain midway through the season, followed by a weak caricature in the final arc.  But what really set me off from the story were the over-processed stereotypes and the seemingly desperate need the show had to be urban.  From the music to the one-note characters, it all felt forced and, after the amazing first season of “Jones” in which Cage was first introduced, anticlimactic.


With Marvel’s second attempt at bringing a non-white superhero front and center with BLACK PANTHER, it appears they learned from their prior mistakes.  Director and writer Ryan Coogler (CREED, FRUITVILLE STATION) lifts this tale far above what you have come to expect from the Marvel Universe, and is more than enough to erase any MUF you may be feeling.  (Too much?...)  By placing the bulk of the story in the heart of Africa within the fictional country of Wakanda, Mr. Coogler and Company offer a tale rich in African imagery, culture, and mysticism.  In other words, THEY DIDN’T MAKE A MARVEL MOVIE.  They made a film that reflects the cultural richness and artistic consciousness of an entire people, and they pulled it off fantastically.



The story follows T’Challa—aka, The Black Panther—who returns home to Wakanda, a country steeped in advanced technology due to their immense cache of Vibranium, the same metal used in Captain America’s indestructible shield.  T’Challa has come back home to be crowned king following his father’s death, only there are a few roadblocks in his way, one of those being “Killmonger” (played by the amazing Michael B. Jordan), who has his own claim to the throne of Wakanda.  Chadwick Boseman (GET ON UP, MARSHALL) returns as the titular hero, once again solidifying Marvel’s uncanny knack at brilliant casting—but he is nearly overshadowed by his costars.  Not only does Mr. Jordan give his character an honest and justified cause, but makes his righteousness convincing enough to illicit empathy from the viewer—until he flies off the rails, that is.  There is also the wonderfully giddy Andy Serkis, reprising his role as villain Ulysses Klaue and firmly making him one of the top five Best Marvel Villains.

But wasn’t I just saying that this isn’t really a Marvel movie?...when you take into consideration that not only is the cast predominantly not Caucasian, and add to that the strong female presences in the film and woven into the story itself, yeah—not your typical Marvel flick.  Which is awesome.  Angela Bassett plays T’Challa’s tough yet elegant mother; Lupita Nyong'o a world-weary spy; Danai Gurira plays a kick-ass general to his highness’s army; and his sister—brilliant and resourceful and just as confident and strong as the others—is played by Letitia Wright, who has a strong argument for getting her own stinkin’ movie or series after her performance here.  Four women in a Marvel film, who together get more screen time than the superhero himself?  Unheard of.  And damn brilliant, too.


It used to be that female characters in these films took a backseat to the male leads—Black Widow, anyone?  Now—and quite possibly due to the success of D.C.’s WONDER WOMAN—these characters add more than depth or support to the story—they also help define the hero himself.  And, make him stronger.  And these four fierce women do so much more than that; they give us hope that future Marvel films will embrace the concept of such diversified talent and artistic display, as it raises the MCU to a much higher level than the typical disposable fodder.

So, I leave you with this PSA: are you, or someone you love, suffering the effects of MUF?  If so, go watch BLACK PANTHER, and leave your MUF behind.

(seriously…was anyone keeping count?...)

Grade: A


-- T.S. Kummelman