Candyman

The updated Candyman was more a supernatural slasher-thriller rather than a straight up horror movie, or even a slasher flick. This was a direct sequel to the original 1992 film although foreknowledge was not required to enjoy it. Nia DeCosta, and her co-writers, smartly recapped the first film without bogging the narrative in exposition. In addition, the technique used - shadow-puppetry - was an effective device that linked to central theme of storytelling, urban legends and folklore. 

At a taut 91 minutes long, DeCosta's film was entertaining enough and delivered some tense moments and a few scares, with some well-staged kill scenes. Jordan Peele was a credited producer and co-writer and his DNA was evident throughout. Candyman - like most of Peele's projects - used the genre as a satirical mouthpiece. An of-the-moment film that mediated on Black history and racial justice, but in this case with a dose of Black folklore and generational trauma. 

DeCosta et al obviously also had too many ideas, but sadly not the canvas to adequately explore them. The film hinted at gender roles, gender inequality, familial trauma, etc, but most were only briefly hinted at or gleaned over without further resolution. Which then begged the question whether they should have even been mentioned at all or not, especially since on top of it all they had to tie this film in with the original 1992 for it all to really make sense.

Kudos to the two leads, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II and Teyonah Parris who were both fascinating to watch. The former as he explored his past and his identity, and the latter for not being a victim but a proactive agent of choice and change. Pity though that Parris could only really come into her own towards the end of the film.

Colman Domingo also stood out in a small but pivotal role.

Candyman was an entertaining film that felt like a pre-dessert rather than the main dessert. It lacked the depth of Peele's other films but at the same time it never took itself too seriously. Although, having now seen DeCosta's work, it will be interesting to watch her next team-up with Parris in the MCU's The Marvels.

Dune [IMAX]

First of all, Dune was a highly impressive film and the craftmanship was all-round outstanding. It should definitely be watched on a big screen and in IMAX if possible because the production value was astounding. It was gorgeously shot by Greig Fraser, the score by Hans Zimmer was peak-Zimmer, production design by Patrice Vermette was superb and the team of Costume Design and Hair & Make-up will definitely be in the running for Oscars too. 

However, and this is a big however, the story itself - screenplay credited to Jon Spaihts, Eric Roth and Denis Villeneuve - was an utter disaster. Messy, hollow, shallow and unnecessarily convoluted with none of the nuance and finesse of Frank Herbet's novel. Villeneuve's vision was a spectacle but Herbet's dense source material deserved a treatment similar to Lord of the Rings or even Game of Thrones. The story needs space to breath and the characters deserved to be humanised and fleshed out and given depth, instead of ending up as the one-dimensional archetypes/stereotypes that they were reduced in this film. 

Be warned, this film was Part One of a possible two-part epic, but Part Two has not even been filmed yet and writing as only just begun. It may not even be filmed if Dune crashes. That being said, this film should not be judged on what it could be - maybe great - but what it is - decidedly not good.

What Dune deserved was a commitment like LOTR for a set number of films to translate its story to the big screen. For all its fault, even the less successful The Hobbit gave its characters the time to develop and, like in LOTR, allowed Peter Jackson to really dive into the complexity of Tolkien's world. The politicking, the backstory, the world history and, most importantly, why it all mattered.

That was really what was wrong with Dune. Why did anything matter? What was the purpose? There was no tangible reason to root for anything or anyone. There was no heart and no soul in this gorgeously sumptuous space opera. Things happened, people moved, but no motives were illuminated. 

Herbet's Dune predated George Lucas' Star Wars but the similarities were clear. However, Villeneuve's vision only served to modernise the production which allowed for an expansion of scope but without replicating any of the emotional complexities that made Star Wars such a beloved franchise/story. 

All of Villeneuve's prior projects seemed to have led to this film. There were echoes of all his p[revious English-language films littered throughout the film from the desert landscape and twilight shots of Sicario to the sci-fi realms of Blade Runner 2049  and Arrival, and the slow-burn drama and mystery box of Prisoners and Enemy. However, a common thread was the slow disintegration of human drama and emotions in his films through the years in exchange for large, visual spectacle. Somehow, he has lost the intimacy of Prisoners and Sicario (and even Arrival) with Blade Runner 2049 and now, Dune.

The only actor/character that rose above all that was surprisingly Rebecca Ferguson's Lady Jessica. Now, that was one character who was interesting. What were her motivations? What was her backstory? Why is she like this? Ferguson's portrayal easily conveyed all that nuances. Too bad, she was not the focus.

Other characters/actors that came close were acting stalwarts Charlotte Rampling as the terrifying Gaius Helen Mohiam and Stellan Skarsgard as the scheming Baron Vladimir Harkonnen (who thankfully had an appropriate modern update and ditched the homophobic backstory). Unfortunately, both of whom were given limited screen time, although they absolutely crushed it.

Everybody else seemed overwhelmed and dwarfed by the world-class, world-building that Villeneuve had done. Their characters seemingly swallowed by the self-grandeur of the story. Timothée Chalamet's Paul Atreides reduced to a Christ-saviour role with puppy dog looks of longing - but longing for what? Chalamet was definitely no Tony Leung. 

Zendaya's Chani was an over glorified cipher and personification of a vision quest, and when she finally entered the narrative proper, you wonder how she managed a Best Actress Emmy win.

Oscar Isaac tried his best, but he was not given the time or the luxury to delve into what was possibly an intriguing backstory. 

Both Josh Brolin and Jason Momoa were reduced to eye-rolling caricatures of the gruff mentor with ?possibly a good heart and the bro-ly subordinate who takes the role of the BFF but will always still be the loyal subject. 

Oh, also, this film was surprisingly racist and non-inclusive. True, granted that Herbet's novel was about imperialism and colonialism, but it would not have hurt for Villeneuve and co to do some updating. Instead, we were left with a white-saviour narrative, white ruling classes lording over indigenous POC who were portrayed as lower class, and of course a mis-used Chang Chen as Dr Yueh the healer of the mystic arts that just so happened to be Asian (three steps forwards and two steps back after Shang-Chi).

Fraser will surely get another Oscar nomination for his outstanding cinematography here. It really worked very well on an IMAX screen. That was a highlight - for me - of the whole film. The visuals were just gorgeous.

Zimmer will also get his perennial nomination. He has gotten this whole space operatic, epic scoring down pat. It worked really well and was exciting at all the right moments. However, it was kind of expected from Zimmer without any surprises.

I really do hope Part Two gets made. And maybe then franchise can be saved. That being said, this film, on its own and by its own merit, was only mildly entertaining. Gorgeous, beautiful and impressive, but shallow, hollow and uninvolving.

Drive My Car ドライブ・マイ・カー

Who would have thought that a three-hour Japanese movie, based off a Haruki Murakami (村上 春樹) short story, intertwined with copious amount of Anton Chekhov's Uncle Vanya, that meditated on love, life, grief, guilt and letting go would so easily be one of the best films of the year so far. It was no wonder that Drive My Car won the Best Screenplay award at this year's Cannes Film Festival. This was an absolutely arresting, thoroughly engaging film that was well worth the three hours screen time. Admittedly, it did sag a bit in the Second Act, but the pay off in the end was worth it. 

Ryusuke Hamaguchi's (濱口 竜介) follow-up to the equally enigmatic Wife of a Spy, again employed a deceptively simple style of matter-of-fact storytelling but underlaid it with actors, characters, dialogue, mood, tone and atmosphere that was utterly rich in emotions with none of the histrionics. There were no big set pieces or moments of sparring emotions. Instead, Hamaguchi served us a subtle, elegant exploration of human emotion and human connection. It was minimalistically Japan-esque. 

Murakasami's words and themes were beautifully brought out and evolved from his much simpler short story of the same title. The addition of Chekhov to the script not only added a new layer of elegance but also served to smartly allow Hamaguchi to inform the audience and guide their experience without being overtly intrusive (a little tad heavy handed at the end, but the execution softened the blow).

However, this three-hour film would not have been tolerable if not for its cast, especially lead actor Hidetoshi Nishijima (西島 秀俊), Nishijima was practically there from the start to the end and in almost every scene (maybe even all the scenes). He has an enigmatic presence with a face that was sincere yet consistently hard to read. He and his character were equally guarded and unfathomable, but every time we get a new morsel of insight it was a whole new revelation. The quintessential Murakami protagonist.

But, like all good Murakami stories, the central male figure will need equally enigmatic and magnetic females. And, lucky us, we get three shining examples here. Reika Kirishima (霧島れいか), as Nishijima's character's metaphorically mysterious wife who dominated the First Act and was an ever present specter throughout; Toko Miura (三浦透子) as the wise beyond her years eponymous driver of the car with a backstory the slowly unfurled and magically, like in all Murakami stories, tied in with Nishijima's story; and Park Yoo-rim (박유림) as a mute-Korean actress in the play-within-the-movie who as Chekhov's Sonya personified the heart and emotional core of the film.

A little shout out to Masaki Okada (岡田 将生) who was the sort-of antagonist but in the end delivered a beautiful monologue that was piercing in its honesty and truth, and kind of redeemed him as a character.

And also to Eiko Ishibashi (石橋英子) for a lovely score to accompany the narrative.

Oscar season has now started! I hope this will be Japan's entry for the Best International Film Oscar.

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings [IMAX]

Shang-Chi was a well-paced, highly entertaining and exhilarating film to watch that was well punctuated with great comedic moments (mostly courtesy of Awkwafina - finally in a role that daftly balanced her comedic and dramatic chops) and viscerally exciting, mostly-kung fu, fight scenes. But, most importantly, it gave us perhaps the MCU's best villain since Tom Hiddleston's Loki with the infinitely charismatic Tony Leung's updated Mandarin - now known as Xu Wenwu. Leung owned the screen and essentially the whole movie with his presence, his acting and those ever-emoting eyes. 

Also, kudos to the rest of the great supporting cast, especially the equally charismatic Michelle Yeoh, an enigmatic Zhang Meng'er, surprise comedic relief Benedict Wong in what was essentially an extended cameo and scene stealers Sir Ben Kingsley and Morris.

With such an arresting supporting cast, Liu Simu, ostensibly the lead actor in his own superhero origin story, was unfortunately relegated to a seemingly peripheral role. He had great chemistry with Awkwafina and the early scenes with them both were immensely fun. However, once Liu met up with Leung in the Second Act, the gulf between the two actors was obvious and the latter effortlessly dominated the screen and the narrative. Even when Leung was off-screen, Liu's dramatic efforts of emoting loss and regret only served to highlight the disparity between a screen legend like Leung and a relative newbie like Liu. 

Directed by Destin Daniel Cretton, an Asian-American, we finally got an Asian superhero movie that broke down Asian stereotypes. Cretton and fellow co-writers, David Callaham and Andrew Lanham, subtly inserted racial politics into the screenplay and also not-so subtly broke down Orientalism with its normalisation of Asian martial arts, and religious and cultural beliefs. Some of it may have gone over the head of most Western audience, but to an Asian audience, the nods to Qing Ming festival, ancestral worship, Asian-millennial/Gen X angst, etc were well appreciated.

It was also refreshing to watch an MCU/big Hollywood film that started in Mandarin and with at least 20% of the on-screen dialogue also in Mandarin. Although it was rather annoying that there seemed to be no consistency in when the characters spoke English and when they spoke Mandarin - except for Awkwafina's character which was clearly - and authentically - an American who barely spoke her mother tongue. 

The action sequences were a major highlight up till the final climatic battle. Most of the early fight scenes were kung-fu based and the action choreography was strong. The fights were visceral but also graceful in their violence. Although it was a wasted opportunity not to have Leung and Yeoh have a spar-and-talk scene together. That would have been awesome! Instead, Leung's big fight was inevitably with Liu, and thankfully Leung was capable of acting solely with his eyes to imbue the fight with the significance and emotion that it deserved.

Unfortunately, in the end, the film succumbed to the MCU-mandatory CGI final battle that verged on messiness. It only got by because the larger and brighter IMAX screen allowed the action to be more easily discerned and distinguished. Not sure how it would look like on a smaller screen. 

Bill Pope was the cinematographer and music was by Joel P. West. Both of which were distinctive but also not entirely standouts. The IMAX experience really benefitted the film, especially with regards to the final battle. 

As usual, stay on for the standard MCU mid-credits and end-credits stingers which nicely set up future movies and/or Disney+ series.