Dumbo (2019)

The Low-Down: Dumbo is Disney’s latest (but far from its last) attempt to adapt its vast stable of animated classics into live-action films. On paper, the project seems promising – there’s a hallucinogenic quality to the 1941 film that sits right in the wheelhouse of visionary director Tim Burton, who has concocted a career for himself out of wild, creepy, romantic movies about misfits and the people who love them anyway. The film also tries to do its own thing and doesn’t slavishly imitate the original film (which featured next to no human characters and was just 64 minutes long.) What a shame, then, that the final product feels a lot like the other remakes Disney has produced – passable, on the whole, with a few inspired moments and ideas, while never really coming close to surpassing the charm or magic of the original films.

The Story: Holt Farrier (Colin Farrell) returns from the war, short of an arm and a wife, to the travelling circus that is still home to his children, Milly (Nico Parker) and Joe (Finley Hobbins). He’s given the job of elephant whisperer just as a new pachyderm is born: Dumbo, a baby with ridiculously out-sized ears. Holt’s children bond with Dumbo, and quickly discover that his ears lend him the magical ability to fly. Soon, Dumbo’s growing fame as a circus act attracts the ravenous attention of theme-park entrepreneur V.A. Vandevere (Michael Keaton).

The Good: Dumbo is precious – with his enormous ears and soulful puppy-dog eyes, he’s easily one of the most adorable, appealing CGI creations ever put on screen. His story is also the most affecting narrative thread woven into the film, as he is forcibly separated from his mother and yearns to find his way back to her. Dumbo’s heartbreak is simple, true and heartfelt, recalling the bittersweet way in which his animated counterpart sorely missed his mother. The baby elephant’s tireless bravery in the face of cruel laughter and mockery will make you wish that this film named after him didn’t spend so much time with other characters instead.

The Not-So-Good: Dumbo, as a film, makes for a rather puzzling viewing experience. Beyond some gorgeous, gothic visual sequences (specifically Nightmare Island in Vandevere’s Dreamland theme park), there’s barely a hint of Burton’s trademark whimsy to be found. Except when Dumbo is in the mix, Ehren Kruger’s screenplay is lifeless and, on occasion, logic-free – possibly a holdover from his similarly bland work on three of the Transformers franchise’s worst and most bloated films. It’s especially frustrating because the bare bones of a good story are all there – especially the fact that Millie and Joe are motherless children, just like Dumbo. But it’s largely squandered on paper-thin characters and a literally fiery climax that doesn’t make either narrative or emotional sense.

Balancing Act The cast Burton has assembled is actually very good – but none of them is given quite enough to do. As a result, Farrell’s charm is wasted on a character who never stops to listen while he constantly yells about his late wife being the one who could “talk to the children”. Keaton’s Vandevere winds up as little more than a one-note capitalist cautionary tale. At least there’s a little snap and crackle to DeVito’s harried circus owner, and Eva Green manages to suggest both darkness and light as Colette, an otherwise underwritten French trapeze artist we first meet on Vandevere’s arm.

Freak Show You’d imagine that Burton would take the purest delight in populating this travelling circus with freaks and oddities akin to the ones that have peopled his filmography over the years. But most of the characters in this travelling circus barely even register. If you’re a fan of cult British shows though, watch out for Sharon Rooney as Miss Atlantis: she was dazzling in My Mad Fat Diary, and will steal a laugh and wring a tear or two out of you here, especially when she sings Baby Mine – one of the loveliest songs in the entire Disney canon.

Recommended? Hard to say. It’s undemanding family-friendly fare, for the most part, and you’ll be rewarded with the cutest baby elephant ever put on screen. But the movie can be a bit of a slog to get through the rest of the time.

 

Captain Marvel (2019)

The Low-Down: It’s been a long, slightly ludicrous time in coming, but Marvel Studios’ first female-led superhero movie is finally blasting into cinemas. Unfortunately, Captain Marvel is trailing plenty of controversy in its wake, largely generated by the same toxic, sexist segments of ‘fandom’ who have been venting their rage online about ‘their’ franchises being taken over by women. (See: Ghostbusters, Star Wars etc.) It’s quite wonderful, then, that Captain Marvel is (literally and figuratively) the most powerful response to these haters yet – not only is it a ton of fun, this film is unapologetically, explicitly feminist in a way that’s never before been presented on screen in such a mainstream blockbuster.

The Story: We first meet Vers (Brie Larson) as a promising new cadet in Starforce, an elite military unit dedicated to protecting the Kree homeworld of Hala from the threat of Skrull invasion. For what she lacks in memories of her own life and story, she more than makes up for in wit, courage and pure power – an energy that her commander, Yon-Rogg (Jude Law), constantly counsels her to keep in check. When a Starforce mission goes wrong and she winds up on Earth, she starts putting together the puzzle pieces of her past as former Air Force fighter pilot Carol Danvers – and begins to reclaim what she has lost.

The Good: All told, Captain Marvel is an absolute blast to watch. Like its titular heroine, the film is fun, fearless and thoroughly feminist: celebrating Carol herself, as well as the women in her orbit who (she will soon discover) helped make her who she really is. The film’s genre-hopping – stacking psychological thriller on top of buddy comedy and spicing it all up with some space opera – doesn’t always work when taken as a whole. But each element of the film is delightful, especially when Carol meets and impresses Nick Fury (a CGI-de-aged Samuel L. Jackson, dialling the goofy charm up to 11) and they embark on a road trip that takes them all the way to the stars. It’s worth pointing out, too, that the film quite ingeniously deepens the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU)’s mythology, both backwards and forwards in time, while giving us the miracle that is Goose, a cat Flerken who will steal your heart and also strike fear into your soul – the way all the best cats Flerkens do.

The Not-So-Good: The first act of Captain Marvel is its weakest – it’s almost as if the film, like its title character, hasn’t quite figured out what it is or wants to be. That can make for a mildly puzzling first viewing experience, compounded by a script that makes no allowances for those who can’t keep up with the murkier politics of Kree-Skrull warfare. Due to the deliberately fractured narrative structure (mirroring Carol’s identity crisis), even Marvel aficionados, who can readily tell their Krees from their Skrulls and Marvell from Marvel, might find it challenging to follow the plot at first.

O Captain, Our Captain! Kudos are due to Larson for making all the disparate elements of the film and her character work. For one thing, she makes kicking inter-galactic butt look easy and effortless. But it’s in finding Carol’s heart and soul that Larson truly shines – a particularly impressive feat since she’s essentially playing a character who barely knows who she really is. Somehow, somewhere, in the midst of Carol’s snarky comebacks and fierce smackdowns, Larson promises us a real human being – one we’re excited to get to know better as the MCU continues to grow.

Nevertheless, She Persisted: One of Captain Marvel’s purest delights is its unabashedly feminist heart. In the film’s most emotionally affecting sequence, we see Carol getting up – over and over again, through the ages, over decades, all her life – when she’s told (particularly by the men around her) to stay down, to smile, to please others, to live a life that is nothing like the one she deserves to make for herself. It’s an electrifying moment that will resonate with women and girls everywhere, whose lived experiences are of a world that has them constantly questioning their worth and value. Carol’s true triumph isn’t against hordes of shape-shifting aliens or an imminent inter-galactic attack – it’s against the insidious horrors of toxic masculinity and gaslighting. What makes it all work doubly well is that the film also proudly celebrates the women in Carol’s orbit, from Annette Bening’s brilliant maverick scientist, Dr. Wendy Lawson; to Lashana Lynch’s fiercely competent fighter pilot/single mom, Maria Rambeau.

Fan Fare: Marvel fans, of both the film and comic-book variety, will find themselves very well-served by Captain Marvel. MCU devotees will be rewarded with origin stories for fan-favourite characters – not just Nick Fury, but also Phil Coulson (Clark Gregg), both of whom are decades away from their destinies with S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers. The script is canny enough to use and subvert fan expectations gleaned from decades of comic lore – testing our sympathies most notably in the form of charismatic Skrull leader Talos (Ben Mendelsohn). And be warned: this might well be the first movie ever that has you tearing up even before the opening credits, with Marvel having re-designed its production logo in honour of the late, great Stan Lee and the words he wrote that changed the world.

Recommended? Yes! Captain Marvel pulls off the rather incredible feat of being properly entertaining and enlightening. A film that will reward multiple viewings, it’s an essential addition to the canon of superhero movies.

 

Mary Poppins Returns (2018)

The Low-Down: Disney has been trying to make a sequel to 1964’s Mary Poppins – a classic in every imaginable sense – for decades. But author P.L. Travers, who publicly disapproved of the studio’s adaptation of her books, stood in the way of most early attempts. Ultimately, it’s taken a good 54 years for everyone’s favourite magical nanny to finally return to the silver screen. That’s more than enough time for several generations of children to fall in love with the original film, grow up, and worry that the sequel will ruin their childhoods.

The Story: Mary Poppins (Emily Blunt) returns to Cherry Tree Lane just when two generations of Banks children need her most. All grown-up, Michael (Ben Whishaw) – with the help of activist sister Jane (Emily Mortimer) – is a widower trying to keep it all together after the death of his beloved wife. As he ransacks the family house to ward off the threat of foreclosure by Fidelity Fiduciary Bank, Mary Poppins takes charge of his three children – John (Nathanael Saleh), Annabel (Pixie Davies) and Georgie (Joel Dawson).

The Good: There’s plenty of spark and dazzle in Mary Poppins Returns, but its truest magic comes in the loss and heartbreak layered into its narrative. This time, Mary Poppins isn’t here just to remind everyone to embrace their inner children (as was the case 54 years ago). She’s back to patch up a handful of broken hearts that are sorely missing a mother or a wife. This deep, rich and necessarily darker aspect of the film works wonderfully – its wisdom, depth and maturity will make you weep your heart and your childhood out of your eyes, in a good way.

The Not-So-Good: Less successful is the film’s creaky adherence to the formula established by its predecessor. Meryl Streep – so often the best thing about any film she’s in – is both over-the-top and slightly pointless as Topsy, Mary Poppins’ indiscriminately Eastern-European cousin, and the clear equivalent to the first film’s laughing/floating Uncle Albert. As Jack the lamplighter, Lin-Manuel Miranda leads his fellow leeries in Trip A Little Light Fantastic – a flame-lit number that isn’t half as magical as Step In Time, the glorious chimney-sweep dance in the original movie.

Practically Perfect In Every Way: Blunt may not have Julie Andrews’ soaring soprano (now tragically lost to us all), but she makes the iconic character thoroughly her own. She’s wonderfully adept at playing the heart of gold, tinged with an unspeakable grief, that lies beneath Mary Poppins’ sarcasm and stiff upper lip. It’s a shame, though, that her character almost fades into the background in the film’s final act. There’s a climactic moment featuring Big Ben and a lot of ladders that will make you wonder why Mary Poppins doesn’t get involved sooner rather than later.

Jack Of All Trades: At some point in the sequel, we’re informed that Dick Van Dyke’s Bert – everyone’s favourite chimney sweep with the godawful Cockney accent – is off having untold adventures. His replacement is Jack, who literally brings light to the streets of London, and helps to take it away. Jack is mostly charming, but doesn’t have quite the snap and fizzle of his predecessor. That’s likely because Miranda – an unqualified creative genius (Hamilton ftw!) – isn’t quite as strong an actor as he is a wordsmith. While he improves (very marginally) on the Cockney accent, he lacks the on-screen presence and charisma that Van Dyke has in spades.

High Score: Marc Shaiman of Hairspray fame has created a score that’s eminently lovely and accomplished. It’s been criticised as forgettable, especially in contrast with the numerous breakout hits from the first film. But the Sherman brothers’ score has had 54 years to soak into the cultural consciousness. On their own merits, Shaiman’s songs are wonderfully tuneful, alternating jaunty numbers like Can You Imagine That? with sob-inducing ballads like A Conversation. If nothing else, Shaiman gives us The Place Where Lost Things Go – a modern classic built out of love and loss that will settle in your heart, where all the lovely, sad, joyful things go.

Watch Out For: Two absolutely fantastic cameos that will make your soul sing. Van Dyke’s return to the franchise – at the venerable age of 93 – is pretty much the most magical moment in a film that’s deliberately packed full of very magical moments. And we defy your Disney-loving heart not to swell with joy when Dame Angela Lansbury makes her appearance!

Recommended? Yes. Mary Poppins Returns often goes too far in the wrong direction when it tries to be a homage to the first film. But, when it does its own thing, the final result is both wonderful and wondrous.

 

Bumblebee (2018)

The Low-Down: You’d be forgiven for thinking that Bumblebee is yet another shameless cash-grab by the powers-that-be behind the Transformers franchise. There isn’t much incentive to improve, after all: money keeps pouring in at the box office (especially in China), even as the films – and scripts – have gotten progressively worse and more nonsensical.

And yet, Bumblebee will have you buzzing with delight. In this blockbuster prequel (reboot?) centred on everyone’s favourite sidekick Transformer, everything stale feels fresh again. Most importantly, this film about giant mutating machines has its heart and soul in the right place.

The Good: The Transformers franchise takes a page from the hugely successful Marvel playbook, entrusting Bumblebee to a visionary director who’s as comfortable with telling a story as creating jaw-dropping visuals. (Apologies to Michael Bay, but explosions do not a movie make.) Travis Knight – who gave us the sublime Kubo And The Two Strings – makes his live-action debut with plenty of heart and flair. He lavishes time and care on the film’s emotional beats, grounding it effectively in the tender friendship between Bumblebee and Charlie (Hailee Steinfeld), the mechanically-minded teenager who saves him from a salvage yard. Even with this almost arthouse focus on character development, Knight still delivers no shortage of expertly-choreographed explosions and action sequences.

The Not-So-Good: Bumblebee’s action-packed climactic showdown isn’t half as consequential as it wants to be – indeed, it’s the least interesting thing about the film by far. And it’s not helped by the fact that Charlie and her friends and family seem to be the only humans on the planet worth saving. Jack Burns – played with intermittent charm by John Cena – just barely works as a character, while everyone around him is either forgettably bland or memorably idiotic.

The Nostalgic: Fans of the original Transformers cartoon from the 1980s will lap up all the references and re-designs in Bumblebee. When first stranded on Earth, for instance, our titular hero finds refuge in a familiar form: a canary-yellow 1967 Volkswagen Beetle.

Knockout Performance: Steinfeld hasn’t really managed to find a movie role deserving of the talents she displayed as a young child actor in True Grit (2010) – a performance that nabbed her an Oscar nomination. Who’d have thought that role would come in a Transformers movie? Steinfeld is quite wonderful as Charlie, allowing us to peek beneath her character’s tough exterior to see the oceans of hurt and heartbreak she’s hiding – from her family and herself. She’s remarkably good at playing the hero and the human in Charlie, often at the same time.

Script Tease: There are a ton of eye-popping special effects in Bumblebee, including a fantastic moment in a tunnel when he shrinks and stretches to protect his human cargo. But the real special effect in Bumblebee is the script by Christina Hodson. By injecting heart and humour into her words and characters, Hodson has helped create the first Transformers film that might actually make you laugh and cry. Unlike later installments in the series, you’ll actually root for her characters to live on in the sequels. And, as if all that weren’t reason enough to celebrate Hodson’s script, Bumblebee manages to be fun, funny and also feminist: establishing Charlie as a person and hero first, before giving her full control over when and whether she’ll be anyone’s love interest.

Recommended? Surprisingly, unexpectedly, unreservedly – yes. Bumblebee is the best Transformers film yet, so full of warmth and character that it will leave you wanting more.

Spider-Man: Into The Spider Verse (2018)

The Low-Down: Does the world really need another Spider-Man movie? In just over 15 years, we’ve already had three different Peter Parkers, each one with the same basic origin story. It’s a reliable formula that’s been run into the ground… hasn’t it? And yet, Spider-Man: Into The Spider Verse will have you clamouring for more. This fresh, funny, fantastic film proves that there’s entire universes of mileage left in all things Spider-Man – introducing us to brand-new hero Miles Morales, while also dissecting (and reinforcing) our love for good ol’ Peter Parker.

The Story: Miles Morales (voiced by Shameik Moore) is a high-school kid just trying to figure out his purpose in life – which sharpens somewhat terrifyingly into focus when he’s bitten by a radioactive spider and finds himself literally climbing the walls. Suddenly, he’s forced to assume the mantle of Spider-Man, battling to save the world from the heartbroken insanity of Wilson Fisk (Liev Schreiber). It’s a tall order for a half African-American, half Puerto-Rican kid from Brooklyn but, fortunately, Miles soon discovers that he isn’t alone in the universe…

The Good: Where to even begin? Into The Spider Verse is a delight in practically every way. First and foremost, it’s remarkably refreshing to see a character like Miles – a young man of mixed-race descent – get his own superhero origin story. It helps enormously that the screenplay, credited to Phil Lord and Rodney Rothman, is equal parts sweet, sharp and snarky. Some superhero movies (*cough*DC*cough*) can take themselves too seriously, but Into The Spider Verse skewers Spider-Man’s cinematic history with a cheeky charm that’s impossible to resist. Miles also leads a cast of enormously appealing characters, including clever twists on fan favourites like Peter Parker (Jake Johnson), Aunt May (Lily Tomlin), Gwen Stacy (Hailee Steinfeld) and Doctor Octopus (REDACTED).

The Not-So-Good: There’s almost too much going on, all the time. Into The Spider Verse is stuffed to the brim with multiple characters, multiple universes and multiple plot-lines – so much so that the emotional weight of Miles’ fraught relationships with his dad (Brian Tyree Henry) and uncle (Mahershala Ali), which should tear audiences apart, comes close to getting lost amongst the shift and shuffle of the plot. It’s hardly a deal-breaker, though: the narrative beats are all there, ready to be savoured and rediscovered on a rewatch.

The Gloriously Geeky: Comic-book fans, rejoice – this one’s for you. There’s a soul-deep love for Spider-Man lore threaded through every gorgeous frame of this movie. Naturally, it’s right there in the plot, as alternate universes collide and truly cult characters tumble into Miles’ life. But it’s the medium of animation that makes the real difference here. It’s why Into The Spider Verse can embrace its comic-book roots in a way that live-action movies can’t. In some of the film’s most visually arresting sequences, Miles leaps and soars in and out of frame, trailing sound effects and narration in his wake. This living, breathing comic-book effect is the crowning achievement of Sony’s animation arm – not only is it fluid and stunning, it’s ridiculously inventive, mixing and matching animation styles to further plot and develop character.

Watch Out For: Easter eggs galore! Spider-Man and Marvel aficonados should keep their eyes peeled for references peppered throughout the film. The late Stan Lee’s cameo will break and warm your heart in equal measure. Meanwhile, Brian Michael Bendis and Sara Pichelli, who co-created Miles Morales, are name-checked, as are concepts and terms well-known to fans of the comics (Earth-616 and all). Stay through the credits for a series of of wonderful, silly rewards, including a song off Spider-Man’s novelty Christmas album and some intriguing scenes that hint at where this new animated franchise might go. (A sequel and spin-offs have already been greenlit! 🙌) ALSO, this film features possibly the best use of Nicolas Cage in a movie since National Treasure!*

Recommended? YES. Into The Spider Verse isn’t just the best Spider-Man movie that nobody asked for – it’s one of the best Spider-Man movies ever made, period. It’s also a top contender for best animated film of the year.

*Okay, fine, having Cage voice Superman in this year’s Teen Titans Go! To The Movies was genius too – a nod to his life-long goal to play Superman. Maybe Cage should stick to voiceover work… 🤔

 

Mortal Engines (2018)

The Low-Down: For a period of time a decade or so ago, steampunk was all the rage in young-adult fantasy novels. ‘Steampunk’ novels blended past and future, taking inspiration for futuristic technology from the steam-powered machinery of the 19th century. Philip Reeve’s Mortal Engines series is a prime example – his characters battle to survive in a broken future, in which people now live in moving, mechanical, almost monstrous cities. The original source novel (published in 2001) was adapted for the screen (and produced) by the same creative team behind The Lord Of The Rings: Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens and Peter Jackson.

The Good: The Mortal Engines features some of the best world construction (though it might be more accurate to say deconstruction) in a fantasy movie in a generation.The visual effects and production design – including a thoroughly reconstituted London and a city built on clouds – are fantastic, so remarkably rendered that it’s impossible to tell where reality ends and imagination begins. Before they wear out their welcome, the characters are reasonably diverse and appealing: Icelandic actress Hera Hilmar adroitly finds the toughness and tenderness in driven protagonist Hester Shaw, and Hugo Weaving is so good as fairly one-note villain Thaddeus Valentine that you’ll wish he had more layers to work with.

The Cleverly Subversive: There’s a clever thread of political commentary running throughout the film. As the predatory city of London storms smaller cities to steal their resources and energy, the obvious reference is to colonialism: our real-world history repeating itself in the form of fiction. There are even barely subtle allusions to some of the most bewildering policy decisions of our times: Brexit and Donald Trump’s border separation initiative.

The Not-So-Good: The movie doesn’t end half as well at it begins – it tries desperately to be exciting but winds up being exhausting. The final 45 minutes are packed with so many moving parts that most of the emotional beats get lost in the melee, including an actual ‘Luke Skywalker vs. Darth Vader’ moment that misses both the heart and the mark. It’s nice that Jackson is mentoring Christian Rivers in the latter’s directorial debut, but you might find yourself wondering what the film would be like if Jackson had directed it himself. Separately, Jihae cuts a cool figure as rebel leader Anna Fang, but she can’t seem to express emotion through all of her character’s swagger and glower.

Scene Stealer Extraordinaire: Shrike – played in motion-capture by Stephen Lang – is a marvel. More machine than man, he steals pretty much every scene he stalks grimly through. Ironically (but also fittingly), this mechanical man’s hunt for Hester lends the film most of its dramatic and emotional weight.

Watch Out For: Cameos by Jackson and Reeve, if you’re not too busy trying to keep track of everything that’s going on.

Recommended? If you want to see some of the best visual effects put on screen since Lord Of The Rings, yes. But the muddled plot never quite lives up to its promise. So be warned – you might be disappointed if you’re in it for the story.

Widows (2018)

The Low-Down: Hailed as a classy crime thriller with a feminist twist, Widows sees Veronica Rawlings (Viola Davis) gathering her fellow widows to pull off a heist after their husbands die in a mission gone badly wrong. The film boasts a pretty impressive pedigree: it’s directed by Steve McQueen (12 Years A Slave, Hunger) and co-written by McQueen and Gillian Flynn (who wrote Gone Girl – both the book and the film).

The Good: Widows has both style and substance, which don’t always co-exist in crime thrillers. Apart from scenes and moments shot with delicate flair by McQueen, the film powerfully weaves heartbreaking real-world violence into the backstory of one of its lead characters. When Widows is good, it’s very good – its myriad characters and plot lines hint at the very thin line that separates crime from politics, and not many movies can pull off equating victory with comeuppance.

The Not-So-Good: For all that is good about the film, Widows is weighed down by an identity crisis. Its tone is all over the place, meandering from heist thriller to soap opera, by way of a political drama. This slows the film’s pace down considerably, when it should zip and zing. Lavishing so much time on the film’s politicians and antagonists also means that some of the ostensible leads get short shrift. Michelle Rodriguez’s Widow, in particular, is so slight that even a last-minute addition to the heist crew (played by Cynthia Erivo) fares better in terms of character development. And it’s hard to shake the feeling that McQueen shot a bunch of great scenes that he couldn’t bear to cut (pretty much any moment featuring Daniel Kaluuya’s thug), even though they don’t actually help move the story along very much.

Knockout Performances: In an insanely good cast, Davis, Kaluuya and Elizabeth Debicki are the standouts. Davis wrings strength and vulnerability out of an underwritten role. Kaluuya flips his everyman charm on a dime and is truly terrifying as a henchman from hell. Debicki is effortlessly charming as the best Widow of all: the one who discovers she’s much more than the trophy wife she’d always believed herself to be.

Watch Out For: The cannily cast husbands of the titular widows – some have so little screen time that they might well qualify as Easter eggs. Shoutout to Liam Neeson, who gamely sends up his geriaction hero status while reminding viewers that he’s actually a pretty good actor – even with contrived material.

Recommended? Yes, but not without some qualifications. McQueen’s films can be harrowing and alienating – this one is neither, but it’s also strange to watch. There’s a lot about it that’s good, and quite a bit of it that doesn’t work. But it’s an interesting mess that’s worth a look.

 

Ralph Breaks The Internet (2018)

The Low-Down: Ralph Breaks The Internet is the sequel to 2012’s Wreck-It Ralph, one of Disney’s most inventive and beloved films. The first movie mined comic gold from nostalgia, bringing to life a host of video-game favourites from the ’80s and ’90s. This new film addresses the technology we have today: Ralph (voiced by John C. Reilly) and Vanellope Von Schweetz (Sarah Silverman) head into the crazy wilderness of the Internet in a bid to save her game from being unplugged for good.

The Good: The film smartly keeps its emotional focus on the wonderful friendship between Ralph and Vanellope, and is all the better for it. There’s a great deal of wonderful comedy in Ralph’s desperate efforts to save Vanellope (who, as it turns out, might not want to be saved anymore) – including going viral. Ralph Breaks The Internet is unexpectedly mature in reminding audiences about the value of unconditional love between friends – that your friends can make you better, smarter, and more loving than you ever thought possible. You might find yourself sobbing at the grief and the growth that both Ralph and Vanellope experience as their friendship deepens.

The Not-So-Good: Much of the film’s commentary on the social-media age in which we love works quite well, from over-eager search engine Knowsmore (Alan Tudyk) to sassy algorithm queen Yesss (Taraji P. Henson). But why are some well-known elements of the Internet given new names (Buzzfeed and YouTube merged into BuzzTube, for instance), while others aren’t? It ends up feeling like product placement – for eBay, in particular. Also, the sub-plots for new character Shank (Gal Gadot), as well as old favourites Fix-It Felix (Jack McBrayer) and Calhoun (Jane Lynch), work, but also feel somewhat inconsequential.

Knockout Moment: The Disney Princesses win the Internet! This is definitely product placement but it works beautifully because it’s done with so much tongue-in-cheek affection for the entire Disney Princess franchise. The first Wreck-It Ralph film introduced Vanellope as the Mouse House’s most intriguing princess yet – full of spunk, fire and a refusal to abide by the usual princessy tropes – but didn’t really do much with it. Here, Disney deconstructs itself: gifting Vanellope with her own ‘I want’ princess song, while giving its other princesses (from Elsa and Anna to Mulan, Belle, Snow White and more) the chance to comment (and act) on the not-always-very-feminist stories of which they were a part.

Watch Out For: The easter eggs in the credits – the one at the very end is pure genius.

Recommended? Absolutely. It’s not as utterly wonderful as the first film – the script is a little clunkier and the nostalgia factor replaced with a world-wide-web-weary cynicism. But the big, beating heart embedded in this story is a true delight. The Princesses alone will be worth the price of your ticket.

First Man (2018)

There’s no denying that Damien Chazelle is one of the most interesting directors working today. His two most recent credits, which he wrote and directed, were breakout hits. You could practically sense Chazelle himself living and breathing in every frame of Whiplash and La La Land – two films that were, on the surface, quite different, but which married complex character work with intense musicality to quite remarkable effect. With First Man, he turns his hand to the prestige biopic: a rich historical drama inspired by the life and achievements of legendary astronaut Neil Armstrong. The final result is a strange beast: it mostly works well when shooting (quite literally) for the moon, but falls short at getting to the heart of its subject.

We first meet Armstrong (Ryan Gosling) in 1962. Already a renowned test pilot, he and his wife, Janet (Claire Foy) have created a picture-perfect nuclear family, with one son, Eric, and one daughter, Karen. But tragedy strikes: he’s forced to watch, helpless, as his beloved little girl wastes away from an inoperable brain tumour. Although her premature death shakes Armstrong to the core, you would never know it: he returns to work almost immediately, and signs up for America’s space programme. Instead of dealing with the oceans of grief within him, he channels his intense stoicism and iron discipline into his new mission: taking leave of the surface of the Earth.

On this count, the film is a marvel – both in technical terms, and as a resurrection of a relatively distant past. The 1969 moon landing has passed into legend and lore: it’s a fact we learn from history books, its accompanying dangers and follies fading with the passage of time. First Man brings all of that context back to vivid, shuddering, blood-and-guts life, reminding us that we somehow catapulted a man to the moon without any of the computing technology that most of us carry around in our pockets nowadays.

This point is driven home as Armstrong and his compatriots – including Ed White (Jason Clarke) and Buzz Aldrin (Corey Stoll) – take turns being shot into space. Through close-ups tighter than Tom Hooper’s and deliberately shaky camera-work, Chazelle invites us to join these men inside their spacecrafts: glorified tin buckets, held together by a dream and a prayer, that might as easily serve as their coffins as their shuttle to the stars. The human cost of the entire space-faring effort weighs heavily on the film and its title character, forcing Armstrong to grapple with loss every time a mission fails – occasionally, before it even begins.

All the emotional beats that land (and there are quite a few that don’t) come courtesy of Chazelle’s first-rate cast. Gosling has made a career out of playing grimly determined men, whose hearts are beating wildly beneath veneers of impenetrable impassivity. He’s very good as Armstrong, though he’s hamstrung by the very role he’s playing. Foy makes the most of a rather underwritten part, unearthing genuine rage and heartbreak as Janet’s life revolves around the constant possibility of her husband’s death.

Less successful are First Man’s attempts to give us a sense of who Neil Armstrong was. It admirably avoids transforming him into a cliché or a lie: this is no charmingly airbrushed portrait of a genial aw-shucks American hero.

What the film does do, unfortunately, is swing almost too far towards the opposite extreme. At every turn, Armstrong refuses human connection: rebuffing his wife, his friends, his living children, while stewing in his own angst. Josh Singer, who consulted with Armstrong’s first wife and sons in writing the screenplay, stands by the version of the man we meet in the film: so pathologically reticent that he would rather risk his life travelling to the moon than spend one evening talking honestly with his family.

But therein lies the problem. Sure, Armstrong could have been hard and cold and emotionally inaccessible (at least at the time) to those closest to him. It still takes a conscious narrative decision, however, to make one particular interpretation of the man’s inner turmoil the emotional pivot of the entire film. When this Armstrong stares at the moon (which he does a lot), the film practically yells at us that he longs to escape there. Making history is incidental; it’s all about processing his grief.

It’s also why the film’s climax – a scene that should be filled with awe and wonder at the superhuman feat achieved by distinctly unsuper humans – undercuts itself. We barely get to experience the joy that should accompany this remarkable achievement, because Armstrong’s face remains obscured by a reflective visor as he takes his first steps on the moon. We only get to see his face at a moment so nakedly sentimental that it will have you rushing online afterwards to find out how much of it is fact and how much fiction. (Spoiler alert: it’s fiction, which Singer will argue is grounded in fact. But it’s still fiction.)

In effect, First Man ends up trapping itself by its own ambition. It wants desperately to avoid painting Armstrong as a noble, flaw-free hero – but focuses so much on his personal misery that his accomplishments are devalued. The historic moon landing becomes part of the weight of one man’s sorrow, bleeding it of the enormous scientific and cultural significance that Armstrong himself would have fiercely defended. If Armstrong wasn’t a real person, it might have worked. But because he was, First Man’s awkward blend of documentary and melodrama – as relentless as it is reductive – feels tone-deaf. It aims for the stars… but winds up crashing to the ground.

Basically: Shoots for the moon, and misses the heart.

Incredibles 2 (2018)

A sequel to The Incredibles has a lot to live up to. Pixar’s fresh, funny look at an ordinary family with extraordinary powers became an instant classic when it was released in 2004 – for very good reason. Writer-director Brad Bird struck a sublime balance between domestic drama and tongue-in-cheek satire – celebrating and sending up superheroes in equal measure. So, 14 years on, is Incredibles 2 worth the wait? Fortunately… yes. It doesn’t quite redefine or revitalise the genre, the way its predecessor did, but it’s still brilliantly funny, thoughtful and a pure joy to watch.

The film picks up exactly where The Incredibles left off – revealing that, as in often the case in real life, the happy ending was neither entirely ‘happy’ nor an ‘ending’. When we meet the superpowered Parrs again, they’re trying to figure out how to fight crime – not just as a team, but as a family. It’s more complicated and frustrating than any of them expects, especially when a botched mission yields catastrophic results… and a ban on superheroes.

This turn of events allows Bird to capitalise on the one element of Incredibles 2 that remains unique even in these superhero-obsessed times: the fact that the Parrs are a proper family, bound together by blood, love, duty and responsibility. That dynamic – anchored by the profoundly relatable tensions between husband and wife, parent and child, brother and sister – was what made the first film such a delight to begin with.

Incredibles 2 builds on this with even greater warmth, sensitivity and insight, touching on themes as expansive as feminism, empowerment and screen addiction along the way. When she’s called upon to front a pro-superhero publicity campaign, we watch Helen/Elastigirl (Holly Hunter) struggle with the demands of being a working mom. Left to take care of the children, Bob/Mr. Incredible (voiced by Craig T. Nelson) is forced to come to terms with his own roles and responsibilities as a father. And the kids are experiencing growing pains of their own: Violet (Sarah Vowell) freaks out over a forgotten first date; Dash (Huck Milner) does battle with his homework; and baby Jack-Jack tests out his burgeoning powers on an unfortunate nemesis.

Speaking of Jack-Jack – the youngest member of the Parr family steals the entire film – and will run away with your heart too. It’s no spoiler to say that he starts randomly unleashing one superpower after another: his abilities manifested in Pixar’s 2005 short film, Jack-Jack Attack, and are on full display in every trailer for Incredibles 2. But it’s impossible to adequately express just how delightful Jack-Jack is in this film – even as he shoots laser beams from his eyes, spontaneously combusts (“It means fire, Robert!”) and morphs into a rampaging mini-demon. His kinetic showdown with a hapless raccoon is one of the film’s best scenes: at once howlingly funny and gorgeously animated.

Jack-Jack is the easy standout, but similar care has been invested into exploring the potential and implications of his family’s powers. In particular, there’s a thrill of imaginative fluidity that runs throughout every one of Elastigirl’s scenes, given freer rein by 14 years of technological improvements. Her ability to stretch herself thin – a canny metaphor for the myriad demands of motherhood – allows her to slip through cracks, soar through the air and stop a runaway train in visually arresting ways.

In fact, it all looks so spectacular that you’ll find yourself gaining a renewed appreciation for the pure magic of animated movies. We’re living at a time when CGI and special effects can pull off just about anything on screen. And yet, Incredibles 2 proves with its every frame and action sequence that there are some ideas that just won’t work as well in live action. (That’s a lesson Disney might want to take to heart, by the way.) Edna Mode – genius fashion designer and undying fan favourite – proves it whenever she slices through a scene, radiating a cutting charisma as huge as she is tiny.

It’s fair to say, however, that not everything about Incredibles 2 feels quite as effortless as it did for its predecessor. This time around, Bird’s screenplay isn’t as light and nimble in its examination of superheroes and the people who help and hinder them. The characters of Winston (Bob Odenkirk) and Evelyn Deaver (Catherine Keener) are more grounded, for example, but also less interesting than the likes of supervillain Syndrome and super-sidekick Frozone (Samuel L. Jackson). The biting meta commentary of the first film is sorely missed. Some of the characters aren’t given much space to grow, either – Dash moves the fastest of them all, but feels like he doesn’t really go anywhere.

14 years on, you’d be perfectly justified to ask if there’s any point to Incredibles 2. After all, we now live in a cinematic era in which the superhero genre has established itself firmly in Hollywood. We’re intensely familiar with tales of ordinary people living and grappling with extraordinary powers. In the decade and a half(ish) that has passed since, Pixar has also released a bunch of sequels to films that didn’t require or deserve them (*cough*Cars*cough*). It’s enough to make you doubt if the Parrs have anything left to say – and if it would be said well. Thankfully, the wit and wonder of Incredibles 2 proves that good things do indeed come to those who wait – and that we’d be happy to wait for even more.

Basically: Brilliant in both execution and enjoyment, Incredibles 2 is worth the wait.