REVIEW: "Stranger Things 3" Returns to Genuine Scares and Character-Driven Plots, But More Content Issues Hinder the Latest Adventure

A group of kids, a girl with telekinetic abilities, a police chief, a worried mother, and a few high school teenagers investigating mysterious occurrences in their small Indiana town. Such are the elements that define Netflix's critically- and commercially-acclaimed nostalgia series Stranger Things. The brainchild of creators Matt & Ross Duffer was a surprise sensation when its first season premiered back in 2016. Its homage to 1980s sci-fi, horror and pop culture remains entertaining and gripping.

Season 2 (from 2017) was just as cliffhanging and exciting, especially with those Ghostbusters costumes, giant Mind Flayers from a place called the Upside Down, and "justice for Barb" (referring to a fan-favorite character from the first season). But the season finale felt like a letdown, going a bit standard issue as well as a bit of a rush. In fact, most of the season felt overwhelmed with pop culture references, drawing attention to themselves a little more than they needed to.

This current third season, to its credit, gets back to character- and ensemble-driven action and genuine stakes, all while proving the darkest and most violent (and even troubling) season. And in terms of its intensity, this season doesn't play it safe--and that's both an advantage and a disadvantage.

"One Summer Can Change Everything"

Set during the summer of 1985 around the 4th of July (the same year that saw the short-lived release of "New Coke" soft drink), the town of Hawkins, Indiana, is in transition, what with the opening of the new Starcourt Mall, but much to the dismay of small-business employees and citizens in economic and property turmoil.

(left to right) Maya Hawke, Joe Keery, and Gaten Matarazzo 

Meanwhile, the main kids (Mike, Lucas, Dustin, Will, and Max) have become teenagers, while their parents or adult figures are dealing with various other changes in their community. Chief Jim Hopper (showing off a Tom Selleck mustache and pudgy dad bod) is having difficulty with teenage growth and hormones between Mike and Eleven, while also expressing concern for Will's mom, Joyce, as well as her safety and current home situation. Eleven starts learning more about the disadvantages of dating, as well as female independence when she starts hanging out with Lucas's girlfriend Max. Will is having difficulty moving on from childhood ("We're not kids anymore," Mike tells him), while still carrying some traumatic effects from his previous time in the Upside Down.

Former boyfriend and girlfriend Nancy and Steve each have new jobs, and each dealing with real-world and social issues: Nancy's at the local newspaper along with current boyfriend (and Will's brother) Jonathan, while the other employees are sexist and misogynistic, and Steve's at the ice cream parlor of the mall, all while struggling with popularity and developing a new relationship with co-worker, Robin, and continuing his unlikely friendship with Dustin, who's just returned from summer camp with the news of a "hotter than Phoebe Cates" girlfriend who may or may not exist. "Isn't it time to move on from popularity?" Dustin asks Steve. Even bad boy Billy (Max's older brother), while much more intimidating here, is given a more dimensional character arc, and a reason for why his character is the way he is.

Speaking of Billy, strange activity occurs once again in Hawkins. (As a series staple, how could it not?) This time, there's a power outage, magnets falling from refrigerators, a secret Russian organization (it's always the Russians, isn't it?), rats getting infested, various people disappearing or acting weird, and unlikely "heroes" deciphering an intercepted Russian code. (Steve, Robin, Dustin, and Lucas's kid sister Erica practically steal the show in this latter regard.)

There's also the return of the villainous Mind Flayer, who starts gathering an army by infecting various things (from rats to people, including Billy) and mutating them to disgusting effect a la body horror (think David Cronenberg's The Fly crossed with John Carpenter's The Thing), supposedly against Eleven, the only person who can stop it.

"Commence Operation Child Endangerment"

If Season 1 was a Steven Spielberg-meets-Stephen King homage, and Season 2 was arguably a Ghostbusters-meets-Gremlins affair, this third season is like an unseen collaboration between Carpenter and Cronenberg. One episode is even titled, "The Mall Rats," perhaps recalling Kevin Smith's cult classic from 1995 (referenced in this year's Captain Marvel as well).

If the season has a few weaknesses, they are as follows. First and foremost, many viewers have criticized the arc of Hopper's character, who comes across as over-the-top and aggressive many times, despite his "heart-to-heart" speech he writes. (His arc from Season 1 remains his best.) There's also the subplots involving Russian scientists (a little ridiculous) and a Terminator-like assassin (one-dimensional), as well as the role of the Hawkins mayor in terms of small-town American capitalism. There's also that very brief subplot between Mike's mom & Billy, leftover from the end of Season 2 (which thankfully doesn't go as far as it could've, but still).

Plus, the aforementioned violence results in more graphic (and even shocking) imagery than the first two seasons put together. And the surprising amount of harsh language (much spoken by our kid heroes) is very disappointing and unnecessary. Some viewers may also be surprised by a character who subtly comes out of the closet (supposedly to keep with current times and pop culture embracing such topics).

Those elements notwithstanding, this third season wraps up brilliantly and poignantly. (At least before the end credits roll.) There is reportedly a fourth season underway. So, with that being said, here's hoping a few missed opportunities and a new and maturing adventure (with some restraint, please!) will carry on what has otherwise been a gripping, nostalgic, and brilliantly-written and -acted series.

See you on the other side, nerds. ~Erica

RETROSPECT: "2001: A Space Odyssey" is Quintessential Kubrick, Groundbreaking Sci-Fi, and Antithetical Storytelling and Moviegoing

Stanley Kubrick was widely regarded as one of the most celebrated and polarizing directors of the 20th Century. Fellow filmmaker and friend Steven Spielberg once said about Kubrick, "The way he told stories was sometimes antithetical to the way we are accustomed to receiving stories."

And while film history (and legend) has made no secret of Kubrick's reported behind-the-scenes "creative control" and "perfectionism" (which cannot be excused or taken lightly), there's no denying how he has changed the game in various genres he has tackled and mastered in his nearly-fifty year career in the film business up until his untimely death in 1999. He's tackled everything from dystopic crime (1971's controversial A Clockwork Orange), horror (1980's The Shining), period drama (1975's Barry Lyndon), political satire (1964's Dr. Strangelove), sword and sandals epics (1960's Spartacus), war (1957's Paths of Glory and 1987's Full Metal Jacket), and of course science-fiction.

2001: A Space Odyssey is a story that spans millions of years of "scientific evolution," from the dawn of time with prehistoric apes, to the space program in the titular year, to the malevolent A.I. program known as HAL 9000, and to a trippy stargate dimension where time and space work differently. At the center is a mysterious object, known as a monolith, which supposedly represents a "higher intelligence," compared with artificial intelligence made by man. The worldview here is very much scientific and secular, and, on the other hand, very contemplative and thought-provoking.

I recently had an opportunity to see a 70mm "unrestored" screening of this film, as it was originally released in 1968 (and which was also screened at last year's Cannes Film Festival). And I must say, the crisp (though grainy) Panavision picture quality and thunderous sound design, despite feeling a little dated (like the 1960s' version of the future), really puts audiences in both the world of the film and in the era when was first released. The result remains stunning, astounding, and haunting.

"Open the pod bay doors, HAL."

Kubrick and co-writer Arthur C. Clarke (widely regarded as one of the seminal writers of science-fiction in the 20th Century) created, perhaps, the most groundbreaking, enduring, and influential science-fiction film, that has set a standard for its genre and for filmmaking in general. It would be another nine years before filmmaker George Lucas would take us to "a galaxy far, far away". Yet, while Lucas's space-opera saga is more serial and entertaining, Kubrick and Clarke's script is more intellectual and challenging, with more questions than answers by the time the credits roll.

The use of classical music (particularly Richard Strauss's commanding "Also Sprach Zarathustra" and Johann Strauss's magnificent "The Blue Danube," the latter being a personal favorite sequence), dense yet stunning cinematography and seamless visual effects (courtesy Kubrick and effects supervisor Douglas Trumbell, who would later collaborate with filmmakers Ridley Scott and Terrence Malick), and epic scale that still holds up more than 50 years later (actors Keir Dullea and Gary Lockwood, who played astronauts Dave Bowman and Frank Poole, can attest to that). Two other things are quite impressive: the fact that most of the film (including the first 30 minutes, as well as the climactic 20 minute sequence through the stargate) make "2001" feel like a silent film, but with such sight to behold and such mystery to hear; and the fact that the filmmakers made something as simple as an electronic "red eye" seem so threatening and frightening. (I should note that the audience I attended this screening with found some of HAL's dialogue quite amusing.)

This is quintessential Stanley Kubrick, and featured many of the trademarks he used throughout the remainder of his career. Dynamic symmetry. Tracking shots. Provocative and unconventional narratives. A haunting score. Long and spacious takes. Unpredictable direction. Themes of dehumanization or the dark side of humanity.

I had seen this film only three or four times before, and I can honestly say, it was this screening that enabled me to really grasp the full scope of the story without losing interest or resorting to boredom (not to say this is the kind of film that won't test the patience of many conventional moviegoers, to reiterate Spielberg's aforementioned quote). The credits, though, are worth staying through, whether to soak in the various themes and ideas displayed by Kubrick and Clarke, or to simply hear Johann Strauss's magnificent score. Either way, 2001: A Space Odyssey remains arguably Kubrick's best film, and one of the seminal motion picture experiences ever.

REVIEW: The Existence of "Toy Story 4," Like Its New Spork Character, Proves Meaningful and Entertaining

Many classic film franchises have gone through initial endings over the last few decades, only to reemerge with a new installment years later. Star Wars comes to mind, for example, what with a 16 year gap between 1983's Return of the Jedi and 1999's The Phantom Menace, for one. There's also Rocky (a 16-year-gap between the fifth installment from 1990, and 2006's Rocky Balboa; and another nine years until 2005's Creed) and Mad Max (30 years between 1985's Beyond Thunderdome and 2015's Fury Road), to name a few. And then there's Pixar Animation Studios' Toy Story.

When the first-ever computer-animated feature film debuted in November of 1995, the world was not only introduced to pull-string cowboy doll Woody (voiced by Tom Hanks), space ranger action figure Buzz Lightyear (voiced by Tim Allen), and the whole gang of toys who came alive when no one was looking. It opened up a whole new Pandora's toybox of creative possibilities in visual effects submerged with groundbreaking, original storytelling. (This film was the first of its kind to be nominated for a Best Original Screenplay Academy Award.) The sequels that followed (in 1999 and 2010, respectfully) also took the adventures of these characters from a kid's room to a pizza parlor, to a greedy toy collector's apartment, to the airport, to a day care center, and to the garbage dump--the one place every toy dreads.

More importantly, these stories were driven by the central relationships between toys and their owners, as well as engaging character arcs (particularly for Woody, Buzz, and cowgirl doll Jessie) that went from jealous, popular and selfish, to humble, supportive, and team-oriented. You could say the main lesson in the first picture was embracing true identities and working together outside one's own little world--or toy box.

There was also the subsequent lesson in becoming socially-conscious as to what may happen when a child will one day outgrow his or her toys, despite choosing to not miss the cherished moments. Audiences first got a glimpse of this theme during a powerful montage in Toy Story 2, as Jessie (voiced by Joan Cusack) sadly recounts her previous owner growing up and losing interest in her. And when owner Andy grew up and was preparing to go to college in Toy Story 3, all the remaining toys, including Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head (Don Rickles and Estelle Harris), dinosaur Rex (Wallace Shawn), piggy bank Hamm (Pixar regular John Ratzenberger), Slinky Dog (Jim Varney, and later Blake Clarke), pantomime horse Bullseye, and the green aliens from Pizza Planet, questioned their uncertain future, until they discovered a day care center where they could potentially live without owners. Only when they realize, too little too late, that the place is really a dark prison, ruled by the tyrannical Lots'O Huggin' Bear (a character with a heartbreaking history of abandonment, and a deeply tragic worldview), do they eventually plan to make a prison break a la The Great Escape (with hilarious results) before a potentially life-threatening encounter.

Nevertheless, this third film was an entertaining and worthwhile feature, proving just how great and exceptional this franchise has improved and progressed in story and in character development. And its ending was such a tear-jerking and bittersweet farewell, that many considered it a perfect conclusion to this film series, even though it does subtly suggesting a sense of continuation and new life. And even with three subsequent short films and two television specials for ABC, a fourth Toy Story film was something nobody thought they needed, let alone thought was necessary.

In an article published by Yahoo! Movies in early 2010, Toy Story 3 director Lee Unkrich touched on the challenge and conscious decision in making a sequel, and its necessity or lack thereof:

We don’t make sequels just for the sake of making them, but in this case, we truly love these characters and this world. They’re the foundation of our company. We think of them as people. We don’t think of them as cartoon characters, and so we really wanted to visit that world again. But we didn’t want to do it if we couldn’t come up with something great (my emphasis).

Similarily, Pixar co-founder and Toy Story co-creator John Lassetter (who steps down from Pixar later this year after some unfortunate allegations from 2017) added that they didn't "want to do anything with [these characters] unless it lives up to or surpasses what's gone before." Lassetter added,

Toy Story 3 ended Woody and Buzz's story with Andy so perfectly that for a long time, we never even talked about doing another Toy Story movie. But when [co-writers] Andrew [Stanton], Pete [Doctor], Lee [Unkrich], and I came up with this new idea, I just could not stop thinking about it. It was so exciting to me, I knew we had to make this movie . . .

What initially started out as a love story between Woody and Bo Peep reportedly went through many changes (as is typically with the making of animated films), several different writers (including a draft by Will McCormack and Rashida Jones, who wrote 2012's Celeste and Jesse Forever), and a new director.

It seems only fitting that an arts-and-crafts-made spork who questions his own existence is one of the central characters in the final version of Toy Story 4, an installment whose own existence has nonetheless been questioned by many a moviegoer and/or Toy Story devotee. Admits first-time director Josh Cooley (who co-wrote the Oscar-nominated screenplay for Inside Out):

We had the same questions everybody else has right now: "I thought you guys were done." But we had those questions five years ago when we started... We love the end of [the third film], and feel like that's the completion of Woody and Andy's story. But there was more Woody story to tell."

Not only is the film not a mere cash-grab, but (according to early critical reviews and acclaim, including a near-100-percent "fresh" rating on Rotten Tomatoes) it knows what it's doing by surprising audiences with not only new characters you won't soon forget, but also with a well-crafted story that stands on its own apart from the previous three films, and yet expands and progresses it with genuine adventure, comedy and heartfelt emotion.

Andy's toys have now been passed on to a new owner: a little imaginative girl named Bonnie, who is currently making the difficult transition into kindergarten. Meanwhile, even though she promised Andy she'd take good care of all of his toys, Woody feels left out the most.

The central journey for Woody that follows come, in a way, full circle from the original film. He believes the objective of a toy is to make a child happy--in his case, to make Bonnie happy, at any cost (a parallel to parental figures wanting to be there for children). He begins to see that anew when she creates an arts-and-crafts project in school, made out of a spork, popsicle stick pieces, google eyes, and pipe cleaners, which Woody collected for her from a nearby trash bin. She aptly names her new creation Forky (hysterically voiced by Arrested Development's Tony Hale). As Woody claims, "This toy is crucial to helping Bonnie get adjusted to kindergarten."

The gang's back, but only just

What follows is a road trip adventure, as Bonnie's family (and many of the other toys) take a week-long vacation in a rented RV, while Woody tries to show Forky that his existence is not for nothing, even while wrestling with his own fears of growing up, letting go, and moving on. And when they pass a small-town antique store (named, oddly enough, "Second Chance Antiques"), the story starts taking several surprising detours from there, putting a new meaning on what toys were made for, and what it means to embrace change, independence and loyalty, and to value our time.

While it is a joy to see classic toys in brief cameo appearances, such as RC the race car, Tinny (from Pixar's classic short Tin Toy), and Combat Carl (referenced in the first movie, and seen in 2013's Toy Story of Terror), one issue that several viewers may have with this installment is the fact that many of the original toy characters (Rex, Hamm, Slinky Dog, Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head, Jessie, Bullseye) have smaller roles. Then again, many of them did have smaller roles in the first movie as well, which indicates another full-circle aspect. The real questions to consider, in this regard, are 1) What is the main story that is being told here, and 2) which characters support that story the most?

Buzz, meanwhile, goes on his own "secret mission" to help Woody, but seems to have his own crisis of conscience and self-guidance, relying on his command buttons to direct him. It would have been easier (and lazy) to have him go through the same "deluded" state as he did in the previous films. But again, he's gone through that three times already, and that role has been passed down (sort of) to Forky, which gives Buzz a fresh (and more mature, if slightly misguided) journey.

In spite of that, it's really the new toy characters (along with the return of Bo Peep, voiced with charm and empowerment by Annie Potts) that steal the show. Along with Forky, there's antique store doll Gabby Gabby (voiced by Mad Men's Christina Hendricks), who has a broken voice box, a questionable agenda, and some creepy ventriloquist dolls as henchmen, but proves a great example of a sympathetic villain (a polar opposite to previous franchise villains Stinky Pete and Lots'O). Add in carnival plush toys Ducky and Bunny (voiced by none other than Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele a.k.a. Key & Peele); miniature playset officer Giggle McDimples (voiced by Cloak & Dagger's Ally Maki); and Canadian daredevil racer Duke Caboom (voiced by none other than Keanu Reeves, proving a hilarious stroke of genius).

(Left to right) Giggle McDimples, Duke Caboom, and Gabby Gabby

Some of these characters have never experienced, and yet have longed for, what it's like to be there for a child. The most profound example (even though we're not quite sure of her character most of the time) is through Gabby Gabby, as she pines for the affections of a little girl who frequents the antique store she resides in. A heartbreaking element adds to Woody's own perspective, and as Bo Peep has challenged him to look beyond his own world of a children's bedroom and of just one child ("There's plenty of kids out there"). It's a rare and beautiful case that leads to what is arguably the film's most tear-jerking scene. (And I did cry at least twice during this film.)

The score by Randy Newman (who has been involved with all of the films) hits all the right notes, especially in the climax, which Hanks and Allen reportedly couldn't get through in the recording booth without crying. If the third film was a goodbye to Andy, this fourth adventure is a goodbye to the other toys, to old friends, and a conclusion of the hero's journey (in this case, potentially, Woody's arc), while providing a sense of continuation for others. (Please stay through the credits.) Therefore, Toy Story 4's existence does have purpose, and it does have meaning, unlike so many sequels nowadays (especially those from a disappointing summer in 2019 so far).

Pixar has gone on recent record that they are done making sequels as well as Toy Story films, beginning with next year's fairy tale comedy Onward (from Monsters University director Dan Scanlon) and currently-underwraps project Soul (from Up and Inside Out director Pete Docter). There have been reports, however, that Forky will get his own short-film adventures on the new Disney+ streaming service, which launches this November. Either way, Pixar has done a wonderful job of nurturing (and, at least for film, concluding) the legacy of this franchise. Buzz Lightyear doesn't say, "To infinity and beyond" for nothing.

REVIEWS: DC Makes A New Splash (and Zap) with "Aquaman" and "Shazam!"

It's no secret by now that the initial theatrical efforts from DC Films (in an attempt to equal Marvel by creating its own cinematic universe) have been disappointing. And with the critical and financial failure that was 2017's "theatrical version" of Justice League., many insiders questioned the future of the company and the franchise.

In the midst of all this, however, they did find a success with 2017's Wonder Woman, courtesy director Patty Jenkins and star-in-the-making Gal Gadot, who each brought a sincere approach to the superhero and war genres (and to lead female heroes) that was nothing short of revolutionary and worthwhile. In an article written by Vulture magazine just before the film's release that year, DC Entertainment president Diane Nelson addressed the company's goal in deemphasizing their films as part of a "cinematic universe."

Our intention, certainly, moving forward is using the continuity to help make sure nothing is diverging in a way that doesn't make sense, but there's no insistence upon an overall story line or interconnectivity in that universe... Moving forward, you'll see the DC movie universe being a universe, but one that comes from the heart of the filmmaker who's creating them.

"Permission to come aboard."

Anticipation seemed to be at stake for their next scheduled release, Aquaman, over a year before its debut last December. Two things seemed certain, however: 1) director James Wan managed to make an initially laughable character into a hulking hero with brute force, thanks in part to the charisma and charm of actor Jason Mamoa (Khal Drogo from Game of Thrones), and 2) the underwater visual effects were unlike anything seen on the big screen before.

Upon it's release, Aquaman proved more of a triumph in visual spectacle over engrossing storytelling, despite its immersive world-building and its impressive A-list talent (including Mamoa as the titular Arthur Curry, Amber Heard as warrior Mera, Patrick Wilson as Arthur's arrogant and menacing half-brother Orm, Nicole Kidman as Queen Atlanta, whose memory and arc drives Arthur's journey; Willem Dafoe as Atlantan vizier Vulco, and Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as the villainous and vengeful Black Manta). The story also proves episodic, jumping between scenes with plot holes, and suffers from too much exposition and some convoluted political agendas at times. (The opening scene, for one, could have avoided voice over narration, for my money's worth.)

In terms of the character and their dynamics/motives, Arthur Curry's is, in a sense, relatable. He wrestles with responsibility and identity, and wants nothing to do with claiming his place in the kingdom of Atlantis, where he is spit on as an illegitimate child. (These parent-child dynamics could have been touched on more, especially between Arthur and Atlanta, to some degree.) Yet, as Mera states, him being the product of two different worlds is what makes him a worthy character, especially with what he learns as far as mercy goes (showing such to his opponents, contrary to the supposed ways of Atlantis when it comes to combat). Speaking of Atlantis, the thematic imagery of a fallen kingdom in need of more than a new king, but above all a hero, as Mera claims, represents her belief in what Arthur can do for both worlds. As another character adds, "A king fights only for his kingdom. You fight for everyone."

On the other hand, the film is very impressive, first-rate, and fascinating with its visual effects and CGI, which make up for some of the films other flaws. On the same ranks as Gotham City (in Batman), Themyscira (in Wonder Woman), and Wakanda (in Black Panther), Atlantis is one of the most immersive places ever brought to the screen, and feels like its own character in the movie. The same goes for its many colorful set pieces and stunning cinematography, from an awesome character entrance in a submarine fight, to Arthur and Mera's journeys through the Sahara desert, into underground sand caves and to an Italian village; to underwater battles with sharks, seahorses, and giant crabs (mind-boggling).

Sure, there may be some easy similarities to Marvel's Black Panther (in terms of kingdom dynamics between Arthur and Orm). At least Aquaman has its own visual language and works as its own standalone movie, despite a very subtle reference to events that happened in Justice League a year before (at least, again, the "theatrical version"). It also as one of 2018's standouts in a year of diverse superheroes and heroes of color (something that Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse also pulled off extremely well).

On the other hand, it does seem to echo cinematic epics of yesteryear, melodrama and cliched dialogue and all. It does echo stories and legends we grew up with as children, but in a slightly different way. In those regards, it's perhaps no wonder the film went on to become a $1 billion worldwide hit, even besting the Dark Knight trilogy in the process. And it set the stage for another seemingly-laughable and over-the-top DC character who instead showed (from its entertaining teaser trailer) genuine thrills and grounded reality with a zap--and a magic word.

"I am seeking a champion strong in spirit and pure of heart."
"I'm not that person. I don't know if anyone is, really."

Shazam! tells the story of foster teenager Billy Batson (Asher Angel), who encounters an ancient wizard (Djimon Hounsou) and is embedded with superpowers, becoming an adult superhero just by saying the word "Shazam!" (Think Big-meets-Superman.)

Distributed by New Line Cinema (previously known for releasing darker comic book adaptations like 1997's Spawn and 1998's Blade), Shazam!, from the opening sequence, has an 80s Amblin flavor to it a la dark fantasy films of the time like Gremlins or Ghostbusters. It's interesting the film opens with the villain's backstory (Thaddeus Sivana, played as an adult by Mark Strong), who becomes obsessed with searching for the central magical realm as well as misguided power in the form of the "Seven Deadly Sins" (with envy being the worst). Strong is no stranger to comic book movie roles, having appeared in Green Lantern, Kick-Ass, and both Kingsman films. Here, he plays a complex villain accompanied (or rather, manipulated) by frightening creatures, sure to give even parents nightmares, even if that makes the main protagonist's story that much stronger.

True, as light as the film is compared with recent DC outings (by not being bleak or depressing), it is still dark, but more in terms of spirituality and fantasy, emphasizing the advantages and disadvantages of using powers. And the fact that they set the story during Christmas time furthers Warner Bros' interesting track record of such films. (Look at 1992's Batman Returns and 1987's Lethal Weapon. Even Marvel did the same thing with 2013's Iron Man 3, courtesy Lethal Weapon-writer Shane Black.)

Make no mistake, Shazam! is a fun and entertaining movie otherwise, with many clever homages and references to other DC heroes and a fresh take on common genre tropes. Zachary Levi (of TV's Chuck) fits the role of Billy Batson (as the adult superhero) like a glove, perfectly capturing childlike wonder and excitement, as well as genuine development. The suit, as cheesy as it looks with its bright colors, glowing bolt-shaped emblem and white cape, is a winner--almost like something out of a Ralph Baskhi film (ditto the awesome credits sequence). We thoroughly believe Billy's friendship (as Shazam) with Freddy (Jack Dylan Grazer, one of the kids from 2017's It), the self-aware voice for all things superhero, as they figure out various superpowers and abilities, with hilarious results.

As far as the foster family goes, the film does take its time to get to know every central member, each proving loving and supportive, as well as making due (and a difference) with who we are and what we have. This particular emphasis on family and a longing to belong (similar to Aquaman) is illustrated in characters who come from broken families or are damaged by absent or neglecting parents, and who feel unseen, but who learn to make due (and a difference) with who they are and what they do have, including people who care and fighting for such (a "hero" moment, if ever there was one). As one character says, "What good is power if you have no one to share it with?"

Furthermore, Shazam! solidifies that the new direction DC has been going--with more emphasis on director-driven feature films than shared universes a la Marvel--is on a more original footing. And it'll be intriguing to see what kind of impact they actually make with the anticipated releases of Todd Phillips' Joker (starring Joaquin Phoenix) this October, Cathy Yan's Harley Quinn spin-off Birds of Prey (starring Margot Robbie) next February, and Patty Jenkins' follow-up Wonder Woman 1984 (starring Gal Gadot) next summer.

Joaquin Phoenix in Joker

Gal Gadot in Wonder Woman 1984

RETROSPECT: "Forrest Gump" Is More Than A Box of Chocolates

One of the first film images I remember having a strong reaction to as a child was seeing the character Lt. Dan (played by Gary Sinise) without his legs in 1994's Forrest Gump. I had never before seen a film image that visually or viscerally painful and strong. Simply put, you could, in a sense, feel the physical and emotional pain of this character. (I had a similar, perhaps stronger, response to later films like 1993's Schindler's List and 1998's Saving Private Ryan.)

That kind of visual effects trickery is peppered throughout the film, as is its unconventional, yet straightforward, storytelling (which director Robert Zemeckis never forsakes along the way, as is one of his many trademarks). Viewers are then initially unsure of what's going to happen to this character, where he's going to go, and what he's going to do, as Forrest (played memorably by Tom Hanks) tells his story from a park bench at a bus stop to different people who come and go.

Based on Winston Bloom's novel (and adapted for the screen by Eric Roth), Forrest Gump is a simple man from Alabama, with an IQ of 75, who lives an extraordinary (if episodic) life through many significant moments in history from the 1950s to the early-1980s, from when he was a little boy with leg braces, to when he became a football star, a Vietnam war hero, a shrimp boat captain, a ping-pong champion, and a runner across America. Not to mention meeting a few US Presidents and a former Beatle along the way. You could say Forrest sort of echoes Peter Sellars' Chance the Gardener from 1979's Being There.

"It used to be, I ran to get where I was going. I never thought it would take me anywhere."

The landmark visual effects by Industrial Light & Magic seemlessly incorporate Hanks into real archival footage with past presidents (such as when he meets JFK after drinking several Dr. Pepper sodas), in addition to how they digitally removed Lt. Dan's legs. This effect on history, both visual and viscerally, is still quite remarkable 25 years later. Plus, Zemeckis's skill in using popular music from each respective decade (as well as Alan Silvestri's moving, often magical score) to push the story forward is worthy of praise.

What makes Forrest's story even more powerful (and, at times, heartbreaking) is how his simple upbringing and innocence contrasts against an ever-growing, "confusing," and (in Sinise's words) "crippled" America affected by war, drugs, alcoholism, sex, and politics. And it is sad to see such depravity and harshness portrayed in certain scenes, nothing like Forrest describing "every kind of rain there is".

Plus, the embodiment of the feather floating around during the opening credits serves as a significant metaphor for floating through life, as opposed to being here for a reason, for a destiny. When one character asks Forrest if he's "given any thought to [his] future," this could be interpreted as either throwing caution to the wind, or taking life as it comes at you; drifting through life, or being intentional in it. Either way, it's a topic worthy of discussion, as is the notion of sudden impacts in life--that is, a reminder that things could end "just like that". Hard but true.

"I'm not a smart man, but I know what love is."

On the other hand, it is quite moving to see how Forrest (no matter how outlandish or ridiculous he may seem) impacts the people around him, if only for a moment. Whether its his "Mama" (Sally Field), who encourages him to never look at himself as anything less than anybody or everybody else; his fellow soldier, best friend, and shrimp-talker Bubba (Mykelti Williamson); or his life-long love Jenny (Robin Wright), a beautiful girl damaged by the world since childhood, whom Forrest loves unconditionally, despite her constant misguided and reckless search for what she believes is "love," which she apparently never received from an abusive father.

It could be argued that Jenny is an example of what happens when you don't make peace with the pain of your past, something Forrest learns through running and eventually learning to move on. In other words, embracing what you've experienced or lived through, and going from there. But it's, perhaps, Lt. Dan who is the most transformed and developed character of them all, who goes from blaming Forrest for inadvertently interfering with what he believes was his destiny (and family tradition) to die in battle to, in time, seeing the profound impact this has on him.

"For some reason, what I was doing seemed to make sense to people."

This is a rare film that is both hilariously quotable and very moving with subtle sentimentality. It's epic filmmaking on a personal level, with a story that reflects "unsung heroes who make a difference and do so much [in service to others]," according to Sinise. To me, its a personal story of a man nobody saw potential in, and yet who goes on to live an extraordinary life, no matter how outlandish it may seem.