"Black Panther" Review

OP-ROB RATING: STARTER

          “Black Panther” stars Chadwick Boseman as King T’Challa, who rules a fictional central African country called Wakanda.  To the naked eye, Wakanda resembles a tiny, desolate third world country.  However, a centuries old secret has hidden the country’s greatness.  Operating behind an invisibility shield, Wakanda is a small, but bustling kingdom far superior in technological advancements than any country in the world.  The key to their power is an abundance of a rare metal called vibranium.  The metal has extraordinary powers, working as a self-sufficient power source as well having super-strength on par with Wolverine’s adamantium in the “X-Men” series.  Vibranium allows Wakanda to thrive independently, while concealing itself from the outside world, for it is the power source for the shield.  Perhaps the coolest aspect of vibranium is its ability to turn the King of Wakanda into “The Black Panther”.  In a sacred ritual, the chosen king ingests a vibranium-laced flower, and emerges from an ancestral dream trip with superior physical strength and coordination.

            By all means, Wakanda has it all, but a controversial political debate threatens to tear the country apart.  This debate revolves around the living conditions of other black people around the world.  In many cases, including in America, blacks are struggling.  Wakanda could do more to help, but would taking action sacrifice the all-important isolationist shroud that has preserved their prosperity?  The film, directed by Ryan Coogler, has entertaining subplots: including one in which T’Challa travels to Busan, South Korea to hunt down a professional arms dealer named Ulysses Klaue (Andy Serkis).  Before embarking on this mission, he visits the Wakandan technology lab, headed by his quip-ready little sister Shuri (Letitia Wright).  The James Bond-like sequence is perhaps the comic high point of the film.

            Without revealing the intricacies of the main plot, it must be noted that Michael B. Jordan plays the villain, an American/Wakandan named Erik “Killmonger”.  As T’Challa learns some disturbing secrets about his family heritage, and struggles to address the question of globalism for Wakanda, Killmonger shows up to offer a clear alternative to the old Wakandan ways.  His character, while certainly hateful and villainous, it not necessarily wrong in his intentions.  An evil individual can be an effective ruler.  That idea is the potent aspect of “Black Panther”.  As T’Challa’s late-father, King T’Chaka (John Kani), tells him, “You are a good man. And it is hard for a good man to be king.”  Indeed, it is a relevant topic in America today. Few Marvel films deal with such lofty ideas.

            However, despite several positives, “Black Panther” feels too much like a typical Marvel movie.  The headlines from the past few weeks have been championing the film as a “masterpiece” and a “game-changer”.  However, that simply isn’t true based on its filmic qualities.  Strip away the contextual details of the film and it boils down to: hero must confront doomsday-esque villain while learning something about himself.  This same storyline can be found in a bunch of Marvel movies, most recently in “Thor: Ragnarok”.  Marvel consistently employs talented directors, but their best qualities never truly shine through.  There is a definitive Marvel branding that tamps down anything really unique. 

            “Logan” was Marvel’s most admirable attempt at breaking from the formula.  It didn't work, but it could in the future.  It would be interesting if Marvel could apply the “10 Cloverfield Lane” approach to one of their subjects.  Say, a movie about the Black Panther that begins frantically in media res, that involves a narrowly scoped mission with more details and directional finesse.  Ryan Coogler would be more than capable of creating such a sequel!  As with “Black Panther”, for some reason it seems Marvel insists upon rigidly structured adventure stories that spend so much time on background that little is left over for true character development. 

            Thus, even though “Black Panther” does not represent a major break from other Marvel flicks; it cannot be denied that it is a uniquely exciting film because of its influence in America and especially the black community.  I have a feeling that playgrounds across the U.S. will be stages for portrayals of King T’Challa for weeks to come.  For the first time, black kids have a mainstream superhero to look up to: one who actually shares their heritage.  That is phenomenal, and worth celebrating!  However, it would be bad criticism to elevate the film simply based on cultural implications.  Great films can be enhanced because of external factors such as an important time period, or social movement, or political cause, etc.  However, those films should also be able to stand on their own, regardless of context. 

            “Black Panther” is a truly solid film, and I would easily recommend it based on entertainment value alone.  I have seen too many Marvel films that were so dull and uninspiring, so suffocatingly average, that I couldn't muster up the enthusiasm to write about them either positively or negatively.  That is the worst kind of movie.  Anchored by a charming cast led by Chadwick Boseman, Lupita Nyong'o, and Danai Gurira, “Black Panther” is better than average.  However, it must expand beyond the Marvel “bumper rails” in order to be a truly great franchise.

"Three Billboards Outside of Ebbing, Missouri" Review

OP-ROB RATING: BUST

            “Three Billboards Outside of Ebbing, Missouri” is a film about grief and hate, and how those two potent emotions can play off each other, often in horrific ways.  As far as the plot is concerned, the main source of strife is the rape and murder of Angela Hayes (Kathryn Newton), whom we are introduced to first as a charred outline on a grass field parallel to a solemn road outside of the fictional town of Ebbing, Missouri.  Naturally her mother, Mildred (Frances McDormand) is determined to catch the killer.  After months of waiting, Mildred has rented three vacant billboards to remind the Ebbing Police Department of the crime that took her daughter’s life, in hopes of re-sparking their attention.  The first billboard, in bold, capitalized black font proclaims the dreadful details, “RAPED WHILE DYING”.  The next two are dedicated to questioning why no one has been caught, and directly calling out the Chief of the Ebbing Police, Bill Willoughby (Woody Harrelson).

                What follows, is a roller coaster story in which many eccentric small-town characters are embroiled.  The most colorful of which is no doubt Mildred, who is portrayed vigorously by Frances McDormand.  Though her grief is unfathomable, Mildred is often an unnecessarily callous woman, with little regard for anything but avenging her daughter’s murder.  Throughout the film she cusses out anyone in her way, and resorts to physical violence on more than one occasion.  However, Mildred is by no means a dumb woman.  Her billboard experiment immediately raises hell in Ebbing, which becomes a battleground between those disgruntled with the police and those faithful to Willoughby.

                Perhaps the most active supporter of Willoughby, and enemy of Mildred, is a viciously racist cop named Dixon (Sam Rockwell).  He goes so far as to beat the billboard-advertising owner within an inch of his life because of what he perceives as slander.  Surprisingly, given Dixon’s demeanor and the post-Ferguson Missouri setting, Willoughby is a calm man with wise perceptions.  He sympathizes with Mildred, while offering sound counsel to Dixon.  In spite of, or perhaps as a result of a terminal cancer diagnosis, Willoughby sees the very best in people.  It is a shame that he is only around for around half of the film because in his absence, the town is thrust into a state of chaos in which each character’s worst qualities on full display.

            “Three Billboards” is directed by Martin McDonagh, whose film “In Bruges” uses a similar template: put a group of colorful characters in a set location, and spark a conflict!  “In Bruges” is masterfully anchored by Brendan Gleeson, who in some ways mirrors Harrelson’s Willoughby.  They are the calm voices in McDonagh’s madhouse.  But “In Bruges” is lengths better than “Three Billboards”, and I think it is because the characters in “In Bruges” act out of static convictions.  Gleeson’s ethos is rivaled by the antagonist, played by Ralph Fiennes.  If you’ve seen the film, you will know that both men, in a way, are correct in their thinking.  “Three Billboards” also has characters with rivaling views, and indeed, each have some kind of logic.  But unlike “In Bruges”, the main characters in “Three Billboards” experience transformations.

            However, “Three Billboards” is wrought with such pandemonium that any meaning is drowned out.  No pure message can survive the consistent graphic violence and ugly language that accompany the story.  Dixon, for example, is so crass and hateful for most of the film, that his transformation into a genuinely caring officer of the law feels phony.  The Dixons of the world simply do not change heart on the turn of a dime.  Puzzlingly, the conclusion to “In Bruges” is essentially a tribute to this very idea. 

            As an audience, we need to believe in a given character’s development.  Some films achieve this very thing, and with similarly difficult themes. One that immediately comes to mind is “Gran Torino”, in which Clint Eastwood portrays a salty old WWII veteran with deeply embedded prejudices.  The film tactfully shows how he overcomes them.  “Three Billboards”, on the other hand, evades the kind of scenes in which characters can really change.  As amusing as Mildred’s midnight Molotov cocktail attack on the Ebbing Police Department might be, it soils the believability of the transformation McDonagh tries to sell at the end of the film.  We are ultimately led to the conclusion that maybe Mildred has taken the first steps toward inner-peace, and maybe Dixon is a calmer, more understanding man.  But I don’t buy it.

            Ultimately, “Three Billboards” is not serious enough to properly deal with its themes.  Perhaps it would be fitting, in the age of Trump, that such a film could win Best Picture.  Perhaps I am missing the point.  Maybe McDonagh is saying, “Look at these stubborn people, and the real grief and prejudice in their hearts. If they can change, then there is hope.”  Maybe I am misinterpreting a truly optimistic film.  However, if that were really the goal of “Three Billboards”, then it could have eschewed much of the unnecessary violence that dominates the story.

"The Disaster Artist" Review

OP-ROB RATING: BENCH

“The Disaster Artist” is a 2017 film directed by, and starring James Franco that is based on the 2013 book of the same name, written by Greg Sestero and Greg Bissell.  The book, and the movie, are about the making of the 2003 film “The Room”.  For those of you who have not seen “The Room”, here is the basic plot:  a responsible, caring, wealthy banker named Johnny (Tommy Wiseau) is engaged to Lisa (Juliette Danielle), a manipulative and mercurial young woman.  Out of reckless disregard for Johnny’s feelings, Lisa seduces his best friend Mark (Greg Sestero), who gives in to her advances immediately.  Over the course of the film, Johnny discovers the affair, and is driven to insanity and ultimately suicide because of the betrayal. Viewed through traditional movie criteria, “The Room” is incredibly, incredibly, bad.  But, in the same way that Jackson Pollock painted in such a way that confounded traditional art consumers, there is something about the film that transcends the normal way in which people judge movies. By all means, “The Room” is a bizarre and wonderful phenomenon whose prominence is owed to its writer, producer, director, and lead actor, Tommy Wiseau.  It is Wiseau, with his strange accent, alien reactions and unusual appearance, that glues the film together.  “The Disaster Artist” focuses on Wiseau, the making of “The Room”, and his relationship with Greg Sestero.

Considered by many to be one of the best-worst movies ever made, “The Room” has achieved cult status and can be viewed at midnight screenings in every major American city.  I have seen “The Room” four times, and once in theaters at the E Street Cinema in Washington, D.C.  What makes “The Room” unique is that fans interact with the film, calling out to characters and chanting in anticipation for certain scenes.  The most riotous of these in-movie rituals occurs whenever the camera pans over a series of framed pictures of spoons that decorate a table in Johnny’s house.  Audience members will yell “SPOONS!” and chuck handfuls of plastic spoons at the screen.  These midnight screenings are truly a sight to behold, and as a frequent moviegoer, I must say that “The Room” is the most packed theater I have been to in years.  The film is alive in such a way that maybe only “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” can truly relate to.

“The Disaster Artist” seeks to give background to “The Room” and begins in the late 1990s, when Wiseau, portrayed by James Franco, first meets Greg Sestero, portrayed by Franco’s brother Dave.  The two attend acting school in San Francisco, where Sestero asks Wiseau to help him become more expressive on stage, something the overly-dramatic Wiseau has no issue with.  Wiseau and Sestero immediately become friends, even they are vastly different in age and demeanor.  Sestero is a young, stereotypical California guy with wavy light brown hair.  Wiseau, in a non-sexual way refers to him as “baby face”.  Wiseau, on the other hand, casts a dark presence, with scraggly long black hair, odd facial dimples, an inexplicable Eastern European accent and a style that consists of baggy pants held up by multiple studded leather belts.  Their only commonality is, as Wiseau says, that they “both have this dream” to become famous stars in Hollywood. 

Though Sestero has reservations about Wiseau’s mysterious origins (his exact age and place of birth are unknown), as well as his seemingly endless supply of money (his source of wealth is unknown), the two become roommates in Los Angeles where Wiseau owns an apartment.  After a lengthy period of pursuing acting gigs ends in failure for them both, a frustrated Sestero jokingly wishes they could make their own movie.  Wiseau responds, mumbling, “a great idea”.  Thus, Wiseau begins writing the script for their movie, which he calls “The Room”.  Wiseau casts himself in the lead role, and gives the second-lead to Sestero.  The rest of “The Disaster Artist” details the making of the movie, which reportedly cost Wiseau around $6 million of his personal money, and was an often chaotic and befuddled process.

The most poignant aspect of “The Disaster Artist” is the relationship between Wiseau and Sestero.  James Franco turns in a phenomenal, uncannily similar performance as Tommy Wiseau.  The stark similarities are put on full display before the end credits, as actual scenes from “The Room” are shown parallel to re-enactments in “The Disaster Artist”.  However, it is Dave Franco’s portrayal of Sestero that allows for the most meaningful scenes between the two friends.  You can see Sestero is often torn between loyalty to his eccentric, possibly delusional friend, and his desire to distance himself from Wiseau to better pursue acting in Hollywood.  Ultimately, both Wiseau and Sestero end up making sacrifices for one another, and these moments are the best in the movie.

However, “The Disaster Artist” fails in two important ways.  For one, it does not shed any light on the ever-mysterious Tommy Wiseau.  After the film, we still do not know where he is from, where he got his money, or what inspired him to make “The Room”.  Secondly, “The Disaster Artist” does not explore what makes the film a cult classic.  There are a lot of very bad movies, but why does “The Room” transcend its badness?  Personally, I think that beneath all the hilarity, “The Room” bears a very true and damning message about human nature and the frailty of idealism.  Johnny is a good man, yet he is destroyed by a cruel world.  Instead of taking on this challenging question, “The Disaster Artist” instead chooses to cater to people who are already familiar with “The Room”. 

If I had entered “The Disaster Artist” oblivious to “The Room” and the mystery behind Wiseau, then the movie would not have had any traction.  Most of the jokes would have gone right over my head.  Any given movie should not need prerequisite viewing to make an impact, it should be able to stand on its own.  Thus, while “The Disaster Artist” will satisfy pre-baptized fans of “The Room”, it fails to mine the deeper questions that could reach a wider audience.