I saw Haunted Mansion 2023

I'm a fan of the Disney/Rob Minkoff (2003) Haunted Mansion: you know, the one with Eddie Murphy and Terence Stamp, plus Jennifer Tilly and Nathaniel Parker as the otherworldly Madame Leota and Master Edward Gracey, in a setup that rolls like The Fall of the House of Usher meets The Ghost and Mr. Chicken. I'd have appreciated a direct sequel to that submission, but alas, such wasn't to be. However, a new take on Disney's theme attraction has manifested: a reboot, for the lack of a better term. 

This particular Haunted Mansion, directed by Justin Simien and penned by Katie Dippold, is a cross between The Legend of Hell House and Ghostbusters: Afterlife, with lots of 13 Ghosts (either version) slapped on top. It features Rosario Dawson's Gabbie and Chase Dillon's Travis, her son, who move into a big, old "home" in New Orleans that's (surprise!) plagued by ghosts who refuse to leave. They also wish to keep those who dare enter for their very own. 

Gabbie recruits "experts" to purge the problem: LaKeith Stanfield's Ben Matthias (a heartbroken astrophysicist who's invented a spirit-capturing camera); Danny DeVito's Professor Bruce Davis (who knows the mansion's haunted history); Owen Wilson's Father Trent (allegedly skilled in the fine art of exorcism); and Tiffany Haddish's psychic Harriet (a harbinger of vast abilities, despite her family's ridicule). They're anxious people with their hearts in the right place, but due to the taunting, spectral ensemble (each member pulled from Disney's park-lore and refashioned via smoky CGI) in over their heads.

Jamie Lee Curtis is the lead, guest-starring, virtuous ghost, the neo Madame Leota, and she gets lots of mileage from the supporting role, as she advises from a crystal ball. J.R. Adduci is the neo Gracey (as heartbroken as our poor Ben), with Jared Leto as "The Hatbox Ghost," Alistair Crump, who's pretty damn creepy and the inside instigator of the plot's plight. (Winona Ryder offsets the mysterious interaction, as a guide for Crump's alternate mansion, giving the sojourn a little Beetlejuice kick; and Schitt's Creek's Dan Levy does a swell job channeling Charles Nelson Reilly for some welcome, Ghost and Mrs. Muir levity.) 

The movie drives home the necessity of coexistence, no matter our differences or emanations, and perhaps along the way, the courage to accept our flaws and overcome our doubts to make it through life ... and death. Each of the investigators, despite their admirable distinctions, craves redemption from past trials and with such, validation. In a way, Gabby and Travis are in the same disconcerting boat, hoping to gain their cozy niche when others have already claimed it. (For current Disney, this chink-in-the-armor approach is refreshing, considering its recent penchant for monotonous Mary Sues.)

I can only say what others have said about Haunted Mansion 2023. It's an even-tempered, throwback, family flick and should excel as such, but do families go to theaters these days? It seems a rare occurrence, and so, how might that impact the studio's second stab at an old standard? Despite the odds against its box-office success (and the lingering stain of Disney's patronizing missteps), I hope this particular effort prospers, not because it's any sort of stupendous game changer, but rather that it's the humble antithesis. 

Monster Team-up: I saw the Living Vampire...

Marvel's Michael Morbius has always been a big deal to me, and it goes way back to when creators Matt Tolmach and Lucas Foster unleashed him on the '71 scene. Like Hulk and Thing, Dr. Morbius is a monsterized superhero and therefore the embodiment of the best of both fantastic worlds. 

For the present, he's featured in a live-action adaptation, directed by Eric Espinosa and scripted by Matt Sazama and Burk Sharpless, which takes the famed Living Vampire's visage to a whole new level. 

Jared Leto, who made quite a devilish Joker in Zack Snyder's DC-verse, plays the determined, blood-diseased doctor, searching to purge his emaciating infection, when--unholy smokes!--he conceives a vampire-bat serum that not only keeps him alive, but turns him into a simulated vampire, with all the high-flying traits associated with the legend, as well as a pale, batty semblance sprung straight from Marvel's iconic pages. 

Morbius' pal, Loxius "Milo" Crown, played by Matt (Doctor Who) Smith, is plagued by the same affliction, but when he discovers the serum, he transforms himself into a vampire geared for conceited bad, and of course, a friends-turned-enemies conundrum strikes, with a monster-vs-monster battle ensuing right to the biting end. 

To the movie's additional benefit, the supporting cast is stellar, with the distinguished Jared Harris as Morbius' parental mentor, Emil Nikos; Adria Arjona as Morbius' fiancé (and co-concoctor of his "cure"), Martine Bancroft; and Tyresse Gibson as Simon Stroud, a FBI agent who tracks the monsters' whereabouts much as Jack Colvin's Jack McGee does on The Incredible Hulk television series. Stroud's partner, Al Rodriguez, played by Al Madrigal, lends an everyman affability to the ongoing hunt.

The story's best moments are its rapid, vampiric transformations (nicely accompanied by Jon  Ekstrand's excellent score). Sadly, Bancroft drags the story in spots where it should stay zinging. (Let's face it, a weepy nag is never a win-over, even if damn attractive.)

There are times when Morbius mimics Venom I & II with its chaotic, urban-jungle swing, which isn't so surprising considering that the Living Vampire is relegated to Eddie Brock's original, movie niche. However, Michael Keaton's cameo as Adrian Toomes, aka the Vulture, creates an even further tying twist, since he links to Tom Holland's first "solo", Spidey flick. 

All in all, Morbius isn't any more innovative than the standard, comic-book flick, but like those that have come before it, it entertains. Moreover, it slaps a tried-and-true favorite onto the big screen, making this movie an official part of Marvel's Multiverse bible. Now it's just a matter of bringing Spidey's Sony characters into a singular fold, and we're all set!

HAPPY 80TH, JOKER!!!

You've succeeded in being witty, deranged and above all, dangerous: one of the most vexing villains ever to hit comics, cartoons or film.

Your personas are varied and include such iconic performers as Cesar Romero, Jack Nicholson, Heath Ledger, Jared Leto, Joaquin Phoenix and Mark Hamill. 

You continue to hypnotize and surprise, acting as the foremost antithesis of Gotham's Dark Knight: a tenacious Hyde to his stalwart Jekyll, even though you've both been spotted sipping from the same brotherly pool.

Happy Anniversary, Mr. Joker. May your Crown Prince reign of terror continue for eighty more and beyond, reminding us that even the most virtuous must sometimes unleash a hardy, maniacal guffaw.

I saw Blade Runner 2049...

That in the Year 2019, our reality won't reflect the melancholy wonders of Ridley Scott's "Blade Runner", or for that matter the Phillip K. Dick novel upon which it's based, designates its sequel to the same, alternate-reality scheme. However, Denis "Arrival" Villeneuve's sequel, "Blade Runner 2049", produced by Scott and penned by Hampton Francher (the original's scriptwriter) and Michael Green (of "Logan", "Green Lantern" and "Alien: Covenant" fame) becomes its own speculative entity, while savoring the original's flavor.

Scott's classic was characterized by an invading Japanese, cultural influence, but since Japan has opted for a less effective, economic prowess, the predictions of '82 no longer hold weight. Gone is the Asian panache, perhaps to symbolize Japan's subdued status, but at least the original's New Wave, anguished-android glow still occupies the landscape.

In Scott's world and Villeneuve's re-entry into it, the androids are pretentiously called replicants. They're still abused and confused, just like Rutger Hauer's Roy Batty and Daryl Hannah's Priss. That's good, because their rebellious response makes sense in such a cold, cruel, computerized world. Also, to underscore the replicants' empathetic traits, classic questions remain: Are they mere devices for us to use as we please? Do these "machines" have the right to snap from their stupors and revolt? For that very matter, do they ever dream of electric sheep? Fans of both Dick's novel and the Scott/Fancher adaptation would say yes, but in "Blade Runner'"s extended universe, the same prejudices and misconceptions persist decades after the fact.

In particular, they hound beleaguered, replicant blade runner (yep, you heard right) Officer K, portrayed with somber, Harrison Ford-esque focus by Ryan Gosling. During K's duties and musings, he stumbles upon a long concealed plot with startling consequences. (Say, do androids reproduce?) However, K must substantiate his suspicions through investigation, which leads him to former blade runner Rick Deckard, reintroduced per Ford's seamless artistry. Deckard, we learn, has been out of the loop for some thirty years. As expected, he's not easy to find and once K does locate him, the old gent appears as woeful and vexed as when last seen. 

Fans of the '82 classic may not fancy what's become of Deckard: his fate having been mulled over by viewers for so many years that this film's lonely relegation might feel anti-climatic, if not disenchanting. (Personally, I felt quite at ease with it.) But as significant as Deckard is to the mythology, "Blade Runner" followers must surely realize he's not its only component. 

In this new story line, we're offered additional characters (android and human) to accentuate and oppose Deckard's painful perspectives: replicant designer/guru Niander Wallace (a next-generation edition of Joe Turkel's Eldon Tyrell), portrayed with creepy calm by Jared Leto; "Guardians of the Galaxy'"s Dave Bautista as renegade farmer Sapper Morton; "Walking Dead'"s Lennie James as child, sweat-shop overseer Mister Cotton; Robin Wright as cynical but supportive Lt. Joshi; Mackenzie Davis as sexy Mariette; Sylvia Hoeks as tough Luv; Carla Juri as memory-maker-with-a-profound-secret Ana Stelline; and paying us a sentimental cameo, Edward James Olmos as our old pal, Gaff. The film also contains a sporadic, holographic beauty in Ana de Armas' Joi. 

In addition to being easy on the eyes, Joi gives the plot its sense of normalcy and hope, not unlike Dick's Rachel, who came to be played by the stylish Sean Young. Since leading-lady Joi owes much to leading-lady Rachael, she isn't as novel as her counterpart, but fills the spot with loads of charm. As with Deckard, Joi's position in the story may not satisfy those craving an elongated manifestation of Rachael/Young, whose presence is felt, but only in a throbbing-thread way. Again, "2049" may link to the old, but as mentioned, it's also its own thing; and allows Joi to present her own compassionate and encouraging variation: ironic since she's artificial, but then, per Dick's fable, does that matter in cognition's pensive plan?

The story's revealed secret, in the wake of its "human" touch, is powerful, but perhaps not as important as its emotional and visual execution. (If the truth be known, "2049" cuts more along the lines of "Futureworld" and the recent, revisionist "Westworld" than its founding, cinematic chapter.) Atmosphere is what matters here. Though "2049" isn't characterized with as much wet, twinkling glitz as its predecessor (snow is this picture's rage), it still looks great--no, make that feels great--in the Syd Mead way we desire, and when required, remains respectful to the initial film's gum-shoe framework. To have abandoned that aspect would have been disastrous, but Villeneuve, Francher, Green and cinematographer Roger Deakins never let us down, granting us another fascinating, futuristic Mickey Spillane. (For the record, Deakins pays such exquisite homage to Jordan Cronenweth's influential '82 photography that many are proclaiming his work Oscar worthy.)

Indeed, beyond the film's moody meaning, it's the engrossing splicing of old and new that makes this follow-up worth one's while. "Blade Runner" fans, therefore, should be satisfied with the film's overall aura and may possibly find  "2049" even stronger upon repeated viewings. It may not be the vision they long sought or imagined, but as time passes, they're destined to rank it high on the sequel scale.