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24
Mar
16

Review: Why the World Needs Batman v Superman

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[Editor’s Note: There be no spoilers here. Unless you’ve never seen a single trailer for this movie. In that case, you’ve been living under a rock and deserve all the spoils the world has to offer.]
It’s no secret I’ve been the island’s biggest skeptic (to put it mildly) of Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. Well, I was wrong. Wrong! Against all odds, against all hope, I now do believe in miracles. In fact, I was brought close to tears. While it is not a perfect superhero(es) film by a mile, the one most significant thing it gets right is that it makes you feel like a dork with a flashlight under the blanket or a loiterer in the aisle of Barnes and Noble with a graphic novel concealing facial recognition.
This certainly is no children’s film. Yeah we’re looking at you, Schumacher. It’s pretty darn violent and I’m not just talking about seeing Bruce Wayne’s parents being murdered again. Many impalings occur and there’s also a very near and dear nip slip from Amy Adams‘s Lois Lane–who remains a tad under-utilized but still…perky.
We open with a recap of Superman and General Zod reducing Metropolis to rubble in Man of Steel and we learn Bruce Wayne suffered traumatic losses in a non-too-subtle evocation of 9/11. From there, things take off and we arrive at the most anticipated comic book slugfest in history. (No, I’m not ignoring Captain America and his Civil War but that isn’t as mainstream-ly recognizable.)
Easter eggs are dropped aplenty and it will take intermediate-level comic book fans to comprehend them all in their entirety. During the end credits, “normies” will be asking their geek friends who’s who, what was that thing, etc.
(FYI: Unless something happens in Hollywood at the last minute, there isn’t any post credits scene in this film, or at least in the preview screening I attended. “You’re still here? It’s over. Go home. Go.”)
Batman V. Superman: Dawn Of Justice
Speaking of eggs, the main problem with director Zack Synder‘s Man of Steel was that it was hard to spoil since there wasn’t much worth spoiling in it. Not the case in the origins of this league of justice. All the questions the trailers proposed are answered, in one way or another. No cop outs. And even more questions pop up for viewers to mull over until the next chapter.
But, no need to fear of over-stuffing. Every character (and crowd pleasing cameo) is brought out properly and as organically as can be. Especially Wonder Woman. Gal Gadot actually doesn’t do much, but she has big eyes and a lovely measured accent that gives her a chic, resilient presence. It doesn’t hurt that her entrance as our favorite Amazonian warrior just totally rocks too. This is also the point that the score by Hans Zimmer and Junkie XL really cuts loose with a vaguely Middle Eastern guitar riff as her theme, which makes the composer’s trademark pounding drums seem as fresh as a nocturnal inception.
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Poor Doomsday is actually the weakest link, but by the time that villain pops up, what the hell… We’re already sold on the ridiculously extravagant fighting, carnage, and in what appears to be this franchise’s cross to bear, heavy municipal destruction. In fact, Doomsday is the only thing we prematurely passed judgment on correctly. He still kinda looks like a Peter Jackson cave troll.
Sure to be divisive though is Jesse Eisenberg‘s Lex Luthor. The actor does indeed play him like a prescription medicine-less Mark Zuckerberg and while I thought it worked as an inversion of Kevin Spacey’s interpretation of Superman’s arch-nemesis in Bryan Singer‘s equally controversial 2006 effort, others will find the performance too twitchy.
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The biggest relief is Ben Affleck. He may not be our favorite Bruce Wayne / Batman, and for some reason he plays the character with a really pronounced underbite, but he’s believable, alternately pretending to scope out the Metropolis ladies at a library opening, or pounding and dragging big monster truck tires around in his personal cross fit gym. He’s haunted, glowering and moody because he has to be: It appears a very close, unnamed comrade was killed by some maniac in a clown costume. And, he’s plagued by a “flash” of a nightmare seeming to come from the “dark side” of his unconsciousness. Trolls, leave Affleck alone and go shit on Agents of SHIELD. How the hell is this show still on the air? Talk about sleepily sluggish with no narrative momentum to give a crap about.
It will be interesting to see how Superman is handled furthermore. It’s been widely discussed that he may not be able to sustain his own movie. Man of Steel and its over-length is a prime example. Granted, we really didn’t need to see another iteration of General Zod–or at least that much of him–and if they had just fucking brought in Brainiac, maybe things would have turned out much differently.
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However, in this entry, Henry Cavill, and Superman / Clark Kent, seem to find comfort, footing, gravitas, and most importantly, a certain sense of wry humor. Supporting character or not, Superman may have finally found his rightful place in this era.
My film critic colleagues seem hell bent on smashing and bashing, but time will be kinder once the zeitgeist of the 2010s is history. This film will be regularly re-streamed online yet kept a guilty secret like pr0n, and the douche-y bourgeoisie will undoubtedly be using the R-rated Blu-ray to show off the abilities of their new curved 4K televisions once they’re done uploading pics of their 1% dinner.
In a post-Nolan world, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice is finally the DC Comics movie we needed from the under-rated bang bang stylistics of Zack Snyder. And whether we are aware of it or not, it is also the one we very much deserve.
Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice is now playing in theaters everywhere.
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12
Dec
15

In the Heart of the Sea: A Whale of an OK Time

He ain't much help without a magic hammer.

He ain’t much help without a magic hammer.

In the Heart of the Sea, based on Nathaniel Philbrick’s non-fiction book documenting the events that inspired Moby-Dick, totally needed more big fish-on-man action. What we end up with is a rather sentimental shipwreck movie with one very aggressive, but elusive, sperm whale.

Chris Hemsworth is mighty and heroic with the ocean air whipping through his blond locks. Tom Holland, as the ship’s youngest crew mate, looks frightened most of the time; nothing here indicates whether or not he shall make a good Spider-Man/Peter Parker. Ben Whishaw (Q from the 007 movies) plays Herman Melville himself, who is interviewing a survivor of the ill-fated Essex, the ship upon which the notorious events took place. (The main story is told in flashback.) Cillian Murphy is…
*sigh*
I just can’t seem to muster the energy to write more about the cast.
The real stars here seem to be the ropes that makes up the ship’s elaborate rigging, raising and lowering its massive flapping sails. There are also tons of loving shots of taut cord stretching up into the sunlight and violently unspooling when taken out by a harpooned whale.
The folks in The Perfect Storm never had to deal with this!

The folks in The Perfect Storm never had to deal with this!

Second place goes to the whale, Moby-Dick himself. (Or herself.) (Well, he’s not exactly Moby-Dick here yet, but simply a sperm whale with a bad skin condition and a serious hard-on for killing humans. Melville will eventually name the leviathan but… Oh screw, you know what I mean.)
We don’t get much actual screen time of the whale, just mostly frames of a large dark gray mass moving in the water. Occasionally there’s a fin or an eyeball, and a few scenes of tail, but all the beast’s imposing majesty is portrayed via the cast’s frightened faces or Roque Banos’s loud, foreboding music score. For once, we aren’t barraged with enough blockbuster CGI creature porn. One can probably see better whale footage everyday on their Facebook feed. (And viewing this film in 3-D is not worth it. If anything, there’s just a lot of splashing sea water coming at you.)
A rare photo of Chris Hemsworth wearing a shirt.

A rare photo of Chris Hemsworth wearing a shirt.

There’s a great moment straight out of Melville’s novel (and probably Philbrick’s book as well) that shows us the nasty, penetrative method for collecting whale oil. And as for the scenes involving cannibalism after the sailors abandon the Essex, for better or worse, we don’t exactly see anyone chowing down on…anyone; it’s basically Life of Pi minus the tiger.
Ron Howard‘s direction has a curious lack of epic-ness but, as his wont, a heavy hand is used with meaningful glances and characters taking forever while saying farewell to one another. The one subtlety Howard employs is a certain restraint regarding the contemporary condemnation on the slaughter of whales. There is an appropriate mournfulness to the killing sequence that should shame the Japanese as well as Sea World supporters. But on its own merits, In the Heart of the Sea isn’t much of a movie without its literary origins. Melville fans are probably better off tackling their favorite fishing tale again.
In the Heart of the Sea is now playing in theaters everywhere.
24
Nov
15

Creed Review: Gonna Fly Again

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Adonis Creed: Last seen hitting head against wall mumbling the lyrics to Adele’s “Hello”.

No, Creed is not the long-awaited biopic of the 00s Christian rock band who did “With Arms Wide Open.” It is the seventh film in the Rocky series and is genuinely the most fun movie experience this year since Jurassic World.
This film focuses on Adonis Creed, son of Rocky’s deceased opponent turned BFF Apollo Creed. Who knew he even had a kid?! Well, turns out our eyes weren’t deceiving us in the previous movies. Apparently Creed had an affair outside of his marriage and the result was Adonis. After the boy’s birth mother dies, Creed’s widow (Phylicia Rashad) is nice enough to take the troubled child in. It probably didn’t help that he was named after a Greek God. No pressure.
Adonis grows into Michael B. Jordan and with the eye of the tiger roaring in him, he moves to Philadelphia to find his late father’s buddy Rocky to train him in the ways of boxing. The fragile, reluctant Balboa is eventually convinced to get back in the ring for his “nephew” and in the funny ways of luck these movies’ plots hinge on, Adonis is promptly signed to a high profile fight as the underdog against a vicious, more seasoned champion. With everything stacked against him, how can he possibly win? And how do the press conferences in these flicks get so wildly out of control?
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You better stop playing that Adele song.

It feels like familiar territory, especially since Stallone used the nostalgia trip motifs previously in Rocky Balboa (the sixth Rocky movie). He basically acts out the same screenplay here: Balboa runs a restaurant, mourns his deceased loved ones and just seems to be biding his remaining days, but still, he’s hungry. Somehow this all feels fresh, mostly thanks to the curious case of Michael B. Jordan.
Fantastic Four was not his fault. Yes, he was an uninteresting Human Touch, but no one in that movie had a chance of being interesting. Here though, he commands screen presence, fulfilling everything that pulled us into his orbit in Fruitvale Station. He’s emotionally raw, muscularly shouldered, and seems to have all the right dangerous moves in the ring. He doesn’t exactly jog up those famous museum steps but he does run hard along his own street version of the scene, and by the time he raises his arms in training victory, we’re cheering along with him. Maybe he’ll have another chance to be a superhero someday.
And speaking of Fruitvale Station, director Ryan Coogler does a riveting job here. The material isn’t as socially significant as his aforementioned debut feature but he manages to put his own stamp on such a marked franchise, much like what Sam Mendes did with the 007 movies in Skyfall. There are long, intimate tracking shots (one that lasts two entire boxing rounds), and fight cards that flash onto the screen like a video game whenever an opponent materializes. Coupled with his provocative scenes of quiet drama, Coogler is going to have an amazing career. No wonder he’s on the list for Marvel’s Black Panther.
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Someone play that Adele song again? Aim low.

Stallone doesn’t grandstand here. He falls into his beaten down, wizened supporting role with an irresistible sense of grace and self-deprecation as he mumbles out nuggets of his warrior’s code. “This guy here, that’s the toughest opponent you’re gonna hafta face.” Of course, Stallone is pointing into a mirror.
Tessa Thompson plays Adonis’s musically inclined love interest with a smooth dignity and she’s a dead ringer for Lisa Bonet. Also Cosby related is Phylicia Rashad, who makes the most out of her too-brief scenes in the film that mostly require her to look very worried. As for the main bad guy… Actually I don’t really remember the guy Creed finally fights, but then maybe that’s not entirely bad. During Stallone’s Decadent Era, Rocky’s opponents basically became colorful superhuman villains.
If anything, the music leaves a bit to be desired. The score is heavy on the hip-hop and although we finally get to hear a few scant strains of “Gonna Fly Now,” the bars of Bill Conti’s iconic theme song is sorely missed.
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Yo Rock, I can still hear that Adele song.

Even without the themes, Creed is unexpectedly exciting and inspiring enough to rouse applause by the jabs of the final round. It’s duly-abled manipulation with visceral physical human combat, but it does the job good, especially in these antiseptic, inhuman, CGI-bludgeoned times. Unlike the dourness of The Hunger Games, after this movie you leave the theater with a… Well… A burning heart and the unmistakable fire.
Creed is now playing in theaters everywhere.
13
Oct
15

Review: San Andreas – The Fault is Not in Our Stars

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After seeing him flex his broken arm to break off his cast in Furious 7, I’m really no longer sure what to make of Dwayne Johnson whenever I see him in a movie. It’s a bit like seeing a cartoon character like the Tasmanian Devil take the lead in The Day After Tomorrow.

Case in point, Johnson’s latest summer tentpole, San Andreas. Even the trailers were hard to take seriously. (And adding worse to wear, how the hell did Roland Emmerich NOT direct this movie?!) With special effects that look straight out of Adobe Photoshop, it’s difficult not to surmise that we were in some sort of strange holding pattern earlier this summer, just waiting for Jurassic World and Terminator Genisys. And Ant-Man. And in a car crash-kinda way, Fantastic Four.

The Big One hits California and everything falls apart. (Isn’t it odd how this summer movie season was pre-occupied with humanity’s extinction? Avengers? Mad Max? Tomorrowland? Not to mention that Terminator flick. The kids are gonna have nightmares about their mortality. Perhaps that’s the point? Make the world a better place while there’s still time? Man in the mirror?)

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Dwayne Johnson plays a fire and rescue worker with one mission: to save his wife (Carla Gugino) and then his daughter (Alexandra Daddario). They all act properly panicked and anxiety ridden. Paul Giamatti is a scientist who predicts the giant earthquake and when he realizes how bad the devastation will be, someone asks him who they should call. The camera zooms in and with a straight face he says, “EVERYBODY!”

Yeah, it’s that kind of disaster flick. But the fault really isn’t in our stars for once. (Get it? San Andreas? Fault? Oh never mind.) Speaking of the fault itself, armchair scientists are going to have a field day spotting all the logistical inconsistencies and have the most fun doing it since Gravity. “Oh that couldn’t happen. Oh that couldn’t happen either!” Colton Haynes from Arrow, who was only in the first five minutes of this movie, showed up to the premiere in a completely pink suit. That happened. So really, who is to question what madness lies deep in the crevices of this production?

Surprisingly, for the mainland, there’s very little looting going on. Just one scene in a hick-ish town outside the urban proper. What’s really troubling is when an elderly couple on the side of the road with a broken axle yells at Johnson and Gugino to stop and pull over. They keep going and almost drive over a chasm. Only then do they turn back and offer their gratitude. But it works out for them because that elderly couple happens to own an aviation yard with one working plane.

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Later the couple motor boat through the tsunami-ed waters of San Francisco. (I gave up counting when Johnson stole his third undamaged vehicle.) They see people drifting around in random boats and debris, but they keep going. In fact, the only time Johnson the professional rescue workers actually offers help is to yell a whole bunch of people to the safety of AT&T Park. But he probably only did that because wifey was gonna get smooshed by a falling building as well.

But one isn’t here to debate the morals of San Andreas. At least I hope not. That would result in a web article longer than what Chris Hemsworth is packing in the red band Vacation trailer.

Oddly, for once the 3-D here is surprisingly effective and present. Most often in simple scenes where actors are in both the foreground and the background, and especially during a canyon helicopter rescue that opens the movie. Oddly not so much when skyscrapers crumble, cable bridges twist and come undone, and helpless people get splatted by huge chunks of rubble. After Avengers (both of them), if you’ve seen one building crumble, you’ve seen them all crumble.

San Andreas made over $150 million dollars at the domestic box office. I feel like Paul Giamatti. Perhaps you will listen to my warnings and make the proper preparations to see Mad Max: Fury Road again. And who should you take with you? EVERYBODY!

San Andreas is now available to own on Blu-Ray, DVD, and digital download.

22
May
15

Review: Tomorrow! You’re Only a $10 Pin Away!

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After the CGI douche-theatrics of Furious 7, the pop spectacle of Avengers: Age of Ultron, and the riveting post-apocalyptic reality-based pyrokinetics of Mad Max: Fury Road, the arrival of Tomorrowland seems at its best, quaint. But at its worst, underwhelming and obvious.

Perhaps the lack of surprise and/or the intensity of its sense of adventure is because, bottom line, Disney has made a film for kids. (Vaccinated) kids who will pester their parents to take them to see the real Tomorrowland. The marketing genius even shows in what is likely to be the most easily attainable movie tie-in toy—a lapel pin that gives our heroine a glimpse of Tomorrowland, emblazoned with the letter “T”, approximately $10 on Amazon and perfect for sticking on the outside of a school backpack.

In the film itself, we get flying jetpacks, cute but effectively deadly robots, a gloriously tech-booby-trapped house, and a new use for the Eiffel Tower, but it’s all so blah since there’s no infinity stones involved. Nothing in the conflict quite feels truly at stake. Tomorrowland itself, white and shiny, kinda looks like an Apple store without the employees in t-shirts. This magical realm is actually a parallel universe/dimension/thing where all humanity’s best and brightest gather to nurture great ideas and create and imagine unimaginable feats of technology. A lot of marijuana smoking probably goes on behind closed doors.

“Throw me the fast pass, I throw you the pin!”

Hugh Laurie is on hand as the villain who wants to destroy the “real” Earth since it’s basically destroying itself anyway. That kind of megalomania seems a bit excessive since he’s in charge of the most perfect place in existence anyway but whatever. A plot to revive Walt Disney’s cryogenically frozen body would have been cooler.

Sadly, this may be Brad Bird’s most uninspired movie yet. After his live-action debut with Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol and especially his animated efforts, The Iron Giant and The Incredibles, somehow, we just expect more from him. The action scenes aren’t particularly exciting or witty; nothing seems to stay in the memory and the biggest let-down, we catch a glimpse of Space Mountain in the skyline but we don’t get to experience it. (Instead we get It’s a Small World. Don’t ask.) Wouldn’t it have been great if our heroes were trapped in a vehicle chase inside Space Mountain and then everything shuts down and the lights go on and you’re just looking at steel girders? Sorry. I’m still bitter how a certain incident during a childhood vacation ruined the illusion.

This pin? Ten bucks?

This pin? Ten bucks?

And we expect more from George Clooney too, and here, as a genius who was exiled from Tomorrowland a long time ago, he just seems to be going through the rumply, crankily charming motions. Feminists and Black Widow-Gate/Supergirl-Gate conspirators should be thrilled “the chosen one” for the planet’s future is a plucky teen girl, played by Britt Robertson, who is probably fielding offers for a young adult film adaptation at this very moment. The real casting find though is Raffey Cassidy as a young Tomorrowland android that protects the heroic humans and has a genuinely poignant backstory with Clooney’s character. She’s like the Terminator, but little.

At Tomorrowland’s gleaming, wanna-be vintage heart, there is an old-fashioned (too) strong message about going green, saving the environment and how the children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way. With $10 pins. Barf.

Tomorrowland is now playing in theaters everywhere.

19
Mar
15

Insurgent Review: Detergent

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There’s nothing all that wrong with Insurgent. It’s actually a somewhat competent sequel in the Divergent series that doesn’t suffer middle chapter syndrome: there’s some action and the storyline moves. It’s just that… What were we talking about again?

Oh. And there you go.

Somehow, Insurgent is just not memorable. We’ve seen all of this before in Twilight, The Hunger Games, Mortal Instruments, Beautiful Creatures, The Maze Runner, The Running Man, and of course, Battle Royale. And by now, unless the young adult book adaptation movies do something drastic with their female heroines and post-apocalypse imaginings (or lack thereof), the genre is just about as burnt-out as the landscape in Mad Max.

In fact, I can barely bring myself to re-cap the last film, much less do a synopsis for this one. Frankly, I completely forgot Divergent and actually had to rent the film to watch again the night before the screening of its sequel. And once the lights went down and the screen lit up, I still did not have total recall. And no, I wasn’t drunk.

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Here’s my best try: In the future, to keep the peace, a walled city kinda like the one in Attack on Titan or Mega City One in Dredd is broken into five factions of society. Or was it seven? I’m too lazy to look it up so we’ll just go with five, yes, five factions. Our heroine Tris, used to belong to the self-less, government-ruling Abnegation but when she hit puberty, she decided to join Dauntless, a group in charge of policing the city and they like to hoot and holler, get tattoos and run around a lot.

Oh, and Tris took a test that revealed she is a Divergent—she can fit into more than one faction. So by the first movie’s end, Tris’s parents died, and she, her brother Caleb, her new boyfriend Four, Four’s abusive father, and a kidnapped member of Dauntless played by Miles Teller are on the run. The new film opens with them taking shelter in Amity, a faction devoted to peace and love. Actually, I’m not sure what the difference is between Amity and Abnegation except Amity seems more hare krishna-like because they offer good tidings when they give you your plate at the buffet line.

You know, this is actually really (too) complicated. I forgot to mention Kate Winslet, leader of the smart people, Erudite, who wants to rule the city like Donald Sutherland in The Hunger Games. She needs Tris to unlock this box that looks like the Tesseract from The Avengers. Once unlocked, the box will reveal some sort of big thing. This all takes place in this room with tentacles that stab into Tris like the ones from The Matrix and Tris enters this simulation like the one in The Matrix and she does all these tasks and things explode slowly in a nice computer-y way like The Matrix and…

What were we talking about again?

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I just don’t wanna type anymore. I’m tired. The actors, Buddha bless them, don’t seem to mind relentless cinematic thievery though. Teller plays the ruthless, kidnapped Dauntless baddie Peter with the proper sense of bullying and self-loathing. Ansel Elgort plays Tris’s conflicted brother Caleb. And Shailene Woodley plays Tris with a determined ambition to not be pegged as a Jennifer Lawrence wanna-be. (Interestingly enough, Woodley slept with Teller in The Spectacular Now. She also slept with Elgort in The Fault in Our Stars. At this rate, by the end of the decade, at least on screen, Woodley could possibly sleep with the rest of the series’ male cast.)

Oh and everybody in the theater squealed when Daniel Dae Kim popped up as the leader of Erudite. He conducted himself with great dignity. (Does anybody still watch Hawaii Five-0? Oh wait yeah…my mom.)

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I think we’ve come to the point where we must simply acknowledge that these films were made from books that were made for young adults. Particularly young adults who haven’t seen many other movies. I think I’ll stop here. I’m tired of writing about it and to paraphrase the wise words imparted by Taylor Swift, I should just shake it off.

One more thing. They’re also planning to split the final book in the series, Allegiant, into two movies. Like Harry Potter. And The Hunger Games.

I’m trying to just breathe and relax. And shake it off.

Insurgent is now playing in theaters everywhere.

06
Feb
15

Jupiter Ascending Review: The Wachowskis Descending

"Is it just me or is the left shark out of sync?"

“Is it just me or is the left shark out of sync?”

Jupiter Ascending is the latest sci-fi, CGI-filled behemoth from the Wachowskis and sadly, it is their most uninspired effort yet.

One way or another, you still gotta give it up to the sibling writers/directors. From Bound to Cloud Atlas, they’ve dedicated themselves to trying to show us something neato on the screen. Even their unfairly reviled entries, The Matrix Revolutions and Speed Racer, are overly-knocked on bits of screen sumptuousness; in this video game era, they still manage to give us pretty things. If anything, they range from a bit derivative to very derivative, but then again, at this point with big budget studio popcorners, who isn’t? Yet, as fascinating as Jupiter is to occasionally look at, it is obvious that we have seen everything before and for once, the Wachowskis have managed to rip off even themselves.

Mila Kunis is Jupiter, a hard-working janitor who wishes for something greater. She’s also the most beautiful performer to ever be filmed scrubbing a toilet. One day, her cousin comes up with a scheme to sell her eggs and while in the operating room, she discovers aliens are trying to kill her.

"I shall declare this the House of Strep Throat."

“I shall declare this the House of Strep Throat.”

Luckily, Channing Tatum, a human/werewolf soldier of fortune hybrid, comes roller-blading in on anti-gravity boots and spirits her away to his ex-collegue Stinger’s safehouse. (Stinger is played by Sean Bean, who instantly makes us worry for his character’s life.) Soon Jupiter discovers that she is the genetic reincarnation of universal royalty and that there is a whole new world (or worlds) other than our own. Faster than you can say “Neo-Morpheus,” she finds herself in space, trapped between three competing siblings who all what to use her to continue their reins of power, along with their mysterious immortality. (The secret of their longevity is also the second major plot point the Wachowskis rip off from themselves.)

At this point, we are just left with watching the pretty, shape-shifting spaceships firing at each other as well as Tatum flying around shooting and stabbing various beings ranging from simple humans, giant bipedal komodo dragons straight out of Halo, and little green men who look like vicious extras from Close Encounters. (Incidentally, for a movie that looks so pretty, Tatum’s waist seems a bit puffy. Perhaps he was in some sort of “bulking” phase for Magic Mike XXL.)

Gleaming the cube!

Gleaming the cube!

Best Actor Oscar nominee Eddie Redmayne (The Theory of Everything) plays one of the villainous monarchs and he speaks with a whisper and occasional scream that is more goofy than threatening. And there’s also these anti-gravity boots that move like roller-blades which— Oops. That’s been mentioned already.

Actually there really isn’t anything else worth mentioning about Jupiter Ascending. No wonder it was released in February. For their next project, the Wachowskis should work with a script of adapted material. They seem to do better ripping other people off and that would just cut out the middle man.

Jupiter Ascending is now playing in theaters everywhere.