Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

Director: Ryan Coogler
Starring: Letitia Wright, Lupita Nyong'o, Danai Gurira, Winston Duke, Angela Bassett, Florence Kasumba, Dominique Thorne, Michaela Coel, José Tenoch Huerta Mejía, Martin Freeman, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Michael B. Jordan
Running Time: 161 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

It's usually a bad sign when a sequel gets released and you find yourself struggling to remember all that happened in the previous film. But in the case of Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, that might not be be such a bad thing considering how much this revolves around starting over. While the original came out in 2018, it may as well have been decades ago given all the speculation surrounding how Marvel Studios and director/co-writer Ryan Coogler would push the the franchise forward after star Chadwick Boseman's tragic passing. Just the idea of continuing seemed crazy given how much that movie's success rested entirely on his shoulders. Of course, we always knew they'd just forge ahead and do it anyway. But if it's true that the superhero genre isn't dependent on actors or stars for success, this could stand as the toughest test yet.

Moving past the initial uproar of someone else potentially "replacing" Boseman, the key was always in not making it feel that way by honoring his legacy. It's a difficult line to walk, but luckily the franchise's overarching themes and tone do make this slightly less challenging. Marvel was never going to put the series on the shelf, but it's better to do it now while the responsibility of doing right by Boseman, his family and fans hang over them. So it comes as a relief that Coogler accomplishes this by crafting a story feels like a natural progression for the universe and its characters. Realizing the best approach is often the honest one, everything springs from that cataclysmic loss, resulting in one of the more un-Marvel like movies in their canon.

After failing to save her terminally ill brother King T'Challa from a mysterious illness with the heart shaped herb, Shuri (Letitia Wright) and all of Wakanda mourn him, including his mother, Queen Ramonda (Angela Bassett). A year later Wakanda is now facing pressure from other nations to share their vibranium, soon finding themselves under attack for the resource. But when the U.S. military utilize a vibranium detector to locate a potential supply underwater, they're violently thwarted by a group of blue-skinned, water breathing Talokans led by Namor (José Tenoch Huerta Mejía). 

With the CIA inaccurately blaming Wakanda for the attack, Ramonda and Shuri are paid a visit by Namor who demands they bring him the scientist responsible for building the detector or he'll attack their nation. But once Shuri and Okoye (Danai Gurira) confront the scientist, an MIT student named Riri Williams (Dominique Thorne), chaos ensues. With Namor holding Wakanda responsible for the vibranium battle and determined to wage war on the surface world to protect Talokan, Shuri's faced with a choice: join him or suffer the consequences.

A prologue covering the death and funeral of T'Challa makes abundantly clear the challenge Wakandans will face without their king. It's only logical the story would now shift to his sister Shuri, and whatever controversy surrounded Letitia Wright's continued involvement with the franchise, she delivers as the film's centerpiece. If increasing her character's importance was the right call from a narrative standpoint, nearly all of Wakanda's universe is also expanded here, allowing others to shine in ways they couldn't in the preceding entry. So while it's difficult for anything to compete with the personal stakes of T'Challa vs. Killmonger, this next chapter avoids direct comparisons, as Coogler and co-writer Joe Robert Cole present a fresh set of obstacles, using elements from the original film as their blueprint. 

A commanding Angela Bassett is given a much bigger stage as Ramonda, conveying the character's pain of losing a son, protecting her only daughter and keeping Wakanda safe from outside forces. It's just unfortunate that the blue-skinned, indigenous, water breathing Talokans and colonization plot will likely draw endless Avatar comparisons because this story holds up pretty well on its own. Keeping the focus where it belongs, Shuri's torn between spirituality and science, this time with an angrier edge due to her brother's death. The eventual feud with Namor is more complex than expected since he's not exactly a one-dimensional villain, just as driven by the need to protect his people as Shuri, but utilizing dangerously aggressive, gatekeeping methods that lead to all out war. 

Lupita Nyong'o's stealthily skilled Nakia is in a far different place both literally and figuratively, with the actress given more to do this time around, reentering the fray with a renewed outlook and motivation following T'Challa's death. Dominque Thorne makes for a spunky sidekick as Riri, with the young genius from Chicago serving as a clever counterpart to Shuri while playing a vital role as the plot progresses. Martin Freeman and Julia Louis-Dreyfus have limited but functional roles as CIA operatives tied to the vibranium conflict, providing some fun interplay between some of the heavier action scenes.

With Namor believing a weakened Wakanda is ripe for the picking now that Black Panther is gone, someone else donning T'Challa's suit becomes as inevitable as the person who needs to do it. Coogler handles this as well as possible, leading to an ending that leaves enough on the table for future installments. The only caveat is that after a surprisingly enthralling two and a half hours, we still get a requisite CGI battle to close things out. But even that plays unusually well, thanks in no small part to the attachment we have to these characters. It's also one the rare times a Marvel mid-credits scene feels essential, serving this saga rather than potential cross-overs. That makes sense since the original film's biggest attribute was standing out from the pack. As a purposeful continuation that respectfully keeps the ball rolling, Wakanda Forever stays true to that, while also managing to navigate some emotionally difficult terrain.      

Us

Director: Jordan Peele
Starring: Lupita Nyong'o, Winston Duke, Elisabeth Moss, Tim Heidecker, Shahadi Wright Joseph, Madison Curry, Evan Alex, Ashley McKoy 
Running Time: 116 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Fittingly, Jordan Peele's Us begins with a prologue centered around one of the most frightening experiences that can happen when you're a child: Getting lost. Whether it's ten minutes or two hours, there's s very real sense of helplessness as a series of worst case scenarios start racing through the mind. Peele must be the first filmmaker to shoot a sequence like this with a clear understanding of those stakes and ability to fully convey them to the audience. We literally feel how petrified, yet strangely curious and excited this little girl is about the unfamiliar surroundings she finds herself in, and the uncertainty of whether she'll ever get back. It isn't until later that we realize the magnitude of this event and its far-reaching consequences, but not only for her. And with all the clues waiting to be deciphered and play out in the film's remaining length, Peele answers the question of whether he's capable of following up Get Out by delivering an effort that somehow feels even more ambitious and thought-provoking.

As the latest to affix his name to a Twilight Zone reboot, it may seem easier than ever for some to level the criticism, that as writer and director, Peele's "merely" churning out modern feature length versions of those episodes. But as anyone who's actually seen the original series could attest, that's a pretty high compliment. Layering his story with scathing social commentary sure to draw Get Out comparisons, this plays more subtly, requiring some work from its audience, and possibly multiple viewings, to fully absorb all of its ideas.

You could probably compose a solid list of Peele's influences here, ranging from The Shining to The Strangers to Funny Games to Black Swan, even as this creation seems to bare very little resemblance to any of them, at least narratively. But more importantly, it's scary. In fact, it's the first horror film in a long while that earns that label, taking a classic doppelgänger premise and flipping it on its head, subverting expectations in ways that likely would have earned the approval of Rod Serling himself. 

It's 1986 when young Adelaide Thomas (a revelatory Madison Curry) goes with her parents on vacation to Santa Cruz, but with her father distracted, she wanders off alone at night on the boardwalk before arriving at a desolate fun house on the beach. In it, she's confronted with a hall of mirrors and a double of herself who most definitely isn't a reflection. Eventually found by her parents, Adelaide is left traumatized by the encounter, unable to speak and possibly facing years of therapy sessions due to whatever may have occurred in those fifteen minutes.

Flash forward to present-day California and Adelaide (Lupita Nyong'o) is seemingly recovered, but reluctant to go to the family's Santa Cruz lake house with husband Gabe Wilson (Winston Duke) and their two kids, Zora (Shahadi Wright Joseph) and Jason (Evan Alex). But fear and trepidation really kicks in when they all head to the beach to meet up with their wealthy friends the Tylers, Josh (Tim Heidecker) and Kitty (Elisabeth Moss).

Shaken by their beach outing, Adelaide returns to the house with her family, only to soon discover mysterious, threatening visitors standing in their driveway staring them down. A closer look reveals the shadowed foursome in red to be their physical counterparts despite acting, speaking and even looking differently from them. They're evil, but what they want and why they're here now is anyone's guess, as is their relationship to the event that shook Adelaide to her core as a small child. It's immediately clear the Wilsons will have to fight for their lives against intruders who believe everything is theirs for the taking. 

The idea that if there's an "us" there has to be a "them" is the foundation on which Peele's story is built. Wherever there are "haves," there are also"have nots," and sometimes the reasons as to how people find themselves in those positions boil down to pure chance and circumstance. Or do they? Life may not be fair, but the questions presented end up having more to do with whether it's truly the luck of the draw or society's collective ignorance causing that, or possibly a combination of both. Revealing any more would risk spoiling the surprises Peele's cooked up, or the tremendous technical expertise with which he delivers them, in the process creating an unmistakable sense of time, mood and atmosphere.

Opening in a 1986 Peele doesn't feel the need to advertise with posters, hit songs or crazy wardrobe choices because he's more interested in replicating a feeling and memory of that era, a commercial for the failed and mostly forgotten "Hands Across America" campaign against hunger airs on a retro TV set. We know it means something because it all does, including and a creepy title sequence featuring a myriad of rabbits, the first pieces of a puzzle that will slowly come together by film's end.

The present-day home invasion scenes are the closest the movie comes to traditional horror, with Peele milking a moment or scene to find as much fear in the tension of what will happen than what eventually does. Prior to this, the idea of of actors playing two different versions of their characters in a scene would be considered a stunt or digital distraction, but it's pulled off so seamlessly here that the idea of that isn't even given a second thought when they appear.

Taking full advantage of playing what amounts to twisted mirror versions of their characters, it's the award-worthy Nyong'o as "Red" who makes the strongest impression, employing a deep, demonic voice that any other actress probably couldn't pull off without invoking giggles. But it's as Adelaide that she does most of the film's heavy lifting in conveying the emotional trauma that still very much haunts her, as well as the fight and determination that kicks in when it comes time to protect her family from this inexplicable outside force with motives well beyond their complete comprehension.

Playing characters both physically threatening and psychologically unhinged, Winston Duke, Shahadi Wright Joseph and Evan Alex each bring something entirely different to the table as their evil counterparts, with personaities and ticks that hint at a shared history, and the anger at being denied a better life, perhaps through no fault of their own. Despite more limited screen time, Elisabeth Moss and Tim Heidecker's work as Adelaide's snotty friends cuts to the bone of the film's themes, as an extended invasion sequence carrying echoes of A Clockwork Orange puts those characters' purposes front and center, exposing their ugliness in all its hideous and hilarious glory. Moss is particularly creepy throughout, but if ever there's an overlooked contributor, it's composer Michael Abels, whose eerie, hypnotizing score couldn't possibly provide a better backdrop or scene companion for the unfolding atrocity.

Following that centerpiece sequence, the film's focus shifts toward grappling with the larger issues, as Peele places himself in the unenviable position of having to pull back the curtain and deliver a dreaded exposition dump. And it's just about as satisfying a one as you'll see, begging for further analysis and repeated viewings. At some point, there needs to be an explanation, even if it leads to more questions. But the really big ones need answering. Who are they? Why are they here? How did it start?

Most filmmakers would buckle under the weight of having to connect the dots and deliver on the highest of expectations. Instead, Peele doubles down with a shocking reveal that urges viewers to rethink everything that came before. Not in terms of plot, but ideas and philosophy.  It isn't the clean conclusion viewers think they want, but it is a justifiably complicated one, beautifully showing more than it could ever tell. With Us, Peele proves himself much more than a one-hit wonder, forcing us to reasses our own allegiances as we stare directly into the face of humanity's ills.

Non-Stop

Director: Jaume Collet-Serra
Starring: Liam Neeson, Julianne Moore, Michelle Dockery, Nate Parker, Linus Roache, Scoot McNairy, Corey Stoll, Lupita Nyong'o, Anson Mount, Shea Whigham
Running Time: 106 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)
 
"Taken on a plane." That was the most popular description being thrown around for the Liam Neeson action thriller Non-Stop after getting a glimpse of its trailer. No one is kidnapped in the movie, unless you count the 145 passengers held captive aboard a non-stop Boening flight from New York to London by a crazed, anonymous hijacker, but I get the comparison. It does feature the actor in yet another ass-kicking action outing, in this case one of his most enjoyable yet. But what's so remarkable is that on paper the plot is far sillier and more prepostrous than that of both Takens, Unknown and The A-Team combined. And that doesn't matter one bit. In fact, it works to its benefit. The whole thing plays more like Clue or Scream with just a dash of Speed and Flight Plan thrown in for seasoning. So few action movies are capable of gluing you to your seat that when the rare one comes along that does, it's impossible to pick apart the little details that eventually become irrelevant in the face of such mind-blowing fun.

Neeson is Bill Marks, an alcoholic U.S. air marshal and former police officer aboard British Aqualantic Flight 10 who starts receiving text messages on his phone midway through the flight that someone will die on the plane every 20 minutes unless $150 million is transferred into an unspecified bank account. With the help of the other air marshal on the flight, Hammond (Anson Mount), sympathetic passenger Jen Summers (Julianne Moore) the pilots and flight attendant Nancy (Michelle Dockery), he must vet all the passengers and crew to determine who's texting him and threatening the lives of those on board. As the clues pile up and his interrogation tactics become more volatile, Bill starts to realize the perpetrator has set up most of those clues to point in his direction, with a checkered past and troubled present making him the primary suspect. At odds with the TSA and most of the passengers and crew, the clock is rapidly ticking to uncover the mystery hijacker who's plan is more involved than Bill, or anyone else on board, could have suspected.

What's most surprising is how well the film uses modern technology to set up and pay off the story. You'd figure few modes of communication would be more cinematically uninteresting than texting, especially in an action thriller. But director Juame Collet-Serra makes clever use of it, as Bill must use every resource at his disposal to determine which passengers are sending texts when he's receiving them. While we've already seen quite a few movies and TV shows incorporate texting into the narrative, this plot hinges on it and the visual representation of the messaging onscreen is a step above the usual and never bores. As someone who's not a fan of the technology and worries it will date every movie in which it appears, this was a pleasant surprise. The actual murders are also handled in an inspired way that has the viewer on edge guessing the means and methods by which the next unsuspecting passenger or crew member will meet their eventual demise.

In an unusual occurrence for this genre, you can actually claim "everyone's a suspect" and mean it, as it's deliriously fun seeing just how far the screenplay pushes that notion. Even before the plane takes off we're given passing glimpses of the passengers and crew boarding the flight, with subtle hints dropped as to the likelihood of them being this mystery terrorist just based on their personalities. Aside from big stars Neeson and Moore, most of the cast is peppered with talented character actors, any of whom could be playing the perpetrator. Because each slide so easily slide into their roles, our suspicions waver by the minute. There's Anson Mount as the air marshal clearly hiding something, Michelle Dockery as the determined and resilient flight attendant, Corey Stoll as an angry cop and Scoot McNairy as a nerdy, bespeckled schoolteacher who could easily double for Weezer frontman Rivers Cuomo. Recent Oscar winner Lupita Nyong'o has a tiny role as another flight attendant, providing a sobering look at the direction her career could have gone had she not been cast in 12 Years a Slave.

Setting this apart from most of the other Neeson action vehicles is the claustrophobic location of a commercial airplane. One of the biggest thrills is seeing a towering Neeson squeeze through the aisles manhandling passengers, any one of which could be the hijacker. And that includes him. I was sure from the start exactly who it would be only to find that when the reveal came, I couldn't have been more wrong. Many more will have the same experience, as their identity is very well protected right up until the final moments, at which point the movie does start to resemble something closer to Taken, or more accurately, Die Hard. Even still, all of this is handled exceptionally well. How favorably viewers judge the eventual outcome and the clues leading up to it will ultimately determine how much rewatch value it contains. As we know, movies like this go down like a great Big Mac at the time, but aren't frequently revisited later.  

Audiences got it right by embracing a smart action movie with an ingenious set-up, and barring a few hiccups, just as clever an execution. Carrying it all is the authoritative Neeson, who further solidifies his status as maybe the only believable action star we have. When he says or does something, you know it's true and it's time to get down to business. There's a lot of potential absurdity to sell and he gets away with all of it, turning our attention to a compelling aviation mystery milked for all the suspense it's worth.
                           

Burning Questions from the 2014 Academy Awards

Does it speak to my interest in this year's telecast that I didn't bother watching any of the red carpet show?

Even just to laugh at it?

Wait, Jennifer Lawrence fell...again?

Wasn't it a relief not to open the show with a tiresome musical number?

After getting too many of them in recent years, wasn't the absence of musical numbers entirely a relief?

How long before people start complaining they want Seth MacFarlane back?

Is anyone ever going to cut the Oscar host a break?

Isn't it really a thankless job?

How about that Liza Minnelli joke?

Wasn't Jennifer Lawrence a great sport?

Aren't her facial reactions great?

Wasn't the Jonah Hill joke funny?
 
Didn't Ellen do a good job of keeping the monologue short and sweet?

Don't you wish the rest of the show moved as rapidly?

All things considered, didn't she open this pretty well?

Would you have guessed his win would be the first of many, many appearances Jared Leto would make throughout the night?

How about Pharrell's hat?

Was it really wise of me to assume the Academy would give makeup to a film titled, "Jackass Presents: Bad Grandpa?"

Could Harrison Ford come off any grumpier and bored if he tried?

Wouldn't JGL and Emma Watson make a good on-screen couple?

Wait... Kim Novak?!

Does it look like maybe she's had a little work done?

When she came out with McConaughey did you think she was the Yellow King?

Does Gravity insure that everyone will at least correctly predict every technical category?

Why does it look weird seeing U2 performing at the Oscars?

But isn't it nice having actual performances of the nominated songs again?

Does anyone miss dopey musical numbers that would have taken its place?

Did you notice Jared Leto inviting himself into the selfie?

Did you catch Liza Minnelli trying and failing to squeeze in?

Was it just not her night?

Don't we love her anyway since she's Lucille Austero?

Given her recurring vertigo, would she have been a better choice to present with Kim Novak?

Does someone saying they're going to make something the most "retweeted ever" just make you not want to reweet it?

Am I contributing to that epidemic by reposting it above?

Was there really any doubt which photo I'd use?

Does Kevin Spacey win the Oscar for Best photobomb?

Shouldn't he host the show next year...as Frank Underwood?

Michael B. Jordan and Kristen B. Ell?

Can you believe Christoph Waltz is already a two-time Supporting Actor winner?

For the same role?

Was Lupita Nyong'o's acceptance speech on of the few memorably emotional ones in recent years?

Was seeing all these stars deciding on pizza funnier than it had any right being?

Didn't Ellen really commit to that entire bit in an admirable way?

Do we now know the only thing that makes Harrison Ford smile?

Did the whole pizza bit work because it actually looked like everyone was having fun at this event for a change?

Did you see how into it Martin Scorsese was?

Were you as hungry for pizza as I was?

Was Bill Murray's shout-out to Harold Ramis the most moving moment of the night or what?

Isn't is amazing that even here Murray can still shock and delight us?

How do we live in a world where neither of those guys have won an Oscar?

Does anything say The Wizard The Oz more than a performance from Pink?

What's with this whole "heroes" theme?

Should the In Memoriam segment be renamed the "What obscure person was left out so everyone can complain on Twitter" award?

Wasn't it heartbreaking seeing Roger Ebert, James Gandolfini, Harold Ramis and Philip Seymour Hoffman in the montage?

Wasn't Sarah Jones' passing handled strangely, with a message telling us to just go to the web site?

Shouldn't they get credit for at least doing something on such short notice?

When Bette Midler came out did the heroes theme only then start to make a bit more sense?

Did I ever tell you you're my hero?

That you're everything I wish I could be?

ADELE DAZIM?!

Is everyone who went out on a limb to pick Her for Original Screenplay feeling pretty good?

Doesn't Cuaron come off as a great guy?

Did anyone really think Cate Blanchett wouldn't thank Woody Allen?

Do people who think she shouldn't need to get some perspective that we're honoring the work?

Is McConaughey the only Best Actor winner with his own legitimate catchphrase?

Isn't that kind of cool?

Is Will Smith the only Razzie winner to have presented Best Picture the following day?

Didn't the pacing of the show kind of hit a snag in the last hour and a half?

What does it say when keeping it under four hours is an accomplishment?

12 Years an Oscar telecast?

Am I in shock I missed only two categories the entire night?

Am I glad I adjusted my predictions before the show?

Can you believe how many wins Gravity had without taking Best Picture?

Did American Hustle really just get completely shut out?

Despite being hit or miss at times, is Ellen the first host in a while to actually earn a return invite?

Doesn't it seem like we have the same complaints and discussions about the Oscars every year?

Given this year's crop of films, is the 7 percent rise in viewership proof this show was as entertaining as it could have possibly been?