This Week in Geek (30/08-05/09/26)

"Accomplishments"

In theaters: What I liked the most about Coyote vs. Acme - and there are a lot of things to like - was that despite his taking on the big corporation, being the victim of Acme, and, in a way, saving lazy lawyer Will Forte's soul, Wile E. Coyote never stops being a villain. We're in the world of Roger Rabbit, here, 80 years on, and the Toons are loose. Even normal humans may fall prey to cartoon logic. So it's very funny, and often clever, and oh no, did I just wipe some tears?! Come on, movie, don't do that to me! Embarrassing! Fun cast, since Forte, John Cena and Luis Guzmán (or their screen personae) are kind of like living cartoon characters anyway. On the Toon side, practically everyone from the Looney Tunes universe is in this, up to and including Peter Lorre (I didn't expect to see a new Peter Lorre movie in 2026, but there you go). And honestly, Erix Bauza can pretty much do all of Mel Blanc's voices perfectly, it's kind of amazing. A beautiful love letter to the best stable of cartoon characters in history (sorry, Disneytoons).

At home: Before Bugs Bunny's ascension, the big Looney Tunes stars were Porky Pig and a particularly unhinged Daffy Duck. Consequently, making the stars of The Day the Earth Blew Up, in which they face an alien plot that involves mind-controlling bubble gum, is very much a love letter to old cartoons - the stiff animation of Farmer Jim (the breakout character of the movie), the flat-drawing musical number, the boxy cartoon short, etc... Consequently, my one complaint is that the human beings in the film (barring a few exceptions) aren't extreme enough, and look more like people who walked out of The Real Ghostbusters, or something like that. But generally, it's a fun adventure with plenty of the Looney Tunes's trademark slapstick, a bit of romance for Porky, and once the gum plot goes into action, absolutely wild visuals. Daffy's frenetic energy could have pushed the film into a space I don't like - some of the CG animation films are just too fast-paced for me, looking at you, Penguins of Madagascar and Hoppers - but I think the simplicity of the cartooning and the evenly-paced dialogue keep my animation headaches at bay.

Dazzling wuxia that uses Chinese folklore to its fullest extent (kind of like an animated Zu Warriors), Ne Zha is really the story of two children reincarnated from powerful forces that were once combined - the title character from a Demon Pill cursed to be destroyed by the Gods before he can destroy the world, the other the Spirit Pearl, subverted and corrupted by evil dragons. Fated to come to blows, they fight against that Fate which, to be fair, has already been redirected by outside influences. Ne Zha is essentially an angry toddler with super strength, but his parents don't love him any less, even if it's hard to keep him out of trouble. Love, friendship, these are things a demon shouldn't feel, but here we are. The wild magical action hardly ever lets up, but there are moments of heart and comedy throughout (the potty humor might seem dissonant to Western audiences, but are in keeping with the Chinese style). I dug it and will be looking for the sequels.

Away was animator Gints Zilbalodis's first feature before Flow, and it's definitely of a piece with the award-winning film. A boy has parachuted into a similarly surreal landscape, and with the help of animals he meets along the way, he must survive until he gets back to civilization while stalked by strange shadowy monsters right out of Miyazaki. As in Flow, there's no dialogue. And yes, there IS a cat sequence that foreshadows his later opus. Visual art in motion, it's less about the plot than it is the visuals, and proceeds slowly, though not without incident, towards its destination. I wish it had a more conclusive ending and perhaps it reminded me too much of one of those indie video games where there's no real goal, just exploration and poetry (at most, a puzzle game like Myst). I do appreciate the ambition of this one-man show, however, and everything with the bird companion is great. It's not a dig when I say I'd drop this on a screen as a movie painting and let it play in the background.

The Underwater Menace is actually the perfect serial for the animated treatment. The characters are already cartoonish, and the designs, especially in glorious colour, could have been ripped out of the world of Filmation's Aquaman or SeaLab 2020 (they're not exactly the same as in the serial and that's good). The sets are huge. The Atlanteans have been given greyish skin, probably on account of their living underground for millennia. It plays well with their make-up and gives them an otherworldly look. And generally, the visual cock-ups have been fixed. Dropped from the previous DVD release is the visit of the BBC's television center, replaced by an animation gallery, BBC news reports about episode 2 (and a Galaxy 4) being found (the TV one is cheesy and not well researched, the radio one includes interviews with the collector who found it and a member of the restoration team), Frazer Hines's introduction to episode 3, and the first episode (plus outtakes) of The Midnight Men, the mostly-lost 1964 collaborarion between  Patrick Troughton and Joseph Fürst (Zaroff), though never onscreen together - this spy thriller feels relatively adult and I was intrigued, but it's pretty ancillary to Doctor Who.

Finished The Bear (seasons 3 through 5) and while I do think there's a dip in the middle seasons (repeat conversations as characters share the same thing information with other members of the cast, and things fail to happen because they're always interrupted just as they were about to say the thing), the show definitely sticks the landing with a final season that almost entirely takes place on the same day, and it's kind of impossible to say no to the "Play Next" prompt. Though by this point in the series, the restaurant has been rebuilt and is chasing Michelin stars, there's still a massive ticking clock over every season, and we're told often that restaurants are a terrible business, with low profits and a tendency to fail. Be that as it may, as a television show, it's great to see characters find their passions for what is ostensibly art. It's hard to do a show about a painter, for example, but a kitchen requires an ensemble cast and high pressure.

I prefer biopics that focus on a particular moment rather than cradle-to-grave sprawls, and Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere does that, picking the Boss up as he's about to become a megastar and instead decides to write a thoroughly uncommercial album and make fans the record company wait for his greatest hits. It's a good encapsulation of his dilemma. How does the "voice of the working class" remain grounded in the face of success? The dark album in question, "Nebraska", becomes an expiation of his guilt, and an exorcism of his daddy issues (I always appreciate it when a music biopic's necessary descent isn't about drugs). Jeremy Allen White seems to just have walked off the set of The Bear to do this movie without much of a change. Like Carmen in that series, his Springsteen has mental health problems, a dysfunctional family, is evasive and introspective, and on a quest for purity. He does a lot with a little, but I'm not sure yet if he CAN do "a lot" exactly, since the performance is so similar. He does sing the songs for real, too, so it's not an indictment of his talent. Director Scott Cooper seems to be on the Bear train as well, with the film heavy on procedural montage and nightmarish anxiety. What I most appreciate, however, is that it really is about writing an album - finding inspiration, doing research, fiddling with lyrics, trying different arrangements... I'm more interested in the artistic process than I am biographical detail, and it makes the story feel all the more authentic for it. I'm not specifically a Boss fan, so take my appreciation for what it is - that of a film lover (but it seems, so was the Boss).

Everbody says the same thing about The Mandalorian and Grogu (terrible title) - that it feels like they just strung episodes of the show together - and I'm not going to tell you any different. It definitely had its origins in Mando's fourth season, and the interconnected missions were streamlined into 2+ hours. We're supposed to have watched the show - no information reiterated - and the only things we might consider "expanded" are the action scenes, but as the show already felt like it was movie quality, these don't necessarily feel like added value. Too many CG creatures hopping around. In fact, it's missing a very important element and that's a REASON to make it a film. It needed to change the duo's status quo, or reveal something big (like the origin of Baby Yoda), but it's just a simple adventure. Heck, even the television seasons had more twists and revelations than this, so it's a little boring even for fans of the show. I'm also weirded out by the Hutts who speak English, including The Bear's Jeremy Allen White as Jabba's son (not the most surprising casting as Martin Scorsese does a voice, too). Sigourney Weaver gives the most boring performance of her career, however.  But yeah, if you liked the show, it's fine, but never more than fine.

One Film for Every Year Since Film Existed
Putting this feature on Express, basically one a day until the end of the month, just in time for my annual October Horrothon which requires one horror movie a day. I want to get "Every Year" out of the way before then.

[1994] La Haine: Mathieu Kassovitz took Cannes (and every "must see before you die" list) by storm with La Haine ("Hate"), and never really equalled it. Two of its young stars, however, went international. Vincent Cassel has been in a number of high profile action franchises, and I could say the same of Saïd Taghmaoui, though his most memorable role, to me, remains the torturer in Three Kings. Here, they and Hubert Koundé are all using their real names, lending a docu-drama vibe to the stoy of three friends from the Parisian projects getting up to no good in the wake of clashes with police that have put one of their friends in the I.C.U. Shot in black and white in actual locations, it all feels very raw despite Kassovitz's stylish transitions (I was reminded of Spike Lee in this same era), largely due to the chaos. What's hardest about the film isn't the despairing naturalism or moments of violence, but rather the fact that everyone is angrily shouting all the time - exhausting. "La Rage" should almost have been the title. Of the three friends, only Hubert can slow down and think, but Saïd's smart mouth and Vinz's unquenchable rage drag him into the madness. There's no plot so much as a direction - down - and it sticks the landing.

[1996] Shall We Dance?: It's rare to stumble upon such a wholesome movie... Someone more cynical than I am might  attach impure thoughts to Mr. Sugiyama when he walks into dance class, lured by Mai, a window siren who teaches ballroom, but really hates it - a consolation prize for the competitive dancing she failed out of. He's happily married, has a cool daughter, a new house... Why would he stray? I rather think he's attracted to her melancholy, and then to her grace. She's not an object of affection, she's an ideal, something he both relates to, but packaged in something he didn't know he aspired to. From there, the spirit of dance takes over. Not just for him, but for all the characters - it becomes much more an ensemble piece as the amateur ballroom competition rolls around and Mr. Sugiyama is roped into participating. He becomes a kind of catalyst for everyone else's story. It's a film that celebrates dance without making the amateurs seem TOO good. Fun choreography, but not unattainable. Very sweet and charming.

[1997] The Man Who Knew Too Little: I'm always up for a spy comedy AND a Hitchcock spoof, but this Bill Murray vehicle is a little thin on backstory - the lead being played by Bill Murray does most of the heavy lifting, what more do you want to know? - and it gets us into its extremely contrived premise as quickly as it can before you ask too many questions. Basically, Murray is a goofy American visiting his brother in London, and because he's in the way of a business meeting, he's fobbed off on an interactive play in which he must play a character in a crime story. A misunderstanding gets him into an espionage plot where he plays a hitman, and he's basically invulnerable because he thinks it's all fake and a total hoot. Check your brain at the door in terms of story logic, and you'll find a lot of amusing moments in Bill Murray playing an accidental James Bond. Joanne Whalley is good, too, a his Girl Friday. Could have stood for more Alfred Molina as the Butcher. Ultimately better than I was told to expect, but there are too many contrivances required to make the story keep going for too strong a recommendation.

[1998] There's Something About Mary: The peak of when Cameron Diaz was an It Girl, but I was never a fan of the Farrelly Brothers' off-color comedies, and here too often telegraph even the passable jokes. Part of the problem is that in trying to create shock comedy, they don't seem to sure of their punches' directions. All the stuff with differently-abled, for example. We're sometimes mocking the bigots who treat them badly, but are just as often asked to mock them for their disabilities. Mary herself is a pure soul - manic pixie girl though she may be - and helps us swallow those bitter pills, but only up to a point. There's an interesting bit with the musicians singing the story, and the romcom mechanics are mostly sound (give or take such illogical requirements as Mary apparently not having a sense of smell, and being a surgeon who nevertheless has all this free time). It has something to say about stalker culture, presenting Mary as the girl everyone lusts after, who is then very poorly treated by men. I don't think it's right to say Ben Stiller's character is such a stalker (barely more than the 90s equivalent of looking his high school crush on Facebook), but other men try to trick her into bed, including the P.I. who found her for Stiller (Matt Dillon) and then throws the Playbook at her. There's at least one too many stalkers in the lot whose behavior before the twist hardly sells it. But for the lafs, right? Sadly, my laf-meter didn't register at all. I found the comedy mostly tedious, and the romance more interesting.

[1999] Human Traffic: A lot like that Spaced episode where they go to the club, made around the same time, Human Traffic stars John Simm at his most "Master precursor" (in Cardiff, no less), playing one of five friends who can't wait to go out and get high on the weekend. Trainspotting for the chemical generation, taking us from anticipation to the ups, the paranoia and the downs of E culture, filtered through manic comedy. You never know when we're going to go full fantasy on a sequence and show what's imagined rather than happening, and though Simm is our narrator, the point of view tends to shift. I thought it was rather messy, but it might also be the point given the subject matter. It's like we're consistently in that Star Wars discussion from late in the party, an amphetamine-fuelled stream of consciousness heading for a crash. At the center of it is an actually sweet love story that hinges on Simm confronting his fear of sex, and that's what eventually won this straight arrow over.

[2000] Chocolat: Chocolate Foot Mousse. (Oh, if only I wrote one-phrase reviews, I'd get all the clicks!) There's a nice fairy tale vibe to Chocolat and the way it's told. In a small conservative town in 1959 France, Juliette Binoche opens a chocolaterie at the start of Lent. It doesn't go down well with the Patriarchy, but her confectionery has certain "magical" powers (in a Water for Chocolate kind of way, but anchored in South American culture) that start fixing what this tranquil world didn't want to admit was broken. Even painting the Roma as "river rats", though it feels like erasure of a sort, softens the story into a folk tale. Great cast (aside from Johnny Depp who I can't stand and kind of blank when he's on screen) and an ultimately very sweet and charming story. Love the ending  and the message. And there's so much chocolate in the film, brown tones start looking edible as time goes by... the furniture, the mud, Binoche's hair... I'd eat it all! Now let me spin that Mayan wheel.