BLACK PANTHER: The latest stupid-hero movie is upon us -- and breaking records, of course

The difference this time is that the schlock is in black-face, which does make a nice change from the usual schlock in white-face (or, as per Wonder Woman, schlock in pseudo-feminist-face). Still, schlock is schlock. And, as a good friend of mine who, after hearing all the plaudits from amazed critics and so rushed off to see the film on opening day, pointed out to me: "It's a children's movie, for god's sake." Which does makes one wonder about the destabilization of our increasingly idiotic critical establishment.

Oh, the movie scores it points about racial inequality-and-so-on. But since it is all about having and using super-powers, so what? This does not make the film anything approaching "serious." There are some nice moments along the way, including a lovely comedic performance from Letitia Wright (as our hero's sister), and the finale did move me more than I expected. For that I credit the movie's courage in allowing a major character (Michael B. Jordan, above, the best thing in the film) to represent unalloyed black anger turned crazy and near-suicidal in the face of centuries of injustice.

Overall though, the film is too long, too obvious and too repetitive. Chadwick Boseman, above, is better seen in just about anything else (don't miss him as James Brown in Get on Up). The rest of the starry cast come through as expected but are unable to rise above the second-rate and second-hand material. Well, what do you want? It's Marvel, for fuck's sake. (And, no, DC ain't any better). This will be the last stupid-hero movie that TrustMovies bothers to view or review.

BLACK PANTHER, running two-and-one-quarter hours, is playing all over. Click here, if you must, to find a theater near you. For an antidote to this nonsense, I recommend you try Strong Island, streaming now on Netflix and nominated for the Best Documentary Oscar.

Streaming: Netflix's version of Marvel's DAREDEVIL proves noirish, nifty stuff

After the big-nothing that comprised the earlier version of twelve years ago, the new DAREDEVIL that debuted last week via the Netflix streaming service provides just about everything that the former dud lacked -- from the noirish and dank cityscape, in which bad things keep happening to good people, to the dark, monochromatic outfit our hero wears to hide his identity, to the wonderfully indeterminate time frame in which this story seems to exist.  (Is all this taking place it now, in the recent past, or maybe the near future? We can't really tell nor does it much matter. The place exists as a kind of ever-current depiction of the "big, scary, hugely corrupted city.")

TrustMovies is only now into the fourth episode of the thirteen that incorporate Daredevil's first season, each one coming in between 48 and 59 minutes. The tale -- of a boy, blinded in an accident in which he saved the life of an old man, now grown into a young man who has honed his other senses to their keenest levels so that he has become a lawyer by day (above, left, with his partner, played by Elden Henson) and vigilante by night, working out of Hell's Kitchen in the kind of uber-corrupt city that New York is always threatening to become -- seems a fine one for the episodic-yet-connected sort of series that Daredevil appears to be, at least at this point in its unfurling.

Bingers will probably do the entire first season in a day or weekend. It will most likely take me at least one week, given my episode-or-two-per-day approach. But I'm already hooked -- especially by the casting of Charlie Cox as Matt Murdock, a great "everyman" hero whose open, welcoming face and more-than-fit body makes him seem surprisingly real, but just a little more handsome and sexy (and a lot more alert) than your everyday "everyman." This is a the kind of character, coupled to a performance by the actor, that audiences will root for -- big-time.

Created by Drew Goddard (shown at right), the series makes clear from the outset that we will be fed Matt's backstory, in which his father figures most prominently, in bits and pieces, as is appropriate. The action scenes, of which there are plenty, are done extremely well -- cleverly straddling the line between real and just a little more than that -- while the casting of the female leads, Deborah Ann Wohl (below, right) and Rosario Dawson (at bottom, right) in the initial episodes, provides strength, smarts and pulchritude.

Best of all, perhaps, there are almost none of the increasingly leaden and over-used "special effects" that have rendered the Iron Man and Captain America franchises, for any vaguely intelligent audience, more and more difficult to sit through. Dardevil instead counts on smart plot mechanics, great action, and a top cast of professionals to hold us fast.

The writing (those first two episodes are by Mr. Goddard) is fine for this kind of show -- sharp and intelligent but in a quiet, economical, almost underhanded manner. And the direction of the first two episodes by Phil Abraham (Mad Men and The Sopranos) provides everything we need to become immediately involved and very well entertained.

There is simply so much of what they now call "content" available to view these days, that having the opportunity to see yet another series from yet another provider may not seem like anything special. If Daredevil adheres to the interest, pace and style of these first few episodes, I'd call it a keeper, for sure.

BOY WONDER, Michael Morrissey's mixed bag, is available now via VOD and DVD

Responsibility for the interesting but flawed film BOY WONDER most definitely lies with its writer/director/
producer Michael Morrissey. In this, his first foray into writing and directing (he's acted as producer on a number of house-and/or-home-related TV series), Morrissey (shown below) cleverly conflates a few different genres, from neo-noir and vigilante thriller to women-in-jeopardy and the more recent, would-be super-hero film. His questionable "hero," Sean Donovan, long ago saw his mother murdered during a car-jacking gone wrong, and he's never forgiven the murderer -- nor himself. But hey, he was only a kid at the time.

Older now (he appears to be one of those typical "elderly" high school students we so often see in the movies), Sean (played by Caleb Steinmeyer, below) is determined to protect abused women everywhere (in the Brooklyn area, at least), and so here he is saving the ladies and killing the guys. His modus operandi is a bit strange, however: He first interferes, allows himself to be beaten up, and then pulls knife or gun and gets down to the real work at hand. From a psychological standpoint of guilt and self-punishment, this makes some sense, and if the first part of the film were not so full of questionable moments, it would be easier to go along with it all. But little (and not so) things begin to rankle.

First there's the quite unbelievable conversation that Detective Ames (Zulay Henao, below, right) has with an arch villain named Larry Childs (James Russo) -- right in the middle of a courtroom. Later Ames finds Sean alone in the police station at night and appears to accept everything he says at face value. And, boy, is Sean ever privy to an awful lot of woman/child abuse. Literally everywhere he looks, something bad is going on. Plus, some of the villains seem a bit more attuned to reality than is Sean: "You didn't save her; you made it worse," one of them tells the kid. Most damaging of all is the fact that we have a hero who's a one-note whack job, and would, in any real world, long ago have been committed to a hospital.

But then small parcels of further information get dropped in our laps, and as we learn more about the situation, it deepens and begins to interest us. Sean's dad, for instance, is not (or at least was not always) the fine, loving father we initially see. And what's with that odd chemical compound the kid's been looking up on the internet? Coincidences abound, and soon it begins to look like everything is connected. The ending moves from shocking to delicious to ironic and darkly funny.

Should you stick things out, you'll probably be glad you did, for that finale is indeed crackerjack. If you give up halfway along, however, no one would blame you, for the movie, finally, falls somewhere between the near-rave, three-and-one-half stars that Roger Ebert gave it, and the deadly pan that The New York Times reviewer Jeannette Catsoulis handed out.

Boy Wonder, from Inception Media Group, hit the streets this past November 8 on DVD, and has been available via VOD since late October. Further good news: Netflix starts renting it out this Tuesday, November 22.

Leon Ford's GRIFF THE INVISIBLE opens: love & "superherodom" (superherodumb?)

A film so dunder-headed I felt compelled to tell its hard-working publicist that a theatrical release was ill-advised (how's that for chutzpah?!), GRIFF THE INVISIBLE turns out to be the biggest waste of time I have seen this year. Despite appealing perfor-mances from its two leads, Ryan Kanten (who was excellent in last years neo-western, revenge thriller Red Hill) and Maeve Dermody (new to me), the film clearly wants to be a delicate little love story that plays around with the current and by-now way-overdone superhero theme. But in its conception and execution it is very nearly brainless from the get-go.

From Kick-Ass to Super, we've had a number of other oddball superhero movies. What does this one, from actor-turned-writer/
director Leon Ford (shown, left) bring to the table? Griff marks Ford's first full-length endeavor, and his film would seem to be about growing up and facing real life. But no, instead it's about growing up and facing your fake life. Which is, I guess, more fun (but not, in this case, for viewers).

The movie offers us and our hero a crime wave that doesn't really exist (but gives him a reason to be super), invisibility (that isn't), and finally a non-super superhero. There' a parallel universe with a ridiculous explanation and the usual plot contrivance of an overheard conversation (only partially, in this case) that has a pointless and stupid result.

Though Kwanten (above) and Dermody (below) could make lovely music together, the movie itself in style and content is so unremittingly fey, twee and twat-ish that its unrelenting cuteness could curdle your milk.

There are evidently critics out there who have embraced the film (Vogue magazine's is one of these), so please take my nasty words as just another opinion. Yet I am flummoxed as to what this film is trying to tell us. Its very purpose would seem to be helping people stay deluded, while its characters are the reason we have mental institutions. Griff the Invisible is mind-boggling in the worst way.

The movie opens Friday, August 19, in New York City at the Village East Cinema in Los Angeles at the NuArt, and elsewhere. Click here to find cities, dates and theaters over the next month or two.

Michael Barnett's new documentary SUPERHEROES world-premieres on HBO

"Having superpowers does not necessarily make you a superhero," notes one of the self-titled breed featured in this bizarre (in so many ways) new documentary that premieres Monday night, August 8, on HBO. "Having super-motivation and doing super deeds: I think that's what makes you a superhero." To TrustMovies' mind, that word "necessarily" in  the above sentence rather immediately places this speaker into the mode of comic-book reality. So, then, some people do possess superpowers?  Say, Superman, Santa Claus, God and Rupert Murdoch? (Well, until the latter's staff began its "breaking-and-entering" phase.)

In SUPERHEROES, the new, yes, documentary(!) directed by first-time filmmaker Michael Barnett (shown below) and produced by Theodore James, we meet a bunch of would-be superheroes who dress in costume (that often disguises the face) and set about making our world a better place. But do they? That's up for grabs. The initial demonstration of this is exhibited via the speaker's words accompanied by animated frames that tell the story of how he protected a woman undergoing a terrible beating. I'll buy that. Or maybe not. The movie-makers do damn little investigation of whether or not anything their assembled "cast" says is verifiable.

Accompanying these people on their rounds produces no real confrontations, so we're left to listen to them ramble on, interrupted by a few other talking heads.  One is that of a policewoman, Lt. Brown, who expounds on how vigilante justice is problematic (good-ness knows, we've had movies telling us the same thing for years now). Then some kind of psychologist takes the other route, explaining and perhaps trying to justify these would-be mother's (and daddy's) helpers. The two viewpoints cancel each other out.

Which seems appropriate, as much of this movie appears to cancel itself out. So many of the folk whom we meet in this odd film -- Xtreme Justice League (and Mr. Xtreme, shown below); Zimmer, Lucid, Z and T.S.A.F. (the "T" is silent), from what they call The New York Initiative; Master Legend (who in one nutty moment, tells a paraplegic that he (Master Legend) has a pipeline to god: "He always listen to me!"); Zetaman; Dark Guardian; Thanatos (shown at bottom, from Canada!) and, as a corrective, I guess, Life (who services Manhattan's homeless) -- seem to have but a nodding acquaintance with what many of us would call reality.

Zimmer, quite waif-like for a superhero, wants to corral the bad guys who prey upon gays, but his modus operandi smacks, as the Lieutenant points out, of entrapment. "Never drink to drunkenness," Master Legend tells us as he downs a beer, though it looks he's halfway there already. Mr Xtreme -- overweight, with parents who make fun of him, no social life and few of the skills one would imagine a superhero needs (we see him in a fighting match, which he loses) -- seems simply sad.

Throughout this documentary, there's a queasy sense of mixing up life and fantasy, reality and dreams. And this is apparent not just in the cast of "superheroes" but within the film-making team itself. Its organization is all over the place, to the extent that we're not sure just what the aim is: to explain, help, hinder or make fun. It may be true, as a couple of the heroes point out, that "society just isn't working anymore," but will a costume and good intentions make it all better?

Well, among these heroes is one who manages a Toys-for-Kids project, while another provides the homeless with deodorant and toiletries. That's a plus. Finally, they all meet at -- yes -- Comic-Con in San Diego, which perhaps is where they really belong. As unsure as I am about the usefulness of these superheroes, I am equally flummoxed by the point of this documentary. However, if a bunch of rabid, tea-party Republicans can bring our nation to the point of breakdown over a phony debt crisis that no one really believes in (or why was the debt ceiling raised without quibble a dozen times under George W. Bush -- who spent three times what our current and rotten-to-the-core President has spent?), then I suppose it is perfectly OK to look to superheroes (or people who somehow think they are superheroes) to solve our problems. Holy shit -- it just hit me: This may be the perfect documentary for our end-of-times!

You can see Superheroes on HBO, starting Monday evening August 8 at 9 (Eastern and Pacific time). Check your local HBO schedule for further showings (click on the link, go to the bottom of the screen, at right, and click on Schedule). Eventually, I expect, there's be streaming and/or DVDs.