The Harder They Fall (2021)
Directed by Jeymes Samuel
As a lifelong fan of westerns, I found much to appreciate in The Harder They Fall, but it suffers from a need to include more than director Jeymes Samuel can comfortably accommodate into one film. While I might drool over the idea of a western finally depicting some of the famous black heroes and outlaws of the west, The Harder They Fall attempts to include so many at once that the story becomes a jumble of competing stories with no hope for anyone to shine. This may be fine in an ordinary ensemble piece, but for a film with the potential to blow the hat right off the genre, I want a story to match the promise of its storied namesakes. With that said, The Harder They Fall is not without its merits. The cast (which includes Jonathan Majors, Idris Elba, Regina King, Lakeith Stanfield, Zazie Beetz, and Delroy Lindo) is terrific, and works well with the material provided (with some taking a particular shine to the tropes associated with the genre). The action sequences are also top-notch, offering heavy nods to droves of western predecessors. With a slimmed-down scope (or perhaps if it had been made in the ‘70s), The Harder They Fall might well be a genre favorite. As is, it ekes by on the strength of its cast.
Freeland (2021)
Directed by Mario Furloni & Kate McLean
The more I think about Mario Furloni and Kate McLean’s Freeland, the more I’m convinced it isn’t much more than an exercise in white privilege. On its surface Freeland tells a decent story (about an aging pot grower, played by Krisha Fairchild, who’s forced to rethink her business model after legalization), but there are certain elements missing from the plot that I can’t help but return to over and again. Most notably of these is that a white lady gets to own and operate a massive illegal pot farm while thousands of black folks are incarcerated as we speak for far less crimes than she’s committed daily for decades. And while I’m fully aware that tackling the latter is well outside the film’s small scope, it still doesn’t sit well with me that I’m expected to fully sympathize with the former. The filmmakers do manage some cleverly scaled tension and psychological elements late in the film that are of note, but it isn’t enough to cover the permeating air of privilege that hangs thick over the remainder.
Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings (2021)
Directed by Destin Daniel Cretton
I’m a big sucker for cinematic mysticism and martial arts – and Shang-Chi certainly delivers in both regards. Director Destin Daniel Cretton has not only put together some of the most compelling fight scenes in the storied history of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but has also assembled one of the most likable casts. Simu Liu and Awkwafina are pure onscreen gold together, delivering performances that are funny, smart, and above all, different. Their chemistry is so welcomed after twenty-some-odd movies of dour drama queen Avengers that I am genuinely looking forward to what’s next for them (as opposed to others in the franchise that I couldn’t care less about). The second half of the film falters a bit when it enters into some Mortal Kombat-styled contrivances that diminish what made the film so enjoyable up to that point, but these complaints are minor compared to the ones I have with so many other comic-based movies. In the end, Shang-Chi isn’t too far removed from other MCU origin stories as far as plotting and pacing go, but that it’s so culturally refreshing and distinctly lacking in military-worship (unlike many of its contemporaries), it can’t help but rise to the top of a crowded genre.
James is a writer, skateboarder, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.