Life is Strange: Before the Storm: It was always you, Chloe Price

I wish I could’ve played BtS before the original Life is Strange. It actually makes me disappointed that I didn’t play the prequel first, because after playing BtS, it’s clear that the first iteration of the series was really about Chloe, not Max. It was somewhat apparent in the first game, what with Max such a blank slate and Chloe’s presence imbued in almost every decision you make. Though the storyline focuses on a variety of characters, the one that keeps popping up is Chloe, who *spoiler alert* also figures prominently in the finale. BtS thankfully expands on her character by giving her a prequel that delves into her relationship with Rachel Amber, the girl missing at the beginning of Life is Strange.

In BtS, Chloe isn’t the same spunky rebel from the first game. She’s shy and unsure of herself as a 16-year-old. You get to figure out how to interact with the characters that surrounds Chloe: her mom, her mom’s new boyfriend, kids at high school, and her new crush, Rachel. That pretty much sums up the game. There is an intricate plot, which involves Chloe and her relationship with Rachel, and while it drives the game forward, the game plays as so much more because it lets you develop something of your own kind of relationship between Chloe and those surrounding her. There are certain things which cannot be changed in the game, like the death of Chloe’s father and the drama surrounding Rachel’s family life. It’s really in how Chloe deals with everything that’s going on—or, more precisely, how you have her deal with it.

This time around, there’s no time rewinding function, so every choice you make is set in stone and immediate. I thought this would ruin the aesthetic of the game after how integral it was to the first LiS, especially how it was used to solve problems, but it was relieving not having to worry about it this time around. It made more sense following Chloe in real time, with all her personality and eccentricities, and having decisions that were permanent. It’s not like she can go back and try to save her dad like in the first LiS, so why go back at all? She has to face everything that’s thrown in front of her, from her mom shacking up with a guy she doesn’t like to getting kicked out of school. Her emotions are front and center in a way that LiS never really dealt with explicitly until BtS. They’re raw and insecure in ways that only a 16-year-old could experience, especially in the scenes that deal with the loss of her father. She has no idea how to approach life afterwards, relying on visions of her dead dad to help guide her, often leading to confusion, anger, and frustration. She doesn’t have a friend to rely on—Max had skipped town two years earlier—until she meets Rachel, who connects with her through the frustration of her own family life. The two lean on each other, growing as people as they navigate the story. That you control Chloe’s interactions to a certain degree lets their struggle flow through the player even more, boosting your own connection to these two. It’s just a great, engrossing way to tell Chloe’s story.

Part of the emotion that comes from playing the game is knowing that Chloe eventually loses Rachel somewhere between BtS and the first game. You knew her relationship with Rachel wouldn’t last and that she’d become lost in the time between when BtS ends and when she finally meets back up with Max. It really does coat the entire game in a cloud of sadness. Unfortunately, once you know what happens in both games, it’s impossible to go back and replay them with a different set of emotions (at least for me it is). It has me constantly wondering how I would’ve viewed the first game if I played them chronologically. A bit of a spoiler here, but the end of BtS doesn’t show what happens when Rachel goes missing, so at the end, the two are still together. I can’t imagine how I’d feel playing out the first game with Max, finding posters of Rachel Amber scattered throughout the school and then meeting Chloe in the washroom, knowing exactly who she is and what she’s been through. I can imagine a deeper sense of dread, knowing something is totally off, and I’d probably also get a bit nostalgic, watching Chloe temporarily get killed by Nathan, maybe even shocked. The hurricane barreling towards Arcadia Bay, though…that probably would’ve made more sense to me at the time. But just like that, time passes and you become exposed to all the little secrets everyone’s been holding on to, and there’s no turning back. For anyone who’s played through BtS, you know that was always the point.

Captain Marvel: Makes up for in strength what it lacks in heart

As an entry into the MCU, Captain Marvel fits in well enough as an origin story. All the right elements are there—almost formulaic—but the formula is so good that it’s worth watching in theaters. It’s funny, has an intriguing story, and its characters are full of one-liners that hit the right spots, with references to the 90s and older MCU movies. The MCU refences are written in exceptionally well, especially the winks to the audience about Nick Fury’s eyepatch. It’s also fun to watch people fly around in the air and blow shit up real good. However, and it’s a big however, the titular character is hijacked by the breakneck storytelling, making the movie a bit less than the sum of its very good parts.

Without delving too much into the story, the problems stem from Carol Danvers’ (Brie Larson) journey, from fighting the Skrulls as a Kree soldier with amnesia to figuring out who she really is and what she’s capable of.  The issues aren’t with Brie Larson in the role either; she’s a great actress and she does okay with what’s given to her. She has a snarky, quit-witted attitude here, which is used in small doses throughout the film. The problem is that she’s not given much of a character arch to do anything with besides make some sly quips. Her arch is more within the physical realm, where she learns to believe in her powers over the course of the movie. That’s just not enough for a clearly feminist endeavor. The message that a girl can do or be anything is only used in broad strokes, but it doesn’t really line up with her personality. I’d assume that her personality would reflect that she’s being held back and that it would also let loose once she begins to assert herself. She doesn’t really communicate any of that, though, through no fault of her own. The script just doesn’t call for her to do all that much, save for shooting lasers from her hands and some karate moves, so the dramatic scenes later in the film fall flat, making the ending less exciting than it ought to be.

Like I stated above, there are a variety of good to great elements in the rest of the film. Samuel Jackson steals the show, with great dialogue and comedic timing that rivals anything from Thor: Ragnarok. All the other secondary players are fun, particularly Talos (Ben Mendelsohn), who plays the British straight man to perfection, as well as Marie Rambeau (Lashana Lynch), who also adds some heart to the story. The 90s jokes are on target, though the movie is definitely shot like a 2010s film and has absolutely no stylistic relation to the 90s except for some clothes, brand names, and toys (all forgivable). And finally, like all MCU movies, the action is shot fluidly and vibrantly, full of green and blue streaks carving up the sky, followed by Captain Marvel’s bright orange lasers. Oh, and Goose the cat is great too.

For all the movies the MCU has pumped out over the last few years, Captain Marvel is somewhere in the middle. It has mostly everything you’d want in an MCU movie, to the point where they’ve perfected their brand of humor and sci-fi storylines that help build their massive superhero world. For such an above average production, it’s disappointing that its universe-spanning plot had trouble fitting in time to really develop the personality and character of Captain Marvel herself. For a film that leans on feminism the way it does, it’s too bad there wasn’t as much focus on the heroine as there ought to be. I mean, girls can be just as strong as men, but physical strength isn’t the only measure of strength there is. I just wish I had seen more of the other kind.    

Thor: Ragnarok: The best superhero comic book movie ever made

Yes, it’s a bold and outlandish statement. It’s something people argue about, especially with Black Panther receiving several Oscars this year and Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse receiving an actual best film-related Oscar. I haven’t seen the new Spider-Man or Captain Marvel, though I really do want to, but I’ve seen Black Panther, which was not half as engaging or as fun as Avengers: Infinity War. I’ve also seen countless other comic book movies, from the DC universe—taking yourself too seriously never works, especially when you have super powers—to the X-Men films and The Crow. Thor: Ragnarok is the best of them all, mostly because it hems close to what it should be: a comic book.

Thor: Ragnarok does not take place anywhere close to Earth, which makes it unusual in the universe of superhero comic book movies. It follows Thor (played by…oh come on, you all know who plays Thor by now) as he fights back against his evil sister, Hela, and gets stuck on a planet ruled by crazy people, where the Hulk is their biggest celebrity. It sounds weird, and were it not based on an actual comic book story, it probably would have never been cleared by the film studio, but hey, here we are! The movie’s theme of family is perfect for the tone of the film, which is where Thor makes his claim to the throne of all superhero comic book movies. Its style is really that of a comic book, with the quips in the right places, the humor snappy and smart, and the scenery so vivid and imaginative that it almost looks like the frames of an issue of Thor.  

If you’re looking for other reasons why it’s the greatest superhero movie, think back to the 80s. Are you old enough to remember Back to the Future? If so, that’s what watching Thor felt like. In each case, the premise is something totally gonzo, and it’s also secondary to the characters and their chemistry. No one who’s ever watched Back to the Future cares that it’s a time travel movie. They want to watch Marty McFly’s genuine reactions and interactions with all the ridiculous things put in his path, while rooting for him to succeed at the same time. Thor is put into a similar situation, and you can’t help but love him. His quips are funny and relatable. The situations he’s put in are bizarre, yet there’s something affable that makes each scene memorable. No, it doesn’t have the same “half of the universe is floating away!” scene that the Avengers had, but it strings smaller ones together in a more consistent manner. It also highlights more character flaws than most comic book movies (although I acknowledge that the Avengers series generally does a good job of mixing flawed characters together in interesting ways, except for the Iron Man series, where resolution was just Tony calling upon a million robots he could’ve used at the beginning of the film to kill off the bad guy). The resolution here is infinitely more satisfying than most other Marvel movies, with a firm build-up to something that’s outright fun and badass, followed by an ending that’s also pretty quirky–SPOILER ALERT, BUT I’M SURE EVERYONE’S ALREADY SEEN IT ANYWAY–where Surtur just demolishes Asgard.

The one other thing that make Thor: Ragnarok better than the rest is self-awareness. This is a movie that could not have been made at the beginning of the MCU but fits perfectly with where it’s at right now. It can take risks and make clever jokes based on the previous films. It’s also the springboard, both chronologically and stylistically, to the heralded Avengers: Infinity War. The funniest bits of Avengers were, not coincidentally, the ones with Thor, and the success of Thor: Ragnarok probably gave Marvel Studios confidence that using cosmic settings with far-out characters would work.

Comedies don’t get a lot of praise as the best movies of all time. Many point to Christian Bale’s Batman series as the best superhero movie ever, mostly for its gritty, realistic take on the character. That’s fine and all, but what would you rather wrap your head around, again and again, for two hours? The new series of X-Men movies are especially guilty of this, making their characters so self-serious that there's nothing to really cheer for, while the other MCU movies lean a bit too much on either cheap gags (think Ant Man and the Wasp) or story threads meant to have a huge impact on the world itself (like Ultron or Civil War), but ultimately fall flat because we want to care more about our plucky characters than the world which they inhabit. Thor:Ragnarok makes it very clear that it cares more about its characters than Asgard itself, and it's all the better for it. 

Altogether, Thor: Rangarok is a movie most people love, but it's really better than that. Back to the Future is emblematic of this problem, where the most heartfelt, oddball comedies aren’t ever considered as “great” movies at the time, but years down the road, when people look back at all the self-serious crap that’s passed us by, they’ll be staring at Thor as the landmark superhero movie that officially kicked off Marvel’s biggest phase.