With Love, Meghan Episode One: Hello, Honey!

 

WITH LOVE, MEGHAN: HELLO, HONEY!

Original Airdate: March 4, 2025

Special Guest: Daniel Martin

Mentions of "Joy": 4

Passive/Aggressive Moment: 1

Gushing Praise for Markle: "You've always sent me home with incredible things, but this basket, it goes back to like, doing things with intention".

I made the foolish mistake of having a poll asking if I should review With Love, Meghan as a whole or episode by episode. With the results in, I now dive into the first episode of the Duchess of Sussex's woefully misguided efforts to be a domestic influencer. Hello, Honey! the premiere episode, sets the tone for the entire lifestyle series. That tone is one of insincerity, tedium and almost posh vulgarity.

Meghan Markle is going to be hosting her friend, makeup artist Daniel Martin, to her home. While she is filming Hello, Honey! at a rented home and not her real home, she does tell the crew that Daniel will be staying at her home. She prepares a lavish basket for him. One part of her version of the swag bag includes snacks such as peanut butter pretzels, which she takes out of the product bag to put into another bag in one of With Love, Meghan's more infamous moments.

"Uncle Daniel" to the Duke and Duchess of Sussex's children, Martin has been Meghan's close friend since 2010 when they met while working on her television series Suits. Daniel will join her in fun activities like making a cake and beeswax candles. Despite getting a cut while slicing, Daniel carries on with all the fun activities. We learn How to Harvest Honey by going back to when Meghan, who admits to not caring about honey before, learns to harvest it from "Beekeeper Branden". We then shift to Baking a Honey Lemon Cake, sparking memories of Daniel test-tasting Meghan's wedding cake. He initially remembers it as lemon elderberry, and Meghan quickly corrects him in that it was elderflower. 

Technically, Daniel does not bake the cake. Meghan has already gone through the trouble of having baked it earlier. Instead, they will decorate it with the frosting. "Baking is not my favorite thing, but I will do it for one of my favorite people", she informs the viewer. With the candles made and ready for Daniel to take back to New York, he and his BFF can relax out in the massive backyard, admiring the mountains. Meghan contemplates having Daniel do a little hike the next time that he is there. Daniel's somewhat startled reaction to the suggestion hints that while he loves spending time with Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, this is not his idea of a good time.

Watching Hello, Honey! (which I figure is a pun with regards both the honey harvesting and her dear friend visiting), I pictured Meghan Markle as akin to a crazed summer camp counselor who is determined to force the kids to have a good time no matter how much the kids hate the activities. It is almost sad seeing people, especially people with a Royal spouse, willingly humiliate themselves with their delusions of helpfulness. Seeing a former royal rush to check on the beeswax candles she has made (and made someone else also make) while exclaiming "This is so exciting!" leaves one watching with dismay and pity. 

Meghan Markle clearly sees herself as a lovely person, eager and enthusiastic about bringing "joy" to everyone. When Martin remarks that the last time that she made something for him he added ten pounds, she remarks that he should think of it as "ten pounds of joy". Judging from Hello, Honey! my sense is that she finds little to no joy in people. They are something of a burden to endure versus individuals to share things with. A very puzzling moment is when Daniel is chopping up some food and accidentally cut himself. Meghan offers support by getting a band-aid. Daniel pretty much brushes the injury off by saying that he's a lefty (left-handed, not politically on the Left, though he may be, I don't know). Markle's reaction is one of amusement, as if coming across new information. Given that they have known each other for fifteen years, it seems astonishing that she was unaware that her longtime friend Daniel Martin was left-handed. 

Daniel Martin may have been very enthusiastic about making beeswax candles and putting fruit into cakes. If he was, it never came across in Hello, Honey! He looked almost scared to suggest that they do anything other than what Markle has planned out. She certainly planned a lot of activities for him. However, speaking solely for myself, I would not want to stay with someone who'll make me bake a cake or beeswax candles as a de facto cost of being with her.

In a curious way both Hello, Honey! and With Love, Meghan has the effect of making Markle infantilize her guest. Did she ask Martin if he wanted to make beeswax candles or cakes? Did she ever suggest that he have any input into the activities that they would do on or off camera? It is almost as if Daniel Martin is less a guest and more a prop for her show. The point of Hello, Honey! and With Love, Meghan is that Markle will not be the guests' friend but teacher. By extension, she will not be our friend but our teacher, our camp counselor, our guide into better living.

That may be all well and good. However, I don't know who the target audience for With Love, Meghan is. She does not engage the viewing audience. She instead talks to the crew, especially "Michael" (whom we learn is director Michael Steed, who is essentially a disembodied voice off camera). While we see "Beekeeper Branden", we do not learn anything about him. What is his expertise with beekeeping? How did he and Markle connect? What is his last name?

It is "Aroyan", though you would have to rely on IMDB for that information. While the closing credits list the executive producer as "Meghan, Duchess of Sussex", Branden does not even get listed. 

I was almost begging for there to be a commercial break during Hello, Honey! (which is how my Netflix subscription goes). Cringe is the most apt word for this episode of With Love, Meghan. It felt as if she wanted to will joy into existence, that all these activities were fun for all. I cannot say if Daniel Martin had fun doing all this. If he did, it did not come across on screen. I as a viewer did not have fun. I have no interest in making beeswax candles or cake filling. Granted, I am not the target audience for With Love, Meghan. My question still stands: who exactly is? The viewer does not actually learn much about baking or bee harvesting. I figure that a lot of the ingredients are either a bit pricey for average viewers or perhaps a bit esoteric for them. I had never heard of "Pink Himalayan Sea Salt" until now. Is it available at Walmart?

Hello, Honey! and by extension With Love, Meghan is not so much fascinating as it is almost sad. One watches Hello, Honey! with growing dismay, leaving one wondering how a woman who a few years ago was celebrated as a new kind of British royal could willingly reduce herself to all but begging people for approval. A woman who had once sat next to The Queen as her granddaughter-in-law is now, by her own choice, publicly trapsing about a rented kitchen barefoot, bizarrely enthusiastic about putting peanut butter pretzels from one bag into another. The enthusiasm for such trifling matters is both bizarre and slightly bonkers. One wants to ask if Meghan, Duchess of Sussex is having some kind of mental breakdown where waxing poetic about the delights of writing labels will heal her mind and soul.

Sir Thomas More in A Man for All Seasons confronts a former protege who committed perjury against him. He observed that his traitorous former ally now wears a seal of office. He is informed that Richard Rich (yes, that is his name) is now Attorney General for Wales. "Why Richard", Sir Thomas observes, "it profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world. But for Wales?". In a similar vein, after watching not just Hello, Honey! but the first half of With Love, Meghan, I ask the same question. "Why Rachel, it profits a woman nothing to give her soul for the whole world. But for Montecito?"

2/10

Seven Years in Tibet: A Review (Review #2042)

 

SEVEN YEARS IN TIBET

Long before college kids were shouting "Free Palestine", their parents while in college were shouting "Free Tibet". It was en vogue to demand that the Chinese pull out of the real-life Shangri-La, but now no one seems to care about the former kingdom of the Dalai Lama. Amidst the protests and concerts for Tibet, Hollywood pitched in by making Tibet-centered films and documentaries. In 1997, there were two major films released that were about Tibet. The second released film was Kundun. The first was Seven Years in Tibet, based on the memoirs by one of the few Westerners to enter the forbidden kingdom. Seven Years in Tibet is somewhat accurate in that it feels like the film is seven years long. Oddly though, it also feels like it spends only seven minutes between the Westerner and the Holiness.

The arrogant Austrian mountain climber Heinrich Herrer (Brad Pitt) leaves his pregnant wife to conquer the high mountain Nanga Parbat. He apparently is not fond of the Third Reich that has forced the Anschluss or at least is indifferent towards it.  Despite an injury that he keeps hidden, Heinrich climbs on. Unfortunately for him as his team, the Second World War has started. As Austro-Germans, they are captured by the British and held at a prisoner-of-war camp.

The Teutonic prisoners finally manage an escape in part by donning brownface, though for once Heinrich joins them rather than attempting yet another failed solo attempt. Wandering around the Himalayas, Heinrich is eventually reunited with Nanga Parbat expedition head Peter Aufschnaiter (David Thewlis). Peter has food. Heinrich has a compass. Putting their animosity aside, they join forces and eventually stumble onto the forbidden kingdom of Tibet. 

Initially pushed out, they sneak back into Tibet and disguise themselves to enter the capital, Lhasa. Surprisingly, they are welcomed by Tibetan diplomat Kungo Tsarong (Mako), who offers them refuge in his estate. Despite looking like Brad Pitt, Heinrich loses out to Peter for the affection of seamstress Pema Lhaki (Lhakpa Tsamchoe), one of the few Tibetans who can make European clothes and who has been outside Tibet. She presumably is also able to speak German.

They settle into Tibet, where bachelor Heinrich (his wife having divorced him during his long absence and his son Rolf wanting nothing to do with him) makes himself useful. Eventually, the young Dalai Lama (Jamyang Jamtsho Wangshuk) finally meets "yellowhead" when the Dalai Lama's mother brings him for her personal audience (His Holiness' advisors being firmly against him meeting Heinrich for a private audience). The Dalai Lama is intrigued by the outside world, but the outside world is posing a great danger. The Chinese are dead set on taking Tibet. No accommodation with them short of total annexation is possible. The vaguely traitorous secretary turned official Ngawang Jigme (B.D. Wong) helps with the annexation, disgusting Heinrich. With nothing to hold him in Tibet, Heinrich now returns at long last to Vienna in 1951. Will he be able to reunite with Rolf and heal the wounds of separation?

I can't quite call Seven Years in Tibet a noble failure because I see nothing particularly noble about it. Becky Johnson's adaptation of Herrer's memoir thinks itself grand and epic and insightful about the culture clash between East and West. It sees itself as telling a tale of a man's evolution from heartless to healed. Instead, it ends up being something of a vanity project for Brad Pitt.

Pitt sports a hilarious Austrian accent that makes his turn in Inglorious Basterds look restrained by comparison. He also manages to look blonder than he normally does. It is to where one wonders if Pitt took elocution lessons from Arnold Schwarzenegger. We even get some obligatory shirtless scenes where he can show off his physical beauty. It seems almost surprising that despite being so gorgeous, Pitt manages to lose the girl to David Thewlis. Granted, Seven Years in Tibet does show that Peter's overall gentleness and kindness would charm Pema more than Heinrich's braggadocio. Still, this is Brad Pitt. It makes one wonder if things could have improved if Pitt and Thewlis had switched roles. 

At least Thewlis' Teutonic tones were not as over-the-top as Pitt's. 

As a side note, I wonder if David Thewlis is some kind of cinematic curse. He appeared in both Seven Years in Tibet and The Island of Doctor Moreau. Can a good actor be in such awful films without wondering if he has some kind of hex to him? 

I think Pitt was so focused on keeping that Conrad Veidt parody going that he forgot to actually act. This is a terrible performance. Brad Pitt never made a case as to why we should spend all these grueling hours following this obnoxious jerk. It makes things worse when the first hour of Seven Hours in Tibet is more about Harrer's mountain exploits than anything else. It is close to an hour before Heinrich and Peter even get into Lhasa. In a movie that is over two hours long, it takes an hour and seventeen minutes before Heinrich and His Holiness meet. Given how little time Heinrich and the Dalai Lama spend together in the film, one wonders how Heinrich could have served as a mentor or friend to His Holiness. 

That, more than anything, is what sinks Seven Years in Tibet. It is not about Tibet itself. It is not about Heinrich's evolution from selfish to selfless. It is not about the Dalai Lama. It is about Heinrich Harrer: Action Man. We see his mountain climbing that would have made Leni Riefenstahl jealous. We see his various daring escape attempts. We see his shrewdness in escaping Tibetan guards. We see his physical beauty. 

We do not see the metaphorical soul. We do not see the connection between this Teuton and that Tibetan. Perhaps we could say that Seven Years in Tibet is a nice travelogue with a wonderful John Williams score. 

That, however, is probably the only genuine compliment that I can hand the film. Perhaps I can be slightly more charitable in saying that David Thewlis made Peter a more interesting story. Honestly, now in retrospect, I think I would have preferred the film be about his seven-plus years in Tibet (unlike Harrer, Peter stayed with his Tibetan wife and "went native"). It would have been interesting to know what became of him.

As a side note, Harrer and Aufschnaiter's Nazi ties were at minimum downplayed and at worst completely whitewashed. 

Seven Years in Tibet is pretty (as is Brad Pitt in it). It has wonderful music, complete with Yo-Yo Ma solos. It also is slow, boring and empty. Tibet may still be occupied and have been forgotten by the new cause of "Palestine", but at least it won't have to suffer the added indignity of having to sit through Seven Years in Tibet. 

1912-2006

DECISION: D+

Him (2025): A Review

HIM (2025)

One of the most infamous lost films is Him, a 1974 gay erotic film. Why would anyone care about this particular erotic feature? Him is about, if Wikipedia is to be believed and I am not joking, a gay man who develops an erotic fixation with the life of Jesus Christ. I imagine that this Him, whose existence has been doubted, would not stop at just showing in graphic detail the contemporary young man's carnal longings. Putting aside the blasphemy this Him went into, I could not help wishing that the 2025 Him had similarly found itself a lost film. Him is more than a disaster. It is a horribly boring, nonsensical film, drowning in its vapid visuals.

Cameron Cade has grown up idolizing San Antonio Saviors quarterback Isaiah White all his life. Isaiah suffered a major injury during a major championship (the suggestion is that it is the Super Bowl, but it is called merely a championship). Nevertheless, Cameron's father insists that this is what men do: make sacrifices. "I AM HIM!", young Cam keeps shouting.

Moving on eight years, Cameron (Tyriq Withers) is now a major college quarterback who is a big-time prospect for the National Football League. He is predicted to be the GOAT (Greatest Of All Time). He might even be better than his idol Isaiah (Marlon Wayans) even if Isaiah has eight championship rings. Cameron seems on the cusp of maybe even joining his beloved San Antonio Saviors, especially with rumors that Isaiah White might finally be retiring. A shocking attack on Cameron before going to the Combine, however, might derail those chances.

Requiring head stitches that curiously resemble football laces, Cam still goes to the Combine. He runs the risk of permanent injury after his Nancy Kerrigan-like attack after suffering a major concussion. However, he cannot give up his chance. It looks, however, like he won't be able to show off his football prowess until he gets an unexpected surprise. Isaiah White has invited Cameron to train at his isolated facility. Could Isaiah be looking for a protege and successor?

Yes and no. In those seven days out there, Cameron finds himself in a charged world. There is eroticism from Isaiah's wife Elise (Julie White), a successful influencer. There are the brutal and violent training methods from Isaiah and the curious behavior of his doctor, Marco (Jim Jefferies). There are crazed and murderous Isaiah White fans who cannot allow anyone to take his place. There is also the undertone of literal demonic figures floating about Isaiah's training camp. Will Cameron fall to the shadowy forces surrounding him?

Him is director Justin Tippin's second film and first in almost a decade, having spent that time directing for television. I have never seen his directorial debut Kicks, but I sincerely hope that it is better than the boring, pretentious Him. Him is not directed. It is assaulted. You can see this in the various performances. 

This is my first encounter with Tyriq Withers. He is a very attractive man, and Him features him many times shirtless. The film even gives us a few moments of Withers nude, albeit from the back. There was so much of Withers in various stages of undress that I wondered if he was a model making his feature film debut. Withers has, like Tippin, done mostly television work. I haven't seen Withers in anything else, but Him gives him nothing to do except walk around with little clothing. Withers was shockingly emotionless throughout the film. No matter how crazed the situation, no matter what evil he witnessed, Withers looked either bored or confused. On Day IV: Resilience (each day has a title complete with Roman numeral) Cameron awakens to Isaiah literally pointing a gun at him and Withers looks quite unconcerned. One wonders how dim Cameron is. On Day II: Poise, Isaiah has Cam repeat tossing the football to his catchers. Should he fail to complete the pass, Isaiah has one of his underlings launch a football straight at someone else's face. At that point, a sane person would have quit this loony training camp and reported Isaiah to anyone. This being Him, Withers' Cameron at least to be fair looks mildly concerned but goes along with it anyway. 

I admit to finding a lot of Him comical. Tyriq Withers is a major reason for that. He did not act. He posed. Rob Gronkowski has more range as the USAA pitchman than Tyriq Withers does throughout Him. 

Not that Marlon Wayans helps any. I am not exactly sure why anyone would believe that someone like Marlon Wayans would be a professional football player, let alone someone who would easily tower over a Tom Brady physically or athletically. I figure that seeing how almost comatose Withers was, Wayans felt that he needed to be as hammy as he was. His efforts to be either quietly menacing or ferocious met with the same result: suppressed giggles to outright laughter. 

I do not know if Him aimed to make Julia Fox's Elise look creepy AF as the kids say.  I found her character unnecessary. I think the same for Naomi Grossman's Marjorie, the crazed Isaiah fan that somehow managed to break into Isaiah's tightly controlled training room and try to murder Cameron in the sauna. Looking like Lady Gaga in Joker: Folie a Deux, Grossman was to be fair going all-in on the cray-cray. I just kept wondering how she got into such a super-secure site. 

The logical reason would be that Marjorie was let in by someone who wanted Cameron dead. However, that does not make any sense on any level. The entire idea of "Isaiah White super-fans" does not make any sense on any level. Him, however, does not care about logic or plot. Whole plot points and characters, like Cameron's brother, girlfriend and mother, all pretty much are dropped mid-film. 

Him cares only about visuals. Him is self-indulgent with its portrayals of dark decadence and subtle to overt demonic imagery (the film ends with someone dragged by unseen forces into a pentagram before being ripped apart, though we do not see the dismemberment). The San Antonio Saviors have these vaguely voodoo mascots that look like the love child of Grimace and Cousin Itt. We even get a very quick shot of a parody of Leonardo da Vinci's The Last Supper with Cameron taking the place of Christ. Why exactly this blink-and-you'll-miss it moment is there is anyone's guess. 

As a side note, I find the name "San Antonio Saviors" to be so implausible that it lends itself to suggestions that Him is just downright idiotic. 

Him wants to be this creep-fest, with the various reds dominating the scenes and dismembered heads going around. There is, however, no real shock. There is some lecturing: Isaiah tells Cameron, "As a black quarterback, I had to be great to be good". Him is the worst movie that I have seen this year so far. Given the catalog of dreadful films 2025 has unleashed, it is something of an accomplishment. Him is not the GOAT. It is the goat's entrails. 

In the end, the 1974 and 2025 Him have one thing in common. They both have erotic fixations on the main character.   

DECISION: F

Truman: The Television Movie

TRUMAN

Perhaps few people were as poorly prepared to be President as Harry S. Truman. A former haberdasher who gained political office through the patronage of an infamous political boss (though Truman himself was honest), he was not welcomed into the echelons of his boss, President Franklin D. Roosevelt. When FDR died suddenly in his fourth term, then-Vice President Truman was not seen as up to the job. Truman, the television biopic based on historian David McCullough's biography of the 33rd President, is respectable but oh so dry.

Hopping about from his 1948 reelection campaign to his life in Independence, Missouri and after his reelection, Truman attempts to give much scope to how Harry Truman (Gary Sinise) rose to the Presidency. He had but one love, Bess (Diana Scarwid), but her mother and brother were not wild about Harry. As far as they are concerned, Harry is a loser.

To be fair, even Harry sometimes sees himself as a loser. That is until his reputation for honesty and his military record in World War I gains him the attention of Missouri political boss Tom Pendergast (Pat Hingle). Pendergast thinks that Harry will be the perfect stooge, but except for one very reluctant compromise involving road work that Truman knows will benefit both farmers and Pendergast's patrons, Truman steers clear of any shady business.

That reputation for honesty despite his Pendergast ties elevates him to the Senate. Here, Truman goes after war profiteers and finds himself, most reluctantly, as the compromise candidate for Vice President under Franklin D. Roosevelt. No one, least of all Harry, seems aware of how ill FDR is. Worse, Truman is essentially cut off from Roosevelt's inner circle. As such, when FDR dies and Truman ends up succeeding him as President of the United States, he is thrown into a series of maelstroms. Will he drop the bomb on Japan? Will he fire the popular General Douglas MacArthur (Daniel von Bargen) when he goes off against his Commander-in-Chief over Korea? 

Truman is well-acted and respectable. That being said, I was surprised and disappointed as to how boring Truman was. I think a major reason why Truman did not work for me is in how we simply did not get the man behind the image. This is not a reflection on Gary Sinise's performance as Harry Truman. While I do not think that Sinise got Truman's voice (sounding too nasal to my ears), I think Sinise communicated Truman's honesty and frustrations at being excluded. In a lot of ways, Harry Truman was excluded both at home from his snobbish in-laws and at work from his snobbish officials. 

Here, I think, would be a good point to look at where Truman slid off a bit. Late in the film, we are introduced to Clark Clifford (Tony Goldwyn). Who he is, why he is there, and why anyone should listen to this young man is not mentioned. He is just there and for reasons that Thomas Rickman's adaptation of McCullough's biography never makes clear, the viewer is supposed to care. Another character, Charlie Ross (Colm Feore) has a very curious death, keeling over in front of the press and staff before giving a statement for the President. People around him thought that Ross was clowning around, unaware that he had literally dropped dead in front of them.

To be fair, director Frank Pierson did not play this moment for laughs. He treated it with taste. However, I barely remember the character of Ross in Truman, so his death does not have the impact one would think that it would have to the Truman family. Moreover, the way Truman is structured, Harry famously (or infamously) threatening to punch a critic who gave his daughter Margaret a negative review of her recital comes across as more a bad outlet for grief than genuine anger at Truman's daughter getting bashed in print.

As a side note, I am surprised that Truman did not show some of the Truman Administration's more colorful and amusing moments. We don't see Harry Truman rising when the butler first enters the Oval Office. We don't see how Truman realized that the White House was a death trap when he sees a White House servant swaying as he walks across the floor, the foundation slowly crumbling due to decades of neglect. 

We don't see poor Bess Truman in her first major appearance as the new First Lady struggling to smash a champagne bottle to christen a plane (the bottle had not been properly prepared). Bess, a shy woman thrust into the spotlight, was both publicly humiliated and deeply enraged when Harry was amused. If memory serves correct, she told him that she wished she had thrown the bottle at him. 

We don't see Harry playing piano with the sultry actress Lauren Bacall sitting on top of it. Neither Bess nor Margaret, to put it mildly, were amused at the photos. I cannot recall if either Bess or Harry commented that it made him look like the piano player at a whorehouse. These little bits would have enlivened Truman. Instead, we got angry Cabinet meetings with Clark Clifford. That ought to excite viewers. Yet, I digress.

Truman was, as I stated, well-acted. Sinise showed Truman as a man of principle and decency. Diana Scarwid, who like Sinise was Emmy-nominated for her performance, was good as the supportive spouse. I cannot fault the performances of the cast. I can fault Truman for being so dry.

Truman was fine. It was well-liked enough to win the Outstanding Made for Television Movie Emmy (one of two wins out of eight overall nominations). Having seen three of its nominees, I think it was more the prestige subject than the overall quality that got Truman the Emmy. Truman is as I have said respectable but dry. I imagine that the real Harry S. Truman was the former but not the latter.

1884-1972

6/10

Mary Shelley: A Review (Review #2040)

MARY SHELLEY

Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus has haunted the imagination for over a century. The real story of its creator is more haunted and tragic. Mary Shelley is a respectable film with one good, strong central performance that makes up, barely, for its stodgy manner. 

Young Mary Godwin (Elle Fanning) has a fraught relationship with her stepmother, Mary Jane Clairmont (Joanne Froggatt). She is, however, fond of her stepsister Claire (Bel Powley). In a mix to both expand her education and bring relief to the household and struggling bookshop, her father William Godwin (Stephen Dillane) sends Mary to Scotland to stay with family friends. Here, Mary meets the dashing renegade poet Percy Bysshe Shelley (Douglas Booth). 

Claire hoodwinks her family into sendind for Mary and soon she returns full-time. She also reencounters Shelley, and a romance begins. Mary is initially unaware that Percy is still married and with a daughter, but soon their passion cannot be denied. Despite Mr. Godwin's own radical views, he is appalled at the liaison. He is more appalled when Mary and Percy run off together, accompanied by Claire. They live the high life until debt gets in the way. Mary has and then loses their child, in part to Percy's wicked ways. 

Claire, for her part, has an affair with more dashing and more renegade poet Lord Byron (Tom Sturridge). They go to his Geneva estate, where Lord Byron is somewhat pleased with their arrival. Mary is a haunted figure: haunted by the death of her mother after Mary's birth, by the loss of her own child, and by ideas of reviving the dead. In this dark and stormy season, Mary will pick up Lord Byron's challenge of all writing ghost stories to create her masterpiece, Frankenstein. Will she receive the recognition that her masterwork merits? Will her marriage to Percy, now free after his wife's suicide, bring happiness? Will her friendship with Byron's doctor frenemy John William Polidori (Ben Hardy) grow to something more?

If anything, Mary Shelley is elevated by Elle Fanning's performance. Affecting a convincing British accent, Fanning shows Mary to be this girl growing into a woman of renown and resolve. As the film goes on, Fanning reveals Mary's doubts, struggles, even shock at the man for whom she has sacrificed so much. At one point, one of Percy's friends suggested that they become involved. She rejets the suggestion, but then is shocked when Percy advocates that she should have taken up the offer. We see in Fanning how Mary is more than upset at Percy's manner. We see her sense of betrayal, that his love for her is not the way she loves him.

It is quite a good performance, and Elle Fanning should be commended for bringing Mary Shelley to life. She is not a bon vivant but also not a woman of sorrow. Instead, Fanning's Mary is a complicated figure.

I was also surprised to see that Douglas Booth was actually not bad as Percy Shelley. Booth is an exceptionally pretty figure. However, in the few projects that I have seen him in (a television adaption of Great Expectations and the horror of Jupiter Ascending), Booth has been a walking mannequin. Yes, he is very pretty, but also very blank, unable to communicate much in terms of emotion. Mary Shelley is probably the best that he has been when it comes to what I have seen of his filmography. Booth has a particularly good moment when he speaks surprisingly elegantly about his loveless marriage.

On the whole, I found the performances were all good to strong, a credit to director Haifaa Al-Mansour. Where Al-Mansour and screenwriter Emma Jensen go wrong is in making Mary Shelley a very stodgy affair. It is well-acted, but it is also very stately, a bit stiff at time. The actors, with all their good work, played the parts. That is, however, the problem. They played parts. They did not play people.

I liked Mary Shelley just enough to give it a mild recommendation. It could have been better. However, it is just good enough. Like her novel, I figure a biography is better than the film. 

1797-1851

DECISION: C+

Charlie Kirk: A Personal Reflection

1993-2025

These have been two hard weeks for me. I have had to replace all four tires one week, then replace the kitchen faucet the next week. The little that I have in savings is fast depleting. I had my-now former best friend ignore me for two weeks straight while we worked at the same location. Not a word, not a greeting, not an invite to lunch or breakfast, not a hello, not a goodbye. All these stressors caused me to miss part of my very high minimum payments, which I figure will increase. That, in turn, will increase my already heavy financial burden. I felt overwhelmed, distressed and depressed. I felt almost cruelly tested by God, forever attempting to show that I trusted Him by enduring harder and harder tests.

Then, the sight of a man, younger than myself, shot in the neck, blood gushing frenziedly, for holding an open-air debate, served as a terrible reminder that my troubles are in the long run, bearable. 

Charlie Kirk's assassination is monstrous. It is evil. It is damnable, and damn anyone who celebrates or condones his murder. Full stop. 

I saw the initial video, and it will shake me to my very core for however long I live. The details are in my mind: him putting the microphone down, the pop, the hole in his neck, the blood...dear God, the blood, the keeling over to the left. I cannot begin to imagine the total horror of his final moments. 

He expected yesterday to be a perhaps mocking back-and-forth between those who disagreed with his various views and himself. No one expects a particular day to be their last day, especially if you are as young as he was. I also figure that he was not expecting to be murdered before thousands for debating those who disagreed with him.

Everything about this horror distresses me: the crime itself, the celebratory nature among some who insist that "kindness matters", the ease to which violence is seen as justified because of disagreements. It is all so cruel, so evil, so terribly disheartening to me. However, I think of what Charlie Kirk was doing when someone shot him down. He was participating in something as old, if not older than, the Republic itself: asking and answering questions in a free and open exchange of ideas. 

Whether one agreed or disagreed with Charlie Kirk is unimportant. Whatever his views, he had the right to express and share them. He had the right to create an organization to promote those views (Turning Point USA). He had that First Amendment "right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances".

Charlie Kirk's assassination is counter to that vital right. We, as a nation and as a society, cannot tolerate, cannot accept, cannot endorse a culture where people can feel justified in killing those who hold different points of view.

Sadly, the warning signs that some believe a bullet should settle all debate have been there for many years. 

I go to the Congressional baseball team shooting in 2017, where someone attempted a mass assassination of Republican Congressmen because of their politics. 

I go to the idolization, at times literal, of Luigi Mangione after his arrest, charged with assassinating United Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson. Mangione was not condemned in certain circles for allegedly shooting a man in the back, murdering him in cold blood. He was, instead, feted and declared a "thirst trap". 

I go to the attempted assassination of then-former President Donald Trump in Butler, Pennsylvania. Had he not moved his head a few inches, we would have seen a former President and presidential candidate murdered before our eyes. Lest we forget, one man, Corey Comperatore, was murdered in the attempted assassination.

I go, now, today, to the slaughter of another man who was murdered for disagreeing with others and having people defend their views to him publicly in an open forum.

Each of these attempted or committed murders has a common denominator: the demonic belief that one can, perhaps should, kill those whose views you find more than objectionable. That oft-used phrase of "violence is not the answer" remains true. A free and open exchange of ideas cannot exist if any side decides that they have the power to execute whomever it disagrees with. That is terrorism. That is fascism. That is not what any American, on the Left or Right, can accept, support, endorse or celebrate.

Did I agree with Charlie Kirk? Did I find him and/or his views distasteful? I will not tell you, because my personal views about his political views do not shape my horror and anguish at his murder. I would feel the same if this had happened to Brian Tyler Cohen, a liberal commentator who is of Kirk's generation. I cannot find it in my heart or soul to think that killing your political opponents is right or moral on any level.

My heart breaks that anyone would think that such a thing would be right or moral on any level.

Politics is not my life. I vote on a regular basis. I have voted for Democrats and Republicans. I have my views, which are not uniform with one political party or another. I have criticized and ridiculed both sides. I have, at times, been appalled at some of what I hear from our political leaders and commentators. In all that, however, not once have I ever thought that those who disagreed with me should be exterminated. That anyone would think such a thing fills me, not with dread but with despair.

We cannot, we must not, kill those whose views are not like our own. No matter how odious you find those views, no matter how opposed you are to those views, committing murder does not make you heroic. It makes you satanic. Moreover, we cannot, we must not, justify or celebrate those who commit murder of political opponents. 

Charlie Kirk was murdered. We cannot celebrate murder. If we are not allowed to speak freely because someone believes that he or she has the right, if not duty, to kill us for openly holding a different viewpoint, we do not live in a free society but in a terror state. 

We never know if this day will be our last. We are today remembering that twenty-four years ago, so many were living their last day. Charlie Kirk did not know that yesterday, September 10, 2025, would be his last day of life. As I reflect on the horrors of yesterday, and remember the horrors of September 11, 2001, I remind myself to cherish those whom I love and that a late payment is not the end of the world. 

I close with this. Contrary to what some of my online compatriots say, I am not old enough to have been Charlie Kirk's father. True, I am much older than he was. As such, I have seen all sorts of terrible things. I never thought or imagined that I would live to see the political assassination of an activist, let alone an assassination that people dance to. It pains me beyond measure to see his birth and death date so close. I feel so much pain for his widow, his children, and his parents whom I presume are still alive. 

My deepest condolences to all of them.

Weapons (2025): A Review

WEAPONS

I went into Weapons thoroughly blank, with no knowledge of what it was about. It was just highly recommended by people that I know. I left Weapons pleased that it was a good film. It is not a great film. However, as things go, I think Weapons gives audiences what they ask.

Told through various chapters covering the chronicled events from various angles in nonchronological order, Weapons begins in voiceover from a child. The child reports that at Maybrook Elementary school, the entire third grade class of Miss Justine Gandy (Julia Garner) has disappeared. Well, all but one: Alex Lilly (Gary Christopher), who remains but who is silent. The mass disappearances of Miss Gandy's students in the middle of the night sends shockwaves throughout the community. 

Some of the parents, such as Archer Graff (Josh Brolin) insist that Justine has something to do with the disappearances, some of which were caught on camera. Justine, who is caring about her students but is also a bit of a tart and lush, continues pressing to speak to Alex. Her boss, Marcus Miller (Benedict Wong) keeps warning her against that. Eventually, she reconnects with Paul Morgan (Alden Ehrenreich), a cop and old flame. 

She not only pumps Paul for information but gets him to fall off the wagon. Paul has his own problems separate from his fraught relationship with Donna (June Diane Raphael), his wife or live-in girlfriend who is also the daughter of his boss. Paul also has to contend with two-bit criminal and junkie James (Austin Abrams). James may be high, but he also knows the shocking truth about what happened to the kids. This does not save him, however, from a brutal end. 

The shocking truth does not spare Marcus, who has become something of a zombie who tries to kill Justine in front of Archer. What is going on? What role if any does Alex's great-aunt Gladys (Amy Madigan) have in this sordid tale? There is witchcraft at work here, one that has netted innocents like Alex. Will parents and teachers find the missing kids? Who will make it out alive from this wickedness?

Weapons is divided into six chapters: Justine, Archer, Paul, James, Marcus and Alex. Each part gives us both bits of information about this case as well as filling in parts from other sections. For example, Justine ends with Marcus' shocking attack on her. We pick up in Marcus not only how this formerly pleasant and well-meaning man ended up a crazed zombified figure trying to murder Justine but how he came to do so while wearing a Mickey Mouse shirt. Marcus shows us that he had been enjoying a nice documentary with his life-partner Terry (Clayton Ferris) when Aunt Gladys unexpectedly came to them. Terry was wearing a Minnie Mouse shirt.

I did get a sense that Weapons was drawing a bit from Rashomon at least in giving us various viewpoints when it came to the overall story. I am not comparing Rashomon with Weapons or suggesting that the latter is on the same level as the former. I am merely saying that Weapons puts bits of other characters' stories until we get to that particular character's section. We get that there is or was a relationship between Justine and Paul in Justine. It is not until Paul that we get confirmation that he is both a recovering alcoholic and that he did schtup her as a result of falling off the wagon. How James came back into Paul's line of sight first seen in Paul gets revealed in James. It is an effective manner of telling the overall story, though it made it longer than I think it should have been.

Weapons gives viewers just enough to tease people about the mystery. Writer/director Zach Cregger kept things going well, building on one story to push the next one forward. I think Weapons works well because the performances never went overboard, even when some of the characters were essentially zombies. These moments were more shocking than silly. Granted, there was laughter from the audience at certain points. I can see why people laughed, but I did not think it was anything that would make me join in. 

I think that one element that makes Weapons work is that it takes the premise seriously enough without being morose or idiotic. That is a major credit given some of the scenes, such as a parent being a zombie apparently about to attack someone. Josh Brolin did well as Archer, the grieving father whose obsession in finding his bully son shifts his perspective from hostile towards Justine to becoming her ally. I am unfamiliar with Julia Garner, but I think she in her performance showed Justine to be flawed on a personal level but whose flaws did not extend to the classroom. I spent much of Weapons trying to figure out who Paul was, and it wasn't until the credits that I saw it was Alden Ehrenreich. The man who has at times struggled to escape his failed Solo effort does a good job as the troubled Paul. 

I think too much praise has been given to Amy Madigan as Aunt Gladys, the mysterious figure at the center of the wickedness. Yes, she is appropriately creepy as the shadowy force of evil. However, at times I did if not laugh at least smile at her efforts. More credit should be given to Cary Christopher as Alex, who was the innocent caught in Gladys' monstrous clutches. 

As a side note, I asked myself that the question people in town should have asked is not "Why did the children from Miss Gandy's class disappear?" but "Why was Alex the only one spared?". A lot of the case would have been solved if the police had pursued the second question rather than the first.

Weapons is an effective horror film, if a bit long. It works for what it is, even with the voiceover that begins and ends the film. In a weak year, Weapons is one of the better films that I have seen. 

DECISION: C+

The Naked Gun (2025): A Review

THE NAKED GUN

Leslie Nielsen was seen as a purely dramatic actor until he appeared in Airplane! where his deadpan manner made things funnier. The television series spoof Police Squad! and its film adaptation The Naked Gun cemented Nielsen's status as a comic actor to where I think people only saw him as that. I think that people soon could not see the forest for the trees when it came to Nielsen, opting to pigeonhole him to spoofs when he could have done more. With the revived The Naked Gun, it seems to try and want to do with Liam Neeson what the first Naked Gun did for Nielsen. More light chuckles than straight-out howlfest, The Naked Gun is mercifully short but not as funny as its predecessors.

Detective Frank Drebin, Jr. (Neeson) foils a bank robbery by disguising himself as a child. Unfortunately, his actions end up creating chaos and he is reassigned to a car accident where foul play is suspected. Alongside his partner, Ed Hocken, Jr. (Paul Walter Houser), Drebin seems fine to let the accident that killed software engineer Simon Davenport be reported as a suicide. Drebin does, however, find a matchbook that he finds curious. One person who won't accept that Simon's death was a suicide is his sister, Beth (Pamela Anderson). Beth, a crime novelist, suspects that it is murder. She suspects that Simon's death is connected to his employer, tech billionaire Richard Cane (Danny Huston). 

She is not far off, for Cane is involved. He is also involved in the bank robbery, where we find that a Plot Device was stolen. This Plot Device is part of Cane's nefarious scheme to go all Doctor Strangelove on the world. Frank Drebin, Jr. and Beth soon become thorns in Cane's side. Frank and Beth, who have fallen in love, now must join forces against both Cane and killer snowmen. Will they be able to stop Citizen Cane's wicked scheme? 

The Naked Gun runs 85 minutes long. I'm honestly surprised that it ran that long at all. It is more surprising to learn that the original also ran 85 minutes long. Perhaps another time I will compare the original with this sequel/reboot. For now, as I look at the 2025 Naked Gun, I find that it is...fine. 

The film, written by Dan Gregor, Doug Mand and director Akiva Schaffer, had some amusing bits and sight gags. One of The Naked Gun's greatest elements is in how it takes literal bits to make humorous moments and puns. The original had those in spades, where it threw endless gags and puns visual and verbal at you. Here though, they did not feel that funny. I thought the idea of opening the film with a literal PLOT Device was at least amusing. That "Primordial Law of Toughness" was the meaning of PLOT in "PLOT Device" felt as if it came from a more standard comedy. It might have done better if no one ever commented on what if anything "PLOT" meant. It would be just that: a literal "PLOT Device" and nothing more. 

Over and over, I thought that everyone involved with The Naked Gun was trying to be funny. I would even say that they were attempting to ratch up the humor a few notches. It just felt forced to me. When Frank Drebin, Jr. ends up framing himself, it could have been funny. Neeson gave it his all to try and make it so. For example, he finds a note telling him to pick up a tape recorder and say, "I did it" and he does exactly that. However, it played as if everyone knew that it was "funny", which in turn ended up making it not hilarious but labored.

Even for something as short as The Naked Gun, the scene with the killer snowman never felt funny even without its world. It looked like outtakes from Jack Frost. 

The thing about comedy, particularly something in the Naked Gun style, is that no one is supposed to play it as if they are aware that they are in a comedy. Some of the best comedies from Some Like It Hot to National Lampoon's Animal House to the original Naked Gun play their scenarios perfectly straight. I never got the sense that such was the case here. Instead, I got the sense that everyone knew that The Naked Gun was supposed to be a comedy. 

Again, there were funny moments. I thought, for example, that poor Ed Hocken, Jr. handing out free beers to everyone no questions asked, even a child, was amusing. There is a quick bit where he is sharing beer with children, which I did smile at. However, this bit had little buildup. It happened because someone thought it would be hilarious. It was, fine.

The same can be said for the performances. I think Liam Neeson took on this role because it would be a nice way to play against his own second persona as a tough action star. Once, Liam Neeson was seen as a serious dramatic actor, culminating with his Oscar-nominated turn in Schindler's List. Once he appeared in Taken, Neeson was transformed into an action star, where he has been for close to twenty years. I think Neeson as I said gave it his all to make Frank Drebin, Jr. into this bumbling moron. However, I never got the sense that Neeson could make himself into the bumbling moron his character needed to be. In a curious criticism, Liam Neeson seemed too smart to play dumb. 

The same can be said for both Pamela Anderson as our femme fatale and Danny Huston as our evil villain. I think that they tried. They worked to make themselves funny. The problem, again, is that everyone seemed to want to be smarter than the material. I did not laugh at Anderson's Beth attempting bad scatting at the nightclub. I never had any interest in Huston's Cane's plans for unleashing chaos.

As a side note, you couldn't have made one "Citizen Cane" quip or "Cane" related pun? 

I know that there are people who report to laughing nonstop at The Naked Gun. Yes, there were bits that were amusing. However, I was not falling down laughing. It was fine. It was barely passable. The Naked Gun is not up to the original's legacy. 

DECISION: C+

Misery: A Review

MISERY

Long before such things as "toxic fandom" and "stans" came to prominence, Misery touched on the possessive nature of fans. Well-acted, quietly intense, but for one expected moment Misery would be brilliant.

Paul Sheldon (James Caan) is the successful author of the Misery Chastain series of novels. The romance version of Sherlock Holmes has made him rich and famous, his editor Marcia Sindell (Lauren Bacall) reminds him. However, like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Paul has grown resentful towards Misery, feeling that it keeps him from better work. With that, his eighth and newest Misery novel Misery's Child will kill off his golden goose.

Paul has finished Misery's Child in the Colorado mountains where he always writes. Caught in a snowstorm when leaving, Paul has a major car crash. He awakens in the remote cabin of Annie Wilkes (Kathy Bates). Annie is not just a nurse but Sheldon's self-described "number one fan". The accident has disabled Paul to such a point that he cannot be safely moved. Moreover, the snowstorm has left the Wilkes farm isolated from the nearby community. 

Annie seems nice if a bit mercurial and excessively attached to the character of Misery. When she reads Misery's Child with Paul's blessings, Paul is terrified by her reaction. Annie is violently enraged that Misery has been killed off. She will not stand for this murder. After ordering a weak Paul to destroy his newest unpublished work based on his early years, Annie now demands that Misery be revived. This begins a battle of wits and wills between Annie and Paul. 

Paul's disappearance has alarmed Miss Sindell, who contacts the local sheriff. That sheriff, Buster (Richard Farnsworth), believes that Paul may be dead. As he begins investigating alongside his wife Virginia (Frances Sternhagen), he soon starts thinking that Paul is alive but still in danger. He also begins to delve into the Misery world, coming upon a quote from one of the novels that triggers a memory. That memory leads him to wonder if Annie Wilkes, in her isolated farm, has something to do with Paul's disappearance, as her past as a murderess comes to light. Who will live and who will die by Misery's hand?

I do not know that today, people appreciate just how popular Misery was when it was released. The expression "I'm your Number One fan" became something of a catchphrase, albeit one that signaled that the speaker was bonkers. I think that, with hindsight of thirty-five years, Misery was far ahead of its time. Misery captures the possessive manner of fans, in this case of a literary series. Today, we see many fans of works as varied as the vampire Twilight books to the long-established Star Wars franchise be at times enraged by something that the original creators do. How much of a stretch is it from an Annie Wilkes getting hung up on minutia of Sheldon's Misery universe to say Doctor Who fans who can point out inconsistencies and contradictions. Misery is a dark portrayal of deranged fandom taken to the ultimate extreme. In that, I am surprised that William Goldman's adaptation of Stephen King's novel has not been given more credit for being prescient about how unhinged some devotees can be when it comes to the object of their fandom.

Misery is exceptionally well-acted. Kathy Bates created a villainess for the ages. Bates balances an almost sweet and disarming manner to someone who is beyond dangerous. She can switch on a dime from gleeful at recounting her enthusiasm about Misery's Return (the novel Annie forced Paul to write) to psychotic about Paul making the most innocuous statements. In between the rages and the notorious foot-maiming scene, Bates also allows bits of genuine vulnerability, even sadness. Bates' performance is so strong that through it, with Goldman's script, we get a moment of levity at Annie's expense. As she criticizes Paul for trying to cheat the audience, Annie tells him that he has to change everything except naming the gravedigger after her. That, she tells him in a staccato manner, he can keep. She is oblivious to how naming the gravedigger after her is not a compliment. 

Bates' scene where she recounts her rage at a movie serial getting a detail wrong has become legendary, at times mocked. It also, thanks to Goldman's adaption, reveals a quirk in Annie's nature. As she screams about the "cock-a-doodie car", we see someone who will not swear. A major point in Annie is her refusal to use even the mildest of vulgarities. That, however, sets up a rarely commented moment in Annie and Paul's final confrontation, when she calls him a "lying c**ksucker". 

Kathy Bates may have been the one to walk off with an Oscar for Misery, but there was not a bad performance in the film. It is a surprise that James Caan did not receive a nomination as well. His performance as Paul Sheldon was nowhere near as flashy as that of Bates. However, he was still effective as the tormented, at times arrogant Paul. I personally thought that it would have been better for the character to play along with Annie versus being as combative as he was. That being said, Caan is an excellent dance partner to Bates' unhinged intensity.

The supporting performances of Richard Farnsworth and Frances Sternhagen as Buster and Virginia are the closest Misery has to "comic relief". Do not misunderstand my meaning; they were not comic characters or performances. Farnsworth, in his quiet manner, was dedicated and intelligent, following the investigation in a methodical manner to its shocking conclusion. However, he and Sternhagen brought a little bit of impish charm to this married couple that could playfully play off each other. Their scenes were nice, even funny, where we saw Buster and Virginia jokingly insult the other. They brought lightness and a sense of calm to the at times wild goings-on in the film. 

None wilder than the aforementioned foot-maiming scene. Director Rob Reiner was actually restrained in this grisly scene. Just as many people remember the Psycho shower scene as being more graphic than it actually is, the foot-maiming is not as graphic as I had remembered it. Contrary to memories, we see on-screen only one ankle twisted. The rest of the scene merely suggests the other ankle met a similarly gruesome fate. It is through Reiner's direction of the scene and his actors, along with Bates and Caan's performances, that makes that scene more intense that what is actually on screen.

In every element I think Misery excels except for when we get Annie coming back for a second smackdown. I had hoped against hope that we would not see her make a jump-scare, but I suppose that is what audiences either wanted or expected. I knocked down a point for that. 

Minus that, Misery still holds up extremely well as a suspense thriller. 

DECISION: B+

The Phoenician Scheme: A Review (Review #2036)

THE PHOENICIAN SCHEME

By now, even the most casual filmgoer knows what he or she will be getting when they go to a Wes Anderson film. Enchanting to some, maddening to others, Anderson will never deviate from his twee aesthetic. Now, we get his newest film, The Phoenician Scheme. We see some old faces, some new faces, and the same droll manner that this time left me terribly, terribly cold.

Billionaire industrialist Anatole "Zsa-Zsa" Korda (Benicio del Toro) has survived yet another plane crash/assassination attempt. Hovering between life and death, Zsa-Zsa has visions of Heaven, but the divine court is unsure of whether or not he will enter Paradise.

Deciding to get things in order before his end (whenever that should be) Zsa-Zsa contacts his estranged daughter, Liesl (Mia Threapleton). Liesl is a Catholic novitiate who wants nothing to do with Zsa-Zsa. This frosty relationship is due in part to the suspicion that Zsa-Zsa murdered Liesl's mother in a jealous rage. Zsa-Zsa insists that he did no such thing. As The Phoenician Scheme goes on, we find that he technically did not pull the trigger but set the scene.

Liesl, somewhat reluctantly, goes with Zsa-Zsa as he sets off the Phoenician Scheme. He will get other people to fund his latest project involving a nuclear power plant and/or a dam. Zsa-Zsa is thoroughly unscrupulous in his business deals. Liesl watches as does Bjorn Lund (Michael Cera), Zsa-Zsa's secretary and entomologist. He cons two California businessmen (Tom Hanks and Bryan Cranston) despite his poor basketball skills. Phoenician Prince Farouk (Riz Ahmed) is to be fair, worse at basketball, having no concept of the game. He blackmails Marseilles Bob (Mathieu Amalric) but does save his life (albeit accidentally) from revolutionaries led by Sergio (Richard Ayoade). Finally, he threatens the life of his frenemy Marty (Jeffrey Wright) but does get him to pitch in.

Still, Zsa-Zsa is still half short of his financial goals. Could his cousin Hilda (Scarlett Johansson) be able to help? Will she agree to marry Zsa-Zsa anyway? What of Zsa-Zsa's half-brother Nubar (Benedict Cumberbatch)? Nubar is an investor in the Phoenician Scheme. He is a fierce rival to Zsa-Zsa. He may also be Liesl's biological father and her mother's murderer. Will the scheme ultimately work? Will Zsa-Zsa be able to buy his way to Heaven? Is there a potential traitor within Zsa-Zsa's inner circle?

I'm reluctant to use the expression, "You've seen one, you've seen them all" when it comes to Wes Anderson's oeuvre. This is especially true since there have been Wes Anderson films that I have genuinely liked, such as Moonrise Kingdom and The Grand Budapest Hotel. Terms like "quirky" and "twee" are often used to describe Anderson's cinematic style. Some people love this style. I barely accepted Asteroid City and disliked his short film The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, which finally made him an Oscar winner. 

The Phoenician Scheme was not to my liking. Granted, you had lots of heady themes here: life, the afterlife, the good or evil that you do in the world following you to the next. However, I think that Anderson's deadpan manner, where everyone and everything is staccato, failed to make me care.

Some actors genuinely struggled with this manner. Of particular note is Anderson's fellow Oscar winner Riz Ahmed (who also won for his short film, the atrocious The Long Goodbye). He, in a curious criticism, seemed too animated for all of this. Ahmed could not make himself fit into Anderson's droll, deadpan manner. Tom Hanks and Bryan Cranston could. Even Michael Cera could. Ahmed, conversely, looked genuinely lost trying to be emotionless. 

I also thought little of Benedict Cumberbatch as Nubar. Looking like Rasputin's crazier cousin, he continues to show that his acting is solely based on his rich and luxurious baritone. Unlike Ahmed, he did not struggle with Anderson's insistence on having the characters look almost comatose in their line delivery. Like Ahmed, he never convinced me that he believed these were even fictional people.

This was not a problem for Mia Threapleton. She got into the act quite well, able to keep up with the Andersonian dryness. At times, I thought Threapleton veered close to a parody of Andersonian dryness. However, by this time Anderson is so standard that I think it would be hard to parody something that already plays as parody.

Benicio del Toro was certainly in on the joke as Zsa-Zsa. I think he did well in The Phoenician Scheme. His character was amoral but who slowly, very slowly, started wondering if it was right. Seeing bits of Heaven and even a chat with God (Bill Murray) might do that with people. 

As a side note, I admit to chuckling when one of the federal government agents referred to the mole inside Zsa-Zsa's inner circle as "the bureaucrat from Baltimore". 

The Phoenician Scheme does have typically strong aesthetics in its costuming and set decoration. If one thing can be counted on with Wes Anderson, it is that his films will always look quirky, whimsical and yes, twee. 

That, however, seems to be an investment of diminishing returns. Aesthetics and style can go only so far. The Phoenician Scheme is a film I barely remember watching. I do not know if that is a good thing or not.

DECISION: D+