(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a challenge or rebuttal to a famous saying, and “Nice guys finish last” is one that’s always annoyed me.)
“Nice guys finish last,” you say? I take offense at that. For I take pride in being nice. It’s never fallen flat. Good attitudes are rare enough to be of note these days, To brighten someone else’s life, however brief the blaze. The cruel may get ahead but likely not to paradise; The hares can scoff and hasten off, but tortoises play nice.
I’ve never once lamented being nice to someone yet, For what’s the opposite except immediate regret? I’d rather be the person who can dry another’s tears With just a smile or open door or pair of open ears. The bad boys roll their eyes and think they’ll never pay a price. Well, bless their hearts right off the charts, ‘cause dang it, I am nice! _________________________________
MPA rating: R (for language and violence)
While some like Ghostbusters are exceptions, horror comedy has never been a genre of interest to me since it so often relies on gore for comedic effect, finding humor in shock value, which isn’t my cup of tea. Yet the premise of Werewolves Within caught my attention, since I love the “one-of-us-does-not-belong” style of mystery, even if I’ve never played the video game on which the film is very loosely based. (On Rotten Tomatoes, it’s now the highest-rated film based on a video game.) Set in the notoriously quirky mountains of Vermont, the film features an array of colorful characters, including jovial new forest ranger Finn (Sam Richardson), likable mail carrier Cecily (Milana Vayntrub, a.k.a. Lily from the AT&T commercials), environmentalist Dr. Ellis (Rebecca Henderson), and many more, all snowed in together as a murderer seems to be picking them off one by one.
From the visiting oil man trying to lay a pipeline to the wealthy gay couple to the unstable woman obsessed with her lap dog, there is no shortage of suspects, some of which could have used more character development beyond their quirks, and no one can be entirely dismissed as the culprit when a dead body is discovered. Despite the title, there’s even lasting doubt about whether the werewolf is a possibility at all. Through it all, Sam Richardson’s Finn is especially a joy, displaying and advocating for a folksy niceness that even makes him reluctant to swear while the rest of the cast are in panic mode. He and Vayntrub are an endearing pair amid all the doubt and chaos, even though they remain suspects as well. Werewolves Within has the feel of an instant cult classic, sort of the werewolf counterpart to The Lost Boys, managing decently campy scares alongside endearingly eccentric humor. Despite some R-rated content, it was one horror comedy I enjoyed immensely.
Best line: (Finn Wheeler) “Well, we’re having a good old-fashioned sleepover.” (Marcus) “With guns, though.” (Finn) “With guns, yes.”
(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to depict a mythical or fictional person/creature doing something unusual, so I took a cue from the watered-down depictions in video games.)
We are the fierce and mighty ones, the villains and the threats, Who thrive on crime and murder with no sorrow or regrets. We’ve kept you up at night and made our way into your dreams, And broken laws with teeth and claws, with swords and laser beams. We feed our greed and hunger as our few defining truths, Our sanity is doubtful, and we haven’t any ruths. We are the Terminator and the Alien and Joker (The versions that are threatening and not the mediocre), The Predator and Dracula and all the heroes’ foes, Who’d burn the world to ashes if we’d no one to oppose. Designed to be disturbing and created to be hated, We nonetheless admit to being thoroughly frustrated. What do we have in common, we the kings of scourge and glutton? We’re forced to pose and dance around when gamers hit a button. ______________________________
MPA rating: PG-13
I’ll just start out by acknowledging that I am not a gamer in any way. I fell away from my Game Boy Advance over a decade ago, and while I wouldn’t mind playing games, I just can’t seem to find the time for it. So I am not exactly the target demographic for Free Guy, Ryan Reynolds’ good-natured riff on open-world games like Fortnite and Grand Theft Auto, complete with cameos from real Twitch streamers I barely recognize. Still, there’s great fun to be had in what is essentially a digital reimagining of The Truman Show.
Reynolds plays the optimistic Guy, a bank teller in Free City whose status as a non-player character (NPC) ensures he obliviously enjoys day after day of violence as players wreak havoc around him. When he notices an avatar called Molotov Girl (Jodie Comer), he achieves unexpected sentience as he falls in love, unaware that she is controlled in the real world by a game designer named Millie (also Comer). Millie is searching Free City for evidence of wrongdoing on the part of the game studio’s CEO Antwan (Taika Waititi, acting oddly like a jerkier version of Tom Haverford from Parks and Recreation), and soon she and Guy must risk it all to save his digital world.
My VC has a hang-up with video game-themed films like this or Wreck-It Ralph, simply finding it hard to care at all about characters in a game. I can understand that view to a point, but Free Guy does well in balancing the stakes in both the real world and Guy’s computer-generated sphere. Guy himself questions his own meaning when he learns the truth of his existence, and his buddy… um, Buddy (Lil Rel Howery) provides an answer that puts their purpose on an individual level that is hard to argue with. Of course, Free Guy is full-on comedy action, but I liked little moments like that, as well as an underlying theme challenging the wanton violence in games like GTA in favor of decency.
Not every joke lands among Ryan Reynolds’ mountain of quips, but enough do to still make Free Guy a fun watch. I also liked seeing Joe Keery from Stranger Things as Millie’s programmer friend who works for Antwan, not to mention the loads of cameos, ranging from another Stranger Things alum to a Marvel nod that easily earned the biggest laugh. I especially loved a brief clip of the late great Alex Trebek giving a mock Jeopardy clue, which reflected how long Free Guy had been delayed by the pandemic. Buoyed by impressive effects and an infectious spirit of optimism, Free Guy may be a new skin on familiar ingredients, but it certainly knows how to entertain.
Best line: (Guy) “Life doesn’t have to be something that just happens to us.”
(For Day 1 of NaPoWriMo, the prompt was to write a prose poem that is “a story about the body.” While prose poems are an oxymoron and not my cup of tea, I did my best with a focus on a baby’s small body being attended by a frenzied father.)
It was a little body that lay on the changing table, arms flailing, legs kicking, voice attuned to a jarring key to banish all repose. Above the infant, a man scrambled, spurred by the cacophony before him to end it by means he had yet to learn. Forced by need and desire for quiet, he seized the duty he once believed was meant for women, and learn he did. His tools were diaper, powder, wipe, and pin. “I wish I could remember,” he said with hollow chuckle, “what my folks did when I was little like you.” But with every inch and pound his own body had grown, he had forgotten, just as the child he aided now would forget the man tending her. Like a sullied diaper tossed as quickly as it had fulfilled its purpose, the baby’s short memory would drop away. But what the baby had no need of, the man would keep, echoes irksome but dear, long after that body had ceased to be so little. _____________________________________
MPA rating: PG (definitely a PG-13 by today’s standards)
It’s been far too long since I reviewed a film suggested by my dear Viewing Companion (VC), whose recommendations have fallen by the wayside amid Blindspots and new releases, so this one is way overdue. Before this, I was only familiar with the 1987 hit Three Men and a Baby via the persistent urban legend that a ghost boy can be glimpsed in a window in one scene. That theory has been explained as just a cardboard cutout of Ted Danson, but the dark legend has overshadowed a largely likable film about three men forced to grapple with responsibility as impromptu fathers.
Directed by Leonard Nimoy of all people, Three Men and a Baby’s title trio are Tom Selleck, Steve Guttenberg, and Ted Danson, all at the height of their ‘80s careers and playing hedonistic bachelors sharing a large New York apartment. Soon, little baby Mary is dropped off at their doorstep, the product of a tryst Danson’s character had in London, and, due to his absence for a movie role, the other two are forced to care for her. There’s a further misunderstanding involving drugs to add some threat to the plot, but the real story is the transformation of the main three, who are not particularly likable at first but gradually grow into their roles as adoptive parents.
With how often the idea has been recycled in film and television, there must be implicit humor at the sight of inexperienced people scrambling in the face of childcare. Like the cross-dressing of Some Like It Hot and others, I don’t really get what is inherently funny about the concept, but it can be done well still. Baby Boom is my favorite such film, but Three Men and a Baby has its moments as the three men grow fond of their charge, whose cuteness is undeniable. There are also moments that I highly doubt would fly in a modern semi-family film, such as full infant nudity during diaper changing, but I suppose it’s just proof that times change. It was interesting to see Nancy Travis of Last Man Standing in a small role as the baby’s mother and feigning a British accent. While the lasting popularity of Three Men and a Baby (a Disney+ remake is in the works) is likely due to its stars rather than the film itself, it’s a pleasant slice of ‘80s entertainment to give young people an idea of what their parents went through.
Best line: (Michael, played by Guttenberg, trying to sing Mary to sleep) “Hush little baby, don’t you cry. When Peter gets home, I’m gonna punch him in the eye.”
To have more relations… That’s just more frustrations!
If I had had brothers, They’d deny me my druthers.
If I had a sister, I’d cease and desist her.
I’d hate him, refund her… And yet, I still wonder. _______________________
MPA rating: PG
It’s always nice or at least assuring when you can watch a movie and know exactly how you feel about it by the end. Whether you loved everything about it or found it a waste of time or just have that all-too-common meh reaction, at least you know your own opinion. But what about the gray space where you’re torn between a film’s merits and its problems, never sure which outweighs the other to turn the thumb up or down. Encanto is just such a film for me, a Disney animation that is equal parts marvel and mess but ultimately left me glad to know that a flawed film can still be a good one.
Set in Colombia seemingly in the early 1900s, Encanto focuses on the amazing Madrigal family, whose matriarch/Abuela (María Cecilia Botero) founded the town decades before with the aid of a magical candle that granted her a sentient house to live in and later supernatural abilities to her children and grandchildren. For every child growing up, a ceremony imparts a magical “gift” for their and the town’s benefit, but young Mirabel (Stephanie Beatriz) was spurned and left feeling anything but special. A few years later, when the candle’s magic seems to be dying, she decides to prove her worth by saving her family’s miracle.
There’s a lot going on with Encanto and its large cast, and, like Eternals, I’ve seen some suggest that it would have been better suited for a miniseries instead of a film to help flesh out the characters. Yet the film is a wonder at fast-paced characterization, in large part due to Lin-Manuel Miranda’s outstanding soundtrack of original songs. More than any other Disney film since Tangled, the songs are deeply integrated into the storyline, with musical numbers introducing and resolving entire subplots while making the exposition catchy and fun. Miranda’s Latin-inspired beats and trademark rapid-fire rhymes are first-rate Disney tunes, as evidenced by how often I’ve replayed them, especially “We Don’t Talk about Bruno” and the surprisingly deep and relatable “Surface Pressure.”
Among the film’s other strengths are its vibrant animation that turns the often poorly depicted nation of Colombia into a land of bright colors and magic, as well as a diverse Hispanic cast that includes the first Disney musical protagonist to wear glasses. So with all these pros, what’s so wrong with the film that it left me initially torn? Well, what’s left? The plot. Encanto has a good story and themes about suppressed familial trauma, the pressure of expectations, and the ripples caused by violence and displacement, which I’ve seen struck a chord with people of Latin American descent but are universal enough to be appreciated by folks like me as well, who may not have a large, close-knit family unit.
Oddly enough for Disney, the magic is where it stumbles. Little to no clear explanation is given for basically anything magical that happens, like how the candle became magical, why Mirabel was excluded, why the magic began to fade, or why the prophetic visions of Mirabel’s uncle Bruno (John Leguizamo) become vague and hard to interpret when he foresees the events of the film. This has resulted in an abundance of headcanons and theories about the film’s open-ended elements (“maybe Mirabel’s gift is her connection to the house”, “maybe she’s meant to be the successor to Abuela, who also lacks superpowers”, etc.), which are honestly fascinating, but I would have preferred that the film itself actually answer some of these questions. (One theory I liked was that, at her door ceremony, Mirabel touched the candle and then wiped her hands on her dress before touching the doorknob, perhaps transferring the magic to herself. It’s a good theory, but the film doesn’t bring any attention to it to indicate that was the filmmakers’ intent.) I realize this lack of explanation supposedly ties into the Colombian literary genre of “magical realism” where fantastical elements are often left unexplained, but these are aspects inherent to the plot.
Ultimately, the film simply wants the audience to “go with it” and accept what it presents without overthinking, and doing so certainly helped my enjoyment on a second viewing. Many of the family members’ gifts reflect their personality and character, such as Mirabel’s sister Luisa using her super-strength to bear every family burden or their mother being able to heal injuries with her meals (mom-cooked meals have definitely helped me feel better before). So on some level, the magic could be viewed as a giant metaphor for the roles and talents of any large family, but without more explanation, it’s something of a mixed metaphor. Yet it still clearly speaks effectively to the pressures on older siblings and feelings of inadequacy in younger ones.
While I wrestled with it for a while, I eventually decided that Encanto’s strengths outweigh its weaknesses. Some naysayers have pointed out its flaws and extended them to the good parts to make the film seem like a total catastrophe, which it’s not. It’s almost surprising that Disney would be behind a comparatively small-scale, introspective feature like this, boasting largely unknown voice actors and the rarity of a large and intact family, albeit one with issues. (Some friends of mine said they ought to do a follow-up short featuring the whole cast going through a therapy session.) For both entertainment and plot progression, it relies on Miranda’s music to do much of the heavy lifting, but the songs are up to the task, and there are so many cultural details and fast-moving gags amid the gorgeous animation that it’s well worth repeat viewing. Encanto is far from perfect, but, as Mirabel’s sister Isabela finds, perfection does not define one’s worth.
Best line: (Mirabel, to Abuela) “We are a family because of you, and nothing could ever be broken that we can’t fix together.”
If the world has left you no control Of life or love, of plan or goal, And made you think there’s no escape From reality in its present shape, Then I would say it’s worth reminding You that inertia can be blinding, Magnifying common stress Into a mirage of helplessness.
You are still the one who chooses All of your actions and excuses. They can change and so can you With simple thought and follow-through. ____________________________
MPA rating: Approved (nothing explicit but a definite PG-13 for subject matter)
Ah ha! I’ve done it. After school and life got me so behind, I have finally caught up and completed my 2021 Blindspot series before the end of the year! And I’m capping things off with the Best Picture winner of 1960, which fittingly happens to end on New Year’s Eve as well. I’d always heard about how The Apartment was such a classic and decided it was finally time to see why, and it gave me a rare shift of opinion.
When I reviewed Strictly Ballroom years ago, I was flabbergasted at how it started as a movie I couldn’t stand and yet ended up being sweet and romantic in the second half. I had a similar experience here. The apartment of the title belongs to insurance clerk Bud Baxter (Jack Lemmon), though he rarely gets to enjoy it. Based on promises of promotions from his superiors in the company, he agrees to let them use his apartment for their frequent affairs, leaving them a key while he goes out. Even his own manager Mr. Sheldrake (Fred MacMurray) expects his cooperation, and Baxter is pliant enough to just look the other way, at least until he learns of the involvement of his elevator-operator crush Ms. Kubelik (Shirley MacLaine).
Once I was knee-deep into the film, both my VC and I realized we didn’t like the premise one bit, even if we might sound like the fuddy-duddy critics of the ‘60s. There’s hardly anyone worth liking. Baxter’s boss is a proven womanizer, Ms. Kubelik is too weak and besotted to put an end to being used, and Baxter himself, despite Lemmon’s natural genteel charisma, is a spineless enabler to all this adultery, repeatedly taking the blame to cover up his managers’ infidelity. Perhaps Billy Wilder’s direction and witty script are supposed to make up for the moral vacancy of a plot that is probably (and sadly) all too accurate in its depiction of extramarital dalliances, but it wasn’t endearing to me.
And then… it turned a corner. One reckless move to put an end to the whole situation leads to a sudden surge of character growth and accompanying sympathy. Baxter and Ms. Kubelik get a chance to actually talk and bond outside of their passings in the elevator, and the story becomes not just an exposé of the characters’ moral failings but a chance for them to improve themselves. As Baxter’s doctor neighbor (Jack Kruschen) encourages him, “Be a mensch.” The ending left me smiling and satisfied in a way I never would have expected based on the first half of the film.
I still fail to see why it’s lauded as one of the greatest films of all time, but The Apartment proved its worth as a classic, eventually anyway. Lemmon and MacLaine make a perfect pair, and their Oscar-nominated performances run the gamut from screwball comedy to some surprisingly dark moments. The premise still doesn’t appeal to me, but I liked how it is used by the end to further Baxter’s self-confidence and give him something worth caring about more than his job. Like Strictly Ballroom, it’s proof that you should withhold judgment not just from a story’s cover but should probably wait all the way to the end, appraisal-wise.
Best line: (Baxter, referring to her compact) “The mirror… it’s broken.” (Ms. Kubelik) “Yes, I know. I like it that way. Makes me look the way I feel.”
Two worlds diverged in a multiverse, And neither could know a single choice Had split their fates to so disperse, One to grieve, the other rejoice, But which was better, which was worse?
The first was practical and straight, Made sense for me and claimed its spoils. My life it did not complicate But ruined others’ mortal coils, Which one could easily blame on fate.
The second took a rougher course, With heartache sighing “them’s the breaks.” Others prospered, while remorse Reminded me of those mistakes That all accept but none endorse.
If I could see the consequence From some perspective few attain, The world that thrived at my expense Is the only choice I’d entertain, If I could make all the difference. _________________________________
MPA rating: PG-13
I think it’s safe to say that Spider-Man: No Way Home is the biggest movie since Avengers: Endgame, in both box office totals and audience enthusiasm. After months of speculation and leaks (which I did my best to avoid), the third entry in Tom Holland’s MCU trilogy promised the franchise’s first real exploration of the multiverse and its infinite possibilities, and it thankfully delivered on the Christmas hopes and dreams of countless fans, me included.
Picking up right where Far from Home left off, with Mysterio posthumously revealing Spider-Man’s true identity, Peter Parker’s life is turned upside down with haters, fans, and consequences ruining his and his friends’ chances at a normal future. When he seeks the help of Dr. Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch), their attempt to overwrite the collective memory of Spider-Man’s identity instead tears a hole in the multiverse, allowing in familiar characters from past Spider-Man films. It becomes apparent to Peter that the interloping baddies, including Doc Ock (Alfred Molina), Green Goblin (Willem Dafoe), and Electro (Jamie Foxx) among others, are equally in need of saving as the people they threaten, and he must make some hard decisions to help everyone he can.
With the walls of the multiverse being punched through, Spider-Man: No Way Home is also the biggest all-out geek-fest since Endgame while also being similarly engrossing but easier to absorb than the multiversal mashup of Into the Spider-Verse. I’ve read critical complaints over the rowdiness of audience members, but I thoroughly enjoyed my theater experience, with fanboys periodically whooping or cheering when awaited characters appeared or knowing references were dropped. Huge credit is due to the cast members returning from past movies, particularly Molina and Dafoe, who effortlessly channel their villainous personas as if it hasn’t been over fifteen years. And while I won’t outright spoil what is perhaps Hollywood’s best-kept open secret, I’ll just say that the film manages to grant closure to the two prior Spider-Man series in a satisfying way that only made me want even more.
One thing that No Way Home has in common with its Spider-predecessors is how its superhero must grapple with the weight of his own mistakes, and this film easily has the biggest stakes of Holland’s solo tenure in the MCU. Over the years, Spider-Man has had his fair share of tragedy, and I feel like the way he responds to it is a key part of what makes him such a universally appealing character. Here, Holland proves his selflessness in trying to assist villains who seemed beyond help in their prior appearances, his belief in second chances being tested to its limit. And through it all, Holland continues to be a wholly endearing Peter Parker with Zendaya’s MJ and Jacob Batalon’s Ned forming a tight group that I hope to see again in future movies. And anyone who wanted to see a Spider-Man/Dr. Strange fight will undoubtedly be satisfied.
If I had to come up with a negative or two, I suppose my expectations were so high that I perhaps wish there had been even more multiverse-enabled cameos, like a glimpse into the aftermath of the other universes. Plus, as much as the film is concerned with handing out happy endings, it was a shame that one character ended up with the short end of the stick, for now at least. Even so, Spider-Man: No Way Home is a comic book movie nerd’s fantasy-come-true. It clearly depends on knowledge of the previous five Spider-Man films for full appreciation (and the mid-credits scene feels a bit shoehorned in), but No Way Home ranks among the best installments of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, an enjoyable ride twenty years in the making.
Best line: (classic in every way) “With great power, there must also come great responsibility.”
Rank: List-Worthy (joining the previous Holland Spidey films)
The grass is always greener If you have the right demeanor To view negatives as novel And see good in every hovel, If you welcome every nuisance And embrace the sad but true, since You can meet the world sincerely If you understand it clearly, For “greener” is subjective And dependent on perspective. ____________________
MPA rating: R (mainly for language)
With the end of the year fast approaching and my backlog continuing to grow, I’m thinking I’ll need to shorten my reviews to churn them out a bit faster. And my Blindspots are especially in need of catching up. I had hoped to see Coming to America before its long-awaited sequel came out earlier this year, but life had other plans, as life so often does. Silly life…. Anyway, this is one of those ‘80s comedy classics that I’m somewhat surprised that I never watched sooner, simply because of a vague recollection that my mom once said it wasn’t that funny. While I can agree it’s not quite Eddie Murphy’s finest hour, I still found it to be a winning star vehicle for him.
Murphy plays Prince Akeem Joffer, the heir of the fictional African nation of Zamunda, who is tired of having his every need supplied by overly attentive servants. After meeting his yes-woman of a bride-to-be (Vanessa Bell), Akeem decides to go on a trip with his friend Semmi (Arsenio Hall) to find a bride of his own in New York City, whether his traditional parents (James Earl Jones, Madge Sinclair) approve or not. Murphy gets comedic mileage out of the fish-out-of-water scenario, especially because he isn’t offended by NYC’s seedier aspects but embraces them wholeheartedly as a wonderful contrast to his life back home. Even so, several scenes go on too long, such as a tribal dance that would probably be labeled racist if Eddie Murphy wasn’t behind it. Plus, Murphy and Hall both relish in playing multiple colorful side characters, who aren’t particularly funny beyond the impressive makeup and the realization of who’s playing them.
Yet I found myself sold more on the romance than the comedy, as Akeem begins courting Lisa (Shari Headly), the daughter of his boss (John Amos) at a local fast-food restaurant. Their chemistry works especially well, and the humor of his trying to keep his true identity a secret gives way to a heart-meltingly sweet confession of love. I might have liked a little more context around a climactic “reveal,” but Coming to America was a satisfying and fun rom com and a who’s who of African American actors, from the early roles of Samuel L. Jackson and Cuba Gooding, Jr. to the reunion of Roots veterans Amos and Sinclair (not to mention an entirely unexpected cameo from another Murphy film that was worth the price of admission). I also love how Jones and Sinclair were later cast as another African royal couple in The Lion King. As with other Blindspots from that era, I feel like I might have a greater fondness for this film if I’d seen it years ago, but I’m still looking forward to revisiting the characters in the sequel now.
Best line: (Queen Aoleon, to Akeem) “When I first met your father, I was terrified.” (King Jaffe) “I must admit, I was frightened too.” (the Queen) “I was so nervous, I became nauseous. But over the years, I have grown to love your father very much.” (the King) “So you see, my son, there is a very fine line between love and nausea.”
There once was a spider I hated, A creature that God had created. It helped to cull pests, The most useful of guests, But I didn’t care so I slayed it. ________________________
MPA rating: PG-13
I may not be a fan of the horror genre in general, but Halloween is a good excuse to seek out some new scary movies I might actually like. Supernatural horror is usually my preferred cup of tea, with a greater focus on tension over gore, but there’s one subgenre that often gets overshadowed by all the zombies and vampires out there – the nature creature feature.
When I was a kid, two things truly terrified me: the clown from Poltergeist and spiders. And unfortunately, I could only reassure myself that one of those wasn’t real. I would freak out at the mere sight of a spider on the playground, and I used to paper-clip notecards over the spider pictures in my biology book. So it’s no surprise at all that I never expected to see a film titled Arachnophobia in my life. I don’t know if this is common, but my once-severe antipathy toward spiders eased over time. I’ll still kill any that dare cross my threshold, but I can at least look at them without cringing. Maybe I just got used to Shelob and Charlotte.
The debut of director Frank Marshall, Arachnophobia is basically Jaws for spiders, taking an intimidating but largely non-threatening animal and turning them into a bloodthirsty monster seemingly targeting humans. An unfortunate American photographer (Mark L. Taylor) goes with a British spider expert (Julian Sands) to investigate new species in the Amazon rain forest before being bitten and killed by an unusually aggressive and resilient specimen. When his body is sent back to small-town California, the spider hitches a ride, beginning a series of unexplained deaths for new arachnophobic doctor Ross Jennings (Jeff Daniels) to figure out.
I was prepared for Arachnophobia to bring back my discomfort with arachnids, and certain scenes with large numbers of the crawlies emerging from throughout a house did give me the willies. The fact that much of the lurking and eventual confrontations with the spiders take place in everyday home locations add to the squirm factor, since you never know what could be prowling just out of sight in the places you feel safest.
Yet I found myself more entertained than scared, thanks to the unrealistic lethality of the spiders and the slight camp of the plot. John Goodman plays a scene-stealing pest control expert, whose arrogance belies an unusual competence for someone in this kind of movie, and there’s an undercurrent of dark irony as Dr. Jennings’ patients keep getting killed right after he examines them. The film never fully embraces its comedy label, but somehow it totally sells a face-off between Jeff Daniels and a tarantula. With Amblin Entertainment as one of its production companies, Arachnophobia has a Spielbergian vibe to it that feels more like E.T. than Jaws. I might have been able to handle it as a kid too, but then again it might have just made me even more skittish. At least now I know I’m over my fear of those eight-legged freaks… I mean, friends. See, no repressed spider hatred around here….
Best line: (Ross, after killing a spider) “Therapy.”
I once endured the office And drove in every day. I wore the expected buttoned shirt And stared at screens till my eyeballs hurt, Attended meetings that unveiled They could have simply been emailed, And in my cubicle I sat, The lowest-ranking technocrat.
But now… My home base is my office, From bed to chair each day. My eyes are still assailed by screens, But that’s been true since my early teens. I only dress my upper third, And even that is rather blurred. The meetings stayed, but I attend From my back porch, a welcome trend. A shame a virus was the cause, But office work ain’t what it was. _______________________
MPA rating: R (for language and brief nudity)
What ever happened to that guy who wrote poems and movie reviews? Had a blog called Rhyme and Reason? Oh yeah, he earned his Bachelor’s degree and finally found time to write something new! That’s right; school is officially over, and while the next month still promises to be busy, I am at last freed of a major time sink investment and can get back to this blog, starting with my already delayed Blindspot series.
I knew Office Space was a popular comedy from Mike Judge, but it wasn’t until the last couple years that it seemed relevant to me, since I had previously been in the restaurant/customer service world and had no experience with office life. In fact, getting a desk job in an office was a huge goal and a satisfying achievement when I finally transitioned to an IT career. Since I’ve had a taste of the office (pre-COVID at least), it seemed like the right time for a satire like Office Space.
Ron Livingston plays Peter Gibbons, a programming pencil pusher working in the generic office complex of Initech, along with his comrades in monotony Michael (David Herman) and Samir (Ajay Naidu). Tired of being worried and frustrated, Peter agrees to an interrupted hypnosis session, and while the lasting impact of the hypnosis remains unclear, he finds himself unburdened by the demands of life and his manager Bill Lumbergh (Gary Cole). When Peter’s career ironically benefits from his newfound carefree attitude at the expense of his friends, they concoct a plan to get back at Initech, with trouble naturally ensuing.
Based on Judge’s Milton cartoon shorts and featuring Stephen Root as the mumbling side character Milton Waddams, Office Space is a comedy that finds its humor not in rapid-fire jokes but in magnifying everyday headaches to which its audience can relate. The chuckles come from recognition and a sort of shared sympathy. After all, who hasn’t worried about annual job evaluations or wanted to destroy an uncooperative printer? Ron Livingston’s Peter is an effective everyman doing the nonchalant acts of rebellion that most of us are too smart or worried to do ourselves, and though the film’s plot is rather meandering, its eventual payoff is cleverly satisfying for those most oppressed by “the system.”
I probably could have related to Office Space already, since Peter’s love interest Joanna (Jennifer Aniston) works as a waitress, but there were certainly office-specific eccentricities sprinkled throughout the insightful script that I was able to recognize better now that I’ve worked in an office. I can’t help but think of this movie anytime one of my bosses says, “If you could do so-and-so, that’d be great.” At least it’s not in Lumbergh’s now-iconic monotone. That being said, I also feel quite lucky since I greatly enjoy my job, which is neither as dully repetitive nor as paperwork-heavy as Initech (plus no cubicles), so I suppose the film’s soul-crushing example of office doldrums could also be seen as an encouragement to recognize when your job isn’t that bad. (Maybe it is that bad, but I believe in looking on the bright side.) While I would have enjoyed Office Space even more without the semi-frequent profanity, I can see why it’s become a cult favorite and a touchstone for all those weary of office culture or suffering from “a case of the Mondays.”
Best line: (Peter, again offering an example for us to say our lives aren’t that bad) “So I was sitting in my cubicle today, and I realized, ever since I started working, every single day of my life has been worse than the day before it. So that means that every single day that you see me, that’s on the worst day of my life.” (Dr. Swanson, the psychologist) “What about today? Is today the worst day of your life?” (Peter) “Yeah.” (Dr. Swanson) “Wow, that’s messed up.”
(I almost decided to skip this last day of NaPoWriMo, being late once again, but it’s still April 30 on the West Coast, I suppose. The last prompt of April was for a poem giving directions, so mine is meant to lead to a happy family.)
There are many forks to family, Where the road splits east and west, Every one a chance to grow a bond Or leave it cold and unexpressed.
Will you raise your voice or calm it, Eye your child or your phone, Repeat the things they want to hear Or speak opinions of your own?
Take a left at dream-supporting, Take a right at honesty, And the forks will prove a straighter line Than anyone on earth can see. _____________________________
MPA rating: PG
Rarely do I watch a Netflix movie so soon after it is released, but I’ve been eager to see The Mitchells vs the Machines ever since it was known as Connected and supposedly coming out last year as a non-Netflix movie. And I don’t mind it being sold to a streaming giant (thanks again, COVID) since it allowed me to watch a fantastic movie from the comfort of my home. The warm-hearted, hyperkinetic love child of Gravity Falls writers (Mike Rianda, Jeff Rowe, who also directed together), The Lego Movie’s producers (Christopher Lord, Phil Miller), and Into the Spider-Verse’s animation company (Sony Pictures Animation), The Mitchells vs. the Machines is an animated blast making full use of the talents behind it.
On the surface, The Mitchells vs. the Machines could easily have lapsed into one-note laziness, its plot boiling down to “dysfunctional family must deal with robot apocalypse.” On top of that, it really does embrace a ton of cliches, from the stressed father-daughter relationship, to the main character’s “I’m different from everyone else” monologue, to the villain saying “I already have” when they’re told they’ll never get away with it. It’s really a testament to the writing that the film is so consistently hilarious and the characters so well-realized that its strengths completely outshine the apparent weaknesses.
Honestly, this movie made me laugh harder and more often than any other in recent memory, thanks to its sly repeated gags, social commentary, and cultural self-awareness. I have long been a fan of Gravity Falls so it’s about time its writers were given an even bigger budget with which to play. My love for animation was further fed by the wondrous 2D-3D mix that Into the Spider-verse pioneered; it’s not quite as frenetic as that film’s comic book extravagance (which I think is a good thing), though it still includes imaginary, sketch-like flourishes to highlight how the movie-loving Katie Mitchell sees the world. Plus, the soundtrack is awesome, culminating especially in the action climax.
Abbi Jacobson does a fine job as Katie, but Danny McBride as her dad, Maya Rudolph as her mom, and Olivia Colman as the AI taking over the world are pitch-perfect casting. (Rudolph’s Linda Mitchell also gets the greatest mother beast mode scene in film history.) And as I said, the script is filled with huge heart to go with its constant jokes, stressing the power of familial bonds and subverting the usual trope of only the parent needing to grow to improve the strained relationship. I can’t wait to see The Mitchells vs. the Machines again, and I sincerely hope this creative team can deliver more gems like this one.
Best line: (Katie, after her dad locks the car doors) “Yeah, that’ll keep the robots out.” (Dad) “Hey, you don’t know. Maybe locks are the robots’ weakness.” (Mom) “Guys, can’t we all just be terrified together as a family?”
and
(Dr. Mark Bowman, the Steve Jobs-ish creator of the AI) “I’m sorry about causing the whole machine uprising. It’s almost like stealing people’s data and giving it to a hyper-intelligent AI as part of an unregulated tech monopoly was a bad thing.”
