I SAW DUNE PROPHESY (AN IMPRESSION)

I feared Dune: Prophesy might get too bogged down in political ramifications, in the way of SyFy's complex Krypton, and damn it, it did. Political anchoring needn't be a cloudy hinderance, if such draws one in, and Dune: Prophesy had the advantage of weaving spirituality into its power-and-control theme, but when push came to shove, it was at best an exercise in chatter. 

I'll admit, it wasn't too hard for me to latch on to the virile aspects of the miniseries, watching as I did through the eyes and actions of Mark Strong's Emperor Javicco Corrino and Travis Fimmel's Desmond Hart, and for what it's worth, Emily Watson's Valya Harkonnen felt quite right in her regal status (channeling, for all intent, Judi Dench), but I wanted desperation and rage to permeate through all the dissertation. I wanted a friggin, full-blown, extraterrestrial, Game of Thrones-meets-Black Narcissus. I wanted the prequel to brew and bubble over in its desperate, Sisterhood prophesy of a messiah's rise, or at least something like that. I mean, for crying out loud, this thing flows like Exorcist II: The Heretic on valium, and though I realize such an approach might attract a rebellious few, I still maintain that even the most pensive sojourns require thundery claps, and by that I mean, more than just a sex scene, a sand-worm cameo, a come-and-go explosion ... a Last Jedi-influenced melee. To worsen matters, Prophesy follows such things with lengthy regurgitations of whispery nonchalance. 

To toss further dust on the dying fire, the times when Prophesy proved beautiful to behold (evading, oddly enough, substantial, Lawrence of Arabia stretches for landscapes that invoke The Ewok Adventures, Lord of the Rings, Zardoz and Excalibur), there would come moments when even the travelogue backdrops felt like watching paint dry. (This is one of the things I find irksome about the Harry Potter franchise, where sorcery, no matter how elevated, feels flat, especially when the glitz is wiped away to reveal a Hitler Jugend agenda.) 

Now, I'm happy to say that I didn't detect anything ideologically amiss (i.e. too radical) in Prophesy, but even so, I wanted it to move me in the most positive and profound way. I don't see the point of HBO Max extending it, anymore than I see the network's necessity to rehash all that propagandist, anti-Semitic, Potter fluff. Please, nurture The Penguin instead, and from there, the subscription-viewing region will be all the better for it, not to mention Dune's theatrical continuation. In other words, we don't need a yawn-fest to blunt what's become a prosperous, big-screen perch.

Holy Moly! I saw Captain Shazam...

The reluctance (or legal inability) of DC/WB to call the hero of "Shazam!" by his proper name irks me. 

I blame DC primarily for this, and it all goes back to the lawsuit aimed at Fawcett/Whiz Comics in the '50s, which may or may not have been justified, depending on one's perspective. Captain Marvel does owe lots to Superman, to the point where one might claim that the original Captain Marvel is Superman with a modified outfit and Fred MacMurray face. 

I also blame Marvel Comics for stealing the name and general concept during the '60s. As such, the adventures of the veritable Captain Marvel went under the "Shazam!" title for decades once DC got the character rights, but that exotic, associated term was never more than an incantation, culled from a sorcerer's name. On this basis, I must say that any version that uses Shazam for any other propose should lose a pivotal point, but no worries. The Earth's Mightiest Mortal now goes by no name in particular, more or less. 

The new "Shazam!", produced by horror-flick veteran, Peter Safran, directed by David "Annabelle: Creation" Sandberg and scripted by Henry "Earth to Echo" Gayden, does stick to the mythology's traditional form, with Asher Angel's Billy Batson turning into a colorful, cheerful superhero, portrayed by Zachary "Thor 2 & 3" Levi (looking every ounce the part). However, this edition manifests its powerful protagonist via a contemporary boy's perpetual perspective, in what becomes a Dickens-esque overlap of "Big" and "Man of Steel". (In all honesty, I'm more in sync with the '40s movie serial and '70s live-action, Filmation television series, where Batson and Captain Marvel merge with the sole sensibility of a mature man in order to right wrongs. So be it...)

At any rate, with Batson struggling to understand the extent of his powers, "Shazam!" sometimes mirrors more "The Greatest American Hero" than what's influenced previous adaptations, and again, I guess that's well and good. Batson at least climbs the ranks as he should: a Jack Armstrong-ish, wayward kid with a decent heart, who defends his foster brother, Freddy Freeman, played by Jack Dylan Grazer and in the process gains the blessing of the Rock of Eternity wizard, Shazam (an anagram of Solomon, Hercules, Atlas, Zeus, Achilles and Mercury), played by regal Djimon Hounsou. In a snap, Batson becomes more than mere boy, adapting amazing abilities and a red, costumed frame to match, again only hindered by an ironing out of the kinks.  

A bad guy emerges (introduced in a harrowing prologue) in the form of Dr. Thaddeus Sivana, played by Mark "Sherlock Holmes" Strong. The sinful Sivana is one of comic lore's most seasoned villains, who's more formidable here than he ever was on the page, but for conflict's sake, that's okay, too. He stands as a symbolic, conglomerate force to overcome for our morphing crusader once the amusing warm-ups are through.  

Though the film is designed as a blithe, reality-tripper on Philly turf, it reminds one to believe in oneself, for it's one's inner strength--and not necessarily one's supernatural bulk--that makes one great. Batson matures in this respect as the plot progresses, becoming less the "Big Red Cheese" and more the marvel he was meant to be. Freeman (the en-route Captain Marvel Jr) and foster sister, Mary Bromfield (the en-route Mary Marvel), played by Grace Fulton, offer essential support, guiding Batson toward his pious perch as much as the esteemed wizard. (In fact, Batson's entire foster family does more than right by him, as one will see.)

Ah, if kids today only cared to view movies like "Shazam!", they might learn a thing or two about decency and responsibility. Alas, unlike kids of the past who were grateful to applaud Captain Marvel (whether through comics or as performed by Tom Tyler, Jackson Bostwick or John Davey), the current crop seems more inclined to poke one another with plastic wands and then whine about how much it smarts.  

This irrefutable, social downside is troubling. Considering the cutey-pie lay of the land, does "Shazam!" stand any sincere chance of appealing to mature folks who prefer their magically sprung icons resolute and brave? You got me.

I only know that this incarnation isn't all that it could be (i.e., it's not the film I'd have made), and yet it entertains with a giddy girth that modern, sissified sorcery evades. Take the good with the bad, I suppose. 

Despite its hero not bearing the proper name, "Shazam!" could still be a hit, if old-timers like me rally around it. I sure hope there are enough of us to award this superheroic, coming-of-age tale the financial prosperity it deserves.