or, “The Silver Bowl of Dill-Flavoured Chips”: A spoiler-free mini movie review.
2 out of 5
“…there is a fear among studio executives…about some of the subject matter [of modern independent movies]. …everyone is going to films based on IP or something that’s very familiar, and that is the absolute antithesis of filmmaking…”
Sometimes, a great performance can elevate an under or over-written character in a film (Hilary Swank in “Ordinary Angels”). Other times, a well-written role – or interpretive slate – is botched by a performer’s over/under-acting, or good suggestions potentially vetoed (Michelle Dockery in “Flight Risk”). And, once in a while, the wrong actor gives a misguided turn as a bland character.
Playing Black Widow may have connoted Scarlett Johansson as the perfect choice for “Jurassic World Rebirth’s” Lara Croft-esque heroine, but she’s ultimately miscast.
or, “A Big Studio Budget Retained for Payroll”: A spoiler-free mini movie review.
1 out of 5
Snow White 2025 is as much a product for consumer consumption as it is a snapshot of Disney’s current socioeconomic agenda – from Lion King’s Pride Rock in the background of their vanity card; to bookending sequences so similar to Beauty and the Beast’s you’d swear copycat if they didn’t both originate from the same company; to Dopey’s now-curable neurodivergence.
It attempts to redux the material as a feminocentric Robin Hood with a protagonist who’s ‘her own woman,’ but she’ll still drop everything to jubilate musically about her new White beau.
As the titular character, Rachel Zegler opts for the Queen of the High School Drama Department approach: she’s kinda hot and can carry a tune, but emotionally empty from crying about her now off-again boyfriend right before showtime. Watch her strain during the movie’s one big moment for her to act: like Zachary Levi’s recent dramatic try in The Unbreakable Boy, Zegler lacks the skill required to convincingly portray painful remorse. Go do some indies and get back to us.
In its scant ninety-minute running time, “Candyman 4” tries to be:
BOOM: a direct sequel to the original 1992 movie; BAM: a reimagining of the central villain & his lore (fans of late Tony Todd should look elsewhere: he cameos for 30 seconds as a visual bookend); C: a commentary on gentrification & a nouveau generation of Black yuppies; 4: a satire of the Chicago arts scene; – full-on body horror à la 1986’s “The Fly”; a rallying cry for ‘Black Lives Matter’;
and more I may have missed. It even employs a shadow-puppet aesthetic for its flashbacks in a quirky touch that wouldn’t be out of place in a Wes Anderson joint.
Phew! It’s a lot, but Candyman 4 isn’t done yet. Its themes draw parallels to “Pontypool”: a 2008 Canadian horror where miscommunication itself breeds zombies. C4 recontextualizes Todd’s Daniel Robitaille so that all instances of White-on-Black violence in Cabrini-Green fall under the discourse of ‘The Candyman’.
It’s a fascinating narrative pivot: probably the contribution of consistently-creative producer/co-writer Jordan Peele. The film is also wickedly shot, and certain set pieces independent of one-another do play well (the opening titles; the murder of two gallery owners; Yahya Abdul-Mateen II’s Anthony interacting with a reflection).
However, in corking Todd’s time with the series, C4 spoils the wine. Partial blame falls on director Nia DaCosta’s pacing, which recalls the extended takes & quiet character pensiveness of the most leisurely, self-aware 10-episode streaming series when she should be hitting us with the goods fast & hard to justify the short duration.
Other demerits go to poor Abdul-Mateen II who – between this, “Matrix 4”, and the DCEU reset – may have a hard time finding franchise work moving forward: his is an uninspired performance of a derivative hero’s journey.
For all the posturing of the neurotic, unlikeable one-percenter protagonists at the heart of the protracted first act, it, too, contributes nothing new to the discussion around the periodicity of racialized violence. Since C4 seems comfortable dropping references to the first film without context, viewers unfamiliar with the original will tell immediately where this story’s motives lie in its most meandering sections, and the heavy-handed finale.
Candyman 4 is guilty of overextending, but it gets a half-point for the chutzpah it takes to swing this hard and miss.
Poster sourced from impawards.com. The film’s script left me with plenty of leftover questions: why did Sherman choose to stay in the complex when he knew he was being targeted as a pedophile? Why did it take Anthony so long to go to the hospital with the bug bite, let alone have it noticed by his live-in girlfriend? What did underlining his father’s suicide have to do with anything? In the high school bathroom, why wasn’t the Black girl blamed for the deaths of the White girls, keeping in theme with the rest of the story? Have your say in the comments below!
“The Crow 2024” is metal: something I don’t think anyone expected.
Director Rupert Sanders doesn’t have a prolific filmmaking career, but he did helm 2017’s live-action “Ghost in the Shell”, which wasn’t terrible, and his Crow reboot isn’t terrible either, despite taking two years after shooting to show up in theatres.
Delays like that could mean all sorts of things, usually negative: a lack of faith behind-the-scenes from the people with the money. Howbeit this is odd, since Crow – which started out as a comic series in the late-eighties – has bounced back a few times in media from the tragedy of Brandon Lee’s death while filming the first film adaptation.
How much of the property’s enduring popularity, then, can be attributed to the singular act of Lee’s passing, or the straightforward immediacy of the source material? Rewatching the 1994 film, I was taken aback by how out-of-place its comedic relief resonated – particularly in the pawn shop scene – at the expense of thematic consistency. I’ve never read the comic so correct me if I’m wrong, but those one-liners felt more like additions to coalesce with the Lee family idiom * than to move the plot forward in a congruent way.
In complete contrast, 2024’s Crow doesn’t have any tonal brevity: it’s as emo as the tattoos on Bill Skarsgård’s face, and that could be one piece to its ultimate box-office demise. The film is so committed to its core concept that there’s hardly any fun to be had for passive viewers.
If you can roll with that, Crow is as much solid, stand-alone, yet disposable entertainment as “Madame Web” was back in February: I submitted to Skarsgård’s charisma; the reliable Danny Huston as the antagonist; the script’s spiritual leanings; and the central romance with a convincing FKA twigs. Holding it back from first-class territory were a truncated courting montage – which could have been longer to increase my empathy for the heroes – and some lame CGI in the finale that made me long for the classic squib work of someone like Paul Verhoeven.
In the film, twigs calls Skarsgård “brilliantly broken”, and I believed it. It’s a testament, then, to everyone’s craft that The Crow’s sixth outing to the screen (including the TV series) didn’t end up as another wounded bird.
*see my review of Brandon’s “Rapid Fire” for supplementary impressions.
Poster sourced from impawards.com. Did you know that you can click on the posters in my recent reviews to link directly to the film’s IMDB page? Wicked Cool, and saves you from typing! Leave your suggestions for other unavailing accessibility options for the site in the comments below!
theory of a daskeman 