Film Review: "Aquaman" (2018)

3 1/2 out of 5

During the big Lord Of The Rings style climax an army of sharks with frickin' laser beams attached to their heads are ridden like horses into battle against an army of crab-people until Aquaman explodes onto the scene riding, and this isn't a joke, on the head of C'thulu. Every other sin this movie commits beforehand (the bad Indiana Jones excursion, the awful de-aging, the stilted dialogue, the confusing drama) are all instantly forgotten in this one ridiculous display of batshit inanity. The climax of Endgame was dramatically satisfying but this satisfied in a way I didn't know I needed satisfied: it made me marvel at the pure ectatsy of stupidity like I was a kid again watching the king of farty blockblusters, Independence Day. Hello boys, I'm back.
The closest approximation to Aquaman that I can think of is the prequels. So much of this movie is obviously green screened even if it probably didn't need to be. Watching Aquaman's dad, Aqua-human-dad, stand on a CGI dock waiting for Aquamna's mom, Aqua-fish-mom, to show up is confusing considering that there has to be at least a few docks in America that someone would gladly let them film on. I'd let Jason Momoa hang out shirtless on my dock. Heck, give me a cameo as "Neighbor hidden in bushes #1" and I'd let him do it for free.
And the dialogue and plot are nonsenical with everyone except Momoa overacting their hearts out. Patrick Wilson is Evilman, the aryan half-brother to Aquaman, who delivers all his lines like he just jumped out of a saturday morning cartoon. Oh yeah, Dolph Lundgren is also a fishman and his acting is surpringly good, probably because his acting prowess is the exact level as this kind of flarp.
But it's so stupid it's amazing. There's a "Fight For The Throne" battle that pretty much the same thing we saw in Black Panther except this has a giant octopus playing drums. A GIANT OCTOPUS PLAYING DRUMS.
What elevates the comedy here is that this is all played up as though it's high Shakespearian drama. Meanwhile, as all the theatrics roll on Jason Momoa is acting like he's on the set of a light hearted movie about a surfer bro who just wants a hot slice of 'za and a couple cold brews. He's just hangin' tough the whole movie and has an acting range that goes from smirking to light grunting. And if Momoa wasn't oozing big dick energy all over the place none of this would work, but he's literally swanging that dong like a hypnotist at the circus who's about to make you cluck like a chicken and it saves the movie from itself.
Look, it isn't high art or Shakespeare or anything like the MCU. It's a sloppy, unintentionally funny mess of a blockbuster that's so silly you just gotta let 85% of your brain seep out of your ear while you ingest over salted popcorn and chug beers just to meet it where it needs you to. It's a big dumb spectacle so have a big dumb time watching while secretely oogling Jason Momoa's beefcake beefiness beef mess. Okay? Okay.