Batman: TAS, episode #45: Terror in the Sky

As noted over four years ago, the intro episode for the character of Man-Bat was notable for most of the elements other than that character. Since it was the premiere of the series and being shown at prime time, that episode is fairly suffused in the noir atmosphere that Bruce Timm and Co. wanted the series to carry. But that atmosphere started to wane a bit by the closing stages of season one and this follow-up story, Terror in the Sky, doesn't have nearly the aura that that premiere did. Of course, given that Man-Bat was always kind of a knock-off, in-house joke (Man-Bat instead of the Bat-Man), it can't be too surprising when the plot surrounding him (or, in this case, her) turns out to be kind of shallow. And, yes, it's not even a Man-Bat but rather a Wo-Man-Bat in this episode, as Kirk Langstrom's (Marc Singer) wife, Francine (Meredith MacRae) ends up being the creature that is once again terrorizing Gotham. In fact, the whole crew makes a return, as Langstrom's partner, Dr. March (René Auberjonois) is also present as the source of the renewed formula that is once again being misused.

I used the phrase "once again" more than once in that opening paragraph which may strike some as repetitive and it is because this episode's plot is. That's frustrating enough for those of us who are fans, but it also seemed to be a source of irritation for pretty much everyone who appeared onscreen. Francine was frustrated (and quite unsympathetic) with her husband's inability to sleep and then with his supposed reuse of the bat mutagen. Kirk was frustrated that The Batman's antidote hadn't really worked, if everyone's suspicions about him were true. Our hero was frustrated that Langstrom would get involved with what he absolutely knew was a source of danger. And March was aggravated that he had to share lab space with all of these kooks, which is perhaps the most understandable of all of them. The scene at the lab was probably the largest collection of distinctly unlikeable people in the entire series, to date. Our hero carries that sterner attitude forward throughout the rest of the episode, being quite taciturn and short with almost everyone he meets or speaks with, including Alfred.

Add to that frustration the fact that one of the original selling points of the character was Neal Adams' art. Given the visual style of the cartoon (and the probable influence of the censors, who wouldn't have permitted something as graphic as Adams usually drew in a "children's show"), it wasn't going to be possible to imitate that here. So, the depiction we get of the She-Bat is just this side of goofy, when it's supposed to be terrifying. On top of that, it was an interesting storytelling choice to keep presenting the creature as if she was tracking things by sonar, when it was perfectly obvious from all of her actions that she could see perfectly, just as most bats can. That leap of reason is almost comparable to the similar effort in the plot, where we have Francine adamant about the fact that she can't live with Kirk if he's flying again, but doesn't see fit to question why she'd be returning home with her clothes shredded from transforming into the creature. Even Bruce Banner usually ended up with wisps of shirt hanging off him as a sign that he'd become his alter ego, even if his purple pants were indestructible and always shrank to fit. Although it is kind of a subpar episode, it does contain appearances by two infrequent examples of Bat-technology, in both the Batcycle (with studded tires for winter weather) and the Batwing, which plays a key role in the resolution of the conflict.

Next, we do a villains' revue of their history with the Caped Crusader in Almost Got 'Im.

Batman: TAS, episode #44: Day of the Samurai

This episode is an odd bird in the series. Not only is it a follow-up to an earlier episode, Night of the Ninja, without being a direct second part, but it's also the only one that I know of with non-English dialogue and subtitles, as many of the characters speak in their native tongue of Japanese; as does Bruce Wayne and The Batman at various points. Day of the Samurai is, to its credit, quite different in tone to its predecessor, despite being written by the same person (Steve Perry.) Like the previous post, it's not hard to see this genre as an expression of another aspect of the 1970s. When horror comics became popular (permitted) again, there was another topic bursting forth on the American mindset in film, TV, and comics, which was martial arts and East Asian cultures. Most of it was the Hong Kong action flicks of people like Bruce Lee or dim attempts at the American past in series like Kung Fu. Conics were no different, as characters like Shang Chi, Master of Kung Fu because popular for a time. DC's answer was, of course, a White guy called Karate Kid from the Legion of Superheroes whose solo series lasted a whole 15 issues. To Shang-Chi's credit, his ran to issue #125 and 1983. (I chalk that up to the former being created by Jim Shooter and the latter being created by Jim Starlin and Steve Engelhart (of Laughing Fish fame.))

But also to Perry and the producers' credit, by the late 80s/early 90s when this was being written, a lot of people had tried to steer away from the often misrepresented aspects of Japanese culture. The most notable example in this episode was that use of subtitles, but also the exploration of concepts like giri ("obligation" or "duty") and a deeper exploration of Bruce Wayne's awareness of the concept of honor and how return villain, Kyodai Ken (James Ito), is besmirching it. Of course, little details remain important, where the idea of a self-avowed ninja wielding a katana isn't really in line with proper perspective (unless he's doing so as a deliberate insult?) but also when the entire plot of the episode revolves around the hunt for an ancient technique hidden away as too dangerous which is essentially the Touch of Death made famous by AD&D monks from the late 70s, where the only reason to play a monk (couldn't use magic weapons, couldn't wear armor, basically had no reason to be a looting murder hobo) was to reach level 13, whereupon you learned said Touch of Death and could kill things just by, y'know, touching them. This idea has lasted down the years in forms like the Five Finger Death Punch (now a band because why not?), the Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique, and so on.

One stereotype that Perry thankfully avoids (unlike the episode just before this one) is the question of The Batman's identity. Bruce notes that "fighting styles are like fingerprints" so Kyodai already knows that he and the Darknight Detective are one and the same. The fact that Bruce Wayne's sensei, Yoro (Goh Misawa) (occasionally misspelled as "sensi" in the subtitles) somehow doesn't know this, despite having trained Bruce for years, is something of a head-scratcher, though. Regardless, the high point of this episode is almost certainly the actions scenes between Kyodai and The Batman, since it's one of the few times that we really see fighting technique emphasized; not least in their final encounter, where our hero finally demonstrates his considerable superiority by casually batting aside Kyodai's attacks after revealing that his Touch of Death had no effect on someone who was prepared for it (Speaking of Karate Kid, this is where I was impressed to hear the writers of Cobra Kai have Daniel Larusso saying that the only reason the "Crane technique" worked in the original film is because Johnny Lawrence walked right into it...) Of course, the only way to provide regular drama in The Batman's regular martial encounters is to have him show weakness and, thus, create threat. But the number of times it seems to happen to average thugs on the streets of Gotham City gets kind of onerous over multiple episodes, so it's gratifying to see him display the kind of expertise that we'd all expect in this moment.

Despite the obvious poor choice of fight location on the side of an active volcano (which The Batman does point out), the visual of that final fight, taking place in front of the flowing lava and literally highlighting the motion of their two shadowed figures, was really well done. Again, small things mean a lot in this case and this episode was interested in focusing on those details. There's a lot of slower-paced story exploration here, which is a nice change from the often frantic pace of other episodes. This is one of those moments where you'd find editors talking about "character development" for both the hero and the villain, even if there's no traumatic exploration of either. In this respect, I much prefer Day to Night, even if we are talking about the scourge of Gotham's underworld.

Next time, we see another villain return in Terror in the Sky...

The essence of popularity

One of the films that we most wanted to see in this year's Oscar batch was largely unavailable through our regular channels. Despite showing many more popular films at the Michigan and State theatres in recent years, The Substance didn't seem to have anything approaching a normal run for something that was seemingly as well-received as it was (standing ovation at Cannes, plus winning Best Screenplay there; 90% positive at RT.) The distributor was pretty low on the totem pole (Mubi) and there was reportedly major pushback by the studio that was going to do distribution (Universal) and, given how the industry is generally portrayed, that's probably not too much of a surprise. But word of mouth got around and after lead actress, Demi Moore, began winning every award available (the first trophies she's ever won in her career...), it finally hit the streaming possibilities and Tricia and I found it last night.

Right away, I have to mention that the story isn't mindblowing. It's a vanity tale and, in fact, once we'd seen enough of it, the first thing that came to mind (comics nerd that I am) was a Tales from the Crypt episode from that series' first season, "Only Sin Deep", in which Lea Thompson sells her beauty to a pawnbroker in order to land a rich guy and be on Easy Street for the rest of her life. You can see the ending of that already, I'm sure. This film is no different in that respect. You can see how it's going to end from the very outset, but the way it's presented- in a very pointed perspective on Hollywood, America's version of misogyny, and the careers of people like, say, Demi Moore -is far more explicit than many similar stories. Moore's character, Elisabeth Sparkle (just a bit on-the-nose there...) is being shown the door by her boss, Harvey (a perfectly-sleazy if a bit over the top Dennis Quaid) after decades as the studio's fitness/sex symbol because the "shareholders" are looking for new blood (aka more money.) After being clued in to an opportunity to get around this whole "age" problem via back-alley (literally) science, Elisabeth decides to take advantage of it and start us on our spiral downward.

The thing that struck me right away was the visuals. Writer/director/producer, Coralie Fargeat, filled all three of those roles because she wanted creative control of this story that was extremely personal to her and followed the perspective of her previous critically-hailed film, Revenge. (Rumor has it that one of the reasons Universal objected was because Fargeat had final cut in her contract. You can view that as misogynistically as you'd like because it's probably all true.) But Fargeat and cinematographer, Benjamin Kračun, did an amazing job of keeping the eyes of the viewer entertained at all points of the story. One of their most prominent devices was that every hallway in the film was extraordinarily long, presenting us with the notion both of the detachment from self that the Substance process presented (despite its providers' insistence that the users were "one" and not distinct from their other selves) and also the imagery of Alice down the rabbit hole and the farther you go, the weirder it gets. The other image, of course, is that in Hollywood, no matter how far you go, that point of perfection is still out of reach. Every environment is also very clean and very precise until they look at almost anything organic that isn't the "upside" of the Substance. Food, the traumatic changes (e.g. the body horror), fluids (both fantastical and normal); everything is shown as viscerally as possible in complete contrast to the shells that all of these organic things inhabit (buildings, etc.) That, too, is part of the message and it's never one that is used to club the viewers over the head. It's all just part of the visual realization that you make as you proceed through the film.

The later progression of those organic themes will summon some flashbacks to John Carpenter's The Thing, one of the best horror films ever made, so if you're the squeamish type, you should get ready to squirm a bit. But that comparison works on more than one level, as the point of this film is demonstrating that "monster" within us (vanity, pride, envy) that can drive us to these outrageous acts and, with enough money, can harm a lot of other people along the way. Moore plays it straight and the anguish is totally believable the whole way through. Similarly, co-star Margaret Qualley, who plays Sue, is also on top of her game, as you can feel the compulsion that she's displaying as she tries to escape the one thing that many humans fear more than anything else: embarrassment. It's just that this time it comes with a slightly more traumatic end if it's not evaded. Again, it's not a new story, so Story Guy kinda shrugs his shoulders at that side of my usual perspective. But the storytelling- the process and delivery -make this a standout of the current Oscar season. Among those films nominated for Best Picture, it's definitely among the, uh, more attractive offerings. Recommended.

Batman: TAS, episode #43: Moon of the Wolf

There are initial pros and cons when looking at Moon of the Wolf, because involving The Batman in something that's relatively bog-standard like werewolves is generally not going to be numbered among my favorite topics for our hero. But the initial pro is that this episode was written by Len Wein, a legendary figure in the comics industry, for both writing and editing. He worked many years for both Marvel and DC and, importantly here, was part of Marvel's horror revival in the early 70s once the Comics Code was neutered and it was finally considered safe to show kids ghosts and goblins again (on top of the fact that Marvel had long since been aware that its primary audience was college-aged.) Wein worked on titles like Tomb of Dracula, Werewolf by Night, and so forth, so tagging him to write a Batman/werewolf story seems wholly appropriate. And, like many comic writers of that era, he wastes no time getting right to the topic at hand, as there is no setup to the story. We simply see a zoo guard (Peter Scolari) walking his dog and being accosted by the main enemy right away, with The Batman dropping in to rescue him.

The larger thematics are present here, of course, in that our hero's imagery is right in the (ahem) vein of another classic monster: the vampire, what with the big, dark (and even scalloped) cloak and the bat imagery which is usually attached to those horrors. The idea of a conflict between vampires and werewolves is the subject of all kinds of other media, from movies to RPGs, so we're right in the wheelhouse of those of us who are fond of such things. Again, my reluctance is normally that attaching characters like The Batman to tales like this is generally going to make them rather formulaic. But Wein was probably conscious of this phenomenon, too. Much of the writing of things like Tomb of Dracula was hailed back in the day, but when editorial (which, uh, often included Wein) decided that the way to really make sales was to include the new horror books in the broader Marvel Universe™, the quality began to suffer because the two genres don't always mix very well. This is why DC later decided to separate their horror tales into an imprint called Vertigo, but Marvel were content to let the new set of horror books die on the vine. For my own part, I recognize the genre friction, but acknowledge that there's still room to play around. (Level four is the "horror" level.)

But Wein's experience shines through here in other ways, too. The Batman meets with Commissioner Gordon about the weird, wolf-suited mugger he just encountered and Gordon decides that the best cop to put on this case would be Harvey Bullock. This is one of those instances where Bullock is considered a competent, relatively non-corrupt cop; distinct from his frequent presentation in the series. He later goes on to prove his bona fides in that respect, but not only keeping his men organized but acknowledging that, after the werewolf seemingly disappears, the only way to be sure that it's gone is to wait four weeks for the next full moon. He not only does his job, but fully engages the "reality" of the story (e.g. this is a werewolf, so this is how werewolves operate.) Other little details like this, in which Wein demonstrates that there are other aspects/depth to the usual characters, are exemplified by Alfred being shown doing regular maintenance to the engine of the Batmobile, rather than just bringing tea to the Batcave or some other relatively menial task. It looks like he was attempting to deviate from the stereotypes. That is, of course, until the villains, Anthony Romulus (Harry Hamlin) and Achilles Milo (Treat Williams) manage to capture The Batman and, for whatever the age-old reason is, don't pull his cowl off to reveal our hero's identity. I have no idea why both villains had legendary Roman and Greek hero names, either, but there it is.

Wein also does the best thing for a modern telling of this kind of story and makes the lycanthropy the result of deranged science, rather than someone being bit by a werewolf or some other stock cause. The visuals for both Romulus returning to human form and transforming the first time that Milo gave him the formula are well done, too, and clearly drew from the more modern versions of that kind of transformation (The Howling, etc.), rather than just Lon Chaney, Jr. doing his thing and growing more hair all over. Wein, as a horror writer, kept abreast of the changes to horror films and stories, which is always a positive. The final fight even has a no capes moment. In the end, the motivation for the villain(s) is greed, like usual, but also vanity, since Romulus wanted the fame that comes with being the "world's greatest athlete" (Bruce's ego is on full display here when he trains alongside Romulus at a public gym.) That's kind of a nice segue into another post for the blog on that same topic. But, next time, we're going back to another American fan-favorite of the 1970s: martial arts and East Asian culture.

Evil genius

No, it's not not another Batman post (yet.) Today it's an unfortunate, off-the-cuff writeup about the loss of one of the great actors of the modern era: Gene Hackman, who was found dead today with his wife and dog, at the age of 95.

I first remember him from his performance as Lex Luthor in the Superman films of the late 70s. Comic nerd that I was, I first objected to the idea of a Luthor with hair. But he won me over quite quickly ("Miss Teschmacherrrrr!") and then I began to see other things, like Popeye Doyle in The French Connection and Col. Jason Rhodes in Uncommon Valor and Coach Norman Dale in Hoosiers and Special Agent Rupert Anderson in Mississippi Burning. Even bit parts like Pete Van Wherry in Reds and lesser parts like Defense Secretary David Brice in No Way Out. Not all of those were great movies, but Hackman's part of all of them was almost always top tier and that's not even getting into more of the acknowledged bouts of excellence, like "Little Bill" Daggett in Unforgiven and Royal Tenenbaum in The Royal Tenenbaums. It's about as rich a career as it's possible to have in modern cinema and he was almost always one of the names that you would perk your ears up at when you heard that he was doing another project. He's been absent (retired) for much of the past two decades but his legacy will last a long time. But, oddly, the one role that stuck with me and which I still kind of enjoy more than any other is the one for which he was uncredited:

I've watched that scene I don't know how many dozens of times (I'm a lifelong Mel Brooks fan) and I still convulse with laughter every time I see it. There's no debate that Peter Boyle does his share of heavy lifting here, but it's the subtlety that Hackman brings where, as with almost all his characters, he totally sells the perspective of whomever he's inhabiting while still riding the wave of the absurdity of it all, that does it for me. Acting was fun for him and you could see him having fun in almost every role that he took. It strikes me as a life that was well-lived and is, thus, a parting that was well made.

Too bright for a dirge - 2025 documentary shorts

There was an interesting dichotomy in this collection, in that two were about music and three were about death in one form or another. A full house of contrasts, although there is certainly music about death and if the first selection had been about children playing Mozart, I definitely would have made a reference to the Requiem. This collection was among the best we've seen, I think, as none of them failed to get their message across and all of them were worth the time spent, even if one did run a little long (for a short.)

Instruments of a Beating Heart- The opener started us off on a (ahem) high note, with a presentation of Japanese first graders about to move on to second grade and being given the task of performing Beethoven's Ode to Joy for the incoming class of new first graders. If that sounds like quite the task for kids that young, you're not alone. It was a good example of the standards set by the Japanese educational system and what many Americans see as hallmarks of Japanese society (elegance, pressure, achievement, determination) for good or ill. The central focus was one young girl, Ayame, who first aspired to the drum and then to the cymbal for their performance and fell short of the needed diligence to produce what their teacher was asking, only to be encouraged by him, her classmates, and another teacher to reach the level that all of them were striving for. It's something that sung to both my musical and socialist hearts about the cooperation and tolerance among humanity to bring more literal joy out of our daily existence than the spontaneous frivolity of children would otherwise produce. It was also just this side of unbearably cute in every scene and moment, not least for the eagerness displayed by the children to come to grips with a project that they likely didn't quite understand the scope of, but were constantly assured that they were capable of doing. It was an incredibly positive and entertaining story.

Incident- Of course, the next entry was one enormous pile of outrage and cynicism that wiped away all of the joy and brightness that its predecessor had introduced. It's the story of the murder of Harith "Snoop" Augustus by Chicago police in 2018, told entirely through body- and surveillance cameras. When Augustus is first accosted and then assaulted by police for no reason whatsoever, he attempts to escape and is gunned down. Watching the police, from the probationary officer who shot him to lieutenants scheming, prevaricating, and excusing in an attempt to cover up the fact that multiple officers had committed crimes ranging from simple assault and unlawful detention to second degree murder in the space of a couple minutes and then, of course, committed several other crimes in an attempt to cover it up was just a reminder of both the level of violence that is tolerated by society's "protectors" and their near-absolute authority in escaping the very justice that they're nominally responsible to uphold. This was, by far, the best production of the five we saw, as the screen was split into two, three, or four parts to show the progression of the incident from every angle available and even following some of the police away from the scene of the crime. That multi-perspective depiction also put on full display the power disparity between the normal citizens that came to ask questions of their "protectors" and the indifference of the latter to that inquisition. The film lacked the narrative style of most of the other entries, but the technical excellence and the power of the simple message it delivered made it a strong favorite for me (which means, of course, that it won't win.)

I Am Ready, Warden- Continuing the theme of death, we came to the case of John Henry Ramirez, who was convicted of the stabbing murder of Pablo Castro outside the convenience store where the latter worked in 1984 in Corpus Christi, TX. After being caught four years later, Ramirez was placed on death row and the film was about his last few days and how he was dealing with what he deemed his final release from prison, as well as how Pablo's son, Aaron, 14 at the time of his father's death, was confronting it, as well. The situation was brought to a tipping point when the local DA, Mark Gonzalez, tried to withdraw the death warrant for Ramirez after Gonzalez changed his mind about the morality of the death penalty. It was a careful examination of both the ethical situations involved in the murder, the conviction, and the impending execution, as well as the emotions that suffused all of those. The film handled those ethical questions with a very light touch, which is always the most effective method, IMO. As a death penalty opponent, I'm also quite sympathetic to the tacit idea of "justice" needing to be meted out to the perpetrators of heinous crimes; not least the ones they freely admit committing and to which they agree they probably deserve the harshest punishment, as in the case of Ramirez. Of course, given that region of Texas and the predilection of everyone involved to invoke Christianity into these matters, I couldn't help but regularly think of Deuteronomy: "Vengeance is mine" (saith the Lord...)

The Only Girl in the Orchestra- Returning to our theme of music, this film was about the life and career of Orin O'Brien, a double bassist who was also the first woman to play as part of the New York Philharmonic; hired by Lenny Bernstein himself. Like the first film, it was an incredibly positive piece about a woman who wouldn't let anything slow her down in any way, including the trappings of fame that came with her standout role as "the only girl." It was a great story of determination and passion for music while constantly professing the desire to not be in the spotlight and to embody the "support" role that she says that the double bass occupies in that form of music. The film was produced and directed by her niece, Molly, who regularly encourages Orin to wax rhapsodic on what she's accomplished, to which Orin responds by waving away any and all platitudes. It's a remarkable expression of humility by someone not only highly intelligent and clearly talented, but also driven by the memory of her Hollywood parents, whose careers took a downturn in the second half of their lives and left them both feeling unfulfilled. Orin, 87 at the time of filming and retired from playing (but still teaching!), regularly emphasizes that she had done pretty much everything she wanted to do in her professional career, but still felt the urge to keep going because of the happiness that that success generated. To her, it was about passing on that passion to her students and those around her. While it felt like this one ran a little long, given the relative lightness of its subject matter in comparison to the others, it was still really enjoyable.

Death by Numbers- And, finally, the denouement of death. This is a film based on the journals of Sam Fuentes, one of the survivors of the Parkland high school shooting, and how she was processing what had been happening to her while the shooter, Nikolas Cruz, was involved in a four-month long sentencing hearing to determine whether he would be given life without parole or the death penalty. A talented writer with a poetic turn of phrase, Fuentes' running narration of the events and her perception of them, as well as her victim's statement at the trial, delivered a message as powerful as any other that we saw tonight. I also thought that its placement as the finale was yet another statement about the current political climate, given Cruz's affection for the ideas expressed by both the historical Nazis and the ones currently controlling the US government. The fact that Fuentes has been attending a class about the history of the Holocaust while Cruz, his AR-15 emblazoned with swastikas, fired through the window is a discombobulating coincidence and something of a cosmic statement on the absurdity of US gun laws, the casual shrug with which yet another school shooting is accepted on a weekly basis, and the fact that bigots like Cruz have not only perpetuated both of those farces but are now in control of the government. In an ironic twist, the vengeful reaction of other bigots like Ron DeSantis to the result of Cruz's sentencing again brings us back to the ethics of vengeance and the question of how important it is to redress the crimes after they've happened or try to change our society before they occur.

Again, my favorite, simply for the way it was produced, is Incident. However, I think both the timeliness and the emotional impact of Death by Numbers will hand it the statue; fully deserved. So, those are the shorts for this year. It was probably the best total batch we've seen in some time, with no single glaring failure in any category. Now to track down four of the five feature-length docs that we haven't seen.

Whimsical but fascinating - 2025 animation shorts

This is the category that has most frequently had the entry or entries that simply didn't measure up. When we were walking into last year's showing, my friend, Brian, said to me: "I'm pretty sure there's one you're going to absolutely hate." He was right. Consequently, this is the category that Tricia, Jaime, and Larissa are often least interested in seeing and I'm the voice in the wilderness saying: "No, really. Animation is good." Thankfully, this year's nominees had no such cinderblocks attached.

Magic Candies- This is a Japanese film, based on the Korean picture book of the same name. The story is about Dong-Dong, a lonely, little boy who spends most of his time by himself and loves to play marbles. A local shop owner convinces him to buy a packet of marble-looking magical candies. Putting one in his mouth leads to the sofa in his and his dad's apartment talking to him and complaining about things like his dad farting all the time. That kind of magical encounter soon follows with the other candies, ranging from his pet dog to the falling leaves in the local park. The animation style is CGI, but emblematic of the rounded, stop-motion style used in Christmas classics like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. It's a great message about the power of children's imagination and how they create their own worlds when there's no one else around to share their experiences. It was also quite upbeat and funny, so it was a good launching point after having seen the live action nominees an hour beforehand.

In the Shadow of the Cypress- This was an Iranian entry and done solely in pen-and-ink animation with the classic, wavery lines that come with individually drawn cells. There's no dialogue, so the viewer just has to follow along with the tale of a former sea captain struggling with PTSD and his poor relationship with his daughter. One day, a sperm whale is beached outside their home and their struggles to alleviate the creature's suffering leads to him questioning not only his connection with his daughter, but how he's conducting life, in general. Speaking of connections, this is the one entry that I didn't really find an attachment to. It wasn't a bad film and I'd be willing to watch it again to try to discern where I just didn't land with it. Their travails with the whale and how to address the problem are nicely detailed, so it's a very "realistic" story, but I never felt like I really got the message other than what was already obvious.

Yuck!- This one, OTOH, was a delight. It's a French film about pre-teens figuring out the concept of kissing, romance, and human connection and whether they'd ever want to let themselves be drawn into such a disgusting concept. Director Loic Espuche used a great delivery method by having those disgusting adults' lips shimmer pink whenever they were planning to kiss or actually doing so. Léo (voiced by Noé Chabbat) while repelled by the whole idea has also noticed that his own lips are starting to do the same thing as he confronts childhood curiosity about what his siblings and friends insist isn't something they will ever do. It was probably the funniest of the 10 films we saw this evening, paced well, and replete with the little reminders of being that age and not really understanding what all of the fuss was about... until it happens to you. I could easily see this one snagging the statue.

Wander to Wonder- This one was a joint French, British, Belgian, and Dutch production (Channel bros, unite!) and my absolute favorite of the evening for a few different reasons. One, it's stop-motion animation, which I've been a fan of since seeing my first Ray Harryhausen film. Two, it's virtually a post-apocalyptic setting, as the three characters are puppets from a Mr. Rogers-style show who are then left behind in the abandoned studio when the show's host passes away and food is becoming scarce. Three, the puppets in question: Fumbleton (the great Toby Jones), Mary (Amanda Lawrence), and Billybud (Terence Dunn) are these bizarre, hyper-happy bear-like things in the first place which would probably have been the source of many children's nightmares in an evil clown fashion if the show had actually existed. As I've noted many times, I'm always a sucker for post-apoc stuff and this one was no different. The elaborate settings, their interactions with the local pigeons, and the very blunt presentation of all of it in the nominal "children's show" just had enough of the edge of the bizarre for me to really enjoy it. I think it's just a bit too edgy to garner the trophy, but I would've handed it off without thinking twice.

Beautiful Men- The final entry was again a joint production between France, Belgium, and the Netherlands about the hair replacement industry that is currently running full steam in Istanbul and other ports of Türkiye. Three brothers, Bart (Peter Van den Begin), Koen (Peter De Graef), and Steven (Tom Dewispelaere) decide to take the plunge together and almost immediately run into practical problems, as well as the lurking issues in their relationships with each other caused by their various insecurities (about all the things other than their lack of hair.) It was quite funny and had very realistically-presented characters, along with great dialogue ("You're a doctor." "I'm a dentist!" "So what? I'm a sales manager but I still fix your car for you!") The animation style was quite similar to Magic Candies and, like that film, very smooth and fluid throughout. I suspect this one will walk away as the winner.

So, a much more positive result than in prior years. The last category, documentaries, will either be tomorrow or Tuesday.