Ian Thomas Malone

Monday

15

June 2026

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COMMENTS

Classic Film: Paris is Burning

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One of the harder parts about growing older as an LGBTQ person is the realization that the better tomorrow that was promised isn’t exactly coming. The 2015 Supreme Court decision Obergefell v. Hodges was supposed to turn the page on all the homophobic rhetoric that basks in this nation’s culture. Instead, we got a wave of anti-trans legislation and lobbying to roll back gay marriage that continues to this day.

The 1990 landmark documentary Paris is Burning remains an invaluable resource in the queer liberation movement. Set against the backdrop of New York’s ball culture, the film chronicles a diverse group of performers from a few of the “houses” that serve as found families for those who were rejected by their biological parents. Twenty-five years before the mainstream media treated Caitlyn Jenner’s coming out as a “Book of Genesis” style origin story for an entire group of people, plenty of trans folk found community amongst each other.

Director Jennie Livingston presents an easily accessible portrait of ball culture and its origins. The footage captures the larger-than-life feel of walking the runway, the energy in the room radiating through the screen. As many of the interviewees said, ballroom is all they have.

Many of the subjects had grand aspirations for careers in the arts. While performers like Madonna made millions appropriating dance moves such as voguing from ballroom culture, the originators were stuck on the fringes, a plastic trophy serving as the only real acknowledgement of their achievements. The outside world still has its limits for trans folk, especially women of color, but inside the ballroom, they could be anything.

Livingston’s work is inherently bleak at times, filmed in the middle of the AIDS crisis and centered on one of the most impoverished groups in the nation. That dread doesn’t really come across, even with subjects like Venus Xtravaganza, who was murdered before the conclusion of the documentary, a crime that remains unsolved. Their lives are more challenging than most, in a country hellbent on keeping trans people down, but they still find the joy in life.

The most powerful moment in the film comes from subject Dorian Corey, speaking on the nature of activism. Her statement, “You don’t have to bend the world. I think it’s better to just enjoy it,” is an important thing to keep in mind for plenty of trans people trying to survive in modern America.

It’s hard to wake up in an unjust world. Nobody wants to be told not to fight so hard for a better tomorrow. But tomorrow is coming regardless. The fact that it may not look pretty isn’t an excuse not to go out and find the joy where you can.

There can be a certain frustration watching Paris is Burning 36 years later, watching many of the same realities afflict the LGBTQ community. Those doors that the ballroom queens couldn’t kick down are still inaccessible to all but a handful of people. Progress has been made. AIDS, which took the lives of many of the film’s subjects, is no longer a death sentence.

The visibility question is another point that the world seems unwilling to grapple with. What is the use-value of visibility? Trans people existed in the 80s, as the film eloquently portrays.

America today still acts as if trans people are some new, recent thing. Paris is Burning showed full, vibrant communities, decades ago. The world just didn’t want to listen. A disgusting number of states are passing laws trying to pull the wool over the eyes of their own citizens, trying to pretend like the stuff portrayed in this documentary hasn’t always been around.

Like many of the subjects of the film, today’s LGBTQ community may not live long enough to see true equality obtained. That’s a depressing thought to sit with, until you consider how much progress we have made, how much joy there is to be had, if you’re willing to stand up and stand out in a world that doesn’t necessarily want you around.

Paris is Burning is a timeless reminder to have a good time as civilization crumbles all around us. Trans people may never achieve true liberation. That’s no excuse not to have fun along the way.

Monday

15

June 2026

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Classic Film: Wild at Heart

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The timelessness of The Wizard of Oz is not a particularly complex notion. Judy Garland’s performance as Dorothy is eminently relatable across generations. We all want to feel at home, whether that’s a physical place, or in the arms of a man who talks like he’s doing an Elvis impersonation.

David Lynch’s 1990 film Wild at Heart is an unwieldy homage to one of the crown jewels of cinema. Swapping out for Dorothy and co. are Lula Fortune (Laura Dern) and Sailor Ripley (Nicolas Cage), two young people hopelessly in love. Sailor is sentenced to jail for five years after killing an assailant who attacked them with a knife, hired by Lula’s mother, Marietta (Diane Ladd). The two resume their romance after Sailor gets out, breaking his parole with a road trip to California.

The film finds its Lynchian weirdness on the road, with plenty of surrealistic visuals to keep Lula and Sailor company on the way to California. Not content to see her daughter run off, Marietta sends her boyfriends Johnnie Farragut (Harry Dean Stanton), a private detective, and Marcello Santos (J.E. Freeman), a gangster, after them. To make money for the trip, Sailor links up with unhinged criminal Bobby Peru (Willem Dafoe) for a robbery, one of many questionable decisions he makes along the journey.

Wild at Heart is a beautiful film to look at. The cinematography is top-notch. Lynch is clearly having the time of his life, supplementing the eerie road imagery with spooky visuals of his own. Dern brings an infectious chemistry to Lula, commanding every scene, sometimes with a single facial expression.

Part Wizard of Oz homage, part tribute to soap opera melodramatics, Lynch never really figures out how to tackle his adaptation of Barry Gifford’s novel of the same name. The screenplay is a mess. Dern and Cage both show up to play, but they’re rarely given anything to work with. They carry a few scenes on chemistry alone, but it’s hard to shake the feeling that neither really understands what their director is going for.

Lynch has a lot of interest in the scenery, but he doesn’t explore his characters at all. We learn almost nothing about Lula or Sailor, a dynamic that grows tiresome across the film’s unwieldy 124-minute runtime. Lynch’s preoccupation with violence doesn’t deliver the expected shock value. Often, it just feels like he’s being opaque for the sake of being opaque.

Oddly enough, having done little to earn such dramatic payoff, Lynch largely sticks the landing. The third act has a lot to say about the power of love to cut through life’s endless noise, a fitting dynamic for a film that’s mostly parlor tricks from a man capable of better. He leans on The Wizard of Oz a little too much for any of this to be particularly impressive, but Lynch almost makes up for his work’s inexplicable mundaneness.

Wild at Heart won the Palme d’Or at the 1990 Cannes Film Festival, despite being met with loud boos at its premiere. Maybe those boos came from pearl-clutchers who objected to the film’s graphic violence and sexual content. Maybe they were just very bored.

There is some joy to be had watching the two lovebirds go at it, despite everything that life throws at them. Time demands a lot from us. True love can still win out. It’s never too late to fight for another tomorrow.

Part of what makes David Lynch so iconic is his ability to create such singular worlds. Wild at Heart has a script that was in desperate need of additional work. The end result is such a half-baked experience, especially when compared to the rest of his filmography. Despite all that, even though this movie is not particularly good, Lynch’s effort is hard to get out of your head. Even in failure, he crafted something worth watching.

Monday

1

June 2026

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‘I Love Boosters’ review: capitalism meets its surrealist match

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The past few years have taught a lot of Americans about the levers of capitalism that have exploited the working class since the dawn of time. The idea of hard work being all you need for success is practically the stuff of fairy tales. People have caught on to the reality that billionaires rarely achieve such status by playing by the rules.

Boots Riley’s absurdist crime comedy I Love Boosters takes aim at the business practices of the fashion industry. Corvette (Keke Palmer), Sade (Naomi Ackie), and Mariah (Taylour Paige) are three “boosters,” people who shoplift high-end clothing to resell at a discount on the black market. Living out of a closed-down fast-food chicken restaurant, their favorite target is the Metro Designers chain, owned by Christie Smith (Demi Moore), an idol of Corvette’s.

Christie, an outspoken personality on social media, exploits her workers both domestically and abroad. Metro Designers specializes in monochrome collections, which store employees are expected to purchase for themselves each season when the stores completely rebrand to a new color. Working conditions at her Chinese sweatshop are inhumane. One of the workers, Jianhu (Poppy Liu) started raiding Metro Designers’ shops after her aunt died and her mother got cancer from the sandblasting at Christie’s shops.

Riley’s work reaches new levels of surrealism when the Boosters team up with Jianhu, who is armed with a portable transportation device that’s also capable of deconstruction and situational acceleration, riffing on Marx’s theory of dialectical materialism. The transporter devices are quite amusing, if not a little stifling amidst everything else going on. When it’s not busy diving into heavy Marxism, the narrative makes space for more surface-level critiques in the form of Dr. Jack (Don Cheadle), who runs a classic pyramid scheme called Friends being Friendly.

There is a lot going on in I Love Boosters. Riley’s attention to style is perpetually on display, particularly the set design. Christie’s office, built on an incline, helps set the tone for the film’s lack of subtlety. The score, performed by Tune-Yards, operates on the same wavelength as Riley’s frantic sense of pacing.

The three leading women have a natural sense of chemistry. We don’t learn a ton about any of them as people. Corvette gets the most character development, especially opposite a mysterious man with a pinky ring (LaKeith Stanfield) but Riley is pretty content to let things play out as a fairly standard revenge piece.  Moore and Cheadle showed up to play, while Will Poulter shines in a bit role as one of the store managers. Paige is the real comedic standout, constantly eliciting laughs through Mariah’s antics.

Riley’s worldbuilding is the key to the film’s success. Everything feels lived-in, fostering an inclusive atmosphere for the narrative’s ample humor. The dramatic tension rarely lets up, an exhausting 113-minute runtime that could probably have shaved ten minutes off.

The film wears its anti-capitalist message on its sleeve, but the substance of the story doesn’t go much deeper. There’s too much going on for Riley to really thoroughly explore any of his themes. Cheadle’s storyline doesn’t really receive enough attention to justify its place in the narrative.

Capitalism itself largely relies on people being too overwhelmed to process all of life’s own whiplash. Riley takes a lot of big swings with I Love Boosters. They don’t all land perfectly, but the space he created is so much fun to spend time in. The arts as a whole would be a lot healthier if more artists were given space to work their own magic like Riley.

Friday

22

May 2026

3

COMMENTS

‘The Mandalorian and Grogu’ review: Star Wars has no business being this boring

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Most of us are old enough to remember when a new Star Wars movie was a major cultural event. It’s been seven years since The Rise of Skywalker brought the sequel trilogy to a whimpering conclusion. The past decade has introduced plenty of new Star Wars content, but the franchise as a whole has seemed rudderless for quite a while, a sentiment that certainly applies to its latest entry: The Mandalorian and Grogu.

In his first feature-length outing since 2019’s disastrous The Lion King, Jon Favreau quickly dispels the idea that anyone might have needed to see three seasons of The Mandalorian to watch this film. There is no lore here to digest, absolutely zero need to have seen a single episode of the show that the film is based on, or any Star Wars at all. Anyone with half a brain who understands the rudimentary mechanics of narrative could follow along with this boilerplate offering.

The film follows the titular Mandalorian (Pedro Pascal) as he collects bounties for New Republic colonel Ward (Sigourney Weaver). Ward asks Mando to retrieve Rotta the Hutt (voiced by Jeremy Allen White), who was kidnapped by a crime syndicate. Mando is wary of the Hutts, particularly Rotta’s aunt and uncle, known as The Twins, but agrees to take the bounty after Ward offers him a new ship of the same class as his old Razor Crest.

Favreau follows the narrative beats of a spaghetti Western, a genre that heavily influenced the original Star Wars. There are no galaxy-threatening stakes at play, no Death Star to blow up. Just a good old-fashioned mission, like something you’d find in The Mandalorian TV series.

The limited scope works pretty well in a sense. Recent Star Wars series have been very complex. Ahsoka essentially asked its viewers to watch eleven seasons of the animated The Clone Wars and Rebels to fully understand what was going on.

The action sequences are tight, though the bigger budget doesn’t exactly translate to much on the big screen. This doesn’t really feel like a cinematic Star Wars, but rather an extended episode of The Mandalorian. The CGI is very ugly, particularly with the Hutts. Disney’s fascination with The Volume continues to hamper their filmmaking, causing plenty of repetitive blocking in most sequences.

The reluctance of The Mandalorian to showcase its star without his helmet continues to cause problems. There are almost no humans in this movie, as Weaver gets very little screentime. Mando has almost no one to interact with besides his nonverbal son, a dynamic made weirder by the perpetual presence of Rebels mainstay Garazeb “Zeb” Orrelios (voiced by Steve Blum), who receives almost no introduction or lines, but is clearly valued as a sort of second-in-command to Mando.

There is absolutely zero character development in this film. People can point the finger at franchise fatigue all they want, but the failures of this outing should be properly attributed to Favreau’s complete apathy at the helm. At no point does it ever look like anyone is trying to make something special here.

For all his flaws and inability to write a screenplay, George Lucas brought new ideas to each film. That era of Star Wars is over. Here, there’s nothing new. Nobody grows. The adorable baby doesn’t do anything we haven’t seen before in the TV show.

There isn’t really even a tender father-son moment, either. Just lots of shooting. After a while, Mando doesn’t even seem like a good father anymore. In previous seasons, the shooting was the product of people trying to capture Grogu. Here, Mando is just being reckless, bringing a baby with him on the job.

The 132-minute runtime is insufferable. There’s just not enough going on to sustain the experience past the two-hour mark. Even restricted to voice-only work, Jeremy Allen White sounds bored out of his mind, bringing nothing to Rotta.

The world is full of people who take Star Wars too seriously. At their cores, these movies are for children. But children’s entertainment doesn’t need to be sloppy. Children’s content can have a perspective.

This film has no perspective. This film has nothing to say, not about its characters or the franchise as a whole. This film is solely content being a vessel for more Baby Yoda.

At the end of The Mandalorian’s second season, Grogu was supposed to leave his adoptive father to train with Luke Skywalker. The powers that be at Lucasfilm decided that was a mistake, and reunited the two in the last few episodes of The Book of Boba Fett, a show that was not supposed to be about either character.

Season three felt aimless at times, particularly with regard to its breakout character. Grogu isn’t necessarily the problem in The Mandalorian and Grogu, but it’s also clear that Favreau and Dave Filoni have nothing left to say about their cute little fella.

To be clear, he is cute. Little kids will have a good time at this film, though their attention spans will likely wander at times. The rest of us are bound to be left wondering why Star Wars is content to be this mediocre.

 

Thursday

23

April 2026

0

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Classic Film: Batman & Robin

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Superhero movies have become so ubiquitous that it feels weird to imagine a time thirty years ago, when one film almost took down the whole genre. Warner Bros.’ original Batman series was a landmark moment for the entire industry, proof that the Dark Knight had commercial appeal beyond comic books and the campiness of the Adam West television series from the 60s. After the success of Batman Returns, perhaps the genre’s finest hour, the levers of capitalism demanded a more commercial-friendly caped crusader than Tim Burton’s dark take on the character could provide.

Batman Forever, director Joel Schumacher’s first effort at the helm of the franchise, signaled a pivot toward a take on Gotham that was more appealing to small children, and the toy companies that catered to them. Michael Keaton’s cerebral Bruce Wayne was swapped out for Val Kilmer, while Tommy Lee Jones and Jim Carrey introduced the kind of comedy into the franchise that evoked notes of Adam West and Burt Ward. Schumacher also brought back Batman’s beloved sidekick Robin, a detested figure among filmmakers who only want the most serious, adult Batman possible.

Schumacher’s follow-up tossed any remaining remnants of Burton’s worldbuilding out the window of the Batmobile. Batman & Robin is not the kind of film made for artistic purposes. From the very first action sequence, playing hockey with a diamond on a makeshift rink in the middle of the Gotham museum, one notion is abundantly clear. This movie exists to sell toys.

Batman & Robin is one of the most intimate superhero movies ever made, a soap opera in every sense of the word. At its heart, it’s a love story on three separate levels. Pamela Isley (Uma Thurman) wants to rid the world of its pesky humans who terrorize the environment. Dr. Victor Fries (Arnold Schwarzenegger) wants to save his wife amidst an American healthcare system that doesn’t care about its citizens.

The beating heart of the film is a rivals-to-lovers story between master and apprentice. George Clooney’s take on Bruce Wayne essentially splits the difference between Keaton and Kilmer, the cerebral nature of the former and the pretty boy charm of the latter. Robin (Chris O’Donnell) is not quite his ward, instead embodying the more adult Nightwing version of Dick Grayson. Clooney and O’Donnell are less than ten years apart in age, adding to the melodrama when Bruce tries to instill life lessons upon the kid he later addresses as a brother.

Schumacher, proudly openly gay decades before many in Hollywood considered it normal, injected his signature flamboyant aesthetic into most of his work. The sexual tension between Bruce and Dick is clearly his priority in the movie, dispelling with Batman’s normal detective work in favor of added melodrama. Schumacher covers his tracks in a number of clever ways.

Many of the cinematic Batman adaptations have felt the need to treat Bruce Wayne like James Bond, usually including a love interest who disappears by the next film. Julie Madison (Ella Macpherson), Batman’s very first love interest from back in the 1930s, got the nod for Batman & Robin. Her two scenes leave no impression whatsoever, Bruce Wayne lacking any of the romantic chemistry with Madison that he has with Grayson.

Upon her transformation into Poison Ivy at the hands of Dr. Jason Woodrue (John Glover), himself an apex villain of DC Comics, Isley functions as the perfect beard for Bruce’s love affair with his own ward. Poison Ivy possesses a pheromone dust which makes most of Gotham fall in love with her, including Batman & Robin.

Bruce and Dick have several arguments over the course of the film. At first, the arguments center around the nature of family, Batman still getting used to not being a lone wolf. Alfred (Michael Gough, who, along with Pat Hingle were the only two actors to appear in all four films in the original Batman series). Alfred’s heart lies with the youth, including Grayson and his niece Barbara Wilson (Alicia Silverstone, playing a variation of the character unique to the film).

As the film goes on, Poison Ivy’s pheromones serve as meager cover fire for the film’s obligatory nods to compulsory heterosexuality (also known as comphet). Batman and Robin are clearly in love, Grayson serving as the aging twink desperate for the approval of his mentor, himself conflicted with the reality that being a family means more than adventurous nights out. You have to care about people during the day, too.

Schumacher’s work is light-hearted, doing injustice to the potentially powerful themes of climate change and the shortcomings of the American healthcare system. Neither Poison Ivy nor Mr. Freeze has the same menacing touch as The Penguin, but Thurman and Schwarzenegger showed up to play. Schwarzenegger is the only one well-served by the film’s terrible script, penned by Akira Goldsman, who later won an Oscar for A Beautiful Mind.

People often say that puns are the lowest form of humor. Mr. Freeze puns are genius. Who doesn’t want a lovesick doctor to drop lines like “Revenge is a dish best served cold,” while they’re trying to destroy the planet?

The early 2000s ushered in this era of serious superhero movies that drew parallels to reality. While plenty of competent filmmakers produced great art, these stories come from comic books. They’re supposed to be ridiculous.

You know what’s actually far-fetched? Bruce Wayne is a billionaire who spends his time running around on rooftops, spending all his money on fancy gadgets, and making his butler stay up all night watching the Batcave. This is not an ethical man, but rather, a rogue billionaire who treats Gotham like his own personal playground.

Bruce could have helped the environment. He could have invested money in curing the MacGregor’s syndrome that affected Nora Fries, and later Alfred. He doesn’t do that, because he doesn’t actually care. Who is the real villain?

Schumacher caught a lot of flak for the film’s heavy commercialization. Is that really his fault? Warner Bros. gave him a mandate. He followed through, not always cooperatively either.

At one point, Poison Ivy remarks that she’s not a fighter, which is why her action figures come with Bane (Robert Swenson). This film knows exactly what it is: a product. Capitalism slowly eroded the perfect Batman crafted by Tim Burton, but Schumacher wasn’t content to let it destroy his work’s ample artistic merit.

The film does have its issues. Clooney’s lack of confidence ends up being an asset, another layer to Batman’s love story with Robin. The screenplay is genuinely horrible. The film fell into the trap of prioritizing new heroes at the expense of developing its existing characters, an issue that still plagues the genre to this day. There is a motorcycle race that serves no purpose other than to introduce Coolio into the DC universe.

Maybe Clooney wasn’t having so much fun trying not to sleep with his ward. Thurman and Schwarzenegger are clearly having the time of their lives. Thurman’s performance in particular is as infectious as Poison Ivy’s pheromones. She’s far more cartoonish than Catwoman, but just as commanding in each scene that she’s in.

Some people want a very serious Batman. That doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with Mr. Freeze yelling at his henchmen for falling to sing along to music from The Year Without a Santa Claus. Villains are allowed to have fun too, a reality that plenty of subsequent films forgot about.

Batman & Robin is one of the gayest mainstream blockbusters ever released. Schumacher gave us nipples on the Batsuit, and close-ups on codpieces that nobody knew we needed. People laughed, sure, but this film dared to do something different.

Plenty of gay relationships are just as messy as Batman & Robin, but there’s beauty in chaos. Part of the queer experience is learning to let people in. You can’t save a city by yourself. Schumacher’s homoerotic toy commercial is a messy ride, but there’s so much joy to be had in this masterpiece of camp. So, it isn’t very serious. Who cares?

Tuesday

14

April 2026

0

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Classic Film: To Live and Die in L.A.

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The city of Los Angeles is in a tumultuous era for its marquee industry. As film studios gobble each other up, and bureaucratic red tape makes it harder than ever to film in the entertainment capital of the world, it can be easy to forget the vibrancy that the city brings to each production that chooses to call it home. The city itself is essentially the main character of the 1985 classic To Live and Die in L.A.

Richard Chance (William Petersen) and Jimmy Hart (Michael Greene) are Secret Service agents assigned to a counterfeiting case in Los Angeles after foiling a terrorist plot to assassinate President Reagan. Hart, imminently approaching retirement, spends his last few days on the job locating the counterfeiter’s warehouse, run by Rick Masters (Willem Dafoe). Hart is killed after discovering the operation, with Chance vowing to avenge his mentor.

Now working with John Vukovich (John Pankow), Chance vows to take down the counterfeiting ring and avenge his partner, regardless of ethical lines. Vukovich takes umbrage with Chance’s unethical approach to the case, including his relationship with Ruth (Darlane Fluegel), a convict turned informant who’s out on parole. Chance frequently extorts Ruth by threatening to send her back to prison, the first of many laws he tramples over in his pursuit of Masters.

Director William Friedkin was no stranger to the genre by 1985, having previously directed The French Connection, one of the gold standards of American thrillers. To Live and Die in L.A. is a masterclass of dramatic tension. Friedkin never lets up across the 116-minute runtime, an immaculately paced fever dream set against the dreamy backdrop of the city and Wang Chung’s spectacular score.

Friedkin’s triumph comes from an extended car chase, one of the best in film history. To Live and Die in L.A. is a rare case of style mattering more than substance. Petersen does an admirable job in the lead role. Friedkin isn’t very interested in exploring Chance as a person, but Petersen more than sells his determination to avenge his friend.

Chance’s tenuous relationship with Vukovich is a classic tale of Los Angeles, a city full of transplants. Many come to the West Coast with no connections, and little more than a suitcase. LA is the kind of place that rewards those with an open heart and a scrappy, endless drive. Maybe it’s the sunshine, or the abandoned warehouses everywhere, but LA is the kind of city where you can make a new best friend in the course of an afternoon.

LA is also the kind of place where an artist can parlay their talents into a successful counterfeiting operation. Masters is the film’s most interesting character. Dafoe beautifully plays into Rick’s mystique. You can’t always tell if he wants to kill Chance, or sleep with him. Maybe both, another classic tale of the city.

To Live and Die in L.A. is kind of a mess. Friedkin threw character development out of the window, but managed to sustain his narrative for almost two hours on vibes, beautiful people, and Wang Chung. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but with car chases like this, who’s really thinking about anything?

Friday

10

April 2026

0

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Classic Film: Brink!

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A cornerstone of Gen-X culture was the fear of “selling out.” Joy was not tied to the clutches of capitalism. You made art for the love of the game, not for profit. Nirvana, the standard-bearers of the entire generation, famously kept their ticket prices low, criticizing the artists who exploited their fans.

That kind of anti-profit mindset drives the narrative of the 1996 Disney Channel Original Movie Brink!, a loose adaptation of the 1865 Dutch children’s novel Hans Brinker, or the Silver Skates. Andy “Brink” Brinker (Eric von Detten) is a young high school student who skates strictly for fun. His friend group is known as the “Soul-Skaters,” eschewing monetary gain in favor of their love of the game.

A rival group of high schoolers skate for Team X-Bladz, which pays them a salary, along free with gear and promotional opportunities. Team X-Bladz is led by Val (Sam Horrigan), a vicious bully unafraid to cheat to achieve his objectives. Val sees his teammates as a commodity, victory his only lodestar.

The Brinker household is put under financial strain when Andy’s father, Ralph (David Graf), suffers an injury at work. With his father’s disability pay coming to an end, and an uncertain future at his construction job, Andy joins Team X-Bladz, leaving his friends out to dry at the upcoming Invitational. Andy leaves everyone in the dark, including his father, who forbade him to try out for Team X-Bladz, instead finding employment for his son at the local dog groomer, Pup ‘N Suds.

Brink! is a decidedly anti-capitalist narrative that goes to great lengths to avoid engaging with the financial reality of the Brinker family, undercutting the film’s valuable warnings to future influencer generations. Andy is a phenomenal skater. Even Val, the stereotypical high school bully, acknowledges the raw talent of his carefree rival.

The real antagonist in Brink! is the American healthcare system. Director Greg Beeman covers for capitalism in several peculiar ways. Val’s villainy is amped up to the point of absurdity. Jimmy (Geoffrey Blake), the owner of Team X-Bladz, is not a bad dude at all. He’s actually quite pleasant in all of his interactions with Andy. His only real crime is putting control of his expensive team in the hands of a vicious high school student.

The other members of Team X-Bladz are also not bad people. Boomer (Walter Emmanuel Jones, an original Power Ranger) is quite nice to the Soul-Skaters. The film tries hard to promote an anti-capitalist message, at odds with the reality that Val, who possesses a tenuous grasp on the levers of Team X-Bladz, is the film’s only bad guy.

The film also bends over backwards to craft a scenario that makes the perpetually affable Brink into a bad guy. Andy was trying to do the right thing by helping his father out. His main crime was lying to his friends, particularly defecting to a rival team ahead of the Invitational, itself a precursor to the Championship (neither tournament has any name more specific than that).

The narrative loses a bit of steam when Andy’s lies catch up to him. His friends shun him, even after he explains his parents’ financial situation. To them, refusing sponsorships was something they all did together, because money would dilute their enjoyment of the sport.

The film’s through line boils down to “Skating is what we do. It’s not who we are.” Brink achieved this revelation after his father confessed to having put too much of his own identity into his job. The message is clear. Work and play are separate.

In a fairy tale world, this theme might make some sense. The problem is that film doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Even in 1998, Brink! is dealing with broader safety-net issues that still plague America to this day.

The “Soul-Skaters” are supposed to be the good guys. But Jimmy and his Team X-Bladz aren’t really villains besides Val. Andy’s friends on the other hand, refuse to forgive Andy until he rejects his opportunity for financial gain. Andy is the best skater among them, presented with a real chance to help benefit his family. His real friends stood in the way of that, a theme endorsed by the film’s narrative.

Gen-X hated selling out. Gen-X can also afford homes. The idea of suppressing monetizable skills in favor of some purity test is fine in the abstract.

But Brink! is a film made by Gen-X for predominantly millennial audiences. Few millennials have the same safety nets that were already disappearing in the 90s. The influencer era has opened so many doors for artists and athletes to monetize their talents.

Is that really so wrong? Brink! is a fun film. Von Detten has a certain charm that makes him easy to root for. This film tackles big themes, among the more ambitious efforts of the 90s DCOM output.

Andy Brink has a lot of integrity. Brink! as a film leaves a lot to be desired on that front. High school is a period where children start to grow up. Capitalism is an unavoidable aspect of reality. Unfortunately, for many, so is selling out. Gen-X might think that’s lame, but people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones at future generations, most of whom can’t afford any house at all.

 

Monday

6

April 2026

0

COMMENTS

‘The Drama’ review: Zendaya and Pattinson salvage a charming, underwhelming romcom

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Society has a weird way of selectively clutching its pearls regarding morality. We’ve celebrated bad people for years, villains we love to hate. But social issues, like gun violence and abortion, exist in this space, where people second-guess the suitability of the subject matter for artistic purposes.

The Drama is a film that basks in the taboo nature of its material. Charlie (Robert Pattinson) is a British museum curator living in Boston. He notices Emma (Zendaya) reading a book. Rather than engage her in a normal conversation, Charlie lies about having read the book.

The narrative takes a time jump to right before Charlie and Emma’s wedding. At a wine tasting that seemed a little too close to the wedding, the two get drunk with their best man and maid of honor, each sharing the worst thing they’d ever done. The relatively harmless crude game took a turn when Emma revealed that as a child, she’d planned and almost carried out a school shooting.

Director Kristopher Borgli is clearly having the time of his life exploring the messy nature of love, set against the backdrop of the most heinous hypothetical many could think up. Plenty are familiar with the concept of “love makes you do crazy things,” but that whole dynamic takes on a different meaning when love is making you forgive crazy things. The narrative essentially exists in a level deeper than that, as the entire case against Emma amounts to a thought crime, something she came close enough to achieving that she became deaf in one ear from rifle practice, but not actually something she went through.

Charlie, on the other hand, has more tangible deficiencies. He’s a liar. His friends who are judgmental of Emma have also done bad things in their lives. The Drama works best as a narrative when it allows itself to explore the inherent messiness in watching not great people judge someone who is probably a psychopath.

Zendaya brings such a quiet intensity to Emma that really sells the whole experience. Her performance highlights Emma’s vulnerabilities that draw you in, even if you don’t trust her in the slightest. Charlie’s infatuation with her, and his reluctance to cut her from his life, make perfect sense.

In Zendaya, Borgli found an actress capable of eliciting all the nuance from Emma needed to make everything work. His screenplay and narrative choices betray a lack of confidence. Early on, Emma reveals that Charlie was her first real crush, having met him at the age of 28, a sequence clearly meant to convey a personality disorder.

Frequently throughout the film, we see a younger Emma (Jordyn Curet), sometimes alongside Charlie. We see some of Emma’s motivations, lonlieness and a desire to belong, not dissimilar from alt-right fare centered on the manosphere. At times, it feels like Borgli is simply throwing stuff out into the ether as possible explanations for Emma’s character rather than exploring her through the mechanics of the material itself.

Emma’s revelation consumes the whole film, a layered thought experiment that isn’t explored with nearly the same depth with which it was created. There’s a lot of fun to be had in watching Charlie wrestle with his emotions. Pattinson is perfect for the way, infectiously charming while wielding the kind of ego necessary to entertain the thought of staying with Emma.

We see Charlie’s personality deficiencies mostly through the prism of his relationship to Emma. We don’t learn much about Charlie himself. Borgli shows a bit of Charlie and Emma’s work lives to get a glimpse of who they are outside of their relationship, but the scenes border a bit on filler. These characters are fun to watch, but they’re not really convincing people.

Borgli also has nothing interesting to say about school shootings, somehow completely removing politics from potentially the most politically charged topic in the country. At one point, Charlie wonders how many other Americans think about mass shootings, considering how many we have each week. This observation would be more compelling if it went anywhere.

Zendaya and Pattinson have enough chemistry to buoy the experience, but The Drama lacks depth. This is a really interesting subject, explored solely at the surface level. As a filmmaker, Borgli has a lot of impressive technical skills and a firm grasp on the pacing of his work. The 105-minute runtime flies by.

School shootings are a part of American life. There is no reason we shouldn’t be able to tackle this subject in our art, even if some people find that notion gauche. Art is not supposed to be comfortable.

But the best art also has a perspective. The Drama has a really engaging hook. It has brilliant lead performances by two actors at the top of their games. If only it had something more interesting to say.

Friday

3

April 2026

1

COMMENTS

‘The Super Mario Galaxy Movie’ review: another bucket of slop for your feed trough

Written by , Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

For all the talk of the difficulties of landing a perfect sequel, the formula offers a few key advantages. Sequels don’t have to dedicate chunks of their runtimes to establishing their characters. We know that more isn’t always better, but with a franchise like Mario, it really should be. There’s certainly no shortage of subject material to adapt.

The Super Mario Galaxy Movie dives right into its plot. Princess Rosalina (Brie Larson) raises the Lumas, a cute starry species, on the Comet Observatory, having long ago sent her sister Peach (Anna Taylor-Joy) to the Mushroom Kingdom. Rosalina is captured by Bowser Jr. (Benny Safdie), seeking to carry on his father’s legacy.

The film largely follows Peach’s efforts to rescue her sister, while Mario (Chris Pratt), Luigi (Charlie Day), and newcomer Yoshi (Donald Glover) guard the Mushroom Kingdom back home, including their Bowser (Jack Black), still their prisoner after the events of the first film. There are some cursory thoughts given to things like character development, quickly abandoned. The narrative rarely lets up the gas, even to properly introduce the newcomers.

Directors Aaron Horvath and Michael Jelenic have no ambitions for their work beyond crafting a feature-length cutscene, a gorgeous film with absolutely zero substance. It’s almost astonishing to see how little effort was put into telling a story. The brisk 98-minute runtime has little room for an overstuffed cast or anything at all besides constant action sequences.

The Super Mario Galaxy Movie falls into the same trap as many recent franchise sequels of prioritizing new characters at the expense of the titular hero. Mario is barely a factor in his own movie. There isn’t a single scene where Chris Pratt makes an impression as the leading character of the film.

There is a certain temptation to say that Peach is actually the star of the movie, given her added screentime. The relationship between Peach and Rosalina is certainly the emotional anchor, and the banter between Peach and Toad (Keegan-Michael Key) is a lot of fun. The film doesn’t really have a star, constantly bouncing back and forth between its characters and its action sequences, rarely taking a moment to breathe.

The lack of downtime really kills the humor. Day, Key, and Black were all highlights of the first film, the latter clearly having the time of his life as Bowser. Black is completely wasted, while Day and Key are given little to do. Worst of all, Donald Glover is given practically nothing to work with for Yoshi. They’re all just kind of there.

The film does have a lot of easter eggs. Longtime Mario fans will be impressed with the way the throwbacks were woven into the action, but that dynamic begs the broader question. Why wasn’t such care taken toward the rudimentary fundamentals of this story? Why is this such an empty experience?

The answer lies in the bread and butter of filmmaking. We are given no reason to care about Mario. The only effort made to make us care about Peach comes from tugging at the emotional heartstrings of a sibling relationship, not from work put into the screenplay. The action is quite good. Once again, Horvath and Jelenic have shown us that they know how to adapt video gameplay, a feat that might be impressive to anyone who hasn’t seen one of those epic Super Smash Bros. openings. They’re really, really good at the easiest part of this whole experience.

The storytelling is pure slop. To call it paint-by-numbers would be insulting to the brainpower required to count. The Rosalina rescue mission is lazy and predictable, just like the whole experience, which is actually pretty frustrating if you’ve ever played a Mario game, which almost always has that one level that drives you crazy. Unlike this nonsense, those games have identities.

That level for these movies appears to be character development. The Super Mario Galaxy movie has some entertainment value from the nature of the spectacle, but it’s a stunningly empty experience. Mario’s source material is a video game. That’s no excuse for his exceedingly lazy characterization over the past two films.

Mario games have never forgotten that great gameplay doesn’t have to come at the expense of great art. Super Mario Galaxy is one of the greatest games of the 21st century. If only this movie had any ambitions beyond replacement-level content for young children with poor attention spans.

Tuesday

31

March 2026

0

COMMENTS

The Easter Bunny Is Comin’ to Town

Written by , Posted in Podcast

We are back in the Rankin/Bass cinematic universe for their only stop-motion Easter special. A loose sequel to Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town, the Easter version is pretty much running on fumes right from the start.

Did you ever wonder why we eat jelly beans and wear nice clothes for Easter? Have you ever stopped to appreciate a hard-boiled egg? If so, you might want to check out this complete mess of a holiday narrative.

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