In 2017, Zack Snyder abruptly left the director’s chair on Justice League following the unspeakable tragedy of his daughter’s suicide. Too heartbroken to find the fight in him to deal with studio executives who were increasingly putting pressure on him to change his intentions for the project, the reins were handed over to Joss Whedon. The result was Whedon more or less taking over the film, doing a number of reshoots to add more humor (some might say “to make it more like Marvel”), but with Snyder still receiving top billing (Whedon would be given a screenwriting credit).

Which is to say that the theatrical version was a different beast entirely from what Snyder was aiming for, with Whedon’s edition serving as a breezy, fun extravaganza which intentionally or not played like a nostalgia-fueled tribute to superhero movies of the 90s. “One misses the days of wind-up exploding penguins,” Alfred lamented in a moment exclusive to Whedon’s film, as though longing for the more simplistic days of Batman Returns and Superman: The Movie where good and evil were clearly defined and moral grayness was almost nonexistent (this was further exemplified by Danny Elfman’s score). And, in many ways, that’s what it gave us–rather successfully, I would argue.

Yet even as someone who has been quite vocal in defending–and even loving–what we got (I’ve also been a champion for Solo: A Star Wars Story, so maybe I have a soft spot for patchwork productions), I’d still say there was something missing from it, something hard to define. For one thing, as much as I enjoyed it, the tonal shift between it and the much-darker Batman v Superman was more than a bit jarring, as it functioned less like a continuation of what Snyder was doing and more like the Diet Coke equivalent of Whedon’s own Avengers–which, in fairness to him, was probably exactly what he was brought aboard to do. While I think it’s hogwash to claim the now-popular narrative that Justice League was “universally hated” upon its release is an accurate one (I watched it in theaters twice with audiences who laughed and cheered at the right places), it didn’t feel quite epic enough, and didn’t land as the “big event” that it ultimately should have.

A couple of years and several fan petitions and hashtags later, and we finally have Zack Snyder’s Justice League–or The Snyder Cut as fans will almost certainly refer to it as–a bigger, badder, better vision of what came before. Amazingly, in spite or perhaps because it has pretty much the same plot (and most of the footage) of what we got in theaters, it’s like experiencing a film you haven’t watched. It’s longer than The Irishman,  but it feels at least an hour shorter, and many might be surprised by what an easy sit it actually is (for those with sore bottoms, there are convenient Quentin Tarantino-style “chapters” for easy breaks). It never allows for things to go too long without an action scene of some sort, but gives its characters some breathing room between each titanic battle, making the excitement even more effective than it was in the so-called “Whedon Cut.”

So if you liked the original film, you’re probably going to like this even more. If you didn’t like it, you still might enjoy this cut, which provides more of, well, everything. The drama has more weight, the punches have more impact, and perhaps most importanly, the stakes are much higher. There’s simply more “gravity” to the storytelling here, whether it’s Wonder Woman taking down British terrorists with more intensity and force, or Batman choosing to have Superman brought back from the dead, which here is highlighted as a risky and even borderline terrifying action which could have grave consequences for everyone in the future (something which no doubt would’ve been elaborated on if the intended sequels had been made).

What you’re essentially getting is Justice League, but with far more explanation points(!!!), yet at the same time Snyder’s film has plenty of quieter moments which almost resemble the delicate intimacy of arthouse cinema. It’s like Avengers: Endgame if it hadn’t waited two hours to get to the fireworks.

And while many of the goofier jokes Whedon added are not to be found here (and aren’t terribly missed, even if some of them were pretty funny), this is at the end of the day a more lighthearted outing than Batman v Superman (not to mention more accessible), feeling appropriately comfortable with itself while not abandoning entirely what that movie had already established. As a director, Snyder displays full confidence, delivering interpretations of these classic characters that feel more traditional than what he’s done before, while managing to maintain what made his takes on them feel unique to his universe.

In other words, Snyder gets to have his cake and eat it too, with the extended running time allowing him to balance the childlike enthusiasm he brings to his fisticuffs (of which there are plenty) with the more mature filmmaking he demonstrated in Watchmen. For instance, Lois Lane’s grief over Clark’s passing gets to be explored much further here, as she takes the same walk to Superman’s memorial repeatedly, unable to motivate herself to go back to work, but giving her life some level of a foundation by buying a police officer a cup of coffee every day. It’s discreetly poignant, a deceivingly simple gesture of kindness on her part which she’s most likely not giving herself enough credit for. It’s little touches like this that make this Justice League feel fully fleshed out, and all the more emotionally rewarding for it.

Speaking of fleshing things out, Steppenwolf gets a full special effects makeover, and a lot more to do. Emphasized as a servant to Darkseid with slavish devolution to him, Steppenwolf becomes a character plagued by pain, his eyes constantly haunted even as he’s carrying out his overlord’s attacks. He’s also a lot more violent this time, with the R rating providing permission for him to kill a lot more people than he could with a PG-13 in theaters (although even with a fair amount of blood splattering, this is a pretty tame R). Darkseid, of course, was only name-dropped in the theatrical version, but does get to make a few notable appearances here, looking towering, menacing, and cool.

Much of the new content focuses on The Flash and especially Cyborg, whose backstory–similar in execution to Dr. Manhattan’s in Watchmen–takes up a good amount of the film’s focus. A welcome addition in an extended edition, it’s easy to justify why this was removed from the theatrical version simply for the sake of time and pacing (of course, that’s not taking into account the much publicized alleged feud that took place between Whedon and Fisher during production). Other removals are more confusing, such as a cameo by Willem Dafoe which serves as a teaser to 2018’s Aquaman and would’ve worked as a nice set up to that in the original cut.

If there’s anything about Zack Snyder’s Justice League that might disappoint some fans, it’s that most of the film’s action beats were already in Whedon’s version, with a breathtaking sequence involving Flash rescuing a young girl from being run over by a truck being the only one that’s completely new. That being said, all of the fights have been amplified and expanded upon, with horses being thrown further, bodies falling down harder, and every kick and gunshot feeling fiercer. This is all greatly enhanced by a brand new musical score from Tom Holkenborg, which increases the adrenaline factor where it really counts.

It’s also a wonder how much the muted color palate helps this feel different from the original movie, with Snyder thankfully removing the bizarre glaring red sky that Whedon added to the climatic conflict. It also works remarkably well in 4:3 framing, giving everything a subtly retro feel which–intentionally or not–makes it resemble a film viewed on VHS presented in the pan and scan format.

It’s fitting, in a way, that Snyder chooses to end his opus on a cliffhanger, teasing the creation of what might’ve been while still managing to find contentment in doing so. Zack Snyder’s Justice League has the shadow what came before looming over it, the existence of Whedon’s meddling with it both inviting comparison  to it and almost taunting it like a cartoon shoulder devil.

But it overcomes all of this and triumphs as an individual creative vindication, albeit on a bittersweet level, with the spirit of Snyder’s daughter floating over it like a halo, her presence being felt frequently throughout the film as it’s probably no coincidence that grief, fatherly love and affection are among its most consistent themes. Given its rousing nature, I was initially wanting to clap once the movie’s end titles started rolling (to clarify, I was alone and in front of my laptop and it was past 3:00 AM), but instead my silence was demanded as Snyder dedicates them to his loss, with Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah being played quietly on a piano as it was his daughter’s favorite song.

Whether you love Zack Snyder’s Justice League or hate it, you have to respect its existence.

But I may have just discovered a major downside.

Based only on the original teaser, I went into Disney’s latest animated feature, Raya and the Last Dragon, expecting a Mulan-style fun-but-serious action adventure film set in a foreign land with a diverse cast. Those of you who watched the rest of the trailers were much better prepared for the actuality of what we got. I, however, was stunned. Imagine going into a theatre to watch what you assume with be the next The Lord of the Rings, but getting the next A Troll in Central Park instead.

I really don’t know if I can articulate just how bad this film was measured against my expectations. I usually don’t like to spoil much about a movie, but to make my point, let me just share some of the actual dialogue in this film — remembering that I assumed we were getting something a lot more dramatic and profound than this.

— “That was awesome! Gimme some shell!”
— Two characters talking about how much they like dragons:
      “I’m a bit of a dragon nerd.”
      “Well I’m the one wearing the fan necklace!”
— “Here’s the sitch…”
— Describing how good a swimmer the character is:
      “Imma wicked when I hit that liquid!”
— “Bling is my thing.”
— “This beetle has a booty!”
— “Super flow plan, amirite?

Before you think, “well those were probably all from side characters”, let me disabuse you of that notion. Four of those lines were spoken by Raya herself.

While watching the film and taking notes, I came up with two perfect encapsulations of what I was seeing and how I might be able to describe it later. The first is simply, “Raya and the Last Dragon is Mulan — if every character were Mushu.” The recent live-action Mulan ruined what made a lot of the original so good by losing the fun. But that classic film would have been just as marred by replacing all the gravitas in the story with quipping.

The second comes from the eighth season of The Simpsons. There is an animated show within the show that the Simpson children watch called The Itchy & Scratchy Show. Think Tom and Jerry with the violence ratcheted up 500%. When the producers of the show want to make the cartoon appeal to what they believe modern audiences want, they add a new hip dog character named Poochie to the cat and mouse team. Here’s the conversation the executives have:

“We at the network want a dog with attitude. He’s edgy, he’s ‘in your face’. You’ve heard the expression, ‘let’s get busy’? Well, this is a dog who gets ‘biz-zay’! Consistently and thoroughly.”

“So he’s proactive, huh?”

“Oh, God, yes. We’re talking about a totally outrageous paradigm.”

The wise-cracking supposedly trendy dog does not fit at all into what the audience of the show has come to know, love, and expect and Poochie is hated by all.

I can completely imagine higher-ups at Disney having a similar conversation as The Itchy & Scratchy producers! “Today’s girls want a princess with attitude. She’s hip, she’s in your face. We’re talking about a totally outrageous paradigm.” Perhaps some evidence of this idea can be seen after the film, where a possibly unprecedented four directors are credited, as well as eight writers! That’s literally the definition of film by committee.

Another issue I had with the story was with the setting. As an Air Force brat back in the day, I made a lot of school friends from Southeast Asia at one of my father’s postings. I was looking forward to seeing the cultural influences I remembered from growing up with them in the first Disney animated film set in that region. But unlike Mulan which really felt like it took place in China or Coco which had a definite Mexican influence, Raya and the Last Dragon felt much more generic in its environs and inspirations. To be fair, I suspect the dialogue issues I had may have taken me out of movie too much to appreciate the impact of the setting they were going for.

Compared to the above, a relatively minor nitpick I noticed with the plot was the characters had a little too easy of a time getting through it. I’ve spoiled enough already, but when watching the film note the stops the hero makes on her way to the end and consider what she had to do at each to accomplish her goal. If you boil them down to their essence, she really didn’t do much at all at each step, making the journey feel a bit anticlimactic.

Despite all those issues, this though was probably the worst. There was actually a really good story hidden underneath all this. The underlying mythology created for the film about dragons and the evil spirits and the magic orb and the five tribes could have been epic. Should have been epic! This was a story that could have supported being one Disney’s best animated films ever. But they took this phenomenal idea and put the worst characters and dialogue on top of it. Which is almost unforgivable based on what could have been. As if that weren’t bad enough, even the movie’s over-aching message was admirable, but was all but lost amongst the wisecracking until near the end.

Let’s turn to something done extremely well in this film: the animation. Disney went all out in this respect and it shows up on the screen. The character designs are so well done. The first time we meet Raya’s father I had to pause the film to ensure the animators weren’t cheating with some kind of live-action hybrid! And the locales and backgrounds were beautiful, even if I wish they had gone a little further with the Southeast Asian designs. I wasn’t enamored by the look of the dragons. But the design of the Druun spirits were very well done and so unique and appropriately eerie.

The voice acting in the film was… okay. Don’t get me wrong. All the actors did perfectly fine jobs — with what they were given. And I’m actually a fan of most of these actors outside this film. But that dialogue! I don’t feel like it’s fair to blame the actors for their performances when it’s the words they were saying I take issue with.

Raya and the Last Dragon had so much potential. An unplumbed setting for an animated film, a deep and interesting foundational legend to build off of, a good message, amazing animation, a great cast of actors, and all the resources Disney can provide. All of it squandered because somewhere along the way, someone suggested they give audiences a princess who gets “biz-zay” rather than a hero on the regular. (Yes those last three words are another quote from Raya herself.)

The idea of SpongeBob’s pet snail Gary disappearing and SpongeBob and his friend Patrick having to leave their home in Bikini Bottom to search for him was done previously in a popular episode of the series in 2005 titled Have You Seen This Snail? This was no ordinary episode either. Nickelodeon gave it a huge promotional push with it’s own special, a month-long commercial campaign, and a contest. A Tony Award winner wrote and performed a song just for the episode. It ended up as one of the most watched shows on TV for the entire year among kids, only behind the Super Bowl. Sure in the TV episode Gary runs away and here Gary is snail-napped. But it still feels a little too similar an idea for a big budget feature film to rehash one of the most well known episodes from its small screen counterpart.

Putting that aside, the story itself is sloppily put together. Instead of one coherent through line, the plot consists of several mini-stories that aren’t well connected. Spoilers ahead! We get stories about: Plankton trying to steal the Krabby Patty formula; the king needing a snail; SpongeBob and Patrick going to look for Gary after he’s taken; a strange and completely unnecessary trip to an old west town with zombies; Mr. Krabs, Squidward, Sandy, and Plankton going to look for Spongebob after realizing how much they miss him; a night in Atlantic City; a trial; a cloying musical number about how everyone loves SpongeBob; and flashbacks to when all the main characters were much younger and at a summer camp. While there is plenty of humor in some of these storylines, they don’t feel like they’re from a single movie, but are instead just a bunch of leftover TV show storyboards slapped together.

Perhaps the worst part of the film is the fact that it seems like it was created by some corporate entity looking to launch a spin-off series to keep that SpongeBob money rolling in, rather than to be actually entertaining as a standalone movie for the long time fans of the franchise. The previously mentioned summer camp storyline sets up the Paramount+ series Kamp Koral. Every flashback in the film itself was clumsily set up, and none of them was remotely funny. They all featured the same conceit, showing SpongeBob being kind to someone he just met and therefore becoming lifelong friends. Between all the sickly-sweetness of the SpongeBob love-fest by the other characters in the movie proper and the preschool-like gentleness of the flashback scenes, too much of Sponge on the Run felt more like a Blue’s Clues movie than what fans have come to expect and love about the show.

The animation in this film has switched from the old-school-looking 2D style used on the series to 3D-CG-style used by almost all major animation studios today. While it is beautiful and extremely well done, the change is not an improvement at all when it comes to the characters themselves. With the CG animation, they gain a little too much gravity, making their movement slightly more lumbering and heavy than the freer, lighter way they moved on TV. And facial expressions lose a lot of the frenetic and fun energy they used to have, and instead feel more rigid and rubbery.

As I’ve mentioned previously on this site, I’m a huge fan of SpongeBob. So maybe I’m being a bit harder than others might be on this film. But with a mess of a story, a spinoff angle that felt forced in, and an over-the-top and embarrassing attempt to almost canonize the main character, there’s no denying fans of the show deserved better. Feel free to run from this sponge.

(Speaking of rehashing, apparently I could have just taken the review I wrote for the last movie and changed a few of the plot points to fit this film!)

Joe Gardner is an aspiring jazz pianist, who has had to settle as a part-time middle school band teacher. His obsession with the music he loves ends up causing an accident that sends him on a path to The Great Beyond. Looking for a way back to Earth, he meets a soul waiting to be born who doesn’t want to go. They devise a plan to get what they each want… that, of course, goes completely off track.

I think it’s important to say right up front that Soul is not your typical American animated film. Even for Pixar, this one is much more on the heavy side. It’s definitely got humor and fun. But a lot of the enjoyment to be had comes from watching the development of the characters and pondering the deep questions being considered. That is not a put-down! Go in ready to be stimulated and you’re going to enjoy the movie. Go in expecting a laugh-fest, you’re going to be disappointed.

With that out of the way, the story is almost pitch-perfect. Unfortunately for me, it’s hard to convey what exactly I thought worked so well without spoiling things. But, as usual, I will try my best!

In a somewhat surprising move, Joe is sent on his way to The Great Beyond before the opening credits. We as an audience have barely gotten a chance to get to know him. However, that choice works well as a storytelling device since it allows us to see his life from the point of view of others, not from his own biased perspective. We hear from him how his life was, then watch as he sees it from a different vantage point. We realize at the same time as he does that he wasn’t always seeing things as they truly were. And that connects us with what he is going through. The yet-to-be-born soul, named 22, may be on the opposite side of the divide, but she’s playing the same song as Joe. She’s never experienced life, but considers herself an expert on how terrible it is. She too is forced to see things with fresh eyes. Having two seemingly discordant characters each taking an opposite side of a position, but in reality going through the exact same experience makes the story-telling all the more engaging.

As I wrote earlier this year in my review of Onward, one of my favorite things about certain Pixar movies is what I call their “subversive wisdom”, for lack of a better phrase. Hollywood has simplistic morals that usually get repeated over and over again in media for kids. Pixar sometimes gives kids a little more nuanced message. In Soul, the lesson repeated for most of the film sounds exactly like what you would expect in a cartoon: “find your spark, your purpose in life”. But by the end of the story, the writers have turned that messaging into something much more interesting, meaningful, and complex for those paying attention.

A major issue one might have with the plot revolves around an unavoidable problem when doing a story with characters moving between life and after-life: how do you get them back and forth? Pixar has come up with their own way, and, like anything they might have come up with, if you think about it too long you can come up with several large plot holes. As much as I hate to say it, in a story like this you have to kind of ignore some of that. As long as the writers make rules about how their version of this world works and they stick to it, I think you have to give them some leeway to riff.

Another thing viewers might debate is that ending. There were so many different directions they could have went in, all of which were potentially set up. I obviously can’t say more, but after reflection I did agree with the ending they composed though I did find it surprising at first. If you aren’t happy with it, it might help to think back on that subversive wisdom.

Big picture, I love the ambition Pixar showed in green-lighting a story like this. This is a film that could have went wrong in so many ways. This is the Pixar we all remember! The studio that made a movie with no talking for the first thirty minutes! The studio that made a movie with rats in a kitchen cooking and made it beautiful! The studio that made a movie with a geriatric lead character! The studio that put their most popular characters into an incinerator holding hands as they faced certain death — and we all knew if any studio had the guts to actually kill some of their characters off it would be Pixar! So I applaud them for even taking the risk on Soul. They took a crazy concept and an idea with a huge scope and made it relatable the same way they always do — by focusing it all down onto a small number of characters we come to care about.

The animation in Soul is some of the most beautiful and interesting in the Pixar canon — and some of the most diverse as well. As in Ratatouille, where the city of Paris was almost a character in and of itself, here the spirit of New York City is palpable in every scene it is featured in. Like the actual city itself, these scenes are filled with life and have a wonderful lived in quality that sometimes is hard to capture in computer animation. The land of the souls-in-waiting is plush and has a beautifully hopeful feel to it. The path to The Great Beyond is stark and eerily stunning. Like the locales, the character designs are equally appealing and varied. Joe and his fellow humans are some of the most detailed Pixar has ever given life to. The souls are at the same time playful and ethereal without seeming like ghosts. The soul counselors deserve special praise. Their Picasso-esque designs were extremely compelling and their animation and movement were a lot of fun.

Like the animation, the music of Soul features a mix of styles. Unlike Coco, another Pixar film with a focus on music, here everything blended well without feeling forced. Jon Batiste handled the jazz sections of the film while Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross focused on the score, specifically those parts in the metaphysical realm. While maybe not always as immediately hummable as a Newman or Giacchino score, in the film both styles worked just as effectively and really helped sell the authenticity of each world.

I believe a voice cast works best when you never even think about the actors themselves. While I of course knew Jamie Foxx was playing Joe, after a few minutes that fact never crossed my mind again. And I had completely forgot about Tina Fey’s involvement so wasn’t even aware of her until the end credits. Both roles were very well voiced. And while the duo may not be as iconic as other Pixar buddies, that is more down to the film itself rather than the performances.

Soul is a film with lofty aspirations, and it hits the high notes almost every time — with incredible animation, captivating music, and an engrossing plot. While it’ll make you think a lot more than it will make you laugh, the end result is a virtuoso performance. And at the very end of a year like this one, we can all use a reminder about how precious life is and that we should make the most of the time we’re given.

ZooPhobia primarily followed a neurotic young woman named Cameron. Out of desperation for a job, she unwittingly became a permanent resident in a magical world filled with talking animals and mythical creatures. The trouble was that Cameron suffered from a terrible case of zoophobia and was now serving as a guidance counselor at Zoo Phoenix Academy, where the very presence of its students and staff scare her. Medrano began publishing ZooPhobia in 2012, but put the comic on pause by 2016 to focus on her Patreon page and developing Hazbin Hotel. Now able to continue the series some more, she has developed an animated short film in Bad Luck Jack.

Bad Luck Jack is a 12-minute short that seemingly looks that the day in the life of Jackson Wells. Jack seems like any other shy and gentle canine student at Zoo Phoenix Academy. Unfortunately, he is cursed with eternal bad luck. At any moment, a terrible accident will befall him. What’s depressing is that he is essentially immortal. So while he can instantly heal from every wound including dismemberment, he will forever feel pain and be regularly hurt by everything that happens to him. When the curse badly depresses him one day, his best friend Zill takes it upon himself to do what he can to cheer him up and tries to protect Jack from the incoming accidents.

Whereas Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss were adult shows that were not family-friendly in the slightest, certainly not when both are set in Hell, Bad Luck Jack is essentially the equivalent to a Disney Channel program like High School Musical. Even with instances of bones sticking out for a few seconds or dismemberment after Jack suffers a terrible accident, it is super tame and actually rather wholesome. There’s virtually no blood as the would-be violent effects are very cartoony in nature, like classic Disney and Loony Tunes. The short also happens to contain hardly any sexual references and lacks profanity, making it far more accessible for families to watch.

It is becoming a signature of Medrano’s to be able to independently develop a production with high quality animation and Bad Luck Jack is no different. The crew she has been able to assemble continue to astonish with such beautiful visual designs. Perhaps because the short is more wholesome than Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss that everything on screen is incredibly colorful and vibrant in comparison. And yet Medrano and her dedicated crew take great care to ensure each scene is not an assault on the eyes. All the while maintaining an appealing look that is wonderfully defined and detailed. It’s very easy to pause often just to examine and appreciate.

One does not really need to know much about ZooPhobia to get into and easy follow Bad Luck Jack. Medrano and co-writer Amanda Heard crafted the story to focus pretty much squarely on Jack and keep things simple so that it serves more of an introduction to viewers new to the series. There are sure to be some questions asked that the short doesn’t quite answer, such as why Jack wears a cast if he has instant regeneration, or what exactly kind of creature Zill is supposed to be. Fortunately, they’re not really a distraction to the overall storytelling. I imagine other questions, like why Jack is cursed, would be enough to interest folks into checking out the comic.

The characters do come off as rather stereotypical of Disney Channel troupes, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re any less fun. Jack may seem like any other shy, kind-hearted teen, but the fact that he will forever painfully suffer makes him very sympathetic. Zill is the good-at-everything best friend with genuine sincerity and humbleness that makes him pleasant. A stand-out is Zill’s girlfriend Kayla, a kangaroo whose Australian accent and vocabulary makes her unique to hear as much as watching her caring nature. There are other characters with defined personalities, but little time is spent on them due to the nature of the story’s focus on Jack and the short runtime.

Speaking of the voices, the cast do a pretty good bringing the characters to life. Bryson Baugus hits the right tones to further add sympathy to Jack, though it’s not hard to imagine he might be channeling his best Tom Holland. Joe Zieja works perfectly fine as Zill. I wouldn’t call it generic as it sounded like he was putting a little spin to the voice so that it would not seem as stereotypical as the personality would be. And it’s quite fun to hear Reba Buhr as Kayla because it’s a voice not normally heard from a love interest of a main character. Certainly unexpected after hearing her singing voice, which is provided by Miraculous star Cristina Vee.

Saying that Bad Luck Jack is like High School Musical is more than just an analogy. Medrano has become publicly known for her love of musicals, so it should be no surprise that there are three catchy songs that are fun to hear. The pop romance duet “Make a Start” that opens the short would very much fit like a glove in High School Musical. “The Curse” makes for a nice teen angst ballad that defines Jack’s character quite well. Those two songs, written by Sam Haft, would be perfect molds for Disney Channel programs, while Parry Gripp’s “Monster Fighting Time” is as delightfully goofy as would be expected, and that’s before the sudden lyrical shift.

Following up on the success of the adult Hazbin Hotel, as well as the equally adult Helluva Boss, it’s nice to see Medrano develop something more wholesome with a return to her web comic, ZooPhobia. Bad Luck Jack is a nice little short and is very easy to follow without needing previous knowledge of ZooPhobia. The characters and story may seem typical of Disney Channel programs, so those not fond of such may not enjoy this. Yet there’s no denying the beautiful high quality animation Medrano and her crew continue to produce. Alongside three catchy songs, Bad Luck Jack is a perfectly enjoyable creature that is fun to watch and not fear.

Most probably know the core story of Mulan. The daughter of a father too old to partake in military action, she disguised herself as a man to go in his place. The animated feature saw her fighting Hun invading China. The live-action feature sees her taking on Rouran warriors, one of the leaders Böri Khan seeking to avenge his father’s death at the hands of the Emperor. Whereas the animated feature saw Mulan have a dragon sidekick in Mushu, the live-action feature has Mulan occasionally guided by a vision of her family’s ancestral phoenix.

Right off the bat, its clear director Niki Caro and her writers wanted to use the animated feature as an inspirational template and weave their own iteration. They wanted to build upon the challenges Mulan faced living in a society where women were treated in a way that debilitated strengths she possessed. As such, the character of Xianniang is designed as a possible dark mirror, a witch shunned by society for daring to rise above her place as her gender dictates and ultimately uses her powers in service of the enemy.

I admired this approach with the storytelling. This is especially the case with the live-action feature lacking a sidekick to give Mulan pep talks and encouragements. Instead, she has to weigh the consequences of her actions upon the virtues of being loyal, brave, and true. It is an honest attempt at applying further depth to the character beyond what was presented in the animated film. To some degree it kind of works. I found the problem to be that it affects the pacing of the narrative in a way that other aspects get downplayed.

If the animated feature had a lovely cast of characters, the live-action feature really only had two in Mulan and Xianniang. Everyone else comes off either in a stereotypical manner or are just bland. Which makes the attempt for Mulan to earn the respect of her fellow comrades less emotional and by-the-book. And while she does have some depth, it’s actually not enough for Xianniang to be a more fascinating character than the film ends up making her out to be. Beyond Mulan, you really don’t know much about all of the other characters to enjoy them.

Which is a shame because I feel only some of the actors where able to make do with what they were given. Yifei Liu really isn’t bad as Mulan, in my opinion, and does a nice job playing the scenes with the right tone when needed. Gong Li is great as Xianniang whenever she is able to shine. And Jet Li is actually quite fun any time he shows up as the Emperor. Donnie Yen, Jason Scott Lee, Tzi Ma, and Cheng Pei-pei do enough to be enjoyable as respectively Commander Tung, Böri Khan, Mulan’s father Zhou, and the Matchmaker.

One thing that the live-action feature has going for it is the beautiful cinematography. Mandy Walker does a wonderful job in photographing with an eye for making each scene vibrant and colorful without being a distraction. In one instance where Mulan and Xianniang encounter each other for the first time, the texture of the landscape around them is very unique and provides a different kind of energy to how the scene is viewed. And I personally think it was a good call for Mulan’s key color scheme to be red as it framed her quite well.

The action sequences were quite nicely done. Caro doesn’t try to go overboard with them nor does she diminish their importance to the narrative. It’s enough to maintain a pace that allows the film to move along. Some might get put off by the occasional camera rotation during some of the fight scenes, but I wasn’t too bothered by them. And I’m sure many wished there was a lot more wuxia inspiration, but I’d rather they went with what they were comfortable with versus trying to apply the genre archetypes in a way that might’ve end up looking bad.

Lacking songs like in the animated feature, the live-action feature would rely a lot on the score by Harry Gregson-Williams. It works well enough to bolster each scene with the appropriate mood, certainly during the action sequences. It’s not quite groundbreaking and are primarily memorable for the traces of “Reflection” sprinkled throughout. Nevertheless, the score as a whole is nice and rather soothing to listen to with what’s playing on the screen. As for the one new song, the end credits “Loyal Brave True” by Christina Aguilera, it’s fine.

I wouldn’t go so far as to call Mulan a disappointment. I wouldn’t call it great either. The attempts to make this stand-out from the animated original and craft its own story with some depth to the character is admirable. And it is a visually stunning film by its own right. It’s just that most everything else lacked the kind of energy needed to make it exciting. The film is merely okay and aspects of the narrative were not connecting as well as they should have. Upon reflection, this version of Mulan may not quite be “a girl worth fighting for”.

Back in 2016, DreamWorks Animation released Trolls, a movie which almost no one expected to be good which ended up being an extremely pleasant surprise. Opening towards the end of what had been a particularly divisive election year, Trolls served as a bowl of sprinkle-frosted musical niceness with just enough of an edge to keep it from being overly sweet. Almost everyone in the story–even the creatures who wanted to devour its hairy heroes–was ultimately sympathetic, resulting in an almost defiantly non-cynical outing which worked as a plea for empathy at a time when audiences needed just that. Suffice it to say, I liked Trolls (something regular readers of this website might recall I’ve mentioned multiple times here), and a whole lot of other people did as well, perhaps making the announcement of a sequel inevitable.

Of course, when Trolls World Tour was first put into production, no one was probably counting on all movie theaters (well, with the exception of a couple of drive-ins) being closed at the time of its intended release date. Though unlike other studios, which have chosen to delay the theatrical runs of their would-be blockbusters, Universal decided to skip that route entirely, choosing to release the follow-up straight-to-streaming as a digital rental. This was an unprecedented move, one which wasn’t met without controversy, but it is what it is, which makes Trolls World Tour something of a surreal experience as it stands.

For me at least, it felt weird watching an expensive animated movie which was meant to be viewed on the big screen on my laptop, without the company of fellow audience members, which is part of the communal ritual of the cinema. Is this merely an experiment or the new normal? Time will tell with that one, but so far, the only other tentpoles to find themselves officially taken off the theatrical calendar are Disney’s big budget fantasy caper Artemis Fowl (which will now premiere as a Disney+ exclusive) and the animated SCOOB!, which is following in Trolls’s tiny footsteps and will be an On Demand release as well.

Having said that, if there’s a case to be made for a new movie being made available now during a time of global crisis, it’s something like Trolls World Tour, which works as the sort of candy-colored escapism that may be exactly what the doctor ordered right now to momentarily pull people out of quarantine-induced doldrums. As a sequel it’s pleasant and brisk–maybe a little too brisk as, at 90 minutes including a 10 minute-long credit crawl, it feels a tad on the short side–functioning as completely harmless entertainment, albeit on a non-demanding level.

Does it reach the same unexpectedly poignant notes of the original? Probably not. In fact, if anything, the main shortcoming of World Tour is that it ultimately can’t quite measure up to most of the first film’s charms, even if it manages to come close to them. There’s still all of the Twizzlers-friendly pleasure that you loved (or maybe didn’t) about the previous adventure, but it’s missing some of its nutritional value, providing a suitable sugar rush without necessarily being especially filling.

Granted, I used an extremely similar allegory in my review of Trolls from when it was brand new, but it was probably meatier than I gave it credit for at the time, with helpful messages not only about the importance of everyone having the right to experience joy, but also that we are often very happy even when we perceive ourselves of leading dreary lives. World Tour starts fast and very rarely slows down, but the stakes feel slightly less high this time around, not just because no one is at risk of becoming a meal here, but because supposed villain Queen Barb, with her 80’s haircut and electric guitar, is so gosh darn likable that she’s rarely able to be particularly threatening.

I will stress that I am not saying this as a complaint, as Barb–voiced with delightful punk enthusiasm by Rachel Bloom–is easily one of the film’s highlights (her barely mobile father is also voiced by Ozzy Osbourne, which is either a nice touch or something that wasn’t needed depending on who you ask). If the secret weapon of Trolls was its own self-awareness over it potentially being very annoying to certain viewers, than the ace up World Tour’s sleeve is sheer appeal. There are no boo-hiss bad guys, no characters deserving of horrible fates, and even when a betrayal takes place, it’s less played for gasps and more for giggles for its absurdity when it does happen.

And just like last time, a large part of this is due to its heroine. Once again, Anna Kendrick plays Poppy perfectly, her voice full of such genuine affection and empathy towards those around her that she reacts to negativity with confusion or even disdain. Working as a contrast to this is Branch, who may be a bit less of a grouch than he used to be, but remains amusingly irritable. I will admit that I’m not sure how I feel about the “romance” that develops between the two–I rather liked that they were allowed to develop a meaningful relationship without becoming lovers–but it’s a plot element the film never finds a way to deliver on, making it almost come across as an afterthought. Familiar faces from the first Trolls also tag along for the ride, but this is mainly the Poppy and Branch show, with only a street-smart Country Troll voiced by Sam Rockwell playing a major role.

Of course, the most successful aspect of Trolls might’ve been its soundtrack, so it should come as no surprise that World Tour features plenty of songs, with modern variants on everything from Who Let the Dogs Out? to Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. There are, however, fewer lavish musical numbers to be found here, but that’s not to say there aren’t some original tunes, including a hilariously bleak country ballad sung by Kelly Clarkson. What’s missing is an iconic “Can’t Stop the Feeling” or “Get Back Up Again” to help truly elevate the music (not to mention the album sales) up a few notches, but what we do get, for the most part, is still fun.

So it is a bit odd when things momentarily take a “jaded” turn towards pop music just before the third act, which feels out-of-nowhere coming from a franchise which has been nothing but a celebration of the genre. Revealing much more might classify as a spoiler, but suffice it to say it doesn’t ever have much of a payoff (or even a resolution), making the inclusion of such attitudes (however briefly) even more perplexing.

As is the norm for the studio, DreamWorks delivers top notch animation, with the world of Trolls expanding to various new lands while still maintaining a hand-crafted look. The kingdom of Country Trolls, for instance, resembles a child’s arts and crafts project, with houses that appear to have been created from wood and felt. Queen Barb’s armada, meanwhile, is not at all subtly inspired by a Mad Max film, while the cultures she leaves in ruins behind her feel like something out of a much darker film. And, of course, the character animation is as great as one would anticipate, with all of the Trolls being just as cuddly and lovable as they were last time (it’s just a shame, again, that none of this can be seen in the theater).

Overall, Trolls World Tour succeeds at what it’s trying to do as an enjoyable romp, though I’d have to watch it again to decide if it’s a “great” sequel or not. Which brings us to another thing: the price. With a suggested retail value of $19.99 for a two day rental, many people may be perfectly content with simply waiting for the Blu-ray, which can already be pre-ordered from various stores (as for myself, money proved to be no object on the matter. Thanks, website advertising revenue!). Then again, if all you want is a break from the dreary state of the world right now–even in a movie where characters throw toilet paper around like it has no value and engage in “hug time” instead of social distancing fist pumps–twenty bucks might be worth it for a song-filled, cheerful vacation.

The story is a dark but sweet. The Willoughby children come from a long line of impressive ancestors. But the family tree withered with their parents who care for no one but themselves. So what are a group of abused children to do but orphan themselves! Yes, it sounds pretty grim, but it’s mostly done in a light-hearted way. And you have to admit it’s at least a unique idea — usually the parents are already dead in animated films! The problem with the plot is it’s a bit scattershot. There’s no single through-line, it’s a lot of story pieces thrown together in an almost haphazard way. Normally that’s a deal-killer. But here it kind of gave everything a more frenzied feel which, while I don’t feel was necessarily intended, works pretty well with the tone of the film. What really pulls together the disparate pieces is the humor. It’s a very funny movie, but usually in a way that surprises you rather than just with cliched kids jokes.

The animation isn’t top notch but it’s very charming. From BRON Animation, it’s easy to tell where shortcuts had to be taken in the filmmaking process. But where it mattered, the animators went all out. The overall style of the film is based on a beautiful, craft-y, almost hand-made look that softens some of the darkness of the plot. The character designs are unique and appealing. And the character animation is fun and very well done.

The characters are dysfunctional but likable. Some of that is down to story, some to design, and a lot to the voice acting. Will Forte is at his best as the oldest Willoughby and wannabe provider, Tim. I wasn’t sure Alessia Cara was a good fit at first for sister Jane. She has a distinctive voice that didn’t mesh well for me. But as the movie went on and we got to know her character, I came to like the casting choice. Seán Cullen as the Barnabys gave a creepy good performance. I love Maya Rudolph in almost everything she does, and this part as a nanny whose motives are under suspicion was no exception. Somehow Martin Short and Jane Krakowski made extremely terrible parents endearing! Terry Crews was good as a candy factory owner, though probably under utilized. And Ricky Gervais as the narrator — I really thought his usual shtick would get old here, but the writers wove his part in so well that the film wouldn’t have worked without him.

The Willoughbys is not on the same level as the best from Disney or Pixar. But it’s a lot better than many of the things that have made it to the big screen in recent years. If this is the type of film we can expect from streaming services in the future, sign me up!

In this outing, while Shaun is trying to enjoy the creature comforts of farm life (despite the efforts of an overprotective sheepdog) he encounters an extraterrestrial who is being chased by government agents, can be lured out of hiding by leaving a trail of their favorite snacks, has a knack for causing trouble, and is looking for a way to phone home. Yes, that sounds familiar, but in that other film, Elliott’s mother didn’t try to take advantage of UFO fever by building a theme park in the backyard!

While starting this review, I looked back to my article on the previous movie to ensure I wasn’t repeating myself. I discovered that a lot of what I wrote then perfectly matches what I wanted to say now. So rather than trying to pull the wool over your eyes, I think past me said it best so I’m going to embrace copying myself!

“The most daring decision the filmmakers made when creating the story is to keep the entire movie dialogue-free. Yes, that’s in keeping with the TV show, but what works in a seven minute small screen episode is much more risky when projected onto the big screen with a feature length running time. This isn’t a silent film, by any means. The animals ‘talk’ with baa’s, bleats, and barks. And the humans communicate with grunts and some indistinguishable mumblings. But there is no understandable word spoken in the film, meaning the story has to be told through the characters’ actions. In untalented hands that could be a recipe for disaster, but luckily Aardman accomplishes the difficult task with aplomb. Even the youngest audience member should have no problem keeping up with the plot. (Of course the plot isn’t really that complicated which, if we’re being honest, was probably a big help in making a mostly silent movie!)

While the story is a bit bare-bones… it is well done and tightly written. It definitely doesn’t have some of the issues other TV series based films do: this isn’t just an episode with lots of padding, and it isn’t just three episodes tied together with some bookends. One issue American audiences might have is the more gentle humor of Aardman. Don’t take that the wrong way. This isn’t a movie only kids will enjoy… What I mean is Aardman doesn’t go for the non-stop laugh-out-loud moments or the funny-because-it’s-obnoxious jokes or the mean humor… It may not be what audiences are used to but it’s a refreshing change from the norm.”

Unlike its predecessor, Farmageddon is a science fiction story. That means we get spaceships, weird aliens, and cool powers — all plot points that will be extra appealing to the younger crowd while making the whole story a little more exciting than just a grand day out in the big city like the last one. But maybe more entertaining for us older folks is trying to catch all the references and callbacks to science fiction of the past. There’s no way you could find them all in one viewing, but they include Alien, 2001, Close Encounters, Doctor Who, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and too many more to list. (My favorite blink-and-you’ll-miss-it joke is a Plan 9 From Outer Space nod you can find in the grocery store scene!)

The sci-fi setting also gives the animation a bit of a jolt from the norm for Shaun the Sheep. Kids will love the look of the aliens, which while still fitting for the world Aardman has created, give the long-running franchise some fresh character designs. The ships, space scenes, and Men in Black style sets take the characters to places we’ve never them before. And the switch to the wider scope aspect gives the entire film — from playing frisbee on the farm, building a roadside attraction, or flying to an alien world — more room to play in. (Though you may not be as enamored with that decision depending on the size of whatever television you’re streaming Netflix with!)

The music of Farmageddon is fun when you notice it and has the proper sci-fi feel, but it’s not exactly catchy. And, like the first movie, the pop songs are somewhat jarring. After hearing no words spoken for long stretches of time, you kind of get used to it and you notice it when it suddenly starts happening.

While still markedly on the mild side compared to other modern animated fare, Farmageddon is a fun little film that in terms of excitement (in both its story and designs) tops the charming original. While it’s a shame that you can’t watch it as originally intended, at least it’s available on a popular subscription service where people who might not have been inclined to see it in theatres could say “what the hay” and give it a chance. It’s a sweet-tempered yarn that ewe and your entire family can enjoy together.