Shaft (2019) Review

What's to say about "Shaft," the 5th film in the franchise (and third named "Shaft," grumble grumble), except that someone high up at Warner Bros. Pictures thinks that it's just sexist, homophobic, racist, raunchy, and tacky jokes. Samuel L. Jackson (playing Shaft Jr. for the second time) just walks around, cooly swearing, cracking a lot of much of the aforesaid inane punchlines- at least he looks cool. He is about the only reason to see this, if you can get past his vulgarities, of which there are plenty. The catch, or crutch, this time is his son, Shaft III (Jessie Usher), who was abandoned by his pa at a young age (terrific plot for "Father's Day weekend"), finds himself needing his dad's help investigating the allegedly wrongful death of his friend. Oh and I forgot to mention that Shaft, the real Shaft, played by Richard Roundtree- that's three Shafts for the price of one!

This newest Shaft (Shaft Jr. Jr., or Baby Shaft, or Rugrat Shaft or...) is far from up-to-snuff of living up to Samuel's acting giftedness, who's presence on the screen is so weak you often forget he's even a main character (hey, I might not agree with what Samuel is saying, but I do love how he's saying it). But he is the voice of reason, arguing about how "wrong" the overall tone of the film is with Shaft Jr., and although he's ultimately right, by the end of the film sports an itchy trigger-finger, just like his dad. The only voice of reason in the entire flick becomes what he hates- what kind of message is that?? Even Shaft Jr.'s ex-wife Maya (Regina Hall) is a terrible person; oh sure, she pretends that he hates the ways of her previous husband, but literally, and I mean "literally," every other word she says is the "f" word (it'd make a good drinking game I suppose), and she can't help herself but find herself aroused by the "manliness" of Shaft Jr. (and Shaft Jr. doesn't waste any opportunity to remind her). Usually, characters so tawdry exists to counter another character with an opposing point of view. Problem is in "Shaft," crudeness wins by a landslide.

The plot is standard grade murky TV crime-thriller material, with double-crossing, false police reports, shootouts, all the usual suspects. But not only is the tone of the film particularly nasty, but none of the narrative is handled with grace, and most egregiously is how poor the action is handled. To be honest, all three Shafts are practically conscientious objectors here, aside from a handful of gunfights (I counted 2, though with the way this thing is paced, edited and filmed, I wouldn't be surprised if I missed one, or one was cut entirely but the plot forgot). Oh sure, they talk a big game (a racist, homophobic, sexist game) but most of the film is shockingly tasteless dialogue spewed from any of the leading actors or actresses as they drive from one stereotypical "Harlem" building to the next (you know the type, ones with drug-dealers). When we do get to any real action, all the actors move as if their shoes are nailed to the ground; they just stand there, bang bang bang. Bad guys dead. Girl paws over whichever Shaft is theirs (or used to be). How thrilling.

But the audience I saw this with, let me tell you, they laughed and reacted as if they had seen a completely different movie than me. And it was infectious- I found myself laughing with them, even though I disagree with what I was laughing along to. I wondered where my integrity had gone. What happened to my sense of humor? Does this ultimately warrant a recommendation? Well, only if you see it in a crowded theater, and easily succumb to peer pressure.

Godzilla: King of the Monsters Review

What a world we live in. There are two Godzilla series coexisting, one in Hollywood and one in his hometown, although neither series really got off to a good start. Oh sure, the 2014 USA adaptation, as well as the 2016 Japanese reboot, were welcome returns to the king of monsters, but the failed to do anything creative with the property. Yes yes I know, it's a blast to see a giant monster movie on the big screen (ask any "man-child"), but how many times can we justify swerving the camera off of creatures destroying buildings to disinteresting humans discussing the same thing? The same thing is how to destroy the monsters, of course, and although it's practically a tradition at this point (this is the 35th film in the franchise), one would think that someone at franchise owner Toho would say "hey, haven't audiences seen this before" and, you know, try something new?

But I'm getting off topic here- this isn't a review of the current state of Godzilla, but rather the newest iteration in the franchise. I'm not going to bother talking about the confusing name... actually I am. It's a stupid one, as it's almost identical to the American reedit of the first picture (which was "Godzilla, King of the Monsters!")- hell actually ignore my complaints about the title. What's the point? There are so many sequels, reboots, adaptations, and ripoffs that titling is always going to be a mess (though I'd say "Godzilla 2" would have worked just fine).

The plot this time is an overstuffed buffet of needless, bromidic characters who go over every obligatory beat (spoiler alert, the military wants to destroy Godzilla). That's fine, that's fine, I get it. It's a Godzilla movie; like the James Bond movies, audiences expect familiar scenes, plot-points and character types. But this narrative is just so cluttered, as if screenwriters Michael Dougherty and Zach Shields threw every underdeveloped idea into the script without ever asking "why." We have Mark Russell (Kyle Chandler), our primary protagonist, chasing after his daughter (Millie Bobby Brown) and his ex-wife Emma (Vera Farmiga), who uses a device called the "Orca" to communicate with Godzilla and his pals. But that's not all! We have a secret government organization called Monarch. We have the military throwing their hat into the ring by using the "Oxygen Destroyer," from the first film in the franchise. We have Godzilla becoming a nuclear bomb (straight from, well, off of the top of my head, "Godzilla vs. Destroyah?"). We have a divorced couple argue about what's best for their daughter. And there are courtroom scenes where politicians argue. Oh, there are also characters polluted by monster-prejudice. There is just too much going on here!

Back to Emma. Her plan is to awaken the various monsters in the world so they can "reset" the damage done by mankind and live "alongside them" (blah blah blah "the world originally belonged to these creatures" blah blah blah). It's an absolute bonker plot, but it's not an original one; I heard it first in the 1993's mockbuster "Carnosaur," only Emma here is less interesting a character than that film's Dr. Tiptree, played with unbridled intensity and grace by the great Diane Ladd. Whether Emma is an antagonist or misunderstood is never really explained or followed up on.

This Orca thing is the silliest of items, as it talks to the monsters by emitting frequencies only they can hear. Even a dummy like me knows that these frequencies can only be heard from so far away, yet creatures hundreds of feet tall have no trouble hearing them when the device is at human height. OK I'll buy that. It's a creature-feature after all. But then when they need to reach monsters across the globe, they just plug it into Fenway Stadium and use its speakers to make a long-distance call to Rodan and friends. How far do these frequencies travel? Why do I care? I just want to sit back and watch CGI behemoths (well, I'd prefer men in rubber suits) beat the snot out of each other- if a movie shows me that it is attempting to offer a scientific explanation, then I'm going to have to use my brain. I promised mine it would be on autopilot.

Other gears in the machine are just as rusty. It's revealed not too late into the picture that Emma doesn't want to kill the human race, only for titans to live in harmony with humans. Yet she has no problems when her associate Alan Jonah (Charles Dance) shoots up her lab and kills everyone but her and her daughter so they can go off and wake up the other creatures sleeping across the globe. There has to have been a more subtle way to get the device out of the lab- she works there! It's about the size of a bulky laptop- just slip it into a backpack and leave the building! I suppose a peaceful, nonchalant exit from the lab would have been less "cinematic." It's not like Alan is ever really explained to be "evil," he quips that she approached him about organizing the whole thing. One character calls him an "eco-terrorist," but I dunno, aside from killing some people during his introduction, he just sorta stands there. He has no villainous monologue, nothing that help me the viewer know he's bad, or supposed to be, unless I remember he shot a guy or two.

Here's another one! When, after they find Godzilla "healing" after getting beat-up mid-picture, they try and locate him underwater so they can fire a nuclear missile at him to accelerate his regen (he's empowered by nuclear radiation, don't ya know). But they can't get too close because of the high levels of radiation. That's sounds all good, but once the blast, the nuclear blast goes off and their submarine narrowly escapes it, they quickly surface and stand on the top of the sub. And Godzilla resurfaces and they go face-to-face with him. Weren't they just worried about radiation? (I'm sure their teeth have never been whiter.)

The biggest issue here is that the parts where Godzilla and company fight each other are so good, the parts where people talk are so tedious. And that's one thing I haven't been able to write about- the battles, and boy are they spectacular! So many shots are filled with wonder and awe, and topped off with little touches, like how heavy the monsters look when moving, things like that. How bad is everything else? Consider how perhaps the best line in the movie isn't spoken; rather, it's written, near the bottom of the credits. It was something like "... no animals were harmed in the making of this motion picture." I'm sure PETA will be happy to hear that the wild Godzillas were treated humanely.