Why we need 'Mister Rogers' now more than ever

I don't know if I've ever been moved to tears by a movie as quickly as I was while watching the fantastic new documentary about children's entertainer Fred Rogers, Won't You Be My Neighbor? I think my eyes started welling up before the credits had even finished rolling.

I can't say I am totally surprised, the goddamn trailer had me choking up. Like so many kids of my generation, I grew up watching Mister Rogers, loved him, but perhaps didn't fully understand why. Of course, in later years, cynical people would reduce him to a parody, albeit an affectionate one.

What this film does is make plain what a gentle, dedicated soul Rogers was, but also it champions his greatest message (and gift to my generation): that one does not need to be exceptional to be loved.

It's a message I needed to hear, in these politically and personally unsettling times, and I imagine it's a message a lot of adult audiences will benefit from hearing.

Rogers had a real gift. He was able to channel his own childhood angst and insecurity into his performances, which were subtly complex, even if they were conveyed with crude sock puppets. By allowing himself to be tender and vulnerable, children of all different backgrounds and circumstances were able to relate to him, they gravitated towards him, and by all accounts, he never let them down.

What Won't You Be My Neighbor? does is present a wholly alternative version of what it means to "be a man." In an era where coarseness and cruelty have been exalted as demonstrations of strength, Rogers committed to the opposite track with the fidelity of zealot.

He listened. He allowed for silences. He didn't raise his voice. According to the funny and endearing talking heads in the film, he was the genuine article -- a true sweetheart on-screen and off.

That being said, this film wisely is not worshipful. Rogers can seem pompous and judgmental at times. He believed he was the best judge of what children's television should be, which is debatable. And even he struggled with learning to accept a gay co-star's sexual preference.

In other words, he was a human being. But what a human being! There's his steely, emotional testimony before Congress to save funding for PBS... there's his incredibly moving interview with a disabled young boy who was about to receive major surgery .... there's his remarkably intense interactions with Koko the monkey ... this movie is chockfull of an inspiring life well-lived.

Just like The Florida Project, it's a movie that reminded me to never lose touch with my inner child -- there's a value and purity in that worldview. Kids can often be the wisest, most observant people in the world, and Rogers not only understood that he dedicated his life's work to that very principle.

See this film if and when you can. It left me a wreck emotionally, but also inspired the hell out of me. While Rogers has sadly passed away, we need his brand of optimism, love, and empathy to live on and stand as a counter to the climate we're currently living in.

'Never Seen It' - Episode 38 - Taking a crack at 'Crank'

For about two decades, Jason Statham has been a reliable action movie veteran, although it wasn't until fairly recently he hasn't headlined anything that would be considered a blockbuster. Why has he been relegated to the B-list? Is there something uniquely retrograde about his appeal? Perhaps a first time viewing of his cult 2006 film Crank will provide some insight.

On this episode of our 'Never Seen It' podcast, my wife Elizabeth Rosado and I give our hot takes on this pretty over-the-top affair.


Click on the YouTube link below, or check out the podcast on iTunes.

Also, special shout out to Dan D'Agostino for composing our official new theme song!

'The Final Year' provides more proof current POTUS is not normal

It is probably too soon to make a definitive assessment of President Barack Obama's foreign policy achievements, and unfortunately since his successor -- Donald Trump -- has gone to great lengths to undo or negate most of his accomplishments (both domestic and international), it may be even harder for historians to fully grasp how profound his trio of victories on the Paris Climate Accords, the Iranian nuclear deal and the diplomatic outreach to Cuba were.

Even many of Obama's most ardent supporters were taking him for granted when these historic efforts were underway, as much of the nation saw him a lame duck in the shadow of an increasingly bizarre 2016 race to replace him.

Still, the largest takeaway from the stirring, and ultimately sad documentary The Final Year, which covers the whirlwind pace at which Obama, as well as his foreign policy leadership (Samantha Power, Ben Rhodes, Susan Rice and John Kerry) pursued ambitious initiatives during his last months in office, is that for eight years at least we had real professionals doggedly trying to do something substantial, instead of picking petty fights with their rivals.

This was a president to busy to tweet about everything from athletes to acceptance speeches, this was a president keenly aware that his legacy would last beyond a week or an hour, and who wanted to make the most of his time in office rather than revel in his ability to have won it twice against the odds.

Of course, Obama is a figure who has long been more accessible and analyzed, but the foreign policy minds he surrounded himself with are somewhat more unsung. John Kerry for instance, was made into a caricature throughout the 2004 campaign (where he was the Democratic nominee), so much so, that his intellect, expertise and experience as a decorated military veteran is often overlooked.

Former UN ambassador Samantha Power, like so many female policy wonks, has been similarly dehumanized, until you see her getting ready for work and interacting with her kids, just like so many average Americans. She is a human being, as is Ben Rhodes, who strangely has become a popular figure to vilify among the far right fringe, even though he's dedicated his life to public service at an incredibly young age, and seems to simply be an earnest progressive true believer, not some sort of rabble-rousing radical.

An unfortunately glib interview he gave to the New York Times magazine comes back to haunt him a very relatable, human way. And when you look at what he was able to accomplish in thawing relations with Cuba (the one Obama success Trump has yet to undermine), it makes a slightly smug interview seems like small potatoes in comparison.

I can only imagine how this administration would be pilloried for the transgressions of the current one -- from defending white supremacists to repeatedly attacking and mocking a sitting senator dying of brain cancer.

Later, when Samantha Power tears up speaking about the value of the immigrant community, it's hard to imagine a single member of the current administration allowing themselves to be so moved, or to so openly advocate for the greatness of someone other than themselves.

In general, there is a humanity behind the players here, one that seems sorely lacking in the current administration, which seems divided between angry ideologues and people who fear the president's wrath, and therefore flatter him to avoid conflict.

Everything I've ever seen or read about Obama highlights his thoughtfulness, his desire to benefit from an exchange of ideas and differing viewpoints. To his critics, it was a fatal flaw, as they saw a willingness to deliberate as weakness. This of course overlooks the speed with which he ordered action to take out Osama bin Laden, and the risk inherent in that decision.

For me, it's refreshing to hear a president speaks sensitively again, about, for instance, the impact that America's use of the atomic bomb in Hiroshima and Nagasaki had, while also standing firm in his commitment to American security.

It's remarkable how much nuance has been lost in just two years, and even more shocking is how much stupidity, just naked ignorance has become the norm when it comes to policy-making today.

If what the current president says is true -- and Mexico has a robust, thriving economy that is blatantly ripping of the U.S. -- why are supposedly 'millions' of migrants fleeing the country to come here?

If we are facing a 'crisis' of undocumented immigrants 'pouring' across the border, why are we doing nothing to penalize businesses and corporations that employ undocumented people? Surely, that would be more effective than throwing entire families in jail, which contrary to what right wing propaganda is telling you -- is happening.

Whether you supported President Obama and his policies or not, you can't watch The Final Year and reach the conclusion that presidents don't matter, that elections don't matter. We had a serious foreign policy once, we had people who cared about more than lining their own pockets running the show. And we can have it again, if we fight for it. It's worth fighting for.

How horror in the eye of the beholder: The 'Hereditary' backlash

Every once and a while, a movie comes out that the critics embrace but audiences find divisive, and eventually that disparate reaction metastasizes into a much more unpleasant self-fulfilling kind of public debate where you are either for or against a film, and either side bitterly resents the other.

This happened with La La Land. It happened with The Last Jedi, and more recently Solo. And now, for some reason, it's happening with the critically acclaimed horror movie Hereditary.

I was listening to a podcast this morning, which I usually enjoy, and then towards the end the host and guest began to mercilessly rip the movie -- calling it unintentionally funny and a poorly constructed mess.

It was as if they had seen a completely different movie than I did. Not only did I really enjoy Hereditary (and found parts of it quite scary), I felt like it had some real originality and staying power, which is sometimes rare in a genre movie. I thought Toni Collette gave an Oscar-worthy lead performance, and I thought the ending -- which certainly unconventional -- was worth stewing over.

I knew that audiences had been cooler on the movie than critics, and I chalked a lot of that up to people coming into the movie with very strong expectations that were not borne out. I guess I just don't approach movies that way. I saw the trailer, thought it looked real creepy, and I largely avoided reviews because I didn't want anything spoiled for me.

The final result couldn't disappoint in some ways because I didn't really have any specific expectations. The movie surprised me and involved me, and I was happy to have seen it. And now, I find myself in the strange position for having to defend my fandom for it, which is a real bummer.

It seems nowadays there are no films that there is a consensus around, but maybe there never were. I remember for a while Mad Max: Fury Road was the one recent film I could remember seeing that I never heard any detractors for, but then I met one at a party and thought -- yup, that one too.

Of course, there were haters for The Godfather and Star Wars in their day too, but there is something more malicious about opinions now, it's as if it's not enough to say a movie didn't work for you personally, you now must denounce the idea of a movie working for anyone, and suggest that if you do like a movie you must me an idiot.

With horror especially, I feel like the experience is so subjective. The Shining -- my favorite movie of all time -- is technically a scary movie, but I have met plenty of people who have casually dismissed it as not scary. It's definitely more a film concerned with a psychological mood than jump scares. It had only one death in it and a truly strange, ambiguous ending.

I know horror fans who are much more turned on by or freaked out by excessive, cartoonish gore. I know people who are more into spooky, supernatural stuff. And I know people who like more visceral, realistic body horror. And of course, some people like all of it.

Hereditary, which ambitiously (or foolishly, depending on your point of view) tries to combine both a somber family drama with a a conspiratorial, Rosemary's Baby-like possession plot line, is certainly not everyone's cup of tea when it comes to scary movies. Like I said in my earlier review, if you're looking for more of an audience pleaser -- A Quiet Place is the movie for you.

But, it's hard for me to understand completely dismissing the virtues of this film just because it doesn't conform to the expectations laid out in its trailer or live up the critical hype putting it on the same level as genre classics like The Exorcist.

I will concede that maybe not every movie in the moment works, that it's imperfect, but haters I think should also be able acknowledge that some or many elements might work for other viewers, if not themselves. For instance, I think the movie has an intentional, very subtle sense of humor -- it wants to be dip a toe into absurdity, very much the same way The Shining does -- that may not work for a lot of people, it worked for me.

What bums me out the most about this kind of scorched earth approach to weighing in on movies is that it discourages viewers from having their own unique experience with material. Now, more often than not, I talk to people who never give certain films a chance because they "heard they were terrible," and I am always disappointed to hear that excuse.

I am more appreciative of people who say 'I don't like scary movies' because that feels like a more honest representation of your own bias as a filmgoer, but to simply savage a movie that didn't appeal to you personally and to cast doubt on the judgment on anyone who did like it, seems hostile and irredeemably smug.

I'll give you a good example. A good friend of mine loves the 2004 Halle Berry Catwoman. I tease her about it mercilessly. I have seen it. I watched it a bit ironically since by the time I got around to it, the film was widely recognized as a massive dud. And I had fun with it as camp, although I indeed thought it was terrible. Still, I don't think less of my friend or her taste because she enjoys it.

Clearly, something about that film speaks to her and hits her sweet spot, and since that film isn't some sort of insidious piece of propaganda promoting fascistic ideals, I don't see there being any particular harm in her enjoying it.

In this social media age we're living in, where everyone has a hot take, it's hard to avoid very strong, contrarian opinion. I just wish there a willingness to respect that divergent opinions about films are welcome and interesting, and that time will ultimately do wonders for our sense of a film's quality.

Today, there are people who have re-approached Showgirls as a hidden masterpiece. There are even people who see redemptive qualities in the Star Wars prequels (even though I am not one of them). My point is all these opinions are valid -- film can't and shouldn't belong to any one person or be subjected to any singular point of view. It's only entertainment!

'Ocean's 8' is solid fun, but the cast deserves a better movie

I am a diehard fan of the original Ocean's trilogy, yes, even Twelve. So I went into the female-led reboot -- Ocean's Eight -- with cautious optimism. After having seen it, I can say I had a lot of fun watching it, it's better than I expected it to be, but also not as great as the first heist films in the universe, despite the fact that the cast is game and all terrific.

There is nothing overtly wrong with this movie. The central heist is entertaining, there are some solid laughs throughout, it looks amazing -- but something just felt lacking.

Perhaps some of the blame goes to director Gary Ross, a competent but far less dynamic director than Steven Soderbergh who leant a jaunty, inventive storytelling style of his Ocean's films. Although the team in this film is actually smaller, the characters feel thinner and less developed. The motivation for the scheme here is also not that strong, and there is barely any real tension in terms of whether or not the heroes will succeed.

And yet, there is so much to enjoy in this movie -- especially, and this surprised me, Anne Hathaway, who does a stellar job (and steals the movie) as an incredibly vapid actress who may or may not be the stooge that this new Ocean crew is using as a pawn to help steal some multi-million dollar jewels.

Another huge bright spot is Sandra Bullock, who has seemed pretty absent from movies for the last few years, and reminds us here what a bright, charismatic movie star she is. Her early scenes in the film almost feel like a movie unto themselves, where she runs several short cons seamlessly in a way that is both effortlessly sexy and irresistible. She is the ideal female facsimile of George Clooney.

Unfortunately, as the film's plot unfolds she feels somewhat sidelined by the action. The same goes for a never-more-stunning Cate Blanchett, who gives off a feisty, sensual energy that is electric but has little to do in this movie besides occasionally casting doubt on Bullock's master plan.

But really everyone in this movie is lovable as hell -- Rihanna smarts deadpans her way through this, Helena Bonham Carter and Sara Paulson are also note perfect. Probably only Mindy Kaling feels like the only star lacking in significant screen time, but the seemingly inevitable sequel could rectify that misstep.

As far as that goes, I do think this film avoids the mistake the women-led Ghostbusters made. It doesn't try to totally remake an established classic or ignore that it exists. This very much takes place in the world of the first three adventures, with a couple of welcome cameos from a couple of old favorites.

I am not thrilled with the way the movie handles one crucial member of the original franchise, but I could also see that plot choice being more of a red herring that will be revealed in future installments. Also, James Corden -- while amusing -- sort of takes over the third act of this movie as an investigator in what should be just a cameo, but winds up soaking up a lot of screen time that would be better served by focusing on the women in the cast. It might have worked if he was a truly threatening antagonist, but he's not.

I guess you can see a theme here. I kept thinking while I was watching this movie -- I can't wait for the next one. It just felt like a rough draft or a trial run at times. It was funny, just not hilarious. It was entertaining, but never exciting. The stakes in the original Ocean's movies felt higher, and this just seems so much smaller scaled.

And yet, I found this cast of characters delightful, and kept thinking -- they're onto something here. With a better script, better director and a little more creative juice and I think they might have a franchise that can stand toe-to-toe with the best of the first three movies. I'm definitely going to line up for it.

Must-see 'Hereditary' is both haunting and horrifying

Hereditary, the absolutely fantastic new horror film directed by Ari Aster, is a little like the anti-A Quiet Place. As much as I enjoyed that blockbuster breakout hit, it was a pretty straightforward, gimmicky exercise, albeit expertly done.

But Hereditary is looking to create far more insidious scares, the kind that creep into your dreams long after the movie is over.

I was heartened to see that the film opened well enough this past weekend, but saddened to learn that despite universal rave reviews, the movie is getting completely trashed by audiences (early reports showed a D+ Cinemascore).

I wish I could be surprised by that reaction, but unfortunately when it comes to genre films, particularly horror, mainstream audiences just don't seem to want anything thought-provoking or ambiguous. Hereditary owes much more of its DNA to a movie like The Shining than a slasher pic or even a crowd-pleaser like The Sixth Sense.

It's plot is complicated, its pacing deliberate and its resolution anything but comforting. Of course, I think that's why it's a great film, but maybe audiences just wanted jump scares, who knows?

Now, the movie is plenty scary -- but it almost just a really compelling family drama that happens to have some disturbing supernatural elements in it. Without spoiling to much, it's about a disintegrating family coping with the loss of a loved one and whose fraying bonds are exacerbated by more tragedy both real and surreal.

Anchoring everything is a truly remarkable Toni Collette performance.

She yet again shows off her ability to abandon vanity and test audience sympathies with a role that ranges from deeply moving to almost comically manic. The underrated Gabriel Byrne is her strong, quiet counterpart alongside their increasingly isolated children, played believably by Alex Wolff and Milly Shapiro.

The disintegration of this family coincides with a real corrosive sense of dread conveying without any tricks but just some very ominous scoring, cinematography and editing. As the plot starts to click in and the premise gets more fantastical, it all feels utterly convincing because the film has taken the time to really establish its characters and its world.

In it's last act, the film will definitely recall Rosemary's Baby for a lot of viewers, and its best it does reach the same paranoid heights as that film. I'm not entirely sure how well some of its plot elements hold together under close scrutiny, but I was on the edge of my seat throughout the movie and I think even if initial audiences reject it because it doesn't deliver what they expect from a horror film, others will embrace it for being as emotionally rich and satisfying as it is.

At a time when so many horror films, including quite a few thrilling ones, aren't really about anything, this movie is very much trying to say something about how death can terrorize a family, how familial pain can haunt us for years and nothing is more frightening -- sometimes -- than family.

This may be a truth too intense for some audiences to face. While Hereditary isn't particularly gory, it does have sequences that are hard to watch, but I wholeheartedly recommend it for anyone who likes movies that have the ambition to at least try to blow your mind, because I think this movie when it's clicking on all cylinders, can.

'RBG' is an incredibly moving tribute to a worthy icon

Normally, I would argue that the greatest sin a biographical documentary can commit is being too unabashedly adoring of its subject. And yet, RBG, which is essentially a highlight reel of the iconic Supreme Court justice's remarkable life and career, routinely had me on the brink of tears. And then, eventually, I'll admit I did shed a few.

Besides gently chiding her for coming out against Trump during the 2016 election, the movie basically serves to exalt Justice Ginsburg, but it does so with such wit, substance and sensitivity that I can't quibble with it. In fact, it should be required viewing for anyone who thinks they despise her.

Ironically, the film opens with the voices of her right wing detractors and its almost immediately comical that this tiny, soft-spoken women can be so demonized. The film presents her, accurately, as a dedicated public servant, a loving wife and mother, and most importantly, as a fierce lifelong advocate for the equality of women.

To put it bluntly, Ginsburg's personal  and professional character are unassailable, and it is the strength of her convictions and thoughtfulness that leave a lasting impression long after the credits roll on this film.

The fact that she has become a meme and feminist icon are dealt with amusingly enough, but it's when RBG delves into the nitty gritty of both the discrimination she face throughout her career, and which she fought in the courts that it really finds its footing.

Ginsburg's voice, sweet, yet steely, is riveting and her unshakable conscious is inspiring. I will never forget her invaluable life lesson that yelling will never bring your opponent to your side. Her dissents may be blistering, but they are motivated by love and a desire to reach understanding, not necessarily bitterness or anger.

Meanwhile, the ace up the movie's sleeve is Ginsburg's inspiring marriage to Martin Ginsburg, the one man in her law school class who appreciated her brains as well as her beauty. There's is a truly lovely romance -- two opposites bringing out the best in each other, while never giving into petty jealousies or insecurities.

At a time when few men would, Justice Ginsburg's husband willingly took a back seat to his wife's ambitions, and their lives (and in effect ours) are all richer for it.

RBG the movie is pretty traditional fare. Talking heads abound (Ginsburg's childhood friends steal the show), lots of great archival footage and sound from oral arguments before the Supreme Court, but the biggest breakout star is the soft spoken justice herself.

Whether at the opera, working out vigorously in the gym or giggling at her portrayal on Saturday Night Live, she comes across as a totally sharp and strikingly beautiful person. For all the speculation about her future, or lack thereof, we should all be grateful that this film exists and a living, lasting document of all she does and continues to do.

In a time where talk is often a substitute for tangible action, this is a woman who's life's work not only speaks volumes but helped change lives -- and for the better.

'Purple Rain' and how problematic films of the past are helpful

On Sunday, my wife did something incredible -- she surprised me on my birthday by booking a theater at our local Alamo Drafthouse, wrangled a bunch of my friends, and held a special screening of the classic Prince movie Purple Rain. I was feeling down about turning the age I've turned -- and this was just the kind of exuberant change of pace I needed.

It was an amazing experience -- my second time seeing the movie in that format -- and just an incredibly thoughtful and touching thing to have happen, period. As a diehard Prince fan, the movie has always been essential viewing to me, even if there are elements of the film that are impossibly dated, and even worse, profoundly problematic.

I found myself, almost defensively, warning first time viewers that the film's rampant misogyny and unsubtle handling of domestic violence were likely to offend, while grappling with the fact that despite its clear defects -- I love this movie.

I recall afterwards someone telling me they'd never seen a film quite like it, and I think it's an accurate description. It's not really a musical or a necessarily grounded, realistic film. There are autobiographical elements (Clarence Williams III's cryptic "never get married" warning was allegedly delivered to Prince by his real life father) but it's not a biopic by any means.

Viewing it this time, with so many friends who had never seen it, really was like watching it with fresh eyes for the first time. And it was illuminatig to hear  relatively nuanced reactions from the first time viewers. They understood that context is key to viewing a film like this, some thirty-plus years after its initial release.

The conversations we're thankfully finally starting to have about consent and harassment, etc. were simply not happening in the mainstream in 1984. That doesn't excuse awful behavior but it does provide some explanation for why it's there.

And, in Purple Rain's defense, it does attempt to (admittedly not in a sophisticated way) present a link between Prince's character's abusive, controlling tendencies and the behavior of his father (played by Williams III in a performance I appreciate more and more every time I see it) towards his own mother.

I don't think the film ever quite condones what Prince is doing -- even if it does provide a forced happy ending where the violence Prince directs towards his girlfriend Apollonia is never directly addressed or apologized for (as gorgeous as it is, the title song ballad can't make up for a physical assault) -- which sets it apart for quite of few other films of that period where our 'heroes' hit women with impunity to 'calm them down' or to 'shut them up' whenever the plot called for it.

Films like this, and Saturday Night Fever (which also is steeped in toxic culture) are entertaining to be sure, but also instructive. They put the eras in which they were made in tighter focus and perspective, but also offer valuable evidence of just how backwards male mindsets were and often still are.

For many women, this may be a no brainer -- certainly, nothing new. But I am willing to bet that for many people movies like this can represent a culture shock. Apollonia has almost no agency in this movie, she is both literally and figuratively commodified. She is such a striking presence, so she doesn't exactly lose her dignity in the movie, but if it were to be re-made in some form today the way she was portrayed then would have been totally unacceptable and with good reason.

Prince, as mercurial as he is and was, often comes across as creepy when he should be cute -- although the sex appeal and powers of his onstage performances in the movie will likely never diminish. It's almost impossible to imagine a pop star allowing themselves to come across as possessive and condescending as he does here, but in 1984 I can easily see the studio thrusting these stereotypically masculine bad behaviors onto him, perhaps to contrast his androgynous persona.

Meanwhile, Apollonia does the kind of obligatory nude scene you don't really see leading ladies do anymore (unless it serves a plot function), she is never really given much of a backstory or motivation (besides a desire to 'make it') and she doesn't even have a true moment of triumph (unless you count her performance of the laughable but affable "Sex Shooter").

Do these flaws make me love the movie any less? Not really. Prince was just 23 when he made it, so I chalk a lot of this up to his immaturity and naivete amid his first burst of true international superstardom. It's such an incredible distillation of his talent and appeal at that time, and I am going to keep on loving it, while acknowledging that movies like it shouldn't exist anymore and if they have to they're going to need a real serious re-write.

The 'Solo' media narrative and my bday wish for movies

It's official. Solo is a flop. Or at least that's what the insider media coverage will say after its earned only about $150 million dollars in two weeks. Forget for a moment that that total alone would represent a solid to huge hit for a normal movie -- but in this age of blockbusters that must globally dominate, it is by all means a failure in relation to its cost.

Now, I can't help but to note the apparent glee with which box office prognosticators have declared this film dead on arrival (especially since it missed bullish prediction estimates in the $130-150 million range).

It's almost as if anyone who is sick of Star Wars and/or had a bone to pick with the polarizing The Last Jedi, has decided to feel vindicated because of Solo's relative failure.

I actually quite liked Solo. It certainly has its narrative flaws. And, there is a solid, and compelling case to be made that it never needed to be made. Hopefully, that's Disney's takeaway from the relative disappointment of the movie -- that not every side story needs to be told -- and that some sacred cows are maybe best left alone (for instance, there are rumors that the company wanted to make a Leia prequel, God, I hope not).

That said, this movie was far from the disaster some people were predicting before it even opened. Sure the on set drama (firing directors Chris Lord and Phil Miller and replacing them with Ron Howard) created really bad buzz -- but similar buzz didn't derail popular hits like Rogue One and Ant-Man. At least, not much.

Personally, I think the crowded marketplace and the too much too soon issue were far more prevalent here. Yes, the reviews were not across the board stellar, but they were about on par with Rogue One and certainly no worse than some of the reviews the beloved Star Wars trilogy received. And since when did Star Wars fanatics place so much stake in reviews? The Last Jedi was the best reviewed Star Wars film in years and that didn't stop a legion of haters turning into the most hotly debated blockbuster of recent years.

I think we just peaked early this year with blockbusters -- from Black Panther to A Quiet Place to Infnity War and then Deadpool 2, people just weren't ready for this kind of movie at this particular moment. I am convinced it'd have played better in December (which is has become the new Star Wars de facto release month) but alas we'll never know.

It seems highly unlikely to me (since this movie may barely break even or turn a profit) that they'll be more Solo films -- which is a shame since I think there was real potential there for a couple more adventures. And, I wonder if the floated Lando Calrissian movie will happen now that Solo has underperformed. Disney is apparently still going forward with their Kenobi and Boba Fett projects but I'm curious if they'll be more stripped down, lowkey affairs. That wouldn't bother me.

I will say, this whole episode has exemplified what I hate about what movies have become. Box office becomes a self-fulfilling thing. Now, millions of people will skip seeing Solo in the theaters because they 'heard' it wasn't good or because it "didn't do very well."

Because we don't release movies the same way we used to, almost nothing has a chance to build an audience or be re-discovered. Basically, after two weekends, this film has shot its wad, and history will likely look unkindly on it as Disney overreaching.

Today, is my birthday. I love the movies, they're come to very much define a big part of my 36 years on this early. I sincerely wish for my bday this year that Hollywood would start pushing back on this nonsense. Both Blade Runner films are masterpieces, and both didn't make as much money as they were supposed to -- so what should matter more?

No, Solo is no masterpiece. But I really do think its a film true Star Wars fans will appreciate and have fun with, as well as more casual audiences. I'm also not entirely sure a better Han Solo backstory film could have been made.

I'm not naive. I know that cinema is a commercially driven business and at a cost of $300 million (plus marketing), Solo is going to come up way short. But with so much of what we enjoy culturally being reduced to a zero-sum game, I just wish quality over quantity was still sacred.