Doctor Strange

Scott Derrickson's Doctor Strange is an above average popcorn picture. The role of the doctor is Sherlock redux for Benedict Cumberbatch: a brilliant and arrogant rationalist (in this case a brain surgeon) who lacks any form of empathy. A car accident robs the Doc of his surgical skills, but a mysterious sage, a perfectly cast Tilda Swinton, gets him in touch with his hidden superpowers. Swinton and Cumberbatch have a good rapport and it is a credit to the film that their relationship and not the CGI is the most exciting thing in it.

Swinton's sage bring the Doc's ego down a notch or twelve, whilst freeing him from the tyranny of Western mind/body dualism. Mads Mikkelsen and Rachel McAdams, superb performers both, are largely wasted as "the villain" and "the girl". Ben Bratt and Chiwetel Ejiofor fare better. Director Derrickson's background is in horror and he keeps the pace brisk. (6/17/17)

The Batman

Robert Pattinson is The Batman

Despite its largely positive critical and commercial reception, I found Matt Reeves' The Batman to be a lugubrious bore. The narrative of the film is so freighted with socially significant signifiers ( class resentment, Occupy Wall Street, homelessness, vigilantism, 1/6/2021, internet paranoia, and, stretching back a bit, Hurricane Katrina) that it smothers any possibility of nuance or subtext. The pacing is extremely slow, a good fit for an opera or memorial service, but fatal to this slice of violent pulp.

The Batman has an outstanding cast, for the most part well chosen for their roles (though Andy Serkis seems too sinister to be an effective Alfred) , but they labor in vain. The film is a dark, elephantine genre piece devoid of subtlety, passion, and humanity. 

Wonder Woman

Patty Jenkins' Wonder Woman marks a welcome return to the big screen for the director who guided Charlize Theron to an Oscar in Monster way back in 2003. Wonder Woman has been greeted with unprecedented hosannas by audiences and critics alike. I was diverted, but largely underwhelmed by this comic book fare. Since so many of the Marvel And DC features are pap, there is a general desire to embrace comic book films that have even a glimmer of intelligence. Wonder Woman has that glimmer and a nice dash of romance, but is largely by the numbers. 

The rote sections of Wonder Woman are its first and last parts. That the action packed finale is routine is not a surprise, but the first third is a lifeless picturing of the heroine's life among the Amazons. Even chunks of cheese like Xena and Clash of the Titans have more zip to their refashioning of Greek myths. How I longed for a femme version of Ted Raimi's Joxer to show up and enliven the overly solemn proceedings. Happily, the second act perks up and morphs into a fish out of water comedy as our heroine plunges into 1918 London. 

Wonder Woman is greatly helped by the chemistry of its romantic leads. Gal Gadot is a little stiff, but dark haired beauties such as Keanu Reeves and Gregory Peck were much more wooden at the beginning stage of what would prove to be long and fruitful careers. Chris Pine, as he did in Hell or High Water and even the wretched Into the Woods, proves he is one of our most versatile leading men. An asset to any film, Pine here underplays to make sure all eyes are on his leading lady. Unfortunately, as even the children in my multiplex audience complained, the secondary characters are under sketched and unmemorable. Talented folks like Danny Huston, Robin Wright, and David Thewlis hem and haw to little effect. The best scene Jenkins gives us is a woman and man alone on a boat. I hope Ms. Jenkins' next feature has a few less explosions and more personal moments such as this. (6/26/17)