Spider-Man: Far From Home

Spider-Man's European Vacation
or
Spider-Man, Spider-Man
Visiting Europe (Not Amsterdam)
London, Prague and "The Boot"
Too Much Gadgetry in His Suit
Mon Dieu!
Qu'Est-ce Que C'est, Spider-Homme.
(Wherever There's a Baguette/
Aunt May's Too Young to Nag Yet)
Stay Sticky, Spider-Maaaaaaan!)*

Upfront: I liked Spider-Man: Far From Home more than I liked Spider-Man: Homecoming, but I'm not sure that will be the way of the mob. The central premise is "people will believe anything" and it spends more time than a White House spokesman proving that very point. I think folks will believe that less than the ability to wipe out half a Universe with a snap of your fingers. ("Yeah, man, but...ya know..."Stones.")

Spider-Man: Far From Home acknowledges the events of The Avengers movies (Infinity War and Endgame) right off the bat—even before the Marvel Studios Logo—everyone is calling it "The Blip" and it has caused all sorts of embarrassing havoc in the world. For example, Peter Parker's Aunt May (Marisa Tomei) re-appeared in her apartment after it rented out to someone else—embarrassing—the courts, insurance companies, and homeowners associations must be swamped. Reappearing students at Peter's high school have found that five years have elapsed (but not their three-picture deals) and a lot of their friends have graduated and moved on—and the absent students had to take their mid-terms again (I'm surprised the admins remembered, but at least the kids who returned didn't need a note to explain their absenteeism).

Anyway, they acknowledge it (but avoid the complexities), as well as the deaths of The Vision, Black Widow, Captain America (heh) and, of course, Iron Man Tony Stark. Especially Tony Stark. And Peter Parker (Tom Holland), only recently pulled back together, is feeling that death, and it's tearing him apart. It was Stark who recruited him for the Avengers, it was Stark who built his suits, and it is Stark that the public wants Spider-Man to live up to—they're looking for another Iron Man and they assume it will be Spider-Man.** But, as Peter tells Stark majordomo "Happy" Hogan (Jon Favreau, in between Disney jungle movies) he doesn't think he can live up to the Legacy. "Nobody expects you to live up to Tony Stark," Hogan counsels. "Even he couldn't live up to it." As a parting gift, Happy bequeaths some last Stark tech—a pair of glasses with interactive gizmo's, access to all sorts of Stark Industries technology, and its AI interface, EDITH. "Tony loved acronyms," says Hogan. "It stands for "Even Dead, I'm The Hero." 

Best line of the movie.

Samuel L. Jackson's reprise of "Bitch, please....." from Kong: Skull Island is the second.

So, while Peter feels the great power/great responsibility weight of the Legacy, his class is preparing for a science field-trip in Europe. Why Europe? Because 77% of Americans believe in angels, that's why. For Peter, this is of high importance, not so much for the science stuff, but for...yaknow...personal stuff. No longer enamored of Liz Toomes (Laura Harrier from Homecoming and, one should mention, BlackKklansman), he's more interested in Michelle "M.J." Jones (Zendaya), pretty, blunt ("You look pretty." "And therefore, I have value?"), and oddly dark—he wants to let her know that he likes her and he plans to make La Grande Gesture by telling her on top of the Eiffel Tower. But, he has a rival for MJ's affections in Brad (Remi Hii) who, after the blip, has aged five years and turned into something of a hunk. So, Spidey's attentions are focused on that.

Un-focusing are the constant calls from Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) of S.H.I.E.L.D., who, with Agent Hill (Cobie Smulders) is trying to web-sling Peter into helping out with what seem to be a global crisis of elemental monsters—earth, air, water, and fire—which are popping up all over the world causing considerable damage. But, where these things are coming from, and why, are a mystery. But, they have a good idea. And it comes from an unlikely source—a previous victim, whose own Earth has been destroyed by the elementals.

His name is Quentin Beck (Jake Gyllenhaal, more on him later) who has traveled to this Earth (616, in case you want to update your Facebook profile) from his own (Earth-833)—if it existed. His Earth was destroyed by the Fire elemental that was allowed to get out of control and consume his world. How, Beck, whom Parker dubs "Mysterio," got here, no one knows—presumably the same way the "things" got here, by subtracting 217, turn right at Mars. Fury wants Spider-Man to team up with Mysterio, who seems to have a knack with his magical Dr. Strange-ish powers, to try to stop the threat, but Parker is reluctant—he's not Iron Man and not sure he could do anything to stop something so huge. But, Fury is insistent, and he has a contingency plan.

He uses the considerable resources of S.H.I.E.L.D to re-route the school science trip to wherever they think the elementals will appear, which although it may be a bit abrupt to the group, but it comes with upgrades, so nobody's complaining. Well, except for Parker who bleats to best-friend Ned, "Nick Fury has hijacked our summer vacation!!" Yes, he has. But, he hasn't done it alone.

That's the plot and the main gist of the important elements (no pun intended). The film-makers flesh it out with the side-characters, and a hint of intrigue that doesn't feel too threatening in its implications. It's wise that they come down to Earth after the cosmic implications of The Avengers movies—although they flirt with the Marvel version of the Multi-verse, only to let it go...leave that to Into the Spider-verse. Also, the threat, though having elements of the supernatural, boils down to that most Earth-bound of villains, the Disgruntled Employee. But, the threat part is mere window-dressing. It's a bit dull—what we've come to expect.

The best part of Spider-Man: Far From Home is not the super-heroics (aside from a very creative "dream" sequence); it's the kids. The messy, fussy, hormonal, and slightly desperate mood-yanks of teen-ager-dom are neatly, comically, played out, especially of kids in unfamiliar surroundings and disorienting circumstances. The throwing of semi-confident kids into non-comfort zones and their ability to cope—or not—is well thought out and played. And the tentative, nervous romantic pairing of Zendaya and Holland makes for the most enjoyable Spider-couple in any of the versions of Spider-Man brought to the screen.

There are elements that bothered me—the CGI of the Mysterio fights with the Elementals are some of the dodgier special effects I've seen in the Marvel movies...and the characterization of Nick Fury seemed...off to me. Now, maybe I'm being too much of a Marvel-zombie saying this, but...could this have been done deliberately? It's not a good strategy because I found it a bit disorienting, but given the way the film plays out, one could make the case that they was intentional. Still, it makes my Spider-sense tingle.

And Jake Gyllenhaal? I've seen Gyllenhaal do great things, even in "iffy" movies. But, here, he's terrible and it might be the biggest character mis-fire since Ben Kingsley's The Mandarin in Iron Man Three (or Paul Giamatti's Rhino in The Amazing Spider-Man 2). One could imagine someone doing some great things with the role, but Gyllenhaal's portrayal has no depth, and little consistency from scene to scene. It might have been the script, but I suspect the actor was thinking how he'd ever live down the costume, rather than looking at the character with a solid through-line.

Anyway, good times most of the time. Definitely stay for the End-Credits scenes, one of which brings back a beloved Spider-Man character, and the other which made me even more suspicious those things that bothered me were deliberate.
Made me go "Hmmmm."

"Stay sticky...except with Aunt May"

* Alternate Lyrics:
Takes His Class on a Trip/
Awfully Vague about "The Blip"/
Oh, Snap! There Went the Spider-Man

** Uh, why? It's not like Hawkeye can become Thor, or The Hulk become Black Widow...I mean, these heroes do what they can based on their skill-sets, people. 
a) I still find it funny that so much emphasis is put on Iron Man—he was a Tier 2 super-hero at Marvel, the movie series wasn't great, but it's only Robert Downey Jr.'s portrayal that kick-started the Marvel Studios success story. Downey was the corner-stone and BVP utility actor for the studio, which is why he's being lionized.
b) Why Spider-Man? Does everybody know the link between the two heroes? The public didn't know. We know, because we've seen the movies...Oh, it's okay, Marvel. Keep collecting your zillions.

The Beguiled (2017)

Some Real Southern Hospitality
or
"Seems Having the Soldier Here is Having an Effect"

One can't mention Sofia Coppola's film of The Beguiled without saying that it is a remake of the 1971 collaboration between Clint Eastwood and his favorite director Don Siegel—the film credits the source novel by Thomas Cullinan (originally called "The Painted Devil"), but also the original's screenplay by Albert Maltz and Irene Kamp (both written under psuedonyms). It is one of the few box-office failures of Eastwood's career, but it is one of his favorites as it was Don Siegel's opinion that it was the best film he had directed. Universal Studios' handling of the film's marketing caused a rift between them and their star, which led to him leaving Universal for Warner Brothers, and one can only speculate why it did so poorly. Eastwood was Universal's biggest stars at the time and it was thought because the film was marketed as a typical Eastwood action film that it didn't succeed, being decidedly different in scope and purpose, and because Eastwood spends so much of the film laid-up from a war injury. Whatever the reason, The Beguiled is well-regarded as an atypical Eastwood film by both fans of the star and Siegel. That it also features a great performance by the legendary Geraldine Page doesn't hurt, either.

If it is so well-regarded, why the hell re-make it? Good question. The story, about a wounded Union soldier who is found and harbored by a Southern Seminary for young women, hasn't changed. It is still quite solidly in the Southern Gothic tradition. But, times have changed, and with it, the angle that Coppola approaches the story from.

It's a bucolic Virginia morning as Amy (Oona Lawrence), a young student of Miss Farnsworth's Seminary for Young Women, goes about her morning duties, picking berries, mushrooms, communing with nature. What she doesn't expect is that she'd come across Corporal John McBurney (Colin Farrell), a Union soldier of the 66th out of New York, splayed out under a tree, suffering from a nasty bullet wound to the leg. She's curious, a bit wary, but her instinct is to take him back to the seminary. "do you want to go back (to the Army)?" she asks him, as he leans on her for support. "Maybe," he says in a thick Irish brogue "when me leg stops bleeding."

The women are in the middle of a sewing lesson when he's collapsed onto the path before the front entryway. His wound is checked and it's bad. McBurney has just enough presence to say "I am grateful to be your prisoner" before he passes out. The head of the seminary, Miss Farnsworth (Nicole Kidman) gives instructions to the girls to lift him into the house to the parlor on the first floor. There, while the other girls gather like sparrows outside the locked door, she cleans his leg and stitches the wound, which is a bloody mess.

Miss Farnsworth's first instinct is to alert the Union soldiers who occasionally pass by, putting a blue rag on the fence that separates the seminary from the road out front. She is persuaded by the girls not to do so, at least until his leg is healed. To this, she agrees, but only for a limited time. When McBurney becomes conscious, he tells her that he deserted the battlefield after becoming wounded, and was only there because he'd accepted $300 to take another man's place in the Union army. He acquiesces to Miss Farnsworth's plans to send him away, but it's quite clear he doesn't want to go back into the service. Her loyalties become confused when a pair of Southern soldiers come to the house for food, and no word is mentioned about their unexpected guest.

The girls of the school become quite taken with Corporal McBurney, finding any excuse to be close by when anyone enters the room in order to sneak a peak at the soldier. Amy feels closest to him and protective as she's the one who found him. But, it is Miss Edwina Morrow (Kirsten Dunst), who has the deepest feelings for him. For his part, McBurney, fearing that he could be turned over to the Rebel soldiers at any time, tries to gain as many allies as possible in the house, concentrating on Miss Farnsworth, who has the most to lose by keeping him there, and Edwina, to whom he professes great affection. But, he is in the thoughts of all of the girls, and relations inside the house become strained with similar, if differing agendas. During evening prayers, one of the girls (Elle Fanning) sneaks to his room to give the Colonel a long, lingering kiss good-night.

When McBurney is recovered enough to be able to amble about with the use of a cane, Miss Farnsworth and the girls decide to throw him a dinner, show him "some real Southern hospitality." A well-intentioned idea on the whole, but in the particular, all of the girls try to out-do each other in impressing the Colonel, wearing their finest clothes and jewelry and trying one-up each other by telling him who made what in the dinner.

The evening ends with music and McBurney is treated to a performance by all the women, each of whom appraise him with their own thoughts—he must think he's in the luckiest position he could be in, but he is still a prisoner, and is probably losing that realization.

"...similar, if differing agendas"

As his strength grows, he starts to make a case with Miss Farnsworth that he could be useful as a groundskeeper, and begins to clear brush, trim trees, and generally tend to work that has been neglected during the war. All the time, he continues to make advances on Edwina, while not betraying anything but trustworthiness to Miss Farnsworth, who starts to see McBurney as a needed presence.

This can't come to any good, and with so much temptation, and a misguided idea that he might be gaining favor and some control over the situation, McBurney makes an error in judgement that further cripples him and causes the situation at the seminary to deteriorate at a rapid pace. He fails to realize that he is at the school's mercy. And the quality of mercy in times of war can be quite strained.

Coppola's direction is austere—far more austere and far less heated than Siegel's direction of the previous version. Siegel brought a quality of guignol and even a bit of horror to his version, while Coppola's is all surface gentility, betraying good manners that are always presented up-front, while their opposite simmers underneath. It is most interesting that, given the time interval between the versions, that Coppola's adaptation is not afraid to present that veneer of civility practically all of the way through—she is very much on the girls' side (and although one can hardly say that Siegel's film is on the side of McBurney, we are much more privy to the Eastwood's versions private reactions than we are to Farrell's, who only betrays any duplicity in times of desperation. Eastwood's corporal was a smiling fox, while Farrell is a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Coppola isn't afraid to show the fractured relationship of the girls, without a hint of judgment or condemnation that they might work against each other for their own ends. Each one sees a different side of McBurney, the one he wishes them to see, and that they act on instinct and are all individuals makes it a bit more understandable, empowering, but hardly feminist.

All's fair in love and war, Coppola's version of The Beguiled brings that home in one dark combination of both. 

The Nice Guys

How Awful About Amelia
or
"Kids these Days..." ("Don't Say 'and stuff.' Just say, Dad, there are whores here.")

Shane Black excels at "buddy" movies—he did, after all, create the Lethal Weapon series. That's a good thing and a bad thing: when he does something like Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, he comes up with a mystery, pushed off-kilter by the clashing personalities of his protagonists; when he does something like Iron Man 3 with a clearly dominant personality, the movie lurches out of control from its lack of counter-point. The Nice Guys has no such issues and actually improves on his formula.

I have to confess: any PI movie set in the 70's that starts out with the funk-shimmer of "Papa was a Rolling Stone" is already on my good side. When it establishes locale and detail by doing a rear-view fly-over of a decaying "Hollywood" sign to settle over a ranch-house in the valley at the base of that sign it shows someone is being careful with the atmosphere. Black follows the night-time perambulations of a child-denizen wandering the house who manages to score by finding a copy of dad's "Cavalier" magazine and then becomes distracted by a centerfold that he doesn't see a sports-car sailing off a cliff overhanging his backyard and bouncing through his house, you're seeing someone saying something about a world out of whack in the most surprising and arresting way possible.

And it keeps getting better.

Like most "buddy" movies, the two don't start as "buddies." Jackson Healy (Russell Crowe) is a lone wolf and is the muscle-arm of the detective business. People hire him to be tough and threaten. He's been at this long enough to have eliminated the tough stuff; the rules are simple: people are persuaded easier when they're hurting and it gives them to know that he is serious. Business rarely needs to be repeated. It is a bad side of the business, but he has a good side; he is recognized (when he is recognized, which is rarely) as "the diner guy" who disarmed a gun-man and beat him into unconsciousness with his own weapon. It made the news and it was good for business, if beating up people is your business. He does his work efficiently and with humor, even providing helpful medical advice to help with the future hospitalization. He's good at his job, but a bit of a troglodyte.

Holland March (Ryan Gosling) is a widower with an 11 year old daughter in tow. He's the brains end of PI work, but that is being generalized and charitable. He specializes in the bizarre cases that most detectives would dismiss as a waste of time. Holland doesn't think it's a waste as long as money is being wasted his way. He has sharp instincts, but absolutely no physical skills and his mental facilities are being impaired by his habit of drinking himself into a stupor. The death of his wife has thrown him into an incapacitating depression, and it is only his caretaker-daughter Holly (Angourie Rice), 11 going on 35, that keeps him on his flat-feet and peeping.

Holland has been making the rounds, searching for Amelia (Margaret Qualley), a girl who has disappeared in the L.A. of 1977. It is not a good place, rife with crime, prostitution, porn and drugs—in other words, not unlike the Los Angeles of today, but with more water. Amelia is a typical missing-persons case, she's a headstrong runaway, privileged, entitled, mad at her mother (Kim Basinger) and determined to get back at her, how is anybody's guess. Holland does some interviewing at local clubs and bars, but Amelia is untraceable.

She should have asked Healy. Amelia has just hired him to beat Holland up and warn him off the case, breaking an arm that March has already bandaged from a breaking-and-entering gone wrong. He also gives a nice little back injury that, considering all the running around that goes on towards the end of the picture, seems to heal itself magically—either that, or he has wonderful muscle relaxants.

It is only when Healy is attacked in his office (above The Comedy Store, which is different) by a couple of toughs (Keith David, Beau Knapp) who are also looking for Amelia, that he begins to think that there may be more to this than just a simple thump-for-hire. Maybe March is working for the same guys who are threatening him or maybe not, but whatever the reason, Amelia seems to be a popular girl and Healy wants to find her so he can find out why he is also being threatened. Time to combine resources.

Back-track to March, who, understandably, is pained to have anything to do with Healy, but their mutual self-interest not to be shot persuades them to pool their resources Amelia-tracking and maybe find out who the people are who are targeting both of them. The two look for leads at a protest rally against L.A.'s smog conditions organized by Amelia and meet an acquaintance of hers named Chet (Jack Kilmer) a self-described "projectionalist," who takes them to the former residence of Amelia's boyfriend, "former" as it has recently been destroyed in a fire. The boyfriend's former employer was a porn producer who is hosting a party at his cliff-side mansion. 

It's an eventful party: March's daughter, Holly, stows away in the trunk of March's car, Healy runs into the toughs who roughed him up earlier, and March discovers the body of the porn producer, after drunkenly falling over a balcony railing and tumbling down the cliff. Oh, and they run into Amelia, who flees with Holly after being threatened by one of the thugs.

Things bump along, as the two detectives adjust to their working styles (or lack of them), just long enough to realize that they are out of their depth, the forces they're investigating being organized and a couple steps ahead of them, so that things get resolved but messily.

The movie is a bit shaggy-dog as far as clues-continuity—there are some leaps in logic and convenient encounters that only occur to you after the movie is over, as it entertains and Crowe and Gosling work overtime with a mis-matched relationship that, at times, recalls Abbott and Costello in their extremes (Gosling's March, when sober, has a funny coward's way of reacting to moments of stress)

Yes, that is a giant bee in March's back-seat, and, no, it's not a drug joke.

But, there's a nice through-line to the thing. The kids. While the adults are preoccupied with shuffling money around and their own narcissistic amoral short-term agendas, the kids are left to their own devices and having to make their way through, wondering if they have a future. The kids are alright, but they're judging, while the adults wander through the blighted glitz-scape accepting things for what they are, which is beyond their control. They've given up on the long-term, which, for the kids, hasn't even happened yet. 

And they're pissed. They're trying to understand the world they're growing into, to become adults, but they're getting the sense that their elders have given up on being adults themselves, so, if they're going to have any hopes and dreams besides having change in their pockets, they have no examples to look to. And feeling a definite disconnect with this L.A. world, like being little aliens in the landscape. No wonder they're insecure and going off the handle—no one wants to hold the handle! It's a latch-key world with deadbeat parents who not only do not care about doing the right thing, they've lost track of what that might be. In most of these "peeper" movies, it's the detective looking for answers who provides the moral center by his reactions to his discoveries. Not this movie. It's the kids, who are also looking for answers, who are the moral compass, pointing to true.

In most instances, the "kids are smarter than adults" trope comes off as precious or stupid, but The Nice Guys manages to make a great case for it, placing it in this genre, in this city, at this time. You tend to believe it. And wonder how they survived.

March demonstrates the "bad-breath tie" to Healy
(which sure looks improvised).