Director Report Card: James Wan (2023)

11. Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom

I, as an average citizen, should know nothing about the business side of Hollywood. The names of entertainment company CEOs, ideally, would remain complete mysteries to me. I'm here for the art, man, not to learn about stock numbers. Unfortunately, we live in an imperfect world which means I know who David Zaslav is. Warner Brothers' 2022 merger with Discovery Media and Zaslav's appointment to the corporation's throne seems to have thrown things into chaos. WB's attempt to build their own superhero cinematic universe to rival Disney/Marvel's became a load-bearing wall in the company's existence, despite the series always trailing behind their direct competition. James Wan's "Aquaman" had been one of the few unarguable hits of the DC Extended Universe, which obviously meant a sequel immediately went into production. Zaslav, however, pinned the entire future of the franchise on "The Flash," the kind of behind-the-scenes fiascos that books are written about. (Following "Justice League," already an example of an equally staggering production clusterfuck.) By the time "Aquaman 2" made it to theaters, "The Flash" had bombed to such a degree that an entire reboot of the cinematic DC Universe was already announced. This meant "Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom" was the dying gasps of a failed endeavor, the unintentionally final chapter in an attempt to build an international brand. That's not the only reason the sequel failed to repeat the original's billion dollar success. Many other factors were involved in "Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom" being the latest victim of superhero fatigue. Few of them where the fault of James Wan and the rest of the creative team. As a genuine fan of Aquaman as a comic book character, let me attempt to autopsy what the sequel got right, what it did wrong, and why it failed to resonate with a public that ate up the first one. 

Since defeating his brother and ascending to the throne of Atlantis, Arthur Curry's life has changed considerably. He's taken Mera as his queen and beget a son, Arthur Jr. Balancing the duties of fatherhood, ruling a kingdom, and being a head-smashing oceanic superhero has been difficult though. As a global climate crisis cripples Atlantis, Arthur is faced with an old foe returning. Black Manta, still determined to take revenge on Aquaman, has acquired an ancient black trident. The weapon is possessed by the spirit of Kordax, the inhuman king of a cursed Atlantean kingdom that was imprisoned in Arctic ice centuries ago. Kordax is using Manta's hunger for revenge to burn Orichalcum, a powerful fuel source with disastrous effects on the environment, to free himself and his army. Arthur seeks out the help of an unexpected source to stop Black Manta's destructive quest: His brother Orm, the Ocean Master. The two will have to overcome their legendary sibling rivalry if they hope to save the world. 

Much of the first "Aquaman's" success, I suspect, can be attributed to the public's love of Jason Momoa's goofy dude-bro persona. Momoa's sex appeal and charm turned a character probably regarded as a joke by many into a huge moneymaker. Not unreasonably, Momoa was given more control over the sequel, first pitching an idea for a follow-up during production of the original. This means "Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom" features far more of Momoa's silly machismo. He begins the film with a monologue about how boring he finds his kingly duties and how much more he'd rather be fighting bad guys. The subsequent action scene is scored to "Born to Be Wild," among the most obvious of dad rock needle drops. Throughout the sequel, he extols the virtues of cheeseburgers, beer, and fist fights. Now that Aquaman is a dad, the sequel turns Arthur Curry into more of a meat-headed tough guy with a heart of gold that loves his son. It removes the cinematic Aquaman further from the complex character he is on the page while also showing the limits of Momoa's charms. He's amusing when doing the cartoonish surfer guy angle but the sequel is unable to add much more depth. Momoa and Arthur Curry with him becomes a more two-dimensional – and perhaps annoying at times –  caricature. 

This goes hand-in-hand with an overall goofier tone. There are multiple jokes throughout the first ten minutes about Arthur Jr. peeing in his dad's face. The image of an infant telepathically communicating via psychic waves emanating from his head crops up a few times. Topo the Octopus played the drums in one scene in the first "Aquaman," an in-joke that became an internet meme. Now Topo has graduated to a proper supporting player, leading to the hero dismissively making rude comments to the squishy cephalopod. John Rhys Davis as the Brine King, the odd crab humanoid, is given a larger role too while Storm the giant seahorse also gets the spotlight for a sequence. Arthur tricking his brother into eating a cockroach is a running gag. All of this and more contributes to a far sillier, jokier tone. Wan's first "Aquaman" didn't take itself that seriously and it was a license for the film to embrace a delightful, imaginative looseness. The sequel doubles down on the silly without raising the amusement and imagination much, making the limitations of this approach much more evident.

James Wan and David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick supposedly took inspiration from the Silver Age era of comics when writing “The Lost Kingdom.” This is fitting, as that was the era when Aquaman became one of the few superheroes to be an active family man. During that time, Mera would often accompany him on his adventures, Aqualad and Aquagirl became part of the team, and even Arthur Jr. was sometimes involved in the shenanigans under the name Aquababy. This era would come to a definitive end with issue #452 of “Adventure Comics,” published in August of 1977. That is when Black Manta murdered Arthur's toddler son, in what is surely one of the darkest events in superhero comics up to that point. It's a notorious story and one the sequel hints at, with Black Manta abducting the child in the last third. All throughout production, the question of whether “Aquaman 2” would go that far floated over it. That would certainly distinguish the film from the rest of the superhero lot.

Unsurprisingly, this light-hearted superhero adventure does not climax with infanticide. Unwilling to murder a baby, the sequel instead attempts to emphasize the theme of family. Mera getting injured by Black Manta is what drives him on this mission. His dad and mother get larger roles, with the plot eventually bending towards the two brothers learning to forgive each other. It's a nice idea but it proves to be an element more informed than depicted. Amber Heard somehow became the center point of right-wing hatred after she sued her alcoholic ex-husband with a history of erratic behavior. How exactly this effected the production of “Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom” remains largely within the realm of tabloid gossip. However, we do know that Amber Heard's role in the film was reduced during reshoots. Mera is practically a non-entity throughout long stretches of the film. Meanwhile, it's tricky to fight crime with a baby strapped to your back, meaning Arthur Jr. spends a lot of time with his granddad. Ultimately, it's hard to take the movie's claims of being about a love of family when it intentionally forces the hero apart from his wife and son for long stretches of its runtime. 

Superhero movies being subjected to extensive re-shoots and essentially rewritten in the editing room has become standard practice over the last decade. You might go so far as to call it the Marvel Method. While we can only speculate exactly on how “Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom” was re-shuffled after filming, the effect is undeniably felt. The sequel is overly burdened with exposition and back-story all throughout. Concepts – like the nature of the desert prison Orm is kept in or this mysterious fuel source Manta is exploiting – are sloppily introduced in voice-over during visual montages. Seemingly important plot points, like a plague sweeping through Atlantis and killing Willem DaFoe's Vulko, are relegated to easily missed lines of dialogue. The worst example of this occurs in the last third. The entire backstory of Kordax and the Lost Kingdom – otherwise known as the thing that gives the sequel its subtitle – is delivered in one massive exposition dump with less than an hour to go. The impression that the film had a litany of ideas and concepts to introduce, but no organic way to set them up in the narrative, occurs throughout all of “Aquaman 2.”

These are not the only ideas in “The Lost Kingdom” that seem like they are going to be important but are abandoned quickly. The opening montage suggests that weary is the head that wears the crown, Arthur finding himself ill-suited to being royalty. This is a frequent theme in the “Aquaman” comics and seems like it's going to add additional tension to the sequel's story. Arthur busting Orm out of jail potentially makes him a traitor to his own state. Instead, this idea never really builds to anything. Similarly, earlier scenes also suggest that Atlantis revealing itself to the surface is going to be a major plot thread throughout. It's not, being mentioned in this early sequence and coming back for the final sequence, but never actually being incorporated into the plot. All of this suggests that many different ideas were floated for “Aquaman 2,” some of them being incorporated into different drafts and cuts of the film, and the final result is a compromised combination of all of them.

In other words, “Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom” is a bit of a mess, clearly at the mercy of behind-the-scenes studio politics and endless re-structuring in post-production. Despite that, the movie still managed to entertain me. Once Arthur and Orm are teamed-up, the sequel becomes a rather entertaining movie in the buddy cop mold. Two guys who don't like each other, for reasons perhaps more personal than usual, are forced together on an adventure. During this wild journey, they will learn to respect each other and maybe love each other too. Watching that play out, with recovering villain Orm proving himself or Arthur risking his neck for the guy, is the smoothest element of the script. Moreover, the chemistry between Jason Momoa and Patrick Wilson provides a lot of pep to the second half. Momoa, in full-on goofy surfer dude mode, plays nicely off Wilson as the humorless Orm. That the brothers literally come from different words, and have totally different perspectives on everything, makes their dynamic juicier. When the sequel doesn't let its own overdone script get in its way, and focuses on the spark between these two, is when it manages to be most amusing.

Something that made the first “Aquaman” a lot better than expected was James Wan fully embracing the Saturday morning cartoon nuttiness of the material. While the sequel is probably too goofy overall, you can tell that the director is having a great time playing around with this mega-sized budget. Wan's loyalty to New Line Cinema meant he never got the call from Disney to work on a “Star Wars.” No matter, because Wan simply makes an underwater “Star Wars” here. A battle through the transportation tubes of Atlantis, an elaborate CGI dog-fight with high-tech vehicles patterned after various aquatic animals, brings the trench run of George Lucas' space opera to mind. The influence becomes impossible to deny once Arthur and Orm visit a seedy hang-out for pirates. Full of bizarre aquatic creatures, a colorful band of inhuman singers, and a corpulent and monstrous crime boss at the center, it's a moment clearly evocative of Mos Eisley and Jabba's palace. Both of these scenes are a lot of fun too, featuring creative applications of the underwater setting and more moments of the heroes reacting to the strange shit around them.

“Star Wars” is not the only influence that Wan wears on his sleeve here. Black Manta's base of operation is a secluded volcanic island. The burning of Orichalcum has mutated the local flora and fauna. Which means Arthur and Orm have to run through an island gauntlet of giant killer bugs and man-eating plants. Yes, Wan is allowed to get a little "King Kong" into this brew. The homage is made obvious when the two brothers have to run across a statue precariously balanced between a massive gorge. Putting some enormous, flesh-eating locusts and giant carnivorous plants in your pulpy adventure story is a great way to win me over. Moreover, this represents "The Lost Kingdom" at its most fast-paced and fleet-footed, getting laughs and thrills out of this mismatched pair running from and outsmarting some king-sized beasties. Presumably the script for "Aquaman 2" being so overloaded is why the film didn't go the extra mile and make the setting Dinosaur Island, to further the "Kong" connection.

Among the influences James Wan actually pointed out was Mario Bava's “Planet of the Vampires.” I suppose this is evident in the sequences of old, undead monsters being awoken from an ancient sleep. The finale of Kordax and his army of undead warriors is the most obvious example of Wan sneaking his horror influence into his superhero sequel. Black-boned skeletons, shrouded in green-burning fire, and wielding medieval weapons is something that could fit on a heavy metal album cover. These zombie-like elements are mixed with tentacles creatures emerging from the deep, which brings certain Lovecraftian vibes to the material. Probably my favorite horror-esque touch are those blood-drinking, skeletal warriors living in the desert and running around on bizarre, reptilian monster steeds. That was cool.

That's what sticks in my mind about “Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom.” As a comic book, action movie spectacle, it still delivers some impressive moments. The desert chase concludes with Orm emerging from the beach, Patrick Wilson's rippling pectorals returned, and an impressive melee fighting. A battle in Black Manta's base with a huge, robotic octopus vehicle features a massive anchor on a chain being swung around, a dynamic prop. When Arthur and Black Manta finally go toe-to-toe in the last act, after a whole movie building up their confrontation, the resulting fight scene features some smooth, clever camera movements as the weapons swing through the air. These moments remind us that these movies are based on comic books, of striking images strung together panel by panel.

That the action scenes are exciting are nice. However, the sequel seems to lack a convincing villain. “The Lost Kingdom” redeems Ocean Master, Patrick Wilson allowed to turn the over-the-top bad guy of the first movie into someone more sympathetic. That means Black Manta, now established as Arthur's arch-nemesis with a potent grudge, should rise to the role of proper antagonist, right? Yahya Abdul-Mateen II remains incredibly intense throughout the part, almost comically so. He is bathed with a layer of sweat in every scene, his eyes always wide as he remains utterly focused on destroying his foe. And Manta does drive the plot... By being pushed around by the ancient spirit of Kordax. The villain spends the whole obsessing with Aquaman but doesn't actually confront him until the finale. The result is that the film's antagonist feels like a flunky for an eldritch entity. Who, by the way, is defeated in a hugely anticlimactic fashion. Ultimately, try as the film might, it can't make Aquaman's comic book adversaries – whether it be his all-time most frequent enemy or the green-skinned, blonde, one-armed, accursed prince – into truly memorable characters. 

“Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom” also includes a moral about global warming. Out of control climate change is melting the polar ice caps, creating increasingly erratic weather patterns, and causing disease to spread among the Atlanteans. This is an important element to cook into your mass-appeal blockbuster, since climate change is a very real threat to all of us here in the real world. Unfortunately, there's a reason fantasy stories like this were not meant to directly address real world issues. Because the polar ice caps melting, in the DC Universe, isn't bad because it'll flood coastlines and lead to the deaths and displacements of millions... It's because it'll unleash an ancient evil. Similarly, the ice caps aren't melting because unchecked corporate greed keeps the majority of the globe dependent on fossil fuels. It's because a high-tech pirate is burning an ancient super-fuel that was locked away centuries before. The result comes off as good-intentioned but hopelessly clumsy. The moral is twisted, making real world evil an accessory to comic book supervillainy. 

The overall reaction to “Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom” seems to have been a negative one. Many seem to agree that the sequel strayed too far into its own goofiness. The controversary around Amber Heard – a manufactured attempt to disparage a woman leaving an abusive marriage, in my opinion – nevertheless stained the sequel's reputation. A vocal minority of embittered fanboys were still stung about Zack Snyder's miserabilist vision of the DC Universe being tossed aside. A combination of oversaturation and the extended pause of the COVID pandemic changing the world's priorities ended the era of superhero movies dominating our pop culture, it would seem. All these factors combined to prevent “Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom” from being a hit on the scale of the first. It's a deeply compromised, incredibly uneven movie, that probably was never meant to support the stakes placed on it. That doesn't mean there isn't some fun to be had here. Jason Momoa has hung up his trident, next scheduled to play intentionally ridiculous space biker Lobo, the DC character he probably should've been cast as from the get-go. His tenure as Aquaman – it remains to be seen if another actor will ever fill the green and orange tights – represents an interesting, sporadically fun attempt to turn the much malign superhero into a global phenomenon. [Grade: B-]

Among Wan's unrealized projects was a spin-off of “Aquman” centering on The Trench, the man-like fish monsters that popped up in a few scenes in the first movie. That shows the director's interest in horror stories about humanoids from the deep. That fascination seemed destined to climax with Wan directing a remake of “Creature from the Black Lagoon,” as part of Universal's latest attempt to retrofit their classic monster characters for the modern age. He's also working on a feature adaptation of Lovecraft's “The Call of Cthulhu,” further suggesting that gilled horrors from beyond the briny deep are on his mind lately. It's been about a year since we've heard any updates on either of those projects, so who knows if they'll make it to the screen. Until then, Wan is staying busy as a producer, shepherding other franchises and filmmakers through his Atomic Monster studio. I think Wan is mixed talent, having made some movies I liked and some I didn't care for much at all, but he's certainly a more distinctive filmmaker than I previously gave him credit for. I hope whatever he makes next is closer in tone to “Malignant” than “The Conjuring 2.”

Director Report Card: James Wan (2018)

9. Aquaman

In 1939, newsstands would be introduced to a superhero inspired by classic tales of seafaring adventure and the myth of Atlantis, ideas likely pushed into the zeitgeist by the naval battles of a quickly escalating World War II. The soon-to-be iconic character was named... Namor the Submariner, created by Bill Everett and first appearing in Marvel Comics #1, published by a company then known as Timely Comics. Two years later, in 1941, competitor DC Comics would introduce their own maritime do-gooder. First appearing in issue #73 of More Fun Comics, and created by Paul Norris and Mort Weisinger, was Aquaman. Though fairly distinct from each other in the Golden Age, the two oceanic defenders would develop suspiciously similar profiles over the years. Aquaman grabbed Namor's origin, as the offspring of a surface dweller and a runaway Atlantean royalty, while Namor swiped Aquaman's telepathic rapport with all water-dwelling animals. Aquaman survived the end of the forties' fascination with superhero comics by being the back-up feature in Adventure Comics, a book anchored by the ever-popular Superboy. That's how a long-time second-stringer – who didn't have his own book or even appear on a cover until twenty years after his introduction – would slowly eclipse his watery rival in terms of public knowledge. That boost in popularity can probably be attributed to Aquaman, now with the civilian identity of Arthur Curry, becoming a founding member of the Justice League of America in 1960. 

That led to the character appearing on the Saturday morning cartoon series, "Super Friends." That show, in one form or another, ran for twelve years. In that time, it would reach a far wider audience than the most popular comic book ever could, despite the typically subpar standards of seventies television animation. While Superman and Batman's reputation survived co-starring alongside Wonder Dog and Gleek, Aquaman's largely did not. The seemingly scope-limiting requirement that his adventures take place near water, and his powers being widely mischaracterized as "talking to fish," combined to make Aquaman a favorite target of hacky comedians for years afterwards. As late as 2004, the character was still public shorthand for a lame superhero among people who don't actually read comic books. That is the year the idea of a big budget "Aquaman" movie became a running gag on "Entourage." Such a concept was considered that absurd and improbable at the time. 

That was before the decade defining success of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, which turned relatively obscure and easily mocked characters like Hawkeye, Rocket Raccoon and Ant-Man into the stars of billion-dollar grossing movies. Punchline though he may be, Aquaman was still way more famous than those guys. This meant Warner Brothers was completely serious about developing an "Aquaman" movie as part of their somewhat late, largely ill-fated attempt to create a Marvel-like franchise around their pantheon of DC Comics heroes. And comic writers had made many attempts to rehabilitate Aquaman's image over the years. His stories got a lot more intense, his archenemy killing his infant son and his marriage to longtime wife Mera falling apart. He led the Justice League for a bit. He got a cooler costume, quickly abandoned because it was too hard to draw. In the nineties, a well-received retooling from Peter David focused on the mythic fantasy element. That brought with it an edgy new look that included a pirate-like hook hand and beard. When Geoff Johns brought back the Silver Age look and origin – while occasionally nodding at the character's status as the butt of many lame jokes – that was successful as well. Various cartoons and video games leaned into the observation that Aquaman is actually pretty cool, playing up his status as a noble king, a family man, a large ham, an environmental protector, and a legitimate bad-ass that can go toe-to-toe with Superman and Batman. By the 2010s, the likelihood of the public turning out for a big budget "Aquaman" movie seemed totally plausible. 

Thus, Warner Brothers went ahead with the idea, saying in 2013 that a film based on the character was a high priority. Aquaman would appear in Zack Snyder's hyper-grim "Batman V. Superman" before having a starring role in the behind-the-scenes clusterfuck that was "Justice League." While neither film were the hits Warner Brothers needed them to be, casting Jason Momoa as the ocean protector was extremely well received. Especially the decision to make sure the TV heartthrob was shirtless as often as possible. By this time, I was seeing the friends of my mother and other people who have never gone near a comic shop in their lives declaring they "loved Aquaman." Warner Brothers had begun using New Line Cinema's horror flicks as a place to recruit directors who could work efficiently for their superhero productions. This is how James Wan made the leap from "The Conjuring" to "Aquaman." The director chose the character because he perceived him as having lower stakes, seeing more freedom to do his own thing with a less beloved property than a better known one. This promise of "funderwater adventure" was the right instinct to follow. Utilizing the same eye for outrageous action that made "Furious 7" a billion-dollar grosser, Wan's "Aquaman" would defy the odds and also become an eight figure success.

Drawing mostly from Johns' New 52 run, "Aquaman" explains the hero's origins as the son of lighthouse keeper Thomas Curry and Atlanta, aquatic royalty fleeing an arranged marriage. Arthur grows into a defender of the seas, able to breathe underwater, swim at superhuman speeds, telepathically control sea life, lift submarines with ease, and survive freezing, crushing depths. He is reluctant to embrace his status as Atlantean royalty however. The water manipulating Atlantean warrior Mera arrives to try and recruit Arthur. His half-brother King Orm has gone mad with power, seeking to declare himself master of the oceans and start a war with the surface world. As the son of the (still missing) queen, Arthur has the right to challenge his brother for the throne. He's slowly talked into it, beginning an adventure that takes him and Mera on a quest to retrieve the magical trident of the first king of Atlantis and prevent war. 

By 2018, the formula for superhero movies had been well established. You run through the hero's origin and introduce a villain for him to tangle with, hopefully one related to said origin in some way. There's a climax full of CGI destruction, sometimes with a beam of light shooting into the heavens. By the end, our good guy fully embraces his status as a superhero, ready for further adventures in potential sequels gratuitously hinted at in this first film. Working with a script from "The Conjuring 2's" David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick and Will Beall, Wan's "Aquaman" does not challenge this set-up. Barely acknowledging that it takes place after "Justice League," frequent flashbacks establish Arthur's beginnings as the son of two worlds and his training from a wise mentor. The sequence where Mera takes Arthur to Atlantis for the first time, and he's introduced to a dazzling and technologically advanced kingdom he had no idea existed, is clearly inspired by "Black Panther." The plot eventually turns into a standard MacGuffin chase, as Arthur and Mera seek a plot device that will solve all their problems. This takes them to a number of scenic locations, the constant pursuit from Orm's henchmen allowing for frequent action set-pieces. It concludes in a massive underwater war, equal parts "Avengers" and "Lord of the Rings." Shout-outs to the comics appear right on time to get cheers out of the nerds in the audience, a bigger world and history established that future continuations can explore. 

In other words, "Aquaman" is a bunch of phooey, derivative of other movies and comfortable existing totally within the perimeters of its genre. Which isn't to say the movie isn't wildly entertaining. Wan and his team keep the approach light throughout. "Aquaman" is, in many ways, a fish-out-of-water – pun fully intended – romantic comedy. As someone raised on land, thoroughly modern and common in his attitudes, Arthur finds Atlantis to be a strange, unusual and stuffy place. Likewise, Mera is unfamiliar with surface culture. This is illustrated in a cute scene where she makes friends with a little girl in an Italian villa. The two can't stand each other at first but, as Arthur proves his worthiness and Mera lightens up a little, they fall for each other. It's a cute progression, the movie following these two misfits as they learn more about each other's world and slowly develop feelings for one another. It's a good way to introduce the audience to this world and this duo. 

Making "Aquaman" into a partial rom-com plays to its leading man's strengths. In the comics, Aquaman is usually ambiguous about his status as king and often torn between the world he was raised in and the world he was born to protect. How often he uses humor to lighten his load or how much he sees superheroing as a burden or a joy varies from writer to writer. Mostly, he's a serious guy, his wife and family keeping him grounded as he grapples with protecting the seas and tricky Atlantean politics. As played by Jason Momoa, Arthur Curry becomes a long-haired, beer-gulping dude's dude. He is a super-macho brawler who carries a secret pain about being abandoned by his mom and rejected by both the sea and the surface. Mostly, he copes by being kind of a goofball. He's a stinky smart-ass that seems dim (though actually isn't) but mostly rejects the casual sexism once associated with the surfer bro attitude. He's a modern wholesome himbo, designed to appeal to a certain population of women who like their guys hunky and hyper-masculine but also sweet and non-intimidating. This makes Aquaman into a totally different character from what exists in the comics, not dissimilar to how Thor acts in the later Marvel movies. The script bends Aquaman around Jason Momoa's celebrity image as a self-aware sex symbol and chill biker guy, also incorporating his Polynesian heritage into Arthur's backstory. As a fan of the character's traditional portrayal, it definitely took me a little time to adapt to this wildly different take on the character. Momoa's schtick is amusing and he's an affable screen presence, making it difficult not to eventually be won over by him. I don't know if it's how I would've chosen to depict Aquaman in a movie but it is, nevertheless, a winning combination. 

Wan's "Aquaman" never comments on the cultural meme of its hero "talking to fish." In fact, Arthur Curry's telepathic bond with all the animals in the sea is shown as a devastating superpower with many practical combat applications. Don't think for a minute that the movie isn't well aware of how goofy this material supposedly is. Like many modern superhero films, "Aquaman" often uses comedy to let mainstream audiences know that it also thinks this shit is stupid and lame. One of Orm's henchman gets his head dunked in a toilet bowl. The chase through Florence often pauses for disbelieving stares from the locals. Momoa often doesn't go long without cracking a joke of some kind, which doesn't stop when the stakes are high. There's been much debate over taking such an approach to comic book material. When handled badly, random slapstick comedy and constant one-liners can drain any tension or grandeur from the story, coming off as if the filmmaker is embarrassed to be working on this nerd shit and regards what he's adapting with patronizing insincerity, if not outright contempt. 

Perhaps James Wan was a little embarrassed to be working on an "Aquaman." There are definitely times when the film feels too in-on-its-own-joke. However, any director who considers Ed and Lorraine Warren to be real world defenders of good clearly isn't in any place to look down on Aquaman. For as much as the film jokes about its fantastical scenario, there's also a full-blown embracing of the wackiness of what we are seeing here. An octopus playing the drums or narwhals impaling people with their curly horns becoming deadly are silly but it's also awesome. The film is filled with humanoid fish creatures, crab men, laser guns, pocket dimensions and magical tridents. Rather than flee from the more “comic-book-y” elements of the material, the film embraces it. Aquaman rides a giant seahorse, Mera wears a gown made of jellyfish, and Orm actually refers to himself by the supervillain name of Ocean Master. The story is fully absorbed in the absurd mythology of its setting, throwing around names like Xebel and Atlan and the Brine King without any shame.

Another smart decision “Aquaman” makes tonally is packing the supporting cast with sturdy actors who never blink in the face of all this silliness. If Jason Momoa's lead performance is mostly tongue-in-cheek, he's surrounded by performers who play the material as grand opera. Nicole Kidman, as the misplaced queen, and Patrick Wilson as Orm all approach their roles as larger-than-life mythic figures. Wilson brings an edge of Olympian melodrama to his gestures and dialogue, while Kidman is totally committed to the nonsense she has to spew here. Willem Dafoe is similarly straight-faced in the even more standard role of Vulko, a generic wise mentor role imbued with Dafoe's gravelly charm. Amber Heard and Dolph Lundgren – inexplicably cast as daughter and father – aren't consumite pros on the level of Kidman or Dafoe. Heard is never as enchanting as Mera needs to be, doing better as the bitchy straight-woman to Momoa's antics. Dolph does bring some regality to a mostly thankless supporting part. Mostly, it's simply neat to see him in a high-profile film like this after years in the direct-to-video ghetto.  

As in “Furious 7,” Wan approaches the action in a largely theatrical style. The action scene in Italy feels the most like a sequence from one of the “Fast” movies, a high-impact foot chase across the rooftops of the village. People smashing through walls and buildings stand in for cars and trucks flipping and crashing. The climax of this sequence is a cool shot of Black Manta tossed from a cliff, the camera careening down the mountainside with him. The superhero genre allows for flashier special effects, of course. Mera's hard water powers lead to several novel images. When Aquaman boards a submarine under siege from pirates, the movie delights in using the tight interiors of the location to creates some comic panel-like shots. Don Burgess' cinematography suits this material much better than “The Conjuring,” the camera weaving dramatically through the CGI sets. The oceanic setting lends itself to some colorful visuals, like Atlantis being lit by bioluminescence or a flare falling through the deep.

The latter image is the climax of another high-light of “Aquaman.” On their quest to locate the mythical Trident of Atlan, Arthur and Mera encounter the Trench. That's an underwater race of monstrous fish-men, heavily recalling Lovecraft's Deep Ones and the Creature from the Black Lagoon. The set piece, of the monsters swarming around Arthur and Mera on a storm-tossed boat, heavily recalls Wan's horror work. This is not the only time the director is clearly using the superhero movie budget to indulge his inner monster kid. The plot weaves in a lost world setting, allowing some dinosaurs to appear. This is shortly before the movie throws in a proper kaiju, in the form of a Kraken-like enormous cephalopod. All of these elements are taken from the “Aquaman” comics. However, you can tell the chance to include stuff he obviously loves was probably a deciding factor in Wan choosing this superhero over The Flash or anyone else. 

In its climax, “Aquaman” fully embraces its status as computer-generated spectacle. The finale is a massive underwater war sequence, with lots of crustacean casualties, Mosasaur steeds, subaquatic explosions, and every thing that swims and crawls in the sea being weaponized. It is an unending assault on all the senses, unbearably loud and frenetic, with any number of digital effects being tossed directly into the viewer. (Literally if you saw the movie projected in 3D.)  Alternatively, it is a gleefully goofy burst of epic nonsense, the movie going out of its way to top itself in the last half-hour. Just when the film seems to have pushed past the point of total ridiculousness, it's reeled back in for the final showdown between Arthur and Orm, which smartly takes place as a one-on-one melee. If you have the patience or tolerance for superhero movie shenanigans, there's no denying that this is a well done example. I suppose it depends on if you think a fleet of murderous orcas coming to the rescue of a John Rhys Davis-voiced crab monster is delightful or intolerable. 

“Aquaman” wouldn't be a modern superhero movie if it didn't go out of its way to leave some narrative crumbs for a sequel to exploit. This is mostly apparent in the subplot surrounding Black Manta. Anybody a little familiar with the source material probably know that Black Manta is Aquaman's number one foe and most persistent enemy. Ocean Master obviously makes more sense as the bad guy for a first “Aquaman” adventure but he wasn't on the Legion of Doom, so who cares, right? The movie, smartly skipping the militant black separatist or evil autism origins, goes out of its way to establish the personal grudge between the sea pirate and the next King of Atlantis. The distinctively helmeted enemy weaves in and out of the story, never quite justifying his appearances beyond the expectation that he'll get more to do next time. Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, an actor Hollywood was really insisting on turning into a big star around this time, cranks the blustery, sweaty intensity up as high as possible in the part. It's the most blatant example of the movie setting up shit for a follow-up but, I will say, at least the suit looks really good. 

In fact, all the costumes in “Aquaman” are quite good. Arthur suiting up in the orange and green is rightfully treated as a cheer-worthy moment, while Mera and Orm's own duds look suitably accurate to the comic book source material. Rupert Gregson-Williams' score is full of sweeping themes and ear-catching melodies, adding a properly grand feeling. As a final display of the sincerity with which it approaches the characters, the end credits are accompanied by a nineties-style love ballad written specifically for the film. Obviously, I'm unusually fond of this particular strain of bullshit. Considering how little respect Aquaman usually gets as a character, his big movie only being a little self-reflectively dumb might have been a best case scenario. By no means rising above the standards of the genre, it's still a joyfully silly two hours and twenty-three minutes. Any movie that casts Julie Andrews as a sea monster is having too much fun to ultimately denied. That the public ate it up is all the more delightful to me. The “Aquaman” movie pleased this long-time fan while also making this particular corner of the DC universe appealing to a wide audience. It also beat that other aquatic superhero to the big screen by four years, once again solidifying Aquaman as the preferred deep sea defender by the public at large. [Grade: B+]

OSCARS 2025: Dune: Part Two (2024)

There was a time when science fiction, horror, and fantasy were considered “low” genres, unworthy of serious critical consideration. It was the stuff of penny pulp novels, children's comic books, campy B-movies, and Republic serials. We have sort of, kind of moved past such prejudice, if only because this same material has long since been the grist for the hyper-popular blockbuster grinder. Some printed classics of these genres have become so respected, they are now consider pieces of serious literature. Which means cinematic adaptations of them have gotten award season attention, assuming they are epic enough. After “Return of the King” won Best Picture, it's easier to accept that a “Dune” movie could wrack up Oscar nominations and not only in the technical categories. Denis Villeneuve's “Dune: Part One” was so well received that the second half of this adaptation of Frank Herbert's sprawling sci-fi saga, “Dune: Part Two,” was more or less a shoe-in for a Best Picture nominee. I, on the other hand, am painfully indifferent – perhaps even a little hostile – to “Dune” in all its forms. But I like to review all the Best Picture nominees which means I'm shipping my ass back to Arrakis for completist's sake. 

And so we return to that desert planet, with its giant worms that poop the mind-expanding space cocaine the universe's economy depends on. Exiled prince Paul Atreides and his mom have been living with the Freman, the desert dwelling natives of Arrakis. They assist them in their war against House Harkonnen, the depraved noblemen who massacred Paul's family to consolidate control of the planet. The mystical conspiracy that resulted in Paul's birth rolls forward, the prophecy of him prompting a cosmic jihad against the empire beginning to take shape. Paul himself is uncertain about his destiny but desires revenge against the Harkonnens and the Empire backing them. Him and his mother rise through the ranks of the Freman, quickly becoming revered figures. A dangerous new threat, the psychotic Feyd-Rautha, is sent to Arrakis to crush the rebellion before it's too late. There's a lot more stuff happening but that's the gist. 

One of the reoccurring plot points of fantastical fiction is the idea of a prophesied "chosen one," a hero that will rise to defeat the evil empire and birth a golden age. Herbert's "Dune" is one of the stories that made this premise so archetypal. Which is funny, as "Dune" now plays like a deconstruction of this idea. Paul is indeed The Chosen One, the one the Fremen call "Lisan al-Gaib," an outsider that will master their ways and lead them out of oppression. To the faithful, everything he says and does is weighed with importance. When he picks a Freman name for himself, it's the humble desert mouse... Before Stilgar points that "M'uad'Dib" also means "He Who Points the Way." What makes Paul Atreides different from Harry Potter or Luke Skywalker is that he's all too aware of his great destiny. Paul's birth is the result of hundreds of years of engineering and planning by an arcane order of witches, who are so complete in their scheming that Paul is not their only candidate for a messiah. By choosing to accept his fate, Paul is also aware of how his words are going to launch a bloody Holy War across the galaxy. In other words, "Dune: Part Two" shows that the following of a great hero is exactly the same as a fanatical cult. That the changing tide history usually happens from detailed planning and not mythic fairy tales of good guys overcoming bad guys through plucky determination. 

A story that deconstructs the Hero's Journey while also appearing to be a standard example of it is very interesting. Or it would be, if "Dune: Part Two" wasn't so fucking boring. The second half of Villeneuve's adaptation doubles down on everything I found intolerable about the first one. Namely, a sense of crushing ponderousness. The weird religious rituals of the Freman and the Bene Gesserit are given a lot of focus here. Paul's mom drinks a magic potion to make her a holy leader, while Paul has psychic dreams and visions. The space witches scheme and scheme while arguing amongst themselves. Some lady does Tai-Chi with a baby sandworm, in a sequence that I am sure is of some importance to something. When not lingering on the rites of magical orders, the plot follows Space Politicians considering their options on how to manipulate events to grant them the most power. These two tendencies crossbreed in a last third twist that would surely be upsetting if these characters were anything but shallowly developed pawns in this game of epic chess. I know for the people invested in this universe and its centuries of convoluted history, all of this is absolutely fascinating. I, for one, am unable to get on-board with a work so concerned with its own importance that it drowns any recognizable human emotions in reams of ideas and concepts. 

That denseness is exactly what kept Herbert's book from being successfully adapted for decades, defeating great artists like David Lynch and Alejandro Jodorowsky. Denis Villeneuve – not the kind of artist either of those guys are, in my opinion, though I do like him – defeats this in two ways: Meeting the source material on its own level, treating the epic legacies and power struggles of "Dune" with the seriousness the words demand. Secondly, he makes concessions to blockbuster filmmaking whenever he can. Paul and Chani's romance resembles an actual love story here, the two having chemistry and an emotional bond. Chani is giving a lot more agency in the story, challenging her lover's own plans. Focus is definitely given over to exciting action sequences too. While the Freman are attacking some Harkonnen vehicles and soldiers, there's a moment involving a rocket launcher that could be out of any military movie. The final boss of the first novel, Feyd, is introduced rather drolly on the page. Here, his first major scene is one of visceral gladiatorial combat. In general, there's a much more conscious effort made to include dazzling special effects and exciting action scenes, in order to alleviate the desert-like dryness of the writing. 

Ultimately, "Dune: Part Two" is most successful for me when paired with performers who understand how to work with material like this. Timothee Chalamet has brief flashes of humanity but mostly plays Paul's universe-rendering angst as petulant teenage whining. Javier Bardem had a twinkle or two in his eye as Stilgar, the leader of the Freman, but is also stuck in a role weighed down with all the pseudo-religious stuff. Zendaya approaches it exactly the same as the earthly drama of "Euphoria" or "Challengers," creating a visible disconnect her acting style and everything happening around her. Talented performers like Rebecca Ferguson, Leá Seydoux, and Florence Pugh are completely flattened by the mythic grandness of it all. 

Some people, however, emphasize the second word in the phrase "space opera." Christopher Walken plays the Emperor of the Universe like it's Shakespeare, theatrical but as lively as ever. Josh Brolin and Dave Bautista bring some blustering action movie toughness to their roles, a much needed relief. Lastly, we have Austin Butler. Looking like a Cenobite Billy Corgan and affecting the weirdest Stellan Skarsgård impression I've ever heard, Butler makes an absolute meal of every line or turn of the head he's given. He makes Feyd a hedonistic, unhinged, animal of a man and is without a doubt the single most entertaining thing in "Dune: Part Two's" nearly three hours runtime. 

Devoting so much of that belabored runtime to people whispering in hidden chambers or debating the balance of fate and power is why "Dune: Part Two" crushes me down to a material very much like sand by the time it's over. My ability to care is exhausted long before the end. That's a bummer, as an incredible amount of skill and artistry was put into this film. The special effects are fantastic, the floating space ships and massive earth-movers being properly alien feeling. The production design, make-up effects, and costumes all create an absorbing world on-screen. Any of the scenes set on the Harkonnen's home world, an entire planet of pasty goth bondage freaks it seems, are perhaps the most striking. Everything in this world is either pale and smooth like the resident's unsettling skin or black and cold like the material around them. Meanwhile, Greg Fraser ensures that the grand desert vistas of Arrakis are exactly as wide, sweeping, and striking as they should be. In other words, everyone involved in this film was determined to make this sci-fi world feel as real to the viewer as it is to the characters. 

I do admire that skill. Really, I do. If I had picked Herbert's books up as a self-serious teenage nerd, maybe I'd be as hooked on this world as all the Dune-heads out there. Alas, I used up all of those autism points on H.P. Lovecraft, Sonic the Hedgehog, monster movies and comic books. I'm tempted to say "Dune: Part Two" is too nerdy for me but the truth is I'm the wrong kind of nerdy for it. Congrats on everyone who worked on this movie. You did a great job and I'm sure some of you will receive some well-earned statues when Oscar night comes. Much like cocaine and the boundless light of Islam, it's just not for me. But, hey, we'll always have that hilarious popcorn bucket, won't we?  Look forward to hearing me make all these same gripes again when "Dune Messiah" is nominated for a shit ton of stuff in a few years. [5/10]

RECENT WATCHES: Sonic the Hedgehog 3 (2024)

I was fourteen years old when “Sonic Adventure 2” came out. This means I was right in the target demographic to find Shadow the Hedgehog appealing. In retrospect, it's tricky to overlook how calculated a character Shadow was. The “Sonic the Hedgehog” fandom was already full of original characters that were barely anymore than different colored versions of Sonic. This was an official character with almost the exact same gimmick... Except he was also an edgy antihero with a tragic backstory and a plethora of superpowers. In other words, Shadow the Hedgehog felt a lot like a cheesy original character except he was one hundred percent official. Ashamedly, this strategy worked exactly as planned. Shadow immediately became the second most popular character in the franchise, launching a hundred other O.C.s. When Sega gave him his own game, allowing him to shoot a gun and ride around on a motorcycle, it almost felt like self-parody. 

I wasn't above being caught by this. I too loved Shadow when he first debuted. However, at some point, I woke up to the blatant corporate manipulation at play here and turned on the character. However, Shadow has now been an established part of the “Sonic” universe for over two decades. I've long since made my peace with the character. I would go so far as to call myself a fan of Shadow the Hedgehog, when he's written well. However, how would the character be integrated into the cinematic “Sonic the Hedgehog” universe? That was the question on my mind as I sat down to watch “Sonic the Hedgehog 3,” somehow the third big budget theatrical adaptation of the beloved series. The latest sequel, and Shadow's much-hyped debut, has been well received by fans. What would I, an ever-shrewd old man, think of this?

Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles' peaceful lives with the Wachowski is interrupted again when G.U.N. specifically recruits the furry alien heroes. A black hedgehog from the same world as Sonic, but far more powerful, is on a rampage in Tokyo. Kept on ice by G.U.N. for fifty years, this Shadow has a grudge against the organization. He proves too powerful for Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles to defeat on their own. This leads them to forming an uneasy alliance with their greatest enemy, Dr. Robotnik. The new team soon are led to the secret base of Dr. Gerald Robotnik, the villain's grandfather and the scientist who studied Shadow fifty years ago. He recruits his grandson and Shadow into a plot to activate the Eclipse Cannon, a planet killing weapon he designed. Sonic races to stop villains new and old, the fight quickly getting personal. 

To utilize the inevitable pun, “Sonic the Hedgehog 3's” script hits the ground running. Within the opening minutes, we are being presented with Shadow's back story. Not long after that, Sonic and his friends are already dueling against the new threat. By the half-way point, we've already had alliance switches and betrayals and dramatic revelations, heroes teaming up with villains, villains teaming up with villains, and then breaking apart again. The movie breathlessly races from one plot point, and accompanying set piece, to the next. MacGuffins come and go, heroes chasing after access cards and the Master Emerald. The script looks like it's going to shove in the “Sonic Adventure 2” plot point of G.U.N. chasing Sonic before going in a wholly different direction, which then set-up dramatic heist and confrontations between the good guys. “Sonic the Hedgehog 3” rarely slows down, trying to squeeze as much into its 110 minute run time as possible. I guess this is what happens when you're attempting to tell a blockbuster worthy script but keep it within the runtime restraints of a traditional kid's flick.

Part of why “Sonic the Hedgehog 3” feels stuffed to the brims has to do with a problem that is often encountered in this franchise: There's a lot of characters here. In the returning column, we have Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Tom Wachowski, Maddie, Robotnik, Agent Stone, plus the Olive Garden guy and cameos for Wade Whipple, Maddie's sister, and the undercover G.U.N. Agent she nearly married in the last movie. To this already considerable cast, the film adds Shadow, Gerald Robotnik, Maria via the power of flashbacks, and Krysten Ritter as a new antagonistic G.U.N. commander. If the studio is going to pay recognizable actors like James Marsden and Ritter to be in the movie, it better give them things to do too. All of this must co-exist alongside the story of Shadow and Maria that the fans are truly here to see, as well as new additions these adaptations always feel the need to make. 

Part of why Hollywood struggled so long to adapt video games is because of the wildly different structural needs of both mediums. This has mostly been resolved by movies and games becoming a lot more like each other. The first two “Sonic” movies mostly invented their own narratives, drawing from the extensive back stories of the games, which probably was the best approach to take. “Sonic 3,” meanwhile, is the first movie to truly be adapted one of the game's plots, directly pulling a lot of ideas from “Sonic Adventure 2.” That doesn't mean only Shadow's backstory, as I expected. In the middle section of the film, both the good guys and villains seek access cards, the kind of fetch quest you'd fully expect from a video game. The sequel goes so far as to include the gravity switching gimmick that was so prominent in “Adventure 2's” later levels. One gets the impression that this is the movie Jeff Fowler and his team have really been wanting to make all along, rather than grafting bits and pieces of established “Sonic” elements on traditional kid movie set-ups. 

Fidelity to the source material is a lot less important to me than honoring the characters as we know them. The “Sonic” cinematic universe has increasingly revolved around the idea of family. Sonic finding his new family with the Wachowski defined the first movie, while the second was about him learning responsibility when faced with a sidekick that looked up to him and an equally powerful rival. Family continues to be a heavily touted theme, the script emphasizing Sonic's connection to Tom and how it compares to Shadow being treated his whole life as a science experiment. Robotnik ends up aligning with Gerald largely because his similar want for a bloodline. However, that is secondary to the theme the movie flatly states again and again: “Making good decisions,” as Tom puts it, especially when the world constantly tries to break your heart with its overwhelming awfulness. In other words: Shadow and Sonic both have great power but only one of them has learned great responsibility from a father figure. 

While this is the kind of easily grasped themes and ideas you'd expect from a kid's movie, repeated enough times for the little ones to pick up on it, I do think “Sonic the Hedgehog 3” actually pays proper tribute to its emotional center. The sequel is seriously invested in Shadow the Hedgehog, particularly how the loss of Maria weighs on him. A surprising amount of time is devoted to establishing Shadow and Maria's relationship, via lengthy flashbacks. Though hassled with the franchise's continued obvious soundtrack picks – why is a scene in the seventies featuring a Traveling Wilburies song? – these moments are genuinely adorable. When Maria is inevitably killed, the pain Shadow feels is sincere. As sarcastic as these films get, the emotional stakes remain one hundred percent serious. I didn't expect a “Sonic the Hedgehog” movie to feature a touching depiction of overcoming grief and learning to live beyond that heartache but here we are. 

When it was announced Keanu Reeves was cast as the voice of Shadow the Hedgehog, people got excited. This struck me as a little odd. I know Keanu is a beloved pop culture icon these days and I love the guy too. He's not truly a voice actor though, “Toy Story 4” aside. Much like Idris Elba as Knuckles, I can definitely feel some of that awkwardness coming through Reeves' performance. However, Keanu manages to find the heart of the character before the film is over. Ben Schwartz' take on Sonic is well established by now, the actor even getting a chance to stretch his dramatic legs a bit in this installment. I do wish Elba as Knuckles and Colleen O'Shaughnessey weren't increasingly sidelined by the story though, another side effect of the film having so many characters in it.

Following “Sonic the Hedgehog 2,” Jim Carrey announced his retirement and the character's fate in that film seemed potentially final, should the star really not come back. Well, Carrey loves money enough to return for part three, as both Robotnik and his grandfather. This means we get a double-dose of Carrey's manic comedy. The make-up effects that transform him into the 100 year old Gerald are good. In general, the illusion of one actor playing two characters that often interact is pulled off successfully. While Carrey's clownery is amusing, there are multiple moments when his buffoonery becomes difficult to sanction. A dance sequence among security laser or the increasingly nutty finale feel like moments when the star's chaotic energy take over the movie, to its detriment. Robotnik also gets a genuine character arc and I'm not sure Carrey is able to pull it off in-between all his extended mugging. 

Another reason “Sonic 3” feels a little overstuffed is because it has to make room for its human co-stars. Tom and Maddie get a sequence devoted to themselves, in which they sneak into a G.U.N. building in London. It is an inessential sequence, to say the least. Ritter, a decent actress, is given very little to work with as Rockwell. She's simply another obstacle for the heroes to run around. In general, the tension between what the fans most want to see – Sonic and his friends doing stuff – and the need for these films to be live action family-friendly comedy continue to make these unsteady affairs. Except for Lee Majdoub's agent Stone, whose role as Robotnik's loyal sidekick has expanded naturally into a full-on homoerotic will-they-or-won't-they? Majdoub and Carrey's banter continues to be a highlight of these movies.

My continued suspicion that these films would be a lot better if they were entirely animated is furthered by the last act. That's when “Sonic 3” becomes a colorfully directed action flick, the CGI hedgehogs blasting around the world and into outer space with enough verve to outclass some recent, bigger budget superhero flicks. The film also makes sure to get a prominent song on the soundtrack, once again suggesting that Fowler knew exactly what kind of fan service he had to include. I have a lot less investment in “Sonic Adventure 2's” plot than most but it was nice to see a “Sonic” movie truly push the limits of what its hero can do on-screen.

That evident desire to give people exactly what they want continues into the inevitable sequel baiting mid-credits scene. The “Sonic the Hedgehog” movies continue to exist in a bizarre space between special effects driven spectacles and goofy kid movies full of wacky comedy. The compromise agreed upon to make these movies possible continue to stick out badly. If I had seen this during the peak of my teenage Shadow fever, I probably would have loved it. “Sonic the hedgehog 3” feels like a movie primarily made for those people. The older I get, the more ambivalence I have towards franchises existing primarily to appease fans and activate nostalgia-driven dopamine rushes... From a simple factor of loyalty to the source material and on-screen flash, “Sonic 3” is easily the best entry in the series. How I'll feel about it in the future remains to be seen. But at least it beat the "Lion King" prequel at the box office... [7/10]

Director Report Card: James Gunn (2023)

6. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3

James Gunn's career continues to defy expectations. The guy who got his start making movies at Troma, who then directed two box office failures full of gore and antisocial behavior, directing two mega-budget Marvel superhero movies about an obscure, weird team of characters was unlikely. That he got fired by Disney over a troll campaign was even crazier, immediately leading to him getting picked up by Marvel's biggest rival in the superhero movie business. Gunn was then handed the keys to the entire DC Universe, going full-steam ahead with a slate-wide reboot. You'd expect that to be the end of his relationship with Disney. Yet even the otherwise mercenary Mouse House must've recognized that Gunn's sensibilities were an important part of the success of the "Guardians of the Galaxy" series. They hired him back long enough to finish the story he started. And while superhero movies in general haven't been doing great this year, "Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3" has still been acknowledged as the highlight of 2023's capeshit line-up.

Following the events of "Endgame," and having his beloved Gamora killed and replaced by a variant from a different timeline, Peter Quill is depressed. The leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy has been drinking while his teammates turn Knowhere into a proper city state. That's when a super powerful jerk named Adam Warlock flies out of the sky and body slams Rocket. Warlock is there under the orders of the High Evolutionary, a cosmic mad scientist obsessed with building perfect beings and worlds. The Evolutionary created Rocket and he wants his brilliant brain back to fine-tune his latest planet. He also built a copy protection into Rocket's body, preventing the Guardians from healing him. Thus, the team goes on another intergalactic quest to confront the High Evolutionary and save their friend. Along the way, they get back in touch with the Gamora that isn't theirs. 

What makes James Gunn an auteur, in a superhero movie landscape that runs on for-hire directors, is his need to revisit themes again and again in his movies. The "Guardians" films, "The Suicide Squad," "Peacemaker," and even parts of "Super" is the idea of misfits, people who have done awful things and believe themselves unworthy of forgiveness, coming together with other misfits to form improvised family. In its third volume, the "Guardians" story has fully embraced this element. Here, the Guardians are driven by their mutual love for Rocket and a desire to save him. All throughout, the characters call each other friends and family. They talk about love repeatedly. They bicker constantly but always come back together. The sequel's most touching moments are some of its smallest. Such as the ever-blunt Mantis erasing Drax's memory after admitting she thinks he's dumb. The always stoic Nebula breaking into tears upon learning Rocket is okay. Groot embracing his friends by extending his tendrils all the way around him. These moments are only meaningful because they re-enforce the ideas built upon in the previous movies. "Vol. 3" has earned the right to be sappy, because Gunn and his team have taken their time to develop these guys, to let us understand where they are coming from and why they act like this. They put in the work, so a climatic sequence of everyone saying they love each other is exactly as powerful as it should be and not insincere sentiment. 

Throughout the previous appearances of the Guardians of the Galaxy, we've gotten a pretty good idea of where everyone came from... Except for Rocket. The trilogy capper delves into the back story of the team's cantankerous raccoon mechanic. And it's a story full of vivisection, agonizing torture, cruel experiments, and loosing the only friends you've known. The film smartly cuts back and forth between the present story, of the gang trying to save Rocket, and his own recollections of this early life. This structure smartly keeps us hooked to both narratives, eager to see how Rocket got to be this way and whether or not he has a future. It also keeps the incredibly depressing backstory from dragging down the pacing too much, as fun action scenes and comedic dialogue are spaced between the weightier flashbacks.

Earlier this year, some questioned whether including such a violent, traumatic backstory in a film that had Happy Meal tie-ins was wise. Yet the severity of Rocket's origins tells an important story about empathy. In order for every misfit to be accepted into the Guardians' fold, it means overcoming your initial judgement of someone and understanding where they came from. You see this play out in Adam Warlock's subplot, who learns to treat other living things with respect by bonding with a fuzzy, dog-like space critter. That it's an animal that changes Adam's heart is important, as "Guardians 3" is a movie ultimately about extending empathy to animals. This is why the creatures that suffer the High Evolutionary's cruelest, most casual tortures are animals. It's why Mantis reaches out a loving hand to a fearsome monster late in the plot. It's why the film's climax centers around rescuing a whole horde of animals. It's even why the jokiest of story threads is about Cosmo, the psychic Soviet space mutt, begging for forgiveness. I wouldn't be surprised if this blockbuster flick turned some people into vegetarians. 

If animal rights is the main thing on Gunn's mind with “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3,” it's clearly not the only thing. The intentions become apparent when he has the movie's villain refer to one of its heroes, the raccoon that motivates much of the plot, as his “intellectual property.” Gunn got fired from the franchise he made so successful and so singularly his own. In that brief interim, Disney threatened to bring in another filmmaker to film the script he had already written. High Evolutionary wants to cut out Rocket's brain and use it to make his other creations “better,” which also can't help but make you wonder if Gunn is commenting on how his style has largely been grafted to other Marvel properties, like “Thor” and “Ant-Man.” Considering how critical so many people are of Disney/Marvel's role in forging our modern age of “IPs” and “content,” this thread line throughout “Guardians 3” feels very much like Gunn is biting the hand that feeds him a bit.

But maybe that's giving the guy too much credit. The filmmaker clearly has, and continues to have, no problem working with recognizable brands. Yet Gunn's relationship with properties like Marvel and DC has always been more melancholic than many of his contemporaries. Once again, the director and his team finds something meaningful in the nostalgic, pop culture debris that litters his hero's life. Star-Lord, as always, decorates his living quarters with reminders of his youth, like ALF stickers. When the team arrives at Counter-Earth, it's modeled after America in the 1970s. Seeing a suburban neighborhood, outfitted with retro cars and fashion, populated with mildly grotesque humanoid animals causes Quill's reflection on his childhood – and our own cultural fascination with our recent past – to be seen in a new light. Maybe the past wasn't so idyllic. Maybe it was just as strange as the world is today.

While there's been lots of complaints about the generic cinematography and forgettable CGI effects, the “Guardians” movies have always been a cut above. This continues to be true in the third installment. Gunn, clearly a lover of practical creature effects, packs the movie full of as much physical costumes and sets, as well as weird make-up jobs, as possible. The half-human, half-animal residents of Counter Earth are brought to life through lovingly grotesque practical make-up effects. The vampire bat family or little goat girl the Guardians meet look more like realistic fusions of animals and people than cute, marketable stuffed toys. The true visual centerpiece of the movie is when the heroes infiltrate the High Evolutionary's corporate headquarters, a space station made of organic matter. A giant tumor-like structure floating through space or security guards wearing armor that resembles bubbly crab shells are the kind of highly imaginative visuals I don't always expect from our modern comic book movies. Gunn embraces the weird side of the Marvel universe to great effect here. 

The High Evolutionary proves to be a fascinating villain too. He presents the exterior of someone totally under control, determined to show only his most civilized side to the world. Yet that mask often cracks, such as when he comes crawling to Rocket's cage in the middle of the night, practically in tears from desperation. Or any time he displays his God-like sway over his creations, clearly relishing his power over them. Chukwudi Iwuji nicely balances these two sides. The obsession with becoming a God-like creator stems from the Evolutionary's belief that there is no god. And he intends to fill that role. He sees the universe as a chaotic, ungainly mess that has grown out of control. He intends to take it apart and put it back together into something he deems perfect, even if it means he has to destroy everything and start over again repeatedly. It's the kind of villainous motivation that is clearly at odds with the ethos of these films, which follow outsiders and misfits that clearly wouldn't fit into such an idealized worldview. 

The villain's desire to fill the void left by a non-existent god isn't a viewpoint necessarily reflected by the film around him. What role the divine plays in the Marvel Cinematic Universe has never exactly been defined, if the possible exception of "Eternals." "Guardians Vol. 3" doesn't definitively provide any answers... Yet it suggests there's a life beyond. While at the point of death, Rocket is reunited with his loved ones. He's told that his story isn't over yet. That there's more for him to do among the living. This is well-trotted narrative trope but, in a film so concerned with whether a higher power exists and what role they serve, it's an especially meaningful scene. The exact existence of God isn't answered but the script does decide that we mortals have a purpose, that there is more to life than our physical existence.

That "Guardians Vol. 3" looks towards the afterlife is fitting. This is a film all about endings, including that ultimate ending of death. This manifests in the literal sense, of Rocket confronting the trauma of the first family he ever had dying and finally learning to move pass that agony. It's answered in a more figurative sense, of Peter mourning the death of his and Gamora's love, of learning to move beyond that loss. Ultimately, as the film moves towards an ending that brings this particular trilogy to a conclusion, this message extends to us, the viewer. We have to move on from these characters too, the film bringing their journeys to a far different place than they began in. Even if, as everything does in this cinematic universe, the story must go on in some way. But it's clear that, at the very least, James Gunn has finished telling his story with these characters.

It's probably for the best that the "Guardians of the Galaxy" saga has come to an end, strictly from a practical perspective. These are ensemble movies and the ensemble has gotten bigger with every installment. Somehow, "Vol. 3" manages to stay focused on moving its story forward while still giving everyone something to do. Star-Lord gets a juicy arc of overcoming his grief over Gamora's loss, while still giving Chris Pratt a chance to show off the easy-going charm that made the character a fan favorite in the first place. Zoe Saldana essentially plays a different character, allowing Ganora to be far gruffer and more of a rogue than ever before. The script builds some wonderful interactions between Dave Bautista's Drax and Pom Klementoff's Mantis, the two's oddball comic energy enlivening quite a few smaller moments. Such as when they infiltrate OrgoCorp or the way Drax proves himself to be surprisingly useful in the last act. I guess the truth is we love these guys by now. The cast and crew has such a sturdy grasp on who they are and how they work within this group. Watching them play off each other and be themselves is still a delight, because they've been crafted with such care. It allows the movie to have moments of hugs emotion, enormous action set pieces, and little jokes about car doors or couches. 

It's a big galaxy. The film even manages to find time for cameos from Sylvester Stallone. One of the joys of this series is that each corner is filled with something weird or interesting, like a guy with a carrot for a head, a henchmen being a hideous pig monster, or Nathan Fillion as a grumpy security guard. Among the new additions, Rocket's extended family of hideously mutilated animal friends are the most touching. Lyla the Otter, Teefs the Walrus, and Floor the ugly bunny monster all prove to be so lovable and fully realizes in such a limited amount of screen time. If any new additions to the cast doesn't totally work, it's Will Poulter as Adam Warlock. Adam Warlock is a pivotal character on the cosmic side of Marvel Comics. Poulter's version, a superpowered man-child with a limited understanding of the world, doesn't resemble the 616 counterpart much. In a film with so many characters and so many moving parts, Warlock comes off as something of an afterthought. His character arc, of learning empathy through a cuddly dog-thing, isn't as well realized as the other cast members. Poulter is funny in the part. Yet this ultimately feels like a character included more because the last movie's post-credit scene promised him and less because he was necessary to the story. 

As much as Gunn is focused on telling his heartfelt story with these oddball stories amid a wide, cosmic canvas, these are still superhero movies. There are certain action movie expectations to fulfill. The same imagination that powers the movie's sci-fi universe is on display in its action scenes. Groot sprouting wings after Star-Lord takes a dive from the villain's command ship proceeds an impressive shoot-out. A fluid action sequence has the entire time ripping through a hallway of enemies, sometimes rather literally, while the Beastie Boys blare on the soundtrack. The unique powers of the Guardians are nicely utilized throughout, such as Craglin mastering Yondu's magic arrow or Mantis using her empathetic abilities to distract her opponents. There's lots of explosions and space debris but the film is determined to make each one count. 

At this point, the “Guardians of the Galaxy's” soundtracks are as important to the movies as any of the writing or directorial decisions. The "Awesome Mixtape Vol. 3" selection is more eclectic than previous collections, owing in-universe to Quill upgrading to a Zune. The songs are pulled from multiple decades of pop history, providing a wider soundscape for the film. The opening choice, of an acoustic version of "Creep," takes us right inside the melancholy and isolation Rocket feels every day. Later on, the raccoon sings along to The The's "This is the Day," providing a more hopeful sense of introspection. Overall, the mood here is a lot more contemplative, with the dreamy reflection of Flaming Lips' "Do You Realize?" being a typical example of the general feel the soundtrack provides. Spacehog's "In the Meantime" got the highly promoted trailer spot, which was a fitting choice as the song's astral quality suits the cosmic setting. Which isn't to say there aren't plenty of upbeat tracks. Several bursts of propulsive pop music energy is provided by classic songs by Heart and Rainbow. The best action beat in the movie is set to "No Sleep 'til Brooklyn," which couldn't be a better combination of visuals and music. Probably my favorite needle drop is a deep cut from Alice Cooper, a sweeping but mildly sinister track that pairs fantastically with the introduction of the darker side of Counter Earth. Overall, it seems Peter Quill has gotten pretty into alt rock and post-punk, as the Replacements, the Mowgli's, and X all put in appearance.

The Marvel Cinematic Universe is clearly on the downslope in 2023, so it's hard to say what role with superhero movies will play in the near future of American blockbuster films. Yet, as we look back on this moment in pop culture history, it's clear that Gunn's "Guardians" movies will stand out from the rest of the pack. They've always been more personal, more heartfelt, and more singular than the rest of the caped lot. "Vol. 3" is as bold as the others, in some ways a more thematically ambitious and character driven experience than the other two while sacrificing none of the crowd pleasing theatrics we expect from movies of this statute. If this truly is the last time we'll see these characters, at least together like this, it's a good note to take them out on. [Grade: A]