New releases: 30 July 2024

Firstly, an update on yesterday’s post about The Chills: The Triumph and Tragedy of Martin Phillipps. Since we went to press (press?) DocPlay in Australia and New Zealand announced they were mak­ing the film avail­able for free until 5 August.

Reader JR of Auckland emailed to let me know that the film is also stream­ing for free on Māori+ which was a remind­er that I need to check in there more often.

I also need to apo­lo­gise to old pal Stephen Ure whose name I spelled with a ‘v’ in my recom­mend­a­tion of Deathgasm on Friday. The error is regretted.

New Zealand read­ers will be aware of the release last week of the recent Royal Commission into Abuse in State and Church Care. It details a heart­break­ing and scan­dal­ous his­tory and chal­lenges the nation to do bet­ter – for those that suffered and those still to come.

Somehow I was reminded that the last Deadpool movie fea­tured Russell (Julian Dennison), a young Māori char­ac­ter whose trauma and abuse in an orphan­age prompts him to use his nas­cent mutant powers to lash out and cause indis­crim­in­ate destruc­tion. In the end, it is only a ges­ture of self-sacrifice from Wade Wilson (Ryan Reynolds) that turns the kid around and shows him that someone cares.

There’s noth­ing that thought-provoking in Deadpool & Wolverine.

But I’m finally giv­ing in and learn­ing to judge these Marvel movies on a com­ic book curve rather than a motion pic­ture one. Things that are import­ant to me as a film lov­er – like end­ings – are mean­ing­less here. In com­ic books, end­less reboots and retool­ing, par­al­lel uni­verses, ret-conning timelines aren’t prob­lems, they are the point.

The prob­lem for tra­di­tion­al audi­ences like myself is that the stakes are dif­fer­ent now. If a char­ac­ter can nev­er really die, then the drama becomes about how they are resur­rec­ted not will they sur­vive. And the resur­rec­tion in D&W is almost entirely arbitrary.

In the Disney+ series Loki, Tom Hiddleston’s trick­ster Norse god both redeems and dis­cov­ers him­self through his ulti­mate sac­ri­fice and it was actu­ally quite mean­ing­ful. These guys just turn up again – after we have seen them des­troyed in a ‘self­less act of sav­ing the world’ – telling us that when they hold hands they are basic­ally indes­truct­ible and ask­ing us to believe them.

A gag early in the film is Deadpool call­ing him­self “Marvel Jesus”, as if he’s com­ing to save the MCU, but what is the point of Jesus if every­one can be resurrected?

(It is a little bit clev­er that after Deadpool/Wade telling us through the entire film that he wishes to “mat­ter”, it is mat­ter – and anti-matter – that gives him what he wants.)

Apparently, Deadpool and Wolverine was shot in only 39 days – the shortest shoot in Marvel his­tory – and I’m sorry to say it looks like it. If, like me, you loved the beau­ti­ful atten­tion to detail giv­en to the Time Variance Authority sets in the Loki series, you’ll be dis­ap­poin­ted at how cheap and crappy it looks in this film.

It’s as if all the money went on Jackman’s pen­sion fund (or pay­ing for his divorce?) and none of it on Marvel’s tra­di­tion­al pro­duc­tion values.

This may be a ref­er­ence that both ages and loc­ates me but in one-day crick­et the pur­pose of the first 90 overs is simply to set the con­di­tions for the final ten. It’s the same for the first four days of a test match. It grounds and defines the final drama and, while we all hope that there is some enter­tain­ment value to be had from that, it’s a bonus.

This is also the pur­pose of Kevin Costner’s Horizon: An American Saga – Chapter 1, which is almost three hours of gor­geous scene set­ting, the grand serenity of Monument Valley in Utah reg­u­larly shaken up by viol­ent human drama over the future of the frontier.

Costner – per­haps inspired or chal­lenged by his par­ti­cip­a­tion in Taylor Sheridan’s epic Yellowstone fran­chise – has mapped out four fea­ture films worth of story. Sadly, for those of us that enjoyed this first instal­ment, the rest are unlikely to be seen in cinemas (or pos­sibly at all in the case of parts three and four).

The film intro­duces us to sev­er­al con­ver­ging storylines fea­tur­ing mul­tiple char­ac­ters, some of whom just dis­ap­pear (which is a little bit more like life than most films if we’re honest).

The con­tent below was ori­gin­ally paywalled.

Costner’s visu­al storytelling is strong. Unlike the film below, he doesn’t need to spell everything out for us mul­tiple times, but we get the sense of who every­one is and why they are headed to the recently estab­lished, but fra­gile, Arizona town­ship of Horizon.

Like Wellington’s own colo­ni­al pro­ject, hun­dreds of plots are sold to people des­per­ate for a new life in a new coun­try by someone who had nev­er been there. And, like Wellington, the “indi­gen­ous” don’t take kindly to this intrusion.

Costner under­stands that one of the keys to a Western is that the land­scape dwarfs all the humans in it which is an effect that will be far less power­ful when we end up watch­ing the next part on TV.

I read an art­icle the oth­er day that fea­tured a pro­du­cer on sev­er­al recent stream­ing shows point­ing out that they were being con­sciously asked to make “second-screen” con­tent. By that they meant, tele­vi­sion that was going to be con­sumed mostly by people doing some­thing else, much like my moth­er would do the iron­ing in front of the TV back in the day.

Successful second-screen mater­i­al has to assume that people aren’t listen­ing prop­erly at the same time as they aren’t watch­ing prop­erly, so stor­ies have to repeat key plot points sev­er­al times to ensure that they land. It’s as if everything now is like the scenes before and after the cred­its in a real­ity home renov­a­tion show – here’s what’s com­ing next, here’s what you’ve just seen!

This describes Young Woman and the Sea to a fault, noth­ing is worth say­ing that can’t be said more than half a dozen times – ‘the shal­lows, beware of the shal­lows, we can’t fol­low you into the shallows!’

Other than that frus­tra­tion, it’s an uplift­ing (true-ish) story. Trudy Ederle (Daisy Ridley) is a fiercely com­pet­it­ive swim­mer from a German immig­rant New York fam­ily. Frustrated by the lack of oppor­tun­ity and sup­port, she decides to become the first woman to swim the English Channel.

The film comes to life when it – like Ederle her­self did on the cross­ing – takes an unex­pec­ted 90-degree turn and intro­duces a new coach, Bill Burgess played by Stephen Graham. The work­ing class show­man replaces the vil­lain of the piece, Christopher Eccleston’s Jabez Wolffe, whose lack of belief in Ederle mani­fests itself in sabotage.

If you liked Clooney’s The Boys in the Boat from earli­er this year (and we did), you’ll enjoy this sport­ing overcoming-the-odds story set in a sim­il­ar era.