Top 12 Episodes of Bojack Horseman (Seasons 1-3)

It's not you, you tell yourself.

It's the bad thing you did.

Bojack Horseman is one of those shows that sneaks up on you.  It makes you laugh, gets you interested in the characters, and even makes you roll your eyes at its ridiculousness.  Then it rips your heart out.  What begins as a relatively simple idea (a washed up celebrity who's an asshole, but deep down wants to do something better with his life) evolves into a brutally honest and thought-provoking dark comedy.  Bojack wears its disdain and love for Hollywood culture (or if we want to be accurate, Hollywoo culture) on its sleeve while giving insight into the psychologies of people living in the 21st century.  Its world is surprisingly well-developed world, and has tons of fun with the idea that it just so happens to feature anthropomorphic animals living alongside humans.  Yet despite the belly laughs, there's something addictive about the show's sadness.  I watched the show front to back on Netflix last summer, but felt unusually compelled to watch the entire series over again.  By myself.  It's a show that has consumed a little part of my life, and I hear it does the same for many others.  Why in the world does a Flash animated show about a talking horse mean so much to me?   Here are my top twelve favorite episodes of Bojack Horseman.  This isn't an ordered list, just the episodes presented chronologically.

Honorable mentions go to The Telescope, Later, Sabrina's Christmas Wish, and every episode from seasons two and three.


Say Anything
Season 1, Episode 7

You know the worst part?  

I knew this was gonna happen, and I let myself get excited anyway.

Bojack Horseman's first six episodes are not bad, but they're not great.  Character dynamics are finding their footing, and the comedy is great here and there, but the show feels very derivative of Family Guy, Archer, and Ugly Americans.  I also generally dislike Flash animation (though if it's done well, like it is here, I can live with it).  Bojack lacked an identity up until episode seven, and I'd argue that it contains a single moment that changes the show fundamentally.  Bojack gets Princess Carolyn's hopes up that things might actually actually work with their relationship, but then he breaks her heart again.  She tries to pick herself up, melt into her career persona, and do the best damn job she can.  But it's still not enough, and as she looks out her office window, alone and empty, the calendar on her phone rings and says, "Happy Birthday, Princess Carolyn."  "Thanks, phone," she says.  "You are forty," it replies.

That moment is so unexpected, and executed so perfectly, that it makes my heart sink.  Somehow, I feel genuinely sad for this pink cartoon cat woman.  Although the following episode, The Telescope, is technically better (and tells more backstory), I think I admire this one more because of the perspective shift. This is Princess Carolyn's story for once, not Bojack's.  It's the first sign that this isn't going to be a one-horse show about depression; it's an ensemble piece of sadness.


Downer Ending
Season 1, Episode 11

I spend a lot of time with the real me, 

and believe me, nobody's gonna love that guy.

Finally, eleven episodes in, Bojack Horseman delivers its first masterpiece.  Downer Ending revolves around Bojack's attempts to rewrite the memoirs of his life after Diane reveals her version, "One Trick Pony," which is far too honest for his liking.  He does the classic procrastination routine, blaming Todd for being in the way, cleaning things that didn't need to be cleaned, buying and returning a vacuum, etc., but then things get freaky.  He calls his ex-co-star Sarah Lynn from Horsin' Around to come over and help brainstorm.  And by brainstorm, he means take a lot of drugs.  Things get surreal pretty quickly, and after experiencing some hilarious and creepy hallucinations (featuring some of the show's best animation), the drug trip takes on a somber tone.  Bojack sees life as it could have been, living quietly in a cabin by a lake with Charlotte, a (deer) woman he only briefly knew over twenty years ago.  Deep down, it seems, he wishes he'd taken a different road, but now he feels like it's too late.  When the dream ends (with extreme brutality), Bojack has an epiphany that forces him to bear his soul to Diane at a public panel for ghost writers. Will Arnett's performance heartbreaking as he begs with desperation for her to tell him that it's not too late for him to change, and that deep down he's a good person.  And she doesn't.  That silence is aching and unnerving.  As she tells him next episode, she doesn't think that there is a "deep down;" all you are is what you do.


Hank After Dark
Season 2, Episode 7

I'm Hank Hippopopalous.  Who the hell are you?

In its second and third seasons, Bojack Horseman tackles social issues with unflinching gusto.  Hank After Dark opens what may be a fresh wound for some, but it's a topic that absolutely needs to be talked about; celebrities (male in this case) do horrible things and get away with them because they're well-liked.  Diane, against just about everyone's wishes, calls attention to a TV personality named Hank Hippopopalous who did "something" to eight of his former assistants.  The vagueness of that "something" is a tasteful way to go about this topic, and makes the real-world parallels to the actual celebrities with numerous sexual allegations against them all the more insertable.  The real kicker of this episode is, once again, at the very end.  Diane has lost; the magazine that was going to pursue the story has dropped it, Mr. Peanutbutter is hurt that she led this hopeless crusade at all, and as she sits at the airport waiting to fly to war-torn Cordovia alone, a man sitting next to her tells her to "smile."  It's an affecting moment that represents the patronizing nature of traditional male chauvinism that still exists; it encapsulates the sad truth that even if things have gotten better for women in 21st century, there's still a long ways to go.


Let's Find Out
Season 2, Episode 8

I want to feel good about myself, the way you do... I don't know if I can.

Don't let all this talk about depression and dark subject matter fool you.  Bojack Horseman's comedy is wonderfully inventive, ranging from puns and parodies to background details that you'll probably miss the first time.  The episode finds Mr. Peanutbutter (who quickly developed from being an annoying wannabe to being ridiculously lovable) the host of his own game show, headed by the not-dead-after-all J.D. Salinger (author of Catcher in the Rye and... others...), where celebrities come on to answer trivia questions.  Bojack and Mr. Peanutbutter's finally take on some weight; PB lets out some pent up feeling about how Bojack's always treated him like a joke when all he wanted to do was be his friend, plus he reveals that he knows about the time Bojack kissed Diane.  We get a sense that PB isn't as naive as he appears, and it makes him all the more endearing.  When the happy-go-lucky Mr. Peanutbutter gets angry, shit's gettin' real.  Add to that the guest appearance from Daniel Radcliffe and the absurdities of the game show itself (which is aptly titled Hollywoo Stars and Celebrities: What Do They Know? Do They Know Things?? Let's Find Out!) and you get an incredibly funny episode that adds dimension to the characters. Oh, and let's not forget the reconciliation kiss, which totally steals the show.


The Shot
Season 2, Episode 9

I don't cry in front of other people.

Bojack's horrible childhood informs a lot of his character.  His parents were assholes, and they raised an asshole.  I found their portrayal problematic in a few of their featured flashbacks; they're so over-the-top awful that Bojack's abuse is sort of played for laughs, and it really shouldn't be.  In The Shot, however, the flashback scene is dead on.  Little Bojack sees Secretariat smoking a cigarette on TV, so he steals one from his mother's purse.  When his mother catches him, she makes him finish it, and tells him never to cry.  At the end of the episode, we realize that this was all setup for a devistating payoff, when Kelsey (Secretariat's director) gives Bojack the motivation he needs to cry by telling him that he's broken, echoing the words of his mother from Brand New Couch earlier in the season.  He doesn't cry on camera, but they got the shot.  When Bojack goes outside to smoke after the scene, he has a sudden and heartbreaking meltdown (and you'll notice from now on that Bojack is only seen smoking when he's at his lowest).  The show rarely uses the word "depressed," instead calling characters "broken," and it's much more meaningful.

In between all this, we get a great story with Princess Carolyn starting her own business with Rutabaga Rabbitowitz (and mentally disappearing into a painting fantasy land), more fantastic comedy during a police shoot-out involving Character Actress Margo Martindale, and surprisingly endearing moments between Bojack and Kelsey as they sneak away from the studio to get the titular shot.  My heart sinks a lot during this show, but this was the first time I was hit with three in a row: the reveal that Diane is lying to Mr. Peanutbutter about staying in Cordovia, then Bojack's breakdown, followed by Kelsey's firing.  It opens up new issues for all of the characters (except Todd, because he's Todd), and in terms of heart-wrenching plot developments, this is only the beginning.  Bojack broke the mold of its genre trappings a long time ago, but in case you had any doubts, the show makes it clear that actions will have consequences, comedy won't be used as a crutch to break up intense situations, and anything can happen.  Viewers, you have been warned.


Escape From L.A.
Season 2, Episode 11

You make me too sad.

If I were ranking these episodes, Escape from L.A. would be my number one.  This one cuts like a knife, very slowly and very painfully.  After abandoning the Secretariat set in pursuit of a simpler life in New Mexico with Charlotte, Bojack moves in with her family and gets to know her husband Kyle and her teenage kids Penny and Trip (accompanied by a pitch-perfect sitcom intro song).  Things are looking good at first; he buys a boat as part of his ruse for why he's there in the first place, and two months breeze right by.  He loves the family life, and even starts to take on a persona similar to the one he played on Horsin' Around.  But you just know this won't last, and after taking Penny to the prom to make her feel better, it starts to get... scary.  You hope and pray that the writers aren't going where you think they're going, but one situation leads to another, and Bojack falls back into self-destruct mode.  He almost makes a giant mistake, and when Charlotte catches him, the show's one f-bomb per season standard is positively heart-stopping.  The sequence that follows is the most vibrant and iconic moment of the show: Bojack sits on his boat as a tow truck takes him back to L.A. (his boat is named "Escape From L.A." for added irony) as the excellence of his jazzy theme song blasts away.

This is a portrait a (horse) man who is incapable of finding sustainable happiness, because he sabotages every chance he gets at it, and as a viewer by this point, you've come to actually care. Littered throughout the episode are great jokes (Penny's social life stories, Bojack teaching high schoolers how to drink like classy adults), beautiful imagery (the balloons with glow sticks attached floating in a starry sky is particularly lovely), and Jesse Novak absolutely kills it with the music.  It's sort of a bottle episode, not really checking in with with Princess Carolyn, Todd, or the other major characters.  But it might just be the most important episode of the show for Bojack, opening a whole world of character development, and setting the base for what will ultimately propel his downward spiral in season three.  The scene where Charlotte opens the door and finds Penny in Bojack's boat is genuinely disturbing, and that's thanks to a radically perfect combination of staging, writing, acting, and music.  It's a hell of a moment in a hell of a show.

The Bojack Horseman Show
Season 3, Episode 2

2007! Is that what time it is?  

I gotta get my Uggs on and get to work!

It's funny to think that 2007 was already a decade ago, and how certain things have changed so much.  Prominent figures in pop culture, music tastes, fashions, flip phones, HD-DVD players, Blockbuster... this episode brilliantly exploits the year for its dated trends while giving great backstory to just about all the main characters.  Some of it actually adds depth to previous episodes (Princess Carolyn's story being the most tragic upon rewatch) and other elements are introduced that will pay off later in the season, such as Todd's first girlfriend, Emily.  The main story, however, revolves around Bojack teaming up with a successful producer named Cuddleywhiskers (who's produced such hits as Krill and Grace).  They attempt to make a new comedy show that will be daring, creative, and fresh.  What they end up with is a total disaster, but there's so much fun watching them get there.  Meanwhile, we get to see how Diane and Mr. Peanutbutter met, hear some great voice talent added to the cast (Jeffrey Wright, Abbi Jacobson), and finally understand what happened to the ending of The Sopranos. Let's Find Out is hilarious to be sure, but I think The Bojack Horseman Show wins the award for funniest episode of the series so far.


Fish Out of Water
Season 3, Episode 4

I haven't been underwater since my mother tried to 

drown me in the bathtub when I was twenty-two...

Bojack Horseman excels at mixing self-contained episodes with its season-long arcs, which means a good amount of stories stand on their own when viewed out of context.  Fish Out of Water might be the best example of this, an episode that takes the challenging idea of "the silent episode" and hits the ground running.  Bojack is attending a screening of Secretariat at the Pacific Ocean Film Festival, in an underwater city inhabited by fish people and other sea creatures.  Bojack is forced to wear a helmet that lets him breathe, but doesn't allow him to indulge in his usual vices; he can't talk to anyone, smoke, or drink.  Noticing Kelsey at the festival, Bojack tries to write her an apology letter, but it all ends up sounding like schmaltzy bullshit.  Through a series of chaos, he ends up stuck with a baby seahorse, and embarks on an odd journey to get him back to his father.  This is where the animation really shines; much as I'd like the show more if it were traditionally animated, I can't deny that the artists have an absolute blast with the undersea location, colors, and visual gags.  Jesse Novak, once again, absolutely nails the scoring, and "Sea of Dreams" by Oberhofer adds so much to the episode it could be its own character.

This is another bottle episode that doesn't cut back to the ensemble cast or give us a B-plot; it's just Bojack and this naked baby seahorse on a wacky adventure.  I wasn't exactly choked up by the scene where Bojack has to give the baby seahorse back to his father (probably because it was inevitable), but I was genuinely moved by what Bojack eventually writes to Kelsey:

In this terrifying world, all we have are the connections that we make.  I'm sorry I got you fired. I'm sorry I never called you after.

It doesn't matter so much that he didn't get to give it to her (although that moment was frustrating), what's important is that he's not the same (horse) man he was thirty years ago.   It may be too late to say anything to Herb, whose falling out with was under similar circumstances, but what's important here is that the last two years have fundamentally changed Bojack.  He's not the thoughtless, uncaring asshole we met in episode one, and there may be hope for him yet.


Brrap Brrap, Pew Pew
Season 3, Episode 6

Alien's inside me... Gonna squash it like Sigourney...

This was a bold move.  Abortion is a tricky subject, and if a TV series were to claim that it has all the answers, things would get problematic very quickly.  The episode centers around Diane after she finds out she's pregnant and doesn't want to have the baby (which Mr. Peanutbutter supports her on). As the official media coordinator of pop singer Sextina Aquafina, Diane mistakenly tweets that she's having an abortion, and the media world is in a frenzy.  Some think it's brave, others think it's awful, and Sextina exploits the hell out of the situation.  She releases a song about killing babies with ludicrously graphic lyrics and a dark sci-fi music video, and I unapologetically laughed my ass off the  whole time when I saw it.  This show has had great musical moments before, but Brrap Brrap, Pew Pew reaches a whole new level of dark comedy.

So what's the takeaway from all this?  There are no easy solutions, but one thing's for sure: it won't be decided by old men in bow ties, sitting around a table.  Princess Carolyn, who's expressed the desire to have children since the first episode, is understandably frustrated with Diane's decision, clearly envying her opportunity.  But at the end of the episode, as Diane starts to talk about why she had the abortion, Princess Carolyn tells her, "You don't need to explain anything.  To anyone."  It really shows just how far their relationship has come (it was just last season that Diane had to remind PC that they knew each other already... and that she came to her wedding).

If I have a qualm with the episode, it's the Bojack/Ana Spanikopita story.  I always found Ana to be a scary character, and as Bojack's intimidating publicist, she works really well.  But as a love interest?  Even with her guard down in later episodes, she's not a likable person, and I don't feel empathy towards her.  And the way she... violates Bojack at the end of this episode... it's all kinds of wrong, and the show doesn't acknowledge it.  Still, it's a great episode with some of the funniest "sign" gags the show's produced (among many, many great sign gags), and it has something legitimate and poignant to say about such a controversial issue.


Best Thing that Ever Happened
Season 3, Episode 9

I think if you're good at putting out fires, you just run from fire to fire...

Things between Bojack and Princess Carolyn come to a head once again in Best Thing That Ever Happened, another bottle episode that features some of the best drama and comedy the show has to offer.  After PC gets cocky and loses Bojack all three of his potential projects (including one with Kelsey that he actually really wanted to do), Bojack fires her.  The ensuing fight gets real between them, and if you've been following the show closely up until this point, the words Bojack and PC say to each other cut deeply, and can't be unsaid.  All the while, a food critic is visiting Bojack's restaurant and the head chef has quit (he thought he was the one getting fired), so between the personal and dramatic moments we are treated to some amazing bits as the restaurant's sole waiter is forced to get the place in order.

What makes the back and forth between Bojack and PC so effective is that it's built on things we've witnessed for thirty-three episodes.  They are both such flawed people, and while PC isn't perfect, Bojack has done far worse to her than she has to him.  By the end, she's earned that second chance to make it up for her mistake, but Bojack still rejects her.  It's a devastating note to leave the episode on, and whatever lies ahead for them in season four, their relationship will never be the same.  What makes the fight cut even deeper is that they honestly love each other, but they just can't keep their professional lives and their personal feelings separate (a direct contrast to what PC claims she can do with supernatural ease in the very first episode).


That's Too Much, Man!
Season 3, Episode 11

The only thing that matters right now is this moment.  

This one, spectacular moment that we are sharing together.

This is, beyond all other rock bottoms that Bojack has encountered, the furthest down he can go. After finding out he wasn't nominated for an Oscar, and severing his ties to Princess Carolyn, Todd, and Diane, he has no one left to stop him from destroying himself.  He calls the one person he knows won't judge him, Sarah Lynn, who's been nine months sober and is ready to party.  They go on an epic bender: drugs, alcohol, nitrous and bath salts, Horsin' Around marathons... it's a mess.  Bojack starts to black out and miss huge gaps in their binge, allowing the story to quickly transport Bojack to situations that are so funny I can't describe, and others that uncover the meat of his pain.  The horrible things he's done to his friends and the incident with Penny in New Mexico are weighing heavily on his mind, and in his inebriated state, he decides to make amends to everyone.  This goes about as well as expected (maybe even a little worse).  I love the change to Bojack's design for much of this episode; the artists give him sleepless eyes and sweat-stained clothes to reflect the broken mess that usually stays better-hidden.

The episode ceases to be a comedy in its last few minutes.  Kristen Schaal brings her A-game as Sarah Lynn, digging deep to deliver dialogue where she admits that she doesn't like anything about herself.  It's genuinely heartbreaking, and she and Bojack finally make a loving connection, or at least it feels like one.  Then there's that planetarium scene.  Good Lord, the planetarium scene.  An end credits stinger has rarely been used so effectively, and so damn painfully, than when Bojack repeats Sarah Lynn's name over and over and gets no response.  Sarah Lynn may not have been the most developed character, but the innocent-turned-hyper-sexual tendancies of child stars is extraordinarily sad once it stops being funny, and I've never before seen it demonstrated with such honesty.  Bojack Horseman has ended on down notes before, but this is just too much, man.


That Went Well
Season 3, Episode 12

Spaghetti or not, here I come.

After the previous episode, That Went Well almost feels like a breather.  The horrible guilt that Bojack has over Sarah Lynn's death can't be solaced, but Diane tries to comfort him by revealing that during her shitty childhood, Horsin' Around was her escape, even if it was just for a half hour each week.  It inspires Bojack to do the spinoff show with his ex-co-star Brad, and things are going fine at first.  There are direct parallels to those Horsin' Around flashback scenes where Bojack was ignorant, self-absorbed, and nasty to the child actors.  Now he's kind, encouraging, and even fatherly.  But then the guilt washes over him again, and he realizes that perpetuating this cycle is going to just hurt more people.  All the while, we get hilarious payoff to most of the season's scattered elements when a boating accident causes them to collide; the reflective Secretariat ads, the former chef at Bojack's restaurant, Character Actress Margo Martindale and Bojack's stolen boat, the underwater city, Cabracadabra, and finally, Mr. Peanutbutter's house (the house, obviously) full of spaghetti strainers.  The chain of events causing everything to culminate is so ludicrous and funny, I'm not even mad that the climax happens offscreen.

After all the craziness, Todd admits to Emily that he's having trouble with his sexual identity, which is a bold and welcomed move on the writers' parts.  Princess Carolyn also demonstrates that she just can't relax and have a normal life, and falls right back into her old ways.  Meanwhile, Mr. Peanutbutter gets an offer to run for governor, which could lead to all sorts of wacky hi-jinks.  Also potential terrible pain, but I expect nothing less from this show.

We always have a story.

As Bojack drives his car along an empty highway, he lets go of the wheel.  The Nina Simone song "Stars" plays in the background, summing up an empty life spent in the limelight.  He lets go of the wheel, ready to end it all.  End the flow of poison that's infected him and everyone around him for good.  And then something happens that gives me chills every time; he sees other horse people running in the desert.  Free, sweating, and alive. He stops the car and gets out, just looking at them.  He says nothing, but it's clear that he has some kind of epiphany.  He thought he wanted to play Secretariat, but the truth is, he's always wanted to be Secretariat; to take the advice he was given by Secretariat on TV all those years ago, and just keep running.  His mother convinced him that all he was good for was to entertain and to try to win people's love, but the truth is, horses need to run.  This moment reaches a different kind of perfection than the boat bedroom scene from Escape From L.A.  Whereas that scene plays out like a horror movie with an ending fueled by intense negative emotions, That Went Well achieves a sort of heartwarming beauty that has not failed to make me cry every time I see it.  Despite the cliffhangers involving the ensemble characters, this would have been an immensely satisfying way to finish Bojack's story; a hopeful, bittersweet ending to one of the funniest, saddest, and most well-written and acted shows on TV today. Well, technically it's on the internet, but what's the difference nowadays?

My list unfortunately doesn't give me the opportunity to talk much about other wonderful characters like Vincent Adultman, or Todd's hilarious side stories, or commend the extensive voice cast, including Alison Brie, Paul F. Tompkins, Amy Sedaris, Aaron Paul, etc., or marvel at the celebrity cameos and guest appearances.  I think it's an extremely underrated show, perhaps because on its surface, it looks like just another crass, adult comedy cartoon.  But wow, it is so much more than that.  It has genuine heart.  Despite my satisfaction with how season three ended, I eagerly await season four.  Can it top itself, or have we already seen the best that Bojack can offer?  Let's find out.

Logan (SPOILERS)

Nature made me a freak.  Man made me a weapon.  And God made it last too long.

Hard as I find it to admit, I did not enjoy major aspects of Logan, a film which uses Hugh Jackman's Wolverine character in tremendously effective ways, takes chances that the Marvel Cinematic Universe could never afford to, and features outstanding acting, production design, and writing.   But this is not my X-Men movie.  Maybe I don't agree with the story's aggressive nihilism.  I could be annoyed with how it undoes the satisfying ending to Days of Future Past.  I might hate the way it throws away the other mutants in the franchise that I know, including the prominently featured Professor Xavior (Patrick Stewart).  It all culminates into an experience of constant and relentless disappointment, and that is exactly what it was going for.  The characters are disappointed in the world and each other, and we feel every bit of that.

Bad shit happens to people I care about.

In stark contrast to last year's X-Men: Apocalypse, Logan scales everything way back.  In the near future, mutants are something of an endangered species.  The exploits of the real life X-Men (many of whom are "gone") have been popularized through a series of comic books, and have turned some like Logan/Wolverine (Jackman) pseudo-celebrities.  He doesn't live like a celebrity though; he's busy driving a cab at night and taking care of the ailing Professor Xavior (Stewart) in a dirty shack in New Mexico.  It's proving to be a miserable existence, to say the least.  Things get shaken up when a nurse from a Mexican mutant research lab called Transigen comes to Logan with her daughter, eleven-year-old Laura (Dafne Keen), begging for help.  Quick to tell her off and proclaim he's not a hero, Logan inevitably ends up with the responsibility of keeping Laura safe from the agents of Transigen, led by a cybernetically-enhanced man named Donald Pierce (Boyd Holbrook).  All the while, the adamantium in Wolverine's body is starting to take its toll, stifling his healing ability and quickly aging him.

I'm a fan, by the way.

Director James Mangold also helmed 2013's The Wolverine, which too often felt like it had its focus in the wrong place.  It was caught between being a schlocky action movie and a melancholy character drama, and neither resonated they way they should have.  Logan contains no such problem, going full force with its bleak tone, abrasive content, and its adhesion to raw realism (in it's style anyway.  This is still a science-fiction story, complete with science-fictiony twists).  The sights and sounds of the vast deserts and empty roads are reminiscent of a Western; a fact that the filmmakers are keenly aware of (and even make direct references to Shane).  Logan himself fits the lone cowboy archetype perfectly, a reluctant hero who can never settle down and have a normal life.  It's by no means a sweeping epic in that way (which is part of its intentional lack of fun), but instead features more of a Coen brothers-like hardness and grit.

I have nightmares. People hurt me.

Something to be appreciated are the many setups and payoffs throughout the movie, which do their best to feel organic to the story.   Bonus points for being explained visually rather than through dialogue; Professor X's mental relapses are probably the best example.  To develop Alzheimer's a sad fate for a character that did so much good for the world.  Such as it is in the real world.  While we're on the subject, Patrick Stewart gives a heartbreakingly great performance in this movie.  The whole cast is excellent, and Hugh Jackman has been getting immense praise, but Stewart is acting his heart out here.  Dafne Keen makes an impressive film debut here too, which is especially impressive given her limited dialogue.  Have I mentioned that I love how the real life X-Men comics are incorporated into the X-Men film universe?  That was a really nice touch.

It didn't happen like this...

Ok, we're about to get into some big spoiler territory here.  Remember in X-Men Origins: Wolverine, and it's alright if you don't, when Logan goes to that farmhouse with the happy couple who take him in, feed him, and give him a reprieve from his insane life?  Remember how contrived and predictable it was when they were killed?  Well, the exact same thing happens here.  I don't get much pleasure out of seeing a nice, happy family get stabbed to death, especially when it's practically telegraphed from the beginning.  It does reinforce the idea that Logan can never have a normal life, and that all the people he cares for ultimately suffer just for knowing him, but it also comes off like it's there for shock value.  For a film series that makes strives to treat its characters with genuine humanity, the choice to kill these characters came across a bit cruel.

I always know who you are, I just sometimes don't recognize you.

Speaking of which, preceding senseless the killing of a nice teenager and his mother, we get the untimely and remarkably unearned killing of Professor Xavier.  While I had the feeling he would die at some point, I never imagined it would be so senseless and unfit for his character.  The man has come almost completely undone by this point, spouting swear words like a child (which also didn't really sit right with me) and making terrible decisions throughout the story.  We've had too much investment in this series (which all feature the character in one form or another) for his ultimate death to be so flippant.  Wolverine gets the much better end here, and as a fan of his character, I'm very happy with it.   I'm just ridiculously unhappy with everyone else's ending.

Don't be what they made you.

What really bothers me most is that I feel with some tweaking, it didn't have to be this way.  Why couldn't Logan and Xavier have been on their own running from the authorities, and leave the other X-Men out of it?  Did we really have to trample all over Future Past's ending (which was already an apology for The Last Stand), just to add some hopelessness to this movie?  On its own, Logan is a great film, even amazing at times.  I love most of it, especially the relationship that forms between Logan and Laura, which avoids sentimentality at all costs and allows for some gripping drama, comedy, and action.  Oh, that's right, this movie has some brutal fight scenes and solid laughs, all of which add a little life into the otherwise self-serious narrative.  It's a bittersweet farewell to Hugh Jackman in this role.  Jackman's Wolverine will stand with the likes of Christopher Reeve's Superman as the definitive version of the character, and certainly one of the best superhero actors of all time (and there are a lot of greats floating around nowadays).  The film takes risky chances, and they don't all pay off.  But there are moments (like the film's very last scene) that are genuinely powerful, and that's not a bad way to go out at all.

7/10



  

X-Men: Apocalypse

No more superpowers...

I have this inexplicable love for the X-Men franchise, one that stems from immense goodwill from the first two movies, but is constantly challenged and justified by newer installments.  The X-Men movies helped build the cinematic superhero landscape we have today, for better and for worse.  The themes about social prejudice are strong and resonant, the performances and action are usually top-notch, and the seeing some classic mutants and their powers in live action is tons of fun.  But not all X-Men films are created equal.  Days of Future Past (2014), would have been a nice ending to the series, giving the characters happy endings and hopeful futures.  Yet X-Men: Apocalypse was put into production right away, led once again by the series' best director Bryan Singer, and retaining the cast from the second series of movies that started with First Class.  The resulting film is undoubtedly the most average of all the X-Men movies.  There are high highs and low lows, and I admire its ambition.  But more than a few nagging problems hold it back from being top tier.

Thank you for letting me in.

It's the '80s!  An ancient evil has awakened from an Egyptian tomb, and slowly alerts the entire world of his presence.  His name is En Sabah Nur (Oscar Isaac), or for our purposes, Apocalypse.  Meanwhile, it's been ten years since we've seen the X-Men fight the Sentinels at the White House, where Eric Lehnsherr/Magneto (Michael Fassbender) tried to kill the president.  He was stopped by Raven/Mystique (Jennifer Lawrence), Charles Xavier (James McAvoy), Hank McCoy/Beast (Nicholas Hoult), and Logan/Wolverine (Hugh Jackman), and saved the future thanks to time travel shenanigans. Since then, Mystique has become something of an icon for the mutant community, Xavier has started the mutant school he always wanted, and Magneto has settled down with a family in Poland.  As Apocalypse becomes more of a threat, we meet "new" mutants (to this timeline anyway) at Xavior's school such as Scott Summers/Cyclops (Tye Sheridan), Jean Grey/Jean Grey (Sophie Turner), and Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler (Kodi Smit-McPhee) while getting reintroduced to others like Peter Maximoff/Quicksilver (Evan Peters).  Much mutant-on-mutant fighting occurs in the interim.

You wanted me to get out of the house more, right?

X-Men: Apocalypse is trying to be a character-driven movie, but it's pushing against an epic good vs. evil story.  X-Men is at its best when it's about conflicting ideologies, questioning the nature of identity vs societal norms, and letting the audience watch larger-than-life characters just hang out and just be themselves.  Apocalypse features some of that, but it also saddles itself with an "end of the world" story that weighs it down and incorporates too many cliches to be truly compelling.  That may be the movie's biggest problem, but it has hoards of annoyances, including character overload, tonal shifts that could give you whiplash, and a cast that looks more or less the same as they did about five years ago, but are supposed to be twenty years older.  The effects work also seems to have taken a step backward from Days of Future Past, which is a major disappointment (look no further than a shot of Olivia Munn free falling from the sky that looks like a PS2 video game, or a bizarrely awful CGI tree).   Don't even get me started on all the continuity crap it screws up (not that this series has been concerned with steady continuity up until this point), life's too damn short.

Hope that's the last we've seen of that guy...

I think I would have been more satisfied with a film that focused more on the characters we already know and developing them further.  Instead, the character roster is essentially doubled, cheapening the new characters' stories as well as the old ones'.  But hey, I said I actually liked this movie, right? McAvoy and Fassbender give their typically great performances, and the new cast fills the roles of their characters well enough.  Evan Peters steals every scene he's in, especially during a slow-motion rescue scene that rivals the very best (and the screen has no shortage of them).  I also admit that I liked the schlocky appeal of Isaac's Apacalypse, even if it's the main cause of the movie's tonal dissonance.  That being said, there are plenty of emotional scenes that hit hard, as well as excellent comedic bits and one-liners.

Together we will cleanse the Earth for the strongest...

The movie's CG effects may be lacking in spots, but the physical effects like makeup, costumes, and sets look fantastic. The action is solid too, especially when it comes to a certain fight between Apocalypse and Professor X.  John Ottman returns to deliver a good score, though it's not especially memorable.  Some synthesizers could have gone a long way to flavor the movie with some retro '80s charm.  And despite how unwieldy the production can be at times, like Spider-Man 3, it's hard not to be impressed by the ambition.  I will always take sincere love for the filmmaking craft over a brick that a studio shits out simply to keep a name brand alive.  Remove a few of the cliches, make the stakes a bit more personal, and tighten up the effects, and you have yourself a solid X-Men movie.

It's all of us, against a god...

Bryan Singer clearly loves the franchise, and that's evidenced by the way he puts the characters and their emotions at the forefront of the action.  There are family dynamics explored, friendships form (or reform), and the actors have the opportunity to fill their classic comic book characters with life.  There's a harder edge to the X-Men movies have that the Disney Marvel movies lack, and I greatly appreciate them for that.   So what's next for the franchise?  They have all the pieces in place for another great film, so I sincerely hope that the next movie doesn't take place in the 90s and we need to be introduced to yet another team of characters.  Use what you've got, Singer!  Develop the characters you already have and give us something great to go out on.  End this god damn franchise before it's too late.  Can we give another X-Men TV series a try?

Oh, and Deadpool needs to cameo in the next film.  Needs. To.

6/10


    

Hail, Ceasar!

Would that it were so simple.

While reflecting on the movies I saw in 2016, I realized I'd completely forgotten that I'd seen the Cohen brothers' Hail, Caesar! back in February.  Then I couldn't remember if I loved it or if I was disappointed in it.  Turns out it was a little of both.  It may not be the best film the Cohens have produced, but might just be the one that they've injected the most love into.  The experience is akin to being taken on a tour of a Hollywood studio in the 1950s, lingering on each set long enough to see the glamour and longer still to see the behind-the-scenes ugliness.  It's overflowing with talent and charm, but ultimately, something lacks about Hail, Caesar!   We expect a Cohen brothers movie to take us on a wild trip, for the story to be air-tight, and for the look and dialogue to be dripping with style.  The film has the last part down pat, but it struggles to gel into a cohesive whole, and so the end result leaves one feeling a bit cold.

It's really too often.  You're not that bad.

In Hollywood, California, 1951, Eddie Manix (Josh Brolin) works as a "fixer."   It's his job to make sure that the undesirable and scandalous behavior of Capitol Pictures stars is kept out of the press. This is no easy feat, with actresses like DeeAnna Moran (Scarlett Johansson) getting pregnant out of wedlock and journalists like the Thacker sisters (both played by Tilda Swinton) breathing down Manix's neck.  Meanwhile, actor Baird Whitlock (George Clooney) of a major production called Hail, Caesar! A Tale of the Christ is kidnapped by a communist group calling themselves "The Future," demanding $100,000 for his release.  Along with this craziness, we are witness to the likes of Hobie Doyle (Alden Ehrenreich), a Western star who is being shoehorned into a period drama directed by Laurence Laurentz (Ralph Fiennes), and Burt Gurney (Channing Tatum), a musical comedy star who gets mixed up in the Whitlock kidnapping.  This is all accompanied by outstanding musical numbers, gorgeous nostalgic cinematography, and great actors exchanging entertaining dialogue.

It's part of the job.

So what in God's name is my problem with this movie?  Even typing out that description got me excited to watch the it again.  Without going into specifics, the plotting is weak.  The story is barely starting to come together after tons of exposition and setup, and where does it get us?  Kind of a thud of an ending.  It's such a shame, because brimming beneath this good movie is a fucking great one the likes of which could have rivaled The Big Lebowski for best Cohen brothers comedy.  But the end result is just nowhere near that, and I'm aware that this kind of critiquing is just plain unfair.  All the pieces are there, but they wander around aimlessly and never come together in a satisfying way.

Someone's calling from the future?

Hail, Caesar! is a straightforward film that both honors Old Hollywood films while satirizing its practices ("owning" actors, shuffling them around in different roles they aren't suited for, and working diligently to cover up their seedy personal lives).  The way the film indulges in its faux movie scenes is done so lovingly and honestly that I wished I could see an entire movie based around each one.  The choreography, camerawork, and editing that lets us really see the dancing the way a Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly movie does.   I love the way the film takes place in its own world. There aren't any mentions of "real" actors, directors, or even studios; everything is self-contained, yet characteristic of the times.

The cast is all-around excellent.  While Brolin carries the film with ease, my favorite dynamics are between Fiennes and Ehrenreich, who are clearly having so much fun playing two characters forced to work together, knowing they can't work together, but just being so damned polite and earnest with each other to try and make it all work.  I'd watch a whole movie about these two.  In fact, any one of the subplots could have been expanded into their own, fully fleshed-out stories and fared much better.  Poor Jonah Hill, for all his hype in the advertising, is only in one major scene.  I can forgive it all though, for Hail, Caesar! looks absolutely fantastic.  Shooting on actual film rather than digitally lends the cinematography richness and color that helps transport us back to the '50s, in addition to just looking flat-out gorgeous.

Go out there and be a star.

There's great value in Hail, Caesar!  It comes from the crew's commitment to making something that a general audience may not necessarily appreciate, but that film fans will absolutely gush over.  And speaking as a film fan, I can't help but be grateful that it exists at all, never mind that it has moments of genuine brilliance.  But as a movie, its story disappoints, its pace is leisurely to a fault, and while the characters have outstanding introductions, they aren't as well-developed as they should be.  This is sort of an overlooked gem when it comes to 2016 movies, but I'm not going to cry foul over that.  I paid to see a passion project, and that's what I got.  Other passion projects by less talented filmmakers may have turned out better in the past, but they've certainly turned out worse. 

7/10

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Aw, I wanna be a wizard...

It's been a long five years since the Harry Potter franchise bowed out, and many of us are primed and ready for another chance to peek into J.K. Rowling's uncommonly well-realized wizarding world.  I don't think many people expect Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them to be an equal match for its parent franchise, so Fantastic Beasts really doesn't.  The film's creation is convoluted as hell, but it's also kind of fascinating.  Rather than being based on an existing story, it follows the adventures of a wizard who wrote a textbook called Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them in the Harry Potter universe, referenced occasionally by the characters. So it's essentially the story behind a book within a book.  However, none of that is important for full enjoyment of the film, which stands on its own as a fun, quirky trip.

Imperfect understanding is often more dangerous than ignorance.

The story is appropriately lightweight, but Rowling's darker tendencies make sure seep through now and again.  In 1926, a wizard named Newt Scamander (Eddie Redmayne) from Britain arrives in New York City with a suitcase filled with dozens of incredible magical creatures.  Naturally, after a suitcase mix-up with a non-magical prospective baker named Jacob Kowalski (Dan Fogler), the creatures escape and cause chaos among the ignorant New Yorkers  (called "no-majs" by the wizards).  A former Auror (basically the magic police) named Tina (Katherine Waterston) arrests Newt for being an unregistered wizard, but the President (Carmen Ejogo) has more pressing matters to worry about.  No-majs have been suspicious of magical activity, an unseen entity has been causing damage, and the dark wizard Grindelwald is on the loose.  Meanwhile, Newt, Kowalski, Tina, along with her psychic sister Queenie (Alison Sudol) search the city for the titular fantastic beasts while avoiding the shifty Director of Magical Security, Percival Graves (Colin Farrell).

What makes Albus Dumbledore so fond of you, Mr. Scamander?

It's nice to see David Yates back in the director's chair after helming the entire second half of the Potter series, and he brings back his grounded sensibilities while thankfully adding a touch of whimsy to keep things fun.  Fantastic Beasts is a good example of a movie that knows what it is, rather than one built on cliches and preoccupied with delivering fan service.  There are references to Harry Potter lore, but the story doesn't linger on them.  The strengths of the film lie in the character interactions, with Kowalski and Queenie's relationship standing chief among them.  The creatures themselves don't disappoint, each given a distinctive personality and very cool design.  I naturally would have preferred to see more practical effects, which tend to hold up better over time.  It's an important factor when you want your movie to feel timeless, which Fantastic Beasts most definitely does.  The period piece setting is a lot of fun, and the screenplay's lack of modern snark lends the movie charm and likability.

New York is considerably more interesting than expected.

I think likable is the best way to describe the movie as a whole.  It has a bit of exciting action (moments of camera-swooping that recall the opening shot of Half-Blood Prince are actually amazing), but the movie sails mostly on moments of awe and the joy of discovery.  So much of how the world works is shown to us rather than explained, with the first look into Newt's suitcase shining as the standout moment of the film.  Connection to the main characters is easy, though I will say that Waterston's performance as Tina felt a little wooden.  If there was supposed to be any kind of romance between her and Newt, I certainly didn't feel it.  As for the villain's story, I haven't made up my mind about whether or not I liked it.  It's a touch confusing to be honest, so hopefully subsequent viewings will be kind to it.  Additionally, there's a late twist involving Graves that wasn't tied to the main story enough to really resonate.

Hey! Mr. English Guy! I think you're egg is hatched...

Fantastic Beasts is funny, warm, and pretty much everything I hoped it would be.  We finally get to see Rowling's world from a new perspective, in a new country, and with new characters that are focused on completely different issues than the characters in the Harry Potter series.  A great bit of world-building comes in the way social norms among the magical community differ between England and America, specifically when it comes to house elf slavery and marriage between no-majs and wizards.  It's all very captivating, as expected.  As a visual experience, there's plenty to love (though a bit more vibrancy wouldn't have hurt), and the characters are endearing and well-developed.  As for being the start of a new franchise?  I don't know, it felt good enough to stand on its own.  I won't begrudge Warner Bros. for trying to milk their franchise, but I will never forgive them if they screw it up.  They're off to a good start, but Rowling is clearly the key to making it all work.  As long as Rowling and producer David Heyman stay as involved and enthusiastic as they seemed to be on this project, here's hoping that good times lie ahead.

8/10

Year of the Turtle

The world's most fearsome fighting team.  Also adorable.

Over the course of 2016, I went from not being able to tell the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles apart to knowing far too much about them for anyone's good.  Leonardo (blue) leads.  Donatello (purple) does machines.  Raphael (red) is cool, but rude.  Michelangelo (orange) is a party dude.  They also like pizza and surfer slang, despite having grown up in the sewers of New York.  Some people get into this stuff when they're six, some when they're twenty-six.  What brought about this sudden... um... interest in the heroes in a half shell is beyond me.  I'm a child of the '90s, so I sort of missed out on Turtle Mania when it was at its peak.  It was probably morbid curiosity more than anything.  Plus I have a weird love of all things '80s, good and bad, so maybe this was inevitable.  In any case, in the span of one year, I watched all six theatrically-released movies (including one in an actual theater), the first few episodes of the original series, a bit of the series from the 2000s, a chunk of the new CG-animated show, and read the first few Mirage comics.  And even after all that, it's hard to pin down what makes this strange, funny, and shlock-tastic series so endearing to people.  As I kid I probably would have liked it for its surface details.  As an adult, there's entertainment value to be found in its unpredictable goofiness and its occasionally darker sense of humor.  Plus, that theme song's really grown on me.

So rather than try and give you several long-winded reviews of each part of the franchise, it might be more fun to just get my brief thoughts on the shows and movies in bite-sized pieces.  The original comic is not meant for kids, so the shock value of seeing the turtles swear and stab people to death was enough to peak my interest.  It was a parody of the ninja fad, the grim-and-gritty sensibilities of '80s comics, and more specifically, Daredevil.  To sell a toy line in 1987, creators Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird teamed up with Playmates Toys, who funded an animated television series.  The show was HUGE, running for ten seasons and spanning a literal empire's worth of merchandise.  It was very different from the comics, loaded with pun-heavy dialogue, standard Saturday morning villains and plots (likely even setting the standard), and from what I can tell, not much in the way of character development.  It has its charm though, and it's at its best when it's tongue is firmly in its cheek.  The subsequent animated series from the mid-2000s isn't really my cup of tea... it's certainly a better show in terms of its writing and animation, but it's not a lot of fun to watch.  The current series, which began airing in 2012, blows both of them (and each theatrical film) out of the water.  It's constantly playing with the tropes of the franchise and cartoon shows in general, frequently filled with hilarious dialogue, solid action, and great voice acting.   There's even (gasp) character development and plot progression!  Its animation takes some getting used to unfortunately, but if you can get past the wooden appearances of the human characters, it's legitimately a worthwhile show.  Who'd have guessed?

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990)

The first feature is about as good and bad as one would expect. It's such a dumb movie, but I'll admit that I kind of liked it.  You get the sense that a lot of the people involved with this project were making a feature film for the first time (it's technically an independent film after all), leaving the movie with consistently awkward scenes and a radically shifting tone.  Combining elements from the comics and the cartoon show leads to some very strange moments (look no further than a scene featuring a hand-puppet rat learning karate), but it's in the strangeness and clear desire to be "gritty" that the entertainment value can be found.  There are a few "damns" and "hells" thrown around, there's some child smoking, and the violence is just a bit harsher than what you expect from a typical kids' movie.  It may have been released in 1990, but it's pure '80s shlock.  It's made with heart and genuine effort (especially from the Jim Henson company), even if the end results are mixed.


Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze (1991)

Nothing could prepare me for Secret of the Ooze.  Nothing.  This movie is batshit insane.  I was locked in a constant state of bewilderment, never knowing what the hell was going to happen next.  It may be a direct sequel to the first movie, but because of the casting changes and the much lighter tone, it feels like a different beast entirely.  I'm talking cartoon sound effects, a plot that feels like it's being made up on the spot (which is entirely possible; they shat this thing out in less than a year after all), and the script is full of puns and bad jokes galore.  It's a slicker film than the first, to be sure, but I missed the cursing and overall edge the first movie had.  Still, I laughed my ass off throughout the movie's hour and a half (which felt SO much longer), and I'm ecstatic to call Secret of the Ooze one of my new favorite so-bad-it's-good movies. Thank you so much, Vanilla Ice.




Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III: Turtles in Time (1993)

This one was rough.  Not shlock, not so-bad-it's-good, just bad. The first two films are trash, but at least there's some semblance that the folks behind the scenes were trying to make an entertaining movie.  Turtles in Time feels more like a cheesy kids' tv show with a high budget.  We have more casting changes, the tone is even lighter than the last movie, and gone are the Jim Henson animatronics.  Everything's just so clunky; scenes start and stop without flowing into each other, the acting and dialogue are atrocious, and there's this constant noise filling the soundtrack that is absolutely grating.  The characters just seem to have to be saying something every second, as if the filmmakers thought kids would get bored if there wasn't constant aural clutter.  The time travel plot could have worked fine, but it's executed so poorly.  No one cared about this one, and it's clear from minute one that you're in for an all around terrible time.



TMNT (2007)

Fast-forwarding fifteen years, and we randomly run into a little oddity called TMNT.  I wasn't sure if the film would try and tie-in to the live action trilogy, but that's definitely not the case. This all-CG version exists in its own universe, but confusingly, you kind of need to know a lot about the characters (feeling for the first time like actual characters) to get enjoyment out of it. It feels like a sequel to a movie that doesn't exist.  There's still some stupidity to be found when it comes to the story, but objectively speaking, it's the best of the theatrical movies.  It has a stellar voice cast, way less corny dialogue, and a few scenes between Leo and Raph that are, without a doubt, the best the franchise has to offer.  Some things hold it back from being legitimately good though, like a hackneyed villain plot and less than top-notch animation.  CGI is not kind to human characters.  They look like marionettes in the new TV series and they look like melting Barbie dolls in this movie.  However, the film is not without style, and it's too bad there was never a follow-up film that takes place in this continuity.


Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2014)

There's a difference between a movie that wants to be something but doesn't quite get there, and a movie that shoots for the lowest common denominator and passes with flying colors.  The Michael Bay-produced Ninja Turtles movies fall into the latter category, and bring with them a very unappealing layer of sleaze.  The first film in this new series is a hard reboot for the franchise, giving the Turtles and April O'Neill a new "origin" story that just does not work at all.  Everything about this movie just screams "unlikable," from the way the turtles look (despite their motion-capture animation being well-executed) to all of the creepy sexual innuendo.  I liked the original movie for it's edge, but this isn't edgy.  It's just sleazy.  The attempts to ape the success of the Transformers movies are very apparent, and the way it's shot and cast makes it resemble a commercial rather than a movie.  With so much money behind it, it's too bad the creative team couldn't have delivered a genuinely good Ninja Turtles movie for once.  I guess I give them props for that joke about the hip-hop Christmas album though.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows (2016)

Out of the Shadows may be a marked improvement over its predecessor, but it's by no means a good movie.  Bay stayed on to produce, so the sleaze is still there in truckloads, and the story is still godawful.  But it's more awful in an "'80s cartoon" way, and you know what?  I'll take that over the generic awful that was slathered all over the 2014 version.  There's an abundant use of color, the action is a bit more fun, there are far more characters from the original cartoon present, and there's at least some attempt to get a character moment or two from the titular characters.  There's a sense that some of the creative higher-ups were trying to give fans of the franchise something they'd actually like, and while I still think they failed, it says something that they tried.  The movie bombed pretty hard at the box office, so I think we're safe from another Bay Turtles movie for now.  Thank God for that.

So what can we take away from all of this?  Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles started as a joke, then it became an empire.  Its various adaptations have been so wildly different, and the quality range is a nightmare roller coaster.  But man, is it pretty fun to ride.  I now have Secret of the Ooze for my next bad movie night, a solid animated series that's still running today, and there's admittedly a charming "awesome" factor when it comes to the original comic, cartoon, and first movie.  However, my head hurts from thinking about this crap for too long, so I think I'll wait a bit before dumpster-diving into more '80s pop culture.  Crap, now I'm hungry for pizza.

Cowabunga, dude.