like a dream behind her eyes.
— James Joyce, writing to Nora
like a dream behind her eyes.
— James Joyce, writing to Nora
Masters of the Universe (2026) — 1.5/5
Man, something strange is happening in the world of movies and ^I think I've figured it out.^ First, my memories of He-Man are largely in my family telling me that I loved it, meaning it had done enough to mean something, but not enough to linger. And the trailer looked fun* and a couple people said it was fun and I am telling you all of this so that I can convince you that I went in with the best of intentions. I did not harbor thoughts of what this movie should be, I did not pay $40 for a good time out though secretly desire a reason to thrash and flail. I was only confronted by what it is. And, like 'Project Hail Mary', within five minutes I was assaulted by a tone that I could not overcome. I think there's a section of the internet that refers to this as 'Marvel-ization' of tone, but I don't think that's it at all. I think we're in a new era of tone, which I will call Barbie-ficiation. Marvel's tone I attribute to 'Cheers,' and I attribute it to 'Cheers' because Amy Poehler said if you want to learn how to write sitcoms, watch 'Cheers' and so I watched the first season of 'Cheers', and the secret to 'Cheers' was 'say something serious, and then undercut it with a joke.' (And I'm sure what existed in 'Cheers' existed before then, but that's as far as I can take it.) I think Marvel does that well, and whether that tone simply shaped my upbringing and understanding of humor within storytelling (it premiered in '82 and I was born in '83!), I cannot say, but I think 'Barbie' starts to do something differently. Marvel, at its best, are serious movies with comedy. Barbie is a comedy, with a serious, large, deeply philosophical underpinning. Marvel cuts the tension with a joke. Barbie cuts the comedy with tension. (I can't trace the origins of that, but if I had to guess, I'd wager it's a characteristic shared with the 2010s era of Nickelodeon and Cartoon Network animated shows, which I also saw in 'Nimona', which preceded Barbie to a premiere by one month.) We're dancing, we're having a good time, and "do you guys ever think about dying?" (Trace that to 'Project Hail Mary' and "I put the 'not' in 'astronaut'" while people look at him gravely. Ryan Gosling's playing a deeply unserious character constantly being given reason to take it seriously. He's a comedian in a sober world.) This movie feels cut of similar cloth. Nicholas Galitzine plays a buff buffoon in a world where his mom and dad have been kidnapped and likely tortured, and an evil skeleton has turned his world into a hellscape. With those tangible plot details, it's more of a comedy than I would have expected! With underpinnings of a larger, deeper philosophical point to be made about power and who wields it. Gerwig did not make a perfect movie, but she largely pulled off an ambitious attempt, but her ultimate success was that she unleashed something new into the world. She said of 'Barbie' — “I’m doing the thing and subverting the thing," which is essentially the same here. It's taking the world seriously, while also saying the world is silly, and what comes out of that is comedy comedy comedy violent murder of innocents comedy comedy comedy deep thought comedy comedy comedy violent murder of enemies comedy comedy comedy very adult humor that parents will need to explain to their children** comedy comedy comedy. It's "the thing," and an acknowledgement that the thing is also being watched by a people who have a relationship with another version of the thing. I think the new version of the "four quadrant film" is essentially this precipice where "we must engage new audiences without alienating old audiences." And brother, that precipice is built on fear and it kind of sucks. This movie kind of sucks.
Then again, I can see the parts of the movie that succeed — well, it's just one thing: Skeletor. (Moviemakers, fiends, you've driven me to tell my audience that the best part of a movie is Jared Leto.) He is both evil and funny. He's not the thing but also the other thing; he is both simultaneously, and that's a tonality that 'Barbie' was largely able to hold onto (the credit of which I think belongs to Margot Robbie who, through good acting, gravitas, is able to keep the movie centered). He-Man, in contrast, looks the part, but has no central core to him. He is either Adam, a man capable of nothing, or He-Man, the man who can do anything. They are not the same, and I can see an intent of this movie in them becoming one, but that doesn't happen. He is just the thing but also subverting the thing, within a dualistic character.
To that, it is entirely possible that my theorizing here is just a response to a lack of artistry (or my preferred artistry). It's okay for me to not like a movie that others like, I repeat into the mirror. But there's something about this, and "Project Hail Mary," and (to a lesser extent) "Barbie," where I almost feel bad for not liking it as much as I'm supposed to which makes me want to understand why. (These reviews say as much about me as the movie, wow, what a surprise.) I'm thrashing and flailing to put my finger on something intangible. And listen, if you know anything about me, you know I love to discuss philosophical ideas, intercut with jokes, so I would love for this to work out. But I think 'Barbie', for me, and like 'John Wick'***, becomes this miracle of tonality which feels easy to replicate, but incredibly difficult to pull off. But it's a new idea and I expect to see a lot more of it coming around the bend.
*Watching the trailer again in preparation for this review, I think it largely does not come across as a comedy. It comes across as a fun world that takes itself seriously, with moments of humor, but with a sincerity running through it, but the movie itself feels like a reverse of that tonality.
**Another mark for my conservative streak. Did he need to say 'asses' so many times when 'butt' would have been just as funny? Does he need to say 'goddamn'? Does he need to make jokes about fisting and giving head? I don't even fucking have children and my response to those things is 'sorry for the conversation on the ride home' and also 'it's lazy messageboard humor' and, sir, I was a lazy messageboard humorist, and there's nothing that I hate more than my own kind.
***...and shit maybe even 'Speed' before it? And 'The Matrix' after that? And 'Die Hard' before both? I think any movie that becomes shorthand for an executive to say '...make it more like [x]' showcases that people can sense there's a new idea here, but they can't quite figure out what it is, so they grasp at the easy descriptors, forming something similar and worse. But, you know, one, artistry, and the ability to actually pull this off and, two, no, it's just the one actually.
and I wasn't good at listening.
— Modest Mouse, Third Side of the Moon
Project Hail Mary — 2.5/5
The Martian — 4.5/5
I rewatched 'The Martian' last year — a banger of a movie. Holds up on repeat. I never got around to writing down my thoughts, but I had some! And then here comes this movie to create a parallel. So let's try to work this out.
I think 'The Martian,' more than just being a great adventure movie, well-told, is probably the most emblematic movie of its particular point in time. It's the height of Obamacore, 'The Audacity of Hope,' Reddit-era politics, Buzzfeed-ification of information, and "science wins" signs peppering lawns in the years before the big science-based kerfuffle which confused half of America. It is our Most Millennial Movie. It is almost, perpetually, corny. Hope is corny! Optimism is a little lame. "We are going to science the shit out of this" is said by either the coolest — or most trying — science teacher you've ever met. Fortunately, tonally, the movie always falls on the left side of that binary. And I think it's because, like a great teacher, the movie's primary goal feels like education (and just hiding it within entertainment). The movie shows the science. You feel like you're with people who are figuring it out in real time, and they're bringing you along with them. They explain it as they go. Not that you can now, like, go to Mars and grow potatoes, but you generally understand you can grow potatoes on Mars, and have a general understanding of everything that goes into it, and why they're doing what they're doing. They focus on the what and the why, and there's less interest in the who who does it. Not that Matt Damon's character is a non-entity, it's just he has no larger personality-based story being told within this. He isn't filled with tragic backstory and is now being faced with an extraordinary opportunity to answer something inside him. He's just a smart, generally amiable, occasionally funny guy in a bad situation who only has the hope of science to get him through it. You grow to care about him and in order for the movie to work, you have to care about his survival — but he's not the story. The science is the story.
On the other side of that — I love Lord and Miller. I love Ryan Gosling. I loved Andy Weir's last movie (see above). I went in preparing to love this and, five minutes in, could not get over whatever fucking tone was happening here: a tone I can only describe as millennial cringe. I could not, for the life of me, overcome this first hurdle and so, a movie that on face value isn't bad, becomes difficult for me to watch. "Soooo I met an alien" is the same type of line as "we're going to science the shit out of this," only it falls on the other side of the binary. It's Jess from 'New Girl' in space (and I say that insultingly while also being a huge fan of 'New Girl,' so figure that out). And I think the problem, with 'The Martian' in mind, is that the movie tries to make more of a story out of Ryan Gosling's character—and in so doing fails both his character and the science story. The science feels like two people talking to themselves. It's beyond our understanding, and so we're just watching people do random things we surmise as "something important." And so the takeaways from those conversations are the cute asides, and given the science isn't really that important to understanding the movie, the cute asides take up the entire weight of the movie. Have you ever seen two good friends hang out and you're overhearing their conversation and you just kind of think they're both pretty annoying and you're glad you aren't friends with them, knowing full well that if you were sitting at that table, you'd be laughing right along with them? That's me and this movie. The relationship is the whole of it, and I just couldn't buy into it. And then there is a reveal that this story is some larger story about what it means to be brave! Okay! I would have liked that to have been the whole movie! That sounds interesting! It would have created an emotional through-line that connected the first and final scenes, but it only appears at the tail-end, because.... because??? Sigh. It's fine to just be a buddy movie that takes place a million miles away. Just be that. Lose the unnecessary earth-bound characters breaking character to sing karaoke. Lose the larger weight it ties itself to. Just be a guy on a ship on a mission. Or maybe next time I watch it—and I can see myself watching this again—I just go in with a different mindset and the light switch will be turned on, I'll be in the mood to hope, and suddenly I'll love it. But honestly, re-reading the quotes for this thing over at IMDB, trying to find a title for this post? Uhhhh I don't think I will, boss.
Cool Runnings — 4.5/5 (rewatch)
Man, I love this fucking shit. And I think, in all honesty, why this little comedy works so well, is because everyone gets a moment to be serious. I mean, John Candy barely even plays into the comedy of it all. He's gruff, with no desire to be liked. It's an understanding that it's enough that he's just such an obvious contrast to the boys, that the comedy will play. The whole movie is built around that contrast: Jamaican men against the backdrop of white snow, a hot tropical island at the Winter Olympics, a fun-loving culture vs a Swiss culture of efficiency, and generally how silly everyone looks in their incongruity—but the sinew that holds it together is sincerity. Everyone here has a story, a goal, a dream, even the enemies.
The Mastermind — 3.5/5
I think essentially a better version of 'Marty Supreme.' Josh O'Connor continues to be my favorite working actor, he has such an incredible lowkey charm. Timothée Chalamet is forceful in his charm, in your face, look at me, making you feel stupid if you don't buy into him, and Josh O'Connor isn't afraid to look a little stupid if it gets you to take your eyes off him. The soundtrack is a great complement to the tone of the story, as it feels jazz-like in the sense that he's got a plan but also feels like he's just figuring it out as he goes.
Adolescence S1 — 3.5/5
"Being a teenager" should qualify as a mental illness. Compelling, well-told, and ultimately leaves me feeling a bit empty. I think because it's a show that tries to trace the whys of a teenage mind, which will never give a fulfilling answer, in the same way that 'they're bipolar' never really answers the question of a mentally ill person. But I enjoy the world it explores as it tries to get to the core of that, people trying to understand the gaps between a changing world and its developing minds, which builds genuine sympathy and tangible grey areas around what guides a grey matter to do a despicable thing. "Who's at fault?" is essentially the question being asked, and the answer is both everyone and no one in particular. It's both easy to point fingers, and hard to point at the exact thing that tips the scale.
Blue Moon — 2.5/5
Overall, I walk away thinking the movie feels loud. Ethan Hawke is a dirtbag boyfriend of a different color. He's a small man in a quiet bar, playing to an audience that isn't there, an empty rafters. I honestly can't tell if he's a good actor or a bad actor in this. He disappears in the role, yes, but by virtue of shouting himself down. It's a movie where a guy tells stories about himself to build sympathy for a guy who's so obviously done it to himself. He's trying to convince you of something, because if you can believe it, then it must be true. It's an interesting character, but I don't know if he's my ideal version of a main character. The whole movie feels hopeless.
Cloverfield — 3/5
A cultural curiosity for me, finally explored. Feel like the conversation around this movie bubbles beneath the surface as "a somewhat important movie," but also never really manages to break that bubble. And that sort of plays out in the movie—a genuinely great idea (even if the great idea is just the mechanism by which its told) that sort of gets waylaid by its characters. It feels like a war zone—and you're unfortunately stuck with who you're stuck with, oh well.
Invincible S4 — 3.5/5
Ugh, waited too long, forgot my thoughts. This is the season I realized this show was just Dragonball Z taken seriously. Train, get stronger, only to fight someone stronger. I kind of love it. And then, just such a serious, earned sadness that runs through the center of it all, driven by legitimately hard choices, made and not made. This is the weight of power.
Margo's Got Money Troubles S1 — 3/5
An odd combination of lightness within a subject that can polarize. I think, though, a signal of the changing times, because of the subject matter but particularly because of the lightness with which it's handled. Not just the 'OnlyFans' is called out explicitly, name brand recognition, but that the show largely doesn't feel judgemental towards her choice, despite characters being shocked here or there. We get naked now, we show our penises and vaginas, what's it to you? Could you imagine this as a plot on 'The Patty Duke Show'? And I say 'lightness' and there's overdoses and custody battles and serious conversations but still, the tone doesn't dig in too deep. Elle Fanning seems like she's having fun. 30 minutes, and then put on a smile and we're on to the next hot topic. The bouts of seriousness don't carry over, they don't penetrate. I think, unfortunately, the show shows off a bit more of the conservatism I have in me about certain topics. I do kind of think doing porn can fuck up your life. I agree that sex work is work, but I'm not sure I can celebrate it all the same.
The Mandalorian and Grogu — 2.5/5
For the record, I did not watch the TV show, because I had no interest in it. But I also watched this without having much interest in it, and that's just how life works out sometimes, don't make a big deal out of it. And hey, the big takeaway: the little alien is cute. His janky-ass puppetry is fun, it's human. And then, aside from a hand up its ass, there is nothing inside that little thing. He has no story. He's only just a cute thing, beginning and end. Which is the crux of the problem: this movie has no characters. Every time Mando faintly speaks, he just showcases why bullets can't hit him: he's barely there. He's air; you can walk right through him. A great mystery of Hollywood is how a man who became known via an incredibly charming character in 'Game of Thrones' was then made to play self-serious sad-sacks in every other property he's cast in. That's essentially the movie: here's a bunch of fun things, do nothing with them. I'd almost prefer the movie went entirely silent, I think that would have been a lot more interesting choice. But it's fine. You can turn it on halfway through and wash your dishes with it on in the background. But the beautiful appeal of those types of movies is that at least there's a scene or two that grabs your attention, and you just let the water run, enraptured, before returning to your task. Nothing of the sort here. I almost want to give this a lower score just because at least in the slew of recent things I've given a 2.5, I can at least see ambition in them. Nothing of the sort here.
The Boys S5 — 2.5/5
"On the other hand, the show is at its worst with everyone else, scrambling to find purpose when we only really care about the two people who will inevitably meet in the final issue to finish it off." And here we go, continuing to ride that train of thought. The show keeps trying to tell us Hughie is the central character and, sure, no offense to the boy, he's got a place here, but it's not his show. It is, as with every season, a show that belongs to Anthony Starr and Karl Urban who are so good at embodying the worst of us. Anthony Starr's Homelander and Urban's Billy Butcher go from defiance to evil to childlike to petulant to funny, turning on a knife's edge. They're every reason we fall in love with narcissistic people, because they are so charming and so compelling and that knife just hanging above our heads is so dangerously seductive, because surely it will fall on anyone but me. (They are the Chosen Ones, but at least they've chosen me to stand by their side.) Their smile is perilous. And so, finally, as foreordained, they meet in the end for an epic battle and... it's fine. This season should have been a downhill race to a conclusion but plot device after plot device, go here, do this, find that, oops find this other thing, oh hey there's a new character, created a circuitous path to its predestination. How exactly it would play out was left to be seen, but we all had a pretty good idea of how the final battle would go. But, unfortunately, it doesn't end with them. It keeps going, cooling down and then trying to heat the scene back up, but by then one half of the team was missing and it couldn't quite recover from that.