Posts Tagged Pedro Pascal

The Fantastic Four: A Bold New Take on Marvel’s First Family

696 words, 4 minutes read time.

Marvel’s latest reboot doesn’t so much revisit the origin of The Fantastic Four as skip past it entirely. Set in a vividly realised alternate 1960s Earth, the film assumes we’re already familiar with its heroes and instead plunges us straight into their lives, domestic dramas and all. It’s a bold move—one that trades exposition for emotional immediacy and stylish worldbuilding. And, for the most part, it works.

We do get a sketch of their origin, cleverly folded into a retro TV broadcast early in the film—a film-within-a-film that summarises their cosmic-ray space mission, mutations, and rise to fame with grainy footage and breathless narration. It’s more tone-setter than plot dump, and it sets the stage with enough flair and efficiency to let the story get on with the real business: character, conflict, and consequence.

Director Matt Shakman draws on his background in television and stage to deliver something that feels lived-in rather than laboured. His “Earth 828” is a retro-futurist dreamscape of chrome and colour—mid-century modern meets Jetsons-style sci-fi. Against that backdrop, the Fantastic Four are less a superhero team than a chosen family. Reed Richards (Pedro Pascal) is a distracted genius-turned-expectant father; Sue Storm (Vanessa Kirby) is the heart of the household and the emotional ballast of the team. Their impending child is both blessing and battleground when Julia Garner’s Silver Surfer arrives with an ultimatum from Galactus: surrender the unborn baby, or watch Earth be devoured. It’s a stark twist on a biblical theme, and it elevates the film beyond standard-issue Marvel peril.

The performances give the film much of its weight. Kirby is particularly strong—controlled, intelligent, and quietly fierce. Pascal plays Reed as a man always five steps ahead intellectually, but emotionally just trying to keep up. Joseph Quinn’s Johnny Storm captures that mix of bravado and boyish insecurity that made the character so appealing in the comics, while Ebon Moss-Bachrach’s Ben Grimm is all gruff warmth and sardonic charm. There’s banter between the Thing and the Human Torch—just enough to nod to their classic comic dynamic—and it’s one of the elements I’d love to see more of in future instalments.

A standout, for me, is the reimagining of the Silver Surfer. Growing up, the Surfer was one of my favourite Marvel characters—Norrin Radd, the tragic philosopher, gliding across galaxies in service of a cosmic hunger he could never quite accept. Here, the filmmakers take a different tack: Julia Garner’s Surfer is still Galactus’s herald, but her presence is cooler, more detached, more alien. It’s a major departure from the source material—but one I welcomed. The switch to a female Surfer opens new dramatic possibilities, not least the subtle spark between her and Johnny Storm. It’s hinted at here, and I hope future films build on it. Their contrast—fire and silver, cocky charm and distant stillness—could add a fascinating new thread.

Visually, the film is often stunning. Kasra Farahani’s production design fuses 1960s pop with atomic-age sci-fi to create a world that feels at once nostalgic and new. The action is well paced, never overwhelming. And Michael Giacchino’s score—equal parts brassy optimism and celestial dread—enhances every frame without overwhelming the human story.

It’s not without flaws. The film occasionally leans too hard into montage, skipping over beats that could have landed harder with more room to breathe. Emotional payoffs, like Johnny’s appeal to the Surfer, are there—but undercooked. And the overall arc, while strong, occasionally bends to MCU formula where it might have lingered on character. But when it matters most, the film finds its footing—not in explosions or Easter eggs, but in the small moments between its characters.

After years of false starts and misfires, The Fantastic Four: First Steps finally gets something essential right. It remembers that these aren’t just superheroes—they’re people bound by love, conflict, sacrifice, and loyalty. It honours the source material without being shackled by it. And it gestures, with real confidence, towards a future for Marvel’s First Family that might be as strange, stylish, and human as they’ve always deserved.

Review by Patrick Harrington

Picture credit: By http://www.impawards.com/2025/fantastic_four_ver18.html, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=77473850

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Pat Harrington looks at Gladiator II: A Visual Feast with a Lack of Depth?

339 words, 2 minutes read time.

Gladiator II is a visual spectacle. It builds on the legacy of Ridley Scott’s 2000 classic, but its depth falls short. While the original Gladiator was rich in moral and political themes, this sequel prioritises action over meaning.

The first film explored power, corruption, and the idea of justice. It was a story of revenge but also redemption. Maximus was a symbol of honour in a dishonourable world. His journey exposed the rot at the heart of the Roman Empire.

In contrast, Gladiator II offers less reflection. It focuses more on violence and spectacle. The political undertones are vague, and the ethical dilemmas feel superficial. It entertains but rarely provokes thought.

Psychologically, it touches on the scars left by violence. Characters struggle with loss and trauma, but these themes feel secondary to the action. The emotional weight of Maximus’s story is missing. Instead, the film feels more like an adrenaline rush.

The Romans were drawn to violent games for many reasons. The Colosseum was a place to distract the masses. It provided entertainment and reinforced imperial power. The games celebrated strength and dominance. They masked the struggles of daily life with blood and glory.

Today, films like Gladiator II serve a similar purpose. They distract us from our own realities. They let us experience danger and power from a safe distance. Violence on screen shocks, but it also excites.

Why are we so drawn to it? Perhaps it connects us to something primal. Violence is dramatic. It reveals extremes of human nature—courage, fear, cruelty. The arena, whether ancient or cinematic, is a place of high stakes.

But where the original Gladiator questioned this spectacle, the sequel embraces it. It doesn’t challenge our fascination with violence; it indulges it. This makes it thrilling but less profound.

Gladiator II is entertaining, but it lacks the soul of its predecessor. The first film asked big questions. This one delivers big action. It’s a triumph of visuals, but not of ideas.

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Picture Credit

By IMP Awards, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=77311566

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Drive-Away Dolls (2024)

317 words, 2 minutes read time.

In this bawdy, trashy, road trip caper, Ethan Coen (of the famous Coen Brothers duo) sets off in a wild new direction. Newly single Jamie (played by Margaret Qualley) impulsively joins her friend Marian (Geraldine Viswanathan) on a road trip to Florida. Little do they know that their rental car harbours an ominous briefcase – one that people are willing to kill for.

Jamie, an incorrigible horndog with an accent that sounds like Tommy Lee Jones on fast-forward, and buttoned-up Marian embark on a path to Florida. Their rented car carries unexpected cargo. Hot on their trail are a pair of hitmen, Arliss and Flint, reminiscent of Fargo’s chatterbox/misanthrope pairing. Meanwhile, a loquacious wiseacre (think O Brother, Where Art Thou’s Ulysses Everett McGill) stays one step ahead of them. The banter between the hitmen is one of the funniest parts of the movie.

Set on the eve of Y2K, the twilight of Clintonism, and the eve of a conservative resurgence, “Drive-Away Dolls” explores fresh territory for the Coenverse. It’s as novel as a sense of humor dumbed-down enough to allow for a sight gag involving a tiny, humping dog. The film balances its libido-drunk wild goose chase with jabs at American political pathologies, all while maintaining its signature Coen-esque quirkiness.

If you are offended by Lesbian sexuality and sex this isn’t the film for you!

Verdict: “Drive-Away Dolls” is a movie that doesn’t take itself seriously, not even a little bit. It’s an off-color comedy where everyone is a goofball or a bumbling rube. The goons constantly bungle the chase, Jamie can’t stop talking about cunnilingus and her vulva, and even the straitlaced Marian gets into trouble with her attitude. If you’re up for a wild ride filled with laughs, unexpected twists, and a dash of absurdity, buckle up and hit the road with the “Drive-Away Dolls”!

Reviewed by Pat Harrington

Picture credit: By http://www.impawards.com/2024/driveaway_dolls_ver3.html, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=74117062

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