REVIEW: “Inside Out 2” (2024)

I think it’s fair to say that Hollywood, in recent years, seems to have been more about pushing agendas than simply telling stories. That includes Disney and Pixar as well, to name a few. So when news and trailers for a sequel to one of the latter company’s most ambitious and creative films (about the emotions inside a young girl’s head) was announced, I was anxious that the CGI studio might present us with another “woke” narrative (Lightyear from 2022, anybody?). The good news is that Inside Out 2 doesn’t fall into that same category. Instead, it gets back to the basics of the storytelling, as well as genuine heartstrings and emotions, that Pixar has long been known for. 

Picking up two years after the 2015 original, the aforementioned Riley is now officially 13 years old and heading to a hockey camp for the summer. She hopes to make the team the following school year, with her main emotions still in tact—and providing amusing and relatable commentary. (Amy Poehler, Phyllis Smith, and Lewis Black reprise their roles as Joy, Sadness, and Anger, respectively. Tony Hale and Liza Lapira replace Bill Hader and Mindy Kaling as Fear and Disgust, respectively). And then new emotions unexpectedly join the team, not to mention conflicting motivations and objectives. These include the fast-going Anxiety (voiced by Maya Hawke), the wide-eyed Envy (Ayo Edebiri), the lazy Ennui (Adèle Exarchopoulos), and the shy Embarrassment (Paul Walter Hauser). 

The story takes viewers to new, interesting places in Riley’s mind, like the Sar-Chasm (get it?), bedrooms where all her emotions “sleep,” office cubicles that resemble animation desks, and unique interpretations of a “stream of consciousness” and a surreal “brain storm” that gives Mad Max: Fury Road and Twister a run for their money. There are even hilarious uses of different animation styles for some of Riley’s other interests (two of which cracked me up). 

At the heart is a story about growing up and dealing with sudden changes, what we can (and cannot) control, and letting go (a relatable theme for overprotective parents or adult figures as well). The same goes for the power of belief systems, particularly one’s sense of self (both the positive *and* the negative aspects), as well as a misguided sense of “happiness” and fitting in (which narratively don’t go where you might think they will). To their credit, the filmmakers consulted with teenagers from the Bay Area in California to make sure their portrayal of teenage adolescence was accurate and not “cringy”. And the film is all the better for it. 

But the ultimate theme of Inside Out 2 may be that emotions don’t get to choose who a person is. And they shouldn’t. And yet, it’s okay to not be okay. Andrea Datzman’s brilliant score pushes all the right buttons here. This is a follow up that is just as (if not more) daring, subversive, and tear-jerking as its predecessor. Inside Out 2 is easily one of Pixar’s best films in recent memory. It’s an emotional roller-coaster. 

REVIEW: “Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga” (2024)

During pre-production on Mad Max: Fury Road, director George Miller and co-writer Nico Lathouris wrote an entire backstory that chronicled Charlize Theron’s tough-as-nails Imperator Furiosa, from her lost childhood to the warrior we came to know her as in that now-unforgettable 2015 chapter. Reportedly, the actress wondered why they weren’t making her character’s origin story instead of Fury Road, as she found the former more interesting. Well, that backstory stayed with Miller and many of the same crew. And with Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, it comes to fruition as both an exhilarating and immersive odyssey, and as a different kind of Mad Max story. 

For one thing, we get to see locations and set pieces only spoken about in Fury Road, such as the Green Place of Many Mothers (this narrative’s Garden of Eden, with “healthy, nourished full lives”), Gastown, and the Bullet Farm. We also get to see more of the Citadel, a younger--and a bit more sympathetic?--Immortan Joe (Lachy Hulme replaces the late Hugh Keyes-Burne), and earlier versions of his massive War Rig. We also get a genuine sense of how strong Furiosa is--like mother, like daughter. The Wasteland, meanwhile, is as savage, brutal, and dangerous of an environment as we’ve seen by far in this franchise. (Plus, you would not want to be a War Boy. Just saying.) 

Anya Taylor-Joy steps into the titular role like her signature mechanical arm and makes it all her own; her eyes, stares, and quiet rage saying everything. Although the actress doesn't technically show up until halfway through the movie (Alyla Browne plays Furiosa as a child), what an entrance it is! And what a risk on the filmmakers' parts. Tom Burke is equally terrific as her partner Praetorian Jack. But Furiosa is also a rare case where the main villain steals the show. And with the big-nosed, sadistic warlord Dementus, Marvel veteran Chris Hemsworth (almost unrecognizable) has never been more against-type, nor so broad, colorful, or sick. The dynamic between Hemsworth and Taylor-Joy leads to several moments that’ll leave you breathless. 

One of Miller's specialties is the power of stories, of history, and of mythology. With this film, there is not only a battle for power and control (cue Dementus against Immortan Joe), but also a fight for Furiosa to get back home and to preserve what little she has left of where she came from. (She carries a tree seed throughout.) In fact, there are very few characters in this story who believe there is something better out there than all the madness around them, while everyone else argues that such places no longer exist--or at least want to pilfer and overtake whatever abundance they can get for their own personal gain. Praetorian Jack is one of the few characters to exemplify somebody fighting for something greater. (“Even as the world fell, my parents fought to be warriors for a virtuous cause.”) 

But while Fury Road had a redemptive arc or two, Furiosa is essentially a slow-burn revenge thriller. (Furiosa was forced to watch her mother murdered right in front of her.) Sure, it literally rides off into the sunset. But it heads toward the sun while it’s still hot, and slowly, quietly comes to a boiling point. The result, like Tom Holkenborg's subtle and intense score and the film's thunderous sound design, is heart-pounding and jaw-dropping. And graphic, nnot just because of Furiosa’s severed arm. One truly gross scene involves maggots and decomposing limbs in creepy underground tunnels. There are also grim scenes of torture and psychological tension, leaving a lot to the imagination. 

Furiosa also seems a bit more dialogue-heavy (then again, so were the 1979 original and 1985’s Beyond Thunderdome). Its two-and-a-half-hour runtime may try the patience of viewers used to fast action and crazy stunts (which this movie has plenty of), but I give Miller and company credit for presenting a different, more layered, and subversive kind of Mad Max. The chapter titles help make it feel like a piece of classic literature or ancient mythology. Its narrative structure, amazingly, comes full circle, from white to black, from innocence to antiheroism, if you will. The film does fall short in some of its visuals, half of which are clearly CGI panoramas; ditto massive crowd shots and insane car crashes (perhaps due to safety concerns from the last movie). 

Still, the effect is nothing short of gripping and exhilarating. For someone in his 80s (so are Martin Scorsese and Francis Ford Coppola), George Miller remains as skilled and crafty a filmmaker as he’s ever been. He really understands, and knows how to create, cinema. I guess all that's left is that pre-Fury Road backstory he and Lathouris wrote for Max Rockatansky, titled Mad Max: The Wasteland. We'll see. Remember that. 

REVIEW: “Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes” (2024)

[WRITER’S NOTE: The following review was originally posted on May 13, 2024.] 

Passing the torch of a film franchise from one director to the next is always a daunting task, especially if there’s a generational gap. What’s interesting about the original Planet of the Apes movies is they were products of their time (the late-1960s and early-1970s were a period of Vietnam, Watergate, and civil rights marches). 

The rebooted trilogy from the past decade has allowed filmmakers and artists to successfully update author Pierre Boulle’s original concept, by transitioning from practical effects to digital performances, all while keeping the storylines engrossing and thoughtful. In retrospect, 2011’s Rise, 2014’s Dawn, and 2017’s War, strangely foreshadowed where the world would be in the not-too-distant future. (Since 2020, we’ve had to deal with a global pandemic for real.) So the themes in this larger narrative remain as (if not more) relevant than ever.

With Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, director Wes Ball (The Maze Runner) picks up where Rupert Wyatt and Matt Reeves left off. Set 300 years after the events of War, a young chimpanzee named Noa (an engrossing Owen Teague) has much growth and knowledge to gain in his community. But when his village is attacked and taken captive by a power-hungry simian army, he goes on a quest to find his tribe and bring them back from a sadistic bonobo leader named Proximus (a commanding and chilling Kevin Durand). Along the way, he meets a wise orangutan named Raka (a wonderful Peter Macon) and a mysterious human girl named Mae (an incredible Freya Allan) with more to her than meets the eye. 

The world-building of this new iteration is captivating and awe-inspiring, from the sights of algae-covered skyscrapers in ruins, to motifs of waterfalls, eagles, and telescopes and satellites (symbols of hope and communication) looking to the sky. It’s a seamless balance of visual effects (courtesy Weta) and real locations. Proximus’s “wonderful day” catchphrase even gives this series another thing in common with Mad Max. 

The story of Kingdom takes on mythological and even Biblical proportions. Specifically, the idea of stories and legends from one generation that have either been forgotten or not passed on to the next. This is exemplified in two different clans of apes going toe-to-toe, physically and with conflicting worldviews and ideologies about community, laws, and how they treat or view human beings. Ditto themes of meaning, understanding, truth, trust, and honoring or dishonoring who we are and where we came from. It also begs the question (as cliché as it is): is it possible for two different species to co-exist and rebuild in a broken world? 

While Kingdom doesn’t quite reach the rock-climbing heights of Reeves’ previous installments, Ball’s take manages to be both a clever homage and a jaw-dropping, subversive narrative. Some throwbacks to the 1968 original are a bit much, but Kingdom represents a full-circle event that carries on the series in some unexpected and challenging directions, regarding the roles of humanity and stewardship (or the lack of both), as well as issues of submission, conformity, and ownership. It’ll be something to see where this franchise heads next. 

REVIEW COLLECTION: Legacy of the “Planet of the Apes” Part 2

WRITER’S NOTE: The following reviews were originally posted on my Instagram page @be.kerian in March and April of 2024. (For this post, the reviews for Dawn and War have been extended.) 

[POSTSCRIPT: My review for Kingdom was added on May 13, 2024.] 

Planet of the Apes (2001) 

At the turn of the century, Hollywood attempted to remake several classic films for a new generation. This 2001 revamp from director Tim Burton (based off the 1968 sci-fi saga starring Charlton Heston) was one of them. In this version, Mark Wahlberg plays an Air Force pilot on a space station that uses chimpanzees as test subjects for interstellar travel. When one of them gets lost, Wahlberg’s Leo Davidson goes on a mission to bring him back but gets caught in a wormhole that sends him to a strange planet where talking apes rule and humans are enslaved. 

Honestly, the one great thing this Planet of the Apes had going for it was Rick Baker’s incredible makeup effects. As it turns out, this would be the last time that makeup artists would work on an Apes feature. For Baker, it was a dream come true. And it shows, especially with such committed actors as Michael Clarke Duncan (as a brute soldier) and Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa (as a doubtful gorilla). Tim Roth (as a snarling general) and Paul Giamati (as a wacky orangutan), on the other hand, ham it up too much. 

While this flick has spectacle and action to spare (and a few homages to the original), it lacks the intellect that made that flick such a thrilling adventure. The visual effects, technology, and millennial vibes in this reimagining haven’t aged well, while other elements are just weird and suggestive. More importantly, the story is convoluted, forgettable, and lacks a genuine sense of mystery, including the origins of the titular planet. Even its own twist ending is confusing rather than shocking—an element that ruins the rest of the movie, and is likely one reason it performed below expectations and killed a potential new franchise. 

Filmmaker James Cameron once claimed that this remake didn’t work because the studio hired the wrong director. Agreeably, Apes isn’t really Burton’s kind of movie. (Even he admitted it wasn’t a great experience, as the studio reportedly set a release date before a script was even finished.) At least his next film (Big Fish) was more up his alley, while it would be another ten years before Planet of the Apes found a better one.

Rise of the Planet of the Apes (2011) 

Ten years after an unsuccessful reboot, Fox decided to give the Planet of the Apes series another try. Only this time, instead of using practical makeup effects, the filmmakers of Rise of the Planet of the Apes turned to the same motion-capture technology and visual effects company (Weta Digital) that brought the Na’vi of James Cameron’s Avatar to life. And for the Apes lead character, Caesar, they turned to actor Andy Serkis (the same man who breathed life into Gollum and King Kong). The result is a thoroughly convincing and evocative performance. 

Like the 1968 original, Rise doesn’t just rely on its technical achievements. (This was also the first movie to shoot mo-cap in outdoor environments.) It succeeds as a smart and thrilling present day sci-fi drama—in which a group of scientists (headed by James Franco’s sympathetic-if-misguided Will Rodman) create an experimental drug as a potential cure for Alzheimer’s disease. When a chimpanzee test subject tragically dies, the serum transfers to her offspring (Caesar), whom Will decides to raise. Caesar’s intellectual growth eventually persuades Will to try the drug on his ailing father (a compelling John Lithgow), a further key example of the story’s central-if-cliched notion of “playing God,” especially when the consequences eventually rear their ugly head. 

But when Caesar is discovered and feared in public, he is forced into an animal shelter. Considered by many as a loose remake of 1972’s Conquest sequel, Caesar plans an escape and revolution for him and the other captive simians. (Audiences should know that this gripping and jaw-dropping film is also, according to the MPAA, “intense and frightening.”) 

As for the film’s human cast (including David Oyelowo’s business CEO and Tom Felton’s animal control employee), some of them come across as one-dimensional. The story also rushes a bit, but really works when it’s just apes communicating through body or sign language, or when they’re in nature. It’s really something to see and hear. A film that apparently nobody asked for but far exceeded expectations, Rise is the best reboot since Batman Begins.

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (2014) 

The second installment in the rebooted Planet of the Apes series has something in common with Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior: both predecessors took place in the present-day, while the sequels represented more of the post-apocalyptic worlds they’re generally known for. In Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, a virus that resulted from an experimental drug gone wrong has wiped out much of the human population around the globe. The few “genetically-immune” survivors try to make do with the resources they have, and to make contact with the outside world. Meanwhile, a colony of intelligent apes (led by Caesar) roams the forests on the outskirts of what remains of San Francisco—and Western civilization. 

The latter group is what makes the more elemental and universal Dawn feel like a silent picture half the time, as these simians communicate through sign and body language, and a limited vocabulary. Caesar is much more reserved and snarling this time around, wanting to protect his family and community. In fact, several other characters (like Jason Clarke’s Malcolm and Gary Oldman’s Dreyfus), who illustrate strong parent-child relationships, want a better life, and hope to reconnect, rebuild, and share resources with others. And while Caesar wants nothing to do with humanity at first, he comes to see the morally gray areas of both man and beast. It’s a testament to the dedication of actor Andy Serkis, as we really feel what Caesar is thinking, even if we don’t know what it is exactly. 

This is a rare sequel that really improves on its predecessor in every way, thanks, in part, to phenomenal direction by Matt Reeves, incredible production design by James Chinlund, and brilliant writing by Rick Jaffa, Amanda Silver, and Mark Bomback. It ranks as another milestone in motion capture performance (courtesy Weta Digital), this time shot in raining environments and in a taller aspect ratio. 

That being said, Dawn is also a much more violent entry (competing with 1972’s Conquest), with scenes of gunplay, language issues, and a few startling moments. Part of that has to do with characters’ conflicting motivations and agendas. Characters who are unwilling to let go of deep-seated anger and hatred, resulting in betrayal and broken trust. 

The chief example is the bonobo ape Koba (Toby Kebbell), an abused test subject (from Rise) who serves as this film’s main antagonist. Like Aldo in 1973’s Battle, he’s a character who is willing to kill even his own kind to get what he wants, adding to this narrative’s themes of fear and destruction against peace and understanding. And although Michael Giacchino’s score does have some clever homages to Jerry Goldsmith’s music from the original movies (scenes in underground tunnels recall 1970’s Beneath), Dawn is a more gripping and exhilarating slow-burn of a drama. 

War for the Planet of the Apes (2017) 

As its title suggests, this third installment in the Planet of the Apes reboot series is a war picture. But it’s so much more than that. Set two years after the events of Dawn, military soldiers answer a distress call to search for and eradicate the ape colony led by the now-legendary Caesar. While the rest of his community relocates in search of a safer haven (an Exodus, if you will), Caesar goes on a personal mission to find the merciless Colonel (played by a chilling Woody Harrelson, channeling Kurtz from Apocalypse Now) who murdered Caesar’s family sans his youngest child. 

Accompanied by three companions, including fellow chimp Rocket (series regular Terry Notary) and the wise orangutan Maurice (Karin Konoval, who’s been a standout since Rise), the journey is both epic and intimate. It’s Sergio Leone-meets-David Lean, from the shores of a beach to the frozen hideout of a former zoo animal named “Bad Ape” (played with comic relief by the naturally-funny Steve Zahn), and the central “Alpha Omega” military base that cages and enslaves other apes. Meanwhile, the virus that wiped out half of humanity (between Rise and Dawn) has apparently mutated, leaving its victims literally speechless, including a little girl that Maurice eventually names “Nova” (played wonderfully by newcomer Amiah Miller). 

But War is not just a physical conflict between men and simians. It’s also a soulful and moral struggle for Caesar, as he is haunted by memories of his deceased friend-turned-enemy Koba (the antagonist of Dawn) and risks losing his own humanity and compassion. This easily tops its predecessor as the most violent Apes chapter, with numerous battle sequences and brutal winter conditions that test our characters physically and psychologically. It’s also the most melancholy, emotional, and spiritual entry, with deeply biblical and mythological parallels (some profound; others, quietly empowering), thanks, in part, to Michael Giacchino’s moving score (especially Nova’s theme) and a thoroughly gripping, subversive, and literally explosive tone. 

The motion capture technology has become so seamless by this point—as great as it’s ever been, actually—that it blurs the line between science-fiction and reality at times, even in groundbreaking snow conditions. Director/writer Matt Reeves and co-writer Mark Bomback have done an equally great job of interweaving themes and definitions of “mercy,” “nature,” “sacrifice,” and “salvation,” as well as themes of identity and character.

On the other hand, it is ironic that the narrative has us rooting for the apes more than the human characters, most of which are unsympathetic here, or die from bloody illnesses. (Nova may be the lone exception.) As Bad Ape describes, “Human get sick while ape get smart”—a potential prelude, as well as thematic full-circle connection, to the 1968 original. What a way to cap a trilogy for the time being. 

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes (2024) 

Passing the torch of a film franchise from one director to the next is always a daunting task, especially if there’s a generational gap. What’s interesting about the original Planet of the Apes movies is they were products of their time (the late-1960s and early-1970s were a period of Vietnam, Watergate, and civil rights marches). 

The rebooted trilogy from the past decade has allowed filmmakers and artists to successfully update author Pierre Boulle’s original concept, by transitioning from practical effects to digital performances, all while keeping the storylines engrossing and thoughtful. In retrospect, 2011’s Rise, 2014’s Dawn, and 2017’s War, strangely foreshadowed where the world would be in the not-too-distant future. (Since 2020, we’ve had to deal with a global pandemic for real.) So the themes in this larger narrative remain as (if not more) relevant than ever.

With Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, director Wes Ball (The Maze Runner) picks up where Rupert Wyatt and Matt Reeves left off. Set 300 years after the events of War, a young chimpanzee named Noa (an engrossing Owen Teague) has much growth and knowledge to gain in his community. But when his village is attacked and taken captive by a power-hungry simian army, he goes on a quest to find his tribe and bring them back from a sadistic bonobo leader named Proximus (a commanding and chilling Kevin Durand). Along the way, he meets a wise orangutan named Raka (a wonderful Peter Macon) and a mysterious human girl named Mae (an incredible Freya Allan) with more to her than meets the eye. 

The world-building of this new iteration is captivating and awe-inspiring, from the sights of algae-covered skyscrapers in ruins, to motifs of waterfalls, eagles, and telescopes and satellites (symbols of hope and communication) looking to the sky. It’s a seamless balance of visual effects (courtesy Weta) and real locations. Proximus’s “wonderful day” catchphrase even gives this series another thing in common with Mad Max. 

The story of Kingdom takes on mythological and even Biblical proportions. Specifically, the idea of stories and legends from one generation that have either been forgotten or not passed on to the next. This is exemplified in two different clans of apes going toe-to-toe, physically and with conflicting worldviews and ideologies about community, laws, and how they treat or view human beings. Ditto themes of meaning, understanding, truth, trust, and honoring or dishonoring who we are and where we came from. It also begs the question (as cliché as it is): is it possible for two different species to co-exist and rebuild in a broken world? 

While Kingdom doesn’t quite reach the rock-climbing heights of Reeves’ previous installments, Ball’s take manages to be both a clever homage and a jaw-dropping, subversive narrative. Some throwbacks to the 1968 original are a bit much, but Kingdom represents a full-circle event that carries on the series in some unexpected and challenging directions, regarding the roles of humanity and stewardship (or the lack of both), as well as issues of submission, conformity, and ownership. It’ll be something to see where this franchise heads next. 

REVIEW COLLECTION: “Ghostbusters” Series

(Courtesy Logo Design Love) 

WRITER’S NOTE: Except for the first and last ones, the following reviews were originally posted on my Instagram page @be.kerian. 

Ghostbusters (1984) 

Ghostbusters is a classic movie, there’s no denying it. It wasn’t the first time that different genres have been seamlessly combined. But Ghostbusters took that blend of supernatural horror, science-fiction, special effects, and improvisational dialogue, and elevated it to a whole new level. After all, director Ivan Reitman, writers Dan Aykroyd and Harold Ramis, and co-stars Bill Murray and Rick Moranis, had been involved with some of the most popular comedy films and T.V. shows of the era. This marked the first time they’ve all worked together on the same project.

The quirky characters remain iconic, from the carefree Peter Venkman (Murray) to fascination-fanatic Ray Stantz (Aykroyd), Twinkie-loving straight man Egon Spengler (Ramis), new-recruit Winston (Ernie Hudson), motormouth tenant Lewis Tully (Moranis), the beautiful Dana Berrett (Sigourney Weaver), and deadpan receptionist Janine (Annie Potts). And who could forget those brown jumpsuits, complete with the ghost logo and proton packs? And there’s the Ectomobile and catchy theme song. 

Except for Winston (who would join later), these characters start out as university parapsychologists who are fired, and decide to set up their own business: catching and entrapping the paranormal and all things that go bump-in-the-night. And their timing couldn’t be more impeccable, as their business oddly begins to boom, EPA reps get angrily concerned, and residents begin to get possessed by dark forces, including evil minions who are awaiting the coming of a destructive force, which eventually takes the Godzilla-like form of a corporate mascot. 

Yes, Ghostbusters is a comedy. And it’s as scary as it is funny. But when we really consider this film’s handling of spirituality (including the fact that many of these characters are occasionally clueless when it comes to supernatural), not to mention outdated sexual innuendos and scenes of smoking, it’s a reminder that there’s no such thing as, “It’s just a movie.” 

Ghostbusters 2 (1989) 

When it was first released, the makers and stars of Ghostbusters were surprised that their movie was not only popular with their target adult audience (hence that film’s adult humor), but also with kids. This reported demographic shift led to a Saturday morning cartoon (The Real Ghostbusters), as well as a more family-friendly sequel in 1989. 

Set five years later, the ever-popular paranormal exterminators have moved on to other lines of work (and non-smoking habits), from psychic talk shows to occult book stores. But when gallons of pink slime start to surface in the Big Apple around New Year’s Eve, Peter Venkman (Billy Murray), Ray Stantz (Dan Aykroyd), Egon Spengler (Harold Ramis), and Winston Zeddemore (Ernie Hudson) get back in business and eventually face off against an evil ancient Viking. 

Murray has expressed disappointment over this installment, claiming it was more special-effects driven—a fair statement, considering the gallons of pink slime, kooky specters, and ridiculous or loud humor that populate the screen. The story isn’t as strong or memorable either. And then there are scary scenes of child endangerment, which is another story. But Ghostbusters 2 has its moments (“Come on, there’s always room for jello”), including a clever, updated animated logo. And it still knows how to balance laughs and scares effectively. 

Most of all, it’s fun to watch Murray, Aykroyd, Ramis, and Hudson (along with Sigourney Weaver, Annie Potts, and Rick Moranis) once again. Talks of a third movie have circulated over the years since, with most of the main cast—and director Ivan Reitman—expressing interest, but reportedly only moving forward if Murray agreed as well. With Moranis’s retirement ten years later and Ramis’s passing in 2014, Ghostbusters 2 would be the last time they all worked together on the same movie.

Ghostbusters a.k.a. Ghostbusters: Answer the Call (2016) 

After years of being in, quote-on-quote, development limbo—and despite an ingenious homage in the 2009 horror-comedy Zombieland—a new Ghostbusters was finally greenlit, and even endorsed by Ivan Reitman and the original cast (including Bill Murray). The 2016 gender-swap reboot attempt (from Bridesmaids director Paul Feig), however, isn’t what people were expecting. As with most franchises, it’s true that nothing will ever top the original. But this version of Ghostbusters got a lot of heat on social media as soon as the first trailer was released. (At the time, it was the most disliked movie preview on YouTube.) 

The movie itself, admittedly, is not perfect. It has too many special effects, and its improvised banter doesn’t always land. Plus, its trademark secular and scientific views of spirituality and the afterlife (even as a fantasy) make it out of bounds for more discerning viewers. Ditto some crass dialogue, a few questionable song lyrics, and a scene involving the suicide of a disturbed adversary. (For those reasons, I myself can’t endorse this.) It’s sort of ironic that critics seemed to favor this movie more than audiences—the opposite reaction towards Zack Snyder’s Batman v Superman (which is a different story). 

I will say that this Ghostbusters otherwise stands on its own, largely thanks to the camaraderie among its four leading ladies: Kristen Wiig’s physicist Erin Gilbert and Melissa McCarthy’s paranormal researcher Abby Yates have funny bits, but it’s Leslie Jones’ MTA officer Patty Tolan and Kate McKinnon’s quirky engineer Jillian Holtzmann who get the biggest laughs. It was also this movie that arguably certified Chris Hemsworth (as clueless receptionist Kevin)’s comedy chops—and that the MCU vet wasn’t afraid to laugh at himself. Original cast members make clever cameo appearances as well (although Murray’s feels like a missed opportunity). 

In 2021, director Jason Reitman (son of Ivan) commended Feig for “expanding" the franchise, even if it was divisive. But sometimes, those are the best lessons in moviegoing, especially with tentpoles like this.

Ghostbusters: Afterlife (2021) 

Originally scheduled for a 2020 theatrical release (and with help from a clever teaser trailer in 2019), this continuation of the genre-bending supernatural comedies from the 1980s was pushed back by over a year due to the COVID-19 pandemic. But as people were slowly heading back to the theaters, this new take from indie director Jason Reitman was a surprising pass of the baton to a new generation since Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, Harold Ramis, and Ernie Hudson first sported jumpsuits and proton packs, and caught various specters around New York City over 35 years before. 

In Ghostbusters: Afterlife, a struggling family (single mom Carrie Coon, teenage son Finn Wolfhard, and brainy daughter McKenna Grace) inherits an old farmhouse with a mysterious connection to one of the original members. Excitement and thrills abound within this nostalgic roller-coaster of a movie. It also works as an engrossing coming-of-age story about family dynamics, not to mention a moving dedication to the late Ramis. 

Paul Rudd is also terrific as a science teacher, while a new ghost named Muncher (who feeds on metal, and is voiced by Josh Gad) steals the show. The surround sound is booming, while the filmmakers strike a great balance of practical and digital effects (the Ectomobile has a gunner’s seat?!). Ghostbusters: Afterlife only falls short in its last act, where it plays more like fan service than an original concept. And it goes with saying the film has dark spiritual elements (more than the original film did, honestly) and some genuine jump scares. 

The more dramatic tone and small town vibe also has as much in common with Stranger Things and Poltergeist as it does with the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man (who appears in miniature, macabre form here). Overall, this was one of the best times I had at the movies (exclusively) in recent years. Am I ready to believe the next theatrical installment will have more originality? We’ll see. 

REVIEW: “Mad Max: Fury Road” (2015)

WRITER'S NOTE: A shorter version of this review was posted on my Instagram page @be.kerian on March 18, 2024. 

It had been thirty years since we last saw a Mad Max movie on the big screen, and seventeen since franchise co-creator George Miller directed a live-action feature. The question was, would audiences today be interested in seeing a new installment/iteration of this post-apocalyptic series that launched the career of original star Mel Gibson? 

Mad Max: Fury Road was said to have been one of the most difficult shoots in Hollywood history. Production was delayed several times due to budget concerns, location scouting, logistics, and safety. Filming lasted for over six months in the country of Namibia, with grueling weather conditions that ranged from scorching hot (during the day) to freezing cold (at night). And lead actors Tom Hardy (taking up the mantle this time as the wandering Max Rockatansky) and Charlize Theron (as the fearless and determined Imperator Furiosa) didn’t get along. To make matters worse, executives at Warner Bros. were skeptical—and dismayed—by early test footage. 

With that in mind, a better question was if this new Mad Max would actually be any good. As recounted in author Kyle Buchanan’s 2022 book, “Blood, Sweat & Chrome” (an in-depth and eye-opening oral history of the making of the film), Miller described the genesis of his years-in-the-making project this way: 

I was in Los Angeles, crossing the street, and this very simple idea popped in my head. What if there was a Mad Max movie that was one long chase, and the MacGuffin was human? Can you tell an entire story on the run, and how much of the backstory can you pick up on the way? The essential task was to see how rich the story could be while it’s on the road.

Miller added, 

In one way, it was surprisingly restricted: When you think about it, most of the key characters are sitting in the same spot all the time, and those vehicles are hurtling through the wasteland in some form of chase or race. Those sorts of restrictions are stylistically interesting as a filmmaker but also, it’s a very seductive world to work in because of the allegories. It’s all there for you.

So, is Fury Road any good? The answer: a phenomenal yes. Essentially a two-hour car chase (as Miller described), Fury Road pulls off the challenging feat of sustaining a narrative that’s in constant movement. (That's why they're called "moving pictures," right?) To describe the experience of watching it is like getting a (pardon the expression) humongous shot of adrenaline in your chest and going full-throttle. 

Originally written on storyboards (the filmmakers also seriously considered shooting in native 3-D), every character, vehicle design, and prop has a specific and unique function and history, not to mention real substance. As they did with The Road Warrior, the crew creatively took scraps and pieces of junk, and made them into works of art. Reportedly, 90 percent of the action and stunts (meticulously and expertly planned out) on screen were done practically, with post-production visual effects that removed safety wires, and added massive sandstorms and other compositing. (The same went for nighttime scenes, shot during the day but changed to a blue haze for the final movie.) And wait until you see the flame-throwing guitar and polecats! (I don’t think we’ve ever seen anything like that in movies before.) 

Yet, for all of its heart-pounding spectacle, the story (written by Miller, Brendan McCarthy, and dramaturgist Nico Lathouris) is rather simple and linear. Hardy's Max (haunted by memories and visions) may be the title character, but he really plays passenger while Theron's Furiosa is in the driver's seat, as she leads a dangerous trek to free a group of women from a violent warlord (the infamous and intimidating Immortan Joe, played by Hugh Keays-Burne) and to a Garden of Eden of sorts.

The film is so exhilarating and jaw-dropping that we’re more invested in the story, characters, and genuine stakes, rather than the behind-the-scenes drama. (Hardy and Theron reportedly resolved their differences near the end of production and have since apologized, especially after seeing the finished product.) Still, I don't know what's more amazing: the amount of effort and layers put into the making of this film, or that every single person who worked on it survived. It's a unique and incredible story of tenacity, persistence, integrity, and survival against overwhelming odds. Buchanan, perhaps, summed it up best, 

We go to the movies to be transported, and Fury Road takes us to the outer reaches of our imaginations . . . But the epic journey of [getting the film made] proved even more meaningful for the people who made it. What they had all accomplished by the skin of their teeth was a very rare thing indeed. (pp. 324) 

I would argue that Fury Road has more craft and substance than most action movies put together. Many contemporary filmmakers, like Guillermo del Toro and Bong Joon-Ho have declared it as one of the greatest films they’ve ever seen. Executive producer Iain Smith called it “a victory of filmmaking over studio expediency” (read Buchanan's book, pp. 290). Unlike, say, Apocalypse Now (which also had a tremendously difficult production, and a very depressing narrative), Fury Road is a film I could watch again and again, because it’s greater than the sum of its parts. (Which is not to take the otherwise complicated behind-the-scenes stories, nor the film’s violent nature, lightly or passively.) It's also a rare movie of its kind to get the recognition it did at the Academy Awards, maybe the first since The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King the previous decade. (Fury Road won six of its ten nominations, the most awarded to an Australian film to date.) Both were game-changing juggernauts on so many levels. Plus, a black-and-white "chrome" edition of Fury Road (which Miller himself favored more) was released in 2016, with its own unique and dynamic results. 

But it’s not a film for everybody, especially the squeamish. Because it's a two-hour chase, the action sequences are relentless, wild, and gonzo. They're the primary reason for the film's R-rating, with a high body count, a few sad deaths, and one particularly graphic moment. The subject matter is heavy, with references to sex slavery (the Five Wives wear revealing garbs for most of the story), human sacrifice (blood is a visual metaphor for life-stealing--hence, the "blood bags"--but also for life-giving), and suicidal fanatics (although, the pale-bodied Nux, played by Nicholas Hoult, does have a redemptive arc). 

For everyone else, they may find a lot of mythological and theological elements under the hood. There are themes of environmentalism and some biblical parallels (the aforementioned "Green Place" a.k.a. this story's Garden of Eden). Other themes include feminism, standing against those who abuse power (i.e., political, sexual, physical, spiritual), taking back what was stolen, facing the harsh realities of the world (“Out here, everything hurts”), and looking/fighting for hope and redemption—not just for the central characters, but also for a community or more. Just be sure to strap in. 

Oscars 2024: To the Unsung Heroes That Make the Movies

The cast and crew of Oppenheimer accept the award for Best Picture 
(Courtesy NPR) 

The 96th Academy Awards were another year of celebration and dedication. For starters, five previous award-winners each presented and commended each of the twenty acting nominees for the first time since 2010. Starting with Da'Vine Joy Randolph's Supporting Actress win for The Holdovers (a very inspiring way to begin the ceremony), several of this year's nominated films managed to take home at least one Oscar statue. 

Some of these films included Hayao Miyazaki's seven-years-in-the-making anime masterpiece The Boy and the Heron (a surprise victory against the more ambitious Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse), Justine Triet & Arthur Harari's original screenplay for their morally-ambiguous courtroom drama Anatomy of a Fall (that film's dog, Messi, was in the audience!), Jonathan Glazer's haunting Holocaust drama-thriller The Zone of Interest (which won Best International Feature, and for its chilling sound), Cord Jefferson's adapted screenplay for the sharp satire American Fiction, and Wes Anderson's short film adaptation of Roald Dahl's witty and entertaining The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar. Jefferson even made an eye-opening (and worthwhile) call for other types of stories to be told, particularly low-budget independent features, and not just big-budget spectacles. (No offense, Christopher Nolan.) 

I was disappointed that Lily Gladstone didn't win Best Actress for her captivating, empathetic, and layered performance in Martin Scorsese's historical western-drama Killers of the Flower Moon. That honor went to Emma Stone, for her leading performance in Yorgos Lanthimos's dark fantasy Poor Things (which picked up additional trophies for its makeup, production design, and costumes). In fact, had Gladstone won, Scorcese's three-and-a-half-hour epic saga wouldn't have gone home empty-handed--a feat it now shares with the director's previous flick, The Irishman (also pushing the same runtime). And with last night's runtime. (Well, almost.) But all disappointment aside, Scorsese remains one of our master filmmakers and dedicated advocates for cinema. 

Getting back to the ceremony, Christopher Nolan's three-hour biopic Oppenheimer took home seven of its eleven nominations, including acting wins for Marvel vet Robert Downey Jr.'s supporting turn and DC vet Cillian Murphy's leading role (marking them the second and third people to win acting trophies for a Nolan feature, since Heath Ledger's posthumous win in 2009), Hoyte Van Hoytema's cinematography, Jennifer Lame's film editing, Ludwig Goransson's original score, Nolan's direction, and Best Picture. 

Billie Eilish (one of the best dressed that evening, along with Randolph, Ariana Grande, and Jon Batiste) and Finneas O'Connell gave a beautiful rendition of their Barbie ballad "What Was I Made For?" (which won Best Original Song, and was backed by an incredible orchestra). But it was Ryan Gosling who stole the show with his hilarious and well-choreographed performance of "I'm Just Ken". (It was extra fun watching him share the mic with co-stars Margot Robbie and America Ferrera, and director Greta Gerwig.) 

There were also some terrific reunions amongst presenters and/or nominees throughout the evening, including Twins and former Batman villains Arnold Schwarzenegger & Danny DeVito (one of the biggest laughs of the night), Beetlejuice alums Michael Keaton & Catherine O'Hara (who will be reprising their respective roles later this year), WWE pros John Cena (who had, perhaps, the most awkward moment of the night) and Dwayne Johnson backstage, and Best Picture presenter Al Pacino with Nolan and co-producer Emma Thomas (for the first time since the 2002 psychological thriller Insomnia). Pacino, however, seemed to rush opening the envelope without acknowledging the other nominees (although, I have seen this twice before, when Tom Hanks presented the award to The Hurt Locker in 2010, or when the late, great British actor Sir Laurence Olivier presented the statue to Amadeus in 1985). 

But more importantly, "Barbenheimer" reps Emily Blunt and Ryan Gosling were just two of the many presenters and/or winners (along with host Jimmy Kimmel) to salute the unsung heroes who make movies happen, from stunt performers to crew members and orchestra players. The same goes for real-life heroes, including teachers and educators (i.e., Billie Eilish's win, Best Documentary Short winner The Last Repair Shop), and those fighting and advocating for various causes around the world. Ukrainian filmmaker Mstyslav Chernov (Best Documentary Feature winner for the harrowing 20 Days in Mariupol), perhaps, said it best: "Cinema forms memories, and memories form history." Cillian Murphy also dedicated his Oscar "to the peacemakers everywhere" around the world. 

Amidst all the praise, glamour, and recognition, we should do the same.