Film Review - Brightburn (15)

I wanna do good, mom. I do.

Some films are best experienced cold. The less you know about Brightburn going in, the more impactful it's likely to be. (I had the misfortune to catch the trailer, a wretched affair that preempts the best surprises this original story has to offer - read my thoughts on that same topic here.) So if you're planning on watching this movie, go see it and then read on afterwards. Seriously, don't mention it. It's all part of the service.

Okay, to business. Brightburn, from its earliest scenes, has a strong familiarity - one that rapidly becomes discomfiting. Tori and Kyle Breyer (Elizabeth Banks and David Denman) are a Kansas couple unsuccessfully striving to become parents. The universe appears to answer their prayers in the form of an alien spacecraft that crashes onto their farm with a baby inside. For a decade they raise him as their own, to all appearances a healthy human child, albeit one immune to physical injury. Then with his twelfth birthday imminent, young Brandon Breyer undergoes an awakening - of superhuman abilities, but also of a nature very different from the loving boy he's thus far appeared to be. Brandon is connecting with whatever technology brought him to Earth, and the rural town of Brightburn needs to brace itself for the consequences.

It's a neat central pitch: 'Superman' arrives on Earth, but not as a force for good. The structure of the movie - particularly in its early stages - is all Smallville, but overlaid with multiple horror movie tropes. Director David Yarovesky has limited feature experience, but his understanding of the genre is assured; there's an effective build-up of menace as the traditional superhero version of this story is methodically subverted. The camera pans about the farm creepily and the barn interior glows demonic-red, while the score thrums like a portent of very bad things to come. This might all be lifted straight from the scary-playbook, but it's executed efficiently with a few grisly shocks along the way and some visually creative moments linked to Brandon's developing abilities.

 

As Brandon's too-trusting mom, Elizabeth Banks steers away from the comedy that has become her stock-in-trade. She delivers a convincingly emotional turn, retaining our sympathies even when she refuse to believe the staringly obvious truth. David Denman is a likeable blue-collar papa bear as the dad, while Jackson A. Dunn perfects a chilling deadpan as the increasingly sociopathic super-boy. Any nature-versus-nurture debate is dispatched quickly - perhaps too quickly for the story's own good. The pre-teen's narcissism becomes all-consuming once his extra-terrestrial puberty kicks in, making the movie as reminiscent of The Omen as it is of Superman. (These parents really need to talk about Brandon.)

Where the film falls down is a screenplay by Brian and Mark Gunn that never rises above the predictable. (Their brother James, of Guardians of the Galaxy fame, produced the movie, suggesting immense family faith in the project.) The pace and the visuals hold attention, but the dialogue is unfortunately mundane, failing to capitalize on the movie's super-gone-wrong premise and its potential for wicked fun. Character choices and behaviour are ill-explained throughout, the actors salvaging what they can, while at least one major plot thread is left straggling. And don't ask to know why Brandon is breaking bad. We're really not digging that deep.

Shortage of ideas isn't the issue here. Brightburn has enough going on to remain engaging throughout, plus it benefits from a compelling final act that saves up its punches and delivers them in a knockout salvo. Sadly it doesn't have the words to back up its deliciously dark concept. A thorough redraft with proper attention to character would have helped. Then this film might have reached a whole other level of Superbad.

Gut Reaction: A bit of creeping dread, a few jumps and a couple of flinches. And that ending brought a certain grim satisfaction.

Memorable Moment: Mom discovers Brandon's talent for art.

Ed's Verdict: 6/10. An undeniably entertaining piece of genre-splicing, this could have been an 8 or higher, if the script had matched everything else.

Film Review - Toy Story 4 (U)

You can't teach this old toy new tricks.

Was anyone delighted when Toy Story 4 was announced, or were we all thinking that Pixar should have left well alone? They had created that rarity after all, an immaculately crafted trilogy of stories, one in which each successive entry builds imaginatively on what's gone before. It all resolved in such a satisfying fashion too, with Andy's toys surviving near-incineration and receiving a new lease of life with Bonnie the little girl next door. 4 didn't even feature on my 'Most Anticipated' list for 2019, because frankly the thought of it made my heart sink. Don't risk your legacy for a cash grab, was my instinctive response. And should Pixar have taken that rubbish advice, we'd have missed out on a truly magical fourth episode.

The loose ends may have been tied up regarding Andy's toys as a whole, but for Sheriff Woody it's a different story. Accustomed to his role as team organiser, he finds himself relegated in Bonnie's girlish affections and in the play-room pecking order. He finds a new sense of purpose when the youngster creates a toy from a plastic spork and other assorted trash on her kindergarten orientation day. The newly conscious 'Forky' is a walking existential crisis, ready to consign himself to the bin. Woody, however, makes it his mission to integrate the confused fellow into the group, while persuading him of his importance as Bonnie's new favourite toy. But then a family road trip pitches Woody back into frantic adventure, confronting him with some tough existential questions of his own.

See that's the kind of depth that marks out the Toy Story franchise, never mind its visual quality. By now the series' cutting-edge technical aspects are a given. As the first feature to be entirely computer-animated, 1995's original was ground-breaking, and each successive entry has served as a new benchmark for industry quality. 4 is no exception, consistently pushing back the frontiers of photo-realistic animation. Whether it's the rush of water in a storm drain, the reflective surfaces of a crammed antiques store or the luminescence of a night-time funfair, you only have to stare at those detailed vistas to be entertained. And that's saying nothing about the wealth of high-octane, toy-related action on display, all of it ingeniously captured by first-time feature director Josh Cooley.

But it's the deep-seated sense of humanity that has always given this series its resonance. Previous Toy Story movies have dealt with loyalty, friendship and family, before going for broke and getting stuck into universal fears of abandonment, obsolescence and mortality. (If you think I'm over-egging things here, go re-watch the first three and feel the grown-up chills.) 4 goes full-on philosophical through Forky's struggles with meaning and self-worth, before considering via Woody how we're sometimes forced to redefine our whole existence. What's this film all about then? Nothing short of the entire human condition.

And if that makes it sound too earnest and serious, trust me it's not. Toy Story 4 is a blast from start to finish - both thrilling and wonderfully funny. The old guard raise plenty of smiles (Tom Hanks' voice-work as Woody is always a delight and Buzz's role includes one great recurring gag), but it's the newcomers who deliver the most hilarity. Tony Hale (Arrested Development, Veep) brings naive charm and pathos to Forky, while one-time TV double-act Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele enjoy a triumphant reunion as not-so-street-smart plush-toys Ducky and Bunny. And if you think Keanu Reeves is impressive as John Wick, wait till you hear him as Canada's greatest stuntman, motor-cycling daredevil - with a surprisingly fragile heart - Duke Caboom. 

Throw in one very unusual antagonist with potentially child-terrifying henchmen and the empowered return of someone we haven't seen since 2 (and didn't realise we'd missed so much), and Toy Story 4 jostles with so many great characters, it's a wonder it can contain them all. Inevitably some favourites take a background role, but it's all in the name of balancing the nostalgia factor with fresh ideas. Other sequel-makers should be so wise.

Basically this film has all the technical prowess you'd expect, along with the brain, the heart and the humour you might have feared would be lacking. So if like me you considered 3 an ideal wrap and that anything more would be an unnecessary franchise-flogging, prepare to be proved wrong - and in the most glorious way. There was one more Toy Story to be told, and those clever people at Pixar had the wisdom to see it. 

Now lay it to rest, guys, and be proud. Your work here is most definitely done.

Gut Reaction: Warmth, reassurance, laughter - and tearing up for one complex bunch of reasons.

Memorable Moment: Woody's reunion with an old friend - so perfectly judged it took my breath.

Ed's Verdict: 9.5/10. Superbly executed on every level, Toy Story 4 consigns your cynicism to the trash and lands you squarely back in the toy-box. An undiluted source of joy.

Film Review - Men in Black International (12A)

Come on - the world's not going to save itself.

I

I remember my reaction some months back on seeing a poster for Men in Black: International at my local Odeon cinema. Really? Eh... Why? 1997's Men in Black original was fresh and funny, but bore sequels that doubled down on jokes, while doing little to expand the universe it had created. Hardly a franchise ripe for revisiting. I went into the screening with expectations on a level with those for last week's Dark Phoenix... and once again came out a shade more entertained than I'd expected. June 2019 is proving the month of the 'adequate'.

Tessa Thompson (Creed, Creed II) plays Molly, who as a little girl witnessed an extra-terrestrial creature being pursued by Men in Black agents, but escaped having her memory wiped in that MiB 'look at the flashing light on my neuralyzer' fashion. She has spent over a decade searching for the mysterious agency that regulates alien activity on Earth, finally tracking down their US headquarters. Here she pitches herself to high-ranking Agent O (Emma Thompson even more dramatically coiffed than in Late Night) as perfect recruitment material. Swiftly Molly is abbreviated to M, dispatched to London and teamed up with Chris Hemsworth's Agent H, an MiB playboy-hero credited with the defeat of a parasitical alien race called the Hive. As our new heroes bicker and spar their way to friendship, however, it becomes apparent that the Hive might not be as vanquished as originally believed.

Word from Hollywood's overactive rumour-mill is of a troubled Men in Black: International production, where the 'edgier' original script that enticed the two main stars (and which supposedly tackled the issue of immigration in a 'timely' way) was reshaped into something more generic against the director's and actors' wishes. Certainly the end result feels less than inspired. This is a film that's quite engaging, quite exciting, quite funny. To say that it lacks the spark of originality that made the original such a memorable ride... Well, quite. There's much that's recognisable here, too much really - the tech, the obligatory McGuffin that everyone is chasing, the goofy array of ETs, with not enough to push the limits of the MiB cosmos or even to subvert our earthly expectations a little.

Lacklustre story regardless, there are aspects here to enjoy. (Glass half-full is the way of Filmic Forays after all.) Chief among these is the rapport between Thompson and Hemsworth, a chemistry already proven in Thor: Ragnarok. They simply ease into their characters, finding a different but equally relaxed rhythm to the one they had as Thor and Valkyrie and quickly becoming the movie's comic lifeblood. Add The Big Sick's Kumail Nanjiani voicing their third wheel, a sentient chess piece referred to as Pawny, and you have a likeable central dynamic throughout.

Rafe Spall adds needle as H's obnoxious work colleague (not for nothing is he named Agent C), while Emma Thompson adds her customary class in what few scenes she's in. And it's interesting to watch Liam Neeson as UK's MiB boss, the pun-tastically named High T, if only to ponder how well he can salvage his career following that high-profile PR disaster he inflicted on himself back in March. There's fun to be had with new locations too: London makes a fine backdrop for the agents' investigations, while there's a nice visual contrast in the street markets of Marrakesh and some jaunty escapades on a Mediterranean island. 

In short there's enough to keep things ticking over entertainment-wise, but not the ideas nor the conviction to set them alight. It's a waste, because the central team establish a great connection, one that might have been explored sometime again. (While the movie doesn't embarrass itself by trumpeting an intended sequel, it's obvious that Agents M & H have been set up for further adventures.) Ultimately, though, the question to be asked of any sequel is the one that occurred to me on catching sight of that poster. Why? Sadly, despite its plus-points, Men in Black: International simply can't muster a really good answer. 

Gut Reaction: Prepared to be bored, but reasonably amused and engaged instead.

Memorable Moment: Pawny to the rescue.

Ed's Verdict: 6.5/10. Solidly made and nicely played, this MiB reboot needs some bold new conceit to justify its existence. As a Friday night out it's enjoyable. Quite, not very.

Film Review - Dark Phoenix (12A)

You are NOT broken.

There's discussion in this latest X-Men film as to whether Jean Gray, the 'Dark Phoenix' of the title, is indeed 'broken', or simply different like all the story's mutant heroes. Many X-fans are claiming with some justification, however, that the entire franchise was broken some time ago, due to the manner in which Days of Future Past's time-travel element wrecked its entire continuity. Add to that the fact that Dark Phoenix has a second stab at a plot-line first attempted in 2006's X-Men: The Last Stand and you've got a lot of negative press surrounding what will be the final movie in the saga. Setting all that aside though, and taking the new movie purely on its own merits, and dampening down any misplaced expectations of greatness - well, it's not a bad night out at the flicks.

It kicks off with a elementary school-age Jean Gray tapping into her latent telekinetic abilities in deeply traumatising circumstances. A mutant with formidable powers she is taken in by the young Professor Xavier to live and be educated in his 'School for Gifted Youngsters'. A decade or so later she's a fully fledged 'X-Man' (played once already by Sophie Turner in X-Men: Apocalypse), but - it turns out - lacking a full understanding of the dubious circumstances in which she entered the School. One space-mission-gone-wrong later she's invested/cursed with a mysterious cosmic power that intensifies her already extraordinary gifts, transforming her into a potentially devastating force. That's especially since a rift is developing between her and the adoptive mentor. Call it X-tension, if you like.

With all the critical negativity washing about, my experience of watching Dark Phoenix was basically waiting for it to get as bad as people were saying. Thing is, it never actually did - not to a Godzilla: King of the Monsters level of direness or anywhere close. The opening was arresting, startlingly so, and the tricky dynamic between Jean and Prof X was neatly established in the opening act. The latter (James McAvoy doing his best 'young Patrick Stewart') showed an unexpected layer of hubris that added to the role's complexity, while Turner's emotionally tortured turn as the eponymous Phoenix was terrific, like she was truly blossoming post-Sansa Stark/Game of Thrones. 

There were committed return performances from Nicholas Hoult (having a good year with The Favourite and Tolkien) and regular class-act Michael Fassbinder, even if neither was given a fully-fledged story arc. And franchise newcomer Jessica Chastain was in imperious form as cosmic entity - eh - Vuk. Add to that an effective build-up to a mid-point confrontation that landed considerable dramatic punch, some emotional character moments and a typically compelling score from Hans Zimmer and you've got a movie that's not so disastrous as some would have you believe.

But neither is it top-tier X-Men, or anywhere near the level of the franchise's best outings. The starry cast is working with sadly predictable dialogue (literally so - I kept successfully predicting how lines would end), and any intriguing character arcs established early on are more of less derailed in favour of a huge multi-character punch-up in the final act. (The rank and file X-Men get very little to do other than flex their powers now and then.) It's technically solid throughout, if a bit choppy in the way the bigger fight scenes are edited, but dramatically it fizzles out in a conclusion that wastes a whole lot of story potential. Hey, maybe we're all just spoiled following the satisfyingly complex storytelling in Avengers: Endgame.

Speaking of which, it's not insignificant that the rights for X-Men have reverted to Marvel, having been held for over twenty-five years by 20th Century Fox. That's a heartening thought for all fans of Professor X, Magneto and co, that sometime down the line the MCU may bring its consistently well-crafted storytelling to these beloved characters. Then we'd have something a bit less hit-and-miss - a franchise in which the films would all tie together, and where any given title would be more X-2 than Last Stand. In that kind of universe Dark Phoenix would be essential viewing, not merely-adequate screen filler.

Gut Reaction: Entertained for much of the running-time, with a few electric jolts along the way. Then it all went a bit 'meh'. 

Memorable Moment: Little Jean discovers her powers - the hard way.

Ed's Verdict: 6/10. Dark Phoenix has enough fine performances, powerful moments and intriguing character traits to provide that final vague sense - of missed opportunity.

Film Review - Late Night (15)

You're a little old, and a little white.

Mindy Kaling is a legitimate TV phenomenon - regular on the US version of The Office, creator and star of The Mindy Project and currently finishing off work on an American small-screen adaptation of Four Weddings and a Funeral. With a scattering of screen credits too (Inside Out, Ocean's 8), you can't fault the woman's work ethic, or her ambition. And the fact that she easily persuaded Emma Thompson to co-star with her in her new film, for which she penned the screenplay, demonstrates her current industry clout. Result - the third grown-up film comedy this year (see Long Shot and Booksmart) that I've really liked. You go, girl.

Kaling's attitude is not dissimilar to that of Molly Patel, the sweetly determined heroine she plays in Late Night. A lowly chemical plant worker, Molly applies to write for Katherine Newbury (Thompson), award-winning host of a Carson/Letterman-style talk show, citing a love of TV comedy as her key qualification. Her arrival coincides with a crisis for the acid-tongued host - declining ratings and the accusation that her writing team is exclusively white and male. With the time and place so conspicuously right Molly finds herself hired, but is initially an unwelcome presence in the writers' room and an unintentional thorn in her pressurised boss's side. It's going to take a lot to prove herself as more than a 'diversity hire', and just as much to save Katherine's job as the show's front-woman.

 

These are both well-tried storylines - the out-of-her-depth novice trying to prove herself and the veteran under threat from younger (and in this case male-er competition). What gives this narrative added oomph is how rooted it is in contemporary television culture and the issues of the day. This tackles #metoo, ageism and diversity, but with sufficient lightness of touch and ironic self-awareness that it never feels too worthy. It's astute and witty writing at all points - in touch with 2019's popular culture, but equally aware of US television's past. Directed with the requisite zip and sparkle by Nisha Ganatra (another woman with a firm grounding in TV comedy), it also lingers on moments of genuine pathos without letting them turn mawkish.

The role of Katherine was written with Thompson in mind and it plays to her strengths, both comic and dramatic. Power-dressed with her bleach-blonde hair coiffed to brittle perfection, the show anchor is a terror - a woman who's fought too long in a man's world, turning harder-edged than any of the guys. She has a blood-freezing incredulity for anyone who fails her standards, and yet a humanising warmth exists somewhere at her core. Kaling serves as an able counterpoint, undergirding Molly's wide-eyed sincerity with enough intelligence and grit to make the relationship convincing. The writers' room boys are a convincing ensemble and great foils for both the female leads; they're spiky and disgruntled for sure, but human too and neatly differentiated. And John Lithgow adds extra dimension to Thompson as the husband she adores.

If there's one area where this movie can't quite find its authenticity, it's the portrayal of stand-up comedy. But then it's not the only film to stumble at that point. The Big Sick - a film I love and which frequently made me laugh - felt oddly stilted in those on-stage moments. The spontaneity of the comedy club is just damned tricky to reproduce artificially. Elsewhere these characters are believable and consistently amusing - I just want to believe they can do what they're supposedly best at.

That quibble aside, Kaling does a fine job at capturing a whole working world and its current state of flux. Her smarts and industry experience are on full display and her dream casting delivers all she must have hoped. Keep an eye on this career. If Late Night is anything by which to judge, it's only going to get bigger and brighter.

Gut Reaction: A few guffaws and a lot of smiles, plus some personal moments of sadness. 

Memorable Moment: Molly's dreams take a trashing. 

Ed's Verdict: 7.5/10. Well-crafted character comedy with enough drama to give it proper weight. The Kaling/Thompson paring works a treat.

Film Review - Aladdin (PG)

You ain't never had a friend like me.

Here it is - the second in Disney's 2019 trio of live-action remakes. March release Dumbo had that sense of Tim Burton world-building to it, plus a completely original second act, to mark it out from the source material. Doubt was cast, however, on the wisdom of a whole new Aladdin and whether it could establish its own credentials with the help of a dyed-blue Will Smith. So does it succeed in doing so? I'd say... yes. Just, but yes.

Some story-tweaking aside, this is pretty much Arabian business as usual, Smith himself narrating the tale (albeit as a far-travelled mariner rather than the pedlar from the 1992 version). Aladdin is the same orphaned street-thief in the city of Agrabah, outrunning both starvation and arrest and singing jauntily about it as he goes. But a series of unexpected encounters change his life forever. He meets and falls in love with the Sultan's daughter Jasmine, who's out and about incognito, so she can rub shoulders with the common people. Then he's forced on pain of death by scheming vizier Jafar to seek out a mythical treasure. And on discovering said artefact - the famed magical lamp - he ends up with a very powerful friend at his command, one capable of helping him woo the woman so far out of his league. See? All the familiar elements are in place.

As with all Disney's retreads, the biggest hurdle is comparison with the original - more so here, in the light of Robin Williams' Genie and the groundbreaking animation that sprouted from his manically iconic voice performance. The moments when the new film comes closest to faltering is when it pays CGI tribute to those former glories. It's all visually clever stuff, but simply can't live up to our memories of 1992's crazily abstract interpretation. Good job then that the film goes the way it does - switching the Genie into more human form. Smith's amiability is allowed to shine in its own right, while his rapport with Aladdin (Mena Massoud) takes on a more grounded quality. There are neatly played comic interactions along with some fun hip-hop stylings during the musical numbers, creating a buddy-buddy connection between the two characters.

Massoud himself makes for a likeable Aladdin (he sings passably if not magnificently well), while Marwan Kenzari's Jafar is stone-cold as opposed to the cackling pantomime villain of before. The cast's stand-out, however, is the UK's Naomi Scott as Princess Jasmine, whose bolstered role is one of the movie's strongest assets. As much concerned with being a political force for good as escaping the confines of the palace, she's a young woman finding her voice - not least when powering out 'Speechless', the original song written by Alan Menken for this adaptation. Embracing all facets of her role, Scott turns in one belter of a performance, boosted by one-time Saturday Night Live comedian Nasim Pedrad as her witty maidservant Dalia. 

The film's new storytelling flourishes provide it with much-needed purpose (one other narrative twist towards the end proved a real crowd-pleaser where I was watching). Meanwhile Lock, Stock and Sherlock Holmes director Guy Ritchie beefs up the action sequences and can't resist giving them a bit of his trademark slo-mo. The costume and set design is as colourful as you'd expect - bright pastel to begin with and going full exploding spice market once Aladdin gets his 'Prince Ali' on. Menken has reworked his entire 1992 score - not just Jasmine's song - for the occasion with a full orchestra and there's a vitality to the entire enterprise best embodied by sprightly CGI monkey Abu. (Jasmine's tiger Rajah is impressively realised too.)

In short Aladdin 2019 pulls out all the stops to create a fun and contemporary version and does a creditable job. True you'll want to revisit the classic Disney take and revel once again in that Genie's groundbreaking antics, but taken on its own terms this is a success. Not a whole new world, perhaps, but fresh enough to put a whole new smile on your face.   

Gut Reaction: Mid-level enjoyment throughout, with occasional spikes into joy. 

Memorable Moment: Jasmine refuses to be 'speechless' second time around. That bit gave me goosebumps. 

Ed's Verdict: 7/10. Kids will love it and adults will be entertained, even if they can't help hankering for Robin Williams.

Godzilla: King of the Monsters (12A)

How many of these things are there?

2014 saw the release of Godzilla, the first film in Legendary Pictures' Monsterverse. Inspired by the Japanese classics of the '50s and '60s (rubber monster suits, papier mache cities) but with a decent budget, it demonstrated how a modern creature feature could be both epic and stylish. Here was a massive blockbuster with arthouse leanings - a monster movie with substance. How disappointing is it then that its sequel has managed to undo virtually everything that made it work so well? Enough to crush - not Tokyo, but certainly a small village on its outskirts.

Years have passed since Godzilla took down two other genuinely nasty critters in the Florida Keys, thereby saving the day for humanity. The Monarch research institute is monitoring the development of various dormant 'Titans' around the world, while Dr Emma Russell (Vera Farmiga) has developed a sonic thingummy to help tame the beasts once woken. But extremist eco-terrorists have other plans for her miraculous device, and very soon hell is breaking loose on a global scale, most scarily in the form of a three-headed dragon, King Ghidora. There's only room on the planet for one king, however, and soon Godzilla - our best and only hope - is striving to reclaim his place in the natural order.

One of the things I liked about the 2014 movie (and I can best critique the new one by looking back) was how it took a fundamentally silly premise and grounded it in the believable. A concrete scientific world was established, with the monstrous threat hinted at and then gradually revealed a la Jaws; when these titanic creatures finally took centre-stage, it felt like the world had gone mad. Shot from a ground-up perspective throughout, Godzilla and his rivals provided shivers of awe. Like director Gareth Edwards' indy film Monsters, or found-footage sci-fi Cloverfield, this film stayed human-centric, sustaining its grave sense of wonder. The cinematography was striking too, courtesy of Seamus McGarvey (Atonement, The Greatest Showman), delivering moments of visual poetry among the building mayhem.

King of the Monsters ditches all of that, personnel included, in a manner that's nothing short of reckless. 'There need to be more monsters, more often', was the cry from certain portions of Godzilla fandom - and ironically its the satisfying of that demand that brings this film down. The first great splurge of lizard-on-lizard action comes early, and it demolishes whatever interest had been building. The fight isn't even particularly well-shot - blurry and over-edited, with shaky-cam shots of human reactions adding to the confusion. (Monsterverse prequel Kong: Skull Island is a markedly better-looking film and more enjoyable as a result.) After that initial scrap the tension is gone, never to return. Mountains explode, oceans boil, cities are laid waste - but it's all so much sound and fury, with occasional flashes of beauty to remind you how awe-inspiring it all might have been.

All sadness here stems from wasted potential. There's homage paid to a host of 'kaiju' from the old Japanese franchise, while the movie addresses some pertinent environmental issues, but it all dissolves into the same soupy mess. So do the powerhouse human cast, aided by a screenplay full of risible exposition and sub-Independence Day one-liners. Ken Watanabe and Sally Hawkins' Godzilla survivors are joined by everyone from Charles Dance to Stranger Things' Milly Bobby Brown, and to their credit they play it with 100% conviction. But their combined efforts can't compete with the generic cinema monster that swallows them. (And to be honest once my favourite actor got squished with barely an afterthought 45 minutes in, the story lost me for good.)

 (It's not Milly Bobby.)

Granted some monster fans are loving the abundance of claw-on-tentacle action that makes it onto the screen this time around. 'It's a monster movie, not a human movie', they argue with undeniable logic. Call me spoiled, though, by the 2014 team. Edwards and co proved that a Godzilla movie could create taut suspense, root itself in humanity and deliver jaw-dropping fantasy action. For my money King of the Monsters does none of the above. It's just a crushing monster bore.  

Gut Reaction: An exponential downward curve from interest into tedium, with my score plummetting similarly along the way. 

Memorable Moment: The one around 40 minutes in, where I stopped caring. 

Ed's Verdict: 3/10. Rampage is better. The Meg is better. The '60s Japanese originals are way better. Tragically Godzilla 2019 is this year's Pacific Rim: Uprising - a  big dull disaster.