Jungle Cruise: A delightful voyage

Jungle Cruise (2021) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for adventure-type violence

Available via: Movie theaters and Disney+

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.30.21 

I know what you’re thinking.

 

Another movie based on a silly Disneyland ride?

 

Our heroes — counterclockwise, from top, Frank (Dwayne Johnson), Lily (Emily Blunt)
and MacGregor (Jack Whitehall) — cannot believe what has just popped out of the
water, in pursuit of their tiny boat.

OK, granted; the first few Pirates of the Caribbean entries were a hoot. But does anybody even remember 1997’s Tower of Terror? Worse yet, can anybody forget 2003’s Haunted Mansion, which almost finished Eddie Murphy’s career?

Yeah, well … scoff if you like, but this one is quite entertaining.

 

Granted, it borrows heavily from Pirates of the Caribbean, Raiders of the Lost Ark and 1999’s The Mummy; and granted, the third act gets needlessly chaotic; and granted, the film runs about 15 minutes too long. (Don’t they all, these days?)

 

No question: This is something of a kitchen sink endeavor, thanks to five credited screenwriters (and likely several more, behind the scenes).

 

But however familiar the wrapping, the contents make the package. And there’s no denying the combined charm of Dwayne Johnson and Emily Blunt, seasoned with the droll comic relief of Jack Whitehall. As ye olde peril-laden treasure hunts go, this one’s a corker.

 

The year is 1916, at the height of World War I. British researcher Lily Houghton (Blunt) and her brother MacGregor (Whitehall) are introduced while trying to persuade a roomful of stuffy academics to back an expedition to the Amazon jungle. She hopes to uncover the mystery behind an ancient tribal artifact, which is supposed to point the way to something reputed to have miraculous restorative powers.

 

The stuffy academics decline, of course. MacGregor looks and sounds like an aristocratic twit; as for Lily, she’s a woman, for goodness’ sake. Who’d pay attention to anything she believes?

 

Well, the stuffy academics should have clocked the fact that this quest also is of great interest to the Teutonic Prince Joachim (Jesse Plemons), whose malevolent bearing screams “sinister” so blatantly, that he may as well have the word tattooed on his forehead.

 

Indeed, it doesn’t take long for Joachim to reveal his stripes.

 

Elsewhere, we meet charismatic Frank Wolff (Johnson), head of the Jungle Navigation Company — just himself, of course — and skipper of the dilapidated La Quila. He leads unwitting visitors to this scruffy Brazilian harbor community on sightseeing cruises along the Amazon, which are low on substance but high on humor (so he insists). 

 

His “typical tour,” which we experience with his newest load of passengers, is this film’s direct nod to the eponymous Disneyland attraction. The homage is hilarious: same cheesy “special effects,” same awful jokes, same wincing puns, the latter delivered with a relentless lack of shame by Johnson.

Mother's Day: Holiday fatigue

Mother's Day (2016) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated PG-13, and rather pointlessly, for fleeting profanity and mildly suggestive content
By Derrick Bang

Veteran director Garry Marshall began what could be termed his “holiday merry-go-round” series with 2010’s Valentine’s Day, which blended an impressively diverse ensemble cast with a reasonably clever series of interlocking stories from scripters Katherine Fugate, Abby Kohn and Marc Silverstein.

When Sandy (Jennifer Aniston, left) brings her sons (Caleb Brown and Brandon Spink)
for their regularly scheduled weekend with their father Henry (Timothy Olyphant), she's
dismayed by his new young wife Tina's (Shay Mitchell) barely there clothing, and by the
lengths she has gone to curry favor with the boys.

It was popular enough to generate a sequel, 2011’s New Year’s Eve, which included a few casting carryovers and a script credited solely to Fugate. Alas, the result wasn’t nearly as satisfying; the intertwining stories weren’t as clever, their outcomes far more predictable.

Despite this, Marshall has gone to the well a third time, with further diminishing returns. Perhaps hoping that new blood would invigorate the premise, Marshall turned this time to scripters Tom Hines, Lily Hollander, Anya Kochoff and Matthew Walker. Frankly, it feels like they worked independently, rather than collaboratively; the episodic narratives link up clumsily, if at all, and Mother’s Day too frequently feels like an average episode of TV’s Love Boat or Fantasy Island.

Which isn’t necessarily bad, I suppose, although that sets the bar rather low.

Yes, some of the arch one-liners will elicit giggles, and it’s still fun to see so many familiar faces in a single project. But the slapstick elements are TV-sitcom stupid, and the core storyline involving racist, insensitive parents churns out a candy-coated happy resolution with ludicrous swiftness (hence the Fantasy Island reference).

So, get your scorecards out...

Sandy (Jennifer Aniston) and Henry (Timothy Olyphant), amicably divorced, have been sharing custody of two young sons (Caleb Brown and Brandon Spink). But the situation’s harmony is shattered when Henry announces his surprise marriage to a much younger hotsy-totsy named Tina (Shay Mitchell). Cutting remarks about cradle-robbing aside, Sandy fears that she’ll be downgraded to “other mother” status: of particular concern, with the impending arrival of Mother’s Day.

At the same time, Sandy hopes to enhance her career as a clothing and set designer by landing an interview with TV shopping network diva Miranda Collins (Julia Roberts), represented by longtime agent and friend Lance Wallace (Marshall perennial Hector Elizondo).