Now, comes a version of their jewel in the monetary crown—The Lion King,which became a smash in its animated version (Disney's most successful cartoon) as well as in its Tony Award winning Broadway version directed by Julie Taymor. Who would have suspected that such a late bloomer would be its most precious commodity? Certainly not me. I was never a fan of the animated film, thinking it a step down from the Ashman-Menken days of Disney's resurgence. Audiences did not agree, as it produced a lot of revenue for Disney, despite being derivative (being based on Shakespeare's "Hamlet") and having an inferior array of songs (by Tim Rice and Elton John). I was also unnerved that the most interesting character was the villain, and that the film created a fantasy world of animals, especially in the lion kingdom where the females do all the hunting and the males...well, the males just have bragging rights.
I was also found it (oh, I hate using this word) "un-American." Hear me out. The Lion King champions the idea that power is earned the old-fashioned way—you inherit it. No room for democracy in the Pride-lands; young Simba is presented to the world as the Future King and not only do all the animals have to show up for the presentation, they have to accept it—"Here's the next King; Show some respect." Okay, who can resist a baby lion-cub, but the whole idea of the Right of Succession is what the words of the Declaration of Independence—"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal..."—was arguing in the most basic words possible; the signers were declaring that you did not have to be born in the house of Windsor or Stuart or Plantagenet in order to hold positions of power over others—better that they be decided by a majority of those to be governed. But, here we are, celebrating "kingly" DNA. Fie on it!
The film opens with a nearly shot-by-shot recreation of the "Circle of Life" sequence (I'm still expecting that to be a slogan for a fast-food restaurant or the tag-line for a Soylent Green remake) as young Simba, the son of King Mustafa (James Earl Jones, the once and future...) and Queen Sarabi (Alfre Woodard), is presented to the animal kingdome as the next line of succession. This throws a bone into the craw of the King's brother, Scar (the wonderful Chiwetel Ejiofor, in a performance much more dynamic than his on-screen performances, taking much more of a Shakespearean tone—in fact, Timothy Dalton's Shakespearean tone). Simba's birth has kicked Scar down a rung from becoming King and, having previously lost in a battle for supremacy with Mustafa, sets his mind to roiling how he can supplant his decreasing fortunes—by either eliminating Simba or Mustafa.
You know how this goes—Scar uses Simba as a lure to do away with the King, sending the young Simba into exile and leaving a vacuum in leadership that Scar is only too happy to fill.
Simba is found by two jesters Timon and Pumbaa (Billy Eichorn and Seth Rogen and both better than you'd expect) who serve as the "Falstaff" to Simba's Prince Hal/Hamlet teaching him to let go of the past and live for the moment. The odd thing about having Rogen and Eichorn as the characters is that it turns the characters into unambitious loafs rather than mere free spirits—and their directives to eat grubs comes off as very convenient as the juicy worms can't talk—or sing—in protest. Simba grows up through his awkward phase and it is only due to him being found in exile that he returns to fight what is rotten in Scar-land.
It's all very similar and familiar—although the new one's PG rating allows the word "farting" in "Hakuna Matata" (rather than "Please, not in front of the kids!") and there is some suspicious cross-promotion between Disney products.
BIG difference, though, is how the CGI-photo-realistic animals compare to the stylization of animation. In animation, you can get away with anything, like smiling prideful lions or gravity-defying suspensions in the laws of physics (or, as above, "sashaying" animals) that the CGI modelling just won't allow.*The Lion King does NOT take place in The Uncanny Valley, and so anything that smacks of fantasy will get picked apart like digital carrion. And so, director Jon Favreau, cinematographer Caleb Deschanel, and the digital zoo-keepers work overtime to make the thing look like an episode of PBS' "Nature" (I kept wondering when David Attenborough was going to chime in: "The wart-hog, although not burdened by gastric issues, will most typ-ically..."belch"—and with alarming frequency." But, as the animals are doing all the monologing, he isn't needed). It's absolutely beautiful to look at, and often breath-taking in what it presents pictorially, even bringing about a real sense of majesty in realistic settings. It's just, in very subtle ways, off-putting.
The dialog is done subtly, so as to not make it too jarring. But, it also limits the movie in its theatricality. It's a bit less eccentric and a bit less entertaining as a result, a chronic problem with the Disney remakes. The studio is going to have to find a way—a brilliant solution ala Pixar—to cross the wide expanse between imaginative line-drawing and recreating reality in their fantasies.
It's not embarrassing—like, say, what they're trying to do with "Cats." But, it's a good attempt, even if this The Lion King keeps it down to a dull roar.
* There are no plans, as yet, to do a CGI version of Fantasia. Not yet, anyway. But, before they do it, I hope they solve the issue before attempting the sequence with the dancing hippos in tutus. That's something I'd like to see.
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 likedSpider-Man: Far From Homemore 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 Existential Angst of Contemplating One's Own Shelf Life or "Thanks a Lot, Inner-Voice!"
“When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.”
1 Corinthians 13:11
I have a nasty habit of burying my lede. I start a post with what should be the last line of the thing, the zinger. But, I start writing with what I feel is the most important thought and find that when I finish up, the last line falls a bit flat. I'm not happy with it, at least. Should have ended the entry with the first line of it. It disappoints me. But, I'm gonna do it again, because it's the most important thing to say: Pixar is the most amazing producers of the finest films extant. You fan-boys can have Marvel—their percentage is nowhere near what Pixar manages to do. Marvel's film series usually peter out with the second one. The Harry Potter films were a mixed bag. And nobody's done what Pixar has done with their Toy Story series—each new chapter of the story is better than the last one, the most recent (that being Toy Story 3) was an emotional wringer and the best of the films.
Best one, that is, up to that time. Because Toy Story 4 is an improvement over it on all fronts: animation, story, presentation, screenplay, and direction. And it's deeper and more profound than anything we've seen yet, sophisticated in its themes, and makes changes to the characters and the dynamics of established tropes and story assumptions to challenge the audience and bring them along for the ride of growing up.
And it's about toys. Toys, for pity's sake. And it does all that while still being funny and extraordinarily entertaining to boot (with a snake in it).
When last we left Andy's collection of toys, they had been saved from incineration, and transported by Andy to little Bonnie, a shy 4 year old toddler with a rich inner life. The movie begins in flashback with a crisis: it's raining and Andy has brought in his toys from playing outside. All except one. The mechanical race-car, RC, has been left outside and is struggling to keep from being swept away in a gully-washer. Woody (voiced again by Tom Hanks) organizes a rescue party and with the help of Slinky-dog (voiced by Blake Clark) rescues RC. But, another toy is about to be lost—Bo Peep (voiced by Annie Potts) and her three-headed sheep is being given away as her lamp is no longer needed in Andy's sister's room. Woody tries to rescue her—it's what he does—from being exiled to another home, but Bo Peep will have none of it. She accepts her fate. "Sometimes, toys get lost in the yard or put in the wrong box. It's okay. I'm not Andy's toy. It's time for the next kid." And she gets carted away, while Andy can only watch hopelessly, lying lumped in the car-port in the rain.
Cut to now—and Bonnie's world. Woody organizes the toys—it's what he does—calming their fears as they're consigned to the closet on cleaning day. Bonnie comes back from the dust-up and pulls the toys from their temporary confinement, all except Woody, who can only watch and wonder what's changed.*A lot, it turns out. It's the end of summer, and Bonnie is now five—time for a big transition (there a lot of them in Toy Story 4), as the shy little girl is about to be thrust into the world of an unprotective collective—kindergarten, and she is required to go to "orientation." Bonnie has always been a shy child, tremulously so. And the prospect of going to kindergarten without a parental leg to hide behind is devastating to her, causing a melt-down. What she needs is a sheriff to come to the rescue—or, at least, that's what Woody thinks—so he stashes himself in her back-pack, a stowaway to school.
It's a scary place with other kids, kids without borders or boundaries and unchecked id's. When she sits down for activities, another child swipes all her arts supplies. Woody observes all this and manages to find a way to sneak out of his hiding place and toss Bonnie with supplies in the trash. She's inspired to take a stick, a spork, pipe-cleaners, and some play-doh and makes her own toy and companion—"Forky" (voiced by a wonderful Tony Hale)—who manages to sustain Bonnie through the day and give her a sense of accomplish. Good enough. But, when Bonnie gets home ("I finished kindergarten!!" "Uh...honey?"), Woody introduces Forky to the other toys.
But, Forky has issues. He's a bit pre-verbal and can't quite see himself as a toy, but, rather as trash. It's an instinctual fixation and he must be restrained from constantly throwing himself in the nearest dumpster. Leave that to Woody, who has his own instinctual fixation—it inspires composer Randy Newman (Yay!) to write a lovely gospel song entitled "I Can't Let You Throw Yourself Away" exposing Woody as a plasticene guardian angel, a caretaker—and he wails to Buzz Lightyear (voiced by Tim Allen) "I don't know if you remember what it was like when Andy was a kid, but, I don't remember it being this hard!"
A road trip with Bonnie and her parents as a final Summer fling before school provides ample opportunity for Forky to trash himself and for Woody to come to the rescue, whether the little spork wants him to or not. It also provides him the opportunity to re-unite with Bo Peep, who has changed considerably after leaving Andy's house and, ultimately, escaping from an antiques shop called "Second Chances" (heh).
As Bo tells Woody, "I don't want to sit on a shelf waiting for my life to happen." But, Woody is in a different place. For Woody, it's all about The Child, or any toy in crisis that might adversely effect said child. It always has been. And so much of his time has been about taking care of other's needs—he's taken his fake sheriff's badge too literally—and the movie spends much of its time with Woody coming to the rescue and realizing that seems to be his sole reason for existence, because he knows no other pattern of behavior.
Bo provides another perspective; she has a good life on her own without the need for a child in her life. But, Woody is stuck in his ways—there are only so many phrases in his talk-box if you want a literalness to the concept. It's all in service to the child. It always has been and always will be.
That's the crux of the movie: a toy's need to be needed, and the damage that such activity can cause to one's own shelf-life. Along the way, Toy Story 4 delves into parallel stories of toys' needs to be given purpose—of the toys at the antiques shop waiting to be given a chance at being taken home, and a pair of prizes that never seem to be claimed at a shooting arcade at a nearby carnival—all the while the toys are working overtime trying to get Forky back to Bonnie.
The major story is at the antiques store, which is given a creepy atmosphere recalling Kubrick's The Shining—at one point, an old 78 plays "Midnight, the Stars, and You"—with the long-abandoned Gabby Gabby (Christina Hendricks), a talking doll with a damaged voice-box that she believes is keeping her from being taken home to some needy child. She keeps Forky hostage in the hopes of taking Woody's so she can have her chance, and she runs the antiques store like her own personal führerbunker with demented ventriloquist's dummies as her shock-troops. Creepy.
Then, there are the plush arcade animals, Ducky and Bunny (voiced hilariously by Keegan Michael-Key and Jordan Peele), who've been hanging around as shooting gallery prizes for so long they've developed something of an attitude waiting for kids to just hit the damn targets. They get roped into the whole "Second Chances" plot and they have a rather aggressive way of handling problems. Probably been at the range too long. Also aiding is a Canadian stunt-toy called Duke Kaboom, whose stunt skills are used for an elaborate rescue, and who is voiced by Keanu Reeves, still nailing the mock-heroic voice.
Pixar ups the artistic quality a notch—the world is a bit more complicated and messier with dust-bunnies, cob-webs and dust-motes that dance in sun-beams, little details that one didn't realize were missing until the animators made it essential (Andy, too, in the flashback sequences looks far more real than the crude animator grids in the first movie allowed). But, it's also more sophisticated in the way the film questions the series trope—that a toy is useful only if it's needed by its possessor. This one dispels that idea as a given and makes it relevant, not only to the film's characters, but to the larger issues of the audience's as well...as we all (as Bob Dylan observed) gotta serve somebody. And that's if we're a caretaker, or just a work-a-day 9 to 5'er, a Mom or a sheriff. Yeah, we gotta serve. But we also gotta know that we're not just what we work at. We gotta know when the job is done. We've got to know ourselves.
Remember Toy Story 3? Remember how it had the perfect ending, even though it was kind of sad and changed things? How it worked outside your comfort zone, but you also knew it was the perfect ending for the story? Turns out that it was for its time. But, another story needed to be told. We just didn't know it yet. And Toy Story 4 tells it with such care and such skill...and wisdom—without taking its eyes off the entertainment value—that you might think it's a perfect ending.
You might even think—like me—that it was even better than Toy Story 3, which, as I said at the beginning, was the best of the series so far. And I wept like a baby at it. I'm at the point, now, where I wouldn't mind another Toy Story movie, so good are these creators at telling a story and making it essential. Making movies that matter and increasingly raising the bar...for themselves and for us.
So exceptionally well done.
* He is consoled by some other toys, which Pixar casts with some essential voices—Alan Oppenheimer, Carol Burnett, Carl Reiner, Mel Brooks, and Betty White. That seems so right. Maybe not essential, but a lovely gesture.
** Newman does another brilliant score with two new amazing songs, and I always imagine Seth McFarland gritting his teeth and thinking "I write better stuff than THAT." No. No, he doesn't. But he tries so hard to do something better than what Newman seems to do so effortlessly. That's because Newman is a genius who makes it look easy. McFarland just studies and copies...and comes up short. Professional jealousy is a terrible thing...and not very professional
MIBI. MIBI Not.
or "...Some Next-Level Shit Going On"
The economics of the "Men in Black" series required some sort of re-boot; if they'd gone with previous stars, they'd have had to save on a cosmically scoped series by restricting their location work to Will Smith's voluminous trailer. Besides, the series needed it. The "Men in Black" organization in the previous three films had a galaxy-wide perspective, but we never got to know anybody but the two leads, that film's chief antagonist, and the organization's leader, which it it feel like director Barry Sonnenfeld's perspective-warping visual-joke-tags. It was seriously about time to expand the series' event horizons and give it a little breadth. That they've done withMen in Black Internationalby introducing a new recruit. Call her Molly (the charming Tessa Thompson), but she's agent M in MIB (Do they have only 26 agents?? Then they can't even get a decent group-rate insurance discount!), whose encounter with an alien (and the actions of the MIB organization during it) inspires her to become an agent with the super-secret agency as an adult. She's farmed out—by MIB head O (Emma Thompson, the only past cast to return—at least they're keeping the best)—to the foreign exchange to learn the ropes of alien wrangling and memory wiping.
O sends her to the London office where she meets former agent T (Liam Neeson) who has become the head of the department—he's now referred to as High-T (so precious).**He pairs her with Agent H (Chris Hemsworth), his former partner on a Paris mission to intercept and neutralize a group of aliens called "The Hive." H is well-regarded in the organization, but he is a kind of a Bondish Man in Black with a sloppy work ethic and walks around like he's coated in black teflon.
The plot—such as it is—involves a version of the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand, who, with his dying exhalation entrusts M with a cosmic McGuffin that can be transformed into a powerful weapon capable of creating a Grand Canyon in any state without benefit of a a large river and millions of years. There could be details detailed that would expand the synopsis, but, they're exceptionally un-clever and we've seen them before. Aliens invade, assume human form, are looking for something with a power far greater than its tiny size would indicate, and...oh, yes, they're helped by an alien who has suffered at the hands of the invaders. This isn't writing, this is word-processing and the Ctrl, C, and V keys are getting a bit worn.
And that's it. This is going to be a very short review for a movie that doesn't deserve any more scrutiny, merely due to its lack of effort. Hemsworth and Thompson were delightful together in Thor: Ragnarok and they are not throughout this one, although Thompson tries mightily hard. They just don't seem to mesh, probably because Hemsworth's H isn't hamstrung and is allowed to lord it over the obviously more competent M, which rankles and flies in the face of what worked in the Marvel film.
Or, it just might be that that film's director, Taiki Waititi, had a better sense of how to keep the two actors bouncing off each other, than this film's F. Gary Gray** does (although his work here is a fair imitation of Sonnenfeld's loopy roller-coaster ride that threatens to go off the rails at any second) and that seems to extend to the rest of the cast, including Rebecca Ferguson, who's great in the "Mission: Impossible" films, but is utterly charmless here.
Capitalizing on past glories in MIBI
In a Universe of ideas and the expectation that science-fiction might go somewhere where no writer has gone before, why would anyone settle for this re-tread that doesn't even try hard to do something new or think a little differently. Geez, they couldn't even try to do a compare and contrast with the American version, the film being based in Europe and all? But, no, that might be doing something beyond anyone's scope, micro-or tele. Hey, guys, maybe bring back Linda Fiorentino's Agent L from the first movie? I mean...anything? I don't think the franchise could stand another one like this: been there, zapped that.
Ya really didn't like it, huh?
* Hey, maybe they could do a cross-over with Taken, and this time, his daughter could be abducted by aliens—c'mon, it's as believable as the LAST one.
** Gray tried to leave the project, supposedly, as the film suffered from Studio "regime-Change" confusion, and its producer Walter Parkes re-wrote the script that Thompson and Hemsworth signed up for, and he even directed parts of it. Geez, maybe the next movie should have a race of incompetent aliens trying make sense of an invasion plot when their leader dies.
