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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.
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I love fantasy. Whether it’s The Lord of the Rings, The Wizard of Oz, Willow, or anything else, I just eat these films up. The way I see it, this genre feeds into our innate desire for something more than this earthly life, so of course I’ve been interested in the new live-action remake of How to Train Your Dragon. Surprisingly though, I’ve never seen the original animated version, and I didn't watch it to prepare for the remake. I wanted to go into this movie with a fresh set of eyes so I could evaluate it on its own merits, and I figured I’d have plenty of time to compare it to the beloved original in the weeks to come.
How to Train Your Dragon was written and directed by Dean DeBlois, and it stars Mason Thames, Gerard Butler, Nico Parker, Nick Frost, Julian Dennison, Gabriel Howell, Bronwyn James, Harry Trevaldwyn, Ruth Codd, Peter Serafinowicz, and Murray McArthur. In the film, Hiccup is a Viking teenager whose tribe deals with a very unique problem: dragons. These fire-breathing lizards have been their mortal enemies for generations, but that begins to change when Hiccup meets an injured dragon named Toothless. The two quickly become friends, and their unprecedented relationship eventually reveals a hidden truth that transforms Hiccup’s people forever. On a pure story level, I quite enjoyed How to Train Your Dragon. This movie is a beautiful allegory for the value of forgiveness and reconciliation and the dangers of returning violence for violence, and it also reminds us that our dominion over nature has its limits. Hiccup’s people are obsessed with killing dragons any time they see one, but as the film teaches us, they’re wrong to treat these animals so harshly. Humans are stewards of God’s creation, not its absolute lords and masters, so we can’t simply run roughshod over the natural world. But as I’ve said before, a good story is only half the battle. A movie also has to tell its story in an engaging way, and on that count, How to Train Your Dragon is a very mixed bag. On the one hand, the dragons in this world are amazing. They’re brought to life with gorgeously photorealistic CGI, so fantasy aficionados are going to love every second of these fanciful creatures’ screen time. In particular, Toothless is one of the best dragons I’ve ever met in any medium. Not only is this firebreather totally adorable, but he’s also very clearly modeled on my favorite domestic animals–cats. For instance, he has feline facial features, he lies down like a cat, and he even chases reflected light the way cats chase laser pointers. He brought back memories of my cat that passed away a few months ago, so I could’ve watched an entire film of just Toothless going about his daily life in the wild. On the flip side, several of the human characters in How to Train Your Dragon have the kind of ridiculous, over-the-top personalities you’d typically expect from animation, and if you ask me, they just don’t work here. To take the most tangible example, there’s a Viking named Gobber who trains young dragon hunters, and his approach involves little more than throwing teenagers in with live dragons and hoping they figure it out. I don’t know about you, but I think that sort of absurdly unrealistic behavior just feels preposterous in live action, so any time Gobber practiced his craft on screen, I simply couldn’t take him or his students seriously. Your mileage may vary, but for me, the animated feel of those characters ruined the entire experience, and that’s a real shame. Like I said before, the story of How to Train Your Dragon is actually quite good, and when the characters’ inanity takes a backseat, that story is allowed to shine. In fact, the big third-act battle closes the film on an unexpectedly high note, so I actually walked out of the theater pretty happy. But a movie is three acts, not just one, so despite a great ending, the bad in How to Train Your Dragon still ultimately outweighs the good. The best thing I can say about this film is that it made me excited to finally give the original version a watch, and if these characters work as well in animation as I suspect they will, I don’t think I’ll ever want to revisit this live-action remake. It’s a great time to be a Predator fan. After appearing to die a painful death with 2018’s The Predator, this franchise has done a complete 180. Prey breathed new life into the property in 2022, and this year, we’re getting not one but two more adventures with these alien hunters. Predator: Badlands is set to hit theaters in November, but before we return to this world on the big screen, the animated Hulu original Predator: Killer of Killers takes us back there from the comfort of our living rooms. This movie promises to expand the universe in exciting new ways, and now that I’ve finally seen it, I’m happy to report that it totally delivers.
Predator: Killer of Killers was directed by Dan Trachtenberg and Joshua Wassung, and it stars Lindsay LaVanchy, Louis Ozawa, Rick Gonzalez, and Michael Biehn. This is an anthology film, so it doesn’t tell a single, unified story. Rather, it tells three different stories from three different places and times, but they’re all set in the Predator universe. We visit 9th-century Scandinavia, feudal Japan, and the skies of World War II, and every time, we see the same basic formula play out: A group of warriors encounters a deadly Yautja hunter (a Predator) looking for the most dangerous prey it can find, and the humans have to do everything they can to escape with their lives. I’m going to tell you right now that Predator: Killer of Killers isn’t for everyone. Content-wise, this movie is pretty par for the course for the Predator franchise, so if you’re not a fan of these films, you’re almost certainly not going to enjoy this latest installment. But if you’re like me and you eat these movies up (well, the good ones, at least), you’re going to have a blast. Let’s start with the animation style. This film evokes the feel of old-school video game graphics from the Playstation and Playstation 2 eras, but it somehow manages to look (mostly) sleek and modern all the same. It’s an odd style that probably won’t win any awards, but it gets the job done. The real draw here, at least on a visual level, is the action. It’s just as good as anything this franchise has ever given us in its live-action efforts, and the anthology format allows Predator: Killer of Killers to showcase numerous different fighting styles. We get to see the more strength-based approach of the Vikings along with the lighter, more fluid touch of 17th-century ninjas and samurai, and the third story even puts us in the middle of a firefight between a Yautja spacecraft and the US Air Force! It’s a cornucopia of action that gives each segment its own unique feel, so despite the close similarities among the segments, the movie never gets stale. Along similar lines, the Predators themselves are also different each time around. Sure, they all have the typical traits we’ve come to associate with the Yautja, like the pronounced mandibles and the ability to cloak themselves with invisibility, but each one also has its own unique weapons and even some distinguishing physical features. Unlike in some other franchises, these otherworldly warriors are far from carbon copies of one another (or of the other Predators we’ve seen throughout the franchise), and once again, that variety helps the film feel fresh from beginning to end. On the complete other end of the spectrum, I have to say a few words about the human characters in Predator: Killer of Killers. Like most anthologies, this one can’t flesh out its protagonists the way a more traditional movie does, but don’t let that fool you. These segments manage to squeeze as much character development as possible out of their short runtimes, so even though we don’t know a ton about these people, the little bit we do learn is more than enough to get us on their side almost instantly. You’ll already be totally in their corner when things really go south for them, so these are more than just fun horror stories. They're grounded in a sense of genuine humanity, allowing the film’s message to hit you on a much deeper level than you might expect. Predator: Killer of Killers shows us that evil doesn’t have to get the last word, that we can overcome seemingly impossible odds if we stand firm, and since you're so attached to these wonderful characters, you actually believe it. It's a surprisingly uplifting message for a movie with this much death and destruction, and when you combine it with the top-notch action, you get another excellent entry in the Predator franchise. Predator: Killer of Killers proves that there are still many more stories to tell about the Yautja and their prey, and even more importantly, the film proves that those stories are well worth telling. |
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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