FLP's Spring Film Reviews

The Only Place to Read Reviews of KUNG FU PANDA 4, CIVIL WAR, THE MINISTRY OF UNGENTLEMANLY WARFARE, CHALLENGERS, AND KINGDOM OF THE PLANET OF THE APES All Together.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for your continued support and patience. We’ll begin our annual summer content—fun and good movies that only the boldest Film Lit teacher would put in their course—on May 29th. In the meantime, please enjoy these five reviews of recent releases.

Kung Fu Panda 4 

Honest question: When did pandas become known (exposed?) as the buffoons of the animal world? As the creatures so clumsily and dumbly self-destructive that it’s hard to believe evolution chose them to survive?

I ask because the original Kung Fu Panda, released in 2008, was instantly and remains one of my favorite animated films. And I’m just wondering how much credit to give the filmmakers for the concept. Put another way, I guess I’m asking whether it was the consensus view that real-life pandas were cartoonishly unathletic in 2008, and if audiences were skeptical of Po from the jump just because he’s a panda, if they didn’t need to know or have established for them that he was especially clumsy, even for a panda.

In any event, the concept worked then, and it works now. I enjoyed the second and third installments of this franchise, and I really enjoyed this one. The plot and structure are familiar, sure. And? So?

The animation is very good, and the fight choreography rules. More importantly, the filmmakers understand the assignment: the film is a tight 94 minutes. And regular readers here already know that I appreciate more and more every day a film that isn’t structurally bloated. (Shoot. That reminds me. I never reviewed I.S.S., a structurally tight thriller I really enjoyed.)

But honestly, Jack Black is the key to this film (and franchise). For any film to work, especially an animated film, it has to have heart. And this film does—in no small part because of Jack Black. This might sound dumb, but I really believe Jack Black loves voicing Po. And I just think Jack Black is the coolest. I am in awe of his skill set, and he seems like a guy I’d love to hang out with. Anyway, he’s awesome here.

Civil War 

Civil War is a beautifully shot film. It’s clear its director, Alex Garland, knows how to use technique to forward an agenda, a vision. The film features some arresting, haunting shots—some of which might even make it into a future Film Lit Visual Storytelling lecture.

I will also say that the Jesse Plemons scene is as good as everyone says it is. It’s tense as hell, keeping the viewer scared and guessing throughout.

Having said all that, I did not enjoy the movie. And part of that is on me: it’s just not about what I wanted it to be about. I wanted some Film Lit discussion-worthy scenes about the disintegration of the American political landscape, about the values and motivations of the different sides of the war. (You know, some classic “Attack or Defend”-type scenes.) Instead, the film actively dodges those questions. Indeed, it’s often unclear what sides some combatants are on. And I get it: that’s part of the point.

Hearing after I saw the film that Alex Garland wanted to make this film to portray journalists as heroes, though, stopped me in my tracks. That was not my takeaway. In fact, I found myself wondering thirty minutes into my viewing if it’s possible for me to like a film if I despise every character in it. The journalists in this film value their objectivity, and are committed to showing the world the truth. Fair enough. That objectivity and that mission, however, come across as amorality and a lack of humanity. And it’s not clear that they see that. That Garland doesn’t seem to see that is problematic, to say the least.

I’ll also say that the last twenty minutes made me roll my eyes and wish I had walked out of the film earlier—because by then it was too late, and I had to stick it out. If someone told me that an AI generated the last few pages of the script, I would believe them. There are just so so so many unbelievable, implausible elements. (I’ll give you just one: the President decides, after enemy forces have laid extended siege on the White House, that the best place to hide is not a secure bunker, but the Oval Office.)

The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare 

Consistent Film Lit Pitch readers know that I’m a recovering trailer addict. (I discuss my journey in the Pitch for 1917.) I’ll admit that I relapsed with The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare—I for sure got sucked in by a trailer I saw on social media. It looked like a big, dumb, fun movie with an irresistible set-up: a rag-tag rogue group coming together to perform a highly dangerous off-the-books mission to cripple the Nazi war machine. Plus, perhaps coincidentally, like Suicide Squad, it used a Queen song in the trailer. How could I resist?

The film was, for the most part, as advertised. I had a good time watching it, and, yes, I enjoyed the fact that it was a tight two hours. I think Henry Cavill is one of the best-looking men in Hollywood, and he was great as an anti-hero. (I have to say: he was also great as the quintessential hero, Super-Man.)

I will say, though, that the film didn’t turn as many knobs to 11 as I would have wanted. Just as my critique of BlacKkKlansman was that the film wasn’t “Spike Lee” enough for me, this one wasn’t “Guy Ritchie” enough for me. I routinely felt like it wasn’t as aggressive as I expected it to be.

It’s entirely possible the apparent restraint was part of an effort to stay as loyal as possible to the source material. And yeah, that the story is based on real-life events definitely is a plus.

Along those lines, I had two thoughts as the film ended: first, that I would love a series of films based on the Ministry’s other missions and exploits; and second, that this film is a lighter, less-good version of Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds. (At times, the parallels are so strong—including any number of anachronistic western songs—I found myself wondering if Ministry was some sort of homage.)

Challengers

I was skeptical of this film going in, and I was still disappointed.

I felt like walking out of this film early and often. I’ve noted before, in the Pitch for The Social Network, how brilliant Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross were, how crucial their score was to that movie. I cannot say the same here. The score seems overly aggressive and disjointed; it takes away from more scenes that it adds to.

In addition, a lot of the sports world-building doesn’t work for me. Now, to be fair, I’m not an expert on, or even more than a casual fan of, professional tennis. But I think I know enough to know—or am just arrogant enough to think—that many of the story’s sports elements, to put it nebulously, just couldn’t work that way. (To save everyone the time, and to keep myself from getting all mad again, I’ll give you just one: how many teen-phenoms-who-nevertheless-decided-to-go-to-college-but-then-got-injured-more-than-a-decade-ago-and-never-amounted-to-anything-in-the-pros-but-are-now-married-to-fading-stars are on building-covering billboards?)

Finally, I just didn’t find any compelling reason to care about any of the characters. Whom should I root for? As much as any other element, humanity gives a film its stakes. And here, I don’t see a ton of humanity, and don’t really care about the stakes.

Since I saw the film, I’ve read enough about it online to know there will be people out there who will say, “Mark, you just don’t get it.” And to them I would say, in the words of the immortal Jim Rome, “You’re right. I don’t get it.”

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes 

I will always be grateful to Tiffany Miller. It was on her recommendation that I went out and saw Rise of the Planet of the Apes, the first film in the second reboot of the Apes cinematic universe. (While I’m here: I enjoyed a lot of the Tim Burton 2001 reboot—until the end. And if you haven’t seen any of the originals, give them a try, with this caveat: those movies are legitimately unhinged, and get more insane as they go.)

That Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes is probably the third-best entry in the current series is no knock on it, because every film in the series is good. Since nobody asked, here’s my current ranking:

4. Rise of the Planet of the Apes (2011)

3. Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes (2024)

2. War of the Planet of the Apes (2017)

1. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (2014)

(Sidebar: it will always puzzle me a bit that the first film is called Rise and the second is called Dawn. Honestly: shouldn’t it be the other way around?)

Kingdom, as well as the others, does an excellent job showing how powerful simple stories can be—indeed, how complicated simple stories can be. So much of its storyline turns on fundamental dichotomies like loyalty and betrayal, honesty and dishonesty, pragmatism and compassion. Over and over, situations start off simple, and get fraught fast. And over and over, the audience gets to ask the classic Film Lit question, “Why are these people arguing, and why are they both right?”

The film also does a good job of showing how effective, compelling, and subtext-filled very simple dialogue can be. It’s refreshing as hell, and makes the dialogue in a lot of other films look inauthentic and over-written.