Supergirl

Director: Craig Gillespie
Starring: Milly Alcock, Matthias Schoenaerts, Eve Ridley, David Krumholtz, Emily Beecham, David Corenswet, Jason Momoa, Ferdinand Kingley, Diarmaid Murtagh, Clara Rosager, Heather Agyepong, Alice Hewkin, Paul Hunter
Running Time: 108 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)   

If Craig Gillespie's Supergirl seemed like it never stood a chance, it wasn't due to quality, but the realization everyone had already made up their minds. And even if a standalone film centered around this character was always considered a tough sell for DC, the hostility still stung. Whether it was complaints about casting, its script or nearly any other aspect of a picture no one yet laid eyes on, financial failure gradually became inevitable. So despite the enthusiastic reception Supergirl's cameo got at the end of 2025's Superman, skeptics' knives were sharpened a while ago  

It's never a good sign when your interest in a project rests on finding out whether it really is as bad as everyone says. And considering all the venom spewed in its direction, you can't help but think it must be. But that's the thing with Supergirl. There are no "correct" versions of her, just varying incarnations of a character that needs constant reinvention to stay relevant. This is the latest, and though she's a mess, the movie isn't, as writer Ana Nogueira sets her on a journey to move past the pain and find some version of "home." Clocking in at just under two hours, it has a clear mission and equally strong execution, making for a fun, breezy watch that's superior to lot of the underwhelming superhero fare it's accused of resembling.   

Growing up on Argo City, Kara-El (Alcock) was raised by scientist father Zor-El (David Krumholtz) and mother Alura In-Ze (Emily Beecham) after they fled their destroyed planet of Krypton. But when the citizens of Argo suddenly start dying from the effects of Kryptonite, Zor-El sends Kara and her dog Krypto on a ship to Earth, where they're taken in by her cousin Kal-El/Superman (David Corenswet). Now on the eve of her 23rd birthday, Kara spends most of her time planet hopping and getting drunk, much to Superman's concern. 

Partying on the planet Holzherr, Kara encounters young Ruthye Marye Knoll (Eve Ridley), who seeks vengeance on the Krem of the Yellow Hills (Matthias Schoenaerts) for brutally murdering her family. Initially, Kara dismisses Ruthye's pleas for help, at least until Krem shoots Krypto with a poisoned dart. Desperate to locate Krem and the antidote to save Krypto, Kara reluctantly takes Ruthye along as they face numerous obstacles, like a cocky bounty hunter named Lobo (Jason Momoa) who has a score of his own to settle with the Brigands. But as Krypto's life hangs in the balance, Kara and Ruthye must somehow move beyond their traumatic pasts to help each other. 

Rather than digging into Kara's origin story right away, it's inserted into the film's middle section, allowing for a more memorable, attention grabbing introduction. And given her bratty, wisecracking attitude, the rebellious Supergirl does immediately leave a lasting first impression. That the script's adapted from Tom King and Bilquis Evely's beloved comic book series, Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow sets the bar high, but producer James Gunn picked the right actress in Alcock, who successfully captures an unconventional version of the character most haven't been exposed to. 

Apathetic and perpetually hung over, Kara wears a brown duster, sunglasses and a Blondie tee in place of that iconic suit for most of the running time. But it works, largely because it's a welcome departure that temporarily frees us from your usual superhero tropes. Just as Melissa Benoist wouldn't copy what Helen Slater did or Sasha Calle didn't pattern her performance after Benoist's, no Supergirl can fill the other's shoes. It's apples to oranges when we debate our favorites, each of whom personified a version of the role that suited their story's specific vision. So in this sense, Alcock fits right in, carrying on the tradition of being different from whoever came before.

Alcock does have a tight rope to walk in depicting a Kara who appears to be the polar opposite of her altruistic cousin, but still likeable enough to really root for. And her explanation that Superman sees the best in everyone when she sees "the truth," is a great line made better by the actress's dry, matter-of-fact delivery. But if Kara's recklessness and pessimism seems understandable once we recognize it as survivor's guilt, an even angrier Ruthye is hellbent on revenge, despite the further emotional scarring it'll bring. Of course, Kara's recognition of that and the begrudging willingness to take this girl under her wing suggests a bit more of Clark in her than she's willing to admit.

Cinematographer Rob Hardy's grungy, brownish, hue has drawn considerable comparisons to Mad Max, but Gillespie's entire approach is more reminiscent of Star Wars, as there's definitely a Mos Eisley cantina vibe to the bar scenes and a thrilling mid-air sequence featuring a plethora of alien species. As for all the complaints about its effects, they're surprisingly strong, even as the digitized Krypto has you wondering if they'd be better off casting a real dog. Doing that comes with its own set of challenges, but considering he spends most of this film asleep on a gurney, now was probably the time to do it. There's just something to be said for a pet owner's connection to their dog that can't be replicated with CGI stand-in.   

Alcock and Ridley share natural big sis/little sis chemistry throughout, but when Kara's incapacitated, the latter actress proves herself capable of carrying the load alone with spunk and vigor. It also doesn't hurt that Schoenaerts' Krem makes for a formidably menacing villain who gets just the right amount of screen time to make an impact. And while many already believed the charismatic Momoa was born to play Lobo, his turn as the vicious but cool anti-hero supports that theory, stealing every scene he's a part of. Corenswet's effectively used as the Man of Steel, mostly because Gillespie doesn't get bogged down by it, wisely incorporating him in key spots to emphasize Kara's past and present. 

Kara slipping into the suit for the action packed final act carries weight because it feels earned by a simple story told well, which in this frequently overcomplicated genre, shouldn't be dismissed. Lacking unnecessary sub-plots, distracting DCU crossovers or anything else that shifts the focus, it's briskly paced and efficiently constructed, creatively eclipsing this summer's The Mandalorian and Grogu and The Masters of the Universe. Unfortunately, Supergirl had people rooting against it in ways those other two didn't. Maybe now with more time and distance, this gets another look, and a renewed appreciation for all it gets right.                                                                                   

Dune (2021)

Director: Denis Villeneuve
Starring: Timothée Chalamet, Rebecca Ferguson, Oscar Isaac, Josh Brolin, Stellan Skarsgård, Dave Bautista, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Zendaya, David Dastmalchian, Chang Chen, Sharon Duncan-Brewster, Charlotte Rampling, Jason Momoa, Javier Bardem
Running Time: 156 min.
Rating: PG-13 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Better the longer it sits with you, Denis Villeneuve's Dune has the unenviable task of once again bringing to life the world in Frank Herbert's groundbreaking 1965 novel, while also picking up the pieces from one already perceived failure of an adaptation. There are few major, commercially viable cinematic properties left carrying as much baggage, due mostly to its inaccessibility and heady themes. Despite a story predating Star Wars by over a decade, on paper the plot contains elements justifiably earning those comparisons, albeit with more abstract material at its core, previously resulting in a rough big screen transition. Even if appreciation for his vision has grown slightly since, David Lynch learned found out the hard way in 1984, ensuring it wouldn't be revisted on a similar scale or scope until now. 

Arrival and Blade Runner 2049's Villeneuve seemed as good a choice as any to tackle this, possibly bringing the visual grandeur necessary to distract from, or maybe even enhance, some of the colder, navel-gazing excursions long thought to make it a better read than watch. And he does, giving us the best possible adaptation under the circumstances, even if a feeling of dread may overcome viewers when they see a title card reading "Dune: Part One" at the start of this 265-minute epic. Given the density of its source, that was inevitable, but you have to wonder whether this has the creative momentum necessary to become the franchise it's being positioned as. But it's a success, carefully guided by a director who, to his credit, doesn't try to fit a square peg into a round hole or dumb down a story that takes its time to marinate.

It's 1091 and the ruler of the ocean planet Caladan, Duke Leto (Oscar Isaac) of House Atreides has just been assigned to replace Baron Vladimir Harkonnen (Stellan Skarsgard) of House Harkonnen as the fief ruler of desert planet Arrakis. It's a rough, harsh terrain, but provides the only source of "spice," an invaluable resource critical to human viality and interstellar travel. Unbeknownst to Leto and House Atreides' weapons master Gurney Halleck (Josh Brolin), the Emperor is having Harkonnen stage a coup wit his troops to retake the planet, eradicating them before they can control the spice or form an advantageous alliance with the Freman, Arrakis' native inhabitants, represented by tribe leader Stilgar (Javier Bardem).

Leto's concubine, Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson), an acolyte of the Bene Gesserit sisterhood, possesses advanced physical and mental capabilities that have been passed on to son Paul (Timothée Chamalet), who is trained by her, Halleck and  swordsmaster, Duncan Idaho (Jason Momoa). While they all sense greatness in young Paul, he has impulse control issues and problems harnessing his powers, distracted by visions of a turbulent future and dreams of a mysterious young Freman woman (Zendaya). A war looms as Harkonnen's fleet of troops and hulking nephew Glossu Rabban (Dave Bautista) prepare to attack. With the fate of House Atreides, as well as the planet of Arrakis hanging in the balance, their futures may depend on Paul answering the call to fulfill his true destiny.      

As involved as this all seems, it's even more convoluted than that, so Villeneuve deserves credit for distilling the script he co-wrote with Joe Spaihts and Eric Roth into a palpable cinematic experience that reaches a certain level of comprehensibility. They didn't exactly hit the jackpot in terms of the breeziest sci-fi tomes to adapt so it's actually amazing how well this holds together, especially in its strongest middle section. For anyone not already familar with Herbert's novel or Lynch's '84 take, what will initially be most noticeable are how many basic mythological tenets it shares in common with the Star Wars trilogy, including a young hero struggling with his lineage who's now suddenly thrust into a leadership role in the wake of family tragedy. 

The use of a Bene Gissert Force-like technique known as the "Voice" that's ultilized to control others actions are where the closest similarities between Paul and young Skywalker end. If the latter was an eager go-getter almost too energetic for his own good, Paul's the most reluctant and introverted of heroes, with Chamalet subtly conveying a quiet confidence, while still registering his character's inner anguish and growing dread in nearly every scene. He's asked to do a lot while at times sustaining an almost absent stillness, putting a lot of pressure on the audience to embrace an entirely different kind of protagonist who must adhere to a philosophy built almost entirely on restraint and passivity, at least until it isn't. 

Since the character of Paul is such a departure, for some it may not be the most compelling thing to watch, but Chamalet completely makes it work, especially in his many scenes opposite a tremendous Rebecca Ferguson as his mother, Lady Jessica, who's simultaneously disappointed in and encouraging of her son. This, and his futuristic visions of Zendaya's Chani might be the film's most successful element, with even cinematographer Greig Fraser's impressive vistas and Hans Zimmmer's score managing to take a backseat (though not too much of one) when those actors are on screen. And while his time is more limited, Jason Momoa finds a way to make maybe the biggest impression as the spectacularly named Duncan Idaho, perfectly filling the cocky, anti-hero warrior role that's been so frequently miscast of late in these big blockbusters. 

That such strong acting assets as Oscar Isaac, Javier Bardem and a slimy, Jabba-like Stellan Skarsgård (buried in prosthetics) are far from an afterthought in an already stuffed A-list cast is a testament to how well Villeneuve utlilizes what he has. Whatever the story's perceived problems or occasional lapses in focus are made up for by them and the sheer spectacle of the fight sequences and effects, especially those ferocious sandstorms. Striking just the right balance of keeping your eyes glued to the screen without going overboard, the ratio of meditative scenes to slam bang action is well proportioned, with visuals that make one of the better recent cases for theatergoing.

A seemingly uncompromised Dune that's free from the pandering you'd expect from a movie this size might the best thing about it, staying true to its vision while avoiding the temptation to self-indulge. Culminating in more of a stoppage than an end, it feels so much like a first part, they may as well just slap a "to be continued" on the screen. How many will want to follow this story into the next chapter is the bigger question, even as it stands as one of the year's bigger technical achievements, awash in imagery and scenes that stay with you long after the final credits. No one expected this new Dune film to achieve perfection, but it's impressive nonetheless, reigniting a spirited debate as to why that lofty goal seems unattainable, both for better and worse.