I may not have understood all the machinations involved in bringing our aquatic hero back safely, but I believed that Last Breath's helmer and cast knew what they were doing, and in the end, that was far more important.

I don't necessarily mind that, more often than not, new Marvel Studios movies require me to do homework. What bothers me is how often they make me do homework twice.

I absolutely adored this funny, nasty, intensely satisfying shiv to the gut knowing its hook in advance. The mind boggles at how much fun I might've had going in unprepared.

This ticking-clock slapstick is an inarguably slight, inconsequential thing. But it routinely delivers enormous pleasure, as well as continued evidence that Keke Palmer would be a massive big-screen star if Hollywood was still in the business of making funny, fast-paced, inherently meaningless comedies that left you feeling great. Whatever happened to those? Weren't they, like, the only movies we all collectively agreed were awesome?