Black Panther (2018)

This was the second year in a row we've seen a breakout African-American movie released in the dead of winter and I've been surprised both times. I thought Get Out was pretty good, but it's not already in the top 20 highest-grossing movies of all time. After Black Panther became a certifiable megahit practically on its opening weekend, I felt somewhat duty bound to hie myself off to see it. (Not, full disclosure, that I've done so for any of the following movies ahead of Black Panther's current #13 place on the all-time list: Jurassic World, Furious 7, Avengers: Age of Ultron, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part 2, Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Beauty and the Beast, and The Fate of the Furious.) I'm duty bound to report that Black Panther is indeed a superhero movie, with stunts, boffo special effects, a Stan Lee cameo, baffling costumery, the sense you're already a little behind, etc. But it's directed by Ryan Coogler, whose Fruitvale Station and especially Creed really impressed me. It also has wonderful complexities, some rousing moments, an African setting, and an all-star majority black cast and good performances all over the place (Chadwick Boseman, Lupita Nyong'o, Danai Gurira, Angela Bassett, Forest Whitaker, Winston Duke ... I was sorry to see them shoehorn in a white guy, Martin Freeman, as perfectly likable as he is). Black Panther first came to life in the comics in 1966, the same year that the Black Panther Party did, though I'm not sure of any connection. Wikipedia describes his superhero essentials: "... relies on his proficiency in science, rigorous physical training, hand-to-hand combat skills, and access to wealth and advanced technology to combat his enemies." Which sounds like Batman actually. Things are more mystical now, at least in this movie, what with a magical scientifical purple herbal brew, a powerful metallic element called vibranium, and generous helpings of we-can-do-anything technology. I like conceiving of a superhero as the king of an African nation—the mysterious Wakanda—and even better I like the central conflict in this story: whether Wakanda should continue to stay out of sight of the rest of the world or share its powerful technology, notably with Africans everywhere who are less fortunate. Michael B. Jordan, who is shaping up to be Coogler's Robert De Niro, is stellar as the villain who isn't really a villain if you think about it. He's not even that misguided. He usually has a point. On the other hand, times being what they are, he also reminded me of Donald Trump in his grab for power and the ways he uses it, not to mention the deep-seated psychological wounding. We're supposed to be going to the movies to get away from this stuff!!! Worth seeing even if you don't like superhero movies that much (though it is a superhero movie). P.S. In the contest to give an imaginary metallic element the silliest name, this movie's "vibranium" still lags behind the gold standard, Avatar's "unobtanium."

Creed (2015)

I really could not believe, first, that a seventh Rocky movie had even been made. Then I could not believe it was getting so many good reviews from so many surprising places. Then I realized it was actually one of two movie released this past holiday season that was the seventh in a franchise started in the '70s, and I thought I might take a look. By the time I got to my 9:40 a.m. weekday matinee, that other movie—Star Wars: The Force Awakens, of course—had just opened the day before. There was a large crowd milling around. I like these weekday morning matinees even when they're crowded because people tend to be more sober earlier in the day, which is how I like them at the movies. My ticket-taker looked surprised and told me I was the first person there for anything other than Star Wars, abruptly assuring me Creed was a good movie too. By the time it started there was a reasonable crowd of a few dozen. Maybe they hadn't been able to get tickets for Star Wars?

Look, the ticket-taker was right, Creed is good, and not just as an afterthought to Star Wars. It's a great sports movie. It's a solid entry in the Rocky franchise—in another parallel with Star Wars, it's the second-best out of the whole bunch, after the original. (Full disclosure: I am not a fan of the Star Wars franchise and only a marginal fan of its Rocky counterpart. Don't make me call it a guilty pleasure.) Creed is full of surprises. As a sports movie, it hits all the right notes, no pun intended. The commitment to excel, the raw talent, the training montages, the underdog tale (with a deep backstory in this case), the brutal opponent, and the matter of the bout itself, fighting the fight blow by blow. All here. One of the best parts is Sylvester Stallone as an aging Rocky Balboa. Maybe age has conferred something—I always thought he was more limited than even Clint Eastwood, but here he is making the Eastwood of Million Dollar Baby and Gran Torino look like Walter Brennan. Stallone is just insanely likable, as Rocky Balboa taking on management of an illegitimate son of his former opponent, Apollo Creed. Toward the middle of the picture it veers around in some confusion about what is real and what is Rocky, but once we get to the main event in the last third it's all sensation and pointed drama, as the sports movie mojo kicks in. Director and cowriter Ryan Coogler (Fruitvale Station, which I haven't seen) has a strong feeling for this material, both the larger franchise and, more importantly, how to film boxing ring sequences. Like the original, it ends on rousing high notes. How much groundwork are they laying for sequels? Plenty—the next one is reportedly already in preliminary development. If Coogler is there for it, and Michael B. Jordan, who is fine as Creed's son Adonis, it might be as good as a Rocky sequel. In other words, in a season of new box office records, I wish Creed all the success in the world. And when the inevitable inferior sequels come along as a result, then I will be sad.