Reel Deep Dive

Tiny Toon Adventures: How I Spent My Vacation earns the esoteric distinction of being the first original animated movie to be released direct to video in the United States. That sounds like a minor fact (and it is), but the movie's commercial success paved the way for a cottage industry of similar projects to flood department stores and video rental establishments for decades to come. It's also an entertaining and enjoyable snapshot of the time and place where it was created, showing its audience a glimpse of how the Looney Tunes were perceived by the world at large in the early 1990's.

Ryan is joined by Sylvan and Cheryl for a discussion of this meaningful pillar of millennial nostalgia. Talking points include the labored creation of Tiny Toons, why the home video market was considered an ideal platform for the characters, and how the very existence of Tiny Toons functions as an interrogation of Golden Age Bugs Bunny shorts and why their appeal has lasted as long as it has.

The smash success of Universal's 1931 Frankenstein adaptation made a sequel practically mandatory. Director James Whale felt that it'd be impossible to top the first film and was therefore reluctant to return, but the studio eventually lured him back with a juicy paycheck, a promise to greenlight one of Whale's passion projects, and nigh-total creative control over what eventually became Bride of Frankenstein.

Still assuming that the gothic atmosphere and graphic scares of Frankenstein couldn't be replicated, Whale chose to go in a more campy, theatrical, and melodramatic direction with the follow-up. While the production did run overbudget, Bride did strong box office and is now considered one of the few movie sequels to surpass the quality of its predecessor.

Ryan is joined by Cheryl and Sylvan for a close read of this beloved sci-fi horror comedy. Talking points include the story's approach to scientific advancement, the movie's very self-aware use of Christian allegory, and whether Bride's heavy application of queercoding was a conscious filmmaking choice by Whale (and whether or not that matters).

Taking place in a world where the United States and the Soviet Union are engaged in an arms race over shrink ray technology, Fantastic Voyage has the premise of a low budget B movie. 20th Century Fox, however, cast the film with prominent movie stars, spent lavishly on special effects, and promoted the film with an aggressive marketing campaign. While it didn't quite make it to profitability during its initial box office run, Fantastic Voyage easily made up for that shortfall when it came to television broadcasts and theatrical rereleases. Its basic plot, where a crew of scientists are reduced in size so they can enter the body of an injured man and perform delicate brain surgery from within, has been imitated and lampooned in countless films and TV programs.

Ryan is joined by Cheryl, Pete, and Sylvan for a roundtable deconstruction of this interesting time capsule of mid-60's Hollywood. Discussion topics include the general history of size changing in fiction, the film's reliance on Cold War paranoia, the historical context that informs the narrative of Fantastic Voyage, and why shrinking stories appeal to audiences across a wide array of historical eras and cultural dispositions.

Produced for an unusually high budget in the nascent years of the character, the seventeen animated shorts starring Superman marked a significant high water mark in the Golden Age of Animation. Crafted with care and using tech that was on the bleeding edge of film animation, the shorts were highly successful and made a significant impact on both the cartoon medium and the development of Superman as a pop culture institution.

Ryan is joined by Sylvan, Sarah, and Carlos for a long discussion about six of these colorful, intense, and expertly-stylized films. Talking points include war propaganda, Great Man Theory, objectivism, 1930's pulp tropes, the concept of the Übermensch, and how Superman gradually shifted from being a quasi-socialist champion of the oppressed to an arbiter of the status quo.

Produced on a whim by a bunch of art students in between their proper assignments, the first Don't Hug Me, I'm Scared Short went viral on YouTube. Centering on some hapless puppets experiencing existential horror through vividly graphic musical numbers, Don't Hug Me, I'm Scared struck a chord with an online audience receptive to its ambiguity and strangeness. The unexpected success of the initial video led to a crowdfunding campaign for additional shorts and, after a failed pilot, a television program.

Ryan is joined by Rachel for a closer look at the first run of Don't Hug Me, I'm Scared. Talking points include the deliberate uncertainty of the narrative, how the medium of online video affected perception of Don't Hug Me, I'm Scared, and what these shorts have to say about neoliberalism, individuality, and absurdism.

Riffing on Hans Christian Anderson's "The Little Mermaid", Ponyo centers upon a young sea creature who bonds with a little boy on the surface world. Their budding relationship, however, is put to the test when the fundamental balance of nature is placed in jeopardy by both magical interference and humanity's poor stewardship of the oceans.

Directed by Hayao Miyazaki with care and studious attention to detail, Ponyo connected deeply with audiences and grossed more than any other Studio Ghibli production to date.

Ryan is joined by Cheryl and Sylvan for a close look at this beloved film. Talking points include ecology, the revisions made to the source material, and ham.

One of the most popular authors to ever write anything, Agatha Christie would inevitably find Hollywood eager to adapt her work to the silver screen. As per usual, the quality of their many attempts has been uneven at best, but the enduring appeal of the murder mystery means that it's hard to imagine that we won't keep seeing new takes.

Murder on the Orient Express, arguably Christie's most iconic work, has gotten a number of high profile interpretations in cinema. Ryan, along with Cheryl and Sarah, examine the versions from 1974 and 2017 in this recording. Naturally, they compare the two films against each other in terms of acting, directing, and fidelity to the source novel, but thematic discussion also turns to class consciousness and the ethics of vigilante revenge killing.

Following the disappointing reception of X-Men: The Last Stand (2006) and X-Men Origins Wolverine (2009), Fox decided that a soft reboot of their superhero franchise was in order. Set in the 1960's, X-Men: First Class juxtaposes the formation of the team alongside the Cuban Missile Crisis and the usual metaphors regarding civil rights. A profitable film interpreted as a badly-needed course correction, X-Men: First Class resulted in three direct sequels and is still frequently cited as one of the better entries in the franchise.

Gigantic X-nerd Ryan is joined by Sylvan, Sarah, and Nicole for a discussion about this sleek, polished, nostalgic, and interesting film. Talking points include assimilationism, respectability politics, Kennedy-era optimism, and whether it's appropriate to use the Holocaust as a plot point in a superhero movie.

Largely greenlit because The Beatles felt that an animated feature would settle their three picture deal with United Artists without requiring much effort on their part, the cast and crew of Yellow Submarine were given a shoestring budget and a mere 11 months to crank out a completed movie. Somehow, the team supervised by director George Dunning and character designer Heinz Edelmann overcame these hurdles, delivering a cheeky, fantastical, and imaginatively surreal fairy tale that was quickly embraced by both Beatles fanatics and animation nerds.

Ryan is joined by Rachel for a conversation about this psychedelic work of pop art fancy. Discussion topics include the ever-shifting aesthetics of the film, the influence that Yellow Submarine had on later works, and the shadow that the Fab Four cast on the wider landscape.

Aside from Gone With The Wind, Meet Me in St. Louis is the most popular film released by MGM during the Golden Age of Hollywood. A lush, sentimental, and deeply nostalgic musical centered on a middle class family going through personal changes during the 1904 World's Fair, this film charmed critics, wowed audiences, got a heap of Oscar nods, established Vincente Minnelli as a director, and furthered Judy Garland's status as a romantic lead.

Ryan is joined by Sylvan for a closer inspection of this seasonal perennial. The behind-the-scenes drama of the film gets a fair bit of attention, but time is also taken to examine Meet Me in St. Louis as a holiday staple, a work of auteur filmmaking, and as a paean to a glorious past that never quite existed.

Originally written as a vehicle for Bill Murray, The Santa Claus was rebuilt around the comedic persona of sitcom actor Tim Allen and thrust into theaters shortly before the onset of the 1994 holiday season. While greeted with lukewarm reviews that damned it with faint praise, The Santa Claus was still a sizable hit that (briefly) established Allen as a movie star. This film also had legs; after several periods of dormancy, The Santa Claus was spun off into an enduring franchise.

Ryan is joined by Cheryl and Sarah for a closer look at this yuletide snapshot of 90's pop culture. Talking points include the film's approach to psychoanalysis, the shifting cultural attitudes towards divorce, auteur theory, and how Allen's brusquely "masculine" style of comedy plays into hegemony, the cult of tradition, and male insecurity

Due to their penchant for solving problems by punching things, superheroes aren't inherently conducive to Christmas stories. They can, however, function as handy counterprogramming in the same way as semi-ironic seasonal fare like Die Hard, Gremlins, or Silent Night, Deadly Night. As such, most popular superheroes have been featured in yuletide-themed fare over the years.

Ryan, Cheryl, and Jacinta are all dorky millennials, so it shouldn't come as a surprise that they feel that the pinnacle of superhero Christmas can be found in the DC Animated Universe, a series of cartoon programs beginning in 1992 with Batman: The Animated Series. For this recording, the three of them examine two holiday episodes of Batman in addition to an episode of the Justice League show that followed it.

In addition to elucidating upon the talents of producer Bruce Timm, writer Paul Dini, and the multitude of animators, directors, and voice actors who made these cartoons special, Ryan, Cheryl, and Jacinta delve into the evolution of the DCAU's art direction, how network censorship affected DCAU content, and what makes for a good TV Christmas special overall.

One of the most noteworthy slashers of its period, Candyman centers upon a Chicago semiotics student (Virginia Madsen) who blunders into the wrath of a supernatural folklore spirit (Tony Todd). Based on a Clive Barker short story that uses ghosts to symbolize income inequality in Liverpool, writer/director Bernard Rose moved the setting to Chicago and gave the narrative a subtext that comments on American racism.

Ryan is joined by Rachel for a lengthy discussion about this atmospheric, moody, and complicated film. While citing a handful of the extensive academic commentary done on Candyman, Ryan and Rachel remark upon how Candyman was made, the contemporary reactions to the film, and how its storytelling reflects America's relationship with urban decay, affordable housing, policing, superstition, symbolism, segregation, stereotype, and the white savior trope.

Loosely adapted from the metafictional children's novel written by Michael Ende, The Neverending Story centers upon a young boy (Barret Oliver) who gets immersed into a fantasy book whose plot seems to be magically affected by how it is read. The most expensive film produced outside of America or the Soviet Union at the time, The Neverending Story failed to catch on in an especially competitive 1984 film market in the United States. It did, however, sell lots of tickets overseas and, thanks to TV broadcasts and home video, attract a significant cult audience of fantasy nerds all over the world.

Ryan is joined by Cheryl, Toby, Pete, Sarah, and Jacinta for an intimate chat about this colorful and layered touchstone of 1980's pop culture. Discussion points include fatalism, post-modernism, and how the audience is the final collaborator in all works of art.

Centered upon the vivid imaginations of a family of anthropomorphic blue heelers, Bluey is an animated children's television show that has taken the world by storm thanks to its endearing characters, playful sense of humor, and emphasis on gentle parenting and unstructured play. In many ways, Bluey has captivated parents more than its target demo of toddlers; Sylvan is a big fan and their choice of Bluey as a podcast subject was pretty much inevitable.

Ryan and Cheryl are also present for a discussion centering on Bluey episodes featuring Muffin, a fan favorite character. Talking points include childhood development, friction between siblings, what it means for a kid to be "special", the reasons why millennials in particular connect with Bluey, and how Ben Shapiro's Bluey knockoff fails to understand the appeal of Bandit, Chilli, Bingo, and the gang.

Derived from Erica Schmidt's musical retelling of Edmond Rostand's oft-staged play, Cyrano stars Peter Dinklage as the titular protagonist. Caught in romantic intrigue alongside him is Haley Bennett as Roxanne and Kelvin Harrison Jr. as Christian. The basic plot of this version isn't too different from most of the traditional renditions, but several key alterations are present in both the text and the subtext of Cyrano; this is apparent both in the dialogue and in the songs composed by Aaron and Bryce Dessner of The National.

Ryan is joined by Sylvan and Cheryl for a discussion about this striking (if uneven) film. Talking points naturally include unrequited love, the pitfalls of escalating lies, and Sylvan's pet peeve about casting Hollywood musicals with actors who don't have professional singing ability.

Released when the Pokémon multimedia franchise was at the zenith of its initial mania, Pokémon: The First Movie received critical scorn but easily became an unqualified smash due to its passionate international fanbase of 6-11 year olds. Very much in this demographic is Latisha, who joins Ryan for an in depth talk about this interesting time capsule of late-90's pop culture.

Ryan and Latisha do go into Pokémon's origins in gaming and how it was quickly spun off into manga, anime, trading cards, and lots of other mediums, but much of the thematic conversation touches upon the film's commentary about animal cruelty, the then-recent advent of cloning, and existentialist philosophy. There's also discussion about what the central appeal of Pokémon could be, why it endured past its fledgling years as a fad, and what its influence on the wider world may be.

Looking to take on a more commercial project after the lackluster box office of the critically acclaimed The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928), writer/director Carl Theodore Dreyer decided that a horror movie was the way to go. Loosely adapted from Sheridan Le Fanu's story collection 'In a Glass Darkly', Vampyr was filmed on location in the French countryside with a cast primarily composed of non-actors. Its shoestring budget forced the filmmakers to rely on symbolic imagery and allusive atmospherics rather than spectacular effects work.

Vampyr was released to a severe critical drubbing and an actively hostile audience (a riot broke out in Vienna when dissatisfied theater patrons were denied a refund). However, Vampyr was reappraised decades later and is now considered an intriguing example of how artists of the silent era approached the advent of talkies.

Ryan is joined by Sarah and Cheryl for a close look at this evocative cult film. Discussion points include Vampyr's debt to German Expressionism, its key place in the evolution of the cinematic vampire, and the religious subtext of its storytelling.

Writer/director Nicholas Meyer is best known for his contributions to the better Star Trek films of the 1980's, but he was noticed by the Federation due to Time After Time, a quirky romcom in which a time traveling H.G. Wells pursues Jack the Ripper across 1970's San Francisco. Anchored by a cast that includes Malcolm McDowell, David Warner, and Mary Steenburgen, Time After Time charmed audiences and has been spun off in a multitude of ways.

Ryan, Cheryl, and (especially) Sylvan were far less charmed by Time After Time; the general consensus among them is that this movie is dated, clumsily edited, and oddly reactionary about the subjects that it claims to be progressive about. Discussion topics for this recording include the fetishization of serial killers, how H.G. Wells' socialist beliefs are addressed in Time After Time's stated text, the storytelling's ambivalent approach to feminism, the sexual tension between the protagonist and the antagonist, and the reason why everyone in this film runs like a Muppet.

Based on Koji Suzuki's 1991 novel and loosely remade from Hideo Nakata's 1998 film adaptation, the 2002 Hollywood take on The Ring was a sleeper hit that shrewdly played off a number of prevalent trends found at the turn of the millennium (it lifted its color palette from The Matrix, it featured a precocious child character like the one found in The Sixth Sense, and it engaged in a guerilla marketing campaign like The Blair Witch Project). The Ring also set off a few trends of its own; among other things, a whole bunch of American remakes of Japanese horror movies were produced in its wake.

Ryan is joined by Sylvan for a chat about this popular and well-remembered horror movie. Discussion topics center upon the cultural ubiquity of ghost stories, how The Ring crafts inversions of collective hopes about the afterlife, the reasons for the surprisingly long cultural reach of the movie's score, and the story's subtext when it comes to free speech and journalism.

The fifth installment in the Child's Play/Chucky franchise, Seed of Chucky involves the titular killer doll starting a family. While noted upon its release for leaning into the campier elements of the slasher genre, Seed of Chucky might be distinguished more by its focus on transgender themes, an uncommon practice in Hollywood during the turn of the millennium.

Ryan is joined by Pete, Cheryl, Sylvan, Toby, and Mordecai for an examination of this interesting cinematic time capsule. There is some discussion about this franchise's discomforting use of the voodoo religion as a plot contrivance, but most of the dialogue is focused upon interpreting Seed of Chucky through a queer lens. What parts of Seed of Chucky feel oddly prescient today? Which parts feel dated?

If you want our take, you're going to have to listen to the episode.

Bigger, bolder, more ambitious, and more character-driven than its predecessor, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 also got better reviews and took in a heftier box office. It is often cited as one of the few MCU movies that possesses a distinct visual character and a unique directorial voice.

Ryan is joined by Toby, Cheryl, and Sarah for a conversation about this rousing, emotive crowd pleaser. Talking points largely center on the movie's embrace of humor, needle drops, and found family narrative dynamics; Rocket's penchant for self-sabotage, Nebula's resentment of Gamora, and Star-Lord's daddy issues are prominent motifs throughout the dialogue. Space is also given to how Guardians plays things fast and loose with its source material; the dynamic reinterpretation of Mantis being a primary focus.

Among the most successful and beloved films in the expansive Marvel Studios catalog, Guardians of the Galaxy was initially seen as a bit of a risk due to its offbeat character designs and obscure source material. However, because of strong performances, a fun array of needle drops, and storytelling that judiciously balances humor and heart, a sci-fi movie about a sentient tree and a talking space raccoon made over $700 million at the international box office and was soon spun off into a multimedia franchise.

Ryan is joined by Cheryl and Toby for a close look at this rollicking, humanistic crowd pleaser. Talking points include the film's emphasis on character over plot, the weird indifference that the MCU has for action scenes that are supposedly the main selling point for movies like this, and how Guardians of the Galaxy is a uniquely personal mutation of special effects-driven popcorn spectacles of past decades.

Featuring lavish sets, elaborate makeup effects, numerous references to European folklore, and ascending new superstar Tom Cruise as the main protagonist, Legend was director Ridley Scott's attempt to transfer the appeal of the fantasy genre from the printed page to the silver screen. It failed to attract much of an audience while in theaters, but Legend gradually acquired a following through home video and frequent broadcasts on basic cable. As such, the film has enjoyed a long cultural afterlife (with Tim Curry's memorably hammy performance as the villain playing no small part in this fact).

Ryan is joined by Cheryl, Pete, and Sarah for an in-depth discussion about the original American theatrical cut of Legend. Naturally, since this is one of those movies where multiple versions have gotten an official release, there's some talk about how each one differs in terms of length, tone, editorial direction, and soundtrack. There's also a conversation about how Scott's willingness to water down his storytelling and hack the movie to pieces betrays a lack of trust in his audience.

The most popular, visible, and imitated member of The Three Stooges by a significant margin, Curly Howard's manic physical comedy, childlike comedic persona, and arsenal of catch phrases were often perceived as the core of the comedy team's popular appeal. Often seen as a tragic figure beyond the camera, Curly Howard's various addictions and excesses would torpedo his private life and ultimately lead to an early grave.

Ryan is joined by Rachel for a discussion of four short films that aptly represent Curly Howard's influence on both The Three Stooges in particular and comedic filmmaking in general. The sharp dichotomy between the public and private life of Curly Howard is talked about in depth, but time is also taken to touch upon the ambivalent legacy of Curly, how academic scholars undervalue physical humor, and whether Curly Howard might even be a bit underrated in the idiom of American comedy.

Spaceballs yielded mediocre box office returns and was widely criticized as a creative misfire for director/co-writer/supporting actor Mel Brooks, but it quickly found an audience through home video and constant broadcasts on basic cable. By lampooning the culturally-omnipresent Star Wars franchise, Spaceballs served as an accessible entrypoint for younger people looking to get into Mel Brooks' filmography; for many born well after Brooks' heyday in the 1970's, Spaceballs is often the first Brooks film they see and form a connection with.

Ryan is joined by Cheryl, Sylvan, and Toby for a closer look at this surprisingly durable little spoof movie. The first topic of discussion is whether Spaceballs' blend of lightly risque humor and mild satire makes it ideal for 12 year olds in the same manner that Saturday Night Live, National Lampoon, Mad Magazine, and Weird Al have connected with tween audiences in the past (Toby, an actual 12 year old, was brought in watch Spaceballs for the first time in order to serve as a test case).

Other conversational points include Spaceballs' connection to screwball comedies of the Golden Age of Hollywood, whether or not Brooks watered down his incisive edge throughout his 80's work, how Spaceballs plays into the blockbuster trends of the era it came out in, and how Spaceballs is unique in the Brooks catalog since he's poking fun at a younger colleague rather than the work of a contemporary or a predecessor.

Shortly after Bad Taste (1987) and well before The Fellowship of the Ring (2001), Peter Jackson directed a lowbrow Muppets parody entitled Meet the Feebles. Taking place on a puppet-run variety show comparable to what Kermit and the gang typically do, the anthropomorphic animals in this film spend a bit more time doing drugs, shooting porn, having Viet Nam flashbacks, and plotting against each other. Released to mixed reviews and indifferent box office, Meet the Feebles crawled its way to cult status after wizards and hobbits made its director a household name.

Ryan is joined by Rachel for an examination of this cheap, wayward cousin of Jim Henson's oeuvre. Discussion topics include the limitations of shock humor, the purpose of satire, and which Muppet lampoons work the best.

The success of Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (1988) demonstrated that splashy cartoon crossovers would grab a great deal of attention. One of the more odd and timely results of this fact was Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue, an anti-drug PSA where Bugs Bunny, Papa Smurf, Garfield, Alf, Winnie the Pooh, and Michelangelo team up to stop an adolescent boy from getting addicted to crack.

Spurred through production by Roy Disney and financed by McDonald's, Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue was broadcast on every major TV network in numerous countries and, as such, was very widely seen (75% of American televisions tuned in to the special). It got a VHS release in 1990, but the complex licensing issues have kept it from reissue on physical media or streaming in the decades since. It is, however, pretty easy to find on unofficial channels; Ryan, Sylvan, and Cheryl had no trouble locating a watchable upload.

As one can readily surmise, Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue is loaded to the brim with subtext. Discussion topics for this one include the shortcomings of the Reagan-era "Just Say No" initiative, how the War on Drugs accomplishes the opposite of its stated agenda, the ways that the prison industrial complex perpetuates unjust persecution of drug use, and why provably effective means of harm reduction are still struggling to attain mainstream acceptance in the United States.

Session 9 is a mediocre horror movie released to a collective shrug at the turn of the last century. It is, however, notable to Ryan, Sylvan, and Cheryl since it was filmed in their hometown and set at Danvers State Hospital, a reputably haunted mental institution that inspired H.P. Lovecraft's Arkham Asylum and therefore sits in the core of local legend.

In particular, this film gives Sylvan, who holds a degree in public history, a reason to delve into the complex and interesting backstory of Danvers State; the discussion ties the rise and fall of the hospital to how the United States has approached mental health over the course of the past 150 years. Other talking points include the evolution of ghost stories, the effects of deregulation, and how religious tradition affects every other topic that comes up in the conversation.

Infamous exploitation film producer Thomas Fries, hoping to kick start a slasher movie franchise comparable to Halloween or Friday the 13th, greenlit Phantom of the Mall: Eric's Revenge, a project that retold Phantom of the Opera in a suburban mall with superfluous nudity, splatter effects, and several kung fu fight sequences. Quickly churned out with little care and even less in the way of budget, this film was soundly rejected by both critics and audiences; even fans of campy horror cheese tend to have ambivalent feelings about this one.

So, why is Phantom of the Mall: Eric's Revenge being covered by this podcast? Well, this mostly happened because it was Cheryl's turn to pick the movie and she was curious about this one. Ryan strains a bit to come up with subtextual issues to discuss, but he ultimately settles upon themes of patriarchy and entitlement that are present in the 1910 source novel (he also compares the film to Batman Returns and Venus in Furs). Sylvan and Pete are along for the ride.

Following the commercial disappointment of artistically ambitious films like Citizen Kane (1941) and the Magnificent Ambersons (1942), RKO began shifting its priorities towards workmanlike crowd pleasing instead of chasing Oscars. Among other things, this meant restructuring its B-movie division. Producer Val Lewton was brought in to oversee a series of films intended to compete against Universal's Monster line; this meant that each movie would be made with a tight budget, run for less than 75 minutes, and be built around a lowbrow, attention-grabbing title provided by executives.

Lewton, an experienced pulp writer and talented filmmaker, turned these restrictions into strengths and produced a series of surprisingly artful horror movies renowned for their evocative atmosphere and bold characterization. His first effort for RKO, Cat People, used its shapeshifting werecat premise to tell a dynamic story about feminism, sexual repression, and the immigrant experience.

Ryan is joined by Sylvan and Rachel for an in-depth conversation about this moody, revealing film. Talking points include the value of the jump scare, how the storytelling plays into traditional folklore, and how Cat People can be read as emblematic of the queer experience.

Shamelessly churned out to capitalize on the success of Shirley Jackson's megahit horror novel The Haunting of Hill House, this low budget thriller was given the legally distinct title of House on Haunted Hill in the hopes of tricking audiences into thinking it was an official adaptation. That should give one an indication of what to expect from the film, a gimmicky cavalcade of lowbrow cheese held down by the hammy charisma of Vincent Price and the workmanlike proficiency of director William Castle.

Ryan is joined by Cheryl for a conversation about this scruffy, corny, and likable work of cheapo schlock. Talking points include the appeal of cheeseball marketing stunts, the distinction between horror and terror, Friedrich Nietzsche's theories on art criticism, and Hollywood's ongoing struggle to put butts into seats.

Released during a period with increased competition from rival studios, Meet the Robinsons marks a transitional period in Disney's approach to animated feature films. The company had just bought Pixar and appointed John Lasseter as chief creative officer. Meet the Robinsons was already nearing completion when this occurred, but Lasseter had at least 60% of the film redone before it debuted in theaters to mild critical response and disappointing box office.

While frequently written off as a minor entry in the Disney catalog, the massive size and reach of the Mouse ensured that Meet the Robinsons was nonetheless seen by thousands of people. It would unavoidably become the beloved childhood favorite of a plurality of Gen Z people, one of whom joins Ryan and Rachel to talk about how and why. Kate, making her debut here, waxes nostalgic about how Meet the Robinsons affected her collegiate career and her time working at Disney parks as a young adult.

Ryan talks about how Meet the Robinsons could potentially play into the sweeping long term plans of the Disney oligarchy. Disney, after all, has a long history of flops gradually attaining cult status and eventually getting reappraised into classic status.

Originally developed as a dramedy for Clark Gable, the success of Rodgers & Hammerstein's Oklahoma! compelled MGM to retool Harvey Girls as a musical romcom for Judy Garland. Boasting massive sets, lavish costumes, a saturated technicolor palette, and several elaborate song and dance numbers, Harvey Girls used all that frippery to tell a story about the wild west being tamed by the waitresses of a fast food restaurant. It was received with moderate critical praise, a healthy box office, and an Academy Award for its hit song "On the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe".

The text of Harvey Girls is featherweight by design, but its premise inevitably gives the movie a great deal of weighty subtext. Ryan is joined by Sylvan and Cheryl for a discussion of this oddly-constructed ode of nostalgic Western mythmaking. The thematic topics brought up in the conversation include Manifest Destiny, what brought about the commercial decline of Western filmmaking, what Harvey Girls says about the role of women in "proper society", and the arbitrary double standards applied to leading actors in Golden Age Hollywood.

One thing that kept popping up in the dialogue is how Harvey Girls blew many opportunities and missed a number of easy lay-ups (how do you bring Judy Garland and Ray Bolger onto a set together and then choose to have them NEVER interact in the final cut of the movie?) Also, Sylvan and Cheryl repeatedly express discomfort at Angela Lansbury being cast as the hardened administrator of the local bordello.

The leader of The Three Stooges both on and off the screen, Moe Howard's comedic role in the troupe usually boiled down to driving the plot and handing out slapsticky abuse to his subordinates. The trappings of vaudeville all but demanded that at least one of the performers take on such a role; Moe might be the epitome of such a thing.

Ryan is joined by Rachel for a close look at four Three Stooges shorts that prominently showcase Moe's abilities (this includes 1940's "You Nazty Spy!", often cited by Moe Howard as his personal favorite). Moe is Rachel's favorite Stooge, so she has a lot to say about his contributions to the act. Talking points for this one include Hollywood's approach to spoofing fascism, how perceptions of The Three Stooges changed with the advent of television, and why the Stooges are routinely overlooked by cultural tastemakers even today.

A TV miniseries created by animator Patrick McHale for Cartoon Network, Over the Garden Wall focuses upon two siblings who are lost within a strange, mystical, and existentially-threatening forest. Its emphasis on dark fantasy and 1890's pop culture provided stark contrast to the other fare being produced for children's television at the time, something that many found to be refreshing. Over the Garden Wall was greeted with enthusiastic reviews, strong ratings, and a bevy of awards. It has lingered in the popular imagination ever since.

Ryan is joined by Cheryl for a closer look at this gem from the mid-2010's. Discussion topics this time include Gilded Age nostalgia, the appeal of Old, Weird America, the atomization of mass media, and the show's thematic ties to death acceptance.

Often perceived as the first Hollywood blockbuster, King Kong casts an undeniably long shadow upon movie history. Its special effects, soundtrack, and emphasis on larger-than-life spectacle established precedents that big tentpole movie releases still follow to the modern day. A number of its images rival Gone With the Wind, Casablanca, Citizen Kane, Singing in the Rain, and The Wizard of Oz when it comes to Golden Age Hollywood iconography. Kong has never gone away, as evidenced by the barrage of sequels, reboots, remakes, rip-offs, and parodies that have proliferated in the decades since its 1933 release.

Ryan is joined by Rachel for an analysis of this towering figure in celluloid. Conversational topics include the movie's thorny relationship with colonialism, the story's perceived parallels with the history of American chattel slavery, how the franchise reflects notions of masculine exceptionalism, and why Kong gradually transitioned from villainous beast to monstrous hero.

While originally conceived as greeting card mascots with an accompanying toy line, the Care Bears debuted in a market where children's media was freshly-deregulated and immersed in shameless commercialism. It was perhaps inevitable that these characters would be spun off into an animated toy commercial that was barely masquerading as an entertainment property, but the success of the IP was far from certain. Still, despite its limited budget and rushed production schedule, the first Care Bears movie made a killing at the box office in 1985, outgrossing the much more expensive Disney effort The Black Cauldron. A theatrical continuation then become compulsory, resulting in The Care Bears II: A New Generation less than 12 months later. While it too was a cheap-looking cash grab, it made a healthy profit and encouraged the further development of a franchise that is still pushed to nostalgic millennials (and their kids) to this day.

Ryan is joined by Sylvan and Cheryl for a talk about this deeply cynical yet highly affecting franchise. Sylvan is the big Care Bears fan of the group and goes into detail about how the franchise explores emotional intelligence in ways reminiscent of kids TV icons like Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. Ryan, lacking too much to say about the Care Bears, makes strained comparisons to The Get Along Gang, Faust, the philosophy of Thích Nhất Hạnh.

Winner of the Palme d'Or at the 2021 Cannes Film Festival, Titane is about a serial killer (Agathe Rousselle) who goes on the run after she kills her parents and gets impregnated by a car. She winds up impersonating the long-lost son of a firefighter (Vincent London) and the two ultimately form a symbiotic bond that's based upon their respective emotional needs. Titane goes to some grim places, touching upon the work of David Cronenberg and John McNaughton.

Ryan is joined by Rachel for a discussion about this acclaimed work of modern horror. Thematic talking points include writer/director Julia Ducournau's comments on gender, Titane's boundary-pushing victories on the awards circuit, the movie's focus on interpersonal intimacy, and why the body horror subgenre has such a visceral effect on so many viewers.

This may be difficult to consider in an era where Disney is arguably the world's most powerful entertainment conglomerate, but there was a period where the company was in a precarious state (multiple periods actually, but we're talking about the postwar era). Disney was in massive debt in the late 40's and the company could've very easily gone under. The world might've become a very different place had the considerable investment in Cinderella had yielded a flop, but the 1950 film turned out to be the studio's biggest hit in decades. Cinderella's success put Disney back in the black, ensured the continuation of the studio's animated features, and gave Walt Disney enough capital to begin pursuing his goal of building a theme park in California.

The movie itself also set a number of noteworthy precedents for Disney fare. It's the first Disney movie to have its soundtrack get a commercial release, it's the first film to feature every member of the venerable animation crew known as "The Nine Old Men", it's possibly the first movie to feature multitracked vocal effects, and it solidified many of the tropes associated with the Disney Princess archetype. This one might be even a bigger deal to the Disney canon than you may assume; Cinderella's castle is in the official Disney logo for a reason.

Ryan is joined by Sylvan and Cheryl for a conversation about this impacting feature. Discussion topics include the history of the Cinderella story, the character's connections to the struggles of those working service jobs, whether Cinderella is too passive a figure in her own film, why Prince Charming is such a cipher in the movie, and why the mice steal every scene they're in.

Centering on two teens in the then-modern 1990's getting transported to the world of an idyllic (yet vaguely unsettling) 1950's sitcom, Pleasantville uses broad symbolic imagery to paint a picture about personal growth, the pressures of conformity, and the ever-lingering threat of authoritarianism. Gary Ross, the film's writer and director, was the son of a Hollywood screenwriter who was blacklisted by McCarthyism; that background infiltrates much of the movie's text and subtext. Pleasantville overtly uses visual metaphors lifted from both the Bible and fascist iconography. It makes pointed, unambiguous statements about everything from sexual repression to artistic modernism to conservative anti-intellectualism.

Ryan first saw Pleasantville at a formative age and it has remained with him ever since. He is joined by Rachel, who hadn't seen it before. Discussion topics include the movie's thematic connections to the work of David Lynch, the groundbreaking special effects used to manipulate the film's color palette, the historical memory of the 1950's in America, and what Pleasantville has to say about the notions of propriety and civility in public discourse.

A riff on the "supernatural board game" subgenre that was shot on a microbudget during the Covid-19 pandemic, Gatlopp focuses on four estranged friends who briefly reunite when one of them starts going through a tough divorce. Their awkward attempt to reconnect ultimately leads to them trying out the titular game, an experience that forces each of them to confront aspects of their lives they'd prefer not to acknowledge. Unfortunately for the players, Gatlopp promises damnation to anyone who can't (or won't) follow its rules.

Ryan is joined by Cheryl and Sylvan for an in-depth conversation about this deceptively introspective horror comedy. Thematic talking points this time include the strain of maintaining adult friendships, the parallels between this film's subtext and the pandemic that informed many of its creative decisions, and the inevitable comparisons to Jumanji and Zathura.

Spongebob Squarepants was far from a sure thing when animator Stephen Hillenburg pitched him to Nickelodeon executives, but the program quickly became a gigantic hit that transformed the network, the children's television landscape, and the millions of kids who watched the show religiously. Combining well-defined characters with absurdist humor, vaudevillian gags, and a surreal reality, Spongebob inspired and enchanted a legion of children and adults.

Ryan was never really swept up in the Spongebob fandom, so he brought on Rachel and Riley to discuss how the show impacted them so deeply. Several core stories from Spongebob's first three seasons are discussed alongside an overview of the program's development and creative process. Discussion topics include Spongebob's connection to early Nicktoon Rocko's Modern Life, its spiritual debts to the Golden Age of Theatrical Animation, how perceptions of characters like Squidward and Patrick can change as one grows older, and why the first three seasons of Spongebob are far more revered than what came afterwards.

One of the most infamous celluloid turkeys of its time, the 1993 film adaptation of the Super Mario video game franchise suffered from a disinterested IP holder, thousands of rewrites, an annoyed and confused cast, and a disastrous shoot supervised by an inexperienced directorial team. The film bombed hard with both critics and the few people who willingly paid for a ticket, but the movie did clog up video rental shelves and basic cable timeslots, so it's not without its apologists. When compared to the sleek, polished, and heavily-focus grouped blockbusters of the modern day, Super Mario Bros feels like an oddly-unique failure; box office flops are not typically produced at this level of scale all that often.

Ryan is joined by Cheryl and Toby for a detailed analysis of this bizarre train wreck of a film. Discussion points include a brief overview of Mario's evolution as a character, the film's rampant imitation of cinematic trends of the day, and how the early internet preserved interest in this movie's existence.

Derived from the popular (and controversial) stage musical composed by Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber, Norman Jewison's 1973 version of Jesus Christ Superstar is a deeply timely reflection of the spiritual and socio-political issues gripping the environment that produced it. While a box office success that garnered attention from prestigious award committees, Jesus Christ Superstar got ambivalent notices from both film critics and the men who wrote the songs used in the film itself. It also got some harsh attention from religious groups that accused it of blasphemy, historical revisionism, and antisemitism.

Ryan is joined by Sylvan, Cheryl, and Melanie for a thorough discussion of this intriguing and influential time capsule of a movie. Talking points include how movie musicals were perceived in the New Hollywood movement, how Jesus Christ Superstar played into how the film industry approached religious material in its era, the movie's attempts to humanize its divine subject matter, how the then-burgeoning evangelical movement affected perceptions of Jesus Christ Superstar, and the ways that the film approaches longstanding Jewish stereotypes in its subtext.

Based on the idiosyncratic comic series by Sam Kieth and William Messner-Loebs, The Maxx centers on a vagrant with delusions that he's a mighty superhero. While ineffective in the real world, The Maxx is powerful and important in the world of The Outback, a fantasy version of Australia that appears to be bleeding into reality. The Maxx's supporting cast includes "freelance social worker" Julie, a jaded rape survivor who helps/enables The Maxx. The main antagonist is Mr. Gone, a serial rapist who seems to have secret knowledge about Maxx, Julie, and The Outback itself.

Roughly a third of a comic series was adapted into 13 animated shorts that appeared on the anthology program MTV Oddities. The show was met with low ratings and critical confusion before it was quickly canceled, but the property itself has endured to some degree in nerd culture ever since. VHS and DVD releases were coupled with a role playing game and an audiobook. The comic itself got collected into paperback in 2003 with a remastered version following ten years later. A feature film has been in development hell since 2019.

Ryan is joined by Cheryl and Sylvan for an extensive discussion about this complex, singular, and surreal work of art. Talking points include the deconstructionist trend in 90's comics, how the feminine perspective is expressed in The Maxx, and what the show (and comic) have to say about rape culture. The philosophies of Camille Paglia, which are espoused by Julie in The Maxx, are given an examination as well.

While his screen persona is arguably the least defined of the Three Stooges, Larry Fine is frequently argued as the glue that holds the act together. While not as driven as Moe, as wild as Curly, or as physical as Shemp, Larry's role as the relative voice of reason (and his penchant for bizarre ad-libs) adds ballast to many a Stooges short. That, combined with his almost musically-acute sense of timing, means that studious viewers will easily find many ways in which Larry Fine's performance elevates the humor in most anything he appeared in.

Ryan is joined by Rachel for a close reading of four Three Stooges shorts, ranging from the very first one to Larry's personal favorite. A brief overview of Larry Fine's life, career, and legacy is also presented. Thematic talking points center on the philosophical possibilities inherent to comedy, a winding discourse that touches upon points made by Aristotle, Lenny Bruce, Kant, and Dave Attell. Naturally, Ryan and Rachel also discuss how the impact of the Three Stooges compares to the contributions made by the Marx Brothers, Buster Keaton, Laurel & Hardy, Charlie Chaplin, Mr. Bean, Richard Pryor, George Carlin, and Dave Chappelle.

Arguably the most ambitious and accomplished of the many, many outside media adaptations of Louisa May Alcott's 1868 coming-of-age novel, Greta Gerwig's 2019 take on Little Women scored rave reviews and high box office returns. Its studio, knowing that period dramas with lots of actorly moments tend to do well at the Oscars, campaigned hard for it during awards season (it got lots of major award nominations, but it won only a few fancy trophies).

Little Women is one of Sylvan's favorite things ever, so they suggested it to Ryan as a podcast subject. Little Women is a massive tome, so every film adaptation emphasizes different elements of the source material in their respective takes; there's lots of conversation about the choices that Gerwig made and how they contrasted against prior versions. Most notably, Gerwig chose a nonchronological structure for the film and inserts dialogue about the limited options most women faced in 19th century America. Ryan, Sylvan, and Cheryl touch upon that, but attention is also paid to Gerwig's more subtle directorial touches, the nuanced performances by all the major actors, and the movie's clever use of color grading as a storytelling device.

Plus, since this is compulsory for any and all discussions of Little Women, there's a brief dialogue about Jo's proper placement in the queer spectrum. 

One of the most acclaimed films of 2022, Everything Everywhere All At Once follows a struggling laundromat owner (Michelle Yeoh) as she navigates dealings with a stern IRS agent (Jamie Lee Curtis), her disapproving father (James Hong), her disappointed husband (Ke Huy Quan), and her distant child (Stephanie Hsu). Things take a turn when she gets roped into a wider struggle centered upon various alternate versions of herself from many parallel worlds. All of these realities involve figures making choices that led to radically different lifestyles, leading our protagonist to intense introspection, significant personal growth, and more than a little kung fu.

Made with a relatively small budget and crew, Everything Everywhere All At Once charmed critics and audiences with its abundant creativity, embrace of absurdist humor, and thoughtful exploration of both familial relationships and the Asian-American experience. Ryan is joined by Cheryl for a discussion about this game-changing feature. Cheryl chose this film as a subject because the mother/daughter interactions resonated with her on a personal level, so the dialogue touches upon that element of the film numerous times. Other talking points include nihilism, absurdism, Dadaism, how Everything Everywhere All At Once compares to other multiversal films, and the (dubious) scientific plausibility of the multiverse existing in real life. 

While Toy Story holds the distinctions of being the first computer animated feature film and the IP that established Pixar's brand identity, its endurance in pop culture goes far beyond its groundbreaking elements. Toy Story is a deeply emotive and humanizing film that also possesses great story structure, a deep bench of likable characters, and a warmly relatable sense of humor. Toy Story becomes all the more remarkable when one looks into the behind the scenes drama; there were hundreds of ways this project almost fell of the rails, but somehow everything came together exactly when it needed to.

Toy Story was the first movie that Rachel saw in theaters and it remains one of her personal favorites. She joins Ryan to discuss how this film comments on mortality, capitalism, existentialism, disillusionment, and the nature of purpose.

Ryan and Rachel also have a discussion about whether The Santa Claus or the Ernest movies are any good.