Quantum Leap: Season 2

Creators: Donald P. Bellisario, Steven Lilien, Bryan Wynbrandt
Starring: Raymond Lee, Caitlin Bassett, Mason Alexander Park, Nanrisa Lee, Ernie Hudson, Susan Diol, Peter Gadiot, Eliza Taylor
Original Airdate: 2023-24

**The Following Review Contains Plot Spoilers For Seasons 1 and 2 of 'Quantum Leap'**

Full Season: ★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Finale: ★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

If sophomore TV seasons are notoriously difficult to crack, you'd figure it doesn't get much harder than the challenge facing the continuation of Quantum Leap. In Fall 2022, we found out how a sequel series would look decades after the original aired its final episode. And it was a departure, with the show sometimes struggling to balance weekly leaps with the action at headquarters. But the plot of Dr. Ben Song (Raymond Lee) leaping through time to save the life of his fiancée and holographic observer Addison Augustine (Caitlin Bassett) still skillfully used its serialized format to build an entire season around a main arc that anchors the episodes.

Ben's attempt to protect the Project from the mysterious "Leaper X" ended in a convoluted finale with enough alternate timelines to make your head spin. While sometimes difficult to follow, "Judgment Day" got the job done, tantalizing us with the possibility Ben could get the ending Sam Beckett didn't and return home. But with NBC quickly picking this up for another season, viewers would have to wait, while showrunners Martin Gero and Dean Georgaris hit the ground running, opting to blow everything up in these thirteen episodes. And that's no small risk for a major network series still finding its identity. 

There's a concerted effort to make this season cleaner and tighter, while also taking a page out of the original's playbook by focusing more extensively on these characters and the "empathy engine" that drove the classic series. But for as many call backs and tie-ins that there are, it's still a completely different animal, which can be both a blessing and curse. Fortunately, there are enough noticeable improvements to really appreciate what went into the building of this, despite that nagging feeling even more refinement could help when it comes to the actual leaps.

The near-perfect finale stands as a creative peak, seamlessly incorporating key themes into an explosive pay off that's groundwork can be traced to its predecessor. And in doing so, the show cleverly identifies its true villain: Time. Finding out the hard way that the road to hell really can be paved with good intentions, Ben and Addison are forced to make sacrifices that would seem implausible only a season ago. Now they're ready to embark on an entirely different journey, assuming the show's granted that chance to take it.

Ben fully expects to step out of that accelerator and return home, but instead finds himself still leaping, this time as a member of the Air Force, tasked with transporting a mysterious cargo plane over Russia. Addison is nowhere in sight when he's located by Ian (Mason Alexander Park) and informed the Project shut down after the team spent the past three years searching for him. 

With Ben presumed dead, a distraught Addison eventually moved on, turning to new boyfriend and government official Tom Westfall (Peter Gadiot) for support. He'll join her and Ian on the recently reunited team with Project head Magic (Ernie Hudson) and security specialist Jenn (Nanrisa Lee) in attempting to retrieve the newly discovered Ben. 

In continuing to process the end of his relationship with Addison, Ben cosmically crosses paths with waitress turned physics student Hannah Carson (Eliza Taylor) over various decades, their bond growing stronger with each leap. Meanwhile at HQ, Ian and Jenn's attempt to track Ben catches the unwanted attention of nefarious tech boss Gideon Rydge (James Frain) whose involvement could sabotage the entire Project and destroy Ben's hope for a homecoming.

Implementing a three year jump (in Project time) was risky, but it succeeds in preventing the writers from potentially repeating themselves. Things tend to run their course so quickly in episodic storytelling that separating Ben and Addison proves smart, throwing a wrench in their familiar dynamic by allowing the characters to grow separately. It also helps Lee and Bassett are again flawless in their roles, during moments both big and small.

If Ben's lost everything seemingly overnight, Addison now has to deal with the guilt of not waiting and having moved on with Tom. But it won't be until season's end that we realize just how carefully orchestrated this is and how it fits into the larger plan.

An opening episode ("This Took Too Long!") that's entirely leap focused and Project-free feels like a breathe of fresh air after last season's shakier attempts at balancing the two. And even when it does settle back into a more familiar rhythm, this new tension between Ben and Addison serves to make its seven pre-strike episodes more noteworthy than expected. 

This falling out also opens the door for Magic, Jenn and Ian to enter the imaging chamber and rotate in as observers. The fifth episode, "One Night in Koreatown" finally places Ben in the crosshairs of a huge historical event (the '92 L.A. riots) and provides a strong showcase for Hudson, who adds more personal layers to Magic's backstory. 

Even the suspicious Tom gets his shot at as the observer, further fueling doubts about Addison's new boyfriend's intentions. But just as the synchronicity between leaps and HQ seem more organic in this go around, the writers avoid playing games with this new character. Tom's essentially who he appears, even as we patiently wait for Addison to come around to the fact that their relationship can't last as long as Ben's around.

It's really "Closure Encounters" that kicks off the season's long game, as Ben first crosses paths with Hannah while leaping into a government agent investigating a potential UFO crash in 1949. In a narrative device reminiscent of The Time Traveler's Wife, he encounters her over various time periods, and as comfortable as he is to reveal his true identity and purpose, it's her willingness to believe him that proves even most important

As Ben's connection with Hannah creates more awkwardness with Addison, the writing is still clever enough not to turn this into some kind of love triangle. And in contrast to when Sam hopped into bed with various women during his leaps, Hannah actually gets to know Ben as himself. 

The pair fight 1950's Nazis in "Secret History" before reuniting in the Cairo set "Nomads," where Ben leaps into a CIA agent attempting to entrap a traitor. And for as much as he influences Hannah's life and future, it'll only take a bit longer before viewers discover just how much she's doing for him. Sharing an effortless chemistry with Lee, Eliza Taylor's performance goes a long way in establishing Hannah as whose inclusion pays dividends.

The other leaps are a grab bag of genres, with a hostage situation ("Ben and Teller"), a Salem witch trial inspired story of intolerance ("A Kind of Magic") and an Indiana Jones-style adventure ("The Family Treasure") We also get two real standouts with Ben's second outing as a Bounty Hunter in "Off the Cuff" and the Deborah Pratt helmed "The Outsider," both featuring tremendous guest turns from David Clayton Rogers as a slimy criminal lawyer and Nadine Ellis playing a disgraced but determined news reporter. 

While it's understandable how budgetary concerns impact the kinds of leaps we get and the social messaging can feel more direct than in the original, the basic QL blueprint still informs the series. And the fan service and call-backs make sense within the story they're telling, which culminates in a near-perfect finale few could find fault with.  

In trying so hard to do the right thing, Ben unintentionally unleashes a monster that threatens the very existence of the Project and any shot at returning home. We may have suspected Ian and Jenn's stolen chip would lead to disaster, Hannah meeting Ben wasn't a mere coincidence and the truth behind her son Jeffrey (Wyatt Parker) would be revealed, but the devil was always in the details. If last season's closer drew comparisons to Back to the Future Part II with its multiple timelines, this one's not just simpler, but seems more aligned with the film in spirit, right down to Ben offering stock tips that negatively alter the future.

Ben's actions carry unforeseen and uncontrollable ripple effects that start coming to light in the penultimate, Towering Inferno-inspired episode, "As the World Burns." Of the many action driven leaps we've gotten, this 1974 set adventure is probably their slickest production-wise. It also contains one of the season's most memorable scenes, as a trapped, fallen Hannah provides Addison (whom she can't see) with her swap code to send Ben home. But what constitutes "home" turns out to be debatable.

No matter what Ben did, Hannah's husband Josh (Josh Dean) was always going to die, serving as a reminder that for as many lives as he saves, others inevitably fall through the cracks. And sometimes his attempts to prevent such events can just as easily cause them. That Jeffrey would eventually evolve into power hungry tech billionaire Gideon Rydge actually makes perfect sense. The Ben he sees is a time traveling menace whose interference destroyed his parents' marriage and directly caused his father's death. 

The Chris Grismer directed "Against Time" sees Gideon take the reigns with his mercenaries and dispose of the team, leading to Frain and Lee's sole scene together, which is a doozy. But whereas Ben strives to put right what went wrong, a bitter, enraged Gideon delusionally views himself as a savior of this project and the hero of his own story. Frain's performance strikes just the right tone of unchecked menace, while still giving us glimpses of that playful kid whose optimism was shattered. Now in full control and preparing to enter the accelerator to replace Ben, it's clear he's far past help. Luckily, Jeffrey isn't.

Ben can easily stop everything, including Jenn's death, with one swing of a hammer. but in true Sam Beckett fashion he recognizes that destroying a grieving kid's dreams isn't the way because everyone deserves saving. Ben can talk about the Project's capacity for positive change until he's blue in the face, but Jeffrey needs to actively take part in saving a life if there's any chance in preventing him from what he'll become.

Ben's 1976 leap into a stock car driver Ricky Jarrett Jr. could have easily be a throwaway, in danger of being ignored amidst these high stakes. But his task in preventing the death of Ricky's legendary father (Judson Mills) from a massive heart attack takes on monumental importance when young Jeffrey's able to help do what he couldn't for his own dad. 

After being sidelined for a chunk of the season before sacrificing his own job to save Ian and Jenn's, Magic's back alongside a returning Beth (Susan Diol) and Janis (Georgina Reilly), whose original accelerator and old school handlink come back into play. 

The visual realization that their plan to thwart the season's "big bad" worked might be the series' most memorable moment, with Gideon's expression transforming as the successfully executed butterfly effect washes over the Project team. They may not remember any of this, but it happened, and its ramifications will stick.  

We also get a long awaited answer as to how much Beth and Janis knew about Sam's sacrifice for Al in "Mirror Image." Hearing Janis talk about how she wouldn't exist if not for Project Quantum Leap (complete with that classic music cue) is surreal, intrinsically tying into what Ben's fighting for now. Similarly, parallels are drawn between Beth and Addison's first-hand experience in deciding whether to wait for their missing partner. Acknowledging her regret, Addison's finally ready to put on that fermi suit and swap places with Ben, bringing everything full circle. Sort of. They're reunited, but in the past as leapers, with a fresh set of possibilities ahead.

Like many shows on the bubble since it premiered, the producers had to give NBC what they want within a tighter budget and time frame caused by the strike. So while it's understandable to miss the simplicity of the classic series, what we've gotten has certainly attempted to incorporate its legacy. And for all the continued debate surrounding whether this "needs" a Scott Bakula appearance, count me among those who still think it does, especially considering how much Sam's past has informed this incarnation, and how open they've been in acknowledging that. But it has to make sense and feel right. 

More than just warranting a binge for skeptical viewers who may have prematurely bailed, Quantum Leap's season finale can also potentially work as a series closer if it has to. But while going out on top is nice, it's really hard to settle after coming so far and realizing this doesn't feel done. For as much work that went into it, two seasons just isn't enough when you've been waiting thirty years and there's still story left to tell.                                

The Iron Claw

Director: Sean Durkin
Starring: Zac Efron, Jeremy Allen White, Harris Dickinson, Maura Tierney, Stanley Simons, Holt McCallany, Michael J. Harney, Lily James, Brady Pierce, Aaron Dean Eisenberg, Kevin Anton, Cazzey Louis Cereghino, Chavo Guerrero Jr., Ryan Nemeth, Scott Innes
Running Time: 132 min.
Rating: R

**The Following Review Contains Plot Spoilers For 'The Iron Claw' **

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Watching Sean Durkin's The Iron Claw you can't help but wonder how differently the film plays for casual viewers as opposed to wrestling fans already well versed in the Von Erich story. The uninitiated are likely to be shocked, scratching their heads in disbelief at how this continuous string of tragedies struck one family in such a short period of time. But even ardent followers numb to the depths of despair that define this industry would admit what happened to them stings worse than anything before or since. 

Only when A24 announced the project did the enormity of Durkin's task come into view, with many focusing on how inaccessible it would be. But of the three films he's directed, it's probably the most accessible, weaving a complex and multi-faceted narrative about a very specific form of entertainment into a shattering meditation on damaged families. If everyone thought this was just too damn sad to make into a movie the public would willingly see, Durkin proves them wrong, but the hardest part was always going to be fitting it all in.

There's the challenge of pacing out numerous deaths over the course of a two hour and thirteen minute film, making us care equally for these fallen siblings, choosing what gets left out and casting actors that do justice to their real life counterparts. The results are all over the map and intriguing to examine, but what's less debatable is this idea of a "Von Erich curse" that's frequently debunked throughout. The brothers' fates were instead controlled by a strict, controlling father determined to make their sons champions so they'd always be protected. Unfortunately, no one was there to protect them from him. He's the real curse.

It's 1979 and Texas NWA Heavyweight Champion Kevin Von Erich (Zac Efron) is being pushed by his father, former wrestler and WCCW owner and promoter Fritz Von Erich (Holt McCallany), as the promotion's top draw and forthcoming contender to the prestigious NWA World Championship. Shortly after, brother David (Harris Dickinson) makes his promising debut, teaming with Kevin and rising up the ranks quickly enough to possibly displace him. 

While Kevin begins dating fan and future wife Pam (Lily James), younger brother Kerry's (Jeremy Allen White) 1980 Summer Olympic hopes are dashed after the U.S. boycott the games, causing him to move back to the family ranch. It isn't long before Fritz recruits him into the ring and also pressures shy, awkward youngest son Mike (Stanley Simons), who shows little aptitude between the ropes and prefers playing with a band than following in his siblings' footsteps. 

With the Dallas Sportatorium selling out and TV ratings going through the roof, the Von Erich brothers become overnight celebrities as their battles against The Fabulous Freebirds heat up the territory. But when unimaginable tragedy strikes multiple times, Fritz doubles down in his quest to bring the title into this family, whatever the cost, leaving an emotionally catatonic Kevin to watch in stunned silence as his brothers perish one by one.

If pro wrestling has a long history of promoters controversially pushing their offspring, the Von Erichs are outliers in that their natural ability warranted it, save for Mike. But this making great business sense isn't Fritz's only motivation, as all his decisions spawn from his misguided desire to vicariously live through his sons, who he believes can bring home the NWA title he was supposedly screwed out of holding. In a black and white flashback to open the film he tells wife Doris (Maura Tierney) and a young Kevin and David about building a new life for this family, which his self-serving intentions  eventually sabotage.

When Fritz sits at the kitchen table casually ranking all his sons in order of preference, he's not joking. Kevin's the athlete, David's the talker, Kerry's the favorite with charisma to spare and Mike's just a back-up plan. But he doesn't care who gets the championship, his view of their interchangeability becoming more apparent with each tragedy. Durkin might skip over a lot, but the acknowledgment of Fritz's first-born son Jack's accidental death isn't one of them. An unseen catastrophe that shaped this demanding patriarch in the ugliest of ways, his desire to replace him never waned, causing the other boys to pay the price. 

The decision to omit real life youngest brother Chris and merge details of his story into Mike's might raise eyebrows, but with the film's pacing already compromised by needing to cram so much in, the choice seems understandable. Though some character development is adversely affected when all these events run into each other, Mike's awful plight is an exception, zeroing in on Fritz's determination to shove him into a profession he isn't physically or mentally equipped for.

The period details of a packed Sportatorium and the entire atmosphere surrounding the Von Erichs' rise to prominence in the early 80's is displayed in full glory. This also extends to the recreation of WCCW's weekly television program, with its innovative use of entrance music (like Rush's "Tom Sawyer" for Kerry) and groundbreaking camera angles that continued influencing major promotions long after their doors permanently closed. Everything's here in bits and pieces, including Michael J. Harney's small but  authentic turn as longtime company announcer Bill Mercer. 

The actors are all believable inside the squared circle, with skillful editing and lots of training likely giving a big assist. With a surprising amount of time donated to in-ring action, we see the most from Efron as Kevin in matches with Harley Race (Kevin Anton) and Ric Flair (Aaron Dean Eisenberg), both of whom are distractingly impersonated. And even if Efron doesn't really resemble Kevin and clearly went overboard in bulking up to play the way leaner, barefooted grappler, he sure looks and moves like a wrestler on that mat.  

Giving a performance within a performance, there's this moment during the Race match where Kevin appears to be hurt, but we can't be sure. Is Efron really this good at making it look like Kevin's selling this or is he supposed to actually be hurt? It's enough to make your brain explode, but the movie hardly shies away from exploring the line between fiction and reality that pro wrestlers straddle. An early conversation between Kevin and Pam finds the former delivering about as succinct an explanation for what they do as a skeptic could possibly get. Ask Fritz and you're more likely to hear a lecture on how backstage politics dictate everything, which would seem especially rich coming from him. 

While the film justifiably centers around the shell shocked Kevin, Harris Dickinson might give the most factually accurate portrayal as David and not just because of the English actor's uncanny resemblance to the tall, lanky uncrowned champ. He really seems to grasp every facet of this when he's on screen and his bathroom talk with Kevin ranks as one of the film's more subtly powerful scenes. 

Kerry isn't introduced right away so Jeremy Allen White has some catching up to do on top of the fact he's playing the most famous Von Erich. And since Kerry looked like a chiseled superhero, Durkin makes the right call in de-emphasizing the far smaller White's ring scenes, opting instead to focus on his turmoil outside of it. White excels at this, letting the film mercifully use actual footage of Kerry's two most important matches to spare us another extended Flair imitation. The timeline may be a little wonky, but the motorcycle accident that took his foot is covered, as are allusions to his drug-riddled WWF run. Despite being the only brother to make it there, the bloom was off the rose by that point, accelerating his downward spiral. 

Something about Stanley Simons' performance as Mike grabs hold early and doesn't let go, bringing a contemplative innocence we haven't seen in previous accounts of Mike's ordeal. And it's probably time to call Richard Reed Parry and Little Scream's original song "Live That Way Forever" one of the bigger Oscar snubs of the year. Performed by Simons in the film, it slides perfectly onto a soundtrack of 70's classics from Tom Petty, Blue Oyster Cult and John Denver.  

Journeyman character actor and Mindhunter star Holt McCallany plays Fritz without judgment, embodying the master of the Iron Claw as a ruthless stage dad from hell who's convinced himself that this psychological abuse is just a form of "tough love" for his boys. While there isn't nearly enough time for the film to delve into the full extent of Fritz's monstrous acts, McCallany's powerful performance still manages to imply the remainder of them, as each subsequent tragedy prompts him to continue filling the bottomless pit that exists inside his rotting soul. 

As Doris, Maura Tierney is sort of invisible, which is exactly who the devoutly religious matriarch proved to be, silently supporting whatever her husband does. Lily James' role as Pam is slightly larger than you'd expect, her character often acting as the voice of reason as Kevin starts to buy into the potential validity of this curse.  

There's plenty we don't get, like Fritz's insulting introduction of phony Von Erich cousin Lance (AEW wrestler Maxwell Jacob Friedman in a whittled down cameo) or that infamous Pizza Inn commercial with Mike, Kevin and Kerry. And while there are scenes of their hard partying, most of the excessive drug use is skimmed over enough that the viewer will need to connect the dots. It's easy to imagine the existence of a longer cut somewhere that works to fill in those blanks.

Durkin makes a conscious choice not to show all the grisly details of these deaths as this whole experience culminates in an emotionally wrenching afterlife scene you'll have trouble shaking. The Iron Claw covers a lot of ground well, even if it's the type of narrative that might be better served by the expanded scope of a limited series or documentary. But considering how much is already out there, this still cuts to the heart of it, prompting those completely unfamiliar with Von Erichs to continue digging deeper.                                 

The Marvels

Director: Nia DaCosta
Starring: Brie Larson, Teyonah Parris, Iman Vellani, Zawe Ashton, Gary Lewis, Park Seo-joon, Zenobia Shroff, Mohan Kapur, Saagar Shaikh, Samuel L. Jackson
Running Time: 105 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★½ (out of ★★★★)

Despite everything that goes wrong, it's still easy to envision a scenario where The Marvels works, which isn't always the case with misfires like this. Placing the blame entirely at the feet of director Nia DeCosta for the MCU's latest woes is a stretch, especially since they seem indicative of larger franchise issues. And while a film featuring these three characters should really turn out a lot better, fault doesn't lie with the actresses either, as its most successful scenes involve their interplay, at least when the hyperkinetic story slows down enough to showcase it. 

Bogged down by a weak villain and convoluted setup, it ironically suffers a similar fate to the year's other underperforming superhero outing, DC's The Flash. If that's preoccupied with two versions of its protagonist goofing off in a loopy time travel plot, this one fixates on a transporting premise, endlessly obsessing over details to the point it becomes an ongoing quantum physics lecture. That combined with hit-or-miss CGI and dizzying action sequences define the first half, making one of Marvel's more digestible run times feel longer than it should. The performances and noteworthy cameos before and during the end credits help, but it's a safe bet the studio will want us to forget about all this.

After Captain Marvel/Carol Danvers (Brie Larson) destroyed the Supreme Intelligence that leads the Kree empire, a civil war erupted on planet Hala, which is gradually losing all its air, sunlight and water. When Kree's new leader Dar-Benn (Zawe Ashton) discovers one of the two powerful Quantum Bands, she opens "jump points" that former S.H.I.E.L.D. director Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) tasks Carol and Captain Monica Rambeau (Teyonah Parris) with investigating. 

When Carol and Monica touch their respective points, both are transported to different locations, swapping places with Ms. Marvel/Kamala Khan (Iman Vellani), who's at her New Jersey home in possession of the other Quantum Band. Soon, all three discover their light-based powers are linked, allowing them to switch places. Now these differing personalities must team up to stop Dar-Benn, who vows to restore her planet's resources and avenge the injustice that's befallen its population.  

You have to assume co-writer and director DaCosta didn't have final say here, which can happen whenever a machine like Marvel hires up-and-coming filmmakers for their projects. But whether or not it's her contribution, the awkward, tension-filled reunion between Carol and Monica and Kamala's fangirling over Captain Marvel are the two elements that really click, along with some of the comic relief. Unfortunately, it's overshadowed by clunky narrative machinations and a manufactured mishmash of reasons to unite them. Only when the three co-leads are bouncing off each other do we get glimpses of what could have been if the story supporting them wasn't such a mess. 

Brie Larson is again dependably solid as Carol, with the script giving her a decent arc, at least in terms of the character's pent-up frustration and lingering guilt. Teyonah Parris provides context for Monica's resentment toward her, stemming mostly from broken promises and leftover baggage from 2018's Captain Marvel. And even if little in this film comes close to equaling the Disney Plus's underappreciated Ms. Marvel, Iman Vellani radiates that same likable charm and impressive comedic timing as teenage Kamala, who's starstruck at the prospect of fighting alongside her idol.

The last act is a mixed bag, but does best when focusing on how the heroes learn to co-exist and warm to each other, making the closing sacrifice one of the film's more affecting sequences. If nothing else, this beats the regurgitating cat gag, though its accompanying musical cue does induce a chuckle. But while no better or worse than other action finales, good luck finding a villain flimsier than this one, as our minimal interest in Dar-Benn somehow actually lessens the more we learn about her.

It's no secret the MCU desperately needs an overhaul and whether that next phase includes these three characters is anyone's guess. With audience fatigue setting in, it may be a logical idea to shift toward more standalone stories not entirely dependent on whether you've seen a handful of other films or series. Either way, a potentially intriguing next chapter teased at the end of this installment now has a better shot at providing fodder for Marvel's What If? than landing in theaters.                           

Priscilla

Director: Sofia Coppola
Starring: Cailee Spaeny, Jacob Elordi, Ari Cohen, Dagmara Domińczyk, Tim Post, Lynne Griffin, Daniel Beirne, Rodrigo Fernandez-Stoll, Dan Abramovici, R. Austin Ball, Stephanie Moore
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Going into Sofia Coppola's Priscilla, there's an immediate temptation to pit it against 2022's more bombastic Elvis. And while Priscilla Presley was brushed aside in it, concerns remained this effort could still be redundant, covering much of the same ground despite its shift in focus. But what Coppola serves up instead is a more subdued, contemplative approach that's miles removed from Baz Luhrmann's flashy extravaganza. It's no better or worse an approach, just entirely different, which is probably for the best.

Less about Elvis's rise to fame and legendary career than Priscilla's challenges in living with him, this look at their complicated, volatile relationship is the first to heavily emphasize that controversial age gap, going so far as to paint The King as an abusive child groomer capable of flying off the handle at a moment's notice. And yet he manages to disarm everyone he meets, initially obscuring his worst qualities from the smitten, impressionable teen. While their union may not pass the legal or ethical sniff test, Coppola succeeds in believably showing its effects on the future and former Mrs. Presley, who silently ached to escape her husband's shadow.  

It's 1959 and 14 year-old Priscilla Beaulieu (Cailee Spaeny) lives with her family in West Germany, where her stepfather, Captain Beaulieu (Ari Cohen) is stationed in the military. At a party on the base, Priscilla is introduced to the recently drafted 24-year-old world famous singer Elvis Presley (Jacob Elordi), who takes an immediate liking to her. Flustered by his affections, they begin dating, and after some early resistance from Priscilla's parents, it isn't long before they're also won over by Elvis's manners and charm. 

Following Elvis's tour of duty, Priscilla moves to his Graceland estate in Memphis and enrolls at the local Catholic high school, where she faces increased scrutiny. Behind closed doors, he exerts control over every aspect of her life, getting hooked on prescription drugs while rumors of his alleged infidelity swirl in the tabloids. Prone to wild mood swings, his verbally and physically abusive behavior lead to Priscilla being bought off with gifts and hollow apologies. Amidst his worsening addictions, the relationship deteriorates, while she quietly yearns for a fresh start.  

That Spaeny and Elordi don't physically resemble Priscilla and Elvis in the slightest actually helps Coppola's cause since neither come across as attempting an impersonation of any sort. You even have to occasionally remind yourself who they're playing since this couple is often more intriguing than the genuine article, who always seemed just out of our reach, their true selves obscured by the media frenzy surrounding them. 

This feels like a deeper, more intelligent look at who they were as people, with an increased emphasis on Priscilla's doe eyed innocence and naivety, as Spaeny believably transforms from teen to late twenties woman over the course of the film. A relative unknown, she's a revelation in the role, conveying all the excitement, trepidation and fear that might accompany this girl's relationship with the biggest celebrity on the planet.

As recently demonstrated in Saltburn, Elordi's magnetic screen presence makes him an inspired choice for Elvis, and despite not looking like him and towering over a diminutive Spaeny, this works. If anything, it highlights the distance between them and an obviously uneven power dynamic that will only grow larger as the film progresses. And Coppola's wise enough not to have Elordi emulate Austin Butler's portrayal, tailoring this different take to the actor's specific strengths. There's also no Colonel Parker to be found in a movie where he wouldn't quite fit, his involvement limited to a briefly overheard phone call and a few passing mentions.

Elvis effortlessly impresses Priscilla's pushover parents by appealing to her father's sense of duty and respect. After dismissing everything their daughter says, one visit from him and they're completely on board with her moving to Graceland. And as much as Priscilla's vulnerability stands out against the older, experienced Elvis, his superstar status has given him a free pass to get away with a lot, and he definitely uses it.  

Leaving her small town existence behind brings a new series of challenges for Priscilla that few of any age could handle. Just as Elvis's tantrums seem to reach their crescendo, the realization hits that they're not even married yet, nor has she given birth to Lisa Marie. In other words, it'll get far worse, and while his extended absences feel like a respite, she still clings to him while struggling to craft her own separate identity. 

If Coppola's previously been accused of sacrificing substance for style, the atmosphere she, cinematographer Philippe Le Sourd, production designer Tamara Deverell create with Graceland feels like an ideal balance of the two, with Priscilla hauled up in a palace of superficial beauty that doubles as her penitentiary, not unlike the setting that plagued Princess Diana in 2021's Spencer. And similarly, it isn't a single event, but rather slow, steady stream of them that break her, leading to the eventual epiphany.

Impeccably made and anchored by a tremendous star-making performance from Spaeney, Coppola again explores her go-to theme of isolated women emotionally imprisoned by the trappings of wealth and fame. But there's something that feels more coldly detached about this, zeroing in on all the right parts of Priscilla's 1985 memoir and filling the gaps with smaller, slice-of-life moments absent from other Elvis-related projects. If it's sometimes easy to agree with biopic skeptics who think we never need another take on anyone, this shows there's usually room for a new perspective that challenges those preconceived notions.                 

The Creator

Director: Gareth Edwards
Starring: John David Washington, Madeleine Yuna Voyles, Gemma Chan, Allison Janney, Ken Watanabe, Sturgill Simpson, Marc Menchaca, Ralph Ineson, Michael Esper, Veronica Ngo
Running Time: 133 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

2016's Rogue One: A Star Wars Story was notable for being one of the few Disney-era installments of that franchise to receive near unanimous praise, pleasing even the crankiest hardcore fans. Despite a troubled production, director Gareth Edwards emerged as the only recent filmmaker to survive the thankless task of helming a Star Wars movie, earning a certain degree of respect for his efforts as the studio's hired hand. Rogue One isn't perfect, but it's better than most, rightly credited for providing the template for Disney's two best small screen follow-ups in The Mandalorian and Andor. 

Now with The Creator, Edwards proves his previous success wasn't merely a fluke. Partially freed from those creative constraints, what he delivers isn't much of a deviation from Star Wars, minus that franchise's considerable baggage. And even if the script he co-writes with Chris Weitz doesn't cover any new ground in the genre, his gift of visual spectacle and world building remains an outlier. That's the main draw, eclipsing a sufficient, if overcooked plot filled to the brim with sci-fi tropes that tidily converge by the end. But there are plenty of thrills to be found along the way, supplied mostly by glimpses into a future that looks and feels more authentic than its many CG-heavy counterparts.

In 2065, an AI-detonated nuclear warhead decimates much of Los Angeles, sparking a war between Western nations trying to prevent humanity's extinction and Asian countries embracing Artificial Intelligence. With the U.S. military utilizing the NOMAD (North American Orbital Mobile Aerospace Defense) space station to launch missile attacks from orbit, they've set their sights on locating mysterious AI architect "Nirmata." But when Army sergeant Joshua Taylor (John David Washington) and his pregnant wife Maya's (Gemma Chan) home is raided during a missile strike, she discovers he's been working undercover.

It's five years later and Joshua is recruited by General Andrews (Ralph Ineson) and Colonel Howell (Allison Janney) to destroy "Alpha O," a new Nirmata-engineered weapon created to destroy NOMAD and win the war. But this weapon is actually a robotic sim of a young girl (Madeleine Yuna Voyles), who Joshua disobeys direct orders to kill, instead taking her on the run. Faced with either handing "Alfie" over or risking greater destruction to humanity, his choice is more personally conflicting than it appears, wedging him between two sides fighting for survival.

That none of this plays as an AI warning ad is both the film's biggest strength and weakness,  acknowledging the technology's perils, but framing its supporters as oppressed victims. This dichotomy is present from the opening raid, with Joshua's loyalty to Maya and their unborn child far exceeding his government pledge. And once we see the tragic result of the strike, his stance is even clearer, calling into question just how responsible Nirmata really is for these nuclear atrocities. Because of this, viewers are put in the position of potentially rooting for AI in their battle against humans, which might be the script's strangest feature. Given recent controversies, it's certainly a choice.  

The story's softened by the bond between Joshua and little Alfie, who share the same sort of father-child relationship present with Mando and Grogu in The Mandalorian or Obi-Wan and young Leia in Obi-Wan Kenobi. Add in elements of Steven Spielberg's E.T. and A.I. and you get a pretty good idea what this is. And though we've seen it before, it's still the most effective aspect of an admittedly convoluted screenplay, with philosophical ruminations on her existence still welcome in the midst of a sleek action vehicle. Those pieces mix especially well in the last act due to the performances, Edwards' direction and Greig Fraser and Oren Soffer's cinematography, all of which help cultivate an atmosphere we're more than willing to buy into.

Even John David Washington's loudest detractors would admit his cool, collected low-key approach helps him in this, especially as the mysterious little girl breaks down Joshua's barriers. And newcomer Madeleine Yuna Voyles holds up her end as Alfie, whose ability to remotely control technology conjures up valid comparisons to "The Force." Allison Janney and Ken Watanabe excel in smaller roles, keeping their characters' intentions consistent even as our perceptions of them evolve.  

It would be easy to mistake this for another Star Wars entry or Blade Runner sequel, as so much of its content supports the assumption. But Disney execs could still stand to take a few notes on the execution, particularly when it comes to the flawless VFX that subtly raise the material a level higher than you'd expect. The Creator may not be bursting with originality, but that does little to compromise the overall vision. Its lack of flashiness is its biggest asset, leaving us with the tantalizing promise that Edwards's best work lies ahead.