"Whalefall" - Inner space.

Whalefall is probably the best movie one can make about a human being trying to survive being swallowed by a whale. That's not a compliment. Whalefall is not a very good movie. During the first half, I had a very strong urge to walk out of the theater, which is extremely rare for me. And I say that as someone who has sat through multiple entire Colleen Hoover movies. During the second half of Whalefall, I was laughing at how silly the movie became. But this movie isn't really about surviving a whale's digestive tract. It's about father and son relationships. Because nothing's as good a metaphor for father-son relationships as stomach acid and bile.

Let's get the big issue out of the way first - suspension of disbelief. Can a human survive being fully swallowed by a whale? No. Did I look into this at all? Of course I did. You think the guy whose top five movie concerns are plot, plot, character development, plot, and absolutely-no-Dakota-Johnson-ever-again wouldn't look up what's in whale innards?

But I didn't look it up so I could take the movie to task over it. It's the premise of the movie and I'm perfectly willing to accept the premise. Just like I'm willing to accept the premise of transforming alien robots or haunted dolls or Dwayne Johnson. I looked it up out of curiosity and discovered that (a) no and (b) the filmmakers added as much realism as they could, but they also took a lot of liberties because, again, no.

So how does this human end up in a whale's gullet? Jay (Austin Abrams) returns home for his father Mitt's (Josh Brolin) funeral. Mitt committed suicide by drowning himself off the coast and Jay decides to search for Mitt's body because "it's something I feel like I have to do." While Jay is searching the ocean floor, a sperm whale is trying to catch and eat a giant squid. As the whale is attempting to swallow the squid, the whale swims past Jay and the squid snatches Jay with one of its tentacles. I saw this entire chase sequence in a preview a couple of months ago and it is easily the highlight of the film. It's dramatic, it's intense, it's visually and auditorily fantastic. It's the kind of scene that's so well done you feel like you are experiencing every sensation that Jay feels and you find yourself peeling your fingernail out of the armrest of your seat after the screen cuts to black.

Before Jay wakes up, we're treated to the first of many flashbacks where a younger Jay is being berated by Mitt. Usually, he's being berated over scuba diving lessons or how the ocean is being destroyed by people or even just because Mitt condescends that aquariums are "fake ocean." These scenes aren't quite as uncomfortable as the scenes inside the whale, but they're in the same ballpark. If you had an overbearing father who was a mean drunk and verbally (if not physically) abusive, you might prefer the whale stomach scenes. On a related note, wow is Josh Brolin a good actor.

These flashback scenes aren't the reason I debated leaving the theater. About ten minutes into the scenes inside the whale, after Jay wakes up, my ick factor was through the roof. It's not that I can't handle body parts or gore or gross scenes in general. It's just that these scenes in particular repulsed everything in me and my brain went "Do you really want to sit through ninety more minutes of this?" I think it was the combination of the Dolby theater pumping the bodily sounds (muscular contractions, dripping, squishing) at a million decibels, Jay's panic-filled actions, the claustrophobic setting (Jay doesn't have much room to move around), and the visuals all working in the exact right way to trigger my flight response. Nothing about it was enjoyable and brain made sure I knew it.

I think that was the real reason for the flashbacks. From a narrative perspective, I know those flashbacks were for character development and metaphorically linking past events to each scene inside the whale. But really, it was to give our brains a break from the ick every few minutes. At least, it was until the movie decided to get an unintentional sense of humor.

Two scenes had me laughing out loud at their absurdity. The first was when the whale has half of its body sticking vertically out of the ocean and Jay is clinging to the whale's voice box, screaming for help at the top of his lungs at a distant boat filled with whale watchers (he can hear the boat and occasionally see it when the whale lowers its constantly-open-for-some-reason mouth). Hilariously, this scene is less silly than when Jay starts conversing with the whale and the whale is talking back in Mitt's voice. Obviously, this is meant to show Jay's reconciliation with his feelings about his dad. But it comes off like a pie to the face. Especially when it becomes a series of deus ex machinas. I think movies are allowed to have one deus ex machina, not six.

Ultimately, I made it through to the end of the film. I was glad it was over for multiple reasons and the ickiness ended up being the least of those reasons. A small reason was I annoyed at Jay for much of the movie for two things. (1) He decided to go searching for his father underwater, in a kelp field, on a cloudy, stormy day...without a flashlight. (2) He kept taking his goggles off inside the whale. Yeah, maybe his dad was onto something with all his berating. Mostly I was glad it was over because, throughout my viewing, I kept thinking of two other better movies that shared similarities with Whalefall. The first was Buried because it also featured a guy trapped in a tiny space trying to get out. The second was Innerspace, featuring Dennis Quaid zipping around inside Martin Short's body in a tiny little ship. Whalefall is the exact wrong ratio of Buried to Innerspace. For most of us, at least. Depends on how you feel about your father and/or whale guts.

Rating: Ask for twelve dollars back and don't say I didn't warn you.

"The Social Reckoning" - Like and share.

My favorite thing about writer/director Aaron Sorkin is his ability to frame complicated topics in ways that are easily understood. Whether it's A Few Good Men, Charlie Wilson's War, The Social Network, The Trial of the Chicago 7, or any episode of The West Wing, you will understand whatever you just watched when the credits roll. As an added bonus, Sorkin's writing makes for very engrossing viewing, no matter the topic. He made Moneyball a riveting watch about baseball statistics. Think about that act of wizardry for a moment (and I say this as a pathological baseball fan). His latest film, The Social Reckoning is no different.

Since I know you're wondering, The Social Reckoning is not a sequel to the The Social Network. Yes, Sorkin wrote both films. Yes, they are both about Facebook. Yes, both feature a portrayal of Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg as a loathsome sack of shit. But that's the end of the connection. Reckoning doesn't pick up where Network left off. Reckoning doesn't try to tell us what's happened in the sixteen years between films. Reckoning doesn't even keep Zuckerberg as its main character. Reckoning is about an algorithm. And you thought baseball statistics were mundane.

More specifically, The Social Reckoning is about the impact of Facebook's algorithm on Facebook's users. To frame this topic, Sorkin focuses on two things. One is the investigation by a journalist and whistleblower that led to the Wall Street Journal's appropriately titled series published in 2021 - The Facebook Files: A Wall Street Journal Investigation. The other is Zuckerberg being prepped by his assistants for an upcoming congressional testimony. The investigation took place from 2019 to 2021 and Zuckerberg's prep occurs on January 6, 2021. So, the film jumps back and forth between the two as they progress to their respective climaxes. To avoid any confusion, the film shows a timeline on the screen every time one of these transitions occurs. I told you - easy to understand.

Before you start watching this movie, you should know that it will make you mad at several points. Well, probably make you mad. Depends on how you feel about a drunk asshole verbally accosting two cops for the sin of stopping to check on the asshole because the asshole's car was belching a ton of smoke from its engine. Especially when that drunk asshole veers her assault into some wildly virulent racism. And if my repeated use of the word asshole upsets you, you really, really shouldn't see this movie. Because asshole is the nicest word I can think of to describe her and it's not the toughest scene in the movie to watch. Also, this scene is how the movie opens.

It's an important scene for so many reasons, but its primary purpose is to establish a motivation for the whistleblower, Facebook employee Frances Haugen (Mikey Madison). Frances is a real person who worked in Facebook's civic integrity team to combat misinformation spread by Facebook posts. The opening scene includes the asshole recording her encounter and posting the video online. Frances recognizes the asshole as a past friend and is alarmed at how radicalized that friend had become, knowing that much of it had to do with her former friend's online presence. Being a data scientist, Frances does some digging through internal Facebook files and comes up with some very alarming statistics.

Around the same time, investigative journalist Jeff Horwitz (Jeremy Allen White) takes an assignment to cover Facebook. His intuition tells him something is terribly wrong with Facebook (and social media in general), so he starts digging. Eventually, Frances contacts him and the two develop a working relationship over several months. And by working relationship, I mean she drips information to him in very small parts because she really believes in Facebook's mission (connecting people) and doesn't want to get fired (or worse). As the investigation develops, we can see how Sorkin uses it to explain the issue in simple terms. Horwitz has the technical acumen of a marble and Frances continually reminds him (and us) about it. This allows the movie to explain things like algorithms and MSI (meaningful social interactions) in very simple terms and in an organic manner while not interrupting the flow of the film. And it does the same thing in the opposite direction, with Horwitz constantly trying to explain how journalism and reporting really works.

The same thing goes for the Zuckerberg scenes. In those scenes, he (Jeremy Strong) is constantly displaying an aura of "I'm smarter than everyone" vibe, if not outright saying it. Conversely, an old friend-turned-critic, Charlie Garrigan (Bill Burr), spars with Zuckerberg while Zuckerberg is trying to answer questions they expect Congress to ask. Garrigan keeps explaining to Zuckerberg what he is missing or ignoring by, among other things, refusing to stop platforming political ads containing misinformation and lies. Like with Horwitz and Haugen, we have two people with very different knowledge backgrounds, but this time it's both a political discussion (Garrigan explaining to Zuckerberg) and business discussion (Zuckerberg explaining to Garrigan). And again, everything is spoken in very clear terms so that the audience doesn't get lost in all of the dialogue.

Of course there is a lot of dialogue - this is a Sorkin piece. He's the exact opposite of the man of few words. But it's always a good thing, especially because Sorkin (and his associates) always seems to find the perfect actors for his screenplays. No matter how good his writing is, it only works with good performances. And this film is packed with great performances. Madison turns in a layered performance that makes her Haugen sympathetic, frustrating, strong, and meek all at the same time. In other words, a very, very human performance. White gives us a reporter who we definitely want to see succeed. He's kind, understanding, very direct with his intentions, and never makes you think he has motives other than to help people through his journalism. Strong is excellent as well; all the proof you need being that you want to punch his Zuckerberg's stupid, condescending, greedy face. Just like the actual Zuckerberg. And then there's Burr, who is so good that you'll forget he made his name as a stand-up comedian. Like John Leguizamo in The Odyssey, Burr deserves a lot of consideration for a best-supporting actor Oscar.

At this point, you probably want to know is if Reckoning is better, as good as, or worse than The Social Network. Honestly, I don’t know. It’s been sixteen years since I saw that movie and I don’t remember much about any more. Just that by the time it was over, I wanted someone to punch Zuckerberg’s (Jesse Eisenberg) stupid face. Still do.

Rating: Don’t ask for any money back, no matter what the algorithm says.

"Resident Evil" - Never thought I would see the day.

My first memory of the Resident Evil video game franchise goes all the way back to my college years. I was in a friend's dorm room seeing a Sony PlayStation for the first time. There were half a dozen or so of us and we were there to play Resident Evil 2. We started up the game, shut off the lights, and proceeded to be wildly entertained and more than a little freaked out at what proceeded on the TV. It was awesome. That is the moment I was hooked on both the Resident Evil games and PlayStation in general.

Since that day, there have now been eight Resident Evil films made. In terms of quality, they've ranged from kind-of-not-terrible to oh-dear-god-not-like-that. I'll let you decide which is which. Regardless, I think you'll agree that the expectations going into this second reboot (and eighth film) of the franchise (I had no idea there was a previous reboot attempt until ten seconds ago) are properly set at please-just-don't-suck. And, holy cow did it definitely not suck.

Clearly, director/writer Zach Cregger had a very similar experience with Resident Evil games as I did. I'll admit that my recollection of the previous movies is really fuzzy, but I recall them focusing way too much on the underlying plot. You know, the Umbrella Corporation's genetically modified virus getting out of their labs and turning people into zombies and other assorted monsters. While they got that story mostly right, that isn't why people loved those games. We loved them because they scared us while we played them. We loved the various little puzzles we had to solve to move forward in the game. We loved the blood splatter when dispatching monsters. We even loved how we had to ration ammunition for the weapons our characters found, practically squealing with glee every time we found a box of shotgun shells. And after watching Cregger's Resident Evil film, it's obvious he loved those things as well.

The quickest way to describe this new film is it made me feel like I was in that dorm room again. We're watching a character on the screen trying to solve various little puzzles while dodging or killing zombies and monsters on his way to a final destination. Specifically, Bryan (Austin Abrams) is a courier for hospitals and is assigned with taking a life-saving item to the Raccoon City hospital. That's it. That's the entire plot.

Any fan of the games will recognize this structure. Again, that’s why we liked the games. We’re everyone in the dorm watching the person with the controller get Bryan to the final destination. To get there, Bryan has to go through a farm house, a dark tunnel filled with cars, sewer systems, alleys, and the hospital itself. Bryan has to find ammo for a shotgun, a semi-automatic rifle, and pistol, all guns he discovers along the way. He’ll have run-ins with people who are definitely monsters and a handful of survivors who may not survive much longer. There’s even a typewriter. Did Bryan ever find an ink ribbon for it so he could save his game? Who cares!?

If it wasn’t enough that Cregger absolutely nailed capturing the feeling of the game, he even managed to weave a perfect amount of comic relief through the film. The biggest mistake earlier films in the franchise made was taking themselves way too seriously. Much like Cregger’s previously film Weapons, Resident Evil has sequences where the tension builds to boiling, then a perfectly timed line or sight gag defuses it just enough to let the audience breathe. And it’s doubly important in Resident Evil because the jump scares are plentiful. I know it’s the most used trope in the horror genre, but I’ll be damned if every single jump scare in Resident Evil works. The crazy thing is they work even when we’re expecting them.

While I’m geeking out over every part of this film, let me recognize how well Abrams carries this entire film. For the vast majority of it, he’s the only person on screen. He delivers exactly the right performance for an every-man just trying to survive the night. Well done, good sir. Now find that ink ribbon so you don’t lose your progress.

Rating: Don’t ask for any money back. Not only is it the best Resident Evil movie, it’s one of the best movies of the year.