Compelling documentaries are few and far between, for every Hoop Dreams, Grizzly Man, When We Were Kings,or God Speed You! Black Emperor there are dozens of not particularly interesting ones in between. Director Emily Sheskin’s JessZilla, on the other hand, is a fascinating yet poignant watch, that stays with you long after viewing it.
JessZilla chronicles the ups and downs of an aspiring teenage female professional boxer named Jesslyn Silva. We follow Jess both through the highs of winning three national titles and becoming a local celebrity, but also the lows of dealing with a flaky trainer, the effects of Covid, and providing emotional support for her single father Pedro.
As Jesslyn hopes to make the American Olympic team however, she is diagnosed with a severe and rare form of brain cancer with no possible treatment, stopping her life and career before either had barely got started. The diagnosis reorientates Jesslyn’s career path into becoming a tireless advocate for children suffering from the same illness that she was.
JessZilla works as a documentary for two reasons above any others. One is that Sheskin doesn’t make herself the subject in any way, doesn’t insert any obtrusive narration, and allows the attention to be focused on Jesslyn and her family. The second is that both Jesslyn and her father Pedro are incredibly genuine, principled, and likeable individuals that you don’t mind spending an hour and a half in the company of at all.
Even if you don’t like boxing, the human interest aspect of this story is so engrossing that it doesn’t matter in the slightest. Overall, this is a documentary that will leave you feeling angry but inspired at the same time, angry that someone so young with so much to give can have their life so cruelly taken away, but inspired to make the absolute most of what life has to offer.
Superman has gone through his ups and downs (no pun intended) over the years when it comes to the big screen. Henry Cavill’s tenure as the character officially ended a few years ago, after a cameo appearance in Black Adam. Not long after that the DCEU was put to rest and a new rebooted universe was on the horizon. James Gunn was brought in not only to direct a new Superman movie but also to oversee the entirety of the new DC Cinematic Universe. Gunn is no stranger to the superhero genre having directed all three Guardians of the Galaxy movies for Marvel, as well as The Suicide Squad for DC. It would seem like he is the right person for the job and after watching this new movie it is safe to say that the DCU is in good hands.
In this new introduction to Superman, it thankfully is not an origin story. The story jumps right into Clark Kent (David Corenswet) working at The Daily Planet and entering a new conflict with Lex Luthor (Nicholas Hoult). Clark and Lois Lane (Rachel Brosnahan) are already together, and she knows that he is Superman. It sets up an interesting dynamic because the story does not have to go through all the set up on how Superman and Lex Luthor came to be. This is a huge advantage to the movie as origin stories often become too predictable and constantly feel like too much set up.
With this being the first movie in this new universe it not only sets up Superman but also the DCU at large. Gunn plants the seeds for what is to come in this universe as other superheroes are introduced and actually play a significant role in the story. It may seem like there is too much all at once, but Gunn does an excellent job in never making it feel like the movie overstuffed. Yes, there is a lot more than just Superman going on in the story, but the other parts never feel like they take away from his journey. Everything is balanced quite well, and Gunn really gets the most that he can out of this amazing cast.
David Corenswet steps into the role of Clark Kent/Superman and puts in a stellar performance. He fully encapsulates the character and does so with so much charisma and heart. His chemistry with Rachel Brosnahan is a highlight of the movie. They play off each other extremely well and are very reminiscent of Christopher Reeves and Margot Kidder from the original movies. Brosnahan on her own gives a great performance and is a scene stealer at times. Nicholas Hoult is ruthless as Lex Luthor. This is the most menacing performance he has ever given, and he really makes the character his own. The rest of the cast is littered with great performances by the likes of Nathan Fillion, Isabela Merced, and Pruitt Taylor Vance. Skyler Gisondo and Edi Gathegi deserve their own special praise. Playing Jimmy Olsen and Mister Terrific respectively, both steal every scene and leave the audience wanting more.
There is a point when it does feel like there may be one too many characters, but they never feel like they take anything away from the main cast. Some of the effects in a few scenes look a little wonky at times but the effects overall actually look solid. In the beginning the pacing feels a bit off as it feels like things are moving a bit too quickly. Once things settle in and the story gets going the pace moves much smoother. The addition of the dog Crypto makes for some humorous moments, however, some of the scenes involving him almost take away from the action and more serious moments.
Despite some hiccups along the way, Superman is a perfect summer blockbuster. Featuring an amazing cast, fun action set pieces, and some genuine heart to the story, this is not only a great introduction to Superman but also a great introduction to the DC Cinematic Universe.
With a new Superman hitting motion picture theatres once again, you may find yourself re-watching all of the Man of Steel’s previous cinematic adventures in preparation. But there’s so many – and if you’re putting on the George Reeves movie, why not his whole series? And if that means you’re watching that one, why not any of the other multitudinous series? With so many on-screen iterations, you may, like me, content yourself with just the trusty Salkind/Cannon pictures. In which case, you’d be remiss to excise Supergirl.
Everything about this picture screams, “Why?”. After Superman III, it would seem difficult to win the public back to the franchise. Harder still without Reeve himself, or Richards either Donner or Richard Lester. To the untrained mind that a tangentially related mess with few returning characters, cast or crew would not fare well at the box office after a critical failure. And that untrained mind would be entirely correct, owing to the tremendous loss of money at the box office.
For reference, Supergirl, or Kara, is a Kryptonian living in Argo City, which is sustained by a powerful item called the Omegahedron. The item finds its way to Earth following an accident, and Supergirl follows, intending to retrieve it, only to find that she’s been beaten to it by Selena, an amateur witch who harnesses its incredible power to make a gardener love her for a day. Hmmm.
I went into Supergirl with an attitude of irritation, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to sit through Superman IV with a quiet mind if I hadn’t ticked this movie off the list first. And within ten minutes I was glad I gave it a chance. The main reason? Helen Slater. Here is a film where you can see the incredible talents of Peter O’Toole, Peter Cook and Faye Dunaway completely failing to hold your attention. Meanwhile, Slater steals every shot she’s in, despite this being her feature film debut. Where Reeve marvellously drew a perfect distinction between his Clark and his Kal-El, Slater seems to be balancing two contrasting sides to Kara continuously throughout. On one hand, she’s naïve and in doe-eyed awe of Earth and its inhabitants, oblivious to its ways until they’re spelled out to her. And yet, at the same time, she carries a wisdom and ethereal quality that suggests nothing would surprise her. It is the way that she balances this dichotomy that forgives the inconsistencies in the way she’s scripted.
Speaking of inconsistency, it is perhaps the picture’s main sin, and you will find yourself asking a lot of obvious questions that remain unanswered. How are all these Kryptonians still alive, and aware of Kal-El’s actions and history on Earth? Where did Supergirl’s costume come from, and why is it identical to Superman’s? How can Supergirl shape shift? Why doesn’t Selena release the spider immediately so that the gardener doesn’t fall in love with Kara? And, most bothersome of all, why does Kara adopt a civilian identity at all? This last one irked me for the whole runtime. We’re well aware she has to find the Macguffin quickly, as her city has limited time to survive without it. And yet, despite it being of absolutely no benefit to her, one of her first actions on Earth is to pretend to be a schoolgirl, get comfortable in a dorm room and attend classes regularly.
The plot is nonsense, and devoid of any characters beyond Kara who hold any attention. But in some sense, that is secondary to a very important point: you will believe a girl can fly. At least, sometimes. Specifically, you’ll believe it when a stunt performer is on wires. It is these sections of film that are almost balletic in nature, and I’ll waive any clunky exposition that was needed to put her in the air. All the more disheartening, then, that the US theatrical release heavily cut them for runtime, although thankfully the studio seemed to think the international audience had patience enough to keep them. However, when she instead flies against a backdrop, it is merely a pale echo of what went thrice before. The lighting and colour on her doesn’t match the frame behind her, and the human brain is well aware of the trick, save for a few inexplicably sepia frames near the end where everything is awash in a filter and actually looks pretty good.
There’s a lot of chaff in Supergirl, but the title character is the wheat. Its greatest flaw is that doesn’t seem to recognise that. Every time she really gets super, it cuts right back to school, or worse, back to Dunaway and Brenda Vaccaro fawning over young men. Why? I can scarcely imagine. Considerable faith in a female-led superhero film when the genre itself was in its adolescence put her in the air, but keeping her there for longer than five minutes at a time seems to be a different matter.
Hemet, Or The Landlady Don’t Drink Tea: Review. By Josiah Teal.
Set in the almost zombie-apocalypse, Hemet is an irreverent horror comedy featuring more than a few foul-mouthed characters. Director Tony Olmos and writer Brian Patrick Butler populate the screen with influences ranging from Tarantino to Rob Zombie as bath salt-breathing zombies threaten a California apartment complex. Indie horror kills pile up as the tenants battle to survive the undead, each other, and their vicious Landlady. Hemet is a proudly violent and strange movie, made seemingly for the darker side of Tubi.
Hemet revolves around the residents of an apartment complex in sunny California. Due to the rise in cannibalistic savages (caused by using bath salts) and the near end of the world, residents of the complex face eviction with as much dread as facing a zombie-like attacker. Several plot threads emerge, ranging from killing perverts and attacking ex-boyfriends to an evil Landlady with a sinister plan. As more and more tenants begin to die or go missing, Hemet turns into a wild ride of quick kills and Texas Chainsaw Massacre influence.
In a world brought to the brink of destruction, Rosie (Kimberly Weinberger) is just trying to survive this nightmare and get her two parking spots. The overall film is an ensemble piece, but Rosie and the tyrannical Landlady, Liz (Brian Patrick Butler), are the two most fleshed-out characters, each acting and reacting within the bounds of their character. Few to no characters are redeeming in Hemet, but it’s clear from the start that Hemet is not the kind of movie where the audience roots for a protagonist; instead, it’s a story where the audience should be captivated by the chaos on camera. Yet without characters, the chaos is unfulfilling. Character motivations are vague. Some plot threads are barely concluded. And the apocalyptic setting is in name only.
Moments in Hemet feel very Clerks-esque; other moments are straight from the vibes of Tarantino, and even the horrifying hillbilly ethos of early Rob Zombie. A bloody, campy spirit tries to persevere throughout the film. Still, it never captures the panache needed for the stylish blend of violence and dialogue that makes a campy horror comedy sing. Casual uses of the R-word and gay slurs without context or characterization often detract from the style Hemet is going for, making moments of dialogue feel like shock for shock’s sake. The film has all the right inspiration to create the wacky, violent film promised, but lacks all the charm to make it a camp classic.
Camp is challenging to define. Determining what makes something a cult classic or separates the so-bad-it’s-good from the rough watches is a fine line. However, one of the most significant commonalities in the world of camp cinema is engagement. Whether it’s Rocky Horror,Harold & Maude, or The Evil Dead, the audience has a yearning kinship to the camp on screen. Hemet has all the premises and promises of a gruesome horror comedy with a Kevin Smith spark, but never gets beyond too many plot threads, a lack of character development, and missing out on the all-important zombies, vital for a film that opens with two men discussing the rise of bath salt zombies. Too often, Hemet gets in its own way, attempting to push an envelope or be edgy when instead it could have just been a strange, stylized tale of murder at the end of the world.
Kate Bush’s Little Shrew is a hauntingly beautiful short that fully utilises the powers of both music and animation to tell the story of a shrew trying to make her way through the remains of a war-torn city devastated by bombs in the pursuit of safety.
The contrast between this beautiful and innocent creature of nature making its way through manmade horror after manmade horror is a powerful one indeed. What makes the short so emotionally resonant however, is that despite the shrew being nearly shot and blown up, she keeps trying to find safe shelter no matter what.
Visually speaking, the animation provided by Inkubus studios perfectly complements Bush’s arrangements and the message of the lyrics themselves. The animation is entirely in black and white, and for the most part done via hand drawn (minus some uses of 3D animation for the devastated tower blocks and the plane sequence) and still photo techniques.
The best way I could describe the visuals is that they look like the end result of a collaboration between Raymond Briggs, Kentaro Miura, and Shaun Tan giving them a distinctive haunting storybook like quality.
Little Shrew in only four minutes paints a complete and devastating picture of the dehumanising effects of conflict. Produced in collaboration with the charity War Child (an organisation which seeks to help child refugees and children in conflict zones) Little Shrew is not only a stunning work of animation on its own, but also a fantastic piece of press for a worthwhile charitable cause.
