Zombieland: Double Tap, the sequel to 2009’s Zombieland, takes place ten years after the events of the first movie. As a voiceover from Columbus tells us, the crew- Tallahassee (Woody Harrelson), Columbus (Jesse Eisenberg), Wichita (Emma Stone), and Little Rock (Abigail Breslin)- have become a close-knit family and expert zombie killers. But when Little Rock runs off and new, more dangerous zombie types emerge, Wichita, Tallahassee, and Columbus go on a road trip to rescue Little Rock and find a new safe haven. 

The most important thing to know about Double Tap is that it is remarkably similar to Zombieland, which is a feat for two movies that have a ten-year difference. Both are goofy, poorly paced, self-indulgent, charming in small doses, and have inconsistent characters. If you liked the first one, you’ll like this one, because it feels like such a natural extension of the first, from the atmosphere, internal logic, comedy style, and gross-out violence, to the resolute refusal to use the zombies and apocalyptic setting for any kind of social commentary. It’s a straightforward movie about killing zombies. That’s what you get. 

Propelling this straightforward story is the exceptional cast, which continues to be the most compelling part of these movies. The only thing that would help would be if their characters were written with any consistency, but the movie gets to cheat by relying on the actor’s personas and outside affiliations. For example, Harrelson and Eisenburg have great chemistry, but the relationship dynamic between Tallahassee and Columbus fluctuates wildly throughout the two movies. However, the actors have a similar, but more concrete, relationship dynamic between their characters in the Now You See Me movies, and so my love for those movies and my liking of their dynamic there just carries over. Similar things could be said about Emma Stone and Rosario Dawson’s characters, which both borrow heavily from their respective actor’s typecasts. 

Abigail Breslin is, unfortunately, the weakest link. The movie doesn’t know what to do with her, so she ends up being a plot device more than a person. This was disappointing, as she is a great actress and I have a personal fondness for her (I looked a lot like her when I was 9 or 10, and my film preferences and personal aspirations were heavily shaped by her roles in Nim’s Island and Kit Kittredge: An American Girl. Those movies rock). 

After I saw Double Tap, I asked the group I was with if this movie was for or against the second amendment, as it talks a lot about guns and much of the plot focused on when our heroes are armed or disarmed. While our heroes love guns, the climax cleverly removes them from the characters and forces them to defeat the zombie in another way (this makes the climax a lot better than that of the first Zombieland, and is also similar to the ending of The Three Amigos). After this philosophizing, my friends looked at me blankly, and then one, with insight I can only aspire too, said: “I think the zombies change things.” And she was right, and I realized the movie probably didn’t put that much thought into it. 

Double Tap doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel or build upon the first one. And while I generally prefer more ambition in movies and more effort, I saw this after a rough week and it was exactly what I needed. It truly is escapism with the flimsiest excuse for existing, and that, in moderation, is perfectly okay. Just like this film. 

-Madeleine D.

The first IT movie is the highest-grossing R-rated horror film with $700.4 million at the worldwide box office. Based on Stephen King’s 1986 novel, the movie became a critical and commercial success. The search for an adult cast to play the main characters- aka “the Losers”- was highly publicized and scrutinized. With a cast evenly divided between marquee stars and unknowns, IT Chapter Two has a lot riding on its shoulders. 

Did it succeed in bringing this grand epic to a satisfying conclusion? 

Yes and no. 

IT Chapter Two has more scares (in part because of its nearly three-hour running time) but they’re different than the first. For one, there is less Pennywise, and instead, IT takes different forms. The different forms are usually grotesque, vaguely-human forms that do gross things. The body horror element freaked me out, but some of the people I went with found it funny, so it just depends on your sense of humor. They’re creative, but not as psychologically disturbing as the first film. 

Besides the scares, there’s not much else that this second movie does that’s different than the first. When it comes to the character arcs, plot, and tone of the movie, everything is just about the same. In the first film, we meet the characters individually, then the team comes together, they split up for individual sequences where IT reveal more about their characters, and then they come together in the sewers to try to kill Pennywise. That’s exactly what happens in this film too. Add in all the flashbacks and callbacks to the first film, and this second feels like it’s just an expensive remake with an older cast. 

Readers of the book will no doubt be disappointed. The book spends time establishing the Losers in their adult lives, something the film doesn’t have time to do well. The book also develops the theme of the adult Losers losing their memories and having to re-learn about Derry and Pennywise (the film only tangentially explores this theme). By doing this, the reader understands how the Loser’s childhood traumas influenced their adult selves and how that changes their relationship to IT and to each other. To not have that in this second film creates a barrier between the audience and characters, and weakens the message the filmmakers are going for. 

Leah Schnelback writes in her excellent review of the film for Tor, “Your real life can turn into a horror story any time—the check didn’t clear, the doctor needs to speak with you in person… You remember again that your carefully constructed life is an illusion that can crack apart without warning. When we go to a horror movie we pay to have this experience…Part of the contract is that the nightmare moments might slip the bounds of reality—that we’ll become children again, in thrall to a fairy tale full of monsters and things that can’t possibly happen. This is what IT is about… The opening half-hour of the film is almost completely taken up with human monsters—psychotic homophobes, abusive husbands… This group of adults who have all experienced real-life horrors have to learn to be kids again so they can defeat a mythological monster.”

That opening half-hour is not enough time to explore these adult lives, and that blunder plagues the entire film. The “real-life horrors” feel inconsequential because we barely get to see them before we get to Pennywise.

It sure doesn’t help also that while the adult cast is incredibly well-matched with their teenage counterparts in terms of looks and mannerisms, they lack the same chemistry as the younger group. This is in part because they don’t spend that much time together in the movie. The plot keeps separating them, making the scenes when they are together and are talking about their close bond ring false. 

Also ringing false is the film’s explanations of Pennywise. Instead of letting him be terrifying because he’s mysterious and unknowable, the film tries to explain the mythology behind Pennywise and the demon-alien thing it comes from, the IT. It makes the plot more convoluted and the film fails to justify why we even need to understand his origins in the first place. In some cases it’s okay not to explain “the why”.  

~

IT Chapter Two starts out with a voiceover from Mike talking about how memory is selective and we are often just as much the things we make ourselves forget as we are the things we choose to remember. The whole film ruminates on the idea of memory, with the adult Losers spending the majority of the running time trying to reconnect and remember their childhood selves. 

There’s something interesting here about how it takes courage to confront the memories we’d rather forget, and how we aren’t fully ourselves until we can see all of ourselves. It’s only then when we can truly connect to other people. But because we don’t get a sense of how the Losers forgot their childhoods in the first place, or what they do with themselves after they kill Pennywise for good, and they spend little time connecting to each other in meaningful ways, this entire theme falls flat. Instead, we just get some new scares and scenes meant to remind us of the first movie. There’s very little substance. 

It seems like the knowledge that the first film was a success is what has kept this film from succeeding. The unassuming innocence of the first is lost, and this second entry feels like it’s trying too hard and won’t stray far enough to be unique. 

Yet, I have to admit, I had a great time watching it. It was the perfect escapist adrenaline kick for me with scares that were scary but not too scary, and not disturbing enough to stick with me late at night. But that also means nothing from the film is going to stick with me, and that’s a shame.

-Madeleine D.

Ocean’s 8 follows a simple premise, tried and true from the previous entries in the Ocean’s franchise (which disclaimer, I have not seen): head con gets crew of other cons, does dope stuff while being ridiculously cool and glamorous, gets away with it, everything is awesome.

This the perfect so-called “summer movie.” Was I surprised? No. Was I entertained? Yes. Did I assign the roles in the film to my real-life friends and begin imagining a heist of our own? I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.

If you are reading this review, I have a feeling you have some interest in seeing Ocean’s 8, and if the above sounds like what you want, then I say go see it. All of the actresses are amazing, director Gary Ross is competent, and if you don’t see it soon, the handful of celebrity cameos and pop-culture references are already going to be outdated. This movie is about seeing Sandra Bullock and Cate Blanchett blow bubbles outside of a window where Helena Bonham Carter and Anne Hathaway are talking about Met Gala dresses (true scene) and that’s almost exactly what I expected and got.

But is Ocean’s 8 more than that? Watching the film, I tried to scour it for messages and hidden depth besides “crime is fun and kinda easy” and “if you use stolen money for personal satisfaction, and you’re a likable person, all is well.” Here’s what I found:

One of the reoccurring themes in the film is that of women being invisible- and how in this game, it’s an advantage. At one point, Debbie Ocean (Sandra Bullock) and her partner Lou (Cate Blanchett) discuss candidates for their crew and when Lou suggests a man, Deb says no because he’s “a him, and a ‘him’ get interest. A ‘her’ gets ignored.” Then throughout the film, the ladies show how their invisibility helps them, whether it’s using their bodies as a distraction, acting dumb and ditsy, or using the power of women’s bathrooms to hide. These women know how to use being ignored and silenced against others.

The film’s point is obviously to show that the joke’s on everyone who underestimates these women, including the moviegoer. You want to underestimate women? Okay, but now you’re 150 million dollars short and in jail. Take that, patriarchy.

Now that’s a serviceable message, but right now culturally we’re finally moving towards women being encouraged not to be silent. We’re are getting attention for all sort of things, getting interest for what we say and do. Leading up to its release, Ocean’s 8 had created a media narrative about being a part of this change, which is a good thing. Except, despite the fact that the film is about women who expect to be silent and ignored, and who use that to make a big statement (in the form of their successful heist), this film actually has nothing besides that to say. It’s thematically silent, pretty, and very shallow. So… you know…. like a stereotype of a woman?

Now to be fair, the Ocean’s franchise has always been a vanity project, first for Frank Sinatra and his buddies, then George Clooney and his buddies, and now Sandra Bullock and all these other famous ladies. There’s nothing wrong with making a sleek, fun, completely fantastical and glamorous film to make the rest of us feel inadequate.

So it’s wrong for me to ask this film to be extra, because as Ani Bundel says for NBC in her review of the film, “A women’s movie must be outstanding to get attention — especially if it’s funny. It cannot be a ‘Dante’s Peak’ style film; it must be ‘Bridesmaids’ or ‘Steel Magnolias.’” I don’t want to add to the pressure that films starring women must be extraordinary (and make millions at the box office) to be noticed.

But, as I try to do with all of my reviews, I assert that films should have something to say. And here the message goes no further than, “we can do it like the boys.” And that’s kind of disappointing, particularly since I think we’ve gotten past that as a culture. Women being “bad” is already chic right now.

I don’t love these full gender-swapped films because it causes the pendulum effect. Hollywood is high on girl-power right now, to right the wrongs of #MeToo, and so it’s going from the standard extreme all-male films to all-female films. Soon, it will hopefully settle in the middle, where everyone can be represented in media. But for now, this is what we’ve got, and while I wish it was a little more, it’s a fun ride and even has the potential to bring people together, as exemplified when my sister walked out of theater, turned to me, and said, “I would rob the Met Gala with you.”

As if I wouldn’t have been able to convince her otherwise.

-Madeleine D

One of the best parts of watching a horror movie is asking yourself, “Would I survive this? And if not, at what point would I die?”

I decided I would have probably died in A Quiet Place about halfway through. Emily Blunt’s character Evelyn lives in a post-apocalyptic world overrun with blind monsters with super hearing. She and her family live on a farm in constant fear of making noise. And she’s pregnant.

One night, with her family out, she hears the monsters come into the house. Then her water breaks. She goes down the stairs to hide, and steps on a previously upturned nail. It is at that point, I would scream and gladly let the monsters eat me.

But this scene, which my description gives no justice to, is one of the reasons A Quiet Place might be one of the most well-written films of all time. It does everything from a screenwriting perspective right. The stakes are constantly raised, all of the character have some kind of guilt, every scene has a purpose, every plant has multiple payoffs, and of course, it’s the epitome of “show, don’t tell.” And credit should go to director John Krasinski and cinematographer Charlotte Bruus Christensen (Fences, The Hunt) for letting the script “speak” for itself with practical, purposeful, and restrained directing and cinematography.

I was afraid going in that my movie-going experience was going to be ruined by the audience. But A Quiet Place shows what film has the power to do as a medium. The audience I ended up in was one of the most well-behaved ones I’ve ever seen. A minute in and everyone was dead silent. I heard someone struggling to eat popcorn as quietly as possible. There was not a peep during the whole film. A Quiet Place immediately sucks you into its mindset and plays with your every emotion. Each action is deliberate and every facet of the film- the acting, direction, set design, score, and sound editing- is used to engage the audience and force you into the place of the characters. Sound becomes the enemy and a character of its own.

It’s hard to talk about A Quiet Place, not only because it’s best to go in without any big spoilers, but the film is prime material to be a metaphor for something. But determining what that something is is all the more difficult without dialogue. Krasinski and Blunt have said it’s a film about parenting, which is clear by the end. However, it could also be about childbearing, our obsession with sound, or how we adapt and function when disabled.

Or, it could simply be an excellent film that uses all of the horror-genre conventions to its advantage, and will take your breath away. But once you see it, don’t be afraid to exclaim how good it is.

-Madeleine D

*Mild Spoilers Ahead

In elementary and middle school, one of my favorite movie series was the Nicholas Cage National Treasure films. They were the perfect sleepover movies to watch with friends, to ooh and aww at the exciting chase sequences, and to laugh at the jokes. They weren’t great films, but they were fun, exciting, and tried to teach a little history and patriotism. I’m not familiar with the Angelina Jolie Tomb Raider films, or the original video game this film is based on, so as I watched the new Tomb Raider (2018) it was not those images that came to mind, but National Treasure.

Now, this new film is fairly predictable. There were a few times that I found myself saying the next line of dialogue (“The tomb’s not trying to keep people out… it’s trying to keep people in!”), and a careful viewer can point out the twists a mile away. Yet, by the end I had decided that at my next sleepover, I was going to switch out National Treasure for Tomb Raider, because while it’s not necessarily a better film, it’s a smarter one, and I couldn’t help but fall a little in love with it.

Alicia Vikander makes a star turn as Lara Croft, who goes on a search for her missing adventurer father (Dominic West). She teams up with Lu (Daniel Wu) to travel to a secret island off the coast of Japan to find him. This is Lara Croft’s origin story, showing the younger, less experienced Croft come into her own as the Tomb Raider. The film screams “franchise,” even setting up a sequel at the end, but it knows its strength, which is not the plot but the character the plot is based around. Even when I didn’t much care for what was going on in the film, Vikander’s Lara Croft had me hooked.

It adds another level of engagement and excitement when you can relate to the person on screen so deeply. Sure, I will never be Lara Croft, as much as I would like to be. But Vikander made me believe perhaps one day I can at least meet a Lara Croft-esque person that I can be friends with. The film, different from the original Angelina Jolie ones, is shot through the female gaze. This term does not mean the men in the film are treated badly, or that it is a feminist manifesto (it was even directed by a man with the manliness of names, Roar Uthaug). It simply means the film appeals to the female audience by not sexualizing the female characters and providing complex portrayals of characters that can enact female fantasies and escapism. And this worked wonders for my viewing; it was impossible for my friend and me not to spend the entire movie talking (and by talking I mean sparse whispering, as I am a courteous theater attendee) to the screen as if Lara were one of our friends.
“No, Lara, don’t go in there!”
“Punch him in the adam’s apple! YESSSS- my mom told me about that move.”
“Don’t let him talk down to you like that, Lara! Okay good, you’re escaping. Good call pal, good call.”
“I want to borrow your leather jacket. Where did you get it?”
“How… how do you get biceps like that? I can’t even do one pull-up.”
“Now that’s a nice guy, be friends with him!”

Lara Croft is a video game action heroine for sure. She does impossible stunts, survives insane injuries, and is perfectly film-suave. She doesn’t change much over the course of the film- she starts out independent, adventurous, and smart, and ends that way as well. But, there are a few details thrown into an otherwise pretty conventional film that both point to what possibly could have been, but also elevate it significantly.

There is clear attention to detail regarding how Lara could realistically take down men twice as strong as her, and the movie makes it clear how challenging that is. And when she does have her first kill in self-defense, she sits by the body and cries. It’s a stunning moment of humanity in a genre that rarely ever treats the villain body count as something to care about.

The film also takes the father-daughter storyline and elevates it by swelling to the emotional reunion- and then creating sophisticated conflict between the two that isn’t really satisfyingly resolved. The rest of the film is spent with the two in unease and heartache, and watching Lara wrestle with forgiving her father, and vice-versa, added a level of emotional resonance and maturity, even as Walton Goggins yelled about mummies and curses during the finale.

I could talk more about Tomb Raider’s flaws and how it is indicative of the origin-story- video-game-adventure genre overall, but honestly, I had a great time watching this film. If you like movies like National Treasure and Raiders of the Lost Ark– and you know who you are- then I really think you’ll enjoy this Tomb Raider. It’s a step in the right direction for the franchise which I hope will get a sequel, and I’m excited for Alicia Vikander to get to play this character again and get more roles in the future. Sometimes, fun movies can be fun, and Tomb Raider is just that.

-Madeleine D

Every year there is a film that blows up at a film festival. There is tremendous hype for it as it moves from the festival circuit to wide release. There is a wave of rave reviews, Oscar predictions, and the main actors start signing major deals. Sometimes the film rides to the Oscars and lives up to its hype. But more times than not, it disappears a few months later and becomes lost.

This year, the breakout star of the SXSW (South by Southwest) film festival was Edgar Wright (The Cornetto Trilogy, Scott Pilgrim Versus the World) with Baby Driver. Can the film about a getaway driver survive in a summer of superheroes, transformers, and minions?

Baby Driver tells the story of Baby (Ansel Elgort) a young man paying off a debt to crime boss Doc (played by Kevin Spacey). He is a getaway driver who uses music on his iPod to drown out a ringing he has in his ears from a childhood accident. When Baby meets Debora (Lily James) he decides he wants to get out of his line of work and run away with her. And he will, Doc assures him. He just has one last job.

Edgar Wright is a director known for directing. That sounds weird to say, but it’s true. A lot of directors helm fine movies and are good at orchestrating the production of a film. But when Wright directs, he directs. The film is his breathing, living organism. And that applies to Baby Driver. Every scene is handmade, every detail significant. It simply isn’t a film that could be made by anybody else. Because of that, Baby Driver radiates passion, and I love when a movie does that. The more it seems like the filmmaker was dying to make the movie, the more I’m dying to see it.

For those who are here for a particular actor, I’m happy to inform you everyone turns in good performances here. It’s an ensemble film, though, so it’s the energy and personality of all the actors together that make the film tick along.

Speaking of ticking along, a major selling point of the film is the soundtrack. Almost every scene is set to rock n’ roll, making it like a musical where nobody sings. While it sometimes dances towards the line of being a gimmick, it mostly gives the film a surreal quality.  It ends up serving the film well, and makes the crazy climax feel more grounded.

The best compliment I can give Baby Driver is that it is unique, and in a summer where there are a lot of movies that are retreading old ground, unique is refreshing. Edgar Wright has created something that is a complete blast while still being smart and thought-provoking. It made me want to run out to my car and drive  around with my favorite playlist.  Did I? You’ll never know. But try and tell me you don’t feel the same way when you see it.

-Madeleine D

The Magnificent Seven: the movie you kinda sorta knew was coming out, but really only went when you saw it had your favorite actors in it. In honor of its name, here are the seven things you need to know about this newest Western.

1. Story

This is a remake of the 1960 The Magnificent Seven, which in turn is a remake of Akira Kurosawa’s epic The Seven Samurai. I have not seen the original Magnificent Seven (I know, I know, sorry). However, the movie doesn’t stray far from that story.

The film starts with Bartholomew Bogue (Peter Sarsgaard), a baddy capitalist who burns down a church and kills a handful of men in the opening scene. Emma Cullen (Haley Bennett), the wife of a man who is killed, enlists Sam Chisolm (Denzel Washington, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cUVqTzvyudQ) and Josh Faraway (Chris Pratt) to gather a team of heroes who can stop Bogue.

2. Talent

Denzel Washington can do no wrong. The trailer for the upcoming film Fences (based on the play of the same title that Washington will be directing and starring in) played before this film, and reminded me of that fact. His Sam Chisolm is not necessarily a new type of hero, but is still a stoic one we can appreciate.

Chris Pratt plays Chris Pratt. I was hoping when he became a superstar, he would reveal a talent for playing interesting characters. Instead, he revealed that he has more abs than he does diverse roles. He still has time to show his acting chops, but right now he seems more than content to keep his blockbuster leading man image. If only that leading man was a little more interesting.

Ethan Hawke rivals Denzel Washington on the likeability factor here. He plays Goodnight Robicheaux (how can you lose with a name like that?) with finesse and passion. He makes the PTSD and guilt Goodnight feels real and adds some interest to an overdone story.

I wish I could say much about the rest of the cast. Haley Bennett does her best, but her job is mostly to be the 7th member of the party stand-in until the boys can all get there. Her role is similar to Hailee Steinfeld’s from 2010’s True Grit, and it isn’t near as interesting. And the other guys? Well, try to remember their names after you’ve left the theater.

3. Diversity

This film caught a lot of people’s eye by showing off its diversity. Directed by Antoine Fuqua (Training Day), starring Denzel Washington, with three other men of color in the leading roles. And I applaud that diversity. That said, the film tries to have its cake and eat it, too. It could be said that the story takes place in an alternative universe where all these types of men could get along in the Wild West (which, historically, they were all definitely present in). But then it doesn’t make sense when characters say racist things to each other. But if it had taken place in the real Wild West, these men almost definitely wouldn’t have gotten along so easily.

As for the characters themselves, it’s cool that the lesser-known actors of color get a time to shine in complex, original roles. As long as you forget about the stereotypes, like the Indian who eats the raw hearts of animals, or the Asian guy who is basically a quiet but deadly ninja, or the Mexican who… Well, he doesn’t really do anything. Or the fact that the confederate soldier and the black man get along just dandy.  Or that the only woman is practically prostituted by the men around her and her role is nudged out of the film quickly to make way for the heroes. But yeah progress! Now earn that title, movie.

4. Style

A big part of Westerns is the distinct style. You need a bar scene, a horse scene, a sitting around the campfire scene. All of these elements are here. If those scenes are your jam, especially when they are stripped of soul and heart, then you’ll be happy.

The whole film is obsessed with style. I didn’t keep count, but I feel like fifty would be a modest number for the number of times the camera panned from Denzel Washington’s hand to gun to face to a slow motion walk. The violence might be gory, but these men are still stars, dang it! They’re the western Avengers, and everyone knows you can’t fight outlaws without looking hot.

But with the over-stylization comes some positives.  The score and cinematography are gorgeous. The soundtrack livens up formulaic scenes and adds intensity to scenes where you wouldn’t otherwise feel the emotion. The cinematography has the same effect.

5. Making a Western

It’s difficult to change the Western formula, save for location change (Star Wars is an example- a Western in space). It is admittedly not one of my favorite genres for this reason. The Magnificent Seven doesn’t do a whole lot for changing the modern Western, save for its casting. However, there is no shame in making a solid genre film. The thing that struck me throughout the movie was the lack of a message. There is some religious talk. People muse over revenge and righteousness. But in the end, if the villain is just a mean capitalist (because heaven forbid we have villains that aren’t aliens, nazis, or rich people) and the only way to get rid of him is to brutally murder his army of men and destroy a town, so what? The movie doesn’t have much of a message. That’s the biggest crime of them all.

6.  Locations

While the town the film is set in is your generic Western town, the fact that the film was shot on location makes a big difference. The setting feels real and lived in. The gorgeous natural beauty of New Mexico, Louisiana, and Arizona, the main places they shot, add to the aesthetic of the film. After seeing a lot of films that were shot on sound stages or with CGI, the authenticity of The Magnificent Seven is appreciated.

7. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sorry, I got nothing. See how hard it is to have 7 focal points? That’s what the movie suffers from.

The Magnificent Seven comes down to this: If this isn’t your type of film, it won’t be very appealing. If it’s your kind of film, you will probably enjoy it, though I doubt it will be high on your list of favorites. A remake that doesn’t have a new message, or even a solid one at all, doesn’t seem like a remake worthy of anyone’s time. There is only so much enjoyment you can get out of actors running around in nice locations to a cool score before the emptiness of it appears

-Madeleine D