The Fantastic Four: First Steps — Fourth time's the charm!

The Fantastic Four: First Steps (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity, action violence and mild profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.10.25 

We’ve certainly waited long enough.

 

After this seminal superhero team’s disastrous earlier big-screen outings — in 2005, ’07 and ’15 — Marvel Cinematic Universe fans and long-time comic book nerds were understandably wary of this new attempt.

 

Ben (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) has a polite "discussion" with the Fantastic Four's helpful
robot, H.E.R.B.I.E., regarding the proper way to cook a meal.

Well, worry no longer. Director Matt Shakman and five credited scripters — Josh Friedman, Eric Pearson, Jeff Kaplan, Ian Springer and Kat Wood — have done right by this quartet of blue-costumed champions.

You’ll be charmed immediately by the film’s look and atmosphere. Production designer Kasra Farahani establishes a retro-futuristic style that evokes the era when writer Stan Lee and artist Jack Kirby debuted their comic book series in November 1961. It’s a time when recordings still are made via vinyl discs and reel-to-reel tape, with fashion, cars and household accessories in a mischievous, not-quite-accurate reflection of what our grandparents wore, drove and used, back in the day.

 

A television documentary-style flashback celebrates the quartet’s fourth anniversary in a kinder, gentler world — this is Earth 828, in the multiverse — where they’re beloved by everybody, and nations peacefully cooperate amid mutual respect.

 

(God knows, this sure isn’t our Earth.)

 

The flashback clips describe how Dr. Reed Richards (Pedro Pascal), Ben Grimm (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), Sue Storm (Vanessa Kirby) and her younger brother Johnny (Joseph Quinn) were bombarded by cosmic rays during an outer space mission, granting them unusual powers as, respectively, the stretchable Mr. Fantastic, the super-strong Thing, the Invisible Woman and the Human Torch.

 

Scenes of the quartet saving civilians during natural disasters are intercut with battles against more ambitious foes; longtime comic book fans will smile when the FF’s first issue cover image monster and villain — the Mole Man — are referenced. Reed and Sue subsequently married, and the quartet established a fancy headquarters in New York’s iconic Baxter Building.

 

Moving to the present day, Shakman and his scripters take their time with the first act, focusing on the quartet’s “down time” behavior and interpersonal dynamics: the “human element” that immediately set Marvel Comics characters apart from their DC competitors (Superman, Batman, etc.). These four people are messy, and they struggle with relatable problems.

 

Reed, the resident scientist, agonizes over decisions big and small, constantly second-guessing himself; Pascal displays the right blend of analytical sharpness and emotional befuddlement. Sue, the group’s heart and calming influence, also is an accomplished diplomat for world peace; Kirby delivers a performance that radiates warmth, caring ... and a ferocious degree of protectiveness.

 

To the casual eye, Ben and Johnny are like squabbling brothers, the latter forever trying to get under the former’s rock-hard skin. Quinn emphasizes his character’s sloppy and often reckless behavior, particularly during a crisis. Moss-Bachrach’s Ben, finally, is the group’s tragic member: forever trapped in an oversized orange body that may delight children, but is a constant reminder that he’s unlikely to enjoy the sort of romantic relationship shared by Reed and Sue.

 

These folks are fun, behind the scenes. They’re like family.

 

The Luckiest Man in America: A quirky, fact-based morality tale

The Luckiest Man in America (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for frequent profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

This is an excellent thematic companion to 1994’s Quiz Show.

 

But while that earlier game show scandal drama is a handsomely mounted major studio production, this new film from director/co-scripter Samir Oliveros is cheekily retro and unapologetically low-budget ... which adds to its sense of period authenticity.

 

While fellow contestant Ed Long (Brian Geraghty, left) watches attentively, Michael Larson
(Paul Walter Hauser) prepares for his firt spin of the "Big Board" on the TV game show
Press Your Luck.

Modest production values aside, Oliveros nonetheless gets the most from a strong cast, as this jaw-dropping saga unfolds. And although he and co-writers Mattie Briggs and Amanda Freedman carefully insist that some details have been “massaged” for dramatic intensity, much of what unfolds here — including the names of all key participants — goes down just as it happened.

Following a brief first act, events take place during a single day of taping for Press Your Luck, a CBS game show that ran from 1983 to 1986 ... and likely would be entirely forgotten today, were it not for what happened on May 19, 1984.

 

Shy, withdrawn, down-on-his-luck ice cream truck driver Michael Larson (Paul Walter Hauser), a hapless social misfit, sneaks into Press Your Luck auditions. He cheekily claims somebody else’s appointment slot, gets caught and ejected ... but not before winning over executive producer Bill Carruthers (David Strathairn), who suspects the guy would make “good television.”

 

Michael has a great back-story. He admits driving across the entire country in his ice cream truck, and hopes to win enough cash to impress his estranged wife and young daughter.

 

Casting director Chuck (Shamier Anderson) is dubious. Something doesn’t seem right about the guy.

 

Carruthers nonetheless books Michael for the next day’s taping. As requested, he arrives wearing a suit jacket and tie ... making him even more comical, atop baggy shorts (which won’t be visible during taping). The obviously nervous and twitchy Michael is ushered onto the set by Sylvia (Maisie Williams), a kind-hearted production assistant who nonetheless eyes him warily.

 

Michael takes the middle “hot seat” between co-contestants Ed Long (Brian Geraghty) and Janie Litras (Patti Harrison): the former a minister, the latter a dental assistant.

 

Walton Goggins is note-perfect as smarmy show host Peter Tomarken, whose occasional off-color jokes — sometimes at the expense of contestants — delight the studio audience.

 

(Tomarken is a product of that still less-enlightened time. Remember how Richard Dawson always kissed every female contestants on Family Feud? Yuck!)

Orion and The Dark: Joyously illuminating

Orion and The Dark (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated TV-Y7, and suitable for all ages

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

As he introduces himself, at the beginning of this delightful animated film, Orion claims to be “a kid just like you.”

 

But that isn’t quite true.

 

Orion is understandably apprehensive when his late-night bedroom is invaded by a
partially shapeless, ink-black apparition that introduces himself as Dark.

All kids fret about this or that, but Orion’s fears are on an entirely different level. To quote Charlie Brown, his anxieties have anxieties.

As Orion soon confesses, he worries about...

 

• Murderous gutter clowns;

 

• Cancer-causing cell phone waves;

 

• Mosquito bites getting infected, causing a limb to wither and drop off;

 

• Falling off a skyscraper;

 

• Being responsible for his team losing;

 

• Being rejected by Sally, the girl he worships from afar;

 

• School locker rooms, particularly when local bully Richie Panici is present; and

 

• Bees, dogs, the ocean, haircuts and monsters.

 

All of this is depicted in a colorful, crayon-style animated rush lifted from the artwork in Orion’s personal journal: a style distinct from the more traditional animation work in this DreamWorks charmer from director Sean Charmatz, making an impressive big-screen feature debut.

 

Most of all, though, Orion is afraid of the dark. He insists on sleeping with night lights, and his bedroom door open. His tolerant parents haven’t quite given up on him, but they’re running out of ideas; he blatantly rejects their insistence that much of what he professes to fear would be fun, if he simply yielded to the moment.

 

“Fun?” he retorts. “Fun is just a word people made up, to make danger sound more appealing!”

 

Orion and The Dark is adapted from British author Emma Yarlett’s captivating 2014 children’s picture book ... although “adapted” isn’t quite the right word. Her book actually is a jumping-off point for a pleasantly mind-boggling script by Charlie Kaufman, who previously perplexed our brains with Being John Malkovich, Adaptation and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (the latter earning him a well-deserved Academy Award).

 

Trust Kaufman to weave a singularly unique, existentialist storytelling style into a children’s fantasy, while smoothly blending this with Yarlett’s gentle wisdoms.

Cruella: Ninety-eight Dalmatians short

Cruella (2021) • View trailer

3.5 stars. Rated PG, for dramatic intensity and mild violence

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.11.21

This is not your grandparents’ Cruella De Vil.

 

Actually, I’m not sure whose Cruella it is.

 

Horace (Paul Walter Hauser, left) and Jasper (Joel Fry) recognize that their equally
larcenous partner, Estella (Emma Store), also has the talent to become a famous
fashion designer ... but the chances of that actually happening seem quite remote.

Director Craig Gillespie’s fresh take on the character — available in movie theaters and via Disney+ — isn’t merely an origin story; it’s an historical re-write. The script — which apparently required five (!) credited writers — has absolutely nothing to do with 1961’s animated film or Dodie Smith’s 1956 novel, aside from borrowing the names of a few characters.

Which therefore begs the usual question: Why employ a well-known pop-culture character at all, if there’s no willingness to honor its roots? Why not simply create a fresh character, and start a new franchise?

 

On top of which, why update a beloved and still-popular children’s story, when the resulting new film is aimed more toward adults, and is likely to bore younger viewers?

 

Hollywood never ceases to bewilder.

 

All this said, Cruella is entertaining — to a point — thanks in great part to Emma Stone’s flamboyant, scenery-chewing performance as the title character. She’s ably supported by the hilariously kitschy efforts of production designer Fiona Crombie and costume designer Jenny Beavan (along with “eyewear designer” Tom Davies, who, quite deservedly, gets his own separate credit).

 

Gillespie and editor Tatiana S. Riegel romp through all these sets and locations with the giddiness of children on a particularly lavish theme park ride: all manner of extended takes, smash close-ups, cockeyed camera angles — cinematographer Nicolas Karakatsanis also deserves a bow — and other visual tics and hiccups.

 

No question: Cruella is fun to watch.

 

For about an hour. Giddiness, for its own sake, isn’t sustainable.

 

At 134 minutes, Gillespie’s self-indulgent film is at least half an hour too long. The momentum begins to wane as we hit the midpoint, and thereafter it’s definitely a case of diminishing returns. The second half never induces outright boredom, but the thin plot does get tedious.

 

Cruella narrates her own saga — Stone’s off-camera voiceover — which begins with a rebellious, erratic childhood that matches her alarmingly unusual hair color. Dad is long gone; her mother Catherine (Emily Beecham) is at wit’s end, trying to deal with her unruly daughter (named Estella at this point, and played by Tipper Seifert-Cleveland).

 

After the school demerits hit critical level — a very droll montage — Estella finally perceives how her behavior is traumatizing her mother.

 

Eager to embrace a promised new beginning, mother and daughter hit the road … but first Catherine stops at an impossibly posh and massive estate, to meet with somebody inside. Disobeying the order to remain in the car, Estella sneaks around the lavish garden and is just in time to witness a disastrous encounter between her mother and three savage Dalmatians.

 

(Done tastefully, despite the horrific result, which is necessary to advance the plot.)

 

Richard Jewell: Grim slaughter of innocents

Richard Jewell (2019) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated R, for profanity and dramatic intensity
By Derrick Bang

Perhaps the most reprehensible lingering disgrace in the ordeal suffered by Richard Jewell — during a lengthy nightmare laden with hourly indignities — is the fact that, to this day, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution maintains that it behaved responsibly.

Centennial Park security officer Richard Jewell (Paul Walter Hauser, center) points law
enforcement officers to a suspicious-looking backpack that has been abandoned
beneath a bench near the sound-and-light tower adjacent to the performance stage,
where Jack Mack and the Heart Attack are entertaining thousands of fans.

To borrow a phrase from the younger generation, I call BS.

Jewell deserves to be remembered solely as the hero who, while working as a security guard at the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta, Georgia, discovered a bomb-laden backpack and helped evacuate the crowded area before it exploded. He undoubtedly saved many, many lives.

Instead, he’s more likely remembered as the hapless individual who, three days later, was identified as the probable suspect who planted the bomb, thanks to an overzealous FBI investigation, inflammatory “reporting” by the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, and the hundreds of media outlets that subsequently fanned the flames. 

Despite being cleared after an 88-day siege by media and all manner of law enforcement, Jewell undoubtedly remained a question mark in the minds of many, particularly since nobody initially was arrested for the heinous crime. It’s easy to imagine the rumor-mongering: “Maybe he did do it, but the FBI just didn’t have enough evidence…”

Even when Eric Rudolph confessed to being the bomber after being arrested in 2003, there was no way to wholly eradicate the avalanche of accusatory publicity that had buried Jewell and his equally hapless mother for 88 days. Retractions and “fresh truth” rarely have the impact of three months’ worth of screaming headlines.

Director Clint Eastwood and scripter Billy Ray — adapting Marie Brenner’s mesmerizing profile of Jewell, in the February 1997 Vanity Fair — have done their best to restore his honor, in a compelling drama fueled by powerhouse performances from Paul Walter Hauser and Kathy Bates, as Richard and his mother, Bobi. The result is a terrifying cautionary tale about the fragility of one’s place in society, and the ease with which an ordinary life can be ruined by authority and bad publicity.

Jewell’s ordeal truly is straight out of Kafka.

Late Night: Stay up for it!

Late Night (2019) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated R, for profanity and occasional sexual references
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.14.19

I’ve suffered through so many vulgar, trashy, profane and infantile comedies during the past several years, that it seemed like the entire genre had been hijacked by such junk.

Imperious late-night talk show host Katherine Newbury (Emma Thompson) would only
"make nice" in this manner, with lowly writer Molly Patel (Mindy Kaling), if a publicity photo
were required. Otherwise, Katherine wouldn't waste a moment with such a staff peon...

Bless you, Mindy Kaling, for reminding us that witty, sophisticated humor still exists on the big screen.

Late Night is delightful. Kaling’s consistently amusing script is blessed with both sharp one-liners and shrewdly wry jabs at sexism, racism, ageism, tokenism and several other isms that don’t immediately leap to mind. The story also takes pointed pot shots at television and its cult of personality, while giving us the funniest behind-the-scenes writers’ room gang since we lost television’s much-loved 30 Rock.

And, unlike far too many lazy scripters these days, Kaling doesn’t focus solely on her story’s key characters; she also grants sidebar folks distinct personalities, and gives them little moments in which to shine. 

Manhattan-based Katherine Newbury (Emma Thompson) is a pioneer in her field, with multiple Emmy Awards to prove it: She’s the only woman to host a long-running late-night talk show. Unfortunately, she hasn’t changed her approach after three decades, and her ratings are tanking in an age where audiences prefer social media to social discourse. Stuffy philosophers can’t compete with YouTube “celebrities” who make embarrassing videos with their pets.

Worse yet, the notoriously impatient Katherine suddenly is accused of hypocrisy: as a so-called progressive feminist whose writers’ room is staffed solely by men. White men. Mostly young white men.

Stung by the accuracy of this charge, she orders her executive producer — Denis O’Hare, as the long-suffering Brad — to take the first “diversity hire” who walks into the building. Due to a hilariously improbable set of circumstances, that turns out to be Molly Patel (Kaling), a former chemical plant efficiency expert from suburban Pennsylvania, who has dreamed of being a comedy writer.

And whose sudden presence in the writers’ room goes over like the proverbial lead balloon.