The Marvel machine is up and running the sides of skyscrapers once again, spinning webs over lampposts, swinging freely through city streets.
With this latest installment of Spidey in the suit, protecting NYC’s friendly neighborhood boroughs, of course he’s going to meet up with some baddies. And, who better than Michael Keaton to play “Vulture” and offset the mix.
Robert Downey Jr returns as Iron Man – this time as fatherly mentor… Or anti-mentor.
A growing all-star line-up also adds Marisa Tomei, Zendaya, and my personal fav Donald Glover to the already long list of Marvel celebs including returners Jon Favreau and Gwyneth Paltrow. The story is sweet, fresh, young, and suitable for all audiences, I believe.
Somehow it’s cool because it doesn’t fight to stay cool; it just builds on confidence and lets Homecoming be the coming-of-age story it’s meant to be.
Where both Maguire and Garfield’s Spideys fueled their flames of revenge, young Tom Holland seems to fan sparks of curiosity, hope, and an indefatigable sense of personal justice giving the film an upbeat, playful tone.
The quirky Quill backstory, as re-told by Kurt Russell’s appropriately named character Ego, becomes the centralized plotline as themes such as friendship, integrity, surrogate family systems, and revenge come into play.
Despite the incalculable death toll, it feels more like video game “lives” lost and tallied than body count. A colony of golden beings only emphasized this notion and added over-the-top scenarios and comedic tone to an already laughable script.
The soundtrack feels more mellow without Hooked on a Feeling but equally iconic and era-driven.
The band together, add Stallone and baby Groot, can really take on the task of guarding this golden, disparate, conflict-laden galaxy with a little help from their friends. Thanks to the 80’s, they’ll never run out of tunes, and the Marvel universe can live on making sequels forever.
It’s iconically beautiful, scenes of my childhood unveil in perfect cake-topper symmetry. Emma Watson’s eyes sparkle as she sings through the little town. In her quiet pastel village, she’s the odd duck as the independent bookish type in bright blue. She’s a Hermione amongst so many muggles.
And the ancient story goes that her father offered to bring her a gift and she asked only for a single rose. I loved the incorporation of the original fairy tale. 
When he is captured, she sacrificially takes her father’s place as a prisoner at the enchanted castle where famous voices fill the gorgeous household items: Emma Thompson as Mrs. Potts, Sir Ian Mckellan as Cogsworth, Ewan McGregor as Lumiere, and sweet Stanley Tucci as Maestro the piano.
Gaston truly stole the show. He and LeFou, French for “the fool,” perfectly capture their cartoons and embody the enemy and comrade just back from the war now looking to settle down. Rumors regarding LeFou’s identity seem forced since he is more admirer side-kick than love interest.
Not since Wall-E has a Disney flick seen the need to bend each voice so electronically. Poor Emma seemed almost upset about it sometimes, almost as much as she seemed mostly happy during the Be Our Guest scene (in which she never eats) or the library scene – always almost excited. She was most certainly asked to play Belle almost expressionlessly, especially opposite the oddly shifting CGI-bodied Beast. Emma’s stalemate facials perhaps made the beast more lifelike until he became Matthew from Downton Abbey – a truly unexpected transformation.
If your expectations mirror mine, they will be more than met with twice the explosions and ten times the classic Samuel L. one-liners (including his iconic JP “Hold onto your butts”). Amazing.
Brie Larson is a gem, as always. Believable, determined photojournalist with a bleeding heart to let photos end wars, she bravely tracks into the unknown jungle island with the baby-faced band of troops just leaving Vietnam. 
The cast is lovely. Sweet Thomas Mann (from last year’s Me & Earl & the Dying Girl) adds to this outstanding gang of hopefuls. Believe it or not, I’d watch it again just to hang out with these people. They chose a cast of people I’d want to have dinner with. They are all delightful, even though, yes, many get squashed by a Kong foot or skewered by a giant spider leg. The sequence in the Kong graveyard is so beautifully filmed it’s worth the price of admission.
It’s fun. The pace works. The cast works. The film feels comprised of thousands of hero shots, mostly of Kong himself, the true hero of his film.
Delightfully surprised by this one. It had the best effects to date, and I was equally won by humor and lighthearted giddy snark as Benedict Cumberbatch embraces his Marvel side. The pace of the film somehow works despite the constant embedding of exposition in tectonic spinning and explosive flair. It’s rather beautiful.
Some may complain about the heavy-handed mysticism present, but Strange himself keeps the Film leveled as a man of sarcasm and science.
Log line it: when a self-centered brain surgeon tests fate one dark and stormy night he is left incapacitated without the use of his hands, so his medical quest leads him on a spiritual journey – one which forms his heroic destiny.
Dr. Strange will return and with him a host of Marvel merch and intertwined storylines. Those infinity stones have birthed quite a following from Hydra to heart-valves to Galaxy Guards with great musical taste. Now they have a mystic who can control time, and somehow it works.
Other traditions run askew as many “no mag” muggles get involved in Newt’s quest, from leftover Salem witch-hunters to a bumbling baker who stumbles into the case of wonders.
Colin Farrell is a vision, though he helps turn the film’s tone much darker than trailers intimated it would go. From glossy pluck to murderous violence, Beasts delights then frightens. It’s very dark, and Farrell’s character plays nearly pedophilic in moments as he mentors a younger boy. The death scenes are equally disturbing.
But one glowing report is in the telling of the story. HP author, JK Rowling, tries her hand at screenwriting with skill and success. She carefully builds up her underdogs through circumstances that shape them into confident heroes, and her cruel antagonists get their proper comeuppances.
And yes, the beasts themselves prove to be incredibly resourceful and resilient wild animals: truly fantastic.
One of Pete’s Dragon‘s fatal flaws had to lie in casting: Karl Urban plays the nicest bad guy, Bentley gives off disinterested dad vibes, Howard sadly looked constipated for most of the film, and Redford must have filmed his short scenes all in about a day.
Sadly the magic of this film was mostly lost in long, streaming dialogue, kid-film slapstick, and overly dramatized pauses. Those lingering gazes of wonder at the empty sky must have made for long days of filming and a lot of hopeful discussions with CG artists. Not even the interspersed narration by Robert Redford himself could heal the dragon’s lackluster character.
Only Alice, the outsider with faith, teachability, and insight can muster the time-space travel, beg Mr. Time for help, and fix the past that threatens to ruin the future.
Story-wise, it works. Visually, it’s an artistic masterpiece. The actors who play Lewis Carroll’s magical literary characters personify whimsy. 
Bringing cartoon graphics to life, this film honors the imagination of the original author while inventing new lovable characters and rescuing old favorites. Alice admits to being older on this visit. They almost expect it as time is the incessant motif. 
The film moves like a clock, an almost obnoxious pace and overload of visual imagery unless viewers enter aware of and expecting it. 
The Narnian quest becomes more like a hero’s journey in that she works to save the wonder world she loves, and in the process she discovers her own value and freedom from grief.
These SNL favs and friends know how to get a laugh. They are made to entertain. They laugh at themselves first, and it works. These funny women of New York have taken Hollywood by storm and come back to town with bigger names and top billing. They’ve earned it. Chris Hemsworth also runs havoc as the team’s dimwitted receptionist and top poltergeist target.
Splatter: on FILM 