Director: Ryan Coogler
Writers: Ryan Coogler, Joe Robert Cole, Stan Lee and Jack Kirby (based on the comics by)
Stars: Chadwick Boseman, Michael B. Jordan, Danai Gurira, Lupita Nyong’o, Letitia Wright, Angela Bassett

Synopsis: T’Challa, after the death of his father, the King of Wakanda, returns home to the isolated, technologically advanced African nation to succeed to the throne and take his rightful place as king.

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Holy Bast.

All RTJ asks of T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman) is to “step into the spotlight.” He abides, and afterward adds four more moves into the act: weave spectacle for the masses, pave a future for his cinematic peers, give representation a mighty chance, and set a formidable seat at the superheroes’ table.

Holy Bast, right?

Contrary to popular belief, Wakanda is real; it’s just hidden behind a force field and the guise of an impoverished, aid-averse, and agrarian nation. Sitting above a deposit of a powerful and readily weaponizable ore called vibranium calls for that kind of security, though. Black Panther takes place post-Civil War, after T’ Chaka (John Kani) has died and T’Challa is ready to sit on the throne. Expectedly, his fitness to be the people’s ruler, as well as their panther-esque guardian, will be tested; the villainous forces being Afrikaner gun monger Ulysses Klaue (Andy Serkis) and former black-ops soldier Erik “Killmonger” Stevens (Michael B. Jordan), an animal that profits from chaos and a warrior who believes the world’s oppressed must be armed to win, respectively.

While Black Panther’s journey will surprise no one in these superhuman-crowded times as this is an origin story, it’s the only thing director Ryan Coogler and company let unfold traditionally. As for the sights, the sounds, the interactions, the personality, and most crucially how a particular emotion is sought—all listen to what the “MCU bible” preaches but interpret the lines in a way like no other. Giving colors to the aesthetics and apparels isn’t novel—see the Guardians of the Galaxy series—yet d.o.p. Rachel Morrison and costume designer Ruth E. Carter, both Oscar nominees, have the hues spell regality rather than funky, character before style. The hero’s complete understanding of responsibilities will no doubt happen, but Coogler and co-writer Joe Robert Cole attach to the process a weight made up of familial dynamics and the sight of the marginalized. One swashbuckling score? Got it, though how about we switch the horn-string duo by melding the sounds the jungle with canopy with that in the jungle built from concrete? The result from composer Ludwig Göransson is outstanding; a marriage of tribal and trap that’s guaranteed to thrill. In all, Black Panther demonstrates the result of letting the oft-overlooked give the formula a whirl—marvelous, pun heck-to-the-yes intended. Statement-making, even.

Then there’s the cast, pouncing onto the scene bursting with impression. The lads are solid—Serkis relishes in being rabid; Boseman summons charisma without breaking a sweat; leave it to Forest Whitaker (as the king’s advisor Zuri) and Daniel Kaluuya (as tribe chief W’Kabi) to nail “quiet grace”—but Jordan goes above and beyond to give the world, ours and MCU’s, its second Loki: compelling, attitude-aplenty, layered, and perpetually on-point delivery. Remember to save your heart from the deep when Killmonger says that haunting line.

That being said, it’s the ladies of Black Panther who ultimately triumph; no one in their crew is someone like Everett Ross (Martin Freeman), or filler. Gorgeously fierce, scalpel-sharp, and—particularly true for the principal trio of security head Okoye (Danai Gurira), spy Nakia (Lupita Nyong’o), and quartermaster/sister Shuri (Letitia Wright)—wholly capable of turning armors into a trend, the actresses make every bit of their screen time matter, flaunting either the sinews that assemble them or the Wakandan spirit that empowers them. And Coogler knows where to best prove the point: a dynamite casino shootout-then-car chase sequence set in the neon-streaked Korean city of Busan. Hooting is almost a must when Okoye scoffs at our “primitive” reliance on guns as bullets fly around her, and later on proves how much of a car-killer her metallic spear can be.

Like every performance, certain things could have been better in retrospect. For Black Panther, must the editing be that hectic when Coogler, as seen in Creed, understands that jumpiness doesn’t necessarily correlate to ramping up the excitement? And at times, in the service of clarity, CGI replaces Boseman’s performance without shame, turning what is envisioned as rugged into rubbery. Thankfully, we can, and will, let them slide, for the panther seldom loses momentum and there’s a pattern of a peak provided after a dip. By the end, we shall stand, perhaps cheer as if the Astros just win again, as a testament to how enthralling and precedent-setting the past 134 minutes have been.

Yes, you better hail. This royally blooded cat does not play.

Overall Grade: A

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Hear our podcast review on Episode 261.

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Director: Will Gluck
Writers: Rob Lieber, Will Gluck, Beatrix Potter (based on)
Stars: James Corden, Domhnall Gleeson, Rose Byrne, Daisy Ridley, Elizabeth Debicki

Synopsis: Feature adaptation of Beatrix Potter’s classic tale of a rebellious rabbit trying to sneak into a farmer’s vegetable garden.

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Start repeating this: “Other than the name, this rabbit ain’t the same.” Save for two sequences where Sony Pictures’ take on the jacket-wearing hopper mirrors Beatrix Potter’s—hand-drawn and tonally gentle—the film operates between fourth and fifth gears. Why, yes—that equates to an ill interpretation of the source material, but if we’re still doing our repeating, “why, yes” is also the answer to whether this Peter Rabbit deserves at least one watch. Surprise.

The grandest jolt, however, is that of Mr. McGregor (Sam Neill), the horticulturist archnemesis of Peter (James Corden), being carried away by an “ice-cream truck with all the lights” for good. Ain’t that a fine cue to party, or wreck the house, with other members of the burrow — Benjamin Bunny (Colin Moody) and the triplet Flopsy (Margot Robbie), Mopsy (Elizabeth Debicki), and Cotton-Tail (Daisy Ridley)—and fellow garden dwellers (from Potter’s other anthropomorphic tales). It’s not veggie-ever-after yet as Mr. McGregor’s temper-prone and meticulous nephew, Thomas (Domhnall Gleeson), is coming, and he’s planning to have the house in top form to put it on the market.

Lotsa changes and removals there, though the vibrant color-book aesthetics remain untouched. Wise is the person bringing Roger Ford on board, the production designer who has in his résumé every installment of Narnia and of, in many ways Peter Rabbit’s twice-removed cousin, Babe. The scenery is the film’s sole note of tranquility, a detail one might overlook—and, in a sense, deliberately made so—as afterward Animal Logic’s rather-impressively detailed critters will trample onto the scene, dash away, drop hits (ever curious what the ‘Animals and Greens’ remix of Fort Minor’s Remember the Name sounds like?), and engage in lawn warfare. Amid the constant buffet of frenziness, d.o.p. Peter Menzies Jr.’s zippy, mainly low-hanging camera is never a laggard, which means the act of reminding oneself that on the screen is Peter Rabbit and not Clash of the Titans will be frequent.

Frankly, it’s easier to do the latter than falling in love with Peter—unless “young and reckless” is still “it,” relationship-wise. Corden is a most-fitting choice to exude the confidence-drunk, overtly sharp and quip-crazed personality blend, as evident in those Late Late’s skits, but in turn those slower, emotional beats—Peter has feelings for McGregor’s neighbor, the radiant Picasso-wannabe Bee (Rose Byrne)—feel borderline out of place and strokes of humility come across as filler despite Dominic Lewis’ background score ardently trying to prove the opposite. Still, good on director Will Gluck—admirably diversifying his range with animation after a musical and many comedies—to not ask his human cast channel Alvin’s Jason Lee, and so there’s a presence of merriment from seeing General Hux channeling his klutzier persona and how kind Rayna Boyanov has become post Spy.

“The way they put [the tagline] ‘Rascal Rebel Rabbit’ so prominently there makes me thought that was the title,” whispered the man in the front row—twice—to his wife seconds before the Sony logo pops up. He’s not exactly wrong. Yet, he rollicks through the film at its best—a few lines and two running gags, one of a father-to-be rooster and to-be-interrupted sparrow chorus, are genuinely amusing—and its worst—foiled “plumber’s crack” attack, radio-station mentality, and regular bouts of self-congratulation, as with the majority of the auditorium. Guess people are aware that this is the U.S. version of Peter Rabbit after all.

Overall Grade: B-

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