More Heroes Need This Sense Of "Wonder"

Stop the presses! After missing the mark with each new entry since Christopher Nolan's superlative "Dark Knight" trilogy, DC Comics can breathe a sigh of relief. In "Wonder Woman," their extended cinematic universe has finally gotten one right, restoring my faith in what a superhero movie can be and should be.

The visual aesthetic and stylized cinematography are notably similar to the recent DC titles -- for the sake of brand consistency, that likely won't change in any subsequent outings -- but the tone here is nowhere near as bleak or as gritty. "Wonder Woman" puts the brain and the heart back into the genre, reflecting the values of comic books' patriotic and humanitarian roots. The movie itself is something of a wonder. It achieves that elusive but ideal balance of entertainment and edification: action-packed but not repetitive, funny but not corny, and touching but not sappy. By placing its story and its characters ahead of the special effects and the battle sequences (don't worry, there are still plenty of both), this movie succeeds where its DC predecessors and other contemporary franchises have failed. "Wonder Woman" is the unwavering hero (and film) that the world needs right now.

Diana, the princess of the mythical Amazons who is destined to become Wonder Woman, leaves the sanctuary of her peaceful island kingdom when she discovers the horrors of World War I that are raging outside her paradise. This mingling of Greek mythology and historical fiction provides a ripe setting for Diana to flourish as a person of substance as well as a symbol of noble duty. The philosophical core of the film is her struggle to reconcile the nature of good and evil among mankind without sacrificing her message of hope. As Diana, Gal Gadot's fleeting minutes of screen time in "Batman v Superman: Dawn Of Justice" easily stole the show from its titular heroes, thanks to her magnetic confidence and commanding screen presence. "Wonder Woman" is unquestionable proof that she is capable of carrying an entire film.

Gadot infuses Diana with a perfect blend of intelligence, empathy, and courage that transcends her physical prowess. At no point does she become secondary to her male co-star (Chris Pine, finally showing some dramatic range). This is Diana's story through and through, aimed directly at all of the people in the audience -- men and women alike -- who cheered and applauded as she honorably vanquished her foes. Pay attention, Hollywood: viewers are overdue for positive representation of this magnitude. In an industry plagued by sexism, the merits and the success of "Wonder Woman" have the potential to turn the tide in generating more female-oriented mainstream filmmaking.

Thankfully, my biggest fear about the movie ended up being unfounded. Under the watchful eye of competent writer Allan Heinberg and assured director Patty Jenkins, Diana's body and abilities are never exploited or fetishized. The full reveal of the Wonder Woman costume takes its time to arrive, but it isn't a sexualized moment; rather, it's an empowering one that gave me genuine goosebumps. The thematic statement, as she dons this armor to defend her core beliefs on the front lines of a literal war zone, is undeniably profound. You won't find this level of emotional resonance in woman-fronted but ultimately lifeless (pun intended) action series like "Resident Evil" or "Underworld."

With the ensemble opus "Justice League" due in November, I sincerely hope that Wonder Woman doesn't get swept back under the rug among the glut of other characters and subplots. She offers more than enough integrity and inspiration to warrant future standalone adventures. If nothing else, at least she can fall back on her memorable instrumental motif, which was first utilized in "Batman v Superman" and also gets woven into this film's original score. By upgrading from the campy disco fantasia of her '70s TV theme song to a thrilling composition that manages to be both regal and primal, we know this isn't the Wonder Woman of yesteryear... but that's probably for the best. In this epic, big-screen iteration of the character, Diana is more believably poised to triumph over any kind of adversity.


Ironically, some of the film's finest moments involve Diana's introduction to "modern" society and its dated principles. This juxtaposition cleverly mirrors how much our culture still has left to learn, and how much we need heroes like Wonder Woman to teach us.

Which Is "Witch"?

Oh, "Blair Witch." I really wanted to like you more than I did. In all fairness, any movie that provided a direct continuation of the cinematic breakthrough that was 1999's "The Blair Witch Project" would be subject to almost unbearably high expectations. It's the quintessential tough act to follow: a sequel that's both familiar enough and innovative enough to fit in and stand out at the same time. Plenty of part-twos have done exactly that: "The Godfather Part II," "Aliens," "Terminator 2: Judgment Day," "The Dark Knight." Despite its best efforts, "Blair Witch" just doesn't fit the bill.

It's crucial for any film, especially one that strives for greatness, to know itself and its purpose. Unfortunately, this one becomes too painstakingly self-aware to fully immerse the audience in the thrills and chills that slowly unfold. Much like the intrepid documentarians who went missing in the first film, we know from the outset that this latest crew is doomed -- but in a failure of dramatic irony, we aren't as invested in the how or the why. By struggling in vain to respect its roots without satisfactorily deepening its already murky mythology, the new "Blair Witch" never quite recaptures the unprecedented experience that defined its forerunner and cemented its undeniable impact on filmmaking and pop culture at large. The original stealthily goes bump in the night, while the sequel is blatantly pop goes the weasel.

"Project" was able to function as both a movie and a multimedia sensation. Ahead of its release, the studio capitalized on the burgeoning ubiquity of the Internet to create what was arguably one of the first viral marketing campaigns. Inspired by the found-footage format used in the film, interviews and dossiers were fabricated along with missing-person posters, blurring the lines between fact and fiction as word-of-mouth buzz frantically tried to determine if the case was real. Rampant curiosity translated to record-breaking box office figures; in fact, it's still the highest-grossing independent film of all time when comparing its budget to its earnings. This unexpected success led to a follow-up film the next year, but "Book Of Shadows" suffered from its quick turnaround and standard narrative format. Rather than furthering the established story, it involved characters who watched "Project" and wanted to see where its events allegedly happened. (Fans, just like the new movie, pretend that "Shadows" doesn't exist.)

"Blair Witch," teased for months as a generic horror film called "The Woods" before the surprise revelation of its lineage at San Diego's Comic-Con, picks up years after the fateful events of the original. This gimmick, though an unbelievably well-kept secret, only benefitted the movie promotionally rather than encouraging today's more tech-savvy viewers to research its authenticity. In this era of social media and knee-jerk fact-checking, surely the studio could have come up with something bolder than a name change to herald its release. Alas, we're all too aware from the get-go that what we're about to see is just a movie, and the element of plausible fear goes right out the window. James, the younger brother of missing filmmaker Heather, has spent his life searching for clues about what really happened to her and her crew. An online video surfaces that offers a substantial lead, so James and his friends venture into those infamous woods to see what they can find.

Their discoveries are a mixed bag that pull the film toward nowhere and everywhere. The evolution of personal technology in the 17 years since "Project" means that each of the protagonists are carrying various recording devices, so we see events happen from other angles instead of just what James sees. The result is too polished; the restraint that made "Project" so effective -- feeling like you're really there because you're limited to one camera's point of view -- is missing. By imposing frantic, abrupt editing between perspectives, the suggested novelty of recovered footage evaporates. In my mind, the only way that these multiple cuts would have been acceptable is if some of them caught things that the others didn't, lending an eerie, unreliable air to what's really happening. Most movies, especially those driven by suspense, tend to allegorize technological products as humanity's foolish attempt to outsmart the unknown, but "Blair Witch" barely does anything to deploy clever thematic shocks. While I'm glad (and slightly horrified) to finally know what those pesky wooden stick figures represent, the only instance of digital ingenuity is an unsettling sequence where a character uses the camera to see what's behind her as she is forced to slowly, quietly walk backwards in the dark.

Elsewhere, opportunities to drum up genuine scares are squandered. "Project" adopted a realistic, less-is-more approach to building its tension, but "Blair Witch" goes too big and too obvious too quickly. The original film prided itself on not showing any blood or violence on screen, instead allowing our imaginations to fill in the blanks. Here, we get several images that, though fleeting, could have been depicted more tactfully to sow the seeds of psychological and visceral discomfort over time. Ultimately, this movie works best at its primal, fight-or-flight core, when the cinematography is reduced to just one of the remaining vantage points for a relentlessly claustrophobic finale. It's an adequate delivery, especially after too many disconnects early on, but it still can't shake the persistent deja vu that haunts the rest of the film. We've seen it before and we've seen it done better, but we still want to see if maybe we're wrong about where it's heading. Sadly, the destination isn't worth the many missteps of the journey.

Despite the open ending and unresolved questions, a third (technically fourth) "Blair Witch" movie doesn't seem likely. This one's unexpectedly low box-office tally, especially compared to the merits of its predecessor, should give the studio pause. The public wasn't given anything substantive to latch onto ahead of time, so they didn't show up to participate in the mystery. As with the previous attempts to expand the franchise through books, comics, and video games, nothing will ever be able to match, let alone top, the qualities that epitomize "Project" in the annals of film history. There's a fine line between artistic ambiguity for the sake of the story and commercialized ambiguity for the sake of a guaranteed green light to develop the next chapter. At the rate they're going, maybe the Blair Witch doesn't want her story told after all...

Girl Power Rules The Big Screen

Insecure men, beware! Women took charge and wore the pants at the multiplex this summer. Two major comedies featured primarily female casts, and they showed us that there's nothing left to prove when it comes to ladies leading the way.

The reboot of "Ghostbusters," despite what all those immature online haters would have you believe, walks the fine line between nostalgia and reinvention but emerges unscathed. The new movie knows that the 1984 original is by no means broken, so they weren't trying to fix it. Instead, it's a new story with new characters that just happens to incorporate the now-famous ghost-hunting tools without feeling like a lifeless retread. The four leads (Leslie Jones, Melissa McCarthy, Kate McKinnon, and Kristen Wiig) are all perfectly cast, bringing both charisma and depth to these new personalities. This revamped team isn't just female versions of their male counterparts; both the script and the actresses are wise to avoid coasting. By giving them unique qualities and mannerisms, they become well-rounded people and ultimately heroes. In an unexpectedly hilarious supporting turn, Chris Hemsworth threatens to steal the show as the well-meaning but dim-witted receptionist, allowing the movie to make some spirited jabs at onscreen objectification.

Thankfully, the film doesn't ignore its roots, gleefully acknowledging the original entry with plentiful cameos and references to appease those reluctant fans. That said, this is still a different "Ghostbusters" for a different time. A lot has changed in the 30-plus years since the first movie was released, both in filmmaking and in the world at large. This installment's broader humor and reliance on digital effects are clearly compensating for the need to appeal to a much wider audience. I maintain that even having another male-dominated cast would have been met with the same amounts of skepticism, pressure, and expectations. Those involved with the original film couldn't possibly have known right away that it would earn a place in the pop-culture pantheon or become so integral to a whole generation of moviegoers. This time around, the sentimental value places that bar a lot higher, but a genuine reverence for that value is what sets this loving remake apart from the parade of uninspired deja vu that's been plaguing theaters lately.

"Absolutely Fabulous" also has a legacy to preserve, with its own inception going back to its first TV episodes in 1992. Across five seasons and several interim specials, the misadventures of Edina (Jennifer Saunders) and Patsy (Joanna Lumley) have become iconic across multiple demographics. We can all agree that while they're hardly role models, it's refreshing to see two individuals of any gender be so unabashedly human, flaws and all. That's what has kept them relatable and relevant for so long, and the big-screen treatment is very kind to their endearing antics. Saunders and Lumley are as game as ever to revisit this world; their physical embodiment of Edina and Patsy's exasperated quirks and tics, right down to how they walk and carry themselves, is still spot-on and true to their characters. Some of the best punchlines in the film, just like the series, are completely nonverbal and delivered with a perfectly pithy look, gesture, or stance.

Even more impressive is how many others they persuaded to play along after all this time. As a testament to its staying power, the entire cast is on board for the latest outing, including a majority of the recurring guest stars and a veritable who's-who of celebrity cameos. The movie is beautifully shot across many exotic locations (it could easily double as a postcard or tourism brochure for southern France), and there are numerous homages to classic farces like "Some Like It Hot." There's even a chance that the outrageous fashions on and around our ersatz heroines could walk the awards season runway with nominations for costume design. Since the film was written and directed by women and features an entire core cast of women, it may be time to come up with a Bechdel-type test that identifies behind-the-scenes participation in addition to the existing criteria for onscreen representation. It's a brave new world for filmmaking... if the industry can swallow its pride and grow up.

Ironically, "Ghostbusters" had to push forward in spite of the fans, while "Absolutely Fabulous" is an obvious love letter that wouldn't exist without its fans. Yet they're both adaptations of previously existing material, which demonstrates the double-edged sword of fandom in show business. Since both films seem to be launch pads for new franchises, their success shouldn't have to be classified as women playing a men's game. These women -- and in turn, these movies -- are rewriting the rules of the game so that anyone can play, and everyone's invited to the fun. No party-poopers allowed!

Declare Your Own "Independence"

When you try to set up a friend on a date, and you're not sure how well they're going to get along with the other person, we've all used that classic line: "But they have a good personality!" When it comes to movies, the best I can say about the well-meaning but ultimately misguided "Independence Day: Resurgence" is that it does have some personality. If you're a fan of the first film from 1996, there's still enjoyment to be found, but the overall effect of this entry won't hold up nearly as well in the big picture. Here are some attributes, both good and bad, to consider before agreeing to a date with "Resurgence."

It's reasonably intelligent. The plot, as simplistic as it is, delves deeper into the mythology of the aliens and what they're really up to in the universe (naturally, setting up a potential new franchise for 20th Century Fox along the way). At the same time, it was nice to see a sci-fi adventure movie at least attempt to respect the laws of physics, especially with regard to the gravity of a much larger alien ship and the wider-scale havoc that it would surely wreak.

It's kind of funny. Without the megawatt charisma of Will Smith (whose character died in the time between these stories), "Resurgence" leans heavily on the considerable charms of survivors David and Julius Levinson (Jeff Goldblum and Judd Hirsch), who bring their quirky family dynamic to the proceedings. Along with the return of Brent Spiner's Dr. Okun, who wakes up from a coma after his alien encounter in the original movie, it's their awkward but endearing neuroses that keep the movie from taking itself too seriously.

It has decent values. The film's emphasis on family and sacrifice is incredibly noble, so it becomes easier to suspend your disbelief at some of the wilder moments. "Resurgence" also earns major points for its elevation of Okun from a one-note kook in the first film to a more developed supporting role. The movie's inclusively nonchalant treatment of his sexuality, as well as the racial diversity of the cast, is truly unique for such a big-budget project. Hopefully, it's a sign of things to come. There's even a female president who gets to exercise power and make tough decisions instead of being used as a bland figurehead to look "hip." Pretty progressive stuff, Hollywood! Now give us more of that, please... and less of whatever the hell those "Fast & The Furious" movies think they're accomplishing.

However...

It's surprisingly dull. For a movie that runs just about two hours, it sure feels longer. The nimble pace and spirit that made its predecessor so successful is largely absent here, which is a big surprise given that director and co-writer Roland Emmerich had the same duties for the sequel. Even worse is that other than Goldblum, Hirsch, and Spiner, the remaining survivors (including previous lead Bill Pullman as ex-President Whitmore) are given very little to do in service of a whole new cast of arguably unnecessary characters. These needless additions are worst personified by Liam Hemsworth (who basically plays the same version of himself in every movie). Why did he get top billing over Goldblum and the rest of the actors? Presumably to draw in the younger crowds, but I digress.

It's uninspired. Hemsworth's character regularly pulls both focus and dialogue away from the person who should have been the sequel's focal point: Jessie Usher, who plays the son of Smith's character. Their roles should have been reversed to make Usher the star; then Smith's heroic legacy would have carried over more directly, in a way that memorializing places with his name doesn't quite capture. Above all, it just would've been more appropriate to the tone of the story to see a black actor (like Smith before him) as the hero who leads others into the fray. And don't even get me started on the presence of and epic battle with the queen alien. It felt so derivative of another big Fox property -- James Cameron's 1986 sequel "Aliens" -- that I kept waiting for the deus ex machina to arrive in a bright yellow power loader. Instead, there's a bright yellow school bus involved (don't ask...)

It tries too hard. Sequels tend to go for a bigger-is-better approach to filmmaking to keep their audiences invested, but this one backfires. The original "Independence Day" was a true blockbuster of the modern era that joined riveting, unprecedented destruction with genuinely heartfelt triumph. This combination has since been repeated but never quite replicated in the new wave of disaster titillation that followed, including Emmerich's own titles "The Day After Tomorrow" in 2004 and "2012" in 2009, not to mention anything in Michael Bay's filmography. Meanwhile, the Oscar-winning visual effects from the first movie are put into overdrive and overkill this time around. The result is unfortunate, especially where the aliens themselves are concerned. Their increased presence in this chapter of the story means there are more of them to be brought to life beyond just their ships, but the original's use of blended animatronics will always be more effective than the rushed, sloppy CGI work on display here. Finally, the protracted climax of the film just piled on the action to the point of me wanting to tune out. In one unintentionally brilliant moment, the stop sign from the aforementioned school bus breaks off and flies toward the screen. That sign should have been read more carefully by Emmerich and company, perfectly summing up my thoughts on the excessive, overindulgent finale.

In the end, what makes "Resurgence" worth your time and saves it from irreversibly sliding into utter failure is its post-9/11 political subtext. The War of 1996 -- as the events of the first movie are called in that universe -- was instrumental in uniting the world by putting an end to our own conflicts. For the record, it would probably take longer than 20 years to rebuild that level of widespread devastation and fully integrate helpful alien technology into key areas of our infrastructure (mainly architecture, transportation, and defense). But a powerful and invaluable sentiment remains: especially in these divisive times of overwhelming unrest, standing together amid global struggles can still encourage humanity to aim for its peaceful best.

"Neon Demon" Lights Up The Art Of Cinema

In the vicious cycle of envy and vanity, which came first? Are people vain because others envy them, or are people envious because of vanity's perceived benefits? This is a question, along with many others, raised by the colorful and controversial thriller "The Neon Demon." The film gives new meaning to keeping up appearances, diabolically satirizing the byproducts of modeling (most pointedly, body image) with razor-like precision. It's a story that's been told many times before -- a young woman, Jessie, moves to L.A. to follow her dreams and discovers their true cost -- but it's never been told quite like this. Fueled by lurid psychology and hauntingly poetic imagery, "The Neon Demon" is a beautiful movie about the ugliness of human nature.

The film's numerous artistic merits place its director, Nicolas Winding Refn, on par with other modern auteurs like Darren Aronofsky, Brian De Palma, and David Lynch. Refn paints "Demon" with a sumptuous visual palette that you literally can't look away from, even during the opening and closing credits. The uses of light and color are exquisite, ranging from near-blinding saturation in scenes where all eyes are on Jessie, to ethereal disorientation in scenes where your own eyes struggle to process the muted frames. These techniques illustrate the moods of the film and the desires of its characters above and beyond other cinematic endeavors in recent memory. In addition, the movie's sublime, immersive soundtrack was provided by composer Cliff Martinez (who contributed an equally stellar score for Refn's 2011 hit "Drive"). The images and the music are effectively paired as the heartbeat and pulse of the story, seamlessly thrusting forward all of its nonverbal tension. Not since Air's compositions for 2000's "The Virgin Suicides" has a contemporary film score felt so vivid and essential. I wouldn't be surprised if the movie garners several technical nominations when award season rolls around, particularly in the art direction, cinematography, and sound categories.

Despite all of its gorgeous trappings, "Demon" would be an empty exercise without key players to carry out its destiny. At only 18 years old, lead actress Elle Fanning is wise enough beyond her years to capture Jessie's tragic allure and aloof naïveté but still remain sympathetic. Her formidable ability to communicate so much range and depth with glances and facial expressions, especially during the photo shoots, is almost intimidating. After roles in 2011's "Super 8" and 2014's "Maleficent," Fanning's first foray into a more mature and demanding role is breathtakingly honest and vulnerable work to rival any other actress in-the-making. Casting a bigger name in the role would have defeated the purpose of the character: witnessing the birth of an ingenue and beholding her ascent.

The other actresses, Bella Heathcote and Abbey Lee, bring an icy edge to their parts as established models who are threatened by Jessie's instant success. Their competitive streak suggests the "dangerous blonde" motif of which film noir was so fond, but they take it to the next level with intentional self-awareness. There are no bimbo models to be found here; instead, these shrewd, calculating femme fatales are in control and will stop at nothing to stay that way. Meanwhile, the cast's secret weapon is Jena Malone, who plays makeup artist Ruby with a calm, confident presence that belies her task to deliver some of the movie's biggest surprises. Her chillingly downplayed scenes in front of mirrors, as she slowly touches up her assorted tones and shades, are a twisted version of donning armor in the battle against her own insecurities and the judgments of the world at large.

Rounding out the cast are stars like Christina Hendricks (from AMC's critically acclaimed series "Mad Men") and the one and only Keanu Reeves, but their screen time is limited to a small handful of scenes that still manage to pack a wallop. Hendricks only appears in one extended sequence as an agent at Jessie's modeling agency, and while it would have been nice to see her do more, she adequately provides a brief voice of reason. This agent may be a corporate woman who prioritizes the business, but at least outwardly, she still has values and hasn't lost her way like the others. At the same time, less of Reeves would have been welcome. His motel owner character is thoroughly despicable and involved in some truly unfortunate scenarios, performed convincingly enough to make you forget his typically laughable "whoa..." demeanor. 

These two people are joined by others who glide in and out of the scenery with little fanfare -- a well-meaning suitor, an unyielding photographer, a pretentious designer. It's not lazy or shallow writing; they all act as placeholders who are deliberately treated as disposable on Jessie's misguided path to stardom. Their minimal involvement also establishes a predominantly female perspective among the main characters, which is authenticated by the participation of Refn's co-writers Mary Laws and Polly Stenham. "Demon" could pass the infamous Bechdel test; its women don't talk about men as much as other depictions of models have done. Rather, they understand the elusive power that they hold and consider it their currency. By dissecting that sway in their industry and in society, the film offers some profound insights about the undue pressures that are forced on women. I stop short of calling the movie feminist empowerment, but it's certainly a provocative cautionary tale that feels especially timely in the wake of unrelentingly vacuous "celebrities" on social media.

The disturbing final act, though undeniably hard to watch, resonates beyond just mere shock value. Audiences will undoubtedly find it divisive (about a dozen people walked out of the screening I attended), but it's a barometer for how much they really "get" what the filmmakers are trying to accomplish. Sure, the closing scenes could have easily been depicted with a little more restraint, but it just furthers the study in contrasts that the film was presenting all along (albeit more graphically). It's only then that "Demon" begins to approach the gratuitous and the grotesque, even dipping a toe into them, but the movie never fully submerges into exploitation because it's grounded in its message. 

There is no actual demon to speak of, neon or otherwise, except for the one that humanity has made. Our collective fixation on beauty and perfection -- our obsession with them and elevation of them -- is a doomed pursuit, most clearly evidenced by the erotically-charged centerpiece of the film. As Jessie prepares to walk the runway as the final model (the highest honor) in her very first fashion show, she is confronted by a vision and a deep awareness of her potential. All she has to do is surrender to the false idolatry of self above others. In that defining moment, who among us would truly be able to resist such primal temptation? We have all been that demon, and new monsters are created every day when we allow ourselves to focus on the trivial, the material, and the external.

A title like "The Neon Demon" sums up the film perfectly: a brilliantly brutal metaphor about the corruptive and consumptive nature of fame, as well as the desperate lengths that people are willing to go for even the most fleeting taste. Icarus lost his wings by flying too close to the sun, and the same can be said about young angels who stand too close to the spotlight.

Marvel Vs. Marvel At The Movie Theater

Marvel has a civil war on its hands. The battle facing their own movie franchises is as complicated in the boardrooms of Hollywood as it is in the storied pages of their comics. Barely a decade ago, Paramount had the film rights to Iron Man, Thor, and Captain America; Universal had The Hulk; Sony had Spider-Man; and Fox had the X-Men, the Fantastic Four, and Daredevil. Today, Fox is the only stubborn holdout, relinquishing Daredevil to Netflix in serialized form but refusing to bow down like the rest to Marvel Studios (a.k.a. Disney) in the almighty arena of the movie theater. Never has this been more obvious than the mere weeks between the releases of Marvel's "Captain America: Civil War" and Fox's "X-Men: Apocalypse." Both movies are aiming for box-office gold with top-notch production values, solid acting, and storylines with catastrophic stakes. However, as they set out to prove themselves worthy of their studios' ongoing investment, their separate personalities start to meld into a collective worldview.

"Civil War," like its 2014 predecessor "The Winter Soldier," doubles as a crowd-pleasing superhero blockbuster and an insightful political thriller. Directly connected to the other Marvel films by picking up in the aftermath of the Avengers' previous world-saving efforts, "Civil War" asks us to consider the tangible cost of heroism -- in diplomacy, dollars, and even dead bodies. It pushes the characters to realistic breaking points and back again as they try and fail to reconcile a grim reality. Both sides of the argument are right, but they aren't built to handle that kind of ambiguity, especially in Captain America's patriotic, black-and-white mentality. As always, the character banter is impeccable, with an earned hint of resentment to prove that these heroes are still human behind their tireless, thankless deeds.

Meanwhile, the introductions of Black Panther as well as Spider-Man (Marvel's victory lap around Sony) establish promising future stories but threaten to overcrowd the present one. "Civil War" could have easily been 20 to 30 minutes shorter and still landed all of its plot points. Thankfully, the action sequences are gripping and raw enough to keep things moving. The absence of Steadicam takes us, admittedly off-kilter, right into the fight, and the visual effects aren't distractingly computerized. Oddly, though, the film climaxes twice, like an insecure lover trying to woo and impress impatient summer moviegoers. We get a big clash within the Avengers, then what feels like an eternity later, we get close-quarters combat between Captain America, Iron Man, and Cap's ultimate frenemy Bucky. The first fight is purely physical -- a frantic orgy of action for the masses -- but it's the second fight that packs a more intimate and psychological punch, baring the movie's mind and soul.

The weight of the soul in "X-Men: Apocalypse" is more heavily burdened and tested. The film does offer welcome moments of levity; once again, as with his scene-stealing turn in 2014's "Days Of Future Past," the snarky Quicksilver saves the day in a clever, effects-laden sequence that breaks the tension beautifully. Elsewhere, the movie's not afraid to get dark. I mean, REALLY dark -- nightmarish visions, children in danger, character deaths, and entire cities being laid to waste -- but that authenticity, set against the cultural growing pains of the 1980s, rings truer to the saga's complexities. I may be overly critical, having grown up reading the "X-Men" comics and watching the '90s animated series. But seeing a gargantuan story arc like "Apocalypse" squeezed into a single movie (when it took numerous issues/episodes of the source material) just seems wasteful. Even when minor liberties are taken with the canon and which characters appear when, it risks the continuity of any subsequent storytelling in the same universe. It would be a win-win for the producers to be more faithful to the origins and also trust open-minded audiences, fans and casual viewers alike, to follow their lead.

"Apocalypse" misses another opportunity to lead by being the latest in an increasingly weary trend of super-ensembles that are bursting at the seams. The film does manage to provide great service to existing characters by filling in some of their gaps, especially with Jean Grey, whose younger presence here is far more satisfying than her appearances as an adult in the first three installments. (If you're a fan of the franchise mythology, you'll really appreciate what she accomplishes and anticipate her next move.) Unfortunately, the movie ends up neglecting many of the characters that help this new entry exist in the first place. Apocalypse is treated more like an inciting incident than an overarching villain, while the youthful versions of commanding figures like Storm and Angel get just enough exposition to be recognized when they show up to fight. Olivia Munn, who plays henchwoman Psylocke, has remarked that she turned down the role of Vanessa in the recent smash "Deadpool" because she didn't want to be reduced to "the girlfriend." Yes, Psylocke is intimidating and even trades blows, but this version of her character -- potentially significant down the line depending on which direction the next films will take -- appears out of thin air and barely has any dialogue. At least Vanessa got some screen time and traded witty, on-par barbs with Deadpool!

Overall, you can't entirely blame director Bryan Singer for trying, since he did helm the franchise's strongest entries with "Past" and 2003's "X2: X-Men United." Despite all of the movie's quibbles, Singer possesses a latent power of his own for masterful details. He embraces the meta influence of the films when several students are shown leaving "Return Of The Jedi" at the mall. Their cheeky opinions on its place in that series form a sly, thinly veiled ranking of the previous X-Movies in this series. Singer also employs the opposite end of the spectrum, reclaiming a controversial scene involving Auschwitz with magnificent emotion and elegant action. "Apocalypse" cements him as the go-to director for framing the very real atrocities that birthed these fictional beings.

Here's where things get interesting; the tone and scale of each film cause them to diverge, but the shared message of the films makes them converge again. "Civil War" is more character-focused and straightforward in its parallels to current events, while "Apocalypse" is more content to allegorize a spiritual and societal construct like the end of the world and populate it with fantasy characters and scenarios. Yet at the same time, these movies find more in common when it comes to illustrating the foundations of Marvel's social philosophy. Where they see eye-to-eye is what happens to people -- whether or not they're members of the same team, whether or not they have special abilities -- when they don't work together for the greater good. These cornerstones of belief and humanity make both movies uniquely Marvel, regardless of who produced them. It also reminds us that DC's late-start task of rivaling their scope and interconnection is exponentially more daunting.

At the end of the day, Marvel needs to protect their creative integrity and do something that's been eight years in the making, back to when the first "Iron Man" movie laid the groundwork for their franchise as we know it. They're certainly not hurting for the cash! I'm no legal expert, but shouldn't it be as simple as paying Fox whatever it costs to bring the rights to their prodigal characters under the same production umbrella? Only then can the Marvel Cinematic Universe and its extended properties truly be unified in the way that these stories deserve to be told on the big screen.

"Hush" Rides A New Wave Of Smart Horror

Most scary movies being made today aren't really that scary. They rely on cheap thrills, awkward laughs, and too much blood and guts to be taken seriously. Even the rise of found-footage thrillers -- first popularized by 1999's "The Blair Witch Project" and later revived in 2007's "Paranormal Activity" -- quickly abandoned their initial promise of innovative fright by mindlessly recycling tired horror tropes.

In the last few years, however, independent films have ushered in a new wave of what I like to call "smart horror." Yes, there are still supernatural forces to be reckoned with and villains that need to be vanquished (or at least faced). But instead of the endless onslaughts from the Freddys, Jasons, and Michaels -- who lost all credibility when they were sequeled to death -- smart horror uses its primal, psychological themes to create a more lasting fear that buckets of corn syrup just can't match. It's one thing to be afraid of the boogeyman, but it's more unsettling to be afraid of why that boogeyman exists.

Following in the recent footsteps of critically-acclaimed genre offerings like "Creep," "The Babadook," and "It Follows," "Hush" is a lean, mean, smart-horror machine. The film debuted in March at the SXSW Film Festival, where it was acquired by Netflix and released via streaming in April. Clocking in at barely 80 minutes from fade in to fade out, "Hush" tells the story of a woman alone at home who is being stalked by a masked killer. Sound familiar? Think again! This movie wastes no time in ejecting the cliches and standard plot mechanisms to create a refreshingly original and disturbing work of horror cinema.

Plenty of movies try to reinvent or reinvigorate their genre, but few actually succeed. First and foremost, "Hush" is surprisingly empowering for an industry that treats women as disposable and marginalizes people who are differently-abled. Our heroine, Maddie, is deaf. Rather than having her condition become her downfall, or worse, a joke (like the borderline-insensitive Deaf Taylor Swift character in the first episode of Fox's "Scream Queens"), her situation is legitimately explored as she is forced to adapt her fight for survival. That realism, courtesy of Kate Siegel's potent screenplay and her bravura performance as Maddie, is largely what makes "Hush" work.

There's no suspension of disbelief required; instead, the chills are genuine because we experience how such an ordeal would actually play out for someone like Maddie... and in turn, how it could even happen to any of us under other circumstances. Long stretches of the film have little if any dialogue, and at times, the sound is strategically removed. There's also an inspired sequence of fight-or-flight deliberation that catches you off-guard with its panic factor and shock value in a movie that already prides itself on delivering the unexpected. Yes, some gore is visible, but only an amount that's absolutely necessary to tell the story, and it's all medically accurate (no red geysers here!) These details put the audience right in the main character's shoes, which is what every horror director should aspire to for maximum investment in what's happening on the screen.

This deeply rooted connection to Maddie's plight would have been enough to set the movie apart from its contemporaries, but "Hush" throws away the map and takes a few of the roads less traveled. When the killer first looks through Maddie's window and slowly realizes that she's deaf, there's the faintest sign of hesitation or even remorse for what he plans to do. In any other movie, she'd probably be dead right away and he'd be on to the next victim. He even takes off the mask to bond with her (in his own twisted way), as if to prove that he's a flesh-and-blood human and not some unkillable monster, daring her to challenge him.

As the killer continues to toy with Maddie, threatening to only enter the house once she gives up hope, we learn next to nothing about this man. Not his name, not his backstory or motive -- just that he's there and he needs to be stopped. Maddie rises to the occasion, of course, but it could be argued that the randomness of the killer's presence is a metaphor for all the nameless, faceless evils that exist in the world and how we choose to fight back. And what better forum is there to grapple with the daily perils of society than a horror movie?

Understandably, some of the suspense evaporates when the killer finally makes his move, but the film still generates intensity right up until its final frames. By using point-of-view and tracking shots throughout to subtly reveal the layout of the house, we're made subconsciously aware of the inevitable showdown without it being any less cathartic. That release of tension is certainly earned, and the overall experience of "Hush" sticks with you viscerally as well as intellectually. The movie is over, while life in this crazy, messy world goes on. You may not double-check the locks to keep out the boogeyman, but you do it anyway because he represents something out there that we don't want to think about. It takes smart horror like "Hush" to remind us of what it really means to survive.

"Everybody" Can Enjoy Linklater's Latest

There's a common thread in writer/director Richard Linklater's work: knowing yourself. His filmography moves effortlessly from the realistic poignancy of "Boyhood" and his "Before" trilogy ("Sunrise/Sunset/Midnight") to experimental titles like "Waking Life" and "A Scanner Darkly." Meanwhile, his well-developed characters share unique insights about life, regardless of genre -- dramatic, fantastic, or anything in between.

His latest movie, "Everybody Wants Some!!" (yes, with two exclamation points) is no exception. Revisiting the tone and themes of his defining early works -- 1991's "Slacker" and 1993's "Dazed And Confused" -- Linklater imbues "Everybody" with the same spirit and wisdom without copying them. Instead, it's a wholly original and equally significant contribution to his cinematic output. Don't let the dumb-jock, easy-joke vibe of the trailer fool you; the marketing belies the movie's emotional and interpersonal intelligence. Linklater takes an overdone premise (1980s college athletes on the weekend before school starts) and gives us something brawny with brains to match.

Sure, there's a dumb jock or two, but these characters are game to prove their mettle off the field as much as on it -- so much so that they don't even play baseball until an hour into the movie. "Everybody" uses the competitive nature of social lives, a shared house, and sports as a lens on the timeless masculinity crisis. These guys aren't just coming of age; they're coming to an understanding of how to be men by integrity, not by gender. The fact that Linklater can wring hearty laughs and sharp observations from those concepts proves his skill in painting vivid, slice-of-life portraits.

The talented young cast gives their all, priming them for bigger things. Watch for Blake Jenner, Glen Powell, and Zoey Deutch in the future. Based on Linklater's past collaborations, he knows up-and-coming stars when he sees them, and his movies are perfect skies for them to shine.

How Sally Got Her Groove Back

You'll like (really like) Sally Field as the title character of the offbeat, charming dramedy "Hello, My Name Is Doris." Despite leading the ABC series "Brothers & Sisters" and steady film work in smaller roles, Field hasn't headlined her own movie for a long time, so it's nice to have her back in the spotlight.

"Doris" finds our heroine facing a major transition: restarting her life after years of caring for her ailing mother. She inadvertently latches onto her younger coworker, John, played by Max Greenfield (wisely trading in his snarky "New Girl" affectations for a genuinely conflicted nice guy). They form an unexpected friendship that may hold something more. As Doris's family tries to force her to move on, we also see an amusing push-pull about what to do, courtesy of her best friend Roz (the always-delightful Tyne Daly) and Roz's teenage granddaughter. Naturally, Doris wants to find things in common with John, and the smart script goes for laughs not from the obvious age difference but rather from her accidental embrace by the hipster community. These trendsetters mistake her eccentric, everyday style as a statement of reclaimed vintage (so the joke's on them).

Field's comedic timing and dramatic chops are both still in fine form, and her facial expressions -- as endearing and exasperated as ever -- deserve shared billing. She usually plays outspoken, iron-willed and courageous women; as Doris, she builds a more quiet strength. Thanks to attentive directing and co-writing by Michael Showalter, Doris is never treated as flat nor as a caricature. Instead, Field breathes three-dimensional humanity into the performance, and I predict a nomination for her at all of the major film awards.

To top it off, we get a well-rounded supporting cast and an effective indie soundtrack. But does Doris get John? The ending is ambiguous, but the man isn't the point. Doris finally gets herself, and that's the most significant goal that she (and we) could ask for.

What Really Makes A Movie Successful?

The movie industry relies on an ideal balance of art and commerce. With two recent movies serving as the extreme ends of that spectrum, there are lessons worth considering for everything else in between.

The harsh minimalism of "The Witch" ranks it among the most unsettling horror films. Its premise is simple: an exiled colonial family is picked off one by one. The difference here is that everything feels authentically, tangibly fearful, from an ominous score and bleak cinematography to period-specific accents and dialogue. The movie also forms a treatise on the core of psychological thrillers: trust, paranoia, and loss of innocence. So why hasn't it found a larger audience? Critics rave about it, and it even won a directing award at Sundance. The short answer doubles as the sad truth: studios don't take as many chances on movies that make viewers think. Ironically, without the artistic integrity of independent film, there would be no barometer for cinematic achievement.

Meanwhile, the record-breaking "Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice" is DC's belated attempt to match Marvel's franchise. The movie is pure entertainment value, nothing more or less. It's not as bad as critics say (I've seen worse), but its artistic credentials begin and end with director Zack Snyder's trademark visual style. The story forced together threads from too many unrelated comic-book arcs, and its trailers spoiled many of its own surprises -- namely the big introduction to Wonder Woman. An actual highlight thanks to Gal Gadot's genuine screen presence, her role became anticlimactic in the grand, cluttered scheme of things. Worst of all, the film over-philosophizes about the nature of power and good versus evil but never commits to a side. Something's wrong with your heroes if Lex Luthor makes sense!

Ultimately, the industry will set its own course. However, the merits found in movies like "The Witch" and "Batman v Superman" should complement each other, not cancel each other out.

Fear Has A New Address

Conventional filmmaking wisdom says that showing is better than telling. "10 Cloverfield Lane" is a smart, thrilling exercise in how to invert that formula and generate unbearable suspense.

2008's "Cloverfield," told through found footage, follows a group of friends fleeing New York during a monster attack. The camera gives us immediate, unprecedented access to their efforts, making the hybrid of disaster movie and documentary feel unflinchingly real. In a compelling twist, this sequel is a quietly paced character study with new protagonists and a different setting. A car accident lands a young woman in the sealed underground bunker of doomsday fanatic Howard (played by John Goodman), who saved her from the wreckage to protect her from what's happening. So what IS happening, exactly? It could be the end of the world, or it could be Howard's extreme paranoia.

Goodman's recent work in the legal series "Damages" and indie films like "Red State" has a menacing edge that makes you forget he played Roseanne's husband on a network sitcom. Here, his riveting performance -- every blink, twitch, sigh, and clench -- keeps us on our toes about Howard's true nature. This interpersonal roulette acts as a microcosm for their collective anxiety about what's happening above them. The most impressive elements of "10 Cloverfield Lane" are the unnerving moments that it creates with so little dialogue. What's communicated with pauses and silences makes the tension almost deafening, especially during long, uncomfortably slow shots that lull you into a false sense of security. Exemplary sound effects and lighting also create a palpable dread, somehow making the bunker feel gradually smaller.

In the final moments of the film, our heroine makes a choice that all but guarantees a third installment. While the first movie had a distinct ending, this one closes with several lingering questions. The merits of this entry make me patient enough to wait for its dots to be connected.

Take A Watch On The Wild Side

Bolstered by its clever, character-driven marketing campaign, "Deadpool" is a refreshing antidote to most big-studio action movies. Yes, it's based on a comic book, but I hesitate to call it a superhero movie simply because Deadpool is just a guy with powers who tries to do the right thing -- often in the worst way possible. After a brilliant opening credits sequence, what's left of the fourth wall is regularly punctured by Deadpool's snarky, self-aware meta-commentary. Played with the perfect level of charismatic candor by Ryan Reynolds, "Deadpool" takes us on a crash-course through his origin story and fellow characters to firmly cement his place among the rest of the tamer Marvel Comics universe.

Much has been made of the film's R-rating, but despite the presence of language, sex, and violence, it's not a license for gratuitous exploitation. Instead, the film is true to the sharper edges of the character and the source material without resorting to the gross, immature giggles that have been dumbing down Hollywood action movies for years. The inevitable sequel appears to be setting up further, more obscure reaches of the Marvel mythology, but now we have proof that these are smart filmmakers who are in tune with fans and the audience at large. I'm sure Deadpool will hold up just fine on his own.

The Sound And The "Fury" Of Spoofs

Originally released this summer but new to Netflix, "Kung Fury" is a welcome blast to and from the past. This short, action-packed parody has more '80s-centric details than you can fit into a DeLorean.

Deliberate VHS image quality and over-the-top, arcade-style effects? Check. Melodramatic dialogue and period-specific choices, right down to the fonts and title screens? Check. The authentic original soundtrack (with a contribution from David Hasselhoff, no less) literally sounds like it was sent to us from the past. Possibly the best 30 minutes you'll see this year!

Meryl Gives "Ricki" The Rock It Needs

Meryl Streep could do something as boring as putting up wallpaper and she'd still find a way to make it riveting and meaningful on-screen. That's not being flippant; that's just being honest about the depth and range of her talents. Her latest film, "Ricki And The Flash," is a vehicle for Streep to give us yet another memorable performance. Unfortunately, the rest of the film is crushed under the weight of its own ambitions. Any success that the film finds is due in large part to Streep and her co-stars finding ways to elevate the material above its squandered potential.

In "Ricki," Streep plays a fading rock star who makes an awkward return to the family she left years ago in pursuit of her showbiz dreams. Ricki has charisma to spare, but it doesn't count for much when it comes to reconnecting with her children and her ex-husband (played by the reliably affable Kevin Kline), who summons her when their daughter gets divorced and has a breakdown. In an inspired and effective bit of casting, Ricki's daughter Julie is played by Streep's real-life daughter Mamie Gummer. Until recently, Gummer has only been seen in small roles in film and TV (notably as a shrewd lawyer on the CBS drama series "The Good Wife").

Thankfully, Gummer has made her own choices and proven herself to be talented in her own right, rather than distracting the audience by taking after a famous parent's style and mannerisms (I'm looking at you, Colin Hanks and Jaden Smith). Since this is Gummer's highest-profile role to date, you would expect a certain amount of presence regardless of whose daughter she's playing. An early sign of danger in the movie's structure is that as soon as Ricki and Julie have their requisite bonding session, we hardly see Julie again, despite the fact that her issues were the reason for Ricki's return. As cynical as it sounds, one nice day with Mom couldn't possibly have fixed all of her problems. Apparently, Julie's screen time was borrowed so that Ricki could confront the rest of her own demons.

Those demons come in the form of her ex-husband (Kline), his new wife (Broadway and TV star Audra McDonald), and Ricki's on-again/off-again romance with her bandmate (played by '80s heartthrob Rick Springfield). Kline and McDonald have each done substantial work on both stage and screen, so they know how to play big moments as small and vice-versa, but the movie gives them practically no opportunities to do so. The only prior acting I've seen from Springfield was a handful of episodes as a d-bag version of himself on Showtime's dark comedy series "Californication," but he lends genuine charm and sympathy to his scenes with Streep. The worst thing that can happen to a good actor is an incomplete character, and it seems like all of the supporting roles were sacrificed to bring Ricki to life. Every other part is so stereotypical that they're treated as placeholders instead of as people. Ultimately, the film will be remembered for Streep; otherwise, it feels severely imbalanced.

The difficulty of this balancing act falls squarely on Streep herself, and in true Meryl fashion, she is more than capable of rising to the challenge. Her gift of truly inhabiting her characters is on full display here; the vocal and physical energy she brings to Ricki makes her journey (however flawed) feel more authentic. In this role, Streep speaks in a lower, huskier register than usual, and she clears her throat a lot. Whether this is intended to be Ricki's nervous tic, evidence of vocal fry from her years of singing, or some of each, she sounds like a has-been celebrity who is on fire behind a microphone but fumbles without one. Streep also drops the elegance of her standard poise and posture to keep Ricki slouching and fidgeting, making her even more convincing as a career musician who can never quite stand still, literally or figuratively.

Streep's believability is further bolstered by her many contributions to the film's diverse and crowd-pleasing soundtrack. To be honest, I was surprised by the amount of music used in the movie, having expected only an opening number to show Ricki at work and a closing number to reflect what she's learned. Instead, we're given snippets throughout of Streep and the band performing at least 10 different cover songs that range from classic rock to modern pop. After solid work in the movie musicals "Mamma Mia" and "Into The Woods," her voice may not be perfectly suited to all of the songs featured here, but the deliberate cracks and flat notes continue her thoughtful efforts to develop the character.

The standout tune, unsurprisingly, was penned specifically for the film. "Cold One," co-written by indie darling Jenny Lewis, is vibrantly folky without losing its intimacy. I expect the track to receive original-song nominations from all of the major awards (Golden Globe, Oscar, and Grammy). Streep herself will almost certainly earn a Golden Globe nod in the musical/comedy category and will probably win, but I doubt the Academy Awards will look so favorably on her performance when considering the problem areas that sadly define the rest of this promising movie.

One of the first things to examine when weighing a film's pros and cons is an unflinching look at its script. Diablo Cody -- an Academy Award-winner for writing "Juno" and the creator of the Emmy-winning Showtime series "United States Of Tara" -- should have flinched less when working on this particular screenplay. "Juno" and "Tara" took common themes of family dysfunction and found angles to tackle them that were sharp, insightful, and most importantly, fresh. "Ricki" feels entirely too safe and predictable to take the mild peppering of winning one-liners or clever slang seriously. For a woman who's unapologetically gone toe-to-toe with the music business, Ricki -- and the film bearing her name -- has no bite or edge. Frankly, I'm shocked that Cody would put her own name on this, except to brag that she wrote a Meryl Streep movie.

Equally frustrating is the lack of guidance provided by director (and another Oscar winner) Jonathan Demme. His resume includes a potent mix of '80s comedies and '90s dramas -- notably the modern classics "The Silence Of The Lambs" and "Philadelphia" -- but even Demme doesn't seem to know how to classify or even approach the material. Moments that could have been genuinely funny (like the corporate satire of Whole Foods rip-off Total Foods, where radical Ricki works as a cashier) are missed in favor of more obvious punchlines elsewhere. Likewise, moments that could have been genuinely touching (like Ricki making good with her other children, especially the acceptance of her gay son) are glossed over and feel unfinished. This negligence is presumably to keep things moving, but moving toward what? In life, we don't always get closure, but in a movie that already has very few surprises, at least we should get a fully developed story arc.

"Ricki And The Flash," much like Ricki herself, suffers from a major identity crisis. Ricki as a character tries to be a star and a mother, and she struggles to achieve both; "Ricki" as a movie tries to be a comedy and a drama, but it fails to succeed as either. I would be very interested to know if there's a harder-hitting cut of the film out there somewhere, a version that really strives for one genre or the other, and the studio is just hiding it for whatever reason. As it stands, Streep and everyone else involved in this project deserve a better representation of their many collective strengths.

Schumer Conducts Lively "Trainwreck"

Anyone who has ever said that women aren't funny clearly isn't paying attention. We're in a renaissance of brilliant female actors, comics, and writers -- Lena Dunham, Tina Fey, Mindy Kaling, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Amy Poehler, Aisha Tyler, the list goes on -- who are standing their ground and showing men more than a thing or two about how to get laughs. (Hint: you have to EARN them, not just word-vomit a bunch of jokes and hope something sticks!)

Everyone should know by now that Amy Schumer is also funny, thanks to her insightful stand-up, her wicked jabs at celebrity roasts, and the pointed, feminist-oriented satire of her Emmy-nominated, Peabody-winning Comedy Central sketch series "Inside Amy Schumer." But by writing and headlining her first movie, the real question becomes two-fold: can she act, and is she comfortable sharing the spotlight?

The answer to both questions is a pleasantly surprising yes. "Trainwreck" takes us further inside Amy than ever before, with Schumer making light in interviews about how loosely the film is based on her own life. Fact or fiction, it's nice to see a comedy that shows how people in a relationship can help each other learn and grow, rather than only one person being "right" and forcing the other to change. Schumer has a broader dramatic range than the nature of her comedy would suggest, and she has given us a well-rounded debut screenplay that performs a delicate balancing act. Yes, it's big on laughs, but the movie (like its main character) hides a big heart without being gushy or overly sentimental, especially where her family interactions are concerned. It's rewarding to see her play a human being, flaws and all, rather than the alleged ideal of how a woman in this or any movie is "supposed to" behave. If I have one complaint, it's that director Judd Apatow ("The 40-Year-Old Virgin," "Knocked Up") gets a lot of great material out of his actors, but he doesn't always know when to call cut on a scene, bit, or running gag. "Trainwreck," an otherwise solid movie, ends up clocking in long for a comedy at 125 minutes.

Critical to any love story, humorous or otherwise, is the amount of chemistry between the leads. Schumer shares a comfortable yet dynamic rapport with Bill Hader, and their banter and comic timing -- perfectly honed from their respective years in the industry -- are absolutely endearing. It doesn't matter in the slightest that neither of them would be considered attractive by (misguided) conventional Hollywood standards, mainly because they are a supremely talented pair. The ups and downs of their relationship are exponentially more convincing as regular people falling in love, particularly when compared to the phoned-in facades of the Jennifers (Aniston or Lopez) and their interchangeable male counterparts. It's also incredibly refreshing to see a female lead who looks like she's actually eaten something this month. Like Melissa McCarthy and Rebel Wilson before her, Schumer is getting work not in spite of her figure, but because of it. By embracing herself and her body, she is sending a strong message to Hollywood: skinny girls are no longer the norm!

As great as the leads are, this is hardly Schumer's vanity project. She and Hader give the supporting characters their fair share of winning lines and moments. For all of the jokes made at the expense of athletes -- Hader plays a sports doctor and Schumer doesn't understand the appeal -- two such personalities offer memorable performances. John Cena is known for his tough-guy bravado as a WWE wrestler; as an early suitor of Schumer, he is amusingly self-conscious and shows an exaggerated sensitive side. Cena's movie theater meltdown during one of their dates is a revelation of his unexpected knack for comedy. Basketball player LeBron James is also cleverly cast as Hader's client and friend, playing a version of himself that doesn't enjoy his own fame or wealth. In most comedies, the role of dishy confidant is assigned to the female lead's friend/co-worker/neighbor/etc, but in a stealthy, gender-swapped maneuver, James delivers all of his doting, supportive dialogue with surprising aplomb. Bringing more A-list cred to an already stellar cast, Oscar winner Tilda Swinton shows up as Schumer's demanding magazine editor. In a hilarious, transformative turn (seriously: she looks, moves, and sounds like a totally different person), Swinton aces some of the film's most biting one-liners without overselling them. Eagle-eyed viewers can also catch plenty of cameos by stand-up stars and "Inside" regulars like Dave Attell, Mike Birbiglia, Bridget Everett, and Tim Meadows, as well as a few more appearances from the wide world of sports.

"Trainwreck" is ultimately a romantic comedy for discerning adults who don't mind a little raunch. More than likely, the film's frank discussions, bad habits, and awkward sexual encounters ring true from either your own experiences or those of close pals. Schumer comes across as the kind of well-meaning, troublemaker friend that you have, had in the past, or have been yourself. Among other attributes, it's her uniquely relatable screen presence that carries the movie above many of its contemporaries. The finale may be a tad predictable for some, but despite adhering to certain tenets of the rom-com genre, at least the movie gets there in its own forward-thinking way -- earning both its laughs and its happy ending.

"Jurassic World" Revives Extinct Franchise

Early in "Jurassic World" -- which has roared into theaters 22 years after the original "Jurassic Park" first hit the big screen -- one of the protagonists jokes that people aren't impressed by dinosaurs anymore because consumers want everything to be bigger. Luckily for viewers, the bigger-is-better mantra doesn't detract from what this movie accomplishes. A rare Hollywood intelligence is on display here: not just in the film's sci-fi roots about genetic modification and humans versus nature, but also in its reverence to and reinvention of "Park" and the previous (albeit lesser) sequels. "Jurassic World" is a textbook example of the perfect summer blockbuster: fun and thrills with a side of smarts.

"World" takes us to a time and place (22 years later, naturally) where the utter failures of the well-intentioned first park still sting, but not enough to keep The Powers That Be from trying again. In this fictional world, those failures have become the stuff of legend. Merchandise from the original venture are rare online finds that bring both bragging rights for the buyer and the scorn of colleagues who think the items are in poor taste. As for the park itself, business is booming, and operations manager Claire (Bryce Dallas Howard) is busy overseeing the upcoming launch of the latest attraction. A genetic hybrid, Indominus Rex, has been bred as the ultimate predator -- vicious AND intelligent -- but the lab's splicing and dicing has given the creature some unforeseen advantages over its creators. As Claire consults with park colleague Owen (Chris Pratt) about whether the world is ready for such an animal, Indominus makes its move... just in time for a visit by Claire's nephews.

Contrary to louder, dumber big-budget affairs like the recent "Transformers" franchise, "Jurassic World" succeeds in large part because it works on two important levels simultaneously. The first level, of course, is the nostalgia factor. Will a movie whose success is largely predicated by its own legacy and reputation be able to resonate with the generation raised on the original film while still appealing to the current crop of audience members? In this case, the answer is a resounding yes.

Though it continues the story started in "Park," "World" proudly blazes its own trail while staying true to the witty, nimble, and action-packed spirit of its forerunner. Passing mentions of John Hammond (the "spare-no-expense" entrepreneur behind the first park) and brief glimpses of the animated, talking DNA strand from the original film's tour guide video were rewarding chuckles for observant moviegoers. We aren't treated to a scene as memorable as a lawyer being eaten off a toilet, but all of our favorite dinosaurs are back for more carnage, and clever twists mean that their functions in the story are not as predetermined as they were the first time around. Full disclosure: I also got serious goosebumps when the now-iconic instrumental theme was heard for the first time. (Recurring motifs from John Williams' score are present, but they have been re-orchestrated slightly to fit with Michael Giacchino's new music.)

The second measure of success is the legitimacy factor. Is this a movie that can stand on its own merits when considered away from its franchise? The premise is so intrinsically linked to the earlier titles that it's harder to be objective. However, from the perspective of plot mechanics and technical achievement, the answer is a more qualified yes. Borrowing from the great tradition of slow-burn blockbusters like "Jaws," the movie takes its time building suspense through the introduction of characters and the exploration of its environment before really letting it hit the fan. In a much-appreciated touch of restraint, the Indominus conveys its enormity by rarely being shown in full at first, keeping the actors and their surroundings to an appropriate scale as they avoid (or fail to avoid) its teeth and claws.

Pratt gives us further proof of why he's the go-to young action star of the moment. His physicality and rugged charm carry the movie even when the dinosaurs steal the show. Howard is admittedly less convincing in her role, since her workaholic character struggles to be sympathetic and human even in these dire circumstances. I'm inclined to give her bonus points, though, for performing all of her running and rescuing stunts while wearing heels!

I particularly enjoyed the sly commentary about corporate intrusion on the natural wonder of the park. Though the entrance pavilion is full of prominent brands, stores, and chain restaurants (they even have a Starbucks!), the employees debate where to draw the line when it comes to sponsors naming the exhibits or even the dinosaurs themselves. Speaking of those dinosaurs (they are the real stars, after all), the movie itself is beautifully made. The 3-D presentation is detailed and immersive without looking overly processed, and the use of surround sound is incredibly effective in making you feel like you're right there on the island, down to every last dino-sized leaf rustle and footfall. The movie is truly a multi-sensory experience that demands to be seen in a theater.

Which brings me to my next point, probably the only significant contention that I have with the film. "Jurassic Park" was groundbreaking in the history of special effects, both at the time in 1993 and by today's standards. Its pioneering, award-winning use of CGI combined with stunningly lifelike animatronics made the far-fetched premise seem authentically possible. "Jurassic World" does employ many of the same techniques and still to great effect, but it leans a little too heavily on the computer-generated elements. The dinosaurs were much more fearsome when it looked like they were actually stomping in front of the camera rather than being more dots and pixels (however well-formed) in the foreground. "World" never strays into the wildly cartoonish CGI pitfalls of "Avatar" or the generally despised "Star Wars" prequels, but it does take away from that initial, awe-inspiring movie magic that will never be captured in quite the same way thanks to today's era of glorified digital cinematography.

By having just enough in common with its primary successor without retracing its steps, "Jurassic World" is the sequel that "The Lost World" (1997) and "Jurassic Park III" (2001) should have been. My chief concern in the film's conclusion, which leaves open the possibility for yet another sequel, is the direction that such a movie would take. While my theories about how a next chapter would hypothetically play out involve some pretty spoiler-heavy details, I can safely say that they would have to tread VERY carefully to avoid rehashing the mistakes of the other sequels. We've already seen the test run of the park fail, the alternate testing island was visited not once but twice, and now the operational park has failed. "Lost World" even gave us a taste of dinosaurs in the "real world" when a T-Rex escaped its cargo ship and hit the mainland, rampaging through San Diego and jumping the shark (or dinosaur, as it were) in one of the silliest plot devices ever conceived on film, "Jurassic" or otherwise.

Will these scientists and corporations ever learn? The central lesson of the movie (and the franchise) surprisingly parallels the state of filmmaking as an industry: even when armed with the most cutting-edge technology, humans will never be able to completely control the forces of nature. There are only so many ways to tell this kind of story, but if they keep making them as entertaining and edifying as "Jurassic World," I can think of worse ways to spend a hot summer day in a cool movie theater.

Advance Screening Review: "A Nightmare On Elm Street"

[Screening Date: April 28 / Release Date: April 30]

Say what you will about scary movies, but the good ones always find a way to get under your skin and stay there. What I’ve enjoyed about the “Nightmare On Elm Street” franchise above most others is the primal level on which its terror takes place. The things that haunt our dreams are supposed to be fake and harmless -- especially once we’ve woken up -- but the “Nightmare” movies (the better installments, anyway) challenge that perception of safety.

In all honesty, this is one of those horror films that didn’t *need* to be remade… or rebooted or re-imagined or whatever they’re calling it these days. The original 1984 film completely holds up on its own merits without becoming dated by any of the endless sequels that have followed (though 1994’s “New Nightmare,” which took place in the real world and featured Freddy going after the cast and crew, was quite clever on a meta level). However, since it seems to be inevitable in creativity-starved Hollywood, at least this entry avoids all the mistakes made by last year’s atrocious attempt at reviving “Friday The 13th.”

This time around, the tone is well-set right off the bat. An evocative opening credits sequence superimposes a standard font over scrawled versions of the same words while fuzzy images related to the plot and themes fade in and out of focus. As if that weren’t enough, an effectively creepy instrumental score interpolates the original film’s theme music without directly ripping it off. From there, I’m pretty sure you have a good idea of what happens next!

Samuel Bayer, an accomplished director of commercials and music videos known for such iconic clips as Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and Blind Melon’s “No Rain,” makes his feature film debut. Interestingly enough, his background serves the look and style of the movie rather well. As the characters desperately try to stay awake, his placement of quick cuts (sometimes literally, haha) between dreams and reality make you experience the effects of sleep deprivation right along with them.

On a refreshing note, while special effects have come a long way since 1984, very little has changed in the way this story is told visually. None of the thankfully sparse computer-generated elements feel overdone, and the simple film trick that overlaps the dreams and the waking world is a nice touch that still facilitates the surreal nature of these scenes. Even the recent advents of technology, namely cell phones and laptops, offer minimal plot intrusion.

Now, on to why I’m sure you’re really reading: the fright factor! Though it’s hard to miss the basic A-to-B outline of the plot, there were some genuinely good scares achieved by lulling the audience into a false sense of security after a few close calls. In fact, the movie emerges nicely from early shadows and sound effects to its first full views of Freddy, which makes his presence that much more sinister. Speaking of sinister, the death scenes were shot relatively tactfully, with only as much blood as needed to get across the point… and certainly far less gory than many recent horror films.

Underneath all the bad dreams, the young actors having them are likable enough by day and convincingly terrified enough by night to miss once they’re gone (or close enough to it for a lucky few). Needless to say, the real star of course is Freddy, played in this version by Jackie Earle Haley. With all due respect to the Robert Englund incarnation in all his campy, bad-punning glory, this interpretation of the character is appropriately more menacing and all the better for it. The work put into Haley’s makeup and voice to be more authentic and indicative of a burn victim adds to the unnerving atmosphere, particularly in close-ups. Englund’s Freddy makes me roll my eyes and laugh; Haley’s Freddy makes me afraid that he WILL come after me in my dreams!

My only major complaint with the film is that no serious liberties are taken; it’s almost *too* faithful of a remake. The governing idea behind remakes (other than ideal financial gain for those involved) is artistic: to bring something new to the material or flesh out what was already there while retaining the spirit of its source. This particular “Nightmare On Elm Street” manages to do both and neither at the same time. Some scenes exactly replicate what happened in the original film; some scenes are noticeably absent. Other scenes contribute unique, fleeting visual or performance flourishes; other scenes read further between the lines than one may deem absolutely necessary, especially with regard to Freddy’s past. The one lesson that most horror movies will never learn is that sometimes, NOT knowing is scarier than anything a script could tell us.

In the end, we’re left with the possibility of yet another sequel, as someone at the scene of the final battle mentions in passing that “there’s no sign of [Freddy’s] body.” The collective gasp and giggle that swept through the audience proves that there’s room for more, even after Freddy pops up one last time. Overall, fans of the original film and subsequent franchise won’t find any real shocks or surprises, but newer audiences meeting Freddy and friends for the first time just might. Which begs the question: are you better off just watching the original? Since both movies offer the same innovative (at one time) concept, it all depends on your mood as a viewer. How do you like your Freddy? I’ll take the one that actually makes “Nightmare” a scary movie. {B-}

Advance Screening Review: "Letters To Juliet"

[Screening Date: April 15 / Release Date: May 14]

Ah, movie trailers. Remember the good old days when they showed you just enough to whet your appetite and drum up word-of-mouth excitement around the film in question? Then, when you finally sat down to watch the movie itself, you had an idea of what to expect but still managed to be surprised by the finished product?

Well… those days are gone, and “Letters To Juliet” is little more than the latest film to fall victim to what I like to call “trailer-itis”: the compulsive, nonsensical need of studios to so thoroughly spell out their movies that the viewing public can’t even question what they’re about, but somehow still make them appear interesting enough to shell out 10 bucks to see.

In this unfortunate textbook example, everything you need to know about the film that should have been highlights and surprises is literally telegraphed from start to finish, *including* most of the ending! I wish I hadn’t seen the trailer prior to watching the movie, because I might have been more forgiving of its predictability had there been slightly more substance than what the preview teased (ahem, ruined) for us.

“Juliet” follows fact-checker-waiting-to-be-writer Sophie (Amanda Seyfried, charming as always) on a pre-honeymoon to Italy with her distracted fiancé (Gael Garcia Bernal, woefully miscast). He’s opening a restaurant back home, so while researching the various culinary inspirations around him, she’s left to take in the sights by herself.

Sophie discovers a site in Verona, the setting of Shakespeare’s “Romeo & Juliet,” where people leave letters asking Juliet for love advice at the wall where Romeo climbed to her balcony. To maintain this tradition, a group of women respond to the letters, and after meeting them, Sophie decides this is her chance to shine. Upon finding an old, unanswered letter hidden in the bricks, Sophie is touched by the plea and writes back.

At this point, what started out as a great (if cutesy) premise becomes increasingly weaker as the story plays out. Veteran actress Vanessa Redgrave shows up as Claire, the author of the old letter who’s inspired by Sophie’s letter to search for her lost love, with her snarky grandson Charlie (Christopher Egan) in tow. Claire and Sophie share the same optimism about love; Charlie is the token cynic (who, of course, prefers “realist”).

As you might expect, Sophie and Charlie take an immediate dislike to each other, so naturally the film explores the role of romance in our lives through contrasting these two characters’ outlooks. In the first of several missteps, they never make us feel like there’s as much at stake in their blossoming relationship as there is in Claire’s attempts to restore hers. To me, these are characters who “fall in love” not because they’ve made a tangible connection and grown closer by overcoming shared obstacles, but because they conveniently “have to” for the movie to “work.” Thankfully, Seyfried and Egan have enough chemistry for us to endure most of their back-and-forth banter, because heaven knows it’s been done before -- and better.

By the end of the movie, “before and better” had become the mantra I was embracing from a critical perspective. From an emotional perspective, however, there was still a little room left for investment in the film. During Claire’s unabashedly romantic quest, “Letters To Juliet” does succeed in making some bold statements about life and love, but never quite finds the right tone in which to do so. In the confines of its PG-rated box, the film tries too hard to show off a jaded mind when it actually works best using its pure, syrupy heart.

That said, the movie isn’t a complete waste. It’s an absolute joy to see Redgrave, still at the top of her game, so effortlessly manage to inject dignity, grace, and believability into the otherwise bland and by-the-numbers proceedings. It’s largely thanks to her that the film ends up with some witty dialogue and genuinely sweet moments that keep it from drifting too unrepentantly far toward cliché -- or worse, boredom. Also steering us clear of boredom is the stunning cinematography. The film was so beautifully shot on location that the Italian board of tourism should be thanking the filmmakers for the jump in travel they’re bound to see.

Unfortunately, there’s just as much to loathe here as there is to love, which leaves the movie squarely in the middle of the road. Had they put the same amount of work into making “Letters To Juliet” feel as good as it looks, it wouldn’t succumb to the same contrivances it so desperately tries to avoid. {C+}

Advance Screening Review: "Kick-Ass"

[Screening Date: April 7 / Release Date: April 16]

Don’t be fooled by the blue sky and wispy clouds through which the opening credits fly. As we learn pretty quickly, this is one superhero movie that’s not for kids -- even though it’s about them -- and the film is stronger because of it.

Sure to be one of the most successful, if not controversial, movies of the spring, “Kick-Ass” doesn’t pull any punches (or kicks, haha). It belongs to and subverts the superhero genre at the same time, with the potent blend of action and comedy serving the story and characters rather than plodding from one fight scene to the next. This is especially helpful for those in the audience (like myself) who aren’t familiar with the comic book series upon which the movie is based.

Set in a world that’s not very far removed from our own (they even make a joke about “Lost” ending), “Kick-Ass” tells the story of idealistic teen Dave Lizewski (Aaron Johnson), a comic book fan who doesn’t understand why superheroes don’t exist in real-life where they’re just as needed, if not more so. After witnessing crime being ignored around his neighborhood and falling victim to violence himself, he decides to take up the cause despite his obvious lack of superpowers.

Dave’s vigilante justice soon draws the ire of a local mob boss, whose son (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) is one of Dave's classmates. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Dave, other “superheroes” -- a father-daughter team (Nicolas Cage and Chloe Grace Moretz) -- are already at work in the city. Once their paths cross, it becomes clear that larger plots are unfolding and they may actually be the only ones who can save the day.

Naturally, no coming-of-age story would be complete without instances of juvenile humor and adolescent angst, but there are some surprising moments of deeper philosophical resonance that set this movie apart from others of its ilk. At one point early in the film, after Dave has intervened to save a young man from an unfairly-matched gang fight, one of the thugs asks Dave what his problem is. His response, like the rest of “Kick-Ass,” shows a remarkably confident level of awareness and maturity: “Three assholes laying into one guy while everyone else watches, and you’re asking what’s wrong with me?” Everyone else watching, of course, refers to the growing crowd around them cheering, taking pictures, and filming Dave’s victory, which isn’t why he’s fighting. This frustration is admirable, and given the paparazzi-like state of today’s culture, his retort is almost anthemic.

Another anthem worth taking up is the refreshing amount of youth empowerment that the film advocates. Modern childhood is tragically threatened by horrific situations like neglectful parents and abuse from trusted authority figures, but this movie defies such threats in its own way. Sometimes, it’s with a wink and a smile during genuinely funny and touching family moments. Other times, it’s with an explosion or a well-placed expletive during some truly stunning action sequences. Either way, it works!

The film does occasionally stray toward being a little *too* violent, but one can likely attribute that to its source material. Otherwise, the overall look and style of the film is colorful and well-edited, almost like a graphic novel come to life (which does actually happen during one critical scene of backstory). The soundtrack boasts an exemplary use and variety of music, both in song selection and the instrumental score.

Even the acting, which is typically hit-or-miss in similar films, hits all the right notes. Johnson, a relative newcomer, more than ably carries the movie and impressively conveys the conflict between Dave’s good nature and being overwhelmed by his own intentions. Cage actually finds a great character for his quirky but endearing screen presence, and Moretz pulls off the feat of making an 11-year-old tough girl, who swears like a sailor and kills her way through rooms of bad guys without breaking a sweat, seem exhilarating and plausible rather than cute and gimmicky.

Perhaps most interesting is how Mintz-Plasse, best known for his breakout role as McLovin’ in “Superbad,” manages to work in the medium of adolescent comedy without playing the same character over and over (yes, I’m looking at you, Michael Cera). Mintz-Plasse retains shades of the awkward teenagers he’s played, but ends up showing more range when it comes to depicting his torn loyalty among pleasing his villainous father, protecting his heroic friends, or choosing his own path.

By the end, it becomes all too clear that “Kick-Ass” is intended as a first chapter, an origin story to set up at least one more film if not a franchise. I don’t normally say this, but if this “comic book movie” is a sign of things to come, it’s one sequel that I wouldn’t mind seeing. {B+}