Creed II - Film Review

Creed II fits the mold of your standard Rocky sequel. That is to say it’s bigger, louder and much, much dumber. You’ll be able to predict nearly every move it has up its sleeve because we’ve seen this movie a dozen times already. The carefully crafted, grounded aesthetic of writer/director Ryan Coogler’s Creed has been replaced with the hokey dialogue and bombast found in the series’ weaker entries. If Rocky Balboa and Creed I redeemed this franchise from the abyss Rocky IV and V created, Creed II is the start of its descent down the same path that led to its needing redemption in the first place.

Creed II kicks off in high energy fashion with Adonis winning the title of Heavyweight Champion of the World under the tutelage of his mentor Rocky Balboa. Things are still great with his girlfriend Bianca. He’s just proposed to her and they’re about to have their first child. But then along comes Ivan Drago, the evil, one-liner spouting Russian who killed Adonis’ father in Rocky IV. Drago has been training his son Viktor for a match against Adonis, an attempt to regain his former glory in Mother Russia, a glory lost when Rocky defeated him back in 1985. Naturally, Adonis jumps at the opportunity to avenge his father’s death, but his cocky, headstrong nature estranges him from his friends and family. When Rocky refuses to support Adonis’ decision to fight, Adonis decides to go it alone. You can pretty much figure out what happens from here. Think Rocky III, but without Mr. T or Survivor’s Eye of the Tiger. So basically, way less entertaining.

Creed II suggests some interesting ideas, but never bothers exploring any of them to their fullest potential. Everything about it feels pronounced and obvious, following the well-worn path of superior entries. The screenplay, crafted by Sylvester Stallone and Juel Taylor, is subpar, saddling this otherwise talented cast with some truly embarrassing dialogue. Performances suffer as a result. As Adonis, Michael B. Jordan is still as likable as ever, packing the role with every ounce of emotion he can muster, but the character isn’t given a worthwhile drive this time around. The same goes for Tessa Mae Thompson, who the screenwriters struggle to give anything worthwhile to do. A particular attempt during the film’s climactic showdown to have her be more involved is just as embarrassing as anything you’d find in Rocky IV or V. Stallone himself mumbles and stumbles through the role that made him a star forty years ago. It’s difficult not to love Rocky, but the character is reduced to being the standard mentor, spouting lines of wisdom when needed and the angle is already starting to get old.

Perhaps the biggest casualty is the Drago father/son storyline. Dolph Lundgren isn't given much more to do aside from scowl and repeat his best lines from Rocky IV. Florian Munteanu follows suit, throwing in some quizzical looks and emotional outbursts for good measure. Their relationship reaches a surprising and touching conclusion, but it comes out of nowhere and doesn't feel earned, undermining the whole thing.

None of this is helped by newcomer Stephen Caple Jr.’s direction. Caple Jr. had a tough act to follow, and he does an admirable job stepping up to the task, but his directorial stylings feel more pronounced and far less refined. His creative choices are bland and obvious, calling attention to themselves in all the wrong ways. This applies not only to the cinematography and color palette, which is more extreme and stylized, but to the sound design as well, which is extremely odd in places. For instance, there’s a scene in which Bianca and Adonis' mother Mary Anne sit in Mary Anne’s living room and have a conversation about Adonis’ struggles. This is intercut with Adonis training in a swimming pool in a completely different location. The conversation between his mother and Bianca plays over the soundtrack and, for some reason, every time Adonis submerges, the audio becomes muffled as if he’s hearing it from underwater. But they’re not in the same location and he can’t hear them, so why does this happen? I guess because Caple Jr. thought it sounded cool, even though it’s completely unmotivated in any creative sense. It feels amateurish, like a film student showing off without any justification for doing so. The fight scenes and training montage have a spark of life, but you can always expect as much from these movies. Even Rocky V had a decent training montage. Nothing about Creed II pulses with the same life as Coogler’s previous effort.

The story simply isn't up to snuff. There’s no emotional drive. It’s all about the fight, which is never a good sign for a Rocky movie. The best films in this series were never about the fight, not really. The first Rocky is a love story about two lonely people who desperately need one another in order to feel their lives are worthwhile. In that film, the fight is an extension of Rocky’s internal journey with the character striving not to win, but to prove to himself that he isn’t just some bum, that he can stand toe to toe with the greatest and hold his own. These themes are reflected in Rocky Balboa and Creed I; it’s why they’re so compelling and engaging and, in my not so humble opinion, the best this series has to offer.

And what do all these movies have in common? The main character loses the fight. This presents a dilemma for any sequel. What angle is left except for the main character to win? And if winning the fight is the main thing driving everything that happens, it’s not nearly as interesting. Every other Rocky sequel is about besting bigger and badder opponents to the point where it descended into cartoon territory. Creed II follows suit, and if you think my bringing this up is at all spoiling Creed II’s ultimate outcome, you clearly haven’t seen one of these movies.

It all boils down to this: Creed I was made because a talented filmmaker had something meaningful he wanted to say. Creed II was made because Creed I made money. Might I suggest throwing in the towel before things get any worse?

Here's how I'd rank the series overall:

1. Rocky
2. Creed
3. Rocky Balboa
4. Rocky III
5. Rocky II
6. Creed II
7. Rocky IV
8. Rocky V

Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald - Film Review

Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald is the cinematic equivalent of a rainy day: it’s cold and grey and it made me long for a nap. Now let’s be clear, I do enjoy watching a rainy day from time to time, but I’d prefer to watch from inside with a warm drink in hand and a pair of pink, fluffy slippers on my feet. (Yes, they have to be pink, and yes, they have to be fluffy.) The Crimes of Grindelwald isn’t something I appreciated watching, nor is it pink or fluffy. In fact, this movie is more like being stuck outside in the downpour, ruining my pink, fluffy slippers in the process. This is something I cannot forgive.

This is all to say that The Crimes of Grindelwald, which from here on out I will refer to by its acronym ‘CoG,’ a fitting descriptor as these movies aren’t so much interested in telling a story as they are in serving as a cog in Warner Bros’ money making machine, is a miserable viewing experience and further indication that this prequel series is in dire need of a revamping or, better yet, a complete dismantling.

Just so you know where we stand, I wasn’t a fan of the first Fantastic Beasts either. In my review, I called it ‘a plodding, tonally inconsistent mess’ and noted the glaring absence of either an involving storyline or compelling characters. Those complaints apply tenfold to CoG. At every turn, author turned screenwriter J.K. Rowling fails to craft a compelling story from a number of disparate pieces. Remember when Warner Bros. announced this new series and Rowling stated it wouldn’t be a sequel or a prequel to the Harry Potter series? My guess is Rowling originally wanted to tell a fun, standalone story, but Warner Bros. got greedy and forced her to connect this series more explicitly to Harry Potter, hence the awkward, jumbled storytelling and clashing tones. CoG feels like a whole lot of filler and you feel the strain of Warner Bros’ decision to turn Fantastic Beasts from a trilogy into a five-film series every step of the way. Did we really need to know Nagini’s origin story? No. No, we didn’t, but for some reason it’s included here and it’s just as pointless as you’d imagine.

Rowling throws multiple plotlines, characters and Potter references into the mix, but despite the overwhelming amount of things on screen, nothing seems to actually happen. Everything in CoG is disconnected, every character motivation is independent of what seems intended as the driving story. Most of the film’s runtime consists of stern, serious looking characters sitting in bland, nondescript rooms, wearing bland, nondescript outfits and talking and talking and talking. There’s a lot of talk of Grindelwald leading his followers into battle against the wizarding community and a great deal of discussion regarding the true identity of Credence (Ezra Miller), which seems to be a topic of large concern. Maybe all this would matter more if Rowling gave more attention to the characters most directly affected by and involved with the story, but for some reason she opts instead to focus on Newt and his companions, making them the primary players even though they have very little, if any, personal connection to what happens here. The story functions outside of their involvement, making it all the more apparent how little they matter in the grand scheme of things.

It would help if these characters were likable in the slightest, but they’re not. They’re as bland as the oddly colorless Paris portrayed in the film. Eddie Redmayne continues to play Newt Scamander as emotionally disconnected from everything and everyone around. He’s incapable of making eye contact with anyone, and I’m not sure if Redmayne intended to portray Newt as if he’s on the spectrum, but that’s exactly how it comes across. This would be fine, except it has zero bearing on anything that happens in the story and isn’t reflected in the script or the way other characters interact with him. Newt lacks a compelling motivation and his general disinterest in everything happening makes the prospect of following his character through three more films extremely unappealing.

The supporting cast returns too, though they aren’t given much to do except stand on the sidelines. As Newt’s best friend Jacob Kowalski, Dan Fogler flails about, making odd noises and giggling at random moments, which I guess is supposed to be funny? Katherine Waterston looks like she’s either on the verge of tears or in need of a decent nap. Probably both. She and Newt are supposed to be madly in love, but there’s a glaring absence of chemistry between them. And then there’s Alison Sudol’s Queenie, who is saddled with one of the film’s more nonsensical character arcs. To her credit, Sudol gives it her all, but it doesn’t make it feel any less ridiculous.

The new characters don’t fare much better. The most prominent is Leta Lestrange (Zoe Kravitz). She and Newt have some kind of past relationship that’s barely hinted at and for some reason she’s decided to marry Newt’s brother Theseus (Callum Turner). There’s no explanation as to why this is, though, to be fair, an explanation probably wouldn’t make me care anyway, so why bother? There’s also Johnny Depp’s take on big baddie Grindelwald. He’s weird in his special Johnny Depp way, but he makes a minimal impression. To be fair, Rowling’s screenplay doesn’t give him much to do, so it’s not entirely his fault, but having him in this role still seems like an odd misstep.

And then there’s Jude Law’s performance as Albus Dumbledore, which provides the only genuine spark of life in this entire enterprise. (It’s a toss-up between him and that adorable cat-dragon thing) Even with his limited screen time, it’s clear Law is the right man for the job. The brief time we spend with him, which includes a stop-in at Hogwarts, is the only time the film manages to conjure up any magic or delight. This has more to do with the familiar setting and elements than the storytelling itself. The soundtrack takes great delight in recycling the soaring Harry Potter theme in this moment and it’s a sad reminder of the days when this franchise was something to celebrate. More and more, this series is shaping up as an epic showdown between Dumbledore and Grindelwald. When CoG focuses on these characters and their relationship, it manages to find its footing, however wobbly it might be. Why, then, does Rowling and co. insist on bothering with the story of Newt and his blank slate companions? They are by far the weakest element of these films and, seeing as how they have so little bearing on what happens in these stories, the easiest to jettison.

Now. Let’s talk about David Yates, shall we?

Watching Yates come into his own as a director during the latter half of the Harry Potter series was a delight. With each entry, he became more and more confident as a director, peaking with his work on Deathly Hallows. With Fantastic Beasts, it’s the complete opposite experience. We’re watching the disintegration of Yates’ talents as a filmmaker. The ability to construct a coherent narrative or frame a shot with even a touch of inspiration is long gone; his action sequences are borderline incoherent and he demonstrates such a lack of understanding regarding the basic principles of visual storytelling you can never tell what’s happening.

To make matters worse, Mark Day’s editing hasn’t improved either. Following Yates’ example, Day continues to demonstrate a seeming disregard for the basic rules on how to string scenes together in a way that makes a modicum of sense. One moment characters are talking in a room, the next, they’re standing in a completely different location with no logical connection as to how they got there. This happens CONSTANTLY, and yes, I need to use CAPS to emphasize how bad it is. That’s what CoG has reduced me to.

To be clear, this isn’t storytelling. It’s placeholding. And sure, you could blame the original Harry Potter series of doing the same, but at least with those we were spending time with characters we loved and there was a semblance of excitement and magic, that it was all leading to a worthwhile conclusion. Fantastic Beasts has nothing to offer except the threat of three more movies, and that may be the greatest crime of all.