Heartland Film Festival 2024 Screening #2: “Micro Budget”

Four young actors looking really helpless

Imagine if Don’t Look Up were made with nearly no money and its only agenda were “make ALL the money!” Now imagine the behind-the-scenes featurettes about that.

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:

It’s that time again! Since 1992 my hometown of Indianapolis has presented the Heartland International Film Festival, a multi-day, multi-theater celebration of cinema held every October. Local moviegoers have the opportunity see over a hundred new works in the realms of documentaries, narrative features, shorts, and animation made across multiple continents from myriad points of the human experience. Some participants stop in Indy on their grand tour of Hollywood’s festival circuit; some are local productions on shoestring budgets; and a wide spectrum of claims are staked in the innumerable niches between, projects with well-known actors screening alongside indies with enormous hearts.

Heartland’s 33rd edition runs October 10-20, for which I’ve made plans to catch at least eight films in all (Lord willing). Longtime MCC readers know the rule: every film I see in theaters gets its own entry…

Next up on our to-do list is Micro Budget, an uproarious film-about-filmmaking, which of course means it’s legally guaranteed a Best Picture nomination. The uproarious satire’s skewering of indie movie production might seem offensive to other Heartland participants if they, like its witless fictional auteur, lacked any measurable integrity, artistry, or intent to at least watch a few “How to Make a Movie” YouTube tutorials, let alone see some actual movies while they’re at it.

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Heartland Film Festival 2024 Screening #1: “ReEntry”

Tentative movie poster for "ReEntry with Emily Deschanel and Sam Trammell in profile separated by a science fiction suit in an arched doorway.

Yes, our first film up is sci-fi. I gotta be me. But not all of them will be!

It’s that time again! Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: since 1992 my hometown of Indianapolis has presented the Heartland International Film Festival, a multi-day, multi-theater celebration of cinema held every October. Local moviegoers have the opportunity see over a hundred new works in the realms of documentaries, narrative features, shorts, and animation made across multiple continents from myriad points of the human experience. Some participants stop in Indy on their grand tour of Hollywood’s festival circuit; some are local productions on shoestring budgets; and a wide spectrum of claims are staked in the innumerable niches between, projects with well-known actors screening alongside indies with enormous hearts.

After a few brief dalliances with the festival in the past, last year I dove in a bit deeper and caught six movies in all. The fates of those films have varied in the months since — The Promised Land went on to make the Oscar shortlist for Best International Feature; Fancy Dance is now on Apple+ and remains a must-see for fans of Reservation Dogs or Dark Winds; the even tinier Avenue of the Giants has yet to find a distributor and was still assiduously touring as of this past spring; and so on. I appreciated the chance to see new features before they’re released to the world-at-large, and without waiting for pro critics to weigh in first.

Heartland’s 33rd edition runs October 10-20, for which I’ve made plans to catch at least eight films in all (Lord willing). Longtime MCC readers know the rule: every film I see in theaters gets its own entry. We kick things off with one of this year’s science fiction contestants, which held its official World Premiere right here at Heartland: a small-scale science fiction drama called ReEntry.

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Best CDs of 2023 According to an Old Guy Who Bought 7

The covers of all seven albums reviewed in this entry, laid out on my kitchen table.

Alphabetically arranged by artist, the nominees were…

Hi, I’m Fat Casey Kasem and welcome to another Top Less-Than-Ten list! And no, that isn’t a coaster that got sorted into the middle row by accident.

As part of my annual series of year-in-review entries, some of which I procrastinate much longer than others, I remain one of six people nationwide who still prefers compact discs to digital downloads. My hangups about vinyl would require a separate essay unto themselves. My new-album splurges are rare because: (a) it’s increasingly tougher for new music to catch my ear as I grow older and more finicky; and (b) my favorite yesteryear acts died, stopped recording, or swiveled in directions away from me. That usually means missing out on what majorities loves, thus further dropping me down the bottomless wishing well into total irrelevance as chronicled on this very website a couple times per week.

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“Beetlejuice Beetlejuice”: The Curse of Repetition

Shadowy Beetlejuice's face mugs directly into the camera, bathed in bluish-green light.

Who’s gonna believe the star of such dramas as Dopesick and Clean and Sober could possibly headline a comedy?

Seems only fair if the Ghostbusters can stage a comeback tour decades past their prime, so can one of the biggest ghosts they never caught, right?

I was 15 when a young Tim Burton followed up his feature debut, the wacky and eminently quotable Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure (in theaters when he was only 27!), with the even wackier and definitely more expensive Beetlejuice. The first few times I saw it, his hyperactive imagination, his fanciful take on afterlife bureaucracy, his mixed-media creations, and the ensemble’s zest were a welcome escape from reality into fun-house tomfoolery. But the more times I watched it, the more I noticed cracks in the seams and nitpicking got easier. Apart from a few low-key exceptions over the next few decades (Big Eyes, Big Fish) I’d come to accept Burton generally has little vested interest in narrative coherence. Many of his works are thin clotheslines from which he hangs edgy gags, fantastical monstrosities, and non sequitur set-pieces that were fun to draw in his concept sketchbooks and entertain best if you don’t pay close attention to what’s happening. They’re popcorn flicks for us art-class loners.

Now Burton is 66, our ghost-with-the-most Michael Keaton is a 73-year-old Emmy Award Winner, and I’m a middle-aged married loner, but 36 years later, here we all go again with Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. The old pals and two-time Bat-collaborators have locked elbows for a new nostalgia-fest with much of the same gags, same lines, same makeup ‘n’ wardrobe, same nearly everything.

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“Alien: Romulus”: When the Perfect Killing Machine Stops Evolving

Red-and-black poster with a xenomorph face-hugger attached to a buzz-cut Asian actress.

In space, no one complains about eating the same meal rations again and again and again.

I can’t speak for fans of Ghostbusters or of Harry Potter post-Deathly Hallows, but whenever I get attached to an IP, I’m excited whenever that universe shows signs of forward motion or at least simulating it. Granted, when it comes to the Alien movies, my opinions are already warped — James Cameron’s Aliens is one of my Top 5 films ever, which I saw years before I got around to Ridley Scott’s original. I also respected Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s engagingly bonkers Alien Resurrection for pushing the series’ boundaries and actually getting somewhere — anywhere — after edgy pre-auteur David Fincher’s Alien³ ramrodded Ellen Ripley’s story into a literal dead end.

All Alien works since then have treated Resurrection as The End, and/or as a disowned mistake. Directors — not to mention writers of its various transmedia spinoffs — limit themselves to rooting around the limited preceding timeline for unoccupied dance floors where they can twirl in place and try out their freshest moves, never quite distracting from how the club has had the same dusty disco strobe and jukebox since 1997. Double-dates with Predators were one-night stands that no one could maintain eye contact with. When Scott himself barged back in indignantly all, “SEE HERE NOW!” we knew he could make spaceships shinier and creatures slimier, but Prometheus gave us a half-unwritten origin and Alien: Covenant was a cram session to finish the same assignment in as few pages as possible.

27 years later the franchise continues moving nowhere at sub-FTL velocity with Alien: Romulus, a pre-sequel brazenly set between Alien and Aliens in hopes of blending in, in more ways than one. I’ve seen no previous works by Fede Álvarez or his co-writer Rodo Sayagues (though Don’t Breathe is on my extremely long mental to-do list), so I came into this with few preconceptions except a faint awareness that gore is his medium. I saw the first trailer at C2E2 with an exclusive Álvarez intro, which was promising, but the second gave away way too much. I offered benefit of the doubt for as long as I could.

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Yes, There’s a Scene After the “Deadpool & Wolverine” End Credits

Deadpool and Wolverine tied up together in a wasteland.

Now your two favorite Canadian antiheroes come bundled, like cable! (Not to be confused with Cable, not included.)

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: I’m the hypothetical boogey-moviegoer who lurked in the MPA’s hivemind imagination when they invented the PG-13 label! This prudish geek is back for another round of simultaneous enjoyment and irritation flared up from the inner turmoil between my oft-undiscerning appetite for comics-based movies that aim to deliver Something Different, versus my general disdain for F-bombs (with extremely few exceptions) and sex jokes (more adamantly unilaterally). I realize I’m outnumbered millions-to-one among geekdom-at-large, but I find ways to cope, such as typing into the void upon my tiny, mostly nonpaying hobby-job site.

I skipped the first Deadpool in theaters and instead watched it on a Black Friday Blu-ray with variant Christmas cover, where a smaller medium helped minimize its gratuitous indulgences. All the other parts of Tim Miller’s directorial debut were amazing, though, so I upgraded Deadpool 2 to a theatrical outing. The first one was better, but David Leitch delivered far more satisfying renditions of Colossus and Juggernaut than their half-baked mainline forms. I appreciated both films offering pleasures beyond the guilty kind, sometimes to an intentionally daffy extreme, which is not something that automatically bugs me. All told, the Merc with a Mouth’s two misadventures as a headliner were better than most X-films and, fun trivia, outgrossed them all.

Hence more of the same, but no longer confined to a licensed offshoot series that doesn’t “count”. One corporate merger and a few non-superhero films later, Ryan Reynolds and his entourage of masked stunt doubles are back! And this time, it’s more all the way! More fanboy pandering! More fourth-wall breakage! More pop culture references! More overplayed Top-40 oldies from across the decades! More F-bombs! More sex jokes, obsessively specializing in gay-panicky snark! But the more, more, MORE begins with its very title: Marvel Cinematic Universe After Dark! Wait, no, I mean Deadpool & Wolverine!

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Yes, There’s a Scene During the “Twisters” End Credits

Twisters movie poster shows release date of July 19th above the two leads standing on a red ruck and looking at an imminently stormy sky.

So, how about that Singin’ in the Rain reboot?

If you think my usual movie entries suffer from subjectivity, don’t expect an exception here. The original Twister holds a special li’l place in my heart for a variety of reasons. Its director Jan de Bont, fresh off the Speed race, was also the cinematographer on my all-time favorite movie. My mom was (and is) a big fan of disaster films, which had a sort of Golden Age in my childhood, from the natural terrors of Earthquake to the man-made systemic failures of The Towering Inferno, The Poseidon Adventure, Airport, and more. Along a more sensitive vein: in the darkest month of my life, pop culture manifested two welcome distractions to take my mind off my anguish when I needed that most: Rhino Home Video’s very first wave of Mystery Science Theater 3000 episodes on VHS, and Twister hitting theaters. Setting my baggage aside, their timing was perfect, as the latter would make a great episode of the former.

Fast-forward 28 years and here we go again with Twisters! They’re back, and this time, they’re even windier. My stress levels aren’t as off-the-charts as they were in ’96 (well, as of this minute), but looking around me, I can’t say the same for the rest of the country, if not the world. Leave it to Lee Isaac Chung, director of the 2021 Best Picture nominee Minari and that season-3 hour-long episode of The Mandalorian that focused on reformed Imperial aide Dr. Pershing, to bravely decide it’s time again for humankind to pull together for a shared experience that’s not great, not terrible, just unapologetically crowd-pleasing and thrilling and extremely loud and filled with scenes of unironic smiling…well, when Mother Nature isn’t trying to murder everyone.

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Science Fiction and Alternate Realities at the Indy Shorts International Film Festival 2024

Sandwich board touting the Indy Shorts Film Festival on a brick sidewalk.

Coming to you not-quite-live from Mass Ave. in downtown Indianapolis!

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: last year we attended a genuine film festival! For more than a single film! My wife Anne and I enjoyed the Heartland Film Festival experience so much that we’ve resolved to seek more of those opportunities where possible. As it happens, Heartland isn’t the only game ’round these parts.

Indianapolis is also home to the Indy Shorts International Film Festival, which began as a sort of Heartland spinoff but has taken on a life of its own. It’s the largest Midwest festival of its kind, enjoys a lofty status as an official qualifying event for consideration in the three Academy Awards short-film categories, and has indeed seen past participants go on to Oscar nominations (e.g., last year’s The Barber of Little Rock). This year they fielded 5,130 submissions from filmmakers worldwide and whittled them down to 200 selections that have screened over the course of 34 programs across six days up to and including this very weekend.

I scored two free tickets courtesy of my employer, one of the festival’s sponsors, to attend one program of my choice. I’m game for just about any sort of genre or category and didn’t feel beholden to seek the most geek-forward material, but their “Science Fiction and Alternate Realities” program lined up neatly with an open time slot in what’s proven a rather hectic weekend for us, so we leaned into our geek-aesthete side anyway.

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“A Quiet Place: Day One”: The Mega-Muppets Take Manhattan

Lupita Nyong'o hunched fearfully in an alley, hugging a black-and-white cat.

“I’m not coming out of this alley until you promise Nakia gets more scenes in the next Black Panther.”

Previously on A Quiet Place: Emily Blunt was a heroic mother surviving on a post-apocalyptic farm with her remaining kids and without her Concerned Husband until things once again went awry and they fled to a nearby island, the perfect hiding place from that unnamed alien army who jump-‘n’-slash at the slightest noises but whose fatal weaknesses happened to include bodies of water. Our Family’s happy ending was nice for about ten minutes until one of them learned how to boat. Nevertheless, the day was later saved and human life found a way.

Director John Krasinski kept A Quiet Place: Part II‘s premise simple: “What if the first flick just kept going and was actually three hours long?” The sequel was more an expansion pack than a standalone tale unto itself. It came packaged with a free mini-prequel on the front, needlessly depicting how Day One of the invasion quickly devastated their small town. It was a satisfying course of more-of-the-same, but not in any groundbreaking way that left me yearning for further adventures in the Hyper-Hearing Horror-Horde Cinematic Universe.

Nevertheless, here we go again with some more prequel, A Quiet Place: Day One. With Krasinski off doing other things (i.e., IF, which I skipped), apparently any new AQP extensions are forbidden from moving the main characters forward, much like the Star Wars universe’s treadmilling-in-place spinoffs. Within that common yet exasperating genre-series boundary, what were the odds of a substitute filmmaker steering away from more-of-the-sameness?

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Yes, There’s a Scene After the “Inside Out 2” End Credits

Joy stands excitedly at the control panel with Anxiety, who looks sheepish and very orange. The room is all purple with rows of yellow light bulbs.

Manic Pixie Dream Joy welcomes Frazzled Rock!

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: Pixar made an entire movie about feels feeling feels! As someone who responds well to films that probe deeper emotions than “wheeeee”, I named Pete Doctor’s Inside Out my favorite film of 2015 – against the heavyweight competition of Creed, Spotlight, and Fury Road — after its in-depth examination of baseline emotions via cutesy anthropomorphization, as well as its complicated theses about the importance of sadness and the beginning of the end of childhood, wrecked me in the theater twice, back in that bygone era when I’d go see a film in theaters more than once if I thought it was that awesome.

Nine years later, Pixar has the blemished scorecard of any ordinary animation studio. I’ve had such mixed reactions that I only saw one of their last five films in theaters (and regretted giving in to the cash-grab). Nevertheless, I agreeably let them redeem Inside Out‘s stack of goodwill chips and left the house to catch the new Inside Out 2 while my inner voices of Skepticism and Hope squabbled with each other like Siskel and Ebert. Each of them scored points off the other, leaving me wrecked and nitpicky.

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My 2023 Reading Stacks #4: The Ludicrously Delayed Triple-Sized Wrap-Up

Bunch of books piled on our dining table, mostly graphic novels.

I usually prefer showing off all the covers, but we are waaaaay past the deadline that nobody gave me.

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:

Welcome to our recurring MCC feature in which I scribble capsule reviews of everything I’ve read that was published in a physical format over a certain page count with a squarebound spine on it — novels, original graphic novels, trade paperbacks, infrequent nonfiction dalliances, and so on. Due to the way I structure my media-consumption time blocks, the list will always feature more graphic novels than works of prose and pure text, though I do try to diversify my literary diet as time and acquisitions permit.

Occasionally I’ll sneak in a contemporary review if I’ve gone out of my way to buy and read something brand new. Every so often I’ll borrow from my wife Anne or from our local library. But the majority of our spotlighted works are presented years after the rest of the world already finished and moved on from them because I’m drawing from my vast unread pile that presently occupies four oversize shelves comprising thirty-five years of uncontrolled book shopping. I’ve occasionally pruned the pile, but as you can imagine, cut out one unread book and three more take its place…

Yeah, this is beyond late and into the realm of “why bother now?” It isn’t even the only “year in review” post still on my to-do list. The stacks have cluttered the area around our computer desk this entire time and really need to be moved so I don’t start mixing them up with the books I’ve read so far in 2024, but in my mind they can’t be moved till their capsules are finished. I hate to post an abbreviated entry simply to get something “over with”, but the time has come, gone, lapped around and come again. In the spirit of spring cleaning before summer begins this very week, here’s everything else I read last year but with (mostly) shorter capsules than usual. Longer capsules could be provided upon request, I guess?

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“FURIOSA: A MAD MAX SAGA” IN SUPER AWESOME DOLBY CINEMA ALL-CAPS-O-RAMA! (Well, Kinda!)

Post-apocalyptic warrior woman with black paint around her eyes gets out of a monster truck holding a sawed-off shotgun.

GET IN, LOSER! WE’RE GOING TO THE MOVIES!

PREVIOUSLY ON MIDLIFE CRISIS CROSSOVER: MAD MAX FURY ROAD WAS THE WINNER OF SIX ACADEMY AWARDS, A BEST PICTURE NOMINEE, ONE OF MY TOP 5 FILMS OF 2015, AND THE GREATEST MAD MAX MOVIE OF ALL TIME! I WATCHED IT AGAIN THE OTHER NIGHT AND IT WAS STILL LIKE BOBBING FOR GRENADES IN A BARREL FULL OF ADRENALIN! IT WAS EXTREMELY LOUDLY MIND-BLOWINGLY EXTREEEME! I WISH I COULD LEGALLY DRIVE LIKE THAT! AND I WROTE MY REVIEW IN SCREAMING MODE JUST LIKE THIS! IT WAS ONE OF OUR TOP 5 MOST POPULAR POSTS THAT YEAR! SO HERE WE GO AGAIN!

EVERYONE LOVED FURY ROAD SO MUCH, GEORGE MILLER MADE A PREQUEL! FURIOSA: A MAD MAX SAGA IS NOW IN THEATERS! BUT THERE’S NO CHARLIZE THERON OR TOM HARDY OR THE ONE CANCELED GUY THAT HARDY REPLACED! NO ONE REMEMBERS HARDY’S PART ANYWAY BECAUSE FURIOSA WAS AWESOME! SHE DROVE A TRUCK AND HAD A RAD HEAVY METAL BIONICLE ARM AND SHE STOLE THE MOVIE! BUT NOW SHE’S ANYA TAYLOR-JOY! WHO ISN’T CHARLIZE THERON! BUT SHE SURVIVED THE MENU AND SHE WAS MAGIK IN THE NEW MUTANTS, SO SHE’S BEEN THROUGH SOME STUFF!

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Proclaiming the Good News of the “Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes”

Smart ape holds a falcon on its gloved arm.

“So, eagle, you do for apes what you did for dwarves and hobbit?”

Previously on Planet of the Apes: apes rule Earth now! Andy Serkis’ Caesar led apes to victory but died for ape sins! Virus strike whole planet, make humanity stupider! Humanity also mute now! Lucky apes not have to hear human stupidity! Unless apes reinvent internet! Movies not say humans can’t type! Maybe ape moderators ban humans from simian media!

Everything’s coming up monkey-house as we continue with the prequel/reboot (preqboot?) series that’s been among the most consistently entertaining of its kind in this era of I.P. recycle-overdrive. (R.I.P. those once-cool X-Men preqboots whose producers turned their last two flicks into shiny dumpster clutter.) So far we’ve had nary a clunker in the new bunch, more than we can say for the original Apes pentalogy. That’s including the latest release, Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, which box-office pundits are dubbing a failure because its opening weekend earned “only” $58 million domestic, nearly twice as much as all other May 2024 blockbuster openings. Guess it’s hard out here for a chimp.

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“Abigail”: Bunhead of Blood

Tween vampire ballerina bursts through a white door, large wood fragments flying, murder in her eyes.

Black Swan but with slightly less agony.

Horror hasn’t been a primary go-to genre for me as I’ve aged, but I’ll check out a given work in just about any genre if it can sink a hook into the elusive target that is my set of aesthetic peculiarities. (And by “hook” I do not mean I award imaginary brownie points for use of the empty “elevated horror” label.) In the wake of the Hollywood-wide restart after last year’s dual WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes, some 7,000 new, quick-bake horror flicks will be coming to theaters over the next several months as studios catch up on their precious blockbuster assembly-line schedules. Amid the flood of recent blood-soaked trailers — from high-concept to lowbrow to “the plot is a spoiler!” — one pitch spoke to me from the fray: “From the directors of the last two Scream movies!”

If the preceding sentences sound familiar, it’s because they’re largely lifted from my previous write-up of Late Night with the Devil. If horror flicks have taught me anything, it’s that recycling is cool. Sometimes old parts can be reused in a new contraption without collapsing. Sometimes the contraption is pretty nifty, like folding a newspaper into a sailboat, or making an omelet with leftover taco filling, or lifting the one-line concept from an old Universal monster movie but throwing away the rest of the movie because no one remembers it anyway.

Hence, directors Matt Bellinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett (d/b/a the team “Radio Silence”) present Abigail. The 1936 work that inspired it is a spoiler. Its entire trailer is a spoiler. Fortunately it doesn’t spoil the whole runtime, as more twists abound and a crack ensemble makes up the difference in their performances whenever the writing withholds too much.

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My Free Comic Book Day 2024 Results, Ranked

Two black-and white panels: angry hunter points his shotgun in the face of a small-town sheriff. Sound effects are in Japanese.

What we have here is a failure to communicate. Art by Masaaki Ninomiya.

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: Saturday was Free Comic Book Day! Per annual tradition, publishers and retailers nationwide collaborated to offer some four dozen comics gratis to any and all comers. Some comics generously featured brand new stories. Some contained excerpts from upcoming or previous works. A few were, at best, ad pamphlets. I visited four central Indiana shops, came away with 23 freebies in all, and bought additional cool things from each place.

Per my own annual tradition, my reading results came out as follows, ranked subjectively and upwardly from “Not My Thing” to “Buy More on Sight”:

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“Late Night with the Devil”: Time Now for Stupid Host Tricks

1970s TV show host holds a mic and side-eyes stage right. Behind him is his house band, led by a chubby bald guy wearing red devil horns and a cape for Halloween.

“Our next guest needs no introduction…”

Horror hasn’t been a primary go-to genre for me as I’ve aged, but I’ll check out a given work in just about any genre if it can sink a hook into the elusive target that is my set of aesthetic peculiarities. (And by “hook” I do not mean I award imaginary brownie points for use of the empty “elevated horror” label.) In the wake of the Hollywood-wide restart after last year’s dual WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes, some 7,000 new, quick-bake horror flicks will be coming to theaters over the next several months as studios catch up on their precious blockbuster assembly-line schedules. Amid the flood of recent blood-soaked trailers — from high-concept to lowbrow to “the plot is a spoiler!” — one pitch spoke to me from the fray: “Starring David Dastmalchian!”

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“Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire”: Back to Basic Behemoth-Bashing

The yellow-and-black IMAX movie poster for "Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire". The title monsters are running in shadowed profile. Tiny fight jets zoom alongside them. The 'A' in "IMAX" is replaced with a Pyramid thinner than any real Egyptian Pyramid.

Bad beasts, bad beasts, whatcha gonna do?

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: the MonsterVerse is a thing! Once enough time had passed since Roland Emmerich’s Godzilla and Peter Jackson’s King Kong, the blockbuster peddlers at Legendary Pictures decided America was ready once again for rude giant animals to crush everything in their paths and possibly dominate theaters. Their Avengers-style interconnected saga began with 2014’s recycle-titled Godzilla, which delivered one truly mighty monster melee after two hours of ordinary humans reminding us what we didn’t like about the previous five decades’ predecessors. Pop culture’s most popular overtall simian returned in 2017’s Kong: Skull Island, a period-piece prequel that shamelessly embraced kaiju camp, OD’d on steroids and let its creatures run amuck through Apocalypse Now backdrops and chase some of the best character actors in the biz. The humans were suspiciously more entertaining and having way more fun than usual, as monster toe-jam ingredients go.

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“Dune: Part Two”: Another 40 Days in the Loudest Desert Ever

Poster for

Fresh off Oscar Quest ’24, we bring you a sneak peek at Oscar Quest ’25.

Previously on Dune: director Denis Villeneuve brought his gloriously ponderous, A/V-intoxicating, starkly symmetrical majesty to Frank Herbert’s universe, the quintessential American “Chosen One on Planet Sahara” space opera, and helped me heal from the childhood trauma of sitting through David Lynch’s compromised beach-ball of confusion. Villeneuve gambled on a dissatisfying To Be Continued ending for Part One with no guarantee he’d be permitted to keep going. Dune: Part Two ties up a thread or two, but to viewers who never pored over the sacred Herbertian texts (or who, like me, tried and failed to slog through), it was perhaps a surprise to find To Be Continued shall apparently be the saga’s status quo evermore, for as long as capricious Warner Bros. execs permit.

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Indianapolis Man Watches All 53 Academy Award Nominees, Receives Pat on Head from His Oscar Widow

Jon Batiste on stage at Carnegie Hall, viewed from behind as he raises his arms toward an impressed audience.

Jon Batiste playing Carnegie Hall between awards ceremonies.

I am so, so tired. It’s been a loooong six weeks.

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: Oscar Quest ’24 has dominated my head space and made me neglect numerous other overdue blogging projects. I’m pleased to report I’m at long last finished: I’ve seen all 38 nominated features and all 15 shorts, marking my first-ever 100% achievement of completing my OQ24 scorecard before the big ABC ceremony. I don’t watch sports, so the Oscars are my Super Bowl, which makes me look weird to most folks in my circles. Nevertheless, once again my traditional hobby-journey was spellbinding, enlightening, maddening, exhausting fun.

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“Io Capitano”: From Naivete to Nightmare

Google Wallet screen shot of the mMovie poster for "Io Capitano": Black teen walks through the Sahara Desert while a smiling African woman flies behind him and holds his hand.

When you wish upon a star…

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: Oscar Quest ’24 is in the home stretch! We do our best to see how many freshly nominated works we can catch before ABC’s big, indulgent Academy Awards ceremony ends the viewing season.

Our final theatrical release on the list is the Best International Feature nominee Io Capitano. It opened in Chicago and Cincinnati at least a week before its distributor deigned to grace Indianapolis with its presence on the very last weekend of this Oscar season. Its local “Coming Soon” status had been in limbo for weeks, leaving me to seriously consider road-tripping to Cincy for the sake 100% completion of this annual hobby-project. My patience paid off, and some time and gas money were saved.

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