Doctor Who (2005) s13e03 – Once, Upon Time

One of the reasons it’s easier to look at this season of “Doctor Who” through the lens of previous sci-fi is just talking about the new season of “Doctor Who” is boring. And narratively cheap. Chris Chibnall’s script this time uses two major manipulative devices just to get it across the finish line, and it’s literally about all the series bad guys taking over the universe. Even with the Daleks, the Cybermen, and the Angels, it’s a snoozer.

The episode opens with a title card—“Bel’s Story”—and then we meet Bel, played by Thaddea Graham. She’s on one side of the galaxy, post-Flux, trying to get to the other. She’s got a long-lost love to reunite with, and her only friend is a Tamagotchi. Now, it turns out the episode will be all about two Flux events, with Graham in one of them, but the episode hinting she’s in the other one. Would it be better if she were in the other one? Who knows, but it wouldn’t be as dull. It’s really dull, real rote, once Chibnall does the big reveal.

Though I guess the special effects on Graham’s spaceship journey are better than anywhere else. When Jodie Whittaker’s stuck in the time stream—she’s unstuck in time, we’ll get to it—the special effects are of the “oh, they’re supposed to be bad” quality. Sort of like the villains’ rubber masks. We also find out the bad guys are called “The Ravagers” this episode, which is definitely from Guardians of the Galaxy but I think the term’s been used at DC Comics too. It also doesn’t describe the villains well, like trying to imagine them sitting around and coming up with that name for themselves. The bad guys are mad because there’s a planet Time, which the Doctor apparently helped create then forgot.

No mention of the Time Lords this episode, like Chibnall’s only allowed to mess with canon so much before they hit the reset button at the end of the season.

The heroes are all unstuck in time. Whittaker, Mandip Gill, John Bishop, and Jacob Anderson. Whittaker’s got the ostensible A plot, about the first time the Flux happened, where she isn’t exactly herself, and she’s actually not remembering things right, but it’s suitable for reveals. Her team looks like Gill, Bishop, or Anderson, but we soon find out they aren’t actually those people, and it’s not the future; it’s the past. We also meet Barbara Flynn, who’s very ominous, and you expect her to wink at the camera and joke about being the “Master of Her Domain” or something.

Anyway, Whittaker’s portion of the episode looks like someone really liked the apocalypse epilogue in Zach Snyder’s Justice League. Or at least some of the CGI backdrops. So many lousy CGI composites in this episode. So many.

We get Anderson’s origin story, involving future white people still being racist. Gill fills in as other characters Anderson is misremembering and has the most acting work in the episode. It’s admirable work from Gill, though her actual character gets the shaft. Damsel in distress stuff when she gets it. Bishop’s got a busy work plot to make it all about saving a different damsel for him.

The cliffhanger’s effective at least, but they’re really sending Whittaker out with a lackluster finale. Especially when we find out she shouldn’t even be in the episode; she’s stealing someone else’s place. The whole thing is an eyeroll.

Hitman: Local Heroes (1996-97)

Local Heroes collects two story arcs; the first is the Local Heroes one, about metahuman hitman Tommy having to team up with Kyle Rayner Green Lantern to take on the C.I.A. The C.I.A. wants to start controlling the supes, and suddenly it's like The Boys in here. I hadn't realized writer Garth Ennis worked through ideas over such a long term; Ennis has got his themes—like drunk Irish men—but if I've ever recognized echoes throughout his career, I've forgotten. I've also never read this far into Hitman before, and maybe everyone knows about the Boys echo. Whatever. Just saying.

So the main story is four issues. The second story is two issues. All by Ennis and artist Joel McCrea. You get pretty much equal amounts Hitman in both; the difference is there are subplots in the feature story, and the back-up's pretty much all action. Which one is better? Well, the feature's Ennis constantly pwning Kyle Rayner (with D.C.'s consent and, therefore, tacit approval), and it's pretty funny. It even manages to get a little deeper in contrast, with Ennis delving into the moralities of the comic and its protagonist, turning it into a slight humor bit with Green Lantern and sort of leaving it running in the background. Every once in a while, there's a return to it—also because Tommy picks up a new love interest, a suspended Gotham City cop who just happens to be intelligent, head-strong, incorruptible, and adorable with family members. Her name's Detective Tiegel, but he calls her Debs because it's post-feminist when Tommy does it. After all, he clearly respects her.

Another Ennis theme—the lady sidekick.

So Tiegel is also questioning the morality of hanging out with a hitman, which helps keep that subplot going even when Green Lantern isn't pontificating about it.

The bad guys are Truman and Feekle (sound it out); Truman's the brain, Feekle's the muscle. They hire the cops (roping Tiegel into the narrative) to help them kill Tommy if Tommy doesn't play ball, but then after Tommy doesn't, and the cops bungle it, they bring in Green Lantern Kyle Rayner because Kyle Rayner is a dope. Things continue to go wrong, leading to varied team-ups between the good guys against the bad guys. Also, in the background, Tommy is a local hero for standing up to the cops and his continued mourning over his best friend (killed last collection).

Ennis really plays up the neighborhood setting of Hitman, creating a Hell's Kitchen analog in Gotham called "The Cauldron." It's overboard, but it's okay. Like, the comics are from the mid-nineties, years before Daredevil got popular enough to make it seem like a lift. Ennis's wordy Tommy narration almost entirely focuses on his mourning, which is fine. I mean, it's definitely wordy, but it's okay.

Similarly, Tommy and Tiegel are fine. They're cute enough together, but it feels too soon. The story opens with Tommy bemoaning his recent breakup (over being a hitman), and it's not like they have enough chemistry anything needs rushing. They're just a good team. But Tommy's a good partner for anyone. Even Green Lantern Kyle Rayner. Tommy's most crucial superpower is the chemistry Ennis gives him with other characters. Tommy's a smart-ass but not aggressive about it.

The second story has Tommy and his fellow mercenaries and hitmen going up against a bunch of zombies. Some mad scientist kills his partner—it's Gotham City, after all—and wants to prove to the world they figured out how to make zombies.

The narrative's real simple; Tommy gets the job, Tommy goes on the job, it's the job. Sure, there are constantly arriving sidekicks, some with potential drama, but if it plays out, it plays out on the job. It's a mostly action story, and it's full of great zombies. Like, McCrea and Ennis come up with a great twist for the zombies and the rules to zombies. It's inventive in a way they don't need to worry about when there are four issues to the story. Two-parter is set up, cliffhanger, cliffhanger resolve, third act, epilogue. There's no time for subplots or girls or conspiracies. It's lean.

And it's great.

Kind of better than the main story. Because the main story's just good, the second story's great.

Hitman's an outstanding comic.

Legends of Tomorrow (2016) s07e05 – It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad Scientist

When I read Matt Ryan was leaving “Legends of Tomorrow” as John Constantine but returning in a different part, I initially assumed it was Constantine-adjacent. But it’s not. Even after he started showing up in the opening credits photo roll—“Legends” does a speed-roll of the regular cast without text—and then appeared in every episode’s “starring” list; it seems like a very weird CW “you’re a regular but not getting paid for every episode” deal, I figured it’d have something to do with Constantine.

But this episode, when he finally shows up as a socially awkward, shy, and goofy scientist who can’t stand up to boss Thomas Edison (Chris Britton)? Well, it seems reasonably settled. Ryan really is playing a new character. It also has me wondering if his Constantine being retired means they’re trying for another movie.

Either way, Ryan’s new character is a fine addition. The rest of the cast keeps confusing him for a different departed “Legend” of yore, which becomes a fun running gag. There are high stakes this episode, ones it actually goes about resolving instead of dragging out for half the season, and the first act of the season seems to be coming to a close. Five episodes in seems a little late for my tastes, pacing-wise, but it was worth the wait. Especially once they stop messing around and reveal why Amy Louise Pemberton is so worried about getting to the team in New York.

Because they’re going to blow up after stealing Ryan’s time machine prototype, a fact Pemberton always possessed, had presumably told Olivia Swann and Lisseth Chavez about at least an episode ago, maybe two episodes ago, but the audience is just now finding out. It’s kind of a bummer they used such an eventually obvious, cheap device, but it’s also a fun subplot for Pemberton, Swann, and Chavez in this episode. They’ve got to get to New York by tomorrow and are running two weeks behind, so Swann casts a luck spell, and they have all sorts of adventures. It trades entirely on the trio’s considerable charm.

Especially since the main plot ends up being so heavy. After a fun introduction to Ryan’s new character, setting him up as a comic foil for Caity Lotz, it becomes this dire race against time—literally, of course—as Lotz has to save the team from her own impetuousness.

There’s also some relationship stuff for Tala Ashe and Nick Zano. Not high drama, but compelling and a nice side bit for Adam Tsekhman’s shipper gag. “Legends” is very good at being self-aware, maybe never more so than with Tsekhman, who just gets it.

The episode’s a little disappointing, if only because it’s such an excellent done-in-one time travel episode; the finale is a little too cryptical. The audience knows more about the season villain than the heroes, but the heroes know more about the next stage than the audience. It’s like they forgot to include an establishing shot somewhere.

Very solid direction from Andrew Kasch, and Lotz and new Ryan have good chemistry. The concept’s strong, even if the landing is rocky.

Doom Patrol (2019) s03e10 – Amends Patrol

This season finale of “Doom Patrol” is not perfect because it realizes all my hopes for the season; it’s perfect and just happens to realize all my hopes for the season. First and foremost, it doesn’t play chicken with the network (or, in this case, streaming service) as far as renewal. We get closure. There are open plot threads, with things primarily unresolved for about half the team, but nothing to ruin a binge or rewatch if they didn’t get a fourth season. Not like they did last time, though Rona played a part there.

The episode opens with a resolution to the previous episode’s cliffhanger and a return of the Sisterhood of Dada. Well, at least Wynn Everett, who’s got some strong words for April Bowlby while also working on her low-key seduction of Diane Guerrero (who can exist in Everett’s inter-dimensional fog separate from her host). Everett takes Bowlby to task for everything Bowlby needs to be taken to task about and sets up a resolution for that arc.

Bowlby gets her whole arc this season, ditto Matt Bomer and Matthew Zuk, ditto Michelle Gomez. Brendan Fraser and Riley Shanahan get some resolution, but there are also some open issues. Guerrero and Joivan Wade are similarly in the resolved enough camp. Good enough for a finale. It’s really Bowlby, Gomez, Bomer, and Fraser’s episode, with the show really leveraging Gomez and Bowlby. Gomez “wins” in terms of best performance, but it’s also because she’s got something of a softball compared to Bowlby, who’s still gazing into the abyss.

Especially after Bowlby confronts the villainous Brain, who’s assumed Fraser’s robot body, meaning Zuk gets to go wild with the physical performance this episode. The way the show’s been able to introduce the Brain and sidekick Monsieur Mallah into the main narrative and get them a complete arc in, what, three episodes, is incredibly impressive. It’s not as remarkable as the closure on the Bowlby and Gomez time-traveling stuff, but it’s still fantastic work. The time travel stuff and the layers upon layers of character development running through it are “Doom Patrol: Season Three”’s singular achievement. I didn’t think they’d ever be able to pull it off, and they do. Just right, scene after scene, beat after beat.

Guerrero’s got a reasonably good arc about placating bossy fellow persona Catherine Carlen before getting a nice tense, cliffhanger-ready plotline with Fraser. Wade’s entirely support this episode, starting with Bomer and Zuk, but it’s good support; Bomer’s got to make some big life decisions, which juxtapose nicely with Wade’s recent big life decisions. So while Wade doesn’t get his own thing here, he’s set to have an exciting arc next season.

“Doom Patrol”’s successes here are, obviously, hard to compare to anything else because “Doom Patrol”’s not really like anything else. Even as it plays with the same toys as other superhero media, its character development-driven stakes are entirely different. Not to mention the acting’s mostly spectacular and leagues beyond other franchises.

It’s an actually wonderful show, and I can’t wait for season four. I mean, I can because season three wraps up so nicely—the thing could jump every shark (impossible thanks to the cast, of course), and there’d still be a fantastic thirty-five-episode complete narrative. “Doom Patrol”’s such rare delight.

Rocky IV (1985, Sylvester Stallone), the director’s cut

Sylvester Stallone’s director’s cut of Rocky IV arrives four sequels and thirty-five years after the film’s original release. Stallone says it’s for the thirty-fifth anniversary; Robert Doornick (who voiced Burt Young’s robot in the original cut and owns the copyright on the robot) says it’s because Stallone didn’t want to renew with him and had to cut out all the robot scenes.

So, if “Rocky vs. Drago” replaces the original cut in streaming services… we’ll find out.

There are some other changes to the movie besides the goofy robot being gone, like a trimmed-down version of Rocky III tacked onto the beginning. It’s weird because it goes on way too long and isn’t a good encapsulation of the film–it also emphasizes Stallone’s relationship with Carl Weathers to enlarge their relationship in the Rocky IV footage. Only there’s no actual echoing between the two. Because Stallone doesn’t change Rocky IV’s story or its beats, he just excises a few of them. He doesn’t do anything to fix the problems, which are obviously insurmountable because it’s fairly terrible.

Stallone’s writing, direction, John W. Wheeler, and Don Zimmerman’s editing are all quite bad. There’s no new editor credited with the Rocky vs. Drago cuts, but whoever did Final Cut Proing or Adobe Premiering doesn’t have much in the way of timing. Though, since this version comes after Creed II, which is a sequel to this film, bringing back Dolph Lundgren decades later, you could almost read something into how Lundgren’s cut to see if it implies character development. Only it doesn’t. And Rocky vs. Drago isn’t like cut to tie into Creed II. Stallone’s just cobbling something together here—does anyone believe he didn’t have the full director’s cut of the original in 1985, with that craptacular “We Can All Change” speech to the Soviet people, who embrace Rocky over Gorby? So why not tie into Rocky V. Nothing would be better than seeing all the stupid patriotism end with Stallone brain-damaged. It’d explain his final speech.

The movie also misses out on soundtrack revising, which… I mean, why not. Something to juice it up.

Also, that last fight is poorly done, especially after seeing Stallone learn how to direct action in the intervening decades since he shot this film. It’s not exactly any more embarrassing than the original Rocky IV, but it’s definitely pointless.

Especially since it’s all about Stallone, Weathers, and Lundgren all basically just being toxically masculine narcissists. It might be a little different for Stallone and Lundgren—because Weather’s hubris literally gets him killed, which doesn’t not have a racial component to it. Like, Weather is openly Black here. Bad dad. Stallone’s a bad dad too. Stallone made movies about these guys being bad dads. It’s such a weak revisit.

Maybe I’m just embarrassed I thought it might be any different, like Stallone might’ve actually tried. Because even with the miserable mise-en-scène of Rocky IV, there are obvious places you could just cut it better if you had access to the footage.

Finally, because I can’t any more with the rest of it, does Talia Shire come off as miserable in the original version? Like she’s raising a son and then tending a douchebag husband? Not to mention Young.

Oh, okay, this bit is the last—Young. Stallone stops playing him for laughs but keeps the pratfalls, which just makes him seem like a despondent drunk the whole time.

So fingers crossed Doornick’s for real, and they pull the original, robotic Rocky IV and only Rocky vs. Drago remains. It’s a futile gesture of egomania from Stallone, which, coincidentally, describes the film in either cut.

Rocky IV’s awful.

The Limey (1999, Steven Soderbergh)

The Limey is all about the foreshadowing. It’s about flashbacks, flash-forwards, and flash asides, but the foreshadowing figures into all of those devices. It’s got a “twist” ending, which then informs previous scenes but not like figuring out Terence Stamp is a ghost or whatever. Instead, it’s knowing something about why he half-smiles—and only something, another thing about The Limey is it’s Stamp’s story. To the point of excluding the audience. There’s a lot we don’t see in The Limey, but it happens. Arguably the most interesting aspects of Stamp’s character development occur offscreen. We get to see the action, which is the MacGuffin.

Juxtaposed against Stamp is Peter Fonda, and we get to see all his character stuff on screen, even though he’s an utter twerp from his first scene and will continue to be throughout the film.

Stamp is a recently released career criminal from the UK, come to Los Angeles to find out what happened to his daughter, Melissa George. Before the present action, George dies in a car accident. Not suspiciously enough for the cops to care, but enough for Stamp to fly over to find out what happened.

Fonda is George’s boyfriend. He’s a successful music producer, rich enough to be oblivious to reality, dim enough to make bad decisions, a sixties leftover who hasn’t done anything worth talking about since then. He’s already moved on to a new girlfriend—Amelia Heinle, who’s his friends’ daughter; he suggested her name to them when she was born. At first, it seems like he’s a major creep instead of just a weak one.

The juxtaposition is Stamp and Fonda living their respective legacies of the late sixties, Stamp a seemingly unstoppable old man vengeance, Fonda a narcissistic jackass.

The film’s first act is Stamp getting to Los Angeles and meeting George’s friends, Luis Guzmán and Lesley Ann Warren. Guzmán is an ex-con gone straight and sticking to it (very much unlike Stamp, who we learn spent most of his life and George’s in the nick), and Warren is a functioning LA action coach. Her sixties dreams didn’t come true, but she’s at least contributing to the world, not sucking from it (like Fonda).

Guzmán quickly becomes Stamp’s sidekick in the movie sense, but there’s a deeper emotional bond between the men the film doesn’t let us see. The Limey’s got a very detached narrative distance; director Soderbergh and writer Lem Dobbs forcibly push the audience away too. They make an effort to keep the viewer off guard, to keep The Limey in an almost dreamlike state, which then ties into Fonda’s wistful remembrances of the sixties.

Well, 1966 and some of 1967.

When Stamp meets Guzmán and Warren, the film flashes forward to different settings and activities, their conversations bopping forward and back until the conversation flows through the time and place jumps. Because The Limey’s all about memories; well, foreshadowing and memories.

Stamp’s investigation will eventually get him some attention from Barry Newman, who’s Fonda’s fixer. Newman brings in local psychopaths Nicky Katt and Joe Dallesandro to deal with the problem, which has some unexpected results. The acting in The Limey is incredibly measured and restrained. Stamp loses his temper at most twice and possibly then only in a daydream. Fonda has his freak-outs, but he’s usually trying to impress Heinle, so he keeps it in check. Newman’s restrained too, because as long as he can hire Katt, there’s nothing to get worked up about.

So Katt and Dallesandro are then Limey’s wild cards and where Soderbergh lets the performances get the loosest. One of Katt’s scenes is just a series of jaw-dropping but mundane observations from a psychopath. It’s momentarily funny, quickly becoming very concerning, with Katt establishing himself not just a clear and present danger to the good guys but to everyone standing near them. The Limey runs a confined ninety minutes and wraps its main story up with a tidy bow, but Katt and Dallesandro’s presence does a whole lot implying the world that story takes place in.

Ditto uncredited Bill Duke, who shows up at one point for a fantastic scene.

Speaking of uncredited one scene cameos, The Limey goes out of its way to include an “Entertainment Tonight” interview with George Clooney—after he and Soderbergh had made their first movie together—it goes on so long it seems intentional. But then even the shortest sequences in The Limey are fully intentional.

After the first act, after Stamp’s mission and compatriots are set up, the film introduces flashback footage to a young Stamp (as Limey is pre-obsequious CGI- de-aging, it’s footage from Ken Loach’s Poor Cow). Stamp occasionally talks through the clips, though sometimes they’re presented without context; they’re limited because they’re not really for this story. They’re about being young and making bad decisions—Stamp’s didn’t pay off, Fonda’s did. They’re presented without audible dialogue, just like flashbacks to George’s life in Los Angeles before her death, and also with Stamp’s memories of her as a child. Again, it’s all about the memories.

And regrets.

So, foreshadowing, memory, and regrets.

Soderbergh and editor Sarah Flack cut the hell out of the first act, presenting The Limey as a jumble of Stamp’s thoughts, with Fonda’s half of the film eventually leading to it calming down a bit. But while The Limey always looks good (photography by Edward Lachlan) and sounds excellent (Cliff Martinez’s score is terrific, and the sixties pop soundtrack is outstanding), it’s how Soderbergh and Flack use the editing to guide the narrative and establish the distance.

It really makes you wonder how Dobbs’s script worked; was it fragmented, or did Soderbergh break it up later.

Great performances from everyone. Stamp’s mesmerizing. Fonda, Newman, Guzmán, Katt, Heinle, and Warren are all excellent too. Warren gets the least to do, active character-wise, but is phenomenal doing it. Heinle gets the least character (she could be a figment of Fonda’s imagination for her first two scenes) but makes herself an essential insight to Fonda.

The Limey’s spectacular. Soderbergh and Stamp take it seriously but also not too seriously, and then once everything’s revealed, it’s more affecting than seemed possible. So good.

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings (2021, Destin Daniel Cretton)

The third act of Shang-Chi makes it real obvious what’s been wrong with the movie the whole time–it doesn’t matter if Simu Liu is onscreen. The third act has a bunch of different characters fighting a bunch of different bad guys, and Liu disappears for a few minutes to do the whole “how’s the hero going to get inspired from the edge of death” bit and… the movie doesn’t need him. Because even though Liu’s Shang-Chi, the star, he’s never the interesting character in a scene.

The film starts with Tony Leung Chiu-wai (who apparently spoke English this whole time, which is devastating because he finally “comes” to America, and it’s this movie). He’s a near-immortal warlord who wants to capture a mythic village so he can see dragons or something. It’s an Alexander wept moment, don’t ask questions. Leung gives a captivating performance in an absolutely crap part. He went nine hundred and seventy-five years without ever doing any character development, and now he’s rushing to get some in.

Anyway. Still the opening. Leung meets Fala Chen in the village, and they have a wuxia fight. Or at least as close as Shang-Chi gets to a wuxia fight. Director Cretton at least tries with this fight. None of the other fight scenes in Shang-Chi have any real… what’s the word. Effort. The other fights don’t have a style goal. Or at least they don’t have a visible style goal. If Cretton was actually going for something, it’d be worse because he, cinematographer Bill Pope, and the three editors (Elísabet Ronaldsdóttir, Nat Sanders, and Harry Yoon) never achieve it. Or even make it clear they’ve got actual ambitions other than getting to the next scene.

Leung and Chen fall in love, and throughout the film—via flashbacks—we learn he gave up a life of international crime bossing for her, settled down, had a couple kids who grow up to be Liu and Meng’er Zhang. Chen dies under mysterious circumstances, but only to the audience; it’s just the flashback doesn’t want to tell us yet. Because Dave Callaham and Cretton’s script is tediously manipulative. There aren’t any surprises in Shang-Chi, which just makes it all the more amazing it’s able to get to so many compelling moments thanks to the cast and, I don’t know, a competent production’s momentum. And it’s a low competent. Like, Disney did not pony up for real effects money on Shang-Chi. The composites are so bad it’s almost a Warner Bros. superhero movie. Almost.

In the present, Liu’s a San Francisco valet parker who spends all his time hanging out with best friend, Awkwafina. They’re just friends. It’s never explained why they’re just friends, possibly because Liu, Awkwafina, and Zhang are weirdly asexual, but they basically lead this amusing sitcom life. Just with fast cars. What’s weird about the Liu and Awkwafina stuff is the actors can obviously do comedy—Awkwafina from this movie and, you know, Liu from “Kim’s”—but Cretton doesn’t know how to do it. Or more, he doesn’t try to do it. It’s the aforementioned lack of effort kicking in again. Instead of it actually being funny, it’s a too-brief nod at funny.

Really quickly, Liu has to fight some bad guys on a bus, which ends up forecasting Cretton’s inability to do action sequences, and then he and Awkwafina are off to Macau to meet up with previously unrevealed sister Zhang.

They then meet up with dad Leung, who reveals he’s going to go get all the dinosaurs from Isla Sorna. Sorry, wait, I’m thinking Lost World: Jurassic Park but Cretton cribs a scene from there, so I got confused. Leung wants to invade the village and rescue the soul of dead wife Chen from the shitty villagers who wouldn’t let them live there because he’s a warlord.

Even though Awkwafina’s already the comic relief, they need more, so Ben Kingsley comes back from Iron Man 3 (more specifically, the superior Marvel short, All Hail the King), and occasional smiles occur during the subsequent action. Up until they get to the secret village, where Michelle Yeoh enters the movie, and all of a sudden, it’s interesting. Because even though Leung’s mesmerizing, it’s a lousy part. Yeoh’s part isn’t good, but it’s not a terribly underwritten villain part. She’s the cool aunt. She’s basically the hero of the last third of the runtime.

Eventually, Liu will be critical in saving the world from dragons or whatever, but he doesn’t have to act while doing it. Most of the time, he’s just a part-CGI model in extreme long shot.

There’s no one who doesn’t take over the scenes with Liu. Awkwafina from go, then Zhang, then Leung, then Yeoh, but also the supporting actors in scenes, like bit player Ronny Chieng. There’s an astounding lack of direction from Cretton when it comes to his actors. All of them muscle through—I mean, relatively, like Zhang’s likable but not particularly good and Awkwafina is one-note—just not Liu. He’s so unimportant in his own movie it can lose him, and it doesn’t matter, which makes the hero’s quest finale all the more lackluster.

Shang-Chi’s never bad—it’s incredibly safe—but it feels like it’s never bad because Cretton and company figured out a way to produce the film without any stakes. Certainly not for Cretton. Or Liu.

For a specific viewer, Leung will more than make it worth it. Even when he becomes CGI. Or more, he doesn’t become CGI for long enough for it to hurt him. Ditto Yeoh, actually, whose big action sequence ends up being as a too-small CGI model. Then there’s Kingsley; his return is fun but underwritten because Cretton and Callaham are dreadful at comedy.

Also, since the flashbacks to Chen’s story go on for so long—it’s third act before we get the whole story and the movie completely, and very intentionally wimps out on the implications—even though Chen’s okay, she just reminds if they’d gotten Maggie Cheung for the part… I mean, then you’d have a movie worth Tony Leung Chiu-wai. But no. Because it’s a rote and joyless outing, albeit an aridly competent one.

Superman & Lois (2021) s01e10 – O Mother, Where Art Thou?

Turns out when “Superman and Lois” wants to do a fairly straightforward “Superman” episode, they can do it. Like it balances out well, even if Elizabeth Tulloch gets shockingly little to do but stand around in a show where her character’s name is in the title. And there are some performance problems, but it’s a solid action suspense episode.

The episode starts with a resolve to last episode’s two cliffhangers, beginning with season villain Adam Rayner dropping a truth bomb on Tyler Hoechlin. Everything Hoechlin always knew to be true was a lie—or at least a truth from a certain, lying point of view—and he spends the first ten or fifteen minutes recovering from it. There’s not a lot of time because eventually, they’re going to have to run Emmanuelle Chriqui through the Kryptonian brainwashing machine to stop Rayner.

Despite being relatively thrilling—it’s the end of the world as we know it, after all—Chriqui’s pretty terrible in her new part this episode. One of the things I’ve always liked about CW Arrowverse shows—outside “Arrow,” I suppose—is they clearly tested the actors with material not in the pilot. They really should’ve tested Chriqui with this plot development. She completely fumbles it. The new part—essentially an extended cameo—is difficult, sure, and underwritten (Adam Mallinger gets the script credit, which bungles a lot while still being effectively plotted)… but Chriqui’s bad in it.

And it’s an otherwise well-acted episode. Like, even Angus Macfadyen. Okay, maybe Macfadyen isn’t good, but he’s better than he’s ever been before, as he reveals his Jor-El is kind of… not super… smart? Like, if Macfadyen’s overcompensating, his performance makes a lot more sense. As well as Hoechlin being sort of mediocre at being Superman without Dylan Walsh around to tell him what to do.

A lot of the runtime is Inde Navarrette trying to figure out what’s going on with her parents, as mom Chriqui teams up with Hoechlin, Tulloch, and Walsh—since Rayner’s basically uncovered as the season villain now—and dad Erik Valdez has been possessed by an evil Kryptonian. Of course, no one was going to tell Navarrette until Jordan Elsass (fed up with adults lying and not learning from their mistakes) tells her the whole story. It’s a good arc for Elsass and eventually Navarrette, with Alex Garfin doing an all-right support job.

As for Rayner… I mean, given the way the plot’s going I guess he’s better post-big reveal. He’s still not really good, but it’s also a fairly bland character. It’d be nice if “Superman and Lois” had something up its sleeve besides recycled Man of Steel or “Supergirl” plots.

But still, pretty good “Superman” action episode. Pretty, pretty good.

Doctor Who (2005) s13e02 – War of the Sontarans

So, one thing I don’t understand about “Doctor Who: Flux” is writer Chris Chibnall’s Marvel Cinematic Universe nods. Last episode, they established the only good special effects were going to be the Thanos disintegration effect (presumably the VFX staff bought an iPhone app for ninety-nine cents to get it done), but this episode…. Well, this episode goes overboard right from the start.

The first scene has Doctor Jodie Whittaker and companions Mandip Gill and John Bishop waking up at the end of the universe. It looks just like the end of the universe in “Loki.” Of course, it turns out not to be the end of the universe, and instead, they’ve been thrown in time back to the Crimean War, but it looks just like “Loki.”

And then the episode ends with a snap. After a bunch of Thanos disintegrating. And the snap is a Snap.

I can’t tell if Chibnall is doing terrible, desperate homage or if he really thinks… there’s no crossover between “Doctor Who” viewers and, you know, people who have seen the second and fifth highest-grossing movies of all time. Because even if they didn’t watch “Loki,” those lucky bastards, they might recognize the Snap.

Anyway.

The Crimean stuff is excellent. Best “Who” in ages, with Whittaker teaming up with historical figure Mary Seacole (played by Sara Powell; also Seacole was a subject on “Horrible Histories” if anyone needs to Google a refresher) as she discovers the Sontarans have done a temporal assault and are the bad guys in the Crimean War now, not the Russians. Were the Russians the bad guys in the Crimean War? I mean, they were from the British perspective, but… you know what, never mind.

Whittaker and Powell have to deal with an asshat British general (Gerald Kyd) in addition to the Sontarans. Now, these Sontarans aren’t from the past, they’re from the present (or future) and know the Doctor is their enemy, but they don’t realize the Doctor might be a girl now. Whittaker’s a lot better without her companions to clutter the scenes, and both Powell and Kyd are excellent.

Meanwhile, new companion Bishop goes back to the future, where he amusingly teams up with his parents (Sue Jenkins and Paul Broughton) to fight the Sontarans there. Lots of lousy CGI but Bishop’s slightly more amusing with the ‘rents than with Whittaker and Gill, or on his own. It’s actually a rather tense plotline, which has Bishop having to coordinate with Whittaker in the past.

Gill’s off at a magical time temple where she meets agents from the Time Bureau before—just kidding, she meets future human dude Jacob Anderson, and they have to try to repair the cheap holograms for the flying, talking triangles. The talking triangles don’t cast shadows, which is initially one of the big effects fails. There are more extensive effects fails later on, but the lack of shadows is the first hint at the eventual problems.

The time temple is also where time-traveling super-villain and Red Skull wannabe in a cheap Halloween mask Sam Spruell figures in. He and sidekick Rochenda Sandall do a lot of super-villain posturing, and it seems like the whole thing has to be a gag because it’s crappy camp.

But the Crimean War period stuff is solid, although it feels like Whittaker doing a leftover Peter Capaldi script. Whatever works, though. Whatever works.

Superman & Lois (2021) s01e09 – Loyal Subjekts

Right up until the second, harder cliffhanger—the first cliffhanger ought to be a hard one, but ends up being soft, which actually might end up being better given the characters involved—but right up until the finale, it’s a really effective episode with solid acting throughout. And a good explanation for why bad guy Adam Rayner is so fixated on Smallville, even though his insidious, ominous headquarters is clearly in some office park. Not quite LexCorp Towers, or whatever.

Heck, they may even explain—or start to explain—why Rayner’s okay with it.

But there’s also solid character drama for everyone in the episode. Tyler Hoechlin is recovering from experimental synthetic Kryptonite gas, making him more susceptible to damage than usual. It turns out he passed the “infection” on to super-son Alex Garfin. Lousy timing since Garfin needs to play piano at Inde Navarrette’s school recital; he stepped up when Navarrette’s dad, Erik Valdez, flaked out on helping her (again). So when Garfin gets too sick, Elizabeth Tulloch decides it’s time to cut dad Dylan Walsh (who made the Kryptonite gas to kill her husband if need be) out of her life, which really upsets both of them. Caught in the middle is Jordan Elsass, who’s recovering from a wounded teenage boy ego hit already, and having family drama really isn’t helping things.

Neither is Rayner deciding it’s time to move on to the next phase in his plan and deal with Tulloch. She’s been frustrated at not getting the dirt on Rayner’s evil plans, so she goes and curses him out in the office park, leading Rayner to suspect Emmanuelle Chriqui has been snooping for her.

Lots and lots of drama, eventually lots of suspense, and some decent Super-action from director Eric Dean Seaton. There’s still the muscle suit shoulders issue (though Hoechlin does a buff shirtless scene, so you wonder why they have the pads unless maybe his chest’s CGI), but the actual action stuff is cool.

Though the suit is too grey. They need to brighten up the super-suit.

The acting’s strong across the board, with only Hoechlin and Tulloch slow-burning to get there. As usual, it’s not entirely their fault. Tulloch gets a bunch of exposition dumps before some id broadcasting. Then Hoechlin’s, you know, stuck acting opposite Angus Macfadyen’s voice, and Macfayden’s performance can always drag a scene down. But they both get to good places. Elsass, Navarrette, Garfin, Walsh, Chriqui, and Valdez all do consistently good work, in that order. It’s almost like when Valdez isn’t implying his MAGA hat without wearing it, he does a good job.

Also, guest star Leeah Wong. She’s really effective as one of Rayner’s test subjects.

Rayner… well, he’s wanting. Very wanting. Maybe he’ll turn it around as the season enters the grand finale. Probably not, but maybe.