Kong: Skull Island (2017)

In today's age of the nerd, it seemed inevitable that the kaiju genre might make an appearance in Hollywood. Sure enough, Legendary Pictures has taken up the mantle, almost entirely by themselves. They gave us Pacific Rim, then Godzilla, and now they've given us Kong: Skull Island, with the knowledge that they have acquired rights to other classic Toho monsters as they build for a cinematic kaiju universe (kaiju-verse? kaijuniverse?). Admittedly, I've never been a huge fan of Kong beside the technical aspect of it. The original 1933 film was groundbreaking and influenced an entire generation of filmmakers (including the Japanese creators who gave us the much superior film, Godzilla, in 1954). That said, there's just never been that much interesting stuff behind him. It's not that there's no substance at all; just that it's minor and not that compelling.

Kong: Skull Island suffers a lot of the same issues that have plagued the franchise overall and, frankly, the Legendary kaijuniverse too. What all films have in common is that they do the monster action incredibly well. Despite it's flaws, Godzilla produced two all-time great moments in the character's history. Pacific Rim also offered jaw-dropping action sequences, with an emphasis on scale and power. Kong: Skull Island similarly produces a number of memorable moments within the action. However, like the previous films, the characters and story leave a lot to be desired.

Lacking any real creativity, we once again focus on a group of military personnel (and a few eccentric scientists) as they search for Kong. In many ways, Kong: Skull Island has more in common with things like The Land that Time Forgot, Journey to the Center of the Earth, or even The Lost World than it does the original King Kong or any other kaiju film from yesteryears. After Kong attacks and kills much of the platoon, the survivors are separated and must reach the retrieval point. The island, however, is full of huge and deadly creatures that continue to threaten their lives. Meanwhile, commander Preston Packard (Samuel L. Jackson) is determined to kill Kong in revenge rather than bring his men to safety at the evac point.

Packard offers some substance and depth to an otherwise bland story. It is 1973 and Nixon has just announced a treaty to end the war in Vietnam. A decorated war hero, Packard is convinced that this peace treaty functions similarly to surrender; that all who died gave their lives for nothing. He harbors a grudge towards the peace activists back home, telling Brie Larson's character, "Sometimes a a camera is more dangerous than a gun!" before claiming, "We didn't lose the war; we abandoned it."

The events that unfold on Skull Island serve as a quasi-parallel to the Vietnam War. Everyone involved was under no actual threat from the creatures on this island, but John Goodman and his organization Monarch are convinced it will become a threat to the nation and the world. So, they opt to send troops and deploy bombs, which gets the attention of Kong. The giant gorilla retaliates in vicious fashion, killing a group of men that just a few days earlier, received word that they would be sent home. Meanwhile, rather than recognizing that going after Kong was resulting in additional deaths, Packard digs deeper. He wants to kill Kong just to display the power of the United States military.

Those parallels, which get brought up on a number of occasions (including a great moment wherein they discuss whether these enemies are actually enemies, or if they become enemies because we went looking for them), and that gives it a substance sorely lacking from Godzilla. Still, there's not really any getting around the fact that, for rather well defined characters, none of them really matter much. Most of them are there just to die. They give them brief moments in an attempt to get you to feel something, but at the end of the day, almost all of the soldiers are just fodder. Even more, Tom Hiddleston is completely wasted as the generic white action hero man, who isn't even that important to the story in any capacity. Similarly, Brie Larson is there as an anti-war photographer. She makes a momentary connection with Kong (as is tradition for a white woman to do), but otherwise, she also doesn't have any real impact on anything.

Quite literally, the only characters who matter are Kong and Packard, which makes it hard to care when the monsters start picking off the soldiers and scientists left and right. The story is ultimately better than that of Godzilla, it still leaves much to be desired. John C. Reilly is the only one whose talents they fully realized, but even then, his comedic relief often feels forced, and creates a strange tonal clash. The dialogue is a bit all over the place as well, with a few too many wall-breaking jokes. The very first line of dialogue, as Goodman tries to secure funding from a Senator, is a silly, "Mark my words: there will never be a more dysfunctional time in Washington." Har har har. GET IT?!?

The film also serves as "world building." The entire beginning of the film serves almost exclusively to connect to Godzilla, so that they can build the "cinematic kaijuniverse." The post credits scene even goes all Iron Man in the way it spells out there is a larger world of monsters. It ends with Godzilla's roar, and I don't entirely get it. For starters, if ever a genre of film did not need "world building" and "continuity," it's the kaiju genre. Just play with the toys! If you argue that the lack of interesting human characters or drama is irrelevant because people just want to see monsters fight each other, then explore that! Use that to your advantage. (Granted, they appeared to have heard criticism of not enough Godzilla in Godzilla, and they do the complete opposite of "teasing" Kong. He is on full display within minutes of the film.)  It also just seems strange to tease a movie that came out three years ago.

To be sure, there is much to like and appreciate about the film. Kong: Skull Island goes out of its way to avoid too many similarities with the previous remakes. There is no return to civilization, nor climbing New York's skyline. There are some, of course, most notably his affection for the central female character. The story also makes it seem more like an anti-war film than a generic monster movie. And at the end of the day, the action is still great. (Though I find it disappointing that these Western kaiju films continue to be very military-centric, and that they are almost entirely CGI with no discernible practical effects - part of the charm of the genre - it's hard to ignore that these films do have good monster battles.)

Still, it drags throughout - a result of splitting up the group into three for a bit. The writing isn't bad, but it's not particularly great either. Many of the complaints levied at Godzilla easily apply here. Like with Godzilla and Pacific Rim, there is something truly great just under the surface, but the writers just can't quite get there. While the Legendary kaijuniverse is not the train wreck of a cinematic universe that, say, DC's is, there are plenty of reasons to be concerned. Godzilla 2 is supposed to come out in 2019, and then King Kong vs. Godzilla will release in 2020. Given how none of their kaiju films have been especially huge box office hits, it wouldn't be at all surprising to see the entire enterprise collapse before that point. Godzilla 2 has already seen a director step down and the release date get pushed back a full year. I'm not sure Kong: Skull Island will really drive up enthusiasm for the larger universe.

That said, it's still a fun experience worth seeing in theaters. I'd just maybe suggest going on discount day, or to the matinee.

As an aside: I really wish more directors would shoot in the 1.85 aspect ratio. Guillermo del Toro did for Pacific Rim, and it's great because it maximizes the height of the screen. This helps increase the scale of the giant monsters. The anamorphic 2.40 ratio (cinematic widescreen) is a commonly used format for the "epic, action blockbuster," but there's something a bit disappointing about seeing a giant gorilla fighting a giant lizard creature with the image not taking up the entire height. Feels like an easy way to push the sense of size with these super tall beings. Both Godzilla and Kong: Skull Island use the scope 2.40 ratio.

REDUCTIVE RATING: It's Fine

Something Stupid: Episode 3 - Kong: Skull Island (And Legendary Issues)

So kind of a repeat in some ways, but mostly I just talk at length about the trouble with Legendary's kaiju universe (kaijuniverse?). I also try to prove my nerd mettle with a couple of online Godzilla quizzes.

Logan (2017)

Of all the comic book movie franchises, X-Men has been the most inconsistent. It ranges from legitimately awful (X-Men Origins: Wolverine, Apocalypse) to mediocre (X-Men, Days of Future Past, The Last Stand) to pretty solid (The Wolverine, Deadpool) to pretty good (X2: United, First Class). Spanning nearly two full decades, the series partially responsible for kicking off the superhero movie craze has also survived almost exclusively on that craze. When the movies are awful, there's no concern that the franchise won't just continue on in spite of it.

After seventeen years of mostly Wolverine-centric stories, and some of the most perfect castings in comic book movies with Hugh Jackman and Patrick Stewart, Logan might be the only installment worth considering "great" within the genre. Perhaps the biggest reason is that director James Mangold has embraced the fact that the X-Men timeline makes no sense. It has become an especially convoluted mess with Days of Future Past. Instead of trying to cram it somewhere in the larger universe and its timeline, Mangold and company decided to craft a story mostly independent of it. Yes, there are references to the first X-Men, but they are quick and subtle moments. There isn't a requirement to have seen it to understand.  And yes, this works especially well if you are familiar with at least the first film, in which you go in understanding that Wolverine and Professor X are mutants who have formed a bond. Still, that is pretty well implied from the get-go, regardless.

The story takes place in 2029 at a time when mutants have been dying out due to a mysterious virus. Wolverine is dying because the adamantium covering his skeleton is poisoning his body, and the virus is impeding his healing ability. Charles Xavier is in his 90s and has suffered degenerative brain diseases, making him incredibly dangerous if not properly medicated. Everyone else is long gone. The focus on a smaller cast of characters provided adequate time for the few central ones to develop and display proper arcs. When the two retired superheroes find a new mutant girl escaping from a lab creating mutant soldiers, they opt to help escort her from Mexico to Canada. Xavier, predictably, desperately wants to help. Logan, per usual, begrudgingly does. He wants to remain isolated.

Essentially, it's a story that combines elements of Mark Millar's (very overrated) Old Man Logan story and The Last of Us video game. A road trip movie in a bleak, but relatively grounded world, it sets up an emotional journey. The character arc for Logan is not an unfamiliar one - the rough, loner Wolverine reluctantly makes a connection with a young girl and becomes a somewhat protective father figure by the end, like in X-Men - but it is a bit different, and the parallels serve as a nice bookend to the Hugh Jackman take on the character. He starts off more angry at the world, and more reserved than he did in the first film, and he seems to try even harder to avoid making a connection with Laura (X-23). This actually highlights that he has been through an emotional roller coaster that ended with more lows than highs. We know he's been through the ringer at the start in 2000, but he's clearly been through a lot worse by 2017.

What makes Logan stand out above the fray is its lack of concern about "world building," or even making sure to fit into the larger cinematic timeline. Nerds can, obviously, argue about its placement, but the filmmakers clearly don't care much about it. They used the toys in the sandbox to create a unique story with a darker, yet more character-driven story, with no concern about putting the toys back. This allowed for creative freedom not really seen in the franchise before, and is sorely lacking in the superhero genre.

The action is violent, complete with decapitations, skull piercing claw stabs, loss of limbs, and plenty of moments that seem completely out of place for a genre that has played it safe in the world of PG-13. Additionally, there is no shortage of cussing (sometimes a little excessive and unnecessary and feeling a bit like they did it just because they could). There is even a moment wherein a woman flashes Logan. Suffice to say, this is not a superhero movie for kids.

And that's what makes it actually pretty interesting. The violence actually sort of serves as a deconstruction of the genre. Superheroes fight mostly because they have to. No one wants to see super-powered beings talk things over. There always has to be a fight sequence that ultimately feels rather safe for the main characters. Fisticuffs is the only way they can solve problems, and it kind of cycles into this idea that violence is fun. It's fictional boxing, basically. In Logan, the violence occurs because the heroes literally have no choice. They are vulnerable and being pursued by people who want to harm them. They would prefer to flee to Canada and live in safety. At the end, the new mutant kids take flight, only resorting to fighting when there is clearly no alternative. This is violence with emotion and with purpose, rather than just because it has to be there.

There is a weight to the action as well. At no point does it feel like the main characters are safe. By limiting the healing factor of Wolverine, even he feels exposed. When he gets shot or hit, there is legitimate concern. At the very beginning of the film, he is being subdued by a bunch of random car jackers who give him a limp just by kicking him a bunch. This is not the overpowered Wolverine of Bryan Singer years.

Logan might also feature the best acting in a superhero movie outside of the Nolan Batman trilogy. Patrick Stewart and Hugh Jackman have always been great as Charles Xavier and Wolverine respectively, but they put in such powerful, nuanced, and emotional performances that it makes you realize that they've never truly capitalized on that before. Their swan song before retiring the roles (barring any random cameos - both have said they will not be portraying these characters in a major capacity going forward), they could not have gone out on a higher note. Even Dafne Keen (Laura/X-23) was excellent, despite being silent for the first two acts of the film. And, of course, the world could always use more Stephen Merchant (who plays Caliban).

Where the movie ultimately struggles is in some of its pacing. One trope that it engaged with to its detriment was the random cutting back to the villain just to show him being one step behind. If ever a superhero movie did not need to do that, it was this one. It is clear from the moment Xavier and Logan flee Mexico that they will be chased. Rather than unnecessarily cutting back to the bad guy to remind us he's the bad guy and he's on their trail, they could have focused more of that time on the Logan/Laura relationship. That was mostly well done, but could have used another scene or two of them actually bonding in some capacity. Given the story was about the character arc of Wolverine and his connection with Laura, there was no need to show the villain doing villainous things in pursuit. The story wasn't about that, and those scenes broke up the pacing. For a film that also treated its viewers as intelligent humans capable of figuring things out through context clues, it felt a little backwards to then engage in this genre trope that slows things up and makes it seem like we can't figure out that this bad guy is a bad guy.

This was almost exactly the kind of thing I want more of in the genre: stories using well-defined characters in original stories that are complete. Continuity is fine sometimes, but the superhero genre is rife for awesome, original content. This need to fit everything into the "timeline" or the "universe" harms creativity of the filmmakers. Logan falls into some structural traps of the genre, but otherwise has its own unique vision and executes it well. Admittedly, some of the emotion is based around being familiar with Hugh Jackman's stint as Wolverine, and knowing this is his send-off, but it all still works well.

People raved about Deadpool last year, and for fair reasons, but Logan will be the R-rated X-Men connected film that stands the test of time.

REDUCTIVE RATING: Awesome!

Something Stupid: Episode 2 - King Kong v. Godzilla

Tonight, I lose sleep thinking about something very near and dear to my heart: how the hell does Legendary Pictures think it's going to pull off a solid King Kong v. Godzilla in 2020? The miracle here, of course, is that I kept this under half an hour. Normally, once I start talking Godzilla, it goes for about the duration of Peter Jackson's King Kong!

Something Stupid: Episode 1 - "All-Star" by Smash Mouth

New podcast, about random topics that keep me up at night. Could be about something serious or meaningful, but likely to just cover a bunch of random crap that no one cares about. But hey, if you ever wanted to hear me talk about "All-Star" by Smash Mouth for half an hour, you're in the right place!

INSIDE interpretation with spoilers.

So much of the game deals with themes of control. While the details of what has happened to this world are shady, something is clearly amiss. Many people appear to be literal drones incapable of thought. You run by a city of workers following in step as they make their way to a nearby facility. The people that are not are chasing you, the player, in an effort to detain and subdue you. Some puzzles even require you to use a mind-control device to make the drones do your bidding. Late stages of the game also see what appears to be a bunch of scientists in a research lab as they examine the results of their work. In story, it deals heavily with concepts of control, which are paralleled by virtue of being a video game in which the player controls a character.

At the same time, it's so cryptic that I kind of feel like it has to be about something else entirely. Some have argued it is a commentary about the state of games, and how they are trying too hard to be cinematic, providing all players with identical experiences. This could be seen in the section wherein the boy has to blend in by waking and stopping in perfect stride, and jump when the other people jump, and spin when the other people spin. Some gamers argue that a growing problem in the industry is the popularity of cinematic, linear games. Your experience with Uncharted 4 is not ultimately going to be that different from mine, for example, whereas we could have very different experiences playing Skyrim. It is a fair criticism to some extent (I disagree with it completely, but I understand where that comes from). However, I'm unconvinced that is what the game is trying to do given that Inside and Limbo are ultimately linear games with universal experiences themselves. Seems strange that they might be criticizing themselves.

Then I feel the need to dig deeper, and I can't help but wonder if the whole thing is ultimately just about human conception and birth (and then I think I'm a crazy person!).  I know, I know. I'm almost certainly reading way too much into it, and I'm sure I'm the only weirdo on Earth who finished the game thinking this, but hear me out.

It didn't really hit me until late in the game, in particular near the very end when you wind up submerged in a tank with something looking kind of like an embryo and you end up getting pulled inside it. Then, you are this strange, amorphous fetus-looking monster rampaging through the research lab where everyone is watching. This happens, of course, after you break the glass on the tank, flooding the facility (water breaking). You then make your way through the still linear pathways, at some point getting covered in blood, before finally escaping the dark world you were involved with the whole time and resting in the one section of sunlight, just breathing. (I read this as a sort of "escaping the darkness of the womb into the light of the outside world.")

Of course, once that idea popped in there, I couldn't help but think back to the beginning of the game. In the early stages, advancing requires more speed than problem solving. You have to outrun men with flashlights and dogs just to get into the relative safety of the farm area. Was it a visual parallel to the journey of sperm as the fastest can get through to the relative safety of the cervix? Slow sperm die quickly in the vagina  There is other imagery as well. For example, to get into the final facility (where the "egg" is), the boy has to get through an entrance that does not stay open for long. Then, to avoid being shot back out from fans, you have to stick to the walls of the narrow vent (like sperm have to stick to the Fallopian tube wall).

I also wondered if everyone rushing to the tank (where the "egg" was) was actually indicative of it being time for birth. All the scientists hurried to watch what was happening, perhaps representing what happens socially when a woman goes into labor. Doctors and nurses attend to the women; families halt what they're doing to go to the hospital; et cetera. And, I can't help but feel as though the title of the game - Inside - is ultimately a subtle hint here. Inside? Inside what? Is it really just meant to mean that you infiltrate these facilities? A fair amount of the game isn't even actually inside them. There is the forest, farm, and city, for example, before eventually you submerge (which, the sudden shift in direction at that moment could be representative of the sperm having to pick a direction). Does the title actually refer to the idea that all this is just representation of what happens inside a woman's body when procreating?

Naturally, this would not be a perfect interpretation. There are plenty of gaps there, and I'm sure everyone is more than capable of tearing this take apart. But for whatever reason, that was what I strangely think the game is actually about in a super meta-narrative sense.

I am also almost certainly crazy, and why this might be on my brain otherwise is beyond me at the moment.

Inside (2016)

Sometimes, simplicity makes for greatness. Developers can find something that isn't too complex, do it really well, and voila! You've got an excellent game. Playdead's previous game, Limbo, took a simple concept - a side scrolling puzzle game - and excelled at making it dark and atmospheric. Their follow up, Inside, builds on that. Very similar in structure, it goes even further in creating a disquieting, disturbing environment despite being particularly stylized animation and a simple puzzle side-scroller.

The beauty of Inside is in its lack of direction. Yes, by virtue of being a side-scroller, players can only move to the left or the right, but there are never any prompts. Get stuck on a puzzle for long enough, the game provides no clues to assist you. You are on your own, just like the boy you play as. This element creates a parallel feeling between player and character; it's also why solving puzzles and advancing is extremely gratifying. The lack of aid makes it all the more satisfying when you finally do figure out what you're supposed to do.

Like Limbo before it, Inside tells a story through imagery and some gameplay mechanics only. One thing that sets it apart from other games, especially side-scrollers, is the use of background. When push comes to shove, you will take nothing away from the game in a story sense if you just don't pay any attention to it. While we never find out anything specific, the clues of what is going on are there. The developers do a good job training players to observe the background as well. In the beginning, they have several threats come at you from the backdrop. People with flashlights and dogs rush at you from background to foreground, not left to right. This specifically forces players to pay attention to the background, even though for much of it, there is no gameplay reason to do so. It's really well thought out construction.

The specifics of the story are subtle and often vague. While the background really contributes to it, the strongest aspect is the atmosphere. It is creepy and chilling at the beginning, when you control a young boy fleeing men in trucks. It gets terrifying and anxiety-inducing whenever you have run-ins with dogs. The quiet air with only the sound of your footsteps creates a tension. You often can't help but wonder what is going to come at you next. Panic sets in when you have to swim under structures and you begin to lose your breath. Blending the familiar with the strange makes for a game that is very disquieting and subtly disturbing.

The challenge of discussing more about Inside is that one doesn't want to give too much away. It is such a beautiful, chilling game, and so much of it is just out of the lack of knowledge. If you've played Limbo, then you are familiar with the kind of world they like. Yet even then, there is much about Inside that you don't expect. Suffice it to say that if you are going to play it, you should avoid any and all specifics if you can.

That said, I want to throw out some thoughts - if only for my own sake as I try to sort them.


Click here for my strange interpretation, with some spoilers.


Either way, Inside is a tense, rewarding, unique experience that you really should see for yourself. It's a lot to digest, but it's a great meal to consume.

REDUCTIVE RATING: It's Awesome!