My Penguin Friend: Absolutely enchanting

My Penguin Friend (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, for no particularly reason

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.18.24

Forget about kittens, bunnies and puppies ... even Pembroke Welsh Corgi puppies, which are adorable beyond words.

 

Even so, nothing on God’s Earth is cuter than a penguin.

 

Everybody in the village is captivated by the Magellanic penguin that has become a
constant companion to one of the local fishermen. Young Lucia (Duda Galvão,
standing just to the bird's left) names it DinDim.

Director David Schurmann’s modest dramatic charmer is the best family-friendly film I’ve seen in quite awhile, and the fact that it’s inspired by actual events is the icing on the cake.

Scripters Kristen Lazarian and Paulina Lagudi Ulrich embellished the truth a bit, in order to supply back-story and dramatic heft to what already was an astonishing saga. That’s certainly fair; this is a movie, not a documentary, and the result is heartwarming and totally captivating.

 

Events begin in the small beach community of Ilha Grande, near Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. João (Pedro Urizzi) is one of dozens of young men who eke out a living by fishing, rising early each morning to prepare boats and nets. He and his wife, Maria (Amanda Magalhães), have a young son, Miguel (Juan José Garnica); the boy loves soccer and dotes on his father. As a birthday present, he begs to tag along the next morning, to help fish in lieu of attending school.

 

A storm kicks up; tragedy ensues.

 

Decades pass. João (now played by Jean Reno) has become a withdrawn misanthrope: broken, barely speaking, shunning the friends and neighbors with whom he once worked alongside, setting up his boat and nets well away from the other aging fishermen. Even Maria (now Adriana Barraza) doesn’t know how to reach him, and her quiet anguish is palpable.

 

Elsewhere — in Patagonia, Argentina — a colony of Magellanic penguins takes to the water, driven by migration instinct. After an undetermined amount of time, one gets separated from the others ... and, worse yet, blunders into an oil spill and is quickly covered. Now almost unable to swim, it struggles forward.

 

Back in Ilha Grande, while preparing for another day of fishing, João spots something floating atop the water, just off the beach. He hastens to it, and discovers a penguin in severe distress, covered in oil. João takes it home, calms it with a sardine breakfast, and begins the laborious process of cleaning off the oil. 

 

At first Maria views this newcomer as unwanted vermin, but she sees a change in her husband; he’s renewed by a sense of purpose, and the knowledge that he’s able to help this little creature. It’s still weak and vulnerable; João makes it a tiny sweater from some leftover material.

 

(If subsequent scenes of this little bird waddling around João and Maria’s home, in its makeshift sweater, isn’t the most endearing thing ever ... well, you have no heart.)

Alien: Romulus — Been there, endured that

Alien: Romulus (2024) • View trailer

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

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.1.24

This is what happens, when children recklessly steal a spaceship...

 

I greeted this ninth (!) Alien entry with a weary sense of Seriously? Must we do this again? 

 

Needing to reach another portion of this enormous space station, but with their sole path
blocked by scores of adult xenomorphs, Rain (Cailee Spaeny) and Andy (David Jonsson)
consider their limited options.

This franchise envisions a bleak and depressing future; most characters inevitably die horribly; the eponymous xenomorphs always rise again (if not in a given installment, then elsewhere in the universe); lather, rinse, repeat.

No matter what the set-up, the execution is resignedly predictable.

 

That said, and for the benefit of those who might be approaching this as their first Alien saga...

 

To his credit, director/co-scripter Fede Alvarez delivers a solid first act populated by a handful of reasonably well-crafted characters. (But given that every member of this small cast is in his/her early or mid-20s, one is tempted to re-title this film Alien: 90210.)

 

The second act also features a very clever nod back to the film that begat this franchise, accompanied by several familiar bars of Jerry Goldsmith’s score for that 1979 classic.

 

However ... Alvarez and co-scripter Rodo Sayagues then squander that good will with an eye-rolling third act that piles ludicrous atop preposterous, with a soupçon of ridiculous tossed in for bad measure.

 

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

 

Alien and 1986’s Aliens were game-changing events.

 

This is just a routine horror flick, albeit with impressive sci-fi trappings.

 

The year is 2142, which — in the series timeline — is one generation after Alien (2122) and not quite two generations before Aliens (2169). The setting: Jackson’s Star, a mining colony on a ringed planet with an atmosphere so thick that sunshine never penetrates. The vast majority of the colony’s inhabitants are underpaid laborers indentured to the Weyland-Yutani Corporation (the mostly unseen villains throughout this entire series).

 

The corporation has a nasty habit of changing the rules as it sees fit, which Rain Carradine (Cailee Spaeny) discovers, to her dismay. She happily believes that — having served her required contract work hours — she now can travel to a much more hospitable world ... only to be told that her contract requirement has just been doubled. (Given Rain’s obvious youth, and the length of time necessary to hit her initial quota, we’re also clearly dealing with violations of reasonable child labor laws.)

 

Depressed beyond words, she’s susceptible when fellow miner and ex-boyfriend Tyler (Archie Renaux) proposes a risky means of escaping Jackson’s Star. He and three others — his sister Kay (Isabela Merced), fellow miner Bjorn (Spike Fearn), and tech-savvy Navarro (Aileen Wu) — have detected a derelict Weyland-Yutani spaceship in descending orbit around the planet.

 

The hope is that it’ll contain functional cryo-pods, for the suspended animation sleep necessary during a lengthy journey to their desired distant planet. The plan, then, is to “borrow” the Corbelan — one of the mining operation’s utilitarian spaceships — to reach the derelict vessel, transfer its cryo-pods to their ship, and then just keep going.

 

Jackpot!: No winners here

Jackpot! (2024) • View trailer

No stars: TURKEY. Rated R, for violence, vulgar sexual content, and pervasive profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime

By Derrick Bang

I thought Trap would be the summer’s worst movie.

 

But no; this abysmal, live-action cartoon defies description. (I’ll nonetheless give it a shot.)

 

Although Katie (Awkwafina) and Noel (John Cena) cleverly think to hide in a rich
musician's panic room, there's still the matter of closing the door before their hundreds
of pursuers force their way inside.

The budget apparently came from what all involved pooled from their weekly lunch money. Sets and locations are limited to existing Los Angeles-area venues, each briefly closed for the 15 minutes required to shoot one take of each scene. Most “costumes” go no further than street clothes.

Aside from the top half-dozen roles, all other characters appear to have been cast with random folks snatched from the streets; they certainly can’t act a whit. They aren’t even granted names in the cast list; they’re instead billed as Scary Goth Guy, Baby Puppeteer, Asshole Dad, Food Truck Guy, Bald Alley Cop, and so forth.

 

Paul Feig hardly warrants his credit as director; he appears to have told cinematographer John Schwartzman to point the camera, turn it on, and film whatever each untrained idiot felt like doing at that particular moment.

 

Rob Yescombe similarly doesn’t deserve to be acknowledged for his so-called script, because most — all? — of the dialogue appears to have been improvised on the spot. And quite badly, in most cases. It’s the sort of “banter” that regards relentless F-bombs as the height of comedy.

 

This may be the worst case of lunatics running the asylum ever foisted on an unsuspecting public. Grade-school theater productions are more convincing.

 

Until now, I’d have believed Awkwafina incapable of making a bad movie, and possessing the good sense to avoid anything that smelled of one. (Wrong again.)

 

As a sidebar, I’ve never cared for the tasteless “state-sanctioned murder as a cathartic escape valve” subgenre that has become popular of late. Japan’s Battle Royale, unleashed in 2000, started this dystopian trend;  2013’s The Purge and its (thus far) five sequels turned it into a deplorable franchise. By the time South Korea’s Squid Game came along, three years ago, the concept had become mainstream ... which doesn’t say anything good about human nature.

 

This pathetic turkey joins their ranks. It might be the most shameful yet, since it’s supposed to be a comedy.

 

It Ends with Us: Too dreamy to be true

It Ends with Us (2024) • View trailer

Three stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for sexual content, dramatic intensity, and fleeting profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.11.24

Lily (Blake Lively) and Ryle (Justin Baldoni) share a marvelous meet-cute encounter shortly after this romantic swooner begins.

 

Allysa (Jenny Slate, left) eventually learns to love flowers just as much as her new bestie,
Lily (Blake Lively), who has long dreamed of owning a trendy flower shop.

She has perched on the roof of a tall, trendy Boston apartment complex, contemplating her life. He blasts through the door, frustrated by the events of a ghastly day. 

They notice each other. (How could they not? They’re both incredibly gorgeous.) They make an effort at chatting, at first warily. The mood turns combustible, their smiles grow teasing, their banter increasingly flirty. It’s a classic Hollywood moment, the likes of which we don’t often see these days.

 

Alas, circumstances prompt Ryle to return to work, so they part.

 

That aside...

 

We also watched, during the preceding prologue, as Lily returned to her home town of Plethora, Maine, to attend her father’s funeral. She made a point of not visiting shortly before he died; now, poised to give a brief eulogy — the church laden with people honoring this great man, this pillar of the community — she balks, and flees without a word ... much to the embarrassed consternation of her mother, Jenny (Amy Morton).

 

Fans of Colleen Hoover’s 2016 romance novel, on which this film is based, will know what’s to come; they’ll watch for little details that’ll probably slip past unsuspecting viewers. 

 

But seriously; with a title like It Ends with Us, things can go only one of two ways ... right?

 

Jenny wants her only child to remain in Plethora, but Lily — her full name being Lily Blossom Bloom, an obvious strike against her parents — is determined to remain in Boston. Her lifelong goal: to open (what else?) a flower shop. She rents a dilapidated building, begins the herculean clean-up process, and has a second meet-cute encounter: this time with passerby Allysa (Jenny Slate), who has long wondered what the inside of this place looks like.

 

The two women spar playfully; Allysa confesses that she hates flowers, “because they’re dead.” (Lily finds this amusing.) Allysa nonetheless needs a job, and Lily needs help; what could be more perfect?

 

Where Lily and Ryle had instant sensual chemistry, Lily and Allysa quickly become as tight as mutually devoted sisters. Slate is delightful: bubbly, spontaneous, outgoing and — we soon learn — sharply observant. Allysa is married to Marshall (Hasan Minhaj), a similar force of nature, and Ryle happens to be her brother. (What a coincidence!)

 

Ryle then mounts the world’s most persistent wooing campaign, but Lily resists ... sort of. She’s determined to find love, whereas he prefers casual relationships.

Trap: Don't fall in it

Trap (2024) • View trailer

One star (out of five). Rated PG-13, for violent content, disturbing images, and fleeting profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang 

Every time I suffer through another M. Night Shyamalan fiasco, I exit the theater thinking, I’m done with this guy.

 

And yet ... here I am again.

 

Riley (Ariel Donoghue) is loving every minute of the stadium concert featuring her
favorite musician, particularly since her father (Josh Hartnett) is sharing the
experience with her. But why is the place laden with so many armed cops?

The creative talent he possessed, back in the days of The Sixth Sense and Unbreakable, has eluded him for many years; since then we’ve endured string of insufferably stupid stories, laden with characters who speak and behave in a manner wholly removed from reality. 

Honestly, he doesn’t even try now; his recent films have been classic examples of the “idiot plot,” which lurches from one scene to the next, only because each and every character behaves like an idiot at all times.

 

Trap is no different ... although, in fairness, one character is allowed to be smart (but I’ll not say who, since that would be a major spoiler).

 

The prologue seems ordinary enough, as doting father Cooper (Josh Hartnett) and his teenage daughter Riley (Ariel Donoghue) attend a sold-out stadium concert starring her OMG all-time-favorite singer/songwriter, Lady Raven (Saleka Night Shyamalan). Riley is beside herself with delight, her enthusiasm radiating like the sun’s rays.

 

But the atmosphere is a little off. The presence of armed cops seems way excessive, even in these dangerous times. Once the concert begins, Cooper seems overly obsessed by this heightened security; he’s also a bit OCD and tense. Hartnett plays this well, his eyes open a bit too wide, his cheerfulness oddly forced.

 

While father and daughter prowl the outer foyers during intermission, a merch vendor lets slip the truth: Police and the FBI learned that a notorious serial killer, dubbed The Butcher, would be attending this performance ... so they’ve arrived in force, determined to capture him.

 

(Actually, “in force” is an understatement; it looks like the place is filled with every cop in Philadelphia, along with massive contingents from the neighboring five states.)

 

Okay, let’s unpack this a bit.

 

We’re expected to believe that law enforcement would jeopardize tens of thousands of innocent concertgoers, knowing that a cornered lunatic could maim and kill God knows how many of them?

 

On top of which, given the tone that Shyamalan takes, are we seriously expected to hope that this guy, via guile and ingenious maneuvers, does evade capture? We’re supposed to cheer a maniac who — over time — dismembered 12 earlier victims, leaving body parts strewn all over the landscape? A guy who, as we watch, creates a distraction by permanently disfiguring a fast-food worker, when she gets hit in the face with scalding-hot French fry oil?

 

Sorry, but that’s just sick.

Deadpool & Wolverine: Death of a thousand cuts

Deadpool & Wolverine (2024) • View trailer

Two stars (out of five). Rated R, for constant strong bloody violence, gore, relentless profanity, and crude sexual references

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.4.24

This isn’t a movie; it’s a string of crude and violent blackout sketches laced with relentless profanity and vulgar one-liners, loosely stitched to a so-called plot that’s dog-nuts even by superhero movie standards.

 

Having penetrated the Big Bad's weird lair in this aggressively deranged flick,
Wolverine (Hugh Jackman, left) and Deadpool (Ryan Reynolds) realize that they
may be in over their heads...

The result is aimed squarely at arrested adolescent males and the geekiest comic book nerds ... and, judging by the opening weekend’s box office results — $438 million worldwide, shattering the previous record for an R-rated film — the folks at Marvel Studios apparently knew what they were doing.

Let’s call it a triumph of crass commercialism, while acknowledging that mainstream viewers — and even fans of the “conventional” Marvel superhero films — are advised to steer very, very clear. 

 

This gleefully atrocious burlesque wears “Tasteless” like a badge of honor. But if the wretched excess is removed — to quote Gertrude Stein — there is no there there. After the introductory title credits orgy of slashed throats, impalements, severed limbs, decapitations, gouts of blood, and relentless F-bombs, the realization that the entire film will continue in this manner, isn’t merely disheartening.

 

It’s boring. Truly.

 

The primary running joke concerns the constant squabbling and fighting between Deadpool and Wolverine, because — since both have regenerative powers — neither can be killed. Cue all manner of shooting, stabbing and bone-breaking mayhem.

 

Mildly funny the first time. Not on constant repeat.

 

Director Shawn Levy and his four co-scripters deserve mild credit for archly breaking the fourth wall and elevating meta to new heights, with foul-mouthed Deadpool (Ryan Reynolds) taking cheeky real-world jabs at Disney, 20th Century Fox and all manner of pop-culture entities. It’s like a Simpsons episode on speed, and when the snarky asides and Easter Eggs arrive with such rat-a-tat intensity, some of them are bound to land. And yes, a few do.

 

But that’s pretty thin gruel, given the vehicle driving this nonsense.

 

So: The “plot,” such as it is. Fasten your seatbelts; it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.

 

Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool, has been trying to go straight — as a car salesman — since his previous adventures in 2018’s Deadpool 2. This effort goes awry when he’s snatched from his life on Earth 10005 by Mr. Paradox (Matthew Macfadyen), a bureaucratic agent of the Time Variance Authority (TVA), responsible for monitoring all temporal law in the Marvel Comics Universe.

 

(Yes, this is a multiverse mash-up.)

Find Me Falling: You'll fall in love

Find Me Falling (2024) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated TV-MA, for mild profanity and suicidal content

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

Harry Connick Jr. is perfectly cast in this quirky little rom-com.

 

I’ve no idea what prompted writer/director Stelana Kliris to seek him, but we can be grateful that he accepted the role; it’s right in his wheelhouse.

 

When Captain Manoli (Tony Demetriou, center) takes John (Harry Connick Jr.) out for a
night on the town, he has no idea that his good friend Sia (Agni Scott) will turn out to
be his guest's long-ago lover.

The Cyprus setting is an added bonus; it’s hard to imagine a more picturesque and romantic spot. The vibrant local color also includes colorful locals, who enhance the story’s sense of whimsy. The result seems slightly ethereal: an old-world atmosphere with a tightly knit sense of community, where everybody knows everybody, and — in many cases — is somehow related to everybody.

Cinematographer Stephan Metzner also has much to do with this film’s dreamy appearance; establishing vistas are dazzling, and his camera placement in the town’s narrow streets augments the sense of quaint coziness. The way he frames one nighttime shot of the two primary characters, standing in front of trees adorned with strings of white lights, is particularly enchanting.

 

Once-famous rock star John Allman (Connick), dismayed by the abysmal failure of his most recent album, has fled to Cyprus, the most remote spot he can think of (not an entirely random choice, as we soon learn). He purchased a charming cliffside house, sight unseen, from a Realtor who gave him “a really good deal.” (Too good to be true, as it turns out.)

 

Having barely arrived, John wakens one morning to find a young man on his property, poised at the edge of the cliff. An exasperated John ill-advisedly bellows, “This is my property ... go away!” At which point, the fellow steps off the edge, to his death.

 

John’s stunned expression, backed by an offbeat passage in Carlos José Alvarez’s lyrical score, makes this event darkly humorous, rather than tasteless; credit also goes to the delicacy of Kliris’ directorial touch.

 

(Suicide and romantic comedies aren’t mutually exclusive. I was immediately reminded of 1969’s Cactus Flower, which begins as Goldie Hawn’s character attempts to kill herself. Unsuccessfully, but still...)

 

The local head of police, Captain Manoli (Tony Demetriou), reveals to a horrified John that his new home faces a “suicide hot spot” that has long attracted despairing locals and people from various parts of the world.