Working on It

(a review of John Wick: Chapter 2 (2017))

(spoilers for John Wick: Chapter 2, John Wick (2014))

Oh my everloving fuck with the middle child movies lately. At least this one is definitely getting a finale, and man will it be good, but I’m going to be so fucking anxious about this whole ordeal until the series is finished.

Chapter 2 was damn good, like the first. Its predecessor I found better, but this entry shined so well because it delved much more deeply into the world of assassins and other such walks of life. I get so wrapped up into the mythology. It’s a deep, multifaceted world, and so inviting too. In this film we get to see kind of the underground of the underground, a network of hobos and probably vagabonds led by Laurence Fishburne. John enlists the help of this Bowery King to heal from a series of failed hit attempts on his life, and to further his goals.

There’s much in this film, somehow more than in the last, about dredging up the past. The tone almost tells a complete story of John Wick, but leaves just enough out to solidify his enigma. We learn in this film that he apparently required aid to complete his impossible task the night he wanted out some years before, another theme in this entry: humanizing John Wick. He gets hurt more, needs help more. So really throughout this series we are peeling away the layers to understand the nature of a higher being, maybe to find out he is not that different. If I’m not wrong, and I truly hope I’m not, the third film will be an exploration of anger, of the motivational rage within a man. And what a ride it will be.

 

Wasn’t Your Daddy

(a review of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017))

(spoilers)

Fifteen movies in and I’m not even close to getting tired of the MCU. Guardians 2 was yet another in a long line of mostly masterful Marvel-comic-book-based films all somehow managing to smoothly take place in the same world. But you know this, I know this, everyone knows this, so let’s cut the preamble. It’s the MCU. It’s so familiar. I might as well be talking about bread.

As with any good sequel, I sat and contemplated (for use right here in this blog) which film in this series within a series was better, but no contest Guardians 1. The story was better, the characterization was more honest, and the humor wasn’t forced at all. But, pluses and minuses, the villain in 2 was better. Way better. I haven’t felt such seething hatred for a villain since… I don’t know. Some time ago. (I’m bad at this.) And kudos to Kurt Russell for bringing to life one of my favorite Marvel villains from my childhood.

This second film also had the best Stan Lee cameo yet, confirming, mostly, a long-running fan theory than Stan the Man is the same being across all Marvel films and is at least associated with the Watchers if not an uncannily different-looking member of their race. A long believer of this theory and participant in discussions regarding why it makes so much sense, I felt truly engaged, although this may have been planned from the outset.

But speaking of emotions, another reason that Vol. 2 was a strong contender against Vol. 1 was the heartstring angle. As I said, I truly hated Ego, and that started with, “It broke my heart to put that tumor in her head,” an intensely personal, humanizing touch to his sociopathy and villainy. But other than that is the obvious: Yondu’s death. And not just his death, but his sacrifice, and the expression of his true nature beforehand. Three years ago he would have died, I wouldn’t have cared, and he forever would have been “Blue Merle.” Now I’ll watch The Walking Dead sometime in the future and get nostalgic for Yondu.

So where does Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 rank in the MCU? Sixth, seventh maybe. It certainly wasn’t bad by any stretch of the imagination. There are simply too many superb films to choose from in this list already, with many more to come from the looks of things.

Beaver Catching

(a review of It (2017))

(spoilers)

Blown away. I was blown away. This movie was fantastic. Coming off of several years of development, many changes of writer, director, titular actor, and the general schism of what should and should not be included from the source material (yeah, no thanks on the orgy), I had high hopes but was uncertain. That was until the first trailer premiered, and I knew then that I was right to hope.

The story of seven children versus an ageless entity that eats humans and salts the meat with their fear is so basic yet so complex. To look at it through a single scope it to see a coming of age story where kids face their various fears, and conquer them. But It is more than that. And much of the complexity is revealed in the title. “It” speaks of mystery, of anonymity, and of innocence. The monster is not Pennywise the dancing clown anymore than it is a mummy or a leper, and yet it is all of those things and more. It is formless, and all forms, all at once. And It’s aggressors, seven children, know not how to address It, even amongst themselves. It is an “it” because giving it a name would show some kind of knowledge, and understanding is the death of fear. Even as adults the monster will be “It” because they are still afraid, an emotion than transports one back to childhood.

And I felt all of this theming and nuance in the film. Group that with the already great story, some out of this world acting by the seven Losers, and effects so perfectly designed, this movie was everything, if not a little lacking in the fright department. But only as a comparison to other films. Horror is in the eye of the beholder, and I know some like theirs with a little extra scary or some added gore, but this film to me was just the right amount, exactly scary enough; I wasn’t pissing myself, and I wasn’t laughing at its attempts.

And as for the ending, I could not have thought of a more perfect finale. A huge fan of good final battles, of course I was in love, but the way Pennywise is so damaged, and how he drops deeper into the sewer system to wait for the adults to come back in twenty-seven years where they will have to delve deeper if they are to conquer evil was just great, iconic cinema. I cannot wait for Chapter 2.

Giving My Consent

(a review of Ghost in the Shell (2017))

(spoilers)

I really don’t want to talk about whitewashing and the problem it may or may not be, so I’m not gonna. Not now, at least.

What I’d rather get into is that this is my first (maybe?) review of a feature film based on anime/manga. To start, I fucking hate anime. I hate the exaggerated nonsense, I hate the cinematography, I hate how cheap a lot of it is, I hate the overly drawn-out stories, and I hate the super fans. But this movie looked awesome, and it wasn’t anime, it was real people.

I honestly don’t have much to say about this film other than that I greatly enjoyed it. It was a really good story, it was fantastic philosophical scifi, so on. Most of my more pathetic complaints I voiced in my previous review on The Dark Tower, about building worlds we never get to see more of, but again, that’s on me for being greedy, as this story does not need more chapters to be complete. Beyond that though, I have to actually commend this film; it finally put the correct word into my mouth that I can use in future arguments against weeaboos (http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Weeaboo): ‘subtlety.’ What I hate so much about anime is that it lacks subtlety. And, readers, stop here and inbox me your suggestions that prove otherwise, I will watch them (also maybe), but in my experience, this is vastly true. And this aspect reverberated in Ghost in the Shell.

I don’t know how the manga and anime were written, having never viewed either, but if I were a bettin’ man, I would guess they are just as in your face as this movie was about its central theme.

“Your ghost, Major. Your ghost. Your ghost in your shell.”

I get it!

Come one, use the word ‘soul’ every once in a while. Talk all about her soul, and how it’s still in her body even though her body’s more machine now than man. I’m a smart person, I’d get the theme, I’d get the title, I’d question if it’s really her soul or because she’s so close to robot maybe it’s not a soul but more of a dead soul… like a, a…. Like a ghost! And the body, her robot body, and how she learns they’re controlling her, keeping her encased, keeping her soul, her ghost, trapped, in like… in a shell! I get it! Wow!

If you think I’m being too sarcastic, you haven’t watched the movie. They really harp on this, and it takes away from some otherwise good dialogue. The story had several interesting characters, fair plot twists, and again tapped into a vast, engaging cyberpunk world. I just would’ve shot myself if they said the movie title one more time.

Oh, and, why did mostly everyone speak in English except for their commander and like one other person? I don’t get why that’s a thing. But, he made up for it by being a badass, so it’s cool.

Throwaway Bullies & Not Enough Demons

(a review of The Dark Tower (2017))

(spoilers for The Dark Tower, Jupiter Ascending (2015))

Trying so hard to win us back to the side of films based on Stephen King works following decades of mostly bad ones, we’re getting two this year in theatres and another on Netflix, all of which have looked promising. And The Dark Tower was good, I guess. I get dazzled by how fantastic both Idris Elba and Matthew McConaughey are. The kid that played Jake did well too, surprisingly so when considering the number of shitty child actors that get work anyway. I can say that I was sufficiently wowed by this one, but didn’t fall in love with it.

Sure, it had plenty to like, baritone eye candy aside. I sure do love when the asshole stepfather gets fucked and dead. Moreso, the kid actually agrees, “Yeah, fuck this place,” and goes off with the cool cowboy dude to another dimension, something you know I get all pissy about if you remember my Jupiter Ascending review. But despite a cool ending and plenty of imagination, the whole ordeal was fairly rushed. Either not confident in the possibility of a sequel or just lazy or whatever, this story began, middled, and ended. I mean, we’re talking about Randall Flagg here, but still, McConaughey seemed pretty dead, everything seemed pretty final.

I went in to this hoping for the beginning of a saga; maybe not eight movies, but like three of four. Really there just wasn’t enough for me. In that regard I am again reminded of Jupiter Ascending, but also of The Fifth Element, The Nightmare Before Christmas, and Ghost in the Shell (next! Giving My Consent), all of which tantalize with vast, inviting worlds but shut their doors and never let us explore any further. (Unless for Nightmare you count Oogie’s Revenge, or Kingdom Hearts.) If a sequel was planned but never made (John Carter, The Golden Compass) okay I get it, and I do read that The Dark Tower might get a sequel film and a prequel TV series, but not only is none of that guaranteed but more importantly the movie ended. The conclusion had that sweet sense of finality, the long-awaited death of a serious antagonist following his utter defeat.

There’s something to be said here for hope. Largely and truly am I not the man to predict the waxing and waning interests of moviegoers not only everywhere but even in my home country (I can barely convince my friends why some movies are better than they think), but isn’t it feasible that having little confidence in a film’s success reflects within that movie if you allow it to? I may be wrong, but gambling on an ending that would provide more leeway for a sequel when you clearly want one seems like the better choice, because that makes people want one too. The list I wrote above, The Fifth Element, The Nightmare Before Christmas, they don’t need sequels, I just want sequels because I’m greedy and in love. The Dark Tower needs a sequel, needs an expansion on the story and the world built within, or at least it did all the way until the ending. And the difference here from the other listed movies is that the story was rushed through and unsatisfying while those other films have very satisfying stories.

I know I could just go read the Dark Tower novels (likewise for John Carter and His Dark Materials), something I fully intend to do anyway, but that’s not the point. Books continue to work for their film versions when they premiere as backdrops, as usually better versions of the same story that take more of your time. They’re there to explain away some of the things that don’t make sense in the film versions (which happens a lot in the Harry Potter films), either directly or simply by being more inviting. Of course this is not the case one hundred percent of the time; on rare occasions, the film is actually better (Stardust). But my point here is that a film should be able to stand on its own feet. I do not fully discount the books but a film also requires a spine. It should not force me to say, “Okay, I guess I’ll go read the books,” because it wasn’t satisfying enough or the sequel is never going to get made or for whatever reason. Yes I should certainly go read the books anyway, but the audience should be encouraged to do so, not forced.

A Life Sentence for a Rose

(a review of Beauty and the Beast (2017))

(spoilers for Beauty and the Beast, Beauty and the Beast (1991), Les Misérables (2012))

The latest in Disney’s growing list of live-action remakes of their own films, soon to include The Lion King and Mulan, Beauty and the Beast was… enjoyable. I’ll admit I was never really big on Beauty and the Beast. It’s fine, it just doesn’t do anything for me. So for this review mostly what I want to talk about is the criticism of Emma Watson’s singing rampant the moment this film premiered.

It seems that after Les Mis (2012) everyone became a fucking pitch expert, not even close to mildly critiquing every single goddamn flat note in an epic dramatic tale over two and a half hours long. Mostly I just hate when people don’t shut up, but this was especially bad because I didn’t find the complaints valid. Was every singer perfect? No, of course not. However, the slight off keys and flat notes and whatever else (I’m no music expert either) were made by actors, people being paid to experience and convey the emotions of their characters, and I find it all the more convincing when someone is singing of their struggles and crying and they miss a note, because the jarring difference brings you back to reality, where this person has become a prostitute to give their daughter a place to live, or is about to jump off a bridge because they’re an asshole.

And like I said, ever since then, and maybe also because of Pitch Perfect, everyone has to spend their time not shutting up about less than amazing singing. Emma Watson’s no opera singer, but to me Belle doesn’t have to be. To the keen eye it’s obvious when the song is live-sung and when it was prerecorded and added in post, but I’ll take that over shitty, on the set sound quality any day.

Mostly, just be quiet and enjoy everything else this gorgeous movie had to offer. Beautiful sets, well-needed inclusions to the story, including the repair of a couple plot holes from the 1991 film, and a satisfying final encounter with a villain much deeper and identifiable than previously portrayed. Why are the loudest voices always the ones trying to negate a good thing?

Palace Burn Well

(a review of King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017))

(spoilers)

Who the fuck didn’t like this movie?

Guy Ritchie’s first of a proposed six film Arthur series, now most likely down to the first of a one film Arthur series, is fast-paced, thrilling, a true delight to watch. It juggles compelling story, dark themes, brilliant innovations to the mythos, and superb action sequences. In typical Ritchie style (I know, I said I wouldn’t do this anymore, but it’s for explanation), a lot of information is spliced into expertly cut montages set to perfectly coordinated and appropriate music, making a dialogue-driven scene or overall film seem action and progression heavy. The child sequence, for example, something we’ve seen a hundred times in fantasy or crime or historical films, the first scenes that show how the protagonist became who they are as an adult by learning whatever lesson from whomever, a fifteen to twenty-five minute chunk of the film, easy, Ritchie manages to do in three minutes without rushing anything we would have learned in the longer version. And it’s never, not once, confusing. It’s genius, inarguable genius filmmaking.

And I can’t stand that this movie isn’t doing very well. From a $175 million budget, not even $100 million has been broken (at the time of writing this when I saw it like two weeks ago; now it’s still only $134.3 million). Either it wasn’t marketed very well (which is possible despite what I read as being another $100 million on marketing because I only remember seeing one trailer months ago), or the critics are killing it, which I find more likely. And damn them.

This. This is why I’m writing this stupid little blog. Because critics suck and they ruin everything good. And damn the people who don’t go see a movie based solely on their word. You wanna talk about Shalit, fucking Maltin, Siskel, et cetera, and critics that always thumb up a safe film? An old film? How about googling their favorite movies? Find out what they thought about your favorite movie. I guarantee most of you will be disappointed to find out that this big name that you love gave your favorite a thumb in the shit, or one star, or made some dumb pun and told thousands of viewers or readers to not bother, thus perpetuating the lack of more films akin to those you enjoy. Mine was written off with a tepid but insulting “not a great success.” And if you think I’m freaking out, well maybe I am. I’m just sick to death of the pandering. I’m sick to death of seeing The Godfather or shitty E.T. or motherfucking The Wizard of Oz (the book was goddamn better!) as everyone’s favorite fucking film. I’m big on evolution, and cinema is not dead to me, but growing. Black and white, overacting Clark Gables, and the same wholesome message every day from every movie are things of the past, respectable childlike memories, fond memories if they’re your thing, but not a basis on which all should continue to be, and it feels so dirty to have someone dump all over a thing you can love as much as a favorite film. It’s just like having a favorite book or a favorite video game. Your favorite one is something, to most people, that you identify with, that feels like part of your soul.

What happened to fun? When did so many noses get turned up in the air just because cinema is art? I agree it’s art, of course, but more of a sociological art, the art of making things and seeing how people react to them. And no matter what it works, because this is just another drop in the mounting evidence that humanity will almost always choose to not think for itself when others are thinking for them. So listen to me. I like movies. I don’t go to the theatre to hate a movie; I always go and sit down with hope that this could be my new favorite. And of course that never happens, not since 2006, but why not hope? Afterall, it’s only a movie.

And I did say, “(spoilers),” so here it is. The final battle between Arthur and his uncle, not great, I’ll admit. I’m more of a fan of steadycam for epic sword fights, instead of shakycam or whatever the Hell that sweeping angular thing was. Knock it off. Otherwise, though, seriously, I cannot overstate how good this movie was. Fucking good.

(Note: Check out that 7.3 on IMDB. See? People sometimes come through when critic’s don’t.)

Not an Udder

(a review of Power Rangers (2017))

(spoilers)

I know I’m not the first one to make this comparison, but the beginning of Power Rangers was like a less devastating Chronicle. And it was absolutely fantastic. Fuck the mixed critic reviews, this movie was fucking awesome and I want like eight sequels.

I really can’t stand the original MMPR show anymore. As a kid of course I loved it, and when the movie came out I watched it literally every day for a couple months (probably drove my poor mom crazy, too). But I can see the awfulness now: the formula, the overacting, the terrible writing. Well, except Ivan Ooze. He’s still cool with me.

Power Rangers (2017) took all of the good bones from the series, the general idea, the emphasis on fighting, and some of the key themes, and rolled out a well-paced, heartfelt teen action adventure. I liked the general updates (getting rid of the racism) and thoughtful alterations to the mythology (Zordon and Rita being former Rangers). I read that the comedic elements were not enjoyed, many critics underappreciating the value of laughter in favor of complaining that the comedy didn’t mesh well with the action, because yeah there’s nothing tumultuous and in need of comic relief about a PG-13 action movie. And of course, idiots had to complain loudly for the sake of their delicate, backwards sensibilities about the inclusion of a gay or bi character and about Billy being autistic, but I need not touch on all that. Basically, if you agree, go read a different blog, hick.

So yeah, overall good movie, good action, good story, good acting, even a good tragic scene, which is difficult to do, considering you know Billy’s not gonna be perma-dead. I think what I liked most and least was Kimberly’s story. I liked, really, really liked, the fact that not all of the to-be Rangers were saints. Kimberly least of all because she bitchily spread around a private photo (nude selfie) of one of her fellow cheerleaders, thus landing her in the same Breakfast Club-esque detention as the rest of her soon-to-be partners in heroism. I loved that. I loved hating her for that. And it gave so much more of a reason for her to try to redeem herself. However, the movie ruined it a little. Near the end, during the final battle, the victim of said cyberbullying and her friend, having much earlier in the film ousted (righteously, as it turns out) Kimberly, got the cliched bully-who-bullies-the-main-character-has-something-bad-happen-to-them-not-death-but-like-some-rubble-lands-on-their-car-and-they-get-scared treatment, which for once was terribly undeserved and kind of reverses the good moral lesson. Granted, there was also the bully who bullied Billy in that same car because coincidences, and he totally deserved it, but it wasn’t his car, so he just got scared a little bit and that’s all. At least those bastards Bulk and Skull were made to look like fools almost every single fucking episode.

Sunseeker

(a review of Logan (2017))

(spoilers for a lot of the X-Men film series (2000-2017))

And finally to fully catch up I went to the theatre to see Logan. As I mentioned before, Logan really isn’t the eventuality of either X-Men timeline. There’s no way the wartorn world of Days of Future Past becomes this world, yet he has the katana given to him in The Wolverine, and Mariko’s company, if you pay enough attention, is said to own the property on which Charles Xavier resides. He only went to Japan based on certain key events of The Last Stand (killing the love of his life), although one could argue that the girl with the weird shaped head still found him and maybe he went to Japan and all of that happened anyway since he didn’t have to kill Jean but still didn’t end up with her. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe that’s how it is in the original graphic novel too, that the Old Man Logan story arc is an alternate reality.

Logan was seductively sad. The most well-made movie in the franchise, it is nothing if it is not an exceedingly depressing story with a matching tragic ending. Wolverine is slowly, slowly dying, losing his healing ability to a poisonous side effect of the adamantium inside him. Not only that, but the aging Professor X’s mind, falling to dementia, killed almost all mutants on the planet some time ago, and now only those two and Caliban remain. It might just be merely my own hope that this is not the culminating film in the story, the ultimate ending after all of that strife to fix mutant/human relations and undo so much death. Maybe we can say that this is the reality in which Deadpool doesn’t exist, because I’m sure he’d still be around somewhere after Charles’ accident.

And it could not have been done without the R-rating. ‘Gritty’ doesn’t even cover how raw, how violent, how savage of an emotional trudge this movie was to watch. And it made sense, for the viewer and the characters. After nearly two decades of Wolverine’s anger this is the closest I’ve ever come to being convinced by a film that maybe immortality isn’t all that great, especially if your body is just barely warding off a death that will eventually, excruciatingly slowly, catch up to you, leaving you in the meantime desperate, in pain, suicidal, and feeling worthless. I mentioned a couple months ago when I was talking about The Wolverine that the titular mutant is a character you are always meant to connect with, and how in that film it was easy to understand his plight because we all feel powerless at least some of the time. This was a similar, agonizingly palpable experience from beginning to end.

All casting choices were well enough made. Stephen Merchant played a far less irritating Caliban than whomever (don’t care) in Apocalypse. Although both portrayals of the character were fitting to their stations. I liked the idea of X-23 being introduced as a child, and wouldn’t really mind another offshoot series about her and the other kids continuing into the future. Mostly I hope (again, I hope) that this does not turn out to be Jackman’s last portrayal of Wolverine. Don’t get me wrong, I like the idea from stylistic and storytelling approaches of the last appearance being death, but there’s nothing wrong with throwing in at least a fight scene alongside Deadpool in one of his movies that take place well before this one. C’mon, it’s what everybody wants, and then he can retire the character and we can all think of his final appearance with a smile, instead of the image of two sticks forming an ‘x’ reflected in our eyes.