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Leave Her to Heaven (1945)
Girlbossing till the bitter end
Altogether outrageously bold in its concept yet timid in execution. There is a lot to say about Hays Code and its effects on cinema, but for the purposes of this movie, one thing is for certain: Ellen would not tolerate separate beds. It's very hard to justify her obsession with keeping Richard for herself when their relationship seems so sexless and dispassionate. How would Danny even read the room when it got frozen overnight?
Conflicting with Code are insinuations of what made her this way. Certainly such an escalation could not have passed unnoticed by other members of the family. If she projects her father onto Richard, then surely she would have been as possessive of her dad. I'm not implying some incestuous underbelly. God knows even a hint of Electra complex wouldn't fly, but it sure feels like something was stricken from the script even if it wasn't the case.
Someone would have noticed something for sure and be able to point at it. Beyond "she loves too much."
Regardless of the murky origins of her psychosis, it is fascinating to watch. It's also mesmerizing to read feminist interpretations of her actions. That it's some dissatisfaction with gender roles, a rebellion, and not a simple, selfish desire to possess someone. It is really akin to claiming Buffalo Bill exemplifies MtF. What kind of relatable affection can you even feel towards a person who thinks killing someone's brother will just switch his attention to you? That's not even a sociopath. They wouldn't be this clueless.
The trial part stifles the film in my eyes. Too melodramatic and makes Richard convict for no reason other than it would have been more dramatic if he got martyred by the end.
The choice of being in technicolor sure creates amazing contrast between the beautiful and picturesque environment and what actually occurs. Not to mention how pretty Gene Tierney actually is and how this perfection is more terrifying when you consider what kind of gears are turning behind those gorgeous green eyes.
The Verdict (1982)
Only pursuit of justice is guaranteed
A very interesting role for Newman. Putting him in shoes filled with pebbles. It is an uncomfortable existence for a has-been who is painfully aware of how far he has fallen and how much dignity he has lost. Of course, on the surface, this is a courtroom underdog drama through and through. Except in this case, the dog virtually has no tricks left. I'd argue that the only reason he even set out to do the "right thing" was because he was sure he could win with a medical expert's testimony, and the moment the expert is removed, he tries to backtrack to a cash settlement almost immediately. The movie is all the more interesting for it. He doesn't have some amazing talent or the edge over the facts of the case. His questioning often misses the mark, his witness prep is awful, and he is being toyed with from the start. There lies the supposed problem with the ending. Some people do not like it because, despite all the setbacks and all the aces stacked against him, Frank still wins by sneaking in one surprise witness. He screwed up everything but this. It would be dramatic and realistic for the movie to end without giving a clear verdict. That would have been a more somber ending, just as it was originally planned before a rewrite. But not as satisfying or would accomplish anything for the character. Because outside of courtroom drama it's a story about his redemption, and not giving a clear answer would make it mute whether it even happens.
Newman is sure to be a powerhouse in that role. Nowadays, "realistic panic attacks" are all the rage, but instead of exaggerated huffing and puffing, in this movie it's more subdued and practical. It's truly one of his best roles.
Oppenheimer (2023)
Overly-pompous direction upheld by actual merit
This is one of those rare types of movies with a runtime of three hours that doesn't feel like that at all. Granted, this was achieved by submerging the movie in the barrel of obtrusive scoring and snappy editing. Don't get me wrong, it's good music, but I don't think I was closer to believing that Nolan pictures are edited like an unending movie trailer than after Oppenheimer. It never stops. It's just the matter of it being louder or intensifying. There are very few points where the movie doesn't try to whip up tension by aggressively pumping the score, making it feel like this is the most significant scene in the film, completely overwhelming you. To be fair, there is an upside to this. When during the test scene the movie finally shuts up, it is more effective in contrast. Too bad the explosion itself doesn't back up the supposed epochal scene. It really looks like a gas station going up. The buildup is stellar though. Everything is. I have no other complaints about anything. From acting to dialogue. Even Matt Damon, who from the trailers made me really anxious about what kind of level of hammy stuff we are going to deal with.
A lot of people are somewhat upset that the bombings were not shown. To that end, I have to ask, What movie have you been watching? The entire film is from two points of view. Oppenheimer and Strauss. All that you see is either what they saw or, in the case of Oppenheimer, his thought process in the abstract imagination. Even in the scenes where, seemingly neither are present, it turns out Strauss was in the room the whole time. There is one other scene where this rule was broken, when Kitty was imagining how he was cheating on her with Jean Tatlock. Another, supposedly, highly controversial scene, where the intended humiliation of Oppenheimer during the entire security clearance sequence was supposed to skip the actual humiliation, which happens to include the fact that he was cheating on his wife with a communist.
Strauss, on the other hand, is an aspect of the movie I do not know what to make of. It is a dynamic way of presenting information about Oppenheimer's downfall in a non-linear way. On the other hand, boy, is his character underwritten. The attempted rivalry akin to Amadeus falls flat. His inferiority isn't convincing and feels incredibly contrived. Uniquely when you consider that the entire affair is pretty accurate. Who doesn't help is Alden Ehrenreich. His "Aide" character really feels like a person in the room for Strauss to yell at so that he doesn't sound crazy talking to himself. Especially when this aide was supposed to embody the audience's contempt of Strauss by the end.
Mainly, the titular character is treated in a very nuanced way. There is clear pity for him, and the opening quote about Prometheus implies the unraveling events are his rock he is going to be chained to. Forever to be known as the man who turned invisible threads of matter into weapons and the man who (event pending) destroyed the world.
Peeping Tom (1960)
Daddy would be proud
That's what you get for trying to make the audience sympathize with mentally ill people. Complete oblivion and a stigma of a degenerate for you, Mr. Powell. Some might ask what's the inherent difference between Psycho and Peeping Tom when they essentially both dwell into the mindset of their subject and show that psychosis indeed originates from their childhood. Why was one lauded as classic and the other had to be reestablished by Scorsese for it to even gain any traction? What's the difference? Well, after carefully reviewing all the evidence and details, I can surmise it in one word. Britain. That's it. I'm not going to elaborate any further.
On a serious note, reading those contemporary reviews that have been almost scrubbed from existence is quite fascinating. It really seems like they didn't even comprehend what they watched. Out of context, it sounds like they watched the Serbian film, with one reviewer going on a lengthy comparison of the movie to the Indian slums and gutters of Calcutta.
What confuses me the most is that no matter how much you'd be appalled by murder or two second long shots of naked breasts. You had to at least on some level recognize that what Mark was doing had less to do with sexual gratification and more with extracting "genuine" fear from his victims. You can claim that the creators were just masking voyeurism under this pretense. Because even back then they realized that making Mark's impulse sexual in nature would absolutely blow them right in the face. I guess they underestimated their island's need to be outraged.
Mark's character is all the more interesting for it. Despite working for porno studios, he's seemingly not aroused by any of it and, in some scenes, looks at it with veiled contempt. I, for one, would even say he has too much going on.
His attitude about what he is doing is that he'd only swing once, so he sacrifices his self-preservation or even common sense. He treats his camera like it's a person. He is simultaneously afraid of attachments to anyone because they inevitably go into "fear compilation" and yet attracted to specific physical traits of people to the point of it clearly being a fetish. No one seems to notice this except blind mother, whose bourbon-filled mind can sense the dread radiating from him.
The acting has bits of melodrama, but it's par for the course for the 1960s. Karlheinz Böhm, however, displays great ability to showcase quiet melancholy and how his father conditioned him to chase the authentic, premium fear. It is required viewing, just to spite Brits, for they really didn't want anyone to see it.
Vacation (2015)
Typical cruddy comedy
I find it difficult to feel any frustration regarding the existence of this, as its creation was unavoidable.
It sure justifies its R rating. I always thought that the more edgier parts of the original were so hard-hitting, precisely because of how sparingly it was used. Here, describing it as "vulgar" would be a compliment.
I'd say it dilutes the gags, but there is no other kind of humor here, and it's not to say there weren't good ones. They throw so much jokes at the wall, something's got to stick, beyond endless bouts of screaming that are supposed to make you laugh. Remember, the louder, the funnier.
But by all intents and purposes, this is a remake, or, as the movie self-consciously degrades itself to be, a soft reboot. Same setup, same destination, almost the same stops. Except instead of cousin Eddie, it's Audre and Uncle Stone, but he is rich and hot. That's different. The other thing that is different is that none of the situations are relatable anymore. The absurdism is dialed to a point of becoming nonsense for the sake of squeezing a laugh because of how miserable the situation is. Ah yes, everyone can relate to jumping into the sewage water, mistaking it for hot springs, or taking a raft tour with a guide that tries to kill you. So relatable.
But let's just say it's the same premise but a different kind of humor, not John Hughes, more like Seth MacFarlane.
The characters have very little going on, and the tacked-on insecurities of Rusty about his work and marriage feel very insincere. Coupled with the fact that the intelligence of family members varies from scene to scene.
Specific point of contention for me was Steele Stebbins. It's a tough gig he has there. He has to play an absolute sociopath of a kid, and he doesn't sell, and I don't believe that even if the brothers were the same age, he would take him seriously. He is the most unconvincing bully I have ever seen.
Christmas Vacation 2: Cousin Eddie's Island Adventure (2003)
More of a symptom of the downfall of the NL than anything
You can't expect a lot from a TV movie with such a "laconic" title. Neither can you really give any benefit of the doubt to what you can clearly see on the poster.
Everyone is getting paid there, and you get to suffer. Despite being 80 minutes, this movie feels much longer, especially the second half, where pacing grinds to a halt.
Because aside from the premise of family getting stuck on the island, there wasn't much thought put into this. Oh, I guess it's Christmas. Don't you forget it. Because the actors won't let you forget. They remind you it's Christmas every 5 minutes because otherwise, looking at this backlot of the California coast, you will let it slip from your mind.
Stating the obvious, cousin Eddie is not a good leading character, and there is nothing in his endless string of imbecilic faces that can be constituted as humor.
Did you know that cousin Eddie is dumb? This movie will clue you in on this, in the multitude of tedious pantomimes.
Dana Barron is clearly for paycheck. Edward Asner could not give less of a damn. Most of the lines give the impression of being unscripted.
Jake Thomas was not directed at all, so his every line comes off as grating to your every sense. Everything looks and sounds awful, even when it comes to something frivolous, like costumes. Who in their sound mind looked at the script and location of the tropical Hawaii island and decided to permanently seal Randy Quaid in this tight white shirt with sleeves? Isn't it supposed to be hot and humid? What, did actors protest seeing his gut hanging out? What's the story here?
The single aspect that works the way it's supposed to was Lee Sung Hi. Clearly an eye candy, and my eyes were sure pleased, as cynical as it sounds.
Vegas Vacation (1997)
He finally made them happy
I find disdain for this movie to be unjustified. Sure, the premise is nothing to write home about. The whole "nuclear white family in the city of sin" isn't nearly dialed up enough.
But what majorly distinguishes this movie from every other Vacation is that Clark is the one who is utterly miserable. By all intents and purposes, he achieved what he set out to do. His family is happy. They love this vacation. The caveat is that they like it without him around. The plot lines the kids get are far more interesting than what Clark gets up to. His duel with a blackjack dealer is not the most exciting thing to watch because you know he won't win, so what's the point?
On top of that, the most hilarious part is Clark eventually flipping out and pompously dragging each family member out of their happy place to be with him. Because if he is not having fun, no one will.
Cousin Eddie is looming over the cast as usual. Probably the most likeable iteration of this character. Of course, his popularity directly resulted in Christmas Vacation 2, so I don't know how to actually feel about it.
National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (1989)
Expectations and reality
The plight of Clark Griswold is that he chases something he built up in his mind with the religious zeal of a fanatic. I highly doubt that anyone would even bother with 10% of what Clark fixes up for his Christmas preparations. Of course, what he doesn't take into consideration is the same thing he didn't in all of the previous movies. Nobody wants any of that more than him. This time for the "quest for fun," the entire extended family is taken hostage.
There are a lot of gags, and most of them work, like the cat one. It's all up to taste. What's not up for discussion is the opening theme song. If you don't like it, there is something objectively wrong with you. Actually, that goes for the entire soundtrack.
The fundamental story of the bonus and pool is so predictably telegraphed that I thought the movie was just screwing with you and it's not going for that route. The same route it went the last time with Roy Walley realizing how Griswolds are such a good family and forgiving them, but it did. I guess you've got to have a Christmas miracle after all. This is where you can see why it's revered so highly; there is a palpable sense of Christmas and homeliness permeating throughout the picture. Even if it actually was shot in a sound studio with no real snow in sight for most of it. Movie magic.
National Lampoon's European Vacation (1985)
On a road to nowhere
The often repeated platitude that "it's not the destination, it's the journey that counts" might be true some of the time. Except when it comes to such movies, I kind of want to at least know what's the goal because the more episodic the journey becomes, the less you care. In the original Vacation, the end goal was 'not Disneyland,' and the question was if they were going to make it there in one piece or in sound mind. In European Vacation, I guess even the creators didn't know how to finish or where this trip was going because Griswolds abruptly got roped into a robbery subplot. I legitimately thought it was going to be the sex tape parents filmed that was going to be the cornerstone of the last act, but it is more of a one-off gag. Actually, almost everything here is treated as a cutaway gag. Mostly because they have to move locations, so nothing lasts or builds on anything. What does not help is that the R rating is gone. And despite the movie flashing breasts left and right, the edginess is gone with that rating, aside from a couple of quips. There is just no bite to anything.
Some of those isolated scenes I quite liked. Like the train scene where they all four purposely annoy each other. That was such a great dynamic, but it doesn't exist outside of this one scene. I guess we should be grateful it wasn't cut.
The main annoyance for me is the kids. I know it's very rude to comment on someone's appearance, but this is the ugliest brood imaginable. Yes, I know that Dana Hill had severe diabetes that eventually took her life in her 30s, but I just can't help it; her shrill voice and the manner of speaking are so off-putting. Same with Lively, whose sole shtick through the entire movie is to pick a girl that is so out of his league that I guess it's supposed to be comical, but it is never portrayed as such.
National Lampoon's Vacation (1983)
Trip on the wings of overcompensation
Comedy that is as much of a classic as it is a flashpoint of R-rated comedy of the 80s. In fact, I don't think much of its success is due to anything but its edgy humor. Some of it supposedly offensive by now, you know, can't show black people committing crimes in the movie where the main protagonists do much worse things. Thankfully Harold Ramis repented, or something like that.
You might at first cringe at the excessive edginess, but if you were to watch the next entries in this movie series, this R-rated vulgarity is sorely missed. It's not like the naked Beverly D'Angelo and dead dogs are all this movie has to offer, but it hits just right when, after the whole movie of patience, Clark does his "You are all f*cked in the head" spiel. You had to use it sparingly, and they knew exactly how to do it.
Otherwise, the set pieces are enjoyable and varied, the soundtrack is amazing, and there are a huge amount of gags to appeal to everyone. Clark's bizarre mind set of taking his family hostage to fulfill his need for bonding even if he couldn't give less of a damn about what they actually want makes the whole thing hilarious from start to finish just based on this premise.
The Offer (2022)
Veneration of Hollywood
Covering from the producer's point of view, it is very tricky to understate how much it pretends Ruddy almost solo carried the production. While everyone else was an equivalent of a cat just necessitating being shepherd by him.
Some sequences are put to life authentically, like Brando's audition at his home. Even kimono and ponytail included. But some are so exaggeratingly fake it hurts. From dead rats in the hotel to concocted warning with a sawed-off to the rear car window.
Some characters are flanderized. Coppola is a notoriously difficult director, but the series went out of the way to show him as some impudent child who just screams at Ruddy to fix it. Who pouts and scowls when everything is not perfect, and I'm sorry if this comes off as some Coppola fanboy talk; this is just not true. The part where to counter his impending firing after the first week he fires several people on his own is given to Evans and Ruddy.
The other part is Paramount shamelessly jacking off and splurging all over the carpet in this shameless grandeur of "we are making movies, God damn it." Thankfully, Matthew Goode elevates this entire section, one stylish outfit at the time. Great to watch and interesting to listen to. Incredible casting and portrayal that sells the upper mentioned shameless pampering.
The parallel between mafia and movie studios is also ostensible but not as compelling as it thinks it is. Which makes it feel very tacked on by the end.
Paul, Apostle of Christ (2018)
Doubts and soul of one of the most influential apostles
As trials and tribulations of the last days of Paul, this movie might fit the bill. But if you want to learn anything more than that, you are out of luck. Beyond the blinding light on the road and rumblings of regret for executing Christians, there isn't much to gain. As a matter of fact, Paul and Luke basically share the movie. Should have been called acts of apostles.
The movie heavily leans into Nero's persecution of Christians. Or at least as heavy as the budget allows. As the leftovers of Rome natives Christians decide what they should do with the "community." Community is a word you will hear a lot of in this movie, and very soon it starts to sound very grating. It feels very needlessly modernistic. Something no 60 AD person would utter even in their own language. Like genuine American neighborhood talk discussing something at a Sunday meeting. And, oh boy, if this is intentional, it sure is aimed at a certain market I'm not a part of.
Despite very sloppy ADR and amateur acting, which are par for the course for these movies, the production utilizes Malta very efficiently. Not to a point where they can sell you Rome with a couple of ancient fortresses, but then again, it is supposed to be post-fire.
Trilogia II: I skoni tou hronou (2008)
With a whimper
One thing you could always say about Angelopoulos movies is that Greek melancholic reverence could be felt with a naked eye in almost every single one of his pictures. Dust of Time is so detached from its subject that it is an absolute shame that this is his last picture. Especially considering that half of it, or maybe even more, is in English. Dafoe tries, but there is nothing for him to act as he solemnly glances around with awkward delivery, seemingly never changing his coat throughout the entire movie.
Splitting the timeline in many periods where Angelopoulos is seemingly preoccupied with doing summersaults to show totalitarianism in such an exaggerated farcical manner that you can't even take any of it seriously in good faith. Especially that bizarre allusion in the sci-fi x-ray search scene. One too many unpleasant airport frisks?
The present is preoccupied with an awkward love triangle where truly ancient actors play against 40-year-old Irene Jacob, who is so uncomfortable and unconvincingly aged up that it's hard to believe someone so dedicated as Theo would go for it. I guess he really liked the actress.
As a sequel to Weeping Meadow, it's just aimless. Almost nothing is brought up or expanded on. And the ending, despite its undeniable beauty, still comes off as desperate. It is never a good sign when several characters die seemingly of sadness for the sake of a very plain metaphor about past becoming negligible.
Trilogia: To livadi pou dakryzei (2004)
Concentrated 20th-century Greek misery
For all its authentic and gorgeous presentation, this rumination on how the family life of two people gets annihilated by the historic events doesn't really grip me with its choice of storytelling. Maybe it's because I can't say anything about Alexis beyond that he is playing accordion? But at least that is far more than I can say about Eleni in comparison. Perhaps it's the inconsistent pacing that melancholically drifts along, showing the pair adapting and surviving. And then, whoosh, WW2 ends almost as soon as it began. Whoosh, it's a civil war, and the husband and kids are dead. These impromptu jumps do not help with immersion of any kind.
It was always supposed to be a trilogy, but I fail to see for what purpose the supposed tragedy of Greek people who during WW2 were at war with themselves more than with the axis is just over and done with in 20 minutes in an almost 3-hour movie.
It is enjoyable to watch, and as I said, the composition is just stellar. The flooded village is an image that will stay with you for a long time, but other than that and the soundtrack, there is nothing to grab me because the stylistic aloofness among the characters is just something I can't stand.
The Long Day Closes (1992)
Perusing an old album and forcing yourself to not be dismissively rude
That is exactly how it felt watching this. I'm fairly receptive to the concept of the director sharing his childhood memories and experiences with this "not me" setup. But there is something galling about observing such pettiness and annoyances of a boy being plastered on film. Even with beautiful camerawork and soundtrack that, at some point, became like buckets of water splashed into your face. As every time the new song swells, it prompts you to be attentive.
Other than that, Buddy just sulks around in his loneliness that the director assuredly claims he enjoyed, but I don't think even the paper he wrote the script on believes that. It certainly didn't translate onto the screen as he continuously stays at home, longingly watching people leave or pass by his window. As he desperately, almost obsessively, tries to fill the void with movies. Something assuredly relatable to many people. And of course, the realization of homosexuality certainly added to his psychological isolation.
However, the memories are so specific and petty that they fail any kind of allure of said childhood. It has no fantastical imagery of Amarcord or warmth of the Mirror. It's detrimentally bitter and sulking, and you just want to yell at the kid to suck it up. We all had lice checks and obnoxious badly smelling shampoos for it, this isn't your personal Vietnam.
Il peccato (2019)
Divine Scoundrel
As a biopic about Michelangelo, it will most likely leave you with more questions about the man that you initially had. The narrative is very cryptic and revolves around him trying to balance his art around commissions and orders he has no hope of actually fulfilling.
Most of the movie is spent on "the monster," a marble block he considers more important than any of his responsibilities or desires. But when it comes down to actually watching the transportation, it is just an accident waiting to happen. You know that it's coming, and yet it is surprising nonetheless when it does.
The plot is stitched with bits and pieces of his life and relationships with multiple Popes he lived through. It only makes sense if you already know anything there is to know about his biography. The movie will not bother establishing differences between the pope factions or highlighting the significance of the events. You are on your own in this one.
His character also becomes more confusing as it goes along, his clear perfectionism and suspicion of everyone stem from vaguely alluded conspiracies around him that start and end abruptly, sometimes in the same scenes. His obsession with the monster and willingness to betray everyone and everything for it is captivating, however, his revelation at the end just seems way too nebulous for it to be understood by anyone except him, and maybe this is how it should be. The best aspect of Michelangelo that the movie so carefully and authentically portrays is that, despite looking like a local madman who has to beg on a street, he was never poor; his tight-fistedness is something of a legend in and of itself. Including a chest full of ducats under his bed that he just doesn't spend while living in what amounts to poverty.
Speaking of which, the mise-en-scene of the medieval cities is impeccable. It's one of those ultra-authentic dirty movies that doesn't resort to erasing color everywhere to show the dirt. No, everything can be vibrant while the roads are made of layers upon layers of mud. That's not a contradiction. Everyone is sweaty with their unwashed clothes full of holes and tears. All this only highlights the absolute beauty of his creations.
Mulholland Dr. (2001)
The Cultivation of the Lost Highway
Whenever people talk about this movie like some kind of indistinguishable puzzle that you have no reason to solve because David Lynch decided to be cryptic for the sake of it and you just need to "feel it," I always question if they just turned the movie off at the 2-hour mark. The movie gives up all pretence and starts painstakingly showcasing where all her delusions came from. I doubt you can figure out 100% of the details of the name swaps, projections, etc. But you if sincerely cannot figure out the basic foundation of the plot. You are either overthinking it or watching it with one eye on the ceiling or the phone.
The ludicrous plot about coping with self-delusion aside, the presentation is just marvellous. It perfectly conveys the initial soft innocence Betty exudes in her perfect fantasy, which later descends into a dreadful, sporadic nightmare as the reality of what she has done starts knocking louder and louder. Badalamenti's soundtrack is fantastic and captivating, and it highlights this transition very well.
It is hard to overstate how hard it grips you from the opening scene onward. The pure definition of unsettling. I do think it warrants more than one watch to at least pick apart some of the more obscure details, such as what amounts to a C plot line about the misadventures of the director. Who's pathetic life then gets a completely different meaning when you realize that it's just a projection from Diane. Just a wish fulfilment for a tormented soul who's ideal Hollywood experience turned into a nightmare.
Jing wu men (1972)
Fury Abundance
Probably Lee's most interesting character he portrayed. It is generally captivating to see the revenge dilemma. Where, no matter how hard you strike your enemy, the blowback is even more severe. Even if the villains are the same tired template of Japanese occupiers with no nuance and even that flamboyant weasel in glasses playing the same character he plays in Way of the Dragon, Lee's character, however, goes from just seeking justice to complete savage mode. As he abandons all pretences of calmness, moves to the cemetery, roasts cats, and plans his further infiltration with seemingly no end goal but the death of everyone in that dojo. It doesn't matter how much it hurts his friends that he probably thinks he protects; by the end, he is such a rabid dog that even his loved ones can barely find an excuse for him. It's very well acted by Lee, and the final scene as he attempts to go out, like Butch and Kid, is great and was seemingly an instance by him. Which is a very commendable narrative choice. The fights are stellar as expected, even if some 1 vs. Many stunts betray the bogus choreography of air punches.
Won't You Be My Neighbor? (2018)
Contemplator in the world of noise
Granted, I only knew about this man from parodies and that he had to strain his smile and accept it as a byproduct of his fame. And truth be told, for a long time, I thought he and Peewee Herman were the same man, or at least came from the same program. So for my very limited perspective, this was highly informative, even if the angle the filmmakers ended up trying to frame it by the end felt more preachy than this man probably ever meant to appear. I swear, if I hear one more time about the current great divide, that is so horrid that it would make even him put down a tiger, all the while making a documentary about people from the civil rights era, I'm going to flip. Speaking of the supposed criticisms of Rogers mentality and philosophy he applied to children, TV also felt like suplexing to strawman. Surely there is more to it than bringing it up and dismissing it in a span of a few minutes.
Same thing with the anti-gay rally that just got roped into it from stage left. Although the concerned individual, Tom Junod, makes a very interesting point, how would this second Christ on earth feel about using children for political and ideological hand standing, how would he feel about dragging kids on gay parades or making them do HRT before they hit puberty? What stance would he take? Would he just ignore it? Well, it's not a conversation that this documentary tries to answer. Most people in this movie who weren't directly involved in production and unblinkingly stare into the camera of the show seem to associate him with their childhood, so it's not the longing for a good man like Roger's they crave. It's nostalgia for simpler times.
Severance (2022)
Dance the Lumon wagie dance
Despite operating on the very obvious and very preachy set-ups that you might hear from some r/antiwork discourse, Severance still draws in and captivates you with its presentation and storytelling. Human microchipping for the sake of convenience is already a thing, so the premise of the show doesn't seem that outlandish. At least until the show starts peeling away more and more of what is going on on the innie floor. And I'll be honest, I hope they already have answers for it instead of coming up for them in case they get renewed. This is a trap that many shows fall into. They introduce a bunch of mysteries and then struggle to answer them in a satisfying or sometimes sensible manner. Other than that, it is a stellar show, slow at times, but I, for one, think getting immersed in innie lives is important.
Cinematically, the series is stellar with its minimalistic maze sets and use of color. All the actors are great if the casting feels a bit, how do I say it, tactically diverse, where I was able to conjecture identity of Mark's wife by just assuming her race isn't going to be white and simple fact that if they haven't showed her yet it means it's someone from the existing characters. That kind of casting. Otherwise, there is a stellar, eerie atmosphere of corporate thinking that by pedalling the half-hearted placebo principles of the community at work, they are going to motivate you to do better. I think it would have been extra funny if the series was produced by Amazon instead of Apple, but then again, what's the difference? It's its own kind of hell anyway.
Belorusskiy vokzal (1971)
Some scars can never be mended.
For a long time, the Soviet Union liked to pretend that after the victory in World War II, the long-longed-for socialist paradise had been achieved. Not everything is perfect, but surely people who have gone through the hell of the Eastern Front, comparatively unscathed, are the most valued people in the Union. Andrey Smirnov tries to contest this convention.
Moreover, he had a lot of trouble making this movie. He was already a controversial director on the verge of being blacklisted, so when he picked up a script that inferred not everything was peachy for veterans, a lot of eyebrows were raised.
The story is in itself about these four different men, who really wouldn't be seen with each other if not for the shared experience of war. After all, there is no stronger bond than a soldier's bond. Alongside them trying to reconnect after burying their commander, they are now observing how the lives around them are moving on and the values of the next generation being in complete conflict with theirs. You immediately detect that, over 25 years later, none of them moved on, almost as if the lives they lead are simply epilogues and their true selves are evermore stuck in the 41-45s. Of course, all of that conundrum is silent, because that generation is any if not idyllic representation of stoicism. The sacrifice that they made they would repeat in the heartbeat for the next generation, but the window into their unperturbed melancholy is all the more interesting for that.
Bullitt (1968)
Immaculate crime thriller.
Despite Bullitt's claim to fame being the iconic 10-minute chase scene that probably skyrocketed Ford Mustang sales quite a bit, it is foolish to dismiss the rest of the movie as an average crime drama. A lot of what this movie establishes can later be seen in such iconic movies as Heat. The police procedural and just the emerging trope of the last honest cop vs. Department is also quite predominant here, especially in how gritty it is. So is the feel of San Francisco. It is hard to overstate how much the movie uses the city to its benefit, and I'm not only talking about the chase. The soundtrack is amazing. It has pretty much every theme being perfect, and the movie knows full well when not to use music too.
What kind of feels half-cooked is the violence angle. Jacqueline Bisset brings it up, and it is clearly reflected in the finale, where, after impeccably building up the tension, everything ends within seconds with no real victory for Frank Bullitt as he awkwardly and impassively looks at the carnage he just participated in. Some people might even say there is an indictment of police violence all together, but that would be reaching. It is a great motif, and the movie might have had more to say, but it only starts pushing in the last twenty minutes or so, leaving it really insufficient in the end. Regardless, it is a very engaging, easy-to-follow detective thread, even if it basically scraps a chunk of what it was doing in the first half and just does away with the assassins, and the culprit is someone you haven't really seen before any of that. In any case, you've got style, action, and McQueen. What else do you need?
Meng long guo jiang (1972)
A taste of what could have been
I am not going to blow anyone's mind by declaring that the sole purpose of the entire feature is to create a lead-up to a western-like fight with Chuck Norris. Simple plot of the country bumpkin appearing to protect the weak from comical criminals. Lee was attempting to crystalize his vision of how these martial arts movies should present their fights, and I don't think anyone would claim that the final fight doesn't live up to his inspired vision.
Unfortunately, surrounding these 10 minutes is over an hour of a story that couldn't even pick a tone it wanted to go with. It starts with fish-out-of-water comedy chops (that was filmed with blurred lenses, making the 4K version of the movie look appallingly upscaled) and ends with the most sombre ending imaginable, with a twist that doesn't make sense because the movie seemingly forgot that Uncle doesn't own the restaurant, so unless he was going to rob her, his plan is moronic.
Some might say that this movie isn't about the story. With which I'd disagree. Lee inserts a great visual storytelling ability into the Norris fight and tells it without dialogue. Why couldn't it be spread out through the entire movie? Instead, he wastes time showing himself to be "relatable," which is something new, I guess. With him being a bit arrogant and coarse and, at the same time, just an innocent country fellow who has never seen a toilet, instead of a stern and determined Shaolin monk, these movies usually make the protagonist. Unfortunately, there is nothing to it other than what is on the surface. Character doesn't change. He leaves in the rushed ending, just as he arrived, with everyone dead or punctured with those darts he overused to the point of it being farcical.
Regardless, if not for his tragic life path, these could've been just small stepping stones for the pursuit of greatness. Woefully, this showcase of potential is all we are left with.
Halloween Ends (2022)
Someone here is a third wheel, and it's not Corey
They had a good thing going. It's not even that innovative for the Halloween franchise to do the passing of the 'evil' torch act. Rohan Campbell did his best, and I was genuinely excited to see the transformation when I realized where it was going. I'll be honest, I don't care about Michael Myers as a supposed icon. From 2018 on, we can basically ascertain that his motivation is now revenge. So he isn't, by all means, a motiveless representation of evil anymore, which made him interesting back then. Conversely, Haddonfield residents act so overweeningly that you might conclude that they deserve Michael if they are unironically blaming Laurie for "provoking" him. I'm not and never was excited for Michael to do the same killing routine he has been doing for 11 movies. What excited me was to see how they were going to use him to develop Corey.
For a little while, I kind of thought that he was in his head, and Corey was just internalizing and deflecting his urges, and I mean, that scene with Curtis really seemed like the guy was hallucinating at this point. Such a great theme they were spelling out for all of us. Evil never goes away. It just reshapes itself somewhere else. Oh, David, you have done it! But then someone, either an executive or Curtis, or maybe David second-guessing himself, said, "I mean, we've got to have Curtis and Michael fight." No, you really didn't need to. It already happened in 2018, so why do we need this again? Why couldn't you let Corey have it? Trying to please both sides of the spectrum, you disappointed everyone by half-assing it.
And for what? That tumble of geriatrics in the kitchen was atrocious. I swear, Busta Rhymes did it better than Laurie. I am not even going to compare it to 2018.
At least it's adeptly shot. The score is remarkable, as usual, and aside from those very convincing marching band bullies, the acting was on par, at least compared to something like Halloween Kills with that entire circus.
Les rivières pourpres II - Les anges de l'apocalypse (2004)
"Aaahh, what's in the booook? WHAT'S IN A FU--ING BOOK?"
If Luc Besson wanted to make a movie about parkouring monks, then he should've written that instead of doing this nonsensical thriller mystery that forgets everything it was setting up for the sake of Christopher Lee doing his best impression of a Bond villain. With an ingenious plan to start "New Europa," Lee was going to take King Lothair's scripture or chronicle and... I don't know what he would have done with it, nor do I suspect the movie did. What kind of knowledge did it contain? What information would it reveal? This wasn't even on the level of the Dead Sea Scrolls. This is a 9th-century Frankish book, as far as I understand. Keep in mind that there isn't much to digest here in terms of the implications of him getting it. What occult stuff did these Nazi-looking characters all gather for, all high on amphetamines, no doubt? Was it an actual death cult?
What does the Jesus and Apostles larp group have to do with it, and what was the point of ritualistic killings when they were just crazy witnesses that no one was going to believe? More importantly, why are the gigachad monks high on Hitler's stash who can take bullets to the chest unable to swim? Seriously, only Niemans and Reda even tried to survive in that flood.
The script is just condensed dementia. Like someone drunk trying to recite the Da Vinci Code plot.
The atmosphere is enjoyably nauseating and despondent. If the first one was just a little bit like Seven, then this one apes it to a full.
The movie also retreads the formula of the first one, where the detectives start with seemingly unrelated incidents that interject in the middle. None of it made sense in the end, but they sure included Nieman's fear of dogs here too. Again, with no purpose.
What is it with Niemans and the dogs?