Pop Culture Archives - Page 21 of 56

Wednesday

27

January 2021

1

COMMENTS

The Lady and the Dale provides a riveting perspective of a trans pioneer

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Pop Culture, TV Reviews

Courtesy of HBO

Trans people often have to deal with people claiming that the trans identity is some sort of “new” phenomenon, despite all the history to the contrary. The life of G. Elizabeth Carmichael is a pretty wild story even before you take her gender identity into consideration. The new HBO four-part documentary The Lady and the Dale offers a wide-ranging portrait of a colorful American life.

True to its title, the series largely splits its attention between Carmichael and the Dale, a three-wheel automobile designed to be the flagship offering for Carmichael’s Twentieth Century Motor Car Corporation, which fizzled out in the late 1970s amid criminal fraud charges for Carmichael. The life of Carmichael and the Dale itself would make for fascinating documentaries in their own right, though co-directors Nick Cammilleri and Zackary Drucker do an excellent job weaving the many strands of their story through the four episodes.

Carmichael, a skilled con artist from an early age, makes for a fascinating subject. Though Liz died in 2004, interviews with her family, as well as archival audio tapes provide a thorough examination of her as a person. Carmichael is a complicated figure, a loving mother and a force of nature in the business world, flying a bit too close to the sun with some of her ambitions.

The series uses extensive cut-out animation to liven up some of the archival footage. This approach makes the experience a bit more colorful, while also adding to the emotional resonance of the material. The pacing is quite exceptional, a highly-bingeable experience that leaves you hungry for more at the end of each episode.

Trans people are frequently accused of deception by our very existence. For Liz, a trans woman, this dynamic is complicated by the fact that she was a literal con artist. Her story, especially her prosecution, exposes some of the ways that marginalized people are treated differently both by the justice system and the public at large. Cammilleri and Drucker spend a lot of time on the media reception to the case, including some fascinating interviews with some of the newscasters who worked on the story.

Popular culture is filled with con artists like Jordan Belfort, celebrated by many for their bombastic greed. Shows like Billions and Succession revel in their protagonists’ abilities to game the system. People like Liz Carmichael get treated differently, not necessarily because of the particulars of their crimes, but because of who they are as people.

Which isn’t to say that Liz Carmichael was actually a hero or that she didn’t deserve to be prosecuted for violating securities law among plenty of other offenses. Liz Carmichael did bad things, but The Lady and the Dale isn’t concerned with judgement, providing testimony from her relatives and former employees that paint a much fuller picture of the woman.

In her own way, Liz was a trailblazer. Trans people still face rampant employment discrimination. To see a woman like her take on the big auto companies can give inspiration to anyone looking to carve out their own mark on the world. For too long, women have been told we can’t succeed in a men’s world. Much of Liz’s problems were her of her own making, but she had some impressive achievements. Above all else, Liz lived her life on her own terms.

The Lady and the Dale thoroughly explores a complicated figure in trans history, a fascinating glimpse at a rebel who dared to dream big. One may not necessarily aspire to be like Liz, except in the courage she exhibited to live her truth and ask for more. Being out can be hard enough sometimes. To remove the weights of discrimination will hopefully create a world where more trans people can wield the power that Liz held, if only for a moment.

Wednesday

27

January 2021

0

COMMENTS

Zackary Drucker, director of The Lady and the Dale

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Pop Culture

We are so excited to welcome trans icon Zackary Drucker to the show to talk about her fascinating new HBO documentary series The Lady the Dale. The series dives into the complicated life of G. Elizabeth Carmichael, a trans woman whose Twentieth Century Motor Car Corporation created the three wheel car known as the Dale. Zackary & Ian discuss Liz’s life and legacy and the ways the world responded to her gender identity at the time.

The Lady and the Dale premieres on HBO on January 31st.

Ian’s review of the series: https://ianthomasmalone.com/2021/01/the-lady-and-the-dale-provides-a-riveting-perspective-of-a-trans-pioneer/

Film poster courtesy of HBO. Headshot courtesy of Zackary Drucker.

Monday

25

January 2021

1

COMMENTS

Haymaker is a worthy entry into the trans film canon

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

Courtesy of Gravitas Ventures

The last few years have exponentially increased transgender visibility across film and television. Equality requires a bit more than merely being “seen.” Equality requires equity. Trans people need to have more than just a place in the room to stand, we need a seat at the table.

Haymaker follows Nick (Nick Sasso, who also directed the film and wrote the screenplay), a retired Muay Thai fighter, who’s a bit aloof trying to figure out what comes next in his life. Nick is calm and strong, a natural fit for the position of bodyguard, which comes his way via Nomi (Nomi Ruiz), a trans singer in need of a little muscle. The film mostly follows Nick and Nomi as they travel across the globe, developing feelings for one another which clash a bit with Nick’s ambitions to return to the ring.

As a film, Haymaker constantly works to juggle the dual narratives of Nick and Nomi across its eighty-three-minute runtime. Sasso is a capable director, making the most out of what’s clearly a limited budget. With filming locations in New York, Los Angeles, Greece, Mexico, and Thailand, Haymaker works hard to set itself apart from other indie productions.

Sasso is a capable actor, aiming to be more than a stock figure that the fighting genre often uses. As a character, Nick often functions in more of a reactionary capacity than as a driving force, an intriguing dynamic for the point-of-view character. Sasso’s chemistry with Ruiz works well, forgiving the more muddled aspects of his hero’s journey. His writing can be a bit choppy, but there are a handful of scenes that showcase his drive as a storyteller.

Ruiz largely carries the film on the sheer force of her energy. Nomi is pretty absurd character with seemingly boundless wealth, an aspect of the narrative that often feels out of place with the film’s indie production values. There’s something rather refreshing about the film’s outlandish presentation, giving a trans performer a rare opportunity to wield real power on screen.

Haymaker is presented more from Nick’s point of view, but Ruiz is more often than not the main driver in the film, possessing a palpable degree of confidence. It’s a silly romance at times, albeit the kind that trans people are rarely allowed to have on screen. There’s practically no transphobia in the narrative, another refreshing aspect that’s too often sorely missing from trans stories.

Sasso put together an ambitious film, one that consistently strives to be more than its budget would allow. Muay Thai, largely reserved for the third act, doesn’t play as big a role as the film description suggests. Haymaker is a satisfying journey, one that trans people will particularly enjoy.

Haymaker is in theaters, VOD, and Digital on January 29th

Monday

25

January 2021

0

COMMENTS

WandaVision isn’t designed to meet expectations

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Pop Culture, Star Wars, TV Reviews

Courtesy of Disney

WandaVision ushers in a new era for the MCU on the small screen. While Marvel Television only delivered peanuts on its promises of a shared continuity, Marvel Studios has brought the gravitas required to create a real sense of connectivity to its storytelling, largely in the form of its two leads. The Scarlet Witch and Vision hardly got much of a chance to shine across a handful of films that had many other heroes to entertain itself with.

The series largely succeeds on the chemistry of Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Bettany, perpetually eager to act out WandaVision’s many tributes to classic American sitcoms. There are smiles to be had on everyone’s faces, though the audience knows the idyllic suburb is hardly what it seems. Sparking nodes of Marvel Comics, “House of M” and “Decimation” arcs, the show offers a slow burn that gradually hints at what lies ahead in the MCU’s post-Avengers: Endgame world.

WandaVision embraces MCU mastermind Kevin Feige’s key strategy of gradual plotting, having fun in the present while rarely losing sight of what’s eventually to come. Supporting players Kathryn Hahn, Teyonah Harris and David Payton help paint the portrait of a world that sparks curiosity that its twenty-two minute episode runtimes can hardly satisfy.

To some extent, it’s a good thing that WandaVision leaves the audience wanting more by the time the credits roll. There is also the reality that this is the first meaningful new piece of MCU content since 2019’s Spider-Man: Far From Home (not counting Marvel Television’s Helstrom, which served as an uninspired curtain call for the company), the longest stretch in franchise history. It’s a burden that shouldn’t be WandaVision’s to bear, the first glimpse of how the future will look for Marvel on Disney+.

The reliance on humor based in nostalgia for sitcoms that aired more than fifty years ago is bound to rub some people the wrong way. As a company, Disney has increasingly relied on nostalgia as a selling point for much of its cinematic portfolio, including their live action remakes and the Star Wars sequels, which often felt like remakes themselves. People are starved for new Marvel content, only to be presented with references to pieces of Americana that their grandparents grew up with.

Television is a medium that tends to save its biggest bangs for its premieres and finales. WandaVision is presented as event television, only to mostly spend its time mirroring more conventional entries in the form. This formula would almost certainly play better if the audience was treated to a traditional twenty-two episode season that used to be the norm. The fact that most of the audience has waited years to learn the fate of Vision after his Avengers: Infinity War demise doesn’t exactly do much to temper expectations.

WandaVision is solid television, albeit not the kind of fare that’s well designed to live up to unsustainable hype. The Mandalorian is really, really good at producing cinematic-quality storytelling in practically every episode. WandaVision sits in the same category as a standard-bearer for a top-tier streaming service, lacking the sense of mandate to be the MCU’s flagship television offering.

Whether that’s fair or not is kind of beside the point. Olsen and Bettany are fun to watch no matter the circumstances or the state of the MCU’s broader portfolio. There’s a natural sense of urgency to want something to happen, but it’s hard to dwell on that too long when the present put in front us manages to put a smile on one’s face each and every week. Maybe WandaVision will overstay its welcome down the road, but for now, the show is still a delight.

Sunday

24

January 2021

0

COMMENTS

A Woman’s Work squanders its runtime with a surface level look at a complex issue

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

Courtesy of 1091 Pictures

It is no secret that the NFL is a big greedy leviathan, offering meager wages to the countless individuals who work to make the games happen at the parks across the country. There is an extra sense of disgusting robbery when it comes to many of the team’s cheerleading squads. While treated essentially as employees, many of the cheerleaders were forced to pay their own expenses while not even receiving a salary for much of the year.

The film A Woman’s Work hones in on two cheerleaders who sought legal recourse for this absurd abuse. Lacy, a cheerleader for the Oakland Raiderettes, and Maria, who danced for the Buffalo Jills, saw their dreams come true upon earning a coveted spot on their respective squads. Dance is in their blood, a dynamic that’s unfortunately at odds with their respective employers, a fact complicated by the fact that the teams would much rather classify them as independent contractors.

Lacy and Maria make for compelling protagonists. Neither appears to have wished for this kind of publicity, much of it negative, especially from alumnae of their organizations. Director Yu Gu spends much of the narrative focusing in on their personal lives. Both women are inspirational figures who had the courage to take on a billion dollar monopoly, bringing about real change in the process.

As far as the documentary goes though, A Women’s Work spends much of its 80 minutes following the two around as they go about their daily lives. Yu uses a lot of what’s essentially b-roll footage of them riding around on bikes, meandering sequences that add little to the narrative. At a certain point, you start to wonder why the film digging deeper into the systemic roots of this inequality.

There are several scenes with Lacy’s female-led legal team that provide a great explainer into her case. Even here, Yu includes some more b-roll footage of the lawyers flipping through legal books in a way that comes across almost like a commercial rather than a documentary. The various strands just don’t connect all that well.

This dynamic is exacerbated when it comes to Maria’s male-dominated legal staff, a much less impressive operation than Lacy’s. When pontificating over the recent 1.4 billion dollar sale of the Bills to new owner, Terry Pegula, one of Maria’s lawyers speculates as to the percentage of value that the Buffalo Jills added to the equation. He starts off at 1% before upping it to 5% and finally arriving at 10% as a suggested added value that the cheerleaders bring.

Following this logic uncritically, the film sort of accepts the premise that the Buffalo Jills may in fact possess a worth up to $1,400,000,000. The settlement that the Oakland Raiderettes received ended up being a little over $1,250,000, split 90 ways, a very small fraction of a very small fraction of that sum. That kind of disconnect encapsulates one of the biggest problems for the film as a whole, namely its emphasis on personality over the substance of the case at hand.

A Woman’s Work has a powerful story, but the film rarely tries to dig deeper than the obvious nature of the injustice. There are sequences where Yu shows the other side of the equation, namely former cheerleaders who see the lawsuits as a threat to their continued existence. This is a complex situation that the film rarely tries to engage with on a substantive level.

The NFL cheated a lot of women out of fair wages, on top of forcing them to essentially pay to be part of the team’s cheerleading squads. The whole situation is so disgusting and outrageous, a sentiment that can be arrived at without watching an eighty-minute-long feature. A Woman’s Work doesn’t do much to add to the blatantly obvious conclusion that any reasonable person would arrive at.

Tuesday

19

January 2021

0

COMMENTS

Two of Us succeeds on the strength of its lead performances

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

Courtesy of Magnolia Pictures

The closet is a lonely place for LGBTQ people. An even lonelier place for couples, especially when one partner wants the other to break free from its artificial confines. Two of Us (original title: Deux), France’s official selection for Best International Feature Film for the upcoming Academy Awards, centers its narrative around the restraints that the closet imposes on an elderly lesbian couple.

Nina (Barbara Sukowa) and Madeline (Martine Chevallier) are looking forward to retirement in Rome, leaving behind a somewhat bad neighborhood in France. Hindering their progress is Madeline’s reluctance to come out to her kids, long after the death of her husband. The plans are further put into jeopardy when Madeline has an accident that renders her unable to speak. Nina is forced to watch her lover cared for from an uncomfortable distance across the hall, desperate to be the primary caregiver.

Making his directorial debut, Filippo Meneghetti leans heavily on his two leads to carry the narrative. Sukowa and Chevallier have a natural sense of chemistry. Chevallier does a fabulous job communicating emotion through facial expressions and gestures. Sukowa tears at the heartstrings with Nina’s desperation, a deeply powerful performance.

The story does leave a bit to be desired, a regressive premise that relies too much on homophobia in the modern era to be fully satisfying for LGBTQ audiences. Though Nina and Madeline are shown to have known each other for decades, the exact specifics of their relationship are far more muddled. That sense of uncertainty makes it much harder to understand how their relationship could be kept a secret from Madeline’s children, who live nearby.

Meneghetti finds success in his ability to capture the essence of a romance running on borrowed time. Love does not conquer all. There are plenty of external factors ready to sabotage anyone’s “happily ever after.”

Nina’s perseverance and creativity in the face of constant roadblocks is quite inspiring. Some of her antics are a bit cartoonish in nature, something you might find in a sitcom. Sukowa gives such an exuberant performance that you can’t help but root for her to achieve something that the circumstances could call a success.

In many ways, Two of Us might have worked better as a period piece, giving Meneghetti’s over-reliance on homophobia some better cover. This film has little to say about gay relationships, but it does make for a compelling love story Nina and Madeline belong together. With that notion so prevalent, it becomes a bit easier to forgive some of Meneghetti’s more foolish antics.

Sukowa and Chevallier elevate the film’s lazy premise, a powerful romance that shines brighter than the abundant cliches. France is one of the most progressive countries in the world on LGBTQ rights. You would hardly realize that watching Two of Us. Despite that, romances featuring elderly lesbians are quite scarce in film. The strength of the leading performances is more than enough to forgive the film’s shortcomings.

Thursday

7

January 2021

0

COMMENTS

Ham on Rye is an eccentric, contemplative high school narrative

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

High school life is not at all like a John Hughes movie. The “a-ha” moment where everything comes into place just isn’t a good fit for the realities of that time in our lives. Reality is messy, ever-changing, and uncertain.

Tyler Taormina’s Ham on Rye takes an unconventional approach to the high school narrator. The film uses a cast of mostly non-professional actors and a nonlinear plot to capture the waning days of a group’s high school existence. Taormina constantly presents surreal sequences that project almost like an acid trip, as if someone set out to make a movie and forgot about it while leaving the camera rolling.

What works best about Ham on Rye is its keen understanding of cringe. High school is not romantic. High school is awkward. Kids dance in delis because they have nowhere else to go. Young people often want to set out and grab the world by its horns, but in high school there aren’t really a ton of horns to grab.

Too often film sets out to project a deeper meaning onto this communal periods of one’s life. Ham on Rye understands the messy nature of adolescence, capturing this awkward stage at face value with a wide smile on its face. People who peak in high school are thought to be losers. Nobody peaks in Ham on Rye.

There is a certain degree of inaccessibility to the film, perhaps limiting its appeal to diehard cinephiles. If Taormina has a deeper meaning to his film, he sure keeps his cards close. With a runtime of just under 90 minutes, the film hardly overstays its welcome even as the novelty starts to wear off.

Few films capture the essence of high school quite as effectively as Ham on Rye, which refuses to paint this era as anything but awkward and absurd. The cinematography is stunning, often contrasting with the mundane nature of its subjects. That’s okay. Sometimes a piece of garbage on the floor is in fact worth looking at.

Ham on Rye is hardly a film for the masses, but it’s a lovely ride. Plenty of people wish their teenage years were just like a John Hughes movie. Life doesn’t work that way. Basking in its weirdness, Ham on Rye hits the mark better than most.

Tuesday

5

January 2021

1

COMMENTS

The Mandalorian Season 2 Review

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Pop Culture, Star Wars, TV Reviews

Photo courtesy of Lucasfilm

Season two of The Mandalorian began with a fairly daunting task. The show built an enormous amount of goodwill during its freshman effort for crafting a narrative that carried the aura of being far-removed from the rest of Star Wars lore, even if the constant, subtle Easter Eggs tended to suggest otherwise. As the sequel series faltered, The Mandalorian suggested that the future of the franchise rested in standalone storytelling.

All the recent announcements of close to a dozen new Star Wars series throw a wrench in this whole thesis, but it’s clear that The Mandalorian had been inching toward this destination for a long time. The chance to feature series favorites such as Bo-Katan, Boba Fett, and Ahsoka Tano transformed what was once predominantly an episodic meme-factory for the hijinks of an adorable puppet and his adopted father. Season two will be defined as the point where The Mandalorian stopped explicitly being “The Baby Yoda Show,” and not just strictly because the cute little fella finally got a proper name.

The perfectly executed season finale should rightfully spark melancholic feelings toward the change in status quo for The Mandalorian, which now finds itself firmly entrenched in Skywalker lore. Season two featured plenty of episodes defined by their self-contained adventures, from the slaying of a Krayt dragon to the head-scratching detour to ice-spider planet. Individual victories from episode to episode are bound to take a backseat to big mic-drop moments.

The Mandalorian built an enormous amount of goodwill for moments crafted by its own characters. For a man who rarely shows his face, Pedro Pascal brought an impressive depth of emotional range to Din Djarin, subtly setting up the tear-jerking departure of the final episode, where he bucked his traditions and removed his helmet. Those are the kind of set-ups that The Mandalorian excels at, but it’s harder to recreate that dynamic when the complications of decades of fan-nostalgia begin to occupy the same space.

Season two benefited from an untapped reservoir of guest stars, rewarding longtime fans for their dedication in following the animated series, comics, and broader Expanded Universe. Soon there will be other places to find those highs, including The Book of Boba, which will air at the end of this year. The Mandalorian will hardly be the only game in town.

Show creator Jon Favreau improved upon season one in practically every way imaginable. The episodes felt more vital, even as they relied upon their own self-contained adventures. The show eased up on its love of rocky desert planets. Grogu didn’t lean too hard into his status as a walking meme, aside from perhaps the moment where he decided he’d practice the Force by swiping blue macarons. For all the moments in season one that felt like the show was dragging its feet, season two moved the ball forward in practically every episode.

Season two built on the strong foundation of the first while expanding the narrative to define The Mandalorian’s place in Star Wars lore. Favreau accomplished all of this while not losing sight of his two heroes that made all the magic in the first place. A cameo from Star Wars’ original hero may be the most noteworthy thing to come out of the show, but The Mandalorian ensured that the franchise won’t be defined by its first family.

It is weird think that The Mandalorian may have already established its legacy two seasons in. The streaming world it helped established will look very different when the show returns, presumably in 2022. It may be a bit overblown to say that The Mandalorian “saved” Star Wars, a billion dollar entity that can absorb some lackluster installments.

The urge to reach that conclusion comes from a fairly natural point. There may come a day when the show loses itself in endless callbacks, a fate suffered by the sequel trilogy. The Mandalorian is great TV. That’s pretty much the only thing that needs to matter.

Monday

28

December 2020

0

COMMENTS

Soul is a touching film that doesn’t tug too hard on the heartstrings

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

Photo courtesy of Disney

Pixar has a knack for tackling the existential. Most of the themes present in Soul are bound to be foreign to the younger members of the audience who haven’t necessarily had to grapple with grown-ups struggles yet. Many have tried to figure out “the meaning of life,” with varying degrees of success toward a somewhat unanswerable question.

The film follows Joe Gardner (Jamie Foxx), a jazz musician who works as a middle school music teacher to support himself. Teaching full-time presents stability that musicians rarely enjoy, but Joe isn’t quite ready to give up on his true passion. Consumed with the prospects of playing a gig with the popular Dorothea Williams (Angela Bassett), Joe accidentally falls down a manhole, sending him to the “great beyond.”

An effort to cheat death lands him in the realm of pre-existence, where spirits named Jerry mentor young souls before they head off to the world for their own adventures. One soul, 22 (Tina Fey), doesn’t see the point in the great adventure called life. An effort to get to the bottom of this great mystery creates a bit of a Freaky Friday moment, leading to a fun and thoughtful adventure for Joe and 22.

Foxx and Fey have quick chemistry, a rapport designed to carry just about any feature. Pixar’s always-spectacular animation eases the burden on the leads, crafting a delightful narrative that breezes through its 90-minute runtime. Soul has one of the most satisfying third acts of any Pixar feature.

There are morals in the film that have been pretty thoroughly explored by other Disney films. The overall messaging might be a little lost on younger kids, passion being a concept that takes maturity to appreciate. Soul manages to speak to its broad demographics simultaneously, never letting weighty themes drag down its engaging narrative.

Disney loves talking about death, scarring countless children by killing off its protagonists’ parents. For a film that partially takes place in the afterlife, Soul doesn’t really concern itself with death. Instead, the film offers a celebration of life that doesn’t tug too hard on the heartstrings. It’s weird to be moved by a Pixar film that doesn’t really try to make you cry.

Pixar has aimed for more ambitious goals than Soul, but the first-rate nature of its craftmanship ensures that this film belongs in its upper echelon. Soul is a thoroughly satisfying narrative. Sometimes the wheel doesn’t need to be reinvented to make for a worthwhile experience.

Saturday

26

December 2020

1

COMMENTS

Wonder Woman 1984 is a complete mess

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

Superhero franchises often peak with their sophomore installments. Spider-Man 2, X2: X-Men United, Batman Returns, The Dark Knight, and Captain America: The Winter Soldier succeeded at least in part through an understanding of the opportunity that sequels push harder into their respective ethos, without the weight of origin stories. The stage is already set up.

Wonder Woman 1984 never really understands what it wants to do with its title hero. Diana is adrift in the 1980s, still mourning Steve Trevor’s death, decades earlier. Grief is a natural human emotion. Superheroes are supposed to be relatable, but there’s something inherently jarring about the idea that an ageless warrior would spend close to seventy years upset about one man.

The film centers itself in Diana’s professional life, working as an anthropologist in Washington D.C. Diana still masquerades as Wonder Woman, mostly handling small-scale issues like mall crimes, taking great care to destroy any security camera footage that would give her maskless face away. Professionally, she seems to be doing okay, albeit dragging around the baggage of a normal human lifespan’s worth of grief.

Kristen Wiig largely carries the film as Diana’s coworker Barbara Minerva, Wonder Woman’s arch-nemesis Cheetah. Barbara is insecure, desperate to carry herself with half the poise of Diana, a dynamic that forces the viewer to see the sullen title hero as a figure worthy of envy. That lust serves as the catalyst for the whole film, manifested through a stone recovered from a foiled robbery.

The “dreamstone” is the object of intense desire for Maxwell Lord (Pedro Pascal), a made-for-TV businessman armed with a war-chest of Reaganomics cliches and thinly-veiled Donald Trump impressions. Pascal is fun, working great opposite Wiig. Director Patty Jenkins provides plenty of scenes to flesh out Lord beyond his Wall Street caricature.

At a certain point, the scenes fully fleshing out Minerva and Lord become a bit excessive, exacerbated by Jenkins’ uncertainty with regard to Diana. Wonder Woman 1984 belongs less to Wonder Woman as a character than it does to Wonder Woman, its predecessor. This is a 151-minute-long feature designed to help its lead get over the events of the past film, close to seventy years after the fact.

The 80s setting serves no function other than to evoke nostalgia for shopping malls and brightly colored leotards. There is no point where the film tries to justify its time period, increasingly awkward as the narrative lugs around the first film like an anchor weighing the whole experience down. There are too many scenes that don’t serve any broader purpose, which might have been okay if it wasn’t so boring most of the time.

Chris Pine makes for a very good Steve Trevor. This notion should in theory operate independent of the question of whether or not this long-dead love interest should play a major role in a sequel, where he is still very much deceased. Trevor isn’t just out of place here. His presence practically sinks the entire movie.

Worst of all, Jenkins could’ve essentially cut out all of Trevor’s scenes without fundamentally changing the narrative. Such a decision would’ve produced a much more palatable runtime, a sorry state of affairs for a film that pretty much solely relies on its two villains for entertaining moments. Gal Gadot is pretty adrift throughout the whole ordeal, shrugging her shoulders at the notion that this should be her movie.

Wonder Woman is the most iconic female superhero of all time. Jenkins kneecapped her feminist hero by forcing Diana to channel every emotion through the prism of a man. The movie never really decides on a path for Diana, despite a lengthy flashback opener ostensibly designed to set those intentions.

Wonder Woman 1984 is a meandering slog that evokes little other than pity for its title hero. Diana deserves better than this too-often joyless mess of a narrative. One of the most disappointing superhero movies of all time. There is nothing inspirational here.

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