CULTURE
What's revised in a Revisionist Western?
The critically-acclaimed comic book film, Logan (2017) altered the Western genre by its reinvention of Shane (1953) and the classic Hollywood stereotypes, as its eponymous protagonist finds conflict from the dangerous society and his uncertain future.
Shane follows the classic Western trope of the ranch story: the titular character stumbles upon the Starrett family and helps them deal with the greedy locals, the Rykers. The opening and final shots of the film place Shane (Alan Ladd) in the mountains, which symbolize the obstacles ahead in his picaresque journey. Shane portrays several common Western elements, from a vulnerable wooden fence separating civilization from nature, to the gun, which acts as the arbiter of justice and skill. Shane says, “a gun is a tool...a gun is as good or bad as the man using it,” which describes his character. This laissez faire approach helps distinguish the heroism and justice of Shane, who never draws his gun first or seeks violence. Characters in Shane and pre-revisionist Westerns are one-dimensional: villains appear dirty, slim and dressed in black (Wilson), whereas heroes look handsome and clothed in white (Shane). Masculine characters gravitate towards violence: the young Joey Starrett (Brandon DeWilde) idolizes Shane and wants a gunslinger life more than anything. Although Shane advises Joey to “leave a thing like this alone,” he teaches him to shoot nonetheless. Joey fulfills a sidekick role in the end, as he points out a villain aiming to shoot Shane, who vanquishes all the evil in the town before setting out on his next journey. After his climactic stand-off, Shane leaves wounded, but not killed, riding off into the mountains and vanishing into myth.
Logan opens in 2029 at the El Paso-Mexico border and follows Logan / Wolverine (Hugh Jackman) as he tries to find shelter in a violent world set against his genetic race of mutants. Logan spends his days as a limo driver and cares for his elderly superhuman mentor, Charles Xavier (Patrick Stewart), as he saves money for a boat to leave civilization. Soon, Logan gets hired to transport a young girl, Laura (Dafne Keen), to safety from a biotech company searching for her. Logan discovers that Laura is one of the world’s last mutants, created from his own DNA, which elevates the film beyond convention in its emphasis on character. Reflecting on their situation, Logan tells Charles, “There are no new mutants...maybe we were just God’s mistake,” indicating his somber outlook. His ability to heal diminishes, too, in addition to his depression, and his friend, Caliban points out, “Something’s happening to you, Logan. On the inside,” after discovering a bullet in Logan’s possession. Logan struggles to accept the modern world’s obsession with superheroes, remarking, “In the real world, people die.” Over the course of the film, Logan learns to care for Laura and ultimately sacrifices himself so that she and her fellow mutants can survive. Logan functions as a Western in theme, but not substance, ending in a funeral rather than a triumphant walk into the sunset.
Logan and Shane both emerge as solitary and damaged foils searching for meaning in a violent world. While Logan clearly honored Shane in its similar structure, it blatantly pays homage early on when Laura and Charles watch the final scene of Shane in which Joey unsuccessfully pleads for Shane to stay. Joey and Laura appear as foils of the sidekick character: Joey desires gunslinger glory and leaving his normal life, while Laura desires normalcy and leaving her superhuman life. The Starrett family in Shane gets mirrored by the Munson family in Logan, as both provide sustenance and shelter to the traveling protagonists on their ultimate journey to the afterlife. The villains both dress in black, from the dirty and lanky Wilson in Shane, to the menacing mutant X-24 in Logan. While Shane encourages the masculine violence in training Joey, Logan tries to teach Laura to defy it. After learning Laura has hurt people, Logan says, “You’re gonna have to learn to live with that…[bad or good,] all the same.” In terms of their destination, Shane asserts he’s traveling to “someplace I’ve never been” in classic adventurous form, while Logan seeks isolation, since “bad shit happens to people I care about.” Logan asserts this to Laura near the end, saying, “I never asked for this. Charles never asked for this. Caliban never asked for this...And they’re six feet under the ground,” defining his characteristically-bleak approach.
The final scenes in Logan and Shane represent capstones to their respective eras, offering different interpretations of the Western. Shane ends amiably, as he saves the town from greedy despots and assassins and heads out on his next journey with only a wound to show for it. Logan defies this convention to heartbreak effect: Logan faces off against a heartless clone of himself (a literal foil) and dies horribly from impalation on a tree stump (which Shane cuts down in the Starrett’s land in Shane). Before dying, Logan tells Laura, “Take your friends. They’ll keep coming. You don’t have to fight anymore. Go. Don’t be what they made you,” which completes his tragic evolution from careless to compassionate. After a lifetime of suffering, Logan feels peace with his final words: “So this is what it feels like.” Amidst a swelling musical score, the children erect a burial monument for Logan, with Laura reciting the lines from Shane’s ending: “there’s no living with a killing. There’s no going back from one. Right or wrong, it’s a brand. A brand sticks.”
Revisionist Westerns, like Logan, depict realism over romanticism and question common Western themes, such as violence and the closeness of death. Shane presents an exemplary hero who uproots evil in a masculine-driven world where bloodshed and gunslinging enact respect. Logan follows a damaged soul who sacrifices himself for the proliferation of a new, diverse generation that can be better than he was. Death in Logan and Revisionist Westerns reflects real life, and Logan dies knowing his legacy lives on, as he was the end of an era.
Sean Kelso is the founder & editor-in-chief of Greyscale.
The Ecological Horror of “Dances with Wolves”
Dances with Wolves tracks the evolution of Lieutenant John Dunbar (Kevin Costner) into the eponymous character, while being told from a uniquely ecological perspective. Richard White’s “Animals of Enterprise” argues that animals became a symbol of the past West and were commodified for industrial purposes, which is clearly attacked in Costner’s reinvention of the Western film. Dances with Wolves follows Dunbar from a Civil War camp to the dangerous frontier and reinvents the Western myth from one of opportunity and advancement to one of devastation and loss.
Westerns typically only use nature as a location, but Dances with Wolves presents nature as a central character. In an introductory scene in the film, horses are seen branded with “U.S,” a direct confirmation of White’s statement of horses as indispensable labor tools for the nomadic Europeans. Throughout the film, Dunbar’s horse, Cisco serves as a transitory device between European commodity, which White referred to as a “sentient tool,” and the Indian view as a respected cohabitant of earth (p.238). Dunbar serves as a pivot from frontier civilization to harmonious tribe life, as he treats animals as fellow citizens in an interconnected society, rather than “movable creatures of the biosphere” (p.238). The white soldiers in the film are concerned with one-sided victory and conquering the Western frontier, whereas the Sioux maintain minimalism in their ways. The first shot of the Sioux village reflects this: huts, horses, and rivers all remain balanced in the frame as uplifting, approving music arises. Costner’s presentation of the wolf Two Socks as friendly, playful, and dependable is the opposite of the typical wolf as a “competitor or predator on the domestic livestock” (p.269).
SMLXL
White expansion does not directly kill the Indians in Dances with Wolves—the epilogue credits scene does that—but it does slaughter animals relentlessly, from Two Socks to Cisco to bison. The audience’s first glimpse at bison—eroding, poorly-skinned for pelts and laden in pools of blood—is the result of careless white men, which is in-line with White’s description of how “hunters initially did not even know how to skin the animals” (p.248). Dunbar comments, “Who would do such a thing...It was a people without value and without soul,” while devastating, somber music swells with the grief seen on Indians’ faces. White’s comment on the routine slaughter of “more bison than [whites] could skin” is clear here, as the white men of the film only relate to the natural world through violence (p.248). The Sioux viewed animals as “other-than-human persons with whom relationships were social and religious instead of purely instrumental,” however, practicing extreme moderation and respect towards the bison which they depended on for all facets of their society, from food to clothing (p.236). In the film, the sordid white men find fun and excitement out of killing and plundering the land, from gleefully shooting at Two Socks, to Spivey trying to steal Dunbar’s Indian necklace and diary.
Costner frames Dances with Wolves as a conversion story from John Dunbar to Dances with Wolves, establishing a contrast between the modest Dunbar and the excessive white soldiers. Although Dunbar fails to commits suicide at the outset while riding Cisco with Jesus-like imagery amidst Confederate gunfire, his metaphorical death as a barbaric white man begins immediately. His guide to his new assignment at Fort Sedgwick is White’s “beastial” man—a crude and selfish slouch, who Dunbar calls “possibly the foulest man I’ve ever met” (p.236). Upon investigating Fort Sedgwick, Dunbar is horrified at the destruction of the land and rotting deer, remarking “I can make no sense of the clues left me here.” Costner wisely uses a panning shot from Dunbar’s initial view to slowly reveal the horrifying scale of waste that the previous settlers left. After an extended introduction and assimilation with the Sioux tribe, Dunbar finally claims their moniker Dances with Wolves after their shoot-out with the Army soldiers at the river. After repeated beration by the soldiers, Lieutenant Dunbar metaphorically dies at the river, leaving all remnants of his former life behind in his diary floating downstream, freeing him from the strains of white civilization. Dunbar makes this clear, saying “I’d never really known who John Dunbar was. The name had no meaning,” completing his transformation from the intolerant, industrialized white civilization to the serene Indian tribe. Thus, Dances with Wolves can be seen as an ecological outcry against the senseless greed of the frontier culture that permeates industrialized America to this day.
Sean Kelso is the founder & editor-in-chief of Greyscale.
‘Dune’ delivers an epic adaptation for devotees and newcomers, alike
Denis' Villeneuve’s ‘Dune’ is an electric breath of fresh air to the pandemic exhibition era, doing the unthinkable in achieving an honest, bombastic adaptation of Frank Herbert’s mythical novel.
The story of ‘Dune’ from page to screen has been notably rocky. Many know the story of the largely panned 1984 David Lynch ‘Dune,’ which many novel fans found insufferable and many casual viewers found disorienting. Director Denis Villeneuve (‘Arrival,’ ‘Blade Runner 2049’) has spoken frequently about the profound influence Herbert’s Dune had on him as a child, and his passion shines through from start to finish in this 2021 version. Since Frank Herbert changed the sci-fi genre with Dune’s publication in 1965, the pop-culture impact has been largely dampened and copied. Most notably, Star Wars was influenced deeply by the novel and succeeded in translating key themes into the public consciousness and claiming them as their own, from mystical voice control to magnificent space empires to Campbellian heroes transported to alien worlds.
For the unacquainted, ‘Dune’ tells the story of the trials of the Atreides family in the cutthroat galactic empire, through the lens of Paul Atreides, heir to the throne. Paul’s father Leto accepts the Emperor Shaddam IV’s offer of inheriting control of the planet Arrakis / Dune, which produces the essential spice, melange, that the universe depends on. The ruthless Harkonnen family, a sworn enemy of House Atreides, is revoked stewardship over Dune, and political warfare ensues, threatening all involved. Unlike the 1984 adaptation, Villeneuve’s ‘Dune’ cuts the novel in half, relishing in the rich universe and narrative rather than rushing to any conclusions.
While this adaptation is a loyal translation of the seminal novel, Villeneuve makes several important and intuitive changes to modernize this tale. The strength of women was a core element of the novel, with the power seen with Lady Jessica, the Bene Gesserit order, and fierce Fremen warriors. Villeneuve brings women to the center of this story, as Lady Jessica and Chani are core characters here, and their presences illuminate the motivations of chief characters, Paul and Leto Atreides. The narrative follows the Atreides family leaving their home planet of Caladan and inhabiting Dune, and the colonialistic history of Dune is explored beautifully. In initial encounters with the Atreides family, the Fremen are understandably questionable of these outsiders’ motivations with the planet, and the conflict between cultures is a key theme throughout this saga.
Timothée Chalamet as Paul Atreides, Rebecca Ferguson as Lady Jessica Atreides
While the script brings the tale forward in a faithful way, the cinematography and sound design awaken this film in extraordinary fashion. Cinematographer Greig Fraser (‘Zero Dark Thirty,’ ‘Rogue One’) shoots this film in Roger Deakins-style, with ornate dances of light, sweeping landscapes, and well-mixed CGI and practical elements. The visual effects on this film are simply astounding, and the advanced ornithopters, spice harvesters, and galactic ships seen in this fictional world are totally believable on a scale beyond even Star Wars. Hans Zimmer delivers a score that feels futuristic, classical, and even wholly alien at the necessary moments. Zimmer blends electronic synth tones with blaring percussion to elevate these galactic stakes and foreign planets to great success.
Like his past explorations in the sci-fi genre, director Denis Villeneuve has a strong hand over the terrific ensemble’s performances here in ‘Dune.’ Timothée Chalamet is a worthy Paul Atreides, inhabiting the contrasting cold sense of dread at his prophetic future along with his warm, undying loyalty to his birth family and adopted Fremen family. Oscar Isaac and Rebecca Ferguson are rich as Leto and Jessica Atreides, respectfully, giving strong anchors for Paul to grow from in his journey. Jason Momoa is arguably at his best here as Duncan Idaho, the fierce warrior that mentors Paul, along with Josh Brolin’s loyal Gurney Halleck. Stellan Skarsgård was notably excellent as the repulsive, conniving Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, giving an imposing, memorable turn as a far-out character. The mentats Thufir Hawat (Stephen McKinley Henderson) and Piter De Vries (David Dastmalchian) were serviceable, but underused here compared to the source material.
From left: Josh Brolin as Gurney Halleck, Oscar Isaac as Leto Atreides, Stephen McKinley Henderson as Thufir Hawat.
Viewing this film as a lifelong fan of the literature felt intoxicating and emotional. Denis Villeneuve managed to reimagine this world in glorious fashion, with a seamless combination of the real Wadi Rum desert with futuristic visual effects. While the pandemic trend pushed distributors dangerously close to streaming, seeing ‘Dune’ on the big screen was a religious experience, as sound and picture collided to transport me to a world I had envisioned for many hours alone when reading my dog-eared copy of Herbert’s masterpiece. While Warner Bros. have handicapped this film’s box office potential with its day-and-date release on HBO Max, I have hope at the time of writing that this story will be granted its conclusion in a sequel, as the global response has been quite strong thus far. As much credit as this groundbreaking achievement deserves, the final credits leave much unfinished in this narrative, which further necessitates the story to continue. Alas, I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer.
Sean Kelso is the founder and editor-in-chief of Greyscale.
The Ten Best Films of 2019—Sean Kelso
2019 was a historic year for Disney's box office: Avengers: Endgame became the highest worldwide release of all-time, while the studio netted seven* $1-billion films (*including Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker). Many prestige films also debuted this year, and my top picks follow:
1. 1917
Sam Mendes' latest take on the war genre is simply astounding. Visceral, emotional, and subtle, 1917 is a modern masterpiece of narrative and technical achievement. Here's to hoping we get more one-shots across genres (superhero films?).
2. A Hidden Life
Terence Malick is never a dull director, and A Hidden Life is rife with his trademark philosophical questioning and arresting cinematography. This true life story of the Nazi conscientious objector Franz Jägerstätter is both timeless and moving, challenging audiences to be better.
3. Avengers: Endgame
Sticking the landing is easy to fail (Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker), but Marvel ended their 10-year journey with great resonance. The film is surprisingly somber, with a hefty running time largely devoted to character interaction and evolution that instills why these films resonate with so many people. Marvel, I'm with you 'til the end of the line.
4. The Nightingale
Jennifer Kent's follow-up to The Babadook is even more impressive, as The Nightingale is a harrowing, honest potrayal of colonization, toxic masculinity, and family.
5. The Lighthouse
The Lighthouse is a puzzling, atmospheric two-handed play with stunning work from Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe. Eggers' command of the camera and beautiful language elevate this film beyond a genre trope and into something far more compelling.
6. Uncut Gems
The Safdie Brothers continue to prove themselves as modern-day Scorsese's, delivering an eclectic, energetic film with Uncut Gems. Adam Sandler has never been better, and A24 keeps delivering bold hits (inc. The Lighthouse).
7. Ford V. Ferrari
James Mangold continues to prove his chameleonic directorial abilities, making great films from music biopics (Walk the Line), superhero hits (Logan), and now sport biopics with Ford V. Ferrari. The action is great, but it's never the focus, as the dynamic between Shelby and Miles is the beating heart of the film.
8. Honey Boy
Shia LaBeouf can act and write. His autobiographical work is an intimate look at a frazzled life and ignites compassion towards a dark soul such as LaBeouf.
9. Dark Waters
Mark Ruffalo is terrific in this Erin Brockovich-esque true story about the deadly pitfalls of capitalism. Dark Waters is shockingly-real, leaving the audience affected and disgusted in our nation.
10. The Irishman
Scorsese's latest is much of the same violent mob material, but with the added element of time, which distills his familiar thoughts on faith, violence, and family into something special.
Honorable Mentions: Knives Out, The Last Black Man in San Francisco, Long Shot, The Art of Self-Defense, The Peanut Butter Falcon, Dolemite Is My Name, Joker, Under the Silver Lake
Sean Kelso is the founder and editor-in-chief of Greyscale.
Star Wars: The Abuse of Nostalgia (spoiler review)
What was Finn going to tell Rey? For the slightly attentive viewer, this is one of many questions that never gets answered in J.J. Abrams' "The Rise of Skywalker." The film, seemingly in response to a vocal minority who didn't like "The Last Jedi," veers itself so far into safe territory that it loses all narrative weight, yielding a lifeless, predictable end to a now-disposable trilogy.
Let's begin with the plot. Does it really have one? The first two acts of the film play out as if we are embodying the roles in a video game quest, as the characters navigate the galaxy like pong pong balls from expositional character to expositional character in search of Palpatine's location. Palpatine is somehow alive (plot armor)—a villain who was not only thrown down an impossibly-tall height by Vader in "Return of the Jedi," but also part of the death star that exploded at the end. The writers' explanation—'sith powers'—is something we've never seen before and is one of many signs that points to their gross course-correction in this trilogy. Not only is Palpatine back, but every influence for Kylo Ren was him, including the short-lived Snoke who was somehow a clone (how/why?) of Palpatine. The plot never rises above a "Transformers" level of sophistication, delivering visual noise and a familiar score instead of a compelling or dramatic arc for these familiar characters. There is a dizzying level of confusion from "The Last Jedi" alone: 'Rey is nobody' turns into 'Rey is the granddaughter of Palpatine' ; Luke's decision to toss the lightsaber on Ahch-To turns into his preaching that Jedi always take care of their weapons. In one scene, Kylo takes Rey's necklace from their force-connection into his plane of existence first, yet they never explain how this works—why can't he just fully-transport into her location?
Character arcs in "The Rise of Skywalker" are either non-existent or zany at a middle-school level. Finn is seen repeatedly throughout this film as a force user with his connection to Rey, yet he does nothing to use this ability, instead commanding armies on horses that possess an impossibly low oxygen tolerance when fighting on star destroyers in the atmosphere. Rey has ascended into full-on god mode in a obvious rebuke of prior canon material. After six films where Anakin Skywalker was the chosen one, Rey comes along with Thanos-level power, healing six-eyed snakes and Kylo Ren with ease. After she fake-kills Chewbacca with force-lightning, Rey decides to never explore that skill again. It probably would have been helpful against someone like Palpatine who uses that exclusively. Palpatine is a disgrace in this film, as he appears dimwitted and reactionary, rather than as the calculated menace he was in the Original Trilogy. His diabolical plans change THREE times throughout the movie: 1) tells Kylo to kill Rey; 2) tells Rey to kill him to transfer his spirit to her; 3) decides to cannibalize their powers and kill them both.
The indecisiveness of Palpatine mirrors that of the creators who created this Frankenstein of an ending. There is no logical possibility that Palpatine was the end-game villain of this trilogy all along during production. Rian Johnson's shift in killing Snoke must have disturbed J.J's force, as Palpatine's presence, from his convenient clones of Snoke lying around, to his stereotypical 'hiding in darkness, waiting to strike' trope, subtract any level of logicality from the film. Plot elements here disrupt the entire saga, not just this tepid trilogy. Leia, in a disposable cut-scene, apparently was a better Jedi than Luke in the recent past, although we neither heard of this nor saw her in battle ever before. "Episodes 1-6" chronicled the rise and heroic fall of Darth Vader, yet this film annihilates his sacrifice by reincarnating the very force he died destroying. While previous trilogies established that only the top Jedi (not Sith) could be brought back as force entities, apparently the number cap expanded, as Palpatine explains he possesses all the Sith, while Rey possesses all the Jedi.
"The Rise of Skywalker" is not painful viewing for the deaf or amateur fan. The non-stop action and explosions keep audiences entertained, akin to watching fireworks on the Fourth of July. John Williams' score is the strongest part of the film, although even it succumbs to mundaneness towards the third act after being the only source of emotional resonance. Everything here feels manufactured in a sloppy, infantine fashion. J.J. Abrams has always been one to copy, but his logic capability in crafting a finale has been thrown into a chasm deeper than Palpatine experienced. Instead of continuing Kylo Ren's path further to the dark side and establishing a worthwhile foe to Rey, he simply turned him into heroic Vader. Instead of challenging the emotional identities of Rey and Kylo, he keeps gender roles confined to the Star Wars status quo: Rey is over-expressive, while Kylo is under-expressive. Instead of taking bold risks with the principal arcs of Rey, Finn, and Poe, he sidelined the latter two and divined the former, creating boring mirrors of Luke, Leia, and Han, respectively. Ending this trilogy is admittedly difficult, yet Abrams' overreliance on nostalgia creates a desensitization of the past. "The Rise of Skywalker" evanesces the closing of this trilogy much like Palpatine, leaving viewers metaphorically stranded on Exigol, looking for any creative minds that will bring them original stories in a galaxy far, far away...
Sean Kelso is the founder and editor-in-chief of Greyscale.
JOJO RABBIT: How to Misfire at Nazis
Taika Waititi's latest film carries his usual social satire for all the wrong reasons with his dull Nazi rendition in Jojo Rabbit.
Jojo Rabbit is an interesting release, after Fox Searchlight reportedly didn't know how to market the film with its subject matter, and it surprisingly won the TIFF Audience Award (a feat that has successfully predicted Oscar winners of recent years like Green Book and Twelve Years a Slave). Based on the novel Caging Skies, Jojo Rabbit tells the story of Johannes Betzler (Roman Griffin Davis), a young German boy infatuated with Nazi's and his imaginary best friend Adolf Hitler (Taika Waititi). The film follows the tribulations Jojo faces after discovering his mother (Scarlett Johansson) is harboring a Jewish girl named Elsa (Thomasin McKenzie) in their house.
Jojo Rabbit is much of the same from director Taika Waititi (What We Do In The Shadows, Hunt for the Wilderpeople, Thor: Ragnarok), as he infuses whimsical humor through light and dark moments alike. While it has worked effectively in previous projects, it sends the wrong message with Jojo. Throughout the entire film, all we see are wisecracking, dubious Nazi's who commit evil acts off-screen in a jovial manner ("Heil Hitler!"). Waititi handles everything with such a light air that even tragic moments in the film seem light and meaningless. Characters lack such depth that they are portraying hollow caricatures of Nazi's and Germans of the quality of an SNL sketch. Sam Rockwell—wasted. Alfie Allen—wasted. Rebel Wilson—wasted. Scarlett Johansson—wasted. All of these actors give one-note, over-the-top performances that instill a fantastical element to a film that centers on Nazi's searching for and killing Jews and Germans in the historical Holocaust era.
Everything in the film is sweet and endearing, from the vibrant cinematography to the upbeat musical choices. Composer Michael Giacchino (Up, Ratatouille) is greatly wasted here, delivering boiler-plate scores that add nothing on an emotional level. The film is sure to cause debate over the timing and substance of Nazi's in our current political climate, which should be considered. It seems Waititi was going for Benigni's Life is Beautiful approach to the dense subject-matter, but he greatly misfired in a realistic sense. The tone for this film is all over the place, particularly between the first and second halves, which pivot hard from comedy to light drama ineffectively. Characters we spend several minutes with get narrative choices meant to evoke a response from the audience, which feels cheap, dirty, and unwarranted. Nice moments between Jojo and Elsa are quickly disrupted by zany Nazi's and Waititi's wholly-unfunny Adolf Hitler. One would think a film exploring an imaginary Hitler, Nazi Germany, and a young boy tied between all of it would have gripping narrative evolution, but none of that lies here, as Jojo Rabbit offers the audience an ultra-sincere and simple view of the Holocaust period. As IndieWire's Eric Kohn said, "The cartoon Nazis in “Jojo Rabbit” are so far removed from reality that they make it all too easy to laugh off the circumstances at hand. That’s not only crass but disingenuous, a feature-length variation of the shower-scene fake-out in “Schindler’s List.”
With critics questioning the validity of a film like Joker, which tells a narrative from a murky, violent protagonist, it should be discussed how the opposite end of the spectrum in Jojo lies with an upbeat look at a historical atrocity. Whereas Joker arguably questions the audience's tendency to dismiss mentally-ill people and be a catalyst for toxic behavior, Jojo Rabbit seems to say Nazi's were a silly, dumb group of people that we should only laugh at now. Unlike Tarantino's revisionist Inglorious Basterds, Nazi's here are our friends and little kids shoot grenade launchers because it's fun! In reality, Neo-Nazi's and white supremacists exist. Hate exists, but Jojo Rabbit inhabits an ethereal dimension filled with alternate history that reeks of flippancy to the millions who suffered.
Sean Kelso is the founder and editor-in-chief of Greyscale.
NYFF57: Exclusive Interview with Wallace Shawn
SEAN KELSO: So do you have any strong thoughts on the news that The Princess Bride might get a reboot?
WALLACE SHAWN: Well, um, I don't know if there will be interest in a sequel or reboot. I mean, uh, a lot of people have expressed harsh criticisms over the idea. So, I'm betting it won't happen. I think if it did happen, they would want new actors, a new Vizzini.
SK: In terms of this project (Marriage Story), is there anything that surprised you about working with Noah and the cast?
WS: Uh, yeah, I was just surprised that they were such great actors. That's about it.
Sean Kelso is the founder & editor-in-chief of Greyscale.
NYFF57: Exclusive Interview with Scarlett Johansson
SEAN KELSO: What was the thing that was most surprising once you got from the script to working with Noah and the cast?
SCARLETT JOHANSSON: Yeah, I think the – well, I never worked with Noah before, so I didn’t know what his style of directing was going to be. Um, and he is…he’s relentless and he really…he is relentless in his pursuit of…of, you know, his curiosity about these characters and all the – like nothing is off limits with him.
SK: I can imagine.
SJ: Um, but it’s exhausting. You’re doing 70 takes of something that’s really emotional. It – it was a marathon for sure. So that was surprising to me because I just didn’t know what to expect and it was like “Oh, okay, we’re doing that!” You know, I got strong and pulled a lot of dramatic muscles.
Sean Kelso is the founder and editor-in-chief of Greyscale.
TIFF 2019: "DOLEMITE IS MY NAME" quick review
Eddie Murphy's long-heralded returns arrives with Netflix's Dolemite is My Name, a surprisingly charming and in-depth look at the crazy life of real-life performer Rudy Rae Moore.
He's back. In a role that parallels James Franco's upbeat look at Tommy Wiseau in The Disaster Artist, Eddie Murphy breathes life into the true story of Rudy Rae Moore / Dolemite. This film looked like a cheap ensemble movie that Netflix is seemingly-accustomed to releasing on their infinite scroll platform. The truth is, however, that Dolemite is My Name possesses heart and goodwill from a talented cast.
The film follows down-on-his-luck musician Rudy Rae Moore, who decides to reinvent his career by adopting the persona of Dolemite, a kung-fu actor set on making his own movie. We see him early on as a thoughtful conniver, stealing jokes and mannerisms from comedians to use in his own routine and gain notoriety. His transformation into Dolemite mirrors his own personal journey to being a better person, which doesn't feel as stereotypical as it sounds, and Murphy is largely to credit for that. He embraces the mannerisms of Dolemite, filling them with caricatures and excitement seen in his other projects like The Nutty Professor.
Eddie Murphy is not the only shining star here, as this ensemble is an Avengers-level blaxpoitation success. Wesley Snipes is nearly unrecognizable in some scenes as actor-director D'Urville Martin, delivering haughty attitude and comedy throughout the film. Keegan-Michael Key is a nice touch to this film, in a familiar but satisfying part mixed with satire and realism. Luenell shines as Moore's aunt, who he lives with and takes advice from as he slowly realizes his dream of being a film star. The film is surprisingly topical, covering themes such as celebrity, racism, and family to surprising effect. Dolemite was always a larger-than-life persona that even Moore couldn't live up to, and Murphy displays the fragility associated with such an act. Everything here from the period setting to the plot references feel alive and authentic, which is a welcome surprise from the Netflix machine, especially as we enter Oscars season. I regrettably almost passed on Dolemite is My Name—please don't do the same.
Sean Kelso is the founder and editor-in-chief of Greyscale.
"SPIDER-MAN: FAR FROM HOME" spoiler review
The latest Sony-Marvel collaboration, Spider-Man: Far From Home thwips into theaters this week, offering laughs, action, and some tingly nods to the future of the MCU. The vast amount of easter eggs and information shown here don't lend themselves well to a non-spoilers discussion, so beware ahead.
The MCU continues its breezy high-school approach with this film, offering viewers a fresh look at the future and past of this bustling universe. A silly, divisive 'in memoriam' opens the film off with comedy that remains throughout, although director Jon Watts tries to play up dramatic elements later on. Tony Stark is arguably a main character in this film even as a dead man, from his gift of EDITH ('even dead I'm the hero') to his birth of the Mysterio team. Marvel summarizes the entire Iron Man trilogy in this film, from supplanting disgruntled employees (Obadiah Stane and Mysterio's crew) to overcoming personal issues (Tony discovering a new element & Peter re-discovering his spidey-senses) to a villainous ruse ('hero' Mysterio and 'actor' Mandarin). Marvel has seemingly fully embraced the apprenticeship of Spider-Man and Iron-Man to my chagrin, although they execute it permissibly. Their reliance on Stark at this late in their historic success seems to display fear at a universe without him in it. It's disappointing that an iconic character with as much heart as Peter Parker is not interesting enough on his own, without the technological prowess of Stark Industries backing his adventures. Nonetheless, Watts & Co. do a very nice job with Far From Home—it's hard to not like this movie, as it commands your attention with laughs, twists, and very solid visual effects sequences.
As good as the movie is, it is inevitably overshadowed by the terrific post-credits scenes, which I will break down in informal fashion:
1) Stark tower sold—the clear ownership change of the iconic Stark Tower is noteworthy for speculative fans. I believe it belongs to either: a) Oscorp (the proper intro to Norman Osborn / Sinister Six); b) Fantastic Four / Baxter Building. Marvel is incredibly sly and taciturn when it comes to details and foreshadowing, so I am eager to see how they weave this building into the future.
2) J Jonah Jameson = J.K. Simmons—the ultimate fan casting. After his memorable performance in the great Raimi trilogy, Simmons was a sore actor to replace for his boisterous portrayal of Jameson. Marvel was smart to bring him back with an Alex Jones-esque twist. I am excited to see how he figures into future installments and how his journalistic ethics play out. His backing of the conniving Mysterio was an insight into a potential Sinister Six battle—we have Vulture, Scorpion and likely Quentin Beck (he's not dead) already, with the character of 'Dmitri' in this film probably being Chameleon / brother of Kraven; we would only need Osborn to make a killer six...
3) Skrulls reveal—it seems like Nick Fury will be a galactic Avengers connection now. With the knowledge that Talos and his girl were Fury and Hill in this movie, one can question how long the real Fury has been away from earth: did he leave after Stark's funeral, or has he been gone since the events of Captain Marvel? I expect the Fury-Danvers dynamic will continue into the future, with Fury advising the new Avengers team as he is known for.
Marvel continues to deliver fulfillment and surprises, which is what draws in the historic crowds. Far From Home is far from the MCU's best, but it doesn't have to be, as it is a friendly neighborhood film that gives audiences a delicious taste of what's next.
Sean Kelso is the founder and editor-in-chief of Greyscale.
"Captain Marvel"—When the Marvel formula meets inexperience
The latest MCU blockbuster, Captain Marvel offers an interesting, albeit disappointing, entry to the superhero genre as an important introduction to a future leader.
Captain Marvel has admittedly been the center of unjust controversy from alt-right users after some poor comments by star Brie Larson, but the film itself is far from perfect. Marvel took the risk yet again with big-budget newcomers for direction, giving the reins to Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck ("Half Nelson", "Mississippi Grind") who unfortunately weren't ultimately up for the task. The film tells the origin story of Carol Danvers / Captain Marvel (Larson) amidst the intergalactic Kree-Skrull war in the mid-1990's. Danvers begins as a confused warrior of the Kree Star Force led by Yon-Rogg (Jude Law), who crash lands on Earth and begins to unravel her identity. A young Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) soon teams up with Danvers to prevent the earth from alien invasion and danger posed by the Kree and leader of the Skrulls, Talos (Ben Mendelsohn).
There is a lot to like with Captain Marvel. In expected fashion, Marvel hands Danvers story in an interesting way, with interjections of the past and present throughout the film, a la Nolan's Memento or Snyder's Man of Steel. The script and narrative are ingenious in the way they connect all 20 previous MCU films seamlessly, while feeling authentic rather than contrived. The handling of aliens in the film is adept as well, as they take a bold choice to portray them as innocent nomads in a direct confrontation of modern American immigration politics. Some action scenes and visual sequences are quite stunning, and the de-aging work done on Jackson and Clark Gregg as Agent Coulson are impressive and wholly-immersive throughout (although neither actor has really aged visually, anyway). The 1990's sets and costume design are true-to-life and dedicated, enveloping the film in reality. Ben Mendelsohn appears to have a blast in the film, delivering a memorable Pulp Fiction-esque performance as a charismatic 'bad-guy.' The overall narrative and structure of the film buoy it above total mediocrity, but several issues glare nonetheless.
The character of Captain Marvel is sadly dull, which I blame on the inexperience of directors Boden and Fleck more-so than Larson. Larson's portrayal is wooden in the attempt to make her a stoic, independent woman, and her character is so powerful, the film loses all suspense in the story of an invulnerable hero (please fix this, Avengers: Endgame). When Marvel announced a high-caliber, Oscar-winner like Larson, I expected much more range and emotion to be exhibited, but frankly any established actress could have pulled off this dull iteration of Captain Marvel. The film lacks any pacing at all—scenes feel independent and action sequences are overdrawn and appear to be done by a different set director. Music in the film is used almost exclusively terribly, banging 90's references and feminist empowerment over the audiences head to oblivion. Whereas Guardians of the Galaxy used music as a narrative device in creative ways, Captain Marvel uses it solely for pop-cultural coolness and results in jarring sequences throughout. For a film which pays obvious homage to Star Wars, from the one-shots of characters piloting spaceships to the set design, it fails to portray it captivatingly on-screen, which leads to a terribly-lit climactic space fight scene. With Disney's ownership of Lucasfilm, you would expect them to send over some ILM visual effects artists to render sequences better in Captain Marvel, but that is not to be found here.
While the film is sadly a low point for the greatness seen in the MCU thus far—as messy as Thor: The Dark World—Captain Marvel is perfectly fine overall. Larson's portrayal was bland, but that can be fixed in future installments (ie. 'Endgame') and the unique narrative lifts the film up nonetheless. This is an important film historically and is worthy of your attention, but I cannot veil my disappointment in Boden and Fleck's amateur handling of such a rich story. There's always tomorrow, however, and Marvel will surely learn from this and keep delivering timeless tales of heroism for the enthusiastic masses.
Sean Kelso is the founder & editor-in-chief of Greyscale.
"Aquaman" review — a joyous sci-fi flick that course-corrects the DC universe
Splashing into theaters on December 21st is DC's latest big-budget superhero film Aquaman, which delivers strong action, visual effects and a familiar, but reliable narrative sure to please the masses.
Directed by James Wan (The Conjuring franchise, Furious 7), Aquaman stars Jason Momoa as the titular Atlantean Arthur Curry, amongst a tremendous cast including Oscar nominees Willem Dafoe and Nicole Kidman. The film follows Arthur in the events following Justice League, as he returns to his coastal home, avoiding the distractions of the modern world. He is soon visited by Mera (Amber Heard), an Atlantean princess & superhero who demands he come back to Atlantis to prevent Arthur's half-brother, Orm / Oceanmaster (Patrick Wilson) from declaring war on the surface world. After a brief and unsuccessful skirmish against Orm, Aquaman and Mera set out on an adventure across the seas to find the mythical trident of Atlan in an effort to unite all seven kingdoms and overcome Orm's dangerous plans.
The DC Universe (DCU) leading up to Aquaman has had a tumultuous run, to put it mildly. Too often, they came across as a reactionary organization, announcing sequels and spin-offs to movies immediately after any social media buzz (ie. Birds of Prey, Black Adam, etc). Their response to Marvel's Avengers (2012), which grossed over $1.5 billion, was the measly Justice League (2017), which grossed $657 million—their lowest opening of any DC film at the time. Thus, one could argue that Aquaman had the most pressure to succeed and instill hope back in the DCU after the rejection of Justice League and the critical disconnect of all their previous films except Wonder Woman. James Wan's Aquaman goes back to the basis, delivering a solid and overwhelmingly fun superhero movie that bolsters strong performances and visual effects to set itself apart. Jason Momoa continues to have a blast on-screen, giving Arthur plenty of charisma and badass-ery to buoy the film. Amber Heard also delivers a career-best performance as Mera, giving her strength and intelligence unlike that of stereotypical female protagonists. Aquaman and Mera work together great, as Mera's intuition and problem-solving complements Aquaman's nonchalance. The extended cast is worthy of mention too, as Willem Dafoe (Atlantean scientist, Volko) and Nicole Kidman (Arthur's mother, Atlanna) give anchoring performances that elevate the film past safe cliches. Nicole Kidman takes the big-budget fiasco that is a superhero movie and grounds her performance in her indie background, offering tremendous emotion to the narrative that the DCU has lacked until this point. Patrick Wilson and the rest of the cast are serviceable actors here, delivering characters that neither elevate nor detract from the film's merits.
While the cast lifts Aquaman past standard conventions, James Wan and the team behind the camera deserve most of the respect for the film's success. Seeing the trailers made me nervous for the amount of visual effects used in this film, reminding me of the reliance seen in the Star Wars prequels, but Wan uses his budget to his advantage and displays an immersive look at Atlantis. Everything from the bioluminescence of the architecture to the sophisticated cityscape make Atlantis real on-screen, which allows you to be fully transported to this zany adventure. Wan held nothing back with his vision here, showing off everything from drum-playing octopodes to man-eating sea monsters that fill up the film's huge battle sequences. The visual effects in Aquaman were clearly well-imagined before the film released, which says a lot compared to past DCU films (ie. Justice League) and it aids in bringing this narrative dynamism. There is some nice social commentary here, too, from man's pollution of nature to our tendency to isolate ourselves from neighbors, but none of it is truly emphasized, as the focus here is on having fun.
While the film is very enjoyable to watch, it is not really anything original in the superhero genre, as Arthur Curry largely follows the stereotypical hero's journey. Orm's presence is neither menacing nor emotional, which was disappointing given the great development given to other characters like Kidman's Atlanna. Aquaman doesn't seem to want to be anything daring, as its clear narrative lends itself to paying homage to other films, like Indiana Jones, rather than standing on lone footing. So while Aquaman being an unoriginal concept in strict terms is disappointing to a devoted viewer, it is a big success for the DCU, which has struggled with defining itself and establishing a character fans can grab onto. I recommend seeing Aquaman on the biggest screen possible on opening weekend, since there is great fun to be had here in this film, which DC hopefully looks to for direction moving forward.
Sean Kelso (@SEANKELS0) is the founder & editor-in-chief of Greyscale.
"Wildlife" review—an intimate portrayal of a family in disarray
"Wildlife" is the latest work by Hollywood veteran Paul Dano in his directorial debut, offering audiences a glimpse at a 1960's American family breaking apart in a modern framework.
Dano displays many artistic sensibilities throughout "Wildlife" as a writer-director, concisely tackling themes of masculinity, femininity and the American dream in a tight narrative. "Wildlife" stars Jake Gyllenhaal and Carey Mulligan as Jerry and Jeannette Brinson, respectively, two parents struggling to make ends meet and raise their teenage son Joe (Ed Oxenbould). The story picks up in 1960's Great Falls, Montana, where the Brinson's have recently moved to get a job. Not long after, unfortunately, Jerry gets fired from his gig at the local golf club, throwing the family into fiscal turmoil. Out of pride and disgust, Jerry sets out on a dangerous job to extinguish fires in the nearby mountains, even with the terrible pay ($1 / hour) and the disagreement from Jeannette and Joe. The early departure of the father and husband from the picture sets "Wildlife" on a mysterious crash course that is a gripping look at how families deal with conflict.
While the narrative is interesting enough, what sets "Wildlife" apart from traditional Oscar-bait / arthouse cinema is Dano's devotion to the characters and themes throughout. Jake Gyllenhaal delivers yet another impressive performance as a damaged Jerry Brinson who struggles to maintain his identity as a provider for his family as security seems to always evade his family's life. While his family is shocked by Jerry's decision to leave them early in the film to go fight fires, Gyllenhaal's solemn, yet evocative expressions display a wounded and masculine aspect of Brinson that compels him to leave. Since Jerry cannot provide direct financial security for his family after all the moving and new jobs, his choice to combat fires is his way of protecting the larger society and how he attempts to fill the void from a failed career. Carey Mulligan is equally impressive as Jeannette, a contemplative housewife who seeks to regain control of her life amidst the chaos imposed by Jerry's absence. Ed Oxenbould delivers a strong performance as the familial center of the narrative, displaying the innocent naiviety of youth. Mulligan and Gyllenhaal offer different, but honest portrayals of femininity and masculinity, as both pursue fulfilment amidst a crackling marriage.
Atmosphere and the isolation of Montana provide depth to "Wildlife," as the desperation and pent-up energy felt by the characters are often displayed without conventional dialogue. Dano takes a very quiet approach with this film, which works due to strong performances by Gyllenhaal and Mulligan, along with the natural scenery and set design. The sweeping mountains and roaring fires provide thematic representations for the peaceful chaos experienced throughout the film. Setting the film in rural Montana establishes Jerry Brinson as an archetypical American Cowboy, who prefers the company of like-minded individuals and the thrill of exploring unmarked land away from traditional society. Although this film is adapted from Richard Ford's synonymous novel, the narrative penned by Dano and Zoe Kazan feels like an autobiography or documentary with its intimate, flawed characters. Destruction is a literal and symbolic theme throughout the film, as fires are inevitably a weaker threat to the narrative than the crumbling love shared by the Brinson's, which makes the story much more tragic and realistic.
What Dano and the cast were able to accomplish here is commendable not only for the private, sometimes squeamish look at familial strife, but for imbuing it with iconographies of the American West and non-conventional marriage tropes. Dano, Gyllenhaal and Mulligan find a way to show the Brinson's as interesting and volatile partners who still embody respectable ideals of men and women, showing them as morally-gray individuals rather than Christ-like partners. This devotion to realism should give Dano, Gyllenhaal and Mulligan Oscar consideration, as the film is an accomplishment in simplicity, if nothing else.
Sean Kelso is the founder & editor-in-chief of Greyscale.
"The Sisters Brothers" review — a unique, prescient reinvention of the Western
Amidst the pantheon of revered Western films, it can be difficult to stand out as original or worthwhile. "The Sisters Brothers," however, combines a lively script with an all-star cast and modern themes to overcome the normalcy associated with recent Western misfires.
Based on the synonymous novel by Patrick deWitt, "The Sisters Brothers" follows the quests of Eli and Charlie Sisters (John C. Reilly and Joaquin Phoenix, respectively), as they are hired to interrogate an outlaw chemist (Riz Ahmed) who has a formula for illuminating gold underwater. The film is helmed by French director Jacques Audiard ("Rust and Bone," "Dheepan"), who brings a fresh lense towards the American iconography that lifts this film past traditional genre conventions. As Audiard's first English-language film, "The Sisters Brothers" is especially impressive, with its full-bodied performances and American themes, especially considering Audiard does not speak fluent English.
Along with Audiard's attention to detail and character development, the performances from the notable cast enrich the film and its emotional resonance. Joaquin Phoenix (Charlie Sisters) is expectedly great as a violent, troubled drunkard of a hitman, while John C. Reilly (Eli Sisters) adds depth and comedy to his portrayal of a hitman. Riz Ahmed (Hermann Kermit Warm) proves he can perform amongst heavyweight actors, as his character is delightful and kind throughout the perilous film. Jake Gyllenhaal also adds weight and craftiness as John Morris, a detective hired to bring Warm to the Sisters Brothers. Phoenix and Reilly have the necessary chemistry as brothers, but the ensemble of Phoenix, Reilly, Ahmed and Gyllenhaal work surprisingly well and give a community dynamic to the story that the audience can associate with throughout the twists and turns of the story.
While the direction and performances are notable, the hidden star of the film is the cinematography and natural landscapes throughout the adventure. "The Sisters Brothers" was reportedly shot across Spain, and it plays out as a tourist advertisement for their geography. From broad, sweeping mountains to calm rivers to peaceful prairies, "The Sisters Brothers" inspires viewers to embrace their inner animalistic desires and find oneself amongst the uninhabited parts of earth. Audiard juxtaposes these natural landscapes with modernization, as the Brothers travel in and out of established towns (ie. San Francisco), which encapsulates Manifest Destiny and mankind's eternal quest for territory. The pacing is solid throughout the film, except at the end, where the film seems to oscillate sinusoidally between conflict and reflection until its ultimate sweet conclusion.
"The Sisters Brothers" is not an 'Avengers' style cinematic event, but it is quite deserving of your attention. While it features stereotypical shoot-em-up gunslingers, the focus is never on those parts of the characters. The film is a clever exploration of the beloved American West and features a beating narrative filled with lovable hitmen and marauders. Each scene features a new vista of the American West amidst the California Gold Rush period, reinvigorating viewers with newfound appreciation for the natural world. Audiard instills likable qualities in the Sisters Brothers amidst their horrid acts, as they are offered the chance to exchange violence and regret for forgiveness and a sense of belonging. "The Sisters Brothers" is absolutely a 2018 film set in the mid-1800's, as modern society also grasps for identity amidst a changing, bustling country often filled with violence, hypocrisy and illegitimacy. The film tells us that change, however small, is possible for even the darkest souls among us, which is an uplifting idea to leave audiences with.
Sean Kelso is the founder and editor-in-chief of Greyscale.
"AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR" review — An epic smorgasbord of emotion and achievement
After 10 years of superhero films and billions in revenue, Marvel has attempted and accomplished a monumental feat with "Avengers: Infinity War" never seen before on the big screen.
"Avengers: Infinity War" is a seemingly-impossible venture directed by the Russo Brothers ("Captain America: The Winter Soldier," Captain America: Civil War") and stars nearly all the superheroes you could fit on a screen, from Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.) and the original Avengers to Star-Lord (Chris Pratt) and the Guardians of the Galaxy. The stakes on this film are galactic, as the Avengers face an insurmountable threat with Thanos (Josh Brolin), who seeks all six infinity stones to wipe out half of the galaxy in one fell swoop.
As the culmination of 18 films thus far, "Infinity War" had lofty expectations resting on Thanos and his narrative, and Marvel delivered in every regard. On sheer spectacle, "Infinity War" is a cinematic record for franchise union, combining the original Avengers, the Guardians of the Galaxy, Wakanda and new Avengers, such as Doctor Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) and Spider-Man (Tom Holland). Besides the great difficulty in bringing so many franchises together, Marvel had to assure fans that 10 years of waiting was worthwhile for the Mad Titan, Thanos, especially after such compelling prior villains (Loki, Killmonger, Red Skull). Writers Markus and McFeely took a risk in their great devotion to Thanos' arc and motivation, but the extensive development and emotional performance by Josh Brolin yield one of the best super-villains in any comic book film ever (on the level of Ledger's Joker). Unlike the stereotypical villain, Thanos is well-grounded in reality, as an extreme planetary scientist devoted to universal balance. After he couldn't prevent his species from overpopulation, Thanos sees his mission as a noble crusader on behalf of the entire galaxy to keep them in harmony by decimating half of the population existing. His character is uniquely emotional, as his known ties to Gamora (Zoe Saldana) and Nebula (Karen Gillan) display his affections as an adoptive father. Thus when his extraordinary powers are on display and he starts wreaking havoc on the Avengers, the audience is fearful of their fate, as Thanos is adamant in his distorted ethics and terrifyingly capable of bringing about mass destruction.
The performances and meetings in "Avengers: Infinity War" are what audiences have been yearning for for years, and they pay off in great measure. Seeing the Guardians of the Galaxy and their swashbuckling humor interact with Thor (Chris Hemsworth) and Iron Man was everything you could hope for. Seeing Bucky (Sebastian Stan) finally healthy and reunited with Captain America (Chris Evans) was a sweet and endearing moment. Watching all these unique personas mesh on-screen was a candy-land of excitement and spontaneity that only Marvel could pull off with 10 years of connection. In "Infinity War," the ridiculous stakes mean suffering and death for our beloved heroes, and all of the cast was up to the challenge of delivering heartbreaking performances. The visual effects and action sequences are equally commendable, as the Russo Brothers filmed thrilling set pieces in-camera, without any shaky footage to distract the audience. The great displacement across the universe throughout "Infinity War" was a refreshing thrill-ride, as audiences were exposed to an array of different landscapes as Thanos continued his journey for the stones. Thanos and his Black Order were beautifully rendered on screen and entirely believable, which added to the terror felt by the audience at their actions throughout the film.
My only complaint with "Infinity War" may not have been fixable, but it rested on the occasionally-sporadic tone shifts throughout the film. Some scenes quickly transitioned from an emotional death to another landscape or group entirely, leaving the audience stunned at the lack of time devoted to realizing what had previously occurred. Each character in the film has a unique personality, and the transitions between them was not 100% seamless. The adrenaline of "Infinity War" shields these brief tonal inconsistencies remarkably, as the breakneck pace of the film continues from start to finish, captivating audiences entirely.
Ever since "The Avengers" teased Thanos, I have been patiently waiting for Marvel to have their chance to give his mighty story justice and resonance to mass audiences. After seeing all of the individual successes of each Marvel franchise, I was very optimistic, yet apprehensive at the sheer scope of this film. I am relieved and overjoyed to say Markus & McFeely, the Russo Brothers, and Marvel crafted one of the most emotional cinematic roller-coasters I've ever seen. The ending alone was one of the most satisfying, yet devastating sequences in recent memory. Thanos exceeded all expectations, as Marvel respected his sheer strength and background, but shaped him into a deeply empathetic character audiences could relate with. "Infinity War" delivered everything it had to and more: a tight narrative, formidable villain, thrilling action and sentimental character journeys as a result of this 10 year extravaganza. Avengers 4 cannot get here soon enough.
Sean Kelso is the founder and editor-in-chief of Greyscale.