"Alien" Nation: Hollywood's Ickiest Franchise has Always Been an Incubator for Filmmaking Talent

In space, no can hear your scream at your A.D.

No film franchise has had a more accomplished class of filmmakers explode from its womb than the ALIEN-iad. Extraterrestrial, extraterrestrial, read all about it in the Paper of Record.

Summer of '82: "The Future Was Now," reviewed.

Walter Koenig and Paul Winfield on the set of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, part of the genre Class of ‘82.

If you’re a certain kind of cinephile, you probably know a few things with the rote force of scripture: That Conan — the barbarian, not the talk show host — philosophized about what is best in life. That E.T. phoned home. That Spock sacrificed himself to save the crew of the starship Enterprise. That patricidal “replicant” Roy Batty, in the final moments of his own brief life, eulogized his vanishing memories as “tears in rain.”

My Washington Post review of Chris Nashawaty’s The Future Was Now: Madmen, Mavericks, and the Epic Sci-Fi Summer of 1982 is here.

A Cosmic Odyssey in a Honda Odyssey: "Deadpool & Wolverine," reviewed.

Ryan Reynolds, probably, and Hugh Jackman, almost certainly, as/in Deadpool & Wolverine. (Disney)

“You might not care about the canary-colored onesie. You might not be swayed by the fact the film’s multiversal milieu empowers Reynolds, director and cowriter Shawn Levy, and their collaborators not only to resurrect long-dormant Marvel heroes like [REDACTED], but to corral stars whose long-rumored superhero turns never happened such as [REDACTED], and even coax a walk-on from [REDACTED] who in a surprise twist, plays [REDACTED] instead of [REDACTED]. If you care about precisely none of that, you might still find this thing a worthy diversion, just for the light-speed potty-mouthed quips. Surely no film from within the Disney megalith has ever given us so many euphemisms for masturbation—or so many jokes about Honda Odyssey minivans.

“Me? I’m just here for Jackman.”

My incredibly consequential Washington City Paper review of Deadpool & Wolverine is here.

Kate Versus the Tornadoes: "Twisters," reviewed.

Daisy Edgar-Jones snd Glen Powell are just a couple of crazy, stormchasin’ kids in Twisters. (Universal)

Twisters feels like the accretion of several alarming trends: the acceleration of the climate emergency; the rapidity with which indie auteurs get sucked up into franchise world (Minari writer-director Lee Isaac Chung, in this instance); and the coronation of Glen Powell.

Okay, that last one isn’t so bad.

My Washington City Paper Twisters review is here. And my 2017 NPR remembrance of Twister star Bill Paxton, may he rest in peace, is here.

"Fly Me to the Moon" and the Persistence of Lunar Lunacy

Scarlett Johansson and Channing Tatum meet cute en route to the Moon.

Fly Me to the Moon is an ahistorical comedy about the selling (and near selling-out) of the Apollo program. I spoke to my National Air and Space Museum curator friend Margaret A. Weitekamp about it, and to NASA Chief Historian Brian Odom, for this Smithsonian piece about why some people just won’t accept that America went to the Moon.

Pop Culture Happy Hour: "A Quiet Place: Day One"

Lupita Nyong'o is trying to die on her own terms in Michael Sarnoski’s A Quiet Place prequel.

Shhhh! I’m on PCHH today dissecting PIG auteur Michael Sarnoski’s A Quiet Place: Day One with Aisha Harris and Kirsten Meinzer. Aisha mentioned Thomasina, with no prompting from me, so you can also go find our A Degree Absolute! episode on that 60s Disney curiosity here.

Two-Lane Blacktop: "The Bikeriders," reviewed.

Tom Hardy and Austin Butler as a couple of Vandals. (Kyle Kaplan/Focus Features)

“Comer’s Chicagoland accent is dead-solid perfect. Hardy, as is his wont, has affected a vocal timbre native to no place on this planet; Butler is still playing Elvis.”

My Washington City Paper review of Jeff Nichols’ great-looking-if-somewhat-underfed latest, The Bikeriders, is here.

Burning Chrome: "Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga," reviewed.

Drive-By Truckers: Tom Burke and Anya Taylor-Joy in Furiosa. (Warner Bros. / Jasin Boland)

Picaresque in form and Biblical in its savagery, Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is the first entry in the five-film Max-iad that unfolds over years instead of days. A revenge flick about the futility of revenge, it sticks the landing, and then binds itself too tightly to that movie we all loved 9 (!) years ago in its closing moments. But it’s still a marvel.

My full Washington City Paper review is here.