Brave: All action, little substance
Narratively, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, is
a paradox doomed from the start, as it simultaneously has too much story, and
yet, not enough. Those who haven’t been with the MCU from the start or done a
deep dive into its history are likely to be at sea with its story, which is
ostensibly a sequel to one of the franchise’s least loved entries, 2008’s The
Incredible Hulk. Characters not seen since that feature play key roles
here, while those who let the Disney+ series, The Falcon and the Winter
Soldier, slip through the cracks will be wondering where Chris Evans is.
To the movie’s detriment, Onah wastes little time throwing
the viewer into the deep end, as we’re greeted with the sight of the new
Captain America, Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie), busting up a hostage situation.
Seems the mercenary Sidewinder (Giancarlo Esposito) has botched an operation in
which he was supposed to pick up a container with classified material.
Fortunately, Wilson and the new Falcon, Joaquin Torres (Danny Ramirez),
intercept it and return it to a grateful President Ross (Harrison Ford, taking
over for the deceased William Hurt).
As a token of thanks, the Commander-in-Chief invites the two
heroes, along with Isaiah Bradley (Carl Lumbly), a veteran who was experimented
on during the Super Soldier Initiative and forgotten, to the White House. The
event is the announcement of an international treaty regarding the mining and
ownership of materials gathered from the remains of the Celestial Tiamut, which
were revealed in the forgettable Eternals. However, all goes off the rails when
Bradley and four others try to assassinate Ross, an event that puts the entire
agreement in danger.
I could likely compose another two or three paragraphs with
plot details, but I’ll spare you. Long story short, Wilson realizes Bradley’s
been set up, tries to find out who’s pulling the strings and uncovers a
conspiracy as convoluted as it is nonsensical.
Whenever there are more than two screenwriters working on
the same script that spells trouble, but when there’s five…well, you get
something like this mess. Though there are numerous scribes credited, it seems
as though they were all pulling from the same resources. Yes, the film is made up of plenty of
incidents, but none of it is new, resulting in the feeling that nothing is
really happening. This is the equivalent of leftover meatloaf, satisfying the
first time, not so much the second…or third…or fourth…
As for this film’s version of the Hulk, he is of the crimson
variety and Ross is his alter-ego. How the president becomes the
personification of how I feel when I stub my toe is perhaps the cleverest
thing in the script. The transformation and showdown with Wilson don’t occur
until well into the third act, but it’s worth the wait. The battle that ensues
is titanic and nearly worth the price of admission. However, it comes off as
anti-climactic after having sat through the needless narrative convolutions
that proceed it.
With his legacy firmly established, it’s a mystery why Ford
would dip his toe in the MCU pool this late in his career. To his credit, he
doesn’t phone it in, bringing the sort of stately strength we’ve come to expect
from him, while sweating bullets as he tries to contain his character’s rage.
Indications are that he’ll be back for more. As for Mackie, he’s surprisingly
stiff, not comfortable delivering the quips Wilson is given, laboring in the
more intimate scenes. There’s little in the way of passion or enthusiasm in
anything he does in the role, making it even harder to stay engaged in the
plot.
As with many of the MCU features, I tend to remember the
quiet moments when these larger-than-life characters reveal their humanity. Brave
contains a few. Among them is a scene in which Ross begs his estranged
daughter, Betty (Liv Tyler), for forgiveness, and a moment in which Wilson
expresses doubts of ever being able to step out of the shadow of his
predecessor, Steve Rogers. These scenes, not the bloated, numbing action
sequences Onah pummels the viewer with, are what stand out in Brave. It’s in these moments I connect with the characters and the film. The
bombastic, been-there-done-that pyrotechnics are just so much needless filler. In theaters.
Paddington in Peru preaches the gospel of kindness
Just when the world has got me down, Paddington in Peru rides to the rescue. Like the previous two entries in the series, Dougal
Wilson’s film is a collection of astounding visual sequences, driven by
imaginative, slapstick humor with cinema’s most charming bear at the center.
However, it is the effortless way in which the movie reminds us of the power of
kindness that makes it stand out amidst other children’s fare, Paddington
living by the Golden Rule, his every action a courtesy. That these films can
deliver this message without ever laying it on too thick is one of the secrets
to their success. Of course, there’s the
appealing lead ursine performer that’s a draw, as well.
Paddington (voice by Ben Whishaw) has become a fixture in
the Brown family as well as the neighborhood they live in. His brand of
effortless optimism is effusive and makes the lives of everyone who lives on
their street better. However, Paddington becomes concerned when he gets a
letter from the Reverend Mother (Olivia Colman) at the Old Bears’ Home in Peru.
Seems his Aunt Lucy (Imelda Staunton) isn’t feeling well and is acting oddly.
Concerned, Paddington, with the Browns in tow, sets out to see just what’s
amiss, only to find out when they arrive that Aunt Lucy has wandered off into
the jungle.
Unsure what to do, they hire Hunter Cabot (Antonio Banderas)
and his daughter, Gina (Carla Tous), to take them down the Amazon on their
steamer in the hopes of finding the missing bear. However, things go awry and
soon Paddington, Henry (Hugh Bonneville), Mary (Emily Mortimer), Jonathan
(Samuel Joslin) and Judy (Madeleine Harris) find themselves lost in the wild.
There are surprises aplenty as Aunt Lucy’s disappearance is
not what it seems, Reverend Mother proves to have a checkered past and Cabot is
suffering from a peculiar brand of psychosis. Banderas is a hoot as he takes on
multiple roles. Seems Cabot is haunted by his ancestors, among them a Spanish conquistador, a missionary and a dashing aviatrix. The actor plays all of these
roles, a glint in his eye, reveling in the opportunity to rend the scenery in
the service of this fantastic tale. Equally fun, but underused, is Colman, the
Oscar-winner delivering a wonderfully restrained comedic performance. It’s
obvious from the start her character’s hiding something, the actress employing
a disingenuous smile that becomes wider and more rictus as her secret is
increasingly threatened.
Film-literate viewers will appreciate the allusions to The
Sound of Music, Fitzcarraldo, Raiders of the Lost Ark, and Buster Keaton’s
most famous stunt, each effortlessly woven into the action. The jokes are plentiful
and effective, while the film sports two timely messages. Having worked in the
insurance industry for years, Mr. Brown finally conquers his fears and embraces
the risk that comes with living life to its fullest, a message each member of
the family comes to embrace.
And as with each film in the franchise, Paddington in
Peru espouses the virtues of kindness with aplomb. Though the movie states
nothing new, its message concerning the power of love and the necessity of
empathy needs to be heard now more than ever. In theaters.
Becoming a rollicking origin story
The participation of the three surviving band members –
Jimmy Page, Robert Plant and John Paul Jones – is vital to Becoming Led
Zeppelin’s success. Their first-hand memories and anecdotes offer an
in-depth look at not only the beginning of the band but a historical record of
London’s music scene from the mid 1940s to the early 1970s. The addition of a
never-before-heard interview from drummer John Bonham helps fill out the band’s
story, each of the members coming from disparate social and musical
backgrounds.
Using newsreel footage and clips from privately shot home
movies, director Bernard MacMahon masterfully sets the scene, reminding us that
post-World War II London was a city in disrepair, its populace eager to resume
their lives, open to societal changes that would help signal its resurrection.
Each of the band members recount being gob smacked by the rhythm and blues
records being imported from America, Little Richard, Sonny Boy Williamson and
their peers having a profound effect on them. But the music from the States was
only one aspect of the country that intrigued them. As Plant states, “America
was my dream,” realizing the land across the pond was one ripe with the
opportunities England couldn’t offer.
However, getting there was a journey fraught with
difficulties. Each getting their musical education at a young age, Page and
Jones would get their feet in the door as session players in London’s recording
studios. Bonham also got an early start, eventually forming his first band in
his teen years, slowly climbing the ranks of the club scene. Page would find
himself on the outs with his parents, who cut him off after he decided to
pursue a singing career. Eventually, due to his unique voice, stage presence
and good looks, he too found himself on the rise, despite being homeless and at
loose ends.
Having made his mark with The Yardbirds, Page was eager to
branch out and experiment. Hearing him, Bonham, Jones and Plant each recount
how their paths intersected is one of the highlights of the film – you can see
a sly smile play across their respective faces as they speak. Equally
interesting are the various film clips showing their initial efforts on stage
and in the studio. There’s a confidence about them that grows with each
successive scene. Breaking new ground sonically, there’s an assurance about
their approach that’s arresting. Ignoring the various naysayers, they take the
public by storm – some repelled by them, others embracing their radical
approach. This is never more obvious than during an early appearance in America
in which various members of the audience are seen putting their hands over
their ears, pained expressions on their faces.
Of course, there’s no shortage of the band’s music, MacMahon
culling from a vast trove of concert footage of Zeppelin’s initial appearances.
Seeing them control the stage and entrance concertgoers is a bittersweet
reminder of what’s been lost in the overproduced, sanitized era of arena rock
we live in. Each member of the band exudes a palpable sense of excitement
that’s infectious and that’s where Becoming’s power lies. In theaters.
This article appears in The Wedding Issue 2025.
