Vanessa Kirby as Sue Storm channels cosmic energy in Fantastic Four (2025)

The Fantastic Four: First Steps

Marvel returning to form.

Color me impressed.

The term blockbuster should carry more weight. All big-budget summer films fall under that umbrella, but it ought to mean more – like: worth seeing on the big screen. As if the filmmakers made something big-budget and inspired. Or better yet…

Worth seeing in IMAX.

Where the comic brands diverge.

Compare this to DC, which did not put its large-screen resources to good use. Fantastic Four feels designed for IMAX – whereas Superman feels digitally formatted to pass as IMAX. You can feel the difference. One justifies the format. The other hopes you won’t notice.

That’s why the unique release schedule makes sense. Fantastic Four gets a two-week IMAX run – double the usual.

The ticket costs $31.35, which is approaching outrageous. But it’s worth paying the premium for this one. Budget accordingly. Skip two or three forgettable films so you can afford this.

Some people hear my criticism about the excessive volume in modern blockbusters and immediately push back.

“I didn’t notice anything wrong with the volume,” they say.

…usually the same people who don’t mind CGI.

Volume Control

Fantastic Four is loud, but never too loud. Machinery crashes together, characters exchange blows, objects rocket through deep space – but none of it grates. The sound is sharp yet velvety.

Sensible, considering the ambition of the story.

The baby effects are outstanding. No uncanny weirdness. Just charm.

The opening scene is predictable, but the plot steadily improves – unfolding in unexpected directions.

Using the colossal screen.

The villain choice is bold. Possibly the most invulnerable character in comic history. Usually too difficult to bring to live action, but here Marvel succeeds completely. A near-impossible story element, adapted with precision and confidence.

The scenes involving this massive character overflow the screen with commanding visuals – absolutely made for IMAX.

Action sequences are balanced, grounded, and clear. The fantasy mechanics are acceptable. The fictional science doesn’t distract.

There’s consistent, understated humor that doesn’t try too hard. The drama may not surprise, but it compels.

Many of the usual Marvel trappings have been stripped away. There are too many shots of civilian life for my taste, but they contribute to a tone Marvel’s trying to build. Still – I’m not a fan of this trend. I don’t need to see my fellow viewers on screen.

Marvel’s new love for everyday nobodies – extras treated like heroes – just distracts. I came to watch heroes, not audience stand-ins. It shrinks the myth.

The Silver Surfer

Changing the gender is bold – not political, just creatively sharp. It opens new angles without preaching. Smart.

Like Ben, The Thing, SS is a completely CGI humanoid. Both rendered excellently – Silver surfs molten lava. Ben lifts a Volkswagen.

Mr. Fantastic stretches minimally – and that’s for the best. His superpower should be flexed the least on-screen.

The final bit with the car seat – three grown men fumbling like sitcom dads – feels like a studio-mandated chuckle. Pointless.

An excellent example of Disney doing what it does best. A well-packaged narrative, executed so proficiently, the content commands attention beyond the screen.

Here, Disney folds narrative into structure – making the title card and the rolling credits feel less like bookends, more like part of the plot.

In reviewing Snow White, I highlight an event that communicates back with the preceding title card. Fantastic Four transitions cleanly from the film’s end into an engaging form of rolling credits. Music pulls us forward. The screen holds us. Then – an early-credits sequence.

A thoughtful coda. Marvel gives us one last experience before sending us back to real life – an event that transitions us to the next.

It doesn’t end with a bang or a wink – it ends with control. Theatrical restraint. A blockbuster that earns its screen time.

And for once, you leave not just impressed – but grateful.

★★★ ★★★ ★★★

Compact versions here: IMDb & Letterboxd.

Gordon Bombay points assertively in The Mighty Ducks (1992) beside a framed team jersey

The Mighty Ducks

…is a film you feel like you’ve seen.

You understand the premise.

Can probably predict the story beats.

You’re a serious adult. Can’t spare the time for kidsy shmoop.

quack…quack…Quack…Quack!

The Flying V. Gordon Bombay. The slap of the stick. Glass shattering above the boards. The Knuckle Puck. Slapshots rocketing past defenders.

Goldberg, that chubby rascal.

You know these things. Memory is expansive – it’s easy to forget who inserts the disc/tape, when and why. Must such details exist to validate your memory?

That’s the kind of answer you can only give if you know for certain. A definitive familiarity—the kind of media presence that lodges deep in a kid’s sense of normal.

But let’s be honest: the Knuckle Puck doesn’t even appear until D2. If you nodded earlier, maybe your memory’s a little rose-tinted?

Revisiting is worthwhile.

Cross Checking & Slashing

Hockey has sharp edges. Mighty D doesn’t shy away from this reality. It revels in it. Our heroes are brutally checked against the boards. The Ducks later deliver their own forms of brutality.

Everybody’s dishing smack talk. Except Gordon, who responds to each volley with even measure.

There are two girl Ducks. One, larger and older, is on the original roster. The other, blonder and twirlier, is a figure skater they pickup midseason. Both girls shove their boy teammates to the ice undeservedly.

Taking Liberties

Like most great sports comedies, it bends the rules. A league championship wouldn’t hinge on a single penalty shot.

Is the makeup of a peewee hockey team often decided by county lines? Is player eligibility a legal matter?

Still, The Mighty Ducks captures the essence of hockey in a remarkably tangible way. The in-game filmmaking – especially the on-ice moments – is excellent. You can see the actors’ breath in the cold air, adding texture and tension to the visuals.

The line changes. Gloves bopping helmets. Puck movement. Player formations.

It all feels like real peewee hockey – played by real kids who want to win.

The surprising success of the film: Much is cartoonish, but the heart is authentic.

Acquiring the star player from the rival team is strong writing. Does this accurately reflect reality? Who cares? The fiction evolves and thus it’s fun.

It takes liberties with the physics of reality. Pucks vaporize through nets or dent helmets. One player is lifted off the ice and carried thru the air by the power of a slapshot.

Tiny Goons with Swagger

They have the coolest jerseys ever. Their coach even wears his own. And by the final game the stands are full of swagged up fans. The Mighty Ducks pee wee team even launched their own merchandising line which did killer business by first season’s end.

Our hero’s chauffeur, the limo driver, hangs around sporadically. Perhaps without justification – but the character adds. Sensibility be damned. Keep the limo driver. He’s Bombay’s co-worker and friend, yet not a mentor.

That title belongs to Hans – Bombay’s stand-in father figure after the loss of his real dad and childhood coach. Hans is perhaps a necessary thread for knitting the entire film together, but not one who works particularly hard on screen. His presence feels added-on – more myth than mechanism. Still, he’s second-billed in the end credits. Ahead of all the children. It’s kinda absurd.

Bombay speaks with another adult while a couple kids yank on a hockey stick “frozen” in a fake block of ice. His eye catches Fulton Reed – the still unconverted free agent – approach the struggling Ducks. Reed pulls and effortlessly removes it. “The sword from the stone.” He hands Excalibur to the kids who were trying to free it.

Precise Back & Foregrounds

Inspired filmmaking in the use of coverage footage. Cutting to the camera over Emilio’s shoulder, we see the stages of the scene’s progression. A tiny narrative occurs behind the main thread of the dialogue exchange.

There are great small touches throughout.

Not much to critique here – except the unnecessary recapping the trauma of Bombay’s youth. Footage from the opening segment of Gordon’s missed shot, his coach’s uninspiring words and even the ricochet is recycled just before the climax. We already saw him collapse to his knees in the icy spotlight – replaying it disturbs the narrative rhythm. The mind wanders, wondering why the rink has spotlights, why they’re turned on w/o the overhead floods and why Little Gordo chooses to slide into the center of one beam in this moment of devastation. All needless thoughts.

Both Bombay’s trauma and the Ducks’ climax hinge on a penalty shot. In each case, the game is tied. Thus the shot determines whether to win now or head to overtime. The film does a fine job inflating the stakes. It’s not win-or-lose. It’s win-or-keep-playing.

That subtle deception works, tho. The player who takes the shot shoulders the full weight of the team’s hopes. That lands.

A masterful ending that confidently speaks to the quality of the film. A clean knit into sequel.

This is a classic duology based on my friends’ reactions:

Apparently D2 is 10% better than perfect. (CJ loves to break The 10 Star System. He’s a ding dong.)

Quite the mathematical predicament for this reviewer. But you can’t beat that hype.

★★★★★ ★★★★★

This review too long? Read the short version on IMDb or Letterboxd.

For more 90s sports comedy read Celtic Pride. Drama? A Few Good Men.

Snow White gazes upward surrounded by glowing forest light

Snow White

There’s a lot of noise surrounding this production. Peter Dinklage voiced concerns about the lack of dwarf acting representation. Ironically, no one raised an issue when the Oscar-nominated production of Wicked also didn’t cast dwarves—despite Dinklage having a speaking role as a goat professor in that very film.

Disney intentionally takes a different direction with their version of the dwarves. These are a fantasy race—larger than life, with cartoonish features that resemble the animated classic. They’re so gentle and small that when Dopey gets trapped in the bedroom with Snow White, he’s terrified she’ll eat him alive. Achieving that dynamic with non-CGI characters would be nearly impossible. Dinklage should redirect his critique toward Wicked, not this. Because Snow White emerges as a musical worthy of a theatrical release.

Meanwhile, reports of tension between the leads, Rachel Zegler and Gal Gadot, suggest Rachel needs to keep her mouth shut. After all, she starred in one of last year’s worst films. Her career has only just begun, and she’s working alongside one of the most accomplished actresses in Hollywood. It isn’t difficult to show gratitude and respect. Rachel should focus on her job—because honestly, nobody cares what she thinks off-screen.

Fortunately, she delivers on-screen—mostly. (Respecting your castmates remains a basic tenet of the acting job.)

Rachel Zegler is about as perfect a Snow White as one could ask for. During elaborate numbers, the camera cuts back to her and she’s still singing live. Man, this girl is talented. Maybe it’s the giant mouth—both her greatest strength and greatest weakness. Performance-wise, aside from a few off-tonal line deliveries, she’s tough to critique.

In contrast, Gadot feels wooden and far from seamless. Her casting makes visual sense—Gal is (literally) the fairest of them all—but she functions more as an image than a fully inhabited character. Like the magic mirror itself, she exists as a face. Her costume conceals her body under a crystalline shell, and each step she takes sounds like a chandelier. Her hood frames her face tightly. Visually, it’s effective. But narratively, does the stepmother really need this much dialogue? Does she need her own song? Probably not.

Because they’re juggling so many elements, it’s hard to fault any one decision too severely—but Gadot’s musical number feels like a production team performing a song rather than a character expressing emotion. Zegler’s numbers, by contrast, fit naturally. She doesn’t just sing—she harmonizes with her surroundings. She whistles while she works and encourages others to join in, not out of showmanship, but because it’s how she exists. The music simply flows through her. That’s the difference.

Although many have criticized the musical sequences, I won’t. Each one is well-produced, energetic and faithful to the originals. The narrative structure follows suit.

A friend told me he didn’t appreciate the new story directions. It does get complicated—I’m undecided on that front. However, what impressed me was how much of the original tale remains intact: the evil stepmother, the poisoned apple, the prince, the well, the mirror, the seven dwarves with distinct traits. The film maintains a cinematic scope.

At times, the production edges into self-awareness—particularly when background dwarves snore, mumble or overexplain punchlines. Those “keep it moving” filler moments fall flat. Disney needs to let moments breathe instead of cramming meaning into every frame. Silence has its own power.

Even so, the old witch is genuinely terrifying. And when the dwarves gallop in on fawnback to save Snow, it’s riveting. In terms of location-based filming, Snow White outshines Wicked. The story unfolds in a grounded fantasy world with clear temporal and spatial logic. After Snow gets swallowed by a tree, the film leads us into another dimension—a sub-world that still feels real.

We see the cottage from multiple angles. Characters step outside, return, and interact with their environment. That’s how believable fantasy spaces are created: through geographic consistency.

Then comes the apple-bite scene. When Snow wakes by the riverside, it’s not just gorgeous—it’s transcendent. The setting feels like something outside narrative itself. That’s movie magic. It sweeps up an emotionally unstable viewer and pulls them into the title card—then alters that card mid-film. That requires foresight, artistry and serious orchestration.

The experience feels like tumbling down a rabbit hole and discovering a forgotten city. Inside that city, we enter a house, descend into the cellar, and find a railcar. We ride through a darkened tunnel as a storm rages above. On the other side, sunshine floods a meadow that’s neither strange nor familiar. It lies at the end of a road we never thought to take—an alien but trustworthy path that intersects with a known route home.

No surprise, then, that Marc Webb directed this. He also helmed The Amazing Spider-Man films—both criminally under-praised. Here, when Snow and the Prince’s dialogue teeters on cliché, it pivots into self-awareness. The writing becomes inventive. The direction finds rhythm. It works.

The woodland critters deserve their own praise. These aren’t generic animals—they’re integral. The fawn guiding Snow. The rabbits opening the dwarf door. The birds pulling her blanket up. Not ordinary bluebirds like you’d find on a fence line. These are puffier, rounder, finch-like birds with pastel-blue feathers. Fantasy bluebirds. A species that doesn’t exist—yet mirrors the original animated film perfectly. And they’re rendered believably, fluttering to her finger, snuggling her in. It’s a subtle but remarkable achievement.

More brilliance lies in how the animals behave. They don’t mimic humans. Instead, they act under the influence of a deeper purpose. Maybe sacred duty. It allows them to perform superanimal acts like guiding and door opening. Snow’s presence draws them toward a cause bigger than themselves. It’s multilayered, intelligent filmmaking. On the cutting edge.

Despite that, the backlash has been fierce. The film has the classic Rotten/Fresh split on Rotten Tomatoes—but a dismal 1.6/10 on IMDb? That’s not just harsh—it’s dishonest. Sure, it’s not perfect. But it’s also not even close to that rating.

With a reported $209 million budget and nearly $185 million in international earnings, Disney might eventually break even. Honestly, I hope they do. They deserve credit for trying something different. And Marc Webb deserves a hefty payday for pulling it off.

It’s flawed, ambitious & heartfelt. And we don’t abandon the ones who stretch.

★★★ ★★★ ★★★

Verbose, huh? The clipped editions at IMDb and Letterboxd.

go go tamago in pink lab coat - big hero 6 2014 review

Big Hero 6

I’ve debated this rating for a week.

The reader may find it trivial, but the temptation to give it 9 stars is strong.

As great as Big Hero 6 is, it’s not as good as Frozen, Brave or Wreck-It-Ralph.

This is a subjective distinction, however. It’s a top-notch animated flick.

The animated short preceding, Feast, is a heartwarming delight.

Which is particularly suited to the full-length BH6, this year’s best animated feature. Unless this reviewer’s unaware of another cartoon slated for release, here’s the final list.

Top Five Animated Films of 2014
1. Big Hero 6
2. The Book of Life
3. Mr. Peabody & Sherman
4. The Lego Movie
5. How to Train Your Dragon 2

I attended the movie with three friends, all in our mid-twenties. Three males and one female; illustrating thorough enjoyment across the board.

Leading to the conclusion that everyone will enjoy Disney’s latest.

Plus, the group’s in agreement on seeing it in 3D; it only adds to the experience.

The story encompasses a number of elements from science fiction, and tackles the three major themes. Every cinematic trope resonates with classic films.

Theme 1) Robotics

There weren’t any cyborgs, but everything else is heavily scrutinized. Nanobots, artificial intelligence, computerized medical systems, digitized armor, rocket propulsion, etc.

Baymax is a cuddly Terminator, an anthropomorphic medical bed from Elysium.

Theme 2) Space Travel

There’s no alien life or venturing free of the Earth’s atmosphere (so specifically no outer space travel) or even time manipulation. But interdimensional exploration and wormholes are utilized.

You folks have heard of Interstellar, right? How about Event Horizon, in which a portal between dimensions is constructed?

Anybody remember the in-between realm of Pacific Rim?

Theme 3) Superhumanity

Don’t expect any mutation or the development of superhuman abilities, but a completely grounded story of superheroes.

Big Hero 6 derives its greatest strength by constructing a superhero universe, bound by the dictates of humanity’s current understanding of reality.

There are no aliens, because we have yet to prove their existence. There are no superpowers, because no evidence suggests humans have a biological capability for their development.

One scene pays homage to The Hulk and the protagonist’s name, Hiro, seems like a tip-of-the-cap to the TV series Heroes.

In honor of cinematic themes in 2014, the film even features a time-lapse of Hiro innovating in a manner akin to Tony Stark. A digitally animated time-lapse is thought-provoking, at the very least.

People use the word ‘Disnified’ as if it’s a bad thing. The connotation is that something has been purified of all negative emotion, thereby creating an unrealistic product.

The irony in this is laughable.

Disney constructs a highly educated story while exemplifying a preference towards optimism.

Which equates to one of two criticisms.

The action is a little light.

The budget for this movie is $165M, so I was hoping for more elaborate fight sequences.

A final criticism is odd.

In my review of last year’s Frozen, I mention the helpfulness of a non-specific trailer.

The teaser featured dialogue-less frozen pond antics between Olaf (the snowman) and a moose (who never shows up in the actual movie). Therefore the viewer learns nothing specific regarding plot details.

Big Hero 6’s trailer spoils several beats and somehow I failed to avoid another important detail in the first sentence of somebody’s review.

Therefore, let’s chalk up the slightly underwhelmed feeling to the unripe ideas.

After all, the humor is solid and consistent. The characters are likable and original.

Especially T.J. Miller as Fred, the comic book enthusiast.

Unlike all characters from other superhero team-ups, Fred embraces their engagement with the lifestyle choice. Therefore, he’s a satirical narrator who highlights all of the important moments during Big Hero 6’s origin story.

It’s impossible to dislike Aunt Cass, voiced by Maya Rudolph.

A sequel is sure to follow. Personally I can’t wait for Big Hero 7, or better yet, Small Villain 5.

Imagine that. A supervillain team-up prequel might be the best way to go.

Although I wouldn’t mind the introduction of a ‘Green Ranger’ trope. Wink.

Overall, Big Hero 6 is really great.

It distills the complexities of helping a loved one after a tragic loss. It takes a grounded look at the far future, and illustrates the true potential for superheroism.

Expect minor weeping, especially if you’re a softy like me.

Stick around for a number of intriguing bits during the rolling credits. Comic fans, particularly, don’t miss the stinger that follows.

Once again, thanks to Disney, I can add a pleasant memory to the list.

★★★★★ ★★★★★

Brisker review at IMDb and Letterboxd.

Check out Snow White for more Disney. Or Surf’s Up for more animation.

Elsa conjures ice - frozen review

Frozen

Here the animated film, Frozen in review:

A Frozen review

Ah. The fjords.

Frozen is #8 on my top films of 2013 list. Besides World War Z, it’s the only film I’ve seen twice in full from the past year.

The mission? Keep the Frozen review beneath 1000 words. So I’ll be brief and swift.

Speaking of, the animated short shown previous to the ice-harvest open, Get a Horse is a brilliant piece of animation. I love seeing something completely original, smart and thought provoking. It lost the academy award, but can’t comment because I haven’t seen the winner, Mr. Hublot, yet.

The trailer; saw it way, way ahead of time when it was first released. Wasn’t all that pumped for the movie because the short’s devoid of narrative content. The reindeer and the snowman fight over the carrot nose on a frozen pond, and antics ensue. It wasn’t boring, but not overwhelmingly great either.

I liked the no-spoiler trailer.

So I think the lesson to take away, yet again, is know as little as possible about the plot previous to seeing the film.

Why’s director and writer Jennifer Lee’s name got the ‘(XXX)’ after it? Was that ‘pre Vin Diesel,’ or ‘post Ice Cube?’

Is she the thirtieth? Is that even possible? She can’t be an ex porn-star, can she? I didn’t know women had suffixes, let alone such a gigantic one. And I’ve never heard of a man being anything above a VII.

Frozen review

Based on the story “The Snow Queen” by Hans Christian Andersen, Frozen’s the newest addition to a list of Classic Disney Animated Features spanning back to the debut of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs in 1937.

It’s no secret I’m a huge fan of Disney animation, but you’ll hear me groaning the loudest if I see that trailer for Planes 2 ever again. The Planes franchise is an inconsistency in life I’ll never get a grasp on. I highly admire the Walt Disney Company but have no respect for their misleading me into the clutches of Planes. It’s a horrendous movie, and has been falsely marketed as an outgrowth of the Cars universe.

There’s this weird market for horrifically bad animated stories. I think it’s intended for kids in kindergarten and below. Because Planes is such a considerable downgrade in narrative and animation from Frozen I’m surprised they’re still peddling this boring crop-dusting crew.

I was purposefully duped into spending six dollars on the rental. I understand their desire for the alternative source of income, but this misleading marketing campaign is deceitful.

But we’re talking about chilly Frozen, with icy Elsa and Anna, the coolest narrative since Tangled.

And now we’re sidetracking to the classics of recent years.

2012 saw the release of two five-star Disney Animated Features: Brave (produced under the Pixar name) and Wreck-It Ralph. Two other movies deserving of a near perfect score were released in 2010: Toy Story 3 (which was darn close to five stars) and Tangled (which exceeds five stars.)

2011 wasn’t the best.

But my point is Disney’s on a hot streak. Hopefully they keep up the same quality for decades to come.

Okay, I promise, the rest remains focused.

Again, the Frozen review

It’s fantastic. That’s all you need for now.

If you haven’t seen it, do so. The less you know the better so beware the spoilers below.

Do you know who’s great?

Kristen Bell.

I just love that little starry eyed delight.

Her breakout performance is hilariously understated in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, she plays a funny cameo in the old Starz comedy series Party Down starring Adam Scott, and the compelling role she played in the western HBO series Deadwood goes tragically unmentioned. I’ve been eying that Veronica Mars movie for days.

I really enjoyed Anna, the character Kristen does the voice for. Let’s hope K-Bell stays prolific.

Idina Menzel does the voice of Elsa, and I must admit I’m more partial towards her character than her little sibling. This cold dame wears a gown made of ice. The fabric billows like it’s malleable. I’m not positive one could weave ice fibers into a fabric, even with sorcery at immediate disposal.

She must be a master on that ice-loom. I’m not trying to be snarky, the physics of Elsa’s magic didn’t concern me in the slightest during the movie. The ice gown exemplifies the beauty of animated films. A wonderful sort of idea is created that can’t be captured in any other medium. If Frozen were live-action, we’d be much less inclined to buy the idea of a flexible sheet of solid ice.

Now, on to nuance. One of the best tricks in the Disney feature handbook, is the inhuman sidekick. For Wall-E it’s the cockroach, Rapunzel’s is a chameleon named Pascal, Pinocchio’s got Jiminy Cricket, and so on.

My girl, Jen Lee the Thirtieth, who also wrote Wreck-It-Ralph, spins a similar sidekick song with Olaf the snowman. The alternative groove is he’s a sentient snow golem summoned through Elsa’s sorcery.

Olaf’s voiced by the promising young talent, Josh Gad. You know him as one of the original costars of The Book of Mormon. He’s also the funniest part of NBC’s 1600 Penn, an underrated comedy and solid show.

I bet we’ll see him popping up in all sorts of comedic antics from now on.

I remember hearing on a podcast that J. Lee Turkey (that’s a bowling reference, running out of Triple X jokes here)  aims to invert classic Disney motifs. So, for example, the ‘princess’ element to the story is a small and almost insignificant point in Wreck-It-Reezy.

With Frozen, Jennifer Strikeout takes these inversions several steps further, and it’s an enormous benefit to the plot. The original conflict and its innovative resolution revolves around a pair of sisters, which isn’t something we’ve seen before, and just a ton of fun along the way.

Soon after the movie’s open, there’s a heart wrenching scene with Anna singing about building a snowman, as she grows older through the years without her sister.

Fiddlesticks; that scene just rips me to pieces.

That poor little girl just wants to play in the snow with her sister…

So my basic point is, there’s some crying that occurs near the beginning of the film. I can’t remember another Disney movie like that, except The Fox and the Hound perhaps. Hunchback of Notre Dame’s another; I can’t stand to see Quasimodo pelted with that rotten produce.

And there’s some crying towards the end of the film. It’s a moving little cartoon, friends, and I think you’ll love it as much as me.

But anyway, it’s tough to keep these things under 1000 words, let me tell you. Barely missed it by 135.

Quickest wrap-up ever –

Completely original storytelling, moving conflicts, lovable characters, beautiful animation, educational, compelling, fun, melodic and heartwarming.

Disney as per the usual.

Good on ya Jenny Three Kiss, since you’re for sure reading this Frozen review.

Keep up the good work!

★★★★★ ★★★★★

Briefer takes at IMDb & Letterboxd.

Big Hero 6 for more Disney animation. For live action read Snow White.