“You put a dime in him? You have to let the whole song play out.” Marvel’s Ant-Man and The Wasp


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Ant-Man and The Wasp is fun, whimsical, kind-hearted, and a welcome palate cleanser after the ominous, rather gloomy Avengers: Infinity War. The flick is a bit like Everybody Loves Raymond in Spandex … with shrink-ray powers. If Marvel ever aims to create a weekly sitcom, they should start here. 

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The first Ant-Man was an amiably frothy trifle that somehow still managed to achieve a lovely emotional resonance around the importance of family.

Director Peyton Reed, who has helmed both films so far in the series, maintains a light touch regarding the super-heroics in the second film, while diving deeper into the ties that bind Scott Lang (Paul Rudd as Ant-Man’s alter ego) to his daughter Cassie (a thoroughly natural Abby Ryder Fortson), to his ex-wife and her new husband (Judy Greer and Bobby Cannavale mugging for the cheap seats), to his adopted crime-busting buddies Hank Pym (a sparkling Michael Douglas) and Hank’s daughter Hope (an a**-kicking Evangeline Lilly, who’s never been better), and to his fellow-ex-con-now-business-partner Luis (endearing Michael Pena, who could read the phone book onscreen and still get laughs without detracting from the story or his fellow performers).

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The actors collectively seem to be thinking, “We’re making a sequel? We didn’t think they’d make one, let alone two, movies about a character named ‘Ant-Man’!?!” That loose, grateful, and frisky camaraderie is blessedly evident onscreen.

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To Reed’s credit, the film slyly defies the conventions of its genre. There is a ton of action, but it all follows the rhythms of a musical comedy or a silent film, more than it does those of a violently cathartic summer blockbuster. Car chases don’t kill time or amp up excitement but seem designed solely to stack up the sight gags: a giant-sized Hello Kitty! Pez dispenser is used to dispatch a gang of motorcycle thugs, for instance.

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Sequences that could have been milked for unnecessary suspense (and to pad screen time) end logically and efficiently, but only after maximizing any comic returns. For example, Ant-Man and Wasp skulk about Cassie’s school in a manner that is more Bringing Up Baby than Mission: Impossible. They are there to a find a piece of tech which the little girl has inadvertently brought to show and tell, and, rather believably, they find what they are seeking with minimal shenanigans (albeit after a couple of really funny sight gags) and are back on the road in no time. (Unfortunately, that scene does say a little too much about how easy it is to sneak in and out of a public school.)

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To be honest, the fact that this is a movie about super-heroes almost seems incidental to character development. How about that?

Furthermore, there really aren’t any true villains in the film. At least not in the traditional “comic book” sense. No flame-haired antagonist wants to see the world burn or redirect global resources to his faux-martyred tribe. No, that story line is unfortunately playing out in (sur)real-life these days.

Instead, narrative complications arise from the various characters’ self-interests being at cross-purposes or from the characters having just plain old bad-timing, such as …

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  • Hank and Hope have cooked up some cosmic doo-hickey to rescue Hank’s wife/Hope’s mother Janet van Dyne (Michelle Pfeiffer who basically just plays Michelle Pfeiffer any more) from the “Quantum Realm” (think: lava lamp meets Spirograph) but don’t have all the geegaws they need to make it work.
  • An international arms dealer (Walton Goggins, always a pleasure in his otherworldly Bruce Dern-on-amphetamines way) AND the FBI (led by a comically inept Randall Park, serving as a timely punching bag for the many Comey-haters in the audience) are both after Hank and Hope for assorted-basically-inconsequential reasons.

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  • Scott is the only one who can help Hope and Hank find mama but they’re ticked at Hank for stealing technology from them … PLUS he is on house arrest so he really shouldn’t be gallivanting around San Francisco in his Ant-Man costume.
  • Luis is trying to get Scott to focus on the security business they have started, specifically on a big bit of business they are pitching to a potential client.
  • There’s a creature named Ghost wandering around and causing trouble (a creepy Hannah John-Kamen laying the angst on a bit too thick). Ghost is slowly dissipating into the ether and, in order to survive, needs to do something vaguely vampiric to Janet van Dyne, that is if and when Janet gets rescued from, yes, the “Quantum Realm.”

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  • Oh, and Laurence Fishburne is in this thing too, as befuddled as the rest of us by the plot. And that’s just fine.

If it sounds like the story-line is a big pile of indigestible spaghetti, it kind of is, but it doesn’t matter. The film keeps everything small (pun intended) and relationship-driven. These characters are thoughtfully drawn and are portrayed by a team of pros, none of whom take any of it too seriously, but nonetheless weave believable and compelling situational dynamics. The film unspools episodically, meandering here and there, yet it never is boring. No character in the film seems to have any real command of their own lives – save Evangeline Lilly’s Hope who is about as inspiring and self-assured a character as we’ve seen since Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman. That alone is quite refreshing.

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In one of the more absurd asides, Luis, late in the film, is injected with a truth serum. With his voice emanating from all of the various characters/actors, we are treated to a blow-by-blow, side-splitting re-enactment of everything that has transpired heretofore in both films. The scene is completely unnecessary, utterly brilliant, and totally bonkers; I’m not doing it justice in my description. Regardless, the sequence exists not solely to entertain but to remind us of character and of humanity and of family in its many permutations. As one of Luis’ compatriots’ observes in that moment, “You put a dime in him? You have to let the whole song play out.” And isn’t that true for any one of us?

Go see Ant-Man and The Wasp for some much-needed escapism in these dark times. Stay for the essential reminder that we all have stories to tell and that we all want to love and be loved in return.


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Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital). In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the first book is currently is being carried by BookboundCommon Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan. My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.

Countdown: Mortal Instruments – City of Bones

From my wonderful publisher Open Books

12 days left until the official launch of ReelRoyReviews, a book of film, music, and theatre reviews, by Roy Sexton!

Here’s what Roy thought about The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones: “Yeah, I wanted to see The Butler. I still want to see The Butler. This particular trip to the theatre, I did not see The Butler. Nope, instead, I saw The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones. Yup, you read that sentence correctly. Any film that has that many cryptically ominous words and a colon in the title is truly as bad as it sounds.”

Learn more about REEL ROY REVIEWS, VOL 1: KEEPIN’ IT REAL by Roy Sexton at http://www.open-bks.com/library/moderns/reel-roy-reviews/about-book.html. Book can also be ordered at Amazon here.

Never trust a movie with a colon in the title … The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones

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[Image Source: Wikipedia]

Yeah, I wanted to see The Butler. I still want to see The Butler. Tonight, I did not see The Butler.

Nope, instead, I saw The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones. Yup, you read that sentence correctly. Any film that has that many cryptically ominous words AND a colon in the title is truly as bad as it sounds. At least we still have truth in some advertising, regardless how inadvertent. Cold comfort.

When will this turgid phase of young “adult” fiction-turned-cinematic tripe finally pass like the hastily consumed, calorically empty fast food dinner it is? (I apologize for the colorful, though apt, metaphor.) Whom do I get blame for these movies? Harry Potter? Edward and Bella? Dawson’s Creek? Oy.

I’m not sure what to say about this one. Simply put, this film stole two and a half hours of my life that I’ll never get back. (The trailers beforehand weren’t even interesting. Another adaptation of what I personally view as Shakespeare’s least interesting work, Romeo and Juliet? With Paul Giamatti?!? Really?!)

After the movie, my friends and I spoke at length about movies and tv shows that move us to tears (in a good way). The chat had nothing to do with this film, but we had it nonetheless. You want to know what made me cry about this film … other than the colossal waste of production time and money it represented?

I’ll tell you what made me cry…that THIS is the way Hollywood chooses to use the brilliant Jared Harris as he moons around like an angsty, tattooed version of his father Richard’s last role Dumbledore (which also was kind of a crime against humanity and art, but not as bad as this).

CCH Pounder, also a terrific actor, is relegated to Viola Davis’ mystic sci-fi blockbuster cast-offs as some spooky voodoo witch landlord who, at the film’s midpoint, turns into a strange hybrid of Lord of the Rings’ Golem and Whoopi Goldberg’s character from Ghost.

Oh, and our hero? The darling Lily Collins, so charming in the underrated though clunky Mirror Mirror, borrows heavily from the Kristen Stewart balsa wood school of acting while bringing a smidge of Annette Funicello’s furrowed brow and Kate Beckinsale’s leather/lycra-wearing-demon-slaying contortions. What the h*ll?

This movie is a mess. I don’t think it would even make it through pilot season on The CW. And they’ll put anything on the air.

The plot? What plot. Something about a girl born with some sort of magical powers to kill werewolves or vampires or demons while befriending angels and lurking about spooky old museum/castle locations in what appeared to be the Manhattan of 1984’s Ghostbusters. Oh, and poor Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Lena Headey, and Jamie Campbell Bower show up to collect a paycheck and act out some portentous nonsensical mystical hoo-ha.

Yup, could have been watching The Butler. Instead, saw a movie with bad CGI, worse dialogue, and a colon in the title.

Here’s hoping when I finally see The Butler, Jane Fonda and Oprah don’t suddenly turn into mopey vampire-slayers.