The Matrix Reloaded (2003, The Wachowskis)

I’m trying to think of something nice to say about The Matrix Reloaded. None of the returning good guys give bad performances? None of the leading returning good guys? Like, Gloria Foster’s back and, while she doesn’t give a bad performance, it’s an utterly charmless one heavily leveraging her charm in the last movie. But she’s gone from Black grandmother saving the future to… something else. The something else is a third act reveal without Foster’s participation, but the one scene she does get definitely changes the trajectory the first movie promised.

Reloaded takes place approximately six months after the first Matrix. In that amount of time, Keanu Reeves and Laurence Fishburne have changed their outfits—Fishburne’s got a different leather jacket while Reeves goes with a cloth cassock. Carrie-Anne Moss still does the whole shiny leather thing. It might make for a great scene if they had any personality or character relationships. But there’s not a lot of character in Reloaded for the trio.

Other than Reeves and Moss being lovey-dovey and trying to find make-out time when they’re not busy saving the world. Or when people in the real world are begging Reeves to save their relatives from the Matrix. Or when they’re bringing alms to Reeves. Plus, Reeves is having dreams about Moss dying, which is how the movie starts—a lengthy action sequence with Moss falling to her death before Reeves wakes up scared and sad. He has other ominous dreams, which seem to be really happening, but he never acknowledges his prescience. Even when he and Foster talk around it.

All Fishburne gets in the character development arena is… ex-girlfriend Jada Pinkett Smith’s new boyfriend, Harry Lennox, is willing to destroy the future of humanity because he doesn’t like how Pinkett Smith used to like Fishburne. Pinkett Smith’s terrible, but Lennox is a whole other level of bad. He’d be comically bad if he weren’t actually ruining the scenes. Pinkett Smith doesn’t get enough to do to ruin them. Lennox does get enough and does ruin them.

Though the Wachowskis’ bewildering, seemingly ready for pan-and-scan composition doesn’t help. Maybe they were just bored with the political goings-on too. Lennox is the human resistance army commander and doesn’t think Reeves is the Matrix messiah, though it’s never clear why except to make Lennox more of a dick. The human settlement stuff is weird in a bad way. The only time the Wachowskis show any interest in it is when there’s a sex scene for Reeves and Moss (who apparently can’t do it on their ship because Fishburne and new crew member Harold Perrineau are around) intercut with a very sweaty dance party. Hundreds of scantily clad humans bumping and grinding. Only not the politicians who run the future settlement. Thankfully. Not sure I wanted to see Anthony Zerbe getting down with his shirt off, dripping in sweat from the subterranean heat.

Zerbe’s the council member who isn’t sure Reeves is magic but will risk it. There are some weird optics in having old white guy Zerbe bossing around all the Black people who do the work in the future city. The optics worsen when old white lady Robyn Nevin shows up and does the same thing. Because even though the council itself is diverse, it’s only those two people talking. Well, them and Cornel West, who’s a Black man, but he just parrots Niven and Zerbe. The entire subplot with the survivor city is terrible, even though it’s the de facto A plot since they’ve got thirty-six hours before the machines kill them all. Lennox wants all the ships protecting the city, but Fishburne and Reeves want to go up and into the Matrix. Specifically to see Foster, who drops some big truth bombs on Reeves, which he apparently never tells Fishburne about.

Do Reeves and Fishburne actually have any scenes together? Do they have any conversations before the epilogue? They’re around each other, they have an action scene or two in each other’s company, but they don’t have a character relationship. No time for that sort of thing in Reloaded.

The film’s a series of pseudo-intellectual monologues, seemingly divorced from the first film’s mythology—Matrix Reloaded owes more to TRON in that department than it does to its predecessor—and tedious, pointless action sequences.

Hugo Weaver comes back as a rogue agent—meaning the Matrix is after him too—who can self-replicate, so Reeves has to fight dozens of Weavers at a time for absolutely no narrative reason. The scenes just slow down the plot and create bad set pieces (Reloaded feels like three different sequel ideas glued together).

But those Weaver sequences manage to be more consequential than the eventual main plot for Reeves, which has him confronting one peculiar computer program after another. Including Lambert Wilson, who decided to affect a horny Frenchman for his Matrix avatar, much to wife Monica Bellucci’s displeasure. But Bellucci’s also got her issues.

Wilson’s got a gang of cyberpunk thugs who will fight Reeves and company. They’re not worth talking about, even though the Wachowskis try to make them more interesting by implying they started out as vampires and werewolves or some nonsense. It’s just terrible. Most of them are gone after the first too-long fight, with only Neil and Adrian Rayment sticking around for two set-pieces. I don’t want to get into the Rayments, who are terrible actors in terrible roles, but one could spend a lot of time on all the things bad about them. Maybe not even starting with them being white men with dreadlocks, but definitely getting to it.

So much lousy acting, whether Lennox, Pinkett Smith, Zerbe, Ian Bliss, the Rayments, Perrineau (who’s profoundly lacking in charisma just like his predecessor, Marcus Chong, in the last movie), Nona Gaye as Perrineau’s pointlessly overbearing wife, Collin Chou as Foster’s bodyguard (a computer program who needs to fight a man to see if they can be pals or some nonsense). Helmut Bakaitis has a singularly important part and is godawful.

It’s a terrible sequel, a terrible movie.

Even the returning crew from last time—cinematographer Bill Pope, composer Don Davis—who did excellent work there do bad work here. Pope can’t light for all the green-screened composite shots, and Davis’s score is bad.

Last thing—the CGI models for Reeves. He’s got some Superman-esque flying going on, and whenever he does it, there’s some terrible CGI head on the model.

Nothing the Wachowskis do in Reloaded works, but none of it seems like they care if it works either. It’s the pits.

The Matrix (1999, The Wachowskis)

The Matrix starts kicking ass in the second half. The first act clunks along, introducing both Keanu Reeves’s plot and then the Carrie-Anne Moss and Laurence Fishburne one. The second act makes a lot of promises and stumbles delivering on them. There’s this big fight scene between Reeves and Fishburne, and instead of accelerating the film’s momentum, it intentionally stalls it out again.

The film opens with Moss on the run from the cops and the Men in Black—a phenomenal Hugo Weaving and the lackluster Paul Goddard and Robert Taylor. She’s a cyberpunk hacker who can leap (between) medium-sized buildings in a single bound. Right after Moss’s fantastical introduction, Matrix switches into mundane with Reeves’s white-collar computer programmer. After he gets a prescient message on his computer screen, Reeves goes out clubbing and meets Moss, only to wake up late the following day. At work, he gets a special delivery—a cell phone. It rings, Fishburne calling to warn him Weaver is after him.

Now, if Reeves listens to Fishburne in this scene, the movie will get to the second act faster, so of course, he doesn’t and instead gets arrested. It’s okay, as it allows for the first great scene from Weaver in the film. But then immediately following, Moss comes along (with friends who aren’t going to matter other than looking cool) to rescue Reeves. Not from Weaver, but from reality. Or what he thinks is reality.

Because the actual reality is humanity is being used as batteries for the machines who have taken over the planet. Moss, Fishburne, and the aforementioned indistinct but cool pals (save Joe Pantoliano, who’s intentionally not cool but also very distinct) are freedom fighters who live in the real world—one suffering an endless nuclear winter thanks to the war of the machines—and try to fight the computers, with the fake reality (The Matrix) their battlefield.

And Fishburne’s absolutely positive Reeves is their John Connor. Just no one else is sure. Especially not Reeves, who isn’t thrilled to find out his entire life’s not just a lie but also fake. Even if it does mean he can learn kung fu as fast as it can be uploaded onto his brain via Sony MiniDisc.

The biggest problem with the first half of The Matrix is the sluggish plotting, which keeps Moss in the background so she can save a surprise for later, as well as the tell then show then tell some more style of storytelling. But also the lack of character development for the indistinct but cool pals. The only ones who get anything to do are Pantoliano, who’s disgruntled, and then tech guy Marcus Chong. Chong can’t go into the Matrix because he’s a regular human born out in the post-apocalyptic real world, so instead, he operates the computers to send the other people back in. Chong’s bad. He’s not the worst performance—I mean, he’s close, but he’s much better than Goddard and Tylor—but he’s got terrible timing and bad writing. He’s a charisma vacuum in a part utterly dependent on it.

Once Reeves heads back into the Matrix as one of Fishburne’s team, and they stop promising to do something great and start doing some great things, the film takes off. Starting with Reeves going to visit Gloria Foster. Foster’s the fortune-teller who’s going to suss out whether or not Fishburne found the right guy to save the world.

While The Matrix’s most outstanding achievement is probably its technicals, there’s also something really cool in how the people saving the future are Black (Fishburne and Foster). It just feels right. And special. The film even seems aware of it, with Fishburne alluding towards it during a fistfight with Smith.

The film’s second half is a continual action sequence, primarily set in the Matrix where Reeves, Moss, and Fishburne can do kung fu and shoot guns. The gun stuff gets a little tiresome, but it’s more technically impressive than the kung fu. The best action involves a helicopter rescue sequence; directors Wachowski do their best work on that one, with some excellent editing from Zach Staenberg. The lengthy kung fu fights are all slowed down for emphasis, which makes them less visually impressive, but does allow time to focus on the characters’ experience of the fights, whether it’s Reeves starting to think he actually might be the white savior Fishburne’s looking for, or Weaver coming to a similar conclusion. Good for Reeves, bad for Weaver.

Weaver’s best scene in the movie isn’t opposite Reeves, but Fishburne. Reeves is just Weaver’s fisticuffs nemesis, while Fishburne’s the one he can talk to about two levels of artificial life.

Great music from Don Davis, great photography from Bill Pope. The Wachowskis’ direction of actors isn’t always the best—especially in the first half—but their approach pays off for the actors it needs to pay off for (i.e., Moss). Oddly, they direct Reeves better outside the Matrix scenes than inside, which is an anomaly. Though Reeves probably plays worse inside the Matrix than out because of that super-clunky first act and then the tedious hero’s journey in the second.

Fishburne’s great, Weaver’s great, Pantoliano’s great. Foster. Foster’s really great. If it weren’t for Weaver’s scenes getting better (until they don’t), Foster would be the best performance with just her one scene. But it’s Weaver.

Moss and Reeves are excellent together, which is the point, even if it takes a while. And relies on third act reveals to inform previous scenes.

Reeves is a good lead. He’s best reacting to other people, just so long as they’re strong enough to hold the scenes.

The Wachowskis’ script has some problems, and they can’t always make the obviousness work—then other times sail through it—but the pacing is fantastic. The direction’s usually exceptional.

There are a handful of movie homages. Star Wars and Terminator are the most obvious, plus whatever the wire fu pictures they’re referencing, and there’s eventually a nice Western nod.

Matrix is good. and they can’t always make the obviousness work—then other times sail through it—but the pacing is fantastic. The direction’s usually exceptional.

There are a handful of movie homages. Star Wars and Terminator are the most obvious, plus whatever the wire fu pictures they’re referencing, and there’s eventually a nice Western nod.

Matrix is good.

Hawkeye (2021) s01e06 – So This Is Christmas?

After three episodes away, Rhys Thomas is back directing this episode of “Hawkeye” for the grand finale, and… well, I wish they’d let Bert & Bertie do it. Thomas’s fight scenes aren’t any better than the previous directors’ fight scenes, and he doesn’t have the same light touch with the characters. It’s fine. It’s a successful conclusion to the series, but it’s checking boxes successfully, not ambitious and then succeeding in realizing those ambitions. Because there’s just too much to be done.

Last episode, we discovered not only is Vera Farmiga a villain, but she’s also a villain whose been working with big reveal Vincent D’Onofrio. D’Onofrio’s from Netflix’s “Marvel’s Daredevil” and his appearance last episode is the first confirmation those Netflix shows are in some kind of continuity, even if it’s just cast continuity (in the week in between that episode and this one, D’Onofrio’s “Daredevil” costar, Charlie Cox, reprised the role in Spider-Man 3). But this episode isn’t D’Onofrio just doing a stunt cameo; he’s got a whole arc. No post-Blip recap at the beginning, which seems like a miss given both Alaqua Cox and Florence Pugh got them, but the episode’s so way too full already.

Despite hiring Julia Louis-Dreyfus (who doesn’t appear) to assassinate Jeremy Renner because he’s too good an influence on daughter Hailee Steinfeld, Farmiga’s done with the international crime syndicate lifestyle, and she’s quitting whether D’Onofrio likes it or not.

D’Onofrio doesn’t like it, and he tells Fra Fee to kill Farmiga. Meanwhile, Cox has realized D’Onofrio had her father killed, and she’s trying to get away from him. Alaqua Cox, not Charlie Cox. Charlie Cox isn’t in this episode.

Just realized how confusing writing these posts will be if Alaqua Cox’s “Echo” spin-off involves Daredevil Charlie Cox.

Renner and Steinfeld figure out D’Onofrio’s going after Farmiga—but don’t ever imagine he’d have a Fee snipe her, which seems like an oversight—so if they’re going to save her, they’ll have to do it at a ritzy Christmas Eve party at Rockefeller Center. The Christmas tree and the ice skating will both be things; I’m pretty sure they were spots on Renner’s tourist list when he was showing his kids New York City at Christmas in the first episode, but everyone seems to have forgotten. I’m blaming director Thomas. It’s probably not his fault, but I’m blaming Thomas for not making sure the echoes—no pun—reverberated.

The episode’s going to be a series of middling fight scenes with good banter, starting with Steinfeld and Pugh (Pugh’s the assassin Louis-Dreyfus hired to kill Renner in the post-credits scene in Black Widow). It’s an under-choreographed but energetic fight, with Steinfeld and Pugh’s delightful chemistry driving the whole thing.

Oh, wait—also important, Renner tells Steinfeld she’s his partner earlier, and it’s a whole touching bonding moment even though the episode never gives it enough time.

Pugh’s eager to kill Renner because she’s convinced Renner killed Scarlett Johansson in Avengers 4. But she’s still just in it for the job, which is another miss.

After their (relative to the rest in the episode) excellent fight scene, Renner’s going to fight Fee, Cox is going to fight Fee, Renner and Steinfeld are going to fight the Tracksuit Mafia, Steinfeld’s going to fight D’Onofrio, and Renner and Pugh will have their showdown.

The Renner and Steinfeld team-up fight scene is the best of those sequences, then probably the Cox and Fee one because there’s some gravitas to it. The fight between Renner and Pugh can’t possibly deliver all it needs to deliver; there’s just not enough time for the character development (Pugh’s Renner’s best friend’s kid sister, and it ought to be about their shared loss, but it’s not). It doesn’t flop, which is about the best it can ever hope for.

Similarly, Steinfeld’s fighting D’Onofrio—who apparently got his hands on some super-soldier serum between “Daredevil: Season Three” and “Hawkeye,” which is fine and could’ve easily been explained—is just to keep D’Onofrio from killing Farmiga. Except Farmiga and Steinfeld’s mother and daughter arc completely fizzles.

Though nothing would’ve made me happy with it other than Steinfeld telling Farmiga it’s not “Mare of Easttown,” so she’s not covering for her being a murderer and what not.

The episode’s most successful for Steinfeld, Renner, and Cox, with Tony Dalton getting an honorable mention. He’s got a very fun little arc. And there’s some nice stuff with the larpers, just not enough. Farmiga, Fee, D’Onofrio? Eh. It’s all fine and with more time would’ve been better, but they don’t get more time. Pugh’s good but too much a guest star. It’s almost like they could’ve used another episode.

And then the final “twist” for Renner and wife Linda Cardellini… it’s a little forced and a little slight. Another episode would’ve helped it too.

But as far as ushering Kate Bishop into the MCU and setting up a good dynamic for Steinfeld and Renner? “Hawkeye” succeeds. Though Bert & Bertie probably would’ve directed the packed script better.

There’s a hilarious joke at the MCU franchise’s expense for the post-credits scene. It’s good, and it’s nice they can laugh at themselves, but seriously, we just got done with Kate Bishop’s first adventure—the critical question is, when will she be back? And do they understand they need to bring Pugh along with Steinfeld for it?

As for Renner… if he could do this MCU dad bit so well, why didn’t they have him doing it from the start instead of being the franchise’s most useless major participant? The way they’re able to juxtapose the friendship between Renner and Steinfeld with the never explored one between Renner and ScarJo is some deft work too.

“Hawkeye”’s not a home run, but it’s decidedly a win.

The Stop Button Guide 51

A critical episode guide discussing the all eight second season episodes of the Netflix streaming show, The Witcher, based on the novels by Andrzej Sapkowski. The show tells the story of monster hunter Geralt of Rivia (Henry Cavill), who struggles to find a place in a world where people are often more wicked than beasts. The show also stars Freya Allan, Eamon Farren, Anya Chalotra, Joey Batey, MyAnna Buring, Royce Pierreson, Mimi Ndiweni, Mecia Simson, Anna Shaffer, Mahesh Jadu, and Kim Bodnia.

The Witcher (2019) s02e08 – Family

It’s the worst-case scenario for our heroes, with Henry Cavill racing to the Witcher Winter Wonderland where he’s sure an eternal evil spirit is after Freya Allan. Anya Chalotra is tagging along with Cavill, desperate to convince him she’s not just really sorry she was going to give Allan to that same evil spirit; she’s also now convinced her purpose in life is to help Allan. Live vicariously through Allan’s magic; it’s okay for Chalotra not to have magic of her own, she says. Cavill isn’t listening; if all the people last episode telling him to give Chalotra a chance got through to him, the current crisis has him pushing it away.

We know things are bad at the Witcher Winter Wonderland because Allan is dreaming she’s back in her old castle, back with old friend and protector Adam Levy (a first season favorite). And not just Levy, but Jodhi May’s actually back as well. The way they shoot the back of her head, it actually makes me wonder if she was the back of the head cameo a few episodes ago too. Everything’s just right in Allan’s memories, better than it ever could’ve actually been….

Which is good because, in reality, the evil spirit has possessed Allan, and she’s walking around the Witcher keep slicing every Witcher throat she can find. Good thing Cavill gets there in time to stop her from doing in Kim Bodnia; if she’d done Bodnia too, the very nice father and son arc for he and Cavill wouldn’t get its conclusion. Instead, it does; these two warriors are eventually able to bear their emotions to one another. It’s a great moment and possibly Cavill’s most successful of the season. “Witcher” is Cavill doing likable soulful brute amid better performances that caricature plays off.

Cavill and Bodnia and the rest of the Witchers have to fight Allan, who’s not done killing Witchers; she just wanted to take a break to make everyone sad about the situation. The evil spirit gets more powerful the more tragedy in the world—so when elf queen Mecia Simson abandons Mimi Ndiweni to go north and kill a bunch of human babies, it makes things worse for Cavill and Bodnia. Especially since Cavill’s trying to save Allan and just get rid of the evil spirit. Bodnia’s on the fence.

Chalotra and Joey Batey team up to do science stuff—a potion to separate the evil spirit—which is good because Cavill’s plan is to convince Allan to break through and regain control. Except Allan’s not just in her best memories, she’s in her best dreams—this world she’s found herself in doesn’t just have May and Levy alive; Allan’s also reunited with her parents. It’s everything she ever could’ve hoped for.

There’s a lot of political intrigue going on elsewhere—Eamon Farren convinces Ndiweni he’s a really smart co-conspirator, and they should lie about getting Simson and the elves on the warpath. There’s some more with plotter Graham McTavish, but surprisingly nothing about hundreds of babies incinerating or whatever. Given the epilogues have a whole new setting and job description for MyAnna Buring, it wouldn’t be surprising to discover some of the political machinations got cut.

We also get an idea of what Royce Pierreson will be doing next season, a surprise reveal for Farren and Ndiweni’s arc, and a continued delay on evil fire mage Chris Fulton’s employer. Guess the show only wants to have one unknown but known big twist villain at a time.

But at a certain point in the A-plot—which has Cavill and friends fighting some very nasty dinosaurs (you can tell they’re dinosaurs because of the feathers) before a convenient and well-executed resolution—it’s all just about the promise of season three. The episode checks in with the main cast to go over their responsibilities for next season. They could’ve had Batey make some quip about being ready for the next season and got away with it; the A-plot is so successful for Cavill, Allan, and Chalotra. While Chalotra and Cavill did action together last season, it was never epic. They’ve been building towards Cavill and Allan as a team this season, but always with a missing ingredient. Chalotra. Because they really are doing the surrogate family thing, and they’re leaning in on it.

There are some terrible CGI skies. “Witcher” has real problems with CGI skies.

But, otherwise, they’re set.

The wait between first and second season was fine because the first season was just entertaining and often problematic. However, this finale makes it clear the show knows what it’s doing, and it’s just getting bigger from here on out.

So it’s going to be a long wait for season three. Thank goodness they’re already renewed. Cavill does a fine job “leading” the show while Allan and Chalotra’s performances are getting better as their characters develop. Like, I said, they’re set.

The Witcher (2019) s02e07 – Voleth Meir

Lots gets done this episode. An almost unimaginable amount, given all the characters in play.

The episode begins with Henry Cavill apologizing to Adjoa Andoh for fighting in the temple (no fighting in the temple is one of the rules), but it’s not his fault; it’s bad guy Chris Fulton’s fault. Andoh forgives Cavill and suggests maybe he ought to pay that forgiving forward to Anya Chalotra. Cavill’s pretty sure Chalotra has kidnapped Freya Allan; he just doesn’t know why. So at this point, he does not know it was Allan who magicked open a portal and got them out of there.

Meanwhile, Chalotra and Allan escaped Fulton to find themselves in a less dangerous but still upsetting setting. Fulton tracked down some of Allan’s friends from the first season and killed them, horrifying Allan. Chalotra–indeed acting with malicious intent–lies to Allan about Fulton capturing Cavill in the temple fight, and now they’re going to have to go rescue him. From the city where the bad guys have been giving the elves refuge and where Allan ran from last season, and where she unintentionally unleashed a bunch of monsters when she escaped Eamon Farren. This episode’s going to be a backtrack for Allan’s arc and then a catch-up one for Cavill. Separately. I can’t remember if callback events happen in the previous season finale. It just feels late to return to them, like the last six episodes have just been transitory.

Back at the mage base, we find out MyAnna Buring is making the beast with two backs with Mahesh Jadu, who has assumed control of the Mage Brotherhood since we last saw him. Or I completely missed a scene explaining it. But Jadu’s the boss, Buring’s his lady friend, and Anna Shaffer has come back in a panic after discovering Allan’s a warrior princess with elven blood.

Then the action cuts to Mimi Ndiweni and her troubles hanging on to power. Farren and the human generals in the South are sick of the elves not wanting to fight and are convinced there’s a spy somewhere. So they’re indiscriminately killing elves. It had seemed like there might be some complicated morality at play with the South kingdom like they were trying to help the elves against the racist Northern rulers. But the Southern people are just as bad.

So there’s Chalotra and Allan, Buring and Shaffer, Ndiweni and Farren. And then Cavill and Joey Batey. There’s a great scene where Cavill busts Batey out of jail, lots of action, lots of solid jokes about that action.

Cavill and Batey have some catch-up before Cavill figures out Chalotra’s in league with the Baba Yaga (Ania Marson). Only they need fresh horses, and they happen upon some more season one returnees to get them.

There’s character development for pretty much everyone, usually an equal share—though Batey’s mostly just for laughs and then Buring co-opts Shaffer’s. The character arcs for Allan and Chalotra are the best, especially as Chalotra proves the most successful person yet at teaching Allan how to use her magicks.

The hard cliffhanger has Marson making at least one big move while someone else crosses a point of no return in Ndiweni’s arc too. Monumental ramifications. It’s an excellent episode for Ndiweni in particular. She and Buring have an interesting “even mages are misogynists” juxtaposing.

It’s real good. Very impressive they were able to do so much in the penultimate episode of an eight-episode season. Like, it hasn’t been lackadaisical by any means, but they did take their time a lot in the first half and made then maintained a busy, brisk pace for the rest.

The Witcher (2019) s02e06 – Dear Friend…

This episode opens with a profound downer. Henry Cavill and Freya Allan have left the Witcher Winter Wonderland and run into the new flying monster from last episode. Turns out the new monsters are all trying to get to Allan for some reason. There’s the most significant casualty of the season so far and possibly the series.

Cavill and Allan also have some excellent moments; she’s pissed at him for not letting her take the Witcher juice, and he’s trying to make her understand why. Unfortunately, the monster interferes, but the brief character development sets the board for later in the episode.

It’s good they left the Witcher base because the fire mage (Chris Fulton) can teleport there looking for Allan. Anna Shaffer and Kim Bodnia, who have been confabbing about Allan’s mysterious and major powers, survive Fulton’s attack but not without serious injury. It’s also a little weird the rest of the Witchers in the fort don’t hear the ruckus. It must really suck when you’ve got a monster in your village, and you get any Witcher except Cavill or Bodnia. The rest are severely wanting.

The B plot is going to be Mimi Ndiweni’s continued problems controlling the shitty generals—who want Eamon Farren to put her in her place for helping the elves—and the elves, led by Mecia Simson, are more interested in making sure Simson’s pregnancy goes well than playing soldier for Farren and friends.

It’s unclear what Cavill and Allan will get up to in the temple, other than a lot of exposition and backstory (Cavill was a science student as a teenage Witcher); the A-plot’s up in the air. But it’s got Cavill’s old teacher, Adjoa Andoh, who’s a delight, so it doesn’t really matter. She’s got some great scenes with Cavill and Allan. And then Allan makes an age-appropriate friend in student Joseph Payne.

Then Anya Chalotra turns up at the temple, and we get this lengthy reuniting plot for her and Cavill. Running under it is the audience knowing Chalotra’s in league with the witch out to harm Allan, and her affection for Cavill is an undeniable, magical urge, so there’s a lot of conflict going on. Conflict the audience is aware of but not privy to. “Witcher: Season Two” has had a particular plotting. The first two episodes were resolution and set up; the next two were more set up and reveals; now we’re into the home stretch, and the show’s still picking up speed.

The show finally establishes Cavill, Chalotra, and Allan as a trio, with Allan curious about their history; despite Cavill and Chalotra being the subject of the scene, it’s where the character development arc for Allan and Cavill returns. Very well-executed stuff.

There’s some more world-building with Royce Pierreson in a charming antiquarian bookshop where he and the shop owners (Simon Callow and Liz Carr) learn all about Allan’s secret origin. Turns out she’s the World Killer or whatever they call Wonder Woman in the first movie. But only in the wrong hands, she could also bring about good things. Allan, not Wonder Woman. Ships sailed on Wonder Woman.

It’s pure exposition, but Callow and Carr are fantastic, so it evens out.

There’s a questionable fight scene—if anyone’s been waiting for Cavill to do something for five episodes, I imagine it’s a bathing scene, not a slow-motion fight scene—but otherwise, the episode’s well-directed. And the cliffhanger’s a fantastic mix of ominous and thrilling.

The Witcher (2019) s02e05 – Turn Your Back

I neglected to mention there’s a scene last episode with Joey Batey defending his popular song’s use of deceptive timeline chicanery (oh, if they’d called it Westworlding). It’s only important here because the first scene in the episode doesn’t resolve anything from last time; it instead introduces an evil mage, Chris Fulton. Fulton was imprisoned by Jodhi May, Freya Allan’s warrior queen grandma from last season, and since she’s dead, he’s going to get out. As long as he agrees to hunt down Allan.

It happens at some period before Anya Chalotra meets up with Batey again (from last episode) because we return to that scene and find out not everyone on the Continent thinks Batey’s good at the barding thing. It’s a nice funny in what’s going to be a wry episode; Haily Hall gets the script credit. There’s a lot of wry one-liners.

And pronounced grunting from Henry Cavill. “Witcher: Season Two” does really feel like the scripts know what works in the show and leverages accordingly.

So when Batey goes missing after helping Chalotra and her elf friends to safety, it’s going to turn out Fulton’s got him and is going to torture him for information. But, of course, Batey doesn’t really have any information because Cavill dumped him last season, and he’s no longer in the know. Chalotra’s big decision at the cliffhanger was either staying to help Batey or escaping (since she’s on the lamb). Turns out she stayed. Even though it takes about an entire scene to confirm it.

The episode pairs off characters—Chalotra and Batey, Cavill and Royce Pierreson, Allan and Anna Shaffer. Chalotra and Batey have to escape not just Fulton—who’s a fire mage, which complicates things—but also the local authorities. Cavill and Pierreson are investigating fallen monoliths and new monsters, discovering a bunch of world-building backstories. For example, everyone thought the planet resulted from three different worlds colliding; it turns out there might just be giant teleportation devices. Plus, Cavill and Pierreson get to talk about Chalotra—though Cavill doesn’t explain the reason Pierreson’s love will forever go unrequited is Cavill and Chalotra’s love spell—and so “Witcher” is not going to drag out Cavill knowing she’s alive until the season finale.

Another difference from first season.

Speaking of first season, Shaffer takes Allan on a magical flashback to her life pre- “Witcher” war and drama. Only there aren’t any big first-season cameos. Jodhi May’s supposed to be there but just from the back of the head. Otherwise, it’s all about Allan seeing her parents, Gaia Mondadori and Bart Edwards, again. They’re actually back from the first season (I had to check). And lots of scary magic, which breaks Shaffer’s spell and puts her in danger.

Given the only reason they’re doing the magical mystery flashback tour is because Allan wants Kim Bodnia to turn her into a Witcher so she can unlock hidden memories, and Shaffer wants to save Allan from being injected with a potentially fatal mutating agent.

The cliffhanger is Chalotra finding out what the Baba Yaga (Ania Marson) wants her to do in exchange for getting back her magic: hunt Allan too.

There’s also some check-in on the politics stuff with Mimi Ndiweni and Mecia Simson realizing it’s nice to have a partner in power right before Eamon Farren gets back from the enemy lands. Farren’s immediately a dick, and everything Ndiweni worked for is in danger.

Iffy opening with the threat of more Westworlding, and the character names are way too similar and way too indistinct, but a strong episode.

Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021, Jon Watts)

Spider-Man: No Way Home’s got a very appropriate title. There’s just no way to bring this one home, not for any of the things it tries to do. Though “tries” might be stretching it, No Way Home’s script feels like it’s four different ideas strung together with plot points dependent on the latest Academy Award-nominated or winning actor they managed to convince to come back for it.

But as Tom Holland’s Spider-Man seeming comes to its end—and, no spoilers (which I’m going to try hard to maintain), one way or another, something definitely ends here. No Way Home is a very particular collaboration between Disney and Sony; Disney owns Spider-Man: The Character and Sony owns Spider-Man: The Movie Rights. They weren’t even going to make this movie until Holland called the Disney head honcho and pleaded they go back to the table to make a deal. Disney was ready to leave it hanging on the previous entry’s cliffhanger.

So, while the producers are doing press rounds saying Holland’s not done… it’d be “okay” if he were done. No one in the MCU proper will be missing Spider-Man after No Way Home.

The film brings back major stars from all Sony’s previous Spider-Man franchises, though it never really gives them enough time. No Way Home’s set up to be Holland’s movie, but he loses it in the second half, and when it’s time to hand it back to him, they’ve broken it. They give him the pieces and send him on his way, the numerous epilogues just showcasing how noncommittal anyone wants to be about there ever being another Tom Holland Spider-Man movie again. It’s also a bummer for Zendaya and Jacob Batalan, who get to play sidekicks to a much fuller degree in this outing. No Way Home’s most consistently successful, non-gimmick moments are the ones playing off the trio. The movie does noticeably avoid giving Zendaya anything to do but play the damsel—and not just for Holland—while Batalan gets a potential spin-off setup.

To be clear, Batalan’s delightful, but some of that delightfulness is at Zendaya’s expense.

So the movie fails Holland and his Home trilogy sidekicks (it is nice to see Zendaya get to do more in this one, even if it’s just filler), it fails Holland as the MCU Spider-Man, but it also doesn’t really do anything for the returning Sony Spider-Man franchise participants either. I mean, it also really fails director Watts, who’s stuck directing actors in caricatures of former performances. Spider-Man: No Way Home is groundbreaking but only as a force of commercial will. There’s never been anything like it. And probably can’t be anything like it again; some of the actors look so miserable in this outing, it’s hard to imagine them returning.

It’s a movie without stakes for anyone involved, except potentially guest star Benedict Cumberbatch, who’s worried new boss Benedict Wong will find out how badly the guest star spot is going. All Holland wanted was for everyone to forget last movie’s big twist ending, and instead, he and Cumberbatch break the Spider-Verse. Sorry, multiverse. There’s no Spider-Verse crossover, which is the film’s most obvious miss. Well, the movie’s fourth story’s most obvious miss. There are obvious misses in the three stories preceding it, too, possibly four when you remember there’s not actually a supervillain team-up, just supervillain coincidences. Like it’s an old Godzilla movie, and all the kaiju show up somewhere because otherwise you don’t have a fight, and otherwise you don’t have a Godzilla movie.

Is a Spider-Man movie just a set piece with a bunch of swinging and thwapping action? No, but No Way Home would sure like to get away with one.

Most unfortunately, the film fails Holland as an actor. After single-handedly being the most important addition to the MCU since its inception, his (latest) potential finale turns all his character drama into a multiverse detail gimmick. It then drains any of the remaining resonance in the epilogues. No Way Home is just a graceful out for his Spider-career, which is easily the longest in the movies (six real appearances, one pseudo-cameo), and second only to Nicholas Hammond in live-action appearances. And Hammond was doing a TV show.

Holland’s emotional response to the events in the film—when they still matter to anyone—always get neatly wrapped into a Spider-Man lesson from previous participants from other franchises. The epilogues cheat Holland out of his character arc, just like the very tidy finale cheating all the guest stars out of their arcs. One of the significant developments in No Way Home is Marisa Tomei inspiring Holland not to give up even on the bad guys—especially the ones made bad by science mishaps—and it ends up being one of those stories to nowhere, taken off the stovetop for the next surprise guest star.

It’d be easy to blame the whole thing on screenwriters Chris McKenna and Erik Sommers, but it’s obviously not their fault—not to mention the movie shot during Rona, so there were more factors than the Brinks truck not being full enough. Instead, No Way Home is just a series of gimmicks competently realized with a $200 million price tag.

There are some good performances. Holland’s strong despite the material, ditto Zendaya. Cumberbatch is fun. Jon Favreau seems like he’s trapped in a contract. Marisa Tomei’s got shockingly little despite being in the movie a bunch; she does get one kind of funny flirting scene straight out of the comics. Sort of.

Some of the bad acting is just… the whole caricatures of previous performances thing. It’s like looping an entire performance and not just the dialogue. The standout amongst returning villains is easily Alfred Molina, who’s also in it the most and has the closest thing to a character arc.

And some of the previous performance caricatures work. Just not as much for the villains; it seems like if you’re a bad guy and you’re not bringing anything new, it’s a fail, but if you’re a good guy… it can work.

There are also just plain bad performances like Arian Moayed, the federal agent out for Holland’s hide. That story—the resolution to last movie’s cliffhanger—is all busywork, relying on real surprise (and welcome) cameos and then some decent jokes. There will be okay jokes later on, but they’re just funny and not actually good. Kind of like the movie itself: even when it’s not failing, it’s never truly succeeding.

No Way Home doesn’t quite prove truncated franchises are better than unimaginatively completed ones, but it comes real close.

Hotel Splendide (2000, Terence Gross)

Hotel Splendide is based on a novel by Marie Redonnet. She doesn’t get any credit in the film, director Gross instead taking the full writing credit. Guess the WGA is good, actually.

The film having a novel source explains a few things, principally why Hugh O’Conor is narrating the movie. O’Conor’s ostensibly an aquaphobic staying at the titular hotel, a sanitarium set up on a remote island. I say ostensibly aquaphobic because the film implies, time and again, O’Conor’s really there for something else, and everyone’s been lying to him about his fear of water. There’s even the implication the hotel staff intentionally gave him aquaphobia to take his mind off his real problem, which—based on O’Conor’s character otherwise being entirely devoted to peeping on sexual congresses and playing solitaire with nudie cards—seems to have been him being a sexually frustrated serial killer.

Doesn’t matter because O’Conor disappears in the second act when the film finally gets around to letting Daniel Craig have some agency, only to bring O’Conor back to screw up the finish.

And it’s impressive Splendide’s gotten to a point where O’Conor can drag it back down. The film rallies big time when it really shouldn’t be, including turning Stephen Tompkinson into a dangerous villain when he’s previously just been a simpering mama’s boy without a mama. The mother ran the hotel, dying a year before the present action kicked off. Toni Collette has returned from the outside world, having left five years before when the mother disapproved of her and Craig’s love affair.

Someone—not Craig, who starts the film enraged at Collette for abandoning him—wrote Collette to beckon her back. Her arrival will ruin Tompkinson’s control over the hotel, which is killing off its residents and not getting any new ones since no one who’s been off the island still thinks eating nothing but eel and seaweed stew to constipate yourself and require daily enemas is a good idea anymore. Or at least, one would hope. Splendide requires a bunch of suspension of disbelief, like how the family running the hotel—who’ve presumably never lived anywhere else—have such good vocabularies or how they get power (they get gas by converting residents’ shit into methane to fuel the hotel forever, with the furnace being an angry stand-in for the departed mom), or why they seem to have new clothes. Maybe the novel explains it. Or perhaps the novel’s good enough it doesn’t have to explain it. Or perhaps the novel just avoids it like the movie.

The film starts with director Gross overestimating how charming quirky can be, especially since the quirkiness is laden with ableism, misogyny, and… icky. O’Conor’s icky without being dangerous, while Tompkinson is odious and potentially dangerous (though when the dangerous comes out, Gross makes it ableist to further villainize him, which is a lot). But the person who has it worst—other than maybe actually physically abused kitchen staff Toby Jones—is the sister, Katrin Cartlidge.

Tompkinson manages the hotel, Craig runs the kitchen, Cartlidge handles the physical therapy whether she likes it or not, and retired since his widowing dad Peter Vaughan just hanging around. The film presents Vaughan as a sympathetic old dodderer, too weak to stand up to the dead wife, but then has all these terrible details about him as he perpetuates a bunch of abuse. Gross seems entirely unaware because it involves women, and they aren’t really characters in Hotel Splendide, like when top-billed Collette essentially becomes Craig’s accessory for the second act.

At times, both Collette and Craig are quite good. Unfortunately, usually not in their scenes together. If they aren’t bickering about Collette literally not wanting to be abused by Craig’s family, Collette’s just silent when Craig does things. The third act doesn’t completely whiff their relationship development, but it comes pretty close. Then the denouement makes them irrelevant. It’s very messy.

Besides Collette and Craig, there are good performances from Cartlidge, Joerg Stadler, and Helen McCrory. Everyone else is fine, save Tompkinson and O’Conor, who are both terrible, though it’s unclear how much is Tompkinson’s fault and not just Gross’s script or directing. O’Conor’s, unfortunately, a charisma vacuum, with or without Gross.

Technically, Splendide hasn’t got much going for it. Gross’s direction of actors is slightly better than his composition, which wouldn’t matter if it were better because Gyula Pados’s photography is terrible. Though not as bad as Michael Ellis’s editing or, especially, Mark Tschanz’s music. The film relies on Tschanz’s score more than anything else, and, even with O’Conor’s annoying narrator, better music probably would’ve saved the day.

For a while, it seems like Splendide will end up being a mildly compelling oddity for Collette, Craig, and Cartlidge. Sadly, it doesn’t. Though it doesn’t fail Collette or Craig anywhere near as much as Cartlidge. It fails her something fierce.