Beavis and Butt-Head Do the Universe Review

It's not too often I'm at a loss for words while watching a movie, but Paramount+'s "Beavis and Butt-Head Do the Universe" left me sitting in disbelief throughout it's entire runtime. It's only eighty six minutes but it felt like an eternity, where either A) it wasn't at all funny or B) I didn't get it. I think it's a mix of both.

Writer and creator Mike Judge voices both titular leads, two dimwitted teenagers who, through a long-winded series of events that start with Butt-Head kicking Beavis in the groin and ends with time-travel, alternate dimensions and government agents out to get them. Is there a plot? Does it matter? I'm not sure, but I would answer "no" to both questions.

But the narrative we must discuss, against my better judgement. Starting in 1998, after the duo destroys a school science fair by, yes, pain inflicted to the privates, a judge takes pity on them, sentences them to space camp, and through more miscommunications they end up aboard an actual space shuttle. Why? Because of their natural skills at the center's "docking simulator," which of course is just a sexual joke to them. Things get more complicated when they believe captain Serena (Andrea Savage) wants to "do it" with them, in space. I'm not saying my sense of humor is at all sophisticated, but gosh these two are just dumb.

I guess that's not entire fair- yes Beavis and Butt-Head are dumb, but so is everyone around them.

While above the Earth, things of course go awry thanks to a telescope and the sun, and the team is left with limited oxygen. And boy, is Serena is not having it. She ejects them from the ship, only for them to enter a blackhole, end up in 2022, and well, that's the acid-trip of the plot.

I've got nothing against dumb jokes, but the satire is either vague or right on the nose. Later in the movie, the protagonists end up in a gender studies class where they learn about "white privilege." How do they respond? They lose any care in the world, stealing and destroying property all because that's their understanding of the discrimination. Yeah OK, that's clever, I guess, but so what? The two never seem to grow in any sensible way, and so the attempts at social irony just land with a hard thud. There is no sense of satisfaction with watching any of the actions or events onscreen, which is if that's the point, it paints a grim prediction of American culture. As an American, I don't need idiots to tell me how dumb our culture already is; being a resident is enough.

What am I to do here? I didn't laugh, and I didn't like what I saw, but that doesn't make it a "bad" movie. I suppose fans of the original show, which debuted on MTV in the 90's, will find a lot to like here. They'll probably get a kick out of seeing an old favorite in today's world, with today's sensitivities, but I gave them an hour and a half of my life, and like Beavis and Butt-Head, I didn't learn anything.

Jurassic World: Dominion Review

Dinosaur-lovers have just one franchise to depend on; it's not fair! Superhero fans have at least two major players in the medium, as do spaceheads. But us who identify as pro-prehistoric, it's all on Jurassic Park/World to satisfy our appetite for those long gone animals. The latest film, "Jurassic World: Dominion," is a largely satisfying finish to the hexalogy.

By being the only major dino series, this sixth picture takes some major risks, like getting caught up in the silly theology of the previous five films. Does anyone who didn't attend a day-one screening wearing that familiar T-Rex logo on a tank top really care that Dodgson returns? (Albeit played by Campbell Scott.) Probably not. But hey, it's a wild ride from a wildly uneven property; I mean, how else could explain director Steven Spielberg's turgid "The Lost World: Jurassic Park?"

The plot is, if anyone even cares by this point, involves Owen and Claire (Chris Pratt and Bryce Dallas Howard, respectively), who're raising Maisie (Isabella Sermon), now full of angst. Then she's abducted by the evil Biosyn corporation, along with a baby raptor, the same company Ellie Sattler (Lara Dern) is investigating over genetically engineered locusts with Alan Grant (Sam Neill). Oh yeah, and Ian Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum) works there too.

What in the (jurassic) world do insects have to do with ANYTHING? Well they're bent on destroying the world's food supply, though whether that's intended or a side effect is never really made clear. Why doesn't the government get involved? Well it is their "dinosaur sanctuary" front, and this is where Dodgson comes in. A very loose parody of any rich tech guy today, he's not above getting his hands dirty in the underground illegal living-fossil black market. If this all sounds like some drunk monster mad lib, I assure you that it's all to real. It's ridiculous really, but never confusing, as long as you're fine with accepting the sheer lunacy that the franchise has become. I'm firmly in that camp.

The action, which is far more important here, involves motorcycle chases, dimly lit tunnels where something with a spin may linger, burning bugs falling from the sky (which probably triggered bad memories for the cloned creatures of their ancestors' extinction), it's really all over the place. It doesn't have a point, but I never, not once during its surprisingly long runtime, give a damn.

Its pacing is zippy and is constantly throwing a crazy new plot point, whether a new concept or callback. They even expand on the wackiness of the already nutty concept of the cloned girl from the previous "Fallen Kingdom." The "how" is not something I'm going to spoil, though I will say it's as unnecessary as anything else here.

Actually that's not entirely true: in today's climate, there's an unexpected amount of cultural perspective within its goofy surface. The whole series is inarguably a monster-movie representation of what happens when men try to control women's bodies. Sound familiar?

What about corporate greed? That's here too and one with access to any online forum should know how much people hate that nowadays. (Always?) Oh, and how could I forget non-traditional parents on display? (I mean, she is a clone.) This might be a dumb summer blockbuster, but it's a lot smarter than your average one.

I'm giving this three-stars because it puts dinosaurs in different scenarios, different locations than anything before it. It finds unique ways to recycle what its audience expects, which is all the more surprisingly when you consider its only real competition is "Godzilla." And let's be honest here, America has never really cared about the famous man-in-a-rubber-suit.

I mean I do of course, but look at me- I'm writing about a movie you're gonna buy tickets to anyway, so what do I know? A good time when I see one, that's what.

Interceptor Review

The best part of Netflix's "Interceptor" is a reoccurring cameo by Chris Hemsworth, playing an electronics store clerk, aloof during the threat of over a dozen nuclear missiles blowing up the US. Why's he in this little low-rent "Die Hard" knockoff? Along with executive producing it, his wife Elsa Pataky plays the John McClane character, white-tank top and all. She's a worthwhile star, so it's almost a shame to see her husband's star power being exploited to help subscribers click "play."

She plays Captain J.J. Collins, a victim of cancel culture when she refutes an unwanted sexual advance by a superior. What does that have to do with anything? Well, think of it as the film's way of being "relevant," considering it is very-much a real problem I'm afraid, but it stops short of offering a real victory for the abused.

See, after fellow men (I'm just guessing that women didn't participate) learn of her allegation, they trash her room with most unsavory graffiti, so what does she do? She attempts suicide, a dark backstory to our heroine, but she's saved by, guess what? A man! (A white man at that.) Sure, it's her father, played by Colin Friels, but what kind of message does that send? Man harass woman, woman reports man, other men harass woman, woman tries to kill herself, then other man saves her?

I know that's probably not the intent, since she is shown to be a badass, very-well capable of handing her own, but it goes to show you that either A) I'm reading too much into this or B) Hollywood isn't totally comfortable with an awesome female if she doesn't have some sort of strong man for her to look up to. Maybe it's actually option C) all of the above, but this is the kind of discussion "Interceptor" neither demands nor deserves.

Anyway, as for the actual plot: terrorist Alex Kessel (Luke Bracey) hijacks the only remaining nuke interceptor (ayyye) in the middle of the ocean after one in Alaska is destroyed. All part of his plan of course. With the missiles stolen from Russia (where else?), J.J. and her comrades Rahul (Mayen Mehta) and Beaver (Aaron Glenane) are trapped inside the central command.

The laws of basic actioner demands that, of the three "good guys" will die heroically and one will be a snitch. No spoilers, but never "leave it to beaver..." I'll let you draw your own conclusions here.

But wait- you interject, what about our leading lady? If you've ever seen a movie, ever, like any movie at all, you know what happens to her and the rest of the plot.

Remaining elements are boilerplate, with communication to the suits in "Washington," who just stand around and say "you can't let the bad guys in!" and other commonplace drivel like that. Worth calling out that the president is a woman as well, played by Zoe Carides, but in true cinema fashion, she's completely outnumbered by men at the table.

The only thing left to discuss is the villain, your usual "nice looking manic," but he lacks menace the role demands. He has all the right words to say, but I've seen toasters more threatening than Bracey here.

For a rather low-budget action film, "Interceptor" occasionally tries to look "bigger" than it is, with some dodgy CGI and greenscreen that would only be more noticeable had this been a theatrical release. Still, the mild thrills it offers are indeed thrilling, and it's kinda nice to see a modern "Die Hard" clone.

Last Seen Alive Review

According to a quick Google search, meth use is "not a major threat" in New Hampshire. It is, of course, a terrible drug (and no, I didn't need to Google that), but I digress.

What does any of this have to do with Gerard Butler's latest action thriller "Last Seen Alive?" Well, there is of course illegal drugs involved, but I'm getting ahead of myself and off-topic. The film, which was unceremoniously dumped to streaming this weekend, is more of a New England remix on "Taken," but hey, what aging action hero hasn't had their own, ahem, "take" on Liam Neeson's surprising blockbuster?

Gerard stars as Will Spann, a dumb name if I've ever heard one, who's dropping his estranged wife Lisa (Jaimie Alexander) off at her parents house in the granite state. An innocent stop at a gas station along the way leads to her disappearance, though the trailers give more away then I'm at liberty to. So, what now?

The cops are of course involved, with detective Paterson (Russell Hornsby) working in parallel to our Scottish leading man. "Stay here," our man with a badge tells the panicked husband, but of course he doesn't listen. (If he did, then Gerald would be playing the lawman.) So we get chases, some gunplay, plenty of fists tossed around, a kidnapping or two, all the necessary ingredients for this type of movie.

So where does "Last Seen Alive" stand? It stands right in the middle, a perfectly serviceable popcorn-muncher that lacks its own hook to drive sales. Or maybe in today's climate, a film with a white guy holding a gun on the poster isn't in good taste?

In it's defense, the pacing is rather tight, with many scenes of our hero stalking a would-be bad guy, only for the music would suddenly stop. Now, anyone who's ever seen a movie will tell you, that means something's going to "startle" him or the audience, but not here. There are so many false climaxes that it left me on slight edge.

Still, it is fascinating to see the police shown as competent in this sort of flick, though they're still left picking up the pieces of the wreckage left behind by Mr. Spann. There's glimmers of a more interesting motion picture in the script by Marc Frydman, with deputies and her family initially suspecting the missing woman's spouse. I mean it's not interesting per se, but who did what is almost immediately revealed, so any chance at a plot twist is instantly thrown out the window (that's about a $62 fine in "Live Free or Die" land).

The "why" for any of this happening is not said until much later, but so what? It's a ridiculous reason that boils down to the local drug-lord, his idiot lackies, money, and miscommunication; it's the screenwriting equivalent of saying "what's a thriller movie but two episodes of crime-TV?"

Is that a spoiler? Does it matter? Look, "Last Seen Alive" has Gerard Butler beating up meth-heads with blunt objects, bullets and clenched hands, and on that promise and that promise alone, it delivers the goods. So I ask again, does it matter?

Firestarter Review

During my viewing of "Firestarter," a remake of the 1984 adaptation of the 1980 Stephen King novel, a fruit fly buzzed by constantly. Working alone, or with friends? I don't know, but it's persistence was a distraction I welcomed- this film is a real dud, a failure on its one mission: being scary.

I guess that's not entirely fair- IMDB credits it a "drama" and "sci-fi," in addition to "horror," but look folks, with the original novel's author and production company Blumhouse, yes we expected scares, and there is not a single one here. There's no tension, thrills, or logic either, but one step at a time please.

First, let's address something: I have neither read the book or seen the earlier flick. This allowed me to go in fresh, and what I got in return was stale.

The plot, oh yes, it's so obviously classic Stephen King: a little girl Charlie (Ryan Kiera Armstrong), is bullied at school (in a silly attempt to update things, one of the teases is for "not having Google"), but she holds a secret. A power really, the power to set fire to things using her mind. Her parents Andy and Vicky (Zac Efron and Sydney Lemmon, respectively), who have their own special abilities, are worried that she's unable to control it, and live in constant fear of "bad people." These "bad people" include the vague villain Captain Hollister (Gloria Reuben); she operates a big boring grey building the internet tells is "The Shop," and wants to "study" her. Why? I'm guessing it's because that's where the family's superpowers came from, but I really have no idea, and I don't think she does either.

Really, the whole plot is a riff on King's debut offering "Carrie," although "Firestarter's" director Keith Thomas glosses over characterization in favor of benign dialogue and lots of admittedly impressive fire VFX. There's one scene where Charlie, sorry pet lovers, kills a stray cat for scratching her. It's a dark moment that's tonally incompatible with the rest of the picture, but it stands out as about the only thing I can remember after the credits rolled. 

It's a brief display of something, be it pleasant to watch or not, and the end results are frustratingly boring. The heroine otherwise just makes angry faces while special effects handle the rest of her personality.

Oh, I would be remiss not to mention a cameo by veteran Kurtwood Smith, but he's great in everything he does. Playing Dr. Joseph Wanless, former bigwig of the big bad corporation, he's here to offer doomy warnings about the girl, all while he dumps out Pixie Stix candies. The dude really knows how to make the most with such limited screen time.

Senior Year Review

Rebel Wilson is a natural talent- she has the ability to be funny without doing anything, elevating whatever material she has to work with. In her latest movie "Senior Year," transcends the treacle plot and imbues honesty and care into what is essentially a joke character.

She plays Steph, a woman who's awoken from a coma, finding she's almost forty but never finished her, ahem, senior year of high school. In a most sitcom level narrative, she decides to return there and win prom queen, get popular, yada yada yada. Again, this is all basic stuff with, a hodgepodge of themes lifted from other movies and shows, but we're not here to make a case study on the believability of the script; we're here to laugh, and thanks mostly to our shiny lead, we do and do frequently.

A bit of comedic mileage comes from her adjusting to 2022, from cell phones to language about inclusion, about everything you'd expect, but it doesn't take too long before she's using her "Insta" to get followers. If anything, it reminds me how much I hated high school, and much I hate social media. (Oh and don't forget to "like and subscribe," readers!)

It doesn't make sense how quickly she's adjusted to the new decade, and there was a lot of wasted potential here; it's just an excuse to provide secondary conflict, where she needs to work to get the present comparable to the past, and that narrative copout hurts. 

There's the old rival (Zoë Chao), the former flame (Justin Hartley), the friend who wants to be more than "just" friends (Sam Richardson), all the usual ingredients. And when first time director Alex Hardcastle finds his rhythm, "Senior Year" is really, genuinely funny. But he can't maintain a proper balance between humor and drama.

I mean, "Senior Year" is essentially an underdog tale about "looking forward" and "being who you really are- that's great, and Steph's backstory about her mom's passing to cancer is tragic. But so what? Any emotional weight is constantly undermined by jokes involving, but by no means limited to, dildos, puking, and infidelity (though surprisingly not all at once). Oh yeah, and often in a high school setting within earshot of teenagers.

I'm not adverse to mature comedy, but these scenes are glaring against moments of 1980's coming-to-age sappiness. If you're going to give me fresh jokes, give me a fresh story!

By failing to invest in anybody in the picture, I essentially sat back and waited for the next punchline: a feature-length window dressing to showcase Rebel Wilson's talents. Yet for how good she is here, nobody seems to learn that just referencing something from the past doesn't make it relevant in the present. As for what the future holds? Well, all I can tell you is that, no, I will probably not win prom queen.

Memory Review

Tell me if you've heard this before: Liam Neeson plays a hitman in a new action-thriller.

In "Memory," the Irishman's latest film, things are a bit more complicated than, let's say his previous 2022 effort "Blacklight:" he has early onset dementia. This gives our veteran hero/antihero something meaty to sink his teeth into. Or rather, something meatier than anything he's done in recent memory. (I really hope I'm the first critic who's said that.)

The best action movies all have three basic ingredients: great action, great acting and a great script. The good ones can get by on just two, and we don't really talk about the rest. Director Martin Campbell brings the first point in spades, like he always does. What about Liam? He's commendable as ever, an attractive screen presence who's dedication to every line of dialogue as if it's written gold. The issue with "Memory" is that the screenplay is only OK, and with anyone else in-front or behind the camera, this flick would, ahem, fade from, well, you know.

Anyway, the actual narrative involves Neeson playing Alex Lewis, an aging assassin who's concerned his impairment is interfering with his profession. His next victim is a teenager who's pimping father was recently killed during a sting operation by FBI agent Serra (Guy Pearce), Alex doesn't snuff kids. Good for him (and very good for her), but his employer simply hires someone else to "take care" of what he wouldn't. The remainder is a familiar cat-and-mouse game between the hired-gun and the feds, both working separately to take down the same person. Or is it people? Ooo, the suspense.

If it sounds like I'm picking on the movie, I'm not. In fact, I admired much of it, from its brutal deaths to its commitment to such a serious gimmick, losing me only when I realize that its existence is to make entertainment out of illness and child sex-trafficking.

The whole thing reminds me of 1989's "Kinjite: Forbidden Subjects," as if you wouldn't get a Charles Bronson mention in a Liam Neeson review. Both are well-produced films, showcasing elder action stars doing things their body shouldn't naturally allow for, but this one punctuates its brisk pace with a sad undercurrent about getting older. "Memory" is also far less exploitative, but it's subject matter isn't something that easily makes for cinematic comfort food. This point rears its ugly head every time I think back fondly on it, begging me to forgive its slimy backstory in spite of its technical expertise.

Have it be known that I'm fully aware that underage prostitution is something as common on a network TV crime series as cops; I'm also not forgetting why Neeson's daughter was taken in, well, "Taken." I guess what I'm saying is, "Memory" is R-rated, and without anything but good taste to stop the filmmakers from actually showing what nobody wants to see, I realize I'm not comfortable with this material.

What am I to do here? I can recommend this remake of the Belgian "The Memory of a Killer," which was unseen by me, for fans of the actor. The rest? Well, I'm sure you thought this was "Taken 9."