In the opening sequence of Rogue Nation, Tom Cruise’s Ethan Hunt clings to the side of a jet plane as it rises into the air. Talk about putting all your cards on the table. I’m happy to report that this is far from the coolest thing in the movie. The fifth installment in the long-running Mission: Impossible franchise is a sterling example of what I like to call “wow” cinema. I uttered the phrase so many times I lost count. Rogue Nation is almost a textbook definition of how to make a satisfying summer action flick.

Since the events of the previous film, Hunt has been leaping around the world attempting to track the Rogue Nation of the film’s title, a shadowy organization called the Syndicate that Hunt believes is behind a recent string of chaotic events that has incited wars and killed off important world leaders. Assisting him are returning IMF agents Benji (Simon Pegg), William (Jeremy Renner) and Luther (Ving Rhames). But the IMF is stymied by CIA Director Alan Hunley (Alec Baldwin), who is convinced that the government’s off-the-books operations team is too chaotic and destructive to continue. With both their own government and the Syndicate attempting to take them down, Hunt and his team are forced to go into hiding even as they continue to search for the Syndicate’s leader and take him out.

I was not convinced that this installment could live up to the very high bar set by the last MI film, Ghost Protocol. That film rejuvenated the franchise, giving us a great new team, increased humor, improved writing and some truly jaw-dropping set piece action scenes. But Rogue Nation builds on the strengths of all its predecessors, delivering the most entertaining and arguably the best MI film to date.

Rogue Nation’s main strength is that it manages to feel fresh without actually doing anything particularly novel. Writer-director Christopher McQuarrie clearly has a love and respect for the franchise, and it shows, with many homages to previous films. In fact, much of the story and even some of the scenarios here are essentially copies of things from its predecessors. We’ve seen IMF on the run from their own government before, and there’s even a sequence where the team is required to work for the bad guy in order to get what they want. There’s even an epic motorcycle chase (hello, MI2) and the story, as usual, is pretty complicated and nonsensical.

Rogue Nation is a heart-pounding addition to the Mission: Impossible franchise.

But none of that matters, because McQuarrie manages to fill Rogue Nation with so many of the things I want in an MI film. A great MI film needs to have both great action and great espionage, and this one really delivers. The most thrilling scene is the attempt to thwart an assassination inside a Viennese opera theater. Or maybe it’s the nail-biting drop into an underwater hydraulic tunnel. Or maybe it’s the aforementioned bike chase, so fast it may give some audience members whiplash. This movie is obsessed with topping itself, and it does so in nearly every scene.

It helps that the actors are committed to good, old-fashioned stunts. In a summer season often filled with unconvincing CGI, Rogue Nation is so thrilling because we remind ourselves that Tom Cruise is actually flying through the air on the outside of a plane oh my gosh! And, oh wow, it sure looks like he’s holding his breath underwater a long time oh wait, he is. These old-fashioned, do-or-die thrills are all too rare in contemporary action cinema, and it’s something Mission: Impossible always delivers on.

The script also gets the humor just right, relying on the strength of situational comedy rather than going for any cheap laughs. These characters are such a delight to be around: in particular, Simon Pegg is an absolute riot. I’m glad this franchise keeps giving his awesome character so much to do. The strength of the writing also shines in new character Isla Faust (Rebecca Ferguson), a British agent with an agenda of her own. Her arc kept me guessing whose side she was really on, and even when I thought I had it figured out the film managed to throw in some twists I didn’t expect.

The issues in every Mission: Impossible film are still problems here. Sean Harris’ villain is not all that impressive. The plot still remains somewhat convoluted (though I would put its relatively clear plotting about even with Ghost Protocol). And the relentless pace and intensity of the movie’s multiple heart-stopping sequences may be a bit too much of a good thing for some viewers. I also found the climax a big underwhelming compared to what the rest of the film dished out.

Thankfully, Rogue Nation really has it where it counts. McQuarrie really plays to the strengths of this franchise, and this bad boy sings. One of the major reasons I love going to the movies is seeing things I haven’t seen before. Mission: Impossible always showcases something new. Despite its derivative story, Rogue Nation delivers and then some. Like this summer’s Mad Max: Fury Road, it’s willing to show us just how far some filmmakers and stars are willing to risk life and limb for our enjoyment. The raw danger of the cinema has come roaring back, and I hope films like Rogue Nation are the rule, not the exception.

The Marvel cinematic universe is in a tricky spot. How can the comic book giant leverage its impressive cast of characters and continue to tell interesting stories without leading to franchise fatigue? It’s safe to say that Marvel’s A-Team has pretty much had its run of origin stories and sequels. But last year’s excellent Guardians of the Galaxy proved that even the lesser-known Marvel brands could hold their own, both as standalone films and as part of the extended Marvel universe.

Even by B-team standards, Ant Man would not be on the top of most fans’ lists. And yet, on both a visual and conceptual level, there are tons of things you could do with a hero that can not only communicate with ants, but can also turn himself into the size of one. While the idea is immensely silly, Peyton Reed’s Ant Man thankfully takes this concept and runs with it. It’s pretty much a total blast.

The always charming Paul Rudd plays Scott Lang, a master thief just released from a prison sentence for stealing millions of dollars from a greedy corporation. His post-prison goal is to fly the straight-and-narrow, to be there for his young daughter despite his ex-wife’s reservations. But his longtime friend/bad influence Luis (a scene-stealing Michael Pena) keeps trying to pull him back into the burglar lifestyle.

Meanwhile, former SHIELD scientist and eccentric millionaire Hank Pym (Michael Douglas) is in a bit of a pickle. His protégé Darren Cross (Corey Stoll) has kicked him out of his own company after discovering his scientific secret to shrinking a living human. For years, Pym denied that he was the original Ant Man, wanting to keep his secret from falling into the wrong hands. But Cross discovers his secret, turning Pym’s estranged daughter Hope (Evangeline Lily) against him while plotting to build an army of super-strong shrinking humans and sell them to the highest bidder. Of course, that bidder happens to be the menacing HYDRA Corporation, bent on ruling the world. It isn’t long before Pym enlists Lang to become the Ant Man, and do what he does best: steal something important from an evil corporation. Except this time, Lang is doing it to save the world.

What makes Ant Man a success is its tone. This is perhaps Marvel’s funniest film to date, and that’s mostly because Reed and his team of co-writers (including the very funny Edgar Wright and Adam McKay), never take themselves too seriously. The film’s best moments are when the camera allows us to see the dichotomy between the scope of Scott Lang’s diminutive perspective and the world around him. In reality, two ant-sized duelers in silly looking suits isn’t all that epic. This contrast gets a ton of well-earned laughs, particularly during the film’s climax.

Ant Man is a fun addition to the Marvel universe despite its predictable story.

The film is also bolstered by strong performances. Rudd strikes the perfect balance between a father in search of redemption and an undeniable goofball. He’s the beating heart of the film, but Pena steals his handful of scenes with his over-the-top but memorable performance as Lang’s longtime partner-in-crime. And Michael Douglas proves that he is incapable of phoning in a performance; he manages to be funny but also tender, as his quest to reconnect with his daughter mirrors Lang’s. The two men see much in each other, which allows the actors to play off of those connections expertly.

I’m glad these elements of the film are so strong, because the simplistic plot is pretty tired. While it’s fun to see Marvel’s version of a heist film, I could have done without the training montage and some of the more telegraphed character moments. The middle section of the film suffers from some serious pacing issues, something that could have been avoided by rejecting some of the more obvious clichés. Marvel films have often struggled to provide truly compelling villains, but even by those standards, Darren Cross/Yellow jacket is weak. Essentially, he’s doing bad guy stuff because he is greedy and has daddy issues. Are those really the only two motivations our antagonists are allowed to have anymore?

Like other Marvel films before it, Ant Man features plenty of nods to the company’s larger film universe. While I’ve become increasingly annoyed by the shoehorning necessary to connect all of these movies, I really didn’t mind it here. Perhaps because the conflict is smaller scale, I was glad to see that there are still epic things brewing. An Avenger cameo feels a bit forced, but it also results in the movie’s best fight scene, so I’m willing to let it slide. The major exception is the ending, which is too abrupt and painfully obvious in its attempts to set up future films.

Some might consider the smaller scale and lighter tone of Ant Man a negative, but I think it’s refreshing to see Marvel so willing to play around with its characters. This sometimes feels more like a parody of a superhero movie, particularly because the concept is so strange to begin with. But the movie still delivers the action beats audiences hope for; there just aren’t any crumbling buildings or alien invasions this time around.

Ant Man is breezy, flashy and fun, but it also has an infectious sense of humor and genuine heart. It’s full of clichés and nonsensical silliness, but its expert tone, spectacular visual effects and great performances make it a unique and fresh addition to the Marvel canon.

Growing up is hard. This isn’t a blanket statement but a universal human condition. The mind of a child on the cusp of adulthood is one fraught with conflicting emotions, changing social situations and tons of what could charitably be called drama. It’s a tough time of life to wrap your head around, and an even tougher one to portray on film. Leave it to Pixar, the animation geniuses behind the likes of Toy Story and Up to take such a daring subject and spin it into gold.

To call Pixar’s 15^th animated feature, Inside Out, ambitious is an understatement. We’re introduced to 11-year-old Riley, who moves with her parents from her beloved Minnesota home to the unfamiliar city of San Francisco. Riley’s emotions help control her mood and general outlook on life from a control center inside her brain. But even they’re thrown for a loop by the massive changes in Riley’s life the move brings. Joy (voiced by Amy Poehler), the level-headed leader of the group, attempts to assuage the situation with her always perky demeanor. She often butts heads with Sadness (Phyllis Smith), who is, naturally, kind of bummed out by the whole situation. Anger (Lewis Black) is ready to fly off the handle at any minute. Fear (Bill Hader) sees the worst in the situation and Disgust (Mindy Kaling) is honestly kind of apathetic about it all.

The group is charged with helping create and catalogue not only Riley’s emotions, but her memories. Whoever controls the main console controls the girl’s emotions. But there are some memories, called core memories, that are considered precious, the emotionally charged memories that make her who she is. When these memories are jeopardized, Riley is at risk of losing her true sense of self, and it’s up to her emotions to work together to ensure that doesn’t happen. But can they work together efficiently when their individual personalities are so different, and when the girl they call home is changing so quickly right in front of them?

Yes, the concept is ambitious. But what makes Inside Out such a winner is that the high-minded ideas never overwhelm the clarity and purity of the story. Pixar has mastered this balance over the years, taking a concept such as post-apocalyptic utopia and turning it into Wall-E, one of the studio’s simplest and most emotionally resonant films. This film is much smaller in scope, and yet feels every bit as important. To a young girl whose life appears to be falling apart before her eyes, what could be more important than the way she feels?

Inside Out deserves mention alongside Pixar’s many classics.

The film gets a lot of mileage out of playing off of the reactions and situations of the five emotions. Despite the fact that each one is playing a type by his/her very nature, writer-directors Pete Docter and Ronaldo Del Carmen have done a brilliant job allowing them depth and complexity outside of their pre-determined roles. Allowing the emotions to be fleshed out spares us from a ton of potential clichés.

Inside Out is a visual wonder, even beside the prolific company of Pixar’s previous efforts. Not only are the emotions’ designs incredible, the world they inhabit is so endlessly creative. There are a ton of small visual touches, even in seemingly minor scenes, that do so much to sell this very strange world inside Riley’s head. It’s tough to grasp them all in one viewing, but I think that was the intention. For example, I didn’t catch on until late in the film that the newspaper Anger reads every day contains headlines describing the events that took place in Riley’s life the previous day. How he got the paper, we’ll never know.

This is also Pixar’s most surreal and, I venture to say, scariest film yet. Dealing with concepts such as dreams, imagination, abstract thought and the subconscious, the film could have easily felt overstuffed or drowned out by its own ambition. There’s some seriously weird, chaotic stuff in this movie (one of my favorites is a film production studio that is in charge of writing and producing Riley’s dreams), but the mind of an 11-year-old kid is a weird, chaotic place. Everything is so clearly defined, so expertly laid out within the larger world and story that no strange concept or visual element ever detracts from the purity of the ultimately very simple story the film is trying to tell.

And that is what I think stands out the most to me about Inside Out. The whole movie just feels so effortless. I’m baffled that such a high-minded concept could turn out so well. The storytellers at Pixar have a true gift for taking the most complex themes and boiling them down into the simplest of stories. You don’t have to understand REM sleep or any other myriad complex terminologies the film employs to enjoy it. Like the best animated films, it appears to be made for everyone. Kids will like it, but their parents might come back on date night to see it again.

Inside Out is an absolute marvel, and a stunning return to form for a studio that some feel has lost its way in recent years. It deserves mention alongside the very best of Pixar’s envious output. I couldn’t keep my eyes dry the last 20 minutes of it. Not because it’s sad (although it is), but because it’s also happy, scary, hopeful, thrilling and ultimately life-affirming all at once. Leave it to a film about the glorious complexity of human emotions to make us feel so many.

As a child, I loved playing with dinosaurs. I even liked to pretend I was one. I imagine the same has been true for many other kids throughout history. “People aren’t impressed by dinosaurs anymore,” a character says near the beginning of Jurassic World, and I suppose in one sense, that’s true. It takes much more to wow an audience than it did in 1993, when Steven Spielberg’s groundbreaking Jurassic Park brought an entire generation’s childhood playtime to startlingly realistic life. Today, audiences feel like they’ve seen it all, and it’s harder to get swept up in the grandeur when a dinosaur is, well, just another dinosaur.

That’s one of the challenges facing Claire (Bryce Dallas Howard) at the beginning of Jurassic World, a direct sequel to Spielberg’s iconic original. The dino theme park she has been tasked to run off the exotic island of Isla Nubar just isn’t bringing in the customers like it used to. Guests want something new, exciting, “with more teeth,” park owner Simon Masrani (Irrfan Khan) tells her. But there aren’t many more “regular” genetically modified dinosaurs left—the only option to increase profits is to create a new hybrid, one so magnificent and scary it will surely thrill audiences like never before. The project is so secret, neither Claire nor Masrani know what it’s made out of, but they do know its name: Indominus Rex.

On the very day her nephews (Ty Simpkins and Nick Robinson) come to visit her at the park, the unthinkable happens: Indominus Rex escapes from his massive pen . Now this intelligent, cunning, powerful killing machine is on the loose, making its way toward the gates of a certain park which happens to contain 20,000 people.

Claire frantically enlists the help of rugged ex-military dinosaur trainer Owen (Chris Pratt), with whom she shares a complicated past (what other kind of past is there?). Together they lead the hunt against this new monstrosity, hoping to save Claire’s nephews as well as the rest of the park from a repeat of the tragic incidents that occurred at the original Jurassic Park.

Jurassic World is grand, thrilling and a ton of fun.

Essentially ignoring the other Jurassic Sequels, The Lost World and Jurassic Park III, the film is mercifully light on complicated mythology and backstory. That’s very good news, because it allows the plot to quickly get to what we came to see: spectacular dinos doing spectacular things. This is a movie that makes more than good on its promises. The first part of the story does a great job of allowing us to see the massive theme park through the eyes of a child. There are lots of eye-catching sights, including a massive Shamu-style show that features a gargantuan aquatic dinosaur and a petting zoo that allows children to ride a Triceratops.

What makes the movie so successful is that it goes far beyond giving us eye candy to look at. Every small visual detail, every cool creature or idea, is brought back later once the action hits. There are no teases, no visual tricks designed just to look cool. Most things given screen time are there for a reason. It helps that the creature design is beyond incredible. Yes, this film uses more CGI than the original, and it occasionally shows, but production designer Ed Verreaux and a massive visual effects team have done a bang-up job recreating not only the spectacle but the warmth and real-world weight and feel of the creatures from the original. That’s no small feat.

I’ve emphasized the visual effects over the characters here, and there’s a reason for that. This is one major area where this sequel can’t hold a candle to the original. Claire never evolves much beyond your typical overworked shrew, and Owen is basically just Chris Pratt being Chris Pratt; there’s no real meat to his character. Admittedly, this franchise hasn’t been known for its complex character development, but I still don’t think the personalities here are as memorable as the ones in the original, though they are an improvement from some of the downright irritating characters from the last two films (Ian Malcom’s daughter in The Lost World, anyone?). The acting is serviceable and not much more. Thankfully, the main characters get some great banter, and even a few memorable side characters get some big laughs.

But, as the film races toward its thrilling climax, delivering memorable set-piece upon memorable set-piece, I found my complaints evaporate. This film really delivers on the childlike sense of wonder and awe that Jurassic Park evoked, and, despite the frequent callbacks to the original, it does so in a way that still feels entirely its own. It’s a tricky balance, and not one I suspected could be pulled off here. Man, am I glad I was wrong. The film’s last few minutes stretch its plausibility to the breaking point, reminding us just whole silly the whole thing is, but it also does something insanely cool, something I’ve always wanted to see from a Jurassic movie.

By the end of the film, I was that little kid playing with plastic dinosaurs once again. All of the implausible, completely badass scenarios my 5-year-old brain could dream up wouldn’t hold a candle to the kind of stuff on display here. Jurassic World is not deep. It’s not groundbreaking. It is, however, a ton of fun, and quite the spectacle to boot. My inner-child is thrilled to say that it’s a more than worthy follow up to one of the coolest movies ever made.

If you threw the entire cast of The Expendables into a blender, you’d probably only get enough testosterone to last the first 20 minutes of Mad Max: Fury Road. That counts as a very high compliment, because Fury Road is an eye-popping, exhilarating thrill ride from start to finish, a movie that puts all other summer action spectacles to shame and reminds us how good action films used to be.

George Miller returns to direct this reboot of the original Mad Max trilogy, with Tom Hardy replacing Mel Gibson in the iconic role of Max, who wanders a desert wasteland torn apart by conflict resulting from a lack of resources, particularly fuel. In Fury Road, Max is haunted by the events of the previous films; all the people he couldn’t save, including his wife and child, create tortured visions. At the beginning of the film, Max is captured by marauding bandits and taken to a city run by the nefarious Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne). Wearing a hellish breathing mask that gives him the visage of a deranged skeleton, Joe doles out his underground spring of water to his parched subjects, keeping them reliant upon him and squarely under his foot.

Max is put under the watchful eye of one of Joe’s War Boys, Nux (Nicholas Hoult). But he’s soon taken along on a ride to rein in Imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron), one of Joe’s most trusted advisors and war leaders who has gone rogue, stealing Joe’s sex slaves in order to save them and take them to the “Green Place,” a supposed safe haven. It isn’t long before Max teams up with Furiosa to save the girls and escape Joe’s clutches.

The plot quickly takes a backseat to the action, which is some of the best ever put on screen. In an age of green screens and an overuse of “photorealistic” CGI, there’s something to be said about how real everything feels here. Every action sequence has weight, because we know those are real cars flipping and exploding, real people flying through the air and under giant trucks. In fact, several sequences seem downright dangerous; when you begin to fear for the actual lives of the actors, you know the movie you’re watching is pushing the limits. As with previous Mad Max films, the vehicles are marvelous creations; Furiosa’s War Rig is one of the coolest damn things I’ve ever seen.

Fury Road has some of the most thrilling action ever put on screen.

The action also benefits greatly from Miller and cinematographer John Seale’s decision to actually let us see it. The fight and chase sequences are so balletic and operatic, it would be a shame to cloud them in a haze of shaky-cam. Fury Road blessedly never falls into this trap. As chaotic and busy as some scenes get, the action is always clear.

The film avoids another trope of the modern blockbuster: a convoluted story. There’s no research required going into this one: even someone unfamiliar with the original films need only read a quick summary online to understand a couple of scenes. The story hums and character motivations are always clear. It’s simple but not simplistic.

What really sets Fury Road apart for me, however, is the authentic world it manages to create. Within minutes, we’re in Max’s deranged desert dystopia, where everyone is trying to kill you and everything is just a little off. This is a delightfully strange flick, some might say batshit insane; it’s every bit as weird and wonderful as its predecessors, perhaps even more so (a guitar that shoots fire makes multiple appearances, but it’s far from the strangest thing here). In other words, it feels like an actual Mad Max movie, and that’s probably due to Miller’s clear, guiding hand along with co-writers Brendan McCarthy and Nick Lathouris. The mood is further driven in by Junkie XL’s wonderful score and Seale’s gorgeous cinematography.

It would be dishonest to call Fury Road deep; it is essentially a two-hour chase movie, after all. But the strange sights and explosions never get in the way of the characters. Max is an everyman, essentially a blank slate, and always has been. The far more interesting character is Furiosa, played with ferocious intensity by Theron in yet another career-defining role. It’s a tremendously physical role, but one that also requires a great deal of emotional vulnerability, and Theron plays it startlingly straight, with nary a hint of overacting in sight. It’s great to see a badass female action hero completely own a movie when she isn’t even the title character. I also loved Hoult’s character Nux, who probably gets the film’s most defined arc.

Fury Road is gritty, grimy, gory and absolutely great. The clarity of artistic vision, the melding of auteur weirdness and satisfying summer thrills, is breathtaking. I had a huge grin on my face the whole time, satisfied over the fact that a movie this odd and ambitious could even get made. It’s a true game-changer in the world of action movies, and everything you could want from a Mad Max movie. Actually, it’s everything you could want from a movie period.

Avengers: Age of Ultron is one exhausting movie. I mean that as both a compliment and critique. This lengthy, ambitious, epic sequel to one of the most popular movies of all time exemplifies both the triumphant and the tiring aspects of Marvel’s seemingly endless cavalcade of comic-based films.

There’s a lot to like about Ultron. The early scenes give us everything we loved about the first film. Witty banter between bouts of action, alongside the quieter character moments that help flesh out the individual faces in this ever-growing band of heroes. There’s a particularly great scene where the heroes, including Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.), Captain America (Chris Evans), Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) and Bruce Banner/The Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) attempt to lift Thor’s (Chris Hemsworth) magic hammer. It reminds us that the Avengers’ world is one filled not only with epic battles and constant danger, but also small, intimate conversations and typically silly games of male one-upmanship.

But the casual camaraderie doesn’t last long. A program that Tony Stark created to help protect the world quickly turns against the team, vowing to rid the world of the Avengers. The menacing Ultron (played/voiced with typical excellence by James Spader) is a truly modern villain; a program that can be anywhere, and do anything to get what he wants. His very existence is a potent commentary on the modern paranoia of cyberterrorism and identity theft. It’s an intangible threat that returning writer/director Joss Whedon has horrifyingly anthropomorphized.

That darker, morally neutral tone is one that is adapted throughout the film. The bright, vibrant colors of the first Avengers film have all but been abandoned, reflecting the heroes’ shattered psyche. The greatest thing this sequel brings to the table is that it further hammers home the first film’s suggestion that the greatest threat to the Avengers may lie within. The interpersonal conflicts within the group are heightened by the introduction of two great new characters, the Maximoff twins (played by Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Elizabeth Olsen). Pietro, also known as Quicksilver, has super-fast speed, and Wanda, aka Scarlet Witch, can manipulate energy as well as minds. With complex motivations of their own, the twins are reluctantly recruited by Ultron to help him in his quest to eliminate the Avengers.

Scarlet Witch, in particular, is a phenomenal character, and she plays a major part in the film’s greatest sequence, perhaps my favorite in any Marvel movie ever. As she manages to manipulate the minds of many of the Avengers, she plants horrifying hallucinations in their minds. This sequence is not only visually stunning, it helps reveal the psychological torment our heroes are forced to live with. This culminates in a spectacular Avenger-on-Avenger battle that I wouldn’t dare spoil here.

Age of Ultron is a timely and relevant superhero blockbuster. It’s also a bit of a slog.

Alas, the nearly 2 ½ hour film does not sustain the momentum of its brilliant early scenes. The film is epic, but perhaps a bit too overstuffed. What starts as a pretty clear and compelling conflict devolves into near-incomprehensibility as Whedon struggles to balance the desire to tell a gripping, contained story while still feeding the Marvel behemoth with plot threads and conversations designed to set up the next film. The most egregious example is Thor’s quest to track down a set of potentially universe-destroying Infinity Stones. It does nothing to further the main plot and is also super boring. This is my biggest issue with these films; while these kinds of scenes are great for universe building, I sometimes feel like I’m watching a teaser for the next Avengers movie rather than being allowed to enjoy the one I’m supposed to be watching now.

This is also an issue when it comes to side-characters. I like that each major Avenger gets his/her chance to shine, particularly a side-story involving a sort-of romance between Dr. Banner and Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow (the always brilliant Scarlett Johansson). But why did Whedon feel the need to parade out the supporting characters from the heroes’ individual franchises for quick, pointless cameos? Oh look, there’s War Machine and the Falcon and Nick Fury and Dr. Selvig and…the list goes on. Unfortunately, the film has too much going on to give these characters anything to do, leaving them to feel like fancy window dressing.

Marvel’s other major issue is also in full swing here. I can’t quite put my finger on what makes Ultron an uninteresting villain. He’s got a wickedly cool design, and James Spader can do no wrong. I guess I’m just a bit tired of a villain wanting to destroy the world because he doesn’t like humans. The film tries to give him some more complex motivations related to his daddy issues associated with his creator. But he still ultimately devolves into a generic world-destroyer. His rushed motivations and lack of witty one-liners make him a bit of a waste, especially compared to Loki, arguably the greatest Marvel villain ever.

The film’s action-packed climax is quite the stunner, even if an army of aliens is simply replaced with an army of robots. It’s one of those grand, effects-heavy spectacles that will leave you asking, “how did they do that?” In fact, the action throughout truly delivers; it’s well-shot and epic in scale, even as it overuses slow-motion effects.

The film doesn’t end so much as wheeze and sputter its way to a credits screen. Compared to the rest of the film, the last 10 minutes are almost shockingly sloppy. I know the film has a whole new series of movies to set up, but so did the first Avengers, and that film did an infinitely better job of teasing its sequel while still giving audiences a satisfying capper to the movie they were just watching.

Age of Ultron is a solid action film with some spectacular moments, but it really shows the limits of Marvel’s cinematic universe. In thinking primarily about the whole, the individual parts tend to suffer. I want to watch a really good Avengers film, on its own. As the Marvel universe continues to groan under the weight of its own massive ambition, I fear the franchise’s best days are in its past. I hope I’m wrong.

I have no idea how to feel about Dracula: Dead and Loving It. Part of me thinks it’s terrible, another part thinks it’s actually really well done. I wouldn’t be surprised if most people who see this movie are similarly split.

Like Young Frankenstein, Mel Brooks’ final film as director is interesting not because it’s a spoof of its source material, but because it’s actually a very faithful adaptation. Dracula (played by Leslie Nielsen), is living in a creepy Transylvanian castle when an unsuspecting Thomas Renfield (Peter MacNicol), who is visiting the castle to sign an English land deed over to the Count, is bitten and turned into his bug-eating slave. The duo travels across the ocean, where they settle into Dracula’s new estate. But the vampire has more sinister plans than relocation; he desires the young blood of Mina (Amy Yasbeck), but her father, Dr. Seward (Harvey Korman) enlists the help of Dr. Van Helsing (Brooks), who attempts to stop the bloodsucker by proving he’s a vampire and driving a stake through his heart before he turns Mina into his undead bride.

The worst thing about the film is, surprisingly, the acting. Brooks usually brings out the best in his actors even when his scripts let them down, but this one is overacted to death. It must be some cinematic sin to waste the great Leslie Nielsen, but his bumbling version of the iconic character only gets a couple of okay slapstick gags. The rest is him making perplexing facial expressions and laying on that Transylvanian accent a bit too thick. I know that Renfield is supposed to be an over-the-top character, but MacNicol’s overacting is distractingly bad.

Dracula: Dead and Loving It is a strange brew, but has some unique and surprising strengths and weaknesses within Brooks’ filmography.

Brooks himself also really overdoes it. The only actor I think made out good here is Korman, who, for once, is the most subtle one. I like that he gets to play a different character than in other Brooks’ films; his acting is still uproarious, but in a subtler and in some ways more effective way. He comes across closer to an actual human being rather than a caricature.

The movie’s tone is all over the place. It gets really dark and even gory, but Brooks is still trying to be lighthearted in terms of gags. The sometimes grim tone doesn’t always mix well with the traditional warmth of Brooks’ humor.

The movie also lacks consistent laughs, but the ones that are here are far more than minor chuckles. There are two scenes that are so insanely over-the-top that they left me rolling. One involves Renfield’s preferred diet of bugs and the other involves some of the practical aspects of staking a vampire that I’ve never properly considered (hint: it’s a pretty messy business).

But man, I have a tough time hating this film for one main reason: it is gorgeous. I mean, absolutely beautiful. The production design here is stunning. I’ve gotten used to the cheap-looking nature of many of Brooks’ films, but this is something completely different. Everything from the grimy, cobweb infested corridors of Dracula’s castle to the lush reds and golds of Mina’s bedroom pop with color. The movie also makes great use of fog, and some scenes use lighting and shadow so well, they border on Oscar-worthy. There’s also some really cool special effects, especially considering the movie is 20 years old, and a sequence involving some visual trickery near the end kind of blew my mind. Despite its famous source material, the film has a moody, eerie atmosphere all its own.

Dracula: Dead and Loving It is a mess, but it’s an entertaining one. It’s not a good movie, but it’s not a bad one either. In all honesty, I prefer it as a proper Dracula tale to, say, the original film from the 1930s, which is somehow even cheesier than this one. If nothing else, it nails the visual style and tone of Bram Stoker’s delightfully twisted world, even if its humor and performances are a letdown.

And with that, Mel Brooks Monday is officially over! I hope you’ve enjoyed looking back at the career of this very funny filmmaker. Thanks for all the laughter, Mel! 

Robin Hood: Men in Tights is a disappointment not because it is a bad movie, but because, after a surprise like Life Stinks, it seemed like Mel Brooks had more up his sleeve than another obvious spoof. But, if we have to settle for Brooks’ take on the Robin Hood legend, it helps that it’s a ton of fun.

Of all Brooks’ films, I’d say Robin Hood is the one most often quoted and referenced by people from my generation. I had a group of friends in high school who could perform the “Men in Tights” musical number from memory. Indeed, much of the film seems to be the filmmaker’s attempt to make himself relevant to a new generation of fans. This approach both helps the film and hurts it.

Like Spaceballs, Robin Hood is less interested in telling the classic story than it is in introducing us to some fun new twists on the characters we know using the original’s framework. Robin Hood (Cary Elwes, of Princess Bride fame), returns to England from the Crusades to find his family’s land under subjugation and heavy taxation by Prince John (a very funny Richard Lewis) and the Sheriff of Rottingham (Roger Rees). Robin hopes to overthrow the prince with the help of his friends, including Little John (Eric Allan Kramer), blind servant Blinkin (Mark Blankfield) and newcomer Ahchoo (a young Dave Chappelle). Along the way he hopes to win the heart of Maid Marion (Amy Yasbeck).

The film is indeed “hip,” if any Brooks film could be called that. I dig the casual, laid back style of the flick, from rapping black minstrels to the presence of the ever-popular (and every funny) Chappelle. As a black man in a white man’s world, Atchoo doesn’t come close to the likes of Sheriff Bart in Blazing Saddles, but Chappelle still rises far above his underwritten role.

Robin Hood: Men in Tights overcomes its tired jokes with great production design and spot-on performances.

The same could be said for the rest of the cast. These very funny performers try their best with the material, but the script is almost constantly done in by the obvious humor. People who haven’t seen another Brooks film may find the jokes funny, but a veteran like myself can’t help but roll my eyes at the plethora of recycled material. I’d say about 80 percent of the jokes here are lifted wholesale from one of the director’s other comedies. There’s the obvious penis humor, the fourth-wall camera gags and the villain who keeps saying the wrong thing, and some lines are straight up copied (“It’s good to be the king,” for example). When I’m hearing these jokes for the third or fourth time in a Brooks movie, I can’t help but be distracted by the laziness of it all.

Thankfully, the visual gags fare much better. A fight on a bridge involving sticks draws favorable comparisons to my favorite scene from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and a gag involving a sword with a, shall we say, mind of its own is my favorite moment in the whole movie. I also got a big kick out of Maid Marion’s chastity belt (“It’s an Everlast”).

The film gains major ground by being so amiably goofy and charming. It’s all very silly, but, unlike Spaceballs, the pacing doesn’t feel slack. Even in its more annoying moments, you can tell everyone making it was having a ton of fun. It’s kind of a musical, and the songs are all pretty memorable (one even gets a legitimate pop treatment during the end credits, a fact I found uproarious, though I’m not sure why).

It’s also, on the whole, a pretty good adaptation of its source material. Brooks didn’t skimp on the swashbuckling; there are some great sword fights here, and they’re a blast. The choreography of the musical numbers is also very good; I’m glad there was so much effort put into the production design, costume and makeup, because it really shows. The grotesque hag Latrine, played by Tracy Ullman, models this in one of the film’s funniest performances.

Although the supporting cast is great (I particularly like Richard Lewis’ Prince John), the film really does belong to Elwes’ Robin Hood. This is the kind of role he was born to play; he’s got just the right amount of cocksure swagger and charm, along with the fighting skills, to make the famous character come alive in a fresh way. It may be similar to his performance in Princess Bride, but that doesn’t make it any less excellent.

Robin Hood: Men in Tights is a good time. It’s nothing that spectacular, but I don’t think it’s supposed to be. The film’s lazier elements are balanced out by a charming tone and laid back pacing. If you’re watching TV’s Galavant and enjoying it, you’re sure to like the sublime silliness on display here.

Like with The 12 Chairs, I had no idea Life Stinks existed before I watched it for this retrospective. And, once again, my lack of expectation paid off. Unlike The 12 Chairs, this is no lost masterpiece; in fact, in some ways it isn’t even very good. But it does things no other Brooks film has even attempted, and is definitely worth a look for fans who may have never heard of it like me.

The jokes in Life Stinks are, on the whole, pretty mediocre, but this is the one time in Brooks’ filmography where that is not a deal breaker, because I don’t really see this as a comedy. It’s more of a dramedy, a film that flirts with comedic elements but, on the whole, has something more serious and important than laughter on its mind.

Brooks casts himself as Goddard Bolt, a filthy rich business mogul and unlikable cad who dreams of turning a well-known L.A. slum into a shopping complex. But Bolt’s business rival Vance Craswell (Jeffrey Tambor), who matches Bolt in both wealth and complete disregard for human life, wants to build his own complex on the same land. So the two make a gentleman’s bet: if Bolt can survive 30 days on the streets without his money or his power, Craswell will concede the land. But, if Bolt gives up, the land is Craswell’s.

Will Bolt survive 30 days on the streets when he hasn’t worked a day in his life? Will he learn valuable lessons about the dignity of his fellow man? If you’re breathing air, you already know the answer. Everything here has been done before; from the rich man’s bet (hello Trading Places) to the unlikable guy who finds the heart he never knew he had (too many 80’s movies to count).

Bolt wanders the streets as he attempts to learn and master the art of being homeless, everything from perusing soup kitchens to performing for money to finding a place to sleep. Along the way he befriends a colorful cast of characters, including Sailor (Howard Morris), Fumes (Teddy Wilson) and the fiery Molly (Lesley Ann Warren). The first half of the film is filled with a lot of jokes that fall rather flat, but when tragedy strikes, it’s pretty emotional. Brooks has never handled true drama very well, but here it works better than the comedy. The film balances the light moments with the heavy reality of homelessness brilliantly.

Life Stinks is a charming and well-acted addition to the Brooks canon.

Despite the movie’s familiar concepts, it still feels refreshing because for once Brooks made a straightforward movie, with a plot and complete character arcs, rather than a spoof. In concept and theme, it feels very much influenced by the films of John Landis and Harold Ramis. But rather than riffing on those directors’ styles, it’s more of a loving homage. It’s also the rare Brooks films with a socially conscious message; the filmmaker has something valuable (though pretty obvious) to say about the human condition.

But the real reason to check Life Stinks out is the acting. Everyone here is a home run. Tambor, currently making waves with his head-turning role in the Amazon show Transparent, is really funny as the goofy-yet-vindictive Craswell. His comedic timing is impeccable. Brooks gives what is perhaps his best-ever performance, balancing the funny and the tragic elements of his character with ease. There’s a sequence near the end set in a hospital wing that had me rolling, but then I felt guilty, because Bolt is actually in a lot of pain and at his lowest moment, and other characters are taking advantage of that for a laugh. I’ve never seen Brooks straddle the line of the tragicomic so well, as a director or as an actor.

The real star, however, is Warren as Molly. She starts out goofy and more than a little crazy, but once we learn her backstory we begin to understand why she is so bitter at the world, and how she tries to hide her pain by looking tough and brushing aside her real emotions with off-color jokes. It’s an incredibly affecting performance, and I can’t say enough about how much nuance and energy she brings to the entire film.

While the movie features some interesting left turns for Brooks as a director, there’s still some reliably entertaining Brooks moments, including a sweet musical number and some good ol’ slapstick. But the directorial trait that shines through the most here is heart. This is a passionate, tough little film that you can tell everyone involved poured their hearts and souls into. The result is so infectious, you can’t help but smile.

Life Stinks is a charming and delightfully old-fashioned slice-of-life story. Some might find its clichés and predictable story beats distracting, but the movie has more than enough heart and stellar performances to make up for it. It’s a true gem for Brooks fans looking for something a little different.