Little did we know that it would actually be the "Disney Live-Action Remake-a-verse", rather than the MCU, that would end up being the bane of our existence when we started this project. But alas, here we are.

Why, oh why, did someone decide that this movie needed to be "Part of Our World", when truly, the ideas for this meandering sea slug should have been left "Under the Sea" with the rest of the bottom-feeders? And by that, I mean among actual aquatic animals, not the grumbling execs over at Disney scraping the bottom of the barrel for their next unoriginal remake.

Yes, Halle Bailey does a rippin’ job with the songs, but watching her act opposite an eerily photorealistic crab and a male lead who hasn’t figured out he’s not doing actual musical theatre makes me want to impale myself on the bow of a wrecked ship.

And even more egregious than somehow managing to add 52 minutes of runtime to a children’s movie is the fact that they yanked my boy René Auberjonois clean out of this movie like the guts of one of his famous hors d’oeuvres.

Ursula, grab your quill—I'm ready to sign away my soul to avoid seeing this movie ever again.

chroniclesofcriticpod@gmail.com

At first when we saw that Mel Gibson had left us a voicemail, we were really thrilled... but then we listened to said voicemail. Yikes.

What a lovely day it is when you find yourself speeding through a post-apocalyptic wasteland, guzzling mother's milk, guzzoline, and sand... so much sand. Mad Max: Fury Road is a "barely-time-to-stop-and-catch-your-breath" production that manages to divert the energy of two stars nearly coming to blows into something that somehow enhances the experience for all us lowly, water-addicted viewers. The visuals, production design, sets, and stunts are out of this world, and there's no mystery as to why it won the Oscar for Best Editing.

Chow down on this pursuit thriller, for this movie really is "a movable feast," if you will.

chroniclesofcriticpod@gmail.com except for you Mel.. no more messages from Mel.

Well... out of respect for the subject matter of this movie, we'll probably keep the horsing around in this description to a minimum. But if the film can open with an intentionally light-hearted, borderline stereotypical depiction of young gay men in the early '80s, then let me just say—what a lifestyle these lads were living at the outset of this film. It was the Top Gun volleyball scene meets the beachy goodness of Weekend at Bernie’s. And are you the "tight-green-banana-hammoc" or "Napa-Valley-chardonnay-in-a-wicker-basket" type of beachgoer?

From there, the film does the best it can with its budget and young cast to chronicle the lives—and the heart-breaking experience—of the AIDS crisis as it began to ravage communities through the 1980s. This is a wonderful yet harrowing human story of loyalty, commitment, fear, and love. The movie does an excellent job of introducing the lived experience of a very specific time, place, and culture to the world at large.

chroniclesofcriticpod@gmail.com