Take this as you will, but 2019’s Shazam! is one of the DCEU’s best films. It’s no Birds of Prey — my gold standard for the DCEU — and it certainly doesn’t hold up quite as well on rewatch, but the pure adolescent joy that it radiated and its strong emotional beats made for a uniquely wholesome time for comic book movie fare.

“Nothing lasts forever,” as a character in Shazam! Fury of the Gods, the sequel to the 2019 film, warns Billy. This sentiment rings true unless you’re Kevin Feige, but it’s true in the case of Fury of the Gods, which goes bigger in almost every way than its predecessor. But clichés are clichés for a reason — and Fury of the Gods is proof that bigger is not always better. 

After the events of Shazam! which saw Billy Batson (portrayed by Asher Angel in his teenage form and Zachary Levi in adult form) spread the wealth and give his foster siblings powers like him, the group of superheroes, dubbed the “Philadelphia Fiascos” by the locals, are doing their best to save the day in the City of Brotherly Love. But like any group of teenage superheroes, they haven’t quite got this whole “superhero thing” down yet, as a comic book movie character would phrase it. They’re messy, but avoid any fatal casualties, which warrants a pat on the back in a universe where Superman and Batman kill, I guess. 

Back in reality, or high school, things haven’t changed much. Freddy (portrayed by Jack Dylan Grazer in his teenage form and Adam Brody in his adult form) is still being picked on by the bullies from the first, even after showing them up by having his own “Bring Your Superman to School Day,” if you remember the post-credits scene from Shazam! (don’t worry; the writers assume you don’t and will remind you that this did, in fact, happen). But he soon meets a cute new girl, Anna (Rachel Zegler), who he hits it off with. Reality comes crashing down when it’s soon discovered that Anna, whose actual name is Anthea, is a daughter of Atlas and sister of Hespera (Helen Mirren) and Kalypso (Lucy Liu). It’s up to Billy and co. to stop them from getting the magical staff from the end of the first film (another event that the film handily shows as a refresher). 

Starting with the good, there are fractions of what made Shazam! work so well. When Freddy and Anna have their little meet cute, it’s actually quite endearing in the same way Andrew Garfield’s Peter Parker and Emma Stone’s Gwen Stacy’s first encounters were in The Amazing Spider-Man. And the team dynamic of the foster kids — which to Billy is being compromised as he nears the point of “aging out” of his foster home — largely works. 

Each kid represents something different in the group, but some get more time in the sun than others. Grace Fulton, who has the distinctive chance to play both the teenage and adult versions of her character, Mary, is still contemplating her decision to not go to college and is facing the fact that being a superhero doesn’t pay the bills. Fulton has been getting better with every role as of late (watch Fall), and that carries on here. 

Ross Butler, who plays the adult version of Eugene, is so charismatic but is still delegated to B-level hero in Fury of the Gods. If 13 Reasons Way proved anything, it’s that he’s capable of doing more than being a handsome jock (or superhero, in this case). Give him a Mason Gooding-like role and I’m sure he’ll show it.

The best actor of the bunch, who perfectly found a way to channel the innocence of her younger counterpart, is Meagan Good, who plays the superhero version of Darla. Faithe Herman is also great as the younger version of Darla, but it’s amazing how Good is able to perfectly channel Herman in her performance (hats off to casting director Rich Delia). She retains the wholesome eyes and childlike mind as her adult version Herman has. 

But the reality of it is, none of the kids get the spotlight like Billy and Freddy do. Grazer is his usual comedic self that always cracks a smile when on screen while Angel does his best in the limited time he has in the film. It’s both a blessing and a curse to be Billy Batson, as arguably the biggest name of the superheroes, Levi, is going to be used prominently throughout the film. At least to my knowledge of Shazam! — which is nothing to bet on — there was a good balance between young and old Billy. In Fury of the Gods, however, it feels like an 80/20 split between Levi and Angel.  Levi’s gawky fish out of water schtick — which is about half as endearing as a Michael Cera character — gets by but doesn’t always find himself on the right side of sweet and annoying.  

Perhaps in the third film, we can return to the roots of these characters and focus more on the kids themselves. After all, if you want to namedrop the Fast & Furious franchise and its theme of family — one that’s referenced better than it is executed in Fury of the Gods — you have to hone in on that. I know Billy’s arc of searching for his mother is over, but it’s almost like a complete afterthought in Fury of the Gods until the end. Maybe it’s just that Billy is no longer the sole central character — though the third act would leave you to believe differently — or the fact that writers Henry Gayden and Chris Morgan were uninterested in exploring it with any substance. Either way, Marta Milans and Cooper Andrews, who play the foster parents Rosa and Victor Vásquez, are such a shining light in these films but are sidelined for most of Fury of the Gods. 

Gayden returns after being the sole writer credited on Shazam! and is teamed with Fast & Furious veteran Morgan (which explains the namedrop). The one thing I’ll give them credit for is Anthea’s storyline and not having her be the big bad while Freddy is too busy drooling through his rose-colored lenses to see this, but the rest of the story is a miss (there’s a bit involving the song “I Need a Hero” that is almost as bad as the line in I Wanna Dance With Somebody when Whitney Houston first hears the demo of the titular song and claims it’s “a song about two people who want to dance”). 

Like that bit, the rest of the humor is oftentimes dreadful and has two ends of the spectrum: There’s the side of Djimon Hounsou — who returns as the wizard from the previous film — who’s able to occasionally make the very dry jokes land, and then there’s the Helen Mirren side; who must have been returning a favor of some sort to Morgan during her time in the Fast franchise. She, above anyone else, seems the least interested to be there. But who can blame her? She didn’t even care enough to explain the synopsis on the press tour, so why would I expect anything more? 

Not to only pick on the great Mirren, Liu is not much better as Kalypso. The biggest issue with these antagonists is that there’s not enough time to sit with these characters. Their motives are quite clear, but that doesn’t make you care about them or their situation. Zegler works the most out of the three sisters of Atlas because she actually gets to interact with the younger characters. The trio of Mirren, Liu and Zegler is about as talented and star-studded as you can get, they’re just wasted. 

David F. Sandberg returns as the director of Fury of the Gods. While I’m a big fan of Lights Out — the best PG-13 horror flick in recent times and in dire need of a sequel — and Annabelle: Creation, something is missing in his Shazam! flicks. It’s not that he’s incapable of utilizing a big budget, but the finished product of Fury of the Gods reeks of a film spewed out of a corporate machine. The story is lackluster, even despite its best efforts, and the direction is uninspired. The CGI, in true DCEU fashion, is just as drab as usual. DC Comics have always had a grittier aesthetic to my knowledge and lean heavily into the mythology of it all, but some of the landscapes just look so dull. Say what you want about Marvel — many of their recent films have sucked — but very rarely do their films lack color. Even Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania, which was a disappointment in almost all areas including the potential for its visuals, had color if nothing else. Fury of the Gods is oftentimes too dark and looks stuck in the “Snyderverse” era. 

And Fury of the Gods follows the tradition of the Shazam! films with a third act that mostly takes place in the air above Philadelphia, just replace Mark Strong with a wooden dragon. There’s a little more emotional depth to this fight, but the DCEU has its own formula for its third acts much like how the MCU has its formula for everything. 

It’s disappointing that Fury of the Gods doesn’t live up to its predecessor. I imagine (and hope) that we’ll get more of these characters, which is great news considering how charismatic the teenage and adult versions of each are, but this second entry in the franchise is the downward dip that hopefully builds towards a satisfying trilogy closer. And just due to the standards that the DCEU has set for itself, Fury of the Gods still manages to be better than at least half of these films offhand and is a fine trip to the movies with your family — so take that as you will. Is it a good movie? No.

If we are to continue following Billy and the “Philadelphia Fiascos,” it sure does feel like we’ll only get bigger from here — I’m not a DCEU megafan, but aren’t we supposed to get Shazam vs. Black Adam? — assuming that these films continue. The whole future of the DCEU gives me a headache thinking about it, but I imagine that a third Shazam! film will be too big of an opportunity to pass up. Nevertheless, here’s hoping that any future installment scales it back and hones in on what made the first film so charming. And if nothing else, at least Fury of the Gods is better than Black Adam. 

Shazam! Fury of the Gods is in theaters now. 

About halfway through John Wick: Chapter 4, Winston (Ian McShane) asks the question that all cinemagoers seeing the film will be asking: “When does it end?” Granted, in the context of the film, he’s asking what the endgame for John Wick (Keanu Reeves) is, seeing that his hopes of gaining freedom dwindle by the hour, but that same question can be asked with the heavyweight blockbuster that is Chapter 4. The nearly three-hour epic is jam-packed with some amazing choreography and cinematography, Western influences and a globe-trotting adventure that takes John all around from Osaka, Berlin and Paris. At its peak, Chapter 4 is the embodiment of what action blockbusters should be — much like its predecessors, along with Mad Max: Fury Road and Bullet Train — but it also falls victim to some of the issues that hamper the other John Wick sequels that bog it down. Let’s not confuse spectacle for quality, folks. 

As most of the John Wick sequels do, Chapter 4 picks up soon after the events of Parabellum; John is left for dead after Winston shot him, and he’s left to pick up the pieces and discover his way out of this life of running. Luckily, there may be a way for John to earn his freedom, but standing in the way is a bevy of obstacles, including former friends who are now foes. 

In true fashion to its predecessors, John’s journey feels like swimming against the tide. Every sequence that sees him run through nameless bounty hunters and soldiers leaves you catching your breath before an influx of more begins coming after him. The pacing of the action scenes has always been good in the series, but Chapter 4 is a pure adrenaline rush when the foot is on the gas. There are a ton of different people to shout out, but Laurent Demianoff, the fight choreographer/stunt coordinator, and Stephen Dunlevy, another stunt coordinator, really deserve their flowers. 

However, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The choreography is great, just look at the Berlin club sequence, but the fight sequences are heavily enhanced by the cinematography of Dan Laustsen — who has shot each of the sequels. It’s style over substance if we’re being real. There’s one particular sequence in an old building that’s like a video game (in the most flattering way possible). We get a bird’s eye view of John as he mows through people like how most Call of Duty players at the top of leaderboards think they look. It’s a bit dizzying, but this was a unique way of framing it. You also appreciate the choreography more since you can see all of the things in motion on-screen. 

The Call of Duty analogy also carries over to the action itself. Following John as he runs through nameless bad guys can get repetitive, but the framing and the music are what keep you enthralled. A lot of the kills are just bullets to the face and nunchucks (my favorite weapon in the series) being swung. It’s just mindless if you really break it down (albeit fun), yet we want to call this the best action movie ever. 

Chapter 4‘s best set piece, which deserves its own mention, is one the one that takes place at the Place Charles de Gaulle. If you thought New Jersey has the worst roundabouts, just wait until you see this! It’s like Grand Theft Auto meets Crossy Road in a sequence that’ll have you on the edge of your seat as cars zoom by the action.

But at the end of the day, while the spectacle elements of the film are great, what really makes these scenes different than the action sequences in the previous films? Just because the John Wick films are notoriously visceral doesn’t make each sequel the “best action movie ever,” a phrase repeated on Twitter ad nauseam. While not the same type of action movie, I think that the Mission: Impossible movies give the John Wick films a run for their money.

Plus, a lot of the action sequences are homages to films that have come before. Much like how Quentin Tarantino has paid homage to Westerns (more on this later) and Japanese films in almost all of his films, the John Wick films owe a lot to the films that have come before. Technology is on the side of John Wick, but some of Bruce Lee’s classics are just as exhilarating and innovative with their action.  

Chapter 4 even borrows from Parabellum. I love the first act of Parabellum for the way it throws John to the wolves in the city that never sleeps. It’s an enthralling chase that Chapter 4 seeks to replicate — just replacing the city that never sleeps with the city of lights. They have their differences, sure, but it did feel a bit redundant outside of its usage of “Paint It, Black” (how have we not used that in one of these films?). 

On the Western front, one thing Chapter 4 isn’t afraid of is putting its Western influences on full display. Sure, all of the John Wick films have Westerns in their DNA — John himself is akin to a Clint Eastwood-type character minus some of the bravado — but much like how Parabellum ended with an ode to Game of Death, Chapter 4 pays homage to the Westerns of the past. Even the score — co-composed by Tyler Bates (Pearl) and Joel J. Richard (John Wick) — infuses Americana guitar picking into its pieces. These composers are smart, and they pick their spots well. There are plenty of isolated scenes where the sounds of the fight happening on-screen are all that’s heard. Other times, the Western-sounding score is weaved in naturally into scenes. 

All of this is said before even touching on Reeves and the rest of the cast. Reeves is his usual self — a rare case of a movie star who’s bulletproof because of his public persona. He’s just such a likable guy, on and off the screen, that you can’t help but root for him. That’s not to say he has improved much as an actor — he emotes roughly the same when he’s being choked by a rope and when he’s not — but again, who doesn’t love Keanu? And he’s good at this whole action thing, which is all you need in a film like Chapter 4. It’s not like the writers ever try and make Reeves do anything beyond his limitations, after all.

Donnie Yen is the biggest standout of the newcomers. He’s an assassin for the High Table who happens to be blind, but his resourcefulness pays off more times than not. Yen is the best at martial arts in the film, hands down, and outclasses the rest of the cast (though Rina Sawayama as Akira gives him a run for his money). He’s never static in his movements and is the most vibrant from a physical standpoint in the film. Hiroyuki Sanada plays Shimazu, the manager of the Osaka Continental Hotel and Akira’s father. He’s another standout in his limited screen time. My main takeaway from Chapter 4 is that I’ve been gaslit into questioning whether all of these “old friends” have been in previous entries or not.

One cast member that I know is returning is McShane as Winston. His role has continued down the trend of spewing the necessary exposition for our main character. He’s like an NPC in a boring video game, though, because his dialogue is so bland with his character in particular that he makes a duel sound mundane. It’s unfortunate that writers, Shay Hatten and Michael Finch — who served as two of the four writers on Parabellum — couldn’t find more ways to make his dialogue seem more organic rather than him word-vomiting anything important that John needs to hear. It’s sad because I don’t ever remember Winston being this much of a tool; perhaps Derek Kolstad’s presence is missed. 

Not that any of these films have had stupendous dialogue, but Hatten and Finch’s script does stand out as weaker than some of the previous films — it’s not just Winston, either. The worst line, by far, is when someone calls John “unlucky” (at least that’s what I heard) after he fell 20 feet onto concrete. I’m not sure if this was supposed to be ironic, but no one laughed if that was the case.

I’ll give the writers some credit for the themes they tackle. John has to face the consequences of his actions — something that many franchises veer away from. Even if John himself is practically bulletproof, the things he’s done have a butterfly effect on those closest to him. I applaud the effort, even if it doesn’t always fully pay off, as the likes of Marvel and DC would’ve just put him through the wringer before simply giving him a happy ending full of neat bows and resolution.

Bill Skarsgård is looking more like Joe Burrow than ever as Marquis de Gramont, a member of the High Table who’s attempting to wipe out John. While many fell in love with this campy performance, he’s your typical overzealous and sloppy leader. He’s fine, but he’s not given much to do other than act “menacing” every 25 minutes or so. 

Which could have been remedied had the runtime been more concise. At a hefty 169 minutes, Chapter 4 is by far the longest of the series and still left more to be desired from Laurence Fishburne and Shamier Anderson (who plays a new character called Nobody). Was it necessary to blow the other runtimes out of the water, though? Parabellum pushed it with the 131-minute runtime, but the extra 40 minutes in Chapter 4 are filled with fluff. After an exhilarating first act, the film hits a lull in the second until things are done to set the third act into motion. From there, it’s once again pedal-to-the-metal, but that second act really could have been trimmed. This is an issue present in both Chapter 2 and Parabellum and not exclusive to Chapter 4, though.

While mixed on Chapter 4, I’d lean more positive because of how fun the action can be (hey, I’m not a complete downer!). No, it’s not the greatest action movie ever, but it mostly sticks the landing of this arc of one John Wick. If anything, the runtime and the writing hold this film back from greatness. Where the franchise goes from here will be interesting, but hopefully, we won’t have to wait too much longer to hear Reeves start a line with “Yeah.” 

John Wick: Chapter 4 will be released in theaters on March 24.

Being trapped in a luxurious apartment in Manhattan that overlooks the beautiful Big Apple sounds like the dream for many. In fact, that was the reality for the top 1% that live in New York City. But what can be one man’s dream can also be another man’s nightmare — just ask Willem Dafoe in his new film, Inside (no, not the Bo Burnham comedy special with a song about Jeff Bezos). Inside is the new psychological thriller directed by Vasillis Katsoupis and stars Dafoe in what’s basically a one-man show that begs the all-important question of What if you modernized Robert Eggers’ The Lighthouse?  

While many films can be simplified when describing their plots, Inside may take the cake in terms of stories that are easy to follow. “Art is for keeps,” says Nemo (Dafoe), an experienced art thief. When a job goes wrong, is stuck inside the penthouse of an affluent man who’s on a business trip. Being that the alarm was set off, Nemo’s left with nothing but his wits and own instincts to survive. 

And what better actor is there to play a man descending into madness in isolation than Dafoe? It feels like half of his roles have included some bit of his performance in Inside (even The Card Counter came to mind). Nemo begins stressed and anxious when the alarms first ring but soon becomes more content once the realization that he’s stuck sinks in (he comes around to “Macarena,” which plays every time the refrigerator is opened). Throughout the 105-minute runtime, Nemo adapts and begins attempting to find ways out. Bear in mind, he’s left with no running water once the alarm goes off; resulting in him using bowls and buckets to collect water from the in-house garden hoses. But as the film progresses and the despair further sets in, Nemo does too. Dafoe’s a very visceral performer, and he really sells the wear and tear that Nemo endures — like when he begins reciting a stand-up routine to an audience of none.

Credit is also due to director Katsoupis and cinematographer Steve Annis. Unlike The Lighthouse, which was constrained in terms of scope, relatively speaking, Inside really has a big sandbox to play in. It feels as though we go through every nook and cranny of the penthouse with Nemo in the film, even uncovering some dark secrets along the way, and the frames are meaningful. Whether it’s the framing of the imprisoned Nemo on one side of the glass and a bird — who is completely free — or the subtlety of the phrases in neon lights on many of the walls, there are little frames that are useless. 

The score, or lack thereof, was an interesting choice that pays off. Frederik van de Moortel composed the score, and for the first half of the film, it’s barely present. As the film builds toward its crescendo, so does the score, but the soft piano keys that occasionally ring through are perfectly timed. The lack of score further emphasizes the noiseless atmosphere that Nemo is enduring. 

I guess all of this was an effort to make Inside as suffocating as it can be. An introvert’s dream really does become the stuff of nightmares as Inside progresses, but that’s also where the film runs into some issues. While a 105-minute film is never something to take for granted — try seeing TÁR, Decision to Leave and White Noise within 24 hours — there becomes a point in Inside where the mundane becomes monotonous. It’s abundantly clear that Nemo isn’t getting out anytime soon, but eventually, it feels as though the viewer is just vegging out in this gigantic living room. 

That’s not to say that Inside never attempts to give Nemo some backstory, but it’s clearly something that Katsoupis — who directed and created the story — and writer Vasilis Katsoupis were clearly uninterested in exploring further. With a film like Inside, which primarily takes place in one location, you have an important decision to make: Do you stay indoors for 100% of the runtime like 12 Angry Men, or do you elongate the film’s runtime and try to give characters more background? In this case, I’d rather have no background explicitly shown and leave it to Dafoe and his wonderful voice-over work to fill in the blanks. 

The idea of Nemo’s fixation on art and it being everlasting should have and could have been explored further. The fact that he’s stuck in a penthouse full of art and that the one constant in his life is his sketchbook paves the way for an interesting theme that’s not fully explored. 

A one-man show of just Dafoe may be too much for some, but he’s awesome as usual. He single-handedly makes this particular character study watchable, but it’s a great concept that’s stretched thin throughout its runtime. 

Inside will be released in theaters on March 17.