Author: Josiah Teal

Daredevil: Born Again Season 1 – Review. By Josiah Teal.

“Requel” refers to a film or series that serves as equal parts reboot and sequel. Sam Raimi has used the term to describe several Evil Dead films. The Scream franchise has had its fair share, and in a franchise-heavy Hollywood, “Requels” and “Legacy sequels” are more than on trend. Enter Daredevil: Born Again. While Disney is no stranger to the sequel and reboot game, Daredevil: Born Again holds a unique place within the MCU. Based on the Netflix series Daredevil, the new series continues Drew Goddard’s vision of a gritty, street-level take on the fantastical Marvel universe. A section of the MCU where influences from Noir films and Oldboy are as likely as influences from the comics themselves. With Charlie Cox, Matt Murdock, and Vincent D’Onofrio returning to the main cast, fans began Born Again with cautious optimism as Disney sought to bring Hell’s Kitchen back to the MCU in more than cameos. (Minor spoilers ahead)

Daredevil: Born Again picks up years after the season 3 finale of Daredevil. Nelson & Murdock Attorneys at Law are prepping for another case and ready to do a little pre-celebration at the local pub. But just as the celebration begins, everything is cut short when a familiar assassin attacks the bar—Daredevil & Bullseye battle in a seamless long-take, leaving plenty of carnage in their wake. As the battle closes, police arrest Bullseye, Foggy Nelson lies dead, and Matthew Murdock breaks his one rule: he tries to take a life. The series picks up weeks later as Murdock tries to piece his life back together after losing his best friend. Yet finding closure in Foggy’s death becomes more complex as Murdock must navigate his identity and accept the newly elected mayor of New York: Wilson Fisk (Vincent D’Onofrio).

As Born Again continues, the series features mini-arcs more than standalone episodes, each featuring new challenges and perspectives on the larger conversation of vigilantism, identity, corruption, and loss. The White Tiger arc plays like a courtroom drama, the Muse arc is like a serial killer thriller, and the finale builds toward the overall story of Murdock and Fisk, remaining true to the identities forged in Drew Goddard’s original series. “With Interest” showcases an exciting take on the heist genre. “Optics” comments on the alt-right hijacking of the Punisher logo. And “Straight to Hell” sets up the coming war between Fisk and Murdock. Prior knowledge of the original series is a nice bonus for fans, but non-MCU devotees can step in without prior knowledge and still enjoy every bit of the series.

Performances in Born Again center around the two leads: Cox and D’Onofrio. Charlie Cox stepping back into the role of Matt Murdock feels like a good omen for the future of the MCU as the global franchise enters its fifth phase. Cox brings his usual vulnerability and remorse to the role, while continuing to bring plenty of heart to the “Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.” Vincent D’Onofrio brings gravitas to the role he made iconic, playing a now politically charged Kingpin. Each actor masterfully plays off the other, building the tension between the two adversaries as the series progresses. While each arc contributes to the larger story, Born Again is a pure character study of Murdock and Fisk, and the masks they wear.

The supporting cast features several standouts, matching the intensity of Cox and D’Onofrio well and rounding out each arc. The late Kamar de los Reyes is outstanding as Hector Ayala/White Tiger, delivering some of the most emotional beats of the series. Michael Gandolfini follows in his father’s footsteps, lending the perfect amount of chasmic sleaze to the eager Fisk intern, Daniel Blake. Ayelet Zurer adds layers to Vanessa Fisk, The Wire alum Clark Johnson is a great semi-jaded P.I. and cameos from Jon Bernthal are always welcome (especially when he’s going full Frank Castle). Genneya Walton adds tons of realism to the series with the addition of BBNews, a documentary-style broadcast that interludes with the major arcs of the series. Walton, as BB, brings a journalistic flair to the role, setting up major promises for season 2.

Those expecting the same level of brutal action from 2015’s Daredevil may find a little less brutality, but still plenty of stakes. All the action in Born Again is purpose-driven and focuses on the internal choices as he wrestles between being the protector and his own thirst for violence. The opening fight with Bullseye is incredible, displaying showrunner Dario Scardapane’s commitment to the original series. While the reveal of the Muse’s identity is predictable, each fight sequence is fluid and mesmerizing, adding to the eeriness of the killer. In addition to the martial arts action, Born Again wears Noir tropes in every frame, pairing action with emotional character studies between kicks and punches.

Born Again fits nicely into the MCU and fills a need for a more adult-centered, gritty hero. It’s a worthy continuation of Goddard’s work and honors the legacy of Daredevil played out in comics over the decades. Performances continue to amaze as Cox and D’Onofrio lead the cast in prestige TV-worthy character arcs. Daredevil fans will find plenty to enjoy in the familiar street-level superhero fights. In contrast, those new to the character will find an engaging story of law & order in a world of vigilantism. Clear comparisons to real-life ground the series, yet connections to the broader MCU and original series feel organic to the narrative. Born Again walks a tightrope all requels tread, but does so with style. Needle drops like “Staring at the Sun” by TV on the Radio and “The Rocky Road to Dublin” by Young Dubliners do not go unnoticed as the series brings stylish, modern crime-film influences to a franchise of Infinity Stones and 27-film arcs. The finale sets up a climactic season 2 and a biblical showdown between Fisk and Murdock. Daredevil: Born Again is a must-see TV for MCU disciples and prestigious TV gurus. 

Humantis: Review. By Josiah Teal.

Humantis are small, fair-like creatures that blend humanlike qualities with nature. They live in a dark and beautiful forest. But most of all, humantis and their mystical world are brought to the screen by Paris Baillie and her masterful work in stop-motion animation.

This is a nine-minute short without dialogue and a score worthy of any John Carpenter acolyte. Through seamless animation, Baillie depicts the story of a humantis going through harsh physical changes and learning to adapt to their new form.

Baillie’s animation is the biggest highlight of Humantis. The dance sequences are excellent, showcasing Guillermo Del Toro’s influence and conveying wonder in each frame. Between the score and eerie visual storytelling, Humantis is hypnotic, crafting a story told entirely through body language.

Themes of adaptation, nature, and body dysmorphia run through the narrative, making it a short film with tons of potential for analysis.

The short is an impressive feat of filmmaking and completely Paris Baillie. She is the writer, director, editor, composer, and cinematographer. It’s a one-woman film showcasing creativity from fade-in to closing credits.

It has an avant-garde spirit but is more than accessible to those new to the festival circuit, making the film perfect for any cinephile’s night of short films or a fun intro to the world of indie filmmaking. 

Humantises are masters of deception. But can they hide from change? When one Humantis unexpectedly goes through a physical transformation, it struggles to adapt and grow into its new self.

Izidor: Review. By Josiah Teal.

In 1988, Romania was under a Communist dictatorship, and all families were required to have five children in hopes of creating an army for the future. All those born with disabilities were sent to asylums, often never seeing outside the walls of their cells. Izidor (Iosua Barbu) lived in such an asylum and had never felt the sun on his skin until he turned 8.

When Izidor finally has the freedom to see the outside world, he takes every moment to see the beauty in what many would call mundane. Izidor tells the story of the young boy’s first adventure into the world as a courageous nanny takes him outside for the first time.

Director David Kabbe blends live-action and animation throughout Izidor, depicting the asylum in grayish computer animation and the outside with lush, colorful live-action. The juxtaposition of color in the hopeless asylum and beautiful soaring shots outside drives home the story’s most prominent theme: freedom. Yet, the animation at the opening and closing of the short film is distracting to the overall narrative.

In a time when audiences expect gorgeous animation from even small studios, Izidor‘s animation seems more akin to straight-to-video movies of the early 2000s. Izidor‘s themes of freedom, opportunity, and childlike wonder are powerful. Still, the shots and soundtrack are often comparable to a 90s feel-good family movie, almost like the “Golden Comedies” of Chris Columbus (even down to the sweeping orchestral melodies that highlight the soundtrack). Fusing whimsical musings about a horse named “Sugar” with heavier themes makes the overall tone seem asymmetrical.

Izidor is such an important story. On plot alone, it could be a moving short film. The idea of one day of bliss while surviving an asylum is enough to fill even the most hard of hearts with empathy. But the animation and mixed tone detract from the gravity of the narrative. Most of the characterization happens in the closing with real-life Izidor or in the prologue, making any of the adventures seem like a “slice of life” in a non-slice-of-life movie.

Characterization is tricky in such a short runtime, but the character arcs suffer when the protagonist’s introduction is in distracting animation, and his later adventures feel uneven. The plot alone does not make a narrative or gripping short film. While Izidor has a strong premise, it needs more symmetry to fully shine.

The Electric State: The BRWC Review. By Josiah Teal.

The Electric State has everything a studio thinks would make a hit. The film features the Russo Brothers directing and once again collaborating with their MCU writing partners from the Captain America films and the conclusion to the Infinity Saga. The cast list boasts bankable stars in the leads with Millie Bobby Brown and Chris Pratt and a plethora of co-stars such as Woody Harrelson, Stanley Tucci, Ke Huy Quan, and Giancarlo Esposito. And the film has a built-in-audience from the 2018 novel of the same name, is presented by Netflix, and features a 300-million-dollar budget. But can it deliver? Can it be the dawn of a new franchise ready for sequels, spin-offs, merchandise, etc.? 

It’s 1990, or a retro-futuristic 1990, set just before the massive war between robots and humans. Chris (Woody Norman) is a child prodigy, preparing for college and getting a pep talk from his sister, Michelle (Millie Bobby Brown). Still, while Chris is ready for the next stage in his young life, a sense of foreboding begins as the rise of anti-robot sentiment sturs on campus. What follows is a montage of human-robot relations over the last 100 years, beginning with robots opening at Disneyland, continuing into robots’ rights rallies, and ending in an all-out war for the planet. When the war ended, and the bombs stopped, a tentative treaty existed between the humans and the machines they enslaved.  

Michelle’s story picks up after the war. The world she grew up in is gone, replaced by a dystopia and the loss of everyone she loved. She lives with a neglectful father (Jason Alexander) and disconnects from the technology of the sub-modern. But when a malfunctioning robot claims her brother is alive, Michelle must travel across the country to “The Exclusion Zone,” a prison for robots, to find her brother and potentially save the world. The Electric State takes notes from later Spy Kids films, the MCU (not shocking), and more than a little Spielberg as Michelle battles to survive in a nostalgic wasteland. 

Millie Bobby Brown plays the rebellious yet caring Michelle as she travels across the war-ravaged landscape. While traveling, Michelle comes across ex-soldier Chris Pratt’s Keates (complete with a needle drop of Danzig’s “Mother”). Chris Pratt plays the quippy now arms dealer with the usual Pratt charisma and rounds out the ensemble with his robot compatriot Herman (Martin Klebba). The cast finally rounds out to form a rag-tag group headed for adventure, but not without several more cameos and supporting roles from familiar faces from across Hollywood. 

Chris Pratt and Millie Bobby Brown each play familiar characters in their filmography; Pratt is a lovable jerk (a la Starlord), and Millie Bobby Brown is a perfect vehicle for the plot. Performances are strong throughout the narrative and the cast, with highlights coming from Giancarlo Esposito, adding gravitas to an otherwise one-note villain, and Stanley Tucci is excellent as always. Ke Hey Quan adds believability/buy-in to some ridiculous story explanations. The Electric State excels in the casting department and pairs even mild action scenes with more than a few fun needle drops in the soundtrack. 

The Russo Brothers are known for creative and innovative action. Their brand of action is not necessarily the gritty gun-play of John Wick or bone-breaking choreography of The Raid, but still their innovative takes on the comic-book-inspired splash-page-esque action of The Paintball episodes of Community and the elevator fight in Winter Soldier. Though the scale and CGI of The Electric State match their previous work, the battles never soar to the heights of their previous films, making weaker moments feel more akin to Eli Roth’s Borderlands. Fight scenes have plenty of high stakes, the story has precise moments of progress, and Michelle’s character arc is well-defined. Still, The Electric State often lacks the difficult-to-quantify but always vital “fun” aspect. 

“Fun” is often hard to pinpoint. However, The Electric State usually tries to find its fun through attempts at Spielbergian sentimentality and a collage of Ready Player One pop culture infusion (though much lighter than Ernest Cline’s novel or the film adaptation). The film features bits of Bruce Willis’ Surrogates, a little District 9, and even a little Five Nights at Freddy’s, all at play within The Electric State. Moments feel like a hodgepodge of genres and styles, but rather than flowing like the jazz of Cowboy Bebop, it’s abrasive like 2016’s Suicide Squad. It struggles to find an identity beyond setting itself up to become the next MCU. The Electric State constantly seeks to build something bigger than a standalone, assembling significant star power, doubling down on sci-fi action genre tropes, and filling the story with franchise potential. 

There is a world where The Electric State could work, even on a smaller scale, like the gorgeous creature-slaying trek Love & Monsters or traveling back before the source material to Y2K, a Hollywood just starting to realize the full potential of comics. But The Electric State seems like a movie out of time, as if it were made for a pre-MCU era of action-adventure or at least pre-Marvel’s Avengers. The premise is interesting, and the performances are by some of the best actors in fandom. There is an audience for The Electric State, but too often, the film’s hopes misalign with the climactic payoffs, leading to a fascinating world but unlikely to spark the next box-office-breaking franchise. 

Gillyfish: Review. By Josiah Teal.

Gilly (Aoife Commons) and Lana (Cat Coyle) discuss Gilly’s estranged father and the oncoming confrontation they will have when reuniting. But Gilly poses a plan: what if Lana were to pose as Gilly and confront her father? What if Lana could convey the pain and guilt that Gilly cannot? Gillyfish tackles love, identity, and parental trauma as Gilly and Lana navigate their own relationship. 

Written and directed by Sarah Sellman, Gillyfish is a minimalistic short film. The dialogue-centric story drives the relationships between Lana and Gilly, as Commons and Coyle’s performances shine throughout the narrative. On the premise alone, Sellman creates a gripping character piece within a 10-minute runtime. While the script gets a little exposition-heavy at the start, nothing detracts from the high emotions and intriguing twists at the climax. 

Gillyfish makes the most of its budget and runtime, leaving the viewer wanting more. It’s a festival-worthy short film made for a film festival audience, delivering all the emotions needed for that brand of nuanced, character-focused drama. While Gillyfish is engaging from start to finish, it falls into the films you respect or find important more than those you rewatch.

Still, the filmtakes issues of estrangement, LGBTQ+ acceptance, and identity and builds a layered story based on empathy, yet still commentating on whether someone is ready to face their trauma. Sellman and the cast showcase all their skills with Gillyfish and will build some excitement for their next festival or upcoming project.