Director Report Card: Destin Daniel Cretton (2026)

 

7. Spider-Man: Brand New Day

Getting to direct a "Spider-Man" movie must be a real double-edged sword by this point. He's one of those superheroes that nearly everybody has strong feelings about. Thousands more kids grew up watching the cartoons and movies or playing the video games or with the toys than those that ever bothered to read a comic book. You're going to be judged and scrutinized by hardcore nerds and filthy casuals with spider symbol decals on their cars. At the same time, a film actually about Spider-Man – and not one of his villains or a blind lady he talked to a few times – is guaranteed to be a massive success. Also to consider is that the Marvel Cinematic Universe house style is so ingrained at this point that it's unlikely to make any filmmaker a household name. I'm sure Jon Watts and Marc Webb have done just fine for themselves. However, their stints with the web crawler did little to raise their profiles beyond earning the scorn of hyper-online nerds. These types of gigs are surely beneficial to the directors' bank accounts at the cost of any public artistic identity.

So you're Destin Daniel Cretton. You've directed some well regarded indies and two Oscar Bait dramas that didn't win Oscars. Marvel scoops you up to direct a project conceived during the period when every movie they were making, no matter how obscure the source character was, became a huge success... But the movie releases after the pandemic, when the air is fast running out of that balloon. I thought "Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings" was among the best of the studio's post-"Endgame" slate and it did okay at the box office. Nevertheless, a prospective sequel and spin-off series got lost in the corporate shuffle to re-right the ship and your leading man said some kind of weird shit online. You're going to direct the next "Avengers" movie but then you aren't, because that project's leading man got real-deal canceled and took the entire planned direction for the franchise with him. Your prestige mini-series about Japanese-American soldiers in World War II is slow to develop and another Marvel TV project – the shrinking number of people still watching those like it – is the only thing you've actually directed in the last four years. Your Disney corporate overlords offer you the next "Spider-Man," maybe to make up for the "Avengers" fiasco. Do you take the job? Of course, you do. "Spider-Man: Brand New Day" has opened to predictably enormous box office, so I'm betting Cretton is feeling fine about all this. But what of the film itself? Let us investigate further. 

Despite taking its subtitle from a controversial comic story line, "Spider-Man: Brand New Day" is not set in the aftermath of a deal with the devil and Aunt May is still dead. Instead, the new status quo established by "No Way Home's" ending has Peter Parker forgotten by all his friends and loved ones. He has focused his life entirely on being Spider-Man. While this has made the web head New York City's most beloved hero, it's left Peter feeling isolated. His spider powers begin to develop in strange ways, his body producing organic webbing and Peter going into rage fueled black-outs where he acts dangerously. Soon, a new threat emerges: A psychic presence that can inhabit any body and seems determined to break into the Department of Damage Control. This new villain directly targets MJ, who Peter still loves but who no longer remembers him. The Spider-Man is going to have to learn to control his new powers, consider the cost of reconnecting with those who have forgotten him, and unravel the true motive behind this enemy all at once.

Filmmakers keep saying they have a desire to make a "street level" Spider-Man movie. While the character is certainly involved in universe reshuffling shenanigans regularly, most of his villains are of more humble ambitions than world dominance. Of course, every superhero movie has to be an event now, meaning the last several appearance of the character have been crossovers or globe-trotting adventures. At various points in development, it was promised that "Brand New Day" would finally refocus on the neighborhood part of Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. And for about a half-hour in the first half, it actually is that. There's a highly energetic montage devoted to showing encounters with a series of B-list villains, each one patterned directly after a classic cover. This is part of a longer first act, in which Spidey is directly in contact with the chief of police and simply stopping whatever petty super-crime comes along. Even after the mind swapping threat appears to centralize the story, this more casual energy remains for a while. This is, in fact, the pace and tone I've always wanted from a Spider-Man movie. Aside from the thrill of seeing, say, Tombstone on-screen, a Spidey who is always swinging in and out of other adventures works great for me. 

Of course, this is not meant to last for the entire runtime. Each of the MCU Spider-Man movies have been reluctant to let the character stand alone, bringing Iron Man, Nick Fury, or Doctor Strange into the plot. You would think that, of all of Marvel's characters, literally their most popular would be able to stand alone. Whether this is a result of the Byzantine contractual obligations between Disney and Sony that make these movies possible or simply a desire to establish this Spidey as thoroughly part of the cinematic universe, that trend continues in “Brand New Day.” The Punisher appears early in the run time and reoccurs throughout. Dr. Bruce Banner gets a conversation with Peter before his green, angry alter ego is spotlighted in a later action sequence. The mysterious antagonist of the film turns out to be exactly who everyone has speculated they would be, another very well-known  Marvel character re-debuting on-screen. The superhero supporting cast is so prominent throughout “Brand New Day” that it might as well have been called “Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends” or “Marvel Team-Up Featuring Spider-Man.”

The stated goal of wanting to be a lower stakes story simply about the web-slinger, his civilian buddies and love interest, obviously conflicts with high-profile characters showing up. It also creates another tiring feeling, of sitting through a big budget superhero flick that is merely an extended preview of another big budget superhero flick that Marvel Studios' brain trust is presumably hard at work on. Can we not just enjoy a story by itself? Must every tights-wearing motion picture be a part of a massive web of crossovers and brand synergy? Ya know, Peter Parker swinging over to a college campus and getting some advice from Dr. Banner is one thing. That would be a fairly standard event in the pages of the comics. However, here this scene merely proceeds a showdown with the Hulk later on. Devoting the primary villain role to another hotly anticipated character is a more questionable decision, tying Spider-Man to a character he's not that associated with and promising more adventures – more corporate product we must consume – down the line. 

Of all the guest stars, the Punisher is one that gives me the most pause. The blood thirsty vigilante first appeared as a Spider-Man adversary, of course. I've not read every appearance the two characters have made together. I'm sure, at one point or another, they interacted in a more cooperative manner. However, it still feels a little weird to have Spider-Man bantering with a character that has been acknowledged in-universe to be essentially a mass murderer. Jon Bernthal and Tom Holland have some decently amusing chemistry. The contrast between the younger hero's irrelevant style and Frank Castle's gruffness is worth a laugh or two but, by the end, we are meant to have genuinely warm feelings about their relationship. Which feels like a kind of weird thing to do with such a hard-boiled character. The script never quite acknowledges that the Friendly Neighborhood hero is being all buddy-buddy with a brutal killer throughout, one presumably wanted in connection with hundreds of homicides. Perhaps I am simply too much of a nerd to overlook the disconnect here and the average theater-goer will be less bothered by this. 

That “Brand New Day” is so preoccupied with slightly distracting crossovers is all the more frustrating as the premise has an intriguing question behind it. Peter Parker has always been pulled between the duty he feels as a superhero and his devotion to his friends and family. In this film, he's essentially chosen his crime fighting over his love life, in an attempt to keep them safe from the consequences of being connected to Spider-Man. All he can do is watch from afar as his best friend and the girl he loves both easily move on without him. This addresses an anxiety perhaps all of us have felt: How vital are we to other people's lives? If we disappeared suddenly, would the people so important to us find us equally important to them? The push-and-pull between wanting those we love to be happy and move on and what value this assigns to our own existence strikes me as an extremely Spider-Man-like emotion to explore. 

This idea takes center stage in the film's middle section, when the focus turns to Peter and MJ's relationship. Tom Holland and Zendaya continue to have strong chemistry, making these moments even more compelling. The script, at first, seems like its sticking to its guns and isn't going to magically undo past events. The blank slate is indeed blank. Obviously, this is the emotional backbone of the entire movie. Frustratingly, that relationship is entirely sidelined during the actual climax, which basically removes MJ from the story all together. Instead, the script repeatedly focuses in on a much less compelling idea, asking Peter if he truly has to do this all by himself. This moves towards a more generalized struggle against grief and finding the strength to go on after such a loss. This is a much less interesting idea, that never quite squares with the story actually being told here and ultimately feels like a somewhat desperate attempt to connect Peter's story with that of the antagonist's. 

Another common enough Spider-Man trope is Parker's personal anxieties effecting his ability to fight crime. “Brand New Days” draws a little from storylines in which his spider side mutates further, this time as a manifestation over his fears of losing MJ for good. The sequel stops short of having Peter sprout extra arms or turn into a full-on human/spider hybrid. Instead, he merely wakes up in his own webs at one point and develops fully black sclera. This is disappointing in its own right, as it feels like this subplot never quite pays off. Further more, the way this is ultimately resolved really (excuse the pun) bug me. Spider-Man continues to struggle with a fear that he's losing control of his own abilities up until a pivotal moment where... He closes his eyes, thinks about it real hard, and seizes control. At which point, he suddenly has access to a whole new plethora of superpowers that give him the boost needed in a big fight scene. This, to me, feels like video game logic infecting Hollywood screenwriting. Peter Parker levels up, simply by progressing through events, and can now control that which he previously couldn't. It does not feel earned, like a proper pay-off to the hero's development, and simply has him being able to do these now because it's that time in the story. 

Writing like this, distressingly becoming more common in big budget cinema of late, undersells the idea that the story's deeper themes mean anything. How can we accept “Spider-Man: Brand New Day” as an actual reflection on grappling with loss, trying to stone-wall our personal pain, or anxieties that our loved ones will be fine without us if it all wraps up with some shonen fighting anime style power-up? That points towards a problem all blockbuster cinema has, in our increasingly corporate age. The last third of “Brand New Day” sees all of New York City rallying around their local hero, cheering for him to make a brave recovery. There's a lengthy montage of the character's distinctive red and blue web pattern appearing in all sorts of public contexts. At this point, the question becomes if the sequel isn't much more than a self-indulgent act of corporate self-promotion. Look upon this hyper-valuble I.P., mere mortal movie goers, and think about how much you love Product. Is the film's script built upon the nostalgic, emotional connection the audience has to the “brand” itself and not to the story its telling? 

It's entirely possible I'm overthinking this. That I've gotten too old and cranky to simply embrace a special effects driven spectacle for its own sake. Maybe my brain is too full of worries about corporate waste as the world faces down threats much more important than costumed villains. Popular films are ostensibly a reflection of the world they are made in. There are hints throughout “Brand New Day” of how fucked-up shit has gotten in America. A scene where a character is abducted off the street by black-clad government agents, shoved into a van, and un-person-ed in broad daylight is a (possibly questionable) reflection of ICE raids and anti-fascist protesters getting dragged off. The story bends towards an easily guessed twist, that the agencies we have designated with protecting us might be more interested in consolidating their own power instead. Of course, these ideas are never seriously confronted. As in past Marvel movies, the abuses of power by the government are dismissed as the acts of bad apples. Spider-Man stops the bad guy and they get arrested by the cops. He doesn't dismantle the architecture of systematic repression and control. Such short-falls are to be expected but it represents the film's unwillingness to actually make us care, to invest its world with the proper amount of reality. 

Which points towards another problem I have with “Brand New Day,” one that necessitates I enter Extremely Obvious Spoilers territory to address: Why is Jean Grey the bad guy in a Spider-Man movie? From the minute up-and-coming redhead actress Sadie Sink was cast in an undisclosed part, fans assumed she was playing the future X-Woman. The script reveals this is the case about half-way through, as if the filmmakers are admitting how obvious this would-be twist must be. While Miss Grey has been possessed by genocidal cosmic consciousnesses from time to time, she's not typically a villain. A viewer with a basic measure of comic book knowledge can anticipate that she's acting this way for a good reason. While the origins we're familiar with have been rearranged, it still presents an underwhelming reveal about what is really going on.

Sink is fine in the role. Her big blue eyes can convey a degree of pain and emotion that suits what her character is going through. I'm sure she'll do fine in the surely forthcoming “X-Men” movie Disney is working on right now. Occasionally, “Brand New Day” utilizes its telepathic villain for some exciting sequence. People rag-dolling for a second as another mind takes over their bodies is inconsistently portrayed, usually being used as visual shorthand to show us who is under Grey's control at that moment. (Which does remove some of what is supposed to make her powers frightening, the idea that this threat can be anyone at any moment.) However, the sequence where Peter has to outrun the body-hopping possessive entity across the streets of New York is well-done. It's certainly better than the CGI infused finale, that turns this into a city-wide threat with lots of explosive special effects also depended on the idea of a character suddenly gaining control over new powers. Again, I'm just left wondering why these events are being focused on over elements of the story that obviously mean a lot more to these characters and everything that came before. 

The answer to that question is obvious: Because it's a Marvel movie. Getting a soratonin spike out of the audience simply by putting a familiar name or face on-screen is what these films have increasingly been designed to do. It's frustrating because, occasionally, “Brand New Day” does prove to be compelling blockbuster film making in its own right. A highlight of Cretton's “Shang-Chi” were action scenes that balanced acrobatic martial arts with the expected CGI spectacle more often. There's some of that in Cretton's “Spider-Man” as well. Not only when Peter is swinging through the city or tossing webbing around to capture opponents. During several clever spots, the point-of-view itself inverts and swings around the action, truly putting the viewer in the center of this thrill ride. When battling a group of acrobatic ninjas or a free-fall struggle with the Hulk, I was able to get caught up in this. If I'm being especially generous, “Brand New Day” is better than most comic book adaptations of putting the visual dynamism of the four-color medium in motion on the big screen. If I'm being more honest with myself, these moments represents brief surprises in-between a lot of far less memorable lighting, blocking, and cinematography. 

And that brings me back around to the question of Destin Daniel Cretton's authorial fingerprint. I'm sad to say that you don't see much of his personality coming through the film. Learning how to square away personal trauma and continue on with your life is certainly a present theme in the film, as it was in his “Wonder Man' series as well. However, like I said, that often takes a back seat to the bombast. Cretton's other pet themes, of daddy issues and cultural integration, simply aren't present at all. In fact, aside from some of those “Shang-Chi”-like action scenes, the only move here that strikes me as indicative of Cretton's previous work is a soundtrack that's heavy on indie rock needle drops, especially during plaintive montages. That gave me some “I Am Not a Hipster” flashbacks. Otherwise, it's hard not to conclude that the “Short Term 12” auteur has been thoroughly swallowed up by the blockbuster machine. 

It is, in other words, just another Marvel movie. “Spider-Man: Brand New Day” has its moments, a splash of color or inventive action work that got my heart pumping. The cast remains likable. That opening act really did give me hope that this would be a proper day-in-the-life-of-Spider-Man adventure and not merely a teaser for the next massive crossover to come. Sadly, that's not the case. The mere sight of my childhood comic book collection being brought to life on-screen is not enough to subsist a whole movie anymore. This lack of novelty, the sense that the product itself has become the point and not whatever thoughts or feelings it might invoke, is what has made superhero cinema a lot less interesting to me lately. “Brand New Day” isn't bad. It's fine. Will I ever feel the need to watch it again? That's a question I have a much less certain answer to. Good luck with that "Naruto" movie, Destin. [Grade: C+]

 

Director Report Card: Destin Daniel Cretton (2021)

6. Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings

In 1973, due to the popularity of Bruce Lee and other martial arts stars, Marvel Comics debuted Shang-Chi, the Master of Kung-Fu. The character was very popular for a time, his comic book running until 1983. Shang-Chi would never become a best-seller again but he's continue to float around the Marvel Comics universe, even becoming an Avenger at one point. Even if his glory days were behind him, it was recognized early on that the character would probably make for a good movie. Stan Lee supposedly wanted Brandon Lee to play him in the eighties and Stephen Norringtin and Yuen Woo-Ping, at different points, were attached to direct an adaption. It took until the fourth phase of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, now that the studio is really digging into its library of characters, for Shang-Chi to reach cinema screens. With Destin Daniel Cretton as director, "Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings" is primed to become Marvel's latest superhero blockbuster. 

A thousand years ago, Chinese warlord Xu Wenwu discovered ten magical rings that granted him eternal life and immense power. He would go on to conquer Asia. In 1996, after centuries of running a criminal empire, he would attempt to locate the legendary village of Ta Lo. Instead, he fell in love with the village's protector. They had two children, Shang-Chi and Xu Xialing. After their mother was killed by a criminal rival, Wenwu would train his children to become warriors. Both escaped their cruel father. Now in his twenties, Shang-Chi lives a directionless life in America with his friend, Katy. That is until assassins sent by his father locate him. He heads off to protect his sister and both are soon reunited with their father, who is still seeking Ta Lo. Shang-Chi must face his father and discover his inner strength to protect his mother's village and the secrets it holds. 

In the lead-up to "Shang-Chi's" release, Destin Daniel Cretton admitted he previously didn't have much interest in superhero movies. Considering his previous credits are all low-key dramas, that's no surprise. Cretton, who has a co-writer credit on the script, brings more of that influence to his MCU debut than expected. "Shang-Chi" is a bit more character-driven than your typical Marvel movie. It's essentially a film about the very different ways father and son process the grief of their mother/wife's death. Shang-Chi flees from his familial destiny, burying his grief in a new identity. His father becomes obsessed with it, trying to regain what is lost. The film builds these feelings into its story, finding a surprisingly graceful way to resolve these themes amid the typical superhero movie action. 

Despite his previous films' paltry budgets, Cretton actually fits right in with the MCU. Almost all his movies are about family, with the forgiveness of flawed father figures being prominent story threads in at least three of them. And the Marvel Cinematic Universe is, of course, awash in Daddy Issues. Wenwu is pretty unambiguously a bad father. He murders people in front of his son and forced his kids into a brutal life of violence. Yet Shang-Chi's journey doesn't just involve standing up to his dad. It's as much about accepting that his father, for better or worst, is part of who he is. That his dad molded him into the man he is. While the film is maybe still a little too soft on Wenwu – a criminal mastermind for centuries who is probably responsible for untold death and suffering – at least Shang-Chi's eventually coming to terms with his dad's bullshit is less heavy-handed than what Cretton did in "The Glass Castle."

Something else that was mentioned in the pre-release press for “Shang-Chi” was how this is a movie about Asian identity. Like every American movie made about Asian identity, that means it's also a film about cultural integration. Shang-Chi has run away from his Chinese home and even abandoned his name, adopting the Americanized name “Shaun.” His friend, Katy, also doesn't go by her Chinese name. Her parents still speak Chinese and are more keenly in-touched with their ancestry than their fully integrated kids. As he makes the journey to confront his father, he is reintroduced to his heritage. When he travels further and finds his mother's village, Shang-Chi discovers that his dad's way of being Chinese is not the only way to exist. That his cultural background is a diverse, wondrous world with many avenues to explore. He returns to America with a more profound understanding of who he is. It's a story we've seen told many times before but good on Marvel for touching on such a topic in a popcorn action flick.

When it was announced that Marvel was making a “Shang-Chi” movie, one assumes that every up-and-coming actor of Asian descent must've auditioned. The role was eventually won by Simu Liu, an actor best known for co-starring on a Canadian sitcom. Liu absolutely proves himself as a leading man. During the early scenes, he has an incredibly easy-going chemistry with his co-stars and produces laughs in a casual manner. He pairs that laid-back quality with a sudden urgency during the action scenes, where he proves to be a more-than-adapt martial artists. Liu can do the dramatic heavy lifting as well, clearly understanding his character and where he's coming from. Liu has the charm, screen presence, and skill to become a major movie star and I hope it happens. 

If relative unknown actors were sought out for the titular role, I'm absolutely certain that the company looked for an established Asian star for the role of Wenwu. It's hard to imagine them doing much better than Tony Leung. The frequent John Woo star makes sure the film's villain, a fusion of the comic version of Fu Manchu and the Mandarin, is far from a one-dimensional villain. Leung's Wenwu is ultimately sympathetic. He loved his wife and was deeply wounded by her death. He loves his kids too, albeit in a way that's extremely selfish. As much as Leung's sad eyes make the character easy to understand, he also creates a terrifying villain. Because Wenwu can turn on a dime, a quietly threatening presence sneaking into his words with just a turn of his head. When he moves into action, coldly exterminating his enemies, it's clear that he's as intimidating as he seems to be. It's an impressive balance for Leung to keep.

Furing down the cast list is Awkafina as Katy. The only thing I could think of while watching her is that she's playing the Chris Tucker in “Rush Hour” role here. Despite being Chinese herself, she's completely out of her element on this crazy adventure. Awkafina is here to quip goofy one-liners in reaction to the insane shit happening around her. This makes it a bit difficult to swallow when she asks to perform in the action scenes later in the film. The character literally picks up a bow for the first time in her life and, a few hours later, is effortlessly shooting monsters out of the sky. Still, Awkafina doing her typical schtick is less distracting here than it was in “Raya and the Last Dragon,” another 2021 Disney release she starred in that featured Asian-style water dragons. 

Going into “Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings,” one thing was really important to me above all others: The movie's fights had to be good. Big Hollywood films very rarely have good fight choreography anymore, it seems. Even if the actors are capable and the fights are decent, they're often ruined with choppy editing or shaky direction. But this is a movie about a character known as the Master of Kung-Fu, so it had to bring it. “Shang-Chi” ultimately features good – not great – fight scenes. The first fight scene, in which “Shaun” battles a group of goons on a bus as it's slowly sliced apart by his frequent comic book adversary Razor-Fist, is obviously inspired by Jackie Chan-style comedic martial arts set-pieces. There's some impressive moments here but it's still a little too shaky for me. A series of fights alongside the scaffolding of a skyscraper with a group of ninjas is better and features a stylish shot showdown at the end. The best fight in the movie is probably the wuxia-inspired sequence where Wenwu meets his eventual wife, which is as much a balletic dance as it is a fight. (As many good martial art scenes frequently are.)

No matter how decent the melee fights may be throughout “Shang-Chi,” this is still a Marvel movie. That means it turns into a feast of CGI destruction in its last act. The movie manages to sneak small roles for legends like Michelle Yeoh and Yuen Wah. Yet the last third of the movie is still preoccupied with CGI mayhem. Lots of crazy monsters are flying through the air, computer-generated balls of lights are passed around, and the heroes are often lost among the giant digital monstrosities warring with each other. Don't get me wrong, some of this stuff is cool. The final duel between Shang-Chi and his dad is well done. There's a pretty cool dragon and eldritch abomination thrown in there too. But its hard to be impressed by the acrobatics of the performers when we know the action is being assisted by computers.

I hate to be cynical about this but, in some ways, “Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings” is pretty clearly an attempt by Marvel recreate the success of “Black Panther” but for Asian-American characters. This does not undermine the representation on display here but it certainly feels true. This is especially true when Shang-Chi and his friends finally make it to Ta Lo. It's a CGI wonderland, not unlike Wakanda. Which isn't too say that it isn't cool. The setting provides some cameos from creatures from actual Asian mythology. Such as huli jing, fenghuang, qilin, and enormous foo dogs. Just as a fan of world mythologies, it's pretty neat to see this stuff on-screen. Even if it's a blatant attempt to recreate a previous popular blockbuster. 

The most prominent fantastical creature in the film is Morris, a dijiang that appears throughout the second half. The bizarre creature is utterly adorable, like a cross between a pig and a dog but with wings and minus a face. Morris is also linked to Trevor Slattery, Ben Kingsley's character from “Iron Man 3” who is back here in a hilariously deadpan supporting role. (This is also used to smooth over any plot holes that were caused by that movie's notorious twist about the Mandarin, which this film dismisses in a single exchange of dialogue.) That's a good example of how “Shang-Chi” effortlessly links itself to the rest of the Marvel universe. I have to admire the way Marvel has built things up so that the villain from “The Incredible Hulk,” that we haven't seen in a decade, can just dropped in for a casual cameo. Or that a supporting character from “Dr. Strange” can waltz in and out of the story, which hints towards a Cthulhu-like god of darkness from the comics becoming a primary antagonist in the last act. 

“Shang-Chi's” willingness to connect itself with the rest of the Marvel universe shows Disney's confidence in this film. The post-credit scenes are eagerly setting up further adventures and happily welcomes the Master of Kung-Fu into the universe's pantheon of heroes. While I'm getting a little burnt out on franchise-building, I'll admit I walked away from “Legend of the Ten Rings” wanting to see more of these characters. Whether it's the charm of its cast or the more character-centric approach Cretton takes to the material, this one still ends up feeling fresher than your typical superhero adventure. Even if it falls to many of the flaws inherent in the genre. I still had a good time with this fusion of martial arts, big budget fantasy, comic book storytelling, and family melodrama. [Grade: B]

Director Report Card: Destin Daniel Cretton (2019)

5. Just Mercy

“The Glass Castle” might not have garnered the kind of award season attention it so desperately wanted but Destin Daniel Cretton clearly continued to be a filmmaker that producers sought out for “important” films. “Just Mercy” is a memoir by Bryan Stevenson, an attorney who has worked to overturn the death penalty for wrongfully convicted prisoners. Broad Green Pictures acquired the film rights to the book, with Cretton becoming attached to direct shortly afterwards. Scooped up by Warner Brothers shortly after that, “Just Mercy” was released in December of 2019. Clearly, this was another would-be Oscar contender. Once again, it didn't exactly work out but “Just Mercy” still earned mostly excellent reviews.

Bryan Stevenson studies law at Harvard because he wants to help people. While still in school he meets a man on death row, who is black, young, and from the same sort of neighborhood as him. In 1989, he travels to Alabama to co-found an initiative to overturn death penalty convictions. There he comes across the case of Walter “Johnny D.” McMillian, a black man awaiting execution after being found guilty for the murder of a white woman. Bryan quickly uncovers numerous inconsistencies in the evidence: That his entire family was at home with Johnny when the murder supposedly took place, that the sole witness changed his story numerous times. Yet Stevenson faces an uphill battle, and considerable intimidation, convincing the local courts to overturn the conviction.

“Just Mercy” struck me, more than anything else, as an autopsy of injustice. As Stevenson digs into the case, he gets a clearer picture of how hard McMillian was railroaded. He uncovers the staggering evidence against McMillian being a murderer, with an entire household full of people providing alibis only being the beginning. He soon learns that the man who claimed McMillian was the killer was intimidated and bribed by local police to accuse him. Afterwards, it's uncovered that McMillian was placed on death row before he was even convicted. The exact reason why a random black man would be falsely accused, and rushed into prison, for a crime he didn't commit in rural Alabama is not hard to guess. Walter's own wife calls it a “modern day lynching" and she's not wrong.

This is far from the only parallel between the McMillian case and America's racist past. Upon arriving at the prison, the film pans over to a field full of black prisoner working under watch of a horseback guard with a gun, an image obviously evocative of southern plantation slavery. Shortly after arriving at the prison, Stevevon is strip-searched even though this is not normal for lawyers. As he progresses further into uncovering McMillian's innocence, the young attorney is harassed by local police. Even after successfully getting the lone witness to recant his previous story in court, the local judge still refuses to overturn the conviction. It feels like a hopeless situation and that's, all too often, exactly what being a black man in America feels like. “Just Mercy” depicts, all too clearly, how this country's legal institutions are designed to punish anyone who isn't white.

"Just Mercy" is, obviously and unapologetically, an "issues" movie. Yet the unfettered racism of the American law system is not the only issue it's about. McMillian is not the only death row inmate Stevenson seeks to help. Herbert Richardson is badly traumatized Vietnam veteran who, in a state of mind he still doesn't understand, blew up his girlfriend's house with a homemade bomb. Despite his clear mental trauma, he was still given the death penalty. Richardson is eventually executed, which Stevenson witnesses and is among the film's most bracing moments. "Just Mercy" ends with a title card informing us how many wrongfully convicted prisoners have been put to death. Considering this is a film more broadly about racial injustice, the anti-death penalty scenes do feel a bit like a digression... But it's a compelling one. "Just Mercy" is, if nothing else, utterly sincere about this topic and determined to make its feelings clearly known. 

Watching as a suburban white guy, it's pretty clear to me that "Just Mercy" is a movie obviously designed to invoke a specific feeling in white audiences. It's a film made to expose injustice and make viewers more aware of the harsh realities anybody who isn't white faces in America. Yet the system is ultimately exonerated. It takes an incredible battle on the legal team's behalf but Johnny D. is ultimately freed. So was at least one of the other convicts depicted in the film, the pre-credits title card informs us. Compare this to a movie like "12 Years a Slave" – which was directed by a black man – which ends by making it perfectly clear that small victories do not cut out the racist heart of this country. "Just Mercy" is inspiring and effective at conveying its message but maybe a hopeful note isn't how you won't to end this movie, when black people are still disproportionately abused by the law.

At the very least, "Just Mercy" is smart enough to cast a black man in the lead role, preventing it from falling into the "white people solve racism" genre. (In fact, "To Kill a Mockingbird" – the ultimate white people solve racism movie – is ironically referenced several times throughout this film.) Bryan Stevenson is played by Michael B. Jordon. Compared to his fiery, star-making turns in "Creed" or "Black Panther," Jordon is subdued here. When personally attacked by the racist institutions of Alabama, he trembles with silent rage. Yet compassion is what drives Stevenson, not anger. Jordan fantastically captures this idea, that empathy is our greatest weapon in our battle against injustice and racism.

The other big star in the movie is Jamie Foxx as Walter MacMillian. Foxx obviously has the showiest role in the movie. He gets a speech towards the middle of the film, where he describes astutely and plainly how his experience as an innocent man rolled over by a horribly racist institution makes him feel. Yeah, this is obviously the Oscar Clip moment for Foxx in this movie. Yet Foxx is still really good here. He does an excellent job of balancing two attributes of MacMillian. He is someone who has been beaten down repeatedly by an unjust system. He's angry and frustrated. Through it all, he still manages to hold out some hope that justice will ultimately prevail. If not for him, maybe for other people. Performances like this remind you of what an intuitive actor Jamie Foxx can be when paired with the right material. 

I guess if this review has made nothing else clear, it's that "Just Mercy" is a pretty good movie despite being blatant Oscar bait. It has the big moments designed to wring emotion out of Academy voters. MacMillian's son is intimidated into not testifying in court. Later, after the first attempt to overturn his father's conviction is brutally ignored, the son stands up. He loses control of his emotions and is eventually tackled to the ground by white security officers. Shortly afterwards, MacMillian refuses to return to his jail cell and is similarly attacked by white prison guards. The music soars and the white guilt flows. This scene stands in contrast to "Just Mercy's" best moments, which are more subtle. Such as when MacMillian calms a panicked stricken Herbert Richardson by having him imagine a peaceful forest. Or the cell block singing together in an impromptu song. These scenes most clearly illustrate how the film's characters keep their humanity in a seemingly hopeless situation. 

Jordan and Foxx are not the only Marvel actors to appear in this one. Brie Larson plays Eva Ansly, Stevenson's main partner in setting up the Equal Justice Initiative. Larson presumably took the part to work again with Cretton, as it's a pretty small role for a star as big as her. Still, she taps into that gritty sarcasm that made her "Short Term 12" character so likable. Eva is a single mom and the way she protects her son, even in the face of violent intimidation, makes for a number of touching and funny scenes. The supporting cast also features an expertly squirrelly Tim Blake Nelson as the prime witness, O'Shea Jackson Jr. as a softly funny fellow inmate, and an ideally condescending Rafe Spall as the local prosecutor.

Most of Destin Daniel Cretton's documentary and indie movie roots were smoothed off by the time he directed "The Glass Castle." This is also mostly true of "Just Mercy," a film that looks very smooth and has a lot of warm colors in it. However, briefly, you can still catch a glimpse of the director's origins. Upon arriving at the prison, there's a series of first-person interviews with death row inmates that feels like something out of a documentary. Later, an early morning scene of Stevenson going for a run recalls the handheld, shaky-cam techniques the director displayed in his earlier pictures. It's nice to see this stuff still floating around inside the director's style, I suppose.

Another less notable but nevertheless interesting thing about "Just Mercy" is the amount of effort taken to make the actors in the movie actually look like their real-life counterparts. Usually, it's really distracting at the end of the Oscar bait movies, when they show pictures of the real people and it becomes clear how little they resemble the actors. And, yeah, Michael B. Jordan is way more handsome than the unassuming real life Bryan Stevenson. Yet Jamie Foxx is really made to look quite a lot like Walter MacMillian, the real man's hair and distinctive facial structure really grafted into the world face movie star. This even more true if Tim Blake Nelson, whose make-up makes him almost an uncanny lookalike of the real world Ralph Myers. The make-up artist really earned their keep on this one.

Despite the obvious ambitions "Just Mercy" had for itself, it would be a no-show come Oscar season. The movie received a number of notable awards and nominations but a SAG nomination for Foxx is the closest it came to Oscar gold. But that's okay. "Just Mercy" is still a well-made and well-acted film that makes some powerful points, even if it can't totally overcome the shortcomings of this type of motion picture. Warner Brothers would even make the film free-to-stream during the racial upheaval of 2020, so perhaps someone realized the message here was actually more important than box office or awards. [Grade: B]

Destin Daniel Cretton had already gotten his Marvel superhero gig by the time "Just Mercy" came out. Clearly, that project has made him one of the hottest up-and-comers in Hollywood right now. He already has a prestigious follow-up planned after the comic book adventure: A television mini-series about Japanese-American soldiers in World War II. While it remains to be seen if Cretton and "Shang-Chi" will open the doors for more Asian-American filmmakers, I suspect it will.

As for my experience tracking another director I was previously unfamiliar with... Cretton is an interesting guy. I didn't love any of his movies and his recent slide towards Oscar bait blandness is a bit disappointing. Yet I came out of this Report Card liking the filmmaker more than expected. His talent and, more than anything, an underlying wholesome spirit – a call for more compassion and empathy – seems to motivate him. That's a nice thing to see in the film industry. I wish him luck and I'm looking forward to "Shang-Chi." 

Director Report Card: Destin Daniel Cretton (2017)

4. The Glass Castle

In 2004, “The Glass Castle” by Jeanette Walls was published. A memoir, the book would tell the story of Walls' childhood with her eccentric parents, growing up in poverty, and the eventual path she took to becoming a successful writer and columnist. It's the kind of inspirational story that immediately attracts attention and the book soon became a best-seller. A film adaptation seemed inevitable and, sure enough, Liongates acquired the movie rights in 2012. Initially, Jennifer Lawrence was attached to star with Destin Daniel Cretton coming on as director shortly afterwards. When Lawrence exited the project, Cretton brought on his “Short Term 12” leading lady, Brie Larson, to step into the lead role.  It was certainly the highest profile project for the director up to this point. 

In 1986, Jeanette Wells is living in Manhattan, writing the gossip column for New York magazine, and engaged to an up-and-coming accountant. That is when she sees her parents, Rex and Rose, living on the street and going through dumpsters. This causes her to reflect on her childhood. It was a largely transient experience, her irresponsible painter mother and an eccentric alcoholic father keeping them on the road most of the time. When finally settling down in poverty in West Virginia, the flaws of Jeanette's father became more apparent. Now as an adult, she attempts to patch up the relationship with her father while still carrying the literal and metaphorical wounds from her childhood.

One can only speculate but this is why I feel Destin Daniel Cretton decided to direct “The Glass Castle.” “Short Term 12” received critical praise and scooped up awards all over without managing to garner any Academy Award nominations. If one was to think cynically, you could accuse “The Glass Castle” as being blatant Oscar bait. Like a lot of medium budget dramas, it concerns a brood of quirky outsiders traveling the country. Scenes involving an arm-wrestling match leading towards a fist fight or an inspiration message delivered around a camp fire seem like something out of a “Little Miss Sunshine” wannabe. I mean, the movie was even suppose to star Jennifer Lawrence right on the heels of “Joy.”

“The Glass Castle's” pretensions towards being a touching and inspirational true life story designed to make critics cheer and audiences feel warm is most apparent in several big dramatic speeches. When Jeanette has finally had it up to here with her parents' nonsense, she chews them out at a big social gathering in front of everyone. At the film's emotional climax, when Rex is nearing the end of his life, he tries to sum up everything he's taught his daughter in one paragraph of words. In both moments, the music swells. The actors strain, their faces contorting as they try to sell the emotion. They feel like prefabricated Oscar clips and are overwrought, to say the least.

While you can accuse “The Glass Castle” of being many things, I don't think it meets the criteria for one oft-touted criticism of Oscar-bait-y stories like this: It's not “poverty porn.” When the Walls family returns to Rex's childhood home town of Welch, West Virginia, they live in a ramshackle house in the middle of nowhere. The home is without electricity or running water, the kids often forced to sneak into town to use public showers. This is actually an improvement for the children, who previously lived out of a car. As someone who has lived in West Virginian towns not too dissimilar to Welch, I can say that this is a pretty accurate depiction of life under the poverty line. Moreover, “The Glass Castle” never depicts any folksy wisdom or whimsical joy arising out of the family's undesirable living condition. Living like this is hard and this movie is, at least, honest about that. “Hillbilly Elegy” this ain't. 

Even if “The Glass Castle” is blatant Oscar bait, you also can't deny something else: It's definitely a Destin Daniel Cretton movie. The movie clearly continues the themes and ideas the director is interested in. Namely, the relationship between parents and their children... Especially abusive parents and their children. Rex is not a good dad. While drunk and at a public swimming pool, he nearly drowns Jeanette in a misguided attempt to teach her how to swim. When trying to detox, he screams and yells at her. Yet Rex's behavior was not born in a vacuum. When visiting his mother's home, we see a cruel and domineering woman who violently enforces her will on anyone around her. Later, the siblings seemingly discovers their grandmother sexually abusing one of their brothers. Parental abuse reverberates through time, abuse begetting damaged adults that beget yet more damaged adults. 

Yet this does not represent the director's only interest in family. Jeanette is not alone in her complicated relationship with her father. Her brothers and sisters are watching out for her. When they see the youngest brother possibly being abused by their grandmother, every one of them rush in to save him. When Jeanette and the others are trying to assert her independence and get away from home, the siblings also support each other. They save money in secret places and create distractions while people escape. Even into adulthood, they share a special bond, forged by each of them having to survive through a crazy childhood.

“The Glass Castle” is also interesting for the way it depicts how our perception of our parents change as we grow older. As a child, Jeanette is charmed by her father's eccentric behavior. He regales her with stories of the title-lending castle made of glass he plans to build some day. He tells fables and tall tales about wolves and informs his daughter how special their family is. Yet, as she grows up, she sees that this behavior disguises a selfish personality that wrecks havoc and expects to be forgiven on account of how “wise” and “special” he is. That he's never going to change because he believes that shitty actions like these are always forgiven. It's a journey every kid goes through, of learning that their parent isn't perfect and is fallible.... But it's a journey the children of abusive parents especially undergo, realizing their dad is actually a massive asshole. 

Which makes “The Glass Castle's” last act all the more disappointing. After detailing so clearly that Rex is actually a piece of shit and that Jeanette is totally right to distance herself from him, the movie makes a baffling shift. As their father grows ill, Jeanette forgives him for his mistakes. Her and her siblings look back on their dad's shenanigans, stories, and beliefs with fondness and nostalgia. It's certainly possible for a child to try and find a compromise, between the attributes of a parent that they admire and the ways they fucked them up. Yet the way “The Glass Castle” changes so suddenly, from depicting Rex Walls as a giant jerk to a quirky mentor worthy of respect gives the audience whiplash. It feels like a bullshit attempt to end a fundamentally downbeat movie on a happy note.

In fact, you can see this strange divide in the movie's themes in its visual design too. Cretton discards the shaky documentary visuals of his previous films for something far sleeker here. The 1986 sequence are often shot in close-ups. The apartment Jeanette shares with her fiancé, and the cow-print designer chair they own, is brightly lit. In contrast, the flashbacks to Jeanette's youth – basically the worst times of her life – are filmed in warm colors and wide angles. When Jeanette's opinion on her dad begins to shift back to her childhood fondness, that glowing, autumnal warmth returns to the present scenes. The movie is doing everything it can to trick you into buying its messy tonal shift but it still doesn't work.

As a glossy, would-be Oscar flick, “The Glass Castle” certainly has a stacked cast. It's really easy to see Jennifer Lawrence playing the adult Jeanette. But Brie Larson is almost definitely better in the role than the increasingly one-note Lawrence would ever be. No, Larson is not so strong an actress to add any genuine feeling to the overwrought speeches. But Brie's humor and intensity goes a long way. A moment where an asshole in a bar attempts to seduce her is perfectly defused by Jeanette slowly revealing horrific scars from the childhood burning that occur near the movie's beginning. It's among the movie's best moments and that's largely thanks to Larson, an actress adapt at mixing vulnerability and attitude.

The film isn't just an Oscar vehicle for Larson. In fact, Woody Harrelson in the role of a troubled but brilliant father figure seems designed to win over Academy voters. This is the kind of part that certainly caters to Harrelson's eccentric strengths. He can't overcome the hacky melodrama of the script either but he still manages to find some humor – during that arm wrestling scene – and pathos – when Rex is at his drunkard lows – to the role. Naomi Watts is given less to do as Jeanette's equally brilliant but inconsiderate mother. She nails the selfish whims of the character but isn't given much of a chance to flesh the role out. It's also neat to see up-and-comers like Sadie Sink – as the teenage version of Jeanette's older sister – and Bridgette Lundy-Paine as the adult version of the youngest sister. Both clearly display some chemistry, even if these are just supporting roles.

No matter how much “The Glass Castle” clearly wanted to attract attention from Academy voters (Like most based-on-a-true-story inspirational flicks like this, it ends with footage of the real life people who inspired the performances in the movie), it was not to be. The movie received mixed reviews from critics, many of them having the exact same problem with the movie's ending that I do. The film picked up a few nominations at some minor festivals but that's about it. People tell me the book is a lot better than the movie and doesn't simplify its themes quite so much. I was enjoying the movie a fair amount up until the last third, where all its positive attributes are not enough to overcome a truly baffling scripting choice. [Grade: C+]

Director Report Card: Destin Daniel Cretton (2013)

3. Short Term 12

While attending a university in San Diego, Destin Daniel Cretton worked for two years at a group home for at-risk teenagers. His experiences there inspired him to make a short film on the topic for his thesis project. “Short Term 12,” which ran about twenty-two minutes, would also be Cretton's first cinematic project without frequent collaborator Lowell Frank. It was well received and Cretton decided to develop the story into a feature length script. This circulated at various festivals, to critical acclaim, and it wasn't long before the project went in front of cameras again. Released in 2013, “Short Term 12” is the film that would really bring the filmmaker to people's attention. 

Grace is a supervisor at Short Term 12, a halfway house for troubled and abandoned teens. She instructs Nate, a new employee at the home, not to “become friends” with the residents but she's already broken that rule herself. She has a bond with Marcus, a young man who was sexually abused by his mother and is having trouble coping with his soon-to-be-18 status. Grace also soon forms a friendship with new arrival Jayden, who is moody and artistic. As she learns more about Jayden's disturbing problems, Grace has to confront an issue in her own life: She's pregnant, the father being co-worker and boyfriend Mason.

The original short film that inspired the feature is included on the DVD. The feature is very much an expansion of Cretton's first pass on this material. All the major events of the short are replicated here, right down to specific moments like a cupcake being weaponized or someone being confused upon seeing a bloody instrument. The biggest difference is the most obvious one: The main character in the short is a large, burly man named Denim. The main character in the feature is a woman, played by Brie Larson. While the feature spends way more time developing the life the protagonist has around their job, and expanding on their relationships with their young wards, this is very much an adaptation of the earlier story.

What most impressed me about “Short Term 12” is how keenly it understands the emotional states of the troubled teenagers. Among the various residents at the titular home is Sammy, a boy about 10 or 12. He's introduced running from the building, screaming his head off. The councilors do not treat this as an unusual experience, simply holding the boy down until he works it out of his system. This is far from the only emotional outburst we see in the film. Each time, the adults approach with sympathy and understanding, waiting for the children to calm down before attempting to talk out what's upsetting them. It reminds me of the temperamental boy Cretton documented in “Drakmar.” It also reminds me of myself at that age, a ball of volatile hormones and social anxieties exacerbated by undiagnosed neurodivergence.

I also fond value in the way “Short Term 12” depicts the bond between the councilors and their troubled wards. These relationships are founded on mutual respect. Discipline is only enforced when that respect is violated. Grace, Mason, and Nate listen to the kids' problems. They seek to understand their feelings and the complex motivations behind their actions. Grace and Jayden's bond begins with when they discover they are both interested in art, growing from there. Mason listens to Marcus' raps, which are a deep expression of the trauma he's felt. When so much about behavioral psychology is still misunderstood in pop culture, it's refreshing to see a film that focuses on how empathy plays the most vital role in the profession.

You can also see Destin Daniel Cretton's clear interest in family continuing to evolve. The children living at the halfway house have been abandoned or betrayed by their own family. In the makeshift social circles at Short Term 12, they find a new family of sorts. This is true of the councilors as well, as Grace and Mason share their own special bond. Yet this is also a movie about how family can mess us up too. The cruelties and mistakes of their parents still reverberate through their children and likely will their whole lives. Most of us carry wounds like that well into adulthood. 

Probably “Short Term 12's” biggest contribution to pop culture is being another step on Brie Larson's path to becoming a huge star. Before she won an Oscar and became a Marvel superhero, Larson made her name in dramatic indies like this. It's easy to see why she'd inevitably become an A-lister. Larson has an easy-going charm in many of her earlier scene, that shows an ideal comedic timing. The sharp dialogue she trades with Jayden, while the two are sketching together, makes the character likable without sacrificing the authority she brings to her leadership role. Larson also has a talent for making Grace's insecurities bubble towards the surface. A worried look on her face or stiff posture speaks volume. 

Yet there's a problem. In the original short, the male lead expressed a reluctance towards having a child. His reasoning behind this belief was that there was already enough fucked-up kids in the world... Before finding out his girlfriend is pregnant near the short's end. In the feature, we learn that Grace is pregnant early on. Her indecisiveness over whether to tell her boyfriend or not occupies about half the movie. As does her reluctance over admitting she's already made the appointment to abort the fetus. I'll admit, I didn't find any of this particularly compelling. Grace's feelings towards the impending child is never verbalized, as it was in the original short. For a long time, it just seems like this subplot is never going to connect with the main story in a meaningful way.

This is before a series of dramatic revelations in the last act. Grace learns the exact details of what Jayden's home life is like, via a powerful scene where she tells a metaphorical fairy tale about an octopus and a shark. Instead of letting that suffice, Grace nearly commits a crime. She then flatly explains that her own father was abusive, that he's about to get out of prison. The connection between her and the younger girl are made so obvious and similar that it feels contrived. When subtly and suggestion would've better served the movie, it instead lays all its cards down. These ideas could've lingered in the brain but the movie wants to provide a big, dramatic, cathartic conclusion instead. It all feels too neat, putting too fine a point upon the ideas the story is presenting.

At the same time, some parts of “Short Term 12” feel disconnected and underdeveloped. Marcus' story was the focus of the short film, the feature repeating most of the dramatic beats we saw there. Weirdly, there's little attempt to expand on this story arc here. Stranger still, Marcus' subplot never really connects with Grace's connection with Jayden. These two plot threads just exist next to each other, never really interacting and concluding without meeting one another. It's all-the-more frustrating because Marcus' story – a sexual abuse survivor still grappling with his trauma and terrified to enter the world, acting out in hopes of avoiding his entry into adulthood – is otherwise really compelling and interesting.

Brie Larson is not the only future star that had an early appearance here. LaKeith Stanfield – early enough in his career that he was just going by “Keith” – plays Marcus. He's the only actor to reappear from the short and his talent is still readily apparent. The scene where he performs a rap he's written about his childhood is extremely affecting. Rami Malek appears as Nate, showing a sincerity and naivety that suggests both his eagerness to help and his cluelessness on how to do it. A very young Kaitlyn Dever plays Jayden, a girl trying her best to express the pain and frustration she feels. Honestly, one of the few “Short Term 12” cast members who hasn't gone on to be a big name is John Gallagher Jr., as Mason. (Though he's gone on to a pretty solid career on stage and television.) He gives a totally sturdy, even cute, performance here as the dotting boyfriend. 

As his third feature, you can clearly see Destin Daniel Cretton's visual style as a filmmaker continuing to evolve. The documentary approach he displayed in “I Am Not a Hipster” is still present here. Multiple scenes have a handheld presentation to them, as if you are watching a documentary about a home like this. Yet this is definitely pushed too far in a few scenes, when the shakiness becomes overwhelming. You'll have to excuse me: Shaky-cam immediately bothers me, even when in service of adding verisimilitude to a low-key drama like this. Also, yes, there's an extended tracking shot of the main character traveling around on a bike too.

“Short Term 12” was enthusiastically received by critics. The film ranked high on a whole bunch of year-end list, receiving a number of awards from various voting bodies. When “Short Term 12” was entirely overlooked by the Academy Awards, enough people were pissed off that the movie's Wikipedia page includes a whole section entitled “Oscar snub.” I didn't love the movie that much. There are moments that are so well acted, so well observed emotionally. Yet the script lets the characters and their inner lives down some. It's still a movie absolutely worth seeking out, even if the writing could've been smoother. [Grade: B]

Director Report Card: Destin Daniel Cretton (2012)

2. I Am Not a Hipster

By the year 2012, there was no insult more cutting than "hipster." It was a term as divisive as "Nazi" or "socialist" and, like those words, soon came to mean simply anyone the person speaking didn't like. Everybody hated hipsters. I did too, as my college girlfriend and I often disparaged them. Yet few people could even agree on what a hipster was. I've always defined it as someone who decided they were the coolest and that everyone else was insufficiently cool. Aside from jokes about "I saw [insert band here] before they sold out" and stereotypes about PBR and mustaches, few people could agree on a definition. The term was so loathed by 2012 that no one would willingly self-identify as a hipster non-ironically. Further muddening the waters was Destin Daniel Cretton's second feature, "I Am Not a Hipster."

The film is about Brooke Hyde, a musician living in San Francisco. His debut album, "Canines," became a critical darling in the local underground music scene. While his follow-up is eagerly anticipated and his work is often lauded by fans, Brooke is experiencing much personal strife. His mom recently died, causing him to self-isolate and lash out at everyone around him. He blows attempts to advertise his music and pushes away anyone interested in helping. As his sisters and father visit to help spread his mother's ashes, Brooke is forced to consider the source of his pain.

Despite the attention-grabbing title, "I Am Not a Hipster" is not a movie about hipsterism and who does or does not fit the definition. Instead, it's another entry into that often derided indie film genre of "mediocre white guy has a midlife crisis." Despite that unpromising premise, the movie actually has some interesting things to say about how people cope with loss. We never learn much about Brooke's mom but she seemingly started his interest in music. Her death causes him to question everything about his identity. His perception of self is so rooted in the pain he's feeling, that it's curdling into self-hatred. Which is further turning into general misanthropy. "People who hurt people are probably just hurting themselves" isn't the most radical of observations but it makes a strong enough foundation for "I Am Not a Hipster."

Brooke isn't just struggling with death in a personal sense. Throughout the film, he repeatedly watches footage from the 2011 Tohoku tsunami. He begins to fixate on the tragedy, often bringing it up unprompted in conversation. This reveals a deeper question anybody making art as climate change spins the world towards global calamity has probably felt: Does art even matter in a world where so many terrible things happen? While the film is tight-lipped about giving a definitive answer to this question, which Brooke asks a few times himself, it seems to conclude that art gives us the ability to contextualize the pain we feel.

This is not the only dilemma pretentious artist types feel that "I Am Not a Hipster" grapples with. Throughout the movie, Brooke meets fans of his music. They repeatedly tell him how good his stuff is, what it means to them, how important and groundbreaking his work is. This achieves nothing but making him uncomfortable. And you get the impression that this is not a recent development. As someone who is also frequently his own harshest critic, this is an impulse I can understand. It's taken years of training not to immediately self-deprecate when I receive a compliment. So I understand where Brooke is coming from there and how that tendency reflects on his own self-loathing. 

As much as I related to "I Am Not a Hipster," the film, from the combative title on down, seemingly dares the viewer not to like it. Brooke Hyde is not a likable guy. He is, in fact, an asshole. He's hateful to a radio deejay, who only wanted to promote his stuff. He insults a would-be groupie by assuming she's Japanese. He's rude to an audience at a house party. In the most prominent scene, he tears down everything his best friend and attempted manager has created at an art show. He refers to it as not real art and fluffy bullshit that distracts from the real world, heaping hatred onto everyone who makes similar artwork. This scene, the movie at its cruelest and most self-destructive, seemingly confirms that the title is a lie. Brooke, as a self-declared arbitrator of what is and isn't cool, of what is and isn't important, most definitely is a hipster. He's also, more than anything else, a massive asshole. 

Yet we see the roots of this behavior as well. In addition to his mom dying, his girlfriend also dumped him. She then started to date an electronic music DJ known as "Space Case." During an extremely awkward meeting with his ex and her new boyfriend, the guy even offers to do a remix of one of Brooke's songs. It becomes completely clear at this point that his rages against fluffy would-be art is more jealousy than anything else. Jealousy of loosing his girl to another guy and jealousy of people able to turn their brains off and engage with art that isn't so serious all the time. 

This particular subplot climaxes with a sequence where Brooke picks a fight with DJ Space Case at one of his concerts. The incredibly awkward scuffle that follows points towards something else about “I Am Not a Hipster.” It's kind of a comedy. The same sort of quirky humor that appeared in Crettin's precise, early shorts is sometimes evident here. The art pieces that Brooke's best friend/would-be manager create are clearly in that mold. Such as a portrait of his parents decorated with cigarettes. Or a video project involving mouths overlaid over eyes, each speaking nonsensical phrases. These aggressively twee subjects, especially when contrasted with Brooke's ever-present surly manner, does make for a nervous kind of comedic energy. I doubt the filmmakers behind “I Am Not a Hipster” would describe it as a comedy but it's still kind of funny.

This kind of gently mocking humor was also present in “Drakmar” and that's not the only thing that carries over from the director's documentary debut. Much like his feature debut, “I Am Not a Hipster” is also a movie about family. Long stretches of the movie center around Brooke and his three sisters. Each one has a hippy-ish name: Joy, Spring, and Merrily. Unlike the perpetually grouchy Brooke, his sisters are frequently upbeat. The film does a good job of suggesting the siblings' shared history. Such as one of the sisters' inability to keep a straight face whenever the other one is lying. We only get hints at Brooke's past or his relationship with his mother but the film does a good job at suggesting the weight these memories hold for him and how the bond with his sisters continue to inform his life.

You can see other elements carrying over from Crettin's feature here. The movie often features a documentary-like visual design. Occasionally, we can see the shaky and naturalistic camera movements. Many scenes are set inside the cramped homes of the characters, the cameras moving around everyone in a way that obviously suggest the operator's presence. This is most obvious during a scene where Brooke is riding his bike, which is very similar to a moment from the end credits of “Drakmar.” One can imagine an alternate universe version of this project which is an actual documentary about the San Francisco indie music scene. That is certainly suggested by the direction, if nothing else.

“I Am Not a Hipster” is mostly about these topics, of grief and family and grappling with a personal crisis. What it isn't, not really, is an exploration of the San Francisco music scene. Yes, there are a number of scenes where Brooke performs. The movie is framed by his proper return to the stage for the first time in a year, the rest of the story playing out in memories. We see his creative process play out several times. He designs songs in his home studio, adding layers of sounds or getting frustrated with the results. We do hear some of his songs – which are perfectly serviceable indie folk-rock – but the film amusingly allows almost none of the songs to play out in full. Brooke wanders off from a set to get a beer from the kitchen. Or is interrupted when performing for a class room. It almost feels like an ironic joke, that this movie ostensibly about music features so few complete songs.

Somebody starring in “I Am Not a Hipster” had a steep hill ahead of them, trying to get the audience to like such a deliberately off-putting lead character. Dominic Bogart – who previously starred in Crettin's short, “Deacon's Mondays” – certainly nails the stubborn, self-centered side of Brooke's personality. Yet he also does a good job at suggesting the intense vulnerability underneath this harsh exterior. The pause when receiving compliments, or other moments when he's clearly lost in thought, make it evident how uncomfortable he can be. Ultimately, Bogart's thoughtful and nuanced behavior won me over, making me relate to – if not entirely like – someone so clearly unhappy. 

”I Am Not a Hipster” would premiere at the 2012 Sundance Film Festival, to some degree of hype. The movie received decidedly mixed reviews, with some critics praising it and others being off-put by it. The latter impulse is an easy one to understand, as this is the kind of movie that outright dares the audience to dislike it. Much like the character of Brooke himself, you have to look pass the prickly outward attitude and see the softer, wounded man inside. If you can manage that – I'd understand if you can – you might find some things to enjoy about this particular motion picture. [Grade: B-]