Severebutfair
Joined Aug 2023
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Severebutfair's rating
If you've ever wondered what it feels like to watch paint dry while being lectured by a creepy uncle who thinks he's poetic, look no further than The Night of the Hunter. For reasons completely unknown to anyone with functioning eyes and ears, this film is somehow considered a "masterpiece." Classic? Sure. A classic example of how cinematic groupthink can elevate pretentious nonsense into legendary status.
Let's talk about the plot-or what little there is of it. A creepy preacher (Robert Mitchum, mumbling his way through a role that people keep calling "iconic" for no discernible reason) goes around terrorizing children. Sounds like a horror movie, right? Except it moves at the pace of molasses and never decides if it wants to be a fairy tale, a thriller, or a 90-minute fever dream.
Charles Laughton's direction is hailed as "visionary." Visionary in what sense? That he managed to make a horror movie without tension? That he thought having people stand in doorways while staring blankly into space was a deep commentary on good and evil?
And can we talk about the acting? Every performance is pitched at the level of high school drama club trying way too hard. Mitchum's "LOVE" and "HATE" speech is supposed to be legendary. Why? Because he has knuckle tattoos? That's literally the most interesting part of the scene.
Even the cinematography, which critics love to drool over, feels like a film student's first experiment with shadows. Yes, there are cool visuals-if you're a fan of Dutch angles and awkward silhouettes of people sitting on horses for what feels like eternity.
Yet somehow, this movie sits at a staggeringly high 99% on Rotten Tomatoes. Ninety-nine percent! That's higher than most movies that actually have a coherent plot or emotional payoff. It's as if critics decided long ago that it's untouchable, and now everyone just plays along for fear of sounding uncultured.
In short: The Night of the Hunter is a slow, awkward, tone-deaf slog dressed up in arthouse cosplay. Watch it if you enjoy being bored by something that insists on its own importance while doing absolutely nothing to earn it.
Zero stars for the movie. Extra star for the unintended comedy.
Let's talk about the plot-or what little there is of it. A creepy preacher (Robert Mitchum, mumbling his way through a role that people keep calling "iconic" for no discernible reason) goes around terrorizing children. Sounds like a horror movie, right? Except it moves at the pace of molasses and never decides if it wants to be a fairy tale, a thriller, or a 90-minute fever dream.
Charles Laughton's direction is hailed as "visionary." Visionary in what sense? That he managed to make a horror movie without tension? That he thought having people stand in doorways while staring blankly into space was a deep commentary on good and evil?
And can we talk about the acting? Every performance is pitched at the level of high school drama club trying way too hard. Mitchum's "LOVE" and "HATE" speech is supposed to be legendary. Why? Because he has knuckle tattoos? That's literally the most interesting part of the scene.
Even the cinematography, which critics love to drool over, feels like a film student's first experiment with shadows. Yes, there are cool visuals-if you're a fan of Dutch angles and awkward silhouettes of people sitting on horses for what feels like eternity.
Yet somehow, this movie sits at a staggeringly high 99% on Rotten Tomatoes. Ninety-nine percent! That's higher than most movies that actually have a coherent plot or emotional payoff. It's as if critics decided long ago that it's untouchable, and now everyone just plays along for fear of sounding uncultured.
In short: The Night of the Hunter is a slow, awkward, tone-deaf slog dressed up in arthouse cosplay. Watch it if you enjoy being bored by something that insists on its own importance while doing absolutely nothing to earn it.
Zero stars for the movie. Extra star for the unintended comedy.
Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness is a glaring example of style over substance, a film that sacrifices meaningful storytelling for relentless, hollow spectacle. While the concept of a multiverse holds immense potential, this movie fails to leverage it in any innovative or engaging way, instead delivering a disjointed mess that feels more like a series of poorly connected set pieces than a cohesive narrative.
The plot, if one can even call it that, is a convoluted mix of undercooked ideas and contrived character decisions. The titular Doctor Strange, a character with immense potential, feels sidelined in his own movie, playing second fiddle to Wanda Maximoff's erratic descent into villainy. Wanda's arc, while rich in WandaVision, is reduced here to a caricature, turning her into a one-note antagonist driven by the flimsiest of motivations. The emotional depth and complexity that made her compelling are thrown out the window for cheap shock value.
Director Sam Raimi's signature style-known for its quirky horror elements-feels awkwardly shoehorned in, clashing with the established tone of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. The result is a tonal inconsistency that leaves the movie oscillating between moments of cartoonish horror and unearned sentimentality. Raimi's penchant for campy visuals might work in isolation, but here it feels jarring and out of place, detracting from the film's already fragmented narrative.
The performances are uneven at best. Benedict Cumberbatch seems to be sleepwalking through his role, offering little of the charm or gravitas we've come to associate with Doctor Strange. Elizabeth Olsen does her best with what she's given, but her character's drastic turn is so poorly written that even her talent can't salvage it. Supporting characters like Wong and America Chavez are reduced to plot devices, adding little depth or dimension.
Visually, the film is a mixed bag. While some of the multiverse sequences are visually inventive, others are cluttered and overwhelming, lacking the polish and creativity one might expect from a project of this scale. The heavy reliance on CGI feels uninspired, and the action sequences, though abundant, are devoid of emotional stakes or real tension.
Worst of all, the movie feels utterly disconnected from the rest of the MCU. For a film that promises to expand the multiverse, it does shockingly little to advance the overarching narrative or introduce compelling new ideas. Instead, it feels like a throwaway entry, more interested in setting up future projects than telling a satisfying story in its own right.
In the end, Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness is a frustrating, hollow experience - a movie that squanders its immense potential and ends up being one of the weaker entries in the Marvel franchise. It's an unfortunate reminder that even a universe as expansive as Marvel's is not immune to creative misfires.
The plot, if one can even call it that, is a convoluted mix of undercooked ideas and contrived character decisions. The titular Doctor Strange, a character with immense potential, feels sidelined in his own movie, playing second fiddle to Wanda Maximoff's erratic descent into villainy. Wanda's arc, while rich in WandaVision, is reduced here to a caricature, turning her into a one-note antagonist driven by the flimsiest of motivations. The emotional depth and complexity that made her compelling are thrown out the window for cheap shock value.
Director Sam Raimi's signature style-known for its quirky horror elements-feels awkwardly shoehorned in, clashing with the established tone of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. The result is a tonal inconsistency that leaves the movie oscillating between moments of cartoonish horror and unearned sentimentality. Raimi's penchant for campy visuals might work in isolation, but here it feels jarring and out of place, detracting from the film's already fragmented narrative.
The performances are uneven at best. Benedict Cumberbatch seems to be sleepwalking through his role, offering little of the charm or gravitas we've come to associate with Doctor Strange. Elizabeth Olsen does her best with what she's given, but her character's drastic turn is so poorly written that even her talent can't salvage it. Supporting characters like Wong and America Chavez are reduced to plot devices, adding little depth or dimension.
Visually, the film is a mixed bag. While some of the multiverse sequences are visually inventive, others are cluttered and overwhelming, lacking the polish and creativity one might expect from a project of this scale. The heavy reliance on CGI feels uninspired, and the action sequences, though abundant, are devoid of emotional stakes or real tension.
Worst of all, the movie feels utterly disconnected from the rest of the MCU. For a film that promises to expand the multiverse, it does shockingly little to advance the overarching narrative or introduce compelling new ideas. Instead, it feels like a throwaway entry, more interested in setting up future projects than telling a satisfying story in its own right.
In the end, Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness is a frustrating, hollow experience - a movie that squanders its immense potential and ends up being one of the weaker entries in the Marvel franchise. It's an unfortunate reminder that even a universe as expansive as Marvel's is not immune to creative misfires.
Max Miecchi's AI - Artificial Intelligence is an ambitious and thought-provoking short film that masterfully blends the human and the synthetic in a narrative as engaging as it is poignant. In a brisk runtime, Miecchi manages to deliver a film that is visually captivating, intellectually stimulating, and emotionally resonant.
From the opening moments, the aesthetic of the film grips you. The visuals are sleek yet grounded, capturing a world where advanced technology seamlessly integrates into daily life. The attention to detail in the set design and cinematography deserves high praise, as every frame feels purposeful, contributing to the storytelling without ever feeling heavy-handed. The lighting, in particular, is used to great effect, shifting from warm, natural tones in human-centric scenes to cooler, more clinical hues in AI-focused moments.
A Visionary Storyline
The narrative of AI - Artificial Intelligence explores the nuanced relationship between humans and artificial beings, avoiding the tired trope of machines as either saviors or destroyers of humanity. Instead, Miecchi delves into the gray areas, examining themes of identity, morality, and interdependence. The dialogue is sharp, often laced with subtext that invites viewers to think deeply about the implications of technological advancements.
One standout aspect is how Miecchi humanizes the AI characters, making them more than just tools or antagonists. By imbuing them with desires, flaws, and even humor, the film challenges us to reconsider what it means to be "alive." The emotional stakes are heightened by this empathetic portrayal, and the climactic scenes pack a punch because we care about every character, human or otherwise.
Performances That Shine
The cast is uniformly excellent, with every actor delivering nuanced performances that elevate the film's themes. The protagonist, played with incredible subtlety and emotional depth, anchors the film with a performance that feels both raw and authentic. The actor portraying the primary AI character deserves special mention; their ability to convey emotion with understated yet impactful expressions is mesmerizing, making the audience question where the line between human and machine truly lies.
Technical Brilliance
Beyond its narrative strengths, AI - Artificial Intelligence is a technical marvel. The sound design is particularly noteworthy, blending mechanical hums, synthetic tones, and natural soundscapes to create a sonic environment that mirrors the film's thematic concerns. The score complements the narrative perfectly, with haunting melodies that linger long after the credits roll.
The editing deserves applause as well, maintaining a brisk pace without sacrificing emotional beats. The transitions between scenes are seamless, and the film's climax builds to a crescendo that is both satisfying and thought-provoking.
A Message for the Ages
What sets AI - Artificial Intelligence apart is its ability to spark conversation. Miecchi doesn't provide easy answers or indulge in didacticism. Instead, he invites viewers to grapple with complex questions: What responsibilities do we bear toward the entities we create? How do we navigate the ethical dilemmas posed by advanced technology? And, most intriguingly, what does it mean to be human in a world where the artificial can so convincingly mimic the real?
Final Thoughts
Max Miecchi's AI - Artificial Intelligence is a triumph of storytelling, direction, and technical execution. It's a short film that punches well above its weight, leaving an indelible mark on its audience. Whether you're a fan of science fiction or simply someone who appreciates a well-told story, this is a film that demands to be seen.
In a world inundated with stories about artificial intelligence, Miecchi has managed to craft something truly original. AI - Artificial Intelligence isn't just a film-it's an experience, and one that will leave you reflecting on its themes long after the screen goes dark. Bravo, Max Miecchi! This is a masterpiece.
From the opening moments, the aesthetic of the film grips you. The visuals are sleek yet grounded, capturing a world where advanced technology seamlessly integrates into daily life. The attention to detail in the set design and cinematography deserves high praise, as every frame feels purposeful, contributing to the storytelling without ever feeling heavy-handed. The lighting, in particular, is used to great effect, shifting from warm, natural tones in human-centric scenes to cooler, more clinical hues in AI-focused moments.
A Visionary Storyline
The narrative of AI - Artificial Intelligence explores the nuanced relationship between humans and artificial beings, avoiding the tired trope of machines as either saviors or destroyers of humanity. Instead, Miecchi delves into the gray areas, examining themes of identity, morality, and interdependence. The dialogue is sharp, often laced with subtext that invites viewers to think deeply about the implications of technological advancements.
One standout aspect is how Miecchi humanizes the AI characters, making them more than just tools or antagonists. By imbuing them with desires, flaws, and even humor, the film challenges us to reconsider what it means to be "alive." The emotional stakes are heightened by this empathetic portrayal, and the climactic scenes pack a punch because we care about every character, human or otherwise.
Performances That Shine
The cast is uniformly excellent, with every actor delivering nuanced performances that elevate the film's themes. The protagonist, played with incredible subtlety and emotional depth, anchors the film with a performance that feels both raw and authentic. The actor portraying the primary AI character deserves special mention; their ability to convey emotion with understated yet impactful expressions is mesmerizing, making the audience question where the line between human and machine truly lies.
Technical Brilliance
Beyond its narrative strengths, AI - Artificial Intelligence is a technical marvel. The sound design is particularly noteworthy, blending mechanical hums, synthetic tones, and natural soundscapes to create a sonic environment that mirrors the film's thematic concerns. The score complements the narrative perfectly, with haunting melodies that linger long after the credits roll.
The editing deserves applause as well, maintaining a brisk pace without sacrificing emotional beats. The transitions between scenes are seamless, and the film's climax builds to a crescendo that is both satisfying and thought-provoking.
A Message for the Ages
What sets AI - Artificial Intelligence apart is its ability to spark conversation. Miecchi doesn't provide easy answers or indulge in didacticism. Instead, he invites viewers to grapple with complex questions: What responsibilities do we bear toward the entities we create? How do we navigate the ethical dilemmas posed by advanced technology? And, most intriguingly, what does it mean to be human in a world where the artificial can so convincingly mimic the real?
Final Thoughts
Max Miecchi's AI - Artificial Intelligence is a triumph of storytelling, direction, and technical execution. It's a short film that punches well above its weight, leaving an indelible mark on its audience. Whether you're a fan of science fiction or simply someone who appreciates a well-told story, this is a film that demands to be seen.
In a world inundated with stories about artificial intelligence, Miecchi has managed to craft something truly original. AI - Artificial Intelligence isn't just a film-it's an experience, and one that will leave you reflecting on its themes long after the screen goes dark. Bravo, Max Miecchi! This is a masterpiece.