Kraven the Hunter, 2024.

Directed by J.C. Chandor.
Starring Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Ariana DeBose, Fred Hechinger, Russell Crowe, Alessandro Nivola, Christopher Abbott, Levi Miller, Billy Barratt, Diaana Babnicova, Chi Lewis-Parry, Michael Shaeffer, Dritan Kastrati, and Murat Seven.

SYNOPSIS:

Kraven’s complex relationship with his ruthless father, Nikolai Kravinoff, starts him down a path of vengeance with brutal consequences, motivating him to become not only the greatest hunter in the world, but also one of its most feared.

At one point during Kraven the Hunter (coming from A Most Violent Year‘s J.C. Chandor of all filmmakers), one of the several villains (I won’t specify which) delivers a hilariously eccentric line reading of “Get to the part where I should give a shit,” which sums the experience up. It’s hard to be convinced that Sony is instructing these filmmakers to try capturing something that resembles competent storytelling, compelling conflict, and human-sounding dialogue. However, chasing insanity isn’t necessarily working for Sony’s Spider-Man Universe (now seemingly dead, and going out with a whimper here); these films don’t make an impression beyond stunning stupidity, intentional or not.

That line especially sticks out since, for a film with magical potions (from underdeveloped minority characters serving the arc of a white hero nonetheless), a comically over-the-top punishing father played by Russell Crowe putting on a Russian accent and dialect that makes him come across like a Simpsons “in Russia, car drives you!” meme come to life, a human who has undergone a procedure for hardened rhinoceros skin rendering him impervious to bullets, and a time-stopping gifted assassin, Kraven the Hunter is an interminable slog that no amount of gratuitously entertaining R-rated violence can elevate.

It begins in medias res with a prison break-in and subsequent hit, presumably because the filmmakers (the script comes from Richard Wenk, Art Marcum, and Matt Holloway) know that the childhood origin story to the actual origin story unfolding is also quite boring, filled with setup for a plot containing an excessive amount of characters, most of them villains, working across elaborate schemes and betrayals that don’t register, mainly because it’s unclear what anyone actually wants, other than vague gestures of power and control over mysterious businesses. Yes, I could go to Wikipedia and research more about the Kraven bloodline and family business since the movie isn’t concerned with making it clear what any of these people are running, doing, and what they want, but why the hell should I do the work for the filmmakers?

What can be gathered is that Sergei Kravinoff’s (Levi Miller as a teenager, Aaron Taylor-Johnson as the adult antihero alter ego Kraven) hunting-obsessed father Nikolai (Russell Crowe) is heartless, asserting that he and his half-brother Dmitri’s (Billy Barratt as a young child, Fred Hechinger in the present day) mom took her life because she was mentally ill; it had nothing to do with him being a ruthless monster. Nikolai doesn’t want his boys to grow up weak or let America make them soft, so he instills hunting into them, proclaiming that one becomes a legend from killing notable beasts. Dmitri doesn’t exactly approve of this, but he is a pushover with loyalty to his father, even if he struggles to live up to such vile masculinity. Meanwhile, Sergei questions the fairness of using firearms while expressing an objection to the poaching period.

This probably makes Kraven the Hunter sound on the right track to tensely exploring toxic family dynamics and perhaps the general consequences of hunting animals for sport. Still, it’s also shockingly quick to do away with those themes in favor of several other subplots overstuffed with ability-enhanced characters. One doesn’t expect realism in a story about a boy mauled by a lion who is then discovered and given a magic potion by Ariana DeBose’s mystical Calypso, which not only miraculously heals his inner wounds but gives him animalistic traits, including the ability to catlike scale walls as if it’s all a parkour performance, but it’s reasonable to expect something to engage with and care about among the absurdity.

From there, Sergei runs away from home and apparently becomes Kraven over the years, protecting a personal piece of land shared with his beloved mother and murdering any poachers who stumble into the area. Meanwhile, Calypso has become a lawyer by day, with Kraven reuniting with her and looking to strike up a beneficial partnership; she provides him the locations of targets the law struggles to punish, and he kills them. That is also not a flawed premise, but again, so many generically motivated villains and ridiculous plot swerves come into play that it’s as if Sony or the filmmakers knew they were only going to get to make one of these, so they decided to cram three movies into one.

Although the film constantly throws Kraven from location to location with all the grace of whiplash or a video game abruptly jumping to the next level with only a 30-second cut scene in between, there is a healthy amount of bloody violence here. Such action sequences are poorly edited together with a distractingly high amount of cuts and typically never feel like they have gotten underway before they are over, but at the very least, the filmmakers understand this should be a graphic affair that doesn’t hold back on colorful stabbings. Similarly, the animal CGI leaves much to be desired (one wonders if Disney chose to release Mufasa a week after this under the impression that the quality can only go up from here), often leaving Aaron Taylor-Johnson looking ridiculous, such as an interaction showing that he can wrestle a lion to the ground, demonstrating a playful bond.

The issue is that the above craziness is stuck inside exhaustively formulaic plotting. Aaron Taylor-Johnson is not only a dud in the lead role but also has a good chunk of screen time taken away from competing villains that range from his aforementioned father, Alessandro Nivola’s Rhino, and Christopher Abbott’s time-bending hitman The Foreigner, all of whom are incomplete characters. Nothing is interesting to note about them other than that their allegiances consistently shift, spinning the wheels of incomprehensible storytelling aside from being able to tell who viewers should be rooting for. Viewers should also crave more from Kraven the Hunter. Hunt for better movies.

Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★

Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com



The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim, 2024.

Directed by Kenji Kamiyama.
Featuring the voice talents of Brian Cox, Gaia Wise, Luke Pasqualino, Miranda Otto, Christopher Lee, Lorraine Ashbourne, Yazdan Qafouri, Benjamin Wainwright, Laurence Ubong Williams, Shaun Dooley, Jude Akuwudike, Michael Wildman, Bilal Hasna, and Janine Duvitski.

SYNOPSIS:

A sudden attack by Wulf, a clever and ruthless Dunlending lord seeking vengeance for the death of his father, forces Helm Hammerhand, the King of Rohan, and his people to make a daring last stand in the ancient stronghold of the Hornburg.

Despite the enticing novelty of strikingly colorful hand-drawn animation coming across as a blend between Western high fantasy and Japanese anime, director Kenji Kamiyama’s (working from a bloated yet lacking screenplay from the crowded team of Jeffrey Addiss, Will Matthews, Phoebe Gittins, and Arty Papageorgiou, with some of the characters here created by none other than J.R.R. Tolkien) The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim is disappointingly clichéd, dull, and bland.

The narrative doesn’t necessarily feel specific to The Lord of the Rings (even if there are some tie-ins, such as orcs looting rings or late, brief appearances from significant characters of the franchise), but more so a tale of war and feminism empowerment that could have been from a separate universe if not for a couple of familiar characters and locales present here. It’s one of those situations where, if one changes around a small number of names, locations, and lore, what’s left is blueprint generic fantasy.

The screenplay is so concerned with action and the ensuing war (which isn’t necessarily inherently a bad thing) that the depth it gives to lead heroine Hera (voiced by Gaia Wise), daughter of Rohan king Helm Hammerhand (a name fans will instantly register, lent the distinct voice of Brian Cox), is that she is wild and rebellious while having an almost-telepathic connection to animals, whether it be her trusty horse or birds she helps in her free time. Once that five minutes of introductory exposition is out of the way, the political intrigue and backstabbing begin, with Helm betrayed by the Dunderlings.

After disagreements about alliances and how to handle an impending “long winter,” giving the feeling that the filmmakers are also going for a Game of Thrones feel, their leader challenges Helm to one-on-one combat, where he dies from one punch. This leaves his son, Wulf (voiced by Luke Pasqualino), a childhood friend of Hera, so enraged that the only thing on his mind is conquest and murder, to such a degree that the childhood friendship is never explored again. Meanwhile, Hera, who doesn’t consider herself a leader, wants to actively participate in defending her land but is quickly shut down by her father, who insists that she is to be protected whether she wants to be or not (which is uncomfortable and socially relevant rhetorical.)

As Wulf continues to start skirmishes and pick off Hera’s siblings (her cousin is also sent away for behaving in a manner Helm disapproves of), the conflict between daughter and father grows until the predictably inevitable occurs. He realizes the error of his ways and encourages her to be the warrior she has always meant to be, even if she is still uncertain about leaving the entire army and Shield Maidens (women who once protected this land when there were no more men soldiers left to do so.) The conversations between Hera and the latter are some of the most interesting segments, preparing the former to step into a larger role.

This is boilerplate material that the filmmakers hope to distract from with near-nonstop action. The problem is that most of those battle sequences are weightless since the characters are still thinly written (which is majorly frustrating, considering we know how compelling and emotionally absorbing stories within this franchise can be.) Even the animation, which is nice to look at, occasionally feels off and sluggish in motion. Unsurprisingly, the story doesn’t become engaging until Hera’s born leadership qualities, bravery, and physicality are put front and center, but that’s also after 90+ minutes of routine fantasy storytelling. The music (courtesy of Stephen Gallagher) is also flat, save for whenever the film pulls out a legacy piece from Howard Shore (and some beautiful ending credits songs.)

Apparently, The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim was fast-tracked into production so New Line could hold onto cinematic rights for novel adaptations. The result fits with that information, as much of what’s here feels hastily written and constructed without giving that narrative a second. It ends with a similar narration, mentioning that Hera is still wild and free as she starts on a solo adventure. One presumes a movie exclusively about her, separated from so much other political baggage and family drama, would have provided more refreshingly tantalizing opportunities, yielding something richer and more exhilarating.

Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★

Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=embed/playlist

In 2024, do I even need to explain what The Lord of the Rings (henceforth LotR) is? J.R.R. Tolkien‘s deeply iconic and highly influential masterpiece is widely considered among the all-time greatest works of fantasy. And even if you haven’t read the books, there’s a pretty good chance you’ve seen Peter Jackson‘s beloved film adaptations from 2001–2003, or at the very least seen any number of the almost cartoonishly long list of memes it’s spawned. Indeed, the world of these books has been retold and added to with varying levels of success time and time again in the seventy years since The Fellowship of the Ring was first published. And the latest such addition to this club is the franchise‘s first anime (but not first animated) movie, The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim (henceforth WotR).

Admittedly, there’s not a lot tying WotR to the rest of LotR. One could go into this movie with little or no LotR knowledge at all and be just fine—you’d miss a few winks and nods to LotR, but nothing so huge that you couldn’t understand and appreciate what was going on. They both take place in the same universe, and LotR fans will hear a few familiar names throughout the movie (and get a special cameo at the end), but WotR takes place roughly ~200 years before Frodo ever set his bare feet outside The Shire. Furthermore, WotR is centered on humans first and foremost—in fact, there are barely any non-human characters in the movie at all. Its primary connection and contribution to the world Tolkien built is a specific history on why Helm’s Deep is called, well, Helm’s Deep; a question that, admittedly, I don’t think many (if any at all) LotR fans were actively curious to learn more about, but at the same time, thorough worldbuilding has always been a hallmark of Tolkien, so I don’t necessarily mind that.

If there is anything I mind in this movie, it would probably (and surprisingly) be the animation, which is so gorgeous at times. But then, at others, the mouth flap movements are just off enough that they become noticeable, and when you notice it even once, you can’t really unnotice it. At other moments, too, it’s really apparent that the backgrounds and the people or horses aren’t exactly on the same plane, if that makes sense—the people and horses look very obviously overlaid on the backgrounds, which, stylistically and visually, don’t quite match. Finally, the animation gets a bit rough when something particularly dynamic or high-movement is going on (which, to be clear, is often—there’s a lot of fighting, horse riding, and so on). Director Kenji Kamiyama is no stranger to anime or fast-paced action, so I was shocked that this animation often fell as short of the mark as it does.

Meanwhile, this movie’s greatest strength is one of its main characters: none other than the force of nature that is Helm Hammerhand, who’s brought to life by the legendary Brian Cox—whom ANN recently got to interview, alongside Gaia Wise. He’s exactly the kind of bombastic powerhouse that you love to run into in anime, and Cox—still relatively fresh off the heels of playing screamy-old-man Logan Roy in Succession—can (predictably) match that energy perfectly. As for everyone else, it’s hard to shine your brightest when you have to share a stage with a character who exudes as much hot-bloodedness and charisma as Helm Hammerhand. Not even the other central protagonist of the film, Héra (voiced by Gaia Wise), can quite measure up. Still, both she and Wulf are compelling enough characters—neither commanding the spotlight in the same way that Helm so often does, but also never fully allowing themselves to be swallowed up by Helm’s gravitational pull.

And falling somewhere in the middle is this movie’s story, which feels like a pretty standard-issue revenge affair. Fundamentally, it’s nothing you haven’t already seen played out a million times before—you just haven’t seen it with Helm Hammerhand. But even so, WotR doesn’t exactly reinvent the wheel. It’s a story that opts to do what it’s doing well rather than to do it in a unique way, which is fine; it just makes it err on the side of forgettability.

WotR probably won’t become a must-watch addition to your LotR marathon any time soon, but it’s still an enjoyable—if a bit underwhelming—adventure movie. Comparing it to other pieces of LotR media feels somewhat like a pitfall, because few franchises simultaneously have as monumental highs and astronomical lows as LotR does. Falling somewhere in the middle of this feels almost inevitable, but “somewhere in the middle” could mean anything when the distance between LotR‘s peaks and valleys is so vast. But at the same time, the fact remains that it is a piece of LotR media—one that pales in comparison to the best entries but is still far from the worst we’ve seen from Tolkien’s world. And even as a standalone piece, it’s a solid adventure movie, but lacks a certain wow-factor—a wow-factor, one can’t help but feel reminded, that’s often present in LotR‘s better entries.