Category: David Corenswet

SUPERGIRL

By Marc S. Sanders

I don’t understand it.  A billion-dollar movie studio like Warner Brothers, with DC Studios, has all of the resources imaginable and nearly ninety years of source material to draw from and they opt for absolute dreck populated with three literal vomit scenes.  In the first twenty seconds of the movie, the hero’s dog urinates on the floor!  This is Supergirl, and this is the best they came up with?

Milly Alcock is a fine actress. She’s got an unusual tomboy appearance (that is unfairly and cruelly being ridiculed online) and she’s ready to offer gusto and nerve. Unfortunately, with her first big marquee picture, she is wrongly lent a disservice with a terrible script written by Ana Nogueira (The Vampire Diaries).  The story is simple and that’s not a complaint.  Basically, a villain called Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts), who looks like a foreground extra from a Mad Max picture, gets his spot in the limelight when he slaughters the family of a young girl named Ruthye (Eve Ridley) and poisons the super terrier dog Krypto.  Kara Zor-El (aka Supergirl) has 72 hours to find Krem and recover the antidote or the lovable mutt will die.  Plus, she has to discourage Ruthye from slaying Krem out of a means of revenge.  While they are at it, Kara might as well try to break up a trafficking ring of young girls held in captivity. The pair hop from one seedy bar to another in their quest and encounter the ugliest alien beings imaginable.  These are all Star Wars rejects of the worst looking kind.  None of these characters would even make good action figures.

Spliced within this main plot line, Kara recalls her origin on Kryton, followed by her arrival on Earth where she meets Kal-El, aka Clark Kent/Superman (David Corenswet), for the first time. These flashbacks are the best parts of the picture. Kara struggles with staying by her dying family or leaving them to survive and prosper as a hero.  The demise of Krypton is covered again but then there are residual moments that pertain specifically to Kara that were not extensively covered in other films.

Otherwise, this gal is a miserable drunk, wanting to celebrate her twenty-third birthday by herself, because that’s entertaining and healthy. When she’s not drunk, she’s just hungover.  How is any of this fun or appealing?  Moreover, this is Supergirl. So, I want to see her dressed as Supergirl.  The imagery sells these comic book characters, right.  It’s about pictured aesthetics first.  Kara allows her oversized trench coat to drape sloppily over her hair and untucked Blondie t-shirt.  Bubble size sunglasses hide her red eye. It’s like the costumer and creators are trying as hard as they can to make her as repulsive as possible. Are we meant to enjoy this? Supergirl is not John Belushi in Animal House. He made drunkenness an art form.

Kara’s Kryptonian mother gets sick.  So, she throws up.  Kara gets poisoned.  So, she throws up.  Kara pees with the door opened.  She munches on alien poop and then realizes it tastes like shit.  Duh!  Ruthye spits on Krem. Krypto pees on a Superman newspaper article.  Every bodily fluid imaginable is presented to disgust your pallet, and if it is done for bathroom humor it’s not funny and if it is done for dramatic heights, it really was never, ever necessary.

Jason Momoa is back as Aquaman…I’m sorry Lobo, who’s basically Aquaman now, but caked in black vampire makeup and equipped with a cigar and a motorcycle.  He’s a b-character from the DC comics. An anti-hero that I think enthusiasts celebrate like they do with Deadpool.  The guy looks like a KISS rocker from outer space.  Though I don’t know what he contributes to this movie with the exception of finally bringing the ever so famous Lobo to life.  The guy never turns the tides on the narrative.  He has nothing funny to say like Deadpool might.  His motorcycle doesn’t perform any outstanding stunts.  His cigar lights up without a match, and he sits in a prison cell.  That’s it! He’s muscle but with no expressive superpowers. He observes, rather than participates. So, what’s he doing here?

After all of the Superman iterations and spinoffs, why does James Gunn, who is blessed with creative control of the entire DC franchise, stay away from the wide gallery of rogue villains offered over the last century of comic books. There’s Braniac (who I’ve read will finally arrive in the next Superman film), Metallo, and Mr. Mytxlplyk.  The Toyman too. Heck, Jerry Seinfeld introduced the backwards/opposite functioning Bizzaro Superman in his sitcom about nothing.  These are all drawn from the weird cloth that I’d think Gunn would encourage since his success with Guardians Of The Galaxy.  Instead, we are dealt an unappealing, truly ugly and uncool, one-dimensional adversary with spikes in his face, dressed in leather.  I read that Krem is a featured bad guy in recent comic iteration of Supergirl. I don’t care. This storyline adaptation is a terrible option to follow. The day after seeing this movie, I can’t even recall what accent this guy Krem uses.  He’s positively forgettable and I think as unimaginable an invention as that nuclear dude from Superman IV: The Quest For Peace.  

Craig Gillespie (I, Tonya) has not assembled a good film.  I saw it on IMAX, and the enhancement did his picture no favors. Supergirl punches and kicks more than she flies.  She shoots the lasers out of her eyes and uses the x-ray vision, but where’s the super breath?  Where’s the super speed? The super hearing? Couldn’t we see her fly more?  The fight choreography is clunky and at times hard to decipher through dark CGI moving at too many frames per second.   Gillispie’s team only makes up for that by deliberately concealing Kara kicking ass and focusing on Ruthye shuddering under a table during a barroom brawl.  Not cute.  Not funny.  Just lazy craftsmanship.

There’s no wit to anything said.  Krypto is cute as a misbehaving rascal, but there’s nothing to laugh or cheer for in the rest of the film, and when Supergirl finally defeats Krem, her last act is offensively anticlimactic.  Actually, it’s obscenely hypocritical to the doctrines she tried to instill in Ruthye over the course of the film, and it crudely defies what the Superman/Supergirl mythology has always stood for.  I wanted to throw my popcorn at the screen.

Supergirl is not a total failure thanks to Milly Alcock.  She looks great in the costume and has a heroic appeal in the limited time that’s offered from the script.  Krypto is a precocious troublemaker and the Kryton footage and background look sharp, even if unoriginal. Efforts to make the alien dialogue feel authentic works nicely and enhances the fantasy/sci-fi demands.  Yet, these are just small ingredients in a stew lacking anything savory.  

Since 1984, Kal-El’s cousin has been done criminally wrong now for the third time (don’t forget The Flash from a few years ago) on the big screen. On all occasions it’s clear the filmmakers didn’t even try to research and explore what was easily at their fingertips.  Instead, they just literally vomited, shit, spit and pissed out whatever popped into their heads first – a John Wick storyline with a failed Mad Max villain, drenched in an assortment of bodily fluids.

Fly away from Supergirl. 

SUPERMAN (2025)

By Marc S. Sanders

Once again the man in blue, red and yellow has returned to the big screen by means of director James Gunn who is intent on starting a whole new universe of DC comics characters.  The 2025 interpretation of Superman is zippy and fun even if it is a little too shallow of character development and dimension.  That’s regrettably ironic actually.  A man who dons two different personalities, Superman and mild-mannered reporter Clark Kent. Yet, neither has much to say or stand for in this two hour picture.

Gunn’s film is defiant to avoid any heavy exposition as this film begins.  There’s a slim foreword as the picture begins to describe this new universe that contains metahumans who arrived on Earth centuries ago, along with a little bit of Kal-el’s origin that many of us are familiar with.  Then we see the Man Of Steel crater into the Antarctic wounded from battle and aided by his feisty canine friend, Krypto, who drags him to his ice palace, the Fortress of Solitude.

Action commences thereafter back in Metropolis.  Lex Luthor (Nicholas Hoult) is pulling the puppet strings.  Lois Lane (Rachel Brosnahan) and the rest of the Daily Planet staff witness the mayhem over the city.

Then we get a bit of Clark looking a little goofy as he rushes into work, followed by some romantic interlude between Clark and Lois back at her apartment.  The two toe the line of their relationship when finally, the Superman persona allows his girlfriend to test his purpose for serving planet Earth along with his limits of authority and decisive action.  They go back and forth but none of the dialogue lands and the argument has no impact.  A missed opportunity to set up the Lois and Clark relationship.

The rest of the picture focuses on comic book episodes of endangering Superman while other metahumans make appearances – an obnoxious Green Lantern (Nathan Fillion), Hawkgirl, the shape shifting Metamorpho, and the surprisingly entertaining Mr. Terrific (Edi Gathegi) who seems to operate like Mr. Spock from Star Trek.  Of the four, the guy with the dumbest name actually serves the picture the best.

James Gunn’s film takes a huge departure from the recent films of Zach Snyder’s universe.  Nothing is dark and hardly anything is morose.  Some subplots seem to be ripped from the headlines of current events that’ll have you thinking about the Russian-Ukraine war.  None of it is overly heavy though because this picture is designed for families to watch together. 

Superman is pure escape with a red cape.

What I miss though is what both the Snyder and the Christopher Reeve pictures offered.  What does Superman mean to himself and the planet Earth?  The one conversation between Lois and Clark/Superman goes on long and while it feels like there is a purpose in that exchange, I cannot recall one kind of conclusion that stemmed from it.  For the rest of the film, Lois flies a spaceship and helps a weakened Superman find aid. When the two share any more scenes together it is for the action of the piece followed by a kissing scene.  I just didn’t respond to the puppy love or risks of their relationship that other iterations offered.  Their connection is just written a little too thin.  That’s a problem, because the Superman mythos always hinged on their relationship in the face of danger or true love or even journalistic integrity.

Am I being too serious and hardheaded?  Yes.  Nevertheless, even with a comic book/Saturday morning cartoon gloss, I wanted to see more weight to the relationship between the two characters.

The best attraction is Nicholas Hoult as a connivingly evil Lex Luthor.  He’s a raging madman bent on destroying Superman like everyone knows and the actor chews the scenery while primarily hiding in his glass headquartered command center for most of the film.  Anytime the movie diverts to Luthor, the picture just felt more alive.  This is a great Lex Luthor!!!!!!

Like he did with a smart aleck racoon in his other films, James Gunn introduces a toy line merchandise with the flying white terrier dog known as Krypto.  His intent is for audiences to cheer for him like other precocious creatures from past films such as any Disney movie or E.T. or Baby Yoda or Rocket Raccoon.  He’s cute and spirited.  When he’s in danger, the kids will be worried.  When he flies into the center of the screen with a bark or a yelp, everyone will applaud. 

David Corenswet is Superman.  He’s fine.  He definitely looks like the part.  He’s a happy go lucky Kryptonian.  He’ll never be as memorable as Christopher Reeve.  I also have more to appreciate in Henry Cavill’s performance.  I just didn’t see Corenswet do enough with this role.  I’ve yet to really see the dramatic chops he could offer.  Simply lying on the floor of a cell while falling ill to Krytonite is not urgent or frightening enough.  I hardly got to know this guy to care enough if he lives or dies.  I hope he’ll blossom some more within future installments of Gunn’s superhero universe.  That’s up to the writers though.  David Corenswet is pleasingly relaxed in a role that demands almost a hundred years of acceptance for a modern age.  I’m confident he can do it and that Gunn cast the right guy for the part.  While he’s acceptable, both Corenswet and Brosnahan would best be served better material for them to work together. 

As for Rachel Brosnahan, I guess she’s okay.  I don’t see her do much beside fly a spaceship.  Lois Lane is such an immense character of brains and gusto striving to always be the number one reporter.  Her only weakness is her love for Superman.  There’s not much I remember about her from this film.  I did notice that she primarily wears purple like the character did in 1990’s animated series.  Nice salute.  Come on James Gunn.  Rachel Brosnahan is good actress.  Give her something more to do.  Let her act a little.  (Let David Corenswet act a little too.)

It’s wonderful that an optimistic interpretation of Superman has arrived.  We need it.  It’s colorful and fun.  It could be more exciting, though, with higher stakes that just didn’t arrive quite right.  This film is not my ideal picture of the hero, but the universe to come, especially with a quick appearance from another character at the conclusion, offers promise. 

Despite my reservations, the new DC Cinematic Universe seems to be in the right hands once again, and James Gunn’s team will deliver something entertaining for the next few years to come.

PEARL (2022)

by Miguel E. Rodriguez

DIRECTOR: Ti West
CAST: Mia Goth, David Corenswet, Tandi Wright, Emma Jenkins-Purro
MY RATING: 10/10
ROTTEN TOMATOMETER: 93% Certified Fresh

PLOT: In 1918, a young Texas woman on the brink of madness pursues stardom in a desperate attempt to escape the drudgery, isolation, and lovelessness of life on her parents’ farm.


I originally gave Pearl a rating of 9 out of 10 because it was not quite as terrifying as its predecessor, X [2022], but I have decided to amend that to a 10 out of 10 based solely on the performance by Mia Goth in the title role.  If her performance had appeared in anything other than an indie horror film, I firmly believe she would have been nominated for an Oscar, or at least a Golden Globe.  But I’ll get to that in a second.

Pearl is a prequel to the acclaimed horror flick X, in which most of a porno film crew is stalked and murdered by an insane old woman, Pearl, and her equally insane old husband, Howard, in Texas in 1979.  It starred Mia Goth as Maxine, a stripper who was convinced she was meant for bigger and better things.  This time, in the prequel, Goth plays Pearl as a young woman growing up in Texas, but this time it’s 1918.  World War I is on the verge of ending, but the Spanish Flu pandemic is in full swing; folks in town don’t go anywhere or do anything in town without wearing a cloth mask over their nose and mouth.  (Sound familiar?)

Pearl’s home life is not quite functional.  In her first scene, over a lush score that sounds as if it were imported from the 1940s, Pearl dances in the barn and talks to a cow and a goat and a horse, like Snow White, about how she’s going to become famous and leave town, and everyone will know her name.  Then a goose waddles in from outside and interrupts her conversation; Pearl gets an odd look in her eye, grabs a pitchfork, sidles up to the goose, aaaand you can probably guess the rest.  (The gator from X makes a nice cameo shortly thereafter.)  Meanwhile, that ‘40s musical score punctuates the action like a Disney movie.  The effect is profoundly odd, but compelling.

We learn more about Pearl’s home life with her invalid father and domineering mother, Ruth (Tandi Wright).  She married young, but her husband, Howard, was called off to war in Europe, leaving her alone with her less-than-ideal parents.  She dreams of fame, but Ruth, with her strong German accent, sternly reminds Pearl of her responsibilities to her father and the farm.  One day, Pearl rides her bicycle to town to buy medicine for her father (sounds like the beginning of a fairy tale) and decides to go to the movies, which were very different in 1918.  She meets the strikingly handsome projectionist (David Corenswet, aka the new Superman) who encourages her to take the time to live her own life before it’s too late.  On her way home, Pearl stops in a cornfield, finds a scarecrow, and engages in a charming little song and dance with him…until her mind plays tricks on her and the encounter turns into something altogether different.

The whole movie is like that.  Shot in vivid colors and featuring an evocative soundtrack, it alternates between The Wizard of Oz and Joker.  (In fact, IMDb trivia notes that female fans of this movie call it “the female Joker.”)  It keeps you off balance in all the best ways, threatening to fly apart, but Ti West’s direction and Mia Goth’s performance manage to hold everything together in a satisfying, but disturbing, whole.  As with X, I can acknowledge the achievement, but I’m damned if I can explain how it was done.

There are many highlights in Pearl: her audition for a traveling dance show.  Pearl wheeling her father to the edge of the lakeside dock.  The scarecrow.  The tipping point between Pearl and her mother.  The pig on the porch.  (Gross.)  The look on her father’s face when Pearl dresses him up for a gentleman caller.  But the pièce de résistance of the entire film is, without question, Pearl’s monologue.

In a movie in which Mia Goth teeters on overkill in several scenes, the screenplay (co-written by Goth and Ti West) provides Pearl with a heart-rending soliloquy that should be more famous than it is.  Pearl’s sister-in-law, Mitsi (Emma Jenkins-Purro), sensing that Pearl is troubled, encourages her to indulge in a little play-acting: “Pretend I’m Howard.  What do you want to say to me?”  What follows is a 7-minute speech, most of it captured in an unbroken 5-minute take that must be seen to be believed.  In it, Goth expresses virtually every emotion imaginable as she unburdens herself, purges herself of all her repressed rage at her husband for leaving her alone, at her mother for holding her back from her dreams, at her father for having the temerity to fall ill and causing her to remain home for his sake.

Does this speech excuse her violent behavior?  Not at all.  But it explains it as well as any other serial killer movie I’ve ever seen.  I was reminded a little bit of Charlize Theron in Monster [2003], who also played a woman who committed terrible crimes, yes, but who was pushed into making those choices by her family and a society who little noticed or cared about her situation.  That’s how stirring Goth’s performance is, that I would compare it to one of the greatest performances ever captured on film.  In a movie that flirts with parody a couple of times, this last speech grounds it and the main character firmly in the real world.  It’s truly astonishing.

I’m almost sorry I saw Pearl AFTER watching X.  Almost.  It kind of makes me want to go back and watch X again, armed with all this new information on Pearl’s backstory.  It also solidifies the psychic connection between Pearl and Maxine, which was touched on several times in X, and which I imagine will be revisited in some way in Maxxxine [2024]…but I’m just speculating.  Pearl is good enough to stand with any of the best serial-killer-origin stories ever made.

(P.S.  As with X, you’ll want to make sure you watch the credits, except this time you want to stay with it until the last image fades to black…you’ll know what I mean.  IMDb informs me this crazy, creepy moment happened because after the last line, director Ti West refused to yell “Cut” and just let the camera run, and the actor in question, being a professional, simply stayed in character.  It’s remarkably unsettling.)

TWISTERS

By Marc S. Sanders

Reader, often The Two Unpaid Critics will debate the merits or lack thereof in a film.  Usually, one likes the piece while the other does not.  It’s rare though when we both find fault with a movie but for entirely different reasons…and we argue about it.

Fair warning, a poorly constructed declaration is coming your way:

Twisters is better than Twister.  

However, this is like saying cat shit is tastier than dog shit.  

Understand, I had a grand ol’ time watching Twisters with Miguel by my side as the experience quickly gravitated to a Riff Trax viewing.  This apparent sequel to the stupidity that was released thirty years ago teaches us more about the nature of tornadoes.  Though when I insist that observation to Miguel, my comrade put me to the test and my giggles took hold of me because I couldn’t utter a single scientific fact.  Okay.  So it’s not that much brainier. Yet, it is brainier!!!

Twisters offers a background and a traumatic dimension to Kate (Daisy Edgar-Jones) who loses all but one of her entire collection of friendly storm chasers in the film’s prologue, and then weepily monologues about it later.  That’s what I wanted from Helen Hunt in the first movie.  Miguel rightfully questioned why she even needed to speak.  We were firsthand witnesses to this early tragedy.  

CURSES!!!! You foiled me again, Mig.

Okay, so with my arguments shredded to pieces within our debate, I heed to the fact that I am no Jack Kennedy.  Yet, at least I could laugh at how utterly ridiculous Twisters is.

Kate is requested back to her home state of Oklahoma to locate powerful tornadoes that now can be studied with new triangular sensors, each respectively called Scarecrow, Tin Man and Lion.  That garbage can called Dorothy has been put out to pasture.  There’s also a Wizard van. Cute wink and nod names.  No Glinda. No Witch. No Munchkin. No Flying Monkey. How lazy can a tornado movie get?

This corporation with the high-tech gear is competing against a convoy of redneck grunge daredevils led by Tyler, The Tornado Wrangler (Glen Powell).  He fits the persona with the cowboy hat that Brad Pitt wore in Thelma & Louise, along with the flannel shirts and a big ass belt buckle below his ripped chest.  

Tyler’s off road pickup is tricked out with anchors to drill in the ground holding his vehicle in place while he drives right into the middle of a storm.  He’ll also launch fireworks straight up into a funnel.  Whatever it takes to impress his You Tube followers.  

Get this!  Tyler is one of the most educated people in the world on meteorology.  Has to be true!!!! Absolutely has to be, because Glen Powell would never agree to portray a daredevil redneck without a brain to complement his chestnut hair and five o’clock shadow.

Twisters fails at suspense, but unintentionally wins at outrageous comedy when the movie opts to have its terrible tornadoes attack Americana.  As soon as they show small town USA with the little league softball game, I broke out laughing.  I was waiting for the homemaker to put out a pie on her windowsill.  Where’s Bob Seger singing “Like A Rock” from those Chevy commercials?  Tyler, Kate and the gang race to save everyone in town single-handedly without ever calling emergency services.  Only ONE COP appears in the whole movie. Fortunately, once the storm moves on from its devastation, there’s a complete clear road with absolutely no debris for the Tyler’s gang to drive on through. I mean does this movie think for itself or what?

We are treated to people flying away and a water tower toppling over.  A movie house rips apart while Frankenstein shows on the screen.  There’s the inevitable moment when a character gets a leg stuck under wreckage while the others try to get him free but can’t lift him out as the storm bears down.  But wait!!!! At just the last second– I saw this in episodes of The Incredible Hulk and CHiPs and…um…well…Twister!

Earlier in the film, Tyler and Kate have an opportunity to settle their differences while taking in a rodeo.  Of course, Tyler the redneck meteorologist and Tornado Wrangler used to be a rodeo clown as well.  

Then!!!!

What’s this?  

“We gotta get these people to safety??”  

“Is there a basement around here?”

Apparently, Oklahoma is running low on basements.  Not a single basement anywhere in the state where the wind comes sweeping down the plains!!!!!  

Twisters fails because it is paint by numbers, and it shouldn’t be.  It should never be this transparent. The most unpredictable of weather phenomena is so laughably unsurprising when it should be dazzling and frightening and nail biting.  None of it is new.  Everything you expect to happen, happens.

This picture even fails at lending a nasty bad guy to its screenplay.  The rich old guy with the bolo tie, a true indicator of villainy, tours around the devastation. He’s offering to buy the properties of people who have lost their homes so that further profitability can be made with ongoing research into tornado activity.  Yeah.  This guy is a regular Darth Vader or Hannibal Lechter, alright.  Hang him in the town square and then stone his rotting carcass.  Seriously, what’s so wrong with this guy’s intentions?  Kate is disgusted for some reason, but if I just lost my house and my farm and my crops and my flat screen and all my blu rays, heck yeah, I’ll take this fat cat’s money.  

Miguel refused to write a review for Twisters.  However, I’m taking free liberty to share his compounded thoughts. As the end credits rolled over home movie footage of the happy cast, he declared this film is devoid of any kind of suspense, whatsoever.  He’s not wrong, and neither am I.  

Twisters is better than Twister but for all the wrong reasons.