Barbershop: The Next Cut (2016)

You know, when you really think about it, Ice Cube, at his technical, cinematic apogee, is an unsung hero in the field of minimalist veracity. Hell, look at his acting style. He barely seems like he's even breaking a sweat. He wanders through his scenes as if he's just going through the motions of his daily regimen. He never seems to let his guard down or offer any hint of external emotional fragility. He's just Ice Cube, complete with his sinister sneer he always dons, yet these inadequacies only make him more charismatic, fluid, authentic. As a producer and writer, his signature style is much more polished and finely-tuned.

With Friday, he, alongside DJ Pooh, wrote a riotous, infectious comedy with bare-bones resources. Centered on a single day, he injected his script with a crass, chill edge and a glut of energy, without any alterations to his style, thus defining the new era of urban comedies. With Barbershop, under his production company, Cube Vision, he had not a credit on that film, besides acting. Yet, his distinct handle was pervasive. Sure it featured a lot of clunky, expository dialogue and it wasn't exactly surprising, as far as where the path ended, but the path itself was. While most urban comedies revolved around superficial gimmicks and stereotypes, Barbershop's core was the camaraderie and the seamless conversations which, while seemingly exaggerated and too well-timed, still had an ambience that conjured up actual conversations. Ice Cube's essence in film is simplicity, which is revealing, coming from someone who brought us some of the most hyperaggressive, incendiary music ever made.

However, he never seems to have an steely grip on sequels, which proved to persist with the release of Barbershop II, where realism was sacrificed for diluted, predictable, safe, TV style-tropes and an excessive sentimental streak. It felt more like a corporate product with every nuance and line of dialogue timed like clockwork to cash in on Barbershop's success. And that was his good sequel, mind you. So, the next installment, released 12 years after the first sequel, certainly had every reason to fail. So, how come this film is not only the best sequel Ice Cube had a hand in making, but also the best of the Barbershop franchise? Why, oh why?

The film brings us back to Calvin's Barbershop, located in the South Side of Chicago. Since the second film, Chicago has seen a notable increase in gang violence. This doesn't provide anyone with any sense of security, even for an area where there was none to begin with. Calvin (Ice Cube) finds himself struggling with the task of having to raise his teenage son, Jalen (Michael Rainey Jr.), in this upheaval. His seemingly only haven is the aforementioned barbershop, which has since become co-ed. However, even the crowning glory he adopted is still faced with tumultuous struggles. The staff unanimously decide to organize a two-day ceasefire event to promote peace, harmony, and well-being. However, Calvin has secret plans to relocate the shop to the North Side. Will the event lead to any change? Will it be a time for a change of location? Will Nicki Minaj's ass escape the woesome confines of the big screen and land comfortably in our laps? So many questions to be answered.

Was this sequel set up for failure? In the theory that we have been awashed with a teeming amount of belated sequels? Yes. With actual context? No. Director Malcolm Lee has experience with saving potential-belated-sequel-disasters (see The Best Man Holiday), as well as a highly in-demand auteur of African-American cinema, but it goes beyond that.

Last year, Ice Cube was one of the six producers of the fervently acclaimed, Straight Outta Compton. That film was aligned impeccably to the issues and turmoil of the present whilst being exuberantly nostalgic about the past. It was both an incredulous outcry and an unmitigated celebration. The same can be said with this film. As I stated earlier, the first two films, while made under Cube's production company, were not produced in any way by him. This time, he is a producer, along with returning producers, Robert Tietel and George Tillman, Jr. While the first two films definitely had an ambiance of Cube, this one has the impassioned care of a man who, at this point, is existing through his past and is both celebrating and reviling both the past and present.  

The elementary conflict is the pertinent violence in Chicago, which has caused the name "Chiraq" to be unfortunately bestowed onto the city. The high volume of teens enveloped in this turbulence transfers on screen to the paranoia of Calvin with his son. His son has a friend, Kenny, whom has a violent history. Given the involvement of gangs in the city, when Jalen gets involved in a fight, Kenny is assumed to be one who ignited the fight. It turns out that one of them is actually planning (will not spoil) to join the Bloods, which reveal a very frightening tenet of the film and reality, in general.

However, as cold and dark as the historical context is, it still manages to be warm with the synergy of the barbershop crew, immediately eliciting moments of the first two films and getting us quickly back in the swing of things. There are several callbacks made to the first two films. Terri (Eve) still whines about men drinking her apple juice. J.D. (Anthony Anderson), while reformed, is still a hustler.

Oh, and might I add, outside of being warm, it is also highly humorous. This is the funniest of the franchise. If I hadn't been attending the film with my father, it would have been more probable that I'd have more carefully taken note of the best. It also takes advantage of the notion that comedy derives from pain, as the films manage to wring some big laughs in the most tense or pensive moments.

Most of the cast is new, but fit in perfectly with the seasoned vets. I already mentioned the insidious bravura of Ice Cube's stilted, one-note acting, but Cedric the Entertainer makes a triumphant and marvelous return as Eddie, the cantakerous, condescending, misogynist old man, who gets some of the film's best moments and Eve brings the sass, integrity, and attitude that enlivened her character, Terri. Rapper Common is amiable as Rashad, Tyga as gangleader Yummy illuminates a collected, controlled menace that surprised me immensely, J.B. Smoove seethes with effervescence as One Stop, Lamorne Morris gives a hypnotically joyful performance as hopeless romantic Jerrod, and Nicki Minaj, while possessing a emotional range that varies from "Mmm yeah" to "Oh no," manages to be quite convincing as...a male-hungry, thick-bodied, ratchet skank. Hey, say what you will, but it is probably the best performance we will EVER get from Nicki Minaj. I mean, if Minaj can go through an entire film talking in her nasally, slurry drawl without being obnoxious, it's an impressive performance. And dat ass doe!

The amalgamation of the old and the new characters adds to the richness of the film. Every place has the regulars and the new people, some of whom become regulars, and the cycle continues. I have an investment in these characters. I admire these characters. They're colorful yet relatable. Why? Because no matter if you are in a Metropolitan area or a village with a population of 80, everyone has that Barbershop. Even if you don't have a barbershop, you have a Barbershop. This is Ice Cube's invitation to his Barbershop, thus allowing us to vicariously be promoted from newbie to regular, if we so choose. Though the films may end or stunt in progress, the Barbershop will never close because that fundamental essence of unity never dies. While the films opens on images of tragedy, the films closes on images of hope and an optimistic future. That is what the Barbershop is all about. As well, tantalizing us with Nicki Minaj's backside helps too.

RATING: Three-and-a-half stars out of four

Deadpool (2016)

You know, as someone who considers myself a pop culture maven, thoroughgoing in pursuits to truly cover all fields and encyclopedic after covering them, I actually have moderate, albeit less-than-excepted, experience in espying many of the contents that pop culture has to offer firsthand. I seem to live vicariously in the pop culture geography, knowing a lot, yet not having seen a lot. I know it is poison to admit these sorts of shortcomings, but I am all about following the best policy: honesty. I am a pop culture fanatic, but I do have much more to learn. I can attribute this to the pursuit of other endeavors, potential lack of proper resources/time, etc., but whatever the reason, there it is for you. I say this not to allay my reputation, but to provide some context when I say that I have not read the Deadpool comic.

I actually am not a comic book reader. I am not opposed to it. I just haven't gotten around to reading one. I am aware of his connection with the X-Men universe, but I am not a scholar of the Deadpool character. That's why when I first saw the original test footage circa 2012 when the Deadpool film was first being developed, I cringed, witnessing something with such infuriatingly, patent motives and a self-consciously, obnoxiously snarky style, complete with madcap, ham-handed execution. And this was a mere 4-minute clip. The strange part is...remnants of my original diatribe remain. And it works.

The film revolves around Wade Wilson, a mercenary in New York, who describes himself as "the Tooth Fairy that knocks your teeth out and steals your cash." He becomes romantically involved with a prostitute named Vanessa and life seems to be going well, until he becomes diagnosed with cancer. Thankfully (or so is thought), a recruiter approaches Wade, claiming that he has a serum that can cure his illness, as well as giving him special abilities. He departs from Vanessa in secrecy and heads off to the secret lab, where he meets Ajax, real name Francis. He injects Wade with the serum, but at the culmination of continuously tense interplay, his body becomes mutated and is left for dead. However, the serum has given him immortality and he lives through the catastrophe. He escaped the "Dead Pool," but he is still disgusted and embarrassed by his appearance, so he decides to put his fresh, mint abilities to use, become Deadpool, and force Ajax to fix his face.

The film is humor-oriented. The humor in this film is crass, excessively meta, obnoxiously self-referential, persistently transparent, profoundly offensive, and is executed without the slightest ioda of grace, tact, care, and attention. If Guardians of the Galaxy was crafted with a meticulous, sixth sense for comedy, Deadpool seems to have been assembled by throwing stuff haphazardly in a blender and hoping something of quality is produced. In other words, Guardians of the Galaxy is the giddy nerd. Deadpool is the lumbering, frat-boy bully. They do, however, share one quality: sheer hilarity.

Not only does this film add itself to the catalog of the funniest comic book films, it may go down as one of the funniest films of all time. The secret is that while the comedy lacks in precision, it is overflowing with brio. It's that sole component that makes it seem less like a halfhearted affair and more like a session of comic book geeks realizing what they have on their hands, deciding to get inebriated, and writing whatever they please, as they laugh their heads off, unconcerned with perceptions and concerned with having fun and amusing themselves. It all seems so happily and eagerly executed, underneath the jokes involving incest.

While first-time director Tim Miller and screenwriters Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick are definitely the unlikely heroes, the spearhead of this energetic enterprise is  producer and leading man Ryan Reynolds, unleashing a side of him that hasn't really been seen. 2005's Waiting was the closest (and we all know how exciting and memorable that movie was), but a sizable amount of his work consists of nice-guy romantic comedy roles and basic, one-dimensional hero roles (*cough cough* Green Lantern?). I haven't seen much of his filmography, but I can bet any amount of money that this loud, brass, profane, gleefully cynical side of his persona has not been as fully realized, if at all, as it has been in this movie. It seems as if Reynolds is apologizing for keeping too close a watch on his testicles, so he compensates by going balls-to-the-wall. It's a fair trade, indeed. However, he does have some decent support behind him as well. Ed Skrein isn't given the meatiest role ever, but still delivers a fervently slimy, ferociously entertaining performance as Ajax. Morena Baccarin portrays Vanessa, taking this stereotypical, scant role and infuses it with the proper amounts of anguish, strength, vulnerability, and raw sexuality. It's one of the best eye candy superhero film performances in the history of cinema.

The irony is that a film that seems to be built on maladroit presentation and frenetic energy actually manages to deliver the remaining elements with actual dignity and coherence. The action sequences are astonishing, mostly due to how grisly the images can be. The movie is R-rated for a reason. However, they are extremely rousing, in particular a section at the end of the final battle that's so jaw-dropping and tense that I had an out-of-body experience. And, as expected, most of them maintain that kinetic, loony energy. It's the Tarantino of comic book films. As well, the use of the soundtrack supplies more comedic moments. While Guardians of the Galaxy's soundtrack was more 70s-based, Deadpool looks, primarily, to the 80s, particularly in a running joke about Deadpool's affinity for Wham! You will experience his wrath if you don't emphasize the exclamation point.

This film really could've gone either way. It had the potential of disaster and success written on it simultaneously. As is, it is one of the most entertaining Marvel adaptations, this side of Guardians of the Galaxy. While raunchy and clunky on the surface, it actually one-ups Guardians in a lot of ways. It's hard to say which one is better, but Deadpool has its own unique, winsome niche. It's incredible how the most overblown, ostentatious, and amateurish aspects of a film can be the most advantageous. It is the freak accident of cinema and a miraculous one at that.

On a side note, any sentient, moderately intelligent adult who chooses to bring a young child to this film, like the couple at AMC in Victoria Gardens, I must ask for your name, address, and phone number. A claim to Child Protective Services might be in the best interest for all parties involved.

RATING: Three-and-a-half stars out of four

Zootopia (2016)

You know, we are truly living in one of the most progressive stages in the history of children's entertainment. While the more close-minded, pedantic crowd, who wishes every piece of childhood entertainment would be EXACT to the canon from their own childhood, would preach that due the increased role of technology, which has killed off the American-as-apple-pie tradition of the Saturday morning cartoon, children's entertainment is built more on superficial energy and simplistic, mind-numbing gimmicks meant to pander to the current Twitter generation, I personally believe that this generation is, whether they are conscious of it or not, experiencing an epoch in the medium ripe with a certain idiosyncratic creativity, spirit, and voice. 

Think about it. We have males rallying together in support of My Little Pony, because of its current reincarnation. We have shows on channels, like Nickelodeon and Cartoon Network that display characters of less traditional sexual orientations. Our highest-grossing animated film is a film that many, including me, view as challenging and mildly subverting gender roles, in the area of feminine strength and dependence of males. And the latest Disney effort, which is breaking some records previously held by the "elephant in the room," has chosen to tackle the issue... of racial disparity, as well as the status and image of the police force.

What kind of world are we living in? Well, for 108 minutes, we submit to the culture of Zootopia.

This film certainly had an uphill battle to overcome, in terms of the basic, bare-bones concept of the story. An ambitious young woman (actually, any gender for this story, but in this film's case, a woman) has a big dream that she fervently and persistently pursues, despite all the odds stacked against her. She winds up there, but, welp, she's the small fry and realizes that she is at the bottom and is not treated and favored as equally as her more powerful, more experienced comrades. So, she has to prove herself and work hard to truly fulfill her dream to the highest extent. She takes on a hefty task to prove herself as worthy. Oh, and she ends up having to work with someone of a completely different visage and temperament. They butt heads, but eventually they find a common ground and a weakness in each other that they try to help strengthen. By the end, our plucky underdog has come out on top, our seemingly incongruous duo become friends, and they both are stronger, happier people by the end. Oh, and all of this takes place in a world where animals are anthropomorphized, walking, talking, and existing as humans do.

The only real unique aspect about the story itself is the fact that the young, plucky woman is a rabbit named Judy. And her polar opposite is a fox named Nick.

So yeah, such a seemingly rote conceit shouldn't have this many layers. Shouldn't it? Well, for the first half, it is very entertaining, but it is very generic, safe, and very obedient of the path it has been placed on. However, the second half, while following the path, continues by carving its own way to continue. On the surface, it works as kids, selling an ostensibly simple message of acceptance, a message Disney has sold for years. The difference this time? The subtle, transcendental commentary.

Consider this. The world of Zootopia consists of two types: the predators and the prey. They manage to exist in adequate harmony, while still having some issues (i.e. stereotyping the predators as out-of-control and savage and the prey as ineffectual). While the prey happen to be the 90% majority of the population, the creature in charge happens to be what many consider to be the predator, the minority. After the "predator" leader gets in hot water over a secret operation and is persecuted, his practically voiceless assistant, who is part of the majority, wants to make sure that the minority is scorned by the majority. And the police aren't doing much to help matters, actually encouraging Judy the rabbit to represent the majority and be their voice, in fighting against the minority, which, due to a comment she made about their biological impulses, are seen as a threat.

The aspect of the police, while might mainly be seen as minute, is actually highly vital. While no violence is shown (Disney!), I reiterate: the police are not doing anything to help the minority, or so it is perceived. This attitude has been pervasive, in the wake of events that, while have always occurred, are spiking at a frustratingly high frequency to many people, but primarily minorities, African-Americans in particular. While statistics can prove that there is an emphatic racial slant when it comes to treatment by police, many individuals, especially of the "majority" in our country, think that police are just doing their job and, to some people, their actions are justifiable. In fact, I think the inherent emphasis of the detrimental martyrdom of the police and the abuse of their authority is criticized in one simple line when Judy says, "I became a police officer to serve and protect." That one terse, simple line manages to be so heavily cloaked in trenchancy, context, pertinence, and poignancy that it almost brought me to tears.

Furthermore, they actually showcase the effects of environment and how it can cause some to succumb to the stereotypes that are manifested. Consider a scene where Nick the fox is shown as a young kid wanting to be initiated into the Jr. Ranger Scouts organization. It is shown that he is faced with financial difficulties, as his mother has to "scrape money together" to get him a uniform, only to be greeted with disdain and mockery. It states that environment doesn't define you per se, but in order to survive and to sustain oneself, some people become the stereotypes that others of that distinct type try to evade. Hell, he grows up to stereotype Judy, which shows that, while certainly in differing degrees, you can be the oppressed and the oppressor. It presents the world as diverse, but imperfect. The way to alleviate this is to collaborate, not clash. And in an era where a self-righteous, entitled, xenophobic bigot is not only heightening and reviving these damaging attitudes, but might, just might, become President, this Disney film has a dual act as a guidebook for our country.

In addition, they, too, deliver some commentary on the unfair treatment of women in the workplace, particularly on how, in reality, women are treated on a different standard as men in the police force. When Judy the rabbit first enters, she's greeted by an employee who calls her "cute," as if she's just a delicate, ineffectual child. I guess it's Disney's way of apologizing for giving little girls mixed messages for ions, but it still speaks volumes.

However, as I stated earlier, the remarkable feat is that, while all these simmering details are present, it is not only presented straightforwardly, but it never loses sight of the entertainment value, which is definitely on a high level. The animation is gorgeous to look at, with some of the most winsome character designs in the Disney catalog, a world with concurrent climates, an area located above a waterfall, which is one of the most visually breathtaking locations I have ever witnessed in a Disney film, and some rousing action scenes, including a chase that takes place on a rope bridge, which has some profound white-knuckle moments. Also, given how the film involves a major assignment on the police force, I found myself in fierce admiration of the film noir touches added in. Shady, hazy destinations, nights of perpetual rain, and moments of darkness are nuances that add to the splendor tonally and visually.

Also to be impressed by is the talent brought onto this film. Directors Byron Howard, an experienced gent in the Disney company, and Rich Moore, who has history with shows like The Simpsons and Futurama, seem to have a real alchemy with writer and co-director Jared Bush, because the humor in this film is hilarious. While not every joke hits bulls-eye, the second third, in my opinion, includes some of the most riotous, risible comedy ever seen in a Disney film, including an already-seen-but-still-hilarious gag involving sloths in the DMV and one of the best Godfather parodies in all of cinema. It's one of those things where you feel that everybody was on the same page.

Speaking of talent, Disney usually attracts the best. And this film is stuffed with fine vocal work from Jenny Slate, J.K. Simmons, Idris Elba, Maurice LaMarche, Tommy Chong, Shakira (what?), and Ginnifer Goodwin as Judy. But, by far, the biggest revelation is Jason Bateman as Nick the fox. 2013's Identity Thief received massively negative reviews from critics, many of which criticized Bateman's perpetuation of his innocuous, oblivious, straight man schtick. Apparently, he took what critics said to heart, given his first profane, sardonic punch in Bad Words, and his second wry, cunning punch in this film, where he perfectly compliments Nick's sarcastically suave dialogue and his droll grin.

Now, as much as I praise this film, it's not perfect, because for the most part, it's more entertaining than exceptional, minus the underlying messages. There is a joke here and there that falls flat and also, *sigh* the music. Not the score by Disney/kid's film composer giant Michael Giacchino, mind you. I'm referring to the main song by Shakira. Maybe it's just me, but I'm really getting sick of hearing Shakira. I mean, her music was never one of the unquestionable touchstones of popular culture, but the more she tries to adapt, the more stodgy she becomes. I know her hips don't lie, but neither do I.

Regardless, this is another step in the right direction, a film that shows that instead of trying to top or battle PIXAR, Disney's attempt at CGI films can, in their own way, sit alongside PIXAR. I mean, it's still obviously cutesy, marketable Disney, but it is still the most topical, the most culturally aware Disney has ever been. It is the closest they will come to Inside Out. While it is not as monumental, it still shows Disney maneuvering a new twist on a habitual narrative and pulling it off with flying colors. It's strange that a Disney film would have more in common with Straight Outta Compton than with something like A Bug's Life, but there it is. Disney's Zootopia bears striking parallels to Obama's America. That's some real shit, right there.

RATING: Three-and-a-half stars out of four.

Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015)

Very rarely does a lack of surprise augments your feelings during a film. Not being surprised isn’t always a negative thing, as long as what’s being provided is a consistent sense of entertainment. Critics always complain about predictability in stories, but I feel that our words become misinterpreted. It’s not the fact that we have received another remote control car, but moreso that we have received one of infirm, dilapidated, inadequate quality or exactly the same one without any alterations or anything aesthetic pleasures. Not being surprised can be forgivable and, in some cases, is used as an accomplice to a feeling of anticipation.

“In a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…” fades in with that same archaic, blue font, submerging your fellow critic in a swamp of giddiness, thinking about what is to come. And then...John William’s illustrious, grandiose theme blast, as those two words stick around long enough for us to comprehend what we are watching: Star Wars. Then, the title crawl fills us in since the previous series of events in 1983. It’s as simplistic and minimalistic in theory, but full of booming grandeur in execution, the same way it was 38 years ago, at the genesis of the cultural, science-fiction juggernaut that has been virtually unstoppable, for better or for worse. The force has awakened, and so has this franchise!

The story begins on planet Jakku. Luke Skywalker has disappeared after trying to strengthen Jedi Order, but failing due to an insubordinate student (by insubordinate, I mean he transferred to that bastard, The Dark Side). The Resistance, an organization backed by the Republic, is trying to obtain a missing piece of a map, which will disclose Luke’s locations. However, the First Order, which has replaced the Galactic Empire, seeks it to destroy Luke and the Republic. The First Order is run by Kylo Ren, whose master is Supreme Leader Snoke. However, after a raid on Jakku, a stormtrooper, FN-2187, feels discomfort working alongside the First Order. He frees Poe Dameron, a Resistance fighter pilot captured during the invasion who calls the stormtrooper, Finn, and they escape, but they crash on Jakku, ostensibly leaving Finn as the sole survivor. While wandering Jakku, he meets up with Rey and a droid, BB-8. After the First Order track them down, they escape on the Millennium Falcon and encounter two familiar guests: Han Solo and Chewbacca. The quintet band together in an intricate, moral journey to fight the First Order, as they form a new superweapon, Starkiller Base.

This film, while being probably the most successful film of the year, critically and financially, has come under fire for coming across as too derivative, a claim stated by the lucrative, money-grubbing android himself (love you, Lucas). I have read all the arguments and seen all the elements that they are referencing and I must say that I find them all meager and excessively fastidious. However, I can empathize on some level. If one is not truly allured by the characters and finds them superficial and ineffectual on their own merits, then I can understand them digging deeper and finding offensively similar parallels from the original films. And personally, when Rey was first introduced, I couldn’t buy into her either. Not because she seemed unoriginal, in the context of the Star Wars universe, but because she seemed unoriginal in the cinematic universe. Her introduction involving her trying to survive in a desolate, impoverished region, trying to barter anything she can to survive remind me too much of Katniss Everdeen. So, in some respect, I see where the detractors are coming from.

However, and usually I prefer not to do this, but I want to offer sympathy to director J.J. Abrams. I feel context is in order. Abrams has probably the loftiest obligation of the year and of his career: to respectfully, smoothly, and masterfully resume the Star Wars franchise after years of missteps and failures on other helmer’s ends. Plus, he’s coming off of directing the rebooted Star Trek franchise, which is funny, seeing how the complaints for this movie have also been said about Star Trek: Into Darkness (3.5 star movie, by the way). Usually, I can go into endless discourse about directors being in projects like this solely for monetary reasons. J.J. Abrams never struck me as that type of guy. He has so many other producing, directing, and writing credits on film and TV (for better or for worse) that he could retire tomorrow and have money left over when he dies for his estate to buy Spock’s casket from Star Trek II and shoot him off into space.

He always strikes me as a meticulous, fanboy workhorse, which brings a sense of sincerity to his direction. So, to me, I think the only other way he could have gone was to create a similar world to give the fans a sense of deja vu and the newbies a sense of awe and wonderment, so that they can each share in their personal reactions. I understand the belief that in a galaxy with a multitude of planets, there should be more diversity because it opens itself for a multitude of creative opportunities. However, I take it, kind of like America: a united area full of different places operating on different sceneries and sensibilities, but you are going to come across several that intertwine in their similarities. That’s how I take Jakku. He could’ve pulled a left-turn and birthed something more stylized and embedded in red hues or such, but that’s what would’ve been expected in these efficient, technological, “progressive” filmmaking times.

Plus, on an aesthetic level, the barren, but rich landscapes are gorgeous to look at and create an impeccable sense of atmosphere, just like the original did. However, the nostalgia sparks aren’t all ignited by intrinsically heavy, but subtly executed atmosphere. Sometimes, they arise by seeing those glorious, spacious sets, whether it is a cantina inspired by the Moe Eisley Cantina from the first film or the magnificent Millennium Falcon.

Sometimes, nostalgia rushes out through the spectacular effects, which achieve a fanciful significance, much like the original films. In a time where effects try to be grittier, uglier, more mature, and seem to not even try to hide the gaudy mechanisms at work, it is enlightening to see the effects modernized, but, to their core, still humble and mindful of their roots. The CGI-rendered creatures in the cantina or the Andy Serkis-spearheaded Supreme Leader Snoke are decently realized, but still not overly impressive. However, just seeing those green and red laser blasts conjure the esteem and elation of the original films, all in glorious 3D. On the subject, the 3D version, in my eyes, is the only version to see, providing a substantial amount of thrills, gut-churning, plunging angles, and moments to make you duck and weave in your seat, without ever being gimmicky. It truly feels like an open, steadfast invitation to join in and plant your feet in this environment. For a format of filming that has been so shaky and sporadic, it feels that this 2009-present era of 3D is the evidence that 3D is going to be around longer than most of its brief periods.

Other times, nostalgia is emitted through the characters. Some of them are serviceable, but not anything noteworthy for the Star Wars catalog, such as Poe Cameron. He’s strapping, courageous, and vital enough to be likable, but not spectacular. BB-8 is a solid stand-in for R2-D2, looking actually visually more vibrant and magnetic than R2-D2. Others are strong in some aspects, but limp in others. Kylo Ren is a great send-up to Darth Vader, in terms of that incredible mask with a metallic sheen and his true identity and its relevance to the rest of the characters is fantastically portrayed, thanks to writers Lawrence Kasdan, Michael Arndt, and yes, Abrams himself. However, I didn’t care for the actor who portrayed him: Adam Driver. To me, he was overly emo, ineffectual, and vulnerable in a calculated, histrionic, stiff form. But to see veterans like Han Solo (Harrison Ford), Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher) and even Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) used so cohesively, so effortlessly, so pertinently, and so potently in the story is simply astounding how blissfully inseparable the link between story and character is. Oh, and C-3P0 makes a cameo...if you like that sort of thing. Yes, Star Wars: The Force Awakens joins films such as Straight Outta Compton and The Peanuts Movie in the category of 2015 films that are obsessed with amalgamating both contemporary vision and nostalgic tendencies.

However, in terms of the new characters, I found the most investment in stormtrooper Finn. The idea of a character, associated with a villainous clan, abandoning that lifestyle to become genial or straightforward is nowhere near anything new. However, the fact that a stormtrooper is actually allowed to be an actual character, instead of a one-dimensional guard/walking target, is invigorating and thank God that he is portrayed by as fine an actor as John Boyega, an intriguing newcomer, who injects Finn with steely, hulking charisma, youthful determination, and firm, resilient vulnerability. I mention that Daisy Ridley’s Rey is introduced underwhelmingly and without much flair, but once she is introduced to Finn, their interplay actually strengthens her character and as she becomes one with the Force, her character gains much more fragility, weight, and dominance, as she is forced to go further within herself, thinking, reacting, and adapting, culminating as the quintessential feminist icon that Star Wars fans have waited for.

It’s not a perfect film. There is a lot of humor in the film, comprised a lot of in-jokes, one-liners, and callbacks. Most of them work, but some, even the amusing ones, still seem forced and threaten to make the film too kiddish. It can feel, at times, like a persistent nudge to the ribs, as if Abrams believed that they were mandated, in order to remind the audience that this is a modern addition to the Star Wars oeuvre, and as to not treat it too seriously, which as such, somewhat deprives it of its original dignity and integrity. This kind of odd paranoia in achieving that sweet spot makes certain bits of dialogue seem uncomfortably contrived. And as stated earlier, there are some weak spots in the characterization department, be it with the writing or acting.

Regardless, I still think this is as close to topping the original three Star Wars film as you are going to get. Nowadays, when we think of films raking in billions of dollars, we think of uber-hyped, inclusive, visually delightful, vast yet undemanding blockbusters, mostly because the novelty of achieving $1 billion is accustomed at this point. We think of movies that are entertaining, as well as wholly crowd-pleasing. However, to be the highest-grossing film, seems to suggest that a filmmaker has gone one step beyond and gave some extra oomph and passion to create something that revels in most of these adjectives, but also transcends typical parameters whilst still being accessible for the common man. With an emotionally complex, layered yet engaging story, dazzling visuals, and an absolute, compelling, full-fledged cast (minus Adam Driver and C-3PO), Star Wars goes above and beyond, whilst still conforming to, all expectations of many run-of-the-mill blockbusters, giving us an oxygen mask for use of the film industry, and, to not as strong of a degree, shares the same qualities of the two highest-grossing films of all time: Titanic and Avatar. Will it top them in box office revenues? Well, with the spirit of such loyal, ardent fans, I feel the force is strong enough to do anything.

RATING: Three-and-a-half stars out of four