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The Batman Reflections (2022)

“The Batman” (2022) is directed by Matt Reeves and stars Robert Pattinson as Batman, Zoe Kravitz as Catwoman, Jeffrey Wright as James Gordon, Andy Serkis as Alfred Pennyworth, and others. The film holds an 86% on Rotten Tomatoes and an 87% audience rating. The Batman has made around $360 million domestically and $750 million globally within a month and a half of its March release. Although it pales in comparison to the domestic or global success of Spider-Man: No Way Home, which grossed nearly two billion dollars globally, audiences still enjoyed this film.

            Even if viewers could assume that this movie would have a good cast, a good director, a good script, and good visuals, there was such a high standard going into this movie. Although it is true that there was not a lot of pressure for the movie to succeed, there was always going to be plenty of critical pressure because of the history of Batman movies. If you have gotten into superhero movies to any significant degree, you must at least have heard about the Dark Knight trilogy by Christopher Nolan. It is so widely praised and lauded that I feel no need to repeat its successes, but even so, the last movie of this trilogy, The Dark Knight Rises, was still the last solo Batman film all the way back in 2012. Since then, Batman has appeared in Batman v Superman as well as in Justice League, neither of which audiences enjoyed, and neither of which are primarily movies about Batman. The only other film that even comes close is Joker from 2019, which only features a Joker origin story and a brief scene with a young Bruce Wayne but nothing more about Batman in that universe. This movie in early 2022 was the first solo Batman film in a decade, and as a result it was always going to be held in comparison to the greatness of the Nolan trilogy, which is a really high bar to live up to.

And boy does it succeed.

            I was blown away by this film. Even at a whopping 2 hours and 56 minutes, I was engaged for almost every second and nearly every shot of this film. If this film was going to avoid a direct comparison to the Dark Knight trilogy, it needed to be entirely unique and distinct from those movies, and that is exactly what the movie chooses to be. Right from the opening scene of the film, viewers get that this film is a well-crafted and uniquely designed artistic experience as well as a compelling narrative. From the very start of the film, the audience is exposed to a dirty, messy, dark, unstable image of someone peering into a family’s home. The visual style of the whole film reflects the character of the city of Gotham by exaggerating the dirtiness, the darkness, and the lack of focus in many shots throughout the story. In this opening scene, the dirtiness and instability of the frame contrasts starkly with the sound of “Ave Maria” and the appearance of a clean home and a happy family inside. The shot unsteadily depicts a young boy in a costume pretending to kill his father and running away, with his father and mother playing along before giving him a proper family greeting. The emotional thrust of nearly the whole movie is captured in this simple shot. Many characters in the story lacked the safety and comfort of a father or mother in their childhoods, and even the characters who did have parents in the home have a dim view or perspective of them. Their memory of that home is tainted by the weight of more serious and pressing concerns, which is how the shakiness and dirtiness of the frame in this shot captures one of the major themes of the story that starts to unfold. Even the music reflects this vagueness about childhood; not only is “Ave Maria” played quietly and feels distant, the whole song creates distance from viewers simply because it is written in another language, Latin. Even still, being a song about seeking help from the mother of Jesus in the midst of despair, “Ave Maria” foreshadows the importance of motherhood in raising good children and good citizens, and thus, the absence of mothers will result in the degradation and corruption of the whole city. Furthermore, this piece is often played or sung at funerals, so over the course of this narrative, it becomes synonymous with death itself.

            As the opening scenes develop, the audience learns that the first night of the film happens to be Halloween. Of course, this is no coincidence. Much of the movie is about death, not just physical death, but spiritual death too, whether it is the death of morality, the deep levels of corruption, or just the death of hope in people’s hearts as they try to get by in Gotham. Halloween itself can be interpreted as a celebration of death. However, it can also be interpreted as a day to mock death and the conspirators of death. Usually, people see it as the latter, and so it is in this film. Batman begins his monologue with his inability to be everywhere at once to stop the masked criminals hiding in plain sight in various Halloween costumes. He reveals much about the state of things in his opening monologue:

Two years of nights have turned me into a nocturnal animal… It’s a big city; I can’t be everywhere, but they don’t know where I am. We have a signal now for when I’m needed, but when that light hits the sky, it’s not just a call; it’s a warning. To them. Fear is a tool. They think I’m hiding in the shadows, but I am the shadows.

From this opening monologue and some powerful visual shots throughout, the audience learns the state of things in Gotham but also the place at which Batman has arrived. He has become a nocturnal animal from seeking to uproot city-wide corruption for two years, which shows how deep the corruption goes, how widespread the moral degradation goes, and how lost Batman has become in pursuing the threads of corruption seemingly to no end. No wonder the film is nearly three hours long; it is no easy task to unmask corruption this deep. The final lines in the monologue reveal Batman’s current identity and character. To him, the light that comes from the bat signal is not a sign of hope for regular citizens but a dark warning to any criminals lurking about at night. The scene illustrates this beautifully by showing various masked criminals looking up at the sky and then peering into the surrounding darkness and showing clear signs of fear and terror as if Batman would walk out of the darkness from anywhere at any moment. Batman is using fear as a tool and has become synonymous with shadows and darkness.

            The score cannot be understated in this scene either, or indeed throughout the film. Giacchino’s score manages to turn Batman and Gotham into a unique personality without sounding optimistic or losing the darkness required for such a serious tale. Although critics might argue that his main theme simply derives from Zimmer’s theme in the Dark Knight trilogy, this perspective gives Giacchino’s score not nearly enough credit. If anything, the haunting nature of much of this score is reminiscent of Chopin’s sonata entitled “Funeral March.” It should not be surprising that the score for this film sound very much like a song meant to be played at a funeral since death is such an important theme and driving force of the narrative. This is true of the opening sequence, especially during Batman’s monologue about Halloween and the bat signal. The haunting and growing tones of the piece exaggerate the anxieties and fears of criminals as they anticipate Batman to walk out of the darkness, and the score adds such an important layer to Batman’s current identity. It is as if the physical embodiment of death lurks in the shadows, as if they feel like dead men walking, as if they sense that their fate is sealed if they persist in their lawlessness, as if any semblance of mercy was killed long ago in the soul of the hooded vigilante.

            The film continues its opening scene by tracking the actions of gang members who find a new target. It becomes clear through simple visual storytelling and nonverbal cues that the youngest or newest member of the gang shows little interest in the gang but feels as if he has no choice but to remain. He may find it impossible to live a normal life safe from the onslaught of crime, or he may find it impossible to leave the gang now that he has affiliated himself with it. The audience never finds out, but with just a few visual cues, the audience wants to side with him and hope that he finds another way out.

            The Batman could not have arrived much later than he did. His entrance from the surrounding darkness and paired with the haunting score sets him up to be a force to be reckoned with. He walks slowly, confidently, menacingly with loud boots and an unflinching stare. The lead member of the gang appears confident in his approach and is bold enough to ask, “Who the hell are you supposed to be?” In response, the Batman responds with ten blows before knocking his opponent to the ground and finishing him off with another two before answering, “I’m vengeance.” Batman’s character has been firmly established in just ten minutes; he has abandoned mercy and sought to rid the city of crime at any cost. He embodies fear, darkness, despair, and suffering. He has a clear path before him, and he has plenty of room to grow and change as a character because the story unfolds how this identity leads him astray and leaves him unfulfilled.

            The Batman has replaced Bruce Wayne, and by extension, the Batman has no soul. Bruce Wayne hardly shows up in the story at all because the Batman has no time for him. The title of the movie naturally suggests that the man behind the mask has allowed a persona to overcome his whole identity and purpose. He is not a hero with a name but “The Batman” as if you would describe the savior of Metropolis as “The Superman” or the fastest man alive as “The Flash.” Those titles sound unnatural and less personal because their names are not titled, but Bruce has made his Batman identity into a title and a persona that he almost never takes off. He often watches the events of the previous night to remind himself what he did because he couldn’t remember. The Batman has taken over his mind, his time, his sleep, and his memory. This is the cost of vengeance by one man at all costs.

            As the story unfolds, which unfortunately I cannot fully recount, Batman must learn what he can from The Penguin in order to uncover the corruption of the city. This forces Batman into a car chase with the Penguin, and the tension builds over the course of the scene. The Batmobile in this case functions more like a tank than a sports car; it takes many hits and ploughs through many obstacles to keep up with the Penguin. The tension is heightened with fiery and vibrant orange hues that visualize the heat and anger embodied in both reckless drivers, and the scene results in an explosion of pure fury and desperation that causes much damage to anything in their vicinity. On top of the angry orange, the score exacerbates the insanity and passion of the chase by occasionally including the Batman’s leitmotif to symbolize his constant presence in the scene. The scene remains personal by choosing camera angles that often set the scene from each character’s perspective, whether that means showing their view of the highway from inside the car or showing a view of the highway low to the ground or simply a closeup of each driver reacting to each obstacle. The obstacles in the chase continue and get increasingly violent, and the desperation and brutality of the scene slowly builds tension and demands a grand finale. The scene builds to an incredible crescendo when the Penguin tries to create a highway collision in order to stop the Batmobile, but right as he celebrates in front of a massive explosion, the Batmobile leaps through the fiery chaos and charges right under his car, flipping it several times before landing on its back. The film shows The Penguin flipping through the air in his car multiple times before crashing heavily, showing the insanity and violence required to hit his car from behind in order to create such force. Who would do such a thing? The Penguin peers out of his broken window to see The Batman approaching, proving that only he would go to such lengths for just one person. Only he would contribute to such violence and chaos to seek vengeance. Only he would lose his soul and put no limits on himself to achieve his ends.

            Of course, it is no coincidence that the Batman is upside down in this moment. The camera captures his view from The Penguin’s perspective, but it has been the way that the Batman has been acting all along. This moment shows most clearly the backwards nature of vigilante vengeance. The upside down shot has been used effectively in before, such as to show the insanity of the Joker’s perspective in the Dark Knight or to show the repugnance to and injustice of Killmonger taking control of Wakanda. However, those films used the upside down shot to highlight the backwards nature and injustice of the villains. In The Batman, the shot highlights the upside down world of the story’s protagonist. It clearly demonstrates that the Batman’s current trajectory is misguided and must be corrected if he is not going to live long enough to see himself become the villain. This perspective on justice must be resolved somehow by the end of the story.

            As an aside, the Penguin gets tied up and interrogated after this scene, and he angrily waddles away at the end of the screen like an actual penguin, which is a hilarious visual gag that brought some levity that definitely helped the pacing of the film.

Even though Batman behaves like the Greek god of war at times, director Matt Reeves reminds the audience that the Batman is still merely a man, and no, he is not invincible and does not have superpowers. When he has to go overboard like he did with the Penguin, it shows, especially in scenes like the funeral scene where Bruce Wayne appears to pay his respects to the mayor who had been assassinated by the Riddler. Bruce looks like a dead man walking in this scene; his face is pale, his body language is fragile and slow, he does not say a word, his posture is poor, and he cannot hide his black eye. This is the natural result of relentless pursuits of vigilante justice in a truly and fully corrupt city. Bruce Wayne’s body and soul are dying. He has a purpose, but he has little comfort or hope in the midst of his endeavors. He may act like an invincible hero, but he cannot overcome the reality of the frailness of simply being a man. If he is to survive, physically and spiritually, he must redirect his purpose in heathier ways without losing his pursuit of justice.

            This scene illustrates the power of visual storytelling and sound design that Matt Reeves has crafted so masterfully throughout this film. Bruce Wayne does not have to convince the audience that he is not doing well or feeling strong because we are shown everything we need to know through his body language and expressions. The score incorporates “Ave Maria” sung by a choir while showing Bruce trudge his way through the building to give the audience a sense of momentary peace and tranquility as a necessary break from the intense action of previous scenes. Bruce is pulled aside by the new candidate for governor of Gotham who begs him for financial support, but he hardly pays attention to her. Instead, his focus turns to the little boy who just lost his father, and once again their exchange of eye contact allows the audience to infer lots of emotion better than any dialogue would have done. Furthermore, the choir is more visible, and it turns out that they have been singing Ave Maria this entire time, once again illustrating the smooth transitions in sound design. Of course, the choir does not get to sing for long as the beauty and tranquility of the choir fades away as the crowd gets distracted and concerned by the much less natural sounds of a car burning rubber just outside. Bruce takes another look at the little boy before looking up to see a man standing still while everyone screams and flees in terror at an oncoming vehicle, and Bruce sprints to protect the boy from the car careening right through the building. The scene continues with a hostage situation asking for the Batman, but the scene deserves praise for creating tension so effectively and demonstrating the power of visual storytelling and sound design to push the characters and story forward.

            The Riddler briefly appeared at that funeral, so it is no surprise that he begins to make a larger impact in the narrative from this point on, especially on Bruce Wayne’s faith in the good of his own father. The Riddler makes an appearance on a TV program to explain the dirty laundry of the Wayne family. His life’s work almost entirely revolves around his ability to expose the city-wide corruption of the elite class, which in this case includes the Wayne family. He claims that as Thomas Wayne was running for mayor, his wife needed serious mental help and support, but he wanted to cover this up for the sake of his campaign. However, when a reporter started to investigate into this family matter, Thomas Wayne supposedly ordered Falcone to have this reporter murdered in order to preserve the integrity of his campaign. This news deeply affects Bruce Wayne as a man who believed in his father’s goodness and his message of renewal and hope for Gotham, a message that he has attempted to carry out as a vigilante but is failing to achieve. At this point, Bruce out of desperation and anger asks to see Falcone face to face to see if this is true. He goes not as Batman, but as a weak-looking, slouching, desperate, sorrowful son who just wants to know his own father.

            The setting and style of this brief scene continues to showcase the power of visual storytelling. The camera follows Bruce’s slow, melancholy, doubtful walk across a long hallway before showing Falcone playing pool with colleagues. The filmography highlights Bruce’s hazy uneasiness with fairly low lighting, by blurring out the edges and sides of every shot, and by including shots where Bruce stands alone in the center of a shot to show his isolation and uncertainty. Falcone notices Bruce and ushers his colleagues out of the room to speak with Bruce. He does not hide his involvement with Bruce’s father. He openly tells Bruce that his father did ask the reporter to be murdered. He says that Thomas asked him to take care of it, so he did. He continues by saying that Bruce probably wished that his father was a boy scout but warns him that he would be surprised by what a good man could be capable of. Even though he walks away with his life, Bruce is devastated, lost, confused, and nearly hopeless. His last resort lies with the only person he can trust who also knew his father: Alfred. However, Bruce was almost too late to see Alfred again thanks to the Riddler’s schemes.

            As the investigation into the Riddler continues, the Batman and Commissioner Gordon discover a clue that suggests that the sins of Wayne will be visited upon his son because of the empty promises he made as a supposed leader and protector of Gotham. Of course, the Batman knows that this means if he is not at the Wayne residence, whoever is there could take his place, and he realizes that Alfred could unknowingly be in mortal danger. He takes off in the Batmobile at top speed and calls the residence as soon as possible to warn Alfred, and here the sound design once again showcases the mastery of Matt Reeve’s sound design choices in order to create serious tension. As Bruce makes the phone call while driving like a madman, the audience can hear the phone ringing as Alfred listens to more peaceful choral pieces while opening the mail. Again, the peaceful serenity of Alfred’s current task contrasts sharply and wonderfully with the knowledge that his life could be lost at any moment. The sound of the phone ringing continues sharply, almost like an alarm, as Alfred notices a particular piece of mail entitled “For Bruce Wayne’s Eyes Only,” which he opens, all the while the ringing continues. From the audience’s perspective, if they can hear the phone ringing, surely Alfred could hear it too, right? Why won’t he answer the phone before opening this mail?

            Little does the audience know that the director has overlaid two events on top of each other, using the visuals of the past with the sounds of the present. Because the audience hears the phone ringing while they watch Alfred opening mail, they assume that the phone is ringing in the room at the same time that Alfred is seen opening mail, and they assume that he can hear it too but is choosing to ignore it. The reality of the situation is revealed when Bruce’s call is finally answered after the audience hears the phone ring a full eleven times. When Bruce asks to speak to Alfred and says “something terrible is gonna happen,” the response from the maid is “I’m afraid it already has, sir.” Bruce looks up at Wayne Tower and sees smoke rising from the higher floors, and the audience finally understands that the ringing was literally all in our heads, not in Alfred’s. It is, for lack of a better word, brilliant. The Batman assumed that he was only a few minutes away from saving Alfred; he was actually an hour late. This realization is such a gut-punch to Bruce’s resolve and is a painful recognition that he cannot play God and be everywhere at once, much less keep everyone safe. He is only a man, and he must accept that if he is ever going to make positive change in such a corrupt city.

            In a fortunate turn of events, Alfred survives. Bruce learns that the attack was meant for him with a message from the Riddler from a card that simply said “see you in hell.” Bruce visits Alfred as he recovers in a hospital bed, and thankfully he is well enough to think and speak clearly. Bruce has to learn who his father really was, so he takes the next chance he gets and asks Alfred directly what he knows, which leads to a conversation with a subtle reveal and some of the most vulnerable and touching character moments in recent memory:

(Bruce) “He told me.”

“He told you Salvator Maroni-”

“had my father killed. Why didn’t you tell me all of this? All these years I’ve spent fighting for him, believing he was a good man.”

“He was a good man. You listen to me. Your father was a good man. He made a mistake.”

“A mistake? He had a man killed. Why? To protect his family image? To protect his political aspirations?”

“It wasn’t to protect the family image because he didn’t have anyone killed. He was protecting your mother. He didn’t care about his image or the campaign, any of that. He cared about her and you, and in a moment of weakness he turned to Falcone, but he never thought Falcone would kill that man. Your father should have known that Falcone would do anything to finally have something on him that he could use. That’s who Falcone is. And that was your father’s mistake. When Falcone told him what he did, your father was distraught. He told Falcone that he was going to the police, that he would confess everything, and that night, your father and your mother were killed.”

“It was Falcone?”

“Oh I wish I knew for sure. Or maybe it was some random thug on the street who needed money, got scared, and pulled the trigger too fast. If you don’t think I’ve spent every day searching for that answer… It was my job to protect them. Do you understand? I know you always blamed yourself, but you were only a boy, Bruce. I could see the fear in your eyes, but I didn’t know how to help. I could teach you how to fight, but I wasn’t equipped to take care of you. You needed a father. And all you had was me. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Alfred. God, I never thought I’d feel fear like that again. I thought I’d mastered all that. I mean, I’m not afraid to die. I realize now there’s something I haven’t got past. This fear… of ever going through any of that again… of losing somebody I care about.”

If you can’t find the beauty in that dialogue, I can’t help you. It’s all there: the frustration Bruce feels for being forced to assume his father was an evil man, the reveal that Thomas Wayne never wanted anyone to be murdered, the frustration Alfred feels for failing his job as the protector of the family, the understanding that the only way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost. This scene is a tender, vulnerable, touching, memorable moment for both characters, and only the bat symbol itself flying high in the sky could separate these two men from resting in each other’s burdens. So naturally, the symbol appears, and a transformed Bruce Wayne dons the mask once more to fight for his city.

            The Batman arrives at the base of the building where the bat signal comes from, and he sees Commissioner Gordon waiting for him. They both thought the other person put the signal up, so they confusedly go to the signal to see who turned it on. On the roof, we see Catwoman torturing one of Falcone’s henchmen and threatening to kill him. She shows Gordon and the Batman an audio file of Falcone strangling her roommate and admitting that he strangled Catwoman’s mother, and she wants help getting revenge. However, the Batman is not the same as he was. He is not the epitome of darkness and vengeance that he used to be. He has begun his transformation into a new man with renewed purpose. He knows by now that vengeance has gotten him nowhere closer to restoring Gotham to peace and rest. He tells Catwoman that revenge is not the answer, but she rejects him and takes off to avenger her roommate and mother alone. The Batman has to stop her because she is in the wrong, because he is the key to capturing the Riddler, and because chaos will ensue if she succeeds. In a way, Catwoman’s relentless pursuit of vengeance against Falcone mirrors the Riddler’s relentless pursuit of vengeance against all of Gotham for abandoning and rejecting him, and each of their destructive habits and bloodthirsty tendencies can be easily traced back to the absence of a good father or mother figure in their lives. The Batman can relate to their struggles but must face the consequences for Catwoman as well as the Riddler if he or Gotham is going to survive.

            Catwoman and the Batman spend a portion of the final act chasing down her father, Falcone, and while one wants to murder him, the other wants to prevent any further bloodshed. Tensions are high as Catwoman goes in blind and wastes little time finding Falcone and getting straight to the point of her quest for revenge for the death of her mother at his hands. The Batman fights through guards in darkness in another beautifully shot action scene before catching up to the action shortly before Catwoman can kill her father. After wrestling off his henchmen, Catwoman tries to find Falcone to finish him off, but he finds a loose lead pipe to slap her to the ground, where he begins to choke her to death. As he does this, he says “You don’t think this hurts me? My own flesh and blood,” to which she manages to claw at his face with her long nails. Although this forces him to drop the pipe, he pins her down again and begins to choke her by his very hands, saying “you made me do this, just like your mother.” Talk about a broken father figure. This is as bad as it gets; it harkens back to the first ever recorded murder in human history, where Cain kills his own brother Abel, and he casually remarks that he is not his brother’s keeper when God himself asks him what he had done. Falcone is similarly flippant in his tone of voice, his words, and his actions when attempting to kill his own daughter. It is no wonder that Catwoman is driven to bloody vengeance against him, but it is no less wrong. The Batman pulls Falcone off his daughter and punches him hard to knock him down for good, to which Catwoman jumps up and instantly points her gun right back at Falcone to deal a final blow. Once again, talk about a messed up family. If either of them kills the other, the Batman will have failed his mission to save the people of Gotham by restoring their souls, not just by stopping crime or corruption. They share a final exchange as he holds her back and nearly embraces her as if to console her:

“He has to pay!”

“You don’t have to pay with him; you’ve paid enough.”

Seeking revenge doesn’t free you; it just enslaves you further. No man knows this better than the Batman himself. His arc has nearly come full circle; he was vengeance and darkness, but now he is a watchful protector, and he will soon embrace the light. He has returned to the hero who inflicts fear in those who would create the kind of trauma that he himself experienced. He wants nobody to experience trauma like he did, so he will do what he must to keep families alive at the very least.

            The Batman arrests Falcone and finally brings the rat out into the light. However, as soon as this happens, Falcone is shot from an adjacent building by a lone sniper. He was brought under a flashing streetlight that was seen multiple times over the course of the film and becomes the target for the sniper. The police quickly find the apartment from which the sniper fired and discover the Riddler’s hideout. They also find the Riddler calmly sitting in a bar and quickly arrest him. As they scour the apartment, the room suggests that the Riddler truly wanted to expose Gotham’s corruption, that he is planning something more, and most importantly, that he knows that Batman is Bruce Wayne. He has hints all around the room with the two next to each other and a cryptic message, “I know the real you.” The Batman assumes this all means that he is the final target; by exposing his identity as Bruce Wayne, the Batman would lose all his resources and truly have to stop being the Batman. This is why he says maybe this is the end of the Batman. His life is truly on the line. When he hears that the Riddler wants to have a discussion with him, he has to assume that his identity and life is on the line. He must either convince the Riddler that he is wrong somehow, avoid the topic altogether, or accept his fate as a failure of a protector of his city. It all comes down to a conversation with a man with the softest face but the darkest schemes.

(Riddler) I told you I’d see you in hell.

(the Batman) What do you want from me?

Want? If only you know how long I’ve been waiting for this day. For this moment. I’ve been invisible my whole life. I guess I won’t be anymore will I? They’ll remember me now. They’ll remember both of us. Bruce… Wayne… Bruuuuuce… Waaaayyyne… *sigh* … you know I was there that day, the day the great Thomas Wayne announced he was running for mayor, made all those promises. Well, a week later he was dead, and everybody just forgot about us. All they could talk about was Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne the orphan. Orphan… living in some tower over the park isn’t being an orphan. Looking down on everyone with all that money, don’t you tell me. Do you know what being an orphan is? It’s 30 kids to a room, 12 years old and already a drop-head, numbing the pain. You wake up screaming with rats chewing your fingers and every winter one of the babies dies because it’s so cold. But oh no… let’s talk about the billionaire with the lying, dead daddy because at least the money makes it go down easy, doesn’t it? Bruuuce Wayne. He’s the only one we didn’t get. But we got the rest of them, didn’t we? All those slick, sleazy phony pricks. God, look at you. Your mask is amazing. I wish you could’ve seen me in mine. Isn’t it funny? All anyone wants to do is unmask you, but they’re missing the point. You and I both know, I’m looking at the real you right now. My mask allowed me to be my real self completely, no shame, no limits.

Why did you write me?

What do you mean?

All those cards.

I told you. We’ve been doing this together. You’re a part of this.

We didn’t do anything together.

We did! What did we just do? I asked you to bring him into the light, and you did. We’re such a good team.

We’re not a team.

I never could have gotten him out of there. I’m not physical, my strength is up here. I mean, I had all the pieces, I had the answers, but I didn’t know how to make them listen. You gave me that.

I gave you nothing.

You showed me what was possible. You showed me all it takes is fear and a little focused violence. You inspired me.

You’re out of your goddam mind.

What?

This is all in your head. You’re sick, twisted.

How can you say that?

You think you’ll be remembered? You’re a pathetic psychopath, begging for attention-

No.

-You’re gonna die alone in Arkham. A nobody!

No no no!!! This was not how this was supposed to go. Ahhhhhhhhhh I had it all planned out! We were gonna be safe here! We could watch the whole thing together!

Watch what?

Everything!

It was all there. You mean, you didn’t figure it out? *gasp* … Oh you’re really not as smart as I thought you were. I guess I gave you too much credit.

What have you done?

What’s black and blue and dead all over? You. If you think you can stop what’s coming

What have you done?

Ave Mariiiiiia

What have you done?! What have you done?!

Mariiiiaa gratia pleeeenaaaaa

            This scene is written so well for too many reasons to record, but the context for this conversation creates most of the tension at the start of this conversation. While the Batman goes into this assuming that he is risking his true identity as Bruce Wayne to be exposed and may need to convince the Riddler not to do so, the Riddler sees the Batman not as an enemy but as his partner helping him through every scheme he has planned since the beginning. This is why the Batman starts off coldly with “what do you want from me?” to which the Riddler says that he has been waiting a long time for this day because he is truly excited to meet his partner face to face for the first time. In fact, the Riddler thinks that the Batman shares his goal of exposing the corruption of Gotham, which is mostly true, as well as the corruption of the Wayne family, which obviously the Batman totally rejects. Because these characters have polar opposite expectations for the way this conversation will go, their attitudes and mannerisms differ drastically at the start.

            Since the Batman knows that his identity is on the line, he wants to avoid any discussion of Bruce Wayne, if possible, but the Riddler makes that almost instantly impossible. As he reminisces on his accomplishes with the Batman, supposedly his new best friend, he transitions to slowly speaking the name of Bruce Wayne several times. You can tell from the Batman’s body language that every mention of that name threatens any hope of survival for him. Furthermore, he must think it is not possible to distract the Riddler from that name. While the Riddler is just enjoying the moment to the fullest, the Batman is threatened by it more than anything else he has faced. The tension intensifies when the Riddler starts to explain in full detail his hatred of Bruce Wayne and the Wayne family at large. He details the hypocrisy of Gotham worrying about a billionaire orphan while totally abandoning the city’s own poorest orphans without any consideration or support. With every sentence, the Batman looks more defeated. He glances nervously at the camera recording their conversation, begins to slouch, refuses to look the Riddler in the eye, and keeps his focus on the floor like his fate is surely sealed. He hears his name once more and surely must think the truth will come out any second. Instead, the Riddler says something totally remarkable, “he’s the only one we didn’t get.”

            Hope is restored. The Batman finally looks up at the Riddler when he hears this line. He realizes the most crucial information of all: the Riddler doesn’t know who he is. He thought this whole time that they were working together and just happened to fail to kill Bruce Wayne, but they had successfully killed off everyone else who was corrupting the elite class in Gotham. He hated Bruce because he was an orphan, but he had no idea that he was the Batman this whole time, and he still doesn’t know. He goes on to say that he is “looking at the real you” by seeing the Batman in his mask. The irony could hardly be stronger. Everything in this conversation changes once the Batman learns that the Riddler is actually clueless of his identity because now the Batman has nothing to lose. He can finally take the initiative in the conversation and get to the bottom of what the Riddler’s final step in his plan is.

            The Batman pushes the Riddler to see what he is really up to, and he finally learns that they are not in fact partners at all. The Riddler thinks that because he asked the Batman to bring the rat into the light that his compliance means that they are “such a good team.” The Batman finally pushes back against this idea directly by flat-out rejecting that they are partners at all. The Riddler protests and tries to defend himself by explaining that just a little fear and focused violence can do wonders. He thinks that the Batman would totally agree with this sentiment, and perhaps the Batman at the start of this story would agree, but not this Batman. Not anymore. He is finally choosing to move on from fully uniting himself with fear, darkness, violence, and vengeance. He is about to transform into a symbol and a person who can represent more than that. He tells Riddler that he’s out of his mind, to which the Riddler finally breaks. He is astonished, shocked, and overwhelmed by the idea that the Batman would totally reject him. The conversation devolves from there and ends with the Riddler singing “Ave Maria” to tease and torment the Batman before the final act begins. Since this song is often sung at funerals and is played in eery and creepy ways throughout the film, for all intents and purposes, “Ave Maria” is the song of death that spells doom and destruction for the people of Gotham.

            The dialogue and the physical performances from Robert Pattinson and Paul Dano fill the screen and command the attention of the audience in this interrogation scene. It mirrors the Dark Knight interrogation scene between Batman and the Joker in all the right ways. The conversation between these two shows how even this transformed Batman has yet to complete his transformation as a character. The whole scene slowly unveils that the Riddler doesn’t actually know that Bruce Wayne is Batman, and when you go back and pay attention to what the Riddler says with that in mind, he sees that the Batman has embraced darkness so thoroughly for so long that the Riddler thinks he is an actual villain who is willing to work with him side by side. In fact, the Riddler thinks that they have been partners this entire time up until this conversation. The Batman learns his final lesson before completing his transformation as a character here: his purpose as the protector of Gotham is not to be the vehicle of vengeance against every criminal but to protect and serve the people of Gotham, so his targets will change from chasing down every corrupt elite to saving the actual people of his city. This will also affect his relationship with fear; it may be a useful tool, but it can also enslave his soul if left unchecked, and he must keep most of his attention on saving the people of the city he must protect.

            The Batman returns to the Riddler’s apartment to find out what he missed. It turns out that the cop who finds him there notices that the murder weapon is a carpet tool, which is not exactly a groundbreaking reveal. Even so, the Batman missing this detail illustrates his inability to think clearly and view tools outside of criminal purposes because he has been on this neverending quest to carry vengeance out on every criminal and corrupt politician in the city. This detail furthers that he has lost his humanity, and it will take some time and work before he regains it.

            The carpet tool helps the Batman remove the carpet and unveil the final step in the Riddler’s plans for Gotham city. It turns out that while the Joker from the Dark Knight wanted to watch the world burn, the Riddler here wants to watch the world drown. He has assembled a small army of disenchanted, vengeful, fringe terrorists to place explosives around the city in order to sever the structural integrity on the governor’s election night as their way of bringing vengeance upon the city that abandoned them. By now, it is too late to stop it. In fact, while the Batman and the lone cop watch the video of Riddler explaining what will happen on election night, the bombs already start going off, and once again the sound design masterfully packs a punch when this happens. Not only does the score ramp up a horrifying and eery orchestral arrangement of “Ave Maria,” the film cuts to the Riddler watching the explosion from his cell. As they go off, although you cannot hear him, you can see him yelling “BOOM” every time another explosive is released high into the night sky. The Riddler is not just a calculating mastermind who knows the exact moment of every explosion and every detail in his plans, he also revels in the suffering of others with no sympathy for them whatsoever. Just when you think it can’t get any worse, we see the chaos in the streets and eventually track the crowd who was about to congratulate the new governor’s victory in the election. From there, we see the army of terrorists fully decked out in military-level combat gear and rifles, ready to wreak havoc on the unsuspecting citizens below them. Gotham is going through a natural disaster and a terrorist attack on the same night. It is a dark day indeed.

            The mayor-elect tries to settle the crowd, but she did not see the terrorist snipers above her waiting for her to come into the light, and she is shot. Commissioner Gordon pulls her away to safety, but by then the firing has started and does not seem to be stopping anytime soon. However, the glass ceiling shatters in a fiery wave, and the Batman crashes down from the skies. He is needed more than ever at this moment, and if he loses, hope is surely lost for Gotham.

            His entrance is absolutely sick by the way.

            Although his entrance leaves little more to be desired, the action itself is not glamorous or epic. It is physical, painful, brutal, exhausting, difficult. The Batman is limited in that he is not superhuman; he must rely on his brute strength and occasionally a tool or some intelligence in order to defeat his opponents. Here, though, his opponents all have shotguns, and when they don’t miss, they hit hard, even with the heavy armor the Batman protects himself with. He is going up against a whole battalion all on his own, and he struggles to keep fighting at multiple points. He is hit multiple times with heavy hits from the rifles. He is dragged across the scaffolding near the edge before fighting his way off them. The scaffolding gives way, and he has to cling to the edge with one hand while avoiding and even taking more crossfire. Surely, he can’t do this forever, at least not alone.

            Sure enough, Commissioner Gordon and Selina Kyle start to make their way up to the action, but the Batman has to hold his own a bit longer before they can offer their support. He uses gas to blind the final group of terrorists and manages to use a rifle as a staff to disarm and knock out many of the rest of them. He casually walks up to the last soldier nearby only to get shot with a heavy rifle that sends him flying and nearly sends him down into the waters below. He clings on with one hand for dear life as he stares back at the man as he slowly reloads and takes aim at his head, only for Selina Kyle to jump onto him and knock him aside. She pulls the Batman up to safety, and he slowly closes his eyes in exhaustion as she tells him to relax because it’s over. It’s almost as if her musical theme becomes a lullaby that starts to lull him to sleep for a moment. Unfortunately, that moment is cut short by the soldier returning to attack Selina. Once again, the sound design here is excellent. The Batman gives himself a testosterone boost to stop the last attacker from killing Catwoman. The scream reverberates and fades as most of the sound completely cuts away while he starts pummeling this guy a dozen times before Gordon stops him. Gordon asks the final soldier, “Who the hell are you?” He answers, “Me? I’m vengeance.” The Batman’s theme as the camera pushes into the face of the Batman, and we see his look of horror. Even now, at the very end of the story, the Batman still has a strong association with violent, aggressive, fatal vengeance that he must correct if his soul and the soul of Gotham can ever be restored. He must find a way to prove to Gotham that he can be a symbol of more than that.

            Lo and behold, the scene’s final moments present the Batman with such an opportunity. The higher level is overwhelmed with another surge of waters that drown parts of the scaffolding and sever an electrical grid, creating a dangerous cord that starts to dangle dangerously over the people in the water, threatening to electrocute them all at any moment. The cord needs to be cut for them to be safe. The Batman wastes no time to swing his way over to the cord, take hold of it, and pull out his bat knife. The sound cuts his final roar as he slices the cord in his final act of aggression, sending a shock through his body and dropping him into the waters below. One could almost say he goes through a literal baptism in this moment. His whole journey as a character in this city is summarized by his transition from physical brutality, vigilance, and vengeance to his rebirth as a symbol of light, guidance, restoration, humanity, and hope. Once he emerges from the waters, he immediately directs his attention to the people of Gotham who are almost completely submerged by the flooding, and although it isn’t glamorous, he lights a flare, moves some rubble, and leads the people of Gotham out of the ruins and out of the waters into the light and into freedom. He is not a symbol of fear, nor is he synonymous with darkness. He learns to serve the people directly and earns their trust by suffering alongside them and leading them out of their troubles.

            Critics of this ending of the story argue that the Batman has actually totally rejected his pursuit of criminals, his detective work, and his pursuit of stopping crime in order to become a symbol of hope, much like Superman. They would argue that there is no difference between Batman and Superman at the end of this story. I do not find this persuasive. The Batman does not dawn a smile and a back-slapping positive attitude in order to cheer up citizens who have experienced legitimately traumatic events. The Batman has no superhuman abilities and never presents himself as if he does in this narrative. He simply shifts his perspective on Gotham by realizing that he and Gotham will lose their souls if he tries to fix the human condition. He is not the savior of mankind. However, he can protect, guide, and inspire the people of his city to choose to stand tall in the face of adversity, aggression, and fear because of his example. He leads Gotham not as a naïvely positive idealist, but as a man marked by tragedy and trauma who even still chooses to fight evil, pursue justice, and protect innocence. That is the mark of a hero willing to sacrifice himself for the good of his people.

            The score really establishes what the mood of this finale should be and what kind of message is being conveyed. The Batman’s theme in these closing moments feels somber, heavy, and tragic but also rich, warm, and ever so slightly hopeful. Even as the lights of a cop car flash across the water as the vehicle crashes further down into rubble, symbolizing the chaos that Gotham cannot contain, the Batman wades into the rubble to shoulder the weight of that chaos for the people of Gotham. The people are almost literally underwater, and the Batman perseveres and chooses to do good nonetheless. The score heightens the emotional richness of this moment beautifully. The score in general stands out because it rarely feels like the score is telling the audience what they should feel as if they need instructions because the situation is unclear. The score simply excels at heightening various appropriate emotional responses to several scenes, which gives an extra layer of depth to the story and to the whole experience.

            From here, the film’s epilogue begins with narration from the Batman once again, mirroring the very start of the film and showing how far he has come. His monologue is split up by encouragement from Gotham’s new governor as seen below:

The city is underwater. The national guard is coming. Martial law is in effect, but the criminal element never sleeps. Looting and lawlessness will be rampant in the parts of the city no one can get to. I can already see things will get worse before they get better. And some will seize the chance to grab everything they can…

We will rebuild. But not just our city. We must rebuild people’s faith… in our institutions… in our elected officials… in each other. Together we will learn to believe in Gotham again.

… I’m starting to see now. I have had an effect here, but not the one I intended. Vengeance won’t change the past, mine, or anyone else’s. I have to become more. People need hope, to know someone’s out there for them. The city is angry, scarred like me. Our scars can destroy us, even after the physical wounds have healed, but if we survive them, they can transform us. They can give us the power to endure and the strength to fight.

The Batman has grown from a nocturnal animal who saw fear as a tool just as the Riddler did and who fully identified himself with darkness to a human person with a soul and a connection to the wellbeing of the real people of his city. He used to call himself vengeance itself, which ought to be reserved for God alone; he has abandoned that label to choose to sacrifice himself and humbly serve the people of Gotham. He is not the full embodiment of hope, but he can still inspire hope simply by giving of himself for the safety and benefit of his people. He sees that the city is angry and scarred, but just as he transformed through his scars, he is given renewed purpose by looking to see Gotham transform in and through their trauma and scars as well. He is not going to be the singular fighting force of the city; he wants the city itself to gain the power to endure and to have the strength to fight. He wants true renewal for Gotham, just as the governor wants the people to renew their faith in their elected officials as well as in each other. The city cannot be changed by the pursuits of one venge-seeking vigilante; it can only change within the hearts of good men and women willing to start that change.

            Even though the Batman has completed this transformative journey, Catwoman has not joined him on that path. Bruce tries to convince her to stay with him in Gotham before she flees to escape the relentless toil and chaos that would inevitably follow. Selina opens with the following:

You asking me to stay? You know this place is never gonna change. With Carmine gone, it’s only gonna get worse for you. There’s gonna be a power grab. It’ll be bloody.

I know… but the city can change.

It won’t.

I have to try.

It’s gonna kill you eventually, you know that. Listen, why don’t you come with me, get in some trouble, knock off some CEO hedge fund types? It’ll be fun. The Bat and the Cat. It’s got a nice ring. *the bat signal appears in the sky* … who am I kidding? You’re already spoken for. You should go.

Selina… take care of yourself.

Catwoman understandably wants out of this city given what she had to endure already, but the Batman chooses to stay even though he has suffered much too. He knows that he can be more than he was. He has just been given renewed purpose not as a god-like vehicle of cosmic vengeance but as a symbol of order, justice, and a little hope. He knows that the city wouldn’t survive without him, and he may die trying, but he can think of no greater purpose than to give of himself to save those who are innocent. Even if it means preventing one child from experiencing the trauma he experienced, all his toil and suffering would be worth it. Selina Kyle doesn’t see it that way, and Bruce can’t force her to change. He just tells her to take care of herself in case one day she begins to understand what he has learned. Perhaps she does know in a way. After all, she knows that he is already spoken for. She sees that he seeks to live up to his duty to be the symbol Gotham needs him to be, and maybe one day she will join that fight. Just not yet.

            The Batman and Catwoman ride their motorcycles to the edge of the city and go their separate ways. The theme once again really elevates the complexity of emotions involved in this final exchange of these two. The final two shots stand out as well. First, after they have parted ways, we see a shot of Bruce looking at Catwoman riding over the hill in the rain in his rear-view mirror. It’s a perfectly imperfect and memorable image for saying goodbye to someone who influenced and challenged Bruce in many ways. Once she is out of sight, we cut back to a close-up of the Batman looking forward again to head towards Gotham city. He knows a long journey is ahead, but he doesn’t shy away from it. He goes at it in full force with no fear. The score builds and ends in a loud flourish just as we cut to black. That shot shows that there is much for the Batman to do, but he will have a more mature and balanced approach to restoring the soul of his city. Once he changed himself, he more fully realized the value of humble service, persistence, dedication, and hope. The Batman has arrived.

            As the credits roll and the beautiful score plays once more, you realize that this film took artistic risks visually and aurally as well as narratively. This was far from a safe film or a cash-grab. This film was a metaphorical love letter to the Batman and to every fan of the character. It understood the complexity of his character as a man being asked to bear the weight of a corrupt city. It appreciated the detective work required for the Batman to succeed in stopping crime. It understood the danger of pursuing vengeance above all else. It explored the damage that traumatic experiences can do to a person’s soul. It illustrated the danger of permitting corruption in the elite class to persist without just punishments. Beyond telling an excellent story about the Batman, it also had plenty of valuable and thoughtful social commentary to provide. It showed the dangers of abandoning the vulnerable and ignoring the people on the fringes. It commented on the dangers of the Internet’s ability to create sub-groups of fringe individuals who can organize and more easily commit crimes with little to no oversight. It displayed the tragedy of the breakdown of the nuclear family and connected that to the degradation of society. It showed the power, value, and importance of persistence, humility, service, and hope in the midst of public failures and tragedies. It was a story with rich themes, complex but meaningful storytelling, imperfect but beautiful visuals, and varied but memorable and powerful music. I hesitate to call it a complicated masterpiece if only because that doesn’t sound positive enough. I do have issues with the pacing, and it is long, and it was not necessarily easy to follow, but that was partly by design, and I have so much more praise for it than I have criticism of it. I am afraid I have run out of new words to describe it. It really is a complicated masterpiece.

Gris (2018)

Today, I want to talk about my experience with Gris and explain why I love it so much. Not only do I love the platforming gameplay as well as the visual style, the ending of the narrative has profound spiritual implications, and I couldn’t help but see Christian-like storytelling within.

First of all, if you have never heard of Gris or played Gris, I highly recommend looking it up and playing it yourself. It is short but immersive, artistically beautiful, and genuinely satisfying to play, especially if you are a fan of platforming games. Please play it yourself and don’t let me spoil it for you because I will talk about the game’s ending in depth.

Spoilers below. 
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Let’s talk about the structure of the game’s story and the ending. Throughout the game, you collect stars to creates bridges to help you advance further into each world. Once you complete each of the five worlds, you receive an achievement that says “a new color has been brought back,” revealing that the next world will introduce a new color into the world’s design. This fits well with the game’s title, “Gris,” which is French for “gray.” Thus, the game is about starting without color and bringing color back through memory. Once you completely the game, you unlock access to the secret ending, a brief cutscene of a memory of you and your mother playing with fireflies under the stars. This genuinely touching moment taps into the power of memory. 

In fact, the entire game is based around memory. You learn through the 5 stages of grief achievements and through recovering colors that you are reaching into your own memory and dealing with the loss of your mother. Suddenly, playing the game a second time makes the story that much more impactful. The opening sequence is an artistic expression of a loss of self as a consequence of the death of a loved one. Losing someone close to you creates a feeling of Gris, of gray, of lifelessness, of pain, of uncertainty. The journey of the entire game, thus, becomes about recovery: recovery from grief, recovery of memories, recovery of feelings, recovery of life, recovery of hope. 

Here is where the game’s final cutscene really impacts me: I interpret it as comparable to resurrection. In the final scene, the main character sings to her mother and is nearly swallowed up by her own grief, but she persists and is saved by the statue of her mom. Then, we see her mother’s grave starts to sing and move, and her daughter sings and harmonizes alongside her, exploding the world into colorful life and hope. To me, the idea that a grave begins to move and to sing acts like a powerful retelling of resurrection. Similarly, the journey from Gris to color, life, light, and music presents the game as a narrative about how all of us can rise from the ashes of our own spiritual death and lifelessness intomoving towards a recovery of the music, the color, the light, the love, and the hope that was lost. 

As much as I have gained a new appreciation for this game over time, I have even more profound respect and admiration for the creators of such a beautiful game. A game as beautiful, engaging, and immersive as this cannot exist in a vacuum. Such a game is only possible through the inspiration of human creativity. Although I will never know the stories and experiences of the creators, it seems plain to me that the game was born out of genuine tragedy and pain. The game transcends the medium of entertainment for me now; it represents how a team of creative artists worked together to tell a story about coping with loss and working towards recovery. I will never know the personal stories of pain, but through this gaming experience I can empathize with their pain and be inspired by the journey to recovery. Now I know that someone coped with true loss by creating something beautiful from the ashes of that loss. What can be more universal than communal participation in loss and recovery? 

All that said, I must give a massive thank you to the creators at Nomada Studios for making Gris. Thank you for showing people that we do not have to stay lost forever. Thank you for showing us that there is freedom from loss and pain. Thank you for illustrating how we can stay on the path to recovery. Thank you for taking a painful experience and turning it into something beautiful.

Meteor Shower- a short film

My short film is here! Huge thank you to all the actors involved including Jeremiah HawkinsSydney HollefreundLauren McGuire, and my sister Angela! Once again, huge thank you to Benjamin Lacey for producing, filming, editing, and for supporting me through this process every step of the way.

The only other preamble I will offer is an explanation of the color green motif. I use the color green in specific places based on Dante’s Comedy’s explanation of the color green. In his trilogy, the color green represents hope; the angels in heaven are dressed in green to represent the hope of heaven and of the gospel that they have the opportunity to spread. Watch for how the color green acts as a symbol of hope throughout this short story.

Thank you all once again! Comment if you have any questions or comments because I am happy to talk more about this with you all and hope you are encouraged by it. Enjoy!

Shazam! Reflections (2019)

“Shazam!” (2019) is directed by David Sandberg and stars Zachary Levi as adult Shazam, Asher Angel as Billy Batsosn, and Mark Strong as Doctor Sivana. The film maintains a solid 91% on Rotten Tomatoes with a 90% audience score. Although box office numbers are still early, as of April 8th, the film has grossed over $159 million globally, already surpassing How to Train Your Dragon 3 and Us. It is still early, but it is unlikely that Shazam! will also surpass the $1 billion mark like Aquaman and Captain Marvel have already done. Audiences generally enjoyed this movie, and for good reason.

“Shazam!” maintains DC’s run of good films. After the mess that was Justice League in 2018, DC seems to have turned away from attempting to build a cinematic universe and have turned towards creating good, self-contained superhero stories. This strategy is the perfect counter to fans who may get bored with or exhausted by the cinematic universe created by Marvel Studios. Although many of the Marvel films are successful and generally good films, the danger of a monopoly starving innovation and creativity persists. Thus, DC can act as a source of innovative, enjoyable, well-constructed, self-contained stories for audiences who do not want to watch a movie that may be bogged down by having to tie to previous and future films.

“Shazam!” at its core is about what defines a family. Billy Batson is an orphan who was abandoned by his mother, and the film withholds the reason why until near the final act. Thus, his character revolves around his commitment to find her again and hopefully to be reunited with his real family. Without giving any spoilers, the film shatters the idea that your biological family must be your only true family. By spending time with them and caring for them, Billy Batson learns that family is not determined by his birth but by the people he chooses to love. Each of the members in his foster home are surprisingly memorable, and the film succeeds in delivering a heart-warming message about how you find your family.

The protagonist and antagonist act as interesting foils for and mirrors of each other. Doctor Sivana has an origin story similar to the protagonist. As a child, although he has a father and a brother, they both tell him that he will never be worthy or amount to anything. Beyond that, when he approaches the elderly Shazam, he is told that he will never be worthy once more. He shows no signs of having bad intentions but is judged harshly from an incredibly young age. Similarly, Billy Batson was abandoned by his parents and clearly is not pure of heart, yet simply due to the desperation of the situation, he is chosen to be the champion who would wield the powers of Shazam. In this way, the protagonist and villain represent the opposite outcomes from similar childhoods. Thus, the film stresses the impact that a good or bad childhood has on an individual’s identity, which ties beautifully into the importance of welcoming foster children as your own and giving them the childhood they never had.

The film succeeds in giving its main character his own goals, personality, and arc. Zachary Levi gives an endlessly entertaining performance as Shazam and clearly had a blast on set. It really shows in the final product. Although the film’s humor could have eclipsed the story and its emotional weight, the humor actually makes the emotional scenes that much more impactful. Although Marvel films have been accused of abusing humor to the extent that the humor takes away the emotional impact of many of its scenes, “Shazam!” never sacrifices an emotional scene for a comedic moment. The film finds a way to blend its comedic tone with emotional impact when it needs to in order to fully flesh out its characters as well as keep audiences constantly engaged. Despite the length of the third act, on first viewing I was rarely bored and enjoyed it every step of the way.

Although the film is largely a silly movie for kids, I was surprised by the number of jolting moments within the film. More likely than not, these moments are inspired by the film’s director, David Sandberg, who has made horror films such as Lights Out (2016) and Anabelle: Creation (2017). The film opens with the origin of Doctor Sivana as a child, and the scene involves a car crash that happens really suddenly and really jolted me when I first saw it. At one point, Doctor Sivana’s assistant touches a door portal and melts like the villains in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Beyond that, the seven deadly sins are personified as beasts inspired by gargoyles and similarly horrifying creatures. One of these creatures even bites the head off someone. These moments are shocking in their own right but even more so when juxtaposed with the goofiness of such a comedic film. Sandberg seems to understand that horror is that much more impactful when placed near comedy because the tone shifts drastically from a light-hearted one to a violent and dark one, creating a wider range of emotion for the audience to experience. I was surprised that a film so committed to comedy was allowed to have these jarring horror elements, but I think the viewing experience benefits for it.

Although the film is not a cinematic masterpiece or that much of a critique of the superhero genre, it does well to introduce a compelling and likeable new superhero and continues to keep the superhero genre fresh and alive. The film is not the Avengers, The Dark Knight, or Spider-Man, but it doesn’t try to be. At its core is an important message about family and what makes people family, which I think we as Christians especially should be engaging with. We are all adopted into His family because of His love, and Scripture calls us to do the same for the orphans countless times. This film helped convict me of that reality and encourage me to love those who need it most.

DC will release “Joker” on October 4th later this year.

Captain Marvel Reflections (2019)

“Captain Marvel” (2019) is directed by Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck and stars Brie Larson as Carol Danvers (Captain Marvel), Samuel L. Jackson as Nick Fury, Jude Law as Yon-Rogg, Ben Mendelsohn as Telos, and Clark Gregg as Phil Coulson. The film rests at a Rotten Tomatoes general score of 79% with a 62% audience score. Although the score is not especially high, the film has easily out grossed any other film this year so far, grossing about $780 million worldwide. The film is expected to reach past $1 billion, a feat only films like Aquaman, Black Panther, and Infinity War have managed recently.

All this is surprising because given the controversial political climate that Brie Larson stirred beforehand and given the complaints of superhero fatigue mounting over recent years, I would have assumed that this would be the film that tanked. I thought that for once the Marvel formula would get boring for audiences. I thought that not even this film could withstand the murmurs of fatigue with the genre. I was wrong.

Why has this film done so well? Although it is possible that the film is just so popular because it is an excellent film, I would suggest other probable causes for its box office success. The most obvious possible cause is the massive Marvel fanbase that the MCU has garnered over the last decade. Fans feel invested in the overarching story of the MCU timeline, and Marvel has proven through solo films like Black Panther that even largely unknown characters starring in a solo-movie role can be a huge financial success. Beyond that, Captain Marvel is the last film that Marvel will release before they release Avengers: End Game. No doubt, fans will want to be all caught up on the entire MCU before they go into theaters for the grand finale to this decade-long arc for so many characters. Lastly, this is Marvel’s first female-led superhero film, attempting to expand their fanbase to inspire girls to be strong and to go higher, further, faster, much like Wonder Woman and even Alita: Battle Angel have done.

I want to make one point clear before I move on to the actual movie. You do not need to see this film in order to understand End Game. If you have seen Infinity War and know what the pager is, that is probably all you need to know. The only details that might return would most likely relate to the Tesseract or to the cat, but even those are likely not big plot points in End Game if they are in it at all. This leads me to why I think you can skip this film: despite the title, the story fails to sufficiently give Captain Marvel a personality or an arc, and neither does the film establish what her powers are or how they really work.

I do not know who Captain Marvel is. When it comes down to it, I do not know what Carol Danvers is motivated by, is inspired by, has convictions, or even what her personality is. The film tells us that she is overly emotional, but not only is Brie Larson fairly stoic in her performance, there is no point in the film in which emotion clearly gets in the way of achieving her goals. Although Carol Danvers is sometimes quippy and has some interesting dialogue with Nick Fury, she is not given the same careful character construction that previous MCU films have had. Characters like Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Stephen Strange, Peter Parker, Ant-Man, even the Guardians of the Galaxy and more have clearly distinct characteristics and motivations, but the same cannot be said of Carol Danvers. She is sometimes quippy, other times fairly stoic, often confused, occasionally emotional, but ultimately uninteresting because the film does not establish what she wants, and it certainly fails to create a sense that she has changed in any way by the end.

Another reason why this film doesn’t work generally is because it tries to be two better films at once: Memento and Guardians of the Galaxy (1 and 2). However, in an attempt to create a compelling narrative about recapturing memories as well as emulate the style and feel of the Guardians of the Galaxy films, it succeeds at neither.

Captain Marvel attempts to be like the Guardians of the Galaxy films in many ways, from balancing lots of ensemble characters, to lots of jokes, to a focus on personal identity, to a focus on bright visuals, and even to a focus on incorporating music into the action. However, whereas in the Guardians of the Galaxy films the character work is excellent, the tone is consistently funny and its jokes land, the quest for personal identity is constantly evolving and intriguing, and the score is one of the best in the MCU, Captain Marvel fails in all those areas. The characters are ultimately uninteresting aside from the charisma of the actors; the jokes are far and few between and do not always land; the amnesia plot about seeking personal identity is anti-climactic; the visuals are mostly uninteresting; and the score is a bit of a disappointment. I have no idea what would have happened if James Gunn also directed Captain Marvel, but I imagine these problems would at least begin to be fixed if not made significantly better.

Captain Marvel also attempts to be like Memento by centering its main character around recovering memories. Nolan’s Memento is based on the premise that the protagonist has no short-term memory and struggles to trust himself, much less what other people say is true about him. There, the tension comes from figuring out whether what the protagonist believes is true, and he is constantly introspective of whether he can trust his own thoughts, notes, and tatoos. You would think that the introduction of shapeshifting Skrulls in Captain Marvel would be a creative and wacky means of introducing doubt into a narrative already centered around doubt, memory, and discovering truth. However, the shapeshifting aspect of the Skrulls is diffused rather quickly, and Carol Danvers never questions what she believes. The alternative story is presented as definitive truth that she accepts quickly, wholeheartedly, and with little resistance or emotional weight. This is a real shame because it removes all the tension within the character and the story. The final fight with the Kree would be much more tense if Carol did not want to fight the Kree because they are her friends that she trusted, but all that is tossed aside as if they never knew each other. The film forgets that this should be a groundbreaking and emotionally wrecking moment and opts towards rushing the end of the film so that Captain Marvel can glow in space. I would much prefer an emotional conflict to a physical one, but the filmmakers chose the latter, and Carol’s arc suffers for it.

Although the film is a letdown in those ways, the bright spot and most fun part of the film is easily the chemistry between Brie Larson and Samuel L. Jackson. Samuel L. Jackson is good in just about everything, usually because he basically just gets to play himself, and his charisma blends well with the quippy remarks of Brie Larson and allows for an enjoyable ride and even some memorable lines. Plus, the film manages to push a fair amount of exposition about the Skrulls and how they work without doing so in a way that would be boring to most audiences, since watching Carol and Fury bounce ideas off each other is consistently entertaining. This allows the film to incorporate Skrulls into the plot without feeling too overwhelming or confusing, even though such an introduction could really shake its structure if handled poorly.

Before we conclude, it is important to note that this film is not nearly as bad as many reviews were predicting it would be. Brie Larson had made comments about more diversity and against white males controlling such narratives, and many fans reacted very negatively to her comments, threatening to boycott and predicting the film would be full of sexist feminism, diversity propaganda, and pro-war propaganda. Such claims could not be further from the truth. Although there are two comments that relate to feminism (namely, a comment about women smiling more and a comment about why it’s called a “cockpit”), these were all. The film does not go overboard with political propaganda, and the story actually has one of the most anti-war messages in recent memory. All that to say, if you are going to read reviews about films, at least wait until that film is released before trusting any of them.  

Overall, if you are looking for nothing more than a fun buddy-cop story with decent comedy and sufficient action, Captain Marvel will satisfy you. Unfortunately, the film is disappointing compared to most other MCU entries. Wait until DVD rentals are available.

Marvel Studios will release Avengers: End Game on April 26th next month.

How To Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World (2019)

“How To Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World” (2019) is directed by Dean DeBlois and stars the returning voices of Jay Baruchel as Hiccup, America Ferrera as Astrid, Cate Blanchett as Valka, Jonah Hill as Snotlout, and Kit Harrington as Eret, among many others. The film currently sits on 92% on Rotten Tomatoes with a 90% audience score. The film has done quite well at the box office too, grossing over $275 million worldwide, topping the box office success of films like Venom, Ant-Man and the Wasp, Mission Impossible: Fallout, and Alita: Battle Angel (the closest at $264 million currently).

All this is massively impressive for an animated film. Why did this animated film do so well and become so widely accepted my general movie viewing audiences?

The main reason this film has done so well is that the film brings a satisfying ending to the “How To Train Your Dragon” trilogy. Regardless of the critiques you could make of the film ranging from slower pacing to an ultimately uninteresting villain to a lack of balance among the cast of characters, the film retains an emotional core and a heart that is unbroken.

This film’s biggest strength has to be the dynamic that Toothless has both with Hiccup and with the Light Fury. This film does well to further the friendship that Hiccup and Toothless have through visual gags as well as through the decisions and nonverbal communication they both use as the story progresses. Beyond that, the film crafts a new relationship between Toothless and the Light Fury primarily through nonverbal communication that keeps everyone engaged and curious. The way the two of them communicate through gestures and occasional dragon speech shows the mastery of film as a medium. Film does not need dialogue to tell a story; the visual medium should tell a story on its own.

The relationship between Toothless and the Light Fury mirrors the relationship between Wall-E and Eve from Pixar’s 2008 animated film. Just as the Light Fury and Even can fly easily, so Toothless and Wall-E need help to fly from either a prosthetic tail or from using a fire extinguisher in space. Just as the Light Fury is initially skeptical of Toothless and struggles to open up to him, so Eve does not warm up to Wall-E initially. Just as Toothless and the Light Fury have a flying sequence in the sky, Wall-E and Eve have a flying sequence in space. Just as Eve has to carry Wall-E around in space, the Light Fury at one point has to fly to save Toothless by carrying him on her back. Although I don’t think the studios are copying each other necessarily, both character dynamics reveal how much emotion you can put into primarily visual communication, which ultimately is a testament to the emotional power of film as a medium.

The film’s villain Grimmel the Grisly did not seem as compelling a villain on first viewing, although he works within the story and progresses the narrative forward. His motivation revolves around killing dragons, specifically Night Furies, because he wants to protect humanity from being overcome by dragons. In that sense, he is very much like Drago, the main villain of the second film in the trilogy. However, Grimmel distinguishes himself from Drago by framing his motivation as psychological warfare. In one sense, the psychological warfare refers to the joy he finds in the hunt and in getting inside the heads of his victims. In another sense, though, he acts as a counter to hiccup psychologically by presenting his ideology as his antithesis, and he goes on to call Hiccup’s ideology of combining the races of humans and dragons to be a poisonous ideology. This detail is important not just because it sets up a villain who goes after the weakness of the main character, mainly his unhealthy dependence on dragons that is later explored, but also because it acts as a nice foreshadowing of the poisonous breath of Grimmel’s dragons.

Upon further reflection, although the villain does not necessarily surprise anyone with his decisions, he works as a villain because gets to the core of Hiccup ideologically and morally. The film explores how Hiccup has more confidence in dragons than he has in himself as a leader, and Astrid has to help him see himself as a good leader before he becomes one. Grimmel also forces Hiccup to compromise his general rule of not murdering anyone, which is a sign of a villain that brings the hero to the brink of his own morals. Lastly, the villain ends up being partially right about humans and dragons not coexisting, resulting in Hiccup loving Toothless enough to let him go free.

As for shots that stand out, one motif that keeps recurring is one character falling to save another who is falling. In the first film, Hiccup falls near the fire of the Red Death and must be saved by Toothless. In the second, Toothless falls because of his prosthetic wing and must be chased and saved by Hiccup. In the third film, Hiccup and Toothless both fall, and both must be saved by the Light Fury. Ultimately, I think this motif of falling and being saved illustrates trust and the power of friendship, which is something all of us can learn from and seek to find in our own friendships.

Dreamworks will release another animated film called “Abominable” in September this year. Upcoming big animated films include the Lego Movie 2, Toy Story 4, and Frozen 2.

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)

        Animation and film outside of Disney and Miyazaki have struggled to gain traction in the movie industry over the last several years if not decades, with the production quality ranging from beautiful films like The Incredibles, Wall-E, and Inside Out to more forgettable films like Robots or The Emoji Movie. Usually the entire genre has been segregated from the general viewing population and focuses on a more realistic target demographic: kids. It is no surprise that there seems to be an underlying divergence from producing quality animation unless you are working alongside Disney or Miyazaki himself. Animation has seen plenty of entries and even several entries with good box office runs, but few tend to enter into the same critical success of other genre pieces. Animation is not dead but has been slowly fading from the viewers’ conscious.

        Into the Spider-Verse proves through its unique animation style, world-building, score, characters, and themes that animation uniquely brings stories to life. This film simply screams personality in its style of animation, which is also a metanarrative in the film itself. The stories of Miles Morales and those around him revolve around embracing what makes each of their personalities unique, and the only way they can find true success and meaning in life is to embrace those differences. Thus, it is fitting that a story about embracing what makes you unique is told best through one of the most unique animation styles in recent memory.

        Into the Spider-Verse feels like a real comic book being opened before our eyes. In fact, Sony is attempting to patent their style because of how their animation technology has allowed them to mimic the appearance of a comic book page, such as the small dots that appeared because of how they were printed or the tiny onomatopoeia’s or the presentation of several successive images that simulate consecutive comic book panels. The film even begins with a seal of approval from the Comics Code Authority, an homage to a group that protested the presence of violence in comic books at the time. The film takes every effort to fully immerse its viewers into an experience that could not be closer to enjoying a comic book and clearly has a passion for that art style.

        Thankfully, Into the Spider-Verse has substance in addition to style. So many films have made the mistake of prioritizing art over the story, but this film finds a way to cohesively blend both quite beautifully. As mentioned before, the subtext of the animation is the actual text of the story: the film’s unique style speaks to the message of embracing what makes each of us wholly unique. Beyond that, the story this film tells finds enough time to get its audience emotionally invested in its characters, a feat worth more credit considering that they also had to segue the origin of multi-dimensional travel and time-rifts. By the end of the film, we get a sense of who Miles Morales is, who Spider-Gwen is, who Peter B. Parker is, who Miles’ parents and uncle are, and even who Kingpin is. Although we get little more than origin stories for the other Spider-people, the voice actors do sufficient work in establishing their quirks and distinguishing each of them from our main heroes. The film succeeds in pacing its story and humor in such a way that it never feels slow or boring because there is always something unique to find in almost every scene.

        As for character development, the film establishes a clear rift between Miles and his father, and between his father and his uncle Aaron. It is clear that in each of these relationships, both parties do care for each other but struggle to show it. Miles’ dad and uncle seem to respect each other, despite their differences, but there is clear tension between their lifestyles, just as Miles feels like there is tension between what he wants to do and what his parents and teachers want him to do. He feels like there is no room for him to be unique, which is why his heart is not in what he does at school. He struggles to keep up with his schoolwork and struggles to be on the same page with his own father, so of course it makes sense that he is attracted to uncle Aaron. If the enemy of your enemy is your friend, it makes sense that they would bond over disagreeing with him. After all, Miles only feels like his love for art is appreciated around his uncle Aaron.

        What I appreciate most about the introduction to Miles’ character is that he is instantly relatable. He is only a 13-year-old kid with a complicated relationship with his father and uncle and an unsteady sense of self-worth and identity. He is what personality type geeks would probably label “unstructured,” simply meaning he does not have a solid foundation or drive for what he wants to do because he is unsure what he wants to do yet. He has artistic passions outside of school, but that’s about all we learn about what he wants to do and who he wants to be. He even tells fellow classmates that he knows that his shoe is untied because “it’s a choice.” Clearly, he dislikes the idea of others pressuring him to do anything, and perhaps he does the opposite simply out of spite, or more likely he wants to do the opposite of everyone else if not simply because he wants to stand out and be unique. He does not want to fit in anywhere or with anyone because he wants to do his own thing. That is a sentiment I and many others can relate to, and it helps ground the character and helps keep the audience invested. However, beyond all that, the film succeeds in making its audience care about Miles because of its brilliant usage of thought bubbles. The way that the film portrays thought bubbles like a comic book in order to get inside Miles’ head and understand his thoughts efficiently and humorously portrays internal monologues and emotions better than any straightforward dialogue could. This adds not just to the style of looking like a comic but also to developing more emotional investment in the most important character in the film.

        A lot of this film is about that journey of discovering who you want to be. Before Miles gets his powers, he has to write a mini essay about who he wants to be, and at first, he titles it “Great Expectations.” However, after finding a place to put up his art with uncle Aaron, he is in a place where he feels at home and feels no pressure to create anything great. He simply makes what he feels like making. Thus, he titles his work, “No Expectations.” This is a good summary of his outlook on life before and after he must take up the responsibility of being the next Spider-Man. He feels most free and confident when the pressures of the world are not on his shoulders. He is his best self when he is in control of his burdens. Not only that, but the idea of having no expectations for the future is very much a mindset that youth are more likely to have because they are so innocent and carefree, even perhaps naïve about how they will find success in the world, and they simply pursue their dreams and goals because they love doing so. To have no expectations is to be free of the burdens and responsibilities of the future. Miles has no expectations because there is no pressure to make good art; he just makes what he feels because he enjoys making something unique.

        Of course, that notion is completely uprooted by the introduction of Miles’ powers. If Miles is a new Spider-Man, he must take up that mantle of great responsibility, or as his dad humorously paraphrases, “with great ability comes great accountability.” Whether he likes it or not, he is the next Spider-Man. He must carry the burden that mantle brings with it. Now there are greater expectations of him than ever. Once again, Miles is burdened by forces outside of his control, and he must abandon his own identity for the sake of his city and because of the burden of his promise to the now dead Peter Parker. As a result, Miles cannot control his powers until the third act. He is too heavily burdened at too young an age to live up to this responsibility. He has had his powers for no more than two days; what could you expect from a 13-year-old? It honestly blew my mind that Miles was only 13 when he became Spider-Man. I am 20-years-old as I write this, and I cannot imagine the burden of being Spider-Man, especially without a teacher or mentor. All that to say, the film continues this commentary on how society and just life creates burdens and responsibilities that can affect how well we can succeed, and the filmmakers encourage us not to fall prey to the world’s expectations and to focus on our own expectations first.        

        Of the new characters introduced into this film, I was really impressed by the character direction of and chemistry between Miles and Spider-Gwen. This film is too packed with characters and world-building as it is to create space for a romantic side-plot, so the film instead spends time developing how Miles and Gwen learn to respect each other and become platonic friends. The two slowly build a friendship from before Miles gets powers, and that relationship only grows from there. Miles has a conversation with uncle Aaron about the shoulder touch, and his attempt to try this on Gwen is a hilarious payoff. We later learn that she needed to go to this school because she sensed that she needed to, and I am glad that there is no reveal that she was only pretending to be nice as a cover for her secret identity. The film could go in either the extreme of she becomes an emotionally manipulative double agent like Black Widow or she becomes a one-dimensional love interest, but thankfully her character has more to her than that. Spider-Gwen struggles to open up to people emotionally because of her backstory, and it appears that Miles is her first close friend. Miles acts as a window into being willing to be vulnerable for someone again, and that is a surprisingly nuanced lesson to teach. The writing for Spider-Gwen surpassed my expectations and brought real character depth to an already emotionally packed film.

        The film’s villains have enough weight behind them to move the story along. Kingpin wants to create a multi-dimensional time rift in order to basically steal his wife and son from other dimensions, while there is a surprisingly good reveal that the scientist is this universe’s Doc Oc. Although not much time it spent on either of these characters, the Doc Oc reveal really works and is the best version of Doc Oc on screen since Alfred Molina’s portrayal in Spider-Man 2. More notably, Kingpin’s philosophy is that he can only find happiness if he can get his family back. He feels guilt for scaring them away and incidentally causing their deaths in a car collision, so he feels like he is responsible for it. Once again, the theme of responsibility shines even through the antagonist, yet his response is quite different from that of Miles. Kingpin would rather risk a literal rip in space time than be without his family, and perhaps that is not so evil a notion. Is there something you wouldn’t do to save a loved one? For as much as the film makes Kingpin into an antagonist, it also is asking deep questions about how we cope with loss, especially if we are burdened by feeling responsible in some way.

        The death of uncle Aaron furthers this message about how we cope with loss. First of all, the film does well to conceal in plain sight that Uncle Aaron is the Prowler by including details like his knowledge of back alleys at the start and his curious disappearance and voicemail that confirms his mysterious absence. Of course, only in hindsight do we realize that being the Prowler means he would have full knowledge of the city, and his mission to kill Miles does take a couple days before he finally catches him. The filmmakers hide little clues about who Uncle Aaron is without fully unmasking his identity before he does. It truly is impressive that the character reveals of Doc Oc and the Prowler had so much weight behind them.

        Uncle Aaron’s death has weight because it further explores the theme of responsibility. Aaron’s dying words are as follows:

No Miles. I’m sorry. I wanted you to look up to me. I let you down, man, I let you down. You’re the best of all of us, Miles. You’re on your way. Just… keep going… just keep going…

Miles thinks that it’s his fault, but Aaron takes responsibility for his own actions. He recognizes that he carries the weight of being a role model and has to take responsibility for failing to live up to that role. He then gifts Miles a new responsibility, to live up to his own expectations, by saying that he is the best of all of us and is on his way. Miles is the best of all of us because he constantly looks for ways to be unique. He represents what it means to make something your own. Miles is the best of us because he brings the best out of us and out of himself. All he needs is to put off the burdens of those around him and focus only on the burdens he places on himself.

        Following Aaron’s death, the film takes some time with Miles to talk about how we all cope with loss. Initially, Miles is too angry to process anything, and he even hurls the “no expectations” drawing out the window. Miles has lost a part of himself that he saw in Uncle Aaron. He feels alone, but thankfully he does not have to be. His friends hurl the art right back at him and comfort him. Peter Porker says that the hardest part about this job is that you can’t save everybody, and Gwen reminds Miles that they are the only people who could understand his pain. Of course, they do understand, but she is wrong. They are not the only ones who understand his pain. In fact, there is one person who best understands Miles’ pain: his dad.

        After Miles has been tied up by Peter B. Parker, Miles wrestles with the webbing and tries to escape but cannot. Then he hears his dad knock at the door, and we listen to the most intimate scene in the film. Jefferson approaches his son with a tender vulnerability that only a father can truly demonstrate. He wants nothing more than to be with his son and to console him about the passing of Uncle Aaron. He regrets being so hard on his son before and wants him to feel safe and loved when they are together but struggles to put those emotions into words, and yet what he does say is so moving:

Look sometimes, people drift apart, Miles. And I don’t want that to happen to us, ok?

Look, I know I don’t always do what you need me to do or say what you need me to say,

but I’m… I see this…this spark in you. It’s amazing, it’s why I push you. But it’s yours and whatever you choose to do with it, you’ll be great.

For the first time in this film, Jefferson gives his son a reason to be proud of who he is. For the duration of the film, Miles has been pressured by everyone around him to be someone that they want him to be, and he struggles under that pressure. Even his mentor, Peter B. Parker, has decided that Miles is not good enough to survive under pressure yet. Not Jefferson. The one person who has been a constant source of pressure since the first scene of the film humbles himself enough to encourage Miles to be who he wants to be. He acknowledges for the first time that the spark that he sees in his son belongs to Miles and affirms that he will do great things. Miles did not need the pressure of a mentor to fulfill his potential. He needed to know that his father was proud of him. He needed love and support from the person who matters most in his life, and for once he gets that love.

On first viewing, Miles appears to gain control of his new abilities from nothing with little explanation. However, it is clear from both Peter B. Parker and from Jefferson what Miles needed to do to gain control. Miles doesn’t become a hero because the other Spider-people need him to be. He cannot find the strength because of their expectations. He only finds strength in order to meet his own expectations. It was all in his head. Great expectations must not be external but internal. For Miles, that means mending his relationship with his father. Only after listening to his father pour his heart out over the loss of his uncle and attempt to be a better father does Miles find the strength and confidence to become who he needs to be. He rises to the occasion not because of his mentors or even his city but because he has something to prove to his father and to himself. Only by learning that you must take a leap of faith and by gaining the support and pride of his father does Miles find the strength and focus necessary to ignite that spark.

A favorite shot of mine in this film is the flipped shot of Miles falling from the top of a skyscraper. I am a big fan of reverse and flipped shots in film because it suggests some kind of contrast that creates a new meaning for the same image (see the Dark Knight, Black Panther, etc.). In this film, once Miles controls his powers for the first time, he wastes no time testing it. He does not know that he is ready to dive from such a height. We don’t either. Regardless, he fulfills the theme of taking a leap of faith by literally taking a leap of faith. He dives with incredible speed towards the ground below, and for a moment we get a slow-motion shot of him falling followed by a flipped image of the same shot. This flipping of the image shows that in his mind, he is not falling. He is rising. By taking a leap of faith, he rises to the occasion and fulfills his full potential. By flipping the shot, we are shown that Miles is now headed in the right direction: up. Everything else in this film has tried to keep him down, but like any other Spider-Man, he always gets up. Even when he falls, in his mind he is going up.

Without question, the most dynamic characterization is found in the relationship between Miles Morales and Peter B. Parker. These two play off each other and contrast each other in fun ways. It is clear that the voice actors put in good performances and had good chemistry with each other. Aside from that, I love how Peter B. Parker learns as much from Miles as Miles does from him, and with that we shall talk about why Peter B. Parker is such a well written and important character.

Peter B. Parker’s central conflict is his very name. The inclusion of the middle initial B shows that he is still Peter Parker, just one that is not living up to his potential. He is content with a B-level performance and struggles to find a drive to go beyond that on his own. He is a Spider-Man who struggles to live up to his name. Spider-Man is supposed to always get back up, but he struggles to do so outside of New York’s arsenal of villains. After so many years of being Spider-Man, everything from the pressures of staying in shape to having good friends to having kids with MJ is too much for him to handle. He chooses to get a divorce because he fears the commitment of having kids. He doesn’t feel ready to take on that responsibility. He says that he handles it “like a champ” as we watch him bawling in the shower with a slice of pizza because he has become an unreliable narrator. That is the real battle for Peter B. Parker. He struggles to take on responsibility by letting his fears and loss of drive dictate his fate. He has to learn the same lesson that Miles learns: take a leap of faith.

Peter B. Parker learns so much from Miles because they initially are polar opposites of each other. Miles feels pressured by the responsibilities he must carry in his daily life, and now as Spider-Man who has to fulfill his promise to Peter Parker. By contrast, Peter B. Parker has abandoned most of his responsibilities. He feels no pressure to be true to himself, to MJ, to his own health because he lacks the drive and will to care in the first place. Thus, while Miles is weighed down by his duty to fulfill his promise to Peter Parker, Peter B. Parker insists that he is busy with other things in his own dimension when that is clearly not the case. He wants to abandon his responsibility to help Miles until Miles finds a way to guilt-trip him into helping. Only then does Peter B. Parker half-heartedly explain the Spider-verse and essentially abandons Miles while trying to infiltrate Kingpin’s facility. He does not plan ahead and has to teach Miles how to swing on the fly, and he says himself somewhat ironically that the best way to learn is “under intense, life-threatening pressure!” Once again, Miles is burdened with unnecessary pressure that he did not deserve, this time indirectly at the hands of his own mentor. Miles has to learn to forge his own path, while Peter B. Parker needs to learn to take better care of those around him and to take more responsibility for his own decisions and their repercussions.

Following this sequence, Peter B. Parker recognizes that he has stepped into the role of a mentor. He enjoys teaching Miles how to swing and enjoys seeing him succeed. He listens to Miles and Spider-Gwen talk to each other, and his only response is to smile. His heart is slowly warming up to the idea of loving children. He starts to feel a connection to Miles because they have spent so much time together and have done so much together already. For the duration of the second act, he continues to defend Miles and hypes him up. He wants the other Spider-people to see the awesome powers that Miles has, so he tells everyone about those powers even when Miles cannot control them. He insists that Miles has something to offer the team, even when Miles has yet to prove himself.

Following Uncle Aaron’s death, Peter B. Parker changes his stance towards Miles and takes responsibility for that casualty and for Miles’ own safety. Once he sees that his blind faith in Miles may cause direct harm, he makes the decision to keep Miles safe from the final battle. He feels responsible for letting Uncle Aaron die because he got Miles involved and because perhaps he could have stopped Kingpin earlier, and now he is ensuring that no one else can get hurt. Miles wants to avenge Peter Parker, but he is not ready yet. Peter B. Parker illustrates this quickly in an efficient yet a stoic way. He trips Miles, catches him, holds him by his shirt from the ceiling, and tells Miles to use his powers on command to get past him. Miles cannot do anything. Peter’s patience is too thin. This is the final straw. He webs Miles up in his chair and takes the key from him. Miles asks when he knows he will be ready, and Parker responds with the main message of the film. He says, “You won’t. It’s a leap of faith. That’s all it is Miles. A leap of faith.” None of us know when we are ready to face the next challenge that comes our way, but we will only know if we take a leap of faith.

Because Miles takes his leap of faith, he encourages Peter B. Parker to take his. Once Miles returns, Peter is absolutely ecstatic that Miles has learned to control his abilities, resulting in him directly saying that he might want kids now. In fact, the film does well to set up how his attitude towards kids changes. He mentions kids thrice in the film, and each time is quite different:

“She wanted kids, and it scared me.”

“Did you break this?” “No, it… broke. I don’t remember what happened.” “This is why I

never had kids, this is why I never did that.”

“You figured it out.” “I love you! I am so proud of you! Do I want kids?”

Peter goes from choosing a divorce over kids to being annoyed that kids break goobers sometimes to flat out saying that he loves Miles and is proud of him. His fear of raising kids has been completely washed away by his love and pride for Miles. Eventually, the time comes to push the button, and Peter at first is still fearful that Miles will die, this time not just out of fear of Kingpin or a doubt of Miles’ ability but because he loves Miles too much to lose him. Miles responds that it is ok. He has faith that he will succeed and that Peter will succeed. Peter asks directly what if he messes it up, and Miles reminds him of his own advice: it’s a leap of faith. The irony of this line is that the character who delivers it still must learn it. The two have come full circle. Peter must learn his own lesson and make a leap of faith by redeeming his relationship with MJ, and now he finally has the drive to try.  

       This movie is more than the sum of its parts. It is not just a film with unique visuals, good directing, good writing, good performances, and good action. It transcends the medium into real life. It’s not just that we all are Spider-Man because what makes us unique is what makes us true to ourselves, inspiring, even heroic. It is the idea that in all of our lives, we all must take a leap of faith. We never know what the future holds or how successful we will be or what kind of impact our pursuits will have on the world, but we will never know unless we first try. Once we take responsibility of our destiny, we control our expectations and fulfill our potential.

Avengers: Infinity War (2018)

Avengers: Infinity War is an accomplishment in and of itself. If you had told me ten years ago that everyone in pop culture would have to know the differences between all the Infinity Stones and would get a movie not just starring Thanos but crossing over characters ranging from Iron Man to Black Panther to Spider-Man to Starlord to Vision, I would have thought you were crazy. I wouldn’t even have known who some of those characters were in the first place, and yet today pop culture has completely bought into the MCU, and this film reaps the benefits of taking the time to establish its universe and its characters. At no point in this movie does it explain who these characters are, what their quirks are, why they know the other characters, and where they have come from. The audience is just expected to keep up with the story and is never pandered to, which is a huge relief to fans who are now passionate followers of the MCU. Even though some new fans might watch this film and be thoroughly confused because they don’t understand the worldbuilding and the context behind the story, the MCU has infiltrated pop culture to the point that those new fans are few and far between. As a result, we get a film that is less like a generically structured film and more like a massive crossover event, which does distinguish its structure from the rest of the MCU.

The biggest asset that this film has is the history of 10 years and 18 movies worth of films supporting it. The characters and their quirks are well established in the universe, and the overarching story of discovering all the Infinity Stones has been building up to Infinity War when they are all finally brought together. Thus, I consider it rather silly to compare this film to any other film because it is the capstone of a very long history of films all in one cinematic universe. I have seen some try to compare this film to the Last Jedi, which is a discussion for another day, and although comparing films is a fairly unfair task regardless, to compare this film specifically to any other is unfair because of the success that this film has been built upon for the last decade. So if anything, this film is a celebration of the culmination of such a successful franchise than it is its own independent entity.

That said, Infinity War is incredibly well balanced and incorporates both Thanos and the Black Order quite seamlessly into the script. Although Thanos is not my favorite villain in the MCU if only because his motives are not sympathetic or terribly relatable, which they are not designed to be, he is definitely the most menacing villain of the MCU thus far. Thanos has as much respect for where it is due as he has a lack of tolerance for anyone who gets in the way of accomplishing his goal of collecting all the stones in the Infinity Gauntlet. Although it is just about impossible to justify genocide on the scale that Thanos eventually performs with his “snapture,” the context of seeing his home planet die because of a lack of resources as well as seeing another home planet thrive since executing that policy makes for an at least partially understandable case, which is impressive to say the least. Since the gauntlet can barely handle wiping out half of all life, it probably can’t create new resources on a universal scale, which is something some fans have criticized the heroes for not asking Thanos to do. Thus, you can understand Thanos’ twisted thinking on one level, even if this solution includes universal genocide and emotionally traumatizes the entire universe in the absence of all those lives.

Despite all that, however, the writing behind Thanos was also an emotional roller coaster, since the film decides to take the angle that he is forcing himself to be the father of the universe, and they are all his children. In fact, the opening lines reflect this idea of fatherhood as the best expression for his relationship with the universe. Ebony Maw opens the film with this speech to the Asgardians they defeated:

Hear me… and rejoice. You have had the privilege of being saved by the Great Titan… You may think this is suffering… No. It is salvation… Universal scales, tipped toward balance because of your sacrifice… Smile, for even in death you have become children of Thanos.

Thanos describing himself as wanting to be the new father of the MCU in a way reflects the previous family issues that have plagued many of its heroes. Characters including Tony Stark, Loki, Spider-Man, Starlord, T’Challa, Nebula, and Gamora all in one way or another have struggled to find comfort in their father figures, or at least that role leaves more to be desired. For Nebula and Gamora especially, this means that their father was abusive and overly controlling of them, since he is a mad Titan. However, the script excellently shows how even though Thanos was a horrible father, Gamora still cared for her father, which we see when he uses the reality stone to make it seem like she actually killed him. She is moved to tears and falls to her knees when she sees him suffering, and that is what it must be like to be the daughter of a mad Titan. Similarly, Thanos preemptively is moved to tears when he realizes he has to sacrifice Gamora to collect the soul stone. He has to give up the very thing he wants to become: the role of being a father. Thus, it is fitting that his arc revolves around filling the void of fathership that several characters have needed. Furthermore, it’s even more fitting that Tony Stark is the only character to earn a drop of blood off Thanos because Stark is seen as the father of the MCU since Iron Man kicked off the entire franchise. Thus, Thanos defeating Stark by getting the time stone and using the snapture to kill his son-like figure, Peter Parker, Thanos takes away Stark’s role as a father and becomes the new father figure of the MCU, which is perhaps even more terrifying than allowing any stranger to wield the Infinity Gauntlet.

Another recurring concept from this film is the idea of trading lives. For the Avengers, trading lives is not an option. Captain America says that he refuses to trade Vision’s life for that of the lives that would be lost if Thanos succeeded. Scarlet Witch, similarly, refuses to kill Vision until she is forced to at the very end of the film. Even Doctor Strange, who swore to Stark and Parker that he would never give up the stone to save their lives, eventually does choose not to trade their lives for preserving the time stone, perhaps because Thanos can only be defeated in the scenario where he gets all six stones or even perhaps because Doctor Strange realized that Stark must be alive as an integral part of defeating Thanos in the “end game.” Either way, the Avengers refuse in all 3 cases to trade lives. However, Thanos is willing to trade Gamora’s life to acquire the soul stone. Even though he does succeed in achieving his goal, Avengers 4 might end up being about how Thanos regrets losing everything for his idea of peace, or perhaps will be about the Avengers convincing Thanos that such a trade will not reward him in the end and that there must be inherent value in life, just as Thanos preciously valued his daughter, Gamora, more than anything. Alternatively, since all the original Avengers are alive by the end of this film, perhaps Avengers 4 will be about all of them trading their lives to restore the rest of the Avengers to bring that idea full circle and bring an emotional end to this amazing original cast of Avengers.

However, there is one exception to this idea of trading lives: Starlord. In the first encounter with Thanos, Starlord is given the option to kill Gamora because she told him to in order to stop Thanos. Although Starlord does not understand how or why he has to kill Gamora to stop Thanos, he promises her that he will kill her, and in their encounter he actually does attempt to kill her by pulling the trigger on his gun. However, Thanos knows better than to let Gamora go, so he uses the reality stone to turn that gun into bubbles and prevent it from harming Gamora. He says “I like him” and takes off with Gamora. I find it fitting that the only character who was willing to trade lives is the kink in the Avengers’ armor. Starlord ends up somewhat inadvertently saving Thanos from losing the Infinity Gauntlet. As much as he gets slammed for not waiting a few more seconds to attack Thanos, it is perfectly in character for him to do so. Just as Tony Stark impulsively tries to kill Bucky for killing his mom in Civil War, and since Starlord is even more emotional and impulsive than Stark, it totally follows that he would have a breakdown and attack Thanos in frustration. Regardless, if any character would be the one inadvertently helping Thanos, it would be the only character who was willing to trade lives like Thanos was, which leaves room for growth in both of them.

The last element I enjoyed in this film’s conclusion is not just the snapture but the absence of music while it is happening. There is no overly dramatic score or sad high pitched notes that make us feel sad. The film instead opts to shock us by showing us all our favorite new characters slowly yet suddenly disappearing. We watch T’Challa help Okoye to her feet and say that this is no place to die as he fades, leaving Okoye to look around in confusion and shock. We see Groot cry out to Rocket as he slowly passes away. We see Bucky pass away right in front of his best friend’s eyes. We see Peter Parker say he doesn’t feel so good and we realize his Spidey senses are kicking in and warning him that danger is near. We realize that this is the end for him as he falls into the arms of Stark and cries “I don’t want to go…” before slowly fading away, leaving Stark in silent horror. We cut back to Steve and the others wondering what the hell is happening, and we pause as they think and wonder. Cap is the first to speak “oh god…” as we cut back to Thanos is without the gauntlet and takes a seat. The camera pans in silence and we get the hint of music only when we get the hint of a smirk from him. End credits. The film knows that the snapture will be shocking, and it allows for the shock to settle in by ending with several minutes full of silence. Because the film has so many characters that we have grown to love all disappearing so shockingly, no ending could appear so unreal and horrific quite like this one, and the silence of the film allows for this scene to leave an impact.

Incredibles 2 (2018)

Nothing can ever live up to the style and characters built by the original Incredibles film. I remember seeing that movie as a kid, and I absolutely loved it. It is the first movie I ever saw in theaters and I enjoy it still to this day. Even though the animation is not perfect, it was definitely ahead of its time and the style still holds up today, which has been improved even further in the sequel. All that to say, as far as the impact on cinema as a whole goes and the types of stories it tells about superheroes or stories reminiscent of mission impossible, comparing this sequel to the original is unfair, and to say it isn’t as good as the first is as useless a claim as it is true because I doubt anything they come up with at Pixar could be better. That said, this film is definitely worth seeing. Now let’s actually talk about the film.

This sequel reminds its audience that its characters have flaws. Although the Incredibles do combine their powers in fairly unique ways, the opening action sequence reminds us that all the family members often get frustrated with each other for one reason or another. Even something as simple as being responsible for taking care of Jack Jack becomes more of a burden for whoever holds him than something they feel careful and responsible about. Then once the family finds an apartment to stay for only a few more weeks, Bob and Helen are clashing hard over what the right thing to do is since superheroes are still illegal. Bob still thinks that being a hero is the right thing to do, but Helen sees value in respecting the law, even if they disagree with it. Although both are right from different perspectives, neither of them are willing to find a way to compromise on what they want to do and how they want to teach their kids to learn to do the right thing. Although this idea that supers being illegal has been done a few times by this point, this film focuses less on the politics and more on how the family dynamics change as a result. For a kids’ movie, that is a fairly complex dynamic to be incorporating into the film, which I credit the film for going for, as well as adding a new dynamic to this storyline of heroes being illegal.

Along with this idea of flawed characters, I was somewhat moved by the writing of Bob Parr. Although he does not lack being creative during action sequences, Bob definitely struggles with a bit of an ego, not just around Helen but even around his kids. When approached by Winston and Evelyn Deavor, they think that Elasagirl would be a better icon to put heroes back into the light. Bob is surprised by the decision and even disagrees with it, while Helen clears her throat and glares at him because she feels that she deserves to have this chance and partially to prove herself better than her husband. Bob eventually does decide that it is better for them to take this offer than not to have a job or a home in 2 weeks, but you can tell that he is frustrated that he cannot be involved in saving the day anymore. If anything, that is what makes his struggles to take care of the kids at home even more frustrating, because not only is Bob struggling to even get sufficient sleep, he on top of that stress and responsibility feels left out of the action that he craves so dearly. We see that come out in one conversation with his kids. Once sleep deprived, he says he can’t fail Helen because he is Mr. Incredible. Although you can tell that Bob wants to do the right thing, he tends to try too hard to fix things on his own and wants in a sense to be the hero for everyone in his life, both in public and private. He takes Violet to where Tony Rydinger works to try to fix that relationship in a really embarrassing way and only makes matters worse for all three of them. However, we also see in this film that Bob is working on finding ways to put others first. His drive to fix things does allow him to study the math that Dash was struggling with early in the morning and help him figure it out on his own. He also later apologizes to Violet for his awkward behavior around Tony and takes responsibility for that mistake, and that scene honestly made me tear up because nothing is more humbling than recognizing your own arrogance and apologizing for it. It reminded me why Bob is not just a one-dimensional, arrogant, controlling father; he is still a loving father who sacrifices all he has to protect his kids and let them grow. Thus, by the time the story reaches his conclusion, he understands the role he is meant to play and no longer worries about who takes the credit for success because that no longer matters.

In the same way that Bob and Helen contrast ideologies on supers through their discussions and arguments, Winston and Evelyn highlight contrasting responses to the relationship between supers and trust. Trust ultimately becomes the central theme of the film and is filtered to different conclusions through these main four characters. Whereas Bob and Helen find ways to eventually come to a consensus, it appears that Winston and Evelyn are at a standstill on their positions towards supers without much compromise, which not only shows how compromise prevents a radicalized position from developing but also furthers the dynamic of not trusting someone you don’t personally know. Even though some claim that the villain of this film is somewhat predictable, which is perhaps the point, the film excellently highlights the themes of compromise or lack thereof and trust through its four main characters.

Helen and Bob find a way to work together and compromise even when they disagree. Although Helen is the one who believes that breaking the law to earn money seems irrational and unjust, she ends up being convinced by Bob that she has to break the law so that her kids can have that choice. Instead of hiding their convictions and allowing them to stir and become even more entrenched than they already were, the two find a way to compromise on a complicated issue by opening up about where their convictions lie through some really good communication. They fight well and honestly are one of the most realistic couples I have seen on screen. This dynamic between the two of them only changes after the intervention of the Deavor siblings. After that happens, while Evelyn is playing up the ego of Elastagirl and telling her that she is so much better than her husband, Bob is struggling to deal with his own ego as Mr. Incredible and tries to fix everything for everyone instead of letting problems solve themselves more naturally. Although sometimes this works with Dash, it embarrassingly fails with Violet, and only through self reflection does he eventually apologize to Violet for his behavior and learns to trust her more than himself. Thus, by the end of the film, Bob and Helen can trust each other without having to worry about each other’s egos, and their defeat of the Deavors symbolizes their victory over puffed up versions of themselves. Cliché as mind control is in the film, their selfish speech about not getting enough praise from the public highlights this contrast between serving your own selfish ego and selflessly saving the day regardless of who gets the credit.

By contrast, the Deavor siblings do not trust each other and shut each other out, both preferring to do what benefits themselves most. Although we get hints of clashes of ideologies between Winston and Evelyn, they both tend to shut each other down and explain what they believe instead of actually listening to what the other person is saying. Essentially, they both straw man each others’ arguments or just ignore them entirely and instead focus on their own convictions about supers, leading both of them to completely polar opposite extremes. While one sibling wants to make supers legal for good so that they can use their gifts to benefit society at large, the other sibling thinks such trust is misplaced and wants supers to be banned entirely because their true selves forever remains a mystery. Generic as the backstory of “supers never saved my father” sounds, this is key because it highlights the polar opposite ideologies born from that experience in the same family. Thus, the dynamic between these siblings is a great foil to that of Bob and Helen Parr who find success through communication and compromise.

With that said, I have somewhat preemptively refuted claims that the film’s villain reveal is too cliché because I don’t think the film thinks nobody will guess the villain. The film definitely hints towards the reveal in several subtle ways, from the detail in establishing Evelyn as the creator of the camera technology to her blocking in several frames where she lies in the shadows to even some of the lines she says, like being “the genius behind the genius.” The film kind of wants you to see this reveal coming, which I did, and yet for me the most shocking scene in the film is where Helen finally figures out the source of the hypnotism. After tracking down the signal of the “Screenslaver,” she finds tons of evidence related to recent crimes and finds evidence of tons of information about hypnotism, then after a fairly long chase she catches the man in the mask. However, after studying the film a second time, Helen thought that this was too easy, especially since the locks on the door were fairly easily accessible and were unlocked fairly quickly. Evelyn moves closer to her and asks “well maybe he wanted you to catch him,” which spurs Helen on to think that maybe the point was to initially get the heroes all in one televised location, which was just announced at the party previously. Helen reaches into the mask and finds the glasses inside and says that the source of the hypnotism must have been from the glasses, and before she can finish her sentence, Evelyn has already shoved a pair of her own onto her eyes. When I saw that moment happen on screen, I was fully expecting Evelyn to be the villain by this point, but this moment still shook me to the core. The timing of that movement that cuts Helen off mid-sentence and suddenly results in her complicit silence really got to me, even though I fully expected her to be the villain, and moments like that make me want to watch the entire film again. I think that her later explanation of her backstory again to Helen was unnecessary, but I did like both how we never get a flashback slow-mo shot of that moment which would have been even more unnecessary and appreciate how she completes the theme of trust in that monologue. She spells out to Helen that they don’t know each other and that she gave Helen no good reason to be trusted, and that is what she wants to prevent the world from doing to supers because such trust can easily be broken. There is a valid lesson to be learned from that approach, even if her actions are taken too far in trying to prove that no supers can be trusted. Even though this motivation has been done before, I think that the way they show that story and the new dynamics and lessons they pull in by contrasting her with the other three main characters gives this villain a different kind of presence and placement in the plot’s structure. Yes the villain is predictable, but there is much more to the villain than playing the “guess the backstory” game; she plays off the other characters and brings a new ideology to that kind of motivation.

That said, my biggest critiques of this film rely mostly around pacing and overall weight of the action. The first 20 minutes or more that set up the encounter with the Deavors work really well and set up the main themes sufficiently, but sometimes the movie struggles to find a balance between what Helen is doing and how Bob is handling life at home with the kids. The film is also slightly bogged down with a lot of scenes that feel more like side quests and setups for the finale, including the first time we see Jack Jack use his powers against the racoon, the whole side plot with Jack Jack and Edna creating a new suit for him, the introduction of all the new heroes who have come into the light because of the Incredibles, and even some of the monologues by Screenslaver that did not really advance the themes of the film besides general trust and speculation, this time of media and technology. However, these scenes do not bog down the film so much as lead us into something more important, and the film is not even 2 hours long so I cannot really fault the film too heavily for these inclusions because they do add entertaining value and well constructed action to the film.

The other critique I have is the weight of the action, referring to whether we feel like there will be consequences for actions that happen during the film. The first 20 minutes actually grounds us pretty heavily in a world that still does not accept supers, especially if they are seen as causing property damage and fail to catch an antagonist. The Incredibles are lucky to have a home to stay in for another 2 weeks and are forced to trust a few siblings they have never met. However, although they struggle to trust the siblings at first, Helen trusts the siblings as much as Bob trusts Helen to do her job. If anything, Helen trusts the siblings more than she trusts her own husband to take care of the kids. Eventually, that gets turned against Bob because he trusts Helen when she kisses him, and that is how she gets the mask on him. However, the main issue with weight in this film revolves around the absence of the impact for when all the supers are under Evelyn’s mind control and the absence of the impact on the public by the end. There is a moment where all the supers have been mind controlled and open the door to the house where Dash, Violet, and Jack Jack are staying, and it barely left an impact even though that is a fairly big reveal. It reminded me of the moment in Spiderman Homecoming when Peter opens the door and sees Vulture instead of his date, Liz. When I saw that in theaters with a packed audience, everyone was absolutely audibly shocked, and then the release of tension followed by so much laughter at Tom Holland’s performance was one of my most memorable theater experiences ever. However, in this moment in Incredibles 2, the kids are now in very real danger, but Frozone steps in and helps them briefly, and I never felt like the kids were going to be mind controlled from that point. Even when Frozone gets mind controlled, he lets out a really weird scream/breath sound and it was less shocking and more a detail added on by this point. We get a shot of Mr. and Mrs. Incredible and Frozone sitting together with the glasses on, and though that is a fairly shocking image, it never brings any true impact by the end. Jack Jack uses telekinesis to pull the glasses off Elastagirl, the heroes all save the day, and the public immediately forgives the supers for everything with little to no explanation save a judge saying they are free to be in public. It would have been more impactful if even if Evelyn lost, her plan to ruin the image of supers still succeeded, resulting in the public perception of supers being more antagonistic than ever. However, the film brushes over the entire impact behind her character motivation, which to me was a disappointing bow to wrap on her motivation.

Overall, Incredibles 2 could never live up to the original film, and I doubt any animated film of the same genre ever could, but it does succeed in introducing new character dynamics, themes, and action sequences that are worth discussing. Although the film ends a little faster than the complexity of its themes deserved, and although characters like Edna and Dash remain fairly one-dimensional, most of the characters are given sufficient weight and interactions to make the film an enjoyable experience for all audiences.

 

Arrival (2016)

It seems impossible to talk about this film without first discussing how appropriates its title reveals itself to be after seeing the film and understanding its revelation. Once the film reveals that the weapon is the ability to see the future and understand reality in a circular way, not a linear way, the audience realizes that all the supposed flashbacks to a traumatic event are actually visions of Dr. Banks’ future with her daughter. Thus, the title arrival symbolizes the moment at which she arrives in the present that ties together the future and the past, namely when she agrees to start a family with Ian. The film is very much about what moments make us feel we have arrived at a vital moment or point in our lives as much as it is about the power of the arrival of this alien species and the insights they bring.

The most fascinating way to describe eternity comes through this conception of reality as circular, not as linear. Indeed, circular shapes play a huge role in this film. The ships that arrive on earth are fairly circular in shape and appear like a contact lens, something that brings the world into new focus, just as the aliens bring reality into a new focus by giving the ability of foresight. Next, the aliens themselves are more circular in shape and are fairly fluid in their movement as well, furthering this visual component. Last, the language that the aliens speak manifests itself in circular shapes, showing how their construction of time and language is not linear but circular and hinting at the revelation that this film is constructed in a circular way, as opposed to the usual linear structure convention that we are so used to seeing. Thus, all these circular images foreshadow the revelation of the concept of eternity as circular, and we understand reality in an all new way with that perspective.

This contrast between linear reality and circular reality is why the structure of the film becomes so clever, especially on second viewing. When seeing the film for the first time, you are shown what is presumably a flashback to a mother losing a daughter to a fatal disease, then you see that mother, Dr. Banks, walking past as everyone else looks out the windows. Dr. Banks actually looks really disengaged for most of the film leading up to the arrival of her full understanding of their language. However, on second viewing, you realize that those flashbacks are actually visions of the future, so that disengagement never came from a place of tragedy but from a place of solitude. Thus, you realize that Dr. Banks does not need healing from pain but rather needs a wakeup call to how disengaged she is from reality. She needs to choose to live for someone else for a change instead of staying disengaged and feeling nothing in the first place, and that is the beauty of the structure of this film because it completely changes her arc as a character.

Communication also is a major theme in the film, especially as it relates to language and contrasts the dynamics of Dr. Banks with the aliens versus with the government. It is no coincidence that Dr. Banks bases an entire book on the premise that language is the foundation of civilization, and that is the means by which the characters finds ways to interact with Abbot and Castello. Whereas Dr. Banks makes significant process with the creatures and develops some of their language through experiences with them, the government and other international governments reach a tipping point and refuse to communicate with each other because they make faulty assumptions based on limited information. Thus, it makes sense that when the aliens try to convey that they want to give a weapon, the message is initially unclear, and while the government takes that as a statement of violence, Dr. Banks is the only person willing to attempt to communicate further with the aliens to discern their true meaning. While the government and everyone else in the world has shut off communication, Dr. Banks uses communication as a vital tool to reconnect with the aliens and reestablish trust with them.

Language also plays heavily into the film’s climax in several important ways. First, it is the literal mechanism for preventing the outbreak of war. Dr. Banks is able to convince the ruler of China from declaring war on the aliens by communicating to him the dying words of his wife in Chinese, so in that sense language literally saves the world from potential catastrophe. Then on another level, the reason Dr. Banks can have foresight at all is because of her understanding of a new language. Just as she and Ian discussed the theory that learning a different language rewires how your brain thinks, Dr. Banks’ brain is completely rewired because of her full understanding of the alien language, so she is able to have that foresight in the first place because the aliens gifted her foresight as a weapon she can use to save the world.

Foresight plays vitally into how the aliens interact with the humans as well, especially as this relates to the nature of sacrifice. The aliens know that one of them is going to die because they have foresight of the entire situation, and they could have tried to change the past or even abandon humanity altogether, but they chose to withstand that sacrifice because they are willing to let that go if it means saving their entire race by giving Dr. Banks the gift of foresight. The aliens probably knew what the leader of China did and did not change that either to force Dr. Banks into a situation where she had to take action herself and receive that gift of foresight in the first place. Thus, knowing that the aliens are coming to earth and are willing to make sacrifices for our benefit illustrates the power of foresight and sacrifice.

Foresight also is a vital theme in this film because it wrestles with the struggle of the uncertainty of whether ignorance is bliss. For me, this is the most profound revelation of the film because it relates the concept of eternity to situations that make us question whether foreknowledge is a grace or not. For Dr. Banks, it must be immensely difficult to have foresight of all the memories she would make with her future daughter when she also knows that her daughter will be taken away from her by some kind of disease. It must also be difficult for her to decide to be with Ian when she also knows that Ian will abandon them both. However, she goes through with all this because her love for both her daughter and for Ian transcend knowledge of the future. She is willing to take those hits because she will have experienced such wonderful memories along the way. Whereas at the start of the film, she was distant from the world, from the news, from her students, even from her own mother, this decision proves she is willing to actually care about someone other than herself and to give them all the love she has to offer, even if it means losing them both.