​There’s nothing better than a film that is a pleasant surprise. I spend so much of my time seeing films that I either know are going to be bad and hate or know are going to be good and like that the moments where a film surprises me are rare. And most of those surprises are still negative (you broke my heart, Man of Steel). This week, people kept asking me what movie I was screening and I honestly couldn’t remember the name of it. I had seen the trailer, I’m sure, and presumed it was for a mediocre sci-fi film. I was dreading the prospect of writing a review for another C-grade action film where I prattle on about how the movie was insubstantial popcorn fodder.
 
When I walked out of Kin, I was reminded why I do this. Not to tell people about the obvious, like that the new Transformers blows or that the new Denis Villeneuve movie is great. It’s to tell  people about the hidden gems, the movies that I end up liking despite the odds being stacked against them.
 
Kin is a feature length adaptation of a short film called Bag Men, following a teenage boy named Eli (Myles Truitt), who discovers a strange and futuristic weapon in an abandoned building. When Eli’s brother Jimmy (Jack Reynor) returns from prison and gets into some hot water, which accidentally gets their father Hal (Dennis Quaid) killed, the two go on a roadtrip/run-for-their-lives trip. Pursued by criminal gang leader Taylor (James Franco) and two mysterious figures from an alternate dimension (or something of the like), the brothers bond with one another and a stripper named Milly (Zoë Kravitz).
 
I would first like to address a potentially unnerving element of the film’s theme. The movie puts a lot of stock into the power of the gun, which in turn appears to make the young Eli feel powerful. This “power of the gun” angle, combined with the brother’s proclivity to get the two of them into criminal activity, could be seen as sending a troubling message to youth about the strength of guns and crime. But I would also argue that the same could be said for Eleven, one of the main characters of Stranger Things. Eleven kills countless bad-guys, her “power” being derived from weaponization. But I would argue that Eli only initially perceives that his power and confidence comes from physical strength, and that the end of the film is specifically ambiguous about the “goodness” of the power of the gun and Eli’s criminal brother.
 
That aside, the compelling nature of the characters outweighs the potentially tonally confused message of the film. Eli and Jimmy are likable, and their chemistry feels genuine. They feel like brothers, who love each other and are willing to put themselves on the line for each other. Jimmy is dumb and impulsive, but never in a way that felt frustrating. Truitt and Reynor play their parts well, and it is their relationship that carries the majority of the film. Franco’s character, while over-the-top, is a fairly menacing villain, hitting that crazy, drugged up crime boss vibe. I did chuckle, however, at Quaid’s performance, as he seemed to be doing his best Harrison Ford impression, straight down to the finger-wagging thing that Ford loves to do.
 
The movie is less compelling when it leans more towards science-fiction than drama. While the cinematography is pretty great, the futuristic/alien tech doesn’t look like anything we haven’t seen before, and the twist at the end of the movie had me more confused than shocked. The sound design was good, if not a little over-reliant on the dubstep-esque techno sounds that permeate films like this. But I couldn’t help but feel like a straight-up drama about these characters might have made for a better film. The set-up at the end for a potentially more sci-fi focused sequel has me concerned that the filmmakers don’t know what the best part of their movie is: the characters.
 
Is Kin perfect? No, not by a long shot. Is it one of the year’s best films? No, not even close. But it is an entertaining movie, with likeable characters, good performances, and interesting cinematography. I enjoyed myself watching Kin, which is a lot more than can be said about almost every movie I’ve reviewed this summer.
 
Grade: B-

​I grew up with Star Wars. I might not have been alive when the original trilogy was first released, nor did I see any of the prequel films in theatres when I was young. But Star Wars was an integral part of my childhood. I watched the original trilogy on VHS with my dad when I was barely old enough to walk. I dressed as R2-D2 for Halloween. I played Star Wars video games, watched the classic Genndy Tartakovsky Clone Wars shorts and even read some of the comics and novels. And, at this point in my life, I can rattle of Star Wars facts to a degree of obscurity that exists somewhere between ridiculous and obsessive. When you know the names of characters as minor as Joh Yowza and Sy Snootles, that’s probably a fair sign that you are at least a fan of Star Wars.
 
I don’t say all this to flex my fandom or make an attempt to say that my investment in Star Wars is greater than someone who doesn’t know what Slave One is. I think it is too easy to conflate hours watched and facts learned with a real understanding of what is best for a series and/or what made the series work in the first place.
 
But I’m not here to get into what made the original trilogy good. I’m also not going to try and dissect why Star Wars has so firmly ingrained itself into popular culture or permeated so deeply into the minds of many fans around the world. What I do want to talk about is how Star Wars is going to remain both culturally relevant and cinematically interesting, and how I think the interests of an extremely vocal group of Star Wars “superfans” could be hindering the series’ ability to fully adapt and survive in the modern film age.
 
First, a quick qualifier. Blockbusters are different now than they were in the mid-to-late 1970s. If a 70s movie that had never been released came out in theatres today, most modern audiences would be confused. And I don’t mean they’d just be perplexed as to why the actors were all dead or the movies weren’t shot in high-definition. Movies worked differently back then. They were slower, more plot heavy and certainly less action prone than the blockbusters of today. And we could argue back and forth about whether or not movies from that era are better or worse than movies now, but you have to agree that they are different.
 
Thus, what was likely to have made Star Wars work so well when it was first released may not have had nearly the same impact on a modern film audience. Star Wars’ space opera grandiosity and world building heavy universe were far more unique in the late 70s than they would be in a film today. And that’s not to say that the original Star Wars trilogy doesn’t do a significantly better job at that stuff than a lot of blockbusters after it. But it’s the relative ease of creating a universe with seemingly massive scale which nullifies that element of Star Wars’ success in a modern context.
 
So, if blockbusters from the late 70s are slower, plot-heavy and less action oriented, modern blockbusters are quicker, character driven and more action-packed. And, again, you might think this is bad. That’s fine. But that’s how it is. And for Star Wars to continue to remain culturally relevant, it has to adapt to the more modern style of filmmaking we are currently seeing out of Hollywood blockbusters. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t have wanted Star Wars to be like the 40 years of James Bond movies (before Daniel Craig and Martin Campbell actually changed the series).
 
The way I see it, there are two schools of thought, in the negative, if you accept the differences Star Wars is making.
 
One: If Star Wars has to change to stay relevant, it should just end.
 
This is the kind of “hindsight is 20/20” –esque thing that people love to say when a movie gets a less-than-satisfactory sequel. Why would they make a sequel to this? It was perfect the way it is. All new movies should be 100% original and never build upon previous source material.
 
And if you think that way about Star Wars: fine, I guess. Stay in a bubble and watch the original trilogy on repeat. But Star Wars is multi-billion dollar franchise. To assume that it would ever be stagnant is extremely foolish. So embrace the inevitable. There is going to be more Star Wars. So we should demand that they improve, not lazily rehash the same things that you think made the originals great.
 
Two: Star Wars can change, but there are 100,000 rules and guidelines that the sequel films will need to follow in order to “stay true” to the originals. And that list will make it impossible for any writer or director top have any kind of original vision with Star Wars.
 
This is seemingly the predominant ideology of the highly vocal Star Wars fan community. Star Wars fans like to claim that they have absolutely no problem with the concept of a new Star Wars film. But the degree of restrictions that are placed upon these new films by fans, in terms of strict adherences to what every individual fan seems to see as “true Star Wars” is not only complete arbitrary bullshit, but deathly restrictive to the franchises ability to grow.
 
And I’m not talking about the people who hate that Finn is a black Stormtrooper or harass actress Kelly Marie Tran because they think Rose is “the worst Star Wars character in history how dare SJWs force her into my Star Wars.” These people aren’t worth the energy of trying to combat. Inclusivity is a good thing. And while I didn’t think Rose was a particularly well written or fleshed out character either, a jump to her inclusion being part of a liberal agenda is sexist and racist.
 
I’m more talking about the people who will talk your ear off about how Yoda and Luke’s uses of the Force in The Last Jedi are “not how the Force works.” Or the people whose only criticism of Kylo Ren is that he isn’t just Darth Vader again. Or the people who say that Luke shouldn’t have been bitter and old because that’s not the Luke they remember. Or the people who just sweepingly declare that the new films are bad because they don’t feel like they think Star Wars should feel because of about 1,000 different minute factors.
 
All of these criticisms stem from the same general place: people want Star Wars to make them feel like a kid again. They don’t like that Luke has grown cynical because Luke was the optimist of the original trilogy. So they ignore the storytelling elements and themes of The Last Jedi which clearly articulate why Luke is like this now and skip directly to “but that’s not Luke.” They don’t like that Kylo Ren is a petulant child rather than a stoic badass because that’s what Vader was. But they completely overlook that Kylo Ren is a complicated and interesting character who actually has a hell of a lot more depth and nuance than Vader ever had.
 
And the mentality of wanting to feel that nostalgia at such a direct, one-to-one level is the core of the problem. Each aspect of the hardcore fans’ nostalgia has to be precisely integrated into the new Star Wars for them to “feel like a kid again.” This way of thinking fundamentally misunderstands the entire point of creating a new trilogy of Star Wars films. Yes, part of what these movies are trying to do is harken back to the originals to get older butts in seats. But from both a marketing and thematic perspective, the new Star Wars trilogy is meant for the same core audience the original trilogy was likely meant for: kids.
 
Now I feel like saying a thing that adults like is “for kids” automatically riles people up. Just because something was created with the intention of entertaining children doesn’t mean it can’t also be appealing toward adults or have the deeper theming of movies targeted for adults. Star Wars clearly worked for both children and adults. But children are the first priority, and have been since far before Disney purchased the franchise (Ewoks, Boba Fett and Jar Jar Banks are all clear examples of George Lucas pandering to kids or trying to sell toys).
 
So if Star Wars target audience is the youth of today, not the former youth of 40 years ago, it stands to reason that the newer films will contain more elements that today’s movie-going audience is more used to. This means more action, more witty dialogue from the characters rather than the dryer humor of the original trilogy and a larger focus on character than story. The key is that Star Wars has managed to do this while continuing to intertwine the themes and mythos that made the OG trilogy so memorable and timeless.
 
This is why it is so frustrating to see older neckbeards demand that their Star Wars satiate their need for nostalgia by shitting all over the new films’ minute changes to their interpretation of Star Wars while completely ignoring every effort these films are making to adapt. And this isn’t to say that Force Awakens and The Last Jedi aren’t flawed, or that you are one of these neckbeardy fans if you didn’t like either (or both) of these films. But I’d love, just once, to hear some legitimate criticism of these films from “fans” that doesn’t immediately dip into the kind of nostalgia-blindness that will hinder Star Wars if we let it.
 
And I’d honestly love to see Star Wars get even more different than it is. Rogue One was a step in the right direction in terms of creating anthology films in the Star Wars universe that feel tonally different. Solo...wasn’t. Star Wars needs a chance to breath and explore, come up with wild stories and crazy worlds that continue to enthrall children and impress adults. That’s not going to happen if we keep demanding to see the Millenium Falcon in every movie exactly the way it’s “meant to look” or refuse to accept well-written characters like Rey because she isn’t a Skywalker or Obi Wan’s daughter or some other contrived bullshit. We need to let go. Let the past die. Kill it if we have to.

There are some people who just sell dumb action well. The Rock seems to hit that spot for a lot of people. Others love watching Liam Neeson’s old ass Taken the shit out of bad guys. My soft spot is for the rugged cockney manliness that manifests itself as Jason Statham. The man is exceedingly charming and sells a punch like a guy who seen enough real-life scraps to know what getting hit in the face looks like. Movies like the latter Fast and Furious films, Safe and even The Expendables 2 do a decent job at balancing minimal attention to interesting plot or character with balls to the wall action and Statham is one of the main reasons these films work at all. Watch the scene in Fate of the Furious where he fights a bunch of guys while carrying a baby and try to tell me you didn’t start gleefully giggling.
 
That’s why part of me thought The Meg might work. A modern, action-heavy take on Jaws with some charismatic actors might make waves on the big screen. But, unfortunately, the film falls into the standard traps of the summer blockbuster, offering the occasional quip or solid cinematography but not enough so to distract from the film’s overall lack of substance.
 
Statham plays Jonas Taylor, an ex-rescue diver who is forced back into action when his ex-wife and her diving crew are trapped in a submarine. The team work for billionaire Jack Morris (Rainn Wilson) and scientist Suyin (Li Bingbing), who are attempting to discover a biome underneath the previously recorded lowest point on Earth. But when the rescue attempt causes a megalodon, a supposedly extinct giant shark, to escape, Taylor and the team must stop it before it kills a shit ton of innocent people.
 
The Meg is exceedingly tropey. The characters are all stereotypes to a tee. And the plot is as predictable as one would expect from this kind of movie. I don’t even really feel the need to describe the nature of the character archetypes featured in the film, because I am certain you have already figured out what all the characters are like. Sure, they all have a few decent one-liners that break up the monotony of their dialogue. But the majority of the quips fall flat, especially when they create tonal whiplash. For example, characters make jokes in the same sentence that they talk about the friends they just watched die.
 
And like a lot of recent action fare, there is the occasional decent shot and the score is pretty good (it’s by the guy who scored Shrek, so of course its gold). But the standard conventions of PG-13 action still stand. The camera shakes all the fuck over the place, so you can’t really see what’s going on. There aren’t many opportunities for Statham to show off his action choreography chops, seeing as he isn’t fighting people but a big ass shark. The majority of the action involves watching either a big shark eating people without actually being able to really see it, or Statham flailing around in the water and piloting a submarine, both of which are exceedingly dull.
 
I just read that The Meg was originally going to be an over-the-top R-rated bloodbath film. Maybe then it could have at least been fun. But the appeal to a more massive audience robbed the film of most of its potential hyper-violent glee. What results is something generic and expected. It is the quintessential bland August release.
 
Grade: C-

​I didn't really grew up with Winnie-the-Pooh. I recognize all the characters, know some of the catchphrases and can even recite the majority of “The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers.” But I think that’s just because the characters are ingrained into the popular culture. I’ve never read the original stories by A.A. Milne, or any subsequent books. And if I ever saw any of the movies or TV specials, I certainly don't remember any details about them.
 
So it is fully possible that Christopher Robin will connect better with Pooh-heads (I know that’s not a thing, just let me have this pun) than it did with me. Perhaps the film’s charm is lost on someone who didn’t grow up with these characters. But, for me, Christopher Robin feels less like a nostalgic reinterpretation of the classic characters and more like the kind of slogging, poorly written movie that I’d expect to see on Lifetime.
 
The film follows a now adult Christopher Robin (Ewan McGregor), who lives in London with his wife and daughter and works at a luggage company. His friends Winnie-the-Pooh (Jim Cummings), Eeyore (Brad Garrett) and more are waiting for him to return to the Hundred Acre Wood, but he has become too preoccupied with work to care about anything else. But when Pooh mysteriously ends up in London, they must journey to find the rest of the gang and rekindle Robin’s sense of adventure.
 
One of the chief problems is that the film’s interpretation of Robin is very hard to root for. The movie feels like it is trying to be like Hook, but McGregor doesn’t apply the same charm as Robin Williams. Adult Robin is unlikeable, and his complete lack of charm before he inevitably changes makes it very difficult for me to believe he is so reformed by the end of the film. The number of times he yells at Pooh about his VERY IMPORTANT IRREPLACEABLE PAPERS is exhausting.
 
The dialogue spoken by the human characters certainly doesn’t help. The screenplay dishes out trope after trope: missing a family vacation because of work, a character saying “where are my damn reinforcements” in the war scene, and an ending ripped straight out of Elf. Every human character is paper thin and exceedingly one dimensional. That being said, the Hundred Acre Woods characters are all as charming as ever. Cummings as Pooh is classic and Garrett’s Eeyore provided some of the only chuckle-worthy moments of the film.
 
And then there’s the visual style. The film is overwhelmingly grey. Occasionally, this works to the movie’s advantage at either building atmosphere or creating some pretty beautiful shots. But, for the most part, the visual style is a little too downtrodden. Combine that with some pretty poor editing and mediocre camerawork, and the film ends up feeling dreary and uninspired.
 
Besides the few genuinely heart-string tugging moments between Pooh and Robin at the end (carried by Cummings, might I add), the film didn’t make me feel much of anything. It was a mundane experience. The only real emotional response I ever had was annoyance at the lazy predictability of the screenplay. Christopher Robin is just a dull, uninteresting film.
 
Grade: C-