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I have to be honest, I’m not a huge Pixar fan. The studio just doesn’t vibe with me the way it does with a lot of other people, but there are some exceptions. For example, I love Coco, and I really like Onward, and when I first heard about Elio, I thought it had a good shot at joining that exclusive club. This movie brings Pixar’s signature style to an area of science fiction I quite enjoy, so I figured it would be right up my alley. I bought a ticket for opening weekend as soon as I got the chance, and I entered the theater hopeful that I’d soon be leaving with a big smile on my face.
Elio was directed by Madeline Sharafian, Domee Shi, and Adrian Molina, and it stars the voices of Yonas Kibreab, Zoe Saldaña, Remy Edgerly, Brandon Moon, Brad Garrett, and Jameela Jamil. In the film, Elio is a young boy who lives with his aunt after losing his mother and father in an unspecified tragedy. He feels completely alone in this world, so he longs to be abducted by aliens. It seems like a long shot, but one day, the kid gets his wish. Aliens arrive on earth and take him back to their home world, and before long, Elio finds himself in a situation that just might be a bit above his pay grade. These extraterrestrials think he’s Earth’s ruler, so they enlist him to help resolve a looming intergalactic crisis. If you know anything about Pixar, you know their movies always contain uplifting and edifying messages, and Elio is no exception. As you can probably guess from the plot synopsis, this film is essentially a parable about love and acceptance, but it goes deeper than you might expect at first. Initially, the story makes you think it’s just going to be about a loner who finally finds the community he’s been looking for ever since his parents died, and that’s definitely part of it. The film teaches an almost Pope Francis-esque lesson about being attentive to people on the margins and showing them the love they deserve, but there’s a bit more to it than just that. I can’t say too much without spoiling the ending, but I can tell you that Elio focuses in a special way on the love parents (and parental figures like Elio’s aunt) should have for their children. It shows in striking fashion that parents are supposed to be the first place their kids encounter the unconditional love they crave, and while I’m not a parent myself, I still found that message pretty moving. But as I’ve said multiple times before, a good message doesn’t automatically make a good movie. A film needs to convey its message in an engaging way, and on that count, Elio is a pretty mixed bag. On the one hand, the animation is top notch. It’s the standard Pixar style we’ve become accustomed to over the last few decades, and to the surprise of no one, it’s better than ever. There are even a number of times when the backgrounds look so photorealistic you’d be forgiven for thinking they were actually live action, so on a purely technical level, this movie is an absolute marvel to behold. However, when our protagonist finally makes it to the alien world, the ETs are pretty underwhelming. Most obviously, the creature designs feel clichéd and lazy, so even though these characters are definitely not of this Earth, they nevertheless have a very “been there, done that” vibe to them. To be fair, kids who’ve never seen a sci-fi film before will probably be amazed by these otherworldly creations, but if you’re familiar with the genre, you’ll almost certainly be let down. Along similar lines, Elio’s extraterrestrial adventure isn’t terribly exciting either. Granted, I wouldn’t say it’s bad, but for much of the movie’s runtime, it’s just as blasé as the ETs themselves. The story is a predictable rehash of tropes we’ve seen numerous times before, and it’s only in the last act that Elio finally picks up the pace and really gets your heart pounding. Unfortunately though, it’s a bit too little a bit too late, so despite ending on a high note, Elio is pretty middling overall. There’s enough good here that you won’t be wasting your time if you do see it, but there’s also enough bad that you won’t be missing much if you give the film a pass. It’s your call, but either way, I doubt this movie is going to end up on your top-ten (or bottom-ten, for that matter!) list come December.
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As a big horror fan, I was super excited for 28 Years Later. Sure, horror sequels are notoriously hit or miss (and that’s putting it mildly!), but this movie has something most genre follow-ups don’t. Both the writer and the director of 28 Days Later are back for this one, and if anybody can make a good sequel to their 2002 classic, it’s them. I was confident that these guys had a clear vision and a story worth telling, so I couldn’t wait to see how they would expand the universe they created over two decades ago.
28 Years Later was directed by Danny Boyle, and it stars Jodie Comer, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Alfie Williams, and Ralph Fiennes. As the name suggests, this film takes place twenty-eight years after the original movie, and by now, the rage virus has mostly been contained. The only area still affected is the British mainland, which has turned into a barren no man’s land. The infected roam free there, and only a few survivors still inhabit the island. In this world, Spike is a young boy who lives with his father and sick mother in a small community just off the mainland, and one day, he and his father travel to the infected area for what appears to be a rite of passage. They’re going to hunt some zombies, and to the surprise of no one, they get a bit more than they bargained for. As you can probably guess from that plot synopsis, 28 Years Later doesn’t reinvent the wheel. Sure, the setup is slightly different from your typical zombie apocalypse, but once the story moves onto the mainland, it feels very familiar. Like most of its cinematic peers, this film has to draw you in with the unique way it tells its time-honored tale of humans versus the living dead (or, in this case, the infected), and on that count, it’s a disappointing thematic mess. To be fair, on a purely technical level, this movie is quite good. The performances are strong across the board, and Alfie Williams is particularly delightful as Spike. He manages to combine the innocent naivete of a child with the gravitas you’d expect from an adult, so you can’t help but walk away optimistic about this kid’s future. What’s more, 28 Years Later also features fun zombie action. After so many years, the infected have mutated and evolved, so we actually get multiple types of monsters. It’s a clever storytelling choice that keeps the horror fresh from beginning to end, and the makeup effects on these creatures are second to none. On top of all that, for most of the film’s runtime, I even thought it was a home run thematically as well. See, this story presents us with two different ways of viewing the infected. Spike’s father thinks it’s okay to kill the creatures because their minds have completely deteriorated, but another character sees them as human beings equal in dignity to the uninfected. Along similar lines, Spike’s mother suffers from a mysterious illness that at times leaves her in a dementia-like daze, and we have very good reason to think that her husband has stopped loving her because of her condition. Their dynamic creates a clear parallel with the two opposing understandings of the infected, and I was sure 28 Years Later was going to use that parallel to highlight the dignity of every human being regardless of their mental capacities. But it doesn’t. In fact, it just about does the exact opposite. For starters, the movie never explores the ramifications of the more compassionate approach to the infected. Even after Spike is exposed to that view, the kid continues killing zombies like it’s no big deal, so the whole contrast between the two philosophies ends up having almost no narrative consequences. Even worse, the end of 28 Years Later blatantly supports a grave evil that directly undermines the very dignity this film otherwise appears to uphold. One of the characters ends up choosing suicide over enduring a painful death, and when this decision is made, the score and cinematography let you know without a doubt that Danny Boyle thinks it’s the right thing to do. Those directorial choices brazenly glorify this evil act, so the scene completely kills all the thematic good will 28 Years Later garnered in the previous 100 minutes or so. Like I said, it turns the movie into a huge thematic letdown, and coming at a time when England and New York are considering legalizing assisted suicide, it just hurts all the more. And if that’s not enough, the very last scene puts the nail in the coffin. I obviously can’t tell you what happens, but I can say that it feels more like Power Rangers than the 28 Days Later franchise. It’s completely out of place in anything but the most absurdly comedic horror flicks, so when the credits began to roll, I couldn’t run out of the theater fast enough. 28 Years Later turned out to be one of the biggest cinematic disappointments of the year, so if you’re in the mood for a good zombie film, don’t bother with this one. Just go back and watch one of the classics instead. If you’re not a hardcore movie fan, you might not have heard of The Life of Chuck. This isn’t a big-budget blockbuster with a massive marketing machine behind it, and it wasn’t produced by one of the major Hollywood studios. But if you’re a horror aficionado like me, this just might’ve been one of your most anticipated films of the year. It’s based on a short story by Stephen King, and it was made by one of the best filmmakers working in the genre today, Mike Flanagan. Those names form a pretty impressive one-two punch, so from the minute I heard this movie was in the works, I knew I had to check it out. I even thought it had the potential to be an instant classic, and now that I’ve finally seen it, I’m happy to report that I was not disappointed.
The Life of Chuck was written and directed by Mike Flanagan, and it stars Tom Hiddleston, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Karen Gillan, Mia Sara, Carl Lumbly, Benjamin Pajak, Jacob Tremblay, and Mark Hamill. Unlike most of King’s and Flanagan’s works, this film isn’t actually horror. It’s a drama with a touch of fantasy, and it follows the life of an ordinary man named Charles Krantz. Like most ordinary lives, Chuck’s doesn’t have a unified plot that runs throughout his entire existence, so The Life of Chuck doesn’t tell a single, unified story. Rather, it’s just an examination of the guy’s life, and it’s broken up into three distinct chapters–his childhood, his adulthood, and his death (which also brings about the end of the world)–shown in reverse order. As you might be able to tell from that plot synopsis, The Life of Chuck is a very slow burn. In fact, for the whole first act, the movie feels like it just meanders along without much narrative purpose. At best, the story at this point seems like a meditation on humanity’s insignificance in the face of the unfathomable vastness of the universe, and I found that pretty off-putting. Sure, on a purely material level, we are almost imperceptibly small compared to the totality of the created world, but as Catholics, we know our dignity doesn’t depend on our size. Rather, it comes from being made in God’s image, and that’s worth more than an infinity of universes. But when The Life of Chuck moves on to its second act–Chuck’s adulthood–the primary theme appears to shift from the awe-inspiring immensity of the universe to the things that make life worth living. It contains a dance number that’s just dripping with joy and zest for life, and it uses that scene to make the important point that our existence isn’t simply about utility and practicality. Rather, just like Dead Poets Society taught us all those years ago, life is about recognizing the beauty of creation and delighting in it (and, we Catholics would add, delighting in the creator as well). When I realized what this part of the story was saying, it started to bring me around, but I wasn’t entirely convinced yet. I still had a bad taste in my mouth from the opening act, so I couldn’t entirely get on board with the film. It took one more chapter to completely win me over, but when it finally happened, The Life of Chuck became one of my favorite movies of the year so far. I can’t go into any detail without spoiling some of the film’s surprises, but I can say that the final act is a striking celebration of human dignity. It even recontextualizes what I thought was a philosophically immature opening chapter, so by the time the credits began to roll, I realized I had completely misinterpreted that first part of the movie. It’s not about our smallness compared to the universe’s wideness. Rather, the point is that we’re just as big and wondrous on the inside as the entirety of creation is on the outside, and that’s why the world ends when Chuck dies. When he passes away, we lose something just as valuable and just as awe-inspiring as the entire cosmos, and the same will be true of each and every one of us. I’m not sure I can imagine a more striking way to express the vastness of our dignity or the infinite value of our lives, and to the surprise of no one, writer/director Mike Flanagan executes this message just about flawlessly. The acting and cinematography here are first-class from beginning to end, and the score perfectly complements all the emotional beats. In a word, The Life of Chuck is top-notch cinema all around, so if you’re looking for a film that will lift you up and inspire you like few others can, I highly recommend that you check this one out. You won’t be disappointed. |
Jp Nunezis a longtime film buff and theology nerd with master's degrees in theology and philosophy from Franciscan University of Steubenville. His favorite movie genres are horror, superheroes, and giant monsters. Archives
June 2025
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