[7.5/10] This show has earned a lot of trust. Sure, if you parse through Walter White’s plans or Jimmy McGill’s schemes, some of them rely on happy accidents or have pieces that don’t fully add up. But for the most part, the Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul-verse plays fair. If something is unclear, or scans as peculiar, or even just seems confusing, you can normally rest assured that if you wait long enough, a satisfying explanation or payoff is on the way.
Which is all to say that I think I understand Lalo’s ultimate goal. He doesn’t just want to kill the chicken man; he wants to discredit him with the cartel so that the murder will be justified in the eyes of their fellow “businessmen”. The Salamanca leader wants proof that Gus Fring was preparing to build his own lab, to be able to do business independently of the cartel, something the audience knows as well as Lalo wouldn’t fly with Don Eladio or his associates. It’s a clever plan, one with an elegance and consideration that makes it worthy of threatening Gus and making Lalo a formidable opponent.
But I have no idea how Lalo arrived at it. How much valuable info did he really get from his brief conversation with Werner back in “Winner”, the season 4 finale? How did he track down Werner’s wife, Margarethe? How does a slide ruler encased in lucite, engraved with “With Love, from Your Boys” bring him closer to finding them?
You can imagine answers to these questions. Maybe the details he heard from Werner were enough for a smart guy like Lalo to piece together what Gus was up to, or at least realize Fring was doing something shady. (Or shady by drug runner standards.) Maybe the info Lalo got from the guy at the TravelWire was enough for him to pinpoint a woman named Margarethe in the general area. Maybe the tag at the bottom of the lucite memento will be enough to get him to the facility that made it and track down their client and get one of Werner’s boys to spill out of a loyalty to their leader and a desire for Lalo to get revenge on the men who ordered and carried out his death. But it all requires a few more logical leaps than you normally get from a tightly-orchestrated show like Better Call Saul.
The same goes for Gus’ actions in “Black and Blue.” I love ninety percent of what we see of him here. This normally unflappable man is utterly paranoid. Actually, paranoid’s the wrong word, since he’s justified in his fears about a shark like Lalo. Nevertheless, it’s unusual, to say the least, to see Gus rattled. He can’t do his work at Pollos Hermanos. He can’t work the cash register without zoning out in a state of low-grade terror. He can’t sleep and finds himself scrubbing bathtubs with a toothbrush as part of his fear-exacerbated OCD.
The episode nicely lays out why. Mike says it -- this is a waiting game. Gus isn’t used to waiting. He likes to take action. He plans everything out to the finest detail. He prepares for the future and executes his plan. But now, somebody else is in charge of the when and why and how, and all he can do is react. That's an unfamiliar position for Gus, and one that unsettles him even in his own home and place of business.
But I don’t know why he descends into the bowels of his superlab and tucks a gun into the tire tread of an excavation vehicle. Once again, you can read between the lines a bit. Presumably he’s onto Lalo’s game. He worries that someone, whether Lalo or a representative of the cartel, will force him into his off-the-books cooking site, and he’ll be forced to defend himself. So he’s providing his future self a Chekov’s gun to be able to use if he’s cornered.
That requires a lot of forethought from Gus though. It requires him to predict exactly how this might go down and have exactly the right remedy for it. Maybe the plan will blow up in his face in it’ll take some crazy intervention from Mike or others to save him, not the gun. Maybe he had the flash of recollection of Lalo learning the info from Werner and just wanted to cover his bases. Maybe he’s in full paranoid mode and is just trying to provide for every conceivable contingency, no matter how unlikely, because he has to do something other than sit around and wait for the attempt on his life to happen. You can justify most of this stuff in some terms, but it doesn’t play as natural, and requires near-clairvoyance from Gus.
The contrivance in all of this doesn’t make everything bad, though. Seeing Fring squirm is a remarkable thing, and it’s a positive that the show takes its time to depict the typically steady boss freaking out a little bit in his own understated way. Lalo’s plan requires filling in a few gaps, but his flirtatious scene with Margarethe plays his debonair manipulation to the hilt. His snooping and willingness to kill another civilian makes his scenes in her house terrifying. (Plus, for a guy who bears a resemblance to Timothy Dalton -- no relation -- his scenes feel appropriately Bond-esque.) And guest actress Andrea Sooch does a tremendous job as Margarethe, evincing the love she had for her husband and the pain she still feels over her loss.
Seeing Werner’s wife recollect and grieve, Lalo fish for information however he can get it, and Gus panic in an uncharacteristic way are all worthwhile, even if the paths to get there require some narrative contortions.
Gus isn’t the only one, panicking though. Kim is likewise afraid of Lalo, unable to sleep at three in the morning, barricading doors, and having a smoke to try to calm down. Seeing the way this weighs on her, while she feels as though she can’t tell Jimmy the truth lest it trigger an even worse response from him, is a compelling note for Rhea Seehorn to play. It could mess him up mentally at a time when he’s doing well, happy with his new success and able to hire back Francesca to manage his big influx of clients. Kim understandably doesn’t want to disrupt that. And we also see the intimacy between she and Jimmy in their home life, the casual chumminess they have apart from their plotting and scheming.
Howard’s onto that scheming, though. For once, we see why Howard is successful at what he does, calming a room full of elderly class members and convincing them that their lawyers aren’t just fighting to get them more money, hence the delays, but fighting for a broader principal about not letting big companies take advantage of people. Who knows if Howard believes it himself, but he sells it better than poor overwhelmed Erin can, and it shows the audience that he may be a prick, but he’s not a schmuck. There’s a reason he’s risen to where he is, even if it’s just packaging pablum with the perfection of a politician.
Clifford confronts him about the suspicious goings on of late, not out of a sense of accusation, but as an offer of help. He really is the most decent man in this entire show. But his offer of assistance only tips Howard off that, once again, Jimmy McGill is out to get him.
That’s where it gets bizarre though. Hamlin, under the cheeky pseudonym “Mr. H.O. Ward,” lures Jimmy into an impromptu boxing match. It feels silly, even by Better Call Saul’s occasionally outsized standards. The show doesn’t dress up two middle-aged guys throwing body shots at one another. It’s awkward and ugly the way it ought to be. But it seems unbelievable that either one of them would go through with a stunt like this.
Only here, “Black and Blue” provides answers. For Howard, it’s an opportunity not just to maybe, just maybe, work out some of the pair’s psychological issues through physical activity, but a chance to sic a private eye on Jimmy. Howard’s no rube, after what he’s been through. He’s fighting fire with fire, hoping to catch his antagonizer in the act and clearing his name with his co-counsel. The fact that his tail might run into Gus’ tail on Jimmy and Kim only leads to even more tantalizing possibilities.
More to the point, we learn why Saul would do it, when he has every reason to just walk away from Howard. Kim explains it -- because Jimmy knows what happens next. He knows that they’re going to ruin Hamlin’s life. And just like Kim starts to feel a twinge of guilt when her former colleague talks about how much she admires Kim, Jimmy feels the same. He wants to let Howard have his jollies while he can, because he knows the hammer will fall soon.
It’s a satisfying answer for an absurd thing. That's the trust I have in Better Call Saul writ large, to be able to cover for contrivances like Lalo’s detective work and Fring’s premonitions in a way that's emotionally and narratively satisfying. This show, and its predecessor, aren’t perfect in every detail, but they’re strong when it counts. More to the point, they’re strong enough at delivering that punch, that turn, that unexpected but cathartic jolt in the story, that makes you trust wherever they’d like to take you, and however they’d like to get there.
The early arcs might drag slightly, but oh, the four part finale redeems it all.It has everything essential about these characters. Anakin's desperate longing for human connection and for those he holds most dear to be alright, and the rejection and disillusionment he feels from the weight of this war. Obi-Wan swallowing down his doubts and hopes to be the perfect model Jedi, pushing away and distancing himself from his closest friends in the process. Yoda hopeless and raw, wishing for the old days when Ahsoka was a Jedi and the Jedi weren't soldiers, and unable to shake the dread in his soul.
And, of course, the core trio of this season- Ahsoka, Rex, and Maul- shine. Maul's the last physical antagonist of the show but even in this moment he's overshadowed by Sidious. There's this dread to him as he can sense that everything is about to change, that he is always one step behind his master. He's always playing catch up, always surviving instead of thriving. That is his tragedy- a pawn that's outlived his usefulness trying to become a king. A man who thinks vengeance and power will finally give him satisfaction, but the pursuit of these things have only left him alone and hollow. Like Vader himself, it's that tragedy that makes him so compelling to watch, and Witwer perfectly acts every inch of Maul's bitterness and despair and dissatisfaction. Maul hates who he is, what he knows, and he will never be satisfied. He will never be happy. But he has no choice to be what he is, from the very beginning. He never had a chance.
None of them do. Maul is desperate, even willing to team up with his sworn enemy Kenobi to kill Skywalker. This is his last fight against the inevitability of fate, and it is already doomed. Neither of them arrived- they were called to 'rescue' Palpatine from Grevious. Ahsoka came instead. Sidious is about to seize power. Anakin's already killed Dooku, falling further and further. It's too late for Maul to stop his master and too late for Ahsoka to save hers. And yet they fight anyway. Because Ahsoka believes in Anakin so much, she cannot turn against him. She knows this is not the clones' fault, so she cannot kill them. She's left the Jedi Order and has found her own morals, her own way. Rex, meanwhile has come to realize he moves his brothers above all else, but must fight against them. Each of them have their own pathos that makes this enthralling entertainment.
The fight scenes are gorgeous- Ahsoka and Maul's battle being a standout. The beautiful environments, from the shattered throne room to the icy moon the series ends on, will take your breath away. But more than anything else, the ending justifies it all. Each Star Wars movie, even the darkest, end with at least a hint of triumph, or a light flung into the future. Attack of the Clones almost ends on the formation of the clones, a moment Yoda dreads, but the marriage of Anakin and Padame is a reminder that Luke and Lelia are on the way. Empire Strikes Back and Last Jedi both end with the heroes fractured but not broken, ready for round three. And even Revenge of the Sith assures us Luke and Leia will make things right in the end. Animated contemporaries Rebels and Resistance, too, end in triumph.
Not Clone Wars.
Clone Wars is a tragedy. There is no flash forward to better days, there is no hint of the rebellion, or that Ahsoka and Rex will be fine in the end. The last shot of Ahsoka shows her haunted, and the last shot of the show...is Vader, reflected in the helmet of one of the clones he respected so much, and was respected by in turn.A helmet specially decorated in support of Ahsoka, who both Anakin and the 501st adored, a last reminder of Anakin's and the clones' humanity, completely discarded. The ending doesn't care about the Skywalker Saga, about Anakin being redeemed in the end, or Luke rising up, or Rey carrying on their legacy. And that's what makes it great.
The clones were made for this war- pawns from life to death. All to help facilitate Anakin’s fall. For Anakin and his prophecy the clones and so many people from the Jedi to the average man suffered and died in a brutal, grueling war that only led to a brutal and grueling regime. All actors of a play they were never privy to. The show has the conviction to not cushion that blow.It is about the Clone Wars, not what comes after, and the Clone wars was a tragedy without redemption. Nothing will have made this war matter retroactively. The vast majority of people have no idea that a rebellion is forming or that Luke and Leia were born. All the Jedi and clones and civilians we've grown attached to and seen die certainly don't. The Clone Wars pulls back and shows exactly what the Skywalker Saga, what the Chosen One prophecy, has wrought on the people that saga turned its back on- the nobodies. The ordinary. After one horrendous finale, this one- this show- shows what Star Wars could be, and quite possibly never will be again. And I will always love it for that.
7.5/10. Dan Harmon, creator of Community is known for several things -- his trademark bottle of vodka, his tendency to spill his guts to audiences full of strangers, but also his story circle. The story circle is a device that Harmon uses as a blueprint for nearly any story he writes or supervises. It offers a series of steps to telling a story: 1. A character is in a zone of comfort; 2. But they want something; 3. They enter an unfamiliar situation; 4. Adapt to it; 5. Get what they wanted; 6. Pay a heavy price for it; 7. Then return to their familiar situation; 8. Having changed.
Brooklyn is basically Story Circle: The Movie. Eilis may not have the best life in Ireland, but she is comfortable there. But she hopes and wants for a better life than she can expect to have in the Emerald Isle. So she moves to Brooklyn, a situation whose unfamiliarity is hammered home from the first Irish immigrant she meets on the boat, to her fellow boarders who snip at her a bit, but also guide her through her new surroundings. She slowly but surely grows accustomed to her new home, with its different social mores and customs. She eventually has a good job, a future in accounting, a boyfriend, and the good life her sister wanted for her when she helped send Eilis to America. But just as she grows comfortable in that new life, she pays the price not being able to be home for her sister's funeral or to comfort her mother in person. Eventually, she's able to return home, but as the film makes clear in its third act, she is much different person now then when she left it.
That's not meant to be a criticism of the film. That type of adherence to story structure does lead to a film that feels conventional, and in truth Brooklyn is a feel-good story that is as interested in a film experience that feels like slipping into a warm bath as it is in proceeding through its simple-but-sweet coming of age tale. The notes are familiar, but the melody is beautiful, and the audience goes home happy.
At one point, Eilis offers her beau, Tony, an adjective to describe herself -- amenable. And it's the perfect way to describe Brooklyn It's a very amenable film, happy to lean into the soft hues of the past to tell a love story, and immigrant story, and a bildungsroman, in gentle tones that provoke smiles and sighs as Eilis finds happiness, love, and fulfillment despite her initial reservations and homesickness.
If I have a criticism, its that Eilis's journey is almost too successful. For all the accusations of unrealistic perfection leveled at Rey in Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Eilis is a paragon of good fortune throughout Brooklyn. Nearly everyone she meets in Ireland and in Brooklyn short of the prickly Miss Kelly likes her and helps her to feel more comfortable in whatever her current surroundings are. To boot, she becomes successful at nearly whatever she sets her mind to, from working at the department story, to courting, to her burgeoning skills as a bookkeeper.
But that's not to say Eilis does not face challenges in the film. Hers are challenges of conscience rather than the standard plot obstacles we expect our cinematic protagonists to leap over. The crux of the film is Eilis returning to the land that she thought had nothing there for her, and finding that she was wrong, that there is good work, and friendship, and family, and a nice boy with a good future. Suddenly, the life she forged across the pond, the one with her husband, and her studies, and seems distant, something that unexpectedly has to compete with the renewed comforts of home. The choice the film stakes out -- whether to take the stronger, more confident persona Eilis has built back to Ireland and start a life there better than any she hoped to be able to enjoy, or return to the place that made her into that stronger person with the man she pledged her love to.
The problem is that as well as the film sets up that choice, and lays out compelling elements on both sides of the equation, it glosses over the conclusion in a somewhat unsatisfying fashion. While the touch of Miss Kelly's would-be blackmail is nice, it seems abrupt that after all the time the film spends setting up Eilis's hometown as somewhere that Eilis has a place and could be happy, one harsh woman is enough to send her back to New York. There's subtext about an iron fist hiding beneath the velvet glove that's been offered to Eilis since she returned to Enniscorthy, but it's hard to see it anyone besides Miss Kelly, with everyone else in the town seeming a bit pushy and presumptive, but also genuinely enamored with the young Ms. Lacey. Her confession to her mother is a quietly powerful scene, and the breakup letter she gives to her Irish beau feels like too easy way to resolve that relationship, but more than anything, it just feels odd that one mean old crow is all it takes to convince Eilis that she could never have a life in a place that, despite the vows she's tried so hard to put out of her mind, seemed to welcome her with open arms.
Still, the scene where Tony finds Eilis waiting for him and the pair embrace is a sweet moment, even if it doesn't feel totally earned given what motivated Eilis to come to that point. But it's a lovely image in a film full of them. Brooklyn is awash in muted pastels and primary colors, that give the past a gauzy hue that catches the eye and conveys the sense of a sweeter, simpler time. It's also a supremely well-shot film, that shoots Eilis and Jim Farrell at the beach having a conversation with their romantic companions framed in between them in the distance, conveying the subtext of the exchange. It's also a film keen to use subtle touches to show changes in Eilis's mood or perspective, from the simple act of wearing her bathing suit under her clothes that impresses her friends back home, to the letters she shoves in a drawer to signify the way in which she's putting Brooklyn out of her mind. None of these techniques is so subtle that the viewer will miss them, but the film takes the old admonition "show don't tell" to heart, and succeeds well with that principle in mind.
In the end, Brooklyn is a fairly simple story. Girl leaves home. Girl makes a new life with success and romance. Girl returns home, seeing the beauty of what she left behind and has to choose her new life or her old one. But the film's pleasures come from the sweet stillness of the moments in between, of the temping worlds the film creates on either side of Eilis, in the recognizable steps of maturation, of change, that Eilis goes through as she moves past her homesickness, past her reticence, and eventually, past the girl she used to be. Brooklyn is an aggressively amiable film, that breaks little new ground, but covers the familiar territory with such a pleasant, charming air, that it can be forgiven for making few new steps.
I've literally seen this movie decades ago and really enjoyed it then, but during the last years entirely forgot about it - until I saw Split in a sneak preview - when they showed the closing (or after credit?) scene, I was the only one in the cinema hall screaming "Oh my god, this is Unbreakable", while all the other visitors where puzzled. Unbelievable. Even my girlfriend didn't know the movie, so it had to be rewatched, and as "Glass" will be released this month, we finally got to actually watching it:
David Dunn (portrait by Bruce Willis) lives an ordinary life in modest circumstances, working as a football stadium security guy who is estranged from his wife and planing to start anew, when he gets in a train accident which he survives as the only person. He is then approached by the comic book enthusiast and comic art trader Elijah Price (Samuel L. Jackson) who is certain that David is a real life impersonation of all the super heroes written about in comic books. He tries to mentor David who doesn't believe a word...
Being a comic book fan and loving the mid 2000s for all the stunning great super hero movies (Sam Raimis Spider-Man, X-Men, The Dark Knight Trilogy, Hellboy, Constantine, Watchman, 300, Sin City and of course the first MCU movies), I have to say this movie really stands out. It's not a typical comic book movie - it's not based on a comic book, it isn't even seeing itself as a typical super hero movie - it's rather a meta comic book movie, all the while having an integral part of typical comic books and focusing on this relevant mechanism that every comic book thrives on.
All the while this movie is so totally different to any super hero movie you have ever seen. Totally calm, slow paced, no special effects, hardly any fight scenes, all the while absolutely thrilling due to brilliant cinematography, great acting and a killer score. The characters and their relations are as deep as in a drama movie, and nearly the entire movie is a built up to a great finale and an unexpected turn of events. There is no CGI, no action, not even a hero vs super villain showdown. All the while it touches the essence of every comic book story, and does so in an ingenious way.
Because of this, of course not everyone will like the movie - a lot will probably not even consider it an comic book or action hero movie. But it really is a memorization of the comic book genre and given its age, and the fact that it came before the action hero genre took off, it really aged well - even after all the Marvel, DC and independent stuff this movie stands out as a great movie.
And now I am really looking forward to seeing the final movie :)
This is clearly Matthew Vaughn’s attempt to shake things up and expand the Kingsman films into new territory.
It's a very respectable choice (it’s easier to play it safe, because ultimately that’s what most people want), but we end up with a film that doesn’t quite get the appeal of the franchise.
They used to be keep it simple, character driven and fun, and instead they went with something that’s too plot driven and overly serious here.
A big part of what makes the first film great are its characters. Now, Ralph Fiennes is quite good in this, but Harris Dickinson’s character is very one dimensional (and his performance doensn’t have the charisma that Taron Edgerton gave to Eggsy), and the villains all feel like they’re ripped out of a saturday morning cartoon.
It also struggles with its tone because of that. Like I said before, this is at parts oddly serious for a Kingsman film, and then every time it cuts to the villains it feels like a completely different film and it goes completely bonkers, fully embracing the camp. It kinda reminded me of the first Wonder Woman movie in that regard.
The production makes up for a lot, though. It’s very stylish, you can instantly tell that this isn’t a generic Hollywood production. There’s a lot of personality in the visuals, and the action is well staged (not nearly as tacky as in The Golden Circle), I just wish there was a little more of it.
I’d say it’s about as good as the second film. Not really memorable or something worth recommending, but it has its moments.
4.5/10
I started watching The Time Traveller's Wife last night. I loved the book and read it so many times i dogeared the copy I had.I hated the movie that came out some years back. Eric Bana and that Adams chick just didn't capture the characters for me.
Theo James though... oh gosh, he is Henry. He's absolutely Henry. Rose Leslie is a good actress, and she's doing a good job, I am not sure I like her as Claire. I'm not sure why, but she's just not fitting the picture I made in my head about this woman with guts and long love. I can't fault her acting though, she's doing a great job. But it's Theo doing it for me.
I honestly am yet to not like him in anything. I can't tell if I think he's pretty, or if he's a good actor or a bad actor. I just like watching him... he makes me believe every character I've seen him play. And say what, for me, he has definitely captured Henry's humor, his fear, his kindness, his ruthlessness, his wily cunningness, all of it... I particularly loved the scene with him and Rose Leslie in The Stacks where Henry introduces Claire to his mother.
Gosh... he totally sold me.
I read a half and half kind of review from a big outlet a couple of weeks ago, and was very surprised someone attempted this story again, and was totally prepared for another wan attempt, but no... I am really liking this.
This is definitely doing some justice to Niffenegger's beautiful love story.
Excellent last season of an awesome show. I'm pleased how they connect all loose ends and got the transition to BB right. I don't have to point out that this show is well written and looks beautiful.
There are some weaker elements though:
Den of Thieves is like the male reproductive organ: exciting at each end but long and boring in the middle.
It's a trap most films of this genre fall into. An action scene at the beginning to grab our attention and one at the end for a climax, but in the middle nothing but cliches. And with the European version clocking in at TWO HOURS AND TWENTY MINUTES (WTF!?) there's a lot of room for cliches.
The renegade police squad as bent as the criminal gang they're pursuing is a cliche we've come to expect, but too much time is wasted demonstrating how '3-dimensional' and 'fleshed out' these men are. To be sure, there's enough beefcake here to choke the deepest of throats (Gerard Butler, Pablo Schreiber and 50 Cent are so cut their shirts keep falling off), so they're 3D and fleshed out all right, but family men? We're meant to believe they consider family important, yet the only proof of that we're given is they feel guilty every time they treat their families like shite.
It's a shame, really. Christian Gudegast does a competent job directing the action and suspense, but he should've stuck to that rather than drawing so heavily on the source material (a 1992 non-fiction book by Pulitzer Prize winning author James B. Stewart).
No, Den of Thieves is not the epic cops and robbers film it thinks it is. It's simply a giant fake boob: over-inflated, self-aggrandizing and not as unique as it thinks it is.
I recently watched "The Revenant", another Man vs. Nature film also set in the 1820s. If that film and "In The Heart Of The Sea" have showed me anything it's that I'm thrilled that I didn't have to live during that period of time. Both films do a very good job of highlighting Man's helplessness against the world without his tools. I think the same thing holds true today, it's just that it would take a bit longer for Nature to win in the 2010s. But make no mistake, she'd win.
"In The Heart Of The Sea" was not what I expected, which was a story about amazing heroism and bravery. Instead, this morphed into a tale of survival, complete with some disgusting do-it-or-die actions by the crew of the Essex.
This was a letdown from a visual perspective. All of the scenes just screamed CGI. And casting Chris Hemsworth and Cillian Murphy as the main characters felt entirely wrong.
An admission here...I've never read "Moby Dick" so I have no idea how closely this movie follows the book. I was continually surprised by where the film went, though. The tone got very desperate and downright depressing. The impression I had was that this would be a breathless, sea mist in the face, hearty tale of a battle against a mighty beast. That's not how it went at all.
The absolute cheek of Hulu calling this a "Hulu Original" when it was originally announced in 2012, got stuck in development hell at 20th Century Fox, then was planned to release under Entertainment Studios Motion Pictures, then the release was postponed, re-announced, delayed again before the film leaked a few months ago…
Hulu, you had nothing to do with creating this movie; please don't brand it like you did.
I'm also interested in any background on why the version Hulu released this week runs only 94 minutes, when IMDB indicates the runtime should be 100 minutes. What did they cut? I wonder…
I have to admit that it's fun. The characters are all pretty flat, even Roy, but the concept is cool enough even if Mel Gibson makes for a really lame villain with no depth whatsoever.
Where others objected to the title, I thought "Boss Level" was fairly apt. Roy's experience mirrors what a gamer might have to do in order to clear a particularly difficult level in a video game. That worked really well for me—much better than the characters.
You think Selina Lo ever got tired of saying, "I am Guan Yin, and Guan Yin has done this"? :joy:
Alright, I know I am probably alone on this. I know it’s not incest, they aren’t actually related. But Luther x Alison was weird as fuck, they were sneaking around trying to bang each other while talking about “their sibling” and “their father”. If you are going to make them a thing, don’t make them view each other as siblings! And how that relates to this episode (and apparently those to follow) is me by default disliking Luther x Sloane. It’s nasty and feels like the same thing. (Because in my mind, alternative universe but they are all still kind of sort of siblings, ya know.)
And because I see Vanya/ Viktor being such a hot topic here. I hoped he would keep just being Vanya once Elliot came out, not going to lie. But Vanya transitioning to be Viktor was handled very simply and briefly, which is how I prefer my LGBT characters at this point. I am sick and tired of the woke agenda always taking things too far and just preaching instead of treating them (us actually, lesbo here) like normal people. Sexuality and transitioning is not a personality trait, stop treating it as such. The brothers reaction basically being “yeah, cool. Anyway —“ was refreshing lmfao.
Apparently, the former entry on trakt was removed in favour of this new entry which is now recommended on my Dashboard instead.
Sooo...I am going to copy my previous writeup of the now first season here again:
Reminds me of a German book named "Fettnäpfchenführer Japan: Die Axt im Chrysanthemenwald", loosely (and rather literally) translated it's something along the line of "Putting your foot into your mouth-Guide Japan: To act like a brute". It follows the fictional character Mr. Hoffmann, a German "salaryman", who goes to Japan without any prior knowledge. The book is supposed to be a guide into all the - for westerners - weird and confusing customs of Japanese culture. You know, like to not wear shoes inside a house, present giving out of respect, slurping noodles in public, how to behave around your seniors, how to talk to elders and how to kids, hierarchical stuff where to sit in an office and so on. The problem with the book, though, is this:
It's incredibly stereotypical. Hoffmann is the embodiment of every stereotype of an idiot, ignorant white man from the west, embarassing himself whenever he can. All of this is an attempt at giving the fictional situations a way of "teaching" you, the reader, what not to do. But it's over the top, very cringeworthy and heavily unrealistic, because Hoffmann is behaving like an idiot throughout, the character is unlikable and has no merits, no positive attributes at all.
This show is basically the filmed version of the book in very different situations. May, however, isn't an idiot like Hoffmann in this. At least. Even if it seems like he is deliberately setup in situations to be embarassed. But or because of that, he is very often - if not most of the times - very condescending, narrow-minded, cynical and incredibly judgemental and very rude to most of his guides and their culture to their face. I am sure, when they filmed it, they told their guides in some way, that they'd make some fun but in the cut version that you see these scenes do not paint a constructive, positive and respectful picture at all.
The moments where May is more behaving like a respectful adult are when he is in his own element, so cars or food basically. The most shallow ways to go about this, I'd say. These things get not a lot of screen time, though. Surprising in terms of food. But they seem to be the only things May has visible interest in. Even if that literally means showing scenes of him doing some gymnastics in a factory where they aren't allowed to film anything else of interest. Where I was wondering why'd they put that into this show at all then? Wasted time.
Now, I hear May fans say "you didn't get his humour then". Yes, that is another thing, add in British humour to this mix and you get an a-hole of a host. Not that British humour tends to be that way, but in combination with his behaviour you do in this particular show. I am not sure if May has any interest of doing this or if it is simply his twisted dry British humour that comes off as like he just doesn't give a damn. Either way, May is highly unlikable in this. So much so, that I assume you need to be a James May fan to be entertained by him as a host. Saying people disliking this do not get his humour are supporting that claim (look at the reviews on Amazon to see these kind of deflective responses).
Maid Cafe scene is a great example. You could argue, that Maid Cafes are an over sexualization of maids and a cafe is cashing in on that fantasy. I can see where this argument is coming from, yes. But the Cafe in on itself isn't sexualized. If you've seen videos of Maid Cafes on YouTube you know they are cringeworthy but nowhere near sexual at all. If you make this a sexual thing, that is on you.
Maid Cafes and all sorts of these are an experience, often cringeworthy at worst, I might add. May, on the other hand, is the best version of his narrow-minded, judgemental character he can be in this particular scene. Flat out disrespectful. If he doesn't like it, or simply doesn't want to do it, that is fine. To each their own. But this show is about the Japanese culture, and Maid Cafes - to some extent (keyword "Cosplay" as his guide brings up) - are a part of it in a way.
This is yet another scene making me think, why did they cut this in? Is it supposed to be funny, how May tries to escape his guides to not be in this type of Cafe? The issue here is, it uselessly stigmatizes the whole thing, not just Maid Cafes, but also Cosplay even more and undermines the show's intent on bringing you closer to the modern Japan and making May "truly understand the Land of the Rising Sun". There's no critical exchange about it. Just "it's sexual and gross" - Cut. Next scene. There's no open mindness, no understanding in this, no reasoning, no critical contemplation. Again, why then put this in this particular show?
If this is the desired show's morale, the off-scene of the statue with a sword on his waist that May says looks like a penis (it doesn't, imo) while hysterically laughing is the other side to this but equally questionable why that was put in. To show that May isn't as bad of a character he comes off as otherwise?
There are scenes that are funny and do work, but they are rare ("Bim" is one of the best ones in this).
The filming and locations overall are great but at times oddly chosen (snowball fight teams?). The host is awful. The guides are well chosen. The concept doesn't work in it's cut version at all and feels like a rag rug of scenese with a Japanese backdrop. Seems like the people involved didn't really know what to do with this show either. At best you get a few glimpes here and there into Japanese culture, but it's always only superficial and often done to be made fun of.
What's this show really about? Cashing in on some of that juicy Amazon money?
This is terrible. Completely unbelievable in every way:
- When does the police ever let a civilian lead an investigation? The famous author Marcus stumbles upon evidence, time and again quite easily, that the police sergeant failed to catch during his investigation of the same case.
- Marcus honored Harry’s request to burn his notes without looking at them, especially given that a copy of the manuscript was found with Nola’s body.
- How is it possible that Nola and Luther maintained a regular correspondence (enough to write an entire book) but neither Nola nor Harry realized this during all the days they spent together?
- The police deiced to check when the missing girl’s mother died only in the eight episode. What a twist, huh?
Wooden, unbelievable characters. They could have come straight out of the most banal stereotypes - reclusive famous author, tough black detective, secretive small town folk, Lolitaesque nymphet - Nola, (it sounds like Lola, which is reminiscent of Lolita, how clever, right?) has literally no personality. She is the epitome of a manic pixie dream girl, wearing skimpy summer dresses, traumatized by life.
The acting is not that great either, reminded of a poor lifetime movie. Horrible ageing makeup, and Patrick Dempsey was supposed to look 34? Yeah, right.
I can only repeat myself. This was dragging and the implausibilities just keep continuing.
More than two hours for an episode... I really don't understand why. You watch this and the evening is gone. You definitely can't binch this season. So I don't see a benefit for Netflix. The viewer definitely has none. With episodes this long the structuring becomes incredibly weak. You basically have forgotten what the episode started with once you are at the end. It just seems they felt the need to cram all storylines for all characters in there somehow. In my opinion they should have shortened everything happening outside of Hawkins and just brought everything together much earlier. These parts did not add much and for the few "character-development-bits" no spacial distance was necessary.
When finally trying to connect these lines it feels incredibly forced and quite frankly unnecessary except for Elevens part. Which still could have happened the same way with her being stuck in a facility in Hawkins or basically anywhere. The Russian storyline took ages to finally take of and just didn't really convince me in terms of being connected to fighting Vecna. In fact it did not feel connected to any of the rest. If they had made the adults fight an incursion from the Upside Down in Russia for most of the season which climaxes simultaneously to the events in Hawkins, both sides thereby supporting each other by weakening the enemy from two sides it would have been so much better and more believable connected.
On top of that the finale seamlessly connects to the clishee-ridden rest of the season. Too many tropes like the coward sacrificing himself or the power of love triumphing over ... well everything.
For all the tension build up, in the right moments things just fall into place way too easily. The Sinclairs overcoming their tormentors and El escaping her shackles in time because suddenly Vecna who supposedly becomes more powerful with each victim he takes takes an awfully long time to subdue and kill Max. Something that took mere seconds with all the previous victims.
This scene is cut so annoyingly long by literally cutting back and forth between all the different storylines it was the worst of timing.
One's monologue did not convince me either. He states El is allegedly responsible for his deeds when he clearly told her that he was murderous and wanted to eradicate - at least part of - humanity before even being part of Brenner's programme.
That being said it wasn't all bad. From a technical perspective there was only little left wanting. The acting was also perfectly fine up to amazing. "Master of Puppets" was a really great moment and a perfect choice as regards content. Lucas crying out in agony was so well acted. I just loved the slow motion shot of Nancy unloading her shotgun and Dustin telling Mr. Munson about Eddie was the only scene in the entire season that actually made me tear up.
However the epilogue again felt just so quick and dirty. Why the fuck was everyone so unfazed by what just happened? They did not defeat Vecna and the town was destroyed... Whatever happened to the two Russians? Or the military? Why is noone suspicious of these giant unnatural rifts in the middle of town?
Overall I am not a big fan of retroactively inserting a mastermind behind all that's happened before. This is just screaming for plotholes. And to me Vecna was by far the least frightening enemy. I just don't understand why people feel this is the season with the most horror. Yes it was dark and gory at times but after Chrissy's death there wasn't anything new in terms of horror.
In the end the entire season feels more like the first half of a book than a tv show with its own arc.
It is a pity. I am very disappointed in many directions.
I do not know where i should start with this review. Before i start writing anything I should say that I enjoyed Uncharted and that is the most important thing on films.There are still a few BUT.
When the movie was announced I expected the masterpiece in all directions. I could not wait for realase in cinemas. Iam very disappointed for cast. The Actors were good but Mark Wahlberg did not fit me into the role of Sulli.. I must to say it.. He is very good actor for sure, in this movie he did good performace, but he did not fit me.. I expected little robbery from the game Franchize in all the directions like epic scene with epic theme from game during that and more a serious film with occasional jokes and great character chemistry, but we did not get any of that..
So much pity... realy... It is completely comedy film where you will have fun and so much laugh, but do not expect any extra quality story with epic scenes and excellent music in the background like in the game Franchize..
There were so many mistakes, but I enjoyed movie and it was not a waste of time... I could be very worse in all aspects..
Cast 6/10
Storytelling 6/10
Characters 6,5/10
Video Prouduction/Cut/Music 6/10
Environment 3/5
Conclusion 4/5
= 63%
This movie was wrong on so many levels. It was as expected though. Jessica Simpson flat out can not act. We all knew that. But she wasn't the worst singer trying to be actor in this flick. That honor goes to Willie Nelson. His lines were mechanical and painful to hear. There had to have been someone better that auditioned to play Uncle Jesse. The paper thin plot line was about equal to one episode of the TV show in strength. It basically serves as an excuse to drive the General Lee all over Georgia to some VERY sweet stunts with a secondary purpose of letting us see Daisy show off her assets. Note that the boys seemingly drive all night to Atlanta to get the core samples tested but when they run in trouble with the law, Daisy shows up to save the day immediately. Just a minor complaint. Possibly most annoying was the character of Billy Prickett, the towns favorite son and four-time winner of the road rally. He not only looked exactly like Ben Stiller's character in Dodgeball, he was played the same. There was some entertainment value to this movie. I did enjoy it to some extent and got exactly what I was expecting.
When George Lucas created Star Wars in the 1970s, it was many things. It was influenced by samurai films of the 60s smashed with science-fiction serials in more of a fantasy style. It was a statement against the American military complex–specifically related to the Vietnam War. It was a massive risk that nobody thought would pay off. And although Star Wars is no longer a financial gamble but one of Disney's cash cows (Solo aside), many seem to have forgotten that the political edge of the franchise has always been central to its identity. While various entries in the long running staple of American cinema have had varying degrees of transparency and effectiveness in terms of making its anti-fascist elements known, the heart is still there. While the face of imperialist threats in the real world have shifted throughout the years thus necessitating a morphing of methods in Star Wars (the prequels are unbelievably prescient these days), the current state of the political climate both at home and abroad present themselves as prime targets for the dormant and sidelined political themes to come out swinging. I wouldn’t qualify Andor as coming out swinging so much as coming out brandishing a pipe bomb.
Andor is a rarity in every sense of the word. It’s a late entry in a forty-five year old franchise that feels fresher than it has any right to. It’s a prequel to a prequel about how a character who played an important role that made the climax of the original film possible. It’s an overtly political, anti-fascist, anti-imperialist narrative made by the largest film production company in the world that somehow still presents itself artfully enough that you don’t feel as though you’ve been beaten over the head with its parallels while also pushing the multitude of nuance with such clarity the emotional beats hit just as hard as (and typically in tandem with) the political beats. It boasts strong writing for character, dialogue, and plot. It’s a Disney+ series that uses a shocking amount of practical effects and looks flat-out tremendous. It features A-list actors bringing their all. But most importantly: Andor never lets its audience forget that the Empire is fascist and that fascism is bad. Full stop.
Whereas in nearly every other entry in the Star Wars cannon that uses the Empire/New Order/Sith as antagonists you understand that those figures are evil for the sake of the narrative, at times these entries lack the guts to flatly present those characters as evil because they represent a regime that pushes a political philosophy directly aimed to minimize individual freedoms, discriminate against anyone different from those in power, and strives for total control of its people and its land. I wouldn’t necessarily call this a failure in other entries so much as a calculated step at times: it would be harder to accept Anakin in the prequels, Vader’s redemption in the original trilogy, and Kylo Ren’s struggle in the sequel trilogy if any of those films were as blatant and explicit as Andor’s portrayal. Those representations do not bely fascist heart of the Empire, but they do downplay the practices of the regime so that heavier lifting for character arcs can be avoided. Andor needs you to feel the oppression. Andor needs you to understand that there is a need for rebellion and that Cassian Andor is not so much a plucky Rebellion member as he is someone who was backed into needing to fight against the Empire because they oppose his very right to exist.
There’s two sides of the same coin here in Andor. Just as we understand why the Empire is evil, we understand why the Rebellion’s guerrilla, go for broke tactics are necessary. Without them, they pose no threat. Without any attempt, the Empire continues to control. But at the same time, there’s an explicit example shown that just as the Rebellion exists because of the Empire, the extended reach of the Empire is necessary for the Rebellion to gain members to fight as well. It's an incredible touch of skill, showing how a rebellion needs to get bleak to succeed.
The writing of Andor is easily its strongest suit. The above paragraphs only begin to scratch the surface in terms of how much depth is mined from the long running franchise. Because in addition to all that’s written above, there’s so much additional nuance and detail the show adds to the Galaxy: we learn how the Empire exerts control, how the Empire builds the Death Star, how the Rebellion gets funded, how the beginning of the Rebellion consisted of so many factions that will eventually give way to that which we see in A New Hope. There’s deep, developed characters, including genuinely positive representation of diversity in terms of gender, queerness, and race. There’s ruminations on political ideologies, the purpose of daily life in the midst of an imperial takeover, how individuals have to sideline their dreams and goals so that people, collectively, have a shot to live better. And it’s no surprise it’s this good either, considering the writing credits include not one, but two Gilroys; Beau Willimon; and The Americans alum Stephen Schiff. If anything, it’s surprising that Disney was able to accrue such a high echelon of talent for a Disney+ Star Wars series. It’s surprising Disney would make a show this grounded, mature, and violent at all. And while I haven’t disliked much that Disney has done with Star Wars (some of the series are really the only complete disappointments for me) and I think The Last Jedi is the best thing Star Wars has ever done, it just shocks me this is what we got considering the state of the House of Mouse and the state of the American political system.
I’ll admit that my expectations were almost rock bottom for this series before it began its release. After The Book of Boba Fett and how reliant The Mandalorian is on fanservice (a series I still admittedly like very much), it was hard to muster too much hope for a prequel to a prequel, even if I did love Rogue One and Andor’s character within that film. I just didn’t have faith that something new could be brought to the table. My fear had been that the backlash to The Last Jedi–the most overtly political and punk entry of the sequel trilogy–had filed down Disney’s teeth, particularly considering the leaked elements of Trevorrow’s canned Episode IX: Duel of the Fates carried on the thematic threads of the unfairly maligned Episode VIII. But instead Andor makes me think that in the interim, Disney (and Kathleen Kennedy, specifically, credit where credit is due) took a step back to take stock of what stories could be told in the franchise. While I won’t ignore the filler that’s come out after The Rise of Skywalker, the strength of Andor gives me hope for the franchise moving forward, particularly considering there’s a Waititi film coming down the line and Johnson’s trilogy is (as of the time of writing) still alive–even if it’s in limbo at this point.
It takes something as fresh, focused, and potent as Andor to bring back this level of confidence. It’s a true testament to the quality of the series’s first season. And while I don’t align myself with the rabid cannibalism of the Star Wars fandom (as probably is evident by my proclamations for the prequels and The Last Jedi), it is nice just to get a win in the franchise. It’s nice not to go on the internet after watching an entry and become immediately exhausted by the sheer multitude of inane debates about it–although there does seem to be a faction of internet users who haven’t quite figured out that Andor’s overt political theming directly points the finger at American conservatism, but at least they like the show.
What really drives home my excitement for this series isn’t just the quality of its initial season, although it certainly helps. It’s that Andor has a planned arc for its second season which has already been greenlit and confirmed to be its last. It cements artistic integrity by its creative team and respects the work put into it by all those involved. Because although Star Wars is a franchise that likely isn’t going away any time soon (not that I’m complaining about that), it’s nice to know that there’s individual entries that can take pre-established elements from it and reinvent the very foundation from which it was created.
