Crazy Rich Asians (D)

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Crazy Rich Asians is a movie with an audacious nose.  Despite its roots as a boilerplate romantic comedy – outsider navigates partner’s family’s idiosyncrasies on the path to true love – this film undoubtedly has set the path for where movies on the big screen are headed.

The outsider and protagonist and principal focus of the movie is an Asian-American NYU economics professor (!), Rachel Chu (Constance Wu), who will accompany her ridiculously gorgeous boyfriend, Nick Young (Henry Golding), to a wedding in Singapore.  She will also meet his family for the first time.  Unbeknownst to Rachel, Nick is the golden child in the family of obscenely wealthy Chinese real estate moguls, though he has been passing himself off as your run-of-the-mill Cambridge-educated New York City financier type.   Ho hum.

So, after a stop in the first-class mile-high club, Rachel lands in Singapore and spends a jovial evening sampling the best that the food court has to offer, which is a lot.  The food scenes in this movie are outrageous.   In the morning, she heads over to see her college roommate, Goh Peik Lin (Awkwafina), who lives with her extravagantly wealthy, but not that wealthy, family in a gated estate.  It is here that Rachel learns that Nick hasn’t been forthright with her about his insane levels of wealth. Indeed, it seems that all of Asia (and, as we have seen, all real Asians) is in on the fortunes and trajectory of Nick Young and the Young family.  Awkwafina is the star of the show, for sure, and the time she, along with her family, are on the screen provides the best comedy the movie has to offer.  Her dad is Ken Jeong!  And, the stop-off at the Lin compound is sort of halfway house between Rachel’s real world and the complete fantasy world of obscene wealth and opulence that we step into on the run-up to the wedding.

Unfortunately, the owners and benefactors of all of this wealth are not beautiful people, but instead are highly territorial and not at all charitable to those outside of their sphere.  First and foremost, although Rachel is an NYU economics professor, an alpha position if there ever was one, her considerable achievements are seen as singularly American in nature, and not something to be either admired or valued by the Young family.   Despite her trappings of an upper income existence by being a highly paid professional in New York City, she is effectively a non-entity in the face of real wealth and privilege.  There are probably some ironies here of the economics professor coming to terms with real wealth that will pop into my head after I post this.  Plus, she’s an American.

Second, there are all sorts of matriarchal machinations going on here that I am sure I haven’t put together.  The movie features Nick’s mother and grandmother as the major power brokers, and I don’t even think Nick’s dad appears on screen (does he?). To put it another way, Ken Jeong is the only face of the male head of household portrayed, and his face looks a lot like a past-his-prime Elvis.  Third, Nick’s possibly wonderful sister has a husband who can’t seem to get his male mojo working as the non-primary breadwinner, although he seems to work out a lot.  And, of course, there is Rachel herself, whose mother took to America as the safety valve out of her own personal cultural entrapments.

On the man side, I don’t think we have a single admirable male character. Nick, I think, is left deliberately undeveloped, because the inevitabilities here (and what the final scene seems to suggest) is that there is just no way out of this particular box of luxury.  His destiny is that of a rich dickhead, a class which most-to-all of his male brethren have established their bona fides in the course of the film. Maybe this is why Dudley Moore’s Arthur spent his life in a bathtub drunk out of his skull? Or why Michael Corleone just gave in and stepped into his father’s shoes?

Well, anyway, there is a lot going on for a formulaic rom com – centuries of culture and history to untangle, after all.

And, yes, we laughed until we cried.

The movie features also some behavioral economics and non-cooperative game theory that I imagine is fleshed out a bit more in the book.  In the opening scene, Rachel wins a poker hand by bluffing as a way to explain the concept of “loss aversion” to her class, a phenomenon that people are harder hit by a loss of $10 than on an equivalent gain of $10.  I just read a piece on female poker players, and it turns out that female poker players don’t win a lot of hands by bluffing alpha males.  This was a minor nagging bother as things marched on, but it wasn’t until finishing up this post that I realized that when Rachel was not bluffing when she eventually went toe-to-toe with the movie’s alpha male, Nick’s mother (playing Mahjong, however, not poker.  Okay, the real showdown wasn’t about Mahjong, but, whatever).  So the movie gets the economics right after all!

I guess there is probably a metaphor about playing poker and counting up gains and losses along the way that would help us to explicate the movie better, but with the sensory overload of food and culture and trappings of wealth it is hard to keep everything straight.

A better title for the movie would probably have been Filthy Rich Asians, because I get the sense that there is nothing particularly crazy about how the wealthy – or any of us – close ranks to protect their own and keep the outsiders out.   Gates are a good start.  Armed guards don’t hurt.  And if that doesn’t work, there is the straight up nastiness.  Most of us don’t get past the gate, so the movie ostensibly puts us in the place of the rest of the world, on the outside looking into a world at this different plane, this alternate reality reserved for what is essentially modern royalty.

So, you can blanch at the naked celebration of wealth inequality, or you can sit back and enjoy the show for what it is.   I recommend the latter, though I must admit that the more I write about it, the less confident I am in that recommendation.

Eighth Grade

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Eighth Grade is a masterpiece. It’s a simple as that. I don’t know what’s in the water that writer director Bo Burnham is drinking but I would like to splash a little on my neck. Actually Burnham is known as a YouTube star though I am unfamiliar with his early work or later TV work. He has a following. And with Eighth Grade, it’s apparent why. While chronicling the life and times of 13 year old Kayla Day (Elise Kate Fisher) you never feel imposed upon. There is never some heavy hammer here. Just like social media itself, like a snake, it slowly envelops its prey and before you know it, you can…not…breathe.

My experience watching Eighth Grade was almost as terrifying as watching A Quiet Place, the awkwardness revealed in the film hits the highest of pitched levels. At times I wanted to cover my eyes. I certainly do not envy kids today or their parents — of which I am one. I think the real triumph of the film is that it can at one hand painfully and accurately represent the struggle of this age and at the same time entertain the audience every step of the way. Having us wonder what on earth will happen next. 

The construct of the paradoxically shy YouTuber is a brilliant intro to Kayla. Meanwhile, her earnest dad (Josh Hamilton) is trying to get through to her, like paddling out against a set of twenty foot waves. And yet you can sympathize with both people. With just wanting to be left alone, with just needing to connect with someone in real life. The social media montages are brilliantly conceived and executed. The audio was screaming as loud as the Tamil language Indian films that get blasted at Marcus Cinema here in Mid-America…we were unsure if this was on purpose but it certainly would make sense if it was. 

I can’t understand why this film is rated R. Kids today eat expletives (Fuck, okay? Fuck.) for breakfast. Frankly, this rating is a form of censorship and I think the MPAA should get off its high horse. The MPAA standards are uneven and need to evolve. Regardless, kids will be watching this film on their iPhones soon enough. I did read that there will be an MPAA approved version that 13 year olds can watch in the theater, which would be great. 

I highly recommend to anyone Eighth Grade. Bring your kids. God forbid it may start an actual conversation.  

BlacKkKlansman

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BlacKkKlansman, a Spike Lee Joint. Spike Lee has had a profound effect on me and was a true inspiration for my getting involved in filmmaking. And even though BlacKkKlasman is not wholly written by Spike Lee it has every element, including sho nuffs, to make the viewer understand this is the work of the great cinematic auteur, Spike Lee. His strength for me is the mixing of theatricality, graphics and traditional narrative conventions. There is also always something kind of off in a Spike Lee joint. The characters are not all developed, but purposefully caricatured. He paints many of his characters with broad strokes. He concentrates on his leads, their lives, their mistakes and passions. Everyone else is just a satellite to these stars.

One thing you notice immediately in a Spike Lee joint is the intense and beautiful score by constant collaborator Terence Blanchard. Terence Blanchard is a musical genius and has scored every Lee film since 1991’s gem Jungle Fever. Also, you will notice the ensemble cast. Lee uses many of the same actors in his films, sometimes I find this distracting but at the same time I think it’s cool and works. Ultimately, Spike Lee puts his style, his stamp, over just about anything else in his films. This might be an effect of his commercial work but it’s there. In Lee you find strange situations like a woman dancing not long after she is attacked by a police officer. Or strange cuts that don’t make sense, like jump cuts that seem to be simply editing errors. But again, it’s a Spike Lee joint. It’s a living organic work. In Hitchcock it’s the over the top exactitude that’s the style. And his films can be said to suffer for that too—however others love it. It’s what makes Hitchcock, Hitchcock. And the same can be said for Lee.

BlacKkKlansman includes strong performances by John David Washington (yes, the son of that Washington) and Adam Driver but the most emotional part of the film is the document at the end which chronicles the assassination of Heather Heyer by a white nationalist Nazi during a peaceful protest in Charlottesville, Virginia on August 12, 2017. It’s not just a social document for its own sake but it ties together brilliantly the naiveté of the protagonist, Ron Stallworth, in this 1970’s period piece and his assumption that America had moved forward and that its race relation problems were in the rear view mirror. As the first black detective in the Colorado Springs PD he explains to a lieutenant in a back hallway at the police station how America would never again elect a racist president.

As a nation, we shouldn’t take films like BlacKkKlansman for granted. I am glad that it was screened here in my little corner of Wisconsin. Maybe the letters I send the movie chain about screening indie films are working? I don’t know but I am grateful I was able to watch this important film on the big screen and I recommend you do too if you have the chance.

Mission: Impossible — Fallout

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Let’s talk about Mission: Impossible— Fallout. You might say that it’s wrong to criticize this film because the storyline does not have an original bone in its body. But I stand by Ebert who wonders why do audiences go see films where they already know what is going to happen? This film is a Euro-Porn Travel Magazine on Steroids. Please quote me. The chase scenes are not anywhere near as interesting or creative as say Atomic Blonde. But hey, if you have never seen a movie where the bomb has a counter on it and it is going to explode and destroy the Earth then yeah, when the house lights come up, you will give this movie a standing ovation. So without belaboring it, it is an absolutely valid criticism always to demand originality and expect creativity. Deadpool 2 did it, and that’s also sequel. Also, just since I am taking the time to write this. The verbal exposition and the use of dialogue to explain events surpasses a student film with less than zero budget. Dear studio suits, nobody cares that Mission: Impossible movies start with long boring explanations that self destruct in 5 seconds. Maybe the explanations should self-destruct 5 seconds before they start. 

Now here is a part of this review you might like if you are still with me. I actually enjoyed this film. I think the part I enjoyed most was the “action camp” I’ll call it. Unlike Deadpool, this film doesn’t have the cojones (balls, people or ovaries. I don’t know how to say ovaries in Spanish, but you get it) to break the fourth wall. But it could so easily break the fourth wall at almost any moment. I mean the use of Scooby-Doo-like masks is enough to make anyone over the age of I don’t know 11 or 12 just laugh out loud. But when you pile one ludicrous set up or element after another, it becomes enjoyable somehow. Who cares — but in a good way. It’s a suspension of disbelief paradigm shift. It’s also interesting that Tom Cruise, who couldn’t help the human injury masquerading as a movie masquerading as a thinly veiled soon to be opened amusement park ride that was The Mummy actually triumphs in Fallout. Triumphs! He shows amazing acting chops, his stunts are equally amazing and not since Forrest Gump or Run Lola Run has anyone run so convincingly in a movie. I think it would have been easy to kill an entire tub of popcorn (you can buy, take home and reuse a tub of popcorn these days, which I think is just as perverse as the ability to now buy bulletproof backpacks for school, but that’s just my sensibility). In short, (sorry Tom, not trying to be glib, I’m only slightly taller than you after all) Tom Cruise holds this film down, and even the most hackneyed, absurd and thread bare plot twists can not touch his veracity and screen presence. Fallout offers action and Fallout delivers. If you like action and Tom Cruise, Fallout won’t disappoint. If you would rather watch grass grow or paint dry for two hours, I would respect that decision as well. 

The Equalizer 2

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                                                                There are two types of pain in this world…

L&D were a little nervous heading into The Equalizer 2, having missed the first installment of the series.  OK, so that’s a joke we have leaned on before, but it was somewhat apt in this case, as it isn’t clear exactly who the Robert McCall (Denzel Washington) character is fashioned after.   It could be a James Bond / Jason Bourne type.  Or maybe a Charles Bronson / Bruce Willis vigilante justice warrior.  After some deliberation, I’ve settled on Jack Ryan, the brains and the brawn.  The film spends almost as much time with McCall studying and sleuthing as he does with him kicking ass and taking names, going out of its way to make McCall a cerebral character.  They even go so far as to show his ability to solve mysteries from a few thousand miles away through some sort of out-of-body, mental transcendence method.  It’s a neat trick.

But although McCall is sort of an amalgam of modern action heroes, what we get here is a movie about tying up loose ends, with McCall himself — ironically, perhaps — being the biggest loose end of all.   There are by my count four main plot lines that don’t quite converge, and getting to the finish mixes a bit of intrigue with a lot of syrupy absurdity to get to tie it all back together.  The main plot line involves McCall getting dragged out of his anonymous life of a Lyft driver and back in with the old gang within the deep state.  The gang includes the brilliant Melissa Leo and the super smoldery Pedro Pascal, both who are blessed with the ability to make you care even when there’s not much there.  We are also treated to a boilerplate father-figure story line focusing on Ashton Sanders.

Amdist the primary action hero drivers, there are some attempts to introduce some non-trivial meditations on social justice — including Denzel providing Sanders with a copy of Between the World and Me, a father-figure moment if there ever was one — but there are no serious attempts to elaborate or explore, so these angles ultimately turn out to be trivial.  If I’m not mistaken, the gang members who are exhorting the Ashton Sanders character to go on a murdering spree are listed as his “buddies” in the credits.   Did I read that correctly?

But all that said, the production values in this are exceptional and enjoyable.  The opening sequence with McCall driving around Boston as a Lyft driver kicked things off in style, and I would have been happy watching that for an hour.   The first hour or so set at least one plot line nicely, and the movie only began to unravel once the bad guy is revealed, culminating with the kill the bad guys in reverse order — from least relevant to most relevant.   Even so, you had to admire the production values as this went on.

A meh from L&D on this one, though we did enjoy cavorting about it afterwards (though we spent more time talking about the Bruce Willis Death Wish movie that about the Equalizer)The summer blockbusters seem to have hit a soft spot, so if you have a coupon or or out and about on bargain Tuesday, this is a good movie to munch some popcorn to.  But I am guessing this will be upstaged by the Thursday release of the latest Mission: Impossible incarnation.   I guess we will have to see.

Sicario: Day of the Soldado

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When we sat down to watch Sicario: Day of the Soldado, audible laughter erupted  from our seats as Josh Brolin reappeared. Josh has starred in 3 of the last 4 films we have seen. Including Avengers: Infinity War and Deadpool 2. In LA it’s often said that at any given time there are two million unemployed actors in the city. So I my next question is — How great is Josh Brolin’s Agent?! Brolin himself has either made a deal with the devil or Creative Artists Agency — or I suspect both. I don’t actually know who his agent is but I know that when I lived in LA and drove by the ominous, sleek and cold, CAA building, which is larger than most embassies, I always got a good case of the heebie-jeebies. Not to mention what I always imagined was the amount of espionage, a la The Conversation, the telephoto lenses and wiretapping devices that were set up across the Avenue of the Stars from CAA at The Hyatt Regency Century Plaza to get the upper hand on the latest deal making. …But hey, sure, it’s all just a product of my overly active imagination. 

Meanwhile back at Marcus Cinema in Appleton, Wisconsin, in my red leather  “DreamLounger” reclining La-Z-Boy in theater 14…the lights seemed awfully bright. For some reason, at the start of Sicario, the house lights never dimmed. D even got up and went out there and told the staff…but nada changed. One thing this did was help me realize how dark this film actually is. I mean literally dark. Many scenes have crushed blacks that under these circumstances where wiped out. I’m sure cinematographer Dariusz Wolski’s head would have exploded had he been in attendance. The other thing this lighting snafu brought to my attention is what a tightly wound story Sicario is…well at least until the end, where it goes off the rails, jumps the shark, what have you. But there was no way I was going to get up and complain about the lights and miss any of this. I figured D had taken one for the team already, after all. 

A kudos goes to writer Taylor Sheridan, who also wrote one of my 2016 favorites Hell or High Water. Sicario strongly develops the secondary, or supporting characters. It helps make the drama a lot more meaningful when you know where a character is coming from, metaphorically. 

On the other hand, there is a place where this story logically ends. But then it begins again. Personally, I have a pet peeve regarding epilogues. It shows a lack of confidence in the audience and a certain amount of uncertainty in the artist. An appeasement at best, a setting up of the next film, akin to a commercial, at worst. I’m sure there are plenty of valid financial or political or possibly even creative reasons for epilogues but they always fall flat for me. Most of the time I have to have someone else explain the endings of movies to me — and that’s fine with me.  

One other thing, from someone who has worked on several films in Mexico and heard complaints about this. A border story is like the low lying fruit on the creative tree in terms of storytelling regarding Mexico. Yes, in its obvious, tangible way, it has a built in drama that people can easily relate to on a dramatic level. And well told, a border story like Sicario, can be extremely effective. But there are plenty of other great films coming out of Mexico all the time. Instant classics like Amores Perros and really great more recent films like Güeros.  

Let’s for a moment talk about the insane coolness of Benicio del Toro. This guy has the charisma and presence of a modern day John Wayne. I was sitting in a cafe on Vermont Avenue in Los Feliz one night when he shows up at the door. The only sound you could hear was the wait staff falling over one another to get to the guy. It. Was. Eerie. I just wonder what makes someone like that think he can just get a grilled cheese at 11:45 on a Tuesday night and not throw the equilibrium of the entire universe totally off. But even more than that, he needs Brolin’s agent. 

Uncle Drew

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The TBI was off the charts for this film, stretching way past the point where you order your chalupa, at least 15 cars deep. That should have been my first clue that Uncle Drew would surpass my admittedly low expectations. I have been burned many times by films that rely on a star athlete to try and carry a feature. As a basketball film with an African-American cast, wouldn’t Uncle Drew rely on the same disappointing jokes and stereotypes that we have all suffered through a thousand times? And yet, it didn’t. The theme of the film is somewhere between family is right in front of you if you can see it / ego can destroy the greatest talent / you miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take. 

Is Uncle Drew formulaic? Yes. It is about as formulaic as you can get and yet it’s such an enjoyable ride, you don’t really mind. From an aesthetic point of view, it’s beautifully shot. RED digital cameras have truly come into their own. There was a great mix of glamorous photography along with arching action shots. In terms of the make up, I think the film should be nominated for an Academy Award for prosthetics. It was fantastic to see folks you recognize look straight up geriatric. At the same time, it’s sort of believable that someone who is dedicated to something like say playing the drums, riding a bike or playing basketball could excel at it after not playing for decades. More than muscle memory, the film makes a case for love of the game. 

The acting in the film also raised it above what I expected going in and made it greater than the sum of its parts.  You could see the actors were in tune with their characters. Even in the bloopers, where thankfully the only mom joke in the entire film can be found, the main character, Dax, strongly played by Lil Rel Howery, says he wouldn’t know, he is an orphan. It goes to show how deep the actors prepared and how the characters had many dimensions and motivations to guide their performances.  

As a basketball playing fanatic for many years I appreciated the film on another level as well. Sure, looking back on schoolyard hoops there are the great moments, the bad moments and the moments you tell your therapist about but the point is, as Uncle Drew points out, you don’t stop playing because you get old, you get old because you stop playing. I’m glad these geezers got together to once again throw down the rock.

Book Club

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Okay, this movie was really funny. You could hear people laughing all the way up in the rafters of our local Marcus Cinema (for those not in the US Midwest, it’s a nice movie chain with reclining seats at the location L & D frequent — which is one of the reasons we frequent it.) While driving to this film I had a sort of similar feeling as I had before going into Blockers. Is this movie for me? For the L & D? I suggested to D that maybe he should be taking his wife to this. But I have to say, I was way off base. Book Club is actually a great buddy movie. And in attending new release films as much as we have I’ve learned that the great strength in movies is exposing people to other people, places and things they might not have any idea about…and realize how much they are similar and even how much they might like those odd people, places and things. I’ve realized that every movie is for everyone. You may not like it, you may even end up walking out but that movie was made for you to enjoy. (Except Mother!, if you enjoyed that you would enjoy an extended weekend in Palm Springs in June locked in a room with Rex Reed while he was forced, Clockwork Orange style, to watch a marathon session of Melissa McCarthy and Jodie Foster movies.) But yes, for most of the rest of us the real beauty of Cinema is being able to viscerally experience these foreign yet familiar dimensions, places, spaces and human emotions. It’s not something to be ashamed of but rather celebrated!

One thing about Book Club that immediately gets your attention is how easy on the eyes Jane Fonda is. At age 80, she has the sex appeal of a person half her age — let’s face it, even younger. I wanted to run home and try to dig up her Jane Fonda Workout VHS tapes from the 1980s. It’s here I will admit to wearing leg warmers during the winter of 1982… as a fashion statement. I know it doesn’t make it right, but all the kids were doing it. Though perhaps Jane Fonda is best known to youngsters for her bombshell role in the cult classic Barbarella, I had recently watched her 1978 masterpiece Coming Home, for which she won the best actress Oscar. And deservedly so. Her acting range was impeccable. There was even a steamy sex scene which I think fit right into the zeitgeist of the times— the post-Vietnam War reckoning and the cocaine fueled to hell with it attitude of the free love disco generation.  In other words, Jane Fonda carried Book Club with her pinky. 

The rest of the cast was also fantastic, with Mary Steenburgen, Candice Bergen, Diane Keaton reprising Annie Hall, Craig T. Nelson, Don Johnson and Richard Dreyfuss. I would give a special nod to Andy Garcia, whose character Mitchell was an understated and graceful study who was totally believable and likable. Also of note, the entire storyline of Steenburgen slipping Craig T. Nelson a couple of Viagara while out on a date…this is a riot and played particularly well. 

So there is a lot of excellent going on with Book Club. Of course, like A Quiet Place, it’s not realistic (No, I will not let that go.) in that it’s unlikely that these ladies of a certain age would be hooking up with dudes of a certain age 10 years younger. And in this, the film plays more like an adaptation of a romance novel. But honestly, who cares, we are at Book Club to be entertained and entertained we are. We can see how truly amazing Jane Fonda is, so anything else can also be believed. Why not? Why not keep looking for love, falling in love and most importantly believing you deserve happiness, your entire life. It’s a great message to remember and try to live out. 

Solo

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We were heading to the theater with reasonably modest expectations when were shocked to see at least a dozen cars in the drive-through line at the Taco Bell.  L&D readers probably know that we use the Taco Bell Index (TBI) to predict the quality of the movie we are about to see, and there was clearly a large number of people in east Appleton Jonesing for a chalupa prior to Solo.  What could this possibly mean?

Even with the high TBI, it was hard to get too excited for this one after the high of Deadpool 2 last week, and L&D entered a mostly full theater not knowing quite what to expect.

What we got was a very solid three-star type movie, with a reasonable story line, some good characters, a few deviations from the standard love-story fare, and special effects like you would not believe.    This “Star Wars story” is the origin story for Han Solo, of course, and so it touches base on how he springs Chewie (Chewie) from the clink, meets Lando (Donald Glover), and comes to own the Millennium Falcon. (Perhaps shockingly, they passed over the origin story for the iconic scar on the chin.)   Also included is Emelia Clarke as Han’s possible love interest and Woody Harrelson as his mentor of sorts.   Both are pretty convincing and are not given the wooden scripts we suffered through in some of the past episdodes.

This is a Star Wars movie, so we get Star Wars scenes: a couple of bar scenes with wacky characters and gambling, a pod-race type thing in the “great train robbery” scene, and undertones of various vanilla political statements, the standard recipe.   The story was pretty solid and the pacing done well enough to keep me awake (a higher bar than you’d probably think).   Also on the plus side, Woody is pretty good and Chewie is great.  And, I have to say that the movie did not wind down in the way I expected at all, which was great.  Indeed, at one point I spontaneously raised my arms in triumph in response to a plot twist that I didn’t see coming.  I was reminded of seeing Frozen because it sets up as formulaic, but then that isn’t quite where it goes.  So there are some very fresh aspects to the movie that I really liked.   Even the really objectionably stupid plot elements (e.g., the big monster with the gravity bong thing) were mostly used to set up the extraordinary special effects that set L’s head a spinning.

But, the big question is review land seems to be why did this movie need to be made?  Is it essential?   That seems rather pedantic given it’s Disney advancing its general Disney interests.  From our perspective, we got a pretty good story, some fun characters, spectacular special effects, and a giant bucket of popcorn.  And the crowd was pretty upbeat on the way out of the theater, even if the Taco Bell line was down to just one car by the time we passed on our way home.

Deadpool 2

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I’ve discovered that the worst thing you can do is have high expectations going into a film. But I just couldn’t help it. And I am glad I did. Like the original, this segment of the Deadpool series was outlandish, intense, funny and zany. So if you enjoyed Deadpool, this installment won’t let you down. 

Before I get into the review I want to point out that a stunt person died in a motorcycle crash making the film. In our day and age, this should under no circumstances ever happen. It’s just a movie, people. The film was dedicated to the stunt person, S.J. Harris. I hope that producers, directors and everyone who is involved in filmmaking takes safety precautions on-set seriously. Yes, sometimes there are risks in getting shots, but they shouldn’t be life threatening. 

Also of note, The L & D Report was honored by the presence of a special guest, the filmmaker, author, musician, artist and storyteller, Frank Anderson. We had recently attended a screening of his fantastic film, “The Life of Reilly” about Charles Nelson Reilly.  It was great getting Frank’s angle and insight and just hanging out at the popcorn stand with him. 

I read a good article about movies last week in the New York Times, “Dystopia, Apocalypse, Culture War: 2018 or 1968?  The article posits that in 1968 the status quo in society seemed to be upended and films of the times like Planet of the Apes and 2001: A Space Odyssey, reflected that. So what does Deadpool 2 say about us as a society? I will just mention the existential aspect of the film. Like in Life of Pi, we love to tell ourselves stories about the afterlife. And if there isn’t one? Well that’s not very cinematic, is it? It’s always interesting to experience what creative filmmakers think the afterlife will be like and that holds true here. The story itself is deft at shifting emotional gears. From being self-reflexive, self-deprecating and hilariously absurd to hitting you with the deepest feelings of wonder about life, Deadpool 2 never misses a zinger or an emotional beat. 

As opposed to the depressed feeling around us after the ending of Avengers: Infinity War, the crowd at the end of Deadpool 2 was pumped up and almost riotous. If there had been an announcement that Deadpool 3 would begin immediately, the entire audience would have just rolled with it. Deadpool 2 is already a cult classic and with reason, this may be the only feature that can seamlessly thread references to Taylor Swift’s cats and scissoring.