Men in Black
They won't let you remember
Sinners (2025) was so legitimately fun, while still having tremendous depth, that it got me to thinking about the movies I loved, primarily for their “fun-factor” when I was young, and whether or not they might possess some hidden depth I’d missed. Men in Black (1997) was the greatest movie ever made, or so 12-year-old me would tell you back when it came out. It’s the kind of blockbuster that doesn’t really exist anymore—tight, weird, less than two hours, and almost entirely reliant on movie-star charisma. Men in Black is the dying platonic ideal of a Hollywood film: it’s breezy, charming, borderline nonsensical, and perfectly tailored to the chemical odd-couple energy of Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith.
The plot is almost beside the point, but for form’s sake: after chasing down what he thinks is just a freakishly fast perp in New York City, NYPD officer James Edwards (Will Smith) is recruited by the super-secret Men in Black, an organization that monitors extraterrestrial life on Earth. His recruiter, Agent K (Tommy Lee Jones), is a walking slab of deadpan who treats world-ending threats like a mild inconvenience. Together, they hunt down a rogue alien cockroach (Vincent D'Onofrio, one of his greatest performances) that’s planning something bad with a miniature galaxy hidden inside a cat’s collar. Again, the plot is not the point.
But what is the point? Style, tone, and Smith at his most charismatic. But even despite the fact that this is purely a Hollywood movie, there is substance hiding behind the veneer. This is a film that opens with a Border Patrol bust. (Human) Families hidden in a van are trying to get across the border and into America in the hopes that they might find a better life. When men from the government pull the van over, our brains tell us what will happen next: they will be detained and processed. When a second agency, with seemingly higher rank, intervenes and lets the immigrants go on their merry way, we understand the smallness of denying people a chance at a better life. As this subtle truth is sinking in, the film immediately pivots into bug-eyed aliens and memory-wiping sunglasses. It plays with immigration metaphors so loosely that you could write a college paper or completely miss them, and either way, you’d be right.
There’s something delightfully analog about Men in Black. The gadgets are physical, clunky, and whimsical—the Noisy Cricket might be the funniest sci-fi weapon since the Holy Hand Grenade. The aliens are part Rick Baker prosthetic genius, part Jim Henson fever dream. And the action sequences are short and goofy rather than grandiose, making room for characters to bounce off of each other.
Maybe most refreshing: it knows when to stop. Ninety-eight minutes and done. The experience leaves you knowing Will Smith is going to be a star, Tommy Lee Jones has always been a star, and that even the silliest movies might have depth previously unknown. There is a prescience in a line K says to J (Will Smith) midway through the film, when J is asking why the agency doesn’t trust people with information. J says, “People are smart.” K says, “A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals.”
Men in Black
Written by Ed Solomon; Directed by Barry Sonnenfeld
1997
98 minutes
English
Recommended way to watch (at time of publication): Available to rent on most services.
You’ll like this if you like: Ghostbusters (1984) The Nice Guys (2016) Galaxy Quest (1999)