The Marvels: Far from marvelous

The Marvels (2023) • View trailer

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

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.10.23

Oy. What a train wreck.

 

This film is bad in the worst possible way: It’s embarrassing.

 

An embarrassing waste of its cast, and a new low for the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

 

Our heroes — from left, Ms. Marvel (Iman Vellani), Captain Marvel (Brie Larson) and
Monica Rambeau (Teyonah Parris) — watch with horror, as this story's Big Bad
embarks on planet-killing activity.

I cannot imagine what prompted Those In Charge to believe that director/co-writer Nia DaCosta — with only two small features behind her, most recently 2021’s dreadful remake of Candyman — had the chops for a project this ambitious.

Clearly, she doesn’t.

 

The so-called script she cobbled together with Megan McDonnell and Elissa Karasik is a mess: unstructured, uneven, random, laced with glaring hanging chads, and sporting a deus ex machina finale that I defy anybody to explain.

 

Which is a genuine shame, and a lost opportunity. Iman Vellani’s bubbly Kamala Khan was a delightful presence in 2022’s Ms. Marvel limited series, and Brie Larson’s Captain Marvel has been a high point in the MCU since her debut in 2019’s Captain Marvel.

 

Teyonah Parris’ Monica Rambeau debuted as a little girl (Akira Akbar), niece of Carol Danvers (aka Captain Marvel), in the 2019 film; Monica reappeared as an adult in 2021’s WandaVision miniseries, during which she gained the powers she’s still learning to control, in this new film.

 

DaCosta & Co.’s core plot builds on events from Captain Marvel’s 2019 debut, when she rejected her role as a ruthless member of the tyrannical Kree empire, and — wanting to ensure that the Kree never would threaten another world — later destroyed their home planet Hala’s Supreme Intelligence (AI writ very bad).

 

Alas, that supposedly righteous deed had dire consequences. Hala lost its oceans and breathable atmosphere, and its sun died, leaving the planet in perpetual darkness.

 

(Why taking out a super-computer would cause such celestial havoc is left unaddressed: merely the first of this script’s woefully under-explained details.)

 

This Kree therefore vowed revenge on Captain Marvel, whom they dubbed “The Annihilator”; their increasingly dire plight also exacerbated a long-festering war with the shape-shifting Skrulls, whom she helped find a new home world.

 

The story begins as Kree ruler Dar-Benn (Zawe Ashton) — known as the Supremor, wielder of a nasty-looking war hammer — finds a long-sought cosmic bracelet that further enhances her powers. A quick cut to Kamala — at home with parents Muneeba (Zenobia Shroff) and Yusuf (Mohan Kapur), and older brother Aamir (Saagar Shaikh) — reminds us that this is the twin of the bracelet that gave her powers as Ms. Marvel.

Soul: It has serious chops!

Soul (2020) • View trailer

Five stars. Rated PG, for mild thematic elements

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 12.31.20

This isn’t the first time I’ve observed that some of the sharpest, wittiest and most perceptive scripts belong to animated films.

 

An impressive percentage of them come from Pixar.

 

Joe Gardner's soul, right, tirelessly tries to find something that might inspire the cynical,
world-weary — and yet oddly childlike — Soul 22.

Pete Docter has been one of Hollywood’s most innovative writer/directors for well over a decade; he’s also one of the most savvy collaborators. Although he shared scripting credits on WALL•E, Up and Inside Out, all three possess an inventive point of view — a shrewd analysis of the human condition — that bespeaks Docter’s guiding influence.

 

This is even more obvious, given that he directed — and won well-deserved Academy Awards — for the latter two.

 

I figured Inside Out would remain his career masterpiece. I should’ve known better.

 

Soul — directed and co-written by Docter, with scripting assistance from Mike Jones and Kemp Powers — is another animated tour de force that ingeniously blends humor, pathos and social commentary with a wildly imaginative take on what makes us who we are.

 

Whereas Inside Out cheekily proposed how our workaday behavior varies according to the influence of (primarily) joy, sadness, fear and anger, Soul — available (ahem) solely via Disney+ — offers a fascinating theory for how our personalities are shaped, and the unalterable degree to which that influences who and what we become.

 

But the film doesn’t initially seem that way, and that’s another clever touch: An equally strong secondary story beats at its heart.

 

Joe Gardner (voiced by Jamie Foxx), a gifted pianist with wicked jazz chops, has tirelessly gigged in an effort to get the one big break that might ignite a career. He’s a constant disappointment to his mother (Libba Gardner), who wishes he’d abandon such dreams and be content as a middle-school music teacher … particularly since he’s just been offered full-time employment.

 

Ah, but Joe lucks into an audition for world-renowned sax legend Dorothea Williams (Angela Bassett) … and nails it. She makes him a member of her quartet, currently headlining at the Half Note (the absolute epitome, as visualized, of an intimate New York basement jazz club).

 

Giddy with delight, oblivious to his surroundings, Joe has an accident … and winds up — now a much smaller, ghostlike presence that represents his soul — on a moving sidewalk leading heavenward into The Great Beyond.

 

(This whiplash assault on our emotions and expectations — giddy with joy, sharing Joe’s success, to sudden whattheheck??? — is typical of Docter’s films.)

The Big Sick: Just what the doctor ordered!

The Big Sick (2017) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated R, for profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.7.17

Stand-up comics have a significant advantage, when it comes to autobiographical projects; they’ve fine-tuned such material during years of comedy club appearances.

As their relationship blossoms, Kumail (Kumail Nanjiani) and Emily (Zoe Kazan) spend
more and more time together, even as both continue to insist — with diminishing
conviction — that this "isn't anything serious."

The results can be terrific, as demonstrated by (for example) Nia Vardalos’ My Big Fat Greek Wedding and Billy Crystal’s 700 Sundays.

The Big Sick is a similarly delightful experience: by turns sweet, funny and poignant, with a gently instructive cross-cultural moral that we desperately need these days.

The film stars Pakistani-American actor/comedian Kumail Nanjiani, perhaps best recognized from his starring role on HBO’s Silicon Valley. He co-wrote The Big Sick with his wife, Emily V. Gordon; the film depicts their real-life courtship, which started when, as a grad student, she attended one of his stand-up appearances at a Chicago comedy club.

The relationship gets off to a shaky start. Although Kumail (playing himself) and Emily (Zoe Kazan) enjoy each other’s company, neither is looking for a relationship. She’s focused on finishing a master’s degree in couples and family counseling, in order to begin a career as a therapist; he’s enduring the grueling, grinding ordeal of trying to hone a stand-up set in front of frequently unforgiving audiences.

Then there’s the other issue. She’s a modern American white gal; he belongs to a conservative Muslim family, with parents — Azmat (Anupam Kher) and Sharmeen (Zenobia Shroff) — who expect him to enter into a traditional Pakistani arranged marriage. Like they did, and like his older brother Naveed (Adeel Akhtar) did, with his wife Fatima (Shenaz Treasury).

Kumail faithfully has dinner once a week with his family: chaotic affairs with (in his own words) “five different conversations going on, people talking over each other, and everyone’s very loud.” Which wouldn’t be so bad, except that Kumail’s mother always sets a sixth place at the table, in case an eligible young Pakistani woman “happens” to drop in. Which one always does.

Bearing a photo and résumé. Which Kumail dutifully takes back to his apartment, once dinner concludes, and tosses into a cigar box laden with similar profiles.

So yes, there’s a strong echo of Greek Wedding, albeit from a Pakistani perspective. But there’s also a significant difference, because Kumail can’t work up the courage to tell his parents about Emily (whereas she has shared everything about him with her folks). He’s paralyzed by anecdotes about adult children and other relations banished from their families, for similar “transgressions.”

Unfortunately, Kumail also doesn’t share his lack of candor with Emily: a nagging secret that eats at him, as their didn’t-want-a-relationship blossoms into a genuine love affair.

This can only end badly ... but Kumail can’t imagine how badly.