Director Report Card: Chloe Zhao (2021)

4. Eternals

When the rumors started to circulate a few years back, that Marvel Studios were pursuing a film adaptation of the Eternals, a lot of people reacted with one question: “What the fuck are the Eternals?” A group of characters created by Jack Kirby upon returning to Marvel in 1970, the team has never been especially popular or beloved. In fact, many see it as a watered-down version of the New Gods mythos Kirby created at DC Comics. Nevertheless, the unstoppable studio went full steam ahead with the project. Once Chloe Zhao, who was only a hotly coveted up-and-comer at the time and not yet an Academy Award winner, became attached, "Eternals" became more intriguing. What was it about this particular team that attracted someone from the art house set to make the leap to mega-budget, superhero filmmaking? Now that the film has been out about a month, this is a question people are still trying to answer. 

5000 years ago, the Celestials — god-like cosmic entities with the ability to create life — would make a team of ten immortal, superpowered individuals and send them to Earth. These Eternals had one mission: To protect humanity from a race of destructive monsters known as Deviants. The last Deviant was exterminated in the 1500s and the team has gone their separate ways since then. In England, Eternals Sersi and Sprite are attacked by a new Deviant. They are protected by Ikaris, the most powerful Eternal. The decision is made to reassemble the team, especially once it's discovered that Ajak — the Eternal with a direct line to the Celestial Arishem — has been murdered. Ikaris and Sersi travel the globe to find their old teammates again, while continuing to struggle against the Deviants and their centuries of regrets. Soon, secrets and alliances are revealed. 

On a narrative level, "Eternals" takes the Marvel Cinematic Universe to a cosmic level that hasn't previously been seen. The film depicts nothing less than the origins of the entire universe and tracks 7000 years of human history. The towering Celestials created galaxies and seed them with life, providing this superhero universe with its own creation myth. A story of this scope certainly provides more than a few eye-popping visuals. Such as Sersi being summoned before the massive face of the planet sized Arishem. Or the winding, bio-mechanical interiors of an elaborate "World Engine." Even the sight of the Eternals' triangular ship, the Domo, is a little weirder and more far-out than what we've come to expect from the MCU. 

Yet "Eternals" has a serious issue: I don't give a shit about the Eternals. I don't just mean the comic books the characters appeared in or the legacies they hold as Marvel heroes. In the film, the Eternals are godly entities that are apart from, and above, humanity. They are millions of years old and operate on behalf of cosmic entities beyond human comprehension. The movie tells us over and over again that the Eternals, Sersi especially, love humanity. That they've come to value and adore the human animal over their 7000 year stay on the planet. The movie tells us this but doesn't really show it. Instead, the film devotes much of its runtime to these god-like titans bickering among themselves, about their purposes and goals. It feels a bit, at times, like you are watching a grand, intergalactic soap opera that never takes its time to make us actually care about its larger-than-life mythic heroes.

"Eternals" pays lip service to how much its heroes love the human race and wish to protect them from annihilation. Yet the evidence seems to suggest otherwise. The Celestials designed the titular team only to exterminate Deviants. This precluded them from intervening in all the wars and genocides that have happened over Earthly history, for some reason. Arishem doesn't seem to give a shit about them doing other stuff on Earth or interacting with humans on a personal level but the script reiterates this rule over and over again. It's an awkward attempt to justify why the Marvel universe is just now finding out about these immortal beings, why they did nothing to stop Thanos or any of the other planet-threatening villains in past movies. 

Yet even this writing is not as awkward as the movie's attempts to portray this conflict. That involves the heroes mostly standing back and arguing amongst themselves while the Spaniards raze Tenochtitlan and massacre its residents. This is not a good way to depict how your heroes love humanity! Even this moment is not the film's clumsiest attempt to fuse superhero shenanigans with historical atrocities. That comes when the bombing of Hiroshima is depicted as making Phastos, the Eternals' genius engineer and inventor, abandon his cause. Depicting the real world annihilation of 70,000 people only in the context of how it makes a comic book character feel is insensitive, to say the least. Ya know, maybe a story of superpowered action figures is not the place to address such heavy topics. 

The film's inability to actually convince us that the Eternals love people as much as they claim they do is not the only example of telling and not showing here. From the moment they met, Sersi and Ikaris felt attracted to each other. In the shadows of Babylon, they finally admit their love for each other. They have a symbolic wedding of sorts and even consummate their union, in what is the MCU's first actual sex scene. And yet we never see how much these two supposedly care about each other. Their eons-spanning love is limited to a few terse conversations. This is not the only love story the movie belly flops on either. Later, we learn another Eternal has an unrequited crush on Ikaris. We are informed of this totally through dialogue. When it starts to affect the story, it is the movie's most unnatural moment, the characters clumsily bending along with what the narrative tells them to do.

"Eternals" is so concerned with the overwrought, but strangely lifeless, interpersonal affairs of these immortal assholes that it barely functions as satisfying superhero spectacle. Take a look at the Eternals' century spanning rivalry with the Deviants. Within the realm of underwhelming Marvel movie villains, these guys have to rank among the least interesting. They are big CGI monsters that rampage and attack but have no individuality. Eventually, one of the Deviants evolves into a more humanoid form and is given voice by Bill Skarsgard. (Though I don't know why Marvel got a well-known actor for a role anyone could have played.) This is a too-little, too-late attempt to make us care about this conflict. That's right before the movie itself admits the Deviants are only a plot device to bring the Eternals to Earth. Even after that reveal, the film continues to prolong this subplot, when more important things are happening at the exact same time. 

"Eternals" proves most interesting when it abandons the world-shaking conflicts all together. The story is most compelling when it asks the question of "what do you do when you've been alive for 10,000 years?" The super-strong Gilgamesh, when robbed of monsters to punch, becomes a gourmet chef. He also sees after Thena, who has developed superhero Alzheimer's. Laser-blasting Kingo becomes a Bollywood movie star, pretending to be his own child every generation and creating an acting lineage that begins in the silent era and extends into the modern day. Druig starts a commune in the Amazon, Ajak retires to a ranch in the mid-west, Phastos falls in love and raises a son, and Sersi teaches history. The idea of immortals walking among us, trying to add meaning to their endless lives, is the film's most intriguing element. (And one doubtlessly beholden to "Highlander," which Zhao pays homage to with a similar opening scroll.) 

One can't help but imagine a low-key version of "Eternals" focused entirely on that idea. I bet that would be a pretty good Chloe Zhao movie. Any time an indie darling like Zhao makes the leap to big budget superhero movies like this, you always wonder how much of their individual style will survive the studio scrutiny. If nothing else, Zhao's visual trademarks put in token appearances. There's plenty of shots of sunrises breaking over sweeping landscapes, the actors frequently posing in front of them. There's even a strange beauty to some of the shots, like a Deviant being twisted into a tree-like structure. You don't see much of Zhao in the action sequences, which attempt to marry the gritty intimacy of her earlier films with CGI mayhem. The result just feels weirdly framed and oddly unexciting.

"Eternals" did present an interesting opportunity. Much like "Guardians of the Galaxy," the comic book Eternals are a group of characters with few die hard fans and zero preconceived notions in the public's consciousness. The movie can bend genders, ethnicities, and orientation and nobody would care. Even a pretty big nerd like me knew little about them, beyond the alien Eternals inspiring the legendary heroes of Earthly legend. (Which was another manifestation of Jack Kirby's lifelong fascination with mythology.) I wish the movie did more with that. We get a few mentions of how the Eternals' antics over the years inspired ancient stories. Otherwise, the movie is more preoccupied with slotting its characters into easily understood superhero archetypes. Ikaris has abilities similar to Superman. Mikkari is a Flash-like speedster. Druig can control minds, Ajak can heal wounds, Phastos is a master inventor, and Sprite can cast illusions. Only Sersi's ability to change the molecular properties of matter is especially novel. Some of the powers, like Thena generating her own weapons, feels specialized to the point of being impractical. 

When you have a group of characters defined more by their superpowers than their personalities, it's really up to the cast to make them memorable. This approach yields mixed results. Newly swole Kumail Nanjiana largely steals the show as Kingo, being this largely humorless movie's main source of comic relief. Nanjiana's way with a zinger makes a running gag, about Kingo making a documentary about his immortal friends, into a highlight of the film. Bryan Tyree Henry also adds some humanity to the nerdy and sometimes neurotic Phastos. "Train to Busan's" Ma Dong-Seok gets a couple of bright moments as Gilgamesh and Angelina Jolie acquaints herself well when Thena is swinging a sword or acting traumatized. 

Yet not every cast member shines. Gemma Chan, making her second appearance in the MCU, does her best to make Sersi the heart and soul of the movie. She's often swallowed by the story's cosmic melodrama. This is also true of Barry Keoghan as Druig, who shows some spark when he's not saddled with weighty dialogue about cosmic matters. If nothing else, he has good chemistry with Laura Ridloff as Makkari. Salma Hayek's Ajak also does little beside deliver exposition, giving the star few chances to shine. I really wanted to like Lia McHugh as Sprite but the script builds the character's entire emotional arc into a two scenes, leaving the clearly talent McHugh little to work with. And then there's Richard Madden as Ikaris, a man who has the superheroics build but not an ounce of screen presence to back it up. 

Ultimately, so much of "Eternals" feels miscalculated. It asks us to be invested in a group of characters few people are familiar with while keeping most of them emotionally distant from us. For Zhao, a filmmaker so good at getting naturalistic performances out of non-actors, whose work is so motivated by an empathetic drive to tell people's stories, it's strange that she isn't able to find much humanity or pathos in these cosmic beings. The result has led to a mixed reaction among audiences and box office grossed that are probably below Marvel's expectations. Which makes the cliffhanger ending and dense post-credit teasers — both of which expect us to get excited about stuff we barely understand — seem overly optimistic. Where "Eternals" will end up residing, both within the trajectory of Zhao's career and the Marvel Cinematic Universe, remains to be seen. Yet it's still among the studio's least satisfying works, a film that covers an ocean of history but never finds much heart there. [Grade: C]

RECENT WATCHES: Blood Rage (1987)

Halloween has a dozen “Halloween” movies and a hundred 31st-set horror films that do not feature Michael Myers. Christmas has “Silent Night, Deadly Night” and countless other pictures that combine ghoulishness with holiday cheer. Where is the Thanksgiving slasher movie? Of course, real motherfuckers know that Thanksgiving slashers have been under our noses the entire time. “Blood Rage” was filmed in 1984 and unreleased until 1987. It would then suffer through several different new titles, the level of gore varying in each cut. The film was obscure, unknown to all but the most fanatical slash-heads, until Arrow gave it a fancy Blu-Ray release with all the bells and whistles in 2015. Since then, “Blood Rage” has started to fill the Thanksgiving-slasher-shaped hole in the hearts horror nerds the world over. 

In 1974, Maddy takes her new boyfriend and her identical twin sons, Terry and Todd, to the drive-in movie theater. While she's making out with the boyfriend, the boys sneak off. Terry hacks a necking couple to death and pins the crime on Todd. A decade later, the institutionalized Todd is just now beginning to remember what happened that night. Terry, meanwhile, has carried on a charmed life, becoming a star athlete at school and winning friends and a girlfriend. Convinced of his innocence, Todd escapes the mental hospital on Thanksgiving Day. Spurned by his brother's escape, and her mother becoming engaged to a new boyfriend, Terry begins to kill again. An apartment full of partying teens is caught in the middle.

One of the alternate titles “Blood Rage” circulated under throughout the years was “The Nightmare at Shadow Woods.” (Shadow Woods being the Jacksonville, Florida apartment complex the movie is set in.) This cut removed all the gore from the movie. Which must've made “Blood Rage's” already short 82 minute run time even briefer. “Blood Rage” is fantastically gory. Terry uses his machete to hack off hands and heads. He cleaves faces in two, stabs jugular veins, and slices whole bodies in half. The graphic latex butchery is paired with a sick sense of humor. Terry grins and chuckles all throughout the bloodshed, often mocking his victims in death by using their bodies as crude puppets.

The wacky gore effects aren't the only reason that “Blood Rage” has endeared itself to slasher fans all over. The movie really doesn't have much in the way of story, outside of its evil twin premise. The apartment complex setting is a clever way to introduce a whole flock of characters, the majority of which exist solely to pad out the body count. We get a couple of medical professionals, a crew of rowdy teens, and a handful of other characters that all get slashed through. None of them are especially distinct but there's something to be said for a slasher flick not getting in its own way too much. “Blood Rage” is here to deliver the butchery and it knows it, giving the fodder just enough personality that you don't mind spending a little time with them before the blade comes down. (The movie also has a higher-than-average amount of sex and nudity, surely making the exploitation mix even sweeter.)

“Blood Rage” being reclaimed as the premiere Thanksgiving slasher flick is a bit surprising. The movie features none of the colorful iconography you associate with the holiday. Terry does not don a pilgrim's hat nor a turkey outfit as he begins his slaughter. Only one sequence is set around the dinner table. Yet “Blood Rage” ends up embodying the anxieties of the holiday anyway. The unspoken tension in the family drives the plot. Terry's resentment of his brother and the unresolved lust between him and his mother is what forces him to kill. The awkwardness of Thanksgiving dinner, where mom announces her engagement, is all too evident. It's only a small part of the movie but the themes of familial drama fit right in with everyone's common Thanksgiving ritual. There's also a running gag about cranberry sauce, which is mildly amusing. 

Ultimately, what makes “Blood Rage” a campy delight is a pair – or is it a trio? – of wonderfully unhinged performances. Louise Lasser plays Maddy as a woman perpetually on-edge. She barely seems in-control of her emotions to begin with. After the news of Todd's escape, she starts to shovel cold Thanksgiving leftovers in her face. She chugs wine while doing some night vacuuming. Before the end, she's reduces to wailing in anguish into the phone while wearing only a bathrobe. It's a histrionic performance of epic proportions, Lasser going way beyond the limits of good taste to bring the cracked-up mother to life. 

Mark Soper, in the dual role of Todd and Terry, is similarly overcooked. He plays Terry as a perpetually grinning sociopath, who is perfectly content as long as he's getting his way. Todd, meanwhile, is a bundle of neurosis that leave him borderline catatonic. Soper is not a polished actor, though that ends up adding to the charm a bit, but he still convincingly creates two separate characters mostly through his body language. (Though the hair and make-up team helped a little, as Todd's hair is messy and Terry's is perfectly coiffed.)

Powered by a propulsive electronic score from Richard Einhorn, “Blood Rage” manages to be consistently entertaining for the short amount of time it takes you to watch it. The direction is pretty flat, most of the acting and characters are not especially nuanced, and the script doesn't always make a lot of sense. Yet it all blends together into an appealingly goofy and bloody mix. With enough T&A and gory special effects to keep you hooked during the more tedious bits, I'm happy that more fans have discovered this one. Until Eli Roth finally makes “Thanksgiving,” or at least until “Home Sweet Home” or “Blood Freak” get high profile Blu-Ray re-releases, I'm more than happy for this to be most people's go-to Thanksgiving set horror flick. [7/10]

Series Report Card: Disney Animated Features (2021) - Part One

58. Raya and the Last Dragon

I am, and I suppose always will be, a fan of when Disney puts its own stamp on classic fairy tales or stories. I grew up on the Disney Renaissance, so I guess it’s a nostalgic connection for me. Disney has mostly stuck to more modern stories in recent times, with "Frozen" and "Moana" merely taking inspiration from classic stories and folklore. The same is true of their most recent attempt to create a new Disney Princess. "Raya and the Last Dragon" is inspired by the culture and mythology of Southeast Asia, such as Thailand and Vietnam. Whether this is progressive pop culture representation or a mega-corp cynically looking for a new market to exploit is, ya know, up for debate. Either way, I think it's sort of neat that the world's leading animation studio continues to find ways to blend new stories with older traditions. 

The setting for our story is Kumundra, a collection of countries that used to be united under the rule of benevolent dragons. Following the appearance of soul-sucking monsters called Druun, the dragons would sacrifice themselves to save the world. Their remaining power was sealed inside the Dragon Gem, which the nations have warred over for years. During an attempt to foster peace by Chief Benja, ruler of the nation of Heart, the gem would be shattered. The Druun were released and Kumundra plunged into chaos. Five years later, Benja's daughter Raya travels Kumundra to gather the pieces of the Gem and restore the world. Along the way, she resurrects Sisu, the last of the dragons. 

Like I said, "Raya and the Last Dragon" is a new story by Disney, created by its writers, directors, and animators. Yet the film feels a lot like an adaptation of a long-running series of books or manga... One of those adaptations that tries to squeeze the entire story into one movie. From the beginning, the film is overwhelming the viewer with exposition. The history of Kumundra, the Druun, and the dragons is dropped on us through an info-heavy, opening montage. The film then goes into an extensive flashback, setting up Raya's role in all this, her personal connection to the latest apocalypse, and the rivalry between the different nations. It's a lot of world-building to do right out of the gate. Maybe if the audience needs to know this much backstory before you can even tell the story we're here to see, you should've just told a different story. 

And yet, the film's front loading with a ton of exposition and lore is not it's most distracting aspect. With "Raya and the Last Dragon," Disney had a chance to create their own fantasy universe, akin to Middle-earth or Narnia. Any attempt to transport the viewer to another world is often undermined by the movie filling every characters' mouth with snarky, sub-Whedon-esque dialogue. There are references to modern pop culture, with mentions of cat ladies and popping-and-locking. People make fun of the Marvel movies, for taking the suspense out of their action scenes with constant sarcastic dialogue. But "Raya" is a movie where that actually happens, the viewer's immersion in this fantasy world being broken by someone saying "boom goes the dynamite."

The movie's comic relief is often distracting. Did the pickpocket baby character really need to weaponize its diaper at one point? No source of humor in the movie is more distracting than Sisu herself. Awkwafina's gravelly voice is a non-stop source of half-baked jokes and quibs. It takes the purpose of characters like Genie or Mushu, an energetic and lovable sidekick for the hero to bounce off of, to its outermost extreme. Raya is the straight man, Sisu is the never-ending jokester, and the movie hammers that note as hard as possible. What should've been the movie's most endearing character — who doesn't love a dragon? — instead nearly destroys it. 

Walt Disney Animation Studio taking inspiration from its sibling Marvel Studios does provide some novelty to "Raya." This is an animated fantasy for kids that also happens to be an action movie. Not just any action movie but a martial arts movie. You can tell the animators did their research to, as each nation is given a different style of melee combat. Muay Thai, pencak Silat, and eskrima are utilized throughout. When Raya has to come to blows with her rival, arrogant warrior Princess Namaari, the fights are actually pretty well done. That's not something you expect to see in a Disney movie, especially one of their big budget cartoons. So that's pretty cool. 

Still, every step forward that "Raya" takes is another step back as well. Ultimately, the film is defined by the theme of different cultures and people putting aside their differences to work together for a greater good. This is represented by Kumundra being made up of nations named for different parts of a dragon. You also see it in the visual symbolism of Raya assembling a broken gem or the way she collects a new friend from other segment of the continent. The movie really focuses on this idea during its climax, where everyone works together against a hopeless situation. "Raya and the Last Dragon" is very much a motion picture about unity in the face of global catastrophe. (Which, weirdly, makes it an ideal story to tell in our modern age.)

It never quite works though. That's simply because we never really care about the different characters. Raya gathers multiple sidekicks over the course of the story, from shrimp boat cook Boun, to burly tough guy Tong, to the aforementioned con-baby. And that's in addition to the adorable animal sidekick she starts the movie off with, the pill bug like Tuk-Tuk. "Raya" is long for an animated movie, running close to two hours. Yet even all that time isn't enough to develop all of these characters in a meaningful way. Instead, they remain as vague ideas, easily understood gimmicks that never develop any real depth. This makes the idea of them coming together to work for a better tomorrow hard to take seriously. Once again, it makes the movie feel like the condensed version of a bigger, longer story. 

The movie tries. All the characters are united by having lost a loved one to the Druun. Raya is haunted by the loss of her dad, Sisu by the loss of her dragon siblings. Boun and the baby's parents are gone. It's heavily implied that Tong lost his own family. In its best moments, "The Last Dragon"  slows down and allows its characters to just hang out together. This often happens — in what is yet another metaphor for disparate ingredients working together in harmony — around the dinner table. A scene of Tong revealing the baby's name while everyone chats is one of the highlights of the movie. So is a comedic scene where Sisu distracts a whimsical solution to their current dilemma. The movie can't make its cast come to life but it's still works best when suggesting that might be possible. 

As "Raya" goes on, the stakes get higher and the scenario gets grimmer. The seeming death of a major character is when the film reaches its darkest point, the Druun becoming even more unstoppable than before. But what about the Druun? The best Disney Animated Features have colorful, unforgettable villains. This is something "Raya and the Last Dragon" completely lacks. The Druun have no personality. They are clouds of amorphous, purple mist that turn people to stone. They are warded off by water and the power of the Dragon Gem but otherwise show no attributes. I'd compare them to zombies but even zombies are more distinct than this. Namaari is the story's human antagonist and, even though she's debatably the film's most complex character, she still doesn't rise to the levels we expect from colorful Disney villains. The lack of a real antagonist leaves “Raya” feeling directionless at times.

It's not really the fault of the voice cast. Even Awkwafina, distracting as her humor is, does a decent job playing Sisu. The dragon's quieter moments aren't bad. Everyone does their best. Kelly Marie Tran is solid as Raya. Daniel Dae Kim gets some cute moments as her dad. Benedict Wong – who has quickly become one of the best character actors in the modern Disney pantheon –  probably gives my favorite performance as Tong, a blustery tough guy with a secret soft spot. Sandra Oh has some nice sinister energy as Namaari's deceptive mother, who still has a good reason for what she does. If the movie had been smarter, she would've been developed into the villain. 

Of course, the movie is gorgeous too. The misty rain forests and softly babbling streams look beautiful. Several fantasy sequences feature even more stylized action sequences, the colors and eye-popping visuals getting cranked up even more. As the story progresses, Sisu gains the various powers of her dragon siblings. This results in striking sequences, such as when she goes stepping through the air on platforms made from raindrops. You can criticized the sameness of the Disney house style, when it comes to character designs. I too prefer the quirkier prototype version of Sisu. But the massive animation team still are capable of creating beautiful motion pictures.

”Raya and the Last Dragon” was, of course, originally intended for release in 2020. The pandemic would hit while the movie was late in production, forcing the film to be finished remotely. When it was finally released, back in March, theaters were only just starting to open up again. This meant to movie itself was largely overshadowed by Disney's controversial decision to give a same-day-and-date release on their streaming service, at an additional cost. (Alongside the usual controversies that arise anytime a giant movie studio attempts to tell a story in a different cultural landscape.) Maybe if “Raya” had been a better movie, it would've been able to overcome this discussion and stand on its own. Instead, the movie did just okay at the box office and the merchandise didn't seem to fly off the shelves, in my experience. In some ways a bold experiment, “Raya and the Last Dragon” is also a disappointing attempt at trying something new. [Grade: C+]

Director Report Card: Larry Fessenden (2021)

7. Isolation

About a year ago, in my review of “Host,” I pointed out how the pandemic era of horror film-making had already started. In the months since Rob Savage released his “directed-over-Zoom” ghost thriller, several other independent horror projects also made in-secret during the early days of the pandemic have come out. Those would be new movies from high-profile filmmakers Ben Wheatley and Neill Blomkamp... As well as a third example. Unlike the others, “Isolation” is an anthology film, presenting nine stories from twelve different directors. “Isolation” would also distinguish itself from the other pandemic inspired projects by literally being about the pandemic. Among the directors invited to join “Isolation” was Larry Fessenden, whose involvement always gets me interested in a project. 

“Isolation” is a little different from your usual horror anthology in a big way. Instead of its stories being totally self-contained, they are all set in the same world. (A few of the stories even directly connect.) It's a world where a highly contagious, airborne virus has swept across the globe. COVID-19 or Corona Virus are not specifically mentioned by name. In fact,  the virus of “Isolation” seems to mutate far faster than its real world equivalent, leading to far more extensive society-wide breakdown then we've experienced. (So far, anyway.) Despite being fictionalized, most of the details — feverish symptoms, people wearing masks in public, abandoned city streets — are the same. Either way, it's a decent premise for an anthology film. And, I suppose, a fictional approach  is a bit more tactful than making a horror movie about our actual pandemic would be. 

The nine stories are as follows: “Fever” concerns a feverish man who takes an unorthodox approach to keeping his family safe. “5G” follows a conspiracy theorist who hears a voice telling him to take direct action against the cell towers he believes are spreading the virus. “The Dread” is about a married couple, whose home is broken into by an intruder. “Pacific Northwest” tracks a pair of young children, who have to fend for themselves when their parents die. “Meat Hands” has a lonely young man forming a bond with the dead body on his front lawn. “It's Inside” is about a different conspiracy theorist, who fears the government has infiltrated her home and her body. “Gust” shows a woman who is afraid of the air around her. “Homebodies” sees an investigative journalist, tasked with getting new stories about the pandemic, sneaking into the home of a reclusive family. Lastly, the protagonist of “Comfort Zone” is a young woman inside a shipping container, infected with the virus, communicating with a man on the outside. 

Larry Fessenden does double duty on "Fever," as he both directs and stars in it. (Maybe triple duty, as he contributes a song as well.) The segment starts out intriguing enough, taking us right inside the head of a man infected with the virus. Fessenden's narration speaks of feeling guilty over catching the virus, despite being extra careful, which seems like a realistic emotion to explore. The hallucinations that follow his feverish state — seeing his wife and son jerkily move around the bedroom — are interesting. Fessenden engineers more of these surreal sights in the last half. Yet "Fever's" horror content is abrupt, a shocking act of violence being included halfway through and never quite followed up on. Ultimately, the segment feels like a half-formed sketch, instead of a fully realized story. 

"5G" comes to us from Andrew Kasch, who previously directed "This Means War," one of the best segments in "Tales of Halloween." This short also has a strong start. There's some amusing irony in a house arrest bracelet being the source of a voice, badgering a conspiracy theorist to get more paranoid. Yet it's disappointing that "5G" never attempts to address the reason why people believe these things. Considering the segment ends in a blunt, violent manner, I'm inclined to think the whole thing is a sick joke. That it's about an asshole getting what's coming to him. If that's the case, it's never exactly funny. Graham Denman is also a bit flat as the main character.

The third episode of "Isolation" is probably its weakest. "The Dread" both stars and was directed by Dennie Gordon, whose previous movies include "Joe Dirt," "What a Girl Wants," and "New York Minute." Presumably she was selected to participate in this anthology, not because of her features, but because of her work on TV shows like "Legion" and "Waco." Anyway, it's an almost plotless story largely devoted to Gordon wandering around an apartment, stalked by an unseen man. There's not much tension or dread in the proceedings. We never learn anything about the woman, so it's hard to care too much about what happens to her. It has a baffling ending that seems to be a twist of some sort but is so vague that I don't totally understand it. 

Luckily, "Isolation" starts to improve after three lackluster segments. "Pacific Northwest" was made by Bobby Roe, the man behind the "Houses October Built" films. There's something deeply sad about its premise, of two children left totally alone following the death of their parents. The characters are played by Roe's actual children. Their naturalistic performances, which I suspect were largely improvised, are convincing. The kids are totally vulnerable, of course, which allows a grim tension to slowly built. Roe smartly drags the suspense out later on, as the kids have some close calls with home invaders. Roe's documentary style direction is a bit distracting at times but this is still the first segment in the film that really works.

The fifth story, "Meat Hands," comes from Adam R. Brown and Kyle I. Kelley, who have made some shorts I have not seen. This one really focuses on the idea of isolation, as it's largely quiet protagonist — played by Brown — is totally alone in his house. The title comes from his habit of filling a glove with ground meat and heating it up, just so he can feel something like the touch of another person. There's a real sense of sadness as we watch him get sicker, coughing and vomiting more. The lack of music, use of background noise, and tendency to frame its main character in wider shots adds extends this feeling of loneliness. It's easy to predict where this is going, from the minute the dead body outside appears, but it's still an effective short.

"It's Inside" is directed by Kier Siewert and Alix Austin, the team behind "Retch," a solid short that combined visceral body horror with dark humor. Their contribution here does much the same. The back half of this one features some seriously cringe-inducing gore, that continues to escalate in severity. There's also some effective jump scares, as the paranoid fantasy of home invaders in invisibility-granting suits come to life. "It's Inside" also looks pretty good, utilizing shadows and sickly, neon colors in interesting ways. Austin herself plays the conspiracy theorist and is equally unhinged and pathetic. Overall, I liked how this one gets bigger and crazier as it goes on. It's probably my favorite segment in the film. 

The seventh segment, "Gust," is also pretty good. It was made by Zach Passero, who previously directed "Wicked Lake" and has worked as an editor, animator, and effects artist on multiple Lucky McKee productions. Much like “Meat Hands,” “Gust” focuses on the sense of isolation its protagonist — an unnamed woman — feels. While the previous character was dealing with loneliness, she's dealing with fear. The wind constantly hammering at her home makes it feel like this airborne disease is coming for her. Is it paranoia or a serious concern? The final image of the segment, which hits like the punchline of a cruel joke, makes the answer clear. The sound design is excellent and makes the threat of the blustery air appropriately felt. Drone shots of the empty city streets are utilized to further chilling effect. “Gust” is another highlight of the film.

Alexandre Neary, whose short “The Teddy Bear's Picnic” was memorably grisly, directs “Homebodies.” This one is done in the found footage style, bringing the “V/H/S” series to mind. The idea of exploring a dark, creepy house full of some shocking surprises does make for a decent scare or two. The found footage format is good for stories like this, for putting the audience right in the main character's shoes. What arcane things are going on inside the rich family's home is not made explicitly clear, which is a bit frustrating. Though there is some nasty gore here. The newscaster character that motivates the plot is unnecessarily obnoxious. “Homebodies” functions decently enough, though I doubt I'll remember anything about it in a day or two. 

“Isolation” concludes with “Comfort Zone,” the only non-English language segment. It comes from German director Christian Pasquariello, whose has made a number of shorts and a feature called “Alien Invasion: S.U.M.1.” “Comfort Zone” represents the film in its most low-key mode, as it's really not much than a conversation between two people. The huge, hollow shipping container makes a decently spooky setting. Fine Belger gives a likable performance as Eva, the girl inside the crate. The ending doesn't have the impact I think the filmmakers were hoping for though. It gives all of “Isolation” something of an underwhelming ending.

“Isolation” will probably be most valuable as a weirdo snapshot of the early days of the pandemic, reflecting the thoughts and fears of filmmakers during that time. Taken as art itself, it's trickier to recommend. Horror anthologies tend to be uneven affairs. This is just a given, considering the format of multiple stories being squished together. “Isolation” is definitely among the more uneven ones I've seen recently. The quality of the segments vary between pretty good to feeling unfinished. And for Larry Fessenden completest, it's likely to be remembered more as a footnote than a major work. [Grade: C+]

Director Report Card: Alexandre Aja (2021)

9. Oxygen

There's this term – I don't know if it's a phrase that has catch on yet – for a type of horror/thriller that is largely set within one, usually very small location. I call these “confined space thrillers.” I know, it's not the catchiest name. A while ago, there was a minor wave of these movies. Thrillers were set in all sort of unlikely locations, like a phone booth, an ATM area, a shuttle bus, a sauna, a swimming pool, a bathroom stall, a car, a ski lift, an elevator and, of course, a coffin. I guess Hitchcock's “Lifeboat” is the granddaddy of this mini-genre. Alexandre Aja's previous film, “Crawl,” already sort of fit in with this premise, being mostly set in a flooded basement. For his next movie, Aja decided to set a story in an even more confined space. “Oxygen,” which largely takes place within a cryogenic chamber, would premiere on Netflix earlier this year.

She awakens, alone and terrified. She is trapped inside a space that is just big enough to hold her, with no memory of her name or even how she got there. Soon, the woman discovers that she is trapped inside a cryogenic chamber. Worst yet, she only has about ninety minutes before she runs out of oxygen and suffocates to death. An on-board A.I., known as MILO, is her only means of contacting the outside world. Memories drift back and the woman soon realizes her name is Elizabeth Hanson, a well-known scientist with a husband and a mother. She rushes to uncover more of her past, figure out how she got into this space, and whether or not she can survive it.

“Oxygen” – which is known as simply “O2” in its native France – certainly has a hell of a premise. The idea of waking up inside a box, with only enough room to wiggle back and forth a little, is a terrifying thought. Since the film's character purposely begins as a blank, it's very easy for the viewer to imagine themselves in this same frightening scenario. This claustrophobic set-up is paired with an aggressively ticking clock. Every time Elizabeth talks, she uses up a little bit more air. She has a set amount of time before she completely runs out, the movie playing out more-or-less in real time. The combination of ideas creates a premise potentially rich with suspense.

Of course, there's a reason people don't attempt to make more movies with such limited settings. It's really hard to keep a story going when one person stuck inside a seven foot long box is the entire movie. “Oxygen” has to think up a number of solutions to the challenges its premise presents. The first of which is that Elizabeth is not really alone in her chamber. She may be the only character on-screen, for most of the movie, but she's far from the only one in the movie. MILO, visualized as a pulsating electric circle and voiced by a fittingly robotic Mathieu Amalric, is her constant companion. The computer also provides a way for Liz to contact the police and other authorities, though this is frequently made difficult by poor signal connections. 

If giving our protagonist a robot to talk to already feels like “Oxygen” is cheating a little with its own premise, it's not the last time it does this. As Elizabeth works hard to jog her own memory, the film often segues into flashbacks. Yes, the movie all about someone being trapped inside a box frequently goes outside that box via the power of the mind. She gets flashes of the laboratory she worked in or the home life with her husband. This naturally fleshes out both the character and the story. Yet it does feel a little bit like “Oxygen” is going out of its way to violate the very gimmick the entire movie is built around. 

Another challenge that confined space thrillers often have to deal with is justifying why someone is stuck in such a tiny area. It's usually because they're pursued by some outside force or trapped due to a disaster scenario. “Oxygen” goes the latter route. If the presence of an advanced A.I. with all sorts of communicative abilities didn't clue you in, this is also a science fiction film. As the film goes on, and we learn more about the exact circumstance Elizabeth is in, increasingly outlandish plot twists are revealed. All the marketing made “Oxygen” seem like a fairly grounded story, so I was caught off-guard by these turns. In fact, I couldn't help but feel like the movie starts to get a little silly the more far-out it becomes. 

Like the similarly preposterous “Crawl,” that silliness sometimes works in “Oxygen's” favor. The movie's growing absurdity can be surprising, or even fun at times. In its best moments, the film is genuinely suspenseful. A sequence where Elizabeth's air is all-but out and she is nearly euthanized has her scrambling to pull her various I.V. tubes out. That scene keeps building effectively, being the closest of close calls. Yet, sometimes, “Oxygen's” attempts at suspense simply fall into the goofy side of things. A scene where she has to roll around to avoid a tiny robotic arm with a needle is too awkward to be suspenseful or amusing. 

Ultimately, I didn't mind “Oxygen” getting goofier as it went on too much. There's some fun to be had with a script that starts out within the realm of the plausible and becomes increasingly more unlikely as it goes on. However, packing at least two huge plot twists into the second half of your movie does have a down-side: It means you're never going to think up an ending that can top that. “Oxygen's” final moments go for sentimentality and quiet catharsis over more shocks. With a little more time, this probably would've made for a fine ending. Yet it couldn't help but feel a bit abrupt, or even anticlimactic, to me on this initial viewing. 

When you have a movie devoted almost entirely to just one person, you better have a really strong actor in your corner. Originally meant to star Noomi Rapace, who still has a producer's credit, Melanie Laurent would end up inside the cryo-pod instead. (Presumably because Rapace had already done enough of that in “Prometheus.”) Laurent is, of course, more than capable. Her performance goes a long way towards humanizing “Oxygen's” often ridiculous writing. Her ability to panic with utmost sincerity immediately sucks the audience in. She creates an utterly human character, someone completely terrified and lost but still fighting on to survive. We are more than willing to follow Laurent on this journey. When “Oxygen” works at its best, it's because of her.

As an Alexandre Aja movie, “Oxygen” carries with it certain expectations. Though it's not true of everything he's directed, his best movies usually feature gory horror delivered in shocking ways. “Oxygen” does indeed feature a bit of that. Elizabeth occasionally hallucinates images of herself on an operating table, gasping for breath while her body is all twisted up. Rats with enormous cancerous tumors have a cameo appearance, before another hallucination fills the chamber with the same rats. Probably the best shock in the movie occurs when Elizabeth finally gets the lights just outside her chamber turned on and is greeted with a very grisly sight. That was a good one.

Yet Aja's memorable visuals aren't strictly limited to the gruesome stuff. The director shows a sharp eye all throughout “Oxygen.” Obviously, shooting an entire movie in such a tight, limited location forced the director to get creative. Sometimes, the camera swirls around the inside of the pod. Other times, Elizabeth is shown floating in complete darkness and isolation, depicted from the side. Easily the most impressive scene in the entire movie occurs when the camera pulls back – all the way back – showing us exactly what kind of situation our protagonist is in. As we spiral through an enormous structure, it begins to resemble the iris of an eye. Which the film then makes more literal, by dissolving to Elizabeth's eye. When combined with rob's ethereal score, “Oxygen” manages to create a real sense of awe. 

The tricks “Oxygen” pulls off are mostly of the narrative and technical type. Yet there is another layer to this movie that I couldn't help but notice. The opening minutes of the film has Elizabeth ripping herself out of a membrane-like bag. When combined with “Oxygen's” premise of a single individual inside an enclosed area, with tubes running in and out of her body, the film's single location can't help but strike me as rather womb-like. Yet Elizabeth also spends the entire movie on the verge of death, which makes the cramped cryo-pod also indicative of a casket. I don't know how intentional this was, and the film's story never quite connects, but themes of birth and death definitely seem to be floating around inside “Oxygen.”

It's also notable that “Oxygen” is Alexandre Aja's first movie in his native language of French since “High Tension.” I can only assume this is because Melanie Laurent is also French. If the movie starred Anne Hathaway, who was attached very early in development, one assumes it would've been in English. Considering this is a very dialogue heavy movie, what language it's in does make a difference. The reviews were pretty mixed on this one, which is not surprising. There are times when “Oxygen” works extremely well. Yet it's also got a goofy streak and an underwhelming ending. How much you're able to enjoy this one will likely depend entirely on how willing you are to swallow its more outlandish moments. [Grade: C+]

Director Report Card: Edgar Wright (2021) - Part Two

8. Last Night in Soho

It's fair to say that, with those first four features, Edgar Wright became one of my favorite filmmakers. He became a lot of people's favorite filmmaker. Through his DVD special features and interview and commentaries, it became obvious that Wright is overflowing with a love and knowledge for film. Especially horror, which is probably why "Shaun of the Dead" and parts of "Hot Fuzz" were such loving homages to the genre. When it was announced that he would be returning to the horror genre, but leaving the jokes behind, it was a pretty exciting proposition. I was so excited for "Last Night in Soho" that it made my yearly list of most anticipated titles twice. Well, now I have seen what seems to be the most divisive film of Wright's career so far. 

When Eloise is accepted to the London College of Fashion, it is a dream come true for her. After the suicide of her mother when she was young, Ellie was raised by her grandmother, who regaled her with stories of London in the Swinging Sixties. This has left the girl with a fascination for the long-gone decade. After Ellie — who has latent psychic powers — moves into an apartment in Soho, she begins to dream of the sixties. Of a girl named Sandie who moved to the city in hopes of becoming a singer. And as Ellie's visions bleed into her waking hours, she realizes that Sandie was real... And that her dreams quickly became a nightmare too. 

"Last Night in Soho" is, basically, the horror vision of "Midnight in Paris." Many of the director's previous films dealt with emotionally stunted man-boys while paying homage to time periods they actually lived through, via genres like 80s buddy cop movies or retro-gaming culture. This film, on the other hand, concerns someone who is nostalgic for a decade they never experienced. Ellie has an idealized vision of London in the sixties, only knowing it though the pop songs and movies of the time. Through her dreams of Sandie, she quickly learns a hard truth: That the past wasn't all it was cracked up to be and that 1960s London had a real dark side. And so "Last Night in Soho" gets at the rotten heart of nostalgia, that it's longing for a time that never really existed and is, just as often, a tool to cover up the ugly realities people would rather forget. 

From the minute it was announced, "Last Night in Soho" was said to be influenced by Polanski's Apartment Trilogy. Considering the movie is set in a sketchy apartment and concerns a young woman possibly losing her mind, this is still evident in the final film. The climax even features male hands bursting though floorboards and walls, a likely nod at "Repulsion." Yet the movie seems to be influenced a little more by another type of horror movie with its roots in the sixties. The vibrant colors immediately bring the Gialli of Dario Argento and Mario Bava to mind. The premise of a psychic young woman trying to resolve a murder mystery brings with it hints of Fulci's "The Psychic" and a dozen other movies. The film's twisting story and dream-like touches also were obviously inspired by those Italian murder mysteries. There's no black gloves or straight razors but the connection is still readily apparent. Considering horror nerd directors talk all the time about the influence the giallo genre has on them, it's nice that someone finally just made a new one.

And like a lot of classic giallo, "Last Night in Soho" can't successfully catch all the balls it throws up in the air. The movie is quite compelling for its first hour or so. You're sucked into the mystery, as Ellie's visions take on increasingly disturbing qualities and she becomes determined to uncover what happened to Sandie. Like any good sleuthing story, you wonder yourself how things played out. And then one of the film's creepiest suspects, a predatory old man at the bar Ellie works at, is bluntly removed from the story. From there, "Last Night in Soho" unfurls a series of increasingly underwhelming reveals. This is one of those mysteries we're thinking about the possibilities of what happened are a lot more fun than the actual answers the filmmaker cooked up. 

Despite continuing to expand the limits of his narrative style, “Last Night in Soho” is still undeniably an Edgar Wright joint. “Baby Driver” definitely seems to have set a precedence for the director. This film is also full of elaborately choreographed sequence set to specially selected needle drops, some of which are literally dance numbers. Such as an on-stage burlesque number set to Sandie Shaw's “Puppet on a String” or a Halloween party dance synched with Siouxie and the Banshee's “Happy House.” (The sole song on the soundtrack that isn't from the sixties.) While there's nothing as complex as the various chase scenes from "Baby Driver," this one does feature some impressive tracking shots. Such as a nightmarish tracking shot where Sandie – and, by extension, Ellie – is exposed to all the sketchy shit that goes on back-stage at this dance club.

There's no doubt that “Last Night in Soho” looks gorgeous in general. The production design is phenomenal, making every location in the film feel like a character onto itself. The glitzy club Sandie first approaches, and the incredibly sleazy one she eventually ends up in, have two very distinct moods. Even Ellie's apartment, the central location, is able to feel like two different things – either an inviting, cozy new home or a foreboding, isolated place – depending on where in the film you are. The gorgeous use of color frequently helps this along. Befitting a story set in a fashion school, the costumes are beautiful. There's a lot in “Last Night in Soho's” favor.

Yet there's a big problem with the movie. And it's an especially disappointing one, considering the obvious enthusiasm Edgar Wright has for the horror genre: “Last Night in Soho” is never scary. In fact, it's attempts to be frightening are pretty lukewarm. Ellie's increasingly disturbing nighttime visions begin to leak into her daylight hours. This eventually manifests as male figures with melted, blurry faces appearing to her. The CGI used to create this effect is underwhelming and it's not the only example of unimpressive digital effects here. More than once, the film even utilizes these ghostly figures in service of big, loud jump scares. There's not much in the way of the shock or atmosphere that Wright's obvious inspiration utilized. “Last Night in Soho” is shockingly limp as a horror movie.

This is not the only thing about the movie that is really disappointing. The climax of the story features a big twist, a reveal that turns what the audience was expecting – and even what the movie previously showed us – on its head. The trouble with this is that it muddles the movie's thematic waters. The depictions of physical and sexual violence against women here are intense. The new information we're given in the last third sheds a new light on these past events, one that casts victimizers as victims and vice versa. Yet the movie wants to have its cake and eat it too, with a half-assed line that amounts to nothing but convictionless finger-pointing dropped into the middle of its fiery climax. A woman, Krysty Wilson-Cairns, co-write the script. Yet, when combined with the thin-as-cardboard love interest in “Baby Driver” and Ramona Flowers as an idealized fantasy in “Scott Pilgrim,” I'm really beginning to wonder if Edgar Wright knows how to write female characters at all. 

It's not just the narrative that takes a hopelessly awkward approach to the story's women. Ellie isn't a bad protagonist. Thomasin Makenzie is certainly more than capable of projecting an aura of wide-eyed naivety. When that inevitably gets chipped away, Makenzie does an admirable job of showing Ellie's sanity cracking up too. Yet the writing lets her down.  Early on, the film presents the idea of Ellie's mom having died when she was young. How she's literally haunted by this, as she sees her mom's ghost sometimes. This plot point never really comes up much outside the first half-hour. “Last Night in Soho” hardly seems to be committing on trauma or grief. It leaves us with a protagonist whose character arc feels incomplete.

In fact, both of the film's stars are not given nearly enough to work on a writing level. Sandie is, in many ways, the central figure of the movie. In the early scenes, where Anya Taylor-Joy gets to play the character as a vivacious, beautiful young woman with talent and confidence, ready to become a star, she makes an impression. As Sandie's situation grows more grave, Taylor-Joy blends into the scenario more and more. The truth is, Sandie never really comes to life as a character. She's more an idea than a fully fleshed-out person. She's trapped in the past and the film keeps her distant from us too. 

As a further homage to its London in the Swinging Sixties setting, the film's supporting cast is filled with stars from that era. Terence Stamp plays the aforementioned creepy guy in the bar, doing a little with a lot and managing to summon a fair bit of malevolent energy in his few scenes. Diane Riggs, in her last role before her death, gets a couple of key moments to herself, as the woman Ellie rents a room from. Riggs proves she was just as dynamic a screen presence at the end of her life as she was in her prime. As for the younger cast, Matt Smith is well utilized as the man who seduces Sandie before making her life a living life, being effectively charming in early scenes and equally brutish in later ones. 

By the way, the title is taken from a Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich song. This was suggested by, naturally, super-fan of the group Quentin Tarantino. It plays over the end credits, over a montage of photos of London streets from the sixties and from the modern day, when they were abandoned during the initial COVID-19 lockdown. This is only the most direct influence the pandemic had on “Last Night in Soho.” Like a lot of high-profile titles that got long delays due to the closure of theaters, this film probably would've played better without an additional year of hype behind it. I would put myself in the “liked it, didn't love it” column for this one. Wonderfully assembled in some regards, it's also incredibly flawed in other ways. The result is a sometimes enchanting movie that can't nail the landing. [Grade: B-]

Director Report Card: Edgar Wright (2021) - Part One

7. The Sparks Brothers

Music, obviously, plays a huge role in the films of Edgar Wright. “Baby Driver” was so built around its soundtrack that it was practically a musical. He's also a director clearly overflowing with knowledge and interests. His movies are dense with callbacks and references, suggesting the kind of enthusiasm Wright has for his favorite subjects. It was probably only a matter of time before these two elements combined and the director made a rock documentary. This is why I was not surprised, in 2018, when it was announced that Wright was going to make a doc about Sparks. For three years, the untitled project lingered on Wright's IMDb page, in production but seemingly unmoving. Finally, last year, it was announced that the movie, now called “The Sparks Brothers,” was done and awaiting release. It would get a surprisingly wide release last June.

Sparks is a band that has been recommended to me probably fifty times over the years. Considering I love seventies glam rock, eighties synth-pop and New Wave, and lots of music that can generally be described as "quirky," they definitely seem like a band I'd probably like. Yet, until a few months ago, I had never heard more than one or two Sparks songs in my entire life. I think their small role in "Rollercoaster" was probably my biggest previous exposure to them. Knowing I'd be reviewing this documentary soon, a few months back I endeavored to make myself a Sparks appreciator. I tried to do a deep dive through their discography. However, I only got a few albums in because I realized something: I don't think I like Sparks that much. To be brutally honest, I find Russell Mael's falsetto vocals kind of annoying. The songs, at least the ones on those first few albums, felt theatrical at the expense of rock energy and catchiness. 

And so I went into Wright's documentary as a Sparks skeptic. The film is an exhaustive tour through the band's fifty year history. It tracks Russel and Ron Mael's origins, as brothers raised by a widowed mother in California. It shows us the formation of their first band, Halfnelson, which would soon be discovered by Harry Nilsson. After their first record flopped, the band would be renamed Sparks. Slowly, but surely, they began to develop a cult following, with the brothers even managing to become teen idols in 1970s England. They have continued to make music ever since, experimenting with different styles, attracting critical acclaim, and influencing countless other artists. 

Speaking as someone who has yet to be blown away by any of Sparks' music, I'll say that Wright's film at least makes me understand the band's appeal. The Mael brothers certainly have a memorable stage presence, with Russell's golden retriever energy contrasting against Ron's totally deadpan stiffness. (Best exemplified by his surreal, ironic choice of a Charlie Chaplin/Hitler mustache.) The film emphasizes over and over again that each Sparks songs tells a story, their lyrics exuding a playful sense of humor. Yes, there is a musical theater style excess to much of their music, which I understand appeals to many listeners. I still don't know if their music for me but I can say I at least get it now.

The opening minutes of "The Sparks Brothers" emphasizes how mysterious the central duo is. Russell and Ron answer a series of basic questions, revealing that they are Americans and brothers and all that stuff. As the movie goes on, we certainly learn plenty of things about their relationship and lives. How both men stick to a daily routine and how easy and natural it is for them to work together. Yet I left "The Sparks Brothers" wishing it gave us a little more insight into their creative process. We only get a glimpse of how they write and compose songs. What the music and lyrics mean is mostly left up to the various fans of the band — which includes members of Depeche Mode, New Order, Erasure, Visage, Weird Al, Patton Oswald, and Wright himself — to define. 

Instead of exploring their creative dynamic, Wright mostly devotes the film to walking us through the band's history. There's certainly lots of amusing or interesting stories from the road here. Such as an early show where Russell accidentally cracked his head open with a hammer on-state. Or a notable TV appearance when a gaggle of shrieking teenage girls stormed the stage, which includes an interview with the lady who planted a big hug on Ron. Yet you'd think a band that had been around for so long would have more stories of strife and intensity. The film certainly makes it seem like the Mael brothers mostly avoided your typical rock star excess. The only peek into their romantic lives we get is a mention of a brief relationship Russell had with the Go-Go's' Jane Wiedlin. 

Not that I demand every rock documentary get into the tawdry aspects of the musicians' life. But it might've spiced things up here a bit. "The Sparks Brothers" paints the main conflict of the band's existence as their lack of mainstream success in America, always floating between being cult favorites and major rock stars. There's only so many times you can hear the statement "fans and critics love them but they've never quite broke through with the public" reframed before it ceases to be interesting. Wright sometimes even glosses over very dramatic situations in favor of a chronological deep dive that covers the typical ups and downs of a long-running act. A lot more tension and conflict could've been mined from a series of concerns Sparks did a few years back, where they performed all of their albums live on a series of subsequent nights. 

Something that is interesting is the clear cinematic quality of Sparks' music. It's easy to see why the band would be such a favorite among directors like Wright. Their music is clearly driven by narrative and a movie-like sense of editing and genre shifting. They also made a whole album inspired by Ingmar Bergman. It's unsurprising to learn that, multiple times over their careers, the brothers have attempted to collaborate with different filmmakers. In the seventies, they kicked around a mysterious project with Jacques Tati. They spent five years developing a musical adaptation of the manga "Mai the Psychic Girl," with Tim Burton, that was ultimately doomed. Showing how up-to-date this doc is, the movie mentions in its last third that Sparks finally got to make a musical, "Annette" with director Leo's Carax, which would actually be released just a few weeks after this documentary. But I would've liked a little more insight into all of these projects, which are largely only mentioned in passing. 

Many retrospective documentaries have to struggle with the fact that they are largely made up of interviews. People talking directly into the camera isn't very cinematic, unless you're Errol Morris. Like many documentarians before him, Wright tries a number of different techniques to make sure this isn't just a series of talking heads. There's a number of quirky animated interludes, made through a number of different mediums. Cut-out paper animation, claymation, and traditional animation are used throughout to bring various anecdotes to life. While the archive footage is usually in color, the interview segments are usually in black-and-white. This partners well with a silent movie style interlude early on. Wright also resorts to putting song titles and lyrics on-screen whenever a particularly notable number is brought up. 

Try as he might to keep "The Sparks Brothers" from simply being a series of interviews, that's mostly what it is. The film lines up a number of high-profile interviewees to gush about how much they love the band and their music. This grows tiresome pretty quickly, especially since the non-stop praise is spread across a two hour and twenty minute run time. "The Sparks Brothers" also generates that extensive length by running through every single one of the group's twenty-five records. While some of these releases are detailed more than others, not a single one is left undiscussed. This approach eventually becomes exhausting and makes "The Sparks Brothers" feel more like a Wikipedia entry than a documentary at times.

It should be apparent that "The Sparks Brothers" will be most enjoyed by die-hard fans of the band. If you love them, you'll probably love this. And if you're a Sparks agnostic, like myself, you'll probably walk away still wondering what the big deal is. Out of all the songs highlighted, I only heard three or four I'd be interested in listening to again, like the undeniably catchy "Beat the Clock" and "When Do I Get to Sing My Way?" Either I'm too pretentious or not pretentious enough to be a Sparks fan. If a similar film is ever made about a weirdo musical act I adore, like Devo or Barnes & Barnes, I would probably love it. Wright certainly does his best to make the documentary as broadly appealing and interesting as possible. There were definitely moments when I enjoyed it. Yet his insistence on covering every turn of their career, as well as filling the movie with too many interviews with adoring fans, left me thinking "The Sparks Brothers" is less an introduction to the duo and more of a celebration. [Grade: C+]