jerry oconnell

The Not-So-New 52: Justice League Dark – Apokolips War (2020)

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Welcome to The Not-So-New 52, your digital Swampflix comic book (adaptation) newsstand! Starting in 2007, DC Comics and Warner Premiere entered the direct-to-home-video market with animated features, mostly in the form of adaptations of well-received event comics or notable arcs. This Swampflix feature takes its name from the 2011 DC relaunch event “The New 52,” and since there are (roughly) fifty-two of these animated features as of the start of 2024, Boomer is watching them in order from the beginning with weekly reviews of each. So, get out your longboxes and mylar sleeves and get ready for weekly doses of grousing, praise, befuddlement, recommendations, and occasional onomatopoeia as we get animated for over fifteen years of not-so-new comic cartoons. 

Ever since the beginning of the so-called “DC Animated Movie Universe” subfranchise, most of them have been serviceable, and there have been a few stinkers, but I’ve rarely been “wowed” with any of the films so far. Justice League vs. Teen Titans and its follow up Teen Titans: Judas Contract were noteworthy, and Justice League Dark and Wonder Woman: Bloodlines both had something special going for them, but none of them have reached the level of exceptional. Here, in the grand finale of the DCAMU, however, they managed to pull off something really special, and even though I have lukewarm feelings about the continuity overall, I really liked this one. 

As Justice League Dark: Apokolips War opens, Superman (Jerry O’Connell) has gathered several groups together to discuss a pre-emptive strike against Darkseid (Tony Todd), the ruler of the hellish planet Apokolips. After his most recent unsuccessful attempt to conquer Earth, the Justice League has observed new activity from Apokolips that are interpreted as a prelude to invasion. Leaving the Teen Titans behind to act as security while they’re away, the League sets off to stop Darkseid on his home turf. However, as exit the wormhole-like “boom tube” near Apokolips’s orbit, they are attacked by Darkseid’s newest forces, hybrids of his previously-encountered Parademons and Doomsday (who previously—if temporarily—killed Superman), and the League goes down as the titles roll. We then cut to two years later, where John Constantine (Matt Ryan) and his demon buddy Etrigan (Ray Chase) are drinking themselves through one of the few remaining pubs in London, alphabetically. Constantine, who was in the assault team on Apokolips two years earlier, is particularly ashamed of his cowardice, as he left his lover Zatanna behind on the planet to be ripped to shreds by “Paradooms” while he fled through a portal. Two hooded figures emerge from the darkness to interrupt their well-earned pity party: Raven (Taissa Farmiga) and Superman, upon whom Darkseid tattooed the man’s “S” crest with kryptonite ink, rendering him powerless and forcing him to watch his adopted planet fall under occupation and resource strip-mining. 

We get an update on the new status quo. Most of our heroes are dead, and I do mean dead. We see some of them taking major injuries in flashbacks and who are presumed dead for much of the run time; Shazam gets his leg ripped off, Wonder Woman loses an arm, and Cyborg gets torn to pieces. Some of them die utterly horribly during the time skip; many heroes (including Zatanna) are overwhelmed with Paradooms and we only see their blood spray from amidst the gathered horde, while Atlantean Mera gets half her face ripped off, and Martian Manhunter is burned alive. When Damian tells the others what it was like on Earth on the day that the war began, we see our girl Starfire in two separate pieces, her viscera lying on the ground. As the film continues in the present, still more people die; Green Lanterns get skewered by giant claws and burned to crisps down to their skeleton like the poor souls in Sarah Connor’s dreams, Cheetah gets shot to death by quisling mercenaries, and Batgirl gets eaten alive, or at least that’s what I think happened. Even those who are still alive are in bad shape; Nightwing died during the invasion and was resurrected via Lazarus Pit, but he came back soulless, while Batman has been completely assimilated and is now under Darkseid’s thrall, using his intellect to plot the despot’s next moves, and Raven’s ability to keep her extradimensional demon father, Trigon, trapped in the gem on her forehead is starting to slip. Things are bad. 

Superman’s plan is to try and find Damian Wayne (Stuart Allan) and see if Bruce’s love for his son can break through Darkseid’s conditioning, and to distract the Apokoliptan forces by diverting their attention to the sites of several giant “reaper” mining devices via attacking them, while taking a small group to Apokolips while Darkseid’s forces are away and destroy Apokolips itself. Snags get hit, of course. Forces aren’t initially diverted to the “reaper” machines because only two of three are under attack, prompting John Constantine to seek help from Swamp Thing (Roger Cross) to take down the third platform. The resultant action sequence, in which Swamp Thing wrecks shit, it one of the coolest things in all forty-ish of these movies so far. Although the League gets back-up from the remnants of the Titans and the Suicide Squad, they lose more people than expected in the siege on the portal tower, and when they get to Apokolips, they have to face off against the cybernetically reanimated corpses of some of their fallen friends. Worse still, the appeal to Batman’s humanity doesn’t go as planned, and their plan to destroy the planet’s energy core turn out to be for nothing when they discover that the whole planet is being powered by an enslaved Flash on a treadmill, so there’s no reactor to blow. As things fall apart, Trigon is unleashed, adding a further unstable element to the fray. 

I like big finales like this; they really rev the easily-pleased engine of my heart. And I also enjoy a grand conclusion that feels genuinely conclusive. This is essentially this continuity’s Endgame, a chance to establish real stakes with life hanging in the balance and demonstrate that even our favorites (alas, Starfire) aren’t guaranteed to make it out alive (R.I.P., Zatanna). It feels like there’s a lot on the line, and the tone is consistent while also still offering opportunities for levity and the franchise’s trademark humor; apparently, the scene in which there’s a bait-and-switch joke about Constantine’s ex turning out not to be Harley Quinn but the anthropomorphic King Shark was heavily memed upon release. Shark even winks! The crossover nature of the film also means that we get to see interactions between characters that we haven’t seen on screen together before, and those character moments are always what I enjoy most in these movies (Lois Lane gets Harley’s Suicide Squad to join the resistance by beating her in an MMA match, of all things). Apparently, the ending of this one causes some minor furor online. I won’t get into the specifics, but the ending caps this narrative while also setting the stage for a new continuity to begin. I don’t know what to say about that other than that this is superhero media, babes; I don’t know what you were expecting. That another continuity might happen now—in fact, given that these were/are still making a profit, that another continuity will begin is inevitable—doesn’t make my appreciation of the tone of finality and melancholy in this one less palpable or meaningful. 

Wrapping up my thoughts on this, I think that it’s funny how much of this subfranchise was taken up with Batman (and Batfamily) media, for virtually none of those associated characters and relationships to have an impact on this capstone, other than the obvious one between Bruce and Damian. One of the reaping platforms is attacked by the minor leaguer Batfolk we met once before, but those roles could have been filled by anyone. The two Teen Titans movies ended up having more of an impact on the final chapter, and I love that. Despite his oversaturation in these animated movies in general, all those Batflicks wound up mattering almost not at all here. In fact, this movie could almost be watched completely out of context, and you’d still be able to follow the plot of this one pretty well, and the exposition to get you there doesn’t slow anything down. I don’t know that it would be as meaningful, but it would still be a hell of a lot of fun.

-Mark “Boomer” Redmond

The Not-So-New 52: The Death of Superman (2018)

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Welcome to The Not-So-New 52, your digital Swampflix comic book (adaptation) newsstand! Starting in 2007, DC Comics and Warner Premiere entered the direct-to-home-video market with animated features, mostly in the form of adaptations of well-received event comics or notable arcs. This Swampflix feature takes its name from the 2011 DC relaunch event “The New 52,” and since there are (roughly) fifty-two of these animated features as of the start of 2024, Boomer is watching them in order from the beginning with weekly reviews of each. So, get out your longboxes and mylar sleeves and get ready for weekly doses of grousing, praise, befuddlement, recommendations, and occasional onomatopoeia as we get animated for over fifteen years of not-so-new comic cartoons. 

When I first heard that DC animated had released a film titled The Death of Superman, I wasn’t that surprised. I had, at the time, only recently attempted to watch Suicide Squad: Hell to Pay and had, as I noted in the review of that film, found the opening to be rather tasteless. As a result, when hearing that a new adaptation of Superman’s death was about to be released, I thought, “Didn’t they already do that?” and then thought, “Oh, I guess they’re really just out of ideas.” Now that I’ve watched all of these (so far) in order, I have to say that it was more that this was where an adaptation of that story best slotted into this sub-franchise of the DCAMU, the eleventh of these films overall. It’s a little thin, all things considered, but that’s really because it’s more about setting up the next film than it is about the actual narrative that this adaptation covers. A little comic history: back in the nineties, DC was getting ready to marry Lois and Clark/Superman. However, at the time, the ABC series Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman, was currently airing, and they wanted to marry the two characters to one another, but not for at least another season. So, ABC called in a favor and DC came up with a plan to delay the comic marriage of Clark and Lois until it was time for it to happen in the show as well, for synergy. As a result, they came up with the idea to “kill” Superman temporarily and then have a yearlong series of stories in which various characters attempt to fill the void that his death created, before the real deal triumphantly returns to reassume his place. That one little decision on behalf of a mostly forgotten Superman-adjacent primetime TV show is why we’re here today. 

Despite their previous appearances together showing them enjoying one another’s company on a few dates, Superman (Jerry O’Connell) and Wonder Woman (Rosario Dawson) are now merely good friends and colleagues, and Superman has taken up dating his beloved Lois Lane (Rebecca Romijn) in his civilian identity as Clark Kent, although he has not yet come out to her as being Superman. Wonder Woman encourages him to do so, and his need to make a decision sooner than later is exacerbated when a meeting of the Justice League reveals that The Flash (Christopher Gorham) is getting married soon, and when Kal-El asks Barry if Iris “knows,” Barry tells him that he revealed his identity to her “ages ago.” Shortly after Superman gives Lois a tour of S.T.A.R. Labs, which houses the spacepod that brought him to earth and which contains holographic records that include an image of his parents, his other family, the Kents, arrive in town and want to meet Lois. Over the course of their dinner, Lois comes to realize that she actually knows almost nothing about her beau, for the first time recognizing how guarded he is around her and wondering what the cause is. She leaves him for the night, and he has a heart to heart with his mother wherein she admits that, at her age, it doesn’t seem like keeping secrets is really all that important anymore. 

On the less domestic, more superheroic side of things, we learn that Lex Luthor (Rainn Wilson) has found a way to circumvent his house arrest and is still up to nefarious doings, including attempting to create a clone version of Superman which he can control as well as merging earth and Apokoliptian technology to sell to criminals. Seemingly coincidentally, a “boom tube” wormhole opens not far from the earth, spitting out a misshapen asteroid that starts to fall toward the planet, crashing into the ocean. Several of Aquaman (Matt Lanter)’s guards converge on the undersea crash site at the same time as a Lexcorp submersible. All are slain by a monster that emerges from the wreckage, who then makes his way to land and toward Metropolis, killing every living thing in his path. In the meantime, Clark reveals his secret to Lois, only to be called away to deal with the monster after it takes out the entire rest of the Justice League, although Wonder Woman goes down last and hardest. Clark leaves a note for Lois with his last secret (“I love you”) and then heads out to defeat the monster, while also having to deal with interference from Luthor, who gets involved both because of his ego and because he believes that the monster’s genetics will help him to stabilize the unstable makeup of all the deformed clones he’s hiding in the basement of Lexcorp. 

While 2007’s Superman: Doomsday served to condense both the “Death of Superman” and the “Reign of the Supermen” comic arcs into a single movie, this one covers only the former and gives that original narrative some breathing room. I’m torn about the ongoing expansion of the Justice League as it seems to continue to happen largely offscreen and/or in the background. Justice League: Dark showed Hawkman and Martian Manhunter hanging around the League’s headquarters in non-speaking roles, and while Manhunter gets a line this film (voiced by Nyambi Nyambi), it’s strange that we don’t get a sense of camaraderie between the characters in the way that the earliest of these movies did. The relationship between Clark and Diana is strong, but the fact that Superman didn’t even know that the Flash was getting married makes it seem like, although this team is growing in number between movies when we’re not getting to see it, they’re not growing in friendship, and that’s the only reason that anyone would have to remain emotionally invested in this series as it advances. At least this one, since Batman is really and truly powerless against an unstoppable killing machine with no weak points, he gets out of the way and lets Superman take center stage here, although Wonder Woman is no slouch either. That inclusion of the whole League, however, allows for a consistent heightening of the stakes that appropriately ratchets the tension, even if we already know Superman is headed for his death because, you know, the title is at the beginning. 

Of course, there are the seeds of the Supermen to come in this one. We see a young super clone being grown in a vat like a Venture brother; we meet Dr. John Henry Irons, who will eventually become Steel; we even get to see a hopeful astronaut named Hank Henshaw remain optimistic that Superman will save his crew even as their ship is pelted by debris from the asteroid’s incursion, killing his wife and their other companions, and even if you don’t know where that’s going, it’s successful as foreshadowing. Those are fun little seeds being planted. As for other things I really like, having O’Connell’s real life spouse voice Lois is a cute little treat, and their great natural chemistry comes through in the performance. Romijn is an underappreciated star, in my opinion, but she’s not given the same potency of material here that Anne Heche had on her plate in Doomsday. The best parts of that movie come after the fight with Doomsday that take up only Act I of that film (and which serves as the final climax of this one), wherein Lois grieves in secret because while the whole world mourns Superman she’s mourning Clark, struggles with her conflicting feelings about seeking comfort with the Kents, who are (as in this one) strangers to her, is initially delighted that Superman seems to have been resurrected only to be devastated by his reserved treatment of her. Romijn’s Lois isn’t given as much to do; the story focuses more on Clark’s internal struggle with whether to tell her his secret than it does on her learning the truth and puzzling out all the implications. When she thinks Clark is going to break up with her, she tells him that she’s absolutely not going to stop coming into the office, as if this eighties-ass Kate & Allie punchline is supposed to be empowering, when instead it besmirches the entire script. Hepburn and Tracy it ain’t. 
This one is fine. It’s not predictable that some fringe film critic is going to sit down and watch all of these movies week after week; it’s logical to assume that the decade plus between the release of Doomsday and this movie would mean that you probably forgot most of the story beats for this even before they changed up other plot elements, or that Doomsday came out when you were too young to notice these things and now you’re a sophomore or a junior and thus the primary audience for this. (We should never really be under any illusion about that, and recognize that these movies rise above mediocrity at any point is kind of a miracle, to be honest.) This one is above the average for this overall franchise, but it’s missing something special that would push it into a more memorable state. It’s a necessary step in this film series, and thus can’t really be skipped, but it’s one that there’s no real reason to recommend other than for that reason, so take from that what you will.

-Mark “Boomer” Redmond

Joe’s Apartment (1996)

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Ari Aster’s sprawling nightmare comedy Beau is Afraid earned a lot of automatic comparisons to the insular storytelling style of Charlie Kaufman last year, since Kaufman’s signature works like Being John Malkovich and Synecdoche, New York tend to follow a lonely man’s journey into his own mind similar to the one Joaquin Phoenix takes in Beau.  Looking back, maybe the works of undersung auteur John Payson should’ve been cited in those discussions as well, since the grotesque caricature of New York City that Phoenix navigates in Beau is Afraid is much more similar to the crime-ridden, roach-infested NYC that Jerry O’Connell navigates in Payson’s sole directorial feature Joe’s Apartment.  O’Connell begins his journey as a fresh bus station arrival who’s mugged by three separate, sequential assailants as soon as he steps off his Greyhound chariot.  Outside the bus depot, he is horrified by the discovery of a bloodied corpse on the sidewalk that his fellow, jaded New Yorkers ignore as they scurry about from one hostile confrontation to another.  His walk-and-talks down city streets are frequently interrupted by deadly shootouts between generic, nameless cops & robbers.  Once he lands a place to live, he is tormented by two crooked, roided-out landlords who spend their entire day trying to lethally “evict” him so they can spike the rent.  And, of course, his apartment is filled to the brim with billions upon billions of cockroaches, as every NYC apartment is.  It’s the same paranoid, misanthropic view of Big City urban living that plagues the perpetually afraid Beau of Aster’s film, which equates picking up anxiety meds from the pharmacy across the street to walking through a warzone.  I can’t recall ever seeing anything that explosively chaotic in a Charlie Kaufman picture, since those tend to be controlled & self-serious to the point of stuffiness.

There are a couple very good reasons you won’t often see John Payson’s magnum opus cited alongside the works of Charlie Kaufman, no matter how applicable.  For one, not many people bothered to watch Joe’s Apartment upon its initial release in 1996, when it only earned $4 million box office off of a $13 million budget.  Moreover, it’s also just a deeply silly film, and I’m mostly just goofing off by bringing it up.  I have not yet mentioned that the cockroaches that flood the titular apartment are self-aware beings who sing & dance their way through this roach-themed comedy musical, chirping life advice at O’Connell’s Joe in sped-up Alvin & The Chipmunks speak.  This is the kind of movie that earns a “Roach Songs By” credit in the opening scroll, effectively parodying the nice-guy-in-the-big-mean-city narrative tropes that link it to Beau.  It’s less akin to the headier comedy of a Charlie Kaufman or an Ari Aster than it is a Minions prototype for people who are intimately familiar with the taste of bongwater.  And yet, by the time one of the roaches is introduced as a “cousin from Texas” who lassos and rides a housecat out of the apartment like a rodeo cowboy, I found myself having a great time with it.  Despite all of the slime & grime that coats every surface of Joe’s Apartment, it’s a weirdly wholesome film.  Forever in hiding because humans tend to “smush first and ask questions later”, the roaches decide to reveal their ability to converse with Joe because they love how naturally gross he is.  They feel affinity with the slovenly behavior of the standard-issue Straight Boy slacker, who leaves half-emptied food containers out for the little pests as he sleeps away the daylight fully clothed – body unbathed, clothes unwashed.  When he’s understandably freaked out by their decision to speak to him, they attempt to win him over with song & dance.  It’s cute.  Absolutely fucking disgusting, but cute.

For what Payson may lack in maturity of subject, he more than makes up for in attention to craft.  At the time of release, the big deal about Joe’s Apartment was its innovative use of CGI, which allowed the cockroaches to sing & dance in surprisingly convincing close-ups (an effect created by the animation studio Blue Sky in their first feature film, pre-Ice Age).  The computer-animated shots only account for a small portion of the film’s multi-media approach, though, and more traditional modes of cockroach animation are just as frequently deployed: stop-motion, collage, puppetry, time-elapse photography, etc.  Joe’s Apartment started as a short-film visual experiment in MTV’s psychedelic Liquid Television program.  When it was later developed into a feature film, it was released as the very first project under the MTV Films brand, predating even Beavis & Butthead Do America.  As a result, the movie includes constant cultural markers to posit Joe as a hip, aspirational slacker for a young audience to look up to – having him read Love & Rockets comics when he should be job hunting, decorating his apartment with Sonic Youth posters, and overstuffing the soundtrack with wall-to-wall needle drops to sell tie-in CDs at the shopping mall outside your local multiplex.  The thing is that Payson’s style is inherently cool, though, as long as you have the stomach for it.  When Joe is mugged at the Greyhound station, the camera takes the first-person-POV of the criminals’ fists as they repeatedly pound into his face.  Later, presumably to save money on costly CGI shots, the roaches puppeteer random objects in his apartment to give the production a grimy Pee-wee’s Playhouse effect. I begged my parents to take me to Joe’s Apartment when it first came out because it looked so cool, but they said I was too young to see it.  In retrospect, I realize they just didn’t want to sit through the CGI cockroach musical, which is fair, but I feel like they (and most of America) really missed out on a Gen-X comedy gem.

-Brandon Ledet

Satanic Panic (2019)

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I closed out my experience at the Overlook Film Festival this year the exact way I started it: with a comedy that wasn’t at all funny. Just like with my opening night selection, Porno, I sat through much of Satanic Panic in the festival’s closing hours not laughing at any of the film’s proper Jokes but being amused by the absurdist excess of the sex & violence onscreen anyway. Humor is entirely subjective, as I learned a day prior when a total stranger scolded me for laughing during Peter Strickland’s killer-dress giallo pastiche In Fabric because it is “not a comedy” (hard disagree), so I’m sure this splatter comedy has a core demographic of genre nerds out there who are going to slurp up its cutesy occultist humor like so much blood & viscera. For the rest of us, the film is at least committed to exploiting the full absurdist potential of its sex & violence, perhaps the two most reliable sources of entertainment in the history of commercial art.

This film picks up where Rosemary’s Baby leaves off. Upwardly mobile suburbanite aristocrats gather in a beige McMansion to worship Satan as their Dark Lord. Their ritual du jour involves summoning the demon Baphomet to impregnate a sacrificial virgin, providing a physical form for an Evil deity. Our POV character is the virgin sacrifice in peril – a pizza delivery driver who dares speak up when the cult stiffs her on her tip, only for them to single her out for their depraved ceremony of untold horrors. Most of the film details her fight for survival over the course of a single night as she must first accept that witchcraft is real, then adapt to overthrow the black magic Satanists who want to destroy her with it. Luckily, her blue-collar pedigree has better prepared for the fight than the pampered suburbanites that surround her, whether or not they have all the forces of Hell to summon for backup.

In its least convincing moments Satanic Panic attempts a weirdly earnest emotional throughline about personal courage & survivor’s guilt. Its Society-esque thematic territory in which the Rich are an evil force that are actively trying to kill us is much more successful, but still a little hollow. Mostly, the plot is a thin excuse to juxtapose a wholesome cutie who loves fuzzy bunnies with the blood-soaked horrors of Satanic worship. It’s a relatively harmless source of humor (excusing a rape joke or two, re: preemptively losing her virginity), but also not a particularly novel or clever one. For me, the film worked best when the humanity of its characters was forgotten entirely in pursuit of sexual, gory mayhem: strap-on “killdo” drills, poisoned children, fisted neck wounds, Cronenberigan anus monsters, blood-soaked occultist orgies, etc. It may not be the pinnacle of joke writing or emotional drama, but Satanic Panic at least knows how to deliver the goods when it comes to over-the-top ultraviolence & softcore sexual mania.

From a production level standpoint, this should’ve been able to accomplish much more than what Porno pulled off. While that film was a more amateur affair populated by unfamiliar faces and limited to just a few locations, this is a Fangoria-supported debut feature for Horror Industry notable Chelsea Stardust and features supporting performances from Rebecca Romjin, Jerry O’Connell, and Arden Myrin among its suburbanite Satanists. It’s far from a major studio production, but the fact that it amounts to the same general effect of something as cheap as Porno can’t be a good sign. Because both of those titles were able to earn their place on the schedule for the same generally well-curated horror festival, and both screenings were met with uproarious laughter from plenty of genre nerds besides me, I assume there are many people out there who will find Satanic Panic hi-larious, whether or not they would enjoy it more than Porno. Admittedly, I did eventually have fun with its commitment to bloodlust & excess myself, but I also walked away a lot more cautious about making time for these unvetted splatter comedies the next time I’m prioritizing what to see at a genre film festival. I now know that they’re a type, and not necessarily my type.

-Brandon Ledet