Superman Review

"Superman" is the best DC film since Batman fought the Joker back in 2008, avoiding the obvious trap of needless world-building in favor of focusing on the "now:" sure, there are superfluous cameos and scenes that exist purely to setup the next few films, but they are brief, fleeting moments in an otherwise completely regular superhero film. 

Problem with that praise is that so often do DC movies suck eggs, but seen on a big screen, in a crowded theater on a comfy reclining leather chair, it made for a good time at the movies, which is what I am all about. It might be average for the genre, but it's above-average for DC, one with a clear vision, directed by a sure hand.

David Corenswet plays the titular Superman, whose jawline certainly looks the part made famous by the late Christopher Reeve and whose body looks good in a rubber suit. As the film opens, he loses a fight to the "Hammer of Boravia," a supervillain who's quickly revealed to be Ultraman. As someone who grew up with toy dinosaurs and monster trucks and not action figures with capes, the naming is so goofy that I'm surprised the property isn't a parody of the genre. He's controlled remotely by people working for Lex Luthor (played without hair by Nicholas Hoult), and anytime he's onscreen fighting, it's about as exciting as watching someone else play a video game.

But that's OK, because all Superman needs to do is a quick whistle and look in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane. No, it's a CGI dog! Naw just kidding, it's Krypto the Superdog. (Like come on, how can anyone take this stuff seriously?) The pup drags him (in a straight line for what seems like half a mile) to the "Fortress of Solitude," where some big magnifying glass-looking thing concentrates the sun, healing our protagonist right up into fighting shape.

But when returning to the fight, his home base was spotted by "The Engineer," played by María Gabriela de Faría, another baddie. Her powers are a bit vague to me, being able to "make anything she can think of," or something. I imagine not anything, or else she would just turn into a walking hunk of kryptonite, but I digress. She also works for the evil Mr. Luthor, who runs "LuthorCorp," who spends his time trying to persuade the government that Superman is a threat, when he isn't standing around his office yelling at everyone. It's like how I imagine it is working at X, formerly known as Twitter. 

Lex is supposedly really smart, though apparently not smart enough to know Superman's real identity, which frustrated me until a throwaway line about the caped hero's special "glasses." They apparently change how others see him, or something like that, which is a cool idea if the audience saw it. Instead, we just see David in normal pants and dopey hair.

So what's the plot? It's surprisingly deep all things considered, with Luthor planning to start a war by having the fictional nation of Boravia invade the equally fictional country of Jarhanpur. I can't say why due to spoilers, but it doesn't feel all that far-fetched in today's political climate (a megalomaniac's ambitions are seldom wholesome).

"Superman" comes to us from Marvel-traitor James Gunn, and James Gunn "the director" certainly knows how to direct an action scene: you can clearly see what's going on and rarely becomes a mess of computer-generated special effects soup. And James Gunn "the writer" can come up with a few amusing jokes, spacing them far enough apart that the whole production doesn't become a self-aware, self-righteous ego-trip that distracts from the grounded narrative. But "writer/director" James Gunn struggles to flesh out characters, giving them all the depth of Krypto's water dish. Characters like Superman's girlfriend Lois Lane (Rachel Brosnahan) are given very little to do; at one point Superman is arrested and incarcerated, and Lois tries to figure a way to get him out, but what is a mere mortal to do? Ask other superheroes to do the actual work!

I also felt yucky when some of Gunn's jokes verge on cruel, mostly around Daily Planet newspaper employee Jimmy (Skyler Gisondo). He's introduced with female coworkers gawking at how attractive he is. Not only does this make zero sense when he literally sits next to Super-freaking-man, but he is like a solid "five" at best. But his personality is also gross, especially a main plot-point about his secret affair with Luthor's girlfriend Eve. She's played by Sara Sampaio and her whole personality is just lounging around in flashy clothing taking selfies. But Jimbo isn't actually attracted to her, just using her for information on Lex despite her obvious infatuation. Why is he so repulsed by her? Because her toes look like "shrimp" or something. Har hee har har.

I also fault ye olde fallacy of the talky villain, the cliche where the bad guy, instead of just killing the protagonist, talks and talks again and again about their plan. This is common in popcorn films like this, so the hero can figure out a way to escape while they're gabbing, and while I can accept it in the Bond movies, they're a tradition to them, "Superman" wants to be more than a simple summer blockbuster. If Lex is allegedly a genius, you'd think he'd be smarter than a man with three nipples.

But the silliest thing is how "Superman" shows, that in 2025, a newspaper would still be a thing,

The Old Guard 2 Review

If I can praise anything about the sequel to Netflix's 2020 film "The Old Guard," it's that it doesn't bother with silly subtitles, sticking with the tired and true "2" affixed to the end. Sadly, when I say that's about all I can praise, I mean it.

"The Old Guard 2" is a talky superhero film that forgoes the freedom of not having any baggage the big guys have (Marvel and DC) by padding its runtime, scene after scene of characters walking around, sitting down, standing here or there, etc., spouting vague dialogue about the "freedom of being mortal" or whatever. Even the action, which is momentarily exciting, is brief and often dimly lit. And the big finale takes place at a nuclear facility, which, in movie-terms, means large rooms filled with steamy pipes, automatic doors and useless touchscreens. But that's the old guard, or should I say, old hat?

The first movie, which was a breath of fresh Hollywood glitzy air during the early days of the pandemic, is also lost in the blur which was that global event, and part two readily assumes you've freshly seen the original, loved it and read the graphic novels all this is based on. And if you're a normal (ish) person like me, who most certainly has not done any of that, then get ready to waste your rainy Sunday afternoon being both confused and bored. I did remember that Charlize Theron starred, so yay for me, I guess.

She plays Andy, leader of a merry band of immortal crime fighters, but do you recall her having lost her immortality? I sure didn't, and unless you press pause, select "The Old Guard" collection on the streamer and rewatch the earlier chapter, don't worry, it only takes about half this movie's length before it offers an explanation. In the meantime, you'll welcome back characters you didn't remember in the first place, like Andy's friends Nile (KiKi Layne), Joe (Marwan Kenzari) and Nicky (Luca Marinelli), as well as her former CIA pal Copley (Chiwetel Ejiofor). Did I hear a yawn or was it just me?

The plot concerns a mysterious woman named Discord (an absolutely wasted Uma Thurman), who we learn is the first of the immortals, after Andy's team stops an illegal arms deal from happening. Discord was the buyer, though when we first meet her, she doesn't seem all that bent out of shape from losing what is at least thousands of dollars of guns, but I digress.

Discord has also found Quynh (Veronica Ngo) in an iron maiden dumped at sea in the centuries ago, a former friend of Andy and she is quite angry she stopped looking for her. She joins Discord to get revenge, but why exactly did Discord rescue her? To get the manpower or to try and bait Andy out of hiding? I think both, and I'm not exactly sure the film knows either.

This alone is basic enough to build an action movie out of, but there's more: Nile is said to be the last of the immortals, and their local neighborhood immortal librarian Tuah (Henry Golding) has a theory that she also has the power to stop those from lasting forever if she inflicts damage. Why? Because he found an old legend, of course! It's such a flimsy excuse of an answer that even the characters don't seem to believe it, but that's what constitutes effective world-building for screenwriters Greg Rucka and Sarah L. Walker. The theory is true, of course, guess those ancient books are always right on the money.

There's more, of course, but "The Old Guard 2" ends so abruptly, so obviously setting up a third entry that I nearly hopped off my couch with delight, happy that I was spared any more tedium. Until the next one comes out, that is, and the professional critic in me presses "play."

I don't mean to come down too much on the film- it's way too inconsequential and slight for me to really hate, except how it wasted my time. But it makes no sense, goes nowhere and means nothing. At least the overqualified cast seem to be enjoying themselves, but their pleasure does not translate to me as I watched on, twiddling my thumbs and wishing I had another box of candy to eat.

Jurassic World Rebirth Review

If the latest "Jurassic Park World" film lacks anything, it would be ambition. The sets, actors, direction, etc., are all top-notch, a lot of money spent to make this a very good looking picture, but the script simply steals scene after scene from the monster movie cliche-factory. Say what you will about the series' "Fallen Kingdom" or "Dominion" entries, but they at least swung for the fences, figuring out how to make a haunted house or "Indiana Jones" with dinosaurs work.

Actually I take that back, the beginning is fun: the film opens in 2010 in a secret lab where they're making hybrid dinos. A novel idea but it gets better; it's amusingly explained that a candy bar wrapper, which was sucked up by automatic doors and caused the system to reboot, is the whole reason the monsters escape and thusly, the whole reason this movie exists. It was a Snickers bar, in case you're wondering, you know, because it's funny. Har hee har har.

But I digress: I lay much of the blame on writer David Koepp, who co-wrote the first one (alongside franchise creator, the late Michael Crichton) and solely penned the first sequel, and "Rebirth" feels like a direct continuation of the latter: great action sequences populated by characters I felt nothing for. There's the shady pharmaceutical guy Martin (Rupert Friend), the sarcastic dinosaur expert Dr. Loomis (Jonathan Bailey), the franchise-usual "child who shouldn't be here" Isabella (Audrina Miranda), etc.,. Even Scarlett Johansson, as the mercenary Zora, is wasted, looking commanding holding a gun, but like the rest is given nothing to do; people simply go where they shouldn't and get chased (or eaten) by creatures who belonged sixty five million years ago.

The narrative is equally uninspired: Martin's company needs samples from living dinosaurs to cure heart disease (a plot all dino-loving kids will no doubt care about), so she in turn hires Duncan (Mahershala Ali) and team to take a boat to the equator, where dinosaurs roam free. All countries have banned entry to their habitat, but that shouldn't be a problem; as he explains "no one is dumb enough to go where we're going." Talk about a great sales pitch.

Zora is only in it for the money, and so are her allies, but what surprises me the most about this obviously bad idea is that a literal doctor would willingly, after everything that's ever happened in these pictures, to go ahead with the plan. Sure, he's rock-climbed before, but he isn't exactly the kind of guy who usually lives very long in monster movies. The film tries to explain that he agreed because the population has stopped caring about dinosaurs, a statement I just plainly refuse to believe: have you ever met a six year old kid? (Or the people who willingly pluck down seventeen plus bucks for a ticket and the 3D surcharge?)

Speaking of 3D, it isn't worth the extra few dollars: I didn't feel more immersed in the action, and the dinosaurs didn't come out and eat the annoying family in my row who talked the whole time. Shame.

One of the trio of dinos they need dino-DNA from is the, checks internet, the aquatic mosasaurs, but before they can complete 33% of the plot, they intercept a distress call. It's Reuben (Manuel Garcia-Rulfo), his two daughters and the oldest's lazy boyfriend. Their sailboat was capsized after a dino attack, so not only is Reuben a bad father for taking his children into dino-infested waters, but that there really isn't any policing of the deadly ocean to stop bad fathers like Reuben from taking children there!

Anyway, the mosasaurs are found to be working alongside a pack of spinosauruses in hunting; Duncan tries to escape their pursuit but crashes the boat on an island (where else?), and the two parties get separated. There's a lot of cool ideas here, but they either go nowhere or are illogical, take the different species forming a squad for lunch: it's brought up, leads to a terrific action scene, and then dropped. T-Rex? Goes about solo. Dilophosaurus? Lonesome scavenger. It is just so frustrating.

Reuben, now limping thanks to an injury he sustained on the boat, is trying to find a village Martin mentioned, following warm pipes he hopes will take them to safety, where as Zora and friends continue looking for the remaining two living theme park attractions they need. I did find it a bit refreshing that the film chooses to have two parallel bands of survivors, opposed to them all sticking together, but of course, being PG-13 Spielberg-sanctioned cinema, the guys and gals with guns are the ones who end up as dino-chow. I don't necessarily want to see kids or teens (or a dad with his children in sight) get munched on, but what sense does a group with weapons and a paleontologist being the team that's snacked on make?

I also would have liked for this village to actually exist, just to see what kind of crazy people live with the dinosaurs. Maybe in the sequel.

The remainder of the runtime consists of your usual jungle scenes ("did something just touch my leg in the water?" a character asks), a field of long neck herbivores (the only time where characters are in awe at the creatures' beauty) and abandoned InGen labs (including a gas station, complete with a convenience store). I wouldn't mind so much (aside from this being, checks internet again, seventh film in the series) if they did anything new here. But no, "Jurassic World Rebirth" only wants to tread the familiar, like an extended riff on the kitchen scene from the first movie. Or the character you're supposed to believe was eaten, only for them to inexplicably live, just like in part three. Or like the aforementioned gas station, like, oh I dunno, the second film, the franchise' worst entry, though now it has some competition.

Heads of State Review

From the director of 2021's above-average "Nobody" comes the equally above-average "Heads of State." It's got a high energy level, action scenes that look like they're happening in-front of the camera instead off from a computer, two terrific lead actors and a subject matter ripe for satire.

John Cena, finally finding a project worthy of his charisma, plays Will Derringer, a model turned actor turned president of the United States, and the film knows how silly it is when Hollywood enters politics. Much of the humor towards the parody president comes from Sam Clarke, played with laconic irony by the always wonderful Idris Elba, the UK Prime Minister. He bemoans the man, thinking of him as a joke and dreads the idea of having to share the stage when the two countries have to hold a press conference to discuss their alliance on some gobbledygook satellite system called "Echelon." The two come to quips, and in an attempt to get some positive publicity, Sam joins Will aboard Air Force One. The bickering continues at 30,000 feet. 

The two, however, are soon attacked by an assassin disguised as a server, the plane begins to go down, but the duo are able to escape with the only two remaining parachutes. While very-much alive, the world thinks they're dead and the two try to head to a safe house in Poland. What they don't know is that Echelon has been compromised by a very bad man, Viktor Gradov (Paddy Considine). He's upset that his son was killed offscreen trying to make a nuclear reactor, and thanks to Echelon he now has access to all sorts of classified NATO secrets, which he leaks to try and disassemble the regional alliance. Or something; the plot in a movie like this is about as important as the calorie count on the big bucket of popcorn during a good summer blockbuster.

Along this very familiar turf, our familiar characters run into another familiar cliche, the former lover AND also-thought-to-be-deceased secret service agent Noel (Priyanka Chopra Jonas). Her and Sam "used to work together," and her team was killed in the film's opening, depicting how Viktor actually got his hands on Echelon, but what I was more fascinated about was the utter lack of chemistry she and Idris had. He is ten years older than her in real life and it shows, and I never believed for a second their prior romance. (Or their, gasp, potential rekindling?!) What's even more amusing is how the actress is actually married to Nick Jonas, who is ten years younger then her! Not that it matters, but it does go to show just how closely one needs to pay attention here, or how long it sticks around your dome once the credits roll.

But who cares when the action spans planes, trains and automobiles, the fights and shootouts showing who is throwing a punch, or who is taking the bullet, director Ilya Naishuller clearly knows how to handle material like this. And whether it's actual physical stunts or just really good CGI, I never got the impression that the pricey cast was just standing around a green screen reacting to things that'll be added in post-production, helping take me back to a time where every few weeks it felt like the theater or the local VHS store was littered with these kinds of dumb action movies.

I lamented the lack of logic in my review of Liam Neeson's recent "Ice Road: Vengeance," and while "Heads of State" is equally oblivious to how things in the real world actually function, it works this time around because it is 100% action comedy and zero percent thriller. Both parts to its genre whole breed beautifully in the outrageous and unbelievable, and this film has it in spades. How could I believe that a random Russian farmer would recognize Will from his movies when none of her boys did, especially since they're probably the target demographic? Why should I pretend to think that one of the leads actually died when a rocket is shot into the building they're standing in, with something like thirty minutes left on the runtime? In what world should I accept the lunacy that Viktor could somehow stage a surprise assault on a NATO summit, where security should be tighter than John Cena's bicep curl? The answer? Because it gives the filmmakers the opportunity to stage some impressive set pieces and actors to deliver a few amusing lines of dialogue.

Ice Road: Vengeance Review

You've seen a movie or two where an aging "name" actor is slapped across the poster and trailer, only for them to make a glorified cameo appearance. The genre is usually action or thriller (or if the makers are feeling frisky, an action thriller), and stereotypically appeal to old men; they're commonly called, the cinematic slur, "geezer teaser," and everyone from Steven Segal to Sylvester Stallone is guilty to these quick paychecks, often eschewing large releases in favor of a very limited release, then littering the dying DVD section of mega-marts.

But not Liam Nelson: his films have him in almost every fight, shootout and action sequence, being a true professional by giving his niche audience what they want. I call his picture "geezer pleasers."

Only something strange happened with his latest venture, "Ice Road: Vengeance-" none of my local theaters were playing it when it came out last Friday, and not even a week later, it is ready to buy or rent digitally. This marks perhaps the beginning of the end of his late-career turn as a mainstream action hero, where he'll join the video-on-demand ranks of the few who still headline their films; Dolph Lundgren and Jean-Claude Van-Damme may soon have some company on every budget streaming service. 

"Ice Road: Vengeance" is, perhaps unsurprisingly,  not Liam Neeson's best film; hell, it's not even his best film with the word "ice road" in it. A sequel to 2021's guilty-pleasure "The Ice Road," where he played an ice road trucker, everyone's favorite aging Irish actor returns as Mike McCann, who is not seen steering a tractor-trailer on an ice road. Instead, we learn that Mike, struggling with survivors' guilt, heads out to Nepal to spread his deceased brother's ashes atop Mount Everest. So far, so snowy.

But cut to a nearby village, where the townspeople are angry at Rudra (Mahesh Jadu), a shady businessman who wants to build a dam. But the Rai family won't sell their land, leading to the mysterious death of Ganesh's (Shapoor Batliwalla) father. Fearing for his own life, he heads out into hiding in a remote cabin in the mountains, urging his son Vijay (Saksham Sharma) to leave the local market and join him. 

I've compared Liam Neeson to the late Charles Bronson in nearly every film of his I've reviewed, and this boilerplate plot makes this his "Messenger of Death." But I digress. 

Back to Mike, together with his guide Dhani (Fan Bingbing), they head up the mountain on a tour bus driven by Spike (Geoff Morrell). His quirky dialogue and shabby appearance makes the most of his limited screentime.

How do these two plots collide? Vijay of course takes the very same bus up to his father, but along for the ride are two assassins, who take the whole vehicle hostage in broad daylight and an extremely populated road. Mike and Dhani make quick-work of the crooks, naturally, knocking one out of the moving vehicle and tying up the other. After losing control of the bus, because Spike just didn't, you know, hit the brakes once the hitmen were neutralized, the local police show up and that's it, that's the end. Only it would be, if one of the passengers (Myers, played by Bernard Curry) hadn't gotten this feeling that something wasn't quite right.

What follows is scene after scene of increasingly goofy moments that betray both the budget and our star's reputation. Take, for example, when their bus tips over while being pursued by that bad businessman and his squad of bent cops, their axel torn right off. Mike and friends notice that down the cliff lies a vehicle graveyard, and are able to climb down the cliff and rig a pulley system to lift up parts of the abandoned trucks. It was so outlandish, so unrealistic and didn't have any bearings on the plot that I asked myself "what's the point?"

The whole production is like this. Why is this a sequel when it has almost nothing to do with the first one? Why is a film with the word "ice" in the title feature practically no ice? Why does Dhani know how to fight? Why are there no other tourists ascending what's probably the world's most famous mountain? Why is the CGI so shoddy? Does being a dumb movie mean I shouldn't ask those sorts of questions? What kind of dumb rule is that?!

Yet there are some admirable qualities- returning writer/director Jonathan Hensleigh does handle the action with some finesse, and effects (when practical) are impressive. Also returning is cinematographer Tom Stern, who sometimes fills my TV screen with beautiful shots.

But does being objectively bad film means I didn't enjoy "Ice Road: Vengeance?" Of course not; I never regretted my time sitting on my couch, my hand shoved deep in a box of candy. And, I mean, where else can see a seventy three year old, Oscar-nominee Liam Neeson take out a bad guy with an urn?

28 Years Later Review

Leave it to acclaimed director Danny Boyle for infusing a zombie film with such haunting imagery, almost as an apology for a story that maddeningly makes so little sense; it is a technical triumph and a narrative failure. Though a visual feast and rarely boring, the entire production thought they were making something that wasn't about undead corpses that brutally eat people.

The film takes place twenty eight years after the initial spread of the franchise's "Rage Virus," though in actuality and frustratingly coming out twenty three years later. Unless this is set a few years in the future, in which case I'd expect those "flying cars" we always hear about in films set in the future to solve a lot of the movie's problems, but I digress.

Anyway, the virus' outbreak of zombies is somehow isolated to exclusively the British Isles, which is quarantined off from the rest of the world, which goes on as if people aren't literally dying to zombies everyday. A blurb of onscreen text early on tells us that everyone on the islands are left to fend for themselves, a point I simply refuse to believe, unless every other place on earth is working desperately on a cure. Or they'd figure out how to bomb the land, or maybe even some rogue dictator would try to extract the virus for world domination- something! But not in "28 Years Later;" the best writer Alex Garland could come up with is every nation literally going "nah, we does do give ups."

Oh yes, the plot: on the infected island is a smaller island, reachable only by a small strip of land and only when the tide is low. Here, a merry band of survivors live in relative harmony, either fishing, scavenging, teaching, or learning how to hunt those nasty flesh eaters. Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) is the latter, living with his twelve year old boy Spike (Alfie Williams) and his sick wife Isla (Jodie Comer). What's her ailment? She isn't "infected" but no one in the small island community knows what she has, since there's no one alive with medical training. This is unbelievably the same community, one that struggles to survive against a mysterious virus, being somehow totally cool to house someone with a different, but still mysterious, illness.

Jamie believes Spike is ready to go out on the mainland to learn how to kill for real, despite interjections from Isla, who is seemingly bedridden with a fever, convulsions, violent and loud outbursts and delusions. She thinks of the boy as just a baby, but clearly she hasn't been through enough, so Jamie heads out with her son on a potentially deadly training exercise. Spike makes his first kill, a crawling, obese zombie eating worms. How he's so large makes me wonder about the metabolism of the creatures, since he clearly can't move all that much so meals can't be easy; how'd he get so fat?! But uh-oh, there's another corpulent corpse lumbering behind, but the duo make quick work of such a slow target. But gasp, is that their ghoulish child behind that brush? They don't kill it, but does that mean these, things, have sex? Or do they rape the living? Oh if only the screenplay were that interesting.

However, they soon need to combat an entirely different breed of mutant, an alpha they say, able to apparently command small groups of non-alphas about the land. They're freakishly strong, a simple bow-and-arrow hardly making a dent in their repulsive pursuit of prey, and the father and son are left to hideout in an abandoned house, stalked in the distance by the undead leader. Jamie decides this is enough fun for today, and after the building collapses, they make it to the just-walkable path to their quaint town. But the alpha figures out that it too can traverse towards the entrance, chasing his would-be appetizer and main course almost to the gates. The district's watchtower is able to kill it, and a freshly drunk Jamie heralds his son as a far more capable killer than he was. This is where film flexes its artistic muscles, creating a disturbing montage of people celebrating like a cult in an entirely different kind of picture.

But Spike soon discovers his dad is having an affair- just what all zombie movies need, and thanks to some plot, learns that there is a doctor, though off on the mainland. A certain Dr. Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes), who lives in isolation for reasons I don't think the film ever explains. And because Spike is literally a twelve year old boy, he sneaks his mother (yes, the one who's spent almost the entire time covered in bed sheets) out of safety of their little neighborhood in search for a cure. This is the point where I just gave up, since A) there is so little security in a location there should be tons of it, and B) that Isla would be physically or mentally capable of walking such a great distance. This is the same woman who we saw unable to control her body as it aggressively twisted about her mattress, her shouting in agony; I'm sure she'll be nice and quiet as she tries to slip past a zombie.

But that's a problem throughout; you'd think that in a world where zombies prowl the land and seem to hunt based on noise, that you'd never so much speak in anything other than a whisper. But not in "28 Years Later:" people chat as if they're in a noisy nightclub, their friend an arm's length away unable to hear so they shout, laugh and exchange dialogue that is never as clever as the film thinks it is.

So back to what happens: it turns out a group of soldiers landed on the infected island, their ship having sunk, and despite having plenty of rounds of ammunition, they become fast dinner for the walking dead. Except for Erik (Edvin Ryding), who saves the protagonists when they're attacked at a deserted Shell gas station. There's a nice little gag where the "S" is missing so it reads "hell," but cute visual touches will get you nowhere. Erik is instantly unlikable, shouting at Isla for her outbursts and the like; he's the kind of character who exists in a movie like this only to die.

And then, I kid you not, Isla hears a noise, a painful moan of a woman in a neglected train car: it's a pregnant zombie giving birth. Instead of, you know, getting the hell out of there, she decides to help deliver the infant, even enlisting Spike to help cut the umbilical cord. It's a cool yet poorly introduced idea, one that opens a lot of possibilities of the reproductive and societal systems of zombies, but no, as soon as the unexplained not-infected baby is in the arms of the humans, the newfound mom attacks, is killed, and then an alpha shows up. This leads to another ridiculous moment, where a little boy and a sick woman carrying a newborn are somehow able to outrun a running zombie! And not just "any" zombie, an alpha, one that the film describes as being "like on steroids." Laughably absurd.

But then the doctor shows up to save the day, incapacitating the beast with a morphine dart. He takes them to his, uh, open-house concept, with a tower of skulls as its centerpiece. But he's not crazy (well OK maybe a little crazy), instead simply celebrating those who died. And, perhaps my favorite one yet, another completely preposterous scene where Spike, who just awoke from a morphine slumber because of plot, climbs atop the pyramid of human domes to put another one up there. I don't believe I've ever had the sedative myself, but I really don't think doctors recommend stuff like that.

Dr. Ian and the idea of a sort of monument for those who lost their lives is an interesting idea, but like literally everything else I like, it makes absolutely zero sense. This doctor, who has a seemingly infinite supply of morphine-spiked darts, never tries to kill the alpha that's been "living in the area for about three years" or something like that; we see it twice drugged up, only for people to run in the opposite direction. I'm pretty sure a swift ax swing or two would do the trick.

It's also never explained how doc is able to get all this morphine, nor is it outlined, outside of his unlimited narcotic, is able to survive all on his own; at one point he's surrounded himself with hundreds, if not more, dead bodies near him. I'm no zombie, but I would imagine the stench alone would attract some of the undead to stop by for a little snackie-snack. If I were though, I'd eat bad movies instead.

I suppose all of this is some sort of metaphor, but the characters make so many grossly stupid decisions that the film never escapes the trappings of the dumb horror movie cliche. And then there's the ending, which is not just a complete tonal shift, but feels like the theater accidentally mixed up the last reel with a different, much more entertaining picture, one that knows how silly all this really is and cherishes it.

From the World of John Wick: Ballerina Review

Franchise star Keanu Reeves takes on a supporting role in the loquaciously titled "From the World of John Wick: Ballerina," allowing a new assassin Eve, played by Ana de Armas, to take on much of the fighting, shooting and killing. And it wasn't until the two actors shared the screen together that I realized just how good Reeves is at the largely thankless role, bringing a bemused weariness to every bullet he fires. It helps too that his backstory is fed to the audience over several installments, instead of dumped into the opening twenty minutes.

That's lamentable for Eve here, as the film chronicles her childhood trauma of watching her father get killed by a mysterious man named the Chancellor. He's a bad fellow alright, the leader of a group of assassins who kill not just on contract but also for sport. That last part is what separates them from Eve, who's a Ballerina, a totally different group of assassins operated by the Director (Anjelica Huston); the two groups are explained to operate with some sort of gentleman's agreement of not interfering with the other's business. All this goes out the window when Eve decides to stalk this enigmatic cult for revenge, despite the Director being against it, knowing it would spell war between the two groups.

All this narrative gets in the way of the mystique of the titular heroine, outlying her motives in such obvious detail that your only option, other than buying straight into the fuzzy world-building, is to not. And then what? You're left with just another action thriller, which was my unfortunate reaction.

Not that any of this matters; the "John Wick" movies are always best when they keep the audience in the dark, so not to allow the plot to interrupt the series' trademark action. And there is plenty of action in this spinoff, though I am crestfallen to report that the famous creativity and humor is gone. Oh, don't get me wrong, we still see arms broken, faces smashed, body parts shot, sliced and diced, but it's all so rudimentary. Remember an early scene in the third movie, where John Wick is attacked in a library and he smashes a book into the mouth of his would-be killer? It's a great scene, and best of all, it's original. Not so much with "Ballerina," where I can count on one hand the different altercations that had the little, immature kid in me giddy with twisted delight.

That isn't to say this is trash- the frequent violence is well shot, photographed, choreographed, staged and acted, even if it isn't very imaginative. But the best moment is late in the runtime, where Eve finds a flamethrower and fights a dozen or so unnamed henchmen on her quest for vengeance; I looked but couldn't tell where the special effects took over. It's great fun and culminates into a duel when a baddie gets his own incendiary device, which is even greater fun. I just wish there was more of this inventive mayhem.

The Chancellor is played by Gabriel Byrne, by the way, a fine actor, but films like these live and die on their villain and he's too classical for material like this. Just imagine how good a character actor like James Woods, or the late Dennis Hopper, would have been. But we're stuck with Gabe, who just stands around delivering his vague dialogue like he's in a production that doesn't involve a flamethrower fight in an Austrian tunnel.