even though the story felt kind of forced, this is the best episode so far! going to miss pb&j. loving the car jamming session, it gave me a strong lonely island vibe
This might be an unpopular opinion, but I'm really enjoying how toned down the violence is, because it really grounds the experience. Yeeting him off a second story catwalk and onto rebar is spectacle, but a simple stab wound in a quiet encounter really drives home how high the stakes are when the violence is so mundane. When it comes without spectacle or massive budgets. It reminds people of what violence actually is and forces them to connect with the intimacy of it, and I think this is something that's been a long time coming. I'm not the type to blame media for society's ills, but I do believe it could be doing more to impress upon people the consequences and nuance of violence, and The Last Of Us is a masterclass in this kind of storytelling.
I never was a Bon Jovi fan (my girlfriend is), but liked the documentary a lot. Found it very interesting how the band got big and am pretty impressed how JBJ kept his feet on the ground and didn't get drowned by fame (married his high-school girlfriend, no drugs, no dramas...).
Also a little bit sad to see how he is fighting against his voice issues.
Absolutely loved this documentary. Being born in 1986 this was pure youth sentiment for me. It was so much fun to see so many old faces from football back then and hear them talk about David Beckham and their clubs. I also enjoyed getting to know David and Victoria a little better and learning more about the people they were and are.
"i fucked a chicken once."
"okay, goo- what?" i lost it omg
Lana should do cocaine more often. :laughing:
[8.7/10] The title of this episode is “Assassins”. And what finally fells Winston Churchill from his post as Prime Minister is not a killer’s bullets. It is not the angry recriminations of his likely successor. It is not even the imploring of his sovereign. It is, instead, an uncompromising painter daring to reflect the man back as he truly is.
I suspect there’s a heavy degree of dramatization there. Real life is so rarely as neatly metaphorical like this. But frankly, I don’t care. Truth or fabrication, this episode is pathos-ridden, stunning rendition of what it’s like for a man so enamored with his own larger-than-life grandiosity that it’s become a protective shell, to have it punctured by truth, in a way that wounds him, but also frees him, however bitter that freedom may be.
It is John Lithgow’s finest hour on the show to date, no small feat. It is the writers at their most intimate and lyrical. And it is the series writ large at its most personal and poetic, depicting not the fall of a lion, but rather one forced to admit to himself that he’s already in winter.
However thickly the show lays on the metaphor, I like the idea that Churchill is a man who is very much concerned with symbolism, with projecting strength and dignity. It comes through in the advice he’s given to Elizabeth for her Commonwealth tour and beyond. It comes through in him lying to her about his illness. And naturally, it even comes through in something as small as his official portraiture on his eightieth birthday.
When Graham Sutherland comes for their posing sessions, Churchill bloviates on about omitting background factories from his own efforts on the canvas, about the artist representing the good and omitting the bad, about how Sutherland is not just painting a man but the office of the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and all that represents. Winston desperately wants to maintain the image of vigor, of pride, of the shining dignity through which he’s defined himself all these years, which gives him the confidence, and in his mind the right, to stay on as Prime Minister.
The Queen is clinging onto a certain image as well. I find the pairing of stories here interesting. Because what unites them is the sense of someone unassuming and low on the totem pole inadvertently throwing bombs into the lives of national figures. What poses trouble for Elizabeth’s domestic tranquility is not some dashing statesman or literal knight in shining armor. It is a paunchy, understated horse trainer who goes by the ridiculous nickname Porchey.
Credit where it’s due, while this story is a bit of an odd fit (did we really need to see the horse hump?) I appreciate the boldness of strongly gesturing toward Philip having affairs, and suggesting that for her part, the Queen at least had an emotional intimacy with someone other than her husband. The rockiness of the royal marriage is not something I expected a glossy show like The Crown to delve into, but it’s potent and, like so much this season, helps humanize a larger than life figure like Elizabeth.
What I appreciate about their story here is that it follows a certain trajectory. Philip is galavanting with his drinking buddy at all hours, doing god knows what. And it clearly affects Elizabeth. Whether she wants to admit it or not, it seems to lead her to seek a certain friendship and understanding with Porchey that suprasses his role as her friend and horse trainer. As with her actions toward Margaret a few episodes back, I’m not sure Elizabeth herself would recognize the cause of her change in course, but the juxtaposition suggests both she and Philip are seeking something they can’t find at home from other people, even if what they want is very different.
Somehow, Philip has the temerity to be jealous. I appreciate that his envy is what pierces the same protective shell the two have erected. This nice enough schmuck, who shares Elizabeth’s passion for horses and treats her like a friend rather than his boss, prompts Philip to act out and Elizabeht to call him on his bullshit. While a bit stagey, her declaration to Philip that it would in many ways be easier if she loved Porchey, but for good or for ill, she’s only loved him, with a dare for him to tell her the same, is a devastating moment and monologue. There and then, the real warts-and-all view of their marriage is thrown into the cold light of day for both of them, and it isn’t pretty.
Neither, frankly, is Churchill. I love Sutherland’s (and by extension, writer Peter Morgan’s) statement that most people are not good judges of themselves, because of the blindspots, conscious and unconscious, it takes a person to get through the day. Churchill wants a portrait that depicts him the way he sees himself. Sutherland wants to depict him as he is.
But through his art, he gets at certain truths about Churchill even the man himself may not see or acknowledge. The most poignant part of their verbal tet-a-tets during the sketching sessions centers on an unlikely tragedy that unites them -- the loss of a child. They correctly diagnose one another’s paintings as reflecting that loss. The difference being that Churchill was in denial. He thinks he returns to the goldfish pond near his home because of the technical challenge. Sutherland connects it to something more emotional, and Churchill, in a roundabout way, realizes that it’s connected to the death of his daughter.
It is a heartbreaking performance by John Lithgow, watching this bulldog of a man break down at the memory of a profound loss. And it ties into the central theme of this storyline. Whatever Churchill may project, there is a well of despair within him, a certain ache that goes unacknowledged but also untamed. He feels the losses he’s had, even if he won’t let himself countenance them, and it takes the piercing qualities of profound art to expose that to him.
So does the final portrait, which true to the man as he is, shows decay and frailty and suffering in a fashion that offends Winston. It gives him an accurate reflection of himself, but one he doesn’t want to be reminded of. And yet, seeing himself laid bare there, with the truth that comes from the artist’s hand, shakes him out of stupor.
He stands down as Prime Minister. He tells Elizabeth he has nothing left to teach her and gives her a sweet kiss on the forehead. He earnestly shakes the hand of the successor he was rebuking weeks earlier. He admits to his wife that he is tired and finished with it all. What is true can be denied no longer. To see ourselves as we are can be unmooring, but also spur us to take action in the light of that truth, rather than in the comfort of images and institutions we insulate ourselves with.
What takes down Winston Churchill is an artist, wielding only the truth. What takes down the Queen’s peace of mind is a humble horsman wielding only some simple warmth and basic empathy. The Prime Minister finally meets someone able to cut through his bluster and bombast, and see the wounded, aging man inside, and perhaps even grant him some much-needed rest. It is a harsh thing, but one that speaks to the power of great art to reach through to what’s real in something, however abstract its lens, much as this story does.
They took quite a risk with the audience openly switching the main focus on Churchill. It definitely worked, adding more depth to the character and like the infamous painting, bringing the final strokes to what remain the best rendition of Winston Churchill we have ever seen on tv. But what make the episode unforgettable is the amazing timing, framing and editing of the final sequence. Simply a work of art.
Wow, what an amazing episode!
John Lithgow's performance of Churchill is outstanding, sometimes while watching I forget that it's just a role he is playing. I would totally watch a spin-off just about this character. The last scene was really great. I know I repeat myself, but again I have to compliment the cinematography and soundtrack!
Definitely worth mentioning are also all the scenes between Elizabeth and Philip. Full of suspense and exceptional acting!
Denis Villeneuve is the man!
There’s only one word that came into my mind after watching it: finally.
Finally, a blockbuster that isn’t afraid to be primarily driven by drama and tension, and doesn’t undercut its own tone by throwing in a joke every 30 seconds.
Finally, a blockbuster that puts actual effort in its cinematography, and doesn’t have a bland or calculated colour palette.
Finally, a blockbuster with a story that has actual substance and themes, and doesn’t rely on intertextual references or nostalgia to create a fake sheen of depth.
Finally, a blockbuster that doesn’t pander to China by having big, loud and overblown action sequences, but relies on practical and grounded spectacle instead (it has big sand worms, you really don’t need to throw anything at the screen besides that).
Finally, a blockbuster that actually feels big, because it isn’t primarily shot in close ups, or on a sound stage.
And of course: finally, a blockbuster that isn’t a fucking prequel, sequel, or connected to an already established IP somehow.
(Yeah, I know Tenet did those things as well, but I couldn’t get into that because the characters were so flat and uninteresting).
This just checks all the boxes. An engaging story with subtext, very well set up characters, great acting (like James Gunn, Villeneuve's great at accentuating the strengths of limited actors like Dave Bautista and Jason Momoa), spectecular visuals and art design (desaturated but not in an ugly washed out way), pacing (slow but it never drags), directing, one of Hans Zimmer’s best scores: it’s all here.
I only have one real criticism: there’s too much exposition, especially in the first half.
It can occasionally hold your hand by referencing things that have already been established previously, and some scenes of characters explaining stuff to each other could’ve been conveyed more visually.
Other than that, it’s easily one of the best films of the year.
I’ve seen some people critiquing it for being incomplete, which is true, but this isn’t just a set up for a future film.
It feels like a whole meal, there are pay offs in this, and the characters progress (even if, yes, their arcs are still incomplete).
8.5/10
The final scene was perfect, with all the crew on it!!!!!
This will probably become more beloved than Dune for being a bigger, more action driven film. Personally I prefer the first film by a long shot, but there's a lot to like here. I loved Paul's new journey for this installment as it doesn't develop in the way you'd expect based on the ending of the first film. The themes of colonialism, false prophecies and religion reach a level of depth that cannot be found in other sci-fi/fantasy contemporaries like Lord of the Rings or Star Wars; this film certainly made me understand why this story is taken so seriously as a piece of literature. Despite the source material being so old, there's still something new and refreshing about it. You don't often see major Hollywood productions calling out religion as a manipulative force helping the people in power. On top of that this brilliantly subverts the concept of the hero's journey we've become accustomed to by everything that was in one way or another inspired by Dune. The acting is pretty great, Timothée does a great job at playing the transition Paul goes through. Despite his boyish looks I was sold on his performance as the leader of the Fremen. Rebecca Ferguson and Javier Bardem are also scene stealers. The visuals are once again mindblowing, in terms of set/costume design, cinematography and CGI this is as close to perfection as you could get to right now. The vision and scope of this movie are truly unmatched, which leads to some breathtaking sequences that I'll remember for a while (sandworm ride; the black/white arena fight; knife fight during the third act).
However, for all the praise I have for Dune: Part 2, I think Denis is being uncharacteristically sloppy with this film. First of all, Bautista and Butler feel like they're ripped from a different franchise altogether. Their over the top, cartoonish performances are more suited for something like Mad Max than the nuanced world of Dune. The bigger cracks start to appear when you look at the writing. The brief moments where the movie pokes fun at religious zealots through Javier Bardem's character, while funny, probably won't age very well. Like the first movie, it has a tendency to rely too much on exposition and handholding, a problem which might be worse here. I feel like a lot of the subtlety is lost in order to make the movie more normie proof, and that's quite annoying for a movie with artistic ambitions like this one. For example, there's this scene where Léa Seydoux seduces Austin Butler's character, and everything you need to know as a viewer is communicated through Butler's performance. Cut to the next scene, where Seydoux is all but looking at the camera saying "he's a psychopath, he's violent, he wants power, etc.". I just feel like compared to Villeneuve's precise work on Blade Runner 2049, he's consciously dumbing it down here. It's understandable and somewhat excusable for a complex story like Dune, but he occasionally takes it too far for my liking. Then there's the love story subplot between Chani and Paul, which almost entirely misses the mark for me. It feels rushed, there's no chemistry between the actors and some of the lines are painfully cheesy. Because of that, the emotional gutpunch their story eventually reaches during the third act did little for me. Finally, I'm a little dissatisfied with the use of sound. I loved the otherworldly score Zimmer came up with for the first Dune, however this film is so ridiculously bombastic and low-end heavy that it starts to feel like a parody of his work with Christopher Nolan. For the final action beat of the film Villeneuve cuts out the film's score, and it becomes all the more satisfying for it.
Overall, I recommend this film, however maybe temper those expectations if you're expecting a masterpiece. There's a lot to admire, but it's flawed.
6.5/10
It was everything they said it would be and then some! Supreme spectacle with otherworldly intensity. Fan first was an experience I’ll never forget. A film for the ages. Long live the fighters!
"What kind of monster evicts you using comic sans?" i really did laugh out loud lmao
I like this self-irony of Cage when choosing his latest roles. To sell the viewer a movie that mocks the cancel culture of the viewer himself. And how! Many began to forget his former self, but a little scraping and... Well, the film still lacks the crazy stuff, the real Cage I would sell dreams myself
Literally getting retro vibes while watching this. modern concept with traditional storytelling. much room for improvement in portraying the protagonist as the protagonist. I don't consider this as a comedy movie & honestly I don't know why others would rate this as a comedy movie. you can call it a light horror movie with elements of surprises at every turn
Was legit scared I will dream of Nicolas Cage after watching this movie Enjoyed it!
Wow, that was weird. Looks and feels so bizarre and Nic Cage has the perfect face for the role. His acting was phenomenal too, I think one of his best performances.
[8.1/10] I’m a fan of films and television shows where a person says one thing but thinks another. The distance between the image they project, and what they feel in their hearts, is the stuff that great character moments are made of.
Which is why the most fascinating character in this for me is the former King Edward. He writes to his wife about how dreadful London is and he can’t wait to get back, but he seems to cherish his last days with his mother. He desires the circus of it all, but blanches at being effectively disinvited from the coronation. He pokes fun at the coronation and its object to a room full of party guests, but he also looks on with what is plainly a certain wistfulness and envy.
I don’t know anywhere near enough to speak to what the real Edward thought and felt. But what I like about this depiction is the sense that I don’t think this character would do anything different. I think his love for Wallis is genuine. I think his offense at the disrespect she receives is legitimate. And I think given the chance to do it all over again, he would make the same choice.
But I also think there’s a sense in which he wishes it didn't have to be this way, that he looks upon the life that might have been hiss, the crown that might have been his, and laments that he ever had to choose between it and her, even if he’d still pick her. To be raised to be king, to have imagined your whole life that this would be your coronation, to still sit in awe of the magic of the ceremony and the institution it represents, as you’re held at arm's length from it, would be a harrowing sort of thing.
When I started The Crown, the last person I expected to feel sympathy for was King Edward. And I’m not exactly crying tears for the real life person. But for this character, diminished in dignity to hawk soap and suits for the papers, denied even a seat at the table at what was once his by right, compelled to pretend not to be homesick when he is acutely reminded of both what he’s gained and what he’s lost, it all makes for a surprisingly sympathetic and humanized figure.
He also makes for the perfect contrast, once again, to the Queen Elizabeth and how she treats her spouse. For Edward, the weight of sacrifice is felt because these things clearly mean something to him and he still would cast it all aside for Wallis. For her part, Elizabeth makes great stands for Philip, insisting that they buck years of Norfolk family tradition so he can chair the coronation committee and wanting him to have tremendous leeway. But in essence, she makes clear to him that though she is both a spouse and a monarch, the crown must come first. They may be equal partners, but he must still kneel to her.
I admire the show’s willingness to make the juxtaposition. This situation is awkward, but there seems to be genuine love in both royal couples at issue. And yet, Edward does what is necessary to defend the dignity and honor of his wife, and Elizabeth does what she must to defend the dignity and honor of her station. The situations are different. The gender dynamics are different. But it demonstrates, in canny terms, what both Windsors are sacrificing to hold onto what they have, and what’s most important to each of them.
Apart from the comparison, I get a kick out of Phiip’s reforming zeal as an organizer. His comments about modernizing and opening up the coronation, particularly given the optics at a time of austerity, feel prescient in the here and now after we've just seen similar concerns raised about the coronation of King Charles. The advent of television, the democratizing of the ceremony, the point about someone who survived a revolution not wanting a monarch to seem aloof and disconnected from her people all carry the right resonance, adding a philosophical weight to what is, at least in part, a marital dispute as much as it is one of principle.
The coronation itself is The Crown’s best set piece yet. I love the parallels in the opening scene and the near-closing one, where a young Elizabeth helping her father practice before his coronation, and her mirroring the same words and gestures in hers, helps demonstrate the weight of history and the legacy of a loved one that both loom large in this momentous occasion. Elizabeth doesn’t get as much to do here as she has in some episodes (it’s halfway Edward's hour), and yet this is some of the best acting from Claire Foy. The look in her eyes as the magnitude of what she’s succumbing to lands with full force is remarkable, as is the same as the nerves and anxieties and pressure coalesce in the appointment, the kneeing, the kiss from a husband who is also a subject. The nonverbal performance from Foy in particular is superb.
The presentation is the most lavish and loving in the show thus far, aided by the arch but sincere commentary from Edward a channel away. The performance is superb there too with great work from Alex Jennings elucidating the layers between what Edward says and what he feels. But the writing is there to match.
I have no great love for the monarchy or the pomp and circumstance that comes with it. Still, Edward d(and the writers) speak eloquently of the function these events serve. There is, in fact, a magic from the intrigue, the pageantry, the ritual, that turns the utterly ordinary into the elevated and seemingly divine. It is these trappings, as much as any breeding or heritage, that conveys the sense of someone and something greater. King Groge describes it as being reborn, changed, and through Edward’s words and Elizabeth’s looks you believe it, even if it comes with a sense of “for better or worse” rather than the grand ascension it’s intended as.
In the end, I’m not sure who’s happier. Edward is practically excommunicated from his homeland and his family, but he has the love of his life to comfort him. Elizabeth is the recipient of that magic and the keeper of the flame, but seems overwhelmed by a responsibility that seems to come at the expense of her relationship with her husband. If I were to guess, I’d say both feel they made the right choice, but that no matter what they project in public, in private moments, each can’t help but wonder how things might be different, how their lives might be changed, if each could keep grasp of what the other has,
"If it's not yours, whose is it?" India's, maybe?
Now, there's a true politician for you. First you're part of the reason that causes the crisis, then you ride in and present yourself as the saviour and crisis handler. Works until this day.
Great movie! Somewhat reminded me of the Vietnam war. USA attacks uses its military power and murders innocents in Asia.
I'm half tempted to give this full marks just for daring to play Radiohead's Everything in Its Right Place during your typical military in dropship scene. Anyway my boy Gareth knocked out another cracking piece of scifi. You really don't mind when a director takes a few years off and comes back with something like this. There's certainly a fair amount of Rogue One, Blade Runner and Terminator in the mix, the latter of which he takes the Judgement Day plot and turns it on its head defying expectations where I assumed it was going just due to the tropes of the genre.
There's also a lot of stuff on screen for 80mill in comparison to other recent effects heavy films. Gets you wondering if budgets elsewhere escalate to $200 mill mark due to talent demands or that something like this has less behind the scenes VFX artists but take longer to bake? I dunno. Either way, check it out. The trailer gives too much away (as always my opinion) however there's plenty more that isn't shown.
NB. Watch out for the Scarif Easter egg
Francine, I havent been entirely honest with you
LOL Roger, you are insane!
Wow...Everybody is wrong about this one. Disliked by many in my mutuals, I kept putting this one off but I am just so impressed. Bradley Cooper absolutely nails it.
This shit so good that it made me grab my notepad and I ended up doing two pages of scribbles about how the film's portrayal of a man's ego made me view life.
This feels like a child of Scorsese which makes the fact Marty co-produced this even cooler. I feel sorry for people who genuinely think this is Oscar-bait.
Bradley, please stay in the director's chair. You are a force.
Maestro is a magnificent film. It is not just a story of Leonard Bernstein's life but rather a story about human life. I found myself surprised by the emotions it inspired. It is a beautiful picture with standout performances. Bravo Bradley Cooper.
find you someone with whom you have as much chemistry as harrison ford and sean connery have together
After two successful big-budget starring vehicles, we finally get an origin story for Indiana Jones. Of course, that's largely to facilitate the addition of a new supporting character (Sean Connery in a wonderful casting as Indy's long lost father, who we'll get to in just a moment) but that extra layer of nostalgia, wrapped around a property that's deeply nostalgic in the first place, manages to avoid numerous pitfalls and serve as an effective prologue. River Phoenix performs especially well as the young Jones, expertly wearing Harrison Ford's mannerisms throughout the long callback, and somewhere along the way we get a worthwhile genesis for the grown-up version's affinity for leather jackets and fedoras.
Once the story jumps ahead to a more familiar era (if not precisely the present), it's full speed ahead on the hunt for the mythical holy grail, a lifelong obsession for the father and recent fixation of the third reich. Soon reunited, both Jones boys dance through precarious situations and near-misses in the history books, a full battalion of Nazi soldiers nipping at their heels, before drawing close to the prize. Ford and Connery are dynamic together, boiling down a complicated father-son relationship to a series of glares, grins and grunts. They alternate between bickering testily and slapping each other on the back in camaraderie, and I honestly can't say which makes for a more entertaining watch. There's depth, too, a stinging blend of long-simmering resentment and earnest care for one another, which often bubbles up just in time to enhance the plot's heaviest moments.
Naturally, it simply wouldn't be an Indiana Jones movie without big action sets (in which the series somehow manages to one-up itself yet again) or boatloads of witty retorts and punchy one-liners, and those two essential elements combine to give the film a loose, fun-loving quality without compromising any of the more serious moments. All this without going too far over the top, as we saw more than once in the mildly underwhelming Temple of Doom and borderline-disastrous Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. It's well-written and purposeful, successfully intense and humorous, an in-the-wheelhouse serial-styled adventure that spans several continents before confronting superstition and cracking several dusty, life-threatening riddles on the path to a biblical treasure. Indy probably should've left well-enough alone, because this chapter is essentially impossible to top.
