Supergirl: A wobbly flight

Supergirl (2024) • View trailer

Three stars (out of five); rated PG-13, for strong action violence and occasional profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

In and of itself, the notion that Kara-El (Milly Alcock) has become a self-destructive tear-away is appropriately poignant.

 

Kara (Milly Alcock, left) repeatedly tries to protect Ruthye (Eve Ridley), by insisting that
she remain safe, but the plucky, sword-wielding young woman refuses to be left behind.

Unlike her older cousin Kal-El (Superman), who had the benefit of loving step-parents and a pastoral Midwestern upbringing, Kara’s backstory is laden with emotionally crippling tragedy (and is faithful to established Super-family lore). No surprise, then, that she spends most of her time on red-sun planets, where her powers are erased, enabling her to indulge in rash behavior and endless drunken binges.

(That said, the notion that she wasn’t killed long ago, while hanging out amid such ill-advised company, is the first sign of trouble in Ana Nogueira’s lamentably uneven and illogical script.)

 

Kara’s current multi-day bender is prompted by her 23rd birthday, an occasion that merely reminds her of the long-gone friends and family members no longer able to celebrate with her.

 

Meanwhile...

 

Elsewhere on Holzherr, the red sun planet where Kara has made her home, Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts) — the savage, remorseless leader of the vicious, Viking-like Brigand scavengers — gleefully murders weapons craftsman Elias (Ferdinand Kingsley), his wife Delilah (Emily Piggford) and their son Edmond (Bruce Lennox), while younger daughter Ruthye (Eve Ridley) watches in horror.

 

By activating booby traps, Elias destroys Krem’s ship before being cut down. The killer and his remaining men trudge away, certain of finding some alternative means of transportation.

 

Since we later learn that Krem and his all-male Brigands have been kidnapping young women, in order to force them to bear male children, it makes no sense that Krem fails to snatch Ruthye on the spot ... and yet he doesn’t. (Let’s call this the second of the many awkward hiccups raised by Nogueira’s sloppy script.)

 

While getting happily blasted at her favorite local pub, Kara is surprised when the grimly determined Ruthye shows up, offering her father’s sole remaining sword to any mercenary willing to help her track down Krem.

 

This alien-laden setting is a cross between Australian Outback pub, East Asian dive bar and Western American saloon, and laden with ooky aliens that make Star Wars’ Mos Eisley Cantina look like a kindergarten class. No surprise, one of the largest and ugliest pubgoers simply snatches the sword, irritating Kara enough to demand its return ... with predictably violent results.

 

But wait ... red sun planet, remember? Kara has no powers, yet we’re supposed to believe that this 5-foot-5 twentysomething slip of a woman could defeat such a huge pug-ugly? (Shall we call this the script’s third awkward hiccup?)

 

The Covenant: Promises to keep

The Covenant (2023) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for strong violence, frequent profanity and brief drug content

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 4.21.23

Although director Guy Ritchie’s harrowing war drama is a fictionalized extrapolation of actual events, it’ll resonate strongly with anybody horrified by what has become of Afghanistan.

 

Americans who served there likely will find this particularly grim viewing.

 

Although Sgt. John Kinley (Jake Gyllenhaal, right) has been told that the road ahead is
safe, he eventually yields to the insistence of his interpreter, Ahmed (Dar Salim), who
is convinced that something is amiss.

Ritchie and his co-writers — Ivan Atkinson and Marn Davies — have concocted a nail-biter that shines a spotlight on the many thousands of Afghan translators and military personnel who were shamefully abandoned when American forces withdrew in May 2021 … despite having been promised visas and safe passage to the States, for themselves and all family members.

Nor was this merely a case of being “left behind.” It was — and remains — common knowledge that the Taliban would hunt down, torture and execute Afghans who previously worked alongside U.S. and NATO forces. 

 

One of a well-crafted story’s strongest assets is its ability to transform an abstract — “thousands” — into a tightly focused saga of symbolic individuals. That’s definitely the case here.

 

It’s March 2018, the setting Bagram Air Base, Parwan Province, in Taliban-occupied Afghanistan. Army Sgt. John Kinley (Jake Gyllenhaal) — on his final tour of duty, looking forward to returning home to his wife and children — leads an elite unit tasked with finding Taliban munitions. A routine search at a vehicle checkpoint goes awry when two of Kinley’s men — one of them the group’s Afghan interpreter — are killed by a lorry bomb.

 

Back at base, in need of a new interpreter, John selects Ahmed (Dar Salim) from half a dozen willing candidates. John is impressed by Ahmed’s ability to speak “four languages worth speaking,” but is cautioned about the newcomer’s reputation for independent thinking.

 

As it soon turns out, Ahmed knows stuff … lots of who, what and where. Even so, the initial dynamic is prickly; John, not accustomed to being questioned by a “mere translator,” views such behavior as borderline insubordination. (“Actually,” Ahmed retorts at one point, “I’m here to interpret.”) Gyllenhaal’s gaze and attitude stop just shy of being condescending or racist; John simply is more accustomed to strict protocol and the military chain of command.

 

Salim, in turn, grants Ahmed a multitude of depth via his expression and body language: intelligence, wariness, quiet nobility and — most of all — mild amusement, at the arrogance of Americans who claim to “know better.”

 

When the unit is deployed once again on the house-by-house search of a nearby village, Ahmed’s initial efforts to help — outside his interpreter duties — are rebuffed by John, who nonetheless notes the accuracy of the new man’s input. A few sorties later, armed with information on two potential Taliban IED manufacturing sites, Ahmed’s instincts prove very helpful during a drive to the first.

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.)

 

Outside the Wire: And let's leave it there

Outside the Wire (2021) • View trailer

Two stars. Rated R, for relentless profanity and violence

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 2.12.21  

Lazy science-fiction is truly annoying.

 

Actually, Netflix’s Outside the Wire barely qualifies; it’s really just a testosterone-fueled, shoot-’em-up war flick with superficial sci-fi trimmings. Scripters Rowan Athale and Rob Yescombe rely on attitude rather than the slightest hint of character depth, or the philosophical issues of their clichéd scenario.

 

Given that they're pinned down by enemy fire, Harp (Damson Idris, right) has good
reason to be concerned. He needn't be, because Leo (Anthony Mackie) is about to
demonstrate his enhanced fighting skills.

Their grunt-level sensibilities become obvious immediately — two minutes in! — when everybody onscreen relentlessly employs F-bombs as adjectives, adverbs, prepositions, conjunctions, verbs and interjections. That’s just tiresome.

 

Mikael Håfström helms this mess with the subtlety of a charging rhinoceros. No surprise, given a résumé of similarly undistinguished thrillers and horror flicks (Drowning Ghost, Derailed, Escape Plan, etc.). Ergo, we shouldn’t expect anything better here.

 

So.

 

The year is 2036, and Eastern Europe has become a relentless war zone; the Russians once again are the villains of choice. Good-guy Americans fight alongside lumbering robot soldiers pejoratively dubbed “Gumps” (presumably after Forrest Gump, which is pretty damn insulting). This isn’t any sort of advantage, because the bad-guy soldiers have their own Gumps.

 

We pause, for a moment, to explore this a bit. No mention ever is made, regarding how Gumps receive and execute their orders; no indication of who programs and controls them; no contemplation of whether they could be hacked by the opposition; and so forth. They’re just part of the noisy wallpaper. (Like I said, lazy writing.)

 

The ground troops are supported by drones controlled from afar by pilot teams such as Harp (Damson Idris) and Bale (Kristina Tonteri-Young). When a nasty firefight threatens to become catastrophic, Harp makes a needs-of-the-many choice that saves dozens of soldiers, at the expense of two who perish. Trouble is, that decision disobeys a direct order.

 

Rather than being court-martialed and sent home in disgrace, Harp is assigned to accompany Capt. Leo (Anthony Mackie) on a covert ground mission beyond the fenced American compound (ergo, “outside the wire”). Intel reports that a lunatic named Victor Koval (Pilou Asbaek) intends to obtain the launch codes for a handful of nukes, with which to terrorize the world (we assume); Leo wants Harp along because he “thinks outside the box.”

 

Ah, but — as Harp soon learns — Leo isn’t just any black-ops specialist; he’s “fourth-generation biotech.” (Again, questions: Where did he come from? Does this mean first-, second- and third-generation biotechs are wandering around? Answers come there none.)