“Art for Art’s Sake” is so settled into what I want from a gritty superhero show that it paradoxically doesn’t give me as much to talk about. The plotlines are converging, interacting, cracking open one another in ways I mostly expected.
Yes, finally! “Excessive Force” explodes with all the pent-up energy that this series has been waiting to use. It sets up the stakes and the dominoes so aggressively that there was never any question that Matt would become Daredevil, once again.
“With Interest” finally gives us a superhero episode. I said last review that I wanted the pot to boil over, and it basically did. Daredevil locks in, even if the mask hasn’t come on. I hadn’t expected the episode to break the seal being a very trope-heavy, classic superhero scenario, but, hey, it was a ton of fun.
“Sic Semper Systema” is a pure setup episode—and it’s the only reason it suffers. The last two episodes were a very clean arc, the White Tiger arc, and it ended brutally. But it also ended, and the fallout isn’t lingered on as much as I expected. It’s just bringing up the boil.
“The Hollow of His Hand” chronicles one of the most electric courtroom dramas I’ve seen in a long time. This may be because I only tend to watch certain genres and not typically legal thrillers, but the twists and turns, the emotional highs and lows, all contained within one episode, simply floored me.
Perhaps incorrectly, I went into the first two episodes of Daredevil: Born Again almost without any prior knowledge. I haven’t seen the original Daredevil show past the first episode or two—and that was years and years ago. I wanted to see if this new series would be understandable. That way, if you, dear reader, are also in the same camp, I can help inform, one way or the other.
The Fantastic Four: First Steps teaser is a fascinating look at the current cultural interests, and especially what Marvel has learned from its other projects. The aesthetic, from moment one, is so very distinct—and so very familiar.
Wicked (part one) is a lush, spectacular, wonderful experience of a movie. It captures the delightful energy of live theater and has so many incredible scenes. I’ve had several of its songs stuck in my head since I watched it, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Before reading this review of Dune: Part Two, I urge you to look at my previous one. It simply saves us some time. The issues of Dune: Part One carry over—as does much of the praise. As is ideal for the second part of a two-parter, this feels like the natural continuation. The long play simply had an intermission. Dune: Part Two assumes you recently watched the previous film and explains little to nothing.
Dune: Part 1 is a long movie covering only part of an even longer book, with a ton of history behind it, and I am writing this without having read the book. In 2025. And, frankly, there’s so much baggage here that I am not equipped to talk about. You can tell it’s not a story written in the modern day.
Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget is inescapably a nostalgia grab of a movie, relying on people like me and our fond memories of the original film. If it weren’t for that history, I’m not sure it would’ve been that big of a deal for there to be a new kid’s movie about chickens attempting to escape being eaten.
Let’s make something clear about my reviewing Transformers One: I have no horses in this race. Transformers is not my fandom. I have no notable history with it. I am aware of it through other people talking about it, but that’s about it. So, I can speak on it without nostalgia, without a sense of fan betrayal for whatever aspect they changed. I am not objective—this is a critical media review—but I’m judging it as a standalone movie.
