The latest installment of The Hunger Games movie franchise is easily the darkest film of the year. I'm not talking about the film's content either [although it's pretty grim itself]. No, I mean the picture quality is literally black as midnight. Lots of scenes take place in secret underground bunkers or inside abandoned buildings and it makes for one of the muddiest pictures I've ever seen. Be prepared to squint and grimace slightly while watching this one. Of course the film's ridiculously forced love triangle and sheer lazy directing/camera work might have you doing that anyways.
What's my beef with The Hunger Games you ask? In case you missed my evisceration of the last film, I'll summarize by saying they're just way too bland for my liking. Mockingjay 1.0 falls victim to the same troubles that plagued Catching Fire, and suffers from some new mistakes as well. The script is still a big bag of "meh" [as most films adapted from 'Young Adult' fiction tend to be] but Mockingjay lacks the dazzling set pieces that propelled the first two films. Jennifer Law...er, Katniss, is no longer a wee young lass trapped inside the games. That means no more crazy fight sequences or wacky costumes from the Capitol. Now Katniss is transitioning into the role of freedom fighter and hanging out with the resistance in their less than glamorous subterranean headquarters. Because Mockingjay was divided into two films to maximize profits, that means all the "cool" stuff is being saved for the series finally, which leaves nothing but exposition and Jennifer Lawrence making "OMG" faces every five minutes in this one.
The lame script and, you know...lack of any real climax, could have been countered by some crafty camera work or truly standout performances. Mockingjay 1.0 has none of that. John Wick might be the most cliched movie ever made; yet the directors counter the banality of it's plot with awesome camera tricks and direction that keeps the audience engaged. Mockingjay is by comparison...a snoozefest. The fact that Julianne Moore and Philp Seymour Hoffman share multiple scenes together, which constitutes an Amber Waves & Scotty J. Boogie Nights reunion, is The Hunger Games: Mockingjay- Part 1's only saving grace.
Christopher Nolan is back folks. The acclaimed director’s new sci-fi,
space exploration epic, Interstellar,
is finally upon us. The hype behind this film has been ginormous to say the
least. Shot in IMAX 70mm…on actual film! Features minimal CGI! Uses man made
sets and practical effects! Academy award winning cast! Etc. etc. Does the film
actually deliver? Kind of.
Matthew Mcconaughey stars as “Cooper,” a former NASA test pilot marooned on a
slowly decaying American farmstead. In the not too distant future,
Earth has had enough of mankind’s shit and ravaged the environment with a
deadly wave of blight and dust storms, causing massive crop failures and respiratory
problems up the wazoo. Our time on Earth is running low, and humans toil about
their increasingly miserable lives trying to get by. Cooper begrudgingly raises
his two children on his dying farm, mourning his dead wife, and extinguished
dreams of exploring the stars. But thankfully, his genius daughter’s pet ghost
tasks them on a crazy errand that reunites Cooper with the remnants of what
used to be NASA, who’ve been literally hiding in his back yard the entire time,
hatching a plan to save the human race: move to a new galaxy. Yes, you read
that correctly.
wut?
Interstellar could have been a great
film, instead of just a good one. Unfortunately, it’s beyond convoluted plot and
insistence on ham-fisted melodrama takes the film down several pegs. The ‘wow,
I can’t believe what I’m seeing!’ sense of awe that Nolan’s visuals instill throughout
the film, gives way to a ‘wow…I can’t believe this is what I’m seeing,’ lament,
stemming from the mediocre script. The film is long and ambitious but
surprisingly, despite the ‘lol wut?’ problems with the plot, doesn’t feel like
an eternity while watching. Maybe that’s because the film crams what should
have been twelve hours of screen content into a mere three [we got off easy if
you think about that way].
Interstellar’s ensemble cast turns out
to be film’s saving grace. With so much trippy NASA jargon and space talk
thrown around and tons of eye rolling exposition being spoon fed to the
audience, it’s the actor’s stellar [eh eh?] performances that keeps the movie
from collapsing in on itself. Matthew Mcconaughey’s character Cooper might be written
as the dumbest astronaut ever [he needs diagrams to explain how wormholes work],
but his performance is unyielding throughout. He spouts that dialogue, no
matter how painful, like it was the word of God [or Nolan]. In fact, the scene
where he watches messages from his family on Earth is some truly powerful stuff and one of
the highlights of the entire film. Anne Hathaway is billed as Interstellar’s other big star, but
Jessica Chastain is the movie's real leading lady. Hathaway isn’t bad per se…even
though her character is written so, but Chastain’s performance is just miles
beyond hers.
the real MVP
Interstellar is three hours of bizarre
entertainment. If you can ignore the bloated plot and relish some solid acting
and cool visuals you’ll probably have fun. It was refreshing to watch a sci-fi
film with real people and not a massive CGI cartoon, just as it was cool to see
Nolan finally play with a new cinematographer for a change [hello Hoyte van
Hoytema, nice work dude]. There’s some really gripping, suspenseful scenes that
almost make up for the bang your head against the wall stupid ones. This movie
would have been a sweet ass summer time blockbuster, but since it came out in
fall and is surrounded but tons of, you know, good movies; it just doesn’t hold
up as well in comparison.
If you live in West Africa, Ebola is a real and terrifying threat. If you live in the United States, you're more likely to get struck by lightning, eaten by a shark or nail Jennifer Lawrence than catch the dreaded virus. Stop freaking out, stop propelling the heinous culture of fear and ignorance that is destroying our society, but most importantly...stop spamming my social media feeds with your asinine bullshit. The sanctity of our Facebook walls is meant for important things [like links to my blog].
Here is some helpful reading material for you Homer Simpson types, ready to barricade yourselves indoors due to your irrational fear of some Ebola toting boogeyman (or boogeymen).
Ebola is spread through bodily fluids. It's most contagious when victims show signs of infection aka; are projectile vomiting and shooting explosive diarrhea. Fetishes aside, if you refrain from drinking piss or maybe hold off on your regularly scheduled satanic blood sacrifice for the next month or so...you should be just fine.
Xenophobes:
Africa is scary. They have lions and pirates and AIDS [oh my] and they even tried to kill Tom Hanks! Now they've got the Ebola and they're gonna spread their apocalyptic cooties to the Heartland via airplanes. Quarantine the continent! Block all travel to and from and just close your eyes really hard until the danger passes. Sounds great...until you discover that would only make things WORSE.
Finally, you Conspiracy Nuts:
Governments do a lot of shady things [hai Iraq!], but unleashing biological nightmares like Ebola is probably not one of them. It goes back to the MAD doctrine. The idea of Mutually Assured Destruction is why no one actually uses nuclear weapons, because you fuck around with those things and everyone loses. Imperialistic wars w/ American canon fodder = good for business. Biological pandemic that kills humanity = bad.
Ebola is a serious and horrifying thing going on in Africa. This outbreak has more to do with the lack of healthcare infrastructure and education levels [washing the contaminated corpses cuz 'muh social/religious traditions'] in these Third World countries than the virus itself. More people will die from the flu in the USA then Ebola. Chill out. Educate yourselves and stop spamming my feeds!
I'll leave you with some words of wisdom from Fox News of all places. Fox "WAR ON EVERYTHING" News. Think about that one.
I went into this movie with a quasi-open mind. I say "quasi" because if anything, my reverence for author/YouTube personality John Green [the dude who wrote the book the movie is based on ] made me partially biased toward liking the film regardless. Well, the verdict is in...The Fault In Our Stars isn't a horrible film, it's just jumbled mess.
Shailene Woodley stars as Hazel, a bright but cynical teenager dealing with the fallout of childhood cancer. She's on some experimental drug treatment that has saved her life thus far, but left her with some serious health problems and understandably, causes her to mope around the house all bummed out. One day at recovery group [note: ALL cinematic recovery groups need a Marla Singer type, least they turn to drivel], she meets Augustus Waters (Ansel Elgort...what a name), the dashing, recovering cancer patient/manic pixie dream guy she's been secretly longing for. The manic pixie dream girl trope is turned on it's head in this case, because in The Fault In Our Stars, it's a guy who appears outta nowhere with the sole purpose of whimsically teaching/entertaining the female protagonist to change her life and force a uber dramatic character arc upon them. Great job guys. Hadn't seen that one before.
"Thought's on my soliloquy? Do share them?!" said no teenager: EVER.
Anyways, the film follows these young starry eyed teens as they deal with the two most tear inducing topics in existence, love and death. Seriously, I wouldn't be surprised if this film received secret financing from Kleenex. It's so overtly sentimental that it kind of rides a weird wave between cheesy and offensive. The Twilight fans might kill me, but the romance portion of the film is what really holds The Fault In Our Stars back. It's so cheesy and preposterous, normal humans don't speak like these kids, that it breaks my heart to say this may be more of a knock against John Green's source material than the film itself. That being said, most of the cast is pretty weak sauce, save for Woodley, who was the saving grace in last year's teen shitfest TheSpectacular Now, Willem Dafoe (who's good in everything) and my homie Nat Wolf from Palo Alto who steals every scene he's in. Everyone else is pure Lifetime Movie of the Week territory. Heartthrob Augustus included.
The Fault In Our Stars does put an interesting spin on these kid's health issues. The elephant in the room with most movies is addressed front and center here, making the cancer drama elements the strongest of the film. How these young characters deal with these weighty life and death issues, while battling hormones, is what salvages this movie from being a complete cheese fest. Even then, there's still cringe worthy elements thrown in that disrupt otherwise, touching moments [SPOILER: sick girl may or may not be able to jet set off to Europe and meet a reclusive international celebrity because of illness. Boo-fucking-hoo. You're alive and that shit should be the least of your worries. Real people who can't afford legit medical care might not give a care about yo bourgeois problems: end rant]. Like I said before, the movie isn't horrible, it's just a hit-and-miss, jumbled mess.
Neighbors is a funny film. But barely. It's also mind numbingly unoriginal. And not barely...but astoundingly so. To the point where I wondered if the execs who approved the script had ever seen a rated R comedy in their entire lives? Compared to Seth Rogen's last film This Is The End, Neighbors felt like a rushed, half baked cash grab. I honestly chuckled at a few of the film's gags, and occasionally might have LOL'd once or twice, but spent most of the movie's run time laughing at how uninspired and repetitive Neighbors truly is.
Seth Rogen plays the same character he's been doing since 2007's Knocked Up and Zac Efron is cast against type as a uber masculine frat bro. You can already see where this is going right? The fat vs buff, old vs young, professional vs college lifestyle clashes are funny for all of five minutes. Maybe if we hadn't already seen a lifetime's worth of the same recycled dick/fart/weed jokes from previous Seth Rogen flicks they might have had a larger impact. Judd Apatow might not have had a hand in this film, but his disciples sure as hell did (from the director to the producers and movie's star) and as a result, Neighbor's reeks of his signature, sanitized, yuppified, Starbucks ready brand of comedy. Seth Rogen grumbles and complains, white dudes reference rap songs and get jiggy onscreen, everyone act's like 13 year old kids for a bit, everything works out hunky dory in the end. Wash, rinse, repeat.
There are a few bright spots in Neighbors, where the clouds part and the comedy gods grant us a few moments of levity. The always gorgeous Rose Byrne brings a few laughs and is actually kind of mesmerizing when she's on her Project Mayhem-ish mission to wreak havoc inside the frat house party. Comedian turned actor Jerrod Carmichael literally steals every scene he's in and young Craig Robets' epic portrayal of a sniveling fraternity pledge known only as "ass juice" provides some of the best laughs of the entire film. The rest of the movie is just outlandish buffoonery and empty pop culture references that I'm almost positive fly over the heads of the film's target audience. I mean seriously, how many of today's teens and swaggy college age viewers raised on twitter will even get those De Niro and Pacino references the members of Delta throw around, hell the whole joke is that the Delta's don't get them either.
no. NO.
Maybe the joke is on me because Neighbor's cleaned up at the box office recently. If you want cheap, easy laughs then Neighbors is a sure thing. Just don't expect anything the least bit original.
Under The Skin did not live up to the title's namesake. Instead, this film just got on my nerves.
Under The Skin has been hyped as astounding, director Jonathan Glazer proclaimed a visionary and comparisons to 2001: A Space Odyssey have even been tossed around for good measure, because who doesn't love Kubrick references? Well, after seeing the film I couldn't help but think of Sen. Lloyd Bentsen's epic, "You're no Jack Kennedy" line. Mr. Glazer, you're no Stanley Kubrick bro.
Don't get me wrong, Under The Skin does have flashes of genius sprinkled throughout it's (grueling) nearly two hour run time, but those moments are few and far between. Scarlett Johansson stars as a seductive alien who cruises the streets of Scotland looking for gullible/horny men to abduct. Johansson shines in her role as a sexy space Terminator who carefully studies and mimics her human victims.
Scarlett's performance is easily the highlight of the film and serves as the direct antithesis of her turn in last year's Her, where she played a sentient computer operating system who longed to feel apart of, and eventually surpassed, humanity. In Her, Johansson was a voice without a body while in Under The Skin, she plays a nameless, nearly silent, extraterrestrial who uses it's female-ish facade to communicate through intense stares and physical touch. Glazer uses his star's striking beauty to propel the film, a woman with Johansson's features truly does feel alien compared to the rest of the cast (comprised of first time, non actors) and the film's setting. The bizarre abduction/seduction scenes feature some of the gnarliest visuals I've ever seen before, and Glazer's penchant for fly on the wall, voyeuristic realism can be truly haunting.
That being said, a handful of cool visuals and even mesmerizing moments like the baby on the beach scene aren't enough to save this film. Under The Skin is simply too minimalist for it's own good. I'm talking bare bones storytelling to the point where there's literally no story. I could do without dialogue, I could do without fancy Hollywood trickery, I don't mind being challenged by a film but Glazer's latest movie is just too much...and by that I mean not enough. Under The Skin crumbles under it's own flimsy, haphazard narrative. Mystique and intriguing quickly devolves into pompous and boring. The dozen or so moments of visual brilliance are sandwiched between uneventful and downright lazy camera work. Even Scarlett Johansson going full on, full frontal couldn't resuscitate this film's pulse. What a shame. Congratulations to Mr. Glazer, he's successfully crafted the definitive fish out of water, alien flick...for aliens.
The Grand Budapest Hotel is the latest Wes Anderson film that director Wes Anderson has decided to unleash upon us and it's probably the most Wes Anderson-y movies he's ever made.
Some of you might recall that I'm no Wes Anderson fanboy. The Grand Budapest only reaffirms this. The dude is clearly a talented director, with a near mastery of the technical aspects of filmmaking. Unfortunately, his brilliant visual prowess can't make up for his lackluster storytelling. More often than not, his characters are usually one dimensional caricatures stuck in deadpan or ham mode, spewing cringe worthy dialogue for the sake of being witty/ironic/whimsical. It's all so self aware, pretentious and just flat out annoying, that it makes Tarantino seem like a model of restraint. Hats off to the man for successfully creating his own distinctive cinematic universe, even if his movies feel like taped community theater productions at best, or gigantic dioramas at worst.
Despite my rant above, Anderson's new film ain't all bad. Ralph Fiennes' performance is easily The Grand Budapest Hotel's saving grace. His turn as the hotel's charismatic concierge was entertaining enough to prevent me from gouging my eyes out. The lavish sets and costumes are dazzling and Anderson's decision to switch aspect ratios during the film's different time periods was clever. There was also a few moments of genuine tenderness and emotion sprinkled throughout the film that pierced through the thick veil of camp Anderson's movies are smothered in, but they were few and far between.
The Grand Budapest Hotel is the latest in a long line of self congratulatory circle jerks brought to you by the whimsical wunderkind known as, Wes Anderson. Did I hate it? Almost, but not quite. Will Wes Anderson ever evolve as a filmmaker and leave the Candy Land formula/crutch behind? Probably not...but I hope so.
My grandma and I, unintentionally matching in the 90's.
My grandmother, Mary Rodriguez, passed away yesterday. She was the mother of seven children and grandmother of six...including myself. After a lifetime of living and working in Los Angeles, she retired to Las Vegas not long after the riots. I was about 8 or 9 when she moved away. Sure, I loved our visits during spring and summer time, but nothing beats the memories I have roaming the halls of her old house in Boyle Heights. I close my eyes and I'm playing on her old hardwood floors again. I see the giant tree where the pinatas from my birthday parties would taunt me. I'm sitting in her rocking chair watching TV, fighting the throes of that pesky afternoon nap. Something in my premie-south paw brain prohibited me from ever calling her "grandma." I literally couldn't say the words. Instead, she was "Ama," and growing up, she was better than Santa Claus.
She bought me clothes, toys, games, ice cream, anything I wanted but best of all, she showered me with her undivided attention. Apparently, I'm a bit of a motor mouth and have a tendency to babble when I talk. Ama would not only sit and listen to my juvenile rants, she hung on my every word. She learned about Ghostbusters and X-MEN, not because she cared about cartoons, but because I did. She never yelled or raised her voice at me because I never acted up with her. She said I was her "little pal," which implied notions of respect and companionship even a 4 year old could grasp. She was my mom's mom, my boss's boss, and she had MY back. I wasn't some kid she had to babysit or some genetic obligation, I was her friend. Ama made me feel safe and important. This means the world to someone when you can't tie your own shoes.
I visited Ama in the hospital two weeks ago and although I didn't know it at the time, said my last goodbye in person. Seeing her in that bed, so sick and frail was beyond heartbreaking. She used to help me buckle my seat belt and now I was pouring her water. It was upsetting to see such a strong and active person (a yoga enthusiast of 40+ years) succumb to the inevitable ravages of time. It was worse to stand in front of my old pal as a grown adult, utterly powerless and unable to reciprocate the feelings of comfort and security she had once provided me. We talked about her old house and naturally...X-MEN. Turns out one of her physicians looked like Hugh Jackman she said. This from the woman who bought me my first Wolverine action figure...I couldn't help but smile.
My grandmother Mary lived a long and fruitful life. She was raised during The Great Depression and saw more world changing events in her lifetime than I can fully comprehend. I'm not sad because an elderly person died in their sleep surrounded by loved ones. We should all be so fortunate. I'm sad because even though she moved away close to twenty years ago, it's only now that my old pal is truly gone. I love and miss my Ama tremendously, and will always cherish my memories of her. Maybe one day I'll leave a similar impact on others when I'm gone. I should be so lucky.
I still haven't come to grips with the fact that Philip Seymour Hoffman has died. Last Sunday, February 2, 2014, his body was discovered in his New York apartment. He died of an apparent heroin overdose. I say apparent because the coroner hasn't released an official cause of death yet, but police claim he was found with a fucking needle in his arm so, I'm just going go with heroin here. Hoffman was regarded as the greatest character actor of his generation and ranked amongst a handful of others as the most talented working actor today. To say his untimely death is a tragedy would be a understatement. This whole ordeal has left me and anyone with a more than passing interest in cinema and the creative arts, absolutely devastated.
Hoffman began his acting career on the stage. I've read a flood of tributes and interviews with the man that state his only real aspiration in life was to be a Broadway actor, capable of performing his craft then riding his bike home in complete anonymity. He had no desire for international stardom. Hoffman's talent was too great however and a string of small film roles in the early 90's would catapult him into the limelight for the next two decades. Hoffman, with his bulky frame and disheveled looks was not the typical Hollywood leading man and he knew it. Instead, Hoffman seeped into the heart and soul of cinema through his incredible laundry list of supporting characters. He rarely hogged the spotlight, but onscreen, Hoffman always stole the show. His performances were rife with emotion and felt less like an actor than a literal exposed nerve. The vulnerability in his performances was undoubtedly tied to deep psychological turmoil. Whatever dark inner forces led this talented man to seek refuge in drugs also served as the conduit for some of the greatest acting ever captured on film. It's a damming double edged sword that I wish cut less deep.
Philip Seymour Hoff was one of my favorite actors. I've basically grown up watching the man. He was the douche-y kid in Scent of a Woman, crazy Dusty in Twister, and had two iconic roles in films that changed my life: Scotty J in Boogie Nights and Brandt in The Big Lebowski. Those two movies changed the way I looked at film, forever. I'm not going to list all his great roles because that would take forever. The man's filmography is damn near untouchable. Even when Hoffman was slumming in shitty films for a paycheck, he always delivered onscreen. I was fortunate enough to watch Hoffman in glorious 70mm in his now iconic performance in The Master. I sat in the theater mesmerized, as Hoffman's face was projected on the Arc Light's massive Cinerama Dome. Finally, I thought, a screen capable of sustaining this man's gargantuan talents. I felt lucky and privileged to live in a time when actors like Phoenix, Bale, Fassbender and the most consistent of the bunch, Philip Seymour Hoffman, delivered such captivating and inspirational performances. I had grown up watching Hoffman as merely a side character, only within the past few years did I become aware of/fully appreciate the scope of his talent. I thought there would be more films to enjoy. It pains me at how wrong I was.
Hoffman's death is disgusting, infuriating and utterly heartbreaking. At a time when modern culture revolves around vapid reality stars and teen pop drivel, Philip Seymour Hoffman was a national treasure to anyone with a working brain. I'm saddened for his family's loss, I'm outraged by his selfishness and weep for such wasted potential and the future greatness we have all been collectively robbed of by his passing. From the grizzly details surrounding his death, we all know he wasn't a perfect human being, but there is no doubt that Philip Seymour Hoffman was the perfect actor. He will be greatly missed.
As a war film, Lone Survivor is a wildly successful action piece designed to simultaneously horrify and titillate the masses. It's when the film tries to be something greater that it transforms into a ham-fisted melodrama. When the movie clicks, it's a dazzling dose of high octane film making with moments of genuine emotion and sincerity. However, there are some laughably juvenile sequences sprinkled throughout that dampen it's otherwise kinetic pacing. Fear not, director Peter Berg doesn't achieve Michael Bay/Zack Snyder levelness of cheesiness in Lone Survivor, but he gets close.
Lone Survivor is the story of four Navy SEALs conducting a reconnaissance mission in the mountains of Afghanistan. Some pesky locals discover their position and place the team in a less than ideal situation. Release the civilians and run the risk of them alerting the enemy of their location, or kill them and be war criminals, ruining the Navy SEALs honor and long standing reputation. The SEALs release their captives and sure enough, are ambushed by hostile forces in a fierce mountain side battle.
Mark Wahlberg, Taylor Kitsch, Emile Hirsch and Ben Foster play the members of the SEAL team and deliver great performances all around. Even though Wahlberg is about ten years older than the rest of the cast, and it was a bit weird watching him take orders from Taylor Kitsch, he's the bonafide "star" of the film and is *SPOILER* (not really...read the title brah), the lone survivor. In my humble opinion, it's Ben Foster who steals the show here. He puts a Doc Holiday-ish spin on his character that transforms him from badass to ridiculously badass. The bond between these characters is not only believable, but during the insane gun fights it borders on heartbreaking. I attribute this to the tremendous talents of the cast (yes I just praised Taylor Kitsch's acting skills), using their onscreen chemistry to propel the film...because the script alone sure as hell couldn't.
MVPs
Peter Berg is lucky he cast strong leads and knows how to channel America's love of 80's action films, because the script he wrote and some of the mind numbingly cliched directorial choices he made on Lone Survivor almost ruined his film. First gripe, we don't know or care about the characters. We get brief, almost empty glances into their lives before we are suddenly thrust into Call of Duty: Mountain Ambush. The relationship between the SEALs would have felt totally forced if it wasn't for the A+ performances selling each scene. Next, the film's tacked on political commentary would have been funny if it wasn't laughably one dimensional. One could imagine Berg listening to the Team America theme song while doing push ups in the editing room screaming "FUCK YEAH!" with every head shot. I understand this is an adaptation of a book, and the author (a real SEAL...that sounds weird) didn't have time to wax philosophical with the dudes shooting bullets at his face, but watching faceless villains getting annihilated starts to get stale after a while. The epic battle between the "good" Afghan villagers who save Wahlberg and the "terrorists" is compelling, although it starts to feel like "magical negro" syndrome by the end.
Perhaps Lone Survivor's worst offense is shielding itself behind the "based on a true story" defense. The film opens with footage of legit Navy SEALS training and ends with images of the actual personnel who died during the real Operation Red Wings. It has been shown that the events depicted in this film have been greatly exaggerated, or grossly inaccurate...depending on your view. When you take away the forced sentiment that comes with these "true story aka real hero" movies, you're left with the a flawed film that might not have been detected otherwise. Make no mistake, Lone Survivor is a thoroughly entertaining action film, with great performances and some stunning cinematography. Maybe a more skilled director could have successfully taken the film beyond the confines of "action flick" like Berg so desperately aspires to, unfortunately, he falls short.
At this point in the game, it's become a universal fact that the Coen brothers are brilliant filmmakers. Anyone who's into film, from avid cinephiles to AMC gift card junkies, knows that a new Coen brothers release is tantamount to required viewing. At least this was my experience with their latest film, Inside Llewyn Davis. A film that left me feeling cold after first viewing the trailer, but I forced myself to watch simply because of the brilliant men behind the camera. Well, the verdict is in...
Inside Llewyn Davis is a massive bore. Yes, the film is rife with great performances, stunning cinematography and enough quirky dark humor to make Walter Sobchak proud but even these qualities couldn't save the film from being a snooze fest of epic proportions. The plot meanders along like the music it's protagonist plays, and while Llewyn Davis' songs are raw and heartfelt, the overall tone of the film is frigid and lifeless.
Best Supporting Actress: this cat
Oscar Issac stars as Llewyn Davis, an aspiring folk singer and all around asshole. Davis bums around the streets of New York during the winter of 1961, determined to make it big as a folk singer, find a new couch to sleep on and apparently, alienate every last friend and family member who tries helping him. Davis may be the ultimate schmuck, but Oscar Issac brings a human quality to this thoroughly unlikable character, delivering a truly standout performance that ultimately salvages the entire film. I mean, I'm no folk music enthusiast but even I managed to enjoy Issac's impassioned performances throughout the film. Too bad once Llewyn Davis stopped playing, Inside Llewyn Davis resumed it's uninspired march to the doldrums. Although I admire several technical aspects of this film, I cannot wholeheartedly endorse it which leaves me at an odd conundrum.
Inside Llewyn Davis is a film about a starving artist, a musician who struggles to achieve his creative vision without compromising his integrity for a quick buck. Throughout the film, Davis ignores just about every piece of advice/criticism thrown his way and views all interlopers with great contempt. He's the genius, their opinions are invalid and he will become famous on his own terms, or to quote the great Dirk Diggler-
I'm the star, it's my big dick and I say when we roll.
Unfortunately, Llewyn's raw talent isn't enough. His bitter arrogance and unyielding personality negates his undeniable musical prowess and damns him to couch surfing for all eternity. In many ways, Joel and Ethan Coen have crafted a film eerily similar to it's protagonist. An aloof slab of celluloid that is technically brilliant but genuinely non-entertaining or compelling in anyway. Although a competent picture, I'm not convinced Inside Llewyn Davis is a film that absolutely needed to be made.
There are great films and then, there are important films. Technically great films serve as a blueprint for Hollywood movie magic, while the important ones resonate in our collective consciousness for generations to come. Director Steve McQueen's latest film 12 Years A Slave, does both and is easily one of the best films of 2013.
First things first. 12 Years A Slave may be a great achievement in the pantheons of cinema...but that doesn't mean it's an enjoyable movie. Based on a true story, McQueen's film is devoid of the glossy eyed sentimentality that permeates most historical biopics. 12 Years A Slave doesn't paint the antebellum South in simple shades of black and white or good and evil. Like real life, the film is swathed in complicated strokes of grey. Dark and muddled, but grey nonetheless. It would be fair to say that 95% of all characters depicted in this film are utterly despicable, but their reasoning and motivation for their actions, as vile and misguided as they may be with our 21st century hindsight, while not justified, are at least partially explained. This helps portray the film's many antagonists as human beings (albeit, extremely repulsive and ignorant) and not the cartoonish villains we've all seen before. In short, there is not an once of glamor or pageantry inside this film. 12 Years A Slave explores a painful chapter of American history rife with racism and bigotry and holds a mirror to our present "culture wars" and the seemingly never ending war with ignorance we wage as a society. This film does not glaze things over, instead it wallows in slavery's festering wound.
So yeah, now that you're an emotional wreck, let's talk about the movie. Steve McQueen has crafted another melancholy masterpiece here folks. If you thought 2011's Shame wasn't bleak enough, then you'll be astonished at the levels of woe and sorrow 12 Years A Slave reaches throughout it's duration. Chiwetel Ejiofor plays Solomon Northup, a free black man living in the New York who is tricked and kidnapped to the South. He is forced to assume the identity of a runaway slave and sold off to a plantation where he begins a decade plus struggle to maintain his sanity/soul. Everyone in the film's all star cast is phenomenal. Most play horrible, horrible people, but do a damn fine job in the process. Really, if I wanted to highlight every fine performance I would end up copy and pasting the IMDB cast list. I'll just say that Paul Dano proves he's one of today's best character actors and Michael Fassbender is simply frightening in this film. The acting is amazing, the cinematography and costumes/set design make the film feel like a documentary at times, it feels so painfully authentic you might want to jump through the screen and kick start the Civil War yourself.
I really can't say enough good things about this film. 12 Years A Slave is a beautiful and twisted movie that should be seen by as many people as possible. It shows how far we've come as a society and reminds us how much more work there is to be done. When the black coat of justice swoops in during the film's gut wrenching conclusion, you can almost hear the generations of souls ruined by the wrong side of history rejoicing. Powerful stuff and one of the best films of this, or any year.
This movie is as exciting as a hot chocolate from Starbucks. A warm beverage in a spiffy cup just like everyone else has, but lacking the other special ingredients those real drinks...well I don't know, fuck I don't even like coffee. Anyways, back to the movie.
The Hunger Games: Catching Fire isn't a horrible film, it's just not very good either. There's action, drama, romance, you name it this movie tries to have it. That my friends, is the problem. This feels less like a film and more like a marketing decision (which we all know it was. C'mon you saw those Katniss popcorn bags?), a mass appeal hodgepodge of generic fluff meant to garner maximum profits at the box office. Mission accomplished dudes, Catching Fire has been kicking ass for the past two weeks. However, loads of profits does not a good film make.
It's no surprise that Jennifer Lawrence, *ahem* Academy Award winner for Best Actress *ahem* is the film's saving grace. She's beautiful and captivating and makes the best with such a sorry script. Also, with the weight of the franchise on her shoulders and the promise of residuals so vast they could fund the zaniest pet projects imaginable, Lawrence truly gives her all in Catching Fire. But then I remember that I've seen her kick ass in good movies also and that quickly becomes a moot point. The same is true for the rest of the cast. Elizabeth Banks, Jena Malone, Woody Harrelson, Donald Sutherland, fucking Philip Seymour Hoffman! Such a talented cast...squandered.
In short, The Hunger Games: Catching Fire, is the bleak dystopian future set action-drama we've all seen before, but dumbed down for post-Twilight America. Maybe if the film didn't take itself so seriously? The outlandish costumes look just as stupid as say, Demolition Man, but Stallone's mid 90's cult classic had no delusions of grandeur. I guess The Hunger Games is like Star Wars, but without the camp or moxy that made the original trilogy so endearing. Instead we get self serious drivel with bad CGI and set designs. Dear lord, it's like the Prequels all over again! The Hunger Games: Attack of the Clones.
It’s a cold fall morning. Your alarm rings to no avail. You should have been up five minutes ago. You need coffee. You gotta get ready for work. Shit, you need gas. Oh well. Fuck it. This bed is too warm. You’re just too, damn, comfy.
Uh oh. Getting a lil too warm. Search your feelings, you know it be true…you gotta piss.
NOOOOOOOOOOO!
Just a little longer. You have enough gas to make it. You’ll be fine.
Fuck--- light is creeping in from that busted window blind.
NO. You’re staying. You haven’t been this snug in ages. You can hold it. Just curl into a ball and forget about the yellow river of urine about to crest.
(Stomach gurgles) Uh oh. That ain’t hunger. Your bowels are saying “sup bro?” You gotta take a shit.
(Loud gurgles)
A mad shit.
NO. Who cares? You’re calling in sick. Intestines be damned you can’t risk it. You’re just so fucking comfy right now it’s ridiculous.
(Insane squishy gurgle)
Well, that about settles it. Time to get up and…
NO! We’re calling in remember? We can’t afford to get up right now, we might never be this comfy again!
Look, I want to stay in bed as much as you do but, we gotta hit that toilet man. ASAP.
STAY! Call in. Do some laundry later, clean up…
OK. That’s it. We are not SHITTING THE BED. We're late for work. I'm not trying to get fired for lounging in bed, and dude...we got some napalm diarrhea over here. We’re getting out of bed: NOW.
(sobbing) B-But, we’re so comfy right now. Oh God. Well, we fought the good fight. We just didn’t win. Our days of being comfy are over.
Toilet seat lifts: explosion.
That’s basically how the 113th United States Congress handled the government shutdown earlier this month. The battle to defeat The Affordable Care Act/ObamaCARE ended long ago. It may be a flawed piece of legislation and already looks like its being implemented poorly, but it passed both houses of Congress, was reaffirmed with the last Presidential election…and was upheld by The Supreme Court. It’s over dude. It’s not going anywhere.
Unfortunately, some members of Congress (mainly House Republicans and deranged Senators like Ted Cruz) couldn’t be bothered to swallow the bitter pill of democracy/reality and realize that you can’t always get what you want and tried tying their continued fight against ObamaCare with the Federal Budget and Debt Ceiling negotiations in one last gasp of desperation/insanity. So they threw an ideological tantrum and held the government hostage for close to three weeks. Now funding the government is one of the most basic functions Congress performs. Humans need water and food to survive, the government needs Congress to appropriate funds to do stuff. It’s that simple. Republican members of the House were content with staying in their comfy beds of conservative ideology and ignore their basic duties to fund the government and ya know, not shit all over the place.
So what happened? Well, in the end, just one day prior to certain economic catastrophe, Congress was able to limp out of bed and reopen the government. Congratulations Congress, you’ve proved to be slightly more responsible than infants in not soiling yourselves. Kudos. Don’t get cocky though, I know potty training is a big deal, but you’ve still got a long road ahead.
I haven't hated a movie in a long time. The Spectacular Now breaks this streak. As much as I disliked The Bling Ring, at least Sofia Coppola knows how to maneuver a fucking camera. The same can't be said for The Craptacular Now's director James Ponsoldt.
Where to begin? Well, like Public Enemy said, "Don't Believe The Hype." I guess that was my first problem. I figured a movie that both friends and critics raved about (with an astonishing 93% on Rotten Tomatoes! WTF?) must be good. Well fuck me for assuming. Had I gone into this screening blind, having only seen the trailer earlier this summer, I might have walked out merely disappointed...instead of fucking livid.
So what's up with this film? Why did The Spectacular Now rub me so raw? Well, the script is hokey (boring, contrived, lazy), the acting is bad (Characters? No. Caricatures? Yes.) and the direction is flat. Like, Kevin Smith "shooting two people in front of a wall talking," flat. I can handle lame dialogue/plot. I can tolerate ham-fisted performances, but if that's the case then at least give me something to look at dude. When a film drops the ball on all three levels, that's when I shut down and have Episode I flashbacks.
Smarmy Douche: The Movie.
The Spectacular Now follows an unlikeable punk named Sutter as he teeters on the brink of graduating high school and faces the grim realities of adulthood. Yeah, it's one of those movies. Only here, the protagonist is a smarmy douche who is so thoroughly unlikable I actually wished bodily harm upon his character. Sutter is a teenage alcoholic from a broken home who masks his inner pains with a court jester facade. He's supposed to be the fast talking, life of the party who woos the ladies and skates through life a la Ferris Bueller or Zack Morris but instead, he comes across as a sloppy John Cusack. He speaks in cliches and is more used car salesman than high school student. After breaking up with his girlfriend, Sutter meets Aimee, the only likable/believable human in the enter film. She's the shy, maidenly bookworm who shows Sutter that it's possible to breathe oxygen without acting like a cliched douche all the time. Props to actress Shailene Woodley for being this films only saving grace. Even with such a horrible script, she did her best. The rest of the cast? Lifetime movie of the week territory.
Don't get me wrong, it is possible to enjoy a film with unlikeable characters. Pain & Gain and Spring Breakers both centered on psychotic narcissists but were entertaining films because they didn't try to force the audience to relate to their asshole protagonists. Like I said before, if the plot and characters are fucked, you better have some sick visual style to win the viewer over with. Alas, The Spectacular Now fails here. Hardcore. I know this is a mega low budget indie film, but with today's technology, there is no excuse for such shoddy imagery on screen. The whole film just looks dark and dingy. Even Mud which takes place in a fucking swamp looked more pristine. I understand not every film can look as gorgeous as The Place Beyond The Pines, but if you want us to sympathize with a smarmy douche like Sutter, aka: the drunk driving captain of the world, how about some thought provoking/haunting shots like THIS huh?
So that's that. The Spectacular Now: the most infuriating movie of the summer. Remember what Chuck D said about hype? He was referring to this trailer.
Neil Blomkamp backed himself into a corner with this one. His breakthrough film, 2009's sci-fi parable District 9, was flat out amazing. I remember walking out of the theater in a daze, stunned by the freight train of awesomeness that I had just seen. What on Earth could Blomkamp do for a follow up? Well in his latest film, the South African auteur decided to ditch Earth and head to the stars on the space station Elysium (see what I did there? =p ). Sadly, I think District 9 set the bar a little too high and left me with some lofty expectations. Elysium is still a fun movie in it's own right but I couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed overall.
It should go without saying that Blomkamp is a socially conscious director. District 9 was an allegory for South African apartheid...with aliens. His new film Elysium continues this trend and tackles current socio-political issues such as health care, income inequality and immigration. Aside from his news hound tendencies, Blomkamp is also, you know, one of the most unique and visionary science fiction directors of the last few decades. The future tech geek stuff he packs into his films is enough to induce nerdgasms from any self respecting sci-fi fan. So if Blomkamp still delivers in the CNN/gadgetry departments, what's the big flaw with Elysium in general? It's the other part of the film that brings the rest down, the actual storytelling...you know, it's kind of important.
Matt Damon plays a down on his luck bro stuck in one of those shitty dystopian future's we are undoubtedly heading for. The kind where all the wealthy 1st class passengers have retreated to the safety ofElysium, a space station/lifeboat that boasts advanced medical care and robot servants, while the rest of us schmucks are stuck on Earth/ the Titanic left to rot. So Damon has to get to Elysium and use one of their fancy schmancy med pods to reverse the gnarly illness that will end his life...and quick. He dons some high tech robot exo-skeleton battle suit and starts kicking ass, literally fighting his way off Earth. Again, all this stuff is pretty cool. My main beef with the film is that is all feels so rushed.
Blomkamp is an ace when it comes to world building. In both District 9 and Elysium I was totally lured into the cinematic realm he created, unfortunately, his latest film cuts and runs without delivering any real pay off. We see glimpses of cool stuff, then it's gone. There are some summer movies that are long and bloated and could a good 20-30 mins shaved off the run time (Man of Steel, I'm talking to you) but Elysium is not one of them. If anything, this movie deserved to be longer! I pray that the blu-ray has an extended director's cut. Also, whoever edited this film please, try decaf. When there's awesome explosions going on and characters are throwing some grimacing looks at each other, maybe it would be wise not to cut away from them and let shit play out for more than 2 seconds at a time. Maybe.
So there it is. Yes, Elysium has great special effects, a riveting message behind
it and Matt Damon's performance is strong enough to carry the slack
from the less than stellar supporting cast, but the film's rushed pacing
and frantic editing style brings the potentially awesome film down to merely good. I still enjoyed this film and look forward to Blomkamp's next project...still crossing my fingers for dat blu-ray doe!
Fear not, the latest film in Fox's godforsaken X-Men franchise isn't all that bad. I mean, it's still pretty crappy overall, especially when compared to Marvel's phase one films, but it's not as horrible as the train wreck that was X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Of course when the bar is set so ridiculously low as that...
Before we begin, it must be said that continuity between Fox's X-Men films is completely fucked. You'd need a PhD in bullshit studies if you want to decipher the madness that Fox has unleashed upon us (or you could check out this handy dandy X-Men film study guide). So anyways, this new Wolverine film is a direct sequel to the also heinous, X-Men: The Last Stand, not like Origins or X-Men: First Class which were prequels, and see's Wolverine moping around in the wilderness all emo because he killed Jean Grey like five years earlier. Anyways, he's summoned to Japan to take care of some loose ends from his past and ends up kinda losing his powers (healing factor: not claws) and kinda falling in love with some smoking hot Japanese babe. He eventually comes to terms with what it means to be a hero, after battling his animal urges for like several centuries, and learns that at the end of the day the mutant powers don't make the man. That, and he finally puts that Jean Grey guilt trip behind him cause his new girl is like really cute. The end.
Mariko = best thing about the movie
Of course none of that crap matters. What does matter is this laundry list of complaints. Warning....nerd rant ahead. *SPOILERS*
Wolverine loses his healing factor (sort of), so every time he pops his claws out he should be screaming in agony and bleeding profusely. That, and he'd be exhausted from lugging around several hundred pounds of adamantium all day.
Why don't Wolverine's adamantium claws go through those ninja swords like a hot knife through butter?
If Wolverine's memory is scrambled from his Weapon X days, how the hell would he remember the old dude he saved from Nagasaki?
WTF is up with that Viper chick? Really. She feels like something out of Origins or Last Stand.
The giant Silver Samurai/ Iron Man rip off is almost hilarious. Also, what's the deal with Wolverine's bone claws regrowing after the Samurai chops his adamantium one's off? His skeleton is laced with adamantium, how the fuck is bone going to push through and form new claws?
Sorry. That stuff just really bugged the crap out of me. So yeah, the new Wolverine flick is enjoyable if you turn off your brain and try to ignore all the horrible continuity flaws. Jackman is good, blah blah. At this point, these X-Men flicks are beyond saving. The after credits Days of Future Past tie in is supposed to get everyone pumped and redeem the franchise...but I've learned not to get my hopes up anymore. Please Disney, make nice with Fox and buy back the X-Men rights so Marvel can do these films right. Pleeeeeeease.
Last week a friend of mine passed away after a two year battle with cancer. His name was Gary and he would have turned 21 this year. I met Gary through work, he was a fresh faced new hire that brightened everyone's day. He was literally, a kid, out of high school starting college, entering the workforce and looking forward to a long and fruitful adult live. Unfortunately, out of the damn blue, he was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer in 2011 at the age of 19. I was one of Gary's supervisors, responsible for his training and development at work. I can honestly say that he was one of the most positive and optimistic people I have ever met. He didn't smoke or do drugs, he was athletic, an avid church goer, had a long term girlfriend and unlike most people (jaded/cynical assholes like myself) he actually liked being at work. The bravery he displayed these past two years, in the face of countless treatments and surgeries, is truly inspiring. Why a great human being like Gary had to leave this world so prematurely is something I'll never understand. His funeral is tomorrow.
Here is song I've been listening to a lot lately that feels strangely appropriate. It's simultaneously beautiful and tragic and I wish it would go forever but alas...
Man of Steel is a noble attempt at selling Superman to modern film audiences but it falls short on almost every level. I tried viewing this film as both a former comic book geek and as a cinephile, hoping that one aspect might balance out the other but alas, I was disappointed on both fronts.
As a film, Man of Steel is a jumbled mess. First, the script is bad. I mean plot, dialogue, character development, all of it. This film relies so heavily on visual spectacle that it temporarily numbs the viewer to the asinine dialogue repeated throughout. There were moments where I wanted to cringe at the drivel these characters were saying ("You're a monster Zod and I'm going to stop you.") but was immediately bombarded with explosions and almost forgot...almost. Just about every character feels like a caricature, leaving us indifferent to their onscreen exploits. Lois Lane is about to fall to her death, oh wells. Superman is yelling about something, he's mad, I guess. What should have been a simple origin story gets convoluted with tons of unnecessary "filler." The sci-fi battle sequence on Krypton looked kinda cool (Star Wars meets Prometheus) but was totally out of place. Why was superman smashing the giant spider machine when he should have...nvm. He's gotta smash something I guess.
Outta the way...I'm fighting here!
Henry Cavill looks likes the perfect Superman specimen but alas,
he and the rest of the cast can't overcome such a sorry script. I
usually love Amy Adams, but she and Michael Shannon's talents were largely wasted.
There are plot holes galore and some of the most blatant product
placement I've ever seen in a film. I think Nikon and IHOP should have
been credited as actual characters they got so much screen time.
The film's pacing is also totally out of whack. It feels like director Zack Snyder tried making two different movies and spliced them both together...while blindfolded. A series of somber flashbacks show Superman's coming of age in Kansas with the Kent family after he arrives on Earth. These scenes are probably the best of the entire film and are shot in a pseudo Malick style. Imagine Clark Kent testing his super powers on the set of The Tree of Life. Something like that. Then we get to the other half, the Michael Bay disaster porn portion of the film that totally lost me. The action is so fast paced, there's so much CGI tomfoolery onscreen that it's hard to focus on anything in particular. Buildings, jets, trains, Kryptonians, all fly through the air at breakneck speeds, it all becomes a giant exhausting blur. Also, the high octane fight scenes would have been more impressive, if they weren't straight Dragon Ball Z ripoffs. If you've seen the final fight between Neo and Agent Smith in Matrix Revolutions, you've basically seen the battles in Man of Steel.
Watching this movie as a former comic book geek, Man of Steel was even worse. -WARNING- NERD RANT AND SPOILERS AHEAD:
Superman is one of the most beloved fictional characters of all time.
He's been fighting crime and saving the world in the pages of DC comics
for 75 years now. In terms of popularity it goes something like, Mickey
Mouse, Jesus, and Superman...and not necessarily in that order.
Superman has survived through the ages because his character, the ever
vigilant boyscout supreme, has remained a consistent symbol of
goodwill, truth and justice in a continually dangerous and scary world.
From the Great Depression, Hitler, the Cold War and 9/11, Superman has
been there. He never falters or waivers in the face of evil, he always
does whats right. Hell, he doesn't even age and has outlived his
original readers by this point. He's Superman. Calling him an icon,
would be an understatement.
Unfortunately, the traits
that have made Superman such an endearing figure for nearly a century,
also make him extremely boring and one dimensional. Yes, I said it,
Superman is boring. He has to be though. It's in his character's DNA.
Marvel Comic's Captain America faces a similar problem as Supes, the
whole goody two shoes/hall monitor thing. Both characters are displaced
loners, (Supes is an alien refugee, Cap is from a bygone era) but only
one of them can fly and is indestructible...and that is Superman's main
problem, he's too powerful and too one dimensional for audiences to
relate to. But why would you? He's that unattainable image of perfection we all secretly yearn to achieve. He doesn't second guess himself or drop the ball, ever. Why would we want to bring him down to our level?
That's Man of Steel's biggest mistake in my book. They try to humanize an alien demigod. Nolan's Batman movies had a certain grit and harsh sense of realism because 1) Batman has serious psychological problems and 2) He's a just a regular dude under that mask. Superman is, well, Superman! He doesn't mope around, he doesn't recklessly endanger innocent lives (demolishing Smallville and half of Metropolis in DBZ fistfights) and he doesn't kill! In trying to make Superman hip for modern audiences Man of Steel totally destroys the essence of who Superman is and why he's endured for so long. END RANT.
I tried to have an open mind, I really did. Alas, The Great Gatsby failed to win me over. It wasn't as horrible as I assumed it would be, but was still pretty awful.
Where to start? Well, first I'll just come out and say it. I didn't read the book in school *ducks* and have zero emotional/nostalgia points to draw from. I was somewhat familiar with the plot and central themes of the book because, it's such a icon of American literature I couldn't help but absorb them through osmosis over the years. In other words, I went into The Great Gatsby as neutral party. Well, not entirely neutral. I mean, I have eyes. I saw the trailer, I read the news about the Jay-Z soundtrack. I hoped for the best but expected the worst.
The film is a long and jumbled mess. It's literally all over the place. I described Harmony Korine's Spring Breakers as "...a declaration of war on the senses." Well, with The Great Gatsby, director Baz Luhrmann says fuck the war and drops an atom bomb of CGI/glitter/vibrant colors and brash music on screen. I really don't even know where to begin. Gatsby's character is a mysterious playboy who throws lavish parties so I kind of understand the whole "Baz is just keeping it real and making his movie incredibly over the top" argument. But no. God no. He didn't have to go full on jazz hands either.
"Did you read the book? Where we supposed to read the book?"
Leonardo DiCaprio plays Gatsby, a wealthy dude who throws the wildest parties imaginable during the Roaring Twenties. He hangs out with a dorky sidekick (Tobey Maguire...art imitating life Leo?) and tries to woo a lost love back into his life through a series of sneaky/romantic maneuvers. That's about it. There are hints of greater themes buried somewhere in this film, but good luck getting past the layers of cinematic diabetes Luhrman has piled onscreen to enjoy them.
Lurhman pulls a Tarantino/Wes Anderson move and is so in love with his "unique" directing style, the overall substance of the The Great Gatsby is lost in the process. Romantic scenes result in lifeless posturing because the actors are hamming it up. Just about every character in the film is either unlikeable or worse, uninteresting. The music, holy shit the music. I like Jay-Z, he's a cool guy. His soundtrack however, yanked me out of the film more times than Toby Maguire's Spider-Man-esqe narration. So modern audiences are too stupid to appreciate music from the Jazz Age and it's cultural significance and it's very real relevance to The Great Gatsby's story...but they aren't too stupid to throw tomatoes at the screen for the cringe worthy amounts crappy CGI and "3D" shots in the film? This is why I'm a misanthrope who hates my generation and weeps for the future of humanity.
As much as I enjoyed staring at Carey Mulligan's gorgeous face on the big screen, and Joel Edgerton's standout performance as her douchebag husband, I really cannot recommend this movie to anyone. It wasn't horrible but it was frustrating that such a great story (or so I'm told) was damn near ruined like this. Such grand themes about love and loss, obsession and regrets, social mobility and injustice should have been the highlights of this film but instead we get tacky light saber overload...that's what pisses me off so much.
