Monsterland (11.20.20)

 

When it comes to consuming horror media, I’m a bit of an oddball. While I love scary novels and listening to spooky podcasts about ghosts, I absolutely hate horror movies and television (with an exception of Supernatural, but that’s another story). Why this is, I have no idea. Regardless, I knew this was something I had to overcome when October rolled around for the first time since I started these reviews; people want scary for Halloween, so I am going to review something scary for Halloween. One thing that caught my eye was Hulu’s new anthology series (or miniseries… that’s kind of unclear from what I’ve read) Monsterland. But while I found it well acted and occasionally frightening, Monsterland is not really what I expected: Instead of being a story about monsters stalking people across the USA, it is more about the monstrous things that we as humans are capable of. The actual monsters are more of a feature than the point, but if you know this beforehand there is still a good time to be had with Monsterland.  

Perhaps the focus on the potential for evil in humanity shouldn’t have caught me off guard (the tagline for the series is “fear the monster inside us all,” after all), but it was still a bit of a let down when the first episode ended and I found myself bummed out instead of terrified. Monsterland is a far-from-lighthearted affair that features heavy thematic elements and damaged people in depressing circumstances. It’s not what I would call “fun” by any stretch of the imagination, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad; there are still bouts of terror to keep the audience from wallowing in empathetic despair for too long (this is how you do it, The Devil All the Time. Look forward to my review of THAT depressing slog soon if it hasn’t come out already). Other pluses are the acting, which is well done in every episode, the score, which is impressive, varied, and adds greatly to the tension, and, best of all, the fact that the series treats you like an adult. You’re never really spoon-fed anything in Monsterland, and each episode has at least one moment that requires the audience to come to their own conclusions. It is, in other words, a series that begs (well, let’s not go crazy here… let’s say “asks politely”) to be discussed and argued over long after the credits roll (or long after Hulu has skipped to the next “recommended” series). Or is “best of all” the fact that one episode is set in our very own Eugene, Oregon? I can’t decide.  

Like all anthologies, Monsterland has some episodes that are better than others, but all-in-all the series is worth your time if you’re looking for something a little more thoughtful and a little less fun this Halloween. If a nonstop rollercoaster of thrills is something you’re after, however, best look elsewhere.  

Just don’t look under the bed.  

Monsterland is now available on Hulu.   

 

This review was first published in The Keizertimes on November 20^th, 2020. Visit at http://keizertimes.com/

 

Hindsight: What a horrifically cheesy way to end a review. Also, why did I feel the need to mention Supernatural in my intro? Between when I first submitted this article and when it was first printed, I had to do a couple of re-edits because The Keizertimes did not run it before Halloween like I thought they would (pretty big gap, if you notice the date on it). This is the original. A director's cut, if you will. Lucky you.   

 

 

Enola Holmes (11.06.20)

 

According to Guinness World Records, there is not a single literary character who has been portrayed as frequently as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s eminent detective Sherlock Holmes. Greats such as Basil Rathbone, Peter Cushing, Christopher Lee, Michael Cane, Robert Downey Jr., Benedict Cumberbatch, and even John Cleese have left their mark on the character, and with each depiction it seems like it becomes harder and harder to differentiate one’s performance from the last person to step into the pipe and deerstalker. This oversaturation (which is exacerbated by the fact that Sherlock Holmes is a public domain character) means the detective’s universe is ripe for many a reinterpretation. Disney made the character a mouse, Cumberbatch portrayed him as a modern-day “high-functioning sociopath,” and now Netflix and Henry Cavill have turned him into something unheard of: a supporting character. Enola Holmes is instead the story of Sherlock and Mycroft’s younger sister, a brilliant detective in her own right, and her attempt to find their missing mother. It is a light, bubbly film that is a whole lot of fun despite some pacing issues and a couple of heavy-handed moral lessons.  

             Millie Bobby Brown stars as the titular Enola, and she is every bit as brilliant here as a Victorian tomboy as she is when playing a psychic runaway with a taste for Eggos. She emanates charisma and youthful energy, making it impossible not to smile whenever she turns to the camera to say something silly and/or clever. This not only gives Enola a way to vocalize her thoughts while alone, but also makes the viewer feel like they are right there on the adventure with her. Accompanying Brown the entire way is an upbeat score, amusing visuals, and an excellent supporting cast. But the movie is not without its flaws.  

            One of the things that struck me was how little the Sherlock Holmes mythology seemed to matter to the overall story. Henry Cavill’s Sherlock barely has anything to do, Mycroft is reduced to a strawman anti-feminist, Watson doesn’t seem to exist (or at least has not come into the picture yet), and I get the feeling that the movie (and the novels it was based on) only had the Holmes connection so they had some built-in name recognition when released. The plot is decent enough, although the fast and fun story definitely loses a lot of steam when Enola decides to help a new friend with a problem that is not relevant at all to the main plot until the very end. The life lessons the movie attempts to teach on the way are also a bit generic… be yourself, don’t let others decide who you should be, etc., and the feministic overtones are welcome if a bit overdone (one scene is almost entirely devoted to telling Sherlock how good he has it as a white male). I am, however, most definitely not the target audience for this film, the lessons are important, and I certainly won’t begrudge teenage girls another kick-ass feminine hero to look up to and learn from in the meantime.  

            Overall, Enola Holmes is a fun family film with a little for everyone. So fire up that Netflix account and get that game afoot.  

            Enola Holmes is now available on Netflix.  

 

 

This review was first published in The Keizertimes on November 6th, 2020. Visit at http://keizertimes.com/

 

Hindsight: I guess the mythos does matter to the story a bit, because Enola needs to step out of the shadows of someone. Her trying to forge her own identity separate from her legendary brother is part of her journey. Completely unrelated, but I just realized that "Enola" is an actual name, and not just a dumb made up one. The Enola Gay was the plane that dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. Pretty sure she's not named after the plane, but after a quick Wikipedia dip I found out that the plane was named after the pilot's mother. So it is a real name for a person. Interesting.

The review is fine. Intro is a bit long, and I still feel like I was a bit too critical of how the movie handled life lessons. Oh well. 

The Devil All the Time (10.30.20)

It’s been a very, very long time since I went into a movie completely and utterly blind. These days, it is nigh impossible to not know at least a smidgen beforehand about the latest cinematic tale one sits down to experience between the trailers, TV spots, and audience reactions that bombard us every time we turn on anything even vaguely electronic. Some of this foreknowledge can be necessary, however; if you hate mid-thirtieth century romances about robot cowboys from Mars, wouldn’t you want to know if the movie you are about to watch is a mid-thirtieth century romance about robot cowboys from Mars? When it comes to reviews, however, I am a little less picky, as I try to watch things I would not normally watch for the sake of variety. That all being said, I wish I didn’t go into The Devil All the Time as blind as I did, because I probably wouldn’t have gone into it at all. It is not a mid-thirtieth century romance about robot cowboys from Mars, because that would be at least a little bit enjoyable. Overall, The Devil All the Time is a very well made movie that seemed to delight in making me hate it. 

            Ably acted by an all-star cast that includes such names as Tom Holland, Robert Pattinson, Bill Skarsgard, and Sebastian Stan, The Devil All the Time is, in short, excessive. There is not a single light moment in the entire run time, nor is there a single morally decent character (unless you count the two that quickly get brutally offed for the crime of being morally decent). The closest we get to a hero is a deeply troubled and violent high school student, and he still kills people. Meanwhile, the theme of religious extremism and how it can lead people to commit atrocities is not so much delicately explored as it is used as a cudgel on the unsuspecting skull of the viewer. I don’t dislike dark movies. I like them just as much as lighthearted movies when I am in the right mood. But stringing together a few different stories of bad people doing bad things just to invoke negative feelings in the audience is different. Exploring negative themes is fine, but when a film does nothing to prove or hint that things can get better, there is a problem. There is little to no hope to be found in this movie, and religion apparently either turns you into complete psychopath or a naïve child with nothing in between.  

            As I write this, I realize that the problems I have with The Devil All the Time arise from the duties I think all films need to perform; they must entertain, or they must teach. The greatest ones do both, and the worst ones do neither. I was not entertained by The Devil All the Time even though it was technically a fine film, nor did it teach me anything. What it did was remind me that despicable people are out there and there is little we can do about it. Yaaay.  

Am I letting my emotions rule this particular review and my reaction to this movie? Absolutely. I understand that you should usually hate the message (people suck) and not the messenger (the movie). But I am only a man. You might very well love The Devil All the Time. I did not.  

The Devil All the Time is now available on Netflix.  

 

 

This review was first published in The Keizertimes on October 30th, 2020. Visit at http://keizertimes.com/

 

Hindsight: it's Christmas time, so I don't really feel like reflecting on this movie. The review is sexy as always. 

My Octopus Teacher (10.09.20)

 

According to an article published by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, more than 80 percent of the earth’s oceans remain unexplored. I realize that this is a statistic that gets thrown around a lot as a fun bit of trivia, but I challenge you to really think about it; when coupled with the fact that over 70 percent of our world is ocean, this means that we know very little about more than half of the planet that we call home. If space is the final frontier, then the oceans are definitely the semifinal frontier. But while the seas are a fascinating hotbed of unexplored potential, they can also be terrifying, dark, and alien. Such locales are usually best seen with an experienced guide who knows his or her way around, and when there are no Sherpas or Sméagols around, an octopus will have to do. My Octopus Teacher is one such mollusky tale that is occasionally boring, occasionally beautiful, and one that is much more of a personal narrative than an academic one.  

            The first thing that struck me when watching this new Netflix documentary was how pretty a lot of it is. I’m not a guy who usually cares about picture quality (I’m not even sure if my TV is HD or 4K), but My Octopus Teacher is one of those films that higher definitions were made for. Maybe this is true of any sea-based documentary… I wouldn’t know, as I’m not exactly an aficionado. But when you throw some soothing music on top of it all, the whole thing makes for a pleasant experience, if not a riveting one. The narrator’s voice is uncommonly boring to listen to, and the action never moves beyond the same stretch of water. I would be lying if I said my attention didn’t wander occasionally or that I felt like falling asleep more than once, but overall it was a harmless hour-and-a-half that made me smile and feel at peace as much as it made me bored.  

            The story itself basically boils down to this: A guy is feeling depressed (is he having a mid-life crisis? Going through a divorce? The backstory is murky and unclear) and decides to take up diving. He meets a cool octopus and it teaches him about life. That’s… pretty much it. It is a small and intimate tale that made me think of the important relationships I have had with animals in my own life and even made me want to have an octopus friend before I remembered I find them creepy and gross. This is not a documentary that throws facts at you (I didn’t learn anything new about octopuses), but one that makes you feel if you let it.  

            Will I remember My Octopus Teacher in a year? No. I honestly doubt that I’ll remember anything about it beyond next week or so as I move on to my next review. But for those who need a reminder of the beauty and terror of nature (or for those who have run out of melatonin), My Octopus Teacher will do just fine.  

            My Octopus Teacher is now available on Netflix.  

 

This review was first published in The Keizertimes on October 9th, 2020. Visit at http://keizertimes.com/

 

Hindsight: After I wrote this I found out that the documentary had gotten rave reviews and I don't really get it. Like I said, it's touching, but also pretty boring. My intro paragraph was a bit long on this one. Screw intro paragraphs... They're annoying and I hate them.

High Score (09.25.20)

 

Ever since I received my first gaming system, a lime green Gameboy Color, and chose Squirtle as my starter companion in Pokémon Red Version, I have had a passion for video games. Despite this, I have never been great at them; I am one of those guys who can play Super Smash Bros. and Halo against my friends for hours and have a blast, but never really get any better. I therefore did not grow up with any illusions that I would be able to make a career out of this hobby when I got older. Instead, I went with the slightly more useful history degree. This combination of passions not only draws me to games that feature historical locations and events (such as Ubisoft’s Assassin’s Creed series), but also instills within me with a fascination of the history of video games themselves. High Score, a shiny new Netflix miniseries, adds some interesting new colors to the tapestry that is video game history, but it is not a great comprehensive history in and of itself.  

Narrated by Charles Martinet, the man who has been the voice of Mario and his kin for no less than thirty years and over one hundred games, High Score starts with the creation of Space Invaders in 1978 and ends with the transition of the medium into 3D with 1993’s Doom and Star Fox. This is a bit curious, as the industry neither began in 1978 nor did it end in 1993. Not only this, but there are a few important developments and people in the interim years that High Score barely touches upon. Legendary creator Shigeru Miyamoto, the mind behind both Super Mario Bros. and The Legend of Zelda, only gets a cursory mention in the second episode and then is not brought up again until the last episode, for instance. Instead of focusing on each touchstone with the attention each one deserves, High Score instead bounces back and forth between talking about game development and talking about a few select superfans (and I do mean bounce; the series can come off as a bit ADD at times, as it has a tendency to switch subjects frequently and with little in the way of segues). While these latter stories certainly add fresh flavors to the history presented in the miniseries, they also take up time that could have otherwise been spent fleshing out some of the more important events and games. Bottom line, if you know a few things about the history of video games already, High Score will supplement that knowledge, but if you are going into the series blind, you should probably look elsewhere for a more complete history.  

That being said, High Score still does a lot of things right. Martinet has a great voice for narration (don’t worry, he doesn’t talk in his Mario voice… that would get annoying fast) and the series is never boring to look at. There is a great deal of charming animations and set pieces throughout that give High Score a whole lot of personality, and if you can stomach the occasional cheesy joke now and then, it is sure to entertain. Just don’t look at it as a complete history of video games and you’ll be as golden as the Triforce or one of Sonic’s rings.  

High Score is now available on Netflix.   

 

This review was first published in The Keizertimes on September 25^th, 2020. Visit at http://keizertimes.com/

 

Hindsight: I talk about myself too much. This is supposed to be a review, not an "about me" section on a dating app. The intro did come together nicely by the thesis statement, though. I also hate the last line of the last paragraph. Pretty cheesy. 

Palm Springs (09.04.20)

 

One of my guilty pleasures in this life is a little comedic rap group that goes by the name of The Lonely Island. Raunchy, foul-mouthed, immature, and exceptionally hilarious and clever, the group first made it big when they all got jobs at Saturday Night Live: Jorma Taccone and Akiva Schaffer as writers and Andy Samberg as a featured player. After pioneering SNL Digital Shorts and essentially inventing the viral YouTube video, the group tried its hand at feature film making to a lesser degree of success; while still funny, the two films that they wrote, directed, and starred in, 2007’s Hot Rod and 2016’s Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping, were hardly what one could consider box office or critical hits. I’m still a fan of both, however, and was therefore excited to learn that they had produced another film called Palm Springs. While it was a bit less straightforward comedy and much more romcom than I was expecting, I found this Sundance hit to be a charmingly good time if not a wholly original one.  

            Have you seen Groundhog Day? Of course you’ve seen Groundhog Day; it’s a classic. Palm Springs has a plot much like that of Groundhog Day, but the kicker is that there is more than one person stuck in the time loop in this story. Although the movie does get some mileage from this simple tweak to the living-one-day-over-and-over-again premise, there is no denying that a lot of the themes are almost identical to the those in the 1993 Bill Murray classic. The quest to find meaning in a world free of long-term consequences, the indifference towards life one develops when one becomes essentially immortal, trying to get things right and become a better person… it’s all there. But Palm Springs truly sets itself apart with its love story.  

As I said earlier, this is a full-on romcom instead of being another exercise in full-on silliness and absurdity. The leads, Andy Samberg and Cristin Milioti, have just as many dramatic and romantic scenes as they do funny scenes, and they are both more than up to the task (surprisingly so for Samberg… I didn’t know the guy could act in addition to being funny). This is, undoubtedly, a result of the fact that the guys in The Lonely Island only produced this film instead of writing and directing in it as well (with the exception of Samberg, obviously). The characters they play are not always likeable and their romance occasionally seems a little one-sided, once skewed towards Sarah (Milioti) and then skewed towards Nyles (Samberg), but the two still have great chemistry that kept me invested. All in all, the premise might not be original, but what screenwriter Andy Siara and director Max Barbakow did with the premise was impressive. I should also mention one other big difference between this film and its inspiration: While Groundhog’s Day is a family friendly PG, Palm Springs is an R-rated affair that you should NOT watch with kids. It thoroughly earns its R rating with swearing, some sexual content, and hard drug use. Also, Andy Samberg gets shot by J.K. Simmons with a bow and arrow a couple of times, but we’ll let that slide.  

Palm Springs is now available on Hulu.   

 

 

This review was first published in The Keizertimes on September 4^th, 2020. Visit at http://keizertimes.com/

 

Hindsight: I don't like the intro. Seems a bit too... unrelated, I guess? Like I say later, The Lonely Island only produced the movie... they didn't actually write it. Reads like I just wanted to talk about a group I think is funny before being sidetracked into actually doing my job of reviewing the movie. The actual review part of the review is pretty good, however. 

Unsolved Mysteries Season 1 (or 15?) (08.14.20)

 

Everybody loves a good mystery. There is something irresistibly tantalizing about the unknown that drives all discovery as well as an undeniable rush when the answers one is looking for are finally unearthed. Mysteries can also be frustrating, heartbreaking, and disturbing, however, particularly when they go unsolved. I for one like my mysteries in books and television to be tied up in nice little bows at their conclusions because real life’s mysteries are often a bit more complicated. I do it for the escapism; in other words, at the end, Sherlock concludes that the mastermind is Moriarty, Rosebud turns out to be a sled, and the ghost chasing Scooby and the gang is unmasked and happens to be the owner of the decrepit amusement park. Going into Netflix’s first “volume” of Unsolved Mysteries, I therefore had to prepare myself for the fact that these are, well, unsolved mysteries. I for sure wasn’t going to solve them as an audience member, and I would have to be content with the questions without the eventual answers. I’m glad I set this doubt aside, because Unsolved Mysteries turned out to be engaging, if not perfect, television.

The name of the show might be familiar to some: Although marketed as “Vol. 1,” Netflix’s first six episodes of Unsolved Mysteries is actually a continuation of a long-running series that has already had fourteen seasons spread across NBC, CBS, Lifetime, and Spike TV. This time there is no narrator and each episode focuses on a single case, but the legacy is still obvious to those who have seen past seasons. In the case of theme, however, this turned out to be a bit detrimental. Those familiar with past iterations of Unsolved Mysteries can tell you that the show featured a combination of grounded true-crime stories and those that are supernatural in nature. At first, it appears as if the Netflix version has decided to buck the latter and stick with the former, but then the UFO episode starts five hours in and you realize this is not the case. I’m not a fan of the combination, personally; I occasionally enjoy true-crime stories and am an admitted sucker for anything that talks about the possibility of aliens, but putting the two together just didn’t sit right with me. 

Although I had some issues with the organization, preferring that each episode have a stronger hook at the beginning to get my attention instead of just jumping into a backstory with no indication of what the case actually is, Unsolved Mysteries is, overall, not boring and actually enjoyable. Shot in documentary format, each episode includes small reenactments of events (I was worried that they might be silly and overdramatic, but they turned out to be quite understated and respectful) and also does an admirable job of giving the viewer enough info to think they cracked the case before tossing in new information that throws those assumptions out the window. It makes the viewer feel as if they’re discovering the evidence themselves bit by bit, engaging the armchair detective in all of us. As previously stated, I do not expect to “help solve a mystery” as the tagline says, but that’s not the point, is it? We like to be tantalized, and consider me tantalized. 

Unsolved Mysteries Vol. 1 (or season 15, depending on how you look at it) is now available on Netflix.

This review was first published in The Keizertimes on August 14^th, 2020. Visit at http://keizertimes.com/

 

Hindsight: I hate reviewing documentaries. Excited to watch Vol. 2, though, which just came out a few weeks ago.  

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt and Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt: Kimmy vs. the Reverend (08.07.20)

 

“If life seems jolly rotten, there’s something you’ve forgotten; and that’s to laugh and smile and dance and sing!”   

            Hi there, Keizertimes reader. How are you holding in there? I know it’s been a tough week and an even tougher year, 2020 being the veritable potpourri of misfortunes that it is. Did my Monty Python lyrics cheer you up? No? Well, how about another TV review?   

            Wait, no to that as well?   

            Too bad, you’re getting another TV review. It’s the best I can do, and I know that they certainly help me when I’m feeling blue. This goes double for reviews focused on comedic pieces, and, as the Pythons are fond of pointing out, comedy can be found even in the darkest places if we’re willing to look hard enough. When it comes to laughing and looking on the bright side in the face of relentless negativity, one of my personal go-tos is Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, a Netflix original series from the minds of Tina Fey and 30 Rock showrunner Robert Carlock that ended in 2019 only to be followed up by a big interactive finale Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt: Kimmy vs. the Reverend (which is not an episode, but its own movie) in May 2020. Kimmy Schmidt’s story is one of empowerment and positivity and is a great antidote for these tough times, although I must admit that the type of goofy humor presented may not be everyone’s cup of tea.   

            If you are familiar with 30 Rock or Tina Fey’s time on Saturday Night Live, the comedy in Kimmy Schmidt will make you feel right at home. The writing is sharp and the jokes are fast, if occasionally a bit tone deaf (Jane Krakowski, a white woman, plays a Native American and one of Kimmy’s boyfriends, Dong, can come off as a bit of an Asian stereotype at times, for instance). Some episodes in the later seasons can also lag a bit as you become more and more familiar with the beats of the jokes, but overall it is a fantastic series that deals with life’s unpleasant moments with a smile. Ellie Kemper shines as the titular Kimmy, and if Tituss Burgess (who plays her flamboyant but lazy roommate also named Titus, one “s”) doesn’t become one of Hollywood’s new leading comedic superstars I will light myself on fire.   

            The new interactive capstone to the series, Kimmy vs. the Reverend, is a singularly unique experience. As you watch, you will be prompted to make decisions on where the story goes by choosing one of several options on the screen at certain points. Some decisions matter more than others and some lead to dead ends that make you go back and chose the “right” decision, but the results are always hilarious and often meta in the way only Kimmy Schmidt can be. I ended up killing the main characters twice on accident, for instance, and was thoroughly reprimanded both times. The only problem with this format is the fact that you inevitably miss some funny scenes and have to watch the whole thing multiple times to get every result. You also never know when making the “right” decision or the “smart” decision or the “in character” decision is the correct one, but hey, isn’t that how life is? My only advice is to pick the “’splode him” option when it pops up. You won’t regret it.  

            And hey, watch the show too. You won’t regret that either.    

            Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt and Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt: Kimmy vs the Reverend are now available on Netflix.   

 

 

 

This review was first published in The Keizertimes on August 7^th, 2020. Visit at http://keizertimes.com/

 

Hindsight: The intro is a bit long in this one, and I feel like I overexaggerated the tone-deafness, which is not really a problem too often in the show. It’s hard to review an entire series in 500 words… I did much better when I reviewed the entirety of Bojack Horseman.

Hamilton (07.10.20)

 

What is the purpose of a review? To temper or raise expectations? To introduce readers to the themes, characters, and plot points of a piece beforehand? To show that the reviewer is super smart and that people should have been nicer to him in high school? Yes, all of these things, but the preeminent reason is undoubtedly to share whether or not the production is worth your time and money. Hamilton is one of those things that is hard to review because, let's face it... you already know if you're going to watch this or not. Nothing I can possibly say will change your mind one way or another at this point. You might have already watched it, in fact; everyone knows Hamilton, and now it is on Disney+. Instead of wasting everyone's time by adding to the eleven-time Tony Award winner's mountain of rave reviews I will, therefore, focus on the Disney+ version of the eminent musical in particular: Simply put, it is a worthy offering that is also the best possible way to experience the show just short of buying a ticket to pre-Covid-19 Broadway. 

First things first: Hamilton on Disney+ is a professional filming of the stage production, not an adaptation. That being said, the camera work is surprisingly dynamic: There are multiple angles and depths presented, giving the whole experience a slightly more cinematic feel. If one of the characters has a particularly impressive reaction, for example, you can bet that you will get a close-up of that character. This forced focus is useful for someone like me who often gets overwhelmed with the sheer amount of sensory input that comes with watching musicals in person.

I would be remiss, however, if I did not mention that like most musicals, Hamilton is approximately three hours long. This is somewhat remedied by the fact that you can pause the play whenever you want to go pee, but it also might make it a chore to sit through if you watch it with kids (see my nephews Peter and James for an excellent example). That being said, Disney also does an admirable job of cutting out an f-bomb here and there to make the experience a more family friendly PG-13. 

Hamilton on Disney+ is, overall, a slightly more complete experience than the one presented in, say, the official soundtrack. I say "slightly" here because the music and lyrics really make up the bulk of the production; as anyone who is lucky enough to have seen the play in person can tell you, the sets and choreography are purposefully minimalist so they do not distract from the story. This may come as a bit of a surprise to anyone who has heard the soundtrack and imagined elaborate setpieces and complicated dances, but it works. Experiencing Hamilton like this is really the best way to go until the virus restrictions end and we can all go on a field trip to New York together. When that happens, I'm buying. 

Well, not really. 

 

This review was first published in The Keizertimes on July 10th, 2020. Visit at http://keizertimes.com/

 

Hindsight: Somehow this ended up with a few typos when I sent it to the editor, which is something I did not realize until I fed the article back into Word this morning. Hopefully they fixed it before printing it. I also find the transitions between paragraphs a bit choppy in this one and the intro a bit long, not to mention silly ("what is the purpose" intros are so cliché and lame). Furthermore, I don’t know if the “as anyone who is lucky enough to have seen the play in person can tell you” thing is 100% correct, to be honest, as that’s just what my mom told me. She’s smart, though, and I trust her.

(Oh yeah, people were actually pretty nice to me in high school too. I just needed a third thing for the list.)

Artemis Fowl (07.03.20)

 

In 2001, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone launched a prolonged trend of movie studios adapting novels written for kids and the young adult crowd into major motion pictures. For a time it seemed as if every successful book was destined to get its own adaptation, for better (Harry Potter, The Chronicles of Narnia) or for worse (Eragon, Percy Jackson). It was, therefore, always a bit baffling to me that Artemis Fowl, my second favorite childhood series after Harry Potter, never received such attention when it was at the height of its popularity. I remember dream casting a hypothetical Artemis Fowl film with one of my buddies in middle school, and now, almost two decades later, one has finally been set loose on the world. Going into this movie, I tried to have an open mind. The trailers made it look terrible and highly unfaithful to the source material, and the fact that it was originally meant for theatrical release only to be turned into a Disney+ exclusive at the last second did not exactly fill me to the brim with confidence. Sadly, I now find that these initial wary thoughts were blissfully naïve and understated, as Artemis Fowl is a cinematic mess that is sure to please absolutely no one.

            As an adaptation, Artemis Fowl is a train wreck. Awkwardly shoving the first book and about one third of the second book into the same hour-and-a-half while tying them together with a brand new and poorly explained MacGuffin, the movie makes so many changes in plot, character, and tone that it is almost unrecognizable to fans of the original series. Artemis, a criminal mastermind who is also the primary villain of the book, is here turned into a Disney-esque Spy Kid good guy who everyone insists is a genius despite his never doing anything particularly ingenious. Commander Root is now a woman (and played by a very uninterested Judi Dench), Juliet is now twelve, Holly is now white, all the characters are now two-dimensional, up is now down, right is now left, and why this movie is called Artemis Fowl, I have no idea.

            All of this would be somewhat acceptable if it was a good film on its own, but it is not. Flying from plot point to plot point (sometimes literally), Artemis Fowl takes absolutely no time to make the audience understand or care what is going on. There is something about a long-lost weapon with the capability to wipe out all life or something, a plan to capture a fairy because of reasons, and a sudden alliance between the two at-odds protagonists because the (multiple) script writers said so. Artemis Fowl never gave me a reason to invest in its mess of a story, and by the cliffhanger at the end all I could muster was a massive, bemused shake of the head. The only good things I can say about this movie is that Josh Gad (who plays the dwarven thief Mulch Diggums) vaguely amused me a couple of times and that I didn’t have to pay for it because I already subscribe to Disney+.

            It fails for pre-existing fans, it fails for newcomers… just give Artemis Fowl a pass and go watch Harry Potter again or something.

            Artemis Fowl is now available on Disney+.

This review was first published in The Keizertimes on July 3rd, 2020. Visit at http://keizertimes.com/

Hindsight: I don't know why, but I don't think this was a very good review. Maybe I was too casual? Dunno. The movie DID suck, though.