James Gunn isn’t exactly crushing it.

Named co-chairman and chief executive officer of the newly formed DC Studios in 2022, the “Guardians of the Galaxy” filmmaker wrote and directed the division of Warner Bros. Discovery’s largely disappointing “Superman,” released last year.

This week, DC Studios’ second big-screen affair, “Supergirl,” lands in theaters with similarly underwhelming results.

‘Superman’ review: James Gunn gets DCU off to rocky, overstuffed start

Starring Milly Alcock as the movie’s namesake Kryptonian heroine — who also goes by Kara Zor-El and is the cousin of David Corenswet’s Superman/Clark Kent/Kal-El — “Supergirl” isn’t distractingly zany the way its 2025 sister film was. Instead, it’s tonally boring, a chore of a movie chock full of thinly drawn characters and increasingly bombastic and violent.

To be clear, Gunn isn’t at the helm for “Supergirl.” Instead, it’s the typically dependable Craig Gillespie (“I, Tonya,” “Cruella”), working from a script by Ana Nogueira, making her less-than-impressive feature-writing debut.

This planet-hopping adventure in the new DC Universe isn’t a complete space wreck, however, thanks largely to the spunky performance by Aussie Alcock, best known for portraying the younger Rhaenyra Targaryen in the early episodes of HBO’s “House of the Dragon.”

When we catch up with Kara, she’s basically as we left her late in “Superman”: a super-sized mess. She’s out with her beloved, rambunctious dog, Krypto — the peppy and powerful pup having already been a major player in “Superman” — and enjoying a 23rd-birthday pub crawl among planets under a red sun. (Quick reminder: Supergirl, like Superman, draws her incredible powers from a yellow sun, like Earth’s, so she’s at least vaguely normal under a red sun and, importantly, can become intoxicated. The color of suns is a major factor throughout “Supergirl,” and it’s the movie’s most inventive narrative element.)

It is on such a world where a drunken Kara encounters 13-year-old Ruthye Marye Knoll of the Danastia Clan (Eve Ridley), whose family has just been brutally slain by the ruthless Krem of the Yellow Hills (Matthias Schoenaerts). Understandably, Ruthye wants revenge against Krem — leader of the Brigants, a band of male pirates and traffickers — and can think of little else.

She’s offering anyone who will help a sword made by her family of skilled weapons makers. The beyond-buzzed Kara isn’t interested, but she gets involved when a scumbag type tries to take the sword. She continues to do her best to fend off Ruthye’s subsequent pleas for assistance in her quest to kill Krem, but when the baddie — in the process of stealing her floating RV of a spaceship — shoots a charging Krypto with a poison dart, Kara has designs on punishing him, too. In fact, she needs to retrieve the specific antidote Krem carries with him to save her four-legged bud.

And so the gals are off to other worlds, initially traveling via the space equivalent of a beat-up Greyhound bus, on which they run into a trio of pillaging Sklarian Raiders. The sequence in which Kara retrieves stolen possessions and extracts information from them is as zany as “Supergirl” gets.

In the Hand of Dante, 2025.

Directed by Julian Schnabel.
Starring Oscar Isaac, Gal Gadot, Gerard Butler, John Malkovich, Louis Cancelmi, Sabrina Impacciatore, Benjamin Clementine, Martin Scorsese, Al Pacino, Franco Nero, Jason Momoa.

SYNOPSIS:

A handwritten manuscript of Dante Alighieri’s poem “The Divine Comedy” makes its way from a priest to a mob boss in New York City, where it is taken by Nick Tosches after he’s asked to verify its authenticity.

Outrageously ambitious with an absurd narrative that veers between slick scuzzy fun and philosophically snoozy, the key issue with co-writer/director Julian Schnabel’s excessively long In the Hand of Dante is that it’s more engaging as a dopey early 2000s crime thriller about mobsters employing the services of novelist Nick Tosches (also the writer of the novel the film is based on, inserting himself into it as a fictional character, here played by Oscar Isaac in the adaptation by Schnabel and Louise Kugelberg) and Dante Alighieri specialist to steal the recently unearthed original manuscript of his 14th-century masterwork The Divine Comedy from Italian priests than it does as its other side to that coin, a flashback story about the creation of that story complete with actors portraying secondary characters to eventually get at some points about reincarnation.

This means that the film mostly begins with Oscar Isaac entangled in a web of crime alongside slur-slinging, trigger-finger-happy Louie (in what might be the best performance of Gerard Butler’s career, despite the steep drop in quality in the second half), John Malkovich as a mob boss seeing nothing but dollar signs if they can get a hold of the original manuscript, authenticate it, and sell it on the black market, and even Al Pacino popping up for a scene and stealing it set during Nick’s childhood following a violent incident that is so bonkers readers might not believe it even if I typed it out here, to something close enough to a mess culminating in a confrontation between the excellent Oscar Isaac and the shudderingly bad Gal Gadot and Jason Momoa in important roles, the former a lover placed in danger to the mob by her proximity to Nick, and the latter a greedy killer in a relationship with literary historian Dr. Susanna Pulice (Sabrina Impacciatore).

Martin Scorsese also appears in the 14th-century section (for someone who loves to assert what real cinema is vs cinematic theme park rides, he has now appeared in 3 mediocre-to-terrible movies this year), offering sage-like advice to Dante (also Oscar Isaac) in a hilariously over-the-top beard piece. Much of this is a mental journey, but also has something to do with Pope Boniface VIII (also Gerard Butler) placing the Mark of Cain on Dante following a falling out, the writer’s inability to find inspiration in his current lover Gemma Donati (also Gal Gadot) compared to his first love Beatrice, executed in stark contrast from the much more accessible and palatable modern day crime story. A blunter way to put it is that any time the film shifts to these flashbacks, it’s quite boring and never finds a sense of rhythm, drive, or purpose.

Unquestionably, some of this is by design and baked into other elements of the presentation, which includes flashbacks only receiving color as a means of implying that they were more enriching days for artistic freedom and integrity, compared to the black-and-white 2000s material that further homes in on greed and only financial gain for a manuscript no one even knows how to price if it turns out to be authenticated. Expanding on that thought, there are certainly no qualms to be had with the striking cinematography from Roman Vasyanov.

The other encroaching thought here is that, for as carefully considered as the film looks and as captivating as about half the performances are (we truly do not need to talk anymore about Gal Gadot and Jason Momoa, neither of whom can deliver convincing accents without eliciting laughs), it’s not going anywhere interesting, especially once the mobsters exit the narrative. Technically, they are replaced by a hitman, although a lengthy amount of time is spent watching Nick fly around the world for different aspects of the identification process, sometimes involving technology that even he doesn’t understand and tunes out of. In the novel, there appears to be a greater emphasis on Nick’s inner thoughts about the current state of the art world and on finding flaws in classic works or restrictive prose, which is alluded to here but not interrogated enough to emerge as a compelling element. It’s enough to make one wonder what else was lost in translation from the book.

The filmmakers seem to think the romantic subplot will sustain intrigue for the second half, but it’s devoid of emotion and comes across as aimless in the 14th-century portion. At a certain point, one simply longs for a more focused movie about mobsters stealing recently discovered historic manuscripts for profit; it’s far more fun and amusing than the rest of the sluggish, artfully tedious In the Hand of Dante. No one here seems to realize that this should be a comedic crime caper, and it works that way until it takes itself far too seriously, with flashbacks that bore rather than provide insight or meaningful context.

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

Robert Kojder

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

Film Reviews

Soy Frankelda
Director: Arturo Ambriz, Roy Ambriz
Cinema Fantasma, Netflix
Streaming on Netflix: 06.12.2026

People have given their diatribes and waxed poetic about the dread of AI in creative fields. The ever-increasing push to implement it into our lives is disheartening to say the least, but even more so, it kills a piece of our soul by encouraging us to replace imagination and artistry with prompts.Why go through all the time and effort of bringing your vision to life when a program can do it in less than a fraction of a second? It disconnects us from the aspects that enrich our inner worlds. Still, people are fighting back by showcasing their creativity. Soy Frankelda is one such ode to human capability and imagination. 

The film takes place between our world in 1866 Montevideo, México, and the parallel dream world of Topus Terrenus, where fantastical creatures reside and feed upon our fears. Francisca Imelda, aka Frankelda (Mireya Mendoza), is an aspiring horror writer. Unbeknownst to her, her writing exists and affects Topus Terrenus. However, the parallel dimension is deteriorating due to a lack of fear in the human world. Enamoured by her writing, Prince Herneval (Arturo Mercado Jr.) invites Frankelda to his world in the hopes that she can become the new nightmare-teller and reinvigorate fear in humans through hert stories. This does not go well with the current nightmare-teller, Procustes (Luis Leonardo Suarez), who plots to overthrow the royal family and establish himself as the new ruler of Topus Terrenus by stealing Frankelda’s work and passing it off as his own. What ensues is a dazzling musical journey of stop -motion charm and spooks.

To be honest, I am very biased when it comes to talking about this movie. Animation, to me, has always been one of the most versatile and passion-driven mediums for storytelling, so of course I hold it in such high regard. However, Mexican animation has never truly taken the main stage. Sure, there are American-based animated projects that center Mexican narratives like Coco and The Book of Life, but it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that Mexico’s animation industry has been precariously held up by the Huevos franchise and the Leyendas series. While both these series have their merits (I love to rewatch many of the Leyenda movies around Halloween), neither captures a sense of grandeur or is as engaging as Soy Frankelda. Furthermore, I can’t help but feel a sense of pride in knowing that this is the very first stop -motion project produced entirely in Mexico. 

To say Soy Frankelda is a work of art would be an understatement. The character models are incredibly detailed and unique, and the settings which they inhabit are ornate and depict a grand sense of scale. The film also isn’t afraid to dip into mixed media. In moments where the characters’ emotions are heightened, other mediums like oil painting or charcoal are used. The film is also acutely aware of its limitations and finds creative workarounds. These little decisions give the film a sense of earnestness and not only bring liveliness to the world, but also tangibility. Guillermo Del Toro was the directors’ mentor during the production of this film and his fingerprints can be seen throughout. The level of craftsmanship is akin to the work he does with all his creature designs. Still, it’s obvious that the stop -motion in this film hasn’t reached the same level of smoothness as a Laika production, but the roughness and jerkiness of the movements remind you that human hands worked on it and there is a charm to that.  

The film’s worldbuilding is also noteworthy, blending fantastical and macabre elements to create a landscape that is equal parts whimsical and spooky. It feels like a true successor to the art style of The Nightmare Before Christmas, just with more color and a variety of textures. The lore is also presented intentionally and connects to the theme of fiction being as real as reality. It all hinges on the sentiment that our ideas have life and that as long as we keep creating, the world will continue to be filled with inspiration and therefore beget more creation. Soy Frankelda encourages the act of creating, the idea that we live to create and to create is to live. 

While I have a deep appreciation for this film, it is far from perfect. Namely, the narrative is lacking at some points, especially when it comes to the interpersonal conflict at the climax of the story hinged on a miscommunication. It’s disappointing, to say the least, that a story with this much thought and effort in the presentation of the film would falter when it comes to the script. This also bleeds into the film feeling rather melodramatic at some points. I liken it to watching an animated fantasy telenovela. Frankelda’s extreme emotional shifts are testament to that. Also, while the story does conclude, it still feels unfinished by the end. Obviously this is because Soy Frankelda is actually a prequel movie to Frankelda’s Book of Spooks, an animated anthology series that explores Frankelda’s stories. Nevertheless, the movie still leaves you wanting more. 

Soy Frankelda is a landmark film for Mexican animation. In a time when pillars of the industry are encouraging the use of generative AI, it is refreshing to see a film that so succinctly makes a case for human originality and celebrates the art of creating one’s own stories and worlds. —Angela Garcia

 Read more film reviews from Angela Garcia below:
Film Review: I Love Boosters
Film Review: You, Me & Tuscany

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