His performance as Morpheus is what Laurence Fishburne will be eternally remembered for but, in all his other years as an actor, Fishburne has tended to play interesting and thought-provoking characters. Fans of the Francis Ford Coppola war film Apocalypse Now (1979) will surely remember a fresh-faced Fishburne appearing as the cocky but charming Tyrone Miller aka Mr. Clean. Determined at a young age to break into the film industry, a then 14-year-old Fishburne lied about his age to get the part in the legendary project – how different his life could have been if this mischievous decision blew up in the young man’s face.

Francis Ford Coppola’s film should have been the catalyst for a rapid rise to stardom, and yet Fishburne’s career trajectory wasn’t as comfortable as one might think. The early part of the 1980s led the actor down a path of minor television and stage appearances, while working as a bouncer in the New York club scene. Such a resolute figure wasn’t deterred though, and it was Coppola once again that gave the actor another break with a supporting role in The Cotton Club (1984), before he popped up in Steven Spielberg’s critically acclaimed film The Color Purple (1985). The 80s were an important part of Fishburne’s apprenticeship, opening the door to the most successful and important decade of his career: the 1990s.

The 90s is the decade that will forever define Laurence Fishburne as a screen presence, and it is in these 10 years that his three career-defining performances are found. What began with King of New York in 1990, ended with his role as Morpheus in The Matrix in 1999. The decade turned him into a bona fide star, one with incredible talent and diversity, and led to formidable success in the new millennium in franchises such as John Wick and ‘Hannibal’. We at The Film Magazine are here for something in particular though, so let’s delve into the three performances that have cultivated an impressive and often underappreciated career.

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1. Boyz n the Hood (1991)

1991 was the year that Larry Fishburne (the name he went by up until 1993) got his first major iconic role in the late John Singleton’s legendary Boyz n the Hood. The film’s undeniable legacy was cemented from the beginning, and it hasn’t waned since.

The film depicts life on the mean streets of South Central Los Angeles through the eyes of the young Jason “Tre” Styles 111 (Cuba Gooding Jr.), and his friends Ricky Baker (Morris Chestnut) and Darrin “Doughboy” Baker (Ice Cube), the latter now being a fully-fledged member of the Crips gang after his release from prison. The film’s grittiness and authentic representation of such violent streets is what propelled it into the public eye, but it was the teachings and the wisdom of Fishburne’s character, Jason “Furious” Styles Jr., that made the biggest impact.

Fishburne is tremendous in this authoritative role as the former soldier and current community activist fighting for what he believes and guiding his impressionable son into the light. His various speeches throughout the film – whether a discreet talk with his son or his preaching on the side of the road – are some of Boyz n the Hood’s most intelligent and powerful moments. Boyz n the Hood is etched into black history; furious is the man who knows all too well about the racism and discrimination that his people have faced and continue to experience. And yet, instead of violence, this monk-like figure relies on education, inspiration, and enlightenment to help his brothers and sisters in the fight against the system and the people that enforce it.

The South Central streets are ruthless. They will chew you up and spit you out. Fishburne’s Furious knows this, and his parental instincts go into overdrive when Trey moves in with him. The connection that the two characters develop is meaningful; Trey not only has a caring father figure in his life to keep him on the straight and narrow, but he has an actual father, something that the other boys in the area do not. Fishburne’s interpretation of the character is majestic; his mannerisms, his use of intelligent thought and reasoning, is what separates the character from the rest, and it is this that makes him truly memorable.

A lack of award nominations can’t even derail the impact that Furious Styles had on the future of black cinema, and we’ve seen multiple amalgamations of this character in cinema ever since – you could say that Morpheus is just another design of the same character, teaching the same ideologies for a better and more fruitful future. Fishburne really knocked it out of the park in Boyz n the Hood, and his success in the role is what allowed him to step it up a notch for his next gigantic performance in 1993.

2. What’s Love Got to Do with It (1993)

Brian Gibson’s What’s Love Got to Do with It is a film that needs little introduction. This interpretation of the life and career of the legendary Tina Tuner and her abusive relationship with Ike Tuner is one of the greatest biopics of all time – it never shies away from the violence of their relationship and is as brutal as it is magnificent. Ike and Turner: the band, the relationship, the… romance? Their venomous relationship shrouded an incredibly successful musical partnership that had the pair headlining arenas with the likes of The Rolling Stones and Otis Redding before it all fell apart because of Ike’s self-destructive ego and his cowardly violent streak.

The film’s success couldn’t have been what it was without two monumental performances leading the way, and that’s exactly what it had. Reunited so soon after both appeared in Boyz n the Hood (Bassett portrayed the ex-wife of Fishburne’s character in the 1991 film), Angela Bassett portrays Tina and Laurence Fishburne plays Ike; an incredibly formidable on-screen partnership that led to the pair receiving nominations at that year’s Oscars. What’s Love Got to Do with It begins very softly by exploring the origins of Tina Turner, real name Anna Mae Bullock. The future star’s love of music, her incredible singing voice, and how she fell in love with her soon-to-be husband and eventual nemesis. Even though it’s Tina’s singing voice you hear in the film, Bassett’s perfect lip syncing and expertly performed mannerisms through months of endless mimicking make you think that it truly is her, but it is Fishburne’s performance that ends up being the most iconic.

Laurence Fishburne’s iteration of Ike is the devil incarnate. It is the complete opposite representation of a man than his performance as Furious Styles – to swing so far right with this character is a testament to Fishburne’s diverse acting palette. The film was known as not being absolute gospel, but the material given by Tina herself (from her autobiography “I Tina”), which was then merged with Kate Lanier’s exquisite screenplay, allowed Fishburne to create his version of the man that very much existed in one form or another. The manipulation that began with niceties but was really a form of grooming is truly shocking and vicious, and Fishburne nails this.

It says a lot about Laurence Fishburne’s performance that the man himself, the real-life Ike Turner, praised Fishburne for the role in his own autobiography “Takin’ Back My Name”, even if he did claim the film ruined his reputation – it seems as if you did an awful lot of that yourself, Mr. Turner. Some of the scenes were said to be so tough to film, mentally and physically, that it becomes slightly poignant when you understand that Fishburne was incredibly attentive towards Bassett during these scenes, always wanting her to feel comfortable and at ease. Not only is the man a terrific actor but he’s a genuinely nice guy it seems as well, which only adds to the magnitude of this performance.

Two iconic roles in two years though, it doesn’t get much better than that, does it? If only he knew where these two performances would eventually lead him – to a dystopian future with monstrous acclaim.

3. The Matrix (1999)

For an actor to end the most critically acclaimed decade of their career, as well as wrap up the millennium, with a film like The Matrix is almost unheard of. It could have been very different though, if Will Smith accepted the role of Neo and Sean Connery (yes, you read that right) didn’t choose Entrapment instead – although, let your mind wander for a bit and just imagine that possibility. It was everyone else’s gain though because, looking back, Laurence Fishburne and Keanu Reeves were perfectly cast in The Wachowski’s science fiction epic. With a script and premise that hardly any of the cast and crew understood (apart from Fishburne of course… or at least so he claims), and with the schedule packed with fighting choreography, wire-training, special effects, and managing injuries, it was doomed to fail. Thankfully, it did not.

After Thomas Anderson, “Neo”, begins to accept that things aren’t all as they seem to be in his world of computer hacking, a mysterious woman called Trinity (Carrie-Anne Moss) explains that a man named Morpheus (Fishburne) has all the answers Neo needs. The wheels of thought in Neo’s brain begin to move, and it’s not long before he meets the mysterious Morpheus who preaches his now infamous red pill, blue pill speech to him, thus beginning a journey of awakening. Morpheus is captain of a ship in the real world, but also acts as the preacher and mentor to the others in his search for “The One”, something he thinks he has found in Neo.

Morpheus is like an amalgamation of several of Laurence Fishburne’s previous characters; the deep-thinking attitude of Furious, the often over confidence of Ike Turner, and the caring nature of Fishburne himself. His portrayal of Morpheus is one of the most recognizable performances in modern cinema; whether it’s the tiny black sunglasses or the long leather coat, Morpheus is as big and important to the franchise as Neo is.

His character has the best dialogue in the series too. Quotes such as “Have you ever had a dream, Neo, that you were so sure was real?”, and “Don’t think you are. Know you are,” as he proceeds to beat Neo black and blue in the now famous dojo scene, are particular standouts. Morpheus is Yoda, he is Gandalf; an all-powerful figure that always has the good of the world in his mind.

Fishburne couldn’t have played the role any better than he did. Without him, The Matrix was a guaranteed bust – that might be brutally honest, but everyone knows it to be true. Say what you like about the sequels – they do run hot and cold – but Morpheus is one of the shining lights in both. The dynamic that Reeves and Fishburne have is undeniable; they are magnetic and propel each other to new heights in each scene they share – an even greater chemistry than the one Fishburne had with Bassett.

It feels almost poetic that Laurence Fishburne would end the decade with a character of such note. After struggling for years for a role of any significance, for him to then enter the 2000s as this iconic figure is a dream so real it becomes truth. Where do you go from success like this though? It’s a task of immense pressure to keep up with appearances, for most people that is, but one that Laurence Fishburne grabbed with both hands and drove forward.

Recommended for you: Where to Start with Keanu Reeves

In the years since The Matrix, Fishburne has found considerable success. Along with his role as Jack Crawford opposite Mads Mikkelsen and his reunion with Reeves in John Wick, Fishburne has also appeared in both the Marvel Cinematic Universe and DC Universe. Whatever future success Fishburne achieves, it will be because of that special decade of the 90s that changed his life forever, and as fans of cinema and the man himself, we wouldn’t want it any other way.

Written by John McDonald

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John Wick: Chapter 4 (2023)
Director: Chad Stahelski
Screenwriters: Shay Hatten, Michael Finch
Starring: Keanu Reeves, Laurence Fishburne, Donnie Yen, Bill Skarsgård, Ian McShane, Lance Reddick, Hiroyuki Sanada, Rina Sawayama, Shamier Anderson, Marko Zaror, Scott Adkins

A long winding path to redemption, freedom, and peace. A path filled with trials, tribulations, painful choices, and about 80% of your time spent in fight scenes. John Wick: Chapter 4, much like its titular character, seems to run on sheer will, with Wick tracking down all of the elders of the Table and killing them, thinking that only then will his obligations be fulfilled and he will be able to live a life of peace. Of course, it’s not that easy, and every assassin and goon in the world (the ones that weren’t killed by Wick in the past three films, which makes you wonder how many there are) crawls out of the woodwork to come after him, all under the rule of a dangerous new enemy.

If you want entertainment, this film has it. Coming up on three hours long, with several fight scenes lasting at least 10 minutes, this is the ultimate one-versus-many action movie. Beautifully choreographed, soaked in that iconic John Wick neon even when they’re not having the now-obligatory shootout in a nightclub that the first film essentially kick-started, and with martial arts extravaganzas that one can actually physically see people doing, it’s popcorn munching at its finest. It sticks to its simplistic guns, not bothering with complicated plot twists or character revelations; simply putting out the bare bones of what’s needed and letting the mind do the rest. In terms of craft, that’s always where the John Wick franchise has shone; by keeping it simple, stripped down, and efficient.

Everyone acts at full pelt, but considering the caliber of performers, that is to be expected. Perhaps the scene stealer award goes to Hiroyuki Sanada, an actor who is thankfully in the west gaining more recognition as time goes on, and recognition that he deserves. Donnie Yen manages to show he’s more than just a flurry of feet and fists (and has a very small reunion with Scott Adkins, both of whom were in Ip Man 4). Incredibly, Keanu Reeves, in the silent, machine-like killer mode, somehow comes off as one of the lesser performers. They try to bring back memories of his wife, but by this point we’ve so long forgotten all of what started the franchise off that it feels like they needed to make him not just a mindless killing machine. Which, in many respects, he is. And the film is worse off for it.

Yes, Wick is the Babayaga, the man you send to kill the bogeyman, but even Michael Myers, the bogeyman himself, needs supernatural powers to survive the beatings that Wick does. The sheer absurdity of how much he survives suddenly detracts from that initial motivation, that initial character that Wick was made of. He doesn’t seem to be the character we first knew, now surviving every five hundred car hits and several storey drops to go on and punch and shoot his way out of the next gauntlet of goons because, well, the plot demands him to, and we’ve still got another hour of runtime. The video-game level of simplicity and unbelievability that this film resorts to (including a very nice but ridiculous top-down one-shot on a floor of an abandoned house, Wick dispatching everyone with choreographed ease) takes away from some of the actual grit. Wick persevered through films an hour shorter than this, against fewer enemies, but with actual effort that you felt in your core. It was tough. Despite having more bad guys to shoot, it seems the quality of henchmen has declined since the first chapters.

Let nothing take away from John Wick: Chapter 4 being a great time on the big screen. It still feels completely John Wick. It’s still better than 90% of action movies being pumped out today. It is still a success for cinematic extravagance, and hopefully the box office. But there is a point where it crosses into self-indulgence. Cut half an hour off and Chapter 4 would be so much better.

Score: 18/24

I was, however, caught off guard by just how good this movie actually is. Even beyond the violent realism.

Parabellum is an expressionist work, using colors in the lights and background objects to represent the flow of action and emotion. The film opens with John running through New York after killing the previous film’s antagonist inside of the Continental, the assassin hotel where killing is banned (he has become “excommunicado” from the assassin organization for breaking the rule). The edit is fast paced to match the clock ticking down to John’s excommunication, and he escapes to a library where he has stored items that will come in handy later. 

During the opening sequence, John is bathed in blue light, and this blue light is consistently contrasted with red and yellow lights throughout the film. Within the film’s context, blue represents the ever-present “High Table”, an ill-defined organization of assassins comprised of bureaucratic hipsters, assassins, adjudicators, and higher bosses like Ian McShane’s Winston, Jerome Flynn’s Berrada and an Elder that may or may not be in charge of the whole thing. Members of the High Table are shown in blue outfits, or sport a blue article of clothing like the Elder’s light blue turban (others are shown in darker shades of blue, showing a distinction from the other members and the lighting’s shade).

As John escapes to the library, red is prominently contrasted with that blue light, bringing me to the conclusion that red represents John Wick, his interests and those willing to work with him – he is a human Angel of Death, bringing bloodshed everywhere he goes.

During fight scenes, John’s victory is foreshadowed through red objects in the background. In one sequence John fights in close combat using knives, and the background is lined with red cabinets. As he fights and kills, the action transitions away from red and John gets into trouble. This trouble ends when John and his opponents end up in front of a new set of red cabinets, a sign of the blood about to be spilled. Red fabrics placed in the background function in a similar way to the cabinets in other scenes. The red throughout the early film also shows John’s status as “excommunicado” from the Continental, based on contrast with green lighting later in the film when John and the Continental work together to fight against the table.

John spends a lot of time in red and dark blue lights at the start of the film, and as his clock ticks down, we see Winston in the Continental under yellow lights. This yellow light is caution, a warning of danger for John. The yellow in that initial scene is repeated in the library, where John fights a character played by NBA player Boban Marjanovic, a huge guy by basketball standards at 7’3” (2.2 meters); an expressionist symbol for John Wick as an underdog.

Another example of yellow representing danger for John occurs without him on the screen…

When the Adjudicator visits the assassin Zero, an admirer of John’s work, his restaurant is covered in red light. As the scene goes on, the Adjudicator recruits Zero to kill John, and the lighting shifts to yellow. Zero and his students are shown to be formidable opponents for John, more so than other assassins that come after him. Every instance of yellow lighting that doesn’t contain an ally of John’s (such as the Director who wears a red sweater) leads to a dangerous situation.

There are also mythical allusions that make this story so fascinating.

John is akin to Greek heroes; a killer of great renown. He is told to travel to the desert and follow Orion’s dog (the star Sirius, I think. The film doesn’t specify) and, when he reaches the point of death, the Elder will find him. John finds that following the dog reveals his way out; becoming a tool, a dog, tasked to do the High Table’s bidding. At the end John realizes he’s not Orion’s dog, he is Orion… a hunter. The encounter with the Elder is an allusion to Jesus’ desert wanderings, where he finds Satan at the end for a final test. The Elder offers John a chance at life in exchange for a sacrifice – the sacrifice is his wedding finger and henceforth his ring; his physical reminder of the memory of his wife. That memory is the entire reason he wants to live, and it’s akin to selling his soul to the Devil.

John Wick’s memory, his blood, anger and rule breaking, all point to a humanist take on myth. John is substitute for Greek demigod heroes, the High Table a human pantheon, and Laurence Fishburne’s Bowery King and his vagrant minions (the “bottom tier” of modern human society) serve as substitutes for Hell in this world of assassins. The Bowery King, who claims to be the source of the High Table’s power (kind of like the Greek Titans), is given seven cuts and sent “below the Table,” and we last meet him underground on a throne near raging fires that are both an allusion to Hell/Tartarus and an expressionist symbol of the rage he and John feel. From the beginning of the film, John fought long and hard to go from hunted to hunter, and at the end he is no better than where he started. He has pushed his rock like Sisyphus as punishment for his violation of rules and the Continental’s hospitality, and now he’s going to prepare for war.

These are some of the great things about Parabellum, but a closer reading of the picture leaves me with thoughts and questions about the film’s meaning.

My first specific question surrounds rules and fate’s ineligibility. We are told and shown throughout the film that breaking rules has consequences – this starts with the hunt for John when he is “excommunicado”. continues when he visits a doctor to stitch him up five minutes before the countdown ends, and then the Adjudicator mentions it over and over again (just in case we weren’t quite sure). On the one hand, death is the punishment for rule breaking (as we see through the bounty on John), but injury/maiming is also used as punishment, and so is “Deconsecration” of Table-sanctioned buildings like the Continental.

Despite all of this establishment, and inconsistent (but present) punishment, we also see characters evade consequences.

Sofia, another assassin who helps John (she has red pillows, displaying a “soft spot” for John), lives with no consequence. Winston’s show of strength against the Table is rewarded with reconsecration. These signs of mercy don’t even contrast with John, who also leaves assassins alive when he feels like it because of a sort of mutual respect.

The narrative’s discussion of rules and emphasis on consequences leaves an obvious question: is breaking rules okay, or not?

The High Table, the unquestionable antagonist and keeper of rules, fails in the end because John Wick lives. Fate and rules can clearly be violated through sheer force of will, but the film itself fails to embody this message within its form and visual language. John Wick Chapter 3 — Parabellum is a product of properly following cinematic rules, a testament to the virtue of conformity. The use of primary colors is very traditional, specifically the use of red and yellow – I was hoping the colors might grow more complex beyond green (a “green light” to kill in the Continental, and a combination of blue and yellow to demonstrate the fear of the Table’s agents that are about to meet their doom), maybe like the palette of the official poster which contains pink, purple, yellow and orange. These colors aren’t all primary colors, and they mix and blend across the poster, portraying a sense moral complexity.

Moral complexity is notably missing in the film; Winston isn’t morally complex as he’s obviously on John’s side even through apparent betrayals, John is a force of “good” to the extent that his individualism and humanity oppose the High Table’s collective nature, and even Zero is a duty-bound assassin that sticks to the film’s “honorable” code. There are obvious signals of “good” and “bad” even if they don’t dictate the role a character plays in relation to John Wick.

The writing and editing also play into film tropes, attempting to subvert them with failed moments of humor under the guise of contemporary self-awareness.

Though John frequently runs the risk of severe injury, this isn’t Fast and Furious. It’s not like John skydives in a tank or takes damage with absolutely zero consequence (he does have to get sewn up and needs a few moments to catch his breath), it’s a film that typically takes itself seriously and succeeds when it’s doing that. Humorous moments like Zero having a conversation with John before he dies seem to undermine the serious moments more than they relieve any tension.

Unique scenes that make us go, “Woah, I can’t believe he just did that,” better serve the role humor usually plays in an action film.

One example is Parabellum’s pool scene, watching John shoot and avoid shots underwater is freakin’ nuts. Another good one is escaping through an antique store and ending up on a horse; the situation is odd, but it’s serious and intense, and the tensions between those two things create its own kind of humor. One-liners, alternatively, only serve to signal a cinematic convention within the action genre.

I’m also not too fond of moments when the camera leaves John to show a group of assassins about to follow him. They happen way too often, the exact same way almost every time. A movie with this level of realism should have a multiplicity of organic ways to introduce “someone is following John Wick”. There are also the convenient moments where John has his weapon ready just in time, which is jarring when mixed in with the “chaos and randomness” of the rest of the choreography.

John Wick’s positioning as the protagonist leaves me wondering about the morality of mass killing. 167 people die in this film as a result of John and his allies. When does self-defense cross into the territory of mass murder? At what point do we as an audience ask why John should be allowed to live? When do we begin rooting for people like the Adjudicator or Zero to take him out because it’s an absurd idea to believe there is no moral grey area in everything John has done? Maybe we are supposed to believe it, but the film continues to implicitly endorse him by allowing him to triumph through survival. He’s clearly a threat to the stability of the High Table, and are we to believe the High Table is never noble in its pursuits? Is John even able to be on a moral high ground above them? The absence of a conversation about the entire moral landscape of this film is replaced with the question of “what’s right for John Wick?” Others be damned.

I’m fascinated to see where the franchise goes from here. The fourth chapter already has a release date of 21 May, 2021. I’m not sure how they can raise the stakes further without explicitly making John and the Elder supernatural entities. At this point, it’s less metaphorical and more the implicit reality, but this film is truly a work of cinema to behold. The sound design and performances, as well as the world the team built, are incredible.

Parabellum is a great start to the summer movie season, and I couldn’t be happier to see a franchise succeeding at the box office!

Black and Blue. God versus man. Day versus night. 

The first true crossover in DC’s Cinematic Universe has arrived in the shape and form of Zack Snyder’s Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice which features an all-star cast that includes Ben Affleck and Henry Cavill in the titular roles. With Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy leaving such an indelible mark on the superhero genre, and particularly the Batman character, the anxieties of many a superhero movie/comic book fan were at an all time high. But, courtesy of some excellent performances and a change in approach that has removed the film from the others that have come before it in terms of its visual style and themes, Batman v Superman was a superhero event movie to remember that managed to successfully showcase its actors’ talents, pay a great deal of fan service and ultimately surpass its predecessor Man of Steel (2013).

Director Zack Snyder is perhaps best known for his work on graphic novel adaptations 300 and Watchmen, as well as the debut of Henry Cavill’s Superman in Man of Steel. With each passing film, Snyder has undoubtedly left his imprint on the movies with an eye-catching ‘style over substance’ type of approach that, despite its faithfulness to the original material, has left many a fan and critic calling for more exploration of key themes and issues. In Batman v Superman, Snyder’s style was, again, very much apparent, though the key themes and the presentations of such themes were definitely more intricate and well handled than in much of this director’s previous work.

One of the biggest criticisms made towards the film by other critics and those using social media is in how it dealt with Batman; particularly how he is supposed to be a hero intent on not killing anyone. As was the case with Man of Steel, Dawn of Justice was very much a destructive film despite its best intentions to explain how ‘the buildings are largely empty’ on many an occasion. Batman was a contributor to this destruction with one particular chase scene providing an action set piece that flipped cars, dragged upturned cars, and was ultimately ended by a gas explosion. Similarly, a gun fight was won by the caped crusader via many a circumstantial explosion, which certainly wasn’t in-keeping with the Dark Knight’s lore. But this was exactly the point! Batman is the product of his world, and when that world is invaded by a species as powerful as the Superman, and the threat of ultimate destruction so high, the Dark Knight has to evolve in order to protect, and in this case he is a little more loose with the rules without completely throwing them out of the window. Snyder proved with this slight evolution of the character through the support of action set-pieces (of all things) alongside the script, that thematic issues need not take a back seat, specifically in a movie so much about the characters as opposed to the brand, as was the case here. Reinforcing this point was the story arc that accompanied Superman, who was motivated by his never-ending love for both Lois Lane and his family, and ultimately torn about whether being the Superman was the right thing to do. This left him an unfocused and emotional hero who was often exploited by both Batman and Lex Luthor, meaning the story was, together with Batman’s arc, reminiscent of the themes confronted by Snyder in his work on Watchmen; that of heroes being shades of grey instead of all-powerful and all-good as has often been the case with the black and white comic book movie genre.

Snyder also proved that he was adept at presenting a post 9/11 movie confronting themes such as terrorism with a frightening likeness. The famed ‘Bruce Wayne running into the dust of a falling building’ sequence from the trailer was perhaps the best example of this as, in the first couple of minutes of the movie, Snyder invited the mind to associate with Wayne’s travelling vehicle and thus created an association between the direction Wayne was going in and the oncoming plume of smoke that was to engulf him. This made the engulfing all the more effective as a frightening moment and invited empathy towards the victims of Superman’s fight with General Zod in Man of Steel, therefore instantly placing Superman in the role of antagonist. Later in the movie, Superman himself was subject to such terror courtesy of an out-of-nowhere bomb explosion that resulted in the death of dozens if not hundreds around him, somewhat reversing Superman’s role back to protagonist. It was, at face value, presented in order to frighten, but underneath the aesthetics were deeper themes again regarding the not so black and white nature of the movie’s chief characters, Lex Luthor included. In keeping with these developments and the neat ways in which they were stitched together were Snyder’s moments of fan service. Though they may have left casual audiences in the dark regarding their significance, there’s no doubting that the small nuances of the mise-en-scene were truly in-keeping with the famed comic book and graphic novel covers of Batman and Superman comics of yesteryear as well as audience expectations of secondary characters not yet introduced to this particular DC Universe. This made for an exciting watch with many a twist and turn that kept the long run-time of 2 and a half hours seem a great deal shorter and a whole lot more meaningful than in Man of Steel.

One of the strongest qualities of the movie was the way in which it stayed focused on the central characters Batman and Superman despite it sporting such an array of famous comic book names in supporting roles. This did, however, create an increased level of pressure on the often criticised Henry Cavill and the controversial Ben Affleck, both of whom stepped up their game to carry the film with an effectiveness that was both engrossing and admirable. Cavill was particularly strong in the more emotional parts of his role which was in stark contrast to his not so impressive feats in this movie’s predecessor, but Ben Affleck was truly the master of the pair. Affleck’s grinding-teeth, slightly pinched eyes look was exactly what you’d expect a dark and damaged vigilante to look like, and would have been the performance of the movie were it not for the supporting performance of Jesse Eisenberg as Lex Luthor.

Eisenberg’s Luthor was perhaps one of the most prominent of all the well placed secondary characters as he was the lead antagonist for the most significant parts of the movie. His performance presented a character who was dealing with real issues of psychosis and psychopathy, and did so with such a watchable gusto that it lit up the screen per his every appearance. Perhaps just as importantly, Eisenberg helped to modernise this famous super villain from its routes as a middle-aged power hungry corporate menace to that of a modern CEO with brains, guts, something to prove, and importantly with regard to juxtaposing Batman in particular, youth . He was scene-stealing from the moment he debuted and it truly was a pleasure to watch.

Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman made her big-screen debut and was given a role that was able to present her as hugely important without stealing the purpose of the whole movie (to build the new Superman and Batman) ahead of her standalone due in 2017. The Israeli born actress was effective in the role and certainly showed a star quality needed for leading such an important superhero movie as her standalone, but in Batman v Superman it couldn’t be helped but to create a likeness between her relationship to Bruce Wayne and the relationship Anne Hathaway’s Catwoman had to Christian Bale’s Bruce Wayne in The Dark Knight Rises. Significantly, Amy Adams’ Lois Lane remained a key character for this Man of Steel sequel and was therefore a prominent character too, despite how writers and producers may have been forgiven for slashing her role under the pressure of creating watchable and identifiable Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman characters, each with superior abilities (or equipment) when compared to the average human being. Crucially, this ensured that there remained a portal into the supernatural and fantastical world of the superheroes for it is through Lane’s eyes that a true association can be made with the brutality of what is at stake; though it did seem like the movie was somewhat at odds with itself regarding the strength of the Lane character who at times was incredibly powerful and self-motivated and at other times was the typical damsel in distress she is famed for in comic book lore.

Perhaps the biggest criticism that can be thrown at Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice is that it’s not funny enough for a movie of its type. Though the Dark Knight trilogy proved that a darker and ultimately more adult and serious superhero movie can be financially successful and critically acclaimed, Batman v Superman’s transition away from that style of filmmaking and into a more universal appeal through the creation of the DC Cinematic Universe created expectations of the movie being more like the MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe) with its touches of comedy, something that BvS almost completely lacked. Though I feel that the serious nature of the movie was one of the more enjoyable aspects of the picture due to how it appeared to confront darker themes and more contemporary issues with more clarity than the more light-hearted pictures of the genre, there was room for a few more laughs and this will likely turn casual audiences away from the prospect of seeing the film.

Perhaps just as importantly with regard to the reception of the film by casual audiences, Batman v Superman can be quite exclusive in terms of its easter eggs, unnamed secondary characters (that are of huge significance if you know about them and the plans DC/Warner Bros have for the Universe), and the way that the entire plot assumes you already know about Lex Luthor and his role in other Superman movies/comic books. It gives off the aura that you have to be a part of that exclusive comic-book club to truly follow the movie in all its glory, which is great if you know your stuff but not so much if you’re a ‘newby’ or have only seen one or two DC comic book movies.

From a technical stand-point there were a few things that weren’t quite as excellent as the rest of the picture, which was technically outstanding (particularly with regard to its presentations of Metropolis and its Hans Zimmer soundtrack) for such long stretches, including some graphical work that caused confusion regarding who was fighting whom where – something that must be considered key for an action movie – and the insistence that locations, dates and times be written across the screen to save on ‘proper’ storytelling techniques. Further to the point regarding the script, Dawn of Justice was laden with dream sequences that seemed like cheap ways to get the motivations of its chief protagonists across and were of such a high number that it left you questioning whether later fights were actually dreams or not.

In conclusion, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice is certainly one of the better entries to DC and Warner Bros’ cinematic partnership and is of such an improvement on Man of Steel that credit has to go to where credit is due. Eisenberg is the stand-out of a cast that was performing at a very high level to portray characters who were each written effectively and appropriately for vast periods of the film and Snyder’s work in the director’s chair is clear and present to see without being overwhelming as has been the case in the past.

There simply isn’t a better way to start 2016’s Summer blockbuster season or DC’s Cinematic Universe.

18/24