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.