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

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Midsommar (2019) Review
Director: Ari Aster
Screenwriter: Ari Aster
Starring: Florence Pugh, Jack Reynor, Vilhelm Blomgren, William Jackson Harper, Will Poulter

Last year, newcomer Ari Aster delivered his debut feature, Hereditary. While the piece was mostly marketed as a horror movie, Aster stated his intention was for the film to be a “family drama”. Despite this, the movie was dark, twisted, disturbing… and pretty awesome. Rather than waste time with cheap jump scares and familiar horror tropes, Aster dove deep in to the psychology of his characters and crafted masterfully unnerving scenes designed to keep us all on the edge of our seats.

A filmmaker’s second movie can be crucial to their career, especially if his or her debut film is successful; was it a fluke, or does the director have true talent? With Midsommar, Aster has scored again, topping his first film with a truly horrific nightmare drenched in sunlight.

At the opening of the film, we are introduced to Dani (Florence Pugh) and Christian (Jack Reynor), a young couple on the verge of a break-up; Dani is overbearing, and Christian isn’t willing to put forth the effort. Not helping the matter are Christian’s three friends, Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren), Josh (William Jackson Harper) and Mark (Will Poulter), who encourage Christian to end things with Dani and move on with his life. Christian doesn’t have much time to think about it; an unspeakable tragedy throws Dani into a spiraling depression, and Christian is just enough of a good guy to stick with her. Out of pity, Christian invites Dani to join him and his three aforementioned friends on a trip to Sweden for the “Midsommar” festival at Pelle’s hometown village.

The awkward dynamic between Dani and Christian’s entourage is painfully clear, and we get the sense that Dani is the one fifth wheeling the trip. Nevertheless, Dani tries to have a good time (with not much success). Early on, Aster does a beautiful job portraying a character attempting to enjoy herself while also battling mental illness. While Christian and his friends enjoy hallucinogenic drugs and the breathtaking Swedish countryside, Dani can’t escape the horrors of recent events, making what should be a relaxing vacation a personal nightmare. And Dani isn’t the only victim of this European trip.

When the crew arrives at Pelle’s “village”, they see it’s more of a large, sunny meadow littered with colorful flowers and a few wooden buildings scattered about. Various patrons of the village, dressed in traditional Swedish garments, can be seen performing dances and rituals throughout the entirety of the film. Every member of the village is soft spoken, and their voices ring kindly into the ears of their guests. Pelle explains to his friends that everyone is part of the family, and they each share a strong bond with one another. The atmosphere is a welcoming environment; everyone eats together at a long table outside, and sleeps together in a large, well kept barn. The older members of the village, referred to as “the elders”, are very receptive of Pelle’s visitors. However, as the customs become increasingly strange, Dani, Christian, and his friends find themselves increasingly uncomfortable. The rising peculiarities and unorthodox practices of the secluded Swedish convent bring tension to the group of American visitors, resulting in secrets and deceit among friends. What starts as a vacation slowly dissolves into a horror story.

Visually, Midsommar is stunning. Floral scenery pairs with sunbathed Swedish pastures for a gorgeous backdrop, contrasting the hellish themes of Aster’s nightmare. There are scenes, mostly when the characters are under the influence of drugs, where the director subtly places imperfections in his imagery to remind his audience that something isn’t quite right. In fact, there is rarely a single frame in which some element isn’t unsettling, whether it’s as indirect as an uneasy glance or as glaring as a splattered human head. Aster’s attention to detail is unparalleled, and if you notice everything, it makes his story all the more terrifying.

In a narrative sense, the first three quarters of Midsommar are near perfect storytelling. As with his visual details, Aster leaves tiny breadcrumbs with his dialogue. Small conflicts are created with the slightest of interactions (another nod to Aster’s attention to detail), leaving us salivating over how each and every struggle will turn out. Yet, for all that Aster sets up, the ending of his film leaves much to be desired. At the risk of allowing loose ends to not be resolved, the director drives the movie into a psychedelic oddity of an ending, sure enough to unsettle even the most iron clad of moviegoers. It would seem such a strange finish would be the perfect way to wrap up a movie with very similar themes, but there are a few payoffs that were avoided by completing the film on such an outlandish note. This isn’t to say Aster was unaware that his decision to end the film this way was a bit odd, but such a technique has become a little too common for my taste in recent horror movies (Hereditary also struggles with this new trope, as well as Robert Eggers’ The Witch and Alex Garland’s Annihilation).

To draw comparisons to Hereditary once again, the characters aren’t quite as strong in Midsommar. Lesser known actors Pugh and Reynor do a great job as the protagonists, but they could never stand up to Gabriel Byrne and the Oscar-snubbed performance of Toni Collette in Aster’s first film. Hereditary dives deeper into the psychology of its main characters, resulting in the avoidance of that static “she’s a goner” personality that has become so common in horror films throughout the years.

Despite a frustrating ending, there is still much to celebrate about Midsommar. Aster has established himself as a promising newcomer, weaving themes of family tragedy and the resulting consequences into his two earliest movies. Midsommar was shot almost exclusively in sunlight, and the ability to turn that type of setting into such a freakish fear-fest takes extreme talent. I eagerly await the third movie from theis hugely ambitious filmmaker.

20/24

Written by Samuel Sybert

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The latest movie from Birdman (2014) director Alejandro G. Iñárritu is making the rounds as an awards season favourite having already won 3 Golden Globes and having been nominated for 12 Academy Awards, including Best Picture. With a star-studded cast and perhaps the most successful cinematographer of this decade, Emmanuel Lubezki, working the camera, The Revenant had all of the pieces in place to create what has become a technical masterpiece and award winning production but may ultimately fail with audiences courtesy of its overly long run-time and slowly developing screenplay.

The Revenant opens with a series of Malick-esque flashbacks and cut scenes, offering a taste of the visual and narrative spectacle that is to come, before transcending into one of the most intense and co-ordinated battle sequences I can ever remember being put to film. Perched in a small area of wooded land between a ridge and the river, our protagonists (notably without DiCaprio for the time being) are bombarded with a flurry of shots from Native American archers as the camera twists and turns to fully demonstrate the carnage and horror of the moment in such a way that it is comparable to Saving Private Ryan’s ‘storm the beach’ scene. DiCaprio’s Hugh Glass then rushes into and through the scene, taking us beyond the woods and into the water, fur in hand. The savage and brutal nature of this opening sequence can best be described by a moment of action that sees a Native American attempting to drown a boy before being shot at point-blank range by a desperate member of Glass’s associates, with everything being shown in close-up with the up-most brutality. But, the intelligent thing about this scene and, indeed, the rest of the film, is that it doesn’t paint a picture of Native Americans being evil or bad, it instead paints the picture that everyone can be bad or do bad things when pushed hard enough; a theme that is ever-present in the film. In this particular sequence, the camera follows a number of Glass’s White associates but also a number of Native Americans, for example, and while the focus may clearly be on the White Americans for the majority of the picture, it is clear that this is by no means trying to capitalise on America’s historical race issues nor is it trying to arc back to the Westerns of an era long since passed where Native Americans were so often represented as ‘the other’; a figure of the American sub-conscious that was scary through its mysterious nature. Instead, Iñárritu and company push the boundaries of what is acceptable to offer a glimpse into the reaches of both the good and evil that the human spirit can go to and-or endure. In order for this to be successful, the film must present a protagonist that is both recognisable, identifiable and ultimately easy to follow and support. In Leonardo DiCaprio, they got just that.

DiCaprio’s performance as the battle-scarred and mentally wounded Hugh Glass is very good and the actor clearly took himself to all kinds of emotional extremes in order to put together such a well respected and Oscar nominated portrayal but, even in 2016 where calls for an Oscar to finally land in DiCaprio’s hands are louder than ever, the actor simply wasn’t quite as remarkable as the vast majority seem to believe. At moments in the story where his character is supposed to be so incredibly malnourished he’s on the border of death, he simply doesn’t look like he’s at that point physically. Perhaps more importantly, despite his character’s tribulations, DiCaprio still has that now typical glint in his eye that simultaneously makes him more likable but also less convincing in such a role, which is a real shame. In this instance, DiCaprio isn’t reaching the same levels I believe he did in Blood Diamond (2006) or even What’s Eating Gilbert Grape (1993), which could prove to be ironic if he finally lands the Oscar his fans have been waiting so long for him to get a hold of. Tom Hardy, in comparison, is sensational as the almost irredeemable antagonist John Fitzgerald. His manic and unforgiving attitude is beautifully supplemented by his dream to return to Texas and hike the hills of his home town, and Hardy plays the role with such great detail – such as keeping his eyes wide open with little to no blinking (a trait of psychopathy, something his character is clearly dealing with courtesy of his inhumane actions) – that he is an undeniable force within the movie from the moment he first appears. Domhnall Gleeson, too, excels in his supportive role that sees him transition from a borderline coward to an emotionally strong and brave character that is vital to the conclusion of the story, which is very pleasing to see as a follow up to his impressive performances in Ex Machina and Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

From a sound stand-point, The Revenant succeeds incredibly well in engrossing you in the action and the efforts of its characters by mixing breathing, the sound of footsteps and so on in such a way that encourages you to almost feel the action, but the score itself is not so remarkable. In fact, the score is almost a non-entity for the vast majority of the movie, which makes the somewhat ethereal score chosen less important, but its use and positioning leave a lot to be desired, especially in comparison to the heavier sounds of the action and the overall quality of the sound mixing.

The CGI, however, was sensationally put together and almost entirely seamless. The most obvious use of computer animation in this movie is a Bear attack that ultimately leaves DiCaprio’s character all but dead, and it is clearly produced with the up-most care and consideration in order to fit with the otherwise entirely natural landscape of the movie. Though it is clear, at times, that what you are watching is not really happening, these moments are brief at best and if you do take a step back to truly analyse the scene, it is evident that everything has been considered in such immense detail and that the ravaging of DiCaprio’s body is nothing less than stunning in all of its gruesomeness.

The biggest issue The Revenant has is undoubtedly its run-time that stretches an incredible 2 hours and 36 minutes. Though this is not the longest movie ever released, and even though the narrative called for such a slow building and prolonged telling of its tale (the screenplay is so tightly knit that I can’t criticise it in any way), the movie did come across like more of a task to watch than it otherwise could have done courtesy of its demand on its audience to exert themselves almost constantly throughout its intense 2 and a half hours. Even so, credit has to fall in the laps of screenwriter Mark L. Smith and director Alejandro G. Iñárritu for maintaining such a level of investment and attention for such a prolonged period of time that the movie felt more like a marathon than a sprint, as can so often be the case with movie releases in the modern age.

As was the case with Iñárritu’s offering of Birdman at the 2015 Academy Awards, The Revenant is this year’s choice for those among us who want to see film as art; and, overall, The Revenant is a visceral and almost other-worldly experience that is sure to ask questions of both a spiritual and moral standing, while remaining tense and gripping for the majority of its overly long run-time.

20/24