Tag: dc

Henry Cavill in Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (2016)

Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film ReviewsLeave a comment

The classic matchup in comic book lore.

They’ve fought over 100 times. Guess who wins more often?

Bruce.

Why? It’s unconventional storytelling. Consider symbolically; B = Earth : S = Krypton.

How? The Bat plans ahead and brings 3 things:

  • Gadgetry – Batvehicles, lead lined spaces, turret cannons
  • Allies – Nightwing, Batgirl, Green Arrow, etc.
  • Kryptonite – You know…

Batman v Superman is the first to attempt this onscreen.

It is the 3rd in viewing order, following Man of Steel & Wonder Woman.

Noxious Public Opinion

The greatest fumbling in contemporary cinema is Warner Brothers’ response in the wake of Man of Steel’s critical disfavor.

Zack Snyder’s fall from critical grace coincides with peak enthusiasm for Rotten Tomatoes, the critics’ megaphone. The derision for DC’s new direction permeated public discourse. I would hear friends’ parroting empty arguments w/o ever having seen the film.

Thus critical dissent infected the masses. Handwringing studio heads cripple Snyder’s vision.

Sever the inspired legs

Snyder filmed an R-rated film. WB responds to public opinion. This wouldn’t do, not with all the dissent aclamor.

Theatrically they release a neutered version. PG-13 and only 151 minutes long. Cohesiveness and relatability be damned. An incomprehensible followup to the grounded entertainment of MOS & WW.

The Ultimate Edition (182 minutes)

The ONLY way to watch BvS.

Is this a conversation?

Late 2016 I’m shooting the breeze w/ 3 mid-twenties friends: Peter, Paul & Judas.

Peter, Paul & I saw MOS & BvS together. Including our 2nd BvS viewing; this time, The Ultimate Edition.

Talking film; somebody mentions DC.
“Superman is the worst,” Judas says.
“Why?” I ask.
“Too many powers. Nobody can beat him.”
“I can relate to that. Have you seen Man of Steel?”
“No, but I heard it sucks.”
“I’d recommend, think you’d enjoy,” I gesture to Peter & Paul, “Saw it with these two jags,” who remain silent, “Guys – did you like Man of Steel?”
They confirm flatly.
“What about Batman v Superman? That sucked, right?” Judas asks.
Peter & Paul wear poker faces.
“Well which version…” I pause & reapproach, “…did you see it in the theater?”
“Naw, I never saw. Everybody says it’s terrible…”

…and the conversation ends further back from where we started.

Intellectual regression

Folks are unafraid to speak with conviction armed with only second-hand knowledge.

Judas is not irrational. He enjoys film too. And, watched in earnest, WOULD like BvS: DOJ (TUE). But I guarantee he hasn’t. Despite my masterfully measured responses.

The most baffling part: Peter & Paul’s silence. We’re not in a group setting where they’re in danger of being judged. Both brilliant and thoroughly onboard with Snyder/DC’s recent direction.

So why the fear? Why not just tell Judas how he’s missing out?

Believe in…

Don’t emulate critics / popular opinion; see the film and form your own discourse. Try to dislike The Ultimate Edition – I dare you.

Don’t be Judas.

Be Jes…er, Stephen.

★★★ ★★★ ★★★

Briefer takes at IMDb & Letterboxd.

Superman looks to the side while standing on a sunlit city street

Superman

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film ReviewsLeave a comment

Zack Snyder had the right idea.

Superman always works.

But sometimes, different doesn’t mean better.

“A nice new change of pace” is NOT an apt description here.

The MCU wouldn’t even exist without Superman.

Hero #1

He’s the original cape. The figurehead of comic books. He deserves a better tribute – realism, a grounded viewer, relatability.

Superman is the everyman. The most virtuous expression of American male decency. He’s our collective spokehole.

So his dog should behave better. This isn’t some schlub.

Krypto has never appeared in a live-action film before – and for good reason.

The dog is CGI for the entire film. It looks clearly animated in every moment. Our main character has a deus ex machina at his beck and call. It never stops barking or biting at ankles. This loser can’t control his dog – isn’t that relatable?

The use of CGI is this film’s biggest problem. It assumes the audience will accept any and all animation as part of reality’s fabric: a flying villain in the beginning, Superman’s robots, both giant monsters (one standing, one flying), Green Lantern’s constructs, etc.

#3 Green Lantern of Earth

The choice to use Guy Gardner is one of the film’s few inspired decisions. Nathan Fillion is excellent, as always. The man’s a true pro – enjoyable.

Most viewers recognize Nathan Fillion. That’s the first red flag – because nobody wants to critique him. That casting choice functions as a critic shield.

The Justice Gang, in general, feels tacked on and shoddy. Makeup and wardrobe underdeliver. Hawkgirl looks like a woman who put too much effort into comic con. Lantern too.

Mister Terrific

Steals the show.

Such a difficult character to pull off in live-action – and the film mostly succeeds here.

Not a Mysterious Cameo

A new character appears just before the conclusion. High-powered and beloved – even I got excited by the momentary glimpse. However, the character serves Gunn’s ‘socially practical’ directing method more than the story.

A fleeting piece of overindulgence. Its presence doesn’t serve the plot we’ve just watched. Where were they during this most recent turmoil?

Teasing Clark, jokily cursing at him. Which is fun – but does nothing. Surface-level, unsubstantial, gimmicky.

Warner Brothers has repackaged Superman to be more likeable and mainstream. That’s much easier to do with unabashed use of cheats like CGI, green screen and avoiding location shoots. Using masked background actors (like the Earth police force) or post-production sound editing (like ADR).

Speaking of audio, the film is often too loud. Especially during pummelings. This points to a self-conscious approach to filmmaking.

Characters often talk over each other. Feels very Blue Beetle-y – the worst DC film ever produced. Another Gunnified piece. Children interact this way, not adults.

Superman packs similar material. The creators ensured that no evidence of harm came to any individual adult. Superman even wants to tranquilize the kaiju so they can study it.

But this is absurd and nonsensical. Given its size, we must assume that casualties have already occurred. Why would Superman think there’s time for tranquilization? Each wasted moment could cost hundreds of lives.

There are two moments involving CGI squirrels. Superman saves one. Isn’t that…bland?

James Gunn

Everybody’s favorite director came out hot with The Belko Experiment and Guardians of the Galaxy. Small and big. Both excellent.

But Guardians 2 was only okay. Guardians 3 was inadequate. [The holiday special’s better.]

And The Suicide Squad did not prove to be as good – or as life-changing – as people made it out to be. It certainly did not upgrade from the previous version. The film featured a starfish-shaped kaiju, rendered in computer graphics no less.

It’s nice that people are supportive, but Clark’s story deserves inspired direction. This is cookie-cutter filmmaking. Nothing edgy or compelling to the narrative.

The first film delivers the viewer a universe of endless possibility.

He should appear like a firefly in a coal mine. Here, he’s a beacon illuminating infinite tunnel potential – seemingly boundless choice.

Stick to the Universe

Not exciting compared with Snyder’s motivation. This takes things in a decidedly different direction. This isn’t so much Kal’s Earth as it is everybody’s Earth.

Rather – everybody’s socially acceptable Earth. Irritating personality quirks and all.

This is “Aw, shucks” Superman with his podunk parents. He’s just doing his best, ya know?

That instinct – to attempt something different – is good. It allows the film one of its best moments with Pa Kent.

It’s just not that interesting. Yes, it’s different. It’s NOT better.

Not trying to waste my free time on dull-edged Superman. I go to the theater for an experience – not more of the same thing everyone’s doing.

But DC and James Gunn made that choice. This should be better, people. So time to get in line.

Snyder set too high a bar. If Gunn’s Superman had come before Man of Steel, this incarnation might be more acceptable. But instead, it illustrates submission to public opinion – and a broader de-elevation of the DC brand.

★★★★

Briefer thoughts at IMDb & Letterboxd. Or check out The Fantastic Four: First Steps instead!

Faora wearing Kryptonian armor and helmet in Man of Steel (2013)

Man of Steel

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film ReviewsLeave a comment

Superman has numerous powers.
Too many, right? I once thought so.
But that’s a surface-level misunderstanding – one born of parody, not canon.

Detective Comics

DC doesn’t write books by listing new powers like bullet points. Clark’s core abilities are constant. They exist to serve the story, not overwhelm it. And that story – the real one – is deeper, richer; more substantial than most people are acquainted with.

I thought I knew Superman.

Faster than a speeding bullet!
Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound!
More powerful than a locomotive!

“Look! Up in the sky!”
“It’s a bird!”
“It’s a plane!”
“No, it’s Superman!”

Those are the lines.
But they were never the point.
The story is the point.

The Rotten Tomatoes Disservice

Man of Steel remains one of the most unfairly dismissed films of the past decade. Its Rotten Tomatoes score – 57% – has branded it “rotten” from the outset. But that score doesn’t reflect its quality. It illustrates a misunderstanding of what the film is trying to do.

Many critics resorted to vague complaints about “tone” and “direction,” often struggling to identify specific failings. Some disliked the film’s intensity, citing the destruction and danger as “too much.” The sound of automatic gunfire, the collapse of buildings, the terror of watching humanity scramble against impossible odds – it all felt too heavy, too loud.

But that weight is exactly what gives Man of Steel its power.

The Necessity of Consequence

If Superman is to exist in a grounded, realistic world, then the world must feel real when he fights. The destruction isn’t gratuitous – it’s logical. You don’t have an alien invasion without consequence. You don’t face off against Kryptonians in the heart of a city without collateral damage. If skyscrapers fall, it’s because they would. If soldiers fire their weapons, it’s because they must.

The film doesn’t flinch away from this. And why should it? The point isn’t devastation for its own sake – it’s scale, stakes and truth.

Superman isn’t just powerful. He’s responsible. Man of Steel honors that weight.

A Grounded Reimagining

A film about choice.
Clark doesn’t stumble into heroism. He earns it – through loss, hesitation and moral decision-making.

The film builds a myth that respects intelligence. Jor-El and Lara are scientists, not mystics. Krypton isn’t just a backdrop – it’s a civilization in decline. General Zod isn’t evil in the traditional sense – he’s terrifying because he believes he’s right.

And that matters. Because Clark has to confront what he might have become.

When Zod hijacks Earth’s televisual broadcast to speak to the world – it’s chilling. His flickering, staticky broadcast feels like an intrusion. Like a terrorist signal cutting through national borders. There’s something unsettling about how plausible it is. That moment, more than anything, shows what the film gets right: it understands fear. It understands awe.

The Snyder Vision

Zack Snyder is often misunderstood. People call his work “style over substance,” but that’s lazy criticism.
In Man of Steel, the style is substance.

The camerawork is intimate and deliberate. The flashback structure fragments the origin story in a way that mirrors Clark’s inner dislocation – one moment he’s a child, the next he’s lost in the world, then suddenly he’s something more.

Kevin Costner is magnetic as Jonathan Kent – quiet, conflicted, principled. Diane Lane brings warmth and steadiness as Martha. Michael Shannon’s Zod commands the screen with tragic conviction. Amy Adams gives us a Lois Lane who’s smart, grounded and emotionally tuned. And Henry Cavill – measured, noble, physically exacting – is the most believable Superman in decades.

The CGI is precise and atmospheric. Krypton feels fully realized, not sketched. The fights are fast, disorienting, but never meaningless. Every punch has gravity. Every blast of force changes the geography.

Snyder directs the action with real weight – not just visual heft, but moral weight. This isn’t spectacle for its own sake. It’s action that reflects power, and the consequences of power.

A Better Tomorrow

This is the Superman who hides in shadows. The one who’s feared before he’s embraced. A man unsure of what he’s meant to be until the moment requires him to be it.

The myth is here – but it’s repurposed for a modern framework.
Hans Zimmer’s score – soulful, slowly building, pulsing with restraint. It suits this Superman: less boy scout, more bruised idealist. A man who wants to do good – but isn’t yet sure how.

That moral confusion isn’t a weakness of the film – it’s the focus.

Truth, Justice & The American Way

The only other screen adaptation that captures Superman this fully – without requiring a dive into comics – is Superman: The Animated Series. That show, like this film, took Krypton seriously. It built a society with consequences. A people worth mourning. A world that matters.

Man of Steel belongs in that tier.

It’s a balanced, measured reintroduction. A myth rebuilt from the ground up – richer, graver and more honest than most audiences expected.

Man of Steel‘s not a film about superpowers.
It’s about restraint, pressure, loss and the cost of virtue.
It’s about learning how to rise.

This isn’t the Superman who smiles for the camera.
This is the Superman who brawls, who chooses, who endures.

Man of Steel is a serious film about a serious man.
Worthy of our collective esteem.

★★★★★ ★★★★★

For briefer thoughts: IMDb & Letterboxd. Or read The Batman, BvS or Superman for more DC.

Batman stands in front of a graffitied glass panel with the word "LIES" in red paint

The Batman

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film ReviewsLeave a comment

It’s not a competition, but DC is better than Marvel.
Nowhere is that clearer than The Batman.

To produce a standalone Bruce Wayne in the wake of The Dark Knight trilogy is a tremendous task. DC rises to the occasion. Look where it ranks:

Top Films 2022

  • The Batman
  • Avatar: The Way of Water
  • Top Gun: Maverick
  • The Menu
  • Everything Everywhere All At Once

The historical grounding is subtle – Bruce scribbling in a journal marked “Year Two” and Alfred already ferklempt. This year-by-year breakdown of Batman’s career comes from contemporary comic lore. Starting in Year Two is smart. Gotham already fears him. He’s a vigilante, formidable but not mythic. Gordon’s still a detective, unaligned with our hero.

It’s the dawn of Gotham’s supervillainy.

Batman is a figment of darkness. In the opening scene, he coalesces out of shadow – emerging from the sunless landing beneath Gotham’s raised trainline like a tendril of justice. One that slithers from the living darkness at the city’s core.

This metaphysical undercurrent – how light and dark are used – carries through the film.
Binocular perspectives. Reinforced glass dividing observer from criminal. A drug-induced haze, vision warped. Even Catwoman’s POV – filtered and unreliable. Or maybe it’s Batman’s?

And the sound design – massive. Warner Bros. mics the costume. Rain plops and patters on Kevlar. Rubber squeals as pruning shears stab. Escaping air whines from a punctured tire.
You feel the impact. A thug’s bat breaks across Batman’s armored back; and it looks like it hurts. Pattinson commits to the realism. The first Batmobile misfires and sputters before finally roaring to life.

He glides off a rooftop – no green screen. That’s Pattinson himself, doing the stunt.
It’s all in service of tone. Dark. Gritty. Haphazard. Real.

The production uses nearly no noticeable CGI. Everything feels shot on-location. The only piece of cheap animation? A clump of machinery dangling from a cable mid-climax. It stands out because everything else feels grounded.

Christopher Nolan’s trilogy isn’t perfect – it’s cinematic. Broad, tight, blockbuster storytelling. Consider:

The Nolan Runtimes

  • Batman Begins (2005): 140 minutes
  • The Dark Knight (2008): 155 minutes
  • The Dark Knight Rises (2012): 165 minutes

Perfect intervals. Almost too tidy.

The Batman runs 176 minutes – longest solo Batman film ever. Some call it excessive. That’s hogwash. A 130-minute origin story would’ve been safer. Instead, Warner Bros. commits to the well. The depth of the fiction justifies the length.

And The Batman gives us more Bruce Wayne in Gotham than Nolan ever did.
Nolan’s Bruce mostly broods or playacts (see: the fountain scene). Pattinson offers layers. In the funeral scene, he oscillates between his halves. Bruce acting Batmany. Bruce acting Brucey.

Each major character in this story is an orphan. But the divergence is the point.
Bruce turns grief into action. Wealth into justice. His loss defines him, but he gives.
Selina Kyle? She steals what she needs and what she wants. She trusts no one.
Edward Nashton? He seethes. Imagines Bruce’s pain came cushioned by silk sheets. Both boys lost their parents. Only one inherited a mansion. The other got rot, and resents the myth of the benevolent orphan prince.

The Batman doesn’t just retell the tale. It re-centers it. From multiple lenses of loss—each refracting through crime, cause and consequence.

★★★★★ ★★★★★

Read shorter versions on IMDb and Letterboxd. Or Man of Steel.

Dr. Manhattan faces Rorschach in a snowy standoff outside Veidt’s complex

Watchmen Chapter II

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film ReviewsLeave a comment

You don’t understand. You all think I’m trapped in here with you, but you’re all trapped in here with me.

Rorschach vs Dr. Manhattan. Who wins?

This marks my fourth experience with this story. My first full grasp of the real villain, tho.

I’m 19 when Zack Snyder’s Watchmen (2009) hits theaters. My dad is 53. We go together.

Experience #1) Watchmen: The Theatrical Cut (2009) [162 minutes]

Neither of us knows there’s a graphic novel. I’m just excited for R-rated superheroes. We don’t know what to expect.

He drives, buys our tickets and stays awake the whole runtime. Noteworthy.

We don’t discuss much afterward. It shook us. Neither can say we loved it. Dad doesn’t dislike it – he just can’t explain what there is to like.

I can’t say I enjoy it either.

I don’t understand why it’s so dark, or why nothing feels satisfying. Who has powers? How do we intuit such details as the story unfolds?

Years later, I read the graphic novel.

Experience #2: Watchmen (Moore & Gibbons 1986) [414 pages]

A 10-star book. Still sad, but less bleak. Beams of sunshine peek through. It’s an intricate character study which raises philosophical questions and challenges moral ambiguity.

Provides a unique meditation on the topic of sexual violence. How memory transforms thru time. Events reframe across retellings.

Only one character actually has a “super power.”

Soon after reading, I rewatch Snyder’s version with a friend.

Experience #3: Watchmen: The Director’s Cut (2009) [186 minutes]

Suddenly, the inspired magnificence illuminates.

The truth: Watchmen is rich and powerful, demands revisiting.

Don’t expect love on first watch, especially without context. The story is tragic, philosophically heavy. The world has concrete rules, but not obvious parameters. Dr. Manhattan informs Laurie of something she’ll soon admit – and then appears surprised when she does. How’s that work?

I still wonder. That alone justifies this animated duology. Watchmen’s material warrants a full return.

A key difference between the graphic novel and Snyder’s film lies in the ending, a change that irks purists.

But Snyder’s entitled to artistic license. His film is nothing if not reverent. Much of Watchmen (2009) recreates the source material frame-by-frame, panel-by-panel. Capturing the stillness of the graphic novel with uncanny precision. Each cinematic composition is a living comic panel, frozen in tone, mood and arrangement. It’s a historic achievement in adaptation.

Most fan criticism stems from Snyder’s refusal to depict the novel’s original conclusion.

The animated version does. We see the squid. Watch it land.

Experience #4) Watchmen Chapters I & II (2024) [84 & 89 mins]

The animated two parter can be considered a product of its live action predecessor; a further grounding of the narrative in realism. Brute savagery and elaborate fight choreography are de-emphasized for the sake of more intimate character interactions.

A more tender form of the story is revealed. Favoring relationship fodder like the mutual respect between Dan & Rorschach. Less intrigue, perhaps, than the graphic novel. But a much clearer telling is the result.

A Dr. Manhattan one can more easily sympathize with. His personal agenda, use of subterfuge and potentially sinister intents are distanced from the spotlight. This Jon’s more dutiful puppet.

Nite Owl & Silk Spectre II

Between halves, the narrative focus shifts – from Blake and Osterman to Dreiberg and Juspeczyk. Here, richer traces of redemption emerge.

They form the emotional core of Chapter II. The film even inverts their relationship: it’s Nite Owl who is found bare-butt, musing. He’s the one who struggles in bed.

Another inversion of traditional gender roles: Laurie’s apathy toward the escalating situation – her avoidance – suggests a certain cowardly carelessness. Dan, on the other hand, can’t run or hide.

His intuition tells him they’re nearing a point of no return. His body won’t cooperate with basic self-interest. Unlike Jon, Dan’s identity is rooted in being an individual within a collaborative community.

Midair Intercourse

Only after rescuing civilians from a burning building do Dan and Laurie consummate their connection – hovering in Archie, Nite Owl’s airship. Remote. Removed. Secluded from all else. An impossible act to witness.

Sometime after, Dr. Manhattan phases back to Earth mid-flight, entering Archie directly from Mars. That would require near-omniscience – yet he’s clearly unaware of Laurie’s current location, thoughts or behavior. He isn’t monitoring her. Jon only sees what he wants to. He burrows into quantum abstraction to avoid the harsher duty of self-governance.

Laurie, meanwhile, is searching for the missing piece to her jigsaw memory. She’s never been the most sympathetic character – nobody feels bad for Superman’s girlfriend – but here, her pathos becomes clear. She makes the courageous decision to speak to Jon on Mars. Her intentions are noble, unromantic.

She frames it as a mission for the people of Earth. That’s how she puts it to Dan – just before seemingly abandoning him. But she’s also attempting to take agency of the situation. Instead of being forced or commanded to go to Mars, she chooses to go.

I do wonder how events progress differently if she insists Jon speak with her on respectful terms. At a pre-arranged time & place (on Earth) the following day.

Patrick Wilson

A modern treasure. His impact on the animated Dan is tangible. One moment – just a single word, “No” – echoes his original performance. It hits with the same emotion and beauty.

An ironic mirror of Jon’s single-word protest, “Don’t,” from Chapter I. Do not instead of No. A command, not a lament.

Adrian Veidt

Few panels from the graphic novel depict him with any level of insecurity.

Chapter II contains his most human depiction. Maybe the most effective execution of Veidt yet. I finally understand the origin of his arctic fortress. His lynx. The squid.

Adrian’s finest moment is a final exchange with Jon.

He asks a question.

Without answering, Jon turns away and phases off planet.

That silence – that is the only moment Jon behaves virtuously.

Unintended Evil

In Chapter I, we watch Jon’s disaffection, his inertia, his refusal to act unless moved by another hand. He speaks his objections only after it’s far too late. Vietnam is just a smaller-scale version of Earth’s fate.

Jon is, in fact – unintentionally – the greatest villain in Watchmen. He is discord. Unfeeling and detached. Never acting, only reacting. In only the manner he sees fit.

The animated version brings that most clearly to the forefront. Tho it sands away a more sinister edge, his lack of empirical wisdom is laid bare.

Rorschach, by contrast, represents order. Reason and decency. Even when he quarrels with Dan, he is the first to apologize for speaking in a manner offensive to a friend.

He is the most morally committed. Dan and Rorschach represent two forms of virtue – human compassion versus brutal clarity. Theirs is the slightest of divergences. Antagonism at its pettiest.

When events become so twisted our most heroic heroes fall to superficial squabbling; it is Rorschach who rises above.

If nothing else, Watchmen Chapters I & II illuminate this arc quite clearly. While delivering a simpler, more practical edition of the narrative. For the first time, Rorschach’s quiet victory shines out from the story’s core.

★★★★★ ★★★★★

TLDR? Check IMDb or Letterboxd for briefer thoughts.

Dr. Manhattan stands under studio lights, glowing blue in a black suit from Watchmen Chapter I review (2024)

Watchmen: Chapter I

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film ReviewsLeave a comment

As artistic as comic book fiction gets.

Needless Delineation?

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. The Hobbit.
Sometimes proven IP gets split into multiple films. Not to preserve the material – but to double profits. That’s the studio’s prerogative. Our job is to judge the result.

Splitting The Deathly Hallows wasn’t immoral – both parts worked. Everybody won.
But The Hobbit trilogy? Despicable.

This dynamic doesn’t apply to the animated Watchmen duology.

The Comedian

What’s the joke, exactly?

This version explores the philosophical meanderings of Edward Blake—the Comedian. He’s central in every adaptation, but here, Chapter I sparks a desire to catalogue his contradictions.
And what’s most upsetting? The Comedian never actually tells a joke. Fans already know this – but the animated version emphasizes it. There’s no levity in Blake’s life. None.

A glimpse of warmth flickers when he chats with Laurie – only for a violent interruption to turn it grotesque. His good intentions are thrown back at him with cruel intensity.
He is both pitiful and pitiable. His virtue ambiguous. His chaos deliberate. Yet he fights for the righteous cause his whole life.

Meeting the riot with an extreme but effective form of riot suppression. There is dignity in his quickness to act in a practical manner. While others are shocked into moral obscurity, Blake dives into re-establishing order.
So – do we consider him noble? Or monstrous?

Just finished Chapter I and found myself completely engaged – ready to fire up Chapter II.

Can fans of the graphic novel or the live-action film really keep avoiding this version?
Has DC altered the narrative enough to justify a third artistic portrayal?

The answer, between films: yes.

It mostly sticks to what’s known – major beats and themes return. The Comedian’s final fight is less detailed than in other tellings. Crucial details, casually sloughed off. Yet somehow, the narrative still works.

The Black Freighter

The audience still gets a fair dose of The Black Freighter – the dread-fueled comic-within-a-comic. I actually liked it more this time. Usually, I consider it Watchmen’s weakest element.
It’s fantasy so bleak no real person would ever want to read it. The Old Man and the Sea – but with ghosts and corpses. No majestic tuna in that ocean.

Small differences stand out. The floating elephant platform, Gunga Diner – does it house a familiar character? Or is it just stylistic filler?

Veidt’s handling of the assassination attempt is also presented differently. In the comic, the sequence carries an unsettling ambiguity – an extra layer of chaos tied to positioning and reaction. The animated version streamlines the moment. The result is a cleaner, arguably more grounded portrayal. The tension remains, but it’s stripped of interpretive baggage.

Which is better? Probably the original. But can’t we just enjoy both? It’s a subtle maneuvering, yet it somehow improves the experience for fans and newcomers alike.

This version brings Blake’s existential crisis to the center. The viewer becomes hyper-aware of his internal torment. But what does it all add up to?

Dr. Manhattan

A.K.A Jon Osterman. Why won’t Jon stop Ed in Vietnam? Wrong question.
Manhattan witnesses the buildup – watches the woman confront Blake, slash his face and escalate toward tragedy. But he stays silent. He ignores every moment where deescalation remains possible. Then, finally, he mutters a weak: “Don’t.” That’s not effort.

This speaks volumes. Manhattan will wield his godhood to serve government aims, but when faced with small-scale human violence – even against someone he may call a friend – he disengages. His refusal to act isn’t apathy. It’s detachment. He no longer believes it’s his place to intervene. His words replace his will.

Jon Osterman – Dr. Manhattan – is both the most pitiful and most pitiable character in Watchmen. He could intervene. He could change everything. But he’s surrendered that part of himself. What’s left is a man who speaks without acting, who observes without judgment. A ghost in god’s clothing.

Why won’t Jon protect Ed in Vietnam? Right question.

Naturally, Chapter I ends on Mars. But then comes the weakest moment in the film – a two-minute tease of Chapter II. Entirely unnecessary. Spoils too much. Skip if you can.

Because Watchmen Chapter I is already teetering on the edge of greatness.
Here’s hoping Chapter II dares to depart even further.

★★★ ★★★ ★★★

Far briefer analyses here on IMDb and Letterboxd.

Read Justice League x RWBY for a DC animation two-parter which does NOT work.

Jessica Cruz activates Green Lantern powers alongside fellow heroine during Earth mission in Justice League x RWBY.

Justice League x RWBY: Super Heroes and Huntsmen Part Two

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film ReviewsLeave a comment

This is a direct followup to Part One.

The Answers

Will the move to Earth elevate the narrative?
Yes—though the villains remain unchanged. Two new leaders step in, but they’re just as ineffectual as the underlings they command.

Will the ladies of RWBY age up?
Yes. The Justice Leaguers regain their adult forms, and the RWBY girls mature into young adults to match. The result is a slightly more grounded dynamic, though not a substantially better story.

Will Yang emerge fully from the closet?
In the closing moments, yes. The film’s first ending is, ahem, a freeze-frame. A still image of the two groups celebrating over punch. In the background, Yang kisses Blake Belladonna.

So that’s that. Yellow and black unite in canonized courtship. All the haters can suck it.

Splendid.

Now What?

Are we supposed to watch more RWBY? No chance of that. Lesbiantics aside.

I did some research. This kiss between Blake and Yang is considered a milestone in the RWBY canon—hinted at elsewhere but depicted here with finality.

Therefore—hooray.

But when does it stop being boring? Because boredom is the only consistent tone this crossover manages to sustain. The final 22 minutes are excruciating.

And it doesn’t help that the Justice League has become bloated. We’ve got Jessica Cruz—so why do we also need tiger lady? She adds nothing but noise.

The story starts with promise. Early in Part One, Ruby and Yang meet Cal. When he timidly suggests they call him “Superman,” they laugh. His mythic stature has evaporated. It’s a surprisingly effective deconstruction.

And then it vanishes.

Whatever spark this crossover had quickly collapses into a narrative whimper.

The Villains

Not helpful. One is a recycled RWBY baddie reborn as a cyborg fop with Doc Ock arms, sputtering nonsense. Somehow, he still outshines the DC-side antagonist.

Killgore.

That’s the name.

It’s awful. “Kill” and “gore” back-to-back? That’s not a name—it’s a red flag. It’s phony, try-hard nonsense.

Killgore screeches like a neglected child. Which is irritating—but probably intended as comic relief?

Now we’ve got a swollen Justice League and the extended RWBY roster fighting two soulless entities: a malfunctioning robot and a shrill algorithm. It’s humanity versus hardware, but with no real emotional weight.

Nobody gets hurt. No one cries. And no heterosexual tension even tries to make the guest list.

In this world, women kiss women. And that is all.

Let’s break it down.

A kiss—any kiss—is a private expression. Or should be. Gender doesn’t change that. when it’s staged in a group photo, it’s no longer a moment. It’s marketing.

We’re not witnessing Blake and Yang share affection in secret. We’re being handed a glossy printout. A choreographed declaration.

There’s no shame being shattered. No cage being broken. So what’s the applause for?

Two animated girls, finally free—of what?

Of restraint, apparently. Not the stage. They’re still under lights. Still hitting their mark. Still begging for reaction.

Crossover event endings are permanent. The story’s done. So why not surprise us?

Let Bruce and Weiss hook up in the Hall of Justice coat closet.

But no. Too risky. One gay kiss is safe. Manageable. Test audience approved.

Because kissing, in this context, isn’t intimacy—it’s broadcast. It’s a press release. A still frame meant to say:

“Hey world. I want to have sex with this thing.”

Or that thing.

And that’s your finale.

★★★

In a hurry? Smaller packages of wisdom on IMDb and Letterboxd.

Almost all other DC animated films fall somewhere between great and excellent.

DC Universe Animated Original Movies – Best wiki page on net.

Yang in mid-combat during Justice League x RWBY: Super Heroes and Huntsmen, Part One (2023)

Justice League x RWBY: Super Heroes and Huntsmen Part One

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film ReviewsLeave a comment

Animated Superhero Films

DC Comics owns the leader board here. Outside the Spider-Verse films, Marvel isn’t even on the map. Wolverine vs. Hulk is still their next strongest offering. But Marvel’s animated strategy isn’t about quality. It’s about market saturation. Children’s programming. Lightweight serialization. Content for content’s sake.

With Justice League x RWBY: Super Heroes and Huntsmen, Part One (2023), DC seems to be chasing the same strategy. They focus on volume, not vision. Thus this film isn’t intended for adult consumption. It leaves only two possible audiences:
I) Young children — brains still forming, still forgiving.
II) Fans of RWBY — those fluent in its lore and rhythms.

The RWBY Realm

From the start, Superman has lost an arbitrary amount of power and memory, just enough to stagger into the plot. He and the other Leaguers wake up on Remnant, confused and suddenly teenagers. An inexplicable transformation but permanent enough to drive runtime. The most consistent pleasure is in the alternate character designs — seeing stylized re-imaginings of familiar heroes.

Romantic hints (Clark and Ruby, Bruce and Weiss) are light sketches and knowingly doomed. There’s little narrative weight to any connection. The dialogue sways between exposition and awkward flirtation.

“Hey Weiss. This is my friend, Clark. Who’s your new slam piece? I like his bat wings.”

The villains are black-ink scribbles with glowing eyes and bone features — Kingdom Hearts-style figures without stakes or voice. Beheadings cause them to disappear. They regenerate. Their tusks are sharper next time. None of it matters.

The film assumes RWBY fluency. Characters, locations, fantasy logic — all tossed in with no hand-holding. Maybe fans of the show will enjoy immediate immersion. As an outsider, it feels like homework I didn’t agree to do.

Kindergarten Approval Denied

Tonal mismatching is frequent. The most crass line in the two-part series comes out of Victor’s mouth. He’s been making fast moves at hammer girl in front of dual uzi man. Cyborg’s called out and throws a tantrum.

“I know. That sucked,” Victor says.

Take it easy, Cryborg.

It’s technically a reference to oral sex. But he’s Black so it’s aight.
(Or at least that’s how the script treats it.)

It’s also the single edgiest, most tension-filled moment in either part. Ironic, considering the worst behavior on display is… labeling one’s own behavior.

Yang, the blonde brawler with wrist cannons, comments on Diana’s impressiveness. Her friends, with zero subtlety, call her out for it. She shrugs, deflects and smirks her way through it. This isn’t a subplot. It’s one more moment of inter-dimensional teen bonding. The script tries to spin this as organic. It isn’t.

Everyone’s flirting. Everyone’s confused. And yet the film moves with total confidence — like it thinks we’re enjoying ourselves.

I can’t recommend watching Part One. But maybe you still have questions.
Will moving the conflict to Earth elevate the narrative?
Are the young ladies from RWBY aging up?
Will Yang emerge fully from the closet?

The answers and more in my review of Part Two.

★ ★

For briefer analyses check IMDb and Letterboxd.

Read Watchmen Chapter I or War of the Rohirrim for entertaining animation!