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Digging into V-CINEMA ESSENTIALS Part 1: CRIME HUNTER: BULLETS OF RAGE & NEO CHINPIRA: ZOOM GOES THE BULLET
A bi-weekly deep dive into the world of Japanese V-Cinema curtesy of Arrow Film’s comprehensive set
Before I dig into the set a bit of background on the genre of V-Cinema:
Back in 1969 Toho was the first studio in Japan to create a home video division to capitalize on the up and coming technology, and would be followed a year later by Toei and Nikkatsu. The three would later collaborate on one of Japan’s first video stores in 1977 in the Ginza shopping district, while the country was still figuring out the strategy for home video as a platform. A big influence on Toei’s approach would be Kinji Fukasaku’s yakuza masterpiece the Battles Without Honor and Humanity series (Also released by Arrow), which consists of five films with an eight and a half hour runtime that chronicled the rise of the Yakuza in Japan post World War 2. While these films were a staple of all night repertoire screenings with the advent of video, it was now possible to do this in the comfort of your own home.
The story goes, when Toei producer Tatsu Yoshida famously asked a video store patron how they managed to rent and watch all five films in a single night and return them the next morning – they admitted to fast forwarding past the slower bits of the films to get right to the action. This conversation cemented Toei’s approach that would be copied by every studio in Japan, movies that dropped the exposition and wouldn’t be fast forwarded. While the advent of direct to video anime or OVA was already an established cash cow at this point with the ability to release more adult themed titles, the concept of direct to video films had yet to be the movement it would be after the release of Crime Hunter, the first film on Arrow’s set that would begin the V-Cinema craze.
While some studios toyed with a day and date release with theatrical, Toei had the idea of producing direct films optimized for this format with more skin and more action delivering more bang for your buck. Exposition scenes would be kept to a minimum, as these films were the junk food of cinema created to deliver nothing more than pure entertainment value and the first two films on V-Cinema Essentials do just that – with two very different flavors of these films. Tom Mes lays this all out in his excellent visual essay on the set Crime Hunter and the Dawn of V-Cinema, that’s as dense as it is thorough in its telling of the sub-genres origin story. I first became aware of Tom’s writing about his appearance on Samm Deighan’s podcast Eros + Massacre, which led me to his writing on Midnight Eye, which I highly recommend.
The first film 1989’s Crime Hunter: Bullets Of Rage was the first V-Cinema film and sets the bar going forward. Highly influenced by western action movies, it’s the kind of insane and over the top film I couldn’t believe I was watching for the first time. Fueled by American action tropes Crime Hunter takes place in Little Tokyo in America and begins with the Murder of Joe’s (Masanori Sera) partner Ahiru, played by a fresh faced Riki Takeuchi. They are about to arrest Bruce Yamamoto (Matano), who just stole five million dollars from a church, when a third party dressed up as droogs from A Clockwork Orange shows up and opens fire. This sends both Joe and Bruce off to try and figure out who this third party is before they track down the missing money. Joe is aided by a shotgun toting nun who out to get the money back for the church and its just as great as you’d expect.
The film is American action through the Japanese lens and its pure insanity as you’d expect. I think the main reason for the film location being the US is so they can just have guns spawn everywhere, chrome plated shotguns, machine guns and pistols. By the end of the film Joe is sporting a headband and doing his best Rambo impersonation, as he makes his way through this group of baddies, eventually joining forces with Bruce to get the money back, definitely a nod to Hong Kong’s heroic bloodshed trend. The most surprising part is how derivative the film is while still feeling like its own thing, AND STILL somehow pushing the envelope of action with plenty of shootouts and set pieces that had me in constant disbelief at just how hard it went.
Next up was 1990’s Neo Chinpira: Zoom Goes The Bullet, which was the exact opposite side of the V-Cinema coin with a very Japanese entry into the Sub-genre. This film focuses on a low level Yakuza, Junko (Shô Aikawa) who definitely got into the life because of his love of gangster films. One day he finally gets his first big assignment from the boss – he’s to be the look for an assassination of a rival boss. The problem is his two older brothers get cold feet due to the possibility of a 9 year jail stint and injure themselves leaving the task to young Junko. Its just as this opportunity is set before him that Junko forms a relationship with the troubled Yomeko (Chikako Aoyama), a beautiful young runaway, who ends up living with him as he quickly ascends the Yakuza ladder thanks to this assignment.
Given Crime Hunter felt very American, with heavy emphasis on the action, with little to no exposition, Neo Chimpira feels very Japanese in its narrative language. While we don’t get blocks of actually verbal exposition, we spend a lot of quality time with Junko and Yomeko as the two begin to see something equally broken in one another. Junko is obsessed with this life of crime he’s seen in the movies and wishes to be this embodiment of the tough guy, while he is still only a child. Yomeko on the other hand has been forced to grow up too fast and she helps to give Junko that confidence to do the job put before him. I mean it’s either that or possibly get killed by his own boss. The film is just as fascinating as an exploration of Yakuza culture as it is a character study of these two individuals.
That first disc is not only a stunning introduction to V-Cinema, but a great look at the origins of the two icons of the sub-genre Shô Aikawa and Riki Takeuchi. Ironically while Takeuchi plays a cop in Crime Hunter he is probably best known as for his iconic Yakuza roles – to the point he had his own clothing brand that was geared towards real Yakuza in Japan. You will probably recognize the pair of stars from Takashi Miike’s Dead or Alive series (Also released by Arrow), where I first encountered the pair at the peak of their popularity. Also of note, when Miike came up as a director in the Japanese studio system, V-Cinema was then used as a training ground for young directors where his over the top transgressive style and work ethic allowed him to prove himself a force to be reckoned with.
Probably the most surprising thing for me as a fan to realize watching these newly restored editions is they were indeed shot on film. Unlike American direct to video that seemingly cut every corner it could, V-Cinema shot and edited on film and looks amazing here on this new release. These are also probably the same restorations that recently hit Japanese theaters in a celebration of V-Cinema not too long ago. Thanks to this upgrade in quality it is apparent these films have actual real budgets with some impressive cinematography, even presented in 1:33 and some impressive production design that is on full display here. Like the spray painted Camaro car Joe drives in Crime Hunter that is effectively just waiting to be blown up and all the posters and gangster ephemera in Junko’s room in Zoom.
The first disc comes with the below extras included:
- Newly filmed introductions to both films by Japanese film critic Masaki Tanioka
- Loose Cannon, a newly filmed interview with Crime Hunter: Bullets of Rage director Shundo Okawa
- Zooming Out, a newly filmed interview with Neo Chinpira: Zoom Goes the Bullet writer-director Banmei Takahashi
- Crime Hunter and the Dawn of V-Cinema, a brand new video essay on Crime Hunter: Bullets of Rage by Japanese cinema expert Tom Mes
- Original trailers for both films
The first two films offer a very strong start to this set and highlight two very different takes on the same sub-genre, that are both well worth your time for different reasons. Crime Hunter was pure American action insanity, while Zoom Goes the Bullet was more an understated Japanese character study that mixed the director’s pre-filmography in the pink film genre, with a coming of age Yakuza story that hits unexpectedly hard. It’s a double feature that alone is worth the price of the set and I don’t say that lightly and given what’s to come, I can’t wait.
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Weir Watch: The Price of Awareness Is THE LAST WAVE
Richard Chamberlain shines in this dark fable of privilege and injustice.
“We’ve lost our dreams. Then they come back and we don’t know what they mean.”
This line, spoken by the recently departed Richard Chamberlain playing David Burton, is at the heart of what Weir is up to in The Last Wave, his third feature film and in many ways his most challenging one yet. Dreams play a big part into the plot of The Last Wave, both literal and figurative, and specifically the idea of that dreams exist somewhere between perceived reality and that which is unknown. But what happens when those dreams are punctured, transforming into nightmares? What happens when the carefully crafted world you have established around you suddenly seems to be falling apart?
Weir being Weir, this narrative plays out against the individual. Quite literally one person’s (Burton’s) dream splinters apart, and his whole life becomes a dark shadow of itself. But it is impossible to talk about The Last Wave without digging deeper into the larger scale narrative Weir is exploring. Yes this is the story of, as Weir himself put it, “someone with a very pragmatic approach to life” finding his reality being deconstructed. But it is also a story about Australians, specifically white Australians, having to confront the nature of their very nation.
Let me get this out of the way here: while all of Weir’s films up to this point have touched upon Australian national identity as a subtext, The Last Wave puts it front and center. Specifically it is a film that explores the nature of white Australian citizens’ relationship with Aboriginal tribes. This creates a slight barrier between American viewers and the original intended Australian audience, but one that is worth exploring if for no other reason to consider commonalities.
David Burton is a tax lawyer who finds himself wrapped up in being drafted to serve as a public defender for five Aboriginal men who have been accused of a grisly murder. This is due to once helping with an Aboriginal land deal, but there is a larger coincidence: Burton has on suffered from frightening, Apocalyptic dreams, some of which include an Aboriginal man. When one of the accused turns out to be the literal man in his dreams, it feels like more than a coincidence that this occurred.
Meanwhile across Sydney, strange meteorological patterns have been occurring. This includes massive rain and hail storms, which causes Burton’s dreams and visions to transfer into grisly scenes of a massive flood. In the midst of all of this, Burton becomes increasingly convinced he may be Mulkurul, a piece of Aboriginal belief that entails people having divine visions of the future.
As you might expect, all these plotlines converge and cross and compound across each other. The Last Wave is dense in themes, mixing conversations about 1970s Australian society and the place Aboriginal citizens play within it with startling doomsday iconography. Cinematographer Russell Boyd, a regular Weir collaborator, expertly shoots these segments, blending dreamlike visuals with realistic grounding to make it unclear what is actually occurring and what is a dream.
A big theme throughout the film is the idea colonialism as a means of modernization. Namely, several people surrounding Burton assure him that the Aboriginals in this case are not part of any sort of “tribal” culture, that they are woven and assimilated into the very fabric of white Australian life. Burton remains uncertain, seeing them as set apart and of a distinctly different culture. The reality of course lies in between these two extremes. There is a balance that Weir is teetering on here, of showing admiration and respect for Aboriginal culture, while also falling into the occasional trap of exoticizing and romanticizing it. For both Weir and Burton there is something tragic in the lost civilization that was flattened by European influence, but that civilization is presented as strange, magical and unknowable.
The inherent tension there is assisted by Chamberlain’s performance. There is a soulfulness to his depiction of Burton, of someone who is struggling with his growing awareness of the pain inherent to the society he lives in, and mournful for the comfort he surrenders. Those in his sphere, especially his wife Annie (Olivia Hamnett), feel like they are losing him as he shows increasing compassion and concern for the Aboriginal men he is defending. What was supposed to be an easy case to convince them to plea guilty to get a minimal sentence turns him attempting to coerce them into saying out loud what has long been buried.
It also helps that Weir went to great lengths to include Aboriginal people in the creation of the film, including several actors and a special collaborator to assure he presented the culture respectfully. The main two actors were David Gulpilil, credit as simply Gulpilil, who plays Chris Lee the dream man who guides Burton deeper down into the storm, and Nanjiwarra Amagula as Charlie, the shaman who attempts to keep Burton at arm’s length. The fact Amagula was an actual tribal shaman gives his performance particular gravity, even as he plays an ostensibly antagonistic character.
Burton is in many ways a trademark of the Weir individual, despite having a guide in the person of Chris. The Individual is a central theme that will show up throughout Weir’s work. But Burton’s rallying cry against the unacceptable shape of the world he resies in is also his own undoing. By confronting the social injustices that led to his own position of leisure and power, he must be confronted with his own previous blindness. Put more contemporarily, Burton must check his privilege, and the price is ultimately his life as he knows it.
Similar to Picnic at Hanging Rock, the final climactic moments of The Last Wave are purposefully vague and open to interpretation. But unlike that film, the uncertainty isn’t at the heart of what the film is attempting to dig into. Rather, it is the burden of knowing. To widen your perception and compassion does come with a price. For Button, that compassion and empathy is felt so deeply that it becomes an obsession, and in seeing and confronting the imbalances his very presence illicit, he realizes that there is no way that this could all end but destruction. But when precisely that destruction came, either in the future or past, remains shrouded in mystery.
Next Week: Weir returns briefly to his grimier roots with The Plumber.
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The Archivist: THREE THE HARD WAY (1974): A Team Up From A Simpler Time
In some ways ahead of its time, 1974’s Three The Hard Way from Gordon Parks, Jr. was a bit of an “Avengers Assemble” cinematic moment, bringing together some of the most meteoric stars of blaxploitation cinema in one irresistible package. Even the marketing tagline at the time sold this picture as an event around its casting: “Action explodes all over the place, when the big three join forces to save their race”. It’s clearly led by Jim Brown as L.A. record exec Jimmy Lait. When his old friend escapes from a nightmare death camp and, on his deathbed, exposes a diabolical plot to exterminate black folks via a 007 villain-esque bio-weapon that only kills them, Lait has to recruit his best ass kicking friends to save the day and rescue his kidnapped girlfriend Wendy (Sheila Frazier). His first stop is to Chicago for his old friend Jagger Daniels (Fred Williamson), a well-dressed player who takes some convincing. But when a literal army of evil Nazis try to kill them, Jagger is all in with a bullet. Lastly, it’s off to NYC to recruit their kung fu master buddy Mister Keyes (Jim Kelly).
Bond Villain-esque Nazi race killer Monroe Feather (Jay Robinson) has recruited his own mad scientist and they’ve already created a sci-fi looking red elixir they plan to introduce into water supplies in 3 different cities across the US, to begin immediately killing millions of unsuspecting black people. It’s diabolical, over the top, and conveniently divided into 3 batches so each of our heroes can foil plans in each of the three cities.
There’s definitely a major entertainment factor running through the entirety of Three The Hard Way. Eddie Murphy’s version of Rudy Ray Moore, in Dolemite Is My Name, makes an incisive comment at one point in criticism of a mainstream movie: “it’s got no titties, no funny, and no Kung Fu.” Well, Dolemite need not worry about Three The Hard Way, because it aims to please and throws everything and the kitchen sink at its contemporary audiences. Not only do you have these big stars, you’ve got them taking time to bed some ladies, rock the most stylish outfits known to 1974 mankind, roll out in fancy cars, and even do it all set to one of those soundtracks written just for the movie featuring lyrics that talk directly about the plot and characters from the movie from The Impressions. It’s simple entertainment. It sells beautiful black people, black excellence, contemporary music, and yes, even some Kung Fu. And for a 90 minute cinematic romp from Super Fly director Gordon Parks, Jr (himself a rare black director of blaxploitation films), it works.
I couldn’t help but bring a modern lens to it as I revisited Three The Hard Way via this Warner Archive Blu-ray release. And it hit me pretty profoundly that with all the entertainment this film throws out to the audience, from stunt casting, to contemporary soundtrack, to over the top and salacious plotting… it still represents a formula that used to be enough from a major motion picture, but which might not be enough today to make a dent in the cultural zeitgeist. Star vehicles alone aren’t enough in today’s crowded pop culture landscape. A catchy soundtrack featuring an up and coming recording artist might not equate to box office gold. Movies were simpler in 1974 (though humanity itself, race relations, etc, were no less complex). Three The Hard Way is formulaic, but formulas used to work! And it works here! It’s just a depressing feeling I couldn’t shake thinking about how even the “Avengers Assemble” approach that worked in 1974 simply wouldn’t be enough today. Alas, we’ll always have the cinematic legends of the past as long as these classic titles continue to be available to us.
And I’m Out.
Three The Hard Way is available on Warner Archive Blu-ray and features the 97 minute theatrical cut of the film (as opposed to a truncated 89 minute home video version that was apparently widely available for many years) in high definition and a theatrical trailer.
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MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE – THE FINAL RECKONING is a Fitting Send Off…For Now
“I need you to trust me, one last time.”
That line has been lodged in my brain since the first trailer for Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning landed. Each time I caught the trailer that line supercharged my excitement. Now, two years after Dead Reckoning Part 1 (they can change the title, but it’ll always be Dead Reckoning Part 1 to me), The Final Reckoning is here to bring closure to the story started in the previous film and the series itself. After all this time and the run of Tom Cruise-Christopher McQuarrie collaborations (including Top Gun: Maverick and Jack Reacher), they’ve certainly earned the audience’s trust multiple times over.
Picking up months after the action in Dead Reckoning Part 1, Ethan and his team are on the hunt for Gabriel (Esai Morales), the elusive assassin seeking the cruciform (a fancy key) that will grant him control of the Entity, the AI capable of bringing the world to its knees. As always, the techno mumbo jumbo is serviceable at first, then increasingly ludicrous the more it’s explained. And The Final Reckoning is hellbent on explaining it. Throughout the film’s first hour, McQuarrie and Erik Jendresen’s script stacks one expository conversation on top of another. I genuinely think the repetition is meant to be a joke. The number of times characters say “the Entity” is absurd. It culminates with Nick Offerman delivering a staggering line reading of “we’re in the Entity’s reality now.” I think that’s the line. Maybe it’s “the Entity’s world.” Either way, I laughed and that laughter may have caused me to miss the line or misremember it. The Entity.
McQuarrie evens out the absurdity of all that Entity chatter with numerous shots of what will happen if the Entity gains control of the world’s nuclear arsenal. The bleakness of the images of cities being wiped out gives the film a dourness that it sometimes trips over. Needless to say, the entire world is at stake once again and Ethan Hunt remains its only hope. Where The Final Reckoning stumbles is when its tone leans too heavily toward somberness. Yes, the stakes couldn’t be higher, but this series burns brightest when it’s a globe-trotting adventure with breathtaking action and crackling sense of humor. Proving that to be the case, The Final Reckoning picks up steam after that first hour of table-setting is complete.
While this is Ethan’s show all the way, the film makes time to give everyone their moments. Series stalwarts Ving Rhames and Simon Pegg shine brighter than usual as Luther and Benji. Newer additions like Hayley Atwell’s master thief Grace and Pom Klementieff’s assassin Paris are great and steal many of their scenes. Especially Klementieff, who gets to play more humor than we’ve seen from Paris before. Shea Whigham and Greg Tarzan Davis, stuck as cuckolded agents Briggs and Degas in the last film get meatier roles this time out. It feels like a victory lap, and a bit indulgent, but I found most of these character moments to be satisfying.
Continuing with the coronation thread, The Final Reckoning is on a mission to tie up many of the series’ loose ends, not just from the McQuarrie run of films, but the whole shebang. Long a source of jokes, this film finally explains what The Rabbit’s Foot (the macguffin Phillip Seymour Hoffman’s villain was after in M:I – lll). The story even makes room for disgraced CIA agent William Donloe (Rolf Saxon), the agent in charge of the Black Box room Ethan broke into way back in the first film. Did we need all of these answers, follow-ups, and callbacks? Probably not, but smoke’em if you’ve got’em.
Where The Final Reckoning shines brightest is its two massive action set pieces, unsurprisingly. The first is a lengthy underwater sequence with Ethan scuba diving hundreds of feet down to mess around with the sunken submarine from the opening of Dead Reckoning. It’s completely dialogue free, with just the score playing and the terrifying sounds of the submarine creaking and croaking. Most of the series’ best action moments are fast paced and cut between multiple threads, the kind of thing that would make Christopher Nolan proud. This submarine sequence goes the other way, slowing down and letting the tension naturally build as every move Ethan makes brings him equally closer to success and oblivion. The other one is the plane business that has been glimpsed in the film’s promo materials. This one manages to one up the plane stunts from Rogue Nation. Like most of the series’ elaborate action, words can’t really do them justice. You really need to see them, on the biggest screen available to you, to bask in the glory of the skill, imagination, scope, and filmmaking on display.
I used to be a passive fan of the MIssion: Impossible films. I’d watch them when they came out, be entertained, then move on to the next movie. It wasn’t until Fallout that I was all the way in on the franchise. Better late than never, right? The FInal Reckoning is a worthy sendoff for Ethan Hunt and the franchise itself, if this actually holds as the final Cruise-led Mission. It may not reach the delirious heights of the series’ best films, but it offers plenty of melancholy close ups of Cruise along with a few final “how did they do that” level stunts on its way out the door. I left the theater feeling like my trust had not been misplaced.
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Reb00t: THE CRAZIES Drops The Political Satire, But Revs The Horror [4k Review]
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Breck Eisner’s 2010 remake of the Romero classic drops most of the political subtext and satire to make an out-and-out monster movie. Luckily, it’s a damn good monster movie, which you can now (finally) own on 4k from Lionsgate Limited!
Welcome to Reb00t! A series where I dig deep through the 2000’s to find all the horror remakes that we were inundated with over that weirdly bleak decade. Sometimes they’ll be good, sometimes they’ll be terrible, sometimes they’ll be great. In a few, rare times, they’ll be better than the original! These are all my personal views, obviously, so feel free to tell me I’m insane in the comments.
This week, we’ll be revisiting 2010’s The Crazies, while also taking a dive into the new 4k release from Lionsgate Limited!
Coming at the tail end of the horror remake boom of the aughts, The Crazies exists in a bit of an interesting time, both in the horror cycle, as well as in society at large, not too dissimilar from the film it is remaking. Is it able to do something interesting with all of that? Mostly!
First, a bit of a strong opinion; I view the original The Crazies as a genuine masterpiece from Romero, arguably up there with his Dead series in pure societal satirization. Released in 1973, in the waning years of the Vietnam War, The Crazies is Romero’s response to the world around him, specifically, the way the U.S. military had completely and utterly fucked up Vietnam. A pseudo-zombie film that focuses more on the government’s response, The Crazies is absolutely pitch black in its humor, showing us a government response team who consistently botch every single step they take towards containment, ripping the town to pieces in the name of “national safety”.
It is a world where everything is fucked; the dead being robbed by the containment teams, the living forced into tight quarters, spreading the disease quicker, and the only man who can possibly cure the illness held back by beauracracy and voice recognition software. It is a reality where the loss of over a 3rd of the population is considered a “successful containment”.
That isn’t even delving into the incredibly dark journey of the few survivors we follow. Admittedly a bit thinner characters than Romero is known for, the group of survivors we follow through the Western PA woods are still put through the meat grinder, their lives unraveling with each passing hour. They all start to succumb to the disease, their minds slipping into insanity, becoming either totally docile or incredibly violent (or, in the case of one really harrowing moment, incredibly lustful). As we watch the last survivor carted away, his entire life destroyed in front of him, he is placed with the rest of the crazies, his uninfected but haunted visage enough to convince the doctors he is incurable. This thing is bleak.
So, 37 years later, the remake was released. In 2010, we were still recovering from a recession, and the ghosts of both Afghanistan and Iraq were fresh. It isn’t too dissimilar a world than that of ‘73. So, how did the filmmakers fare in remaking this anti-war film for the modern audience?
By not really making an anti-war film at all! 2010’s The Crazies instead shifts the focus, turning it into more of an outright zombie film. Which, you know what? It works! For the most part!
Dropping pretty much all of the government bureaucracy angle from the original, ‘10 The Crazies instead focuses on the town and the townspeople themselves. While they were presented more as overall statistics in the original, the remake spends the first act fleshing out these characters, giving us an idea of what the town of Ogden Marsh was like before everything went to hell. We grow attached to these characters, and genuinely care about how they’ll fare throughout, which is admittedly an improvement on the original.
It’s also just an out and out horror film. The ‘73 The Crazies is much more of a pitch black satire with a few horror elements. In the 2010 remake, though, the mission is to just scare the hell out of you. Even 15 years later, it is still pretty successful at that, really digging into the horror of a whole town gone homicidally insane.
The one slightly interesting caveat to that, though, is the fact that The Crazies came at the very end of not only the remake phase, but of the nihilistic horror phase. Obama was in the White House, we were pulling out of the recession, and spirits were starting to rise, especially in our media (remember, this came out right at the start of the MCU era; right when movies became “happy” again). This was the end of angry, mean horror films; the Blumhouse “haunted house” style of horror was about to take over. As such, this does feel noticeably toned down from something like The Hills Have Eyes or The Texas Chain Saw Massacre remakes, with a bit of a “happier” ending than the original (or, at least, not as bleakly nihilistic). It’s still mean as hell, but you can feel the brake being pumped here and there.
Honestly, the most interesting change between the original and the remake is the view on the military. In ‘73, the military was presented as an absolute carnival of morons, all of them tied up tight by bureaucracy. Consistently, the containment is hamstrung by slow responses and missing equipment. In the end, after all the bloodshed, they didn’t even contain it, realizing that it had clearly spread days before they arrived.
In 2010, though, they’re a whole other beast. The military comes swooping in in the night, quickly establishing a base camp and containment zone in what seems to be minutes. The entire town is quickly under the control of masked individuals who shoot on sight. This is pure “shock and awe” military spectacle, and one of the few times the film seems to reflect the era, as Apache’s roam the skies and tanks block the highways. It is a full 180 degree shift from Romero’s perspective, while still coming to the same conclusion; no matter if you are a bumbling group of stooges or jacked-up storm troopers, containment is useless.
It is a distinctly different approach to Romero’s source, but still works great on its own terms, creating its own hellish quarantine zone.
The Specs:
And, hot damn, was it great to watch this gem from 2010 in glorious 4k! I was stuck watching the real beat-to-hell Blu from back in 2010, and seeing this in 4k was a treat, especially in the color throughout (almost forgot how great real fire looks on film!). The audio is also top notch, with Dolby Vision Atmos, that makes every single gunshot pop incredibly loud and immersive.
The new release also comes substantially packed with extras. The Lionsgate Limited exclusive extras include a new 2025 commentary with director Breck Eisner, several BTS extras such as establishing the shot with Breck Eisner, Sculpting The Horror of The Crazies, and storyboard to screen: car wash. There is also an alternate ending included that hasn’t been featured on any of the previous releases. Also included on the standard Blu are a collection of BTS features, trailers, and motion comics. For a release in 2025, it is seriously packed with extra goodies!
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The 2010 The Crazies is very much its own thing. While Romero’s original was a scream in the night, anger at a nation that not only failed, but patted itself on the back for it, the remake is more of a classic monster film, not as concerned with political subtext. Luckily, though, it is a top notch monster movie that is still incredibly mean-spirited and dark. Easily one of the best from this era of horror filmmaking.The Crazies (2010) is now available on Lionsgate Limited in an exclusive steelbook!
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We Say Goodbye to a Legend with THE ROYAL TENENBAUMS [Two Cents]
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Our celebration of the late, great Gene Hackman concludes with one of Wes Anderson’s trademark films.
Two Cents is a Cinapse original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team curates the series and contribute their “two cents” using a maximum of 200-400 words. Guest contributors and comments are encouraged, as are suggestions for future picks. Join us as we share our two cents on films we love, films we are curious about, and films we believe merit some discussion. Would you like to be a guest contributor or programmer for an upcoming Two Cents entry? Simply watch along with us and/or send your pitches or 200-400 word reviews to cinapse.twocents@gmail.com.
The Pick: The Royal Tenenbaums (2001)
Gene Hackman was truly one of the greats, and in honor of his life we’re working our way through a sampling of his filmography – from old favorites, to some that we may be catching up with for the first time.
This week we look at one of Hackman’s last performances in film; despite only recently passing, he took a very public retirement in the early 2000s. He left behind a legacy of incredible performances, and a reputation for both doing incredible work and being a giant pain in the ass on set. Which is precisely why he attracted the attention of a up and coming director named Wes Anderson.
Following his cult hit Rushmore, Wes Anderson mounted his most ambitious film yet: a huge ensemble family dramedy that drew from his own life as well as the works of JD Salinger and French filmmaker Louis Malle. He assembled some former collaborators in the Wilson brothers and Bill Murray, but mostly filled the cast with new faces. For the role of the family patriarch, he only had one name in mind; as he later put it, Anderson wrote it for Hackman “against his wishes.”
It would end up being a career defining success for Anderson, and a unbeknownst to people at the time a career-end highlight for Hackman. But how has this early career highlight held up over two decades later? Let’s discuss.
The Team:
Spencer Brickey
It’s with a heavy heart that I close out our run on Gene Hackman. Spending the last two months with this genuine master of the craft has been not only illuminating to the strength of his abilities, but the overall berth of his career. We could do a totally new series on Gene, and pack two more full months of other substantial performances. He was just that good.
Which is why it feels kind of perfect to end on The Royal Tenenbaums, as both a showcase to one of his best final performances, and a glimpse into who he was as a performer, both good and bad.
Released in 2001, The Royal Tenenbaums was Wes Anderson’s third feature, after Bottle Rocket and Rushmore. While his films had been well casted before, The Royal Tenenbaums felt like a step up, as he brought on both young up-and-comers and seasoned performers to bring his idiosyncratic vision to life.
The biggest name, of course, being Gene Hackman. Hackman, recovering from a bit of a slump in the ‘80s, had a hell of a run through the ‘90s, winning an Oscar and being in countless classics. He was also getting older, and his method of “follow the paycheck” job acceptances seemed to be catching up to him, as well as his age.
It’s that type of energy that Gene plays Royal Tenenbaum; a man who has spent a lifetime lapping up luxuries, but is also starting to face his twilight years with a sense of dread and panic. Royal is a man with a laundry list of mistakes in his life, who is trying to figure out what he can still fix in his final years. At first, it is just a money scheme, to get himself back to level. But, soon, it becomes a realization of the life he left behind, of the people he abandoned, and the buried pain he wants to mend, for both himself and his loved ones.
Gene puts it all on the line with Royal; he is charming, and snarky, and booming with anger when the time calls for it. He is also a wounded man, trying to navigate the broken pieces of the family he left behind, hoping to find forgiveness from people who don’t really owe him anything. It is a funny, touching, and heartbreaking performance, one of his genuine best.
Unfortunately, many people know about Gene in The Royal Tenenbaums not for his performance, but for his attitude on set. Famously, director Wes Anderson and Gene Hackman did not get along, with Hackman routinely chastising the young director. It apparently got so out of hand that Bill Murray had to play sheriff on set, keeping Gene in check.
It’s admittedly not a good look, from an actor who had famously been known to be a bit “hot-headed”. Personally, what I always viewed it as was an actor from a different generation coming up against the new generation. What had been the norm, on set and in direction, was changing, rapidly. A man who had come up in the old studio system was now being directed by an indie scene darling who didn’t do things the way it used to be done. It isn’t an excuse, mind you, but a possible perspective of what was occurring on set.
I think there was an internal writing on the wall that Gene discovered on the set of The Royal Tenenbaums; it was time to call it quits. The exhaustion was starting to outpace the passion. There were a few more roles after this, but this always felt like the last time his heart was truly in it. As such, I’ve always come to view The Royal Tenenbaums as the last true, great Hackman performance, and, on rewatch, I can conclude it is still very much great.
Goodbye, Gene. You were the best to ever do it.
Spencer Brickey on Letterboxd
Frank Calvillo
Even though Wes Anderson had had plenty of success on the arthouse scene with Bottle Rocket and dipped his toes into mainstream-lite with Rushmore, for many The Royal Tenenbaums is the writer/director’s arrival. It’s easy to see why this is. The film introduced him to his widest audience up to that point and put many of his now-signature trademarks on full display. The intricacies of his characters, the museum art feel of his aesthetics that somehow feel both timeless and vintage, and the quirkiness of his humor with its hidden dashes of pathos all appear in The Royal Tenenbaums. For the longest time, the film was considered to be his most popular and acclaimed entry until it was dethroned by The Grand Budapest Hotel. The movie garnered Anderson his first Oscar nomination and put him fully on the map.
The Royal Tenenbaums still holds up thanks to the aforementioned timelessness of the world Anderson created and the willingness of the all-star cast to surrender themselves to the filmmaker’s curious, yet undeniably potent storytelling sensibilities. But the film wouldn’t be the classic it is today were it not for the participation of Gene Hackman. Although the actor had played around with comedy in the past, not many would have thought him suitable for the world of Wes Anderson. And yet it’s hard to picture any other actor taking on this role and being as successful with it as Hackman was. The actor embraces the many flaws Royal has, showing him to be a rather rough around the edges sort of character trying finally to make right all that he did wrong. His habit of saying something inappropriate or callous without even meaning to makes for a series of head-shaking laughs. This includes his criticisms of a young Margot’s play, and the infamous visit to the cemetery. Throughout it all, however, Hackman gives Royal a real air of tragedy and a humanity that shows that even later in life, he isn’t totally what the world knows him to be.
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Justin Harlan
Let me start by saying that I know I’m the weirdo but… Wes Anderson is, at best, a mixed bag for me. I find moments in most of his films quite fun and endearing, but I’m not sure there’s a full film I love… or even really like. I find them all rather inoffensive and I enjoy them alright, but have little to no desire to rewatch any of them. Tenenbaums, I thought, may be the exception. It was one I really liked for a period in college, but hadn’t revisited in years since.
So, with this rewatch, I found that the Wes Anderson shrugfest continues. While not even this film can make me truly love an Anderson-phile, I do believe it’s my favorite of his films… either this or Rushmore. What makes this one mostly work for me – to no one’s surprise after a month of films celebrating his life – is Hackman. More than the fact that I really love him in this, it cemented something for me. Gene Hackman was a glue guy.
In sports, a player who isn’t always the standout but always manages to keep things together is sometimes described as a “glue” guy. That’s Hackman. No matter whether he’s the star, part of an ensemble, or in a relatively small role – he is largely what holds many films together. This is something that needs to be celebrated and cheered, as many films feel disjointed and films with Hackman rarely ever do.
So, I wrap our nearly two months of the Hack Man with a newfound appreciation of the man. He can surely chew scenery as a compelling leading man, but even when that’s not what he’s called to do, he’s the glue that holds so many films together. To me, that may be his truest legacy.
@thepaintedman on BlueSky
Julian Singleton
The faded, wood-paneled and concrete world of The Royal Tenenbaums is stuck in a 70s-era arrested development. There’s a nostalgic splendor on the periphery of its sprawling urban decay, the kind of infrastructure we depend on even though we’ve given up on any sort of change. It’s the same sensibility Wes Anderson evokes in his fallen family cast, a family of geniuses who abandon any sense of progress after Dad Royal Tenenbaum (Gene Hackman) abandons them.
Everyone responds to that stunted growth differently, whether it’s depression, detachment, or overbearing overprotection. But altogether, they freeze like the world around them, clinging to habits like fashion and decor even as time continues to chip away at them. Those caught in their orbit – children, friends of the family, fading spouses, potential new ones, even complete strangers – fall victim to the same seemingly irreparable stillness.
As much as life has dimmed the fire within the Tenenbaums, it seems like everyone else can see the individual embers still glowing in everyone but themselves. But in true Andersonian fashion, it makes sense that the prodigal patriarch is the one to get these fires going again, the unwitting, debatable savior of the same family he once wrecked.
It makes sense that a sonofabitch like Royal would try to bluster his way back into his family in the almost the same way he left it, like no time has passed at all – save for the big thing that awaits all of us, and even then that aspect is another tall tale. What remains true, though, is Royal’s universal desire to reconnect with those he loved and lost despite clinging to the flaws that drove them away. It’s a Hackman performance that belongs on the actor’s Mount Rushmore for how, like so many of his characters, he clues audiences into the contradictions the character can’t see in himself. He’s a riotous charmer despite being a total dick. We can’t help but want to get into some scrapping and yelling with him, even as he suggests “swinging by another grave” of a loved one at the local cemetery. It’s as much his habit to extend an olive branch even if the branch just so happens to be falling from the tree it sprouted from.
That earnest sense of hope and benevolent acceptance of damaged, dour souls is an ethos that powers a ton of Wes Anderson’s work–whether it’s a mentor like in Rushmore, a world like in The Grand Budapest Hotel, or this small family in some aged corner of not-quite-New-York. Even if Royal left this world again with such suddenness–as did the titanic actor who played him–the impact he leaves sincerely sears us as much as this family of reawakened geniuses.
@juliansingleton on BlueSky
Jay Tyler
I would argue that Royal Tenenbaums is the quintessential Wes Anderson film. That isn’t to say I think it is his best (that would still be Rushmore), but I think it is the best distillation of his whole aesthetic as a director: obsessively meticulous cinematography, lush and eye-popping set and costume design, a sprawling and game ensemble cast, and a center of delicious regret. It helps that this is the first time that a Wes Anderson movie had this feel in full force, but every film sense has felt to one degree or another a riff on the zone that Anderson found with Tenenbaums.
Those visual qualities are the thing that oft people gesture towards as the Wes Anderson “thing,” but I do think that cast is the secret to a lot of his films’ successes. And this movie is no exception. From Ben Stiller as the brilliant but hapless Chas, to Gwyneth Paltrow as the poetic and birdlike Margot, to the delightful deadpan of Kumar Pallana as the trusted valet Pagoda.
But it is our subject, Gene Hackman, that really makes the film sing. As disgraced patriarch Royal Tenenbaum, Hackman is magical, a truly singular performance in Anderson’s canon. He is a bristly mixture of brashness and warmth, a figure you can immediately see the magnetic animal charisma of, but also have a certain level of clarity of the misery he leaves by his actions. He’s selfish, but at least knowingly so, and his journey to become a better man to fix the mess he made gives the sprawling story a center that holds it together.
Very rarely has Anderson’s influences been as clear as in Tenenbaums. His riff on JD Salinger’s Glass Family stories, about the struggles of child prodigies into adjusting into adulthood, really seems like a rich vein for Anderson to tap. In some ways it is a companion piece to Rushmore, a story of what happens when three Max Fischer’s find themselves colliding with the real world.
But Royal holds the center, showing warm maturity and clarity. Hackman would only appear in two more films, across the next three years, before retiring. But you can add Royal to a lifetime of remarkable performances, a career that rivals just about any other name you could think of.
Austin Vashaw
The Royal Tenenbaums is Gene at his best. It’s easily my favorite performance from Hackman, and falls just shy of being my favorite Wes Anderson film – that honor belongs its thematic partner The Life Aquatic, which for context happens to be my all-time favorite film.
Tenenbaums is the film where, in my opinion, Anderson solidified his style, adopting the familiar hallmarks and pulling in an incredibly huge and stacked ensemble cast of both stars and character actors and playing well known comedians like Bill Murray and Ben Stiller decidedly against type, even trusting an unusually morose Stiller to deliver the film’s most memorable and soul-shattering line of dialogue (which he did, perfectly).
I guess it’s well known now that Anderson and Hackman clashed a lot while making the film, and that the grumpy actor made no effort to conceal his contempt during the filmmaking process – only to reverse his opinion after seeing the finished product.
There’s absolutely no hint of this in the film, though. For any personality flaws, Gene was a consummate performer and he’s putting on an absolute showstopper here, adroitly embodying a difficult character that’s rotten, hilarious, despicable, charming, relatable, and even tragic, as Royal Tenenbaum, the disgraced and estranged patriarch of the faded and deeply hurting Tenenbaum family. Like The Life Aquatic, the film is essentially about a bad father trying – far too late – to make amends (and in both films, outmatched by a long-suffering, more deserving wife portrayed by Angelica Houston).
It’s a film I love unreservedly, and I’m glad for Hackman’s role in its success, even if he didn’t appreciate it at the time.
We are taking next week off from Two Cents, but keep an eye open for our theme for June. Suffice to say, it’s going to be a RIOT.
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LILO & STITCH: Reality Bites
Disney’s latest live-action re-envisioning deals out yet a new flesh and cgi take on another beloved animated masterpiece – this time a personal favorite of mine 2002’s Lilo & Stitch, Chris Sanders’ co-directorial debut. Unlike most Disney titles this was one that I came to as an adult, and dug because of how it pushed the boundaries of what you would expect from a Disney film with its little blue anti-hero. Stitch starts the film as a monster, and ends the film having discovered the importance of family and being a better person thanks to a young pair of orphaned sisters Lilo and her older sister Nani, who take him in as their own.
If you’re unfamiliar with the particulars of Lilo and Stitch, it follows experiment 626, a super cute genetically engineered alien bio-weapon, who escapes from captivity and crash lands on earth, on one of the islands of Hawaii. As a weapon he was made to target and destroy large metropolises, but thanks to his one limitation – that getting wet increases his density sinking him like a lead weight, drowning him, it effectively strands him on the island in the middle of nowhere. Of course, hijinks ensue as more aliens are sent to the planet to recapture him, as he embeds himself with a lonely young girl – Lilo Peleka (here played by Maia Kealoha) who wished for a friend, with 626 pretending to be just that in her new dog. Lilo & Stitch(2002) was edgy for a Disney animated feature and I figured its counterpart would be nothing less, I just didn’t anticipate what would happen when the film literally lost those softer animated edges.
The first act of this re-imagining really struggles, we have a bunch of things happening that all feel somewhat independent of the other. Once Stitch enters the mix with Lilo however, it feels a bit more cohesive as a narrative thankfully, but still somewhat fractured up until the end. While young Maia Kealoha somehow carries the film on her young shoulders, she visibly struggles in some of the more intimate scenes with her older on screen sibling played by Sydney Elizebeth Agudong who’s craft is much more developed. Sure they’re acting together in some scenes, but there’s a visible space between the two that is almost as evident as some of the really strange petting scenes with Stitch where hands will go through/into him in an odd PS1 game glitch sort of way. Don’t get me wrong Stitch does look amazing here, but once you notice it, you can’t not see it when there’s an interaction.
That original animated film broke with Disney’s MO with not only its anarchic lead, but its lush 2D watercolor world, complemented with a more rounded art style, when it came to its characters. When I heard this was the next title to get the ol’ Disney Double Dip, I was honestly optimistic given the film’s story didn’t feel like it could be over politicized as something it’s not, and it’s hard to project anything political on a six year old protagonist who just wants friends. Oddly what I didn’t foresee and neither did the filmmakers, is its loyalty to the source material that would feel much more dire and bleak when brought into the real world and we lose that safety net of the Disney cartoon bubble, where only parents aren’t safe. In real life families get broken up. In real life people become homeless and people and aliens also die.
I think removing that safety net of animation really ups the stakes and the stress Nani and the audience is under(This is a kid’s film after all), as protective services wants to take away Lilo, while Stitch is being hunted by Pleakley and Dr. Jumba. There’s also a really oddly nightmarish scene that has Lilo drowning as Stitch is trying to use her to climb to the surface to stay afloat, that’s much more intense than the animated film, that really would have me thinking, I would have dropped Stitch off at the “farm”. Sure, he’s lovable and cute, but the film never really forces him to have that visible moment of clarity once he can’t fulfill his destructive intended purpose. In the animated film the crux of this thematic turn is realized in a touching scene when Stitch happens upon the children’s book, The Ugly Duckling, about a duckling that no one wants because he’s different, but discovers where he belongs with his new family and right there Stitch is humanized in a way I don’t think happens in the live action version. It’s just one minute he’s terrible, and one moment he’s not or slightly better after almost killing Lilo.
Lilo & Stitch sometimes works, and sometimes does not. Maia Kealoha is a joy. Stitch looks great. But the film struggles to keep the pieces moving and in sync, while struggling to keep the audience invested in the heart of this piece, which is sometimes the sisters and sometimes the film’s namesake duo. I also feel like they over complicated the conflict between the sisters, Nani is not only struggling with proving she can take care of her troublesome sister and her alien pet, but keep a job and somehow go away to college to become a marine biologist. It’s a lot that is heaped upon her character’s shoulders, which makes Lilo and Stitch’s antics in the real world more distressing than adventurous as they once were. While it’s not a bad movie, it doesn’t have anything new to say and unlike Stitch I’m not sure this film has a purpose other than to be a glorified IP commercial to reinvigorate the sale of Stitch plushies.
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Criterion Review: The Bewitching Charms of ANORA [4K-Review]
![Criterion Review: The Bewitching Charms of ANORA [4K-Review]](https://i0.wp.com/cinapse.co/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/image-3.png?resize=1140%2C470&ssl=1)
Sean Baker’s acclaimed feature showcases the star-power of Mikey Madison
As someone who basked in the charms of Anora at a festival screening months before it’s release, I ended 2024 with a rather enamored view of the film. Awards season is a window of time where films get built up and often torn down, by some quarters at least. Anora seemingly wasn’t for everyone, but it had enough support to help it bring home six Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Director (Sean Baker), and Best Actress (Mikey Madison). Criterion’s release offers a chance to revisit the film away from the hustle and bustle of awards campaigning, and away from the competition and the vociferous factions championing other films. A repeat viewing that confirms that yep, the Best Picture won.
For the uninitiated, Anora follows Ani (her preferred name), a tough, foul-mouthed, whip-smart stripper and sex worker. Working one night at a club in Brooklyn, she’s paired with a client on account of her ability to speak Russian. Vanya (Mark Eydelshteyn bringing boyish charms along with a blend of insolence and immaturity) is the young son of a Russian oligarch and quickly becomes infatuated with Ani. One night leads to an offer of a 5-figure sum to spend the weekend with him. For Ani, this whirlwind experience is equally intoxicating, and with the pair riding on a high, they end up getting married while on an escapade in Vegas. The next day, reality comes crashing in as word reaches Vanya’s parents of his actions. His father sends some of his goons to bring the pair to heel and ensure the marriage is annulled. Faced with the consequences of his actions, Vanya bolts into the city as Ani is left behind, defiant that their love is real, and nothing will get in the way of their future together. Battered and bruised from their encounter with this young woman, these men drag her across the city in search of Vanya, looking to force the dissolution of his union with Ani before his parents arrive.
What begins like a modern-day Pretty Woman mutates into something darker, messier, and infinitely more interesting. Baker, as with Tangerine, The Florida Project, and Red Rocket, keeps attention locked on the fringes of American life, the scrappy underdogs, the hustlers, the people doing what they can with what they’ve got. Here, it’s through the lens of romance, tackling a modern day affair perfused with the transactional elements that are all too common in our capitalist world. This reshapes things from a conventional “will this pair make it” to a deeper look at Ani herself. Her pursuit of a better life, her dreams of lifting herself up, her energy, drive, determination in the face of physical and psychological efforts to push her back down to where these affluent folk think she belongs.
It’s honest and compelling work, sobering and heart-wrenching at times, tempered by an infusion of screwball energy. The initial encounter with these heavies (including the surprisingly empathetic Igor, played by Yura Borisov) is a raucous affair. Sparks fly. Heads butt. Hands are tied, and this is all before they’ve even left the house. Ani is propulsive chaos, whose attitude (reinforced after having a taste of the highlife) is as much a character quirk as well as a plot element. For Madison, this is not just planting a flag as an actress, it’s a role that is both breakout and defining. She explodes off the screen. Ani is flawed, funny, savvy, and fueled by a mix of survival instinct and stubborn optimism. She’s the kind of girl you’d fall for in a heartbeat, but question whether you’d ever introduce her to your mother. Again, a reflection of the class and social perceptions engrained into us all. Madison’s work defines the film itself.
For Baker, he deftly balances these differing tonal elements by rooting the film in empathy. Never judging these characters never moralizing what some need to do to , just an unflinching gaze and a whole lot of heart. He writes Ani as something indefagitible, even as the fantasy starts to collapse and the cold reality creeps back in. The final scene hits like a gut punch, with our Anora having been chewed up and spat out, left to reflect, finally vulnerable with a future uncertain, and a glimmer of something defiant that will see her through.
The Package
Criterion’s 4K-UHD transfer is flawless, with a consistent quality image throughout. High contrast, and robust colors, all work to complement the high detail of the transfer, and easily handle the shifts between the warmer tones of strip clubs and Vegas and the cooler hues of the real world. Blacks are deep and inky, and a nice tempered grain persists throughout. The release includes one 4K UHD disc of the film presented in HDR and two Blu-rays with the film and special features:
- Audio commentary 1: featuring Baker, Coco, producer Samantha Quan, and cinematographer Drew Daniels, and the other featuring Baker and actors Yura Borisov, Mark Eydelshteyn, Karren Karagulian, Mikey Madison, and Vache Tovmasyan: A good dive into the more technical aspects of the film, with talk covering locations, approaches to shooting, lighting and tone, and more. A fine ‘filmmakers’ look at Anora
- Audio commentary 2: featuring Baker and actors Yura Borisov, Mark Eydelshteyn, Karren Karagulian, Mikey Madison, and Vache Tovmasyan: Expectedly, this commentary tilts more towards the performances and personal experiences of the cast. The group also do share insights into some technical aspects of the production, as well as some playful anecdotes. It’s a bit disjointed, but a fun addition
- New making-of documentary: Running close to an hour, it’s an amalgamation of behind-the-scenes footage from the entirety of the film’s shoot. Unfolding chronologically, it’s a great alternate way to experience the film
- New interviews with Baker and Madison: One features Baker sharing his inspirations for Anora, while the second pairs them both to talk some specifics about the character and their approach to various scenarios within the film, notably the strip club sequences
- Cannes Film Festival press conference: with Baker and members of the cast
- Q&A with Madison and actor-stripper Lindsey Normington: digging into some of the training Madison underwent for the role, as well as thoughts on the film and it’s depiction of strippers and sex-workers
- Deleted scenes: Around 7 minutes of trimmed footage, nothing of real substance
- Audition footage: Around 15 minutes of footage for some of the supporting cast
- Trailers:
- PLUS: Essays by film critic Dennis Lim and author Kier-La Janisse: Included in the liner notes which also are built to evoke the aesthetic of a 70s film magazine
- New cover by Bianca Parkes and GrandSon, with photography by Max Abadian
The Bottom Line
Anora represents a continuation and refinement of the style of storytelling Baker is known for, an exposed and honest look at people on the fringes of society striving for something better. It’s warm, chaotic, and enthralling and ultimately driven home by a tour de force performance from Mikey Madison. Criterion’s release showcases a pristine transfer and a wealth of extras to better appreciate the magic wrought here.
Anora is available via Criterion now
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LILO & STITCH Flourishes by Keeping the Focus on Family
The charm and chaotic energy of the original animated classic persists in this live action remake
Undeterred by the stumbles, the tepid reviews and lackluster ticket sales, the Disney live action program continues. Yet another cherished part of your childhood lifted and put through the process of translating the hand-drawn magic into something more tangible. The process often brings spectacle, but never seems to capture the soul of the original, until now. Lilo & Stitch stands out as perhaps the most successful translation to date, something it achieves by not just respecting the original, but by building out some of its more resonant themes of family and sisterhood.
If you’re unfamiliar, the story centers on Lilo (Maia Kealoha), a precocious six year old girl navigating life in Hawaii after the tragic death of her parents. She’s quirky, lonely, and acting out in frustration at a lost connection and nothing taking its place. Enter Experiment 626, a genetically engineered alien fugitive who crash lands on Hawaii and evades a pair of alien agents tasked with his capture escapes capture by disguising himself as a dog and becomign adoted by Lilo. As if her sister Nala (Sydney Agudong) didn’t have enough to handle with holding down a job, dealing with social services, and raising her sister, now this whirling ball of chaos is planted firmly in their lives. A destructive element that somehow helps to drive the process of healing and pulling the family back together.
Director Dean Fleischer Camp’s Lilo & Stitch isn’t just a remake. It’s a thoughtful reimagining that retains the charm of the 2002 original while refocusing the lens on what made it so enduring in the first place: family, grief, resilience, and the healing power of a chaotic little blue alien. This 2025 version builds on that, not just recreating beats but reshaping the narrative for live action. In doing so, it makes one significant and welcome shift in expanding on Nani’s part of the story.
Played with a real sense of authenticity Sydney Agudong, Nani isn’t just the beleaguered big sister struggling to keep custody. She’s a young woman in her own right, not just trying to hold down a job and care for her sister, she dares to have a dream of a career in marine biology. The loss of these girls parents takes on new depth as we see how her future might be derailed by the tragedy. It’s a modern update that doesn’t feel like an agenda, but reflective of a truth about the lasting impact of loss.
Newcomer Maia Kealoha shines as Lilo, balancing mischief with a quiet sadness. The bullying aspect of the original film is somewhat tempered (aside from one casually cruel comment near the start) and she’s not quite as eccentric as her animated counterpart, but the portrayal does the necessary job of grounding the film. As for Stitch, he’s still voiced by original co-director Chris Sanders, and is perhaps more cute than chaotic here, part of this stems from a better developed arc for Stitch himself as the film is set to not just leverage his presence into helping heal the two girls, but to also give Stitch room to grow too. Even with this expansion, Lilo & Stitch remain the emotional core of things and their (mis)adventures remain the most delightful portions of the film.
Camp, who showcased his ability to charm tug on the heartstrings with Marcel the Shell with Shoes On, brings that same sensitivity to Lilo & Stitch. The landscapes are lush, the lighting warm, the textures tactile, with Hawaii beautfully rendered in the film. The live-action setting plays well with the overall story, the contrast of Stitch and other aliens with our world add more of an absurdist comedic vibe than you’d get in an animated feature. The alien hunter subplot is where more of these CGI beings are spotted and still feels a little tacked on. Zach Galifianakis and Billy Magnussen add much of the slapstick, fish out of water humor as Jumba and Pleakley. Magnussen brings a cheerful cluelessness to his role as “Eearth Expert Pleakley while Galifianakis injects some late-stage menace as his efforts to capture Stitch go to extremes. Courtney B. Vance carves out a space as CIA agent Cobra Bubbles, although with the other story changes his presence doesn’t feel as essential to the film.
The screenplay, by Chris Kekaniokalani Bright and Mike Van Waes, wisely avoids a shot-for-shot rehash. Instead, it expands character arcs, adds new layers, imaginative elements (playing with portals!), and brings a stronger sense of cultural and emotional grounding. Nani also has a romantic subplot that isn’t just filler, again it adds to illustrating the changes within her life and the loss of her identity now she is a caregiver. Tia Carrere (who voiced the original Nani) returns as a social worker who gives weight to the real-life pressures on the sisters, and a counter comes in the form of Amy Hill’s Tutu, a neighbor and extended family member who adds warmth and wisdom.
It turns out that for Disney live action adaptations the the formula for success is to not follow the formula, instead it’s to take some creative choices to set it apart from the original. Lilo & Stitch stays true to the charm and playfully chaotic vibe of the original, but takes steps to make the story more resonant and relatable to modern day. In doing so it makes for a deeper story, one that holds true to the underlying message, about the importance of Ohana, whether it comes in the form of a sister, or a salivating blue alien with impulse control issues.
Lilo & Stitch is releases on May 23rd
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MICKEY 17. A Muddled Effort from Bong Joon Ho [4K-Review]
![MICKEY 17. A Muddled Effort from Bong Joon Ho [4K-Review]](https://i0.wp.com/cinapse.co/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/image-15.png?resize=1140%2C570&ssl=1)
Darkly comic fare, with enthralling world building and a social commentary that is just a little too on the nose
Six years after Parasite made Oscar history, Bong Joon-ho returns with Mickey 17, a dark but disjointed sci-fi satire adapted from Edward Ashton’s novel Mickey7. The film sees Bong blending dystopian space opera with black comedy and a pointed social critique. But while Parasite sliced through class warfare with surgical precision, Mickey 17 lacks the finesse needed to make its point,
Robert Pattinson stars as Mickey Barnes, an endearing screw-up with a debt problem. After taking out a loan from the local mob alongside his best friend Timo (Steven Yeun) they find themselves unable to pay if back and with time running out face the very real threat of a slow dismemberment. Their solution, get the hell off of Earth. In this dystopic future, colonial missions are setting out into the stars and one is about to get underway led by a Trumpian strongman named Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo), who believes in purity, destiny, and the superiority of himself and his followers.
A registration mishap marks Mickey as an “Expendable”, a role that entails performing the ship’s most dangerous tasks, which almost always end in death. But thanks to technology that backs up his consciousness and reprints a new body. As the space-faring mission unfolds, Mickey doesn’t just give up his life (repeatedly) but also his heart, to fellow crew member Nasha (Naomi Ackie). Making landfall at the distant world of Nilfheim, Mickey 17 is left for dead after an accident, but helped back to the ship by some native creatures. Upon arrival he finds a new surly version of himself already having been activated. “Multiples” are an egregious violation of the law and their combined presence coincides with the climax of the mission and Kenneth Marshall’s efforts to instill his vision of society on this new planet.
The film’s first half is a stylish, blackly comedic, and undeniably engaging. The world building is enthralling, Bong’s signature deadpan wit and sense of foreboding infuse well into proceedings. But somewhere along the way, Mickey 17 begins to buckle. Exposition piles up (the voice-overs get a bit much), characters spew competing ideologies, and a subplot involving intelligent native alien lifeforms (the very ones who saved Mickey 17) gets lost in the noise.
There are flashes of brilliance throughout. Visually, the film is gorgeously grubby, blending futuristic advancements with an industrial vibe. Pattinson’s performance is kooky and charming, his physicality shifting just enough between Mickey’s incarnations to make them distinct and offer the audience a character in Mickey 18 to channel some of the palpable outrage the film provokes. His accent and delivery toe the line between goofy and oddly affecting and anchors the film emotionally. Aiding this is Ackie, who brings warmth and depth to a role that serves as a contract to the other blinkered crew members, but crucially humanizes Mickey all the more with her acts. A scene when she cradles Mickey after he’s been used as a guinea pig in a vaccine trial being a standout
Mickey 17 is also messy. The satire can be heavy-handed , especially when Ruffalo’s character starts spewing fascist-lite rhetoric that feels like an on-the-nose Musk/Trump pastiche. There are jokes that drag far past their expiration date, a bit about sauce from Marshall’s wife Ylfa (Toni Colette, also hamming it up) is stretched way too thin. Even with these flaws, Mickey 17 is always energized and interesting. The film takes some big swings at themes of mortality and morality, greed and values, and our gloomy lurch to putting profit over people. It hammers it’s points home a little too hard, but in this day and age, maybe that’s necessary.
The Package
Mickey 17 presents with a really top quality transfer. Detail is superb, showing off the creativity of the production design, from panels to ships to costumes, to creature design. Depth of image is a standout, with an excellent range of color and contrast, deep blacks, and no artifacts or issues, just clean and precise from start to finish. Extra features feel a little lacking considering the source material, current day context, and technical aspects of the production, but they do provide some coverage in the key areas of interest:
- Behind the Lens: Bong Joon Ho’s Mickey 17: writer-director Bong Joon Ho, author Edward Ashton, and key cast members, including actors Robert Pattinson, Mark Ruffalo, and Toni Colette, chat about the film’s story, thees, and their own characters. Just over 10 minutes, but solid enough
- Mickey 17: A World Reimagined: Another 10 minute featurette which focuses on the world-building and overall aesthetic of the film
- The Faces of Niflheim: Just over 8 minutes, it covers the casting process for Mickey, as well as Pattison’s approach to the character(s)
- Trailers:
The Bottom Line
Mickey 17 is an ambitious, satirical space odyssey impresses with its look and feel (aided by one of the best looking 4K releases I’ve seen this year), as well as the turn(s) from Robert Pattison. The messaging is timely, and occasionally effective, but lacks the deftness to really entwine it with the story in a successful way. Bong Joon Ho’s latest is messy and muddled, but undeniably evocative and interesting.
Mickey 17 is available on 4K-UHD from Warner Bros. Home Entertainment now
