bretthernan-02733
Joined Apr 2019
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bretthernan-02733's rating
I literally slept through Crowe's previous effort at horror, 'The Pope's Exorcist' and so was relieved to see that surely he'd learned from this mistake and, (in watching this rehash of something I soon discovered Hollywood had previously refused to make), I might not have an uninterrupted snooze ruin watching time, yet again.
Reading the comparitively overly descriptive single line plot synopsis by-line, I later assumed it an autobiographical documentary possibly somehow erroneously mistitled as 'horror' but no, Rusty's effort as a saggy, bloated, drug and drink addled hack actor on his way fast the wrong way down the exit ramp from previous pinnacle of Hollywood stardom success seemed an aptly appropriate casting and plot summation of a biographical documentary, however this deceptive description refused to entirely encapulate this steaming, straining effort, made by liars promising it to be a realistic take on the horror genre.
This film relies upon and revolves around an expectation of widespread post pedo-priest attrocity news revelations and their raising of an unfettered sense of seething public hatred towards aforementioned Catholic religiousity, but its weakly synthesised malleability with demonic possession is an expectation too far fetched for even the most pagan religiously ignorant to divinity professor turned apostate to consider possible as demoniac powers run riot and rifle unbridled, to commit acts scripturally illogical and pagan deemed utterly improbable.
So dreary turned it that I commenced writing this review prior to seeing how it even ends, so predictable was its meager range of potentisl plot termination scenario requirements. Very far removed from actual horror I found it, as its cliches approached so fast and thick that the truest horror of all was only in my potentially blowing my night's streaming time on those last unrealistic, jump scare reliant 27 minutes which I will, (in an effort clearly not reciprocated by the producers of this ultra cash grab), dutifully endure for the personal integrity of this review's sake), until the penultimate, predictably dire, 'climax' of the movie, which I can already tell, through the applicatio of my well honed cinematically experienced psychic powers, be remembered and categorised much like the series of fizz bombers recently sprayed out of a more than likely unknowing Bruce Willis as he declined into his unfortunately non comprehensive state, prior to his estate finally announcing, like a con artist inflicting the sting, to a bewildered very loyal global audience, that the last 26 films he made in the last two years of his career were a marathon effort to milk every last A-lister cent out of his audience before Bruce was rendered incapable of acting ever again and to achieve this his public had been deliberately kept ignorant of his medical diagnosis and symptoms which where by then sadly far too obvious to that audience, having clearly noted his choice of script based discernment was very much on the fritz of late and severely blunted the presence of his onscreen persona and gusto of his acting as his cognition declined into a near totally confused condition requiring he be fed fed his lines via an earpiece after being doggedly instructed to 'just repeat the words you hear in your ear', an indication that these last offerings of a few dozen past their use by dates, low budget stinkers someone had okayed on Bruce's part were produced only in order to make bank to see him and clearly his numerous relations, kept in the financial style to which they were accustomed and expected unceasingly to remain in, by using the commodity that was his name standing front and center on their cast credits list, as tragically palpable evidence that something was very wrong with his mental health considering what total rubbish they were.
If Crowe can't equally justify, in regards to his necessity to collect, asap, also due to some serious illness of a like variety, (not that this, in any way justifies ripping off the audience via their long held expectation that a certain star's name associates only with the finest films, a la who ever did that to sour Bruce Willis' reptation epitaph), as the motivation for his insistence on taking part in The Exorcism finds Crowe instead in good health thus doubly guilty of just pure bad taste in his script choice and the inability of an addict to resist a contractual signing fee beyond mortal imagining designed by the only actual demoniacs associated in any way with this film, that is, the ones possessed by greed and with whom he's happily joined forces to ensure he put his self bled, quill nib dipped signature on dotted line to guarantee his name forever be associated with this actual farce.
Now, to endure watching the last 27 minutes and see how right I am...
Reading the comparitively overly descriptive single line plot synopsis by-line, I later assumed it an autobiographical documentary possibly somehow erroneously mistitled as 'horror' but no, Rusty's effort as a saggy, bloated, drug and drink addled hack actor on his way fast the wrong way down the exit ramp from previous pinnacle of Hollywood stardom success seemed an aptly appropriate casting and plot summation of a biographical documentary, however this deceptive description refused to entirely encapulate this steaming, straining effort, made by liars promising it to be a realistic take on the horror genre.
This film relies upon and revolves around an expectation of widespread post pedo-priest attrocity news revelations and their raising of an unfettered sense of seething public hatred towards aforementioned Catholic religiousity, but its weakly synthesised malleability with demonic possession is an expectation too far fetched for even the most pagan religiously ignorant to divinity professor turned apostate to consider possible as demoniac powers run riot and rifle unbridled, to commit acts scripturally illogical and pagan deemed utterly improbable.
So dreary turned it that I commenced writing this review prior to seeing how it even ends, so predictable was its meager range of potentisl plot termination scenario requirements. Very far removed from actual horror I found it, as its cliches approached so fast and thick that the truest horror of all was only in my potentially blowing my night's streaming time on those last unrealistic, jump scare reliant 27 minutes which I will, (in an effort clearly not reciprocated by the producers of this ultra cash grab), dutifully endure for the personal integrity of this review's sake), until the penultimate, predictably dire, 'climax' of the movie, which I can already tell, through the applicatio of my well honed cinematically experienced psychic powers, be remembered and categorised much like the series of fizz bombers recently sprayed out of a more than likely unknowing Bruce Willis as he declined into his unfortunately non comprehensive state, prior to his estate finally announcing, like a con artist inflicting the sting, to a bewildered very loyal global audience, that the last 26 films he made in the last two years of his career were a marathon effort to milk every last A-lister cent out of his audience before Bruce was rendered incapable of acting ever again and to achieve this his public had been deliberately kept ignorant of his medical diagnosis and symptoms which where by then sadly far too obvious to that audience, having clearly noted his choice of script based discernment was very much on the fritz of late and severely blunted the presence of his onscreen persona and gusto of his acting as his cognition declined into a near totally confused condition requiring he be fed fed his lines via an earpiece after being doggedly instructed to 'just repeat the words you hear in your ear', an indication that these last offerings of a few dozen past their use by dates, low budget stinkers someone had okayed on Bruce's part were produced only in order to make bank to see him and clearly his numerous relations, kept in the financial style to which they were accustomed and expected unceasingly to remain in, by using the commodity that was his name standing front and center on their cast credits list, as tragically palpable evidence that something was very wrong with his mental health considering what total rubbish they were.
If Crowe can't equally justify, in regards to his necessity to collect, asap, also due to some serious illness of a like variety, (not that this, in any way justifies ripping off the audience via their long held expectation that a certain star's name associates only with the finest films, a la who ever did that to sour Bruce Willis' reptation epitaph), as the motivation for his insistence on taking part in The Exorcism finds Crowe instead in good health thus doubly guilty of just pure bad taste in his script choice and the inability of an addict to resist a contractual signing fee beyond mortal imagining designed by the only actual demoniacs associated in any way with this film, that is, the ones possessed by greed and with whom he's happily joined forces to ensure he put his self bled, quill nib dipped signature on dotted line to guarantee his name forever be associated with this actual farce.
Now, to endure watching the last 27 minutes and see how right I am...
Having seen this film on the coincidental same day as the lead actress' Inka Kallen's birthday, 30.09.2024, (when it was broadcast nationally in Australia on SBS World Movies channel), I consider it my pleasure to have this opportunity to supply a review hopefully drafted to counter the examples of bitter kneejerk detritus being offered as though representations in some way of actual and worthy summations of this film, which indeed, they are not!
The very fact that The Wait has roused within some self styled reviewers such viscerally angry responses explains volumes about the film's actual subtext and stands as a reflection of the evocative power this portrayal of complex human relationships exhibits.
What to the undiscerning may appear superficially as a simple story displaying the abjectly gratuitous, is very much more than that, despite thse aspects being explicitly suggested, their purpose is not to merely to excite and titilate the jaded, but to reflect the catharsis undergone within the emotional states of the beings here depicted.
Through recognition and application of the consideration the title requests of its audience, its narrative may be permitted to unfold, as it is a story requiring meditation upon the otherwise hidden motivations for each of these characters actions to reveal precisely what the title suggests this film about-that pause required to actually have an understanding of ourselves and others.
In essence, one character has been waiting for a love denied and dferred, but has decided to try to forget and instead accept being loved in expectation that if they wait then their own love will reciprocate this.
One is prepared to wait, despite the other not loving them as they do, upon the higher power of Love to fulfill what is lacking in their self, in others and in the one they love.
The other has acted without waiting, expecting the immediate fulfillment and reciprocation of a love they refused and that they are left to realise they have lost by neglecting and which they may now wait the rest of their life to find revealed... if ever.
There is vastly more to this film than I may attempt to explain only a few short hours after watching.
The Wait is a description of the conflict which comes when the residues of past decisions are forced by circumstance into confrontation with one another and what they are transformed into by that confrontation. It is a treatise on what it truly means to love.
Love, neglect, faithfulness, desire, penitance, revenge and forgiveness, these subjects are rarely confronted in modern film with the type of deeply contemplative rendering which The Wait displays in its narrative.
Like the sea, forest and sky so effortlessly depicted and accompanying this story with the presnce of a fourth lead player, what brews deep beneath and inside these elements has been hidden from us by The Wait, unless we choose to explore and hunt, seeking to find what lies within.
If you choose to, then you will find it worth the wait.
The very fact that The Wait has roused within some self styled reviewers such viscerally angry responses explains volumes about the film's actual subtext and stands as a reflection of the evocative power this portrayal of complex human relationships exhibits.
What to the undiscerning may appear superficially as a simple story displaying the abjectly gratuitous, is very much more than that, despite thse aspects being explicitly suggested, their purpose is not to merely to excite and titilate the jaded, but to reflect the catharsis undergone within the emotional states of the beings here depicted.
Through recognition and application of the consideration the title requests of its audience, its narrative may be permitted to unfold, as it is a story requiring meditation upon the otherwise hidden motivations for each of these characters actions to reveal precisely what the title suggests this film about-that pause required to actually have an understanding of ourselves and others.
In essence, one character has been waiting for a love denied and dferred, but has decided to try to forget and instead accept being loved in expectation that if they wait then their own love will reciprocate this.
One is prepared to wait, despite the other not loving them as they do, upon the higher power of Love to fulfill what is lacking in their self, in others and in the one they love.
The other has acted without waiting, expecting the immediate fulfillment and reciprocation of a love they refused and that they are left to realise they have lost by neglecting and which they may now wait the rest of their life to find revealed... if ever.
There is vastly more to this film than I may attempt to explain only a few short hours after watching.
The Wait is a description of the conflict which comes when the residues of past decisions are forced by circumstance into confrontation with one another and what they are transformed into by that confrontation. It is a treatise on what it truly means to love.
Love, neglect, faithfulness, desire, penitance, revenge and forgiveness, these subjects are rarely confronted in modern film with the type of deeply contemplative rendering which The Wait displays in its narrative.
Like the sea, forest and sky so effortlessly depicted and accompanying this story with the presnce of a fourth lead player, what brews deep beneath and inside these elements has been hidden from us by The Wait, unless we choose to explore and hunt, seeking to find what lies within.
If you choose to, then you will find it worth the wait.
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