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'Madame Web' briefing

2/14/2024

1 (out of 4)

I don’t see any reason to bury the lead: this is the worst superhero movie I’ve ever seen. In the last year alone we’ve had some truly awful, stinky contenders for the genre’s WOAT in the third Ant-Man and The Marvels, but this just takes the cake no question. I even went back to see how bad Catwoman is and sorry, at least all the other trash has some sliver of panache, especially Marvel comics’ baby step movies like Daredevil — speaking of it was nice to discover the impressively shot and edited Elektra spinoff is entirely underrated, so what if stakes are slim while characters are made room for? Blade: Trinity sucked and was a terrible first draft of Ryan Reynolds’ Deadpool shtick, but at least as an action vampire romp it offered some sleazy satisfaction, fuck even Howard the Duck has ILM making some anthropomorphic miracles happen and a few real laughs (plus admittedly plenty ‘so bad it’s good’ humorous exhalations).

Once you’ve pondered the lowest of the MCU, even when you start taking into account the various other embarrassments around town — Suicide Squad, Dark Phoenix, Fantastic Four (2005 most of all, personally speaking), Amazing Spider-Man 2, Dawn of Justice, Green Lantern, the list goes on and on — I genuinely think this was the most irredeemable, unequivocally pitiful and pointless, dull, detrimental and moreover an insult to escapism. Supers took off in wake of the digital technology making it all possible, and despite a quiet year for the genre outside of Deadpool & Wolverine and a second Joker, 2025 has four MCU features plus James Gunn’s Superman reboot, so the itch will keep on scratchin’ or vice versa for as long as capeshit generally holds up its end of the bargain.

The thing is, even the sloppiest stuff had its moments, an actor that made you care, a shot that interested you, a spectacular concept, fascinating ability, awesome sequence or storytelling decision that justified its existence. Perhaps it’s how much Madame Web fails to measure up to even the lowered standards of the Sony-Spidey legal loophole spin-off universe — Venom is no masterpiece but top of the heap, Morbius is overhated gothic goofiness that still hardly feels like a full motion picture, a lot like the even worse Let There Be Carnage. With the same writers (Matt Sazama and Burk Sharpless) as Morbius and Gods of Egypt's watchable B-movie camp, I figured Web had a chance to be surprisingly slick even in the most superficial fashion. No, even with a premise ripped off from Next (a poor Philip K. Dick sci-fi riff with a poorer Nic Cage wig) and Final Destination, Madame’s ability of near-(fore)sight can’t settle on the setups and payoffs of manipulating the predestined present, and so the only chance at a flutter of an inkling of a thrill is thwarted by indecision and the worst heist movie logic (we can’t show the plan in action if it all works out! Only if something goes wrong!). For as unique as these horror-tinged hybrid movies are, this has no seat next to crud like New Mutants let alone Unbreakable or the first Blade movies.

So yeah, this is the junkiest of junk, the least memorable moment in a wheelhouse that has been blurring by like some vomit-splattered carousel maxing out for some time, so it really takes a certain skillful laziness to be this daft, lifeless, fruitless and not even laughable enough to call it the schlock of the more modest early days of superheroes — Daredevil and Hulk at least were working through new waves of blockbuster attitudes and aesthetics, Evanescence notwithstanding. Madame Web has no style, no grace, nothing that could constitute a trip to the movies where you felt anything other than ripped off. When your villain’s motivation hinges on dream visions depicting superhero ladies that our zoomer supporting cast will one day become — Isabella Merced, Celeste O’Connor, Sydney Sweeney and all with prerequisite personalities (the nerdy one, the mean one, the shy one,) and a punishing dialogue dump to quickly run through their nothing backstories — you know this flick’s agenda consists solely of stringing along the Spidey-simps (holy crap are you future superhero too Emma Roberts, or are you just giving birth to one offscreen?). If only this movie could’ve been saved by midriffs or bearing the male gaze in mind (Sweeney in a schoolgirl outfit is somehow not the most provocative thing here), but beyond sex appeal this movie isn’t doing jack shit with a nearly all-female ensemble. No amount of girl power or female directors (one S. J. Clarkson) can atone for dogshit, same went for The Marvels — you’re not anti-feminist for hating this movie.

Dakota Johnson’s done more reputable work than 50 Shades but this somehow feels even more degrading, like the paycheck must have made you as blind as the end of this movie where you’re Daredevil and Professor X in one — you ain’t no recent Oscar winner like Halle Berry sweetie, you might not recover from so big a misstep. Outside of the Grey notoriety, Madame Web is another embarrassing property to be tied down to, something like if K Stew went from Twilight to Charlie’s Angels, oh wait — all I’m saying is without a few key roles for Johnson in Bad Times at the El Royale and both Luca Guadagnino’s A Bigger Splash and Suspiria, there’d be no reason to say she should know better but damn she should’ve known better. The guy from A Prophet, Tahar Rahim poor fella, I’m sure he wishes there was something better to do with his time.

Even DC was never this embarrassing. Without a post-credits scene (curious since a third Venom and Kraven the Hunter will keep Sony’s sinister dreams alive), still the movies leaves you with stubborn sequel-prospecting: “look what this potential set of character and series COULD BECOME!” Sure, but at no point over the course of the generous 116 minutes did you make that an enticing suggestion — the irony of a superhero story constructed on the idea of limitless futures and pissloads of possibilities is almost NEVER (not since Argylle LMAO) has there been a more embarrassing, disastrous franchise non-starter. Few major motion pictures debut so DOA.

'Argylle' and 'Orion and the Dark' briefings

2/2/2024

Argylle

1 ½ (out of 4)

This antithesis to reinvention for Matthew Vaughn finds the British mischief proving yet again he shouldn’t be so adamant to cement his legacy with tongue-in-cheek spy spoofs — at this rate your movies will be long outlasted in memory by the likes of Charlie’s Angels for Christ’s sake (maybe even the new one, ew!), let alone Austin Powers or even Johnny English, and you’ll deserve it!

Frankly, it was crazy that for three consecutive attempts to follow up the positive reception toward 2015’s Kingsman: The Secret Service, not one has panned out critically, though I’ve never been shy to say I really enjoyed The Golden Circle’s dubious double-down as a direct sequel to an already cuckoo first go-round. But the prequel The King’s Man was much too serious and now, in quite a reactive move it seems, Argylle is all silliness, top to bottom — it’s his worst effort yet, finding his synchronized sincerity and smarm leaning almost exclusively in the direction of that maliciously edgier latter. Flattening fourth walls every other scene doesn’t confirm any kind of cleverness Mr. Vaughn.

Argylle, despite some manner of novelty, drowns in overwhelming preposterousness, unable to surmount the compounding mania and mediocrity even with a passionate, properly curated cast and 140 minutes of naught else but twists on twists on twists — this picture-show pretzel is all knots, which would be OK if there was some genre realignment in motion, action tailored with elaborate, impressive stuntwork like any Kingsman riffs gets to eventually or at least some tickling of the funny bone since it's so freakin' goofy. Argylle isn't inherently unwatchable, but self-aware tripe is still tripe. If it takes five minutes to explain the linchpin reveal, it’s probably not justified it in the least. It’s hard to be subversive in the vein of Kick-Ass when you’re muffled to all the outlandishness a PG-13 rating affords — the revelations and ridiculousness and even the lightly redeeming romance are all dished out in half-measures.

Bryce Dallas Howard (never seeming to top her breakout days in M. Night Shyamalan’s The Village and Lady in the Water) is our unexpected, passively past-resistant protagonist, Bryan Cranston is living out the evil shit as gladly as Catherine Hahn (the respectively duplicitous ma and pa), meanwhile Sofia Boutella has one great scene (still nothing close to the swords-for-legs showdown by the first Kingsman’s end) and Samuel L. Jackson’s reunion with Vaughn loses the lisp without gaining a smidge of character. Then Henry Cavill, as Howard’s in-fiction stand-in, is the closest to 007 fare he’ll get since he comfortably suited up for Guy Ritchie’s fizzy The Man from U.N.C.L.E., though he and his stupid hairline are not at all the protagonist marketing might’ve made you presume. Meanwhile Dua Lipa is momentary sex appeal with about as much screentime as she had in the trailer and finally, as the film’s savior (hardly enough to actually save it), the ensemble’s strongest link is the superb Sam Rockwell who I’d take in any form, any day.

Stardust has a settling sweetness, X-Men: First Class is, to me, one of its genre’s best moments and Vaughn’s finest work seeing as Kick-Ass’s scabby subversion is not my cup of tea — but Argylle is soft, stupid and sure to avoid any actual risk in its irreverence. The real agent Argylle may as well have been the cat, and that CG puss could’ve been this movie’s crutch (like an extended Elton John cameo in Kingsman 2) but rather it’s the movie’s absolutely bargain bin visual effects and glossy greenscreening. Vaughn’s style is symmetrical, sharp and simple — without some convolution cornucopia of a script or a decent set to work with, this is all style minus any aesthetic worth ascertaining. Then you punctuate the bullshit with some post-credits scene tying this to the Kingsman universe... I'm sorry,did you learn nothing from the end of your last film, when you teased Hitler like he was Thanos? NO ONE CARES MATT, no one cares and you should know better. The Kingsman movies felt like enough to hang a franchise on, but we were clearly wrong about that and this would-be quirky paperback sleaze keeps even fewer of its promises, for instance that it would amount to direct, innocent fun. Argylle is taking that extra L much too literally, or should I say Vaughn is.

Orion and the Dark

3 (out of 4)

So I’d say Charlie Kaufman has made light of the loneliness and despondence of any age save for preadolescence — never too late! In what amounts to Dreamworks’ most daring feat in years in spirit and in substance alone comes a meta bedtime story with uncommon philosophical ponderousness and challenging narrative flimsiness rubbing against the grain of modern animation. We haven’t seen the rogue Kaufman screenplay outside of his own hands since, what, Eternal Sunshine? The fact that this is some Dreamworks Animation production is even more troublesome — how many kids are you gonna traumatize just so everyone’s turning their thoughts closer to the void of death? I jest, as for all his morose misery-mucking, few cinematic wordsmiths match his ability to scramble the intellect, needle emotion and elaborate on existence, and the way that this fits into animation’s annals (especially contrast to the mundane stop-motion mind-rape of his co-directed and completely written Anomalisa) is an unanticipated blessing and conundrum.

Unfortunately, though this could curiously almost be mistaken for one of late Pixar’s finest efforts for maturity alone, there are indeed trademark Dreamworks shortcuts. First, most obviously, there's less inspired character design — the run of fantasy sleep characters (even more lightly detailed than the misfits of Inside Out or Rise of the Guardians) is a little too generic but just a product of the cheaper animation, apparently courtesy of the same folks behind the simple thick-lined style of Captain Underpants, which in all respect made the most of the potty-humored, “from the mind of a child” feel. More disappointing is despite Kaufman as sole screenwriter, lines as stock and standard as “hold on to your butts” sneak their way in, so no doubt potential greatness is on a leash. God, the part where Orion becomes a really prejudiced asshole isn't much more than a bland emotional conflict, so if you remove those few clichés that even the most shrewd self-awareness cannot erase or improve upon and beef up the wobbly second act, this would be its own compact masterpiece.

For Kaufman, imposing on kids even more nihilism and heavier profundities on top of the fantasy yarn about overcoming basic phobic obstacles in daily life (or rather, MAKING THE MOVIE BETTER) would’ve just made things more devastating — there are really gracious sentiments regardless of him sucking his own dick a bit since he knows Netflix, Dreamworks or whoever is backing something superior to the usual lowest common denominator fare, something that eagerly ponders nothingness, generational inheritance and fear itself. This really must’ve been some kind of therapeutic comedown following I’m Thinking of Ending Things, seeing as Charlie sidesteps the archetypal animated zaniness to get too real about anxiety in its most innocent sense. See, even though it bows down to a certain cuteness, the voice cast is not overrun in celebrity nonsense and the thematic weight is virtually unparalleled for the brand — yes, this may be up there with the early Shreks, Kung Fu Panda and How to Train Your Dragon, with none of the franchise potential, like back when they made poorly received 2D animated movies that nonetheless undeniably rest among the brand’s surest artistic strokes: Prince of Egypt, Road to El Dorado, Sinbad and of course Aardmann assists like Chicken Run and Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit.

But that unchecked box next to profitability meant an unceremonious Netflix dump (Ending Things too barely came to theaters, understandable in prime pandemic times), and any attempt to sweep this under the rug is lightyears more respectable than how they’re burying the direct-to-streaming Megamind sequel with little returning talent. But to fortify my defensive tone, it’s crazy considering he’s working with about 20 pages that this is just Kaufman riffing, trying to make something out of the grand adventure Orion and Dark are supposed to have in a blink of an eye before the credits roll, eyelids fall and its time for beddy-bye. But for pulling this right out of his ass 95% of the time, Charlie revels in the idea of spinning something for kids that ABSOLUTELY REFUSES to talk down to them even if the ‘story’ has to be solved by your grandson inserting time travel like he’s a Marvel Exec. This is a movie containing profound, productive ideas for the youngest among us, an intellectual commitment amounting to infinitely more than a simple capacity to distract some single-digit snot-nosed whipper snapper — Orion and the Dark sidesteps cringy first person perspective from frame one and breaks down the confines of conventional storytelling before the halfway mark.

“You want me to end it with a dance party?” Kaufman can’t help but make fun of Dreamworks’ formulas while he fashions something much more meaningful out of his rendition. “The stories that make a difference are the ones that are true” pleas the daughter, from outside the frame narrative, to let Orion be scared, and as part of the audience you can’t help but be thankful that someone cares about screenwriting's effect on brain even more than the flashes of color and the whites of wide, sympathetic eyes. Somehow this standalone mini-miracle is worth weighing plenty of 2024’s remaining months against, and is easily the best thing Dreamworks has dished out since the first Dragon, next to Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, maybe.

Cinema Briefing

'Madame Web' briefing

'Argylle' and 'Orion and the Dark' briefings

To keep it brief...

Months in movies

Kino
of the Crop
(A recent selection of
consummate classics)

Cinema Briefing

'Madame Web' briefing

'Argylle' and 'Orion and the Dark' briefings

To keep it brief...

Months in movies

Kinoof the Crop(A recent selection ofconsummate classics)

Kino
of the Crop
(A recent selection of
consummate classics)