Saturday, July 12, 2025
MAN OF FEEL: "Superman" Is A Doggone Good Time
Wednesday, June 11, 2025
“FROM THE WORLD OF JOHN WICK: BALLERINA” (2025): A MUDDLED DANCE THAT FAILS TO SLAY.
There’s a sequence in the first third of the film wherein
the titular character Eve (Ana De Armas) performs a pirouette, only to
eventually lose her balance and fall crashing to the stage...repeatedly. This is
meant as part of the obligatory training montage that is expected of action
films, but it unfortunately epitomizes the film as a whole: stumbling under its
own weight.
“Ballerina”, directed by Les Wiseman and Chad Stahelski (!) and starring de Armas with a special appearance by Keanu Reeves, takes place in the world of John Wick, specifically between “John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum” and “John Wick: Chapter 4”. Chronologically, it fills in a gap. Creatively, it doesn’t fill much at all.
The story follows a young assassin named Eve (de Armas), whose father—a member of the High Table’s far-reaching Assassin’s Guild—is killed under orders from a mysterious figure known only as the Chancellor (Gabriel Byrne). After his death, she’s taken in by the same Romani crime family that once trained John Wick—led again by The Director (showcasing Anjelica Huston's much-needed droll-yet-commanding presence).
When she discovers the Guild behind her father’s death, Eve goes against her oath and embarks on a revenge mission—unleashing a violent chain of events that threatens the uneasy peace between the two factions.
Spin-offs are always tricky. You either risk recycling what’s come before or doing something so different it feels like it doesn’t belong. “Ballerina” attempts the latter. Structurally, it’s markedly different from the “Wick” films. Where John’s backstory was shrouded in mystery (to great effect), Eve gets a near-standard origin story. The pacing reflects this: slower, more deliberate, and—put loosely—more character-driven. But with the “Wick” franchise, “standard” is almost a death sentence. Her motivations are deeper than “you killed my dog”—that much is true—but the film never capitalizes on that complexity. The concept had potential. The execution? Not so much.
This was a famously troubled production, plagued by creative differences and director swaps. Unfortunately, the turmoil is evident on-screen. The film suffers from clunky pacing, unclear character motivations, and an overall lack of focus. The solution? More fight scenes. Lots of them. Back-to-back. Sometimes on top of each other.
And yes, I hear you —“Isn’t that the whole point of a John Wick film?” After all, the original was Keanu Reeves’ love letter to Hong Kong action cinema and practical stunt choreography. Make no mistake, the money for the fight choreography is on the screen. It's in turns brilliant and inspired. But here’s the difference: the fight scenes in “Ballerina” are bloated, draining the energy instead of propelling the story forward. They shift from Game of Death to just... game to death.
Another missing ingredient? Humor. The original “John Wick” worked not just because of its clean action, but because of its tongue-in-cheek approach. The violence was cartoonishly stylized (there was always a sly wink underneath the chaos). In diametric opposition, “Ballerina” takes itself deadly (pun intended) serious, and the miniscule attempts at humor fail to land; which would be fine if it had the emotional weight to match. It doesn’t. And that imbalance undercuts the whole enterprise.
To their credit, the cast gives it everything they’ve got. Ana de Armas throws herself into every fight scene with gusto. Minimal stunt doubles were used, and she’s clearly committed. Unfortunately, for such an expressive actress, she comes off oddly stiff in many scenes. It’s as if the physical demands of the role overpowered the emotional depth needed to sell it.
Ian McShane returns as Winston, providing the same reliable brand of silky gravitas. Lance Reddick makes his final appearance as Charon. While it’s not a showstopper performance, the quiet dignity he brings—especially in retrospect—adds a poignant undercurrent. Gabriel Byrne, who’s made a second career playing suave bastards, is criminally underused. He’s reduced to a narrative placeholder—a living, breathing MacGuffin.
Unfortunately, by the time we get to the end, this reviewer was just as exhausted as the characters—only less invested. What should have been a thrilling expansion of the “Wick” universe plays more like an overlong filler episode.. “Ballerina” had the ingredients to stand on its own: a compelling lead, rich lore, and franchise momentum. What it lacked was restraint, tonal balance, and a reason to care.
It’s no wonder its theatrical run is being cut short. This isn’t a graceful pirouette. It’s a stumble in heels on a slick stage.
Wednesday, February 19, 2025
AMERICAN CULTURE CRITIC PODCAST NO. 7: "The Substance"
We go deep down the rabbit hole in this NSFW podcast. Please note adult themes are tackled. Heavy spoilers abound if you haven't seen it yet.
Honestly, this may be my best show yet. I invite you to give a listen.
Tuesday, November 19, 2024
American Culture Critic Podcast #6: Which Sequel Suffers From The Terrible Twos?
The condition is "sequel-itis" on the latest American Culture Critic podcast, wherein we tackle the "twos" of Joker & Beetlejuice.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EcfOGTJ76Wc&t=5s
Monday, November 4, 2024
Friday, December 8, 2023
THE AMERICAN CULTURE CRITIC PODCAST: A FIRESIDE CHAT
The latest American Culture Critic Podcast is LIVE! A somewhat informal affair wherein I and my producer Adrian De Jesus discuss topics ranging from the state of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the latest cinematic superhero offerings, genre fatigue, The Killers, and Killers of the Flower Moon.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ka6VwSvsDR8
Monday, October 23, 2023
TEN MOVIES THAT MADE AN IMPACT ON ME: SOCIAL MEDIA CHALLENGE REVISITED: DAY 10 – THE KING AND I (1956)
[Back in 2018, there was a social media challenge on Facebook in which a person posted a picture a day for 10 days of 10 films that made an impact on them. However, I went a step beyond and posted an explanation as to why they made that impact. For the sake of posterity, they're being reposted here in their entirety (with some modification/update where warranted)]:
Day 10 of 10 movies that had an impact on me. 10 films that inspired you, 10 days, one image. I was nominated for this challenge by Andrew Baldwin. Y’know what? Fuck it! I challenge all the moderators of FanFreeks.
Others might think differently, but in my estimation Rodgers & Hammerstein shot the proverbial wad with this one; both a helluva production and a helluva film. Yet some assert it would be problematic to produce as it was originally presented so many decades ago. After all, The King of Siam (Yul Brynner), its male lead, was chauvinistic, self-centered, entitled, and stubborn, while the women were presented subserviently.
But in my opinion, those critics miss the point. Mistress Anna (the beguiling Deborah Kerr), the female lead, was anything BUT subservient. Her own person with a strong sense of self, wit, and poise, she was the "very difficult woman" who was progressive in a way that challenged everything the King held dear. The story is more than an (almost) chaste love story between two people of different worlds; it’s also a story of inexorably encroaching progress, and of the pains of generational transition when the old must give way to the new.
In the hands of any other actor, the King would have been insufferable. But no one…absolutely no one…could have ever been more suited to the role than Yul Brynner (it had once been a dream of mine to someday play the role but the closest I ever got was to subtly homage it during living chess games at Vizcaya in 2001). When one discusses charismatic, magnetic performances, his is textbook example. Yet if you pay close attention, the twinkle in his eye and the subtle smirk belies any seriousness his character takes himself. More often than not, he is a brat; a man who balances his responsibility to his people and culture with Pimp Daddy energy. There are moments wherein he’s a mischievous boy in a man’s body; one that’s fearful of this new world and way of life that's encroaching on his beloved nation. He epitomizes a way of life that arguably can no longer survive but instead of embracing change in the form of the beguiling and steely Kerr-as-Anna he rebukes it, sending her away. By not embracing that love…and by extension that way of life…he withers and dies, but not before recognizing and instructing the next generation in the form of his son, to embrace the new ways while remembering the old, for only in that understanding that true progress and prosperity can result. Brynner pulled it off in spectacular fashion, his performance was so beloved he played the role for years even after his initial Broadway run and this performance…a total of 4,625 times on stage (even under excruciating physical duress). It bears mentioning that at the end of the iconic musical number, Brynner and Kerr engage in a primal, erotically passionate stare down that surpasses almost anything else of its kind ever in celluloid, all without word or touch.
The image above exemplifies the film completely. Two people of differing perspectives, each imperious and strong in their own way, but standing together as equals, all smiles (subtle though they be), basking in each other’s presence despite themselves, yet each too stubborn to acknowledge that, despite their differences, they’re stronger together.
In my opinion, there’s never been a greater love story put to film.