Shin megami

VIP

5

Superbad wasn't super bad but for me it wasn't super awesome has I thought it would be. It's definitely a very good and smart teenage film, entertaining and funny but not as funny as I thought. It has it's moments.

Jonah Hill and Michael Cera always make me laugh a lot in every film I see with both of them but in this film the times that they made me laugh were very few. The absolutely hilarious parts of the film were the ones involving McLovin and those irresponsible cops Officer Slater and Officer Michaels. Christopher Mintz-Plasse, Seth Rogen and Bill Hader were so so good! I couldn't stop laughing with those three. Their scenes are the best thing of the film.

Despite the whole unrealistic situations the film knew how to manage them well, but some of the aspects about puberty comedies were just more of the same that we are already used to see in films of this genre.

Overall, I had a great time watching it. I thought that I would give it five stars but I have to stick just with four, which is a pretty good note for a good comedy with an heartwarming touch like this one.

While the trailers and adverts might make this seem like it's a happy romp, it's not. Believe me it's not. This, in my opinion, is a very sad film. It took me by surprised me and made me remember aspects of my childhood I don't normally keep at the forefront of my mind. This is despite the comedy and the happy joy-joy attitude seen for about 50% of the film. I really related to Riley, so much so that I actually cried quite a bit at the theatre. I felt a bit embarrassed but I really couldn't help it. It wasn't the acts in the film that made me sad, it was the explanation afterwards. Riley's motivations. Hearing it in words after seeing everything broke me. A Disney film hasn't made me cry like that ever.

You absolutely have to see Inside Out. But, don't go into it looking for it to put a smile on your face after a bad day. It's a really emotional ride. However, the message in the end is really worth it. It's a message that we should really get across to the children of today. I wish the message being put forward by this movie was being aimed at children back when I was a kid. It would have really helped. It would have indeed.

hum...
I might be biased but I thought this was a complete waste of my time !
YES this is beautiful, YES there is some action and YES the aliens (and gory scenes) are great in this movie, but well...
I'm not spoiling there but : how can a crew responsible for 2000+ lives in a colony mission be so incompetent ?
I know the whole point of Alien films is to mix human errors and bad luck to make bad times, but this is just too much !
Overall, the scenario was quite hollow.

I'll be spoiling a bit from now on :

really the only enjoyable moments were brought by the Synthetic stranded on the planet, this old generation David who served Dr Shaw was the only one bringing a bit of character depth, in the end I only wished he would "win" and was pleased to see that that's what happened.
The complete lack of responsibility from the crew was numbing : who would risk losing a spacecraft with thousands of souls onboard waiting to create a colony in a raging storm just to hope to have a contact with his half ? Who would again risk all colonists' lives and decades of preparations just to visit a planet they barely know anything of, just because they received a lost transmission of some singing ?
I know these are classic ways to bring this kind of situation in films, but the way it was brought was not subtle in the least.
In the end, while it was pretty clear for me that they had returned with the wrong David, this was the only really enjoyable moment.

Again, I'm encouraging everyone reading me to see for themselves and make their opinion, but for me this was a miss.

I don't think I have ever been in love with a movie, like I'm in love with La La Land. From the first few seconds, till the very end. This movie had me and didn't let go. My english vocabulary is not good enough to express my love, heck, my dutch vocabulary is not good enough to express it. This movie is everything.

It is beautiful, happy, magical, romantic and I could go on for a little while longer but I won't. I wasn't expecting it to be this musical-y, but I mean, I love musicals so I'm not complaining. I think this is a great "musical" because there isn't non stop singing, so people who don't like musicals might like this one because it's more "subtle". I can only imagine how much practice went into all those dance routines and don't get me started on the impressive piano skills Ryan Gosling showed us.

Something that really impressed me as well was the way they filmed everything. It's a very creative and different way, which I really enjoyed and think makes this movie a great inspiration for those who love film and camerawork themselves. The build up and flashbacks and stuff were really cool as well. Yea I really enjoyed that. Also, the storyline, which does so much for a movie, was so great.

This is normally the part were I talk about the actors, but seeing that there were mainly only two actors and they were both amazing (I do think tho, that Ryan Gosling his character wasn't a very challenging one for him because we have seen him in roles like these before. Mixing it up with all the dancing, singing en piano playing though, you got something quite different and I loved it), I'm going to skip this part and say that you should watch this movie, do nothing more, just watch it, enjoyed it and love it.

[7.9/10] We have so many stories about the burden of being the chosen one. Everything from Harry Potter to Buffy Summers to Avatar Aang delves into the burden of carrying the world on your shoulder as the fabled champion. It’s a good thing, to humanize those fighting against a supernatural evil, make them recognizably human despite their heroic poses and incredible gifts.

But Encanto explores something rarer -- the burden of not being the special one, of feeling like you have something to give the world even if you haven’t been blessed by the divine or fate or random chance with the abilities of your fellow men and women. The movie celebrates the self-made miracles that follow in the wake of those individuals, who likewise struggle with self-doubt and certain hurts, but who also do the hard work of making things better without the magical boosts the chosen ones have in tow.

The center of the story is a young woman named Mirabel, the lone powerless member of the magical Madrigal family. Since her abuela first discovered the titular “encanto” (or enchantment), every Madrigal child received a wonderful “special gift” when they came of age. It could be super-hearing or the ability to speak to animals or even the power of prophecy. But whatever the gift, the family uses their collective talents to help build and protect their town.

The film is, effectively, a tug of war between Mirabel, who feels left out of the family due to the encanto mysteriously skipping her, and her grandmother, who is fiercely devoted to holding the family, the miracle, and the home and town both fuel, together at any cost. Mirabel labors to do good, to contribute, despite being the lone non-magical Madrigal under their roof. And Abuela Alma pressures everyone in the family, including herself, to use their powers to the peak of their potential in order to be worthy of the mysterious gifts they’ve received.

It’s a potent metaphor for the story of so many immigrant families. The older generation is acutely aware of the sacrifices necessary to scrape together what their family has, so well-meaning parents and older relatives push their progeny to climb higher, do better, to hold onto it and be worthy of their blessings. The younger generations, in turn, can mean well but crack under that pressure, feeling as though they’re not good enough or that if they stumble, even a little, they’ll be letting “the family” down. The resolution of those two sides, the harmony it finds in intergenerational understanding, is Encanto’s greatest strength.

But hey, the pure aesthetics and artistry of the presentation aren’t bad either! The family dynamics Encanto deploys are universal, but it’s a devotedly Colombian movie. Along with other recent Disney animated films, that cultural specificity gives it a greater flavor and a rich tradition to pull from when filling in the corners of its world. The colors, architecture, flora, fauna, food, and dance all have a distinctive flair, which make the movie an inviting and enervating experience.

To that end, the studios’ animators continue to outdo themselves. There’s an incredible amount of expression in the movements of Mirabel and her family, whether they’re salsaing or arguing or heaving donkeys around. In both traditional music numbers set within the heightened (and radiant) reality of the film, and in more impressionistic numbers with fantastical representations of the characters’ wishes and anxieties, the directors and animators catch the eye with fabulous movements and inventive imagery. As pure visual expression, the movie wows.

The same goes for the music. With original songs from Lin-Manuel Miranda, there’s an almost effortless sense of high quality melody and verse at play. Miranda’s trademarks, with fast-talking verbiage and a cacophony of parts stacked on top of one another, return here with the composer’s usual alacrity. But so too does his ability to stir the soul, in inspirational tunes and sentiments that could come off saccharine were the craft not so good and the harmonies not so piercing. The artist remains Disney’s cheat code, with songs that soar nearly as well as those in the Miranda-assisted Moana.

That film scans as Encanto’s closest predecessor, another tale of a young woman finding her place in the hierarchy of her family and village, grappling with how she differs from expectations. The film pulls from other pieces of Disney history, with a second act sequence that evokes the Cave of Wonders escape from Aladdin, and a delightful living house character that feels of a piece with Beauty and the Beast. But it’s Moana, with its similar musical stylings, comparable visual flair, and lack of a villain in favor of reconciliation and self-actualization, that proves the closest analogue.

And yet, in its own way, Moana is also a chosen one story, while Encanto marks new territory for the House of Mouse, in exploring how those less “burdened by glory” can still make the grandest contributions. In the end, Mirabel not only unravels the mystery (more or less) of what her missing uncle Bruno prophesied, but discovers that the family members she envied for their abilities struggle just as much as she does to live up to expectations, in a way that went unseen by their abuela. It reconnects her with the family members she bristled with or otherwise felt apart from.

More than that, though, when the miracle does fail, when the family home does crumble, when the town they support does crack, it’s Mirabel who gives everyone the strength to rebuild it, magic or no magic. In the absence of those gifts, she learned to be strong without it, to rely on herself, on hard work and empathy, to make the difference, which turns out to be exactly what the family needs. The town, rather than turning on the Madrigal, comes to help in the effort, completing the “We are the ones we’ve been waiting for” sensibility of the fable.

In the effort, Abuela Alma recognizes that Mirabel is the miracle, that her children and grandchildren matter far more as who they are than the gifts that they bear. It’s a lovely, life-affirming sentiment, where both generations truly see one another and recognize both their mutual struggles and the good intentions behind them.

The Madrigal family that reunites under a new banner is a slightly scrappier one, falling short of the standards of perfection both chosen ones and immigrant families hold themselves to. But it is also one which is more whole and full of acceptance, where all of the cousins and kin are allowed to relax and express themselves, where those who remain unblessed by the supernatural or fated still find ways to be extraordinary.

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

Before explaining why I liked this movie, I'd like to point out that the main idea of the movie is NOT that you need find your purpose to have a happy life. It's the exact opposite! I'm not saying this just to be a professor, but because it's really important and that's why I loved the film so much. You don't need to be fixated about something to find a meaning in your life. You need to savour it and learn to enjoy the little moments instead of waiting for something big to happen to reach happiness. It's so profound and refreshing. A movie just about a guy waiting for his big moment and feeling fulfilled after having reached it would have been dull, boring, trite and most of all wrong, like pretty much all "self-help" advices.
Instead the opposite idea is presented and if you just pay attention to the dialogues -and the story, really- you'll understand what I mean and most importantly what you might apply to make your everyday life better.
But back to the movie I've got to say I almost cried as the end was approaching as much as I was going to turn off the tv when the movie started. The whole initial setting reminded me too much of Inside Out, a film I quite disliked, so I was worried it was a copy of it (it kind of is in the beginning). But luckily the second half steered away from it and developed in one of the most moving film I've seen in a long time. Undoubtedly one of Pixar's best.

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

"I do worry sometimes I might just be entertaining myself while staving off the inevitable."

The Banshees of Inisherin is one of the saddest breakup movies since Marriage Story. Well...in the film, they are not a romantic couple, but Padraic (Colin Farrell) and Colm (Brendan Gleeson) were good friends, until one day their friendship ends abruptly, just because Colm decides that despite there being no bad blood between them, he does not like him anymore. The reason is: you are dull. In some ways, friendships are like relationships; it starts with the strong bonds you form with each other until that feeling towards them is not the same, and you no longer like/love them anymore.

I mean, everything was fine yesterday.

A strange occurrence that is not explainable but does happen. I believe it starts when one person changes while the other doesn’t. In the movie, Colm is a wise and articulated older man with an artistic ambition that he never acted on and never stopped to think about getting older. Living on a small remote island off the west coast of Ireland, where everybody is freaking boring and gossiping little bitches who love to stick their noses in other people's business and drama, because there is nothing else to do on the island. The movie does a fantastic job of giving you the impression that living on this rock slowly kills you on the inside. While being a supporting character, this is the dilemma with Colm. He does the same thing every day with his ex-friend, going to the pub at two pm and talking endlessly about meaningless crap and nonsense, and who knows what else happens the rest of the day, which is not that interesting, I assume.

The end of their friendship is hard to watch because it leaves the audience with everlasting pain. Brendan Gleeson is remarkable as the desperate and often cold Colm.

Despite what film Twitter tries to tell you, Martin McDonagh has yet to make a bad movie. In the same vein as Martin Scorsese and Quentin Tarantino, whenever McDonagh makes a new movie, I am 100% there. Every movie this guy has made has been brilliant, and Banshees is no different. A dark comedy at its finest cause you know when things go so wrong to the point it gets funny. Well, Martin McDonagh's movies are like that.

The writing is superb and has plenty of dry humour. The film-making is not anything grand or flashy; some comment on how stagy it is, but I do not feel it needs to be a technical marvel. With that said, there are some beautiful shots of the landscape of Ireland.

Comparing his work in The Batman early this year and this movie proves that Colin Farrell is one of the finest working actors. His character Pádraic Súilleabháin is a dim-minded, polite man who, unlike Colm, has found peace and happiness in his daily life. Farrell brings a child-like vulnerability to the character, where everything he does or says can be funny and depressing. His character arc is incredibly heart-rending.

Pádraic sister, played by Kerry Cordon, another standout performance, and some of her line delivery has implanted itself in my head. Her character Siobhan is trying to find the ultimate purpose in her life, echoing the problems that Colm is facing, which the two get along like a house on fire.

Barry Keoghan plays Dominic, and out of all the characters in the story, he lives the worst life under his abusive father. Keoghan continues to be an excellent actor who is on a winning streak. The character of Dominic is a playful and childish man, but the tragedy of the character is that he is lost in this life and has nowhere to call home, often appearing at the most random of places during odd times.

The score from Carter Burwell immerses you in this story and contributes to the stunning visuals.

Overall rating: On paper, a simple concept of a friendship breaking up, but its approach to mental illness, kindness, art, masculinity, and our inevitable death was strikingly profound. At times, it felt like Shakespeare mixed with the Brothers Grim tale.

It is one of the best movies of 2022.

LIFF33 2019 #2

Time to spill the beans…’The Lighthouse’ is a masterpiece! I loved loved loved loved it! I loved every minute of it. One of my favorite movies of 2019 and I honestly don’t think anything can top it. A slow descent into madness that creeps into your subconscious and won’t be leaving anytime soon.
From the very first frame, I immediately knew this was going to be special. I was hooked throughout until the end credits.

Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson both deliver career defining performances. They play off each others insanity beautifully. I could tell just from the accents and dialect that plenty of homework went into making an authentic portrayal of the time.

Robert Pattinson is fantastic as a quiet and private lighthouse keeper that witness the madness slowly unfolding, but also feeds the audiences curiosity on revealing the strange happenings on the island. Pattinson is a chameleon when it comes to portraying characters.

Willem Dafoe, on the other hand, was mesmerizing as the old sea dog captain with a love for farting. His long and insane monologues are the main highlights, because it was so electrifying to watch it was hard not be captivated. He’s strict and often unpredictable, but once you see it, you won’t forget it.

I hope Robert Eggers continues making horror movies in the future, because right now he’s one of the best living directors working today. The slow-burn tension and lack of conventional scares seems to be his trademark so far. Every choice he made was so carefully thought out and the results is masterful. According to Eggers, they actually built a lighthouse from scratch and everything we see, including the weather, is genuine. Even if some tricky was used, it was so seamless I couldn’t tell what was fake.

I loved how the movie was shot; the dim black-and-white with the claustrophobic aspect ratio, giving it the appearance of a silent film born like a German expressionism - something you would’ve mistaken for a 1920/30’s horror folklore. Perfectly captures the time period and the overall dread. You really do feel cut off from the outside world and abandoned on this spectral-like island, and this black sheet of cloud strongly looming over the two men. A dark force in all directions, unseen but very eerie. The cold and heartless weather is a character itself. A big bully with salty intentions.

I adored the use of lighting through out, as the only light source is either natural light during daytime or candle lit lanterns, which cast many shadows that adds to the unease. There’s some gorgeous looking cinematography on display here. Seriously, even as am writing this right now I can memorize every single frame of this strange nightmare of a film. Absolutely breathtaking.

While the movie is mainly horror, but there is comedy sprinkled throughout that was actually pretty hilarious. Everything from Dafoe farting and some creative insults the characters would often spit at each other, which would later expand into long monologues that I sat back and watch in awe with a stupid grin on my face, because how something so silly can be so poetic. Never have I seen a movie that perfectly balances more than one genre so fluently. You can laugh at the moments where it’s suppose to be funny, but also take it seriously whenever it’s suppose to be taken seriously, which is sometimes all in one scene. The writing from Eggers is so excellent.

After only one viewing there was a lot I could easily dissect in terms of interpretation. There's masculinity and Greek mythology imagery that demonstrates a striking sense of power. There’s also a certain idea of sexuality being a sacred thing and the frustration it may bring. Or maybe it’s just a simple story about two guys on a rock getting drunk and then getting even drunker while holding each other until they drift off to sleep.

Overall rating: One of the best looking horror comedies of 2019.

This was a great take on a dark past, bringing comedy and satire to the forefront, and I absolutely loved it! While being comedic, there are many emotional parts to the film, which I was rather surprised to see. One moment you're laughing hard, the next you're on the edge of balling your eyes out. I never would have expected to see a film quite like this done on Nazi Germany, it was very well made.

With this being Roman's first-ever professional acting job, I was incredibly impressed - he is awesome, and I certainly look forward to his next project(s). He was able to capture the rollercoaster of emotions, thoughts and feelings that may be going through a child growing up in Nazi Germany—who is being told who is okay and who is not—with ease. Taika never fails to please me with his work, and Stephen is a very funny actor. The way that Hitler was mocked through Taika really adds into the thought that not everyone is as strong as they are said to be. Thomasin brings in lots of emotion, and Roman just blows the film out of the park.

Seeing it for my 7th time, I think I'd probably upgrade this from one of the best films of 2019 to one of the best films of the decade.

I shall certainly be seeing this several more times, and I definitely recommend it.

Home Alone is a perfect movie, not in the sense that there is zero room for improvement or it's the greatest artistic achievement in human history, but in that it does what it sets out to do in a nigh-flawless fashion. It is impeccably paced, shot, and edited. It has the right balance of escapist fantasy, relatable family drama, humor, heart, and even slapstick comedy to keep the film lively without making it a piece of fluff. And miraculously, despite a cast full of ringers like Catherine O’Hara and Joe Pesci, the whole thing hinges on the acting talents of a nine-year-old boy who pulls it off with flying colors.

Because as great as O’Hara is as the mother desperate to get back to her son, as amusing as Pesci and Daniel Stern are as a pair of robbers who get more than they bargained for, as hilarious as the inimitable John Candy (who steals the show with less than five minutes of screen time) is as a polka-playing good Samaritan, Home Alone is, first and foremost, a story about Kevin McCallister, and even at that tender age, Culkin (with a huge assist from writer John Hughes and director Chris Columbus) sells that story like a champ.

That’s part of why Home Alone works so perfectly as a family movie that plays with both kids and adults. As a child, the more outsized elements of the story loom large. The iconic scenes of Kevin tormenting his pursuers offer a spate of perfectly deployed slapstick, worthy of Looney Tunes or The Three Stooges and apt to elicit any number of giggles from the younger members of the audience. By the same token, there’s an escapist fantasy for kids in the early part of the film, where Kevin jumps on the bed, eats junk, and “watches rubbish” without anyone being able to tell him otherwise. There is an incredible sense of fun to these scenes, whether it’s the ACME-inspired antics and great physical performances of the “Wet Bandits” or Kevin living out the immediate joy of his wish to be family-free.

But what makes the film more than just an insubstantial flight of fancy is the way it mixes that holiday mirth with enough heft, enough of the downside of that wish and a stealthily nuanced depiction of a young child maturing in both his ability to take care of himself and his understanding of the world.

When we meet Kevin in the film’s frenetic opening sequence, showing an entire household abuzz with cousins and uncles all in a state of pre-travel frenzy, Kevin cannot even pack his own suitcase. There’s recurring jabs from his siblings and cousins that his mom has to do everything for him. Over the course of the film, when pressed into service by being the all to his lonesome, Kevin becomes a surprisingly self-sufficient little boy. When not smothered by a score of other siblings, he shows a surprising resourcefulness, proving himself able to go to the store, do laundry, and even leave out cookies for Santa Claus when the time arrives. This culminates in the cornucopia of traps Kevin sets for the robbers, proving that he is even capable of defending his house from those who would do his family harm.

In the process, Kevin overcomes a number of his fears, which provides another thematic throughline for the film. Chris Columbus and Director of Photography Julio Macat help this part of the story tremendously by the way a series of normal things are made frightening by shooting them from Kevin’s perspective. From the low shot on the furnace in the basement as it seems to taunt and beckon Kevin while he’s doing laundry, to the scene in the store where Old Man Marley is introduced only by his big black boots, seeming to glower down at Kevin from high above, Macat’s camera keeps us inside Kevin’s head, seeing the terror in these otherwise quotidian interactions. That cinches Kevin’s transition when he tells the furnace not to bother – we understand what he’s overcoming.

The heart of the movie, however, comes through in the scene where he conquers his other big fear – his scary looking next door neighbor, whom his brother described as a secret murderer the cops couldn’t catch. When Kevin runs into him at church, he discovers that Marley isn’t some serial ghoul, but rather a kindly old man who offers him a bit of solace and comfort in a time of need.

It’s an incredibly well-written scene, bolstered by the stellar performance of Roberts Blossom as Marley and Culkin playing Kevin at his most precocious and worldly. Blossom sells the utter warmth and humanity of Blossom behind his icy visage. His sitting next to Kevin as a friendly presence, telling a small part of his life story, and speaking to the lad as something approaching an equal provides a big leap for the film’s protagonist. It’s part of that maturation process, the realization that he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, that he can’t necessarily trust his brother’s accounts, and that the people who seem the most unnerving can be the people you want in your hour of need. In one scene, Old Man Marley goes from being the film’s great threat to being its heart.

And he ties into the other big motif running through the film – an appreciation of one’s family. What could easily be a trite Hallmark card of a message from the movie has real force from the way the lesson is delivered. When Kevin wishes he had no family, the film helps us understand why, putting him in that relatable little kid situation of causing a scene, feeling you were goaded into it, and that nobody takes treats you nicely or appreciates you. And then when his wish comes true, it takes some time to let the audience, and Kevin, revel in his newfound freedom. But it also show’s Kevin slowly but surely realizing that he misses them, and that as much as they drive him nuts sometimes, having them back is what he really wants for Christmas.

That’s why the scene and story of Old Man Marley’s estrangement with his son is so important. It’s center on the idea that the issues Kevin is dealing with – fear, family discontent, loneliness around the holidays – are not unique to him or his tender age, but are universal obstacles that people of all ages confront at various points in their life. It’s a sign of Kevin’s broadening perspective, the way he’s being changed by this experience and learns that it’s possible to love your family even when you’re angry with them.

It’s also his realization that even in those impulsive moments, whether you’re an old man or a little boy, that you make grand declarations about not wanting to be a part of your family anymore, you may soon find yourself regretting it, yearning for the thing you were so ready to give up. Kevin starts to understand this in Home Alone, and it’s why his sincere plea to one of Santa’s “messengers” (who amusingly offers him tic tacs and can’t get his car started) to bring his family back has weight and meaning.

All of this is able to come together so well because so many of the technical, or less showy parts of the film are all done extraordinarily well. John Williams’s score expertly matches the mood of the film at every turn, whether he’s playing yuletide pop classics or an orchestral score that fits a grand escape or moment of tension. The writing has a clockwork quality to it. Hughes’s script accounts for the circumstances in which a nine-year-old would left alone by himself, unable to be contacted by his parents or the authorities in a nicely plausible fashion, and he constructs a series of events in which Kevin believes he wished his family away and then wished them back in a way that is equally convincing for the kid and the viewer.

And the film is shot and edited superbly, with amusing cuts like Kevin calling out for his mother with an immediate smash cut to a roaring airplane, or the frenzied fashion in which the McCallisters are depicted racing through the airport. Every part of this film works in sync, to deliver a visually exciting, narratively sound work that lets its humor, story, and message, land without a hint of friction.

So when we reach the end of the film and see Kevin’s reunion with his family, and Old Man Marley’s reunion with his, both moments feel earned. Chris Columbus tells a nigh-wordless story in the final scene, with O’Hara’s Kate McCallister silently marveling at how great the house looks and Kevin offering an expression of reluctance, one that suggests he might still be holding onto the anger he unleashed at this mother the last time they were face to face, before quickly sliding into a smile and running to embrace her. Their expressions tell the story, of the way both mother and child now see each other differently on this Christmas Day. The same goes for the expression of gratitude, of near-tearful camaraderie, between Kevin and Old Man Marley as Kevin witnesses his new friends’ reunion with a family of his own. Everyone here has grown; everyone has taken chances despite their fears, and come out better for it.

Throughout all of this, Home Alone manages to be cute, sweet, thrilling, funny, sharp, clever, and hopeful. For films set alone the holiday, it’s all too easy to lean into maudlin sentiment or cloying comedy, but Hughes’s and Columbus’s collaboration produced a film that manages to be nimble and amusing from start to finish, with enough meaning and mirth in it to make the story told feel as important as it is small. Home Alone tells the tale of a young man learning that despite his fear, his inexperience, and his familial resentments, he’s ready to take his first step into adulthood, and finds in the process that what he needs most are the people he was afraid of or wanted to wish away.

"If my best friend hides his farts from me then what else is he hiding from me, and why does that make me feel so alone?"

Honestly, I am just glad a movie like Swiss Army Man exists.

Coming from the directors of the "Turn Down for What" music video comes one of the weirdest films I have ever seen in my entire life. The film opens with Hank (Dano), attempting to hang himself on a stranded island, but instead ens up finding Manny's (Radcliffe) deceased corpse wash ashore. After this, Hank discovers Manny is not only just alive, but he has an array of unexplained supernatural abilities, including an "erection compass" (I shit you not), extreme flatulence, super human strength, and even more.

The film's premise is so bizarre, but it constantly manages to be relatable, no matter how crazy the movie continues to get. The film feels rewarding as you watch it, and not just based on a gimmick to show a bunch of dumb stuff happen on screen for 90 minutes. The film has an apparent purpose, and thats what makes it stand out; Beneath all the insanity, it has a lot of heart.

The cinematography is beautiful, and coupled with the score, there are many scenes in this movie which are absolutely serene

Its well acted, its genuinely hilarious, and it really will make you think at times - which was a pleasant surprise, to be honest. My only gripe with the film is that the third act (the last twenty minutes to be specific) drags on too long and the momentum is somewhat lost by the time the credits roll by.

All in all, Swiss Army Man is an extremely enjoyable film, and one that truly is memorable, especially in a time when we're constantly being plagued by sequels and unnecessary reboots.

Adored this movie. Solid performances, amazing screenplay, and McDonagh’s most gorgeous looking film to date. All of the actors were fantastic in this. This has to be my favorite film of the year.

One of my favorite moments of the film was Siobhan correcting Colm about Mozart. It shows that Colm was not as smart as he appeared to be, and cracked open his wise old man facade. He was being truthful to about his reasons for tanking the friendship, but his methods for doing so are still bullshit. He is wise, but also bitter and stubborn, and that so he thinks that the key to breaking his monotony is by suffering.

Colm resents Pádraic for being content with his simple life and not being concerned with having a legacy or being remembered beyond those he cares about in life. Colm, due to his frustration with his own existence, concludes that the only reason Pádraic is so content and untroubled is because he is dull and stupid.

Ironically I think Pádraic is actually Colm's muse, after each encounter with an impassioned Pádraic Colm seems to progress with his work on his magnum opus 'The Banshees of Inisherin'.

Moral of the story, in my opinion, is that men create meaningless conflict for contrived reasons and that leads to innocents being hurt (kind of like a civil war).

An out of the box character driven movie with amazing performances all over. The movie is carried by the philosophical debate about (the hypocrisy of) how society is raising and viewing kids, so for the ones not interested in some deeper themes this movie will fall flat or could even be misunderstood. It is not so much a critique on society as it is thought provoking, and you might end up somewhere in the middle of the two positions of the argument. You could argue both against and in favour of the main character (played by the always amazing Viggo Mortensen) where every character in this movie has been written and portrayed as realistic as they can be.
At its core the movie is about parenting, education and the way society places itself superior to the outcast, and how the outcast always has to fight these conformist systems. Since (western) education and way of life has almost become a religion in itself, it isn't easy to live in (or raise your kids in) when you disagree. Something this movie illustrates the best in its more extreme moments.

Its runtime is a bit longer than you'd think necessary, however the slow pacing of the movie makes room for the rather big cast to breathe a little and not hastily skip over the decision points or thought process of the characters. It rotates intense emotional moments with moments of light heartedness and world building. This makes time for actually taking the audience along with the thoughts of the people that have the most development.

Oh and the cinematography is surprisingly well done too. I found myself both laughing and almost tearing up in 1 single shot. The emotions are very well captured and the use of light, costumes and props is exceptional.

The end really left me wondering if the kids could fly out and become these promising people their parents set them out to be, but something tells me that it won't be that simple.

Three stories that tell anxieties, obsessions and terrors about the relationship we have with the houses that we live in spite of ourselves.

The anxiety of the social status that our home symbolizes, which affects us only as adults, so we are willing to make a pact with the devil by sacrificing everything that has an emotional value for us and that tells who we are and where we come from replacing it with what has a recognizable value also by others, only by others, a purely materialistic value conceived as luxury for its own sake, a doll's house in which we force ourselves to live, until the loss of our authentic identity cuts off the bond with our closer affections and transforms us into part of the furniture as beings devoid of soul and meaning.
The obsession with success that makes us neglect taking care of ourselves in view of the goal, where the house we live in is a mirror and a metaphor of the mind we live in, both infested with parasites that feed on our life sending it upstream and making us slowly slip into madness because of our not remedying it systematically in time but moving forward by putting superficial patches that hide the discomfort that lurks beneath the surface.
The terror of becoming aware that it is time to turn the page, abandoning the idea of ​​fulfilling the dream that has always haunted us and on which we fossilized and then marched, despite the fact that it is now evident to all those around us its impracticability. Terror that we can only overcome by accepting the surrounding reality that inexorably hampers (indeed, floods) our very hope at the foundations, making us realize that the building we have inhabited so far was not a real home for us but only a crossing of walls, inexorably discovered by a wallpaper that we would like would it to transform them into our house but that the surrounding world continues to detach from the walls, revealing the truth that we repudiate at all costs. Because our real home has always been the family bond that binds us to our friends who are housemates of our obsession, to whom until now we barely paid attention, distracted as we were by our futile intent, but who have remained close to us nevertheless, and with whom we will be able to start the journey into the uncertainty of the future towards a new home that will welcome us all. By realizing this, our obsession will turn into a healed trauma that will accompany us in the fog towards a new balance, giving us awareness of who we are and why we are back on the road.

An anthological film that exploits the setting of a house, probably cursed and inhabited in three different historical periods, the Victorian age, contemporaneity and the near future devastated by the imminent climatic catastrophe. Despite being a small manual on how to tell a horror story, based on the visual anticipation of disquiet and the slow growth of tension until the final climax, the first episode is the weakest of the trio because it is narrated by a character's pov not really involved in the choices that determine the plot but which she is only witnessing to, so that when it ends it seems that there is still something to say about this character or rather that this is a prelude to her personal story. The other two episodes are instead more successful, more centered around their characters, with the central one truly Kafkyan and surreal and the third more thoughtful and onhiric.
Animated in a technically stunning stop-motion, photographed even better with cuts of light that simulate the depth of field of open spaces, and with an attention to detail of the interiors that give credibility to the image enough to make you believe, especially in some moments of the second episode, of not looking at models but real live images, when this film ends you are left with the desire for other stories so well done.

[7.0/10] I love the texture of Paul Thomas Anderson’s movies. There are few filmmakers working today who are better at evoking a particular time or place with all the light and color of the cinema. As in the seminal Boogie Nights, Anderson again conjures an image of Southern California in the 1970s that is simultaneously nigh-magical and viscerally real at the same time. To dip into one of his cinematic worlds is a treat in and of itself.

But I don’t really like Gary Valentine. I don’t really like Alanna Kane. And while there’s something to be said for Anderson putting together a slice-of-life collage of a peculiar childhood, I don’t need to see those vignettes hung onto the spine of a dysfunctional romance between an adult and a high schooler. Licorice Pizza is nice to dip into for the craft on display in almost every moment. But it doesn’t just feel shaggy. In places, it feels pointless, and sometimes even unpleasant.

Mainly that comes down to the two main characters and the fact that Anderson and company anchor the movie around a romance I don’t really want to see blossom. I can set aside the age difference for the purposes of cinematic storytelling. Gary and Alana look and act similar in age, so while intellectually there’s a discomfort in the distance of years between them, the look and level of maturity between them seems to put them on the same level psychologically for a work of fiction.

But there’s not much to latch onto in their relationship. Gary Valentine is an operator, a schmoozer, who lures Alana more than he ever seeks an honest emotional connection with her. That’s fine! He’s fifteen! People thrice his age struggle to make honest emotional connections with people. It’s just hard to invest in a relationship founded on that, especially when Valentine calls to mind the practiced preciousness of indie movie teens like Max Fischer in Rushmore without ever having the sort of humbling and turn toward the true and earnest that Max does.

For her part, Alana is a combative jerk, ready to respond with any show of affection or interest with a proclamation of “Idiot!” or some other insult, occasionally accompanied but mild but menacing physical violence. There’s parts of her personality which are endearing -- her sense of being the black sheep and wanting to get out which put a chip on her shoulder -- but her combination of nigh-teasing friendliness paired with frequent, jarring acerbic turns makes her a hard one to warm to.

That’s life though. If there’s a defense for Licorice Pizza in that regard, it’s that as one character says toward the end of the film, “They’re all shits.” It seems meant to remind Alana that she’s met a lot of assholes over the course of the film, but for all his immaturity, Gary’s the only one who’s actually shown care and kindness to her. But it fits as something broader, where all the general jerkery that goes on between Alana and Gary can be chalked up to real people having dysfunctional friendships that are messier than those we normally see on the silver screen.

There’s two problems with that though. The first is that much of the time Licorice Pizza plays like a fantasy, or certainly a very heightened reality. Supposedly the screenplay is based on actual life events of one of Anderson’s friends as a kid. Suffice it to say, the experiences of being a child star flown out to New York for press junkets, opening a waterbed store and pinball palace, running into Hollywood bigwigs who leap flaming pits on motorcycles or threaten bystanders over gas shortages, and helping to manage a mayoral campaign seem downright fantastical, and certainly unrelatable, to those of us apparently unlucky enough not to have grown up in Encino in the 1970s.

The upshot is that there’s a disharmony between the seemingly exaggerated world that Gary and Alana occupy and the “warts and all” friendship the film wants to dramatize between them. It’s hard to take the messiness as real when it’s juxtaposed with a hodgepodge of over-the-top adventures that seem to have little tether to reality or clear cause and effect between them.

The second is that Alana and Gary suck to each other. Okay. They’re young. They’re impulsive. They’re still both works in progress. But their entire M.O. throughout the film is for one to be aloof to the other until the other one makes them jealous, which starts the cycle anew. Even if you can get past the age difference, it never feels like a healthy relationship, or one that could blossom into that, just two kids taunting and poking at each other until they decide the rest of the world they’ve been chasing sucks even more.

The key is supposed to be that when the chips are down, they look out for each other. Gary’s mistakenly arrested for murder (another bizarre interlude in the conveyor belt of disconnected episodes here), and Alana races to the station on foot to help him. Alana falls off the back of a motorcycle during a stunt, and while everyone’s eyes are on the actor who makes the jump, Gary rushes to look after her. Running is a recurring visual motif here, brought back at the end of the picture, when the two young people run in search of one another and exalt when they both finally admit their affections.

These scenes are meant to show that despite the outward prickliness and schmoozing, deep down the two truly care for one another. But it’s not enough to make up for the other ninety percent of the movie where either they play cruel games for one another or, at best, don’t seem like a healthy fit.

That wouldn’t be such a big problem if it weren’t the skeleton the rest of the movie is built around. Take away the romance, and all you have is a bunch of random vignettes that work better as individual snippets rather than part of a larger narrative. Licorice Pizza is a patchwork quilt of these standalone portraits, vaguely united by the common characters involved, but mostly an excuse to stitch together a random assortment of stories from someone’s SoCal youth without any real connective tissue or sense of build or unity between them.

And yet, I’d take many, if not most of them on their own. Anderson knows how to construct a scene, even if the broader compendium of them comes off a little wonky and misshapen. Harriet Sansom Harris nearly steals the show as an eccentric but memorable child talent agent in a one-scene wonder. Tom Waits is as garbled-yet-effervescent as ever as an old director who spurs his actor buddy to perform an impromptu stunt. And Joseph Cross offers the most touching interlude in the film, as the boyfriend of a mayoral candidate torn up over how the clash between political aspirations and their homoseuxality leaves him always having to put his needs to the side. Some of the episodes in the film go a little too over the top, but there’s something there, something worth keeping, in almost all of them.

Occasionally, that comes down to the pure craft of the moment. Anderson and co-cinematographer Michael Bauman are wizards with light. Whether it’s evoking a smoke-filled bar in low light while an old actor tells his tales, brightening the cacophony of colors of 1970s fashion and decor, or lighting Alana in silhouette from a distance, the two of them and their team evoke moods and simply present striking images which take full advantage of the medium.

At the same time, Anderson pulls off still more of his famously well-choreographed longer takes. There’s a regular sense of motion in this film, with extended shots that follow the characters as they walk down one throughway for another, capturing the energy of movement and even chaos as it stalks them around the streets of these Los Angeles neighborhoods. You may not always love the people pounding the pavement, but you will almost always feel like you’re there.

Maybe that's enough. Perhaps without the nostalgia for this time and place, it’s harder to connect with people like Gary and Alana. It’s tough to wonder why Anderosn didn’t just release a series of shorts about a grab bag of experiences in the San Fernando Valley in the 1970s, rather than smushing them all together when they don’t fit. It’s more difficult to see why we should root for a romance between two people who don’t seem to know how to be kind to one another, even if they do like each other.

But Licorice Pizza does bring you into their world, the peculiar ecosystem of eccentric Hollywood stars, child entrepreneurs, and luminous dreams that painted block after block and row after row. Wherever Anderson goes, he takes you with him, and that’s worth something, even if you’re not enamored with the fellow passengers he’s selected for the ride.

Over 30 years since its release, this is still the high watermark of the series and, indeed pretty much any adventure film. Ford is the lynchpin of the series, and unlike James Bond, it is difficult to imagine anyone else taking on this role in the future. What makes Indiana Jones works so well as a character and instantly connect with an audience (apart from being Han Solo in disguise) is his world-weariness and that he does indeed seem to be "making it up as he goes along." He makes mistakes and gets himself into trouble more often than not. The sheer pace, the reliance on practical stunts and Ford's performance here sets this film apart from some of the more ridiculous elements that mar the sequels and Karen Allen is a great foil. Every film of course has a great score from Williams, but the theme created for the Ark of the Covenant elevates the music to another level. But it is Ford that embodies Indiana Jones - the looks of relief, panic and determination that cross his face, sometimes all in one shot, is often priceless and he is the key to making this character work so well.

When coming up with the idea for this film, I imagine Nolan asking himself: can you take a Roger Moore era Bond plot, up the amount of sci-fi and dial down the camp? Yes, you can, but this isn’t exactly the way to do it.

Pros:
- I love it when directors aim big. Give me someone who tries something as ambitious as this over the average blockbuster anyday.
- Directing & cinematography, as is to be expected from a Nolan film at this point.
- Score. Especially during the opening scene and inversion stuff.
- Action sequences, especially the car chase.
- Most of the acting is solid. JDW is excellent, Robert Pattinson and Elizabeth Debicki are great.

Cons:
- This film has been edited to shit. It’s got pacing that’s all over the place, and there’s a rushed sense to it all. Scenes aren’t allowed to breathe, exposition is delivered so rapidly that you barely have any time to process it. I’m lucky to have a brain that can keep up with difficult plot mechanics, and yes, I could follow what was happening all the way through, but it all makes for a film that’s inaccessible for most people on their first watch. Unfortunately, it definitely doesn’t feel like the film that mainstream audiences are going to embrace during the time of a pandemic.
- Just like with Dunkirk, Nolan once again deliberately chooses to not flesh out his characters, resulting in a film that feels emotionally shallow. It’s very hard to connect with the film on a personal level in that regard. Take Inception, for example. Even when you strip away all the amazing stuff from that film (rotating cities, hotel fight), there’s still an emotional core about a man who’s been estranged from his kids because of what happened to his wife. There’s a reason why we want Leonardo DiCaprio to succeed at implanting this idea into Cillian Murphy’s head. Tenet has none of that. Who’s the protagonist? Who’s Robert Pattinson? What’s this agency they’re working for? We just don’t know.
- The sound mix. The dialogue just isn’t very clear for a lot of the film. Why they didn’t use ADR for some scenes (especially when people wear masks, as that’s easy to edit around) is beyond me. I honestly started to read the subtitles after the opening scene.
- Kenneth Branagh. He’s a great actor, but his hammy performance feels like it comes out of a different movie (a campy Roger Moore era Bond movie, that is)
- I found the climax to be uninspired, and a little dull.
- Minor point, but there’s some really unsubtle foreshadowing during the fight at the airport ( when you have a character unmask an inverted person offscreen, and they look surprised, who do you think it’s going to be? )

Overall, I feel like this could’ve easily been an 8 if the film was about 30 minutes longer, thereby taking its time to flesh out the characters, world and mechanics of the plot. It almost feels like WB forced Nolan to trim a lot of scenes in order to get a shorter runtime, but that’s also doubtful as WB isn’t beyond releasing movies that are way shittier at 3 hours (It: Chapter 2). Besides, he’s Christopher Nolan, so I assume he has final cut. As it stands, I just cannot recommend it.

5/10

Same with Arrival and Sicario, I didn't like this movie as much as other people. Villeneuve is a visually interesting director. The same goes for Christopher Nolan. But both have, in my opinion, the problem with emotions and characters in their movies. In Arrival we had some really bad cliché scientists, Sicario didn't have any interesting characters at all (same old "this is an evil guy, this is a good guy"-type stuff); the worst characters award goes to Inception (no Nolan discussion beyond this, I promise).

When I look at this Blade Runner version, we have the same problem as in Sicario. We have a solid bad character as in Luv (if we count in Mr. Wallace we have two, but was he even a character we cared about? In the end he didn't have much to do anyway, maybe he was in the movie just to implement the new moral system/ideology after Tyrell) and of course the good characters as in K and Deckard. When I look at the original Blade Runner, the sides of good & evil aren't nearly as distinguished as in this movie. Sure, you can say the replicants that want a longer life that threatened other people were the "bad" boys, but here they had their reasons. And in the end of the original one, even the bad ones turned human (or atleast did something we'd call humanistic). This was atleast visionary and why I like the original so much. In the new one? Just a solid, not changing bad character, whose only reason to be bad seems her loyalty to Mr. Wallace and his ideology. This is way behind the moral integrity of the original Blade Runner and mostly just another boring good vs. evil plot without any scope for moral integrity, for humans and replicants alike.

As for replicants and their moral scope, Officer K. didn't seem to even have one at all. Questioning his lifestyle or his side of ideology didn't seem to bother him at all. His character was just too focused on his "who are my parents, are my memories real or not?", so there was no room for him to really change or develop with everything that's happening as the movie continues. In the end, he's just as wise as he was in the beginning without getting somewhere. This is tragic and kinda the point, but did I feel any emotions for him? Not at all, because he wasn't an ambigiuous character to start with. It seems to me that part of the problem and why this movie was made how it is, is that Villeneuve planned from the beginning to do more Blade Runner movies and just touch some themes. So Officer K can just play the role of getting Deckard to the point he his now and in the next movie we could see ideologies crumble (or another boring good guy (Deckard) vs. bad guy (Mr. Wallace)-type story, yawn).

For me, this movie felt like a placeholder for something that could be way deeper and more focused on the philosophical, ethical or moral side of replicants story (which the original movie was). Maybe it was for the sake of more sequels to come (which would be the worst reason in my opinion, the remake and sequel trend in the last few years is just awful for cinema as a unique art form) or also to make it more accessible to more viewers (even with its slow pace, I think Blade Runner 2049 is way more accessible than the original one) Imagine the incredibly long scene with the creepy dolls or the unicorn scene from the original for your "generic" cinema viewer today. I don't think any major movie studio would approve such scenes. Which hurts cinema as an art in the end the most.

TL;DR: The original Blade Runner was a complex movie, Blade Runner 2049 is just overly complicated without getting anywhere (for me).

Watched this without expecting anything because as much as possible, I try to refuse reading reviews and since a lot of people are already spoiling it on TikTok, I decided to just watch it and OMG I am so glad I did! I have a lot of good things to discuss about this film and one of which is the animation since of course, it's an animation film and also, a PIXAR film. I recently watched LOCO and Disney never fails to provide us a better animation each time they release a new animation film!

I love the concept in which if we look at it technically, the setting is basically just within their community BUT because of their magical house, it brought us to wonderful different locations! The color is sooo beautiful and my favorite character by far is actually Isabela! I just loveee the part where she finally starts to realize that she isn't being true to herself and I just find the scene where she grew a cactus instead of roses so deep because personally, that's how I portray my life right now that I always seek validation from other people and that I am not allowed to make mistakes because of the expectations I set to myself from other people. The scene where her hair color changes and her clothes, omg it's just so beautiful! .

Let's not forget the songs in the movie as well. By far, my favorite was Surface Pressure! I love love that song and the meaning it has. It was really catchy and even hearing the songs once, it can kinda stuck in your head for a while.

I would say that this film was very timely and that this is really good not just for kids to watch this film but for adults as well because of the message it just wants to give. I also love the fact that the lead character doesn't have any powers and everyone around her does so for most of the movie, she just feels like she's not special and that everyone around her was given a purpose. You know some kids might think that maybe they're not special just because they can't do what their classmates can do or something like that. You get it but the point is, kids and adults can highly relate to this because of the different stories each character has.

I just knew that I was wrapped up in the story when I realize that I'm more than halfway through the story already but it felt like it's not yet even halfway. I really recommend this film. I do hope people, especially parents to check this out.

The most stupid, careless "scientists" to ever land on a planet.

I was rooting for the aliens this time.

Stupidity like that shouldn't breed.

Ridley, are you going senile??? Who wrote this hot mess???

Let me count the ways:

Spoilers ahead

First, they go off mission.

Then, they stomp around with no precautions on an alien planet. Touching things, littering. No oxygen masks. No idea if there are dangerous animals. Dangerous flora and fauna. Dangerous aliens. They separate. Leave others behind. Go into a structure they know nothing about.

A sick guy throws up blood on someone. How does he get sick? Well, they are stomping around, poking things. She screams, don't touch anything while dragging a sick bloody guy and her bloody self through the damned ship.

The other crew member gets on communications screaming, something is terribly wrong. The others are sauntering back at a snail's pace - all of them - instead of sending someone ahead to see what the screaming is about. No matter, they wouldn't have approached with caution anyway.

They get saved. They immediately tell this stranger how many people they have on board. They then wander off even though those very weird, strange killing machine things just tried to kill them.

Well, that's a good way to lose your head.

Their host is obviously nuts and obviously admires these creatures. Do they get the f*ck out? Nope. The idiot captain walks right into a trap.

The host says take a look. The moron captain does. Well, we know what happens when idiots go poking around a pulsating pod.

Then it goes downhill.

Really, you're rooting for the aliens to kill these idiots off to save mankind from their genetic material.

[8.9/10] War corrupts. Hateful ideology corrupts. And despite that, goodness persists. That is, perhaps, a tough idea to hold in one’s head these days, in which it feels like the world is constantly on fire literally and figuratively.

Jojo Rabbit is about that corruption and how propaganda and societal norms twist the minds of young boys even in the shadow of the horrifying and the ridiculous. But it’s also about the goodness that peaks through all of that, the heart and care and humanity that cannot be staunched by hate alone, no matter how prevalent or prominent it may be.

It’s also an absurd, ballsy, heartfelt comedy. It takes plenty of, well, chutzpah to try to wring laughs from the story of a ten-year-old member of the Hitler Youth whose imaginary friend is der fuhrer himself, but writer-director Taika Waititi zeroes in on both the sweet and the silly of that setup in a way that is nigh-miraculous. His film is a peculiar cross between Life Is Beautiful and Moonrise Kingdom, channeling the goofiness mixed with poignance of the former, with the coming-of-age tweeness of the latter.

Part of that comes from the Wes Anderson-esque approach to the look and tone of the film. Jojo Rabbit sports bright primary colors, mundane or outsized activities scored to sixties hits (albeit in German), and a particular brand of restrained yet exaggerated cuteness to nearly everything that makes the movie charming and approachable despite its Third Reich setting. Anderson would be proud of the way Waititi roots all of this in a child’s perspective, heightening the ridiculousness, the terror, and the horror of these events by depicting them through the eyes of a ten-year-old.

Part of it comes from the bonds of loved ones and the kindness of strangers that sees a young man through that horror. Jojo Rabbit is founded on the title characters relationships with those around him, which change and affect him. His mother, Rosie, playfully ribs her son and tries to rid him of his caricatured Nazi views. Elsa, a young Jewish girl Jojo’s mom hides in the walls of their home, verbally (and occasionally physically) scraps with the boy about his antisemitic views. Captain Klenzendorf, the local, outsized military leader du jour, goes out of his way to look after Jojo when he doesn't have to. And Yorki, the Milhouse to Jojo’s Bart, hugs and encourages his pal through thick and thin.

Oh yeah, and then there’s Hitler! One of the best things about Jojo Rabbit is the way it invokes a Mel Brooks-esque level of bumbling absurdity for the Nazis. Waititi himself plays “Adolf” as, appropriately for his mustache, as a nutty combination of the fuhrer mixed with Charlie Chaplin. There’s a flounciness to Waiti’s take on Hitler, one that feels both subversive but also just straight up funny, when one of history’s greatest monsters is reduced to the exaggerated, swim-class attending, unicorn-eating imaginary friend of a ten-year-old boy.

At the same time, the film depicts the local Nazi leaders and functionaries as largely a pack of buffooons. That too feels transgressive and Brooksian, declaring victory over your aggressors by reducing them to objects of goofy derision. The absurdity of their cartoonish beliefs about Jews and Russians and “anyone who doesn't look like you” serves the eminently laugh-worthy satire, but also to expose the absurdity of those beliefs that underlies their perniciousness.

That is the root of the film -- an effort to point out how contrary to sense those ideas are, how dangerous they remain nonetheless, and how our shared humanity can still survive them. As much as the show wants to point out how amusingly insane it is that these nudniks are still running around, spewing “Heil Hitler”s like they’re blowing bubbles, and preparing for a future that their declining fortunes say will never come, it also wants to get real with it. The shift from comedy and tragedy makes both more potent, especially since Waititi never completely loosens his grasp on one or the other.

As amusing as it is to see Jojo given the business by his mother or his budding friend, it’s downright terrifying when the ever-heiling gestapo comes to his house in search of agitators. The doesn't let the audience forget the stakes or the tension. It’s heart-rending when Jojo sees a particular pair of shoes dangling in the air, a reminder that all this public bloviating for a dying would-be empire is not costless. The sacrifice of a man in a silly costume hits home when he strips Jojo of his. Jojo Rabbit spends much of its runtime setting up the outsized world its characters occupy, and then lets the bitter reality seep in to greater effect.

That comes through when the cinematography shifts from an Anderson-like sense of a lovely diorama to a sad, senseless depiction of war. Images of children, pensioners, civilians, tossed into this futile fight that turns their beautiful city to dust conveys that sense of corruption behind all of this. This isn’t just the joke of a group of duplicitous buffoons; it’s something that gets regular, good people killed, and killed for no reason.

Despite that, Jojo Rabbit is a strangely hopeful movie. Much of that comes from the talent and warmth of the performances. Scarlett Johanssen gives one of her most mannered and even quirky performances ever, and it’s delightful and chock full of heart and whimsy at every turn. Sam Rockwell sells the out there nature of his demoted Nazi captain, but also knows how to turn on the quietly moving realness beneath it when it’s called for. And in Roman Griffin Davis, Thomasin McKenzie, and Archie Yates, Waititi and casting directors Des Hamilton and Maya Kvetny found a remarkable trio of child actors, who can carry the humor and emotional weight of each scene at a level beyond their years.

That’s important, because the deepest rot Jojo Rabbit worries about is the one in the soul of a ten-year-old boy. It posits that this type of cancerous growth can be overcome, swept away, through love and through a realization of humanity in personal interactions that belie the stereotypes and horror stories traded as currency. Jojo misses his father, and so replaces him with the man who put the “fuhrer” in fatherland. It’s a debilitating influence that threatens to stifle an inherent goodness within the young boy.

But the movie suggests that goodness cannot be stamped out so easily. Jojo refuses to kill an innocent rabbit. He loves and needs his mother despite his natural prepubescent attempts at rebellion. And when confronted with a real live Jew, one who needs his help and protection and ultimately, his understanding, he cannot deny her humanity, or eventually his courtly love.

There is something noble, something tender, within Jojo that is fostered by the people in his life who come to love and care about him. It’s a spirit he carries on from his mother in any number of echoing scenes of tied shoe-laces. It’s an appreciation for the need for freedom, a desire to grow up and have your own life that Elsa and her preteen attacker-turned-protector realize in the joy of dancing. It’s an innate decency that Jojo tries to reject in himself but in the end, realizes means more to him that the armband he once so gleefully put on.

Therein lies the beauty of this film. It weakens the power of that hateful ideology by depicting it as the beliefs of bumbling fools, while acknowledging the insidious effect it has in the hearts and minds of decent townsfolk and a good little boy. And at the same time, it suggests that type of corruption can be overcome, that empathy can win out, and understanding and even love can emerge from the ashes of such unspeakable things. Anne Frank once wrote, “In spite of everything I still believe that people are really good.” With Jojo Rabbit, Taika Waititi seems to agree.

It took me a while to adjust to the directing and editing of this film, but I really appreciate it now.
Great performances, well drawn characters, love the location (immediately seperates itself from Hollywood blockbusters because of the location), the action’s pretty well handled (quick cutting done right) and extremely funny.
The third act of this thing is so good; just about every minor piece of dialogue turns out to be a set up.
There’s also this Agatha Christie element woven into the first two acts that adds some nice subtext. I read the theme of the film as being about the conflict of the values of city life and country life, with the film criticizing the city side as being too stern and driven by rules, and the country community trying to maintain their idyllic facade by upholding these regressive, ridiculous ideas . I think it’s really cool that Edgar Wright found a way to integrate that idea into his big, silly action movie. It elevates the picture as a whole, I think it’s the kind of action film Scorsese would dare to label as ‘cinema’.
Maybe it isn’t objectively the best action comedy ever made, it certainly doesn’t have the biggest, most impressively filmed explosions. However, it’s the most well rounded and rewatchable one if you ask me.
Truly one of those rare films that improves when you get a better grasp of its rhythm.

9.5/10

Started off good enough enough. I thought this movie could pull off a decent sequel. After an hour the mystery of the child becaming painfully obvious. From then it became a typical hollywood drag of a dog (let's call him Pinocchio Runner) chasing his tail. As I'm waiting for the obvious to happen I remember that the bad guys did some cringey plot revealing monologues in the style of Sunset Beach, but looking like something from a superhero movie (adhere to the demographic?) It was looking bleak and felt dumbed down and boring.
It's fair to compare this to the look of the original as it's setting is simular and it really was a part of Blade Runner. This is less cyber punk and way brighter. It does still have its moments of beauty. Many. The pacing is simular, but the slow pacing of the original was held together with a plot that deveoped and a thick murky atmosphere, which are missing here.
The relationship between Joi and our main guy the serial number was too repetitive and obvious. I liked it at first glance. It looked great on screen. My issue was that the idea and thought provoking behind the relationship was done after a few scenes and the rest, of which there was a lot, felt like filler. The relationship was too linear and uninteresting to demand so much time and in the end it didnt make me feel much for the characters.
Before long there was no new ideas or interesting development in the story. When Gosling finally meets Ford it got worse - not better. The scene in which they meet was boring and silly. I start zoning out. Then... a rescue mission to conveniently take us to the end. Bye now I was completely bored and didn't care about the movie.
This movie didn't need to be made. It didnt feel like the writers wanted to write it. It felt like a cash in. Another cash in.
So it lacks all the main qualities of the original, doesnt stand alone as a good movie, and becomes increasingly boring as it progresses. Least we know Sylvia Hoeks can produce a single tear to roll down a cheek for the camera.

[9.4/10] Nomadland is an unassuming period piece, taking place roughly a decade before it was released. You wouldn’t know that beyond a few stray mentions of dates and times and the presence of a couple old cell phones that could be written off as the tech available to the film’s titular nomads. The movie centers on those travelers, getting by in desert campouts and parking lot largesse and the wide spots in the countryside. The places they inhabit feel simultaneously weathered and timeless enough to resist being dated.

And yet, it’s hard to imagine a film more salient to our times. Palpable in the very premise of the film is the sense of things left behind by a society with not enough care for the least of us. The precious possession, animals, and even people cast aside because there’s no one there to care for them permeate the film’s consciousness. It is, in its way, a blistering indictment of the community that would prompt its denizens to resort to such desperate, if resourceful, measures for want of other choices.

But it’s also a movie about loss, about the way that our connections to the people closest to us create roots deeper than any particular place, even places with warm beds and hot food. When those roots are torn up by illness or death or a changing economic landscape, it may be hard, if not impossible, to put them down ever again. Coupled with the practical reasons for adopting this lifestyle, Nomadland delves into the psychology of it, the sense of deep bonds severed that lead to a rootlessness even in those blessed with the options to settle down someplace.

The embodiment of this situation is Fern, a widow from a mining town in Nevada that withered on the vine when no one needed sheetrock anymore. The film follows her travelogue over the course of a year and beyond, rambling the countryside to wherever there’s work or community enough to sustain her. We see the world through the window of the van that doubles as both her transportation and her shelter, as she makes friends, muddles through as best she can, and scrapes by on a combination of hard work and the kindness of strangers.

Writer/director/editor Chloé Zhao lends this journey the air of naturalism it deserves. There are no big speeches here, little in the way of plot or firm structure. Instead, the movie laudably takes on the spirit of its protagonist, salt-of-the-earth wandering mixed with the buoying and complicated tangles of human interactions brought to the foreground. It’s a film that ambles, and sometimes stutters, but always in tune with the atmosphere Zhao aims to create and the internal feelings that Fern conveys.

It seems bold to say for an actor as deservedly decorated and venerable as Frances McDormand, but Fern may be her magnum opus. Fern is not a character who tells people what she really thinks or feels, almost to a fault. But in the tiniest expressions on McDormand’s face, the shifts in body language or sense of palpable discomfort when something seems too close or just close enough, she communicates those sensations and sentiments to the audience clear as a bell.

That thoroughly lived-in performance matches beautifully with Nomadland’s stunning cinematography. Director of Photography Joshua James Richards shoots astounding vistas from across the American landscape, finding beauty in desolate old towns, desert flora and fauna, and faces lit by fires crackling from the ground and stars shining from the night sky. The sense of loneliness mixed with human connection, of tininess within a vast natural world, comes through in the wonderful collection of images Zhao and Richards present.

It matches with the deliberateness of Zhao’s approach here, buoyed by soothing but melancholy piano-based score that adds feeling to the movie’s empty spaces. There’s something propulsive about Nomadland in its way, sinking into Fern’s endless search for the next odd job, the next temporary solution to her problem, the next friendly face who offers solace amid the ceaseless wandering. But Zhao also isn’t afraid to pause and show Fern simply being, to focus on the smaller moments of her life and experience that make the character and journey seem so real and viscerally felt.

Her plight comes through in the tough choices she makes in the first half of the film, and the fellow travelers she connects with grappling with the same. Through Fern, the viewer hears stories of sickness, grief, and other methods of falling through the safety net that prompt people to learn to live out of their vans in faraway places. No one ever articulates it, short of the nomads’ resident philosopher, but there’s the sense of these individuals having been victimized by a system that no longer has use for them, wanting to detach and start anew somewhere that they’re not bound by it.

It results in an inherent transience, but also deeper, liberating ties to the natural world in spare moments of grace and beauty. People flit in and out of Fern’s life -- Swankie, Linda May, Dave -- each leaving an impression on her but finding ways to move on as time and necessity progress. The joy and renewed loss of these fleeting but no less meaningful bonds animates the film, as we see small doses of stability and community infused into Fern’s life before they’re drained away by her road-bound existence.

And yet, even there, she has a certain peace away from the hustle and bustle of mainstream existence, one we learn she eschews by choice. That’s the striking turn in the second half -- learning that Fern is not wholly a nomad by necessity, with opportunities to settle down with new friends and old family. But her eccentricity, her courage, keeps her more comfortable drifting from place to place than putting down stakes again.

Ultimately, the film ties that to the loss of her husband and, eventually, the loss of the town where they made their home. It’s an irrevocable sort of grief, one that keeps Fern at a certain distance even from those who would welcome here, for fear that laying down roots again would be a betrayal to his memory, a wiping away of what he meant and the life they built together to try to replace in with anything half as sweet or stable. As time marches on, Fern seems to find some peace in this too, in the sense that all those lost souls will be met again a little on down the road, and it keeps her moving.

There is something irrepressibly timely about that tack. Nomadland does not shy away from the economic circumstances and uphill climb that leave so many straining to keep a foothold in the ever-shifting terrain of subsistence and prosperity. At the same time, it leans into a communal loneliness founded on loss, cut only by the warmth of the dribs and drabs of human connection that fade in and out of one’s life. It’s a message that is, like Fern herself, made for all seasons.

“Life is full of possibilities. You just need to know where to look. Don't miss out on the joys of life.”

Soul is a fantastic movie. This was one of my most anticipated films of the year and after reading an abundance of overly positive reviews I started to build very high expectations. For the first time this year all of my expectations were met and some even exceeded. I had forgotten about how undescribable the feeling of watching a truly fantastic Pixar film could be, watching this all the more confirmed that Pixar is undoubtedly my favorite studio in the business. The plot is great it’s an unpredictable and extremely original story. It’s a story that questions every aspect of life while also reassuring the beauty of living life to the fullest. The story is full of unpredictable plot points that creates a engagingly fun tone. There is a few minor flaws with the story the most notable one being that there is a couple negligible plot holes.

The pacing is great since it’s such an incredibly fun story there isn’t a single slow or uninteresting moment. The voice acting is fantastic from Jamie Foxx and Tina Fey. I was hesitant at first about how their voices would fit with the characters but I was surprised at how well their voices fit with the personality of Joe Gardener and 22. Both characters are very well crafted characters that will most likely grow to become some of the most memorable Pixar characters. Moonwind, Terry, and the multiple Jerry’s are great supporting characters as well.

The direction is fantastic from Pete Doctor and Kemp Powers, both men are some of the most promising men in Hollywood and through their directorial choices it’s obvious that they wanted to make this film like nothing that had been made before. When it comes to directors of animated films it doesn’t get much better than Pete Doctor. It’s hard to believe that he has never been nominated for Best Director at any of the major awards. The script is fantastic it’s an intelligent and very well layered script full of beautiful pieces of dialogue. The animation is phenomenal it’s realistic animation while also displaying cartoonish looking characters.

The score is great it’s a simplistic and memorable score. The humor is fantastic this film is full of hilarious jokes, gags, and one liners. From watching the trailers the main thing I was worried about was that the humor would be dry but I was honestly surprised at how many times I was laughing. What always impresses me with (most) Pixar films is that they near perfectly balance genuinely hilarious humor and intense yet soft emotion. In terms of the Oscars I feel this film will definitely win Best Animated Feature and possibly (hopefully) get a nomination for Best Picture. Also I could definitely see this film getting a nomination for Best Original Screenplay and Best Original Score. The ending is a completely satisfying ending that leaves you to infer what happens next with the characters. Overall Soul is an extraordinarily emotional and incredibly well made film that will truly be considered an animated classic in the future.

(9 out of 10)

I liked most of the movie's tone. Spectacular and beautiful in the empire sprawling dystopia that is / was Blade Runner. Visually stunning, and the 4 hours of the runtime is almost devoted to these superlative, panoramic moments...

Oh, it's just 2h 45m?

The plot is very much attractive and attemptive.

After a few hours of depth, it was okay. 7/10.
If I was charitable.

Its not a good sequel. It's also not blade runner. It is trying very hard to make itself blade runner. It fits together. But, it is going in too different a direction and making different choices.

In ways that should never be attempted, it has rebooted blade runner.

The same problem exists with Ghost in the shell, Ghostbusters, The Force Awakens, etc. The pageantry and spectacular effects are the most important focus, and it destroys the native or originality of the first movie. It's akin to being the archetype of a new trope.

There's a few reboots that improve, but it's a disappointment more profound than a terrible sequel to realizing that a sequel has nothing to do with the first movie. Aliens to Alien, the movie is startlingly different and plays with the same world. Blade Runner 2049 is a different world to the original.

This isn't Fan4stic. It's just... Not a sequel. Too much has changed to be the same world as the original movie.

There are deliberate problems. First world problems, to be sure, and the story is convoluted for effect.

I can't especially pin down why it fails to be a good movie rather than a great one. It has all of the pieces, or some of the pieces of a great, re-watchable, fun and masterful film.

The briefest way to sum up my disappointment is that I don't care about the characters.

The only compelling thing is perhaps Joi the holographic fake girlfriend. And while I think that this is awesome, it is not. I probably should be concerned for the hero, or Deckard. Or anything, anyone else. Nope.

Joi is the least of the significant absurdity. The reality of Joi is something profoundly idiotic. Ie. That the best acting, most emotional and smartest person is the least powerful, and the least human. This is a problem.

If the scenery was a character, it would be the protagonist of the movie. This has actually been attempted with success elsewhere, koyannaquatsi, sic.

Maybe it's just my imagination, or opinion, or A quirk of the length of the movie perhaps. Or just a funny aspect of the direction and production, could the story be told without words? Just scenes and edits.?

Probably.

Other times, it challenges you, especially the preference to rattle the room with ambient bass and ear piercing volume for the emotional experience of the scenery. Does a dead forest require a 97db foghorn-like pulse racing ambience?

It doesn't not work. Audio is pushy rather than subtle. Loud, rather than contrast or matching the power of the visual effects/ landscape.

It's not great. It's not bad. The parts it does badly are choices made. And there's thousands of odd idiosyncrasies. It's a very long movie.

It's just on the cusp of going past the suspension of disbelief. More inconsistencies than plausible or tolerant. As a result of this, you end up pulling the threads with boredom or curiosity. A movie under 100 minutes, you can Suspend Disbelief. At the 150+ minutes mark, the fantasy erodes and it needs to work much harder for coherence.

In an Era where TV can deliver a story with movie quality over 10 to 20 hours, film has to change or choose. Perhaps, choices that were made for the film by someone who doesn't enjoy movies.

Thousands of hours of thought went into this movie, and it bleeds through. When I try to put a finger on the concepts, art, choices and script for a single vision, or a single flaw that underpins the way I don't like it enough to really enjoy this or feel favorable towards it...

Nothing about the movie is inherently bad. You can overtly go into depth into scenes and pull out the hidden details for hours, context and framing etc.

The challenge will be in 5 or 10+ years, to see if someone can make this concept work properly into a better movie, TV series or universe. It is an awesome film to break into pieces, much like Gladiator or Guardians of the Galaxy, to calibrate what makes a movie great and fun.

With some editing, it could be salvaged into a better noir film. More has to go wrong, and the movie would need more characters, etc.

Theres like an hour of filler in the storyline to accomplish... Nothing. The characters chase a red herring, and it takes time. The payoff is that the quest... Is nihilistic. Okay. Awesome.

Perhaps, it comes down to the storyline being rushed, or the twist (cough) being quite a bit mishandled.

The appeal to discourse is vain. Watercooler discussion works if you make good choices and people want more. You don't get this by overlaying and obscuring the plot with a red herring and forget about the wider implications of adding a layer of intrigue that casts infinite doubt into the story.

The elements that gave the twist for Deckard being a Replicant in the original were subtle. It pushed the choice on the viewer to infer more than the movie informed or showed to people. Hence the confusion about cuts and endings, the unicorn, etc.

Now, In its most concise, the replicants are the movie. This is the first problem, of many.

Blade runner focused on the humanity of the characters, their failures and doubts versus the reckless and charismatic replicants, better in every aspect once they could be allowed to be.

This is airbrushed in the sequel.

The other is the artistry and decadence of the settings and locations. Awesome, but amateurish as well.

Amateur in that people don't live in the places created, and never did. There's a lot of brilliant and creative ideas on display, and a botched integration with the world. Things are weathered, in sterile rooms. Lighting is moody, in a clean street, with/without vehicles in the roads. A brothel is next door to a food court with a giant touch screen locker system, which seems like it should be a keyed location. It feels unlike a real location because of the fake and the overt push of the crowds.

And you have tumbled modernist art deco statues in a washed out Las Vegas, but holographic jukeboxes and intact highrises. The reason it looks fake is, people have to make places. Choices. Fund and buy resources. The reason why you don't have an office building with irrigation and water pools is someone has to clean it. Maintain it. And be irritated by it. The Wallace replicants are entirely doll manifestations that also deliver the plot and momentum of the film. This is... Stupid. Not clever. The noir elements don't merge well, the luck needed to process the plot is supra deus ex machinae, there's... Time spent on the silliest of things that do not change the plot in the 4 middle parts. We have 4 middle parts of filler to drive a plot that is being steered.

The directing / storyline choices made are... Curious. Dumb. Gaudy. Pretentious. Self important. Disconnected. Hyped. Overt. Mismanaged. Otherwise, fine. It's not a problem, despite the insanity required to implement. The visual and story choices are styled to make people feel and understand.

You can think of these settings, but it becomes fake and austentatious once built. This overt motif becomes a character in the movie, it does not ever blend in with the background. Hence, amateur.

In some ways, they did the same damage as Ghost in the Shell (2017) attempting modernized Holographic Cityscapes. It is so much more gorgeous, and so much more hollow.

The more significant problem exists with Ghost. The characters were trampled by the budget and the plot inserts. Arguably, the same problem exists with The Force Awakens, that the characters feel forced into the greenscreen and wire work action scenes from unnatural dialogue. Ford Ambles in this movie. A lot. He has his moments, but the insanity of using a cartoon Evil villain in a "billion dollar" movie is incredibly lazy.

Harrison Ford against a non blind, non insane Jared Leto would have connected people to the charismatic and driven ideologue. Nope.

The movie wants to forget subtle and forges a deliberate "fish bowl" motif to the antagonist, a "Desperate" ambitious CEO with a lust for dominance via a replicating replicant workforce. This is the lowest possible point in the movie, because of the way it is presented as... Iconoclast and preachy desperation.

I don't know if I'd give the movie a 9 without Jared Leto, but it seems possible.

I just don't even really care, that's the problem. Every other character, is fine.

[8.0/10] There’s a running gag among superhero film fans these days that each new Batman movie forces viewers to relive Bruce Wayne’s parents being killed, that grisly scene reimagined again and again for each new generation. The Lego Batman Movie, thankfully, spares us from that (thought it might have been amusing to see the grim tones of Joe Chill rendered in “pew-pew” style). Still, the movie essentially responds to that criticism as it plumbs the depths of the tropes and subtropes and clichés that have sprung up around the Bat-verse, finding a trite but true take on the character in the process.

The film achieves this by showing a Batman who gazes wistfully at photo of him and his parents near crime alley, and implying that he is afraid to have a family for fear that getting close to anyone will result in that sort of loss. It’s heavy stuff, but Lego Batman plays it just light enough to keep the proceedings fun, but strong enough to where you cannot help but offer a minor “aww” when he, inevitably, opens those emotional doors and lets people into his life.

That makes Lego Batman sound deeper and darker it is. There is nothing particularly groundbreaking about the core story of the film, how a gloomy loner learns to appreciate the value of community and family. But grafting that onto The Batman himself, particularly in a film that is constantly taking the stuffing out of the ever-stoic, uber-capable, eternal icon of all that is broody and badass, lends it an air of fun that never lets up.

It’s also a major part of why the film is so sound at its core. Every major character has a journey. Batman discovers that he’s already a part of a family. Alfred manages to help his surrogate son grow up. Dick Grayson finds a surrogate dad of his own. And Barbara Gordon succeeds in finding a new, more communal way to fight crime, by having Batman work with local law enforcement rather than apart from them. Again, none of this is so novel, but it all splits off the main theme, and gives each of the protagonists an animating purpose and distinct point-of-view throughout the proceedings.

But what truly sets Lego Batman apart is its the way the films writers clearly both love Batman, but find endless ways to make fun of the caricature of the character that has emerged in the popular culture over last thirty years or so. The just-for-fun confines of the Lego environment gives director Chris McKay (who’s used to this style of reimaginative comedy from his work on Robot Chicken) license to turn the Caped Crusader into a silly, over-the-top parody of himself, with plenty of nods to the character’s prior incarnations in tow.

Lego Batman is, in fact, a veritable cornucopia of humorous homages, great and small, to the entire history of the character. While the hilarious Batman: The Brave and The Bold animated series functioned similarly as a tribute to the wilder and woolier side of the character’s past appearances, it (mostly) played those nods straight, albeit tongue-in-cheek, while McKay’s film a whirling dervish of meta-gags about Batman’s greatest hits, filled to the brim with winks to the audience and blasts from the past. Whether it’s a cavalcade of Z-grade villains or Billy Dee Williams finally getting to play Two-Face or The Joker declaring that his latest caper will be even greater than the “thing with the two boats,” there are frequent shout outs to Batman’s other on-screen outings.

To that end, the film’s finest point is its opening fifteen minutes, which serves as both a nice entree to the world and tone of the film, and also as a nice, standalone gag-fest for not only The Dark Knight himself, but for all superhero flick opening acts. The rapid-fire gags and meta humor are in full swing, and the movie shows of its visual impressiveness as well, finding a nice balance between big action and Lego-fueled weightlessness. The torrent of hero-on-villain combat and comic asides creates an intro to the film that is as visually inventive as it is amusing.

But, as all films must, eventually Lego Batman’s initial thrills give way to the real plot. At this point, the film becomes more conventional in the paths its characters take, but the irreverence of it all, particularly the steely black-clad hero himself longing for a human connection in very silly terms, keeps the film enjoyable even when it can’t match the comic punch of that opening salvo. The cross-franchise mayhem, creative animated sequences, and murderer’s row of great actors voicing their Gotham counterparts, help buoy the proceedings even as the movie settles down.

Still, it’s the unconventional, loving-but-joshing take on the main character that wins the day. One of the quick gags early in the film is that the nominally dark, mature Batman loves romantic comedies. What seems like a throwaway gag, powered by the out of character fun of such a revelation, is fleshed out into a fulsome and funny bit of character, when The Joker takes offense to Batman refusing to call him his “greatest enemy.” What ensues is a story of a hero and archvillain told with the contours of the same romcoms, with jilted love (er, hate), a refusal to say three magic words, and the third act reconciliation and affirmation that takes the occasional obsessive subtext between Batman and the Clown Prince of Crime in an amusingly Jerry MaGuire-inspired direction.

That’s the gleam of The Lego Batman Movie. It’s a film that is not only aware of the storied, sometimes absurd history of its central (mini)figure, but it’s aware of the conversations that have cropped up in and among his endless permutations on screen over the years. It’s ready with a commentary on who Batman is, with all of his exaggerated qualities taken up to eleven, that is both age-appropriate for youngsters come to see a Lego adventure, and clever for the adults watching a riff on the hero they grew up with. And by offering a take on the character that is committed to not taking Batman too seriously, Lego Batman, oddly enough, presents one of the best encapsulations of the character and all the wonderful absurdity he’s spawned, that is affectionate, clever, and above all, fun.

Was that movie related to The Shning from Stanley Kubrick or was that a X-Men sequel?
It starts with that pub fight scene at the beginning, I'm quite sure I've seen a similar one with Wolverine at the begging of a X-Men movie, with the same "funny" takes. I wouldn't expect those in a movie related to The Shining, doesn't fit to the climax of the 80's Stanley Kubrick's classic.
Ok, I let it go... but then comes the rereading of the shine extrasensory gift, that Danny and the little girl transformed into a WhatsApp chat... I thought it would be only one or two messages exchanged, but the movie continues with that chat on the wall for a long time...
At one side there is Charles Xavier and Jean Grey interacting through a telekinesis WhatsApp chat on the wall and at the other Magneto recruiting new mutants to join his gang.
The costume of character Rose the Hat is certainly inspired by some X-men character... I could only see a villain similar to Magneto recruiting mutants, despite the beautiful Rebecca Ferguson playing the character.
And what about the special effect while Rose the Hat is extracting the new mutants' gift? The extrasensory gift is that smoke then? And you are able to store it into a bottle? Really?
The end in the hotel... where those ghosts inspired by Addams Family? I know those are the same ghosts characters from The Shinning, but the scene on the stairs I could only think on Addams Family characters, probably due to the way they were represented...
I really didn't like this movie. Perhaps if I watched it without relating to The Shining it could be only an average horror movie.