Our Souls At Night

Nothing quite caps off a Friday night out with your parents than watching a movie on Netflix. Yes, I realize how absurd that statement sounds, but the fact remains a Red Lobster Margarita tastes phenomenal regardless of who sits beside you in the booth. Anyways, two weeks prior we watched Barefoot in the Park (1967) starring Jane Fonda and Robert Redford, in preparation for the release of the duos the FOURTH film together Our Souls At Night (2017).

The film tells the story of two neighboring widows who decide to begin sleeping in the same bed at night to combat the loneliness of heartbreak and aging. Though they have lived within yards of each other for years, Louis Waters and Addie Moore (Redford and Fonda respectfully) hardly know each other. One thing that instantly intrigued me as I sipped a Corona on my couch and watched Redford eat a late-night frozen dinner in the opening scene was how quickly the inciting incident of the film takes place. The 101 minute running time takes no reservations for the sake of subtly. Addie shows up at his doorstep within the first ten minutes and makes him a proposition of a lifetime, sort of.

We don't always need to know the exact psychological inner workings of our protagonist minds. Some ideas are so alluringly fascinating that they don't need justification. What I am saying is, I'm glad we don't spend 15 minutes at the beginning of the film with some schmaltzy montage consisting of Louis and Addie sleeping alone and being, well lonely. Instead, we get right to the good stuff, the proposition of companionship. We shouldn't learn too much about either of them before the arrangement begins, because as the film progresses we see that it is during key scenes of them preparing for bed, that the characters begin revealing their true inner-selves to us and, of course, to each other.

My dad commented early on during the film that I found quite striking, even though it was something I was already quite aware of as a film student. He noted that sometimes in film, all you need is a really good premise, a story no one else has thought of yet. That can frequently be enough to hook an audience. Of course, as a film student, I also know that you can't rely on the premise alone. A movie about two people who sleep together but don't actually SLEEP together (I mean sex, how's that for subtly?) could easily be dreary, tear-jerking tissue waster. Our Souls at Night avoids this, however. Its most considerable saving grace being the immaculate chemistry between its two iconic leads. Redford's reserved timid-ness in his portrayal of Louis harkens back to his performance as Hubble in The Way We Were (1973). Fonda is more of a minx, creating a character who takes a bit more time to figure out, but her hidden depths are worth the wait thanks to the actress's penchant for balancing brash humor with tender emotion. Her eyes strain with guilt tinged tears as she recalls the death of her young daughter years prior in a particularly memorable scene.

The film is a slow boil, allowing the strangers to evolve into lovers in an unforced organic manner that is rare of most commercial films in today's world. Their first kiss isn't even shared until well past the film's halfway mark. While this romantic turn hardly comes as a surprise, its inevitability feels somewhat less gimmicky by the film's delicate handling of their cautiously bred intimacy. One fault of the film that should be noted is its waste of actress Judy Greer in only a single scene as Redford's daughter. Why such a talented actress continues to be given such thankless roles as this one is beyond me, it's good time this stops. How can we bring about the next generation of Fonda's and Redford's when talented actors and actresses who've put the work in are given so little to show for it?

Overall the film is a compelling romance, reminding us to appreciate that stories featuring older couples can be just as emotionally engaging and sexy as ones featuring those atop People's Sexiest Person Alive List. Fonda and Redford are worthy of quality work such as this, and where it falters, they bring it back to par with their seasoned expertise and acting wisdom. If they did another twenty films together, I'd watch each one with gleeful adulation at Old Hollywood still showing the New Kids how it's done best, with care.

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.