REVIEW: "Leave No Trace" Leaves An Aching But Worthwhile Mark

I first became aware of Debra Granik's latest directorial feature, Leave No Trace, while reading through an article a few months back about films that had premiered at the Sundance Film Festival earlier this year. I didn't really become invested until I read a review about the film less than a week before I saw it. I was immediately struck by the central and profound father-daughter story set in the wilderness, as well as its transition to modern civilization and back again.

The story (based on the fictional 2009 novel, "My Abandonment," by Peter Rock) centers on a war veteran named Will (indie and blockbuster veteran Ben Foster), who struggles with PTSD, and who tries to maintain a way of life for himself and his 13-year-old daughter Tom (newcomer Thomasin Harcourt McKenzie) by living off the grid (illegally) on public park land.

From the opening scene, I was immediately moved and entranced by the relationship not only between these two characters, but also their relationship with nature--the only lifestyle Tom has apparently ever known. The way they get fires going. The plants they grow. The rare times they go into the nearest town for food and medicine. The way they practice emergency drills. The way they communicate with clicking sounds. Even the nightmares that Will has (possibly memories of his late wife, and the mother Tom never knew). And Michael McDonough's cinematography of the woods and nature in general is so beautifully done.

Thomasin Harcourt McKenzie

The majority of the emotions and character motivations come through dialogue-free moments. This is obviously a different genre than the equally-engrossing-though-more-frightening A Quiet Place. Yet, there is some intensity in Dickon Hinchliffe's otherwise-tender score and in the sound design, as Tom and Will are forced back into society by social services and recommended to live in an isolated home, but still in touch with nature. "A lot of people like to imagine living the way you two were living," one man tells them. Will and Tom may be by themselves in this setting, but they're not the same. Not from thereon, at least.

Foster and McKenzie are simply amazing. Their portrayal of a relationship that is tender and conflicting, with growing and quiet tension, is thoroughly believable and heartbreaking. (Some viewers may recall such films as Into the Wild and, maybe, Room, in terms of these dynamics.) Obviously, it becomes difficult for these characters (more so for Will) to adjust to a civilian lifestyle. Will's job, for one thing, includes cutting down Christmas trees, like watching nature being forced down around/along with him.

Based on the film's trailer, we think we know what will happen, but the second half of the story turns out to be as unpredictable as the characters' directions. "I don't think we knew where we were going," says Tom. They face different conditions, altitudes and subtle pressures. Other characters they come in contact with range from professional truck drivers to RV residents and landlords, an army medic, and even a beekeeper, who all mean well but make it hard for Will to adapt. (What's interesting how metaphorical beekeeping in terms of gaining the trust of potentially wild creatures in a large world.)

Thomasin Harcourt McKenzie and Ben Foster

The ultimate question viewers ask is, what are these characters (particularly Will) running from? Are they capable of social skills and not just intellectual ones? Foster has played soldiers before (in 2009's The Messenger and 2013's Lone Survivor), but, perhaps, never to this level of internal struggle.

Granik's previous feature, 2010's Winter's Bone, was a bleak tale set in the Ozarks of Missouri, where a seventeen-year-old girl (a then-unknown Jennifer Lawrence) searches for her missing father while trying to keep a roof over her family's home in the woods. Like that film, Granik has found a remarkable and amazing young actress to fill her lead female's shoes. McKenzie (a New Zealand native) shows real innocence and development in Tom, not just by how society has impacted her, but by experiencing a sense of community and belonging, whether with animals or people. She even becomes something of a mother figure to her father. The notion of growing up and letting your children go is nothing new to parent-children stories, but Granik's adapted screenplay (co-written by Anne Rosselini) uses its atmosphere and circumstances to make it fresh and even heartbreaking.

Quite simply, Leave No Trace is a tender and aching film. It's one of the best you'll see this year, hands down.

REVIEW: "Won't You Be My Neighbor?" and Fred Rogers' Legacy

If you were to put Theodore Geisel (Dr. Seuss), Charles Schultz, Walt Disney, and Fred Rogers in the same category of people who have entertained children and general audiences for generations, Fred Rogers arguably had the most positive and warm impact on them, on and off the screen. In this writer's humble opinion, he was the warmest man I've ever known through television. His pioneering series, "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood," was a special part of so many lives, including yours truly. It represented a safe place where children (the target audience) could visit and learn, along with characters like the puppet, Daniel the Tiger, and even see an expression of their own anxieties.

Morgan Neville's latest documentary, Won't You Be My Neighbor?, chronicles the life and legacy of Rogers, on and off the screen, from his native Pittsburgh to his background in child psychiatry to becoming an ordained minister in the Presbyterian Church to his choice of working through television, beginning at WQED in his native Pittburgh.

What we see or hear on the screen is part of who we become. ~Fred Rogers

He knew that children (including minorities and handicaps) would be influenced and affected by the ever-growing popularity of television, considering how cynical, crude and slapstick many of the shows at the time (and in years to come) were. He radically sought to use television as a means to influence children by helping them understand and grow through the world around them. "I knew there are things in this world I couldn't protect my child from," agrees one parental figure in the documentary.

The show may have been made for children, but it was anything but baby food. (Click here and here.) It's interesting that Neville opens this feature with a home movie of Rogers (also a musician) wondering if "modulation"--that is, the "different modulations of life"--was too complex to explain to children.

What I never really knew (let alone grasped) was how Rogers never shied away from sensitive or difficult topics, such as divorce, death, assassination, grief, and war. Talk about parallels between the real world and this "neighborhood." He remembered what it was like to be a child (e.g., using imagination through hard times) and he made relationships, on and off the screen, by just being himself. Other show performers, like Francois Clemmons (the neighborhood's African-American officer), never really considered the impact that Fred had not on the show until years later. (Clemmons later considered Rogers a father figure.)

I also never knew about the formation of the Public Broadcasting Service, started by President Lyndon B. Johnson but disapproved by succeeding President Richard Nixon. The famous 1969 Congressional hearing featured Rogers' testifying before Senator John Pastore to keep public television on the air.

And I never really considered Rogers' use of silence, compared with rapid-fire TV shows at the time and over the years ("There's a lot of space, but there's no wasted space"). Did I mention he was also a swimmer, and that he dedicated his life to maintaining the same weight of 143. (This became his signature number over the years.) He even tried adult programming for a time with the same philosophies, but eventually came back to the show, with weekly theme cards (a daring move).

His warm and kindly persona also made him an easy target for parody (remember Eddie Murphy's "Mister Robinson's Neighborhood" sketch from SNL?) and ridicule. And let's not forget the urban myths people have made over the years, including the one that claims he was a sniper in Vietnam, and that he wore cardigan sweaters to hide tattoos on his arms. (That's been debunked, as he never served in the army.) There were also claims he was a closeted homosexual, which has also been debunked, agrees Clemmons (who came out as gay in later years).

Rogers was even criticized by news reporters who thought his message was brainwashing children into thinking they could be anything they wanted. Many people were even reportedly "intolerant" towards his notion of tolerance. Rogers reportedly had a difficult childhood, being bullied and pressured to "feel less than you are". This was something else he channeled on his program, regarding the theme of feeling like a "mistake."

His ultimate message (not just as an ordained minister in the Presbyterian Church) was "love thy neighbor". In other words, a message of inclusiveness and an example of empathy and understanding that said, "I like you just as you are." The show's signature song, "Won't You Be My Neighbor," was once describes by Rogers as an "invitation" to know you are loved, and that you are lovable. It also extends to the importance of remembering those who have helped us in our own lives, and ultimately asking us, "What are you going to do?"

With so many stories of famous celebrities who have fallen from grace in recent months, it's a breath of fresh air to know that Fred Rogers (according to just about everybody who knew him personally) was exactly as you assumed he would be, and then some. Boy, do we need that kind of character and example, more than ever.

REVIEW: "Isle of Dogs"--A Bold, Original, and Daring Adventure

The opening scene in Wes Anderson's Isle of Dogs (which explains a long history of war between felines and canines) sets the stage for some truly original, rare, and daring filmmaking. This stop-motion animated feature (Anderson's second, after 2009's terrific Fantastic Mr. Fox) is set in a future Japan, where an outbreak of snout fever (er, dog flu) enables government officials to quarantine all canines to a remote trash island. "Whatever happened to man's best friend?" some wonder.

The film's apparent four-part narrative centers on a pack of five alpha dogs, including a stray named Chief, as well as a boy pilot named Atari (nephew to the unsympathetic mayor, who first issued the quarantine) out to find his own dog, named Spots, who was banished on the same island.

The film's marvelous animation and impeccable all-star voice cast (especially the dog leads) are the easiest things to be struck by here. Koyu Rankin (as Atari), Bryan Cranston (Chief), Edward Norton (Rex), Jeff Goldblum (Duke), Bill Murray (Boss), Bob Balaban (King), and other supporting players Scarlet Johannson (Nutmeg), F. Murray Abraham (Jupiter), Frances McDormand (Interpreter Nelson), Greta Gerwig (exchange student Tracy Walker), Tilda Swinton (Oracle), Harvey Keitel (Gondo), and Liev Schreiber (Spots) play this world like they mean it, despite its absurd, highly-quirky and intellectual disposition. The glass bottle fort scene, for one, recalls the underground mineral deposit from Fantastic Mr. Fox. Cranston's Chief proves the most layered character, developing as one who never really had a master to somebody with emotional tendencies (his main character trait: "I bite") to somebody who does have a soft spot. And Alexandre Desplat's score strikes the right balance of Japanese influences and quirky and emotional humor, with percussion adding specific intensity. (Pay attention to the opening credits, for starters.)

Perhaps the biggest themes in this film are those of choice and identity. Besides the arc of the dogs themselves ("There's no future on trash island," argues Rex, "I want my master"), the "why" for Atari is in how dogs represent true "best friends" in a harsh world. (The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band track, "I Won't Hurt You," adds to and sums up the films emotional arc, specifically this relationship between dogs and people who love them.) There are some characters who state their fear of bringing children (er, puppies) into the world. On the other hand, there are those who believe in a need for improved life, culture, and livelihood.

The film has been accused of cultural appropriation, as well as a stereotypical "white savior" element in the character of white female exchange student, Tracy Walker. Minor subplots involving dog flu and research (treatable or not) and robotic canines may pale in comparison to the more political subplot involving student animal rights groups shouting propaganda against pet-haters, including the fact that Japanese citizens have been brainwashed/misguided into hating their pets. --Is it possible that the film is also discreetly prejudice against cats? I don't know.

As for cultural appropriation? Maybe, maybe not. To be fair, the human characters do speak in their native tongue--mostly without subtitles, sometimes with an English translator--while all the canines speak English. (The disclaimer in the opening sequence is a humorous Anderson touch.) The ear pieces worn between certain humans and dogs (e.g., Atari and Spots) bridge the language barrier, and even result in teary eyes effects for the animators. In that regard, the film is, perhaps, reverent to Japanese culture, which also gives it an authenticity and charm rarely seen in cinema. (For the record, Anderson was inspired by the films of Akira Kirosawa and the classic Sixties and Seventies stop-motion Christmas specials from Rankin-Bass animation.)

It should be noted that, like Fox before it and despite the aforementioned marvelous animation and storytelling, Isle of Dogs is not really a film for young children. It's mildly disturbing and even violent at times (hence, why the MPAA gave it a PG-13 rating, "for thematic elements and some violent images"). One scene, for instance, glimpses a dog chewing another dog's ear off, while another scene shows a kidney transplant, open chests and all. There are also a couple of references to suicide and implied cannibal dogs, as well as an incinerator. At least, for what it's worth, the material doesn't cross into territory that Anderson's other inventive-but-R-rated films (and even his PG-13-rated Moonrise Kingdom) went into. And it gives more mature viewers the option of seeing what the animation medium is still capable of, as well as what original and daring filmmaking and storytelling is.

$UCCESSFU! FILMS SERIES: The Revolution and Reality of Visual Effects

Movies have certainly come a long way, especially over the last quarter century, in terms of the way visual effects and technology have been used in telling feature-length stories and in bringing unreal characters and worlds to life. And there are many significant achievements to consider when looking back on cinema's history: X-Wing fighters and the Millennium Falcon blasting through space in Star Wars. Light cycles zooming and crashing in TRON. The liquid-metal T-1000 in Terminator 2: Judgment Day. Pixar's first computer-animated film, Toy Story. Slow-motion bullet-dodging in The Matrix. Armies of crowds and a motion-captured creature named Gollum in The Lord of the Rings. And, of course, blue-skinned aliens and a 3-D world called Pandora in Avatar.

But perhaps the most incredible (and ageless) examples of visual effects in movies are those that seem both visually and viscerally real, and without drawing attention to themselves.

One of the most important examples in this latter canon is the 1993 film, Jurassic Park, based on Michael Crichton's bestselling novel about a theme park that genetically recreates extinct dinosaurs, who eventually run amok. The combined talents of director Steven Spielberg, co-writer David Koepp (along with Crichton), the visual effects teams headed by veteran Dennis Muren and consulted by Phil Tippett, and the special animatronic effects teams by the late Stan Winston, created one of the most jaw-dropping, amazing, and terrifying experiences at the movies. While there were key computer-animated shots of dinosaurs in the film (including the T-Rex's first appearance at a rainy paddock, and the velociraptors in a scary kitchen scene), there was a brilliant balance of animatronic replicas (not to mention tons of paleontologic research that went into bringing these characters to life) that made audiences and critics believe they were brought back to a world that existed "65 million years" ago.

In fact, this is one of the reasons the film was as successful as it was, and as any such film (even those that recreate moments in history) will be with audiences in theaters, in turn giving said film(s) respect and meaning. Otherwise, you're just overwhelming audiences and critics. In other words, Jurassic Park wasn't just about showcasing fantastical elements, but about making them look and seem real. (Check out this video for more analysis on the film's VFX.)

So now, in honor of the film's 25th anniversary, and this weekend's release of the anticipated sequel, Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom, here are some other examples of believable and timeless visual effects in feature films from the last forty-plus years. And while I can't recommend some of these movies for certain content purposes, they are to be commended, nonetheless, for their technical and visual landmarks.

Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988)
The combination of animated characters in a live-action environment had been done many times before (look at Mary Poppins and Pete's Dragon), but nowhere near to the extent of this creative and bizarre detective thriller-comedy. The cartoon characters (including the titular rabbit and stars from the Disney and Warner Brothers studios) not only cast real shadows, but also seem to carry real-world objects, smash through windows, and even drive real cars. Kudos to the special effects department, and to director Robert Zemeckis and animation director Richard Williams, for pushing the boundaries of filmmaking, both live-action and hand-drawn. (Read my retrospective review here.)

Forrest Gump (1994)
Speaking of Zemeckis, he has managed to push various filmmaking boundaries since his 1985 screenplay for Back to the Future (co-written with Bob Gale). He hit a career turn with this inspiring story, based on the novel  of a mentally-challenged man who lives an extraordinary life, even encountering some famous figures along the way. Probably the most amazing feat (besides telling the irreplaceable-though-fictitious story of a man who goes from a leg-braced boy to a football star, a Vietnam war hero, a shrimp boat captain, and a nationally-renowned runner) is how the filmmakers inserted Tom Hanks into real archival footage of JFK, LBJ, Nixon, and John Lennon, with a few technical tweeks.

Titanic (1997)
Following the critical and commercial success of 1995's Apollo 13 (considering the unforgettable shot of the famous rocketship launching into space), James Cameron's big-screen adaptation of the "unsinkable" Titanic's maiden voyage and tragic sinking made even bigger waves (if you'll pardon the expression). Love the film or hate it, I think we can all agree that seeing visual images of the Titanic, before and after its collision with the iceberg (including actual underwater footage of the ship itself, shot and observed by Cameron) is absolutely breathtaking and captivating. (Watch this TEDTalk from visual effects supervisor Rob Legato if you don't believe me.)

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008)
This adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald's celebrated story from director David Fincher and Forrest Gump screenwriter Eric Roth is carried not only by Brad Pitt's incredible performance, but also by a team of effects artists who thoroughly make us believe that Pitt's character is seamlessly aging backwards. (Digital effects artist Ed Ulbrich explains the years-long process of this film in this intriguing TEDTalk.)

Iron Man (2008)
While it's easy to say that most of the animation and effects seen in Marvel movies (and superhero movies, in general) is easy to call fake, that wasn't so much the case with this game-changing action feature that kickstarted the Marvel Cinematic Universe as we know it today. Jon Favreau's direction and Robert Downey Jr.'s charisma carry the emotional and thematic journey of Tony Stark, but its the effects teams (including the last Stan Winston as a consultant) that blend real-life replicas of Stark's Iron Man armor seamlessly with digital counterparts. Here's a case where audiences and critics can't tell at times where one leaves off and the other picks up. Most of all, this is the Iron Man/Tony Stark we should know and love.

WALL*E (2008)
Just about everything that Pixar Animation Studios does is genuine and universal. But their work on the title character and feature-length original story of WALL*E (particularly the first 45 minutes) is some of the most photo-realistic computer animation ever created for film. The hazy sun rays. The dust. The whole wasteland environment of earth. Yes, it's a bleak setting. But it's the sole robot who dwells there (along with a cockroach friend) that gives the place another life. The endearing bot's cube-like complexion, his rolling wheels, and his expressive eyes carry a new meaning of being a "window to the soul".

Interstellar (2014)
While director Alfonso Cauron received deserved recognition and accolades for his landmark work on 2013's Gravity (a great example of why we go to the movies), I ultimately went with this more challenging and haunting space-travel adventure from director Christopher Nolan. While Cauron's film focused on Sandra Bullock attempting to return to earth, Nolan's film (based on the works of theoretical physicist Kip Thorne) used old-fashioned techniques a la 1970s science-fiction blockbusters (real sets, real locations) to tell the story of a dying earth, and a team of remaining NASA astronauts who journey through the galaxy (and a wormhole, brought to visual life from Thorne's writings) to find another world for the remaining citizens of earth.

Planet of the Apes (2011, 2014, 2017)
Two words: Andy Serkis. First known around the world as the voice and performance of Gollum in The Lord of the Rings trilogy (2001-2003), Serkis has become synonymous with the ever-growing technology known as motion-capture. (Basically, it's computer animation that captures a live-action performance in real-time and transfers it to a digital character, which I'll let Serkis himself tell you more about here.) Serkis did this again in Peter Jackson's 2005 remake of King Kong. Even filmmakers like Robert Zemeckis, Steven Spielberg, and Gore Verbinski got acquainted with the technology, before James Cameron ultimately took it on for his ambitious and record-breaking Avatar. But Serkis has my vote for continually moving audiences and critics with his feature-film performances, post-spandex-and-dots. His greatest achievement, by far, would have to be the rebooted Planet of the Apes films (2011's Rise, 2014's Dawn, 2017's War), as the titular ape Caesar, who goes from a caged zoo animal to the leader of a primate revolt against a virus-stricken humanity. To quote (with a bit of irony) DreamWorks co-founder Jeffrey Katzenberg, "It's not evolutionary, it's revolutionary."

$UCCESSFU! FILMS SERIES: The Marvel Cinematic Universe, To "Infinity" and Beyond . . .

You think you're the only superhero in the world? 

You've become part of a bigger universe. 

You just don't know it yet. 

~Nick Fury (Iron Man)

The first official trailer for Avengers: Infinity War was released last December, and it easily became one of the most mind-blowing and anticipated releases on the horizon (a la The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King). I mean, they've practically brought together just about every character they've been bringing to the screen for the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU)--even by crossing over different storylines--for the last ten years. Infinity War has been out for almost two months now, and it's already (not surprisingly) become one of the most popular films in history (despite the fact that it's only Part 1 of a two-film story).

At the time of its release, the first Avengers (being the 2012 feature helmed by Joss Whedon) culminated in characters and plot lines established and expanded in previously-released feature films from an ever-growing Marvel Studios, and all (to quote film critic Peter Travers) "for the price of one ticket." Beginning with the better-than-expected release of Iron Man (which also relaunched the career of Robert Downey, Jr.) and continuing with The Incredible Hulk (2008), Thor and Captain America (both 2011), the superhero genre has exponentially improved with quality and risk-taking in terms of storytelling, visual effects, and of course, certainly, casting. Other rising stars have included the Chris's Hemsworth (as Thor), Evans (as Cap) and Pratt (as Peter Quill/Star-Lord); Scarlet Johannson (as Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow), and Jeremy Renner (Clint Barton/Hawkeye).

While it could have been a mere mash-up with colorful costumes, explosions and fight scenes, The Avengers smartly took its time with each of its main characters and gave each of them their shining or key moments. Tony Stark (Iron Man) successfully started as a spoiled-playboy-turned-reformed-hero, but seems to have subsequently been taking a somewhat backwards route since his feature film debut, although his definition of "accountability" subsequently proves flawed, as it does for other characters. Bruce Banner (Hulk) represents a modern day Shakespearean tragic hero (Mark Ruffalo portrayed the best on-screen rendition of the character and stole the show). Thor (a.k.a. "the God of Thunder") represents another figure with Shakespearean undertones, but with redemptive qualities as Stark had. And Steve Rogers (Captain America) is a World War II hero who becomes culture shocked by the world's shift in ideals and issues of trust.

Did I mention these are characters we see without masks half the time, if not most of the time?

The Avengers really began turning on each other in Captain America: Civil War

Audiences and critics have since followed the continued adventures and conflicts of these characters, including some new ones introduced over time like Scarlet Witch, Vision, Falcon, Ant-Man, Black Panther, Spider-Man, and the Guardians of the Galaxy. As one character says, "Everyone's got a gimmick now!" From alien invasions and battles in New York, to government conspiracies and shocking cover-ups revealed in Washington, D.C., to artificial intelligence running amok, to divisions amongst characters and sides due to impending governmental supervision, these films arguably represent the Saturday matinee serials of the 21st Century. The latter theme (as seen in 2016's Captain America: Civil War) represents real social and ethical commentary never before achieved in this kind of a film (not to mention one of the most unforgettable battle sequences of any Marvel movie), building on an ever-growing, complex, and tense partnership-relationship between Stark and Rogers.

The question of what kind of role these "heroes" should play, even as they question each other, their definitions of what is "right," and their trust or lack of it, is another smart and thought-provoking element in this franchise, echoing what director Christopher Nolan successfully did with his Dark Knight trilogy. "We're not a team," argues a mild-mannered Bruce Banner, " We're a time bomb." After all, this current era is no longer a black and white one, but a very gray one, something that Steve Rogers (found frozen in an ice cap for seven decades since World War II), again, finds very hard. Cap's character arcs and standalone plotlines have arguably been the strongest and best part of the MCU (with 2014's The Winter Soldier being the pinnacle of them all).

In addition, there have been underlying references throughout this franchise, not only to other "worlds" in the universe (as Loki has seen before Avengers, Rogers has seen in the 1940s, Thor and Banner glimpse in space, and as Stark fearfully illudes in Age of Ultron), but also to six separate entities called Infinity Stones, each of which deal with space, mind, reality, power, time, and soul. And now, on the heels of adversaries who either want to destroy our colorful heroes (like the Nazi-inspired HYDRA, which was "founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom," the mischievous Loki, or the menacing robot Ultron) or want them to destroy each other (like the psychological Baron Zemo in Civil War) based on what they are respectfully misguided into believing is a "path to peace," we have the ultimate Marvel villain in Thanos (who first appeared briefly at the end of each Avengers film, and more specifically in Guardians of the Galaxy), who seeks to combine the Infinity Stones into his infamous gauntlet for ultimate power and destruction of half the universe.

Guide to the Infinity Stones

Josh Brolin as the menacing titan Thanos

Avengers: Infinity War becomes another unprecedented benchmark in cinema, as well as for comic-book/superhero films (a kudos to Marvel CEO and producer Kevin Feige, screenwriters Christopher Markus & Stephen McFeely, and directors Anthony & Joe Russo, for taking risks). IMDb states that the film includes about 60 main Marvel characters. At the same time, it would be impossible to really talk about this movie without spoiling it. That being said, while the film does have the typical bantering, mind-blowing character entrances, and visual phenomena and spectacle that have come to define the MCU, this will be a very hard (and even polarizing) experience for many viewers, especially young fans, considering the potential or possible fates of some of our central characters.

The good news, perhaps, is that there's still another half of this story to tell a year from now, after the anticipated releases of next month's Ant Man and the Wasp (which will reportedly explore the Quantum Realm that the first film briefly did) and next year's Captain Marvel (the first female-led MCU film, with Brie Larson in the title role, set in the 1990s with returning characters and connections to Guardians). Not to mention several other films on the studio's release schedule.

I recall S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Phil Coulson (a prominent character--and fan favorite--from Phase 1 of the MCU) and his faith in heroes from the first Avengers, including those who choose to fight and finish the job when no one else will, even/and in the face of impending conflict and destruction, as well as his belief that adversaries will lose simply because they "lack conviction."

REVIEW: "A Quiet Place" Makes More Than Sudden Noise

The high-concept of a horror thriller about a family of four in a post-apocalyptic world, who do all they can to remain silent to avoid a mysterious (and blind) monster, sounded incredibly thrilling (at least according to trailers and an impressive marketing campaign, with the tagline, "If they hear you, they hunt you"). Yet, I (like many) had every reason to be skeptical and wonder if that same effect would carry into and permeate a 90-minute feature film, or was just a pretentious and corny idea. Not to mention the fact that it was produced by Michael Bay's production company Platinum Dunes.

Surprisingly, A Quiet Place exceeds that skepticism and proves not only effective and really scary, but also on-the-edge-of-your-seat, extremely well-made, and quite emotional.

The terrific screenplay by Scott Beck and Bryan Woods (with help from director and co-star John Krasinski) includes minimal dialogue and lots of specificity in how to tell a story (in this case, a story about a family) with visuals and sound. Specificity in how the main characters (a family known as the Abbots) treat all their appliances and tools with careful ease and walk around barefoot. Specificity and details on rooms with newspaper clippings, implying events that have led to the current setting. And specificity of each of the family members, from father Lee (Krasinski) to mother Evelyn (Emily Blunt, Krasinski's real-life wife), son Marcus (Wonder's Noah Jupe), and deaf daughter Regan (Wonderstruck's Millicent Simmons, a real-life deaf actress). And each of the performances are terrific, especially Simmons and the always-incredible Blunt, who, as actresses, evoke fearlessness and vulnerability.

John Krasinski

Some may argue that certain elements in the film recall, say, Alien, the early works of M. Night Shyamalan (Signs, The Village), I Am Legend, Cloverfield, and even The Terminator (Sarah Connor!). But A Quiet Place stands as its own thing, and may, in fact, be the best thing that Bay and his company have ever produced. Now, there are maybe one or two elements of Bay's films that finds its way into the film (or maybe that's the typical Bay cynic talking, not me), but a lack of character investment and development over sound and spectacle isn't one of them. Sound still plays a key role viscerally, including Marco Beltrami's thumping and evocative score.

This is Krasinski's vision, first and foremost, and he pulls it off with sure substance and skill. He has directed two times before (for 2009's Brief Interviews With Hideous Men and 2016's The Hollars), but here, he truly breaks mainstream while maintaining creative freedom.

The image of Blunt sitting in a bathtub, pregnant and frightened, is already one of the year's most striking and unforgettable film images, encapsulating what the movie represents: parents fearing for the safety of their children, as well as raising them in (or bringing them into) a scary and dangerous world, or simply going out into it. The screenplay handles these themes, along with guilt and grief over the loss of loved ones, with understanding.

Emily Blunt

To avoid ending on a depressing note here, I should note (without spoiling) that the screenplay is wise to include choices to fight and move on, to stand up to and overcome fear for the sake of personal and familial survival. Now, how often do horror-thrillers go that deep?

REVIEW: "Black Panther"--The Revolution Will Not Be Televised!

Black Panther is not your typical Marvel movie, let alone your typical superhero movie. Some have already called it one of the studio's best films, and one of the best of its kind in general. In fact, it doesn't feel like a superhero movie, perhaps at all.

To get right to the point, Black Panther (based on the 1960s-based comic book series created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby) is arguably the first great movie of the year. It's a piece of popcorn entertainment that stands on its own apart from a recent run of cinematic universes some may call "Marvel-itis". (This is something that last year's Wonder Woman got right as well.)

It may be the first comic book-based film with a predominantly black cast (not to mention a talented director in Ryan Coogler, who also made Fruitvale Station and the Rocky spinoff Creed), but it also proves to be a very universal film that expertly balances themes of culture, leadership, geopolitics, and past mistakes coming back to haunt you, while delivering jaw-dropping cinematography (from Rachel Morrison), music (some courtesy Kendrick Lamar), production design (how about those waterfalls?) and visual effects, as well as first-rate action sequences. The South Korean club fight and proceeding car chase (complete with warrior chant music), for one, are a knockout!

"I accept your challenge."

The setting is a third-world African nation known as Wakanda, and the story centers on the prince-turned-king, T'Challa (Chadwick Boseman), who succeeds the throne following his father's death (as seen in 2016's Captain America: Civil War). Boseman (who has become synonymous with playing such real-life figures as Jackie Robinson, James Brown, and Thurgood Marshall for the last half-decade) superbly and believably plays T'Challa as a character who is fierce, determined and endearing, while also conflicted, vulnerable, and capable of mercy, compassion, and justice.

The film also includes the most three-dimensional and engrossing adversary in a long while, in Erik Killmonger (a riveting Michael B. Jordan), whose theme music combines hip-hop with orchestral. His misguided view of power, control, leading, and a sense of who and/or what is "lost," sets him on a path of destruction (though not the kind that involves skybeams and blowing up the world, thankfully). His character arc represents what one's mistakes can create, and contrarily the choice to not let those mistakes make us.

Without spoiling anything really, the theme of different actions, choices, and mistakes of two different fathers onto their children is powerfully expressed and and subtly debated. "No man is perfect," assures T'Challa's love interest, Nakia, "You cannot let your father's mistakes define who you are. You get to decide what kind of king you are." Various characters, in fact, question and challenge what should be done with their country's resources (e.g., vibranium): just keep it from the world or share it for sake of poor or struggling communities? The complexities of loyalty and responsibility ("serving" a country versus "saving" it) are equally well-played, as is the theme of turning tragedy into hope by using resources the right way. "In times of crisis," T'Challa tells us, "the wise build bridges, but the foolish build barriers."

Speaking of Wakanda, this is one of the most amazing cinematic places I've been to in a long while (right up there with Gotham City and Thymescira). To see such sequences on an IMAX screen are a rare spectacle. Its mythology and history is thoroughly engrossing, from its African roots to its five tribes and ancient gods to technology to what the "Black Panther" itself and the heart-shaped purple herb represent.

And I can't talk about this place without mentioning the impeccable and phenomenal cast that populates it. Just about every principal player showcases enough depth to get audiences invested. In other words, no characters here are ever dull (well, maybe one) nor are fleeting ingenues. Along with Bosman and Jordan, the incredible talents and contributions of Lupita N'Yongo (as spy Nakia), Angela Bassett (as Wakandan queen Ramonda), Forest Whitaker (as advisor Zuri), Leticia Wright (a breakout scene-stealer as T'Challa's sister, Shuri), Dania Gurira (as army general Okoye), Martin Freeman (as CIA agent Everett Ross, also seen in Civil War), Andy Serkis (as arms dealer Ulysses Klaue, last seen in Avengers: Age of Ultron), Daniel Kuluuya (as second-in-command W'Kabi), Winston Duke (as warrior M'Baku), and Sterling K. Brown (as T'Challa's uncle N'Jobu) couldn't be better.

The resulting film is not only a testament to Lee and Kirby for a revolutionary character to begin with, but also to producer (and Marvel Studios CEO) Kevin Feige for entrusting Coogler in making a different kind of movie, now officially a piece of cinema history. In a word, it's awesome!