Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 (2023)
Director: James Gunn
Screenwriter: James Gunn
Starring: Chris Pratt, Zoe Saldaña, Bradley Cooper, Dave Bautista, Karen Gillan, Pom Klementieff, Vin Diesel, Sean Gunn, Chukwudi Iwuji, Will Poulter, Elizabeth Debicki, Maria Bakalova, Sylvester Stallone, Nathan Fillion, Linda Cardellini, Asim Chaudhry, Mikaela Hoover

How many trilogies really stick the landing?

In 2018, writer-director James Gunn was unceremoniously fired by Disney after some bad taste jokes from his early days as a comedian were unearthed on Twitter by right-wing trolls who objected to Gunn’s outspoken political views. Following a passionate campaign from fans and Gunn’s friends and colleagues, a year later he was brought back on board at Marvel to finish what he started. If you love this particular bunch of a-holes, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 is going to be an emotional one.

Scoundrel-turned-superhero Peter Quill (Chris Pratt) is in a dark place after making a mistake that doomed half the universe and lost him the love of his life, Gamora (Zoë Saldaña). The Guardians were restored following the defeat of Thanos, but a different Gamora – one who doesn’t even like Peter let alone love him – now stands in his paramour’s place. When an attack on the Guardian home base of Knowhere leaves one of their number mortally injured, the team set out on a quest that brings them into conflict with mad scientist the High Evolutionary (Chukwudi Iwuji) and causes Rocket Raccoon (Bradley Cooper) to confront his traumatic past.

What James Gunn has been hiding in plain sight up to now is that the Guardians of the Galaxy trilogy is really about Rocket above anyone else. This is his journey, one that takes him from a bad start in life to being a full and happy person with people in his life he can trust and rely upon.

Much like Gollum in The Lord of the Rings, if Rocket didn’t work as a VFX creation, then nothing else in this instalment (where he’s driving pretty much all the action) would either. Thankfully, the time-lapse transition between a terrified caged raccoon and Rocket’s older, cynically twitching nose that opens the film puts those doubts immediately to rest. Gunn’s empathy for all living things, but particularly those who have been mistreated, is what gives this story its power, and Bradley Cooper’s pitch-perfect vocal performance has the strength to make you feel all the feelings. Just as a raccoon crying over his lost tree friend made us shed tears in 2014, his relationship with his fellow abused creatures brings on the waterworks all over again here with some almost unbearably intense scenes in captivity. We don’t get to spend all that long with young Rocket’s animal experiment friends Lylla the otter (Linda Cardellini), Teefs the walrus (Asim Chaudhry) and Floor the rabbit (Mikaela Hoover), but we quickly grow to love them just as deeply he did.

This does have the feel of a victory lap, bringing everything full circle and giving everyone their time to shine. Everyone loves the literal-thinking lunk Drax (Dave Bautista) and towering tree-man Groot (Vin Diesel) but it is stoic cyborg Nebula (Karen Gillan) and eager-to-please empath Mantis (Pom Klementief), previously both pretty one-note, who end up being the undisputed highlights here. The former’s gruff and tough personality has gradually been eroded over her time with the Guardians, and the rare occasion when she lets down her guard and lets emotion overwhelm her really hits hard. The latter is the heart of the team, gets most of the funniest lines, and her unique power helps her and her friends out of a few tough spots in some unexpected ways.

Newcomers to this universe include Borat 2‘s Maria Bakalova as Cosmo the talking psychic cosmonaut dog who has an adorable film-long argument with space pirate Kraglin (Sean Gunn), Will Poulter as genetically engineered gold man-child Adam Warlock, and Chukwudi Iwuji as the High Evolutionary, arguably the most evil and irredeemable bastard in the galaxy who will mutilate, torture and thoughtlessly dispose of countless living things all in service of his delusional mission to create a “perfect society”.

The action is all very polished and exciting, and because this is the team’s last ride it all feels a lot more dangerous for our heroes somehow. A fight in a corridor in the final act might be the finest couple of minutes of action in the MCU to date – not only is it meticulously choreographed, ludicrously entertaining and set to a killer Beastie Boys track, but it lets the team work in violent harmony and gives every member of the team a chance to showcase their special abilities, each getting their own big character moment at the same time.

James Gunn has always happily leaned into the sillier visual and conceptual aspects of space opera, and rarely have such strange ideas been more convincingly brought to life as here. From a bio-formed space station seemingly made of meat to learning that the city of Knowhere (built inside the skull of a dead space god) can actually be driven to a new location, and even to a mirror image “Counter-Earth” populated by humanoids forcefully evolved from lower lifeforms, big swings are taken. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 is an epic, galaxy-spanning quest, but all this imagination vitally remains in service of a very intimate story. 

A minor criticism that could be levelled at this particular Guardians iteration is that the soundtrack isn’t as memorable or pitch-perfect as in the previous two films, with John Murphy’s (Sunshine, The Suicide Squad) original score extensively incorporating choral singing provoking a stronger reaction than the vast majority of the needle-drops. Similarly, the final act of the film, after over two hours of putting every Guardian through one life-threatening incident after another, keeps piling on the jeopardy to an almost absurd degree even when it is already fit to burst.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 brings this unlikely team’s journey to an immensely satisfying and appropriately epic conclusion. It is spectacular to look at and really funny, but it is also easily one of the darkest stories in the Marvel universe and does not pull its punches to make its pretty explicit discussion of abuse and animal testing any more palatable. We may see some of these characters again down the road, but for now it’s a fond farewell to them all, especially the acerbic Racoon who just wanted to be loved.

Score: 21/24

Recommended for you: MCU Marvel Cinematic Universe Movies Ranked

Bodies Bodies Bodies (2022)
Director: Halina Reijn
Screenwriter: Sarah Delappe
Starring: Amandla Stenberg, Maria Bakalova, Myha’la Herrold, Chase Sui Wonders, Rachel Sennott, Lee Pace, Pete Davidson

Featuring an ensemble cast of names that have appeared in a variety of projects – from Amandla Stenberg whose breakout role as Rue in The Hunger Games made audiences weep in their cinema seats back in 2012, to Lee Pace whose filmography has included many pop-culture delights such as Garret from Twilight: Breaking Dawn – Halina Reijn’s third directorial project Bodies Bodies Bodies has hit the big screen, making an unknown actor-director a new name amongst the comedy-horror fanbase.

Beginning with the arrival of young couple Sophie (Stenberg) and Bee (Maria Bakalova) to a large mansion hidden behind security gates, the guests making up Bodies Bodies Bodies’ cast prepare for a hurricane party hosted by Pete Davidson’s David. As the night closes in, we are introduced to the tensions in the friendship group, with a murder-themed party game becoming the deadly trigger for chaos as the storm breaks outside.

The majority of Bodies Bodies Bodies takes place in the dark as the hurricane causes a power outage, this plotline feeling akin to “the-killer-cut-the-phonelines” trope but adopted for the ultra-connected contemporary age. This increases the panic factor, with the characters’ stress spiking to new levels as they lose their connections to the outside world. The inherent scariness of not knowing what lies just beyond their line of sight is compounded as light sources appear mainly in the form of the characters’ phone torches as they run through the house, which in approach comes across as a fun nod to horror films like The Blair Witch Project which used limited lighting as a way to lean on what you can’t see as the biggest horror of them all. In its cinematography, this chaotic lighting is effective in aiding the chaos of the story while injecting a sense of realism that is found in using a less organized mode of lighting. The inclusion of tangled glow sticks draped around Rachel Sennott’s character ensures the lighting is used as a comedic tool too, which considering the comedy-horror genre is a smart move from cinematographer Jesper Wolf.

There are many shining talents in this film, the iPhone torch function being one of them, but it’s Rachel Sennott’s role as Alice that is most memorable, her quintessential Twitter voice and excellent comedic timing chimes in with stolen words from a jumble of internet discourse: “it’s ableist”, “I am an ally”, “he’s a libra-moon”. These moments mould the satire in the film, which soon feels like a twitter feed after a huge event, each character reacting and overreacting to every moment more dramatically than the next. The tip-tapping of phone keys becomes a staccato accompaniment to the shrill screams of its cast.

The casting choices have had their fair share of indie titles (notably Sennott’s appearance in Emma Seligman’s Shiva Baby), but choosing actors who have had their time in the Tumblr-teen limelight feels like a smart decision when the project itself relies on the satire of gen-z online privilege and culture. Who else would celebrate a hurricane with drugs and drunken party games, if not a group made up of wealthy university graduates? They practice TikTok trends and dance to Azealia Banks’ “212” as the storm rages, safe inside their world, or so they think. It is Sophie’s girlfriend Bee (Bakalova), the quiet eastern-European woman with little privilege or wealth who is thrust into the party nervously holding homemade zucchini bread, who represents the outlier in this film. She represents the authenticity of people the others are socially removed from, both in class and culture, and it is made obvious as the characters make their not-so-subtle references to wealth, as if the huge houses are not obvious enough. While this isn’t the most cutting deconstruction of class found in film – certainly no Ken Loach creation – it is a meaningful aspect of the story that provides connection in a privileged and socially disconnected group.

The success and charm of this story is in its cast who are trapped in a sort of Lord of the Flies-esque derailment that threatens their friendships and their lives. At the heart of their story is distrust and inauthenticity that reveals their insecurities like an open wound. The whole story becomes a metaphor for the generation itself, and their relationship to the internet. They begin to see danger where it does not exist and refuse to understand nuance where it is, which leads to the climactic (or some would say anti-climactic) end.

Satirising gen-z culture is becoming more popular of an angle in contemporary horror, with topics such as content culture and social media performance interpreting the age-old horror tropes of figures in hidden masks and the impulse to exploit. Horror has always discussed the grotesque quirks of its audiences, from films like Mary Harron’s American Psycho (2000) which portrayed the misogynist-sociopathic angles of yuppie culture, to Eugene Kotylarenko’s Spree (2020) starring Joe Keery who plays an attention-seeking uber driver who livestreams his kills.

At its core, Bodies Bodies Bodies is a film that knows its audience and the online world they live in. It plays well with its cast and their respective places on the internet, while understanding the nuances of Gen Z culture as something that can be fondly mocked. Halina Reijn has proved with this project that she is one to watch both in the horror and comedy genres, and her fun command of storytelling will leave you anxiously awaiting her next project. If you’re looking to poke fun at the kids or experience some top-notch ironic Twitter discourse, then this is a film that won’t disappoint. Although its horror elements do err on the side of caution, the comedy will leave you satisfied if the jump scares and blood-covered cast do not.

Score: 22/24

Written by Morgan Barr

You can follow Morgan Barr on Twitter – @Barr_Grylls

The Bubble (2022)
Director: Judd Apatow
Screenwriter: Judd Apatow, Pam Brady
Starring: Karen Gillan, Iris Apatow, Pedro Pascal, Leslie Mann, Fred Armisen, David Duchovny, Keegan-Michael Key, Kate McKinnon, Guz Khan, Peter Serafinowicz, Maria Bamford, Vir Das, Maria Bakalova

Judd Apatow has had a long, sturdy career in film and television comedies. His work, in films like Knocked Up and television shows like Freaks & Geeks, has often exhibited a naturalistic approach to its characters, with his masterful 2009 film Funny People even pointing his honest lens on success and aging within the entertainment industry. In his latest film, Netflix’s The Bubble, he broaches the subject of the entertainment industry again, this time focusing on a group of actors filming the sixth installment of a massive studio franchise – a series of dinosaur-themed action films called Cliff Beasts – in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic, and all the troubles that ensue within that challenging scenario. In a meta sense, though, there is an inherent issue with depicting the challenges of such a scenario when the challenges themselves are so uniquely unrelatable and unnecessary, especially in the context of a global pandemic. This is a flaw in the fabric of Apatow’s failed film industry satire that he is never quite able to overcome.

The satire in The Bubble feels deeply insecure, in the sense that it is far too obsessed with getting ahead of the audience’s perceptions of this film’s evident flaws instead of embracing a clear-eyed satirical perspective one way or the other. If the intention here is to make an Albert Brooks-style satire on Hollywood vanity — which is the most flattering read on this to have — then what Apatow fails to do is pin down whether we should be laughing at these characters or caring for them. When you can’t do that, especially when your film is centered around a pandemic that has negatively impacted the lives of millions, the best course of action is to adopt Gal Gadot’s tone-deaf “Imagine” video as a point of comparison and practice some self-awareness. As a film about shooting needless entertainment in the middle of a pandemic – which The Bubble is self-admittedly guilty of – any commentary on “mindless” blockbusters and how a “making movies is fun and isn’t that what it’s all about?” mindset is both harmful and wasteful, and is ultimately undone by this film’s own existence.

The only acute sense of self-awareness that The Bubble has to offer comes in the last scene where a few of the characters, referring to Cliff Beasts 6, say that the opening of their film is weak but maybe if the ending is strong it won’t matter as much. But not only is that another case of insecure satire trying to distance itself from its own criticisms towards soulless studio films, it is also barely true about The Bubble itself. This ending sting, in which we see the premiere of a documentary depicting the events that we saw, followed by the aforementioned conversation between characters, is reminiscent of the mid-credits scenes you’ll find in Adam McKay’s latest two films, Vice (2018) and Don’t Look Up (2021). One hopes that Apatow’s career is not heading in a similarly self-important and out-of-touch direction as McKay’s did, though The Bubble’s lazy and pointless ruminations on current events is not promising.

A major discrepancy between The Bubble and Apatow’s past work is the lack of naturalism here. Of course, the film’s meta-textually incorporates its extremely unnatural environment, so it is completely unintentional, but the issue remains even through the film’s attempts to focus on the private and personal moments of its characters, unfortunately. The Bubble also has the typical visual blandness of a Netflix original, with no differentiation between the film and the “disastrous” film within the film, which lends to its lack of naturalism. Worse yet, The Bubble is occupied with broad quips about how movie theaters may never exist again, so its embrace of Netflix’s uniform ugliness is yet another indication that this film has little respect for the art of film-making. 

Apatow has assembled a mostly promising ensemble of actors to portray the film’s cast and crew – including Karen Gillan, Pedro Pascal, Keegan Michael-Key, David Duchovny, as well as his mainstay cast/family members, wife Leslie Mann and daughter Iris Apatow – most of whom are portrayed as self-righteous, oblivious and phony. It’s difficult to explain the plot without breaking into several tangential descriptions of the film’s vignette-heavy structure, but it feels that in tandem with its thematic lack of focus, Apatow struggled to let the cast thrive together, instead relying on their existing talents and letting whatever happens happen. What’s odd, though, is that Apatow’s eye for talent is usually a source of his success. On top of essentially cementing the movie-star status of the likes of Seth Rogen, Jonah Hill, and more, his previous two directorial efforts – Trainwreck (2015) and The King of Staten Island (2020) – managed to be extremely charming, airy stories that centered on comedians who are generally controversial, if not outright disliked. Not to mention that his entire oeuvre is full of brilliantly-placed cameos and bit-parts that also function as Hollywood in-jokes (see: Lebron James in Trainwreck; Action Bronson in The King of Staten Island; the onslaught of celebrities playing themselves in Knocked Up and Funny People). All of this exhibits a unique understanding of talent that is missing in The Bubble, which still fills itself with awkward cameos and characters who show minimal understanding of current pop culture. 

Karen Gillan’s character is exemplary of the issue with The Bubble’s treatment of its characters at large. Portraying the returning star of the series, who skipped out on starring in the fifth entry only to find no success in other endeavors, she comes into this film full of insecurity and afraid that her co-stars will hate her. Being the ostensible lead, she also faces issues that encompass the intended themes and messages of the film overall, such as having a difficult time feeling connected to the film she is making as different elements are slowly removed and replaced due to budget constraints, studio interference and general on-set chaos. The returning question that lingers around her character, though, is whether the audience is meant to care for her or not. After an extremely dangerous on-set experience that left several cast and crew members injured, Gillan’s character tries to take to Iris Apatow’s character’s massive TikTok following, which Apatow doesn’t allow her to do because “no one wants to hear celebrities complain”. The problem is that this is the worst time in the film that such an argument could be brought up, because not only are unsafe working conditions in Hollywood an extremely real issue, but it’s additionally unclear whether we are meant to agree or not.

The reigning champions of The Bubble are the actors who play the non-celebrity workers on the film set, played by Samson Kayo, Maria Bakalova, Galen Hopper, and Harry Trevaldwyn. These newcomers are where you can feel Apatow’s eye for talent, and quite clearly should have been given greater focus within the film. Had the plot been centered around any one of these actors, grounding the film with folks who are being put in this unsafe position without the same benefits of fame and money, it could have erased many of the film’s uncomfortable issues, as well as injecting a fresh sense of humor into the project. The fact that Apatow literally casts his wife and daughter and yet it doesn’t feel like he can acknowledge his complicity or privilege, nor does it feel like he is interested in at least utilizing their relationship for sympathy, shows that his position as the rich director of this film is the cause for its lack of valuable perspective, which is felt all the way through its bloated 126 minute runtime.

7/24

Written by Nicholas Armstrong

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Borat Subsequent Moviefilm (2020)
Director: Jason Woliner
Screenwriters: Peter Baynham, Sacha Baron Cohen, Jena Friedman, Anthony Hines, Lee Kern, Dan Mazer, Erica Rivinoja, Dan Swimer
Starring: Sacha Baron Cohen, Maria Bakalova

Some 14 years after Sacha Baron Cohen’s Borat became a worldwide star in Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, the Glorious Nation situated south of Russia and west of China has released their famous journalist from a lifelong prison sentence to once again send him 6,500 miles across the globe to explore the USA. His mission: to sell his daughter Tutar (Maria Bakalova) to the 48th and current Vice President of the United States, Mike Pence.

Much has been made of the apparent antics of Cohen and his crew in the lightning fast putting together of Borat 2, with rumours of interrupting Republican candidates, being sued by prominent political figures and performing at Republican rallies being the most widespread. The filmmaker, lauded and equally condemned for his outrageous antics across the length of his career, has never been short of guts; but could he really have done these outrageous things?

The answer is yes. Absolutely yes. Some would even say a Glorious yes.

Borat 2 immediately addresses the Elephant in the room… Borat is now famous. Cohen is shot walking through a Texan town in full garment, passers by filmed asking him for autographs and shouting his name across sidewalks. It’s a piece of smart self-awareness that works in-universe but also in the meta sense that acknowledges how we know Cohen is now much too famous to fool people like he once did. A barrier is put in Borat’s way and our expectations of the riotous antics of his previous film are lowered significantly, allowing Cohen and his team to lean much more heavily towards the fictional narrative of Borat’s developing relationship with his 15 year old daughter Tutar, who will become vital to this film’s resonance. In this sense, Borat Subsequent Moviefilm feels almost more personal and certainly more cinematic, each likely a consequence of both Cohen’s fame and the crew wanting to separate this piece from his similarly put together TV series ‘Who Is America?’ (2018). It’s simple storytelling, and it is essentially the same narrative as the first film – the hero must go on a journey to get what he wants – but more than a foolhardy pursuit of a woman in which Borat is blocked by ignorance and flamed by celebrity culture, capitalism, patriotism and the like, Borat 2 is much more focused, attacking with pinpoint accuracy the US Republican party, whether it be its policies, the values underlying them, the politicians themselves or their followers. In as much as Borat was a shocking insight into the intrinsic prejudices of the United States and the capitalist values that divide its populous, Borat 2 is a mirror to the US and its reasons for appointing its most embarrassing leader in its history, a genuinely hilarious but at times spine-chillingly shocking docudrama. It is here where Borat Subsequent Moviefilm most excels.

Throughout this sequel, there’s a tangible sense of unease surrounding every action between Borat’s daughter Tutar and the characters/real people filling roles (willingly or unwittingly) in each of the movie’s shock-horror skits. Borat openly discusses buying a cage for his daughter to live in, a store clerk approving a $900 animal cage as appropriate for use, for example. In another scene, a plastic surgeon explains what “could be worked on” on Tutar’s face, describing how she could chip a little away from her nose and “expand her titties”. In the latter case, Cohen’s shock almost filters through his character who is disguised as another character, as he asks repeatedly “titties?”, to which the doctor continuously responds “titties”. The sexism, explained through Cohen’s intelligent comedy as being intrinsic to so much of the American way, is laid bare in all of its ugly shame in an easy to digest and explain manner that helps to make the reality of it truly undeniable. And, like any great filmmaker working on a well respected narrative piece, this then comes home to roost in a finale involving famed Republican and former Mayor of New York Rudy Giuliani, the actions of his long-promised appearance being as timely and shocking to the core as anything you’re ever likely to see.

It’s this contemporality that makes Borat Subsequent Moviefilm a must-watch. Not a must-watch in the general sense necessarily, not like the more rapidly paced and more frequently jaw-dropping original anyway, but more in the immediacy of how important everything it presents is to the here and now, to the upcoming US Presidential Election and the future of a nation with incomparable power on a global scale. Being realistic, Borat Subsequent Moviefilm is a movie made for the already converted, the people to the left of the Trump’s radical Republicanism, and as such it is unlikely to galvanise anyone from the right of Trump into switching allegiances come election day. But Cohen makes it very clear in a final dramatisation of Trump’s treatment of the ongoing pandemic, and an on-screen title card encouraging people to vote, that he’s here not necessarily to convert those he has openly mocked and undermined over the course of his film, but to encourage those who don’t vote to go and make a change.

It is sickening and sad that, in 2020, Borat and the backward fictional culture of his in-universe Kazakhstan is not too dissimilar to that of the United States, Cohen being sharp as a tack to explain how his jokes of women being encaged, enslaved and sold are not so “othering” of his character as they once were, not since the Jeffrey Epstein case or the allegations surrounding the United States’ president’s sexual abuse allegations, as well as the ever-present disrespect and undermining of women in all walks of life. It paints a horrifying picture, or more accurately represents an ugly reflection of a nation once at the centre of a progressive new world, and yet Borat Subsequent Moviefilm doesn’t fail to be funny or miss the chance to capture your heart. For all of its serious real-world commentary and truly horrifying moments of real-life prejudice and bigotry, Borat 2 is funny. Not since Charlie Chaplin have we seen a comedian produce this much relevant social filmmaking and remain so rapturously hilarious so consistently, and it is an absolute joy to see such serious situations and circumstances that often seem entirely hopeless in our contemporary space be broken down and presented through such a lens.

Cohen might not yet be described as a genius, but he’s certainly getting there.

19/24