Jacob Sahms

Prequels are tricky things. They come with the baggage of expectations based on the films that at one time exist as THE story and eventually become the later portions of the story once the prequels take root. Sci-fi fans have seen this played out in the prequels of the Star Wars films, and now, thanks to Amazon and Jeff Bezos’ love for J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middle Earth, fantasy fans will again explore the prospect with The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power, having already embraced The Hobbit trilogy.

Having just tackled the extended versions of the six movies with my son, I was eager to see how the series would handle a world before the world we think we know. From my son’s perspective, watching the Hobbit trilogy first, and then the LOTR films, the final arc of Tolkien’s story was more exciting. So what can we make of the prequel before the prequel? Would it hold up? Would it engage fans?

With a pair of advance episodes, it’s clear that the production quality is on par with Peter Jackson’s films. That’s thanks to the developmental work of J. D. Payne and Patrick McKay, as well as composer Bear McCreary, and the acting of an international cast that begins a story spread out in several different perspectives.

Unlike the original films that largely showed us the original Fellowship’s perspective, Rings of Power launches us on the various paths of characters that we’ve heard of before and some we haven’t, against detailed created sets and the beautifully lush countryside of New Zealand. Some of the characters are more interesting than others – warriors who recognize that there’s evil lurking in the shadow, even if they can’t see it; wise elders who counsel patience; young ones who long to explore what could be versus what they’ve been told is all there is. It’s classic Tolkien, told by modern storytellers.

And yet – the heart of Tolkien’s works remains the battle between good and evil, and the individual’s opportunity to choose. Like Gandalf’s words to Frodo, ““All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us,” each of these newly-depicted characters has a journey with divergent paths. Some will choose well; others will not. But in the prehistory of the world, free will is the greatest gift – lifted straight from the pages of the Old Testament for our consideration, transposed to the world of Tolkien’s Middle Earth.

With just a few episodes considered, I’ll offer this final caveat. I’ve been a fan of both Tolkien and George R.R. Martin, of their written work and the cinematic interpretations. In a span of just a few weeks, watching prequels from each world with HBO’s Game of Thrones prequel hot off of the press as well, I found myself lagging in zeal for one, and eager to see what happens next in the other. Maybe it’s true – there is one ring to rule them all.

Paws of Fury is the best animated film – maybe one of the best films period – I’ve seen in the last several years. The Legend of Hank tells the story of Hank (Michael Cera), a wannabe samurai who is cursed with being the wrong species – a dog – in a land where only cats become samurai. Mentored unwillingly by the recluse Jimbo (Samuel L. Jackson in all of his animated snarkiness), Hank must face down an evil conspiracy led by Ika Chu (Ricky Gervais), a civil servant who isn’t civil at all as he works to drive the cats of Kakamucho out of their village. In a story that blends feudal Japan with spaghetti westerns, Blazing Saddles, and a rivalry as old as time between cats and dogs, Paws of Fury delivers an adventure that’s fun for the whole family.

Let’s check a few boxes off, and get to the next level of discussion: Paws has snappy animation, an awesome voice cast that includes George Takei, Mel Brooks, Gabriel Iglesias, Djimon Hounsou, and Michelle Yeoh, a sense of humor that includes enough fart jokes for the younger kids and witty comebacks for the adults, and a storyline that allows anyone who has ever since a western to know there’s a showdown coming. All of that works. But the reality is that the film wants to dive deeper, too.

There’s discrimination involved, as Hank is told he isn’t welcome because he’s a dog and that no one can understand him (even though they can). It’s assumed he can’t provide anything admirable or worthwhile to society just because he’s not one of them. The flip side is that it’s assumed that Chu must be reliable just because he’s a cat, and it takes another cat stepping up to finally reveal that Chu isn’t actually a good cat.

There’s an element about being new in the community that works, because Hank doesn’t know how to do things and no one seems all that keen on making him feel welcome. In my experience as a pastor arriving at a new church, there’s a lot to be said for a welcome committee! Whether it’s a new job, or arriving at a new home in a new community, the reception you receive goes a long way to making you comfortable (or not). The story does talk about it a little, but it mostly shows us.

And then there’s my favorite (I think!) element: everyone needs discipleship. Hank needs a mentor but Jimbo doesn’t want to be a mentor. From a faith perspective, this is a crucial element of what it means to be a Christian. Jesus said in Matthew 28 to go into the world and make disciples; it’s a foundational element of what the church is supposed to be about! But too often we get hung up on hanging out with the people we’re already comfortable with, who are already part of our group, who are known to us. It’s important for them to grow as disciples but we’re supposed to make new ones!

I’ll throw in one last one for free: the discrimination isn’t just about cats and dogs. What Paws does wonderfully is show that everyone has the capacity to be a samurai with the right heart and the right training. I won’t spoil how that plays out, but it’s important to note that the film doesn’t spend the entire time trying to convince us that Hank is a hero. There are other heroes, too. [I’ll give you a hint: go read Jeremiah 1!]

Paws of Fury entertained the theater full of parents and children (and teenagers!) I was with a week ago, but better yet, it left me thinking about what it means to lead, to mentor, and to act with courage in the face of criticism. Two giant paw-sized thumbs up!

Opulent-spending David and Jo Henninger (Ralph Fiennes and Jessica Chastain) are vacationing in Morocco when they commit a tragic accident. Director John Michael McDonagh’s cinematic translation of Lawrence Osborne’s book of the same name reveals the way that the events ripple out through their collection of rich friends in Morroco, and the villagers whose lives they impact.

The film itself is cinematically impressive, with Lorne Balfe’s score beautifully setting the tone of melancholy and hopelessness. The obvious disdain that the Henningers and their hosts led by Richard Galloway (Matt Smith) have for the locals is infuriating. The Westerners look down on the language, the culture, the faith, the family of the locals , and flaunt their wealth like a weapon. These people are ridiculous, and despicable, really. They don’t recognize that just because the locals are different that they’re not less than them, not less civilized or smart or worthy of respect and love.

I remember a scene in the second season of Jack Ryan, where a local arms dealer tells Ryan that he wonders what his life would’ve looked like if he’d been born in America. Here, Anouar (Mourad Zaoui) announces to Henninger that he doesn’t really understand Morocco. “You think I like the camels and palm trees? No, I dream of Sweden… a fantastic place by the looks of it, the place I would most like to live. But the world never promised any man anything, and no man ever lived the way he wished.”

The Henningers and their friends see the world from their privileged mountaintop and assume everything can be bought or sold, economically evaluated on a sliding scale of morality. If you have enough money, you can make everything alright; everyone just wants more money, right? But there are other values, some might argue better ones, in place that they can’t wrap their minds around.

Ultimately, the film is a straightforward morality tale that has no heroes, only victims and perpetrators. It’s well done, but by no means enjoyable.

“What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?” (Mark 8:36)

Liam Neeson has mastered the art of growling his lines out, reflective of the persona he has been developing since he dropped Taken on us, and the particular set of skills he unleashed on traffickers who threatened his daughter. Yes, he’s deviated from the norm with Silence and Ordinary Love, but Run All Night, A Walk Among Tombstones, The Marksman, The Commuter, Cold Pursuit, Honest Thief, etc. all find Neeson serving up an over-the-hill cop/assassin/soldier vibe while facing down a bad situation that only he seems aware of/capable of stopping. In Memory, Neeson’s Alex Lewis deals most accurately with his aging body, and in this case, his failing ability to remember.

One more wrinkle in the typical Neeson genre these days is that his character is usually not really good, but either longing to change or realizing that he has to atone for his sins. In this case, Lewis is an assassin for a criminal organization that may or may not be a cartel, who refuses to execute a child and finds himself up against the organization and the FBI. (Now, just for a moment’s amusement – let’s recognize that this guy kills people for business, but his moral compass causes him to protect a child and defend the dignity of a prostitute in a hotel simply because the drunk john she’s propositioning proves to be too loud. Apparently the church doesn’t have a monopoly on the hierarchy of sin; Liam Neeson vehicles have them, too!)

When Lewis refuses to murder a young girl who is in the protective custody of FBI Agent Vincent (Guy Pearce) but ends up involved in the investigation, Vincent and his partners (Harold Torres and Taj Atwal) begin tracking the bodies that Lewis and others are piling up. As Lewis investigates the connections behind those who hired him and the young woman, he realizes that there’s a bigger conspiracy at work that extends into law enforcement, covering up a trafficking ring that also involves issues with immigration.

It’s hard not to watch Memory and think of Pearce’s career-breaking film Memento, the film that also put Christopher Nolan on the map twenty years ago. Pearce’s Leonard Shelby knows next-to-nothing as the film opens, while Neeson’s Lewis begins to lose what he does know. They both write themselves clues on their arm – and both of them begin to question their methods and their own madness. But it allows them to explore their decisions from other angles, rather than living moment-by-moment without stopping to question “why.”

While Neeson is spinning out similar movies, this is his best since Tombstones, and certainly projects a greater awareness of social issues than his earlier films. It’s a secondary take on some of the issues raised in Marksman, but James Bond (and The Mask of Zorro) director Martin Campbell provides more depth in the development of the feelings around why Vincent and Lewis end up on the same page. It’s not fantastic, but definitely palatable – and even a little thought-provoking in a passing way.

I’m aware that Memory is a remake of the Belgian thriller, The Alzheimer Case, but the inflections are different with the American/Mexican border involved – and the growth of human trafficking. One can hope we would learn from our past and fight off the evil that threatens, but in the case of Memory, we’re reminded that the system is too often set up to justify sin and protect the rich.

It’s worth remembering the next time we consider making a selfish decision, or better yet, when we vote.

While I’ve never read any of Australian author Aaron Blabey’s books for kids, the animated trailer for Universal Pictures’ The Bad Guys was full of flashy characters and witty one-liners, drawing me into its flair. Watching the film provided an additional realization: there’s plenty of heart behind the Dreamworks animation of Mr. Wolf, Ms. Tarantula, Mr. Snake, Mr. Piranha, and Mr. Shark.

In what seems a clear nod to Reservoir Dogs, the characters that make up the gang of thieves are simply named by their animal nature. [As an aside, the deep-running undercurrent of the film ultimately asks if any of us can really overcome our animal nature, but I’ll get to that later.] Voiced by Sam Rockwell, Awkwafina, Marc Maron, Anthony Ramos, and Craig Robinson, the characters show a different degree of indifference toward doing good and a strong set of skills in terms of doing bad, a la other crime films like Ocean’s Eleven.

While the Bad Guys have been wreaking havoc and driving the police crazy for years, Wolf meets his match in the foxy persona of the new mayor, Diane Foxington (Zazie Beetz). She’s willing to give the Bad Guys a second chance under the watchful eye of philanthropist Rupert Marmalade (Richard Ayoade), a guinea pig who sells Foxington on the theory that the Bad Guys only need to practice doing good to become good. Hijinks ensue.

The direct-to-the-camera speaking, the clever blend of physical and verbal humor, and the incredibly articulated animations of the characters are all worth noting. I’ll admit that while I expected COVID-19 to send a wave of computer-animated films to market, not all of them have held my attention; The Bad Guys is the best animated story that I’ve seen in several years. But the the beautiful animation isn’t just eye-catching though: it advances the story’s heart – that no one is beyond redeemable.

Do you really believe a person can change? That’s at the heart of the film – and as people of faith, it’s something we say we believe in but too often fail to accept as true. Let’s face it: we’re judgy! We have a hierarchy of sin (either admittedly or subconsciously) and there are certain situations and certain people that we find unforgivable. That’s not what Jesus said – but it’s how we operate sometimes. That’s what makes The Bad Guys such a beautiful story, and what sets it apart from some of its contemporary films.

The Bad Guys is a laugh out-loud funny experience for the whole family, with fleshed out characters and a plot to match. Better yet, it might just challenge you to give yourself, or someone else, another chance.

Best known for playing Sam Anderson on The Walking Dead, Major Dodson has also appeared in Revolution and American Horror Story. This March, he’s starring in Kim Bass’ Tyson’s Run as an autistic teenager named Tyson, alongside Amy Smart, Rory Cochrane, and Layla Felder. As a homeschooled student trying to find his way at the high school where his father teaches, Dodson’s Tyson discovers passion and skill as he trains for a marathon under the watchful eye of Barkhad Abdi’s coach.

As a six year old in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, Dodson first found himself as a local theater actor in the midst of A Christmas Carol. He’s obsessed over sharks and Transformers, but at the time, he loved trains and says, “I could’ve told you anything about locomotives.” When Robert Zemeckis’ version of the Charles Dickens story ended up showing off memorabilia alongside an Amtrak showcase, his mother decided maybe Dodson would enjoy acting as they adapted to his newly-minted autism diagnosis. Discovering that the local theater would guarantee a spot as long as the person auditioning sang a song, Dodson said that he’d sing Abba’s “Thank You For the Music” but he’d only sing one word and refused to dance! Cast as Tiny Tim, Dodson’s acting career was born.

Playing an autistic teenager, Dodson says that a significant amount of what the audience sees is acting, but he admits that he can relate to Tyson. “I struggled with social queues and was never the cool kid,” he says. “I lingered my way through school, made a few friends, and just wasn’t really a socially conscious kid. Therapy helped, but I had terrible motor skills. Tyson goes through a lot of growth to get where he is, and I did, too.”

Dodson says that he didn’t experience the level of frustration and judgment that Tyson does, notably from his father. “I’ve had a lot of support,” he shares. “There’s no way I could do the hobbies I enjoy without help, recognizing I am who I am and have the ability to function as an adult.”

The young actor, now eighteen, talks freely and easily about his diagnosis and his experience, recognizing that it changes how he sees the world but acknowledging his adaptations. At six, the diagnosis of his attention span – the ability to have a conversation with an adult while maintaining eye contact – was ten seconds; he credits his family and friends for having helped him get to where he is in the moment, even interviewing with a stranger.

That’s not all that Dodson has adapted either. He’s a graduate of high school via homeschool online, and is pursuing a college degree in business, while also interning at a music production facility to learn how to use his music studio equipment more effectively and learning a business ethic. He’s a success story, and his success comes with a pleasant blend of humility and excitement about where he’s come from and where he’s going.

“I have been doing interviews for a little while, and I was being interviewed by a father of two neurodivergent daughters,” recounts Dodson. “One of them came in while we were talking, and he asked her what she thought of the movie. She said she saw something of herself in Tyson.”

“I had worried it wouldn’t be realistic, or relatable, that I would do something to cause offense. It was gratifying to hear that she felt that way.”

Dodson also learned the physicality of running while preparing for the film. He says exercise before might’ve included biking to a friend’s house, or getting out of bed. But in the months leading up to his marathon performance, he ran at the local high school and then at a local gym. He wanted to make sure his performance worked, that it didn’t let the film or its message about overcoming obstacles down.

For Major Dodson, learning to run with endurance was just one more obstacle to conquer.

Tyson’s Run debuts in theaters on March 11.

Director Matthew Vaughn and Ralph Fiennes have reunited a third time for The King’s Man, their prequel to 2014’s Kingsman: The Secret Service and 2017’s Kingsman: The Golden Circle. Based on characters created by Mark Millar and Dave Gibbons in their graphic novel, the prequel takes Orlando Oxford (Fiennes) back to his wife’s murder, and the events which led to the founding of the service and the transition of Oxford from reformed soldier-turned-pacifist to the fighting sensation audiences have seen in the prior installments.

After the over-the-top ridiculousness of the second film, The King’s Man comes across as reasonably, well, reasonable. Events that happened in the real world, like the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and the influence of Grigori Rasputin in Russia, impact the formation of Oxford’s worldview – and the relationship he has with his son, Conrad (Harris Dickinson). Oxford wants to live a life of pacifism, while also investigating the goings-on of the world secretively, even as Conrad’s sense of patriotism grows. Conrad wants to fight in the First World War, and his father continues to fight against his desires.

Oxford’s estate is spacious – one of the ways that Vaughn’s eye for filmmaking sets up the opulence of Oxford’s privilege – but it’s also tweaked by the watchful eyes of his two servants, Polly (Gemma Arterton) and Shoa (Djimon Hounsou). These two serve as bodyguards, teachers, and confidants of young Conrad, and factor into the action that takes place when Oxford is pushed into the fray with the fate of the world at stake.

A shady “Shepherd” lurks on the other side of the global conflict, pushing and pulling the buttons of worldwide leaders of the various world powers like Vladmir Lenin, Woodrow Wilson, and others. Rasputin (Rhys Ifans) certainly comes across as the most ridiculous of the Kingsman enemies echoing the previous films, but for the most part, the film plays out like a B-level action film sprinkled with the sad realization that grief and pain often push us toward a life we’d rather avoid. In fact – the loss of family is what causes Oxford to renounce pacifism and take up violence again, undercutting his previous decisions, and making it apparent that vengeance too often clouds our judgment.

Fiennes’ portrayal of Oxford stands as the most solid part of the film. He’s as efficient as a violent Liam Neeson-type soldier as he is playing the grieving father, the wise counsel, the pacifying politician. He’s the reason the audience stays engaged, even if the plot ultimately doesn’t break much new ground. It just feels like the producers decided to go prequel because The Golden Circle was so preposterously bad.

Waging a war between pacificism and violence, combat with actions versus conflict with words, the safety of home and the mystery of the outside, The King’s Man finally settles on violence as the answer to the problems. It’s mathematical reality based on Oxford’s piled-up losses, but it leaves the character alone, wounded, and vengeful. That’s what makes the film entertaining, but in the end, forgettable.

Author of Abe: Abraham Lincoln in His Times, David S. Reynolds’ award-winning book serves as the foundation for AppleTV+’s new four-part documentary Lincoln’s Dilemma. From Barrington, R.I., Reynolds’ latest project includes the voices of Jeffrey Wright, Bill Camp, and Leslie Odom Jr. as the narrator, Lincoln, and Frederick Douglass throughout. To hear why he is so passionate about Lincoln, and how the project came about, ScreenFish sat down with Reynolds.

Richard Plepler left HBO for Apple and had always wanted to do something fresh on Lincoln, and heard about Reynolds’ book. “I’m very happy for people to learn about Lincoln and his era, his times,” Reynolds shared. “I studied American Studies at Amherst College, and went to graduate school at Berkeley, and got more and more interested in Lincoln’s era. I wrote books on Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, and Herman Melville, and they all, especially Melville, liked to talk about Lincoln. I wrote a book proposal about the Founding Fathers, with one paragraph about Lincoln, and Scott Moyers at Penguin, the editor, saw this paragraph and said, ‘Why don’t you write a whole book about Lincoln?'”

The four-part series opens with the storming of the Capitol from 2021. Reynolds didn’t write much about the present day in his book, because he wanted to keep Lincoln placed in his time. But without directly discussing it, the book refers to modern times. “Lincoln called America a mobocracy, with all of its different groups. He was compelled to go to war to prevent the spread of slavery and show human justice, against the Confederate States of America, the biggest mob of all,” said Reynolds.

“All of this really speaks to the debates going on today and all of the division. I’m glad the film drives that home by showing certain images, so viewers are reminded that this is history and also what is going on right now.”

Lincoln’s Dilemma shows that black people and whites worked together to end slavery. Reynolds says this appears new to some audiences because until recently, history was “top down.” “In recent years, we’ve had a warmer embrace of marginalized people, like women, African Americans, Native Americans,” explained the author. “It shows Lincoln became great because of his openness to listen to and collaborate with African Americans. He had been very closed to African Americans in Illinois. Frederick Douglass became his kind of conscience, always in his ear, goading him toward emancipation. He also truly impressed by the 185,000 African American soldiers who fought for the North, without whom he thought they couldn’t win the war. He evolves and responds, and that’s part of his greatness – he was absorptive of the influences toward justice and goodness that were around him.”

“He also refused to demonize the South. He didn’t call the Confederacy the enemy. He said, ‘If we lived down south, maybe we’d feel the same way.’ Malice toward none, charity toward all, which was partially based on the Bible as a Bible reader and believer in God. He believed God was in control.”

Reynolds shared next how Lincoln nationalized Thanksgiving in 1863 in the middle of the war, urging people to go to their own churches and honor God with their thanks, even in the midst of the war. It’s the kind of decision that a man with a full sense of justice and “right,” but also understanding that the United States really needed to be united, and that ending slavery was one of the ways that the country had to move forward. Unifying, and encouraging, under God.

Lincoln’s Dilemma is available February 18 on AppleTV+.