REVIEW: The Tick, Amazon Prime Series, Not For General Audiences!

Griffin Newman and Peter Serafinowicz

With Marvel and DC enjoying relative success these days in both movies and television, it's no surprise the age of superheroes (and their respective villains) is dominating popular culture. Just look at online photos of the various attendees of San Diego ComiCon for more than the last two decades. But one aspect of this genre/medium that doesn't get talked about a whole lot is the difference between heroes with superpowers and those who just dress up. It's the latter that makes a character like the Tick so enduring.

Initially created as a comic book series created by Ben Edlund in 1986, the Tick is a satire of superheroes, with a lean, muscular physique contrasted with a dimwitted-yet-determined personality. The character found his way on T.V. in the early-Nineties with the animated show, featuring NBC-"Must-See T.V." announcer Townsend Coleman as the voice of the famed blue bug. Later, in the early-2000s, a short-lived live-action version on Fox starred "Seinfeld"-veteran Patrick Warburton. This time around, British actor Peter Serafinowicz (Shaun of the Dead, Guardians of the Galaxy) takes up the mantel and the aforementioned personality in a more grounded-in-reality setting, whereas the previous adaptations relied on over-the-top humor.

What this new Amazon Prime series does, interestingly, is tell it from the point of view of his eventual sidekick, Arthur (Griffin Newman). A financial advisor, who also moonlights as a private eye, believes that a sinister plan is underway in the city. Furthermore, this city has forgotten its superheroes (of whom Arthur was a fan, and who apparently haven't been around for years). One night, he meets a mysterious figure, a hulking and ridiculous "superhero" who simply calls himself "the Tick," who encourages him to accept what"destiny" (whatever that may be) called him to: a hero and a sidekick. "You've got the brains. I've got the 'everything else'," the big blue bug tells the nervous Arthur. But (according to the pilot episode, at least), is the Tick actually real, or is he just a figment of Arthur's conflicting imagination?

The Tick's animated counterpart

The tone of this series works from the get-go. The pilot, which was first shown on Amazon Prime during a streaming series last year, is one of the best I've seen in a while, and each episode ends on a cliffhanger (perhaps a bit much, along with the respective half-hour running times). Nevertheless, the meta humor and silly narration helps make the show a riot.

The themes of normal, everyday people (not just "superheroes") making a difference in the world and finding their true calling shine through here. It could even be argued that the Tick is something of a voice of reason. "I'm the you you've always wanted to be." He adds, "You're not going crazy. You've gone sane in a crazy world." It's also interesting that there's some mystery to who the Tick is, including his lack of knowledge about where he came from and where he lives, other than he's called to fight. ("Destiny called, Arthur.")

I grew up with the blue bug on Saturday mornings with other lesser-known characters like Bobby Generic and "Eek!" the Cat. As a kid, it was easy for me to look at him as a silly superhero. In retrospect, the character and premise could never be more, shall we say, fitting, especially since so many movies and T.V. shows have taken darker routes (which this version does, at times). Moreover, the Tick represents the kind of character much needed in this difficult day-and-age.

Peter Serafinowicz

But while Serafinowicz's committed take is hilarious and Newman helps genuinely ground the show in reality, most of the circumstances and villains they encounter are anything but. While certainly no Batman v Superman, the serious elements this show gets into are still surprising, and not in a good way.

Sadly, the writers chose to have characters, like the angsty villainous Ms. Lint, shout several harsh profanities (some of them f-words!). There's also brief but graphic images of violence and blood splatter, courtesy a mercenary aptly named Overkill. "Murder," the Tick tells Arthur, "it's just not cool." Indeed, while the Tick's character and actions run contrary to, say, Deadpool's, almost "everything else" in this show could be a distant cousin of the infamous "Merc with a Mouth".

And it's these elements that put this show out of bounds for what could have been a more general audience. I, for one, was really looking forward to it.

A Christian Examination of Horror

WRITER'S NOTE: This post contains references to violent and disturbing content, and is not appropriate for children.

Those of you who've read my blogs in the last few months are probably aware of my position on horror movies. Up until a few months ago (specifically, the release and surprise success of the intriguing and creepy racial thriller Get Out), I've mostly found the horror genre to be not just very scary, but also very exploitative and morally damaging. And yet, I've strangely been examining it, for better and for worse, and have come to a better understanding and discernment of it.

First and foremost, what is horror? If you google the term itself, the first definition that appears is "an intense feeling of fear, shock, or disgust." It's also described as "an overwhelming and painful feeling caused by something frightfully . . . terrifying, or revolting; [in other words] a shuddering fear." To sum it up, horror is a physiological reaction involving escalated heartbeats, fears (including those of the unknown), nightmares, and even intrusions (i.e., a home invasion).

Let me rephrase that one more time. Anything that scares us, shocks us, disgusts us, terrifies us, or revolts us.

If we go back to literature through the likes of Edgar Allan Poe, Bram Stoker, and Mary Shelley, they tell tales and stories--fictional, that is--involving murders, immortal vampires, and monster creations respectfully. (The latter two, Dracula and Frankenstein, would go on to become classic films in the early 1930s.)And it isn't just these books. Other works, including Greek texts and most certainly the Bible, contain horrific elements of violence, war, decapitations, and crucifixions that are unspeakable, perhaps even more than the stories and writers of today.

Speaking of which, today's writers, like Stephen King, and filmmakers, like John Carpenter, Darren Aronovsky, and the late George Romero and Wes Craven, have evoked these same aforementioned elements (fear, shock, disgust, terror, and revolt), while amplifying them, from Freddy Kruger to Michael Myers to Pennywise and pretty much every zombie, for that matter.

Bela Lugosi in 1931's Dracula

Boris Karloff in 1931's Frankenstein

One way I've been studying horror (and this is the most research I've ever done on this genre, for the record) is by looking at its various subgenres. (Wikipedia has a broad link, which you can view here.) These subgenres include action horror (the same as a regular action movie, but with creatures and splattering, like 1987's Predator and the Blade trilogy), comedy horror (1984's Ghostbusters, 1988's Beetlejuice), horror drama (2014's The Babadook), Gothic horror (1999's Sleepy Hallow, 2015's Crimson Peak), holiday horror (1984's Gremlins, 2015's Krampus), natural horror (1963's The Birds, 1975's Jaws), and sci-fi horror (1979's Alien, the Resident Evil franchise). There's even been at least one horror musical that I know (2007's Sweeney Todd, about a vengeful barber), some animated features (2009's Coraline, 2012's ParaNorman), and a few "family"-oriented flicks (1993's Hocus Pocus, 2015's Goosebumps).

I want to talk about the most common subgenres often associated with horror, specifically SUPERNATURAL, SLASHER, SPLATTER, and PSYCHOLOGICAL, as well as at least five examples of films and/or franchises in each, and finally what they really stand for. Now, I haven't seen all of these movies, mind you. And I don't plan to, for that matter. (Personally, I can't even watch vampire movies without feeling nerve-wracking; the trailer for 2008's Let the Right One In is enough to make me feel this way.) About half of the following excerpts are based on my research alone.

Lastly, while these films and subgenres may be important to talk about and highly discern, the real question is their meaning or lack of it. That is, are they really worth watching? I've somewhat asked myself at times, why do we watch these movies, even though we know they (or, a large majority of them) are graphic and immoral? What do they say about our humanity or lack of it? Or are they just made for their own sake to scare, shock, disgust, terrify, and/or revolt us?

SO, without further ado, here's the breakdown.


SUPERNATURAL
From ghosts to spirituality to exorcists, this aspect of this genre leaves more than just a mark.

The Exorcist (1973)
Director William Friedkin's take on William Peter Blatty's bestselling novel about a 12-year-old girl who is possessed by the devil, and whose mother calls upon two priests to rid her daughter's body of the demon. Such a take on this topic has never been so raw, wince-inducing, and controversial since. The Reverend Billy Graham stated, "The Devil is in every frame of this film" (read here). This notion of making the innocence of children look frightening would resurface in 1976's The Omen, about a demonic child. In the mean time, witchcraft, demon-possession, and levitations would find their way in such period films as The Conjuring (2013) and its sequels and spinoffs, as well as the Satanic Temple-endorsed The Witch (2016).

Poltergeist (1982)
Perhaps Steven Spielberg's only other involvement with horror besides Jaws, this special-effects, spook-filled nightmare from Tobe Hooper (1974's The Texas Chainsaw Massacre) finds a suburban family that experiences strange and ghoulish phenomena in their quiet home, from clowns in kids' bedrooms to dead corpses in the backyard pool, and a sweet little girl announcing, "They're heeeere." How creepier can you get? Oh, and did I mention that meat-in-the-kitchen scene?

The Sixth Sense (1999)
M. Night Shamalayan's successful thriller about a lonely boy (Haley Joel Osment) who sees ghosts, with Bruce Willis as the child psychiatrist who tries to help him, and who tries to figure out his own personal agenda. A rare suspense-drama, as well as a rare Best Picture nominee in the genre.

The Blair Witch Project (1999)
Many back then would call this one a suspension of disbelief. The birth of the found footage feature along with a successful marketing campaign (both of which were believed to be true back then) began here, as three filmmakers embark into the woods to find a legendary, supernatural, and supposedly unseen figure. But then, things start to take a turn for the worst, in both unexpected and profane ways. This strategy was revived in the latter-Aughts with Matt Reeves' contemporary monster flick Cloverfield (2008) and Oren Peli's home-shot Paranormal Activity (2007).

The Ring (2002)
As Psycho made people afraid of showers and Jaws made people afraid of water, perhaps this American remake of a famous Japanese film (1998's Ringu) makes videotapes look bone-chilling. Naomi Watts plays an investigative reporter who learns about a mysterious tape that kills its viewers seven days after they watch it. Director Gore Verbinski unsettles audiences with disturbing images and a thoroughly cryptic vibe. Oh, and a scary girl that comes out of a television.

SLASHER
This is where things turn to graphic exploitation.

Halloween (1978)
John Carpenter may have followed Alfred Hitchcock's suit with this chilling feature about a deranged mass murderer who returns to his hometown on Halloween night to bring back his reign of terror and bloodshed. The overall effect is silent and sudden, including images of the infamous Michael Myers in (of all things) his William Shatner-esque mask. Jamie Lee Curtis also became the "scream queen" of her generation here, while many criticized this film for creating the "sex-equals-death" notion.

Friday the 13th (1980)
Hockey-masked killer Jason Voorhees from Camp Crystal Lake may be the most nihilistic fictional killer of all. Compare his deadly and evil track record of eleven solo films to Freddy Kruger's eight (they both battled in 2003) and Michael Myers' ten.

A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)
Wes Craven gave birth to the infamous dream-killing boogeyman, Freddy Kruger, in this feature, and returned to the character ten years later (after less-successful sequels from other directors) with the ultra-meta Wes Craven's New Nightmare (1994).

Child's Play (1988)
A feature that tarnishes the childhood innocence of playing with dolls (in this case, a "Good Guy" named Chucky), and throws a dark voodoo-serial killer in to terrorize a six-year-old boy. Countless nihilistic (and comedic-oriented?!?) sequels followed, before the original filmmakers returned to the first film's terror elements with two direct-to-video releases. For the record, this character scarred my childhood. Annabelle and the Poltergeist clowns ain't got nothing on this guy.

Scream (1996)
Just as he did with Freddy Kruger in the Eighties, Wes Craven left his mark on the genre with this clever-but-extremely-maddening, whodunit feature from the Nineties (written by Kevin Williamson) about an obsessive horror movie fan (dressed in an Edward Munch Ghostface mask) who goes on a killing spree. Craven and Williamson took meta humor and cliches to an ultimate level and put them in a setting that feels (sadly) palpably real. Spawned three sequels and an MTV series, while the teen horror subgenre would also expand to countless imitators and other features, such as the Williamson-penned I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997), the Final Destination series (2000-2011), and the sex-equals-death thriller It Follows (2015).


SPLATTER 
A successor to slasher, with said exploitation turned up to 11 and beyond.
Also applicable in this subgenre are *Body Horror (very gross-out, repulsive and disgusting) and **Zombie Horror (the one that may say something about humanity, or just bite into its flesh)

Night of the Living Dead (1968)**
The late George A. Romero is credited for (pretty much) defining the zombie movie, which began here with a horde of undead citizens who hose in on survivors in a farmhouse. Romero returned to this world (and defined it again) with his shopping mall-centered and gory sequel Dawn of the Dead (1978) and its successors. Dawn was remade by Zack Snyder in 2004, while zombies would find later success on T.V. ("The Walking Dead") and in a couple of cleverly-made-but-equally-gory comedies (2004's Shaun of the Dead and 2009's Zombieland).

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1973)
The premise is simple: a group of road travelers pick up a hitchhiker and soon encounter an estate run by a family of merciless cannibals, including the skin-wearing, chainsaw-weilding Leatherface. Perhaps the birth of torture porn, courtesy Tobe Hooper. Enough said.

Evil Dead (1981)
When a group of friends travel to a remote cabin in the woods, they open an ancient book and unleash a horde of evil-possessing spirits. This low-budget splatterfest put director Sam Raimi and B-movie legend Bruce "Groovy" Campbell on the map (while avoiding an official rating from the MPAA then, for distaste purposes). They followed suit with the splatter-comedy-sequel Evil Dead II (1987) and the medieval-themed Army of Darkness (1992). The 2013 remake was advertised as, "The most terrifying film you will ever experience." Writers Joss Whedon and Drew Goddard may have paid tribute to Raimi and company with their aptly-named The Cabin in the Woods (2012).

The Thing (1982)*
John Carpenter's special-effects yuck-fest, about an alien lifeform found in the frozen tundra, is certainly not for the squeamish. And neither is David Cronenberg's chilling mad-scientist thriller The Fly (1986), where Jeff Goldblum tragically (and disgustingly) turns into an insect.

Saw (2004)
James Wan's low-budget mystery, about a twisted psychopath named Jigsaw who places his victims in deadly puzzle games, is cleverly-paced. But its torturous violence made me say, "That's enough," and NO to the endless sequels it's spawned, including the recent Jigsaw (2017), and especially to Eli Roth's Hostel (2005).


PSYCHOLOGICAL 
Here are stories that try to get into the minds of its subject characters. (Or, is it they who try to get into ours?

Psycho (1960)
Alfred Hitchcock also established the slasher film here, with his infamous take on the equally-infamous novel by Robert Bloch, partly based on serial murderer Ed Gein. Runaway Marion Crane spends the night in a hotel, run by the mysterious Norman Bates and his unseen mother. Of course, everybody knows the famous shower scene, as well as Bernard Herrmann's shrieking strings-only score. The year of this film's release, Hitchcock had theater owners place cardboard signs with strict instructions not to allow any patrons in after the film began, so as not to ruin any of the film's spoilers or twists. This only added to the film's success, after its initial controversy with the Ratings Code then, and its role in making on-screen murders part of "entertainment." (The new documentary 78/52 explores the cultural and cinematic effect of the shower scene.) My, how the system has changed.

The Shining (1980)
All it takes is Jack Nicholson--as the caretaker of an isolated hotel in the winter--to peak through an axed door in Stanley Kubrick's acclaimed and controversial take on Stephen King's novel, and scare the living daylights out of you. Well, that and two dead twin girls at the end of a hallway.

Misery (1990)
An obsessive fan holds her favorite author captive in an isolated Colorado home, after rescuing him from a car accident and learning that he killed off her favorite literary character. Kathy Bates won a Best Actress Oscar for her chilling portrayal of psychotic nurse Annie Wilkes in Rob Reiner's film, which many consider another one of the best adaptations of Stephen King's work, along with Carrie (1976), Delores Claiborne (1995), The Mist (2007), and It (2017)..

The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
In the only horror film to receive the Best Picture Academy Award-win, cannibalistic killer Hannibal Lecter (an unforgettable Anthony Hopkins) assists up-and-coming agent Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) in tracking down a more sickening and vicious skinning murderer, Buffalo Bill (a never-more-chilling Ted Levine). "Don't let Hannibal Lecter get inside your head."

mother! (2017)
Jennifer Lawrence and Javier Bardem play a couple whose quiet and secluded life is interrupted by strange, uninvited guests in Darren Aronovsky's controversial and appalling film. Perhaps both a modern-day allegory of celebrity obsession and an anti-Christian parable. (Read my review here.)

WRITER'S NOTE: You can also read my full reviews (as follows) for this year's Split (here), Get Out (here), and It (here).


***

There's a great article online (click here), written by Pastor James Harleman, titled "Horror, Gore, Fear & the Christian," which breaks down what the genre is and, more specifically, whether or not it's a genre to be involved with. It even includes some interesting points from writer-director Scott Derrickson (2005's The Exorcism of Emily Rose, 2012's Sinister).

The problem with a lot of these movies and characters (as iconic as they may be) is there's no sense of redemption or salvation--unless one may count certain characters' survival instincts. Instead, they wallow in pools of violence, anti-socialism, and nihilistic "survival of the fittest" damage. And I, and many others, are all the worst for it--whether from the actual movies or just from clips via WatchMojo.com. To be a little more specific, they run contrary to war films and historical films, which, according to author Brian Godowa, "portray equally graphic brutality, but their contexts are ultimately redemptive," in terms of self-sacrifice, heroism, and hope.

And yet, perhaps I'm strangely all the better for it, now that I have more of an understanding of the genre and its sub-categories. Don't get me wrong, having an understanding is fine. But there has to be a line that shouldn't be crossed in terms of making sure we're not indulging what the world considers "entertainment," including slaughter, sexuality and profanity, not to mention a lack of morality and humanity.

Nevertheless, it's a very provocative area to be in.

REVIEW: "The Meyerowitz Stories" Could Have Been A Standout Film This Year

I eagerly awaited the release date for writer-director Noah Baumbach's The Meyerowitz Stories (New and Selected) since hearing about the film over a year ago. The main reason I was interested was simple: Adam Sandler in a rare serious role. Understandably, as many poor films as Sandler has been in the last few years, there are still a few he's made where he's shown that he is capable of more than just funny noises and crude expressions. (2002's Punch-Drunk Love and 2004's Spanglish still hold up as brilliant dramatic roles on his resume.) Furthermore, the pairing of him with fellow comedian (and friend) Ben Stiller, the legendary Dustin Hoffman, and the always-stupendous Emma Thompson, sounded like an intriguing pairing.

The film centers on the legacy of a famous art sculptor, Harold Meyerowitz (Hoffman), whose estranged children from previous marriages reunite for a celebration of his life's work and eventually his impending health. The oldest, Danny (Sandler), is a struggling musician currently divorcing his wife, and with an 18-year-old daughter, Eliza (Grace Van Patten), on her way to college. Matthew (Stiller, a Baumbach regular) is a successful businessman whom Harold seemed to direct most of his attention and affections to. And then there's Jean (Elizabeth Marvel), an introvert who represents the sibling or family member most people would easily overlook.

Baumbach seems to specialize in stories of dysfunctional families and imperfect relationships. (His previous credits include 2005's The Squid and the Whale, 2008's Margot at the Wedding, and 2010's Greenberg). And the premise of Meyerowitz seems conventional on the surface, what with all the family members assembling under complicated circumstances. What makes Baumbach's script unique is how grounded in reality it is, and how his actors put 100-percent of themselves in their characters. This is a character-driven piece, after all; an expertly-directed one, at that. And it's easy to see why members at the Cannes Film Festival early this year went crazy for it.

In fact, it's terrific seeing Sandler in serious mode again--a case in point why he should do more similar work in his career. His willingness to not only play Danny straight but to play him with real conflict and neglect--and alongside other acting heavyweights--showcases perhaps his best screen performance to date. Ditto for Stiller, Marvel, Hoffman, Van Patten, and Thompson (as Harold's loopy current wife, Maureen). There are also many poignant scenes that illustrate the pain these characters feel towards their father, as well as the persistence they try to endure through this time. "Maybe I need to believe my dad was a genius," says Danny, "because I don't want his work to feel like crap."

(l-r) Grace Van Patten, Ben Stiller, Adam Sandler, Elizabeth Marvel

But well-acted performances and great direction do not a great movie make. Which is why (as sad as it is for me to say) I can't mark this film as a standout feature this year.

Having been purchased by Netflix, the film was slapped with a TV-MA rating (equivalent to an R-rating or above). I knew there would be profanity issues (which there are) and other dysfunctional-related themes and content issues (which there are plenty of). After all, such stories typically tell of the feelings of disappointment, regret, or lack of success, that parents have on their children. And Harold has had that kind of effect on his children, whether through divorces or different homes or career choices or so forth. Matthew, at one point, confronts him by saying that he feels like a jerk because of his father.

But the biggest slaw that breaks the camel's back here is not so much these characters' feelings of neglect and lack of success. The biggest slaw is, in particularly, their neglect of certain current issues and effects, particularly Eliza's choice of career: pornographic filmmaking. It's bad enough audiences learn about this--twenty minutes into the film, as a matter of fact, which made me lose hope in the film. However, audiences are not treated to one, but two completely unnecessary scenes showing clips from Eliza's films, with dialogue and images too graphic to even describe. "That was really hard-R," comments Jean after viewing one of them. Harold rightfully criticizes it, saying that "people should not allow their kids to do that." To add insult to injury, Danny and Matthew later encourage Eliza in her acting endeavors. I personally found these elements degrading. Also, Harold is eager to watch new premium cable channels later on, one with a film called Sex Tape. Such is the case of irony. With all of the sexual harrassment controversy going on in our culture currently (that is, news of famous people who've been forced or forced others into sexual-related activities), is it really any different when a parent allows (and condones) their child to participate in sexual-related activities by their child's own free will? As Meyerowitz celebrates family unity and attempting to resolve past conflicts, it seems to neglect and condone such current effects.

I'll say it again. Solid acting and direction alone do not a great movie make. Therefore, I cannot place The Meyerowitz Stories (New and Selected) on my "Standout Films of 2017" list. I wish I could.

REVIEW: Any Wonder That "mother!" (a.k.a. The Year's Most Controversial and Appalling Film) Has An Exclamation Point In Its Title?

An A-list cast and first-rate direction--albeit daring and experimental--can make a movie great. They can also be misleading, causing the film to be out of bounds for general audiences, for one thing. Consider Darren Aronovsky's mother!, for example. It has both the aforementioned casting and direction, but ultimately it may also be the most scathing film in years. It's certainly the most scathing thing to come to the cinema this year.

Jennifer Lawrence and Javier Bardem play a married couple whose quiet, secluded life is interrupted by strange visitors. She's a housekeeper, and he's a struggling writer. The visitors claim to be fans of the writer husband, but the housekeeping wife is skeptical and eventually unsettled, not only by their strange behaviors, but also their two sons and eventually their other guests.

And when she becomes pregnant, another cycle comes. We sense that something bad will happen. But when it does, it turns out to be a living hell for audience members, just as it is for Lawrence's character. It's beyond horrifying. In fact, the last thirty minutes of the film are not only stomach-churning. They're beyond horrifying.

Jennifer Lawrence and Javier Bardem

Aronovsky reportedly wrote his initial script in five days, like a "fever dream" and a "howl" to current world events, then put his cast through a rehearsal period of three months before shooting. The film has a haunting atmosphere, and puts an unprecedented, beyond-crazy spin on the home invasion motif. As Charlton Heston's Taylor famously quoted in Planet of the Apes, "It's a madhouse." And a nightmare, at that. Furthermore, the very hope of rebuilding a home from rubble (as the opening segment suggests) and wanting to make a paradise rapidly falls apart when others come in and carelessly tarnish it, and not just invade people's privacy.

The imagery throughout is disturbing in and of itself, from blood-stained floors and light-bulbs, to cellars illustrating boiling pots waiting to explode at any moment. But it's the writer's obsessive fans who act more like ritualistic followers, leading to an angry mob, unspeakable violence, and then disturbing carnage (like hell).

Many people will have a hard time wondering if Aronovsky's use of allegory here is either used as a contemporary parallel or as a harsh criticism towards Christianity and religion. Even director William Friedkin (no stranger to controversy himself with 1973's The Exorcist) was unsure of Aronovsky's intention during a recent interview between both filmmakers at the Producer's Guild of America (click here and here). Lawrence's "mother" is supposed to represent Mother Nature (a caregiver, a housewife), while the "husband" and "wife" (a crazy and creepy Ed Harris and Michelle Pfeiffer) are supposed to be Adam and Eve, and their two sons (real-life brothers Brian Gleeson and Domhnall Gleeson) represent Cain and Abel--with familial and violent consequences. (Did I mention even Kristen Wiig shows up as the writer's publisher?)

Lawrence hits a boiling point

But all these characters' names are written in lower case. Bardem's, on the other hand, is the only character with his name capitalized. Above all, if Bardem's "Him" is supposed to represent God (as Aronovsky has revealed in interviews), then it's the most scathing, careless, and emotionless portrayal (and possible criticism) I've ever seen. He's a character who's so overwhelmed and so into himself, his success, and how much his "followers" love him. Bardem (a phenomenal actor) becomes quietly unpredictable, and, dare I say, menacing, especially when he and Lawrence stare down over the newborn baby.

I cannot strongly state how damaging and how unbelievably appalling this film really is. If IT was a nightmarish carnival, then mother! is an insane asylum. The overall experience is also depressing, feel-bad, and horrible. Is it any wonder there's an exclamation point in the title?

REVIEW: "Baby Driver"--Talk About a Killer Soundtrack

Somebody who attended the same screening of Baby Driver as me asked what the film was about. My spoiler-free response to her was, "Let's just say it's an unconventional heist movie." Indeed, the basic premise of Edgar Wright's film is about a getaway driver who soundtracks his life (courtesy an iPod playlist of various songs) as he escorts gangs of various trigger-happy criminals.

Known for his Cornetto trilogy of comedies (2004's Shaun of the Dead, 2007's Hot Fuzz, 2013's The World's End), Wright gets his motor running based off of a music video he directed in 2003 (Mint Royale's "Blue Song"). And the British filmmaker does it with both killer style and unexpected substance.

Baby (The Fault In Our Stars' Ansel Elgort) has chronic tinnitus from an accident he had as a kid, and still hears a hum in the eardrums. This explains why he plugs his iPod earphones in to drown out the vibrations with those on par with the Beach Boys. Then he meets a pretty diner waitress named Deborah (Cinderella's Lily James). However, Baby's boss, Doc (the always-engrossing Kevin Spacey), who's been the only father-like figure to him (other than his deaf guardian Joseph), has one last job for him. But Baby wants out, for good.

Ryan Gosling's cinematic cousin?

That's the film in a nutshell. And if any of these story elements sound familiar, they do sort of make the film fall on the conventional side. What makes Wright's script and film (his first shot in the U.S.) stand out, though, is its musical and rhythmic structure. The visual idiosyncrasies from Wright's aforementioned films are still in tact here, mostly for the purpose of the soundtrack and its numerous synchronizations, ranging from artists like Simon & Garfunkel (the film's title comes from one of their songs) to Young MC to Martha Reeves and the Vandellas to Queen. Being the music geek that I am, to a degree, I found this thoroughly engaging. The car chases, for one, are first-rate--and done for real! The opening sequence, set to The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion's "Bellbottoms," sells the movie from frame one and rivals some of the best openings of any film. (Check out this insightful video for a breakdown of that scene.) This sequence, as well as the one-take shot of Baby walking downtown to Dave and Sam's "Harlem Shuffle," highlight Baby's character and his dilemma. And his conversations with Deborah, who represents the life he wants to get away to, wonderfully touch on numerous songs that are about their respective names. (The same applies to his genuine relationship with Joe.)

The film's cast is stellar, with such A-listers as Spacey, Jamie Foxx (a menacing dog of a role), Jon Hamm and Eiza Gonzalez (as a married couple, and possibly a sharp contrast to Baby and Debora, especially when they lose their cool), Jon Bernthal (a scene-stealer), James, and a breakout star in Elgort, who allows Baby to be sympathetic, unpredictable, and universal. He may even rival Ryan Gosling's unnamed "Driver" from 2011's Drive.

Ansel Elgort

As for the story, it's deeper than you may expect (a strength), and not as silly or as fun as the film's title or trailers would suggest (both a strength and a weakness, especially for discerning viewers). Baby is involved in a life of crime, after all. His tunes may be fun and cool, but some of the things he (and audiences) spectate or partake in aren't that fun at all, whether it's occasional profanity or violence that is hysterical (crazy, not comedic) and, at times, shocking. While not on par with the violence that Logan escalated in, it still doesn't make for easy viewing at times. Hence, the film's R-rating.

We can at least give Baby credit for pushing to get out of that lifestyle and toward a more meaningful one, all the while keeping iPods and mixed tapes still in fashion. How's that for unconventional?

REVIEW: "IT" Is Surprisingly Effective But Still Very Frightening (and Troubling) In Its Supernatural and Human Elements

Stephen King's bestselling novel "It" was first published in 1986, and centered on a group of outcast kids in the town of Derry, Maine, who come face to face with an evil entity in the form of a clown. The book was first adapted into a classic T.V. miniseries in 1990, and starred Tim Curry as the villainous Pennywise (who became the source of a lot of kids' nightmares from then on). The new 2017 version, from director Andy Muschietti (2013's Mama) ups the fear factor to 11 and combines supernatural horror (a demonic creature terrorizing children) with human drama and trauma (children who regularly face bullying and even adult abuse).

It all begins with a stormy night in 1988 when little Georgie takes his paper boat (made by his stuttering brother Bill) out into the rain. Soon, Georgie has an encounter in a sewer with a mysterious figure, who promises him a fun adventure. But then, . . . well, you know where this is going, especially if you've read the book. (Cue horrific scene.)

Twelve-year-old Bill and his preteen friends (Richie, Eddie, Stanley, as well as new kid Ben, homeschooled Mike, and girl Beverly) learn their small town has a history of a deadly curse that comes every 27 years. "People die here," one character tells us, "six times the national average. And that's just grown ups. Kids are worse. Way worse." That curse comes in the form of the aforementioned clown, who appears to each kid as the thing they fear the most. For Bill, it's losing his little brother. For Mike, it's rotting corpses of a factory bombing he survived. For Beverly, it's possibly becoming a woman, due, in part, to an apparently, sexually-abusive father. For Richie, it's simply just . . . clowns.

Pennywise: every child's and adult's worst nightmare

Pennywise is as horrific, nightmarish, and unpredictable a villain as I've ever seen on screen, even more than Curry's iconic portrayal. I can't even look at images of actor Bill Skarsgard in his clown makeup without freaking myself out, whether he's starring at you blankly (like above, sort of) or scurrying about in a haunted house, in the sewers, or in a projector (a truly jumpy scene, see below).

There is something intriguing, though, about the difference between facing monsters in fantasy and facing monsters in real life, and overcoming all those fears as a group instead of alone. "What happens when another Georgie goes missing," Bill asks the others. Screenwriter Gary Dauberman was recently interviewed by PluggedIn's Paul Asey about using the supernatural horror genre to tackle such themes. Said Dauberman, "I think that has to do with me really being a believer that there's something that's greater than all of us, and that death is not an end. . . . So writing and researching these stories kind of reaffirms that for me in a way. Even if there's a demonic presence, I'm always going, 'If there's a demonic presence, that means that somewhere out there there's good.' And a lot of times in these movies, the good comes from within." Furthermore, the idea of not letting fear and the thought of being an outsider define you (and "starving" it in the process) is a noble theme and action in and of itself.

The Losers Club

The film (though episodic) is also a strange piece of 80s nostalgia. I did enjoy the little nods to artists like New Kids on the Block and Young MC, and even film titles like 1989's Batman on the town theater marquee. While the cast certainly is phenomenal, and there are some surprisingly poignant moments, there are several more that are problematic and very upsetting. For one thing, the town bullies, led by Henry Bowers, are just sadistic and cruel. But do we really need to hear the other kids cussing out f-bombs every so often? There's also that scene at the lake where the kids swim half-naked and even ogle Beverly. Most of (if not all of) these children clearly have terrible parents, or at least live in a town where parents and grown-ups cannot be trusted (a common theme in popular films of the 80s, from E.T. to The Goonies to Stand By Me).

And, of course, there's all those graphic and violent images that come across the screen every 5-10 minutes or so, including carved torsos, severed heads, razor-sharp teeth, blood shooting out of bathroom sinks a la Carrie or The Shining, a chaarcter who gets stabbed in the neck, another whose arm is bitten off, and a villain whose form disfigures and contorts to horrifying effect. It's a terrifying experience indeed.

REVIEW: "The Boss Baby" Delivers a Surprisingly Creative Spin on Family and Business, Even If It Does Go Through a Few Too Many Diapers

Imagine, or a moment, that Jack Donaghy from NBC's "30 Rock" was an infant, and he starred in his own film, a cross between Look Who's Talking and Glengarry Glen Ross without the cussing. That's the basic concept of DreamWorks Animation's comedy, The Boss Baby (based on an award-winning children's book), which stars Alec Baldwin as the voice of a suit-wearing, adult-speaking toddler.

But the film actually begins with imaginative boy Tim (voiced by Miles Bakshi, grandson of veteran animator Ralph Bakshi, and narrated as an adult by Tobey Maguire), who goes on many imaginative and creative adventures with his loving and supporting parents (Jimmy Kimmel and Lisa Kudrow), from Congo exploring to deep sea diving. This visually comedic prologue is followed by a cheery and silly allude to Fred Astaire's "Cheek to Cheek," and puts a new spin on the whole "Where do babies come from" notion--a different realm than Warner Animation's Storks took as babies here are divided into either families or management (depending apparently on their ticklish habits).

And then, the Baby shows up. Obviously, chaos happens in the family and in Tim's own life. And when Tim finds out the Baby can talk (and who he is), he plots to get rid of the Baby. Pretty obvious, as we've seen this theme in several potty-humor kids films. Furthermore, it's the Baby's belief that "there's only so much love to go around," and not enough for him or Tim.

And when they're both grounded after a mishap and forced to spend three weeks together, the Baby confesses: he's been sent from his company "up above" to stop a rival puppy corporation (where Tim's parents work) from releasing a new puppy that's reportedly being made, in order to get promoted to upper management (as if up above wasn't enough). Plus, "babies aren't getting as much love as they used to," he tells us. The action and mayhem that follows gives "Rugrats" some company, and puts Baby Geniuses to shame.

Kudos to director Tom McGrath (2005's Madagascar and 2010's Megamind) who keeps the visual style and comedy coming. Separating itself from the more complex and human-like work done on previous DreamWorks films like Shrek and How to Train Your Dragon, The Boss Baby's animation recalls the style of Disney, MGM and Warner Bros from the Fourties through the Sixties, with silly character designs a la Dick & Jane, as well as big heads and small bodies. The opening credit sequence alone reminded me of 101 Dalmatians. There are also clever supporting characters, including the Boss Baby's earthbound "business partners" Stacy, a group of triplets, and big Jimbo. But it's Baldwin's voice work alone that's worth the price of admission.

What the film does suffer from, at times, is a predictable subplot involving a former baby boss who plots revenge against a rival corps, and an unnecessary dimwitted, cross-dressing "Scary Poppins" bodyguard. Personally, I would have chosen a different song for the closing credits than the Burt Bacharach cover. And some of the content is pretty deep (Tim asks at one point, "Are you the baby Jesus?"), which will easily fly over kids' heads. But even if the story is full of one too many subplots and few too many diaper/poop/butt gags (as can be expected in a PG-rated cartoon feature), its creative and fun take on family and business is well worth it.

There's a Benjamin Button-/Peter Pan-esque moment where the Boss Baby tells Tim, "I may look like a baby, but I was born all grown up." It's obvious many people, particularly preteens and adults, want respect and dignity and success. And yet, there's something poignant about the theme of never growing up, yet never having anyone to share your life with (whether children or adults) and, as a result, feeling empty without them or seeing the effect it has on both. Imagine if all the Jack Donaghy's in the world heard that.