Nobody 2: Escapist wretched excess

Nobody 2 (2025) • View trailer

Three stars (out of five). Rated R, for relentless profanity and strong, bloody violence

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.17.25 

This is the guiltiest of guilty pleasures.

 

Director Timo Tjahjanto’s deplorably violent thriller is palatable solely because of the macabre dark humor in Derek Kolstad and Aaron Rabin’s crazy script, and the hilariously stoic performance by star Bob Odenkirk.

 

Four men get into an elevator, followed by the apparently mild-mannered Hutch Mansell
(Bob Odenkirk, center). How many will survive the trip?

The result is so excessively outrageous, that you can’t help laughing ... although you’ll likely feel guilty for having done so, when later describing this film to more conservative friends.

In this film’s 2021 predecessor, Hutch Mansell (Odenkirk) was introduced as a mundane office worker whose bland life concealed the fact that he was a former “auditor” (assassin) employed by the U.S. Intelligence Community. His ordinary existence — alongside emotionally starved wife Becca (Connie Nielsen), teenage son Brady (Gage Munroe) and adolescent daughter Sammy (Paisley Cadorath) — was interrupted by “events beyond his control.” In the aftermath, he and his family began anew.

 

Except not really, as this sequel quickly makes clear. A fleeting prologue, mimicking an identical scene in the earlier film, finds a bruised and badly damaged Hutch being interrogated by FBI agents ... this time alongside a large dog with a soulful gaze.

 

One bewildered agent asks, “Who are you?,” prompting Hutch to respond via a long flashback.

 

Things having gone very wrong during the intervening years, Hutch now spends his days “processing” assignments for “The Barber” (Colin Salmon), his former government handler. Hutch is slowly working off a $30 million debt incurred when he earlier destroyed the Russian Mob’s cash reserve.

 

Sadly, the constant daily grind — skirmishes, fights, all-out melees — have taken a toll on Hutch’s marriage and home life. He barely sees his wife and children, and Becca — fully aware of what he does, although this is kept from their children — flirts with the notion of leaving him.

 

Hutch isn’t blind; he recognizes the need to make amends. He therefore proposes a vacation to Wild Bill’s Majestic Midway and Waterpark, a family-friendly theme park in nearby Plummerville. It was the one and only place where Hutch and his brother Harry went on vacation as kids. In short, it’s one of Hutch’s few happy childhood memories.

 

(Filming actually took place in Winnipeg, Manitoba; production designer Michael Diner was inspired by classic Midwestern Americana burgs like the Wisconsin Dells, where Odenkirk’s family vacationed when he was a kid.)

 

The Barber tolerates this brief respite, albeit with a warning: “Wherever you go, you’ll be you.”

 

Meaning, Hutch can’t help finding trouble that needs to be extinguished.

Gladiator II: Let the games resume!

Gladiator II (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for strong, bloody violence

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

Although the lengthy gap between this film and director Ridley Scott’s predecessor seems an eyebrow lift, scripters David Scarpa and Peter Craig cleverly work that passage of time into their plot.

 

Although Lucius (Paul Mescal) isn't expected to survive his first bout in the Coliseum,
he proves unexpectedly resourceful ... much to the delight of the crowd, which has
long thirsted for a new champion.

Fifteen years have passed since Russell Crowe’s Maximus Decimus Meridius hoped, with his dying breath, that Rome would return to the honorably glory that it had enjoyed under the rule of Emperor Marcus Aurelius. 

Alas, things didn’t turn out that way; Rome has come under the rule of sadistic twin emperors Geta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger). They’re reckless, with no sense of history, and believe in chaos, violence and conquest for its own sake. Their Roman Empire exists solely to expand its borders, pillaging every culture in its path, and forcing survivors to fight for their lives in the Colosseum.

 

Their realm’s citizens are in a very, very bad way. Rome has failed its people; Geta and Caracalla couldn’t care less. They’re vain, decadent, hedonistic and quite mad; Geta is a diabolical schemer, while Caracalla — never without his beloved pet monkey, Dundus — is completely unhinged.

 

Quinn and Hechinger plunge into these roles with unrestrained enthusiasm, making the twin emperors flat-out scary, unpredictable and detestable.

 

The story begins as their favorite warrior, Gen. Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal), leads the Roman navy across the sea to conquer the coastal realm of Numidia, where Lucius (Paul Mescal) farms with his beloved wife, Arishat (Yuval Gonen). 

 

(Viewers with good memories will recognize the name Lucius.)

 

He and Arishat join the forces protecting their walled city, in a jaw-dropping action sequence orchestrated by Scott, production designer Arthur Max, special effects supervisor Neil Corbould, visual effects supervisor Mark Bakowski, and supervising sound editors Matthew Collinge and Danny Sheehan.

 

The melee lasts almost 20 minutes, with a barrage of battle galleons, swords, bows, knives, catapults, trebuchets, flaming projectiles and what seems like thousands of warriors. It’s awesome.

 

Alas, things doesn’t go well for Lucius. He and the other male Numidian survivors are carted to a rigorous — and deadly — gladiator training camp run by the formidable Viggo (Lior Raz, who has a marvelous scowl). 

 

Wonder Woman 1984: Far from wonder-ful

Wonder Woman 1984 (2020) • View trailer

2.5 stars. Rated PG-13, for fantasy violence

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 1.15.21

The sophomore curse has struck again.

 

At 151 minutes, director Patty Jenkins’ second shot at the Amazing Amazon, exclusive to HBO MAX, overstays its welcome by at least half an hour. The script — by Jenkins, Geoff Johns and Dave Callaham — hasn’t anywhere near the depth to sustain such length.

 

While a dismayed Steve (Chris Pine) watches, Diana (Gal Gadot) learns something
quite sinister about the mysterious "Dreamstone" that is causing so much trouble.

On top of which, while Pedro Pascal may be a pop-culture sensation as The Mandalorian, he makes a truly terrible primary villain here. His Maxwell Lord is a burlesque Trumpian megalomaniac: absolutely not worth Wonder Woman’s time (or ours).

 

Kristen Wiig fares better as secondary villain Barbara Minerva, because she has a well-defined — and genuinely interesting — character arc. Lord, in contrast, starts out as a clownish goofball … and stays that way.

 

On the positive side, Jenkins’ overall approach remains better than usual for this genre. Far too many superhero films seem like relentless, landscape-leveling slugfests; Jenkins allows her characters plenty of quieter moments, and the judicious action sequences are much more organic to the story being told. 

 

Given that 99.9 percent of the Marvel and DC superhero epics are directed by guys, I’m obliged to credit Jenkins’ female touch.

 

But insisting on scripting involvement — which wasn’t the case, with the first film — clearly affected her judgment.

 

This sequel opens with a superfluous prologue set during Diana Prince’s childhood on Themyscira. Although Lilly Aspell is a crackerjack adolescent Diana during the running, climbing, jumping, riding and swimming climax of the Amazon Games — editor Richard Pearson paces this with verve — this sequence has absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the film.

 

It clearly should have been included as part of the first film’s origin details. Here, it seems little more than an excuse for Connie Nielsen and Robin Wright to pop up again (albeit fleetingly) as, respectively, Diana’s mother Hippolyta, and Aunt Antiope.

 

Flash-forward to 1984, with the adult Diana (Gal Gadot) now firmly ensconced as an anthropologist and archaeologist, curating ancient artifacts at the Smithsonian. She leads a quiet life and keeps a low profile, even when donning her flamboyant “work togs” as Wonder Woman. (She seems to be keeping her super deed-doing something of a secret, which is puzzling.)

 

Justice League: And so it begins...

Justice League (2017) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated PG-13, for sci-fi action and violence
By Derrick Bang

Seeing director Zack Snyder’s name attached to this film was not happy news, given the degree to which he ruined both 2013’s Man of Steel and last year’s Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice.

Having responded to the bat-signal illuminated by Police Commissioner Gordon (J.K.
Simmons, far left), the newly formed Justice League — from left, Wonder Woman (Gal
Gadot), Cyborg (Ray Fisher), Batman (Ben Affleck) and The Flash (Ezra Miller) —
learn that Gotham City is, once again, in serious trouble.

Snyder has much in common with director Michael Bay, similarly notorious for the Transformers franchise. Both favor bloated, soulless, humorless slugfests that wreak havoc on landscapes and cityscapes, while casually snuffing hundreds (thousands?) of civilian bystanders. Their films are the very definition of mindless product over art.

On the other hand, I was cheered to note Joss Whedon as co-scripter on Justice League. As the writer/director of 2012’s The Avengers, Whedon established the template for solid, successful superhero epics. Fans have recognized Whedon’s gift since television’s Buffy slayed her first vampire, back in 1996: He has an unerring talent for blending action fantasy with a (frequently droll) human element, which eases our suspension of disbelief.

And is a helluva lot more fun.

It’s easy to spot Whedon’s touch in Justice League, which is most successful during its first and second acts, as the stage is set, and the players assembled. It’s equally easy to see that the third act belongs to Snyder ... but not entirely. Even here, we get the vicarious relief of the unmistakable Whedon touch.

Justice League picks up in the immediate wake of Batman v Superman. The latter is dead, having perished at the hands of a Kryptonian monster genetically engineered by the villainous Lex Luthor. The country (the world?) is sliding quickly into anarchy, humanity apparently having abandoned hope after losing its gallant symbol for truth, justice and the American way.

(Ah ... but is Big Blue really, truly dead?)

Bruce Wayne (Batman) and Diana Prince (the Amazon Wonder Woman) are doing their best to stem the lawless tide, but they operate in the shadows; they’re not “living symbols” in the manner of Superman. Worse yet, Batman has been encountering winged “parademons” — very hard to kill — that seem to be seeking something.

Mindful of the need for additional super-powered allies, in order to hold off whatever comes next, Bruce and Diana reach out to three promising individuals: Barry Allen (Ezra Miller), a twentysomething nerd transformed by a lightning strike into The Flash; Arthur Curry (Jason Momoa), dubbed Aquaman, and heir to the underwater kingdom of Atlantis; and Victor Stone (Ray Fisher), a once-promising college football player nearly killed in a horrific accident, and “saved” when his scientist father Silas (Joe Morton) employed alien tech to transform his son into the biomechanical Cyborg.

Wonder Woman: The Amazon goddess gets her due

Wonder Woman (2017) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG-13, for fantasy violence, dramatic intensity and mild sensuality
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.2.17

It’s darn well about time.

During the big-screen superhero eruption that began when Christopher Reeve first donned Superman’s iconic blue-and-red garb back in 1978, no super-heroine has been able to carry her own film.

Although Diana (Gal Gadot, center) reluctantly allows Steve (Chris Pine) and Etta (Lucy
Davis) to dress her in the fashion of the day, she's unwilling to abandon the sword and
shield that define her as an Amazon goddess ... which presents a bit of a problem.

Until now.

(Misfires such as 2004’s Catwoman and ’05’s Elektra are best left forgotten.)

We caught a glimpse of Gal Gadot’s interpretation of Wonder Woman in last year’s Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice, and there’s no question: The 5-foot-10 Israeli actress sold the outfit and the essential regal bearing. But that soulless film gave her no opportunity for anything approaching emotional gravitas, so the jury remained out.

Until now.

Director Patty Jenkins’ thoroughly engaging depiction of Diana — first daughter of the sheltered Amazonian island of Themyscira — owes its heart to both Gadot and a respectful script from Allan Heinberg, Zack Snyder and Jason Fuchs. The narrative honors the character’s origin, as laid down in October 1941, in issue No. 8 of DC’s All Star Comics.

Much more crucially, this film blends its myth-making and furious action with just the right touch of humor: a droll undertone that has been lamentably absent in recent Batman and Superman entries. Much of this wit derives from Diana’s fish-out-of-water reaction to so-called civilized society, which Gadot displays with a charming balance of innocence and sparkle. She definitely catches her character’s (ahem) sense of wonder.

But that’s getting ahead of things. Diana’s story begins on Themyscira, where — rather oddly — she’s the only child amid hundreds of Amazon warriors. She’s a precocious child (adorably played by Lilly Aspell), eager to battle-train, but her mother (Connie Nielsen, as Queen Hippolyta) rejects the very notion. Diana thus practices in secret, under the tutelage of champion warrior Antiope (Robin Wright).

The years pass; Diana achieves maturity. Fate places her on a high island cliff just as a strange object — a crippled plane — penetrates the invisible “cloak” that conceals Themyscira from the outer world. The craft crash-lands and sinks rapidly beneath the ocean waves; the quick-thinking Diana rescues the lone pilot just in time, thereby getting her first glimpse of a man.

3 Days to Kill: Silly spy stuff

3 Days to Kill (2014) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rating: PG-13, despite considerable intense violence, profanity and lurid sensuality
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 2.21.14

In theory, teaming French action filmmaker Luc Besson and American action director Joseph McGinty Nichol — who prefers the nom de guerre “McG” — should produce the perfect cinematic marriage.

Once past her initial hostility, Zoey (Hailee Steinfeld) decides that she likes having her
father, Ethan (Kevin Costner), back in her life. Unfortunately, their fragile bonding
efforts keep getting interrupted by Ethan's demanding boss, with fresh bad guys for
him to find and kill.

The former is a one-man movie machine well known for (among many others) La Femme Nikita, Jason Statham’s Transporter series and Liam Neeson’s Taken series; the latter is perhaps notorious for the two big-screen Charlie’s Angels entries and 2009’s Terminator Salvation.

Assuming your desires extend no further than noisy, attitude-laden eye candy, what could possibly go wrong when these two fellas get together?

Clashing sensibilities, of course.

3 Days to Kill — directed by McG, written by Besson and Adi Hasak — proudly displays its comic book tone right up front, as veteran CIA agent Ethan Renner (Kevin Costner) and a sizable team prepare to capture nasty international terrorists laughably known only as The Albino (Tómas Lemarquis) and The Wolf (Richard Sammel). The operation goes awry, and the baddies get away, much to the annoyance of CIA handler Vivi Delay (Amber Heard), sent by Washington to monitor the situation.

Worse yet, Ethan gets rather bad news while recuperating from injuries sustained during this fiasco: a diagnosis of advanced terminal cancer that’ll kill him in a few months. Not that this will stop any of the action to come; just as Ali MacGraw became more radiantly beautiful, the sicker she got in 1970’s Love Story, ol’ Ethan loses none of his flair for beating up on baddies twice his size and half his age.

Even so, he’s tired and discouraged, and wants to spend his remaining time with his ex-wife, Christine (Connie Nielsen), and long-estranged teenage daughter, Zoey (Hailee Steinfeld), both living in Paris. But catching up on a decade’s worth of missed birthdays and youthful milestones isn’t easy, and Zoey isn’t about to cut him any slack.

On top of which, Vivi rather inexplicably wants Ethan to finish the botched pursuit of The Albino and The Wolf. I say “inexplicably” because Vivi clearly has the resources, the ruthless attitude and the improbable skills necessary to complete the assignment herself, likely in half the time.

As conceived and audaciously played by Heard, Vivi is equal parts Marvel Comics’ Black Widow, Sidney Bristow (from TV’s Alias) and strip club lap dancer. Why waste time with the dying Ethan, who’s obviously — in Vivi’s mind — long past his sell-by date?

Well, because the script says so.