Sandy Wexler Review

I have a confession, well actually, it is more of a gloat: I have not seen an Adam Sandler film on release since 2005's "The Longest Yard" remake, but that ends with Netflix's "Sandy Wexler," the third Adam Sandler flick exclusive to the streaming service. Considering how many films he puts out, it would be safe to say that I am not a fan of the actor. Actually, that would be putting it lightly.

But "Sandy Wexler," complete with all the "Adam Sandler-esque" movie trademarks (including, but not limited to: an annoying voice, a "funny" walk, supporting characters of friends instead of actors), wore me down with its charm. I have no idea where the hell the charm came from, there shouldn't anything here that should work, but something happened about half way through the film, and that thing was that my lip formed a smile.

Set in the 90's, Sandler plays the titular Sandy Wexler, a talent agent who is more than okay representing creeps and the non-talented (including Kevin James as Ted Rafferty, a forgetful ventriloquist, and Terry Crews as Bobby Barnes, a wrestler). He is good-natured and is ever too happy to tell his clients what they want to hear; "... the audition went well," for example, even when it didn't. But one day when babysitting two young girls at an amusement park, he discovers Courtney Clarke (Jennifer Hudson) singing in a chicken costume.

Courtney of course makes it big, but Wexler comes to the harsh realization that he cannot support her and the newfound fame. He is heartbroken, but here is where we see actual acting from the staring actor, a level of emotion and depth I did not know he had. Sandy attempts to focus on his other clients, but his distraction by her omnipresent fame causes a string of misfires that causes these clients to leave him, well, save for ventriloquist (who's own big break comes from the suicide of a clown). The rest is Hallmark Channel Original Movie territory, but perhaps that is why everything works so well. We watch them become friends, care for each other, discover themselves through the other- it is a story as dull-as-dishwater, but it is executed effortlessly here.

The film breaks from the 90's backdrop to find celebrities, and has-beens, playing themselves, all dressed up drinking out of fancy glasses, talking about the namesake talent agent. Most of Sandler's usual crew of actors appear here, without the gimmick of having them play a character, and I think this is why the film is so successful: most of the exhausting cameos, that have littered the actor's past films, appear together and make jokes, instead of being the joke. These scenes make sense by the end of the movie, in an obvious but somehow satisfying fashion.

But there are two things that surprised me here: Adam Sandler's acting and the comedy. Both are quite solid, even with the stupid voice and if the humor occasionally dives headfirst into stupidity with silly slapstick and 90's jokes (I mean, Vanilla Ice makes an appearance). I did not expect to find myself caring about Wexler and his crush on Clarke, but I did. And I certainly did not expect to find myself laughing, but that happened too. I must have been having an off-night; this recommendation comes with an apology.

Power Rangers (2017) Review

"Power Rangers," the third live action film in the franchise, acts a reboot and an homage to the property- as in, it was made to sell toys (and donuts, but more on that later). Kids will buy the toys, no doubt, as well as kids-at-heart, but they should not see the movie, unless their parents want them to be exposed to scenes of candy-colored action, with a few scenes of blood and bras (that last one is for the "kids-at-heart").

The heroes in this movie, the "Power Rangers," are teenagers, or at least what Hollywood thinks teenagers are; they fight, break laws, go to detention, listen to bad metal music, and send naughty photos of other girls to each other. Of course, it is detention where several of heroes meet, but why must these be the stars of our film? Is it really an underdog story if the person we are rooting for sent a nude picture of another classmate to a boy? Oh, and there is an early scene where "milking a male cow," to put it lightly, is brought up in conversation (there is a cow in the room... it really does not make any more sense if you actually see the movie). Is this all the five (yes five) credited writers could come up with when giving the characters backstory? Of course, you do not actually see any inappropriate pictures or cow milking (thankfully), so the PG-13 rating is secured, but I sat in a theater with a few kids, and I can imagine a matinee would have more, so when those children play with the action figures this 124 minute long commercial sells, they are playing with plastic representations of minors in serious need of better parents.

The five Power Rangers are coincidentally meet in their towns local mine (yes, because all small towns have a local mine), where Billy Cranston, the Blue Ranger (RJ Cyler) blows up a small wall of rock, because "insert generic backstory here," and five coins are spit out. These coins (the internet calls them "Power Coins," but I call them cheap props, so whatever), are what gives the quintuple their powers. They play with their powers before discovering a bed of water in the mines, which is the entrance to a ship. Here, Zordon (Bryan Cranston, no, he isn't related to fictional Billy Cranston), who was the previous leader of the Rangers, reveals himself to be nothing but a taking face on the wall. He tells them to become the Power Rangers and stop Rita Repulsa (Elizabeth Banks), who has just come back (coincidentally) and is after a Zeo Crystal, which can create and destroy life. At first she is a mummified skeleton, discovered by fisherman (a fisherman who happens to be the Red Ranger's dad). She is after gold at first, to build Goldar, a giant CGI monster made of gold, as she needs it to dig for the crystal. And she is particular about what gold she collects; at one point she rips the gold teeth out of a homeless man, but later only steals a few pieces from a local jewelry store (woman and their jewelry...). But Rita is the only character who is any interesting; Banks delivers each line with a snarl and a maniacal laugh, as if "overacting" was a category in the Oscars.

Rita at one point ties all the Rangers up at the town's local dock (this small town has many points of interest), demanding to know where the Zeo Crystal is. After some mild torturing, Billy unveils the crystal's location, and Rita drops him, all tied up, in the water before walking off and letting his friends free from the rope. At this point Billy dies (but he comes back- add that to the list of cliches), but why? How did he die? Was it the water, did he drown? He obviously can hold his breath; he has to swim to Zordon's ship! So what happened?

There are so many mistakes in the film, but one distinctly lingered with me as I walked to my car post credits: the Power Rangers must enter a pool of water to enter Zordon's ship, but when they exit the aqua, they are completely dry, save for a few damp heads. But then the next shot, viola, soaked fabric! This would not have been a problem, had one of the Rangers not commented on how wet they were. Spoiler, they are only wet when the script asks them to be.

The film finishes with your usual action scenes, which took a surprisingly long time to appear, considering its source material, and are packed with slow motion shots and quick, shaky-cam cuts, as the Power Rangers battle Rita and Goldar. Doesn't she know that gold is one of the softer metals? But there is little at stake here. For fight to save the world, there is zero pleasure from watching the small town be destroyed; there is a reason Godzilla demolishes Tokyo and not "Angel Grove." This movie has no purpose except to sell toys, and seeing it is about as much fun as watching someone else play with your toys.

I am sorry if Marvel has spoiled you, but no, each Power Ranger does not have their own "unique" power, or even unique armor, save for their color; without their bright packaging, there would be no way to tell them apart. Perhaps this is a blessing, maybe the creators here hope that they will be mistaken for a better, more developed superhero.

Oh, and the crystal ends up being deep beneath the local Krispy Kreme- spoiler, your movie ticket does not come with a donut.

Life Review

I can imagine Columbia Pictures and Skydance Media were sitting in a meeting room when news broke out about Ridley Scott directing a new Alien movie, and then scrambled to find any monster-in-space script to beat its release date. Unfortunately for audiences, this is the script they dusted of.

Now look, I am usually a pushover for these "haunted house in space" movies, but that is only when they are either "good" or "so-bad-they're-good." The new movie, "Life," falls into the "dreadfully boring" category, stealing not only from the "Alien" movies but also "The Thing," "Gravity," and somehow "Deep Rising," with a monster with a comparable number of mucky tentacles. Compared to other films in the genre, "Life" fails to leave any impression. On its own, makes you wish you were watching those ".. other films in the genre."

The plot concerns a space station and its six astronauts collecting a species sample from Mars, the first proof of extraterrestrial life. Hugh Derry (Ariyon Barkare) is the biologist, who spends most of turning knobs and dials like how I imagine a real biologist does. He is in charge of studying the creature, locked behind the industrial doors of the hulking spacecraft. But after a slight glitch with the atmospheric pressure valves, the little alien that could goes dormant. Determined not to lose what could be the greatest scientific discovery, he zaps the alien, named "Calvin" by a child on Earth who won a contest to name it (this scene takes place in NYC, so you will need both hands to count all the product placement). But that begins a series of stupid actions by our cast, as the organism reacts by clamping down on Hugh's hand, crushing his bones and then escaping from his petri dish. Engineer Rory Adams (Ryan Reynolds, who somehow gets top billing despite, well, read on) breaks the sealed door open to rescue Hugh from the tiny monster, but as he tosses the floppy-handed biologist out of the room, Calvin latches onto his leg, and Dr. David Jordan (Jake Gyllenhaal) locks him in the lab. Rory fights back, but Calvin does not play nice, and soon reduces the secondary character to a limp mass in a particularly bloody fashion. If you think this is a spoiler, don't; the characters are hardly developed enough to feel any emotion other than disgust when they drool blood from their mouths.

Calvin then escapes the room from the sprinkler system, and is now somewhere in the ship. He changes shape each time we see him, though unlike the Xenomorph from the aforementioned franchise, the slimy creature just looks bigger, and more slimy. He resembles an octopus with all his tentacle-esque legs, and just flops across walls and through shafts with none of the grace of a true movie villain.

The rest of the film deals with cut-off communications, low fuel and the lack of oxygen, as well as other, all too familiar, points in the plot; I am surprised the writers did not have ship's engine stall with the gooey monster hot in pursuit. There is not a single moment that filled me with wonder, never did Calvin do or look like something unexpected, never did a shot of space leave me in awe, and not one performance was above average. Every single decision was wrong-headed; even the film's ending left me with more unease than it did amazement.

Ah yes, the ending. There is a twist (that isn't a spoiler, is it?), and I will not say what it is, except that I did not expect it, and it is the only moment in the film where I felt it took a risk. But even with that said, it is a glaring convenient conclusion; just think to yourself, would things have been the same had the fishermen spoke English?

Beauty and the Beast Review

Who is this live-action remake of Beauty and the Beast for? It is far too frightening for children (the showing I attended had at least one kid cry in terror during one of the more intense moments), mothers will see it for the sappy romance, and fathers will attend only for Emma Watson. Those who grew up with the original? There are too many differences to coast on purely by nostalgia, including alterations to songs, as well as completely new ones.

But does that matter? The 129 minute long flick moves at both a brisk and a placid pace, taking breaks for exposition then it is back to high-flying musical numbers, the most impressive one taking place at the start of the film, when Belle lusts for something outside her small village. Its context is not what is extraordinary, it is the sweeping visuals and dozens of extras singing and dancing in harmony. It is the closet the film gets to the magic of the original; the remaining numbers and set pieces look too synthetic, obvious CGI creations that fail to convince me that the singing teapot is truly a teapot in front of a camera.

The other songs are perfunctory, obligatory in a film such as this, but even a salty man like me, who has not seen the original animated classic since you could buy it on VHS, could spot these new songs and the changes to the authentic ones. They were always small, the changes that is, but if I can spot them, then so could all the little girls in line dressed as Belle. Oh, and the new songs? Let me just say you will not be humming them on your way home from the theater.

Emma Watson is perfectly cast, controlling every scene she is in, showing vulnerability beneath her sassy exterior. But that is as far as ideal casting goes; the movie poster showcase many celebrities: Kevin Kline, playing Belle's father Maurice, Luke Evans as Gaston, and Ian McKellen, portraying Cogsworth. They are fine, not a perfect cast but never distracting, and they sing, act, and dance on cue. But they are names on a screen, and never devote their bodies, or voices, with the same level of almost sensual joy that little Hermiome brings to each scene she steals. Rounding out the remainder of the cast includes: Josh Gad, transforming Gaston's dimwitted sidekick into a flamboyant, paunchy ditz (in fact, he is the first openly gay character in a Disney film like this. Churches and Trump voters are pissed), and Evan McGregor, playing the only singing candle tree I can think of, but he cannot hold a candle to Jerry Orbach (pun oh-so intended, he actually does a decent job).

But this brings us to the beast, played by Dan Stevens, who's flowing locks of hair would look more in place on the cover of a romance novel in an airport. But that is by the end of the film; most of the time he is a CGI mess, a crockpot of different animal features and, as one kid a few rows down put it, "... is too scary." But our beast is a snazzy dresser, always wearing a fitted suit. Boy, I would have hated to have been that tailor.

But when you remake a beloved film, your source material is so strong it is almost impossible to fail. Sure, this is not in the same league as the original, or even the 2016 remake of The Jungle Book, but I found myself engrossed in the story, the same way I had when I saw the original. But what is the point? This film will make a lot of money for Disney, but this is four-star material diluted into a two-star remake. Emma Watson's performance gets the flick an extra one.

Kong: Skull Island Review

Kong: Skull Island is silly, stupid, and excessive, a Syfy original movie with the budget of a Hollywood blockbuster. It is the kind of wonderful experience that happens only ever so often on the big screen: the kind of film that makes the six-year-old-boy in me giddy with spectacle. This is the movie that "Shin Godzilla" should have been.

The film begins with a ten-minute introduction of our heroes, strung together by a threadbare plot that exists purely for the sake of establishing this "MonsterVerse," where in the future more American actors will be face-to-face with other famous monsters from the past. And I am okay with that; in fact I could not be happier. Instead of watching B-movies on the small screen, I can watch them on the big screen (I guess that is what "B" stands for now).

John Goodman plays Bill Randa, leader of an underfunded part of the government to study giant monsters (how do I get a job doing that?), partner up with Tom Hiddleston, their tracker, and Samuel L. Jackson, leader of a squadron of Vietnam pilots itching for one last mission. They make it to the island, the titular "Skull Island," where most of their helicopters are smashed by Kong. There are a myriad of other people along for the thrill ride, and Kong's large fists split our large cast into three primary groups: the military, lead by Jackson, a lone solider, played by Toby Kebbel, and the non-fighters, lead by Hiddleston until John C. Riley, playing a bug-eyed survivalist found on the island, stumbles onto the screen and steals it. The film bounces from action piece to action piece, and any slow moment has you leaning in your seat waiting for the next bizarre monster to attack.

Samuel plays Packard, who is more than ticked off at his men dying at the hands of Kong, with the intensity and insanity you expect from any so-bad-it's-good movie. But he imbues his role with the power that only he can bring. His eyes burn and he commands every scene he is from, even if his "Ahab" character is stale, he gives it everything he has; he clearly is having a blast. And why shouldn't he?! The action is grand and frequent, with giant, slimy creatures fighting each other, all gloriously clear even with the 3-D glasses on. The film is being fun without trying to be fun. Marvel, take notice.

But the cast has some wrinkles; while Goodman and Riley are an absolute blast to watch, Hiddleston struggles to carry the film, never doing much aside from looking pretty (which is easy, considering amongst all the blood and mud, his skin is always clear and his clothes are always nice and crisp). Platonic love interest Brie Larson, playing photojournalist Mason Weaver, is equally boring, a frustratingly average performance in a role destined for another character actor.

King Kong battle other monsters, as well as cause some welcome bloodshed from background characters, and that is the rest of the plot, reducing our hefty cast into a much more sizable one. Still, there is zero character development, but the niches are filled and performed (mostly) by actors obviously relishing the fact that they are in a Kong movie. But it is not a remake, sequel, or prequel; it is a reboot, by definition, with no previous knowledge of other films in the franchise need, though fans of those flicks will probably make up most of the audience.

It is what I call a "cocktail genre" movie, blending a monster movie with a jungle-expedition film together, with a splash of a war flick, just for flavor. Lush environments are a perfect juxtaposition to the low angles positioned to create a sense of awe and foreboding size for both the titular ape and the creatures he battles, including one with a towering spider that uses its long tongue to suck up unsuspecting secondary characters. Must be rough knowing that the only time you star along such big names your cinema fate is sealed by the long leg of a spider.

Look, good cinema this is not, but it is well shot, acted, paced, and directed, and for that it gets a recommendation. Actually, I guess that means it is good cinema, so then what can I rate it? Whatever the hell I want to.

The Lego Batman Movie Review

The Lego Batman Movie is a perplexing experience; it recycles the same artifice of the original Lego Movie while reiterating the same dull Batman origin story, though to this film's credit, it is at least the funniest of the franchise (sorry Adam West, I meant "intentionally" funny).

The plot is an excuse for madcap moments where Batman baddies from the relic of time zip into view, say one or two things by a celebrity-supplied voice, and are never in the foreground again. It is a 104 minute dash from one plastic set piece to the next, where things explode into smaller pieces of plastic and jokes fly at the screen Zucker, Abrahams and Zucker style. But the humor here evokes more smiling grins than laughs.

I am sorry- the actual plot involves The Joker feeling sad because the titular hero does not recognize him as his "arch-rival." He turns himself in, along with all of his bad-guy buddies, plotting to be sent to "The Phantom Zone," where the worst of the worst villains spent eternity locked up in the sky. And by villains, I mean other Lego themed sets, like Jurassic Park dinos, the Wicked Witch of the West, and that noseless Harry Potter dude, as well as the likes of King Kong and Dracula. The Joker, through a series of convenient plot points that happen purely to set up the plot, gets sent there and breaks out with the aforesaid evil-doers.

There are subplots, including Batman unknowingly adopting an orphan son, a love-interest that only goes as far as the two becoming "work" partners, among others. (There could have been something about lobsters, because that is all Batman apparently eats, but that could also have been just a joke that I did not catch the punchline to.)

Look, the movie is exactly what your kids want it to be, funny, and fortunately parents should get a kick or two. But that is not the point; the movie desperately wants to be a satire, a kid's movie, an action flick, and a superhero movie. But do we really need scenes of Batman contemplating the death of his parents? He does that in, like, every movie he is in, and if it is a parody, then why not have the photographs of his parents picking their noses or something? That is because it also wants to be a superhero movie, which is why it needs to add depth to its hero. But can't make the hero too complex, I mean, this is also an action movie; it needs scenes of explosion and chase sequences and gunfire. But not too much violence- can't show his parents being murdered or things like that, remember, this also wants to be a kiddie's movie. You see the problem here?

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story Review

While watching Rogue One, the first spin-off Star Wars film, I could not shake a feeling of pointlessness; we all know what happens at the end, I mean, we have all seen the original Star Wars, so what is the point here? The point is box-office dollars for Disney and spectacle for fans, and although it provides some well done eye candy, the movie should have been more.

Characters, for instance, drive these movies into our daily lexicon and pop culture, but I walked out of the theater remembering one name, Tarkin- and he was a character from the original(!), but more on that later. No one character here said one memorable line of dialogue, did one memorable thing, or looked memorable. Actually, that is a lie; C-3PO makes a cameo, and I remembered his name.

The plot is concerns Galen Erso's daughter, Jyn, who is the heroine of the film, trying to come in contact with her father, who is a research scientist catalyst to the creation of the Death Star. The remainder of the plot is well-oiled but derivative, essentially recounting the events leading to the first Star Wars while simultaneously retelling it. The prequel trilogy told the story of Darth Vader, a story worth telling. Here, the story is a 133 minute telling of the opening from the first one. Look, if you are going to give backstory on something, make it something we the audience do not already know the outcome of.

The actors all do a fine job, and all physically fit for the role and speak with conviction, but the talk, talk, talk, talk, what is the point of it all? We all know the Death Star plans land in the hands of the Rebellion! It would not have been an issue had they had anything interesting to say, but the people here subscribe to the theory that long, brooding bits of exposition trumps characterization.

But for all the visual effects, the world created here is a bore, planets dirty and grimy with scummy background actors and supporting actors with 5 o'clock shadows. Haven't we seen this before? Whether in another Star Wars film or in dozens of other examples, the universe we see here lacks the punch creator George Lucas so delicately crafted seemingly so easily. The underwater cities of Naboo from Episode I and countless others- they created a world full of whimsy and mystery, and Rogue One settles for dim, dark and dank dungeons and the same cramp spaceships we have seen before. The climax does take our heroes on a sunny beach, but it's resemblance to Florida, or any tropical land, destroys any chance it has at showcasing a truly original world for these aliens to live. Maybe it is a hidden advertisement for Disney World's new Star Wars rides.

It should come to no surprise that there is only one shot of a lightsaber, a trademark of the franchise, and that is okay. But director Gareth Edwards directs this lone shot with such finesse and passion, with a level of anger and thrills that The Force Awakens fumbled so poorly with. It may be a scene that is purely fan service, but call me a fan, as it was the movie's best moment. Its rosy glow and vermilion beam was a familiar, but welcome one.

Oh, almost forgot; remember Tarkin from earlier? He was played by Peter Cushing in the original, and here is a uncanny valley recreation of the veteran actor. His face is all done by computers, of course, but things just do not look right. In the original he stared with a stony glaze, but here, his glaze would be better suited for a CGI doughnut.