tonosov-51238 Reviews

Crimson Rivers 2: Angels of the Apocalypse (2004)

"Aaahh, what's in the booook? WHAT'S IN A FU--ING BOOK?"

[4/10 · 7 May 2024]

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?

The Crimson Rivers (2000)

Atmospheric thriller with a heedless story

[6/10 · 7 May 2024]

Some might say that the buildup of a mystery is almost always, if not more, important than how it is deciphered. In The Crimson Rivers, it is almost taken as a motto. This movie had a lot going for it. Superb cinematography that somehow succeeds in making a simple library seem sinister without trying hard. Incredible score that only further highlights the Gothic atmosphere of a secluded college where something bad is going on. Most importantly, there are two great actors who, despite the script not giving them much to work with in terms of characters, still competently play off each other's archetypes. However, try as it might, the "it's a journey that matters, not the destination" shtick doesn't apply here as much as Kassovitz and Grangé seem to bank on. Full of contrivances and exorbitant amounts of particulars, the movie placidly tries to justify the killings because of eugenics and kidnappings. Hence, this Hannibal junk is genuinely justified in the eyes of the characters. It's a good thing that the story tries its hardest to confuse you in terms of who faked whose death. Otherwise, the pair of Nadias would have looked way too psychotic to even warrant anyone's pity.

By the end of the movie, the script had just lumbered to a finish line. With Reno and Cassel racing to stop sisters from destroying the school with an avalanche (I'm assuming, otherwise, why point out the grenades?). While doing so, they cause an avalanche themselves, and nothing happens to the school. Strong writing. Maybe they needed an action scene. Actually, a lot of the action scenes in this movie aren't suitable to the pace of the story and seemingly exist for the sake of an action scene.

And then the movie ends with a dog scene. What is it with Niemans and dogs? Was it more relevant in the novel? Why did it stay in the movie? It's like an awkward draft of trying to give a character trait.

Volver (I) (2006)

Aesthetically pleasing but erroneous, Almodóvar's neorealism

[6/10 · 7 May 2024]

Unassertive drama that mingles plots of Latin telenovelas and then simply tries to prompt you to believe that there is magical realism in play. Unfortunately, it didn't work for me, as there was no doubt in my mind that when Agustina mentioned her mother disappearing on the same day as Irene, that was the eventual truth that mother was going to reveal. It is prosaic and mundane in its execution. How else would these strong women deal with these domestic bedlams but with the utmost orderliness?

You see, a problem with having a cast of formidable women that Pedro Almodóvar loves so much is that it's incredibly tacky and superficial to observe Raimunda, who jungles all these conundrums and yet was for some reason married to a person like Paco long enough for her daughter to actually consider him a biological father to begin with. As he speedruns an abusive, horny boyfriend caper in under four minutes in the first act. It is as artificial histrionics as them coming to mourn him at, as Tony Soprano would put it, "On a hill. Overlooking a little river. With pine cones all around." This is, of course, far from the only body the movie hastily buries. You can clearly see the remains of the previous scripts awkwardly poking out. For instance, Raimunda takes over a restaurant under the excuse of hiding the body, which proceeds to flourish under a confident woman's touch and is constantly filled with people, and she is unable to move the body out of there because of how successful it is. An interesting set-up, but then Pedro gets bored, and this entire plotline wraps up in a jiffy with nothing coming out of it.

When I imagine neorealism, this movie endeavors to be. I imagine some kind of dispute and suffering financial or any other ilk relatable people go through, but there isn't one. All the women are so positive and understanding that it sucks out any engagement from their perceived quandaries. Sure, hooray for women and Pedro's loving understanding of them as his sole role models is interesting to observe, but what can anyone get from these completely galling circumstances right out of Latin dramas that are just being talked out to be solved?

I know that I get nothing. It is a beautiful and melodic picture filled with the spirit of rural Spain, but I felt nothing, and the only lasting impression it will leave is Cruz's fake buttocks.

One Deadly Summer (1983)

When Shakespearean revenge rebounds

[7/10 · 7 May 2024]

Intriguing mystery drama that masquerades as a romantic comedy for the first 20 minutes. Unsuccessfully, I might add, because the aura of insincerity from Elle is radiating harder than Chernobyl. Unfortunately for everyone involved, it is attached to the killer body of Isabelle Adjani. So no one in that small town ever stood a chance. Flaunting her beauty like a scythe over a poor ear of wheat, when gradually her intended manipulation starts to reveal itself, it still keeps you on your toes because it never lays all the cards on the table, leaving a lot of gaps in both what happened and even what her intended revenge plan is. She is ready to go the extra mile for that. There is no goal more sacred for her than to see it through, and what comes after is irrelevant.

So it is much more bitter and rather farcical when the twist finally falls upon her and you learn that she was so wrong that it retroactively made her the biggest dolt in the story who ruined her life for nothing. At least, that's what the movie implies is the respectable reason for her going insane. Granted, she was a bit psychopathic to begin with, accompanied by those trademarked emotional outbursts Adjani is so proficient at. Walking that tight line between convincing despair and complete overacting, but it hardly feels warranted as the narrative acts like she already killed three wrong people and spent her entire life on this plot. She is supposedly nineteen. It is very Shakespearean, in other words, especially how, through a misunderstanding, it still veers into tragedy as her plan inadvertently comes into effect. The claim to fame of this movie isn't, in truth, the narrative, but Isabelle Adjani, who could have carried the movie by her lonesome. Thankfully, she doesn't need to, as all the other actors do not disappoint, making multiple POVs of the narrative not as arduous as they could have been in concept.

The Black Dahlia (2006)

L.A. Confidential's very special cousin

[5/10 · 7 May 2024]

A bona fide career killer that's what this movie is. There is maybe an alternate timeline where Fincher got the budget he wanted and made a requested 5-hour series out of that novel, but that's all what-ifs. What we have here is the most misguided and tonally salacious neo-noir you could possibly think of when you imagine this genre.

The bizarre pace of the story rushes you through delineated events as you wait for the narrative to get to the murder, only to realize that the murder itself won't be of value that much to the story they are trying to tell and that it's purely fiction throughout. Some fiction. De Palma gathers all the noir cliches and merely throws them at the fan, covering the walls with marrow. No wonder people think it's a borderline parody of the genre. With imagery and narration like this, you have no choice but to groan or laugh at these self-asserting, pulpy descriptions Josh Hartnett delivers.

Except it's all very serious. Supposedly. Because every time we move to the Hilary Swank family mansion, it's like the movie becomes some Naked Gun shtick. All thanks to Fiona Shaw. There is a hammy performance, and then there is whatever the hell Shaw was doing. It's like she wasn't even sure she wasn't in a comedy. Not that I'm admonishing her. Bar none, she is the most entertaining part of the movie. Certainly more captivating than the fictional mystery they were establishing and unveiling in the same ostentatious tone of extreme seriousness.

I do get that Black Dahlia is Los Angeles folklore by this point in the same manner as Ripper is to London, but the revelations in this mystery are not only in poor taste and based on misinformation. They are also not gratifying enough to justify such a defamatory implementation. As far as I understand, the novel is about Bleichert and Blanchard being needlessly obsessed over the murder, yet this was so lost along the way in the script that whenever they lean into this obsession with Aaron Eckhart in a couple of scenes, it feels ridiculous and haphazard. The movie, for all its laughable content, looks compelling, at least in the art direction department. However, the sepia tint permeating the entire runtime didn't do it for me.

Triangle of Sadness (2022)

Distorted lambasting

[6/10 · 1 May 2024]

2022 was a year of fanciful tearing down of caricatures of the rich elite produced by these same rich elite. I very much liked Ruben Östlund's The Square, given how narrowly focused the satire was on the art world with which the director was very intimately acquainted. This time, he decided to cast a wider net and just poke everything with the grace of a South Park episode. Ruben experiences some awkward conversation about a check at the restaurant, and with this idea in hand, he eventually veers into a smug hypothetical that gated socialists love so much. How the obtuse upper crust capitalists wouldn't be able to light a fire or literally do anything if they were stranded on a deserted island because they just don't have the street smarts of a toilet-cleaning Filipino lady. Lady that simply intrinsically knows how to do all of the survivalist things. Don't think about it too long, it's certainly not racial that a Filipino naturally knows how to fish, okay? We really didn't know how good we had it with Luis Buñuel in terms of satires about the rich.

I obviously understand that this entire section is intended to show a more nuanced view of societal hierarchies. They are not teared down, but simply remade to fit who ends up on top. The triangle stays the same. The director faintly simulates that he doesn't think rich people are evil and impervious by nature. It's their wealth and status that make them this way. Contradictorily, he didn't skimp on portraying them as living punchlines on the yacht with nothing even remotely human in them, even making Vera do a Madonna bathtub equality speech in a jacuzzi. Later on, her husband removes all jewelry from her during a scene of mourning on the beach because, unfortunately for him, he isn't allowed to act human in a satirical black comedy about how dumb rich people are.

Oh, I forgot about our main protagonists. It's almost like the movie also forgets about them in the middle of Act 2. The reversal of the "triangle", with Yaya saying in the beginning that she is bound to become a trophy wife as her only means of supporting her lifestyle further on, only for Carl to end up in that position by the end, is indeed an inventive subversion. Even if I somewhat believe that it frankly wouldn't fly, with Yaya trading sex for fish with a man in our delicate years.

Just the same, their theme schizophrenically lashes around without making a point. It's a quirky observation. Power indeed corrupts, and beauty is a currency. Both of these are largely irrelevant when you put them up against the actual runtime. I do refer to these two as themes because they are not even characters. Triangle of Sadness is unapologetically one of those movies that treats its characters as allegories, preventing them from acting rationally or having any degree of pragmatism. It is the art of satire. The same satire as in The Menu, with an amusing junction that both movies treat fast food as the humble and virtuous food of the peasants. Which by itself might as well be a trope.

Regardless of how apathetic I was to the self-assured and worn-down social commentary, I must fess up that I found the movie to be largely a great and entertaining piece of filmmaking in its own right. Great pacing and engaging scenes with great acting and direction. It is worth watching for the "vomitorium" scene alone, you can see it coming a mile away, and it is as glorious as it is disgusting.

The Brothers and Sisters of the Toda Family (1941)

Not his finest

[6/10 · 1 May 2024]

As usual, you can expect a lot of visual purity from the Ozu movie. This has immaculate framing and great compositions. Except that you can experience the same impeccable cinematic style in any of his other 50 movies, and a better story to boot. I tried to immerse myself in this lineage tale of misunderstandings and family breakdown, but I couldn't help but find it stilted.

I admittedly understand that it is a completely foreign culture to begin with, and a culture of Imperial Japan to boot. Be that as it may, the way the script portrays the supposed disrespect the eldest sister exhibits to the mother is the most spurious domestic argument imaginable, where it is simply impossible for me to gauge "the big deal," so to speak. Have Japanese families lived in perfect harmony before the turn of the century and the Meiji era? Have they never kept information from each other or had misunderstandings about how they should all act when the guests come over? Was there seriously no better way of demonstrating that they didn't want the pair there beyond this plastic irritability with a mother and younger sister melodramatically kneeling in front of the portrait of the late patriarch? Oh, those were better times, indeed. Or were they? Beyond the group photo scene, there wasn't even a good impression of how he ruled the family except for the debts that he left them.

Ultimately, of course, the emancipator son, who, without even knowing what happened, immediately assumes they were forced out and condemned to the villa. The cabin that they say is dilapidated and that they won't even sell seeing it is that bad. Which is an even more dishonest statement than the arguments. Looks cozy to me. Just the same, he rescues them and takes them to Tianjin. Good for them. They'll get in on the ground floor in China. 1941 is just about time.

I, Robot (2004)

One of the most insipid scripts produced

[5/10 · 25 April 2024]

Trying to mix a murder mystery, conspiracy, mangled remains of Asimov's themes, and the existential question of what makes someone truly intelligent in a Will Smith action movie is a horrible idea from the off-set. Alex Proyas knew that, and if he is to be believed, it was a "passenger in a driver's seat" experience, as the studio towed this Will Smith vehicle to its save-the-world destination. It's a godawful mystery, with you probably figuring out what is happening long before the movie even shows its red herring. The only actual interesting bit is the prosthetic arm reveal, but it never goes beyond that.

The oh-so-intricate plan of Dr. Lanning falls apart the moment you even venture to think about it objectively. He could program a robot to not obey the laws without Viki's knowledge but couldn't conceive a plan to get the nanites from the same building to the AI core or any other way to warn or sabotage this "revolution" without killing himself and relying on a bunch of "ifs"? The wording I would use to describe this entire rubbish plot is impotently contrived for the sake of seeming enigmatic.

For the year 2004, the robot designs are genuinely elegant and seemingly haven't aged just due to how plain they are. The backdrops, however, are eyesores laid bare. Will Smith is playing himself once more with only one well-acted scene through the entire movie, with the rest being a one-liner delivery of tacky dialogue about how he is either down on his luck or hates robots. There is such a tonal clash that he is seemingly outcast in his job and personal life, and, you know, his Will Smith personality, almost as if no one actually wrote the character with him in mind to begin with.

John Wick: Chapter 4 (2023)

Stuntmen continue to do what they do best

[7/10 · 25 April 2024]

By the time Chapter 4 came out, I'd come to the realization that I have no memory of what happened in the last three movies plot-wise, aside from the ending of Parabellum. I don't consider myself feather-brained, so it must be the absolute emptiness that was in those stories that wiped everything out. After watching Chapter 4, I reckon I will forget it just the same.

The story is the same grandiose, mythical assassin society jenga that seemingly exists in a realm of its own, away from civilization. There is no tangible reaction from the rest of the world to anything that happens during their disputes. Every single move or action simply adheres to the rule of cool. Visually, the movie is indeed very cool, with vigorous music, great pacing in the fights, and a towering number of killers. This time, (I theorize, maybe the other movies did this already) it goes for a The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly motion of introducing three opposing players, Wick, Caine, and the Tracker. The goals of the last two and their actions rarely match, but what does it matter? The rule of cool is in action. Under this rule, flashbangs do not make you deaf and disoriented just because you are unable to see to begin with. This is videogame logic. Cool one-liner, though.

The fights are immensely ferocious, even if, in some cases, the obsession with long takes makes the fodder goons act silly as they farcically delay getting up just to match their queue for when Keanu turns around. Not that I'm advocating for some Bourne hogwash again, with a shaky camera and cuts extravaganza. God knows we had a fill of those, but those techniques did exist exactly to thwart that kind of awkwardness.

The other ultimately frustrating thing are Kevlar suits, which I had grown to despise by the end of the movie. If the problem of goons not hitting your lead guy is solved by making them hit him but ordaining it to mean nothing, then you should probably reconsider how you approach the action scenes with a high number of guns all together. Not that the movie goes overboard with Kevlar deflection. There are many scenes of gun porn where it is irrelevant, but the fact remains that trying to mix realistic reloading with this kind of foolery does not work.

I don't know what happened behind the scenes for them to decide the seldom amount of spoken dialogue by Keanu to be delivered with all the implications of him having brain damage as he inadvertently makes awkward pauses between every word. It is an unintentional comedy regardless. Keanu's sole acting in these movies is his physical body language during the fights, as far as I'm concerned anyway.

It is enjoyable, mindless, stunt-heavy lunacy, as it was intended.

Hopefully, they will let him lay down and pursue new projects themselves, preferably with any kind of script that isn't just an assortment of locations to fight in.

We Need to Talk About Cosby (2022)

Morbid legacy

[7/10 · 25 April 2024]

I have never seen anything Bill Cosby was in. I also can't help but to additionally mention that I've always had a genuine aversion to stand-up comedy to begin with. Hence, I have no nostalgia for this man and essentially no real idea of what he did beyond the vague notion of him being in a couple of sitcoms until Judgment Day rained down on him. That was so loud and impossible to ignore.

I very much appreciate the run-down of his career and the illustration of how his fame mixed with the ego of a forerunner allowed him to do this for decades. However, I disagree with their perceived comparisons to other unholy Hollywood scum arrested around the same time his scandal was being pried into. They just gloss over the drugging and pretend it's on the same tier as sex for favors. No, it's not. If he wanted, he probably would have convinced many of these women to sleep with him without a pill and would have been an authentic point of comparison. Yet you don't even hear anything this basic. So, obviously, making them unconscious was the desired objective for him. Nothing about that is examined beyond bringing up the vague statement of him wanting to have control. Yes, rape is about control. Thank you very much, esteemed psychologist with a diploma. What revelatory input!

There are a lot of participants in the interviews. Nonetheless, when you think about it, some of the interviewees' involvement can be summed up as: "I had a bad run-up with Cosby. Can I talk about his shenanigans in your documentary?" with a zany introspection that how a star acts on the screen doesn't, in actuality, reflect how this person is on a daily basis. Again, a revelation.

The documentary again and again poses the question of how he managed to do it for so long without someone blowing the whistle. "Someone had to know." Kamau Bell keeps repeating. Yet, paradoxically, the other shoe never drops. No one is even being directly accused of covering it up, not even the people who outright admit they knew what Cosby was doing. No, it's the impalpable rape culture. So please believe all accusations women make, regardless of the burden of proof. Honestly, it was just as expected of a standpoint as the requisite racism chapter. The only thing I agree with in the whole discussion is that the statute of limitations shouldn't exist for any crime that has a victim.

Of course, the most striking aspect of the documentary is that he was released while they were filming, so you get to see a "live reaction to that information" from a big cast of interviewees and an examination of the denial of his supporters.

12 (2007)

Immoderately emotional

[7/10 · 25 April 2024]

A relatively standard remake that follows the narrative of the original until the third act. At which point it flips the script on its head and inherently becomes about a completely altered topic than it was supposed to be. Instead of it being a triumph of civil society over a lynch mob mentality, this remake becomes an outcry and finger-wagging for the fact that no one (in this case in Russia) is willing to initiate a commitment to actually do anything about perceived wrongs and injustices in society. The indignation that people are all too comfortable to gleefully point out the truths or falsehoods of something but not, in practice, do anything about it is when the line is drawn between action and their welfare or time.

It might seem way too domineering when that third act shoe drops, especially when this reproving oration comes from a juror that is played by the director himself. However, first of all, he wasn't even supposed to play him. He wanted his favorite Oleg Menshikov, and second, his speech didn't change anyone's mind. With him being the only one to stick up for the Chechen teen, that doesn't mean there's some sort of implied martyrdom on the second juror's part. If anything, the first juror's chat with what I'm assuming is the soul of the dead father in the form of a bird is the core behest of the theme. It's up to you whether you even choose to impart anything from it.

Fittingly, the movie is much more mournful and dreary than the original ever could afford, being a play and all. I didn't much care for boys flashbacks to Chechnya, but the idea to set it up in a gym was great. The electricity issues and the recreations of the apartments make the conversations much more animated here, and animated these performances are, because a lot of the actors do dial up the dramatization of the argument quite a bit. Specifically, Yuri Stoyanov, who categorically was acting on an entirely different wavelength than everyone else. Conversely, Sergei Garmash was magnificent and perfectly combined the bitterness and anger. The soundtrack was very good, even if some sound stingers were downright predictable, like it was a sound design format from some horror flick.

The much more cynical view of the jurors is also expertly unveiled. I might just be misremembering the original, but in the remake, a lot of jurors straight out of the gates know that something is wrong with the case but will only speak up once another juror brings something emotionally related to the table they can relate to. Some are just talking out their asses, like the eleventh juror, who tries to identify the type of knife with a knowing, arrogant demeanor. The movie never calls him out on this, but he is completely wrong.

In the case of the third juror, it is even more morose because he isn't even convinced by any arguments, and the only point of contention that wins him over is when jealousy of women is brought up because that was the only thing he could sympathize with. It might be a bit too much for the whole narrative to eventually arrive at a conspiracy angle, but some dramatic device to actually create stakes for the boy, put him in danger, and make the right verdict turn into a negligent one was needed.

Regardless of how sanctimonious the movie ends up being, it fundamentally does not pass judgement. It just showcases something that will become even more relevant in Russia in the future.

Battle of Britain (1969)

Owed to a few

[7/10 · 14 April 2024]

Coming a year before the more famous Tora! Tora! Tora!, Battle of Britain does not flatline in its action scenes or its documentary nature for the narrative in comparison. Despite having indeed prolific actors, the movie is very scarce for actual characters. You can surely have a ball with Olivier as a downhearted Hugh Dowding, but in terms of pilots, you will only remember the actor, not the character. When the dogfights begin, you will be in a haze of action, sporadically being able to identify who you are even watching, considering the pilot masks and all. Not that there aren't any powerful acting scenes, mind you. Such as when unrecognizably young Ian McShane comes on leave and witnesses firsthand the results of Blitz and reacts with not a dramatic breakdown but a sorrowful determination.

The other noteworthy aspect is the portrayal of the Germans not as caricatures of Nazi goons but as just another side of the conflict. Although maybe too much in some regards. I highly doubt that Adolf Galland, who was advising them and threatened to quit because of the Nazi salute, wouldn't fight to remove much more harrowing scenes of maybe the executions of the pilots.

Due to the lack of main characters, the main pageants are dogfights. They are numerous and sure to go up in intensity, even if they are shot in a way that you can't tell who is who until you see the markings. The smashing of the radio models was also competently made with you being seldom even able to gauge the difference in scale. The score sure makes them dramatic and intense. Overall, an amazing orchestration, especially the main theme.

A Man Called Otto (2022)

Lamentable remake of a mediocre movie

[4/10 · 14 April 2024]

Repeating beat for beat the imagery, plot, and outright scenes, this Tom Hanks machine is a pointless rumination of an already existing movie that by itself wasn't original in its own right.

I have the identical issues I had with the Swedish one, and here they are just amplified. Starting with the main character, whom the script tries it's hardest to make you feel pity for as he concurrently tells everyone to go to hell and they surprisingly never do because deep inside, they know he actually cares. No matter how insolent or dismissive he is. Do not worry, viewer, he may be angry, but he is a quirky type of angry. You know, mad about parking in the wrong place or not recycling your garbage properly. Do not fret, he isn't racist, sexist, homo or transphobic. No, no, no, that would give some nuance to his character and make him resemble Walt Kowalski too much, and we mustn't stop the pity party. So it goes.

Tom Hanks mutters to himself as he narrates to the viewer what he feels because you can't trust an actor like Hanks to silently convey his contempt or sadness. No, he has to say it. It's an American remake. Accompanied by the staple music you'd hear on some low-budget episodic TV shows on public channels.

"But why are you so cynical, schmuck? It's just a feel-good movie." How can I not be? When the remake by itself cynically upped the ante of advocacy, turning gay guy with some kind of character development to FTM with the only character trait being that he likes cars because that's what dudes do, they like freaking cars. I half expected him to chop the logs next. Not to mention the borderline satirical portrayal of social media and the insertion of the most annoying Latino woman actor I have ever seen. If this was intentional, then I applaud. Except something tells me that this Masters of Art in Latino Literature is supposed to be endearing because Iranians in the original sure managed to be lovable.

On one positive note, the transitions between flashbacks and reality were very inventive and were the only thing that even remotely perked up my interest throughout the entire movie.

Stranded (2007)

Gathering everyone to tell it again

[8/10 · 14 April 2024]

This documentary has a very sombre tone and is almost forlorn in its retelling of the narrative. It gathers pretty much everyone who, in some capacity, was involved in this tragedy. From the survivors to people who were initially looking for them. If you have never heard this story, it will vex you as you hear one of them recall how he stared at the bodies of his mother and sister, whom he couldn't save. All that, even when you can see and hear the survivors, and fundamentally, be sure that not everyone died. If you are fascinated by the story of the crash beyond measure, this is even a bigger treat because, as I said, they convene everyone for an interview. Even the shepherds who discovered the pair that had traversed the mountains. The recreations of the events, despite being clearly made to cover the fact that they weren't working with a colossal budget, ironically give off more atmosphere of dread than the 1993 movie with Hawke. They almost seek to mimic how the recollections of the events might look for survivors with the added passage of time.

Dexter: New Blood (2021–2022)

It really is the 9th season

[6/10 · 14 April 2024]

And I write it as a grievance, not an endorsement. Granted, I never subscribed to "Remember the Monsters" representing the supposed worst ending on television. Rushed? Sure. Frivolous? The last three seasons were already like that. Great endings elevate already good shows. Not the other way around.

Now we have New Blood with the unsurpassed Dexter showrunner, Clyde Phillips. His handling of the show from the 1st to the 4th seasons is widely considered to be the point where it would have been more fitting for the show to just stop, because it never got any better than that. Inauspiciously, he is going to deliver a beat-for-beat formula of 5-8 seasons again. Meaning interesting first three episodes, meandering middle, frantic, and contrived ending. So I guess Phillips wasn't the secret sauce after all. By all means, it's not abhorrent. However, to say that it is leagues ahead of previous seasons would be just insincerity.

The show postpones THE conversation between Dexter and Harrison to a point where nothing momentous is even done with his son knowing who Dexter truly is. All the while, the show wastes episodes on making Dexter do stupid, completely out-of-character rubbish that rivals his season 8 clown act. Throughout the season, you will be asking yourself why he would do any of this, only to find out that this was specifically to incriminate himself, so that Angela, through several Google searches and a couple of quick suppositions, connected the dots. You can excuse it however you want. Whether he is rusty or unfocused, the same rationalization can be applied to the previous panned seasons. It's all part of the same formulaic jig. Dexter's actions led to him putting himself deeper and deeper into the noose. The other part of the jig is the residential serial killer opposing Dexter. The antagonist. There is honestly nothing to say about him. With the exception of his trophy room, nothing about him is novel, and his motivation is just moronic to the point where I thought it wasn't even real to begin with, like there was another layer to it that he blocked out or something. No, his dad just beat prostitutes, and it rubbed off on him.

As much as Dexter deserves the bullet, how this bullet lands for sure makes your eyes roll as Dexter speedruns in his head that he doesn't want to live anymore, and the second time, doing full-flip inside your skull, as psycho Harrison is let go after it all. I have no idea why. Thoroughly, nothing in Angela's conduct is supposed to indicate that she would have this type of pity for Harrison. I realize that you wanted your Harrison spin-off, but I do not understand why at the cost of Dexter's "redemption" season.

Pompeii (I) (2014)

Peeving squabbles during the Apocalypse

[4/10 · 4 April 2024]

Throwing into the cauldron all the epics you have probably already watched, ranging from Titanic to Gladiator, the one titular novelty this movie provides is just not enough to cover the banality of what actually happens on the screen.

A British-centric narrative with a stoic, lifeless protagonist enslaved by the wicked Romans and swooned over by a Pompeian "princess" who thinks Rome is undignified and yucky despite being a member of its upper class at the point in time where her city was one of the biggest benefactors of Roman might and conquests. Actually, for all the claims of authenticity about the way the city was laid out and how the catastrophe went down, Anderson has made. He sure went out of his way to insert a boatload of halfwitted presumptions about Pompeii's relationship with Rome. Making it look like behind the independent nature of the city sits some kind of aversion for the empire itself. Once again, he is a Brit, so it's only natural for them to corrupt European history outside of their island. But did the ends justify the means?

Hell no. Thinking themselves daring, the creators didn't come up with a way for you to emotionally relate to one of the biggest catastrophes in ancient Rome but to just recreate the Jack and Rose love story with all the cliches that come with it but ten times duller. Featuring moronic fighting, chases and squabbles during what Pliny described as a literal apocalyptic event.

The eruption itself looks decent, but not the city. For the most part, it looks fake, with Roman paraphernalia of random busts and decorations in every corner. To compensate for how artificial all environments look from even a slightly tilted-down angle. There is really nothing to say about characters aside from maybe wishing that Atticus was the protagonist and leaning into his "two fights until retirement" trope. But once again, a British story, so feast your eyes on Kit Harington and his unquestionably impressive abbs, as this Celt, who definitely has never seen a volcano or even knows the concept of it, attributes its eruption to his gods wrath. Despite the movie previously suggesting that Pompeii is at odds with Roman conquest policies. Ave Titus anyone?

Lovers of the Arctic Circle (1998)

Whimsical musings on fate

[7/10 · 4 April 2024]

Deliberately preposterous, this movie wears its contrived story-telling on its sleeves. Presenting its poetic love story through as many cycles and coincidences as they could cram into the narrative.

It is, for all intents and purposes, a fable of escapism into their preordained love, opposing the dour reality around them. No matter how much they run from each other, they can't get their provident captivation out of their heads. Considering that love is the central leitmotif of the movie, it's truly heartbreaking to witness other characters who lack it or lose it fade away or perish due to besetting depression and heartache. It definitely makes you yearn for their reunion.

Unfortunately, the insistence on telling the story through a string of hefty coincidences will lead you immediately to presume that there is also a king-sized tragedy coming at the end of it, pushed by these very same contrived coincidences. So when the soppy tragedy finally strikes, you can already see it coming, like 10 minutes prior. It also comes across as bewildering because the foreshadowing and build-up just don't feel merited compared to what actually transpires.

One other thing that bothered me, besides numerous instances of 'Engrish', is just how uneven the aging of the pair is. Not to insult anyone, but Ana's aging can't be called graceful by any stretch of imagination.

Local Hero (1983)

All-consuming charm of rural Scotland

[8/10 · 4 April 2024]

With a theme that at first glance appears to be as worn out as cinema itself, Local Hero still proficiently and ingenuously conveys how a sense of community and belonging will always triumph over any material possessions. As was said, the script doesn't really revamp the wheel in that regard, except for one thing. In any other story, the residents of the town wouldn't stomach corporate stooges trying to buy up their town for an oil refinery. But here they actually yearn to sell, only pretending to be averse in front of the pair to drive up the price.

Unfortunately, the full switch-up of roles never happens with Mac. Despite being enamoured, he never progresses to hankering for the town to stay. Hence, the movie has no real conflict. There is no antagonist, and thus the sole entertainment of the script is the myriad of scenes showing the pulling power and the oddities of the town. Multiple little plot lines run in parallel until Happer himself arrives. My absolute favorite is the ego humiliation bit, which isn't even on the island. I honestly half expected him to appear there after Happer arrived. That would have been hysterical.

The movie doesn't try to be some anti-capitalism hogwash, leaning much more into humanitarianism. The beauty of the town and its surroundings are conveyed impeccably. This is probably one of the most cinematic-looking beaches I have ever seen, for sure.

The soundtrack and especially the final theme are incredible and leave a huge lasting impression along with the ending. It's a touching one and makes you think about your own values in parallel, and that's really all the movie needs to do in my book to be masterful.

Inferno (1980)

Giallo that is doodled on a lap

[5/10 · 4 April 2024]

In Susperia, the irrationality of its characters was driven by the fact that they were intended to be children, but the producers didn't allow actual children to be depicted in that manner. So the actresses were aged up, but the infantile mannerism stayed, giving the picture its gripping allure.

What's the Inferno's excuse? Maybe it has something to do with Argento being immensely sick during filming and being either absent or strictly lying down. Regardless, these characters and everything they do are driven by the script's conceits, abandoning all notions of coherence. If the character is to be killed or behold a spooky visual, he or she will walk into the middle of the lake with his crutches to dump a bag of cats, or he or she will pursue a piece of information from a letter that isn't even addressed to them or has no tangible reason to interest them beyond its being in the script.

Watching this plot unfold is a bit infuriating because it is basically just characters randomly deciding to follow inane breadcrumbs. In addition to obliviously walking into the traps that are being sprung up by nothing but witch magic.

It is the ultimate example of style over substance, and in some way, the movie understands it. It is visually engaging, the soundtrack is memorable, the kills are striking, and it even has Hitchcock's principle of throwing animals at women for a visual. But because of the senseless, inhuman reactions of the characters, it's hard to feel anything for them. The guy's sister just dies in the middle of the movie, and it's not even used in any way. It is just another kill, despite her being the protagonist for the first part of the movie. The ending clearly shows that they didn't know how to end it either and that their Three Mothers had no point or theme they tried to impart.

Wolf Hall (2015)

Nothing here is personal

[8/10 · 19 March 2024]

Exquisite period drama, oozing with atmosphere and offering its main character contemplative and observant stature as the primary counselor to its overall pacing.

How many times has the story of Henry VIII going through his wives been told? I shudder to even count, but this unique perspective from a man who had to plan and carry out the deed while the king tried to abstain as much as he physically could is categorically excellent.

Cromwell, being a complete puzzle of a person to the historians, lays a lot of opportunities to present his motives and sentiments however you want in fiction, and even if I found it absurd that the mockery play about Wolsey's fall became some kind of inadvertent revenge motivator for him, everything else about Cromwell I considered way more enthralling than it had any right to be. Being both an outcast in court and yet adapting on the fly to its cynicism is a splendid mixture of narratives. One thing that needs to be highlighted is that, despite bending events to align with their fiction, the authenticity of the period is beyond perfection, no doubt, and that's what is important. That goes from natural light sources to casting. Mark Rylance does everything to convey in his understated acting method that Cromwell never says anything without weighting every word on a proverbial scale, as you can almost hear gear churning between every pause he makes. It's hardly portrait-perfect casting, of course, but I'm looking at The Mirror and the Light casting of certain figures, and I'm definitely glad that we got Wolf Hall when we've got it and not later after the BBC jumped head-in into quota casting.

The soundtrack in the series is also incredible, contributing to the sensation of a prolonged funeral march. Not in the sense that it's boring or something, just that everyone is doomed, and the series knows it and presents it as such.

Of course, people claim revisionism, but at least in my opinion, they just want a different kind of alteration, only for their favorite figure of that age, be it Moore or Boylen. I, however, just don't see the supposed slander. They are all shown as humans, with emotions and faults, so unless your position is that they shouldn't have been anything but a blameless martyr with no frailty, what is there to be upset about?

The Menu (2022)

There is truly nothing new in the genre

[6/10 · 13 March 2024]

A Swedish buffet of deriding entitlement, snobbery, gender issues, and class, for some reason. It is baffling that creators pretend that this restaurant is anywhere near the shoveler bracket unless, from the writer's ivory tower, producing anything automatically makes you a giver. However, if it is all just a cigar for you and you avoid similar mental confrontations with the presumptuous theme about it being an allegory for art itself, then it is a decent black comedy with respectable acting and a great soundtrack.

For me, even those great actors can't save the characters. Or rather, a lack thereof, because what is on display are societal dead horses the satirists have been mauling for decades now: yappies, politicians, and critics. They try to insert small talk among them, but it's the epitome of forced. They are non-characters. Despite Hoult's captivating performance, the writers' mocking of his character's idolization of Slowik lacks depth and seemingly comes from a place of not relating to someone cherishing a hobby.

Almost all worthwhile hobbies require some monetary investment, from collecting Space Marines to yachting. The movie never even tries to establish that Tyler's smugness comes from any other source but his deep passion for food. Yes, he can't cook, so what? Is this one of those "you are beneath the author if you can't match him?" How elitist of you, movie. What made the writers believe that Tyler enjoying the chef's course was less genuine than Anya dispassionately biting a cheeseburger to save herself? I guess you can't be insufferable about it. That's the difference. What is it with Hollywood and pretending fast food is genuine hearty meals for the unassuming peasants? Buns? The same thing as in Triangle of Sadness, also from this year.

I surmise that you can't expect a lot of nuance knowing that the movie is born from one of the writers visiting such a restaurant in Norway, being anxious and confused, and then judging that it's all actually pretentious and a try-hard sham for the rich elite that don't know anything about gastronomy and should be mocked as such.

The Death of Mr. Lazarescu (2005)

Gruelling and long-winded venture of dying

[8/10 · 12 March 2024]

Despite the director claiming that he in no way tried to depict Romanian healthcare workers as inadequate or heartless, this still turns into an uncanny portrayal for anyone who has ever been in any hospital in post-Soviet countries. It is almost harrowing how close the entitlement, ego exercises, pecking order, and just general nonchalant and dismissive attitudes of the doctors are. Especially specifically blaming any and all ailments on alcohol and talking with other doctors about complete random hogwash during your diagnosis. So, like it or not, the rendition is so spot on that it is obvious that a lot of consultation went into making the depiction of free healthcare services as close to reality as possible.

At two and a half hours, you get to experience probably the most infernal and grim way of dying possible. Alone and slowly losing your cognition, as everyone around you would rather be doing anything else but helping you. The on-the-nose character naming doesn't really leave anything to interpretation, as it's probably obvious what's going to happen after the cut to black. The handheld camera work does its job, even though it really doesn't try to go for any interesting framing. Regardless, the movie by itself is quite a unique experience in film, and don't let anyone tell you it's a comedy of any black variety. The only absurd thing about it is how authentic doctors sound when they do their finger-wagging routine.

Creed III (2023)

Cutting Creed's umbilical cord

[6/10 · 11 March 2024]

Conversely, do not think that this movie doesn't use the Rocky formula. In fact, on the surface, this is just a mix of Rocky 3 and 5, but there is one key difference, and that's the antagonist.

Jonathan Majors is probably one of the finest opponents this franchise has had since Drago, in the sense that the movie ingeniously positions him as not being one, despite everyone around Adonis saying that Damian has a chip on his shoulder. When you really look at him and his circumstances from the side, why shouldn't he have one?

He threw away his peak years and doesn't have much left in the limelight. Of course he wants success quickly, of course he is jealous and perturbed, and of course he attributes Creed's ascendancy to a boxing legend to himself, and I would have loved it if the movie kept it this way. Unfortunately, the plot reveals that Viktor's broken wrist wasn't in fact 'fate' but Damian's doing, which I wholeheartedly regard as unnecessary because it would have been much more engrossing if in the final fight you could have found yourself conflicted over who you wanted to win. But no, Creed has to be the morally correct one, even if circumstances make it seem forced and a bit asinine.

It doesn't mean that the final fight isn't enthralling, since they graciously decided to tone down Damian's antagonism for it, making it indeed far more embittered than I expected. There is a fascinating direction for this fight, too. It really feels like sports anime paraphernalia, but, whatever, I think it worked pretty well (at least until the prison bars).

What I truly don't understand is exactly what Sly has seen as being so "dark" in this. Adonis and Damian end the movie reconciling, and it's not like no one has ever died in Rocky movies before. However, I think this particular script was already written without Rocky in mind because I wouldn't even know where to put Sly in this movie, the script just never seemed to have a hole for Stallion peg to begin with.

Let It Be (1970)

A piece of music history

[5/10 · 11 March 2024]

By which I mean that it's the equivalent of staring at a two thousand-year-old piece of Roman armor in a glass case with no indication of what period this is. It may be cool-looking and pivotal to history (or so you assume), but you wouldn't spend an hour staring at it. The context surrounding the creation and the implications that you can only really discover outside of this movie are what make it special to some. As a movie, well, you are better off listening to the album or any of the versions of it.

Despite the filming of this going on during the dissolution of the band, the only way to tell is through some passive aggressive remarks, the presence of Yoko, and Harrison inexplicably disappearing somewhere in the middle of one section and reappearing later. All of this is to say that you really need to be in on Beatlemania to even fully appreciate this. Which I am not. So with no interviews, no plot and no novelty, the music and the final concert footage are all there is to it. Granted, it is an iconic image of them doing that impromptu concert on the roof, and there is no more amusing scene I can imagine but an elderly British gentleman with a bowler hat and pipe climbing a fire escape ladder to see their last concert.

Landscape in the Mist (1988)

A hazy dreamscape of timespan and personal growth

[7/10 · 4 March 2024]

Creating a remarkably bizarre journey that inexplicably commits to the surrealistic dream logic yet keeps the stark contrast of the harsh and dour reality of how two delusional and unprepared children crossing a whole country searching for a father that doesn't exist would feasibly look like.

It's rough, but the children will persist.

Together with the fairy tale that the sister describes in the beginning, bizarre occurrences will seep into their journey. It becomes quite obvious that it's not going to be a down-to-earth road movie. It even has its own version of a knight on an armored horse, but unfortunately for the sister, even there, her hopes are to be dashed against grim reality. The kids are genuinely great. And many scenes must have been very difficult to direct with them, especially that one scene.

In fact, the movie is so visually depressing, with a great deal of long shots of industrial, run-down, rustic scenery in Greece, that you wouldn't be ungrounded to think that the primary theme the director tries to communicate is how depressing the country is and how everyone wants to get out of there, to the point of creating a fairy tale to motivate themselves, and how the country's history and identity are relegated to a bunch of 'remember-when' conversations. But it's not about that, at least I hope. Their wayfaring is just a personification of how, on our journey through time, not everything is going to make sense, and if you quell the rationality to dismiss everything nonsensical you encounter on this path, you might... actually, here I fall silent because I don't think the movie even remotely pretends it had an end destination.