My Spy the Eternal City: Family-friendly spyjinks

My Spy the Eternal City (2024) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for action violence, brief profanity and ill-advised teen behavior

Available via: Amazon Prime

By Derrick Bang

This film’s 2020 predecessor was one of the better entries in the odd little sub-genre that places macho action stars into light-hearted romps with children.

 

While Bobbi (Kristen Schaal, left) nervously awaits the worst, JJ (Dave Bautista)
reluctantly allows Sophie (Chloe Coleman) to pursue the bad guys ... while placing
too much faith in her insistence that she "knows how to drive."

Acknowledging that — and seeing no reason to change a winning hand — director Peter Segal and co-writers Erich Hoeber and Jon Hoeber have reunited with the original cast for another stunt-laden dose of spyjinks.

Although this sequel also can’t be taken seriously, the plot is a reasonable anchor point for droll character interactions and — as was the case with the first film — the solid dynamic between co-stars Dave Bautista and Chloe Coleman. Once again, their rapport feels reasonably authentic, and they’ve grown comfortably into their roles.

 

Four years have passed, since the events in the previous film. Former ace CIA operative JJ (Bautista) has transitioned into a desk job, in order to lead a more peaceful life with Kate (Lara Babalola), while also becoming a more attentive parent to her daughter Sophie (Coleman). Alas, now a teenager, the last thing this girl wants is a helicopter stepfather who constantly gets into her business.

 

Sophie’s focus is on hunky fellow high school choir member Ryan (Billy Barratt), much to the dismay of her best friend, Collin (Taeho K), who has long worshiped her from afar. Alas, Sophie takes Collin entirely for granted.

 

Elsewhere, CIA section chief David Kim (Ken Jeong) is horrified to discover that a crucial op has failed, thereby placing the locations of 100 nukes into the hands of enemy terrorists. 

 

Back at North Virginia High School, the choir has been selected — along with numerous other youthful choruses from the States and around the world — for an international competition that will climax with a massive performance for the Pope, in Vatican City. To Sophie’s horror, JJ eagerly volunteers to be one of the chaperones; this prompts nothing but derision from the head chaperone: rule-oriented school principal Nancy (Anna Faris), who doesn’t think he could possibly handle the responsibility.

 

Indeed, the first night in Venice is almost a disaster, when the kids break curfew. But the quick-thinking JJ saves the situation, which raises his cred — a bit — with his youthful charges. Unfortunately, things subsequently go awry when JJ unwisely allows Sophie, Ryan and Collin some “fun time” one evening.

 

At which point, Collin gets kidnapped.

Dune Part 2: Moral ambiguity clouds this second chapter

Dune Part 2 (2024) • View trailer

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

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

As Dune Part 1 concluded, back in October 2021, Chani (Zendaya) glanced at Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet), newly accepted among her Fremen clan, and said — to him, and to us — “This is only the beginning.”

 

As Paul (Timothée Chalamet) begins to suffer increasingly distressing visions and
nightmares, Chani (Zendaya) finds it harder to comfort him.

In hindsight, I almost wish that hadn’t been true.

The first film encompassed only (roughly) half of Frank Herbert’s famed 1965 novel, and Paul’s saga was far from over. Unfortunately, the book’s less satisfying second half takes a distinct ethical turn. Characters we had grown to like become less admirable; the story’s broader palette shifts, turning less heroic and more disturbing.

 

Although Herbert’s messianic subplot may have seemed benign (even worthy?) six decades ago, our world has changed. While director/co-scripter Denis Villeneuve — with fellow scribe Jon Spaihts — are once again commended for so faithfully adapting the key plot points of Herbert’s book, this second installment’s rising call for jihad strikes an entirely different note in our tempestuous times.

 

To put it another way, the story’s first half — with its clash between House Atreides and House Harkonnen, provoked behind the scenes by an unseen emperor and the mysterious women of the Bene Gesserit — felt very much like Game of Thrones, with all manner of similar subterfuge, betrayals and dashed hopes. (One wonders if Herbert’s book was on young George R.R. Martin’s reading list.)

 

The second half, alas, focuses more on Paul’s struggle to avoid a horrific destiny that he fears is preordained. To be sure, the promise of revenge also is on the table ... but it feels less important, given the gravity of the bigger picture.

 

All this said, there’s no denying — once again — the epic magnificence of Villeneuve’s vision, and the jaw-dropping scale of his world-building. Herbert’s fans will be gob-smacked anew.

 

To recap:

 

Paul’s father, the honorable Duke Leto (Oscar Isaac) of House Atreides, ruler of the ocean world Caladan, is sent by the Emperor to replace House Harkonnen as the fief overlords of the inhospitable planet Arrakis. This desert world is the galaxy’s sole source of “spice,” which enables safe interstellar travel. But mining operations are extremely dangerous due to the ginormous sandworms that move beneath desert sands, like whales swimming through water, and have teeth-laden maws immense enough to swallow a huge spice-mining platform whole.

 

Leto knows this mission a trap, and that he has been set up to fail; he and his people nonetheless occupy the Arrakian capital of Arrakeen, and attempt to make allies of the planet’s indigenous Fremen people. He gains the grudging respect of Fremen representative Stilgar (Javier Bardem).

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3: The fun is gone

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 (2023) • View trailer

Three stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, and too generously, for nasty action violence, profanity and dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 5.5.23

Writer/director James Gunn has stamped his portion of the Marvel Cinematic Universe with a sense of playful chaos that sets it apart from its numerous superhero colleagues.

 

Star Lord (Chris Pratt, center) and his companions — from left, Mantis (Pom Klementieff),
Groot (Vin Diesel), Drax (Dave Bautista) and Nebula (Karen Gillan) — prepare to face
yet another megalomaniac who wants to re-shape the universe.

But while some of that snarky atmosphere remains present, it’s blemished this time. The character roster has grown too large to grant proper attention to all concerned, and — more crucially — far too much time is spent with the helpless furry victims of vivisection gone horribly awry.

That latter subplot is necessitated by this third entry’s primary focus on Rocket, and the back-story that explains his bio-mechanical enhancements. (I hope nobody thought the MCU includes a planet populated by hyper-intelligent warrior raccoons.) 

 

It’s a solid topic, and two or three brief flashbacks would have been sufficient. But spending great chunks of time as young Rocket befriends three similarly imprisoned but atrociously mutilated critters feels like audience abuse, and leaches the “fun” right outta this film.

 

(If Gunn and co-writers Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning intended to make a point, they didn’t need a sledge hammer.)

 

The individual responsible for this horror is a longtime Marvel Comics villain dubbed the High Evolutionary, whose deplorable efforts in genetic manipulation date all the way back to a 1966 issue of The Mighty Thor. He’s played with malevolent fury here by Chukwudi Iwuji, and is genuinely scary.

 

But that’s getting ahead a bit. Events actually kick off with the explosive arrival of another familiar Marvel Comics character: golden-hued Adam Warlock (Will Poulter), a Superman-gone-bad who flies into Knowhere spaceport, current base of operations for the Guardians, and damn near takes out the entire team.

 

They are, by way of reminder, gung-ho Starlord, aka Peter Quill (Chris Pratt); the genetically enhanced Nebula (Karen Gillan), adopted daughter of the slain Thanos; the powerful but somewhat dim-bulb Drax (Dave Bautista); Mantis (Pom Klementieff), an empath able to sense and alter another’s emotions; and Groot (voiced by Vin Diesel), the hyper-intelligent, tree-like organism.

 

Along with Rocket (voiced by Bradley Cooper), who is critically injured during this initial, landscape-leveling battle with Warlock.

Knock at the Cabin: Don't open this door

Knock at the Cabin (2023) • View trailer

One star (out of five). Rated R, for violence, dramatic intensity and profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

Would somebody please burn this man’s Directors Guild card?

 

M. Night Shyamalan continues to demonstrate an impressive ability to stretch a 30-minute premise to the point that it screams for mercy.

 

While young Wen (Kristen Cui) cowers behind Andrew (Ben Aldridge), and a similarly
trussed-up Eric (Jonathan Groff) looks on dazedly, Leonard (Dave Bautista) once
again explains — hoping to get a different answer — what is required of the three of them.

The result — here, as in so many of his films — is ponderous, overwrought, absurdly melodramatic and insufferably boring.

I initially held out a bit of hope, because unlike most of Shyamalan’s original scripts, this one is based on an existing book: Paul Tremblay’s Bram Stoker Award-winning horror novel, The Cabin at the End of the World.

 

But no. Although Shyamalan — and co-scripters Steve Desmond and Michael Sherman — have altered key details to make these events somewhat more palatable, their film remains ridiculous. (And, based of what has been changed, I’ve no desire to read Tremblay’s book any time soon.)

 

Eric (Jonathan Groff), Andrew (Ben Aldridge) and their adorable 8-year-old adopted daughter Wen (Kristen Cui) are a loving, mutually devoted family unit. They’ve begun a vacation at Ye Old Isolated Cabin In The Woods (a horror flick cliché long overdue for retirement) and, thus far, life has been nothing but laughter and joy.

 

Then, while Wen is collecting grasshoppers one morning, she’s approached by the imposing Leonard (Dave Bautista), who — despite the wave of menace that seems to shimmer from his skin — attempts to befriend her.

 

Right away, we’re dealing with a modern little girl who should be well schooled about how to react when confronted with stranger danger. And while immediately running into the cabin wouldn’t change the trajectory of what follows, her failure to do so is an early indication of the daft psychology that permeates this entire film.

 

Moments later, Leonard is joined by three others: Sabrina (Nikki Amuka-Bird), Adriane (Abby Quinn) and Redmond (Rupert Grint). At that point, Wen does run to her parents. They barricade the doors and windows; Leonard knocks on the front door and asks that they be let inside … otherwise, they’ll simply break in.

 

(Then why ask permission? It’s not like they’ve vampires, who must be invited across the threshold.)

 

This imposing quartet soon gets inside, each of them now carrying a large, nasty and impressively lethal weapon. (Leonard prefers the term “tools.”) Eric and Andrew resist to the best of their ability, and wind up tied to chairs.

Glass Onion: Layers of delight

Glass Onion (2022) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for strong language, violence, sexual candor and drug content

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 12.30.22

Rian Johnson reminded me how much I miss well-crafted murder mysteries.

 

Consider a few classics: Sleuth, The Last of Sheila, Deathtrap, Gosford Park and The Usual Suspects. Each is a blend of twisty plotting and mildly snarky attitude.

 

Tech billionaire Miles Bron (Edward Norton, center) and several of his guests — from
left, Claire (Kathryn Hahn), Whiskey (Madelyn Cline), Lionel (Leslie Odom Jr.) and
Birdie (Kate Hudson) — are quite surprised by the identity of their gathering's
newest arrival.

The writer/director garnered well-deserved admiration for 2019’s Knives Out, which — among its many other delights — gave star Daniel Craig an opportunity to craft a memorable character far removed from a certain shaken-not-stirred secret agent.

We all wondered, when Craig’s second outing as sharp-eyed sleuth Benoit Blanc neared arrival, if Johnson could pull it off a second time. So many filmmakers have run afoul of the sophomore curse.

 

Well, not this one.

 

Glass Onion is just as clever — and engaging — as its predecessor. Although driven by a tantalizing whodunit and whydunit, those features almost take second place to the fact that this film is pure fun. At a time when numerous recent releases have run far too long in the hands of self-indulgent directors, this one earns its 139 minutes. Goodness, I wanted it to keep going.

 

Johnson’s fondness for the genre is obvious, and his new film is a loving — and cheekily updated — riff on Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None.

 

The story begins as identical, elaborately carved wooden boxes are delivered to scientist Lionel Toussaint (Leslie Odom Jr.), Connecticut Gov. Claire Debella (Kathryn Hahn), fashion designer Birdie Jay (Kate Hudson) and macho streaming celebrity Duke Cody (Dave Bautista). Editor Bob Ducsay’s sleek split-screen montage reflects the fact that these are (of course!) large puzzle boxes, which the quartet ultimately solves via phone collaboration.

 

Inside: an invitation to a murder mystery weekend hosted by longtime friend and tech billionaire Miles Bron (Edward Norton), at his private island in Greece. His estate’s stand-out feature: a massive, glass-enclosed conservatory shaped like an onion.

 

Elsewhere, the recipient of a fifth box extracts her invitation via hilarious old-school methodology. (Whatever works, right?) She turns out to be Cassandra “Andi” Brand (Janelle Monáe), co-founder and former CEO of Bron’s tech company Alpha, unfairly ousted — not long ago — via some acrimonious legal maneuvering.

 

Everybody — most particularly Bron — is astonished when Blanc turns up, identical invitation in hand. The detective, unswervingly polite to the core, is embarrassed by having unwittingly crashed the party; Bron sets him at ease. After all, the cunningly conceived weekend will be far more successful if he’s able to outfox the world-famous Benoit Blanc.

Dune: Epic sci-fi storytelling

Dune (2021) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, and somewhat generously, for considerable violence, disturbing images and dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters and (until November 21) HBO Max

By Derrick Bang

This film’s final line of dialogue, spoken with a soft smile and the hint of promise by a key character: “This is only the beginning.”

 

Deliberate irony, I’m sure, on the part of director Denis Villeneuve.

 

With seconds to spare before a massive sandworm erupts to the desert surface, Gurney
Halleck (Josh Brolin, left) drags Paul (Timothée Chalamet) onto their ornithopter, just
as the aircraft takes off.

Folks wondering how Frank Herbert’s complex 1965 novel could be condensed into a 155-minute movie need wonder no longer. Misleading publicity notwithstanding, this actually is Dune: Part One … with the second half likely several years away.

From what I recall — the read was decades ago — Villeneuve and co-scripters Jon Spaihts and Eric Roth get slightly more than halfway into Herbert’s chunky book. In fairness, the breakpoint is logical — more or less where Herbert divided the two portions of his novel — and the film’s conclusion is reasonably satisfying.

 

But let’s just say that about 17 chads are left hanging. Resolution ain’t in the cards. Not yet.

 

That aside, Villeneuve’s always engaging film is a breathtaking display of sci-fi world-building: absolutely an honorable adaptation of Herbert’s blend of future-dreaming, socio-political commentary and (for its time) ground-breaking eco-fiction.

 

Dune has, practically since publication, been the great white whale of filmmakers. Surrealistic Chilean-French filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky spent three years, in the mid-1970s, trying to mount an adaptation that would have starred David Carradine and Salvador Dali(!), with music by Pink Floyd (!!); the project finally collapsed when backers bolted over the rising budget. 

 

David Lynch’s misbegotten effort, deservedly loathed by fans and critics, did make it to the screen in 1984 (and more’s the pity).

 

The 2000 TV miniseries isn’t bad; it also isn’t very good.

 

Neither holds a candle to the bravura work by Villeneuve and the massive, massive crew that brought this vision to the screen. This is true sense-of-wonder moviemaking.

 

For all its merits, Herbert’s novel is a slog at times, burdened by didactic passages and tediously descriptive prose. This film’s greatest achievement — scripters, take a bow — is the distillation of such stuff: retaining just enough to highlight the essential plot points and narrative beats, while simultaneously juicing up dramatic tension.

 

That makes this film frequently exciting: something that’s rarely true of Herbert’s novel. Villeneuve and editor Joe Walker move things along at a suspenseful clip, and matters almost never flag. (This can’t be said of Villeneuve’s previous film, Blade Runner 2049, which — despite its many merits — is hampered by far too many dull stretches of Nothing Much Happens).

 

With Dune finally realized so marvelously on the big screen, one can readily see — as just the most obviously example — how much this story influenced George Lucas.

My Spy: License to amuse

My Spy (2020) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated PG-13, for action violence and profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.10.20

A curious cinema sub-genre finds macho action stars slotted into comedies with children.

Vin Diesel turned babysitter in 2005’s The Pacifier. Dwayne Johnson discovered a surprise daughter in 2007’s The Game Plan, and donned a tutu in 2010’s Tooth Fairy. That latter year, Jackie Chan looked after his girlfriend’s three kids, in The Spy Next Door.

Although it breaks every known level of CIA protocol, JJ (Dave Bautista) reluctantly
accepts a dinner invitation from Kate (Parisa Fitz-Henley) ... in great part because her
daughter Sophie (Chloe Coleman) threatens to blow his cover if he refuses.

It therefore was inevitable Dave Bautista would follow in their footsteps.

These films rise or fall on the personality of the child(ren) involved; if they’re insufferable, ill-behaved little brats who exist solely to make their adult chaperones look like idiots, the results can be dire. And knowing that director Peter Segal was responsible for Tommy Boy, Nutty Professor II and a gaggle of overly broad Adam Sandler comedies, did not exactly inspire confidence.

But the Erich Hoeber/Jon Hoeber script is smarter than usual, for such projects, and Segal (mostly) eschews wretched excess. More crucially, young Chloe Coleman is genuinely endearing as Bautista’s pint-sized foil, and she can actually act … as opposed to many of the youngsters who turn up in films like this.

The result is far more entertaining than I expected. Heck, at times even mildly poignant.

Bautista has made the most of his post-Guardians of the Galaxy notoriety, and the WWE veteran has the same gruff, brooding charm that helped Arnold Schwarzenegger achieve fame, back in the day. He also has an imposing physical presence that contrasts amusingly with a storyline that demands his character “get in touch with his inner feelings.”

Hardened CIA operative Jason “JJ” Jones (Bautista), ex-Special Forces, is introduced while “handling” a weapons-grade plutonium trade between the Russian Mafia and a Middle Eastern terrorist. The resulting mayhem appears to conclude successfully, but appearances are deceiving; JJ’s cowboy heroics allow one of the key villains to escape.

Back at Langley, JJ’s boss (Ken Jeong, suitably condescending) is extremely displeased; the terrorist in the wind has half the means to threaten the world with a miniaturized nuclear bomb. While a rival agent gets the plum assignment of tracking the most likely action in Paris, JJ is banished to a nondescript Chicago apartment. His job: to surveil a single mother, Kate (Parisa Fitz-Henley), and her 9-year-old daughter, Sophie (Coleman).

Kate’s deceased husband was connected to the terrorists, so there’s an unlikely chance that she knows something. In other words, it’s a tedious, likely useless monitoring gig.

Stuber: Stoo-pid

Stuber (2019) • View trailer 
Two stars. Rated R, for relentless violence and profanity, sexual candor, and fleeting nudity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.12.19

Good grief.

I haven’t seen this much contrived, gratuitous and pointless destruction of property since the inane Disney comedies of the 1960s, when a bear would “accidentally” stumble into somebody’s garage and wreak havoc with scores of spilled paint cans.

Stu (Kumail Nanjiani, right) objects strongly when Vic (Dave Bautista) insists on giving a
ride to a dog they've just rescued. Stu should be more tolerant; this pooch is far more
entertaining than most of the rest of the film.

The bear in this case is Dave Bautista’s Vic Manning, a rogue cop with serious anger issues, thanks to a violent, over-the-top prologue dominated by his protracted, dog-nuts fight with gleefully sadistic bad guy Oka Tedjo (Iko Uwais). Alas, the villain gets away, fueling Vic’s rage during six subsequent months of frustrating, futile investigations.

Director Michael Dowse’s Stuber is one of the most uneven action flicks ever unleashed by Hollywood: at times genuinely funny — mostly when Bautista’s hulking Vic trades verbal barbs with Kumail Nanjiani’s meek and mild Stu — and then atrociously violent and/or needlessly vulgar. 

Dowse doesn’t have the faintest idea what sort of movie he’s making, which is no surprise; Tripper Clancy’s clumsy excuse for a script doesn’t give anybody much to work with. Absent Bautista and Nanjiani’s inherent timing and camera presence, this flick would be a total bomb.

Which is a shame. Bautista and Nanjiani aside, Dowse’s lame effort also wastes the time and talent of solid co-stars Natalie Morales, Karen Gillan and Mira Sorvino. This is an abysmally stupid movie, and Clancy’s script is strictly from hunger.

The result is the sort of tasteless, mean-spirited mess that delights in introducing innocent civilians who hang around long enough to make an impression, before being needlessly snuffed.

On top of which, the publicity campaign is quite misleading. The lovably slobbering dog featured so prominently on the poster art has two fleeting scenes, and plays no part in the action.

Hotel Artemis: Make a reservation!

Hotel Artemis (2018) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated R, for violence, profanity, sexual references and drug use
By Derrick Bang

Back in the era of double features — when dinosaurs roamed the earth — a prestige “A-picture” frequently was accompanied by a low-budget companion pejoratively known as the “B-picture.”

The Nurse (Jodie Foster) and her newest patient — the local crime lord known as
Wolfking (a bloody Jeff Goldblum) — argue "politely" over chain of command, while the
latter's hair-trigger son (Zachary Quinto, center) watches with mounting impatience.

But a studio’s more modest units often were a training ground for gifted, up-and-coming talents, and it wasn’t at all unusual for a B-film to be more entertaining than the bloated, top-of-the-bill “spectacular” that brought folks into the theater.

Given Hollywood’s current obsession with over-hyped franchises and brain-dead popcorn fare, we’ve once again entered a time when unpretentious indie productions can be far more interesting than their mega-budget cousins. We simply don’t call ’em B-films anymore.

Case in point: Hotel Artemis, which marks an impressive directorial debut by writer/producer Drew Pearce, best known — up to this point — as part of the scripting teams on Iron Man 3 and Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation. Pearce’s first solo effort as writer/director is a smart, savvy “what if” thriller set in the near future, with an intriguing premise that makes excellent use of ornately moody surroundings and a solid ensemble cast.

The setting is downtown Los Angeles, late on an average evening in the year 2028. (“It’s a Wednesday,” one of our primary characters wearily repeats on occasion, shaking her head each time.) The most violent riot in L.A. history has entered its third night, with the privatized police force pummeling blue-painted protestors whose only demand is clean water ... because the city’s water supply also has been privatized. Those who don’t pay get their bills cut off.

(As has been noted on numerous occasions, the best science-fiction is that which takes place in a near future that doesn’t seem far removed from reality. Frankly — given the degree to which today’s privileged one percent works so aggressively to disenfranchise the rest of us — I find Pearce’s notion disturbingly prophetic.)

One outwardly decrepit building stands undisturbed amidst a chaos that includes police helicopters being blasted out of the sky by weaponized drones: the imposing Hotel Artemis, seemingly a dilapidated relic of a long-ago past, when it might have been filled with movie stars, high-rollers and local aristocrats.

Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2: Just as awesome!

Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2 (2017) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG-13, for sci-fi action and violence, and mild profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 5.5.17

Overloading slapstick action and succumbing to an enhanced case of the “cutes” has doomed many a sequel; we need look no further than Home Alone 2: Lost in New York.

After crash-landing on a forest planet when their ship is damaged by a pursuing attack
fleet, our heroes — from left, Gamora (Zoe Saldana), the shackled Nebula (Karen
Gillan), Peter Quill (Chris Pratt), Drax (Dave Bautista) and Rocket Raccoon — prepare
to face yet another threat.

Happily, Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2 doesn’t fall victim to the dread sophomore curse. Granted, the concept isn’t quite as fresh this time, and the film does indulge in some wretched excess — at a bloated 136 minutes, it also overstays its welcome a bit — but there’s no denying the fun factor. These rag-tag characters are a hoot, and they’re well played by a savvy ensemble cast.

Most crucially, writer/director James Gunn — reprising both responsibilities from the first film — capably weaves a massive tapestry that includes half a dozen heroes; ongoing interpersonal squabbles; several new associates; bad characters who turn good; a good character who turns bad; an enemy who threatens no less than the entire universe; and a couple of large-scale armadas out for revenge because, well, the Guardians have a tendency to annoy people.

All that said, Gunn hasn’t overlooked the key elements that made the first film so entertaining, particularly expatriate Earth guy Peter Quill’s fixation on the retro 1980s. Indeed, the title’s “Vol. 2” refers not only to this film’s sequel status, but to the second “awesome mix tape” that Quill found at the end of the group’s previous adventure, and the link it provides to his deceased and still mourned mother, since he uses his prized Walkman to hear the songs that meant so much to both of them.

But this new saga’s 1980s, Earth-bound prologue focuses not on Peter, but on an unexpectedly youthful Kurt Russell, wooing Meredith Quill (Laura Haddock) during a larkish country drive, as their car radio blasts the iconic Looking Glass hit, “Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl).”

This being a Marvel Universe story, Meredith seems untroubled by the notion of being courted by a “space man,” but perhaps she can be excused, given Russell’s charm. But wait: What’s that strange-looking shrub that he has planted in the woodsy glen bordering Meredith’s home town?

Flash-forward a quarter-century, and countless star systems away, as Peter (Chris Pratt) and his misfit comrades — the green-skinned Gamora (Zoe Saldana), the brutish Drax (Dave Bautista) and Rocket Raccoon (voiced by Bradley Cooper) — struggle to fulfill their latest commission: to repel a massive, tentacled, space-faring, energy-eating monster that wishes to devour the precious anulax batteries that power the planet inhabited by the xenophobic, perfection-minded, gold-skinned Sovereigns.

And even though their queen, Ayesha (Elizabeth Debicki), gets flirty with Peter — and he with her, much to Gamora’s disgust — that doesn’t save the group from her wrath, when she discovers that Rocket has swiped a few of said batteries.

Cue the first of several space-faring chases.

SPECTRE: Return of the über-villain

SPECTRE (2015) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG-13, for action violence and mild sensuality
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.6.15

This likely is obvious, but it bears mention anyway: Christoph Waltz was born to be a Bond villain.

That chilling insouciance. That monomaniacal smile. That calm air of authority and indifference. The utter certainty that nothing — and nobody — could stand in his way.

After having knocked Madeleine (Léa Seydoux) almost senseless, the unstoppable Hinx
(Dave Bautista, center) does his best to batter Bond (Daniel Craig) and hurl him to his
death from a speeding train.

Waltz’s Oberhauser is sinister.

His interrogation/torture scene here with Daniel Craig’s James Bond is the best — the most memorably macabre — since Auric Goldfinger responded to Sean Connery’s nervous “Do you expect me to talk?” with a mildly vexed “No, Mr. Bond; I expect you to die!”

SPECTRE represents the fruition of simmering narrative plans that have been in play since the Bond franchise was so cleverly re-booted with Craig’s introduction, in 2006’s Casino Royale. The tip-off comes during this new film’s opening credits, as fleeting glimpses of characters from the previous three films waft in and out of Daniel Kleinman’s sleek and sexy visuals.

(Just in passing, Kleinman finally nailed the tone established by the masterful title sequences designed and choreographed so well by the late, great Maurice Binder. The main difference: Kleinman’s are creepier. Which isn’t a bad thing.)

With respect to foreshadowing, longtime fans know that we’ve been here before. Connery’s Bond spent several films dealing with villains set into motion by a  Machiavellian figure silhouetted at the head of an enormous boardroom table, recognized only by the fluffy white cat snuggled into his lap.

Indeed, an early scene in SPECTRE knowingly references just such a sequence from 1965’s Thunderball ... although this update has a more tempestuous outcome.

But that’s getting ahead of things.

Guardians of the Galaxy: Droll sci-fi hijinks

Guardians of the Galaxy (2014) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG-13, for intense sci-fi action and violence, and brief profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.1.14

Call this one Marvel Lite.

The newest chapter in this comics-to-film universe has the playful atmosphere of Josh Whedon’s Firefly or George Lucas’ Star Wars saga, complete with a group of rag-tag sorta-heroes led by a tousled, good ol’ boy who feels like a blend between Han Solo and Indiana Jones. Although Earth-based to one significant degree, most of the action takes place in a galaxy far, far away, with a looming threat to an entire planet and its sizable population.

When it comes time to bust out of a celestial prison, our misfit heroes — clockwise from top
left, Quill (Chris Pratt), Groot, Drax (Dave Bautista), Gamora (Zoe Saldana) and Rocket
Raccoon — reluctantly set aside interpersonal squabbles in order to work together. Note,
however, that working together successfully is an entirely different matter...

But the danger lies not from a Death Star-like weapon, but instead from a supremely powerful alien entity known only as Thanos, who likely will be watching next summer, when Iron Man, Captain America and the rest of the Avengers battle a Big Bad dubbed Ultron.

Meanwhile, the formidable Thanos serves here as puppet master, sending malevolent minions to do his bidding. Which they do, with cheerfully evil glee.

But that’s getting ahead of things; we first must submit to necessary back-story courtesy of scripters James Gunn (who also directs) and Nicole Perlman, who have a good sense of the scruffy, well-worn universe concocted in the 2008 comic book series by Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning. Gunn and Perlman haven’t used quite all of the characters employed by Abnett and Lanning in their misfit not-quite-a-team, but the quintet on hand here certainly satisfies.

Things begin with Earth-born Peter Quill (Chris Pratt), whose presence in these distant reaches of the universe remains a mystery for another time (and the obligatory sequel). Quill, a smuggler and thief, conducts his heists while hoppin’ and boppin’ to a carefully preserved mix tape of “awesome hits” made by his mother, back before she died, and played on his carefully preserved Walkman. (Cue the first of this soundtrack’s many 1970s and ’80s rockers and power anthems. You’ll want the soundtrack.)

Quill’s current contract takes him to the dead and deserted planet of Morag, where he finds a strange metal orb also coveted by Korath (Djimon Hounsou), an associate of Ronan (Lee Pace), hired by the aforementioned Thanos. The fast-talking Quill manages to escape with his prize, only to irritate both his own boss — the blue-skinned Yondu Udonta (Michael Rooker) — and the green-skinned assassin Gamora (Zoe Saldana), another of Ronan’s emissaries, who tries to snatch the orb herself.

This skirmish takes place on the sumptuous, impeccably civilized world of Xandar, where bounty hunters Rocket and Groot are just as eager to catch Quill and collect the reward on his head. Unfortunately, the escalating fracas results in all four being arrested and sent to a massive space prison known as the Kyln.

Relations between our protagonists are tense at best. The hot-tempered Rocket — a genetically altered, cybernetically enhanced talking raccoon — wants nothing to do with these two-legged beings, unless a reward is involved; Quill just wants to escape with the orb, while Gamora has her own plans for that same device. Worse yet, The Kyln’s many prisoners include Drax (wrestling star Dave Bautista), a quiet but massive brute who blames Ronan for the death of his wife and child, and therefore yearns to rip Gamora to shreds, simply for being in the villain’s employ.

Ah, but is she actually in Ronan’s service? In truth, Gamora may have redemptive plans of her own.