Creature Commandos offers a new version of the DC Universe

Photo: DC Studios/Warner Bros. Animation

After more than a decade in the world of superheroes, James Gunn remains one of the most reliable barometers of quality. In a genre as overly-reliant on formula as superhero films, Gunn has carved a path for himself. Although others try to copy his blend of violence, humor, and well-timed needle drops, none succeed. Perhaps this is why DC picked him to co-head their latest attempt at a cinematic universe? Well, that and the fact that there aren’t many others willingly to anger the mob of indignant Zach Snyder fans.

Creature Commandos is technically the first official installment in Gunn’s new DC Universe, although it features plenty of callbacks to his other franchise works. The animated series follows a crew of monstrous misfits brought together, by force. Their mission is to protect the princess of a small country from a sorceress who wants her dead. In other words, it’s the plot of a superhero show.

There are other elements at play, but the series is seemingly uninterested in any overt form of world-building. Gunn peppers in Easter eggs to the larger universe but focuses the bulk of his attention on establishing the characters, content to leave background elements unanswered. This can come across as lazy in the wrong hands. Here it works at making this world more interesting and lived in. We don’t need to know why there’s a sorceress who wants to take over Wonder Woman’s island. We just need to know that it’s her goal.

Gunn’s style is on full display here and that obviously will be a deal-breaker for some. If you weren’t a fan of The Suicide Squad, odds are good you won’t care much for this either. Creature Commandos revel in the freedom that animation gives to get as gory as possible. Eyes pop out of skulls, entire bodies disintegrate into bloody mounds, it all runs together after a while.

The show runs on an obvious formula that becomes apparent around the third time we see a climatic fight scene set to a semi-obscure song. Every episode (outside of the first, which is focused on assembling the team) revolves around one of our titular creatures. We then jump between the present situation and that character’s past, using their backstory to explain their current actions. It’s possible this technique will get old in the episodes to come. So far, it succeeds largely because of strong writing and a string of great voice performances.

Creature Commandos often feels like Gunn getting in one last madcap burst of sex and violence before moving on to the work of building a superhero franchise machine. It seems unlikely that his Superman film will have the same level of viscera and maybe that’s the whole point of releasing this first. This show is its own thing. That’s what makes it work. If the goal of Gunn’s DCU is to attract creators who can bring their own styles to an increasingly homogenized genre, he’s laid out the perfect blueprint here.

Final Verdict: Tune In

In Star Wars: Skeleton Crew, everything old is new again

Photo: Lucasfilm

Star Wars has always been for kids. George Lucas said so himself and if you’re reading this, you were likely first exposed to the franchise as a child. I say this not to excuse the poor appeals to children that Lucas and Disney have made throughout the years, but to establish why I was skeptical about a kid-centric spinoff. There’s also the now-ancient specter of The Phantom Menace that creeps into mind anytime children are involved with this franchise.

I’m pleased to report that Star Wars: Skeleton Crew exceeded all my, admittedly low, expectations. The series follows four children as they journey back to their planet after getting lost in a galaxy far, far away. There’s more to it than that, but this is a classic coming-of-age adventure with a Star Wars twist. That it works so well is a testament to the kids involved.

Led by Ravi Cabot-Conyers as Wim, the cast of child actors have a fun dynamic with one another that makes up for their thin characterization. It also helps that they talk and act like actual children. You’ve got Wim as our adventurous protagonist and his best friend and resident alien Neel as the comedy sidekick. With Fern as the scoundrel-type, always looking for a scam and her friend, the tech geek KB. Add in decrepit, pirate robot SM-33 (Nick Frost) and the promise of Jude Law and you’ve got yourself a solid cast.

If you’ve seen any sort of press for this show, you’ve heard “Amblin Entertainment” listed as a heavy influence. Co-creators Christopher Ford and Jon Watts have dropped the Spielberg-backed production company’s name in multiple interviews. You can see the influence in everything from the suburbs that our quartet call home to the overworked, often absent parents. Even the visual style calls to mind hits like E.T. and The Goonies.

Skeleton Crew overdoes it at times with its lighthearted tone, but never lets you forget that there are real stakes here. These are children thrust into a situation that has put them in constant danger. That the show never shies away from reminding you of their mortal peril is a point in its favor. It’s light and breezy, with a tinge of the darkness necessary for this story to work.

Star Wars is at its best when it has obvious influences to work off of. This show takes the children’s adventure films of the 80s and filters them through the franchise, creating something new. That it doesn’t feel like a rehash or a series of references for fans is a welcome relief. Skeleton Crew succeeds by keeping things simple and sometimes that’s all you need.

Final Verdict: Tune In

Dune: Prophecy is too muddled to fulfill its destiny

Photo: HBO

I’ve been watching prequels my whole life. It’s a thought stuck in the back of my mind, coming up more over the last few years. It surfaces every time a new series debuts that aims to “explain” the past or show us how “so and so became so and so”. Prequels have become a common occurrence, mainly because they’re an easy franchise-extender for user-hungry streaming services. Why leave something to the imagination when you can reveal it in exact detail, preferably in a 6-to-8 episode season that either has too little or too much story?

Dune: Prophecy is all of that and even more. Set some 10,000 years before the events of the Dune films, the series focuses on sisters Valya and Tula Harkonnen as they establish the Bene Gesserit. A near-superhuman sisterhood whose members use their power and influence to direct the course of humanity. The Bene Gesserit plays a pivotal role in the movies. They’re left mostly unexplained, making them a perfect subject for a prequel series.

Anchored by outstanding performances from Emily Watson and Olivia Williams as Valya and Tula respectively, Prophecy is at its best when the duo are on screen. It helps that they are also the most developed characters of the whopping 15 listed as the main cast. There are other interesting characters, namely Mark Strong (filling out his HBO punch-card after an appearance on The Penguin), as Emperor Javicco Corrino and the mysterious Desmond Hart (Travis Fimmel). Fimmel’s performance is especially fascinating and his origins provide the show with a central mystery. The rest of the cast land somewhere between malicious and naïve on the characterization scale. They are blank slates either waiting to enact their ill-conceived plans, die, or both.

There’s plenty of TV that takes inspiration from Game of Thrones, but Dune: Prophecy might be the most unsubtle about it. There are entire scenes that feel cribbed from a GOT script with the names and other proper nouns changed. These moments feel especially incongruous next to events with the Bene Gesserit. They provide the most connection with the films’ combo of epic space opera and sci-fi mysticism. It’s a necessary trade-off. The show can’t match the scale of Denis Villeneuve’s work and doesn’t bother trying. Instead, they trade it in for palace intrigue, forgetting that those types of scenes only work when you have interesting characters to anchor them.

None of this makes Dune: Prophecy outright bad, even as I lean toward tuning out. The show has plenty to like, but sandwiches those enjoyable moments with scenes that take the wind out of its proverbial sails. It falls into the common TV prequel trap of never justifying its existence. The show is three episodes deep, and we still don’t understand this world any better. What we learn only serves to flatten the interesting edges of this franchise. Ultimately, Prophecy has so many voices whispering in its ear that it can’t find a direction.

Final Verdict: Tune Out