There’s no reason Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse should work, really. It mucks about with concepts that only deep readers of the comic books will be familiar with. It introduces half a dozen new characters in an incredibly short amount of time. It is brought to life in an odd animation style that serves as an implicit rejection of the super-slick Pixar/Disney ideal that has come to dominate animated films in recent years.
For reasons I refuse to disclose, I watched Netflix’s A Christmas Prince: The Royal Wedding this weekend. The movie is the second in the series of movies about a nonthreatening conventionally attractive journalist named Amber, who goes undercover to interview Richard, the prince of a generic European country called Aldovia. Spoilers: they fall in love. …
Widows is well cast and perfectly acted, tells a compelling story about how corruption aids outright criminality without being overly didactic about it, and is directed with a firmness one might expect from an Oscar-winning director whose command of visual storytelling verges on the total. If it weren’t for the fact that there’s one twist too many, it would be a nearly perfect movie.
It feels as though director Luca Guadagnino looked at the original Suspiria, decided it made too little use of its setting (a ballet academy), and said to himself “What if the original had fewer trashy kills, less provocative and expressionistic lighting set ups, a duller soundtrack, and way, way more dancing?”
The Shape flits about the edge of my vision, darting hither and yon. The music swells and a silhouette streaks by. The movements are surprisingly quick and agile, the shadows on the floor seemingly independent from the lights on the screen projecting David Gordon Green’s sequel/soft-reboot of Halloween. The Shape remains obscured—we’ve yet to get a good look at him, at his face. And then, a flash of light! The Shape is illuminated. It stares right at me, piercing my soul with his eyes, black as night.