Dust Bunny: Should have been left undisturbed

Dust Bunny (2025) • View trailer

2.5 stars (out of five); rated R, for considerable violence, implied gore and child endangerment

Available via: HBO MAX

By Derrick Bang

File this one under “Be careful what you wish for ... you might get it.”

 

Writer/director Bryan Fuller developed a reputation in the early 21st century for creating adorably quirky television shows such as Dead Like Me, Wonderfalls and — most particularly — Pushing Daisies. He then got more serious last decade, putting his spin on television adaptations of established properties such as Hannibal, American Gods and Star Trek: Discovery.

 

The restaurant setting may be attractively benign, but the barely veiled conversation that
flows between Aurora (Sophie Sloan, left), 5b (Mads Mikkelsen) and Laverne
(Sigourney Weaver) is anything but.

Surprisingly — after all this time — Dust Bunny is his first theatrical feature (although almost nobody noticed its fleeting big-screen appearances last December). It’s quintessentially a work of his wildly outré imagination, but his attempt to blend the whimsy of Pushing Daisies with the brutality of American Gods fails miserably, and succeeds at neither.

Frankly, the result is a mess: a failed effort to re-invent 1994’s Leon: The Professional as an absurdist fantasy.

 

The film begins late at night, as a tiny swirling dust mote grows larger by bumping into other dust chunks, gradually assembling itself into a small, rabbit-shaped dust bunny that scuttles beneath the bed of 8-year-old Aurora (Sophie Sloan). She lives in a fifth-floor New York City apartment with her parents (Line Kruse and Caspar Phillipson).

 

The dust bunny growls at a volume far beyond its tiny size, prompting Aurora to shriek in terror, waking her parents. She insists there’s a monster under her bed; they naturally don’t believe her.

 

(“Grown-ups pretend not to be afraid,” she later comments, “but they are, all the time.”)

 

Aurora clearly is an imaginative child, sharing her bed with all manner of stuffed critters, in a bedroom that production designer Jeremy Reed clearly enjoyed filling with all manner of not-quite-right accessories: dolls with the heads of animals, clocks that don’t show the time, and other mildly disorienting touches.

 

Cinematographer Nicole Hirsch Whitaker amplifies the sense of unreality with all manner of cockeyed, vertigo-inducing camera angles, some shifting in mid-scene.

 

Still frightened, Aurora climbs out her bedroom window and onto the fire escape. A fluttering firefly calls her attention to the neighbor in 5B (Mads Mikkelsen). She follows when he leaves his apartment, and — wide-eyed — watches as he kills a dragon ... actually killing the members of an armed gang in a dragon dance parade puppet.

 

The following morning, a still-terrified Aurora warns her parents to “stay off the floor.” They ignore her, and — as Aurora listens, from her bed, to the sounds on the other side of the closed door — they’re devoured. By something huge.

 

Mufasa, The Lion King: Roars with energy

Mufasa: The Lion King (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, and rather generously, despite considerable violence, peril and dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 12.22.24 

This film’s look is nothing short of spectacular; the blend of animation, photo-real CGI and cinematographer James Laxton’s live-action contribution is amazing. All the animals, as well, look and move with impressive authenticity.

 

You’ll wonder, repeatedly, where actual African vistas surrender to CGI make-believe.

Ideally, though; you shouldn’t spend much time wondering, thanks to Jeff Nathanson’s riveting screenplay. He includes everything: family bonding, friendship, love, betrayal and often brutal Shakespearean drama. Indeed, this film’s PG rating seems generous, given the level of violence and nature’s harshness.

 

The often varied African landscape can be unforgiving.

 

Mufasa opens as Simba and his mate, Nala (Donald Glover and Beyoncé, returning to their roles from 2019’s The Lion King), temporarily leave their young daughter, Kiara (Blue Ivy Carter), in the care of the wise mandrill shaman, Rafiki (John Kani). The cub is frightened by a ferocious thunderstorm, so Rafiki calms her with the saga of her grandfather, Mufasa, who rose from humble origins to become the beloved king of the savannah.

 

This story frequently is interrupted by the antics of wisecracking meerkat Timon (Billy Eichner) and gassy warthog Pumba (Seth Rogen), who attempt to interject their trademark slapstick ... along with repeated attempts to sing “Hakuna Matata.”

 

(Children will find their antics hilarious. In point of fact, they quickly become distracting, even annoying.)

 

The core tale thus unfolds via a lengthy flashback. It opens under grim conditions, as young Mufasa and his parents, Masego (Keith David) and Afia (Anika Noni Rose), join other desperate animals in a search for water during a lengthy drought. Masego celebrates his son’s speed and adventurous spirit; Afia regales him with stories of Milele (“forever”), a cherished savannah “beyond the last cloud in the sky.”

 

A sudden monsoon rainstorm initially seems like salvation, but the resulting flash flood separates Mufasa from his parents; the helpless cub is washed many, many miles downstream.

 

Exhausted when the current finally recedes, barely able to keep his head above water, Mufasa escapes becoming an alligator’s dinner thanks to the timely intervention of Taka (Theo Somolu), a kind-hearted cub from a nearby pride. Alas, this generous act violates the pride’s rule that forbids outsiders, strictly enforced by Taka’s father, Obasi (Lennie James). His more forgiving mate, Eshe (Thandiwe Newton), perceives Mufasa as a lion capable of enhanced senses. Mufasa is allowed to remain.

Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny: A (mostly) fond farewell

Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny (2023) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for intense action violence and fleeting profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.30.23

This slam-bang adventure opens with a prologue that finds Harrison Ford’s surprisingly youthful Indy battling Nazis as they loot Berlin, prior to the city’s fall in the spring of 1945.

 

We briefly wonder: Has director James Mangold resurrected unused footage left over from a previous film?

 

Trying to keep an eye on his, larcenous, long-estranged goddaughter, Helena (Phoebe
Waller-Bridge) proves increasingly difficult for Indy (Harrison Ford), particularly with
a bevy of bad guys hot on their heels.

But no, this is CGI “youthifying” to a truly astonishing degree. (The illusion cracks a few times, fleetingly, but only if you watch very closely.)

This fracas establishes what will become the story’s ongoing clashes between Indy and the nefarious Dr. Jürgen Voller (Mads Mikkelsen), over possession of the Antikythera, an artifact also known as the Archimedes Dial. For reasons unknown when the story begins, the famed Greek mathematician broke the mechanism into two halves, one of which is stashed on a train bearing the Nazis’ stolen plunder.

 

Cue an action-packed melee within and atop the aforementioned moving train, between Indy — accompanied by his overwhelmed Oxford colleague, Basil Shaw (Toby Jones) — and scores of Nazis led by the hissably unpleasant Col. Weber (Thomas Kretschmann). Voller, on the sidelines, has his own agenda.

 

(It’s a shame that what ultimately becomes a mano a mano skirmish between Indy and Weber, atop the train, features many of the same stunts, moves and details employed by Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning, Part One, due in two weeks. Did these two production teams spy on each other?)

 

Cut to Aug. 3, 1969, the day the Apollo 11 astronauts are feted with a New York City ticker tape parade; and also the final day of teaching at Hunter College for an older, wearier and somewhat disillusioned Professor Jones. Not that any of his students will notice, since they have absolutely no interest in archaeology.

 

But one surprise visitor does: Basil’s daughter — and Indy’s goddaughter — Helena (Phoebe Waller-Bridge), whom he hasn’t seen for years. She’s full of praise and questions, the latter quickly turning to the long-unseen partial Archimedes Dial. Believing her interest to be sincere, Indy reveals that it is indeed in his possession.

 

Elsewhere, in a posh hotel room, Voller and his neo-Nazi associate, Klaber (Boyd Holbrook) — along with their hulking man-mountain, Hauke (Olivier Richter), and a few other lackeys — have a chilling encounter with the Black porter (Alton Fitzgerald White) who delivers breakfast. Voller is contemptuous; White’s expression, body language and reply are sublime.

 

Alas, Voller’s men crash Indy and Helena’s reunion, demanding the Archimedes dial. Worse yet, during the ensuing fracas, Helena reveals her true stripes: She’s a career con artist, liar and thief. She snatches the dial, manages to elude everybody, and — to Indy’s disappointment and horror — swiftly departs the country in order to sell the artifact to the highest black market bidder in Tangier.

Arctic: Absolutely riveting

Arctic (2019) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity and occasional profanity
By Derrick Bang

Drama can’t get more elemental than this.

Director/co-scripter Joe Penna’s Arctic is a grim survival saga anchored by a sensational performance by Mads Mikkelsen. It’s minimalist acting stripped to its basics: Almost no dialog emerges during this 97-minute nail-biter, for the obvious reason that Mikkelsen’s character has nobody to talk to.

Whenever the harsh weather relents, Overgård (Mads Mikkelsen) leaves the shelter of
his downed plane in order to complete the "chores" necessary for his ongoing survival.
Unfortunately, his daily ritual is about to change, and quite suddenly.

And yet we intimately bond with him during cinematographer Tómas Örn Tómasson’s stark opening tableau, and thereafter — our teeth clenched, breath held, heart in mouth — every resolute step of the way.

The bleak question hovering over such films is obvious: Will a courageous struggle be rewarded with rescue? The recent track record is mixed. 2003’s Open Water tortured us before a thoroughly reprehensible outcome; 2013’s All is Lost put Robert Redford — and us — through hell before a more satisfying conclusion. (2015’s The Revenant had many more characters in play.)

It must be noted, though, that the two ocean-bound thrillers involved people who weren’t well equipped to deal with their catastrophic circumstances. That isn’t true of Mikkelsen’s Overgård, introduced well into an extended crisis (weeks? months?) that — so far — he has been managing reasonably well.

He’s a pilot, perhaps part of a search-and-rescue unit, whose plane apparently crashed during some earlier operation. Penna and co-scripter Ryan Morrison don’t bother with flashbacks that might explain such details, as they’re inconsequential. The plane can’t fly with a crippled wing, but the intact fuselage provides adequate shelter … albeit unheated.

The passage of time is maintained, in this snow-blasted landscape, by a watch set to beep at meticulously recorded intervals. Overgård’s daily rituals are marked by ice fishing, at which he’s quite proficient; shoveling snow off a massive SOS, easily visible to any aircraft that might pass overhead; carefully tending to a curiously small pyramid of rocks; and dutifully sending a distress signal via a hand-cranked generator. 

In a sense, he’s no different than the sole inhabitant of a desert island. On the plus side, he’ll never want for water; on the other hand, he’s slowly being crippled by frostbite.

The landscape is beautiful in its ice- and snow-blasted emptiness; we can tell, from Overgård’s occasionally admiring gaze, that he hasn’t lost his appreciation for these surroundings. (The film was shot on a volcanic plateau in the highlands of Iceland, reputed to be the harshest survivable environment on Earth. I don’t doubt it.)

At the same time, Mikkelsen’s expression is calculating; we understand that Overgård continually analyzes and weighs his only two options: stay … or try to walk out.

Then, suddenly, the decision is made for him.

Rogue One: Plenty of thrills in this Star Wars entry

Rogue One (2016) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG-13, for intense sci-fi action and violence
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 12.16.16

The Force is strong with this one.

Rogue One is a crackling entry in the Star Wars canon, perhaps most accurately subtitled Episode 3.95. It takes place immediately preceding 1977’s original Star Wars, and in fact can be viewed as the events abridged in that film’s opening text crawl.

Once Jyn (Felicity Jones) agrees to join Cassian Andor (Diego Luna) on a mission to find
and rescue her father from the evil Empire, she's startled to discover that her new
partner's companion droid, K-2SO, is a former Imperial Enforcer Droid ... with a
distinct inferiority complex.

The fast-paced script — credited to John Knoll, Gary Whitta, Chris Weitz and Tony Gilroy — is equal parts heist thriller and down ’n’ dirty war film: a fairly grim escapade, by this series’ usual standards, taking place at a time that finds the severely overmatched rebel Alliance without much of the “new hope” promised by the eventual arrival of Luke, Han and the many others destined to enter the fray.

This film’s essential place in series continuity notwithstanding, director Gareth Edwards and his scripters manage the neat trick of making it a solid stand-alone adventure, for the benefit of any first-time Star Wars viewers (assuming such individuals still exist). This adventure builds to a terrific climax, while also delivering an unexpected degree of emotional gravitas.

The prologue and first act are a bit top-heavy with exposition and the need to introduce a lot of new characters, but — once beyond the information dump — it’s smooth sailing.

Galen Erso (Mads Mikkelsen), once a respected scientist with the evil Empire, became appalled by the weapons of mass destruction he’d been fabricating for his masters; he fled to an outworld planet with his wife Lyra (Valene Kane) and their young daughter Jyn, hoping to remain beneath the Imperial radar. As the film opens, they’ve just been found by Imperial Director Orson Krennic (Ben Mendelsohn), a former colleague, and now an implacable enemy determined to put Galen back to work on a massive new project.

From the moment we meet him, Mendelsohn oozes the “foul stench” that has characterized the best of the Star Wars middle-management villains. His curled-lip sneer and quietly condescending tone make him the pluperfect martinet.

Krennic succeeds in his task, but little Jyn manages to escape and hide in a bolt-hole, where she’s eventually rescued by Saw Gerrera (Forest Whitaker), a rebel guerrilla fighter given considerable exposure in TV’s animated Clone Wars series. (It’s nice to put a live-action face to this character.)

Doctor Strange: Needs life support

Doctor Strange (2016) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated PG-13, for nonstop fantasy violence and a nasty crash scene
By Derrick Bang

As a card-carrying member of the original Merry Marvel Marching Society, I kept waiting for Dr. Strange to employ one of his favorite signature phrases: “By the hoary hosts of Hoggoth!”

The Western-educated Stephen Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch, right) resists the
possibility of actual magic, until the Ancient One (Tilda Swinton) whips up a few quick spells
that remove all doubt. And suddenly Stephen wonders: What else doesn't he know?

Never happened.

Here’s what else never happened: any flicker of emotional involvement with this pinball machine of a movie.

Magic-laced fantasy is much more difficult than creators often assume. Rigorous rules must be set in place, and the supernatural realm carefully conceived, with a comprehensible balance between good and evil: something that J.K. Rowling — as a recent successful example — understands full well.

To get sloppy with such strictures — or ignore them completely — results in a “story” of make-it-up-as-we-go chaos. When no limits are placed on heroes and villains, any conflict becomes meaningless. If a bad guy can bend reality to his will, well, there’s always a sentient magic cloak to help the good guy at a dire moment. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Toss in the potential for an instant re-boot, given the ability to manipulate time, and the result is even more inane.

And b-o-r-i-n-g.

This was the insurmountable problem with late spring’s most recent X-Men adventure, where the über-villain Apocalypse could re-shape the material world with a wave of his hand. That made him effectively unbeatable, until ultimately defeated by some “tricks” that didn’t make any sense, in light of his inherent abilities. Meanwhile, we endured an hour’s worth of meaningless, time-wasting, thud-and-blunder nonsense.

Same here.

Happily, Doctor Strange isn’t laced with the sort of landscape-leveling melees that cratered entire landscapes, in early spring’s Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice (another soulless disappointment). Physical mayhem rarely played a part in this second-tier Marvel character’s various adventures. The “master of the mystic arts” instead battled his adversaries with spells and counter-spells, often in fantastic parallel dimensions of unreality that were an excuse — in the hippy-dippy 1960s and early ’70s — for comic book panels laced with eye-popping, psychedelic visuals.

They were the four-color, printed equivalent of the LSD-influenced “star gate” sequence in 1968’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, which dazzled substance-altered viewers for decades.

But no matter how hard Marvel’s writers tried — and this remained an ongoing issue — it was hard to identify with Dr. Stephen Strange. He and his opponents were too powerful, too indefinable, too weird. And too blandly impassive.