Twin Peaks: The Return to Great Television

Some may wonder why it took a little over 25 years for Twin Peaks to return to television. With television networks attempting to revive/reboot television shows that have barley passed ten years since the airing of their series finales (I'm looking at you CW on your two failed attempts to reboot Charmed) it is a wonder that we didn't get a new Twin Peaks by the turn of the century or at least before Kyle MacLachlan became known as Charlotte's mama's boy fiancé on Sex in the City. Twin Peaks never really stopped breathing thanks to fans acting as doctors with defibrillation paddles, the irony of such a statement when you think about the vital role electricity played in the revival. Whether it be through the prequel film Fire Walk With Me (1992) or the accompanying literary works like The Secret Dossier or Laura's Secret Diary, Twin Peaks never truly left the public sphere of consciousness. Why then did it take to 2017 to show creators David Lynch and Mark Frost to bring back one of television's most coveted treasures? Is it just because Laura Palmer's doppelganger teases so in the original finale by stating: "I'll see you again in 25 years?"

I think not.

Twin Peaks took time to come back for many reasons among them. I believe that television was not in a state of readiness for its triumphant return. When we see how far television has come in the last ten years, let alone since the 1990s, it is no wonder Lynch and his team saw a light of hope for the rebirth of such a beloved television extravaganza. Television is currently at its most diversified state then it has ever been before not only with content and technology but with acting and character arcs as well. People may think it took 25 years for Twin Peaks to prepare for a return, but in actuality, it took television 25 years to prepare for Twin Peaks.

Twin Peaks revolutionized television, not just with its content, but with its construct even more so. A society obsessed with labels and serialization couldn't pinpoint what it was; soap opera, drama, dark comedy, supernatural, police procedural etc. The majority settled on a murder mystery, though I believe that to be a mistake now. While the question everyone was asking themselves was "Who Killed Laura Palmer?" the question that truly fizzed and boiled in Lynch and Frost's craniums was; "Who is Laura Palmer?" Of all the questions this 18-part revival did and didn't answer, and there was plenty of both, trust me. This singular inquiry was given an unquestionable answer.

"Laura is the One." - Log Lady (The Late, Great, Catherine E. Coulson) 

I had been a Twin Peaks fan prior to this summer; I was just unaware of it. What I mean is I am a frequent viewer of shows such as American Horror Story, Lost, Riverdale, Stranger Things, among others. Without having watched a single episode before the summer of 2017, I had been a huge Twin Peaks fan for a majority of my older adolescent life. When a friend of mine was over my house the night of the premiere of the revival he stated "I was always going to get you into this show" and that they did. After the first episode of the revival I was hooked, and I binged and finished the series before the infamous "Part 8" episode of The Return aired. It was a viewing experience unmatched by any other. Binging Twin Peaks in today's age is the ecstasy of artistic voyeurism.

I too found myself, upon initial viewing beguiled by this sad, yet seductive young girl fighting a battle she never asked to be a part of. A trophy to be wielded by the victor of the long-standing battle between good and evil, Laura Palmer was never destined to have a perfect life. She was destined to do what many women do on a daily basis around the globe in their own way, sacrifice her well-being for the sake of others. Laura fought to maintain her identity, even when others attempted to force a different one upon her, as Bob tried before killing her. She would never just be, Daddy's Good Girl or the Town Slut, any more than she would allow an evil, perverse demon to take hold of her body and soul. Laura was not just a victim wrapped in plastic. She was the embodiment of everything Lynch and Frost wanted to tell within the red-curtained walls of this world. Laura was the battle. The question "Part 18" leaves us with is whether good or evil ultimately won if there even was a victor.

? =?

We will get back to this point in a little while, as there are other statements, inquiries and observations I wish to make regarding The Revival that doesn't have as much to do with Laura Palmer and her story. However, one could argue that everything in Twin Peaks does indeed come back around to this beautiful, haunted girl.

The Audrey Horne Problem

While David Lynch revels in the sweet torture of the suspense and anticipations of his viewing audience, I think we've been through enough at this point. That is why I'm moving directly to one of the most hot-button topics of the original series and revival, the fate of Audrey Horne. When the original series ended, Audrey was involved in a bank explosion leaving her character's fate up in the air. It took twelve episodes of The Return for us even to get a glimpse of her and her current life. The enigmatic sassy teenage girl we came to know and love in the '90s has become a seemingly brittle and bitter married woman in her later years. Though as often is the case with Twin Peaks, nothing is as it seems. We are brought to the elusive conclusion that Audrey herself is trapped somewhere otherworldly, or at the very least institutionalized. However, we are given such little context as to where she fits into the lives of the other characters still residing in Twin Peaks that it's nearly impossible to come up with any theory that isn't pure conjecture. In all honesty, I believe us as the fans deserved better. This character deserved better. That does not mean she should've received a happy ending in the arms of her one true love, Agent Cooper, it doesn't even mean her story had to have a conclusive final chapter. A woman so dedicated to discovering the truth, who went through hell and high water for love and affection, has been awarded nothing in return in this revival, and it seems incredibly anti-feminist. She is stripped of all autonomy that she had previously garnered in the original series. The things that made us love and respect her in the first place. This is a shame because Lynch and Frost write women very well, but sometimes it seems they just don't know what to do with them, or doesn't care at how their vision may be misperceived. It's admirable, but enraging at the same time. Meanwhile, Diane, played by Laura Dern in terrifically raw performance, is dealt a more complex deck to play. Audrey should have simply played a more definable role in the show's overarching plot, something that would've given her character, played impeccably still by Sherilyn Fenn, more significant meaning. The way Lynch portrays Audrey's suffering here comes off like a demented prepubescent child poking an injured bird with a stick. It could've been so much more, and while I appreciate Lynch's mission to mystify, some thing's are better left explored. Audrey was most certainly one of them.

Special Effects

Much of the excitement regarding the return of Twin Peaks was the result of it being brought back by Showtime as opposed to basis broadcast. This would obviously allow for much darker content, but also afford it an expanded budget that would enable visual effects to be substantially improved. While it is public knowledge at this point that Lynch had disagreements with Showtime regarding monetary accommodations, luckily, these issues were able to be worked out. What's humorous about all this however, is the fact that many special effects used during the 18 hours of The Return don't seem that expensive! Some of them seem to be intentionally low grade and spotty as if it really were airing in 1991 on ABC all over again. The artistic choices made by Lynch to supplement quality for creative imagination is certainly an admirable one. Things don't always have to look completely realistic for them to attract a viewer's eyeballs to a TV screen. The way Laura is sucked out of the Lodge in "Part 2" looks like amateur stop-motion animation, and I loved every second of it. The morphing of Mr C and Bob's faces together in the prison mirror is frightening without having to be the best CGI effects seen by an audience since Twister (1996). Lynch knows that the way you picture an idea in your head is sometimes even more authentic than how it would actually look if occurring in the real world. It is because of this invaluable knowledge that The Return has its own personal stamp of authenticity. Nothing has ever looked like it before, because everything else has always strived to look better than the present. Meanwhile, Lynch here seems to be continuously reinventing the past, to great appeasement. The White Lodge scenes in the empty opera house theater evoke Silent Film-era without feeling like artistic thievery. Cooper's harrowing rescue of Laura in "Part 17" is reminiscent of films such as The Wizard of Oz (1939) and even Back to the Future (1985). Lynch knows when homage becomes plagiarism, and that's why he never allows these to things to meet. Just like he never allowed Cooper and Audrey to meet again - alright sorry - I'm still bitter. The special effects in The Return build upon the visual storytelling foundations set by David Lynch throughout his entire career, and it was an honor to be able to see them fully recognized on television by his standards.

Music

Music plays an integral part in the world of Twin Peaks. The role it played in the revival is quite different from the one it played in the original incarnation. The original Twin Peaks certainly had its fair dose of melodrama, and much of that aspect to the plotlines came from the musical cues. As in the famous soap operas of the previous decades, whenever a shocking plot device was revealed, or a scandalous character action took place, Angelo Badalamenti's organically soulful musical score collided into the audience's earlobes like a piece of cherry pie onto an awaiting plate. Music in the old Twin Peaks was a marriage between story and sound. How you felt during a scene was heavily influenced by how Lynch, Frost and Badalamenti wanted you to feel. Now, that isn't to say the music was imposing; it did not force you to experience a scene in a certain matter. Think of it more as eating a particular cheese with a specific kind of wine. The pairing is appropriate and delicious, without demanding anything out of the consumer. Separate they are still enjoyable, but something about their blending is spectacularly moving. If anything, the music gave us more questions than answers, much like the plot itself. The haunting theme song alone swells with ambiguity and suspense. How then does the revival implement music into its narrative? It does so quite differently than its predecessor, yet with a somewhat familiar touch. The revival is like a color pallette, it has shades and tones similar to its parent series, but is at the end of the day, a completely new hue of its own. Musical cues are used sparingly in the 18-hour television operetta, with many scenes accompanied by total ambient silence. A notable moment is when Bobby Briggs sees Laura's old prom photo and begins to cry. Laura's theme instantly chimes in at the sight of his tears. In The Return music comes much more from the diegetic landscape of the world of the characters themselves. A performance at the Roadhouse Bar bookmarked almost every episode's conclusion. Many of these performances were done by famous and up and coming musicians across various genres of music. Naturally, with Lynch, a song is never just a song. The themes at play in that particular hour of the series hold some significance to the musical selection at the dreamy bar. At times it is unclear if the Roadhouse Sequences are even taking place in reality, especially at the end of "Part 16" with Audrey, but one thing is for sure; the performances are as magnanimous as the series they are being featured in. From Nine Inch Nails to Eddie Vedder, the musical performances evoke both Lycnhian aesthetic alongside MTV Unplugged nostalgia. Music is the black coffee of the Twin Peaks mythology, it's not an absolute necessity, but it gives it that thrilling kick in the pants it needs to be even more phenomenal.

Back to Laura: My View on The Finale

Whether her name is Maddy Ferguson or Carrie Page, Laura Palmer should be seen as a spiritual essence as opposed to just a girl from a small town. Long ago she was sent to us (likely from the White Lodge) to combat evil forces beyond our comprehension. We learn the name of this ancient mystical force in "Part 17", Judy. Lynch's choice of a female force being the true antagonist is perplexing. Does one wonder if this is to emulate Eve betraying God and eating the forbidden fruit? Men may be abusers, but women are the real threat to humanity's demise. This notion is far fetched and unlikely the real intention of the material. Judy and Bob merely represent the darkness humankind is capable of, male or female. The reason Judy holds the greater power is because women give birth to life forces, whether they be good or evil. If Laura is a Christ figure, Cooper must then be an apostle, a guardian sworn to protect this coveted soul from harm. The Log Lady seemed to be a seer of sorts and was likely imbued with a pearl of higher wisdom to help guide White Lodge Knights like Cooper in their quest to rid the world of this destructive force. In the original series, he fails in saving Laura, but only because he was unaware of his true path. Perhaps Judy had a hand in making him forget, the same way she disposed of Phillip Jefferies as he was nearing the truth years ago. By the time he learns his true purpose, he was trapped inside the Black Lodge for over a decade. Notice that once he escapes, it is not his divine goal to destroy his doppelganger, this duty is delegated to a woman, Lucy. Again, women give life and therefore, can take it away just as easily. It's also important to note that with Mr C death, Lucy has come full circle in the Circle of Life. She has given life (to a Marlon Brando impersonator) and has taken it away. Now back to Cooper, he doesn't stop Mr C or give the final blow that ultimately defeats Bob, because those weren't his true missions in the grand scheme. His mission was to save Laura at all costs. Laura would bring an end to Judy's destructive power. That's why Judy took hold of Sarah Palmer, feeding off her grief for the family she lost, Sarah was like a human capacitor for pain. Judy needed all the energy she could harness in order to fight against Laura and the White Lodge denizens. She manages to take Laura from Coop when he escapes to the past, but with instructions from the Fireman, Cooper manages to find the alternate reality where Judy is hiding her.

What then of the final scene? Why does Carrie/Laura scream? Where are Sarah and Leland? Why does Cooper behave so unusually, even for Cooper? I don't have an answer, though I've read the thoughts of many people who believe they do. All I can tell you is that the moment I saw Sheryl Lee silently glare up at the Palmer house and let out a blood-curdling scream I thought about the immense trauma inflicted on her character throughout the show. I thought about the trauma of all incest victims, sexual abuse victims and victims of addiction. Laura is their symbol, their tulpa of pain and suffering. What she feels, they have felt a million times over. No evil force, no matter how powerful can truly strip her memory of the horrific acts of inhumanity that she has been a part of. Laura remembers who she is, and in that recollection, she finally expels herself of all the hurt she felt inside her. The lights of the Palmer house go out because they cannot hurt her anymore. She has transcended herself with the help of Cooper into something entirely new. The ending may be bleak, it may mean her and Cooper are doomed, or it could be a covertly upbeat ending with Judy's venomous evil being defeated and all turning right again in this troubled world. The answer isn't there, no matter how hard someone tries to find it. There is just a scream and a blackout. We are left unknowing, but not unfeeling.

In the end, there are thousands of way to interpret the finale and the mythology of the Twin Peaks franchise in itself. Perhaps all of those theories and interpretations are correct, maybe none of them is. That is the confounding beauty of the world Lynch and Frost created for us. It raises the value of questions instead of pandering to the incessantly gluttonous need for answers. Art that puts trust into the hands of the observer is an art that will withstand the test of time. Twin Peaks will never die out, because like Laura and Coop, we are bound for infinite universes of possibilities. We all have the privilege of being the dreamer who lives inside a dream. Whether that is through the art, we create, or directly from the satisfaction of immersing ourselves in reruns and binge-watching. There will never be a definitive explanation for these glorious images and actions other than the one given by the late great Catherine Coulson.

"Laura is the One."

The world of Twin Peaks says quite a bit about who we are as a society, the things we choose to see or not see. How many Laura Palmer's die, simply because no one decided to ask what was wrong in the first place, or chose not to notice? Becky, played by Amanda Seyfried, seems well on her way to adding to the town's tragic legacy. Can a waitress or security guard be as much of a hero as an FBI Agent? Do we constantly search for answers without really understanding the questions in the first place? The questions are what keep us going, not the explanations. The citizens of Twin Peaks live idly in a sea of questions, adrift in psycho-spiritual bliss.

What does Laura whisper to Cooper in the Black Lodge in that final shot? I'm not quite sure, but it's incredibly exciting to stare in awe and wonder and to ponder the possibilities with yourself. It is the viewer's cup of steaming hot coffee, appreciate it. We don't get them as often as you may believe.

Power Rangers: A Mighty Mismorphed Movie

I might be late to the game, but since it took my entire childhood and adolescence to make a movie about these "teenagers with attitude" I think my tardiness should be accepted without a hall pass. Power Rangers have been and continue to be an integral part of millennial's lives as various incarnations of this superhero team have taken shape since the mid-1990s and continue to do so. Originally from Japan, Saban's Power Rangers are a group of diverse teenagers brought together by a celestial being known as Zordon to battle evil forces that threaten the safety of planet Earth and at times the entire galaxy itself. The original show Mighty Morphin Power Rangers utilized a majority of stock footage from the original Japanese production. It was infamous for its quirky humor, miniaturized sets and its impressing color-coordinated cast. Years have passed since and much has changed not only in the franchise but in the way mass audiences perceive superheroes themselves. Since Christopher Nolan's dark interpretation of Batman's odyssey, and Marvel's grit induced assembling of The Avengers, sparkly spandex and a catchy theme tune isn't enough to carry a superhero epic any longer. Power Rangers (2017) updates itself for the times for better or worse, and in some instances the worse really is...well worse.

I will divide this film review up in a very simple way, though the film we are evaluating is itself not so simple. Power Rangers is conflicted, much like the teenager characters that are featured in it. The film is unsure of exactly what it wants to be, insecure about the capabilities it truly possesses at its thematic core. This insecurity hinders it, especially in the film's second and third acts. The film starts as a respectable origin story, before veering off into an amalgamation of genre clichés and worn character stereotypes. It'll also be necessary at times to reference, compare and contrast the modern film to its 90's predecessor. Let's first take a look at the film's strongest portion, the first act.

Act One: Mighty Morphing Misfits

When I was a kid I never actually had much memory of the pilot episode for Mighty Morphing Power Rangers, so a few months ago I re-watched it on Netflix. I was surprised to find that I made an erroneous assumption about the five original members. I had always assumed even at a young age that these five very different adolescents were practically strangers to one another before being forced by fate to join together and become a team of crime fighters. Nope, the original series kicks off with all the members of the Power Rangers already being close friends, allowing for little to no conflict when thrust by fate to come together for the greater good. The first thing this film does right is have these individuals, who are already clearly polar-opposites, be completely uninvolved in one another's lives prior to discovering their true destiny as a united force. Sure The Breakfast Club (1985) vibes are immediately apparent, especially when given a juvenile detention facility as a setting, but it comes off more as cinematic borrowing than narrative theft. The film spends a good portion of its running time dedicated to getting to know these characters, something many films in this genre have failed tremendously at, in the past. While some may find the lack of action tedious, I found it refreshingly required. The second gold star the film receives is for diversity. Billy Cranston is autistic and the most three-dimensional character of the entire film. His quirks and personality traits come off as genuine rather than gimmicky or false, mainly because the actor playing him, RJ Cyler knows how to infuse him with humanity. Trini and Zack's character development comes too late in the plot, but when they do arrive, we find them also to be real people struggling with real-life issues such as sexual identity and family illness. These issues are handled with a sort of surprising subtly, and because of that, you forget during the first act at times that you are watching a superhero film altogether. While each character is given ample screen time, some are far more interesting than others, and this is where the first half starts to lag. Jason is our leader, the soon-to-be Red Ranger and his character arc feels the most artificial. The quintessential troubled athlete who is always pressured to be what he is not, the problem is the film never really clues us in on what Jason wants to be. Even the role of the leader doesn't seem to be something he desires, but rather something that is forced upon him by Zordon. The bodiless mentor is practically another overbearing father figure in Jason's life. If this film does branch off into a franchise much work needs to be done to give Dacre Montgomery something other than the cardboard cut-out of a struggling former star athlete, he's given to portray in this film. Kimberly's character development is infuriating and more antifeminist than Rita Repulsa's skimpy sexualized alien outfits. When we first meet her, we find her rebuking her snotty cheerleader friends and learn that she is in juvenile detention for punching a popular boy in the face. Sounds like a bad-ass right? Except all of that is thrown out the Command Center window when the audience finds out she sent out a sexual image of her best friend because they had a crush on the same boy! This completely devalues her as a character and feels like a misplaced PSA for the dangers of sexting. While the situation that brings them all together feels a bit too happenstance, it serves the running time by not delaying the inciting incident too much longer than it already had been. However, it is important to note as well that the way the film reforms and refines the mythology of the lore is done to great benefit. Basic Screenwriting 101 shows that the stakes not only should be great, but they should be personal. By making Rita, a former Ranger herself along with Zordon gives this plot a much more concise and concrete gravitas. Once Zordon and his comic- relief sidekick, Alpha Five are brought in to offer an overabundance of exposition, the film is quickly thrown into a muddled second act that offers few gems and even fewer subtleties. 

Act Two: Go Go Training Sequence

The entire second act is a basic training montage. The filmmakers make an interesting narrative move by not allowing the Rangers to be capable of morphing right away, once they are given the technology to do so. Morphing has a biological and physiological component that they struggle greatly to master throughout the second act. Again this makes the narrative focus intensely on the characters interpersonal relationships with one another, rather than a preoccupation with beating shit up while dressed in technicolored suits (more on Act Tree later.) A scene around a campfire allocates even more character development while training montages give the audience some visual eye candy as they await the inevitable powerhouse finale. The film remains relatively engaging as it balances the many different forces at work during the second half of its running time. When we are not focused on the Rangers in training, we are cutting to Rita working toward her diabolical scheme to steal a piece of the Zeo Crystal, which gives life to all things on Earth. Much criticism has been given to Elizabeth Banks for her cartoonish performance in the role, but it seems more than clear that the material is at fault, not the actress. Rita is savage and primal at one moment and sexy and menacing the next. She knows to go to a jewelry store to steal gold but does not recognize a Krispy Kreme as a food establishment. Her tone is uneven, catering to whatever serves the particular scene she is in. In fact, Bank's performance is commendable. She acts as a chameleon (she looks amphibian-like as it is) changing from scene to scene into what the script requires her to be. It is tiresome because what should be a great villain becomes a collection of half-hearted ideas executed with little gusto. Her strongest scene in the film is in Act Two when confronting Trini in her bedroom. It is also one of the film's most obvious missed opportunities. Rita gives Trini the offer of betraying her team and telling her the location of the Zeo Crystal, in exchange for her life. Bank's take on Rita in this scene is the most impressive. She is both feral and darkly sarcastic. She moans in orgasmic pleasure as she shows off her armor and tosses Trini around the bedroom. Her offer, however, makes little to no sense. She must know that Trini understands that the whole planet will die without the Zeo Crystal and therefore her offer to spare her life means nothing in the long run. This is likely why Trini does not take her offer and tells the team almost immediately, but this is the true missed opportunity! Trini is the most introverted and misunderstood member. She feels no connection to anyone in her life. Rita should offer her a chance of escape, maybe to another planet where others are more like her. A place where she can be accepted and understood. This would be a real bargaining chip, one that would allow us to see Trini struggle with a conflicted choice of choosing sanctity or morality. The more conflicted characters are in films, the more exciting it is to watch them make their choices. This plot point deflates before it is even given a chance to blow up. The film makes up for this slightly by giving Zordon himself an interesting character choice to make. When the team returns to the Command Center after Rita kills Billy, they learn Zordon finally has enough power to become a physical entity again and fight Rita himself, since the Rangers appear incapable at this low point. He opts not to and instead uses this power to resurrect Billy. The team is finally able to morph at this point, although it is never made clear exactly why. The collective is united, but what it is that ultimately united them, besides Billy coming back to life, is not apparent. The film at this point is too set on rushing into its third and final act which is the most conventional of them all.

Act Three: Megazords Vs. Mega-Problems

Once the Iron Man-Esque CGI suits are donned, the film hurtles toward its climactic battle sequence between the Rangers and Goldar, Rita's evil monstrosity created to rip the Zeo Crystal from the Earth's core. The final battle starts with hand-to-hand combat between the Power Rangers and the Putties, Rita's henchmen. This sequence is far too short and not given enough attention. The primary problem with the third act is that once the team gets into their suits, they seem perfectly in sync with one another, too in sync. They suddenly adopt joint combat movements that we've never seen them practice or perfect in any way. There is little sense that this is new to them until the Zords get involved. The Zord battle is thrilling but quite generic, topped off with a grueling cliché moment in which the Red Ranger saves his father from certain death. The designs and special effects are sufficient, but not noteworthy or particularly appealing. Goldar's lack of a face makes him far less intimidating as an opponent. It's like fighting a gold stick figure. The Megazord itself also lacks distinguishing physical characteristics, though it is an improvement to see them struggle at first to operate it properly. It is moments like that one that reminds us of the misty realism this film is so effortlessly trying to provoke at times. The worst part of the final battle is in its handling of the main villain. Rita is discarded like an unwanted booger from a toddler's nose as the Megazord essentially bitch-slaps her into outer space in a completely underwhelming manner. The third act lacks care and thoughtful storytelling, so present in the first two acts. It becomes a Michael Bay Spectacle without the proper tools for success. It's the film many paid to see but discovered soon after the lights went down that they didn't want after all. It's not to say that the third act should not have been a battle sequence, only that it should have been a much better one, one that suited the character's arcs and storylines set up earlier in the film. Then again, this is a film whose source material used stock footage for its battle scenes 98% of the time.

While I can appreciate and respect the idea that the filmmakers wished to hold some cards in their deck back for potential sequels, that does not mean they can underserve us as an audience in the finale. Why no Zordon and Alpha 5 scene after the final fight? How have the team members reconciled their many differences with one another? Who or what does Angel Grove think these superheroes are exactly? Things are tied up too neatly and at a far too sped-up pace for the conclusion to feel satisfactory. While of course, I would welcome a sequel, there are many lessons to learn from this film in order to create a satisfying and effective franchise in the future. The diversity of the team members should continue to be celebrated with both great attention and subtly, where warranted. Still, the action sequences must pack a more potent punch and be given greater considerable significance and correlation to the character's personal goals and story arcs. An example of this is the scene when Billy makes the Zord's hips shake in a celebratory dance, symbolizing him coming out of his shell thanks to his fellow team members. Action must have meaning, and meaning is created by the filmmakers, not just the actor's performances. On that note, I find Power Rangers to be an ambitious move towards creating superheroes that are more relatable on a human scale. These aren't Greek Gods or billionaires with a vengeance, these are everyday people. It has the potential to be a franchise that celebrates diversity and the critical role all people can play in making the world a better and safer place to inhabit. It hasn't necessarily made the source material proud yet, but this film proves it has the capabilities to do so with colorful and creative abundance. They've morphed, now they should be given the opportunity in future films to be mighty.

Wonder Woman (2017): An Heroic Act of Cinematic Art

Growing up, it had never occurred to me the phrases "woman" and "superhero" were so mutually exclusive when it came to films. I'm too young to have watched Lynda Carter bring Wonder Woman to life on the small screen in the 1970's and yet thanks to my mother I know the valuable impact she had on powerful and intelligent depictions of women in media. Helmed by director Patty Jenkins, Wonder Woman (2017) certainly had a lot to live up to in regards to expectations. The first live-action interpretation of one of the most iconic female heroines of a lifetime on the big screen as well as the first motion picture in about twelve years to have a female superhero as the protagonist. At a time when feminism is most vital and potent in our society, it seems men and women alike were dutifully prepared to pounce on this cinematic venture if it was anything short of phenomenally empowering. This is especially true considering that the last two outings for the DC Cinematic Universe were less than stellar adaptations of their comic book counterparts. Well, ultimately it seems critical consensus has already agreed that Wonder Woman achieved its mission with plenty of gratuities to go around. It is everything and then some. It is complex and simplistic with such effortless duality one wonders why it took until 2017 to fulfil such an empty hole in the world of film. I didn't merely enjoy Wonder Woman; I engaged in it completely as an audience member, comic book fan and feminist alike. It is difficult to discuss this film from a mere single point of view as it has been hailed as so many different things by countless fans, critics and everyday film-goers. It is for that reason that I shall be reviewing the film under three different cinematic lenses throughout. I will discuss and dissect the reasons why I firmly believe the film succeeds as being an effective film for entry into any and all of these three categories I put before you.

Wonder Woman as a War Film

Initially slated to be set during WWII the film makes a bold choice in deciding to move the plot to earlier in history. Our heroine is not accustomed to insatiable violence and hatred, and at the time of the first world war, neither were many world citizens. The world was only just beginning to accept itself as a complex entity of scrupulous morality, just as Diana is coming to realize that of this uncharted territory herself. The plot and the character arc, run parallel to each other in this particular department. Chris Pine even states early in the film that people feel this is "the war to end all wars." How sad it is to know he's sorely mistaken. The battlefield scenes are shot with beautifully gritty realism. Much greater attention to detail is given to the set design in this film than many other superhero films would care to give, even with a period piece. Some could certainly argue the film is not bloody enough for a war film. Diana slices several men with her sword without so much as a red drop, but the absence of carnage and bloodied guts is made up for by the visceral images of war-torn societies. A film containing so much surreal iconography somehow still manages to grab the audience's attention by showing them a memorably morose shot of refugees walking across a bridge in despondent silence. We and Diana both are reminded just who heroes fight for in times of great duress by moments such as this one. We also remind ourselves that war is not the often glorified macho-fest that so many lesser films have depicted it as being. While it obviously fictionalizes events set within the real-time period, Wonder Woman seems to speak more about the perverseness and futility of war and authoritarian violence then it should be required. As you will see throughout this review, this is a film doing double duty in many departments. Good War Films also speak toward what is currently going on in the world now and Wonder Woman does an excellent job of reinforcing the idea that hatred and intolerance toward the "other" can more often than not lead to destruction and chaos for all. A word to the wise for foreign policy in 2017.

Wonder Woman as a Superhero Film

The formula for the superhero film has been pretty finely tuned over the last decade. While not yet an exact science, certain elements are likely to be found within the plot regardless of the source material or production company releasing the film. Chris Pine and others have alluded to one particular strength of the film, and that is that it breaks the tired "revenge plot" cliché many superhero films (especially origin stories) find themselves in. After some careful consideration, however, I have to disagree with this statement slightly. Early in the film Diana's Aunt Antiope, played by the impeccable Robin Wright, is killed when enemy soldiers briefly invade Paradise Island. Diana takes her headpiece and eventually incorporates it into her costume. This death is clearly a key factor in Diana's decision to leave the island, defeat Ares and help end World War I. While perhaps not the conventional death narrative, it certainly retains elements of it almost so as not completely to alienate the audience too much with novice. The action sequences are shot with such effortless precision; it is a true testament to the phrase "less is more." Flashy quick cuts and CGI karate effects are omitted for realistic hand on hand combat between the Amazonian Goddess and her enemies. Though the final battle contains mostly special effects, the bulk of the films action sequences contain realistic and energized fighting. The training montage with the Amazonians at the beginning of the film most certainly show off how hard the cast trained to depict themselves as true warriors. The biggest detraction from the mainstream superhero film genre comes from Diana's ideology. She does not enjoy taking battle; it is done out of necessity, not as a cathartic release as often seen with Batman or even Marvel Anti-Heroes like The Punisher. It is not for the thrills or adulation as seen with Spiderman or The Fantastic Four. Diana fights out of a moral obligation to make things better, to end future conflicts, not encourage them. She is in many ways one of the only true pacifist superheroes. What's so admirable about the film is how it makes this character trait a strength and weakness for her. Diana believes that by stopping Ares, she can break the humans of his binding spell and make them a loving, peaceful society once more. She does not comprehend that the moral compass she was born with is not inherited in those around her, especially her enemies. They commit heinous acts against humanity, mostly out of their own volition. It is within Diana's character arc that she learns to respect both the cruelty of humankind as well as the compassion and bravery they are capable of. The final battle is as much a philosophical debate: Is War Truth? This is a superhero film with something much greater to say than "let's fight!" It is actually posing the profound philosophical question: "Why do we fight?"

Wonder Woman as a Feminist Film

As a man, it is important that I give this section of the review the justice it deserves. Many have already reviewed and analyzed why this film either succeeds or fails as a feminist motion picture. Most that argue the latter claim the film is about conformity to the patriarchal archetype or that the feminist message isn't pushed hard enough within the narrative. I would respectfully disagree on both of those points. So how then would I argue that Wonder Woman is a more than adequate example of feministic filmmaking? How about the fact that it willfully refutes the obsessive "male gaze" that so clearly dominated female superhero films such as Elektra (2005) and Catwoman (2004). At no point is Diana's body hyper-sexualized or fetishized in order to serve the titillation of the male audience members. The film also wholly omits any idea of women on women hate. Diana is not balked at or judged by the women of London for her unusual behavior or attire, and she does not engage in what would've been a meaningless battle with the film's female secondary villain Dr Poison. Instead of killing her, she finds the humanity beneath her cracked mask of brutality. This is in complete opposition to Superman breaking the neck of his arch-enemy in Man of Steel (2013). However, instead of focusing on what the film doesn't do, let's discuss the things it does do to promote a positive and inclusive gender ideology. Steve Trevor is one of the most well written three-dimensional "love interest" characters that I've witnessed in a superhero or action film in a long while. Where the screenwriter could easily diminish and reduce the role's of the male characters for the benefit of the women, they choose not to. While there are examples of the ignorant male patriarchy, Jenkins chooses to instead give more screen time to men who are willing to accept and respect a woman's place in this complex world. The soldiers that follow Steve and Diana on their mission are beguiled by her, not repulsed or enraged. Wonder Woman at no point in the entire film is there to emasculate anyone, for that is not what feminism truly is. She does not attempt to become "one of the boys" either. She simply insists upon being her authentic self, open to learning new things and meeting new people. She is an embodiment of Womanhood, fearless and caring in a simultaneous manner that few men could replicate. This choice speaks volumes in terms of feminist filmmaking. Why do male-driven pictures so often diminish the role of women when Wonder Woman so clearly acknowledges how they can find an equilibrium of sorts? More women should be written as thoughtfully as the kind, and courageous Steve Trevor is, and more female love interest should be able to make the autonomic choice that he makes in the climax of the film.

No Man's Land

Now one scene deserves its own subsection, and that is when Diana truly becomes Wonder Woman as she crosses "No Man's Land." No Man's Land is the field of battle between the ally and enemy lines during a war. She crosses this to give aid to the innocent civilians trapped on the other side. Steve Trevor gives her a nice big mansplaining speech about how no one can simply walk across No Man's Land; it is an impossible and dangerous feat to accomplish. He chides on that sometimes a person must accept the limitations which are set before them in life. Diana refuses to succumb to this defeatist attitude. She walks across, dodging bullets with her armored bracelets and shield. She runs across with great fury and determination. What is truly immaculate about this scene is not only its beautiful shot composition, no that is mere gravy. When I watched Wonder Woman transverse across the battlefield, I couldn't help but think about all that women have fought for over the years. Suffragettes, rape survivors, LGBTQ women, women of color. Their never-ending oppression in many societies, even up to the present day. While watching Diana make this dangerous crossing, one that she was warned against, but persisted through regardless, I saw a vital visualization of Womanhood and how difficult it must be for so many to cling onto. Each bullet she swats away is representative of an age-old gender stereotype. The grenades which she deflects are the words of submissiveness that women must rebuke. The men that she slices with her sword are the metaphorical obstacles that have gotten in women's way over the years. Diana turns "No Man's Land" into "Women's Land of Hope". It is triumphant, it is inspiring, and it is the most emotionally engaging action sequence that I have ever seen. It promotes the value of independence and the necessity to fight for one's morals and ideals despite rejection. It is the battle women will continue to fight for years to come, but they may look back on Wonder Woman in this scene and be able to say "She did it, that means I can too."

Wonder Woman is not the most perfect superhero film ever made, nor is it the most pro-feminist. Still, it ranks amongst the greatest, if only for the sizable effort it gives towards being a progressive piece of cinema while maintaining the audience attention through fantastically well-executed storytelling techniques. It will be in the history books for sure, but it is not the best we can do. I believe it will serve as a future template for even stronger female-driven films, both within the superhero genre and within others as well. The film doesn't merely achieve some abstract societal feat. It opens our eyes towards the endless possibilities of the future, a future in which Wonder Woman doesn't have to live up to such high expectations because those expectations will have become the new normal.

Why Unofficial Biopics Should Remain Unproduced

Today I am slightly breaking some cardinal film blogging rules. Some of the films I am going to refer to I have not seen in their entirety, mainly, because frankly, no one should. Biographical films or "biopics" as they are commonly referred to today can be some of the most impactful pieces of cinema when done properly. In my post, you'll see me use terms like "done properly" quite often. The truth is this kind of phrase is subjective. What some find to be fine art, others will see as utter garbage; look at the current state of the White House for further proof of this notion. More often than not, we qualify a film as "good" by the mass critical reception it receives. Critics aren't always right, but average viewers like myself often have our finger on the pulse of decent quality cinema or television. When thousands or even millions of our opinions seem to reach a consensus, I personally believe it's pretty safe to assume a film or television show is what we see it to be. So to circle back to my original point here, what do most everyday people think of biopics?

The popular TV Channel Lifetime is the main culprit on trial here as they have inspired me to write this hopefully somewhat concise rant. With the release of last night's Searching for Neverland (2017), a Michael Jackson biopic I have simply lost patience with the lack of propriety this channel has in regards to the material it chooses to handle. Let me say, first and foremost, that if the individual whose life is the subject of the film does not grant you permission, or in the case that they are deceased, their family and/or estat, you should NOT pursue a cinematic adaptation of their life or story. According to social media, Michael Jackson, in this television picture, somehow magically acquired a British accent not heard of until now. Possibly because the actor (or rather an impersonator) portraying him did not feel the need to put much work in masking it in order to more accurately and respectfully portray the King of Pop, these films might as well be straight up fiction with a thinly written protagonist that not-so-ambiguously mirrors their real-life counterparts. That would be slightly less offensive than the subpar incredibly offensive and inaccurate biopics Lifetime has been excreting over the last several years. I could not watch Britney Ever After in its entirety, though I watched the majority of its convoluted running time. As both a fan of Ms Spears and someone with a fully functioning brain, honestly, I wouldn't say I liked the blatant disregard for a human's fragile psyche and complicated personal strife. Films like this very simply, have no heart. They thrive and rely on one single thing to live, nostalgia. People will watch because of their familiarity with the subject matter. Maybe they watch because they detest the subject matter and want to see it treated poorly for kicks. Cinematic fetishism aside, these films lose their audience before the title even appears on the screen. Both the Britney and Michael biopics could not even receive the music rights of the artists they were portraying. What is the point of crudely attempting to illustrate these superstar's lives if you aren't even going to show the talent that made them famous in the first place?! From a business standpoint, it is astounding that this message has not yet been received. These films cause legal issues, loss in viewership and make little to no money in after-sales on DVD or digital platforms. They are dead in the water and yet Lifetime continues to give stillbirth to them and shows no signs of slowing down.

Now some of these biopics are handled with some semblance of care or consideration for the subject matter. Whitney (2015) the story of Whitney Houston and Bobby Brown's tumultuous marriage was directed by Houston's friend and former co-star, Angela Basset. It is no surprise that it took a female African American director to finally imbue one of these tawdry biopics with some form of class and respect for the subject matter. However, seeing that her family were less than pleased with the biopic proves that Lifetime still has a way to go in creating both entertaining and respectful biographical stories for some of the biggest titans in the entertainment industry. I'm not ignorant, I know Britney Spears is not Harvey Milk or Erin Brockovich, but she and others still have a right to have their stories told with some speck of humility in them. Will Lifetime learn their lesson? In my honest opinion, no. They could care less about credibility. They are a manufacturing factory and will continue to assembly line personal stories which deserve much more tender attention and care with hasty indifference. In the era of nostalgia fever and remake influenza running rapid in both the big and small screen, these misguided television executives and filmmakers think they've cashed in on audience's ignorance to reality and their apparent apathy toward real human trauma. Prove them wrong, don't tune in; I certainly will not be anymore. Whether it's Fuller House or the Unauthorized Full House, people should let a legacy live on, but not die from a heart attack of creative cholesterol filled disaster!

A quick note about the big screen biopics: it was recently announced that Universal Pictures had secured the rights to a Madonna biopic titled Blonde Ambition which was voted the #1 script on this past year's Blacklist. I had the privilege of reading the script in my screenwriting class this semester. While I enjoyed the script on a personal level and found its structure to be impeccable in design, I never believed it would get greenlit. I knew Madonna would never approve. Alas, it has, and she indeed does not. If the film fails to receive the music rights to her music, I firmly believe it should not be pursued on the same basis of morality and decency that I have mentioned above. Tell your own stories, not your perverted or bias versions of other peoples.

Beauty and the Beast (2017): A Tale Retold with Time

I've been waiting with stifled anticipation for the last two years for Disney's live-action reimagining of one of it's most classic cinematic masterpieces Beauty and The Beast (1991), to come to theaters. Having gotten the privilege to see it on opening night with my mother and father, I found myself once more immersed into a world of fantasy and childhood nostalgia. The film boasts an incredibly talented cast and the script by Evan Spiliotopoulos and Stephen Chbosky hits all the old story marks, while even finding the time to create new moments for us to treasure forever: if you've listened to the new soundtrack, you'll find the pun in that sentence. The film is not altogether perfect, nor does it in any way surpass its timeless animated predecessor. It at times falters, unsure of where it should lie, somewhere between a childhood fairytale and an adult progressive message about the changing times. In my opinion, it could've done both with a far better tonal balance had it not been so self-conscious. I shall split this review up into several subsections, similar to the format of my review for the Blair Witch (2016).

The Cast

The formidable ensemble of this film is one not to be undervalued. Emma Watson, Dan Stevens, Emma Thompson, Ewan McGregor amongst many others breathe life into these roles we've so desperately missed since the 1990s. An important note to also make early on in this review is that everyone in this film can sing. Emma's voice ironically may be the weakest among the group, but it's light and wilting and appropriate for the delicate, yet willful character she portrays. In fact, let's talk about Ms Watson's performance and get it out of the way. I am sad to report that I personally found her lacking in this lead role, not necessarily in talent as much as execution. In several key scenes, Watson comes up short of anything resembling emotional resonance. As the Beast begins to beguile her with his charm and hidden depth, she seems to be going through the motions rather than experiencing an actual transformation of comprehension and insight. When she tells the dying Beast lying in her arms that she loves him, her face restrains instead of succumbing to heartache as it so should. Her saving grace comes in a newly added subplot in which she and the Beast visit her former childhood home in Paris to discover what happened to her mother. Watson's reaction to the sacrifices Belle's parent's made for her feels raw, real and even frighteningly relatable to anyone whose parents have suffered a minute to spare their child a lifetime. Opposite Watson, Dan Stevens puts on a formidable and dashing performance as The Beast. The script opens up his character to new opportunities like Watson's, but Stevens seems to take more chances with his freedom. He is menacing when needed and surprisingly vulnerable and endearing when least expected. He handles his new solo Evermore with aplomb and possesses the vigor of a true stage performer. Gugu Mbatha - Raw is wasted unfortunately in the role of the maid turned feather duster, Plumette. An accomplished singer and actress should have more to do than fly around as a bird and put on a ludicrous French accent while spitting out a few lines of dialogue here and there. She starred in the film Belle (2013) for heaven sakes! The same cannot be said for Audra McDonald, who of course is given an expanded supporting role and plenty of opportunities to flex her unquestionably magnificent vocal cords. Josh Gad is memorable as Le Fou, but the controversial sexuality of his character comes off more as a cheap highlighted stereotype than a cinematic breakthrough, nice try Disney. The rest of the cast round out their roles nicely, bringing relatively the same amount of energy to the characters as there was in the 1991 animated feature.

The Soundtrack

What is a musical without good music? The answer is the abomination that is From Justin to Kelly (2003). Luckily, Beauty and The Beast had the clarity of mind enough to bring back Alan Menken and Time Rice as composers and producers, as well as utilize some unused material from the late great Howard Ashman. The music to Beauty and The Beast should whisk the audience away into a magical world of love and adventure. The songs on the new soundtrack do whisk the audience away, though sometimes it is only with a light breeze. The opening song "Belle" for example comes off as underwhelming and seriously lacking in the boisterous energy the original had given life to. "Be Our Guest" is given dazzling new effects and choreography, to much joyous, if not epileptic-like effect. The title song (my favorite song of the original) is given due justice by the incomparable Emma Thompson, who sustains a cockney British accent without faltering a note or missing a beat. Her rendition of the title song is as enchanting and passionate as her dear friend Angela Lansbury had sung it before her. The new songs fair well, though they are not exactly on par with the gems of the original. They are just good enough to be set beside these other timeless classics. The best of the three new additions is "How Does A Moment Last Forever" sung by various characters throughout the film and finally in its entirety in the film's credits by Celine Dion. This song echoes the Disney of the past decade, decadent, universal and engrossing. Some may argue it is trying too hard, but I believe it tries just enough. Overall the soundtrack does not surpass the original but breathes a fresh perspective on these timely treasured tunes of old. You'll still have a pip in your step and a song in your heart, even if you may want to regurgitate it after a few listens.

The Plot

Director Bill Condon and his competent screenwriters help flesh out this tale as old as time into something even more substantial and cinematically pleasurable. They add a touch of logic, which may seem absurd for a fairytale, but is actually a welcomed inclusion here as it raises the stakes for many of the characters. The curse the Enchantress puts on the castle extends to the village itself, wiping away all memories of the castle and its inhabitants from their minds. This explains why the villagers are seemingly ignorant of a castle so close by and give the servants in the castle a more grounded and heartbreaking backstory, that their loved ones have genuinely forgotten them. The film paces well enough, giving Belle and The Beast an ample amount of time to get to know one another and fall in love for real, though I wish the first act spent more time on The Beast's more unsavory authoritarian behavior. The relationship with him and his servants is still an unclear one in this adaptation. In one moment they feel comfortable standing up to him, in another, they're frightened out of their minds. The boundaries are muddled. The rest of the plot goes along pretty much the same as the original with story beats either being extended or short-tailed in favor of something more innovative or relevant to today's times. This is very evident in Belle's feminist stances in the first act, such as her invention of the washing machine contraption so she can read in peace. The all-important ballroom sequence is as stunning in live-action, as it was in the revolutionary animation done over a decade before. It is a true moment of solidification of mutual attraction between two living beings, an affirmation of love and a promise of dedication, all executed in the form of a romantic candlelight waltz. The film is particularly grim in its climax, giving us a disturbing idea of what unhappily-ever -after looks like. The plot is nuanced enough to be considered new but does not divert enough from the source work to be regarded as a full out reinvention of the story itself. It is familiar and exciting in many of the right ways, and forgivable enough for its transgressions by making up for them with required aesthetic gloss and narrative aptitude.

A remake and a reimagining are distinctions that I believe must begin to take greater significance in regards to the cinematic arts. The word remake is becoming far too polluted and even vulgar when taken into many contexts by today's standards. It sounds reductive and ill-conceived. A reimagining is really what this film is, taking a well-known story and giving it a freshly concocted update without losing or devaluing what made it so invaluable in the first place. This new 2017 film does not disgrace the original, nor does it supersede it. Instead, it does what any remake or reimagining should honestly do; it honors it. Disney should always keep in mind when translating their larger than life stories into the real world that they must not lose the spirit of the original. Still, it also simultaneously has an obligation to build upon the source material's themes and create a memorable experience all anew for the audience. A film like this should leave the audiences with a conflicted, yet satisfying feeling in their hearts. A feeling that could only be described as "bittersweet and strange."