Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018): Quips from Multiple Dimensions

Sony may have teamed up with Marvel for live-action Spider-Man after the failure of its The Amazing Spider-Man reboot series, but they have also made a new animated film on their own, with some assistance from Phil Lord and Chris Miller (The Lego Movie). Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse tells the story of how Miles Morales (Shameik Moore; Dope), a teenager and Spider-Man fan, gets superpowers and takes over for Peter Parker as Spider-Man and how he faces his first major dilemma. Kingpin has created a particle accelerator to contact alternate universes that leads to other Spider-People entering Miles’ world. He has to get them back to their original homes and shut down Kingpin’s machine before it destabilizes and destroys all of New York.

The film’s art design is perfect for the material. Sony Pictures Animation has used a 3D look that, at a glance, appears almost 2D. It strikes a perfect balance between the flat look of comic book images and the additional depth that modern audiences are used to in animated features. The colors are bright and special attention is paid to shadows that add life to the characters. The style also augments Spider-Man’s signature method of transport: his web swinging. The smooth animation captures the fast and kinetic arcs of each swing much better than any of the live action adaptations. The slightly cartoonish art also allows the film to lean into its comic book origins. Characters can use or even expand upon their often exaggerated designs, like Kingpin’s massive size, without feeling out of place as they would if the film wasn’t animated.

The film’s art style is a perfect match for Spider-Man’s swinging.

As expected from the influence of Lord and Miller, the writing employs the quick-witted humor of their previous works. The film is self-aware and often winks at the audience or references other properties including other Spider-Man media. Unlike in The Lego Movie, the script here builds on these references rather than just calling them out. In particular, co-writers Lord and co-director Rodney Rothman use the multiverse conceit to play with audience expectations. They are fully aware that the Spider-Man story has penetrated general pop culture knowledge and, instead of rehashing origins for Peter Parker, they pull from obscure and hilariously strange comic runs or subvert existing knowledge of the main villains for some great character reveals. These choices along with the focus on the lesser-known Miles Morales as the hero make the film’s story fresh and mostly free from Spider-Man fatigue.

The downside to the writing style is that the overall narrative lacks substance. Each character is well written with depth behind their actions, but the larger “save the world” plot is forgettable and interchangeable with dozens of other superhero films. There is a subplot involving Miles’ family and his father’s role as a police officer, but the emotional stakes to the potential doomsday are missing. The climactic action scenes are colorful, fun fights but lack the peril needed to produce any level of tension. The action and comedic dialogue zip by in agreeable fashion, but without palpable consequences Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse is only light entertainment.

3/5 stars.

Anna and the Apocalypse (2018): Music, Teenagers, and Zombies – It’s That Time of Year!

In a small English town, Anna (Ella Hunt; The More You Ignore Me) is a high school senior with her eyes set on forging her own path once school is over. As her father drops off her and her best friend John (Malcolm Cumming), they accidentally reveal that she is planning to travel the world instead of going to college after graduating which leads to a huge argument. At school, her classmates are preparing for the annual Christmas pageant that she intends to miss so she can pick up an extra shift at the bowling alley and pay for her upcoming trip. Oh, and there’s also a virus outbreak spreading that turns everyone into zombies. That’s important too.

The overall production can feel a bit amateur. There are a few larger scenes with surprisingly elaborate special effects but the majority of the film is limited to small sets that make the apocalypse feel confined and localized to the few buildings shown rather than a widespread issue. The acting also shows a lack of experience. The performances aren’t terrible but the overeager delivery combined with an often cheesy script can make the characters seem like dweebs. Eventually the earnestness of the dialogue wears down the initial annoyance. This is best exemplified in a scene where two boys argue about which of their favorite celebrities are still alive during the outbreak. When the dialogue is at its most inconsequential, and not in service of moving the plot forward, the characters feel natural and the social awkwardness becomes endearing in spite of the spotty acting.

The few flash mob style dance numbers are energetic and fun.

Director John McPhail and screenwriters Alan McDonald and Ryan McHenry capture the tedium of high school. Several films have characters that are tired of their mundane small town life, but these filmmakers focus on the dopiness of Anna’s high school experience. At the Christmas pageant, two students wearing penguin costumes sing an original, pun-laden song called “The Fish Wrap” while dancing, or rather attempting to dance, hip hop. This is easily the best/worst song of the year, even better/worse than “Why Did You Do That?” from A Star is Born, and the hilarious track shows how unaware the rest of her school is of their own ridiculousness.

The music as a whole is more catchy than it has any right to be. Early tunes like “Breakaway” and “Hollywood Ending” are not only great songs, but are also relevant to the Anna’s motivation to leave her town and, unlike many recent musicals, all of the cast can actually sing. The music is also often a source of humor with puns, innuendos, and a great use of contrast between singing and the apocalyptic surrounding events. However, the tracks are not uniformly at this quality level and the strongest songs all play in the first third which leaves the film’s later music paling in comparison. Many of these songs also have accompanying dance numbers. At best these can be entertaining and at worst they are borderline High School Musical quality, but the effort is appreciated. Anna and the Apocalypse isn’t without its flaws, but the often catchy music and endearingly awkward characters balance out the lack of production polish.

3/5 stars.

Green Book (2018): Class, Race, and Unexpected Depth

Green Book is a film that immediately raises some red flags. Being released late in the year with a well-worn setup, respected actors, and a positive message about race relations, it, on paper, reeks of Oscar bait. While some of those initial assumptions are not entirely false, the film expands beyond blatant awards pandering. The story could be viewed as a new Driving Miss Daisy with the races swapped, but it has more on its mind to say. Viggo Mortenson (A History of Violence), proving again that he is one of the few actors able to completely lose himself in his roles, plays Tony Lip, a New Yorker who gets a short-term job acting as post a driver and bodyguard for Doc (Mahershala Ali; Moonlight), a pianist, on a concert tour through the Deep South.

As characters, Tony and Doc fall into several stereotypes. Tony is a blue-collar Italian everyman. He works as a bouncer at nightclub, eats spaghetti and meatballs, and feels like he just walked off the set of Goodfellas. Doc is an ultra-posh artist with a doctorate that lives in an expensive penthouse and interviews drivers while sitting on a literal throne. Together they create the required odd couple whose relationship begins as purely professional before gradually developing into a mutual friendship as they drive further into the South and face more racism.

The early impressions quickly give way to Tony and Doc’s deeper emotions. Doc’s mannerisms are, at first, annoyingly haughty. He enunciates his language to a degree that makes him sound pompous and even hold his head titled slightly upwards as if he is too dignified for everyday people and the behavior bothers Tony until Doc’s motivations are revealed. The fact is that no matter how talented, successful, or educated Doc may be, to many of the people he meets in his travels, he is defined by his race and the racist stereotypes they believe in. This crucially recontextualizes his behavior as a defense mechanism, not a sign of arrogance.

Despite the serious subject matter, there is still plenty of humor when Doc and Tony spend time together.

Tony’s realization of the difficulties Doc regularly faces are expected, but the film also sheds light on some of Doc’s unique struggles. Upwards mobility is a core feature of a fair society, but Doc has to suffer the related consequences. His education and success as an artist affords him a luxurious lifestyle, but at the expense of emotional belonging. He spends his nights drinking an entire bottle of hard liquor alone in his hotel room because he no longer fits in with society’s expectations. He is, as he puts it, too white to be black and too black to be white which leaves him in a friendless state. This is an unfortunate result of social climbing that is rarely discussed in media and the film deserves praise for touching on this subject.

The biggest surprise is that the film is directed and co-written by Peter Farrelly. He and his brother Bobby are best known for creating comedies like Dumb and Dumber and There’s Something About Mary which makes Green Book a radical departure. In his first solo outing as director, Farrelly shows the restraint necessary to paint the story with a finer than expected brush. The theme of overcoming societal differences and initial prejudices is predictable, but the performances from Ali and Mortenson and the unexpected depth make Green Book an effective odd couple road trip with a commendable message.

4/5 stars.

The Favourite (2018): Scheming for Favo(u)r

In the early 1700s, while Britain is at war with France, Queen Anne (Olivia Colman; Tyrannosaur) has health issues and only a passive interest in actually ruling the nation. Her close companion and advisor Sarah (Rachel Weisz; The Lobster) manages her affairs until their relationship is interrupted by Sarah’s cousin Abigail (Emma Stone; La La Land) who, while acting as Sarah’s attendant, gains favor and influence with the Queen. Alongside their personal rivalry is a larger political struggle over the direction of the current war with party leaders trying to use Abigail and Sarah’s positions to advance their own causes.

Director Yorgos Lanthimos (The Lobster) nails the look of the film. Shot on location in large estates or palaces in England, the high ceilings and lavish interiors make the Queen’s existence feel both opulent and oppressive. The director again uses wide, almost fisheye, lenses that slightly distort the environment and, doing the inverse of The Killing of a Sacred Deer, place the camera at low heights, emphasizing how small even royalty feel in the cavernous setting. It isn’t pure extravagance though. Lanthimos never lets the audience forget the grimy living that supports the upper class with Abigail’s story. She falls into mud, scrubs floors, and sleeps in the uncomfortably crowded servant’s quarters. Her initial situation is unsavory to say the least, but is also casually dismissed by Sarah while she simultaneously reprimands everyone for the slightest error in the Queen’s care. The extensive period detail creates an unmistakable class divide and fuel for Abigail’s ambitions.

The cinematography makes the royal estate an imposing setting.

It is a joy to watch Abigail and Sarah plot against each other. Both prove themselves to be master manipulators of the Queen and know how to manage the competing political parties. Sarah starts the film with near complete control of the Queen, telling her what she can and cannot do and often speaking in her place for important political meetings, yet Abigail is able to pry open an opportunity to reach the Queen. While Sarah acts as an almost matriarchal authoritarian, Abigail takes a softer, kind approach to win the Queen’s affections. Stone and Weisz masterfully convey the intellect and determination needed to continually surprise and outmaneuver each other. The moments where they spend time together with the Queen can lead to hilarious expressions when the women are forced to act cordial despite their thinly veiled contempt.

The director’s trademark delivery and style are still present but don’t meld as well with the writing. Characters speak in Lanthimos’ ultra-deadpan, unemotional delivery that continues to distinguish his works from any other filmmaker. The manner of speech often results in unexpected humor when characters read what should be impassioned speech with cold distance, but the dialogue seems less suited to this approach that his prior releases. The Favourite is the first film Lanthimos has directed that wasn’t written by him and his co-writer Efthymis Filippou and this may be why his vision feels less effective. There are fewer lines that take advantage of this diction which reduces the frequency of laughs. The chess-like scheming is exciting to watch unfold, but the script doesn’t take full advantage of Lanthimos’ signature acting style resulting less humor than desired

3/5 stars.

If Beale Street Could Talk (2018): Moody but Disjointed

Following up a Best Picture winner is never easy, but Barry Jenkins (Moonlight) makes an admirable effort with his latest film. If Beale Street Could Talk, based on the novel of the same name by James Baldwin, follows a young couple and the difficult situation they find themselves in. Tish (KiKi Layne) and Fonny (Stephan James; Race) have known each other since they were kids. Tish works selling perfume at a department store and Fonny works a day job while sculpting wood at night. As young adults, the two fall in love and make plans to start a future together until Fonny is imprisoned for rape after which Tish realizes she is pregnant.

Visually, Jenkins makes some major strides. Moonlight was heavily influenced by the cinematography, lighting, and pace of Wong Kar-Wai (In the Mood for Love) but Jenkins steps firmly into his own style here. He still continues with the emphasis on mood and textures onscreen, but has additional flourishes. He uses overhead cameras, circling movements with heavy use of contrasting shadows, and uncommon framings. Several scenes have the character’s head centered in the frame directly facing the camera similar to a headshot. This is a composition typically rejected by filmmakers as it breaks the idea that the audience is a fly on the wall observing the plot. Jenkins instead uses it to emphasize intimacy. He reserves these scenes for dialogue that plays like personal confessions between lovers and the effect is penetrating. He places the viewer in the middle of the heated emotions, literally.

The emphasis on mood is the film’s greatest strength. Characters speak in hushed tones often through sad, aching faces and it gives scenes a disarming sincerity. This is especially true of the romance between Tish and Fonny. The tone captures the comfort and safety their bond offers and makes their struggle empathetic. Despite the potentially insurmountable odds and issues of discrimination, the film doesn’t fall into pure gloom. Fonny’s family looks to their love as a guiding force through their hardships and the use of hope rooted in love overcoming adversity tinged with the melancholy of reality strikes a subtle balance.

The tender chemistry between Tish and Fonny gives the film a strong emotional core.

Yet, this subtle approach is undermined by some blunt messaging. It is revealed immediately that Fonny’s incarceration is a result of racial prejudice by the arresting police officer and systemic injustice in the criminal system. As a representation of a greater plight of so many, Tish and Fonny’s story would have been deeply affecting, but when Jenkins explicitly points out, through onscreen text, that the story represents the experience of many others, he cripples the intimacy of the story. It, along some with similarly overt dialogue, makes the film feel colder and didactic when it could have been personal and impactful on a visceral level.

The impact is also lessened by the story structure. The film makes heavy use of flashbacks and constantly cuts back to scenes of Tish and Fonny’s burgeoning relationship. The scenes themselves are fine but the editing style breaks up the flow of the film. It makes it difficult to become invested in events happening in the present when the needed background is being filled in ad hoc instead of being presented early and gradually built upon. While the visuals and general mood of the film are strong, If Beale Street Could Talk’s disjointed editing and unnecessarily blunt messaging prevent it from reaching its otherwise high potential.

3/5 stars.

Everybody Knows (2018): Farhadi Without the Moral Ambiguity

Somehow switching from language to language, despite not being fluent, Asghar Farhadi (A Separation) has made his second non-Iranian and first Spanish feature. The film boasts a powerhouse cast with Penélope Cruz (Volver) as Laura, a Spanish native visiting from Argentina with her daughter for her sister’s wedding, Javier Bardem (No Country for Old Men) as Paco, a family friend who she has a complicated history with, and Ricardo Darin (The Secret in Their Eyes) as Laura’s husband Alejandro. The film begins with a wedding celebration that is interrupted when Laura and Alejandro’s daughter goes missing.

The depth of the family connections are immediate. In a flurry of hugs and kisses, we see siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, and family friends warmly embracing each other in the sunny Spanish countryside. With little exposition, the mutual affection is established and the picturesque setting and upcoming wedding celebration are almost enough to make you forget that this is an Asghar Farhadi film and that something is about to go wrong. Yet, the seeds of future arguments are hinted at early on. Farhadi’s favorite theme of class divide is made apparent as certain characters talk about their financial difficulties in contrast to the relative success of others and more complicated histories appear to exist beneath the exterior of the welcoming smiles.

The happiness of the initial reunion is skilled misdirection for the events that follow.

The kidnapping leads to long buried secrets being revealed. Since the crime happens during a family gathering, the potential suspects are all loved ones. Past relationships, both personal and professional, resurface to complicate matters and the visible strain the search for the culprit puts on the family bonds is effective. Laura is torn between her love for her family and facing the reality that one of them may be using her daughter, their relative, to extort money from her. Each person she would normally turn to for help is a potential suspect and the mystery creates suspense until the true culprit is finally revealed.

Plot-wise, the film is closest to About Elly, but it falls short of that high benchmark. Both stories follow a young woman who goes missing during an otherwise carefree event, but as Farhadi’s signature plot intricacies reveal themselves, there are a few crucial differences. In the best of Farhadi’s works (About Elly, A Separation, and The Past), he takes a familiar situation and injects a conflict with seemingly endless perspectives where each character’s actions are flawed, but their motivations and thought processes are understandable. In Everybody Knows, the conflict is decidedly less complicated. The relationships are still layered and interesting, but the central event is an actual crime – meaning there are clear villains. These characters may have depth to their motivations, but their extreme actions are never forgivable. In previous films, Farhadi would design his plots so that the central conflict and the ensuing consequences were unfortunate outcomes of humanly flawed thinking that put the viewer in a state of nail-biting moral confusion. There was no one to root for when everyone made mistakes. In structuring his newest film as a whodunit, Farhadi has removed the moral ambiguity and weakened the previously gut-wrenching effect of his trademark multilayered relationships and plot reveals.

3/5 stars.